#but i'll place things under a read more anyways

[ovenborn]

PEACH BLOSSOM CONTENT... I AM LIVING.

Fun Fact: I had also considered the below a reason for how / why Peach Blossom and Mystic Flour know each other, but I ultimately liked the route I chose better. If people prefer, I can write it this way, but unless we establish otherwise I'll probably use my concepts over the this.

ALSO AHHHHHH CLOUD HAEATE MENTION TOO...

Not gonna lie — with how the story played out, it honestly seemed like Cloud Haetae had died in the past and Mystic Flour only conjured up the memory of them for the Realm of Apathy... Huh.

[sayakxmi]

Saiouma Puella Magi AU, but Kokichi takes Madoka's role and Shuichi takes Homura's.

For one, Kokichi's too naturally distrustful to just hear "I can grant you any wish :)" and not think ok where's the hook. So he just does what no one ever has & essentially interrogates Kyubey, so he knows it all even before he gets to make a contract. So, some of his classmstes are MGs & he won't become one himself BUT he still ends up tagging along to just protect them in his Kokichi ways. (Though I'm entertaining Kokichi lying about being a magical girl, because, well, it's Kokichi).

(I also got a small idea of Gonta being a magical girls and Kokichi originally tagging along him into labyrinths, Gonta also makes him a magic gun from the toy one he had, and at some point witches out & Kokichi manages to kill him with that gun. So he always has that spare Grief Seed on himself, bc it's still his best friend & he can't handle the idea of just giving it away or using it himself (he does anyway in the end).)

Shuichi prolly ends up being a new kid & it isn't like MadoHomu, the ppl who reach him first are Kaede & Kaito, classic. Kokichi's there, too, but he's his usual sus self. He's actually discouraging ppl from making a contract when they find out magic and miracles are real, which absolutely includes Shuichi. He's very vocal abt it, but he won't explain stutf, bc 1) he's a liar, so who'd believe him? and 2) he doesn't want them to witch out upon finding out the truth or, idk, murder everybody Mami-style.

Anyway, fast forward, bad things happen bingo & by the end of the run most charas are dead, there's Walpurgis nachting, and he makes his wish to bring back the ppl who died notably not as magical girls. Contract signed, he fights & fails, rip. I also thought it was similar to how he thought he could end the killing game by himself - he though he could finish Walpurgisnacht by himself, too. And he failed in both times. Whatevs.

Shuichi doesn't actually make his time travel wish for Ouma specifically, he wants to save all his friends. Timelines are messy esp at first bc he either tells then or it backfires or just makes himself look very sus bc he's trying not to tell them. He also realizes why Kokichi hadn't told anybody aby witches at some point, bc, yeah, it messes them a lot, assuming they believe it.

Still, Kokichi ends up one of the few people who are nearly always giving him a chance, not necessarily out of belief, but out of pragmatism - bro can stop time & knows the truth, that's just too useful. So they often work together & Shuichi grows closer to him but still we ain't there yet. But the thing is, Shuichi's time travel still makes Kokichi more & more powerful with each timeline, bc Shuichi usually goes back after Kokichi dies, so the universe figured out this guy's life's important. Anyway, another notable thing is the iconic Homura kills Madoka scene, but it's Saiouma with guest stars of Kaito & Maki. It's Walpy, it's not defeated yet, but the training trio are spent & just kinda accept their fate of turning into witches together. And then, boom, Kokichi appears & steals their Soul Gems for a sec & he's like did u know you can cleanse your Soul Gem with a darkened one? But it's a lie & he quickly tells them so, he just had a spare Grief Seed after cleansing his Soul Gem & he needs them to do some stuff. Shuichi can travel back in time & fix things, and Maki & Kaito are needed to fight Walpy here. He actually questions what happens to the timelines Shuichi leaves behin, and ofc he doesn't know. There's a chance they remain, so Kokichi needs Maki & Kaito to fight Walpy here.

Kaimaki leave, and Shuichi finally looks at Kokichi & realizes sth is Wrong. Kokichi struggles to hide how he's trembling & grimacing, and it's Kokichi, so obviously it must be extremely bad. Shuichi dreadfully realizes something worse, and he weakly asks Kokichi why aren't his wounds healing. And Kokichi just falls, laughing weakly, and Shuichi catches him & searches for his Soul Gem and, God, he knew it. It's nearly completely black. Kokichi laughs & admits he lied abt having two Grief Seeds, he only had one he never wanted to use. But they'll have the second one soon, so no need to worry. He asks Shuichi to maybe destroy his witch form as it's hatching, so he'll have the Grief Seed without any fighting… and he admits that he hates fighting, he hates this magical world and all its violence. He says that Kaito was right in calling him a coward, even here he just can't handle the idea of fighting any longer, he's so sorry. And Shuichi tells him he ISN'T a coward. He was scared, but he always followed everybody, trying to help, and when push came to shove he would always make a contract for the benefit of others rather than himself. He's a lot of things, but a coward isn't one. Kokichi actually tears up hearing that, and Shuichi promises he won't let him fight ever again, and especially he won't let him turn into a witch and hurt anybody, because he knows it's the last thing he's ever wanted. Even now he only accepts turning into a witch to help them fight to keep others safe. So Shuichi won't let him. Kokichi probably apologizes and thanks him and then he dies.

Keeping Kokichi from fighting starts off as a side quest that gains importance with time, bc it's something Shuichi won't compromise on (ah, trauma), which leads him to occassionally neglect others a bit, which makes them more likely to get hurt & ironically Kokichi more likely to make a contract, especially since he gets more powerful & Kyubey is more interested in him with each timeline. And that also makes him witch out super quick. Shuichi's paying more attention to him & over time grows resentful of others for how they're treating him. To Shuichi it's no question that Kokichi cares & is just doing his best to help, but nobody realizes that.

But the biggest obstacle in keeping Kokichi from fighting is actually Kokichi himself, bc he's too smart and nosy, lmao. Even if he knows nothing, he will find out quickly. Doesn't help that Kyubey wants him to make a contract.

Also, obviously Kaito is Sayaka-coded and Maki could be Kyouko-coded, so that's a thing, BUT it's usually Maki that witches out. Kaito is usually pretty close, but Kokichi intervenes & he survives, but Maki later cracks on her own (and since in the new timeline Kokichi isn't there, Kaito's the one to die, so he's still the secretary). So it's Kaito who gets the dramatic sacrifice. I imagine he genuinely hoped you could bring somebody back if you tried Very Hard & Kokichi called him a moron bc obviously it's not possible. If it was there'd be far less witches that there are. But it's Kaito, he doesn't listen to reason. So, Kokichi follows him to the labyrinth. At first Kaito's mad cuz what if Kokichi being there ruins the plan? Maki hates his guts! But eventually he gets hit pretty hard, and Kokichi is near immediately by his side, trying to help him get up, which kinda makes Kaito short circuit a little bc wait Kokichi's trying to help? But witch!Maki attacks them & Kokichi pushes Kaito away & gets caught himself (and choked until unconsciousness, naturally). Anyway, Kaito gets him away, Shuichi catches Kokichi & Kaito makes up his mind about going down with Maki & asks Shuichi to tell Kokichi that he's sorry. He doesn't get him, but he got hurt trying to protect him, so he'll believe in that if nothing else. F.

As for The WishTM, in the last timeline Shuichi lashes out at Kokichi for his willingness to just become part of the system. In no timeline has his wish actually helped, it did NOTHINHG, which OUCH but it also makes Kokichi think out of the box more & he becomes the Law of Cycles. And Shuichi realizes what is happening & freaks out bc Kokichi's doing it bc of what he told him & like Homura they end up having a momentTM in space & Shuichi remembers. He feels a lot of guilt even tho he also questions whether anything was real, but if it was, he pushed somebody he far too realized he loved into erasing himself from existence.

[icewindandboringhorror]

currently at That Point which occurs once every few months where one briefly begins pacing around the house teary eyed contemplating selling their own organs or becoming an online scammer or getting on anxiety meds so you can bear the risk taking required to be a hitman or so on and so forth.... why must everything so Expensive... Surely all would be healed in life if only I had one big plate of lasagna and a simple loan of $40,000 ... auoughhh....

[lymtw]

A Perfect Night For Wine

Toji invites you over with a simple text of:

You busy tonight, doll?

To which you respond with:

I don't think so... Not that I know of. Why?

He laughs through his nose when he reads your message. Even the way you text him has your timidness imbued into it. It's precious.

Come spend the night at my place. You told me you're off tomorrow, right?

I am, but are you sure? Driving home is not a problem for me. I can hang out and go home after.

You're staying. I wanna try something with you and it requires you to stay the night. You can't go home.

Oh okay! I'll be there in 10.

Drive safe.

Toji likes that you're very precise about the time you'll be arriving somewhere, and if you're ever late when it comes to spending time with him, you apologize profusely, nonstop. You won't stop blubbering about why you're late and how sorry you are for making him wait, even after Toji's expressed that he's more than understanding. He's the king of showing up late to plans, so he can't be a hypocrite and scold you when you don't do it often at all.

You're so sorry, though, and you don't shut up about it until he makes you shut up with a kiss. You're helpless, and you can't for the life of you figure out where to put your hands when you're so focused on the grip he had on your waist to pull you up against him.

He releases your lips, cracking a grin at the look of wonder on your face. He can't deny the pride that swells in his chest at his ability to disarm you and prevent you from having a total meltdown over a three minute delay.

Toji has gotten so much better at handling situations like these with you. It's only fair for him to gain satisfaction out of making you feel better. After all, you are a first for him. You're emotionally fragile, you're a nervous wreck, and your voice competes with the wind just to be heard. Toji doesn't set aside the fact that you're also beautiful, warmhearted, and you try for him. He sees your attempts to be affectionate. You'll slowly reach your hand out to hold his and then bail the second he catches you. He ends up having to interlock his fingers with yours because your embarrassment doesn't allow you to try again. He still appreciates that you leave your comfort zone for him and allow him to guide you towards new experiences.

"Stop with the guilty feelings, ma. We have all night and all day tomorrow. What's a couple minutes to ensure you get to me in one piece?" He says, comforting your droopy self. You look like a sad, abandoned puppy, now sporting rosy cheeks from his surprising gesture.

"Okay," you say, feeling a little more at ease. "What did you have in mind for tonight?"

"Follow me," he says, leading you through his living room to his kitchen. He pulls out a stool for you and points at it. "Sit." You want to laugh at the way he says it like he's teaching commands to a dog, but you know he doesn't mean it that way, so you obediently sit down like one anyway.

"Have you eaten anything?" He asks, silently hoping you have because he doesn't have anything to make you dinner. He would have to order in or pick something up.

"I ate a couple hours ago. Still pretty full," you respond, watching him reach up for something in his cabinets. There's now a tall glass bottle with a red label and matching cap sitting on the counter.

"How 'bout it?" He says, a large hand wrapped around the neck of the bottle. "We could go to the couch and watch a movie or something."

He's never seen you under the influence of anything, but based on your reaction, maybe he'll get a show tonight. He's always wanted to know what you would be like if you were more extroverted and outspoken. There's nothing wrong with the way you are, but if things keep going the way they're going between you and Toji, he's bound to meet your chatty alter ego at some point in the future. What better way to have this experience than in a secure place with someone who can handle their alcohol and take care of you if it turns out that you can't.

"Okay, sure." You giggle, excitedly.

You're a lightweight. Even the fruitiest, sweetest alcoholic beverage will quickly take a toll on you while you're sipping on it. Wine is a step up, so you'll have to try your best to keep it together for the sake of not looking sloppy in front of Toji.

Toji brings down two glasses, and pours out the deep red liquid into them. One for you, one for him. He hands the glass to you, and nods at your quiet "thank you".

Toji watches as you immediately take a sip. He sees the way your nose scrunches at what you consider to be a funny taste, but the second you put the glass down, you smile like nothing. You don't like it at all. You hate the bitterness, and the fact that it's made with fermented grapes lives in the back of your head.

"How is it?" He asks, holding back a chuckle. You're too sweet for your own good, pretending to enjoy this for him.

"I like it," you say, pressing your lips together.

"Yeah? I think it's kinda gross. Guess I was expecting more from a fancy ass bottle, but brands are gonna brand, huh?"

You giggle, almost involuntarily. You're one gulp in, and already you're starting to feel the effects.

One of your worst habits includes chugging drinks that don't taste good, just so you can get them over with. You even do this when your drink is messed up at coffee shop. You're too nice to ask the barista to remake it, so you suck it up and drink the incorrect beverage solely for the caffeine you hope it has in it. This time is no different. You hate the taste of alcohol. You don't do plain shots, you can't stand hard ciders, and wine is no exception, but you're doing this for Toji. He cracked open the bottle to share with you, so you're going to drink every ounce of the liquid in the glass, whether you like the taste or not.

You bring the glass to your lips again, taking a much larger sip. The glass is a little less than halfway now, and your eyelids are starting to feel a little heavy. Not in a sleepy manner, but you can't seem to hold your eyes open as wide anymore.

You exhale through your nose, shut your eyes, and then blink them back open to take note of your altered state.

"That was a lot. How are you feeling?" Toji asks, noticing a shift in your demeanor. You seem a little more sluggish now. You turn your attention to him, your eyes rolling when they turn to meet his.

"I'm good, how are you?" You ask, like it was the start of a conversation rather than an ongoing one. Your eyes almost shut completely when you smile at him.

"You're tipsy already, aren't you?" He asks, with a grin on his face.

"Pshh, what? No, i'm not," you say, contradicting yourself with a giggle. "Answer the question, baby. How are you?"

"Fine," he responds, lingering on the pet name. You've got loose lips, now. In any other circumstance, you would address him by his name. Most of the time Toji is the one giving you pet names, for the sake of flustering you. He loves the way you look at him when he calls you doll or sweetheart, somewhat shocked every time the words leave his mouth.

"Yeah? That's good." You pick up the glass one more time, sighing before you mutter, "'scuse me. Gotta finish this."

With that last sip, the glass was now empty. Even Toji thinks you drank that too fast, but he still has the courtesy to ask you if you want more.

"Mhm, I'll have a little bit more. Just a tiny bit." Toji pours as much as he did the first time, chuckling when you nod in approval of the quantity. "That's perfect. Absolutely, perfect. You're a genius, my love." You flash him a smile before starting on the next glass.

Toji was considering having another glass, but that was before you called him "my love" in a tone so warm that he felt like he just had a bowl of hot soup that was now settling in his stomach. That was before you smiled at him in such a free spirited manner. It was too late for him to see you in this state while completely sober, but he sure as hell wouldn't be adding anymore alcohol to his system. He can't miss something like this, so instead he leans forward on the counter, and intently watches your every move.

"I got something on my face?" You ask, dragging your sleeves all over your face. You examine your sleeves and they're clean. "You liar. You're looking at me like that for nothing." You squint at him, a slight scrunch in your nose to define your defensiveness.

Toji laughs, his focus now on the small pinch in your brows. "Don't go picking fights over nothing. It's not a crime to look at my pretty baby."

Your faux tough exterior immediately crumbles, the irked expression on your face dropping to the ground, at the sugary words he uses on you. Your face feels very warm, and now there's an indefinite blush on it. You can't stop smiling at the look on Toji's face. He's so focused that he's gone speechless, and you eventually break into a laughing fit because of it.

"Hey... i'm usually the quiet one. Why aren't you talking, pretty boy? Need me to shut up?"

The pet name has Toji glancing at your glass, noticing that it was full for less than five minutes. This was new— you being flirtatious towards him. He didn't have any complaints about it whatsoever.

Once again, the quantity of the wine in your glass was below the halfway mark. "Nah, baby. Talk to me. You must really like the wine, huh?"

"Mmm..." you lean forward towards him, with your elbow on the counter and your chin in your palm. "What makes you say that?"

He actually snickers this time, earning a sly grin from you. "You're chugging it like it's water. It's either you love it or it tastes like ass and you're dying to spit it out."

You pick up the glass again, one last time. "Let's find out if I like it," you say as if you're not on your second serving. You let the liquid hit your tongue, and you are instantly repulsed by the flavor. The glass is tilted all the way up, signaling that you've finished two cups of wine in less than fifteen minutes. Your cheeks are filled with the drink, blown up like a puffer fish, which makes Toji smile softly with anticipation for your reaction. Your tongue stays on the roof of your mouth, keeping the wine in your cheeks separate, to give you a break for a few seconds. You release the bubbles of your cheeks and your mouth is flooded with the bittersweet liquid. You swallow the burgundy mouthful and smile with your lips pressed together once it's all gone. The mouth drying effect of wine is your least favorite thing about it.

"So?" Toji prompts.

"It's-" you gag, clasping a hand over your mouth with wide, slightly teary eyes.

Toji's chest and shoulders shake as he contains his laughter, his lips pressed together tightly to stifle the smile threatening to show itself, but his eyes tell you everything.

"Wooo, sorry about that," you say, chuckling through the embarrassment. "It's good," you repeat, still muffled by your palm.

"Yeah? Want more?" Toji asks, holding up the bottle with a teasing grin on his face.

You almost gag again but manage to control yourself. "No, thank you. Any more and I'll doze off, and we both know that's not what i'm here for." There was a hint of sultriness in your tone, something Toji was not sufficiently familiar with. It was a completely welcome shift from your normally tentative way of speaking to him.

"I know why you're here, but I wanna know what you think you're here for."

You stand from your stool and lean more of your body onto the counter. Your hand reaches for his, and for the first time, you don't pull back before making contact with his skin. "To love on you, of course," you say, with those pretty rosy cheeks. Your eyes remained glossy and your nose was still red from trying not to bring the wine back up earlier, but Toji thought you looked so cute.

"Is that right?" His thumb brushes over your knuckles, feeling the softness against his rough fingertip.

"Let's go watch that movie you were talking about and you'll see what I mean."

Toji was loving this. Your confidence, your lack of holding back anything you had to say, it was truly baffling how you could be someone else entirely with just a couple glasses of wine.

You keep his hand in yours, and as if it were your house, you say, "come on," and drag him along to the living room.

This time you say "sit" and point at the couch. This time he's the obedient dog and does as you say, sitting on the exact cushion you were pointing at with a smirk on his face. He moves the couch pillow aside to make room for you, but you had another seat in mind. You take two steps towards him before slowly dropping yourself into his lap, straddling him.

"I see you're finally taking your seat on the throne, hm?" He grins, resting his hands on your waist. This is the closest Toji's been allowed to watch you giggle without you burying your face into his neck and it's a trip. He can see the details of the creases around your eyes and the lift in your cheeks as you smile. He feels fuzzy, and he didn't even finish his glass of wine, so he knows it's not that.

"Stop making me laugh and pick a movie, will you? I'm here for that, too."

He picks up the remote for the TV and turns it on. "How are you gonna watch the movie while facing me?"

"Actually,.. can I tell you a secret, baby?" You ask, wrapping your arms around his neck. Your fingers play with the hair that reaches towards the nape of his neck, combing through it gently.

"What's that, princess?" Toji asks, vert eyes flitting between your eyes and that sweet smile of yours.

"I don't wanna watch a movie. I... wanna look at you... and that's it." Your nails gently scratch the back of his head, eliciting a tingly sensation that makes chills run down his spine.

"That's cool, too," Toji says, turning the TV off again, not caring that it was on for less than a minute before you changed your mind. He sighs, adjusting his position beneath you. Your thighs are secured around his hips, your knees touching the backrest of the couch.

"You're so handsome, my baby. God, look at those eyes," you whisper in awe, before giggling and bringing your hands to his face. You trace the bags under his eyes with your thumbs while admiring the haunting shade of green that scopes on you. Toji's hand comes up to loosely wrap around your wrist. He's not there to stop you, he just wants to move along with you as you observe his face.

"I know I don't say this to you enough, but I find you..." you sigh, blinking slowly, "enchanting..." You lean in and kiss the left corner of his lips—his right, and feel the smooth, tattered skin beneath your warm lips. "and I love you," you mumble into the cicatrix. "So fucking much, baby. And i'm sorry that you'll never know exactly how much because you aren't me." You're looking at him with so much adoration and touching him with a delicacy that can't be put into words. It's a deadly combination, one that has Toji in a chokehold and forces him to soften up even more for you.

He tightens the hold he has on your waist, pulling you closer until your stomach is pressed to his, as a result. You being so affectionate towards him is making him feel really good, and you have no idea because you're too focused on appreciating him. He's subconsciously leaning into your touch, his softened gaze meeting your lovestruck one.

"Fuck. I love you, too, princess," he murmurs, squeezing your wrist in his hand. He pulls your hand down to his chest. "Want you to aim for my lips, this time."

"Okay," you say, smiling before closing the distance between your lips and Toji's. He can still taste the remnants of the wine you inhaled minutes ago, but it tastes much better and a lot sweeter on you. Toji can hear your high pitched little hums as you kiss him, happiness pouring into your kisses. You're trying so hard not to laugh in his face, and trying is the best you can do, right now. You never were good at hiding your smile from Toji. He can't see it, but he can feel the way your lips widen, and he's occasionally kissing your teeth when your sluggishness keeps you from matching his pace. With little pants leaving you, you drag your lips away.

He sighs, frustrated by the loss of your softness against him. "Baby..." he groans, the sound almost whine-like to your ears. He wants more, so much more of you, and you're ignoring him. You're too busy kissing his chin, and his cheeks, and the tip of his nose.

You drag your other hand down to his chest and keep your hands splayed out on it as you let your lips trail his jaw, lightly sucking on the skin. Toji can't help but think about how this version of you will be gone in the morning. You won't be as outwardly affectionate, you'll go back to second guessing every move you make with him and shrinking every time he steals kisses from you, instead of confidently kissing him back like you did a minute ago.

You make your way down his neck, pressing kiss after kiss on him before you move towards his ear. "I love you, Toji," you whisper, kissing the shell of his ear after. "Love you, love you, love you soooo much," you barrage, before throwing him off with a bite to his earlobe. You giggle like a menace into his ear, the warmth of your breath luring goosebumps out onto his skin.

He chuckles, repeatedly squeezing the soft skin of your waist between his hands. "Yeah? Tell me again," he murmurs snaking his hands beneath the back of your shirt. Your skin is very warm, and there's nothing to blame but Toji and that shitty wine for making your body react this way.

With uninterrupted hands, you course your fingers through his hair and lean in to bite him again, this time on his neck. Toji chuckles at how you instantly rush to soothe him with your tongue and a warm kiss, even when you inflicted zero pain on him.

"I love you, Toji," you repeat into the wet indentations you left behind. "My love... my handsome man... I cherish you, you know?"

Toji is practically purring at all the affection you're showering him with. The slurring of your words is blocked out and they remain clear as day to him. He manages to hum a deep little "mhm" to your last statement.

"It's just so hard to talk to you sometimes. You... you're so intimidating, sometimes. I don't expect you to understand..." you divert your gaze to his shoulder, not able to look him in the eyes as vulnerability takes sudden control of your emotions. "It seems like I don't appreciate you sometimes—all the time, but I do, Toji. I do appreciate you, and I can't ever say I love you enough to show it. Words aren't always enough."

Toji catches the waver in your voice and his eyes dart to yours. You're tearing up, and you're trying to still your quivering lips by pressing them together.

"Shit," Toji mutters under his breath. You have the saddest expression he's ever seen and it's messing with his heart. He pulls his hands out of your shirt so that he can swiftly pull you into his warm embrace. "Hey," he coos. You're shaking against him, holding your breath to avoid sobbing. Your lungs burn, but you'd rather feel that than make a scene of your tears. "Don't be sad, mama. What's with the tears, hm?" he murmurs. He can feel your tears dampening his shoulder, but the fact that you haven't made a sound is concerning. "Breathe or you'll die," he says, only half joking. He rubs a soothing palm against your back, his other arm around your waist.

You let out what sounds like a mixture between a choked laugh and a sob, slowly but surely regulating your breathing. You don't even feel like saying anything anymore because you know your voice will give way to even more pity.

"You're more than enough for me," Toji says, his chin resting on your head. "I know how you feel, you know how I feel. We're complete." He can feel the way you scrunch his shirt up into your fists. As if he would go anywhere without you. "I get you and you're stuck with me. Got it?" You silently nod against his shoulder in response. "Sit up and let me look at you."

You really don't want him to see you this way. Your eyes feel swollen and you don't feel presentable.

"I can't..." you say, barely audible. You release his shirt and let your hands go limp behind him.

"Why not?"

"I'm not pretty right now. Don't look at me."

"I'm gonna look at you," he challenges with a teasing grin.

"Toji, don't look at me."

"Too late, it's happening. Plan's already in motion," he says, sliding his arms onto your shoulders.

"Toji, don't-" He effortlessly pushes you off his shoulder and gives you a once over. You look defeated and you're unable to look him in the eyes, but at least he can see you now.

"Don't know what you were so worried about. You look the same but more blush-y." You finally give him your slightly reddened eyes, a soft smile appearing on your face. You look like your sober self. "Yeah, you look the same."

"Are you lying?" You ask, still not regaining the full strength of your voice yet.

"I wouldn't tell you if I was, but no, i'm not lying. You're so pretty." Toji wiped away tears that were stuck beneath your eyes, and you giggled. He washed away your sadness within a couple minutes. Toji always did this for you in exchange for your love and affection. He lifted your spirits when you didn't feel deserving of him, and with time, he got much better at recognizing the signs that came with this ridiculous idea you planted in your head.

"You're done loving on me? Already?" He asks in playful disbelief.

"You're not done with me? Do you actually want more?" You ask, hesitantly.

"Don't want more, I need more," he corrects, returning his hands to their rightful place on your waist. "Get all up on me, princess."

You giggle, leaning closer towards him to peck a kiss onto his cheek.

"Mhm, like that," he says, contently, when you pick up the pace and start smothering him. "Yeah, baby, there you go." His forearms go beneath your shirt, encircling around your bare waist and pulling you close to him like before. "Who's getting spoiled like me?" He says through a grin. You're holding back laughs as he continues to praise you for your affection.

"S-Stop," you say through a wheeze, not able to contain the sound any longer when you looked at him.

"What are you laughing at, huh?" He chases you this time, pressing his nose into your cheek before planting a light kiss into your jaw.

"You're so unserious," you say, turning your head as he keeps going with the kisses.

"Mmm... I'm serious about you," he says, feeling the vibration of your laughter against his grin. "So serious."

Your cheeks feel incredibly hot from how much you've been smiling. In this little drunken haze, things are so good. You're so happy, you're so affectionate, and you talk so much. This isn't like you at all, but it's not hurting anyone, especially not Toji. There was one minor slip, but you moved past it so quickly like the words never left your head to begin with. You're just so simple... so easy to take care of.

Toji notices the way your eyes are starting to lid with tiredness, and while he would love for you to doze off in his arms right then and there, you'd probably prefer waking up in a bed.

"Let's go to bed, yeah?" He suggests.

"What? No! I just got here... We can still talk, and kiss and- I'm not even tired."

Toji grins at the way you fight him on this, and he has half a mind to indulge you when you look so adorable, but he has to stand his ground. He's right.

"But, you are. You can't even hold your eyes open, anymore."

You feel sad again because the rest of the night would be going to waste if you both go to sleep early. You're there to spend time with Toji, and yet you feel like it's your fault your time is being cut short. You're thinking you shouldn't have drank the wine so quickly, if at all.

"Listen, doll," Toji says. He doesn't like the sadness that resurfaces on your pretty face. He doesn't think you should look that way because of him. "We're just gonna go lay in bed. We don't have to go to sleep. We can stay up as long as you want. Light on or light off, whatever you wanna do, let's just move it to the room."

You sigh, still not completely convinced that the night isn't over, but Toji managed to persuade you. "Will you carry me, please? My legs feel like jelly."

"Of course. What kind of person would I be if I let you stumble into the room on your own?"

You sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, your face buried into the crook of his neck. "You'd still be my favorite person, but i'd be a little upset..."

Toji stands from the couch, humming in response to your quiet mumbles.

"...but not really upset. Just a little bummed. Not for too long, though, 'cause I love you, but I would expect an apology from you if I fell down," you draw out.

Toji cracks at your little ramblings. It's a ten second walk from the couch to the bedroom, and the whole time you were working through a hypothetical conflict.

"Yeah? You'd want me to say sorry?" He asks, setting you down on the bed.

"Mhm, and then I wouldn't be upset or bummed anymore," you mutter to yourself as you roll onto your back.

"That's fair. Want the light on or off?"

"Off," you blurt. "Let's tell scary stories," you trill, enthusiastically. You pull the blanket over your lower body until it reaches just below your chest.

Toji makes his way to the bed after turning off the light. He takes his shirt off, and out of habit lets it fall to the floor. "We're not telling scary stories this late at night," he says, joining you beneath the blanket.

"But, they're funny," you say, turning to face him. "I don't get scared, either."

"Depends on who's telling the story. I'm sure as hell not gonna feed you a nightmare, doll."

"Boo," you say, lowly. "Whatever, i'm over it already," you mutter, rolling your eyes.

Toji watches you grow more and more tired as you throw random, nonsensical topics at him. You're taking longer to respond by the minute, and you're dozing off while humming in thought. You shake awake each time it happens and try to keep the conversation going, but Toji just shushes you and tells you to go back to sleep.

"I can see the moon through the window," you mumble, looking past him.

"I know, shh..." he hushes you, again.

"There's only like... one star," you whisper, in awe.

"Baby, come here," Toji says, like he's about to lecture you about the rules of sleep, but really he's just thinking that if his body heat doesn't put you down, he's gonna have to stay up with you until you fall asleep on your own.

You scoot closer towards Toji, tucking your arms into your chest when he reaches out to pull you into him the rest of the way. His body exudes so much warmth, you feel like you don't need the blanket at all.

There was nothing left for you to say when you couldn't see or feel anything but him. It was as if you were gone the second he enveloped you in his arms. You were small to the brink of nonexistence, no longer there to tell him what your surroundings were, or to ask him thoughtless, silly questions. You were no longer there to fight off the sleep he only seemed to bring closer towards you. Feeling his warm skin against you made you change your mind about this invisible fiend that was pulling your eyelids down. You now welcomed the calls to rest from your steady heartbeats.

Your silence gave him the answer he needed, but for good measure, he poked at you with a whisper of, "Ma?" and waited a few seconds for your response. Nothing. He sighed and coiled around you tighter. Thoughts of the night ran through his head. Your soft, yet, occasionally bruising kisses and the imprints of your teeth on his skin, your unapologetic laughter, your certainty in using the pet names that claimed him as yours. He was weak for the amount of times you openly told him you loved him. It was a psychedelic dream, to say the least. One he hoped would continue once he followed you into slumber.

You woke up hours later, completely smothered by your bear of a man. All you could do was stare up at the ceiling, while you waited for Toji to wake up because he was literally breathing down your neck. His arm rested over your chest, his legs were tangled with yours, and his face was right beside your face. You weren't feeling the effects of the wine anymore, and luckily, you didn't have a headache or any signs of a hangover. You were back, which meant...

"What are you staring at?" A deep, raspy voice jolts you out of your thoughts.

You look at the handsome face next to you, and as if your heart can hear and see, it wakes up. "Nothing. Just woke up," you lie.

"Mm... you were staring hard at the roof. I thought it came to life or something," Toji chuckles. You smile, briefly, before looking at the ceiling again.

Toji releases you and flips onto his back, wanting to know what's so fascinating about the space you're looking at. "What are you thinking?" He asks, when he discovers nothing but blank space.

You take your time, not wanting to stumble over your words. Your heart skips a beat when he turns his head to look at you. In the time it takes for you to respond, you both could have gone back to sleep again.

"A penny for your thoughts?" he finally says, following the idiom with a question. "Did I even use that correctly?"

You can't help but laugh, nodding your head to answer his question. "I'm thinking about last night. Sorry if I said anything stupid."

Toji turns his body towards you again, thinking the only thing that's stupid is that he's still staring at the roof instead of staring at you. "You didn't. You were calm, from what I got to see, at least."

"So... boring."

"Not boring," he instantly catches. "You were perfect. You didn't have me running around chasing you, you weren't a brat—it couldn't have gone better, ma." He purposely missed something in his less than brief recount of the night to you. He can think back to the emotions that seeped through your little daze, and your insecurity about outwardly showing him love, all he wants, but there's no way in hell he's bringing that up to you, now. "You ramble a lot," he adds, a soft smile emerging on his face.

You can feel your cheeks warming up. "Oh god," you groan in embarrassment. "That's not- Sorry, that sounds... not so fun. Annoying of me, actually."

"Stop, it was cute," he assures, adding more fury to the blush creeping on your face. "Then you wouldn't go to sleep 'cause you kept seeing stuff outside the window."

You wanted to drown yourself in the blanket. Shame and embarrassment were winning their battle against you, as always.

"That was also cute," he says, watching the way your lips twitch as you bite back a smile. "You know my favorite part, though?" He says, grinning as he leans towards your ear.

"N-No, what?" You ask, trying so hard not to giggle.

"When you kissed me and told me you loved me," he murmurs into your ear like it's a dirty secret.

You snicker, the short sound of amusement evolving into laughter within seconds. You throw the blanket over your face and partially over Toji's face. The sight of your veiled body shaking with laughter lured out a couple chuckles of his own.

"That's funny?" He asks, pulling the blanket down, allowing you to see the sly grin he's sporting.

"A little bit," you respond, smiling— a remainder of your laughter.

"Silly girl. Come here," he says, dragging you back into his arms. "There's no reason you should be awake at six in the morning on your day off. Let's go back to sleep," he murmurs into the crown of your head. "We can go out for breakfast, later."

"Okay," you mumble, eyes shut already as you embrace the natural warmth of his body.

"One more thing," he murmurs. You don't raise your gaze, but your ears are open and you're listening closely. "Tell me you love me."

You didn't expect that, but you weren't going to deny him of such a simple thing. The words were easy to recite because you meant them with every fiber of your being. "I love you, Toji," you comply, immediately.

He sighs, contently, almost like hearing those words revitalized him. "Love you, too, mama."

That went out to every version of you.

[nicholasgoodgirl]

sin? maybe - father charlie

summary: your priest takes you home and it leads to other things

warning: p in v, oral (m receiving), face fucking, after care, virginity loss.

a/n: chat idk how to feel abt this at all and am too scared to read it back. i swear if i spelling his name wrong the whole time. im deleting this acc off the face of the earth

3:23pm

you were waiting in the rain; unbothered than anything. but there was no denying the tempeture change as the rain continued it was beginning to become unbearable. five minutes turning to ten, ten turning to fifteen. your mom still never came

you walked back into the church drenched from all the rain. your white dress sticking to you, it was still cold in the church nonetheless.

"y/n?" you turn around to your name being called "what are you still doing here?" father charlie asked.

"oh my mom never came to get me" she probably drank to much and passed out somewhere, it was embarrassing to admit but thats the only reason you went to church, so you can be far from her and to be nothing like her.

"you're all wet. how long have you been out there?" you shrug at his question. he tilted his head in observation looking you up and down; his eyes lingering longer on your breast.

that would have normally made you uncomfortable if it were anyone else, but it was father charlie and everyone knew him as the 'hot priest' and they weren't wrong either.

he clears his throat "uh I'll give you a ride home" he gave you a quick smile then grabbed his keys off the alter and on the way out grabbing his umbrella.

he put his hand on your lower back guiding you under the umbrella. he gave you the keys so you can unlock the car "why don't you start the car up while you're at it"

"oh i dunno how" you declined the offer politely but he insisted that you did it anyways so he can hold the umbrella for you.

you open the car door and bend over putting the upper half of your body inside the car and trying to start it up like that instead of actually sitting down. the key wouldn't really turn so you put your knee on the seat getting into the car more. while doing this you could gradually feel your dress raise. something in you just knew he was looking up your dress

you give up "i can't get it to start" he lets out a low chuckle and takes the keys from you and gestures for you to get out the car. you hold the umbrella while he gets in the car to start it up. the engine cuts on and he takes the umbrella from you and walks you to the passanger side and shuts the door behind you.

--

3:34 pm

in the car everything he did and had in his car intrigued you. the way he drives with one hand on the wheel and the other hand rested on his leg. the blankets he had in the backseat, the rosemary cross that was hanging from the rearview mirror

"whats your house adress?" he questioned parking at the stop sign, waiting for your answer.

you shrug again "you don't know where you live?" he probed. you did but it was embarrassing to think about how if your moms boyfriend saw you with a guy he would beat you.

"do you wanna come to my house instead" his question was almost hesitant but i accepted the offer with a smile.

--

4:01 pm

his house was nothing fancy, the aura of the place was comforting. he started a fire in the fireplace and it set a more warm tone in the room.

"you can use my shower. just walk down the hall, it's to your right. I'll bring you a warm towel and clothes"

you walk down the hall and take a turn to the right and find his bathroom. it was definitely not like the bathroom at your house. it was clean the, the scent of father charlie lingered.

you undress then walk over to the shower putting it on hot. a couple minutes into the warm water hitting your body changing your body temperature from cold to warm there was knocks at the door.

"It's unlocked!" i yelled from the shower. and the door opens "i have no actual clothes that you would probably wear to bed but you can wear one of my shirts" ,,don't even worry about it" you reassure

it didn't matter to you, you actually liked the idea of prancing around in that mans shirt. you couldn't forgive yourself for how bad you wanted him to fuck you in the shower.

"well call me if you need anything" he opens the door to leave out. "wait!- wait.. father charlie"

"you can just call me charlie" he corrects. "could you maybe talk to me about your day or anything i don't wanna be alone right now"

you could hear father charlie chuckle at the question "sure. why not"

he began talking about his day while i cleaned myself off. he went into detail about how he made his breakfast and how precise everything had to be. meanwhile i just couldn't get the thought of him talking me through sex.

"you're doing so well"

"how does that feel"

"you need me to slow down" the thought didn't stop it felt so wrong but you needed him. you were giving him hums to let him know you were still listening.

you turn the water off "can you hand me my towel" your hand reaches out of the curtain and you can feel the towel being placed in your hand "thank you"

"can i-" he was cut off by you walking out the shower with just your towel on. he cleared his throat "I'm gonna go" he reached for the door but you grabbed his arm and stopped him.

"will you stop it" he snaps. both his hands grab your arm "stop! im trying so hard not to sin but for fucks sake you're making it nearly impossible"his words comes flying out faster than you could process

"oh.." you mumbled. "y'know we can do something about your little problem" you look down at the buldge in his pants.

he wasnt wearing his vestmant anymore he was just in a black button up with some black formal pants making it more noticeable.

"fucking hell" he grumbled, rolling his eyes. "such a slut. i thought you would have been good. looked so pure" he spat almost like it wasn an insult. "guess not"

"have you ever touched youreslf?" the question wasnt one you would like to answer cause you always felt shame afterwards but nodded anyways avoiding eyes contact; not proud of your doings.

"of course you do" he breathed out "on your knees" ,,what?" you question unsure if you heard him right

"baby you have been so sweet to me so far and I'd hate it if i have to repeat myself"

you drop to your knees and he unbuckles his belt not breaking eye contact with you once. father charlie pulls his pants down and his underwear.

you grab his dick and put it in your mouth. hallowing your cheeks out "look at you taking me so well" he tangles his hand in your hair, grabbing ahold of it and pushing your head forward causing you to gag; you could feel him touching the back of your throat.

"lord please forgive me" he whispered so low it's a suprise you even heard the words come out his mouth

at this point he was just fucking your face, he was watching as his cock disappeared into your mouth. after a while your eyes began to water.

he pulls you away from him "stand up" ,,did i do something wrong?" you ask, letting your towel drop, standing to your feet. wanting to fix any mistake you made along the way. "no sweetheart, you did just fine i just wanna be inside you instead"

he turns you over but you weren't as thrilled about this as he probably was. you were a virgin and too scared to tell him.

he bends you over the counter and you grab ahold of it for support. he lines himself up with you and pushes in

"so fucking tight" he groaned. "wait-" you hit the counter top with your hand "please just wait" you whine

he stops what he's doing and waits for your signal to go "you can move.." my words come out sounding almost strangled.

he pushed in and out of you and for a second you can hear his breath hitch "are you on your period?"

"what!? no" you look behind you and see his lips slowly curl into a smirk "you're a virgin aren't you?" ,,mhm" you nod "even better" he gloated

you could feel his dick hit a spot that made your toes curl. the burning sensation goes away with each rut. you let a few whimpers slip and a grunt with every thrust; your body jolting forward.

he gripped your hips tightly to allow himself to pound into you. you could have sworn you felt his tip hit your cervix.

the sounds of skin slapping against eachother flooded the bathroom "you're such a slut. letting your priest fuck you over a bathroom counter"

he pulled your hair back putting you into a deeper arch, to hit your sweet spot. a guttural moan leaves your lips "oh fuck" you moan.

father charlies hand goes down to your clit rubbing firm circles, sharp uneven breaths pulled through you as you could feel your orgasm approching.

with no warning his warm seed coats your insides, as he rides out his high. his fingers continues to rub in circular motion which makes you finish next; unfolding right there.

you hold his hand to stop him. "im done i can't take anymore" you whisper.

"im sure" he pulls out letting a hiss escape, then walks over to the shower and letting the water run again. the both of you get in and shower together.

he got done before you and while you were still getting clean he made you a snack.

--

5:59 pm

you two were laid in bed. your head resting on father charlies chest while he traces light shapes on your skin.

"what do i tell my mom" you ask. "whatever you want sweet girl" he kissed your head. what were you gonna tell your mom, you were with another man in his shirt. and overall he's the priest of the church you go to.

[paper-mario-wiki]

Could you explain how Ambrosia is able to come back after dying?

1

Sure yeah, I'll give it a shot.

[Fursona Lore/ Mild Existential Horror presented in charmingly primitive MS Paint style under the cut]

2

[At the top of the panel there is the label "conceptual space (currently being created. The middle is labeled "THE UNIVERSE, REALITY (the other)". The bottom is labeled "CONSCIOUSNESS, REFLECTION (the self). The very bottom of the panel reads "OTHER, FREAKIER BUT LESS IMPORTANT STUFF" ]

To keep it brief, a person is when a certain amount of consciousness slips upwards into reality. Consciousness is, like the laws of thermo dynamics [sic], a fundamental property of the universe.

3

I'm sure you've heard of the sticking-a-pencil-through-paper metaphor for theoretical wormhole travel, right? Staying within that visual metaphor, imagine the moisture in the air around that "piece of paper" as what consciousness is. It creates tiny, imperceivable changes in the surface and makeup of the paper. Imagine a microscopic rain cloud making a tiny fraction of the paper a little bit soggy. That's what you are in the universe. A tiny soggy fraction of a massive piece of paper. (That's why you feel so small btw).

Of course, putting it into that metaphor IS greatly simplifying it, since in real life things like time and space sorta overlap, ya know? Because they're entirely separate dimensions of measurement. Consciousness is the same, it is everywhere in the universe all at once, but only after it seeps in from a place that is exactly where we are, but elsewhere. 4D stuff is complicated sorry if that's not super clear ha ha.

4

Normal people happen when a bunch of that stray potential-consciousness starts stacking more and more layers of reality on top of itself. Sort of like those pastries that you fold butter into and then fold it like 10 times and that makes it so theres like a billion layers of butter and dough and butter and dough and butter and dough and on and on and on. But with, uh. The other stuff. Consiousness and matter from the universe.

Speaking semantically, that's all the little tiny organisms that work really hard to make you alive. Like the biome in your gut, or the bacteria in your tissue and blood cells. Look it up, 43% of the human body is made of bacteria. Like, that's just on google.

Anyway, all their effort culminates in an increasingly complex meat shell that constitutes a person.

5

For the sake of practicality, we can imagine the way consciousness "seeps in" to the universe is like heat coming off the sun. The two overlapping infinite planes radiate into each other like heat radiates off the sun.

That clear? Heat from the sun. Remember that, it's important for the next part.

6

I'm sort of like a solar flare.

My consciousness, in its raw form, was so concentrated that it was like a tiny shooting star straight from the source.

Also kind of like a kidney stone, I guess.

7

Since my consciousness (which, to be clear, is approximately the same "amount" of consciouessness as anyone else, just all smooshed together into a single clump) is smooshed together into a single clump, the shell forms naturally as "reality" settles onto it. The "shape" the consciousness takes is basically the same as your body or anyone else's since the framework of both entities are the "same" on the "outside". Thus the "shells" turn out "similar" too.

Sorry for all the quotation marks, it's hard to talk about concepts outside of the third dimension in third dimensional terms, and like. I also am not super sure about this stuff either. I'm only relaying what I've learned from the scientists but some of it goes over my head.

I like to think I'm clever but like. I'm not a genius.

8

So here's the part where me and you are different: When your shell breaks apart (when you die) it's because the consciouessness had been escaping your shell, like air from a balloon, and the physical structure can't support itself anymore. Or, like, maybe you just fall over and hit your head on the concrete one day and pop the balloon all together.

Either way, the consciousness escapes from the pressure, and either goes back "down" where it came from, or goes upward into conceptual space, which is sorta being constituted through forces exerted in the physical universe. Well, I mean, really it's more of a product of a reaction between consciousness and physical space. Whatever I'm getting off topic.

The point is the shell breaks cuz the balloon pops. I think that was my point.

9

Now that you get all that, you can probably deduce on your own how and why I'm able to keep "coming back".

It's cuz I'm not really "coming back", I'm still here! The shell representing me here was just lost.

10

And while the facade may not look precisely the same every single time...

11

I remain the same.

[orchidyoonkook]

PG | KTH

Title: PG 

Pairing: Older Brother's Best Friend!Kim Taehyung x (F)!Reader

Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Touches of Fluff

Summary: You aren’t delusional enough to think anything would ever happen between the two of you, not for a damn second. Be it the age difference, the fact that he’s your brother's friend, or the extremely high likelihood that he sees you as nothing more than Fourteen’s annoying little sister that he can use to rile said best friend up.

But that’s about it. Nothing more. And reality is something you’re able to keep a solid grasp on when it comes to him. You don’t let it go for the sake of acting on a one sided and unrequited feeling you know will pass… eventually.

Warnings: nicknames! a disgusting amount, language, assholes being assholes but being put in their place, brotherly love, sibling antics, tae is a swimmer and knows judo, also a Dan is--for the lack of better phrasing--a high belt level in judo. think of it like a black belt, OC cant keep it in her pants and neither can tae, mutual pining, lots of great gatsby references because I'm tyring to be that bitch (I am joking), tae has tats, OC's brother is an overprotective idiot but we love him anyway, slight physical abuse not by tae or reader or fourteen--basically someone grips an arm too harshly, some panic but no panic attack,

Explicit warnings under the cut.

Word Count: 11,521

Release Date: September 15, 2024. 12:00PM

A/N 1: The biggest most huge thank you to @violetsiren90 for being my sounding board, tech support and beta. She's a real one and y'all are sleeping on her work if you haven't alread read it. Go check her out!

A/N 2: My access to the adobe suite was aha....revoked. So! this is my first time making a banner and divider without photoshop. Therfore, the banner and the divider are a bit different than what I'm used to having XD. Tumblr is also absolutely destroying the qualty which is sooooo great. It looks wonky and blurry to me on desktop but fine on mobile so it is what it is. If i ever get adobe access again I'll probably come back and update the graphics.

Explicit Warnings: *ahem* nicknames, teasing, kissing, biting, marking (several ways), hand and finger kink (duh), voice kinklet (duhhhh), hair 'pulling' (m rec), semi public if you squint, hella foreplay, tae has a big dick, penetrative sex, oral (m+f rec), fingering, handjob?, multiple orgasms, body worship, switch like activities but mostly dominant tae, posessiveness, confessions, reader takes what she wants but so does tae, exhibitionism if you squint, slight cum play/eating, implied squirting, choking, cream pie. Pretty sure thats all of them. i never reailse how many i need to put until the list is done and wow *chuckes while blushing*

“Oi, can you fucking not? My sister’s right fucking there,” your older brother, Fourteen—nicknamed for his forever mental age—ridiculously and unneededly overprotective as always, says.

It is especially unneeded and ridiculous as he’s saying it to Tae, when all he’s doing is taking off his shirt to go for a swim in your pool. Like he’s been doing since you were tweens.

Well.

Since you were a tween and they were nearing the legal drinking age. But that’s besides the point. 

Best friend to your knuckle head of an older brother, you honest to god have no idea how they became friends. 

Taehyung is poetry and jazz and button up cotton shirts. Old book smell and expensive cologne, ringed fingers and whiskey, neat. The kind of vibe someone would get from being raised by a very successful lawyer for a father and a top ranking university professor of literature for a mother, while Fourteen is… your older brother. 

Maybe it’s a younger sister thing to not understand how her older brother has any friends. Considering you grew up with him, know all of his weird and gross habits, have a lovely dash of sibling bullying thrown in that you two share equally, and more. Yet, by some miracle, he and Tae manage to balance one another out. 

Tae—fucking somehow—makes your brother into a more presentable human being. He showers more than twice a week and wears deodorant every day now—even puts the seat down after peeing, a habit you’ve been screaming at him to stop doing since you could use the toilet. While Fourteen gives Tae a rougher edge he previously never seemed to be able to grasp, despite trying his best too. 

For example, the several delicate tattoos he now has all over his body, your favourite of which is an old timey record player on the inside of his forearm. They were something he’d been wanting to do for years, but only finally bit the bullet on and did once Fourteen took him when they were twenty two. 

Since then the collection’s only grown, much to your inner glee and mental dismay. 

And don’t even get you started on the delicate, thin rimmed glasses he occasionally wears—golden and the perfect shape for his face—or the ear piercings that just really fucking cement the tortured poet look that makes your heart clench every. single. time. you look at him. 

Similarly to what it’s doing right now, though no one ever knows due to your truly oscar worthy talent for acting completely oblivious to the beautiful shirtless man about to dive in. Call it over a decades worth of practice, and the fact that it’s also nothing you hadn’t gloriously taken in all teenagehood long. 

Every time you could get it. 

Which was a lot because Tae was on the high school swim team. 

For four years. 

And then the university swim team.

For another four. 

Teenage you was a lucky bitch. Now you’re only blessed with this sight when he comes over to swim laps or attempt to drown Fourteen. Which, admittedly, was still often. But not nearly as much as back then. 

The sight in question however, is curled black hair that frames eyes so warm you swear the sun’s relocated to his irises, and a jawline that makes the Statue of David’s pathetic in comparison. It’s fingers that make your mouth water from the way they flip book pages and thighs that make you think thoughts and things you never thought you would. 

It’s the scribbled text: ‘To err is human; to forgive, divine’ tattooed across his ribs, and a lean torso, muscled but not outrageously so. Just enough to have you forcing yourself not to stare at the delicate lines of his abdomen every time he comes over for a swim. 

Thank god for sunglasses. 

“Nah, I’m sure PG can handle it, Dumbass. I’ve only been using your pool every summer for the last 15 years give or take,” Tae says with a quirked brow and a half smile directed at you. 

Behind your sunnies, you heat up a touch, and internally sigh. Have you mentioned his smile yet? 

Because oh yeah, his fucking smile. 

Tae’s a nickname kind of person, hence why even you call your brother ‘Fourteen’. Taehyung’s called him Fourteen for so long now that calling your brother by his birth name just feels wrong. 

This being said, PG is Tae’s nickname for you. 

It stands for the TV rating ‘Parental Guidance’ because you’re younger by enough that when you were still under the age of 18, they—see: your brother and Tae because they’ve been joined at the hip since they met—were usually assigned babysitting duty. Very much the ‘take your sister with you’ sibling, but they never complained. Not once.

As much as you and Fourteen bully one another, you’re actually quite close when you aren’t verbally sparring—which is where his annoying overprotectiveness comes in. Even when it comes to Taehyung. 

“Yeah, Dumbass,” you copy, earning a smirk from Tae as he leans down to take his shoes off. “It’s just Tae.”

“It’s not about that YN, it’s about respect. You’re my little sister, and Fuckass over here,” you brother jabs a thumb in Tae’s direction, which earns you a second hidden smirk from the Fuckass in question, “Still doesn’t know how to respect that fact even after a decade and a half apparently.”

You shrug as Fourteen finishes his point and narrows his eyes at his best friend. Tae gives him a shit eating grin that screams ‘what are you going to do about it’ and your brother gives him a two fingered salute before shaking his head and taking off his own shirt. 

You take that as your cue to put your head back down because you don’t need to see that. 

Currently in very comfortable linen shorts and tank, you’re sitting on a padded pool lounger, rereading The Great Gatsby for the hundredth time. It’s one of the classics that never gets old for you, has the benefit of being a shorter read—therefore perfect for the poolside—and happens to be the copy Tae’d gotten you for Christmas a couple years ago. Pure coincidence, you tell yourself. Nothing more. 

With the beautiful addition of your very darkly glassed sunnies, it also makes the perfect decoy as you watch Tae over the top of the open book without risk of being caught. 

You firmly follow the rule of a little looking can’t hurt. 

You aren’t delusional enough to think anything would ever happen between the two of you, not for a damn second. Be it the age difference, the fact that he’s your brother's friend, or the extremely high likelihood that he sees you as nothing more than Fourteen’s annoying little sister that he can use to rile said best friend up—see: current shirt stripping debacle. It’s not the first nor the last time he’ll do something like it, and you’re pretty sure you and Tae have an unspoken agreement at this point to push as many of Fourteen’s buttons as you can together, just to see how far he’ll let it go before freaking out.

But that’s about it. Nothing more. And reality is something you’re able to keep a solid grasp on when it comes to him. You don’t let it go for the sake of acting on a one sided and unrequited feeling you know will pass… eventually. 

Despite the flames that rage and roar on in your heart. 

Despite the green light on the dock across the way tackling your brother under the water. 

You hold on. And only in these little moments of in between do you allow yourself to look. Pockets of time where a peek won’t be seen or recorded, and a moment of self indulgence keeps your sanity from trying to escape its tightly locked box.

You look and look and look until the green light is covered in fog once more, and the lid of the box seals tight.  

Another day, another glorious abuse of best friend privileges, Taehyung thinks to himself as he continues his butterfly down the imaginary lanes in Fourteen’s pool. 

He tries to come over at least three times a week. Four or five if he’s able, the more he’s over the higher chance he has to see you, not just Fourteen. But he’s rarely able to these days. 

Though the wind appears to have shifted in his favour today. You’re sitting on the lounge chairs again, reading away in the afternoon sun. 

It’s his favourite view. And it’s sweetened by the fact that you’re in the shorts he loves and reading a book he gave you. Something he’s done since before he could remember, really. 

Christmases and birthdays, he’s always given you a book. Usually a classic, sometimes something else. If it caught his eye or reminded him of you, he’d grab it and save it until the next Christmas or the next birthday, whichever came first. And you’ve always loved them, so he’s never stopped. 

They’re gifts that seem harmless to Fourteen, and for the most part they are. But these last few have been…different. Had deeper thought put into them. The titles, the story lines, the prose. He swears you notice it, but maybe that’s just his own wishful thinking. 

And he sure as fuck can’t be doing any of that. 

This cold water isn’t doing its job well enough.

Finishing his set, Tae swims over to rest before starting on his front stroke. Forearms hold him up on the edge of the pool, his chin balancing on stacked knuckles while his breath catches. 

He also uses this little break as an excuse to talk to you. He only ever freely can when Fourteen isn’t around, and right now his best friend is inside grabbing drinks, towels and probably relieving himself–which, knowing Fourteen—could take anywhere from thirty seconds to thirty minutes. So he has to take advantage of every moment he gets. 

“Got any new recommendations for me PG?” 

Books are an easy starting point when it comes to you. Fourteen may be a graphic novel at best kind of guy, but your brain can’t seem to inhale enough books to satiate it. And just the thought makes his temples rush with heat. 

He should dunk his head again.

You lower your Fitzgerald by one inch and raise an eyebrow to counter it. Just like your brother, you’re always one to give him a hard time. Make him work for every millimeter of ground conquered. And he’s pretty sure you have a smirk hiding behind the pages, though he can’t be certain due to the sunglasses hiding your eyes. 

“Maybe,” you say. “What do I get in return?” 

Answering that question about fifty different ways in his head, Tae decides none can be said out loud. He seriously needs to fucking reel himself in. Fourteen could return at any moment and the last thing Tae needs to have is a problem between his legs because you never make it easy for him. 

But rather than listening to his very rational thoughts and very logical brain, he instead decides to say fuck it, and croons in the voice that used to fluster you as a teenager. 

“What do you want in return, PG?” Hoping to soften you up, even the playing field a bit. 

And it works like a charm. 

Your body releases its tension on an exhale, your page is marked, book set to the side, and your legs extend and stretch before crossing at the ankle. It makes him wonder if your little girlhood crush on him still exists somewhere in the back of your mind. Probably not.

Scratch that. 

Definitely not.  

“What if I wanted a new nickname?” you ask.

Both his eyebrows raise in surprise. “What’s wrong with PG?”

“It makes me feel like I’m eleven,” you explain. And then hit him with a dose of his own medicine as you croon, “I’m not eleven anymore, Tae.”

No you sure as hell are not. And it kills him in a way that has him wanting to die over and over again. 

He could consider it. But he doesn’t think he’ll change it, not when PG can stand for so many wonderful things. Things you would never think he’d let it when addressing you. Things that would have Fourteen trying for drowning attempt number two thousand four hundred sixty three, and succeeding. 

“I’ll think about it—Fair?”

You ponder before agreeing. “Fair.”

“Now about those recommendations…” He reminds you, and that’s all it takes to get you going.

Fourteen comes out about ten minutes later, but by then, Tae has a new list of books to grab from the store, two laps under him with eight more to go, and you’re reading again—one bare leg bent at the knee he’s trying very hard to ignore when he comes up for air. 

By the time he’s due for another breather, you’re talking to your brother about plans for the weekend. 

“I’m going out early on Friday for Rei’s birthday, remember? And I’ll probably crash at her place after,” you say. 

Fourteen is sitting on the second lounge chair across from you, most likely playing a game on his phone if Tae had to guess. But at your reminder, your brother looks up.

“Fuck that’s right. Okay so no dinner then, I’ll just grab something on my way in.”

“Sounds good. What about tonight?”

Fourteen gives it about two seconds of thought. “How about Don’s?”

Your face lights up at the suggestion. “Fuck yes! I’ve been craving their milkshakes for like a week. Hey Tae!” you call to him. “Don’s for dinner? There’s a chocolate shake with your name on it if you’re down.”

Tae pushes himself out of the water onto the pavement and doesn’t miss the sly once over you give him while Fourteen chucks a towel at his chest, covering your eyes with his other hand. 

He catches the projectile before it can knock him back into the pool, and uses it to dry his hair.

“Dude! Seriously? Go find a fucking shirt or something, no one wants to see that.”

You swat your sibling’s hand away and give him a look that screams ‘grow up’ while Tae drapes the towel over her shoulders, a hand gripping at each end. 

“I’m only down if Dumbass is paying,” he says, smirking at your brother. 

“—What—”

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” you agree, holding out your hand in his direction. 

“—Hey wait a seco—”

Tae grabs and shakes just to watch the steam flee Fourteen’s ears at the contact. He meets your eyes conspiratorially, and you both nod before rushing Fourteen. 

“—You fuckers!—” is all he gets out before Tae and you are grabbing an arm and a leg each and throwing Fourteen’s fully clothed ass in the pool. 

He curses the both of you out several times as he treads, drenched and dripping, up the stairs and out of the water. Tae throws him the towel. 

“You’ll pay for that, Asshole,” Fourteen tells Tae, and Tae grins. 

“Oh, I’m counting on it. Worth it though.”

“And you!” Fourteen says, eyes on you. “What the fuck dude? The betrayal to your darling, one and only brother hurts. I’m wounded,” he lays it on thick, walking up directly beside you. 

You're a hairsbreadth too late to realize when he shakes his hair out directly over top of you and you shriek, pulling your knees up, protecting the book under your shirt and behind your legs at all costs.

“Fourteen! The book! I will kill you if you damage it!”

Fourteen chuckles. “Payback’s a bitch Little Sister.”

You sneer at him, checking your prized possession for injury. Not a scratch. 

“And sopping wet is your colour, Jackass.”

“Big words for someone who can just as easily be thrown in the pool.”

You pause. Eyeing him directly. 

“You wouldn’t.”

“Wanna bet?”

Your brother looks at Tae with an evil plot in his eyes and you screech as they both nod once. You drop your book behind you as they yank you up by your arms and fling you into the pool, too much momentum from them and not enough resistance from you leaving you matching your darling, one and only brother.

As you come up for air, two colossal splashes ricochet from the left and right. Tae and Fourteen having both cannonballed in on either side of you. You choke on splattered water for a second before you’re attacking them with splashes, merciless in your pursuit for revenge. 

“You both suck!” you half giggle half yell. 

“Yet you love us anyway!” your brother falsely—correctly—claims. 

You roll your eyes before trudging out, heavier and dripping with your soaked clothes.

And it's not until weekend plans are cast aside for current memories, Taehyung treating you all to dinner, and you treating everyone to milkshakes, that all is forgiven. 

It turns out Rei’s dad knows the manager of the most exclusive club in the city—Youth—and managed to call in a favour. So now you, her, and your other bestie, Lea, are all on the dancefloor to celebrate her birthday. 

Rei’s first request for the night besides not paying for a single drink, was to dress up in the hottest, sluttiest outfits the club's dress code would allow for. 

This, for you, meant a black, square necked, low cut, and thin strapped satin slip dress that hugged you in all the right ways, matching heels adored with ankle strap bows and a sultry makeup look. Lea chose a dark blue shimmery number with a high leg split, vibrant graphic eyeliner, and wedges, while the birthday girl found the skimpiest forest green mini dress you’ve ever seen paired with heels that wrap ribbons up her legs, and a subtle dewy look on her lids. 

She’s glowing, and needless to say, they both look hot and so do you. 

Rei’s second request for the night was to dance until you either collapsed or threw up, whichever came first. A goal you were all making a steady descent towards as the night progressed. 

That is, until your blood runs cold at the sight of your cheating ex boyfriend making his way through the crowd in a direct beeline towards you. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. 

You’re alone right now. Rei and Lea are taking a bathroom break. 

You insisted you’d be fine for ten minutes. It was just ten minutes. What could possibly go wrong in ten minutes?

But apparently god just loves to play jokes because here you are, three shots in, not emotionally prepared enough to be near him, let alone speak to him, and by yourself in this huge crowd of strangers while he’s making very good time on his route to you. 

Fuck! You do not want to deal with him right now or—fucking ever, actually. 

He’d cheated on you four times that he admitted too throughout your two and a half year relationship, all while faking being blindingly happy directly to your face. He’d lied to you and hurt you and made you wonder what you did wrong for him to do that to you. It took all of your third year of university and more therapy sessions than you care to admit to realize you were never the problem, and that he was a piece of shit. 

So, with the fifteen feet between you two quickly shrinking, you try your best to hide from him in the crowd, only to run directly into him when you duck past a fellow club goer. 

Son of a b—

“Heyyy Y/N, how’ve you been?” he says like he didn’t destroy your entire sense of self worth for a couple quick fucks. 

You want to down three more shots just to be able to puke all over him. Intentionally, you haven’t seen him in years and just the reek of his stale ass cologne has you close. 

“Fuck off Micah, don’t you have somewhere you need to be sticking your dick—like a garbage disposal?” You snark, doing your damndest to not let him get close. But the throng of bodies surrounding you have other ideas and you’re thrown against your least favourite person in existence.

Delusional as ever, Micah sleezes, “Doesn’t seem like you want me to leave just yet, Kitten,” and you shove him off you as hard as you can while bile rises at the horrible name you used to beg him not to call you. 

You need to get off the dance floor.

Now.

Before you can, Micah grabs your arm and he pulls you back into him, hard.

Tae watches you out of the corner of his eye, wondering why in the hell you came to this club, of all the clubs out there. 

The club he was at. Wearing that and truly testing the limits of his self control.

Music blasts through speakers that move the ocean on the dancefloor. Bodies sway like waves, some crashing into one another with teeth and tongues and passion, others pushing with the current, grinding and gripping and grabbing at anything they can get their hands on. The louder and faster the notes whirl over their swells, the harsher the storm rages on, people flowing in and out of the eye when needed. 

He’s sitting at a booth on a dais high enough to watch you in the hurricane whilst being out of eyesight, notably with one or two faces he barely recognizes enough to most likely be your friends. 

They appear to be currents. They drag you into deeper waters and you let them, helpless to their siren call. Leading you to your place amongst the sea life, and reveling in the way the melodies wash over you again and again with every song that plays. 

His eyes follow you as you dance, curious if Fourteen knows you’re here before flinging the thought out of his head as quickly as it entered. You’re grown now, don’t need protection anymore. A lesson he learned the day you returned from university after graduating. 

No longer his best friend's kid sister who they kept an eye on, but a woman who was and still is growing into herself beautifully. A woman who is steadfast, strong and more often than not, correct in her opinions. A woman who is well read and equally if not more so well spoken when she deigns to acknowledge his existence. A woman who knows how and when to turn all of that off in order to team up with him in a roast battle for the books against her brother. 

He thinks of that day as the beginning of his downfall. 

He can humbly admit that his intelligence, demeanor and education are things that have been nurtured into existence by his parents and carefully maintained by himself with practice and both mental and physical exercise. He takes care of himself, inside and out. Exercises regularly, eats well, has good hygiene. He’s level headed and patient. Respectful and responsible. Controlled and competent. 

He prides himself on these things. Actively works towards keeping them maintained. 

And yet. 

Somehow when it comes to you, he is little more than a single brain celled idiot. 

All of the things he uses to measure his self worth evaporate whenever you enter his field of vision and he becomes fucking ravenous. And all of his focus goes into controlling himself.

He’d never noticed before, never thought of you in the way he does now. How when your currents break from formation and head towards the bathrooms, their outgoing force creates a riptide that some fuckhead with a stupid haircut uses to sweep in and dance with you. 

But you push him away. 

He doesn’t get the memo, and the mophead tries his best to yank you out to sea again.

Magma flows through Taehyung's veins, thunder cracks in his ears and all he can think about is storming through the crowd to steal you from said fuckhead by claiming you for himself.

But he won’t. 

Can’t.

All because of his darling best friend. 

Fourteen doesn’t know about his feelings for you of course. And Tae rather likes being alive and in one piece, two things he most definitely would not remain should he act on any of these feelings.

You are wholly off limits, forbidden. A little too young, a little too immediately related to his best friend, a little too perfectly his fucking type. It kills him every time he can’t even look at you without Fourteen going into what he calls ‘asshole mode’. 

So you remain in his very close periphery. Untouchable to the fingertips he aches to caress you with as you dangle your existence in front of him. Your wicked tongue, your delicious intelligence, your sexy fucking legs—fuck!

He has to stop thinking about you like this.

But that only makes him want you more. 

It’s like the gods handcrafted you for him. Every piece, every detail of you immaculate, but he committed one to many sins in his past life, and now they’ve locked you away forever as punishment. 

You float across the night sky, stuck in a golden cell. Its fourteen bars hold you hostage amongst the stars, all while he’s chained to the bottom of the ocean floor gasping for air. 

But fuck the gods and fuck their gilded cages. 

He’d break from his chains, swim to the surface of the sea and grow wings. Would break your prison apart with the sheer force of his wanting, then drag you down to the depths if it meant he got to keep you for himself. 

He would. He really, really fucking would. If his world wouldn’t implode completely if he did. 

So he keeps these thoughts to himself. Forces them down as they try their damndest to bubble over and burn him, because they will if he lets them. If any of them get outside these little moments, the ones where he allows himself to feel, he would burn and burn and burn until there was nothing left. 

Therefore, Taehyung has never been more grateful that his best friend was stuck on the night shift while he watched you dance and enjoy yourself, because it granted him this sliver of time to pretend like your brother doesn’t exist. 

That you are something he could let himself have, if you wanted him to.

And he’s solid in his decision to only observe, to stay inside his little moment, until fuckhead doesn’t get the message for the third time and Taehyung is out of his seat before he can think. 

Because Fourteen isn't here. 

And old habits die hard. 

“What the hell? Let me go, Micah!” You see his eyes then, red rimmed and glazed. He definitely has more than one thing in his system as his grip on you hardens further. The more you struggle, the tighter he grasps and—ouch, ouch, ouch, yank, fuck! Ow!—it’s really starting to hurt. 

“Just give me one more chance Kitten, I promise I’ll do better,” he whisper in your ear over the music, and you cringe back from how loud he is. But that doesn’t stop him from continuing, “I fucked up, I know I did. But that was years ago, and I learned my lesson. Just one more chance Kitten, just one more, and I—I promise. I promise it won’t happen again. It won’t. I really miss y–AH! What the fuck!?”

The hand on your arm releases the second Micah yelps in pain. You look down to see familiar ringed fingers around Micah’s wrist, clutching so hard they’re white knuckled and skin bruising. 

A broad chest comes to rest at your back, and an arm snakes around you. Its large palm rests on your stomach and hip as it pulls you tightly against its owner. 

Words covered in sharpest ice are spoken from behind you, their baritone so recognizable they have you melting back into him. 

Safe. 

You’re safe. 

Exhale.

“Do. Not. Touch. Her.” Taehyung growls so deeply, so powerfully, you feel the rumble from behind his sternum reverberate into your body. 

Micah’s focus shifts from his wrist to the man several inches taller and several years his senior still holding it. You watch as his face contorts from pained to confused and then to murderous. 

“The fuck are you to tell me not to touch my girlfriend?” Micah seethes, and you stiffen because no the fuck you are not, and haven’t been for several years. 

How blitzed out of his mind is he right now?

You don’t even get the chance to deny his words before Taehyung’s on Micah like fire to dried grass.

“Don’t make me laugh, Asshole. No way in hell an pig faced looking fucker like you could pull a woman like her. Now,” Tae roughly shoves Micah’s hand back to him, and it forces Micah to stumble into the people behind with the force. “Get the fuck away from My Girl before I make you My Problem. And trust me,” Tae says in a tone so dangerous, you’ve never heard him sound so terrifying in the fifteen plus years you’ve known him, “You don’t want me to make you my problem.”

And you realize, that this isn’t the Taehyung you’ve grown up with; seen through his awkward teen years and watched come into his adult life with. This isn’t jazz music and poetry Taehyung. 

This Taehyung has only ever come out the handful of times you’ve ever been in trouble. The one who studied Judo with Fourteen growing up, the one who has his fourth Dan. 

The one who does not play when it comes to you and your safety. 

It’s enough to know that Taehyung is more than pissed off, and more than a little ready to beat the absolute shit out of Micah, if the whiskey on his breath says anything about his loosened inhibitions. 

Micah seems to sense this too, and decides to back off. But not without a stupid macho expression and two middle fingers directed at both of you as he disappears into the crowd, and out of sight. 

You can feel the tension radiating off Taehyung in waves, a coil so tightly wound that a gentle breeze could set him loose, so you turn around and attempt to safely unwind. His hand moves from your stomach to your lower back, and you ignore the trail of wildfire it leaves in its wake because Tae’s eyes haven’t wavered from the spot where Micah just stood. 

“Don’t.” You say, loud enough for him to hear. And his flame filled irises snap to yours, burning. “He’s not worth it.”

Your words seem to bring him back somewhat because Tae sniggers. “Damn right he’s not,” then softens. “Are you okay?”

You look anywhere but at him, the reality of the last three minutes crashing down onto your head like broken glass while the both of you are still caught in the middle of the dancefloor. 

The people around you seem to understand something’s happened, and you’re left mostly untouched aside from the gentle nudges of inebriated party goers whose balance isn’t the best at the moment. 

Like the mellowed waves in the eye of a storm.

Taehyung seems to make sense of this at the same time you do, and lifts his free hand for you to take. Slipping your fingers into his, he leads you to an unused and out of the way emergency exit hallway somewhere in the back of the club. It’s completely empty and dark, undisturbed besides the occasional server passing by. 

It’s private. 

It’s safe. 

You’re safe.

You’re safe.

He lets go of your hand and looks at you again. “Now, are you okay?” 

The adrenaline is wearing off, and you can feel yourself start to shake. You ignore it. Sort of.

“I’m okay,” you say. But he’s eyeing you suspiciously and rightly so, so you repeat yourself, trying to convince your own brain more than his right now. 

“I’m okay, really! I’m good. I’m–” you exhale a shaky breath and he doesn’t ask before pulling you to his chest. Wrapping both his arms around you, one around your back while the other holds your head protectively to him. Your own go around his waist as you grip him back tighter.

“I’ve got you,” he says.

“I’m okay,” you say again, muffled into his black high necked shirt, taking deep breaths of his soothing, familiar scent. You do it and again, and again. Repeating the pretty lie to yourself again and again until it becomes the truth. 

He doesn’t let go until you do, and you don’t let go until you’ve finally stopped shaking.

You look up into his eyes, and all signs of his previous wrath are gone. It seems the hug didn’t ground just you, it grounded him too. Got him out of the headspace that would’ve been required for action first, words later. But now the sun is back, it shines down on you, and you bask in its warmth. 

“I’m good now. Thank you,” you say in an even and unwavering voice, because you are. The panic and immense relief having washed over you, and you’re once again simply, pleasantly buzzed. 

Though you do have a new problem in the form of the warmth pooling low from the feeling of both his hands still on your lower back. 

You’re trying to convince yourself it’s his way of keeping you safe.

But the lock on your box has the key inside it, and it’s just begging for you to turn it. 

“Good,” he replies, still not letting go. And it’s chipping away at your sanity. “Who was that guy? I only caught the last bit of his pathetic ramblings.”

You wince. Due to a lovely combination of not being very active on social media, not being much of a picture taker, and the newly dyed hair Micah seemed to be sporting tonight, you’re not surprised Tae didn’t recognize him. 

“Ah. Uhm…That was...Micah,” you admit, unable to meet his eyes again. That’s when you notice his outfit tonight is all black. 

Oh you are so fucked.

 “As in Micah, Micah?” Tae asks neutrally, familiar with what your ex had done, just not what he looked like. 

“...Yeah...”

“I see.”

“Yeah...” You say again. Because what else could you say?

Tae cracks a smile. “Should’ve let me kick his ass. The balls on him not only to approach you, but to call you his—” he cuts himself off, biting the inside of his cheek before continuing in a hushed, caring tone. “After everything he’s done to you, you should’ve let me, PG. Consequences be damned.”

Your cheeks flame at the nickname so close to your ears. So tenderly said. And you honestly can’t tell if you still hate it in this moment, or if it’s only adding kindling to the fire his hands are fueling at the base of your spine. 

The new name he’d called you earlier, its ignition point. 

My Girl.

My Girl.

You swear, even in your panicked state, you’d momentarily forgotten how to breathe before inhaling far too much all at once. 

Fuck, what you won’t give to hear him say it again. But you’re 98.9% sure that’s the three shots of vodka talking. Trying their best to turn the damn key. And maybe they succeed in turning it half way—hell, maybe all the way, because you look him back in the eyes and hear yourself say,

“Maybe I should’ve, but I was far too distracted by the new nickname you finally gave me to give a single fuck about anyone else.”

The moment the last word is out Taehyung stiffens beneath your touch, fingers locked on your back, and you’re very pretty sure you just fucked absolutely everything up. 

Years of good behaviour, of keeping yourself in check. Of pockets of time and side long glances and knowing nothing would ever happen, stolen from you. By your own big, fat, adrenaline depleted, vodka loosened mouth. 

You're a second away from damage control before his grip shifts from your lower back to your hips. 

Higher. Tighter. Controlling. Oh fuck.

He leans down to murmur, “Liked the new name, did you?” in your ear.

Shivers shoot from your crown to your core and down to your toes. Having his deep, deliciously inviting voice so fucking close to your pulse point has you millimeters away from drowning in it. You know he can feel it course through you, just like you can hear the smile it makes him display away from your eyesight as he does. 

“You did then,” he responds for you, a cat toying with its meal as he lifts his head once more to look into your eyes. 

You don’t need a mirror to know the state of your pupils. Your gaze is glazed over in the sinful kind of way.

“I did,” you needlessly confirm, looking up into similarly blown out ones.

The fingers twined behind him release, and make their way around to his abdomen. They pause to splay for just a second at the defined ridges, before slowly crawling up his chest and meeting again at the nape of his neck. 

They play with the soft hair there, gently scratching their nails at the skin beneath where it grows and you watch as your ministrations cause his eyes to roll back, flutter shut, and his head to meet the wall behind him. A barely audible moan escapes the confines of his lips before he swallows,  the divine bob of his adams apple as he tries to regain his composure is the dawn of your undoing. 

“Fuck, PG that isn’t fair,” he groans towards the ceiling, his hands on your waist clamping down harder, pulling you so close your bodies touch in more places they definitely shouldn’t be. The contact has you reeling and all you want is more, more, more of it. 

More of him.

“PG isn’t the name you called me earlier,” you hum, yanking on a single loose strand and Tae sucks in a steep breath, biting the corner of his smirking lip with a canine. 

You want to hear him say it again. Badly. So you release the sensual grip you have on his nape, and let his head lul slowly back down to where it was, his deepening amber wholly fixated on your now entirely onyx. Your heart is begging for release from your chest, and for a moment you wonder if he can see your pulse thrumming in your eyes, because you sure as hell can feel it.

“No, it’s not. But it also hasn’t meant to me what it means to you for quite some time now,” his voice like honey, thick and dripping its way over your body. It’s making you dizzy and weighty with want. It has your mouth opening slightly as he leans closer still, knocking his nose gently with your own. Inhaling in your exhales. Teasing you. Making you work for it. 

“And what does it mean to you?” you ask, barely above a whisper, irises never straying from his as your bottom lip brushes against his in one solitary, intoxicating moment that has you more buzzed in one touch than three shots has had you all night. 

“Pretty Girl,” he breathes onto your lips, pushing his thigh between your legs at the same time he pulls you impossibly closer. You hear yourself moan ‘fuck’ at the contact it gives your throbbing cunt. Too focused on the need coursing through you like a live wire—your body pure water—to think about what you’re saying.

It’s a sweet sound and a violent pleasure he devours as his lips finally, finally, finally crash into yours, pinning you in place and allowing him to take every piece of you he wants. One hand slithers up your naked spine to hold you, your backless dress doing you every favour imaginable as his other continues to help you grind over his thigh.

His tongue slips into your mouth and you suck on it, causing him to jerk into you once with the rapidly growing want pressing into your lower belly. But your hands hold firm at his neck as you pull him into you, a knee lifting to meet his hip. Needing more contact.

The electricity filled pathways his fingers leave down your back, over your ass and across the bottom of your thigh to support your search for pleasure do nothing but spur on the overwhelming need to touch him everywhere. 

No holds barred. No clothes worn. Nothing stopping you. 

He uses his new grip to spin you around and press his hips into yours as your shoulders meet the wall. You’re left to moan sickly sweet sounds of bliss into his ear as Taehyung frees your mouth in favour of your jaw and neck, sucking gentle purple hues down the column of your throat and onto your collarbone. 

“Pretty Girl,” he whispers between love bites, “My Pretty Girl.” Over and over and it has you melting so far into him, the only thing keeping you apart is fabric and a potential audience. Though from the colour you’re going to have to cover with far too much concealer tomorrow, you don’t think he quite cares about that last part. 

It drives you farther into insanity. Years of want and restraint and pretty white lies you told yourself are crashing down on one another and it shows in the fervor of your touch, your wants, your pleads.

“Fuck, Tae—please. Please, I need you— please,” you beg, and the bite he leaves at the junction where your neck meets your shoulder has you gasping for air that refuses to be consumed gently. 

But Taehyung is a man on a mission. One who will not be deterred, and you can’t tell if he will be your pinnacle or your inevitable end. 

With what is very clearly great effort, Tae pulls himself back from your decolletage, only to kiss your lips once more. Open mouthed and dirty, tongue clinging to you like the only thing he’s concerned about is swallowing down as much of you as he can while you’ll let him, and you’ve never felt more desired in your life.

He’s hoarse as he says, “Not here. Not for the first time. Not…not here.” 

“Then where,” you ask, near impatient and far too eager as you let your hands roam wherever they want. And you find your thumbs tracing the waistline of his pants, dipping a nails width below where they should. They trail over the indented V of muscle you know is hiding under his shirt. He shudders. 

It makes you smile wickedly. 

“Then where, Taehyung,” you murmur into his neck with that wicked smile in your words as you trace your nose along his jaw. 

“Fuck, you’re something,” he says, almost pained, bringing you immense delight. To know you affect him as much as he does you. That you have him as much as he has you. 

Sly hands slowly pull his shirt from his trousers in an attempt to urge him on. It works, and his response is quick. 

“My place. It’s a ten minu—fuck PG,” he almost scolds as your digits toy with the hair at his navel, dipping lower—enough to feel the beginnings of something—but not low enough to discern anything. 

Yet.

 “Can you behave for that long?” 

You smirk. 

Retracting your hands, you hold them up to show you can be good, do a quick once over to make sure you're decent and spin on your heel to walk towards your booth. Tae is behind you immediately, hand placed low on your back, thumb rubbing circles on the sliver of skin it touches. You ignore the goose bumps that arise.

Rei and Lea are at your table, thankfully. You explain to them you ran into Micah and that it really shook you, so Tae’s going to take you home. They know who Tae is, so they’re not worried when they give you goodbye hugs or when they tell you to text them when you're home safe. 

You promise you will, and hope that the rest of Rei’s birthday goes well. 

True to his word, it’s a ten minute rideshare before you’re pulling up to a tall, black windowed apartment building.

You’ve only been to Tae’s a handful of times with your brother, mostly for things like pick ups for concerts and such, but now that you’re here—alone with him—you’re trying hard not to jump him in the fucking lobby. 

The pulsing between your legs has only worsened since you removed your hands from his waistline, and you’re close to crawling out of your skin with need. 

His hand stays in its place at your lower back as the elevator climbs. 

It’s not helping and completely helping at the same time.

Fuck.

Tae lives on the sixteenth floor and the view is incredible. It’s the first thing you see past the island when you walk in the front door. There’s the kitchen to the left past the entrance, which turns into the living space that’s furnished in a way you can only describe as pure Tae. 

Books littering every surface, warm neutral toned furniture to counterbalance the colourful artwork he keeps on the walls. There’s an old record player with a collection of vinyls in the corner and what you assume is this morning's coffee mug on the art book filled coffee table.

To the right of the living space is the bedroom. It’s a studio apartment, but Tae’s managed to keep the flow of the place beautifully with some creatively put, gorgeously decorated room dividers. And the tall floor to ceiling windows wrap around it all, showcasing the lights of the city as they blend into the stars in the night sky. 

Mesmerizing. 

Just like the man locking his door behind you.

A kiss is placed on the back of your neck as you slide out of your shoes at the front door. You angle your head to allow more space, letting the arm that folds around you bring you closer to him. The feel of his arousal begins to grow behind you once more and you push back against him. A faint grunt meets the shell of your ear before his hand delicately slides up from your lower stomach and past your sternum. It teases your neck for just a moment before it meets your jaw to turn your lips towards his. 

He captures them in a brutal kiss, drinking you in for all you’re worth and then some as his other hand replaces the one that now holds your jaw in place. He pulls you into him but you spin in his hold, throwing your arms around his neck once more and dragging him towards the living space. He sheds his jacket in the process, uncaring of where it lands on his floor so long as you are still kissing him. 

You only stop when your ass meets the top of the couch and Taehyung palms the back of your thighs to lift you, your legs wrapping themselves around his hips as you sit on its edge. 

He growls at the contact and it has you raking your nails down his neck and over his shirt as you open for him once more, tongues clashing and teeth scraping at the desperate nature you both share. You yank his shirt up and he breaks from your embrace for only the amount of time it takes for the fabric to hit the floor before he’s back on you, adding twin bruises to the other side of your throat. 

You let the strings holding up your dress fall naturally to the side, revealing your chest to him, and a  low, “Fucking hell,” is murmured somewhere below your ear before a nipple is in his mouth and you’re arching into his touch, slices of need shooting straight downwards. Giving no mercy to your attempts to draw out the pleasure. 

One large hand cups a breast, molding it to his wanting before he switches and you’re groaning into the air above you, begging him for more, determined to have his tongue anywhere and everywhere you can get it. He lavs at your peaked bud, roaming over the sensitive flesh, making you squirm at the sensations he’s drawing from you. 

You never want it to end as he makes his way back up to your mouth, dragging his bottom lip over all of the freshly deepend skin it trails in its wake, making you hazy with the feel of him and his marks. 

His delicate touch wanders the insides of your thighs and your cunt aches for it the higher it climbs. But it slides up not down, reaching around to your ass and hoisting you onto his hips. 

Turning, he walks the eight paces to his bed, places a knee on the mattress for support before setting you down. His lips never leave yours he crawls over you, settling his hips over yours for mere moments, allowing you to thrust only twice before he’s removing himself completely and sinking to his knees. 

The fingers you’ve spent way too much time thinking about can’t get enough of your skin as they skate down your sides, taking the dress bunched at your hips with them. You raise your hips to help him get the scrap of fabric off, leaving a delicate, black lace thong the only thing keeping any of your remaining modesty intact.

You watch as his now fully blackened gaze takes you in, jaw dropped in slight at the sight of you with your legs opened on his bed. Like you were the prize he’s been waiting years to claim, and now that you're here and that you’re his his, he can’t quite believe it. 

It’s then you realize that he wants you, and has been wanting you. That your attempts to stay in reality these last couple years weren’t just harder for you, but for him as well. 

It hasn’t been one sided.

He wants you. 

Taehyung. 

Off limits, older brother’s best friend, swim club participating, jazz and poetry loving, judo knowing, book gifting, perfect smile having, protective, Taehyung. 

Wants you. 

You can physically feel the gush that rushes from your core at the thought and you know Tae can see it through the lace.

“Holy fuck…you’re fucking drenched and I haven’t even properly touched you yet,” he rasps, unbelieving. 

“Then touch me and find out just how much I want this,” you whisper. Begging, pleading, praying your words have their intended effect. “How much I want you, Taehyung.”

The sound that leaves his throat is a mixture of a whimper, a groan, and a guttural noise indicative of pure desperate want as he takes hold of your legs and spreads them further. Those mother fucking fingers trace from your ankles to your knees accompanied by the occasional light kiss, back up your inner thighs, and finally to the spot where you’ve been weeping for him for the better part of thirty minutes with a heaping side of ten years yearned. 

He places one open mouthed kiss on the top of your clothed clit and that simple touch has you arching, lightning crackling through your veins with the pleasure it brings. Tae slides one single finger down your covered slit before pushing it under and pulling it to the side. 

At the mere sight of you he’s swearing so fiercely under his breath that you involuntarily clench and he can’t fucking take it anymore.

His mouth is on you and you buck at the sensation. Yielding you no mercy, his tongue swipes from opening to clit in one long lick that has you gasping, clutching bed sheets above and below your head to keep from screaming. 

“Oh my—Fuck—Tae. Ohmygodohmy—” you’re rambling. Incoherent. A mess. 

He’s consuming your very being, no nerve left untouched, no reaction too minimal for his learning as he snakes his hands around your legs to haul you closer, pull you deeper into his mouth and you can’t fucking take it. You’re screaming out at the intensity he circles you with, and you can feel your impending orgasm come rushing to the surface. You’ve barely even processed it’s begun before you’re spasming so hard Tae has to remove an arm from your leg to throw around your pelvis. 

His devious fucking eyes meet yours for one earth shattering moment as he slips two fingers inside and begins a secondary merciless pursuit on your already overwhelmed senses. Using the pads to press upwards in time to the motions he never ceased with his tongue, a second wave is cresting before the first has ceased and you feel yourself clamping down, legs holding him in place as the intensity of your release climaxes. 

You’ve never felt a pressure so intense before, it’s like your body is a volcano and you’re erupting for the first time while someone sets off fireworks from its peak. The lava flows in waves, your hand holding his hair as you ride his face, shuddering at the vibrations his moan into your cunt leaves on the most sensitive parts of your body. 

Gentle strokes and licks calm as your pleasure begins to wane and you can breathe in more than just stuttered inhales again. 

“Holy fu–” you try to get out, but your voice is hoarse, like you’ve been screaming the entire time. 

And fuck, maybe you have been. You sure as hell can’t remember or think of anything more than the warm fuzzy feeling currently radiating from every single pore in your body. The damningly  deliciously dizzying feeling in your head not allowing for coherent thoughts to pass. Your limbs are loose, your body wholly relaxed. 

You’re…Well. You’re fucking perfect right now. If you could stay in this moment forever you would without second thought. Locked in this room with him for all time sounds like the best way to live out the rest of your days.

Until you wince as Tae blows warm breath on your core and he chuckles, then does it again. 

“Hey,” you say, sounding much clearer now, “Stop that and come here.”

You slip your hand down his face and grab him by the jaw, pulling him up and over you. Tae tastes like fire and whiskey and ambrosia and you as you kiss him with abandon, near feral as you take what you want from him and he revels in it. 

He’s on his elbows and a knee over you, and you use it to your full advantage to palm him over his pants and—Fuck he’s big. No wonder he was so thorough on you. This is going to hurt no matter how much prep either of you did.

He hisses at the contact and that only spurs you on, grasping firmly at his base and roving up and over the head with the heel of your palm, squeezing gently in time with his reactions.

“Christ PG, if you keep doing that I’m going to cum in my pants,” Tae laughs into your neck before rising to sit back on his heels. He gets as far as undoing his belt buckle and button before you take over, sitting up and pulling him out. 

He is disastrously beautiful, just like the rest of him, and your mouth waters at just the idea of him in your mouth. 

Licking your lips, you hear him curse quite colourfully as you take the tip into your mouth and swish your tongue over the head. Once. Twice. Thrice. 

Tae raises one hand to his eyes and the other behind him to hold him up as you take him deeper, shaking from restraining himself so hard, murmuring to himself, “Oh fuck. Fuck me, can’t believe—so fucking good, pretty—perfect—ohmygod,” and you seal the motherfucking deal by taking him into the back of your throat and looking up into his eyes at the same time. 

Taehyung barks and bucks once into your throat before removing himself and throwing you down onto the bed. He looks furious in the way that gets your heart racing, your cunt thrumming and your breathing so fast your chest feels like it might shatter from the crosscurrents. 

He grabs each of your hands and raises them above your head, sliding his fingers up your wrists and between your own, holding them in place on his pillow.

Leaning down, he uses his lowest timber to speak darkly into your ear, teasing your swollen clit with the tip of his cock. Sliding back and forth, sending bolts of white hot need through you. 

“You drive me fucking insane,” he starts, thrusting, teasing, torturing. And you moan at the contact. 

“You make me want to throw away a decades old friendship just for the chance to touch you.” 

Thrust, tease, jolt, whine. 

“And what’s worst of all is you’re the best thing I’ve ever tasted, the most beautiful I’ve ever seen, and you turn me into a complete idiot the second you enter the room. It’s like your fucking presence takes away all the working functions in my brain and leaves me with only the incurable fucking desire to make you cum until you can’t remember you own fucking name. Only mine.”

Thrust, squeeze, glide, jolt. “Tae...” you whine, delirious with pleasure, drunk on his greed and  delighted by his torture.

“I call you PG because it’s the only way I can get away with calling you anything more than your name around him.” He sounds almost angry with how low he growls. “And it means so much more than you could think.”

He leans further into you, so close now that his lips brush your ear as he speaks. 

“My Pretty Girl,” thrust, “My Precious Girl,” moan, “My Perfect Fucking Girl.” 

He releases one hand to line himself up with your entrance. “That’s who you are to me. That’s what I’m calling you when I call you PG. My Pretty, Precious, Perfect Girl. My Girl.” He slips past your walls, sinking deep and you both groan in euphoric unison. “Mine.”

Tae pulls out, slow and controlled. 

Blissful. 

Then pushes back in, methodically. 

Torturous. 

Feeling every inch you can take, which is every single fucking one.

Inevitable.

Bottoming out for the second time, you whisper, “Yours,” into his ear, and he turns fucking ravenous.

Setting an absolutely ruthless pace, he claims your body, taking what’s so clearly always been his. Your legs wrap around him again, digging a heel into his ass as you drive him closer, harder with every push. Then lay claim to the one thing you’re able to, taking his lips with yours and biting down hard enough to draw the most sinful groan from the back of his throat. Hoarse, deep, almost broken with how raw it is. 

One hand bruises its fingerprints into your hip while the other holds him up over you, and you use this to your advantage, slipping one leg around his and flipping the both of you over. 

You trail your tongue down his jaw to his clavicle, he tastes of sweat and lust and sex and it is the most intoxicating thing you’ve ever consumed. Creating your own gardens of little blooming flowers down one side of his neck and up the other, Taehyung moans greedily into your ear as your ride to match his thrusts, sending him deeper while you decorate your willing canvas. 

Because as much as he wishes to lay claim to your body, you want to claim his as well. 

“Mine,” you say, positioning yourself to take over completely, using the springs of the mattress to do most of the work for you. 

“Yes,” he says. But that’s not good enough. 

“Mine,” you demand, and let loose, pressing down on the mattress with your knees rapidly, creating the glorious effect you wanted. You watch as the up force from the mattress causes Taehyung to be driven into you so quickly he throws his head back, mouth dropped in pure ecstasy. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, YN, What the fuck—” he rambles, lost to the pleasure, biting his lip, going slackjawed, clenching and unclenching his fists into bedsheets that already have your handprints seared into them.

And you keep going, a little torture creation of your own. 

“Mine,” you demand again, and this time, it clicks.

“Yours! Fuck, yours. All yours, only yours,” he surrenders and you slow back down to a regular pace, breathless. 

It’s a great move but it’s exerting. 

You all but collapse on his chest and he takes over, thrillingly pissed off due to your power play. 

“So that’s how it’s going to be?” he asks, and you clench at his tone. 

He removes himself and you whimper, but he’s maneuvering you like a ragdoll on the bed and you’re more than fucking willing to be thrown around. 

He’s kneeling on the bed, lifting your hips and sliding into you in a doggy style, but then he’s doing the most insane thing you think you’ve ever seen. With an arm around your stomach he brings your back to his torso and twists you both to face the open floor to ceiling windows. One of your legs is thrown over his that’s up to splay you wide for the skyline to see, and you can see your reflection in the glass. 

You look beyond fucked out, and so does he, and it’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. But then his hand is sliding to your throat, and a whispered, “Is this okay?” finds your ears. You nod.

Gripping the sides of your throat, he slides his other hand to graze your clit before beginning his own version of the move you just pulled. Pumping into you at a pace that has your g-spot screaming from all of the attention it’s receiving, his fingers swiping deftly over the bundled nerves at the apex of your thigh whilst lightly cutting off the blood supply to your brain. 

It has you twitching and hazy and dizzy in seconds. You can see yourself losing to the feeling so steadily building at the base of your spine in the glass. Mouth open, body willing, the man who’s been at the center of your wanting for longer than you can remember, its deliverance. 

Dark, sex tousled hair, muscled forearms holding you up and driving you insane. Blackened eyes focused on you and only you through the mirror the darkness of the night’s sky has created for you. 

It’s that visual that sets you over the edge when he releases your throat, and you feel a gush flowing from where you two meet.

“Fuuuck yes. My Perfect Girl, cum all over my sheets, drench my cock. That’s it,” he purrs in your ear and it’s doing nothing but sending shock after shock into your already over sensitive and pulsing cunt, letting your consciousness float somewhere above or below you, you don’t really care. 

All you know is that you feel light as a feather and not of this earthly plane. 

Taehyung removes himself and lies you down gently. He’s back inside soon after and it just feels right as he fills you, like it’s where he’s meant to be. 

He hovers over you once more, and you lift a single knee to his hip, mimicking your position from the club as he thrusts into you with fervor, chasing his own high after delivering three mind shattering ones to you. 

Reaching one hand to his cheek, you hold him as he kisses you, working himself to completion. 

Using your other to deliver a few expert circles to your clit, so you can come together, you breathe in each other's release and  drown in once another’s embrace. 

You leave his name on your tongue this time. A gift. A cry so delicate that a tear falls from your cheek and he kisses it away.

Taehyung inhales sharply, before stuttering his exhale and an exquisite warmth fills you.

“F-f-uu-ckkk,” he shudders as he lets the aftershocks of his release claim you in the most basic and animalistic of ways. You drink in the vulnerable sound, taking his mouth with yours one final time as you bask in each other's pleasure. Silent but for catching breaths, exertion evident as you hold one another. 

Taehyung rests on your chest. Lines are sketched gently with your nails up and down his spine and into his hair as he comes down, content in the afterglow, where nothing is wrong and everything is perfect. 

Before consequences kick in and regrets form. 

When he decides he’s ready, Tae lifts and removes himself from you and you can feel the remnants of your combined efforts slide down to the bedsheets. 

Tae takes a single finger and gathers it up before pressing it back in. You hiss at the now tender flesh. Though the pain doesn’t stop the warmth newly pooling at the sight and feel and meaning. 

He pumps it back in once, twice before removing his finger and placing it in his mouth to clean off. Your cunt flutters at the sight and Tae smirks, leaning forward to share his findings with you in the form of a filthy, open mouthed, tongue filled kiss. It’s slightly salty, slightly metallic but you pull him back for one last lick when he tries to pull away. 

Watching him kneeling there, in the glow of moonlight, you realize just how truly beautiful he is. The shape of his illuminated profile, the expanse of his chest as he breathes in, the colour of his skin under silver rays. He’s stunning. 

You smile up at him, spent, sated and so astronomically fucked if your brother ever finds out. 

Tae must see the thought on your face, because he says, “Don’t worry about him. I’ll handle it.”

But you honestly don’t give a fuck about that right now. That’s a tomorrow issue. What you want to know is, “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what, exactly?” He specifies. 

You sit up, eye to eye as he sits on the edge of the bed, one leg on the ground. 

“All of it. Any of it.”

There. 

Now it was out in the open. And the rest is up to him. 

You could drag yourself back down to reality. Chalk this night up to booze and bad timing and perfect timing. Could convince yourself it was just one night and that it would have to be enou—

“All of it,” he interrupts, the most sincere expression you’ve ever seen on him on full display. “Definitely all of it. Every last fucking word.”

You slump on your exhale, so fucking relieved you didn’t have to keep trying to lie to yourself that you could forget this happened. 

You’re laughing before you can fight it off, shoulders shaking. Smiling so wide it hurts. 

“Uh..YN?” Tae asks, clearly not sure how to take your reaction and you compose yourself. 

“That’s PG to you,” you say as you crawl onto his lap, and kiss him into oblivion. 

It’s interesting to finally sit on the dock across the way in East Egg. 

The fog is gone, the sky is a brilliant blue, and the little box you kept sits open next to you, the lock and its key lost somewhere to the depths below your feet. Funny how harmless it seems now that there’s nothing locked inside anymore, like it could never really have hurt you in the first place. 

You take in your newly emptied creation, and quirk a brow when you see it move. 

A wiggle at first, before it’s shaking and spinning and shrinking, turning from a box into a glass windowed locket. Golden and delicate and beautiful, with a matching chain. You ponder for a moment what it could be for, before turning to look down at the green light to your right. 

An idea strikes. 

Unclasping the little window, you lift the opened pendant to the green light. And to your delight, the emerald hue hops into its new home, closing its tiny windowed door. 

You smile at the clever little light, lacing the chain around your neck, resting it on the middle of your sternum, right above your heart. Its brilliant hue shining brightly through the pane for all to see.

Funny how the green light you so longed for, longed for you back, and is now yours for keeps.

A/N 2.5: This is what has been rotting in my brain for the better half of two weeks so please enjoy, it was supposed to be short and trope filled to cure my writers block but apparently I am incapable of short. But trope filled it clearly is. Overall tho, I'm quite pleased with this one.

A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3

Masterlist

[redzie02]

Imagining San as a father

imagine,, i will never let go of girl dad! ateez, warnings: none?/ girldad! san/ fem reader/ mostly scenarios/ the child is referred to as "baby"/ comfort masterlist

It was kind of an unexpected pregnancy but anticipated nonetheless

San was lowkey more excited about it than you were.

Bought matching beanies for the three of you, mostly ones with cat ears.

Gets pouty when you cuddle your pregnancy pillow more than him

"Come here, you never cuddle me anymore," he mutters, trying to pull you closer.

You shrug him away. "No, you’re too warm."

He pouts. "I thought you liked my warmth..."

You never get the chance to complain about being uncomfortable or in pain because San is always absentmindedly massaging your shoulders, back, feet, or honestly any part of your body.

One afternoon, he finds you on the rocking chair, gently patting the baby's back while blinking hard, trying to stay awake. The last few days have been especially exhausting with the newborn.

He steps into the nursery and gingerly took the baby from your arms and into his, lightly rocking her. He whispers, "Did you shower yet, hon?" You shake your head whilst yawning. San nods towards the door. "C'mon, I'll help you. Let me just put her down first."

San helps you up, might even carry you to the bathroom if you're too tired. He starts a bath, setting the water to your favorite temperature, adding your favorite soaps and scents, and helps you undress. He scrubs your body and helps you dry off.

"Ah, I forgot to bring your pajamas."

You shake your head. "One of your shirts is fine." So he brings you the shirt he knows you love. He'll tuck you into bed and leaves a glass of water on the nightstand. It's still a bit too early so he stays up in case he's needed by the baby or you and cleans up the house a bit.

Has a habit of placing his finger under baby's chin and saying 'ah' when feeding her

Wooyoung is, of course, the godfather. Has no sense of what privacy is and will absolutely barge into your home to see the baby(he made several copies of your house keys).

The both of you are nervously getting ready for your first date since before the baby was born. It'll be your first time alone together in what felt like ages.

San is holding the phone to his ear with his shoulder when he asks Wooyoung, "What time are you getting here?"

"Oh, I'm in your living room right now." He hears a distant scream, followed by a smack, loud and clear through the phone speaker. "Hey! You hit me! Your wife hit me!"

San laughs. "Serves you right! That's the third time this week you've snuck in."

Once it's time to go, you almost have to drag him out the door.

He's anxious while on the date, constantly checking his phone while you reassure him that "Everything will be fine, the baby is in good hands. Woo practically acts like he was the one who carried her for nine months anyway."

"This is the longest we've been away from her."

"She's fine, look." You show him the footage from the baby monitor. "She's asleep and Wooyoung is right there like we told him to be."

San eventually gets over this anxiety and calls up Wooyoung for help whenever parenting and life get a bit stressful.

Of course, Woo will gladly babysit while San takes you out to your favorite places to eat(fancy clothing is optional, he just wants the both of you to finally relax and enjoy each other).

♡

San is a patient father. And can also be clingy, of course. Gets random urges to repeatedly kiss baby's face and tell her how much he loves her, even when she's trying to push him away.

Holds baby in his arms whenever possible.

Cries when he has to go back to work and rushes home as soon as the day is over. When he comes home, he gives you a quick kiss before immediately snatching baby out of your arms, giving her kisses all over her face and tiny knuckles. "Did you miss me? Oh, I missed you so much."

Reading aloud to baby while she laid on your chest is one of your favorite things to do. One night, San walks past the door only to stop, drawn by your soft voice. He pokes his head in the room and you notice, nodding at him to come in. He sits on the floor in front of you and massages your feet and legs as he listens to you read.

Teaches baby taekwondo and even convinced you to join, creating a new family activity :(

Will softly sing to her if she starts getting fussy. If it’s a song baby recognizes, she sings along until she eventually falls asleep. And of course, you secretly recorded all of that with the cheesiest smile on your face.

San loves planning family picnics. Wants baby to be around nature as much as possible. Dare I say.. he prohibits the use of too many electronics at home and wants baby to learn a skill and be physically active

San is very big on enforcing good manners and respect. Things like 'please' and 'thank you', proper greetings, helping others, etc.

"Ah-ah, what do we say? Good job, baby."

♡

Gets pouty when baby runs to you or Woo instead of him. But you’ll secretly whisper to baby, “Go hug papa and tell him you love him, go, go.” And she runs off giggling to San who’s hiding his face in his hands, fake sobbing. Her tiny hand pulls at his bigger ones and he'll trap her in his arms. "Ha ha, I got you now." :(((

Baby definitely gets scaredy cat tendencies from her father lol

The three of you were in the living room watching a movie when you heard something hit the ground near the kitchen. The movie was immediately paused. "Did you hear that? What was that?" San hurriedly asks.

"Nothing serious, you probably didn't place the broom back correctly in its holder." You stand up, ready to head to the kitchen when you felt San grab your wrist.

"Wait, what if it's a ghost?"

"A GHOST!?" Your daughter clings to your just as terrified husband, almost on the verge of tears.

You stroke baby's cheek with your thumb. "No baby, your father is just being dramatic...like always. Those muscles of his are useless. Do you wanna come with me to see?"

She nodded, apprehensive, and allowed you to carry her on your hip. Not wanting to be left alone, San trailed closely behind you, keeping his hands on your waist.

As soon as you walked into the kitchen, your foot met with the end of the broomstick. "Ha! See, I told you guys! Can you put the broom back, San?" Right as he bends down to pick up the broom, you run back into the living room, laughing at San's panicked babbling while clutching your daughter.

♡

Baby comes running in the bedroom wearing San's t-shirt(which she found while rummaging through the hamper for whatever reason), the fabric dragging behind her. The sleeves of his shirt covering baby's entire arm except the tippy tips of her fingers. She excitedly runs towards San but trips over the fabric, landing on her belly on the rug.

San gasps, but tries not to react too strongly so that baby doesn't freak out. Helps her up and asks if she's hurt, but she giggles and shakes her head. "Look!"

His heart melts at the sight of his daughter being engulfed in his shirt. She can hardly take a step without stumbling right into him.

When baby is sick, he’ll hold her in his arms for as long as she wants and is constantly rubbing her arms or back and asking if she’s okay or if she needs anything. 

Will have 'fancy' tea parties with his daughter, with you and a few stuffed plushies as guests. Proper attire must be worn (clip on earrings paired with a bow or crown). Allows baby to give him a makeover: painted his nails, spiked his hair with a ton of gel, makeup.

Will ask baby for opinion on his outfit.

"How do I look?"

"Old." She giggles. You're sitting beside her, covering your mouth, trying not to burst out laughing.

His jaw drops. "OLD!?" He looks to you for help, but you avert your eyes. "In what world do I look old?! You know, growing older is a privilege and one should be grateful for-"

"It was just a joke! Why do you have to turn everything into a lesson?"

"I'm never asking for your opinion again. Tsk, 'old'."

He acts like the comment didn't affect him much, but he pouts for the rest of the week.

a/n: next dad fic might be hongjoong..im a lil sleep deprived so i hope this isnt bad lol

[armpirate]

Temptation || Jungkook

pairing: JK x fem!reader || Brother's friend

w.c.: 5.2k

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, female masturbation, oral sex (male receiving), public sex, unprotected sex, teasing (Minors DNI! Refrain from reading if you're not +18, and ignore if you don't like this type of content)

Aprox. time of reading: 23 minutes

Summary: When Jungkook left, you were convinced your crush would go away with him. But seeing him after five years not only you discarded the possibility of ever moving on from him, you were determined on having him

MASTERLIST

The tension when you walked in was so big that Jungkook was barely able to pretend he didn't have his eye on you. When he left, you were a small girl with braces and one particular style to dress. It wasn't like he was much older than you, but the evidence in the phases you were in was evident while he hung out with your brother, and you just watched them from afar. You turned into one hell of a woman, with that little skirt and that half opened shirt tucked in it.

What did he miss, exactly?

You were excited when your brother announced Jungkook was coming back home after almost five years. He had gone abroad to finish his college degree, forcing you to leave him and your growing crush for him on the side for a while -hopeful that one day you'd get over it after meeting the right guy. With time, you managed to forget about him, except for the times Cameron mentioned him, with you just wondering how Jungkook was probably doing with life.

And you could see he was doing quite well. He turned from that slim cute boy you had a crush on, to a sexy tattooed man that would make your knees go weak if he made the simple attempt to speak to you.

Cameron had warned him when he was aware of the way he stared at you days back, when you first saw each other. Reminding him you were forbidden, and if he ever crossed the line with you he'd be dead. Jungkook thought it'd be easy to resist you, it had to be as simple as trying to keep some distance, having the same attitude he had towards you before he ever thought of leaving back to Korea for a few years.

But now you were in his place, walking in shyly with drenched clothes and wet hair, as you hugged yourself and got used to the warm environment his new house was. He mentioned where he lived in that dinner he had with Cameron and your parents, although he never thought it'd be as dangerous to have you showing up at his door with lost puppy eyes and a shaky voice.

"Sorry to be showing up so late" you whispered, apologizing again. "This was the nearest place to where my car stopped working, and I lost my phone…".

Jungkook simply shrugged, shaking his head before he made his way past you "It's alright. I wasn't doing anything, anyway".

He had to move in front of you to be able to feel some shame if he ever tried to look down at your exposed thighs, and imagined what you were hiding underneath that skirt. You were biting your lower lip, subtly trapping it under your teeth, when his eyes moved back up.

"Do you have a towel or something I could use to dry myself? I'm so wet right now" your voice had a tone he wasn't able to decipher, but that was certainly doing things to him, as you started taking off that black shirt, being covered only by that white tank top that allowed him to see much more than he could've dreamt off, gulping thick at the sight of the different lines that formed your bra.

Jungkook saw that as the best chance to escape, snapping his fingers at your idea "I'll bring you some clothes".

You took one look around, not moving from the spot in front of the coffee table because you didn't want to make a bigger mess all over the floor by the water that kept dripping from your pleated skirt.

While he looked for comfy clothes for you, he tried to think what would be the best way to deal with the little problem that was waiting for him in his living room. Because you were a problem. A big one, actually.

Jungkook sighed, stepping out of his room just to find you in the exact same place he left you. And when you gave him that innocent look as soon as you were aware of his presence, he knew he was in big trouble. He didn't know if it was all in his head, or if you were too good at pretending. but his mind kept glitching whenever he thought of a nice way to kick you out of there for his own sake.

As he handed you his clothes, so you could go to the bathroom to get changed, he didn't expect your skirt to be sliding down your thighs, followed by that white top. He scanned your body, admiring those tempting curves, and almost choking on his spit when he saw that long tattoo crossing your spine when you turned to pick all the wet clothes and hand it to him.

"Never seen a woman in your life?" you teased, putting on those baggy gray sweatpants and an oversized black t-shirt. "It's no different from a bikini".

He wanted to clap back, telling you that indeed it was quite different from a bikini, especially when it came to his best friend's little sister, but he bit his tongue, conscious that he'd end up entering a game he wasn't sure he'd win".

"I'll put these in the dryer" Jungkook simply announced, escaping again and hiding behind four different walls so he wouldn't be poisoned by the same air you were breathing.

"How was it in Korea?" you asked, freely walking around his living room.

"It was good" Jungkook answered. "It was nice to go back to my roots and see some of my family and friends".

You remembered the first time Cameron took him home in sixth grade, cheering how he made a new friend and announcing to everyone in the house how he was new in the city because he came from a different country. Since then, they were inseparable, making his visits more frequent with each passing day, making him someone that was almost part of your family , while Cameron was almost part of his, after just a few months into the friendship.

"You missed me?" you asked, tilting your head when he was back in front of you.

"I missed everyone, of course" Jungkook nodded.

You simply smiled at that answer, aware of how he was trying to treat you as everyone else, shifting your gaze from him as you made your way to his couch. Jungkook had picked the clothes that would look bigger on you, in a desperate attempt to make you less tempting than you were, but it was useless when your aura spoke louder than your looks or words.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing" you giggled.

"You did miss me?" he wanted to know, stepping towards you.

"Of course".

"Of course?" he repeated, sitting next to you on the couch.

"Of course" you nodded, "I was so used to seeing you, and suddenly you were gone" Jungkook's eyes were looking at you attentively, hypnotized by the way your lips moved as you spoke. "You also promised me a kiss, and you were gone before you could carry out that promise".

He scoffed at the mention of that. He thought you'd have forgotten about that after so long, he actually did until you mentioned it. Jungkook always thought you were just playing when you first told him that, with that nervous pout on your lips, before he played along and told you he'd be your first kiss if you didn't find anyone special when you turned twenty.

"I bet you've already kissed some guys that could make up for that".

And for a second, Jungkook thought life was so cruel, because how was it that he wasn't the first one to kiss those soft and tender lips, that would be able to take him to heaven?

"They still weren't you though" your lips pursed with that answer, as you leaned closer to him.

"Y/n…" he warned you, barely moving back. "Your brother will kill me if he ever knows".

"That's the thing: he won't know" you replied, leaning over again. "It'll be just one kiss" your eyes moved down to his lips just when he moved his tongue over them to wet them ", one tiny little kiss" you assured him, speaking lower.

You dreamt of this many times when you were younger, yet it still went above your expectations when you sucked on his plumped lower lip softly. He tasted spicy, with a mix of beer, but so addictive you were sure you could go on for hours stuck to him. Jungkook moved his lips on yours shyly at first, barely sucking on your upper lip as you focused on the bottom. After faking to move away, you felt pride flooding your chest when his fingers hooked on the side of your neck, keeping you in place to kiss you deeper.

He was trapped in your charms, Jungkook just wanted more of you when that little friction gave goosebumps all over his body. Your tongue felt warm when you licked on his lip rings, slowly sliding it through his lips to meet his. His hands automatically moved to your waist, pulling you closer to his body, while you just made a mess on his hair, gripping and playing with his locks while his head just went in circles in flow with the intensity of your kiss.

"You kiss so good" he praised you, in between kisses, "So fucking good you're making me lose my mind".

Jungkook pulled from your lower lip with his teeth, making you giggle to hide the fact that every bit of skin in your body was burning for him. Half of his body was caging you between him and the couch, as he had you resting your back against the backrest to dig deeper in your mouth.

Suddenly he moved back, looking at you as if he were finally conscious of what he was about to do, with a shaky breath that only gave away the state you put him in with barely any effort.

"This can't happen again" he shook his head.

"Why? Because of my brother?" you scoffed, joking about it until you were of the concerned look he was dedicating you.

"You're also like a little sister to me. This isn't okay, and I don't want you to get the wrong idea".

His words hurt more than they should have, feeling like all the steps you had advanced were only a vision. You simply nodded, trying hard to keep that knot in your throat as it was, just to avoid showing off how much it hurted you being hit by reality.

"I'll prepare a room so you can sleep there tonight. I'll take a look at your car tomorrow morning, and drive you home" he informed you.

Neither of you knew those would be the last words that would be exchanged between you that night, making the environment somehow heavier than when all that sexual tension was floating between you two.

You barely spoke the next morning either, only exchanging some random words whenever he mentioned he'd drop you off at your place. You didn't expect him to mention anything about what happened last night, but trying to act like it actually didn't happen disappointed you. It genuinely made you believe it all was a mistake for him, and his responses to your kiss were automatic until he got out of that blinding cloud and met with reality.

As you made your way to your car, he heard you insisting on how you'd be fine by yourself, and how you'd get somebody else to help you, but he wouldn't leave you dealing with all of that by yourself when he could be of help. Jungkook slid the key inside the contact, thinking it'd be a waste of time until he felt the engine getting started and the whole car roaring in response. He also managed to see your phone strategically hidden behind the gear level, so it wouldn't be seen from outside.

Realization hit him, remembering how you got to his place through the rain, for no other reason than just seeing him. Because you knew exactly what you were doing and what you wanted from him.

"So you lost your phone…" he mumbled, raising his eyebrow before he looked at you.

"I couldn't find it last night… My bad".

"And the car also happened to magically start working the morning after?" Jungkook didn't know where he wanted to get to with all of those accusations,

"Miracles happen" you simply shrugged.

"Y/n, this is not a game".

"No, it's not" you crossed your arms over your chest. "You made it clear yesterday".

When you looked at him again, Jungkook was able to read through some of the disappointment you allowed to communicate through your eyes.

"You already saw everything's okay, so you can go" you tried to tell him, but you should've known Jungkook was the biggest stubborn person you had ever known, even bigger than your brother.

"I'll drive you home" he mentioned, determined to drive your car.

"No, get out of my car" you replied almost instantly, with no strength to argue with him.

"Y/n…"

"Jungkook, get out of my car" you repeated slowly, emphasizing on each word. "Surprising or not, the little girl can drive".

"Fine" he sighed, stepping out and closing the door while you moved from one place to the other. "Can you let me know when you get home?".

"Ask Cameron if you want to know".

You didn't exchange any other words with him, closing the door as you forced him to move aside before you drove away from there.

Going to your place was even harder after that night. Every time he saw you, he automatically remembered the way your lips tasted, feeling the peach flavor of your gloss on his tongue every single time. But what made it harder was the indifference that came from you whenever you saw him, cordial enough not to be rude in front of your brother, but distant enough to let Jungkook know that that mistake wouldn't happen again.

And you carried on with that promise.

One of the nights he stayed at your place, because the game night with Cameron finished way too late, he was unlucky enough to see you. He had left your brother's room to get a glass of water, when the subtle click of the main door caught his attention and made him step outside of the kitchen.

You weren't surprised when he came out of the room. The fact that the lights were turned on, being the only thing lighting part of the living room, gave away that there clearly was someone inside, you just didn't expect that it would be Jungkook.

That red dress you were wearing, revealing a bit of your cleavage, and a good amount of your back, seemed like was worn on purpose to torture him, as if you knew he'd end up spending the night there and casually find you as you sneaked to your room.

"A bit late, don't you think?" he teased you, giving a sip to his glass.

You scoffed, slowly making your way to him "As if that were any of your business".

You tried to make your way past him, but his hand enclosed around your wrist before you were able to. Jungkook dragged you inside the kitchen, carefully making you rest your back against the cold tires on the wall. After leaving the glass over the counter, and still keeping you in place with a hand on your waist, you felt his fingers making your skin tickle as he advanced through your collarbone, moving your hair back just to be able to see that purple mark on your neck.

"Someone had fun" he whispered.

"Well, clearly my hair isn't a mess because of the wind" you replied back, trying to move away from him.

His heart sank to his stomach at the image of you being pleased by someone else, being more twisted in his head as he imagined you looking straight at him as some guy without a face pounded into you the way he had been thinking of doing ever since you showed up at his place.

"Can you let me go now? I don't want my parents to see me like this" you asked.

But Jungkook stayed there, still, moving his thumb from the mark on your neck up to your chin, stopping at the line of your lower lip. His eyes were filled with all the filthy thoughts going through his head at that moment, and all the several ways he wanted to let you know it didn't matter how hard you tried to get him out of your head, you would not succeed with that. You trapped him, and he wouldn't let you get away with it so easily.

"What? Are you going to fuck me to have me back at running after you?" you challenged.

"You think that fucking someone else will make you stop to?" Jungkook asked back, tilting his head.

"So ignoring you for a few days, and seeing other guys is what took you to forget your morals" you hummed, nodding as your arms wrapped around his shoulders. "Talk to me tomorrow morning when you don't feel heated up at the thought of me fucking someone else" you managed to move between his body and the wall.

Jungkook was almost going to run behind you, until Cameron's steps and sleepy voice were heard making their way to the kitchen "We're not done" he guaranteed.

"Up to you, you know that" you simply shrugged. "Good night, unibrow" you smiled, walking past your brother as you started your way to your bedroom.

"What were you talking about?" Cameron asked, confused.

Jungkook shook his head, giving one last gulp to his glass of water "Nothing. She just arrived now, and didn't want your parents to know".

"This girl" Cameron rolled his eyes "One day he'll give them both a heart attack".

Jungkook stopped the car in front of your gym, waiting for you while his hand rested over the wheel. Your parents and his parents had planned a dinner at one of the restaurants you frequented the most out of the city, for no particular reason -at least that you knew off. It was something quite usual before Jungkook left -and it actually kept happening after he was in Korea. You all reunited whenever there was a big event, like when Cameron graduated college, or when you managed to get the higher grade in one of your projects during the second year of your degree. The first plan was that Cameron would pick you up at the gym, and you two would go together to the restaurant. But after being called last minute into his office, he asked Jungkook to give you that ride instead.

It wasn't like neither of you would complain about that.

Or maybe Jungkook would. Gulping thick when he was aware of the way the skirt of your dress danced over your thighs with every step you took. And it wasn't any better when you hopped inside the car, with your dress raising a little bit further than the middle of your thighs as you sat down next to him.

"That smartass" you mumbled, buckling your seatbelt. "He probably is stuck in one of those dumb videogames, and won't leave the house until he makes it".

He snorted at your comment, knowing Cameron well enough to think that you were probably right "Isn't it better for you though? I picked you up instead".

Your eyes squinted, turning to him when you heard that comment from him. Not like you were complaining, but after he tried to dodge you the past few weeks, it just felt off.

"How was the gym?" he asked out of nowhere.

"Awful, it was leg day. I thought I'd die there" you commented, throwing your head back.

Jungkook smirked, thinking that no one would've been able to tell she was feeling sore by the way she strutted to his car.

"I know that feeling" he finally nodded.

He was a lover of pushing his body to the limit on every training he did, so he found it easy to sympathize with your pain, scoffing at your expression.

"Maybe a little massage later would make you feel better" he mentioned, glancing quickly at you.

You scoffed, looking through the window "Are you offering to give me a massage?" Jungkook didn't answer, he just giggled at your question, causing his eyes to squint in consequence. "What's up with you?" you questioned, looking at him.

"I was just messing around" he said.

Your tongue clicked at that answer. Disappointed when he reduced it all to a playful answer, when he knew it was way deeper than that.

Jungkook had tried to ignore it, but the grip you had on him ever since you kissed that first time on his couch was something he wasn't ready for. He was already attracted to you when he first saw you after coming back, but he didn't expect you to move so sneakily to him until you made sure he was on that same stage you were in. Jungkook went from barely being aware of your presence to thinking about you all the time, even if he was doing something that had nothing to do with you.

"So, about the conversation we had in the kitchen a few weeks ago…" you started.

"I shouldn't have done that" he shook his head. "I don't know why I did that, but you were right. It's none of my business".

You were tired of the same answer over and over again, repeating it like a broken record that had no other explanation to his actions than that same old excuse.

"So you weren't jealous?" you raised your feet to the dashboard in front of you. "And you don't want me?".

"We already had this conversation" Jungkook rolled his eyes, tightening his grip over the wheel when the skirt of your dress lowered even more. "I can't see you as much more than Cameron's sister".

"Hmm" you hummed, nodding slowly.

For one second, Jungkook thought that you'd finally move on from it, and help him get over you in the process. The more you insisted, the more tempted he felt to betray his friend and give in to your enchant.

"You'll be made out of steel whatever happens? You won't give in?" you asked, intense eyes looking at him while he just made everything in his hand to avoid looking at you.

Jungkook knew those words meant no good, but he didn't know they'd be followed by an action right after. Through the corner of his eyes, he saw you sneaking your hands under your skirt, and almost choked on his own spit when you slid your panties down your legs.

"We'll get in trouble" he warned you, but he was also warning himself.

But the only thing you noticed in that sentence was the fact that he didn't throw a negative response, but a warning of the consequences to your actions, and that made your core palpitate with hope.

For one second, the spontaneous fantasy of you touching yourself next to him was closer to turn into a reality. But you took him by surprise when you took his right hand instead, moving the tip of your fingers over his tattooed knuckles, giving him shiverings at the simple and soft touch.

Jungkook moved nervously on his seat when his fingerprints met with warmth of your pussy, feeling slick when you moved his fingers down your slit. "See how wet you make me?" The veins on his left arm were more marked as he tightened his grip on the wheel, feeling your tight walls hugging two of his fingers so perfectly he thought he'd faint at the idea of how his cock would feel in the place. He still allowed you to go on, controlling the moves of his fingers to finger fuck yourself so slowly he felt frustrated.

A surprised moan escaped your lips when his fingers suddenly curved, still not moving his hand, but helping you rub against that spongy area that had you spreading your legs a bit more.

"Shit, Y/n, you're so tight" he groaned. "How are you even going to take my cock?".

"I can deal with everything I propose".

Jungkook just wanted to wash that confidence away, finally moving his fingers up and down, stroking your insides just like you were asking for, as he rubbed his palm against your clit with every move. In a matter of seconds, he had you whimpering, gripping on the sleeve of his shirt and arching your back as if it were going to dismantle.

His bulge was fighting against the zip, begging to find its way out with every clench of your pussy around his fingers. And you were aware, palming him over the black jeans and unbuckling his belt and moving down the zip. You fought with your own belt, ending up unbuckling it just to lend over his lap. Jungkook, forced to take his fingers out of you at the change of position, rubbed the flesh of your ass, alternating his eyes from the road to the way your hands worked on his boxers to set him free.

"Suck my cock, princess" he hissed, involuntarily moving his hips up.

His fingers dented on your skin when you took him in almost entirely with no previous warning, enclosing your lips around his length before you pulled him out. He tasted exactly like you imagined, a bit salty, yet with the freshness of his soap. You felt so warm, sucking onto him like you were made for it, almost having him cursing at himself for ever rejecting you in the first place. His hips moved up against your mouth whenever he felt you moved back, not wanting to let go of you ever again, even if your hand was still holding his base and your lips were closed tight around his tip.

Not only were you good at driving him insane, you were also one hell of a tease. Every few seconds, you'd just poke the tip against your cheek, taking it out to give it a few kitten licks before you were back bombing your head up and down.

"Do you like what you caused?" he asked, squeezing your ass cheek.

You felt the engine roaring after his moan, sensing the car going a little bit faster, while he tried to focus on the road, managing to see through his half closed eyelids. It was such a hot vision for you, the way you were taking that man near the edge after so many years waiting for him. It was better than your wettest fantasies.

He smirked down at you, moving your head aside, when some sound interrupted the music that was playing on his radio. Noticing the picture of his friend popping up on the screen, he motioned you to keep it as quiet as possible before he answered the call.

"Where are you?" you heard the voice of your brother through the speakers.

"We're on our way there, but we're stuck in traffic" looking down at you, he gave you a sided smile. "We might be a little late".

Answering to that smile that hinted at everything but good things, you lowered your head back again, taking his cock inch by inch slowly, stopping right before it reached your throat so you wouldn't gag.

"Is Y/n with you?" you exchanged looks, although you weren't able to hold it for long because your eyes went blank as soon as his fingers slid inside you again.

"She fell asleep. She was too tired after the training. But yeah, I'm taking good care of her. Don't worry".

His fingers kept digging in your wet hole, making it almost impossible for you to hold back the moans that you were dying to let out and that ended up being drowned by his cock as soon as he hung up the call.

"Who would've thought? You sounded like a good boy" you teased him.

"I am, you just corrupt me" he replied back.

You didn't think it would last until you reached the parking lot of the restaurant, but the motion of the car parking made you raise your head from his lap. You cleaned the drool that dripped from your lips, feeling frustrated when you thought that meant you'd end up hanging over the edge -although that wasn't on Jungkook's plans.

Before you were able to say a word, he cupped your cheeks, pulling you for a wild kiss that had you almost losing balance -even if you were sitting. You were surprised when your seat suddenly moved back, followed by the backrest being slightly bent over.

Jungkook parked the car far enough from the entrance so you wouldn't be spotted, in case any of your parents or Cameron decided to step outside to wait for you. After everything that happened that evening, he wouldn't be able to behave properly on the dinner if he didn't fuck you first.

His knees were placed almost at the edge of your seat, as he folded your body like you were made of paper, moving your legs up until your ankles were hanging on his shoulders. Your hips moved up at the slight rub of his tip against your swollen clit, eager to feel more of him.

"I'll fuck you, don't look at me like that" he giggled, feeling a bit endeared by the way your eyes shined with needyness.

Your expression changed fast. Your playful smile slowly disappeared, as your frown furrowed when he moved his hips forward, stretching you out inch by inch until he was completely inside. Both of you sighed in relief when you were finally connected, with your gazes meeting up -Jungkook's to ask for your permission to move, and yours to give him the green light.

Jungkook wasn't rough or careless, and he also wasn't as shy and slow as you ever thought he'd be. He was impactful. He moved in a way that made your toes curl in your sneakers everytime your pelvis met, finding the right angle after just a few thrusts. He wasn't harsh or timid, he was well mastered. He knew how to fuck you right to have you whimpering low, fighting to control your tone, but also desperate to reach your orgasm.

"Did that other guy fuck you this good?" he groaned. "Princess, no one in your life will ever fuck you like this. You're mine now". His words send an electric shock straight to your core, clenching tight around him when those words left his mouth.

He leaned a bit more, keeping the pace of his movements, just to be closer to your face, making it even more difficult to handle when his eyes trapped yours and you weren't able to escape them. You felt so vulnerable and exposed all of a sudden, it was the last thing you needed to release yourself.

Jungkook knew he wouldn't be able to move on from you after the way you gripped so tight around him, milking him through his orgasm. His dick twitched and throbbed deep inside you, spilling his seed as you took every single drop of his.

You both just giggled, looking at each other, unable to hold back how bad you wanted to kiss after everything you had done in that car in less than thirty minutes.

After cleaning yourselves up and the car, you both made sure you didn't look like you had just fucked in the car on your way there, stopping midway to fix his bangs or some of the wrinkles that formed on your skirt after being folded that way.

"Don't think I'm done with you though" he whispered, squeezing the side of your waist before you entered the restaurant to meet everyone.

Taglist: @ttanniett

[alchemistc]

Gonna be pissed as hell if Tim throws out a plotline to replace it with a three episode arc about LA on fire (what will Brad do when his house burns down?), which makes me a hypocrite and a half because here's some ripped-from-the-headlines bullshit.

Tommy's duffle lands on the bottom stair with a thump.

He glances around the space like he's seeing it for the first time - or maybe like he's just taking in the gravity of the situation. There's a quirk of his lip, an ironic shake of his head, and Buck can't quite stop himself from imagining the thought running through his mind. Despite his intentions, he'd landed here anyway.

They're both bone tired. Exhaustion seeping into their marrow, the kind of tired Buck hasn't felt like this since Texas, maybe. He wants a shower and about 48 hours of sleep.

"I'll take the couch," Tommy says, voice raspy, eyes refusing to draw towards Buck.

And the thing is.

The thing is Tommy definitely had other places to go. Other friends who would have put him up as long as he needed, people he trusted, people who cared about him. But it was Buck he'd found as things wound down, the both of them covered in soot and ash, Tommy dropping to sit beside him on the curb as they waited for relief teams to finish up at the command tent.

They'd stared at the burnt out husk of Tommy's home just long enough for the tiredness to really settle in.

"You're not taking the couch," Buck says, and flips the light switch in the downstairs bathroom. Tommy's shower gel is still under the sink, his fancy curl conditioner down to the last few dollops because he'd spent enough nights here to go through most of a bottle. They've already showered at their respective stations, but Buck knows from experience how much Tommy hates the Harbor showers ("You'd think a fire station would have better water pressure, but I'm telling you, Evan, it's about as strong as an eighty-year-old's dribbling piss.") and Buck knows he still feels like he's caked in days of grime.

"Evan," Tommy starts, and Buck can't read into that, refuses despite the way it knocks around in his chest.

"You need the rest just as much as I do," Buck argues, and Tommy's shoulders just... slump. He sighs. Nods his head. Shifts on his feet and accidentally catches Buck's eye.

The contact holds just long enough for Buck to see the tears swimming in Tommy's eyes, and he can't imagine -

It strikes Buck for maybe the first time how dumb he'd been to ask Tommy to move in here. Tommy had a life, a home, a place he'd spent a decade making his own.

He'd made a joke once about a firefighter living so close to the hills, the first time he'd had Buck over, that ironic lilt to his voice while he talked about replacing all the east facing windows the first time he experienced the Santa Ana's after moving in, and Buck had spent a good ten minutes watching the light fade from his backyard, dusk casting the hydrangea bushes in a rose-gold hue.

"If I hug you are you gonna make a break for it?" Buck asks, regretting the spiteful tone when Tommy curls further in on himself, but he ducks his head even as he's shaking it, and Buck doesn't fight the urge any longer, three long strides before Tommy's curling fists around Buck's waist and pressing his nose into the skin of Buck's neck.

("It's just stuff," he'd said, knee knocking against Buck's where they huddled together on the curb across the street, Tommy uncharacteristically fidgety as they both stared straight ahead.

"Come stay with me," Buck had responded, and felt Tommy tense so quickly he'd sort of expected him to bolt to his feet and leave.

Instead, the stillness eased out of Tommy's body all at once on an exhale, and he'd nodded out of the corner of Buck's eye. "Okay."

He hadn't quite been able to stop himself from reaching out to squeeze Tommy's knee. "Okay.")

Tommy's never been one to take more than his fair share. He breaks the hug before Buck can really get into it, sniffs once like Buck didn't notice the wetness against his neck, shifts backwards and sideways. He stops halfway through the doorframe when he catches sight of the canvas bag on the counter.

Buck just hopes Maddie actually bought the specific list Buck had sent her three hours ago. Tommy's particular about his stuff, and he'd pressed the point with his sister despite the eyebrow raise he could see in every text back she sent him. He can see Tommy doing the math - only so many people with a key to the loft, only so many people who weren't there in Tommy's neighborhood for a stretch of exhausting hours that hadn't amounted to much other than saving that purple house down on the end of the street that Tommy was always bemoaning for having a better garden than him.

"Tell Maddie thank you," Tommy says, still with that rasp to his voice that under any other circumstance would have Buck vibrating in place. When he digs through it, Buck catalogues his findings - that weird organic toothpaste Tommy swore by, the cheap electric toothbrush he refused to switch out for the better one Buck had a subscription to; a pack of briefs and socks in Tommy's preferred brand.

It's not the first time Buck has wished there wasn't a canyon between them, but he strikes the urge to quip, to smile, to reach out and try to comfort him.

His phone buzzes in his pocket and he digs it free, glances at the readout and immediately feels the ire rise in his throat again. It's from Eddie, a private response to the group message he'd sent out letting everyone know Tommy had a place to stay.

Is that a good idea?

And Buck gets the point. Understands that Eddie has his best interests in mind, but he's not here, hasn't been here, hadn't been there when they rolled down the street to find three houses already fighting the blaze.

Buck can't hold in the annoyed snort, and when he glances up it's to find Tommy's eyes on him.

"I'm gonna go shower," Buck tells him, and manages three whole steps before Tommy's hand curls around his wrist.

He doesn't seem to have the words to ask, but Buck reaches back to strip his shirt over his head anyway and shuffles them both towards the shower.

It's the least sexy thing they've ever done together, if he's being honest. Buck hasn't felt this tired in years, hasn't felt this grim in years, barely has the energy to do more than scrub at Tommy's back while he rinses his hair. Perfunctory, is a term for it, except for the way Tommy leans into the press of his fingers when he suds up Tommy's hair, except for the way Buck drops his forehead to Tommy's chest while Tommy aims the showerhead at Buck's back.

This is the kind of stupid shit Buck had meant, all those months ago, even if he'd done an extremely shitty job of expressing it. This is the kind of shit he'd pictured while Josh waxed poetic about some television show and wondered if Buck saw a future with Tommy.

By the time they're rinsed off and toweled dry Buck can barely stand, but as Tommy's footfalls echo just behind his up the stairs Buck has just enough sense left to roll open the drawer he'd never cleared out, toss Tommy a pair of clean briefs and one of his threadbare LAFD shirts.

Tommy stares at the drawer long enough for Buck to pull on his own clothes. He blinks himself out of it only when Buck stubs his toe wrestling the body pillow Tommy always pretended he wasn't going to end up curled around out from under the bed.

The drawer closes with an echoing 'snick'. Tommy tosses his own towel in the hamper and makes quick work of dressing.

His hair is gonna be a nightmare in the morning. They're both gonna be absolute messes. Buck's pretty sure the only food in this place is raw flour and approximately seventy-five chocolate croissants - he's pretty sure he used up the last of his eggs trying to perfect his meringue technique.

There's a stiff moment after they slide into bed where they both just lay on their backs and stare at the ceiling, oozing into Buck's mattress. Tommy shifts first, and Buck's sure it'll be away - no matter how often they fell asleep tangled together Tommy always ended up hugging the edge of the bed, and it's not like -

"Is this okay?" Tommy asks, even as he's shifting a leg over Buck, hands finding purchase in the cotton of Buck's sleep shirt.

It's like he's been dosed, for the way Tommy's body sliding into place next to his steals all the energy he has left in him. He blinks once, twice, manages to get a hand in Tommy's damp curls in response. The rest of it can wait for tomorrow.

"Evan?" He's sinking into it too, Buck can tell - the weight of his arm and leg pressing Buck further into the mattress, the drawl of Buck's name drifting instead of sharp.

Buck hums. Presses lips into whatever skin he can find without opening his eyes - a temple, or a cheekbone maybe. "Go to sleep, Tommy," he manages, but if Tommy responds he doesn't hear it.

[romaniacs]

▌ㅤNATASHA ROMANOFF — YOUR JEALOUS GIRLFRIEND

( read more ) synopsis — the only hard part about being natasha's girlfriend is keeping it so on the down low that men like steve take forever to give up on you. warnings — female reader x natasha romanoff, flirty steve rogers, a little bit suggestive, fluff.

"hey there" steve's cocky voice echoes inside the quinjet as he leans against the metal wall. "i was thinking… we should go out for once. to a club. not sure you'd like that, romanoff, but yeah" the way natasha's eyes lift up to watch him as he waits for an answer from you makes you smile to yourself.

"we're good" the redhead says.

you're not so sure she is, given how she sounds. "i don't know, i've been tired. think i'll go back to my room soon anyway" you say, trying to escape him.

but he's too full of himself to take a hint. "nah, your room isn't going anywhere… i'm sure we can find something fun to do together. your life has been too serious lately, hasn't it?"

natasha nearly gags beside you. his tone… his look. his blind confidence. fun? wait until he finds out how much fun you have with your romanoff after midnight.

steve reaches for your glass of wine and takes a sip; natasha squirms in her seat, clearly uncomfortable, watching as his eyes stay locked on yours while he swallows.

"no, steve, i do have fun" you mumble.

"please, be honest" he persists, placing the glass back next to you. "when was the last time you took a break?" he steps closer, his voice lowering. "when was the last time you went on a date? you're always so busy. and now you're gonna rest again, this early? that's kinda grandma of you."

you can almost feel the heat radiating off natasha's body.

"she just works hard, dumbass. and, thankfully, you're never around when she loosens up, because trust me, she knows how to have fun" natasha cuts him off sharply.

steve's eyes narrow as her words hit him, caught off guard but not as intimidated as he should be. "oh, really?" he says, his tone cooling slightly, though his ego is a little bit bruised. "and how would you know about her loosening up, nat? aren't you ever buried under paperwork?"

"let's just say i know a thing or two about unwinding. just be happy the walls are thick, rogers" she replies with a playful yet menacing smile; her face is smooth and lovely, but there's an undertone of danger that makes your chest flutter in the nicest way possible. "we should go, hm?" she tells you, and you nod quietly.

"yeah, it's getting late" you say. and your night's about to get good, steve finally understands.

his eyes widen as the realization sinks in, glancing between the two of you, struggling to keep his face neutral but failing as it flushes with embarrassment. "shit, you two… you're…" he stutters, unable to find the right words, and natasha waits patiently for them, but he can't bring himself to utter them out. "nevermind. go, have a good time!" he starts walking out, now not only shocked but also slightly fearful for his life.

[drabblesandimagines]

Swipe Right

Leon Kennedy x female reader, commissioned piece Lots of dumb fluff ahead! Thanks so much to the lovely @porcelainseashore for commissioning me with the brief of Leon using a dating app! I've said it before and I'll say it again - please do go check out Porcelain's fics! x

“So,” Leon places his elbows on the counter behind, leans back and flashes a winning smile, “how about dinner later?”

The auburn-haired woman waits for her coffee to finish dispensing before she shakes her head, lips pursed. “No, thank you, Agent Kennedy.”

“Oh.” He was sure they’d had some sort of connection. Their eyes had met across the office on more than one occasion, flirtatiously so – had he read it wrong? “You have plans already tonight?”

“Mm, something like that.” She smiles, politely, picking up her DSO-branded mug and heading out of the break room without so much as a glance back.

Leon shrugs it off – he’s good at that – and places his own mug under the spout, about to make his coffee selection when a familiar voice chirps over his shoulder.

“Have you ever thought of internet dating?”

He spins round, surprised. “Claire?”

“Hi.” She waves with a smile. “So, internet dating?”

Leon’s brow furrowed, about to ask why she was here, but from the visitor lanyard around her neck it was clear it was down to some sort of TerraSafe business, but why is she going on about internet dating?

Oh.

“Wait, did you hear…?”

“The dinner invite? Oh, yes.” She nods, crossing her arms. “Does that ever work?”

“Yes.”

Claire quirks an eyebrow.

“Okay, not recently.” He retorts, turning back around and pressing the button for his black coffee to start dispensing.

“Uh-huh…” She steps forward, turns to lean against the counter to look at him. “I’m telling you, Leon - internet dating. I finally convinced Chris to give it a go about six months back, and he seems pretty happy. Been seeing a nice girl for three months now – a florist.”

Leon shakes his head, watching the coffee dispense with feigned interest. “Surprised Redfield went for it. How the hell do you introduce anyone to what we’ve seen?” At least with women from work, he didn’t have to skirt around what the hell he does all day.

“Heard of keeping work and homelife separate?”

“And Chris manages that?”

“I mean, she knows what he’s shared with her, but he took it slow. It’s not like the government can keep everything secret these days – not with everyone having a smart phone.” Claire grimaces, remembering the videos of the Alcatraz attack popping up on social media on a live stream. It was taken down pretty quick, but still popped up occasionally. They can’t hide it forever.

“Anyway, enough about Chris’ love life, I’m trying to help yours. Have you tried it? There’s websites and apps…”

Leon recalls a week of medical leave – battered, bruised and laid out on the couch on high doses of meds, flipping through the cable channels and losing hours to a show about people falling in love over the internet, only for the person to be using a fake photo of an entirely different identity and being crushed when they met in person.

“Isn’t that where the catfish are?”

Claire rolls her eyes. “We won’t set your radius that large.”

He looks down, a little confused. “My… radius?”

Leon’s not present on social media, but that’s hardly a surprise with his work. Maybe, if things had been different, he would’ve trawled through it at some point – joined a group for graduates from the Police Academy of ’98, checked in, gone to some sort of graduating class reunion where they would’ve swapped stories from precincts over a lukewarm beer or two in a hall dressed up with balloons and streamers.

Come to think of it, he doesn’t really remember the names of anyone in his graduating class, though he’s not sure if that’s down to a certain amount of knocks to the head throughout his career getting to him. He could look them up – they’ll be in some sort of database somewhere that Hunnigan could help him locate, but what would he say?

“Me? Well, I had one day on the job – hell of a first day, actually – and then I was ‘recruited’ into military training, so technically not a cop anymore either.”

“Phone, please.” Claire has moved to sit down at one of the small tables in the kitchen, now holding out her hand expectantly. He finds himself joining her, mug of coffee in one hand and the other pulling out his cell from his suit jacket pocket. He hands it over because it’s Claire and he’s known her long enough now to know she’s not going to drop the subject so easily.

“Have you got any selfies on here?”

“Don’t think so. Why?”

“To put on your profile. Anything I shouldn’t see in your gallery?”

He shakes his head.

“Seriously, Leon?” She must’ve opened the app by the way she’s scrolling down on the screen. “These are all sunsets and photos of your motorcycle.”

“What should I be picking pictures of?”

“Oh, wait… Here’s one.” She turns the phone around. It’s him, grinning, next to a corpse of a zombiefied lion. “I repeat – seriously, Leon?”

“Ha, yeah.” He smiles in acknowledgement. “I was trying to get Hunnigan interested in fieldwork with the spectacular sights.” Claire turns the phone back around and the sound of a camera shutter clicks out of the speaker.

“Ooh, that’s a good candid – and no-one needs to know what you were looking at.”

“Look, it’s nice of you to offer, but I don’t know about all this…” He rubs the back of his head.

“It’s 30 days free. Just try it and if you still don’t like it by the end of the trial, you can delete it off your phone and I won’t bring it up again.”

He stalls, taking a long sip of his coffee as he thinks. Claire means well, after all and if Chris has had luck with it, considering what Leon knows he’s seen and lived through, what does he have to lose, really?

“Fine. 30 days.”

“Great! Now, let’s set up your profile…”

--

Claire had given him a tutorial – swipe left if you’re not interested on a profile, right if you are. If the person swipes right in return, it’ll set you up as a match and you can start a conversation – signaled by a small speech bubble icon appearing on the bottom right.

It wasn’t until that evening that Leon tried it out properly, sat on his couch, killing time before bed and begins to swipe through. It feels a little odd – he usually likes to get to know a person somewhat before offering out his dinner invite, but this is mostly on looks alone, with a tiny snippet of profile information – age, location, what they’re looking for.

He swipes right on a blonde, her profile full of photos from beach vacations or something, says she’s not too far away from him and is ‘looking to connect with someone deeply.’ A chat box pops up immediately and after a moment or two, three dots show Beauty – he’s not sure that’s her real name - is typing.

Hey, big boy. What’s bigger – your forearms or… An eggplant emoji?

Oh.

He hesitates over writing back a response. He can flirt with the best of them, but how is anyone meant to make a genuine connection over this app? Maybe he’s too old for this shit.

He puts his cell down by his side and switches on the television instead.

--

“So…” Claire drawls over his shoulder over three weeks later, tracked him down to his desk.

“So…” He mocks back with a tease, swinging around in his office chair.

“Any good dates recently?”

He laughs. “How do you even get that far?”

“You’ve not gone on one?”

“Not for lack of trying.” It’s true. After Beauty, he had struck up conversation with a few more genuine girls that seemed to be going well until he’d broached the idea of a date and they’d drop off the radar. “A couple seemed interested but then stopped replying. I got one date – she didn’t show up.”

“Oh, come on.” Claire leans against his desk. “That can’t be everyone. Let me see.” There’s the expectant hand again. He sighs, picks up his phone and opens the app before handing it over to her.

She sets to scrolling through new arrivals for him, before she pauses. “Well, this one looks sweet.”

“Claire, I appreciate your concern but I just don’t think this app is for me. I gave it a go, I swear.”

“I know, but you’ve got a few days left on the free trial at least - you won’t lose anything. Just take a look?”

He takes the phone back and looks at the screen – a cropped picture of you, it looks like, your friends’ arms around your shoulders, a big, genuine smile on your face. Not a pout or a smolder in a night club mirror.

“Aw, you’re smiling.”

“Fine.” He swipes, but the message bubble doesn’t pop up. That’s the one thing he doesn’t like about this app – you never know if the other one will swipe back.

“No match.”

“Give her a moment,” Claire elbows him, playfully. “Not everyone is scrolling for dates at work.”

“Hey-”

“Speaking of, I’ve got a meeting. See you!”

--

You throw yourself down on the bed, a little bit tipsy after an evening of drinking with your friends, and hold your phone dangerously above your face – you’ve been so close to giving yourself a black eye from the drop so many times but never learn – and open up that stupid app. Your friend had encouraged you to sign up to it after declaring you’d been in a pity party for long enough now after your last break-up and it was time to get back out there.

You scroll through the latest arrivals, swiping left as you go. Everyone internet dates now, you don’t know why you only seem to attract utter creeps on it. You’d been on a few dates, but they’d all been entirely awkward outside the safety of the chat box.

You pause on one new arrival, Leon, 41, the first photo in the set clearly a candid. He’s dressed in a suit – no tie. Businessman, you wonder? Amazingly hot and maybe the most shiniest hair you’ve ever seen.

You roll over onto your stomach and swipe right, smiling when a chat bubble appears.

--

Leon had just settled into bed for the night when his phone vibrated angrily on the bedside table. He threw a hand out, blindly, and looked at the screen, half expecting it to be an email from work or a message from Hunnigan.

It’s neither – a notification from the app.

Hi, Leon. Thanks for swiping. Can I ask something?

He frowns – a unique opener, but it could still go the way of the others, he reckons. He’s not a prude, per say, but he’s seen a lot more than he was intending to these past few weeks. He backs up and has a quick scroll through your profile, vaguely recognizing your face from when he’d swiped right earlier that day – the girl Claire had deemed sweet.

Hi – ask away.

A bubble appears with three dots within.

How do you get your hair that shiny?

Leon barks out a laugh - definitely refreshing.

I’m sorry, I don’t think we’re at that stage of our relationship yet where I’m comfortable sharing my beauty secrets.

Please? Mine is so dull.

He clicks on your profile again and onto the photos but can’t see why you’re worried about your hair. Truthfully, all he registers when he looks at the picture is that sweet, genuine smile.

Looks pretty good from what I can see.

The camera adds all the shine. Are you using a filter?

Trust me when I say I wouldn’t know how.

Don’t know about filters but using a dating app? That doesn’t gel.

My friend suggested I give this online dating thing a go, so here I am.

Well, you’ll have to thank your friend for me.

Leon hesitates a moment, before shrugging it off.

I’ll be sure to, especially as it’s got me talking to you.

Your scalp tingles, but it seems nothing to do with the alcohol consumed earlier.

Too cheesy? I told you I’m new to this, right?

Nah, you’re gouda.

Leon grins.

--

The conversation continues to flow over the next few days. You talk about work – he keeps it vague, works in the government, can be called away on business trips last minute – and you are equally elusive in your response of office work. Internet safety, he reckons, smart girl that you are. Hearing his phone ping with a notification has quickly become his favourite sound.

Nice day? Definitely. Picked up my motorcycle – it’s been in the shop a while. Dare I ask what happened? He hesitates. Chasing a bioterrorist down a highway is perhaps a little too much…

Hit by a truck. I wasn’t on it - obviously.

Jeez. Insurance not just buy you a new one? I can’t think how that’s salvageable.

It’s my favourite, I couldn’t give up on her. You ever been on a motorcycle?

Uh-uh. Too scared.

What of?

Falling off, mainly.

No danger of that if you ride tandem - just need to be sure to hold on real tight.

You bite your lip, mulling over a response, but Leon fills the gap.

And I’d look after you, of course. Make a nice first date, don’t you think?

First date? That’s more, like, third or even fourth date material.

There’s your chance, Kennedy – don’t mess it up.

Well, then we better get the first date out of the way.

You bite your lip as you type back a response. Is that your way of asking?

If it is?

If it is, then I’m free Friday...

Perfect.

--

Friday morning arrives and Leon’s at his desk, typing up a report when his phone chimes. Checking over his shoulder, he pulls it out of his pocket and smiles when he sees it’s a text from you. You’d exchanged numbers the other night, deciding it time to take communication off app ahead of meeting up.

Morning. Question?

Morning. Still after my shampoo secrets?

Yes… But not that. How am I meant to recognize you?

I thought that’d be easy – by how shiny my hair is, apparently.

It’ll be dark out, though.

Is this you trying to be subtle about asking for another photo?

No comment.

Leon locks his computer, the screensaver switching to today’s date and time on a black background. He swings his desk chair around, looks around again to make sure no-one’s on their way past, and opens the camera app. He flips the viewfinder around and tries out a couple of smiles before snapping a selfie – if Claire could see him now…

He sends it through.

Included the time and date and all. Happy?

No comment.

Well, how will I recognize you?

Easy. I’ll be the one coming up to you and saying, “Hi, Leon.” See you tonight x

Until then x

--

The two of you had decided to meet at a bistro – varied menu for all tastes, not too intimate, excellent wine, spirits and craft beer menu.

Leon is nervous as he stands to the side of the entrance – an emotion he hasn’t truly entertained since 1998. There had been no time for it when bioweapons and death were staring him down the face. But, tonight… Well, he’s out of his element on this one. Leon had only ever approached women through work and, yes, it was to varying degrees of success but they’d already seen him properly in person, heard his voice, aware of what he does. There was a horrible niggle at the back of his mind that the date who had stood him up a few weeks ago had caught sight of him and turned heel on the spot.

He looks down at this watch to see it’s bang on 7.30. He’d arrived ten minutes too early, but didn’t want to chance being late and showing up in a fluster. When he looks up, slipping a hand back into his pocket, a figure with a familiar face is walking towards him, greets him with an anxious smile and an awkward half-wave.

God, you’re adorable.

“Hi, Leon.” 

“Hi,” He smiles, one hand still in his pocket, the other hanging down by his side. He wonders if he should’ve gone in for the kiss on the cheek, but he’s missed his chance.

“Erm…” You wring your hands together. “You okay?”

“Great. You?”

Why does he feel as giddy as he did when he picked up his girlfriend for prom back at high school?

“I’m good. It’s nice to put a… voice to a face?” You laugh – light and airy - and Leon’s already desperate to hear it again.

“It really is. Er, shall we?” He gestures forward with his arm.

You nod. “Let’s.”

The conversation is stagnant at first, a sentence here or there as you peruse the drinks menu and move on to ordering starters and entrees. With a little liquid courage, though, the two of you soon slip into easy conversation.

It’s just after the appetizers are cleared when Leon realizes he’s completely and utterly smitten.

You don’t even know where the time has gone, but all of the sudden the two of you are the only diners left and it’s clear the wait staff are looking for you to leave so they can begin their nightly clean down.

He follows you out and onto the sidewalk, a few metres away from the bistro entrance, standing awkwardly opposite each other – mirroring the beginning of the evening.

“So, fancy a ride?”

You tilt your head at him curiously before you burst out into laughter and he grins, rubbing the back of his head, awkwardly, as he realizes the context.

“I mean, I brought my bike here. I can give you a ride home - on my bike.”

You smile. “Not on the first date, remember?”

“Of course.” He nods. “Sticking to your principles – I respect that. Well, can I call you a cab?”

“Oh, actually, I’m gonna walk. I live just in that building over there…” You point up to an apartment building about halfway up the next block.

“I could walk you across the street?” He cringes as he realizes maybe he’s coming on too heavy-handed. “I’m sorry, I promise I can take a hint-”

“No.” You cut across abruptly. “I mean, walking me home would be nice.”

You cross the road in silence, both wrapped up in your own thoughts. You wish you lived slightly further away so you’d have longer to work out what to say, how to end the night.

“So…” Leon begins the other side of the road, the entrance to your apartment block just ahead. He’s trying to keep calm and collected, but there’s just something about you that has made his heart race, his palms sweaty. Don’t fuck this up, Kennedy. “I had a really lovely evening.”

“Me too.” You smile back – and you mean it – but you can’t help but brace yourself. Is this the part where he says, yeah, he had a nice time, but he’d rather not do it again? It seems all too good to be true. He’s the same as he was on the phone, messages and photos.

“Great…” You take a deep breath at his pause, unconsciously clenching your fists, “..cos I was wondering how you felt about a second date?”

“You’re really desperate to get me on that motorcycle, huh?” You tease, instantly relaxing. “But, seriously, I’d like that, to see you again.”

“Is tomorrow too soon?”

“That depends what you have in mind.” You stop, suddenly – the apartment foyer to your left. “This is me.”

“Well, we’ve done dinner, shall we work backwards and have lunch next?”

You take a step closer. “And then breakfast?”

“Fourth could be a midnight feast?” He steps forward too, misjudging the distance and something hard brushes against your stomach. Leon’s eyes widen in alarm. “Oh, wait, I…” He dips his hand into his trouser pocket and pulls out a travel-sized bottle of shampoo with a sheepish smile. “I meant to give you this at the end of dinner – my beauty secret.”

You yank him forward by his jacket collar and kiss him before you can even think properly about what you’re doing. You step up onto your tip toes to deepen the kiss, a hand bracing yourself against his chest for a moment before you mean to step back, maybe even apologise for pouncing on the man, but Leon’s arms wrap around your waist, holding you in place, kissing you back incessantly before you both have to retreat for breath.

“Well, if I knew the shampoo would get that reaction I would’ve started the night off with it.” He murmurs, pulling away and resting his forehead against yours. “I gotta ask though - you’ll kiss on the first date, but not ride a motorcycle?”

You shrug, half-heartedly. “One’s more dangerous than the other.”

He kisses you once more, softly, ending with a teasing nibble on your lip.

“Oh, we’ll see about that, sweetheart.” -- Masterlist . 1,000 followers event

[he-calls-me-kitten]

Sugar, Spice and a Tempting Vice (1)

VA! MC x OM! Characters

TW: Eh it's more fluffy than smutty I'd say, but minors DNI. Loads of random lore for the sake of immersion. Now to brainstorm the rest of the characters.

INTRO

Tagging: @romaissa @eliciana @your-favorite-god @april-notthemonth69 @ikevampharem @k8tznd8wgz @futureittomain @m-majoko @the-auguer @yurinayumi @i-am-empress-irish @deepazur @rippedbutnotamasterpiece @pomegranateboba @ra1ns70rm @anjodedesgostoeerros @sammywo @annoyingbiscuitathleteland-blog @ourfinalisation @creativecupcake @snowthatareblack @angelofbooksworld

"After a freak accident, you and a group of 5 people get teleported into a fantastical world together. Who will you team up with to try and leave this place? Or will they convince you to stay and have a new life with them here instead? Or will you stumble across the biggest secret that this new world holds...?"

You read out the summary for them at a group dinner at Diavolo's castle. Apparently, it was to celebrate your debut as a VA. They all clapped and bombarded you with questions. You tried to answer as many as you could without any spoilers.

They were supposed to have already started playing the game but the game servers got a little overwhelmed and had to go under maintenance with so many people downloading and making accounts at the same time. So Diavolo hosted this party instead.

"So how many endings can you get with a single character?" Simeon inquired.

"Well on an average there's around 12 endings per character, but there's a varying number of endings depending on the character you choose. I'm not sure I remember for all of them-"

"We just want to know yours." Belphie smirked.

"Oi come on, it makes it sound like you're all just going to play my character, don't do that! The other characters are also incredibly well written!"

The sheepish grins and side glances told you that they were clearly going ignore your last advice.

"Honestly you guys, one of the characters here has a teleportation ability, one can read minds, and another one has insane fighting skills - the only thing you know about my character is that I don't have a name!"

"Omg this means they are definitely building you upto to have the most OP ability of them all!" Levi exclaimed excitedly.

"Oh yes that's usually how it goes in these tropes. The most unassuming character ends up giving you the secret ending." Solomon nodded in agreement.

"Both of you, shush! Just play the game normally okay?! You will get to interact with all the characters anyway until the second phase." You reprimanded, sighing, knowing no one would listen anyway.

Lucifer - Saved by the Belle

"Before Tyla takes us home tomorrow, would you like to spend your last day here with me, Lucifer?"

Lucifer and you worked with loyalty and rigor under Tyla, an old world Sorceror. It was because of you two specifically that Tyla's magic was powerful enough to create a portal back home. Your character was so much like you - it felt like he completed this whole journey of freedom with you, and not just an image on screen.

> "Of course, MC. In fact...I would like to spend the night with you too."

MC blushed on screen, looking away and nodding. "Oh? Well then... I'll look forward to it."

He enjoys this way more than he thought he would. He visits for the last time, all the places you both had been together. The first tavern, the first forest path, the first temporary abode - the HumbleBee Inn.

> "It's late. Should we go back here again, for old times sake?"

"Why not? Maybe they'll accidentally put us in the same room again and get overbooked so we have no other choice. Maybe this time it'll be a bit more...eventful." You said with a sly and knowing smile as you skipped ahead.

Lucifer's knee jerked upwards, hitting the table. Just what kind of lines are these? And what are those expressions? Who else was in there listening to you when you recorded this? The way your voice sounded, Lucifer was convinced you were thinking about someone special. If only you saw the effect you were having on him.

> "I've been holding back all day. Forgive me if I'm too rough."

Lucifer pushes you against the wall, caging your body. You blush in the dark, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. It was driving him insane. He could feel his pants getting tighter at the crotch.

Last time he endured the sexual tension of sharing the bed with you, constantly trying avoid your body even though he was desperate to feel it's warmth. This time there wasn't any reason to deprive himself.

"It's okay...I can take it. Please don't hold back..."

Oh hell, you were about to be the death of him. These...are these really the sounds you'd make in bed? Godamnit you are ruining his mind. He can't relax until he's jerked off now. And it's all your fault.

The next couple days, you notice Lucifer hesitates to keep eye contact with you. In fact, he has a rather visceral reaction every time you simply call his name, standing at his door. Only he knows how badly he wants to pull you into his bed to ravage you - practice your lines with him, why don't you?

Mammon - Stranded Together

"Guess they didn't want either of us huh, Mammon?"

Nah Mammon was mad at this ending. He gets why the group left him behind - he made too many questionable choices like stealing the last reserves of food or money (so you never went hungry), running away from the monsters instead of staying and fighting with the group(with you ofc so you wouldn't be in any danger), finding new shelter and not telling anyone (except you).

> "I'm so sorry...it's because of me that they left you too. You did nothing wrong yet...no this will not stand! I'll go threaten them into taking you too!"

"Mammon wait- no don't! Alright fine I was lying! They didn't leave me...I chose not to go!"

Mammon was stunned. He stared at your character blushing and looking elsewhere while holding onto his arm. His heart beat just a little bit faster.

> "Wait...what? But you wanted to...don't you want to go back and keep looking for your family?!"

"Who knows if the family I was looking for even exists?! But you...you are real. And you are so kind to me, and so great. So..."

Your character moved in closer and closer to him. Mammon leaned back too far from the screen, falling backwards on the floor. He was not ready for what was about to come.

"If I really want a family that bad...I can just make one here...with you. But only if you wanted that too ..."

> "I do! Of course I do! We can both find work and home in the kingdom now that big monsters are all dead! I'll be yours and you'll be mine!"

Mammon pressed it on instinct, not knowing his character was gonna grab yours and pin them to the ground. His face burnt up in excitement seeing you all cornered like this. You blushed and whispered as you leaned in to kiss him.

"Hehe...Mammon...I'm all yours already. But there's others ways you can claim me if you like..."

Your sleeves fell loose, and off your shoulders and his hands began to wander. Mammon almost screamed the house down, grabbing at his sheets, humping his pillows, struggling to look away from the screen. But he couldn't stop.

How the fuck was he supposed to face you tomorrow at the breakfast table?! Yet, Mammon re-played that part at least 30 times. And now every time you whispered to him in class, Mammon had to grip his knees and stop himself from imagining the unholiest things.

Leviathan - Power of Friend-ship??

"We did it! We actually did it, Levi! Can you believe it?! Look even the people are cheering for us!"

Levi punched the air in glee, he definitely must have gotten the best ending right?! That was such an intense combat scene - he almost cried when he thought you got swallowed by the Giant of The Depths, then he watched you burst out of its stomach with all the other victims while he slashed through its neck. You and him - the two underdogs dealt the final blow. At this point, every other character was shipping you two together.

> "Let's go Army of the Third Lord!"

MC cheered and high fived him from the screen, while the rest of the group danced in celebration! Ah MC had already become one of his favourite characters of all time. He had already preordered the action figures, posters and a body pillow (yes the ecchi one).

"Come on Levi, won't you join the celebration feast!? Everyone is calling for you!"

Oh no this was Levi's nightmare. Loud and crowded parties - but it was you asking him to go, what if he missed out on an important secret ending. Just to be safe he chose a neutral option to see what you would prefer.

> ... I'm not too sure.

"Then...would you like to celebrate in private with me? I know a quiet place with a good view."

Levi almost fell out of his seat. It's happening. This is where he unlocks the hidden erotic ending. The blush on your face, the way you held out your hand for him to take - biting down on his knuckles in excitement.

> I'd really prefer that! Thank you!

You smile and nod, leading him by the hand to a nearby pond. The moonlight shimmered on the water, the reflections dancing on your skin as you both lay down next to each other. Levi could feel himself falling for you all over again.

"Look Levi, in the pond! The Gloriees are back! Aren't they beautiful?"

Levi looked at the pond in awe, glowing orange fishes swam around in the waters, jumping in and out. He watched the fishes swim around the hand you put in the water. It was like you and hundred Henries in the water.

> "So beautiful..."

"They are my absolute favorite....they have the same color as your eyes..."

Your hands reach up to touch his face, pulling him closer and Levi feels all his self restraint jump out the window. He tried to grab and kiss you but ended falling in the water with you instead.

"Oh? I didn't know I excite you so much... don't worry, it makes me really happy..."

You rose from the water, laughing and coughing slightly, your entire body now laid bare through the transparent white cloth. And if that wasn't already bad enough, he heard your moans as his character started going at it with you in the lake. You were so professional, so skilled at it...he thought he was prepared for it but he clearly wasn't.

Levi couldn't resist jerking himself off there and then, soiling his computer screen with light ropes of his cum. Now every time you announced you were going to shower, this image just popped into his mind, giving him instant boners at the most unfortunate times. And god forbid he sees you walk out of the shower with your hair wet - he'll have to rush to his room to hide that he's creamed his pants.

Satan - Bridge to Televithyia

"Satan, I will be waiting for you always. I know if fate wills it, I'll definitely get to see you again."

Satan cursed himself for this ending, almost chucking his phone at the wall. His magical powers no longer worked since the portal now connected him to his own world. And while you could use all your magic here, it would lose all power in his world. With both worlds needing help after a long and destructive battle, you both knew it was selfish to abandon your either of them - especially since you two were the only Great Guardians left.

> "I will find a permanent path between our worlds. I swear upon my life, MC."

Damnit this game had better not cut his story short. He was willing to keep going, trying to fix the playthrough so he could make a good ending out of this. Just you wait MC, he's not letting you go. A part of him wanted to go into your room and hug you, just to make sure you're there atleast in real life.

Satan rubbed furiously at his eyes as you waved him goodbye. His total playtime could rival Levi's. After gathering enough resources and magical knowledge - he could finally get started on creating the bridge. But to his pleasant surprise, he only needed to build half of the bridge, because there you were standing on the other - building your own path towards him too.

"Satan...is this a dream? Are you really back? Or is this another magical illusion again...?"

Satan blushed as you rushed to hug him peppering kisses all over his face. He had to physically get away from the game, walk around, and silently scream into his hands before he could calm himself down. Because he knew even better things were yet to come.

> "It's really me, MC. I'm sorry did I make you wait too long? I missed you so terribly...I have so many things to tell you about..."

"Come with me, we've been rebuilding our town. I know a place we can catch up...it's a special place I helped build with you in mind."

Satan follows you, your arms intertwined. You point out places to him - old renovations and newer projects. You tell him about everything that's been happening since he left.

How some endangered species came back to life, how the remaining smaller beasts were tamed and how the cursed were given peace. You stopped suddenly in front of a quaint little cottage.

"Welcome to my humble abode. I'm sorry I didn't prepare a separate room for you...because I thought you wouldn't mind sharing a bed with me..."

He blushes and grips your hand as you open the door to your room. He sees pictures of both of you on the wall and next to the bed.

> "You already built a home...with me in mind. *Smiles* Yet...the bed looks in it hasn't been slept in for a while? Did you get no sleep for the past few days?"

"Actually I haven't slept in the bed yet. I sleep on the sofa - I know it's silly but I really don't like sleeping alone in a place of two..."

Satan grips the phone tighter, as he makes his character push you on the bed. How sweet - you both get to enjoy it together for the first time. He climbs after you, trapping you underneath him.

> "Good thing I'm here now, MC."

He cups your face and trails his hands downwards, undoing some buttons on your clothes. You kiss his palms and tug down his collar.

"It's a pity though...I don't think we'll be using the bed for sleeping tonight afterall..."

He watched the screen, slack-jawed as I heard your sultry voice echoing through his room. He fell back on his pillow, hurriedly attaching his earphones. It proved to be more lethal. He could almost imagine you in his bed right now, kissing your way down his chest, while he fondles your bottom.

When you approached him later asking if he liked your work in the game, he had to cover half his face to hide the redness. He couldn't possibly tell you that he had downloaded snippets of all your moans and saved them to a secret folder. Or that he listened to them quite frequently.

[ofpd]

1st century roman siege of jerusalem dashboard simulator

🐮 barkamtza

why does this shit always happen to me

#oh my goddd the ONE time it seems like people actually wanna hang out with me. #turns out they meant to invite kamtza instead #everyone hates me and i was SO fucking nice i offered to pay for the party #god i'm so pathetic. kms kms kms #they're gonna pay for this i swear #delete later

0 notes

📜 zekharya-ben-avkolas

Ok so obv it's not ok to sacrifice a blemished calf but the blemish is just on the eyelid? So maybe it's ok? But also and i don't want people to start going around thinking that it's ok to sacrifice blemished animals. But the thing is that if i don't bar Kamtza will tell the Romans we insulted them and that will be bad probably. And like no one likes bar Kamtza anyway will people really miss him..... but ugh neither of these seem like good things to do i don't feel like it's my place to make a decision about this :/

32 notes

🏛 vespasian reblogged

🏺neronero

off to war wish me luck! 🇲🇪🏹

🏺neronero

nvm guys. ✡️✡️

🏛 vespasian

my turn lol

53 notes

🧑🏽‍🦳 not-an-airport reblogged

🧑🏽‍🦳 not-an-airport

Hey everyone! These are difficult times, and some friends and I have put together some mutual aid resources for our community to have access to wheat, barley, wine, salt, oil, and wood! More info below the cut. Take care of yourselves! 🫶

Read more

🧑🏽‍🦳 not-an-airport

fuck

7,235 notes

⚔️ biryonei-yerushalayim

anonymous asked:

Hey, I'm trying to ask this in good faith, and I hope you can take it that way. how can you possibly defend burning our grain stores. I understand that you want to radicalize more people but you're taking things too far. Jerusalem's blood is on your hands.

anon, what you need to understand is that the blame for the carnage in jerusalem lies primarily in the hands of the roman invaders and secondarily in the hands of the rabbis for refusing to resist. would you have told the hashmonaim not to resist their oppressors by any means necessary? just because this is getting inconvenient for you doesn't mean we shouldn't be doing it. it's frankly offensive that you'd imply that we, the defenders of jerusalem, should incur any blame for her current state.

#biryonim.answer #grain storage discourse

231 notes

🛡 goel-yisrael

did anyone else see the "zealot blocklist" going around lmaooo

#how do these liberals expect anyone to take them seriously #do they not have anything better to do.

7 notes

📚 stammaim reblogged

stopbeingpoor-deactivated3830102

ughh why is my servant so incompetent! i deserve the best flour why doesn't he get it...

stopbeingpoor

ykw i'll go get some myself. i'm desperate at this point i gotta do something

stopbeingpoor

EWWWW update: i stepped in something NASTY. this is why i don't fucking go out oh my god im gonna die

stopbeingpoor

gonna throw my gold & silver away for the good of the peasants or whatever it's not like it's any use to me when im literally dying -_-

📚 stammaim

lmao look at this it's exactly what yehezkel was talking about! ur gold won't save you!

#yehezkel #marta b. baitos

162 notes

🕎 yalla-hapoel

🌿 amicus-iudaeorum asked:

Hey, love your posts! They're very informative about the Jewish perspective on this war. I'm just wondering whether you condemn the actions of the zealots? I don't really feel comfortable following someone who supports that.

are you fr.

#if youre seriously concerned about this idt this is the blog for you i fear

28 notes

🛡 goel-yisrael reblogged

📖 ben-zakkai

⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️ lol

🛡 goel-yisrael

? what does this mean

🗡 abbasikkara

dw about it bestie

🛡 goel-yisrael

ok 💗 yay 💗

6 notes

👩🏽‍🌾 discoursedumpblog

I've compiled a list of some of the most rabid zealots on this website. Remember, don't engage, just block and move on.

Read more

152 notes

🏛 vespasian reblogged

🏛 vespasian

some jew got an audience with me & called me king (im literally not lol thats so disrespectful to the actual king + if i was king then he shouldve met w me much earlier??), i think i should kill him

🏛 vespasian

AND my shoe is being so annoying. horrible day 👎

📖 ben-zakkai

omg just came across this old post

🏛 vespasian

OMG sorry i don't mean it anymore 🙏

14 notes

🫒 a-simple-yid

yirmiyahu tzadak...

#not to pretentiously quote tanakh but literally like. #hashiveinu hashem eilekha venashuva hadeish yameinu kekedem.

3 notes

[junelovesaz]

Unspoken words

Note: Hey loves! I'm sorry for disappearing again, I was on vacation, and I'm terrible at managing my time. I finished my first semester at university and have started the second one (send help, please 💀), so all the accumulated stress made me want to write. Thank you for taking the time to read this! 💙💙 I'm sorry if it's a mess, but I hope it entertains you a bit! I've discovered that I enjoy writing angst, so I think that's my path.

P.S.: Azriel will always make me sigh, but I admit that Cassian is my favorite bat boy, so I'll include him everywhere.

Anyway, I love you all!💙💙 Every like and reblog is appreciated! Just a reminder that English isn't my first language, so if there's any mistake, don't hesitate to tell me!

Words: 1k+ Warnings: None, just angst Summary: The reader saw at the family dinner how Azriel and Elain worked together. It made something inside her stir, and the feelings she had been hiding became painfully unbearable.

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

For the Mother.

It was the only thought that came to mind before I dodged Cassian's blow. My reflexes definitely weren't at their best today, and we both knew it. So, I just rolled my eyes at the smug smile on Cassian's face.

I had slept less than three hours because every time I closed my eyes, the image I so desperately wanted to get out of my mind was the only thing I saw. So, I had tossed and turned in bed until dawn, which is why my body was so exhausted and dodging blows felt like torture. I wasn't even trying to attack him, just to hold my ground. That's how pathetic I was being today.

I didn't even anticipate Cassian's move until I felt his legs sweeping mine out from under me, and my back hit the ground. I gasped as the air left my lungs and let out a groan from the impact.

"What the hell is wrong with you today?" I heard his voice ask before his wings spread out above me, shielding my eyes from the direct sunlight.

I sighed, exhausted, and gave up, stretching my arms out and relaxing my muscles. He just crossed his arms and looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

"Since when are you so bad at fighting?"

I huffed and pulled my limbs in until I was sitting up. "Don't feed your ego too much. I'm just not having a good day."

I felt him scrutinize me with his eyes, narrowing them before he sighed and dropped his body next to mine.

"What's going on?" he asked softly, even his hazel eyes had turned gentler.

I could tell him, I knew I could, just as I knew he would keep quiet. But verbalizing what I felt, how I felt, would make everything more real.

"It's nothing. It's just my head, you know" I lied, downplaying it.

Cassian stayed silent next to me for a few seconds before I felt his hand press my shoulder. Of course, he had read the lie.

I sighed. Maybe I could tell him what I had seen yesterday, the connection between a certain shadow singer and the youngest Archeron sister at dinner, but telling him would mean explaining why it affected me so much.

"It's nothing, Cass. It's just that…" I paused to think a bit. "Have you ever felt cornered? Like you're running away from something you don't want to face… But once everything happens before your eyes, there's nowhere left to run."

I looked at him uncertainly, trying to hide the feeling of desperation and sadness. He came closer to me and put one of his arms around my shoulders, ignoring how sweaty we both were, before giving me a look of understanding and nodding gently.

"It's not a pleasant feeling" he agreed. "But I also know that if there's no place left to run, all you can do is face it, or whatever is haunting you will devour you."

"It's not that simple."

"It never is," was his only response before he shrugged "Being over five hundred years old doesn't make things easier."

"It's just that…" I swallowed thickly and finally decided to show him my vulnerable side. "Yesterday…"

However, before I could utter a word, the sound of boots hitting the ground alerted me, and I forced myself to keep my mouth shut. Cassian reacted by frowning and turned to see who it was. I mimicked his action, and when I saw a pair of wings accompanied by dark tendrils, I tensed a little.

I understood that Az had wanted us to hear him coming. So, I didn't flinch when he stood there studying us for a moment.

"Am I interrupting?"

I gave Cassian a quick, discreet glance, trying to convey that we'd finish the conversation later. He looked at me confused, but I shook my head, and he nodded in agreement without insisting.

He pressed my shoulder again before changing his position, still on the ground, but his attention now directed to his brother.

"So, your ass remembered we had training today and decided to show up, huh, Az?" he let out, instantly changing the mood of the place.

"I had a meeting with Rhys" Azriel replied simply, with one corner of his mouth lifted. "You look defeated."

Cassian's wings twitched, and I had to hold back a smile to speak. "He kicked my ass, actually, and now he's here on the ground pitying me."

Az smiled, and for a moment, I had to remind myself that this was nothing, that I shouldn't get any ideas in my head that would only go one way. He was off-limits, and continuing to think that way made my chest ache, so I forced myself to look away and focus on his shadows, some roaming the space, others coiling around his neck, whispering things in his ear.

"Hard to believe after the beating Rhys gave you yesterday" he mocked.

"That's not true" Cassian made an indignant noise before getting up from the ground and heading to the secluded area where we could rest for a while.

Grateful for the distraction from my own thoughts, I laughed as Az approached, and my joy faded a bit when I noticed he was stretching out his hand to help me up. I looked at him and hesitated, but I didn't want him to misinterpret my hesitation, knowing how his mind would tell him it was because of his scars. So, I took his hand, preferring my pain over his, even though these small gestures were what hurt me the most at the end of the day.

I thanked him without looking at him to soften the blow and prevent him from noticing my expression.

"I'm ready to fight you. Whenever you want" Cassian said as he drank water and tied his hair again with the leather strap Nesta had given him.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the competitive flame ignite in Az's face. Then I knew it was time to leave and pray to The Caldroun that neither of them would bleed today.

I walked over to Cassian, with Azriel on my heels, and took some water too, while looking for a towel to dry off. Az guessed what I wanted and handed me one that was next to him.

"Thanks" I repeated again without looking at him.

I said nothing more because I feared the lump that was slowly forming in my throat, but I could feel his gaze scrutinizing me. Nevertheless, I ignored it. I was determined to get rid of all the damn feelings.

As much as it hurt me more than I let on.

"I have to go, Cass. See you later" I said, patting his shoulder.

He nodded, smiling, looking for my gaze. "I'll look for you in the library" he replied, referring to finishing the conversation.

I nodded, and he returned to the training ring. So I turned to Azriel, who was already taking off his shirt, and I had to swallow hard. Seeing him in all his glory was always breathtaking, seeing his bronzed skin, every sculpted muscle, scar, and Illyrian tattoos.

But I would have to learn to forget him. There was no other option.

"See you later, Az" I said, also saying goodbye as I walked past him.

Or rather, trying to. Because he gently took my arm and spread his wings a bit, halting my path and blocking my way.

I had to hold back a shiver and looked at him, full of confusion.

"Everything okay?" he asked softly.

I could feel his eyes searching for answers in mine, even the cold brush of one of his shadows on the arm he still held. The only thing I could think of was to look away and nod.

"Yeah, why?" I replied in the calmest tone I could muster.

He said nothing, but I could still feel him trying to decipher something. As if he were searching for answers somewhere in me and couldn't find them anywhere.

"Are you sure?"

I nodded without saying anything, trying to bury my feelings deep inside. I was terrified; nothing good would come of letting anything surface. I'd rather spend a thousand years in The Prison than ruin the peace that existed in everyone's lives.

Still, I knew I hadn't convinced him that everything was fine, but I also knew he was kind enough not to push me. So finally, after a moment of doubt, he let me go and lowered his wing to let me pass.

"See you later, Az" I said again, escaping so quickly that he had no time to hold me back again or even say anything.

Once a few steps away, I felt the tension leave my body, and I let the expression of concern take over my face. I tried not to look back, I swear I did, but before going down the stairs, I turned my head a bit, only to find Az's worried gaze.

Maybe I should have bothered to change my expression, but, anyway, it didn't matter. Nothing would change, so I just continued my way down the stairs while a feeling of sadness took over my chest.

Let me know if you want me to add you to the tag list. I wasn’t sure if those who had previously asked still wanted to be included, so just let me know if you still want to be tagged!

[neowinestainedress]

wait for me | lee jeno

title: wait for me

pairing: lee jeno x fem!reader

genre: smut

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, oral (m and f receiving), facef*cking, praise kink, minor degradation (more like teasing), (consensual) filming for one scene, pet names (princess, baby/babe, honey, good girl, silly girl, etc), mentions of p*rn, loss of virginity (it’s a social construct but you get the point), soft dom!jeno, innocent!reader, romantic but rough at times, a bit of aftercare

summary: jeno keeps his promise of turning you into a mess under him

wc: 6.195k

a/n: I take my time with things, but if I promise something, I will do it, so here’s a gift for my precious @everloving-avenue ♡ it took almost a year but the sequel to this drabble is here! you don’t have to read the first part to understand. the style is a bit different from the drabble because I do write in a different way, so I don’t know how it will flow if you read one right after the other, but I hope you’ll enjoy it anyway. I missed writing just good old smut with no plot. Same thing as the original drabble; I don’t think I’m the best when it comes to writing first times, so I hope this doesn’t suck completely. ps: missed writing about Jeno ♡

general taglist: @froggyforyoongi, @wingsss45, @tddyhyck | send an ask if you want to be added (i hope i didn't forget anyone cause i didn't use a tag, but from now on i will so i'll have everyone in the same place)

“Can you take it all, pretty girl?” Jeno never looked more intimidating than he does now, looking down at you while you’re on your knees, trying to keep your gaze locked in his and don’t divert it, too embarrassed and distracted by his big, hard dick standing so close to your face. 

You gulp, humming lowly and moving closer to the head of his cock, your lips brushing against it, making him laugh tenderly. 

“We can wait if you’re not ready,” he says, the husky tone of his voice sends shivers down your back, and even if he has been nothing but nice and respectful to you, your brain can only focus on the sexiness of it. 

“No, I...” you hesitate, lowering your head as you suddenly feel shy, “… I don’t know what to do.” Since you called him that night, you had been more daring, but Jeno always focused on you, and the bravest thing you’ve done to him was a handjob. This feels like such a big step, and you’re terrified you’ll let him down, no matter how much he has been reassuring you. 

A smile curls his lips, but it’s more of a grin as he bends over and lifts your chin up. “I’m here to teach you, am I right?” 

You feel your throat close for a moment as you bravely meet his eyes, you can see he’s holding back, and that makes a fire ignite in you. You’d even let him be rough with you — at least that’s what you saw while lurking on… those sites — but you don’t feel like pushing your luck. So you nod, swinging your ass on your heels as your knees rub against the carpet to move closer to him again. 

“Good girl,” he coos, kissing you quickly before standing up like before. “Open up,” Jeno orders, this time holding the base of his dick as he prods the tip against your lips. 

You do as he says, tongue coming out of your mouth as you try to remember what you saw in a few videos. 

Jeno smiles, teasing his length on it, watching as you try so hard to don’t look away. He thinks you’re really cute, really fucking cute, to be honest. There’s a bit of fear and a lot of eagerness in your eyes, and after months, he can’t hold back anymore. His free hand reaches for your cheek as he slowly starts pushing in, whispering to you to be careful to don’t bite and keep your mouth wide open, until he’s halfway in. 

You flinch, eyes squeezing as you feel the flow of air already dim in your lungs, hands immediately finding his thighs to hold onto something. 

Jeno snickers, pulling out and shaking his head. “Silly girl, you have to breathe, that’s like the most important part.” 

You feel like he’s testing the ground, being bolder in the way he talks to you during these moments, and you have no idea why, but you find it hotter than you imagined you ever would. Your thighs clench as you feel your pussy throb just at the way he had called you a silly girl. 

“Through your nose, darling. You got it?” Something about the way he’s so condescending makes you dizzy and answer him right away, eyes fluttering as you nod and part your lips again, this time not set for failure. 

He pushes into your mouth again, it’s slow and he grunts as he slides in, feeling your warm, wet mouth wrap around him. 

You gag on it when the tip reaches the back of your throat, but Jeno’s ready to calm you down. 

“Breathe deeply, babe,” he says, voice dropped by an octave as his thumb caresses the portion of your skin between your jaw and neck. “You’re being such a good girl for me.” 

Your toes curl at his words, and you feel a heavy weight being lifted from your back. Jeno feels it in the way your throat relaxes and how your cheeks suck him in. 

If only he didn’t wait so long, he would stay still for a bit more, but now that he has you like this, he can’t control himself. “Can you suck?” He asks, voice shaking. 

“I guess,” you mumble before pulling away to take a deep breath. “You want me to move on it?” 

“Yeah,” he hums. “I fear I won’t be so gentle if I do all the job.” 

You quirk a brow, tilting your head as you stare at him. “What do you mean?” 

He shakes his head. “Nothing. Just remember what I said, breathe through your nose, and you’ll be fine.” 

You’re not happy with the way he dismissed your question, but you ignore it anyway, taking his cock in your mouth another time. You close your eyes to concentrate more and you start to suck, bobbing your head slowly at first, until you find a rhythm he seems to like, and it’s not too much for you. 

It feels weird, yet, every time you feel like you’re doing something wrong — like when the lewd sounds of your mouth get louder when it hits too deep, or when your nails sink in his thighs hard, or when spit drools from your chin — Jeno only moans louder and the hold of his hand in your hair tightens. 

“Good girl,” he praises, and when you open your eyes, you see his head reclined, lips parted and eyelids sitting on his beautiful cheeks. “Taking my dick so well.” 

Your body burns up at his word, a mix of feelings you can’t explain getting to your brain, but you keep trying to do your best to work on him. Until something pops in your mind. You pull away, mostly to take your breath, but your hand immediately reaches his base to pump up and down. 

Jeno doesn’t say anything, he even manages to muffle the groan of disappointment he let out when your lips left him. He knows you need breaks, but he still doesn’t quite expect what you do next. The combo mouth-hand was not on his bingo today and he can’t believe you’re doing it. It takes you a while to find a rhythm — he finds it adorable how uncoordinated you are — but when you do… fuck, when you do. 

You’re moving slower than Jeno would go crazy for, but he likes it anyway. You’re trying your best, brows knitted in concentration, mouth and hand working together, and soft moans vibrating around him. Just the view is enough to push him closer to the edge, especially when you seem to relax completely. 

“Stay focused,” he calls you out, fearing you might stop doing the most important thing again; breathe. “Don’t get too lost, princess.” 

You hum, voice muffling around his length hitting deep in your throat while you open your eyes to look at him. His jaw is tense, and he’s breathing deeply through his nose, the veins of his arms are so visible, propping on his skin as his hand is closed in a fist. He’s trying not to look down at you, you won’t know it, but you look too hot right now, and if only his eyes move down, he would start fucking your face. 

But you can’t take it. It’s your first time, and he has to be gentle. He can’t act like an animal without self-control, because he is not, right? 

Yet the more you softly moan, and gag and suck him, hollowing your cheeks while your hand shily works on the base and his balls, the harder it gets. 

When he practically growls, you pull back, terrified you did something wrong, unaware eyes looking into his. 

“Did I hurt you? I’m sorry, I — I was careful with my teeth, I’m sure I wasn’t —” 

He clicks his tongue, shaking his head as he shuts you up with his thumb on your lips, now plumper and red with spit dripping from a corner down to your chin. “You did nothing wrong,” his breath is ragged and his pupils are dilated, his chest is heaving quickly while his hair is starting to wet around the crown of his forehead. “You’re being good, baby, too good.” 

You blink, confusingly staring at him. “Too good? How can I be too good?” 

Jeno sighs, caressing your cheeks, wetting them with the spit that stuck to his thumb. “You really have no idea how fucking hot you look right now, don’t you?” 

You purse your lips, shaking your head as you keep looking up. Feeling oh so small. 

A smirk paints his face. “Should I show you?” He asks, but you don’t get it until he grabs the phone from the nightstand and shakes it in his hand. 

“Oh, that,” you gasp, feeling your throat go dry. 

“Only if you want, of course,” he reassures, sensing your hesitation. 

“I — it’s fine. If it stays on your phone, it’s fine,” you say, feeling yourself get wetter at the thought of him taking a picture of you at such a moment. It’s also curiosity. Are you really that good? Do you look as pretty as the girls in those videos? You doubt that, even if they look like a mess they’re always so pretty, but you? Maybe Jeno is just being nice because it’s you. 

“Of course, princess. Trust me, I wouldn’t let anybody else see you like this.” And also, for all the times he is going to have you in that position, he would even delete it once you are done, if you prefer it. 

You nod, shifting in your place because you don’t know what to do, should you pose? Should you take it in your mouth again? But Jeno answers your questions when he grips your chin and forces your head up, you’re not as messed up as he wishes you were, but this will do. “Smile for me,” he says and you do, feeling awkward. You’d like to disappear if only you couldn’t see his cock throb in your peripherical view, he wants you so much. 

So, as soon as the phone moves away with praises coming out of his mouth, you lean in, taking it inside again. 

“Fuck,” Jeno curses, clutching the phone in his hand, struggling to show you the picture of you. “Let me fuck your face,” he pleads, words followed by ragged moans, “you can tap my thigh if it gets too much but — fuck — let me try.” 

You pull away, trying to follow him, but even if you are doing something to him, your brain is already lost in the pleasure, and the fact you have pretty much no idea what he’s talking about doesn’t help. “Like in the videos?” 

“I won’t be that harsh, I promise,” and even if pleasure is running in his body, you can hear the honesty in his voice. 

“O — okay, but…” you drift your gaze away, “can you film us? So I can see after?” 

A deep groan reverberates in his chest, followed by a low suck of air. He can’t believe this is real, that you are real. So innocent and pure, asking for such things. But he’s more than happy you are the one proposing stuff to him. “Yeah, fuck, yes.” 

You shouldn’t feel like this just hearing his voice and moan, but you do, and the way your panties are sticking to your pussy is getting unbearable, you can’t wait to have him down there, so you part your lips, and wait for him to take the invitation. 

Jeno doesn’t waste a second more, shoving himself down your throat, stopping to give you time to adjust to the rough intrusion of his girth before he starts moving his hips against your face. 

At first, it feels weird, you have no control, and the pace is faster than yours, but you try to remember what he said before; you focus on your breathing and the sweet sounds coming from his mouth. Mostly because the ones coming from yours are too dirty for you to bear with. 

“Fuck, babe, just like this,” he praises, one hand holding up the phone and the other caressing your cheek, trying to give you something soothing while he moves with force, it’s not too strong, surely not like one video you accidentally watched — and closed right away because it was way too much. This feels like a great compromise between your slower pace from before and the facefucking.

“My pretty baby, taking me so well,” Jeno moans, smiling at you when he sees a glint of a smile in your eyes. “You still don’t believe me, do you?” 

You try to answer him non-verbally, but the way he’s thrusting into you doesn’t give your head any room for movement. He tsks, shaking his head disappointedly. “Don’t believe me when I call you beautiful when we go out on dates, don’t believe me when I whisper it to you in the morning, and not even now? Do I really have to show you?” 

You feel like choking, but not on his dick. It’s because of his voice, his words, and the tone he’s using. Your breath falters more when he turns the phone to you, the video playing what you were doing just a few moments ago. You should think it’s weird, humiliating even, but you don’t. It’s turning you on even more, and you do look pretty like he says. 

“See how beautiful you are even like this?” His voice is heavy, reaching deep into your core, making your pussy clench around nothing and drool out more excitement. “Your glossy eyes, your pretty lips stretched open just for me. Do you believe me now, princess?” 

You nod, nails digging into his thigh because the video and him are deconcentrating you and you fail to do the most important thing; breathe. You gasp when he pulls out, a thread of spit connects your lips with the tip of his cock as you sputter, trying to catch your breath. 

“Are you okay?” He asks worriedly, throwing the phone on the bed and staring at you with a concerned look on your face. “You know you should stop before reaching your limit?” 

“I know,” you cry out, cleaning your chin before lifting your gaze at him. “I was doing fine, but I… I forgot how to breathe.” 

Jeno snickers, caressing your lips with his thumb, smearing the mess on your chin another time. “You forgot how to breathe, baby? Didn’t fuck you yet, and you’re already my dumb baby?” He’s clearly testing the waters another time, you discussed these things a lot, but Jeno knows that videos and stories on the internet are a completely different thing from reality and he’s not so confident everything you think��turns you on will actually turn you on. But apparently dirty talking, a mix between a lot of praises and just a hint of degradation, turns you on for real. He watches your thighs clench and your boobs rise while a choked moan leaves your lips. 

He smiles, or better, grins, tapping your face with his cock. “Will you let me fuck your mouth until I come, silly girl? Should we see just how dumb you get on me?” 

You nod eagerly, moving even closer with your knees, sure by now you were going to have marks of that night tomorrow. But not even the discomfort can stop you from letting him have his way with you. 

You moan louder when he pushes inside you this time, hands reaching his thighs for support while he starts moving quickly in and out, groans falling copiously from his tongue, balls slapping against your chin, and strong grip on the side of your face. 

You can’t take it anymore and you start rubbing your thighs together, trying to get a tiny bit of relief as his moans progressively get lower, aggressive and messier. He always tries to hold back but you’re loving this side of him. 

“Where — fuck — where do you want me to come?” He asks, slowing down a bit, only now realizing you’re wearing your favourite tank top and he doesn’t want to ruin your clothes, but were you ready for the whole thing? “Shirt?” When you shake your head he tries to think of something else, but the only option is not much better. “Floor?” But you shake your head again, and there’s only one thing left, “mouth?” You nod, eyes beaming, and he loses it. “Fuck,” he groans, hips stilling against your face as the orgasm hits him, making him empty inside of you. He drags out to don’t make you choke on his cum and then pulls away, still shuddering and moaning, expecting you to spit, having decided to play with fire and surely regretting it, but you don’t. Your face is contorted in an expression he can’t read, but you swallow everything, and then look up at him with innocent eyes. 

“Was I good?” 

“Fuck, honey, yes,” he says, lifting you up by wrapping an arm around your waist, making you lay on the bed. “So good,” he praises. 

You smile but feel shy once again when he doesn’t start anything more. You’re aching, and you want him. Everything. His mouth and fingers are not enough anymore, you need him now. 

“Jeno,” you moan. “Please.” 

“Yeah?” he asks nonchalantly. 

You huff, rolling your eyes. “Don’t make me say it.”

“Oh, no, princess, I want to hear you. Use your big girl words,” he orders.

“I want you to fuck me,” you breathe out, barely holding eye contact with him. 

He smiles victoriously, feeling his dick harden again just from hearing your voice say those filthy words. “Are you sure?” He checks in, quirking a brow.  

You hum. “I’m dripping,” you whisper, feeling too conscious about the mess between your legs. “I’m ready.” 

Jeno tried to postpone this as much as he could, not because he didn’t want you, but because he wanted to wait for you and respect your time. He knows you tend to jump into things head first, but after a brief look at you, he knows this time isn’t the case. Since the daring call, you two experimented a lot, so this was the right moment to give you everything. 

“Stop me if anything makes you uncomfortable, alright?” 

You nod, silently watching as he adjusts between your legs, pulling down your stained panties before throwing them to the side. You don’t expect his lips to leave kisses on your thighs, quite frankly you feel more eager than usual to get what you wanted right away, but it’s clear he has other plans. 

You still shy away every time he’s between your legs, feeling too conscious about how intimate you two are being. And it makes you even more dizzy when Jeno breathes in deeply before sucking on your clit. 

“Jeno,” you cry out, covering your face with your hands. 

“What, baby? How many times do I have to tell you not to cover yourself?” He scolds, eyes staring at you from between your legs. “Move your hands away or I’ll leave.” 

You barely give him time to finish that your hands are sitting at the sides of your body, and your hips are bucking up, inviting him to take care of you. 

“Eager baby,” he whispers before spreading your thighs wider, sinking down to lick your wetness. “Taste so good, princess.” 

“It’s weird,” you mumble, you truly can’t get what he finds so hot about it, and how good you taste. 

Jeno clicks his tongue, groaning in disappointment. “You don’t have to taste it,” he says, giving another harsh suck to your clit that makes your thighs shudder, “it’s all for me, and I love it.” 

Your head rolls back when he starts moving his tongue on you as soon as he’s done with his words. He’s neat, like his usual, sucking and licking until he has you shaking underneath him. But usually — the four times you’ve done this before — you just lay there. This time your fingers find their way in his hair, tangling in it as you push him closer. 

“Fuck, babe,” he moans, voice muffled against your body. “I’m not going anywhere,” he giggles and the vibrations push your brain in a spiral while your head rolls back. 

You bite down a high-pitched moan when he pushes two fingers inside you after collecting your arousal and his spit. If you want to take him — and you do — he has to get you ready for the big thing —literally. So he sucks on your clit and pumps in and out of you faster, scissoring his two digits every now and then to stretch you out more. 

“So welcoming, angel,” he hums, pulling away from your clit with a loud pop, “do you want me that much?” You must be particularly turned on because his fingers slide into you with ease, more than the other times when it took him a while to get you accommodated to the intrusion. 

“Yeah, I…” your words die in your mouth as you stare at the ceiling, feeling so, so close to the high. It’s a feeling you know quite well now, but it still catches you by surprise every time. And you fear you will never get used to any of this, not anytime soon, at least. 

“You?” He coos. “You want my cock in you? Want to finally know what it feels like to be fucked nice and deep?” 

You want the mattress to eat you as he speaks those words, but your body reacts in a completely different way, burning up as your orgasm washes over you, leaving you breathless against the bed. 

Jeno pulls his fingers out of you, sucking them clean when he’s sure your watching. “Tastes so good, no matter what you say, baby.” 

You let out a shaky breath, feeling your body buzz in ecstasy. 

“Come here,” he says, leaning in, lips to lips, “taste yourself on me.” You kiss him with no hesitation, not because you’re eager to taste your cum, but because you want to feel him as close as you can. 

“Jeno, please,” you beg, cupping his face before pulling him into another kiss. “I need you.” 

“I know you do,” he says, softly caressing your side. “Can you take it, though?” 

You nod swiftly, hips desperately grinding against him, feeling his cock against your skin. “I’ll be good, I promise.” 

Jeno smiles softly, finding it so cute how you still worry about him when you should focus on yourself. He kisses you while his right hand is busy rummaging in the stand next to the bed to find lube. 

“But I’m wet,” you complain when you realize what he’s doing, feeling a bit guilty because maybe it’s still not enough. 

“Yes, you are,” he agrees, kissing your body as he slowly stands on his knees and positions you better on the bed. “But I’m big, and I don’t want to hurt you.” 

You purse your lips in a thin line, trying to don’t overthink this, but Jeno gets something is wrong. 

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with a bit of help. Also, lube can make things funnier, so why are you sulking?” 

“I’m not, I just — I want to be good like the girls you had be—” 

“No comparing, you are you, and I love you,” he stops you before you can finish, opening the bottle of lubricant but still waiting for your full consent. “Just trust me on this, alright?” 

“Yeah, I trust you,” you breathe out, voice shaking, and as you stare as he pours the cold liquid on his hard dick you realize this might be the smartest choice. Also, you have to remind yourself that porn is fake, and probably not even as funny as they make it out to be, so why would you want to ruin the fun with your boyfriend just to copy it?

“For anything, even if it’s just discomfort, stop me, alright?” 

You nod, feeling your nerves out of your skin, but Jeno wants you down on earth with him, and he needs to hear your voice. “Honey? What do you do if something’s wrong?” 

It takes you a while to realize he’s talking to you and even a bit more to answer. “I tell you,” you stutter, searching for his eyes because this is getting real and all your confidence is falling apart. 

“Good girl,” he praises, kissing you on the lips. 

When the tip of his cock presses against your entrance you know for sure using lube was the best idea he ever had in his entire life. Your jaw slacks, hands immediately reaching his back to sink in the skin of his shoulders as your chest rises heavily. 

“Honey, you’re too tense,” he says, pulling away. 

“No, I’m not,” you cry out, trying to push him in by locking your legs around his waist but he’s stronger than you and doesn’t let you do the dumbest thing you could ever do. 

“We don’t have to do it, you know right?” 

“But I want to,” you whine. “It’s just… big.” 

“Then we can wait.” 

“No, just… ease the tip in and then sink slowly,” you breathe out. 

“But you need to relax,” he says. “Let me do something.” It’s not what you expect him to do, but when his lips start leaving soft pecks on your skin, you can only relax under his attention. “That’s it, princess, loosen up,” he whispers against your neck, trailing down to kiss your chest, noting you’re still dressed in your camisole and he has to move it to have access to your skin. “Can I lift this off? Want to feel you close to me.” 

You hum, nodding your head in small movements as you try to relax your muscles. He quickly takes it off of you before going back to your skin, kissing and sucking, until goosebumps pervade you, distracting you while the fat head of his cock presses against your slit and you barely even notice.  

Jeno hums when he quickly glances up and you’re too lost in pleasure to tighten up around him, but he doesn’t push further in. “Good girl. Here,” he says, searching for your hand on the mattress, “hold my hand.” 

You do as he says, parting your legs when you realize he’s back where he was before, barely inside. “More, please,” you implore, meeting his eyes that turn into half-moons for a brief moment as he smiles back at you. 

He doesn’t ask more questions, afraid of tensing you up again, and pushes past your entrance. 

“Mhh,” you bite back, forcefully trapping your lower lips between your teeth to don’t let out weird sounds. 

Jeno stares at you, trying to study your body as he keeps moving, soothing circles on your waist. He’s barely halfway in and he’s not sure about what to do. 

“It’s… it’s weird,” you mumble, feeling shy when you two make eye contact. 

“Bad weird or good weird?” 

You shrug. “I don’t know, it’s not bad, it doesn’t hurt,” you reassure him. “You can push in, I’m relaxed.” 

You are, your shoulders are not tensed and your legs are parted on your own, your breath is also much more regular than before. So he does, he slowly buttons in, taking your breath away. 

You gasp, head rolling back as you feel full like never before. 

Jeno wants to back away when you start… laughing. “Are you okay?” 

You nod swiftly, “Yeah,” you smile. “It’s… I… I don’t know how to explain this,” you try to reason but truly there’s nothing rational about this. It’s the surprise because you can’t believe it happened and it’s the way it feels as your pussy automatically clenches around him. “I think you can fuck me,” you say, feeling the shame disappear. 

“I can take more time for you to adj—”

“I’m dripping and I’m ready for you, it doesn’t hurt,” you say, cupping his chin. “I’ve panicked about this moment enough, I know what I’m letting you doing.” You truly did, reading around way too much about what the first time felt like, knowing it wasn’t supposed to hurt or bleed like society said, and trusting him enough to do this. 

Jeno fights a chuckle to don’t ruin this completely and starts moving in and out of you. Studying your face with every move, his thrusts are slow at first, not only because he doesn’t want to push you too far, but also because he wants to see your reaction and feel you. Your eyes are closed while your lips are parted to let out the softest whimpers and moans, one hand is still holding his tight while the other is on his shoulder to hold onto him. 

“You’re so pretty,” he whispers, kissing you passionately, starting to pick up a rhythm when you don’t squirm away but your hips roll against his instead. “How does it feel?” 

“Good,” you cry out, “so good.” 

“Yeah? Told you it would feel good,” he groans, hips dragging in and out of you at a steady rhythm. He’d love to go faster, but he doesn’t want to hurt you or turn this into a bad experience. He wants to take it slow, and make you feel loved. “Better than those stupid videos you watch. You don’t need them to learn, they’re bullshit anyway, you have me.”

You groan, trying to hide away as you remember how he had caught you more than once as you tried to learn how to get better at this, no matter how many times he had told you he was there to guide you. “I will — I will disappoint you,” you cry out. 

“Yeah, are you sure?” He hums, kissing you briefly, hitting harder inside you, making you whimper a broken moan. “Then if you’re so afraid you’ll — fuck — disappoint me, it means I’ll have to fuck you more, ugh, how’s that sound?” 

You try to come up with words that make sense, but you hardly can breathe. It feels too much, lost in what’s happening now, and what is yet to happen. The idea he won’t hold back anymore, that at any chance he will try to make you feel good, and you will do too, sending your brain in a spiral. 

“Oh, imagining it already, nasty baby? One taste and you’re already addicted to this?” Jeno mocks playfully, cooing in your ear, sending waves of electricity down your spine. “Next time I won’t fuck you nice and slow on the bed, no,” he chuckles, brushing away the hair that is sticking to your sweating forehead. “I’ll get a bit rougher with you, do you want that?” 

You barely wait for him to finish the sentence and you’re already nodding, gripping harder on his shoulders, nails sinking in his skin, as you already savour the moment. “On the desk,” you utter shyly, slowly parting your eyes to meet his, dark and intense, piercing into your soul. 

He snickers, dick throbbing inside of you because he can’t wait to slowly discover all the little things you secretly fantasize about, he wants to watch your innocence fall apart right in front of his eyes, and he wants to be the one tearing it apart. He wants you to trust him enough to let him inside all your darkest and deepest secrets. 

“You want to be fucked on the desk?” He taunts, lightly slapping your ass, drawing a louder moan from you. “Yeah? Want to be bent over my desk?” 

You nod swiftly, trapping your tongue between your teeth as the intense feeling starts growing more and more in your stomach. “Wa-want you to pull my hair.” You’re not even sure you will like it, but you feel like everything is worth a shot with Jeno, you trust him, and you know he will respect you if you won’t like something. Even harsher things that scare you a bit, they don’t look so scary with him. 

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, rolling his head back, beads of sweat pearling his forehead. “You’ll kill me,” he whispers, teeth gritted as he tries to don’t sound too raw with his moans, but it’s hard when your pussy is gripping him so tight, your face is rolled back in bliss, your boobs are bouncing with his every move, and dirty words are coming out of your mouth. He’s not used to this and your curses, it’s used to your avoiding gazes and your small imprecations that are not curse words. 

You’re not used to this either. It’s like you opened the door to a new world and you don’t quite know how to move in it. There are endless possibilities, and you’d love to grasp them all now, but you can’t. You fear you can barely face what’s coming right now. 

“Weird,” you breathe out, chest heaving quicker as Jeno’s thrusts get faster and the hold of your legs around his waist tightens. “Too much.” 

“It’s not too much, princess. You can take it,” he says, kissing your cheeks. 

“No, it’s — it’s,” you choke on your words ‘cause you can’t quite explain how you’re feeling right now. 

Jeno kisses your lips again, it’s messier than before, and in the tangle of it, he asks if you want him to stop, but you don’t, and you almost scream a negative answer. “Please, no, don’t stop. I just — I feel like — I…” 

“It’s stronger than the other times?” He finishes for you, at least that’s what he can get from the way your body is squirming under him and how much cum is coating his dick. 

You nod, squeezing your eyes hard and opening your mouth to let as much air possible inside of your lungs. “It’s good, it’s so good, but I… I can’t take it.”

“You can, honey, you can,” he whispers, soothing you with circles on your hip. “Breathe deeply, like before.” 

You’d love to curse at him because how can you focus on your breathing during this specific moment? It’s impossible, and you don’t even want to. You like the way you feel upside down, it’s chaotic but good, and you don’t want it to stop. 

You pull him closer, kissing him harder, running your fingers through his hair to stop torturing his poor shoulders. “Want you, please.” 

“I’m here,” he hums. “Come with me?” 

You nod in a non-verbal reply, trying to don’t get overwhelmed by the feeling but it’s difficult, especially when his hand reaches for your clit and starts playing with it, and his moans get louder and messier. He sounds so hot, and that’s the last thing you need to let your pleasure invade you. 

“Jeno,” you scream his name, arching your back off the bed as pleasure runs through your body and soon after the same happens to him, filling you with his cum as he lazily pumps in and out to ride your orgasms. 

“Fuck,” he curses, letting his forehead fall on yours, pushing your legs closer to your chest before his movements come to a stop, and he feels like collapsing on top of you. He doesn’t, he keeps his body up with his elbows as he leaves pecks on your face. 

“Are you alright, love?” Jeno asks after a few seconds and you can only nod, still short of breath. He leaves one more kiss on your lips before pulling out of you, making you sigh at the loss of contact when he rolls to the side and jumps out of bed. “Stay right there,” he says before walking out of the room. 

“As if I can walk,” you giggle in a whisper, feeling your legs wobbly and your heart exploding out of your ribcage. You’re still lost in that daydream when Jeno comes up and starts to clean you up, doing his best to don’t overstimulate you — he’s got time for that.

You don’t say anything, only stare at him while his black hair falls on his forehead and you can’t believe you got so lucky. Once he’s done, he comes by your side, pulling close to his body and leaving kisses on your face. The one that breaks the silence again it’s him. 

“So, how was that? Good as you expected or did it let you down?” 

You giggle, moving your head so you can meet his eyes. “You really think this could’ve let me down?” 

“Well, I don’t know, I thought you were pretty vanilla and there you were, begging me to bend you over and pull your hair,” he chuckles, caressing your cheek. “Maybe your fantasies were different than this.” 

“It was amazing,” you smile, fighting the embarrassment caused by his words as you look at him. “Thank you for waiting for me.” 

Jeno smiles, eyes lighting up before his lips fall on your forehead again. “I would wait for you forever.” 

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