#have I already mentioned that I’m hopelessly in love with his laughter

[nicoscheer]

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[eternalguk]

All Yours || jjk. (M)

Your love is a secret I'm hoping, dreaming, dying to keep.

↠ Pairing : Jungkook x Reader

↠ Summary : Your love for Jungkook was a quiet emotion. He was the oxygen you needed to breathe. In his kisses, you found sincerity. In his embrace, you discovered your heartbeat. And in his love, you found your eternal home.

↠ Genre : established relationship au, slice of life au, comfort au, boyfriend!jk & teacher!reader, pwp (teeny tiny angst, fluff & smut)

↠ Word count : 6.3k

↠ Warnings : allusions to sadness / anxiety, oc hating her job, oc is an overthinker, brief mention of taehyung, unprotected sex, female oral, fingering, breast play, making out, reader squirts, pet names, softdom!jk, praise kink and they’re both just hopelessly in love with e/o.

↠ A/n : hi everyone, it’s nice to meet you 🤍 here is a soft Jungkook fic that I have written as a form of closure for something. I hope you enjoy this short musing and can also find comfort from this. Your feedback is always appreciated and I would love to get to know you! Happy reading 🦢.

↠ Song : Chariot - Jacob Lee.

Work.

The word itself sent a chill down your spine and made your throat feel stuck. What field of work does your job fall into, you wondered as you stepped outside the building.

Am I a babysitter? A therapist? A cleaner? An administrator? A parent? Everyday, as you walk towards your car, the same thoughts fill your brain as you keep your eyes from closing.

A teacher.

All those jobs fell into one category and that was being a teacher.

You loved your job, you really did. But it was finally beginning to catch up to you and burn you out. 

As you put your students’ exercise books into your car, your phone rings. A sigh escapes your lips as you curse whoever is calling you at the moment your brain is shutting down.

A small smile forms on your face as you read the caller id. 

Jungkook.

You answer immediately, your tense body visibly relaxing.

“Jagi? Hello?”

You listen to his voice, eyes beginning to tear up as you realise how much you’ve missed him.

“Guk!” you say brightly, hoping to mask the tiredness laced all round you.

“You’ve not replied all day, I’ve been waiting!” He begins. You already know what’s coming next.

“I told you to message me at break, lunch and to leave as soon as the bell rings for the end of the day. You’ve stayed behind again!”

“Mhmm”

“Do I need to come collect you myself? Keep the car at home, huh?” He scolds, but you know his intentions simply mean well for you. What did you do to deserve a loving boyfriend like him?

“I’m sitting into the car now to head home; I’ll be back in no time. I was on detention duty.” You reply, skin crawling at the remembrance of you waiting for the students to leave.

“Be quick babe, I’ll get your food ready.”

“Okay, my love.” You smile again, counting down the minutes until you see your boyfriend.

“Love you,” he whispers. You imagine the grin playing on his lips.

“Love you more,” you respond, switching your car on as he cuts the call.

Comfort. Delight. Jungkook.

As you step through the threshold of your home, a sense of warmth and comfort immediately envelops you. The cosy ambiance welcomes you like an old friend, with soft lighting casting gentle glows across the hallway. The scent of freshly made cookies mingles with the familiar aroma of your favourite scented candles, creating an atmosphere of tranquillity.

He truly knows how to bring a smile to your face.

Every corner is adorned with personal touches, from cherished photographs of you and Jungkook, to carefully selected décor that reflects your unique styles. As you move through the space, you can't help but feel grateful for the haven you have created with Jungkook, where you both have cultivated a sanctuary that feels like an extension of yourselves.

Here, amidst the walls that hold your shared memories and the echoes of your laughter, you have crafted the perfect safe space where you can be yourselves, finding solace and serenity in one another's presence.

Smiling, you head into your main living space, waiting to see the only person who puts your busy mind at ease.

Jungkook stands with his back to you. Bam, your playful dog, next to him.

You admire Jungkook staring out the window, lost in the rhythmic percussion of the rain that briskly falls outside. His eyes are steady to each drop, face aglow with the orange rays that spill from the lamp before him. His lips bear the semblance of a smile, just enough to show that he is enjoying his thoughts, whatever they may be. You move closer to him, hoping he’d feel your presence, yet you stay quiet, allowing him to stay lost in the moment a little while longer.

“You got home fast?” A quiet whisper breaks the silence as a hand reaches out to you, beckoning you to come closer. Nuzzling into your boyfriend, you reply a quick, “mhm,” before reaching up to peck his cheek and resting your own against his bare shoulder.

“And you’re half-naked?” You tease, brushing your nose against his soft skin. Jungkook had evidently just showered, his typical body lotion filling your nose. You’d always tell him how you dislike his lotion, and so he’d use exactly that one.

“That’s what love is,” he’d always say.

“Long day?”

“Long week,” you sigh, removing your shoes at the same time and dropping your bag. You mentally thank the fact that you missed the rain by a millisecond. Having soaked clothes and books would’ve definitely made your day worse.

“Wanna talk about it?” Jungkook prompts, his husky voice already washing you with calmness. You shake your head, “no,” simply wanting to relish in the comforting ambience that occupied your home.

Minutes pass as you both watch the March rain. The day really had slipped away into a moment of time, as if it had never really been yours in the first place.

“And here is your lasagna, my love. Made by yours truly.” Jungkook smiles, placing a bowl of warmth before you.

As Jungkook places the steaming bowl of lasagna in front of you, its aroma fills the air. He settles across from you, a grin playing on his lips, but you notice there’s no bowl for himself.

"Where's yours?" you inquire, already sensing the answer.

With a nonchalant shrug, Jungkook replies, "Already had mine." 

You roll your eyes, a playful scowl crossing your face. "That's one thing I hate about you," you jest, though there's a hint of annoyance in your tone.

He chuckles, undeterred. "It's not like I can't eat again." With that, he rises to retrieve a modest portion of lasagna for himself.

As you both dig into the savoury dish made by your boyfriend, conversation flows effortlessly. "Shall I ask about work?" Jungkook inquires, breaking the comfortable silence.

You sigh, swirling your fork in the layers of cheese and pasta. "I'm really considering handing in my notice," you confess, contemplating a change to a quieter job.

Jungkook nods understandingly, his eyes reflecting empathy. "You could do with a break," he agrees, his voice gentle. "You know, my dad really liked those jewellery designs you sketched. Come work with us. Plus, I’ll get to see more of you," he adds with a playful smirk.

You laugh, shaking your head. "You just want to fulfil your dreams of office sex," you tease, with a fondness in your tone.

He raises an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Hey, don't call me out so soon," he retorts with a smirk, winking at you.

Shifting the conversation, you inquire about his own work, wondering if he felt more settled today with his dad.

“Yeah, I'm enjoying the creative freedom,” Jungkook replies, a sense of satisfaction evident in his voice. You knew he had troubles voicing his ideas, but with encouragement from you, he finally felt confident enough to show his father.

Curious about his recent photography bookings, you ask about any upcoming weddings.

Jungkook's face lights up with a grin. "Yes, Sunmi recommended me to a friend," he reveals proudly.

The joy you felt knowing Jungkook was still able to balance his passion with work was something inexplicable.

"We need to invite her and Namjoon over for lunch," you suggest, already picturing the lively gathering.

Agreeing wholeheartedly, Jungkook nods as you both continue to savour the lasagna and each other's company, content in the warmth of shared moments and future plans.

Breaking the comfortable silence, Jungkook clears his throat, drawing your attention. "Guess who reached out to me earlier today," he announces, a hint of excitement, but shock in his voice.

Curiosity piqued, you inquire, "Who?"

Jungkook's eyes light up as he responds, "Taehyung hyung." 

You offer a polite smile. "Ah, that's nice," you remark, though a subtle tension settles over you.

"He's back in town next weekend with, you know who," Jungkook continues, sensing your unease but pressing on gently.

Your grip tightens slightly on your utensils, but you nod, silently signalling for him to continue.

"He wanted to see us," Jungkook reveals. "I said I'll check with you."

Before you can even apologise for your hesitation, Jungkook reaches over, gently clasping your hand. "Never apologise," he insists, his voice firm yet comforting. "We'll do whatever makes you feel comfortable."

You exhale softly, grateful for his understanding. "I really don't mind him," you confess, your words tinged with resignation. "It's been years, and I've moved on. But being in his presence brings everything back, and I don't feel happy with that."

Jungkook nods in understanding, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand. "We can cross that bridge when we come to it," he reassures, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

Feeling a wave of gratitude, you offer a small smile before suggesting, "I'll wash the dishes."

Jungkook nods, his expression softening. "I'll go edit some photos," he offers, rising from his seat.

With a silent understanding, you both retreat to your respective tasks, the air filled with unspoken reassurances and a shared commitment to each other's comfort.

Jungkook hoists you onto the counter effortlessly, gently slotting himself between your parted legs. With a quick peck to your lips, he reaches behind you to grab your cleanser, pumping it twice into his hands.

“I’ll put on some soft music, light a candle,” he begins, lathering the cleanser between his fingertips before doing his best to apply it to your face, “and then I’ll cuddle you until you fall asleep.” 

You simply nod, the sight of Jungkook concentrating on not getting the cleaner in your hair distracting you. 

“Why do you do this for me?” You whisper, genuine curiosity taking over you as you come to terms with just how delicately Jungkook has tended to you not just today, but everyday. Everyday for the past 6 years. The feeling felt foreign but comforting all at the same time.

You weren’t used to someone taking care of you, and as Jungkook dampens a face towel to smoothly remove the product from your face, you realise once again how lucky you are to have him.

“Because you deserve this, angel.” He pauses, grabbing a cotton pad and your almost finished toner. “You deserve to know that you’re also a priority.”

You melt at his words, leaning forward to gingerly press a kiss against his nose. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

You aid Jungkook in finishing your skincare routine which he confidently completes. An intimate silence envelops you and Jungkook thankfully doesn’t pierce it. You didn’t quite feel like speaking right now, your mind being loud enough. 

What would it be like to see Taehyung? Should you say yes? Should you say no? It’s not fair on Jungkook. It’s not fair on you.

“Stop thinking about seeing hyung, Jagi.” Jungkook scolds, offering you a cheeky smile at the same time.

“I hope you know that there’s no fee-”

“I know; I trust you.”

“But-”

“And you trust me.” 

He swiftly lifts you from the counter, and you cling to him like a koala as he carries you to your bedroom. Upon entering, a gentle breeze hits your bare legs which makes you cling to Jungkook stronger, eliciting a small chuckle from the man.

Softly, he lies you on the mattress before joining you underneath the crisp duvet.

“Sing to me,” you whisper as Jungkook pulls you onto his bare chest. You nuzzle into him, basking in the warmth he holds.

“I was thinking something else,” he whispers and he moves you closer.

“And what would that be, Mr. Jeon?” You feign innocence, knowing exactly what is brewing in Jungkook’s mind.

“I’ll just show you, soon-to-be Mrs. Jeon.” He smirks, leaning forward to peck a kiss on your lips.

As the moonlight streamed through the lace curtains, illuminating the room with a soft golden glow, you couldn't contain the flutter of excitement in your heart. The thought of marrying Jungkook filled you with a warmth that spread from the tips of your toes to the depths of your soul.

You imagined the way his eyes would sparkle with joy as you exchanged vows, and the gentle touch of his hand reassuring yours. You couldn't help but smile, knowing that your love was the greatest adventure of all.

“Hey, dreamer. Wakey wakey.” Jungkook laughs, shaking you out of your daydreams.

Dreamer.

A few years ago you wouldn’t have ever imagined having another nickname, but here you were, loving this one the most. Where does time go?

“Jungkook, my love?”

“Yes, baby?”

“Show me, please.”

With that,  Jungkook cups your cheek and moves forward to rub your noses together as his long, slender thumb caresses your blushed cheek.

In the room that is now twilight and shadow, Jungkook lies close enough for you to breathe in his alluring scent. His arms wrap around your back, and in one gentle pull, he is hovering above you, and your skin touches his. You feel his hand in your hair, how he loves the softness, watching it tumble as he releases it. His hand then moves down from your cheekbones to your lips.

“Kiss me, Y/N.” Jungkook requests with his husky voice and you don’t need to be told twice, reaching upwards to sync your lips together. The two of you move like partners in a dance that is written in your DNA. Your bodies fit together as if you were made just for this, to fall into one another, to feel this natural rhythm. 

Jungkook’s hands are all over you with a vehement urgency, removing the black vest top you had worn to bed. You pull back to admire him, moving his hair out of the way so you can see his beautiful eyes. With a laugh, he brings his face closer to yours, rubbing your noses together, letting your giggles echo inside his safety cocoon. You lock eyes for just a moment, just enough for you to feel safe with one another.

“My prettiest angel.” he whispers in your ear.

And then the heated kissing starts again.

Jungkook showers you with kisses, each one different from the last. He pulls you closer to him by your waist as he lets his hands roam your body freely. Jungkook bends down, brushing his lips gingerly over your cheek.

Despite it being a light touch, he still manages to send euphoric sensations through your nerves, making you shiver. The control this man has over you through the subtlest forms of love, is something you still cannot encapsulate.

“If you want us to stop, tell me now.”

You remain silent as he brushes his lips against your temple.

“Or now.” he mutters as he traces the line of your cheekbone with his index finger.

“Or-”

You reach up to interrupt him, pulling him down to collide your lips together, the rest of his words lost against your mouth. Jungkook kisses you gently, carefully as if you were made of porcelain and would break easily. And that’s exactly what you love about Jungkook.. how tender he is with you. How he always makes sure you’re comfortable enough to proceed.

You knot your fist in his hair, pulling Jungkook against you harder. After waiting for so long, a gentle kiss was not going to satisfy your needs. He groans softly, low in his throat, and his arms circle you, gathering you closer against him all whilst beginning to remove the remaining articles of unnecessary clothing that adorn the two of you.

Jungkook’s tongue licks a long stripe down your neck as his fingertips are whisked away in your hair. He holds the back of your head gently in place as he decorates your skin with deep purple stains of ardent worship, as though you’re his canvas. You hug him close to your throat and your naked breasts rest against his bare chest as you grind yourself up against him. Jungkook cups your face, bringing you to face the deep pink hues of his swollen lips as he presses a searing kiss that has you groaning into his mouth. Jungkook indulgently hums into the kiss, the sheets becoming messier as he leans forward, moving himself against you.

You mouth at him sensually as he tightens his grip on your torso, being sure to dote on each part of your skin he roams. He traces his finger down your chest, his lips following shortly after as he cherishes each inch of your skin. He stops at your breasts, breathing deeply on the already hardened nipples. You tug at his soft tresses as he groans against your nipples, before he begins kissing from the valley of your breasts.

“God, I love your tits.” He sighs out as he shifts towards your nipple, taking the hardened peak into his hot mouth. You arch against him, moaning pleasurably as you massage his scalp. It had been so long since you and Jungkook had time to be this close… this intimate.

Hearing you moan so audibly has Jungkook smirking against your soft skin, your reaction spurring him on. The way he was prodding at your nipple with his sinful tongue had you so utterly lost in his ministrations. He was sure to fondle your neglected breast, bringing his hand up to knead it. The pressure of his skillful tongue and the softness of his palm had you sighing out in bliss. Your moans filled the dimly lit room as you writhed underneath the man providing you with utmost pleasure, realising that this is just the beginning of his ministrations.

You pull Jungkook back against your lips, crashing them together once again. His slightly rough stubble rubbed against your skin in the most delicious way, far from uncomfortable. Jungkook cinched you further into him as he felt the silken strands of your hair. Stopping the soft assault against your mouth, he pulled back.

“I love you Jagi. I really do.”

You stared back at him, swollen lips, messy hair and watery eyes. Jungkook looked down at you through heavy lidded eyes, eagerly needing a response.

“I love you more, baby.” You whisper as you reach up to press a kiss between his brows. Your pussy clenches as your eyes are drawn down to his thick erection. The heat in your gut is only gushing more. You hear Jungkook click his tongue as he palms at himself in order to distract you from it.

You reach forward to grab, but Jungkook stops you before you can even do so. A simple shake of his head gives you the answer you were certainly not looking for. He can’t help but feel proud knowing that despite you both being together for so long, despite you both being in this position frequently, you still always managed to become amazed by the size of his length and what he could do with it.

But today? Today the air around you both is filled with a sense of shyness. It most definitely isn’t the first time for you both, but you’re so nervous you’d never know it. There’s something about Jungkook that lights you up from the inside. And something about you which melts all of Jungkook’s confidence to nothing at all. Touching him is like being handed the holy grail. Almost as if your heart is mended each time you are together even though you never knew it was broken.

Your eyes meet Jungkook’s again and your heartbeat increases. He stares at you with deep respect and adoration, it almost hurts. No one had ever paid this much attention to you before Jungkook. No one had loved you like this. No one had celebrated you in this manner. Jungkook changed that. He stayed with you in your quietness and kissed the scars you hid from others. He is your greatest and rarest treasure. A blessing that brought you inner peace.

Jungkook’s hand that lies on your waist gradually makes its way down to your hip, stopping at the very border of it. 

“If I may?” He reaches forward and whispers before nibbling on your ear.

You nod and that was all the consent Jungkook needed. He has you far too riled up for you to even consider stopping his ministrations. 

“I’m going to show you how much I love you.” He pauses. “Going to show my angel how happy she makes me.” He breathed out.

“Guk-”

His actions interrupt you as he leans forward to suck on the sweet spot right behind your ear. You inhale sharply and he uses this opportunity to trail his hand down further. Jungkook himself may have been shy, but his doings were far from it. You felt yourself heat up as his fingers reached your nether lips, caressing the soft and soaked area.

“Always so wet for me, aren’t you, Y/N?”

The use of your name had you clenching your pussy, which wasn’t missed by Jungkook. He smirks against the temple of your head, mentally giving himself a pat on the back. 

“Is my baby feeling shy?” He playfully teases as he faintly  brushes over your clit, refusing any direct contact with the place you need him the most. Jungkook’s other hand grabbed the back of your thigh, bringing it to rest at his waist, granting him the further access he needs. He presses himself closer to you, gently rubbing over your clit. His touch ignites something deep in your senses, you grind into his hand wanting more.

“I don’t want to play too much today.” He simply voices as he pulls his hand away. You whine underneath him, dissatisfied at the loss of his hands. Jungkook’s quick to make that disappear as he lifts your thighs over his shoulders, letting them rest there delicately. You slightly relax, knowing what’s coming next. 

Jungkook slides to rest on his lean stomach as he begins to kiss from your ankle upwards, his hand always just a little higher than the gentle kisses he presses everywhere. You feel your back arch in anticipation knowing where his sinful mouth will reach soon. Your head rocks back as he inches towards your core, ready to moan his name as he devours you wholly.

Jungkook breathes against your soaked folds making you quiver with arousal. He massages the inside of your thighs, attempting to calm your nerves. “Always so pretty for me.” He praises before reaching forward to press a kiss against your clit, making you shudder with  sensitivity. 

“You’ve missed this, haven’t you my love? Missed having my tongue all over your messy cunt? He asks as you run your fingers through his dark locks, tightening the grip on his scalp. You arch your hips into his eager mouth, striving to gain some form of contact. 

“Please.. Jungkook, please.” You breathlessly moan out, patience being a virtue you can no longer abide by. Jungkook gives in to your pleading, knowing that he too, needs to have a taste. Needs to subdue the longing of being deep within you.

Jungkook uses the tip of his tongue to lightly trace your nether lips. You squirm underneath him, moaning his name needily as you try to chase more of his tongue. Jungkook feels turned on seeing you lost in the clouds of ecstasy despite him doing so little. 

“Guk… please, I need more.” You impatiently whine, trying to provoke further action. And so he does. He finally accepts that he’s perhaps tortured you a little too long now. “If it’s too much, princess, be sure to tell me.” is all he musters as he licks a long stripe from your entrance to your clit. He allows himself to latch onto your quivering cunt, sucking on your labia and making out with it to his heart’s content. 

He buries himself further as he skims with his lips, gathering all your wetness on his tongue as you mewl at the orgasmic sensations he provides. He grants you no mercy as he uses his masterful tongue to eat you up. Jungkook had missed this deeply. Missed seeing you lost in the throes of pleasure with not a single care in the world.

You buck your hips closer to his face, begging for more through your actions. Jungkook flattens his tongue against your cunt, sucking greedily on the pulsing bud, groaning at the sweet flavour he had so dearly missed. 

“Oh god, Jungkook please. I- I need more!” You give up trying to be quiet, chasing your high being your main priority at the moment.

“Baby wants more?” Jungkook smirks against you before he repeatedly licks up your slit, lapping at you shamelessly. Jungkook takes you by surprise as he sinks two of his long fingers into your leaking pussy. He curls them at the right spot and you whimper out loudly, gripping his hair tighter, not even considering the pain it could cause him.

“Jungkook.. Kook.. You can’t just..” You attempt to mutter out, but the excitement of reaching your high overtakes you and you moan his name instead. He pushes them in and out of you fast and hard whilst teasingly slurping at your juices. You know Jungkook is keen to make you come, and he knows he’s reaching his goal by the way your brows furrow and how you haven’t stopped biting your lips.

“Almost there.. aren’t you, angel?”

“Mmm, Guk, please. Please!” You have no clue what you’re begging for, crying out lustily. 

“My baby is so gorgeous. So beautiful for me. My good girl.” Jungkook coos at you, the praises making you need more. Jungkook closes his lips around your clit and sucks it hard as his fingers relentlessly fuck into you. You arch and attempt to push his fingers out. Jungkook understands what you need without words and withdraws them from deep within, instead harshly rubbing at your clit in regular motions, watching you squirt on his tongue and gush all over the sheets.

You mewl distinctly as Jungkook groans at the sight of the mess in front of him. You’re panting hard as he encourages you to continue releasing all your cum. 

“All of this for me, jagi? Come on, show me how much more there is. Show me how good I make you feel.” 

You gasp and twitch from the oversensitivity of Jungkook’s ministrations as he rushes to hover above you, pressing gentle kisses to your face and wiping the tears which had formed.  Jungkook praises you and you don’t fail to blush at his devotion, feeling a sense of pride wash over yourself as he repeatedly refers to you as his good girl. 

“Thank you.” you mutter as you reach to latch your lips onto Jungkook’s, him shaking his head no as he brushes the drenched tendrils of hair from your face. A gentle smile adorns his face as he whispers back an “Always” making you feel flustered all over again. You notice Jungkook looking a little too calm and peer down once again at his painfully hard cock. 

“Let me jus-”

Once again, Jungkook interrupts you as he grabs your hand, stopping it from reaching its desired destination.

“Not today, jagi. I don’t need your hand today.”

“Hmm?” You mutter, confusion written over your face. 

“I just…”

“You just?”

“I just want to make love to my princess.” Jungkook whispers against your lips as he presses his hard length against your soaked core, casting it against your slickness making you whine again. 

Jungkook kisses you so gently, so tenderly, you feel the grand amount of love he has for you through the simple movements of his lips against yours. The two of you continue to make out languidly, the moonlight spilling from your sheer curtains illuminating your surroundings, making it all the more intimate. All the more magical.

He leans forward pressing careful kisses to your bare shoulder up to your ear. 

“I want to make love to you, Y/N. I want to show you how loved you are.”

You bring your dainty hands to rest against his bare chest as he moves to rub your noses together. 

“I want to feel you, Jungkook. I need you.”

And that small whisper is all Jungkook needs as he wraps your legs around his waist and lines himself up against your entrance. Jungkook glances down at where your bodies are soon to connect and smiles as he prods your wet and desperate flesh with his tip. 

“Is this okay, jagi?” He delicately inquires, the warmth in his eyes making it evident that he only wants to provide you with utter comfort and nothing else. “Mhm.” You answer as you move your hands towards the nape of his neck, interlacing them.

Jungkook steadies his hand on your pillow as he pushes himself into your wetness, groaning pleasurably. You arch into him, familiarising yourself with his thickness, the feeling still somehow being foreign. The two of you curse as Jungkook nestles his cock into you, your tightness spurring him on further.

“I’ve missed this.” Jungkook moans out loudly as he softly moves forward to settle into you. “I’ve missed the way your walls clench around me.” You whimper at his words and the delicious stretch, your chest rising as you anticipate his next measure. Jungkook gently pulls out of you, only to penetrate you deeper as he hits your cervix. 

“I want to love you. Softly. Slowly. Take my time and worship you the way you deserve..” He groans as he glides himself out of you once again, your pooling wetness allowing him to drag himself at ease despite the tightness. You are already filled to the brim, the feeling of home apparent to you both.

“I want to kiss every inch of your perfect body. Love you the way you love me, my love.” 

You moan at his confession, tears threatening to spill as the thickness of Jungkook’s cock stretches you out flawlessly. You clench around him tighter which makes Jungkook moan, reaching forward to kiss you harder. 

You whine into his mouth, urging him to move.

And so he does.

Jungkook sets a steady and sensuous pace, pressing his hips into you keenly as he moves in and out of you in a languid manner. He presses sweet kisses to your lips and cheeks, breathing deeply as he softly fucks your dripping pussy. Jungkook looks at you with all the tenderness he could gather, moving his hand to slide at the base of your spine, pulling you further onto his cock. Jungkook presses your foreheads together as he continues his tender thrusts. 

“I love you so much, so much it hurts.”

Jungkook’s precious words shelter you. Protect you. Make you feel whole. They tend to your hidden wounds, caressing over them in the most soft manner. Your heart flutters at his confession, making you wrap your legs around him tighter as you rut against him trying to match the rhythm of his thrusts. The slightly harsh rocking of Jungkook’s hips provided your clit with the relief it needed. Your cum was already pooling beneath you as he kissed the tears of his passion away from your eyes. Jungkook takes your hand, resting it against your head, entwining your nimble fingers with his own. The slight breeze from the air outside and the warmness your room was providing was the perfect mix, making you feel all the more loved. All the more safe with him. 

Your mouths were leaving sloppy kisses wherever they could reach, your sweaty bodies entangled together and your breasts suffused with red from Jungkook’s earlier doings. The both of you felt divine, the wetness all around you being your greatest evidence. The two of you were so lost in one another, so infatuated by each other’s presence, you don’t even realise the mess you had created. You squeezed Jungkook’s hand as he picked up the speed of his thrusts, ensuring to provide you with the ease you needed. 

“I love this.. God, I fucking love the way you make me feel. The way you love me.” You spill, making Jungkook penetrate you deeper. Words were hard to muster and so you refrain from speaking further, simply letting your begging moans inform him how good he makes you feel. How heavenly he makes you feel with every precise thrust.

You don’t need to communicate, Jungkook’s hard and animalistic groans echoing inside your little bedroom are enough on both of your behalfs. He pulls out lightly, before grinding deeper as he presses his taut body against your smaller self, provoking you towards another orgasm. You claw at his back, wanting him closer and so he tightens his hold against you, kissing at your neck as he whispers sweet nothings and innocent promises into your sensitive ears. His rhythmic hips not halting their pace, sensually drawing you towards your end. 

“You’re doing so well for me baby, such a good girl.” And you know he means each and every encouragement that leaves his lips, a reflection of the pure love he feels for you. You thread your fingers through his hair as he sinks himself into you again, hitting against your g-spot, making your legs quiver and him grunting at the feeling of your wetness pooling on his cock. 

Your moans become louder and Jungkook recognises that you need more friction, bringing his hand down to rub against your clit. The sweet pressure as he perfectly thrusts into you has you curling your toes, the feeling of him stretching you wide and making you more wet was exactly all you needed right now. “Almost done, I promise. My baby is so perfect. isn’t she?” He hummed against the temple of your head. 

“Jungkook.” You moan in utter euphoria as he picks up his pace, slamming into you with  completely new force, ensuring he syncs with the thumbing against your clit. Jungkook begins to move harsher, ramming into you hard, hitting each pleasurable spot whilst holding your body down with his strong yet soft hands. 

His actions contrast with the softness of his kisses and the integrity of the loving praises he showers you with. His eyes never once leave you, watching you bite your lips, watching your eyes become more watery, watching the sweat begin to form at your baby hairs.

Jungkook swears he has never seen a sight so gorgeous, so breathtaking. You reach to cup his cheek, telling him repeatedly how much you love him and he gently nods at you, a shy smile breaking out on his face while his pace inside you never changes. 

Your hands find Jungkook’s toned back once again, scratching down it as you feel your insides constrict, the coil threatening to break as Jungkook’s pelvis and skin hits against yours repeatedly. You melt into his body as you seek the comfort Jungkook provides you with his sweet, blissful love. You both moan in sync and mirror each other's expressions as you internally thank the heavens above for the love that has been graced upon you. 

A series of ‘I love yous’ and ‘You’re all mine’ are heard from the two of you as Jungkook paints your insides white. You feel his cock pulsing as he fills you to the very brim, eliciting a distinct whimper out of you. You leak your wetness all over yours and Jungkook’s legs as he rests his head against your shoulder, telling you that you’ve done well through kisses on your warm skin. Jungkook pushes into you harder as if he wants you both to be one just a little longer. As if he wants to melt into you completely. You run your fingers through his damp hair as he finally stills.

“You always feel so amazing.” Jungkook chuckles, evoking a giggle out of you. He slips his softening cock out you carefully, being sure not to hurt you. You wince slightly at the loss of close contact, wanting to experience this all again. Jungkook pecks your lips before moving to rest next to you, splaying his hand against your stomach and resting his chin on your shoulder.

He had moved from Busan to Seoul. Travelled from America to Europe. Europe to Asia. He had felt safe, secure and content wherever he went. Yet the feeling of home, the feeling of evermore was only ever found with you.

“You’re mine.” You softly whisper.

“I’m all yours.”

The room is now silent, the only noise being heard is the deep panting coming from the both of you and the rain that patters against your window. Cleaning your surroundings and yourselves is far from your mind, Jungkook’s presence and warmth being the only aftercare you need. You wrap your arm around him and nuzzle into his neck as he pulls you closer, straightening what he can of your tousled hair. The breeze from the outside world cools you both down, bringing in a sense of balance; the wisdom to move yet at a steady pace. 

You and Jungkook both have your eyes closed, calming down from your highs whilst resting in one another’s embrace. You feel yourself finally drifting away to dreamland in the presence of your safe place. The beginning of this new spring day was like a love song, one that morphed from a melancholy slowness to a happier and more uplifting tune.

The two of you are relaxed, as the early spring breeze brings for you a sense of hope. An awakening magic inhabits the room, a sensation of an old-spirit rekindling and seeking to knit together all that is good. 

Feeling at peace in the arms of your lover, you know you are safe. Jungkook presses you against himself firmly and before you slip away to a more tranquil mindset, you feel a sweet kiss being placed on your forehead and you know that you are in a flower meadow with Jungkook, surrounded by the colour of his love for you. The thousands of petals representing the thoughts he had. Feeling at ease, you settle well into him.  Every muscle’s tension, lost to the calm ripened air. 

You are home. 

You always are, when you’re with him.

And there we go. I hope you enjoyed! Feedback and comments are always appreciated <3

Until next time,

🤍

[kingstarkingslay]

A HONEYMOON IN PARIS

The Eiffel Tower loomed elegantly in the distance, its iron lattice glowing in the twilight. Sirius stood with his arm wrapped around Remus, sorry , his husband’s waist, watching the city transform as the sun dipped below the horizon. The warm hues of dusk washed over them, and the atmosphere was thick with romance.

“Can you believe we’re actually here?” Sirius grinned, his dark hair tousled by the gentle breeze. “Paris, the city of love, and we get to enjoy it as newlyweds!”

Remus chuckled softly, leaning against Sirius. “I always thought we’d end up on some quiet beach, but this... this is perfect.”

“Not to mention it’s a little more exciting than sand in our shoes,” Sirius teased, his eyes sparkling. “Imagine the stories we’ll tell Lily and James!”

“Stories that might make them a bit envious,” Remus replied, his voice warm. “Especially about that time you nearly fell into the Seine trying to take a picture.”

“Hey, that was a strategic move to get you to save me!” Sirius laughed, nudging Remus playfully.

As they strolled along the Seine, the reflections of the city danced on the water’s surface. Sirius paused, pulling Remus closer. “You know, I’ve been thinking…”

“Oh?” Remus raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued.

Sirius grinned mischievously. “How about we find a cozy little café, order some pastries, and let me sweep you off your feet?”

“Isn’t that what you’re doing already?” Remus quipped, his heart racing at the warmth of Sirius’s body so close to his.

“Touché,” Sirius smirked, leaning in closer. “But I’d like to do it with a side of crème brûlée.”

“Alright, you’ve convinced me,” Remus said, pretending to consider it. “But only if you promise to let me have the first bite.”

Sirius’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Deal, but only if I can feed you.”

“Are you sure you’re up for that? You might end up with it all over your face,” Remus teased, a playful smile gracing his lips.

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” Sirius replied, his voice low and flirtatious.

They found a charming café tucked away on a cobbled street, its wrought iron tables adorned with tiny vases of blooming flowers. As they settled into their seats, Sirius ordered a selection of pastries, his enthusiasm infectious.

“You spoil me,” Remus said, his eyes softening as he watched Sirius animatedly chatter with the waiter.

“Only the best for my husband,” Sirius declared proudly, and Remus felt a rush of warmth at the title.

When the pastries arrived, Sirius immediately picked up a flaky croissant and held it out to Remus. “Open wide!”

Remus laughed, taking a delicate bite, but as he chewed, Sirius leaned in, his breath warm against Remus’s cheek. “I have to say, you look incredibly charming with a bit of pastry dust on your lips.”

Remus wiped his mouth, trying to hide a grin. “You’re just looking for an excuse to kiss me.”

“Guilty as charged,” Sirius said, leaning closer until their lips almost touched. “But can you blame me?”

Before Remus could respond, Sirius closed the gap, kissing him softly. The world around them faded; the laughter of passersby, the clinking of cups, all disappeared as they melted into each other.

When they finally pulled apart, Remus’s cheeks were flushed, and he couldn’t help but chuckle. “You really are hopeless.”

“Hopelessly in love,” Sirius corrected, his tone earnest. “With you.”

The warmth of Sirius's gaze made Remus’s heart swell. “I feel the same way.”

[radiowallet]

Eyes Open - Chapter 3

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x Amy Oliver (ofc) Summary: Marcus and Amy share lunch. JUST lunch. WC: 2.6K Warnings: 18+ MDNI Canon-typical violence, talk of police work, slow burn, yearning, idiots friends to lovers, financial stressors, second chance romance, workplace romance (sort of), older love interest, single parents, alluding to male masturbation, DID I MENTION THE YEARNING?

Series Masterlist II Main Masterlist II Marcus Moreno Masterlist

Cross-Posted to AO3

Part 2 >>> Part 4

For any new writing follow @radiowallet-writes and turn on notifications.

----

Amy Oliver prefers a turkey sandwich, light on the mayo but extra mustard. The spicy kind, if she can get it. She likes provolone cheese but won’t turn her nose up at a good sharp cheddar. No tomato but lettuce is a must. And never, ever forget the pickle. Marcus knows it’s pointless to show his face without the pickle. 

He orders her two; another pitiful attempt to say thank you. 

Or maybe I’m sorry.

He grabs one of the cellophane-wrapped brownies sitting at the register to split the difference.

Lunch in hand, Marcus heads in the direction of the police station, his pace faltering as he speeds up and slows down, anxious to be back in Amy’s presence but less than thrilled at the circumstance. Running into her and Harris at the grocery store had been a happy accident; a coincidence of serendipity he never would have dreamed of recreating. He had planned on calling her on Monday, feigning the same story about forgotten glasses and needing to stop by for them, hoping the inflection of his voice through the phone would be enough to convey his request. 

But then her shopping cart slammed into his hip, knocking all sense free from his head. He had been hopelessly distracted by her from the get go, her smile easy, her laughter bright. Her hair was free, falling down around her shoulders in soft waves, a rare sight from the swept back ponytail she wore at work. When she dipped her head he had practically mangled the tortillas he had been holding to keep from brushing the tips of his finger through the soft fall of hair around her cheeks. 

For a moment it had been so domestic; a cart full of groceries, Harris waving shyly behind her mom while Missy rolled her eyes at the jarred salsa. In the blink of an eye, the two girls were quickly bonding over sugary cereals and granola bars. Marcus and Amy watched from the sidelines, the warmth of her shoulder a breath away, and so easily stealing the air from his lungs. 

Alone in his bed that night he let his imagination run away from him, picturing afternoons spent just like that one, running errands together as a family of four, coming home to a house they shared, cooking dinner together while the girls finished their homework. It only snowballed from there. Tucking Harris into bed in a room she helped him paint. Bidding Missy goodnight as she heads out to see her friends. Falling into a bed he and Amy called theirs. 

He woke up the next morning hard and leaking, a groan burned into the roof of his mouth. Before he could stop himself he was giving in, wrapping his fingers around his length, stroking himself hard and fast until he was spilling into his hand, Amy’s face dancing at the blackened corners of his vision. 

Afterward, he stood in the shower until the water ran cold and his skin turned to ice, a pitiful attempt to wash away this newest layer of guilt.

Now he was standing outside the precinct, clutching at the brown paper bag that was more ruse than offering, trying to remind himself that friends like Amy didn’t come along very often. It certainly wouldn’t do either of them any good to jeopardize what they have. It was already on fragile enough ground, Marcus’s own selfish needs (unspoken or not) taking the front seat yet again. 

But he couldn’t stop his mind from circling back to Miracle Guy's words. Maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t such a bad thing that he wanted more than friendship. And maybe it was possible that she wanted more too. He goes around and around and around again, and it’s only when the clock finally ticks over to 12, that he works up the courage to walk into the station, his eyes glued to Amy Oliver and no one else. 

——

“Hey, stranger.” 

Marcus greets her with the same smile he always does, sweet sincerity, and only the smallest hint of worry. He’s always masked his fears well, and Amy thinks maybe if she didn’t have the pleasure of knowing him so well she would probably miss it. 

“Hey! Do you have a meeting with Baldwin today?” 

She fumbles with her mouse for a second, clicking over to the calendar attached to her email, shooting Marcus a sheepish look that’s probably a hair over the top. “I could have sworn I double-checked his schedule for the day.” 

“No, no! This is just a pop-in!” Marcus promises, his reassuring hand wave matching her frantic acting skills. “I actually can’t find my glasses. These are my spares,” he repeats the lie from the grocery store. “I think I left them here, maybe?” 

She nods as if it’s the first time she’s hearing the farce, before pulling open the bottom drawer of her desk where the lost and found box waits. She hears the paper bag Marcus had been clutching hit her desk as she rummages through the box of junk, counting backward from 50 as she does. When she hits 1 she sits back up, with a shake of her head. 

“They’re not in the lost and found. But we can take a look around the precinct after lunch if you like?” 

“Sounds good,” he agrees, but his attention has already moved on, eyes cheating between where he carefully empties the brown paper bag – the familiar logo of their favorite deli on the front – and the large box sitting by her feet. Neither mentions it for the time being, instead digging into the spread Marcus brought with him.

“Harris has not stopped asking about Missy since last week,” she shares through a mouthful of chips, remembering how just this morning her daughter had gone into a 10-minute monologue about the older girl as Amy prepared her breakfast.

“Missy will be over the moon to hear it. I remember when she was Harris’s age. Her only request for two years running was for a baby sister.”

“Did you ever wish you guys had more? A whole gaggle of Morenos?” Amy asks, folding her legs up under herself before reaching for her sandwich.

“Sometimes,” Marcus shrugs, taking a bite of his own sandwich and chewing thoughtfully. “It never panned out.”

He doesn’t parrot the question back to her; something he knows would be pointless, at least partially acquainted with the story of Harris’s father being very much out of the picture. Still, she’s grateful for his perception, and the subject easily shifts to other things, the two of them trading stories back and forth about the girls, Marcus’s newest tv show binge, and Amy’s current bedtime reading.

“I can’t believe you’re reading a movie novel.” 

“No! It’s a Star Wars novel set in the high republic. Totally different.”

“Yes, I see that,” Marcus teases but Amy is undeterred. 

She nudges his knee with the press of her fingertips. “Please tell me that extra pickle is for me?”

He laughs, loud and deep, pushing the second of three pickles toward her.

“I grabbed you a brownie too.”

It's such a small thing. Silly, really. A cheap brownie wrapped in plastic sitting innocently between the sandwiches and pickles and cans of off-brand soda. But still, it sends a flutter through her stomach that Marcus really did think of everything. She’s about to say thank you when the sound of Derek’s office door opening pulls her attention away, his eyes landing on the picnic spread across her desk. 

“Jeez, Moreno,” he smirks, his light tone belying the sharp cut of his gaze. “Can’t treat a girl to a real restaurant?”

“Ignore him,” Amy fires back, her own smirk forming around her last bite of turkey and cheese. “The chief is just mad that he has to hand over a few cases to the special crimes unit today.”

Baldwin doesn’t rise to the jab except to grumble out ‘classified,’ instead turning towards the coffee pot to refill the mug he brought out of his office with him. He takes a long, loud swallow before turning back around to look at Amy.

“I have a few things I want to go over before the meeting today. When your date is over, come find me.”

That one word lands like a grenade between them and despite having been teased endlessly about this very subject, Amy still feels her face heat up like a furnace. Marcus continues to eat, seemingly impervious to her boss’s not-so-subtle joke, but she can see the soft dusting of pink along his cheeks. The very same blush she had admired between the aisles of a grocery store when his hands made contact with her own. 

She’d be a goddamn liar if she didn’t admit how good it sounded to hear that word tied so easily to the man sitting across from her. It was only getting harder to resist the desires that made a home inside her heart regarding Marcus Moreno. 

His eyes find her own and he gives her the briefest of winks before he hides behind a sip of soda. Before she can let her mind linger on the meaning behind any of it, Derek’s door closes with a snap, breaking the moment apart.   

“Hey,” Amy starts, refusing to let anything awkward settle between them, “before we look around for your glasses can you do me a favor?”

“As if I’d say no to the woman who makes my coffee on a regular basis.”

She hums softly, but when she looks up, it’s to Marcus’s gaze still fixed on her, his smile soft, his eyes warm. She feels herself slipping beneath his stare, the carefully placed border around her heart cracking in time with each breath she pulls in. But all too quickly she remembers why he’s here and her part to play.

“The box…,” she falters, gesturing pathetically at her feet, “this box. It’s heavy. Think you could carry it down to the file room with me?”

Marcus swallows, the length of his throat bobbing up and down with the effort, and then he’s nodding and standing, the large box lifted as if it weighs nothing at all. Amy makes quick work of the mess on her desk, paper wrappers, and empty chip bags swept into her small garbage can before standing herself and leading Marcus down the familiar set of stairs. 

——

A date.

Baldwin had called it a date.

It was an obvious jab, probably intended to tease Amy and irritate Marcus all in one go. But the only thought in Marcus’s head the minute he heard it was how good it sounded. How the very idea of a date with Amy Oliver filled his chest with that familiar thrill of butterflies that had him grinning like an idiot. The feeling only increased tenfold when she didn’t dispute her boss’s words, her own cheeks stained pink, her bottom lip snared between her teeth. 

It would have been so easy to take a chance then and there. Test the waters and ask for the more he had been craving for what felt like years now. But before he could summon something more than a silly wink born out of nerves, Amy was clearing her throat and picking up the little game they had been playing, casually asking him to help with a heavy box. 

They’ve done this one before. Multiple times in fact. Amy was a pro at phrasing the question perfectly; always able to strike the perfect balance between wanting the superhero to help with a big heavy box without once coming across as weak. Sometimes Marcus wondered if she asked one of the officers to help her with these things when he wasn’t around. That particular train of thought usually brought about a flare of jealousy that bordered on possessive, and he did his best to ignore those feelings altogether.

They moved down the stairs as a unit, Marcus always two steps behind Amy, pretending like always, that he didn’t know the way to the file room by heart. Once they were inside she was quick to close the door behind them, kicking a few empty boxes in front of it. Just in case. 

“So which cases are you guys handing over to special crimes?”

“Funnily enough, the same ones you were asking about last week.”

“No wonder he’s so annoyed.” 

Amy laughs at that, muffling the sound behind the press of her hand. “I swear he almost looked like he wanted to ask for your help up there as a hail mary.”

“Pffff, sure. And afterward, we can all ice skate home because hell would have certainly frozen over,” Marcus grins, all too amused at his own joke. 

“Fair point,” she agrees, surveying the shelves, the tip of her finger jumping from box to box. “Of course, he still can’t seem to keep his mouth shut. I…um,” she falters, her head ducking low, the tips of her ears burning red. “...calling it a date. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.”

Amy whips around at his words, eyes wide and lips parted, something like disbelief coloring her features. Marcus thinks maybe she says his name, a whispered plea though what she’s asking for he isn’t sure. Not yet anyway. He waits patiently, tracing her features in the low light hanging up above, and in his patience, he is rewarded with her own confession.

“Me either.”

It happens slowly, then all at once. The box slips from his hands, the sound of it hitting the ground lost in the rapid beat of his heart, the heavy breath in his lungs. He moves in closer, each step taken slowly, allowing Amy time to move away. In what feels like hours and yet still only seconds, his chest is pressed to her, the tips of her fingers reaching out to brush his own. Marcus can’t help himself, indulging in the ability to admire her up close, tendrils of brown falling down to frame her cheek, dark eyelashes curving up in a flutter, and the tiniest slip of her tongue as she licks at her lips. 

He lingers there, unable to look away from the plush pink of her lips, wondering, even now, what it would be like to take this final step. Amy moves in, just a breath closer, her nose nudging gently into his own, her gaze cheating down to his lips. It’s almost inevitable now, their fingers just starting to tangle, her breath warm where it meets his, the space between them slowly starting to disappear with the passing of each and every second. He could lean in now, and she could meet him, finally giving into something that has been ignored so steadily.

But just as he does, his forehead falling forward and her chin tilting up, there is the familiar sound of steps on stairs. Before Marcus can register reality, Amy’s warmth is gone, the space in front of him heartbreakingly empty, and the door behind him is banging open, the sound of Derek Baldwin stealing their moment away.

“Hey, Oliver, you got time to notarize something for me?”

She keeps her eyes on Marcus as she nods, the tips of her fingers pressed squarely to her mouth, longing and regret stretching out between them. 

“Um…yeah. Yes, sir.” 

“Thanks! I’ll meet you upstairs.”

When the last of Baldwin’s steps fade back up the stairs and they’re alone again Marcus moves, but only half a step before he stops himself. The moment is suddenly lost and he doesn’t know how to recapture it, and he hates it even more, how far away she’s standing. After a few minutes, she shakes her head and takes another step back, half a smile pulling her lips.

“I can probably buy you 10 minutes. What you’re looking for should be in the box you carried down.”

And because he doesn’t know what else to say, he says, “Thank you.”

And just like always, Amy shrugs and answers back, “For what?”

------

Part 2 >>> Part 4

Thank you to everyone reading this silly little story. I know I’ve said this before but I have had the best time writing it. It’s brought me genuine joy and I’m so enjoying sharing it with everyone. 🖤

As always, the biggest thanks to my love @jazzelsaur who has been patient and supportive as I screech about these two idiots.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Routines

Tim and Marinette lived busy lives.

It was by choice, of course.

They were both prominent figures in their fields that could pick and choose the assignments they wished to take, had more money than they could ever dream of using thanks to the hefty trust fund that being even tangentially related to Bruce Wayne provided, and no one would blame them if they were to lessen or give up their vigilantism. If they wished, there was nothing stopping them from taking a smaller workload, from using up all of their sick days, from taking vacations, from quitting their jobs entirely...

That being said, they likely never would.

And the tabloids loved to speculate on their relationship because of it. How could they spend much time together if Tim was always at work, developing new technology for Wayne Enterprises? Marinette was cheating, how could she not when so much of her job as a designer involved getting up close and personal with models? Not to mention all of the business trips. Surely, the relationship had some kind of monetary motivation, or maybe it was just to more seamlessly merge their companies, or it had only happened for PR reasons.

They let them speculate. They simply didn’t know better.

The tabloids didn’t get to see how they acted behind closed doors, after all.

There would be days where neither of them went in to work. It wasn’t due to some sort of sickness that Tim had caught thanks to his lack of spleen, nor would it be because Marinette had hit some kind of artist’s block. No, it was simply because they wanted to spend time together.

~

They took breaks. Technically. If you squint.

There would be days where neither of them went into work. It wasn’t due to some sort of sickness that Tim had caught thanks to his lack of spleen, nor would it be because Marinette had hit some kind of artist’s block. No, it was simply because they wanted to spend time together.

They would turn on the coffee machine and then make their way over to the sofa. Marinette would nestle herself into his side and smile as he wrapped his arm around her. He would pull her as close as he possibly could so he could still use both arms to type.

He usually took video calls like this. It was always so much easier to maintain a pleasant smile, even when people often looked down on him for his age, because whenever he felt it start to waver he could simply look down at his girlfriend and suddenly he would find that it would be back in full force.

She would prop her sketchbook on her legs and start on some new designs. The designs she did like this were always, inexplicably, more lively than the other ones -- full of vibrant colors and swooping curves in a way that some of her other works lacked. If asked, Marinette would joke that the secret ingredient was love.

And, sure, this wasn’t technically taking a break from work. They were still productive, still did tasks...

But they counted it. They always came back to work the next day with the same euphoric feelings in their chests, the same springs in their steps. How could they not? They’d spent the entire day doing what they loved with the person that they loved. Who could ever want a break from that?

~

Every time one of them came back from a business trip, they made sure to spend the night together.

Tim would lay back in bed, Marinette on top of him. Her head would come to rest on his chest, clutching the back of his shirt tightly. His fingers would find their way to her hair and she would huff a little, knowing that her hair was about to get hopelessly tangled as he fidgeted with the silky strands, but she would nuzzle into his chest all the same.

They would watch a TV show. It didn’t matter whether it was good or bad. As long as there were people and some semblance of a plot, they would gladly stay wrapped up in each other’s arms to watch it.

Tim would rattle off whatever theories he had developed as they came to mind. Some of them were absolutely insane, he knew, and would never happen… but it was worth making a fool of himself if it got Marinette’s face to light up or if he earned one of those little giggles that escaped her when he was instantly proven wrong.

Marinette would, at least, pause the show whenever she wanted to talk, though it wasn’t out of an understanding of how time works. No, it was so she could sit up a little in his lap and point at whichever character had offended her this time. She would go on long rants about how makeup was just as important as outfits in costuming, but it was often overlooked in favor of making the actors look pretty. And, maybe she had already said all of this before, but it’s important, Tim! And he would just nod his agreement. Because it was important -- a TV night certainly wouldn’t feel like a TV night without at least one rant.

And then the screen would go black, the most recent episode done.

Tim would draw back a little and then pretend to be shocked when his hands were stuck in her hair.

“Oh noooooo,” he’d say. “I guess I can’t let go yet.”

“How unfortunate,” she would deadpan.

He’d smile cheekily at her.

“Shut up.”

“But I didn’t even say anything!” He’d argue with overexaggerated offense.

She would smile, shaking her head as much as she could with the fingers in her hair. “You didn’t have to. You have a presence about you.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment,” he’d say.

And, sometimes, she’d bring her hands up to cup his face. “Not sure if it was a compliment, but I definitely wouldn’t have it any other way,” she’d whisper before pulling him closer for a kiss.

… but, most of the time she would just laugh and say: “It wasn’t one.”

~

Once a month, Marinette tried to teach Tim to cook. Of course, they both knew it was a hopeless endeavor. He’d failed to make mac n’ cheese once, and Marinette -- who had lived the first eighteen years of her life in a Parisian bakery -- wasn’t good at discerning which meals were ‘easy to do’.

But that didn’t stop her from trying.

She would come up with a new recipe, would claim that this one was truly dummy proof…

And then Tim, dummy that he was, would manage to mess it up. Without fail, he would find some way to do something wrong. He would leave the milk on the stove and then be surprised when said milk on the stove decided to revolt against the system. He would raise the temperature on the thing they were baking so it would go faster and then be shocked when the cake didn’t rise at all. He would put too much in the mixer and then not understand why the contents had exploded over the two of them.

Worst thing was, she was pretty sure he was actually trying. He just… couldn’t seem to do it.

So, she would just kiss the disappointed frown off of his face and promise that they would do better next time.

And, every time without fail, he would light up.

“There will be a next time?” He would ask.

“Yeah. You’re lucky you’re cute, I can’t say I love being covered in ingredients.”

Tim would kiss her cheek, and then draw back and lick his lips. “I don’t know, I kind of like it. Something about my girlfriend being covered in tasty food really does something for me.”

“Like I said: you’re lucky you’re cute.”

And, even though she would say that, there was no mistaking the amusement dancing in her eyes.

~

They weren’t particularly religious, it was hard to be when Marinette had a god living in her earrings that obeyed her every command…

Which meant celebrations for the two of them were few and far between.

But, at least, they celebrated their anniversary.

They would sit on the rooftop, the blankets doing nothing to keep the hard tiles of the roof from digging into them and they did even less against the chilly Gotham air.

She’d stare up at the sky with him.

And, since it was Gotham, there were very few stars to be seen through the dark red and black haze of clouds that hung over the city.

But they didn’t mind.

Marinette smiled. “It’s our colors.”

He didn’t look over, watching the colors swirl above them. “Even the sky thinks we’re a good couple.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised. The sky god really does have a thing for love.”

He gave a short puff of laughter and finally tore his eyes away from the sky. “Really?”

She shrugged, grinning at him. “No clue. There might not even be a sky god.”

He scoffed and untangled his hand from its blanket prison to give her a tiny shove. She could have dodged the attempt with ease, but she allowed the hand to make contact.

To her surprise, he grabbed ahold of her shoulder and pulled her into him. She gave an undignified little squeak and, if it weren’t for the fact that he was right there, she would have probably faceplanted onto the tile.

But, instead, her face came crashing into his soft, pillowy shoulder.

She looked up at the crooked grin that she had come to love over the years and huffed, pulling her own arms free so she could shove him. For real.

He flopped back, the hand he’d managed to get out coming to rest over his chest as if he were hurt.

“How could you? Roofs hurt, you know.”

“Well, yeah, if you throw yourself down on tiles it’s not going to feel too great.”

He cracked a grin, though he quickly tamped it down to keep up the act: “Victim blaming at its finest.”

She rolled her eyes and leaned over him. One of her hands cradled his cheek, her thumb tracing the tiny scar on his cheekbone.

He looked up at her. And she thought, somewhere, that maybe the reason the pollution in the city was just some kind of coverup so no one would know that they all resided in Tim’s eyes.

And then she cursed herself mentally for thinking something so cheesy.

She had to make up for it somehow:

“You’re the worst, I hope you know that.”

“I am. But you love me anyway.”

Dang it. How was she supposed to feign being annoyed when he looked at her like that? With that soft smile and thick lashes and hair that framed his face just so.

She decided it wasn’t worth trying to pretend.

Marinette let herself match his smile.

“I do.”

“Save those words for our wedding,” he joked softly.

She rolled her eyes. “You haven’t even proposed yet.”

“I could be doing that right now. Who knows, this could all be my plan.”

“It’d be a good plan,” she said. “I’d probably say yes.”

He narrowed his eyes just slightly. “Isn’t that essentially you proposing to me?”

She tipped her head to the side, considering, then she laughed a little. “I guess it kind of is. So, Tim, will you marry me?”

His eyes widened to an almost comical degree.

And then his face lit up with a smile that made her heart flutter.

“I hope you know I want a ring.”

She giggled. “Just say yes, you idiot. We can always get the ring tomorrow.”

His smile only stretched further. “Yes. I’d love to marry you.”

“I love you,” she whispered, leaning closer until her lips brushed against his.

“I love you, too,” he breathed.

Marinette didn’t hesitate any longer, tilting her head to give him a proper kiss. He freed himself of the blanket and she gasped a little against his lips as he wrapped her up in it as well, drawing her close.

She pulled away just a little, her forehead coming to rest against his. She couldn’t seem to get the dopey smile off of her face, but she wasn't completely sure she even wanted it gone.

“I proposed first, so I won,” she said, sticking her tongue out at him playfully.

He smiled. “No, I did.”

[bruhstories]

You Truly are Beautiful when You Cry

Summary: Y/N leaves a party only to find Eren in front of her apartment. Shit happens. Pairing: Eren Jaeger x Fem!Reader, mentioned Eren x Mikasa (modern AU) Warnings: language, mentions of loss of virginity, unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex (male receiving), masochist!Reader, toxic and dominant Eren, sadist!Eren, face slapping, mentions of blood, mention of toxic relationships, dacryphillia — Eren’s nuts, just fiy Word Count: 2.5 k

A/N: I just wanna say, I have absolutely nothing against Mikasa, I like her a lot, but for the purpose of this fic, Y/N hates her. Also, shameless smut y’all. I feel like this needs a part two  — who knows, maybe one day.

You and Eren have been friends since childhood — not inseparable, like he was with Mikasa and Armin, but good friends nonetheless. It came as a shock to you when him and Mikasa started dating, almost feeling disgusted, considering they were practically siblings. You tried your best to be supportive of their relationship, but Eren knew you too well for your own good, and sometimes you had to swallow down the vomit when you saw them together. It was even more shocking when you left Connie's party and found Eren on the stairs leading up to your apartment. He had a blank stare, not a single hint of emotion behind his emerald eyes, his lips pursed and waiting for you. You almost didn't recognise him in the dim light, his bun dishevelled, locks of hair covering his face.

"Jaeger? Is that you?" You asked, keys between your fingers, ready to hit.

"In the flesh, Y/L/N." He replied, his voice empty. You two had a habit of calling each other by your last names ever since you met in kindergarten. You lowered your hand and rushed to him, wondering if something happened tonight.

"Are you okay? You disappeared from the party all of a sudden. Armin was worried sick-"

"We broke up." The words caught you off guard, but in a sick twist of events, you were happy to hear that. In a way, you knew their relationship was doomed from the very beginning, surprised that it even lasted three full years.

"Shit." You chewed your lip in the darkness of the hallway. "Come on, let's go inside, you can tell me everything."

Eren looked at the hand you extended and gripped it tightly, helping himself up. The two of you had an odd friendship, to say the least. Before Mikasa, Eren would tease you, sexual innuendos all over the place, he'd seen you naked countless times, you caught him jacking off once. You both lost your virginities to one another, no strings attached. But you did get attached. You got so attached when him and Mikasa started dating and the rotten feeling ate you from the inside out.

You flipped the switch inside your flat and threw your backpack on a chair, along with your jacket. Eren kicked his boots off and threw himself on the couch with a growl while you pulled out a bottle of vodka from the fridge. He always acted like your apartment was his.

"Food?"

"No."

"Alright. Now tell me, what happened?" You asked, seating beside him and passing him the alcoholic beverage. He took a sip to wet his dry throat and threw his head back.

"We went in a room at Connie's. I wanted to tie her up with that stupid scarf she keeps wearing — my scarf — and she kept saying no." Eren explained before taking a few more sips. You nodded, eager to hear the rest of the story and trying your best to contain your giddiness. "I didn't force her or anything. She started spewing shit about how I changed, how I'm always angry and aggressive, how we don’t make love anymore. How I'm not the pure, innocent boy she fell in love with." He practically mocked the sentence. "And then that was it. Said we aren't compatible anymore and that she wants out of this 'toxic' relationship." Eren gestured quotation marks in the air while you took the bottle and downed some vodka yourself.

"Man, I'm really sorry to hear this." You lied. The sound of his dark laughter sent shivers down your spine, the little hair on your arms and the back of your neck standing up. "Something funny, Jaeger?"

"You're such a terrible liar, Y/N." Eren slightly turned his head to look you in the eye. Your own name rolling down his tongue sounded so natural, so perfect. You tried to speak, but the words stopped in your throat when he moved closer, his figure hovering above your petite frame. "What, you think I didn't know?"

"K-know what?" You finally managed, a short-circuit in your brain.

"That you're so obviously in love with me." Eren flashed you a sneer.

"Am not—" slap

His palm met your cheek, hard enough to flush it crimson, but not hard enough to hurt. Mouth agape, you just couldn't respond. For three long years you waited for this man to come to his senses and realise how much you truly loved him, how much you devoted yourself to him, how much you support him. Not Mikasa, you.

"You don't have to hide anymore, Y/N." Eren kissed your forehead and you were putty in his hands. "I know you’ve loved me since we first fucked. I know how much you yearn for me to fuck you again."

"You're delusional!" You finally told him, despite how correct he was.

"Prove me wrong then. Go on, yell at me, shove me. Do it." But you couldn't do it, could you? Your luscious lips parted open, then they closed. "That's what I thought." He crushed his lips onto yours in a sloppy, wet kiss, your hands tangling in his messy hair, the bun long gone. Eren's calloused hands snaked around your waist and under your shirt and, in a moment of clarity, you stopped him.

"W-wait, you two just broke up! I don't want to be your rebound—"

"Who said anything about that?"

"Are you insane? You loved her!"

"Have I?"

The simple question made you realise that Mikasa bight have been right all along. That something was indeed wrong with Eren. The lack of empathy and emotion, the aggressive behaviour, the manipulation. Yet, it didn't bother you, because he came to you specifically. He could've hooked up with any other girl from the party, but he wanted you.

"Don't spoil the moment, Y/N. I might change my mind."

"No, please!" The words came out of your mouth without a warning, strengthening the fact that you were completely and hopelessly desperate.

"Perfect." Eren purred in your ear. That was all he needed to hear before his shirt was on the floor and his hands on your thighs. You tentatively pulled your skirt up, spreading your legs for him, just for him. "Good slut."

The degrading praise earned him a mewl from you, your hips thrusting into his touch, wanting more. Eren didn't waste any more time, and his fingers rubbed your wet folds through the fabric of your thongs. Your muscles instinctively flexed at the touch, your body burning with need and lust. His other hand trailed off to find your perfectly soft, round breasts. Your own hands roamed through his black hair, fingers tangling in the locks as you merely whispered 'more', unable to speak louder.

"Tell me, have you been whoring around these last years?" Eren demanded, fingers pushing your panties to the side. It slightly bothered you how much he talked during this, but, as always, Jaeger got what he wanted.

"N-no..." You told him, quiet as a mouse, but he wouldn't have any of that. Like a maniac, he ripped the lace lingerie off of you, scratching your thighs in the process. You could feel the burning sensation in the markings he left.

"I told you, Y/N, no fucking lies. I wanna know every single man who's touched you."

"W-why? Why does it m-matter?" You stuttered, your eyes searching his. Why did it matter, though? It wasn't like he cared about who you fucked. Unless... unless he did care. And his relationship with Mikasa was nothing but a mistake on his part.

"Because," Eren oh so slowly caressed your folds with his long fingers, "you're mine. Always have been, always will be." He easily slipped his index finger inside of you. "And I won't fuck you unless you tell me who else you slept with."

"Ah– w-with Jean!"

"And?"

"And R-Reiner!" You whimpered, frantically fucking yourself with his hand. You were a sight for sore eyes, sprawled on the couch and longing for his touch.

"And?" The word accentuated so hard that you thought he was about to kill you on the spot.

"Fuck– P-Porco and Ah-Annie! I swear, that's it!" You promised, your breath hitching, heartbeat raising.

"One more thing, Y/N. Did you think of me while you fucked them?"

"Yes! Always! P-please, Eren, please fuck m-me! I'm begging you!"

The little plea seemed to satisfy Jaeger. Or so you thought, because he grabbed a fistful of your hair and dragged you all the way across the apartment to your bedroom, unbothered and unphased by you screaming how much it hurt. He threw you on the shaggy rug in your room, and as you scrambled to gain your composure, you heard Eren's belt hit the floor.

"You should be an expert in sucking cock by now. Prove me how much you want me." He commanded. His voice was low and dangerous, he didn't have to yell to make you scared shitless. Obediently and afraid, you crawled to the bed on all fours, removed your shirt and palmed his hot, hard member. It was already leaking precum, and so your tongue sensually licked the droplets, the saltiness mixed with the aftertaste of vodka in your mouth sending you in a frenzy. He scared you — no, he terrified you, but you couldn't deny you were enjoying this. Mikasa didn't like it rough? Fuck that, you would let Eren kill you if it pleased him. You swirled your tongue around the tip of his cock and worked your way down his shaft, guttural sounds coming from his throat. His hand found its way to your head, and he forcefully pushed it down, stuffing your mouth and throat with his (too) thick member. Tears from pleasure and pain pooled at your Y/E/C eyes and he held you there for a good ten seconds before releasing you.

"Did I make you cry?" Eren asked, his voice almost concerned.

"Mhm." You sobbed with a nod, and he once again grabbed you by the hair, pulled you up and bent you over the wooden bedframe. So much for concern.

"Good." Jaeger slapped your ass so hard you screeched and dug your fingernails in the wood. "Remember what I told you first time I saw you cry?" He asked before positioning himself at your entrance. You nodded — how could you forget? You were both 13 and you got a bad grade, crying your eyes out and thinking that was the end of the world. Normal people would have tried to comfort you and tell you to stop crying. But not Eren. He told you he's never seen anything more beautiful. That should've been a red flag. That should've been a sign to run. Instead, you kept crying as he told you he wanted to see more. A sadist from the very beginning, and you — nothing but a slave.

Eren's thrust woke you up from the distant memory and you arched your back in response. He stretched your walls and it felt like his cock was made for you.

"You don't happen to have any rope, do you?" He asked so nonchalantly.

"N-no-"

"'S alright, we'll just use my belt." Jaeger pulled out and a sense of emptiness filled you. He belonged inside of you — you knew that for a fact — he was meant to be with you. Eren cracked the belt and whipped it all over your exposed ass, your pain-filled scream bringing joy to his ears. You couldn’t see him, but you could feel his sadistic smile burning like the sun on your nape. Before you knew it, he had your wrists tied behind your back, the thin wooden frame pushing into your skin.

"Much better." He decided as he thrusted back inside. You whimpered, moaned, groaned, all sorts of sounds came out of you as his fingers dug into your flesh. As much as you wanted, you couldn't move, gravity pulling you down. You didn't know what hurt more: the bedframe sinking deeper into your abdomen, his deeper thrusts or the tight belt around your wrists. It was safe to say your knees were wobbly, and you could feel the climax getting closer. God, you were pathetic. He barely fucked you and yet you were done for.

"E-Eren! I'm c-coming!"

"I know." He told you absentmindedly, his hand moving from your hip in-between your thighs. "I want you to be good and cum, alright?"

"Yes! Oh, fuck!! Harder – faster!" You moaned as Eren rubbed your swollen clit. A wave of pleasure took over your entire body, your legs trembling as you came all over his cock. He didn't stop, despite you begging him you couldn't take it anymore, instead he kept fucking your numbing cunt, longing for release. It hurt like a bitch to feel his thrusts, and you really wanted him to pull out, but at the same time, you had to do it — for him.

"Whoever told you that you get to tell me when to stop?" Eren bent over and grabbed you by the neck, bringing you closer to him. The fingers around tour soft neck would definitely leave a mark next day. "I'm your god, Y/N!" He groaned in your ear with one final thrust. You both sighed as he pulled out, cum leaking from your folds. You were extremely thankful to be on the fucking pill. He untied your wrists and gathered his underwear and jeans from the floor.

When you noticed him getting dressed, anxiety seeped into your veins. Wasn't he going to stay over? At least for the night? Take a shower? Anything!

"You're leaving?" You asked him, surprising yourself with the condescending tone of your voice.

"Yes?" Eren retorted, baffled by the audacity of your question.

"B-but, where are you going??" Now you just sounded desperate. “We can stay in silenc—"

"To get back with Mikasa."

Your heart sank to your stomach. To do what? Mikasa? How could he do this to you? Shit, it would've been better if you were his rebound, but this? This hurt worse. Your entire body shivered, and not from your climax. You were trembling with anger, disappointment.

"N-no, you're not!" You ran to the front door, despite the pain in your abdomen caused by the wooden bedframe. "Eren, plase! She'll never love you like I do! Please don't go, I'm begging you!"

"Don't be pathetic, Y/N." He rolled his eyes. That stupid brain in your head made you fall down your knees in front of a fully dressed Eren, tears rolling down your cheeks and trying everything in your power to stall him from leaving. "You truly are beautiful when you cry." He pushed you with his leg and walked past you. You tried to grab his sleeve, his hand, anything, but it was too late.

When the door closed behind him, he didn't know what he'd created. There, on the floor, you swung your body back and forth, knees to your chin, makeup ruined, matted hair. Your fingernails clawed at the wood underneath you until the nail polish chipped and blood seeped at the tip of your fingers. Eren Jaeger broke you into a million pieces, he ripped your heart out of your chest and ate it. But it’s alright, you told yourself between indiscernible words. The only word that you could coherently say over and over again was revenge.

[just-another-blog-of-fluff]

An Embarrassing Secret

Word count: 2150

I feel like some of these are sort of repetitive, but maybe that's because I've had to reread them to proofread so many times? In any case, you all seem to enjoy them! I hope you like this one as well.

* * *

“Ah! Y/N! Just the person I wanted to see!”

Loki flopped down on the couch beside you, jerking you from your thoughts as the couch cushion bounced under his weight. Your heart skipped a beat as you turned your gaze from the television to the Asgardian beside you, only inches of space between your leg and his.

“Me? What do you need from me? Trying to prank your brother again?” you snickered.

“Not this time, no. I just thought I should come find you and let you know about something interesting I learned this morning,” he replied, an impish lilt to his voice.

“Is this something I would find interesting? Or just you? Because the way you said that, I feel like I probably won’t find it nearly as interesting.”

“Oh, I believe you’ll find it very interesting,” he assured, a smirk tugging at his lips. Something about the way his gaze was fixated on you was unsettling. You paused the TV and turned your full attention to the god.

“What is it, then?” you questioned hesitantly.

“I learned quite an interesting secret about you earlier today.” There went your heart again, skipping another beat.

“You… did?”

“Oh, yes.” His smirk grew wider.

Your mind was racing. What on earth could he be talking about? Did he figure out you had a crush on him? What if that was the secret?? Was he disgusted by it? Did he reciprocate??

“That is interesting,” you noted, trying to keep your voice even to prevent him from seeing your anxiousness. “And… what was that, exactly?”

“Well…” he began, pulling out his cell phone from his pocket, “… this morning I happened to be perusing the library, trying to select a new novel to read. While I was wandering between shelves, I happened to notice something of yours sitting out unattended.”

You thought hard, trying to recall what it was you had been doing in the library. Had you even gone to the library this morning? You couldn’t even remember what you had for breakfast. Then again, it was difficult to concentrate with those blue-green eyes gleaming in front of you…

“And what was that Loki?”

“Your laptop.” Loki was now typing something into his phone, holding it in a way that you couldn’t see the screen.

“My laptop?” You rarely brought your laptop to the library with you, as you were typically reading books and had no need for electronics. You wracked your brain trying to remember when the last time you had even brought it with you to the library, looking away from the trickster so you could think straight.

Then you remembered. You’d brought it with you last night, hoping to get some peace and quiet away from the others, who were causing quite a ruckus in the common area playing one of Peter’s video games. You could still hear them through your bedroom door, so you packed up your laptop and brought it to the library with you to continue writing.

Writing. Oh. Oh no. No no no.

Your heart dropped into your stomach the moment you realized where this was going. Still, he hadn’t mentioned anything specific about what he’d seen yet, so you made every effort to keep a straight face. You weren’t about to give away a bigger secret if he had only learned something minorly embarrassing.

“At first, I was uncertain to whom the device belonged, and as it was already left open on the table, I decided to see if I could determine the owner so I could return it to them,” he continued, “and I found the screen to be unlocked when I turned the machine back on.”

Yep. You knew exactly where this was going now.

“You act like you were trying to do a good deed or something, but you were obviously just snooping around my stuff, weren’t you?” you muttered, trying to throw him off with your annoyance.

“Shh - I wasn’t finished with my recounting of the story yet,” he scolded facetiously. He had finally finished tapping buttons on his phone and was now scrolling through something on the screen. “When the screen unlocked, I saw quite a fascinating narrative typed out on the screen. Truly a masterpiece, really.”

“Y-you read it?” you squeaked, hiding your face in your hands.

“Oh, I did more than that darling. I also scrolled through and reviewed the rest of your little webpage.”

Your face was burning red hot against your palms now. If you could have just melted into the couch and disappeared, you wouldn’t have hesitated to do so. You felt your heart pounding in your chest with nervousness and embarrassment at the whole situation.

“Shall I read some aloud for you?” he asked.

“Nooooo Loki,” you moaned, your voice muffled by your hands. You lifted your feet up onto the couch, wrapping your arms around your knees and hiding your face behind them, trying to become as small as possible.

“Ah, here is a good part: ‘The dark-haired god suddenly tackled you to the floor, pinning your arms down at your sides under his knees as he dug his long, slender fingers into your sides.’” You pulled your knees even closer to your chest. If the floor could swallow you whole now, that would be fantastic. “Darling, you’re not paying attention.” A poke to your side caused you to jolt one arm down away from your face to protect the sensitive skin. You stole a quick glance at the god, your eyes wide.

“D-don’t!” you exclaimed.

“Isn’t this what you want?” he asked, prodding your side a few more times, causing you to jerk away each time he made contact with your thin T-shirt. “Let’s see… ah! Another great line: ‘He drilled his thumb into the front of your lowermost ribs, digging his fingers into the sides of your ribcage simultaneously. You supposed you should have known that someone with his mischievous title would be good at tickling, but the way his fingertips sought out every single one of your weak spots was causing you to slowly slip into madness.’”

You started getting up off the couch to try to make a quick exit then, hoping to hide in your room for the rest of eternity. Loki caught on before you got very far, though, and grabbed hold of your wrist to prevent you from leaving.

“Let go!” you begged, refusing to look at him as you pulled your arm hopelessly to try to escape his grasp. He tugged you closer, quickly wrapping both arms around you and tackling you to the floor. A thrill ran through your chest as you found yourself staring up at the god of mischief, your wrists pinned to the floor at your sides in his hands.

“Seem familiar?” he asked, smirking. He leaned off to the side, looking at his phone screen beside you on the floor. “Now, where were we? Ah, yes, I remember.” Loki’s fingers connected with your sides, scribbling and kneading in the best worst way. You shook your head rapidly, still too embarrassed by the whole situation to allow him to hear you laugh. “Your narrative appears to be inaccurate – according to this, you should have ‘giggles bubbling from your mouth’ but I hear nothing.”

“Loki! S-stop teasing!” you pleaded, covering your face with your hands once again now that your wrists were freed from his grasp.

“I’m simply pointing out there are some inconsistencies in your writing, y/n.” He moved his fingers to your belly, scratching maddeningly gently at the bare skin where your shirt had ridden up from squirming. You couldn’t hold back the giggles anymore, but you did manage to keep one hand pressed over your mouth to muffle your voice as you brought your other arm down to protect your torso.

A small part of you, buried deep underneath the raging embarrassment you still felt, was loving every second of this playful side of Loki. Clearly you had fantasized about this before, as evidenced by your writing. You just hadn’t anticipated he would actually find your fics, much less read them and use them against you.

“Let’s continue, shall we?” he goaded, interrupting your thoughts. He picked up his phone in one hand while continuing to dig into your belly with the other to keep you squirming while he thumbed through more of your posts. “Here’s another excellent excerpt: ‘he moved to flutter his fingers against the delicate skin behind your knee, squeezing just above your kneecap simultaneously with the other hand, making you snort.’ I would very much like to hear that, I think.” He moved down to mimic his fictitious self in your writing, making you laugh out loud and kick your leg frantically. “Y/n, I’m not hearing any snorting. So many discrepancies; I have to wonder if you’ve ever been properly tickled in the same way as your fictional likeness.”

“Stohohop… stop making fuhuhun of my writing!” you demanded, although it wasn’t very intimidating laced with your laughter.

“Oh, I don’t jest, dear – I’m merely pointing out facts. Maybe this will make you snort.” He reached down and grabbed your ankle in one hand, lightly tracing the sole of your socked foot with one finger. You, indeed, did snort. “Aha! Maybe you should have requested assistance before posting these inaccuracies.”

“LEAVE MY FEET ALOHOHONE!” you shrieked, yanking your leg to escape his grasp. He responded by simply tightening his grip, dragging four fingers up and down your foot, making sure to note which spots made you jerk. He settled on scratching gently just below the ball of your foot, laughing himself as you rolled side to side trying desperately (and ineffectively) to evade his fingers.

“You realize, darling, you’ve essentially written a map to every ticklish spot on your body. I know exactly how to exploit your unfortunate weakness.” You opened your mouth to protest but he cut you off by unexpectedly switching to digging his fingertips between your ribs. The suddenness of his movement made you squeal, batting weakly at his hands. “It’s adorable, really, how you are pretending to fight me, when we both know this is exactly what you want.”

“SHH! Shuhuhut up Loki!” you countered. He put a hand to his chest in mock offense.

“You wound me, darling,” he teased, smirking. “What did that one quote state? Ah, that’s right! Your ‘death spot’ as you’ve titled it?”

“Wait! Nohoho I’m sohohohorry!!” you panicked, planting your feet on the floor, and trying to scoot away from your assailant.

“I don’t think you are, actually.” His fingers were inching vexingly closer to your ‘death spot’ as he’d pointed out. He found humor in the fact that your laughter slowly began pitching up in octave the closer he got. “I’m pleased that you’ve written this down for me to find, y/n. I don’t believe I’d have found it otherwise – as I understand, it is not a conventional place to be so unbearably ticklish.”

“No! No no! Plehehease Loki!” you pleaded, albeit halfheartedly.

“Hmm… alright then,” he conceded, moving back down to tickle your right side, moving his other hand to scribble on the right side of your belly. It had exactly the effect he was hoping for, causing you to jolt and roll hard toward his hands. Quickly, he grabbed your left side and pushed you all the way over onto your stomach, pinning your hands down to the floor with his knees. “On second thought, I think I’m going to do it.”

“NoOAHAHAH!” you practically screamed in laughter as his fingers made contact with your back, just below your shoulder blades. Seemingly encouraged by your reaction, he applied more pressure, gently kneading between the backs of your ribs. Your nerves were on fire with ticklish electricity, and you tugged desperately to try to free your hands. It wasn’t long before your laughter became silent, your shoulders shaking as you laid there and just accepted your fate.

It seemed Loki had noticed the sudden silence, and he removed his torturous fingers from your back, releasing your hands so you could roll back over. You curled up on your side, knees close to your chest and arms wrapped around your torso rubbing the residual tingles off your sides. He hovered over you, leaning close to whisper in your ear.

“You know, darling – if you wanted me to tickle you, you simply had to ask. I find it quite adorable.”

“Oh my god, Loki…” you groaned, covering your face with your hands once again. A single finger scratched under your arm, making you pull your arms back down. “Stahahap!! Can’t you see I’m embarrassed??”

“Mm, I can see that. But was it worth it?” he asked teasingly, planting a kiss on your cheek. The flames ignited by his lips spread across your face, up to the tips of your ears.

You supposed that, just maybe, it was worth it.

Part 2: A Difficult Question

[basicallyahedgehog]

I wrote this for the wonderful @gallifrey1sburning for the Wheel of Drarry exchange. Thank you to the incredible @hogwartsfirebolt for organising this, the incomparable @coffeedrgn87 for helping me brainstorm and my brilliant @phoebe-delia for the beta.

Read below or on AO3

CW: Brief mention of blood and injury

I didn’t think I would see you again, after the war. Well, to be more accurate, I didn’t think I would ever interact with you after the war. Our world is too small for us to never cross paths again, but I pictured cold nods at Ministry galas or pretending to not see each other when lining up for the floo after a long day at work.

What I didn’t picture was you walking into the room that first day of Auror training, your face still pale from two months in Azkaban. I didn’t picture the quiet, “it’s ok, I can convert the old janitors closet to a bunk. I know no one wants me.”

I think I already knew, in that moment. I just didn’t know it yet.

What I did know, though, was that there was no way in Hell that you would be sleeping in a cupboard. Fucking Smith offered to move you in — nothing had felt so satisfying as feeling his nose break under my fist.

Apparently no one has ever been written up that fast in the history of the Academy. For once in my life I’m proud of being an anomaly.

Anyway, back to the point at hand.

If I had known in advance that we would be bunking together, here is how I would have pictured it — long stretches of silence broken only when strictly necessary, judging grey eyes looking at my messy side of the room while you keep your things in neat little piles, making do with cold showers after you hogged the bathroom for hours.

I couldn’t have been more wrong.

Instead it was like this: nervous chatter that eventually gave way to friendly conversation, your hands waving wildly as you tell me about all your favourite things. It was sleep-rumpled hair and bleary eyes only ten minutes before Parade, yet the most well-turned-out Trainee 365 days running. It was crinkled sheets and mismatched socks and infectious laughter at all hours of the day and night. It was you seated on the bunk across from me, polishing your boots while quizzing me on stealth techniques.

It didn’t take me long to fall for you. For every casual brush of your body against mine to send champagne bubbles fizzing under my skin, for every wall that I had ever built to come crumbling down.

It did take me a long time to realise it, and I am sorry. I am sorry that I made you wait so long for me to catch up.

I’m sorry I was almost too late.

You were so excited that day. We were freshly-minted Aurors, sharing a tiny flat two streets from the Ministry. After three weeks of paper-pushing we had finally been trusted with a mission of our own, and I could see in your eyes how keen you were to prove yourself.

I wanted to tell you that you had nothing to prove, that you were the best of us, that I saw you.

I wish I had said those things. Maybe if I had you wouldn’t have run in first, wand blazing. Maybe I would have been right there beside you, instead of the opposite side of the old warehouse.

Maybe I would have been able to stop them.

But I didn’t and I couldn’t and instead I was stuck against cold, rusting metal listening to your screams, until they faded out like the blood seeping from your veins.

I don’t know what happened after that. I don’t know how I got free, or how we ended up in St Mungos — or how the criminals ended up tied to the rafters. All I know is that I had to get to you, had to save you.

I knew, then, that it was more than a crush. As you lay in that hospital bed, face paler than the sheets, I knew that I was hopelessly, irrevocably in love with you.

I thought I had missed my chance.

But the universe keeps handing me miracles, at least half of them related to you. After I spent days in anxiety and self-flagellation, you finally opened your eyes. They were groggy and unfocused, but they were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

I won’t repeat what was said then, in that tiny hospital room. Some things are just for us. But know that I have never been happier than I was in that moment, your pale, clammy hand in mine, your voice hoarse with pain and disuse.

Draco, these last three years have been miracle after miracle. When I think about my old perceptions of you, I have to laugh at myself. How could I ever think that you, the softest, warmest person I know, would be cold and unfeeling? How could I ever think that I wouldn’t like you, wouldn’t love you?

I love the way you look first thing in the morning, groggy and sleep-warm, face lined with pillow creases. I love the way you’re always singing, little snatches of melodies or nonsense words. I love the way you are always so put together in public, but wear tatty sweatpants and my old hoodies in the privacy of our own home.

I love how you always make my tea perfectly, even though I’ve never told you how. I love the way you can soothe my nightmares with a single touch. I love how you know me, better than I will ever know myself.

Draco, my love, I promise to always buy new hoodies for you to steal. I promise to hold you close when you’re anxious, and pull you into silly dances when you’re sad. I promise to protect you from the world, not because you need protection, but because you deserve it. I promise to gush about my wonderful husband to all who will listen — and all who won’t.

But most of all, my beloved, I promise to love, love, love you for the rest of my life.

[farfromharry]

hide and seek | roommate!tom fic

summary: tom is like your live in nanny at this point in yours and scarlett’s life. so when he’s taking care of her again and the pair decide to play hide and seek, what happens when he can’t find her anywhere?

word count - 1,360

━━━━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━━━━

you trusted tom holland with your life, he’d been your best friend since the two of you became roommates around nine years ago, and since then you’d been through a lot.

you’d both gone through countless breakups, picking each other up with ice cream and a movie when the other needed it so bad, you’d gotten pregnant and had your little angel, and tom has basically become a co parent to her. so it wasn’t difficult to trust the man with your ray of sunshine.

it wasn’t rare for tom to babysit, you had a job and with him being an actor he could have long periods of time where he was home with not much to do.

so like every other day this week, you’d asked tom if he would babysit lettie while you worked, promising you would make it up to him somehow.

he’d obviously agreed in a heartbeat, assuring you it wasn’t a big deal because he loved her as if she was his own.

so that morning before you’d left you’d carried your sleepy angel into tom’s room, watching as in his own tired state he let her curl into his chest.

“i’ll see you both later,” you whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to both of their heads.

»»——⍟——««

it was safe to say tom didn’t expect scarlett to be this good at hide and seek. the first few rounds of their game had been easy, tom had hidden in plain sight where he was sure she could find him, and she’d tried her best to hide but he always found her anyway.

out of all the times he’d babysat her you would’ve expected the pair to play this game already, so he had no idea how they hadn’t.

currently he was in the complete opposite situation. this round of the game had been going on much longer than tom would like to admit, and he still had yet to find her anywhere.

“scarlett?” he whispered in a sing-song voice, pulling back the curtains in her room to see if she was there. by the time he’d finished searching her room he was sure by now he’d checked over every inch of the apartment, yet she still was nowhere to be seen.

“where could she possibly be hiding?” he mumbled. he missed the quiet giggle that would’ve given it away, turning on his heel and leaving the room as the fear began to set in.

had he lost her?

how was tom supposed to explain to his roommate that he’d managed to lose her toddler in a three bedroomed flat? he didn’t even know how he’d managed to lose her in such a small space.

“lettie?” he yelled, peering his head into his own room. the house was going to end up a mess, the male tossing the covers off his bed, moving things all around to try and find her.

“fuck,” he cursed. he ran his hands through his hair, trying to take a few deep breaths to actually think when he heard his phone vibrating in his back pocket.

he pulled the device out, expecting it to be one of his brothers or something. his eyes bulged out of his head when he saw it was you, a silent moment of panic rushing through tom.

he answered the phone as calmly as he could, very noticeably trying to force it.

“hey y/n, what’s up?”

“just checking in, what are you both up to?”

tom was never a particularly good liar, so now he was panicking even more than he already was, racking his brain for any activity he could make up.

“we’ve been watching a few movies, but she’s taking a nap right now.” he threw that in there just in case you asked him if you could speak to your angel.

“that sounds fun, i guess i’ll let you get back to it then.” he let out a breath of relief. “call me if you need anything.”

the pair said their goodbyes, tom slipping his phone back into his pocket afterwards with a huff. if he could fool you on the phone, he could definitely find an energetic four year old who probably wouldn’t be able to stay still in her spot much longer anyway.

“she can’t hide forever tom,” he mumbled.

»»——⍟——««

to say tom was stressed would be a huge understatement. three hours, three hours they’d been playing this same round of hide and seek yet tom still couldn’t find your baby.

you were due home from work within the next hour at least, and he was certain you’d kill him if scarlett wasn’t safe and in his arms on the couch like he’d told you she was.

his last attempt was to tell her the game was over. say it loud enough that wherever she was she’d hear him and come out.

he was standing in the hall in between his and her room, hoping that from this point he’d see her come out.

“okay, the game’s over,” he began. “scarlett, i need you to come out now.”

tears were beginning to well up in his eyes at the thought of how he was going to have to explain this to you. he heard a burst of laughter from the corner of her room, her head suddenly popping up out of the small basket full of teddies that she owned.

he felt a wave of relief wash over him, lifting her out of the box into his arms.

“thank god you’re okay.” he kissed her temple, letting his lips linger for a second as he let his heart rate calm down. “you scared me,” he sighed, holding her tightly to him.

she giggled again in his arms, tucking her head into his neck while he tried to grasp the fact that she was completely okay.

“i was just hiding tommy, you told me to.” she shied away slightly, part of her felt as though she was in trouble, and she had no way meant for it to come off like that.

“i’m not mad bub, just worried me for a second s’all.”

she hummed, nuzzling closer to the man. tom’s heart was finally starting to settle, giving him enough time to check the clock that rested on the wall, letting him know any minute now you’d be walking through that door.

“why don’t we watch a movie huh?” he asked. she nodded her head, wiggling in his arms until he placed her down on the ground on her own two feet.

“can we watch hercules?” she asked.

“of course, as long as you don’t mention any of this to your mummy,” he bargained. she held out her tiny hand for his to shake like a true deal was being made, something she must’ve picked up from the countless bets and deals you and tom made over the course of your friendship, it made him snicker.

“we have a deal, tommy.” he shook her hand with a grin, guiding her over to the couch where he began to set up the movie.

»»——⍟——««

“i’m home,” you announced, closing the door to the apartment behind you. you smiled at the sight of tom and scarlett curled up together watching a film, your heart soaring as they laughed together.

you couldn’t help but let your mind run and imagine that this is what it would be like to truly have a life with your roommate and your daughter, as a real family.

“hey, how was your day?” tom’s cheery voice snapped you out of your trance-like state.

“it was good, boring, but good.” you moved towards the couch, placing a kiss on top of your daughter’s head. “how was your day?”

the pair shared a look that went unnoticed by you, scarlett on the verge of letting out a giggle that tom definitely wouldn’t have been willing to explain.

he wasn’t planning on telling the truth and scarlett didn’t plan on even opening her mouth to tell her mother, so of course tom did the only thing he could; he lied.

“oh uh, just the same really,” he chuckled. “not much happened.”

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tom holland taglist → @seutarose @lmaotshollandd​​ @photoshopart15​ @hopelessly-harry​ @call-me-baby-gir1​ @icyhollands​ @sinisterspidey​ @siriuslyslyslytherin​ @musicalkeys-blog​ @itstaskeen​ @tpwk-grande​ @zspideyy​ @spideyssunshine​ @givebuckyhisplumsnow​ @lowkey-holland​ @hollandcrush​ @wizkiddx​ @sannie-san-shine​ @sonnydoesrandomshit​ @hopeless-romantic-baby​ @thehumanistsdiary​ @dummiesshort​ @itsbieberxholland​ @lillucyandthejets​ @piscesparker​ @bvttercupbby​ @mymilliefrommarketing​ @spideyspeaches​ @kujokura​ @l0velyevans​ @jess-holland23​ @felicityparkers​ @quxxnxfhxll​ @captainamirica​ @tomsirishgirlx​ @lou-la-lou​ @slutforsr​ @tayyx​ @bora-world​ @annathesillyfriend​ @lovableparker​ @whoeveniskendall​ @hollandswife​ @sunwardsss​ @dhtomholland​ @messedupmyfuckinglife​ @bi-lmg​ @londonspidey​ @katexrichardson​ @mrsholland96​ @tomhollandismyhusband1996​ @just-lost-inbetween-worlds​ @magicalxdaydream

[ronsonlywhore]

Draco Malfoy and Exist For Love by Aurora

❛ 𝗲𝘅𝗶𝘀𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲. ❜ draco malfoy x reader

summary: you lay your head on his shoulder, and in that exact moment draco feels like he lives for nothing else except you. like he exists for nothing else except love.

pairing: draco malfoy x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of murder and poisoning, drinking

a/n: oh to slow dance to this song with a lover at 3 am...any volunteers? / this songfic was written for my mini 200 follower celebration!

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

in draco’s eyes, you were heavenly; the true definition of an angel gifted to earth from the gods above and, like all gifts, he cherished and treasured you like his life depended on it.

loving you was like flying: exhilarating and always leaving him breathless. draco had never felt like this before; his heart knew that he couldn’t. to him, love was something he could admire, something he could long for, but never something he could have for himself. it just wasn’t in a malfoy’s nature to openly devote yourself to someone the way he wanted to devote himself to you.

and he loathed his own name for it.

☾ ⋆*·ﾟ:⋆*·ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

your touch was electrifying.

your hands had only grazed his for a moment while passing him an empty cauldron, your fingers there then gone, but those few seconds were enough to have draco floating on a cloud for the rest of the day.

he would never be able to explain the way you made him feel.

☾ ⋆*·ﾟ:⋆*·ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

draco felt like he was going to be sick.

“are you okay, malfoy? you look a little pale,” you ask worriedly as draco considers making a run for it. next to you, your friend giggles and murmurs, “malfoy’s always pale, (y/n).”

draco hears a yelp of pain from your friend, you having elbowed her harshly in the ribs. he finally gets the courage to look you directly in the eyes, the same eyes he dreams about, the same eyes that put the entire galaxy to shame.

you’re looking expectantly at him, your friend poorly trying to hold in her laughter. the fact that she’s probably silently judging him sparked something in draco. what was he cowering from? he was a malfoy, and besides, the worst thing you could do was say no.

“iwaswonderingifyoueverwantedtostudyinthelibrarywithmesometime?” draco mumbles. his throat feels dry and he can feel his heart beating in the pits of his stomach; he’s having a hard time swallowing. tongue-tied...that’s another thing he can add to the list of things you cause him to be. not that he keeps one, or anything.

you tilt your head to the side, exposing your neck to the red-orange glow of the sun. draco can’t help but let his eyes trail down your throat and over your collarbone, desperately trying to imagine what it would feel like to ghost his lips over your smooth skin, or breath in your sweet scent, the scent he’s smelled so many times before in his amortentia potion…

“malfoy? malfoy?”

draco breaks out of his trance, cheeks blazing as you say, “i’m sorry, er, i didn’t catch what you said about the library.”

“oh,” draco falters out. if he wanted to chicken out and never attempt to speak to you again, now would be the time to do it. no, he thinks. he promised himself he would go through with this.

he takes a deep breath and tries again, slower this time, “i just...i was wondering if you ever wanted to study with me in the library?”

“oh, are you looking for a tutor?”

your friend finally bursts out laughing, holding her charms book close to her chest in doing so. you ask her what she finds so funny, and she answers, “don’t you see, (y/n)? he’s asking you out.”

you look back to draco, eyebrows raised. “asking me on a date? to the library?”

draco quickly backs away, thinking about how horrible this idea was. why did he ever believe he had a chance with you, the living embodiment of pure bliss?

“never mind. it’s stupid, i know,” he mutters dejectedly as he walks off, planning to find a deep hole he can crawl into and never emerge from again.

he feels a hand on his shoulder and turns around, his eyes meeting yours once more; the same eyes that carry the universe all at once, the same eyes that the sun envies with all her might.

draco can hardly believe the words that come out of your mouth next.

“no! no, i think that sounds quite nice, actually,” you say as you pull back your hand. his skin burns at your touch, and aches when it’s gone.

“you do?” draco asks, surprised and not taking notice of your friend rolling her eyes behind you.

you nod and smile, continuing, “how about this thursday after lessons?

all draco does is nod, not finding the right words to say.

“great! it’s a date, then.” you walk back towards your friend, saying cheerfully, “see you around, draco.”

draco. you had said his name.

mesmerized: another thing he can add to the list. but he definitely doesn’t keep one, or anything.

☾ ⋆*·ﾟ:⋆*·ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

“remember when you asked me out?”

draco groans and throws a balled-up piece of parchment towards you. “please, don’t remind me.”

you laugh and try to dodge the flying paper as draco goes back to his essay, his quill scratching against the sheet. you sigh, resting your chin on your hand; draco fights the urge to look up and get hopelessly lost in the mere presence of you.

“you came up to me and said...what was it again?” you say as you scoot closer to him. he feels your lips brush over his cheek, your warm breath fanning his face.

draco turns to face you just as you lean in, but before you can give him a proper kiss, he playfully pushes your face away gently.

“i will never forgive you for assuming that i needed a tutor,” he sniffs dramatically.

you pounce on him, right there in the middle of the library, and draco doesn’t care if everyone is staring or whispering; he lets you pepper kisses all over his neck, anyways.

“i thought i would be forgiven by now,” you whisper into his ear as you prop your chin on his shoulder, your nose brushing against his jaw.

“your apology is still being considered,” draco breathes out before catching your mouth in an amorous kiss.

your kisses always took the air out of his lungs. or maybe that was his body telling him he needed to breathe, and stat.

you and draco eventually go back to your studying, but draco’s far from focused now. you have invaded his mind, taken over his thoughts, so that now all he can see and feel is you: a peaceful oblivion he wants to emerge himself in for eternity.

draco thinks back to a year ago, when he was just contented with your eyes lingering a second too long on him, pleased at just being able to sit next to you in potions. now, he has you; not just your persistent stares or your polite smile. you.

☾ ⋆*·ﾟ:⋆*·ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

draco swallows back a bit of bile as he loosens his tie harshly, his fingers getting caught in the intricate knot doing so. his footsteps echo in the empty corridor, and he wipes beads of sweat from his forehead, cursing himself for forgetting to meet you at the lake. now you’ll definitely know something’s up.

he walks through the great hall doors, the soft breeze doing nothing to calm his tension. he had only passed by the hospital wing, had only gotten a glimpse of weasley lying on the bed, unconscious and senseless, but that was enough to set his nerves on a frenzy. he did that. he poisoned weasley, even if it wasn’t directly, even if he didn’t mean to.

he had also cursed katie bell with that wretched necklace. a vexed pendant that wasn’t even meant for her, a bottle of venomous bottle of mead that wasn’t meant to be drank by anyone except him: professor dumbledore.

as draco trudges down to the lake, he finally comprehends how real all of this suddenly feels. he can’t kill dumbledore; he can’t kill anyone. he could barely bring himself to imperio bell, could barely handle gifting that bottle to slughorn. how could he ever be capable of murdering someone and watching them fall dead in front of him?

he tries to compose himself as he nears your silhouette sitting at the edge of the lake, your knees brought up to your chest, your arms wrapped tightly around your legs. draco comes to a stop behind you, berating you in his head for being this careless.

“what have i told you about sitting around like this, (y/n)?” draco asks as he plops down next to you, hoping you didn’t hear that small tremble in his voice. you jump as you turn to him, glaring as you say, “you’re late. and it’s not like death eaters are just going to sneak into hogwarts in the middle of the night and take over. hogwarts is the safest place on earth.”

draco’s stomach churns when he realizes that’s exactly what will happen in approximately a week from now, thanks to him fixing that bloody cabinet. remember, you’re doing this for your parents, draco thinks. for her.

“the stars are shining brightly tonight, are they not?” draco hears you whisper as you take his hand and start tracing patterns on his palm.

“i suppose,” he answers, his mind still on his impossible task.

“my mother used to say the stars shone for me,” you say, choosing to outline different constellations on his hand.

draco smiles slightly and turns to look at you. “that’s because they do.”

you lay your head on his shoulder, and in that exact moment draco feels like he exists for nothing else except you. nothing else except love.

☾ ⋆*·ﾟ:⋆*·ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

“father used to say love was nothing but an illusion, something that could fill your heart up but leave it miserably empty.”

“love is anything but, draco...it can be so many things and nothing all at once.”

draco’s back itches from the tree bark scratching at his back, but he stays in the same position and sips from the bottle of firewhiskey, anyways. it was his idea, after all.

he stares at you watching the whomping willow sway in the distance, your hand loosely grasping your own bottle. you had only taken a few gulps of the alcohol, but you looked drowsy and dazed already, the liquor quickly taking effect.

draco doesn’t know if it’s the quiet buzz resonating through his body that makes him do it, but he still asks, “please do tell of all the things love can be, (y/n).”

“long answer or short one?”

“both.”

you sigh contentedly as he watches you bring the bottle to your lips, observing the way your throat moves while swallowing the whiskey. you breathe in deep, then start, “love is like stumbling through life all alone, just passing through the motions, and then that one person walks into your life and suddenly you feel like you’re living, you’re alive…and i’ve heard it’s a very wonderful feeling.”

you pause, take another swig, and continue, “love is like being torn apart the minute you were only born, but that one person is the only one that makes you feel whole and complete...your other half, you could say.”

it finally clicks in draco’s head that you are his ‘one person.’

“love is selflessness, and loyalty, and euphoria. love is fearlessness, and spirit, and earnestness. love is the center of everything but also the center of nothing; we revolve around it but it also revolves around us.” you sigh, this time catching your breath.

draco can’t keep it from you anymore, not after what you told him everything that love could be, what love should be, what love will be.

“is love not keeping secrets?” he murmurs.

“yes, i suppose love is honesty, as well,” you answer back.

he responds to that by pulling back his sleeve and revealing his dark mark in its full, horrid glory. your eyes widen as you scramble back from him, your grasp on the bottle slipping and rolling away in the grass; draco’s heart drops as he realizes you’re scared of not only the mark embellished into his skin, but of him as well by default.

“what did you do?” you whisper, horrified.

“the dark lord was threatening my family...he was threatening to kill you, i had to!” draco’s voice breaks just a little bit; he prays to the gods that you’ll believe him, hopes you’ll see his reasons.

you don’t.

draco’s father was right; love can fill your heart, but only for a little while before leaving it miserably empty..

☾ ⋆*·ﾟ:⋆*·ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

draco’s mother is calling him over, and everyone turns to look at him with judging stares or pitiful expressions. even the dark lord is looking expectantly at him.

harry potter is dead. now everyone will have to choose their sides.

across the destroyed courtyard he can see his father glaring at him. he really doesn’t want to walk over there, doesn’t want to declare his loyalty to them, but what can he do? he has no one to live for on this side, no one to live for him.

he takes a deep breath and starts maneuvering the crowd, walking towards his parents. it feels more like walking into death’s open arms.

“draco.”

he stops, coming to a complete halt. he hasn’t heard his name being spoken in that soft tone in a while. he turns around and you’re there, reaching for him, and he can’t focus on anything except you. you say his name again, and it feels like white horses gliding over the waves or a rushing ocean in his veins.

“love is sacrifice, too,” you whisper.

draco doesn’t walk to his parents. he chooses to stay with you instead.

you, the one person who makes him feel alive and whole. you, the one person he exists for.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

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[typical-simplelove]

Bragger (M. Barzal)

A/n: This is based of Kelsea Ballerini’s Bragger and a very self-indulgent fic. Enjoy!! 

Warnings: Brief mentions of sex

Word Count: 5.3k (including song lyrics)

Italics are flashbacks

“So, Yn, tell us all about Mathew. What’s he like?” Candace, your maid of honor, asks.

You look at her puzzled. “What do you mean ‘what’s he like’?”

You were sitting at your bachelorette party; you didn’t want anything too big, so you decided on brunch with some of your friends, bridal party, and the WAGs.

“I mean, tell us all about him. How happy he makes you, how he drives you crazy but in the good way. Just brag about your fiance. Today is about you so whatever you want to share.

You smile just thinking about Mathew. Yeah, you could talk about him for days. His smile. The way his hair curls over his forehead. His arms. Dear Lord, don’t get started on his arms. You were about to start but remembered Liana, Mathew’s sister, was sitting with you as well. You didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. You also didn’t really want to brag about your relationship.

“Liana, are you okay with this? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” you say. You and Liana have grown quite close during your relationship with Mathew and especially close after the proposal.

Liana just smiles. “Go ahead, bride-to-be. It is your bachelorette party. You go talk about the man you love.”

“Well, then. What do you want to know?” You say with a smirk on your face.

He's got the look, he's got the touch He's got the eyes that make me crush And he's not one to make a scene But he deserves the spotlight He ain't from 'round this side of town But he fits in to every crowd And he knows how to do my body and my heart right

Mathew Barzal. Where do you even begin? The start? The first time you kissed? The way he walks around your apartment without a shirt on because (a) he refuses to do so and (b) knows it gets you going? The beautiful eyes that make you want to melt the minute you look into them? Just the fact that he knows exactly what to do to make you weak in your knees? The fact that Mathew knows exactly what to do to make the heat rush to your face and make you flustered? The list goes on and on.

“Tell us about something he does that annoys you but you secretly love,” Tessa, your high school best friend, says. She knows exactly what you’re going to say. You have spilled this to her multiple times. However, the fact that she’s asking makes your heart grow warm, best friends forever, right?

You pretend to ruminate over what to say. You, once again, look at Liana for reassurance. You doubt she wants to hear about her brother walking around half-naked. She nods and signals you to continue. You take a deep breath; you never did like talking about yourself. “Um, well, he walks around our apartment without a shirt on all the time. Not even in the mornings after we wake up. He just refuses to ever wear a shirt.”

Some of the girls sigh. Grace, Anders’ wife, and Sydney, Matt’s wife, look at you with understanding. Hockey players really hate wearing shirts and love showing off their chests. Grace and Sydney know exactly what you’re talking about.

“He claims it’s because he knows he can get a rouse out of me, which he can, but it’s also because I don’t think he likes to wear a shirt.”

“Mathew is very proud of the way he looks,” Liana adds and you smile knowing that she knows what Mathew is like. “When he used to come home before dating you, mom had to remind him to put on a shirt.”

You laugh. “I try to tell him to put on a shirt but he always just,” you pause reminiscing the memory. “He’ll just,” you feel the rush of heat to your cheeks as you try to put the words together.

“Even without Mathew here, he’s got you flustered,” Grace says with a warm smile. She loves seeing two young people hopelessly in love.

You shake your head playfully but put on a large smile. “He’ll do this thing with his face and then kiss me in a way that knocks out my breath, and I just forget about him putting on a shirt.”

“He just gets away with not wearing a shirt? He just kisses you and that’s it?” one of your bridesmaids questions. She smirks. “My husband has to do more than just kiss me for me to forget he’s walking around without a shirt.”

“Well, no wonder you’re pregnant,” you playfully retort. She knows you’re joking, and she smiles back at you.

“You’ve got me there, ynn.” The group erupts into laughter.

“Well, then, if we’re on the topic of kissing. I’m not going to ask what happens behind the doors for your own privacy. But, what’s it like kissing Mathew?” Lila, another bridesmaid, asks.

You melt at the thought of kissing Mathew. A wide smile erupts across your face.

“Clearly he kisses tremendously well,” Liana says, and her response shocks you.

You look at her and glare at her playfully.

“I’m just making an observation. Just the thought of kissing my brother puts a giant smile on your face.”

“Yeah, you’re not wrong there. I’m not sure if this is going to make sense but just here me out. When he kisses me, I never doubt he loves me. It doesn’t matter if it’s a small peck, a passionate kiss, or we’re making out. Sorry, Liana. There’s always love, and it’s almost as if it’s overflowing.”

“Oh, to be young and in love,” someone comments and everyone laughs.

“We do this thing where, assuming he’s not on a road trip, we always kiss each other good night, even if we’re angry. Yeah, I know the marriage advice. Don’t go to bed angry. Blah blah. Okay. But still. We’ll be angry and have yet to resolve the fight and just go to bed. We kiss each other goodnight angrily but the love is still there. I don’t doubt it. The way his lips linger on mine, and the gentleness despite being angry is there. I always go to bed knowing that we can sort out whatever problem we are having at the moment.”

“You guys are literally what I strive to have in a relationship,” Candace says. She wiggles her eyebrows as she says the next thing. “Any more kissing stories? Maybe some not so clean?”

You were taking a sip of your mimosa, and you choked on it. The heat immediately rushes to your face, and you know exactly what she wants. Just thinking about Mathew’s lips on anywhere else other than your lips has you turning to putty. You have to put down your glass for fears of dropping it and spilling it. These were nice glasses. You had them made that says ‘I Do Crew’, and you didn’t want to break them. Your reaction has everyone snickering.

“I hate to interject but if you’re going to talk about your sex life, I’m going to have to walk away,” Liana says. She can stomach talking about her brother kissing you but anything more than that was not something she was comfortable with.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’m comfortable talking about that, especially this sober.”

“Well, then, we have to think of something else. Come on ladies, we can figure this out.” Candace says. You really didn’t like talking about yourself. You don’t want to brag because you know that not everyone can have what you have with Mathew.

I don't wanna be a bragger But my man's a heart attacker Like McConaughey and Jagger Hotter than a Saturday night I can't help it that I flaunt him (All the time) I understand why you would want him (I don't mind) And you can keep up all the chatter 'bout my happy ever after 'Cause all that really matters is he's mine

Candace is about to say something but is stopped when you get a phone call. You look at the caller ID and see that it’s Mathew.

“Speaking of the lover,” Candace says, and you glare at her. “Just answer the phone. We’ll use your reactions as a conversation point.”

You pick up the phone and instantly have a giant smile on your face as Mathew says “Hi, baby.” The girls around you hoot and holler at your grin.

“Hey,” you say back to him.

“Wow, it sounds like you’re in a hockey locker room. How’s it going? I just wanted to check on you. I’m about to head out for my event.” Tito is taking Mathew and his friends to go golfing and then a dinner tonight for Mathew’s Bachelor party.

“Yeah, it seems like that sometimes. We’re doing well. We ate already and might get some dessert in a bit.”

“What are you guys talking about?”

“Funny enough, you.”

You can’t see him but you know that there’s a giant smirk on his face. “Oh yeah? What about me are you talking about?”

“Nothing in particular. Just everything I love about you. The way you walk around the apartment without a shirt. The way you kiss.”

“Well, make sure you tell them about that thing I do with my lips that makes you moan my name in bed.” You instantly feel the heat rush to both your face and core remembering exactly what Mathew is talking about.

“We’ve established that I wasn’t going to talk about things like that and also your sister is here, so.”

“Well, I’ll let you go and also Tito is yelling at me to get going. I love you, future-Mrs.-Barzal.”

“I love you, too, future husband.” You hang up the phone with a giant smile on your face and the girls around you all smile. “What?”

Sydney smiles back at you. “The giant smile on your face. Mathew makes you really happy.”

Your smile, if possible, gets wider. “Yeah, he makes me really happy, and I love him more than anything.”

“It’s obvious,” Candace says. “Also, what did he say to tell us that we established we weren’t going to discuss?”

You feel your cheeks warm up again. You ignore Candace’s statement and turn to the chocolate-chip muffin on your plate.

“Oh come on, Ynn. Tell us.

“Um, Liana, I’m sorry you have to hear this,” you begin hesitantly. She just looks at you. “He told me to tell you guys about that thing he does in bed that um,” Liana nods for you to continue. “Makes me moan and yell his name.”

The girls just stare at you.

“I’m not going to, though. That’s, um, a rather private matter, and I feel the need to express that I am not going to elaborate.”

Liana smiles. “Hey, at least my brother knows how to make you feel good, right?”

You look at her and are surprised that she’s not completely disgusted with what you said.

“Don’t worry. I’m here as your friend not Mathew’s brother.”

“Yn, we want more, please tell us more!” another one of the girls at the table says to you. You really didn’t want to brag about your relationship with Mathew. It was strong, loving, healthy, and made you extremely happy. There was something about Mathew, however, that made you want to talk about him and put him on display.

You smile. “What do you want to know?”

I've got his nights, I've got his name There ain't no shame in this girl's game If he was yours, you'd do the same Without apologizing

The girls wanted a story from the first year in your relationship. What story to tell them? There were so many. You first thought instantly goes to the first time you ever wore his jersey and went to one of his games. You begin telling the story.

You and Mathew had been dating for almost seven months before he invited you to a game. He wanted to make sure that you weren’t with him for his money or fame, and you understood that. You never prompted him or forced him to insert yourself into his life. You let Mathew decide when he wanted to introduce to his friends and teammates. You were fully content on watching Mathew from your television on game nights.

However, one night, Mathew decided that he wanted to have you at the game. It was a home game against the Rangers, a rivalry that has a long history in New York. He bought you your tickets and told you that your seats weren’t with the other WAGs per your request. You didn’t want to sit with them quite yet until you were ready, and Mathew respected that. Also, he had yet to tell anyone on the team he was seeing anyone.

When you left for work the morning of the game, Mathew was still there. However, when you got home, he wasn’t but in his place was a jersey. Not just any jersey, however, it was Mathew’s jersey with his number and last name on it. You looked at it and smiled; you couldn’t wait to wear it for him.

About an hour later, you put on the jersey and head to the arena. When you’re seated, you finally realize how close up your seats are. You looked around and were so giddy. You were going to be watching your boyfriend, whom you were sure you were in love with, play the sport he absolutely loves.

You watched the boys come out for warm ups, and your heart swelled. He was in his element, and he looked so happy. You loved how effortlessly he made the sport look, and you loved how he interacted with his teammates. You were so caught up in watching him that you didn’t notice that Mathew was watching you. It took a few moments, but you did eventually realize, and you both laughed. You remember someone, who you now know was Anders, smacking Mathew over the shoulder.

The Islanders won that night in a overtime, and you were beyond elated. Mathew told you that he’d meet you at your car and that he did.

When you saw him, you jumped into his arms and held him tightly. “You played so well, baby.”

Mathew pulls away for a moment and looks down at you. “Yeah, well I had the woman I love in the stands and my new good luck charm.”

You pull back for a moment. Were you hearing this right? Did Mathew just tell you he loved you?

“Before you start overthinking everything and scrunch up your nose in that really adorable way, let me just confirm, yes, I do love you. Yn, I love you.”

“I wasn’t going to overthink anything, you’re wrong.”

Matthew laughs. “You know, you’re avoiding the obvious.”

You knew you were. “I thought I was pointing out the obvious.”

“Do you need me to say it again, yn?” Mathew asks.

You pretend to ponder it. “Yeah, I do, Mathew.”

“Yn, I love you.”

You smile. “I love you, too, Mathew.” You remember him leaning down and kissing you. You remember that you both had to eventually separate so that you could drive back to your place. You remember that night that you fell asleep in Mathew’s arms hopeful of what can happen one day.

“Oh yeah, I remember that,” Grace says. You look at her puzzled. “Anders, Tito, and I think Sydney and Matt were there, too. Anders said that Mathew was staring at a girl, so we all followed Mathew secretly, and we saw you guys.”

“That’s right! That did happen!” Sydney remarks.

“So, you weren’t really shocked when Mathew finally introduced me to all of you?”

“No, we really weren’t. We didn’t quite see your face, but we knew Mathew was seeing someone.” Sydney answers.

“We finally realized what was behind Mathew’s stellar playing. Anders once came home from a roadie saying that Mathew was playing extremely well and wasn’t sure what to correlate it to. Now we know, it was you.” Grace says.

Your smile reaches ear to ear.

“That’s so cute and romantic, you guys. The two of you were made for each other.” Candace dotes.

You smile. You didn’t want to brag but yes, you and Mathew were made for each other. Yes, sometimes it was hard, but you knew that at the end of the day, you and Mathew loved each other to pieces.

“Hmm. Tell us about meeting Mathew for the first time. That has to be a story.” Tessa. You smile at the memory.

You were running late. The uptown 4 train in Brooklyn was having a bunch of delays, and you didn’t have time to walk to the closest 5 train station. The 4 train heading uptown to Brooklyn Bridge finally came and you jumped on. You breathed a sigh of relief as the train rolled away from the station. However, you became aggravated when it stopped in the middle of the tunnel, and an announcement came that the train would be moving shortly. Yeah, you knew what that meant. You could either be moving again in two minutes or two hours.

Twenty minutes passed, and your feet were starting to ache. You really wished that you wore flats on your commute and then changed into your heels at work.

“Did you want to sit?” someone asked. You remember looking up. “Your feet look like they’re killing you, did you want to sit? I don’t mind standing.”

“Oh, um, no it’s okay, I’m good.” You remember saying.

“No, really, I insist,” he insisted.

You shake your head. “I’m fine, I promise.”

“So, then, if I stand up, you’re not going to sit down?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

“No, someone else can sit,” you remember saying. You weren’t one to take up offers like this out of respect for the other person, and you were also very stubborn.

He chuckles and sighs. “Can you just sit? I don’t know why you won’t take up the offer of my generosity. I just don’t think you’re really all that comfortable.”

You hesitate.

“What if,” he proposes. “I got up and said I wanted to stretch my legs, and you just took up the opportunity to sit?”

You look at him and are about to say something, but he gets up and mumbles something about needing to stretch his legs. He gives you a knowing look (one that you’ve grown to love). and you know you are going to sit. So, you sit. You breathe a sigh of relief, and he laughs softly.

“See, was that so hard?”

You look at him and grumble. “No.”

He laughs and time passes quickly. It only took thirty more minutes after this for the train to start moving. You exited the Brooklyn Bridge - City Hall station ninety minutes after you would have liked. You were fast walking because you had to catch the Uptown 3 train.

“Hey, wait,” you don’t think this person is talking to you, so you keep walking. He taps your shoulder, and you finally turn around. “I know this is weird, but can I get your number?”

You remember looking at him shocked and he laughed at you.

“I’m Mathew, and there’s something about you that I want to get to know better.”

For some reason, that cheesy line made you smile, and you gave him your number. And, as they say, the rest is history.

“Wait, Mathew took the subway?” Liana asks puzzled.

“Yeah, he said that he was running late for meeting Tito, and he thought taking the subway would be faster. Clearly, it wasn’t.” You explain.

“Oh, Yn, give us more stories about you and Matthew,” one of the girls says.

You smile softly. You really weren’t sure what else more to say. You really didn’t want to brag about your relationship with Mathew. The constant theme in your relationship was that you kept private things private. Mathew was private in the sense of the media, and you were just a private person all around. But, something about today and the girls asking made you want to spill literally everything.

“I’d ask about the proposal, but Mathew has shared that a million times,” Candace jokes. “Just give us a random story that makes you laugh or smile.”

“I can give you that,” you say. You ruminate for a moment and begin.

Matthew was spending the weekend with you because he didn’t have any games, and they just came off of a two week road trip. You guys missed each other, and, at the stage your relationship was at, being without each other for even an hour was unbearable. This was not to say, though, that it was easy to be apart now. Only, now, you both have learned to find a way to make that pain ease a bit.

It was 12:34pm on a Saturday, and you were hungry for lunch. Mathew said he was taking you out for his favorite sushi place and told you to eat a light lunch. So, you were going to make some avocado toast. No, nothing fancy. The basic summary was that you had pumpernickel bread and a ripe avocado that might go bad soon.

You retreat from the warmth of Mathew, the pillows, and blankets to make some toast. You didn’t hear Mathew follow you; you actually didn’t think he was going to considering you told him you’d just bring it to him. You put the bread in the toaster and pulled out a knife to cut the avocado. You waited for a few minutes as the bread toasted. You looked out into the living room but didn’t see Mathew. You figured that he went to the washroom.

The toaster dings, and the toast pops out. You put the toast on the plate and begin cutting the avocado to spread onto the toast. Suddenly, you feel two very strong arms snake around your waist. It’s Matthew, who else?

“You cut your avocado weirdly,” he says, and you just look at him.

What? “What?”

“You cut the avocado weirdly.”

You snicker. “What is a not weird way to cut your avocado?”

“I don’t know, I just know you cut it weirdly.”

“Why can’t it be that I cut it normally, and you cut it weirdly?”

“Because, yn, you need a weird thing.”

You giggle. “Why do I need a weird thing?”

“Because all people in a relationship have a weird thing that only the other person in it knows.”

“So, you’re telling me that my weird thing is that I cut avocados weirdly?”

“Mhm, exactly.” Mathew takes a piece of toast with avocado already on it and bites into it.

“Despite that, though, you still make very tasty avocado toast, babe.”

“Well, if my weird thing is about cutting avocado, what’s you weird thing?”

“I don’t know, you have to figure it out on your own.”

You remember smiling and then kissing his cheek. Dinner that night did not disappoint, and Mathew brought you to the right restaurant.

“Did you ever figure out what his weird thing was?” Sydney asks.

“I mean, no? But, like, the way I cut the avocado is not weird, so I’m not sure what he was getting at. I told him that the way he ties his shoes was weird.”

“Not the skates?” Grace asks.

“No, not the skates. I told him that there was a difference between the skates and the shoes.”

The girls laugh. “How did you do that? Isn’t it the same?” Candace asks. “It is, but he wouldn’t tell me why the avocado cutting was weird, so I did this. He took me to the rink the day after I told him and forced me to watch him tie his skates like ten times. I guess it’s what I deserve.”

“That was a cute story. As my future sister-in-law, I want to say, I’m glad Mathew has you in his life.” Liana says.

You smile. “I can drink to that.” You all clink your glasses and take a sip.

You loved these girls and were so glad that you got to celebrate your Bachelorette with them. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

If he were a wine, he'd be the shelf at the top (Top) If he were a house, he'd be the end of the block (Block) Walked up to my heart and went, "Knock, knock, knock" So I've got to show him off

You got home that day at 4:00 pm and before Mathew. You were expecting that; Tito told you that Mathew and the boys would be out later only because their day started later. You went into your bedroom and changed out of your bride-to-be outfit and into your comfortable clothes. You took off your makeup and put your hair in a comfortable style. You were going to use the time to open some of the invitations you’ve received and mark down their attendance and meal choices.

Constantly, though, your mind went straight to Mathew. Every thought you had went back to Mathew but not in a sophomoric, conceited way. In a way that expressed your true love for him and how you felt. You didn’t like talking about your relationship with Mathew often; you enjoyed the privacy, and it allowed you to grow as a person both in the relationship and outside it.

However, this didn’t mean that you didn’t want to talk about Mathew all the time. You knew that if you didn’t control yourself, you’d be one of those girls that brought up her boyfriend at the most random times. You also knew that those types of girls were annoying, so you tried not to be like that.

That didn’t mean you didn’t let your mind wander to those places. Mathew was amazing. Sure, there were some flaws, but the great things about him enormously outweighed the flaws. Mathew had the most beautiful hazel eyes you have ever seen. Even if you had friends who hazel eyes, their eye color didn’t match Mathew’s, nothing could. He could be doing the most mundane task or thing and you’d immediately fall more in love. No question about it.

Physically? Mathew had the body of a Greek god and that drove your crazy. When he constantly walked around with a shirt on? You had to force yourself not to jump up and kiss him or run your hands down his broad, firm chest. When you both sat on the couch and he didn’t have a shirt on, you absolutely adored just running your hand up and down his abs as if it were a pillow. Yeah, you wanted to shout from your balcony that you had a hot boyfriend, no, fiance now, that you loved. You loved running your fingers through his hair. There was softness that was indescribable. His hair was rough but also soft at the same time. You constantly wanted to be touching him. All the time. You just needed to be close to Mathew at all times. You didn’t want to say you were clingy because you weren’t. You were just in love and wanted to be in the presence with him at all times. You loved to tell Mathew that you felt so lucky that you got to even be in the same universe as him. He laughed and said the fact that he got to even get your number was remarkable to him.

You were both crazy about each other and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

I don't wanna be a bragger But my man's a heart attacker (Oh, he is) Like McConaughey and Jagger Hotter than a Saturday night I can't help it that I flaunt him (All the time) I understand why you would want him (I don't mind) And you can keep up all the chatter 'bout my happy ever after 'Cause all that really matters is he's mine

Mathew got home that night at 9:32.

“Oh, you’re home early,” you said, and he came down and sat next to you.

Mathew smirked. “Hiding me from your boyfriend?”

Your face turns warm. “No, I just thought that you’d want to celebrate the last of your bachelor years with the boys instead of at home with me.”

“I celebrated my bachelor years already; now I’m coming home and celebrating what my future holds.”

You smile. “Look at you, Mathew Barzal; don’t you know the way into a girl’s heart.”

“I only want your heart, babe,” Mathew says and then kisses you. “How was your day with the girls?”

“It was nice. Oh! Did you know that Anders, Matt, Tito, Grace, and Sydney knew we were dating before you began officially hinting at it and introduced me?”

“What?”

“Yeah! I was telling them about the first time I went to one of your games, and Grace said they caught on to you staring at a girl. She was saying that they followed you secretly and saw us.”

“That’s, wow. I’m not sure how to respond.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter, now, does it? We are getting married.”

“That indeed we are, babe,” Mathew says as he reaches down and places a kiss on your temple. “So, what else did you talk about?”

“Wedding planning, you, other stuff, normal girl talk.”

“Did you just say ‘you’ as in me?”

You turn your head away bashfully. “Maybe.”

Mathew laughs his deep belly laugh. “What did you guys say? I mean, I know you were talking about me, but I didn’t think it was a lot.”

“They just wanted me to brag about you and everything. I told them about the story of when we first met, the avocado thing, how you don’t walk around with a shirt, the first time I went to one of your games.”

“Oh, speaking of,” Mathew takes off his shirt, and you laugh. Of course.

“They just wanted me to brag about my love and relationship with you.”

“You should, as bride-to-be.”

“How was your day?” you ask.

“Pretty good; it was fun, but I missed you.”

“Yeah, I missed you, too.”

“It’s funny, we can go a long time without seeing one another when I’m on the road. Don’t get me wrong, it’s quite unbearable but this honestly felt worse.”

“My take is that because we both know that we’re in the same city and can be with each other in probably under an hour. However, when you’re on the road, it’s less hard because you know that you have to be there.”

“Look at you, my intellectual fiance. Our children better get all your traits.”

“I think they should get your looks.”

“I don’t think so; no no.”

“I’m not arguing with you on this. How about a good mix?”

“Perfect, babe.” Mathew kisses you. “Do you want to go to bed? Maybe I can do that thing to you I was referencing earlier?”

The heat instantly rushes to your face, and Mathew instantly knows he’s got you in the palm of his hands. The way your eyes bulged out and swallowed deeply, Mathew just knew.

“I’m going to take that as a yes,” he picks you up and carries you to bed.

Yeah, you didn’t want to brag about your relationship with Mathew, but he was too amazing not to.

I don't wanna be a bragger But my man's a heart attacker (Oh, he is) Like McConaughey and Jagger Hotter than a Saturday night I can't help it that I flaunt him (All the time) I understand why you would want him (I don't mind) And you can keep up all the chatter 'bout my happy ever after 'Cause all that really matters is he's mine

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[superhero--imagines]

Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here!

A/N: I think The next post will be the last one for this series!

“Did you...have fun tonight?” The way Dick haltingly asks causes laughter to bubble out of your mouth

“I can say that was nothing like any family dinner I’ve ever seen-“

And if that isn’t the truth, for one - even though you’ve heard of all of Bruce Wayne’s adopted children, you didn’t think there would be so many.

Dick’s the oldest, well officially anyway. Barbara Gordon, as in Commissioner Gordon’s daughter, was at dinner too. Apparently she and Dick had a brief stint where they dated. You’re guessing it was before Dick realized he likes boys - or maybe he likes both? You’ve never expressly asked him about using sexuality.

He’s got three little brothers, the youngest and the second oldest seem to have the highest predisposition towards violence, mostly to each other. And then the second youngest, Tim, he seems to be barely held together, mostly through caffeine and anxiety.

Cassandra from class was there too, as well as Stephanie, which was nice to see. They ducked out halfway through, which should have been your queue to duck out too.

Unfortunately you didn’t, which resulted in a rather poorly placed tomato soup stain at the edge of your dress’s hem.

“I like your brothers though” you say with a smile. You did like his brothers. The youngest, Damian, stared at you for seven very long minutes, before saying-

“How do you feel about animals?” When you told him you loved them he seemed pleased. Also, as a college student, you vibe with Tim. Though you do think someone should cut him off and have him switch to herbal tea. Jason seems cool enough, he just looked at you for a second before giving Dick a wolffish grin.

“Alfred was nice too, and it was fun seeing your- uh...Bruce again” You almost called Bruce his Dad. Bruce is nice, but he’s still a bigot. It was nice meeting Alfred, who showed you many pictures of a nine year old Dick Grayson, most of which were him doing acrobatics around the house. Honestly you thought it was adorable, but you put an end to it since Dick was blushing so fiercely that you thought he might combust.

It really was a lot of fun.

You shiver, the cold night air brushing against your bare arms. You’re standing in front of your building, saying your final goodbyes until you scamper off to your apartment, getting ready for another week of classes.

“Here, take my jacket-“ He’s already tugging it off. Before you can protest, it’s settled over your shoulders. The effect is almost instant, tendrils of warmth seeping into your shoulders and upper body.

It smells like him, you think.

Like- like his expensive cologne, with notes of amber and moss- but also like soap, like clean laundry, and something else, something sweet.

“Cotton Candy” You murmur to yourself. He probably eats it by the gallon sized bag , you think with a giggle.

“T-thank you-“ your eyes trail from the sleeve of his suit jacket to Dick, who’s got a pink tint fanning across his face, blue eyes flicking from the ground to your eyes.

“Thank you for coming with me tonight, and being so kind and considerate and lovely” and then Dick does something completely unexpected, he leans in closer and presses a kiss to your forehead. Your heart leaps in your chest, his sickly sweet Cotten candy scent floods your senses.

You would just have to tilt you head up slightly to catch his lips in yours. He smells so sweet, it almost makes you dizzy. It’s like being drunk, you think.

You want to smell him more.

“Thank you for being so accepting.” His words are like a bucket of cold water being dumped over your head. You feel like you’ve sobered right up.

“Of course, we’re friends aren’t we?” You offer Dick a smile, but you know it’s probably strained. You were so caught up in the moment, you forget he’s already in love with someone.

All of his feelings, all of his kisses, they’re reserved for Nightwing.

“I’ll see you in class tomorrow” You call out, before walking into your building, feeling Dick’s lingering

So you like Dick.

F*ck.

You’re on the balcony of your apartment, nursing a glass of hot tea in the late night- or would it be early hours of the morning? You can make out the sky beginning to lighten into a lighter blue. Great so you stayed up all night thinking about your feelings.

Your body is going to love you for this.

How did this even happen? Were you just so focused on not getting a crush on either of his sisters that you didn’t see this coming. Ugh why dick of all people? Yeah, sure he’s got those sparkly eyes, and that permanent rosy blush, not to mention that lopsided grin-

Okay so you know why you’re falling in love with him. But there’s no point in nursing these blooming feelings not when-

“Hey do you have any sugar?” The masked crusader asks from beside you. That dazzling smile that makes people everywhere swoon aimed at you.

No point in nursing feelings for Dick, when the object of his affections is standing next to you, drinking earl grey out of your pink “Namaste in bed” mug.

“Or not- no big deal, I love my hot leaf juice with or without sugar.” He adds hastily, taking a loud sip as if to show you how much he’s enjoying your hospitality. You must have let your annoyance get to your face. You sigh, it’s not his fault that Dick loves him.

You’re the outsider here.

“So what are you doing out so late?” You ask, just wanting to make some small talk. But Nightwing lights up like you just offered him a million dollars. He’s so friendly it’s almost annoying, not unlike another certain dark haired golden boy you know.

“I’m always up, fighting crime, patrolling the streets-“ you never realized but being a vigilante is kind of a lot of work huh? You wonder if Nightwing has a day job, he looks so young though- maybe he’s still in school.

“The real questions is why are you still up?” His question is punctuated with a slurp of his tea.

“Just thinking I guess” you shrug, taking a sip of your own tea. You’re not about to tell Nightwing you realized you have feelings for his boyfriend.

“Thinking about the person you love?” It feels like you were just struck by an arrow. Nightwing’s mouth stretches. “No way, I was right?” You can almost picture the sparkle in his eyes behind his domino mask. You wonder what color eyes Nightwing has.

Probably a boring brown.

“Well who’s the lucky individual?” Noting your hesitance, Dick starts to get a little nervous. It hurts a little to think you don’t return his feelings. But there’s something about the shy look on your face, the way your eyes avert to your cup of tea, that’s just hopelessly adorable. What he wouldn’t give to have you look at him that way.

And then, a terrifying thought occurs to Dick.

“Don’t tell me you’re in love with Bruce Wayne?” He’s got absolutely no chance if you’re into older men. No unless you’re willing to wait ten years or so.

Then the most amazing thing happens- your mouth opens and laughter spills out. He’s heard you laugh, but never like this. So loud, and almost desperate.

And then, you do something else he’s never seen before. Somewhere along the way those loud laughs transformed into equally loud sobs. Your mouth pinched tight as tears spill from the corners of your eyes.

A hand curls over your eyes in an attempt to cover your face. This is mortifying, you’re basically crying in front of your romantic rival, completely vulnerable.

You’re about to mutter out an excuse, how you’re not usually like this, that you must be close to your period or something. When you feel a pair of arms wrap around your shoulder, your face pressed against Nightwing’s chest.

“It’s okay, everything’s going to be okay” he murmurs reassuringly, his glove covered hand rubbing soothing circles into your back. And even though you were on the edge of recompsure, you’re thrust back into despair. Your sobs leaving you almost breathless as Nightwing continues to hold you.

“Tell me what’s wrong, so I can help” Dick whispers. Whatever it is, it must be serious. He’s never seen you cry, not when you were a hostage in that bank robbery, or held at gun point at that restaurant, not even when Damian was basically integrating you all night.

“I love someone, who’s never going to love me back” you manage between sobs, and Nightwing only shushes you. His hand traveling to your hair. Cradling your head against his chest.

He smells so good, like amber and moss, and something sickeningly sweet- like cotton candy.

He smells like Dick.

And that seems to soothe you a bit, along with Nightwing’s gentle warmth.

“Don’t worry, everything’s going to be fine, I promise”

“Man, and I thought things were going really well between you guys” Stephanie says, her hand threading through her golden curls, head tilting back so it rests against the back of his couch.

“Yeah, me too” Dick admits with a sigh, he’s sitting with his knees propped up on the floor, his back against the wall.

Cassandra doesn’t say anything, her eyes are trained on the coffee table, their masks collectively strewn across it.

“So what are you going to do?” Stephanie asks, and Dick sighs again.

“What can I do honestly, they love someone else” he shrugs, he plays it off like it’s not a big deal. But the thought of your with someone else... it makes his stomach hurt.

“Just because she loves someone else right now...doesn’t mean she will forever” Those are the first words Cass has uttered all night, and Dick and Stephanie are both looking at her with wide eyes.

Stephanie’s already hyping him up, saying there’s no way their Dick’s going to lose to some no-face-extra, like your love is some sort of competition to be won.

And Cassandra’s only encouraging her, with energetic nods and the occasional ‘exactly’

But all Dick can think about is the way you felt in his arms, and how small you seemed as sobs wracked through your entire body. How deep your sadness felt, like he might be sucked in any moment too, tears falling from beneath his domino mask.

He hates whoever it is that made you feel that way. If it was him- if you loved him instead, he’d make sure you were never sad, he’d give you everything he was and everything he had if it meant you might smile for him.

He doesn’t want to change your mind, your feelings don’t work like that. All he knows is that he loves you- and what you need right now, is a friend. Someone who-

“Just wants to see them happy” Dick mumbles.

Taglist: @adenspolaroids @libraryoffandomsuniverse @jeneeangella @chyume @masked-mushroom

[mammons-tax-returns]

comforting you about your body insecurities pt. 1

beelzebub, mammon, lucifer

:) ! first post back!! (rest of the brothers coming later)

🧋MALE MC🧋

Lucifer is a very attentive demon, despite being busy with his nose shoved in a stack of papers around the clock

He really does find you wonderful, both just to relax with and to admire.

And he’s known that you piqued his interest ever since you appeared before him in the stuco room. And this is LUCIFER. He normally doesn’t give any human a second glance. Unless ur some powerful and dangerously talented sorcerer with white hair 🤧but that aside

Tonight, he gets a break from Diavolo’s workload because there is yet another ball being held at the castle.

He sprays a faint but expensive cologne on his skin, quietly hoping that you would like and comment on it so he could respond with some flirty line. That would be nice, he thinks.

Then, he’s taking long strides leading out of his bedroom, and heading over to yours beside the kitchen, where he hears his siblings bickering over the best fruit.

He knocks on the door first, waiting for a response that never comes. He only hears your favorite song from within.

He calls your name, only becoming more confused the longer the silence grows

When he pushes open the door, he’s nearly relieved to see you standing in front of the body mirror, fixing the the collar of your outfit. You turn to look at him offer a smile. “Hey, Luci. You’re punctual, as usual.”

He hums under his breath in response. A silent “i know”. He pads over to you, placing a hand on your hip affectionately. “You look good enough to eat, handsome. Asmodeus may have his moments but he certainly knows how to dress anyone with anything.”

You look at your own eyes in the reflection, not able to respond entirely. Lucifer means well, you’re sure of it. He doesn’t know that the past hour of preparation for the ball was spent scowling at the parts of you that you could never quite enjoy entirely.

Lucifer looks questioningly at your expression from the mirror. “y/n? Is something the matter?”

At that, you snap back to reality and look back at him. “Huh? Oh... Right— Sorry, I just,” you trail off, at a loss for words. Was this the right time to mention your thoughts, before a ball? “It’s nothing, just lost in my thoughts, I suppose.”

Lucifer’s eyebrows knit in the way that they tend to do when he worries. “Mind sharing? I’d love to sit and listen.” His hands slide around your waist until he’s hugging you, and you catch a whiff of his cologne which makes you melt. Once again you wonder if this relationship was something you deserved.

“Luci...”

“Don’t give me that, lovely. I said I’d like to listen, no?” As you turn your head away, he takes the opportunity to rest his head on the crook of your neck.

You sigh, smiling hopelessly. You hate to admit it, but his response makes you feel jittery on the inside. “It’s silly really, I just wasn’t feeling myself just now. The clothes are amazing! But...” You know exactly what you’ll say next, but the words feel venomous in your mouth. “I’m wondering if Asmodeus understands how wasteful it is to put them on me, you know?”

Lucifer is at a loss, and his heart aches at your words. “Oh dear... Well that’s no good. I can’t have my gorgeous lover worrying himself over something that’s so far from the truth.”

You are already aware that Lucifer will always support you no matter what, and the thought is both heart warming and bothersome. “Yeah, yeah, Lucifer... I’ve heard it all alr-“

“Then what do you not understand?” Lucifer cuts you off promptly and confidently. “Do you really believe that I’d sugarcoat this? Anything?”

You swallow thickly. “N-... No. You wouldn’t...”

“Good. That’s a good response.” He places a sweet kiss on your cheek, ruby eyes flitting up to your own gaze in the mirror. “I’m almost afraid of other demons trying to steal you away in such a dashing outfit, to be honest. Enjoy yourself, but if any of my brothers try anything, I swear...”

You laugh a little, running a free hand through his hair and noting how he almost sinks into your touch. Almost like a cat. “Thank you, Lucifer. For everything.”

Lucifer kisses your hand softly. “You are perfection, darling.”

You look forward to slow dancing alongside the eldest brother now, losing yourself in the music. Lucifer was right, there was really nothing to worry yourself over.

Mammon, unfortunately, had to cancel date night plans for the weekend for a modeling gig.

You were disappointed, but not mad at him. He told you in advance, offered to make up for it, and usually tries his best to uphold his promises.

He offers to bring you with him, guilty at the thought of your alone in your room.

You don’t know whether to accept it or not. Would you fit in on a set full of gorgeous, picture-perfect demons?

Mammon has his hand on the back of his neck, nervous that you’re too angry at him to want to say yes.

To his delight, you smile and agree to go with him. Maybe, this way, he can avoid others flirting with him when they know that his boyfriend would be in the room.

At first, it makes you feel a little bit happier seeing Mammon light up with joy after seeing him pout like a puppy moments ago.

The day has come that you step onto the modeling floor. The photographers and staff know you well due to Mammon’s insistent bragging about you and your relationship. Clutching your D.D.D. anxiously, you make your way over to Mammon, who is already posing for a camera under bright studio lights.

You keep to the shadows as you watch him intently. Mammon is well known for his idiocy, but he is one handsome devil.

The evil snickering of two demons sound behind you, to which you ignore. You were too nervous to actually move, anyways.

Whatever... It doesn’t concern me... Right?

The giggles don’t stop, and you can’t help but listen in on their whispers. It sounds as if they purposely spoke louder than normal just to bother you.

“Look at how his eyes are shining... Obsessed with Mammon, much?” Oh boy. It really seems like they’re talking about...

“Let’s talk about those clothes, though... Are you kidding me... Does the human world really have that low of standards— or is this the bottom of the barrel.” At that, the two burst into a fit of cackles.

Luckily, a photographer hisses at them, irritated with the noise breaking his concentration. They quiet down, but continue to berate you in ways you had never even considered.

You’re sweating bullets now, itching to use your hand to wipe the oncoming tears of embarrassment. You blink them away, and don’t notice that your boyfriend is now finished with his shoot.

You tense upon seeing him speaking to the camera tech. Your heart nearly jumps out of your throat. The last thing you needed was him seeing you cry right now. He’d be worried sick.

Not even bothering to excuse yourself, you slip into the bathroom and can only focus on the laughter of the other demons behind you. The sound causes you to shake slightly as you shut the door behind you.

There is more than one stall, so you briefly worry that someone would come in and find you bawling your eyes out in the middle of a semi-professional setting. You sigh heavily and turn the sink on to wash your face.

The more you stood in front of the sink rubbing your face, the more vividly you remember the rude comments made about you. Could they have been true?

With a troubled look, you sneak a glance at yourself in the mirror.

You didn’t think that your clothes were particularly “bad”... They said so much, and it’s all coming back like a vicious and cruel tsunami.

No matter what you do, you can’t seem to stop crying.

“Oh y/n!!~ Where are ya’ at?” Mammon crashes through the door, hands on his hip with a toothy and closed-eye grin.

Thinking quickly, you reach over to grab a hand towel and press your face into it. “H-Hey, Mammon, you looked good out there...”

Mammon must have picked up on your wavering tone, because he pauses.

You’re frozen on the spot when he places a hand on your shoulder, although you can’t see him through the towel.

“Uhh... What’s up with you? Don’t tell me that you’re...” It’s too late to react when he pushes the towel aside to find your teary eyes.

“Wh-What?!” His heart drops immediately. “What’s wrong babe?! Are you like... I dunno hurt or something?!”

You exhale shakily, still trying to calm yourself. “Those models out there are just... A little too honest about me, I s-suppose... But it’s really fine. I just... I don’t know... I guess I just needed a minute to... Freak out a little?”

“Honest? What the hell do you—“ A sudden feeling of recognition pulled at his features. Truth be told, he knew those demons personally, having worked with them before. Then the guilt of knowing exactly what happened began to eat away at him. “Oh...”

You shifted, wishing that he would drop the subject. This was getting much too embarrassing to bear, and the way his eyes drooped with sadness made your stomach churn. “Mammon. I-I’m serious, I’m okay—“

Mammon’s arms surround you like a sturdy, calming veil.

“I know you’re not, y/n!” Mammon had no desire to listen to you pretend to act unbothered. “I don’t know what they’ve told you, but I can guarantee that I have been given comments just as bad as those- and I’m The Mammon.”

You grip onto his shirt, avoiding making eye contact with him. “But... That’s the thing Mammon. I’m not nearly as confident or perfect as you.”

Mammon holds you tighter, voice softening drastically. “Don’t you think that’s exactly what I think of you when you comfort me on my bad days?”

A pool of warmth starts to seep from the depths of your chest. And your furrowed brows start to relax. “Really..? You mean it?”

“y/n, you are precious to me, and all of my crazy ass brothers. And there is no way in hell that I’ll allow some scum of the world get in the way of realizing how flawless you are.”

Beel wants nothing more than to spend every second of the day with you. And Belphie.

But unfortunately, most of his time is spent in the gym, if not the kitchen.

So he asks you if you would like to start working out with him at the gym, or even if you were just interested in hanging around and nothing more. He just wanted your presence.

The idea itself made your heart swell. But after a bit of thinking, you weren’t so sure. You’ve never been to a gym in Devildom before, but you were sure it wasn’t very different from human gyms.

It would be filled with confident and toned bodies that would put you down without even trying.

And as much as you wanted to be there with Beel, you weren’t ready for the prospect of the nasty looks you’d receive sitting beside the sixth-born who is a perfectly sculpted athlete.

After all, he seemed a bit too good for you, as it seemed in your head.

Beel wonders why you turned him down. Had he done something to upset you?

He’d have to get down to the bottom of it, lest he regret ignoring your behavior.

To do this, he takes a day off from the gym, thinking that the answer to this situation would be to spend time together. Smiling to himself, he clutches a bag of sweets to his chest.

y/n has got to love this, he thinks excitedly.

Knocking once, he can barely keep himself from barging in and tearing into his baked goodies. “y/n, I’m here. Wanna share these cookies with me? There’s also pound cake and cupcakes... The mini ones with enchanted apples on them.”

His smile falls a little when there’s a long note of silence. “y/n?” He questions.

“Oh! Uh... Sorry, Beel... Maybe another day. I’m studying for that final right now.” Beel knows you sound sincere, but something about this response seems off.

His heart sinks a little, feeling a little embarrassed after being rejected. He hadn’t expected this.

“Ah... Are you sure?”

“...”

There’s a silence from the other side of the door, and the sixth born starts to genuinely worry.

Truth be told, you had been weeping alone looking through images of famous demon athletes that advertised the same gym that Beel attended regularly. It was a dangerous thing to do, but how could you look away?

You take a glance at yourself in the mirror. your eyes were barely puffy. A bit red too. But overall, nothing seemed very different. Maybe— Just maybe, he wouldn’t even notice.

“Hello? You in there?”

You stiffen at the sound of his voice.

“Coming!” Hopping to your feet, you rush to the door and open it.

“Oh man, I was starting to get antsy smelling this bag... Let’s hurry and dig in.” His eyes are trained on the food in his hands, and his mouth is watering.

“Oh, Beel... You have some drool again!” You lightly scold him and wipe the corner of his mouth with a napkin from the table right beside the door.

At that, he finally gets a good look at you.

“Oh, thank y—... ou...” He trails off instantaneously. “Your eyes...”

You sigh and bow your head sheepishly. “Agh... I should’ve known you’d catch me. It’s not anything serious, I just was... I was watching a sad movie is all.”

His eyebrows knit together. “So were you studying or watching a movie?”

He caught me.

He pushes forward, closing the door behind him and taking your hands in his. He leaves the bag abandoned on the floor.

“y/n... What’s been up with you lately? You’re seriously not yourself.”

Your face flushes, and you sigh. Your throat suddenly feels tight. “Uh... That’s...”

He’s noticed this entire time. I’m an idiot.

“Listen, Beel...” You squeeze his hand. “I’ll tell you because I know that if I don’t, you’ll be worried sick.”

He nods hurriedly, heart rate increasing.

“I guess I just...” The words struggle to make their way out. “I don’t understand how-how someone like you; handsome, kind, and strong could end up with...” You pause, starting to tear up. “With someone like me.”

Beel takes a moment to process your situation.

And when he does, his head starts to spin, and his heart feels heavy like a boulder.

“y/n... What are you even thinking?” Is all he manages to whisper. He pulls you into a tight, comforting hug and sniffles.

“Beel—“

“You mean literally more to me than anything or anyone else.” He says firmly. “I don’t know what part of you you’re so hung up on, I couldn’t even imagine there being any reason to be.”

“You don’t have to—“

“I do.” He cuts you off firmly. If he didn’t, you may try to deny his definite truth. “y/n, I know i’m all about food and training... I’m sorry I don’t know how to make you realize how wonderful you are.

But I’d like to learn that with you. Is that okay?”

Your tears finally fall, soaking through his tank top.

“Of course... I’d love that.”

[miyanom]

PUT YOUR HEAD ON MY SHOULDER

MASTERLIST | PAIRING: JEAN KIRSTEIN X F!READER

synopsis: studying with jean quickly changes to something else, until the boy blurts out the first thing that comes to his head. and suddenly, making out is the last thing on either of their minds.

genre: fluff, suggestive, modern au

warnings: slight nsfw, mentions of sex, making out?

notes: lowkey inspired by me and one of my friends laughing at the song. anyways, that intro literally sucks so much omg I’m sorry you have to read that mess.

It was pretty easy to ignore the background music from Y/N’s phone when she had Jean kissing his way down from her jaw to collar bone.

Y/N wasn’t given the chance to even turn off the playlist she had on while studying, when reading changed to laying beneath Jean, engaged in a make out session, in just a matter of seconds.

“I love you,” he whispered against Y/N’s neck, his breath tickling her slightly as she shifted in his arms.

Jean sat back to unbutton his shirt, while Y/N stared up at him, her face heating up as anticipation ignited in her core.

Pushing herself up, Y/N grabbed onto Jean’s unbuttoned shirt with one hand, using it to pull him back into her kiss.

A kiss much more passionate than the ones they had shared earlier in the night.

Jean gently laid her back against the covers, one of his hands snaking between their bodies to sneak beneath her waistband while her hips raised bucked upwards at the contact.

Though as soon as he did, the next song started playing, and Y/N was breaking away from the kiss with laughter escaping her slightly swollen lips.

Out of all times for it to play, Put Your Head On My Shoulder had to play now, while Jean had one hand in her pants.

With a groan, Jean pulled his hand out of Y/N’s pants, his head falling into the crook of her neck, leaving a soft kiss on her bare shoulder as she kept laughing.

“Why is this even in your library?” Jean complained, rolling off his girlfriend to lay by her side.

“It’s a good song, when you aren’t doing this...” Y/N turned her head, staring at Jean with the grin he loved so much. “That was certainly one way to ruin the mood. Better than when Sasha walked in on us that one time.”

She was right. The moment could probably be salvaged now, but when Sasha had walked in on the two of them having sex in Eren’s bathroom at a party he had thrown for their friend Armin, it was just too embarrassing to continue.

Jean reached out to brush a strand of Y/N’s hair out of her face, pushing himself up slightly on his other elbow as he stared down at her.

Y/N looked up at him. “I love you,” she said.

Jean stayed quiet, causing Y/N to shift uncomfortably under his gaze. His hazel eyes were still focused on her, but she couldn’t help the concern bubbling in her chest as the song continued to play in the background.

“Jean-?”

“Marry me.” He blurted out.

Sure, they were young, still in university and focusing on their education now more than ever. But they had been together since high school, Y/N was his first everything, like he was hers.

Jean was honestly, hopelessly in love with Y/N. To the point he couldn’t see a future with anybody but her.

It was no secret he had been planning to propose for awhile, all their friends knew about it, he was surprised word didn’t get back to Y/N already. (Connie had a big mouth, so the fact that he didn’t say anything was a huge relief.)

The only thing that had stopped him from popping the question before now, was that he was waiting for the perfect moment. But waiting and waiting had led to months passing by with the ring collecting dust in his bedside table drawer.

Underneath him, Y/N laid there with wide eyes, her face heating up, but for a different reason than the lust she felt earlier on. Marry me, did he really say that? She found herself asking in her head, unsure if her mind was playing tricks on her or if the love of her life had really proposed.

A few minutes of silence passed, before Jean’s grin fell, a frown forming across his visage in its place. Suddenly all too aware that Y/N might have never even thought about marriage as much as did in her presence. “Sorry, that was too-”

“Yes, Jean.” Y/N beamed, her arms wrapping around his neck to stop him from moving away. “I’ll marry you.”

“Yes?” Jean repeated, blinking in surprise. He quickly leaned in, pecking her lips happily as she grinned.

Y/N brushed a hand through his hair, unable to stop her giggles even as he stared down at her in confusion.

“You did not just propose to me with “Put Your Head On My Shoulder” playing in the back.”

Jean couldn’t help but laugh at that when he moved to reach into a drawer on the bedside table. “It’ll be a story for the ages, angel,” he told her, popping open the small velvet box. “I can hear Sasha and Connie laughing about it even now.”

Y/N crawled over to sit behind him, her arms wrapped around his torso, and her chin rested on his shoulder after she kissed his cheek.

Pulling one of her hands off his chest, he carefully slipped the ring onto her finger, too happy to notice the gasp that left Y/N’s mouth as she rushed to sit by his side so she could get a better look.

“This… this is your mother’s ring.” Her wide eyes flickered between the diamond and Jean’s loving eyes. She had met Jean’s mother numerous times, the visits becoming more often after the couple finally moved into an apartment together, she could recognise the ring anywhere.

Jean sheepishly averted his gaze. “Yeah… she’s been asking me how long it’ll take before I propose.”

Y/N bit her bottom lip as she stared down at the ring, her heart pounding loudly, happily in her chest. Butterflies fluttering in her stomach like she was reliving the day Jean had first said “I love you” to her.

“You like it, right?”

“Of course!” Y/N answered. “I love it. I… I have to thank your mother for letting you give it to me.”

Jean chuckled. “She’ll just be happy you said yes.”

Turning around, Y/N made eye contact with Jean, noticing how red his face had gotten since he slipped the ring onto her finger.

Y/N placed a hand against his cheek, her fingers gently rubbing over his stubble as she smiled softly, repeating the words she had been saying all night. The words she would get to tell him for the rest of their lives.

“I love you.”

TAG LIST (JOIN HERE)

@filipinhce @dai-tsukki-desu @may-machin @answer-the-sirens @ley-writes @sashaisangel @french-girl-online @megumiisee @wonhyuksstuff @milk-n-cuwukies @jeanbabygirl

[wlntrsldler]

Tell Me That You Love Me (James Potter x Reader)

PROMPT: James and Y/N are friends with benefits. She fell in love with the Gryffindor, who’s too busy being in love with Lily Evans to realize. After a night of drinking, the truth comes out. 

WARNINGS: mentions of smut (not detailed), underaged drinking, sexual tension, angst? 

WC: 3.5K+ (sorry, i got carried away)

HP MASTERLIST

This is my submission for @heloisedaphnebrightmore‘s 1K follower challenge! Congratulations, love! 

Trope: Unrequited Love

“Stop sending me mixed signals.”

“Can you kiss me? One last time?”

pt. 2

-

tell me that you love me (j.p one shot)

You watched from the corner of the room as the entire Gryffindor Common Room erupted in laughter as the Marauders told the story of one of their infamous pranks. James was positively glowing, dancing under the moonlight that managed to sneak through the curtains. In his hand was a cup, that no doubt contained his alcoholic concoctions that nobody but he dared to try. His eyes closed in glee as he threw his head back in laughter, watching Sirius mimic the way Snape looked after their successful prank. 

You smiled behind your cup, truly enchanted by the boy you found yourself longing for. When you said yes to your agreement, you thought your biggest worry would be an unexpected pregnancy, caused by two teenagers who were too careless for their own good. You thought your biggest worry would be the teasing from the rest of the Marauders— which still happened, just not to the extremity that you expected. You thought that your biggest worry would be some awkward tension after the first time between you and James, that you knew would subside eventually. 

You never thought that you’d fall in love— fall so stupidly, irretrievably, and hopelessly, in love with the boy who loved another. 

You watched his eyes follow Lily as she walked across the room, chatting away with her friends about her latest Potions assignment. James didn’t even try to conceal his affections for her. He always loved her so loudly, as if his silence would mean he loved her any less than he actually did. You just had to sit back and watch as her rejections only fueled him to try harder. It was somewhat admirable, though you knew that you would’ve found it more endearing had you not been in love with him. 

James finally tore his eyes away from Lily, sensing you looking at him from afar. He flashed you a toothy grin, completely oblivious to the thoughts that were plaguing your mind and the butterflies that swarmed in your stomach. A playful smirk tugged his lips as he furrowed his eyebrows, lifting his hand up to call you over. 

You shook your head, politely declining as you sipped from your cup. He rolled his eyes, dramatically sighing before making his way to you. He planted himself right in front of you, leaning against the post that was beside him. James ran his fingers down from the top of your arm to your fingers, absentmindedly twisting his fingers with yours. He’s always been an affectionate friend, these simple actions were normal for the both of you, but it didn’t stop your cheeks from burning red. 

He chuckled, watching your reaction, “Do I make you flustered, Y/N? After all this time? After all we’ve done together, me touching your hand, is what gets you flustered?” 

You shoved him, shaking your head to deny his claims, “The alcohol is getting to me, Potter. Don’t flatter yourself.” 

“The alcohol?” he asked, not believing any of your words, “You’ve barely touched your drink. I’m pretty sure you’ve been sipping that drink for the last hour.” 

“Well, excuse me if I don’t want to be pissed drunk tonight,” you hummed, chugging your drink down anyway. 

James licked his lips, watching the lone drop of alcohol slip past your pink lips. He brushed it away with his thumb, collecting the liquid before letting his own tongue taste it. His thumb stayed on top of his lips for a while, keeping you in a trance. You watched his tongue dart out of his mouth, softly licking the pad of his thumb, a teasing smile on his lips. He knew exactly what he was doing to you. 

“Atta girl,” he whispered, peering down at your cup to see it empty. He turned around, picking up a bottle of firewhisky and pouring a generous amount into your cup, “Are you sure you don’t want to be pissed drunk tonight, sweetheart? It’s a good night for it.” 

“I can think of a better way to spend the night.” 

“Oh?” James cocked an eyebrow, a twinkle of mischief evident in his eye. His eyes trailed down your body, capturing his bottom lip between his teeth in the process. “Wanna get out of here?” 

You ignored your better judgement— the voice in your head that told you to put yourself first for once. Deep down you knew you would feel terrible when you woke up to an empty bed in the morning, knowing James never once spent the night. You knew you’d have to smile and nod the next day over breakfast, as James gushed about how gorgeous Lily was. You knew you’d end up alone at the end of the day, at the end of it all. 

But you couldn’t deny him, especially not when he’s looking as handsome as he does with his hair slicked back perfectly and a boyish innocence on his face. He patiently waited for your response, even though he knew you would say yes. James tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear, humming in content when you finally nodded. 

His eyes lit up, already getting ready to slip past everyone in the small party to sneak up to your dormitory. James took the cup from your hands and placed it mindlessly on the table next to him. He pointed towards the stairs with his head, motioning for you to follow him. And like a lost puppy, like you always did, you followed right behind him. 

You were almost at the start of the steps, going undetected for the most part, before Peter stopped the both of you. His hand tapped James’ shoulder, causing James to look at him impatiently. Peter didn’t realize what he was interrupting, starting up a conversation with you and James, to which you replied to with one word answers. 

James shot you an apologetic look, intertwining your hands together. He mouthed, “Sorry.” 

Clearing your throat, you finally spoke up with a sentence to offer the babbling boy, “Hey, Peter. James and I were just going to get some important stuff done, is there something in particular that you needed us for?”

The boy paused as if trying to remember if there was something important. Then he snapped up, tuning to face James, “Oh! Lily is looking for you.” 

And just like that, you became nobody to James Potter. 

His hand let go of yours as he pushed past you, running to where Lily stood. You grunted as his shoulder collided with yours, hissing in pain as you began to massage it. You watched his smile reach from ear to ear, heart breaking as he looked at Lily with pure adoration in his eyes. You let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding before stealing the cup that stayed untouched in Peter’s hand, drowning it in one go. 

You coughed, a scowl evident on your face, “What in the hell was that?” 

“Dunno,” he shrugged, “Prongs made it.” 

“Dammit,” you muttered, already anticipating a mean hangover the next day. “So much for not getting pissed drunk.”

It seemed like tonight was just the night of bad decisions. You continued to ignore your better judgement, taking any and every drink being offered to you. You figured that if you weren’t going to get laid tonight, you might as well get drunk. Sirius shot you a wink as he slid over a cup with clear liquid in it. 

You stared at it, fearing that it would be the last shot you take before you pass out. You lost count of how many drinks you’ve had over the past hour and a half. You shook your head, sliding it back to him, “No more for me, Pads.” 

“Come on, Y/N/N,” he groaned, sliding it back to you again, “You’re the only one who can keep up with me.” 

You reluctantly took the cup in your hand, ignoring Sirius’ silent celebration that you’re still standing with him. You drank the liquid quickly, gagging at the awful taste it left in your mouth, “You will literally be the death of me, Sirius Black.” 

“Don’t go dying on me, Y/L/N,” Sirius chuckled, bidding you a goodbye, “We’re supposed to live forever!” 

You sat on the couch, watching as students began to head up to their dormitories. It felt like you were silently watching everyone’s life pass you by, noticing things that you probably wouldn’t have paid any attention to if you were sober. You noticed two fifth years giggling and scurrying away to the girls’ dormitories, hands roaming each other’s bodies. The boy began to kiss up her neck and she pulled him flush to her chest before they disappeared into the night. 

James was alone now, a goofy smile still on his face. He saw you sitting by yourself and plopped down next to you, half leaning on your body for support. He smelled different— like strawberries and flowers, like Lily. He let his head fall onto your lap. You sent him a tight-lipped smile, brushing his hair away from his forehead with your fingers. He snuggled deeper into your touch, a giddy hum slipping past his parted lips. Your mind was hazy, the alcohol finally catching up to you. You closed your eyes for a quick second, trying to calm the pounding in your head. 

James poked your side, startling your moment of peace, “You tired?” 

“You can say that,” you nodded, eyes fluttering closed. The alcohol in your system took over your senses. Words began to slip past your lips before you could think them through, “Stay?”

He looked up at you, his head laying flat on your lap. James knew he shouldn’t stay. It would be weird— two friends falling asleep on the couch together, friends who also happen to have sex every other day, but he looked at your tired figure and decided one night wouldn’t hurt. He awkwardly wrapped his arm around your waist, “Sure, Y/N/N.” 

“Thanks, Prongs.”

James stared at the ceiling, thinking of Lily. He was making progress, he knew it. Lily was now looking for him, wanting to talk to him first. He smiled to himself, replaying their short conversations in his mind. He stirred around, shifting his body to fit snugly on the couch. He had so much energy in his body from the alcohol and the adrenaline he got after he walked Lily back to her dormitory. James could’ve swore she blushed when he wished her a goodnight. 

He felt you move from under him, an indication that you were still awake, as he was. James cleared his throat, his voice hoarse from not speaking for a while, “Hey, Y/N/N?”

You kept your eyes closed, “Yes?” 

“Do you think Lily would ever fall in love with me?” 

Your eyes opened up, his words sparking a fuse in you. Suddenly, you were wide awake, the tiredness from the drinks you had were now replaced with boldness and to your dismay, recklessness. Without missing a beat you replied, “She’d be crazy not to.” 

“Yeah?” he asked, fondness laced through his voice. He looked up at you, extending his neck to be able to stare at you in the eyes. “You really think so?” 

 “‘Course, Prongs,” you gulped, trying to disguise the tears in your eyes as glossiness from your high. You decided to cut the tension with a joke, hoping that he won’t take notice of the way your voice shook as you spoke, “But then again, you can be pretty annoying so I wouldn’t blame her if she wanted nothing to do with you.” 

“Stop sending me mixed signals,” he groaned, sitting up from his earlier spot. “You know I’m in love with her.” 

You instantly missed his weight on you, a pang of jealousy hit you square in the chest. You let yourself smile at his words, fighting back the feelings that wanted to burst out of you. The liquid courage wasn’t helping the cause. You pushed his shoulder playfully, “Only joking. Lily would be absolutely mental not to fall in love with you, too.” 

Your words gave James new-found hope. He began to talk about how beautiful Lily was, completely ignoring the way you faced away from him as he began to declare his love for her, yet again. You sniffled quietly, wiping your tears away with the sleeve of your jumper. James continued to speak, looking at the fire in the distance, love practically oozing out of eyes. 

He sighed, adoringly in love, “She’s the best girl I’ve ever met, Y/N/N. Like I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as great as her. Merlin! I don’t think I’d ever meet anyone as great as her. Isn’t she amazing?” 

You weakly nodded, exhausted from holding in your sobs, “Yeah, Prongs she is.”

“Yeah, and she’s so smart— Hey, what’s wrong?” he frowned, noticing the tears that stubbornly slipped from your eyes, “Why are you crying?” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at the boy in front of you— completely panicked, trying to figure out how on earth he should comfort a woman. You stared at him, feeling yourself fall deeper and deeper with every breath that he let past his lips. You cupped his face with your hand, knowing full well that you were no longer in control of your thoughts. If he were to ask you what’s wrong again, you were going to tell him. All of your sober thoughts will be spilled by your drunk self. 

So you let yourself take advantage of this moment— this final moment— before you let go of James Potter forever. 

You rubbed his cheekbone with the pad of your thumb, running over the new scar he got from playing Quidditch last week. You stared at his lips, remembering the way they felt like home whenever he kissed you. You studied his features, knowing it will be a long time from now before you get to be this close to him again. You smiled at him sadly, trying to look past the look of confusion on his beautiful face. 

“Prongs,” you whispered, lips trembling, “Prongs, I… I’m in love with you.” 

He sat there for a moment, completely silent, before he backed away from your touch. He backed up until his back hit the other side of the couch, wincing as the hard cushion jabbed against the small of his back. He stared at you in disbelief. James thought his ears were deceiving him because you? In love with him? That wasn’t possible. A nervous chuckle filled the silence, “Good one, Y/N.” 

You sighed, dropping your head in your hands. You knew you had half your foot in the door at this point, there was no turning back now. You spoke into your palms, “I wish I was kidding.” 

“But-... Y/N, we- no, no. We agreed, didn’t we?” he ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at the ends of it in frustration. “We agreed we wouldn’t catch feelings! I agreed, Y/N. You did too!”

“Sorry my feelings didn’t follow our binding contract,” you sarcastically remarked, half-irritated and half-nervous at his words, “I don’t know if you’re aware, Prongs, but feelings don’t really follow the rules.” 

“Y/N,” he sighed angrily, pacing over to you. “No! This—” he motioned between the two of you, “—can’t happen.” 

You knew the answer to your next question, but you couldn’t stop yourself from asking it anyway, “Why not James?” 

“You know why.” 

“Say it, anyway.” 

“I’m not gonna say it now that I know—”

You pushed back, “Know what?” 

James waved his hands around like a maniac, “This! You! Us! Now that I know about how you feel…. Ugh, Merlin’s beard, Y/N! I’m not gonna say it just to hurt you.”

“Why not?” you spat, getting up to confront him. “You didn’t have a problem gushing to me about your precious Lily a few minutes ago. Didn’t seem to have a problem talking about her right after you pull out of me, every single damn time. Prongs, you didn’t have a problem saying it then!”

“Because I didn’t know!” his voice was stern, but he lowered his volume, becoming aware of the time. He didn’t want to wake anyone up and have them listen into this conversation that the two of you were having now. “Y/N, I didn’t know that you… felt this way.” 

You flinched as he shuddered, “No need to act like it’s the plague, James. My feelings for you aren’t bad.” 

He ignored your comment, pacing back and forth in front of the fire, “Y/N, why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you fall in love with me?” he asked, grimacing as the words rolled off his tongue, “Why did you not say anything before your feelings got stronger? We could’ve stopped this! Why now? Just… why?”

You pondered his questions for a moment, trying to figure out how you were going to phrase your words together. You took a deep breath, “I-I didn’t mean to, James. Trust me, if I realized that I was falling in love with you, I would’ve stopped this too. It’s just.. It happened so fast, Prongs. I think I woke up one day and it just clicked, y’know?” 

You let out a wet chuckle, hoping that he would laugh along with you. 

He didn’t. 

You continued, “I think a part of me always has been in love with you, even before we made this deal or whatever you wanna call it. It just took me a while to realize it and once I did, I was selfish. I thought you’d realize that maybe you had feelings for me too.” 

“You’re drunk,” he finally said. He shook his head, refusing to believe the words that he was hearing. “You’re just drunk and talking out your arse.”

“Potter, I’m serious!” you groaned, you pulled him by his forearm, twisting him around to face you. His chest collided with yours, the close proximity making you shiver. You felt his fingers touch the skin of your back, exposed by your jumper that hiked up. His hands found their way to your hips, like it always did. “I’m so in love with you, James. Is there any part of you that feels the same way?” 

He stopped breathing. James’ eyes flickered between your eyes and your lips. His head slowly inched closer to yours, leaning down in an angle that seemed to almost capture your lips in a kiss. You felt his breath exhale from his mouth, the scent of firewhisky clouding your senses. You closed your eyes, awaiting the familiar feeling of his lips on yours. The feeling that you dreamt about every night and wished to wake up to every morning. 

But it never came. 

James’ hand pulled away from your skin, as if he was burned by touching you. He didn’t back away yet, he just let himself stand with his chest pressed against yours, but not daring to do anything else. His forehead knocked against yours softly, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt your eyelashes tickle his cheeks. You reluctantly opened your eyes, knowing that the minute you two made eye contact would be the end of whatever it was that you shared— agreement, friendship, relationship, whatever it was, will only be a memory. 

James opened his eyes, moving his head away from yours. He stared into your eyes, feeling guilty for the next words that he was about to say. He whispered, so softly, you almost didn’t catch it, “I’m in love with Lily.” 

A choked sob escaped your body, despite your protests against it. You quickly placed a hand over your mouth, not missing the way James cringed at the sound. You managed to put on a smile, although it was a pathetic one, you were proud of yourself for it. You nodded, weakly, feeling him pull away from you, “I know.” 

James walked backwards on his way back to the boys’ dormitories. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, so vulnerable and broken and alone in the middle of the Common Room. He stopped before he reached the first step, debating on what he should do next. 

You met his eyes, seeing the pity that filled them. Your pride was already long gone. It left the minute you confessed your love for him, knowing full well he was in love with someone else. So you spoke up before he disappeared into the dark of the night, before he left your life forever, “Can you kiss me? One last time?” 

“Y/N…”

You closed your eyes, breathing out of your nose. Your chest grew heavy, knowing him well enough to know what that tone of his voice meant. No. 

When you opened your eyes again, you were met with an empty Common Room. You stared at the spot where James once stood, listening to the sound of his receding footsteps tapping against the steps as he walked up to his dormitory. 

[ppersonna]

tempestuous - kth | m

tem·pes·tu·ous - adjective - characterized by strong and turbulent or conflicting emotion

↳ summary- There’s no one who riles you up more than Kim Taehyung, your best friend’s brother.  He knows exactly how to make you fly off the handle.

↳ rating- explicit / 18+

↳ word count- 6.8k

↳ pairing- taehyung x reader

↳ genre- smut, minor angst i guess in the form of fighting, this is one big pile of smut, there’s some fluff too

↳ warnings- yikes where to begin.  angry sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don’t be like dis), slapping, spanking, pain kink, dom/sub elements, facefucking, really rough sex, finger sucking, derogatory names, uhhh name calling, hate sex, tae is fuckin nasty yall im thriving

↳ a/n- I HAD TO REUPLOAD bc tumblr sucks lol well folks. here we are.  i was given a prompt by @ladyartemesia​ so i blame her.  as for tae, he really came for me this week and completely wrecked me, love that for me. i really popped off here and it’s only edited by me so i’m SORRY if there’s a lot of mistakes.  fun fact i actually wrote almost 10k of another version of this but it frustrated me so badly i scrapped it lmao  🤡 HERE WE GO! Enjoy!  feel free to send in your requests and i promise to try and get it done for you! 

Kim Taehyung could only be described in a few words.

Infuriating, bothersome, vexing.

Gorgeous, breathtaking, suave.

Absolutely, inherently maddening.

And you hate how much you absolutely melt underneath his gaze, the way your heart leaps into your throat with a single word.  Your body, the ultimate betrayer, opens up to him as your brain screams to abort, reverse, go back to start and do not pass go.

Kim Taehyung is not just the bane of your existence, no.  He’s the little brother of your best friend, Kim Namjoon.   Joonie had been in your life since you were in first grade and he in second.  Taehyung was your age, but you hit it off with the older boy and haven’t separated since.  Your mothers joked that you would get married one day and continue on the Kim line.  Until they found out that Namjoon was 1) bisexual and 2) hopelessly in love with, ironically, a man named Kim Seokjin.   He reasoned to his parents that they would at least carry on the Kim name.  

Where Namjoon was sweet, caring, and deeply compassionate towards you, Taehyung was his alter.  Taehyung was brash, cocky and relished in watching you squirm, whether it be out of fury or the god forsaken sexual tension.  All growing up, he was the one to pull your pigtails, trip you into puddles of mud, and tease you in front of your friends. Namjoon, ever the faithful companion, was always there to pick up the pieces of what Taehyung broke.

It’s been that way with Taehyung ever since. A constant tug of war with each other, both unwilling to give a single inch to the opponent.  

Your relationship with Namjoon remained steadfast as ever.  Namjoon eventually moved in with his now-husband, Seokjin, who easily settled into your life as an additional partner in crime.  You spent most of your days and nights settled into the couch, snuggled somehow in between or next to one of the two men you cherished most.  You had the two best friends you could ask for and a happy life, blissfully Taehyung-free.

Until it wasn’t.

A loud knock wakes you from an unexpected nap on Namjoon’s couch.  Your eyes crack open against the glare of the sunlight streaming through the windows.  It takes a moment to gather your surroundings.  You recognize that you’re in Namjoon and Seokjin’s apartment, and judging by the silence, you’re definitely alone there.  As you reach for your phone, the screen lights up the time.  5:34 pm.  Well, shit. You remember eating brunch and drinking mimosas at noon with your best friends and then lying on the couch to watch Netflix.  How had you fallen asleep for five hours?  How did you not wake? What the fuck did Jin put in his mimosas?

The knock is insistent again, louder this time.

“Joon! Jin! it’s me! Open up!”

The voice sounds familiar in your sleep-addled mind, but not quite enough to pinpoint it.   You push your limp body off the couch and wince at the feeling of sore muscles.  Couch sleeping isn’t all it’s cracked up to be once you’re past the age of 25.

“Sorry, Namjoon isn’t here-,” You open the door to explain to the guest and you’re cut off.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

You rub at your sleepy eyes and allow your vision to focus, only to feel your blood stand still in your veins.

Kim Taehyung.  Of fucking course.

“What do you mean, why am I here? I’m always here,” you tut as you fold your arms to your chest.  “What are you doing here?”

He rolls his eyes and holds up his hands, two suitcases clutched in each.  Who the fuck carries 4 suitcases up three flights of stairs? Kim annoying ass Taehyung does, apparently.

“I’m moving in.”  He pushes past you and into the living room.  

Your mouth gapes open.  Namjoon certainly didn’t tell you this.  Taehyung looks back at chuckles at your reaction.

“I’m guessing your best friend didn’t tell you the happy news?”

You shut your mouth, quickly jumping back into composure.  “No, he failed to mention that,” you sniff.  “I thought you lived with your girlfriend in Gangnam?  What was her name? Rose or whatever?”

Tae stiffens, just slightly for a moment, before he plasters back on the bravado.  “Obviously not anymore.  We broke up, she kept the apartment.  Got tired of moping at my mom’s house and I told Namjoon I wanted to come back to the city.”

You feel a slight tug at your stomach, guilt, perhaps?  You clear your throat.  “Oh, I’m sorry.”

He laughs as he sits on the couch, instantly throwing his feet onto the coffee table, like a heathen.  “No, you’re not.”  

“What do you mean, no I’m not? God, sorry for being polite!”

This, you reason, is why you can’t sustain longer than 5 minutes of civilized conversation with your best friend’s younger brother.  He’s impossible.

He just smirks, and you know he loves the rise he gets out of you.

“Because I know you, and I know you don’t give a fuck about my love life.”

Au contraire. If only he knew just how much you gave a fuck.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t be nice to you!” you nearly stamp your foot in frustration but hold yourself back. That would be too good of ammo for him to use against you.

“Okay, fine,” he acquiesces. “Whatever helps you feel you’re a good person.”

You’re seeing red and you know you want to continue screaming at him but you will not stoop to his level.

“Christ, I haven’t seen you in months and you’re still an asshole,” you say as you grab your keys and shoes. “And also, Jin will kill you if he sees your feet on his coffee table.”

You whip yourself around and open the door to leave and hear him call over your shoulder.

“Good to see you too, doll! Love the hairstyle, by the way.”

You close the door with a growl leaving your throat.  The absolute audacity of that man.

You stomp towards the elevator to take yourself to the ground level, when you catch your reflection in the shiny metal. Your hair is in what you can only lovingly call a complete hornet’s nest. It’s ratted and sticking out in places and you feel your cheeks burn.  Your first reintroduction with Taehyung is with a fight AND with you looking like a fool.

This would not do. No, sir.

“Kim Namjoon!” you shriek into your cell phone.  You’re awkwardly pressing it against your ear with your shoulder as you walk out of the convenience store under your apartment building with 3 bottles of soju and a six-pack of beer. You needed to drown your shame and sorrow, and fast.

“Hello, love of my life and moon of my stars,” your best friend replies and you can hear Seokjin chuckle in the background.

“No!” You chide, already cracking a beer open as you storm into your apartment building. “Don’t you Khal Drogo me, mister! Why the fuck didn’t you tell me your fucking asshole brother was moving in with you?!”

Namjoon is silent and you can tell he’s wincing on the other end of the phone. “Oops?” He offers.

“Yeah, big oops! A heads up would have been nice! Like, ‘hey best friend, your worst enemy of all time is moving in today. Maybe you shouldn’t fall asleep on my couch and wake up looking like Frankenstein’s ugly wife. Oh, and also my handsome boyfriend and I will just happen to not be there when he arrives’.”

By this time, you can tell Namjoon has put you on speakerphone because you can hear their rich laughter loud and clear. Rude bitches.

You stab your key code into your door and lock yourself in, chugging as much of the beer as you could handle.

“At least, even in her rants she thinks I’m handsome,” Jin gloats.

“I’m sorry babe,” Namjoon sighs as he finally calms down. “I didn’t know he would be there today. I just found out about it last night.”

You nibbled at your bottom lip, the annoying pit in your stomach feeling simultaneously guilty that he went through a breakup, unbridled joy that something brought him down a peg, and just a dash of excitement that he’s single now.

You let out a breath. “It’s okay, Joon.  It just surprised me to see him.”

Jin butts in, “And because you have a big, fat, unresolved crush on him.”

“Jin!” You admonish. The couple laughs again and you roll your eyes, asking yourself why you put up with the two. “I do not!”

They both hum a non-committal answer, implying they don’t believe you in the slightest.

“Whatever.  What are you guys doing, anyway?”

“We just got home from shopping.  God, Jin looked so good in these jeans he tried on.  I was actually just about to suck his coc-,”

“Kim Namjoon, do not finish that sentence! I do not wish to hear it!” You try to remain firm, but dissolve into giggles with the pair.

You could never stay mad at Namjoon long, even if his brother was the devil incarnate.

“Darling,” Jin calls through the phone.  “I still expect to see you at our place tonight for our sleepover.”

Christ, you had forgotten all about your scheduled sleepover night.  It was tradition and one of your favorite parts of your friendship with the couple.  Jin, a literal chef, prepared a five star meal along with dessert for you while you binge watched Netflix and talked incessantly.

But you also usually slept in their spare bedroom.  The exact one that Taehyung would be occupying.

“Fuck, while he’s there?”

“Oh suck it up,” Jin chides, like he’s your mother. “He’s probably not even going to leave his room.  You’re not getting out of this.  I’m making strawberry cheesecake.”

Your mouth waters at the idea of Jin’s famous cheesecake.  

“Fine, but I get to lick the bowl and not Namjoon.  Those are my terms.”

Namjoon squawked in defiance as Jin laughed.  “I agree to your terms.  Be at our place by 8.”

As you hung up the phone, you checked the time.  6:40.  God, he hadn’t left you with much time to get ready, did he?

And you definitely needed to get ready.  There was no way you were entering a room where Kim Taehyung exists looking like booboo the fool, not again.

Your fingers press the 6 digit passcode to Namjoon and Seokjin’s apartment, arms heavy laden with your bag of toiletries and pajamas, and a bag full of wine.

“Honey, I’m home!” You announce as you toe off your shoes and slide into the combined kitchen and living room.

You receive no reply, but greeted with the amused face of none other than the object of your filthiest dreams, Taehyung.

“Pet names already?  We’re moving pretty fast, wouldn’t you say?” He asks you as he lounges at the kitchen table.  He watches you open the fridge to set the wine, as comfortable in their home as you are in yours.

“Fuck off,” you grumble. “Where’s your brother?”

Tae seemed absolutely tickled by your disgruntlement.  “I think they mentioned something about taking a shower.  That was 20 minutes ago, though.”

“Great,” you sigh. “Those fucking horn dogs act as if they’re still newlyweds.  We’ll be waiting awhile.”  

You tug off your sweater, leaving you to remain in a fitted tank top and yoga pants.  You tried to maintain a comfortable look as you dressed for the evening, while keeping in mind which leggings hugged your ass and showed off your toned thighs, and a tank top that dipped low to your cleavage.  Okay, so maybe you had ulterior motives. You wanted to make up for your dreadful appearance earlier and make him squirm, payback for the years of him doing it to you.

You watch him as he lets his eyes roam your body, eying you like he wants to ravage you completely. You feel victorious… and also turned on. Fuck, you played yourself.

You flop onto the couch in a huff and Tae snorts before joining you.

“What’s so funny?” You eye him suspiciously.

“Nothing,” his smile feigns innocence. “I’m not allowed to laugh?”

You sniff in annoyance, not eager to fall for his tricks. “You’re allowed to do whatever you want, your highness.”  Sarcasm drips from your voice and Tae finds it even more humorous.

“I see you’re still a sassy bitch.”

You gasp, audibly startled by his language and rise from the couch, fists clenched.

“I see you’re still a conceited dick!”

He rises to meet you where you stand, eyes boring into your own with his stupid sexy grin on his face.  “I see you’re still not one to back down from a fight.”

You step closer, close enough to feel his breath on your face.  Idly, you note it smells like peppermint and you move closer on reflex.

“Yeah? I see you’re still not one to avoid starting a fight in the first place!” you huff.

“Oh, I started it?”  

“Yeah, you started it! You called me a bitch!”

You can’t believe this is happening.  You feel as if you’re 6 again and fighting with him over a toy.

“A sassy bitch, actually,” he corrects, taking another step forward, bodies touching.

“Fuck you!”

“Only if you say please,” he quips before he closes the distance and presses his lips to yours in a scorching hot kiss.

There’s not even a moment of hesitation on your end, immediately pulling him even closer and wrapping your arms around his neck and allowing his tongue entrance to your mouth.  Your body reacts to his instantly, as if it’s wired to respond to him and him only. Your mind was blank of anything except Tae, only Tae please, and you acted purely on instinct alone.  And instinct was pulling him closer and begging, more, anything he could give.

The sound of laughter coming from the hallway pulls you apart, neither of you wanting to get caught by Namjoon or Jin.  You stare at him, his lips are cherry red and slightly swollen and the image burns into your retinas.  He has such pretty lips after you’ve kissed him.

“Oh hey! What’s going on here?” Namjoon asks as he notices the intense eye-battle you’re engaged in with his younger brother.

It shakes you out of the spell, eye contact broken and hypnosis halted.  

“Just, errrr,” you falter to find the right words to explain the situation.

“Just getting reacquainted.”  Tae sounds completely unaffected, as if the passionate kiss you shared with him seconds ago was but a distant memory.  Asshole.

“I’m surprised you two haven’t thrown anything at each other yet,” Jin laughs. “Or thrown yourselves at each other.”

Both you and Taehyung whip to look directly at Jin.

“Her!?” Tae is incredulous. “Gross.”

You’ll never admit out loud that his words wound you.

“You’re an asshole, Taehyung,” you punctuate your words by turning away from him and towards Namjoon, who appears amused as ever.

“Ah, I love when my best friend and my little brother are screaming at each other.  Feels like old times.  Can one of you cry now to complete the moment?”

Taehyung grumbles under his breath, something you can’t catch, and stalks off to his room.  The slam of his door reverberates in the apartment and Jin jumps and turns to yell down the hall at his brother-in-law.

“Yah! Don’t break my apartment! I still owe money on this!”

Despite Taehyung’s appearance every so often in the kitchen or living room, the rest of the night goes on with no annoying disturbances.

Jin spoils you and his husband with expensive food, and the best cheesecake you’ve ever eaten in your life.  Plus, you’re given the bowl to lick clean despite a desperately adorable pout from Namjoon you were sure would persuade Jin.

You’re settled on the couch, snuggling in the middle of the couple as an action movie flickers across the big screen tv.  Truthfully, you haven’t paid attention to a single thing happening, your thoughts entirely too absorbed in Taehyung and that deliciously infuriating kiss.  

Why did he do it?  You couldn’t comprehend his reasoning.  Perhaps he was doing it to piss you off.  He’s never angered you with that level of intimacy before, but you didn’t put it past him.

You’re surprised when the credits of the movie start rolling and Jin and Namjoon fake loud yawns.

“Oh man, I’m beat,” Namjoon lies.

Jin is quick to join. “Me too, I think I’ll pass out the moment I hit the pillow.”

You roll your eyes at the men. “Will you two please go fuck already, I know that’s what you’re going to do.”

Namjoon blanches, but Jin laughs and kisses your cheek. “Ah, my smart, beautiful and chaotic child,” he coos. He leans in to your ear, voice low to keep his husband from listening. “I don’t think I’m the only one in this house who’s going to get pounded into a mattress.”  

He pulls back and winks at you, deftly ignores Namjoon’s confusion and sadness of being left out, and drags him to their bedroom with a loud ‘goodnight’.

You’re left to stew in your own emotions, which is never a good thing.  Was the tension that obvious? You always assumed it had been one-sided, but the kiss befuddled you more than you’d like to admit.

It finally snapped in your mind, all the dots connecting. That’s why he did it.  

He kissed you so you’d stew and simmer and eventually erupt, like you’re doing now.  Taehyung knows you too well for your comfort.

You grab your bag of clothes and storm towards the bathroom to change, promising yourself to forget about the kiss and not give Taehyung what he wants.

Except you’re not very good at promises, especially to yourself.

You can’t say you’re excited to sleep on the couch again.  While it’s a nice couch, it’s definitely not a bed and your back will pay the price tomorrow.  You supposed it was better than the floor, but not by much.

After dressing in your pajamas, a purposefully picked out combination of tiny shorts and a sports bra in case Taehyung happens upon you, you return to your bed for the night in the living room.

Namjoon graciously left blankets and a pillow out for you, and you’re complaining internally about Taehyung the whole time you make yourself a spot to sleep.  If it wasn’t for stupid Taehyung and his stupid existence, you’d be sleeping like a baby on the guest bed that you loved.  But no, they relegated you to the couch like an animal.

Sleep was not in the cards tonight, it seems.  You toss and turn and try to press at the cushions to move a lump around and get comfortable, but it’s all for naught.  You’re wide awake and very, very uncomfortable.  You didn’t understand how you fell asleep on this very couch earlier in the day.  Maybe the mimosas you had at brunch with the couple had been helpful.

A thought crosses your mind. Alcohol.  Maybe a nice glass of wine would help tuck you into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.  A nightcap. Of course.  You were angry at yourself for not thinking of it hours ago.  

You slipped out of your disagreeable bed and into the kitchen, trying not to make a sound.  Jin’s beloved kitchen was also an echo chamber of noise, even the slightest sound bouncing off its walls and amplifying it through the whole house.  You still remember the way you jumped five feet in the air when Jin accidentally broke a plate.  It sounded like a bomb explosion.

You bite your lip as you carefully pry the cabinet of wine glasses open, careful to not even allow a squeak of a hinge.  You silently beg to stay silent and not wake anyone in the house.  You didn’t want to be caught drinking wine at 2 am in the dark, that’s difficult to explain without looking like an alcoholic.

With glass in hand, you tiptoe the fridge to pull out the bottle of merlot, thinking the heavy red wine would be the best to get you sleepy and quick.  

You tug the cork from the bottle and pour a healthy amount into the stemware with a smile.  Liquid sleep.  And you had done it without making a single sound. Perfection. The smell of the alcohol permeates through your nose as you lift the glass, placing it to your lips to take a sip.

“Wine at this hour?” the unexpected voice of Taehyung echos through the kitchen, making you yelp and jolting you hard enough that you drop the hard-earned glass of wine to the tile floor, red wine splashing as the sound of glass shattering is reverberating off the walls.

“Fuck!” You screech at the intruder.  Taehyung doubles over, laughing as if he’s seen nothing funnier than what just transpired.  “You asshole!”

You listen past Taehyung’s incessant laughter to ensure the owners of the apartment hadn’t awoken during the ruckus. You definitely did not want to face a tired and agitated Jin to tell him you shattered one of his Tiffany crystal goblets.

Beyond Tae, the house is silent and you’re thanking whatever god is listening for keeping your best friends asleep.

The wine is everywhere, spilling into the cracks of the tile and splattered on the walls.  The crystal stemware is too; it shattered with such force that you see flecks of the shrapnel in all four corners of the room.

Tae wipes a tear from his face and you square a tempestuous look at him.  

“Fucking help me!  You made me drop it!”

Through snorts, he replies. “I didn’t make you do anything.  You did that on your own.”  Although he is arguing with you, he’s gingerly stepping into the kitchen and kneeling to pick up shards of glass.

“I wouldn’t have dropped it if you had come into the room like a fucking normal person,” you grit.

He collects the glass, the delighted grin on his face now permanent.  He’s relishing in your annoyance, you know he is, and it burns you from the inside out.

“It’s not my fault you didn’t hear me.”

“You could have turned on the light! Why were you in the dark like a freak?”  You’re grasping at straws, anything to pin this all on him.  It would quell the fire in your belly to push it all onto him, make you feel as if you’ve won.

Taehyung levels a look at you.  “And you weren’t also in the dark? Pouring a gallon of wine for yourself?”

Your cheeks flare red. Fuck, he definitely caught you there.  You’re playing verbal poker with him and the hand you’re dealt falls flat compared to his royal flush.  He grins, knowing he has you.

“Fuck you,” you snark, you go to insult when you’re backed into a corner.

“Ah, doll,” he winks.  “We talked about that.  Be careful what you wish for.”

The fire inside you is roaring to an inferno now, flames licking to your core. It’s a complicated mixture of anger and sexual energy. It’s infuriating that he’s able to make you feel every single emotion to the extreme. You hate that arguing with him turns you on, like it’s some perverse foreplay.  

You moisten your lips with your tongue as you process his words, and Tae’s eyes hungrily track the appendage as it glides over your lips.

“Fuck. You.” You emphasize perfunctorily.

All thoughts of wiping up the mess are forgotten as Tae drags both you and himself off the floor and steers you to the living room, lips feverish against your own.  He pushes you into the couch and tugs his shirt off, before replacing his lips to yours.  

“Fuck, you’re so fucking hot when you’re a bitch,” he groans as he snaps the strap of your sports bra. “Seeing you get all worked up makes me so hard.”

He’s not wrong. You can see through his mesh basketball shorts that he’s sporting an impressive package, rock hard in its clothed prison.

“Yeah?” You bite at his lip.

“Hell yeah.”  His hands work to the elastic band under your bust and tugs the offending material off, tits springing free as he throws it to the floor.  

“Holy shit,” Taehyung breathes as he gets a good look at your chest.

You shake them gently, grinning as he watches them jiggle.  “You like what you see?”

He smirks and pinches a nipple, wiping the coy smile off your face and turning it into a moan.  “I like when you’re mouthy, but don’t push it.”  

He lowers his head to the nipple he’s still pinching in his fingers, licking at it and replacing his fingers with his mouth.  He’s moaning around the nipple, and you’re gasping for more.  His hot mouth sucks at you, teeth nibbling and pulling it until you’re whimpering in delicious pain.

“Fuck!” He cries as he pops away from your nipple.  “You’re so fucking hot.”

Your body warms at his words, arousal pooling between your legs.  You’re sure that your thighs are drenched in your essence.

He slurps your neglected breast into his mouth, ensuring your nipples are equally abused.  His tongue is skilled but his mouth is messy, saliva dripping all around your tit and it’s the hottest fucking sight you’ve ever seen.

He’s pulling away again and pinching both nipples with his hands simultaneously. “And you’re so fucking annoying.”

You’re pleading for more or to stop, you’re not sure.  He continues.

“Mm, I’m gonna fuck you until you’re a good little bitch for me. Listening to every fucking thing I say.”

He releases your nipples, and you finally find the ability to focus again, staring directly at him.

“Oh, you think you’re that good?” you sass as you attempt to catch your breath.  “Put your money where your mouth is.”

Tae grips your chin roughly, face inches away from yours with a sadistic grin. “You’re going to regret those words, baby.”

Instantly, he’s standing up and tugging his shorts down to let his cock spring free.  Your brain misfires as you visually measure his cock and your mouth goes dry. He’s thick and long. The bulbous head is dripping pre-cum, begging you to slurp it up.

“How about I put my money where your mouth is,” he suggests as he grabs a fistful of your hair.  

He teasingly rubs his cock on your lips and cheeks, makes you whimper with need. Your tongue is sticking out, desperate for him to lay it on you.

“Already so fucking greedy,” he grunts and in one motion, directs his dick into your open mouth. “I’ll fuck your throat, yeah? Greedy bitches love getting face fucked.”  He is still for a beat more, eyes searching yours for consent and you nod with his cock still in your mouth. He winks, then begins a rapid pace, his cock fucking into your mouth and throat.

You’re sure you look like a goddamn mess with saliva dripping from your mouth as Taehyung punishes your throat with his thrusts.  You gag and moan around him, and he tightens his grip in your hair as you see stars.

It’s indescribable. Never have you felt such pleasure from sucking cock, but Tae commands your entire body, willing you to drip with anticipation.

“My little fuck toy, god you feel so fucking good,” he hisses. “You’re gonna swallow my cum, baby.”  

His hips are stuttering, he’s close, and you’re sucking him harder, cheeks pulling in harder to vacuum him in. The pressure makes him groan out loud.

“So good, so fucking good. Get ready for your prize, baby,” his voice cuts off in a gasp, as his cock twitches violently. His legs shake and he doesn’t hold back the moans of his orgasm, gasping as he feels rope after rope spill down your hot throat.

Your big doll eyes are twinkling up at him, lips still wrapped around his cock. Taehyung is sure it’s the hottest thing he’ll ever see in his lifetime.  You on your knees, subservient to him and thriving for it.

“Mmm, I like it when your mouth is full like this,” he slowly pulls out of your mouth, albeit reluctantly. “Can’t talk back to me when you’re sucking my cock like a whore.”

You smile and stick out your tongue, pleased to show him you happily accepted his cum.

“Good fucking girl,” he coos as he grips your chin again. “Did you like my cum?”

You nod, brain fried from the heat of the room.

“Use your words,” he grits and grips your jaw harder. It’s enough to shock you into compliance.

“Y-yes! Fuck, I love your cum, Tae.”  Your words are breathy and raspy, throat raw from his barrage.

“I knew you would, filthy slut.  Sit on the couch.” He orders and you’re quick to scurry and sit on the makeshift bed you made.

His hands are tugging down your shorts quickly. No teasing or seduction here, not now. You lift your hips, and he throws them aside. Your legs close on reflex, making him growl.

“Do not hide yourself from me.” His tone is dark and you can’t help but shiver as you open yourself up to him. You want to talk back, want to fight and bite at him, but you’re quickly losing the ability to even speak, and you’re aching for him.

“Where’s my mouthy little bitch? You’re awfully quiet. Did I finally break you?” He teases, pressing your legs upward, knees to your ears. It’s pornographic how on display you are for him, soaking wet cunt front and center.

“The great Taehyung thinks he can break me with his cock,” you mewl, mustering all the false confidence you can. You’re lying through your fucking teeth and you both know it, but you continue. “You’ll have to do more than that.”

Your pussy is quaking with need now, desperate for a single touch. His hands maintain purchase on the backs of your thighs, holding them up.

“There she is,” he bites at the flesh of your leg closest to him which makes you jerk in his hold. “Gonna fuck the brat right out of you.”

He removes a hand from your thigh and you’re quick to pick up the slack, holding the thigh in place to maintain his open show of your pussy.

“Try me,” you murmur, and you’re instantly regretting your words as a harsh slap descends and lands square on your cunt.

You nearly scream, pain flooding your wanton pussy, before turning into delicious pleasure that stings and tingles right at your clit. It sizzles, and warmth blooms where his hand was.

“That’s for not believing me.”  His eyes are feral and you want to bottle this memory forever.  

Another slap has your legs trembling, eyes rolling back as the burn turns to a low heat.  You’re dripping your wetness down onto the couch and Jin will kill you, but you don’t care.

“That was for calling me a dick,” he smirks.

Smack.

Tears spring in your eyes as the slap brings more pleasure than pain, desperately close to your edge.

“Look at you, you could cum just from this, couldn’t you?”

“F-fuck! Yes, please, I need more, please!” Your cunt is clenching around nothing, desperate for friction and leaking out of you like a faucet. Taehyung marvels at you, legs spread so far, with a cunt weeping with arousal for more. He can’t wait to dive in there, but he’s not finished with you yet.

“More? I don’t know if you deserve more, baby, you’ve been awfully mean to me,” he tsks, breathing hot air on your clit, making you whine.

“P-please! I’m sorry!” You’re sure you will black out with how desperately you need him. You need him more than you need oxygen.

“Beg.”

You’re quick to submit. Thoughts of fighting back are long gone, you’re his wanton little slut now.

“Please, please! Pleaseeeee, make me cum! I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” He asks with an arch of his eyebrow.

You’re nodding wildly, gazing at him with desperate, watery eyes.

“Anything, I need you so f-fucking bad it hurts!”

By the time the words leave your lips, he’s thrusting two fingers into your cunt viciously, fingering you ferociously. He arches them, rubbing against your spongy g-spot and making you scream. He knows you’re close, knows you only need one little push off the edge. He plays your body like a skilled practitioner.

“Cum on my fingers, baby. Let me see my greedy little bitch milk my fingers.”

Your body and mind react accordingly, deep down you know your body is owned completely by him, all his.  Your orgasm explodes and you think you actually scream, your vision is black and your hearing goes silent for a moment as you cum harder than you have in your life.  You’re squeezing his fingers with your pussy so tight and Taehyung is gently licking all the juices from his hand with his fingers still inside you.

It takes time to descend from the separate plane of existence Taehyung sent you too, but you come back and watch as he laps at the liquid of your cunt and on his hand like it’s a vital necessity. His fingers remain in your walls, and he refuses to break eye contact with you. You’re positive you could cum again from the sight.

“My little cockslut tastes so good, just how I like,” he tells you tenderly. “Like cherries, so sweet.  My little cherry.”

Your cunt is aching and warming back to life as he pulls his fingers out of you. The loss is immense and you’re whimpering for more.

“Ah, ah,” he hushes you. “No whining. You’ll take what I give you.  Suck my fingers clean. Taste yourself.”

He presses his fingers into your mouth, earning him a sigh, the taste of you filling your mouth. You swirl your tongue around his fingers and suckle each one to ensure your tongue laves the entire surface.

“Fuck,” he whispers and it’s his first crack in his steel reserve. “Needy.”

He pulls his fingers from your mouth and presses against you to kiss. It’s gentle, sweet, and nothing compared to the man assailing your pussy with slaps moments ago. It thrills you just the same and you return in kind, threading your hands in his wavy hair.

He pulls away and presses his forehead against yours, a moment of gentleness you actively welcome.

“This little cunt ready for me?” He whispers and you’re whimpering your reply.

“Please, fuck me. I need you to fuck me until I can’t walk.”

He grins and presses a kiss to your lips again, sweet and chaste, before he pulls away and slides down to attach those same sinful lips to your pussy.

It’s so unexpected you flinch and manage a cry as his tongue slurps up more of your delicious essence and his mouth moves to suckle on your clit. You’re not sure where the fuck he learned these tricks, but you know now you will never let him go.

“Taehyung!” You cry at the sensation. “Fuck!”

After receiving the reaction he was desperate for, he slips his tongue into your walls deep and gathers as much of you as he can, before he’s pulling back and swallowing you down.

“I couldn’t resist. Your cunt was made for me to devour.”

He doesn’t allow for a response as he throws your legs over his shoulders and lines himself up at your core.

“Condom?” He asks you, and you level a quick look at him.

“I don’t live here! I don’t have any!”  You’re savage, terrified he’ll pull his cock away when all you want and can think about is the way he’ll feel pounding into you.

“Don’t be rude, baby,” he reminds you with a swat to your ass. “I’m clean, promise. You?”

You nod quickly, reveling in the spank’s tingle. “Same. I have an IUD too,” you sigh. Thank god for medical birth control implants.

“Good. You’re the only pussy I’m gonna fuck from now on,” he promises. You know you must talk about this later, when you’re thinking rationally and not with your aching pussy.  

Your heart stutters and leaps into your throat but all is forgotten as he plunges into your tight heat.

“Ohhhhh shit, ahhh,” he gasps. “Baby, you’re so fucking tight and wet.”  He’s on the verge of whining, becoming just as needy and greedy as you.  He wastes no time in setting a pace.

His cock fills you completely, his angle allowing him to go as deep as he can, pressing the beginning of your cervix.  This is surely what heaven feels like.  It feels like the completeness you feel with Taehyung fully sheathed inside you.

It comes alive with flames and explosions as he fucks you, hips pistoning to plunge in and out of you with tenacity.  He fucks you like he laces every single thrust with more, more than just sex. He fucks you with purpose.

You’re moaning like a pornstar now, high pitch wails and gasps and breathy moans are all you can manage. “Taehyung, yes! Feel so g-g-good!”

“That’s right baby, scream my fucking name. Make sure all the neighbors know who fucking ruined you,” he nearly spits, cock thrusting into your core at an impossible speed. “I want you to tell all of Korea who owns you. Who owns this tiny little cunt?”

The wind leaves you, and you’re gasping for air, gaping mouth open as you try to reply. It takes him fucking into you harder a few times before you feel it rush back into you.

“You, Taehyung!  You!  Fuck, I love your cock!”

His thumb rubs at your engorged clit, allowing it the friction it seeks.  He bends forward and wraps his other hand around your throat, squeezing.  

Losing air combined with the friction on your clit has you keening, so close to the edge. You try to babble his name but nothing comes out.

“Look at my pretty little slut taking my cock so well,” he praises.  “You have the greediest pussy, don’t you? You need my cock daily, baby. Need to put my mouthy bitch in her place, remind her who’s in charge.”

He slows his pace but his thrusts are punishing, fucking into you as hard as he can. Your orgasm is climbing so impossibly high.

“F-fuck!” You gasp as he releases his grip on your neck. “Gonna cum! Please let me cum!”  

“Yeah baby, cum for me.  Cream your greedy pussy all over my cock.”

The world stops spinning as you hit the height of your climax and plunge down.  Your vision goes black and your body is quivering and convulsing nearly as hard as your cunt is. Taehyung hisses at your walls sucking him in, as if you’re begging for his cum, begging for more.

“Fuck, good girl, baby, holy shit,” he’s breathless and so close.

You’re overstimulated, boneless, but he wrought two of the best orgasms you’ve ever felt in your life and you’ll be damned if you leave him high and dry.  You bite your lip as you move with him, hips pounding against each other. His face is scrunched up and you know he’s close when he’s stuttering on his words.  You take over for him.

“Please cum in me baby, please.  Fill me up. I’m yours, baby, mark my little cunt as yours.”  You don’t know where it’s coming from, but you keep it going. It feels as natural as fucking him does. “Please, Taehyung!”

At the sound of his name leaving you in a whine, he spirals down his own completion. He feels his cock pulse as he empties his load into you, your walls still reverently beckoning for him. He’s calling out your name, grasping at your tits as he finishes and you’re smiling from ear to ear. Your pussy is warm with his seed and you’re positive it’s the way you want to feel every single night.

“Holy fuck,” Taehyung rasps as he pulls his cock out of you. He thrills as he watches his cum follow, slipping out your folds and down your thigh. “I definitely marked you.”

You hum in reply, finally allowing yourself to soak in the haze of orgasmic bliss. Tae presses his head to yours again, kissing you sweetly.

“Come sleep in my bed?” He asks. He means more behind it. He wants to ask you to sleep in his bed every night, stay with him every day, be the one he grows old with. He knows there’s still more to talk about, wounds of the past to heal, but now you’re with him, and he knows he’ll work through anything.

You nod, and kiss him again, understanding his hidden meaning laced in his words.

A sly smile spreads across his face. “Last one to bed has to take the blame for the wineglass,” he teases. Your head spins as if you’ve got whiplash.  He can switch from dominating to sensitive to the little shit he is so quick.

“Hey! No fucking fair! You fucked my ability to run out of me!”

“Shouldn’t have been such a sassy bitch,” he winks before he tears away towards his room.

“Taehyung, you’re an asshole!” You call as you limp your way behind him.

From behind Joon and Jin’s door, a critical voice bellows, “YAH! I’ll kill you if you got your jizz on my couch! And what is this I heard about my glass!!? HEY!  Those are TIFFANY. CRYSTAL. THE DISRESPECT!”

You slip into Taehyung’s bed and wrap yourself around him, the two of you gasping with mischievous giggles.

Kim Taehyung will always be the one who knows how to drive you wild. He’ll always aggravate and infuriate you, send you reeling.

But now you didn’t think you minded it at all.

© ppersonna - 2020 - do not repost on any site, or translate without express permission from author.