#crazy how one comment can make you want to throw in the towel on everything

[wildemaven]

my mood is meh now, thanks

[honeyedfate]

operation: no hate, just date | 심재윤

pairing. jake sim x idol!gf!reader

the objective is clear—make both of your fans believe that you and jake, in fact, don’t hate each other by convincing them that you’re actually in love. which you are. sadly, jake doesn’t get to shout it from the rooftops like he desperately wants to. instead he’s trapped in an elaborate plan that’s moving at a snail’s pace, but one night on weverse with the boys might speed things up.

genre. fluff & very very mildly suggestive

a/n. this is the second part to loverboy! you can read it by itself if u want but it might be more fun if u don’t lol enjoy! x

it’s been a week since jake and you were pulled aside and shoved into a meeting room where an unforeseen entourage informed him that he sucks at being your boyfriend but makes for a great arch nemesis. he had left that intervention feeling annoyed and his privacy violated, but at least they had a plan. whether that plan is a good one is still up for debate.

grey sweater guy from pr keeps responding to yuki’s plentiful emails with stupid roundabouts of how patience is a virtue and playing the long game always benefits the player. the problem is jake has no patience, and the only person who seems to get it is you.

which is likely why even after the fourth facetime call of the day, his darling-angel of a girlfriend has yet to tell him to piss off. he keeps peeking at his phone, which he has propped up against his pillow, only to begrudgingly return to his scattered lego set, positive he’ll crash out if he doesn’t hear your voice soon.

when the call finally connects and you appear on the screen, it’s like watching the sun rise. jake can feel the tension leaving his body and a lopsided smile curving over his lips. he’s hopeless, really.

you grin through the phone, hands in your hair as you tie it back, and say by way of greeting, “yunjin showed me a tiktok earlier.”

abandoning whatever he was building, jake scoots closer to his phone. “what was it about?”

“us, of course,” you say cheerily, and jake swears his heart skips a beat. not because he’s anxious of what you’re about to say but because it happens every time you refer to him and you as an item. an entity. it’s embarrassing but he kind of likes it. he likes being an idiot for you.

“someone put together a bunch of clips of everything we’ve been doing this week and it blew up on twitter.” you gently rub your oil cleanser over your face.

jake perks up at your words. he didn’t think anyone would’ve noticed any of the stuff he was told to do as part of the stupid plan. an unsettling concoction of excitement and terror swirls in his stomach. “what did they say?” he asks, fiddling with a lego piece.

you take a moment to wipe off your eye makeup, scrunching your nose when jake calls you a panda. “apparently people have been noticing how close we stood on the encore stage and that we kept looking at each other. it’s funny—i didn’t realise in that moment, but when i watched it back it looked like you’re either creeping up on me or you’re extremely terrified.”

jake tilts his head. “terrified of what? you?” he furrows his brows. “i just looked at you a couple of times like they told us to.”

“i know you did.” you turn off the faucet and grab a towel to dry off your face, trying to keep the amusement in your voice at bay. “but, babe, you’re either staring me down—unblinking—or you’re casting glances at me like you’re scared i’ll turn around and jump you.” you can’t help but giggle. “someone commented, ‘i can’t tell if jake is contemplating if he should push y/n off the stage or if he should throw himself off it.’”

jake gawks at you with his mouth agape. “that’s what they’re saying?”

you nod. he falls backward with a groan and covers his faces with his arms. “i can’t believe it. that’s what it looked like to them? really?”

“i know.” you say, more amused than empathetic.

“that’s crazy,” he says, pushing himself upright again, hair sticking out even messier than it had before. “i’m actively trying to act like a lovesick fool—which i am! don’t even—and people still think i’m trying to break your neck? that’s insane.”

you hum supportively. “at least some people believe you were offering to break your own neck for me. that’s romantic, right? we might be on the right track here.” you keep your tone playful, but jake looks at you with his starry eyes and pouty lips, resembling nothing short of a kicked puppy.

“i’m sorry i keep messing this up,” he says and the thinness in his voice makes your heart break.

“jake, you’re not messing anything up.” he looks at his hands, avoiding your gaze. “you can’t control these things, people will interpret and perceive it however they like. it’s always been this way, and it’s always been out of our control. doesn’t mean it’s your fault.”

“i don’t know, y/n,” he says quietly, and the sight of him hanging his head has you nearly sneaking out of the dorms and going over to his. you’ve never seen him look this miserably at a lego set before. “if i wasn’t so awkward and knew what to do, we wouldn’t even be in this mess.”

“no one’s perfect and all-knowing.” you pick up your phone with a frown. “and why do you keep calling it a mess? is that what you think this is?” you enter your room and get into your bed. jake looks up at the sounds of your blanket and wishes desperately he was there with you.

instead, he loosens a breath and sweeps the lego pieces onto the manual, placing it on the floor and going under the blanket as well. “what else should i call it?” he says. “it’s not a blessing.”

you ponder his words. “a mess would be our sex tape getting leaked or people making up rumours that we’re drug dealers or cannibals.”

jake cocks his head. “like hannibal?”

“i meant more like in ‘bones and all’ but sure.”

“oh.” he scratches his face. “well, we’re neither of those things. we also don’t have a sex tape.” the corner of his mouth quirks up.

“no, we don’t.” you pout, forcing a mock sigh. “but we could always make one? ‘operation: no hate, no date,’ am i right?” you waggle your eyebrows at him, prompting a wry smile to flicker across his face.

“they’ll watch it and come to the conclusion that i hate you even more.”

you huff a laugh. “we will probably also get kicked out of hybe and have to start slinging fishcakes on the street. which sounds like fun, to be honest. oh! we could make our own jingle and sing it for our customers. maybe we won’t even have to make the fishcakes if we’re successful enough.”

this earns you a laugh. “that’s just busking, baby. what you want to do is busk.”

you gasp in fake surprise before settling for a rueful sigh. “i am but an artist.”

jake presses his lips together as if to say ‘good riddance, what tragic calling’ with a saddened face before the two of you dissolve into giggles.

“okay, i get it.” he turns to lie on his side, face squished against his pillow. “going from idol to man with leaked sex tape who sings on the street and runs an unsuccessful fishcake stand would be a mess. but this is not?”

“correct.”

“i’m so relieved then.” he grins toothily at you and, of course, you reciprocate it. an involuntarily yawn slips through your lips and jake coos at you.

“is my girl tired after working hard all day?”

“she’s exhausted,” you affirm with bleary eyes. “you seem chipper for someone who’s usually drooling on his pillow by midnight.”

jake shrugs. “i’m not sleepy yet.”

you hold back another yawn. “do you want me to stay awake until you are?”

he smiles at you fondly, relishing in the softness of your drowsy voice. “it’s all right. you should go to sleep, baby.” he glances at the clock on his phone. “i think i’ll go live for a bit. haven’t done one in a while.”

“aren’t we feeling chatty tonight,” you tease, eyes fully closed now. jake swears he actually dies at how cute you look and smashes that screenshot button repeatedly. “i’ll leave you to it then. greet engenes for me.”

he grimaces. “if i do that, you’ll get your jingle and fishcake dreams fulfilled by tomorrow morning because we’ll both be unemployed.”

“sounds lovely.” you rub your eyes.

“yeah,” jake merely whispers, attention span momentarily off the rails as his doting gaze traces your face. he takes another screenshot for good measure. “good night, pretty girl,” he says tenderly, raspy voice and all. “see you tomorrow for the dance challenge and the fishcakes.”

a giggle bubbles out of you, and you crack your eyes open to offer your best, dozy smile. “and the busking. don’t forget the busking.”

“i would never. i’ll even steal one of jay’s guitars.”

you nod, pleased. “we’ll be on the run like bonnie and clyde. except for all the atrocities, of course.”

jake helplessly swoons. “i love you.”

“i love you too. good night, baby.”

the intensity at which his pulse quickens and his stomach tumbles needs to be studied because it should not be humanly possible to be so goddamn whipped. he’s not ashamed to admit that he could write lines upon lines of poetry right now just to ode your every quality and marvel at the curve of your mouth.

again, hopeless. but he’s more than okay with it.

so what if he flips onto his stomach right after the call ends, smiling blissfully into his pillow and kicking his feet? he might not be a lover boy, but he is in love.

with that same crooked smile that is probably etched onto his face forever, he opens the weverse app on his phone and opts for a voice live. as the first few people pool in, he gets lost in mindless chatter. it’s always nice to do lives at night. mainly because they make him drowsy.

at some point, he gets up for the bottle on his desk, hoping that chugging some water will wake him up. but when he returns to his bed and glances at his phone, comments keep flooding in at a speed that make them very hard to read.

“what’s this?” he chuckles nervously. “what happened? i just went to get some water.”

enhaswife: jungwon is live!! go live with him plss

sim hitomi: jungwonnie is live~~

xo, liz: CAN U GO LIVE WITH JUNGWON ‼️

“jungwonnie is live?” jake raises a brow. “that’s actually pretty early for him. it’s not even one yet.” he settles back into his bed. “i was here first though, so you guys have to tell him to come. tell him to come send a request.”

he watches the number of viewers decline rapidly, all of them seemingly leaving to do his bidding. he wields too much power and it might actually go to his head, he thinks to himself in amusement. “i told him,” he reads out loud. “i told him, he’s coming, i told him. you guys are so cute.”

not long after, the request pops up and jake is quick to accept it. his screen splits in two before jungwon’s eager face appears before him.

“yooiii,” jake greets him with a wide smile.

“yoooiiii,” jungwon practically shouts into his phone with excitement that is more appropriate for daylight hours. “what’s this? why aren’t you showing your face, hyung? are you naked?”

“what?” jake guffaws, adjusting his phone. “no, my hair’s just all over the place. engenes don’t need to see me like this.”

“oh, okay.” jungwon nods understandably as his eyes flit over the computer screen before him. the song that’s currently playing in the background changes to a more calm melody, and jake sinks further into his blanket, nearly letting out a moan at how snug he feels. “he’s bald, by the way.”

jake jolts so hard he nearly tumbles out of his bed.

“jungwon!” he watches as the comments explode into chaos. “oh my god, what have you done.”

the younger boy ignores him. “ni-ki shaved his head after practice, you know. he got the clippers from hair and makeup and went right at it. they weren’t too happy about it, but it went well. thankfully, i am so happy to announce that our hyung does not have an egghead.”

jake burst out laughing, glimpsing how jungwon’s smile expands with delight when he hears it. “i nearly lost an ear, but yes. all’s good.”

“he gave his hair to jay,” jungwon continues for no apparent reason except to bring jay into this. “he put it in a nice ziplock bag and gave it to him. jay almost cried. he was really touched.”

jake is clutching his sides, trying to keep his laughter down. before he can speak, a highlighted message pops up in the comments.

JAY: Ya! Why are you ruining my image

JAY: When jake gave me his bag of hair I wept

JAY: I wept.

JAY: Get your facts straight punk

“hyung!” jungwon says delightfully. “you’re here too. what’s going on, why are we all awake? is this a party?”

“it’s just us three here,” jake remarks, still chuckling. “what party only has three guests?”

jungwon shrugs. “i’ve never been to one.”

JAY: Me neither

jake cups his neck, deciding to join them despite the fact that there are plenty of pictures of them at several afterparties. “me neither.”

JAY: Wow

“wooow,” jungwon echoes, lips tugging into a smirk. jake frowns. did he miss something? before he can address it, a comment stands out to him.

“yes, we are a sad bunch,” he says jokingly in response to it. “you’re breaking my heart, engenes. no need to rub it in.”

jungwon snickers. “these comments are so fun tonight. i usually only get song recommendations. seriously, what’s happening? where are all my engenes who ask me to play chamber 5 for the eighth time?”

JAY: It’s because I’m here

JAY: I bring the smart ones

JAY: Also can you play chamber 5

“it’s my live.” jake scoffs when he reads jay’s comments. “they were here before you two came, and we always have very stimulating discussions.”

that’s not true. earlier’s heated topic of conversation was whether a tiger or a tiger shark would win in a fight. but jungwon and jay don’t need to know that.

“oh, hey, we’re tripple j,” jake randomly observes while suppressing a yawn.

“we are!” jungwon says enthusiastically. “the moment jay came in, all the comments were saying tripple j. imagine if all of our names started with a j. septuple j!”

JAY: Junghoon

JAY: Jeeseung, junoo, ji-ki

JAY: Annyeonghasaeyo, jenhypen-imnida

jake snorts. he glances at the time and lets another yawn overtake him. “guys, i think i’ll go to sleep. i can barely hold my eyes open.”

“i was waiting for you to say that,” jungwon quips.

“oh?” jake pushes himself up to fluff his pillow. “why? do i sound tired?”

JAY: Ow hay weor wibble j

jake furrows his brows, nearly suffering a stroke trying to read that. “hah. you’re funny.”

JAY: yoar wonny

“ahjussi, please go to bed,” jake says fondly and pulls his blanket up to his ears, letting it almost swallow him. “you’re talking gibberish again.”

JAY: :(((

jungwon ignores them, typing away on his keyboard. “i think i’ll continue my live for a bit if engenes want to join me.”

“yes, keep him company, guys.” jake yawns once more and quickly skims the comments one last time. his mind has become delirious, not really making sense of any of the words on his screen. he’s no longer thinking straight. he’s not thinking, period. which might be why his focus zeroes in on your name as it passes by.

he scrolls back up, looking for it, and finds himself reading it out loud without a second thought.

“do you want me to fight y/n for you?”

he lets his arm fall over his eyes with a funny expression on his face that no one can see and that he’s not even aware of. a mental image of you occupies half of his mind while the other half has simply shut off.

chuckling, he replies, “nah, i can take her.”

it goes quiet in the room as jake’s breathing evens out and jungwon’s typing slows down.

“hyung,” he says with emphasis, a warning tone laced in his voice. jake blinks an eye open, way too tired to grasp the gravity of what he has done. jungwon, on the other hand, is close to breaking out in hives as the comments go ballistic.

jay is not of much help either. he has left the live to message the group chat, asking if they’re now in trouble and if they’re going to kidnap you and jake again. from what jungwon can gauge based on the rapid fire notifications he’s getting, jay’s coming in clutch with quotes and screenshots of the comments, and heeseung’s immediate reaction is to cackle away.

enhaswife2: wiat whaT DID HE JUST SAY

myseven: oh REALLY >:( y/n count ur days

sunoo’s gf: you sure about that? I can fight

xiiuu7: leave y/n to me, i can handle her for you

jake reads the comments through fluttering eyes, somehow finding it all very entertaining. “oh, i take her just fine, thanks.” he rolls onto his stomach, eyes closed, smiling like an idiot, and mutters into his pillow, “i’ve handled her in more ways you can—”

his door slams open.

not a second later, jungwon stands before him in his pyjamas and snatches his phone out of his hands, breathing heavily. it lands next to jake on his pillow with a thud. screen now black.

“hyung, have you gone mad?!” jungwon stares down at him in bewilderment, his own phone in his hand lightening up every microsecond. “are you actually insane? why would you say that into the microphone?”

jake blinks up at him. “what?”

another person joins them. “what’s going on?” sunoo’s socked feet pad over the floor as he pulls down his headphones, regarding the two of them carefully. “i heard doors slamming.”

wordlessly, jungwon passes him his unlocked phone. it’s opened to a twitter account transcribing and translating in real time what had just been said on their live, including jake’s slurred but still perfectly understandable words. in other words, stan twitter is going insane.

sunoo gasps, eyes widening with each tweet as he scrolls and scrolls and scrolls. he’s reading all kinds of things—engenes who are losing it and speaking of you, your group, and your fans as if there’ll be a sword fight at dawn.

your fans who are thoroughly disoriented and confused but ready to go for blood anyway because ‘what does he MEAN he can take her?? take her WHERE?????’

and people who don’t even listen to either group but are dying over the comedic timing of jake uttering those words, jungwon hurling himself out of his chair, his footsteps thumping in the hallway, the doors banging, and the live ending all under two minutes.

some people also seem to believe that jake is bald for some reason? sunoo shakes his head in disbelief. it’s like the internet has been bored for too long, and this has revived them.

an eternity must’ve passed now, and jungwon is still lecturing a very sleepy jake whose words and actions have finally caught up to him when sunoo suddenly yelps. he practically tosses the phone in the air, and both boys turn their attention to him. with a gulp, sunoo flips the screen around and holds it at an arm’s length.

“yuki is calling.”

jungwon exchanges a look with jake before he grabs his phone. “hello?” he says, clearing his throat. sunoo leans in to try and listen. jake, on the other hand, stays frozen on his bed, not even daring to breathe.

a heavy sigh sounds on the other line. “jungwon?”

“…yes?”

“there’s a change of plans.”

[lunaecoll]

trigun guys with a plus sized reader ! ◡̈

vash, wolfwood, knives, livio & razlo, and legato !

i feel like there is a criminal lack of plus sized representation and i need that to change asap!

mentions of ; can be read as pre-established relationships or not, body insecurity, skipping meals, non-sexual touching (but you can definitely read it as sexual touching cause oh goodness gracious!!!!),

VASH ;

- vash has a preference for chubby people when looking for a romantic partner, chubby people always seem to catch his eyes first! he loves the way clothes hug you just right and make you look even more irresistible

- he loves everything about you. your strech marks and curves, and how your and him seem to fit together like puzzle pieces. he loves it when you wear revealing or tight clothes, it shows off your spectacular body AMAZINGLY and he has to hold himself back from doing some.. unholy things !

- your tummy makes such a great pillow after a long day of walking in the scorching desert

- if he hears you talking negatively about yourself he immediately jumps to the rescue. his hands coming up to rest on your sides, his thumbs caressing over your rolls and strech marks as he kisses you over and over, whispers of praise slipping through his lips between every kiss.

- vash has a habit of skipping meals whenever he’s upset, and if he sees you doing the same he feels his heart shatter for you. he offers to buy you ANY food you want, even if it’s from a place an hour away or he’s a little short on money. if you don’t want anything from any restaurants, he’ll offer to cook for you! even though he’s not the best cook, he can make a mean boxed mac and cheese!

NICHOLAS D. WOLFWOOD ;

- i have a personal headcanon that wolfwood has a dad bod! he has a cute little tummy that he can’t seem to shake, and he’s overall soft all around. (his thighs especially awwoooooogaaaa…)

- wolfwood thinks body fat is sexy as hell. unlike vash, he’s a bit more handsy and almost perverted (respectfully though. if you are ever uncomfortable with it he stops IMMEDIATELY.)

- he likes to pinch your sides, slap your ass, pinch at your rosy cheeks, and he constantly has an arm slung around your shoulders or waist. he physically cannot keep his hands off of you.

- when the gang gets a hotel for the night, you and wolfwood usually stay in the same room together. wolfwood loves watching you come out of the shower, towel wrapped around you, water beading down you in the most enticing way. wolfwood has to excuse himself for a while.. wink wink!

- wolfwood is extremely protective of you. if he hears ANYONE mention a backhanded comment on your body, he is throwing hands. he will absolutely destroy them, and he won’t even blink an eye. he’s so crazy for you, and he isn’t afraid to show that.

- if he catches you skipping meals or under feeding yourself, he gets protective again. he’ll give you a stern look, sit you down, and force you to eat. it isn’t the BEST way, but he isn’t good at emotions, especially sappy ones. he’ll do anything to see you eat, even if it makes him look desperate. (he is by the way.)

- he’ll offer to do anything for you to eat. he’ll offer to spoon feed you, offer you a distraction so you can eat without a worry, anything. nothing is too big of a request if it means you’ll eat and be healthy.

MILLIONS KNIVES ;

- knives does not care about your body shape, at all. he thinks all humans are pitiful, all of their shapes and sizes are irrelevant to him. (he is in love with you…)

- knives, a lot like his brother, especially likes chubby people. he doesn’t admit it, but you can tell.

- you can tell by the way he looks at you, the way his gaze lingers on you. one thing about you that he especially likes is your stretch marks. your marks remind him of his marks, and he undeniably really likes it. if you’ll allow it, he likes to run his fingers across your stretch marks.

- knives doesn’t understand human beauty standards. he doesn’t understand the dislike around stretch marks, cellulite, big thighs, a big tummy, etc etc. knives sees those things as irrelevant to him.

- knives isn’t a man who relies on actions to express himself, and if he catches you not eating he won’t confront you at all. you will, however notice more small snacks placed in your room on your nightstand. the snacks are always ones that you’re particularly fond of, some of them being your favorite. if he sees you eating them, you’ll notice a small smile playing on his lips.

LIVIO THE DOUBLE FANG ;

- LIVIO IS CHUBBY! HE’S A BIG BOY!!!!!! SZA WROTE THAT SONG ABOUT HIM AND HIM ONLY!!!!!!

- livio is a softie, he’s such a softie for you. just looking at you makes him weak in the knees and suddenly feeling really hot. he is smitten for you, everything about you. livio could care less about you being bigger, he loves you regardless of any physical traits!

- livio is very easily flustered around you, no matter what you’re wearing. you could wear a trashbag out to dinner, and livio will be on his knees worshipping you (as usual.) he doesn’t have any favorite clothes he likes to see you in, but his favorite thing is when you’re confident and comfortable. no matter what you wear, he will be a flustered mess, sputtering out flushed compliments as he looks everywhere but you because you’re so breathtaking.

- livio loves when you wear things that make you feel good! he thinks confident is the sexiest thing in the world, especially on you. livio is intimidating to people who don’t know him, so even if you wear the most revealing thing, nobody will say anything.

- if he notices you skipping meals, he comforts you in anyway that you need. he’ll hold you to his chest, rocking you back and forth. he lets you cry, scream, whatever you need to do to feel better. when you’re ready to eat, livio will eat with you. he’ll do anything to make sure you feel good, holding your hand, letting you sit with him on the couch, nothing is too big of a request for him (especially if it means seeing you happy.)

RAZLO THE TRI-PUNISHER OF DEATH ;

(there is such a criminal lack of razlo content. i am determined to fix this btw!!!!!)

- razlo is like wolfwood but he’s so much more perverted and extroverted with it, he finds you so undeniably sexy.

- razlo is definitely a thigh and ass man. he loves slapping and squeezing your ass (with your consent of course.), and he especially loves squeezing your thighs.

- seeing you in shorts drives this man fucking wild. he will be so distracted, eyes constantly drawn to your ass and thighs as he dumbly nods and mumbles in reply. good luck talking to him because it takes him a good few minutes to even register your words, and then a few extra words to even get his words out.

- if anyone comments on your body, razlo will beat the shit out of them. he literally doesn’t care, he will destroy them. no one shit talks you like that.

- if he notices you’re skipping meals or eating less, this is when his soft side really shows for the first time. he’s an emotional softie.

- he’ll run his hands up and down your body, but with no sexual intent (at that moment.) he takes his sweet time as he presses kisses to every spot on your body. he traces his fingers on your stretch marks, and all the while he’s mumbling out praises. they’re not over the top praises, but ones like “you’re so sexy”, etc. (he���s not a softie like vash)

LEGATO BLUESUMMERS ;

(im just gonna say, i didnt like legato until i read his backstory on the wiki and now im like really sad……)

- legato is canonically gluttonous which is kinda teehee (love me a man with a big appetite)

- he appreciates someone with a big appetite its really attractive to him. he especially loves if you love food as much as he does, and you get even more points if you can COOK. legato will be at the table with a fork and knife and napkin tucked into his shirt for your food TT

- legato genuinely loves your body. everything you wear is incredibly sexy to him, it makes him insane. he’s that meme where its like “wear whatever you want, i can fight.”

- legato is so genuinely mesn to people who shit talk you. he’ll gently guide you away and use his power things whatever to snap their BONES BRO!!!!

- he’s not an affectionate or sentimental guy at all. if he catches you not eating, he will ask you to cook for him. while you’re cooking, he’ll slyly make comments about how he’s “so excited to share a meal together”, implying he wants you to eat with him.

- if you’re still not eating, legato will be like “this tastes good. here, try some.” and bring a forkful to your lips. he will make sure you take a bite, and another, and another, until his plate is gone. even if he doesnt get to eat, seeing you healthy is like the sweetest dessert.

[gatheringfiki]

12 Days of Christmas - PSA

Folks, I need an opinion and to know where you're at!

Today is the first day we start posting our photosets. The honest take of the situation at the back of the shop is this: I have 5 ready photosets with stories. I think I can make it to 6 and still just about get enough responses for the last one. That's the minimum I can commit to right now.

And I was pretty much ready to throw in the towel last night, queue the whole lot and start posting our photosets and responses every 2 days, making it effectively 6 days of Christmas, but evenly distributed.

However! Then my Muse went: Surrender?! NEVER! Watch this! So then it was 4 am in the morning, but I now have: 5 ready photosets, 5 that are at least 50% done and 4 that are started and have some sort of idea to them. However, I also have my dad coming over for a visit in 2 days, and lots of cleaning, cooking and baking to do between now and then. So everything that follows is on the best endeavours only, for bonus points, and on the understanding that 6 photosets MIGHT be all I can swing this year.

My other option is this: post photosets daily, so the next 5 days we have covered, until the 18th of Dec. During that time hope to hell that I can finish off the remaining 7 photosets (my Muse might bite again tonight and they'll all be done more or less together, or we could go back to agonising about it for days and achieve nothing. Who knows?!). Then hope to hell that we still have writers available to write for them as they become available (that's you). Post the remaining 7 in the sequence from the ones with most stories to the ones with least, to give maximum time. 12 Days of Christmas mischief managed!

So I need to know what your availability is like from now on until Christmas, and if you're up for continuing writing some for some more photosets that may or may not become available.

Comments are also very much welcome! Let me know your thoughts.

The first photoset is queued, so you have like 24 hours to decide if there should be a break after that, or if we're all doing this at level: hard!

Apologies about this crazy situation and putting you all under pressure like this. It's been a funny year.

~gatheringfiki

[shiny-jr]

I fumkin love ur fic The Devil so much, love ur oc charlemagne and i gort SO down bad for him, very sadge to see that not a lot of people talkinf about him or the fic in general in tumblr but man that fic in quotev do have a gorilla grip on me that i would reread it back to back every saturday and sundays. Like, charlie is the blorbo from my yandere fic authors that i would want to chew up like a beloved dog toy, knead him like bread dough, let him rise and bake him at 400f for 15 minutes. Soak him with milk and suck the milk out like that one Webkinz toy and throw him against the wall to make a wet thud, wring him like a towel and clamp him down between my teeth and shake at breakneck speeds like those feral dogs , elbow bomb him like a WWE wrestler, put him in a meat grinder and make Charlemagne sausages,,, words alone cannot describe how much that man makes my brain go brr as in jackhammer obliterating tiled floors brr

It gives me some th0ts that wjat if tje mc somehow got into this groundhog type of situation and wakes up on the day where charlie would propose to her with expensive chunky ring. Id think after going thru all the shitstorm she would learn that "okay, maybe he is the greatest detective of all time, rivaling batman" and knows rhat if she drops everything and run, he is jusr going to find her and ruin everything again anyways

So she says yea sure go nuts, but there is that flavour of fear to whenever shes around him, im pretty sure anyone who is partially sentient can pick up on the vibe , especially charlie

Whenever he gives affection or gifts it woild be met with nervousness like mc is about to shit herself out of trembling so hard, but out of sheer fear and anger and hatred

Whenever he tries to ask what's wrong mc would simply dismiss his concerns and kinda gaslight him, saying he is crazy for thinking that something is wrong, the gaslighting done out of revenge and instinct to survive

I feel like that would be a mindfuck for him, i wonder if he would eventually just get used to it or he would smoke so much that he grows an extra pair of lungs cause the carcinogens mutated him so much that he went through rapid forced evolution

Of course, mc probably had to sacrifice her happiness with Elian and the pups, but i guess it should be temporary until charlie rests in pieces due to stress and confusion, but then the mc would also be in pieces from having her CPU on 100% everyday

Whoop another groundhog day event, mc just straight up murders him with the wine glass when she wakes up on the day he proposes to her again, unprompted, maybe even going all john wick and kill him with a pencil after sketching the final coat design

Also mans is lucky he is in the 70's, no doubt hes getting cancelled to hell if he is like in the 2020's

I can't tell if he would be the type to wear a hazmat or astronaut suit during the pandemic or he would brush the cheeky touch of the virus off as a mere cold, being anti vax and all

Makes me think about how he would react with social media and stuff, i kinda headcannon that he would obsessively read his comment section cause he loves feeling angy , but maybe he would simply not, cause as an influencer or celebrity, first rule is to never look at the comment section

Perhaps if you directly bring the 70's Charlie to modern days, he would go insane over social media and how much people talk about public figures

I also headcannon that a massive chunk of his regular business budget is allocated towards lawsuits too, cauae wirh all the stunts he is pulling publicly im pretty sure sometimes its just cheaper and more effective to pay the lawsuit than go on long shady battles wirh them, you know like how that "life hack" where you send a billionaire your wedding invitation and chances are they're going to give you gifts despite literally not knowing who you are? Yea that

I feel like if he is broight into modern modern times, his PR team would be working over time, crying, throwing up, shitting with all the crap he pulls. Everyone is bald from stress, everyone aged into an octogenarian and they have like a pager like surgeons where it alerts them whenever charlie does some silly shit and rhey have to do immediate damage control

Like he would spend hundreds of hours probably feeding the trolls and doxxing them too, nightmare for anyone on his marketing and PR team

But i might be wrong , he probably knows better and just ignores them

If he is 25 in like around 1974 (i assume thats when it takes place), he must be like 74 in 2023 and he would still slay the house down while battling arthritis and chronic bronchitis like yes hater king, go off 👏👏

Imagine though, 74 years old pulling stunts like how he did with mc in prosa, just need to pop a couple painkillers and go committing entering and breaking with their elderly walkers, maybe even with turbo wheelchairs

I feel like he would make his own Charlemagne brand electronics, and call it Charlemobile which comes built in with adware for his products only, like a popup ad keeps distracting you telling you to praise him and he would definitely 100% steal your information, like he is the only electronic manufacturer where you should read the terms and conditions word per word if you don't want to end up on craigslist one day

On the softer side, i feel like Charlie would prepare your medications when the both of you gets old and reminds you to eat it ❤️

Mc would try to sneak in a cyanide pill from time to time for his set of medications but have a sneaking suspicion that he might be immune to them cause of microdosing from years of assassination attempts

But lets muddle up the timeline again, i wonder like, will Charlie still kidnap mc even tho shes abstinent? Like no interest in dating other people, or interest in her dogs or interest in having children, she does her own NPC thing. But religiously rejects Charlie like muscle memory from clicking the "X" on a popup ad, will he still snap or will he just sees it as "oh well i can work with this"

Or like mc gets so spooked with all this groundhog day thing that she moves back in with the parents and refuses to budge, becomes a NEET,, will he still kidnap her ? Or kidnap her family in a twist of events

If they ever get married would he let mc see her family or is it a "god i fuckin hate my in laws , we are not going to the barbeque" type of deal?

I also keep thinking about the engagement announcement party near the end of the book, cause im a gal who has a really reactive bowel when nervous or uncomfortable or feeling strong emotions in general, i was thinking what if during the entire thing mc is stuck in the toilet and missed everything , including Elian and Charlie's top 5 freakouts of all time, so while you nuked the toilet, charlie nukes the whole place down. That would be funny i think

But yeah literally if i were in the story i would spend a great deal of time jailed to a toilet, i would literally miss every show of his because out of anger shits, i feel that would make him smoke a couple extra cigarettes that day and maybe even cry because it is force of nature, he cant conquer nature

Or can he? 👀

I feel like if this happens in the 1920's Charlie would consider lobotomizing mc but im glad its in the 70's

Do u think he would binge watch trashy TV reality shows and clutch his pearls whenever drama happens

Wow this is a long waffle, thanks for reading and until then, i shall be painfully yearning for more Charlemagne content

- Charlemagne Simp Anon (can i claim this anon pls)

Holy shit. Okay. When I saw how long this ask was, my eyes went wide like. My dude, this is a whole essay. I gotta put it under a special tag because I think this is the longest ask I've ever gotten and there's a lot of funny stuff from this. It's so wild to me that you would reread it so often?? That whole first paragraph really just shocked me.

These are a lot of thoughts you bring. A lot. Most I'm not even sure how to react to or how to respond. The part about his age though got me, because I know for a fact that Charlemagne would still be pulling crazy stunts at that age, like crashing the biggest fashion galas despite being on the ban list specifically because he's caused scenes in the past. Also, he would 100% watch horrible reality tv shows and clutch his pearls.

Unfortunately, I don't plan to make any Charlemagne content for the future, unless I had this groundbreaking idea and I see that The Devil reaches another milestone.

[abandonedaccount1234]

WIP: Buddie Fic

I haven't completed a fic in months. So many drafts with just a few lines or paragraphs. I've been in an emotional slump.I don't know if this will go anywhere but I had an idea and the words just started flowing.

Based on Louis Tomlinson's Only For The Brave

Synopsis: Buck is on cloud nine when him and Eddie are finally get together. Everything is almost right in the world. Life can't be perfect, he's working on accepting that. As Hen would say, "Our little Buck is growing up." He just didn't expect life to throw him a teenage daughter he's never met while he's falling in true love for the first time. Neither of them could have been prepared for what's about to happen.

Chapter 1: Cloud Nine

You know how they say, "when it rains, it pours?"

Well, this tale is gonna be whole new level of what-the-actual-fuck universe.

Buck had finally told Eddie how he was feeling. It wasn't dramatic. It was actually quite spontaneous and soft.

After a particularly weird call and only a week long sexuality crisis , Buck just couldn't keep it in anymore. He didn't keep secrets from Eddie, that was a promise they made.

If they were gonna live together, he had the right to know how he felt so he could call it off if it made him uncomfortable. So Buck could leave town, change is name, and try not to die of a literal broken heart.

And okay, maybe the crisis came from something his therapist had said about how he needed to open his eyes and accept himself for who he was. Maddie making comments about how she never thought she'd get married again before 'you two idiots' do.

It was in Eddie's kitchen where he professed. Eddie was going on about the phone call he had with his sister about the crazy teenage drama his niece had found herself in while they were doing the dishes. He handed Buck a plate to dry but he just stared at him.

"What? Is something wrong?"

"It's either very wrong or very good. Kind of depends how you feel."

"What ridiculous thing did you buy for the house without asking?"

The house in question was also not planned. Neither was the two of them living together. But, it was a great price. In a great neighborhood near Chris's school. Buck was getting tired of living in an apartment. He showed Eddie the property online consisting of the main house, back yard, and guesthouse. They both fell in love with it.

Eddie was also in need of a new place after his landlord had weirdly joined what he believes is a cult. Decided to sell all his belongings and live with some friends in the woods. He has so many questions and so little answers. They were all given a generous 6 months to find somewhere new (as well as brochures for these new hippie homes they were building.) Buck said he'd found a property with a guest house that they could stay in if they ever needed it. His trust fund would surely cover it.

The previous owners, partners of 55 years, were very particular about who got their place. Wanted it to go to a nice family. The 2 women were skeptical when Buck had toured the place alone and said he didn't have a wife or kids of his own.

But when he came back with Eddie, who apologized for being late after dropping Chris off at a friend's, they gave one look at each other and said the house could be theirs. They owned a furniture store so they threw in a free couch with the offer.

It was here Buck set the dish down and lazily tossed the drying towel on the counter. "I need to tell you something."

Can be continued right here:

go follow my regular blog if you like: fangirlie1111

Hope you like it!

[sluttywonwoo]

the bet || j.ww x reader

Summary: you help your boyfriend’s best friend win a bet against your better judgement

Warnings: swearing, lil bit of jealousy, light smut (18+) 

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: originally posted on my tom holland fic account ( @wazzupmrstark )

Masterlist

“Hey, can I ask a huge favor?”

You hoisted yourself up from your beach towel onto your elbows and pulled down your sunglasses to glare at the boy in front of you. You narrowed your eyes at him in suspicion. What could Kim Mingyu possibly want from you?

“What is it?”

He ran a hand through his still-wet hair awkwardly. “Um, the boys and I are about to play a game of volleyball, and we’ve bet some money on it…”

“Okay?”

“And, well, it’s me and Hansol against Wonwoo, Soonyoung, and Seungkwan. Wonwoo’s their best player and I was wondering if you could distract him? So that we have a better chance of winning?”

“Distract him… how?” you asked, not fully understanding.

“You know… whatever it is you do that drives Wonwoo crazy. He’s your boyfriend, I’m sure you know how to wind him up.”

“You mean you want me to get him hard during your game?”

Mingyu nearly choked at that. “Um, I mean pretty much, yeah. Just do something that will throw him off his game.”

“So you want me to help you guys cheat?”

“It’s not technically cheating.”

“I think your definition of cheating is much looser than mine.”

“So is that a no?” he asked.

You thought about it for a second. “Is there anything in it for me?”

“We’ll give you a cut of the winnings.”

You found yourself grinning. “How much did you guys bet?”

“Two hundred if they win, three hundred if we win. Basically whoever’s on the losing team has to cough up a hundred bucks.”

“Jeez, I can’t believe Wonwoo is risking that much on a stupid game.”

“Are you upset?”

“No, it’s his money he can do whatever he wants with it. I just think he’s a dumbass.”

“Not arguing with that.”

“Do you need me to remind you that you’re betting the same amount?”

“Fair enough,” he chuckled. “So you’ll do it? For a hundred?”

“Yeah, you’ve got yourself a deal.”

“Pleasure doing business.” Mingyu smirked and held out his hand for you to shake. You rolled your eyes at the formality but shook his hand anyway, just as Wonwoo came up to the both of you and clapped Mingyu on the shoulder.

“What are my best mate and my best girl talking about?” he asked, leaning down to kiss you.

“I wanted to go swimming, but Mingyu said you guys are about to play volleyball?” You piped up before Mingyu could say anything. Maybe you should’ve felt guiltier than you did about lying to your boyfriend and for what you were about to do, but hey, a hundred dollars was a hundred dollars . And if everything went according to plan, you’d be getting some good dick too. A win win.

Wonwoo frowned a little bit. “Oh yeah, sorry. Wanna play, love?” he offered. “There’s still some room on Mingyu’s team.”

You made a face. “What about your team? Can’t you make one of your other team members switch?”

He winced. “I love you, y/n, but you’re shit at sports.”

Any trace of remorse left over what you’d agreed to do dissolved in that moment. He fucking deserved what he was about to get.

“The stupid game is that important to you? Asshole,” you scoffed, and put your sunglasses back on before laying back down on the towel.

“Y/n,” Wonwoo whined, and crouched down next to you. “I-”

“Go play your fucking game.”

He stood back up, but lingered for a moment. You could tell he felt bad, but you weren’t having it. “Wanna go swimming after?” he asked in a quiet voice.

“Sure, whatever.”

You could tell he’d walked away when the shadow over you disappeared. You weren’t going to lie to yourself, you were a little pissed about the comment he’d made. Were you shit at sports? Yes, definitely, but could he have at least pretended to love you enough to be on the same team as you? Also yes. He should’ve known you were going to say no anyway.

While you were still fuming you hadn’t even realized the boys had started the game. Not even a minute in and you were already slacking on your end of the bet. You propped yourself back up for a moment to watch. You could see why Mingyu had asked for your help. Wonwoo and his team were dominating so far, and you couldn’t help but admire how fit your boyfriend looked as he served the ball to the other side of the court. You licked your lips absentmindedly, ready to pull him back to the car right fucking then.

You forced yourself to stop watching the game stood up from your towel, brushed yourself off, and began walking towards the water. You made sure to pull your bikini bottoms as far up your ass as you could in the process just to get Wonwoo’s attention as you walked past the volleyball net. Sure, you’d agreed to go swimming with him after the match, but you’d never promised to wait for him.

As you made your way down to the shore, you noted that not only Wonwoo’s head turned to watch you walk, but all five of the boys cast their attention away from the game and towards you. You glanced behind your shoulder for a second, and caught Mingyu’s smirk. He took advantage of Wonwoo’s lapse in concentration to spike the ball back over to their side and score a point.

You heard some yelling and protestation, but pretended to ignore it and continued to wade into the water.

It was warmer than you thought it would be, and deeper. There was a steep drop a few feet in that you might have tripped over if you weren’t careful. You only ended up staying in the ocean for a few minutes; Wonwoo couldn’t really get distracted by you if your whole body was submerged underwater. You weren’t there to swim around anyway, just to get your bathing suit wet so it would stick to your body.

You’d worn one that didn’t have pads in it so you knew that once you got out of the water the whole beach would be able to see your nipples poking through the fabric. You didn’t have a problem with that. Wonwoo might.

While you were down there you got your hair wet too, just for good measure. Might as well pull out all the stops since a hundred dollars were on the line.

You weren’t sure what the score was by the time you made your way back up to your towel, but you didn’t make an effort to ask. What you did know, though, was that Wonwoo was getting frustrated. Even from where you were you could see that his jaw was clenched and his brows were furrowed.

The opposing team seemed to be doing just fine though, and you stopped to watch them high-five each other after Mingyu scored another point by slamming the ball over the net onto Wonwoo side of the court.

“Damn, nice one, Gyu!” you called out from where you were standing, giving him a big smile and thumbs up. It was sort of dorky, not to mention a cheap shot, but if you knew Wonwoo as well as you thought you did, it’d be the perfect thing to rile him up.

“Thanks, y/n!” he shouted back and winked, ignoring the weird look Hansol gave him. “It’s about time you started rooting for the winning team!”

You struggled not to laugh when you looked back over to the other side of the court and saw all three boys scowling at Mingyu. You didn’t even know why he needed you in the first place, he knew how to push their buttons so well already.

Wonwoo’s fists were clenched now, and he looked this close to tackling his best friend to the ground. The two of you weren’t even flirting with each other, not really, but Wonwoo was the most competitive person you knew and it wasn’t always the best color on him. For you to be cheering for the team that he’s not on, and for that team to be winning- there was no doubt in your mind that he was royally pissed. Not to mention, that you just so happened to be cheering for his attractive best friend who may or may not have mentioned having sex dreams about you once or twice in passing.

It was good, but it wasn’t enough. Soonyoung made some offhand comment about how close the scores were so you knew you needed to keep going. You turned your attention away from the game again and lowered yourself down on your stomach on top of your towel and casually undid the strings of your bikini top to “sunbathe”.

If anyone asked it was so you didn’t get tan lines on your back, it was something that a lot of women did. In reality, however, you didn’t give a shit about tan lines, you just wanted to see how Wonwoo would react.

You pulled out your book to read while you tanned, tuning back into the game every once and a while to see how it was going. You could hear Soonyoung and Seungkwan yelling at Wonwoo to ‘pay attention’ or ‘snap the fuck out of it’ and smiled to yourself, excited for what was to come.

After several more minutes, your bathing suit was almost dry and you were starting to fall asleep on your towel. The volleyball game was taking way longer than you anticipated and you just wanted Mingyu and Hansol to win already. You didn’t have any other ideas to distract your boyfriend so you hoped they could pull it off.

Then, what you would call a fucking miracle happened. You were still nearly dozing off on top of your book when a pink Frisbee landed on the sand right in front of your face.

“Sorry about that!” called the voice of its owner and you squinted to see him jogging over to you. A few of his friends weren’t far behind and they all congregated in a little group in front of your towel. They looked to be about your age, maybe a little older. “Sorry to wake you up,” the ringleader apologized again, but smiled like he wasn’t really that sorry.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, one hand holding your loose bikini to your chest, while the other handed the Frisbee back to smiling guy. “No worries, I didn’t mean to fall asleep anyway.”

“What’s your name?” Ringleader asked. “I’m Jeonghan, and these are some of my fraternity brothers.”

Of course. You should’ve guessed. They were all jacked, tan, and had an air of privilege about them that you couldn’t miss. They were objectively cute, sure, but nothing in comparison to your boyfriend playing volleyball behind you. Not to mention their pack mentality freaked you out a little.

“I’m y/n,” you said and held your free hand out to them to shake, still keeping your other hand on your bikini top so you wouldn’t flash them. “Are you guys on a holiday break or something?”

“Yeah, just trying to make the most out of our last few days.”

“You from around here?” another boy asked, not being subtle at all in the way he was eyeing you.

“No, we just took a little day trip,” you explained and cleared your throat, wondering how long they’d stick around and when Wonwoo was going to come over and dick you down out of jealousy.

“We?” Ringlea- Jeonghan asked, cocking his head to the side. “Are you here with your friends?”

“Her boyfriend, actually,” Wonwoo piped up calmly from behind you. You looked back and saw him standing a few feet behind your towel with his arms crossed. He could be annoying, but fuck if he didn’t have good timing.

“Oh-uh, well I was nice to meet you.” Jeonghan mumbled abruptly and nodded to his friends to get back to their Frisbee game. They were gone before you could even say goodbye back.

“Attracting all sorts of attention today, aren’t you, love?” Wonwoo sneered and knelt down beside you.

His words went straight to the heat between your legs and you turned over onto your back to get a better look at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lied, daring him to challenge you.

“I think you do, y/n,” he continued. The way he whispered your name sent a shiver down your spine. “I mean, you’re practically naked in front of the whole beach right now.”

“I’m wearing a swimsuit.”

“You know what I mean. And all for what? To make me jealous? So I’d fuck you? Because you could’ve just asked, baby.”

You whimpered, but didn’t say anything and leaned up to kiss him, desperately wanting to feel his lips against yours. He leaned in too, but stopped just short of your mouth, pulling back a bit to look into your eyes. “I could just pull your bikini bottoms to the side, no one will notice.”

You moaned softly, wanting nothing more than for him to do exactly that. You weren’t even sure if you could wait to get home at this point, you wanted him inside of you now. He put a hand on each knee and spread your legs apart, whistling in awe at the wet spot on your bathing suit. You felt your face heat up in embarrassment. “I haven’t even touched you and you’re already this wet.”

“All because of you,” you panted, reaching out for him, but he pulled back.

“You know all of your teasing made me lose the game, right? I couldn’t focus because I was so distracted.” You nodded. “I was so fucking hard the whole match because of what you were doing”

And then your dumbass had to open your big mouth. “So Mingyu told you?”

Wonwoo pulled back, and gave you a confused look, clearly caught off guard. “Told me what?”

“Y/n, that was incredible, you were perfect!” Mingyu exclaimed as he ran up to you and Wonwoo, holding out a hundred dollar bill to you.

You winced as you took it, wishing you hadn’t said anything.

“Y/n, what the fuck?” Wonwoo demanded, even more frustrated than he had been a minute ago. “What were you incredible at?”

“Fucking distracting you, dude. I asked her if she’d be in on the bet with me for a cut of the winnings since you guys had more team members.”

Your boyfriend glared at you. “Is that true?”

“I mean, it’s just a game… and I thought it’d be fun,” you said quietly.

“That’s what you guys were talking about earlier, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, she didn’t need any convincing she was totally down-”

“Mingyu,” you interrupted, pinching the bridge of your nose, “please, if you have any mercy for my pussy please shut the fuck up.”

His face went scarlet and he shut his mouth without further comment.

“So that’s it?” Wonwoo asked, obviously not ready to drop the subject yet. “You’re just gonna sell out your own boyfriend that easy?”

“You said you didn’t want to be on a team with me!”

“Don’t turn this around on me! You’re the one who helped them cheat!”

“Oh I don’t know if I’d call it cheating,” Mingyu interjected again.

“Shut up, Mingyu!” you and Wonwoo both shouted.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Mingyu said quietly. “If I had known it was going to be this big of a deal I wouldn’t have asked her. I just thought I was being clever, that it’d be a fun way to beat you guys, but I’m sorry I went too far.”

Wonwoo sighed and ran a hand through his wet curls. “It’s fine. I’m sorry I overreacted.”

“So… we’re good?” Mingyu asked, holding out a hand to help Wonwoo up.

“Yeah, we’re good. Next time, though, we’re playing fair.”

“Deal.”

“Y/n, you still want to go swimming, love?” Wonwoo asked, turning back to you.

“We’re not- we’re not going home?” Despite everything you were still incredibly horny, and you’d been patiently waiting for Wonwoo to rail you for what felt like hours now.

“Not yet,” he said and helped you to your feet. “Let’s make the most of our beach day.”

“I think the rest of us are going to find an ice cream shop,” Mingyu added. “Winners are buying. Do either of you want anything?”

“No thanks, we’ll hang out here by ourselves for a while.” Wonwoo answered for the both of you.

He wrapped an arm around your waist as you walked down to the water together and you relaxed, enjoying the feeling of his warm skin on yours. Only once you were out of Mingyu’s earshot did he lean down and whisper “your ass is going to be seven shades of red for that little stunt once we get home,” in your ear. Now it was your turn to be distracted.

lmk what you thought; i always appreciate feedback)

wonwoo tags: @wonw00t 

shoot me an ask if you’d like to be added to my taglist

[mackenzielovee]

Hi bestie, your writing is just 👩‍🍳💋. If possible to do a y/n with Rafe where they fight and reader sleeps in the guest room. When Rafe realizes y/n is not in their bedroom goes and sleeps in the guest room with them.

a/n: hey baby! thank you so much for requesting this. it was fun to write. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: swearing, smut (fingering, kissing), mentions of drug use/abuse

Word Count: 2.4k+

my writing

apologies - rafe cameron

You stop pacing Rafe's bedroom to check your phone once again. The time keeps ticking by, and Rafe keeps not calling you back. He was supposed to be home hours ago; the two of you had plans to go out to the dock and eat dinner, hanging out and watching the sky. He had told you to be at his house at eight. It's now nearing midnight, and you haven't heard a peep. You pick up your phone to dial him again just as his door knob turns and Rafe slowly peaks his head in the room.

When he brings his eyes up to yours, he smiles quickly and sweetly, knowing he's in trouble but trying to soften to you up. You throw your phone back down on his bed and turn around, setting your hands on your hips and taking a deep breath. At least he's fine.

"Hey, baby," Rafe speaks, his voice sickeningly sweet.

You turn back around and watch as he carefully enters the room and closes the door, putting his back up against it. It's like he's trying to take up as little room as possible.

"Well, now that I know you're alive, I'm just gonna go home," you sigh, picking up your phone once again from the bed. Rafe takes a step forward, then another, then sets his hands on your arms to try and stop you from moving.

"No, baby, please don't leave," he says. Your eyes flicker up to his, and you instantly notice how bloodshot they are. You take another deep breath and close your eyes, ready to ask him the question you know you don't want the answer to.

"Rafe," you start, your voice calm, "Please tell me you are not high right now."

"I'm not high right now," Rafe says too fast. You look up at him again and can tell instantly that he's lying.

"Are you fucking kidding me, Rafe?" you raise your voice, squirming from his grip, "You're almost four hours late, you come back high, and then you lie about it?"

"Don't fucking yell at me, all right?" Rafe says, even though he raises his voice at you in return.

You roll your eyes and start grabbing your stuff, shoving it into your bag. You just want to go home and not deal with all of this right now.

"Where are you gonna go?" he asks you, his voice thick and accusing.

"Home," you mutter. Rafe scoffs, earning your attention.

"It's midnight and raining out. Just fucking sleep here and we'll work it out in the morning."

You roll your eyes at him and continue stuffing shit into the bag. Rafe comes over and grabs onto your wrists, stopping you from packing.

"Baby," he says, his voice softer, "Just chill for a second so I can explain, okay?"

You shrug and nod, telling him silently to go ahead and try to explain himself. He swallows before he speaks, so you know this will be good.

"Okay, well, I was out, y'know, with Topper and Kelce, right? We were at the Club. And Barry came by and started saying some shit to me and it just turned into a mess, okay? I had to handle shit with my sister and her dumbass friends and Topper's all pissed off because she's with John B now-"

"Rafe," you stop him, "I'm missing the part where you forgot to call for four hours and then got high."

He stares down at you, looking almost blindsided by the fact that you're asking him that, then nods his head.

"Okay, yeah," he says, more to himself than to you, "I uh, I lost my phone for a bit."

"You lost your phone for a bit?" you repeat, "Like, it died?"

Rafe considers that for a moment, then ultimately shakes his head.

"No, I just lost it at the Club."

You laugh and nod your head, finally understanding, "Oh, so you were too coked out to keep track of your shit? Nice, Rafe. I'm really glad you felt the need to get high out of your mind before you spend the night with me. That makes me feel really good."

You side-step him and continue to collect your things while Rafe throws his hands up in the air out of frustration.

"Jesus, that's not what it's about," he groans, "Barry showing up just threw me off and it fucking stressed me out-"

"You don't have to do coke every time you get stressed out, Rafe!" you turn and scream at him. He moves his head back and stares at you, clearly hurt by your outburst.

"Okay, look, I apologized-"

"You didn't, actually," you interrupt him, watching as Rafe replays this whole interaction over in his head and realizes he, in fact, has not actually apologized.

"All right. I am so sorry that I wasn't home on time and that I didn't call. Some shit just came up and I had to handle it but it was shitty of me not to call. If the tables were turned, I'd be mad, too. So, I'm sorry, baby."

Your shoulders fall as you start to melt under his term of endearment for you. Even after being together for so long, him calling you 'baby' still makes butterflies go crazy in your stomach.

"I accept your apology," you say quietly, watching his eyes shoot up to yours and a grin erupt on his face, "But I'm still gonna go home. You wasted my night, Rafe. I just want to be by myself."

His eyes fall to the floor again as he speaks, "It's pouring. Please just stay. I'll drive you home in the morning."

You stare at the boy, the man, you love so much and give in. Him worrying about you is always enough to make your heart melt, no matter how mad you can get at him.

"Fine," you mumble, dropping your bag onto the floor of Rafe's bedroom.

Rafe comes over and wraps his arms around you, pulling you close and holding you tightly. He pretends to not get upset when you don't return his hug. You're still mad, annoyed, and frustrated.

"I'm gonna go shower," you tell him as you pull away.

He wants to ask if he can join you, but he knows you're not in the mood for him to be playing around. So, he lets go of you and watches as you walk over to his bathroom door and close the door behind you.

You take a long shower. The warm water feels so good on your stressed muscles and Rafe being in the other room and not with you is comforting as well. Of course, you love him, but you also love your space and need to not be around him sometimes.

When you come out of the bathroom, only wrapped in a towel, you find Rafe fast asleep on his side of the bed. You try not to be upset with him because you know he had a stressful day and hr's exhausted, but you're also mad because of everything plus the fact that he's high and pretty much just passed out on you.

You pick up one of Rafe's shirts from the floor and then slide a pair of his boxers on, then grab your phone and head for the door. There's a guest room down the hall from Rafe's bedroom that you are going to sleep in, because you want to be alone and you really don't want to listen to Rafe snore all night after he's already irritated the shit out of you.

Your bare feet scurry across the hardwood floor and over to the guest room door, quietly pushing it open and slipping inside. You pull the covers back on the bed and crawl inside, relieved to be cuddling into a bed even if it isn't your own. The sleep is already trying to take over your body, so you don't even have time to browse your phone. It's time for sleep.

Almost the second your head hits the pillow, you're out. All of that worrying about where Rafe had been and if he had been okay had really worn you out.

You're waken up from your sleep when you hear the guest bedroom door creak open. Everything in the Cameron house is ancient, so everything creaks and cracks. You turn around in the bed and face the door, seeing your boyfriend's face squished in the doorway. He smiles softly when he sees you, but you can still see the sleep lining his eyes.

"Rafe," you grumble, pulling the sheets over your head.

"Baby," he says back, a playfulness in his voice.

He comes into the room and closes the door softly behind him. You feel him try to pull the sheets up from your grip, so you pull them tighter.

"Scoot over, baby," he whispers, so you sigh but obey.

Rafe breaks the sheets from your grasp and dives into the bed beside you, quick to wrap one of his arms around you and pull you close.

"I was worried when I woke up and you were gone," he admits to you, staring at the ceiling, "Why are you sleeping in here?"

You sigh, not really wanting to talk. You just want your sleep. Clearly, Rafe has other plans.

"You were already asleep when I got out of the shower," you say, attitude present in your voice.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," he says quickly, "I just crashed."

You want to make a comment about how, of course he crashed, because he was high when he got home. Instead, you move your head down to his chest, making him relax.

"It's okay," you barely whisper.

Rafe sighs, knowing it's not, "I'm going to do better."

You don't respond. You can feel yourself starting to get emotional at his promises, because he's made them before.

"I mean it, baby," he tells you when you don't answer, "I really fucked up tonight. I know that. I never, ever meant to skip out on a date with you or make you angry with me. I made a really bad judgment call and it will never happen again."

You bury your face into his chest, finally allowing yourself to completely breathe him in for the first time tonight. Although Rafe screws up a lot, one thing he does well is apologize. He's said absolutely everything that you have wanted to hear since he ran late tonight.

"Promise me," you say against him, feeling your tears start to come up again.

"I promise you."

You look up at him in the darkness, then crawl up against his body to leave a kiss on his lips. It's gentle and sweet, leaving Rafe wanting more when you pull away.

"I forgive you," you tell him, bringing a hand up to play with his hair. He closes his eyes under your touch, grateful to have such an amazing woman by his side.

"I love you so much, baby," he whispers.

"I love you, too," you reply, then sit up in the bed.

You crawl on top of your boyfriend, feeling him sit up so you can have a better seat on his lap. You straddle him and bring your lips down his cheeks and to his neck, knowing you're getting to him when he moves his head to the side to give you more space to work with.

"Mmm," he hums, his hands falling all the way back to shamelessly grab your ass.

"Just because we missed our date doesn't mean we have to skip out on the best part," you whisper in his ear, purposely trying to drive him crazy. It works, because he lets out a moan at your words.

"Holy shit, that's right, baby," he nods, leaning forward and kissing you. He bites your bottom lip and pulls it back before he let's go, knowing you love when he does that.

"You're gonna take care of me, right?" you ask him, keeping your voice low.

He brings one hand around from your ass and starts to rub you through his own boxers you have on, smirking when he realizes why the fabric feels so familiar.

"Don't I always?" he asks, "You were so mad at me earlier, and still put my fucking boxers on, huh?"

You grin but bury your head in his neck so he can't tell. Rafe's smirk just widens when you don't respond, so he slowly and carefully brings his hands up to the top of the boxers, then bringing his hands down to your core. You know he's going slow on purpose to tease you, and it's working. He always drives you crazy.

"Rafe," you finally whine, wanting him to do something other than graze your center.

"Hmm, baby? You want more?"

He smirks when he can feel you get even wetter as he speaks. He knows exactly what turns you on.

"Yes, please," you nod, doing your best to not sound impatient.

"So polite, baby," he grins, bringing his lips to your cheek and down to your neck as he pushes his fingers in you.

You moan as two fingers enter you, feeling Rafe start to move them in and out immediately. His grin only widens as he watches you, even being able to see you with your mouth open through the darkness.

"Keep going," you tell him, moaning once again at how good he feels.

He starts to go faster, then brings his other hand up to your mouth and sticks two of those fingers in your mouth.

"I want to hear you," he says quietly, "I know how loud you can get. But I don't want to get us in trouble. Okay, princess?"

You nod, sucking on his fingers in your mouth. He moans and moves his fingers in and out of you even faster. He feels you clench around him, so he knows you're ready. He looks up into your eyes and then pushes his fingers back further into your mouth.

"Come for me, baby, I've got you."

You nod and clench again, then come only a minute later. He smirks as he removes two separate sets of his fingers from your body, bringing the ones that been buried inside your core up to his lips.

"Jesus," you groan, watching him as he licks his fingers clean through the darkness.

"You better not be exhausted, I'm not done with you yet," he warns you.

You smile and lean forward, kissing him roughly and moving your hips against his. He moans in your mouth, not being able to contain himself.

"Shit," he swears when you pull away, "I'm gonna fuck up more often."

[noteguk]

house rules | jhs | m

— summary; in which Hoseok didn’t expect that killing a spider would lead to one of the best fucks of his life. 

— content and warnings; this is just filth… rough sex, hair pulling, fingering, dom!hoseok and sub!reader, established relationship, a lot of begging, overstimulation, creampie, cum eating, use of the words like “slut” and “cockslut”... all of this because a dumb ass arachinid

— words; 4.8k

Ever since you had moved in with Hoseok, taking your relationship to the next level, there had been some established house rules — or, rather, a task division that both sides could agree on. You washed the dishes, and Hoseok dried them. He washed and passed the clothes, and you cleaned (most) of the apartment, leaving him to the bathroom every time. Cooking was his choir for three days of the week, yours for the other three, and the seventh one would be takeout day. Saturdays and Sundays were for lazy afternoons and mid-day naps, and neither of you would work too hard to get things moving around the place.   And, most importantly, if there was a bug, no matter what it was, Hoseok would have to drop everything that he was doing and go get rid of it. 

You didn’t care how: kill it, place it gently on a nearby tree, whatever. You just wanted it gone, out of sight and out of mind. There was no way that you could sleep in the same room that you had seen a bug in, sometimes not even in the same apartment. After all, they can always move under the doors. 

So, when you saw a spider dangerously close to your face, it wasn’t exactly a surprise that you lost your shit. 

That night was particularly hot and you were already sweating like crazy by the time you finished doing your exercises for the day. With sore muscles, you dragged yourself all the way to your shower, only to groan in delight once the warm water hit your skin like the massage from an angel. Within ten minutes, you felt like a new person, and stepped out of the shower to dry yourself. 

You had gotten the towel all the way up to your face, pressing the fuzzy fabric lightly against your skin, when you saw it: hanging from the ceiling with a frail trace of web, moving like a demonic stripper in thin air. A big, chunky, hairy spider, just a few inches from your nose. 

With you, it was always a combo of seeing and reacting, no room to think anything through. The second you glimpsed at those eight devilish eyes, it’s little arms clenching around nothing, it was game over: you were already screaming bloody murder for Hoseok, throwing yourself over to the door and maniacally bolting out of the bathroom, towel forgotten somewhere on the cold floor. 

“Hobi!!” You yelled, sounding like there was a serial killer sitting on your sink. “Spider! In the bathroom!” 

You heard him before you saw him, his heavy steps drumming against the floor as he ran towards your shared bedroom. 

“I got it, I got it!” Hoseok zoomed past you, the crumbs of something sticking at the bottom of his lip, and threw himself into the bathroom. 

The door banged shut and the battle sounds resumed, with Hoseok stumbling to remove his shoe before the dangerous arachnid got the best of him. 

Relieved, you sighed and ran one hand through your makeshift bun, allowing for your hair to fall over your shoulders (part of you thought that there were thousands of small spiders crawling all over your body, but you decided to ignore that). You were happy enough that the universe had at least allowed you to dry yourself before you had been so mercilessly attacked, otherwise you wouldn’t have been able to throw yourself on your bed. 

And there you laid, sprayed out on the mattress and trying to calm yourself down, looking up at the light on the ceiling as Hoseok comically screamed inside your bathroom. You giggled at the sound, sure that he was only doing that to make you relax, and the fear inside your chest gave way to a new sense of appreciation. Hoseok really was great. 

The door opened with a dramatic movement, and there stood your savior, with a large smile on his face. “The dragon has been slayed, princess,” he said, turning off the bathroom light. “It’s dead and in the trash, if you want to look for yourself.”

“Lovely, offer, but I’ll pass.” You giggled, and sat up on the bed. “My knight in shining armor.” 

Only, Hoseok wasn’t laughing back anymore. 

One fun fact about your boyfriend was that he was kind of a pervert when it came to you (as all boyfriends should be, you thought). You, however, had found out one of his special interests about two months back, when you decided it would’ve been a good idea to try a Tik Tok trend on him, and walked in while he was watching TV with nothing but the clothes you were born with. That day, you learned that Hoseok didn’t respond “well” when it came to seeing you butt-naked on random occasions. “Well” as in, he went apeshit. It was like his mind short-circuited and his reptile brain took over, and all that he could think about was when and how hard he was going to fuck you. 

That night, it wasn’t any different. 

That night, as Hoseok looked down at your naked body like he could drill the soul out of you, watching the curvature of your breasts as you breathed, and the mounds of your thighs on the immaculate white sheets, you thought that maybe not all insects are worthless. 

“Fuck,” he mumbled to himself, frowning. You could see his brain trying to process everything that you were showing him, and the clear lust on his face was enough to have excitement running through your veins, shooting straight at your core. “If that isn’t a sight to behold.” 

You smiled, leaning back on your hands, breasts fully exposed to him. “You flatter me.” 

“I’m being honest.” He took a step towards the bed, and you felt your heart leaping out of your chest. 

“I know you are.” You looked up at him as he stopped in front of the bed, in between your open legs. Hoseok stared at you like he was in a daze, but it was always like that: the calm before the storm. He would snap any second now, and you’d like to rush the process, if possible. “Thank you for saving me.” 

He hummed, taking one of his hands to your cheek, thumb caressing the spot. “Can I get my reward now?” 

You tilted your head to the side, leaning against his warm palm. “Who said anything about a reward?” 

“I did,” he spoke without hesitation. His hand trailed down your face, his thumb now slightly separating your lips. “Besides, it’s a good deal. I’ll do all the work.”

You raised your eyebrows, interested. “Yeah?” 

When you felt him pressing against your lip, you allowed for two of his fingers to slip inside your mouth, and you were quick to coat them with your saliva, sucking like you would his cock. Hoseok licked his own lips at the sight, sighing deeply. Anytime now. 

“Yeah,” he answered, eyes hooded and glued to your mouth. Inside his pants, his cock twitched, aching to have you around it. “You have to forgive me, baby. You just took a shower.” 

You blinked, humming as he removed his fingers from your mouth. “What about it?” 

“Well, you see…” Hoseok lowered his body to your level, making you lean back so he could touch his lips against yours. He didn’t kiss you hard, though, in fact, it was all too controlled (too ephemeral) for your liking. “You just took a shower,” he repeated, “and I’m about to make you all dirty again.” 

And there it was. 

It was all too sudden for you to react, as it often was once he let his primitive side take hold. Within a second, Hoseok was curling his arm around your waist, manhandling you and throwing you up on the bed, towards the pillows. You barely had time to gasp in surprise before his mouth was attacking yours, harshly this time, his grunts coming out like a muffled melody against the sloppy, sensual kiss. 

You whined against him as his hands grabbed your breasts and his tongue slipped inside your mouth, his knee coming between your legs to spread them out. When Hoseok leaned in, with his chest impossibly close to yours, he deepened the kiss and you could feel his hard cock pressed against your pussy, barely brushing your clit. 

“Fuck, you’re too hot,” he cursed, breathing hard against your mouth. His hands hungrily grabbed your breasts one more time, making a whimper fall from your lips. Hoseok grunted at how your body reacted to him, always so ready. “Back to me, baby,” he commanded, leaning back so you could have more space. 

You never needed any convincing in those times. Hastily, you did as he said and turned your body around, pressing your breasts against the bed, hands firmly placed against the pillows. 

“That’s it, baby, perk that ass up.” His hands met the flesh of your butt, squeezing it tightly, and you once more did as he requested, curving up your spine so he could have a better view of your dripping heat. Hoseok groaned at the sight and it didn’t take long before you felt his middle finger trailing up your slit, barely brushing your entrance. “That’s my girl. Is this all for me?” 

“Yes,” you told him, biting back a sob when his digit came back between your folds, slowly entering you. “Yeah, Hobi, it’s all for you.” 

Hypnotized by the movement of his finger inside you, your boyfriend could only moan in satisfaction as he felt your walls embracing him, just as tight and warm as he remembered it. Hoseok couldn’t wait to see you crying around his cock, being filled to the brim by his cum just the way he liked it. 

“God, such a good little slut,” he commented, adding a second finger. Your back arched at the contact, eyes closing in bliss as a loud moan left you. “You’re this wet, uh? Soaking my fingers just thinking about my cock.” 

“Y-Yes,” you stuttered, looking back at him. Hoseok was licking his lips, staring at your pussy as it took his fingers in with ease, spreading wide for them. He looked like the embodiment of sin, and you wished he could just fuck you for once and get that waiting done with. “I want it so bad. I want to feel you inside me.” 

He hummed, especially liking the neediness in your tone. “I need to get you nice and ready first, baby,” he said, parting his digits slightly. He could put in a third one if he tried, but he wanted to feel you clenching around him, begging for more. “Your pussy looks so pretty like this. I can’t wait to fuck it.” 

“God, yes,” you cried, closing your eyes at the thought. Hoseok was fingering you so well that you thought you could cum just like that if he continued on with it, even if you knew he wouldn’t allow you to. When he was in one of those moods, he would only let you cum if it was around his cock. 

“You’re fucking dripping down my fingers, baby,” Hoseok said and you could tell by his deep tone that he just as excited as you, his cock angerly pressing against the fabric of his pants, begging for his attention. The sounds of you gushing around his hand was lewd, mingling with your whimpers as he continued to pound inside you, and he thought he could cum just by hearing that sweet symphony. “Such a mess.” 

“Hobi, I won’t last long,” you warned in a high-pitched sob, thighs beginning to shake. Hoseok had started to notice that already from the way you were tightening around him, but he wanted to know if you would be a good girl and tell him yourself. “I’m so close.” 

His movements did not stop. “Did I make you that horny?” He chuckled, loving every second of that. It was no news how much Hoseok liked seeing you like that: a submissive and blubbering mess, silently begging for your release as he tilted you over the edge once, twice, without ever letting it go. Some days were worse than others and, that night, he was too overwhelmed by his own need to tease you too much. “But we can’t have that, can we, baby?” 

The air you sucked in seemed like it didn’t even reach your lungs — you were in a trance, breaths heavy and shallow, trying to keep your voice steady so you could speak to him. “N-no,” you managed to answer. 

Hoseok raised his eyebrows, fingers still pumping in and out of you, curving just at the right spot to make you gasp out his name. The pleasure in your stomach was building too fast, and you knew you wouldn’t last another minute if he kept that up. “And why is that?” He teased. 

“Because-“ You whimpered. “Fuck, because I need to cum on your cock.” 

He smiled, proud. “That’s right, baby. Good girl.” 

Just as you were about to snap, Hoseok pulled his hand away from your pussy, leaving you to clench around nothing as the pleasure slowly started to die out. With hazed eyes, you watched as he took his fingers to his mouth, groaning in delight at the taste. 

“Hmmm… So sweet,” he complimented, licking himself clean. Hoseok locked eyes with you. “Do you want my cock, baby?” 

You wiggled your ass in the air, trying to make him move. “Yes, so much.” 

Hoseok looked down at your dripping core, one of his hands flying to the back of his shirt and pulling it out with a swift tug. He threw it on the floor without care and your gaze snapped to his muscular figure, watching as his body tensed up at the sight of your wetness. You knew that he was holding himself back (he was always one to play with his food, after all), but you also knew that it wouldn’t last much longer. 

Hoseok smirked. “Such a good little slut for me.” He undid his belt with ease, and pulled his pants down to his thighs, along with his underwear. Your mouth watered at the view of his cock: heavy and hard, already so red with need. The tip of it glistened under the cool bedroom lights, dripping with precum, which Hobi quickly used his thumb to spread across his slit as he started pumping himself. 

He hissed at the contact. “You love my cock, don’t you?” He asked, moving closer to you. 

You nodded weakly, pressing your head down against the pillow and bracing yourself for him. Every part of you ached for that feeling of his fat dick inside you, filling you up with every strong pump. Part of you though that he would make you say it out loud, but he had other thoughts in mind. 

You gasped when you felt his tip pressing against your entrance, but not going in. Your pussy clenched around nothing, body trembling with anticipation as Hoseok leaned forward and kissed the skin of your shoulder. 

“I really wanna fuck you hard tonight, baby,” he almost whispered, his voice so hoarse that your stomach did a somersault. “Is that okay?” 

“Yeah, please,” you said, trying to press yourself back against his cock. Hoseok hummed, his strong hands avoiding your hips from going any further. “Fuck me as hard as you want.”

“Ah, that’s such a dangerous thing to say.” Hoseok kissed your shoulder one more time. His warmth was sticking to you like perfume, making your breath come out heavy, eager. “Are you sure you can handle it?” 

A moan left you as you felt him pressing against you, just enough for his tip to slither in halfway, giving you a tease of that burn you loved so much, only so he could stop again. “Yes, Hobi, please,” you begged for what should’ve been the hundredth time that night, holding tightly to the sheets. You couldn’t even perk your ass up, with his weight on top of you, so you were left at his mercy, waiting for him to fuck you at last. “I always take it so well, you know that.” 

He sighed, sliding in just a bit more. His crown passed through your opening, making your muscles throb around him, and he paused once more, with a moan perishing in his throat. “All of it?” He asked. 

“Yes, fuck, everything,” you pleaded, voice mellow. You couldn’t take any more of his torture, your mind was a frenzy and the need you felt for him was like a chokehold, stopping you from breathing properly. “Just put it in, please.” 

Hoseok chuckled, feeling particularly merciful that night. “Such a hungry little cockslut, baby.” 

With one thrust, he filled you to the brim, making you take everything he had to give you. Hoseok watched, amazed, as you cried out at the feeling, your beautiful lips opening and closing as you grew used to his size, then he moved his gaze to your pussy, dripping down on his cock, fighting to accommodate him. He could look at that all day. 

He hissed, biting on his lip. “So perfect,” he mumbled to himself and rocked his hips forward. You whined at the motion, toes curling as you closed your eyes, diving into the pace he was starting to set, getting faster and rougher with each thrust until your headboard was banging against the wall in a way that you knew your neighbors were going to complain about. 

But, at that time, it didn’t matter. All that it mattered was his cock pounding into you in a way that made your legs shake and your cunt flutter around him, tears accumulating at the corners of your eyes at the overwhelming gush of pleasure that your boyfriend was giving you. Intoxicated by him, you started to throw your body back against his hard member, helplessly trying to make him sink further inside you. 

“That’s it, baby, take it.” Hoseok grunted, picking up his pace as he drilled inside you. The entire bed was shaking, and your thoughts had turned into nothing. “You’re making such a mess on my cock,” he breathed out, “It’s so fucking pretty.” 

A sob left you as you felt his thick member moving impossibly deep, his thrusts hard and merciless, and you pressed yourself down against the bed one more time, holding tightly to the sheets as if they could save you from his advances. In fact, the entirety of you was a wreck at that point, and you couldn’t speak coherently even if you tried, instead babbling on about how good his cock felt inside you, how full you were — and how much you wanted more. 

“Hobi, please,” you cried out, unsure of what your next words would be. 

And, as if he knew that, he said, “Please what, baby?” 

You didn’t know where it had come from, but you couldn’t hold yourself back from saying, “I want it harder.” 

Instead of responding you, you felt a tug on your hair, Hoseok’s hand yanking your head back as he kept fucking your pussy with every ounce of strength he had inside him. The sensation quickly morphed from pain to pleasure, and you cried out his name. “What was that? I didn’t hear you.” 

You swallowed hard. “Harder, please,” you sobbed. 

Another pull of your hair had you perking your ass up against him, making you lean on your elbows. “Can you take it?” He asked, voice hoarse. His chest was pressed against your back, and every syllable he spoke reverberated against your skin. “Can this pretty pussy take all that, uh?” 

“Yes, fuck, Hoseok, please,” you moaned, eyes closing with the feeling of pleasure only growing inside you. Another powerless movement of your hips, changing the angle just slightly, and you got him hitting your sweet spot over and over. “Fuck, yeah, right there, fuck-“ 

Hoseok groaned and let go of your hair, allowing for you to collapse back against the mattress. He, instead, placed his hand on your upper back and pressed your body down against the bed, fingers curling around your shoulder to support him, pulling your body down against his cock as he thrusted up into your dripping cunt with even more force. 

“Oh, yes, yes, yes,” you moaned out, tears pooling at the corners of your eyes. Everything was shaking: you, the bed, the world around you two. Every slap of his hips against yours was both hell and heaven, his cock hitting so hard and deep inside you that got you seeing stars. You loved the way he filled you up, like he was meant to be there. 

“That’s so fucking good,” he groaned, leaning back and placing his hands back on your hips, using it to push you back against his throbbing dick. “That’s my girl, fuck. Taking it like a good slut.” 

Trembling, you looked back just to see Hoseok with his head thrown back, moaning out as he continued to fuck you senseless. His eyes were shut and his mouth hung open, sweaty strands of hair falling over his furrowed brows and glistening under the bedroom light. He looked so fucking hot that you felt yourself clenching around his cock, whimpering at the lustful sight, and a new wave of euphoria hit you all at once, making you throw yourself forward. 

“You’re so fucking tight,” he said, hands digging to the flesh of your hips. He was everything you could feel and think about, the sound of your wetness was like music to your ears. The world was too hot. “You’re gonna cum?” 

“Yeah,” you whimpered, too drunk on his cock to even think straight. Hoseok could recognize that mewl in your voice anywhere, and he knew that you were really hanging by a thread. “God, it feels so good, Hobi.” 

Hoseok leaned back in, and his hand was fast to grab another chunk of your hair and pull on it, making you crash up against his chest. You cried out both because of the tingle in your scalp, and because of the new angle of his thrusts, which helped him hit that special place all over again, making you see stars. 

He placed his head on the crook of your neck, his voice hot and heavy with hunger as he spoke, “Cum on this fat cock, baby,” he groaned, his hips snapping hard against your pussy. “Make a mess on it, come on. I wanna see it.” 

That was all that you needed to tilt you over the edge and you came around his cock with high-pitched yelps and the glorious call of his name. Hoseok cursed at the feeling of your cunt throbbing around his cock, your thighs shaking as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm. 

You tightened so much around him that his body jolted backwards, a gasp leaving him as he let go of your hair, that hand instead coming down to grope your ass. “That’s it, baby,” he said, watching as your wetness dripped down his cock, coating him so well. He could look at that all day, just following as you gushed around him so deliciously. “Oh, this is so fucking good.” 

You could tell by the grogginess of his tone (and the increase in force of his hands around your hips) that he wasn’t far from his own high at that point. A weak, sensible whimper left you as you felt his dick throb inside you, the pleasure already shifting to a vague pain. 

“Hobi, it’s too much,” you said, but you didn’t want him to stop. 

“Almost there,” he groaned, licking his lips. “Take it just a bit more for me, baby.” 

And you would, just like you had done countless times before, because when Hoseok asked all that you could do was to accept it. Even with your cunt already sensitive and your body trembling, you didn’t want him to stop, you wanted him to use you so he could fuck himself through an orgasm, spilling himself inside you until you were completely full of him. 

That, you noticed, wouldn’t be long. With a loud, drawn-our moan and a throb of his cock inside you, his thrusts started to get more sloppy, impossibly faster, as he tried to reach his own climax. 

“Can I cum inside you, baby?” Hoseok asked through clenched teeth, his voice breathless and drowning in lust. The ringing in your ears — courtesy of your orgasm — almost didn’t let you hear him. “Uh? Can I make a mess in this pretty little cunt?” 

“Fuck, yes, please,” you whimpered. The sensitivity was too much, but you loved it, and the idea of having his cum spilling inside you made a new wave of pleasure rock through your belly. “I want you to fill me up, Hobi.” 

His breath hitched when you pulsated around him. “Good girl,” he praised. You loved when he called you that, it made you all warm and fuzzy. “Still so tight and wet for this cock, fuck.” 

You bit down on your lip, eyes fluttering shut at his words, and the increasing force of his thrusts. “It’s all yours, Hobi.” You sighed, inebriated on the feeling of him. “Just cum inside me, please, I can’t take it anymore.” 

And that (such a delicate, needy request from you) was all that he needed. Hoseok moaned and cursed as his hot cum overflowed inside you, the feeling being filled up making your walls clench around his cock, milking away the last drops of his seed as he continued to rock himself in and out of you. The obscene sounds of his cock fucking you through his orgasm, making his cum spill out was all that filled your thoughts for a moment, eyes fluttering shut at the sensation of it dripping down your legs. 

Hoseok winced after the last drop had fallen from his slit, his body thrusting forward one last time. “Fuck,” he said shakily, stopping his movements and closing his eyes in endless bliss. “I love your pussy so fucking much.” 

There were no words in your head and you didn’t even know how to respond anymore. Instead, you whined as you felt him slip out, another wave of wetness pooling between your folds as his cum spilled out of you. Hoseok’s hands, however, were quick to curl around your thighs, keeping you in place as he dove back in. You were taken off guard, and a muffled sob came from your throat before you could control yourself. 

“Hobi, wait!” You said, unsure of where you were going with that request. A loud, frustrated cry dripped from your mouth as Hoseok traced his tongue up your slit, cleaning his own cum out of you, swallowing everything as he groaned in delight. The sensation of his mouth was a lot to take in and you could feel your whole body start to shake. “God, stop, it’s too much.” 

He hummed and, with a last lick against your entrance, he moved away from your cunt. “Sorry, baby,” Hoseok said, sounding everything but regretful. “You know I fucking love when you take my cum.” 

You nodded, watching as Hoseok collapsed dramatically next to you, making the bed bounce with his weight. You took your chance to lower your body, hugging the pillows against your cheek when your legs finally gave out beneath you. 

“Holy shit.” He breathed out. “We should do this more often.” 

You giggled, turning on your side to see him better. There was a delicious ache between your thighs, and the afterglow of your orgasm had made you all weak. “All of this because of a fucking spider,” you joked, a bit drownsy. 

Hoseok sprawled one hand against his forehead, closing his eyes for a moment. His breath was still heavy and shallow as he spoke, “Don’t hate me for this, but I kinda want more spiders around the house now.” 

You giggled. “Right after my shower too,” you complained, wiggling your tired body over the sheets so you could move a bit closer to him. “I’m all sweaty now.” 

He opened his eyes and found yours. Hoseok knew you very well, so he caught your drift instantly. “You know… if you’re going to take another shower, there could be more spiders in there.” He pointed towards the bathroom. “It could be very dangerous.” 

You hummed, the ghost of a smirk already crawling up your lips. “Maybe you could join me? Just to protect me, of course.” 

Hoseok smiled. “Of course,” he said. “Those are the house rules.”

[bellakitse]

Only you

TK stares into Carlos’ brown eyes, lost in them and the love he sees there. “Do you think about kids?” he finds himself blurting out loudly, his voice cracking at the end.

+

Seeing Carlos with the Vega girls sparks a conversation between TK and Carlos about their future.

*spoilers for 2.14*

“Well, that was fun,” Tommy says dryly as they pull the ambulance into her driveway as the sun sets on Austin. “Pretty sure we’re going to find dust on us for weeks to come.”

TK nods, making a face as he parks the rig. “In very uncomfortable places for sure.”

Tommy chuckles, flashing him an amused smile as he shifts in his seat. “Come on, let’s go see if your boy survived my own forces of nature.”

TK grins back at his Captain, himself interested in seeing how Carlos faired with the adorable Vega twins. He follows Tommy towards her front door, stopping short when she comes to a stop two steps into the house.

“Damn, that really is cute,” he hears her say, fond and a little emotional. 

TK peers over her shoulder, curious to see what she means, his breath catching in his lungs at the sight before them, causing him to let out a soft sound. “Oh.”

Isabella, Evie, and Carlos are asleep on the couch – Carlos in the middle, while the girls each use one of his legs as a pillow. Carlos’ hands rest on the girls’ backs protectively, his head tilting forward.

“I used to find them like this with Charles all the time,” Tommy whispers, bringing a shaky hand to her mouth, taking a breath before she continues. “They would tire themselves out playing and still wait up for me to come home. I used to tell Charles not to do it, but he was such a pushover when it came to the girls.” 

TK places a comforting hand on her shoulder, giving her a small smile when she turns to look at him. “He was a really good dad,” he whispers back, squeezing her shoulder when she gives him a wobbly nod. 

“He really was,” Tommy agrees, sniffing loudly to keep from crying. She turns to look back at the three sleeping bodies, her smile coming back as she does. “Your boy is a good one in training.”

TK startles at the comment, his heart ticking up nervously at the suggestion behind her words. “Oh, I, that’s, we – ” he stammers as Tommy turns her knowing eye to him.

“Did I just break your brain?” she asks with a smirk, her brown eyes dancing with affectionate amusement.

TK tries to answer, coming up with nothing; finally, he lets out a huff, rolling his eyes as she continues to smirk at him. “That was mean, Cap,” he pouts when she lets out another chuckle.

“I’m just making an observation,” she says as she lifts her hands innocently. “You found yourself a good one, and as one of my kids,” she continues warmly as she reaches out to squeeze his hand. “I’m happy for you.”

TK feels a lump in his throat at her words, both her comments about him and Carlos and her familial affection for him making him feel warm inside. “Thanks, Cap,” he says softly, giving her fingers a squeeze in hopes she understands he feels the same love for her.

Tommy gives him another smile before she nods towards the trio. “I’ll let you do the honors,” she motions.

TK lets out another huff of laughter as he moves towards the couch, crouching down to be at eye level with Carlos. He reaches out to touch his cheek, smiling softly when his boyfriend instinctively leans into the touch. “Babe, wake up, we’re back,” he says softly as he runs his hand from Carlos’ cheek to his hair. He watches him, his smile growing as he slowly opens his beautiful brown eyes, a soft smile playing on his lips when he’s awake enough to realize it’s him.

“Hey, baby,” Carlos says with a yawn, bringing a hand up to rub the sleep from his eyes. “Saved the world?”

TK moves his head from side to side jokingly. “We did our part,” he answers, stroking Carlos’ curls once more. “How did you do?”

“The girls are crazy good at the Nintendo Switch,” he answers, looking over his shoulder to look at Tommy. “They kicked my butt, but they’re going to let me have a re-match when I get better.”

“How magnanimous of them,” Tommy laughs softly with a shake of her head. “I better get them to bed even though it probably means they’ll be up at the crack of dawn.”

“I got it, no worries, Captain Vega,” Carlos answers as he smoothly gets up without waking either girl. TK stares, his heart pounding a little faster as Carlos picks up Evie first, heading for the girls’ bedroom. A few minutes later, he comes back for Isabella, doing the same, leaving him and Tommy alone in the living room watching after him.

“Damn,” Tommy whispers, impressed, her eyes twinkling. She turns her gaze to him, and TK feels himself blush at the knowing look she gives him. “I bet you take advantage of those muscles.”

TK’s face burns, but it doesn’t stop him from giving her a bratty smirk that makes her laugh with delight. “You know it, Cap.”

 ֎֎֎

 TK comes into the bedroom he and Carlos are temporarily using in his father’s home, rubbing at his wet hair with a towel. “Even with the shower, I feel like I didn’t get all the dust off.”

“I offered to spot check you, and you said no,” Carlos answers from the head of the bed where he’s reading a book.

“The crew is coming over in an hour,” he reminds him, throwing a smile over his shoulder as he drops the towel around his waist while looking for a pair of underwear, smiling to himself as he feels Carlos’ eyes on his backside. “If you had joined me, we’d still be in there, and you know it.”

“So you’re saying you didn’t want to tempt me with your wet, naked body,” Carlos asks sarcastically as TK hears him close his book and stand from the bed.

“Exactly,” he answers teasingly, letting out a gasp when he feels Carlos’ body pressed against his back.

“Then you’re not doing a great job, baby,” he whispers into the skin under his right ear, pulling the lobe into his mouth to give it a soft suck.

“Seriously? Now?” TK groans even as he presses his body back into Carlos’ frame. He turns around, letting out a shallow breath at the heat he finds in Carlos’ gaze. “When we have people coming over, and I can’t have my wicked way with you the way I have wanted to since we left Tommy’s?”

Carlos raises an eyebrow at him. “Anything in particular that got you going at Tommy’s?”

TK feels himself blush, realizing his mistake. Turning around again, he quickly slips on a pair of blue boxer briefs before reaching for a pair of jeans and a short-sleeve button-down shirt with flowers on them.

“TK?”

TK sighs softly, knowing Carlos isn’t going to let it go. He turns back towards his boyfriend, giving him a sheepish smile when he finds his curious gaze on him. “You taking care of the girls,” he starts to say, his face growing hotter when Carlos raises an eyebrow at him, the corners of his lips twitching as he begins to understand. “You looked really good with them, and I thought – “

“What?” Carlos questions softly, his expression serious and focused on him as he comes back into TK’s space, reaching out to place his hands on his hips. “You thought what?”

TK stares into Carlos’ brown eyes, lost in them and the love he sees there. “Do you think about kids?” he finds himself blurting out loudly, his voice cracking at the end. He cringes, opening his mouth, ready to apologize, stopping short when Carlos speaks.

“Yes,” he says easily, giving TK a shrug like they’re talking about something simple and not children, which is anything but. “I think of a little boy who I can teach to cook, and read the stories my mom used to read to me at bedtime. A mini-you, who you’ll dress up in flower button-downs and skinny jeans to match with you. Maybe a little girl afterwards, the queen of the house, wrapping both of us around her little finger. They would get away with everything with us as their parents,” he chuckles fondly as he paints their future with his words. “We would love them so much.”

TK stares at Carlos, feeling his heart pounding. He swallows hard, clearing his throat when he finds it hard to speak. “You want kids with me?” he whispers, afraid that any louder will break the magic of the moment.

Carlos smiles softly, his eyes closing for a moment as he does so. When he opens them, he takes another step, their chests brushing against each other as he reaches up to cup TK’s face, tilting it towards his. “Baby,” he says gently, rubbing the tip of his nose against his as he presses their foreheads together.

TK swallows again, overwhelmed by the emotions he’s feeling. He squeezes the sides of Carlos’ waist, needing something to anchor himself.

“When I think about kids, or the future in general,” he continues, love coming off him in waves. “You are at the center, always. Whether there are kids or not in it, my future has you right there next to me. You are my future, TK.”

TK closes the small gap between their faces, kissing Carlos desperately, letting out a groan when Carlos matches his need. They kiss long and hard, hands touching any part of the other they can, and TK really wants to take it further if it weren’t for the fact that their friends are going to be over any minute. He’s not done thinking about it when he hears the bell ring. He pulls away reluctantly, whimpering when he sees the heat in Carlos’ eyes.

“To be continued,” he promises, leaning in to give Carlos another kiss, this one soft and tender. “You’re my future too,” he whispers, his eyes locking with Carlos’, making sure he understands he means it. “That little boy and little girl, none, one, two, or six kids,” he grins when it makes Carlos chuckle. “It doesn’t matter as long as it’s with you and only you.”

Carlos pulls him into a hug, kissing the side of his face. “I love you.”

TK returns the embrace, pressing his lips into Carlos’ muscled shoulder. “I love you too.”

[justthehiddleswrites]

Accidently Married | Tom Hiddleston x OFC | Chapter 2 | Be Careful with Clive, I Have Grown Attached to Him

A/N:  Tom makes certain comments about an ex (who is unnamed).  It is a fictional girlfriend, take from it what you will.  Keep your hate to yourself.  

SERIES MASTERLIST HERE

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Molly Bishop)

Summary: Tom is stuck in a news cycle from hell; Molly is stuck in the dead end job of bartending with a pile of student and credit debt.  Tom has an idea to solve all their problems.  Get married, get the paparazzi off his back, divorce after a year and Tom pays off Molly’s debts.  Tom has everything figured out, that is until he sees Molly as more than a just a friend and so does someone else.  In this vying for affections who will win, the handsome Brit or the boy from Boston?

This Chapter: Tom and Molly are now married.  Surprise! These two talk about the logistics of Tom’s half-baked plan.  And Molly moves to London to face the firing squad, aka the paparazzi.  

Warnings: fake marriage, smut (vaginal sex), mentions of:  child abuse/neglect, foster care, substance abuse, cheating.

TAGLIST IS OPEN! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED!  THANK YOU FOR READING!

–

After they signed the license along with the apostille, there had been dancing. That much Molly remembered. And drinking. Specifically drinking champagne. Tom danced with abandon, pulling Molly into the whirlwind of activity he created around him.

But now it was morning, and Molly woke up in a bed that wasn’t her own. She groaned as her head pounded, having forgotten that champagne and her have a love-hate relationship. Molly saw the faint outline of Tom asleep on the couch, his long body stretched out, still wearing his suit from last night. After glancing at the alarm clock, Molly fell back asleep.

Several hours, Molly woke up again and headed to the bathroom, not noticing the now opened curtains.

“Hey good lookin, Whatcha got cookin,” Tom’s voice twanged as he stepped out of the shower. His head pounded a bit, but not the worst hangover he had.

“AHHH!!!” Molly screamed as she stepped into the bathroom.

They both froze, which was more embarrassing for Tom, as at least Molly was still wearing her dress from last night.

“You’re naked.” Molly blinked, her head darting around the room until she focused on an interesting corner of the room.

Tom chuckled, grabbing a towel and wrapping it loosely around his waist. “I don’t normally shower in my clothes. You can look back now.”

She slowly turned back around. “Sorry.” She shuffled her feet. “I should have knocked.”

“It’s quite alright.” He moved towards the door. “Shower is yours and we should talk things over.”

Molly nodded. “We should.”

While Molly showered, Tom dressed in the other room. After finding a clean t-shirt for Molly to wear over her dress until she could change, he called the airlines and changed his single ticket for that morning to a later flight for two, fishing Molly’s ID out of her wallet.

“Thanks for the shirt.” she stepped out.

“It looks good on you.” Tom gestured to the sofa. “Sit. Would you like some breakfast?” Her stomach growled. They both laughed. “That would be a yes.” Tom shoved the room service menu. “Order what you like.”

She selected an egg white frittata while Tom got the pancakes. Tom put in the order and returned his attention to Molly.

“So let’s talk about how this will work.” Tom shifted in his seat.

“An excellent idea. You mentioned living together in London. When do we leave?”

“This afternoon.”

Molly coughed. “That quick?”

“I’m afraid so.” Tom’s hands fidgeted in his lap. She noticed he was still wearing the spider ring. “I have work obligations back home and in order for it to be believable you would need to live with me.”

“Naturally.” Molly slapped her thighs. “So after breakfast, I can head back to my apartment, pack up what little I have, say goodbye to my roommate, and change into appropriate clothing. And you need to get us some proper rings.” She waved her hot pink ring in the air. “Unless of course you intend for your bride to wear a ring from the top of a cupcake.”

“Only if I get to keep my ring. I’ve grown quite attached to Clive.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You named the spider?”

“Yes.” There was a knock on the door. “That will be the food. Allow me.” He disappeared and returned shortly with a rolling table, ladened with food. Tom poured a cup of coffee and offered one to Molly.

“I don’t drink coffee.”

“I can have them bring up a teapot.”

“I’m pretty sure there are some complimentary ones in the room. Now,” She cut into her food and took a bite. “how will everything else work? Living with you, your life, the paparazzi? That is the whole point of this charade.”

“You do get down to business. So yes, I would expect you to live in my home. In a separate bedroom, I can set up another room as an office for you. We would need to attend events together and generally appear as a loving couple on the outside.”

“And my debts? That is part of the deal, right?”

“Right,” Tom gazed over at her while eating his pancakes. “I would assume the payments while we are together, and after the divorce is final, I would pay off any balance. I would also take care of your daily expenses while we are married. You are welcome to work if you want, but I will give you spending money.”

“So I would be a trophy wife?” Her brown eyes glinted.

Tom waved his hands in front of him. “Not that is not what I meant… I…”

“I am kidding, Tom. If you prefer, I can not work. I don’t mind. Give me some time to figure things out.” A thought came to her. “What about…” Molly searched for the words. “… other needs? Or if you wish to engage in a romantic relationship?” Her cheeks blushed as the words fell out of her mouth.

Tom blushed as well. “I have great self-control and I think if either of us get to that point, we can discuss it. I don’t want you to feel trapped.”

“And I don’t want you to be trapped either. I guess that is as good of an answer I could expect. Anything you want to ask me?”

Tom stared at Molly. The air hung heavy. “Do you regret saying yes?”

“No. Do you regret asking?”

“No.”

Molly downed the rest of her juice. “Well then, it is all settled. I am going to take off to pack. And you have some shopping to do. My ring size is a 7.”

Tom finished up the last bite of pancakes. “Right. We need to leave here by 3 to make it to the airport.”

“I shouldn’t be more than a few hours. Do you have a key to the room I could borrow?”

Tom fished one out of his discarded jacket’s pocket. “Here I will have the front desk make me another one.”

She tapped the key against her nails. “Thanks, Tom. For the help and for being a decent guy.”

“I should be thanking you.”

“You already have.” She grabbed her purse and headed out the door.

-

Tom headed downstairs, asked the front desk for a new key to the room, and also inquired where the nearest jewelry store might be. The front clerk handed him a key and directed him to a small collection of luxury stores in the hotel. He found Tiffanys and purchased a classic platinum solitaire engagement ring and plain platinum band for Molly and a yellow gold band for himself.

Molly wasn’t back when he returned, so he set about packing up for the flight. His phone buzzed. Luke.

It appears you had a good time in Vegas. The papers say you are drowning your sorrows. Looks like the story is here to stay. Call me when you wake up from your nap at home.

Tom typed back.

I did have a good time. I have a feeling the papers will soon find another story soon. Still in Vegas, taking a later flight. Talk to you soon.

His phone rang. He clicked it off, seeing it was Luke. Rather to get all the yelling done in person. The door opened and Molly came in, dragging a suitcase behind.

“Sorry! My roommate had questions.”

“So does my publicist.”

Tom took in Molly for the first time, really. Outside of the light of a casino floor. And not in a wedding dress purchased for fifty dollars on the way to the chapel. She wore faded jeans, a pair of beat up black Converse and a boxy white tee tucked in. A large black cardigan tucked under her arm. Dark hair in a bun. Quite lovely, if Tom told the truth.

“Are you in some sort of trouble?” Her brows knitted together.

“Not yet.” Tom tucked his phone into his jean pocket. “Here.” He pulled out the little blue bag.

Molly gasped. “I thought you would go buy some costume jewelry. This is too much.”

“Nonsense. This marriage may be fake, but the jewelry will be real.” Tom opened up the boxes. “May I do the honors?”

Molly held out her hand, and Tom slipped off the plastic ring before replacing it with the wedding set. “Much better. And yours?”

Tom slapped the box into her hand. “Be careful with Clive.” Molly pursed her lips as she pulled off the spider ring and replaced it with the gold band, putting the plastic ring in the Tiffanys box. “Here you go. Clive’s new home.”

Tom tucked the box into his luggage. “Ready to go?”

Molly rocked back on her heels. “Yep.”

Tom held out his arm. “Let’s go home, Mrs. Hiddleston.”

-

The flight back was uneventful, Molly and Tom dozed off, leaning against each other for support. Molly woke up first. She stared down at her rings. This was not how she expected this weekend going. Molly thought she would scrap together enough tips to make an extra payment on her credit card. Not flying to London with a Tiffany diamond ring on her finger and a famous actor as her husband.

“Life does throw you curveballs from time to time.”

“What was that, darling?” Tom muttered, stretching in his seat.

“Just commenting on the craziness of all of this to myself.” She held out her hand again. Tom laced his fingers with hers.

“I have done the same thing myself. Now when we land, there will probably be paparazzi around. Are you up for getting this whole thing off and running?”

Molly perked up. “What do I need to do?”

-

Tom tightly gripped Molly’s hand throughout the concourse and baggage claim. They eyed the doors.

“Ready?” she asked, squeezing his hand.

“I promise to be gentle.” Tom squeezed back, smiling.

As they stepped through the doors, Tom flashed a killer smile and Molly did as well, giggling as his arm wrapped around her waist. He leaned over and pressed his lips to hers. Molly melted against him, making sure her rings were visible as she cupped his cheek. She was right, Tom was an excellent kisser. After making sure any photographers had plenty of time to snap a pic, they parted.

“Think they got my good side?” Molly giggled.

“Do you have a bad side?” Tom asked.

“Just wait and see. Now take me home, darling!” She threw her arm over her eyes dramatically.

“Drama queen.” Tom pinched her side.

-

Tom’s home was cozy and clean. Definitely a bachelor’s home, as evidenced by the empty fridge except for a few bottles of beer and some questionable brown sauce.

“I can go shopping later.” Tom dragged a toe along the kitchen floor.

“I can go shopping later.” She reached up and smacked his face playfully. “What kind of wife would I be if I didn’t feed my husband?”

“Fair point. I will call the bank tomorrow and get a card in your name. Just run any big purchases past me first. And we will need to get your name changed, passport, etc. I can have someone help you.” Tom prattled on.

“Why don’t you show me the rest of the place first?”

Tom held out his arm. “This way.”

Tom’s book collection was impressive along with his collection of movies.

“I clear some space if you need it.”

“I only packed clothes. My roommate is selling the rest, including my car and wiring me the money.”

“Oh.” Tom’s face fell. “Let me show you the bedrooms.”

He showed you a small guest room. “This could be an office for you and next door is a bigger bedroom for you.” Tom hustled along the hallway to open the next door. “Here.”

It was a bigger room with a queen bed and a wardrobe. Spare and clearly used for company.

“It will do just fine. And the bathroom is across the hall which is nice. Where’s your room?”

Tom made his way to the end of the hall and opened the door to his room, decorated in tones of grey and navy. A large king sized bed taking up most of the room along with a dresser. A bathroom en suite and a small closet completed the space.

“Very nice. Do you mind if I steal the color palette to decorate my room?”

“Please do. I never got around to decorate it. My sisters and mother are the only ones who stay in there.”

Molly paled a bit. She hadn’t thought about Tom’s family. “I supposed I will meet them soon.”

“I supposed so. It would be odd for my wife not to meet them. I hadn’t thought about it.”

Molly rocked back and forth. “Now why don’t I go shopping and you unpack and relax?”

“I would feel better if I came with you. You are in a different country, a strange city. And what if you have problems with the card?”

“Then let’s go and you can point out some of your favorite foods.”

“It’s a deal.”

-

“When I said pick out your favorite foods, I didn’t expect it to be only sweets. Did I marry a seven-year-old?”

“I’m 35, thank you. and I enjoy those sweets.”

“You eat like a college frat boy.”

“Guilty.”

“That is definitely changing now that I am around. You can’t continue to eat like that. There are things called vegetables.”

Tom snapped his fingers. “I’ve heard of those.”

“Get out of here!” Molly swatted at him. “I am certain you have things to attend to, and I need to familiarize myself with the kitchen.”

“Are you kicking me out of my kitchen?”

“Our kitchen. And yes.” Molly smirked.

“I yield! I yield. I’ll be in my study if you need me.” Tom walked out of the kitchen and towards his study.

He spied his phone sitting on the desk, still off from the flight. By now, any pictures should have been posted somewhere. Tom collapsed into his desk chair and clicked the phone on. While he waited for it to start up, he could overhear Molly puttering about in the kitchen, muttering to herself as she put away the groceries.

Buzz. Ten messages and eleven missed calls. He didn’t bother to listen to them and instead dialed Luke.

“Luke, I’m back in town. Thought I wou—” Tom started in as soon as Luke picked up.

“I WASN’T FUCKING SERIOUS WHEN I SAID TO GET MARRIED??! HAVE YOU LOST YOUR FUCKING MIND?!”

Tom pulled the phone away from his ear. “No, I haven’t. But I am married. To a wonderful girl. Her name is Molly. Molly Bishop. You should meet her, Luke.”

“YOU ARE FUCKING RIGHT I’LL MEET HER. AS SOON AS POSSIBLE! SHE CAN HELP IDENTIFY YOUR BODY, THOMAS!” Luke continued to scream on the phone.

“Can you dial back the volume, Luke? I would like to preserve my hearing. Is there something wrong with marrying the woman I love?”

Luke cleared his throat. Tom understood Luke was doing his best to collect himself. “Apologies. There is nothing wrong with marrying the woman you love, Tom. Nothing at all. Except I don’t think you love this woman, since until a few weeks ago you were in love with—”

“Don’t say her name, it will ruin my marital bliss. I’m a hopeless romantic, Luke.”

“Hopeless, yes. Romantic, the jury is still out. And your fans don’t count, they are blinded by you. But I see the truth.”

“Which is?”

“You are not as smart as you think you are.”

“Did any of the articles mention her?” Tom inquired, spinning his wedding band on his finger.

“No.”

“Then I am exactly as smart as I think I am.”

There was a clatter from the kitchen.

“Tom!” Molly called out. “I need your help.”

“Got to go, Luke. My wife needs my help.” Tom emphasized the word “wife.”

“This isn’t over, Tom.”

“It never is. Bye.”

More clattering and another cry. “Tom!”

Tom rushed into the kitchen to find Molly perched on top of the kitchen counter, reaching high into a cabinet.

“Why is everything so high in here?”

Tom chuckled and reached around her, pressing his torso against her back. Molly jumped for a moment at the touch.

“I’m not used to sharing my space. I’m six two, I put things where I can reach them. What are you grabbing?”

“The roasting pan.”

Tom pulled it down and placed it on the counter. His phone buzzed in his pocket. He ignored it.

“Thank you. Well, I am five six, so unless you want me climbing counters for the next year, we need to rearrange some things.”

“But you’re so cute climbing around like a little monkey.”

Molly frowned. “Is that supposed to be a compliment? If so, then try again.”

Tom opened his mouth and closed it. “I’ll pull things down after dinner.”

“Thank you.” She rubbed his arm. “Now to try my hand at a roast dinner. Did you get stuff done?”

His phone buzzed again.

“I called my publicist. The pictures posted.” Tom pulled out his phone to shut it off.

“Oh good. So I take it, I had the desired effect.” Molly crunched on a carrot and offered one to Tom, who wrinkled his nose.

The two of you. My office 8 a.m. tomorrow. No excuses. I want to meet the blushing bride.

Tom frowned at the screen.

“It would appear so. I suggest you go to bed early because you are meeting Luke, my publicist tomorrow.”

Molly’s mouth fell open. “Should I be worried?”

Tom smiled at her. “No, I should be.”

[l4verq]

remnants (1)

ransom drysdale x reader

in which you have to protect ransom drysdale because he has the same face as steve rogers, your ex who’s gone back to peggy

warnings : fights, guns, hostage situation, tiny bit of violence

if you want to be added to the taglist, lmk in the comments💗

ʀᴇᴍɴᴀɴᴛꜱ

*not my gif*

-

ransom’s seen pretty much everything.

travelled around the world, eaten the finest delicacies, snapped away for five years into non-existence all because of a purple, ball-sack face alien.

or so he thought.

because sitting here cuffed to a chair infront of you barely conscious, he begs to differ.

how did the night get so fucked so fast?

“hey.” he extends his leg, trying to nudge yours desperately.

you were a sight to behold with your hair undone, dark locks tousled around your delicate neck.

but ransom can’t afford to marvel at you, in fact the first thing he needs to do is get the fuck away from you.

because the way you’d jammed that glass cup up that bartender’s throat without a second thought, you were no ordinary woman.

“psst, hey.” He tries again, eyes skimming over the room.

they probably were holding them both for ransom.

hell would freeze over before he gave any of his money to those fuckers who chained him up like a dog.

you stir around slightly as you slowly open your heavy eyes. a groan slips out when you try to adjust yourself, only tightening the hold on your hands.

“good, you’re up.”

you lift your head to see a bloodied ransom across you.

slumping back into your seat, your body cries out in pain at the slightest movements.

as soon as you’d tasted the martini, you knew it was an ambush, thankfully spitting most of it out.

but it was too late, the drug almost instantaneously taking action, making you groggy.

the last thing you vaguely remember is dragging ransom out only to be whacked out cold, seeing stars.

“what’s going on? hey, are you going back to sleep?”he asks, straining his leg out to nudge yours again.

“you just don’t shut up, do you?” you croak out, barely above a whisper.

“i’m being held hostage in this room,” his nose scrunches up, “so, I’m sorry if I’m just a little curious as to what the fuck is going on.”

he looks almost pitiful, dried blood on his forehead and desperation in his eyes.

reminds you of steve after missions when he would limp around, all bruised up.

your eyes flicker over to the one camera pointed right at you, but the way it was angled you knew your hands weren’t in view.

“do you know about the avengers?” you work on dislocating your wrist to free your hands chained behind you.

not exactly your favourite thing but it worked everytime.

he rolls his eyes and quirks an eyebrow.

“you think I don’t know the avengers? the whole ‘saviours of the world but we choose to remain anonymous’ crap?”

“well, you’re looking at one right now.” you give an umamused smile, slightly flinching at the wrench that causes a tear in your ligaments.

he probably wouldn’t have believed you if he hadn’t witness you take down six people with such ease just a few hours? ago.

“anyways long story short, you look just like captain america and for some reason hydra just can’t seem to get over that face of yours.”

he lets out a genuine laugh which only seems to intensify the throbbing pain in his head.

you were a whole other kind of crazy.

“steve rogers? no one’s even seen his face under that dumb cowl of his.” he snorts, noticing the slight shift in your face at the mention of steve.

“andy barber. jake jensen. colin shea. ever heard of them?”

another tear.

he shakes his head, his irritation only growing by the very second.

“a few months ago, each one of them started disappearing one after the other. the only thing they had in common was their faces. they looked exactly like you, like him.”

you clench your jaw as you position your wrist for the final twist.

the last one always hurt like a bitch.

“you’re crazy.” he huffs, in disbelief.

he knew he shouldn’t have gone to that stupid event, not let his mother get in his head like always.

he could be at home right now, in his lavish three bedroom villa overlooking the sylvan surroundings.

but here he was, tied up in a filthy room with an avenger.

you might have to agree with him on the crazy part because you’re regretting the whole dislocating thing when the last twist pulls through, pain nearly blinding you.

he can only watch in horror as he realises what you’re doing.

“no, like you’re actually insane.” he breathes out in disbelief as your hands slip out of the chain.

the door swings open, guns pointed right at you.

a particular face in the middle catches your eye as you recognise him.

“you know you’re not getting out of here that easy, right?” zemo chuckles, “broke those pretty bones for nothing.”

“you get blipped for five years and this is the first thing you do? somebody needs to get a life.” you slowly get up, hands raised (you think?)

you couldn’t really feel them anymore.

“sit back down.” he orders, gun pointed right at your head.

he yells at you to sit down again but the gun’s pointed at ransom now.

“holy fuck, dude, don’t point that shit at me. this is how 99% of the people in movies die.” ransom pleads, his eyes closed.

“he’s not steve, you know that. so, why are you doing this? I mean I know why I’m doing this.” you hesitantly sit back down, your ears pleased for once to hear the familiar whirring.

just a few more seconds. that’s all you needed.

he cocks his head, “doing what?”

“buying time.”

ransom’s seen enough action movies to know the probability of him accidentally being shot by any of the rain of bullets whizzing past you two right now is high.

too high for his liking.

he thinks he saw a red flying thing knock out zemo? before you pushed him down so hard the chair broke.

“jesus christ, are you trying to kill me?” He yells, his back throbbing in pain.

and all of a sudden, it’s quiet,a persistent ringing taking over his ears.

he opens his eyes to see you hovering over his face.

it’s weird, your lips seem to be moving but he can’t hear you.

and it’s all black.

“i just want you to know that what you did back there, that was stupid.” sam glares at you, in the rearview mirror.

“and dumb.” bucky chimes in.

you roll your eyes.

it was going to be a long ride to the safehouse.

the car bumps and ransom bounces around, his head hitting the top.

“jesus, hold him or something.” bucky turns around, looking at ransom’s unconscious body sprawled on the seat.

you scoot over closer to ransom, your hand guiding his head to your lap.

bucky turns back around, a grin creeping up to his face which you just want to punch off.

you look down at the bloody mess on Ransom’s forehead, fingers slightly grazing over it.

it was done with a blunt object, most likely the back of a gun.

you can’t stop staring at his face, the same lump forming in your throat again.

so you force yourself to look away, focus on the trees zooming past until sam stops the car infront of a small house, “we’re here.”

bucky hands you a bag of essentials, waving at you to go in, “we got him.”

the house is actually better than most safe houses you’re used to.

it has electricity and hot water and that’s already made it a top contender.

you head straight for the shower, stripping down to nothing while turning on the water.

you hiss in pain at the contact of water on your aching skin.

the water’s scorching hot but it’s the only way you feel clean.

you scrub off the grime and dirt like always, desperately washing away the dried blood under your fingernails.

a trail of reddish brown water as you wash your hair, nails scratching every surface of your scalp.

quickly changing into a set of clean clothes, you pull out a box of needles.

you’re sloppy with your stitches, maybe cause you’d gotten used to him doing it for you.

throwing your wet hair into a towel, you debate whether to clean his wound up or not.

but your hand is already reaching for the bag of first aid sprawled all over the sink.

“it’s just a nice thing to do.” you mumble, making your way to the living room.

sam’s passed out on the couch adjacent to ransom and you’re pretty sure bucky went out to get some food.

they’ve changed his clothes for him but the ugly bruise on his forehead only seems to be swelling up.

you sit down on the floor, rummaging through the box, pulling out cotton and antiseptic.

“am I dead?” he croaks out, slightly shifting.

you chuckle, looking back at him.

a few dabs of the brown liquid on the cotton.

“this is gonna sting.” You warn him before gently wiping the angry bruise.

he flinches, groaning in pain.

“where am I?”

“safe.”

“yea, that’s really comforting.” he looks up at you in annoyance.

you exchange to a new waft of cotton, still cleaning up the dried up blood.

it’s strange, how weird yet nice your gentle touches feel.

the way your lips slightly part and eyebrows knit together as you concentrate.

ransom never really had someone take care of him like this.

“wher’s Steve?” he asks the lingering question on his mind.

there’d been many conspiracy theories online, each one crazier than the other.

he again notices the slight clench of the jaw, the shift in your position at the mention of his name.

“gone.” you reply stoically, placing the gauze over the swelling wound.

a shit reply but he can’t bring himself to pry further.

you look down at his face, the familiarity of this catching you offguard.

after every mission, he’d force you to sit down and tend to your every wound, every scratch.

can’t have my girl walking around, all bruised up like that.

and you’d force him to sit down and do the same.

it was always so personal, standing between his legs, his hands around your waist while yours worked around.

“hey, you okay?” ransom lifts his head, regretting it instantly as pain shoots up his entire body.

you blink away the tears threatening to spill any second.

“yeah, I’m good. Get some rest.”

you fumble around, hurriedly picking up the first aid kit, your shaky hands doing little to help you.

you were clearly distraught and ransom had a sneaking suspicion why.

-

a/n : i dont even know if u can physically dislocate your wrist yourself lol, im just making shit up as i go lmao

[watchmegetobsessed]

VALERIE - Part VII. (Harry Styles)

wow, its crazy we are on part 7 already! not much left of the story! thank you for the kind words on the previous post, i really need the encouraging, i’ve been having some rough days lately and they always make me smile, so please, if you enjoy this part, make sure to lik/reblog/leave a comment or basically do ANYTHING! please!

word count: 5.8k

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

Staying up until six am was definitely one of your worst decisions, especially at a house with kids who do not know boundaries and do everything as they please. 

You growl in irritation when you hear muffled screaming from outside. Can’t a girl just sleep in?!

“Mmm,” you groan, burying your face further into the pillow.

“Harry! Harry!” Margaret’s bossy voice echoes out in the hallway and your eyes immediately snap open.

Sitting up you realize that you’re still in Harry’s room, more specifically in Harry’s bed, but he is not there next to you anymore, however Margaret’s footsteps are getting threateningly close. She can’t find you in Harry’s bed, she has such a big mouth, your whole family will talk about it in no time and that just can’t happen.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you mumble in panic, jumping out of the bed and before you could process the running shower’s sound, you run into the bathroom and shut the door closed right before Margaret barges into Harry’s room. You even lock the door, knowing well she is nosy enough to come in there as well.

“Harry! Good morning!” her voice comes from the other side of the door and you rest your forehead against it huffing. That was close.

“Good morning to you too, princess!”

Harry’s voice comes from right behind you and it sends a shiver down your spine as your eyes widen. You didn’t even think that he might be in here, and apparently, he was. Turning around you find yourself standing almost toe to toe with a very much naked Harry who probably just got out of the shower. Your lips part first at the sight of him, then you suck them into your mouth, not even daring to move.

“Come and play with us!” Margaret demands. Harry’s green eyes burn into you intently, even when he answers your niece.

“Will be out to play with you in a minute. Go and grab the cards while I finish in here,” he calls out and for a few seconds you forget to breathe, trying your best to keep your eyes up on his face. 

His skin glistens in the light, still damp from the shower, droplets are running down his tattoo-covered chest and arms while his wet hair is falling into his forehead. He is surely a spectacular sight so early in the morning and you almost hate how your body reacts to him without your consent. 

Margaret’s little footsteps move over to the door before she runs out and you hear the door shutting, but the two of you still stand at the same spot. His arm reaches past you and you suck on your breath even though he doesn’t even touch you. Calmly he grabs the towel that was hanging on the door beside the door and he comfortably wraps it around his waist, eyes still burning down on you.

“I don’t mind you watching, but I think she is gone, so…” A small smirk is hiding in the corners of his mouth as he watches you snap out of your trance. 

“I, uhh--yeah. I’ll just… go. See you l-later I guess,” you stutter finally turning around and walking out of the bathroom, Harry’s soft chuckle following you. 

You make your way out of his room quite fast and sprint back to yours. Once the door is shut and locked behind you, back pressed to it you slide down to the floor in desperate need to take a few deep breaths. 

There’s no use to try and convince yourself you don’t find Harry attractive. That would be absolute bullshit, because then you wouldn’t have slept with him years ago in the first place. What frightens you however is that your newly funded friendship with him is taking away the hatred that kept you away from him all these years and you are starting to see him in a completely different light. And that cannot happen, not when you think your life is changing for the better.

You have Marcus now. You have a balanced, healthy relationship with a guy who seems to be the perfect fit for you. There’s no need to ruin everything because your stupid crush on Harry is making a comeback. 

“Get your shit together,” you tell yourself pushing yourself up from the floor, shaking your limbs out a little. You have an entire day ahead of you spent partly with Harry, you can’t lose your mind.

***

The weather is oddly warm, so following breakfast almost everyone moves outside to the backyard to soak the late december sunshine in. Aunt Teresa and your mom are taking a look at the little flower pots at the corner of the terrace, taking guesses what kind of plants will push out from the ground once spring comes. The kids are running around playing tag, making the best out of the huge backyard and endless possibilities of outside games while you sit with Lily and Jeremy, Valerie in your arms, feeling a little tired after her breakfast. Rosa put her into an overall and a fluffy hat, only her sweet little face is out, a hint of blush tinting her cheeks. 

From the corner of your eyes you see Harry walk out and he stops next to you, squatting down so he can take a look at Val.

“Hey there, Princess,” he grins widely and Valerie starts babbling to him, as if she was having a whole conversation with him while he hums along, pretending to understand every word.

If you are being honest, seeing him for the first time at breakfast after your bathroom encounter, especially with that smug smirk playing on his pink lips, you needed a few moments to get your thoughts straight, but luckily, Harry didn’t tease you about it, not even for a second, so soon enough your nerves settled and you were able to feel comfortable around him again. 

Valerie reaches out for him and he looks into your eyes asking for permission to take her from you.

“All yours,” you smile letting him lift her up from your arms and holding her in a sitting position he leaves to slowly walk around the backyard and show her the many wonders of nature around us. 

“He is so good with kids,” Lily speaks up and tearing your eyes away from Harry, you see that she is looking in his way too. 

“He is,” you nod turning back in his direction. He is showing her a dried out, brown leaf and she is watching him twirl it around in his hands as if it was one of the seven wonders.

“I’m glad Rosa chose him to be the godfather. I’m sure he and Valerie will be best friends. And she has you too,” Lily smiles at you. “You two are the perfect godparents.”

You just smile at her shyly before turning your gaze back to Harry. He catches you watching and murmurs something into Valerie’s ear before taking her little hand and making her wave in your way. Chuckling you wave back and mentally you not how you want to remember this picture forever. 

After lunch you help Teresa and Etta wash the dishes while Jeremy, Lily, Joe and Harry settle for a round of scrabble at the dining table. When you’re done in the kitchen you join them, pulling a chair next to Harry you take a look at his letters.

“I have absolutely no idea what to do,” he sighs, fingers tapping on the edge of the table.

“You have a word, and you could make it go through the triple,” you tell him, Joe and Jeremy looking up at you with a mixture of shock and anger.

“Hey, no help from outside!” Joe points at you, but you just chuckle taking Harry’s letters into your hands.

“Is it your turn?” you ask him before you’d put them down to the board. Harry nods and curiously watches you put his letters connecting to a T that was already there.

“Crottle?” Harry asks reading out the word once you are finished, the E ending up on the tile that triples the score of the word.

“I’m 99 percent sure it’s not a word,” Jeremy huffs, clearly annoyed Harry just took the lead with your word.

“It is,” you smile proudly, leaning back in your seat.

“And what does that mean?” Joe chimes in. 

“It’s a kind of lichen. In Scotland they use it to dye wool. Look it up, I’m telling the truth,” you chuckle seeing the doubtful looks.

“It is, look,” Lily tells him, handing her phone over, she probably just searched for it. Jeremy reads it then hands her back her phone, mumbling something under his breath before adding the scores to Harry’s column.

“How do you know this word?” Harry asks with a soft chuckle, but you just shrug your shoulders, folding your arms on your chest.

“I don’t know. Probably heard it somewhere.”

“Clever,” he smiles and as he turns back to the board his hand reaches over and gives a gentle squeeze to your thigh above your knee.

It’s such a short and insignificant action, doesn’t even last longer than just a second before his hand moves back to the table, but you find yourself thinking about how his touch felt even minutes later, when it’s his turn again. This time he has an idea of his own, luckily you don’t have to help him, because if he asked you to, you couldn’t have come up with anything, mind still stuck on that one touch.

Before dinner the kids find a few huge bags full of fallen leaves that must have been collected through the fall and they are quick to make a big mess, gathering the leaves into one enormous pile and they start jumping into it, no matter how many times their parents tell them to stop making such a mess. They just keep telling them that they’ll clean it up. 

“I used to love doing that,” you smile at them, sitting outside on the veranda. Harry turns to you grinning.

“Why don’t you join them?”

“What?” you chuckle. “I’m not a kid anymore.”

“Stop being so lame! Come on, I’ll jump in with you,” he offers and standing up he holds out a hand for you, but you just shake your head.

“I’ll pass.”

Harry rolls his eyes and you really think he’ll just move on, but the next thing you know is that he throws you over his shoulder, running down to the pile of leaves as you scream from the top of your lungs, demanding to be let go.

“Oh, I’ll let you go, don’t worry!” he chuckles and you already know you stand no chance against him. His strong arm is curled around your thighs too tight, there’s no way you can escape. 

“Harry! Please don’t thro--Fuck!” you scream when with one swift and elegant move he throws you off his shoulder, tossing you right into the middle of the pile, leaves flying everywhere as the pile swallows your body. 

You instantly hear the kids' laughter and when you push the leaves out of your face you stare up at a grinning Harry who is very much satisfied with the work he just did.

“Very funny and mature,” you grimace, but can’t hide the smile that tugs on your lips. 

“It is. Come on,” he chuckles holding out a hand with the intention of helping you out of the pile, but you have a better plan. 

Getting a strong grip of his hand you pull on him forcefully, hoping you have enough strength to pull him out of his balance and bring him down into the pile beside you. 

Luckily, your plan works out. He wasn’t expecting your revenge, so he easily loses balance once you pull on him, making him fly straight into the pile next to you, leaves rustling under his body, making an even bigger mess than it was before. 

“Hah! I bet you did not expect this!” you scoff once his head pops out from under the dry leaves. He shoots you a murderous look before launching right at you and soon enough a whole fight blossoms where the two of you are constantly throwing handfuls of leaves at each other, trying to bury the other into the pile. 

“Okay, okay, stop!” you shriek when your hair is full of crumbles and you’ve been rolling around for quite a while. Harry is kneeling beside you, hands full of leaves, ready to attack any moment.

“I only stop if you say that you’ll never plot anything against me and that I’m your one and only true king.”

“What?” you snort. “I’m not saying that!” Harry is quick to throw one handful of leaves right into your face making you scream again. “Alright! Alright! I will never plot anything against you!” you hold your hands up, trying to stop him from throwing the other bunch from his hand.

“And?”

“And…” You look at him, holding your laughter back as he patiently waits for you to finish. “And you are my one and only true king.”

He takes a deep breath through his nose before finally throwing the leaves away. He holds a hand out for you, but you stare at it hesitantly.

“Don’t be such a baby, I’m not gonna do anything,” he rolls his eyes, but you see the hidden smile on his lips. At last you take his hand and he helps out get op from the ground. Your pants and hoodie is filled with dirt stains and crumbles, it’s gonna take a while to get them out of your hair as well.

“You two are worse than the kids!” Lily laughs as you and Harry basically do a walk of shame, getting inside the house all dirty and muddy.

“All his fault!” you say, holding your hands up innocently.

“Uh-huh, no one believes that,” Harry snorts.

“Since I look like this because of you, I’m gonna take a shower in your bathroom. I need the luxury to wash this all off myself,” you state walking down the hallway.

“Only after I’m done in there.”

“Hey!” you snap pointing a finger at him. “The least you can do is to let me go first!”

“You have to beat me, Love,” he smirks and the two of you launch at the same time.

You knew you’d stand no chance, since you have to get all your stuff in your room before running into his, but you still tried. Holding your towels and showering and hair products to your chest you barge into his room, only to find it completely empty, the bathroom door closed.

“Ah, fuck you!” you call out with a frustrated growl, but just as you are about to leave, the door opens and Harry peeks out.

“It’s cute you thought you could beat me,” he chuckles walking out and holding the door open for you. Walking past him you stick your tongue out at him before you shut the door behind you and after a moment of hesitation you lock it. 

It feels great to wash the dirt off yourself and when you step out of the shower you feel like a new person. You wrap your hair up into one of the towels before curling the other one around your body. Gathering your things you hold everything to your chest tightly, this way holding the towel as well as you walk out of the bathroom. 

Harry is lying on his bed, scrolling through his phone when his eyes snap over to you. He doesn’t shy away from taking a long look at your uncovered legs as you walk around the bed heading to the door.

“The bathroom is all yours, thanks for the chance,” you smile shyly.

“So you’re not staying to wash my back? Not a nice way to treat your king!” he teases you, but you just roll your eyes at him before walking out of his room and shutting his door. 

Even though you know it was just a joke, your mind wanders over to the scene where the two of you shower together, hands touching and feeling up each other. You suck on your breath, shaking your head, trying to get rid of the thought as you lock yourself up in your own room while Harry is probably over at his bathroom, just getting under the hot water. 

***

After dinner you all gather in the sunroom, wrapped in fluffy blankets, drinking tea or hot chocolate, Aunt Monica of yourse scotch, and you start opening gifts one by one, watching everyone’s reaction.

Of course, the kids go first, tearing their presents’ wrapping apart as they reveal all the new toys. Dolls, board games, books and video games, they are truly spoiled, but with such a big family they can always expect some pretty cool gifts. Then it’s the adults’ turn. Sitting on the sofas and armchairs, you hand around the boxes and watch each other get surprised.

Your mom and dad have bought you a beautiful gold ring, one you’ve been talking about for ages after the first time you saw it at a shop. Rosa and Steven ordered a bunch of books from your Amazon wishlist and framed a montage of you and Val, it was truly a sweet gesture.

From your cousins and aunts you get some clothes and gift cards to your favorite places, just what you’ve been needing. 

“These ones are the last,” Rosa smiles up holding two not too big gifts, an excited smile pulling on her lips. “They are from Valerie, to her amazing godparents.”

She hands one to you and one to Harry and you place it carefully on your lap. Exchanging a look with Harry the two of you start opening the wrapping paper at the same time. As soon as the glittery paper is gone you can’t help the smile that pulls on your lips. Seems like Rosa had a thing with framing pictures this year, because you are looking down at a photo of you, Valerie and Harry from a few weeks ago.

It was taken in their backyard and you’re holding her in your arms, smiling widely as Valerie is giggling happily at her mother behind the camera. Harry is standing close to you, one arm around your shoulders, his other hand holding Val’s tiny hand. He is hunching down a little to lessen the height difference between the two of you, a genuine smile plastered across his handsome face. 

“Thank you,” you breathe out feeling a little sentimental about the photo. Seeing the three of you so happy and carefree in one picture reminds you how much things have changed since Valerie’s arrival. She really is the reason why you and Harry are now… friends. Yes, you definitely see him as a friend now instead of an enemy. 

Gift opening ends and you all just stay there in the sunroom, talking and laughing, but your eyes wander over to Harry, because there is one gift left that hasn’t been opened. You bought it quite randomly and you don’t even consider it a real Christmas gift, but you’ll give it to him anyway. Later, when it’s gonna be just the two of you.

“You know, if someone showed me this picture a few months ago I would have told them it must be photoshopped,” Harry chuckles sitting down next to you. The kids have whined long enough to play one round of UNO where everyone plays. You were the second one to get rid of all your cards, Harry following you in the next round so now you are left out of the game that is seemingly taken very seriously by everyone. Loser has to clean up all the wrapping paper, so no one shies away from throwing in their best cards.

Harry is holding the framed photo in his hands, he got the exact same one, but in a darker colored frame.

“Crazy, right?” you chuckle. “I think it’s our first photo together since the wedding,” you say thinking about it.

Harry nods realizing you’re right. You had one photo taken at the wedding. When Rosa and Steven were having their first dance they asked everyone else to join them at the end and Harry was quick to ask if you wanted to dance with him. Naturally, you said yes, so you slow danced, not even noticing that the photographer snapped the moment when your cheeks were pressed together, your arms hugging his neck as he held you close by your waist. 

You still have that photo saved on your phone, though it brought you quite some pain when you first saw it, the memories from that morning flooding back to you ruthlessly when you scrolled through the pictures a few weeks later.

“It was time we had a new one,” he smiles at you and that smile means a lot to you. It shows that your newly funded friendship is just as important to him as it is to you. It’s nice to know he is not just acting so Rosa wouldn’t worry about the two of you. You successfully overcome that stage by now. 

It’s nearing midnight when the party dies down and everyone slowly starts to return to their rooms. You do the same, using Harry’s bathroom to shower without even asking him. He just chuckles when you walk in. He is already in his night clothes, scrolling through his phone.

When you’re done you’re walking past his bed, but before you leave you stop at the door.

“Harry?”

“Hmm?” his eyes move up to you.

“I have something for you.” Harry looks at you a little puzzled, but you don’t go into details, just go back to your room.

Just as you were expecting, he follows you and by the time you throw your dirty clothes into your suitcase he is standing at the door. You grab the little box and sit on your bed gesturing to him to do the same. Curiously eyeing you, he closes the door and joins you, a small smile tugging on his lips.

“I got you a Christmas present,” you tell him smirking in excitement, and you see his face completely fall.

“Fuck, Y/N, I didn’t know you would, so I didn’t get you anything. If I would have known--”

“Shush, it’s not even a real gift. Just a little something that reminded me of you.”

You hold out your hand, palm facing up as the box sits in the middle. Harry hesitantly glances down at it, back at you and then his eyes settle on the box as he slowly takes it. You watch his fingers work on it, gently opening the little paper box that you didn’t even wrap.

The little silvery keychain slides out into his palm and he examines it with furrowed eyebrows, reading the two words it forms.

“For fuck’s sake,” he chuckles shaking his head when he finally realizes what it says, holding his gift up that reads ‘twerk it’ and it even lights up if he switches it on at the back.

“I just saw it and it screamed for you, I couldn’t not buy it,” you laugh, enjoying the scene a tad bit too much. It’s a subtle reference to the night in the bar when the two of you sang together at the karaoke machine and Harry swore he did not twerk in the middle of the performance, but you remember it clearly, no need to deny. You’ve been teasing him with it since then constantly and thought it would be funny to take it a step further.

“I’m… speechless,” he chuckles, carefully sliding it back into the box. “I’ll put it to my keys. I’ll always know which one is mine,” he shakes his head.

He stays in your room and the two of you are quick to start chatting about anything and everything. Harry tells you about Christmases at his family and you think how fun it all sounds, wishing you could go with him tomorrow. 

“When are you leaving in the morning?” you ask. The two of you are now comfortable in bed, an unspoken agreement has been settled that you’re sleeping together again. Deep down you were hoping for it to happen again, but you weren’t sure how it would stand with Harry, you thought he only agreed to it last night because you both were drunk. But when he slid under your covers when he was in the middle of a story you smiled, knowing he won’t be leaving tonight.

“Um, I have to leave before seven. My flight is at eleven and I need to get my stuff from my place before I head to the airport,” he sighs, fidgeting with the pillowcase as you are both lying on your sides facing each other. “Do you have a lift back home?”

“Yeah, already talked to Aunt Monica,” you nod into the pillow. 

Harry lets out a yawn and buries his head deeper into the pillow, making himself comfortable. His eyes flutter closed and you use this chance to take a good look at his peaceful features. He truly is a beautiful man, no doubt about that. You wonder if he realizes that about himself too, or he thinks otherwise.

Reaching to the nightstand you turn the lamp off, bringing darkness over the room and turning back to face Harry you try to relax and fall asleep, but it’s not really working. There are too many thoughts whirling around in your mind and quite a few questions you want to ask him. 

“Harry?” you whisper, hoping he hasn’t fallen asleep.

“I still think you have a good ass, if that’s what you want to ask,” he mumbles keeping his eyes closed. You let out a chuckle.

“It’s not.” You see his eyes open as he glances at you waiting for you to tell him what’s on your mind. “Why were you such an asshole that morning?”

Out of everything you’d ever wanted to ask, this is the most burning question you’ve been dying to find an answer to since day one. Now, after such a wonderful time spent around each other your confusion about his actions just grew way bigger and you just couldn’t keep it to yourself anymore. This side of him you got to see during the holidays is nowhere near the one that kicked you out of his room in the morning, but a lot like the one you first met the night before. The switch between these two sides was so fast and unexpected, you couldn’t wrap your head around it, not even years later.

His jaw clenches and he stays silent for quite a while, you start to think he won’t even answer, but then he speaks up. 

“I… don’t know. I panicked.”

“From what? Me?”

“I just…” Sucking his bottom lip in between his teeth he bites into it harshly before letting go of it. “This is how it has always been. This is what I always do.”

“With other girls?” you ask and he nods. 

“But I do realize that I was an asshole. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I’ve never felt more humiliated.” Your voice dies at the end as you feel your throat closing up. Even after all these years you still remember clearly how his words made you feel. 

“I’m so sorry, you didn’t deserve to be treated like that,” he breathes out and reaching out he quickly pulls you into his embrace. You bury your face into his chest without a second thought as you try to swallow your tears. “I fucked up, I’m sorry.”

“You could have just told me you didn’t want anything serious. It wouldn’t have been that painful than being treated like a slut,” you mumble, his hands soothingly caressing your arm over his stomach and your back. 

There’s a short pause before he speaks again. “I know. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

It’s the last thing that’s spoken. Once you have gotten it all off your chest, you feel relief and calmness coming over you as Harry keeps gently stroking your skin. Sleep comes to you faster and easier than ever. 

It’s bright outside when you turn around in bed, arm reaching out, expecting to find Harry lying next to you, but it’s just the empty mattress. Taking a deep breath you open your eyes and realize that you in fact are alone in your bed. Checking the time on your phone you see that it’s already past nine, meaning that Harry might even be at the airport by now. Pulling your knees up to your chest you stare down at the side of the bed where Harry slept. You can’t help, but feel disappointed he didn’t even say goodbye, but he probably just didn’t want to wake you up.

You shuffle over to his room and it stands empty. Sitting down to the edge of the bed you stare out the window, an unsettling feeling boiling inside you as you think about Harry flying away from the country. It’s silly, you know he is just going to see his family, but selfishly you wish he stayed there with you the whole time and the two of you went back home together. 

Walking back to your room you see that you have a new text. It’s from Harry. Opening it you see that he just sent you a video. It’s nothing else, but his hand as he locks his home’s door, turning the key twice, his keychains and other keys jingling in his hold and that’s when you see the gift he got from you yesterday. You can’t push your smile down.

“Have fun at home! X” you write him quickly, and he is quick to like the message, no reply. 

It’s a whole blur between Christmas and New Year’s Eve, you spend time with Marcus, clean up your apartment for the new year like you usually do, get some work done between the holidays and go furniture shopping with Rosa and Steven. In just a blink of an eye you are getting ready to head out to this lowkey party Marcus invited you to tag along for New Year’s Eve. You didn’t really have plans, you usually did something spontaneous with one of your friends or colleagues. Last year you were with Rosa and Steve. She was already heavily pregnant so it was a rather quiet evening, you were in bed by one am. 

It seems like this year is gonna be a little more excited, but you are just not that thrilled to celebrate, if you’re being honest, but you go anyway. 

It really is just a small gathering with food and drinks in a nice apartment downtown. Everyone seems nice and Marcus makes sure to include you in every conversation so you don’t feel like a stranger. 

When the clock strikes midnight he pulls you close and kisses you softly as everyone cheers and glasses a clinking around you. Soon enough the phone calls and texts start flowing in and everyone seems caught up in all the well wishes as the first minutes of the new year pass by. 

Harry’s name is the last one to pop up on your screen, but he is calling you instead of just shooting you a text. Excusing yourself you step out to the balcony so you can hear him.

“Hey,” you breathe out answering the call.

“Happy New Year!” he cheers, some chatter coming from somewhere behind him and you wonder who he is celebrating with.

“Happy New Year,” you smile wrapping your free arm around your figure. You should have brought your coat with you. “Having fun?”

“Yeah, but no one wants to do karaoke, I have the lamest friends,” he tells you chuckling and you let out a laugh.

“Should have invited me too.”

“Definitely,” he huffs. “That way my face could have been the first thing you saw in the new year!” he jokes and you laugh letting your head fall back.

“I truly missed out on that, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, shame.” You hear someone call out his name and he shouts back a quick reply. “I gotta go, but happy new year again, Y/N,” he softly says into the phone, his voice sweet like honey.

“Happy new year, Harry,” you smile before the line cuts off.

Your gaze wanders over to the bright city lights ahead you and a thought runs over your head, sending a shiver down your spine.

Why did you enjoy this short conversation with Harry way more than the kiss you shared with Marcus at midnight?

***

You watched your sister and her new husband slow dance in awe. The bright shine in her eyes was something you were sure you’d never forget. You’ve seen the fill up with tears so many times, you wished you’d only see her like this for the rest of her life.

After the second half of the song couples started joining them on the dancefloor, including your parents and cousins with their spouses. A soft sigh escaped your lips that you wouldn’t share this feeling with them, but then a hand appeared in your sight.

“Want to dance?”

Harry was smiling down at you with so much charm, you felt a little stunned at first, just staring up at him with parted lips before you realized that he was waiting for your answer.

Sliding your hand into his, you tried to ignore how the warms of his palm made you shudder and after you stood up he walked you right to the dance floor, the two of you turning to face each other. It took a few seconds to figure out where your hands went, but eventually it all came together and you started dancing, chests pressed together and you were very aware of his hand on your waist. You’d had a few champagnes by now and you could definitely feel your cheeks heating up from being so close to him.

“I have to tell you this is my first time slow dancing with a guy,” you admitted biting into your bottom lip. Harry turned his head a little so he could look into your eyes.

“Really? What about school dances?”

“I was�� I never had a proper date at them. Usually went with my friends.”

Harry’s eyes lingered over your gaze and for a heart beat, they wandered down to your lips before his green orbs returned to your eyes. You felt his hand squeeze your waist gently as a smile tugged on his lips.

“It’s an honor to be the first one.”

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[plush-rabbit]

Oh My Baby, I Love You

Warnings: NSFW

Word Count: 4.6K

A/N: Did I take liberties with the things from the series like Kiri and Suneater?? Yes. Yes I did.

Toyomitsu Taishiro loves his work. He loves walking around and have people, more often than not kids, run up to him and ask for a picture, happy to see him and bouncing in their step when they gaze upon him. He enjoys the things that his work has brought. The good and the bad. The bright, smiling faces of the people he has saved and the angry, distorted faces of people who would commit such atrocities. He protects with everything he has, smiles wide and eyes determined. 

He’s rarely seen without his fat. Only using it in dire situations and once lost, always quick to eat and round in the belly that makes him appear soft and loveable but at the same time strong and willing to protect even if it truly does mean to use all he’s got.  

He has two kids he’s mentoring, Kirishima Eijiro, with a brilliant quirk who has the spirit of a hero, and Amajiki Tamaki, a boy who puts himself down before anyone else can but who is already as strong as a pro. He protected Kirishima, who allowed him to be able to take the shield down, who still didn’t recognize him since all his fat was used as an attack. He thinks that was the moment it clicked. When he went to check on the boy in the hospital, a tray of untouched food in one and a bag of treats in hand, he felt proud when the young child told him to sit and share, was listening with every fiber in his being as the child recounted the story of the night and how the hospital staff was kind. There was an odd sense in him that wanted to hug the child when he winced and pulled on a healing injury, who wanted to pet his hair and coo words of courage into his ear but he knew that it wouldn’t be seen as how he would have meant it. It would have been laughed off, perhaps, or maybe he would have delighted him in his role as a mentor, to allow him to pretend that he truly did have a child who was out protecting the city with the same fierce excitement that Kirishima has. 

On the trek back home, a bag of greasy food in one hand and mouth stuffed with french fries, he took notice of all the families he saw. He saw little children crying and sniffling as their parents kissed their scraped knees, smiling through the tears and nodding that they felt better. He saw children being carried on their parent’s shoulders, a tight grip on their ankles as the child screamed through fear and excitement. He saw with his two light golden eyes, families that stayed close together and smiled as they walked hand in hand, swinging their children through the air, hands intertwined as they watched the child play on the swingset in the park.

Food could no longer fill the void. This void was not his stomach, no it was worse than that. It hurt to think about it for too long, aching every time he saw a child, felt itself squeeze when he saw your sleeping form and placed a hand over your stomach hoping to feel a difference- hoping to feel a kick. 

He desperately wanted a child. Wanted a family with you. To come home and see you and a little bundle of wheat colored hair sleeping on your chest. Wanted you to swell with his love as the eldest ran up to him, ran up to his father, and showed him a picture they drew of him while he was away.

He thinks you want one as well. You’ve never voiced it but you let him please you without protection, without a quiet mumble to pull out and let you taste him on your tongue. No, instead you allow him to go deep in you, to feel your gummy walls clench around his member and wrap your legs around him when he pumps you full of his seed.

You gave him enough trust to have his way with you, to envelop you and fill you until you had begun to leak, covering it close with your hand but still having it drip and seep between your fingers.

He never tells you, a part of him is fearful that it would be too much and you would find it disgusting and another part knowing that what he already leaves in you is too much. But every  time he’s in the shower, with a tight grip around his already twitching cock, he’s never satisfied, he’s never filled you until he was content, until he was empty. He always pulls himself away, never wanting to hurt you and with enough self control to realize that perhaps you don’t want the life he wants. So instead he goes into the shower and bites down on his hand as he watches his cum flow down the drain. A thought always crossed his mind as knees trembled and breath slowly became steady: perhaps that’s why you weren’t getting pregnant- because he never did the full job. 

He stands in front of the door, key in hand and he chuckles bitterly, shaking his head and clicks open the door, his face brightening instantly as he smells your cooking. Eyes look around for a glimpse of you, thoughts that perhaps he doesn’t need a family to be happy, he already has you and you’re more than enough. But when he sees you in a frilly apron colored pink with a dark red heart in the middle of your chest those thoughts are quickly flushed away. You’d be the cutest little housewife. He could do his job, you can be at home with the children and at night he could fill you up all over again. He can feel his cock jerk at the thought of it. 

He knocks on the table and you startle. You look at him with wide eyes, posture stiff until you realize it’s just him. “I didn’t expect you back so soon,” your voice is calming and you smile at him before returning to stirring the meat on the skillet. “How is Kirishima doing? I was thinking I could bake something for him and you could take it over next time you go.” You’re so caring, so sweet to care about a child that you had never met before.

“He’s doing great! I’m sure he’ll be out by tomorrow or even tonight if he’s lucky.” He’s cheery when he talks about the students he’s mentoring. “How was your day?” Large hands wrap themselves around your waist and he places a kissing the space where your jaw meets your neck.

You lean towards him, feeling his body against your back and humming. “That’s good to hear,” you muse. “My day was fine, I just went shopping today and had lunch with some friends.” You crane your head and kiss his chin, smiling when he presses his face closer to yours. “Dinner should be ready in a few,” you mumble against his skin, placing one last kiss on him. 

He hums and with reluctant hands slipping off your waist, he goes to the bathroom to wash up. He splashes water on his face and looks at himself in the reflection, swiping a hand down and drops of water splash into the sink. The cold water on his skin does nothing to cool down his warming body. Hands inch down to wear his cock is straining against him, pressing into the cabinets. He lets out a shaky sigh and pulls himself away, shaking his head.

“Get it together,” he says to himself, grabbing a towel and wiping his face with it. “I can get through dinner with them and then we can go to bed.” His face burns at the thought of the bedroom, already picturing himself between your thighs. He hears his name called, muffled through the closed door and he nods, licking his lips and smoothing back his hair.

You’re setting down the plates, drinks already set and hair pulled back and you look up at him as he enters the dining room. “I tried a new recipe today,” you push a strand of hair behind your ear, “I hope it tastes good,” you give him a sheepish smile that makes him want to scoop you in his arms.

So he does. “I’m sure it will,” he mumbles against your neck, face nuzzling into you and hands pressed against your back.

“Someone missed me,” you chuckle, petting his hair and humming when he presses another kiss to you.

“Missed you like crazy.” He makes no intention to let go, pressing you closer against him and breathing you in,hands that slide down to the small of your back.

“Tai,” you whisper softly, fingers entangled in his hair, “our food is gonna get cold.”

He peels away from you and throws his head back as he walks to his plate. “I’m getting my fill later,” he says nonchalantly, grabbing a forkful of the dish you made.

“You always get your fill,” you tease, slipping into the seat across from him. 

He’s silent, eyebrows furrowed as he bites into his food, letting out a satisfactory hum. “Ish really good!” He exclaims, hand covering his mouth as he talks.

You smile widely at him, proud at the meal you cooked. Idle chatter began to fill the room, back and forth where he would comment on your day, little hums and nods to show he was still listening. You shook your head, stifling a smile as you recounted lunch with your friends, waving it off as an inside joke. You cleared your throat and turned your interest to him.“So what else did you do today? Were you with Kirishima all day?” You take a sip of your drink and look at him expectantly. 

“Oh no, not all day,” Taishiro says in between bites, “I took the long way home after I stopped by to get some food.”

“What did you get?”

“Just a burger and fries.” He pats his stomach and grins at you. “Gotta build up all that weight again.”

“If I had known that you wanted to fill up quickly, I would’ve made more than two servings.” You smile apologetically at him and lean back into your chair. “Sorry dear, guess I forgot.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” he waves a hand towards you, taking the last bite out of his dinner. “I can always carbo load tomorrow.” He glances up at you and kicks your leg gently underneath the table. “If you want you can help me load up?” He feels his chest swell when you smile at him. “I always love your cooking.”

You scoff and roll your eyes, a playful smile on your lips. “Flattery will get you everywhere, you know that Taishiro.” He feels a chill run up his spine when you say his name and he leans forward to you. “How’s the other kid? Amajiki?”

“He’s doing great, you know? With his resolve and great power, he’s sure to be a top hero in no time!” He’s also so excited when he talks about them, standing straighter with a bigger grin on his face that shines so bright that it reminds you of the sun. 

“You’re always so passionate about those kids,” you smile, taking the last sip from your drink, “I’m sure when we have our kids, they’ll be great too.” You start to put your utensils on the plate, wiping your mouth with a napkin. 

Taishiro’s face falls and eyes go wide. He has a blank expression and he’s staring at you with his mouth slightly agape. “What?” He asks softy, barely above a whisper.

Your shoulders jump and your eyes go wide, the fork in your hand drops onto the porcelain plate and makes a high pitched chinking sound. You snap your neck up at him that it hurts, your mouth pressed into a thin line and heat rising onto your face. “I, um,” you trail off, “I have to go do the dishes!” You jump from your seat and reach across to grab his finished plate and scurry off to the sink.

He stares at your empty seat, his mind empty of all thoughts save for the sentence you had just said before you fled. You wanted kids too. Or at least it sounded as if you also wanted a family too. And then he didn’t respond to you. Oh no. He didn’t respond. The chair scrapes across the wooden floor and he walks swiftly in the kitchen where the water pressure is on high and your hands are covered in soap suds. 

“Um, can we talk?” He sounds nervous even to himself. His voice is strained and he feels uncomfortable staring at your back as you keep your head down. 

“Sorry can’t hear you!” You raise your voice comically. “Water is too high!” 

He snatches a dish towel off of the oven handle and presses his stomach against your back. The room is silent without the sound of rushing water. He can feel his heart beat against his chest and he wonders if you can hear it too. “I-”

“I’m sorry!” Your head is bowed down and he can see from the space between your hair that your ears are deep shade of red. “I was just talking out loud. I mean it’s silly. We’re not even married-”

“We can get married.” He interjects quickly and takes a small step back when you turn around. He brings his hand in between the both of you and hands you the dish towel. 

You take it with shaky fingers and twist it around your hand. “That’s,” you pause, “that’s not a funny joke Taishiro,” your eyebrows knit and you can’t make eye contact with him, keeping your gaze focused on the towel knotted in your hands. 

“‘S not a joke.” He clasps his hands over yours, fingers dipping into the towel and your own fingers flinch and coil tighter with the faux touch. “I really love you,” he licks his lips and bends down to look into your eyes. “I can get a ring soon and actually propose but this-” he gestures with a finger to you and him- “I  want to be with you.”

You nod slowly and chew on your bottom lip. He can see unshed tears brim. He releases his hands from your and brings his hands to cup your face, thumbs rubbing small circles into your soft skin. “Hey, hey. What’s wrong?”

There’s a slight shudder in your chest and you take in a breath. Your cup on  his hands and turn your face, lips tickle his palm as you begin to speak. “I want kids, are-”

“Kids would be great. I want kids,” he has the desperate urge to hold you tight and never let go, “Kids now would be great.” When you turn to him sharply with eyes wide, he retracts. “Kids whenever you want would be great.”

“Taishiro,” you whisper and step into him, wrapping your arms around him as the decorative dish towel flutters onto the floor, “are you sure?” 

“I cum in you for a reason don’t I?” He jokes.

He laughs when he hears your offended gasp. “Taishi!” You playfully slap his arm and pull away, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. “I thought that was just a kink!”

The mood in the air is lighter, more playful, as he laughs and grabs your hands and presses your face into his chest, his laughter causing deep vibrations. “It is a kink! I swear!” He feels your knee thwack his. “I also want a family!” He pulls away from you and holds your face in his hands, hands reaching behind to undo your ponytail. Your hair falls into a fluff and thick fingers brush away at strands. “I want it all with you,” he smiles softly and presses his forehead against yours with closed eyes.

“Yeah, I want it all with you too,” you whisper. “Wait,” you straighten, eyes narrowed at him. “You came in for the kink or the family?”

He snorts and rolls his eyes. His hands intertwine with yours as he leads you to the bedroom. “You let me cum in you.” He retorts.

“Yeah, cause it’s hot, if I had known you wanted to breed me I would’ve let you done it a lot sooner.”

He looks back at you with a raised eyebrow. “You wanted to be bred?” 

You huff and cross your arms, sitting on the bed with one leg crossed over the other. He can see bright red bloom down your neck. “Can we just-” you clear your throat and uncross your legs, fingers around the bottom edge of your shirt.

You look away from him and bite on your bottom lip. He steps forward and sits on his knees, hands placed firmly on your knees. “You need to tell me what you want, sweetheart.” His voice is lowered and he looks at you with all seriousness, eyes clouded and hazed over.

The corner of your mouth twitches. “Taishiro,” you coo, two fingers coming to lift his chin, “please, I want you to breed me. I want to start a family with you.”

-

There’s a deep silence for a moment, one where you are more exposed than you’ve ever felt before, one where it’s just you two alone, no external factors that could ever ruin this moment. It’s a moment that weighs so heavily, like a comforting blanket and then it’s ripped away as quick as it was brought.

His mouth is on yours, hands that collide with each other as they travel lower and rise, mouths breaking apart for a quick gulp of air. Exposed skin that bumps with the chilled air, hands that warm the chill away, fingertips that ghost over bellies and rising chests. You forget where you start and end, only feeling his mouth against yours, your fingers knotted into his hair and you can feel him grin against you, your own grin coming into shine.

Your back meets the bed, giggling as you pull away, your lips chasing his, eyes clouded with lust. He snickers and starts to pepper kisses down to your neck, hands slide their way up to your breasts, nipples pinched in between soft fingers, rolling the hardening buds around, soft gasps escape from your mouth and you can feel heat begin to bubble in your lower belly. 

His mouth leaves wet marks as he travels down, bright red love bites are left in his wake. Hands slide down your body; he grabs your hips with fingertips digging into your hips and you can feel hot breath against your heat, moistening the inner parts of your thighs. His lips trial up your thighs, lingering kisses that stick against your thigh, a tongue that swipes against your burning skin and with his lips that cover your slick ones, mouth wrapping around your clit, tongue pressing flat against it, moving the sensitive bud around, the hands twisted around his hair tightens and pulls him closer against your wanting heat. He mumbles softly into your skin, telling you to be patient. His lips release from your aching bud, his tongue rims around your entrance, pushing forward and tasting your sweet nectar, his tongue pushing and brushing against your gooey walls, your arousal staining his face as he breathes in your scent. 

You cry out, muffling your moans with the back of your hand, his hair ruffled and sticking up. There’s a slight hump in your hips when his fingers intrude upon your walls, your slick coating them as they pump in, rubbing along your walls, pressing down on your walls, little whimpers of pleasure sounding out. 

“You know,” his voice has taken a slightly darker tone, “I won’t let you come so easily this time.” He looks at you, eyes half lidded and voice heavily laced with lust. 

“Don’t-Don’t be such a tease Taishiro,” you say through gritted teeth. 

He moves his mouth closer to you, his chuckling sends waves of vibrations deep into your core. The  fingertips against your skin, dip into your skin, nails dragging and creating little red marks sink into your plush skin. 

He moves his mouth away from your throbbing heat, his chin glistens with arousal, his cock is standing at full length, bouncing as he crawls forward and captures you in a kiss, moaning when your tongue swipes across his bottom lip, tongue brushing against his, your kisses sloppy and lazy compared to his harsh ones that press deep into your skin, chest that ghosts over your own. 

He hisses and eyes shut tight when your hand wraps around his member. Fingers that spread wide before closing in on the gaps, your thumb brushing against the slit, pre-cum coats your thumb and you drag the self-made lubricant across his cock, your hand squeezing around him, pumping slowly as he hides his face into your shoulder, mouth wide open, moistening your skin.

It’s known to the world that with his quirk, he is able to expand. His body expands to what he eats- that includes his entire body. A cock that stretches you wide and makes you feel as if you’re being torn apart, filled until the tip bulges in your stomach, lewd sounds coming from you while he fills you with his seed. As his body regains fat, every part will expand proportionally, widen and  grow until it’s limit. And as he tries to regain his absorption, he’s currently bigger than average, making your hands seem small against him. 

“Taishiro,” you coo, your face flushed and mouth watering, “please,” you whisper and thrust your hips, moaning when his cock head brushes against your clit. 

“Say what you want me to do, buttercup,” he bites your neck and soothes it with his tongue when you hiss. “I want to hear ya say it.” He presses kisses under your chin, your free hand claws up on the bedsheets and shakily rising to grip his bicep.

“I-” you clear your throat and take in a deep breath, looking deep into his light golden eyes- “want you to breed me Taishiro. I want you to fill me with your cum.” In your hand, you feel your get covered in his leaking arousal.

He presses a kiss on your lips, your bottom lip turning a bright red and he places his hand over yours, leading his cock to brush against your sopping entrance. There’s a harmonious groan that comes out of both of you as he enters you, his cock pushing through your gooey walls, expanding inside of you, your walls molding around to fit his shape.

“You’re still so tight around me,” he chuckles breathlessly, “ah, I’m gonna fill you up, you know.” His grin is wide and wavers ever so slightly to moan as you thrust your hips upwards, face scrunching in a mixture of pleasure and pain for you. 

Your hands go and grasp his face, watching him intently with lips slightly parted and face a sinful shade of red. “Yes, Tai-Taishiro, breed me,” your face scrunches in pleasure and hands fall from his face, he grasps a hand and brings it back to his face, turning his head and pressing a quick kiss the open palm of your hand, “I want a family with you, I want it all with you,” you whine, closing your eyes and arching your back when he hits deep inside of you, walls pulsing around him and coating him in your slick.

“You're going to be so beautiful,” he can feel his eyes get glassy, shining with tears of joy, “I’m going to take such good care of all of you.” His head dips down and he lets out a strangled groan, breathing roughly.

Already so close to reaching his high, he starts to ramble, his lips pulled into a shaky smile, “I’m already so close, heh,” he grins at you sheepishly, “you do this to me. Just by saying you want a family with me,” he buries his face into your neck and lets out a whine, '' I'm so lucky,” he breathes out.

“Taishiro,” you wrap your legs around him, heels digging into his soft flesh and pushing him closer to you, “I can feel myself about to cum,” you mewl, the tight build up in your stomach becoming too much with pressure.

“You’re going to be such a good parent. Y-You and me both. You’re going to be so gorgeous, so fucking st-stunning. Fuck,” he lets out a good, choked cry, eyes brimming with tears. “Your breasts are going to be full of milk, swollen and leaking, just like your pretty, little cunt,” his hips shudder against yours, cock beginning to leak with his cum.

Your gummy walls encass his hard member, wet, slick noises come out of you with every pump, muffled whimpers into each other's skin as you hiss with thrust, your arousal leaking out and dripping down your thighs.

You cry against him, face scrunching as your own high approaches. You move a hand down to your hidden pearl, gasping when you begin to massage it, little shock of pleasure adding to the tension building in your lower belly. “I’m gonna be your little housewife,” you whimper, “I’ll be so good,” you swear, there’s a rough drag against your forearm as you pleasure yourself, fingers trying to keep the steady pace you set for yourself.

White stains your lips and the bedsheets underneath, his leg jittering as he continues to pump himself in you, cum has begun to overflow and through glossy eyes, he thinks he can make out your swelling belly filled with his cum. “You’ll be such a good mother,” he leans his forehead against yours and closes his eyes, a tear slipping out and staining his face, “I get to come home to you and-” a hand comes down to rub your belly, the extra weight causing cum to spill out of you- “we get to be a family.” Ecstasy courses through his body, cock twitching as cum sputters out.

With those words leaving his mouth, the tight coil snaps and your legs press against him tightly before falling to a limp, the hand lost between your sweating body falls to the side. Your mouth is open into a low moan, face pinched into an “O” shape with your head thrown back. Your high leaves you feeling as if you’re on pins and needles, whole body shaking and the slow pumping of Taishiro leaves you quivering. Your hand comes to cover your blushing face, a dazed smile spreading onto your face.

He pulls out of you with a wet squelching hand and a blind hand searches to cover up your leaking entrance, the cum seeping out in between your fingers, letting out a whine and kicking your heels in the bed sheets.

“It should stick.” The bed groans under his weight as he collapses, chest sinking heavily. “Gave it my all,” he smiles, shaky hands pulling your body close to him.

“‘S a lot more than usual,” you mumble against his skin, you feel fingers brush away the hair that sticks to your face, running fingers down your hair. “Were you holding out on me this whole time?” You ask teasingly, lips quirking into a half-hearted smile.

“Promise not to do it again,” he whispers, legs tangling into yours and arms loosening as you shift in his grasp. “I love you,” he breathes, craning his neck back to watch your already droopy eyelids and deep breathing rising from your chest.

“Love you too,” you mumble with eyes closed while a heavy hand searches for the covers.

He mumbles against your skin and with aching legs, he covers the two of you, complaining about laundry tomorrow, you give him a weak laugh and pull him close with beckoning fingers.

[iamtheblondestblonde]

Temptation

AN: I... I don’t even know what to say except for I’m so sorry? We had some tech issues at work today and I had this idea while I waited and it didn’t fit with Slides so here’s some plot with porn at the end with Mat? I wrote this in first person narrative but there’s no name or description in it. Also this is my first time writing anything like this and I didn’t spend much time proof-reading so please don’t judge too harshly

AN 2: I wrote a sequel called No Control and you can find it here so please check it out!!

Word count: 7.4k (things escalated what can I say..)

Warnings: cursing and smut, like really explicit content

He was only wearing a towel. Again. Seeing him walking around in nothing but shorts was already bad enough but this was on a whole other level.

When Mat had first invited me to come with him to his lake house by Vancouver to wait this mess out I had been thrilled. Fancy lake house overlooking the water with my best friend definitely sounded better than stuffy Brooklyn apartment in a city crammed with thousands of people infected.

Thankfully my online classes made the journey across the country possible and I only had to fly back for a short while to take my final exams. This wasn’t really how I envisioned my summer after graduating college but it could be worse I guess.

As I took a look at him all glistening wet from his shower on his way over to me by the kitchen island, I felt like I was trapped in an episode of temptation island or something like that.

Neither of us had expected this lockdown to last this long and almost two months of being holed up together was starting to take its toll. I’d known for a fact that I’d go batshit crazy if I were to stay with my own family or my crazy roommate though so his offer had truly been godsend. With the fancy club I usually waitressed at closed there was no way I’d be able to pay for my rent either, so I’d given my landlord my notice, put everything that I wouldn’t take with me in storage and followed Mat across the country.

His family was supposed to be up here with us and that way I’d have his sister as a distraction, but they’d decided to stay in the city, meaning it was only Mat and I. And my sexual frustration.

It didn’t help that my quarantine buddy looked like a fucking Greek god either. Any nun would probably go for him as well, frustrated or not. And I was definitely not a nun.

“Do you want to go paddle boarding after breakfast? The water shouldn’t be too cold today with the sun out.”

I looked out through the large floor to ceiling windows at Mat’s question, I’d been so distracted by him running around practically naked that I hadn’t even noticed that for the first time in three days there were almost no clouds visible. With May well underway British Columbia was apparently finally getting ready for summer.

“Yeah let’s do it. I still have to respond to a couple of emails before we leave tho.”

He took a look over my shoulder at my laptop, water droplets from his hair falling down my neck making me squirm.

“You’re getting me all wet”, I huffed before giving him a shove. Not thinking about the way his muscular shoulders felt underneath my fingers at all. Definitely not thinking about that. Nope.

“You’re the first girl I’ve ever heard complain about that you know?” He winked at me before throwing his head back in laughter as I flipped him off. The flirty banter that had been going on between us ever since we met almost two years ago wasn’t really helping my case either.

I was convinced the only reason why we hadn’t hooked up yet was terrible timing. We’d met at a time when both of us were seeing others and by the time we both were single again the previous months of platonic friendship had set our relationship in stone, never allowing for anything more than playful flirting and teasing. I’d thought about it for a couple of times, because honestly who wouldn’t with the way he looked?

Mat filled a cup with coffee and grabbed some of the breakfast I’d prepared before pulling out the chair next to me, looking at me expectantly. I was still munching on the remainder of my overnight oats so it took me a couple of seconds to swallow before I could ask what the hell he was waiting for.

“For you to finish whatever it is that you need to do. I have nothing else to do”

“I can’t concentrate with you hovering over me like this. Go work out or something.”

Mat had a really nice gym set up in one of the rooms and let me tell you if I had to pick one place to plank for the rest of the life, it would definitely be in there so I could at least watch the calming water while I died such a slow painful death.

“I already worked out, that’s why I just got out of the shower.”

“Well then put some fucking clothes on, you’re not some cave man who can get away with only wearing a loincloth”, I exclaimed, slowly getting flustered with him in such close proximity while knowing that one tuck could expose him completely. He cackled but got up nevertheless, making his way back towards his bedroom.

“Me being naked is yet another thing no one has ever complained about either, you wound me.”

“I’m sure Tito would disagree!”, I yelled, desperate to have the last word so I could at least keep some semblance of control in this situation. I could hear him laugh all the way from the other end of the house and quickly shook my head so I could finally get some things sorted out before he got back.

With the way the sun was shining right now I could probably get away with wearing only a t shirt over my swimsuit, which was a lot better than the full-on wetsuit we’d donned whenever we’d spent our time doing any water activities over the past few weeks. Although Mat in a wetsuit was truly a sight to see, with the way the fabric clung to him so tight that you could see every ridge of his muscles underneath.

I hustled through my emails, ready to relax for the day. Perhaps I could even start on my summer tan already, being out on the water always sped things up. Thankfully I’d bothered to bring lots of clothes and a bit of online shopping had closed any gaps that I had in my wardrobe, this bikini being one of the new acquirements as well. It was super cute and my butt looked really good in it and it would look even better once I finally got my tan going.

Mat was already lounging on the couch in the living room, scrolling through his phone and looking annoyingly perfect as ever. I knew for a fact that he hadn’t done anything with his hair and it looked so soft that I just wanted to push my hands through it. And pull it until he groaned.

“That one’s new”, he immediately said once he lifted his gaze to look at me, pulling me out of my fantasies. I hadn’t put my shirt on yet so he was getting the full view of me in the bikini, which might have been on purpose. I knew that quarantine must be getting to him as well and he wasn’t the only one that could be a tease.

I nodded, biting my lip before twirling around so he could get all angles. “You like?”

This bikini was a little bit skimpier than the ones he’d seen me in before and I could tell by the look in his eyes that he wasn’t as relaxed at the sight as he pretended to be. Finally.

We grabbed our paddles and boards and slowly made our way out on the water. It still took me a couple of minutes to find my balance, no matter how many times I’d done this before but eventually I managed, Mat now slightly ahead of me. If I had my phone with me I would definitely take pictures of him right now, they’d be outdoor magazine worthy.

“Come on slow poke, what’s keeping you?”, he yelled over his shoulder and I was tempted to splash him but I already knew that that would end up in a fight I couldn’t possibly win so I only stuck my tongue out before working to catch up.

At first we kept close to the shore but eventually we slowly made our way out farther onto the lake, laying down on our boards to enjoy the gentle up and down of the water. The sun was hotter than anticipated so both Mat and I ended up taking off our shirts and using them as pillows instead. I closed my eyes to keep me from staring at him, instead relishing in the way the sun warmed my face.

“This is what life should always be like”, Mat sighed contently, breaking the comfortable silence.

“You’d miss hockey eventually. You belong on the ice.”

“Probably. But right now I’m not missing a thing ‘cause I got everything I need right here.”

I didn’t want to look at him out of fear of what I might see on his face, only giving him an affirmative hum instead.

-

“You’re seriously the best”, Mat sighed after emptying his drink yet again. I had decided that tonight would be taco night and made some margaritas to accompany them, both of us a couple of glasses in by now. It honestly could be a Tuesday but who even knows anymore. I was convinced that at least part of the reason why Mat had asked me to come with him was because he liked my food so much, especially when I cooked Mexican.

The sun was setting over the lake and we were sitting outside on the porch so we could watch the sun set above the water, music playing quietly in the background. He reached for the pitcher and I grabbed the golf club leaning against the sofa we were currently sharing, even though there was lots of space to lounge elsewhere.

Now I didn’t really like golfing, in fact I thought it was among the most boring sports to watch and not much better to play, but I did like to swing at the ball as hard as I could. I’d found some golf balls that would dissolve into food for the fish so for the last couple of hours Mat and I had taken turns in trying to get the ball as far as possible, both of us with a subpar form that only got worse after every margarita.

“No you need to rotate your hips along with the swing”, Mat commented and I threw him a look over my shoulder.

“You’re not much better you know.”

“Yeah but I’m also stronger than you so I can hit harder.”

“I’m not sure if that’s how it works Matty.”

For my next swing I made sure to exaggeratedly turn my hips with the movement, causing me to lose balance of course. In a split second Mat was there, his big hands resting on either side of my hips so I wouldn’t fall.

“Good reflexes”, I giggled, letting my head drop back onto his shoulder so I could look up at him, our eyes locking in an intense stare. He was standing so close to me that I could feel his breath fan across my neck it was very tempting to take the little step that was needed for me to be pressed against him completely. I knew I shouldn’t be thinking about him like this, but the alcohol wasn’t exactly helping.

I could see him swallow hard, closing his eyes for a second before reluctantly letting go of me. “It’s what they pay me millions for you know.”

“Cocky little shit.” And just like that we fell back into our old rhythm again. I pushed any and all dirty thoughts out of my mind and instead focused back on my golf swing.

With every sip I felt myself relax more, the amount of alcohol in the second pitcher definitely stronger than in the first. I knew that Mat felt the effect of the alcohol as well by now, the way his gaze would turn unfocused from time to time giving him away.

I gave him a curious glance when he got up, knowing for a fact that him with a golf club would be a dangerous combination if he tried anything right now. To my surprise he walked over to the box where all the blankets were stashed, pulling out the fluffy grey one that I liked most before spreading it across both of our legs. He surprised me even further when he wrapped his arm around me, pulling me close to his side so I could rest my head on his chest. While behavior like this wasn’t completely unusual for the two of us, it had been a while since we last cuddled. It was as if Mat had been careful to not get too close up until this point, his resolve now gone.

“You know, I really like knowing things and learning how stuff works, but sometimes I just wanna be a kid again who doesn’t have a clue. I remember how I used to think that every star was a little fairy like the ones in Tinkerbell or something, I don’t know. The world used to be so full of wonders and now it’s all science this psychology that, you get me?” I listened to him ramble, the alcohol making him stumble on his words a couple of times as he tried to figure out how to properly articulate himself. I’d listened to his drunk thoughts for years now, still amazed at his ability to get all philosophical out of apparently nowhere.

“Kinda yea, but I also think there’s still lots of wonders left, some of them having to do with science. Why do comatose patients wake up? What must it feel like as a surgeon to be able to give someone a new heart, a new life? How can we know so much and yet still be wrong so many times? So the way I see it there’s still wonders, you just got to know where to look”, I finished my rant, looking up only to see Mat intently staring down at me. This wasn’t our first drunk real talk, but the way I was wrapped in his arms somehow made it feel more personal.

“By the way, I think I got lucky because I wasn’t even looking and yet I still somehow ran into you”, I continued, needing him to understand his importance to me all of the sudden. He’d truly been my rock over the past few months, keeping me from going insane as I approached the final stretch of my senior year. He’d reminded me to take care of myself and practically forced me to whenever I didn’t.

I couldn’t even count the amount of times I’d crashed at his place because my roommate was having some kind of crazy rager in our apartment, effectively making it impossible to study. He’d even offered up his spare bedroom once he moved into his new apartment but I declined because I wouldn’t be able to afford the rent at this place and I wasn’t about to leech off of him when I had other options.

“You are my wonder too, you know. I couldn’t have wished for a more supportive friend.” I smiled up at him, drunk happiness mixed with genuine love for the guy that had slowly turned into the most important person in my life. We’d come quite far.

It didn’t take long until the both of us were yawning so frequently that it was impossible to keep up a conversation, quickly gathering everything so we could go back inside. I hadn’t even realized how cold it had gotten until Mat’s arm dropped from my shoulder and my legs were exposed again from underneath the blanket.

“You wanna have a sleepover?”, Mat asked grinning at me cheekily while walking across the living room. Never one to say no to cuddling with Mat, even before all this quarantine horniness, I nodded before dashing off to my room to get ready.

Mat was already snuggled under the covers and he lifted up one side as soon as he saw me getting closer. He liked to be the big spoon and because that was one of the best feelings in the world I basically let him do whatever until he deemed our sleeping position comfortable. He’d definitely pulled me a little tighter than he usually did, our bodies now practically touching from head to toe.

He’d tangled up one of his legs with mine and my back was flush to his chest, his face nuzzled into the back of my neck. He had wrapped one arm around my waist so even if I wanted to leave or move, I wouldn’t be able to. It was like a big perfect Mat cocoon.

As I laid there listening to his breathing slowing down I thought back to what Mat had said on the paddle board a couple of days ago, about how he had everything he needed right here with him. I knew that that wasn’t exactly true because he missed his family and even if he denied it I knew he missed hockey as well, but he’d also admitted to needing me with him and I would be lying if I said that I didn’t feel the same.

-

A few rays of sunshine had lit up Mat’s bedroom the next morning, but that wasn’t what had woken me up. Mat was calling for me from the ensuite bathroom and I could faintly make out the sound of water running.

“I need you to bring me your shampoo, I’m all out”, he yelled and I groaned before slowly rolling out of bed. In daylight I could make out the mess his room had become, clothes littering the floor and every other surface and I almost stumbled over a set of weights on my way out of the door.

I grabbed my shampoo out of my shower and even reached for the conditioner for good measure. His hair had gotten so long by now that it would surely appreciate the extra attention.

Making my way into the bathroom I was faced with a problem that I hadn’t thought of up until this point. The lake house was pretty new, meaning the interior design was cozy yet still modern. Meaning all bathrooms were equipped with big glass showers. Meaning that there was currently no shower curtain preventing me from seeing Mat fully naked in the shower.

I could close my eyes but I would 100% trip over his clothes that he’d strewn all across the bathroom floor so my only option was to try and keep my eyes up high. Keyword being ‘try’. At least he had his back turned to me but I was still mesmerized by the water running down his body and the way his back muscles rippled as he reached up to push his hair out of his face. And that ass..

I slowly approached the shower, praying that he wouldn’t turn around to face me but also kind of hoping he would. I opened the door a little bit so I could set the bottles down inside and thankfully he stayed put.

“Don’t put the conditioner on your roots or your hair will look greasy”, I said on my way out and even I could hear how breathless I sounded, the view having my thoughts run a mile a second.

As soon as I had the bathroom door closed I squeezed my eyes shut to try and regain my composure. The image of him in that shower was one I wouldn’t be able to get rid of for a long time. I couldn’t even take a cold shower to cool down because Mat had my stuff and he’d know something was up if I were to simply rinse myself off and I couldn’t exactly tell him that the sight of him naked had gotten me all hot and bothered.

So instead I decided to use all of my pent up energy to go on a run, hoping for the runner’s high to clear my thoughts. By the time I got back Mat was laying in the corner of the couch, an episode of The Office on the big flatscreen.

“We need to go to the store later”, I reminded him, knowing that I couldn’t walk in on him naked again without losing the little control I had left in my body. He nodded and then looked me up and down and for a second I was embarrassed. Even with only wearing running shorts and a sports bra I was still drenched in sweat, probably looking disgusting.

At least he’d put my stuff back so I could finally shower in peace, my thoughts still wandering back to earlier this morning. I wouldn’t have turned him down before all of this shit started but now that I only had my own hands and trusted toy to take care of myself, I was borderline desperate. Two months without sex was the longest dry spell I’d had in years and I couldn’t imagine Mat feeling any different. I knew from firsthand experience that he brought lots of girls home as well. Perhaps he needed something to happen as much as I did.

It was hard to believe that his shampoo had just been empty all of a sudden without him noticing first and then there was the fact that for the past few days he’d been parading around the house in only his boxers or towels.

Two can play this game, I thought to myself, pulling on a comfy shirt and some tight booty shorts, foregoing a bra which he was bound to notice because of how it stretched over my chest.

I pretended not to notice how Mat almost choked on the sip of water he’d just taken as I made my way into the living room, walking over to the kitchen to grab my own bottle. Even if I couldn’t see it to confirm, I was pretty sure that he was staring at my ass as soon as I turned away from him. For good measure I even made sure to lie down with my head in his lap, murmuring something about how he’d taken up the best spot so he really left me no other choice.

The first few minutes he didn’t move an inch, resembling a statue. I knew that he could feel my boobs pressed against his thigh and I made sure to shift a couple of times to make sure before placing one of my hands on his thigh. Eventually he relaxed and even went as far as to rest one of his hands on top of my hand, slowly moving his fingers through the tangles in my still wet hair. When he accidently pulled at a few strands I let out a content sigh while simultaneously digging my nails into his thigh out of habit. I pretended to not hear him groan lightly and instead gave him the most insincere apology of my life, thoughts now definitely elsewhere.

I was royally screwed. Or actually I wasn’t, and that was becoming a big problem.

-

I’d made it my personal mission to get a reaction out of him as much as I could. Mat was the same, I hadn’t seen him wearing a shirt in days. It was like this competition to see who could make the other one snap first. Currently I was making breakfast in nothing but a shirt and my panties. Granted, the shirt went to my mid-thighs because I’d stolen it from Mat a couple of months ago but still.

One of my upbeat playlists was playing over the speaker system and I was dancing around in front of the stove, careful to not let the our breakfast burn.

“What a sight to wake up to”, I heard Mat’s voice behind me and his hoarse morning voice did things to me I would never admit out loud. I gave him a cheeky grin over my shoulder and wiggled my butt for good measure as my favorite part of the song came on.

“Can you set the table? Breakfast is almost ready”, I asked and he nodded before moving to grab everything. We’d gotten our morning routine down to a t by now and I couldn’t help the warmth that spread in my chest at seeing him do something so domestic. Our friendship had certainly evolved since practically moving in here together. It would actually be weird to not have him around constantly once all of this was over.

The day continued like most of the days before, us lounging on the couch after working out together for a while. It was something we’d made a habit a while ago. His trainer knew that I was with him so he’d give Mat tandem exercises from time to time or he’d ask me to take videos so he could make sure that Mat’s form was okay. I certainly didn’t mind the view.

Mat was always hot of course but there was something to be said about the way he looked after a workout, all flushed and just downright delicious. It was definitely a great motivation to join him in the gym.

This time I had managed to snatch the corner seat and I was sprawled out on the couch, Mat’s head resting on my stomach. While I’d managed to put on some shorts he was of course still shirtless and I’d given in to temptation long ago, my fingers now slowly running across his back. He had one of his arms thrown across my stomach, hand resting on my hip and drawing slow circles on the little patch of skin that had been exposed when my shirt had ridden up. While cuddling wasn’t unusual between the two of us, this was certainly new territory, the show we’d been watching kind of forgotten by now.

“Use your nails”, Mat pleaded and his voice was so raw that I would’ve done anything he asked of me at this point. He let out a groan when I softly raked my nails across his back and I was glad that he couldn’t see my face right now. There was a spot on the left side of his back that would cause him to shudder slightly, goosebumps spreading quickly. I found myself watching him in awe, fascinated by the reaction I could get out of him by such a simple act.

I couldn’t stop myself from wondering what kind of damage I could do if I really worked for it.

-

It finally happened a couple of nights later after yet another day filled with sexual tension so thick that you could probably cut it with a knife.

Mat helped me clean up after dinner, music playing to help speed things up. I was in charge of taking care of the leftovers while he cleaned up everything else. Obviously I was done before him and since he refused to let me help him I hopped on top of the kitchen counter, making casual conversation while watching him put stuff in the dishwasher.

“This is my jam!”, he exclaimed, quickly wiping his hands clean before motioning for me to come dance with him. I shook my head while laughing, which only led to him grabbing me and lifting me off the counter so I would join him.

His moves were ridiculous, arms kind of just flapping around. I knew that he could dance if he wanted to, we’d been to our fair share of clubs together but right now he definitely wasn’t trying. He held his hand out for me and with a laugh I accepted, letting him spin me around as he wished. The third time while he was spinning me back towards him he pulled a little to hard though and whether it was on accident or not I ended up almost smacking into him, only stopping myself by placing my other hand on his chest.

Both of us were a little out of breath by now and any laughter died down as he wrapped both of his arms around me, pulling me even closer. I looked up at him, gripping onto his shoulder with the other hand. Mat looked down at me with an unreadable expression. We both stared at each other for a couple of seconds, trying to figure out what the other one was thinking at the moment. How had things gone from him twerking to Lizzo to this?

He gulped heavily before bringing one of his hands up to cup my face, ripping me out of my trance. His gaze was flickering between my lips and my eyes and he leaned in a little closer, yet still waiting for me to take the final step. Deciding to throw all caution to the wind I moved my hand to his neck, finally pulling him down to where I wanted him.

When our lips met it was as if everything was falling into place. The kiss started out slow, both of us still kind of figuring out what the hell was going on without scaring the other off. As soon as he realized that I wasn’t going to push him off of me he kissed me back with the determination that he showed in every other aspect of his life. His hands started wandering, first sliding down lower on my back before he moved them to my side, tightly gipping my hips.

I let out a light moan and he used the chance to deepen the kiss, slipping his tongue inside my mouth. He tasted like home and I willingly let him walk me backwards until I could feel the kitchen counter behind me, grateful for the leverage it would give me. He surprised me by lifting me back up on it and then pushing himself between my legs, gripping my thighs.

Eventually I did have to come up for air but Mat apparently didn’t concur to the basic laws of biology because he moved straight to my neck, sucking and biting gently until I was sure that goosebumps covered every square inch of my body. I knew I should stop and think about what was going on right now but I really didn’t want to, so instead I just dove right back into another toe curling kiss. Kissing him had quickly become one of my favorite things and I wanted, no I needed more.

“Mat, wait…”, I murmured against his mouth and he immediately took a step back, looking up at me with an expectant look. I could tell that he thought he’d done something wrong, when in reality it was the exact opposite.

“I want you but I don’t know if the kitchen counter is the right place for that.”

As soon as my words registered with him he groaned, burying his face in my neck.

“Then let’s get you somewhere comfortable… for now”, he teased and the wink he gave me told me that we’d definitely continue this in here another time. I let him lift me down, following behind him as he pulled me towards his bedroom with an urgency that I had only seen in games so far. He was pretty laid-back usually but I could tell that I’d riled him up over the past few days or weeks really.

It seemed like Mat couldn’t hold out until he got me onto his bed though, instead pushing me against the door and leaning down to kiss me again, pushing one of his thighs in between my legs. He fumbled around for a while before finally hitting the right light switch, making the room glow in soft yellow lighting.

His lips were addicting and even when he moved back I didn’t let him, chasing after him for another kiss. Using one of his hands to brace himself the other was slowly pushing up the fabric of my shirt. That wasn’t enough for me so I quickly moved to pull it off. I wasn’t wearing a bra and he cursed as soon as he saw my exposed chest, taking his time to look me up and down.

“So beautiful”, he murmured in awe before moving in again, one of his hands cupping my breast. I let out a moan when he started playing with my nipple which only seemed to spur him on further. I was so turned on already and he hadn’t even done much yet.

Determined to change up the power dynamics I pushed at his chest and he took a step back with a confused look, probably wondering if he’d done something wrong. Confusion turned into amazement as he watched me kiss down his chest before finally sinking down to my knees in front of him.

I took my time kissing his abs and mouthing along the ‘V’ that disappeared into his pants. I could see him straining against his shorts, impressed by what I could make out through the fabric. When I licked along his waistline he let out a beautiful groan and I decided I’d had teased him enough, finally hooking my fingers into his shorts and pulling them down along with his boxers. Him being shirtless already certainly made it easier to get him naked.

I watched his dick spring free, bouncing against his abs and looking absolutely delicious. He was impressively long but it was the girth that truly wowed me, finally making me understand all of the girls that came back time after time.

I gripped his thigh with one hand and reached for his dick with the other, making him curse. When I gave the head a little kitten lick he threaded his hands into my hair, practically pushing me down on him so I’d give him more. I didn’t object, wrapping my mouth around him and taking as much of him as I could, my hand taking care of the rest. The filthy sounds he was letting out above me only making me more enthusiastic and I was pretty sure that he’d have little crescent marks on his thighs for the next few days from how I was digging my nails into his thigh. He didn’t seem to mind though, only moaning my name.

“Fuck, you look so good like that”, Mat murmured and I looked up to him watching me intently. I kept my gaze locked on his as I moved back to let him go, my hand continuing to stroke him but my mouth dropping down to suck at his balls. The moan he let out would have made any porn star jealous.

It didn’t take long for him to pull me off of him in a way that told me that he didn’t actually want to, both of us panting as if we’d just ran a marathon.

“You need to stop or I’m going to cum”, he let out, his hoarse voice turning me on so much that I was pretty sure I’d be dripping down my legs if it weren’t for the fact that I was still wearing some clothes.

“Would that be such a bad thing?”, I teased, grinning up at him, not being able to resist licking up the entire length of his shaft once more. He practically pulled me up to my feet after that, moving in for another searing kiss.

“I’ve wanted you for so long and there’s no way I’m gonna finish before we even started.” He started to push me back towards his bed, changing his mind halfway there as he bent down to pick me up, wrapping my legs around his waist. For the first time I was able to feel him press against me, the thin fabric of my shorts not really doing much and holy shit did he feel good. He sat down on the edge of his bed, me now straddling his lap and I couldn’t help but roll my hips against him, desperate for any friction at this point.

The both of us let out a simultaneous moan at that and Mat buried his face in my neck, slowly sucking along my collarbone. He gripped my waist, his big hands nearly encircling it entirely.

“You’re wearing too many clothes still”, he said with his lips moving against my skin, making me shudder yet again. I’d long lost count a long time ago.

“Then do something about it”, I responded, not really willing to move at this point. He quickly stood up with me still perched on top of him before turning the both of us around, dropping me down onto the middle of the mattress. Him throwing me around like I weighed nothing really did something to me and I looked up at him through hooded eyes, waiting for him to make the next move.

He didn’t disappoint, leaning down to trail kisses from my neck, mouthing along my boobs before finally moving to pull my shorts and panties off. He took his time, making sure to appreciate every new inch of skin that he’d just exposed on the way back up and the closer he got to my core the more I was squirming underneath him. I had been waiting for this for so long that I wasn’t sure if I could make it through another minute without him inside me.

“Mat please, I really need you”, I whined and I could see him smirk up at me from where he’d situated himself between my legs.

“Don’t worry I’ll make you feel so good baby.” Hearing him call me ‘baby’ only made things worse but he finally put me out of my misery when he ran one of his large beautiful fingers through my folds.

“Holy shit you’re so wet for me already”, he cursed and I was about to respond when he literally took my breath away by licking up my slit. I couldn’t help but arch off the bed, already so keyed up and he quickly threw one arm across me stomach, forcing me to stay still. He started out slow and I knew that he was only trying to egg me on further but his resolve didn’t last long and he soon dove in with a determination that had sounds coming out of my mouth that I’d never made before in my entire life.

He moved my legs to rest on his shoulders so he could have better access and because I really needed something to hold on to for dear life, I gripped his hair. He’d said a couple of times that it had gotten too long during this quarantine but I certainly wasn’t complaining now, using it as leverage. I could see him grind against the comforter, desperate for any kind of friction himself and it was the hottest thing I’d ever seen in my life.

He moved back a little and I was about to complain when he slowly pushed a finger inside of me, any words dying in my throat at the feeling. He lowered his mouth again, sucking hard on my clit and I moaned so loud that I was glad that we were alone in the house.

“More, Mat please”, I whispered and I almost couldn’t believe that he already had me begging. He groaned and the vibrations in combination of him pushing a second finger inside of me were almost too much. I was close and I knew that he could tell from the way my thighs were starting to shake, curling his fingers inside me until he finally found the spot that made me cum so hard with a scream that I could see stars. He brought me through it, still pushing in and out slowly when I finally returned back to earth, grinning up at me proudly after wiping his mouth on the inside of my thigh.

“That was so fucking hot”, he said and I laughed, throwing my arm over my eyes in embarrassment. I’d had my fair share of hookups as well but nobody had managed to make me feel this good. I could feel him move up my body, reaching for my arm so he could look me in the eyes again before leaning down for a kiss. I could taste myself on his lips and while kissing him was still amazing, it wasn’t enough anymore. Mat seemed to catch my drift because he rolled off of me, only to reach for his nightstand, feeling around for a bit before triumphantly holding up a foil packet.

Taking advantage of him on his back I moved to straddle his thighs, taking his cock in my hands once again. He bucked his hips involuntarily and I could tell that he needed this as much as I did at this point. I took the foil package from him, ripping it open with my teeth before rolling the condom down his shaft. He gripped my hips, helping me scoot up until I was positioned above him, holding him so I could slip the tip inside.

Both of us let out simultaneous groans when I finally sunk down on him, the stretch painful in the most delicious way. He gave me a couple of seconds to adjust but I wasn’t really willing to wait any longer, rolling my hips against him.

“Your pussy feels so good around me”, he panted as he helped guide me along with his hands while looking me deep in the eyes. His pupils were so blown at this point, his cheeks were flushed and he’d never looked better. I was a moaning mess above him and I wanted to remember the way his cock was dragging against my walls for the rest of my life. One of his hands still rested on my hip while his other grabbed my boob, twisting the nipple and making me moan even louder.

At one point he moved to sit up, our chests now pressed together. The new angle had my clit rub against his pelvic bone and I knew that I’d come again like this with no extra help needed. Mat moved to kiss my neck, sucking and biting so harshly that I was sure that there’d be marks there the next day, not that anybody besides us would be able to see them.

His groans had become more erratic as well and I knew that he probably wasn’t far behind me, my name constantly on his lips. One last drag against him had me arch into him with yet another earth-shattering orgasm, Mat doing his best to fuck me through it before turning us around so he was on top of me, using his hands to hold himself above me so he wouldn’t crush me.

He grabbed one of my legs and pushed it up to rest on his hip, thrusting into me with a force that had the headboard slam into the wall repeatedly. He felt so good that with every thrust I let out a little moan, still sensitive from my orgasm, which only seemed to spur Mat on even more. I was digging my nails into his back to the point where I was sure that there would be red streaks after but he didn’t seem to care at all, too lost in the moment. It didn’t take long before he threw his head back and I could feel him pulse inside me as he came, the most beautiful groan coming from his lips as he finally stilled inside me.

He crashed down on top of me, burying his face in my neck, both of us out of breath by now and covered in sweat. He was silent for a while until he caught me off guard when he started laughing.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m just thinking.. we could’ve been doing that for weeks, I certainly wanted to.”

“I did too but I guess we’re both stupid.”

Now we were both laughing and Mat moved off of me so he could pull out, gripping the condom so it wouldn’t slip off. He threw it in the trash can in the corner before coming back, his hand outstretched for me to take.

“I guess we have some catching up to do then, starting right now with me and you in the shower”, he said with a wink and I couldn’t think of a time where I’d gotten out of bed faster. 

[jimlingss]

The Seven Year Itch

➜ Words: 5.2k

➜ Genres: 99% Fluff, 1% Angst

➜ Summary: The seven year itch is the curse of all marriages. Your own parents divorced after seven years. Your friends separated after that doomed number too. And now, you're trying to prevent the same downfall from reaching your marriage with Yoongi.

➜ Warnings: Implied smut and discussion of sexual topics.

You and Yoongi met at eighteen.   It was during a crazy New Year’s festival on the beach around a bonfire when you were introduced to one another from friends of friends. Much to your mortification, you were totally drunk that night and hit on him while insisting he should make you s’mores since his toasted marshmallows were the best.   The two of you started dating at twenty two after a few years of friendship and a tedious period of time wondering if he liked you like that. That New Year’s Eve was spent on a cute, romantic date holding hands while watching fireworks by the river.    And now at thirty two….   “Did you do anything over the New Years break, Y/N?” Kijung asks as she stirs sugar into her steaming mug of coffee, leaning against the kitchen counter. She’s your colleague of several years now and part of the marketing team that attributed much to the profits and sales — or at least that was your opinion as part of the finance department. But your manager who has a stick up her ass and has a fixation for the research department would adamantly disagree.   “Nothing much,” you reply. “Did you?”   “Not really, but my boyfriend and I went on a road trip on New Year's Eve to the hot springs and we managed to catch the fireworks.” Kijung smiles and your eyes light up.   “Oh, I went there a long time ago with Yoongi. It was nice.”   “Yeah, I really enjoyed it.” Her cheeks are rosy and you muse how pleasant it is to be young and in love. Those old days of dating and shy flirtation seems so long ago. “Did you and Yoongi do anything special for the countdown?”    “I don’t remember…” you murmur gently while you try to recall. These days, everything blurred together. Waking up, eating, television, bed time. “I think we just slept through the countdown.”   “You make it sound like you’re fifty,” Seokjin laughs much to your chagrin, entering the kitchen and firing up the coffee machine.   “Easy for you to say,” you retort back to your coworker with a light scoff. “Weren’t you having back problems a month ago?”   “Nothing my chiropractor couldn’t fix up.” The human resource manager dramatically stretches out his muscles and rolls his broad shoulders as if to prove it. Much too early for his shenanigans, both you and Kijung exchange unimpressed expressions and choose to ignore him even when he begins to loudly protest.   “Oh yeah, isn’t your wedding anniversary with Yoongi coming up?” Kijung asks, remembering that a few years ago, you took a long vacation to celebrate right around this time.   “Yep.” You smile. “Seven years.”   “Wow, that’s a long time,” Jin notes as he sips on his coffee. “My cat hasn’t even been alive for that long.”   You’ve never really thought about it before. “It has been a long time, huh?” you hum.    Kijung grins. “Congratulations.”   “Thanks.”   Time was so gradual, one day after the next, one moment after another. It was only when you stopped to turn around did you realize how long and extensive the journey has been. That you discover that you’ve actually been married to Yoongi for seven years now.   Seven years….   Seven.   Suddenly, it hits you. There’s a sickly feeling pooling in the pit of your stomach. It makes you nauseous like you’ve dropped from a ninety degree roller coaster. It propels you forward, making your mouth and throat dry, your face drained of all colour. You can’t believe you could’ve forgotten—   The infamous seven year itch.

The seven year itch is a curse. It’s known to be the point where marriage satisfaction begins to decline. It’s the average length of a marriage. The point of no return.   To some, it may just be a myth or a simple statistic, but your own parents were together for only seven years before getting themselves into a nasty divorce. And you know friends who were only together for seven years — Hoseok and Jimin were separated six months after their seventh year anniversary. Jungkook and Eunbi left one another before their seventh year…   You can’t believe you’ve allowed yourself to forget about the cursed number seven.   And now that you’ve realized, you’re worried you’ve allowed your marriage to become stale.   “I’m home.”   The house is quiet and dark except for the sound of sizzling coming from the kitchen. You follow the dim light and cross your arms, leaning on the doorframe as Yoongi turns from the stove.   “The patties in the freezer were about to expire,” he says as if to explain what he’s doing and you nod.   “Burgers for dinner then?”   “Uh-huh.” Your husband is dressed in gray sweatpants and a black shirt oversized on his body, dark hair in a disarray as if he just rolled out of bed an hour ago. It might not be too off the mark considering he’s been working from home for a few months now, an arrangement he’s fallen in love with. Namjoon might never be able to drag him back to the office after this.   “I fixed the plumbing issue in the shower, by the way,” he calls out as you drag yourself down the hall.   You stick your head out the door. “You didn’t have to call Taehyung?”   “Nope.”   This was your life with Yoongi. He���s stable, a grounded and secure force, who lives in a consistent routine. It’s peaceful and you love it. It’s all you could have yearned for after your chaotic childhood and crazier teenage years. But now, you wonder if these habits you cherished will someday be your downfall.   This mundanity might breed boredom and then discontentment.   It’s only a matter of time now.   “—took me two hours at the hardware store. But then I managed to find—”   “Hey, Yoongi,” you interrupt him in the middle of his story in the midst of dinner, unable to shake the thought off your mind. There were more pressing matters to you than Yoongi trying to prove to Taehyung that he doesn’t need his help.   The man blinks at you. “What?”   “Do you want kids?”   Yoongi puts his burger down, visibly taken aback by the sudden change of topic. “I mean, if you want to. But I thought we were going to wait until we were finished paying off our mortgage and had more saved up.”   He’s right and having kids won’t make your mundane marriage any more exciting.    If anything, it might just make it worse.   “Where’s the diapers?” you would screech to the other while holding the howling baby in your arms, your phone sandwiched between your shoulder and ear in the meanwhile.   “I thought you bought them!” Yoongi would emerge from the bathroom, juggling the other two shrieking babies in his arms with his shirt unchanged from a week ago and still stained with milk puke.    Triplets, you can envision them as clear as day. A luck of the draw or a curse, you wouldn’t be sure of.   “What?!”   You dispel the horrible vision from your imagination, crashing back down to reality. “Never mind.”   Yoongi catches your long sigh, but doesn’t comment.    That night, you turn to him while you’re both in bed and the warm sheets are pooled around your laps. And more enthusiastically than you intended, you declare, “We should make our sex lives more exciting!”   He flinches from the sheer volume of your voice but it seems to catch his attention and his brows lift curiously. Yoongi puts his phone down. “What are you thinking?”   Your eyes are big and excited and you lean over as if to whisper a dirty secret in spite of being the only ones in the bedroom. “How about...anal?”   Yoongi’s blank expression remains unchanged. “We already tried that and we weren’t into it, remember?”   Oh. Right.   You quickly retract, stuttering and bumbling, “I-I meant you can be the one on the receiving end—”   “We already tried that in college,” Yoongi reminds.   “How about role-playing?” you offer, a last ditch attempt at trying to come up with something creative that the both of you haven’t attempted in your fourteen years of being together.    “We tried that on Valentine’s two years ago. It didn’t work out well,” Yoongi recollects.   “Never mind then.” You sigh, giving up. You’re going to need to put a lot more thought into how to keep your marriage from being so mundane.   But for now, you crawl out of the sheets to the bathroom and Yoongi takes off his rounded spectacles, placing them on the nightstand. He watches your backside with his lips pouted and his brows slightly furrowed, wondering what’s wrong.   //   For the following days, you begin to brainstorm ways to spice up your marriage with Yoongi and keep the seven year curse at bay.   You read a few articles here and there and ask some married folks around the office how they keep their marriages exciting — to which they give you too many details over their sex life that you never wanted. But your attempt at a candlelight dinner ends up with the candles blown out when the tablecloth nearly sets aflame. Yoongi also cooks again when you undercook the fish.    You try to surprise him by getting naked but you give up when he takes too long in the shower and you start violently shivering from the brisk air conditioning. You pull the whip out from the back drawer too to get freaky in bed, but one spank has you cussing him to stop. And when Yoongi denies you of your orgasm, you throw in the towel and call it quits, deciding to go at it the old-fashioned way for just some simple love-making.   The two of you aren’t as young and adventurous as you used to be — it was something you were quickly realizing.   But you weren’t going to give up so easily, not when you were so desperate to keep your marriage with Yoongi alive and keep boredom out of your partnership….   And it’s when you’re putting away the old leather whip to the back of your closet that another box comes tumbling out. It’s a memory box, full of high school yearbooks, knickknacks at amusement parks, and a bright pink book with pages and tabs sticking out of it.   “I forgot I had this,” you mutter to yourself, holding your worn diary that’s filled with memories and nostalgia.   Opening it up, the spine cracks and you’re met with your sixteen year old self encapsulated between the pages. There are scribbles and doodles, entries from random days, notes that you passed to your friends, pictures and movie tickets taped to the pages. There’s even a whole section dedicated to your old celebrity crush — Lee Hyun — and you cringe while reading the small blurbs around cut outs of him describing certain scenarios. First date. First time he held hands. First time he proposes and how the paparazzi go wild and you become famous too.   But as much as you cringe, it’s kind of wholesome.   You forgot what a hopeless romantic you were.   Flipping the page, you’re taken aback by the decoration, vivid colours and washi tape. It lines the paper, bright markers that bleed to the next paper. But what takes your attention is the bold letters at the top. It’s written: Couples Bucket List.    Your eyes skim the rest of the page.

Flowers delivered on doorstep :)

Receive a love letter!!!

Be confessed to***

Be serenaded outside a window!

Dance in the rain.

Go stargazing~

Take a long walk on the beach <3

The first on the list is to have flowers brought to your doorstep — which you muse has been completed many years ago. Yoongi did it once on Valentine’s….mostly because he had to go to work and you were busy running errands with your mom, so he had no other choice but to leave his gift for you at the doorstep. It still technically counts though.   The second goal you have written is to receive a love letter. That would be impossible. Yoongi doesn’t do declarations like that. He’s not one to talk about his feelings. But ironically, the third point on the list you wanted to achieve with your future significant other is being confessed to and he technically accomplished that one too….   In tiny text, there’s a description of your fantasy — how your crush would call you out to the back of the school and declare it underneath that giant tree that kids used to climb. It’s utterly ridiculous but you find yourself standing, grabbing a red pen from your vanity and putting a check mark next to it.   Yoongi might’ve never professed his love in the way you imagined it but you remember how he proposed to you. It was supposed to be in private, but the ring box fell out of his pocket and you noticed, picked it up, and he scrambled to get on his knee in the middle of the park.   You smile at the memory.   The fourth thing on the bucket list is to be serenaded outside your window. And you burst out laughing at the mere thought of it. Yoongi can’t sing for shit and he wouldn’t do it even if you paid him to.   The following point is to dance in the rain, but your husband would never. He hates the rain. Yet the sixth task on the list has been completed. The two of you had gone to a planetarium on one of your first dates and you’ve spent many late nights outside together during winter where you were able to see the stars past the light pollution.   You’ve taken a long walk on the beach too, holding hands and watching the sunset. It’s something you did on your honeymoon and you grin while recalling it.    You flip the rest of the pages in the diary, giving it a skim before you’re about to tuck it back where it belongs, but you hesitate. Your hand tightens on it. You can’t let it go.   There are still things that you have yet to complete.   //   “Hey, do you remember when we used to write notes for each other?”   Yoongi’s eyes are plastered on the television playing some random Netflix original series that was on his recommended section, one you had not bothered to pay any attention to.   He mumbles past his cheek full of food, “Kind of.”   Your eyes pin onto your husband’s profile and you rest your cheek in your hand, elbow propped up on your knee. “We should do that again….or maybe we could write a really long letter to one another.”   It’s still lingering on your mind — the couples bucket list and your unfinished task of receiving a love letter.   “Why?” Yoongi chews haphazardly and goes quiet for a moment to watch the action on screen before he speaks again. “We did that when we were living apart. If I need to tell you something, I’ll just tell you now.”   You hold your sigh in your nose. He’s not wrong, but it was still worth a shot.    You fail to notice the way Yoongi glances at you, obviously aware of your disappointment. But he doesn’t ask. It’s already been long established that you can come to each other for anything. Yoongi knows that you’re fully aware of that. So while he doesn’t pry, it doesn’t stop him from wondering what’s the matter with you.   //   It’s a Sunday afternoon when you’re quietly watching the rain pitter-pattering on the ground outside and against the window frame, spraying like an artist splattering paint on their canvas. It’s showering, enough to collect puddles and to wash the grime off the driveway.   The peaceful sound of the droplets hitting against the roof is interrupted by Yoongi coming up behind you with crossed arms and grunting, “Looks like we can’t pick up groceries today. We’re running out of toothpaste though. Do you want to pick that up tomorrow after work?”   You don’t answer. You merely turn around as an idea flickers into your mind. A mischievous smile spreads into your features and you grab hold of your husband's wrist.   “Let’s go outside.”   It swirls in the forefront of your brain — dancing in the rain.   But at once, Yoongi’s expression blanches and he looks as if he ate rotten eggs. “What?”   “C’mon! It’ll be fun!” You drag the grumpy, old man and he stumbles forward from the sheer force.   He whines childishly, already pouting at the thought of it. “We’ll get wet.”   “That’s the point!”   Yoongi’s not impressed with your antics whatsoever. When you open the door and try to haul him out, he protests and grips the doorframe like a child not wanting to leave a toy store. But he ultimately relents at your insistence and is yanked outdoors to the downpour of pelting rain.   You burst out laughing the moment you see him despite his glare. Yoongi’s black hair shags down in front of his forehead, nearly pricking into his eyes. His clothes are becoming drenched, heavy on his body and dragging down. The sleeves of his flannel pulls past his fingertips.    His tender features are wrinkled into distaste, lips pouted, his eyes unamused and full of hatred of the rain. Yoongi looks like an angry, wet dog.   Unable to resist, you cup his cheeks, lean in and kiss his lopsided mouth. It’s a short peck, one you can’t draw out when you’re grinning and he refuses to reciprocate.   “It’s cold!” Yoongi shouts as the rain becomes heavier.   You giggle and tug on his arm, dragging him further out onto your driveway where the neighbours might be able to see and conclude that the pair of you have absolutely lost your minds — something you’re sure isn’t too far off. But you don’t dwell enough to get self-conscious.   You clutch Yoongi’s hands tightly and slowly walk in circles as if you’re playing ring around the rosy.   “C’mon, husband, you can be more enthusiastic than that!” you laugh much to his dismay.   You step forward and back, dancing stiffly and Yoongi’s body is like jelly. He allows you to pull him along as you please even when you lift his arm, twirl around and land back in them.    “Why are we doing this? Why?” True to himself, he’s trying to act like he’s not at least enjoying this a little bit. You’ve known Yoongi for long enough to see the way he’s trying not to smile and opts for whining instead. “I already showered, you know!”   “You can always shower again!”   Yoongi lets you move his body like a marionette doll, dancing along with you, and your giggles finally lets a smile on his face slip. But at that moment, lighting flashes over the horizon and thunder booms loud enough to shake the ground. The pair of you jump and rush back inside.   You both enter in the midst of laughter and then Yoongi sighs lightly, looking at the mess on the tiled floor. “The floors are all wet.”   “You were going to mop them today anyway,” you cheekily retort and he playfully spanks you, ordering for you to get into the shower before you make an even bigger mess.   The two of you hop in together, but Yoongi finishes faster. He gets himself dressed while you enjoy the steaming water for longer. As he’s drying off his hair haphazardly with a towel in the bedroom, he picks up his phone. Yoongi notices the low battery percentage and searches for his charger. When he’s unable to find it in its usual spot, he assumes you stole it again and pulls out your vanity drawer.   Yoongi doesn’t find his charger, but he discovers something else inside.    A bright pink book with worn pages.   Curious, he picks it up and flips it open. It automatically falls to the doodled page that you’ve been studying most recently these days and he skims it.    After a moment, Yoongi scoffs. But a softened smile stretches into his face.   //   “You’re happy,” Seokjin comments passive aggressively as he observes your expression while stirring his mug of coffee on this cold Monday morning.   “Yeah.” Your grin widens and your dismayed colleague wonders if you know that the week has barely begun. “I am.”   These days, you’re having a lot of fun trying to find ways for Yoongi to secretly fulfill your wishes, even if it’s silly and childish. There were only two more things that needed to be done on your bucket list — receiving a love letter and being serenaded to, things you’re sure Yoongi would rather be killed than be seen doing. But your new fixation and ambition has kept you preoccupied from thinking about the seven year curse approaching in three weeks time.   It’s a win-win. The bucket list might, quite literally, be the solution to the seven year itch. Completing it might just be enough to deter the curse and keep discontentment at bay.    After a long day, you arrive home while brainstorming a strategy to get Yoongi to profess his love for you in a letter — perhaps something you might enlist Taehyung’s help in. But your thoughts are interrupted when after dinner, Yoongi suddenly grabs his coat.   “I’m going out. Don’t wait up for me.”   “What?”    You’re utterly confused at why someone who was as an intense homebody like Yoongi would want to step outside the comfort of his warm home at such a ridiculous time of night.   “We still need toothpaste, remember?” he says nonchalantly. “You forgot to pick it up after work.”   “Oh. Well, I can always get it tomorrow.”   “It’s alright. I’m going to stop by Jimin’s too. That brat keeps telling me I should come over, so don’t wait for me.”   “Okay.” You nod, bidding him farewell. It’s a bit of a foreign sight, one where you can’t tear your eyes away from until the door shuts and he’s gone. You end up surfing the internet and playing on your phone for a good half hour in the serene silence before your boredom spurs on yawns.   You decide to head to bed early and brush your teeth, completing your whole nightly routine.   But before you crawl into the toasted sheets, an unfamiliar envelope on your vanity catches your attention. It's thin and rectangular without postal stamps or an address — only your name written on it in sloppy cursive. You approach the dim light of the lamp on your bedside table to get a better view and you rip it open.    Immediately, a gasp tears out of your mouth.   Your heart stutters in your chest. Your breath holds. It’s Yoongi’s chicken scratch writing.   To my beloved wife,   It’s me. Your lovely, amazing, best husband, Min Yoongi.   This is really embarrassing and I don’t know what to write either. But I was just thinking about how difficult it is for us to meet and be together. If you think about it, there’s almost eight billion people in the world but we still met each other. I don’t know if it was luck but I’m relieved to have met you. I also can’t believe we’ve been married for seven years now.   Thank you for making so many memories with me.   Love you, Yoongi.   P.S. please stop digging your ice cold feet into my feet at night. go to the doctor it’s not natural.   You choke on your own saliva, tears flooding your vision as your overwhelming emotions swell into a lump in your throat. It’s Yoongi’s love letter. Everything that’s so unabashedly him encapsulated in a few sentences — not cringey, a bit distant, but tender all at the same time.   You don’t know why he’s written this so out of the blue or how he knew you wanted this so badly, but you don’t care enough to question it. You hold the letter to your chest, head falling as your tears rise to squeeze out of you — but before you can melt on the carpet, you’re startled by a giant rock slamming against the window.   You jump, screaming, and your face drains of colour.   What’s left on the glass window is a jagged line split in different directions and you rush over in shock, opening up the latch to figure out who the perpetrator is.   What you find is your dumb-ass husband standing below your window. “What the hell are you doing?! You cracked the window, you idiot! We’re going to have to get it fixed,” you hiss into the dead of the night.   “Shut up, will you?” he sharply whispers back and your eyes adjust to the darkness.   From the glow of the street lights and the lamp on your table, you’re finally able to discern the acoustic guitar slung over his body.    Oh my god.   Before you can even burst out laughing and tell him to get inside, much to your mortification, Yoongi begins to sing in spite of his tone-deafness. “If I should stay, I would only be in your way….”   He strums one chord, the wrong chord, and it jumbles with the false notes streaming from his vocal cords. Yoongi stares down at his fingers, stretching them across the guitar neck and he strums every other sentence. His singing is awful and it’s noisy, especially when you begin to laugh.   You’re tempted to grab your phone and record him, but decide to savour the moment first-hand.   Your husband struggles and at some points, the pitch goes too high and his voice cracks so horrifically that he stops singing altogether.   Yoongi’s only put out of his misery when across the street the lights inside the house turn on and there’s a grumpy voice shouting— “Shut up! Some people are trying to sleep!”   You end up running downstairs at the same time he’s finally coming inside and you’re still giggling as he sets his guitar down, leaning it against the wall. “Where did you even get that?”   “I borrowed it from Hoseok,” Yoongi sighs. “He kept on asking so many questions. I had to tell him that I was bored at home and wanted to give it a try.”   You close the distance and encircle your arms around his neck. Yoongi’s hands immediately find purchase on your waist and you plant a fat kiss on his mouth before leaning away, confused curiosity not allowing you to prolong the affection.   “Why’d you write me the letter and why….this?”   Yoongi answers you by moving away to the entryway table past the foyer that’s there more for decoration than usage. He goes for the second shelf and holds up your worn diary.   That’s when you realize you’ve been caught and Yoongi’s brows lift with a tiny smile.   “I hope I got to fulfill the rest of your wishes, even if they were back to back.”   The pair of you gather together in your cozy bedroom, guitar tucked safely away and the letter still displayed on your vanity where you’ll be able to see it for the rest of your days. But those silly antics are far from being over and you know it with the way Yoongi’s been looking at you.   “You should’ve just told me if you wanted to do those things,” he says as he rips off his socks and changes into comfortable pajamas.   “Yeah, but you would’ve refused…” You twiddle with the hem of the duvet and Yoongi hums after a moment, crawling into bed with you. He realizes that you’re right. He probably would’ve scoffed at the idea of writing you a love letter or serenading you if you asked up front.   “I thought there was something wrong. You got me worried for a few days.”   “I’m sorry. I just…..I know I’ve been a bit off.” You sigh, locking your gaze with your husband as you finally confide your concerns to him. “You know how our seven year anniversary is coming up, right?”   “Yeah. What about it?”   “I know this is going to sound really, really stupid and dumb, but I was kind of, a little bit, worried about the seven year itch.”   Yoongi’s brows furrow and he squints. “The what?”   “You know, the seven year curse thing.” When his expression remains blank, you exhale and explain, “it’s when marriages are known to go downhill and divorces happen because people get bored. My parents got divorced after seven years, remember? So did a bunch of our friends and I don’t know, the thought kind of freaked me out.”   Yoongi softens and the corner of his mouth quirks. His arm reaches over and around your shoulder, and he pulls you closer to him in a loose hug. “I don’t know about you, but I have no plans of divorcing you any time soon.”   You mold yourself against Yoongi’s embrace, allowing yourself to melt into his comfort. It was soothing to hear his deep timbre next to your ear, to let him reassure you in such a way.   In one instant, all your doubts seem to vanish.    “I’m not bored of you, Y/N.” Yoongi smirks and you lean your head on his shoulder. “I don’t think I’ll ever be.”   “Are you sure?”   “As sure as I was when we made our vows,” he consoles without even needing a second to think about it and pulls away with a tender, thoughtful smile. “Plus, we’ve survived this ‘seven year’ curse anyways.”   You frown. “What?”   “Didn’t we start dating ten years ago? Yeah. It’s our ten year anniversary of being together. So we technically passed it three years ago already.”   You’re puzzled — you’ve sure the seven year itch only applies to marriages, but in a way Yoongi was right. It’s not like you want to disagree with him anyways. But the pair of you have been together for considerably longer than seven years. Your relationship had begun much farther back.   You lean in, planting another kiss on Yoongi and it’s one he happily obliges to deepen.   It’s a familiar kiss, but not one you’re discontent with. It’s practiced, skilled and full of technique. Not hesitant, lackluster or sloppy like the first time. Yoongi kisses you the way he knows you like it. After so many years and spending so much time with one another, it’s been perfected after all.   He pulls apart and you snuggle in him with a giant smile, digging your cold feet into his warm ones much to his dismay. But this time, he doesn’t complain and molds himself against you.   Yoongi plants one more kiss on top of your head, feeling sleepy and too tired to even turn off the lamp on the bedside table. “Is there something special you want to do for this year’s anniversary? We still haven’t talked about it yet.”   “I don’t want to stay in,” you hum. “How about a road trip up to the hot springs? Kijung was talking about it and it sounded nice. We haven’t been up there in a while.”   “Okay.” Yoongi is happy to oblige. “Sounds like a plan.”   You and Yoongi met at eighteen. After four years of being friends, the both of you broke the barrier and started dating. It took only three years for him to put a ring on your finger and for you to share his last name. It’s been seven mundane but wonderful years since. And while it seems so long ago, you’re certain there will be many, many more years to come.