#goes into meetings with sticky darts on the back of his head

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

Kirtch’s exoskeleton vs those need bullets with the little suction cups on the end.

Do they stick?

Hell yeah they stick lmaoooooooo

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

My Favorite Dealer - JJ Maybank One Shot

+18 Minor DNI

Dealer!JJ x CameronSibling!Reader

⭐ republished ⭐

+18 Minor DNI

Warning: SMUT, language, swearing, drug usage, Sub!JJ, Soft!dom Reader, unprotected p in v, shotgun kissing, fingering, oral (male receiving), oral (female receiving), BDJ (Big Dick JJ), nipple play, heavy praise, pet names, and nicknames, reader has nipple piercings; first time together not first time

📖 Rafe’s sister really likes JJ and decides she’s ready to make a move. This JJ is sweet, like sticky sweet so forewarning if that’s not your thing.

✨ "You sure?" You hum. "I can give you whatever you want." Your eyes trail up his frame. JU's eyes widen, darting around before meeting yours again.

"Are you askin' me what I think you're askin' me?"

"Depends, JJ. What do you want?" ✨

4K

Reader’s POV:

Shit.

A smile slips your lips, butterflies filling your stomach as you look down at your phone. My favorite drug dealer, JJ Maybank.

It’s just a little pot… enough to take the edge off. But then, there’s the late-night calls, when I’m feeling anxious; when I’m missing him.

He’s funny, sweet, sexy. Fuck me. Today, I’m going to do it… Make a move, take a chance. Sure, we flirt, but I want more. I want him.

KNOCK. KNOCK.

The sound sends chills down your spine as you hear a little rap on the window. “One second, J!

“No problem, y/n.”

Grabbing a sweatshirt and sweatpants, you tug them on, slicking on some lipstick, and spritzing a little perfume as well. Here goes nothing. You walk toward the window, heart pounding in your chest. His shadow shifts along the drawn curtain, making you smile even brighter.

“Y/n,” he grins. “How ya doing, darlin’?” His beautiful blue eyes meet yours as you tug open the window.

“Great. Thank you. And thanks for coming on such short notice. Ya know you can just come through the front door.” He cocks his eyebrow at you, holding short a laugh. “Ugh, don’t worry. Rafe’s all bark, Jayj.”

“For sure,” he breathes.

“You two still-”

“Not besties?” He interjects. “Nah… Not big fans of each other, princess.”

“Well, m’sorry. I can talk to him if you’d like.”

He shakes his head no, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “It’s all good. Don’t worry ‘bout that, sweetheart. Umm… Can I come in?”

“Please.” You draw back the curtain a little more. JJ steps in, glancing around the room.

“Shit… This is-”

“Excessive?” You sigh, making him expel an uneasy laugh. “Ward wouldn’t have it any other way. You’ve never been in my room before. Have you?”

“Nah… You usually meet me on the roof,” he hums, distracted by the childhood pictures on your wall. “Oh shit. Is Midsummers tonight?” JJ nods over to your slinky white dress in the corner.

Damn, he looks good… A well-loved t-shirt and tattered blue jeans stuffed into some work boots, blonde hair messy under his red backward hat. Your eyes meet JJ’s, making his cheeks blush. “Umm… It’s Midsummers tonight. Yeah?” He softens his tone, asking again.

“Oh shit,” you giggle, catching yourself preoccupied. “Do you wanna come, J?”

“Where?” He lifts his eyebrow again, unable to compute what you’re clearly asking him.

“To Midsummers? No pressure.” His eyes double in surprise. “Be my date?”

“You want me to be your date?”

“If you’d like… I mean it’s short notice; but-”

“I’d love that, y/n. I mean… I might not make it through the door. Think I’m banned for life,” he blurts.

“Banned for life?” You chuckle, shooting him a look.

“M’trouble. Apparently.”

You smile as you step a little closer, taking a seat on your desk across from him. “Can’t imagine that,” you flirt, leaning in a little more. You flutter your lashes, causing that same blush to creep across his already sun-kissed cheeks.

“Wow…. Shit. I just got really fucking nervous. Thanks for that,” JJ smiles, readjusting his hat anxiously. “I truthfully have nothin’ to wear.”

“We can just steal something from Rafe’s closet. It’ll piss him off if that makes it more appealing to you.”

“It does,” he chuckles, dimples popping with his wide smile. He draws his backpack off his back, rooting through his stash. “So, what would you like, y/n?”

“Whatever you think I’d like best.”

“Sherbert Queen it is,” he rasps as he tugs at the zipper of his backpack. He thumbs through his cache, retrieving the product; setting it on the desk.

“Alright, y/n. Anything else?”

Shit… This is when he usually leaves. Just fuckin’ do it. C’mon… “Oh. Umm… No.”

“Are you okay, y/n,” he questions earnestly; eyes lightening on yours as you fumble over your words.

“M’perfect, Jayj. What do I owe you?”

“Nothin’… Are you kiddin’ me? You just asked me out. Which I didn’t know was an option, or I woulda done it first, by the way,” he cheeses. “I’m not chargin’ you for shit, princess.” Your cheeks burn from your smile; eye, casting away as you try to build up your confidence.

Do it.

“I feel like I owe you something, Jayj.” The words drip off your lips.

“No, y/n. It’s on the house. Truly.”

“You sure?” You hum. “I can give you whatever you want.” Your eyes trail up his frame. JJ’s eyes widen, darting around before meeting yours again.

“Are you askin’ me what I think you’re askin’ me?”

“Depends, JJ. What do you want?” You lean in a little closer.

“You. Holy fuck. Are you sure?”

“Positive. Is that okay?”

“More than okay, y/n. Shit.” He digs his heel into the ground, cheeks reddening. “So, do you like, like me? Or are we just hooking up? Sorry… W-Wait. Woah. Hey… Ha. Ha. Uh. Don’t answer that. M’sorry.”

“I like you, JJ,” you answer confidently, making him suck in a bit of air.

“I… Uh-”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You soothe.

“You fuckin’ with me?” He asks, only half-joking.

”JJ… I like you. Why do you think I keep buyin’ pot from you?“

“I don’t know. I just thought you liked my shit,” he chuckles weakly as his voice cracks.

“I have no problem getting weed, Maybank… I just wanna see you.”

His eyelashes flutter, lips drawing to the side. “Well, in that case, I like you too, y/n. Every time you text me… It makes me really, really fuckin’ happy. And I think about you a lot. Like a lot, a lot.”

“You do?”

“A lot,” he repeats himself, sucking his teeth as he notices it. “Also, I’m usually pretty fuckin’ cool. I mean, like, I don’t usually freak out like this, anyway,” he flounders.

You pinch the bottom of your sweatshirt, drawing it over your frame, tossing it away. “Jayj-”

“Oh my god,” he huffs, eyes transfixed on your breasts.

“I know how you usually are. Alright? You bein’ nervous is only making me like you more. I know you’re cool,” you razz him, giving his chest a playful shove.

“Uh yeah…” He hums, eyes still zeroed in on your tits. JJ slams his eyes shut, taking a frustrated breath. “I just – Fuck, y/n. You could have any guy at the Island Club. Why are you botherin’ with me?”

“’Cause… You’re sweet, you’re funny, you’re hot. It’s a long list, Maybank. You want me to go on? I will.” He batts his lashes, taking in your praises like you’re speaking a foreign language, trying to pick up something he understands. “These guys are dicks, Jayj. Contrary to popular belief I don’t really care about that shit. But, I’m sitting here with my shirt off, and you haven’t done anything; so, if I’m reading this whole situation wrong and you’re just stalling to make me feel better, just let me know-”

JJ moves toward you quickly, stealing the words off your lips as he kisses you for the first time, making everything come to a stop. He tastes sweet, cherry chapstick and kush, making you lightheaded. JJ sucks off your bottom lip nice and slow, making you whimper against his kiss.

“How much time do we have before we gotta go?” He mumbles against your lips

“Not a lot… But, there’s always later.”

“Later as in tonight?”

“Yeah, Jayj,” you breathe against his lips.

“Fuck. I’m dreaming.”

“Can I make you feel good, JJ?”

“Jesus Christ,” he sighs; you can feel his smile against your lips. “You sure? Can I do anything for you?”

“I hope so …” You reach up, snagging JJ’s hat off slowly, setting it down on the desk as you continue to kiss. JJ works a little quicker, tearing himself out of his white shirt, his excitement making you swoon. He grabs your waist in his strong hands, lifting you off the desk.

Your fingers loop around the elastic band of your sweatpants. JJ watches you intently as you slip the material over your curves, revealing more and more skin. He dives for your lips again, kicking off his boots between kisses as you unfasten the button of his jeans. ”Can I?“ You smile, tugging at the denim.

”You can do anything you want to me, y/n,“ he pants. Your plump lips move to his jaw, a little further to his neck, leaving a trail of light pink lipstick in your wake.

JJ chuckles delightedly as his eyes follow the markings, lowering with you, watching you as you drop to your knees. ”Are you gonna – Oh. Oh, s-shit. You are,“ JJ pants, like he’s finally puzzled together as to why you’re on your knees.

Damn, he’s huge. His black briefs leave nothing to the imagination; the print of his hardened length, pitched against the fabric, precum wetting the cotton. “Y/n, I don’t know…”

You stop quickly, pulling your hands away as you look at his doubtful eyes. “JJ… I’m sorry. Shit. I just – I got a little carried away. M’sorry if I’m rush-”

“You’re not!” He croaks out; his voice is hoarse and breathless. “I just can’t believe you wanna do this.”

Your hands meet his body again, resting on his bare thighs as you look up at him with doe eyes, breathing a sigh of relief. “I really, really want to, JJ.”

“Yeah?”

“Jayj… I took off my shirt, I took off my pants, I’m on my knees; I’m fucking wet for you-”

“Wait – Really?” He questions. You chuckle and shake your head, burying your face in your palm. “Y/n, I swear I’m usually-”

“Cool, J. You are… I know. And I’m not teasing you. I can’t help but laugh… You’re just so fuckin’ sweet. Let me suck your cock. Alright? I’m begging you,” you smile.

“Well, I’m not gonna stop you, princess,” he sighs blissfully.

“Thank you… Now, just relax, Jayj,” you whisper as you curl your fingers around the elastic of his boxers, tugging them to his feet. “Holy shit,” you breathe as you take in his size, his long, thick cock achingly stiff. You find yourself getting a little nervous yourself; JJ’s dick is by far the biggest you’ve ever had, bigger than any toy you own. He looks down at you, a new hunger in his eyes.

Slipping your fingers under your bra straps, you slide them off your shoulders, looking at JJ through your lashes again. You draw your hands up to your cleavage, delicately drawing them over the top. Reaching your nipples, you trace small circles over the fabric.“You’re so beautiful, y/n,” he praises; pupils blow with lust.

“So are you.” You lean in, kitten-licking the precum off his head, making him shudder out a breath. He slams his eyes shut, mumbling to himself to ’chill the fuck out.’

Taking his cock in your hand, you pump slowly, your eyes on his. Your other hand massages your breast. ”You’re so big,“ you breathe as you slip your fingers under the lace of your bra slowly, toying with your nipple.

His lashes flutter, surprised to see silver sparkly jewelry. “Is that… Do you have your… I-” JJ’s voice trails off, mesmerized, watching you play with the both of you at the same time. His eyes drift slowly between his thick cock and you. ”Y/n. Oh my god,“ he groans.

Your hand retreats, moving to your back, unclasping your bra with a single hand. You let it fall forward, resulting in a downright pornographic moan from JJ as your breasts spill out, making you bite back a giggle.

You continue to touch your chest as you stroke his cock; pressing your cleavage together, pinching your nipples. JJ’s breathing increases with each passing second as he watches you.

He shifts his stance when you drop both hands, nearing his shaft. JJ groans when your tongue hits his warm skin again. You draw your mouth from the base of his length to his fat cockhead, your eyes burning into his.

His breath catches in his chest as you brush your tongue from side to side on his tip; JJ looking at you through hooded eyes, trying his best to keep them open. ”Y/n… So good. F-Fuck,“ he stammers.

Wrapping your lips around his cock you take him to the back of your throat, drawing off slowly, squeezing your lips, leaving little lipstick rings behind. ”You’re so – Fuck me. You’re so gorgeous,“ he sighs, eyeing the mess.

You bob back and forth slowly and sloppily, using your hand to stroke where your mouth won’t reach. Your other hand gropes his skin, tracing up his tanned body. Hollowing your cheeks, causing JJ’s abs to flex under your touch as you increase your suction. You can tell he’s about to lose control.

Drawing off slowly, you wrap your fingers around his cock, stroking quickly. Your breasts bounce with each thrust of the hand. ”Fuck, sweetness. You look too damn good. S-Shit. I’m gonna cum,“ he whines.

”Yeah?“ You groan. ”You gonna cum for me, Jayj?“

”Mmm-ph, fuck. Yes.“ You return your lips to JJ’s shaft, sucking his head, then dropping low, gagging when you take as much of him as you can. His brows knit tight. You feel his cock twitch on your tongue as little rivers of mascara run down your cheeks. “Y/n. Ugh… Shit,” he moans, huskily.

You draw him out of your mouth, pumping rapidly. JJ’s mouth falls agape, his chest rising and falling as he cums hard on your chest and tongue, ropes of pearlescent white landing on your soft skin as he paints your chest.

JJ watches carefully as you milk out the last bits of pleasure. You draw two fingers through his sticky spent, sucking them clean. “I’m dreaming… I am. Fuck me,” he groans. His eyes fall shut as he lets out a satisfied sigh; a wide smile settles on his lips as he tilts his head up to the ceiling, hands covering his face.

JJ reaches for you, taking you in his arms. “Goddamn… You’re really, really good at that, y/n Cameron,” he pants through a chuckle, cleaning your chest with a tissue from your desk. He tries his best not to fixate on your piercings. His fingers still find a way to brush over the top, watching as they harden. “Did I tell you you’re beautiful, y/n? You’re so fucking pretty…”

“You did,” you giggle, running your fingers through his fluffy blonde hair.

“And, you want me to do stuff to you?” He asks hopefully.

“I need it, Jayj.”

He smiles widely, taking you into his arms. “All I can think about is how good you’re going to taste, y/n,” JJ groans. You wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your chest into his. He walks over to the bed, setting you on top. Curling your thighs in his arms as he pulls your warmth to his face. JJ licks the length of your pussy, causing you to arch your back, JJ chuckling sinfully. The breath of his laugh on your wetness sends chills across your skin.

His tongue works slowly through your folds, mumbling and humming as he takes in your taste. His rough hands grope your inner thighs and ass, using his hold to bury himself deep. JJ quickly locks onto your clit; sucking and flicking. “Fucking hell, JJ,” you moan. He plunges in a finger, then two, working them in tandem with his mouth. He kept his ring on... You can feel the added friction, the chill of the metal as it glides in and out of your cunt.

Adding a slight curl, he finds your g-spot, making your mouth shift to a soft “o.” “Like that. Huh?” He mumbles.

“Right there, J,” you whimper, bringing your hands down to his hair, pulling it; drawing him closer to you as you feel yourself right on the edge. “Feels so good.”

He adds a third finger, quickly brushing his tongue from side to side, sealing the deal. You cry out in pleasure, knees pressing into JJ’s muscular shoulder as your orgasm washes over you. He kisses your inner thighs as he continues to pump his fingers quickly.

Your eyes drift open slowly as your body relaxes; JJ looking at you sweetly. “Fuck. That was beautiful, y/n,” he whispers.

“Shit,” you pant. “You’re very good at that, JJ Maybank,” you sigh, echoing his words through a blissed-out smile. JJ kisses you slowly, fingers raking through your hair as he rolls his hips, doing everything but slipping his stiff cock inside. He catches himself getting too caught up in the moment, stifling himself in the crook of your neck instead, breathing in your sweet perfume.

”You smell so damn good,“ he hums. ”You taste fucking sweet, and you look like heaven. S’not fair.“

”Thank you,“ you whisper as you kiss his face. Your hand cups his cheek, brushing it gently with your thumb as his baby blues fall to your lips. ”That was amazing. JJ.“

”Thanks, princess… Do you want to have – Shit. Umm… Alright. Do you need anythin’ else? I can throw in some other shit for you; Blueberry, Violet, Banana Jelly.“ There’s no mistaking his tone this time. He wants more. He was about to ask for it himself.

You wet your bottom lip, making his mouth part. ”Got some – I… Shit. I brought some of that Bubble Kush you like,“ he stumbles through a string of jumbled words, too distracted with how beautiful you look under him, tucked in his arms.

A smile twists on your face as you take a better look at him, catching the rolled joint behind his ear. “Why don’t we smoke a little?” You ask, plucking it out, resting it between your fingers.

”You’re my dream girl, y/n. You know that. Right?“ He whispers through a sweet smile.

The two of you crawl to the headboard, JJ snagging your lighter off the nightstand. You scoot a little closer as JJ blazes up, taking the first hit. He pinches the joint between his lips, grabbing for you, towing you closer as he puffs again, passing it to you. You straddle him, feeling his cock, hard between your thighs.

”Wow,“ he breathes, his large hands holding the small of your waist, drifting around to your bum before gripping it tightly. You cast your smoke up to the ceiling. His fingers dig into your ass, lips latching onto your nipple. He swirls his tongue, flicking it across your hardened flesh.

”Holy shit,“ you whimper.

”Mmm… The Kook Princess has nipple piercings. Huh?“ He mumbles drunkenly as he cups your tits. ”Ya know, I dream about this shit, y/n,“ he drawls. “I wasn’t kiddin’.”

”You do,“ you smile in reply as you rest your hands on his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat.

“This is so much better,” he rasps.

“I do too.”

“You do?”

“’Thought about you last night. And when I woke up in the morning. I’ve been plannin’ this all day, Jayj.”

He leans in, kissing you tenderly. “Been thinkin’ about you all day, too, princess.”

JJ’s tongue slips between your lips, rolling slowly with yours. “Promise you’ll come over tonight?”

“You’re not gettin’ away from me, baby girl.” You chuckle warmly against his lips, feeling a smile stretch on his as you hear the first bits of confidence in his voice. “You ready, doll?”

“Ready, J.” JJ takes a haul off the joint, quickly bringing his lips to yours. He exhales while you inhale, his lips even sweeter than before. You wrap your fingers around his cock, pumping slowly, feeling yourself throb.

He takes another hit, bringing his lips to yours, hovering as he exhales. You breathe him in; smoke circles in your lungs. JJ watches as you stroke, letting out a soft groan when you run your fingers through your pussy, working your wetness onto his shaft.

You take the joint off his hands, placing it between your lips as JJ slides his hands up your thigh, inching closer. You take a rip of your own. Leaning into him, you blow out your smoke as he inhales, his rough finger toying with your entrance.“You’re so fucking wet,” he mumbles against your lips before stuffing his fingers deep.

You close your eyes softly, tipping your head back as he starts to work on you again. “Holy shit,” you whine as you draw the joint to your lips for one last hit. You lace your hand around the back of his neck, pressing your lips and chest against him, exhaling the shot as his fingers rub little circles on your clit.

You stub out the joint before giving him your full focus again. He sits there waiting, hoping you’ll ask the question you both want to hear. ”Can you fuck me, JJ?“

A wide smile stretches across his lips, his half-lidded eyes sparkling on yours. “I can’t believe you just said that, princess. Say it again.”

“Can you fuck me, JJ Maybank?”

“Please.” He leans in nice and slow, teasing you this time as his lips hover close. His mouth presses against yours, hands wrapped around the back of your neck as he lowers the both of you to the mattress, rolling himself on top.

The kiss deepens fast, the two of you breathing rapidly. You moan onto his lips as his body weight presses you into your soft bed.

You grip his dick in your hands, guiding him closer, swirling his head through your soaked slit. Your thighs jolt as you massage your sensitive bud.

“Please,” you whisper. JJ’s eyes soften on yours; already on cloud 9, your delicate, sweet voice begging for him is almost too much.

JJ’s lips meet yours again, swallowing your moan as he thrusts deeply, bottoming you out, pain and pleasure creating an absolutely euphoric mixture as he fills you fully. “Fuck,” you mewl, pressing your hands gently against his hips.

“You okay, y/n?” He whispers.

“Shit… Yes – Yeah. I’m alright.” You breathe as his cock stretches you entirely. He hasn’t even moved, and you can already feel his tip rested against your sweet spot.

You grab his ass, clawing your fingers into the plush of his skin, guiding him to stroke. JJ starts to rock in and out, letting you adjust to his length. ”Harder, JJ. I can take it,“ you assure. JJ’s eyes roll back at your request.

“You’re so fucking tight. Jesus Christ,” he whines. He starts to pump into you quickly. His forehead pressed against yours, your lips hovering as he sets a rapid pace; hips, striking skin, clapping through your large room.

You draw your fingers up to his lips; JJ takes them into his mouth, sucking roughly. Bringing them down to your clit, you pleasure yourself as well, rolling your digits fast.

”Shit, y/n,“ JJ hums. You grab your thighs, pressing your knees to your chest, allowing him to stroke even deeper. Your adrenaline is still running high; your breathing rapid as you feel yourself starting to come undone again, tightening around him.

“Y/n…” JJ stutters. “I – Holy shit. You feel so fucking good. Are you-”

“Almost.”

“ I won’t stop… I promise,” he whispers.

“Cum inside me, Jayj.”

JJ grits his teeth, slowing down slightly; replacing his fingers with yours to make up for the change in tempo; brushing your clit skillfully.

“Fuck… You can’t talk like that, princess,” he chides through a smile. “Tryin’ not to bust. Alright?” His cock drags in and out. You rest your hand on your tummy, feeling it as well.

You look down, watching JJ’s thick dick glistening with your wetness. God, this feels so damn good. I don’t want to cum… I don’t want this to end. JJ picks up his gait, pumping deep into your core. “M’gonna ride you tonight, Jayj,” you moan.

“Y/n… Shh, baby. Please,” he shushes you through a breathy laugh; all his muscles wound tight. ”You’re killin’ me, honey-“

“Harder… M’gonna-”

KNOCK. KNOCK.

JJ doesn’t stop, knowing you’re close. He seals your mouth as shockwaves grip your body, muffled cries of pleasure against his hand. His eyebrows knit, teeth-gritting, throwing his head back as well, doing his best to stay silent. You feel his finish, the muscles in his body spasming as he fills you with his cum.

JJ lowers his lips to you, tongues rolling effortlessly with yours like you’d been together for years; his hands drift into your hair, tugging you closer. “Holy shit,” you giggle, breathlessly.

BANG. BANG. BANG. “Y/n?” Rafe calls. “Headin’ out in ten. You good?”

“M’good!” You sing, feeling your high catching up with you, doing your best not to giggle.

“Hey. You smokin’ in the there?”

“Sorry, dad.”

“Ha. Ha. Uh, yeah. Just did a line off the bathroom counter. I don’t give two fucks.

“Why don’t I just meet you there? Need to take a shower; get this smell off me?” JJ’s eyes widen with his smile.

“With me?” He whispers.

”Obviously,“ you giggle against his lips as he does the same.

“Oh, and Topper asked again if you’ll go with him,” Rafe rasps.

“Ew,” JJ winces in disgust, making you laugh.

“Don’t be a bitch, y/n. Alright? He likes you. I don’t know why.”

“Rude.”

“M’just kiddin’.”

“That was fuckin’ rude. Want me to kick his ass?” JJ whispers, making you roll your eyes and smile.

“Tell him no, Rafey. I have a date.”

JJ brushes your bottom lip with his thumb, smiling at you dreamily, his lips meeting yours one last time. ”You sure do, princess.“

my masterlist 🔮

my tag list 🎀

tags ⭐ @rafesthroatbaby @loserboysandlithium @oxpogues4lifexo @gri959 @sleepiibunniiii @daryldixon83 @hyperfixationgirl

Follow and turn on notifications for @curtainbangs-updates for fic drops

[mandos-mind-trick]

Heat of the Moment

Summary: It was supposed to be an easy mission, just a simple insurrection on a primitive planet. Nothing ever goes as planned, and Clone Force 99's civilian member finds herself in a sticky situation.

Pairing: Hunter x reader

Warnings: Sex pollen, medical inaccuracies, dub-con because sex pollen, hidden feelings, ROUGH sex, angst, biting, scratching, brief mentions of blood, excessive use of the word pussy, manhandling, injuries, confession of feelings, oral, smelling, unprotected sex, creampies galore, it's really rough guys please use caution

A/N: All hail the mighty sex pollen trope. I am here with another sex pollen fic that sort of got away from me. I didn't plan on it being this long but I have been rather long winded recently. Please heed the warnings since this is pretty intense and rough and yeah. Enjoy!

MASTERLIST

It happens suddenly. 

You’re crouched behind a rock, taking cover as you fire at droids. It was nothing more than an insurrection on a relatively primordial planet. Squashing insurrections was becoming your specialty. 

You were entirely focused on taking out droids when you felt the sudden prick on your neck. It was hardly more than a sting, like that of a bug, but enough to draw your attention from the fight. You reach up, fingers meeting something soft like feathers. You tug on it, feeling a small pinch as it’s tugged from your skin. You lean against the rock you had been taking cover behind, staring down at the brightly colored dart resting in your palm. 

Someone shot you with a dart. Your eyes scan the trees, looking for any sign of who could have shot you, but there’s nothing. No sign of anyone. 

Your arm flies up out of instinct, covering your face as sparks erupt right over your head. A droid falls at your side with a clang, Hunter sheathing his knife. You blink up at him, suddenly remembering you’re in the middle of a fight. You feel a bit like your brain is moving in slow motion, your fingers beginning to tingle. 

You blink as Hunter squats down next to you. He’s been speaking to you, but you haven’t been listening. His fingers close around yours, pulling your hand closer to him. His hands are warm, practically pulsing against your tingling fingertips. You’re still holding the dart in your palm, the bright plumage a stark contrast to your black glove. 

“Did this hit you?” He asks, taking the dart from your hand. 

You nod slowly, forcing your mouth closed. You hadn’t even realized it was hanging open. 

“Tech, do you know what it is?” Hunter asks, handing the dart off to Tech. 

You turn to look up at Tech. When had he arrived? You glance around, the other three standing around you. Was the fight over? When had they gotten here? 

Tech lowers his visor, studying the dart. “It will be difficult to discern.” He says, turning the dart in his hands. “There is not much knowledge on the inhabitants of this planet, or its native flora. I will have to do further testing to be certain.” Tech pockets the dart before kneeling down in front of you. “Are you experiencing any symptoms?” 

You stare at the visor, looking past it to his eyes. Gloved hands cup your face, tugging lightly at the skin below your eyes. You flinch under the touch, your skin tingling under the rough fabric of his gloves. 

“Slight dilation of the pupils. Body temperature is just higher than normal.” Tech says, studying your face. 

“‘M fine.” You murmur, suddenly snapping to the present. 

“Delayed cognitive processing.” Tech pulls away from you, your skin itching where his hands had been. “That could be concerning.” 

Hunter pushes himself to stand and you use the rock behind you to help get your feet under you. Your legs are twitching, feeling a bit like jelly as you attempt to steady yourself. “Tech, Echo, take her back to the ship. See if you can figure out what was on that dart. The rest of us will scan the area. Whoever shot her couldn’t have gotten far on foot.” 

You push yourself off the rock, wavering for just a moment before you steady yourself. It feels as if you’re moving in slow motion, each step taking every ounce of effort to move your feet forward. 

The trek back to the Marauder is slow going. 

Tech’s fingers are moving at light speed on his datapad, head down as you follow the trail back to the Marauder. Echo walks next to you, watching you cautiously. You’ve broken out in a sweat, your blacks sticking to your back under your light armor. It’s uncomfortable, the fabric almost unbearable as it chafes your skin. You’re not sure if it’s the heat blooming under your skin, or the unbearable feeling of the fabric, but you want to pull your clothes off. 

You stumble to a stop as Echo grabs your arm. You had been undoing the clasps of your armor without even realizing it. You frown, dragging a hand across your forehead to wipe the sweat off. “‘M hot.” You murmur. 

“We’ll never make it at this speed.” Echo says. “She’s going to drop before we even get there.” 

Tech pockets his datapad and suddenly your world is spinning. You nearly black out at the sudden movement, your head falling limply against a plastoid-covered shoulder. 

“Her temperature has spiked.” His voice rumbles through his chest, vibrating against your side. “The sooner we can reach the Marauder, the sooner we can combat her symptoms.” 

The world sways as Tech carries you back to the Marauder. The trip takes half the time it would have had you still been walking. Echo had been right, you likely wouldn’t have made it. You’re hot and exhausted even being carried. 

The air doesn’t feel any cooler in the Marauder as Tech sits you in a chair. Your head is swimming, fingers fumbling to remove your armor. You can’t stand it. It’s heavy and it’s pressing your blacks tighter against your skin. Echo helps you remove each piece, setting it out of the way as he runs a scan. Tech works on scanning the dart, trying to figure out what it was coated with to see how best to help you. 

Echo straps a monitor to your arm, your vision still swimming as you try to focus on his helmet. You still feel like the world is moving in slow motion, even just lifting your hand feels like it’s taking every ounce of effort. 

“Hmm,” Tech hums, staring at the screen. “There’s no record of any of the compounds pulled from the dart. I’ll need to run a further analysis to see if I can break down their individual components.” 

“Well, whatever you have to do, do it fast.” Echo says. “Her heart rate is spiking again.” 

Tech turns to look at you, adjusting his goggles. “We may need to consider a medical center. They will have the resources to keep her stable.” 

You swallow thickly. Even in your half delirious state, you know that what Tech is suggesting isn’t coming lightly. You could deteriorate faster than he can figure out what was unwittingly injected into your body. And if there was no cure...a medical center would be better prepared to search for one and keep you alive while they did it. 

Heat begins blooming under your skin once more as you sit and wait, your vision swimming. The monitor on your arm begins to beep rapidly, your hands and feet starting to tingle. You feel a bit like you’re floating, like your brain is leaving your body behind. 

“...get back to the ship...condition deteriorating...” Tech’s voice fades into the background, your eyes fluttering shut. 

***

There’s a hand on your face when you snap back into reality. The sweat sliding down your temples is uncomfortable, practically burning your skin. The rough fabric of the glove is too much and not enough at the same time. You blink up at the helmet hovering in front of your face. 

“...bacta’s working...waking up...” 

The voices float in and out around you. You feel hot, hotter than you had been when you passed out. Your blacks are almost unbearable, between the heat trapped under them from your skin and the intense sensation of the fabric against your skin, you’re ready to strip down right there. 

Hands grasp yours, stilling their movements. 

You had been pulling your blacks off, the top half undone and untucked from the bottoms. You weakly try to pull your hands free, but Hunter’s grip on you is tight. He’s breathing heavily, the sound of his breaths just barely audible through his helmet. You can feel the subtle vibration in the seat under you as the Marauder hurtles through hyperspace. 

“‘M hot.” You whine, still trying to fight Hunter’s grasp on you. 

“I know.” He says, voice raspy through his helmet. “Your fever’s going down.” He slowly releases your hands and they fall limply to your sides again. He turns away from you to face Tech at the other console. “Are you any closer?” His tone is sharp, shoulders tense. Even in your delirious state you can tell he’s on edge. 

You’ve spent a lot of time staring at Hunter. You could read him like a novel, far better than you could read the others. He had been one of the most welcoming of the group when you had been forced to join, though finding your place among them had taken some time. They’ve been together their whole lives and suddenly someone else is being thrown into the mix, a nat-born and a woman to boot. You had spent a lot of time studying him, watching him even when you weren’t in the middle of a battle. How easily he moves, how graceful he is, how aware of everything he is. The dexterity of his fingers and how easily he can wield a knife. 

You may have developed some feelings for your Sergeant, but you would never admit it. He’s never shown any interest in that at all, so you would hold your peace. You’d suffer in silence, stuck doing nothing but fantasizing when everyone else was asleep. 

A wave of heat burns through your body, making you wince. You’re uncomfortable, a cramping sensation beginning in your lower abdomen. You wince, hissing out a breath as you curl in on yourself. 

“You alright?” Echo asks, putting a hand on your shoulder. 

“Hurts.” You gasp out, tensing your whole body as you wait for the cramping to stop. 

Sweat is pooling in your underwear and between your legs, the fabric of your blacks beginning to chafe uncomfortably. You desperately want to be naked. Anything to relieve some of the sensation. 

You let out a shaky breath as the sensation begins to subside, but now there’s a slight pulsing between your legs. 

“You’re developing new symptoms.” Tech says, staring at you. “What did it feel like?” 

“Cramping.” You say, pushing your hands into the spot right above your pelvis where you had felt it. “Here.” 

Tech stares at you contemplatively for a moment before he spins back around to the console, typing away rapidly. 

You shift in your seat, gasping quietly as your thighs press together. Your pussy is throbbing, underwear no longer damp from just sweat anymore. You should tell Tech about this development as well, but you’re afraid to. How do you bring something like that up to someone who was essentially your coworker, much less in a room full of your other coworkers? 

Oh yeah, by the way, I’m also feeling very horny. That wouldn’t be an awkward conversation at all. 

Your blacks continue to chafe your skin, sticking in sweaty places and rubbing others. You can’t stand it. It’s all too much, every sensation against your body too much. “Kriff it.” You breathe, tugging the top of your blacks off. “I can’t.” 

The soaked fabric hits the floor with a plop, leaving you in nothing but your breastband. Echo quickly straightens up, turning his gaze to the back of the ship. Wrecker clears his throat, turning his back to you very quickly. You’ve all seen each other in various states of undress before. It wasn’t like this was that kind of situation. You were potentially dying. 

If you’re going to die, you’re going to do it comfortably, even if that comes at the expense of your poor squadmates. 

Even your breastband is almost too much, nipples hard and poking at the thick fabric. Every breath is like torture, every small sensation only adding to the throbbing between your legs. Even the vibration of the seat, something you normally didn’t even notice, is almost too much. 

“Kriff,” Hunter breathes, popping his helmet off. His forehead is beading with sweat under the bandana, strands of hair sticking to his face and neck. 

“You alright, Hunter?” Wrecker asks, watching his sergeant with rapt attention. Everyone is staring at him now, not just you. 

“No!” He snaps, his helmet hitting the floor with a clang. “I can smell it! I can smell her!” He points at you. 

The entire ship falls silent, no one moving for a moment. You hadn’t even thought about the fact Hunter could probably smell you. He’d likely known before you had how aroused you were becoming. The thought has your face flushing. You’d pictured him many times burying his face in your pussy, breathing in your scent from its source, praising you on how good you smell, how good you taste. 

The thoughts have your pussy throbbing even more. 

Tech stands from the console, turning to Echo, speaking quietly despite the fact Hunter could still hear him. “Take her into the cockpit and seal the door. Don’t open it, no matter what you hear.” 

Echo nods, scooping you into his arms before carrying you into the cockpit. His scomp is cold against your back, but it feels good, like a brief respite from the fire burning beneath your skin. He sits you down in the copilot’s seat before he locks the door, sealing you off from the others. 

He takes a seat in the pilot’s chair, checking the navigation. You’re still a few hours out from the nearest medical center. 

Are you going to make it that long? 

“I have a theory.” Tech’s voice comes through the comm, drawing your attention from your thoughts. “I’ve managed to identify one of the chemical agents found on the dart. The others are a mix of pollen from plants native to the planet. It appears to be causing an excessive release of estrogen from the hypothalamus.” 

“What does that mean?” Hunter’s voice is faint through the comms, but you can still hear the strain in it. 

“She’s experiencing a state of hyper-arousal. As more and more estrogen is released, her state of arousal continues to increase. That is why her heart rate and temperature continue to spike, and why she is in such a state of discomfort.” Tech states, far too calmly for the situation. 

“What do we do?” Wrecker asks. 

“She will die, if the effects are not reversed. She will suffer brain damage if her body temperature continues to rise, and the prolonged tachycardia will cause heart failure.” Tech says. 

You gulp, your skin starting to prickle. So you are dying. Dying from horniness. 

“Bacta will not work, so long as her hypothalamus is in a state of dysfunction. It can lessen the fever and help slow her heart rate, but it will only be effective for so long.” Tech continues. “There is no known remedy, since this compound has been entirely unknown to science until now.”

“Why would they do this?” Hunter asks, his voice louder. You can hear the agitation in his tone. “Why would they give her something like this?” 

“I am uncertain.” Tech answers. “A possible explanation is this is a common aphrodisiac used for mating purposes. The natives of the planet may be more tolerant to the compound. Perhaps they were unwelcoming of both us and the droids and this was their only means of protecting themselves.” 

“And she’s the easiest target since she doesn’t wear a helmet.” Crosshair says.  

“Precisely.” Tech says. “It also explains why you are being affected as well. Beyond being able to sense her arousal, it is likely the compound is causing her to release a pheromone that is too faint for us to sense. But for someone with heightened senses...” 

“Kriff.” Hunter curses, his voice sounding strained. “What do we do? How do we fix it?” 

“It is possible a release of other chemicals may slow the hypothalamus’ excretion of estrogen enough to stave off the symptoms until we can reach a medical center.” Tech says. 

“How do we do that?” Hunter asks. 

“An orgasm would be the simplest way.” Tech answers. 

Your cheeks burn again. Hearing Tech speak so lewdly is strange to you. None of them had ever even made jokes, much less shown any interest. It had been jarring compared to other similar situations you’ve been in. Five men alone on a ship with one woman and not even one whistle or comment or passing of the hand. 

“Kriff it.” You breathe, tugging your pants off. Echo quickly focuses his gaze out the viewport as you stand, moving to the back of the cockpit. “Just...don’t turn around.” You say, laying yourself out on the floor. 

The metal is cold against your skin, offering a respite to the heat for a moment. You slip a hand in your underwear, peeling it from your soaked pussy. You sigh quietly as you pass your fingers over your clit, toes curling in response to finally giving your desperate pussy some attention. 

You bite your lip to keep quiet for Echo’s sake as you slowly work yourself up. Your legs start to shake, that cramping feeling starting to build in your stomach once more and you huff out a sigh. You withdraw your hand as the pleasure fades, taken over by the intense cramping. Fluid soaks your panties as your pussy begins to throb even more. You force a hand under the fabric once more, desperately rubbing at your clit but you can’t quite reach the peak. No matter how badly your pussy throbs for attention, you cannot bring yourself to cum.

You huff out another sigh, pushing yourself to stand. There’s a wet spot on the floor in the shape of your body, but you don’t give it a second glance. You’re so far past modesty at this point. You lean over Echo, hitting the button for the comms. 

“It’s not working.” Your voice has a bite to it, not unlike Hunter’s had. “I can’t...finish.” 

“Hunter has been unsuccessful as well.” Tech says. 

A thought crosses your mind. Heat pools in your stomach, another cramp starting to form. Your skin tingles, heat radiating from you so hot you’re sure Echo can feel it. You feel dizzy, the exertion of trying to make yourself cum hitting you suddenly and your knees buckle. You sink to the floor, curling in on yourself. Your heart is pounding in your chest, terrifying you that it might stop at any moment. 

“Let him fuck me.” You murmur, breathing through the intense cramping and the throbbing in your pussy. 

“What?” Echo glances down at you. 

“Let him fuck me!” You cry, looking up at him with teary eyes. “It’s the only way we can both get help right now. Tech said it’s probably used for mating. I don’t think we can fix it any other way.” 

The ship is silent except for the quiet hum of the engine. Tears of exhaustion and pain blur your vision. You’re desperate, legs shaking from the intense throbbing of your pussy and the cramping in your stomach. You just want to feel normal again. 

“Mesh’la.” Hunter’s deep voice crackles through the comms. He’s called you that before a couple times. You don’t know what it means. None of them will tell you. “I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“I’m already hurting.” You sob, tears burning as they slide down your cheeks. “Kriff, it hurts so much!” Your sob cuts off in a cry as another wave of heat and pain rolls through your body. “Please, Hunter. I don’t want to die.” 

The comms pick up quiet cursing and shuffling on the other side before they go quiet. You push yourself to stand, using the chairs and the wall for support as you move to the door, unlocking the cockpit. You step out on shaky legs, beads of arousal sliding down the insides of your thighs, mixing with the sweat. Wrecker, Crosshair, and Tech file silently into the cockpit, the door sliding closed behind you. 

You’re left standing alone, Hunter on the opposite end of the ship. He’s ditched his armor leaving him in nothing but his blacks, the bottoms half hanging open. His shoulders are tense and squared, brows furrowed as he stares at you. 

“Hunter,” Your voice wavers, tears still pricking your vision. “I need you to know something before we do this.” 

This isn't how you wanted to tell him, how you wanted this to play out. You wanted him to come to you, to admit any feelings he might have, even if they’re just lust. You would never force yourself on him, reveal feelings you weren’t sure would be reciprocated. You would suffer in silence if it meant keeping the integrity of the team intact. 

His hands curl into fists as you take a step closer, nostrils flaring. You can only imagine what you smell like to him right now. He’s not in his right mind. He would have avoided your gaze, averted his from your almost naked body. Instead his eyes trail your form, watching one of the beads of arousal or sweat slide down to your knee. 

“I’ve had feelings for you for a while now.” You continue, ignoring the way his gaze starts to turn almost predatory, his eyes going almost black. “I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t know if you felt the same way. I didn’t want things to end up being awkward.” You sniffle, continuing to approach him slowly. “I didn’t want it to happen like this.” 

“Kriff, mesh’la.” He breathes, staring at you. He takes a deep breath, eyes screwing closed as he practically shudders. “I know. I’ve known for a while. Your heart rate...the arousal.” He swallows thickly. “I could sense it all. I-I’m your sergeant. I’m not supposed to take advantage of you like that.” 

“Is it really taking advantage of someone that wants it too?” Your voice shakes, more tears sliding down your cheeks.

Another wave of heat rolls beneath your skin, making you cramp. Your chest hurts from how hard your heart has been pumping. You’re scared. You cry out from the pain, knees buckling as you begin to fall forward.  

You don’t hit the floor. 

Arms wrap around you, pulling you tight against a sturdy chest. A groan rumbles through your body, Hunter’s face pressing into your neck. He inhales deeply, his tongue darting out to taste the sweat-soaked skin. He sighs out a long breath, making you shiver. His hands smooth up your back, his skin bare and rough against yours. 

You let out a whine as he mouths at your throat, legs still shaking. You’re not sure how much longer you can hold out. You’re starting to get dizzy again, the bacta wearing off as your fever comes back full force. 

“Please.” You beg, beginning to go limp against him. “Make it stop. Make it better.” 

He sinks his teeth into your shoulder and you let out a weak whimper at the sensation. “Gonna make you feel good.” He groans, voice rough and strained. He’s suffering almost as much as you are. “Could smell you as soon as I got on board.” 

He guides you onto the floor of the ship, letting you lay there limply. You feel sick again, not unlike how you had felt when you had first been shot with the dart. Your pussy is still throbbing, desperate for any sort of relief, but you’re beginning to feel it in the rest of your body again. You’re afraid. If this doesn't work...you may not come out on the other side. 

Hunter slips his hands around your back, practically ripping your breastband in an attempt to get it off. Your nipples pebble in the cool air in the ship, your breasts feeling heavy. Hunters thumbs tease your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. You whimper, the pain beginning to ease as his hands tease you, every touch like electricity on your heated skin. 

He curses, sliding his hands down your sides. You shift your hips what little you can, helping him rid you of your panties. They land with a wet plop somewhere behind you, your legs spreading wide open for him. You’re slick and soaked, your pussy throbbing for him. His hands slide down your thighs, keeping your legs parted so far it’s almost painful but you don’t care. 

He leans down, breath fanning across the damp skin before he presses his face against your pussy, inhaling deeply. He lets go of your thighs, letting them close around his head as he stays there, face buried in your pussy as he breathes you in. You lift your head as much as you can, staring at him as he lays there, eyes closed in bliss. Your cheeks warm, having imagined this moment several times. 

Those fantasies could never compare to it actually happening. 

You let out a quiet sound as his eyes open, boring into yours. His gaze is primal and clouded with lust as he stares at you, shifting his head just enough that he can drag his tongue through your folds. 

Your fingers could never make you feel the way he does, not even when you had tried to get yourself off in the cockpit. You could cry from the pleasure as he drags his tongue through your folds, tasting the wetness your body has been producing in desperate need for someone to touch you. 

It’s obscene the way his tongue parts your lips, dragging from your hole to the top where he flicks it across your clit. You could cum just like this, just from watching him lick you. His gaze stays locked with yours as his hands slip under your ass, lifting your hips just slightly as he lowers his head, tracing your lips with his tongue before he sinks it into your pussy. 

His nose presses against your clit as he thrusts his tongue as deep as he can, your pussy fluttering around him in relief of finally having something inside you. His growl vibrates through your entire body, your hips shifting against his face. You gasp at the sensation of his nose dragging across your clit, shifting your hips again. 

He continues to fuck you with his tongue as you ride his face, your upper body falling limp against the floor. It’s not enough, not nearly enough to make you cum, but it’s the best you’ve felt since you got hit with the dart. 

“Please, Hunter.” You beg, continuing to grind desperately on his face. “Please, I need you inside me.” 

He groans, lifting his face from your pussy. It’s shining with your juices, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. “Taste so good.” His voice is deep and rough from his own need. “Such a sweet little pussy.” 

Your fingers pluck at your nipples as he strips out of his blacks, desperate to keep any sort of sensation going to abate the pain you know is waiting if you stop. You stare unabashedly at his hard cock as it's revealed to you. He’s not very long, but what he lacks in length, he makes up for in girth. You lick your lips, legs splaying open in invitation. 

You need him inside you now. 

He slides back in between your legs, meeting no resistance as he slides into you. You’ve been waiting for this moment, desperate for it for so long now. He folds his body over yours as he fills your needy pussy, the sensation of his sweaty skin against yours too much and not enough at the same time. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer, so tight there’s almost no space between your bodies. You want to devour him, to pull him completely inside you so you’re one being. 

Your mind feels hazy as he begins to move, fucking into you with short, sharp thrusts. He buries his face in your neck as he fucks you, teeth sinking into your skin. It’s animalistic, the sounds he’s making, the wild way he’s fucking into you. You can do nothing but wrap yourself around him and hold on, letting him take what he needs from you, letting him ease the ache within you. 

Your vision nearly goes white as you’re thrown into your first orgasm, walls clamping down so tightly around him his rhythm stutters, cock pulsing inside you as you spasm around him. Your nails dig into his skin, drawing blood as white hot pleasure burns through you. 

It burns hotter than the fever that had been plaguing you, hotter than the drug could ever make you feel. You can’t feel anything but him for a moment, tears leaking out of your eyes as you ride out your first high.

He’s staring down at you, a rivulet of blood trailing down his chin as your vision begins to clear. There’s blood dripping from his sides, mixing with the sweat on your skin from where your nails had ripped at his skin. Despite your blinding orgasm, your pussy is still throbbing, the heat beneath your skin still burning hot. 

You’re nowhere near done. 

Hunter sits up and grabs your hips, flipping you onto your stomach. You hit the floor with a thud, narrowly missing smashing your face into the hard metal. He forces your hips up, shaky legs keeping your ass raised for him. He kneels behind you, dragging his cock through your messy pussy before he’s sinking back in, filling your desperate cunt once more. 

It truly feels animalistic now, forced into such a primal position, unable to do anything but hold yourself up as he relentlessly fucks into you. His hands are bruising at your hips, blunt nails biting into your skin. He curses, tightening his grip until it’s almost painful as he stills, cock pulsing inside you as he fills you with his cum. 

You moan from the sensation of being filled with him, eyes rolling back as your own orgasm ripples through you. He’s still hard inside you, even as the last spurts of him hit your walls. 

This is far from over. 

Hunter keeps you in this position, picking up his pace once more. He can do nothing but grunt and growl as he fucks into you, nothing but whimpers and whines leaving your throat as he drags orgasm after orgasm from you, filling you over and over with his seed. 

Your knees begin to ache, sensations coming back to you as he releases your hips, tangling a hand in your hair instead. Your body drops, his following as he pins you to the floor, holding you in place as he seeks one last orgasm. There’s a pool of drool under your cheek, the floor a mess of blood and cum and sweat. 

His hand tightens in your hair painfully, gripping onto you as he cums one last time, forcing your body into one more orgasm with him. You both lay there panting, the heat under your skin beginning to fade. The hand in your hair begins to loosen until it’s sliding out, planting itself next to your head. 

“Hunter?” You whisper, voice cracking and rough. 

He’s breathing heavily, still inside you, still trapping you against the floor. “Mesh’la.” His voice cracks, heavy with emotion. 

You grab his wrist before he can pull away, shifting your hips until he slips out of you. You wince at the sensation, pussy sore from the pounding it had just taken. You feel weak and sore, limbs shaking as you roll yourself over onto your back so you can stare up at him. 

You can see it in his face, the reality beginning to set in, the gravity of the situation hitting him. You’re both a mess of blood and bruises and fluids. You try not to look down, try to keep your focus on his face, and his focus on yours. 

You lift shaking hands to his cheeks, his bandana somewhere on the floor beside you. You brush his hair from his face, the strands soaked with sweat. “One more time.” You whisper, tracing the skull tattoo. “One more time.” 

You can’t explain it, can’t give a reason but you don’t need to. He reaches down, jerking his cock a couple of times before he sinks back into you. You close your eyes, your face pinching a bit at the soreness. You’re not going to be able to walk or sit comfortably for a few days. You’re not likely to forget this. 

He stays still as he seats himself inside you, allowing his body to press against yours. Your arms wrap around his neck, holding him against you as he buries his face in your shoulder. You hold him as he begins to move, slow and deep, a contrast to what he had just done to your body. 

Your toes curl as raw pleasure burns through you, not like it had before, not brought on by the drug in your system. The heat that blossoms under your skin feels natural, feels normal. How it should feel. You pull his face from your shoulder, keeping his eyes on you as he fucks into you. Despite the discomfort, despite the pain, despite the ache deep in your bones you can feel the heat blooming in your stomach. 

“Thank you,” You whisper, his head lowering towards your face. 

For a moment you think he might kiss you but he doesn’t, letting his forehead rest against yours. You close your eyes, basking in the pleasure, basking in the feeling of him inside you, really inside you. Not the desperation you had been feeling, the need for him to utterly destroy you to keep you from dying. 

Just for a moment you can imagine what it would be like if he were yours. If you had been brave enough to tell him before. If your fantasies were more than just fantasies. 

You spasm around him as you cum, holding him tightly against you. He groans your name as he cums, cock twitching weakly inside you. You’re both exhausted, both feeling the effects of the drug wearing off. 

You hold onto him knowing this can’t happen again, knowing you’ll likely be putting in transfer paperwork as soon as you land. Tears prick your vision as you feel yourself fading, body giving out from exhaustion. 

***

It’s too bright when you wake. 

You hate medical centers and their harsh sterile environments. The GAR’s are no better, in fact they might be worse. You’re sticky from dried bacta, something tugging on your arm as you try to move it. Your fingers make out the shape of an IV moments before they’re gently eased away. 

“Don’t go pulling that out now.” A familiar voice says. 

“Wasn’t gonna.” You manage to get out, your tongue feeling swollen and throat dry. Your voice sounds like you’ve swallowed sand, rough and weak. 

You crack your eyes open, squinting against the harsh light of the medical station. The cot you’re on is hard and uncomfortable, and the blanket is scratchy against your sensitive skin. It was like no one cared about the comfort of the clones, even in a vulnerable place such as a medical station. 

You squint up at the reg medic above you, his head bowed as he stares at a datapad. You cast a quick glance around your bed. You’re slightly disappointed to find you’re alone. They’ve probably already left. You’ll be handed a transfer request as soon as you’re sitting up, you’re sure of it. 

You can’t blame them. 

The medic goes through a series of tests, explaining your injuries and what they had found left over in your bloodstream when you’d arrived, and what they had done to fix it. You should be perfectly fine, aside from some lingering soreness that could last as long as a few hours as the bacta finishes working its way through your system. 

You finally get some water and rations, downing almost a whole pitcher. Every time the door opens, you half expect it to be someone in command coming to give you your new orders. You wonder where they’ll put you. On a base somewhere? In with a larger battalion? Or were you going right back to Coruscant where you started? 

A doctor comes in to check you, double checking all your tests and vitals are normal. You withhold details, not sure how much the others had said, if they’d said anything at all. Regardless, you wouldn’t throw them under the bus, even if they did leave you here. 

“Your squad is waiting in the hangar.” The doctor says, signing off on the datapad. “They were banned from the upper levels after they started a fight with a medic who was trying to keep them from following you into the exam room.” 

You stare at the doctor with wide eyes, not expecting that. So they hadn’t left you? They had even started a fight for you? 

“You’re cleared to go.” The doctor says. 

You blink at her for a moment before your mind catches up. You’re still in shock that they want to keep you on the squad, much less that they’d waited for you. You’re surprised the GAR hadn’t sent them on another mission while you were recovering. 

You change into the scratchy clothes the medical station laid out before you before you make your way through the maze to the hangar. You’re nervous on the lift ride down, your stomach churning, threatening to bring back up the rations. You could go straight to command and ask for a transfer yourself. You could ask to never have to see them again, never have to face them after everything. 

But they had waited for you. 

Were they waiting to serve you transfer papers themselves? Pass over your belongings before telling you to get out of their sight? You’re nearly sick as the lift slows to a stop, opening to the hangar. You step off, legs shaking as you scan the ships until you find the Marauder. 

You’ve convinced yourself to turn back around and board the lift when your name is called, loudly, echoing in the hangar. People stop and stare, your cheeks warming in embarrassment. 

Wrecker is waving his arm, towering over the civilians and regs milling about in the hangar. You can’t run for it now. You take a breath, letting it out before you weave through the crowd towards the Marauder. 

You’re scooped off your feet as soon as you’re in sight, joints cracking as Wrecker picks you up in a hug and spins you. You yelp in shock, not expecting such a welcoming response. 

“Easy, Wrecker.” Crosshair says. “You don’t want to send her back to a bacta tank, do you.” 

“Sorry.” Wrecker sets you back on your feet, patting your back a little too hard, nearly knocking the air from your lungs. “I’m just glad you’re alright.” 

“Yes, I read over the doctor’s notes.” Tech says. “I am pleased with the results of your tests.” 

You can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips. “Good to see you too, Tech.” 

Your body floods with shame as you turn to Echo, remembering what you had put him through in the cockpit in your desperation to end your suffering. 

“Don’t.” He says, putting a hand on your shoulder. “You needed to try. I’m just sorry it didn’t work.” 

You nod, squeezing his hand. “Thank you for looking out for me.” 

He squeezes your shoulder again as you glance around. Hunter is nowhere to be found. Your brows pull together in a frown. Was he still being checked out? Did someone spill? Had they figured out what had happened and he was being reprimanded and being sent to be decommissioned. No, that wouldn’t be right. The others wouldn’t be so happy. They likely wouldn’t have let you walk out of there either. 

“He’s on board.” Crosshair says, rolling his eyes. “Wallowing in his own self-made misery.” 

They part the way for you, letting you walk up the steps into the Marauder. It feels different now, after what had happened. It’s been cleaned, likely meticulously by Tech while they waited. It hasn’t smelled this decent probably since it came off the line. 

You walk through the cockpit into the hull. Hunter has his back to you, standing near the gunner’s chair. You approach slowly, knowing he knows you’re there. You can’t hide anything from him. 

“Hunter?” You ask quietly, the others loading up behind you. 

“Was it true?” He asks, turning his head slightly to look over his shoulder. “What you said?” 

You know what he’s talking about. You wanted him to know before, while there was still a shred of sanity. You wanted him to know in case he remembered. You didn’t want him to feel guilty. 

You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Yes. All of it.” 

His shoulders slump, his head turning away from you. “It’s frowned upon.” He says. “We’re not supposed to fraternize.” 

“Since when do you follow rules?” You say, voice shaking just a little. 

His back straightens just a little, a laugh huffing from his chest. “You’re right.” 

He turns, crossing the distance between you quickly. He takes you in his arms, pressing his lips against yours. You kiss him back, wrapping your arms around his neck. His lips are soft against yours, teeth nibbling at your lower lip. 

“You could at least wait until we take off.” Crosshair sighs behind you. 

You giggle against Hunter’s lips, his hand lifting from your back for a moment and you can imagine the rude sign he had just flashed at Crosshair. You pull him back to you, pressing your lips against his once more. 

Taglist:

@kaminocasey @rosechi @mxkyrie @bobaprint @star-trekker-0013 @padawancat97 @bamfahsoka @rain-on-kamino @thrawnspetgoose @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @wolffegirlsunite @dukeoftheblackstar @starrylothcat @blueink-bluesoul @freesia-writes @anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar @dystopicjumpsuit @littlemissmanga @madameminor @eris-k @clio3kantarella @moonlightwarriorqueen @sleepingsun501 @originalcollectionartistry @maddiedrmr @idontgetanysleep @clonemedickix @523rdrebel @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @multi-fan-dom-madness @sinfulsalutations @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator @sunshinesdaydream @mooncommlink

[another-identityofmine]

Elvis first time eating pussy?

homely girl; 60s sarge elvis ☁️🫣

summary: his first time giving 🤞

a/n: I’m so sorry that it took CENTURIES. (And it’s prolly not that good *not to be a compliment fisher* but my mind was dizzy at this point 🤧) side note: I’m kinda taking from a pic of a page I’ve read way back about how Elvis used to despise stories of going down on women before doing it and falling in love with it !!

********

He used to despise this, no no no, he still does, he clicks to himself

but it was only for an attempt, a shot at the dart…how did it get to this?

By the time he gently pulled off your panties, you, his new girl, he suddenly became absorbed in interest.

he saw the prettiest thing he didn’t know existed…and “despised” this? Yeah no, never ever thinking that again.

The first that sought his eyes, was your curly dark pubic hairs. His cock immediately awaken, starting to firmly harden as he glares at every thick wiry strand, and he lets out a stuttering breath.

He saw your pretty flushed skin, his bottom lip glistening from his lick, before being caught at his teeth. His blue eyes wander down your vulva, capturing the sight of sticky, damp lips of pretty pink skin. And his eyes immediately find your lil hole, letting out a soft groan…he’s been fucking this pretty thing and not batting an eyelash to what was going on here?

Your breathing staggers a bit, watching his plumped, gelled black and looped hair above your tummy, and feeling his eyes watch you.

“S-s’anything wrong?” You perk up and prop yourself up on your elbows.

his eyes shoot up to meet yours and he forgot that you were there. Well erm in a term-

“no! No baby, nothing is wrong. S’the opposite dollface, fuck y-you didn’t wanna tell me what I was missing?” He shakes his head in disbelief and glaring down at your pussy with a growing hunger.

You only shrug, blushing deeply at how he seems to be so stuck on your most private parts…

Then in curiosity, he leans down his a little bit more, hovering over your cunt and his warm breath on your thigh, your thighs twitch a little.

“O-okay hun, I’ve got a plan. I-I’m gonna fumble around here and you tell me how it feels m’kay?” He glances up to meet your eyes for your consent, and you nod and hum an okay.

when he then gently pressed his fine plump lips to your pubic mound, peppering that in sweet kisses to then bend his neck and reach down to your slit.

you giggle and hum at the sensation, hearing him mumble to himself as he pours in almost uncertainty. “Heard the guys say sumthin’ bout tongue… so here goes nothin’, doll.” He whispers out before dragging his hot, wet tongue up your slit.

You immediately let out a long whine, scrunching your face in pleasure and Elvis glances up to look at your face. Contorted in pure bliss.

Ignoring the foreign taste of your tangy, honeyed savored arousal, white and sticky on his tongue, he’s eager to have more sounds…they were so pretty, and he can’t believe he made you do them.

Coming up with a mental mission, he closes his eyes and just lets his tongue wander and flick, no idea what he’s doing but your squeals and squeaks are feeding him.

with you laying there, panting softly and whimpering prettily, he fluttered his doll lashes up to capture your eyes with his blue orbs, and then connecting eye contact with your sloppy cunt.

propping himself up as if going in for another dive, he holds your thighs softly on the outside and hugs them gingerly, humming in approval at the position.

And in some way…your pussy is more open and spread to his use.

Watching as your cunt glistens with every heaving breath you take and your erected nipples darted to the air, he glances down at your small lil opening…maybe if he just stuck his tongue in there?-

diving down with no warning, he shoves his whole pink muscle into your vagina. Elvis lets out a loud, muffled groan into your cunt that vibrates and leaves you clutching at your hair and the pillows.

“Oh my, a-ah, Elvis! W-what ah” you pant out, squirming around as his arms tighten the grip on your thighs and he closes his eyes in focus, becoming in love at the taste, the scent, the whole arousing tension.

“Elvis, Elvis, Elvis.” His name comes off your lips like a prayer and it has his tongue fucking in and out of your needy, gummy gushy pink walls that engulf and take him so nicely. How you scream his name, has his hips rocking into the mattress that you lay above.

he doesn’t know what he’s doing, just sticking his tongue in and out in a fast pace, the same pace he uses as he ruts into the soft plush bed. “Fuck” he growls into your pussy and he doesn’t notice your screams in pleasure, the flooding of your sweet syrup dripping down his cheeks…from your orgasm. It’s all blocked out.

he just needs everything. He fuels himself, rutting his hips into the matress with every dripping white syrup that rolls onto his tongue, and his thighs clench around his own cock at the way your hungry, gummy vagina walls swallow and hug his tongue, the way you taste so fucking divine on his tongue.

he’s so into the mission, that you have tears of overstimulating pure bliss running down your cheeks, and when you tangle your pretty fingers into his thick black locks, he growls and grunts, panting and breathing in your natural scent and taste of your woman hood, clinging your thighs to hug his head as he then slamming his hips into the mattress that the vibration shakes you.

Hot cum springs down his slacks but that doesn’t matter, not right now. You pull and whine at his hair as, nearly pulling out his precious locks, before he finally pulls away and follows your hand becuase since it’s his first time eating out his first meal, he doesn’t know when to stop. Even when his girl’s wall is clenching around his tongue like a vice.

He’s breathless and panting, your white shining arousal down his chin and dripping down to his shirt collar, long strings of saliva that mingles with your nectar.

he’s found a new obsession.

homely girl.

•••••••••

taglist: @jhoneybees@your-nanas-love@pomtherine@atleastpleasetelephone@lustnhim @jkdaddy01

note: ugh okay, writing a whole ass fic might be tiresome for many but the shit that tires me out is the tags, so if anyone can please lend a hand, write any tags that you feel fits this!

[sebastiansluts]

I think you would be really good at this.

What if you're with Sebastian and you've never had a guy go down on you before so you're scared because you don't know what it will feel like or if you will taste good to him. How do you think he would act?

I hope I did this justice!!!

Sebastian Stan x Reader; first time oral sex f receiving

ANY HATE WILL BE DELETED THIS IS A JUDGEMENT FREE ZONE DON'T LIKE, DON'T INTERACT; MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+

You and Sebastian were making out on the couch, him laying on top of you, pressing you down into the cushions. He kept trying to move down your body but you dragged him back up to your lips every time. The last time you did, he sighed and gently pulled away from you, pressing up on his hands and trying to look into your eyes, but you wouldn't meet his gaze.

"Baby, you gotta talk to me," Sebastian murmured, lifting one hand to your cheek, forcing you to look at him. "Can't and won't do anything without your 'okay' babe."

You felt tears well up in your eyes and he looked concerned as you blurted out, "I'm scared!"

"Of what, baby girl, I promise it won't hurt," Sebastian soothed, cupping your cheek and looking down at you with furrowed brows. He leaned down on his forearm, bringing his face closer to yours.

Your eyes darted away from him before returning as you admitted, "What if I don't like it? Or what if you don't like how I taste?" Sebastian's face cleared as he understood.

"Oh sweetheart, if you don't like it, then we won't do it! Not everyone does like it, some don't like the sensations, and that's okay. There's other things we can do if you end up not enjoying yourself. And as far as taste goes, baby, I'm gonna love it because it's you, because it means I'm giving you all this pleasure. Plus, I just like the taste of pussy anyways," Sebastian grinned lecherously then laughed at your eye roll.

"See, there we go, that's better baby, I want you feeling good when we do this, not being scared! You think you wanna go further now?" he asked calmly, no judgement in his tone.

"Yeah, I wanna try it," you whispered, then repeated yourself louder at his raised eyebrow. "I want to!"

"Alright then, let's get these off then," Sebastian muttered, sitting up and resting his hands on your jeans. He undid the button and zipper, tugging at the waistband until they slid down your hips and thighs, and he pulled them off your legs.

Sebastian laid back down on top of you, pressing deep kisses to your lips, until you were panting and squirming beneath him. "Seb, please! I- I'm ready, need you," you cried, gasping as he nipped at your neck, traveling down your body, pressing kisses everywhere.

"You...are...so...beautiful..." Sebastian murmured in between kisses until he was between your legs, at your panty-covered mound. He kissed it softly, inhaling and smiling up at you. "Baby, I'm gonna like your taste just fine," he said and winked at your bright red face.

"Sebastian!" you moaned, embarrassed and turned on, and he ducked his head, nosing at your covered pussy. He pressed kisses to your inner thighs, scruff perfectly scritching you, closer and closer until he was kissing the edges of your panties, sticky wet with your juices.

"Ready sweetheart?" Sebastian asked, and you nodded desperately, hands in clenched in the couch cushions. He grinned and licked a stripe up your panties, catching them in his teeth and pulling them to the side before letting them go and licking lightly at your outer lips.

You squirmed, it tickling a little, and then his tongue went a little farther, circling your inner lips and entrance, your brow furrowing as you felt the new sensations. Suddenly his tongue went up just a little, flicking lightly and touching your clit, and your hips jumped up, nearly smashing his nose.

"Sorry! Sorry," you apologized but Sebastian just smiled.

"It's okay sweetheart, I've got you, just let go," he said, and licked a long, slow stripe up your center, your cunt clenching and releasing as you gasped and shivered. Your body relaxed and Sebastian grinned, burying his face deeper in between your legs, scruff scratching at your thighs, but finally sliding his tongue inside you, making you moan loudly.

"That's my girl," Sebastian said when he pulled back to breathe, your legs shaking from the pleasure coursing through your veins. You whined, hands reaching for his head, trying to guide him back to your pussy. He laughed and let himself be moved, following your hands to your clit, sucking at it until you were yanking at his hair, nearly crying.

"S-so good, too g-good," you mumbled, and Sebastian slipped his tongue back inside your cunt, nose rubbing at your clit, keeping you on the edge of bliss.

Sebastian stuck his tongue as far deep in you as he could, fucking it in and out of you before sucking hard. You came explosively, crying out, one hand on the back of the couch, the other firmly in Sebastian's hair. He moaned as you tugged on it, and the vibrations sent an aftershock through you, making you sob.

Sebastian slowly pulled away, your hand falling from his head, and he looked up, face and scruff shining with your juices. You blushed, and he grinned, pulling your panties off your legs.

"Final verdict?" he asked, licking his lips and winking when you flushed further.

"Can we do it again?"

[lexiepoch]

Highly Trained

Prompt: "You know how to unlock handcuffs with a paperclip? Teach me!" "Absolutely not."

Word Count:764

You sit next to Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton, catching up with the pair of them. “So, you’re healing well Clint?” You ask.

“Yeah, Nat pulled the bullet out on the jet and stitched me up pretty well. How have you been recently? It's been what, six months since we saw you last?"

"Yeah around that But there's only been one change in my life. I got a kitten." you admit.

Both assassins light up." A kitten?!" squeals Natasha.

You pull out your phone to bring up a picture of your new baby. "Yeah, her name is Liho. She is so tiny and she's all black. She's a little cuddle bug though. You pair should come over soon, I need to socialize her so that would be great. But that's enough about me, have you two been getting into any antics that I should know about?”

"Well this asshole handcuffed me in the middle of the kitchen, in front of everybody for absolutely no reason a few days ago. I was stuck in them for an hour before I could get a hold of a paper clip to pick the lock. It was awful." Nat punches Clint in the shoulder.

"Hey, that actually hurt Tash," he whines, rubbing where she made contact.

"Good, it was meant to." She smirks at the man, hand darting out to flick him in the temple.

"Y/n! She's abusing me!" he fake cries to you.

"I feel ever so sorry for you Clint. It sounds like you've earned it. But back up a minute. You know how to unlock handcuffs with a paperclip? Teach me!" you turn to the red head as she sips her chai latte.

"Absolutely not. No way." she shuts down the request immediately.

"Aww! Why not Nat?"

"Because, you would use it in a situation you're not supposed to. Like if you got arrested. And don't say that you wouldn't. We all know you would." she says, raising her eyebrows at you as you open your mouth.

"What?! No! Not our innocent Y/n! She would never do something that would get her arrested." teases Clint.

"I mean I've been arrested before. Tony bailed me out before anyone could really find out. Even made it disappear off of my record. So yeah, I totally would use it for that purpose."

"When did this happen?!" asks Nat, leaning forward on the table.

"A couple months ago now. Probably mid August. Tony was so nice about it too, came and picked me up in my favourite of his cars. And he bought me lunch that day."

"See Tash, Stark can be a good person." says Clint giving Nat a pointed look.

"Mhm, yeah right." Nat rolls her eyes and sips her latte.

"What do you have against Tony, Nat?"

"They had a nasty argument a week ago. Stark ate the last of her Quality Street candies and she's really upset about it. He's tried apologizing but she's having none of it. Aren't you Tash?" explains Clint, leaning over to peck Natasha's temple.

"It had my fucking name on a sticky note on the lid. It was very clear that it was mine. And everybody in the tower knows I don't share my fucking food. Even Thor knows to not take my food!” snaps Nat.

"Shh, it's okay. I'll buy you another tin from the Great Britain store on the way back the the tower. Just drink your latte Tash." Clint pats his best friend on the head briefly.

“He stole your food? Candies at that?! That man is lucky to be alive!” You chuckle, making Nat smile. “When do you guys want to come over and meet Liho?”

“Maybe next Thursday? I’ve got nothing that day. Does that sound good for you?” Suggests Nat, still looking grouchy.

“Works for me, Y/n?”

“That works for me, I get off work at one that day so that will work perfectly for me if you come by around two?”

“Great! That works!” Nat smiles, straightening her back and wincing slightly.

“Back sore still Tasha?” Asks Clint.

“No shit Sherlock. Rogers and I sparred yesterday and you know how that goes.” You giggle at that.

“Yes, yes I do. Please tell me you won!”

“Of course I did! No way I was letting Captain America beat me!” The three of you laugh. After a while you say your goodbyes and head your desperate ways. “See you Thursday Y/n!” Calls Nat as you get into your car.

“See you then Natty!” You wave through the window before driving off.

The End

[shieldofiron]

La Ladra

Harringrove Week Day #3. Prompt: Pumpkin Pie

[aka FINALLY they make out I was getting annoyed with myself]

[Part 1 and Part 2]

   La Ladra is even rougher than Steve envisioned, a warehouse space on the edges of town with a bar and tables added haphazardly. It’s one step above a barn rave. Only Argyle and Jonathan seem at home, finding them a corner booth with a sticky table amongst the rough looking crowd. Robin’s doing her best to look at ease, he’ll give her that, but Chrissy clings, her nails digging into Steve’s arm.

  The place isn’t entirely packed, but that only gives them a chance to notice all of the mean looking characters. Steve and Chrissy are the odd eggs, and he’s never wished he could borrow clothes more than he does looking at this crowd. Why did he think a white t-shirt was cool? He looks out at the sea of black and flannel and wishes he wasn’t such a dork.

   “They’re up next,” Jon yells over the music as he comes back from the bar, setting down five full pints.

   “Should we…” Chrissy smiles nervously at a guy eyeing their table, “Uh… go up front.”

   Steve raises his brows, “If you want.”

   Robin sinks back in her seat, scooting closer to Argyle, “I’ll stay here.”

   “Have fun, brochachos,” Argyle bobs his head to the beat, “I hate this kind of music.”

   “Then why are you dancing,” Robin frowns.

   “Oh. You gotta dance. Always, always,” Argyle looks at her like she just sprouted an extra head.

   Chrissy practically drags Steve through the crowd, her red hair glowing neon in the low lighting.

   “You really like him, huh?” He says, barely audible over the music.

   “I got up the courage to mention it again yesterday,” Her eyes sparkle, as she puts her cheerleader training to good use and yells over the crowd, crystal clear. “And he seemed really happy, Steve!”

   “I’m glad,” Steve’s stomach sinks but he lets himself be dragged up front anyway. It seems like he likes Chrissy back, so he probably won’t even notice Steve, which would be a good thing. All week he’s been torn up over it, wanting to go back to the coffee shop to catch a glimpse of him, and at the same time feeling like if he sees him again, Steve would just disappear into smoke. Combustible, that’s how he feels.

   The band that’s already playing finishes destroying their instruments and Steve’s ears, and bids the crowd goodnight, packing up and clearing the stage by the time that Chrissy and Steve make their way to the stage through the crowd that seems to be pointedly ignoring them.

   A tall guy with long dark curly hair comes out and throws down a case right in front of them, pulling out a wicked looking red guitar.

   He glances up once, twice, then three times at Chrissy’s beaming pink face, with big brown eyes that only get bigger.

   “You came,” He breathes in a slightly startled voice.

   “I came,” She breathes back.

   Steve darts his eyes between the two of them, taking an embarrassingly long time to figure it out.

   “This is Steve,” Chrissy jerks on his arm.

   The guy looks at him, swiping a hand on his black jeans before offering it to Steve, “Eddie. Munson. Nice to meet you.”

   “Eddie,” Steve takes it, grinning so wide he thinks his face might burst, “Of the famous Candy Corn Latte.”

   Eddie jerks his hand back, “Oh, yeah. Ha. Did you like it?”

   “It was a crime against humanity,” Steve laughs, “I’m Italian, though. I take coffee very seriously.”

   Eddie’s eyes keep straying to Chrissy, “Yeah, I had to beg my boss to let me put it up. But it really does taste just like candy corn, so I had to share it with the world.”

   “Eddie,” Someone calls out from the back, their voice gruff.

   “Oh,” Eddie jumps, backing away from them, “Speak of the devil. Uh… stay right there.”

   It’s the angel, hovering at the door to the stage, a speaker hoisted on his shoulders.

   Steve sucks in a breath.

   “What?” Chrissy tugs on his arm.

   “Uh,” Steve bites his lip, “I just think… that’s the guy I saw at the coffee shop. I thought the blonde one was the one you liked.”

   Chrissy goes up on her tiptoes to look backstage, and then she shrugs, “No. I like Eddie. Did you see his guitar?”

   Steve rolls his eyes, “Yes, I saw his guitar.”

   “He’s so cool, right?”

   “Chrissy, he’s so into you,” Steve furrows his brow.

   “Me?” She dips her chin low, “No. Maybe he wants to be friends.”

   “Sure,” Steve shakes his head, “Friends with Benefits.”

   She squeaks, her cheeks going bright red.

   “You may not want to cling to my arm,” He tugs her in closer and whispers it flirtatiously, “He’ll get the wrong idea.”

   “Steve,” Chrissy rolls her eyes, “As if.”

   Steve huffs, “You know I am actually quite good looking to other people. Okay?”

   Someone crouches on the stage in front of them in tight jeans, a necklace swaying at the corner of Steve’s vision like a hypnotist’s watch, “I’ll say.”

   Steve’s stomach curdles with embarrassment, as he glances up to see the coffee shop angel, “Oh. You.”

   “Yeah,” He smiles, showing off shiny canines, “Me. And you. How is it that a guy like you ends up in a place like this?”

   “Eddie,” Steve blurts out.

   The blonde’s brows rise, “Eddie. My Eddie?”

   Oh. Maybe they’re…   

   Steve looks down at Chrissy, trying to telepathically signal to her that this is about to be a huge mistake.

   Chrissy looks up at the angel with no fear, “I have a crush on him. My friend’s just here for moral support.”

   “Is that right?” The angel licks along his lower lip, pink tongue moving swiftly.

   Steve forces himself to look at his eyes, but hoping they’re not half so sexy as he remembers. Bedroom eyes, heavily lashed, lids lowered so he can look at Steve from between his knees. Fuck. They’re sexier.

   The angel holds out a hand, “Billy Hargrove. I own the Four Horsemen.”

   Chrissy smiles and takes it, “Hi. I’m Chrissy Cunningham, Steve and I work down the street from you at Walsh and Harrington.”

   Billy nods, “Nice to meet you. Steve and I have already met though. He walked out on me.”

   Chrissy’s brow furrows, “What?”

   “He orders a coffee right,” Billy pulls her by her hand so that she gets closer,  hunching low like he’s telling her a secret, “Pays, overpays actually, and then walks right out. Coulda been the best cup of coffee of his life.”

   “You left?” Chrissy looks at him, “That’s weird.”

   “I know right,” Billy’s brow is furrowed, but his eyes sparkle with good humor “And all I keep thinking is… was it something I said?”

   “I… uh… had to get back to the office to finish the writeup,” Steve shakes his head, “You didn’t say anything weird.” I’m the one who said something weird, Steve adds silently.

   Chrissy eyes him skeptically, “You came back from the coffee shop and took a nap on your couch.”

   It wasn’t a nap, he had been lying in the dark contemplating his own stupidity.

   “Naps help me think,” He mutters.

   Billy flicks his tongue off one of his shiny canines, “And, now I feel bad. Feel like I owe you.”

   Steve eyes the band setting up behind him, to stop looking at his tongue. He feels instinctively that looking at Billy’s tongue is going to get him in trouble of the worst kind.

   “Nah, don’t worry about it,” Steve wraps his hand around Chrissy’s, for moral support. Because his morality is slipping.

   It’s not him, his thoughts whisper seductively, Chrissy likes someone else.

   Billy reaches in his pocket and pulls out a battered looking cigarette case, the kind gangsters used to flash in old movies. He pulls out what might be, but probably is not, a hand rolled cigarette.

   “Come on,” Billy shakes his head in the direction of the backstage, “I don’t like owing anybody anything.”

   Steve raises his brows, “Don’t you have a set to play?”

   Billy smiles, like the snare tightening around a rabbit’s foot, “I’m just the roadie, Pretty Boy. Or are you too square?”

----------

       And that’s how he finds himself in this back alley with the angel who smiles like he just crawled out of hell.

   “I wonder why it’s called that,” Steve glances up at the sign for something to do with himself, “La Ladra.” The words taste heavy and sweet on his tongue, and he can feel them in the back of his jaw. Holy shit. This is good weed.

   Billy rolls the joint between his fingers like a pencil, “Because it’s cool as fuck. El sonido de la ladra. Beautiful”

   “Sorry?”

   “The cry of hounds, ‘s Spanish. Like… dogs barking,” Billy nods, taking a swift drag and then expelling it in a plume, “That’s what it means.”

   Steve furrows his brow, “It’s Italian. The thief. Like the opera, La Gazza Ladra.”

   Billy licks his lower lip, eyelashes fluttering, “You think this place is named after an opera?”

   Steve shrugs, “The thief makes more sense than the cry of hounds.”

    Billy rolls his eyes, “Six of one half dozen of the other, Amigo.”

    “So you speak Spanish?”

   Billy raises his hand, index and thumb pinched together, “My mom was Mexican. But she wasn’t around so much. I try to keep it up.”

   “My mom was Italian,” Steve volunteers before he’s been asked, and embarrassment swirls in his chest.

   “Say something in Italian, then,” Billy’s tongue flicks off his cupid’s bow, smoke pouring from his mouth.

    “Qualche cosa,” Steve replies.

   “What’at mean?” Billy hands him the joint and Steve takes it, dragging hard. Behind the taste of weed, there’s something on the joint, a taste like bourbon and something sweet and earthy that’s sending the best kind of signals to Steve’s brain.

   “Something,” Steve says on the inhale, the sound sucked through a straw.

   Billy laughs, “Okay. Say something else.”

    “Like what?”

    “I dunno,” Billy looks at the ground, “Pumpkin pie.”

   “Why pumpkin pie?”

   “I was making some earlier. For the shop,” He shrugs, “Got it on my mind.”

   Steve hands the joint back, scratching his temple, “Okay. Pumpkins aren’t native to Italy, so... Torta de zucca. Like zucchini.”

   Billy hums at the back of his throat, holding in smoke.

    “What is it in Spanish?”    Smoke pours out again while Billy’s tongue traces foreign patterns in the air, “Pastel de calabaza.”

    “Calabaza,” Steve echoes uselessly, eyes on Billy’s lower lip, his mind going hazy.

    Billy steps a little closer, leaning forward and putting the joint between Steve’s lips and holding it there. He smells like cologne, but his hands smell like pumpkin pie.

   Steve inhales shallowly, and exhales around the joint, smoke filling the space between them.

   “How you doing there, calabaza?” Billy’s not exactly touching him, but this feels like they’re touching all fucking over.

    Steve holds his breath, “Good.”    Billy hums, pulling the joint away, “Okay, good.”

    This taste of Billy Hargrove isn’t as sweet as the first one. Billy nudges his lips open and bites him, hard enough only to sting, on his lower lip. The taste of bourbon and weed burns a little at the tip of his tongue, and Steve groans, melting into his touch. They knock together like bowling pins, and Steve’s back goes against the brick so hard, the wind gets knocked out of him. The joint falls to the ground, stamped out under their boots. Billy presses the length of his body against Steve, knees knocking, chests brushing, and Steve shivers.

    “This okay?” Billy gasps into his mouth, his hands bracketing Steve’s jaw.

    “Holy shit, yes, it’s okay, it’s great,” Steve gurgles.

   “This romantic enough for you, Pretty Boy?” The other hand slips along Steve’s chest, down to the waistband of his pants, just teasing, pressing against the front of his jeans, while Billy kisses his jaw, his neck, biting him when he gets the last word out.

   Steve’s brain barely works, “Romantic.”

   Billy hums, sucking just above Steve’s collar, one hand cradling Steve’s face to keep him from squirming, “Yeah. Like your operas or whatever.”

   Steve is lost, thrusting against Billy’s wandering hands, barely there, “P-please.”

   “Please what?” Billy’s hand is barely there, and Steve presses against him, whining.

    “Please,” Steve murmurs, “Kiss me more.”

   Billy clicks his tongue, “In Italian.”

   “Baciami, Billy,” Steve gasps, “Mi vuoi dare un bacio?”

   Billy leans up and makes an untranslatable sound as their lips meet again.

[Also on AO3 here. Part Four - Here]

[kaiandthestrangespaghetti]

Wasteland, Baby (Part 04/?)

Part 01 is here, Part 02 is here Part 03 is here

Pairing: Miami Man x F!Reader

Wordcount: 2.3k

Warnings: Violence, hurt/comfort, a tinge of angst, oral sex (female receiving), feelings.

Summary: After a violent confrontation you and Cam (Miami) set out again on the trail of Miel’s kidnapper, a man named Elijah.

A/N: Yearning yesss…

You’ve never tasted anything so good. You pull the ring tab back on the top of the can, bringing it up to your lips to gulp down thick peach syrup.

Miami - Cam, sits down on the threadbare sofa inside the old mobile home with his knees spread and picks the fruit delicately out of the can, savouring it. He watches you with that little half smile. Syrup spills onto your dress as you grab the slices out, barely chewing. It’s been so long since you ate fruit.

“You gonna make yourself sick.” Cam utters lowly, but he doesn’t seem that bothered. In fact he seems to enjoy watching you.

You eat the whole thing and let the can roll onto the floor with a clatter. Already you can feel the sugar rush. Your mouth is sticky and you slump against the wall, sucking your fingers. At first you do it purely to get every last drop of syrup but then you notice his gaze fix on your mouth. You pause with your index finger between your lips and that wicked smile is on your face again. Your tongue lingers a little too long, circling as you stare back at him.

He sets the can down and stands, and in a second he’s in front of you. His broad chest boxing you in against the wall. He takes your jaw in his sticky fingers to turn your face up to his. When his mouth meets yours his tongue presses deep and hot, still holding you. Your eyes roll as the lack of air starts to kick in but he finally pulls away, you both taste like peaches.

His stubble is starting to grow in, without much thought you reach up to stroke the rough side of his face. His wicked smile grows just a little, tongue darting out as he considers what to do with you. After a moment he sighs, swallowing.

“C’mon. We pack what we can.” He lifts a bag and walks out onto the dust, leaving sticky fingerprints on your face. You don’t mind.

Outside, the grim reminder of the two men who had been sent to apprehend you asserts itself; both lying dead in the dust. Even with your head buzzing from the sugar you start to wonder at the plan. You skip to catch up and grab Cam’s arm. He turns.

Your eyes go from the men on the floor, to the makeshift ambush spot and you give a gesture of loss. You’re right; the one with the gun had said they had Miel, but you don’t know where. Cam lets the bag dangle on his fingers, he’s getting good at reading you. Whenever he speaks his voice is a low resonance that goes right through you.

“Comfort is a town, ‘bout ninety miles that way-” he points east. “They have water, people. Elijah is not with them, he’s outside. But still, two days drive. We move.” He walks to the bike and straps the provisions on the back. You don’t feel especially clear on the plan, but it’s all either of you have for the moment.

With a strange, cool sensation you become aware once again of the dead man’s revolver tucked in your makeshift blade holster. Still five shots in it. Cam had checked it and returned it to your possession, he seems to trust you with it. But still. You’d shot someone today. It was self-defence, but that didn’t lessen it. Quite deliberately you avoid looking at the body as you climb on the back of the bike behind Cam. The arcs and lines of the tattoos across his shoulders becoming soothing and familiar by now. You can’t help but touch your nose to his muscled back where the two flamingos kiss beneath the holster strap.

There was a small can of gasoline well hidden under one of the makeshift houses, enough to get you a little further, but not the whole way. The buzz of the bike engine and your cheek against Cam’s back makes even this journey seem dreamlike, even though you don’t know what you’re going into. You allow yourself to dwell in the rush of air, the smells of him, the motion.

-

You lose track of time until the sun is low in the sky, and you feel the bike start to slow. Leaning around Cam’s arm you see the ruin of a farmhouse. Not old, but recently burned down. The bike skids to a halt a little way off. Cam kicks down the side stand and his fingers loose the cleaver from its holster, climbing off the bike.

The gun is in your hand and you trail him like a shadow with your finger on the trigger.

There’s almost nothing left of the house, but on the west side Cam finds a pair of doors for a storm cellar and throws them open, quickly ducking out of the way, blade poised. You breathe shallow breaths. There’s no sound. Cam bites his lip, turns the blade handle in his hand and jumps down the concrete steps three at a time, you hear him land at the bottom, heart pounding in your throat where you stand above ground. Silence. He re-emerges into the light at the bottom of the stairs.

“We stay here tonight.” He utters, the cleaver clipping back into place.

-

While Cam conceals the bike by the side of the house you explore the little cellar. It’s a small space, maybe twelve feet across. Old blankets and rugs scattered on the floor, the remains of packaged food and some bottled water, a few burned down candles. The air is dry, and it smells like earth. Someone had been staying here. But whoever they were they were long gone.

You pick up the rugs and shake them out, the same with the heavy wool blankets, sitting down to pull one around your shoulders.

Cam bolts the cellar doors from the inside with a piece of old timber shoved through the handles and you both find yourself in almost complete darkness. The rustle of a bag. A match striking, Cam holds the flame to one of the low candles and you see the fire dance in his eyes before he blows the match out. He examines the remains of the bottled water, sniffing first then lifting to his lips to taste. When he’s satisfied, he hands it to you.

Your fingers close momentarily around his as you take the plastic bottle and down half of it. Now that you’re sitting swaddled on the floor you realise that you’re exhausted.

Even in the dark, he notices. He squats down in front of you. Arms resting on his knees, the hunch of his shoulders cast in silhouette from the candlelight behind him. He lays the back of his hand gently against your forehead like he’s checking for a fever and then carefully lifts your bandaged stump to check for bleeding. You set the water down.

“Hurts?” He asks in a low voice, and you can see the outline of the rough stubble on his cheek in the dark, his voice is a base tone. In the dark he seems even bigger somehow, but not frightening.

You shrug dismissively. It does, but that’s not the problem.

“Tired.” You whisper. He nods. “Rest, I’ll keep watch.” He goes to stand but your hand lands on his forearm and he pauses. Only then do you notice the little spiralbound notebook tucked in the back pocket of his pants, you reach back and remove it carefully. He lets you, but you’re sure you see a flicker of shyness on his face as you take it. He purses his lips and watches as you turn over the cover. 

In the gloom you see drawings, dozens of them. Portraits, animals, intricate patterns, Miel. About two thirds through you come to the last image. It takes you a second to make out what it is. A woman in a ragged looking skater dress. Laid asleep on her side, her long hair spilling over the pillow. She’s missing her left arm.

The expression that comes to your face feels strange; you haven’t felt happy like that for a long time, there’s something almost innocent about it. You laugh shyly and Cam is smiling – even when he narrows his eyes in faux annoyance and takes the book back from you, pushing it back into his pocket.

“Sleep.” He admonishes softly and stands from where he squats in front of you, moving to check that the doors are well bolted. The rugs don’t offer much comfort, but you’re so exhausted sleep isn’t difficult, it blankets around you while you’re still watching Cam secure the doors.

Even half asleep you’re aware of small sounds around you, eyes opening briefly to see Cam going through the remains of the supplies. The temperature drops and the basement cools. His body presses in large behind you, pulling the blankets over you both and you push back instinctively. In the half haze of sleep his arm tightly circles your waist, his breath warm on the back of your neck. You could almost fall asleep again, the sense of security in his presence making even this old basement in the middle of nowhere feel like home – but it’s that exact instinct that makes you moan and turn, finding his lips in the dark. The candle long burned out. The kiss is slow at first, his hand on the back of your neck, and then feverish. You’re so exhausted but burning with want.

“Shhh.” He lulls, like that first night and you whine, your hand weakly slipping down to grasp his thick cock through the fabric of his pants. He hums with pleasure, his large hand cupping around yours where you stroke him. He stops a moment in consideration.

“On your back.” A purr in your ear and you comply, feeling him peel your underwear away, leaving your already wet sex vulnerable to the cool air. You wait with painful anticipation for the sounds of him unbuttoning his pants but they don’t come. Instead, his arm relinquishes your waist, and he slips down your body. His broad palms slide beneath your ass and lift you easily, thumbs spreading your cunt wide. When his breath hits your wet folds you gasp.

“Shhh.” He lulls again. “Let me, princesa.” Those last words are nearly a plea, you can hear the desperate want in the two simple syllables, even his sarcastic pet name for you sounds soft and genuine. Reaching down you rub gently behind his ear, where the number is tattooed and his stubbled cheek presses momentarily into your soft palm.

He exhales hard, he’s slow at first; his tongue traces up and down the slit of your cunt, gripping your ass and holding you in place. You don’t need to move a muscle. He laps up every drop like sweet dew and his lips find the crest of your sex, his tongue rubbing insistent strokes over and over. His nose nudges your clit when he plunges his tongue into you, shuddering like a man dying of thirst finding fresh water in the desert. Harder, deeper. Your wetness soaks his face and moustache.

The line between sex and being actually devoured has always been a flux with Cam, Miami. But this feels different. His hunger for you is beyond sustenance or survival and you wish you could see his face in the dark. You settle for reaching down to rub your own fingers over your swollen nub, brushing lightly as his tongue fucks you. Your eyes are rolling, your body stiffens. A strange tension grips you and he feels it, letting you back down onto the rug to lean up close to your ear.

“No?” He asks. At first you don’t have a simple answer. You want it but it’s so much.

“I’ve never… never…” You breathe but feel ridiculous. His soft laugh is a breeze on your ear and even though you can’t see him in the dark you know his smile when he turns your face toward him.

“You never been eaten, sweet thing?”

Despite everything you blush, shaking your head. His nose brushes your cheek.

“Don’ worry, I know how.” The double meaning of that statement makes you groan in that deliciously fucked up way and his hands are on your ass cheeks again, pulling you open slowly but thoroughly. Cool air touches parts of you where you’ve never felt it, not like this. You surrender as he pumps his tongue into you.

Wet sounds fill the basement. You are silent, your mouth dropped open, eyes shut. But Cam is not; a light hum of pleasure becomes a growl you can feel in the core of your being and he pulls you wider, wanting more, more. His right hand releases your hip and his thumb is on your clit, rubbing short firm strokes that make your legs wrap tight around his shoulders.

Now your hands grasp desperately in the back of his hair, pulling his short ponytail loose. You’re barely breathing. Cam’s left thumb slides easily into your cunt, his fingers still cupping your ass, pulling you down and open as his tongue fills you.

The sound that comes from you is a quivering cry and every muscle clenches as you come, shaking, gripping him hard with your legs. He’s trying to devour your orgasm, drinking you relentlessly until you go limp, gasping and wet with sweat.

The smell of your own sex on his face is potent when he leans close to you again and it draws you in, you kiss him voraciously. The boundary between the two of you dissolving into nothing, his thick fingers tight in the hair on the nape of your neck.

Cam pulls back, his gaze striking you despite the blackness of the basement.

The moment hangs between you, both still breathing hard and you know he wants to say something.

You want to say something… but you just think about the little drawing pad tucked in his back pocket. The way he smells. The way the insanity and brutality of the desert makes more sense than the rest of your life.

There is the soft sound of his lips parting;

“I…”

The screeching crash of wood splintering fills the small space. The cellar doors collapse open.

[4dtk]

can you write something about haechan wants him s/o to sit on his face but she is shy or don't have too much confidence to do it

idt i'll give this one a title lol. but hope u like this anon!

warnings: face-sitting, fingering, oral (f receiving), cunnilingus/eating out

NSFW UNDER THE CUT, MINORS DNI

“huuh... what d’ya mean you don’t wanna try it?” haechan whispers with a cute voice, the situation in contrast to how he’s lazily sucking on your nipple. it could make you laugh if his warm mouth didn’t feel so good, but you have to hold back a moan in order to answer him.

“just- i don’t know. w-won’t you ah.. kinda suffocate or some- something?” your shirt is pushed up now, his hand reaching up to massage at your breast. it’s slow, as if he’s easing you into something. haechan only hums when his body fully takes his place over you, finally trailing down your trembling body. his touches are light, even when pulling down his sweatpants and underwear he poorly put on you this morning.

the cool air of the room grazes against your cunt and it makes you whimper, haechan’s mouth widening in surprise as he shushes you. “hyung’s in the room, baby. don’t wanna wake him.”

gently, he licks a stripe up your pussy lips, collecting your juices for his own gain before he hums at the taste. you have to contain your moans when haechan takes his time to eat you out, torturing your clit like always that has your hand flying up to grab at his locks. the sensation makes him groan into your soaking cunt, vibrations passing through your body satisfyingly. “ya sure i can’t convince you, hm?”

“w-wait!” haechan plunges two fingers into without trouble, your slick providing enough ease for him to enter. the unexpected stretch has you gasping, legs squeezing around his head like how you clench around his digits. “my god, you’re dripping.”

it was embarrassing that you had gotten so wet just from a few words and touches from haechan, but that’s just exactly what he does to you. light, feathery touches with teasing undertones, lingering kisses against your neck with his shameless tongue darting out to lick at the spot. even so, haechan did nothing but wait for you whenever he suggested something new, even if his dick was painfully hard and even if he wanted to bend you over the counter in front of all the members to feed into his voyeur kink.

so when haechan was lapping at your cunt like a starved animal and praising his slim, long fingers into you, you’ve finally decided through the cloud of pleasure and the occasional burn that you’d indulge him, even if he came out panting for air. you bite down another sound, head thrown back onto the soft pillow while your legs close around his head tighter and tighter. if your moans didn’t give it away, though, the squelching noises of your pussy did as he moved his fingers at a moderate pace.

“h-hyuck, uhm,” you manage to get through, chest moving from how excited he’s got you from a little fingering.

haechan’s smile sends your body twitching, lips glistening in the night from your sticky arousal before he licks them up from his fingers. he switches positions a little too eagerly, assuming a position you’re all too familiar with viewing. there’s a smirk on his face as you make your way to him, whistling lowly when your juices connect from thigh to thigh before you sling it over his face.

“are you sure about this?”

you nod in a daze. “then sit.”

your thighs tremble even before his mouth meets your sopping cunt, hot breath already riling you up. and when you finally descend onto his lips is when you finally find divinity, deities among gods where everything is singing. the sensation feels so different from lying down that you accidentally jerk your body, letting out a long moan at the contact.

“mmhm,” haechan is slobbering over your folds, moaning into it even when your juices leak from the sides of his mouth. just like earlier, he worships it since he’s had the first taste, driving his tongue deeper and deeper into your hole, forearms firmly clapped around your thighs to keep you from moving. they burn so bad and then so good that cry out whenever his nose nudges against your clit, hips moving on its own to get more of his wet muscle on your needy sex.

“hah- hyuck, p-please,” your knuckles are possibly white from how tight you’re gripping the headboard, leaving yourself for a bit of support in order not to crush haechan. “fuck, donghyuck-“

his hand skillfully bends itself to play with your clit, squeezing it in between his fingers that has tears pricking at your eyes. you’re certain they’re rolled back as you grind more and more like an animal in need, in heat against his unrelenting tongue. you feel teeth on your skin, the ghost of a laugh on your cunt before his eyes meet yours.

“wanna cum soon?” with a shaky breath, you mumble out a yes before he goes back to devouring your pussy, ten times louder and ten times filthier. you go back to muffling your moans through poorly timed grunts and whimpers. your skin heats up, your head goes light and the coil in you tightens. “‘m gonna cuuum- ah…!”

“ya close?” haechan knows. haechan knows everything about you, from when you arch your back to feel every part of his tongue on you to when your head is thrown back that exposes your neck. haechan knows how much he affects you. “go on. cum, baby. cum around my tongue.”

with that, you gush, releasing your juices all over him as you ride out your orgasm on his mouth. every inch of your body is shaking from the invigorating orgasm, twitching from sensitivity that makes haechan laugh again. what a bastard.

“now, look at me,” haechan pants with a cheeky smile, “i’m still alive, aren’t i? although, i’d prefer if you would fully sit on me, baby. it’s called face-sitting for a reason.” you roll your eyes, but before you’re removing your legs, he stops with you with a hand.

“you up for one more round?” he grins, and like the sex-craved animal he is, he has you wrapped around his finger (literally), preparing you for what’s to come.

[junghelioseok]

heart-on.

↳ your one-night stand definitely isn’t relationship material, but maybe—just maybe—your manager’s son is.

◇ hoseok x reader ◇ smut | strangers to lovers!au ◇ 10.1k [1/1]

❛❛ my boss is always telling me how perfect her son would be for me and she promises he’s coming to the next holiday party and don’t worry he’s heard all about me too and ALSO there’s this dude i slept with once a couple of months ago and sometimes he still sends me dick pics when i ask him to at 3 in the morning cause seriously dude’s got a good dick ❜❜

notes: welcome to the first installment of the serendipity series! we’re starting with hoseok, because, well, have you met me? 🤣 be warned, however, that this isn’t anywhere near as edited as i’d like so i’ll probably give it another read/edit tomorrow but for now!!! here it is!!!

⇢ series masterlist. | inspired by this post.

warnings: dirty talk bc hoseok’s got a bit of a mouth on him, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, kids!), sexting. dick pics, obvi. brief mention of a dead pet goldfish :(

You’re refilling your mug when you hear it. Voices filter out from the kitchen, floating past the coffee station where you’re pouring yourself another drink and hanging in the open air of the hallway that leads back to the rest of the office. They’re familiar voices, too—voices that belong to the resident gossips of your workplace. Lottie’s pitchy, nasal tone melds with Hyejin’s higher one, their conversation interrupted every so often by an exaggerated exclamation or gasp from Sandra, the third and final member of their trio.

“Haven’t you heard? Carolyn’s divorce was finalized over the weekend, the poor thing.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine how she’s feeling. I mean, getting back into dating at her age? Goodness!”

“And now she’ll be all alone at the holiday party, too. How sad is that?”

“It’s tragic. Poor thing.”

Rolling your eyes, you grab a packet of sugar and tear it open, upending it over your mug and watching the crystalline granules fall into the dark liquid within. You know for a fact that Sandra and her husband can’t even stand to be in the same room for an extended period of time, considering how they’d spent most of last year’s holiday party talking to entirely different groups of people. You’d sat two tables away from them during dinner, and they hadn’t even made eye contact once. And as for Lottie and Hyejin, well, you’re certain that their relationships aren’t much better. All three of them are miserable people as far as you’re concerned, and you make a mental note to check in on Carolyn—a sweet woman in her thirties who always keeps chocolate bars in her purse—on your way back to your desk.

“Sheesh. Vultures, the lot of them. Don’t you think?”

You whirl at the sound of your manager’s voice. Kyunghee Jung is a dark-haired woman in her late fifties, and she laughs when she sees your startled expression, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Easy! You’ll spill your coffee if you’re not careful.”

“I’ll probably have a heart attack first,” you reply, pressing a hand to your chest. “What was your job before this? Some kind of intelligence operative? Are you a super spy?”

Kyunghee laughs again and joins you at the counter. “Nothing even remotely as exciting as that,” she answers, plopping her mug down beside yours. It’s decorated with what looks like every color of the rainbow, a massive smiling sunflower taking up the majority of the surface, and the only remnant of the ceramic’s original color is on the very edge of the handle where there’s a lopsided little patch of white. The piece is clearly handmade, and a stark contrast to the simple mint green cup that houses your coffee. Looking at it, it’s impossible not to smile.

“I love that,” you remark, inclining your head at her mug. “Was it a present from one of your kids?”

“Hoseok,” she confirms, running a fingertip along the imperfect handle fondly. “I’ve told you about him before—he’s right around your age.”

You chuckle. “Right, I remember. That’s why he’s the perfect match for me, right?”

“Come now, there’s more to it than that,” Kyunghee defends, waving a hand. “But yes, to answer your question. He gave it to me as a birthday present when he was eight.”

“Well, you never told me he was an artist,” you tease. “Does he have an Etsy? Can I buy one of these off him? Does he do custom orders, maybe?”

Normally, your manager is more than happy to play along with your jokes, but today Kyunghee fixes you with an uncharacteristically serious look. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?” she asks. “He’s coming to the holiday party, after all. I figured you could finally meet.”

You blink. Kyunghee has been making offhand remarks about how well you would get on with her son, Hoseok, for over a year now, but you’ve never even come close to broaching the topic of meeting him. You don’t even know anything about the man beyond the fact that his name is Hoseok and that he works somewhere downtown. He also favors tall socks and yellow suspenders if the framed photograph on Kyunghee’s desk is any indication—or at least, he certainly did when he was still in diapers. Whether he still does, is anyone’s guess.

“Wow, I had no idea he was even interested in coming,” you manage when you’ve recovered from your surprise. “Did you bribe him?”

If Kyunghee notices that your voice is a few pitches higher than usual, she doesn’t remark on it. “Oh, you know. I just told him that this would be his last chance to score free booze on the company’s dime.” She laughs. “Three more months and it’s going to be all beaches and sunshine for me. I might even become a cruise person in my retirement.”

You gasp and slap a hand to your heart. “Kyunghee! Think of the environmental impact!”

“I said I might!” she retorts immediately. “Sheesh. Even in my old age, it’s hard to conveniently forget how shitty and unsustainable those damn boats are.”

You pick up your mug and raise it in a salute. “Well, the oceans thank you.”

“My husband doesn’t,” she answers with a sigh. “He’s been dying to book one of those trips that stop all along the Mediterrannean coastline, and I can’t exactly blame him.”

“That is tempting,” you admit. “You’ll have to send photos, if you do end up going.”

“You’ll be sick of me and my photos before the first day is even up,” she promises. Then she pauses, her eyes darting toward the kitchen where silence has fallen in the last few minutes. “Speaking of being sick—you think the vultures are still hovering around in there? I haven’t had lunch yet, and I need the microwave.”

Obligingly, you edge a little closer to the kitchen doorway and poke your head around the frame, scanning for Lottie and her sidekicks. “Coast is clear. Enjoy your lunch, Kyunghee.”

She nods and raises her mug at you, returning your salute. “I always do.”

///

As soon as the work day ends, you fall into your usual routine. Your commute home is easily walkable on nicer days, and though the winter weather is brisker than you’d like, you decide to walk for the sake of stopping at the convenience store on the corner of the block.

Once you arrive back at your apartment, you change into your comfiest sweats and a loose tee. You turn on some music while you throw together some dinner, and settle onto the couch half an hour later with a full plate and Netflix. Television is a welcome distraction from the events of the workday, and you manage to get through three full episodes of your current show before your pesky brain decides to revisit the events of today, replaying the conversations that you’d both had and overheard.

There’s no denying that you’ve been single for quite some time now, and for the most part, it’s been by choice. Ever since graduating from university, you’ve chosen to focus more on your career, and it’s paid off both in terms of the important position you hold in your company and your above average salary. And yet, you can’t help but think back to the gossip you’d overheard earlier—about the supposed tragedy of being single and attending the upcoming holiday party alone. Your mind wanders to Kyunghee’s son, Hoseok, and how he’ll be in attendance this year. You wonder what he’s like, and whether he really is perfect for you, as Kyunghee seems to be so fond of mentioning.

And then your mind goes to Jay.

You met Jay two months ago, on a well-deserved night out after a hellish workweek. The bar was crowded, and the music coming from the neon dancefloor in the back was just loud enough to drown out your inhibitions. That, combined with the alcohol swimming through your system, made you bold. You sashayed your way across the dancefloor, dodging inebriated bodies and swaying limbs as you fixed your attention on the head of pale lavender hair and deliciously broad shoulders that awaits you just behind the bar counter. The bartender is nothing short of gorgeous, and you’ve thrown all caution to the wind. Sure, several other women are eyeing him like he’s their next meal—several men are, too—but you need another drink. And while he prepares it, you plan to flirt.

A lot.

The bar counter is sticky with spilled liquor, but you don’t pay that any mind as you lean across it, the wood digging into the narrow strip of exposed skin left by your cropped top. “Hi!” you call, and the bartender looks up from where he’s just finished pouring a round of shots for a group of raucous young men.

“Hi yourself,” he says, his pillowy lips stretching into an easy smile. “What can I get you?”

You pretend not to notice the way his eyes flicker down to the dip of your cleavage and instead put on the sultriest smile you are capable of mustering. “Vodka soda,” you tell him, injecting a bit of purr into your voice. “A bit of lemon too, if you have it.”

“Trust me, I have it,” he assures, his smile growing as he reaches for a clean glass and a clear bottle. “Name’s Jin, by the way. I’m here all night, if you need anything e—”

A loud clatter and the sound of breaking glass interrupts the rest of his sentence, and all eyes at the bar go to the source of the disturbance. Conversations stutter to a halt, and even the thumping bass of the music seems to dull. Jin darts to the other end of the bar, where you can see that one of several barstools has fallen to the ground. There’s a man on the ground as well, surrounded by shattered glass and spilled dark liquor, and your eyes widen when you realize that you know him.

And arguably, a little too well.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. People are starting to lose interest in the spectacle, turning back to their own conversations and continuing on as if nothing had happened at all. The man is beginning to clamber to his feet, and a few people lend a helping hand as Jin begins barking out orders for everyone to step back so he can sweep up the broken glass. You seize upon the opportunity, latching on to the nearest arm and pulling them close so you can hide behind them. Vaguely, you’re aware of them sputtering in surprise, but you only have eyes for the man who had fallen off his stool, watching him carefully as he brushes himself off and tries to play it cool despite the sizable patch of whiskey soaking his white shirt.

“Hey, uh…” Your human shield is speaking. “Are you okay? You’re squeezing me pretty tight.”

That draws you out of your daze. Abashed, you loosen your grip on his arm and look up into his face, your throat going dry when you realize how handsome he is. His black hair is parted over his forehead, a stray strand falling into warm brown eyes set above a straight nose and an inviting mouth. There’s a freckle above his top lip, just shy of the center, and your inebriated brain wonders just what it would be like to kiss it.

“I, um—” You clear your throat and try again. “Sorry about that. I just didn’t want him to see me.”

Your newfound companion raises an eyebrow and glances over his shoulder at the drunk man, who is now being ushered out of the bar by his buddies. “You know that guy?”

You nod, cringing. “Yeah, his name’s Trent. I… may or may not have dated him for a few months last year.”

The man laughs out loud. “You dated a Trent?”

“What, like you’ve never made a questionable life choice?” you challenge. “Besides, you shouldn’t judge someone based on the sins of their parents. It’s not his fault they gave him a terrible name.”

“Sure, but it is on him for going along with it,” he replies with a shrug. “I would’ve changed my name as soon as I could if my parents had named me Trent. But hey, that’s just one man’s opinion.”

You laugh. “Okay then, Not-Trent.” Relinquishing your grip on his arm, you let your fingers graze his hand before pulling away entirely. “What do you say we continue this conversation over a drink?”

The man, whose name is decidedly not Trent, catches your fingers in his and gives them a gentle squeeze. “Happily.”

One drink turns into two, and then three. By the end of the hour, you are feeling pleasantly warm, the alcohol spreading through your veins like molasses and turning your surroundings into a hazy blur. The music has grown even louder, pounding against your eardrums, and you grab onto Not-Trent’s wrist as he sets his now-empty glass back down onto the counter.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” you ask, raising your voice to be heard over the thumping bassline. “I can’t even hear myself think.”

“The parking lot’s out back,” he suggests. “Why don’t we get some air?”

You nod and stand up on wobbly legs, cursing your decision to wear heels when you stumble into your companion. He steadies you with a gentle but firm hand, and you don’t miss the way his touch lingers on your lower back, his palm warm through the material of your blouse.

Together, the two of you pick your way through the throng of swaying bodies on the dancefloor. The bassline thuds in your ears, dark and hypnotic, and you can feel the reverberations thrumming across the slats of your ribs and echoing in the cavern of your chest like a second heartbeat.

It’s almost a relief, then, when you step out into the cool night air. Your ears continue to ring for a few seconds, but it soon fades and leaves behind only the muted hum of traffic from the street and the faint sound of music from inside. At your side, Not-Trent releases a long breath and leans against the brick wall of the building, and you turn to take in the steep slopes of his side profile as he tilts his head up toward the velvety night sky.

He’s handsome. Dressed in ripped jeans and black leather, he’s a sight to behold, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been craving a bit of intimacy for quite some time now. The alcohol swimming through your system makes you bolder than you normally would be, and you reach out to lay a hand on his arm. He turns toward you with a silent question glimmering in his irises, but you simply step closer, until you’re pinning him against the wall with your body and you’re breathing the same air.

“Hey,” you say, your voice an airy whisper. His eyes are near obsidian in the dimness of the parking lot, illuminated only by the orange glow of the streetlamps on either end, and your gaze flickers down to his mouth before roving to the freckle that sits upon his top lip. “Kiss me?”

Your companion’s eyes widen. His lips part, but no words come out, and you’re about to repeat your question when he finally finds his voice again.

“That’s really… that’s not a good idea.” Awkwardly, he clears his throat, but the hoarseness of his voice and the harsh bob of his Adam’s apple give away his true desires. “Look, you’ve been drinking. We both have, and—”

You cut him off, pushing up to your tiptoes and planting a messy kiss to the soft dip just beneath his bottom lip. “Don’t care,” you mumble against his skin. “I want you.”

Your companion laughs weakly. His hands find their way to your waist and pause there, as if he can’t decide whether to push you away or pull you closer. “You don’t even know me,” he murmurs.

“I don’t have to know you,” you reply. Your fingers drag down his chest, trailing along the delicate silver necklace that rests against the black of his shirt. From the chain hangs a round pendant, the surface engraved with the letter J. Slowly, you trace it with a fingertip, the metal shining even in the dim light, and satisfaction blooms in your heart when your companion’s throat bobs again. “I want you,” you breathe, soft but insistent. “Isn’t that enough?”

“I—” He clears his throat and tries again, and you wonder if he realizes that his hands have slid down to your hips, or that there’s a growing hardness against your lower stomach that’s becoming increasingly harder to ignore. “Look, I’m flattered—really, I am. And you’re… I mean, fuck, you’re gorgeous. But I don’t think we should do anything when you’re clearly not in the right frame of mind to be making this kind of decision, and—”

“And, nothing.” You wind your arms around his neck, pressing close and grinding subtly against the bulge in his pants. You smirk when he releases a low hiss from between his teeth, and hide it by laying a trail of kisses along the stretch of bare skin exposed by the dip of his collar. “Stop being such a gentleman,” you whisper. Your fingers trail down his chest, past the silver of his pendant and down to the faded denim of his jeans, teasing at the cool metal of his belt buckle. “I want this. But if you’re not interested, I can always go back in there and—”

The rest of your sentence dies in your throat. Your companion has tugged you flush against him in one smooth motion, and your gasp is cut off by the firm press of his mouth against yours. Immediately, you melt into the kiss, and a moan tears from your lips when he spins you around and pins you against the brick wall of the building.

“You’re a spoiled little thing, huh?” His breath fans hot against your cheeks, and you shiver when you meet his eyes and see the dark promise reflected there. “Used to getting what you want, huh, princess?”

Your breath hitches at the endearment—something your companion doesn’t miss. “Oh, you like that?” He chuckles hoarsely, and when he speaks again it’s in a rasp that sends heat straight to your core. “What else do you like, hmm? You want me to be rough with you, princess? Or should I be gentle and treat you like a queen?”

You reach up, raking your fingers through his hair and skimming across the soft strands of his undercut before finding purchase at his nape. “You talk too much,” you whisper.

And then you’re crushing your mouth back against his, whining when he immediately takes back control of the kiss. His grip slides downward, his fingertips digging into the skin just above the curve of your ass, and you squeak when he grabs the back of your thigh and hooks your leg around his waist.

“You feel that?” he rasps into your ear, nipping at the delicate shell and chortling when you keen. Your skirt has ridden up dangerously high on your spread thighs, and you let out a soft whimper when he grinds harshly against your center. The lace of your panties and the denim of his jeans are the last barricades between you, and you wonder, vaguely, whether your companion has a bit of an exhibitionist streak when he slides one of your sleeves down your shoulder and begins kissing a trail down to the swell of your cleavage. “You feel how hard you’ve gotten me?”

You lean down, kissing the soft spot where his jaw meets his ear before letting your teeth graze against his skin. “Why don’t you do something about it then?”

He hisses out a sharp breath, his hands tightening their hold on your hips. “You’ve got quite the mouth on you, huh? I can’t wait to make you eat your words.”

Any retort you may have had is interrupted by a sudden swell of music and the sound of a slamming door. Whirling to face the source of the noise, you immediately spot a familiar head of lavender hair atop broad shoulders encapsulated in the black uniform of the bar. Jin hasn’t noticed the two of you yet, his attention fixated on his cell phone screen, but he looks up when you let out a little squeak of surprise and shove your companion’s chest in an attempt to create some distance between you.

“Hey.” Jin raises a hand in greeting, a knowing smirk curling his lips. “This phone call shouldn’t be too long, so please. Don’t stop the party on my behalf.”

Heat floods to your cheeks. There isn’t much use protesting against his insinuation, considering the rather compromising position you’re in. Much to your relief, though, your companion simply huffs out a chuckle and waves Jin off. “Thanks, man, but we’ll get out of your hair.” Lowering his voice, he turns back to you. “Coming, princess?”

You nod. He offers you his hand, and you take it gratefully, adjusting your skirt so that it drapes properly over your hips and thighs again.

“Have a good night!” Jin calls after you, amusement lacing every word. You can’t work up the nerve to respond, and luckily, you don’t have to. Your companion leads you around the corner of the building, where several rows of cars are parked beneath an orange streetlamp. On this side, the exterior brick wall is painted with a mural, and you admire the colorful galaxies and nebulae swirling amidst silvery white stars and the word serendipity spray-painted in pale blue.

The last car in the row is parked just beneath the letter Y, and it’s here that your companion stops. The sleek black vehicle has an almost vintage feel to it, and you glance up when you hear the jingle of metal.

“I’m guessing this is yours?”

He nods, pulling a set of keys from the pocket of his leather jacket and inserting one into the lock. “Yeah. You like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” you tell him, tracing the edge of the passenger window “Makes my car look like a total piece of shit by comparison.”

Your companion chuckles, pulling open the driver’s side door, and you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the window as he presses a button to unlock the rest of the doors. Your hair’s a bit of a mess and your mascara has smudged beneath your right eye, and you hurriedly swipe at it as your companion turns his attention back to you.

“So,” he says. “Now what? I can give you a ride home, if you want.”

Deliberately, you let your gaze drop down to his crotch, where his bulge—albeit waning—is still visible. “Seriously? I thought you were going to… what was it again? Make me eat my words?”

And just like that, it’s as if a switch has flipped. His eyes darken to obsidian, his lips settling into a stern line, and you barely have time to draw in a breath before he’s caging you against the side of his car and molding his mouth to yours. Your lips part beneath the onslaught, and he wastes no time in dipping inside to explore, licking into you until you’re both breathless.

“Inside,” he breathes once you’ve broken apart, and you instantly obey. You wrench the door open and all but tumble into the backseat, and he isn’t far behind as he slots himself between your spread thighs. Your hands fly to his shoulders where you help him shuck off his leather jacket, tossing it carelessly to the front where it lands in a heap on the dashboard before focusing your attention on the hem of his black t-shirt. Your companion obliges you as you push it upward to expose his toned abdomen, grabbing it by the collar and pulling it off the rest of the way when your reach falls a little short in the cramped interior of the backseat.

“Your turn,” he whispers when you try to reach for his belt, his hands settling around your wrists. “It’s only fair, princess.”

Pouting, you let your hands fall limp in his grasp, and he chuckles as he leans down to pacify you with a kiss. Deft fingers find the hem of your blouse, pushing it up until you can twist out of the material. You throw it aside with no regard for where it lands on the ground, and lay back as your companion drinks you in, his dark gaze raking across the lacy black lingerie that decorates your curves and skims you like a second skin. “Fuck,” he breathes, his voice hoarse with a combination of amazement and disbelief. “You’re stunning.”

You smile, trailing a fingertip from the dip of his collarbone down to the silver necklace that sits prettily against his bare chest. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you tell him, tracing the letter engraved into his pendant. “Jay.”

Your companion—newly dubbed Jay—smiles back. “You’re something else, princess,” he murmurs, before leaning down to kiss you again. He explores your mouth thoroughly—languidly—before moving down to nip at your neck, and already, you can feel the beginnings of marks beginning to form, blossoming across your skin as irrefutable proof of your tryst.

It isn’t long before Jay frees you from your bra, watching with carnal fascination as your breasts spill out of the lacy material. You whine when he reaches out to cup one, his palm hot against your bare skin, and he smirks crookedly when a pinch to your nipple makes your back arch off the leather of the seat. “So pretty,” he rasps. “I can’t wait to see how you look stretched around my cock.”

“Stop waiting, then,” you tell him, trying again for his belt buckle. This time, he lets you fumble it open, leaning back to watch you work with hooded eyes and a lazy little smile. Emboldened, you push aside the denim of his jeans and free his cock from the confines of his underwear. He’s hard and hot and heavy in your palm, and your tongue darts out instinctively at the sight of the pearlescent precum beading the tip.

“Jay,” you murmur, thumbing across the head of his erection and smirking when he hisses in pleasure. “Fuck me.”

Jay seems to consider your demand, mischief flitting across his features before he manages to school his expression into something more neutral. “Where are your manners, princess?” he asks, pushing your hand away and giving himself a few long, slow strokes. “Say please, if you want it so bad.”

For a moment, you consider refusing. Jay seems to be the type of man who enjoys a good game, but between the state of his cock and the earlier interruption, you’re pretty sure he’s nearing his limit. And even if he isn’t, you are. And so, you shelve your pride for the time being, and trail a hand down the length of your bared body as you bat your lashes up at him. “Fuck me, Jay,” you repeat. “Please. Want your cock so bad.”

His answering smile is equal parts amusement and satisfaction, and altogether sinful. “That’s my girl,” he rasps, before shoving your panties aside. Lining the head of his cock up, he enters you in one smooth thrust, and you moan as your walls stretch to accommodate his girth. You’re more than wet enough to take him in his entirety, your eyes fluttering shut when he bottoms out, and he groans hoarsely as he takes a second to relish the feeling of your walls gripping him so tightly.

“Fuck. You’re so wet, princess.” Jay dips a thumb into your slick, spreading it across your clit and rubbing a few experimental circles around the sensitive nub. He groans when you clench around him, his hips stuttering, and you squeeze around him again just to hear him grit out another curse. “Shit. I’m not going to last long at this rate.”

“Don’t care,” you murmur, rocking against him and sighing when the motion sends him a little deeper into your core. “Just fuck me, Jay. Please.”

Jay leans in, a dark lock of hair falling across his forehead as he plants an indulgent kiss on your waiting mouth. “Anything for you, princess,” he breathes. Slowly, he pulls back until only the tip of his cock remains inside you. Then he’s slamming forward, and you can’t even find it in yourself to care about the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin or the way the car rocks. Jay’s thumbing across your clit in tight circles that he times perfectly with the rock of his hips, and you wonder whether the rapidly building pleasure in your belly is due to your dry spell or if he’s just that good. You can feel every inch of him as he fills you up repeatedly, his brows furrowed in concentration and his dark hair flopping as he drives deeper in search of the spot that will have you seeing stars.

You know he’s found it when the pleasure in your belly spikes, your back arching off the backseat. Your skin is sticky against the dark leather and you’re certain the sweat gathering at your temples has destroyed the last of your makeup, but Jay alleviates your concerns with a particularly well-timed thrust and a harsh nip to the soft spot at your clavicle. You keen out something unintelligible, and his lips stretch into a smirk against your skin.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Cum for me, princess.”

That’s all it takes for the mounting pressure to snap. Your body collapses into a searing orgasm, the pleasure flaring out like a supernova and spreading through your veins like wildfire. “F-fuck, Jay—” you gasp, your fingers scrabbling at his back for purchase and no doubt leaving scratches in their wake. “Fuck, you feel so—”

The remainder of your words trail off into garbled nonsense, and Jay huffs out a strained chuckle as he begins chasing after his own orgasm, rutting against you in a way that both prolongs your pleasure and sustains his own. “Shit,” he groans, his eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck, that’s it. Look at you—taking my cock so well. So pretty and perfect and—”

Whatever he was going to say dissolves into a groan as he gives a few more erratic thrusts before his release overwhelms him. Creamy warmth floods through you, and you rub his back tiredly as his head drops onto your shoulder, his breath flaring hot against your skin as he rides out his orgasm.

It takes several long seconds for the pleasure to recede. Your legs are still shaky when Jay pulls away, straightening up and tucking himself back into his jeans. There’s an empty ache in your core now that you are no longer stuffed full of his cock, and already, you are missing the feeling. Still, you push that aside as you sit up, adjusting your panties and wincing at the wetness that soaks the material and sticks to your skin.

“So,” Jay says after a moment’s silence, and you glance over at him when he huffs out a short chuckle. “That was fun.”

“Not bad at all,” you agree weakly, an irrepressible smile tugging at your lips.

Jay grins. It’s a bright, infectious grin—and it’s one that you’ve already grown rather fond of in the short period of time you’ve known him. It’s a grin that showcases his perfect teeth and crinkles his eyes into crescents, and one that all but forces you to grin back.

“Here, give me your phone,” he says, and you watch as he punches in his number once you hand it over. “Just in case you ever wanna do this again,” he tells you, handing it back. “Don’t be a stranger, princess.”

You glance down at his contact information, saved under the moniker you’d given him and affixed with a short string of emojis. “I won’t,” you tell him, chuckling. “In fact, I just might take you up on the offer.”

-

The screen of your laptop has long since gone dark, and you stretch your arms overhead before waking it again. Rolling your shoulders, you navigate back to the main Netflix menu, hovering over the resume button and watching the trailer loop in the background.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about Jay often. You’ve texted each other quite often since that night in his car—usually when you’re bored and alone and have had a few too many glasses of wine in the evenings. You’ve found yourself tapping on his name instinctively during those odd, ambiguous hours—when late night and early morning meld together and you’re aching for a bit of relief.

And as if he knows you’re thinking about him, your phone buzzes against the coffee table, the screen lighting up with a familiar name.

[11:22pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinkin about u, pretty girl 😘

It’s followed by an image, and your heart rate picks up, thudding loudly against your ribs as you open it.

Fuck.

Your memories of Jay’s face—made all the more hazy by the alcohol and the amount of time elapsed since your first and only meeting—truly don’t do him justice. Though the photograph cuts off just above his nose, you can still admire the sharp angle of his jaw and the fullness of his puckered lips. His skin is golden against the white of his t-shirt, and you lick your lips before thumbing across your screen to respond.

[11:23pm] You: yeah? what else are you thinking about, hmm?

His response is instantaneous.

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinking about that pretty little pussy of yours

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: how good it looked in that pic u sent me tuesday 👅

You barely even notice the way your hand begins trailing down your body, pushing aside the elastic waistband of your sweats. It’s as if you’re on autopilot, as your fingers find their way to the damp spot growing on your panties.

Yeah? you write back with your free hand, already teasing at your clothed folds with the other. Tell me more.

///

It’s an uncharacteristically warm Friday morning when you find yourself in the elevator with Jimin, a good friend of yours who works on one of the lower levels of your office building. “Morning,” he says as he steps in, a large iced coffee in hand despite the fact that it’s still very much the middle of winter. Then he squints, leaning a little closer. “Oh my god. You got laid!”

“Oh my god, not so loud!” you hiss, whacking him on the shoulder and jabbing the button to close the elevator doors. “And no, not exactly. I’ve just been texting Jay.”

“Texting, sure.” Jimin mimes air quotes around the word and rolls his eyes. “You’re sexting him, and we all know it. How many pictures of his dick do you have saved on your phone now?”

“Oh my—” You sigh, trailing off. “Can we not talk about this right now?”

“Right, of course.” Jimin takes a sip of his coffee and pretends to check his watch. “When would you like to talk about it then? Do you need to check your calendar? Can I book an appointment for later this afternoon?”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Shut up.”

Jimin just grins, his lips puckered around his straw. “So, how’s Jay? Have you asked for his real name yet?”

You shrug. “What’s the point? It’s not like we’re friends or anything. We’ve literally only met the one time.”

“Yeah, but that’s just because you’re a coward,” Jimin points out. “What’s stopping you from meeting up with him again? You have his number. You have at least one photo of his dick. Ask him out already!”

“It’s not that easy, though,” you sigh. The elevator doors open to let a few more people in, and you move to the side and lower your voice so that only Jimin can hear. “Jay—he’s not exactly boyfriend material. I mean, we fucked in his car the first night we met.”

“So?” Jimin frowns and takes another sip of his iced coffee. “You talk about things besides sex, don’t you? You definitely told him about your goldfish dying, at least. I mean, you told him before you even told me!”

“Yes I did, and he was appropriately sympathetic about Mustache’s passing, unlike some people,” you sniff. “Get over it already, won’t you?”

“Never,” Jimin replies, ignoring your pointed jab. “I’m sure you only told him because you knew you could get a sympathy sext out of it. How many dick pics did you get out of that night, anyway?”

“You’re gross,” you tell him, punching him in the arm. “Not to mention that’s exactly why Jay’s not boyfriend material. He’s perfectly happy with—whatever it is we’re doing. I can’t just ruin that by asking him to get dinner.” You frown, gnawing on your bottom lip. “I don’t want to make this into something that it’s not.”

Jimin hesitates. “Fine, okay. I guess I can understand that.”

“Yeah.”

There’s a pause, as the elevator makes a few more stops. You watch the numbers crawl higher, and know that you’ll soon have to part ways with your friend..

“Hey.” You nudge Jimin with your shoulder, just as the elevator doors close and you begin the ascent to his floor. “Wanna know something interesting?”

Jimin looks up from his phone, where he’s scrolling through Twitter. “Always.”

“My boss’ son is coming to the party tomorrow.”

Jimin’s eyebrows disappear into his ashy blond hair at your revelation. “Kyunghee’s son? Hoseok, or whatever?”

You chuckle. “The one and only. She’s found about a million ways to bring him up in conversation this past week. She thinks we’re a match made in heaven.”

“Wow.” Jimin releases a long breath. “I wonder what he’s like, then.”

You shrug, adjusting the strap of your work tote over your shoulder. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

///

The morning of the party, you wake up to an empty refrigerator. Half stale cereal and the last dregs of milk from the carton become your breakfast, and you munch on that as you mull over the contents of your closet. You’re still in your pajamas, but you pull out your comfiest jeans and a sweater to change into after you finish eating. Then you turn to your collection of dresses, rifling through them and mentally debating the merits of each material and color.

You could go in one of two directions tonight. On the one hand, this is still a work party, and as such your attire should probably maintain a certain level of decorum. But on the other, you’re meeting Hoseok Jung for the first time tonight. You aren’t necessarily looking to start anything with the man, of course, but you do want to look good. With that in mind, you eventually settle on a deep red number that you pull out of the very back of your closet, made of a silky material that skims your curves and accentuates your best assets. Laying it on the bed, you begin your hunt for a pair of matching shoes. Twenty minutes of searching and another five of agonizing later, you step into the bathroom, intent on showering and getting on with the rest of your day.

Upon exiting the bathroom, you decide that tackling the state of your refrigerator takes top priority over your other weekend errands. Sitting down at the dining table, you take stock of what you have in your pantry, planning out your meals for the upcoming week and making a list of what you need to purchase in order to make them a reality. It’s just after one in the afternoon when you exit your apartment with a completed grocery list and your purse stuffed full of reusable canvas bags. The store is a short walk from where you live, and you decide to put in your earbuds as your feet navigate the familiar route. The temperature is surprisingly mild for winter, and the sun shines bright from its perch in the cloudless blue sky. It’s perfect weather for a walk, and the fresh air clears your mind and eases your heart.

At the grocery store, you forego the stack of baskets and instead grab a shopping cart. Weaving your way up and down the aisles, you check items off the list on your phone one by one. Eventually, you find yourself in the cereal section, grabbing a box of granola before turning to where your favorite cereal normally sits. It isn’t there, and you turn in a full circle, confused, until your gaze finally lands on the familiar box on the top shelf.

Great.

Sighing, you push up to your tiptoes, stretching your arm as far as it can reach. Your fingertips graze the shelf, but you can’t quite get a grip on the box itself. Glancing down, you scan the bottommost shelf and wonder if you can step on it to give yourself a boost.

“Need a hand?”

The voice comes from behind you, and a vague sense of familiarity sparks in your brain. Slowly, you turn around, and your entire body freezes when your gaze slides up to the speaker’s face.

“Jay.” The syllable escapes you in a near whisper. “H-hi.”

“Hey.”

Jay stands before you, looking like sin incarnate in a faded denim jacket, black sweatpants slung low on his hips, and not much else. At his throat, his silver necklace sparkles, the silver J pendant glinting beneath the fluorescent lights of the store, and you’re suddenly beyond grateful that you decided to put on a decent sweater before leaving.

“Here,” he says, stepping forward until he’s close enough that you can smell his cologne—sandalwood tinged with sweet citrus. “Let me help you with that.”

The sudden proximity has your breath hitching in your throat. Your heart thuds erratically against your ribs as he reaches around you, the denim flaps of his jacket gaping in a way that exposes even more of his bare chest. By the time he pulls back with your cereal box in hand, you feel almost faint, belatedly realizing that you’d been holding your breath.

“You wanted this, right?” Jay asks, and you aren’t sure if you’re imagining the innuendo underlying his words or the teasing inflection of the syllables.

“Y-yeah, that’s the one,” you manage, fighting to quell the uneven tempo of your heartbeat as you accept the box. “Thanks.”

“Happy to help,” he replies. Then he leans in, close enough that you can feel his warm breath fanning your cheek as he murmurs his next sentence into your ear. “Anything for you, princess. You know that.”

Heat floods across your cheeks. Your heart skips two full beats before taking off into a sprint, and it’s impossible to ignore the way your core begins to thrum, as if anticipating a repeat of that night you first met all those weeks ago. Almost instinctively, your eyes dart up to the ceiling where the security cameras are, and Jay follows the trajectory of your gaze with a low chuckle and a soft brush of your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Sorry, princess. As much as I’d love to get my hands on you, I’m kind of on a time crunch today.”

You can’t stop the wave of disappointment that washes over you, even if you’re in the exact same boat. “Rain check, then?”

“Rain check,” he agrees. Slowly, you reach up to touch the engraved silver pendant resting against his chest, rubbing it between your fingertips before tracing the curve of the J, and he catches your wandering fingers between his and presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“You know how to reach me,” he murmurs with a mischievous wink. His gaze lingers even after he’s released your hand, and you clear your throat awkwardly before turning to deposit your cereal box into your shopping cart.

The two of you go your separate ways then, exchanging goodbyes. You finish the rest of your grocery shopping in a daze, idly going through the motions at checkout and letting muscle memory guide you back home. Your arms are aching by the time you step past the threshold of your apartment, and you heave your shopping bags up onto the kitchen counter with a relieved sigh before returning to the entryway to toe off your shoes. You throw together a sandwich as you unpack your groceries, taking a big bite as you walk back to your bedroom to look at the dress you’ve picked out. Pacing over to the closet, you double-check your shoe choice. Briefly, you debate whether or not to wear flats instead of heels.

There are still a few hours left before you have to start getting ready, so you take the last of your sandwich back to the kitchen and whip up a smoothie to go with it. You scroll through your phone as you eat, browsing through the latest news headlines and scrolling through your social media accounts. Just before six o’clock, as the sun starts setting beyond the horizon and casting long shadows across your living room, you start getting changed. You snap a photo in the mirror once you’re dressed, pulling up Jimin’s name in your phone and sending it to him.

[6:13pm] You: last chance to come tonight

Your phone buzzes with a response almost immediately.

[6:14pm] Jimin: nah. i’d hate to step on hoseok’s toes.

You laugh. Not so fast, you text back. We don’t even know anything about the guy yet. What if he’s boring? Or sexist?

[6:15pm] Jimin: if u think kyunghee raised a sexist you’re seriously deranged

[6:16pm] Jimin: now stop taking selfies and get your ass out the door! you’re gonna be late!!!!

///

Each year, the holiday party tends to be a little over the top, and this year is no exception. The company has bought out the entirety of a restaurant for the evening, and you glance around in amazement at the twinkling lights and lush evergreen boughs decorating the walls and strung up along the ceiling. An assortment of sparkling ornaments hangs from the massive tree in the far corner, interspersed between silver tinsel and more lights. Grabbing a champagne flute off a passing server’s tray, you head farther into the restaurant, skirting around tables draped in creamy linen and greeting your colleagues and friends.

“Is she alone?”

“Figures.”

The voices come from the direction of the open bar, and somehow, you just know that they’re talking about you. Lottie, Hyejin, and Sandra are clustered in the corner with glasses of wine in hand, casting glances around the restaurant and gossiping about anything and everything with a pulse. You’re sorely tempted to grab the nearest pitcher of water off a table and pour it over their heads, but you suppress the urge and instead head over with a saccharine smile. “So lovely to see you, {Name},” Lottie says as you approach.

“I love your dress,” Sandra adds. “Very slimming.”

“Thanks,” you reply, putting on your brightest, fakest smile. “Yours is great too. How are you and your husband enjoying the party so far?”

Sandra’s face sours, and you hide your smirk in your champagne flute. Maybe it’s petty to bring up her rocky relationship, but you’ve been subject to snide comments from Sandra and her friends for years now and it’s become increasingly hard for you to bite your tongue. A few tables away, you spot Sandra’s husband, Rodney, take an enormous gulp of his whiskey and wince as it burns down his throat.

“We’re all having a wonderful time, aren’t we, ladies?” Lottie cuts in when Sandra takes too long to answer. “Hyejin’s date is over there with Rodney, and my boyfriend is fetching himself a drink. You remember Dev, don’t you?”

You nod, even though it’s a lie. “Sure. Say hi to him for me.”

Lottie’s lips curve up into a smile, her head tilting to the side, and you’re suddenly reminded of a snake rearing its head back for the kill. “So, what about you? Have you brought someone tonight, or—?”

“Hi ladies!” Kyunghee materializes at your side, her lips painted a festive red shade to match her dress. She’s wearing the disingenuous smile that she reserves for the resident gossips of your office, and you try not to let your relief show on your face when Lottie’s attention refocuses on your manager.

“So good to see you, Kyunghee,” she simpers. “Have you been here long?”

“Not as long as you,” your manager replies, nodding at the near-empty wineglass in her hand. “I see we’re already making a dent in the wine supply, and you’re falling behind, {Name}. Why don’t we go remedy that, hmm?”

She doesn’t give you a chance to respond, grabbing your arm and leading you away. Kyunghee is surprisingly spry for a woman her age, and you follow after her with some difficulty as she marches through the throngs of conversing people, all the way to the line at the open bar.

“I’d like you to meet someone,” she says, gesturing at the man standing at the end of the line with his back to you. “{Name}, this is my son, Hoseok.”

The man turns around at the sound of his name, a warm, affable smile stretched across his face. “Hi, I’m H—” he begins, but he’s cut off by your sharp intake of breath. His eyes go wide, his smile fading as his mouth falls open, and you’re certain you’re wearing an even more dumbfounded expression. “It’s you,” he says, his voice hoarse.

“Wh-what… how…” You trail off, speechless. The words flounder and die in your throat as your brain struggles to process this development, and you practically feel the way the gears in your head churn to a stuttering halt.

Because this man standing before you, the one that Kyunghee has just introduced as her son, is none other than Jay. He looks completely and utterly devastating in a navy waistcoat and matching slacks, a green tie shaped like a Christmas tree knotted loosely around the white collar of his shirt. His dark hair is parted, his undercut exposed, and you can’t tear your gaze away from the loose strand that has fallen across his forehead.

“H-hi.”

Jay—Hoseok—swallows. “Hi.”

Kyunghee glances between the two of you, her brows furrowing. “I take it you two already know each other?”

Hoseok’s ears begin taking on a scarlet tinge, the color spreading to his cheeks as he struggles to find his vocabulary again. “I—yeah. Yeah, we’ve met.”

“Right. Do I even want to know how?” she asks dubiously, before shaking her head and huffing out a sigh. “No, forget I asked. I don’t want to know. I’ll just leave you two to… catch up.”

Waving goodbye, Kyunghee disappears back into the crowd of partygoers milling around. Hoseok turns back to you, sucking in a deep breath, and you fight the urge to stare down at your toes as his gaze roves across your face.

“I can’t believe this,” he says, breaking the silence that’s fallen between you at last. “My mom’s been talking about you for months, but I never imagined that it’d be you.”

“You’re telling me,” you reply, finally having recovered your voice. “Kyunghee brings you up all the time, but I never thought… I mean, we didn’t even know each other’s names, and now…” You shrug. “Here we both are.”

“It’s a pretty crazy coincidence, huh?”

“Definitely.”

A beat passes, and then two. You’re fully aware that you’re staring, but you don’t dare blink, afraid that he’ll disappear if you close your eyes. Of all the things that you thought might happen tonight, this particular meeting wasn’t even close to making the list. Never would you have thought that the man you only knew as Jay would turn out to be Kyunghee’s son. Never would you have connected Jay to the photographed little boy in yellow suspenders on Kyunghee’s desk, or realized that they were one and the same.

From behind you, someone loudly clears their throat. Another voice calls for you to get a move on, already, and both you and Hoseok belatedly realize that you are still standing in line for the open bar. Hoseok’s eyes go wide again, and you nearly tread on his toes when you both try to move forward. “After you,” he says with a chuckle, gesturing for you to go in front of him, and that’s enough to break the tension. You step ahead of him with a laugh, catching up to the line, and Hoseok doesn’t stray far as he follows your lead.

“So, what are you drinking?” he asks, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Vodka soda with a twist?”

“Actually, I think I’m going to stick with wine tonight,” you reply, peering at the bottles lined up on the counter. “What about you?”

“Hmm. Jack and coke, I think. Nothing else is really calling my name right now.”

Grabbing your drinks, the two of you begin searching for a place to sit. You spot Kyunghee at a table near the front, and she smiles knowingly and offers you a thumbs-up when she catches your eye. Eventually, you settle on a table near the Christmas tree, the lights glimmering off the glasses and reflecting off your knife as you pick it up to butter a slice of crusty bread from the basket in the center. Hoseok follows your lead, grabbing a piece for himself, and the two of you munch in silence for a few seconds before Hoseok breaks it.

“You know, my mom says you’re the perfect girl for me” he says with a dry little chuckle. “Think she’s right?”

“I don’t know,” you answer. “It’s funny, though—Kyunghee’s been telling me the same thing. She sings your praises all the time.”

Hoseok laughs and scratches the back of his neck. “Oh, jeez, that’s kind of embarrassing. I’m glad she’s saying good things, at least.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” you tell him, grinning. “She’s only shown us one photo album from your childhood.”

His face crumples. “Was it the Disneyland one?”

You nod, fighting back laughter, and watch as Hoseok groans and lets his forehead meet the linen-covered tabletop with a dull thunk.

“I don’t like rollercoasters,” he mumbles into the tablecloth, his voice muffled by the material. “They make me queasy.”

“Even now?” you ask, and he nods.

“Yep.”

The clinking of a fork against a wineglass—amplified and broadcast through an array of invisible speakers built into the restaurant’s walls—interrupts any further conversation. You twist in your seat to watch your company’s leadership give their opening remarks, listening as they congratulate everyone for a great year and wish you a happy holiday season. The servers begin going out with plates of food, and you thank them as they set yours down. Hoseok does the same before raising his glass in your direction, clearing his throat and offering you a crooked little smile.

“Here’s to second meetings.”

“Third, if you count the store earlier,” you correct, and he chuckles and nods in agreement before clinking his drink against yours.

You spend the entirety of dinner chatting with Hoseok, getting to know him beyond the few facts Kyunghee has mentioned and what little you’ve gleaned from texting him the last two months. He tells you all about his dance studio, Hope World, where he teaches both contemporary dance and the occasional Pilates class. You find out that in addition to rollercoasters, he also dislikes sour foods and raisins, but he loves mint chocolate and sweet and sour pork. He also has a very low tolerance for alcohol—something he tells you as he tilts the rest of his drink into his mouth. “Should I be worried?” you ask as he sets his glass back down, and he chuckles and shakes his head, sending the loose tendril of hair flopping across his forehead.

Dessert is served, and subsequently eaten. The music is turned up, and people slowly begin finding their way to the open space that serves as an impromptu dancefloor. Hoseok rises to his feet and extends a hand toward you, and you only hesitate for the briefest of seconds before accepting it. He leads you out amongst the other swaying couples, his hand finding its way to the curve of your waist, and you rest your hand on his shoulder as he begins guiding you in a slow, simple waltz.

“So?” Hoseok’s voice is a low murmur, soft and gentle against the shell of your ear. “What’s the verdict?”

You blink. “The verdict?”

Even without looking, you can tell that he’s smiling. You can hear it in the lilt of his voice, and imagine it in the curve of his lips. “About me,” he clarifies, carefully pulling back so you can spin in a circle beneath his outstretched arm. “About us. My mom will never let me hear the end of it if she turns out to be right, but I still wanna know. So what are you thinking?”

“Are you asking if I think we’re perfect for each other?” you ask, giggling. “I don’t know if I believe in all that, to be quite honest. Destiny and soulmates—I mean, doesn’t it seem a little too good to be true?”

Hoseok hums. “Maybe. But considering all that’s happened to us in the last couple of months, don’t you think there’s a chance that it's all more than simple coincidence?”

“Maybe,” you concede. “Still, I don’t know if I can give you a verdict just yet. We haven’t even gone on a date.”

“We did do things a little backwards,” Hoseok admits, tugging you close and winding his arm around your waist. “Let me make it up to you, then. Are you free tomorrow?”

“What if I am?” you challenge.

“Then, I’d like to take you out for breakfast,” he replies without missing a beat.

The prospect of a proper meal with Hoseok Jung does something funny to your insides. Still, something makes you hesitate, and you avert your gaze as you search for your next words. “I wasn’t expecting to end tonight with a date,” you admit slowly. “I honestly didn’t even think you were interested in… well, anything beyond sex, to be honest.”

Hoseok’s face creases into a frown, and you look up again when he murmurs your name. “I understand why you would think that,” he says. “Really, I do. But honestly? I had every intention of texting you and asking you out properly. I was going to play it cool and wait a few days, which was stupid in retrospect. And then you texted me first.”

“I texted y—” You trail off. “Oh, god.”

“It seemed like you’d been drinking,” Hoseok says with a shrug, and you press a finger to his lips before he can say anything more. You remember the night in question, and you remember the bottle of wine you’d consumed. And you definitely remember the photographs you’d sent of yourself, and the ones Hoseok had been kind enough to send in return.

“Wait, so you were going to ask me out? And then I… I sexted you?”

Hoseok nods, and you groan and bury your face into his chest.

“I can’t believe this,” you mutter, and you feel laughter rumble through his chest before a hand comes up to stroke along your back.

“Believe me, I’m not complaining,” he assures you. “But I’d still really like to take you out, so what do you say?”

His gaze doesn’t leave yours for a second as he awaits your answer, and your heart skips a beat when you look up to see the earnestness in his eyes and the hesitant smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Breakfast sounds wonderful,” you whisper, and the smile that blossoms on your companion’s face is nothing short of radiant.

“Good,” he says. “Great. Breakfast tomorrow, then. Now, can I kiss you?”

You’re already pushing up to your tiptoes, your fingers fisting in the soft hair at his nape. “God, yes.”

///

“Hey, you made it!”

You beam. “Hi.”

You and Hoseok are about to commence your first date, having just sat down at a cozy little café for breakfast. Hoseok has pulled your chair out in true gentlemanly fashion, and you can’t help but smile over your menu at the few lingering snowflakes that have yet to melt into his dark hair.

“So, here we are,” you remark. “Our fourth meeting.”

Hoseok’s lips stretch into his signature grin, breathtakingly bright and infectious. “And hopefully many more.”

You grin at him. “Yeah? Too bad this is breakfast, because I’d drink to that.”

He leans forward, his grin widening. “Next time,” he says as his hand finds its way around yours, his fingers slotting comfortably into the spaces between your own. “We can do dinner, maybe. Or I can cook for you. But for now, I’m just happy that we’re finally doing this.”

You give his hand a soft squeeze. “Me too.”

“Just promise me one thing?”

The sudden seriousness of his tone has your brow furrowing in concern. “Sure, of course,” you reassure. “What is it?”

He winces. “Please don’t tell my mom about all the dick pics.”

[kiridarling]

𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐂!

izuku midoriya | tw!guns, single mom!reader, bouncer!izuku, domestic stuffs, tit sucking, mommy!calling ah, AND daddy!calling oh my, breeding kink, breaking the bed (futon). minors dni!

— 5.4k words

“When’s the last time someone touched you like this, hmm?”

The alley is dark.

There's a disconcerting feeling as you step deeper into the quiet darkness,

You turn to look at the door you entered this dank place from, but it's just as dark and grimy as the walls. You're almost positive that if you rested a hand against them, it would return pitch black, and if you stood in one spot for more than five minutes, the sticky booze would glue your heels to the floor. You're surprised when it doesn't.

"Hand over your wallet and no one gets hurt, pretty lady."

He's a smarmy looking bastard and as thin as they come. It’s clear this isn’t something he does on the regular, the pointed gun quivering so much you worry a trembling might slip and pull the trigger. And you fucking freeze, blood running below zero and heart plummeting because why you?

And fuck, you’ve got a kid at home with a babysitter, and there are many outcomes to this situation, none of them too cute.

"I said hand it over," he grunts, pressing forwards. Your back hits the grimy brick wall as your eyes dart to the mouth of the alley, where life continues, where cars race past, but no one sees a damn thing. Fuck. Fuck.

And it's not like you have much—hell, you may be a mother, but you know how to party. You squeeze your eyes shut, grip tightening around your purse as you clumsily fumble through it and the man steps closer. You toss all you have to his feet. A fucking twenty. He raises an eyebrow before eyeing your watch. He lets out an unimpressed snort.

"That it?"

You nod, taking a shaky step back.

"Well, that ain't fuckin' enough."

There's a click and you're positive it's him turning off the safety. His face twists like he's about to shoot a bullseye, and you squeeze your eyes as tight as they can go.

Until the looming shadow of the stranger disappears, followed by a sound that's distinctly skin on skin. Er—skin on bone.

You don't watch the fight. Frankly, you don't want to, and you still get to hear your protector spew a litany of curses and disrespectful phrases that should really only come from someone's mother. You don't even open your eyes, still screwed shut with a vice grip around your purse and wallet.

"Um, excuse me Miss? Are you alright?"

Your protector's eyes are much bigger than you expect them to be—and green. You realize you remember seeing those eyes, hardened from across the club.

He's hesitant to touch you, hands rising and falling and rising again. Though you suppose a hug seems like it'd be a little abrasive, it also sounds like the exact kind of thing you need right now.

"U-Um, yeah I'm..." you start, before noticing your attackers body bloodied and wrapped like a pretzel on the ground. "...Fine..."

He sounds like he's going to pass out—he doesn't.

"We should um, we should get you home," As he speaks, the greenette shuffles you out of the alley and into the streetlamp light, blinking himself out of something before holding a meaty hand out of formality. "I'm Izuku by the way. Izuku Midoriya."

For such a big guy, Izuku seems rather timid, and yet, seeing him at the entrance with crossed arms in a black tee and a scowl in the club doesn't give you much insight into his personality. Which makes you wonder why he became the club's bouncer in the first place.

"Um, nice to meet you," you nod, trying to suppress the shake in your hands as you take his. "Y/N."

Izuku smiles at that, and even though you're a regular, you've never actually seen him beam on the job. "Cool! Cool, so...um, I don't really feel comfortable letting you walk home...alone..."

You nod—he panics as if you aren't already on board.

"'Cause it's like, a conscience thing, you know? Like, I really won't be able to sleep tonight otherwise," Izuku defends, shoving a clumsy hand in his green curls. "B-But if you don't feel comfortable with it, or something, that's totally fine! I know what you just experienced was horrible, and you probably do—"

"Izuku."

"Yeah?" He perks up. It seems as if the circuit his mind runs finally comes to a stop.

"I'd...feel more comfortable if you walked me home. Too."

Your innards ache at the stiffness in both your voice and figure, but Izuku doesn't seem to notice. Instead, he beams, standing ten feet taller, and you think—yeah. You'd feel much safer if he did.

"O-Okay! Cool!" He confirms a bit stiff himself, and then, in a smoother motion, holds his hand out to take. "Shall we?"

Your red palm claps over his, and you snort quietly, "We shall."

You two walk in a surprisingly comfortable silence for the beginning of the walk—you lead the way and he silently trails behind, glaring daggers at any passerby with lingering eyes as you march on, unknowing.

"So um, do you come to Club 777 often?"

Which is a question you know he knows the answer to, completely aware you almost come every Saturday. But you smile at his attempt to start a conversation anyways, hands tucking underneath your armpits in search of warmth.

"Yeah, sometimes. Just trying to get out and stuff. Y'know, away from the kid."

"I get that," he nods with a smile, before tugging at the hem of his hoodie. "Oh! Are you cold? Here—wait, let me."

He shucks it over your head and your positive it messes up your hair. But you find that you don't care much, especially in favor of the warmth that it provides.

And then, "You have a kid?"

"Yep," you say, tucking your fists into the jacket pockets. "A big two-year-old potato waits for me back home."

"Oh," Izuku chortles at your description before tucking his hands into his jean pockets too. Licking his lips, his eyes dart to the street, "I...assume your boyfriend watches him for the night? Or husband or whoever."

"Uhm, not quite," you chuckle towards your feet, though it's a touch acrid. Izuku picks up on it immediately.

"Oh I'm so sorr—I didn't kno—"

"It's fine, Izuku really—"

"I—but I shouldn't even be assuming what if you had a wife or girlfriend or—" he takes a second to gasp, and your eyes widen in fear that he'll choke, "—or if they're nonbinary or—"

"Izuku," you knock him on the shoulder and he finally shuts up. "It's fine. I get it all the time."

He falters, but at least he seems to relax. "Really?"

"Yes," you giggle behind a hand, and the greenette smiles at it.

"O-Okay, cool."

Flecks of gold swim in Izuku's green irises and you find yourself noticing them now, suppressing the urge to advance closer for a better look. You stare long enough to watch his smile relax into a comfortable line, but you snap out of it once he kicks a rock, the sound of the gravel skittering across the floor tugging you out of your reverie.

"I'm not very good with kids, y'know," he says as an afterthought. You snort.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I mean," he scratches the back of his neck sheepishly. "Like what am I supposed to feed it? French fries?"

"Toddlers aren't it's, Izu." You can't tell if he flushes from the nickname or from what you said, but either way, it's enough to prompt another laugh. "And maybe start with baby food?"

"Ah," Izuku nods, and you guide him in turning a corner. "That would make sense.

"It would."

By the time you stop in front of your red front door, it's almost three am. You figure you caught Izuku right after he got off work, if the cheesy All Might sweatshirt you're wearing is any evidence of that, but either way, he looks like he's about to fall flat on his face.

"You can stay for the night, if you want," you offer, albeit meekly, and Izuku lifts two hands with insistence.

"Oh! No no no please, I'm fine," he shakes his head so quickly his curls bounce in a flurry, and you genuinely worry he's going to pass out when he tries to blink himself awake. "Just...not used to staying up this late is all."

"Then stay," you offer with a shrug, and your orange porch light flickers. "It's the least I can do. I've got a bed and a futon, and I'm fine with sleeping on either."

"I..." Izuku's green eyes flicker towards your door before back to you, "I really shouldn't. I'm a stranger an—"

"And I'm offering."

Izuku's eyebrows fold with the dilemma, but you grab his hand with a tug and a smile, while your free one shoves the keys into the door. "C'mon. Let's get you some rest, yeah?"

You can't tell if Izuku blushes or if it's just the lighting, but either way, his chest inflates in protest before deflating in resignation.

"Okay."

With a smile, you turn the doorknob. Your door has always taken some shoulder to get open, so you don't hesitate in shoving your collarbone into the hardwood. Izuku cringes at the sight.

"Mama!"

Your hit in the legs first, nearly stumbling back with a quiet oof. You look down to see Max wrapped around your legs like you're a fucking jungle gym, grinning with two missing teeth and a bandaid over his nose.

It's three am.

"I'm done," your babysitter grunts. "He doesn't listen when I tell him to bathe, eat, anything—I fucking quit."

And with that, they slam the door behind them, house rattling under the pressure. You sigh. There goes another one. Fuck.

"Well that wasn't very nice," Izuku grumbles under his breath disapprovingly. You smile at the arms crossed over his chest until Max peeks around your legs to see...

"A new daddy?"

"I—no, baby," you fight the embarrassment (and the urge to say you fucking wish) by picking the little one up by his armpits, smiling when he thrusts his hands in the air and goes weee! After he's comfortably cradled in your arms, you say, "He's just staying the night."

"Like daddy did!" Max defends with a giggle before rushing the greenette with open arms. Izuku just looks at you with a shrug before kneeling to take a hug to the chest as Max chants, "New daddy! New daddy!"

And, well. There's no stopping him now.

You peel your heels off your cramping feet and sigh at the fucking freedom, toes uncurling from the scrunched position it feels like they've been holding the entire night. You curse under your breath when you realize since Max is awake you've got to put him to bed too, and honestly, if you knew this babysitter was going to be just as useless as the others, you would've just let Max run fucking free while you lived life for a few hours. Not like that outcome would be any better.

"Alright Maxie, c'mon."

You take him away from his celebration with the greenette and though he pouts, he allows his mother to gather him in her arms.

"Do you um, need help?"

You turn to see Izuku awkwardly shifting in the doorway from the request, hands behind his back with pursed lips. You shake your head.

"Oh no, it's fine. I just have to put him down really quickly and then I'll be—"

"Mama, I'm hungry. I want chicken nuggies." Max loops his arms around your neck and tugs so hard you worry about your bones. You shake your head with a sigh and a pout.

"It's too late for you to be up, bud. You can have chicken nuggies for lunch tomorrow. Sound like a plan?"

But goodness. In this state, it'll take hours for him to relax—and you still have to unfold the futon for Izuku.

Max whines and kicks his legs but doesn't say no, meaning he's not really that hungry, he just wants to stay awake. "But—but what if new daddy's gone in the morning like the last one?"

Fuck.

"Max," you sigh, giving him a light shake so his matching eyes look into you yours. You speak a little softer, "Izuku's not your new daddy, okay? He's a houseguest."

Max's face drops. "Not eve—"

"No, Maxie," you sigh, squeezing him on the shoulder. "Now let's go to bed, okay?"

"I can—I can put him down if you'd like! So you can get into something more comfortable and stuff. I mean, I've never worn a dress but sweats are so much better, you know? Or shorts, or...whatever you wear to sleep."

You understand the many points he's trying to get across, one being that's he's not a creep, just a nice guy, and you suppose you and Max can live in your "new daddy" fantasy for a little longer. Even if you know this one will be gone by morning.

"Um, okay yeah," you say, voice a little thin, before handing your child over to the greenette—who bounces into his arms excitedly. "I'll be back, then? His room is down the hall to the right. The one with the race car bed."

Izuku's eyes narrow as he processes your directions. "Down the hall to the right—okay! I'll just go take this little guy to bed, then."

"Okay, thank you," you nearly bow, because Izuku just saved both of you so much time and he doesn't even understand how. "Oh! And good luck."

"Good...luck?"

"Yep!" You say with a wink and a pat on the back before scooping your heels and booking it back to your bedroom with a cackle. Time to get out of this dress. Fucking finally.

You realize that being alone is much more unsettling when you've had a gun held to your head today.

Every little noise just seems off, like it could belong to something more than it actually does, even the silence; you find yourself shoving your head through your t-shirt abnormally fast, eyes blinking to take a survey of the room to ensure that you're alone. You are. It's fine.

And that's what you tell yourself when you close your eyes to run a wet rag over your face, and again with the dry one. All of a sudden, you don't like the way your bathroom window faces the open backyard nor do you like how dark it is outside. You don't like how big your bed looks, and goddammit, you haven't even gotten into it yet.

Pushing all uneasy thoughts aside, you stumble out of your bedroom with a fresh face and a new outfit, stilling in Max's doorway when the greenette doesn't notice you. Resting against the frame with crossed arms, you smile.

"I do so like green eggs and ham! Thank you! Thank you, Sam-I-am. You know, when I was a kid I—oh, he's asleep."

Izuku tucks the snoring boy in his lap under the covers with a gentle grin, pulling them underneath his chin. The greenette takes a second, watches Max's chest rise and fall a few times, before ruffling the tuft of hair on his head with a snort, and walking away.

You don't even think Izuku sees you until he practically sashays out the door, winking, "Good luck, huh?"

To say you go red in the face from that is an understatement.

"How do you do this?"

"Do what?" You ask as you pulling the futon in your living room forwards. Izuku yawns before gesturing to the clock with a shake of his head.

"Take care of a kid, and work, and go to a bar every Saturday evening? It's four am, and something tells me you've been up for a while. I'm practically dead and I wake up at one pm every day!"

You chuckle at that, jumping on the bed with your hands and knees to ensure its lays flat...and ensure that it won't make an Izuku sandwich at seven in the morning. "You build up stamina after a while, I guess."

"No shit," he gestures to you as you utilize the entire length of your body to put the sheets on the mattress. He would help, but you told him no, insisting that he'd only make this take longer. "Are you sure you do—"

"Nope," you huff, clapping your hands together. "I'm done."

Izuku blinks at the made bed, to you, to the made bed again, and then back to you with wide eyes.

"Mommy magic."

"I—" you blink towards the ceiling to see if that even makes sense, but you figure fuck it, it's four am, with a snort. "Yeah, sure. Whatever you want to call it."

In reality, you feel like you're about to pass out.

"Um, so I don't really have pj pants and I don't think you'll have any that'll fit, so..."

"Yeah no, I definitely burned all the shit my ex left—"

"Aha okay, cool, um, so just boxers...are fine...?"

He looks down at his black jeans and back to you, raising an eyebrow. You toss a nonchalant shrug in return, and you hate to say it, but your inner school girl goes—dick outline.

"O-Okay, then," Izuku says, and you watch his hands curl around the waistband. "I'm just gonna—"

He shucks his pants so hard they hit the floor, and your eyes widen because...well...looks like he's just gonna do it then.

Until Izuku's hands rush to cover his crotch (which you weren't peeking at, you weren't) and you realize that maybe you should've stepped out of the room or something.

"U-Um—that was fast—"

"I thought—thought you were going to uhm, turn around," he flushes, a funny contrast to the way his muscles fold under that black shirt, and your feet move to turn around like he ordered you to do it.

"Sorry! So sorry," you try to apologize, but now his dick print is burned in your brain, and...it isn't that bad.

"It—It's fine! I'm in the bed now so, you can turn around."

You laugh awkwardly and scuffle to turn, as you do, and Izuku beams at you from the bed with a wave.

"Hi," he says, his lower half-tucked under the covers. You wave back.

"Hi."

Izuku's eyes dart to you living room tv before the come back to you. "So uhm, I guess this is goodnight?"

"Oh right," you perk up at that, hands rubbing the sides of your thighs like there's something on them. "Time to go to bed, right?"

"Uh, yeah!" He nods, chest shuddering before he says, "so uh, sweet dreams?"

You smile tight at the kind gesture, and your hands opt to pull at the hem of your shirt instead, eyes drifting to an old pile of records you haven't regarded in months. "Thanks! You...too?"

Izuku smiles, though his eyes drift, "Yeah..."

You beam back. You figure you should probably go now, or something, until you think of something and slam a fist into your palm. "Oh! Also, I meant to thank you for saving me. I'm not sure if I did that. Did I do that?"

The greenette shrugs, "Uh, I think so?"

"Okay! Okay. Cool," you nod, flashing a tight smile. "Mmk. Night Izuku."

"G'night."

And see, you would move—except it seems as if your feet are glued to the floor and won't move no matter how hard you try, to the point where it feels like your straining and they're going numb, and yet you're still staring at Izuku's pretty fucking face.

"C'mon," he chuckles, scooting over on the futon to make extra space for you. "If you take all day, the beds gonna get cold, and then I'm going to have to crawl into yours like a creep."

"Oh my fucking god," you snort one breath and move to flick off the lights before stumbling through the darkness for the futon. "You're so weird."

"Weird in a good way, I hope," he lifts the blanket and you slide under—and swear your knee grazes his before it's snatched away.

"There's no weird in a bad way," you say once you've settled comfortably, tucking your hands under your head as you lay on your stomach. Izuku mimics your position, though he takes up much more of the blanket, and you find that it drapes over you like a tent over his shoulders. Neither of you close your eyes, for some reason.

"Hi," Izuku whispers.

"Hi," you smile back.

"Okay," he huffs, face twisting in determination, "Now it's goodnight."

"Right," you nod, but your eyes don't close. "Goodnight. Of course."

"Don't let the bedbugs bite," he says with a chuckle, and you can't tell if his eyes flicker to your lips or if you imagine it. Either way, you look them just in case.

"I better not have bedbugs," you snort. "I clean this place like a motherfucker."

Izuku's nose twitches at that with a nod. Moonlight pours into your living room and colors his pale skin silver, though you figure it won't take the sun much longer to color it a strawberry pink. "You really do. It's...different when it's quiet."

"Yeah," you agree, placing your hands on his chest. It shudders under your palms. "Kinda personal, huh?"

"Mhm," he nods, and though his hands wrap around your wrists, they never pull them away. You lift an eyebrow.

"A bad personal?"

Izuku doesn't hesitate, breath nearly ghosting your lips as he says, "Hardly."

"Would you..." now it's your chests turn to shudder, and sliding a hand up to play with his ear, you bite the bullet. "Like to get more personal?"

Izuku's lips melt into a grin against yours, "I'd love to."

His lips are softer than you thought.

Maybe because you assumed all of him was a bumbling mess, including his chapstick application; but they're fucking pillow-soft, and you don't realize how deprived you are until his hold around your body turns from protective to sensual and you melt from his heat.

"Fuck," Izuku huffs between kisses, growling when your grip around his neck tightens. "Watching you from across the club for weeks can do a thing to a guy's patience, you know."

"Oh?" You snort as he presses enthusiastic open-mouthed kisses down the column of your neck, hot and wet, and painful once his teeth dig into your collarbone. "A-Ah, Izuku—no marks."

"O-Oh! Sorry," he pulls away, lips red and swollen, and shiny with spit. You smile at the reaction.

"'S okay, Baby," you giggle at the speed to which his muscles go lax, and his eyes droop to your chest when you scratch the back of his head.

"Can I—can I suck your tits?"

He asks so bashfully it's nearly innocent, and you find your eyes dropping to your chest along with his before you're ditching his All Might sweatshirt all together.

"God," Izuku's eyes flutter as he gathers your breasts in both palms, groaning at the sight. "They're fucking perfect."

You shudder as his thumb ghosts a nipple, and Izuku dips an experimental hand under your lacy bra and pinches. Hard.

Your thighs jolt and hands fist the sheets, and a moan comes from the back of your throat before you can stop it. Izuku's hand rocket to cover your mouth.

"Shh—you don't wanna wake him up, do you?"

You shake your head, but it's hard to keep quiet when your nipples are as sensitive as they are. Izuku doesn't seem like he really means that statement, though, lowering his head with a devilish grin as if he knows that for himself.

“Sensitive, Mommy?”

“O-Oh um,” you flush at the nickname, and even more so when his lips close around your nipple and suck. Tangling a hand in his hair, you sigh, “Yeah, a little.”

Izuku hums at that, eyes fluttering to watch you bite your bottom lip in a poor attempt to muffle a moan, hissing as his teeth dig into the hardened bud. He pulls off with a slurp and moves to the other, but not without a few kisses across your chest.

“When’s the last time someone touched you like this, hmm?” Izuku nearly growls out before biting into the opposite nipple, and you shudder as he dips a scarred hand down the waistband of your shorts and panties. He chuckles after sliding a finger through your slit. “So wet for me.”

“It—It’s been a second,” you sigh, grip tightening around his shoulders as he slides a finger in. Even Izuku has to bite a lip at your tightness in anticipation, mouth descending over your nipple once more to send frissons of fire up your spine.

“No shit,” he grunts around your nipple, curling his finger. You gasp. “Think I can fit another one in there?”

“Why don’t you try?” You giggle, but it dissipates into nothing but air as he does, his two fingers filling you up enough to elicit a sigh.

“How’s that?” He breathes, face hovering over yours. As your hands coil around his neck, his free one reaches for your inner thigh and pulls it back far enough to give him a better angle as he presses you into the mattress.

“Good, it’s good,” you nod, and your hips start to move on their own, bucking forwards as if there’s any more finger left for you to fuck. (Spoiler: there’s not.)

“Good,” he breathes, eyes going glossy as he watches you writhe under him. You're positive that you're carving painful red lines into his back, but considering the way his eyebrows fold every time you do, makes you wonder if he doesn't mind. "Fuck I can't wait to fuck you—I can fuck you, right?"

"No Izuku, I'm just letting you finger me for fu-u—fuck."

He slides in a third finger and for some reason, it burns a little—but the burn only makes your eyes roll further, and he's stuffing you with a chuckle.

"What was that?"

"I-I—you're not pla—playing very fair," you huff, chest shuddering as he tilts your hips higher for a better angle. You suppress a scream when his fingers curl, jolting forwards at such a speed it makes the futon creak. Izuku tightens his grip around your waist to keep you from going too far.

"No one said anything about being fair, Mommy," he teases, and you whine when he removes his fingers, tapping them against your lips. "C'mon, you gotta get 'em wet so I can fuck you, right?"

You nod at the idea, enjoying the idea of being filled up much more, and coat his fingers to the point where they're dripping when he pulls him out. Izuku's chest rumbles.

"So good for me," he purrs, using your spit to coat his cock before he's sliding his head between your folds—you shiver, grabbing onto his back again. "Ready?"

“Mhm,” you nod, spreading your legs further—though you swear they do that on their own.

“Oh my, you’re um...tight...”

You whimper from the stretch and look between your legs, eyes widening upon seeing that Izuku’s much bigger than you had anticipated. Or had been warned of.

“F-Fuck, I can’t—“

“Shhhh, it’s okay, just a little more, okay?” Izuku nearly whispers into your lips as his hands move to rub your shuddering sides. Your eyes screw shut, “Jus’ a little more, Mommy...”

Izuku pushes deeper and you’re being split in half—because what else could that burn be—but you’ll admit, the feeling of accomplishment you receive once he bottoms out is surreal.

“Good—Good girl,” Izuku’s nearly quivering and plants his hands on both sides of your head with a huff.

“I-Izu,” you whimper as he starts to move, feeling impossibly full no matter how far he pulls out. Izuku shudders, mouth rounding into an ‘o’ when his hips slowly start to gain rhythm, and though it’s loud, you know the creak of the futon is unavoidable. You squeal as his head hammers into your cervix, pulling out a wanton Daddy before you have half a mind to shut the fuck up. You nearly freeze, and yet, all Izuku’s hips do is speed up.

“Yeah? Want me to be your new Daddy?” He moans, and you dig your nails into his back with a nod. The greenette curses at that, biting his bottom lip and his hand drops between your legs to rub at your clit. With thighs seizing around his waist, you slam a hand over your mouth to keep yourself quiet.

“Fuck—I make you feel that good, Mommy?” Izuku nearly wheezes, eyes suppressing the urge to screw closed, “So good you can’t keep your pretty mouth shut?”

“Y-Yeah, I—“ you gasp when he lifts your hips off the bed for a better angle, hands fisting the sheets. “Harder, Daddy—“

“Oh Mommy, if I go any harder I think I might break this bed,” he says, borderline bashful, but you find yourself saying fuck the bed as your hips buck in search of a feeling he refuses to give you. Izuku’s chuckle strains as he says, “So needy, Mommy. You that needy for my cum?”

Clawing at his back, you try your damnest to stutter out a yes. Izuku chuckles at your desperation before he cuts himself off with a groan, eyes rocketing to where you’re both connected as you tighten around him.

“F-Fill me up, I wanna—“

“You want another baby, Mommy?” Izuku pants, and you’re so close you start to feel a buzz in your thighs, praying he isn’t too far behind. You nod vehemently with a gasp and his lips slide into an exhausted smile, "Fuck, of course you do—and you’re gonna take me so well, aren’t you? All of it.”

Izuku finishes his sentence with a growl, pressing you further into the mattress—it squeaks like a squeaky wheel, and when it thunks a level lower both of you yelp, the back of the futon thumping on your hardwood floor with each thrust.

“Told ya,” Izuku wheezes, eyes scrunching in a chuckle. You return it.

“It—It’s old anyway,” you reply, but your eyebrows fold as quickly as they unfold from the crash. The creaking futon increases in pitch as his hips pick up the pace, “Fuck—fuck Izuku I’m gonna cum.”

“What’s my name?” The greenette challenges, and you find yourself shivering at the dominance he exudes. The finger on your clit disappears and you whine, knowing damn well you can’t cum without it.

“Daddy—Daddy please—“

“Good—fuck, so good for me,” his hand returns to your clit and you sigh at the feeling. As the coil in your gut threatens to snap, his hips speed up, and Izuku pants, “We’re gonna cum together, yeah? Cum with me Mommy, c’mon—“

“Fuck!” You drag red lines down Izuku’s back as you quake under the weight of your orgasm, broken bed whining as Izuku thrusts all his weight into you. Digging his teeth into your shoulder, the greenette cums with a broken moan, hips stuttering into yours for the final time that night.

The room fills with a comfortable silence, minus the panting, and Izuku rolls onto the mattress next to you with a bounce. It creaks, whines, and then drops again, catching both you and the greenette by surprise. (Again.)

“I think—I think we broke it,” Izuku says towards the ceiling as he catches his breath. You giggle at that, hands laid across your sweaty stomach, and turn to him with your head in the pillow.

“Gives me an excuse to buy a new one,” you say with a shrug. Izuku chuckles back.

“I guess,” he teeters his head to both sides. “I can...also pitch in, if you want. Since I broke the thing. Technically.”

His offer sounds apprehensive as if he’s encroaching in your space, as if he hasn’t been all up in your space less than a minute ago. You smile. “I’d like that a lot, actually. Thanks.”

"And um, breakfast? I mean," he snorts, though it seems rather defensive, and his eyes rocket to the ticking clock on your wall. Your eyes follow: five am. "I mean—fuck um, I feel like this might be weird but I think you're cool? Um, yeah, so breakfast, I can make it if you want because you're so busy being motherly and stuff and plus, it's Sunday but again, if you don't wan—"

"Izuku," you giggle, wrapping your arms around his gut with a little squeeze. "Breakfast sounds nice."

The greenette beams and his chest stutters. "O-Okay cool! Cool, cool. Breakfast then?"

You snort, driving your palm into his face to shut him the fuck up. "Goodnight, Izuku."

Izuku giggles, getting the message, and coils his arms around your shoulders to provide a comfort you haven't felt in a very, very long time.

"G'night Mommy."

[aquagustd]

Hey, I have a scenario in mind but instead of an incubus!jk how about succubus!y/n? WDYT? Sounds interesting to me😌

* Like she appearing in his dreams looking all hot and sexy, making him needy.

* Him waking up with a boner/wet pants(?) Idrk..

* Asks her to touch him, which she does but no sex until he gets really crazy, irritated?

* Wishes he could meet her..

* BEGS her to fuck (ride) him.. that's when she shows up

* Him being scared, ofc everything's jst new

* They fck..

And OML! You write about snakes too? ugh WAAAW🥵

The content you have IS what I've been looking for, ISTG!!🥺🙌🏻

freeze - JJK | M

pairing: jungkook x succubus!reader

genre: smut

word count: 1.6K

warnings/tags: strong language, sub!JK, succubus!reader, explicit smut- grinding, hickeys, brief handjob, oral (m), finger sucking, masturbation, edging, overstimulation, unprotected sex, riding

∞

Jungkook’s eyes fly open, a cold breeze making him shudder as he walks into the darkness, a small hallway comes into view. Curious, he takes a step into the orange glow, slipping down and falling to his knees, he curses, clutching his wrist as he stares down at the carpet burn. Suddenly, a wave of heat shrouds his crouched figure.

When he lifts his head, a blinding glow makes him hold his arm over his eyes, squinting into the bright light. He stands up, still shielding his eyes as he walks further down the hallway. A voice from his left calls out to him, he turns into the room when suddenly, the bright light is gone, a four-poster bed comes into view, black wood with plain white sheets. He lies down on his back, when the heat returns. He sits up on his elbows, seeing a woman dressed in all black stand at the door, back turned to him.

She walks backward, black dress flowing with her movements, silky hair reflecting the light as it sways with her hips. His eyes rake down her figure, she spins around, sitting down next to him.

“Hi Jungkook.”

He licks his lips, breath hitching when he catches sight of her pretty features.

“Hi.”

“I’m Y/N.”

His eyes dart from one end of the room to the next, it seems so plain but so complex at the same time. You laugh, flicking your hair over your shoulder.

“Curious little thing.”

The tone of your voice makes his skin break out in goosebumps, his tongue runs over his bottom lip, falling back down on the bed with you, admiring your features while you do the same. His eyes flicker to your cleavage, feeling incredibly hot, he opens the top buttons of his pyjama shirt, seeing your eyes follow the movement. He smirks, scooting closer to you. You shuffle closer to him too, and the slit in your dress exposes your fleshy thighs to him, he salivates, hand going down to touch the skin. In an instant, he’s pressed flat against the bed as you hover over him, the strands of your hair falling in front of your face, his eyes widen, wondering how you could be on top of him without touching him. He wants to touch you, so he reaches up, but you’re sitting at the edge of the bed again, combing your hair over your shoulder, back on display for his hungry gaze.

“You want me.”

He nods, throat going dry. And with a resounding laugh, you’re gone.

He wakes up in a sweat, pants feeling sticky, cock pulsating in the material. That was some fucked up dream. Waddling over to the bathroom, he takes a shower and goes about his day, but the image of Y/N’s face keeps popping into his mind, distracting him from his work. And when you appear in his dreams again, he wants to know who you are and why he wants you more than anything else.

“Why won’t you let me touch you?”

“Silly boy,” you watch him on the bed, letting the black coat you’re wearing fall to the floor, exposing more skin to him. And then you’re on top of him, hands placed on his shoulders, silk dress hiking up your thighs. He blinks up you, puckering his lips when you lean down, but you go for his jaw, suckling on the skin, moving up to his ear, he groans when your tongue traces the shell of his ear, dipping into it. His hands grip your ass, lifting the material up to feel your skin. No panties.

He’s glad he decided to sleep shirtless today, your nails rake down his chest, catching on his nipples as your tongue darts out to lick at his Adam’s apple. His cock strains painfully in his pants, rubbing against your thigh. You move down, placing your core over his length, his eyes flutter shut, rolling his hips with yours, pressing against you.

You twist his nipple and he jolts, eyes cracking open to see you kneeling between his legs, fingers ghosting over his clothed cock. He whimpers, trying to get some friction.

“Naughty boy.”

You pull his cock out of pants, then return to your previous position, hand hovering over his cock as he jerks his hips wildly, tip a bright red as it touches your palm. He throws his head back, so consumed by lust, twisting the sheets when he feels his high approaching, you’re giving him so little but he knows how good it’ll feel when he finally reaches the edge.

But he doesn’t, because he’s awoken to his chilly room. Cursing, he shoves his hand down his pants and wraps his fingers around his cock, fucking into his fist with vigorous moments, but it’s all for nothing because the feeling ebbs away. Just like you each and every night. You continue to torture him, with your tongue on his cock, laying flat against the tip. Gripping the base as your tongue flicks over his frenulum, then taking him all the way to the back of your throat, so tight, so close, only for you to pull away, ripping him of his release.

Then holding him down while you rub your slick pussy all over his abs, smearing your juices everywhere. He can’t take anymore when you spread your dripping folds and show him how wet you are.

“Fuck me. Please. You’re all I think about. I can’t fuck anyone else. I can’t cum anymore. Please.”

He sounds pathetic, he knows, he doesn’t beg, women beg for him. Yet here he is, whimpering and sweaty under you, chasing your lips as you pull away, hypnotizing gaze boring into his soul. You tongue traces the seam of his lips, pinning his wrists to the soft sheets.

“You sure that’s what you want?”

His hips lift up off the bed, “yes yes please,” he groans, cock throbbing, desire clouding his mind.

“I want you.”

You grin surreptitiously, moving away from him and standing at the foot of the bed.

He rises from the bed with a shuddering breath, the same bitter feeling coursing through his body. He huffs, washing his face and then returns to bed. A shadow in the corner of his room startles him, but when the moonlight strikes your face, he stands up from the bed, walking toward you tentatively.

“You’re here?”

“Yes, darling.”

With each step that you take forward, he takes a step back, the backs of his knees hit the edge of his bed and he falls into the sheets. You straddle him, hot body pressed to his. He swallows, thinking that you were some twisted nightmare but at the same time, a dream come true. Especially when your lips brush his, pussy rubbing against his hardening cock.

“You wanted me. And that’s what you’ll get. Or are you afraid?”

He shakes his head frantically, calloused fingers digging into your thighs.

“I’m not,” his cock twitches when you pull off your dress, lacy black bra on.

You take his hands and guide them behind your body, he unhooks the clasp expertly, eyes not leaving yours. Your boobs bounce against your chest, throwing your head back in a way that Jungkook thinks is purely erotic when his lips close around your nipple. He tugs the pebbled bud between his teeth, and you moan, rocking your pussy against his cock. You help him out of his pants and push him back on the bed, much like the position you were in for the past few nights.

“Please. Don’t leave,” he find himself saying, fingers combing through your hair.

You press your index finger to his lips, he greedily takes it into his mouth, saliva spreading all over your digits when you add your middle finger. You pull them out and let them drag down his chin, wetting the skin between his collarbones, eyes tracking the movement.

“Since you asked so nicely.”

Fingers curling around his cock, you position your hips, drenched pussy meeting his flushed cock, tapping your clit with the head.

“Fuck,” his glossy lips hang open, watching the way his cock disappears inside your hole. Eyes rolling to the back of his head when your ridged walls glide over his length. You intertwine your fingers, rolling your hips forward, walls closing around him.

“Fuck, so tight,” he bucks his hips, cock surrounded by your hot walls, getting harder with each thrust, with each loud squelch of his cock being buried in your pussy.

You mouth at his neck and he cries out when your teeth pierce into the soft skin below his ear, tongue flicking out, repeating the action on the other side, rolling your hips forward, boobs rubbing against his nipples.

“Fuck yes yes. So good. Ah.”

Your walls squeeze around him, dragging him closer to his high. His eyes scrunch shut, he can almost taste the bliss of his sweet release, desperately chasing the euphoria. Your quivering walls close around him, and with a strangled cry he cums, working his hips into you, hearing you moan out his name as you cum, milking his cock with each clench of your pussy.

He whines when it becomes too much, when your hips still work against his, jumping up and down on his cock, pulling his bottom lip between your teeth.

“Fuck fuck,” he grits his teeth, the feeling bordering on painful with how hard he came a moment ago.

He feels your walls squeeze around him again, cumming for a second time, slick dripping all over his sheets and thighs.

With a sigh, his softening cock falls out of your pussy. You kiss his chest, laying your head in the crook of his neck.

Jungkook wraps his arms around your body, sleep taking over him, laughing breathlessly after he finally got the release he needed after what felt like months.

“Don’t worry,” you grin up at him, nails digging into his pecs, “I’ll never leave.”

-

⤺Shorts Masterlist | ⤺Main Masterlist

[muffindaddystyles]

DENTIST THE BAD BOI (PART2)

Word Count: 17k.

A/N: Heavily inspired from 90's rom-coms, so if your heart swoons out of loneliness it's not on me sistas -- doctor Harry my fav.

Summary: Y/N's much tolerable when less grumpy then more kissable, more loveable and cuddleable and Harry wants to be more than just fuck buddies that he ends up giving Y/N a tooth ache.

Pairing: Dentist Harry × Artist reader, Frenemies to bestfriends to lovers, platonic affection and loads of bestie fluff, smut and domestic love.

MASTERLIST | REQUEST FOR BLURBS FROM THIS FIC ARE OPEN | PART 1

“Yes. I want you to stay.” She doesn’t hesitate this time. Her words honest and full of plead, she needs him, she wants him, she wants to have him.

Harry’s lips quirks up into a loopish smile at that and he hoists his knee up and above, sinking his palms into her soft mattress besides her temple and blocks the mellow sunshine that peeks through her lace curtains. Her heart squeezes out of her rib-bones and turns gooey somewhere within her insides as her lungs fill with his minty and warm ardour and if she'd be not this flushed and throbbing between her sticky thighs she'd have cracked a dentist joke.

“Y’want me to lick y'cookie f'ye?” He gives her a bunny grin and his fingertips tickles her shoulder; milky skin twinkling at him from the neckline of her shirt that’s barely sitting there and she pouts raising her hands to smack his chest, but he grabs them and tugs her forward, tutting sternly, “I want an answer.” His foresty pupils darkens around rims and her throat turns scratchy. So, she bobs her head up and down eagerly, feeling the metal around his fingers smouldering into her wrist and the thought of it on her clit makes her mewl.

It dings his adam apple sexily and his eyes turn soft and cheeks rosy, Harry doesn’t know what she likes or not so he’s gonna start tentative and careful and gradually ease her into taking big things after, letting her drip onto sheets for hours if she’d like him edging and teasing her.

She watches him with doe-innocent eyes and Harry almost ruts his hips against the mattress from the way his cock twitches weepily -- sensitive against the fabric of his joggers.

He keeps their intense eye contact while sliding back down between her legs and cares his calloused warm palms under the back of her cushiony fleshy thighs and bends her knees up, his eyes flicker towards her tummy that exposes to him when she stretches out gracefully in reaction to his tingling touch.

Making sure she’s alright, his nimble taps her ankle and when she breathes out a whiny “yes.”,

He gropes the insides of her thighs and spreads them apart and presses them down letting her make puny noises when the cool air teases her folds, she smells so good for him, “Already such a puddle, Muffy. G'na gimme a sugar rush from ye'sweetness.” He darts his pink tongue out to moisturize his petal lip and his grunt pleased and heavy upon seeing her gush more arousal just from listening him talk.

He spreads her swollen pussylips apart with his middle and pointer finger and her chin tips towards the ceiling, mouth apart around a gasp when he glints a smirk towards her all while poking his tongue out and flattening it against her clenching entrance and licks her juices up.

“Does it feel good?” He hums nonchalantly nosing at her little button and paints his lips with her wetness. She stays a bit stiff. Not making any move and staying put in her position. Harry takes her clit between his teeth when she whimpers out and her body turns taut, her hands balling at her sides.

“Y've t’use y’words with me, moppet. It works two ways, always.” His hands reaches blindly for her wrists and he puts them over his poof of hair but it remains fisted and he rubs his big hands up and down where her thighs meets her sweet cunt, “Try t’ relax. Can y'do that fo'me, pet?”

His brows pinches together into a frown. His glistening lips from her turning into a grumpy pout when she doesn’t respond — was he unable to make her feel hot and excited? she should tell him if she didn’t like it.

“Y/N ...” He raises his head slowly from between her thighs and his jaw goes slack, his eyes bursting wide seeing her holding her breath and hiding her face underneath her forearm, “Shit. Shit. Y/N!” He’s quickly crawling towards her and sliding his hand under her back, brings her to his chest with his fingers wrapped around the nook of her elbow.

“Breathe, Sweetheart. ‘s okay.” Is this what she was talking about? Is this why she has specific days for touching herself? Poor bambi. He massages her back with tender circles and sighs in relief when he feels her chest calming down back to normal.

“Y/N ...” He pushes her away from shoulders to look down at her sternly and takes her hair into his grasp and slinks them to side, “What’s happenin’ with ye'muffy?” He gives her a downturn of lips and quirk of brow indicating her that there isn’t any escape for this time.

For fuck’s sake! He’s her bestfriend. He should know atleast that she’s alright!

He gauges for her eyes when she presses her palms into his knees and lifts her bum a tad from the sheets, shy embarrassment turning the tips of her ears pink, manipulating her toffee lip in her mouth and Harry pushes back the hair that are falling in her eyes.

She’s feeling hell load giddy and humiliated to tell him this.

Harry startles back, blinking rapidly when she squeaks out in one breath, “’M scared to hurt you!” He pulls her forward with his hand wrapped around the nape of her neck and frowns.

His touch with her tender and un-conceit, when usually he’s a domineering in bed and riles them enough for them to beg and moan pathetically for him.

“What? Scared ---.. hurt?” He tries to piece what she said together but it doesn’t make any sense. So, he guesses that he'd have to pry some more from her, “What're ye' talkin' bout muffy?” He sighs noticing the way she clenches the hem of her shirt and mumbles something but Harry’s giving her a piercing glare and it makes her ramble anxiously.

His hand affixed at her skimmed from under her shirt and his thumb keeps on circling her hip-bone.

“’M afraid that I’ll get all horny ‘n loose all my senses and be all rough with you, ending up hurtin'y and I’ll be too engulfed in pleasure that you wouldn’t be able to stop me ....” She fiddles her fingers vigorously in Harry’s hand and he's cutting her with a tut, “That’s the point silly girl.” He chuckles amused at her and she shakes her head whining up at him with a surly expression. The corners of her eyes pinkish and watery from forcing herself to feel the pleasure Harry’s tongue was devoting her.

“But, Harry ‘m not some insatiable monster!!” His heart thuds at the concerned worrisome look on her angelic features and he’s cupping her cheeks, he curses out internally to whoever told her this and his lip grouches up, “You’re not some insatiable monster. Who the fuck fed you this bullshit?” He scolds her and it makes her fleet her gaze away from him.

“You’re not —-... what the fuck, Y/N. Tell me their name so I could break their jaw.” He gasps in shock and he spits in venom. Knuckling at her chin to prop it high infront of him and doesn’t break the cogent eye contact -– his eyes full of hatred and loath for the person.

That damn person who made his Bambi, so insecure and conscious and self-degrading about herself.

“The guy –,” She stutters. He gives her an encouraging hum and she plays with his rings, she knows that he’ll never make fun of her about it and mighty be understanding.

He has always been.

But sometimes he laughs at the worst moments. Not his fault. She has adopted that habit too from living with him.

Right now though. He looks very serious and furious, it creeps heat up her throat.

“The guy I lost my virginity to. He said – he ... umm said that I hurt him when I flipped him underneath me and was being selfish asking him to you know ...?” She mumbles, uncertain if she’s putting it out right and Harry runs his fingers through his curls gripping at the roots and groans in annoyance, properly vexed.

“Firstly muffy. Virginity isn’t a thing. It’s a term made by egoistic men like that prick of a guy, secondly did he make you cum?” His voice tones down gentle and caring. He lays her down and settles her head on the pillow and she's still fisting his shirt in her hands.

He grimaces when she shakes her head, her eyes owlish and glossy pointing down, “Everything was so dry that I wasn’t able to enjoy it ...” She winces remembering it and Harry cradles her face cooing delicately, “Oh Bambi. It was, ‘cos ye' weren’t aroused enough.” But, she’s now. With Harry ontop of her and being all warm and lovey and handling her as if she’s fine china, she could feel gooey wetness sticked to her thighs.

For first time in her life. She feels relaxed and light headed talking about it.

So, she continues, “ .. and it was bit disgusting, he came all over my tummy ‘cos he didn’t have a condom.” At this he grumps, his nostrils flares and pinches the bridge of his nose to keep him sane, “What a cheap bastard!” She giggles at his outrage and he just gives a fluttery smile to her shaking his curls.

He pets the sheen on her cheek away and gazes her sincerely, “You shouldn’t trust everyone and anyone, pet. ‘S a cruel world out there.” The fact that if he’d have came inside her boils Harry’s blood -- she'd have gotten the worst thing happen to her.

He just feels so protective of her. If he’d be able to keep her safe under his shield to scare away bastards like that guy he gladly will.

“Now, hear me Bambi eyed. We never have unprotected sex with strangers and never let ‘em make y’feel bad fo' wantin’ t’be pleasured .. if two people consent fo' it then both ‘ve to fulfil eachother’s desire. Am I clear?” His tone gruff and firm. She suckles her lower lip inside her mouth and nods quickly.

Something about him commanding and lecturing her making a fire fuse in the pit of her tummy and it makes her salivate down a whimper, which sure didn’t go unnoticed by Harry’s side and his lips are quirking into vivacious grin.

He’s retreating back between her legs keeping a cautious gaze on her as if she’s a prey and one move will wither her away, “’N fo’ being rough. I like it rough. Y'could d'all of that with me without being embarrassed.” His smirk dripping with wickedness and Y/N’s head jerks back at the thought of him seeing forward to do more of this with her.

His palm lays sturdy and pressed to her belly, his puckering lips against the inside of her thigh parts around a silent groan when he feels her belly quiver.

He embeds slobbery kisses to where she’s clenched impatiently for him and he pushes his fingers against her clit and slides them up and down between her puffy folds, love creating soppy filthy noises and gives a kitten lap to her then attaches his lip to her smudgy hole murmuring against her breathily to make her feel the electricity till her core.

“Will love havin' ye'tiny fingers pullin' at me hair with a swimy brain. Buckin'y hips into my mouth begging me to ruin yer cunt with my tongue and ‘ave me dancin' on y'palm, extractin’ out glutinous grunty moans within me chest -- it’ll not be just moans, no! —- a viscous toe curlin' sound that’d rumble savagely in my throat a warning fo’ you to keep these gorgeous thighs open fo' me to eat you out as I wish and my large hands will belt ‘round y'waist digging my nails into your dimples when you'll scratch my back ‘n it’ll leave angry marks behind — a reminder fo’ you how much I fuckin' loved you being horny as the deepest burnin' of hells.” She’s panting and sobbing for a cusp of breath manoeuvring her fingers in the tufts of his silky mess of curls and tugs at it and shoves her cunt, grinding against his chin. The softness of his cheeks glittering her bones and she’s falling wider apart from him, and he grins.

Noses at her throbbing clit and sucks it in her mouth and massages her pussy with her own lubrication and how much he picks it on his tongue she’s ready to give him more and he’s moaning with fierce ruby lips wrapping around her fluttering pussy folds, moving his mouth every where and it elicits a choppy whine from her.

“Fuck. Look at'y ... s'innocent but such a dirty little girl fo' me.” He dips his fingers merely into her and swipes up a cardinal push against her spongey wall and treats it back.

It’s too much for, Y/N. Everything. His wanton words better than those audios, his warm tongue on her and the strength of his arms holding her down, his flushed out cheeks and the teasing and teetering he's doing to give her an orgasm that sprays cosmic stars into her fogginess and she doesn’t even know that cloy moans of, “yes.yes.yes.” are dripping from her and he’s boring his face back into her when he latches away from her sweet pussy with the help of his elbow.

“I want you to say it.” There’s pause in the string of her racing heart and her brows hitches in confusion, though he doesn’t give her enough time and moves her pussylips apart letting his nails graze at them gently.

She’s squealing in surprise and jolting up with exhilarating sensation when he spits at her and watches it trickle down her bum, thick and honeyed with lust-fond eyes.

She’s erupting into startled moans when he grunts spitting again and makes her little cunt the messiest thing, “Say it. Say that yer dirty little —-,” She cuts him with a sharp and whiny yawp and plunges her nails into his shoulder making him hiss through his teeth.

“I’m a dirty little girl, f'you. Just you. Just you. Just you ....” Her voice tones down into coy whispers stuffed to the pillow as her body anchors stintingly from her bed and Harry’s hand slides from her torso down her ass and gropes at it keeping her coupled to his mouth as she coats his chin and his lips and his cheeks with her cum and his own spit and he’s murmuring grittily, “Yeah moppet. Mhmp. Come in me mouth. Fill it all, such a good girl.” He nips and tucks at her making her satiate through her high and places a kiss to her clit for the last time when she thrashes from sensitiveness before moving away.

“Sensitive lil thing ye'r.” He murmurs rubbing her thighs to coax her down and feels goosebumps prick on her skin, glances up and finds her a beautiful colour of pink and peach and her hair nested as a halo on the pillow.

She’s just so beautiful in many ways, it aches his heart.

He’s flopping to her side and poking her cheek earning a tick of ravenous smile and he watches as her irises moves under her closed lids.

“That was ... hmm.” She hums sluggishly knuckling at her eyes and Harry muses out a chuckle, before she could come up with a dentist joke he's cracking it himself sensing her gears working in that tiny head of hers, “Very filling?” That makes her hide her face into his neck and giggle.

“Yeah. Could say that.” She rests her chin on his shoulder and poses her brows questioningly when his stuffy pocket pokes at her thigh, “What’s that?” He didn’t realise he was too swamped in admiring the specks of her hazelness pouring with sunlight and he’s blinking back to re-start himself.

“Oh! This ..?” He’s taking out it slowly and she’s whining and shaking him to hurry up and he’s giggling at how impatient she could get when curious.

She holds it infront of her and it’s a cute green beanie with a little gucci embroidered at where it gets folded and her smile dejects when Harry speaks, “One of my colleagues gifted me this as a birthday present.” Why didn’t she thought about gifting him this for his birthday? Not that she has money for Gucci but they've been celebrating for three years and not once she didn’t get an idea that he wears beanies alot and mighty would like it?

Anyway, it’s far better than the painting of snowy and a mason jar filled with candy wrappers having her appreciations and dentist jokes written to their backside she gifted him, Y/N pouts thinking how she could’ve get him something useful.

Harry doesn’t care about materialistic things. He says that you could buy them anytime and that money is just the murk of your palm, it goes away in one wash -- the little shows of affection always are by your side in hard times.

“Hey Muffy...” He's yawning nudging her side noticing how she zones out and away from him, “D'ya have some chamomile tea?” Her chin slips from her shoulder at the sudden rasp.

“What? Why?” She gazes him. His body slumpy and tired over her and his mouth ajar cutely, she scratches his scalp lightly and swears that he let out the softest purr.

“Was in the operation theatre fo' hours now, just came from there -- emergency case. It was bad.” He emphasizes it getting a lisp a bit and she sits up closer to him.

“What happened to the person? She asks hoping they’re okay and have any hopes for recovery.

He just fiddles away the beanie from her grip and covers her head with it folding and adjusting it over her ears, “Not tellin' ya ...” He murmurs rubbing his nose into her arm and sniffs her saccharine scent. He knows that she doesn’t take the stories from his workplace well and it keeps her awake at nights, then she’s visiting the patient herself and Harry have to drag her out of his hospital every damn time.

She cares too much. Even for strangers. She’s too kind for her own sake and Harry thinks sometimes being selfish should be the latter option.

He squints open his one eye feeling her gaze fixated on him and huffs a lil, his little stubborn bambi, she wouldn’t let it go, “Fine. They were comin' back from a party and were high maybe -- car crashed badly dentin' towards the passenger’s side ‘n totally dislocated her jaw, now y’promise me you aren’t gettin' too worrisome ‘bout her because she’s okay.” Saying this he's cuddling back into her and she smiles a bit petting his back.

“Whatever, you say Dr. Styles.” He didn’t even need a tranquilizing tea anymore. Her warmth and squishiness was more than enough to lull him into a peaceful slumber.

..

It’s an otiose Saturday morning. Harry and Y/N just gobbled down oatmeal she made (topped with kiwis, mangoes and strawberries Harry brought from market and threw the bag in her lap) it had too much of coconut and sugar layer than necessary, according to Harry.

While she cleaned the countertops Harry fed and kissed the crowns of each one of their cat, yet again they were left with nothing to do —- that's how Y/N ended up straddling his waist, his jaw fit in her palm and his eyes half-open funnily as she applies a liner at his lid with her pink tongue poked out in concentration.

“Stop movin’,” She snits out in a huff and the skirts of his lips alleviates up into a cheeky evil grin, his hands pawing at her hips and his intentionally dirty gaze flitters down where her nipples are perking from the flimsy shirt and almost presses to his throat, “How'm supposed to when y’tits are ready to lactate me mouth?” Blush creeps up at her cheeks at his overweening and she wanted to give out an “Oh.” Instead grips his baby curls and steadies him, squishing his cheek in doing so as if he’s her toy.

“You better shut up, or ‘m gonna shove my feet up that smug mouth of yours.” She grumps to her own self when her fingers begins to twitch feeling her ear fill with hotness, “And what makes y’think ‘m not into that?” He rockets his brows priggishly with a grin that just screams he’s about to have a upper hand in this banter of their.

“Harry you disgraceful, man!” She whines trying to pull his face upright – he’s doing it on purpose trying to push her buttons and his eyes widens in feign hurt, “’M a very holy man!” His one eye adorned with charcoal coloured liner making him look adorable.

He’s far from any of that. They both know it. He’s a nerd slut if Y/N could put into words correctly.

“Yeah. Holy piece of a shit.” She grumbles pressing her bent knee into his side and quips a happy “Tada!!” grabbing the little from beside him and almost shoves it in his face demanding him to look at himself.

Harry brings his lips together and whistles looking at himself, “My murals should be painted everywhere in the city,” Y/N rolls her eyes. Nibbling down a scoff at his narcissism desperate to jump out and points at herself with a shrug of shoulders -- silently trying to telepath with him.

“What?” He murmurs nonchalantly angling his face to have a better look at him.

“Where’s the praise for artist?”

“Why need't when y'know ‘m an art myself.” His rims shine shamelessly and he nips the flesh of his cheek to stifle down a bashful cackle at her retort.

“You’re being too bold for a person who combusts in his pants just by getting his back scratched.” She arches her brow pruriently at him and he shakes his head, brushing the belly of his nose with his knuckle and when he gazes back at her -- she knows that she’s fucked fucked.

“Says who. The dirty little girl who's sitting on her bestfriend’s cock in her panties and shirt that’s doin’ nothin' but makin'y nipples button out shamelessly.” He tuts carnally, sinking into the plush cushions and man-spreads himself so wide Y/N could feel him pressing between her folds. His smirk rottenly sinful and evil and Y/N's palm automatically jams against his torso with a weepy mewl forehead falling against his clavicles.

She wanted to argue that he’s clad in boxers too but all of her sanity went out of the window when he teasingly grinded their crotches together.

“Y'want t'be treated like a bunny, who loves to hop on dick and fucked till you’re just a soft mush -- don't ya?” His hoarse drawl makes her bob her head eagerly making him chuckle and she’s tightening her thick thighs around his waist, hiding her face into the dive of his nice warm smelling neck and keeps her lips sponged to his skin making him grip on her hips with brutal force.

She’s just so sweet to Harry. A hot pink puddle at his mere touch and all clingy to him, shrinking into him with shyness and all of this just stirs his cock angrily sensitive.

He’s always getting a stiffy thinking about her and her honeyed taste he got to lap on and he's always smelling one of his pillows that has her fragrance loaded on it, while cupping his balls and stroking his cock lazily and hard, with other.

Though his assertive words wavers into a whimperish groan when Y/N takes her face out and gazes him with doe-warm eyes, “I w'na make you feel good.” Harry throbs under her and fattens against his own belly and feels her soaking against his boxers.

“Y'do? ‘s okay —.” His chest heaves with ragged breathes from anticipation and yearn and he knows that taking care of himself would be a torture if she’d tell him a, “no.” But then he isn’t that of a prick and is awfully happy to get what he’s getting, their infinite proximity.

His head teeters back and his pelvis buckles up when she clutched the hem of his sweatshirt and uttered a poutsih, “please..” She’s nourishing a breath and gazing up at him with glossy chocolate eyes blabbering while swivelling herself slowly ontop of him, “You’re looking s' pretty and cato eyes -—.. and you’re stuffed against me s'good. I want –- I want to make y'feel amazing.” Harry’s choking a growlish moan and the urge to just throw her on couch and snug his large cock deep within her.

Her brows pinches together and she has him grabbed from shoulders while she looks between them, listening to his purry hisses and lewd moans, it makes her redden her lip –- she could see his bulbous sherbet coloured tip coated in his own arousal wrestling out of his boxers as the fabric bunches and loosens down with each stroke of her cunt against him.

“Y'want to make me feel, amazin'? Fuck. You’re devastatin' me love -- yeah, mhmph hump me prick moppet.” Her eyelids lust filled and she moans against his chin as he breathes out a euphoric smile and Y/N gains a new confidence pushing herself down on his cock harder and firmer and faster.

The fabric of his boxers tickling his wet slit and he’s smushing his cheek into her soft chest, hugging and murmuring nonsense against her when Y/N sneaks her hand down and fills her hands with his heavy cum loaded balls and Harry doesn’t know how she was able to press him under the pad of her pinky in a span of minute.

Because he’s begging all for her mercy.

He howls a whine when she sucks his earlobe wetly and grazes it to speak in the sweetest yet licentious seductiveness and Harry’s almost naked under her, “Jeez. Hmm. Yes, just like that –- Bambi. My Bambi. Makes me feel — oh fuck!” His knuckles white from where he's groping the cheek of her ass and guiding her where her mound nudges him more good and drafts him straight to heaven.

“Tell me, huh. Who’s the dirty one now?” She smirks squeezing his balls yanking the sweaty ringlets on the base of his neck and they’ve their bodies on eachother, their hands on eachother and Y/N had an audacity to compete.

He’s trashing his spine into a curve and pulling her back down on his dick. She squeals when his cock grazes her pantie line and slips up and down against her cushiony thigh slobbering it with his pre-come.

“Me, me! Fuck .. pet, ‘s me ...” His hand tightens around her ribs and his hand tightens around her ribs and he’s dragging her back and forth -- socked toes curling and teeth gnawing at the pudding of her cheek. His thighs quaking and his strong forearms brings her closer to his chest, as the pressure coils in his stomach and the gentle caress and guttural bite on the slop of his collarbone was enough to burst spurts of cum in his boxers and it quenches onto his tummy and to the inside of her thighs making a sloppy mess.

“Shit.” He mutters through a chuckle. His chin butted atop her head and she giggles moving away.

Her shirt ridden up, her panties bunched up into her ass-cheeks and Harry admires her with a celestial flush on his skin and she circles her fingers together.

She just rode his prick dry and looks like she did the most innocent thing in the world.

“’M g'na go clean myself.” Harry smiles at her squealing pitch and then realization dawns upon him, she’s talking about his jizz on her tickling her skin getting flustered and knackered feeling it. Though, it’s not only his jizz but her panties are drenched into her own salvation making it see through and her wet pussy on display.

He just gulps and nod, like an atta puppy.

..

Lavish green leaves rustles together, the soil of green-belt moist and watered recently, early morning sky swirls of blues and it’s beautiful it really is the weather isn’t too sunny – the silence in his car is comforting too and the rum of his breath makes her feel nostalgic.

But, she wanted to sleep her arse off on Sunday and do nothing and be proud of being idle whole day. Harry had different plans though –- he was jumping on her bed making her wobble on it in her sleepy state and dragged her to washroom how much she whined and fought with him.

“Oh. C’mon now, muffin .. it’ll be fun, Ni would be there too.” He tries to reason her and she just brings her knees up into her and closes her eyes, muttering in monotone.

“Nothing’s fun about golfing, Harry.” It’s little get together of his colleagues and the doctors from his hospital and Harry thought he'd die from boredom if he wouldn’t bring her with him, he isn’t one bit of interested into old men talking about how their third wife drools over them – he isn’t very fond of lies.

“Not even me? How could y’say no to me?” He gasps dramatically. Scrunched his nose and twitches his lips in fake offend.

She opens her eyes for a moment and stares at him, “Just like that,” Pinches his elbow and shrugs nonchalantly.

“Harry, no.”

“Yeah, Whatever.” He rolls his lips between his fingers and takes a turn and when they reach he's putting sunglasses on the bridge of her nose, unfolding her arms that are wrapped around herself and nudges her to be less grumpy.

“’Ve a reputation yeah .. be less frumpy.” She pokes her tongue out and Harry lurches his hand forward scaring her that he'd grab it.

“Those dilfs already kisses the tips of my shoes.” She hops out of the car and clasps her hands atop of her head stretches out and yawns out loudly.

Harry’s head perks up alarmingly at that from the boot of his car and he swings the golfing kit on his shoulder and rolls his eyes from under his sunnies, pushing her forward with a small hand on her back.

“Yeah, more like grandpas.” The thought just makes him feel icky and utterly gross – imagining those old doctors —- no he completely wants to brain wash himself.

“Bet, their willies would need heavy assistance —-,” He’s grinning abrasively down at her and she winced swatting his chest, “Harry!” She’s wiggling out of his hold and striding towards where Niall is waving them in utter excitement.

Harry pouts and stomps behind her, calling out for her to slow down and scowls when a grin makes a way at her face as Niall hugs her.

Niall showed her his little nips and tricks. While Harry looked at them with needy eyes from far stuck between the bunch of boring doctors and dentists and his lips visibly downturns when Niall trips and Y/N’s falling on her bum, clutching onto her side with a belly aching laugh.

Ni helps her stand back and it was when a women in pink sports short and Nike tee trudged towards them and Harry at the same moment and Y/N just stares with confusion as they hug and she’s smiling up at him brightly.

“Sorry. I lost the time check.” Harry’s parting away with a shrug, “Not tha' somethin’ special occurred.” and Y/N’s doe-curious eyes remains fixed on them and he's introducing the unknown women to her and Niall’s poking her side to revive her back to mighty world.

“Muffy? She’s one of my colleagues, Holly.” Y/N startled a bit then gives out a nervous smile forwarding her hand to shake it with her and Holly’s pony flails comically from the action.

Soon, she’s turning her attention back towards Harry and smiling up at him questioningly, “Did you rest well after leaving the hospital on Friday?” Y/N just fumbles with Harry’s rings on her knuckles -- not sure if she should go back to golfing with Niall or stay to take part in little conversation because Niall is growing very antsy.

“Yeah. I did, actually .... very well if y'ask so,” Harry's shimmering gaze lurks back on Y/N and she internally groans when he smirks remembering the event and she wants to glare him from the side of her eye.

She’s stepping aside quickly when Holly passes by them and towards the table full of breakfast and beverages.

She pours two cups of coffee and adds two teaspoon of sugar, handing one to Harry and Y/N wants to retort that he doesn’t like coffee and hell not that amount of sugar.

“And Y/N what would y'like coffee, tea?” Holly asks her and Y/N just chuckles gingerly when Harry looks ike he's about to gag when he takes the first sip.

“I don’t drink coffee.” Holly looks like she just saw the end of the world and Y/N holds back from rolling her eyes at her, she's giving her an aura that she doesn’t like Y/N even a bit.

“No? Why?”

“Guess I never needed that much caffeine, my job doesn’t require staying up late and all that ...” Holly sips on her coffee and leans against a chair raising a her brow at her and then asks.

Her style being uptight and arrogant just not sitting right with, Y/N.

“What is your profession?” This ferals Y/N into her thinking pot, is that even a profession? She doesn’t really know and she’s in her own headspace when Harry’s soft eyes worms back to his bambi and his eyes glints with ever proud and his smile toothy and bunny as he puts the cup aside speaking with a hint of fond.

“She’s an artist. A very talented one.” Holly arches her brow at him and hums then looks back at her -- as if she didn’t heard him right.

“So, you make art for living?”

“I do it beacuse I like doing it, just like you.” Y/N chips up and Harry just thinks his admiration grows terribly more every day for her -- because of the passion about anything she holds in that big heart of hers, the way her cheeks rubies up and brows sets into concentration.

That shuts Holly and her train of personal irritating questions.

“Hey! We aren’t here fo' some princess tea party -- can we please, go back to golfing!?” Niall finally bursts like a balloon from annoyance and Y/N's giggling and hooking her arm into his elbow, “You’re sucha cry baby.” She coos and tries to walk him back to pitch but then her gait stutters when Holly asks Harry in an expectant tone.

“Did you like my present?” Why does it layers her chest with mucky awful feeling, her stomach itself tottering and she just huffs thinking how that present sits in her drawer and she’s the one that wears it instead of Harry.

“Oh, I liked it, thank you.” Fucking liar. Y/N just shakes her head and chuckles ironically because he forgot about it the moment he gave it to her.

Y/N’s toes itches with an impulse to expose Harry infront of her.

Where’s that feisty Harry ready to bite anyone expect her and his little group of friends? What did this job do to him? Oh my goodness! Why Y/N is hating all of this so much, why why why!?

Y/N's completely being an over dramatic (she knows that) but she couldn’t help but be bitter about this Holly “oh I could woo Harry just by giving him some beanies from an overly expensive brand.” Gahk! Not in a millennia.

“’Kay, pet now you make yer goal.” Niall shouts squinting to get rid of sunlight in his eyes and Y/N was so engulfed in thinking of how the slight interest and undivided attention of Harry towards Holly makes her feel woozy and something that’s indescribable, until now. That’s when someone came behind her bended figure she – almost making her squeal but he’s shushing her sweetly -- the corner of his lips pressing to the side of her hairline and he takes in her fresh lilies scent.

Two soft beautiful boned structure hands comes raking from her shoulders down her wrists, jostling her almost as he wraps his hands around her sweaty ones and brings the golf club back in air.

“Let's fill those holes together,” His smooth rasp prickles the hair on her body in a most stinging way and she's subsiding down a blush, frowning and unfrowning to concentrate back on playing -- but it’s a fucking torture when his bulging member prominent from his tight little shorts lines up against her bum teasingly.

He was very aware of the big problem that stood between them and she’s turning with his arms still on either side of her -- doing a little knocking on his chest to gain his attention.

“You’ve —-... umm ..” She stammers. Cheeks peachy and her smile nervous. Harry hums in dither gazing down at her softly and that flusters her to living heavens.

Then his eyes follows where she’s staring in curiosity and gentleness and as if she’s ready to take him in her mouth right then and there.

He’s got a stiffy and that in public!

“Oh shit. Sorry, I wasn’t awa —-,” He's creating a little distance between them but she’s quick to grab the hem of his shirt and pulling him closer back to her, “No. No. ‘s okay. I could ‐—.. I could help you ....,” She mutters in a tizz with a hitchy breath and Harry’s dimples indents, cushy smile dancing on his lips and his pinky’s swiping the loose tresses behind her ear.

“If you want to...” She doesn’t know what’s making her more anxious the fact he'll brush her off or that he'll accept her help, but this latter option fills her insides with gales of mushiness and it makes her unsettle her footing.

“I’d love that.” He grins and she’s smiling up at him and Harry screams internally like a teenager at how she manages to be so tender and silken like a gorgeous doll in the most filthiest situations.

He keeps her infront of him to hide the potential tent in his shorts that appeared from no-where, he's being sly and clearly knows that where it came from --- from gawking her peach ass till it wasn’t printed in his mind and he didn’t even know when he was drooling at the thought of squishing her asscheeks and rolling his thumb against her puckering hole and imagining her cute lil whines for him to bore down his thumb into her till she feels his lion ring against her flesh, throwing her hips at him more —- shut up!

Though when the group of men stops them with their evil gazes on his little bambi and they’re smirking up at Harry in mischievousness, “Where you sneakin' Y/N too?” They hollered and Harry had to ball his hand on her hips and bite back from rolling his eyes sharply and rudely,

Because who the fuck they’re to ask? He could take her anywhere and why they do act like they fucking know Y/N from summat eternity, that makes him want to snap at these snobs and warn them not to ever take a step near her.

Ofcourse, he’s very well aware that their intentions towards his sweet bestfriend are evil and filthy -- he wants to punch each one of them at that.

“Just to show ‘er the lake behind,” He's giving them a tight lipped smile and leaving them baffled without giving them more to talk and Y/N giggles at his huffy-ness and pets his knuckles feeling his skin beginning to fume and turn hot against her neck.

Moments later, he's sitting on the bench of empty steam room carmine lips parted and plush are mooched to Y/N's upper belly, his long arms tipsy around her thighs and hair floppy caramel and his palm splays on the side of her waist under her shirt coveting his nails lightly into her pudgy skin – as her soft hand stays dipped into his shorts and she strokes him in gradual pace.

He’s jerking back hitting his head against the vertical mirror that covers the whole wall when she presses her thumb into his palpating tip of cock to coax out his white stickiness and uses it to coat and lube his dick and caress it, “’S’okay c’mere, honey. You’re okay.” She coos cupping the nape of his neck and brings him back to let him bury his face into her pulpy body and kisses his hair, sliding her hand under his jaw to soothe him.

Harry moans uncontrollably and tries to muffle them with choked sobs upon hearing her go all soft on him and he thinks, “honey” Is his new favourite word from now on coming from her mouth and he wants to be called honey from her all the time.

She doesn’t know where the confidence of sweet talking to him came from but the menace for Holly and her being overly sugary with him, just poked her in weird place and she wants to claim where he belongs.

To her.

Always her.

“Bet, your big cock was all achy and weepy for my attention.” She pouts slopping all the way down to his chubby shaft and tightens her grip jerking him speedily. Harry bobs his head vigorously and eagerly hugging her ever close and babbles wetly so she scratches his scalp and almost raises her hips into him when his happy and satisfied mewls fuses into her ears.

“Been —-.. been, fuck!” He gasps bolting shut his eyes when she widened her slick palm down and massaged his heavy taut balls – shaking them playfully with a giggle bitten down her throat, “Been thinkin' ‘bout you whole lot – yer such a doll.” He sighs and she sponges a peck to the side of his forehead.

“Yeah?” Her eyes glints with adore and meekness for him and when he nods with euphoric slipped eyes and rosy cheeks snuggling himself into her she mighty cried a lil.

“G’na cum for me? In my hand? Been treating you so good, honey. Love your cock –- always oozy and slick for me and your moans —- can y'moan fo' me? Show them on whose pinky you’re wrapped on.” She’s breathless but the tenderness and fondness in her voice never fades and Harry’s almost tomato grinding his hips on the bench fucking himself into her palm and brags his teeth together hissing through it.

“G'na cum. G’na cum fo'y and —- oh!” Guttural heavy loud moans are eliciting down his tongue and he’s groaning and whimpering and thrashing under Y/N shooting his gloopy spunk inside her palm and she doesn’t stop, coating his whole eternity with his own cum and digs out some more droplets from his tummy to soak into the pride that she’s the reason he’s this fucked up and ravenous and shaking under her.

She’s throwing her legs on either side of his thighs next and he’s gazing at her intensely from under his thick lashes with lovingness all slumped against the mirror and she’s ducking down to stitch her nose up against his nose and giving him an eskimo kiss and Harry’s lips accommodating back for a nice breather are tingling to lean in and place them on hers in a dotting heart swarming kiss but a knock's interrupting them and she’s quipping back a squeal and jumping on her toes.

Guess she'd just clean her fingers by licking them since there’s no water.

..

Y/N was painting one of her commission works and for her coming exhibition when Truggers came meowing at her and scraping onto floor, “What d'you want bub?” She asks wiping her fingers on the rag and puts the brush into water cup.

She follows Truggers to their bassinet and almost slips straining her ankle from rushing panicked towards Tum who's jerking in his sleeping position.

She hawks in shock, fear and trembling horror. Her ears deafening. She’s shouting at him and shaking him with tears in her eyes, “Tums? Tummies? Baby!! Wake up!” She cries but the cat doesn’t respond.

“No. No. No!!” She shakes her head sobbing loudly bringing her knees up to her chest and holds her head in her hand not knowing what to do, she calls Rori and she doesn’t even know how much time passed and Rori's hugging her and comforting her taking other kittens to room so they don’t see Tums.

“Call Harry! Call him, please, please, please .... Rori ....” She sobs feeble and painful into Rori's neck and she shushes Y/N. She really tries to but she knows that only Harry could manage to calm her down and she rings him many many times but he doesn’t pick up.

“Harry! I’ve been calling you for ages for fuck’s sake where are you?” So, when he's excusing himself telling that he was having lunch and Holly’s voice is booming through Rori's phone Y/N’s heart drops and shatters into gazillion pieces.

She may not be in right mind, but she’s seriously hurt because Harry never in million years ignore her calls.

Guess having lunch was far important than her or her calls.

It just makes her cry more.

“Wait. What’s happening?” Goosebumps layers on his skin when he hears Y/N crying and he walks away without telling Holly he’s heading out.

“Harry ... Tums, he died in his sleep.” Harry halts in his tracks. Staring at the parking sign blankly and his eyes fills with tears and his breath shudders as he tries to speak, “’M coming.”

..

Rori left and took Tums with her after tucking Y/N in bed and making sure she’s okay.

Her ears perks up when the door clicks softly accompanied by low sniffles and it pools more moisture in her eyes and the tears trick down her chin and onto pillow — because hearing him cry is just so agonising.

“Muffy ...” The mattress dips behind her and he’s scooching close to her planting his cheek against her shoulder.

His warmth melts her but she recoups wiping her eyes dry and wavers in a thorny voice, “Go away.” She distances herself from him and turns stiff.

“Moppet, please ...” He protests and she hampers herself from snapping at him.

“Go away, Harry. Leave!!” She's muffling her cries into pillow and when she faces him – Harry's chin wobbles because his muffy looks terrible and awfully sad and it’s breaking him weakly and perfectly.

“Why don’t y'go back to whatever you were doing with Holly!” She gasps moistly for a breather and Harry stands up, nose red and runny and eyes bloodshot.

“Jus’ say yer’ jealous.” He wants to be fierce with her about what she said but his voice barely comes out without being shaky and his heart is full of sorrow.

“And if I say I’m, then what?” She’s pathetically hiccupping (continuously) so much her neck hurts and she has never sound so uncertain and pleading and expectant to know if he might love her?

That if there’s something more between them than just providing eachother pleasure and being eachother’s missing half when they were lonely.

More, than just two bestfriends being eachother’s back of the hand.

He doesn’t respond and she shouts for him to stop and answer her and throws a cushion towards him, but he just leaves her to it.

Harry’s just worried she isn’t ready to take either of his confessions well.

..

Snowy sits in her lap. Max and Luna (Rori's girlfriend) are wrestling onto the mattress they took from Harry's bed and laid on the floor, (which he'd grump about when he'll be too pissy to move it back in the late night).

He’s been cranky and acting proper ratty with anyone and everyone he comes to interact with since that day.

He felt like his world turned upside down because now everything’s just against him, his milk gets soggy every morning and all of his socks and hoodies are at his little thief's home and snowy takes revenge from him for hurting Y/N by pissing on his shoes everytime he’s about to leave.

Cherry on creamy top!

He just couldn’t stop thinking about his bambi and might have chewed his fourty years old assistant ears with his rambling of Y/N and his endearment for her and unfortunately he just ficked up bad.

“’M so hungry. If Ni will cheat another round on me, I’ll be munching on his toes!!” Y/N exclaims huffing out and kicking Niall in shin as they were playing Mario cart and he’s been winning for an hour just by his cheating tricks.

They all got together after many days at Harry’s flat while he was at the duty and he promised them that he’d bring pizzas with him and now it’s almost 12 and they’re waiting and waiting in anticipation for him to arrive.

When the door knob jiggles everyone’s jumping up and scrambling closer to the door because they all are that hungry and Harry’s hands are piled with pizza boxes, soon their hungry excited expressions are dulling into annoyance and viscid displeasure when Holly peeks from behind Harry.

Still all of them manage to plant fake smiles and everyone’s greeting her.

“What took you guys s'long?” Y/N speaks lowly through a forced smile the one that doesn’t reaches her eyes and doesn’t make them appear as they are pools of earthly soil, “Oh .. we just stopped to buy some muffins -- Harry told me how much you like them, Bambi.” Oh fuck. There goes the pressure cooker blasting and rattling through each and every wall of this room and the tension thickens around and Luna's coughing and everyone is just treading back to their spots awkwardly and with disappointed sorry sighs for Holly because if before Y/N didn’t hold a grudge against Holly now she’d.

Because, for fuck’s sake!!! Nobody, calls her that except Harry!

It was their own intimate little sweet love name that Harry calls her and her only.

Not even their friends.

Not even Niall.

Just him.

Him.

Him.

And.

Him.

Now, she just came from out of the fucking blue and popped their bubble of intimacy and Y/N feels like one of those anime characters where they've a frown hanging on their head larger than their size and there’s fire enveloping them before she bursts out in rage and scream at Holly and Harry too.

She sighs. She’s far better than creating a scene and gladly accepts the box of muffins from Holly whose smile is overly sugar coated and this is what Harry says when he tells her he doesn’t like sugar in much amount – it’s irksome, Y/N’s talking about humans specifically.

“’s not even my favourites.” She mumbles staring at the vanilla strawberry muffins and Holly just shrugs and Harry gets tensed keeping his voice hushed while Rori and Him unboxes the pizzas in the kitchen, “Just thought a change would be good.” Y/N’s throat clogs up just at that. She finds it hard to even gulp down the piercing emotions piling up there.

Y/N just hates changes.

Holly wants to change everything about Harry and his surroundings, even this dinky flat he lives in —- he’s a dentist why’d he live here?

Holly tries not to grimace.

“You know Y/N hates changes, Harry I know that you guys might not be serious but we all are well aware that you too —-- fuck, Harry! Why are you fucking it up!” Rori whisper yells at him as they throw the empty boxes frantically and hurriedly to go back to living room and handle the situation before it gets out of hand.

“Ontop of that. Why did ya bring, Holly with you!? She isn’t ... well she isn’t much par to any of our likings.” Harry just runs his hands through his curls and he knows that it’s afflicting Y/N, his baby muffy who wouldn’t even see him in eye since that incident and he really wishes that all of this ends soon.

“What d'I do!? she’s my staff head and I’ve to play nice to her.” He squeaks out in a bit panic and he’s exhausted and tired and really running out of his Bambi's cuddles but she wouldn’t even let him set foot in her flat.

Even though how much he argued that, “Remember y’said this’s our one big home? Well I could be in me home whenever I want.”

Though when they're out with bright smiles and announcing that food is here, acting as if him and Rori didn’t just had an ASMR argument in kitchen.

Harry’s heart. The each chamber of his heart got cut up into pieces and fell somewhere in his stomach when he hands the plate to Y/N and she takes it without meeting his eyes, starving him off her sweet butterflies wooshing smile and tries to avoid from getting any physical contact between their fingertips and cuddles back into Ni's side as if she’s utterly cold.

She’s jealous and hurt and furious that Harry has mighty revealed their intimate nitty gritty details to Holly.

All of that aside. She’s very sad and lost and feels lonely all over again because she has no-idea that what are they, where they stand out of their bestfriends bubble and if whatever happened between them was fever dream?

“What happened, pet? Not hungry? Y'were ‘bout to munch us alive seconds ago.” Niall chuckles gingerly and nudges her as she just hovered her pizza on her plate and never brought it to her mouth.

Harry wipes his hand on his jeans listening that and Holly’s side eyeing him gauging for his reaction and her face hitches up into displeasure when he stands up and strides towards Y/N in two long steps.

“D'ya want another flavour? Is it cold? We could order somethin' else if you want to ....” His voice caring and antsy and he’s contemplating whether to sit beside her and coax her to eat but she’s chewing onto it and shrugging, speaking with a mouth full and yet again never sparing him a single glance.

“No, ‘m good.”

Holly judges Y/N’s battiness and locks up the urge to roll her eyes at this girl who Harry’s so whipped for -- she could ramp him under her feet (which Y/N would never – Holly’s just a mean ass who likes to think negatively about everyone) and he'd still beg her to do it all over again.

Holly just loves to be a victim in situations where she doesn’t even have a role, but still tries to fit in as a victim.

The truth is. She wants Harry bad. And, it’s all written clear on her face.

Their hang out didn’t take the route they planned for it to be and Y/N was heading out early conscious of Harry’s gaze on her all the time when Rori yelled enthusiastically with a bright proud grin, “Everyone's invited to Y/N's painting exhibition on Sunday, aren’t we Y/N!?”

Harry’s head snaps towards each of his friends like a lost puppy and when all of them are smiling and nodding their heads in agreement his eyes just brawls out and he feels like crying and throwing a tantrum because she didn’t tell him about it! and even if not, he didn’t got a chance to be the first one to tell her how proud he’s of her.

Rori winces when Harry rushes behind Y/N and the door's shutting behind leaving them in awkward silence again.

“You didn’t care t’tell me? ‘s such a big mo' fo'y.” He scowls. Folding his arms infront of his chest and Y/N grumbles stomping her feet onto floor.

“You were too busy —-..”

He knows what’s about to come next. The taunt and fight and something heartbreaking that’d slip from their tongues and hurt them brutally and part them away, “Baby.” He’s sighing rubbing the knot on his forehead and him calling her baby was enough to mush her into a candy floss.

“Yell at me. Punch me. Brake me nose. D'ye thing but pleaseee don’t gimme a silent treatment ...,” His eyes glossy and Y/N kinda feels remorseful and she might not give into him that easily but she isn’t to be blamed because she’s just so putty in his embrace and he could win her heart all over again as many times he wishes.

Though when she’s speaking to him after long period of four days and nine hours and cursing him out he’s still very thankful and gleeful grinning and scooping her up in his arms, “You’re a downright asshole you know that? One of our baby cat died and you were too busy havin' lunch with that, witch.” She isn’t hiding her hatred for Holly anymore and Harry cackles infuriatingly loud and brushes his cheek against her neck.

“’M sorry. Not g'na do tha' evea' again swear on me life.” He mumbles coherently.

“Promise?”

“Promise.” He’s hooking their pinkies together and kissing them to seal the affirmation.

..

Harry loves BDSM. Something he explored upon lurking around a sex club when he was right about to turn eighteen, of which oh so Y/N's savvy about from all those nights where she could be able to hear guys and girls howling like they got fucking murdered even sitting in the farthest cubby of her own home.

She'd not argue to him about that because of her shyness and second the music that she used to blast through speakers while painting, so they were equal.

He was quite peculiarly never interested in having romantic relationships with people -- he was just interested in what’s between their legs and sometimes their mouth.

But with Y/N. With Y/N he wants to make love to her. Lit sweet warm scenting candles that’d sheen their skins with ardour and have vases filled with flowers and cook her a dish she likes – then they share a glass of wine (optional) if they want to remember it all.

He wants to have every nice and warm thing with her, things he never got to experience.

He wants to love.

To love her.

He never really exposed himself to words like amity, adoration and intimacy. Thinks that those words are too big for his heart which’s too compact for someone to build a home in.

He hated certain stuff. On purpose. Like scrabble when his father and his friends made fun of him for liking scrabble and he kicked that shit so hard it tensiled into space — or he thinks so because he never saw it laying on his childhood floor ever after that.

Then again, Y/N came into his life and brought his scrabble back (teased him that she stole it from some kid that lives downfloor) they play whenever they could and ends up fighting everytime because, zzz isn’t a word but Harry claims it is for people who snores like they're gonna choke into their pillow next moment.

He hated interacting with people. Don’t even have an idea how he got these bunch of maniacs as his friends and then Y/N, he just thinks she’s made specially for him only carved from the cream of tenderness, beauty of love and sent upon to him like an Angel.

Harry hates sugar. But, yet again he likes no scratch that -- he loves Y/N so it doesn’t even matter.

At the moment when he’s crowded by gushing and whispering and laughing people. Praising and chatting and loving on his Bambi —- he feels like the word hate never existed in his life because all he could feel his heart is floating in copious amount of love for his Bambi as he stands in the corner letting his eyes admire her in affection.

He takes a sip of white wine from his glass and hisses when plays with his earlobe out of instinct and ends up prodding himself from where he pierced his ear two hours ago.

A smile so tiny but full of elation and lilac-ness twirls on his relaxed face upon reminiscing it – his eyes falling at her trousers and he gives himself an imaginary pat on back.

“You’re gonna repay me by ironing my trousers.” She told him standing between his parted legs and he scooted closer to the edge of counter and grabbed her teeny hands compared to his's and puts them over his thick thighs, “Whateva' y'say ma'am. ‘course now ye’re ‘bout to become a sexy artist with her own gallery ‘n all tha’.” He smirked and she rolled her eyes dabbing the cotton ball with alcohol and swapped his soft earlobe with it.

“’S not mine.” She murmurs and Harry woven his fingers with her's and tugged her forward. Lips brushing her temple and he shrugged, speaking, there’s nothing for her to be insecure about, if no one's proud of her, he is, he always gonna be, “Does it matter? Those paintings are yours. That room will be filled with your talent – ye're g'na own one soon, mark me words.” His grip tightened when she rubs her hand at his chest to warn him beforehand and he feigned that he’s scared and horrified to make her anxious about it.

“You’re sick in head you know that?” She mumbles grounding down the shakiness of her wrist as she poked the needle through his earlobe and his voice just did a lil loopy-loop as he spoke, “Yeah ... many patients tell me when I don’t give ‘em enough anaesthetic and rip their teeth out.” She blinked up at him with wide eyes and smacked him when he just slumped down against the mirror if nothing happened, his rims floaty and blown out.

Sometimes he jokes too seriously it startles, Y/N.

“You could say an ouch, atleast. Big man.” She giggled taking the needle out and puts a black cross earning after cleaning his brand new piercing, “Ouchhh!” He moaned out dramatically, fingers gliding down his skin under his eyes to reveal pink flesh and blue veins and his eyeballs.

“You’re an ass! Now go iron my trousers D’ya want me to go bottomless?” She chortled out loudly and her laugh boomed through the small washroom when Harry’s hand spanked her bum playfully, “Perhaps tha’ is what I’d never want in any case – even if I’ve to showcase me bum to everyone.”

“Harry?” She’s gazing up at him with deer eyes and tugging at his blazer to gain his attention, “Everyone’s gone?” He looks behind to get the sight of their friends laughing and chatting.

“Yeah.” Harry’s heart tweaks upon hearing her exhausted and sluggishly soft voice. She giggles into his cheek when he slings his arm around her shoulder and runs his nose up and down her head walking towards their equally tipsy friends.

“Everyone lets bunch up to give, Muffy a cuddle.” Harry drawls out. His warm breath tickling her neck and everyone just roars out gathering around them and giving them a big bear hug and Y/N's eyes turns glossier because she’s feel so loved and cared.

Just because of Harry.

When they see off their friends, Y/N isn’t rushing back to her agency’s manager to ask how much paintings she sold instead she’s snuggling into Harry’s embrace and let’s him escort them out and into the cool wind.

“You really deserve chocolate muffins, don’t ya, pet?” His chin doubles as he tries to take a look at her satisfied and relaxed face as they trod on the side of road like two penguins providing heat to eachother.

They’ve drunk quite a nice amount of bevvies. Enough that mighty would make them forget the events that are happening now and that’s nice because they could be embarrassing and cringey with having to think about it later.

“No.” Harry grabs her hand that was about to push the door of the lil bakery and she’a huffing up at him and swatting his hand away with a loud thwack, “’M an independent woman, H.” He just slides her hand away -- retorting with a smile, “And’m a gentleman.”

She squints up at him with scrunched up pouty lips and he’s mimicking her squinting her square in the eye. The clock ticks by and they break into a hand wrestling and he’s squeaking out childishly when she pinches his wrist but he’s coming back with scissor fingers demanding her to do a “stone, papers, scissors.” Fight with him.

When he’s wiggling his fingers in fire gesture she’s groaning out and throwing her arms in air, “Fire beats everything!!” He yells duckishly and spins around doing a little dance.

“Fine.” She grumps folding her arms around her torso and he’s ducking down to smooch annoying kisses to her cheeks and all over face.

Harry’s forearms remains roped around her waist and his chin rests ontop of her head, her back stays pressed to his taught warm chest whole time. Every two minutes or so she raises the muffin she’s eating to his lips and he’s taking a chunky bite out of it as they trod their way back home.

“Dun, dun dun dunnnn, do do ...” She giggles when he sways them. His chest rumbling with his deep drunk octave and she cups his cheek.

“What you singing, honey?” He just giggles clinging to her and hides his face into her neck – murmurs then takes himself out of her fragrance and shouts into the air.

“The pink panther’s song!!” She woofs out a laugh at that and he shoves his face into his palm, wheezing out cutely, “I'know y'laughin' ‘cos ‘m sayin' stupidddd things.....,”

The bunny vociferous laughs that emits from their bellies, tumbles them to the ground and the moment they look towards eachother they burst into more giggles.

Y/N scrambles towards where he’s clutching his side and rolls to face her and she crawls up his chest.

It feels good to waste time on the footpath when their hold on eachother’s this soft, warm and meaningful and full of love.

Their cheeks coral, their grins achy and their eyes gleamy ---- hands wandering and comforting eachother, cuddly and sottish and cosy laying right outside their the homes building.

He hugs her closer to him. She snuggles herself into him and worms into a touch starved shrimp and the words are on the tip of his tongue, they’ve been shown in his sentiments with zeal and passion in past and now they’re bouncing in his chest.

Though, he gulps them back.

He really couldn’t.

“I love you,” It flows away in the wind but she catches onto it and flies with it and pushes herself up on his chest blinking in perplexed rapture.

He’s breathing it out again. This time maybe slurry from inebriation but clear and audible, “oh my god baby .... I love you s'fuckin’ much.” He cradles her face in his palms and slides his forehead against hers.

“You love me?” She whispers and he giggles at her bewildered expression and bobs his head, “That’s what ‘m sayin' pet.”

She knows that she loves him too. More than anybody. Every inch of her body soaks into the word love for him.

She pauses for a moment, “How — but, I mean –- What did I do?” He just shrugs, “Dunno.” His dimples foaming deep and pretty.

“I just think we would be a good us,” At that her head perks up kitten like and she moulds her palms around his either side of neck as if he’s her warm chocolate cuppa, she smiles slowly, “We'd be a wonderful us.” Her gaze glitters on his wine moisturized pink lips and she gives him an eskimo kiss.

“Gimme a kiss then,” She demands pursuing her lips adorably but he shakes his puff of curls and pushes her face back gently, “No!” Her brows pinches together at that and she pokes his dimple pouting sadly.

“But, why?”

“I don’t wanna forget our first kiss.” He whines and paws at her hips to bring her back closer to him and she giggles muttering a silly under her breath and tries to tempt him.

“Kiss me, in this way ... we could have our firsts twice!” He gives into her mischievous offer and sighs cradling her face in his hold and murmurs against the corners of her lips, “Only ‘cos you’re cute and wouldn’t stop peskin'.” She’s grinning and pulling him with her hands and smashing her petal lips against his's, their eyelids springs close and he’s squishing her chasing to deepen the kiss and when she's parting away he’s rushing to peck her lips right back to kiss her more.

“I could really cry just by kissin' you, moppet.” He licks the spots of chocolate from her chubby bottom lip and bites it and she’s melting her mouth again over him, kissing him delicately and sweetly having a certain desire and yearn to just star into one soul that balms there tummies.

“W’na kiss you forever.”

Harry never believed into forevers.

Then Y/N wrapped him in her oh so Y/N-ish blanket and now he wants everything with her for, forever.

“Oh. Hush baby. You’re gonna gimme a tooth ache.”

..

Y/N regrets saying that. Because she’s waking up with a headache, blurry vision and churning stomach ontop of every pain the ache in her tooth came to bite her in ass and she’s hissing grabbing her cheek to soothe it down.

“Fuck my —- damn hell ...” She mutters when even the slightest of air in her mouth stings her tooth like a bitch and it dollops tears on the corners of her eyes because she has never gone through a toothache before.

She’s bargaining in Harry’s flat and into his room and he’s properly wafted, face smashed into his elbow as he wheezes through his parted mouth. She’s shaking him gently because the shrivelling drive of pain is growing after every second.

“Harry!” He’s jolting up and snapping his head in every direction instantly his sleepy gaze melts on her (a sight he'd like to have every morning) but she looks rather rotten with a nest on her head and her last night’s clothes crumbled and when she's quipping an, “It hurts Harry ....” With teary eyes, He’s immediately scurrying closer to her and holding her -- confused at first.

“What's hurtin', pet?” He mumbles groggily and she sniffs, “My tooth –- fuck.”

He sighs knuckling at his eyes and kisses her hair throwing the duvet away, “Sit here yeah? ‘m g'na wash me hands real quick and check it, hmm?” He wipes the corner of her eyes and massages her shoulder -- then unfists her hands to make her release some tension and puts them on her knees.

He’s muttering a, “Good girl.” When she nods obediently and watches his back as he trudges inside the washroom.

Coming back with towel in his hands and throws it on the bed while sitting on his knees and adjusts her between them.

“Can y'open a bit mo' f'me, darling?” He asks gently caressing her hip to loosen her up. He already knows what's about to come next and he’s afraid she’s going to be very batty about the procedure, “Aaaaa.” She practically makes the noise trying to part her jaw as far as she could while Harry’s hand remains intact around it inspecting her mouth and she’s anxious that she has a morning breath but the memories of all those time she would practically drool on his cheeks while sleeping makes her feel less awful about it,

He chuckles tapping lightly on her upper moral, “Ow!” She swats his hand away when his action physically makes her whole body go through a pang.

When she looks up at him with ticked brows and huffy pout biting the flesh of her cheek between her two morals to just do something -- anything to get rid of the pain, Harry rubs the frown away with a grimace and brings her for a hug.

“’M s' sorry baby. But, looks like it’ll need a root canal.” If his bambi wouldn’t be in such pain he indeed would have lectured her and thrown away every sweetened thing in her jars out of the window.

“Can y'endure a lil pain and wait till my last appointment? So, I could take care of you afterwards.” He asks her lovingly and his reasoning makes butterflies erupt in Y/N’s belly and she almost almost forgot about her toothache but then it pangs again and she’s hugging him tighter mumbling into him, “Sure.”

He’s making her change her clothes and made her porridge letting it cool down to a temperature where it wouldn’t stick or ache her teeth.

“Y/N ...” He glowers at her sternly when she pushes his hand away holding the painkillers and that intense ferocious glare where his soft jade eyes are turning into something very dark is enough to tell her that if she’s not taking them, there's a big scold coming and after that no leniency for an argument so she takes it without throwing another tantrum.

After making sure she’s fed well and tucked into bed he’s stroking her hair and massaging her head, adjusting her pillow as she likes, kissing the tip of her nose as he murmurs.

“Rori will be pickin’ y’up sharp at 5. Told her to wake you up gently if you’ll be sleepin’.” Her eyes are dreamily glassy and she smiles lightly and she’s already missing his touch on her skin when he stands back up ready to leave.

She really wanted to say it.

Dying to say it, infact.

But all that came from her mouth was, “I’m gonna miss you.” Earning a giggle from him in return.

“G’na miss you terribly too.”

..

Rori drove Y/N to hospital. She’s still in Harry’s clothes that he made her wear in the morning, a black galaxy sweater and wide loose pants a beanie on her head to protect her from a headache and when the receptionist waves her enthusiastically upon her arrival Y/N’s smiling but never opening her mouth knowing the bitch would be back.

“Dr. Styles went for a staff on-call. He'll be here any moment, you could go inside.” Y/N’s nodding and padding inside his room. The pain has lessened a bit and that gives her teensy energy to wander around his room admiring his lil achievements, the medal he won last year and right beside it the pen holder she gave him it that has a “HORRAY TAKE BABY STEPS BABY STEPS HONEY!!” written obnoxiously on it as if she’s screaming it to his face and she giggles at her own silly gift.

She gasps and ends up knocking her hip into his desk as Harry steps in and laughs loudly at her, tutting with a shake of his head, “Jumpy little thing you’re.” Out of habit his hands are falling at her hips and bringing her closer.

“How’re y'muffy?” He asks and she’s bobbing her head up and down dramatically but silently making him chuckle.

“’Kay get yourself comfy on the seat ‘m gonna call my assistant t’give you anesthetic.” He suppresses a smile when she worms her bum up the slippery seat and goes on pushing different buttons moving it up and down.

“How adventurous.” He snickers switching the examination lamp and she rolls her eyes. His assistant’s eyeing them with happy eyes from under her glasses and Harry’s putting his latex gloves aside as she fills the injection and Y/N's muscles tenses up in anticipation, as she tries to blink the fear away and musters up a weak smile.

Knowing she has a fear of needles. Harry rolls the stool he’s sitting on closer to her and interlaces their fingers together, he coos sweetly, “It’ll be just a pinch baby.” Though, Y/N thinks Harry’s a motherfucking liar because it apparently is not just a pinch but feels like a stick shoved up your ass.

When the assistant leaves them to fetch something, Harry’s stroking the fringes of her hair behind with benevolent and caring eyes and smiles down at her sincerely.

“I want y'to relax, moppet. Yeah? Could y'do tha' f'me?” This time when he’s poking or prodding she isn't slapping him away and he’s grateful because that means her gums are numb properly.

He’s caressing her arm to assure her that she has nothing to be afraid about when she startles hearing the buzz of instrument that’s about to rip her poor gum apart.

Surprisingly she was easy. Because, Harry was so gentle with her and when he’s ushering her to spit in the little sink and she’s laying back with cloudy eyes and a grin Harry just knows the anaesthesia is kicking in.

It means that she’s allowed to blabber every dumb thing to him (she doesn’t need anaesthesia for it by the way), without any filter and timidness she’s about to chatter his brain alive.

Her gaze slowly rakes down his torso as if she’s undressing him with her eyes and she’s grinning -- more blood pooling in her mouth, “You look very handsome in scrubs — you know that?” Her words wobblish but full of naughtiness and Harry arranges them himself barking out a delighted laugh when she tugs at hem of his clothes perking her lips.

“I could really kiss you right now....” Her voice clear with desire but a hint of neediness and fondness for him and he’s gazing her down with gleamy endearment and snorts bringing the water cup to her lips, “Sorry Bambi but don’t like kissing a bloody mouth.” She keeps her doe eyes on him and they turn sad while she gurgles the water in her puffed up cheeks and spits it again into sink, about to protest with him but he’s shushing her and laying her back onto the seat.

“Not even me?” She grumps up at him and he’s retorting shaking his head in rejection, he's just trying to rile her up because he himself thinks that a single peck wouldn’t hurt.

“You’ll get an answer to this after we're done with you,” He muses softly when her eyes flicker with glee.

She was all over him as if she’s a small baby who needs his guidance to walk her way out and Harry was waving his staff goodbye with nervous lamblike smile while he tries to balance her against his chest.

The whole ride back he refrained from cooing and making im-a-fool-who-is-shamlessly-in-love noises. How could he not? When she looks this cute and cuddly in his clothes, head lulling every once a while as she sleeps facing him, her hand on his thigh to keep her reminded of his presence.

Harry’s grabbing it and kissing her knuckles. A jolly smile fluttering on his features and he isn’t waking her up as the reach and takes her into his flat – flumps her down on his bed gently and gets rid of her shoes and sweater.

Even skips dinner. Gets out of his work clothes and takes a glance of his sleepy girl standing from the wardrobe and the light clicks off before his gangly body is sliding under the duvets beside her.

Warm, sweet and cosy.

His all day's exhaustion fuses into nothingness when his feet comes caressing her calves and his chest presses to her shoulders and his elbows shelters around her in a protecting loving manner.

His heart hiccups a happy beat when she turns to his side and snuggles into him murmuring in haze, “Love you.”

He trips into utter shock. Staring down at her with baffled eyes but then the memories from past night comes upon crashing down at him like a crystal wave of ocean and floats him to an island where he belongs, always fated to belong.

He confessed his love for her.

She confessed it back.

They both were stupid and forgot it.

Now when she’s telling him that she loves him Harry feels like he’s rather about to pass out or squeal into pillow.

“I love you too, baby.” He's just wrapping her closer to him and lingering a wet kiss to her forehead.

..

Y/N’s moral was grinded, she keeps on swiping her tongue over it even how much Harry scolds her about it (it feels like a small plateau that got separated away because of an earthquake, y/n has made her own imagination about her tooth) and Harry let her chose the colour of filling that will be the mould of her crown, it was just an unnecessary thing to make her feel cheerful about it.

“Is Harry busy? Who’s inside?” She’s asking the old receptionist tapping her nails against the marble counter in eagerness to be done with it and that she’s about to take him to this yummy Thai place.

“Oh. He’s with his girlfriend right now.” Placid sereneness dooms over them and Y/N falls frightfully quite.

The poor assistant doesn’t know what she has uttered.

She just told her what the rumours has told her.

Her jittery smile drops into a blue scowl, her legs weakens at the thought and she nearly trips when Holly appears from inside his room.

It bitters her mouth with taste of anger and outrage.

Holly passes her a tight empathetic smile as if she knew everything from start and Y/N’s striding past her in resentment, her mind smoked with betrayal and vehemence.

“Hi. Moppet.” He rolls his stool over smiling up at her and it tightens her chest so much she chokes onto a breath.

How could he? No. No.

How dare he!?

But, there’s no need to cry over split milk now is it? She has to accept it that they could never be something more than just bestfriends.

“Hi.” She mumbles blocking her tears in the back of her eyes somewhere and Harry frowns, asking politely as she sits, “Feelin' alright?” She just nods and it takes Harry off-guard.

Where is his bubbly Muffy?

“Are you hurtin' somewhere?” He asks again pushing her upper lip to get a better look of her tooth. When she denies he lets it slide.

Though, when the assistant injects her and she’s groping Harry’s thigh because in grief everything hurts more than usual and her heart is dripping with sorrow and loneliness and grief she’s on verge of breaking into pieces right on this seat.

Harry’s brows clinches together in worry but she’s inhaling a puff of breath and giving him an etiolated smile to finish this as soon as possible and leave before she humiliates herself infront of him.

Her crown didn’t fit and he had to do a little more grinding. Meanwhile, Holly’s entering the room and Y/N shuts her eyes pretending that she isn’t there.

It hurts. Not in her tooth. Everywhere. Like a force is ripping her apart through a saw and it hurls her into deep agony and her heart almost stops functioning.

Harry was too focused and worried about her eerie behaviour that he ignored the frail hits on his thigh and Holly’s taking his name loudly making him stop.

Y/N’s jolting up and gagging into the sink beside her. Her knuckles turning white from gripping it ruthlessly.

She stares the clots of blood and mucus washing away with blurry eyes.

“Baby?” Harry quickly rubs her back anxiously and scrutinise with raucous beating heart as her hands shivers cupping the water and taking it in her mouth.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Are y'okay? Pet?” His voice drips with panic and dread that the worst happened to her because of him --– if the case's true he's never gonna touch her again.

“Y/N!?” He’s growling loudly when she doesn’t reply him and keeps on crying. His eyes turning back concerned and soft when she hiccups a weep, “It hurts Harry ....” Holly rolls her eyes, leans against the desk and puts the file she brought to Harry beside her.

“You’re not a child anymore, Y/N. Ofcourse it’s gonna hurt.” She snickers and this makes Y/N cry more – Harry’s holding her hands in his and stroking his thumb at her knuckles.

“Dunno --...– maybe –- ma —,” Harry’s emerald eyes are boring into her murky one's and it pierces her soul away from her inside.

Their heads perk up when Holly asks her rudely, “Are you doubting Harry?”

Y/N shakes her tiny defeated head vigorously, “No! Why —.. why would I?” More tears pooling in her waterline and dropping at the back of Harry’s hand. He rushes to wipe them away and shush her but Holly’s acidic laugh is echoing.

How could she even think that?

Y/N could never doubt him.

Why she has to be so mean to her everytime?

“I mean you —,” Holly opens her mouth to speak but Harry’s cutting her off sharply, “Dr. Jenner enough. I’ll appreciate it if you wait f'me outside.” His head snaps back to Y/N who’s wiggling out of his hold and gasping out -- her pupils blown out and woozy.

“I just need a breather.” Saying this she’s out before Holly leaving Harry baffled and agitated to ponder over how she was pain and he failed to realise sooner.

..

The zephyr is tranquil. Frolicking with her heart and the grass is dewy under her as she runs towards an empty bench outside where there’s barely any light and she wishes Harry never comes to look for her.

She’s such a mess.

Her chest suffocates with a sob. She’s trying to lull her breath back to normal just like he tells her to.

When she flutters her eyelids into vision a hand with a cross on it’s thumb is pressed onto the bench beside her and there’s an afflicted pause in the atmosphere before she slowly faces him and places her hand atop his hand.

Her breath shudders through a smile, the tension in between them thickening as Harry feels her so close but so distant from him.

Emotionally and mentally and even their souls feels trapped within their own bodies.

It upsets him, to see his Bambi like that,

“’M so sorry, Harry. My intention wasn’t to embarrass you.” She isn’t serious? Sometimes he wants to bang his head at nearby wall at her silliness.

“You didn’t.” He assures her gently.

“But I did. Infront of the person you love.” It pains to say it. In the end she could suffer from anything for his happiness even if it’s handing him to the wrong person if he loves them.

Harry’s eyes turn moist at that. An unbelievable sour laugh eliciting from his lungs as he shoves his palms into his sockets, rubs them harshly and grasps her wrists pulling her closer to him with one furious tug.

“Yeah because that’s you, dumbass!!” Y/N’s body turns into a stone at his stern confession and she’s staring him with a throb in her heart and sad kitten eyes.

His brows pricks together ferociously and his lips twitches up as he speaks chopped on tears, “Every Daphne I pick up from the side-grass while comin’ back home t’you, these stupid stars in sky ‘n these ...” His shoes scrapes against the grass as he tries to show her, “....these stupid stupid shoelaces I tie around me ankles,” He’s raising his wrist to show her the milk bottle tattoo he got for he’s in love with her and their cats, once they were drunk, “... this fuckin' tattoo I got —- ‘s always been you.” He let’s the tears shine on his cheeks and soak them rosy.

“Always you, Bambi.” His accent gluteus and hoarse, “You’re always gonna be my sweet Bambi. Who I adore and love so much.”

“How?” She whispers in bewilderment and when Harry’s warming his forehead against her's tickling her lips as he murmurs, “Because you thought we'd be a wonderful us.”

A sob is wrecking out of her and she’s wrapping her arms around the nape of his neck pulling him down into a bone crushing hug, as the night they first confessed and had their first kiss makes a home in her mind.

She’s glad they didn’t forget their first.

“I love you.” Harry mumbles through a squished up cheek and saturates their chests closer with his hand planted firmly over her spine.

“I love you too. So much of it.” They’re crying elated tears knowing they’ve eachother to wipe them away and he’s sponging a tender kiss to her mouth and the corner of her lip avoiding where it’s swollen and her cheek is bloated.

The metallic taste of her blood lingers on his own lips.

“I could even kiss your bloody mouth, see?” He giggles feathering back his lips to her lips and gives her a chastise peck.

“Let’s put your crown, my highness.” Harry scoops up giggles from within her and tries to cherish this moment for as long as possible.

He’s never gonna forget his first, done twice.

..

Not a days go by where they don’t make love to eachother. A string of knot that connects their souls as Harry keeps his cock warm inside her while sleeping and it fattens inside her when they’re about to wake up and Harry’s rolling his hips into her lazily and gradually getting out breathy hums and whispers of whines from her —- her ankles locks behind his back and he’s always hitting and caressing the spots inside her which she was never able to reach herself with her short fingers.

Their bath times are intimate. Not full of adrenaline and thrill that one would end up having a foot cast from tripping from their playfulness, like they used to everytime. It’s delicate touches. Soft back rubs. Foamy head massages and cuddly bubbles. Smooching wet kisses. Heated makeout sessions and then drying eachother off, brushing teeth together and going to bed wearing eachother’s mismatched clothes.

Their mornings are spent lounging in bed and sharing a little love, sweet irresistible kisses, mouth sweet with eachother's tongues and hands comforting eachother, having a satisfying brekkie together in bed and sometimes the other is too tired to go (it’s usually Harry) and they always remind them they’re gonna come back home to eachother.

Harry made, Y/N explore herself. Introduced her to the tingles of what it feels to be rough and have a good shag that sends her into her sub-space where she doesn’t stop thrashing and spasming under him and He’s always there to bring her back to him and to take care of her.

They sometime do it in his office room too. Whenever she’s visiting him and he looks to alluring that Y/N could swallow him whole and his thighs man-spread deliciously as he sits on the stool in his damn scrubs, “You c’mere.” He pats his thigh dirtily in a command for her to straddle him and ride his cock and she’s always obeying like a good bunny moaning out feeling him in her tummy.

They’ve had countless of sex in Harry’s living room which they turned into a working studio for Y/N and whenever she's painting sometimes naked to tease him, how could Harry resist when she looks ethereal with her peachy bosom and her adorable tummy rolls and her innocent eyes and her cushiony thighs —- so he just pushes her thighs that he’s oh so in love with to her chest and pins her to floor and fucks her till she isn’t satiated enough.

Shower sex and bit of striptease when Harry’s knackered out. The hot water that prattles on their toes and their sweaty skins that slaps against eachother’s makes it much filthier and nastier.

They’ve bunch of romantic sex too. Oh boy! Just loads of romance where he’s too soft and mushy and dotting with her.

Sometimes, two people have deep connection that makes seem romance trivial and it isn’t about lust everytime. It’s about their souls. About the deepest part of who they’re as a person. Who they could be for eachother when the time strikes.

Just like right now. As, the stars twinkle outside and the dark snowy wind hits the windows; checked by the occasional gust that rattles the rooftop and the wood would creak to tell it’s presence. Fragrance of scented candles that of peonies, sparkling champagne and crème almonds surrounds them.

Harry brought Y/N on a holiday at a mountain and had a warm cosy wooden cottage booked for themselves.

They’ve spent it enjoying themselves and forgetting about their life in city. Today, the layer of foamy crystal snow is more than usual and they decided to cuddle up into their own little comfy cubby.

He takes his time feeling her skin and she nuzzles her nose up in his throat and giggles when he purrs.

The fire churning infront of them is similar to the one quenching in his belly as he sneaks his hand under her slip dress and fondles her nipples in between his calloused fingers.

“I wanna make love t'you, Muffy.” He mumbles grazing his blunt teeth down her sweaty pulse and laps at it splaying his palm close to her bum when she arches up into him, “I’m all yours.” She guppies around a gasp and he’s chuckling sweetly cradling her face in his hold and brews his lips against her's in a passionate endearingly hot kiss that moists her breath and her each ravine pore fills with love for him.

Their chests burns with carnal desire as he lays them on the flumpy nest of bed they made from blankets and pillows, his mouth keeps on tasting her with ardent fever and he situates himself between her and grinds their pelvises sensing her nipples stitching under his fingers and she’s gnawing her teeth into his petalish lip when he fills his palms with her tits.

“So cute.” He quips when she gasps whining for him to smudge his cocoa-vaseline covered lips back on her's and her lips brushes against his clavicles, emitting a perfervid whimper as Harry strokes his palm to feel her arousal and juices, “Hmm. I could just give you a flyin' kiss and you’ll still end up squirting.” He's easing his middle finger inside her and gazes her with profound sweetness when she pushes her palm up against his large moth and punctuates soft kisses to his vein at the side of his neck that prominents from their intimacy.

“Fuck. You get t've me cock daily but still so snug, pet. G’na stretch y'nice ‘n good.” He grunts, trailing soppy kisses down the valley of her breasts. Slicking his mouth around her nipple and she whines hungrily unceasing her fingers in his curls and pulls at them bringing him down for more kisses, “You love my kisses baby? Hmm? My baby loves me kisses ...” He coos suckling onto her lower lip and latches back full to her mouth and perennials it into pastels of wetness.

Sips down her moans when he slithers three more fingers into her and fits them deep, cupping his palm against her pussy. Something weirdly soft about his bare ring-less fingers and he runs his hips into her, “Feels good?” He growls looking down where his fingers drives into her.

When she bobs her head hungrily. She squirms – goosebumps pebbling on her skin and the mellow glow of candles melting on her when he pecks her and pecks her again, kissing her tongue as he mumbles, “Bet. It’ll feel more good with my cock inside y’pussy. Tell me moppet, who's little cunt is this?” He asks wiggling his middle finger to nudge the walnut shaped spot inside her – tucked within her walls and his other hand’s pressing her thigh to floor as he saps his teeth into her neck and leaves love bites.

Marking her as his’s.

“Yours. Please, it’s all yours.” She sobs out ardently. Crumbling and lurking at the edge to hold this pleasing feeling for some moment in her belly.

“Right.” He affirms. Licking the maroon marks he littered on her puddy skin and he's grabbing her shivery hand that was about to cup around his cock and stroke it, “You’re mine.” He strings their fingers together and brings it to his lips to kiss the soft pads of her fingers.

“All mine to love on, to cherish, to be proud of –-- You’re my little Bambi.” His infatuated dotting words are making her strike herself into him, quivering and blabbering, eyes shut in bliss and love and he’s helping her ride the sensation out.

The moment he’s taking his fingers out he’s interlacing those sticky cum covered fingers with her other hand and stretching her arms and pinning their winded hands atop her head into floor.

They’re moaning into waxy humidity when Harry sheathes into her and her walls soaps around his girth as he sinks himself into her, his heavy balls pressed buried deep to her bum and he’s smushing his face into her breasts and almost snuggles into her knowing how much she loves to just be wrapped into him as he pounds his cock inside her.

He’s sweltering his hips. Feeling her gooey warmth and rolls himself harder and she’s crossing her arms around his shoulder – kissing his neck and caressing the curls that’ve grown out a tad under his earlobes.

“I love you,” He's nosing at her jaw to tip her mouth towards him and kisses it —- his hold on her delicate but she’s coveting crescents into his knuckles and a bow of string connects their mouths as she pecks him till she’s running out of breath, “I love you. I love you so so much.” Even though they’re taking their time but Y/N doesn’t think she could last a minute longer the way he’s thrusting languidly but deeply into her.

“Show me then, c’mon baby cum on m’cock. Soak it. G'na keep it inside you ‘n sleep like tha', mphmp makin' me so so good —- g'na cum?” He rasps out and she’s whimpering blubbering out without much mind as he stuffs her full and enough.

Her voice meek and high-pitch, “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” She’s dripping all over him and coating him with her cum. He doesn’t not stop and pumps it back inside her roughly.

“Fuck. Baby.” His howl wounded and broken as he feels his balls tighten and he leaks inside her, “S'okay honey cum inside me Harry .. love how you make me feel – how big your cock is.” She grates her teeth into the eternity of his throat and punctures her lips to suck around the fading hickey she gave him two nights prior.

His hips stutters, and he keeps himself up with his weak elbows spurting ribbons and ribbons of thick seed inside her.

She moans out when he wouldn’t stop cumming and she thrashes upward with a final twist of his push, his words sultry and drunk on libido, “Fuck. I came so much – you’ll ‘ave to squeeze tha’ all out fo’ me,” He’s smoothing their arms down to let them be on eachother and Y/N sees the gears working in his mind when he grins.

“In case you’ll want a refill.”

She rolls her eyes cheek smashed into his bicep and pinches his nipple, “Way to ruin the moment –- you libido driven slut." A noise peeps out of her when he whumps on her and looks up at her with an amused expression.

“Y'know tha' slut shaming is inappropriate?” She just shrugs smiling around a yawn.

“Is that an invitation to whore shame y'then?” He listens to her heartbeat. Tracing pattern of yellow flicker on her skin and kisses the curve of her breast.

“Will that end up me havin' yer fingers in my bum?” She creampies around him at his genuine yet naughty question and he snorts out loudly stirring his cock on purpose that’s still snug inside her, “Hmm then ‘m defo a whore.”

“Harry!” She pouts and he squishes that pout as if she’s some duckling -- an old habit he'd never get rid of.

..

“Mrs. Styles!” Holly’s head perks up at the call and she’s looking down at the five month old baby that has her bum situated on her momma’s hip and she squeals joyfully bunching her momma's shirt in her tiny chubby hands.

Holly just simpers quietly not greeting the duo and keeps on walking as Y/N enters Harry’s office room.

His face brightens up. Dimples popping awfully cute just how Y/N loves and his smile widens into a toothy one as he leaves everything and scurries towards his girls, “Oh my two Bambis!” He's greeting them with loud sloppy loving kisses all over their faces that makes them squint their eyes and giggle ticklish from the faint stubble that’s growing on his chin.

Their baby. Harry never thought he was able to love someone this purely and extremely. From a grumpy kid himself and someone who used to loose his shit at the formula chugging machines he used to call them —-- he never even imagined to own one.

But, after two years into marriage and moving into a house with the love of his life everything had a possibility for him and their one room that’d look so empty just made his stomach squeaky and yearn for a little one that he could protect and hold delicately close to his chest and lather them in his kisses and smell their baby scent and have cuddles with them,

Harry really wanted her to be a December baby -- if not particular then winters.

Because she just looks like the joy of Christmas and the sapience of homely evening.

Her frost bitten poppy nose. Her plushy warm cheeks that of running his fingers over an old sweater that holds infinite memories for him, the shimmer in her eyes that of snowflakes and those lips she got from her mother that of marshmallows melting on hot chocolate.

Harry really fucked his dream of her being a winter baby by fucking Y/N at the wrong time of the year.

She ended up coming out on the most heated month, june.

Wasn’t his fault too. Because they were trying for so long and he'd be all excited for the pregnancy tests but then they'd come out negative everytime weighing a ball of sadness in his chest and when they conceived her –-- he didn’t even remember the damn date.

The pregnancy for them wasn’t that hard. Minus the eventual tantrums that were thrown his way as daggers but he was skilled to dodge them and lure his wifey back to him with chocolate chip cookies.

The process of her birth was life taking for Y/N and Harry had short comings in his breath from the way his wife would all be jerking in pain.

She had to endure the labour pain for three days.

It’d always tear him into sobs as he'd fall into Rori's arms while everyone stayed inside with her for a moment.

It wasn’t easy to look at the love of his life, his bestfriend, his Bambi, his everything go through so much pain and he almost ended up regretting having a baby but when she’d be all snuggled up into his side after a long tiring and screaming day with her bump swollen beautifully with his bubba inside, it used to relax him a bit,

When she came out all sticky and covered in blood he realized at that moment that; she truly is his’s.

Those earthy gem eyes that didn’t cry first five minutes but rather kept on staring at him intrigued as to why the man that used to chatter her ears away in thick sleepy accent when she was in the cosy spot of her mummy’s belly is now just crying and crying.

They made her with so much love and care.

She was just so soft to touch. Just like their favourite flowers.

She was his Daphne.

He’s grabbing her from armpits and immediately putting a hand under her diaper clad bum when she huffed making grabby hands at him, “Hi Daphne bub! Missed daddy much?” He coos bouncing her a little and rumbles his lips against her cheek to create farty noises.

She squeals fisting his hair and yanks at it. That makes Y/N laugh out loudly, “Careful there, H. She’s getting quite handsy.” He just smiles convincing his baby to have some mercy on his curls.

When Y/N tells him about his routine and her nap timing Harry’s just sighing kissing her lips and patting her ass to move, “I can take care of me baby -- doin' it fo' five months, forgot?” He took a paternity leave to spend more time with Daphne and his Bambi.

To be sure that they were growing and healing well.

Y/N has to take the cats for their monthly checkup that’s why she has to leave Daphne with Harry and even though she’s not fond of her in hospitals Harry assured her that he’s heading home soon.

When Y/N leaves, Harry blows raspberries at her face and she pouts just like her mummy and he’s squishing that pout like his own little duckling.

“Da',” She grumbles and Harry kisses her cheek fondly and lovingly, “Yes Da, bubblin. Guess like we’ve got a date with Pooh and Roo at home.” He guffaws out loudly when Daphne's eyes visibly twinkles at the name of her plushies she likes to chew on and get them all soggy by the end of the day.

“You’re such a minx, baby!” Harry thinks he couldn’t be happier.

He’s complete.

His family is complete.

[katyasrussianaccent]

you're so golden (corpse x reader)

Summary: You're a faceless youtuber that sings cover songs. What happens when a certain faceless streamer slides into your DMs after you cover one of his songs?

Author's Note: Don't hate me! This was gonna be a cute chapter but then I decided against that. Credit to @moontwinkles for the spilling scene idea. Let me know what you think!

Masterlist

The sound of your alarm wakes you from your slumber with a suddenness. Bleary-eyed, you roll over to turn it off, letting out a small sigh as your body and brain start to awaken. You’re going to meet Corpse. You’re going to meet Corpse. It bares repeating in your mind; the prospect still not quite registering.

You haven’t had the greatest sleep, your mind racing most of the night; skittish little thoughts that had you tapping your toes on the mattress in agitation as you struggled to turn them off. Sunlight streams through the cracks in your blinds, a warm glow painted in stripes on your wall. It was going to be a good day, tiredness be damned.

You get up, stretching your arms out as wide as possible and relishing in the relief as your muscles unclench themselves. There’s a little spring in your step as you walk to the bathroom, to wash your face and brush your teeth. You aren’t nervous as you pick out your favourite outfit, instead you feel excited. It’s funny how little scraps of fabric and thread can impact your mood so much, but you smile at your reflection, the feeling of confidence is nice, albeit rare.

The rumbling in your stomach signals that you need to eat something before you leave. Nothing too fancy, just some toast and a glass of juice. You can feel the nerves start to grow a little, the food sits heavy on your tongue, forcing you to swallow it. You grab your phone, scrolling as you chew. You go onto Corpse’s twitter, smiling at the picture he’s posted.

Out of curiosity, you go onto his likes. You always find his likes interesting; the random things he’s added gives you more of an insight to his thoughts and feelings. You chew the inside of your cheek as you scroll down past girls with perfect skin and bodies; your previous confidence now feels a little misplaced.

Deciding against letting it ruin your mood, you close the tab and go to grab your bag before locking your door and heading to your car. You text Rae to let her know you’re leaving and she replies almost immediately to wish you luck. Sitting in front of the steering wheel, you exhale as you start the engine and begin to drive. This was really happening. When Corpse had asked to meet, you were shocked. While you had discussed it, you had been under the assumption it would be a while before it happened. You just hope you don’t make an idiot of yourself; a tendency you had when you were nervous.

While you love the city, there’s something about driving on the open road. No noise, just the sound of tires on concrete. The scenery remains the same; nothing but trees and the occasional house far in the horizon. You’re meeting him in Santa Barbara; a place you’ve been to once in your life, so it might as well be brand new. It’s halfway between both of you, and while it’s still a few hours drive, you’ve got good music and some sunshine to keep you happy.

The drive flies in and before you know it, you’ve arrived. You’re meeting at a cafe that sells bubble tea; it was Corpse’s recommendation. It’s a charming little place, with white table and chairs on a cobbled patio area. The building itself is white brick, plant pots decorate the window sills and there’s a small crowd of people waiting in line. You turn off the engine, and grab the perfume out your bag, the smell of peaches invading your nostrils. With one last look at yourself, you exit your car and make your way to the cafe.

You’re not sure how you’ll find him, being faceless and all. A quick scan of the people around you, your eyes zero in on a figure dressed all in black, leaning against a wall that’s slightly in the shade. There’s butterflies in your stomach as you look at him from afar, your feet apparently unable to move on their own accord. He stands out amongst the brightly coloured outfits of everyone else, and you can see the sun glint against the chains on his jeans.

“Hi,” you greet, your hand going up to half-wave at him. He’s handsome; pale skin and cheekbones that disappear under the fabric of his mask. A mop of black curls are atop his head, falling out in different directions, and he brushes one off his forehead as he looks at you.

“Hey,” he replies and you smile a little. There’s a thick fog of awkwardness between you as you both take each other in, though trying not to look so obvious about it. You feel under scrutiny as his eyes move over you, and you meet his gaze before you both look down at the ground, a faint blush on your cheeks.

“How was the drive?,” you ask at the same time he does, causing you both to laugh. “Oh. Uh yeah it was good, thanks, how was yours?”

“Yeah it was good,” he replies, his eyes still on the ground.

“That’s good.”

“Yeah.”

You scream internally as your eyes dart around, looking for something, anything to break this awkwardness. It shouldn’t be like this, you have such great chemistry on the phone and online, but there’s nothing right now. Is it you? There’s a niggling in your brain that says he was fine until now; until he saw you.

“We could go, uh, into the cafe? Get some food?” he suggests, breaking you from your self deprecating thoughts. You nod and you follow him to the door. He opens it and you dodge out the way as it narrowly escapes hitting you in the face. Corpse mutters an apology as he walks in, his eyes glued to the ground.

You order together; you get yourself a boba tea and a burger and Corpse does the same. He pays without saying anything to you, and while the day’s isn’t going quite as you pictured, the gesture makes your cheeks warm. You desperately hope it gets better. Maybe you’ve misread the situation and the chemistry you felt you had was just friendship on his part. Friends flirt all the time, and it doesn’t have to mean anything.

Your food arrives and you sit in relative silence as you eat. The times you do speak is stilted, full of one word answers and obvious observations. You go to reach for your boba as Corpse goes to grab salt, and the movement of his hand plus the crampedness of the table pushes your own hand back towards you, knocking the cup all over your neck and chest. Corpse shoots up in a speed that shouldn’t be human, his hand full of napkins as he comes towards you. The liquid is cold against your skin, and you look down to see your outfit now ruined, the fabric sticking to you in wet patches.

“I’m such a fucking idiot, I’m so sorry,” Corpse says, his tone panicky as he dabs at your neck. He continues to dab, his hands pressing at the neckline of your top and if this was another time, you’d feel all fluttery at his hands on your skin. But it’s not, you’re uncomfortable and the day has sucked so far and all you want to do is go home. He discards the napkin onto the table and grabs another, his fingers warm against your collarbone as he presses the tissue. He doesn’t realise that he’s travelling downwards to your chest before he presses once, twice, before retracting his hand back like he’s been burned, the napkin falling to the floor. “Uh fuck, sorry, I didn’t realise I - “

“It’s fine,” you reassure him. “I’ve always wanted apple scented boobs, guess I can check that off my bucket list.” It’s a failed joke but humour is a defence mechanism for you, even if it’s not very funny. Corpse widens his eyes a little, his gaze fixed on the napkin that’s on the floor.

He hands you some more napkins and you clean up a little more. Your skin feels sticky, and you smell of artificial apple; but the apple isn’t sweet, it’s bitter and slightly unpleasant.

“Uh, I should probably go home and get a shower, I feel like I fell into a vat of sugar,” you say, standing up and grabbing your bag.

“Oh, yeah, I’m so fucking sorry, I’m so clumsy,” Corpse replies. You can tell he feels awful, and while you sympathise, he’s not the one that’s just had almost a full cup of boba spilled on him.

You shake your head, “It’s fine, really. I just feel really gross. Don’t worry about it.” You smile in what you hope comes across as reassurance.

“Let me walk you back to your car,” he says. You nod and walk out together in silence; something you had gotten used to throughout the day.

“Have a safe drive back,” you say as you get to your car.

“I will. Let me know when you get home?” he asks, and you nod.

“Shall do. Goodbye Corpse,” you say, opening the door and waving at him through the window. He waves back and you watch him through the rearview mirror as he disappears out of sight. You feel like an idiot for believing this was going to be good, like you ever had a chance with him. You’d been saying it since the start; that it wouldn’t work, you had nothing in common, nothing to talk about. And you were right. Sometimes you hated being right.

You turn the engine on and sit there for a second, your head pressing against the steering wheel. What a waste of time this was. Grabbing your phone, you tweet quickly.

“Oh well, let’s go wallow in self pity,” you whisper before driving off.

Taglist: @genshinglitter @fanworrior @cherry-piee @mirahg @clara-bee @clubfairy @youretheonlyonewhomakesme @more-like-reyna @boiled-onionrings @moneybagmgk @brendalopez99 @delicateavenuenacho @dreamsofficialwife @hydrate-tion @oi-itsemily @letsloveimagines @softforqiankun @evilunicorns4minions @captain-willowwitch @afuckingunicornn @theroyalbrownbarbie @buttersnitzle @officiallyunofficialperson @aha-red @frostbitelokii @butterfly-skinnylegend @sofianunes10 @ghostfacefricker6969 @alienvarmint @helena-way07 @woah2pointo @jasmine2042003 @youhyakuya @adore-holland @hyunjinhugs @finahja @lupinpetersclearwaterodairparker @only-corpse-hands @remugoodgirl @gowhiteboygo-poggers @open-minded-chip-101 @daveedfanfics @justakpopstans @majasophieanna @mxjetlagcity @strawberrydonkey @meowtella @lizzylynch1 @chesca-791 @anescapefromtheworld @unded-bride @majasophieanna @adorkably @lost--in--the--moon @euphoricseokjin

[braindeadbaddie]

A Case Study in Kisses: Bajifuyu Through the Years

half for me, half for you, sticky kisses for two

Chifuyu and Baji will always split half a peyoung yakisoba.

They will buy one..two or ten, eat half of each, and then switch.

Baji is sentimental, and although Chifuyu thinks it’s a little impractical, he indulges him because he loves him. He loves to think that this is something that they do. This is theirs.

Baji does not eat peyoung yakisoba with anyone else, because when Chifuyu is done with his half, he always cups his face, and kisses him deep. He licks his way into his mouth, bites his bottom lip, and sucks on his tongue until Chifuyu is a whimpering, withering mess.

“For the extra flavor,” Baji says while licking his lips when he pulls away.

Then he goes on to continue eating, like he didn’t turn Chifuyu’s brain to mush.

Baji doesn’t tell him, but peyoung yakisoba always makes him crave his kisses. And the flavor always tastes a bit better from Chifuyu’s lips.

melting clouds

“Thank you for your patronage, have a good day,” Chifuyu says with a cheery voice as he waves off the last customer of the day.

Chifuyu sighs as the customer service smile melts off his face.

Today has been a long day. A very very long day.

He rubs the side of his neck, trying to work out the extra stress that has built there as he walks towards the door to flip the sign to “closed.” He lets out another long sigh before turning around and walking through the store to look for his boyfriend, so they can hurry up and get home, where they can hide away in the covers and pretend nothing exists but the two of them.

He turns into the cat food aisle and sees his boyfriend… laughing with Kazutora.

Now…Chifuyu has forgiven Kazutora for the pain of the past. He understands why he did what he did and how he lost his sanity to the world. He loves Kazutora, because Baji loves Kazutora, and because to some extent, he gets Kazutora.

So he understands exactly what is behind the look in his eyes when he looks at Baji.

Chifuyu’s been there too.

He swallows, try to work down some of the jealousy that is working into his guts.

It doesn’t work.

Fuck it.

Chifuyu walks up to the pair, throwing his arms around Baji, and nuzzling his face in the side of his neck. He gives him a squeeze as he lets out his third and loudest sigh. He feels the rumble of his boyfriend’s laugh before he hears it, the two working in tandem to send a hot thrill down to his toes, just as stepping into a warm bath would.

“Long day?” Baji asks, the sympathy apparent in his voice.

He nods, the exhaustion catching up to him as he rests his head against the back of Baji’s shoulder.

“The store is mostly clean, I can go count the register and finish everything up if you guys wanna get home a bit earlier…” Kazutora says, his voice masking most of the envy Chifuyu knows he feels.

“You sure?” Baji says, the rumble of his deep voice soothing Chifuyu’s heart. He could fall asleep standing up.

“Yeah definitely. Besides, I owe y’all one remember,” he says.

Chifuyu only sleepily hums, arms loosening around Baji’s waist. He feels his boyfriend turn around and wrap his arms around him to keep him upright.

“Well since this one is so tired, I’ll let ya. Thanks, Tora,” Baji says appreciatively.

“Mm, thanks Tora…” Chifuyu mumbles out, leaning heavily on Baji’s shoulder. He hears Kazutora’s retreating footsteps over the soft lull of Baji’s heart.

“You look like a little kitten,” Baji whispers softly, carding his fingers through Chifuyu’s fingers.

“Baji,” he mumbled, leaning into the touch. He tips his head up, searching for a kiss, all without opening an eye.

Baji chuckles and plants a small kiss on his nose.

“Baji….” he whines, feel the skin burning with the oncoming blush.

The rumble from Baji’s boisterous laugh, shakes Chifuyu up enough to flutter his eyes open and pout.

He feels the way Baji’s breathe gets caught in his throat, watching with sleepy eyes at the way his Adam’s apple bops up and down.

“God, you’re so pretty it’s unfair,” Baji mumbled before gracing him with a pillow soft kiss.

Chifuyu sighs into it, and for the first time that night, he feels all the stress, all the worry, and the entire world melt away.

All that matters right now is Baji’s soft kiss, lifting him up up up, causing him to float away.

Cloud 9 could never be as sweet as Keisuke Baji’s lips.

the sweetest sound (my name on your lips)

“Chifuyu,” Baji says with his beloved’s head tucked under his chin.

“Yes Baji-san,” he answers, his back firm against Baji’s chest.

“You know…you should start calling me by my first name. I don’t know why you’ve kept these formalities up like we haven’t been together for like….ever” he mumbles into his hair.

He almost misses the way Chifuyu stops breathing. But who could blame him…his heart is going so fast he can barely hear or feel anything but thump thump thump thump.

Chifuyu lowers the heat on the stove, where he’s making tea and turns around to face Baji. He looks up at him, a pink blush dusting his face, his plump bottom lip caught in his pearly teeth.

God, how could his boyfriend look so cute, so sweet, so absolutely breathtaking with nothing but Baji’s big sweatshirt on in the dim afternoon light in his kitchen.

Chifuyu could run Hakkai and all the other models in the world out of business.

“K-Kei…” he says bashfully, intoxicating green eyes darting between Baji’s eyes and….everywhere but Baji’s eyes.

“Hah…” Baji breathes out as the air is punched out of his lungs, blood rushing to his face.

“Kei…” he says again, more firmly, holding his gaze this time.

Baji bites his lip to stop himself from making anymore embarrassing sounds.

“Kei…” Chifuyu whispers softly, tilting his head just the slightest.

“God…” Baji groans out before rest his forehead against his boyfriend’s. He presses a firm kiss to his lips, before doing it again and again and again.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Chifuyu,” he whispers softly into the small space between them.

Chifuyu mumbles out something incoherent before pressing a small kiss to the corner of Baji’s mouth.

“Baji-san,” he whispers back.

“No no. Kei.” he replies firmly, looking dead into his boyfriends mesmerizing oasis of green. “You have to get used to it because you’ll be ‘Baji-San’ one day too”

Then blush that sparks across Chifuyu’s face makes Baji fall in love all over again.

He watches him gulp, let out a shaky breath before looking up into his eyes.

“Ok…” he mumbles out.

lazy morning dew

“Kei…” Chifuyu says sleepily, caressing his lover’s torso with his ear pressed to his chest.

The man beneath him hums, tightening the arm around him. Chifuyu loves the vibrating feeling the courses from his boyfriend’s body into his. He plants a small kiss right over his heart, then plops his chin over his folded hands, looking up at the love of his life.

Baji looks down at him, rubbing soft circles into his skin. His grey eyes sparkle in the sunlight that seeps in between the blinds, shining in contrast against his beautiful sea of black hair, making them look like far away stars in the night sky.

And Chifuyu is helpless to do anything but cling to them like a lost traveler, trying to find his way.

“God, you’re so gorgeous,” he mumbled out, unable to stop the words from flowing out of him.

He feels a light blush rise to his face, but he can’t find it in him to feel embarrassed. Not with butterflies dancing around his stomach at the way Baji’s teeth sink into his bottom lip. Not with the way Baji’s cheekbones start to color in a pretty pink. Not with the way all the love in the world seems trapped inside Baji’s eyes.

“How can you say that when you look like this…?” Baji mumbles out, bringing up a hand to cup his face

“Chifuyu…” Baji whispers, rubbing his thumb across Chifuyu’s blushing face. “Man, you look like a dream.”

He feels all the breath leave his lungs in a soft whimper, helplessly nuzzling Baji’s palm. His eyes flutter close and holds his breath as his boyfriend’s sweet lips meet his own.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get over this. Not after knowing Baji for 13 years , being with him for the last 7, and living with him for the last 6.

He doesn’t think he could ever get over the way Baji’s lips brush softly against his in the morning, before planting them firmly in a sweet kiss. He loves the way he always uses his hand to guide Chifuyu, the way his arm tightens around him. He loves the way he never rushes in the morning, taking his time to explore Chifuyu with his lips, his tongue and his sharp teeth.

As Chifuyu wraps his arms around Baji’s neck, sinking deeper into the kiss, he think this is how the Earth must feel, being kissed by the sun every morning. Softly, slowly, bringing it to life in a new way, every day.

[taestefully-in-luv]

The Island | KTH (Ten)

Summary: You’re just two strangers waking up in a room on a lonely island where a company in the business of love has placed you. They believe that thanks to their in depth research you two are destined soulmates. What happens when your ‘soulmate’ and you want nothing to do with each other but falling in love is the only way to leave?

Pairing: Taehyung x Female reader

Genre: strangers to lovers, very slight enemies to lovers, soulmates au, roommate au, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, slight crack, and drama.

Word Count: 10k

Warnings: swearing, sexual tension (?) mentions of sex, public fingering, slow sex in the form of a flashback, making out, dirty talk, oral (male rec.)

Notes: Here’s chapter 10:) Next chapter is the chapter most of you are really anticipating hahah sorry it isn’t this one! But I hope you enjoy nonetheless. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, or send an ask if just want to chat about the stories!:)

Taglist: @ggukkieland @707sblog @peacedreamer14 @dopedreamfireparty @taebae19 @typicalgenzworld @mooniyooni @helenazbmrskai @justinetingball @jpeachytaev @marplest @calling-dips-on-j-hope @lecavivien @fancycollectormoon @mawwnsterr @siredsong

© taestefully-in-luv

Previous---Next

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Being really fucking nervous is actually the understatement of the century. You wish there was a better word to describe how you feel. Afraid, concerned, on edge, hesitant, jittery, jumpy, shy, tense, uneasy…you get the point. Meeting Taehyung’s parents is already a nerve wracking experience but in this situation it is even worse—you are the reason their son went into a major fucking depression for 6 months.

Taehyung has a big smile on his face though…he looks genuinely excited and not the least bit concerned. You on the other hand feel sick to your stomach, you feel like you have to gulp down literal puke every five minutes…or maybe every five seconds. Your hands are pooling with a gross amount of sweat and your stomach keeps twisting and turning.

“And my mom makes little sandwiches for us, like all the time.” Taehyung grins, he squeezes your hand in his as you two approach his parents’ house. “You ready?”

You feel the anxiety build, making you nauseas all over again.

“Sure.” You swallow down your nerves, looking up at Taehyung with worried eyes. His smile begins to fade as he observes you, he exhales a deep breath and lets go of your hand.

“Try to relax.” His hand goes to your hair, his fingers playing with it. “I wouldn’t bring you here if I thought it was going to go all wrong.” He says softly. “You have to trust me, remember?”

“Right…” you nod your head slowly. “You wouldn’t bring me to a place that people would hate me, right…” you wipe your hands on your jeans.

“y/n…” Taehyung reaches for your hand again, he intertwines his fingers with yours. “They don’t blame you.” He says under his breath. “I’m a grown ass man, I let myself go. Not you.”

“You can’t really be that naïve, Taehyung?” You breathe out, “At least one person blames me, that knows that I didn’t reach out to you—”

“I said to trust me, didn’t I?” Taehyung snaps, but he keeps his voice low. “I talked to my parents about bringing you over and they want to meet the girl from the photos. They rooted for us the entire time.” He tries to offer you a smile but you keep the frown that pulls down your lips.

“Why would they root for us…they don’t even know me.” You say quietly and Taehyung suddenly pulls you close, hugging you.

“Because they saw how happy we looked together. You saw the photos, right? You have to admit we make a cute couple.” He teases, holding you close.

“C-Couple…are we a couple?” you pull away from him slightly, you look into his dark eyes and give him a look that urges him to answer you.

“You’re asking if I’m like, your boyfriend?” he tilts his head, then he is pulling you back in, hugging you tightly. “I guess we really haven’t had that discussion yet.”

“Taehyung—”

“I want you to be my girlfriend. Will you?” He speaks lowly, his baritone voice vibrating his chest as your head is pushed up against it. “Can I introduce you as my girlfriend?” he sort of repeats and you feel your heart skip a beat—several in fact.

“You…you want me to be your girlfriend? But you won’t even kiss me?” you mumble into his chest.

Taehyung sighs out, he’s tired. Really tired of this same conversation. But he tries to be understanding of you and holds you even tighter.

“Remember we are taking it slow,” he reminds you. “But I’m yours. And you’re mine. So of course we are a couple. I’m your boyfriend…you’re my girlfriend.” He spells it out for you, “And that’s how we will introduce the other.”

You pull back from Taehyung and look into his eyes, his dark, beautiful eyes. You take a moment to let your eyes linger on his. They’re brown. But so much prettier than any other brown you’ve seen, they’re deeper. Like they hold so much mystery. You see the season of Autumn in his eyes. Like summer just ended, like the warmth of the sun still lingers. They’re the kind of eyes you can get lost in. Like you are doing right now.

“I’ll be your girlfriend.” You mumble shyly and Taehyung’s hands find your waist.

“You’re cute.” He states, “Too cute for me.” He squeezes your waist and you slowly close your eyes at how good it feels to have his hands on you.

“Don’t do that.” Taehyung warns. “I know that look.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” You say with your eyes still closed, his hands now lowering themselves to your hips.

“I know what you look like when you want to get fucked y/n.” he starts to massage your hips and you can’t help but let a small, small moan leave your lips.

“Fuck…” Taehyung releases a shaky breath as he watches you get worked up. “Will this relax you?” he asks, his voice low. “If I get you off?”

“W-What do you mean?” your eyes shoot open, “We’re outside your parents’ house.”

“And?” he raises a brow, his hand going to the button of your jeans, he unbuttons it with one hand. “There’s hardly anyone around here.” He slides down the zipper and you begin to frantically shake your head, trying to stop him. But you fail miserably. Apparently shaking your head wasn’t enough.

“Tae…there’s people walking.”

“Barely.” He looks around his surroundings. “You’re going to come all over my fingers, okay?”

Your eyes dart all around you but he’s right, the people are kind of far and not paying attention to you.

“Okay…” you agree breathlessly. Taehyung slips his long fingers into your pants, sliding beneath your panties and going straight for where your needy ass self wants him most. With his free hand, Taehyung pushes you against the gate of his parents’ house and covers you with his body. His fingers find your clit and he starts to rub slowly, trying to get you wetter. This goes on a for a minute or two before you are soaking his fingers in your juices then he is rubbing a bit faster, making your knees buckle.

“Ah, Taehyung…” you moan out quietly. “Stay on my clit, I can come like this.” You let him know softly, your words coming out broken as you try to breathe normally.

“Okay babe.” He circles his fingers around your clit, rubbing over and over until you’re whimpering. Your eyes shoot open though when you remember you’re in public, your eyes scan the area and when you see you are alone you slam them shut and let out a longer moan.

“Be a little quieter.” Taehyung chuckles, “Don’t want my parents to come out wondering what’s going on, now do we?” he teases you, his fingers working on your bundle of nerves faster now, with added pressure making your orgasm announce its arrival.

“I’m going to—I’m going to come.” Your head falls onto his chest, and with his other hand he reaches up for the back of your head and begins massaging your scalp.

“Come for me baby. Want you nice and relaxed.”

You’re so, so close when you notice a couple of women walking past, you try so hard to keep your orgasm at bay until they leave but being in this situation somehow pushes you over the edge. You bite down on Taehyung’s shoulder as you try to stay quiet as you come all over his fingers.

“Good, good.” He rubs your back, “Relax, relax.”

You try to calm your unsteady breaths as you recover from your high, his sticky fingers leaving your heat as he pulls them out of your pants. He immediately pushes his fingers past your panting lips and orders you to lick him clean.

“Now.” He says, waiting to feel your tongue clean him up.

Then you are buttoning your jeans back up and smoothing down your clothes and your hair. You look up at Taehyung and he grins down at you.

“Feeling better?” he asks, “By the way, the answer better be yes.” His fingers tilt your head up by the jaw, urging you to look at him more properly.

“Yes.” You say truthfully. “I just need a moment to catch my breath then we can go inside.”

“Of course.”

~

Taehyung’s parent’s house is really, really nice. Well, as far as you can tell from the outside…you two are standing outside the front door waiting to get let in. You feel your nerves come back to haunt you, making you feel nauseas all over again. Before you can get too into your head, the front door is swinging open and a beautiful woman is widening her eyes at you, then she is yelling behind her in Korean and man is rushing to the door. Taehyung’s parents.

“Ummmm…” You start gathering your courage to speak to them. “Hello. My name is y/n. Nice to meet you.” You say in your broken Korean. Taehyung whips his head in your direction and looks pleasantly shocked. A wide smile makes its way on his face as he watches you trying to communicate with his parents.

“She even speaks Korean!” Taehyung’s mother claps her hands excitedly, but you literally have no idea what she said. You only know a few things, like asking where the bathroom is, random animals and colors and saying hello and goodbye. You awkwardly nod your head though and Taehyung begins explaining to them that you in fact, do not know Korean.

“Oh, it’s okay, it’s okay.” Mrs. Kim brings her hand to her mouth as she tries to hide her growing smile. “We speak a little English…but we understand more than we speak…” she admits shyly and you can’t help but nod with a small smile.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You say, holding out your hand but she walks closer and pulls you in for a hug instead. “Thank you.” Mrs. Kim mumbles in your shoulder. “Just…thank you. Thank you for coming here…”

“Mom…” Taehyung drags out in a whine.

You feel a pang in your chest once you realize what his mother means…she’s not mad at you? But rather grateful that you finally came? This makes the guilt you previously felt worsen.

“Come in, come in!” Mr. Kim chimes, “Dinner should be ready soon.”

“y/n can help me?” His mom pulls away from you, her hands still on your arms. “Right?” She asks with a sweet smile. You nod your head and follow her inside. Taehyung grins as he watches you two walk away towards the kitchen, his dad smiles knowingly towards him and pats him on the back.

“We’re making bulgogi.” She says happily, “Have you had before?” she takes the marinated meat and starts placing pieces of meat inside the pan.

“Yes, but probably not as good at yours.” You smile. Mrs. Kim nods her head like she agrees with you then hands you the tongs to place the meat in the pan yourself.

“I am really happy…” Mrs. Kim watches you cook the meat, “And very grateful. Taehyung missed you so much…it was hard seeing him so sad.”

You take a deep breath…you probably should have guessed this conversation was coming.

“But he had the courage to go find you!” She claps her hands, “We raised him nicely, didn’t we?”

“I’m sorry…” you gulp, “I—”

“No, no. Taehyung explained everything. You had the courage to come here in the end, didn’t you? Your parents must have raised you nicely as well.” She says, her hand gesturing you to flip the meat.

“I guess so…” you turn the meat over in the pan. “Taehyung is hard to say no to.”

“He is…how do you say? Charming?” She gathers the side dishes and starts placing them on the table.

“He is.” You feel a blush creep on your cheeks. “He really is.”

Suddenly, you feel her hand on your arm. You turn your head to face Mrs. Kim and she’s looking at you with pleading eyes.

“……….” She says slowly, but you have no idea what she said. You scrunch your brows and look at her with a puzzled expression.

“You’ll learn Korean, won’t you? When you do, you will remember what I said.” She then smiles for you, letting go of your arm.

“I’ll try my best.” You say honestly. “Thank you for having me here by the way.”

“Of course, we watched the two of you through photos for 8 months…you feel like family.”

~

“She’s very pretty.” Mr. Kim tells Taehyung, “But I’m worried….no….it’s fine. This will all be fine.”

“She’s beautiful.” Taehyung smiles, “And don’t be worried…everything is going to turn out the way it’s meant to.”

“The way it’s meant to, huh?” His dad grins at him, pulling him in for a side hug. “I know you will make sure of that.”

“I don’t want anyone else.” Taehyung admits between soft breaths, “She is the one for me, I know it.”

“I remember being that sure about your mom.” Mr. Kim begins to reminisce, “I still feel that way.”

“I know.” Taehyung finally hugs his father back, both of them letting go. “You will love her too, you will get to know her and realize I have every right to be in love.”

“Oh son…we already know you are in love. We saw it even through those photos.” Mr. Kim begins walking to the kitchen, “And she’s a woman in love if I’ve ever seen it.” He chuckles, “You two will be okay.”

“You think so?” Taehyung follows his dad towards the kitchen where you and his mom are.

They walk through and see the two of you setting up the table, you both look happy and Taehyung couldn’t be more pleased.

“Smells good.” Taehyung sniffs the air around him dramatically, “Did she help mom?” Taehyung winks at you and you roll your eyes playfully.

“She cooked all the meat! Next time I will get her to make the marinate.”

“I would love to learn.”

“She would love to learn! You hear that?” Taehyung comes up to you and hugs you tightly. “I will learn with you.” He whispers in your ear and places a quick kiss to your cheek. You immediately feel yourself heat up, feeling slightly embarrassed that he would show affection in front of his parents. But they don’t seem to mind, they instead smile at one another before taking a seat at the table.

“So, we want to know all about your time on the island! Happy memories.” Mrs. Kim requests sweetly. “The photos weren’t enough for storytelling.”

“Hmm.” Taehyung stuffs his face with meat, “I was so mean to her at first.” He laughs and you hit his shoulder.

“Yeah, he didn’t even want to talk to me!” you whine.

“We said happy memories!” Mr. Kim chuckles, patting his mouth with a napkin. “What was your first kiss like?”

“Oh yes! It was probably sweet and pure. I can just see it!” Mrs. Kim chirps making you blush hella hard. Your first kiss was anything but pure.

“I don’t want to stop, Tae.” You blurt out quickly. “I want to keep going.” You flutter your eyelashes at him, “Please.” His eyes widen.

Taehyung’s hands grip at your waist and leans in again, kissing you once more. His lips find yours in desperation this time, he moves his lips against yours messily yet perfectly. His hands slide down just a bit until they’re gripping your hips, he gives them a squeeze and you squeal. So he squeezes your hips again until you’re whimpering in his mouth. He takes advantage of your parted lips, taking this opportunity to lick past them and feel your tongue with his. He presses his mouth against yours harder as your hands run down his broad chest.

You begin exploring his front side, your hands gliding from his chest to his stomach. He groans when you slide your hands down with added pressure to his lower stomach, he feels himself tense as he continues to kiss you. His tongue swirls against yours as your kissing becomes more heated and more sloppy. He wants to explore your front too, god, he wants to feel your tits in his hands so bad. So he slides his hands up until he’s groping you, your breasts being squeezed passionately by his large hands. You groan when his thumb finds your nipple through the material of your shirt and thin bra, he’s rubbing it over and over and you roll your eyes back.

“It was very sweet. Very pure.” Taehyung comments nonchalantly, sticking another piece of meat in his mouth.

“Yes, very.” You repeat with a giggle. “The island holds some very precious memories for me.” You begin, “Taehyung really became someone special, someone precious. He felt like the first real friend I had in a long, long time.”

“What are you friends like at home?” Mr. Kim asks and you feel yourself grow a little smaller, but it isn’t as bad as it used to be, you can admit.

“I don’t really have many…most of my friends were from my old job but that place was…toxic. I’m glad it’s behind me.” You say honestly. “I work a new job now and everyone seems really nice, I look forward to making new friends.”

“We hear you have an older sister! That must be nice!” Mrs. Kim reaches for a side dish, piles some on her plate. “And your parents must be so happy to have you home.”

“Ah, Ellie. She’s great.” You take a sip of your water, “She really takes care of me. And my parents were a little sad I finally moved back out and back to the city. But they’re also happy I am moving forward with my life.”

“How do they feel about you coming to Korea?”

“My mom isn’t the most supportive…but dad and Ellie are.”

“Why isn’t your mom—”

“Anyway,” Taehyung cuts off his mother, “y/n is excited about her new job and making new friends.

“Well, she can always make new friends here.” Taehyung’s mother gives both of you a knowing look. “The boys will surely like her.”

“Well, yeah…” Taehyung gets out awkwardly. “But she’s only here for a few weeks.”

“But eventually she will—”

“Mom.” Taehyung warns. “Not now.”

“Fine, fine! Anyway I prepared your photos from the island, should we show you our favorites?” She says excitedly. “There is one in particular that really just…oh my, let me just show you!” She stands from her chair and walks towards one of the counters, picking up a pile of photos.

“This one. This one is my favorite.”

It’s of you and Taehyung on the couch, you’re both laughing, leaning into one another spaces. Taehyung has got his hand on your upper thigh and your head is leaning into his chest. It looks like you two are so happy. Like you two never want to leave the island. And at the point you’re sure you never did.

“I like it too.” You say quietly. “We look so happy.”

“Yeah.” You can hear the smile in Taehyung’s voice. “Show us more.”

~

“Okay, it was nice to meet you both.” You bow your head towards his parents and they smile at one another before they look over at Taehyung.

“Taehyung…”

Then his parents are pulling him to the side and speaking to him in Korean, so you have no idea what’s being said. But Taehyung looks flushed, then he is waving them off.

“Ready to go?” he asks with a blush.

~

“Did you have a nice time?” Taehyung asks you, his hand in your hand as you two walk to the bus stop. “My parents like you.”

“Yes.” You smile shyly, “But also why wouldn’t they? I’m amazing.” You tease, trying to act more confident than you are. Maybe to trick yourself to be nicer to yourself.

“That’s right baby.” Taehyung grins down at you, “You are.”

Although things went really well…you still can’t help but feel anxious over everything. Like you are undeserving of kindness. They were so nice to you even though you’re the reason Taehyung went through a sad phase. But you are trying to accept their love even if it’s really hard.

The bus ride to the stop near his apartment only takes around 20 minutes, you feel yourself nodding off on the bus. You had a long day and the jet lag is definitely starting to take a toll on you.

“Sleepy babe?” Taehyung takes your head in his hand and guides it on his shoulder. “Sleep a little.” He kisses the top of your head and you feel yourself grow more and more sleepy.

Eventually, Taehyung is gently shaking you awake letting you know you two made it to your stop near his apartment. You both walk to his place, the night time air making you feel nice. It’s easier to breathe out here, it’s easier to trick yourself into breathing freely and feeling like you aren’t being totally suffocated.

You walk into the apartment and Taehyung decides to put on a movie. You change into some fresh panties and one of his long t shirts before you’re settling on the couch. Taehyung makes some hot chocolate for the both of you before he is pressing play on the movie.

You aren’t sure what movie this is, what it’s about or anything because you are so god damn tired. You lay down in Taehyung’s lap and eventually fall asleep.

Taehyung looks down at you and feels himself falling more and more in love. Just watching you sleep, he feels himself growing with affection for you. But it’s on his mind. What his parents said to him before you two left.

“She isn’t ready Taehyung…” His mom states plainly, “She will need a lot of time.”

“She does seem like a very good girl.” His dad adds in, “But we can tell how overwhelmed she is.”

Taehyung feels his entire face flush as he tries to gather his words.

“We are going to take it slow.” Taehyung says, “Really slow.”

“Don’t push her too much. We know how badly you want to be with her but it seems like she has some things to figure out before she can commit to you. Just remember that.”

Taehyung huffs out as he recalls their words because they’re right and he knows they are right. You aren’t ready and that’s just the truth. But he can’t give up. But he also can’t pressure you. Where is the balance? What is the balance?

He knows you are probably feeling very pressured right now, even just being in Korea. Did he make a mistake? No, he can’t think that way. He knows everything will turn out the way it’s supposed to.

Taehyung watches you sleep more than he watches the movie. He just wants you to be happy, to be comfortable. He lifts you off his body so he can lay down too, spooning you on the sofa. He decides to sleep with you tonight.

~~~~~

It’s Tuesday. Taehyung takes you around Seoul, you visit popular sites, eat good food, even do some shopping. It’s the evening now and you two are at some nice restaurant, you even have your own little room.

“Is this not a date?” You playfully ask. “Because it sure feels like one.”

Taehyung takes a moment to think before he is pouting, his bottom lip jut out so far you want to kiss it.

“It is.” He finally says, “But it’s not the first official first date like how Friday will be.”

“Jeez,” You sigh out, a small laugh leaving your lips. “How many unofficial first dates will we have?”

“A million, if we have to.” He teases, reaching over the table for a side dish. “Do you kiss on the first date, y/n?” he suddenly asks, making you blush.

“With you? I just might.” You respond back. “Do you?”

“With you? I definitely will.” He says cooly, “Just an innocent kiss though.” He looks up at you and smirks.

“Oh? Sweet and pure? Like what your parents think—”

“It was sweet and pure!” Taehyung whines, “The sweetest, purest kiss of my life.”

“Oh?” You raise a brow at him. “What the hell other kind of kisses you been having?”

“Nothing like yours baby.” He winks at you.

You playfully scoff at him, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“You like kissing me?” Your eyes find his again, “Tell me.”

“I love kissing you. One of my favorite activities.”

“What are your other favorite activities?” you lick your lips, his eyes fall down to them.

“They all include you but I don’t think that’s appropriate dinner conversation.”

“At least tell me one. Or maybe I can guess?” You scoot to his side of the table, your body getting closer and closer to his.

“You can guess.” He gulps as your hand lands on his thigh. “Guess.”

“I think you like when…” your hand slide up and down his upper thigh. “When I touch you.”

“You guess right.” Taehyung stares straight ahead as your hand travels up his thigh higher and higher.

“My hand is one thing, but I bet you like my lips the most?” You lean up and kiss the side of his neck.

“Y/n…” Taehyung says breathlessly. “Not here.”

“Why not?” you continue to kiss his neck, making Taehyung grow weaker with every kiss.

“I don’t deserve to be touched by you.” Taehyung whispers.

“Baby…” You kiss his neck again, “I forgive you.” You say in his ear. Taehyung slowly closes his eyes and starts to shake his head.

“You don’t. You can be upset with me however long it takes.” He says quietly but you aren’t having it. You lean back and grip his arm, urging him to look at you.

“Tae…I said I forgive you. You…I thought a lot about it and yeah, it doesn’t make me happy but also we weren’t in a place that I can actually be upset over it. I’m trying my hardest to be understanding. And I think in the end, it’s no one’s fault that you did what you did. And you said it means nothing to you—”

“Nothing! It really didn’t mean anything…” Taehyung cuts you off, his expression is troubled. He looks at you with wide, panicked eyes. “y/n…I really wish I could take it back. I regretted it so much.” His eyes begin to bubble over. “That night especially…I wasn’t myself, I was in a dark place, I missed you so much, I—”

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Your hand reaches up to rub his shoulder. “I know, baby.” You continue to rub his shoulder as soothingly as possible, getting him to calm down.

“You really forgive me?” he asks, his voice small.

“Yes Tae.” You lean into him, wrapping an arm around his waist. “I might still be a little bitter about it but I will try my best not to be. But overall, I forgive you. I know you regret it. I know the one you love is me…”

“Yes!” Taehyung basically shouts, “You’re the only one I love, I promise you.”

“I believe you.” You say, hugging him close. “This can be one thing we cross off our problems list.” You laugh. “I don’t want this to be a problem anymore.”

“Really baby?” He slips his arm over your shoulder, hugging you back.

“You deserve to be touched by me, Tae. Me and me only though.” You can’t help but chuckle.

“When we get home,” he breathes out, “I will let you touch me.”

“Okay.” You lean your head on his shoulder. “I can’t wait.”

~

“Fuck.” Taehyung groans. His hands go to your hair, he pulls at it making you moan all around his dick.

“You are art.” He grits out. Your tongue swirls over his tip before you take his cock further and further in your mouth. You have drool escaping the corner of your lips, your eyes are fogged up with lust and your cheeks are painted a lovely shade of pink. You truly do look like art.

“Take your time baby.” Taehyung moans, “We have all night.” You slowly lick up his length, getting it nice and wet. He moans for you, the low guttural sounds going straight to your pussy. You’ve missed this, missed him, missed his cock. Having him squirming beneath you feels so good as you make him feel amazing.

“I love your mouth…feels so good.” He watches as you bob your head up and down rather slowly. You suck his cock so well it makes him dizzy.

“You know how to make me feel good.” He finally closes his eyes as he just focuses on the feeling you give him. He focuses on your hands on his member, on his balls, he focuses on your tongue and how it licks him over and over. He focuses on your sounds, how you choke on his cock, how you moan for him.

Taehyung hates how close he is. But he hasn’t felt this amazing in months and months. He wishes he could have your lips wrapped around his cock for hours and hours, but he is losing control. He starts thrusting his hips upwards, desperate for more.

“Can I come down your throat? Will you swallow for me?” He pants.

You only moan around his length, the vibrations sending him over the edge. He feels himself go tense as he shoots his cum down your throat. You continue to fondle his balls, and suck on his tip as he finishes.

Taehyung whines out, throwing his head back as he comes down from his high. You swallow all his cum like you agreed to, the flavor lingering in your mouth. Tastes like him, tastes so good.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Taehyung moans, “How are you this good?”

“Let’s just say I was made for you.” You crawl up his body, Taehyung pulls you up by the arms and lays you down on his chest.

“You are, you definitely are.” He whispers, kissing the top of your head. “No one has ever made me feel like the way you do.”

“No one?”

“Just you my love.”

Explosions. Like, maybe something like fireworks go off in your chest. His new pet name for you makes you feel warm as fuck, and giddy too.

“I’m your love?” You try to pull your lips down, hiding this obvious smile.

“Of course, you are. Love of my life.” He states in a whisper. “I can’t see myself with anyone but you.”

“The feeling is mutual.” You respond sweetly. “The feeling is mutual.”

~~~~~

It’s Wednesday. You and Taehyung are just relaxing in his apartment today…you two plan on ordering take out for dinner and watching shows, playing games and just enjoying one another’s company.

“This feels a lot like one of our days on the island.” You say, leaning your head against Taehyung’s shoulder.

“Yeah, it does.”

For the first time, things feel like they never changed. You feel at home with Taehyung, you feel like everything is right, everything is perfect.

“Even being here on this sofa reminds me…”

The slow drag of Taehyung’s cock is enough for your vision to become blurry, almost like you are drunk. The couch isn’t the most comfortable place to have sex but you both were so fucking needy for the other…you don’t even care about being watched. Not even for a moment as intimate as this.

Taehyung brings his hands to either side of you and starts rolling his hips into you deeper and deeper, your eyes roll so far back into your head that all you can see is the whites. His cock reaches places you didn’t even know about, you never knew cock alone would make you feel this fucking good.

Dreamy. That’s you would describe this moment. His length brushes against you in ways that make “seeing stars” like a child’s phrase. You’re beyond seeing stars, you are seeing whole galaxies. The universe is in your eyes with the way he makes you feel.

Taehyung’s chest falls to your chest, his lips on your lips as he continues to grind his hips into yours in the most slow, sensual fucking of your life. Can this even be called fucking? This might be called making love.

You shake your head, trying to rid yourself of your steamy thoughts. Your whole face is red as you push back that memory. Taehyung knows though. He sees right through you.

“You’re thinking about the slow fuck, aren’t you?” He winks down at you. “When I fuck you again, it’ll be like that. But even better.”

“When?”

“When I just can’t take it.” He admits, “I have very little control left though.”

“I know it will be amazing.” You sigh out, “I can’t wait to feel that close with you again.” You murmur shyly, “Whenever you’re ready.”

“The more I look at you, the more I feel ready.” He says softly, making your heart skip a few beats.

~~~~

Thursday. You had a few days to gather courage but today you are feeling anxious all over again. You have already thrown up twice.

“Baby we can cancel.”

Today you are meeting Taehyung’s friends. Tonight, technically. But it’s only an hour before your meeting time and you are so overly anxious that you are physically sick.

“No, no.” You wave him off, “I’m just being a baby.”

“They’re the ones who said I should bring you back to Korea. No one is going to be mean to you, no one is going to make you feel unwelcome…well…no, no it’ll be fine.” Taehyung rubs your back.

“I know, I know.”

You were once not like this. But after everything that happened with your ex, with your old job and so on, you have become a nervous person. You know this is something you have to work through…

“But if it’s too much, we can cancel.” Taehyung offers again, you just shake your head and smile. He’s so loving, so supportive. What did you do to deserve someone as amazing as him? “No, I need to finish getting ready though.” You rise from the couch, “Will you help me pick something to wear?”

“You packed that green, flowy dress right?” Taehyung grins, “I love that dress on you. Wear that.”

“I was going to wear that tomorrow…for our date…”

“What about that new dress you bought on Tuesday? The red one?”

“Oh that’ll be a better date dress. Hm, okay. Green one tonight then.”

You walk into Taehyung’s bedroom, and take out the green dress. You slip it on over your body and examine yourself in the mirror, you look nice, you will admit.

“Beautiful.” Taehyung comes up behind you, circling his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. “So beautiful.” He then kisses the side of your neck, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror. “I can’t wait to show you off tonight.”

His hands begin massaging your hips, you slowly close your eyes from how good it feels. You grind yourself into Taehyung’s crotch and he immediately groans out.

“We have to leave soon.” Taehyung warns. “Don’t make me get you off.”

“Why can’t we both get off?” You whine, “Just fuck me already.” You continue throwing your ass back into his crotch.

“I think soon but not right now.” He smiles. His hands continue to massage you, he rolls your hips with the guidance of his hands. “Are you almost ready?”

“Hm. Yes.” You open your eyes and make contact with him in the mirror, “I’m really nervous, to be honest.”

“What can I do or say to make you feel comfortable?” Taehyung hugs you close.

“I don’t know…”

“I’ll try anyway.” He laughs, shoving his face in the crook of your neck. “You are amazing, you are funny, you’re fun to be around, you’re adorable, you’re sexy, my friends are going to love you! They are all so excited, I promise.”

“Okay, okay.” You giggle. “I’ll just have to believe you.”

“That’s all I ask.”

You both stare at one another in the mirror for a while, you feel like every moment that passes with his eyes on yours you are falling in love all over again. The time on the island counts but this is real life, this is reality. You have to learn to live with the fact that the island was just one part of your relationship. That this new phase is something worth working on.

“I love you Taehyung.”

Taehyung blinks at you in the reflection, he looks genuinely surprised by your words. He turns you around in his grasp, your face now facing him, just inches away.

“Tell me again.” He says softly. “Tell me you love me again.”

“I love you.” You repeat in a daze, your mind starting to fog up with affection for Taehyung.

“How much do you love me?”

“Enough that I will do anything if it means we will be happy together.”

“I love you too.” Taehyung whispers, pulling you closer to him. He tilts his head to the side as he leans into your space. His words hit your lips softly and you feel yourself melting, melting so much that Taehyung has to basically hold you up.

“How much do you love me?” You ask, a slight teasing tone. Your eyes half lidded as you stare up at him.

“Enough that I can’t wait until our first date.”

“Can’t wait for wh—”

Suddenly, Taehyung’s lips crash into your lips. He kisses you long and deep. His lips staying on yours for a life time, you feel your knees give out on you. Taehyung holds your body up as you finally start to kiss him back. Your lips move against his slowly, tenderly, with so much feeling, so much passion.

Your arms wrap around his neck as you push yourself closer to him, your chest coming flush against his. He starts to move his lips against yours a little harder now, a little more desperately, a little more with fire. Taehyung surprises you with the long, dragged out moan that leaves him as he kisses you. Like, this is the first time he has ever kissed you. Like, he has been waiting a life time to kiss you.

His lips part for you and you take the hint to slide your tongue between his lips, finding his tongue tangling with yours immediately. His hands explore your body frantically, they grip you in every place you could want him. Your lips, your tongue, everything tastes so sweet. He can die a happy man after finally kissing you.

You aren’t sure how much time has passed but Taehyung’s ringing phone indicates that maybe you two are late. Taehyung pulls away from you, his erratic breathing hard to calm. He reaches for his phone and answers it.

“Hello? Uh huh…okay….sorry, sorry. We will be there in a bit.’

You smooth down your hair in the mirror and fix your make up a little bit, then you turn around to face Taehyung again.

“Who was that?” you ask.

“It was Jimin, him and Namjoon are already there. We should get going.” He pulls you in and places a quick peck to your lips. “You ready?”

“Yes. How do I look?”

~~~~

“Gorgeous! You look so gorgeous!” Jimin gushes, he holds you at arm’s length and you look at Taehyung with confused eyes.

“Umm, thank you. You look…gorgeous too.” You admit shyly…well, he does. You didn’t think Jimin would be this beautiful!

“Oh my god, me? Thank you!” Jimin goes in to hug you again, “I thought you were so pretty but pictures do not do you justice girl.”

“Oh my god…thank you…” You laugh, “I knew I looked bad in some of those pics.” You joke.

“Wait that’s not what I meant!” Jimin can’t help but pout…”I meant—”

“Okay, okay,” Namjoon steps between you two, “I’m Namjoon, by the way. I’m not sure Jimin here was ever going to give me the opportunity to introduce myself.” He chuckles. You shake his hand and he grins at you.

“It’s so nice to meet y—”

“y/n!” You hear your name being called but you don’t recognize the voice, you glance over your shoulder to see two new bodies walking towards you.

“Hi—” But before you can continue talking you are being engulfed in a hug by one of the men.

“I’m Hobi!” he laughs into your shoulder, “I’m so happy to meet you!”

“Oooh.” You nod your head in understanding, you glance at the other man who just give you a small wave of the hand.

“I’m Yoongi.” He says with a smile. “We are uh, your new friends.” He looks down at the floor, his gummy smile not going unnoticed by you.

“Hi, nice to meet you both.” You feel yourself smiling, you feel your heart glowing. Everyone is being so nice, it’s refreshing.

“Okay, stop hugging her Hobi…” Taehyung deadpans. “Where’s Jin and Jungkook?”

“They were right behind us…” Yoongi comments, “They probably got caught up talking to someone on the way in.”

“Well, you know Jungkook. Probably a girl.” Jimin teases, “So should we grab a table?”

You all search for two tables and put them together, so you all have a place to sit. It’s around 9pm. So the bar is starting to get crowded, but it feels fun.

“What are you drinking baby?” Taehyung leans into you, “Want a mixed drink?”

“Yeah, surprise me.” You nod, “Something strong though.” You wink up at Taehyung and he grins down at you.

“Okay.” He leans in and finds your lips. You kiss him back quickly, feeling slightly embarrassed.

“You guys are so cute.” Jimin practically drools, “This is the first time we are seeing Taehyungie happy again.”

Guilt. But you’re trying, you are desperately trying to move past that feeling.

“It’s the first time since the island that I am this happy too.” You admit to Jimin. He leans into your space and smiles at you.

“You’re going to make Taehyung so happy, aren’t you?”

“I’ll try my best.” You giggle.

Taehyung comes back with two drinks, he hands one to you and you immediately gulp it back.

“Well, hello there friends.” A new voice. You look up to see who you assume is Jin and Jungkook.

“I am Jin, your new best friend.” He shakes your hand and you laugh. “This is Jungkook…” he gestures towards the other boy. Jin looks very happy to see you while….Jungkook does not, to put it simply.

“Hi Jungkook.” You wave at him and he only narrows his eyes at you, scoffs and looks away.

“Oh?” You raise a brow…finally, someone who is treating you the way you feel you deserve. Somehow this amuses you.

“Jungkook doesn’t want to be my new best friend?” You tease. You glance at Taehyung who looks tense but he immediately relaxes when he notices you taking this …rather well.

“Why?” Jungkook spits out, “So you can ghost me for 6 months?”

Ouch. But a well-deserved sting.

“Okay,” Taehyung stands to his feet and takes Jungkook by the arm and drags him off to the side so they can talk.

You watch, still amused. You don’t feel hurt by this…Jungkook is just being a good friend. Not that the others aren’t good friends but to be honest you expected this from at least one of them.

“If he doesn’t behave, just report to me and I’ll scold him.” Jin says playfully, “And if Taehyung does anything weird, you let me know and I will set him straight too.”

“I don’t like scolding Taehyungie…” Yoongi begins, “But I’ll do it.”

“Don’t count on me, everything Taehyung does is perfect in my eyes.” Jimin laughs, “I’m joking, I’m joking—”

“We aren’t so sure you are.” Namjoon cuts in. “But really y/n…this is the most we have seen Taehyung smile. It’s thanks to you.”

“It’s also my fault he….” Your eyes go to Taehyung who is still scolding Jungkook. “He—”

“It’s no ones fault!” Jimin claps his hands together. “Everything happened the way it did and now we can all move forward. Especially you y/n.” Jimin gives you a sweet smile, “Guilt is an ugly feeling. I would hate for you to be eaten alive by it when you don’t have to be.”

You feel your eyes sting with tears…you didn’t realize you needed an almost stranger tell you something like that…he’s a new friend right? You can call him a friend?

“Jimin…” You sniffle and he starts laughing loudly.

“Oh! Don’t get sad!” He leans in to hug you. “Let’s only make happy memories, okay?”

“The happiest.” Jin chimes in, “We’re all your friends now…and Jungkook will give in eventually.”

“Don’t worry too much about Jungkook…” Yoongi smiles, “He’s sort of the brat around here. You’ll get used to it.”

At this you laugh, you have heard stories. He is the youngest, after all.

“I’m not too concerned.” You admit under a few soft breaths, “It kind of feels good…getting what I deserve.”

“What are you? A Masochist?” Jimin frowns, “You deserve to be happy.”

“And I am…or, I will be. I’m getting there.”

“Okay, we are back!” Taehyung announces his and Jungkook’s presence. “And we are happy to be here, aren’t we Jungkook?” He says with his hand on the back of Jungkook’s neck.

“Totally.” Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Super happy to be here. Hi y/n.” he mutters underneath his breath. It’s cute actually.

“Hi Jungkook.” You giggle. “Want to take a shot with me?” you offer, standing up. Jungkook pinches his brows together then points to himself.

“With me?” he asks, clearly shocked.

“Yes, you.” You nod your head in the direction of the bar, “Coming?”

Taehyung looks over at you, also confused. But you just give him a smile that lets him know it’s okay.

“Sure…” Jungkook shrugs Taehyung off him, “If you’re buying.”

“What a brat.” Jimin laughs. “You should be buying her the drink, not the other way around.”

“No, no. I offered, I’ll buy.” You wink. You start walking towards the bar and Jungkook follows behind you.

You both walk up to the bar and you ask him to order for you, which he does. You both get handed two shots of some liquor and you raise your glass to clink it with his.

He eyes you curiously, wondering what your aim is here.

“Were you ever going to talk to him?” Jungkook finally says something.

“Taehyung believes I was going to…so yes. If he believes it then so do I.” you take your shot and Jungkook follows.

“I don’t like you.” Jungkook states plainly, “You made Taehyung really sad…”

“I know. I don’t think I like myself much either right now. But Jimin made me feel a little better…”

“Jimin will do that.” Jungkook sighs out. “But I still don’t like you.”

“You’re very cute Jungkook.” You reach up and ruffle his hair, you laugh out loud when you notice how red he has become. “You’re a good friend.”

“I-I-I…” He stutters out, feeling his blush hit him hard. “Whatever.” He looks off to the side. “Are you ready to go back or what?” he grumbles shyly.

You nod your head and you both walk back to your tables, Taehyung gives you a look of concern before you are smiling at him. A real life smile. And he relaxes.

“Hey baby.” He says, pulling out your chair for you to sit. “You didn’t grab another drink while you are up?” he asks, “I’ll go.” He stands, placing a kiss on your cheek and you nod gratefully.

“So what are we talking about?” You glance around the boys, “Anything interesting?”

“y/n! This is perfect, we can get a girls perspective.” Hobi smiles at you, “Yoongi has this girl he likes, right?” At this Yoongi groans, throwing his head back in annoyance. “But he won’t ask her out!”

“And how can I help?” You laugh.

“Well,” Jimin joins in, “We don’t know how this girl feels. So listen, listen.” Jimin puts a hand on your shoulder as he speaks, “She kissed him one time but hasn’t initiated anything since!”

“Oh…” you give Yoongi a look of pity and he starts laughing.

“I knew it.” Yoongi slaps his knee, “She isn’t into me guys.”

“Didn’t I say that?” Jin asks and Namjoon swats his arm. “What? It’s true. She is kissing on random guys all the time, I think you just happened to be one of them.”

“No!” Hobi cuts in, “Listen to this though! She asked for him last weekend, wondering where he was at…like, she missed his attention or whatever.”

“His attention or him?” you ask with a pointed look.

“Exactly.” Namjoon says, “We have to be sure if its him she wants and not his lips.” He starts making kissy faces and you all start laughing.

“Well, if she out tonight?” you ask, “Maybe I need to watch your interactions with her to be sure.”

“Wow, you can be a wing woman.” Hobi says with stars in his eyes.

“Oh my god yes a wing woman.” Jimin says with stars in his eyes as well.

“I’m not saying I will be much help!” You giggle, but the boys wave you off, still excited about having a wing woman.

“You’ll really help y/n?” Yoongi asks quietly. “You don’t have to.”

“Of course I’ll help…well, to the best of my abilities.”

“What did I miss?” Taehyung comes to the table, setting your drinks down. He takes a seat next to you.

“y/n is apparently all of our wing woman now.” Jungkook says nonchalantly.

“Psshh, like you need a wing woman.” Jimin teases, “You get girls just by being in the same room as them.”

“Stop trying to make my girlfriend do work when she just got here.” Taehyung pouts, “Don’t overwhelm her.”

“No, it’s nice.” You admit with a blush. “Feels like I have friends.” You say as quietly as possible to where only Taehyung can catch what you are saying. “We are your friends.” You hear Jimin whisper to you as he leans into your space. “Don’t ever doubt that.” Oh. You guess with Jimin next to you he was bound to hear.

“Thanks Jimin…”

Hours and hours pass, drinks are going down like crazy. Everyone is having so much fun it is ridiculous. You haven’t laughed this much probably ever in your life!

You feel yourself growing closer and closer with the boys, especially now that you are all drunk.

“Oh my god, I fucking love you!” Jimin laughs with his whole body, he practically falls out of his chair. “You told him his painting of you looked like a frog!” he snorts.

“Someone had to be honest about his human portraits, I suppose.” Namjoon laughs as well. “But a frog? You’re savage.”

“I thought his painting of the 7 of us was really….special.” Yoongi adds, “But I wouldn’t say we looked like frogs.”

“Oh, he made me look like a god damn frog.” You giggle. “I told him to burn it.”

“And did he?” Hobi asks.

“No, we kept it for the memories…” Then your face lights up. “By the way Tae…”

“Hm?” Taehyung smiles for you, “What is it?”

“Do you have the painting? They left us with a box of stuff right? Things from the island but I didn’t have the painting,”

“Yeah, I have it.” He nibbles on his bottom lip, “Maybe one day when we live together we can put it up…and then one you did of me as well.” He slurs.

“One day.” You grin.

“Oh my god, y/n.” Jimin whines, “You have to move here!”

The rest of the boys start clapping and agreeing, nodding their heads along.

“Wouldn’t that be a culture shock?” Jungkook speaks up, “She doesn’t even speak Korean.”

“Yeah, it would be.” You admit shyly. “But there’s time to think about all of that.”

Taehyung reaches for your hand and squeezes it.

“Yeah.” He agrees.

Jimin slumps his shoulders but smiles for you both anyway. Hobi stands up and offers his hand to you, you look at him quizzically.

“Want to dance?” He asks, “All of us of course, but you’re the lady. So I asked formerly. I don’t know I’m drunk.”

You can’t help but chuckle.

“Yes, let’s all dance!”

You all head to the dance floor, the music is loud and drowning out any and all worries you had about tonight.

“Having fun?” Taehyung brings you in, your back against his chest as he whispers in your ear.

“Time of my life.” You slur out honestly. “I can’t thank you enough for…”

“For what baby?”

“For showing me your world.”

“It can be our world…” He places a kiss on your neck. “One day.”

“I want any world as long as you are in it.” You say breathlessly. “I like your friends a lot.” You tell him and he grins into your neck.

“They’re the best and they will treat you right.” He breathes you in, “I trust them with my life, they’re like brothers.”

“I can tell. They’re a good group of dudes.”

“I can tell they like you too.” He sighs into your hair, “But I like you the most.”

You grind your ass into his crotch in beat with the music, his hands travel all over the front of your body. You two dance like this for a while when a feminine voice cuts through the sound of the music. You and Taehyung both snap your heads in the direction of the voice when you see a girl standing here, her hands on her hips and a look of disappointment on her face.

“Taehyung?” She says, his name sounds wrong on her tongue. This can only be who you think it is.

“Oh hey.” Taehyung awkwardly smiles, “What’s up?”

“Who’s this?” she asks, looking in your direction but she doesn’t look at you directly.

You don’t want to feel intimidated but it’s her. It’s Hana. She is even prettier in person. She’s got two friends with her, but they are talking to the boys.

“This is—”

“I’m y/n.” you say as confidently as possible.

“My girlfriend.” Taehyung says, he reaches for your hand and squeezes it. “y/n this is Hana.”

“Oh, nice to meet you.” You smile, and she scoffs. Fucking scoffs.

“………..” she says in Taehyung’s direction but you have no idea what she said since it was in Korean.

You stand here awkwardly, swaying from side to side as Taehyung talks to her…you wish you knew what they were saying. But you’re almost too drunk to care.

“Excuse us!” you smile, with Taehyung’s hand in yours you drag him to the bar leaving Hana behind.

“y/n.” Taehyung sighs out, “She was just—”

“Huh? It’s fine, Tae. I just wanted a drink and to be spending less time with her and more time with you.”

Taehyung can’t help the smirk that his lips curve into. He grabs you by the hips, pulls you in for a hug then leans away to look at you.

“You’re so fucking sexy.” He says before leaning in to kiss you. His tongue prodding its way into your mouth, you moan out loud and swirl your tongue with his. Your kisses are rushed, sloppy and messy. And drunken as fuck.

“You guys are so hot.” Jimin whines as he walk up to you two, ordering his own drink.

You pull away from Taehyung and start laughing.

“Get two more of what you just got.” Taehyung smiles, “On me.”

“Oh hell yeah.” Jimin cheers. Then he is ordering two more drinks as Taehyung slides his card over the bar top.

“I saw you guys talking to Hana…” Jimin whispers to you, “How was that?”

“Don’t care.” You shrug, “She didn’t look very happy to see me though.”

“She was hopeful…” Jimin admits, “That she could get Taehyung to fall in love with her. She had been trying for a long time…then he disappears for 8 months and is in love with someone else. She tried to be understanding but it was still hard on her.”

“But it doesn’t matter,” Taehyung butts in with the drinks, “Because I told her you’re my girlfriend and the one I love so…”

“I know, Tae.” You smile, “I may not understand Korean but I got that much.” You laugh.

Jimin joins you in your giggles as he chugs the entire drink in one go.

“y/n!!” Yoongi stumbles over, “She’s here! She’s here! I need you my wing woman!”

Your eyes crinkle from how hard you are cheesing. You lean up to kiss Taehyung on the lips before walking towards Yoongi and following him to wherever he’s hanging out.

It’s a perfect night so far.

~

“Hold my hand.” Taehyung slurs with a pout on his lips. “Want to feel you, want to touch you, want to fu—”

“Want to what now?” You laugh into your palm, as you reach for Taehyung’s hand. He holds you close to him as you two walk back to his apartment, his body swaying into yours and yours into his.

“Fuck…I want to fuck you.” He whispers in your ear before he bursts out laughing for no drunken reason.

“I’d let you baby. But sober you would be mad at drunk you.” You slur out yourself, “I know how important waiting is for you.”

“You don’t get it…I don’t want to wait anymore.”

“You’re just drunk.”

“I am drunk but babe, I’m serious.” He tries to give you a straight face. “I feel overwhelmed with love for you.”

You feel your heart doing flips in your chest, you feel butterflies in your stomach and you feel your head going dizzy with affection.

“Really?”

“It went really well tonight.” Taehyung says, “So well that I have decided you are definitely my perfect match and that company did me the biggest favor because how else would I have met you?”

Usually the mention of the company would make you sad or anxious but somehow you feel grateful too.

“Tae…” you squeeze his hand, “My soulmate.” You bump your shoulder into his side.

“We are fucking soulmates.” He says, then he yells it out for the whole street to hear then he’s laughing deeply.

“Fucking soulmates.” He repeats just loud enough for only you to hear.

You two finally get to his apartment, you stumble in and plop yourselves down on the couch. Taehyung pulls you into his lap and starts kissing your neck, your collarbone, you shoulder. His lips devouring every free piece of skin he can find.

“Taehyung…” you moan, “Let’s wait until we are sober.” You breathe out roughly.

Taehyung continues kissing your skin and hums an ‘okay’. He lifts himself off you and gazes into your eyes.

“I will stay awake until I sober up. Until you sober up. Then I am going to make love to you. I am going to fuck you with so much fucking love you will be coming all around my cock time after time. You ready for that baby? You ready to have my cock coming inside you?”

You can’t help but gulp as you blink at him, then you are slowly nodding your head.

“Then let’s drink some water and make out until this room is no longer spinning. We aren’t sleeping tonight.” Taehyung warns in a deep, deep voice.

“We’re really staying awake until we sober up?” you laugh. “Aren’t you afraid we will fall asleep?”

“Baby, knowing that I get to fuck you in a few hours is all the motivation I need to stay awake. I believe you are the same. I know you are desperate for my cock. Desperate for me.”

And you are, you fucking are.