#enjoy this little slice of insanity

[separatist-apologist]

Still A Sunbeam

Summary: As a child, Elain Archeron is pushed into a pond by the heir to the Day Courts throne, Lucien Spell-Cleaver, and vows she'll never forgive him for it. But as an adult, Elain finds that if she wants out of an arranged marriage to a Spring Court prince, she will need Day Court's help. More is at stake than a decades-old rivalry, and when their home is threatened, Elain and Lucien will have to set aside old differences and work together

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Read on AO3

“Lucien,” Elain whispered, trying—and failing—to escape the hold he had on her body. “Lucien, we’re going to be late.”

Behind her, Lucien buried his face in her tangled hair, grunting a response that sounded suspiciously like “ten more minutes.”

He’d been saying that for a good hour now. They would be late, and she didn’t think the prince or his father would appreciate knowing Elain didn’t try harder to push him out of bed. And she wanted to, though in a much more real sense, Elain wanted to twist in Lucien’s arms and press her mouth to his.

And whatever happened after, well…

But they had actual responsibilities and when Elain truly thought about it, she knew she didn’t want to be just another conquest for Lucien. Someone he fooled around with when he was bored only to forget when there were more interesting people around. Elain liked him, which made laying beside him dangerous.

If he’d made a move, she would have given in and thoroughly embarrassed herself. For the rest of her life, Lucien would know how easy it was to get her beneath him and Elain didn’t think she could stand the humiliation. She was still committed to her first time meaning something—with someone who cared about her.

Even if it was never more than a time limited thing, even if they didn’t end up together for eternity which seemed a very likely possibility just given who Lucien was and what she’d seen since she’d joined his court. Elain wanted to look back on that first time and know he’d cared about her—loved her, even if it wasn’t forever.

She didn’t think Lucien did, though she did think he could. With enough time, perhaps. Lucien slung a heavy, muscular thigh over her hip, dragging her closer.

“You smell good,” he whispered, his voice thick with sleep. “When did you crawl into my bed?”

“You don’t remember?” Elain replied, waiting for him to wake. “The things you did to me last night, I…Lucien, when you asked me to marry you I thought you were crazy but then—”

“What?” he asked, raising his head just enough to blink down at her. The long, thick strands of his auburn hair tickled his cheek though it was the panicked look on his handsome face that made Elain smile. “What did we do?”

“Of course you’d ask that,” she replied with an eye roll, shoving herself out of his grasp. “You violated the pillow barrier we made.”

Lucien shrugged his broad, naked shoulders, flopping back to the mattress while Elain shimmied out of bed. The pillows they’d laid between them the night before were shoved to the very edge of the bed along with the bunched sheet clinging to the bed for dear life. It was too hot to be under so many blankets.

Hotter, still, to be trapped beneath Lucien’s heavy body. Sliding a hand behind his head, Lucien tracked her every movement with a lazy smile. “Did you sleep well?”

“You’re so smug for a man who got nothing but my hair in his mouth,” Elain snapped, irritated with him. “And you need to get dressed.”

“Ladies first,” was his infuriating reply. Elain gathered up her clothes—a gown of turquoise blue that might have been the most scandalous things she’d ever draped over her body. A tight bodice with pearl straps for sleeves cut so low and pressed so tightly that her breasts all but heaved toward the heavens. The back dipped toward her hips, leaving her spine utterly exposed. The material itself sparkled in the sun, glittering like little diamonds and was thin enough that a light breeze would send the fabric flying toward her knees. 

Elain placed little pearls in her ears to match the straps, and twisted half her hair off her face with matching silver and pearl combs shaped like seashells. Arina had shown Elain how to do her make up in a way that was subtle, while enhancing all her best features which sucked up a good deal of her time.

Elain emerged to find Lucien standing in front of a mirror, frowning while staring down at the rather plain white, sleeveless shirt he’d pulled over his body. In his hands he held two vests—one gold, one the same shade of turquoise she wore. It was selfish, but Elain went to him and said, “Definitely the blue.”

Lucien looked first in the mirror before blinking rapidly. He twisted as though he needed to look at her in person. Elain swallowed, hands clammy at her sides. Do you like it? Is it too much? 

For a moment, he said nothing at all. Finally, Lucien cleared his throat, blinked one final time, and said, “Yeah. Blue would be good.”

He shrugged it only, quickly slipping the buttons through their respective holes, and then turned again. He still wore his gold rings, still had the little accented metal pieces in the braids that curved along his head over his ear. The rest of his hair fell down his back in glossy, auburn waves she wanted to touch. 

Of course she didn’t. Even when Lucien offered her his arm Elain merely kept her hands at her side. She was afraid if she touched him, she might not stop. It was easier to admire him from a distance—to drink in that coiled gold armband around his strong, muscled bicep and the sandals peeking from his flowing pants. 

Elain could hear his heartbeat thudding in her ears while they walked. Could he hear hers? Surely he must have given how erratic it was banging against her ribcage. Lucien gave no indication of it, leading her through the sunny halls toward the entrance.

“Where is this meeting being held?” Elain asked when Lucien reached unbidden for her hand.

His grin didn’t meet his eyes. In fact, he looked almost pained as he stared out not toward the city sprawled at the bottom of the hill, but the water they’d been swimming in the day before. 

“I told you. We’re going to the—to the barge.”

The pleasure barge.

“For a meeting?” she gaped. She knew they were supposed to go after and was prepared for an hour or two of mingling politely before making her excuses. But the whole day? Lucien chuckled.

“Yes, Elain. Business and pleasure intertwined. I’m going to winnow us now—do not hit me.”

“No promises,” she grumbled, though she squeezed his hand in return before they vanished into nothing. Lucien deposited her on the deck of a rather larger barge overlooking the city they’d just left. The palace glittered like a jewel in the early morning sun, casting a rainbow of light over the surrounding water and the city of Adriata. 

“Lucien Spell-Cleaver,” Tarquin, Prince of Adriata and the strongest contender for the throne, strode toward them with an easy, handsome grin. He wore a similar white and turquoise vest to Lucien, though he’d skipped the shirt, leaving his toned chest gleaming beneath the hot sun. Elain tried—and failed—not to admire him, but Tarquin was handsome. Much like Lucien, he exuded power in his powerful frame and judging from the gazes more than a few females and males shot him as he came toward them, they agreed.

Tarquin brushed a loc of white hair from his shoulder. Blue eyes crinkled at the edges as he clapped Lucien on the shoulder, speaking like old friends. Elain supposed they were old friends. Tarquin wasn’t much older than Lucien, and a prince, too. Why shouldn’t they be friends?

She wasn’t listening to them speak, too caught up in the silver earring throwing iridescent light over the wood deck.

Lucien elbowed her in the ribs, drawing her back to the present. Tarquin’s straight, gleaming smile caught her off guard. “See something you like, Elain Archeron?” 

Beside her, Lucien had become very still. This was a test and she knew it. Could she do this job, or was she just play-acting under Lucien’s careful supervision.

“I suppose you’ll find out, won’t you?” she replied coyly. ��We’ll see how these talks go.”

“I can’t decide if you’re trying to bribe me or not,” Tarquin said with a delighted laugh. Beside her, Lucien may as well have been made of stone. 

“Find out,” she offered smoothly. It was all in good fun. Elain knew very well from Feyre’s stories that Tarquin wasn’t interested in any one person and had declared so publicly. A night might be fun if she had that experience and was the sort that could indulge so casually. But Elain was beginning to think she was not the sort, and that she needed all her encounters to mean something, even if they didn’t last forever.

And privately, some part of her was hoping it would be Lucien. That was foolish and she knew it, and yet sometimes Elain thought he didn’t hate her at all. That he returned her feelings, whatever they were, and might even agree to something. She couldn’t stop thinking about his admission that he was thinking about her, couldn’t stop thinking about they’d come back up from the beach, sunburned and laughing and casually touching.

The problem was Elain didn’t know how to bridge the gap. How did she ask him for what she wanted in a way that didn’t make her sound unreasonable? Because she knew she couldn’t share him, that it would break her into a thousand pieces to know he moved through his usual females at court and she was merely one of many. 

And she knew beyond just having him, that Killian was still waiting for the year to end. Lucien very likely didn’t want to entangle himself in her messy life. Not when a fight could destroy careful inter-court politics for decades. So Elain smiled at Tarquin like she might be interested, knowing full well the male before her likely smiled at her the exact same way, and returned to not paying attention to Lucien and Tarquin’s easy banter. 

There were, as Elain learned, rooms on the barge. Bedrooms, if Tarquin’s laughter was to be believed, but also large meeting rooms beneath the waves, cooled with some magic Elain was grateful for. Ronan, from the night before, was there, along with Dominic who was the person they were charged with swaying. Elain knew he wasn’t directly related to the royal family like Tarquin was, but merely a trusted advisor to the family. Tarquin would oversee Adriata entirely when he turned a century old. Until then, Dominic oversaw his instruction.

“So,” Dominic said, looking at the pair of them through rich, brown eyes. His hair was at least as long as Tarquins and braided in long rows off his face. He might have been as old as her father—maybe older, even, from the soft gray peppering his temples. Still handsome, she thought. “Saffron.”

“Saffron,” Lucien agreed, reclining back in his chair. “Wholesale, without markup.”

“Awfully generous,” Rowan agreed, leaning forward on his elbows. It was a strange push-pull. Summer seemed eager while Lucien seemed nonchalant. 

“I wouldn’t say that,” Elain began smoothly. She didn’t dare look at Lucien, though she swore she felt his approval humming in her chest. All three Summer court males sharpened while Lucien only seemed looser. Relaxed. “Your import taxes are high.”

“Day can go around,” Dominic said with a flick of his fingers. “Just like Night does.”

Lucien smiled, glancing at Elain. He was going to let her keep going if she wanted–he wanted her to. Elain didn’t kno what to do with his confidence, but she did know she wanted to kiss him for it. 

“And I suppose Summer can find some other spice they like half as well,” Elain replied with a shrug. “It’s costly to harvest, especially in a drought.”

And just like that, things shifted. Lucien didn’t smile any more than he already was, but his gaze sharpened. Elain enjoyed being more than just a spectator. Just as Lucien promised, they inked that deal before the evening truly begun, wasting large quantities of time quibbling over the exact rates, down to the literal dime. Lucien was far better at smoothly lowering things in small percents, until he eventually got what he wanted.

She understood why Helion had sent him and why Lucien was his emissary. In the end, Lucien got everything he wanted while making it seem as if the opposite were true. Though, Elain thought the deal was more than fair.

“A drink?” Dominic asked them both, eyes on the ceiling above them. “Just be careful—someone probably spiked at least half the cups.”

“If you see anything that looks too purple,” Ronan added with a laugh while Tarquin murmured a I know what I’ll be drinking. Elain didn’t get a chance to ask what had been slipped in the cups. Lucien slung a heavy arm over her shoulder and led her out, smiling like he’d just won something.

“You were…you were perfect back there.”

His praise warmed her. “You think so?”

“Yes,” he agreed, brushing strands of hair from his hand. They curled around his lazy fingers before he dropped them, his eyes burning with some strange emotion she didn’t recognize.

“Incredible, even. Now you can’t leave when your year is up. I refuse to hand you over to you on my enemies.”

“No one is your enemy, Lucien,” she retorted.

“You’d be surprised,” he replied, pulling away as Tarquin demanded his attention. It left Elain to walk the length of the barge, lost to the dusky sky and the rapidly cooling air. Everything felt good to her now knowing Lucien thought she was capable. That he wanted to keep her.

She swiped a cup from a nearby table, bringing the fruity wine to her lips. Elain made her way to the railing, draining her cup quickly as she stared out at the sunset. Maybe this was the right time to just tell him her feelings had shifted. Drumming her fingers against the polished surface, Elain felt bolstered.

Nothing could go wrong. She should tell him. She should march right up to him and just…just kiss him. Desire slid through her, filling her with warmth. Yes, she decided as she turned. She could see him walking back the way they’d come, heading toward that meeting room. She’d kiss him, and he’d kiss her back, and confess his feelings, and— “Lucien!” He didn’t hear her over the music. Gathering her skirts in her hands, Elain could think of nothing but his hands against her skin, of his mouth against her own. Of Lucien doing everything Killian had done, but better—but more. 

She caught him just at the bottom of the stairs. “Lucien,” she said again, marveling that she didn’t feel fear at all.

Only desire. 

He raised his brows. “I’ll be right back,” he said, but Elain didn’t care. They were alone. She surged upwards.

And without another thought, kissed him firmly on the mouth. 

Lucien:

For one moment, Elain’s mouth against his own was pure, undiluted bliss. Lucien pressed her against the wall, tangling his fingers in her hair so he could deepen the kiss. Her mouth was sweet, her tongue sweeping against his own. Elain ground herself against him, the scent of her arousal lodging itself inside his nose.

“Elain—” She didn’t let him speak, which was just as well given Lucien didn’t know what he’d been about to say. With one arm braced against the wall of the barge, Lucien reached for her face.

And Elain reached for his pants. The sickly sweetness of her mouth was familiar, but it was her frantic fingers that caused Lucien to pull back so he could look at her. This wasn’t like her—he knew she was unpracticed and inexperienced. Was she really going to let him take her on a pleasure barge off the coast of Summer Court, in a hall anyone could walk down? She didn’t want it to mean anything? 

And her mouth…lips stained a deep aubergine made Lucien’s stomach flip. “Elain,” he said when she reached for him again. Her pupils were blown out, eyes big and wide, cheeks flushed…

“Elain, what did you drink?”

But he knew. “Wine,” she said breathlessly. Lucien had to look up at the ceiling to keep himself from falling apart. This was wrong. Her drink had been laced with an aphrodisiac and she likely had no idea. For one miserable second, Lucien mourned the loss of what was happening—this was exactly what he’d wanted. Elain, warm and pliant and willing, trying to take his pants off because she needed him so badly.

“Not like this,” he whispered, well aware she wouldn’t understand in the moment. When had he become the good guy?

Somewhere else?” she asked him, pressing her chest against his own.

“Yes,” he lied, knowing it was the only way to get her out of here. If anyone else found her, she was likely to throw herself at them, too, and who knew if they’d uphold her same honor. Lucien needed to lock her up somewhere and track down Tarquin to see if there was an antidote or, if not, a sedative he could give her so she could sleep this off without embarrassing herself any further.

She was going to be furious with him in the morning. Lucien would have to plead for her forgiveness over that kiss. He hadn’t known, would never have reciprocated if he’d thought she was under the influence. He’d been so fucking excited but of course…of course this was the only reason she wanted him.

She’d have kissed anyone like she’d kissed him if they’d been standing in front of her when the effects washed over her. A small sip was enough to turn a male into a creature of base instinct and little more. How much had she drunk? 

“Here,” he said, pulling open a door far below deck. Inside was a bed that smelled over other males—Lucien couldn’t stop the snarl that erupted from him, though he leashed his temper enough to lead her inside.

Elain reached for the strap of her dress and Lucien turned, slamming the door roughly before he could watch her undress. 

“Lucien?” she called. He turned the lock loud enough she heard, forehead pressed to the wood. Lucien! Open the door! Lucien, open the door right now or I’ll—!”

“You’ll thank me for this in the morning,” he replied, curling his hands into fists. Lucien’s whole body was hard, unaware he couldn’t just go in there and take her like instinct was driving him to. He felt insane, pulled toward her even as he walked away. The urge to guard her like a snapping animal nearly overwhelmed him, and by the time Lucien was back on deck, surrounded by Summer courtiers drinking and laughing and dancing, Lucien was ready to start a fight.

He found Tarquin leaned up against the rail, looking out at the water while several nearby females giggled loudly for the prince's attention.

“I need you,” Lucien hissed under his breath. He didn’t want anyone else to know what was going on with Elain downstairs. Tarquin glanced over.

“I’m flattered,” he began, earning an eye roll from Lucien.

“That fucking wine,” Lucien interrupted before Tarquin could decline his advances—of which there were none. “How do you mitigate the effects?”

“By fucking,” Tarquin said frankly.

Lucien snarled loud enough Tarquin took a step away from him, palms raised in defense. What the fuck was wrong with him? Tarquin seemed to be asking himself the same question.

“A sedative, then,” Lucien demanded, chest rising and falling rapidly. Tarquin wasn’t a threat no matter how Elain had smiled. Tarquin was his friend—he’d help. Lucien was merely over-tired, that’s all. Too tired, too stressed to make a rational decision, combined with the scent of Elain’s need still lingering in his nose.

A primal part of him demanded he go do something about it. 

“What happened?”

“Elain,” he said, hating how desperation colored his tone. “It’s Elain.”

And there was nothing else he needed to say to Tarquin to make the prince understand. Blue eyes swam with sympathy.

“Where is she?” 

“Downstairs. I’ve locked her in, but…” But someone was going to wander down eventually. Someone would hear her asking to be let out, would be her savior if they did. 

“Go,” Tarquin said, filling Lucien with relief. “I’ll meet you there. I need to go ashore.”

“Quickly,” Lucien urged, turning his back even as he said it. He was back outside her door—now silent—before he’d taken all of five breaths. Pressing his back to the wood, Lucien closed his eyes and sank to the cool, swaying floor. 

“Lucien?” 

“I’m here,” he said, listening to the frantic pound of her heart.

“What’s happening to me?” she asked, words laced with fear. “I can’t…I…” She sounded like she wanted to cry. Lucien did, too, if only because her fear had mingled with her arousal. He couldn’t control his own body, reacting as though there was danger lurking that he needed to protect her from.

Unaware the only danger was him—that his resolve would break, that he’d open that door and take her when he knew he shouldn’t. 

“I’m getting a sedative,” he told her, twisting so his cheek was pressed to the door. “You’ll drink it and fall asleep, and when you wake up we’ll both pretend this never happened.”

There was a pause, and then, “You don’t want me?”

The wine, that’s just the wine talking, she doesn’t want you, she’ll hate you—

“If you wake up in the morning and you still…” Lucien gritted his teeth. “Yes, Elain. I want you so bad I can’t think straight. But not like this. Not when you don’t–”

“I want you,” she insisted, unaware it was the wine that made her want him. 

“Tell me that in the morning,” was all he could say. He’d take her back to the Sun Palace and spend the rest of the week making slow, passionate love to her. 

The effort it took to ignore her soft pleading and just wait took a toll on Lucien. By the time Tarquin arrived, holding a golden goblet in his hand, Lucien was wrung out and exhausted. His body ached from the hard floor beneath him and how much he wanted to just give in.

“Good luck,” Tarquin offered, not daring to come too close. That was smart—the hackles on Lucien’s neck raised at the mere sight of him. Waiting until the prince vanished settled him, though he dreaded unlocking that door. Was it better to surprise her or to warn her? Lucien settled on surprise, thinking she might try and tempt him into bed and he was hanging by a fraying thread already.

Mercifully, Elain was still dressed, pacing back and forth like a wild animal. Narrowed, angry eyes greeted him when he slipped inside, closing the door behind him. Lucien was too paranoid that another male was going to try and get in, that he’d have to fight to the death to keep her safe. To keep her his. 

“Lucien—”

“Drink this,” he said, thrusting the cup between them. “Drink it, and I’m yours.”

“Swear,” she whispered, as if Lucien hadn’t been hers from the moment he’d first seen her. Even if he’d been too young, too stupid to know, he knew it now. Whatever was happening, whatever magic had wound its way between them made it impossible for him to think otherwise. There was no going back, no giving her up. 

“I swear,” he whispered, daring the smallest step toward her. “I’ve always been only yours.”

She held his gaze, fingers cupping his own as though to gauge the truth in his statement. 

“Drink it,” he urged. He was going to snap if he had to spend another minute in the too small room, suffocating in the scent of her needy, unmet arousal. “Princess, please.”

She brought the cup to her lips, a question in those fawn brown eyes. “Princess?”

“Yes,” he agreed, wondering what his parents would say when he told them. “Of my home, my court—my princess, Elain. Drink.”

And she did, pacified at last, having wrung the truth from his hateful lips. She’d remember all this, and perhaps would feel more charitably toward him knowing how utterly ruined he was. How he wanted to get on his knees and prostrate himself before her.

Elain drank all of the clear liquid, eyes hooded with each new gulp. The cup tumbled from her hands as she slumped forward, caught in Lucien’s waiting arms.

“Good girl,” he whispered into her hair. “You’re going to sleep and when you wake up, there will be nothing to apologize for.”

“Why…?” she slurred out a question he couldn’t answer, not when the lids of her eyes fluttered shut, taking the scent of her arousal with it. 

Thank the fucking cauldron for that, he thought with relief. No one stopped the pair of them when Lucien brought her above deck, skin warmed by the fading sunlight on the horizon. It would be a night of partying—one he still needed to be part of, if only as a show of good faith. Lucien made Elain’s apologies as people saw her curled up in his arms. Too much to drink, he said with an easy smile. That wasn’t wholly untrue, and from the amused smile on Tarquin’s face, he knew the prince of Adriata wouldn’t tell. 

He winnowed back to shore, his sense returning with every easy step. Back to the room they shared, and the bed he’d woken in just that morning. Lucien left her beneath the sheets, her hair obscuring her face, and locked the door from the outside once again. She could get out if she wanted, though he doubted she would wake before he returned. More importantly, his own scent coated the sheets, the air, her skin—any male who came in would be warned away by Lucien’s invisible presence. That soothed him. 

He was back on the barge, swaggering about like both his heart and his mind were in that bed with Elain. 

“Dominic will be wanting to talk to you,” Tarquin’s voice cut through Lucien’s longing. “Congratulate you, since Elain is gone.”

“Was he hoping to congratulate her?” Lucien demanded, his words more ferocious than he’d meant. Tarquin only smiled, leaning against the rail shoulder to shoulder with Lucien.

“I think a lot of males were. They won’t be anymore—not with you snapping your teeth every time they look her way.”

“Good.” Though, that did little to ease the knot in Lucien’s chest. Tarquin glanced sidelong at Lucien, suppressing a smile.

“How long?”

“Excuse me?” Lucien asked, twisting to face the prince. “How long what?”

“How long ago did the bond snap for you? It seems new. And…” he bit the inside of his cheek, unaware of how Lucien had begun to spiral. “I assume she doesn’t know?”

“Bond?”

Tarquin’s nose flared. “Is it recent?”

Mating bond. Tarquin was asking Lucien when his mating bond had snapped. With Elain—a mating bond, a—- “I don’t think…there’s no bond, I—”

Tarquin threw his head back and laughed. “No, of course not. This is just perfectly rational behavior for you, then? Do you so jealously guard all the females at court?”

No. Never. Never. 

“It hasn’t…there was no snap—”

“Maybe I’m wrong, then,” Tarquin said, pushing off the rail. But the unspoken words just beneath ran a river through Lucien. Probably not, though. 

Heart thudding, Lucien’s eyes drifted toward the shore and the towering castle looming in the distance.

Mate.

Was Elain Archeron truly his mate?

[canadiancryptid]

Something broke on my phone and now I get a notification that the same person followed me every time someone likes my last Deltarune post. It hasn't sent a single notification that someone liked the post, just the same new follower one. As far as glitches on tumblr go, this one is realitivly minor, but still not quite sure what went wrong there.

[junityy]

🕸 — stay.

pairing. spider-man!jake x fem!reader genre. fluff, slight angst, slightly suggestive?? wc. 2k warnings. for context, this is the #infamous scene in the amazing spiderman 1 when peter shows up hurt at gwens window!! and yes im including the lizard LMAO and jake is kinda down Bad note. THIS TURNED OUT SO LONG.... and also NOT how i wanted but erm well.. spiderman jake is truly all i can think about so i hope you enjoy!!!

You were just finishing up your chemistry homework when Jake leaned against your window frame outside, and lightly knocked against your window. By now, this had become a routine-like thing, so you didn't even flinch.

The first time he did that, though, you felt slightly creeped out before letting him in regardless - because, after all, you do live on the 21st floor. The second time he did that, you started getting used to it. After all, your boyfriend just so turned out to be Spider-man. It was just something you'd get used to sooner rather than later.

Turning around and telling him, “Come in.”, you could already feel your lips form into a smile like that of a little kid's. Jake does as you said and opens the window, slowly climbing inside while you quickly save your homework document in the meantime.

“So, big guy, what was saving New York like today?” you joke before turning around to look at him. Though, once you see Jake holding onto your armchair for stability, your smile fades as quickly as it appeared and you get up when your eyes scan his body - three major scratches across his chest, along with other small wounds across his face (though these are a given by now). But also- scratches? No, it looks more like someone tried to slice him up with.. you don't even know what. Knives? This big? You can only imagine how he got these.

“Different, for sure.” he replies in a joking manner (even though there is no smile), and you can hear just a tiny bit of the pain he must be in in his voice.

“Jake?” you end up whispering as you walk towards him, and he simply lets himself fall onto your armchair before you sit down beside him.

“Seems that reptiles aren't my biggest fans.” he jokes; now smiling as he lets his head fall back while trying to catch his breath. In the meantime, you can't help but scan his wounds up close and - it's safe to say, someone (or something) possibly did try to slice him up from the looks of it.

“Reptiles?” you repeat, the confusion in your voice being very easy to identify; something Jake had already seen coming though, so that is far from surprising.

Before speaking up to elaborate further, he lifts his head again to look at you up close, then explains; “Remember that thing on the bridge yesterday? The thing that was ‘bigger’ than a human.. Well, turns out it's actually some kind of giant, mutant lizard. And it's living in the sewers, apparently.”

“A what?” raising your eyebrows in shock immediately, you can't help but blink in utter confusion a few times - at least before your eyes find their way back to his chest, and some dots start to connect by themselves. Well, his wounds make a little sense now at least. Still, neither of you could deny that ‘giant mutant lizard’ doesn't sound absolutely insane - so naturally, it takes you a second to process and.. imagine what that fight must've looked like just now.

“You're..” you frown; making eye contact with your boyfriend again after breaking it shortly. Jake on the other hand can't seem to even think about taking his eyes off of you. As per usual. “You're telling me you're fighting.. giant lizards?” you simply add. You're also certain that no matter how you would've worded this, it would sound equally just as crazy.

But, well.. your boyfriend IS Spider-man after all. So really, nothing should probably surprise you anymore. If you had to guess, things would, most likely, only get crazier from here on.

“Yeah. Well, they suck.” Jake scoffs, followed by another smile on his face, but he quickly groans in pain right after; your eyes still fixated on his wounds. It’s not like he'll die of them, so you try telling yourself to stop being so dramatic, but still.. it's a sight you'd rather not get too used to.

You hate seeing him like this. Usually, you're pretty used to seeing him with small or at least smaller wounds by now, but this? This is.. low-key crazy. You keep telling yourself that he is literally Spider-man, and that there's.. kinda no way to avoid getting hurt, yet all you hope for is to see him in one piece every single time. And it seems that the longer he keeps doing what he's doing, the chances of seeing him at all keep getting slimmer. Which is something that truly keeps you up at night, easily causing goosebumps all over your body.

“Hey.” Jake quietly says, simply to bring you back to reality once he notices you're lost in thoughts, and the next thing you feel is his hand on your cheek, softly cupping it.

Once you're actually back, you properly reconnect the eye contact you so love with him again. “What is it?” he questions not too long after, barely whispering while trying to read your expression. You, on the other hand, just remain silent; swallowing, before taking a sharp breath.

“Take this off, I'll take care of it.” pretty much avoiding the question, you point to his suit instead (or at least the upper part of it) - since, every time Jake has come here, you took care of him and his injuries. And today was gonna be no different.

While he makes sure the city is okay, you need to make sure he's okay. And vice versa, Jake has to make sure you're okay, by coming back to you every time like promised. New York could be safe for all he wants - only seeing your face every time makes him feel truly safe and sound.

And so again, he does as you say; moving to sit on the floor while leaning against your bed, he watches you do your little magic in silence. Silence, awe, admiration - it's all the same when it comes to you, really. He doesn't even deserve you, Jake thinks to himself. Like he does everyday.

Your ‘little magic’ though, simply includes disinfecting his wounds first; a process the both of you have gotten used to by now.

Once he's rolled down his suit a little, you begin to carefully pat his chest with the tissue again and again, so careful as if he'd break if you made one wrong move. Which.. seems sort of funny. You're patching up the Spider-man after all.

Jake, in the meantime, can't seem to take his eyes off of you again, so he simply doesn't. Instead, he watches your every move like his life depends on it. The look in your eyes has changed. You've gone quiet. Like, awfully quiet.

“Y/N.” he tries again after just a moment - after you clearly avoided his question the first time. When you look up just the tiniest bit, you're immediately met with his eyes on you already in no time. Oh. His eyes. “What is it?” he repeats, hoping to get you to talk this time.

Looking at him, it takes you a few moments to even form a somewhat coherent thought. Sometimes you wish you could just stop time and stay like this. With him, here. Forever.

Sure, being Spider-man's girlfriend had its perks - like Jake taking you with him to swing around New York together. Surely.. an original experience! But it also meant praying he'd come home to you every time there was trouble in the city.

“I'm just scared for you, is all.” you sigh quietly, tilting your head a tiny bit. For just a moment, silence enters, and it feels like you're falling in love with him all over again. You're just glad he's here.

“You won't lose me.” Jake assures you in the softest tone possible and immediately brings his hand back to your cheek, only to bring your face closer to his. Close enough to place a kiss on your lips, a reassuring one. A kiss that, as you both know, says something words wish they could truly encapsulate. Breaking the kiss for a short, simple “I promise.”, he immediately reconnects your lips again like he'd suffocate if he didn't.

What starts as a lovely, reassuring kiss, quickly seems to turn into something much more intimate when you feel Jake rest his other hand on your waist only to pull you as close as possible; to feel your body right against his.

Spider-man might have impressive healing abilities that are above those of the average person, but Jake felt as if having you near him was already enough healing.

“I love you.” he breathes into the kiss, and quickly tries to catch his breath when you do the same for a second. Your faces still dangerously close, all you seem to be able to get out is a “I love you too.” that sounds very out of breath, like you were the one fighting a giant mutant lizard just before.

Bringing your hand up to rest on the side of his neck, Jake can't help but sigh when he backs off a tiny bit, only so he can get a good look at you. God, you're beautiful he thinks to himself. Basically looking at you the same way he did when he first told you he loved you, he automatically moves the few strands of hair out of your face; tucking them behind your ear, while his eyes simply shine with admiration. But mostly love.

“I just love you, Y/N.” your boyfriend repeats while shaking his head slightly, and sounding completely hopeless as if he just accepted that he is, indeed, hopelessly in love with you. Though, that was more or less the case anyway.. it still is, actually. Watching his eyes go back and forth between your eyes and lips, Jake speaks up again in a low voice, “You won't lose me.”. However this time, it's a promise rather than a reassurance.

Your eyes lighting up with pure love at his words and the look in his eyes, you can't seem to hide the way your lips are forming into another tiny smile - so you decide to just let them speak by placing them on his once again.

It's like your lips were perfectly made for each other, especially when Jake tilts his head a tiny bit more to deepen the kiss - his hand still on your neck, and if it were to go after him, he'd never remove it again. It's like you were perfectly made for each other.

“Jake.” you mumble into the kiss, yet keep it going because his lips feel a little too good moving against yours. Although you don't wanna let go, you (sadly) do end up breaking the kiss - which causes Jake to immediately look at you as you're gathering your thoughts one by one.

“I need to ask you a favour. It'll sound really selfish, though.” you begin quietly, only to receive a promising nod from his side, waiting for you to continue curiously while his eyes go back and forth between your eyes and lips again. Swallowing, you carefully ask, “You know I love that you're Spider-man, but can you just be Jake for tonight and stay?” Yeah, you were right about it sounding kinda selfish. Jesus.

But, like, it's true, and you couldn't really figure out a better way to word it. I mean, obviously you love that he's Spider-man - literally who wouldn't? But it's true that you love Jake Sim more. Even if just a tiny bit, which is why you want, - or need, actually - him with you tonight. Just Jake. Just the two of you.

“It doesn't sound selfish.” is the first thing he says in response, slightly shaking his head for further assurance. You're not only glad about it, but you feel your heartbeat increase rapidly when you see yet another smile form on his face, which (thank god), he doesn't even try to hide as it's getting too big. “Actually,” he lightly scoffs, biting on his lip as you watch him do so (it drives you nuts every time).

“I was hoping you'd say that, princess.” is the last thing he says before pulling you in for a kiss much, much more intimate than the ones before.

taglist @tyunni @geombyu @jaeyunverse @yjwfav @sieuneo @beombisou @neos127

[borathae]

Moodbooster

"Your boyfriend always manages to lift your mood, even on your period."

Pairing: Yoongi x f.Reader

Genre: slice of Life!AU, established relationship!AU, Fluff

Warnings: OC is on her period rip to her ✊🏻😔, she has cramps but yoongi boongie is there to rescue her, he is the bestest and sweetest and cutest boyfie ever <3

Wordcount: 806

a/n: a drabble by me that is actual drabble length? 😱 yeah i can't believe it either lmaoo. also, i'm still on my period and i miss yoongi so that's why this was born. enjoy besties, i miss him so much 🖤

Yoongi knows that you aren’t feeling well today. He has a sense for it. When you are having a bad day, Yoongi gets a heavy lump in his stomach. Not because of fear that you would snap at him, but because he can sense your unease. And when he senses it, he has to do everything in his power to at least lessen it a little bit. 

You are locked up in one of the windowless sitting rooms because the summer sun can’t enter and therefore heat up the room. 

Yoongi knocks, listening for your very grumbly “come in” before entering. 

You are on the sofa in nothing but shorts, not bothering to cover your naked chest when he enters.

“Are you that hot?” he asks, brushing his eyes over your chest briefly.

You nod your head and groan. 

“I hate having my period in summer. It feels like actual torture.” 

“I hear you, princess”, Yoongi says, hurrying to you to sit next to you. 

“I already feel like I’m boiling on normal period days, but summer period days feel like literal hell. If I could peel off my skin to cool off, I would.” 

“This sucks a lot, my love.”

“Yeah and I sweat like a waterfall. I don’t know if my soaked pants are sweat or my pad leaking. Do you even know how nasty I smell?” 

“No, you don’t. You smell good.”

“Thanks but also urgh. I have a cramp to make it even worse. And I want to eat six tons of sugar, I’m going insane.”

Yoongi hums in acknowledgement and lifts his hand to hover it over your stomach.

“Can I?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Yoongi places his hand down as flat as possible, giving your cramping stomach warmth this way. He rubs the smallest circles, applying the perfect amount of pressure. 

“Wow, so warm”, you sigh happily, shivering from the touch.

“Does this help?”

“Yes, so much”, you gush, sounding a lot happier than before. You even speak in a softer voice. 

“Then I’ll do that for a while.”

“Yes, thankies. Wow Boongie, you have the perfect hands. They’re like warm water bottles but better.”

He smiles at you. He doesn’t mind when you complain and therefore use a harsher voice, but he has to admit that he prefers your happy voice. You get a sort of soft-spokeness about it and only really use it when he pampers you just right. It makes Yoongi feel really soft and cozy as well because the atmosphere, you and he create in these moments, is always very calming. Maybe that is why he loves pampering you so much. Or maybe he loves it because he loves to see you happy. 

You huff out air.

“Sorry for ranting.”

“Don’t apologise, princess. That’s what I’m here for. That and tummy rubs”, he says, giving your stomach a little rub.

You giggle. Yoongi soaks up the sound until it is burned into his memories. 

“I love your tummy rubs so much”, you say and shift a little, “I think they’re working too well though. I literally just felt it come out of me.”

“Wonderful”, Yoongi says, pulling a face of comradery disgust.

“I think I need to go change.”

“Alright. Do you still have enough? I can pop down to the store if you need more.”

You stop in the doorway, “really?” 

“Of course, princess.”

“And you…could get snacks too?”

“Anything you need.” 

“Even everything sweet ever?”

“Of course.”

You lower your eyes shyly, “then maybe I need more. The strongest ones and the ones for sleep. The really thick ones.”

Yoongi gets up, closing the distance to you.

“Understood”, he pecks your cheek, rubbing your tummy one last time, “text me if you think of anything else.”

“I will. Thank you so much, Boongie.”

“Anytime, love.”

Yoongi manages to go as far as one step out of the room before you pull him back by his hand. He turns with a fond and curious look in his pretty eyes.

“Yes, princess?”

You lean in for a kiss to his lips, eliciting a purr from him. He smiles, rubbing your lower back.

“That was nice”, he whispers.

“It’s a kiss full of love.”

“Mhm.” He pecks you. “I love you too, my princess.”

You step back, “okay, you can leave now. Sorry for keeping you.”

“Don’t apologise. You can always keep me if that’s how you do it”, he flirts, giving you a playful little grin before he turns to really leave.  

And while Yoongi leaves to fulfill your wishes, you waddle to the toilet to change. Seriously, if you didn’t have such an amazing boyfriend by your side, this period would suck. With him, it only sucks when he isn’t here. Once he is back from the store, you will give him the biggest smooch ever.

[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | ch 10 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader, Yoongi x Hoseok

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: side character breakup, jungkook is still a little jealous lmao, alcohol, curses, they both are anxious to lose each other tbh, explicit content: hickey, breast play, oral sex (male receiving), jerking off, fingering, protected sex

☆word count: 10.1k

☆a/n: fun fact, this is the chapter that made me choose the title for this fic!! and this is also where the angst starts :') I hope you still enjoy reading <3 and thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing, you're the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Monday, March 25th 

You hate college. More specifically, you hate having to turn in multiple lab reports every week. There’s just something about building a lab report that irks you.

You don’t know how researchers do it. You think you’d go insane if you had to write report after report after report but…

You’re already going insane after all.

You sigh, rubbing a hand on your forehead as you look at the tables you’ve been trying to make for half an hour. Yoongi, sitting across from you, raises his head from his laptop, an eyebrow cocked. You offer him a tight-lipped smile, going back to your report as he doesn’t pry, focusing back on his own work.

As much as he spoke to you at the party last week, Yoongi has been a lot more silent today. You reckon you might know why - Hoseok said in the group chat that he’d come to study too, and he’s yet to show up. It’s evening now, and you have a feeling he’s just not going to come. 

You don’t know if you can entirely blame him - it’s Spring Break after all, and most people are trying to forget about college for the week. 

But you can’t, because you’ve got that lab report to work on and a final to study for.

You blink a few times, trying to bring your laptop back in focus, and then you go back to work. You spend another thirty minutes fixing the tables, not caring that the titles clearly could be better. Nabi said she’d go over everything you’ve done, and you know she’s much better with titles anyway.

You’re lucky she’s your lab partner. 

“Are you hungry?” Yoongi asks all of a sudden, and you startle, looking up at him.

Right in time, your stomach grumbles, and you let out a small laugh. “Yeah, a little.”

“Want to order burritos?” Yoongi suggests.

You nod enthusiastically, and he chuckles, picking up his phone. The smile that was on his lips dies almost immediately, and he deeply sighs. You furrow your brows questioningly, glancing outside of your study rooms.

Jungkook isn’t working today, yet you find yourself looking for him all the same. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask Yoongi, pushing Jungkook away from your thoughts.

Even though every thought of him makes you warm inside, giddy like a teenager with a crush.

“Hobi,” Yoongi simply replies.

You purse your lips, picking up your water bottle to take a long sip as you search for something to say. You settle on, “You guys talked after the party?”

Yoongi nods. “Yeah.” He pauses, sighing deeply again before handing you his phone. “Just choose which burrito you want.”

You grab his phone, quickly choosing what you want to eat as he remains silent, typing away on his laptop. You’re aware he’s avoiding the question, but you have a feeling he needs to talk. It’s in the way he worries at some dry skin on his bottom lip, an anxious tell you recognize all too well for having it too.

“How did the conversation go?” you ask as he finishes up the order, putting his phone back down on the table.

“It went okay,” he admits, yet he looks defeated. You understand why when he adds, “He told me he doesn’t want to be with me anymore.”

You widen your gaze. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Yoongi laughs bitterly, slightly shaking his head. “I feel blindsided. We were all happy before the party and now…” He shrugs vaguely, letting out a choked sound that almost passes as a chuckle. “It just came out of nowhere.”

“I’m really sorry…”

He shrugs again. “What can you do? I really just jumped in too fast without realizing that he was reluctant. I was stupid.”

“I don’t think you were stupid,” you say, trying to sound reassuring. “You’ve had feelings for him for a long time, and it felt like you were finally getting something in return. Anyone would have been blindsided.”

“I should have known when he insisted we take it slow and not share a room though,” Yoongi insists. “And though the sex was great there was a lot of stuff he was uncomfortable with. Not that I ever did anything without him wanting to do it but…” He wets his lips, glances your way before setting his gaze on his keyboard again. “I was his first guy.”

“Yeah, he told me,” you admit.

Pink dusts Yoongi’s cheeks, and you can tell he’s embarrassed by the turn of the conversation. So this time you don’t pry, letting him figure out what he wants to say next.

“I think he realized that he’s not into guys all that much,” Yoongi eventually says. “Like… he wanted to try it out and turns out it’s not as nice as he thought it’d be kinda thing, you know?”

You nod. “It sucks that it had to be with you though. You didn’t deserve that.”

Another shrug, like it’s all Yoongi knows to do right now. “Yeah, I guess.” He chuckles, a sad sound that makes you want to get up and hug him, though you know Yoongi’s not big on physical touch. “I don’t know if I should be mad or sad,” he admits a few seconds later.

“You’re allowed to be both.” He cocks an eyebrow as if not convinced. “I’m serious,” you insist. “You like him. Obviously, it’s going to hurt if he decides he doesn’t want to be with a guy. And obviously, you’re allowed to be mad too, because to you it can feel like he was leading you on.”

Yoongi meets your gaze. “Have you ever thought about becoming a therapist?”

His statement surprises you, and you laugh, scrunching up your nose. “No?”

“I think you’d be good,” Yoongi says. He sighs deeply again, picking up his phone. “Food’s on its way.”

You’re technically not allowed to eat at the library, so you end up eating on the steps outside when the food arrives, the fresh evening air welcoming after being stuck in a small, stuffy room for a couple of hours. Yoongi keeps pouring his heart out to you all along, as if he’d been holding everything in for too long, and the dam finally burst.

You’re happy to be there for him. Even though most of it is the same thing as at the party last week, you’re happy he’s comfortable enough to confide in you, and you try to cheer him up. 

“If you want,” you say after a time. “I could try to speak to Hobi. See what he really thinks about this all.”

Yoongi holds your gaze for a few seconds before looking away, his eyes shifting to the cloudy sky. “Nah, I don’t think it’s a good idea,” he says. “I’ll just have to move on.”

You don’t know what to say to that, so you just nod. “Your choice. I’ll be here for you.”

He smiles, sighing. “I know. Thank you.”

On that note you return to your study room and to the lab report awaiting you. Yoongi busies himself with his composition as you work, and you finally finish taking care of the text for the results about half an hour later. Nabi said she’d do the discussion, so you send her the link, asking her to tell you if she wants you to fix anything, and then you close your laptop, folding your arms on top of it.

“Done?” Yoongi says, pushing his headset down so that it rests around his neck.

You nod, dropping your face on your arms. “And I’m dead.”

“When do finals start for you?” he asks.

“Next Tuesday,” you admit.

“Isn’t that early?” Yoongi asks, gaze widened in surprise.

It might be. You only have one then though, and you still have two weeks of classes in your other courses before the rest of your finals. You’ll still take it - it means one less final during the true final week.

You tell so to Yoongi, who admits he doesn’t have finals, instead having projects in three classes. It leads to a conversation where you compare biology to his music major, and another fifteen minutes go by in comfortable silence when the conversation dies of its own volition, as you scroll on your phone and Yoongi keeps on working on his music composition.

You startle when someone knocks on the door of the study room. You glance that way, eyes widening when you notice Jungkook on the other side. Yoongi lets out a small laugh at your expense, and you get up, opening the door for Jungkook. 

“What are you doing here?” you ask as he walks in, two coffees in hands. 

“Thought you might need this,” he says, offering you one.

You take it with an eyebrow cocked quizzically, and then you watch him as he drops in one of the empty chairs at the table. He’s got a backpack with him, and he pulls out a laptop and a notebook from it while you and Yoongi are just stunned silent.

“What are you doing?” you ask again as you sit back in your chair. 

“Figured I’d come study here with you guys,” he explains simply.

You glance at Yoongi, who shrugs.

“Oh?” you let out, settling your gaze back on Jungkook.

“Unless you guys don’t want me to?”

Yoongi saves you by replying, “No, you’re all good man. I was leaving anyway.”

He clearly wasn’t, as you’re the one who finished writing your report and he was still in the middle of his composition, yet he still gets up, closing his laptop and putting it in his backpack.

“Text me if there’s anything,” you tell him as he’s sliding one of the straps of his backpack on his shoulder.

His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows, and he nods curtly. “Will do. Thanks for everything.”

You offer him a small smile, and then he’s walking out, not once looking back. 

“Did you really have to come here?” you ask Jungkook, and it sounds far more accusing than you meant it to be.

“What?” he lets out. “Just wanted to see what the hype is all about when it comes to the library.”

You offer him a no-bullshit look. “Were you jealous because I was studying alone with Yoongi?”

Jungkook frowns, a crease appearing between his eyebrows. His lips jut out in the hint of a pout, and something melts inside of you, like it always does when it comes to him.

“He’s the one that left the second I got here,” Jungkook points out.

“Because he’s going through a hard time, dumbass,” you say, punching Jungkook in the shoulder. 

He rubs at the spot, his pout intensifying, if that’s possible. “He still could have stayed, I wouldn’t have minded.”

Jungkook isn’t wrong, and though you really want to be there for Yoongi, you know he’s the kind of person that needs space a lot. Or at least that’s the impression he’s given you in general, and you really hope he didn’t leave because Jungkook showed up.

“I was done though,” you admit, patting your closed laptop. “I was thinking about heading home.”

Jungkook flicks your nose, taking you by surprise, and you sit back in your chair as you shriek. It earns you one of his bunny grins, and you truly are melting like snow in the sun. “Well then you’re going to have to stay with me for a little longer, mmh?”

You tilt your head to the side, though you can’t help the smile that tickles the corners of your lips. “And do what?”

“Study?” he sarcastically lets out. “Do whatever it is that you bio majors do.”

You end up doing so, rereading your notes for your first final. It’s boring, and you don’t think it’s really productive when Jeon Jungkook is sitting next to you, stealing quick glances in your direction. 

You catch him for what feels like the tenth time, and you roll your eyes. “Stop looking at me.”

“Why?”

“Because,” you offer as an explanation. “We should go home.”

He narrows his gaze at you. “Why?”

“People could see us here.” And go and tell Taehyung about it.

“I’ll handle Tae if he gets upset, don’t worry,” Jungkook tries to reassure you, but it does the opposite.

Indeed, a drop of lead forms in your stomach because, what if Taehyung learns?

You don’t want him to know. It’d complicate everything, ruin everything. 

“Besides,” Jungkook adds, “I’ll have to handle him in April anyway.”

You frown, a confused crease streaking across your brow. “Why?”

Jungkook meets your gaze. “I’m going to Paris with Jimin to see your brother at the end of the semester.”

Your heart starts racing in your chest, anxiety flooding your blood. “Oh?”

Jungkook toys with his piercings, scanning your features carefully. “Yeah. It’s been planned for a while.”

“You didn’t tell me.” You’re aware you once again sound accusing, but you can’t help it.

Not when you see the expiration date of your relationship with Jungkook flashing in your mind.

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “I just didn’t think to tell you? I thought I mentioned it when we Facetimed Tae the other day.”

You can’t blame him for not explicitly telling you - the trip has likely been planned for a while, and it’s not like you speak about your brother a lot. Though you mention him once in a while, you’ve both been good at avoiding talking about him. Now that he’s mentioned the Facetime call though, you do recall, and it’s like a hand is squeezing around your heart some more.

“No worries,” you say, and you offer him what you hope is a reassuring smile. “When do you leave?”

“April 29th, I think? I’ll check.”

You nod, and you look away from Jungkook to stare at your laptop instead, though your gaze loses its focus as your brother invades your thoughts. You think about what he’d say - you know he’ll be furious, and he’ll likely kick Jungkook out of your apartment. 

Jungkook will never be able to handle Taehyung. Not when he’s being an overbearing asshole like only he knows to do.

“Peach,” Jungkook says in a small voice that almost sounds whiny. “Why do you look so upset?”

“You can’t handle Tae,” you say. You worry at your bottom lip and then take a deep breath. “It’s really better if he doesn’t know.”

Jungkook remains silent for a few seconds, though he nods his head. “Okay.” He nods again, offering you a tight-lipped smile. “Do you want to head home then?”

“Yeah,” you answer without a beat of silence. “Yeah, I think we should go home.”

Jungkook’s gaze drops to his laptop, and you feel bad. You truly do - he looks defeated, much like Yoongi looked like earlier.

“Can we watch something when we get home though?” you quickly ask.

You can’t help it. You can’t stand the sight of Jungkook upset - it’s just wrong to you.

He immediately brightens, a small curving his lips upwards. “Yeah?” 

You nod. “Yeah, definitely. Should get some cuddles in too.”

His smile widens, and he meets your gaze, the usual mischievous twinkle back in the depths of his eyes. “Sounds like a plan.”

And it really is. You think, you don’t need more with Jungkook. You don’t need the relationship to change, don’t need anyone to know. Because it’s simple right now, and there’s beauty in its simplicity. 

Wednesday, March 27th

“Don’t!” you shriek, but Jungkook ignores you, stealing the TV remote from your hands.

“We’re not watching your reality TV show,” he says as he plops down on the couch into a lying position.

You glare at him, frowning as you fold your arms on your chest. “You like it.”

“Sometimes.” He flashes you a bunny grin that makes you gulp around a sudden lump in your throat. “But right now, I’m in the mood for a movie.”

You look up to the ceiling, searching for salvation yet finding none. “What movie?”

“Just come here,” he says, opening his arms for you.

You can’t resist. His gravity is too strong, and he pulls you in, like he’s the sun and you’re the comet. 

Though you might come from the Kuiper Belt, you know you’re bound to crash into him anyway.

Once you’re nestled in his arms, Jungkook resumes his scrolling on Netflix. 

“What about this?” he asks.

“Extraction?” you say as you eye the movie he stops on. “I’m not in the mood for action.”

“Then a romantic comedy it is.”

You chuckle against him, pecking the mole on his neck. He chooses the movie Always Be My Maybe, and then tightens his grip around you.

“I like that movie,” you say.

“You’ve seen it already?”

You reach for his hand before he’s able to change it. “Yeah, but I don’t mind,” you reassure him. 

He nods, and that’s how you end up watching the movie, slowly dozing off on his chest. You’re in and out of sleep, watching the bright screen whenever you wake up, and when the credits roll in, Jungkook yawns over you.

“Were you sleeping?” you ask, faking offence.

“You were,” Jungkook points out, flicking your nose as you raise your head to look at him. 

You move your face away, resting your head on the couch. “Barely.”

Jungkook cocks an eyebrow, and then you both burst out laughing. 

You like this. You like the intimacy of being with Jungkook in your own home, like that in between these walls you get to call him yours. It’s treacherous, but oh so inebriating, like he’s summer wine you’ve become addicted to.

Instead of watching another movie, Jungkook goes to his room to retrieve his speaker, and he puts a random playlist on while you fetch a rosé bottle from the fridge, where you’ve left it before watching the movie. You’d decided to spend the evening in despite both your friends and his friends asking to hang out, and so you’d gotten a bottle earlier today.

That, and the board game Ticket to Ride, your favourite board game.

“That’s not how it works,” you complain a while later, when you’re one glass in and Jungkook grabs a locomotive and wagon card from the five on the side.

“What?” he lets out.

“If you take a locomotive you can only take one card,” you remind him.

It’s his first time playing, and though the game is fairly simple, you’ve noticed Jungkook has a tendency to try and cheat his way to the win. You’re tempted to let him keep the two cards when he offers you puppy eyes, yet you stand your ground, holding your hand out.

“Give me the wagon back.”

“Take it from me,” he teases, lips stretching in a smirk.

“Oh, you want to play this way?” you reply in the same teasing tone, and Jungkook toys on his piercings.

“Maybe?”

You get up from where you’ve been sitting on the floor, walking to the other side of the coffee table. Jungkook watches you, an apprehensive yet excited look in his eyes, and he laughs the second you drop behind him, hands aiming for his sides.

He leans against you, his large frame almost enough to make you crumple to the floor, and you wrap your arms around him, holding him close.

“Give me the wagon,” you repeat.

“Or what?”

“Or I’m not playing the game anymore.”

He looks over his shoulder at you, a pout on his pink lips. “Okay then, take your wagon back.”

He gives it to you, and you smile victoriously before pecking his cheek. “Thank you.”

You walk back to your side of the table, though you stop halfway, eyes brightening.

“I love this song!” 

Jungkook leans back on his hands, tilting his head to the side as Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol starts playing.

It was your favourite song growing up. You used to listen to a different version of it you’d heard on Grey’s Anatomy, and you’d listen to it whenever you felt sad. Whenever you needed to feel like you weren’t alone in the universe, like someone was waiting for you, somewhere.

And as you look down at Jungkook while the lyrics start, you know someone was waiting all along.

“Sing it for me,” Jungkook says, smiling softly.

You can’t help the blush that creeps on your cheeks. “I don’t know how to sing. But you do!”

He chuckles, yet immediately starts singing as you offer him a hand to pull him up to his feet. He obliges, and he rests his large hands on your waist as you wrap your arms around his neck, holding him close. He sways you to the music as he softly sings, cheeks dusted in pink, and you pull him even closer, resting your head on his chest.

Simple intimacy. That is what you and Jeon Jungkook are made of, and you think, if he’d ask you to lay here, in this moment, you’d lie with him until eternity took you in its hold. Until you’d be nothing more than dust between the stars - remembrance of what was once great. 

But April is looming closer, a giant towering over the both of you, one step away from crushing you under its boot.

“You know,” Jungkook says while the song continues in the background.

“Mmh?” you let out, looking up to meet his gaze.

His eyes are heavy with emotions, and you swim in them, bathe in them. You feel complete, cherished, and you hope he knows you feel the same way.

You hope he knows you’ve been falling in love with him despite the odds.

“I’ve never been like this with anyone before,” he admits, his voice gentle. “I’ve had situationships, I guess, but nothing like us.”

You smile softly, your heart racing in your chest. “Me neither. You’re the first.”

It’s true. Though you’ve sort of dated Sam Hwang for a few weeks during the summer, it was nothing like it is with Jungkook.

Sam Hwang never looked at you the way that Jungkook looks at you.

Jungkook leans forward, resting his forehead against yours as he keeps on swaying you both to the music, the song nearing its last chorus. Your eyes flutter shut from the proximity, and your breaths mingle as you fall silent for a few seconds.

“I love having firsts with you,” he whispers.

You almost reply that you love him. The moment calls for it - the atmosphere is that of romance,  the music is close to your soul, and he… He’s the blood in your veins and the oxygen in your lungs. Yet you can’t say it - you’ve never told anyone you loved them before. And you’re not even sure you truly love him. Yes, you have feelings, but everything is overshadowed by the knowledge that you’re bound to end.

You don’t want to tell him you love him and make it too real only to have him slip from your fingers the second Taehyung learns.

“Me too,” you instead reply. “I love spending time with you.”

It’s as close to the truth as you’ll get, and he allows it, pressing a soft kiss on your lips. It’s slow, patient, like the whole universe will pause for you two. He pulls away when the song ends, bending to grab his phone on the table. 

He restarts the song, and the second his phone is back on the table again, you pull him back in, tiptoeing to kiss him again. He wraps his arm around your waist, holding you tight against him, and you sigh at the pillowy softness of his mouth, at the way his piercings feel just right pressing indents in your lip. His free hand cups your cheek, holding you in place as he deepens the kiss, tilting his head to the side.

His tongue swipes at your bottom lip, almost hesitantly, but you open up for him immediately, tasting the rosé in his mouth as he kisses you deeply, languidly. The kiss never accelerates, yet it’s infinitely passionate.

Much like that first kiss you’d exchange, during the power outage on Valentine’s Day.

You think you knew then - he’d kissed you so softly, like you were fragile, just a flower petal a second from being blown away. Even then, he’d cared for you, and it’d scared you.

But there’s nothing scary about this. There’s nothing scary about the way he gently hikes your shirt up to slide his hand underneath it, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your back, leaving goosebumps in their wake. There’s nothing scary about the way he sighs when you run your hands through his hair, gently tugging at the soft strands. There’s nothing scary about the way he backs you towards the couch, spinning around at the last second so that he can sit down.

There’s nothing scary about him pulling you in, always, so that you straddle his lap, connecting your mouths again a second later. No, it’s only natural. He’s the wind and you the leaves. He’s the sun that shines on you, his moon.

You were always meant to collide after all, and though the aftermath might be terrifying, all you can do right now is enjoy it while it lasts.

Jungkook tentatively grinds up, his arousal evident as he presses against your clothed self. You let out a breathy sound that makes him push his tongue in your mouth, and you suck on it, earning a grunt from him as his hands drop to your hips to drag you on him again. You grab at the hem of his shirt, disconnecting your mouths just long enough to pull the fabric off him, and then you’re kissing him again, crashing your lips on his hard enough that you think you taste blood, though you don’t care.

You just want him. Need him, so viscerally you think you’ll combust.

“Peach,” Jungkook lets out as you move to his neck. 

Unable to resist, you suck a hickey on him, a bright purple mark on the spot where his shoulder connects with his neck. He groans, leaning his head back against the couch to give you better access as you lick at the spot, soothing the sting.

When you straighten, Jungkook meets your gaze, his chest quickly going up and down. You’re just as out of breath as him, and when he reaches for the hem of your shirt, you let him take it off you, leaving you in only your black lace bralette. He looks at your breasts, cupping them in his large hands as he sighs appreciatively.

“Every time it’s like you get more beautiful,” he murmurs, and he looks up at you then, his eyes crinkled at the corners in what you can only call adoration. 

“Kook…”

His hands return to your waist, and he wets his lips, playing with his piercings. You grind against him, and his eyes immediately flutter shut.

“You think we can fuck out here?” you tease, rolling your hips.

“On the couch that your brother bought,” he replies, and there’s something so sinful about the thought that you know you’ll do it.

It’s not like Taehyung is around and will know.

So you bend forward, capturing Jungkook’s mouth in another languid kiss while you unbutton his pants. When the button comes undone, you straighten, standing between his legs so that you can pull the jeans down his legs. You leave the boxers on, eyeing his length as you kneel, hands resting on his thighs.

“Can I suck your dick?” you ask.

He chuckles. “Yes. But please be quick, I want to be buried inside of you.”

You narrow your gaze at him, but let out a laugh despite yourself. 

You focus on his dick again then, on the wet spot at the top where his purple underwear has turned darker. You bend forward, littering small kisses along his shaft, and you tentatively lick at the wet spot, the taste of his precum filling your mouth. And though you’d planned to tease him, to be the brat you know he likes, you give in right away, pulling his boxers down just enough so that you can lick at his slit.

He lets out a breathy sound that has you bite your lip as you look up at him through your lashes. He’s got his head thrown back, eyes closed, and from this angle, all you can see is his sharp jaw.

You pull his boxers down more, and he helps you by raising his ass for a few seconds. His dick springs free, already rock hard, and you immediately grab the base to hold it up as you finish taking off his boxers, letting them tangle around his ankles. You’re quick to lick a long stripe from between his balls up to the tip of his cock, and then you take him in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks around him.

He bucks his hips, fucking up into your mouth, and you moan when he hits the back, your eyes immediately watering. 

He lets you lead after that, hands lost in your hair as you bob your head up and down, working him closer to his high. You love the feel of him in your mouth, love the way he grunts and praises you under his breath, and you think you’d be able to come from just hearing him, pleasuring him. 

It doesn’t get to that though. When Jungkook truly nears his high, he pulls you away from his dick, and you meet his gaze to see his pupils are blown wide, filled with so much lust all you can do is obey when he says, “Go get a condom in my room, mmh?”

You nod, and you get up to walk towards his room, feeling his gaze burning on you as you pass the threshold and head to the night table. You pull a condom out, and you walk back to the living room to find Jungkook jerking himself off, his grip on his dick tight enough you know it has to hurt a little.

“Put it on for me,” he says, and he stops jerking off, holding his dick up for you. 

You sit next to him, pulling the condom out of the tinfoil package, and then you roll it on his dick. He hisses as you do so, but the second it’s on he pushes you back until you’re lying on the couch and he’s hovering over you. 

His hair falls in his eyes, and you quickly push the strands back. He leans in, pressing his lips on yours for a kiss far softer than what you expected, and you smile against him.

He grins when he pulls away, eyes shining with lust and adoration again, and then he’s taking off your pants, taking his sweet time. Kissing every inch of skin revealed, from your inner thigh to a spot below your knee. He stops after that, instead eyeing the wet spot on your underwear, and then he pulls at his piercings, sending you a dark look that makes you go molten.

“I want to fuck you in this,” he says as he finishes taking off your pants, his free hand going to your hip where he traces your underwear. “Want to ruin your panties.”

“Do it,” you challenge him.

He doesn’t need to hear more before he’s returning over you, and his hand pushes your panties to the side so that he can run a finger between your folds, and then circle your clit. You grind your hips, seeking more friction, but Jungkook doesn’t oblige, instead pulling his finger away from your pussy.

“Be patient,” he whispers, and then he kisses you again.

The kiss is feathersoft, gentle, and you lose yourself in the very essence of him. You don’t care - you just want this moment, forever. A scene constantly replaying, away from the atrocity of the world, with your favourite song as the background music.

“Please,” you beg in a soft murmur when he pulls away from your lips, and this time he obliges, returning his hand to your pussy. This time, he pushes in, and you sigh against him as your walls clench around his digit.

“You’re already so wet,” he says, and then he’s kissing you again, his tongue lapping at yours. 

You moan in his mouth, hands lightly scratching his back as he adds a second finger. You can hear squelching sounds between your legs, and you’d be embarrassed if it didn’t feel so good that you can’t form a single coherent thought.

“Fuck,” you curse, and Jungkook chuckles, pecking your cheek.

“You take my fingers so well, peach,” he praises. “Will you take my cock just as well?”

You moan again, and you nod your head yes. “Yeah. Please.”

He smirks, pulling his fingers out of you. You both eye them - they’re covered in your juices, and it’s decadent, sinful.

Even more so when Jungkook puts them in his mouth to clean them thoroughly, drinking in your juices. 

“So sweet,” he whispers after, and then he shifts, straightening between your legs so that he can align his dick with your entrance, your panties still pushed to the side. He meets your gaze, his own dark with lust. “How do you want me tonight?” he asks, rubbing his dick on you slowly.

“Just fuck me, but come near,” you say, pulling on one of his wrists so that he leans over you again. 

He smiles, infinitely soft despite what you’re doing, and then he pushes in, ever so slowly. Inch after inch, Jungkook spears you with his dick until he bottoms out. He stills there, and you wrap your legs around his dainty waist to keep him as close as possible. He obliges, stealing a deep kiss on your lips, and he slowly pulls out before slamming to the hilt again, and you moan in his mouth.

The rhythm he establishes is slow and steady. Deep, in a way that makes you see stars in his gaze. Or maybe that’s just the way the light reflects in his eyes, or the emotions still swirling in the depths of him. You don’t know. All that you know is that you’re falling and falling, with no chance to ever stop now.

You’ve crossed too many lines to ever be able to stop. So you’ll enjoy it while it lasts. Chase all the cars around his head until you can’t anymore, until the last nail is in the coffin and you have to say goodbye to this, to him.

But for now, you enjoy. And you enjoy as best as you can, eyes fluttering shut as he slightly picks up the pace, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. You hold him close, arms and legs tight around him, and you moan as he makes love to you.

At least that’s what this feels like. And you wouldn’t want it any other way. You just want the warm proximity of his body on yours, of his lips kissing your mouth. Jungkook gives you all, and you hope he knows you’re giving all to him in return.

Everything. You’ll give him everything until you have nothing left to give, if he so takes it.

“Fuck, peach,” he whispers. He slows down his rhythm, meets your gaze. “I’m really in love with this pussy of yours.”

You know why he says it that way. Know exactly what he truly means but can’t say, and you take that too, keep it locked up in a safe corner of your heart.

“I know,” you whisper, cupping his cheek, and he rests his forehead on yours again.

“I’ll fuck you like this every day,” he says, and it sounds like a promise.

A promise that maybe you’ll make it past your brother’s return.

“Please do,” you beg, and then you’re kissing again, and he’s pounding into you harder, seeking completion for the both of you.

You come before him. Nails digging in his back while you arch yours, walls pulsing around him. That’s what sends him over the edge, and Jungkook climaxes, his head falling in the crook of your neck as he comes and comes.

He’d paint you white if it wasn’t for the condom, and the thought makes you grind your hips instinctively. He kisses your neck in retaliation, and you moan softly, tilting your head to give him better access.

When you’ve come down from the high, you glance towards the coffee table and your abandoned game of Ticket to Ride. The sight makes you laugh, and you press a soft kiss on the mole on Jungkook’s neck as he asks, “What’s got you laughing?”

“We never finished the game,” you remind him.

He lifts his head just enough to look at the coffee table. “Damn,” he lets out. “I totally forgot about that.”

You can’t blame him. When you’re together, you forget about everything, too - he becomes the center of your universe. And you wouldn’t want it any other way.

“Should we finish it?” you ask.

He meets your gaze, pecks your forehead once. “Shower first?”

You can’t say no to those big doe eyes, so you follow him to the bathroom.

And while he washes your back, you hear the clock ticking, your expiration date looming closer with every second that passes.

Saturday, April 13th

The movie theatre is packed. 

You’re waiting in line for popcorn with Nabi, Namjoon and Ria, while Seokjin, Hoseok and Yoongi go to the bathroom. The hall of the movie theatre is loud, and you’ve been standing in silence with your friends as you wait for your turn, though you’ve been eyeing the menu as you’re trying to decide what to order.

You settle on a medium-sized bag of popcorn to share with Yoongi, and Namjoon and Ria grab different candies and chocolate bars for themselves and your other friends. You’re walking towards your movie room when you notice an all-too recognizable tattooed boy, who stands taller than the group that surrounds him.

His eyes light up when he sees you, and he grins broadly as he waves at you.

Four pairs of eyes turn to look at you - Jimin, Sera, Lisa and Eunwoo - and you smile at them, though your gaze quickly shifts back to Jungkook.

You’d told him you were coming to the movies with your friends before going out for drinks. You’re not surprised he’s decided to pull up - despite everything you’ve told him, he’s jealous of your friendship with Yoongi. Which you reckon is funny - Yoongi is trying to fix things with Hoseok, and all you’ve been doing is offer help to him when he needs it.

You don’t think the relationship is fixable, but you haven’t had the strength to break it to Yoongi yet. Not when they had a moment last week, and he’s been far too happy about it since then.

You walk over to where Jungkook’s standing, your friends in tow. It’s hard to stop yourself from hugging him, but you manage to do it, instead greeting everyone and smiling at Jimin as he asks what movie you’re going to see.  

“Dune 2,” you reply. 

Jimin snorts, saying, “Thought so.”

It sounds ominous, and you slightly furrow your brows, glancing towards Jungkook. He only shrugs his shoulders as he purses his lips.

And that’s how you end up mixing friend groups for the movie. You’re not surprised when Jungkook manages to sit on your left - he’s clearly been scheming for this all along. Yoongi, entirely oblivious, sits on your right.

“I haven’t even seen the first movie,” Yoongi says as he leans towards you. He quickly glances further down the row, where Hoseok sat with Namjoon and Nabi.

Jungkook mirrors Yoongi, and he’s so close you catch a whiff of the detergent he uses to wash his clothes. “It was practically a walking simulator in the desert. Not much to miss.”

Yoongi nods, sitting back in his seat. He offers you a knowing look, and then turns towards Seokjin and Ria on his other side, joining whatever conversation they’re having. You purse your lips, before sliding your gaze back to Jungkook.

“What are you doing here?” you ask through gritted teeth.

“My friends wanted to see the movie,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. “Thought we could go at the same time.”

You look up to the ceiling, though a smile is playing at the corners of your lips. “What a coincidence.”

He grins. “What a coincidence indeed.”

It makes you chuckle, and before you can say anything else, the light of the movie theatre dims, leaving you in only the glow of the screen as it comes to life.

You eat your popcorn as many movie trailers pass on the screen, Yoongi taking some once in a while. The movie starts when you’re halfway done with the bag, and soon you’re lost in the scenes, too focused to eat.

That’s when Jungkook strikes, stealing a handful of popcorn from your bag.

“Hey!” you whisper-shout, and he winks at you as he eats a mouthful of the snack. 

“What?” he whispers back once he’s swallowed.

“That’s mine.”

He flicks your nose, leaning closer to say directly in your ear, “What’s yours is mine, and what’s mine is yours, peach.”

You narrow your gaze. “You haven’t even bought any snacks.”

He shrugs. “I knew I’d steal yours.”

You roll your eyes, slightly shaking your head as you look back towards the screen, and he chuckles softly. Scenes flash in front of your eyes, and you get lost in the action. It might be an hour later, or just a few minutes, when Jungkook pokes your knee, attracting your attention.

You glance at him, but he’s focusing on the screen, his skin looking honey-like in the light. You furrow your brows in question, but when he doesn’t say anything, you shrug, looking back at the screen.

He does it again thirty seconds later, and this time he’s stifling a laugh when you glance at him.

“What do you want?” you whisper as you lean closer to him.

“You,” he replies simply, his eyes darkening as he meets your gaze.

You gulp. “We’re in the middle of a movie theatre with all of our friends.”

“I know,” he says, shrugging. “I’ve just been thinking of how you feel around my…”

You punch his shoulder before he can finish his sentence, and Lisa throws you a look that makes you sit back in your seat, folding your arms on your chest.

“Just focus on the movie, Kook,” you mumble.

He chuckles again, but before he can say anything else, Lisa nudges him. He glances at her, leaning closer when she whispers something you can’t quite hear. 

His whole demeanour changes after that, and he sits back in his chair, a slight pout on his lips. Gone is the playfulness, but you think it’s safer that way. He’s way too obvious when you’re in public, and though Taehyung still hasn’t said a thing, you know it’s bound to explode in your face soon.

Jungkook is leaving for Paris in just a few weeks after all. 

It douses you, and you finish watching the movie with a lump in your throat, one that doesn’t disappear even when you’re at the bar later, your friend group mixing with Jungkook’s far too easily. Of course, Jungkook notices, and he sits next to you, nudging you.

You glance at him, noticing the concern in his eyes.

“Is something wrong?” he asks.

“No,” you lie, but he sees through it immediately.

“Is it your cramps?”

You’re on your period. Obviously, he knows, and he’s been sweet about it, buying you snacks and putting his hands, always warm, on your lower stomach while you cuddle. 

You purse your lips, shaking your head. The concern doesn’t disappear from his features though, and you feel bad. Enough so that you say, “I’m just…”

You trail off as Lisa appears, sitting on the other side of Jungkook with two beers in hand. She gives one to Jungkook, who thanks her quickly before setting his gaze on you again. Yet she lingers, and you find yourself unable to speak, shrugging your shoulders.

“If there’s anything, just let me know,” Jungkook says, and he offers you a small smile that does nothing to tame the worry in his gaze. “I don’t mind heading home earlier.”

You nod once, and the conversation dies as Hoseok appears on the other side of the table, cheeks red with the shots he’s already downed.

“Not drinking tonight?” he asks you.

You shrug. “Not really in the mood.”

Hoseok narrows his gaze in his suspicion. “I’ve never seen you not in the mood to drink.”

You chuckle. “Well, now you have.”

You’re relieved when he lets it go, especially as you sensed Jungkook tensing by your side, an indication that he was going to intervene if Hoseok didn’t drop it. There’s a short silence, during which you notice Hoseok looking at Yoongi where he’s drinking with Namjoon and Seokjin, a few tables over.

You glance at Jungkook, motioning towards Hoseok. Jungkook frowns, not understanding, and you quickly pull out your phone to text him.

[10:37 pm] You: i want to talk to hobi about yoongi but not in front of you guys

Jungkook pulls out his phone to read your message. He doesn’t reply, yet he nods, turning towards Lisa. “Where are Sera and Jimin?”

“Ordering something at the bar,” Lisa replies, entirely unaware. “Why?”

“Want shots?”

Lisa beams under Jungkook’s gaze, and you taste bile in your mouth as they get up and walk away together, Jungkook shooting you a quick glance over his shoulder.

You can complain all you want about Jungkook being jealous of Yoongi, but you’re just as jealous of Lisa after all.

“What’s up with you and Yoongi?” you ask when they’re out of earshot, gaining Hoseok’s attention.

“Man…” he trails off. “I don’t know. I don’t know how I feel.”

“Is that why you’ve decided to switch universities?” 

You’ve been asking yourself that question for weeks, but Hoseok has been good at avoiding you, clearly realizing that you’ve grown closer to Yoongi.

Hoseok widens his gaze, and the blush on his cheeks deepens. “No? I said it’s because I’m following a professor.”

“What professor?” you ask, cocking an eyebrow.

Hoseok shrugs, his eyes dropping to a knot in the wood of the table. “Why do you care?”

“You’re my friend,” you remind him. “No matter the history that we have. I’d be sad to see you go.”

He chuckles, and it’s a lot more bitter than you ever expected to hear him. “Listen, I don’t really want to be questioned. Is Yoongi the one that asked you to ask me this?”

“No,” you say. “Not at all. I’m just worried about you.”

“About me?” he repeats. “I’m all good, Y/n.”

He doesn’t sound convincing at all, so you say, “Just make sure you don’t do something you’ll regret.”

“I already did,” he admits, and his glance towards Yoongi is far too telling. “I’m not into him like that. I don’t even know if I’m into men like that.”

“Have you told him?” 

He shrugs. “Here and there. I think he knows.”

You think so too, as Yoongi had mentioned it when you’d studied together a few weeks ago. 

“Just make sure you’re honest with him, and honest with yourself,” you say after a few beats of silence.

Hoseok purses his lips, nodding once. “Will do.”

The air turns awkward as Hoseok just keeps on staring at the knot in the wood. You feel bad - you used to be a lot closer to him, and in just a few weeks, your relationship shifted. But you think it might be for the better - you can’t imagine how Jungkook would feel if you were close to someone you used to sleep with, considering he’s jealous of a friend you’ve never done anything with.

Not that that would stop you from being friends with someone. Especially not when April 29th is coming soon, and with it, your situationship - you’re not sure you can call it a relationship - will end. 

“Where are you moving?” you ask.

“San Diego,” he replies quickly, and a shy smile appears on his lips, like the thought excites him. “I can’t wait to not have to deal with winter anymore.”

“I can imagine,” you say, chuckling. “Though winter wasn’t too bad this year.”

“If there was an inch of snow then it was bad.” He says it wisely, and this time you laugh as he breaks into a smile.

The conversation is easier after that. Still heavy, because you both know the friendship likely won’t survive the distance, but you still manage to have fun as you speak about classes, about life, and about what he’ll do once he’s in California. Half an hour passes like that, and then you move to the bar, agreeing to grab a single drink.

You settle on an Amaretto Sour, and Ria and Nabi join you at the bar. You end up doing Lychee bombs with them, and then you follow them all back to the table where the rest of your friends are, along with Jimin, Sera and Jungkook.

You’re relieved to see Lisa isn’t there. Not that she’s not nice. She always is, despite her obvious attraction towards Jungkook. And though she clearly senses that something’s happening between you and Jungkook, she’s never said anything, and you respect her for it.

You sit between Nabi and Ria, and Nabi quickly melts against Namjoon next to her. You snort at the sight, turning to say it to Ria, who seems to be in a staring contest with Seokjin across the table.

You don’t really know what’s happening between the two. Ria mentioned that she’s not interested in him, saying he’s just gotten out of a relatively long relationship, and you’re not close enough to Seokjin to know his opinion.

You’re just observant, and you know just how much the air fills with electricity when these two are concerned. Lightning is bound to strike at some point, and you just hope it does so without hurting anyone.

You wonder, is that how the people around you perceive you and Jungkook?

The evening unfolds, calmer than your usual outings - you find yourself going home just a little after midnight. Jungkook’s with you, and he unlocks the door as you slowly walk up the stairs, shooting you a glance.

“You sure everything’s okay?” he asks as you finally reach the top.

You purse your lips, meeting his gaze. The streetlight down the stairs reflects in his gaze, and he looks angelic, innocent like this.

“Yeah, I’m just…” you trail off. “You’re leaving soon.”

His features soften, and he opens the door for you to walk in, following behind you. “I know,” he says once he’s shut the door.

You turn the lights on, meeting his gaze. Unable to help yourself, you cup his cheek, thumb swiping at his skin. “Want to share a bed tonight?” you ask.

As if you haven’t been sharing a bed for weeks already.

“Yes, of course,” he immediately agrees, and he covers your hand with his own, tugging you closer. “If you kiss me first.”

That makes you smile, like only he knows to do, and you tiptoe, pressing your lips on his in a featherlike peck.

“That doesn’t count,” he complains, lips jutting out in a small pout.

“Then kiss me,” you challenge. “Kiss me stupid.”

You don’t need to ask twice - he closes the distance between your mouths, lips ravaging yours, and you lose your hands in his hair.

Later, after you’ve sucked his dick in the shower - you don’t like having sex on your period, but you still wanted to make him feel good - you lie down in your bed, the fairy lights making the atmosphere far gentler than it should be.

It’s treacherous, and you lie with your head on Jungkook’s chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. Chasing Cars is playing on his speaker, and you hold him tighter, putting all of your love in the act. He kisses the top of your head, mouth lingering against you.

“I’m happy you came tonight,” you admit. Indeed, despite the anxiety of Taehyung learning, you like hanging out with Jungkook. Like spending as much time as possible with him right now - the clock is ticking after all, and the sound resembles that of a bomb about to go off.

“Me too,” he whispers. 

You lift your head, meeting his gaze. “Have you talked to Taehyung recently?” 

The question takes him aback, and his eyebrows knit together. “I speak to him almost every day, why?”

Because you’ve been avoiding your brother like the plague. Because you know the second you speak to Taehyung, you’ll blurt out the truth, and you’re not ready to face his reaction yet.

You doubt you’ll ever be ready.

“How is he and the girl doing?” you ask. “Ariane?”

“Good,” Jungkook answers. “They’re pretty much official now.”

Your lips stretch in a thin line, and you rest your head on his chest again. 

You don’t want him to see the jealousy in your gaze.

“Good for him.” It sounds just as flat as you feel - like a tire pierced with a nail, emptied of all air.

Jungkook must feel it too, because his grip around you tightens, like he’s trying to fuse your bodies together. As if it’d save you from the looming heartbreak.

“We’ll figure it out,” Jungkook whispers a while later, when you thought he was asleep. 

You hope he doesn’t take your silence personal - you just don’t think you can figure it out.

Taehyung would never let it happen. So silence is what you offer Jungkook, and you wonder if the beat his heart skips is an indication that he’s breaking, much like you are breaking too.

Sunday, April 28th 

Time goes by fast. Sometimes, you think it’s even faster when you’re trying to hold on to something - like sand slipping through the fingers of a fist held tight, time has been slipping away.

The end is near. 

You’re sitting on Jungkook’s bed, watching him as he packs his suitcase. He’s been lazy, stopping often so that he can kiss you, hold you. He’s been clingy lately, much like you’ve been.

Like you’ve been trying to fit a whole relationship in just a few weeks. 

Jungkook lifts his head from his sock drawer, meeting your gaze. He smiles, but there’s sadness behind his pupils, lurking in the depths of his eyes. You want to take it away, but all you manage to do is smile a weak smile.

“I wonder if they’ll want to go to the Catacombs,” Jungkook says.

He’s been saying random stuff once in a while as he packs, grasping for a conversation you haven’t been able to join in. But you try, you always try, and you know he’s not mad at you for it.

Jungkook could never be mad at you. 

It’s strange how he changed in the last four months. You think back on the Incident, that dreaded Incident you had believed to be the most embarrassing thing in your life. Today, you know it wasn’t. It was the start of something great, something you wish never had an expiration date.

But nothing gold can stay, or so they say.

“I bet they’re creepy,” you answer. “Not sure I’d go if I were you.”

“I assume you’re the kind of person who gets scared while watching horror movies too, huh?” Jungkook teases, and he walks towards you, hands full of socks.

He drops them in the suitcase at your feet as you slightly shake your head, a teasing smirk growing on your lips. You doubt it meets your eyes, but it’s the best you can do.

“Says you, who prefers watching romance over action,” you tease.

Indeed, the first few times you’ve watched movies together, he’s suggested going for action first. But he never once appeared disappointed when you chose a romance movie, instead beaming at you as he nodded enthusiastically. It was adorable, endearing, like everything is when it comes to Jungkook.

You can hardly believe he used to sleep around, used to be the most renowned fuckboy in your college. Nowadays, Jungkook appears more like a hopeless romantic, and it’s easy to figure out why.

As someone who never received love from his family, he’s been craving it his whole life. At least you think so, and you’ve been giving it to him, pouring it to him, by actions rather than words.

“Nothing beats romance,” he declares, and you chuckle as he plops down on the bed next to you.

You turn your head towards him as he lies down, one hand on his chest.

“Is that why you cry in every movie?”

He frowns, a pout adorning his lips. “I don’t.”

You cock an eyebrow, because obviously he does, and you both burst out laughing at the same time. 

No matter how dreaded the circumstances are, the chemistry between you and Jeon Jungkook is undeniable. And as you look at him, you wonder if there’s a universe out there where you’re allowed to be with him. Where older brothers aren’t a thing, and where you get to call him yours, to scream it from the rooftops.

It douses your enthusiasm, and your smile falls as you look away. 

Jungkook sits up, cupping your cheek to force you to look at him again. He scans your features for a few seconds, and you stare at his eyebrow piercing, as if that will keep you from crumbling.

“You know…” he lets out. He sucks on his lower lip piercings, pulling at them so hard you think it has to hurt. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Yeah?”

He nods. “I really want to make us work.”

His simple sentence empties everything in your head, in your soul, until there’s just him left. 

“But how?”

“I’ll speak to Taehyung,” he says, for what has to be the thousandth time. Indeed, you’ve had that conversation before, but you never once agreed. “I’ll speak to him in Paris, and then when I come back this doesn’t have to be over.”

“This?” you repeat.

“Us.”

You sigh, and you look between his eyes. Hope lights his gaze, and you think there has to be a museum out there to exhibit such beauty. 

Jungkook is breathtaking in every way that matters.

“Tae will kill you,” you say, and the hope slowly withers like flowers in the fall. “Try to have a nice trip instead.”

“Then we can talk to him when I come back,” Jungkook suggests. “Together. I can use you as a human shield if he tries to kill me.”

You snort, and the hope reignites in his gaze. “What if it doesn’t work?”

“Then he’ll be mad,” Jungkook simply states. “I don’t want to lose you, peach.”

Fuck. You’re in love, and you’re in love deep.

“You might lose his friendship,” you say, but your resolve is melting away far quicker than you expected. Because he’s offering you a silver lining, a life vest in the storm that’s been raging inside your head for weeks.

“I honestly don’t care,” Jungkook says, but you see it in his eyes: he cares, and he’d be hurt. “I’m sure he’ll get over it.”

You highly doubt so but… what if he does? What if he forgives Jungkook, forgives you?

Then you wouldn’t need to travel to another universe. You’d have this one, and you’d have Jungkook.

Maybe you should try.

“Are you sure?” you ask, voice smaller than the atoms holding your body together.

He nods vehemently. “I am. 100%. I don’t want to lose you when we’ve barely just started.”

“Kook…”

He kisses you then, as if he needs to show you with action instead of words. You end up tangled in his bed, your bodies connected on a level deeper than the physical, yet you wouldn’t dare say it. And he doesn’t either, not even when you inevitably go to bed later that evening. 

You’re nestled in his embrace, a few minutes after he’s turned his LED lights off, when you say, “Kook?”

“Mmh?”

“Don’t talk to Tae in Paris,” you say. “We’ll wait for you to come back. And we’ll talk to him together.”

“Okay,” he whispers. “Okay. If that’s your wish, then I can do it.” He’d said so earlier after all.

You nod. “I think it’s better if it comes from us both instead of just you.”

“Makes sense.” Jungkook kisses your forehead, and a soft smile spreads on your lips. “And peach?”

“Yeah?” you murmur.

“If you miss me too much, feel free to sleep in my bed and wear my clothes, okay?”

“Okay.”

He kisses your forehead again, and despite the words exchanged, you fear it might mean goodbye.

Prev | Chapter 10.5 | Next

☆☆☆☆☆

no but why did I forget how sad this chapter was? Help, they are so afraid to lose each other :') anywayyys what did you guys think about this chapter? Did you like it?? Please let me know:)

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

[ianyoa]

SOMETHING SUPER SWEET

jjk men x baker f!reader wc: 757 featuring: satoru gojo, suguru geto, nanami kento, choso kamo, yuji itadori, megumi fushiguro, yuta okkotsu.

summary ; jjk men headcannons with a baker girlfriend !

Satoru Gojo LOVES the fact that you can bake. Coming back to a sweet treat is like a dream come true. If you’re having insecurities about trying something new out, he’s the first to reassure you that it’s already perfect on the first go. He loves watching you bake when there’s downtime. Whenever you’re distracted he likes to dip his finger into the batter and have an early taste… which leads into a spoonful, then another, and another. Next thing you know, you’re giving Satoru a slice of cake while he’s in bed with a stomach ache because he insists he’s TOTALLY fine and doesn’t want it to go to waste. 

Suguru Geto claims to be indifferent. He comes over and sees a brownie, he’ll only eat it because “you made them.” Truth is, he loves them so, so much. After a full day of having to take in awful curses, there’s nothing better than having something delicate that his sweet girlfriend made. Maybe one day he’ll vocally express his love for them, but you already tell how much he enjoys them by the look in his eyes when he comes back to the smell. 

Nanami Kento, being the man he is, helps you. He loves coming back to see you midway through baking. Doesn’t matter if he’s tired, he’ll wash his hands and jump right in with you. He loves it when you make bread together. It’s perfect for him to pack it up for his lunch the next day. He doesn’t lean towards sweets, maybe having a bite or two and leaving the rest for you. But the second you make croissants, muffins, biscuits, you name it.. he’s thinking about the perfect time to propose. 

Choso Kamo is amazed. Seriously, like.. how is this possible? He gets a little nervous whenever you tell him to join you, he just doesn’t want to screw up since you always do it perfectly. Choso ends up enjoying it a lot! He gets happy whenever it starts forming together. One thing he loves doing, decorating the cookies after. You give him a couple of piping bags with different icings and a tray of sprinkles and he’s sitting there for who knows how long trying to make it look perfect for you. He loves watching you bake, not just staring at the dough as you make it from nothing to something, but the look on your face once it’s complete and you’re satisfied.

Yuji Itadori takes pride in having a girlfriend who can bake. Every time you make something, you’ll always have to make extras so he can take it for his friends. Gives them to others with the biggest smile on his face saying that you were the one who made them. He’s quite literally your number-one fan. Encourages you to open some sort of shop, even if you claim it’s just a hobby, so he can pass on the delight of these sweets to others. Everyone has to know what a real dessert tastes like! But you always have to make sure that there’s plenty left for him.

Megumi Fushiguro doesn’t mind it. He doesn’t go out of his way to ask for anything but if you offer, sure he’ll take some. As long as it’s not anything insanely sweet, he quite enjoys it. Loves it when you make something with dark chocolate though. He drinks black coffee of course he wouldn’t mind some dark chocolate cookies or something simple like a fruit coated in dark chocolate. Whenever you do manage to get him to eat something a little more on the sweeter side, he never complains. It’s something that you made. He claims to never say anything against it because that would be rude but really, it’s the only sweet thing he’ll ever fully enjoy without complaining. 

Yuta Okkotsu enjoys making sweets for you! It started when one day you gave him a cupcake as a treat for the stress that he’s endured, then the next day he gives you a 2 tiered cake. This man will always give you something in return. Sure he might’ve never considered the idea of baking but once you two started dating and he saw how much you enjoyed it, he started practicing so one day you two can do it together. It slowly became normal for you two to make each other something every once in a while. Sure his baking might be really good, but he claims that he’ll never reach your level. There’s something about your sweets that makes his day instantly better.

⁺ ﹒ ˚ ₊ ‧꒰ა ﹒ ✦﹒ ໒꒱ ‧ ₊ ˚ ﹒ ⁺

notes ; i wrote this because i was watching a baking show LMAOO

[lovemybluebully]

How To Pet a Wolverine

I finally got to see 'Deadpool and Wolverine' on Sunday and have been inspired to write a little tickle fic. :) Hope you guys enjoy!

Warning for movie spoilers and lots of foul language and general Deadpool-isms. But if you've seen the movie too then this is exactly what you should expect from the two of them. XD

M/M Tickle Fic

Word Count: 2,343

Deadpool groaned as he was slammed headfirst into the dashboard of the Odyssey again, taking a moment to upright himself as he turned back around to make eye contact with one pissed off Wolverine.

They had been nonstop fighting for over twenty minutes now and with the both of them being able to heal so quickly it could go on indefinitely. But there was no time for this! With every minute that ticked by that was one less minute that Wade had at the chance to save his universe.

Wade wasn't the type of guy to ever give up, but he knew there was absolutely zero chance that Logan was going to. The older man even seemed to be enjoying taking all of his pent-up anger out through his endless stabbing and slicing at Wade's body.

"Okay! Time out!" Wade screeched with his hands up in a 'T' shape just as Logan launched himself from the back and landed on top of him with his claws at the ready, though managing to restrain himself from thrusting them into Wade's head for the moment.

Wade spoke slowly with his hands still up as a sign of surrender.

"Now let's just take a second here......to calm down......and reassess the situation."

"You started it, bub," Logan growled in his face as the merc scoffed and tossed his head around in exasperation.

"Ohhh c'mon! Can't we just admit that we were both giant assholes?!"

Logan only retained his glower while the tips of his claws pressed into the side of Wade's head.

"Uggh fine! I'll be the grown up here, geez. Okay I'm sorry I punched you in the face first. And I'm sorry I lied about being able to get your world back. But you know there is still a chance that it is possible. Right? We don't know for sure yet that my claim was total bullshit. But I promise that from here on out there will be no more lies from me .....Okay? We good?"

The anger in the feral man's eyes began to subside along with the tension in his muscles diminishing as his breathing grew less harsh and had evened out.

"Not a lie. An educated fucking wish," Logan smirked and retracted his foot-long claws back into his hand much to Wade's relief, "Ya know that's probably the most ridiculous thing I've heard in a long time."

"Sorry, but I was in a panic trying to diffuse the situation and sometimes my mind just comes up with the stupidest shit and I can't control what comes out of my mouth."

"Sometimes?" Logan raised a skeptical brow, making Wade gasp in mock offense.

"Well that's not very nice. I'm a human being, you know, with feelings and dreams.....," he paused as he eyed the man hovering over him up and down before adding, "...and a raging boner."

The Wolverine let out an annoyed sigh and shook his head.

"For fucks sake, does everything have to be a perverted joke with you?"

"Who's joking, gorgeous? Now get off of me. My pants only have so much room for expansion," he carried on while simultaneously giving Logan a poke in the stomach, eliciting a snort and a faint twitch that Wade didn't fail to notice as the man promptly backed off of him.

"Well well, what in the name of PG-rated shit have we got here?" Wade said a little giddily, tilting his head as Logan looked at him with a suspicious frown from where he had now settled into the 3rd row back seat.

"The fuck you babblin' about?" He continued to glare while Wade began slowly crawling towards him from the front of the van.

"I mean, either this is just a wet dream I'm having, or it appears the big, bad Wolverine may be a little ticklish."

Logan's face remained stone-cold, showing no sign of fear as he just huffed and rolled his eyes.

"You're insane. Just stay the fuck away from me."

Wade only shook his head with a grin a mile wide being concealed by his mask as he closed in on his quarry.

"Mm mm, sorry Peanut. But I think we've reached that point in our relationship where it's time to explore each other's bodies. Don't worry, I'll be gentle," he was a mere arm's length away now as Logan bristled up and snarled at him; his claws shooting back out of his fists.

"Wade, I'm not joking. Do NOT fuckin' touch me, or so help me I'll splatter your brains all over the walls of this fucking cab!"

"Ooooh getting a little defensive there," the merc pauses as he turns his head to look out at the audience, now speaking in a husky whisper, "I love it when they play hard to get. Time to enact my elaborate and well-thought-out plan..."

Deadpool lurched back with an act of surprise and flailed his arms around in a frenzy before pointing out the window behind where Logan sat.

"Holy shit! Look! It's Johnny! Oh thank God! He's alive!"

Logan had absolutely no idea why he turned around to look. He knew damn well that there was going to be no one there. Maybe it was his nerves finally getting to him as he came to the realization that this crazy freak of a man was seriously about to tickle him.

Wade delayed not a second as he threw himself onto Logan and tackled him back into the cushions where he got his bigger frame trapped between the seats, ending up with Wolverine's claws plunged into both sides of his ribcage.

"Ouchie! Hahaha! Just kidding! Johnny's still dead, you dummy! Now it's tickle time!" He buried his dancing fingers into Logan's stomach as the man growled and clenched his teeth while beginning to squirm underneath him. 

"Grrrrggggh! Wade! Motherfuc-Get the fuck offa me!" He yanked his claws out of Wade's sides and continued to frantically stab into his body. Really he wanted to slice the other man's arms off to get him to stop, but the way he was wedged between the seats didn't give him very much room to move his arms efficiently.

"Awww are you trying to tickle me back? How fun! But you know, you really need to work on your technique. Something more like this would work a loooot better....," Wade's hands moved up to tickle his ribs, pressing in hard to make sure to get through the X-man's thick uniform top as Logan bucked and snorted while he tried to hold himself together.

"St-Stop! Goddammit! Stop ticklin' me, ya prihihick!" A regrettable giggle escaped him, and he knew he'd lost any hope that Wade would lay off of him now.

"Ahh now we're getting somewhere. Looks like you really are ticklish, huh?" His hands continued squeezing up and down Logan's sides with rapid speed.

"I never...ssssaid I wasn't-Gahah! Stupid ahahasshole-Aahahahaha!" Logan finally couldn't keep it in any longer as gruff laughter spilled out of him and the power behind his stabbings grew weaker and weaker.

"That is so true. Thank you for pointing that out. You wanna go ahead and do that for me? Hm? You wanna tell me how ticklish you are? How the mighty Wolverine absolutely cannot take the tickles? C'moooon, tell daddy all about it," Wade grinned as he was rewarded with a hard snort from Logan as he unsuccessfully tried to regain control of his laughter.

"Fuhuhuhuck yooooou-ahahahahahaah! Okay okay I'm.....," he wheezed much to Wade's amusement, "I'm seheeheeheerious! That's enohohough!"

"Oh no, this is just getting good. Pretty sure you've had this coming for a long time now, big guy. This may sound crazy, but I'm guessing you don't get tickled very often. Which is a damn shame because look how adorably ticklish you are!" Wade cooed teasingly while kneading his fingers into Logan's belly again as more snorty laughs bubbled out of him.

"I hahahate you sohohohooo fuhuhuhucking muhuhuhuch!" By now Logan had completely abandoned his attempts to stab Wade as he realized that it was pointless and now tried using his arms to guard his sensitive torso while continuing to writhe helplessly.

"Don't say such things, my squirmy wormy. I promise I'll grow on ya. Like a hemorrhoid sure, but that's all semantics. Tell you what, if you promise to refer to me as Marvel Jesus for the rest of the movie I'll let you up right now."

"As soohoohoon ahahas ya let mehehehehe uhup-eehehehehhehehe-I'm g-gonna fuhuhucking kill yooohoou!" Logan bellowed out, but the way he was giggling and pathetically making attempts to push Wade's hands away gave the appearance that he was far from being able to kill anyone right now.

"Ooooh someone's a little sassy pants. Not exactly smart to mouth off to someone who's tickling the crap out of you, but I get the impression you're more of an act before thinking kinda guy. That's alright, we'll tickle that shitty attitude right out of you."

Logan was able to get his big forearms crossed over his stomach in defense, prompting Wade to quickly scope out another target for his tickling barrage as he lunged forward and managed to jam his hands past Logan's clenched biceps up into his armpits.

"Nohohohooooo.....," Logan's thundering guffaw broke up into a long, airy wheeze as he thrashed about in silence for a few moments with Wade delighting in his reactions.

"Awww look at you. Wolverine's not such a tough guy. You just have to know how to pet him and then he's just a cute little helpless Wolvie, isn't he? Does that tickle too much? Does it? Coochie coochie coo!" He pushed his fingers in further to wiggle deep into the soft center of the armpits while the feral mutant convulsed in spasms before finding his voice again.

"Shhh-Shhhihihihit! Hahahahahaahaa! You're dehehehehehead!"

Wade sharply tilted his head in disbelief.

"Really? Still being a grumpy cunt after all this joy and laughter I've brought to you? I was sure you'd be thanking me by now. Hmmm maybe I'm not trying hard enough. You know what? Yes, I think I have just the thing." 

The merc pulled his mask up past his nose before shoving Logan's arms out of the way and yanking up his uniform top, exposing a hairy wall of tightly packed abdominal muscles that Wade was nearly distracted by before refocusing on the task at hand.

"Time for a blow job!" Wade quickly dove his face straight into Logan's belly and began blowing a very ticklish array of raspberries all over as the tough Xman exploded into hysterics.

"Bwwaaahahahaah! You fuhuhuhuhuck! Ahahahahahaha! Stahahap ihihihit! Stahahahahahahaaap! I'll kihihihihilll yoohoohooou! Baaahaahaahahahahah! Fuhuhuhuhuhuuuuck! That tihihihickles!  N-Nohohohohoahahahahahhahaha! Pleeheeheeease!"

Wade almost stopped in shock as that last word played over his ears. He had neared the point of getting Wolverine to beg for mercy, which he would most certainly never do when tortured under any other circumstances. That seriously put it all into perspective for him of just how ticklish the big lug really was.

Having gotten this far he wanted to push it more. Logan's stomach was clearly a major weak spot and with the right technique he was confident that he could drive some forbidden words from his lips. 

The loud farting noise his mouth made as he blew long and hard right into Logan's bellybutton echoed throughout the whole vehicle along with the screaming laugh that burst out of Logan's chest as he momentarily levitated off of the seat cushion.

Several fantasies began playing through Wade's head as he pictured Wolverine completely breaking down and begging profusely for mercy. That would give him the ultimate bragging rights for sure. Unfortunately, his devious thoughts had distracted him far too much. 

Logan had desperately been looking for a way out of this situation and now was his chance. He had to act fast before he was literally tickled to death. 

With a twist of his body, he managed to lift one of his legs to put a foot against Wade's stomach and violently kick him away, sending the merc flying back towards the front of the van with a surprised yelp.

Grateful for the tickling to finally end Logan immediately sat up and tried to catch his breath while Deadpool again had to turn himself over from his current upside-down position where he had landed on his head.

"God...dammit.....I told ya....to fucking....stop....," Logan panted as he glared dangerously at Wade, who simply scoffed and gave him a dismissive hand.

"Oh don't be so dramatic! It was just a little tickling. Besides a guy like you should be able to take ten times worse than that."

Logan's only reply was a vicious snarl and the snikt sound of his claws coming out as he got up and began to approach the now wide-eyed merc.

"Woah woah, take it easy! It was all in good fun! You don't have to pull that big macho act on me. You can't fool me, I know you were having fun too, right Logan? Uh.........Right?"

"............."

A few minutes later and Wade found his whole body completely wrapped up and restrained by all of the seat belts in the van with them even covering his entire face and preventing him from uttering more than muffled words.

"Hmph. Finally figured out a way to shut you up," Logan smirked as Deadpool squirmed in his prison of seatbelt webbing; able to hear but unable to see and speak clearly.

"It's true what they say, silence is golden. And I definitely prefer you as bein' the merc without the mouth. Whaddya think about that?" He reached over and tickled his fingers over an exposed area on Wade's side, producing muffled chuckles as his thrashing increased.

"Well I certainly ain't letting you get one up on me. Besides, you like this ticklin' stuff, don't ya? Don't worry, it's all in good fun. Unlike you though, I promise not to be gentle." 

One hand dug hard into vulnerable ribs and the other into his thigh as Wade made a futile attempt to scream for mercy.

[crushmeeren]

࿐ it’s kenma’s turn! eijirou’s version can be found here.

⋆ ⬪ happy halloween!!! that’s a wrap everyone! i hope you all enjoyed my kinktober event, although i am a little relieved it’s over. this one isn’t too long, i wanted to end it with some shortish and to the point.

࿐ master list link ࿐ kinktober master list

⋆ ⬪ KINKS/STUFF INCLUDED ࿐ choking, biting/marking, praise kink, rough sex, anal sex, kind of enemies to lovers? it’s a fast paced transition tho, reader is quite feisty in this.

┊ ༝ ᭝ ༝ short summary ༝ ᭝ ༝ ┊ ‣ ‣ ‣ ‣ Kenma, according to you, is the laziest and worst incubus you’ve ever worked with. As a succubus, you work twice as hard as he does and still he ends up wreaking more havoc and causing such an insane amount of psychological damage that it causes your blood to boil. When you confront him about it, Kenma’s apathetic as usual. Then he shows you why he wears the crown. What a fool you were.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

Kenma this, Kenma that, fucking blah blah Kenma.

The name is seared into your memory at this point, always falling from the mouth of your tight ass boss. “Oh, why can’t you be more like him?”, or “Kenma is our best incubus, why don’t you take notes on how he operates?”

How could you be expected to compete with someone who does no wrong?

You’ve come home with makeup smudged and your body aching more times than you can count, but Kenma never has a hair out of place. The enticing image of your claws slicing through Kenma’s face has your stomach squirming with bloodlust, but a sharp snap close to your ear forces the daydream to drift away.

You come back to the present, shifting your bored expression towards your boss instead burning a hole in the wall. He’s pursing dry and cracked lips, clenching his fists tightly on top of a run down, shabby desk.

There’s not much interior design in hell, after all.

“Did you hear a word I said?”

“Nope.” The tap, tap of your nails on the metal chair rings out and your bosses eyebrow twitches. You’d been tuning out all the nonsense he’d been spewing because you really don’t need another bullshit lecture on how to fuck someone and draw out their energy properly.

He squeezes his eyes shut and pinches the bridge of his nose, visibly restraining himself from leaping over the desk to strangle you. When his eyes flash back open they’re glowing.

“Why can’t you be more like Kenma?”

Red clouds your vision, expression thunderous. “Don’t you fucking dare say that to me!” Your tail coils tightly behind you as you slam a hand down onto his desk.

Your boss stares at you, unimpressed and unconcerned at your explosive attitude.

“Do we have to do this every single time?” He asks, the weight of the world seemingly pressing down on his shoulders. He sets his elbows on the desk and leans his face into his hands.

“Yes!” You hiss, baring sharp teeth as you lean forward. “You never fucking take me seriously! Stop telling me to be like Kenma! He’s lazy and an asshole!” You spit his name, fury burning brighter as your boss treats you like a child that needs to be scolded. A low rumble starts up in the back of his throat.

A knock on the door interrupts your one sided argument. Whoever it is doesn’t wait for a response before they’re waltzing inside.

“Sure, yeah just come in,” your boss mutters sarcastically, position unchanged. A prickle runs down your spine and you stiffen in your seat when a familiar spicy cinnamon scent floods your nose.

“I’m hurt,” Kenma says in a flat, if not slightly amused tone of voice. “I’m not an asshole.” He doesn’t even attempt to defend himself against the accusation that he’s lazy and your blood boils.

Your boss perks up immediately when he recognizes the voice and your razor like teeth grind into dust from the force of your clenched jaw. Of course he’d be happy the second his precious lap dog shows his face.

“Kenma! What can I do for you?”

You snort in disbelief, crossing your arms over your chest and your boss shoots you a look of warning.

“I needed to speak with you about my next assignment.”

“Of course! Have a seat, we were just finishing up.”

The dismissal is obvious, but you make sure you glare with the force of a thousand suns at your boss as you rise to your feet. The demon cowers underneath the heat of it. You scoff, every muscle tensed as you whip around.

Kenma’s posture is loose and casual, the tiniest smirk directed at you as he shoves his hands in the pockets of his jacket. His attire suggests he hasn’t recently been out on assignment. Typical. You muster the iciest expression you’re capable of when you look at the incubus, tail flicking agitatedly as you stomp forward.

You refuse to speak to Kenma, roughly shoulder checking him on your way to the door. Your boss calls out a reprimand at your back but you ignore him too and slam the door shut with enough strength to rattle the frame.

Fucking Kenma.

You’re going to give him a piece of your mind the next time you see that pathetic excuse for an incubus.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

Turns out, you don’t have to wait long to run into him again.

Generally, you avoid Kenma when you’re both residing at the tower, not keen on running into him, but tonight you’ve gotten unlucky enough to spot him at a bar.

You’d gone topside for the evening, desperately in need of a night to yourself. You’re eager to blow off steam, since your boss’s head is shoved so far up your ass that he can see out your mouth. You search for someone, boy, girl, and anyone in between, to take home and drain dry of their sexual energy.

The bar you wandered into is on the popular side of town. The music doesn’t hurt your ears, and you’ve managed to dance with a few girls here and a few guys there, but none of them get your blood pumping.

You sigh through your nose, shoulders drooping, and decide it’s the best time for a break and head for the bar. Despite what may swirl around the rumor mill, you can get a buzz if you drink enough. You’re pleasantly loose limbed and relaxed when suddenly you freeze, a shock jolting you when you notice the absolute last person you want to see nursing a beer at the bar.

Your body flushes hot within the second, the human disguise you’ve conjured threatening to shimmer and disappear. Your control wavers, tail itching to break free. You steady yourself with a breath, nails digging harshly into your palms to ground yourself. Another deep breath in, a long exhale out, and then your marching towards the incubus.

You come to a stop at the empty seat next to him. “What the fuck are you doing here?” You ask hotly.

Kenma barely spares you a glance. “The same as you, I suppose.” He takes another long sip of his beer, and you can smell the bitter scent, stomach rolling.

“Go the hell away, Kenma.”

He sets his drink down and raises a dark eyebrow. “You don’t own the bar, do you?”

“No,” you grind out, shoulders hiking to your ears. “I was here first.” It’s petty and childish, the urge to stomp your foot growing stronger by the second.

Kenma snorts. “Sure, but there’s enough room for both of us to play.”

His apathetic attitude infuriates you even further, and you raise your hand to point an angry finger at him. Your mouth opens to curse him to hell but he beats you to the punch.

“Can I buy you a drink?” He shifts his head to stare at you, cat like eyes unwavering. His offer is so out of left field that your jaw snaps shut, lips pursing and mouth opening once more as you try to form a response. Your hand drops lamely to your side and you shift from foot to foot.

“You, wait — a drink? What?”

“A drink,” he says slowly as if talking to a child, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Can I buy you one?”

You blink a few times in shock, too confused to be angry by the insulting tone.

“Why?” You drag out the word impatiently. “We hate each other.”

“You hate me. Not the other way around.”

Okay, what the fuck?

“You don’t hate me?” You ask in disbelief, eyeing him warily.

“Nope.” He pops the p and resumes drinking his beer. “So, do you want a drink or not? I can find someone else to offer it to, if you don’t want it.”

You stay silent a moment longer, unsure if he’s making fun of you or not. You wrack your brain to try remember a time he’s ever been outwardly rude to you, like you’ve done to him. There’s an anchor of dread in your stomach when you come up short.

Wordlessly, you slide into the stool next him and order a cocktail, chin raised high. You blame your previous drinking tonight on the way you reluctantly let your guard drop, momentarily allowing your anger to fade. You drink silently for a while, awkward on all accounts until Kenma randomly brings up something about your boss that reignites your rage.

“Yeah well, our boss is a fucking idiot. He never trusts me enough to send me on high priority assignments. Only you,” you sneer, turning in your seat to face Kenma. He mirrors your position. “It must have been a mistake when I got sent on this last one. I finally got something worthwhile and I took it before boss ripped it away from me!”

Kenma stares at you unblinking, contemplating something. “Hmm, no, I recommended you.”

For the second time tonight Kenma has left you dumbfounded.

“What does that mean?”

Kenma shrugs. “Exactly what it sounds like.”

“You, of all people, talked me up to the boss? Why would you do that?” You ask incredulously.

“I thought we already established that the hatred between us is one sided.”

Your nostrils flare, shame blistering your cheeks. “Fucking hell you’re annoying. Do you have a crush on me or something?” You mutter, trying very hard to deflect the kindness he’s showing you.

Kenma snickers at your obvious embarrassment. “You do interest me, and you’re hot. It works out,” he says casually, tilting his head back and downing the rest of his fifth beer in one long drink.

You hate yourself when your body buzzes white hot in response. You really hate yourself for letting your gaze linger on the bobbing of his throat as he swallows, the way the barest hint of his pale collarbones peak out of his shirt, teasing at what could be hidden underneath.

Kenma catches your interested stare, smirking and winking at you. You avert your gaze, face aflame and a rich, thick heat starting to pool in your belly.

“How the fuck are you the best incubus,” you complain, staring a hole into the bar top, weakly insulting your incubus counterpart. You startle when Kenma’s slender fingers grip your chin, gently guiding you to lock eyes with him. His eyelids lower a bit, a soft peachy blush blossoming on his cheeks as his tongue pokes out to wet his bottom lip.

Kenma pushes himself into your personal space like he has a right to be there, warm breath tickling your face when he speaks.

“Let me show you why I wear the crown.”

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

Razor sharp teeth sink into the muscle just below your collarbone, Kenma’s jaw locking solidly onto you while you curse and wiggle underneath him. The low warning rumble in his throat stills you.

Kenma’s hands rest on your hips, thumbs rubbing soothingly over the bone there. He unlocks his jaw and licks over the sluggishly bleeding wound. Then he shifts his attention to the other side. You whimper softly when he bites down, eyes fluttering shut and hands curling to fist the sheets below.

He’s pumping your bloodstream full of his saliva, knowing full well it’s going to heighten the pleasure of each sensation he’ll bring you. Your shoulders and collarbones are littered with marks, the pain lessening with each one. You tilt your head, Kenma trailing soft kisses up the side of your throat and over your jawline, coaxing a sweet moan out of you.

“Okay?” He murmurs, leaning back to sit on his calves, sliding a warm hand up your inner thigh. His fingers tickle the sensitive crease that connects there and you shiver. You nod, head heavy in the best kind of way, lids halfway to shutting.

You hum and spread your legs wider so he can get closer. “M’feeling really good Kenma,” you say with a dopey smile and his expression turns fond. His fingers barely touch your clit and your breath hitches, long tail flicking out and curling in on itself where it rests beside you. Kenma’s own tails swishes leisurely behind him, a noise of approval building in the back of his throat.

Two slender fingers spread the lips of your slick pussy before they slip inside with no resistance, curling upwards and brushing the pads of them over your g-spot. Kenma kept his nails short so he wouldn’t hurt you. Your eyes roll back, spine arching, and your hands coming up to fist the pillow supporting your head.

“Kenma,” you gasp, rolling your hips to match the lazy push and draw back of his fingers, coaxing your orgasm to the surface with ease.

“I know baby, your pretty little head’s filled with cotton, isn’t it?” He coos, bringing the thumb of his free hand down to circle your clit. “Fuck, look at you. You tighten up so sweetly around my fingers.” Kenma’s tail makes its presence known, snaking around your thigh and squeezing. The incubus leans forward then, sucking your nipple between his lips.

His teeth tug gently and the force of your orgasm takes you by surprise, stealing your breath and forcing out a cry of his name. Kenma doesn’t let go, flicking your nipple with his tongue until you start to come back down to earth. Kenma frees you with a pop, taking his hand from your clit and curling it around your throat.

He erases the space between you, lips a hairs width away from meeting, hand flexing against the sides of your throat and fingers kissing your g-spot again.

“Give me another one pretty thing,” he murmurs, low voice husky to your ears.

Kenma’s able to pull two more out of you before he’s satisfied. It’s a blur as he clutches at the backs of your knees, one hand sticky and heated, before he pushes until your kneecaps are touching the sheets near your arms. Your thoughts grow fuzzier as Kenma rises to his knees, balancing his weight so he can steady the head of his cock against you.

He stretches you out with one sharp thrust.

The angle slams the tip of cock into where it feels the best, ripping a wail from your chest as you cling to his forearms. He draws his hips back halfway, snapping them forward and filling you out, using his weight to his advantage and pounding you into the mattress.

“Kenma! Fuck! Oh my god, please!” You wail, unsure what you’re begging him for, sharp nails piercing his forearms. Kenma hisses, but otherwise doesn’t react to the pain. He hums distractedly, focusing on making your brain melt out your ears.

Kenma fucks you through one orgasm and straight into another, the muscles in your lower belly taut as a bow while your pussy clings to him. The hot, slick friction his cock creates causes your focus to deteriorate quickly. All the blood in your body pools in your cheeks, head pounding in time with your heartbeat as the pleasure continues to swell until you can’t handle it anymore.

A sharp smacking sound rings out when your hand makes contact with his toned stomach, pushing at the flexing muscles and begging him to give you a break.

“No more, huh? What, is your poor pussy to sore?” He teases, huffing steadily and slowing the roll of his hips. “Who’s the lazy one now?” Kenma pulls out suddenly, manhandling you onto your stomach, lifting your ass into the air and shoving your face in the sheets.

“Kenma, I can’t,” you plead, pussy raw and aching. You clench up when a finger circles your rim, whining loudly as your toes curl.

“How about I fuck your ass then, pillow princess. I bet you’re so tight,” he muses, smoothly dipping the tip of his finger inside you and pulling it back out. With a body made for sex, you don’t need much prep.

“Just, fuck, just be gentle, please.”

Kenma laughs, finger disappearing completely. “Nah, I told you I was going to show you why I’m the king. You know what to say if you want this to end.”

With that, the slick, blunt tip of his cock slides over your rim, catching and allowing Kenma to press forward until he bottoms out. The stretch punches the wind from your lungs, heat searing up your spine.

Your claws rip the sheets, hissing when Kenma grips the base of your tail tightly, using it to pull you back into each steady push of his hips. You’re so full, but so empty, pussy clenching uselessly around nothing. Kenma’s hips continue to bounce off your ass, rim tightening and stretching with each glide of his cock.

Your nerves are frayed, every touch overwhelming. A thousand tiny needles are embedded in Kenma’s palm when he strikes your ass, the searing heat sending a throb of heat through your pelvis. A looming pressure builds behind your bellybutton, pushing on your bladder and your rim starts to flutter.

“Kenma,” you choke out, grasping at the sheets to anchor yourself and help you rock backwards to meet his thrusts.

“What is it baby?” His voice is strained, fingers tightening around your tail. His other hand rests on your tailbone, guiding your movements.

“You’re gonna make me cum!” you warn through your teeth.

“Then fucking do it.”

Your heart jumps to your throat as the tension snaps, heat flooding your veins. Your tail coils unyielding around Kenma’s wrist. Small, choked off whimpers spilling from your lips.

Kenma’s pace turns jerky, thrusting twice more before he swiftly pulls out. His broken moan fills the air you, something warm covering your ass and lower back. He whimpers your name, breathing hard as you collapse onto your belly. You can’t think straight, body pushed to the limit.

You barely register a scratchy material wiping you clean, or being rolled onto your back. Kenma playfully pokes you in the ribs and you groan, batting his hand away and cracking your eyes open. He laughs, his knowing smile softening his sharp features.

“I didn’t take you as the type to stay the night after sex,” he teases, settling down next to you.

“Yeah well, I can’t use my legs, so I’m staying.”

Kenma exhales sharply through his nose. “Then you have to admit that I’m the best.” Kenma bodily shifts you onto your side, arm snaking around your waist and tugging you to his chest. His skin is sticky and sweaty, pulse still thundering against his sternum.

You blindly search for his soft blanket, pulling it up over you both and snuggle further into the furnace of his embrace.

“I think I’m going to need a few more demonstrations before I admit to anything.” Kenma’s rhythmic breathing is lulling you to sleep.

Kenma sleepily agrees, and in the middle of the night, he wakes you up to prove himself again. You let him show you over and over until you’re both addicted to one another.

Only then do you admit he’s the best. Reluctantly.

[seat-safety-switch]

Although the Pizza Hut brand still occupies parts of this world, it no longer stands for what it once did. You'll be hard-pressed to locate a sundae bar, glittery sticker dispenser, or red cups made of translucent acrylic – of which I can assure you were once "bottomless." The only thing left are the disaffected, stoned teenagers taking the orders. That, and the Personal Pan Pizza: more than any other, a symbol of North American culture.

In Italy, where hard-working chefs stole the idea for the pizza from visiting space aliens, they decided that a pizza should be shared. Sure, they are often capable of being eaten solo, and the owner of the restaurant would be extremely pleased if each member of your party slammed their own pizza down before ordering a flotilla of liquor, but the way they are enjoyed best is to give a couple slices to your friend. This means you have to compromise on toppings, of course, which is a concept alien to those of us raised on lifted Powerstrokes and fuzzy VHS tapes of air show disasters.

Not so with the Personal Pan Pizza – you get what you want, and to Hell with everyone else in the dining establishment. As well, Pizza Hut gets to charge a little extra margin on each pizza, their shareholders laughing all the way to the bank. You're happy, they're happy. Maybe the guy (your stepdad?) paying the bill at the end of the night isn't happy, but he can get a Personal of his very own.

Nowadays, this humble concept of individuality is becoming abandoned in favour of collectivism. No, don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those radical psychopaths who films TikTok videos about overthrowing the government from the front seat of his pickup truck. Pretty sure all those dudes got blown up by drones a couple weeks ago, and replaced by exact body duplicates grown in a lab. What I care about is being able to get a good paint colour on a new car.

Nowadays, everyone worries about resale value. Back then, nobody freaked out about choosing the optimal toppings to keep their lease payments low on their pizza; that would have been an insane thing to say. The pizza was for their enjoyment, and it was meant to be used up. Maybe the crusts got left behind and stolen by a rat. That rat is me. What I'm trying to say is: please order your new hybrid Lexus in bright green, so that I can drive it in thirty years. Don't be so selfish.

[antsday]

under your thumb

[part two of this. inspired by @habken 's incredible scammers to lovers au. hope you enjoy!]

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I need him dead,” Izuku says, pacing intently. His bright red shoes squeak with every step he takes, and his eyes are wide with mania. “I genuinely need him dead.”

La Brava takes a long slurp of her soda fountain abomination - two pumps of every flavor of every soda, in one supersize cup - and gives him a knowing, pitying look. “Dynamight causing trouble again?”

He buries his face into his hands and makes a noise like a wounded animal. 

“Did he finally explode his laptop beyond repair or something?” La Brava asks. “Talk to me.”

“He asked me out on a date,” Izuku grits out, and La Brava’s eyes go wide. “A date. Lunch at a crepe shop? There’s no other way to take that.”

It wasn’t ever supposed to go this far. At first, loading Pro Hero Dynamight’s laptop with viruses was just a way to get back at him for being an asshole. But then he just- kept clicking them. And then he kept coming by, and revealing that he wasn’t so bad to talk to and then-

Izuku’s been played like a damn fiddle. All this time, he thought he was the one pulling the strings- only for Dynamight to sweep the rug out from under him in the most sudden possible way.

“Huh,” she says.  “Huh.”

And then, after a long pause:

“...Well. IT guys are in really high demand nowadays,” she says, stirring her drink with her straw. “With the economy, and all.” 

“This can’t happen. He’s a Pro-Hero,” Izuku stresses, grinding his teeth to stubs. “A Pro Hero who can’t go a week without getting scammed, but a Pro Hero nonetheless. This can’t happen. It can’t.”

“He’s a public servant, Deku, not a nun.” 

Izuku points at her. “Exactly! He’s a public servant. He has a duty to the people first and foremost, and I can’t get in the way of that.” Izuku says, placing a hand on his chest with feeling. A beat passes, and then, “Also, he is so fucking weird.” 

“And there it is.”

“Who gets scammed that much? It just makes no logical sense. You’d think after clicking an obvious pop-up the first time and getting your whole laptop overrun with malware you’d just- stop doing it at some point! But no! It’s like he’s a- a little kid with a big red button in front of him. He’s ridiculous. And-and an asshole, too!”

La Brava sighs, setting down her comically large drink. “Okay, Deku-kun-”

“Yeah! He’s a huge jerk. He’s mean to everyone and he acts like- like he’s doing me a favor by making me fix his laptop all the time! You know what, he deserves all that malware, especially if he’s so obsessed with clicking pop-ups!”

“Deku-kun.”

“He’s insane. A total freak show!”

“Deku-kun.”

“A-A self-absorbed, arrogant-”

“So you don’t want to go on a date with him?” La Brava interrupts, cutting him off. 

Izuku pauses, ceasing his pacing. 

He thinks about Dynamight’s evil looking smiles and fiery red eyes and sharp features; his insane stances and posture and the way his voice sounds like gravel; the way he’s always yelling and acting like a stereotypical macho-man Pro in his office, and yet whenever he steps into Izuku’s he’s always looking away and speaking quieter and holding out his virus-infected laptop like it’s the bento lunch Kiyoko-chan (from the new slice-of-life romance anime Izuku’s been binge-watching recently) made for her love interest in last week’s episode. That one time Izuku had said he was thirsty in Dynamight’s presence and found a water bottle on his desk the next day (and the day after that, and the day after that, and the day after that-). It's the way that no matter what happens- whether it’s a villain attack or a patrol or rescuing a kitten from a tree, Dynamite comes out on top. 

(Quite literally, in the case of the kitten. The fire department had to come down to Tatooin Station and rescue Pro-Hero Dynamight and a three-pound kitten from a 40-foot tall oak.)

God, there’s so much wrong with him, Izuku thinks. I need to hold his hand or I’ll die.

Izuku’s cheeks heat up and he scratches the back of his neck, very pointedly not looking at La Brava. “...Well. I never said that.”

“Oh my God,” La Brava says. “Oh my God.” 

“Sue me, okay!” Izuku throws up his hands. “Apparently I like deranged goblin men who are a little pathetic and rough around the edges and incapable of not getting scammed! Is that so wrong!”

La Brava stares. And stares. And then she sighs. 

“It- You know what, this is above my paygrade,” she says, taking another long, obnoxious sip of her drink. “I’m not here to critique your frankly abysmal taste in men. So you do want to go on this date?”

He thinks about it more, and starts getting light-headed at the thought of- of Dynamight, buying him a crepe. Sharing a crepe with him. At the crepe shop. Tomorrow, when they’re both free. Maybe they’d even- hold hands, and- ride the ferris wheel in the amusement park across the street- together-

“Hnnnrrrgh,” says Izuku. 

“Well, good luck,” says La Brava, tossing her empty cup. It soars through the air in a perfect arch and lands into the trash with little fanfare. She pumps her fists, and Izuku absentmindedly claps a little. 

 It’s pretty simple removing the malware- he was the one who put it there, after all. Soon enough, Dynamight’s laptop is good as new. And then, after another couple of moments of hesitation, he sneaks in another pop-up. A poor recolor of Naruto, this time, in suggestive kitsune-themed lingerie. 

“You’re literally going on a date with him,” La Brava says, suddenly popping up behind him. ‘You don’t have to keep doing this.”

“Consider it, uh,” Izuku racks his brain, “leverage! Yeah. If he’s. If he’s an asshole.”

She throws her hands up in exasperation and turns back to setting up a pastel pink Project Sekai theme for Phantom Thief's computer (upon his request). 

He’s not being weird, Izuku reassures himself. He’s not. Dynamight doesn’t have to click the pop-up. He’s not, like, obligated, or anything. But if he does, like he has been doing, well. That’s one way to secure a second date. 

Well. Not that he’s hoping for a second date with Dynamight, or anything. He’s not anxiously counting down the seconds or whatever. That’d be insane. Right? Right. Totally insane. And Izuku is not insane, so therefore he is not incredibly and unhealthily invested in this-

“Stop muttering about this or I swear to God-”

-

So now he’s here. Standing in front of the crepe shop in his nicest clothes (a white ‘Dress Shirt’ shirt, a half-buttoned striped orange button up, and brown corduroy pants with a black belt), blasting music to distract himself from the fact that he may have been stood up. 

Okay, fine, that’s a bit of an exaggeration. He probably hasn’t been stood up. Sure, it’s been three minutes and fifty four seconds since their agreed upon time, and there’s still no sign of Dynamight anywhere, but that probably doesn’t mean anything. He’s probably just running late. 

He has to be running late. What is he going to do if he actually is being stood up right now? 

Kill him? 

Kill Pro Hero Dynamight?

No, Izuku realizes, deflating a little. No, he’d never be able to go through with it. Maybe more malware? Maybe every piece of malware at once?

For once, the Go Get Your Man, Kiyoko-chan! theme song isn’t taking his mind off things- a clear sign of his deteriorating mental state. There’s a part right before the final chorus in which they let a cat just meow into the mic for a solid thirty seconds and it always reminds Izuku that good exists in the world- except for today, apparently. 

After a few moments of hesitation, he goes to his messages. They have each other’s numbers, strictly for business, but occasionally Dynamight will text him hey in the middle of the night and then take three hours to respond to Izuku. 

Where are you?, he types up. But before he can press send, his phone beeps.

Izuku frowns.

“A villain attack nearby?” His hair blows slightly in a sudden breeze. “Huh. I hope it’s not too close.”

He has about two seconds of peace between uttering this final, ironic sentence, and then turning his head-

-because one minute he’s pausing the theme song on his phone, and the next he’s face to face with a giant, menacing pincer that's seconds away from peeling off his entire face.

His life really is just one prolonged punchline, huh.

So there he stands, tears in his eyes, fear in his heart, and the thirty second meowing solo ringing in his ears; dressed his nicest 'Dress Shirt' shirt, holding an expensive laptop that he can never again infect with malware because he’s been stood up and he’s going to die. Brava was right, Izuku thinks belatedly. Maybe I should re-evaluate my taste in men.

And then everything explodes.

part one/part two

[3verythingiknowaboutlove]

sophrosyne

how liaison intern!reader and spencer grapple with a recent case that's taken an individual toll on them

angst! eeek! word count: 1277 warnings & tags & stuff: lowkey sad, reader cries a little, mentions of schizophrenia (in an unsub), and correlations to spencer/diana are hinted at, it’s mentioned that that unsub gets shot, like the beginnings of a crush showing but otherwise no fluff, just gentle spence as always, social commentary & my personal thoughts on our justice system definitely peek through. very first attempt at some bigger sad scary feelings authors note: hi!!! im alive!!! and guess what!! its my birthday!! i'm 20 which is totally insane. anyway i missed you all and i HAVE been writing, just not posting. it just got like too much when it registered that THAT many people are reading my stuff, yk? i do appreciate all the love SO MUCH but its still a little scary. anyway. i hope you enjoy, i think this is an interesting one? not sure. i fear my intentions for it may have gotten lost in the writing so please let me know if it doesn't make any sense. okay have a superb day ily!!!

Spencer is spinning and he won’t stop and it’s hypnotic.

There’s a little squeak coming from the chair with each turn that sends goosebumps down your legs, filling the otherwise silent bullpen with noise.

You imagine it must be a little sickening, or at least uncomfortable, spinning in a chair for such a long amount of time. You're honestly a little concerned. His legs are crossed like a child’s.

The look on his face—one that you can't quite make out right now due to his motions—has been the same for the better part of the afternoon. That was concerning. It’s so contemplative and stoic. Like an old Greek statue, Odysseus? you think, carved from marble, weathered to the point of near crumbling.

But this case, this case, the one you got back from exactly four hours and twenty two minutes ago, wasn’t anything too bad, was it?

You blink at that thought, taken aback with yourself, the empathy hitting you like a wave. Of course it was bad. They’re all bad. People are dead. All those families are broken in ways that won’t ever heal.

Your second month as an intern under Agent Jareau, working to become a liaison just like her, proved to be almost everything that one grouchy ex-FBI-Agent-turned-guidance-counselor at your university said it would be. 

Harsh. Sad. Cold. It will strip you of your sensitivity. Your gentleness.

But this case. It had a sharper edge to it than the rest, slicing the littlest bit deeper into your skin. A lingering heaviness weighed on your chest. Were you the only one who felt it? Clearly not, if this guy spinning in his chair was any indication. 

Most of the bullpen had cleared out, leaving only the mess of the team’s half-finished mugs behind in the sink. You had stayed though, needing to shake this weight off before you brought it home with you. The last file of the day is spread out on your desk, but you’re far from it, standing across the room by the coffee machine. Hiding. 

You pour two cups, unable to stop the methodical replay of the case in your mind. Not just the brutal MO, but the bigger picture. The circumstances. The diagnosis. The history.

Agent Jareau had made it your responsibility to take care of all the family-related files.

Male, aged 30, diagnosed with acute schizophrenia at age 22. Stabbed 6 women in the throat.

Family history of disorder? (Check one) : Y ☐ N ☐

The unsub, his father, his aunt, and his grandfather. They all had the same last name, bump on their nose, gap between their teeth, and identical diagnoses of schizophrenia. A twisted family tree. The branches, the unsub’s fate.

You turn toward the spinning blur of the chair, unsure if Spencer even knows you're there.

… 

Ceramic scrapes against wood. Still warm, it leaves a condensation trail in its path. “I added a bunch of sugar,” you offer quietly, unsure if he’ll even acknowledge it. 

Spencer slows. He doesn't reach for the mug like you’d hoped, but he stops spinning. Small victories.

He stares down at the file in front of him, and for a second you wonder if your interruption made things worse. That little groove between his eyebrows- today, there more often than not- shows up, a problem trying to become untangled in his mind. 

You really should go. Leave him alone, Spencer clearly has his own things to sort out. But your legs are tethered to the ground. Maybe it's due to the fact that he just got a new haircut, and it’s nice. Really nice. Or maybe it’s because you, too, feel like getting lost in your own head right now. 

You swallow. “You okay?” you ask, before you can help yourself, and you regret it instantly. It sounds too personal, too sudden, too much, like teeth clashing during a kiss. You're intruding on something that Spencer isn’t prepared to share, something unfinished.

His eyes finally land on you for a split second, and he gives you a nod, shallow and unconvincing. You know better than to push for the truth.

You lean on the edge of his desk, keeping your distance but not leaving. You stare into the swirls of your coffee, fingers drumming on the side of your mug. This moment is fragile, you know, and yet you’re unable to stop yourself from talking. A chronic weakness, on your part. “I don’t think this case was…” you pause, searching for the right words. “It wasn’t like the others, was it?” 

Spencer looks at you again, for a beat longer than you expect. The tension in his face softens, just a little. You see it too.

“No,” he says finally, voice low. “It wasn’t.” 

There's something in the way he looks at you that makes your heart pound. There’s a sense of openness to it. He’s not exactly confiding in you, not yet. But he’s also not completely shutting you out, either.

Strange. The total opposite of what you’d expect. You keep talking.

"Everything he did was just a clear demonstration of his schizophrenia, which is genetic and so prevalent in his family. I just keep feeling like… like it wasn’t his fault. Like it was predetermined. And he died for it,” you ramble quietly. “Morgan shot him.” Your voice breaks.

He stills, not saying anything for a beat.

“He wasn’t given much of a fighting chance, was he?” Spencer asks quietly, almost to himself. Like the question was a familiar one. His eyes drift over the file, the unsub’s family members listed front and center. There's something sad in his gaze. Resigned. Like he’s thought about this before.

You shake your head.

“I think,” Spencer starts softly, staring at a point on the floor, voice barely above a whisper. “You're the only one here who sees it. The way we villainize them.” The words sting in a way you didn’t expect.

Silence rings between you two. It’s thick, and nothing but sad. The weight of the case, of the pain, of the impossibility of it all hangs in the air like a dark cloud.

You dip your head, a sudden tear slipping down your cheek and falling into the fabric of your brand new dress pants. Your hands hold the edge of the table behind you and you inhale shakily. 

“I don’t know if I’m cut out for this job,” you whisper after a long while, the words delicate.

Silence hangs between you two again. Then, his voice, thoughtful and deliberate and caring, breaks it up. 

“I don’t think it’s about being cut out for it. It’s not about being tough. It’s about being able to hold that much emotion without letting it break you, because you recognize the alternative of not doing the job would be worse. And it’s hard. It’s so… hard. But you’re doing that. You're doing really well.”

You blink, surprised by the calmness in Spencer’s words. The logic is almost comforting in and of itself, in a way.

“Not everyone can hold that much empathy,” Spencer continues, his voice low. “We need more of that, the team does.”

Your throat tightens. 

“I'm sorry,” you say, your voice small. “I didn't mean to put this all on you.” Spencer shakes his head, not minding. 

“You should go home and get some sleep. Maybe it’ll be a little better in the morning. It usually is.” 

You nod, but you don’t move right away. You feel like the moment you leave, you’ll slip from this edge you’ve been teetering on.

“You go,” you eventually say, quiet. “I’m gonna wash all those mugs people left in the sink.”

[the-s1lly-corner]

Reader baking Lucifer apple cookies

Not a request but I got the idea from last posts gif so !! Yeah!!

Gonna make a red velvet cake tonight, or at least bake it!! Woo!!

Oh my god he would go absolutely insane do you know what you've just done?

It's like when old facebook moms see a minions post, hes going to go bonkers over it

Bonus if they actually taste like apples ... but if not hes still going to love them

I enjoy the idea that Lucifer does some baking here and there, usually pies or something in that vein.. he never dared try slice and bake cookies

Does not forget to let you know how well they turned out, even if they look a little wonky or off hes still going to be very impressed

They do not last long

Imagine you make them for him when hes going through a bad depressive slump to try to make him feel better... you might just see his eyes water before he composes himself

If this happens before him and Charlie reconcile hes going to bring a basket of them to give to his daughter

[sergeantxrogers]

in the red dark

His eyes trapped yours in their vice-like grip as he stared up at you, fingers brushing against the hem of your jeans, and you swallowed heavily. You felt the rush of alcohol in your head fizzle out into smoke and embers as you sobered up quicker than you ever have in your life.

"Are you sure?"

You swallowed again. Nodded.

There was a small twitch in his eyebrows, and he narrowed his gaze. "It'll hurt."

Despite your heartbeat drowning out all sounds around you, despite the cold sweat on the back of your neck, despite the knowledge that you'll probably regret this - whatever this actually was - in the morning, you smiled.

"Then I guess I'll just have to hold your hand."

Pairing: Tattoo artist!Bucky Barnes x reader

Word count: 5.8k

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, reader is drunk (i apologise if that's not your thing), swearing, perhaps some sexual tension, mentions of pain, needles, tattoos, lots of love-at-first-prick energy, mentions of smoking/cigarettes

Author's note: You guys it's literally embarrassing how badly i've fallen off... LMAO i missed writing sooo so much but life has really got me by the balls these past few months. I hope y'all enjoy this and let me know if you'd be interested in a part two. Love u <3

__________

Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum.

You didn't know if it was your heartbeat pulsing in your head, or the heavy beat of the music washing over your senses and travelling through your veins. You couldn't tell, but you truly didn't really care. Right now, your hazy, gin-and-tonic drunken eyes focused only on Wanda, her red hair reflecting the neon club lights, your gaze zeroing in on her lips mouthing the words to a song you couldn't even hear at this point.

You saw her smile, and, as if in reply, your lips tugged into a grin of their own. A wave of heat rolled over you as you danced with Natasha, and you brought up your hand that wasn't holding a glass of something that had begun to taste like water to fan yourself.

You felt, more than heard, Natasha yell into your ear, and you furrowed your brows, turning your eyes from Wanda to meet her gaze.

"What?" you yelled back, confusion marring your features. You saw Nat's shoulders rise and fall with the enormous sigh she took in, and you kept in your giggles.

She tugged on your arm, then pointed to the crowd behind you. More specifically, the exit that was on the other side of the club, blocked by hundreds of hot, sweaty, drunk bodies in their own little worlds - much like you were now. It clicked; you had been in the club drinking your asses off the past three hours, you were hot, your heels were killing you, and, quite frankly, you were running out of money for the night.

You nodded deeply and seriously, eyes screwed shut as Nat tugged Wanda's arm with one hand and yours with the other. Quickly, you downed the rest of the contents of your glass, leaving behind only a thin slice of lemon and a lipstick stain on the rim and snatched your bag off the table before the three of you decided to brave the large crowd that only seemed to grow bigger by the minute.

Holding hands and forming a sort of train, you made it through the suffocating crowd step by step, breath by breath, until, finally, you felt the cool late summer air caress your flushed face, the thumping bass of the club now seeming like a whole different dimension as the heavy door shut behind you with a click.

Wanda, perpetually happy, you've come to understand over the years, let out a raspy laugh.

"This place is fucking insane, guys! Holy shit!" she exclaimed, pointing a manicured finger at the door the three of you had just come through.

You hummed in agreement. "Yeah, why haven't we ever gone here before?"

Natasha, almost always the least drunk out of you three, let out a trademark sigh. She gave you a look you could only translate to 'seriously?'.

"What? I'm being for real," you frowned.

Nat rolled her eyes, then winced as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "I know you are, it's just that we've never come here before because this was opening night. You know, the whole reason we even came in the first place? Jesus Christ, you two need some water."

All it took was for you and Wanda to share a look before you both burst out laughing. You leaned on her arm for support as your giggles died down, and you let out a big, happy sigh.

"Come on, we'll never grab a cab here - there's way too many people. Let's walk a couple blocks down," Nat said, stepping between the two of you and throwing her arms around your shoulders. "Can't believe I always get babysitting duty."

You and Wanda smiled coyly, seeing the playfulness glimmering in Natasha's eyes, letting you know she wasn't actually upset.

The three of you started your trek, slightly stumbling but keeping in a straight line for the most part. You had only walked about 150 feet when Wanda let out a gasp. You and Natasha both turned your heads to see what she was pointing so happily at, and when you saw what had made her gasp, you cocked your head in amusement.

Red neon light flooded your hazy vision, one word flickering and buzzing above your head in the dark - tattoo.

"It says they're open 24/7. Isn't that weird? Do you guys think we should all get matching tattoos? What should we get? Wait, do you think we even have enough money to get matching tattoos?"

Disappointment flooded Wanda's rambling, and you opened your mouth to reply, but Nat beat you to it.

"Wanda, we are not getting matching tattoos, especially not while drunk."

Staring at the sign above you, the red neon washing over the world, the soft buzz of electricity coming from it drowned out Wanda's complaining and Natasha's replies. They became background noise as you let the waves of alcohol make the decision for you, surprising even yourself when the words came out of your mouth.

"I want one."

Your two friends stopped their bickering and both stared at you, Nat with an incredulous look on her face, and Wanda with something a little more akin to amusement.

"Really?" they said at the same time, their tones matching their faces.

You nodded. "Yeah. I mean, I feel like never do anything fun. Besides, what's the harm in it? It won't kill me," you said with a shrug.

Natasha's weary eyes gave you a once over, and she took a step toward you, putting a hand up to your forehead.

"Are you sure you don't have alcohol poisoning or something?"

You slapped her hand away with a roll of your eyes. "I'm fine, Nat, I just really wanna get a tattoo now. I already know what I want to get."

Even Wanda, whose idea it was in the first place, gave you a suspicious hum. "Nat's only asking because this really doesn't seem like you, Y/N."

The frustration bubbled in your chest before you could stop it, and you quickly shoved it down. They were right, after all - you were the type of person to never make any decision, big or small, without planning for it in advance and double, and then triple, checking you were absolutely certain. Everybody knew this, which was why your friends were doubtful.

Everyone knew this, yet no one knew how draining it was to always be on top of things. Nobody knew how exhausting to always plan everything out in advance to minimize the risk of anything going wrong as much as you could. School, college, dating, the things you ate, the places you went, the clothes you wore - everything was planned ahead, and, quite frankly, you were growing sick of it. Sick of yourself, almost.

With a huff, and a roll of your shoulders, you tugged your jeans up and lifted your chin. Then, without a word or warning, you turned on your high heel and pushed open the heavy glass door of the tattoo parlor, the bell over your head chiming softly as you walked through.

There's no going back now, a voice called in your head. You blocked it out. Good.

___________

Leg crossed over the other, you fidgeted with the rips in your jeans as you sat in the black, plastic chair in the front of the shop. After speaking to a girl who looked like she wanted to be anywhere else but at work, she told the three of you to have a seat and wait a couple minutes while they got everything set up. She popped her gum as she left, and only in the sudden silence, surrounded by dark walls and miscellaneous photographs adorning them, the nervous flutter in your stomach awoke, sending a cold sweat to your palms.

So, here you were, almost two in the morning sitting between your two best friends, mentally preparing yourself to get a tattoo you didn't even know you wanted a couple of hours ago. Yet, no matter how nervous you were, there was still a bigger part of you, a louder voice in your head encouraging you that this was exactly what you wanted and needed. The seconds ticking by on the clock above you only further reassured you.

A warm palm on your ankle startled you out of your thoughts, and you turned to see Nat, holding your gaze.

"Could you please stop jiggling your foot. You're making me nervous and I'm not even getting anything done."

You gave her a slight nod. "Yeah - yeah, sorry."

You hadn't even realized you were doing it, but it was a nervous tick of yours, a habit that you were never going to break. You turned your head to your other side, and Wanda's mischievous glint in her eyes made you shoot her a smile, growing your confidence by a little.

The soft chime of beads being separated made the three of you turn your focus to the doorway set in the left wall, the same unamused girl from before stepping through before gesturing for you to stand up.

"He's ready for you now."

"He? You're not gonna be the one tattooing me?" you asked nervously, your steps faltering slightly across the black-and-white tiled floor, and you hoped it wasn't too noticeable.

The girl shook her head. "Nope, I'm only here on an apprenticeship. I mainly just work the front desk and do other assistant-like bullshit for Barnes."

"Oh." You didn't know who Barnes was, but you could only assume he was the artist waiting for you behind the beaded curtain.

"Also, your girlfriends have to stay here. It's salon policy, sorry."

You turned back just in time to see Nat and Wanda lower themselves back in their seats, the three of you exchanging a look that showed you didn't believe she was sorry in the least.

"Okay. So, I just... walk through here?" you asked, pointing at the doorway.

The girl nodded, bored out of her mind already. "Yeah, there are two rooms. Go for the left one."

And that was apparently all you were getting out of her, because she turned around and walked away, taking a seat behind the large reception desk with a heavy sigh.

Taking one last look at your friends' reassuring smiles, Wanda sending you an enthusiastic thumbs up, you walked through the curtain with a deep breath. The beads drifted over your shoulders and thighs, then quietly fell back into place behind you as you stepped into the small dark hallway. Go for the left one, she said, so you did, forcing your feet to move forward, heels softly clicking against the tiles.

Oddly enough, the doorway on the left was bare, no door on the hinges and no beaded curtain hanging down, so you knocked on the frame and hesitantly stepped through. You were surprised to find the interior design completely different to the front of the salon - even the small hallway you left behind was dark and depressing, while this part of the shop had rich, shiny hardwood floors, a floor lamp standing in every corner washing the room in an orange hue.

You noticed the walls had less pictures than the ones in the front, but the ones that were hanging were big, framed, and beautiful.

"My buddy Steve painted those," a smooth voice called out, startling you, and you ripped your eyes from the paintings on the walls, not realizing how rude you were being just standing there without saying a word.

Your gaze quickly scanned the room until you found the source of the voice standing at the back of the room, leaning back against a table with his arms crossed over his chest. Whatever words you were planning on saying died in your throat as you took him in. Dark hair, cropped shorter on the sides. Blue eyes underneath heavy-set brows, the bridge of his nose leading down to pink lips that were currently morphing into an amused smile. The stubble on his cheeks and jaw moved as he clenched his teeth, and you weren't sure if it was the alcohol in your veins speaking its mind, but you were pretty certain this had to be the most gorgeous man you had ever laid eyes on.

"He - he's good," you managed to reply, and he lifted a brow.

"Your friend, I mean - seems like a great painter," you elaborated, gesturing weakly to the wall of canvases. He nodded in agreement, then pushed himself off the table he was leaning against, taking a few steps forward.

"You can lay down now if you want. It might be more comfortable than just standing there while we talk about what we're doing tonight," he said, nodding toward the black massage chair in the center of the room.

You nodded back, willing your ankles to keep steady in your now frustratingly high shoes, along with the gin still pulsing steadily in your head. You may have been even more nervous than you were now if it hadn't been for all the glasses you drank one after another earlier in the night. Right now, you were actually thankful you weren't completely sober for this, because you didn't know how else you would be able to handle the man's sea-blue stare that tracked your every movement as you lied down with such an intensity it made your cheeks burn.

Evidently, he must have noticed your jitters, because he pulled out a small leather stool on wheels and took a seat next to you. He softened his gaze and crossed his arms again. You couldn't help but noticed how peculiar they were - for no reason other than the fact that the short, tight sleeves allowed you to see they were completely bare, not one tattoo in sight on his perfect skin. Weird. Maybe he had tattoos in places you couldn't see, but before you could think too deeply on that and risk blushing again, you ripped your eyes back up to his.

"I'm Bucky," was all he said, voice now quieter and more laid-back, probably trying to help ease your nerves even more.

"I'm Y/N," you replied, then cleared your throat.

"I'm assuming this is your first ever tattoo?" he asked, and you winced a bit.

"It's that obvious?"

He - Bucky - gave you a small smile. "Kind of. But you also don't seem like the type of person to get a drunk tattoo at-" he checked the watch on his wrist "-1:52 a.m."

Check and mate. You gave a small shrug. "I guess people can be surprising."

He said nothing to that, only regarded you with a faint amusement in his narrowed eyes, before clearing his throat.

"And what did you have in mind? Kate up front told me you wanted a butterfly, but I need to know if you had something specific in mind?"

"Well, I was kind of hoping to leave the details up to you... I just know I want a butterfly, that's all.

"So, you're putting your trust in me completely, I see."

You felt your heartbeat trip over itself and you cleared your throat, nodding meakly.

"You know," he began as he stood and walked over to the table he was leaning on earlier, "butterflies symbolize transformation, and hope. Metamorphosis. Some also say they symbolize resurrection - triumph of soul over body."

Bucky spoke as he walked back, carrying a few papers and a box of gloves with him. He set the box down on the small table beside your chair, then handed you the papers.

"These are just a few sketches I did when Kate told me what you wanted, but I wasn't sure how big or small you wanted it to be, or where you wanted it to go, so there's a few options you could choose from."

You flipped through the pages, sketch after sketch filling your eyesight, and your breath stilled in your chest. These drawings were absolutely beautiful. Apparently, his buddy Steve wasn't the only one who was insanely talented. Your gaze snagged on one of the last sketches, a small monarch butterfly about the size of a silver dollar, gorgeous patterns covering its spread wings.

Bucky noticed you go still, and tilted his head.

"This one?" he asked. You simply nodded.

"Alright," he said softly. "Let me just prep the stencil and we'll be all set."

Focusing on keeping your breathing steady, in and out, you watched him get up and walk back towards the table. You took the time to admire the strong build of his back, shoulder blades visible under the tight material, triceps slightly flexing as he moved his arms, doing what ever he needed to do. The drinks in your system were doing little to help. In fact, they were just making it worse, sending flashes of heat flooding through your stomach and warming your body as you stared at him.

Sooner rather than later, he turned back around and you quickly tore your eyes away, not wanting to be caught staring, and instead focused your gaze on your painted toenails in your black heels. You clicked your shoes together a couple times, maybe out of nerves, maybe just for something to do, and Bucky sat back down on his stool.

"Alright, doll. Where's this bad boy going?"

You tried not to be so obvious with the way the name affected you, but the way it slipped off his tongue so easily, like it belonged there, had your hands sweating and breath quickening. You swallowed.

"M-my hip. I was thinking my hip."

Bucky cocked a dark brow. "Your hip."

The way he said it, not a question, but rather a statement, voice an octave lower than it was a moment ago, had you reminding yourself to keep breathing.

You nodded. His eyes flickered down to the aforementioned body part, then slowly made their way up, over your stomach and across your chest covered in a lacy top, across your neck, then finally met yours. This time, he was the one who swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing as he reciprocated your nod.

"Okay. Okay, that's good. That's a cool spot," he said, and then cleared his throat. "I'm, uh, I'm gonna need you to - to unbutton your jeans. So I can, you know, place the stencil and - and ink you, and stuff."

Your lips quirked up, finding it amusing how flustered he seemed to get now, instead of the other way around. A rush of confidence overtook you, whether it was from his stammered words, or the way his eyes had travelled your torso, or maybe it was simply your inebriation. It could have been all three. Whatever it was, it had you staring into his eyes as your hands found the button of your jeans, undoing it and pulling the zipper down, then pulling one side of them down, folding it over itself so your underwear was on display.

Bucky's eyes tracked the movements, darkening when he lifted them back up to yours, and his jaw visibly clenched. You let out a loose breath through your nose and bit your tongue.

The silence between you two felt stretched taught and thin, palpable and ready to shatter at any moment as you stared at each other. He cleared his throat again.

"Would you mind if I smoke?" he asked, voice rough and resigned. You shook your head.

Pulling out a pack of Marlboro Reds and a lighter from his pocket, you watched, slightly fascinated, as he pulled a cigarette out from the pack, brought it to his pink lips, struck the lighter and lit it, inhaling deeply. The smoke he blew from his mouth surrounded you, filling the air with a new, hazy tension. He kept eye contact as he threw his cigarettes and the lighter onto the small table, and pulled his stool closer.

He leaned down over your hip, then hesitated. Flicking his eyes up to yours, brows raised in question, you nodded.

Bucky's fingers softly, slowly, grabbed the hem of your underwear and pulled it down a couple of inches, and when his fingertips brushed the delicate skin there, you felt a rush of fire burst through you, starting from the place of contact and going straight to your head. You tried focusing on breathing evenly, but that was difficult to do as you watched him reach behind and pull two black, latex gloves from the box he had brought earlier, pulling them on while studying the small expanse of skin he had exposed.

Your head swam, vision going in and out as you watched him carefully place the stencil he had made against your skin, adjusting it with one hand, pulling your underwear and jeans down with the other so they would stay out of the way. The cigarette dangled from his plump lips, and he pulled it out of his mouth, let smoke leave through his nose as he turned and set it against an ash tray.

He nodded toward the stencil. "Is this placement okay?"

You glanced down, seeing the fine, purple outline of the butterfly you chose on your hipbone, and you nodded. You couldn't help the small smile that reached your lips - it looked amazing already.

"Alright, doll," Bucky said, then carefully peeled the paper back, leaving just the drawing and goosebumps on your skin.

He stared at it for a moment, then frowned.

"What's wrong?" you asked, immediately worried.

"Nothing's wrong, exactly, I just don't think I can ink you in this position. The angle is awkward and the skin isn't tight enough so it might not end up the way you want it to."

"Oh," you said, the frowned yourself. "Well, what would work better?"

He gave a short shrug. "It would be best if you were standing, honestly."

Your mouth parted, but no breath escaped, and you nodded slightly. "Yeah. Okay."

The words came out quiet and breathy, and you hoped he couldn't notice the slight tremble in your arms as you lifted yourself out of the chair and to your feet beside him. Your underwear and jeans rode back up as you did, and you frowned, wondering if you chose a place that was too impractical.

Bucky, either noticing your frown, or noticing where your attention was, rolled his stool closer to you. Looking up at you, his hands reached up with slow, deliberate movements, a question in his eyes. You bit your lip, nodding, and turned to face him completely, standing between his legs, thighs enclosing your own.

You held your breath as his fingers pulled the front of your jeans down, exposing both hips and the front of your panties, and he paused, holding your gaze. You gave him no sign to stop, so he reached for the hem of your underwear again, pulling it down even more this time, exposing not only your hip, but your upper pubic area as well.

His eyes flickered to the skin there, quickly, then back up to yours, and you watched his throat bob as he swallowed. The cigarette was burning out in the ash tray, long forgotten but filling the air with wisps of smoke and the smell of ash.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you couldn't help but feel like the way you were exposed in front of him, lips inches from a place you'd like him to be, the way he was staring into your eyes, pupils dilated and intoxicating - it may have all been just a touch unprofessional. You shooed the thought away when his gloved fingers traced the stenciled out butterfly, and goosebumps rose on your skin again, stomach clenching involuntarily at the touch.

His eyes trapped yours in their vice-like grip as he stared up at you, fingers brushing against the hem of your jeans, and you swallowed heavily. You felt the rush of alcohol in your head fizzle out into smoke and embers as you sobered up quicker than you ever have in your life.

"Are you sure?"

You swallowed again. Nodded.

There was a small twitch in his eyebrows, and he narrowed his gaze. "It'll hurt."

Despite your heartbeat drowning out all sounds around you, despite the cold sweat on the back of your neck, despite the knowledge that you'll probably regret this - whatever this actually was - in the morning, you smiled.

"Then I guess I'll just have to hold your hand."

Bucky gave you a sly smile, and shook his head, almost to himself, sucking in a deep breath before rolling back to grab the tattoo gun from the table. He moved the machine slightly closer so it had better reach, and you shifted on your feet nervously. At this point, you were more focused on the incoming pain than the pain already killing your heels and toes in your shoes.

"This is an area that usually doesn't hurt as much as others, but you'll still feel some discomfort," he told you as he fiddled with the machine and the gun, flicking it to life. The quiet buzzing filled the air, and you sucked in a sharp breath even though you nodded at his words.

He lifted his head to look at you, reaching a hand up to grab your other hip steady. "It'll feel like a buzz under your skin, or a slight stinging. If it gets too much for you, just squeeze my hand and I'll stop. I promise."

You made yourself look deep into his eyes and you noted the reassurance in them, so you let out the breath you didn't know you were holding and nodded, screwing your eyes shut.

His grip on you tightened, and it was a mild comfort as he pressed the needle into your skin, inking the first few drops into your hip. The pain wasn't excruciating, nor was it unbearable, but it was surprising, and like nothing you had ever felt before. You let out a soft gasp as he worked, trying to keep still so as not to disturb him, but you couldn't help your hand that shot out to grab his wrist - the one on your hip. He paused and turned his focus up to you, tender worry in his blue eyes.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?"

You clenched your jaw and nodded. "Just keep going, it's not that bad."

After a few more minutes, you seemed to get used to the stinging sensation, and now the area just felt numb. You had asked Bucky about it, but he smiled and reassured you that it was perfectly normal.

Your senses blurred together and you closed your eyes against all the stimulants - the smell of smoke still hanging in the air, the buzzing of the tattoo gun, the numbness in your hip, Bucky's firm hold on you and the strength of his wrist flexing beneath the palm of your hand.

You kept reminding yourself to breath, to focus on something else - anything other than the needle currently piercing your skin.

Bucky's fingers gave you a light squeeze, and you nearly trembled.

"Just a little more, doll, that's it. You're doing so good for me, you know that?" Bucky muttered softly, his breath warm against your bare skin, and you nodded even though he couldn't see.

"Just a few more seconds and we'll be all done, sweetheart, I promise."

"Okay," you whispered breathily and turned your gaze up towards the paneled ceiling.

"All done, doll," Bucky said, voice bringing your focus back to him. He switched the gun off and rolled back in his chair slightly to put it back where it belonged. He plucked a bottle of something off the table and grabbed a paper towel.

"This is just some antibacterial soap I'm gonna use to clean the ink residue off you, okay?"

It was all you could do to nod in response, and you watched him move as he cleaned the tattoo, then wiped it down carefully. You winced, and he frowned.

Bucky put the soap back and grabbed another similar-looking bottle.

"This is just lotion - it'll help soothe any lingering pain."

You stared in mute fascination as he spread the lotion across your hip, rubbing it in gently, then running his thumb across the fresh design. Your breath stuttered, and he tore his eyes away from the butterfly, clearing his throat. Once again, he turned back, putting the lotion in its place, then pulled out a box of large bandages from the lower part of the table, picking one up and peeling it open.

He pressed it softly against your tattoo, then made sure it was stuck on right, giving the area a soft stroke with his thumb again, and then he ripped his gloves off, throwing them in the trash beneath the table.

Bucky's attention finally, finally turned back to you, and he rolled himself into his initial position. His hands skimmed the sides of your thighs softly before they reached your panties, pulling them up and over the fresh tattoo. You held your breath when his knuckles brushed your lower stomach, and you could've sworn you heard him inhale sharply. A muscle in his jaw fluttered and he pulled your jeans back up too, zipping and buttoning them slowly.

He kept his stare straight, eyes on the button right in front of him, an you let out a slow, deep breath when his hands lowered from your hips, to the backs of your thighs, caressing them gently, even giving them a short squeeze.

"Did it hurt?" he asked, voice a raspy whisper.

You shook your head, eyes trained on him. "No."

He looked up then, and you felt your pulse pick up pace. You didn't know what to focus on - his eyes burning holes into yours, his hands gripping the backs of your thighs, or the fact that his face was inches away from your abdomen, breath heating it with every exhale.

"Good," he said simply. Quietly. "It'll heal in about two to three weeks, but you should avoid getting it wet and change the bandage as often as you can."

"M-maybe you could - give me your number," you stammered, and Bucky lifted his brows. "You know, so I can call if I notice something off, or - or if I need help with something."

He smiled, and this smile wasn't like any of the previous smiles. This one was a full-on grin, perfect teeth and dimples on display, making him look younger. You couldn't lie and say it wasn't one of the most beautiful sights you had ever seen.

"Okay," he said quietly. "I'll give you my number, but I want to be updated every day. It is your first tat, after all."

You grinned and nodded. "Alright. Deal."

"You're gonna walk out and pay Kate up front, and then I'll follow, as soon as I clean up here. 'Kay?"

You nodded.

"Good girl," he said, shooting a wave of heat through your body, and he gave your thighs a light slap before he rolled away.

The lack of his presence in your personal space felt jarring, like you had just been ripped away from the world and thrown into another, and you blinked the feeling away, sucking in a deep breath.

"Okay," you said, more to yourself than to him, and he smiled at you.

"Go. I promise I'll be out in a minute."

__________

Kate handed you your card back, and you were still trying to shake the shock of hearing the price off when the beaded curtain shuffled and Bucky came through in all his marvelous glory. Out here, in the open space of the front of the shop, he looked even taller, even wider, and you suppressed the urge to reach out a hand and touch him.

"Hey doll. Can't believe you didn't run away," he said with a half-smile, and you blew some air through your nose.

"Of course I didn't," you replied softly, then cleared your throat.

He held his hand out expectantly, and it took you a moment to realize what he was waiting for. "Oh! Right, sorry."

You tugged your phone out of your purse, unlocking it and handing it to him. You admired the way the screen lit up his face as his fingers flew across it, and before you knew it, he was handing the phone back to you with a smile.

He took a step forward, and you inhaled sharply.

"Remember, daily," he muttered, low enough only for you to hear, inches away from your face, and you could only nod.

"I promise," you whispered, and his smile grew.

Someone cleared their throat behind you, and that made you tear your eyes away from Bucky's. Nat and Wanda were both standing by the exit, hands on their hips, staring between you and Bucky expectantly.

"Right, we'll just be going now," you said, trying to hide the surprising disappointment in your voice as you gestured with your head to the door. "Thank you for everything. I love it."

Bucky slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans and gave you a genuine smile. "The pleasure was all mine, sweetheart."

You held his eyes even as Nat grabbed your arm and dragged you through the door, the bell chiming and tinkling above you, and Wanda called out a goodbye over her shoulder as the three of you left.

The cool night air enveloped you completely, and at this point, you were sober enough to feel a chill trickle through your bones. You shuddered.

"Jeez, what time is it, anyways," you mumbled, rubbing your arms to gather some warmth. You paused your movements when you noticed the looks on your friends' faces.

"What? What happened?"

Nat scoffed. "What happened? What happened with you? In there! With that beefcake of a man!"

Wanda chimed in excitedly. "The way he was looking at you? Phew, it was growing way too hot in there, to be honest."

You blushed, rolling your eyes, and began walking. "C'mon, guys, don't be childish-"

"Are you gonna go out with him?" Nat interrupted, linking an arm through yours.

"He hasn't asked me," you said blankly.

"Well, he definitely will," Wanda said with a matter-of-fact shrug. "I could see it in his eyes."

"Who would've thought - Y/N getting her groove on with the tattoo artist-"

"Ew, groove? Seriously, Natasha, who says things like that-"

"Stop trying to act like we're not totally right here."

You sighed and shook your head, but couldn't help the smile that rose to the surface. "Yeah, he is pretty hot."

The three of you burst into a fit of giggles as you walked, trying to find a taxi to hail before you froze your asses off.

"So... can we see the tat?"

[borathae]

↳ Index [Snippet #45 - Showerhead]

"When you and Jungkook get each other off with a showerhead."

Genre: married life!AU, Slice of Life Fluff, Smut

Warnings: the cozy small town vibes we all love TCT for <3, Kookie being a sexy tattoo artist, he's a tired bean as is OC, a cozy night in with burgers from Seokjin's diner, Bam being the cutest dog, the next warnings are for smut: this is kinda a quickie, there's no specific roles just a married couple having some sexy time to let off some steam, they had a lil bit of a stressful day and relax this way, shower sex, making out, naked grinding, some grinding on his thigh, they use the showerhead on each other to make each other cum, Jungkook being wet and hot, sexy communication, dirty talk, praise, size & strength kink, squirting, giggly aftercare, this is the kinda sex you can only have with someone you know well and love dearly, they're so in love you guys :(, *shrivels up* the domestic comfort *implodes*

Wordcount: 5.3k

a/n: my explanation for this? i love this universe, i love this couple, i love their bond. enjoy besties 🧡

“Hey there.”

Seokjin lifts his head from the receipts he was sorting through. His eyes light up instantly, an adoring smile curls his lips.

“___! Yooo, you’re here”, he hollers and leaves his place behind the counter with stretched open arms.

You fall into the hug, letting out a little giggle because you’re really happy to see him.

“I am. Today was stressful as fuck though”, you say.

“Yeah? Busy day at the restaurant?”

“One could say that, yeah”, you say and break the hug, “how was your day?”

“Stressful as well. I don’t know why people were so hungry today, but it’s only just calmed down.”

You scan your eyes over the familiar diner. Seven of the twenty three tables are occupied. You shake your head in comradery knowledge and look back at Seokjin.

“I think it’s the weather. People like eating out when it’s cloudy.”

“Yeah, I guess so. Speaking of food, I’ve got your burgers in the back”, he says and turns to leave.

“You’re a fucking saviour, you know?”

“Tell me once I’m back”, he calls out and disappears in the kitchen.

He reappears again after a few seconds, carrying a paper bag with your order.

“Here you go. Two deluxe beef burgers with extra bacon for Kook and lots of sauce for you.”

“And two servings of chilli cheese fries.”

“Of course, with extra cheese because it’s you.”

“Dude, I seriously love you. You saved our evening. I feel too tired to cook and I know Kook’s gonna wanna lie down the moment he’s home.”

“Where is he? Still at the studio?”

“Yeah, till eight. He’s got a full back tattoo to finish. He’s been at it since nine.”

“Geez, whoever is getting the tattoo is either insane or has lost all feeling in their nerves ‘cause a full back tattoo for elven hours is fucking mental.”

“Right? Dude, when Kook did the snake on my shoulder blade?” you turn your shoulder to him, pointing at it even if currently your biker jacket is keeping it hidden.

“Yeah?”

“I cursed at him multiple times. Not ‘cause I wanted to, but ‘cause it happened on instinct. It hurt like a fucking bitch.”

Seokjin laughs, “I know how you feel. My back tattoo experience still haunts me.”

“Didn’t you curse at him too?”

“I think I might have even threatened his life at one point.”

You and he laugh.

“Totally understandable”, you joke.

“Yeah, ah funny”, Seokjin says and walks behind the counter again.

“How much do I owe you?”

“Please, it’s on the house.”

“I hate it when you do that. How much do I owe you?”

“It’s fine, dude. Just bring me some of those parmesan rind balls you’re serving at the restaurant and we’re even.”

You roll your eyes and place the correct amount of money on the counter.

“Good thing I worked here for years”, you say and turn your back to Seokjin to strut off.

“I should change the prices, seriously”, Seokjin jokes as he looks at you, reaching for the money you left.

You snicker, turning in the doorway, “see you at Tae’s and Hobi’s on Saturday?”

“Of course. I’ve been looking forward to DnD night all week. Namjoon keeps talking about how much fun being DM is. He says this session will be unlike any before.”

“He always says that and then they never disappoint.”

“Seriously”, Seokjin agrees, “and Jimin was here this morning and said that Yoongi will bring apple pie.”

“Seriously? Oh my god, mhhm”, you groan, “I’m so excited, dude.”

“Me too”, Seokjin says and lifts his hand for a wave, “drive safely, ___.”

“Thank you. You too, Seokjin”, you say and turn to leave.

You store your dinner in the safety compartment on your bike and put your helmet on. You fix your gloves and then finally sit down on your bike to drive off. The smell of warm concrete tickles your nose as you cruise through the familiar streets. The diner soon disappears behind you and Hoseok’s garage appears to your right. You slow down to see if you can spot him. You can. He is working outside. He lifts his head at the sound of your bike and stands up, lifting his hand to wave at you. You wave back at him, slowing down your bike because luckily for you, the lights turned red. You open your visor.

“Yoongi brings apple pie on Saturday!” you call out loudly over the rumbling of your bike and also to bridge the distance.

“Dude, that’s fucking awesome!” Hoseok calls back, making a funnel with his hands to be louder, “driving home?”

“Yeah! I got burgers at Jin’s!”

“Nice! Enjoy them!”

“I will!”

The lights turn green again.

“See you Saturday!” you yell happily and close your visor to drive off.

Hoseok gives you a wave with both of his hands, swaying his hips from side to side to really get his excitement across. You laugh in fondness, giving him a wave until a turn to your left, naturally forces both your hands back onto the handles so you could take it safely.

The denser inner town soon disappears behind you as the road takes you along the coast. You pass Jimin’s and Yoongi’s house on tonight’s route. The lights in the street facing rooms are turned off, but you can spot the garden lights being on. You sound your horn as you pass them, knowing that they will know that it was you greeting them. Then you speed up, leaning into it. The road allows you to do so safely and there is nothing better than feeling the warm night air on your skin. Today is a good day. Even if it was stressful, the small moments of familiarity and good friendship were already enough to make it a good day.

Bam waits for you by the garage door, containing his excitement by sneezing repeatedly and tippy-tapping with his hind legs.

“Hello there Bamie, how was your day?” you greet him in a squeaky voice.

Bam huffs out air, shaking his head.

“That’s good to hear. I had a stressful day, but I got burgers”, you say and walk off to the kitchen. Bam follows next to you, sniffling at the bag, “it’s not for you, you greedy boy”, you laugh, moving it higher so he can’t reach it anymore, “don’t worry, mommy’s gonna feed you right away”, you say and open the fridge, “are you hungry, baby?”

You and Jungkook started a new diet with Bam after consulting with your trusty vet. It consists of raw, fresh meats, vegetables, fish and eggs presented in a bowl which makes him work for the food so he gets mental stimulation out of it as well. He even gets some berries and the most delicious unsalted bone broth to wash it down with. Truly, your little doggy son eats like royalty with you. You swear that ever since you started his diet, his fur glowed more and his poops smell better.

Bam waits by your feet with his tail wagging excitedly, looking up at you with big eyes.

“Almost done, baby. Wow, you can’t even imagine how stressful today was. I had to run around so much, my feet hurt”, you say and pick up the filled bowl to carry it to Bam’s feeding station.

The Doberman follows you and sits down in perfect position instantly. Just like you and Jungkook have trained him.

“Good boy”, you praise him, “turn.”

Bam follows.

“Sit.”

Bam follows.

“Good boy. Wait.”

Bam follows, watching you put his food bowl into the mount. You straighten up. Bam looks up at you.

“Wait.”

He doesn’t move.

“Wait.”

He doesn’t move.

“Release.”

Bam finally moves and jumps up to begin eating his food. You give him a little pet on his back.

“Good boy. There we go, enjoy your food.”

You give him his space afterwards, leaving the kitchen to change into comfortable clothes and wash your hands. You are in the hallways leading to the stairs when Jungkook comes home.

“Sweetie! I’m home!”

“Hellooo”, you coo, jogging down the stairs and meeting Jungkook at the end of them. You stay on the last step, hooking your arms behind his head to pull him into a kiss. He has to tilt his head up for it, wrapping his arms around your waist, “mwuah”, you end the kiss, giving him a happy scrunch of your face.

He retorts it, hugging you.

“How was your day?”  he asks you.

“Stressful, but not bad. Yours?”

“Exhausting. My back’s killing me and my neck’s already dead.”

You slide your hand to his neck to massage it gently.

“I can imagine. Did you finish it?”

“Yeah, the madman actually sat through the entire tattoo.”

“That’s actually crazy.”

“Yeah”, Jungkook chuckles and lifts his head, resting his chin against your chest. He grins as he talks, “did you get the burgers?”

“Of course I did. They’re waiting for us in the kitchen.”

“I’m so hungry already.”

“Me too”, you say and break the hug by getting down from the last step, “wanna watch The Witcher as we eat?”

“Yes, that sounds like a plan”, Jungkook says as he jogs up the stairs to change into comfortable clothes and wash his hands.

You have the burgers and fries prepared on your coffee table when Jungkook comes back. Bam is on the sofa next to you, resting his head on his front paws as he enjoys his post dinner nap. Jungkook wakes him as he gets on his knees in front of him and greets him with kisses all over his face.

“Hello Bamie”, he coos in a squeaky voice, “did you have a good day? Daddy had a really long day. Oh Bamie, my baby.”

The Doberman accepts his dad’s kisses with a wagging tail. It makes a dull sound of impact each time it slaps the couch cushions.

“Mwuah”, Jungkook finishes his kisses with a smooch to Bam’s forehead and then stands up. He picks up his burger and plops down on the couch so Bam was between you and him. He stretches his legs out and lets his head plop against the cushions. Then he sighs, “that’s luxury, seriously.”

“Yeah”, you agree, “ready?”

“Yeah.”

You press play on the show and for the next twenty minutes, you enjoy your dinner as the show was running. You pause it once you are finished with your food so you could carry the dirty plates to the kitchen and start the dishwasher. You return with some chocolate drops for dessert.

“Choco snack?” you offer Jungkook.

“Uuh, yes thank you”, Jungkook says and scoops a good handful out of the bowl. Bam left the spot between you and him by now so he could instead scratch at his favourite scratching mat. The sounds of his playing fill the background as you press play on the show again. You rest on the couch in a way which enables Jungkook to lie down between your legs. You put the snack bowl on his stomach and begin massaging his shoulders.

“Mhm yeah, that’s premium”, he says, wiggling happily, “thankies.”

“Tell me if I hurt you”, you say and then no other words are exchanged between you and him as you enjoy the show. You snack, you cuddle, you massage his shoulders and you react to good scenes in the show. It’s truly the perfect evening.

After the episode finished, you stay on the couch to chat about your days. You and Jungkook are facing each other. He is sitting on the sofa cross-legged as he massages your feet because you complained about them hurting.

“By the way, I just remembered”, you say during a moment of nice silence.

“Yeah?”

“Seokjin told me that Jimin was at the diner today and that he told him that Yoongi will bring apple pie on Saturday.”

“This just made my entire night. Yoongi’s apple pie is the best apple pie ever. Sorry baby, yours is amazing too, but I gotta be honest.”

You laugh, “no, I agree. There is no better apple pie than Yoongi’s. And Jinnie said that Joon can’t shut up about how good this session will be.”

“He always says that and then it’s never a lie.”

“I said the same thing.”

You and Jungkook share in little chuckles.

Bam appears by your side, stubbing Jungkook’s knee.

“I think he needs to shit”, he says.

“Yeah, I think so too. His eyes are glassy.”

“Do you need to poop, baby?” Jungkook coos at Bam. The dog huffs out air and leaves the living room for the front door, “okay yeah he does. I’ll take him for a walk, okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll stay here if you don’t mind. My feet are gonna shrivel up if I take another step today.”

Jungkook chuckles, “no worries. I need the movement either way”, he says and gets up. He kisses your forehead as he passes you, “it shouldn’t take too long.”

“Yeah, okay. If I’m not here when you return, I’m taking a shower.”

“Okay. See you later, sweetie.”

“See you, honey.”

Just like you told Jungkook, you are taking a shower when he returns. He knocks on the door.

“Come in!”

He enters the bathroom and locks the door behind him. He scans his eyes up and down your naked body, but doesn’t say anything raunchy about it.

“How was the walk?”

“Good. I feel human again”, Jungkook says and rolls his shoulders, “Bam’s in his crate already. He totally passed out after the walk. He did so much sniffing, I think it tired him out.”

“He’s so cute.”

“Yeah, he really is”, Jungkook sighs dreamily, "our son."

You chuckle fondly and guide the showerhead over your left arm, “do you wanna join me?”

“Uuh, yes I do”, he coos and begins undressing in little dance moves. It makes you laugh because he is such a dork. 

Now buttnaked, he grins cutely and steps into the shower. He leans in for a little kiss, but you attack him with water instead by turning the showerhead and covering his chest with it.

“Hey”, he laughs.

You snicker mischievously then begin guiding the showerhead over his body to wet him.

“Not cool. I wanted to kiss you”, he chuckles.

“Kisses come later. You’re sweaty.”

“Wow, so mean”, he laughs and turns his back to you so you can wet it as well.

You turn off the water afterwards, picking up his soap to squirt some into his hands.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome”, you say and switch out his soap for yours.

You and he soap yourselves up, going thoroughly to really make sure the day is washed off. You even soap up your cracks, feeling no shame in doing so. It was a little awkward in your beginning phase, because soaping up your intimate places is a very personal thing to do, but these days, you don’t think it’s embarrassing to do it in front of each other. In some weird way, it’s kind of nice to do it in front of each other. You are bonded for life and there are no other people you know as intimately as you know each other. Feeling comfortable in washing even the most personal places in front of each other just means that what you and he have is real and it’s home.

Jungkook takes on the job of washing the soap off your bodies. First you and then himself. He keeps the water running afterwards, guiding it over your body for now to warm you up.

“And now?” he asks.

“We could dry up and watch more Witcher or we could get a little sexy.”

“A little sexy?” Jungkook asks and glances at your tits, “like sexy sexy?”

“Yes, sexy sexy”, you snicker, nudging his chest, “doofus.”

“What? I gotta make sure, I don’t wanna be weird.”

“Cutie”, you say and take the showerhead from him to warm him for a change, “do you wanna be sexy sexy with me?”

“Yeah”, Jungkook nods his head, “yeah, I can be convinced.”

“You can?” you ask seductively.

“Mh-hm”, Jungkook hums and wiggles his brows.

You turn the water off and put the showerhead in its mount for now. You step closer to Jungkook and touch his chest.

“You can get your kisses now”, you tell him.

“Finally”, Jungkook says and grabs your butt with both his hands to pull your body close. He claims your lips in a kiss, purring happily.

“Mhhm”, you hum, burying your fingers in his hair as you get lost in his kisses.

You kiss, you touch, you grope and hug. You stumble, press each other against the tiles, giggle, kiss some more and turn each other on in the process. Most of your shared showers don’t end in sex, so tonight feels extra special. You felt like it. You had such a good day and Jungkook is such a cutie that you just wanted to at least shoot your shot. That Jungkook said yes was the sweetest cherry on top.

By now, Jungkook has you against the tiles with one knee between your legs so you can grind on it as you kiss. He is rolling his hips against you, finding sweet electricity on your stomach as his hard cock moves against it.

Jungkook breaks the kiss to nibble on your neck.

“I love it when you mark my thigh”, he rasps.

“I know”, you sigh. Your lips feel puffy and tender from kissing, “shit Kook, it feels so good.”

“Yeah, it does”, he agrees, squeezing your butt, “my goddess. Gotta love that ass.”

“You’re stupid”, you snicker and moan, “fuck, you feel good.”

“Mhm, yeah”, he sucks a spot of sensitivity to your neck, “so good.”

“Kiss me again”, you say and pull him into a kiss.

And so you do it again. You kiss, you touch, you grope and grind. You moan, sigh, shiver and pull each other closer. You stumble and move around, almost knock the soap bottles over and hit the showerhead hose with your elbow.

You break the kiss again. You are both out of breath and heated up. Jungkook looks at you with heavy eyes.

“Wanna do something fun?” you ask.

“More fun than this?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me.”

“Wanna get each other off with the showerhead?”

“Yes”, Jungkook furrows his brows, “fuck, your mind. You’ve got the sexiest ideas.”

“I know”, you snicker, “you first. I’ll make you cum”, you say and push him away from you gently.

“Okay”, Jungkook stumbles back, lifting his hands in defeat, “I’m not stopping you.”

You take the showerhead off its mount and turn the water on, checking the temperature with your hand. You lower it then turn it to Jungkook.

“Is that good for you?”

“Yeah, it’s nice.”

“Okay then, get ready.”

“I’m so ready”, Jungkook says and looks at his hard cock.

You place your palm on the upper side of his cockhead and use your thumb to hold it in place. You tilt it and guide the showerhead to his sensitive tip.

Jungkook gasps, taking a wobbly step closer while his cock throbs into the sensation.

“How’s that?” you ask him, lifting your eyes to meet his gaze. 

It is foggy in pleasure. His lids are lowered halfway.

“Good”, he whispers and parts his lips for a soft moan.

“You’re so pretty”, you speak quietly too. It feels right to do so.

“No, you are. Ah”, he furrows his brows, “there. Woah, ah”, and his eyes fall closed before his nose scrunches in pleasure. Another moan rolls off his tongue, his lips stay parted afterwards.

You look back at his cock. The water is hitting him right at his frenulum, reaching parts of his flushed tip as well. His thick vein is pulsating, moving his entire cock on your palm. His lower abs tense and tremble.

“Right there?” you ask, drawing circles.

“Yes, don’t stop. Keep, ah, please keep going.”

“Okay”, you say and try to keep the movements as they are right now. Slow circles with a minimal diameter so most of the water is focused on his sensitive frenulum. He says it’s where the pleasure goes especially deep. There and right on his tip. You don’t want to change the motion for the sake of finding out if his tip feels just as good however. Jungkook sounds so perfect right now. 

“This feels so good”, he moans, touching your shoulder just to run his hand down your arm. He lingers on your elbow, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“It does. It’s so hot, baby.”

“Yeah-ah”, he bites his lower lip and smiles the kind of smile he always does when the pleasure hits just right, “that’s wow, aha”, he laughs breathily and opens his eyes, looking down at his own cock. He follows the showerhead as you guide it over his cock, sliding his hand to the back of your neck.

“Fuck.”

“Good?” 

“Fuck, looking at it…” Jungkook closes his eyes and furrows his brows, “...yeah that’s gonna make me cum. Fuck….baby…”

“Can I try your tip? Just to see.” 

Jungkook nods his head. You guide the showerhead away from his frenulum to instead draw circles on his tip. His cock throbs. He lets out a soft gasp.

“Good?”

“Yeah”, he rasps and rolls his hips, “I liked the other spot more. Please.” 

“Mhm, that’s sexy”, you purr and guide the showerhead back to where you were before, “there?”

“Lower, ahnm it’s good just low- yes! Ah”, he moans loudly, throwing his head back, “there. That’s the fucking spot, holy shit.”

His cock pulsates and leaks. The water washes it away instantly, but the twitchy nature of his cock remains.

“You’re so sexy. Fuck, I’m going insane”, you rasp and feel tingles run all over your skin.

“Baby, you’re making me cum”, Jungkook gets out and squeaks in a moan, “a-ah”, he clears his throat, “sorry, voice cra-ah-ack. Ah fuck, ___ holy shit.” 

You snicker, “you’re cute”, you say and draw a little heart. And another one. And one more for good measures, “and sensitive.”

“Yeah I was close”, he says and scrunches his nose, “this is gonna feel so. So ah. So good”, Jungkook stutters and rolls his hips, “stay there. There. Baby, please.” 

“There?”

Jungkook moans loudly, scrunching his face.

“Yeah, right there”, you rasp, “you’re such a pretty boy, getting your pretty cock all clean and nice for me.”

“Fuck, oh fuck.”

“So pretty. You’re such a pretty boy with the prettiest cock.” 

“Now”, Jungkook gets out and moans, convulsing in his high. He spills all over his tummy and your hand, but the water washes it away instantly. He wobbles, finding support by holding your shoulder, “I was right, it feels so good”, he whines and reaches down to play with his own tip, “oh god, ____. Ah!”

“You’re so hot. So fucking hot”, you moan with him, feeling your own knees buckle. There are only a few things hotter than watching your husband orgasm. You could fucking do it for hours. It’s addictive, especially when he’s wet from a shower and his knees are wobbling like crazy. 

“Woah”, Jungkook gets out and slacks against you, dropping his head on your shoulder as his arms close around you. He audibly gulps repeatedly, nuzzling his nose into your skin. His cock is squished between your tummies, throbbing slowly. You hold the showerhead behind his back for now, letting the water hit the tiles.

“Liked it?” you ask him, tracing his spine.

He nods his head and exhales shakily, “holy fuck.”

You giggle, “you’re cute. I’m happy you liked it.”

“Yeah, I did. Seriously wow”, he exhales happily and lifts his head, giving you a goofy grin, “you’re the best ever. Thank you.”

You do a little curtsey, “you are very welcome.”

Jungkook laughs and gives your waist a little squeeze. His eyes lower playfully, he licks his lips. You feel your heart speed up and your pussy throb.

“Now give me the showerhead. It’s your turn”, he rasps and smirks.

You give it to him without hesitation, parting your legs so he can have access. You keep staring into his eyes, feeling yourself totally lose yourself in him. Jungkook gazes at you, eye fucking you so well that your breath is already shaky even without any sort of stimulation.

“Count to three for me”, he whispers.

“One.”

Jungkook slides his left hand to your hip.

“T-two.”

Jungkook leans down to place a kiss on the most sensitive spot of your neck.

“Three”, you sigh, closing your eyes in anticipation.

Warm water hits your pussy and stimulates your aching clit. You grip his strong upper arms, squeezing desperately.

“Jungkook….”

Jungkook purrs deeply, using his lips and teeth to play with your earlobe. He slides his left hand to the small of your back and tilts your hips with a gentle push, making it so your clit is more exposed to the stream of warm water.

The moan you let out bounces off the walls, but you find no shame in it. On the contrary, you allow another sound to slip, rolling your hips into the sensation.

“Is that nice, mhm?” Jungkook asks in a rasp and his voice tickling your ear.

“Yeah, nice”, you get out, gliding your hands to his pecs. Fuck, his skin is so wet and silky from the water. His muscles are twitching under your touch, his deep purr tickles your palm.

“You’re so sexy like this. Keep touching me, baby. Feel how strong I am, mhm?”

“Yeah…” you sigh, moaning when he tenses his pecs just for you.

Jungkook growls playfully and moves the showerhead closer. You twitch instinctively, feeling your knees shake.

“Wait. It feels weird like this”, you say. 

“Yeah? What do you need changed?”

“Don’t laugh, but I want it like this”, you say and sit down on the floor. You rest against the tiles and prop up your feet, parting your legs. 

“This is so hot”, Jungkook says and kneels down in front of you. He scoots close and gets comfortable with his legs crossed. You place your legs over his’, propping your feet up on the floor behind him. Like this, you have skin on skin contact and Jungkook is facing you head on. He leans in for a kiss, breaking it by gently nipping on your lower lip.

“You’re sexy”, he rasps and guides the showerhead to your pussy.

You jolt up, arching your back.

“Woah.”

“Good?” 

“Can you, ah, use your fingers to spread me?”

Jungkook nods his head and uses his left hand to part your folds for the water. Trembles shake your legs, your hips roll into the sensation.

“Fuck yes, ah like this.”

“This is so hot. I love this”, Jungkook rasps and switches his gaze to your pussy. He licks his lips, wiggling his hips in desperation. You are so spread for him and the water takes such pretty paths along your pussy. He makes sure to bundle the stream onto your clit area. You already look so swollen, especially now that he is keeping you spread, “you look so sensitive, baby.”

“Your thigh”, you mewl and it’s enough for Jungkook to understand that grinding on his meaty thigh brought you just as close as your stomach did him.

“Fuck, so hot”, he growls and spreads your pussy more. He draws lines up and down your clit, listening for your reaction. 

“Jungkook, baby”, you moan, rolling your head back.

Thud.

It falls against the tiles. Jungkook looks at your face. Your eyes are closed, a droopy smirk curls your lips.

“Does it feels good what I do?” he asks in a soft spoken voice. 

You nod your head.

“Should we try circles too?”

You nod your head again.

Jungkook changes the lines for circles, sending trembles through your legs. 

“It’s that. Ahng”, you scratch your nails over the tiled floor before grabbing your own thighs for support, “that. It’s, it’s that. Ah, fuuck….” you open your legs further, panting heavily as your back arches off the wall.

“Fuck, this is hot. I’m going insane”, Jungkook confesses in a raspy voice and his darkened eyes flitting back to your pussy. 

“Don’t stop please. This feels so good.”

“I won’t, baby”, he promises you and leans in for a kiss. He manages to place one on your jawline, ending it with a little suck. 

“Ah, mhm, ah”, you let out and writhe, “it’s soon.” 

“Yeah? So hot. My pretty girl with her pretty pussy. It’s so sexy how she’s getting all wet for me.”

“Keep talking, holy fuck.”

“Mhm, my pretty girl. You’ve got the prettiest pussy, baby”, Jungkook rasps and swirls the showerhead just how you need it, “my prett-”

“Now!” you fall into his words as your high hits you. Sit up in reaction, grabbing Jungkook’s arm for support as the only sound leaving you is a throaty “ngn.” 

“Baby”, Jungkook moans with you, staring at your throbbing pussy obsessively. She is pulsating so much.

“Holy fuck, this is actually making me squirt. Ohgod. Urgh”, you moan and groan, convulsing uncontrollably as the intense stimulation of the water makes you squirt. 

“Holy fuck, baby. Holy fuck”, Jungkook growls, gawking obsessively. The water washes any kind of proof away instantly, but the way you grab him and shake, is enough to let him know that you weren’t bluffing. The showerhead is making you fucking squirt all over the shower floor and it’s Jungkook’s doing. 

“You’re a fucking goddess. Holy shit, I’m going insane”, Jungkook moans and helps you ride it out until you push away the showerhead on your own.

You drop against the wall, letting your head tangle tiredly.

“No more. Holy fuck”, you croak and writhe, “wow…” 

Jungkook, who is still keeping you spread with his left hand, uses his pointer finger to rub your clit. He gets as far as to lightly brush his the pad of his finger over it and then you already flinch in overstimulation. Your legs fall closed as best as possible, your eyes open and beg him to stop.

“Seriously don’t. I’m so-” you twitch and flinch as Jungkook does it again. 

As gently as possible. But you are way too overstimulated, so it felt as if he was using his entire force.

“Kook”, you both moan and complain, “stop it, I’m too sensitive”, you say in a laugh, reaching between your legs to pull his hand away.

Jungkook laughs and lets you. He holds your waist instead, closing in so he could claim your lips in a smiley kiss. 

You kiss him back, but soon push him away gently. You slap his chest with both hands, barely using strength for it.

“You’re fucking awful. My clit’s sensitive”, you chuckle.

“Sorry, it was too tempting not to”, he snickers, “you know I love it when you’re like this.” 

“I know. Too much unfortunately. One day I’ll accidentally kick you ‘cause you activated some sort of reflex. Seriously.”

Jungkook laughs. You laugh. You fall into a giggly kiss again, ending it with a mutual “mhm” and a stub with your noses. 

You rest your forehead together, keeping your eyes closed.

“So this was amazing”, he whispers 

“Yeah, it was. Exactly what I needed tonight.”

“Definitely. I feel so good. You?”

“Me too, yeah. Although, two things.”

“Yeah?” Jungkook is already snickering.

“My tailbone is starting to hurt and I’m getting sleepy.”

He chuckles and pecks your lips.

“Let’s actually dry ourselves, do our routines and then go to bed?” he suggests.

“Sounds like a deal. Snuggles later?”

“Snuggles definitely later. Oh hell yeah, you can bet on it”, he says, making you giggle.

“You’re cute. Now help me up, I’m ruined, seriously.”

Jungkook laughs, “hold onto me. Your strong hubby will help you.”

“Wow, I married the strongest person ever. My hero”, you joke, looking into Jungkook’s sparkly eyes as you and he once again share in giggles and laughter. 

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Slice of Paradise

a/n My brain literally now run only on Joel... So here's a little something something. 🫧

summary: Joel dream of having a farmhouse comes true. What makes it even better is that he's not there alone. He has his own little family to enjoy this little slice of paradise with him.

warnings: just tooth rotting fluff, mention of reader being pregnant, mentions of morning sickness.

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

If someone were to tell you that somewhere along the line you were going to end up at a place like Jackson in a farmhouse with a loving husband and kids, you would have laughed at them. Or brushed it off to the outback insanity. It seemed impossible. Safety seemed impossible at first. Then followed freedom and, of course, happiness. Those things appeared to be worthy of history textbooks. They could have a title like - at some point in human history, they were happy.

It was hard to move past deaths and past killings. Making sure you kept your humanity alive. Not to become a killing monster. Similar to clickers or any other of those fuckers. When Ellie happened, you had a feeling your life was going to change. You just never imagined it would change so drastically. You and Joel had settled for a dull day-to-day routine. Coming to terms with the fact that your life in QZ was as good as it could get. You never complained. You had one after another. Others didn't even have that kind of luxury.

But here you were now. In a little farmhouse with green shutters that Joel and Ellie had painted over for you because that's what you had always wanted. A garden - full of flowers that you tended to. Of course, to share with the town, but also for your own enjoyment. A couple of dozen of sheep were carelessly plucking grass in the fields around. Something that Joel wanted. Something that had helped him think clearer.

You hummed to yourself. Cutting up the last pieces for supper. The warm spring sun peeped through the windows, only making the smile on your face bigger. It still seemed surreal at times. Like all this was just a dream. One from which you never wanted to awaken. A little flutter in your stomach made you stop. Hand slipping on your five-month pregnant belly. Big enough to let everyone know that you were with a child but not big enough to make it hard for you to move around just yet.

Joel still found the walk to the house odd. It was weird in itself that he had a home to come to. And it wasn't the house itself that surprised him. Oh, no. You, Ellie, and now the baby that was on its was what made it home. A place where he could finally let go. Where the ghost of his past had a harder time finding him. Joel had finally been able to see the bigger picture. He was finally a part of a bigger picture.

With a gun still on his shoulder, Joel opened the wooden gates as he strolled towards the house. The dog on the side of the patio lifted his head, and Joel quickly reached to scratch his ear. "Hi, Brandy, why are you out in front, boy?", Joel questioned as the dog eagerly wagged his tail.

Ellie had come up with the name. She was eager for Joel to name the pup. No one else was allowed to pick a name. "Oh, come on, old thing! Think of something", she said, pushing for a thousand time. She wiggled a toy in her hand as the dog jumped around happily. "I don't know, Ellie. Just name it yourself," he grumbled, even though he knew that she wasn't going to drop the subject until he came up with something. "How about that nasty shit you always drink?", suggested Ellie, looking up. "Brandy?" Joel questioned, and the dog cocked his head at the sound of Joel's voice. Ellie's eyes grew big as she clapped happily. "You like it, boy? Do you like the name? He likes Brandy," she chirped happily. You leaned closer to Joel, laughing as he shook his head, and yet the smile was evident.

The house was quiet as Joel undid his jacket before hanging it up neatly. Knowing that you would be up his sleeve if he left a mess behind himself. He made his way through the house, stopping to listen in the living room. Hoping that he would pick up any sound that would lead him to you. And he did. A light humming came from the kitchen.

And you were indeed there; however, Joel nearly had a heart attack when he saw you standing up on the counter as you tried to reach for something in the upper cabinets. "Have you gone mad, woman", his voice started you, making you nearly drop the jar of spices in your hands. Joel's hands came off either side of your torso as he carefully lifted you off the counter. Your hands pressing into his shoulders.

"What are you doing here?", you questioned, not expecting him to be home just yet. Hence your little adventure. "The better question is, why were you up on the counter at five months pregnant?" You rolled your eyes at him. Appreciating the protectiveness but also slightly hating that now he thought that you were made of glass. "I needed this," you said as you fiddled with the jar in your hands. Moving to take off the lid of the pot before pouring some of it in. Joel's hands didn't leave your sides. "You get the step stool for that, love; we talked about it. You can't do this weird monkey shit; you're not ten." You turned back to your husband. Hands moving to cup his face as you looked at him, "You haven't seen half of my tricks", "I will tie you to the chair if you'll continue to do stuff like that", Joel warned you, and you couldn't help but laugh a little, "Don't forget your gun while you watch over me then".

His eyes altered as he glanced at you, and you couldn't help but let out a sigh. Joel leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours, "I just don't want you both to get hurt." You moved your palms to run up and down his chest. "I know, honey, I promise no more jumping on counters," you said softly, kissing the tip of his nose. "Unless you're supervising me," you chirp, causing Joel to let out a chuckle.

"How are you feeling today?", Joel's tender palms slipped to run over your bump, and you hummed in delight as the warmth from his skin seeped through your flowy dress. "We're good. I didn't start my morning with a head down the toilet, can you believe it?", you cackled, and Joel gave you a knowing look. Morning sickness had taken its toll on you. To the point where he had rushed you to the doctor in town when you blacked out after vomiting for an hour straight. Joel refused to do any morning petrol after that. He wanted. He needed to be by your side. Even if every time you tried to usher him out of the bathroom, claiming it must be extremely disgusting to him.

"That's good, I was worried the whole morning," he admitted, focusing his attention on the bump. "Joel, we are all okay," your hand slipped on top of his, "She's been happily kicking away all morning," "She? No, it's a boy, aren't you, little guy?" Joel leaned down, pressing a lovely kiss and then the other on the swell of your tummy. Shortly after, a light kick followed up Joel's touch, making the male smile as he repeated the action once again.

"And where's El?", Joel asked, looking around the place. She usually sat by the island doing her homework happily by now, but there was no sight of her there. You hummed, "She said she would come a bit later than usual. She's out with a friend," you wiggled your brows, briefly turning your gaze to the food. "A friend?", "Yeah, Dina I think, and I suspect she likes her", a smile spread on your face as you thought about the little girly chat you two had.

"That's good; she deserves to have a friend. Good for her," Joel's arms were still roaming your skin as you turned back to him, giving him a look, "No, Joel. I mean, like, like her," Joel's face blanked as the realization dawned on him, and you hummed. "She brought in pancakes with fruit and cream to school to share with her", you giggled. Joel stayed silent as he stared ahead of himself. It felt silly, but Joel was almost jealous that Ellie suddenly had someone else in her life. Like he didn't want to share her with anyone else. You three had fallen into such conformable dynamics. It felt easy, and it felt right. To Joel, Ellie was still too young to date or have a crush. "Wipe the frown off your face; it's not like she's getting married already," you said as you nudged your husband's shoulder as he folded his hands over his chest.

"Mom," Ellie's voice echoed down the corridor. Your heart fluttered. It still did. Even after more than a year of her referring to you like that. She had sat you and Joel down after a month or two of you moving into the farmhouse. She was a stuttering mess as she tried to explain, or more specifically, ask if she would be allowed to call you her parents.

"Because we like live together, and then you let me stay, and I have my room. But the room, of course, means nothing, but you like wanted me to stay so…", you reached for her hand and then gave it a little squeeze as you cut her ramble off. "I'd be honored to be your mom," you said softly, and Ellie bit down on her lower lip in hopes of stopping it from quivering. Her eyes landed on Joel, who had his arms crossed over his chest. His usual stance - an unapproachable demeanor that he hadn't dropped even now. "Go ahead, just no daddy shit, or you're sleeping in the stables," Joel said. Ellie instantly rounded the corner of the table and launched herself into Joel's arms. Hugged his torso as she smiled. "Okay, daddy," she whispered, making Joel tickle her.

You smiled to yourself as the memory melted into your mind. "In the kitchen, baby," you shouted back. Joel's hand moved back to your hip as he and you waited for Ellie to appear. The footsteps sounded weird. Not as familiar. As if there were more than one set of them. And well, your hearing hadn't failed you, as another girl appeared on Ellie's left side. "Oh, dad, I thought you wouldn't be home." Ellie's face paled slightly, as she noticed Joel, but the lazy smile on his face made her ease up almost instantly. "I missed my girls; I thought I'd surprise you," he said in return. In a way, he was hoping that Ellie would run up to hug him like she always did when Joel returned from work, but he also understood that now that she had a friend here, she probably wouldn't do so.

"Ah… well, this is Dina, a friend from school," Ellie said shyly, and the girl by her side waved nervously at you two, "Can she stay for dinner?" Joel studied the girl. The girl who possibly Ellie liked. He tried to pinpoint the features she might have taken to her liking. "Of course, that would be lovely. Go wash your hands, you two, and I'll come to get you when it's ready." Stepping closer, you caressed Ellie's cheeks tenderly. She flashed you a bright smile as she took Dina by the hand, and the two ran up the stairs laughing.

You turned back to your husband, fanning your hands in front of your eyes as the tears parked up, clouding your vision. "Sugar, what's all of this for?", Joel stepped closer to you, embracing you once again. "Don't pay attention, hormones," you muttered, wiping away the tears. Joel chuckled softly, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. "Didn't you just tell me that she ain't getting married just yet?", he teased, making you bite down your lip. As another wave of tears rolled down your cheeks, "Imagine her in a dress, no, a suit—she would do a suit, ahh," you whimpered, covering your face with your hands.

Joel shook his head, pulling you even closer to him, his hands running up and down your back, soothing you. Secretly enjoying this more sensitive side of you. That one that cried at Brandy bathing in the sun or Ellie's school project. Even Joel's neatly folded clothes had you shedding tears. Joel breathed in the scent of you. One hand slipped back down onto your bump. "Take nice, big breaths, honey. Want a glass of water?", he asked, shifting, reaching for a cup as he guided you to sit down on the chair. Quickly stirring the pot before turning back to you.

"Do you think this little bug will grow up just as fast?", your hand slipped over your bump subconsciously once more. Joel hummed, "Don't they all? We'll blink, and this one will be climbing up the countertops," you sniffed again, unable to suppress a grin. "Go to your sheep before you turn me into a puddle", you waved Joel away playfully. It had been his habit for some time. He had a little talk with his soft friend before he sat down for dinner. A way for him to digest the day.

"Do I at least get a kiss?", Joel cocked his head to the side, watching you. "Do you think you deserve one?", "For putting a baby inside you, yes." You let out a gasp, hitting his chest. "Joel, dear God, they might hear you", he lets out a deep belly laugh, stepping closer to you, "Shut me up with a kiss", you roll your eyes. Cupping his cheeks before you leaned in, as you pressed your lips to Joel's in a tender kiss. Yeah, this was home, and even if Joel often thought he didn't deserve it, he wouldn't trade it for anything else.

[alderaana]

pretty, pretty girl.

leon kennedy is your older brother's best friend, you're freshly eighteen.

nsfw, p-v, virgin reader, slightly older leon. please wrap it before you tap it.

Your birthday was highly anticipated. Finally legal, so many opportunities that have opened up to you. Your parents had showered you with gifts all day, leading up to your party tonight.

"Happy birthday sis, here's a little something from me."

Your brother smiles, handing you a medium wrapped box. You smile, tearing the package as he leans up against the wall to watch you.

"Oh my god- Danny you seriously didn't.."

You were met with a signed slipknot shirt, all of the current members had signed it...

"i jumped through hoops for that so you better love it."

Your brother laughs as you engulf him in a huge hug.

"Thank you so much, seriously this is amazing."

"Don't sweat it kid, you made it to the border of adulthood."

You smile, admiring the shirt and thanking your brother again. making your way upstairs, you glance over your notifications of all of your friends wishing you happy birthday.

You place the shirt on your desk, admiring it fully before hearing your parents call you downstairs.

"coming!"

The stairs are stiff as you run down them, finding your parents in the kitchen.

"Hey birthday girl! your party is going to start soon, we wanted to know if you had a time for the family to leave and it just be us and your friends?"

You nod.

"Can it be around 8? I think that will be enough time for grandma and grandpa since the party starts at three."

"Sounds great. well help round them up around eight then."

Your mom smiles as your dad opens his phone, presumably to let the family that was coming know. you had a bunch of your friends coming over to spend the night for your birthday.

---

Your family all came pouring into your living room, holding gifts as you and your parents greeted them. Soon after your friends were doing the same.

The party was fun, but oddly overstimulating. There are so many people in your house which wasn't common at all. When it came time for cake, everyone gathered around as you stared at the Sicilian cheesecake with a candle sat in front of you.  The tension was high in your brain as everyone serenades you for your occasion.

The candles flicker out as you blew them out, the sounds of cheers as you did so. A good amount of "you made it!" and "you're getting so grown" were thrown towards you as everyone cut their slice out. You smiled at everyone, enjoying your cake.

Presents were the most exciting yet nervous time of the night. Lots of money made its way into your hands, your friends gifting you lots of casually sexual things which you would laugh with them about later.

"Thank you all so much, seriously. I am so grateful."

Your smile seals your sentiment as your family all gather around to take a picture with you. a momentum for the scrapbook, you finally being legal.

"Alright, it's getting late you all."

Your mother pipes in, silently hinting for everyone to roll out so you could spend just one on one time with your friends.  Everyone wishes you one last time as they roll out slowly, some help pick up and take some food from dinner home.

Your mother sighs as she shuts the door, turning back to you and your friends.

"Alright girls. we'll leave you alone now, don't go too crazy."

Both of your parents head upstairs, leaving you with your friends.

"So what now hm?"

Jess pipes in, giggling with everyone else.

"I honestly don't know. my family was kind of exhausting."

You say, rubbing your eyes as you turn the tv on.

"Do you guys want to watch a movie?"

"Let's just listen to music, you'll pass out if you watch a movie."

Madi says laughing, grabbing the remote and putting on a party playlist.

"Yeah come on, it's your birthday let's make the day last!"

You laugh, shaking your head as they make you stand up, encouraging you to dance with them.

"You guys are insane, fine."

You dance with them, letting yourself enjoy it as they turn the lights off. The TV being the only illumination as you danced more with them. Madi grabs your sides, giggling as she dances up against you. You all laughing as Jess takes pictures, both of you posing stupidly as the music plays louder.

"Hey! turn that down. mom and dad are asleep."

Your brother says from the bottom of the stairs, laughing at all of you.

"Sorry Danny, guess we just got a bit carried away."

Your friends laugh and hum in agreement.

"Well, either way I had to get something from downstairs and it was way too loud coming out of my bedroom."

You laugh, watching your brother head towards the front door, assuming he's getting something from his car.

Unfortunately, you were wrong. he opened the door and you were met with his best friend holding a present. The man was wearing a leather jacket, his hair slightly damp as it was pouring rain outside.

"Am i late to the party?"

You freeze, your friends being confused. He smirks as he with one arm goes in for a hug and pat on the back with your brother.

"Sorry, i totally forgot to tell you Leon was coming over sis."

You shakily laugh as you regain your composure.

"No it's fine, and no you aren't late at all."

Leon walks up to you, handing you the gift.

"Good, this is for you kiddo."

"You seriously didn't have to Leon."

You admire the packaging, its decorated with black sleek wrapping paper, a red bow decorating the top.

"C'mon, open it."

Your friends sit up, looking at you as you awkwardly look down at it. Your hands slowly unwrap the present, treating it as if it was a bomb in your hands.

Inside the box was a bomber jacket, black with gold embroidery on the back that made into a moth.

"Holy shit Leon. where the fuck did you get this?"

He laughs, happy with your reaction. You smile wide as you throw it on, it fits exactly how you wanted it to.

"Looks perfect on you."

A blush creeps over your face as you surge forward, hugging Leon tightly. he's caught off guard, slowly hugging you back.

"She doesn't even hug me, and my gift was better!"

Your brother says, laughing in shock. Leon looks over at him, laughing lightly as you break the hug.

"The slipknot shirt was just as good Danny, I just don't want to touch you. you reek of old spice and Leon doesn't."

You and your friends laugh, Leon trying not to join as your brother's face looks jokingly offended.

"Okay, you're lucky it's your birthday or I seriously would have went there."

He points at you menacingly as you laugh.

"Alright, i'm going to hang out with Danny now."

He ruffles your hair.

"Happy birthday again."

Leon smiles as he heads upstairs with your brother.

"Dude your brother's friend is hot."

Jess whispers, you glaring her down.

"I fucking know. and he's always been hot..." you sigh, Madi and Jess looking at eachother in glances.

"so what's stopping you now?"

Madi asks, searching for your answer. The idea was in your mind, especially with the way he hugged you back. He was always someone you crushed on, ever since Leon and Danny started being friends. that was five years ago, but you never let it really control you. He always seemed like someone out of reach even if you tried. for god's sake he's 23, and you're freshly 18.

"Uhh..."

You look down, shyly shuffling your feet.

"Because he's way older you guys. he's 23 just like Danny."

Madi laughs, "and?"

You scoff.

"That's a bit of difference.... i don't know you guys."

Your friends look at you like you said something outlandishly stupid.

"Dude... even if he doesn't seem interested i would try and go for it."

"You guys are being bad influences cmon.."

"Bad influences?? with the way that man looks? no we definitely aren't."

You sigh, sitting down in between them.

"Dude, just go upstairs and find a lame excuse to be in Danny's room."

It wasn't a bad idea, there were several things you could go into his room for. Asking if he had an empty laundry basket, keys to his car because you left something in his car, etc...

"Okay well let's go to my room and think about this more."

Madi claps excitedly, "yes let's make tonight us helping you out as wingwomen." Jess smiles and nods, all of you heading upstairs to your room. which uncomfortably was next to Danny's. Footsteps were soft as everyone heads into your room. Madi plopping onto your bed as Jess sits in the chair for your desk. You close the door and look back at them, who both share the biggest shit eating grin.

"Guys come on... don't look at me like that."

"Okay, so what if you go in there and ask if Danny can heat up some of the food from dinner.” 

You deadpan Jess. 

“What.. i’m hungry it’s not like you’re lying.”

Sighing, you nod and make your way out of the room. Stopping at the closed door to your brother’s room. You could hear them laughing, playing some sort of video game. You suck in deeply and open the door, being met with Leon sprawled out on the bed watching your brother play some game. They both turn towards you, and notice Leon wearing a black tee that fit him extremely well. 

“Danny can you heat up some of the food for my friends and we’re hungry again.”

He looks annoyed as he shakes his head. 

“Can’t you do it yourself? It’s literally so simple.”

“Yeah but it’s my birthday and i won’t put that on my friends.”

Danny gets up, visibly annoyed and loudly sighs. 

“Fine.”

Leon laughs, watching Danny leave the room.

“He was in the middle of a match, but good job making him get up.”

You nervously lean up against the doorway, smiling at Leon.

“You should see him when you’re not around.”

Leon props himself onto his elbows, making direct eye contact with you.

“Oh believe me, i’ve known him so long i hear about it every single time now.”

You scoff, jokingly holding your chest.

“Wow. what a brother.”

You admire Leon as he laughs, his legs spread apart and his sweatpants fit exactly how you want them to. 

“Cmon, you know Danny. How surprised can you be.”

You giggle back, nodding in agreement. 

“I guess you’re right.”

You bite your lip gently, focusing on the floor for a second before deciding to be bold. 

“So Danny told me you’ve been enjoying your federal job? How is that going?”

He sits up more, now on the edge of the bed. His elbows propped on his knees as he looks up at you. 

“It’s alright. I make the money i want to, and i’d like to say i’m pretty good at what I do.”

You gently nod, shifting against the doorway. 

“You don’t come around as often because of it.. I noticed that. Danny did too.”

He smiles, looking at his hand.

“You pay attention to that?”

His tone gets flirty, and a little stern. It catches you off guard.

“Well…. Don’t say it like that..”

He stands up, getting closer as you start to internally panic.

“Oh i know it’s exactly like that.”

He leans closer, his hand running underneath your chin forcing you to make eye contact with him. You couldn’t feel air in your lungs as you stare into his gaze, him smirking slightly as he towers over you. 

“I’m going to check on Danny, we can talk about this later birthday girl.”

Leon chuckles, walking past you and going downstairs. You couldn’t feel your face as you try and calm your breath. What the fuck?

You walk into your room, being met with two faces of anticipation.

“Well?”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Danny has food ready downstairs, let's go.”

You turn around, walking down the stairs as your friends lightly tap your shoulder unspokenly asking what happened. 

You avoid eye contact as Danny hands you a plate of food, sitting on the couch. Your friends thanking Danny. You focus on your food until Leon sits near you on the couch. They had made themselves a plate as well, but the silence was killing everyone. Your phone buzzes underneath your leg.

Jess: dude WHAT happened…… it’s so awkward? Did it go badly? 

You look up, glaring Jess down from your end of the couch. 

“I think i’m just going to eat in my room, you coming le?”

Danny asks, waiting for Leon.

“Nah, i’ll finish then come up.”

“Yeah we might do the same Danny.”

Your friends follow Danny upstairs with their plates, leaving you and Leon alone. Fuck. your phone vibrates again.

Madi: this is for your own good 

You sigh, throwing your phone down and trying to just focus on your food. 

“Your friends know what they’re doing, huh?”

Leon laughs, standing up and putting his plate in the dishwasher. He makes his way over to you, grabbing your empty plate and doing the same. You try to get up and make a run for upstairs but Leon stops you before you can even think about it. 

“You’re so pretty when you’re nervous….. I love it.” 

He holds eye contact with you, and all you can do is lightly gulp unsure of how to react. 

“L-Leon what are you doing”

He grabs your wrist, standing up and forcing your chest against his.

“Don’t play fucking dumb.”

You try to free his grip, but he already was so much stronger than you. His free hand comes to run through your hair, tucking it behind your ear.

“Pretty, pretty girl.” 

His hand comes underneath your chin again, bringing it to his face as he lays a gentle kiss to yours. You catch yourself kissing back, his hand slowly letting go of your wrist. You could feel your heart rate going through the roof, his hand catching your lower back. 

“Leon…”

“Your brother is going to notice me being gone for so long.”

He smirks, letting go of you and heading upstairs. Again, what the fuck?

You stand there for a moment, realizing that this was the second time he had left you in that position now. Why was he treating you this way? He was just calling you kiddo earlier. My god. You grab your phone, heading upstairs and finding your friends. 

“Seriously guys. That was fucked up.”

More confused looks. 

“What even happened?”

You sigh, throwing yourself onto your bed. As you speak, you zone out at the ceiling. 

“He kissed me, then just left.”

They both jump up, trying to not squeal since he was literally in the room next to theirs. 

“Dude… you’re in!!!”

“I don’t even know… he just left me so fucking confused.”

“Oh shut up. Do you think he’ll take your virginity?? Oh my god. Jess, we need to sleep in the guest room.”

Madi exclaims to Jess, causing you to roll over and scream into your pillow. 

“Guys! Stopppp.”

You try not to smile, but you definitely weren’t good at it. You were just okay with kissing him, but losing your virginity? That was a dream come true.

“You know what… It is getting late.” 

Jess smugly smiles at Madi, who nods in agreement. 

“Yeah. it is.. Guess we will have to sleep in the guest bedroom now.”

They both get up, starting to grab their things. You can’t even stop them as by the time you could even argue they were out of your room.

“Oh my god. They just fucking bailed on me. This is not fair.”

You get up, sighing as you turn your light off. You could hear Danny lightly snoring as you laid down in bed. You open your phone up, texting Jess and Madi that they were dicks but that you loved them at the same time. You scroll on social media, before getting up to use the bathroom.

The hallway was dark, and you stumble around until you open the bathroom door. After finishing your business you wash your hands, admiring yourself in the mirror before drying your hands and heading back to your bedroom. 

As soon as you close your door, you turn around to find Leon sitting on your bed. 

“Your friends ditched you.”

He spoke in a whisper, but you could still hear how smug he was about it. 

“What are you doing in here-”

Leon pulls you towards him, you stare down at him. The only thing illuminating the both of you was your lamp on your desk. 

“Finishing what I started, that’s all.”

“And what is that, Leon?”

He trails his hands up and down your sides, his hands slightly underneath the bottom of your shirt. 

“So beautiful.”

He breathes out, his hands trailing farther up your shirt. You put your hands on his chest, subtly stopping him. 

“Leon, if you’re fucking with me. It’s obviously working. Is this some dare Danny made you do? Because that is low.” 

He pulls you into his lap, causing you to gasp in surprise as he holds your back.

“Danny would kill me if he caught us like this, so no.”

He smiles, watching your face determine and realize what’s happening. He cups your face with his other hand, kissing you again. Leon’s hand on your back lowers, cupping your ass. You moan into the kiss which encourages Leon even more. He grabs your ass, his hips pressing into you. The kiss deepens, and you can feel his boner underneath you.

“Fuck.”

He breathes out, admiring your face as you stare right back at him. You catch yourself sitting up, straddling him better. His hands meet your hips encouraging you to keep doing what you were doing. You lean down, kissing Leon harder as his hips press up slightly from the contact.

You run your fingers through his hair, then cupping the side of his face. Leon is an amazing kisser, he really knows how to take the lead. His tongue moved perfectly against yours, biting on his lower lip caused him to grip your hips harder. 

“Let me take care of you…. It’s your birthday.”

Before you can respond, he flips you onto your back. He leans over you, kissing slowly down your neck as he bites and licks small hickeys onto it. You whine which causes him to slowly grind into you. You can feel yourself getting wetter at the attention. His hand comes up, cupping your boob as he kisses more into your neck.

“Leon please..”

He perks up, a smirk on his face.

“Please what, princess?”

You blush, feeling yourself heat up as your core throbs at the pet name. He looks down at your shirt. 

“Let’s take this off. Is that what you want?”

You nod shyly, letting Leon help you out of your shirt. His breath hitches at your lace bra, obviously not expecting that. He leans in and kisses you harder, excited over the new exposure of skin. 

“So beautiful baby… going to make you feel so good I promise..”

Leon breathes out, kissing your neck again and trailing down to your boobs. You grab his hair, lightly moaning as he leaves darker hickeys on your tits. You grab at the bottom of his shirt, silently asking for him to take his off as well. 

“Yeah? Alright baby….”

He leans up, taking his shirt off. His body was insane… You knew he went to the gym but he was built. You catch yourself staring before Leon leans down again. You feel along his back as he kisses you, his hips starting to grind against you again. You whimper into his lips, causing him to smirk into the kisses. Leon’s hand trails down to the waistband of your pants. 

“Do you want this?”

You blush at the question, starting to slightly tremble at the excitement. 

“Yes Leon..”

“Ill be gentle, just for you baby.”

He smiles, sitting up to pull your pants off. His breath hitches as he realizes your panties match your bra, causing his dick to jump a little. He tosses your pants onto the floor, laying further down, spreading your legs. You can’t stop trembling as you watch him. His broad shoulders hold your legs as his arms hold your thighs. He looks up at you, smiling. He taps your thigh with his finger, silently saying it’s okay. You calm down, giving Leon the leeway to start. 

His hand trails over your clit, admiring the underwear. He slowly pulls it to the side, admiring how beautiful you are. 

“Oh my god..”

You feel Leon sigh onto your pussy, the bed slightly moving from Leon grinding into the mattress. He gently feels your entrance, admiring the slick you’ve produced. He licks his fingers, slightly whining at the taste. 

“Mmnmmm. Are you ready?”

You nod, still nervous. He slowly peppers kisses around your thighs, finally latching onto your clit. You whine, trying to be quiet. He smiles against you, licking up and down. He enjoyed the taste, letting his finger tease your entrance as he focused on your clit with his tongue. You arch your back and press yourself against his face. He loves all of it. The way you already are breaking out into a sweat because of him.

“L’Leon..”

You grab his hair slightly, causing his pace to speed up. His fingers slowly dipping into you more. You can already feel your orgasm building up. His smirk is imprinted into your clit as he eats you out. You feel your legs spread farther, but Leon stops that very quickly. Leon’s fingers quicken alongside his tongue, your orgasm almost there.

“Leon please… im going to …. Please fuck fuck fuck..”

“Come on babygirl… let me taste it.”

That sends you over the edge, you can feel him moan into your pussy as you clench around his fingers. Your grip on his hair not helping. You try and catch your breath, Leon pulling his fingers out and his tongue laps up your cum.

“So good…. You did so good princess.”

You cover your face in embarrassment, which isn’t for long as Leon pulls your hands out of your face to kiss you. You can taste yourself on his tongue, him moaning into the kiss. You trail your hand down to feel his hard on. Which causes him to moan into the kiss more. 

“Please Leon….. Fuck me.”

He smiles, petting your hair again. He nods, taking his sweats off leaving him in his boxers. You pull him into you, feeling his boner against your core. He takes you in for a kiss again, grinding into you fully this time. You’re shaking with anticipation again, moaning at the friction. Leon tugs at your underwear, slowly pulling them off for you. 

He then motions you to sit up, helping you pull your bra off. His eyes latch onto your bare tits, admiring how perfect they were. You lay back again, watching as Leon pulls his boxers down. His dick springs free, precum leaking. He was huge. You internally panicked, and he picked up on that. 

“It’s okay, we can go slow unless you want to stop.”

“No. it’s okay, it’s just my first time.”

His dick twitches at that, causing Leon to smile.

“Is it? I'm going to set a high expectation then.” 

You blush, trying to look away. He grabs your face, kissing you as you feel his tip brush against your entrance. You grind into him, both of you moaning at the contact. 

“If you keep doing that i will fuck the shit out of you baby.”

You apologize, which causes Leon to laugh. 

“So cute.”

He sits up, pushing your thighs to your chest. He grabs his dick, gathering your slick onto his dick. He quietly groans at the sensation. He lines himself up and looks at you again.

“Ready?” 

You shyly nod. He pushes in slowly, letting you adjust to him. You well up with tears, trying not to cry. You feel how much he stretches you, glad he prepped you beforehand. 

“Shhh.. shhh. It’s okay. You can take it. Fuck you’re so tight”

Leon wipes your tears away, giving you gentle kisses as he pushes more and more into you. 

“Doing so good for me baby…. Look at you. Take me so well, especially for your first time.”

He kisses your neck, almost bottoming out now. You feel yourself wince as he does, glad it finally was over. Leon kisses you again, trying to help ease you. It works, it really helps you relax, his hand running through your hair. You start to clench around Leon, feeling yourself at ease.

“Fuck….. So tight… I don't think I'll last..”

Leon sighs into your skin, slowly pulling out. The feeling making you whimper as he pulls almost all the way out before slowly pushing back in. This causes a low moan from Leon and a whimper from you.

“Oh my god.”

He bites your neck to prevent himself from moaning loudly as he repeatedly slowly pulls out and pushes in. Both of you in pure bliss as he does so. 

“Are you doing okay princess?”

You nod, feeling yourself moan as he holds your thighs to your chest, starting to pick up his speed. 

“God i’m trying so hard to be gentle but you feel so fucking amazing.”

“You can go faster I- i can take it.”

You grab at his back, then your other hand holding the nape of his neck as he picks up his speed. 

“So fucking beautiful… look at you. This pussy is perfect.”

He leans down, sucking your nipple and pinching the other. The sound of his thrusts starts to get louder. Leon didn’t care, he was way too busy with how amazing you were to care about anyone else in the house. You can feel yourself tighten as he goes harder. He sits up, his hands digging into your thighs as he starts to go as fast as he can into you. You’re moaning as quietly as you can now but he’s practically hitting your cervix with how hard and fast he was going. 

Leon’s face scrunches, enjoying the way you feel around him. You can feel your orgasm building up which causes you to whine. Leon whimpers as he feels you pulse around him.

“Baby i’m about to cum inside of you if you keep doing that.”

Your back arches.

“Please cum in me Leon please..”

You feel him speed up even more.

“Yeah? Going to fuck myself into you… fill this pussy up.. Make you mine. You are mine. After this. Going to cum inside my princess’s pussy real hard for her.”

You can feel how he’s about to, which sends you into your orgasm. Your head is thrown back into the pillow, feeling your walls pulse around him as he releases into your pussy. His pace is still the same, slowing down as he makes sure he cums every last drop into you. You catch your breath as Leon collapses on top of you. You hold onto his back, and the back of his head.

“Fuck Leon..”

He laughs into the skin of your neck, still inside of you. 

“Was it good for your first time?”

“That was perfect.”

He kisses your neck, moving up to kiss your cheek. Petting your hair, he admires your face and smiles. Leon sits up, slowly pulling out of you. He watches as his cum slowly leaks out of you, a big smile on his face. 

“Let me clean you up, pretty girl.”

He stands up, finding a towel from your laundry and helping clean you up. Leon then pulls his clothes on, searching for yours and helping you get dressed. 

“Please don’t leave this time Leon.”

He smiles at you, admiring how pretty you truly are.

“I wasn’t even planning on it, babygirl.”

He lays down, pulling the covers over the both of you. Letting yourself fall asleep, you enjoy Leon's big arms cradling you as he cuddles into your neck.