#and she would like his ‘cool face tattoos’ i think

[silverflameataraxia]

Nesta Reawakening Dusk Court

(This is an incredibly long post, but these are my reasons for why it will be Nesta who awakens the Dusk Court.)

Starborn

Nesta had the Starborn logo (the eight-pointed star) tattooed on her back. Her magic chose the design, just like Bryce's magic marked her with the Starborn scar after she drew the star out of her chest. Starborn hail from the Dusk Court.

Starborn, like Bryce, have starlight, and I think the end of ACOSF might have foreshadowed that for Nesta.

A home. The House of Wind, Velaris, this court...they were her home. The thought kindled a kernel of light in her chest that had not extinguished, even in the days after the Rite.

Her mate. Her love. Her friend. The light within her chest brightened to a radiant sun.

The light was coming from her chest - had been pulled from inside it. Like it had dwelled inside her all along. Bryce's eyes were closed, her face serene.

The ground slid out from under Hunt as the light between her hands, the star she'd drawn from her shattered heart, flared as bright as the sun.

Right into the eyes of the asp shifter. He screamed, clawing at his face. Blazing bright as the sun, Bryce moved.

Dusk Court

Nesta found the chamber in The Prison with the Harp and the eight-pointed star when no one else knew it existed. Bryce's star found the tunnel in the Hewn City that no one knew existed and also led her to the chamber in the Prison.

Nesta awakened the Harp while scrying, and since the Harp is on Dusk Court land, she could awaken that too.

Nesta reawakening the Dusk Court was forshadowed in ACOSF.

The very land seemed abandoned. Like something great had once existed here and then vanished. Like the land still waited for it to return.

Nesta and Bryce were both able to get through to the chamber where the eight-pointed star was, but not Cassian or Az. Az could only enter when Nesta opened the wards for him.

Nesta noted feeling drawn to the chamber with the eight-pointed star.

She had the creeping feeling she'd been brought here.

Not by the Cauldron or the Mother or the Harp. By something vaster. Something that stretched into the stars carved all around them.

It's cool, light hands guided her wrists as she picked up the Harp.

When Nesta left the chamber with the eight-pointed star, she felt beckoned to return.

The words tumbled out as Nesta waded back through the ward-heavy cavern, feeling that center spot, the star at its heart, like a physical presence at her back. Those vast, light hands seemed to pull at her, trying to make her return, but she ignored them, explaining to Cassian what she'd heard from the Harp, and what she'd seen in the vision with Briallyn.

Obviously, Nesta wouldn't have turned back in ACOSF because Bryce needed that information in HOFAS, but if Nesta had turned back around and returned to the chamber, everything that happened with Bryce would have probably happened with Nesta: finding out the truth about Queen Theia, finding out there's a fourth item of the Dread Trove, gaining Silene's power, being able to reawaken the Dusk Court, and finding the Asteri buried beneath.

Bryce mentioned that Silene left everything in the chamber for a Starborn to find.

Bryce gazed at the eight-pointed star, the very heart of this chamber, of this map of the cosmos. "Someone put your Harp there for a reason."

"It was left for someone like me."

"Helena left this here...Just as Silene left everything in the caves of her home world. For someone to find. Someone who could bear the Starsword, and whose starlight would lead them down here. Someone who might also have learned the truth...and known where to look."

The Harp was buried beneath the Prison for a future Starborn (Nesta) to find. Someone who could wield Gwydion, which now, thanks to Bryce, was gifted to Nesta. Someone whose starlight would lead them there: we don't know if Nesta has or will have starlight, but she still said she felt beckoned to the chamber by forces that stretched into the stars all around them, so there's a good chance Nesta was led there because she's Starborn. Because she's meant to reawaken the Dusk Court.

The Bone Carver and Lanthys have both heard about Nesta (and it's implied that the other Prison inmates have as well). I don't think this is because her power is Death, but because they are the only beings who live in the former Dusk Court. And I think they heard about her because the land recognized her as soon as she came out of the Cauldron, as the one who would reawaken the land. Rather than her power being rare amongst the High Fae, is it possible that it could be very old magic that is tied to the Dusk Court?

"Whose fire burns silver in your gaze?"

"You know whose fire," she stalled.

But it struck true, somehow. Lanthys's skin drained of color. "It is not possible." He looked to the Harp beside a stirring Cassian, and his eyes widened again. "We heard about you down here. You are the one the sea and the wind and the earth whispered of." He shuddered. "Nesta." He grinned, showing teeth slightly too long. "You took from the Cauldron itself."

Nesta has been referred to as the Queen of Queens. Bryce was also a queen in Migard (until she ended the monarchy). Could both be descended from Queen Theia? It's no coincidence that both have or had the sign of the Starborn; control items of the Dread Trove, which Theia stole from the Asteri; and both wielded/currently wield Gwydion, the sword of the Starborn, and they are the only two females besides Theia to ever wield it. There's a reason both were brought to the chamber with the eight-pointed star in the Prison, which is on Dusk Court land, which is the land of the Starborn people. And both wield the Horn or the Harp, which were last used by Helena and Silene. Queen Theia said that she and her heirs were the only ones worthy of tending the Dusk Court.

Nesta has already started cleaning up the Prison. One swipe from Ataraxia binded Lanthys into physical form. Beheading him with it killed him, an unkillable being, contemporary to the Asteri. Truth-Teller was used by Silene to throw monsters into the Prison, but it can't kill them. Az even said that Truth-Teller can't kill the unkillable. And considering Az has had that dagger for centuries, and he has put monsters in the Prison, I would think he would know if it could kill them. And it can't. Only Ataraxia (and maybe Gwydion) can. Nesta also beheaded Vesperus, the last remaining Asteri in Prythian, while Bryce defeated the other Asteri on Midgard, and Theia and Fionn defeated the Asteri back in the day. Once again, could it be that both Nesta and Bryce are from Theia and Fionn's bloodline?

All she needs to do now is use Ataraxia, and maybe even the Harp, to finish clearing out the rest of the Prison. There's no point in giving this plot to another character when she's already started doing it, and the Prison inmates already fear her and Ataraxia.

Screaming began throughout the mountain. Petrified, pleading screaming, fists pounding. Not on the rock or the doors that held them, but on the opposite walls of their cells. As if they were begging the Prison to spare them from her and that sword.

Lanthys had fallen. And the occupants of the Prison had felt it.

Prison/Ramiel

Like Bryce, who felt the land of the Dusk Court, Nesta has also felt the Pass of Enalius like it was alive.

No - not someone, though she could have sworn she felt warmth and breath. She'd hit the archway of stone. They'd fallen all the way back down to the Pass of Enalius, dangerously close to the males who pursued them.

If both the Prison and Ramiel are barren, sister peaks, then could Nesta maybe reawaken both?

The Mother

Nesta has a connection with the Mother, and Az said this about her in HOFAS:

"All life came and comes from it," Azriel said with something like reverence. "The Mother poured it into this world, and from it, life blossomed."

Since Nesta has a connection with the Mother, there's a good chance that Nesta will be the one to bring life back into the earth, mainly the Dusk Court, but maybe even Ramiel and some other barren lands.

Queen Theia's Scion

Everything seems to point toward Nesta being a descendant of Queen Theia, thus making her Starborn, thus making her the heir to the Dusk Court.

To leave this account for one whose blood will summon it, child of my child, heir of my heir. To you - I leave my story, your story. To you, in this very stone, I leave the inheritance and the burden that my own mother passed to me.

This place, this Prison and the court it had once been, was Bryce's inheritance. Hers to command, as Silene had commanded it.

And in that moment, the mountain - the island - spoke to her.

Alone. It was so alone - it had been waiting all this time. Cold and adrift in this thrashing gray sea. If she could reach out, if she could open her heart to it...it might sing again. Awaken. There was a beating, vibrant heart locked away, far beneath them. If she freed it, the land would rise from its slumber, and such wonders would spring again from its earth -

Like called to like. As if her star knew this magic existed and drawn her toward it, as if they were sister powers -

And, once again, Nesta felt beckoned to return to this chamber in the Prison, so if she had, or next book if she returns with Gwydion then everything seems to point toward her reawakening the Dusk Court.

Dusk Court was an Asteri palace before Theia had claimed it. Considering Nesta killed the last Asteri on Prythian, who was imprisoned on the Dusk Court land, it would make sense for to reawaken and claim the land after she further rids it of evil.

Truth-Teller

Bryce needed both Gwydion and Truth-Teller to reawaken Avallen, which she did by fitting them into an eight-pointed star. Nesta now has Gwydion, but if Truth-Teller is needed to reawaken the Dusk Court, then Nesta can wield it, as Bryce can, because it will answer to her.

Theia extended her hands toward the water, the offered blades. And on phantom wings, sword and dagger soared for her. Summoned to her hands.

My mother returned that day with only Pelias and my father's blades. As she had helped Make them, they answered to the call in her blood. To her very power.

Bryce summoned both Gwydion and Truth-Teller, and both flew to her hand. They chose her over Az because she's Starborn. Good chance Nesta could summon Truth-Teller too, not permanently but just to reawaken the Dusk Court, if it is needed.

Rebirth

Nesta's entire story arc revolves around the concept of rebirth. Something old becoming something new. Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie are Valkyries reborn, not entirely Valkyrie, nor entirely Illyrian, but rather something new. Nesta Made the first magic weapons in 15,000 years. She named her magic sword Ataraxia, a name in the Old Language, which hasn't been spoken in 15,000 years. Nesta found the Dread Trove, which has been missing for 15,000 years. She helped to defeat the Asteri, who had enslaved Midgard for 15,000 years. Nesta now wields Gwydion, the last Made sword, which hasn't been in Prythian for 15,000 years. All signs seem to point toward Nesta being Starborn, which Bryce describes as a gift of the ancient Fae - reborn again. Following this story arc, it would make sense for Nesta to reawaken the Dusk Court, which hasn't been a court and has instead been this barren, desolate island for 15,000 years.

Even when Bryce and Nesta talked about the relief of the Dusk Court, it parallelled Nesta's healing in ACOSF, about her learning to live with the darkness, and to focus only on the good.

Bryce examined the relief. Took in the dancing, the stars, the idyllic islands in the background. And she said softly, "It means that there was once joy in this world."

Bryce kept her eyes on the dancers, the stars, the lush lands. Ignored the darkness beneath. Focused on the good - always the good. "Isn't that all that matters?"

[sga-owns-my-soul]

thanks @stinalotte for the inspiration for Todd having a standing invitation for dinner at the Millers!

[skyrigel]

Simon swore he didn't want a relationship, but as soon as he met you — well there might be some changes in the plan.

He did want a relationship, fine, if it's with you, he's willing to give it a try but he's not really going for the trouble. No, thankyou.

Simon wouldn't really ask you if you haven't eaten yet or not, he's not your daddy, like that's a different thing, but he's not going to give you an earful for sleeping late and eating unhealthy.

He's going to be your boyfriend but... nonchalant boyfriend if it made any sense.

It never did.

Maybe changing his priorities was the first tick-tick for the bomb that came along his way because as soon as he found you, he was gobsmacked with a possessiveness that drived him insane.

He thought it would only bother him when you would be around because what sort of man he would be if he didn't melt at your sweetness.

But you lingered like a tattooed kiss, everything now connected with you, every thought started and ended with you.

He almost asked Soap to tie his hands so he could stop texting you random shit.

Like why should he bother with your meds and why it's making his heart burn if you haven't taken them.

Everything was jus' getting out of hand.

You were just so extreme, just out of your mind and he liked it, fuck he loved every bit of you. He just couldn't stop himself —

“You look like... you're bout’ to cry.” Soap annouced from his side, Simon shaked his head, then thinking different, nodded.

“She's having a bad day.” He said, “I am gonna kill this Nancy.”

“Who's..Nancy ?”

“You know wot ?” Simon grumbled instead, “I am gonna call her and tell her.. it's gonna be okay.”

“Right.” Soap bounced, covering his face because what has happened to his mate.

“Untie my wrist.” He growled.“Quick.” he added dangerously.

“Right.” Soap shrugged, already getting on his feet.

And if staying away from you was proving to be bad on his nonchalance then being near was almost tripping.

“You said you wouldn't come.” You gasped when he arrived, looking nervous and perhaps bit surprised himself.

“I...well...you look lovely.” He leaned to kiss your cheek, simple adorable gesture, “Thankyou Si !” He blushed at the nickname.

He really didn't know what took him until he realised that giving in to care about you was probably for the best. And really, it wasn't so bad, to think about you, to put efforts for you, to fucking nick the moon for you, because the moment you smiled at him so fondly, like he was capable to deserve that warmth from you, he actually knew what the trouble was all about and he was very much gladly taking a fall for your sake.

So it really didn't matter if he was putting on his warmth clothes because he was one second away from wrapping you in warmth the moment you very much sniffed.

It didn't matter how hot your body got sometimes with heat, he's there soaking cloth in cold ice water and cooling you down.

He's hearing that french lady talk and talk because he needs that recipe you so very love.

He sleeps with an arm under your head and heart full of things he would do for you and himself, to built a home.

Because he fucking cares, he swore for that, to make you the happiest with him.

He doesn't want to be nonchalant, he doesn't want to pretend like he doesn't care because he does.

Really.

Masterlist

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[solbaby7]

I loved Blurred Lines!! Do you think you’d ever want to do a part 2 for when Rhys shows up? 👀 👀🔥

[ part one ]

Rhysand hears you before he see’s you.

Unhinged shouts and the rhythmic smacking of skin on skin pulling him closer, beckoning him inside. The concealed safe house reeks of sex, clothes scattered around the floor from the moment he walks in; chairs are tipped over, rugs askew and there’s a dent on the hallway wall.

He doesn’t bother calling out for you, certain that you probably wouldn’t hear him anyway through the drug-induced haze. The traces of it lingers in your scent, spiking sweet honey and brown sugar with strong notes of spicy cinnamon that settles thick in his throat. “Swear, I can take it, Az.” Desperate whines and choppy breaths coupled with deep grunts and a husky swear at the sound of your plea. “Just a little harder.��

Rhys knew it shouldn’t have affected him the way it did. The blood that rushed between his legs at the sound of Azriel complying, doing everything you’d asked for and more. Neither of you even notice him, shadows too distracted in squeezing at heaving breasts and gliding up the length of your neck. A soothing cool to combat the overwhelming heat that Azriel had spent hours trying to quench.

It would work for a little while before the need grew again, demanding more tongue and teeth biting into your shoulders. Blazing for the harsh grip of Azriel’s hands on your hips as his cock nudged in as far as your body allowed. “Rhys will be here soon,” He’d mutter into the shell of your ear when you’d clench around him, hips stuttering and tears streaming down your cheeks from the sensitivity of yet another orgasm.

And yet, still your body commanded more.

“It won’t stop,” Sweat beads at your hairline, hair tangled and lips swollen as your body holds onto Azriel like a lifeline. Filthy sounds squelch between where you begin and he ends, arousal dripping like a leaky faucet. “Why won’t it stop?”

“Rhys,” Azriel sighs in relief when the High Lord comes into view, exhaustion evident in tousled inky hair and droopy lids but he’s too lost in the feeling to stop. The spymasters wings are splayed out behind him as your hands wander freely along the leathery texture, hips rocking and tongue dragging along the side of his neck. “You’re here.”

Rhysand nods once, easing you off and into his arms. You find instant relief with his touch, face buried in his neck as he guides you into the bathroom. The water in the tub had long since ran cold and yet it’s perfectly warm when he rests you inside. “Took you long enough,” You whisper weakly, voice raspy from overuse. “I nearly broke him.”

His jaw clenched, unreasonable jealously tickling at the edge of his mind at the sight of Azriel’s marks on you. “I can see that,” Rhys pushes damp hair from your face, cupping at flushed cheeks to stare into your eyes. At the bright specks the shade of lavender dotting the iris, a stark contrast from pupils blown with lust. “Amren said it sounds like you were drugged with a strong mix of herbs; mostly meant to disorient but a natural side-affect is debilitating arousal.”

“She say how long it’ll last?”

Rhys grimaces slightly, hesitating before answering. “Depending on how much you ingested? Roughly a few hours, possibly less.”

Your heart plummets. So much time had already passed. How much more could you possibly endure?

More. More. More.

Every bone in your body screams as you watch the High Lord undress, exposing sun-kissed skin and mouth-watering tattoos. The water trickles when your thighs shift, searching for friction as a fresh wave of need rises. “In that case,” Your hand trails down beneath the water, hyperaware of the violet stare tracking every move. “I hope you brought your stamina.”

He’s quick to join you in the tub—even quicker when he tugs you on top of him, pressing claiming kisses to your mouth and he slides in with ease, hushed curses falling from full lips from the near unbearable heat of your cunt. “It’s not my stamina you should be worried about,” Rhysand’s deliberate in the way he slowly lifts you off him, watching more of his length come into view until only the fat tip of his cock is inside. “I’ll spend all night fucking the smell of him off you if I must.”

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

(seven) days a week, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: It only takes seven days (a week) for Jeon Jungkook to get you in his bed to fuck you right. And showing up in weird places. And kissing in the rain. He's crazy. Okay, it's kinda complicated.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language (reader swears a lot); strangers-to-lovers; vague allusions to a loveless childhood and bad parenting (no specifics); JK might be insane and you do tell him that he is; slight crack; fluff; smut (fem reader, fucking with clothes on and off, m and f-receiving oral, light hair pulling, fingering, nipple play, choking, penetrative sex, handjob); non-idol!BTS – persistent!Jungkook x noona, def tsundere!reader lol ft instigator-cupid!Park Jimin setting them up

this directly follows Jung Kook's 'Seven' MV, so make sure to watch it (although I'm sure you've seen it if you wanna read this lmao)

--

monday.

“What? Something on my face?”

You stared at him and he stared back. Wide eyes, slightly parted lips, the look of caught prey and all. You had your hands in front of you, long fingers laced together, elbows on the table. You probably shouldn’t have scowled like that. That was a bit rude, especially to someone you didn’t know well, but this guy had been staring at you all night and barely speaking to you, even when prompted, so you were getting both impatient and annoyed at accepting this invitation.

“You wear… a lot of jewelry,” Jeon Jungkook said out loud, with awe.

You looked down at your hands. Well. The rings, the bracelets, even the earrings on both your ears, all sterling silver or white gold. You had even swapped out the lower lobe piercing for a pair of dangling dice earrings with grey freshwater pearls. You liked the cooler tone to bring some death to your warm-toned skin.

“Yeah. Is that a problem?” Your low voice had an edge of guarded to it.

A quick, nervous head shake. “No. No, it’s cool. I’ve never seen a girl wear so many chunky rings like that. I didn’t think I’d like it either, but then I saw you.”

You opened your mouth to snap out a comeback and then his words hit you.

There was no doubt that Jeon Jungkook was cute. Black-brown hair with a lustrous quality. Bright, expressive dark brown eyes. Slightly rounded cheeks with a distinct jawline. He said he had, and you could see, tattoos and piercings, something you quite liked but not a requirement. Built body, in the way that people where when they were committed to taking care of their physical appearance. Not so much in vanity, but in the way that matched how they felt that they should look in their head. Respect for that. But, in this chance that was what you had expected to be his, Jungkook didn’t taken it.

He looked the part.

Didn’t act it, though.

Black blazer, matching trousers. White t-shirt. Dressy but not too much. To be honest, the outer appearance didn’t matter much to you. It actually mattered the least. You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Really. You were often told that you had too little patience for people, but, come on!

This conversation was awkward.

Hah.

You turned as you sensed a lively presence re-entering your icy atmosphere. Hmph. The actor playing Cupid in the instance. He looked the part too. Baby blue dress shirt with the top buttons undone. Ivory slacks, neatly pressed. Black hair perfectly curled over his forehead, framing an angelic face. Full lips forming an infectious smile that made his eyes disappear as small hands folded away the receipt and tucked his card back into his wallet.

“Ah, the waitress and I had a cute little chat,” flirty Park Jimin chuckled, giving you a little eyebrow wiggle. You rolled your eyes at him. “Did you guys have a nice talk while I was gone?”

“Um…?” Jungkook started, nearly afraid to glance at you for some support.

You gave Jimin a deadpan stare. “You trying to get her number?”

“Me? No, no!” he waved his hands, sitting back down to lean in. “She gave it to me anyway though.”

Figures Park Jimin would introduce you to a guy and also get the number of someone else in the restaurant. You deliberately hadn’t answered Jimin’s question, but he hadn’t noticed.

Jungkook, however, did.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed him deflate a little and you winced in unease, not sure if you should have avoided it, but at this point the waitress had returned, lashes aflutter and gushing about how they just had to try to fried ice cream and it was on the house, as long as Jimin promised to come back, right? Right?

Jimin promised of course, of course, with a big smile.

You completely ignored him and picked up one of the pieces of fried ice cream – mango, it seemed, by the color – and placed it on one of the small plates before setting it right in front of Jungkook.

He perked up and gave you these big, hopeful eyes.

You didn’t say anything but felt your cheeks flush and your gaze shift, putting on an expression of reluctant apology. After a half second, you bowed your head just a bit, shaking off the moment and serving yourself before serving Jimin.

What?

Damn flirt didn’t even notice.

-

tuesday.

“You didn’t like him?”

“I mean, there’s nothing to like or dislike. He barely said anything. Also, Jimin, I told you, I’m not really a relationship person,” you sighed into your phone, walking quickly to the train station. “I don’t want to give this guy the wrong idea about me. He didn’t really strike me as a fuck-around-and-find-out kinda guy.”

“You said you would change your mind for the right person though.”

Sometimes you thought Jimin argued with you just to argue.

“Yeah, and I don’t even know what kind of person he is because he didn’t say shit,” you barked back to that snippy tone on the other side of the line. Some idiot honked at you and you resisted the urge to flip him the bird. Maybe he wasn’t honking at you. The hanging out the window and catcalling could be to the couple walking next to you.

You highly doubted it.

Also, maybe you just wanted to give someone the middle finger because you couldn’t show Jimin right now how much you deeply appreciated him.

“Jungkookie’s just super shy, but wait a minute and he’ll make you his.”

You rolled your eyes. Damn bad habit that you were forming ever since you became friendly with this mildly infuriating angel. “He’s not making me do anything.”

“I’m telling you; he suits you perfectly. You’re being stubborn and not giving him a chance. Anyway, I gave him your number, so don’t worry!”

“Wait, you did wha–”

The roar of the subway train below cut you off.

“Oop, you’re at the station. You’re breaking up! Can’t hear you, byeeeeeee!”

You twitched as Park Jimin hung up on you.

Asshole.

You pulled your phone away from your ear and pulled up the app to pay for your ticket. Paused for a second. New message, unknown number. Then it was your turn, so you hovered your phone screen, heard the beep, and hurried to the correct train line, finding the one to take you home. It was hectic even now, still within the dregs of rush hour, so you didn’t even think to check for the content of the text until you sat down with a big sigh, somewhat of a fwump with your distressed bomber jacket and baggy cargo pants, both made of thick black fabric. The side of your jacket slid off, exposing your bare shoulder and tight white tank top.

The guy standing about a meter away from you snuck a glance in your direction.

You tucked your tongue in your cheek and yanked your jacket back in place with the hand that was holding your phone. Noticed the screen flash, reminding you of the notification.

Fuck it.

Pressed your thumb and your phone unlocked.

Hey, it’s me. Jeon Jungkook… I wanted to say that I’m sorry about not talking that much last night. I was really nervous because you were so pretty and self-assured. I was so impressed that nothing I could think of seemed like a good thing to say, so I blanked out. I’m very sorry. I hope it is okay for me to text you like this.

An essay.

You paused for so long that you felt your cheeks heat.

The fuck?

You frowned at yourself. For some reason, even though he hadn’t talked much, you could hear the text in your head as if Jungkook was speaking to you directly. Sense the anxiousness in the typed words. See those big eyes gazing right at you with a mixture of curiosity and wonder and what-ifs. You sighed, feeling defeated. It would simply be rude to not reply.

I apologize for being too intimidating.

You sent it before thinking. Aw, shit. That was a bit short, wasn’t it? Damnnit. You saw the sending quadlet of dots spinning slowly, struggling due to you being underground. Fuck. If you sent another message now, it might be out of order and that would just get confusing. And what else could you add? Oh, geez, you didn’t even confirm it was you. The conversation with Park Jimin must have scrambled your egg brains.

The train roared out of the tunnel.

All of a sudden, the message sent and a reply instantly popped up. Actually, a serious of bubbles, rapid-fire like bullets. The confirmation must have lagged.

You’re not intimidating at all! Well… not in a bad way. In a sexy way. I mean, in a good way! In a cool way, like you’re not afraid to say what you wanna say. I really admire that in a person, so I really admire that in you. Sorry, that was weird, wasn’t it? I made things weird… ㅠ.ㅠ

You blinked slowly at the messages. It was pretty clear Jungkook had sat there and pondered over the first message for quite a while and these subsequent ones were stream of consciousness spewing. Honestly, kind of funny. Heh. You could sort of imagine it. Maybe he hadn’t expected you to respond right away. Hm, you wondered if he had hoped you would. He really was trying hard, huh. For what? What was the reason?

You tucked your tongue in your cheek and responded anyway.

Oh, you’re definitely weird, but you never know. I might like that. What’s the outfit of the day, Jeon Jungkook?

Were you fishing for a photo? Of course. He would probably scramble to put on a good outfit to impress you. To your surprise, the downloading image icon popped up instantaneously, spinning, spinning. You tilted your head, surprised at the prompt obedience. He must have snapped a pic right away when you asked. It was taking time to load though. You saw some people getting off the train and looked up, checking the stop. Oh, yours was next.

You took care not to look directly at anyone around you, keeping your sling bag in your lap.

Then you looked down to the inquisitive dark brown eyes of Jeon Jungkook with messy black hair and a black leather jacket. White t-shirt. It was a selfie, so you couldn’t see the pants. It was something borderline vain about the angle, but also a seek of approval in that parted mouth, silver ring and stud dotting the edge of the right side, flash of white teeth and slight bite of the left side revealing a small mole at the center underneath his lower lip.

You twitched.

Bold, wasn’t he?

You weren’t sure if you liked it – well, you didn’t mind it, you just weren’t sure if you like-liked it, what was he trying to play at here, trying to get your heart to beat fast or something, hmph – and you clutched your phone pointedly, your rings clacking as you prepped your fingers to type back… something, be honest here… and your fingers wavered.

Shaking a little.

You let out a breath you hadn’t known you had been holding.

Oh, the pants are blue jeans, but I’m out right now so there’s no mirror to show you.

You heard your stop being called and stood up automatically, filing behind other people getting ready to step off, the train slowing down, everything slowing down, finding yourself staring at Jungkook’s expression in the photo, why were you staring, shifting your eyes quickly, then back, it wasn’t like Jeon Jungkook could see you, ugh, this was so annoying.

Do you want to see? I can take another photo when I get home.

You let out a frustrated exhale that no one else around you could understand. Maybe not even those closest to you would get it. But you knew what it meant, and knowing also frustrated you.

Being self-aware was a bitch.

You finally sent your answer.

I much prefer this look on you than the blazer. Is this your normal fashion style?

You had worn a flowing white blouse and floaty black skirt the night before at dinner, but it was not your typical style. Well, it was, but it was one of your work outfits since you had come straight from the office. Something you wore to not get in trouble with the dress code and knowing you would have to meet up with people later. Sometimes you were a little riskier if you were feeling frisky, but Jimin had told you to look nice for the friend he was introducing you to.

But maybe it would have been better to look more you.

Then again, the restaurant was pretty high end. They might not have let you in.

Oh. Yeah. Hahaha, I wore the blazer because Jimin-ssi told me to look nice for you. I guess this is street-style? I don’t know… I’m not fashionable, I only wear what I think is cool or comfy. What about you?

You strode out of the train and briskly walked to the elevator, muscle memory already knowing where to go, typing back. Pausing when you saw the vending machine. A green tea would be nice right now.

You veered off course and headed to stand in line.

I think my friends would describe my style as dark and strong. They’re always telling me I should dress more feminine or at least in less black, but one of my core traits is not listening to shit people say. And swearing.

You tapped your card and made your selection. Waited out the whirr and clunk. Didn’t pay much attention to the world around you. It was a typical day, people passing by, no warning feelings. And, besides, your phone was much more interesting right now.

You did not just think that.

You scowled at your reflection in the glass of the vending machine before picking up your drink.

I hope I get to see you sometime soon so I can appreciate it. :)

You raised an eyebrow at your phone as you ticked open the can and started walking again, taking a crisp sip. It was slightly irritating that he was better at flirting over text than in person. Or maybe it had just been the circumstance. Come to think of it, it would have been weird if he did with Jimin right there, although you were sure Jimin wanted to be there to witness whatever unfolded. The awkwardness was probably just as entertaining to him as it would be if Jungkook had been more forward.

Hmph.

What was more irritating was that you weren’t instantly annoyed by it.

Hmmmmph.

Are you saying you aren’t intimidated by me, Jeon Jungkook?

You hurried home, following the streetlights, breathless, not because you were running, but because you wanted to be home so you could be alone with…

I’m saying I like feeling your effect on me in person.

Him.

-

wednesday.

The next time you saw Jeon Jungkook, you were groaning and setting your forehead on the edge of washing machine, screaming internally. Would have banged it against the metal if you weren’t going to lose a substantial number of brain cells. You were going to pay cash because you wouldn’t get that card surcharge if you did but, of course, of course you had accidentally shorted yourself and pocketed the wrong amount.

Fuck!

Now you were already at the laundromat. Walk back home and lug your shit to and back to get the right amount? Or just forget it and pay the extra charge? You had already put the detergent in. Fuckity fuck fuck. Technically you could go home, it wasn’t that far, but, ugh, it was extra annoying today because you had slept late and now you were grumpily doing your life responsibilities. Come back a different day? No, you had specifically told yourself to get off your ass and get that pile washed. Damnnit, if you hadn’t slept late and scrambled your egg brains, this wouldn’t have happened!

But you had been talking to Jeon Jungkook.

Ending the conversation had been more difficult than you expected. You gritted your teeth, feeling stupid for pulling such a teenage move. Still young, huh? Young and stupid.

Grr.

You heard the metal slide of the money drawer being closed and then an approval ping!

You jumped back, freaked out at the thing you hadn’t done, and then snapped your head to the sudden presence next to you. Dark blue jeans with giant holes at the knees. Gray hoodie sliding off a built right shoulder. White ribbed tank top. Messy black hair. A piercing, no, two on the right side of open lips.

Big, round, dark brown eyes.

You noticed he was wearing a few silver rings himself.

“Um… hi? I noticed you were short a little so I just…” Jeon Jungkook trailed off, giving you a hopeful look.

You gawked at him.

“What are you doing here?”

Ouch. A little too snappy. Jungkook faltered, those peepers shifting. “Ah… well…”

You bit your tongue and reeled it back. “Sorry. I didn’t expect to see you, is all. Obviously, you came here to wash your clothes like everyone else.”

He reached up and scratched the back of his head nervously. Wait. Why was he looking at you like that?

“W-Well, actually… Jimin-ssi told me you normally come here on Wednesdays to do laundry and I was nearby so I figured., maybe, I’d just check if you were here…”

You stared at him.

“You’re stalking me?”

“N-No!” Jungkook sputtered, waving his hands frantically even though you hadn’t raised your voice.

There was a bristle to your tone though. Indignation and frigidity you couldn’t hide. You frowned, narrowing your eyes, cornering him with your gaze. There were only a few people on this slow day, which was why you picked Wednesday to do laundry, but all the patrons had AirPods or other earbuds in, busying themselves with their shoving of clothing in and out of the washers and dryers. No one was going to interrupt anyway.

Not their business.

“I… I…”

“And how did you recognize me anyway? My head was down,” you remembered, advancing on him, and Jungkook took a step back, swallowing hard. Your outfit was baggy too, dark denim jacket and jeans, the tight black tank hidden by the bulk.

“I couldn’t forget how beautiful your hair is,” he mumbled out quickly, looking a little too mesmerized by your fierceness. Forget that. “And your hands were on the edge of the washer. Your rings. The star chain bracelet you wear. I…”

He was fixated on your collarbones and the thin black choker around your neck.

Or lower.

“Oi! My face is up here,” you hissed, snaping your fingers and making him jerk his head. He had stopped backing up though. You pointed at him, somewhat rudely. Actually, very rudely, but whatever. “What do you mean, check if I was here? And who told you? That idiot. I’ll kill him.”

And why was Jungkook looking at you like that?

Like he thought you were hot when angry.

He better stop that shit because you were losing your irate demeanor for some fuckin’ reason.

“I texted you almost all night. That wasn’t enough?” you half-growled, half whispered.

A tiny head shake.

Ah, shit.

You deliberately did not think that was cute.

“I liked it so much that I…” Oh no, oh no, not that honest tremble and deep gaze into your eyes. “I was hoping I could talk to you again, in person, more bravely this time.”

You opened your mouth to sink in that verbal bite and nothing came out.

The entire laundromat could flood right now and you wouldn’t even notice because you were staring at Jeon Jungkook and wondering if this audacity was freaking annoying or freaking impressive. Not this damn guy within two days leaving you speechless. Well… actually, no, never mind the technicalities.

“Are you even thinking before you do things?” you grumbled, not yet backing down.

Jungkook stuck his hands in his hoodie pockets suddenly. Hm? Nervous and shaking? You couldn’t tell, but you watched him closely, observing his body language, your eyes following those lines.

“Mmmm…” He bit the left side of his lower lip. “No?”

You strongly resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

Shy smile greeting you, accompanying the lip bite.

“I’m just listening to my heart.”

Now you visibly cringed. “Don’t say stuff like that.” Looking away slightly, somehow unable to meet those honest eyes.

“Why? You don’t like it?” Genuinely curious.

“You don’t mean it.” He did mean it and you could see that he meant it but you did not want to admit that you knew that he meant it. Yeah. “You barely know me. We only talked over text.”

“But you gave me thoughtful, frank answers. I don’t believe that you were being dishonest,” Jungkook protested, following you over to the tables a few steps away from the washing machines. You dragged your laundry bag with you and kept your voice down.

“I told you, I’m a straightforward an honest person. I won’t lie to you. And I won’t hesitate to cut you off if you lie to me,” you reminded him.

He nodded. You wanted to shake him and yell at him to stop giving you those eyes. “So I just decided to do what I wanted to.”

You cocked your head at him in disbelief. “You didn’t think you went too far?”

What was with that mischievous smile? “I’m the all-in type.”

You let out a puff of air.

“Also, you haven’t told me directly that you don’t like it,” Jungkook pointed out, leaning toward you, smiling.

You gave him a deadpan stare. “You don’t get me,” you said back flatly.

Those dark brown orbs sparkled. “That’s okay. I don’t have to get you to think you’re cool, clever, and stunning.”

Your eyebrow twitched.

“And why do you say that? Because you see how people look at me? Because you enjoyed my useless facts and tangents last night? Because you think with your dick?” You added the last question with bite, leaning forward too, having enough of this, not really him but…

The fact that you didn’t want to tell him to fuck right off.

Silence.

Jungkook was staring into your eyes.

“The shape of your eyes is so… perfect.”

You felt your ears heat.

He raised a finger and traced the air right in front of your left eye, the scent of his clean cologne drifting in your direction. “The way they sharpen in the inner corner, like a bird of prey… And your irises are so dark and striking…”

You grabbed his finger out of the air.

“Don’t be… weird.”

Why did you pause? Hello? No way you’re being like this over this guy right now.

You pointedly pulled his hand down, pinning it to the table. “Pay attention.”

Jungkook was giving you this dreamy, hazy expression. “Huh? What were you saying?”

You narrowed your eyes. “You can’t even listen.”

He leaned in closer and you caught a whiff of that delicious cologne again. “Sorry. I will. Say it again, please. I’ll listen carefully.”

The fuck were you saying again? The lights of the old laundromat flickered but you barely noticed. A common occurrence in these ol’ mom-and-pop places. And, besides, you were staring at this determined, patient smile and mentally shoving down those butterflies that you definitely weren’t feeling, nope, violently compacting those distracting internalizations into a tiny, windowless box.

“You don’t seem very good at listening,” you finally said, tight and even.

“I am,” he insisted softly. “I promise.”

“I’m too much for you.”

Or was Jungkook too much for you?

“I’m offering all of me,” he whispered to the shared air between you and him. “It might not be enough so I’ll be to work hard and do my best.”

What was he so earnest for? You hesitated, the edges to your hard demeanor softening. You didn’t want to trust stuff like this. It was so easy to get burned and you wanted to be the one to do the burning. And how could you trust people? Even you didn’t say everything out loud. Some things you could say and some you couldn’t say. It was too much trouble to believe in someone.

You had never received unburdened kindness when you were younger.

“We’re not on the same page.”

Jungkook tilted his head. “Aren’t we? But you’re reading me easily and I’m doing my best to learn about you too.”

Your shoulders released the tension. “Don’t pretend with me. It’s clear you’re a relationship kind of guy. And, while I’m not against them, I can’t deliver the same kind of devotion you are willing to give. Can’t you see that?” You removed your hand from his, not realizing it was still there.

His fingertip traced a line on the back of your hand.

Sparks raced along the base of your head.

You remained stern, feeling heavy and hot in your clothes.

“Why do you say that? You don’t think you’re loyal?” he asked very sincerely.

Your eyes narrowed. “Of course, I am. If I like you in that way and you asked me to bury a body, I’d already be digging the grave. But I’m not a flowers-and-chocolate kind of girl. That’s not how I show affection.”

You had no idea how far your clothes were in the cycle. The whole world could crash down and you would still be staring at Jungkook and his body language. His shoulders slouched a little more so he could look up at you with those pleading eyes.

Inhale still in your throat.

“Then, do you not like me?”

Say something.

But you didn’t say anything at all, gazing down at Jeon Jungkook and wondering why you couldn’t get through his thick skull that you were a bad decision. Honestly? Honestly, fine, it was because you grew up with parents that never liked each other nor their kids. Honestly, it was because you grew up too fast and with too much independence to not see the filthiness of the world. Honestly, it was because you saw the finicky innate nature of humanity of never devoting themselves to anything, much less anyone, and why would they?

People were crazy.

Call it personal experience.

You sighed.

“Jungkook, I’m not gonna lie to you. I fuck before I care about anybody. I’m only living to get my pleasure and not take care of anyone, okay? I’m barely keeping my own head together. I’m blunt. I don’t need or want romantic gestures. I just want dick. There. I’m not a good person.”

He was smiling.

Aw, shit.

“I must be favored to know you.”

You twitched, tucking your tongue in your cheek to avoid scowling, which was pretty much scowling anyway, so you failed spectacularly.

“Also, you haven’t said you don’t like me,” Jungkook pointed out. Infuriatingly. “Because it’s not true and you don’t lie. Right?” He said your name with a little too much sweetness and knowing.

You yanked your hand out of his and shoved his hard, muscular chest. He bounced back, grinning a little too happily. You told yourself to hate it and you didn’t. Fuck. “What are you even still doing here? Gonna fold my clothes for me or something?”

The energy at being offered a household chore was disturbing. “Oh! I can! I’m very good at doing laundry. And washing dishes. And cleaning. I like doing that stuff.”

“Sure, you do,” you puffed sarcastically,

“I do,” Jungkook insisted, coming around the table. “And I’m good at it.”

You scrutinized him up a down. “Yeah? Because you don’t know where else to put all that energy of yours?”

His lips parted but all he did was gawk at you. Oop. Right on the money. You were liking this expression a little too much. Maybe it was time to lower these walls a bit. After all, it didn’t seem like Jungkook was going to go away any time soon. He was pretty harmless anyway.

“I could drain you in a night,” you chuckled, smirking.

The tips of his ears were getting red at your lowered tone.

“You think you could keep up?”

-

thursday.

Ugh, it was one of those days that fuckin’ suuuucked.

Woke up late and had to rush to get dressed and bounce, then got to work and some shit was going down about missing documents and people moving papers they shouldn’t have, forcing you to play manager because everyone else had no goddamn spine to fix anything. This department would be a disaster without you. To top it all off, you had people stalling, keeping an irrelevant conversation going, leading you on a wild goose chase with no funny honking – turns out the documents were in some random copier right behind you, for fuck’s sake – and you had a very strong inkling it was because of what you looked like.

Which was fine.

Unless you were actually trying to do your job.

Then, one of your side dishes you had brought for lunch had gone off, so you ended up slightly less full than you wanted to be, and you forgot your jacket at work, leaving it hanging on the back of your chair in your rush to leave, and the train halted several stations before your stop because there was some emergency maintenance or some shit.

Fuckity fuck.

It wouldn’t be so annoying it if wasn’t so windy, but it was and you were wearing a sheer sweater with splashes of jewel-toned colors and a longline black sports bra under it – you had worn your jacket half-zipped until your boss had left in the middle of the day and your co-workers didn’t care how you looked, the dress code was stupid anyway – and black jeans, mid-rise. The rules were more about being covered up rather than being professionally dressed.

The job was primarily sitting at a desk and sorting documents, did it matter how you looked?

Or maybe you just broke the rules a little because you were a rebel.

Your stomach growled angrily and you told it to shut the fuck up.

You stood on the corner halfway between work and home, debating on whether or not to do some damage. The problem was you didn’t have any of the usual bad habits most people had. You didn’t drink, so getting stupid drunk and getting thrown out of the noraebang was out of the question. Also, you couldn’t sing. But, anyway, you barely took medicine, let alone know where or how to procure the illegal fun stuff, so that was also out. You didn’t have a sweet tooth either so you couldn’t down a whole cake with gusto, although that sounded like a great way to go.

You sulked.

You had an addiction, but you just stared at the names in your phone and felt guilty. Guilty! For what? For some guy you met literally less than four days ago? Ugh, no, this couldn’t be you right now. Seriously? Seriously? You crossed and stalked up the block, not yet deciding what to do so you kept walking until you figured it out during this internal battle. You had to keep this guy at a distance. Okay, yes, you could admit you liked him.

And that was the problem.

If you didn’t really like him, you could just fuck him and establish those hard boundaries. No issue. You had been in love before but that was a long time ago and ultimately you ended it because it wasn’t right and you weren’t good enough to be devoted to.

You breathed out hard, the unease spilling out of your insides.

It was definitely easier to not expect anything from anyone. You had spent a lot of life not having and, ultimately, not needing to rely on others, both out of necessity and simply having too much to work on by yourself. Years of fighting off bitterness that you had always tasted, years of letting go of important moments realizing that supposedly important people in your life would never be there for them, years of lashing out and becoming the shadow of the abuse you endured. Eye for an eye and all that. Keep the cycle going, until you had that moment in the eye of the storm to get hit by lightning and realize that this wasn’t right.

It wasn’t any particular thing.

Just finally accepting the creeping self-awareness that you had been miserable and were making other people miserable on purpose because you tore them open and took their hearts to find yours.

Metaphorically, duh.

So now you sort of did this martyr shit of being there for people when you could and not asking for anything back. Especially not a relationship. Intimate to heal a heart and then give it away, which totally worked if they weren’t into you, just into what you could do.

You didn’t really feel it yourself but you did get sex out of it.

Bad addiction, yeah.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket.

You ignored it.

Stepped into a chicken place and stood in line, feeling the weight of your world on your shoulders. You brain tried to reason with you that it was Jeon Jungkook’s own fault if he got hurt. He was the one who chose to spend all that time sitting at the laundromat with you talking about random shit. Your favorite video game – Persona 5, excelling in your top three most important things about a video game: music score, gameplay, and art style. Your favorite American rapper – Ludacris and the way he could rhyme the weirdest words. Your favorite movie genre – surrealist psychedelic drug movies, which earned you a confused head tilt. You had asked Jungkook what he liked. Mood lamps. Singing. Watching cooking videos on YouTube.

Had asked him if he believed in soulmates.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket as you ordered at the kiosk and paid.

You don’t think I could have met you in another life?

You stood with the other waiting patrons, ignoring everybody and your phone thrumming against your hip, thinking about last night.

I probably broke your heart.

Thinking about that smile with two piercings and a lip mole. That smile didn’t trust your answer at all.

Maybe the universe is giving me another chance to make up for my past mistakes. I can’t give up.

You made a face at past Jungkook’s answer, too taken aback all those hours ago to scowl properly. Maybe you had been too tired. Too worn down by his earnest nonsense to fight it properly at that moment. Your hand hovered over you hip, wondering if you should check it. Then dropped.

What, did you need to see him every day or something?

Your name was called and you stepped up to receive your order.

Oh, fuck, you miss him.

You yanked your phone out of your pocket and stared at it as you walked out of the restaurant, only to get plopped by a fat raindrop on the lit-up screen. You looked up to the gray sky and let out a hiss.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

You turned around and sat down, grumbling as rain poured down and you replied to Jungkook’s texts.

Stupid.

Not him. Just you.

-

friday.

“What are you trying so hard for?” you snapped.

“Why aren’t you trying hard enough?” Jeon Jungkook shot back.

It was going really well.

Clearly.

You let out a hiss and flicked your hands as if you were trying to physically get rid of his reply. Argh, this… man! The thundering rain was pouring down, down, and you were both standing under a bus stop with no intention of taking the bus. You bit back the volume of your sudden anger. There was no need to yell anyway. No one was coming out in the thick of this monsoon.

Only you and crazy-ass Jeon Jungkook.

Switched tactics. "And what makes you think your virgin ass–"

"I'm not a virgin!"

"You are here!"

And you jammed two fingers into that very muscular chest, right next to the left side of his sternum. Too fast to be stopped. The shove actually made him stumble. Or maybe it was the utter shock of the verbal and physical double jab combined with the deep growl that your voice had suddenly become. His racer jacket and black hair were slick with rain. Half of his white t-shirt soaked. Even the front of his blue jeans drenched.

You panted hard after your outburst, the anger draining away all in a flash of lightning.

Jungkook stared at you with stricken eyes.

The rain pelted down, down, beating into the silence.

“How did you know?” he breathed out.

You didn’t but somehow you did, feeling something inside of you break. Not afraid of the world. Never, never again. No, afraid of what you could do, afraid of breaking something this pure, because you broke your first love too and that past guilt still lingered. Not that you thought Jungkook loved you. He couldn’t This was only the fifth day of him knowing you.

The fuck is going on?

“I see your type all the time,” you sighed, your damp hair all over your face. “Looking for light in black holes instead of stars.” The rain had slipped off your black leather jacket. Your cropped band shirt wasn’t wet, but your black cargo pants were sodden knees down.

This coldness, however, didn’t come from the rain.

“You really should stop. For your own good.”

You looked away from him, feeling as if your own words had pierced bullet holes into your walls. Dark sky, never-ending rain, cars struggling to drive, people running with umbrellas and ponchos, arms huddled close to their bodies, and here you were just standing here in the rain, the world acting out your mind. How nice. You thought you had come to terms with everything, but obviously not. Somehow once you saw Jungkook again, once you felt his presence again, the pull was even stronger and the storm was even more intense and the worst part was that you didn’t want to leave.

You heard Jungkook’s soft, silvery voice through the gray rain.

“Why are you blaming yourself for shit that hasn’t even happened yet?”

You turned your head to look into those pleading brown eyes.

Lightning shot across the sky.

Thunder followed seconds after, eating up the night.

“W… What?”

He shook his head, dripping water.

“You haven’t hurt me. You don’t mean to, either.”

That smile, his hand extended, the inked snake on his wrist showing.

You stared at Jeon Jungkook with droplets beading on your skin but those goosebumps weren’t from the weather. Jerked your head away. What is with this gentleness? How could he know anything? He couldn’t know anything. He was just an airhead who watched too many dramas and made others believe that they could be real.

“Noona?”

You whipped your head to Jungkook, shocked at his use of the honorific. He only used it when Jimin was at the meal. Afterwards, the conversations had been clearly directed at you. Not completely informal speech, but sometimes you slipped and he did too. You never corrected him because, well.

You slapped his hand away.

Nothing was going to happen.

You closed the distance and grabbed his head, pressing your lips to his shaking ones.

It was going to be terrible. Cold. Wet. Acidic from the lingering feelings. There was no way that this kiss could be anything else with this setting.

This was real life.

Not a story.

Your hands cupped his cheeks and you sunk into his kiss. The hard edge of his jewelry and the softness of his breath, caught by your mouth, your eyes already screwed shut, nothing to do but feel, feel the way he instantly pressed back and set his hands on your elbows, pulling you closer, shuddering as your forearms pressed to his chest. A weird feeling, like two fires melting together, prickling racing across your skin, no, deeper, past your ribs and into your heart.

The storm raged on.

You snapped out of the kiss, nose to nose, water trickling in places it shouldn’t, over your eyelashes and down your neck, feeling fingers graze across your elbows. Slipping under the leather. Droplets soaking into your shirt and then warm hands lingering at the curve of your exposed waist.

Tracing your lines.

“Fuck,” you muttered.

And you kissed Jeon Jungkook again.

-

saturday.

No, you didn’t take him home. You’re reckless, yeah.

But you knew how that would go.

Not that Jungkook didn’t try. Maybe you would have done it, if you weren’t the equivalent of wet cat and equally torrenting emotions. His hands around your waist, pulling you closer, heat blossoming between layers of rain-drenched clothing, kiss after kiss, your hands in his hair, tangling those dark waves into wilderness, getting more and more breathless, heady with a feeling you knew but didn’t want to believe in.

For someone who hated lying, you sure enjoyed lying to yourself.

You had reasons.

How could this time be different if it was just following the same trajectory that you always followed?

You had to pry yourself from him, lips tingling, tongue curling, feeling your blood course through your veins and your heartbeat as loud as thunder, opening your eyes to his blissed-out expression, his own eyes still closed, pressing his lips together to savor your taste.

Damn.

You had wanted to tell him to stop it, stop it with all this falling, you were being dragged down by his vibe, clothes feeling heavy, desperate to be stripped away, but you kept your hands along the sides of his head, your exhale escaping but giving you away like a bad con artist.

Those shimmering dark eyes had opened, following Jungkook’s smile.

“You’re a great kisser, noona.”

His hands stayed on your waist, drumming his fingertips on your skin, tangible kisses creating invisible but no less real electricity.

You scoffed, corner of your lips rising.

“Shut up.”

Tendrils of his black-brown hair clung to his forehead. The rain drummed but it had lessened a bit. You had looked back to his eyes, defeated.

“Shut up so I don’t miss you more.”

One last, drawn-out kiss, tongue to tongue and you had broken from him, warning him sternly.

“Don’t follow me.”

Ran all the way home, face burning, not even feeling the rain even though it was still falling.

Now, present time, you sat at this boring farewell party in some fancy hotel with the sun blaring outside. Figures the nice weather would come out when you would have to stuff yourself in a fitted blazer dress and pretend to care about your boss’s boss retiring. Black, of course. For the formal occasion. Sadly, no one was dying except this old coot’s career.

Maybe you were a little salty that you couldn’t retire yet.

You looked down at your phone, which was on silent, noticing you had a new message.

ㅎ.ㅎ

O… Okay. Whatever that face was supposed to mean. You didn’t even bother to answer. Couldn’t, anyway, forced to plaster on a mildly interested expression as your boss gave a speech that you zoned out of. There were multiple large circular tables in the hotel ballroom. Outside the ballroom was an outdoor area with the buffet. Everyone had served themselves before sitting down, but, first, a few words.

A few was turning out to be too many and your salmon was getting cold.

Employees had been allowed to bring plus ones. Wives and husbands. There were a few empty seats, and a few significant others popped in mid-speech, trying to be quiet and politely bowing in apology. Of course, they weren’t required to be on time, having other obligations and such.

You twitched.

Was that why this was dragging on? So everyone could eat at once? For fuck’s sake, who cared if they were late. Then you noticed your boss’s wife stepping in, looking pretty and put-together in a forest green high-necked dress, holding the small hand of a kid in a lopsided children’s tuxedo with an equally confused expression.

Oh.

Come on.

You suddenly felt a disturbance in the Force.

“Excuse me. Sorry, sorry.”

You whipped your head around to see Jeon Jungkook in a black pinstripe suit cha-cha sliding in the empty chair next to you, picking up your black velvet purse and holding it out to you with a grin that made his large, dark brown eyes light up.

You gawked at him.

“Hey. Sorry I’m late.” He added your name politely and with affection, smooth as butter, criminal undercover. Even the honorific, oh, shit.

The blood drained out of your face and you tried not to think about how your co-workers sitting at the table were staring at you and him like you both had three heads. Of course, no one was supposed to be talking, so no one asked questions yet, but that was definitely going to start the second your boss was finished with his sentence.

You took your purse without another word and glared at Jungkook with such fire that you hoped he burned alive at the spot. Oh, this could turn into a murder and a funeral real fucking fast. All he did was give you those shining big peepers that made you want to strangle him. In an unsexy way.

For now.

You leaned over as the clapping started. He caught on and delicately leaned over, offering his ear to your lips.

“The fuck are you doing?”

Jungkook turned his head so only you could hear his whisper.

“I was nearby, so I figured…?”

You stared at him, plumb slack-jawed at this audacity.

He closed the distance and gently kissed your cheek. You ticked your head almost robotically, piercing eyes following his playful ones, and now you wondered if Jeon Jungkook was truly not right in the head or perfect for you.

Well.

You weren’t right in the head either.

You did text him earlier this morning that you needed to come to this party at this hotel to send off this important retiree. If you missed this, then it would have reflected poorly on you, especially when you wanted to keep your job, so, yes, it was part of the reason why you had not attempted to convince Jungkook to sleep over – not that he needed any convincing whatsoever – and the other reason was to get enough sleep so you could tolerate socializing. Did you think Jungkook was gonna finesse his way into the seat next to you? Hell no. Did you think he was gonna dress smartly and with his black hair parted neatly in the center, fuckin’ black tie pressed and collar pinned? Fuck, no.

Did you think you would like it?

No!

“How did you get them to let you in?” you hissed under your breath.

Jungkook was clapping like a seal because everyone else was. A champagne bottle was being popped. He looked systematically impressed and awed. Amazing acting. “I just said I was with you.” Glanced at you and grinned, the silver piercings on his lip gleaming. A hoop and a stud. “Aren’t I, noona?”

The urge to growl at him to shut the fuck up was silenced by your brain reminding you to be safe-for-work.

You felt a poke at your sleeve. Your co-worker sitting at your left, bleach-blond and with the curiosity of a child. Full of sudden comments and questions too, just like a kid.

“Oh, oh! You never mentioned anything about a boyfriend!” Because you didn’t have one until right now, apparently. “So handsome!” Yes, he was. You had taste. “How did you meet?” Circumstances beyond your control.

“Through a… friend.”

That was a very generous word for instigator Park Jimin.

Jungkook poked his head past you and waved. “Hi! Nice to meet you.” He was using you as a shield to avoid directly interacting with these people he didn’t know. Just chiming in with polite nods as you introduced him to the table and sitting back to let you have this uninvited spotlight that was burning you like the sun did to vampires.

Pretty close, in all honesty.

“Aw, what a sweet guy. It’s nice to meet you too. I didn’t think your type was so young and cute.”

You almost made a face of distaste. “You thought my type was old and ugly?” Oop, there goes your sharp tongue.

“Nooo.” You tried not to flinch at the playful slap of your arm. “More mature, maybe? But this is better. You don’t have to be so serious. Look at his smile! I bet that’s what drew you in.”

You glanced at Jungkook and he appropriately smiled big at the right time. Somehow, he had obtained a plate of steak. How, you didn’t care. You narrowed your eyes just a sliver. Jungkook did not stop smiling but there was at least an iota of fear in those big brown eyes. Speaking of vampire, maybe you should suck the life out of him because he was being too fuckin’ much.

“Well, he was persistent to put it lightly. Might as well give him the chance to win me over.”

Jungkook beamed like a billion-kilowatt lightbulb. Or a crystal chandelier. It depended if you wanted to say the light came from his white teeth or sparkling eyeballs.

Fuckity fuck.

You wanted to rub your temples but refrained.

You would never recover from this.

“Are you mad at me?” Jungkook asked you later.

Oh, now he wondered if you’re mad. You didn’t even look at him, dragging him away from the crowd by the elbow. Hopefully you had stayed long enough but there had been so many of the same questions that you were either getting dizzy or murderous. Hm. Why not both?

“I’m not mad at you,” you muttered.

“You kinda sound mad.”

“I’m not mad but I’m gonna get mad if you keep saying I am,” you warned. “Don’t start a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

“A what?”

“Where did you park?”

His voice became small even though he was right next to you. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

The sun was blaring down on the open parking lot, it was annoyingly humid, you were socially drained, and this, not this. You spun abruptly, too much crashing down too fast, flinging Jungkook’s arm from you.

“No,” you hissed out. “No. Don’t you dare take it back. You wanna be crazy and drive me crazy, fine, do it, keep doing it, don’t stop, but own up. I’ve got enough push-and-pull jammed into my head and I don’t need you adding to it.”

It was so easy to simply give in to the rising anger, but you found yourself locked into Jungkook’s wide, taken-back eyes, drowning in them, deeper than the ocean, seeing how rueful he was.

“Don’t do that to me,” you sighed.

At least your voice didn’t crack. You didn’t want to be angry anyway.

You raised your hand to cup his cheek but paused, not knowing anymore what was what. Always been so sure until the world started getting flipped upside down by Jeon Jungkook. You always knew all of the things to do to make someone interested, all the things to say to make them swoon, and now you didn’t know anything at all because this guy showed up and jumped right in, not even caring about the damages, the fine print, or the past that lingered.

Why are you blaming yourself for shit that hasn’t even happened yet?

Jungkook leaned forward and completed the curve of his cheek into your hollow palm, now looking at you eye-to-eye with a curious expression.

The corner of your lips curved upwards.

You leaned forward, saying your next words very seriously.

“You. Are. Crazy.”

-

sunday.

You sat against the window, waiting for the document to print out.

No one was in the office. You had rolled over here out of sheer boredom, looking up at the gray-blue sky and watching shafts of sunlight phase in and out. Overtime to prepare documents for Monday. You hadn’t bothered to follow dress code, but there was a breeze today, so you wore brown plaid trousers and an old vintage t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. The faded album cover of Papa Roach’s Infest. Your oversized black leather jacket was on the back of your office chair once again.

You spun in your chair, the print job long done.

Thought back on the week.

Day one, awkward dinner and the start of a rollercoaster.

Day two, clutching your phone and waiting for replies due to the spotty service of the subway.

Day three, washing machines and dryers and long conversations.

Day four, shitty day with a nice ending to more texts. Better service too.

Day five, cold rain and warm lips.

Day six, surprise! You have a boyfriend and everybody knows!

You got up and wandered to the copier. Stacked everything up and clipped the right parts together, setting it on your boss’s desk. Glanced at the time at your computer. The blank screensaver abruptly appeared, showing you your blurred reflection.

Your fingertips lingered on your chest, the soft, worn fabric of the shirt reminding you of night after tumultuous night of the past. Time that made you, you. Scars you made by holding on too tightly to pain others gave you. The thought of scars in others that you started and they held on to. Repenting, in a way, healing the hearts that came in your path with intimacy and the passion you were afraid to show Jeon Jungkook because what if, what if…

What if it actually matched well?

“You,” Park Jimin had said to you months ago, “You need someone who thinks of you as their whole world.”

“I don’t want that.”

“You don’t want it. But you need it.”

You didn’t have Park-Jimin-being-right on this year’s bingo card, fuck.

You clocked out and collected your stuff, turning off the lights as you left the office, black boots the only solid sound around you, pulling out your phone to check the address one more time.

“Why are you wearing clothes?” you asked accusingly.

“Um…?”

You gripped the sides of the denim jacket and yanked it off his shoulders, pinning Jeon Jungkook’s arms to his sides. He immediately yelped but you silenced him by stepping through the door and pulling him to you by the button placket, tracing the edge of his open lips with your tongue.

“W-Wait, noona, the d-door…”

“I don’t care.”

Kissed him, deeply.

That now familiar scent, closer, slipping your tongue between his lips, succumbing to the flutters. In, out, feeling him collapse under you and moan in his throat, hard body stumbling into yours, hand haphazardly smacking the edge of the door.

It closed behind you.

You rolled your body into his, closer than close with too many layers in between, tangling his arms in his own jacket, swallowing his gasp and feeling him wiggle determinedly to free his hands and then they were on your face, strong fingers fanning out over your jaw, his jacket falling to the floor, hungrily following your tongue and lips with his own.

Something addicting about the addition of metal to those soft mouth.

This was your forte, the ability to make fantasies come true, and you took it seriously, throwing your bag onto the table by the door and shedding the protective layer of leather. Pressed chest to chest, holding his head and tracing his lips, slow fucking them, running your fingertips over the curve of his ears and making him shiver, noting the three hoops along his left ear.

Pressed your hands down his chest, over the smooth ribbed white tank molding to his muscular torso, down, down, kissing past his lips, to that mole underneath, down his chin, his head tipping back, your name drifting above your head as you kissed down his neck, the sharp clean scent of his cologne getting stronger.

“I thought… we were… o-oh, g-going out…”

“I’m gonna fuck you,” you breathed into his collarbones, hot and low, nicking his skin with your teeth and making him shiver. “Right now. Tonight. Maybe tomorrow too.” Undid the button of his jeans with some effort, yanking him towards you again and molding your hips to his, thighs to hard thighs, and that stiffness wasn’t only a sturdy zipper. “Tuesday as well. Fuck it.”

“The whole week,” Jungkook gasped as you unzipped his charcoal jeans.

“Yeah, good, you’re keeping up,” you murmured and grabbed his head again, catching a fistful of his black hair, kissing him hard with your other palm pressed to his hardness. Your tongue tracing the edge of his lips, breathing into his mouth and swallowing Jungkook’s wanton moan, intoxicated by the moment.

You pulled back just to yank your shirt over your head, tossing it to the floor.

It took longer for it to float down than for you to get on your knees.

“Woah…!”

Hooked your fingers on the elastic waistband of his Calvin Kleins and tugged them down, exhaling over that thick length that popped out. He smelled clean, like he had just showered, and you half-smiled, approving, closing the distance to curl your tongue around hard taut skin.

“Ooooh… fuuuuuuuck…”

Tightly taking control, using only your tongue to scoop around his girth and flick against his balls. Kisses, licks, flutters of breath, all of it, sensation after sensation, layering on the heat, adding sweetness to the obscene, his twitching cock hitting your cheek as you pressed kisses to his balls.

“Let me show you something,” you hummed and swallowed his pride.

Jungkook gasped so loud that his hands shot up to his mouth, fingers laced over his moan, one inked arm and one tan one, tilting his head back as your lips closed around him, softly, your tongue cupping the head, caressing the underside, the slit, letting him throb against wet muscle. Pushed him up to the roof of your mouth and slowly, in and out, rubbing the base of the head against your lips every time you ascended, fanning your fingers over his crotch to hold the base and cup his balls in between your index and thumb. Steady and consistent, sucking him off with deliberate precision.

You had a lot of fancy skills to show off but, for this first time, might as well give him the stripped-down version.

Heh.

So you blew Jungkook at his front door in your bra and pants with his clothes half-on and struggling to breathe.

“A-Ah, so s-soft… and so tight… h-how…”

You didn’t speed up. Didn’t put in more force. Used your whole torso, not just your head and neck, to avoid strain, holding his hips to take him deeper but at the same pace, letting the orgasm build with his heart rate, running your thumbs over his balls, a gentle caress, closing your eyes to savor it. Hard and twitching, but you didn’t let him disturb what you had going on, extending out the minutes, saturating every second with flowing, unavoidable bliss.

What?

You could match his vibe with your kind of romance.

You heard Jungkook’s pitch hike and the muscles under your fingers all tensed up. You spared a look upwards, but he wasn’t looking at you, shoving his hands into his messy black hair, displaying his prominent triceps, and moaning to the ceiling, dragging his bangs over his eyes.

“Oh my God, I’m cumming, fuuuuck…!”

You pillowed your tongue around the head and his salty orgasm flooded your mouth, spilling out and down your throat, but you cupped what you could and coated the sensitive head, pleased to hear Jungkook’s shudder and whimper of ecstasy, gripping his hair and pulling. The close-fitted nature of his tank top left nothing to the imagination, the aftershock rippling up his chest, even his hardened nipples poking against the fabric.

You swallowed.

Jungkook moaned and his head fell back again, his eyes probably rolled back.

Gotta finish him off right.

You licked around him carefully, cleaning him off and keeping him hard.

“You…”

Cocked an eyebrow as you shifted your eyes up, his cock buried in your throat, pulsing your muscles around his length. His chin was on his chest, wayward dark curls hanging down, shaking wide eyes watching you with fascination, his shaking voice full of awe.

“You know… how porn calls it a mouth-pussy? I really thought that shit was fake and sounded stupid, but… you have a mouth-pussy.”

You blinked at him and tried not to snort out in laughter.

You just raised both eyebrows and flicked his balls with your tongue. A few seconds later, you pulled back and countered with, “Really? Mouth-pussy? That’s how you show gratitude for the best suck of your life?”

“B-But it’s true!”

You shook you head and waved a hand at him.

“Clothes. Off.”

Every hour, every minute, every second.

Full of sex.

Jungkook wasn’t lying. He wasn’t a virgin. He was a little too good at fingering to be a virgin. Well, you hadn’t had his dick yet but it was pretty obvious with the slow circles on your clit and the kissing of your collarbones. Clothes didn’t even make it to the bedroom. Most of them were left by the door. Your shoulder blades and ass touching the bed, his other hand along your back and tracing your spine as he kissed across your breasts, shyly shifting his gaze back to your face to constantly check if you were enjoying it, not quite confident that he was making your heart flutter. You smirked back at him, taking his hand and pressing his fingers to your wet slit, pushing them in yourself.

He breathed out with you, watching your face as the pleasure snaked out from your core.

Two of them, taking it slow, but you shook your head and pressed his down, your hard nipple against his lips, and he followed your lead, faster, harder, your inner walls clenching around him, sighing deeply as the pleasure flowed, soft licks and tracing tongue. You let him have it, the slower, more romantic pace, spreading your fingers over his sheets and thrusting into his hand, adding to the pleasure, and Jungkook’s eyes glittered, kissing from one nipple to another with a smile.

“Harder?”

“And faster,” you agreed, licking the air between you and him.

Hey, you weren’t a virgin either and you liked it rough.

He kissed you first, entranced by your tongue, harder, faster, your hips following his hand, entangled in this beat, and then it was back to your nipples, kissing sucking, sparks of sensuality over your skin, your hands diving into his hair. Heat. Roughness. Passion, catching your breath and your head falling back, inhaling his scent and the clean sheets, the orgasm flooding through you, delicately forming his name with your lips.

“Ah, Jungkook…”

You didn’t let it stop there though.

His hand moved to pull out and you clutched his wrist and pushed him back in, your nail catching his ring finger, collecting it too, gasping at the added fullness, and you pulled his left hand out from under your back.

Jungkook watched you curiously as your rode his right hand and turned his left, thumb down.

You fitted it around your neck and positioned it correctly, grinning devilishly at him.

He got the hint.

Slightly unsure at first but you built his confidence, comfortably laying back on his bed and spreading out your fingers, moaning softly for him, rocking your hips into his hand, climbing to the high again, stronger his time. His fingers pressed inwards and you breathed out, savoring the choking, the way time slowed down, the way the sensations heightened, your spine arching, low gasp like heavy smoke, immortalizing the moment in his memory, black pupils blown out in those beautiful dark eyes, leaning forward to run his tongue over your nipples.

Your fingers curled into the sheets, thrusting into his fingers harder.

Lids heavy, drowning in the pleasure, his tongue, his hands, the way he looked at you like you were his whole world, the tension between you and him, sweet and intense and overwhelming, just perfect, your exhale only a thin wisp now, closing your eyes and moaning to the ceiling as you came.

It was a hard, thundering pulse, much more powerful than before, your shivering pussy gripping his fingers and your hips bucking. Thighs snapping closed, whining as you felt the hardness of his tattooed forearm, your head snapping to the side the second he released you, the rushing blood knocking you down and making your nerves sing, strong flinches across your arms and torso. Gasping to catch your breath.

Wasn’t his first time choking, but maybe the first time he got really turned on by it, because Jungkook was ogling you like a three-star Michelin meal.

It was like that all night.

From the first time he entered you, one condom wrapper the start of many, biting the left side of his lip and shuddering – “H-How are you so tight…? I just f-fingered you – oooh!” – and you wrapped around him tightly, smirking a little too smugly, one arm around his neck and one leg on his shoulder. Your fingers petaled around the base of his head, cupping him in the flower of your touch. Your thigh against his hard chest still trembling from your kisses. You angled your hips and he slipped in deeper, groaning in disbelief, his brows furrowing at you.

“H-Hey!”

Your tongue pocketed in the side of your smirk and you fucked him right.

“Gah!”

Jungkook, too, fucked you right.

You lead the pace so he could bring the force of his hips. Ah, fuck, right there, like that, and you let him know, the cries tumbling out and mixing with his, rushing wave after wave pressing into you, filling you with his girth and his power. You brought the intensity, the flint to his flame, the break in his pride and Jungkook was looking down at you, shoulders flexed, jaw tight and eyes hazy, clear emotion swirling within them and you saw your own gaze fixated on him, wanting him more than you wanted the sex.

Oh.

Shit.

You gasped and dug your nails into his scalp, grasping the pillow and throwing your head back, not expecting the suddenness of your high, injected into your heartbeat and pushing all the air out of your lungs, veins ablaze with heat as your core clenched, inner walls throbbing all around him. Jungkook groaned, biting his lower lip and thrusting hard, the small mole underneath shaking just as hard as his shoulders, but he couldn’t hold back any longer, squeezing his eyes shut, muffled scream as he came, his head falling back, two tones the start of an ongoing, wanton melody.

“Holy… fuck…”

Well, more like unholy fuck but you didn’t correct him.

You kind of expected him to pull out and leave, but instead his head snapped back and he dived down, catching your lips and dripping sweat on you, making you both laugh. Kiss after kiss, all over your face, and you could barely sputter out – “Oi, you’re sweaty!” – but he didn’t care, kissing all over your cheeks and down your neck, your chest, slurping at your nipples, you narrowed your eyes at that but those playful eyes just sparkled with deviousness, trailing down, down.

Slowing.

Jungkook pressed his lips to your waist, looking up at you.

Your heart thundered against your chest and sparks danced over your skin.

Somehow at ease.

“What?”

You smiled down at him.

“I don’t ever want to leave your side.”

Your lips parted to give him a snappy comeback, yeah, well, I gotta go to work, but nothing came out.

Jungkook grinned, his whole face lighting up and dove between your legs, biting and kissing the inside of your thighs, attacking them with his menacing mouth.

“Hey! Oi! I’m sensitive, f-fuck!”

Even planting a fat wet kiss on your clit for good measure.

“Ah!”

Shoving his tongue in your pussy.

“YO!”

You gawked at his audacity, twisting away from him. Infuriatingly, he followed, scrambling for your ass.

“There was just a condom in there!”

“Ah, who cares,” said the one that clearly didn’t. “Kiss me.”

“Hell no!”

After cleaning up and pinning him down on his own bed and thoroughly scolding him, somehow you ended up making out with Jungkook and his fingers were in your pussy again. It sounded very wet and squishy down there, probably because you showed Jungkook just now much you liked kisses under your earlobe. His tongue against your skin, teeth nicking, sucking hard and making you moan and grind on his hand, pressing against his chest.

“Sit on my face,” he whispered in your ear.

Which was know you ended up grasping his headboard and his tongue between your legs, the piercing pressed against the left side of the outer lips. You kept your weight on your knees, but Jungkook grabbed your ass and tipped your hips at a different angle, your clit right on his tongue, his nose against your crotch.

“Fuuuuck, you smell so good…”

You could barely hear him but you felt him speak, gasping at the strange sensation of hot breath and swiping tongue, his lips wrapping around your most sensitive nerves. He had a much softer tongue, but there was consistency there and plenty of gusto. It helped, actually, to have his hands gripping your thighs, adding the amplifying pleasure of restraint. You rode his face, matching the movement of his tongue. One of your hands left the headboard. Trapped your nipples between your fingers and pulled at them, making Jungkook’s eyes go wide and watch eagerly, licking and sucking harder.

Layered and intricate, full of sensation and emotion, gazing down at him and smirking as the sparks turned into lightning and you soaked his face, shivering, tipping forward at the flinches of climax, swearing under your thin breath, panting, snapped tension draining you and wetly sticking to his lips, his tongue, his cheeks.

He shoved his tongue into your quivering pussy and you sucked in a breath, feeling your inner walls pulsate around his curling muscle, his low, gravelly moan filling what little air there was between his mouth and you, his satisfaction vibrating through your body and mixing with your afterglow.

You slid down his chest and kissed him again, tasting your subtle sweet-sour on his slick lips.

He wanted you to jack him off hard and fast, the fingers of your other hand splayed out over his chest, forgetting about anything else, time only a construct, your phones discarded by the door, and here, in this bed, there was only Jungkook and you, his cock pulsing in your grip, your foxy expression to his desperate one, his eyes rolling back in the intensity, biting down hard on the left side of his lip, the small mole underneath shaking in anticipation, the tendons of his neck popping out.

You raised your free hand and gently stroked his cheek with your knuckle as you punished his cock.

His lower lip popped out of his mouth and he groaned, rough and breathless.

“A-Ah, fuck!”

A hot stream of liquid dripping down the back of your hand, drenching you and him in the strong scent of sex. Thick and potent, and you leaned forward and kissed him deeply, tightly holding his jerking cock and squeezing it all out of him.

“You’re amazing,” Jungkook panted, even after getting up – once again – to attempt to clean up your collective mess.

“Mhm,” you hummed, sitting beside him. He was radiating heat. “I was never worried about that.”

“Hah… You’re… You’re crazy…”

You had obtained your phone and just now sent a message to your boss that you would be taking a sick day on Monday. You have plenty of those. “Speak for yourself.”

“I mean, you’re like… um… uh, oh! A semen demon…”

“What?”

You almost threw your phone in laughter. Actually, you couldn’t even hear Jungkook’s explanation for what the hell he meant by semen demon because you were laughing too hard, barely able to breathe. There wasn’t a normal explanation anyway – how could there be? – and you kept inelegantly snorting afterward at inappropriate times. Jungkook, for his part, seemed proud for making you laugh so much.

“You look so beautiful laughing.”

Your response was quick, immediate, and lighthearted.

“Shut up.”

He snuggled his still too warm head into the crook of your shoulder.

“Will you stay?”

You gave him a look and then showed him the sent text message on your phone. There was something special and perfect about the smile that lit up his face, clearly showing his devotion and clearly seeing yours.

“Yeah, I’ll stay.”

Jungkook skipped work too. Both of you ended up sleeping in.

--

masterpost

[luveline]

can I request eddie with golden retriever!reader, maybe where she gets upset because she overheard people calling her stupid and he sees her cry for the first time and it breaks his heart bc even though she’s upset, she’s trying to be happy? a big hurt/comfort moment?

thank you so much for your request! i love him so much i just wanna squeeze him <3 fem!reader, 1k

Eddie stands in the doorway, and you're lucky he's around. He looks pretty today in his softest manner, plaid shirt tied around his waist, a shirt with cut off sleeves showcasing the lengths of his arms and all their subtle muscle, inky dark tattoos climbing his skin in whorls. His hand moves forward toward you, pale fingers bright even in the dark room. 

"It's a party," he says, "what are you doing here all by yourself?" 

You wipe your running nose with your sleeve for lack of a tissue. Sniffling, you say, "I just didn't want to cry in front of everyone. I'll be right there." 

Eddie closes the door with an easy swiftness. He flicks on the lamp, and he looks at you like you've pulled the rug from under his sneakers. 

"It's fine," you say quickly. You add a laugh you're not quite feeling, not wanting him to worry about you. "Don't stress." 

"Why are you acting like this isn't a big deal?" he says immediately, no punches held. 

"It's not, everybody cries." 

Eddie sits on the end of the bed. The bedspread is a washed out grey, the room someone else's and unfamiliar. You hadn't wanted to have anyone come upon you messy crying in the bathroom, slipping into the master bedroom without a word. It's weird to be among other people's things. It has the feeling of isolation creeping in all over again.

Eddie puts his hand on your thigh. "What's wrong?" he asks, squeezing gently. 

"It's really not a big deal." 

"Humour me then. What's bad enough to make you cry?" 

You swipe under your eyes, his questioning prompting another wave of useless tears. They well big and drop fast down your cheeks like warm summer rain on your cool skin. "It's really stupid," you say with a wet laugh. You can't wipe your face fast enough.

"This is agony for me, you realise?" he says, in a tone that's not as teasing as his usual dramatics. "Seeing you upset? Tell me who said something mean and I'll kick their ass." 

"No, Eddie, you can't." 

"So someone did say something mean?" he asks. 

You trace the curve of a silver ring on his fingers as his hand rubs a slow back and forth over your jeans. The ache in your spine from slouching forward into your hands twinges as you begin to relax, your upset softened by his comforting touch. You don't answer him, only look at his hand, tear after tear curving along the slope of your cheek to meet under your chin. You bring your shoulder up and wipe your chin into your t-shirt. 

"Hey," Eddie murmurs, patting your leg, "you can tell me. I won't do anything you don't want me to do, but I gotta know what's making you cry." 

You loll your head to the side and give him a sad smile. "D'you ever get the feeling that… that everyone's just pretending to like you?" 

"No, but… that's because people don't bother pretending, with me," he says. 

You nod appreciatively. "Well…" 

"It doesn't matter, I can guess. I can guess how it would feel. You think people are just pretending to like you?" 

"I know so," you say. 

Eddie takes his hand from your thigh. You don't have time to mourn the loss —his arm comes up behind you, fingers curling gently at your hip. "C'mere," he whispers, closing the gap between your sides. 

"People saying shit about you?" he asks. 

"You know Gareth's friend? The shorter one? He was laughing with his girlfriend about how stupid I sounded when I was telling you about that octopus thing and I… I know I sounded stupid, it was basically a joke, you know?" You rest your head on his shoulder. "It's dumb." 

"That wasn't stupid, that was interesting."

"In what world?"

"Hey, I can deal with idiots talking down on you, that's what idiots do, but I won't hear it from you. Okay? Don't piss me off," he warns jokingly, giving your waist a small shake against him. "You're not stupid. Do you know how fucking smart, how unshakeable you have to be to see the good in the world? It's easy to give into cynicism, that's why I do it."

"Eddie," you laugh. 

"So you got excited about something a bit weird," he says, "so what? Why should they get to say that's stupid?" 

"Is it really weird?" you ask. 

"Super fucking weird, babe." 

He sounds pleased to have said it, his smile audible, his breath a warm fanning against your cheek. You know you're moments away from a chaste kiss pressed sneakily to the skin just shy of your ear. 

You're shameful. "Is that bad?" you ask. 

Eddie kisses you as you'd expected, right on the mark. "No," he says resolutely, grinning at you though you can hardly see him, he's so close. "No way. We're weirdos together."

You let him make you feel better with another hug, this one double-armed, the short stubble of his chin scratching your cheek. Hands full of his hair, you squeeze him tight enough to bruise, pleased when he groans and yanks out of your arms. 

"That how it is?" he asks. 

"Isn't it always?" 

Eddie takes your face into rough hands. You're under no illusion —delusion, even— that he might close the inches between you. This is a Munson style telling off, eyes locked to yours, forcing you to listen. 

"You scared the shit out of me, but don't think you have to come and sit in a dark room crying by yourself. That's not okay. That's a bit sick, actually." 

"Are you serious?" 

"As a heart attack." 

He rubs your cheeks childishly, pushing them up so they apple. Then, with much more tenderness, he wipes the tacky triangles of your eyelashes with the tip of his thumb. "No crying in empty rooms. You have to do it when I'm around, so I can make fun of you." 

"You're very charming," you say sweetly. 

Something funny stutters over his face, like a slice of sincerity through his bravado. "Only with you, sweetheart."  

[retroaria]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 boyfriend nagi.ᐟᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⊹ ࣪ ˖ another set of bf headcanons finally !! ⊹ ࣪ ˖

warnings: this is post Blue Lock, not a high school!au

BLUE LOCK M.LIST | enjoy 🌵 - aria

pre-boyfriend!nagi who spends weeks, months even, questioning what exactly it is he feels for you because he just can’t wrap his head around it. doesn’t know why his heart throbs when you say his name, why his hands get sweaty when you sit close to him, why he feels the need to lie about certain things to make himself look better, why he feels the constant urge to just fall into your arms and lay there forever.

pre-boyfriend!nagi who goes to Reo for advice on the matter only to be called an idiot and have his own feelings explained to him at his big age

pre-boyfriend!nagi who now can associate those feelings with wanting a relationship with you, it’s all he thinks about. he yearns for you so bad. wants to have you in his arms, nap with you, teach you how to play games, let you cook for him (and feed him lol), introduce you to choki, show you all his cool soccer moves. it makes him really sad that he can’t just have you already, and it’s gonna be a hassle to ask you out.

pre-boyfriend!nagi who isn’t ready to ask you out but still wants to share his affections with you. He’s very touchy, always hugging you, leaning on your shoulder, brushing strands of hair out of your face so he can see your eyes. Asks you to hang out with him almost every day, even if he knows you’re gonna be busy, he still has to ask just in case you can.

pre-boyfriend!nagi who realizes that holding his feelings in is way more of a hassle than confessing so he does exactly that. He’s very straightforward about it. “Hey, I’ve liked you for a while now. Wanna go on a date?”. If you say yes he’d probably just kiss you on the spot. He hasn’t even taken you on the first date yet but in his head you guys are already dating.

pre-boyfriend!nagi who takes you to an arcade on the first date, beats you at every game, but then wins you a bunch of claw machine stuffies to make up for it.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

boyfriend!nagi who asks you to come live with him early on the relationship. He has such a straightforward mindset that he can’t wrap his head around how you guys are together but not “together”, as in together all the time (if that makes sense). He has to learn the concept of personal space in a relationship and eventually even after you guys start living together understands why he can’t cling to you every second of every day. He’ll still try sometimes and gets sad when you go off to do your own thing but gets over it once he’s preoccupied watching matches or playing games.

boyfriend!nagi who gets jealous very easily, but not in the stereotypical sense. He doesn’t get mad or aggressive when he’s jealous but he’s totally the type to deadpan you with “do you not love me anymore?” If he sees you giving anyone else more attention than him. This feeling he gets isn’t just towards guys or even people your age, it’s anyone. “Why were you talking to that old woman at the store for so long? I was right there.” “Nagi, she was ringing us up, she’s a cashier, it’s her job.” He actually has very little reaction to other guys flirting with you because he simply thinks that’s a stupid thing for them to do and is confident you’ll reject them.

boyfriend!nagi who lets you dress him up, style his hair, do his makeup for fun, would honestly let you give him a tattoo if you really wanted to. His mind doesn’t have negative preconceived notions about many things, and he thinks it’s adorable watching you have fun with him. Really likes when you do his hair just so he can feel your hands on his scalp. Same with doing his makeup, thinks both activities are relaxing and hassle free bonding moments for you two. All he has to do is sit there and look pretty.

boyfriend!nagi who mentions you unconsciously all the time. Along with football and video games, you’re a focal point of his life and you’ve become integrated in almost everything he does or thinks about. So much so that when responding to questions and such, he’ll say “we” more often than ”I”. “Nagi, did you get a chance to watch that match last week?” / “Yeah we watched it the other night.” / “There’s this new manga that just came out I think you’d be into it Nagi.” / “Oh alright, we’ll definitely check it out.”

boyfriend!nagi who drops the love bomb very early on because if he had feelings for you strong enough to even notice or care about, he’s confident it has to be love. He has different variations of “I love you”, the most commonly used ones are groggy and drawn out, “love youuuu~” or “Mhmm, love.” It’s a pet name and a confession all in one, verbal shortcuts make life easier (nagi logic 101). When he really wants you to hear it, he’ll say “I love you” in full but repeatedly. Either while he’s burying his face in the crook of your neck or following you around the house begging you to forgive him for sleeping all day instead of the chores you asked him to do.

boyfriend!nagi who wants to put more and more effort into himself and his lifestyle now that he has you. He wants to be the best he can be, give you everything you want and need, show his love for you in a million different ways. It’s so bad that he sometimes cries to himself thinking about all the ways he might mess up the relationship, he doesn’t know what he would do if you left him, he’d just feel so empty. :((

boyfriend!nagi who clings to you at every moment that he can, his heart stings at the feeling you leaving his grasp even if it’s just for a moment.

boyfriend!nagi who is absolutely whipped and unafraid to admit it. He’s so open and honest about his feelings with you because it’s a pain to not be able to tell you things. Is constantly reminding you how much he thinks about you and yearns for you. So much love with this boy <3

[requinoesis]

I love Jojo so much. She looks so fucking cool! I'd love to see more of her and Rocky. Maybe they get matching mom+son tattoos ;o;

I imagine that Jojo is a truly excellent mother, always being present at every stage of her children's lives! Although she can be a little passive aggressive in her comments sometimes hehe

Despite Roberto's curious "post-mature" birth, his mother took very good care of him, in her own way hehe

I idealize that Jojo would be the kind of mother that her children would feel safe asking questions about any topic. She would welcome them with good advice, support and understanding. I tried to portray this with this little interaction between Roberto and his mother.

Even in the face of "teenage rebellion", Jojo would be understanding and patient, as she would identify with these behaviors, as she also went through it.

Hope you like it! What do you think when I make these types of illustrations of my characters? I don't know exactly why, but I'm very happy with these characters. 🦈✨

If you want to see a little more about Roberto's family, you can see it here!

[saquesha13]

!!Tattoo artist Eddie!!

Steve never imagined himself as a tattoo kind of guy. But back in ‘85 after the mall fire, he ended up getting a small matching tattoo with Robin. Just a simple little ice cream cone on his inner wrist - Robin’s idea really. Something about almost burning to death together in a fire really seemed fitting for matching permeant ink on their skin.

It opened Steve’s eyes, changed his perspective, widened his horizons if you will on the whole idea of a tattoo.

Even just a dumb ass ice cream cone that bystanders see on his wrist, that they probably assume means jack shit but in reality it means the whole world to Steve - is pretty fucking cool.

So, Steve hears about this really talented tattoo artist in Chicago and knew he wanted this guy to do his next piece.

The shop is smaller than Steve expected, smack dead in the center of the city and Steve arrived 30 minuets early to his appointment because he was pretty damn nervous.

This tattoo is not as… innocent as his matching ice cream cone with Robbie’s. It isn’t as meaningful either…

Well, okay, it still has meaning, but only to Steve. He isn’t the kind of guy to get a tattoo just because. Tattoos are expensive first of all, and he doesn’t want his entire body covered in ink. That just isn’t his style. But a peek of a tattoo here and there? Yeah, that’s not bad, that what El would call bitchin’.

“Steve? Eddie is ready for you.” The petite blonde at the front desk smiled, her warm bubbly aurora feeling so oddly displaced in a shop like this, so far from what Steve was expecting.

“Ah, okay, thanks uh…”

“Chrissy.” She brushed her bangs out of her eyes before pushing back the black beaded curtain leading to the back room.

“Thank you, Chrissy.” Steve hoped this girl couldn’t see just now nervous he was as he ducked between the beads. He was just starting to let his eyes roam around the gothic decor of the room when the hottest fucking man Steve has ever seen walks in, taking thick chunky rings off his pale fingers and putting them in the pocket of his skin tight black jeans.

Once his rings are safely put away, he tugs the thick dark curls off of his shoulders and tied it up on his head in a knot, some strands poke out framing his face.

“Steve, right?” The sexy man speaks, apparently. His deep voice sounded like honey and pure bliss to Steve’s hears. A smile stretches across his lips making the dimples - of fucking course he has dimples - poke out on his cheeks. “I’m Eddie.”

Steve apparently broke at the sight of this man, because seriously who the hell does this guy think he is coming in looking like THAT?! His voice cracked when he tried to speak making his cheeks turn rosey shade of pink and he had to clear his throat before properly speaking.

“U-Uh, yeah, me is Steve. I-I mean, I am Steve.” He would smack his own forehead with his hand if Eddie wasn’t busy holding it, giving him a nice firm handshake. Steve’s face was burning.

Scratch smacking face, Steve wishes he could just bash his head in on the brick decorative wall in the corner. Put him out of his misery. He’s doing a mighty fine job at humiliating himself already.

“This your first time?” Eddie smirked, his voice somehow dropping lower than it was before.

“Huh?” Steve blinked, clearly confused, no lights on in his brain as his eyes darted between Eddie’s huge brown eyes to the tattoo peaking out under the v-neck of his black long sleeve shirt. God he wished he could see what that tattoo actually was, maybe lick it.

“Your first time getting a tattoo.” Eddie clarified, the smirk never leaving his face as he finally let go of Steve’s sweaty palm.

“Oh, no actually. I’ve had - “ Steve cleared his throat again, trying his dammed hardest to chill the fuck down. “Had got another tattoo before this one.”

“So, you’re not a virgin then?” Eddie winked as he slid on his rubber gloves, covering up the black inked tattoos on his broad hands that Steve suddenly wished he looked at before they were gone from his sight. Then he realized what Eddie just said and his head snapped up to the playful look on Eddie’s face.

Shit. Is Eddie actually flirting with him? Is this how Eddie speaks to all of his clients? Or has Steve finally lost his marbles?

“Nope, defiantly not a virgin.” Steve watched Eddie’s movements closely as he finalized setting up his supplies, grabbing the stencil of Steve’s tattoo. “Not a virgin with tattoos either.”

Eddie’s eyes snapped up to meet his own, something gleaming in his dark eyes that makes Steve’s levi’s suddenly feel a little too tight. The grin on Eddie’s face is down right sinful. “Well, Steve, as long as the sketch looks good to you and you are still good with the placement, we can get started.”

Steve leans over and looks down at Eddie’s sketch of what he had requested sitting in Eddie’s gloved hands. Just looking at the two words, at the way Eddie wrote the font knowing it was his work that will be forever on Steve’s body has Steve’s blush refusing to go away.

“Uh, cool. Okay. Yeah it looks good, really good.” Steve had to lean over Eddie’s shoulder to fully see the entire page, not that it was really necessary.

“Lay down on the bed, on your stomach.” Eddie gestured with his chin to the left, where the tattooing bed was. “Make sure you get those jeans off first,” Eddie huffed out a laugh as Steve was about to settle down on his belly, his face turning beat red in embarrassment feeling idiotic.

“You do want your ass tattooed still, right?” Eddie asked, his voice smug at the flustered look on Steve’s face.

“Well, yeah. Obviously. That is why I am here.” Steve scoffed, wondering why the hell he is blushing like a teenage girl in this sexy ass man’s presence. Usually Steve is the one making people blush, not the other way around.

“I don’t usually undress my clients… but I would for you.” Eddie nibbled on his bottom lip, making damn sure that Steve’s face stayed tomato red as Steve swore he saw Eddie look at him from head to toe.

He had to take a deep breath to get his damn body to cooperate downstairs before unbuttoning his jeans and tugging down his fly so he can scoot the denim and his grey briefs down over the curve of his ass leaving them just barley covering his junk in the front and staying on his legs.

He couldn’t bring himself to say anything as he climbed on the bed on his stomach, not trusting his voice whatsoever as his eyes said more than enough, keeping them planted on Eddie’s.

“This good?” He rested his chin on his hands, his entire bare ass out in the open, wondering why the hell Jonathan Byers failed to mention how damn hot his favorite tattoo artist was.

Eddie for once seemed a little lost for words. He doesn’t stay in the room when his clients undress, it’s unprofessional. He never ever offers to take their clothes off for them either. But for some reason his feet stopped working the second Steve’s fingers went to unbutton his jeans.

“Absolutely perfect, pretty boy.” Eddie damn near purred, wondering how he lucked out, to be the one to tattoo this angels ass. Getting fucking payed to touch his ass. To tattoo the words Bite Me on his juicy round cheeks.

It isn’t Eddie’s first rodeo tattooing someone’s butt cheeks. He’s done almost every body part at this point in his tattooing career. But fuck, no client has ever affected him, not like this.

“Skins sensitive here.” Eddie licked his lips as he stepped close to the bed, wishing he wasn’t wearing gloves so he could really feel Steve as he ran his fingers over the exposed skin before putting the shaving cream along his ass, shaving the light colored peach fuzz right off his literal peach. “Need numbing cream, sweetheart?”

“No. Don’t need numbing cream. Wanna feel it.” Steve hummed, looking over his shoulder at Eddie. Steve’s red face has faded to pink, finally calming down a bit trying to sit still so he isn’t wiggling his ass in Eddie’s face - not that he thinks Eddie would really mind too much if he did.

Eddie muttered something under his breath, his hands stilling over his ass from where he was wiping the shaving cream away with surprisingly soft hands.

It’s funny, Steve came in set on only getting one tattoo. But as he laid here on the bed, the tattoo gun buzzing as the needles push against his ass, all he can think about is coming back, getting more ink on his body, all over his tan skin as an excuse to come back and see Eddie.

To come back and get Eddie’s hands on him.

But when his appointment was over - much sooner than Steve would have liked - turns out he didn’t need to come back here.

Because Eddie invited him to go home with him.

[moonstruckme]

Would you pls write a tattoo artist Sirius x fem reader where it’s her first time getting a tattoo and she’s really nervous but he’s really hot idk sorry totally fine if not !!💗

Thanks for requesting <3

cw: mention of needle

modern au

tattoo artist!Sirius x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

A bell rings as you enter the shop, and you cringe internally. It seems as though now you’re committed to being here. 

“Hi,” a blonde woman behind a desk greets you with a polite smile. “Do you have an appointment?” 

“Oh.” You hesitate, your footsteps stalling like you might back right out the door. “Um, no.” 

“That’s alright.” She waves you forward. “We have space for walk-ins today. I’ve got an appointment coming in a few, but go ahead and fill this out,” she slides a sheet of paper in front of you, “and Sirius will be out for you in a minute.” 

You take the pen she offers you with a terse smile, and even your name is hardly legible with the trembling in your fingers. Sirius, you think as you tick boxes while hardly looking at them. That’s a boy’s name. Isn’t it? You’re not sure how you feel about a boy doing your tattoo. You’d always pictured a cool, tatted-up girl with a throaty voice and a calming demeanor to set your nerves at ease. You’re tempted to ask this woman if you can just book an appointment with her for later, but when you look up she’s slipped behind the curtain to the back room. 

A few moments later, a different head pops out instead. 

“Hello,” this new man says, grinning whilst your stomach bottoms out. Fair skin, dark hair tied loosely behind his head, and tattoos from his neck going down as far as you can see before they disappear under the waist of his pants. His grin is sharp and welcoming at once, spreading over his fine features like it’s been well practiced. 

“Hi,” you manage. 

“You about done with that?” 

It takes him dropping his gaze to the paper under your hand before you realize what he’s talking about. 

“Oh.” You give a weak laugh, pushing it toward him. “Yeah.” 

“Beautiful.” He picks it up, looking it over briefly. “Ready to head back?”

You can feel your heartbeat in your mouth. “Mhm.” 

He holds the curtain open for you. You turn yourself a bit sideways to avoid brushing either him or the curtain as you go through, and he makes an amused face. 

“I’m Sirius,” he says, leading you towards the chairs in the back of the room. There’s music playing from a speaker in the corner, something quick and bass-heavy that’s probably meant to pump up more seasoned customers but makes your skin feel twitchy. Sirius gives you an expectant look. You blink in response. “And you are?”

“Oh, sorry.” You tell him your name. The syllables feel new and awkward on your tongue. 

Sirius tosses you another winsome smile. “No worries,” he reassures you, and you wonder if he gets this reaction a lot. If everyone feels this way around him, like having his full attention directed at you is a little intoxicating and a lot overwhelming. “Is this your first tattoo?” 

“Yeah.” You sit in the chair he gestures to. “How’d you know?” 

He chuckles, the sound sharp and bright. “You’re a tad jumpy, love.” You feel heat rush to your face, but then Sirius gives your calf a little pat and it all goes there instead. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you. You usually have problems with needles?” 

“Not really.” You squirm a little, making sure your skirt isn’t riding up your thighs. “I just don’t have any idea how badly it’ll hurt.” 

“Oh, it’s not too bad usually. Do you have an idea of what you want?” 

“Um, yeah.” You get out your phone, showing him the picture you’d found. “Could you maybe do this, like, by my hip?” 

Sirius leans closer to see. “As little as that one?” You nod, and he grins. “Yeah, that’ll be easy! I can do that in five minutes, gorgeous, don’t you worry.” 

“Really?” you ask, hope inflating in your chest. 

“Yeah, let me just…” He turns around to a small desk, drawing a careful sketch before pulling on a pair of disposable gloves. “Alright, where do you want it?”

You pull down the waistband of your skirt, pointing to the bit of skin where your hip turns into your stomach. You hold your breath as he presses the paper to your skin. When he peels it back up, the design stays. 

“Like that?” 

Your reply comes out on an exhale, soft and a bit dizzy. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s perfect.” 

“Brilliant.” Sirius looks down at his work, then back up at you. You can’t decide which makes your stomach hurt worse. “Then I think we’re ready to get started. You alright?” 

You ignore the tingly feeling in your fingertips and force yourself to answer before you can think too hard. “Yeah.” 

Sirius looks like he can tell you’re faking it, but he blazes forward anyway, giving you a reassuring smile. “Great, just lie back for me. Like that, yeah. Cool if I roll the top of your skirt down so it doesn’t get in our way?”

You nod. He’s careful and professional as he takes the waistband of your skirt, folding it over itself until it sits beneath your hips, but still a gloved knuckle brushes up against the skin of your lower abdomen. Your heart hiccups.

“Okay, love, here’s what we’re going to do.” You look up to find Sirius’ eyes already waiting for yours. They’re lighter than you’d thought from a distance, a grayish blue like the ocean during a storm. His one hand is resting on the temporary tattoo, and you wonder if he can feel your heartbeat bumping through your skin. You certainly can. “I’m going to touch the machine to you for just a second so you know how it feels, and then I’ll take it off. Sound good?” 

You nod again, bracing yourself. “Okay.” 

“Alright.” 

The machine buzzes to life, and it’s an effort not to flinch. You press your lips together in case you make a sound. Sirius’ brow pinches concentratedly as he touches the needle to the stencil he’s made on your skin. It’s over before you can process it. 

“How was that?” he asks you.

You look up at him in surprise. “Fine,” you say honestly. It stung, but not nearly as bad as you’d expected, and only for as long as he was touching the needle to you. 

“Beautiful.” Sirius seems as relieved as you are, his grin flashing canines. “In that case, you’re golden. Just sit pretty for me, yeah?”

You feel like he has to be intentionally flustering you now, but you don’t have time to dwell upon it before he sets back to work. The sting really is negligible, especially with Sirius’ fingers pressing into your skin to steady his touch and his elbow resting lightly against your thigh. You feel hot in all sorts of places. 

Those gray-blue eyes flicker up to check on you when he pauses every now and then. “You’re amazing,” he praises. “Doing so well, love.” 

It doesn’t help.

[itsmrshamilton]

Just Tattoo Of Us | LH44

Summary: Y/n & Lewis give a tattoo tour for GQ

a/n: I've rewritten this like 10 times

"Hey GQ, I'm Lewis Hamilton-"

"And I'm Y/n L/n-Hamilton. And we're here to give tattoo tours!" You looked over at Lewis on your left to smile at him.

"Ladies first." He murmured to you. You grinned and turned to the camera. Sweeping your braids over your shoulders, you sat up straighter on your stool.

"Where do I start? I think I've got well over 20 tattoos. I once got 5 in one month which were all impulsive decisions but I've never regretted a tattoo!" You exclaimed happily.

Lewis raised an eyebrow at you and smirked slowly. "Even the one on your l-" Your hand was quick to slap across his mouth

"Lewis, hush up. Hush up right now!" You threatened him as he giggled mischievously. He placed a hand over yours then proceeded to lick your palm in retaliation. "Ew!" You squeeled.

When he finally released your hand, you gathered yourself.

"Okay, so let's start with my oldest." The camera zoomed in on your left arm. "This is my hall of fame. Or my arm of fame. All the cool things I did in my twenties and thirties are memorialised here. I have a plane for the time I went skydiving, mountains for my longest hike, vines for the time I fell into vicious poison ivy - it was not a fun month following that. I have a trident for the time I went scuba diving and nearly drowned - fun times. Next to that I have the cutest fish I ever saw in my life. They came up to me and I felt like a proper Disney princess-"

"She is a princess." Lewis interrupted smiling warmly at the camera. The screen captured your goofy smile as you became flustered. 10 years with your husband and not a day went by without him flirting with you.

"Simp! Get on with the video!" Yelled Miles from behind the camera set up. You laughed at his antics as Lewis turned to him with mock annoyance and glared at him.

"Mind your business, Miles!" He returned.

The director motioned for you two to carry on with the video.

"Moving on. I have more bits and bobs on this arm, but we don't have much time." You said brushing your hand up and down the length of your arm. The camera followed your movements.

"I really love your sleeve. Every time I look at it, I'm reminded of all that you've accomplished, and it makes me happy to know that I was included in some of the stories." Your husband said to you. You felt your heart melt in your chest and drop down into your stomach to transform into a million butterflies. The camera focused on his love sick smile.

"Thank you, love. Okay, your turn. You already did an old video with GQ once, yeah?" You asked him.

"Yeah, in 2018."

"Okay, then start with all the tats you've got since then. Don't forget my favourite!" You waggled your eyebrows at him.

"Oi," he laughed, "keep this pg." You laughed and raised your arms in mock surrender.

"Yeah! There are kids watching!" Miles yelled again.

The camera captured a slow-mo of Lewis' bare arms and legs. His blue sleeveless top and white shorts allowed for you (and the viewers) to freely ogle his limbs. His muscles rippled and flexed as he moved to get comfortable on his stool.

"By the time I was 40, I had most of my upper half covered in tattoos," he laughed softly. "but I had left my left arm free for a super special sleeve." The camera captured his left arm, which was quite different from his right as it had many colourful tattoos as well as 5 beaded bracelets on his wrist.

"You've all seen the clock tattoo at the top, me and my dad. Under that, you've got my boy Roscoe, who unfortunately is no longer with us. I got this tatted when he began to get more sick and the vet warned us he would not last it til the end of the year." Lewis' voice cracked a little as he spoke. The camera showed the image of the tattoo - roscoe's sweet face, his nose imprints and his pawprints. "I wanted him to see it before he left."

Your eyes were glossy as you watched your husband speak. The loss of his best friend shook your little family, and his presence was sorely missed every day. Coco's passing had affected Lewis badly but Roscoe's really knocked him down and there was a time when you were worried that he might not emotionally recover.

"Under that, we've got a sapphire stone and a double rainbow, both in colour, for our first daughter. I got these the day she was born, after making sure Y/n was okay and settled at home of course. Hands down in my top 3. I didnt even feel a thing, I was so estatic." You both laughed at that.

"He actually told me he was popping out to run errands then two hours later came back with fresh tattoos! I was so shocked!" You said to the cameras grinning.

"You were more prepared for the next two tattoos though." His brown eyes crinkled as he grinned at you, reaching for your hand to hold.

"Oh, yeah. Definitely. Our daughters love the tattoos dedicated to them. They call them their Daddy's Special Stickers." You smiled fondly at every memory that contained your three little girls tracing and colouring in their father's tattoos. They often begged Lewis to draw a replica of their birthstone and name representation onto their arms so everyone could match. You had the initials of their first names as well as flowers below your c-section scar. The tattoo wasn't perfect due to the stretching and contracting of your skin around the area but it was still a beautiful tattoo.

"I've got an emerald and an arrow for my second daughter, as well as a pearl and a maple leaf for my third. It seems random from the outside, but i promise it makes sense." He laughed softly. "The funny thing is that all my girls have personalities that match their tattoos which makes me feel even happier about my decision to get them!"

"Yeah, Lewis has a big head because of this. So many family members were worried about the decision to get a tattoo on the DAY of your child's birth, but once our girls started talking and walking, everyone shut up. It was like he predicted it." You chimed in.

"The next tat after that is a garnet stone with a lion. That's for my little boy. He was born prematurely so I wasn't yet ready to get the tat and I wasn't sure if it was the right one but after he survived a week in the NICU, I knew I had picked the perfect pieces once again." He sighed happily as he reminisced on how it felt to hold his tiny baby boy for the first time at the hospital.

Your eyes were glossy once more but you couldn't help but quip, "See how his head grew a centimeter larger there?" Your voice trembled slightly and you tried to laugh without accidentally sobbing. Lewis' own glossy eyes met yours and he removed your hand from his grasp to pull you into a side hug, kissing the side of your head. Miles ran on-screen to give you both one big group hug and you all sniffled and laughed together.

The birth of your youngest child was traumatic and nerve-wrecking (literally). You were so grateful that you had your loving family there for support. Miles may have been the most annoying out of all of Lewis' friends but he was also the most loving. He had become your brother and best friend too.

"Okay, get out of here. You stink." You joked as you pushed him away and dabbed at your eyes.

Lewis and Miles laughed. Miles went back to stand off camera. "I love you too, Y/N"

"Alright. Can we have a round of rapid fire questions? You will ask your partner a question based on your tattoos and they will point out an answer. First example, Lewis, what is your favourite tattoo on Y/n?"

Lewis turned to you, and this time, his eyes shone with mischief. You grinned naughtily at him, knowing what he was thinking. On your honeymoon, you had gone to a tattoo parlor for new tattoos. Lewis had somehow managed to convince the artist to let him have a go at tracing your tattoo. The initial placement you had thought of was on your shoulder, but Lewis jokingly suggested he do it himself at the top of your inner thigh. Deliriously high on your love for this man, you agreed. And it was done. Lewis sat beside your table as you lay on your side with your left leg propped up and tattooed the word "mine" to the top of your right thigh, centimeters from your thong. You were wet the whole time.

"Um, I think she knows the answer to this one." You both giggled like teenagers. "My second favourite, is this one." He lifted your conjoined hands and kissed your ring finger which was adorned with heavy diamonds.

Keeping eye contact with him, you slid off your rings to reveal his initials tattooed to your ring finger. He smirked sexily as the camera zoomed in to capture the details. L.C.D.H carved in his handwriting in black ink. You squeezed your legs together in response to his look. It was becoming difficult to remember where you were. The internet would definitely have a field day with this video.

"Y/n, your favourite tattoo on Lewis?" The director asked.

"Besides the ones that represent our kids? Hm, this one right here." You traced the tattoo of a lipstick stained kiss on the inside of his left wrist. It was fairly new, about 2 months old. It was in the shade of your favourite lip combo.

"I like this one too." He murmured. "My turn again. If you could only keep one of your tattoos, which would it be?"

You immediately pointed to your collarbones. Thanks to your corset top, the camera was able to pick up the tats. "This is what I call the pathway to heaven. It's the tiny paw prints of my childhood pets as well as all the senior fosters that passed in my care." The image on screen was of black paw prints of cats and dogs that led to your heart, starting from your collarbone. You got your first paw print at 17 as your first tattoo and when you decided to foster animals you discovered that senior animals were more likely to spend their last years at shelters and you couldn't have that. 15 foster babies later, one paw for each sweetheart, and you had your pathway to heaven. The heartache of losing a pet was difficult but seeing their joyful faces made the pain easier. You hoped you weren't done adding to the collection.

Lewis had heard the stories about this design and the pets many many times, but he felt his heart grow bigger. Your love was endless, and that made you more beautiful in his eyes. He didn't know how he went half his life without knowing you. You were his everything, and you knew him like nobody else did. Every second spent with you was equivalent to a year in any spiritual eternal paradise to him.

"What's your next tattoo going to be, Lewis?" The director asked him. Lewis nearly didn't hear him as he was still daydreaming about you.

"Mine? Uh-"

"Maybe Y/n's whole face on your face." Miles suggested then cackled at himself. You snorted.

"Yeah, I've already made being her husband my whole personality. Might as well commit." He joined in on the joke, grinning at the camera.

"Oh my gosh, I would love that." You said. "Let's book the appointment now!"

Everyone in the studio laughed with your trio.

The scene cut to the two of you.

"Thank you GQ for having us. This was the Hamiltons' tattoo tour."

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

a/n: I really like this version of Y/N & Lewis. I think I might carry on with their family? Should I?

Dont forget the interact before you leave! Thanks for reading.

[reysdriver]

Hey darlin'! I just saw your one-shots and i REALLY love them!! I need morr about Eddie with Hopper!Reader <33 Please!! A fluff or a smut where the Reader have to deal with her father. Hope you can answer. Have a nice day!! ✨️

-🩷

You and Eddie try to have a chill night in, but it's difficult when you have the world's most paranoid chief of police as a father — eddie x fem!hopper!reader fluff

warnings: none

words: 1.2k

a/n: thanks for submitting a request! I'm sorry it took so long, I've been so busy lately, and I'm sorry I couldn't figure out how to end it lmao but I really hope you like this fic!!

Even though your dad knew about you and Eddie dating, he was definitely not as okay with it as you would have hoped, but honestly more than you had expected. 

He had met Eddie a few times since he found out you were in romantic cahoots with the familiar criminal, and despite your fears, they had gotten along quite well despite their history and their differences. But no matter how many things they actually had in common, no father would fully trust Eddie Munson to be alone with his little girl. 

“Door open three inches!” Your dad called from the couch. “You know the rules!”

You rolled your eyes, standing up from the bed to open the door to Hopper’s liking. 

The door was open three inches, and you swore that it was the draft causing the door to move slightly, but you knew your dad would never believe you. 

“Seriously, Dad?” You asked him. 

“Rules are rules.” He confirmed. “If you don’t like it, then the boyfriend can go.”

You let out a heavy, dramatic sigh before returning to your boyfriend, who was currently sketching out a Dungeons and Dragons character based on you for his new campaign. 

Eddie looked up from his paper when you sat back down next to him. “You can do a lot with three inches, you know?”

You put a finger over his mouth—which he playfully tried to bite—and you shushed him while holding back a laugh at his incredibly stupid, albeit funny, joke. 

“He’s gonna hear you, and he’s gonna drag you out of here. Keep drawing.”

He put the finishing touches on his design, then let out a sound of satisfaction over it before turning the notebook so you could see it better. 

“I think I did pretty good.” Your boyfriend proclaimed. “She’s almost as pretty as you.”

Oh, how you lucked out with this mysterious dork. You thanked him by pressing a quick kiss on his cheek before your dad became suspicious of you two once again. 

“You think I should get it as some ink?” Eddie asked you. 

“Like, you want to get it tattooed?”

Eddie nodded, eyes going back and forth between you and the cartoon version of you that he just made. 

“Absolutely not.” You replied. 

“What? Why not? Do you not love me enough to let me tattoo you on me?”

He was ridiculous, staring at you with big, fake puppy dog eyes and a pleading lip. 

“Of course I love you, but as your girlfriend, I also need to stop you from doing stupid things.”

“What if I keep your tattoo separate from the creepy skulls and spiders?”

Well, that was an offer you almost couldn’t refuse. Even though it was tempting, you would never let him know that he can get to you like that, so you played it cool.

“Ask me again in a year.”

His face erupted into a devilish smile and he held his hands to his chest like a cartoon character in love. 

“I’m getting a tramp stamp of my girlfriend in a year!”

Before you could protest his proclamation, he pulled you into his arms in what you hoped was just a teasing gesture rather than a genuine expression of excitement for something you were certainly not going to let happen. 

Just a second later, your dad cleared his throat very pointedly, which practically frightened you out of your boyfriend’s arms. 

“El wants to watch a movie.” He announced. “Come watch with us.”

You sat up and shook your head lightly. “Um, no thanks, Dad. We’ll pass on that.”

Your dad raised an eyebrow and looked at Eddie’s arm around your waist. “You have something better to do?”

It was at that point that you knew him telling you about your sister and the movie was an order, not an invitation. You bit the inside of your cheek and luckily, Eddie spoke up before you could say something snarky. 

“A movie sounds great, chief. Count us in.”

“Good.” Hopper said curtly before turning around to the living room. 

Eddie stood up and started teasingly pulling you off the bed. You laid down and let out an annoyed groan, resisting his attempts to move you. 

“C’mon, babe, movie time.” Eddie encouraged. 

“It’s just gonna be The Wild Bunch. That’s one of their favourite movies and I know El’s been wanting to see it again lately.” You mumbled. “I’d much rather stay here with you.”

“Well, your dad might never let me back in your house if he thinks I’m trying anything with his daughter in the other room, so we have to. Plus, I like The Wild Bunch too.”

Your face formed an exaggerated frown as you finally got up off the bed. 

Eddie smiled and escorted you to the living room. And although you had just started to build up excitement within you for this movie night, it already got worse. 

El was in her favourite recliner—the VHS case for The Wild Bunch was on her lap, you called it—but your dad had plopped himself down in the exact middle of the couch. Not only did you have to watch a movie with your family instead of chilling with your boyfriend, but you couldn’t even sit next to him because your dad hates the idea of you having fun. 

Before you knew it, you were in a full on stare-down with the Hawkins chief of police. 

“Take a seat.” He said passive aggressively. 

“I want to sit next to Eddie, Dad. Could you move over?”

He shook his head. “I’m not falling for any of your tricks. I was a teenager once.”

“Yeah, like a thousand years ago.” You mumbled. 

The comment was quiet but your dad still heard it. 

“Careful, any attitude and I’ll assume it came from the moron and he won’t be allowed back in the house.”

You looked over at Eddie with a defeated expression on your face. He looked back at you, sympathetic and willing to comply—the latter was a complete switch from his normal mood.

Your boyfriend understood completely why your dad was worried about you and Eddie dating, but that didn’t mean he was happy about it. Of course, Eddie was willing to do whatever he could to seem like the boyfriend every parent would want for their daughter—he really was, some people just couldn’t look past the exterior shell to see it—so he held his tongue and went along with anything. 

The two of you sat down on opposite sides of the couch, separated by your relentless father. 

“Alright, El, play the movie.” Hopper said. 

He then leaned back and kept his eyes on the television in front of you all. 

Eddie soon caught your gaze from across the couch, and he stretched his arm behind his head, oh so conveniently placing it a few inches from your shoulder.

You grinned at him, keeping it subtle, and took his hand in yours. 

The two of you watched the rest of the film like that, holding hands in that slightly uncomfortable way, and the night wasn’t as insufferable as it seemed like it was going to be. All thanks to Eddie, of course.

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer Park Steve AU

part 1

“Are you lost?” Munson frowns, propping his shoulder against the door frame and crossing his arms over his chest. His rings glint against his jacket sleeve; he’s got new tattoos on his fingers.

Steve’s head fills with static fuzz for a second, and he stares like a mouth-breathing idiot before helpfully answering: “Um.”

“…Right. Well, this has been weird as shit, man, but, uh— pharmacy’s closed until my uncle leaves at sundown, so…” He lifts his hand to make a shooing motion, then pauses, assessing Steve with narrowed eyes. “What are you all dressed up like a good little school boy for, anyway? Didn’t you graduate last year?”

Oh, okay. Wow. (Like, yeah, he does kinda look like some goody two-shoes freshman with Robin’s forgotten backpack hiked up way too high under his armpits, but also fuck you, dude.) Steve squares his shoulders, plasters a falsely polite smile on his face and cocks his head to the side, all innocent, like he doesn’t know, like he’s just asking, man. “Sure did. Weren’t you supposed to do that, too?”

Munson glares at him like he’s imagining doing to him what Misty did to the rat. “I really don’t want to fight this early in the morning, man.”

“I’d love to see you try,” Steve snorts. “What, Munson? You gonna beat my ass? Think you can take me? Go ahead.”

He doesn’t know why he’s egging on a fight, but he’s suddenly itching for one. Feels the urge bubbling up beneath the surface. Hot under the collar. Probably this is the part where Tommy would hold him back and tell him it isn’t worth it, man, come on, but Tommy’s not around anymore.

A lot of people aren’t around anymore.

Nobody fights for fallen kings.

So Steve bows up with a sneer and a huff, and Munson does the same, and that’s… concerning. It gets a hell of a lot more concerning when he flashes a menacing grin and claps a hand to Steve’s shoulder; gets right up in his face, nose to nose, breath sharp with spearmint to cover the scent of weed.

From Wayne’s point of view they might almost look like friends.

Steve barely hears the thwck slice past his bad ear before he feels the cold press of a blade against his throat. Pocket knife, unpocketed. Munson’s smile widens, and Steve swallows hard, feels his pulse jump against the blade, the blood rushing to his cheeks. It shouldn’t be hot. (And it isn’t, because it shouldn’t be.)

“You want to try that again?”

Munson’s voice is deadly soft, a raspy whisper that makes Steve’s hair stand on end. His eyes are huge and dark. Intense. Kind of endless.

Kind of like Nancy’s when she’s staring down a loaded gun.

Steve blinks and licks the sweat off his upper lip, fingers trembling against frayed denim where he’s got his hands raised in surrender. “We’re c-cool, man. We’re cool. My mistake.”

Munson backs off with a pleased look on his face, snaps the knife shut and tucks it back into his pocket. Soft squeak of worn leather; casual shrug. “Cool. Glad we understand each other.”

Then he scruffs Steve under the chin — patronizing and quick, this humiliating little bullshit maneuver like ‘chin up, Steve-o’ before he hops down the steps and swings himself up into his van. The tires screech in the loose gravel, and Steve just stands there and stares. Gobsmacked. Pissed off.

A little stiff in his jeans.

When he looks down there’s a black cat brushing itself against his sneakers. “Misty?” he asks.

“M’row,” says the cat.

There’s a dead bird at her feet.

—

part 3

[somanyratsinthewalls]

Congratulations on 700 followers Mo 😖💗....I really LOVE reading your fanfics☺️

I was kindly requesting Navy hummingbird and sloth please

Eeeek thank you so much for reading! I hope you like this one! (Honestly? I kind of wrote this with the thought of it being Burning Hearts, my Law series, adjacent.) Needy Law is so cuuuuute!

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader

Prompt/Trope: Sex Pollen/Aphrodisiac x Somnophilia 

WC: 1900

Warnings: oral, sex pollen affects, somnophilia without discussion but let’s assume they have (don’t worry we’re cool!) unprotected sex, p in v sex, prone bone, creampies and breeding baby!

Happy Anniversary, Baby (18+)

— — 

Law was a composed man. Over time, you had managed to worm your way through his hardened exterior to reach his nerdy, compassionate, caring center. Even as he opened up to you, he was still methodical about most things, including sex. He had the motions to make you orgasm down to a science at this point, making sure you were pleased far more than worrying about his own release. He always pulled out. He was the doctor who prescribed your birth control for god’s sake but he insisted on being careful anyway. Even if you begged him to finish inside, he was stubborn. You would never complain about your relationship with Law, he was just the way you liked him. 

Law was up early one morning going over paperwork at his desk. He couldn’t sleep any longer and didn’t want to wake you from your peaceful slumber by tossing and turning, so he decided to get some work done. 

After an hour or so of being engrossed in his work, Law glances at the calendar hanging on his office wall. Todays date had little pink hearts drawn around it in gel pen, by your hand of course. 

“Oh shit.” 

Law had forgotten about your anniversary. 

He had to think of something fast, preferably before you woke up. You were always telling him he worked too much so he couldn’t imagine the ass-chewing he would receive if you found out he forgot your anniversary. 

“Flowers…” He mumbles as he rises from his desk and leaves his office. He headed down the hall to the large closet you had converted into a makeshift greenhouse for your beloved hydroponic garden. 

He rips open the metal door and is hit in the face with moist air and the refreshing smell of greenery. The walls and center of the room were completely covered in carefully curated small plants, vegetables, flowers, and ferns. Law steps in and closes the door behind him. 

“She likes yellow…” Law mutters to himself as he finds himself overwhelmed by all the flowers around him. He was a doctor, not a botanist, he had no idea what any of these plants were so he just decided to choose something in your favorite color. 

He walked up to a large bush on the left side of the room that had unique-looking yellow flowers blossoming all over it. He thought this would be as good as any so he reached out his hand to pluck at the stem of one of the blooms. 

Just as he wrapped his tattooed fingers around the plant, the flower released a puff of yellow pollen right in his face. Law jerks backwards. The particles fly up into his sinuses and causes an uncomfortable tickle. 

“Ah- ACHOO!” Law sneezes violently which triggers the rest of the flowers on the bush to release their own supply of pollen into the air, clouding his vision and irritating his nose further. 

Law covers his face and rubs his eyes, trying to brush any remaining flower pollen off of him. 

“Must be some kind of natural defense mechanism… fuck that.” Law gripes as he wipes the last remnants of the pollen from his tired face. 

Law catches his breath and chooses to abandon this particular, aggravating plant. He spies a rosebush in the corner of the room. He knows what those are for sure, and as long as he doesn’t prick himself on the thorns, it should be less of a challenge to harvest them. 

Law walks over to the rosebush and begins snipping off the beautiful yellow blossoms, keeping the stems just long enough to put in a vase. Once he had around a dozen roses, he left the greenhouse room to find suitable container for the flowers in the kitchen. 

Rooting around in the kitchen cabinets, Law struggles to find anything nice enough for an anniversary bouquet. 

He wipes sweat from his brow and realizes that he’s been having to do it every few moments… why was he so sweaty? Was the boiler on the fritz again? He made a mental note to check the furnace on the ship after he gave you your gift. Law ignores the heat creeping up through him and continues searching the cabinets. 

He is pushing coffee mugs aside just as he notices the warm feeling become even more intense. Sweat was beading at his temples. 

“Fuck…” Law grunts and abandons his quest briefly so he can pour himself a glass of water. He chugs the entire cup in a few gulps and slams it back onto the kitchen counter. His jeans felt tight now. He looks down. His dick was fully hard, straining against the thick fabric of his pants. 

“What the hell…” Law had no idea what was happening to him. He was normally so in control of his faculties, but he now found himself painfully erect for no reason at all. He felt more droplets of sweat trickle down from his scalp to his neck. He grips the countertop and hangs his head, breathing heavily. 

It had to be that plant. He had no other logical explanation for the ache in his crotch and the uneasiness he was feeling in his head. The water didn’t help. He needed your help. You knew everything about the plants in there and would know exactly what to do to make the effects stop. 

Great, Law thought. Not only did he blow off your anniversary, he might have severely injured himself in the process… once again he wins the “Shittiest Boyfriend in the Grand Line” award. You were going to kill him, and at this point Law was so uncomfortable that he would probably let you. He abandons the flowers strewn across the kitchen counter and heads to your shared bedroom, desperate to find a cure to his ailment but also apprehensive of your reaction to his idiocy. 

He pushes open the bedroom door and quietly slips in, so he wouldn’t startle you if you were still sleeping. Before he has a chance to even form the words he wanted to use to explain himself to you, he was stopped in his tracks by your sleeping form. 

You had tossed all the covers off your body since Law had left, and you were laying on your back snoozing peacefully. Arms stretched over your head, Law’s bright yellow t-shirt emblazoned with his Jolly Roger was the only article of clothing you had on. You looked so serene, lost in your dreams, little snores escaping your parted dry lips… but Law could only focus on one thing. His t-shirt had ridden up and your thighs were spread, perfectly exposing your naked sex to him. 

Law felt his entire heartbeat in his cock now. Your plump, outer pussy lips looked so delicious, so kissable, and all Law could think about now was burying his tongue in you as you slept. Without thinking, Law unzips his pants and steps out of them when they fall to the floor, hissing as his dick finally has more room to breathe. He was no longer in control of himself, he could almost smell you from across the bedroom. He needed to have you now. 

He shouldn’t! The last of his sanity was pulling at his brain, begging him to just wake you up and ask you how to diffuse the effects of the flower’s pollen… but your naked cunt before him was just too much to resist any longer. 

Still feeling hot, Law strips himself completely, hat included. His hands tremble with need and tension as he tries to delicately settle himself on the bed between your legs, not wanting to wake you up. He would have a small taste and then let you rest… just one little lick…

He couldn’t help it. He immediately latched his whole mouth around your sex and laves his tongue up from the bottom of your hole to the top of your clit. 

“Hnnnhhh…” You whimper and shift in your sleep. 

“Mmmm…” Law groans into your pussy as your sweet taste helps alleviate some of the pressure he was feeling in his body. He can’t help but hump his hard cock into the mattress below the two of you, no doubt leaking pre and staining the sheets. 

Law notices you begin to stir and squirm underneath his touch, so he gently places his hands on your thighs to keep you still while he lapped at your pussy as if he was desperately parched and your body was an oasis. Becoming increasingly aroused, more of your slick leaked out of your hole into Law’s mouth which he greedily slurped up. The familiar flavor of you made his eyes roll back. He needed more. 

Law pushes himself up and positions himself on his knees between your legs. He grabs his cock and strokes it a few times harshly before lining himself up with your weeping hole. 

“I’m sorry baby…” Law whispers as he pushes himself into you. 

“Oh…” You sigh and your eyelids start to flutter. 

Without giving you time to wake up, Law sets a punishing pace with his hips and hammers into your wet cunt. Your breasts bounce freely underneath Law’s t-shirt and you rub your eyes involuntarily. 

“L-Law?” You sleepily say as you gain consciousness and realize he’s on top of you and balls deep inside of you. You thought you were just having a sex dream but you were shocked to find your partner waking you up with his cock. 

“Needed you now… Had to take you… You looked so fucking good and I just couldn’t stop…” Law grunts out as he thrusts into you with everything he has. 

“Fuck… feels so good…” You whimper out, sleep still heavy in your mind. 

“Shit, I’m gonna-“ Law huffs out before you feel him press hard into you. You then get the unfamiliar feeling of him shooting a heavy load inside of your walls. 

“D-did you r-really just-“ You stutter. You feel his member still twitching and hard inside of you. 

“Fuck why won’t it go down?” Law grits his teeth. 

“W-what?” Before you had time to question him further, Law picks you up by your waist and man handles you onto your stomach, spreading your legs again to make room for him. He pulls your hips up and presses his dick inside you again, your tender hole seeping white liquid out and coating him. 

“Shit! Law!” You moan as you feel him hit your favorite spot from behind. He picks up a brutal pace as he fucks you. “S-slow down, babe!” You try to push a hand back on his abs to quell his fervor. “I’m gonna-“

“C-can’t… I can’t! Fuck!” Law huffs as he grips your hips impossibly tight, surely leaving marks. You had never seen this animalistic side of your boyfriend and you couldn’t help how much it turned you on. You felt yourself hurtling towards the edge of orgasm embarrassingly quickly for someone who had just woken up. 

“AH!” You yelp into the pillow below you as you cum, hard. 

“Yes baby, this pussy is so fucking good, squeezing me so tight…” 

You were a babbling mess as Law’s heavy thrusts send you into overstimulation. 

“Gotta fucking fill you again, want you to drip for days…”

You whimper in response. 

“Yeah you’re mine baby, all mine… gonna stuff you so fucking good… FUCK-“ Law almost shouts as you feel more hot liquid filling your insides, surely leaking out around his member. 

Law rides out his second orgasm with a few more deep thrusts before he collapses over you and nuzzles his face between your shoulder blades. 

Finally feeling relieved, Law pulls out of you tenderly before flopping on his back next to you on the bed, out of breath. You turn to your side and snuggle into him as he wraps his arms around you. 

“Happy Anniversary?” Law says tentatively.

“Happy Anniversary indeed. Was that my present?” You giggle. 

“I cut you some flowers, left them in the kitchen, though.” Law says as he strokes your hair. 

“Wait… what flowers?!” You raise your voice as your head shoots up off his chest. 

xx

Mo

[charcoallbaby]

the chase

smutty asf. 18+

wrote this last night while i was half asleep enjoy!

matt sturniolo was the biggest slut ever. if he wasn’t too busy with college work or being the hockey teams captain, a girl was definitely getting dicked down by him.

i was a sophomore, he was a junior so we never crossed paths until my best friend started to date one of his brothers nick. my best friend, sam was head over heelings for nick, it was annoying to be around but i was happy for him, he seemed to be really happy.

his brother matt sturniolo could never get his eyes off me when i was around him, it made me pissed off. i knew what his thoughts were, even if he was a cool guy, which he is. he’s nice and pretty and would never dare try to do something with me since sam and nick warned him that im off limits. but i think matt liked the chase, he liked the fact that he couldn’t have me. so all he did was eye fuck me across the room with a solo cup in his hand talking to some blonde who was practically begging for him. he could smile and girls would be throwing themselves at him.

i sighed before making my way over to sam and nick. “can we go?” “im getting tired,” i exhaled. “girllllll, come on!!!!” “the party is just getting started!” sam cheered. i rolled my eyes at him. nick touched my arm, “matt’s going home soon, he has a project to work on, i’m sure he’ll have no problem dropping you off.” “yeah-um sure, i’ll ask him.”

my eyes darted over to where matt was. no where to be found.

3 months later.

“it’s so fucking hot god!” i groaned. “don’t worry y/n, it’s because im here.” matt joked. i angrily rolled my eyes. “matt, what?” nick cringed. “it’s too hot in this car and i’m gonna die if we don’t get there soon.” i whined. “stop whining and be happy!” sam patted my head like a dog. “wait is there a pool or hot tub there?” chris asked nick. “hot tub chris, it’s a cabin in the middle of the woods!” “but we can just get the hot tub in while it’s cold.”

the second matt parked the car in the garage, i grabbed my bag, hopped out and ran towards the door inside. i needed to get into minimal clothing, i was wearing sweats for some reason.

“here she is!” “here she is!” sam sang out. a smile formed onto my face.

i wore a baby blue bikini set. it made my girls look amazing which rarely happens while having a heavy chest, bikini cup sizes always do me dirty.

i pulled myself up onto one of the kitchen island stools. “care to make me one?” i asked matt who was on the opposite side of the island cutting himself limes to put into his bottles of corona. “yeah sure,” he flashed me a small smile. he could be really sweet sometimes, it didn’t suit his slutty alter ego that he had. he had no shirt on. he looked really fucking good. small beads of sweat were around his neck, i wish i could lick them off. what. no. y/n stop. my eyes shifted down to his tattoos covering his right arm, it made him more attractive if that was even possible. i shook myself out of the heart-eyeing gaze i was in and turn my stool around to sam, chris and nick playing mario kart.

something cold touched my back making me jerk away from it and turn around. “here.” matt nodded his head. “thanks,” i took the bottle off him, our hands quickly touching. he had nice hands. matt made his way over to the boys in the open-planned living room joining them on the couch. “i’m just gonna go tanning!” i called out to the boys. “okay!”

i placed my headphones into my ears, pressing shuffle onto my playlist. the first song playing was “we are the people.” by empire of the sun.

i opened my eyes, something was blocking the sun. all the 4 boys standing in front of me. i ripped my headphones out of my ears. “excuse me?” i pull my sunglasses down from my head to cover my eyes. “we’re going to the store do you need anything?” sam asked. “oh-em,” “get me more tanning oil i’m out,” i propped myself up with my elbows. “girl, we meant food,” nick sighed. “oh, im good.” i smiled before laying back down. “can i have the keys?” sam asked. “oh yeah here,” i hear matt’s keys jingle. “wait,” i sat up. “who’s going?” i asked. “just me, nick and chris why?” sam pushing his hair out of his eyes. “oh no, just wondering.”

great. i’m gonna be here alone with matt.

the boys walked back inside. i picked my headphones up to put them back in my ear until i hear the door re-open. “thought i’d join you,” matt’s voice became louder.

i mentally groaned. i moved my head to my left and looked at him. “i’m not going to be doing a lot of talking, i’m tanning as you can see you,” i looked back up at the sky. a husky chuckle left matt’s mouth. “i was gonna turn on the hot tub and make the water cold for us,” i sat up for the 3rd time in the space of 2 minutes and looked at him. “nice glasses.” he teased. “thanks.” i gave him a fake smile.

i couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not they were the iconic simple black raybans.

i walked over to the hot tub, taking off the covering. “do your job.” i crossed my arms. matt laughed. “such a pretty attitude.” he walked past me and turn the hot tub on. i rolled my eyes and looked out at the view infront of us while matt did his job.

“should be good to get in.” matt picked up his bottle of beer, taking a gulp. “alright.” i dipped my foot in.

“ohhhhhhh fuck,” i moaned putting my head back in pleasure. the cold water hitting my skin felt so good against my boiling body. matt followed in after me. “so,” i clicked my tongue. matt looked at me while licking his teeth. his teeth and lips were so perfect fuck. “what’s your body count so far?” i crossed my arms. he shot me a glare.“i’m not as bad as you think i am y/n, i just like to feel good,” he put a wet hand through his dry hair. “yeah sure matt, does that mean by being inside every girl that you make eye contact with?” i tilted my head and smirked. “i’d bet you’d love it.” he raised his eyebrows and shot me a smile. “yeah, no thank you.”

i layed down on the couch in my bikini scrolling through different social media’s on my phone.

matt drained me in the hot tub. all he did was try to flirt with me and try to get me to accept to let him fuck me, so i left. it was way cooler inside from the blaring AC.

“we’re backkkkk!” nick sang while walking upstairs from the garage. i put my phone down and sat up. “did you get bottled water?” “i’m dying,” i followed nick into the kitchen. “yeah, sam and chris are bringing the groceries up now, i didn’t want to carry anything!” he chimed. i let out a small laugh before nick asked, “where’s matt?” “he’s in the hot tub,” i looked outside at him. “oooooo, i wanna get in the hot tub, “please tell me he’s not a psychopath and it’s cold?” “it’s freezing don’t worry.”

it was around 9pm. everyone was tired from the sun. all of us were in the living room, me laying on the cold floor, nick and sam sharing a arm chair, chris and matt both sprawled out on the big couch. my arm draped over my eyes while we talked while chris’ playlist while lowly playing on the tv.

“we’re off!” nick yawned. i pulled myself to sit up. “don’t go to bed too late y/n!” sam called out.

“i won’t thanks mom!” i called back.

after awhile of chris yapping to me and matt, i decided to head upstairs and going to bed.

it was 4am, i went to use my bathroom until i noticed there was no toilet paper. i groaned and made my way to my bed to grab a t-shirt to put on.

i threw on a baggy t-shirt before opening my door and making my to the bathroom. i rubbed my eyes and pushed open the half-closed door infront of me.

"fuckkkkk,” i heard a deep groan. i rubbed my eyes again. matt standing in the shower touching himself. he didn’t notice me. i quickly turned around before i heard him moan my name. no. no. no. i needed to leave. i quietly shut the door and ran back to my room.

i anxiously sat on the side of my bed biting my acrylic nails. that fucker was thinking of me while jerking off. i sighed before waiting until i could hear matt’s footsteps.

i walked out of my room to matt with a towel wrapped around his waist, wet hair and water droplets all over his body. i gulped. “showering at 4am?” i questioned. “i like night showers y/n,” he stopped. “oh yeah, i bet you do matt,” i jokingly winked. “wha-” i cut him off. “it’s okay matt, you get off to me,” i crossed my arms. “n-no, no i don’t how would you know?” his face was covered with confusion. “i have ears, anyway im going to use the bathroom,” i walked past him. he quickly grabbed my arm. “no, no,” “y/n tell me what you heard?” he quirked his eye brows up. “matt i’m going piss myself.” “i’ll see you in the morning then.”

i made way back into my room. i jumped seeing matt sitting on my bed with shorts on. his phone screen lighting up his face. “what the fuck are you doing in my room matt!” i whisper-yelled.

he smirked. “i think we should recreate what you suppose heard in the shower,” i rolled my eyes. “matt,” i sighed. “go please, i’m tired and i don’t want to fuck you sorry if that bruises your massive ego, but your probably a walking form of chlamydia,” i made my way to the opposite of my bed.

he turned and looked at me. “come on baby, i’m clean i get tested im not stupid,” he layed down on my bed, resting his hands behind his head. i layed down beside him. “i’m going asleep matthew,” i placed my head down onto the pillow behind me. “mhm,” he mumbled. he leaned down to me his lips hovering over mine, they looked so kissable. “you don’t know how bad i want to fuck you, you make it so hard when all i want to do is bury myself inbetween those thighs y/n,” he groaned. i clenched my thighs together which made his eyes shift down. a smirk now planted onto his face. “i bet your panties are soaked, can i check?” his fingers trailed down my under my shirt. i nodded my head. god what am i doing. 2 minutes ago i didn’t want him anywhere near me, now i want him everywhere.

he pulled my underwear down slowly making me impatient. i groaned and leaned my forehead against his bicep.

matt slid his fingers down my soaking pussy that was begging for his touch. “oh my fuck, “your soaking,” he groaned before slipping two fingers into me. a low moan left my mouth. “look at me,” he spoke. i quickly pulled my head up and looked at him. he picked the pace up hitting my g-spot making me moan loudly. “there it is,” matt whispered. all he did was hit my g-spot making me on the verge of my orgasm. “come on sweetheart, finish on my fingers.” his thumb met my clit making my orgasm come quicker. i clenched around his fingers and shivered while coming down from my high.

matt’s fingers were in his mouth tasting me. “you taste so sweet,” his lips finally meeting mine. i hungrily kissed him, i didn’t know i had this much energy from just coming down from my high. his right hand met my waist slowly pulling my shirt up. “take it off,” he mumbled. i quickly took my shirt off before placing my lips back onto his. his hands met my nipples. he pulled his lips away from me before placing his warm mouth onto my nipple slowing sucking it. “matt,” i moaned eyes rolling back from the pleasure. he pulled away from me. “that’s all i wanted to hear from the moment, i met you.” he grunted. “fuck me, please.” “as you wish.”

he was massive. i didn’t know if he would be able to fit inside of me.

he lined himself up with my entrance. “ready?” his chain hanging over me. i nodded my head. his head slowly entered me before pushing his whole self into me. “ohhhhh,” i let slip out. “you ready baby?” he asked again before kissing me. “mhm.” i mumbled.

matt was pounding into me roughly and i wouldn’t want it any other way. god he felt so good inside of me. i have been missing out.

he slowly pulled out of me finishing all over my stomach. his load tripping down my hips. i quickly picked it up with my fingers and placing my fingers into my mouth. the salty-sweet taste entering my mouth. “i think you were made for me y/n, you feel way too good.” matt mumbled into my neck.

[st4rbwrry]

━━━ ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑠 & 𝑤𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑠 ♱ t.f

warnings 𑄽𑄺 4.6k. fem reader, lowercase intended, she/her pronouns, black coded, university setting, violence i.e fighting, readers obsessed & it's lowkey giving omega/alpha trope lmao, public sex at a skate park, running from police, oral [ m.], riding, titty sucking, praise, minors aren't allowed!

━━━ ꒰ 𝑚𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑎’𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑠 .ᐟ ꒱ ; this is a repost of one of my old fics so enjoy!

blood. it's seeped into the pearl white t-shirt of the man walking down the hall past you, dripping from his mouth, the look in his eyes careless as he held onto the strap of his backpack on his shoulder. to this day it felt like you were seeing him in slow motion. you could still hear how fast your heart paced, the intense eye contact between you two, your sneakers squeaking against the university's floors, hallway empty other than you, and the professor beside him.

his other hand was buried into his jean pockets, strolling with his chin up as if he wasn't phased by his injury, like he barely felt it. the dark-haired man burned his eyes into you, side-eyeing you and your skimpy cheer uniform, wanting to smirk at how entranced you were by him but couldn't given the pain on his face. for some reason you wanted so badly to ask if he was okay. clearly, he wasn't. the man had just been in a brutal fight where a student cut the side of his mouth with a switchblade. this you found out later in the day at lunch. people wouldn't stop talking about it. fushiguro, they called him. it was only his last name, simply because that's all people would refer to him as.

there was no explanation for your sudden infatuation for him. it was nonsensical. you never felt anything like that before, and you've only looked at him for literally no more than ten seconds. it was even more intense the moment you walked past each other, both of you looked back to catch another gaze for a few seconds, only you were too stunned, eyes widening and quickly whirling your head back around. he was suspended. why? he wasn't even the one to start the fight. since he had a reputation, it was easy for the school to see him as the bad apple. you actually despised the fact that the culprit who started the brawl was back in school only a week after while fushiguro remained absent.

i want to see him again. he's all you could think about. this town wasn't too big, so it's odd that you haven't gotten even a glimpse of him the entire two weeks he's been gone. not while walking the streets, not the mall where every person in town visited—then again he didn't seem like the type to do that. not the tattoo shop you worked at part time . . . nothing. friday comes around and you're stuck at work, the usual. since the shop you worked at didn't close until 2AM, your manager decided to let you out an hour early just to rest up for the weekend, thankfully off.

for some odd reason, you weren't tired, even after working a full week on top of dealing with courses and mastering cheer routines. balling the plaid black and white flannel your hands created sweater paws with tighter in your fist, you stroll peacefully down the sidewalks looking at the pretty city lights, blasting rock music until coming into view with an overnight bodega, wanting a few snacks for the night since you knew you were going to be up reading on your phone until possibly five in the morning.

you're greeted by the owner, smiling and waving, making sure to turn down your music to listen in on your surroundings. grabbing mostly chips and beef sticks, you hold all of your junk to your chest while making your way over to the refrigerators, needing a real drink since you haven't had one since jesus invented the calendar. trailing your fingers across the cool cans, you scrunch your face up at any budweiser, yards, or bud light. beer? hell no. wine sounded more like it. as you go to reach for a bottle, you catch a glimpse at a buff man at the front counter; midnight hair, all black clothing, knu skool vans, and a skateboard clutched between his right underarm hand. his items are being rung up, but you can't stop staring, squinting your eyes knowingly towards the stranger. why does he look so familiar?

"see you around, fushiguro," the man waves off, your eyes widening at the name, nearly tripping over a rack full of peanuts as you watch him nod once and exit the store, seeing the side of his face where his recent scar laid.

he's already out the store, and you rush to the counter, checking out after having to show your i.d. for the wine, saying goodnight as you snatch the clear plastic bag with a 'thanks!' and rush towards the mysterious man halfway down the block. he has his airpods in, so he doesn't hear how loud you're breathing or the thuds of your sneakers hitting the gravel. you practically bunny hop beside him making the insanely huge man jump a little, thick brows scrunching with annoyance at the inconvenience beside him. he pauses his music, never stopping his tracks as he continues to walk with you beside him.

"hey, stranger," you cheekily grin.

"hey," his voice is gruff, slightly scratchy. you clear your throat, ignoring the whiplash you were just given. "what are you doing out this late? pretty girls should be home around this time. it's not safe."

wow, protective already. you raise your brows at his sentence, slightly shocked he didn't tell you to fuck off—at least with that wording. wait, he called me pretty?!

"pretty girls have adult responsibilities. i just got off of work. besides, shouldn't reckless students be on house arrest around this time?"

he ignores you, so you come up with something else. "how's your scar?"

"it's a scar," he sighs.

"when will you be back in school?"

"not sure."

"in my opinion, i think that jackass dick sucker should get his shit kicked in. what fucktard cuts someone in the face?"

the man stops abruptly, causing you to let out an 'oof' as you bump into his side, the man giving you zero attention as he drops his skateboard on the ground to use, stepping onto it and begins to stroll away.

you drop your mouth open. "rude!"

"why are you talking to me?" he doesn't even have to yell, his voice is deep enough for you to still hear him. huffing, you jog towards him, trying your best to keep up with him.

"i like you!" you groan, irritated that he was being so ignorant, and that he was making you run in a goddamn skirt.

fushiguro laughs, and the reaction stuns you, as if he wasn't capable of such an action. "you don't know me. we go to the same uni, that doesn't make us friends."

"i'd like to be your friend, though, asshole."

"i don't need any friends."

"a girlfr—"

"no," he shuts down sternly, stopping at a walkway, looking both ways before crossing the street. you roll your eyes, chewing your inner cheek when you notice he's heading to a skate park just across the road, dark and empty, a few street lights illuminating just enough light for him to see the cemented ramps.

like he's getting away from talking to me that easily. you let a car pass by before rushing behind the muscular man, fushiguro seeing your presence once more and releasing an exasperated sigh. he just wanted to be alone. "guessing 'no' isn't in your vocabulary," he scowls, taking a seat at the edge of a ramp.

"no," you say, a cocky smile following.

he scoffs, digging into his grocery bag for a pack of skittles and a green apple flavored vape pen, laying on his back on the gravel to stare up at the moon, blowing out the vapor he sucked into his mouth. you pout your lips, taking a seat next to him, reaching into your bag for your wine, knocking a few sips down in silence.

"what's your deal?"

"i just find you interesting."

"no one talks to me. so why are you?"

"not even pretty girls like me?" biting your lip, you scan over his face, and it remains the same; stagnant. "i know there's women bowing at your feet to fuck you."

   toji rolls his eyes, a habit. "whoever i fuck is none of your concern."

   "so he's not a virgin, duly noted," you whisper to yourself.

   "name."

   "[♡]."

   "cute," is all he says before standing to his feet, taking one more puff out of his pen before grabbing his skateboard and positioning it on the ledge of the ramp, steadily dropping his foot and falling down. you watch him with fascination as he skates, laying your chin in your palms with your elbows on your knees, leaning in like an attentive child. he looked so pretty under the moonlight.

   this daydream ends when you notice a group of four men far behind bushes, titling your head to see them clearly. one of them, lanky with shoulder-length blonde hair, is seen handing the person before him a clear bag with tablets in them, and in return, gets cash. they're dealing drugs. minding your business, you turn your attention back to fushiguro whom notices this, and easily you can see the anger flash in his eyes as he jumps off his skateboard and lands on his feet beside you. it's not until the group of three approaches the two of you that you see why he's mad.

   the guy dealing drugs just so happened to be river, aka the asshole who slashed his face. he stalks closer with a nasty laugh, clicking his tongue as he keeps mainly his attention on the big man beside you. "fushiguro!"

   "toji," he corrects, not fond of people using his last name. toji, you repeat in your head. hot.

   "good to see you all healed."

   "healed is an understatement."

   awe shit, you just know some shit is going down. you gather yourself, standing nearby but not too far behind him.

   "the fuck do you want?" toji snarls, and you swallow your own lips, barricading an inappropriate sound.

   river holds up a few clear zip lock bags stashed with drugs from his hoodie pocket, jangling them with a grin. "selling the goods. do you want some? ohh, wait. that's rude of me, i forgot you lived in a household full of mentally unstable people who feen for drugs."

you couldn't help but fix your posture and stand in front of toji before he beat the asshole to a pulp. by all means, don't hesitate. but, you wanted your turn first. toji doesn't allow it to phase him, since he's heard similar things a million times. what's funny is that this kid barely knows him, yet he seemed to acquire so much intel on his life.

"watch your fucking mouth," you seethe, face close to his and fists balled up. "before i cut your tongue out, then what will you have to talk shit?"

"out the way, bitch," river snarls, his hand wrapping tightly around your arm to yanking you to the side. "none of this has to do with you."

murder could sum up the stone cold stare in toji's eyes, the man inhaling before kicking his skateboard away, emerging forward with his head slightly cocked to the side. until you make this direct back to you by standing back in between again, scowling up at river who's ready to strike you this time, but, doesn't have the chance as you ball your fist and punch him hard across his jaw, not once either. the second hit is an uppercut. then comes the finale; kneeing him in the dick where he stumbles to the ground with a strained grunt.

toji stares down at the back of your head with an impressed raise of his brow, an ounce of his anger sufficing.

"last thing i am is a bitch. i'll fuck you up if you say some stupid shit like that to me again. the fuck," you're not even half done, marching forward until toji grabs your forearm and stops you, whipping your head around to catch his gaze, telling you to chill out without saying it. really, he's amused. but this isn't your fight.

he crosses around you, crouching down to river's level, latching his hand around his collar and dragging him to his feet without any emotion implanted on his face. it's all in his eyes. he's pissed that he insulted you. furious that he scarred his perfectly imperfect face. the nerve.

"the only reason you're alive is because i couldn't kill you on school grounds. don't think you're getting away so easily after what you did to my fucking face."

punch. the hit is so hard it makes you jump, practically hearing the bones in river's nose crack as toji hits him again, and again, again. all in his face to make a point. he's bleeding excessively, his so called 'friends' waiting until he's half beaten to try in step in.

"step back unless you wanna get fucked up next," he points, voice ravenous, making the two men freeze nervously. you shift in your spot, pushing back the acknowledgment of dampness between your legs.

"like i was saying," toji sniffs, ducking when river makes a lousy attempt at throwing a punch, toji grabbing his wrist, balling it in his palm as if it were a piece of paper, twisting his arm as river screams. toji pins it behind his back, shoving him down on the ground where he then presses his right shoe on the side of his bruised face. "don't look so tough without your knife now, huh? you're stupid to even try that on someone you just met. you don't know me. you don't know where the fuck i'm from."

   "fuck. you," he spits out blood over toji's vans. you hold a hand over your heart dramatically, upset about him ruining his shoe. not so much about the fact that he's brutally assaulting a freshman, a kid. a kid whose also old enough to know right from wrong. he stepped into the wrong territory like an adult, so now, he'll get his ass whopped like one. he's lucky toji didn't press charges.

should i kill him? he wanted too, badly. the kid ruined his face, a scar impossible of fading into nothingness. it's there for life. he's an idiot kid. besides, he couldn't traumatize you like that. actually, he's scared you've seen worse. sighing, he picks the boy up once again and shoves him in the arms of his friends who weakly support him. river's sight is barely there, heaving over the gravel.

"i advise you not to cross my path, since i'm back tomorrow."

you gasp, catching everyone's attention. "you are?! oh my god."

toji's eyes widen the moment you squeal happily and jump into his arms, wrapping your legs around him. he's stuck, hands instinctively going to your waist, watching one of the guys before him turn beet red and quickly divert his attention to a tree. toji now realizes your skirt is riding up your ass, rolling his eyes and turning the other way, setting you down and tugging it back in its position with a clench of his jaw.

river stands from his feet, shoving away his friends and holding his gushing nose while staring dead at his partner who was beginning to grow a boner. he scoffs, disgusted. "tomato, quit acting like you don't jerk off to porn every week. it's just an ass."

"a nice one," the other says, boldly.

toji folds his arms across his chest, you mocking him by doing the same, waiting for the group to disperse. river, their wonderful leader, steps up to toji who ups his chin, ready to clock him, as if what he had gotten wasn't enough.

"this isn't over."

"yeah, they all say that. just make sure you take that advice seriously if you'd like to see another day," toji grits his teeth, river holding back his tongue, letting out a small 'tsk' before stumbling off with his posse.

"bitch ass," you mumble.

"enough," he snaps his finger in your face. you swallow, his hard stare and sudden closeness makes your stomach do backflips. fuck, he's so hot. "you're stupid for attacking him. he could've hurt you."

"stupid for standing up for myself? nah. as for him hurting me? you wouldn't have let that happen."

"says?" he sassed.

"i can see it in your eyes," toji's eyes divert to your plush lips, watching you move closer until you're chest to chest, feeling your hardened nipples graze him through your lace crop top. "you want me, therefore, you gotta keep your prize clean."

the sound of a switchblade catches him off guard, seeing you pull the weapon from your back, grabbing the bottom of your skirt and shredding off a long piece straight across.

"what are you doing?"

"your knuckles are bleeding," you say, tucking the blade away before grabbing his hand which he's stubborn on releasing strength before finally relaxing his hand, letting you bandage it. when you lower your lips to his palm, he feels his chest warm up, your teeth locking onto a piece of the fabric to pull the knot you made tighter. "all done."

you stroll away from him, taking a seat in your original position, wine and his skittles in your hand.

"hey, didn't you but your own shit?" he growls, stomping near you, the barbaric man so intriguing to toy with. he snatches them from you, sitting down and popping some into his mouth.

"share atleast." you pout.

he sighs. "hold out your palm."

giddy, you do as he says, toji pouring the contents into your hand, swinging your legs as you happily enjoy them.

"prize."

"huh?"

"it's what you said earlier. that i have to keep my prize clean. is that your way of saying you're rewarding me?"

"i think you're a cool ass person underneath that cold," you poke his chest. "quiet exterior. i salute you for not taking shit from so many people that look at you like a threat instead of a person. maybe i'm exaggerating, maybe i'm delusional, but . . . i feel like i see myself in you. or at-least the person i'm trying to become."

"vacant?" he jokes.

"admirable," you correct with a tiny smile, toji blinking. finishing your drink and tossing your head back, you hum contently from the feel of nighttime breeze. "from what i've heard, you deal with a lot, so i admire you for still being you aside from, you know, bullshit."

"that was sweet, i'm disgusted."

you hit his shoulder, sucking your teeth as he laughs wholeheartedly. he sits up, dark eyes hunting you like prey as you run your fingers through his straight hair, leaning closer to press a gentle kiss to his healing scar.

"i'll kill him for this," you fume silently, highly upset that a human being could do this to another. you knew it hurt like hell that day, he just didn't want to show it.

"it's nice to have someone care, i've never had that."

"me neither," those single pecks of kisses turn into multiple, the alcohol in your system giving you the balls to direct the situation, holding his face still in both your hands before gently kissing him. "let's care for each other."

toji grabs the back of your neck and pulls you in, opening his mouth to slip his tongue over yours, moaning through the pain on his face and deepening the kiss, free hand groping your ass over the thin black skirt you wore, thighs covered in fishnet stockings. you exhale, disconnecting your lips, licking them to relinquish the taste of him, desire fueling you completely. you sit on your knees, ignoring the pain of the concrete, deciding to shrug off your flannel and bundle it up beneath you; substitute for a pillow.

he's gawking at you like a hawk, groaning as you trail your lips over his neck, kissing, sucking, all while unzipping his jeans and pulling his heavy cock out, brick hard for a good minute now. it rose when you told him you'd kill river just for cutting his face. couldn't help it.

"been thinkin' about you all week," your head lowers, and his skin prickles with heat the moment those full lips encase his cock. you whimper with satisfaction before wrapping your dainty fingers around, barely fitting.

"me fuckin' too," his jaw drops, tossing his head back while leading his hand to your head to gently guide you, hissing once he easily hits the back of your throat that compresses around him salaciously. he hasn't gotten head in a while, almost forgot how good it felt. so much better than his hand. you moan from the approval, gyrating your hips in the air after feeling how soaked you were. your head bobs and your lips glide to his exact desire.

his thigh twitches the more you gag or swallow him down, a lewd pop sounding the empty park as you kiss along the underside where a prominent vein pulsates, sensually kissing at his tip, slicking the point of your tongue between his slit which makes him gasp, the sensation ticklish. you took pleasure in giving men head, making you drunk off it every time.

"ooh, fuck," toji throws his head back, slowly thrusting up into your mouth, hearing him hit into your throat, pupils flipping white. you moan when he whispers 'baby' or whimpers out a 'stay here' before holding your head down for a second or two, keeping that warmth around his cock a little longer, letting you go and to his surprise, not coughing.

you leave your tongue to drool over his tip, licking your swollen lips before hiking up your skirt, toji holding the back of your thighs as you arch above him, chest in his face, gasping as he latches his mouth over your nipple through your shirt. tearing open your stockings, imbedding his fingers into your skin, so fucking soft it makes his dick jump. you smelt nice, you looked pretty, you made him feel good . . . a prize indeed.

  arching your back, you keep your left knee to the ground while your right foot remains flat, leg bent as you lift your ass and slick your entrance over his timid head, biting hard on your lower lip as you sink yourself down, clenching tight. the burn is pleasurable, so fucking thick you weren't sure if he'd even fit.

"you can do it, be gracious. aren't you rewarding me?" toji drags his teeth over your neck, behind your ear, clasping your hair once again. he's right, you totally can. it's just been a while since you've had anything remotely close to his size. you slowly work your hips to accommodate him, shuttering the lower you reach, taking a minute until he's somewhat in.

"feel that? how deep i am?" he taunts, hands gripping your hips to sink you down entirely, closing his eyes in bliss. you cry out.

toji finds it amusing that you're so fussy and talkative while engaging in conversation, but when he's smacking your ass and grunting by your ear each time you drop your ass down onto his jean covered thighs, grinding on his cock pruriently, you're not much of a shit talker. instead, you're sensitive, extremely. he rushes his fingers over your clit; you're crying. he pulls your hair; you're whimpering. he tongues your nipples over your top; you're screaming. he couldn't think properly. he's done this plenty of times, many women. with you, it's different. is it because there's an actual connection? he's fond of you. how the fuck was that possible after being in your presence for only two hours?

"yes, yes, yes," the deluge of whines makes the black haired man spellbound. your nails are forming crescents into his shoulders the faster you bounce, the two of your breaths mingling in the air, panting quicker.

"fu—fuck," toji's brows curl, paying close attention to the lecherous noise of your pussy taking him, dripping down his lower half like a faucet. "i'm getting fucking close."

"fuck me back," you plead, shifting forward as a way of telling him to lay down. he sighs shakily, your voice so goddamn venereal it's killing him. he tells you not to stop, laying on the gravel and bending one of his legs he uses to push up into you, getting rougher, bruising your flesh as he fucks you hard until you salivate, tongue sticking out and pupils scrolling back into your skull.

"good girl, cum for me," he hovers his hand inches away from your ass before hitting you over and over, your small hands compared to his balling up the black shirt on his chest, hips buckling and downright filthy moans leaving your throat as you cum to his command.

"the hell are you kids doing?!" a flashlight shines over the two of your faces, and you swear your heart falls to your ass. it's a cop. shit. gasping, you hide and hop off of him without hurting him, toji laughing as the two of you scramble to gather yourselves.

"go, go!" you yell, yanking his arm as you both run out of the park, toji being sure to snatch up his skateboard, leaving everything else behind. sprinting, the two of you rush past bushes, cars, and streets until you come in contact with a dark alleyway.

"fuck, we got caught," you laugh as you check the corner of the graffitied passageway in search for the cop you're almost sure didn't have the patience to chase either one of you.

a rough hand grabs onto your cheek, turning your gaze back to him, eyes sparkling under the dimly lit street lights. a solemn looks paints his features, fingers digging into your cheeks to make your lips pout. he traces his thumb over them, and you can tell what he wanted, reading him so well. he pushes you down to crouch before him, snagging your hair to lock you still while pulling his aching cock back out. by docility, you spread your lips apart, welcoming him with pride. he wastes no time, sliding his dick as deep as he desired and pounding until he's satiated. keeping that hand in your hair, the other resides below your chin, cupping it gently while fucking your mouth savagely.

"baby, fuck," he's spent, knees bending as he cums with a breathy moan, head resting on the wall behind your body. it's a lot since he's still sailing through his orgasm, slowly rolling his hips. you fall back, gulping before sucking him clean, making sure to hollow your cheeks, giggling when he whines. he's glaring down at you, always, dark hair dismantled over his forehead. you kiss his tip, licking your lips before tucking him back into his jeans and zipping him up.

toji helps you to your feet, wrapping his hand around your neck before kissing you tenderly, melting in his hold.

"good girl," he slips his tongue in your mouth, squeezing any part of you he liked. everywhere, basically.

good girl. it has you throbbing all over again. his praises felt warm. made you feel submissive, small, obedient. "wanna come to my house?"

toji nods, smiling shyly. "sure."

"can i tony hawk my way there?!" you ask excitedly.

toji raises his brow, shrugging with a chuckle. "okay?"