#he said he was going to kiss them and instead chomped their nose

[ren-or-rin]

He’s very pleased with himself

[aalissy]

Sweets

Day 3 is done! And it’s an identity reveal hehe. I hope you like this chapter! Though I have to admit a tiny bit of Ladynoir crept in haha. I hope you still likte it :).

AO3

Ladybug gently swooped down onto the building directly in front of the Eiffel Tower, a box protectively cradled in her hands. It was her and Chat’s anniversary from when they first got their miraculouses. So she decided to bake her partner some special sweets. And if, say, she baked a few extra to give to her classmates (namely Adrien) tomorrow, well that was just an unexpected bonus.

“Hey, bugaboo.” Chat looked over his shoulder at her with a bright smile as she landed behind him. His feet swung out over the building and his eyes lit up with delight. “What have you got there?”

“Happy anniversary, Chaton.” Ladybug held the box out to him, giddy anticipation flooding through her. 

He took the gift from her eagerly, practically tearing through her wrapping as he opened it. As soon as it was open, he popped a macaroon in his mouth, chomping on it loudly.

Ladybug rolled her eyes fondly. “Don’t eat them all at once, mon minou. It took me a long time to bake those.”

“You made these,” Chat said, his eyes softening as he slowed down in his chewing.

“Mhm,” she hummed, taking out a red macaroon with black polka dots before savoring the delicate treat. Mmm! These really were a great batch. She gestured at the box and after swallowing her bite, said, “I designed them after Paris’ heroes.”

Chat finally looked down, eyes widening as he took in all of the different colored macaroons. “That’s adorable,” he murmured before nibbling on a Ladybug-themed macaroon himself.

She giggled, finishing her macaroon before standing up and dusting herself off. “Alright, we had better get going now. We can save the macaroons for later. We still need to finish our patrol.”

“Aw, come on bugaboo. Can’t I purrsuade you to stay a little longer? It is, afur all, our anniversary.”

Ladybug chuckled once more before leaning down to flick her partner’s nose, watching as he scrunched it adorable. Shaking her head, she began to swing her yo-yo. “Those puns aren’t helping your cause, Chaton. How about this, first one to get back here after finishing their patrol gets an extra macaroon.”

Chat’s ears perked up and he quickly stood up, extending his baton. “See you later, m’lady.”

She watched as he took off into the night, determined to get his extra macaroon. Shaking her head, Ladybug followed after him. “That silly Tomcat,” she muttered fondly.

The rest of their patrol finished fairly quickly, with Chat winning the additional sweet. He bragged about the win mercilessly, and Ladybug simply rolled his eyes with a tiny smile on her lips, not willing to tell him that she had made the extra dessert especially for him anyway.

They parted ways soon after that and Marinette had soon detransformed, crawling into bed with a yawn. “Night, Tikki.” 

“Goodnight, Marinette,” her kwami said back before cuddling on the pillow next to her.

She kissed Tikki’s forehead gently and slowly drifted off to sleep, excited to give her classmates the macaroons tomorrow. 

Unfortunately for Marinette, though, her alarm wasn’t what woke her for school that morning. It was instead Tikki’s panicked shouts. 

“Huh?!” Marinette shouted, shooting up in bed as she almost collided with her kwami. 

“You’re going to be late for school, Marinette,” Tikki said anxiously.

With a panicked squeak, she practically threw herself out of her bed. Quickly yanking on a pair of clothes, she almost ran out of her room without the sweets she had made yesterday. Giving her head a mental shake, Marinette retraced her steps, grabbing the macaroons she had made for her friends. With that done, she flung herself out of the bakery, wishing her parents a good morning before racing off to school.

Bursting through the classroom doors, she felt a blush light up her face as she saw most of her classmates already seated with their notebooks at the ready. Timidly, she glanced up at the clock and breathed a sigh of relief when she realized that she had a minute to spare.

“Wow, you made it on time for once.” Alya smirked at her, leaning her head on her fist.

Rolling her eyes, Marinette slid into the seat next to her. “If you keep that up, I might ‘forget’ to give you the special treats I made for Ladybug and Chat Noir’s anniversary.”

Her best friend instantly sat up straighter, her lips forming into a pout. “I’m so sorry. You’re always on time and have never been late a day in your life.”

“You’ve got that right.” Marinette laughed before tossing Alya a Rena Rouge-themed macaroon.

Leaning forward, she tapped both Nino and Adrien on the shoulder. They both turned around to look at her and she felt her heart beat doubly fast as she caught a glance of Adrien’s perfect emerald eyes. Steeling herself mentally, she forced herself to move her gaze over to Nino as she whispered, “I made you guys some macaroons for this extra special day.”

Throwing them both their special Carapace and Aspik-themed desserts respectively, Marinette quickly ducked her head down to grab her bag. With her head down, though, she missed the widening of Adrien’s eyes.

“Aw, thanks dudette.” She heard Nino say as he opened his wrapper.

By the time she got her books and notes out, it was time for class to begin. Opening her notebook, Marinette caught sight of Alya’s knowing grin and simply rolled her eyes back at her best friend. 

Trying to pay attention in class was difficult, however. Adrien was constantly turning around in his seat to give her an inscrutable look. Every time it happened it caused Marinette to get increasingly distracted. How could he look at her with those beautiful eyes and expect her to pay attention? 

Perhaps her Maman was right. Maybe the way to a man’s heart really was through his stomach.

When the bell rang, though, Marinette hardly had time to finish packing her stuff back in her bag when she felt a hand grab her arm. Squeaking in surprise, she saw Adrien tug her out of the classroom. Her lips parted as her eyes widened. Surely this couldn’t all be because of the macaroons... could it?

He finally stopped the two of them by an abandoned corner of the school. Adrien started pacing, muttering to himself. She glanced down to see the macaroon still clenched in his hand. Was there something wrong with it?

Swallowing the huge lump in her throat, Marinette asked, “I-Is there something wrong, Adrien?”

He finally stopped pacing to look at her, running his hands through his hair and making it look even more ruffled. She fought the urge to smooth it back into place with her own hands. 

“Did you make these?” He held out the macaroon, a wild look in his eyes.

Marinette blinked, a small furrow forming between her brows. “Yes,” she said slowly. “Why? Did you not like them?”

A tiny bit of offense crept into her tone. After all, how could Adrien say he didn’t like them if he didn’t even eat one? Alya, Nino, and Chat had all liked them so why didn’t he?

He blew out a harsh breath before slowly, a wide, Cheshire Cat-like grin grew on his face. “Yes, I did. I liked them very much.”

Her frown deepened. But he didn’t even eat it?! Now he was saying he liked it? 

Opening her mouth to ask him just what was wrong, Adrien cut her off before she could. “In fact, you could say I pawsitively adored them, m’lady.”

Just like that, Marinette felt dizzy. Practically swaying on her feet, she whispered, “W-what?”

“I said I pawsitively adored them, m’lady. Especially that extra special one I got yesterday when I finally beat you back to our spot.” Slowly, Adrien took a step closer to her, grasping her shoulders gently.

She choked out a breathless laugh. “Oh my god, it’s you.”

In the next second, he picked her up and spun her around. Marinette squealed out a giddy laugh. Of course Adrien was Chat Noir. How come she never saw it before?

Allowing herself to enjoy the spin for another few, precious moments, she forgot about all the consequences and worries an identity reveal could cause. Right now it was just them and she was going to enjoy this moment.

When he finally put her back down again, he leaned his forehead on hers and murmured, “I’m so glad it’s you.”

Laughing, Marinette shook her head. “Me too. Though I have to admit I didn’t think we’d reveal our identities because of some sweets.”

“Me either.” Adrien chuckled with her.

Her heart quickened in her chest as she saw his eyes dip down to her lips. Slowly, her eyes fluttered closed as she tilted her head up to his. 

Just before their lips met, however, a bell rang. Both of them sprang apart, their faces heated in a bright red blush. Nibbling down on her bottom lip, Marinette cracked a small grin. “I suppose we should be getting to class now, right?”

Adrien hummed, a tight smile on his own lips.

Clearing her throat, Marinette whispered, “But I’ll see you in patrol later tonight, right?”

Adrien’s tight smile melted into a soft beam. “Of course, bugaboo. I’m already looking forward to it.”

Together, they both walked to their next class and if Marinette brushed her fingers against Adrien’s a few times, well, it was only an accident.

[iwriteficsandtragedies]

Thunderstruck

Player: Jack Grealish

Warnings: smut, orgasm denial, Jack Grealish is a snarky little fucker, language

_________________________________________

“You WHAT?” Your roommate gaped at you as though you’d told her you’d been to Mars. “You did not.” You just nodded, took a chug of your tea. “Christ on a stick, let me get the good stuff.”

She darted out of the den to the kitchen, and returned with a pint of Ben and Jerry’s and a spoon each.

“Details, all of them.” She ripped away the lid and dug her spoon in to take a big hunk of ice cream. “ALL. Of them.”

You rehashed your weekend with Jack in between mouthfuls of chocolate, leaving out the part where you’d both confessed your love to each other. That part you were still figuring out.

“So you what, fucked like rabbits for two days and then…?”

“Left separately so our families didn’t see us.”

“And you’re together? Frenemies who fuck? A situationship? What?”

“I don’t know,” you laughed lightly. “We didn’t talk about it.”

“Unbelievable,” she said. “Is he texting? He’d better be texting. He’d better call you.”

He was texting, and he did call, at one in the morning.

“Don’t you have a flight tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” His voice was raspy, sleepy. Sexy. “Just miss you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” There was silence, save for the rustling sound of bedsheets on his end. “I’m gonna be gone a few days. Might not be able to talk much.”

“I know.” More silence.

“I just… I know we didn’t talk about… us. What this is. I just want you to know I won’t be… with anyone else.”

“No shagging the locals anymore?” You couldn’t help it. He was still Jack, and you were still you.

“Just you,” he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

“You need to go to sleep.”

“Yeah.” He grunted low and long, like he was stretching. “Come over when I get back?”

After you’d said goodnight, you flipped through the few pictures you’d taken of the two of you. You could vividly remember how warm he was next to you, the way it felt to have his arms around you. He’d said you were the only one he was sleeping with. So, did that make him your boyfriend? He said he fucking loved you, idiot, you thought to yourself.

Five days passed at lightening speed, thanks to an unforgiving workload and an incompetent stand-in manager, and you didn’t even realize Jack was to return til you saw his text at the end of the work day. It was just a simple “Home. Come over after work. Pls.”

He hadn’t bothered to send his address, because even when you barely spoke to each other, you’d always known where he was. You were reevaluating a decade or so worth of interactions. He’d always send you flowers on your birthday. Always sent you a present for Christmas. But surely you weren’t the only one he sent gifts to.

The smile on his face when he opened the door made you grin like a kid. “Come here,” he said, lifting you off your feet and burying his face in your neck. “Shit, I missed you.”

“Spent a whole week pining, did you?”

He set you on your feet, staring down at you. “Cried myself to sleep every night. Chilly is sick of me.” He nuzzled his nose against yours. “How was your week?”

“I’ve been so busy I’ve barely had time to think,” you said, and leaned your head into his chest. Suddenly you were aware of your exhaustion. “If my manager doesn’t come back soon I’m going to start a riot.”

He kissed the top of your head, squeezing his arms tighter around you. “I ordered dinner.” The two of you were still for a moment. Your heart rate slowed, your muscles relaxed; you thought you might doze off standing in his arms, til a knock at the door jolted the both of you.

“Speak of the devil,” he said.

Your work clothes were too constricting for stuffing your face with Chinese food; Jack gave you some gloriously comfy sweats and a t-shirt to wear instead.

“Is this weird?” You were swiping bites off his plate, even though he’d ordered you your favorites.

“Is what weird?” He chomped down on a piece of chicken, wiped sauce from his lip.

“This. We just… are we a couple now, then?”

“I guess.” He gave you the last piece of his broccoli. “Want a beer?”

You watched him into the kitchen, grabbing you a beer each. He was so… chill?

“Jack,” you said, and he said your name in return, the mocking shit. “Jack we have to talk about this.”

“Do we?"

You wanted to hit him, and kiss him. “So we’re just in love now, that’s it?”

“Yeah.” His eyes met yours when he returned to your side, his face crinkled with a smile. “That good with you?” You couldn’t help laughing. “It’s settled then.” He clinked his bottle against yours and took a long drink.

You propped your arm on the back of the couch and let your head rest in your hand. A month ago you would have sneered at the mention of his name, and now you could’t take your eyes off him. “Jack.” He looked over at you. “Did you miss me?”

“Thought about you every minute. Bit of a distraction, really, probably my worst performance at camp in years.” He turned his body towards you, reaching to twirl your hair through his fingers.

“What’d you think about?”

He tucked his hand behind your neck and squeezed, pulling you closer to him. “Kissing you, mostly.” You felt his kiss down into your toes, soft and lazy. When he broke it he let his lips graze over your cheek and press into your forehead. “The way you smell.” His arm dropped over your shoulder, hand splayed over your ribs. His other hand stroked over your knee. “How hot you are when you’re pissed off.”

“Oh yeah,” you said. You hooked a leg over his to shift yourself more onto his lap. “That all?”

“Hmm,” he hummed, letting his fingertips brush over your breast. You felt your nipple harden at just that barest touch. “Thought a lot about how your pussy feels when you come on my cock.” Your belly tightened, breath already shaky. The hand on your leg was stroking higher.

“Bed.”

His mattress was a cloud, the sheets silky soft on your skin while he stripped you down, eyes glazing over when he sat back to drink you in. “Fuck me, you’re gorgeous.” You laughed nervously. His gaze was so intense.

“Gonna stare at me all night, Jackie?”

“Shutup,” he smiled, and leaned over you to claim a soft, heated kiss.

“Still can’t call you Jackie?”

“Never.” He bit at your lip, swallowed your gasp when he pressed himself into you. A growl hummed through him when you rocked your hips up to him. “God, I just want to be inside you.” He shoved his pants and boxers down his legs, cursing when they tangled round his ankles before falling to the floor, and your giggle died on your lips when he speared into you, replaced with a “fuck, fuck, fuck.” He was so thick, seated so deeply in you it took your breath; his arm was hooked tightly around your waist.

He said your name softly, his breath passing over your ear. “Is it too soon to ask you to move in?”

“A little,” you managed to breathe out as he pushed up and away from you. He pulled his lower lip between his teeth, staring down at the joining of your bodies. He flexed his abs and his cock twitched inside you, sending a shudder through you and drawing a shallow gasp from your lips. “Tease.”

“Not teasing, love.” He swiped his thumb over his tongue and stroked slowly it over your clit, another jolt of pleasure piercing through you. “Just taking my time.” He pushed his hips into you, barely moving but giving you just enough friction to make your breath hitch. You were near trembling, but he just lazed his thumb across your clit, the ghost of a smile on his face when you started to squirm and he flattened his against your belly.

“Make me come, Jack,” you groaned. “I thought you missed it.” You clenched your walls around him in a fleeting moment of control; he jerked against you, a heavy grunt In his throat, before he lowered himself over you again.

“I did,” he mumbled against the soft skin of your neck. “I think I can wait a bit longer, though.”

You cursed at him, pulling hard at his hair. “I hate you.”

He chuckled low in your ear. “This doesn’t feel like hate.” He snapped his hips into you and stilled, circling your clit once, twice, three times before snapping into you again; he repeated the tortuous cycle again, and again, the tension in your body agonizing but fucking hell did it feel good. He worshipped your body, mouthing at your skin and groping at you with the hand not toying your clit, murmuring how much he adored you as he did. You were set aflame under his touch.

“Jack,” you whimpered in a broken voice. “Jack, please… please let me come, please.”

He thumbed you without pause then, determined, rhythmic circles over your swollen clit til your breath came in shallow pants and your hands clawed at the sheets, his name a pathetic plea on your lips.

“So tight,” he grunted, “Your pussy’s so fucking tight, baby.” His eyes were again locked on his own cock moving excruciatingly slowly in and out of you; his muscles strained with the effort of containing his own climax. You were so close, so close, if he’d go just a little faster and a little harder…

“Baby,” you nearly wailed. You threw your hands over your head to clutch at the headboard and force yourself harder down onto him, frantically trying to increase the friction of him against you. You were near tears, and with a burst of energy Jack slammed into you, pumping in and out of you at a frantic pace, stroking your clit til you finally broke, wave after wave crashing over you as you sobbed with relief. Jack abandoned your clit to grip your thighs as he chased his own release, fucking you roughly through the last of your orgasm.

“Fuck, gonna come, gonna… fucking… fuck….” His last thrust was bruising, his face contorted as he spent inside you, mouth dropped open in a crooked O before he fell into you again, the both of you grasping for air and each other. “Hate me, eh?”

“You’re such an asshole,” you laughed weakly.

He sighed into the kiss he pressed to your lips. “Will you stay the night?” You nodded, making a mental note to just call off work tomorrow rather than try to dash home for new clothes. “Good.” Another kiss.

You’d have to push him off eventually, shower, find a toothbrush. Have serious discussions about when to tell your families and whether and when to go Instagram official. For now you let him kiss you, and tell you how much he missed you. Loved you.

[zukump3]

s/o likes to bite pt.2 ✧ hcs

anon said: hi, i’d like to request a biting headcanon for bakugou, todoroki, and kaminari if you feel up to it. thank you so much!

warnings: none <3 i just wanted to write smth cute tbh

a/n: i’m assuming u wanted a continuation of my other biting hcs so here u go! i added izuku just cuz

it all started when he dropped you off at your dorm one day after a date

“i’m sorry i can’t spend the night y/n, i wanna get some more practice before i sleep... but i’ll see you tomorrow?” he would say sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck

“of course midoriya. i had a fun night.”

you’d lean in to kiss his cheek but instead of kissing it

you’d

bite it..

it was just a soft nibble of his chubby cheek in your mouth but it was enough to make him gasp

he was gonna ask why you did that but you had already shut the door

you two were in a pretty fresh relationship and izuku thought he knew everything about you..

how did he somehow not know about your biting habit?

ever since then, every time you lean in to kiss his cheek you bite it

it makes him a little flustered

“l/n, i have a question..”

“yeah?” you’d ask after nuzzling against his shoulder, and he’d smile softly at the sight of you all comfortable

“you’re always... biting me instead of kissing my cheek. do girls not kiss cheeks anymore? am i missing something?”

pls hes so lost when it comes to relationships and shit, it’s adorable

“zuku, you’re silly~”

and he goes x__x

“i don’t really know why i do it.. i just do! i’ve done it with people i’m comfortable with since i was little. i just... nibble them.”

“so you’re comfortable with me?”

it’s like the green haired boy would light up in realization

“duh, zuku. if i wasn’t i wouldn’t be dating you.”

you’d actually kiss his cheek after that, but he’d politely ask you to bite it instead 🥺

yay another thing he can bully you about

your relationship with bakugo is definitely not the standard romantic relationship a lot of people have

but like izuku, bakugo knows a lot about you

he’s very perceptive and saves a lot of information in the back of his brain

so he already knew you had a little habit for biting shit

you’d bite your lip a lot

you bit your tongue so many times during y’all’s relationship that neither him nor you can count the amount of times he’s had to clean the bleeding

but he never knew the biting habit would reflect onto him

you’d bite him when he would be cooking in the dorms kitchen

he was shirtless, so you were just placing some kisses along his back

and softly sunk your teeth into his spine

he’d jump a little in shock, looking over his shoulder at you like 🤨

“the fuck are you biting me for?”

“sorry! i didn’t mean to.” you’d answer him quickly, your smile tight

he’d glare at you but wouldn’t say anything and go back to cooking

ten minutes later and you’d bite him again, in the exact same spot

he would fully turn around now, lightly pushing you back

“quit biting me ya damn beaver!”

now you just bite him to annoy him

if you two were studying together and you’d start nibbling his bicep to pay attention, he’d groan so goddamn loud

“you’re like a snotty nosed kid!”

he would tease you but he’d never pull his body away from yours cause he secretly finds it cute

todoroki is: intrigued

he always found you cute and adorable, and found everything you did cute and adorable too

but he was never. Never expecting you to start biting him

the first time it happened was during some training

you were taking down heroes with everyone else to pass a quiz

you and todoroki would be in an alleyway, trying to form a plan together

he could feel how nervous you were and tried to calm you down, until he felt your hands grab his wrist and your teeth sink into his palm

he’d look at you blankly for a second before just stating

“you’re biting me.”

you’d just nod

he’d continue staring

“it calms me down todoroki! don’t judge me.”

“i’m not, i just wasn’t expecting you to start biting me.” he’d say cooly, his voice calming your nerves even more

after that he would probably corner you in his dorm to ask more about your habit

“so you do it when you’re nervous?”

“not just then!” you’d inform him. “it’s just a weird little habit i have. i do it to people i’m comfortable with too! like if i’m having a good time, i’ll just..”

and you chomp down on his arm

“bite.” he answers

“mhm. exactly.”

“i’m comfortable with you too. does that mean i bite you?”

“uh..” you’d laugh awkwardly at his blase question. “i mean, if you want to-“

and before you knew it, IcyHot would be biting against your neck which would make you tense and your palms sweaty

he’d just smirk

“i think i like biting you, y/n.”

his crush on you would go 📈📈 if you start biting him i don’t make the rules

you two have a cute weird friendship and do a bunch of weird shit together anyways

so he does not question your biting

you two would probably be play fighting one day and when he had you pinned, you’d stretch your head over and bite his wrist

“owe!” he’d laugh at you, snatching it away to your advantage. “did you just bite me?!”

“maybe!” you’d laugh back, continuing your play fight

now you bite him every time he acts up

if he makes a perverted comment about how good you look in that skirt today

you’d just roll your eyes, grab his hand and bite his finger

“ouch!! damn l/n, sorry! ...you do look good though.”

you didn’t bite anyone else in class 1-A so he instantly knew he was special because you saved your bites for him 🥺

he grew to become obsessed with them

he would hug you and bury your face in his neck just to feel you bite over his pulse point

ofc that would make him blush sooo badly

but he knows that’s your sign for informing him you’re comfortable with him and appreciate his company

“y/n... what would you do if i bit you back?”

“nut, probably.”

denki: 😏

[la-fille-en-aiguilles]

The Only Living Thing

Billy Russo x Female Reader

Warnings: Language.

Synopsis: You’ve been friends with BIlly Russo for as long as you can remember. Then, on that one night in New York, feelings get mixed up with the liquor that burns and everything spins out of control. So much for being the only living thing that Billy Russo has ever cared about... Or is it?  A/N: This just sort of happened. I may be writing more if you guys want, I think I can definitely take this further? I have a pretty hectic schedule but I might make it happen x

Song : Adam French - The Only Living Thing

New York, November 2019. 
 

Breathtaking. 


You are breathtaking, like the most beautiful view from atop the mountain or his biggest fear coming alive under his stare. 
 You’re a mix of excitement and terror, and you are enchanting enough to keep him on the tips of his toes, second-guessing everything, his every decision and every word... 

You are meant to leave him wanting more.

The night New York has never looked so good on a woman before.

Billy’s vision goes blurry for a second, his stomach hot and heavy.

You are glowing.

You radiate a kind of a warm sepia glow, so beautiful and genuine and so fucking effortlessy...

Smooth and unapologetic.
 


Messy strands of hair framing your face, your blushing cheeks, as you laugh your heart out, throwing your head back. Your pearl teeth flash in the dimness of the bar. Your thin black tights are torn at the thighs, your lips are red and irritated as you sink your teeth in, again and again.

Your laugh is flamboyant, intoxicating. Raw.

You are something else...

When suddenly, you see him, your black eyelashes fluttering as you wink at him. Billy’s chest feels too wide, too fragile and too hot. Do you see those unspoken words shining out of his drunken eyes?

When you make your way to him through the crowd, he’s paralyzed, afraid to move forward, afraid to scare you off, but mostly, afraid to let everyone see how desperate he is for your touch.

This is wrong, so fucking wrong, but why in hell when you come over, throwing your elegant arms around his neck, your cute perky nose touching his chest - it feels so. fucking. right?! Like you were custom-made for each other?...

Before he can stop himself, he slides an arm around your waist. You say something to him, something funny, for everyone around him snorts and chuckles, but his mind, his entire world - suddenly comes down to that spot just below his cheekbone where you plant a soft peck of your velvet pouty lips.

“Those twenty bucks we bet on? I win,” you half laugh, half exhale in his ear, your lips brushing against the lobe. “Madani is fucking obsessed with you”.

“Ah,” Billy smiles, both of his hands snaking around your waist now as he looks down at you.

...And I am fucking obsessed with us.

“And you just enjoy rubbing us - this! in her face right now, aren’t you?” he mutters instead, his temples buzzing with the gin and tonic he has been downing all night. 

God, he hopes you’re too buzzed to have noticed his slip of fucking epic proportions.

He promised himself he wouldn’t drink, not with you still around - because whatever it was that he felt for you mixed with liquid that burned equaled a very bad outcome. 

He might be well into the tipsy territory by now but Billy isn’t delusional. The chances that you would go back to his place or even kiss him back are entirely too slim.

Because friends don’t do friends.

Friends might as well become a new f-word for all Billy cares at this point.

When you throw your head back in an explosive laugh, Billy’s distracted. He gets an extensive view of your elegant neck, your delicate collarbones, but mostly - of the swell of your mouthwatering breasts, as your black silk top tightens over them. 

Fuuuuck him.

“Fuck you, Russo”, you echo his thoughts somehow as you wink at him once you’ve restored your breath, not stepping away from his embrace, however, letting him keep his hands on you. 

It’s always like this between the two of you. You’ve known each other for a while now - four, five years? After Billy bumped into you at a brunch at Liebermans’ and spilled his frappuccino all over your gorgeous rack. He wasn’t even going to come - but boy, was he glad he did - even though you wasted no time opening that sassy mouth of yours and verbally eviscerating him.

This wasn’t a love at first sight. 
 For you, at least.

“At least buy me a dinner first,” Billy barely manages, his vision a tad blurry.

He notices you giving him an unimpressed stare. Feeling stupid all at once, Billy blinks quickly and lets go of your waist...

Only to tremble on his feet and almost fall on his face.

“Heyyy,” he registers your breath on his cheek before he hears what you’re saying, your small hands holding him in place. Your touch burns through the fabric of his button down shirt as your palms slide up his sides to his shoulders. “You okay there, Russo?”

Billy squirms, chomping on his bottom lip as he grabs you by your elbows.

‘’M fine”, he says quietly, but doesn’t let go. When he lowers his stare to meet your eyes, he almost wants to cry. There’s concern in their bottomless depths, worry for him and desire to make it all better. He just wishes there was more heat there, and less of that f-word that ends with -riends.

“You don’t look fine, lover,” you retort, wiggling and pushing and pulling onto him until you’re snug under his arms and carrying his dead weight to the exit. “Let’s go get some fresh air, come on.”

Billy utters something half-heartedly, his head feeling like it’s filled with cotton. He didn’t even drink that much, as least he doesn’t think so. Must be your fucking intoxicating perfume, sweet but voluptuous and so fucking tempting...

Pure sin. 


Even drunk out of his fucking mind, he’s still the envy of every guy at that bar because he’s with a stunning, breathtaking, prettiest woman in the whole damn world that is you.

“If you were able to stand right now, that line might have gotten you laid,” you inform him with a laugh, basically carrying him to the exit on your shoulders.

Through the drunken haze, Billy realises he might have spoken those words out loud, but the terror is quickly replaced by...

“Are you shitting me?” He slurs, trying to stay vertical. “Are you saying you want me?”

By the time the words escape his mouth, you have pushed the exit door wide open and nudged him to step out. Losing his balance, Billy crashes into Frank, Stein and Madani, smoking outside.
 Dina’s eyes flash mischievously as you step out of the bar, immediately throwing your arms around Billy protectively, helping him to steady himself.

“Oh, so it’s common knowledge now, then?” Dina ventures, licking her lips bloodthirstily, her eyes never quitting yours. “You’ve finally admitted you want to drag that fine Caspian ass in your bed?”

The running joke aimed at Billy looking like a Disney prince feels out of place; all conversation is silenced out as you narrow your eyes at Madani, your grip around Billy’s waist instantly becoming tighter. Frank clears his throat in an attempt to defuse the awkwardness, but doesn’t intervene.

And Billy is... well, happy. Over the moon, actually, and still drunk off his ass.

Apparently, you have been wanting to drag his ass into your bed for a while now!

That does mean you see him more than a friend, right? 

What if... What if all this time you were just as hung up on him as he was on you, but neither of you had the balls to say anything?

In his picture perfect drunken world, Madani makes sense and his heart sings.

You want him.

If it were a Disney cartoon, animals would be singing and dancing around praising your couple. 

Frankie would have probably made a sick unicorn.

“Oh Dina”, suddenly your voice cuts right through Billy’s happy fantasy, and there’s way too much sass in that voice for it to belong to a Disney princess. “Just because your friend Sam here and your own desperate fan-girling ass carry a boner for some fucked up teenage fantasy that involves boinking Prince Caspian, doesn’t mean all women have that same one-track mind. Some of us can actually look past a dick and see a friend. So why don’t you lay off that Cosmopolitan and fuck off, vodka-cranberry sure ain’t making you brighter”.

Billy frowns, deep lines creasing his forehead.

Frank snorts with laughter, not even bothering to conceal his reaction. 
 
 You hold Dina’s hateful stare.

“Whatever, bitch” the latter one finally utters, throwing her cigarette away. “I never fucking liked you. Maybe after this your little fanboy here will see you for what you really are - a fucking coward and a tosser”, Billy’s stares at her in disbelief, his mind still foggy. Madani’s dark eyes flash dangerously in his direction. “Of all women, Russo... Karma is a bitch, isn’t she? Your little princess here only loves herself, lover. Get out while you fucking can”.

Smashing her shoulder into yours, Madani goes back into the bar, leaving equally dreary and awkward silence behind.

“What the fuck was that all about?” Frank isn’t laughing anymore as he folds his hands on his chest, giving you a questioning eye. 

You roll your eyes dismissively. 

“Well, she’s obviously shit-faced,” you shrug, sliding your hands off of Billy. “What, you’re surprised she hates me?”

It’s a whole another world there, in Billy’s head. Have you just distanced yourself from him after what Madani said? What, you thought he’s so drunk he wouldn’t fucking notice?

“...so just because I have basic restraint and actually appreciate a man as a friend, I’m a damaged bitch with a twisted sense of humour? Look, I don’t know, Frank”, you rub your eyes tiredly with the back of your hand.

“I do,” Billy suddenly chimes in hoarsely, his eyes bloodshot and dark, darker than usual, as they narrow at you. “Know. I know.” Billy stutters, then takes a deep breath. “That’s all I am to you then, sweetheart? A friend?”

Billy wavers a bit as he speaks, but his words are deadly. Your eyes pop wide open at his words, like Russo has just grown a penis on his forehead. Frank’s mouth forms a silent O.

And just like that, the tension is back.

“Well, of course you are my friend,” you say slowly, stretching out your hand in an attempt to grasp Billy’s wrist. Your eyes are searching his face, but he’s locked, like a goddamn prison cell. “You’re my friend and I love you”.

Wrong answer, if Billy’s expression is anything to judge by as he recoils  from your touch. His face is a mix of disappointment and anger, his lips a thin line as he turns away.

“Fucking idiot,” he mutters under his breath as he turns on his heels and makes a tentative step towards the bar. Only his body is ruled by gin and whatever shit he chased it with, so his feet get mixed up together. Billy trips over his own shoes. 

“Hey, easy there, tiger”, Frank, who’s been standing closer, grips Billy by his arm to help him keep his balance. “What’s gotten into you, man?”

Billy chuckles, throwing his head back, and that has got to be the most bitter sound you have ever heard. You shudder involuntary, watching Russo like a hawk.

“I would have given you the fucking world, you know that?” Billy stares you dead in the eye, grabbing the door handle in front of him. “You just keep fucking with my head like a fucking sadist, and I live by the shit you give me!” you blanch as Billy goes on with the program, hurt dripping from his mouth. “Must have always thought that should be some spectacular pussy you’ve been packing, totally worth all your shit”.

“Bill!” Frank calls him out sharply, his expression terrified. 

But the damage is done. 


Your eyes are brimming with tears, but you stay silent, unblinking. Your chest seems a little caved-in, but you hold your chin high as your trembling lips start to move.

“Fuck you, Russo”, you spit, “Fuck you, friend”.

The next thing he knows, Billy explodes in a fit of bitter laughter - even though all he wants to do is fucking cry.

This just goes to fucking show there’s no such thing as Disney fairytale in real life, is there?

“Oh don’t worry, friend, somebody will,” he promises you, swinging the door to the bar wide open. “Gonna go help Madani fulfil her teenage fantasy. While you can stay here, think about us fucking like rabbits and feel better about yourself”.

With those words thrown over his shoulder, he steps into the crowded bar, the sound of the door shutting behind him sounding final. 

Plot twist. Curtain falls.

Frank can’t even venture a look at you - he doesn’t even hear you breathing.

“He’s just piss off drunk, that’s it. He doesn’t mean it,” Castle attempts to do some damage control, even though he knows that that ship has most definitely sailed.

“Thanks, Frank,” he hears you say quietly, and as he raises his eyes, he catches the sight of you wiping your cheeks quickly.

You inhale slowly, closing your eyes and fisting your hands.

“Tell Karen and the guys I wasn’t feeling so hot, okay?” you ask, and there’s definitely pleading in your voice.

You never plead.

Before Frank can ever mutter anything about Karen having his head if he lets you walk away at night all alone, you wave at him dismissively. 

“I’ll see you”, you say as you collect your hair in a ponytail and walk off, your silhouette soon lost in the bustling New York night.

[fluffery]

Babygirl

You were scrolling through some prompts on Tumblr and quite a few of them had put a smile on your face, especially those that had couple-ish ones. You looked at your significant other who was sitting on the couch, looking at his phone and petting the cat absent-mindedly. Your heart was immediately filled with warmth.

You wasted no time in clicking Ctrl+S to save your files, shut the laptop and scooted onto him.

Yes, onto. Kinda made the cat angry and she left. Well, you wanted him to yourself so her leaving kinda made things easier for you.

His lips curved up a little bit as he wrapped an arm around your waist, switching both yours and his position onto a laying one, you still on top of him. “Yes, baby?”

You buried your face in his chest, having a silly smile on your face when he called you by that pet name. To be frank, you never were a big fan of those. But when those words rolled off his tongue as he locked his eyes on you, you just… Melt. Like there’s this fuzzy feeling that just Does Things To Your Heart.

Seeing how you were acting, he couldn't help but to let out an amused chuckle. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

You looked up at him with the ends of your lips very twitched up high. “Nothing. Just feel that I really do like hearing you call me baby.”

His eyebrows arched a bit at those words. “Should I call you ‘babygirl’ instead?”

You closed your eyes, trying to figure how it would be like if he said it with a soft tone. “Say it again?”

He put his phone by the small table and wrapped you in both his arms. Leaning in close to your ears, he whispered, “Hey, babygirl.”

Your gripped on his shirt tightened, and the giddy smile went up a notch, letting out a thrilled squeal and a muffled laugh.

He laughed along with you. “‘Babygirl’ sounds fine to me so why are you laughing? We’re not doing anything sexual right now.”

“I knowwww,” you whimpered. But you still relished in the surge of endorphin his words have made you feel. “It just… Give me that squeeze in my heart.”

“Princess?”

You grew embarrassed and your hands went up to cover his mouth, attempting to stop him from talking anymore.

He arched his head away and laughed. “Princess? Sweetheart? Darling? Honey? Pancake?”

“Stop it!” You hissed, your cheeks starting to flush with how well those words came out from his mouth, and how it started to drive you panting. “Also, Pancake?”

He kissed the tips of your fingers, no signs of the smile on his face fading away. “Pancakes are yummy, although I still prefer calling you babygirl.”

Your hands went from his lips to hugging him at his neck. “I like all of them, but ‘babygirl’ sounds the cutest out of all. Like… I’m really pampered.”

He lowered his head and pressed a firm kiss on the top of your head. “It will be a waste for me to not pamper you.”

You looked up at him, saw his warm smile that made you feel protected, appreciated, and loved. And once again, you renewed the realization that you were very much in love with him. “I lub you,” you said with a soft pout, your eyes still locked onto his.

His expression softened even more. You never knew how it was possible but that was not your problem to figure out. He nibbled the tip of your nose and replied in a whisper, “I love you too, babygirl.”

You lightly chomped on his chin as retaliation, earning a laugh from him. You then returned to rest your head by the crook of his neck, enjoying the moment in this shared embrace.

[vivilove-jonsa]

Are you doing the june prompts that you rebloged… cause if you are…

14 fries (for jonsa 😄) if you get some inspiration 💙

Hey Anon,

Thanks for the prompt! Hope you enjoy a Quarreling Roommates AU :D

**

Naked as his nameday, what in the hell did they just do? That was not how he’d expected that argument to go.

They’re always butting heads at the apartment, ever since she moved in. Oh, they’d been polite at first but, four months in, courtesy is wearing pretty thin.

They’ve known each other through Robb since they were all kids and, deep down, Jon supposes this fight and what followed might have been building for a long time now.

He acts like she’s the biggest pain sometimes and she’s pretended the same about him but he’s always enjoyed (and shamefully gotten off on) that tension between them to be honest. He’d just figured it was all one-sided and a secret to carry to his grave…until now.

It had started with them shouting over who ate the last of the loaded fries.

They’re awesome fries, the absolute, freaking best fries around. Loaded with cheese and bacon, seasoned just right. Jon had picked them up for his Friday night dinner aka treat on his way home from work…and someone had snagged the rest of them after he’d gone to change and left them on the counter unwatched.

Jon had returned to the kitchen to find an empty box and her standing there brewing some tea. Instead of just asking her about them, he may have come off a little accusatory. (Okay, maybe a lot accusatory. J’accuse!)

“It wasn’t me! It must’ve been Ghost!”

How dare she blame his angel of a dog who would never, ever steal Jon’s food? (Even as he’d been licking him chomps with a hint of ranch dressing on his nose as Jon defended him.)

Robb had thrown up his hands at last over their stupid french-fried quarrel and said he was going to take Ghost over to Jeyne’s until Jon and Sansa grew up and could behave in an amicable, civilized way again.

More heated words, standing in close proximity, a vulnerable look followed by a kiss and then?

I’m not sure Robb would label rutting like animals in heat on the living room sofa amicable or civilized.

She’d had the throw blanket from the sofa clutched around her when she’d gone to the bathroom a second ago, her red hair wild and her cheeks rosy. Actually, plenty of her creamy skin was looking rosy from his beard scraping across it.

He scrubs awkwardly at that beard of his when she comes out again back into their shared living room. “So, um…that was…”

“Yeah…it was…pretty, um…”

Blushing cheeks, chins dropping to their chests at the same time. What do you say to your roommate after you fucked, quite unexpectedly, for the first time?

He’s still naked. He wishes he had a blanket of his own at the moment. Or maybe he wishes she’d come back over here and share hers. He bites his lip, plucks up his courage and tells her so. Maybe he tells her some other things, too.

“Yeah?” she asks, smiling at his honesty.

“Yeah.”

They’re laughing quietly under the blanket when they hear Ghost’s tags jingling and the key in the lock a few minutes later.

“Oh fuck. I thought Robb would stay at Jeyne’s longer.”

Sansa just squeaks and slips under their blanket to hide.

Robb barrels in, striding towards the kitchen with a bag in hand, not noticing the naked man sitting under a blanket on their sofa nor the woman-sized figure crouched under it next to him.

“I forgot Jeyne’s working tonight so I bought you another order of those damned loaded fries while Ghost and I took a walk so maybe you two would stop fighting and I could have some peace and…”

He trails off as he finally looks Jon’s way, blue eyes narrowing.

Jon’s scrambling for something to say when the shape under the blanket speaks up. “Thank, Robb. That was very thoughtful of you. Could you and Ghost maybe take another walk now while Jon and I eat and keep working through our argument?”

“I, uh…I…you’re…we could…I…”

The stammering ends and Jon has never seen his friend vacate the apartment quicker.

He lifts the blanket off the naked Sansa by his side and grins at her. “We’re going to share this order of fries, are we?”

“I think I’m going to eat those fries since I was wrongly accused of eating the others.”

“And I have to watch you eat them?”

“Yes. I might relent and give you a few…or maybe you might like to eat something else.”

[randombtsprincessa]

Be My Teacher

All Rights Reserved. © RandomBTSPrincessa, Tulips98.

Author: Randombtsprincessa

Characters: Jeon Jungkook x Reader (She/Her) (2nd person written in third perspective)

Words: 2.2k

Genre: Smut/Fluff

Rating: Mature (18+)

Summary: You ask your best friend turned boyfriend to show you how he likes his blowjobs.

Warning: I am swerving dangerously in the Jungkook lane. Discussion on BJs, explicit smut scene, detailed description of oral (male receiving).

A/N: Happy Birthday to bunny boy Jeon Jungkook! Banner is by yours truly! Let me know how you like it, thanks!

Music Companion -  Myth Syzer - Bonbon a la menthe (Stwo Remix)

“So…you…hmm want, what?”

If you thought that you would get off scot free rolling your eyes at this moment, you would have. Granted, maybe it would’ve displayed a good bit of power play, considering you were on your knees but right now, it wasn’t about that.

At least, you were trying hard not to make it so – but it was so difficult when you were so used to doing so with him.

Jungkook was sat slouching in the easy chair in the living room of his ‘bachelor pad’. His legs parted, accommodating you to sit daintily upon your folded legs, already getting numb from the static position. The hem of his sweatshirt rose up just so, resting along his abdomen and giving you a tantalizing glimpse at his toned stomach.

For Jungkook, he would’ve opened his legs and allowed anything to be done to his body, because it was you. He had worked hard for you, and he knew you did the same for him. So when you’d moved in front of him, clad only in a soft cashmere shirt that was two sizes too big on you, it was obvious for him to turn off the game he was watching to give you all his attention

Especially, since you’d given him a smile that made hair rise up on the back of his neck and throat to go dry.

But when you’d sunk down, looking every bit the temptress that you were, innocent and big eyed and said that, well…he had to admit, he was confused and maybe mildly concerned.

“I want you to show me,” You repeated, slower for his benefit, “How you like head.”

Jungkook was already sitting up, elbows leaning against his knees. “Baby, it’s…you don’t have to, I mean, I don’t,” He was stammering, stumbling on his words as if he wasn’t an active young adult but then, he also knew that as your boyfriend, as your best fucking friend; he couldn’t allow you to think your blowing skills were subpar.

Considering that you and he had just recently gotten together after a brief stint of mutual pining and a clichéd confession. Nothing sexual, save a few minor kisses had happened.

“Kook,” He stopped at your sigh of his nickname. “Stop fretting so much; I just,” Your hands reached out, placing very deliberately on his knees, just shy of his elbows. “Want to make you feel good; just show me how you like it.”

The words were whispered, sending a small shiver down Jungkook’s spine. The earlier concerns about your sexual security in the relationship were long gone, replaced by the realization of your actual intentions.

You were teasing and gratifying him at the same time.

Fuck, how did he resist throwing you on to a bed and having his way with you for so long?

Very slowly, keeping his eyes on you as if you were going to pounce and chomp down on him, he returned to his slouching slump, hands bunching the hem of his shirt.

“I’d like anything you do to me.” He said finally.

“That’s nice, babe. I’d like to do what you want me to do.”

Fuck, Jungkook’s blood was racing, pounding through his ear drums. There was nowhere he could go, no where he could avert his eyes and by god…nothing more he wanted to do than fist your hair in his hands as you took his cock in your mouth.

“Okay,” He gritted his teeth, rubbing along the jean clad length of his thighs. “Okay.” He agreed.

Something glittered behind your eyes, something that he had been privy to for years now but was now on the receiving end of. It ignited a slow fire under his skin, flushing him with uncomfortable heat that signaled arousal.

He knew his cock was calling to her now, could almost hear its song, and he was absolutely sure you could.

He had this, he told himself.

You watched him headily, waiting his first instruction when you saw the same fire dancing behind his gaze that had made you approach him. You’d caught sight of him from his bedroom doorway, one hand fiddling with the remote and his leg bouncing.

Not the most alluring sight, you’d admit; but it was Jungkook. Would you be human if you didn’t find him absolutely delectable in any position?

And so, like a moth to his light, you drew closer, shucking off your trousers behind the couch.

“Unzip me, take it out.” He said and you blinked, accepting the first instruction and straightening.

Quick, eager fingers moved to the button of his jeans, deftly pulling the two sides of his pants together to undo the button, hooking your index around the zip to slide it down. Something nudged under your wrist and you couldn’t help but shoot me an impish grin.

Jungkook chuckled, his serious expression breaking like a storm cloud as he relaxed. His hips squirmed, rising up so you could pull the jeans and black briefs he wore down to the top of his thighs. The band constricted his legs, making him huff and tug them down lower till they were being kicked off completely, landing haphazardly somewhere behind you.

He watched your eyes run the length up his now naked legs, the muscles of his thighs flexing under the scrutiny when they paused at the one body part of his that required…no, needed, the attention right now. He wouldn’t be ashamed to confess, this whole thing was pretty damn exciting and it had reflected on his shaft, poking up and saluting you, infused with all his brain cells and then some.

“So,” His voice came out dry, gulping down saliva before trying again. “Um, touch it.”

Your pupils were blowing out, as you with no hesitation wrapped a hand around his base. Your grip was much looser than he was used to and he grunted in dissatisfaction. He looked at you, the twitch of your lips catching his attention.

“Tighter,” he ordered, a soft gasp escaping him when you immediately obeyed.

Minx, he laughed internally, you wanted him to be commanding? He’d give you what you wanted.

“Good girl,” He gave you a wide, all teeth showing grin when your eyes flashed up to him and fuck, he knew he’d hit the nail right on the head. “Now give it a tug.”

Your hand softened around the length, slowly rising up to the head before back down, repeating the action twice, thrice, four times. Jungkook let his head drop back, sighing in the relief of touch, of your touch. “Mm,” he glanced down at the dick, his head glistening with oozing precum and nodded at you. “Use it, make it wet before you use your mouth.”

The feeling of your thumb, rubbing along the softer, more sensitive head, dipping into the opening and collecting the near clear slick had him opening his mouth in a silent groan, feeling the pressure cause the liquid to drip down the shaft along with your hands, coating it in smoothness.

He looked down at you, your eyes fixed on his face, examining and relishing in each minute expression. His own eyes had completely blackened; the dark antelope eyes of his now blazing with restrained lust.

“Y/N,” His voice was hoarse, and he made no effort to appear cool and collected anymore. “Fuck, suck it. Please, take me in your mouth.”

Your gazes suspended for a full second, words no longer necessary. You kept your eyes on his, leaning in as slowly as you could, extending the period of anticipation for him when finally he could feel your hot breath waft across his glans. His eyes fluttered, unable to hold your eyes any further when you opened your mouth and deliberately placed the thick head on the very tip of your tongue.

It was experimental, being your first time sucking your new boyfriend and best friend’s dick. There was almost no taste of the skin itself, save for the near salty-sour combination of his precum. It flooded over your taste buds as you took him in deeper, pacing the inches, the width, finally letting it rest just at the back of your mouth, teasing your throat canal.

Over you, Jungkook had gone stiff. His eyes were closed, scrunched tightly, his big nose twitched, his bottom lip was gripped by his teeth so tightly you worried he’d bite it off.

You pulled his cock out, a ‘pop’ signaling him to grunt at the sudden loss of heat around him. He opened his eyes, looking at you.

“Relax, Kook,” You smiled, rubbing his head around the seal of your lips. “It’s just a blowjob.”

He so did not have this. Jungkook’s brain had short circuited, watching you with zero replies, zero retorts which was completely unlike him.

His eyes remained glazed when he saw you take him in again, deeper this time, your lips moving over the couple inches more that vanished inside the cavern of your hot mouth. He could feel your tongue laving over the vein on the underside of his cock, pressing onto the sensitive skin hard enough to send the jolt up to his diaphragm.

His hand moved, stroking over your head, feeling the smooth strands of your hair filter through his fingertips. The smell of your shampoo was in his nostrils, so familiar, so you and he wrapped a carefully collected bunch around his palm, examining the taut rein that he now held.

He had half a mind to yank, gently of course to not hurt or distract you from where you were still suckling on him but instead he chose to push you further down on him. He still had an eye on your face, taking in your sudden widening of the eyes and the parting of the mouth with satisfaction. He had one on you, he would’ve grinned – had your next move not scored you one more than him.

You dropped down on him with more force now, the tip of his cock brushing past the seam of your throat and straight past, breaching in. The muscles of your esophagus closed on him, further tightening in and Jungkook buckled under your hold, finally erupting in a restraint less moan that reverberated through the walls of the room and back to you. His hold tightened and slackened periodically, unable to make his mind to whether to guide you or just allow himself to be flooded away.

That one moan had you groaning as well, the feel of his copious slick coating your throat now having you close your own eyes and enjoying in just his sounds.

The taste of him, the musk of his skin surrounded you, invaded you and it felt so dirty but so enthralling, you wished for it to last forever. However, judging from the way Jungkook was squirming now, his hips canting and rolling to further get himself into you, mild thrusts accompanied by his grunting and groaning; you knew he was close.

His length throbbed, pulsated, engorging into your mouth itself, stretching your poor lips almost painfully but you’d be damned if you pulled him out now. Your hands catered to the rest of his length, slipping down to press down along his balls, tight and heavy from the building release you wanted deep in your throat.

“Babe – Baby – not going to last, god please,” His voice broke on the last syllable and you gave one final push to yourself, straining as you sunk down on him completely, your face almost burying into his lap.

And you gave one last, hard suck…

Jungkook came in a mess of trashing and choked expletives. His body arced off of the chair, nails digging into the arm rest and his feet bounced off the floor. His head bowed to his chests as he cursed heavily, none of them too coherent and you watched as his sweaty mop of hair flopped into his eyes. Thick streams of his release launched down your mouth, slipping down without even an effort to swallow while the rest painted across your lips and chin, dribbling over his clothes and skin as his violent climax nearly pushed you off of him.

You settled to rubbing your soiled hands over his length, set on milking out every drop of cum he had to offer, marveling when the rest of the clear, whitish liquid oodles out. He moaned at that, loud, swollen lips parting before he slumped back, boneless.

His fried brain didn’t stop him from grabbing onto you however, hold light around your wrist as he hauled you right off the floor and into his chest.

“Fuck; that was the best orgasm I’ve had in all my life and we didn’t even have sex yet.” He whispered; voice croaky from all the near screaming he did.

You laughed, your earlier bravado melting into shyness, your hands tugging at the sticky shirt that had become uncomfortable on your skin. You also needed to wash your hands.

“Kookie, let me up, I need a shower…and brush my teeth.” You tilted your own head against his, feeling him nuzzle against your chest for a moment, considering the request.

“Alright,” He huffed, releasing you so you could skip down the hall and shut yourself into his bathroom, leaving him behind to collect what wits he could find – an evil grin slipping onto his face at the prospect of returning the favor – before, his eyes drooped into a sated slumber.

[waitineedaname]

*chanting excitedly* 12 frenreylatta 12 frenreylatta 12 fr

I hope you like vampire and werewolf aus as much as I do <3

----

“Please stop nibbling on the guests.”

It was not a sentence Tommy ever expected to have to say, but life was full of surprises. A great deal of those surprises could be traced back to the monster of the night that he called a roommate.

Okay, maybe monster of the night was a little harsh. They were just a normal pair of dudes that happened to be a werewolf and a vampire cohabitating. It wasn’t a strange situation at all. At least, that’s what Tommy was trying to tell Gordon Freeman.

Tommy was not the oldest werewolf in the area, nor was he the most experienced, but he was confident in the statement that he was the least chaotic by a longshot. So when he found a new werewolf that morning, he decided it was probably a good thing he was the one giving anxious and confused Gordon Freeman a crash course in coming to terms with monsterhood. 

He’d ushered him over to his apartment as quickly as possible and did his best to field all of Gordon’s frantic questions. No, that wasn’t a feral dog he ran into the night prior. Yes, werewolves were real. No, he wasn’t sure who bit him, but once he found out, he’d give them a stern talking to. No, being a werewolf really didn’t change that much. Did he want a soda?

Tommy left Gordon on the couch, head in his hands as he grappled with the new information, and he went to grab the two of them something to drink. Now that he was thinking about it, something to eat wouldn’t be a bad idea either; he remembered being starving after his first transformation. He was scrambling eggs with his back to the living room when he heard a blood curdling shriek followed by the distinct sound of someone being punched. Ah, hell. He’d forgotten to tell Benrey what was happening. 

He sighed and turned back around to face the living room. Gordon had scrambled to the far side of the couch and was clutching his neck with an alarmed look on his face. Benrey was on his back on the floor, clutching his nose and groaning in complaint. 

“Bro, what the hell?” Benrey whined, slightly muffled behind his hands. “Why’d you hit me? Not cool.”

“You fucking bit me!” Gordon countered, gesturing wildly and revealing a chomp mark just above his shoulder in the process. 

“Benrey,” Tommy said, finding a balance between sounding patient and sounding like a scolding schoolteacher, “Please stop nibbling on the guests.”

“Boo, no fair.” Benrey made puppy dog eyes at him from the floor, and Tommy had to bite back a laugh at how ridiculous he looked. “He was right there.”

“It’s- You have to ask first. It’s just good manners!” Tommy insisted.

“Wasn’t gonna eat him.” Benrey sat up, rubbing at his nose. Tommy was relieved to see it wasn’t broken. “Just gonna freak him out a bit. Kiss?” He added, pointing to his nose. Tommy huffed out a quiet laugh and leaned down to kiss his nose. Gordon, in the meantime, was freaking the fuck out.

“Eat me?!” Gordon looked like he was about a second away from lunging out the window to get away from Benrey. “Is that something that could happen here?”

Benrey, unhelpfully, bared his sharp teeth and cackled. Tommy straightened and attempted damage control. “Gordon, this- uh, this is my roommate, Benrey! He’s- He’s a vampire, but he’s not going to eat you or dr- uh, drink your blood. Right?” He looked down at Benrey for confirmation.

“Nah.” Benrey was now sitting politely criss-cross on the floor. “You kinda stink. Probably got, uh, stink blood. Hey, are you supposed to be here?”

“A vampire,” Gordon said instead of answering, “A fucking vampire. First werewolves and now vampires…” He trailed off as he put his face in his hands again, mumbling to himself. 

“This is Gordon Freeman,” Tommy said, “He got turned into a werewolf last night.” He sent Benrey a look that he hoped conveyed “please be nice, he’s had a long day.” 

Benrey nodded. “Cool. Is he supposed to be here though?”

“Dude, Tommy invited me in here!” Gordon interjected. “I didn’t just break in to have a panic attack on your sofa!”

“What? You broke in here? Not cool, man. Fucked up.”

“I just said-”

“Hey, so is Tommy your pack now?” Benrey interrupted him, standing up from the floor to instead perch like a gargoyle on the armrest of the couch. Gordon leaned away from him, but didn’t look like he was going to flee quite as much any more. 

“My- What?” Gordon blinked and looked at Tommy, bewildered. “Is that a thing?”

Tommy shrugged. Packs weren’t really as prevelent as they were centuries ago, but Benrey was a lot older than he seemed, so Tommy wasn’t surprised he brought it up. “Kinda? You don’t- Not all werewolves are in a pack. But it can be nice to have people who understand what you’re, uh. What you’re going through.” Tommy walked over to sit between the two of them on the couch. 

“Do… you have a pack?” Gordon asked, looking like he was questioning the bizarre course his life seemed to be on. Tommy hummed contemplatively.

“Not a traditional one. The only other werewolf is Dr. Coomer, and Benrey and Bubby are vampires. Bu-, uh, But-” Tommy smiled brightly at Gordon, “We make a pretty good pack!”

Benrey slid off the armrest and into the space between Tommy’s lap and the armrest. Gordon watched him with wary suspicion, but his expression softened when looking at Tommy. He stared at the two of them for a second, then sighed and ran a hand down his face. “What even is my life,” He said, his words accompanied by a slightly hysterical laugh. 

“It’s not that bad, bro,” Benrey spoke up. “Don’t even gotta change much of your life. You’ll just dogboy sometimes.” Gordon made a strangled noise in the back of his throat at that, but Tommy cut in before he could say anything.

“He’s right! It’s not- Being a werewolf is okay. And you-” Tommy hovered a hesitant hand over Gordon’s arm, then gently placed it down on his forearm, squeezing in a way he hoped was comforting. Gordon raised his eyebrows but didn’t pull away, “You don’t have to- to be in our pack or anything, but I’m happy to help in whatever way you need!”

Gordon shifted and Tommy pulled his hand away quickly, but Gordon took his hand in his own before he could get far. “Thanks, man. This is not how I expected my day -- fuck, my life, I guess -- to be going, but I’m glad I’m not having to just stumble through this on my own.” Tommy beamed at him. Gordon glanced up at Benrey over Tommy’s shoulder and pointed an authoritative finger at him. “You. Don’t fucking bite me again, okay? I’ve been bitten twice in the past, like, twelve hours, and that’s more than enough.”

“Huh? Calm down, maybe?” was Benrey’s eloquent response. Gordon narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to complain, but cut himself off with a sniff. 

“Hey, uh, is something burning?”

“Shit!” Tommy jumped to his feet and raced to the kitchen. He made a despondent noise as he took the eggs off the heat. 

“Tommy, it’s okay.” Gordon had stood and followed him to the kitchen. “I don’t mind eating something burnt. Hell, I’m so hungry, I might take a bite out of this jerk as payback,” He said, gesturing at Benrey.

“Whuh, you’re gonna bite me?” Benrey grabbed a blood pack out of the fridge, puncturing it with one of his teeth like a fucked up Capri Sun. “That’s so gross, why would you bite people.”

“Wh- Oh, come on.” Gordon sounded exasperated, but he also sounded a little like he wanted to laugh. They spent the rest of the morning like that, the two of them bickering while Tommy and Gordon shared burnt scrambled eggs at Tommy’s kitchen table. Though Gordon didn’t say anything for certain, Tommy felt warm and happy every time their arms brushed at the table. It would be nice to have another werewolf in the pack.

[thirstyforcharacters]

4. From the Coldest Winter to the Hottest Summer

Part 4 of 4 of the Winter Storm Warning Series

Summary: You and Poe are finally getting along. It leads to something that neither of you really expected.

Notes: And it’s finally here! Sorry for the wait, for some reason, I couldn’t get any inspiration for the smut scene, but it finally hit me today! If this is the first time you’re seeing the Winter Storm Warning series, you can catch Chapters 1, 2, and 3 here! You don’t necessarily have to read the first three chapters to read this piece, but it’ll give you the context you need for the backstory! I hope you enjoyed this winter inspired series! (use of she/her pronouns, no y/n)

Warnings: smut! 18+ only! dry humping, spanking, sir kink, soft dom! poe

WC: 2.8k

When you woke up the next morning, Poe was already gone.

This wasn’t really a surprise to you, but you couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed. You were hoping to wake up with him still cuddled into your side; unfortunately, life doesn’t always work out the way you want it to. You rubbed the remainder of the sleep that was still clinging to you from your eyes and stood up from the bed, stretching your achy limbs. You felt your nose and found that though it certainly wasn’t perfect, it was beginning to heal. Good. You didn’t fancy having a messed up nose. You folded up the raggedy blanket and placed it on the bed, since you didn’t know where Poe got it from. You made your way back to the hangar, where Poe was talking to someone on his holo.

“Why did you leave her in the bed? That’s prime snuggling time!”

You realized that voice was Finn at the same time you realized that most likely, they were talking about you. You ducked back into the hallway, but still listened in on the conversation.

“Because, Finn, I can’t. We hated each other not 24 hours ago (yeah, they were definitely talking about you).”

“And? You’ve always found her attractive, haven’t you?”

Wait, what? Is that what Finn and Rey had been whispering about yesterday?

“Well, yeah. Doesn’t mean I didn’t hate her. You can find someone hot and still desperately want to punch them in the face.”

You heard Finn chuckle, “I guess not. But I don’t think she hates you anymore. And clearly, you don’t hate her either. So what’s the big deal about a little early morning snuggle?”

“I just… didn’t want to assume, I guess,” Poe mumbled back.

You could practically hear Finn rolling his eyes, “You’re a grade-A dumbass, Dameron. You should’ve just stayed in bed with her.”

“Whatever. I’ll see you soon, Finn.”

“See you two later.”

You waited in the hallway to a few minutes, listening to Poe humming a Yavinese lullaby under his breath. He had a nice voice. Eventually, you revealed yourself, though you knew you couldn’t say what you had just overheard. You tried to play in casual.

“Morning,” you said as you walked through the entryway.

He waved back, “Looks like the storm has finally settled. Think it’s about time we head home.”

“Agreed,” you replied, taking out one of your ration bars and chomping on it, “can’t wait for some real food.”

He nodded in agreement, “Yeah. Though the stuff we have back at base isn’t too much better.”

The two of you continued to make some small talk as you trudged through the snow back to the Falcon. It was nice, pleasant almost. It was a complete 180 from what your relationship was merely 24 hours ago. You had hated each other as long as you knew each other, but now, it almost seemed like you were friends. You knew that you had agreed to be so, but it still surprised you that the turn around was so quick. You weren’t complaining, though. It was nice.

It wasn’t long before you made it back to the Falcon. As he went to the cockpit, you made your way to the heating system and turned it up high. You definitely earned it. After that, you walked to the cockpit yourself, where Poe was already preparing for takeoff.

“Thought I’d turn on the heat,” you told him, plopping down into the co-pilot’s chair.

“Thank goodness,” he joked, “thought I was going to turn into a wampa.”

You chuckled softly and assisted him with the takeoff sequence. Soon, you were hurtling into space. Once you were in hyperspace, Poe turned on autopilot and the two of you enjoyed some relaxation time. The silence was comfortable, which was new, but certainly not unwelcome. The heat of the Falcon was starting to lull you to sleep, but you realized that you had forgotten to take off all of your winter gear. You knew you would start sweating buckets if you left all of that on, so you stood up to take it off.

“Where are you going?” Poe questioned, turning his head toward you.

“Oh, I’m not leaving,” you answered, “just taking some of this off.”

He nodded and returned his gaze to the window. You removed your gloves first and stuffed them in the pockets of your coat. You then went to take off your jacket, but the zipper was stuck. You tugged on the stubborn article, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Poe?” you asked sheepishly, “could you help me with this? The zipper’s stuck.”

“What, the big, strong admiral can’t unzip her jacket,” he teased.

You rolled your eyes, “Oh, shut up. Just help me, please.”

He rose his hands in surrender, “Alright, alright. I’ll help you.”

He stood up and came over to you. As soon as he was in front of you, you were regretting all of your life choices. You were staring directly into his deep brown eyes, his lashes framing them perfectly. His chest was almost pressed to yours, and you could feel both his body heat and his scent permeating your senses. You had never been this close to him, except for last night when he was asleep. This was definitely worse.

He seemed to notice the tension as well, because he immediately broke eye contact and looked at the zipper. He started messing with it, toggling it up and down in an attempt to get it unzipped. While he was working, you couldn’t help but notice the furrow in his brow as he concentrated, or when he subconsciously licked his lips while he was focused. You could feel your heart rate rising, but you tried not to let it show. Since when did he affect you this much?

“Ah, there we go,” he murmured quietly as he finally was able to tug the zipper down.

“Thanks,” you whispered breathlessly.

Even though the problem was taken care of, neither of you stepped away. Instead, you shrugged the jacket off of your shoulders; it fell to your feet, revealing the thin undershirt you had on underneath. You heard him swallow; if you didn’t already know he felt the tension, you certainly knew now. Almost subconsciously, his hand drifted upwards, and his fingers gently ran across your cheek. The contrast of the calluses on his fingers and the smooth skin of your cheek made you shiver. You took his hand and tilted it toward you, pressing a soft kiss to the palm of his hand. You felt him shudder, and your eyes moved up to meet his. You both seemed to have the same realization at the same time; there was no coming back from this. And you knew you were okay with that.

“Can I help you with yours now?”

You hated how small your voice sounded, but you were nervous. This was uncharted territory for both of you, a place that the two of you had never been in together. You weren’t sure what exactly was going to happen, but you knew that you wanted it. You just hoped that Poe was on board, too.

“S-sure,” he stuttered in reply while removing his gloves.

You reached for his zipper and tugged it down. His wasn’t stuck, so it glided down smoothly, and he removed the jacket, revealing his undershirt. Both fortunately and unfortunately, the shirt was clinging to his torso from the sweat. You didn’t want to stare, but you couldn’t help yourself. Luckily, Poe seemed just as distracted by you as you were by him, so he didn’t comment on it.

You could feel his eyes on you as you bent down to remove you snowboots. He watched your fingers as you deftly untied the laces and slid them off your feet. You sat on the floor and took off your heavy pants, leaving you in a thinner, tighter pair of pants and a soft pair of socks. You looked up at him, and you could feel his eyes wander up your legs, staring at your strong calves and supple thighs. You knew now was as good a time as any to go for it.

“Would you like me to take yours off, too? While I’m down here and everything.”

His eyes widened slightly, “Alright. Might be easier to do the boots while I’m sitting down.”

You nodded in agreement, and he sat back down in the pilot’s chair. You kneeled in front of him, lifting one of his feet on your legs. You untied the laces and slid it off, repeating the motion with the other one. You could hear his breath hitch when your fingers began trailing up his calves.

“I could take off your snow pants too, if you’d like.”

He nodded eagerly, and your fingers wandered from his calves to his thighs. You could feel the muscles clenching beneath your touch, and you knew he was a goner. You were too; just the feeling of his thighs beneath your fingers was getting you aroused. Your fingers moved further upward, and you undid the clasps holding the pants up. You beckoned for him to lift his hips up, and he complied, allowing you to slide the outer layer down his legs and onto the floor, leaving him in the same thinner, tighter pants you were wearing underneath your uniform. Now, your eyes widened slightly as you saw a slight bulge in his pants.

He saw where you were looking and gulped, “Sorry, I didn’t mean-”

You cut him off, “It’s fine. Promise. I can take care of that if you want me to.”

“Only if you want to,” he replied, “I don’t want you to feel pressured into anything.”

You smiled softly at him, “Of course I want to. I did offer, didn’t I?”

He blushed slightly, “Yeah, I guess so. But I don’t want you like this. I mean, I’m sure your mouth feels great, but I want to get you off too.”

“How gentlemanly of you,” you quipped.

“Oh stop,” he groaned.

“Sorry,” you replied, “can’t help teasing you every once in a while.”

“Wouldn’t be us if we didn’t,” he responded, “why don’t you come up here?”

You listened, rising from your knees until you were standing before him. You looked at him, pretending you didn’t know what he wanted; even though you did know, you still wanted to tease him a little.

He patted his thighs, “Have a seat, Admiral.”

The dominance of his tone combined with the use of your title made you weak at the knees, and you complied immediately, straddling his thick thighs and just hovering above the place you needed each other the most.

“Wasn’t exactly planning on this happening, so I don’t have any sort of protection on me, but that doesn’t mean we can’t still have a little fun,” Poe murmured, “come closer, darling.”

You quirked up an eyebrow, confused, “I don’t really know how I can get closer.”

He smirked and yanked your hips down so your core was flush against the outline of his cock, “Like this.”

“O-oh,” you stammered, your face growing warm from the feeling of his hardness against you.

You never realized that badly you wanted this, how badly you needed this. Maybe all of your arguing had been sexual tension this entire time. Maybe you never really hated him after all.

Your train of thought was interrupted by Poe moving your hips against his. Soft whimpers fell from your lips as you began to grind down on him in earnest. Though you knew you were turned on, you were almost embarrassed by how wet you were before you even started grinding on him. Now, you were almost sopping wet; you’d be shocked if you didn’t start soaking through your thin trousers.

Poe’s hands gripped your hips harder, forcing you to speed up your actions. Your hands splayed out on his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath your fingers. More moans spilled from your pillowy lips as he began sponging wet kisses down your neck. The juxtaposition of the rough way he held your hips and the gentleness of the kisses he was giving you made your head spin. Though you wouldn’t say you were sexually inexperienced by any means, you knew that no one you had been with before made you feel like this. Maybe because you had never truly submitted to anyone. The people you had slept with were too afraid to dominate you since you were their boss, but the way Poe was being gentle, yet commanding at the same time made this the best experience you had ever had. And he wasn’t even inside you.

A small nip on your neck made you squeak and brought you back to the present. You hadn’t even realized that you had stopped moving until his fingers dug into your hips harshly.

“Stay with me, darling. Keep zoning out on me,” Poe told you with an air of authority.

“Sorry,” you whispered, resuming your motions.

“Don’t stop until I tell you to,” he commanded.

You murmured a quiet “yes sir,” before rolling your hips onto his again.

He groaned softly into your ear, “Say that again.”

You smirked a little bit, “Oh, you like it when I call you sir?”

A smack landed on your ass, making you cry out in surprise.

“Don’t be a brat, now. Want you to be a good girl so I can make you feel good.”

“Sorry, sir,” you moaned when his hand landed on your other cheek, “I’ll be a good girl, I promise.”

You ground on him a bit faster to prove your point, allowing one of your hands to thread between his curly locks. He moaned at the feeling and moved against you, your hips moving in tandem with the common goal of getting you both off. His cock twitched against you, and you knew it wouldn’t take him too much longer to get there. You knew it wouldn’t take you much longer either; you could see your wetness beginning to soak through your think pants. Poe could too, apparently, because he removed one of his hands from your hips and ran it overtop of the wet spot on your trousers.

“So wet for me, darling,” he nearly growled, “think you’re gonna come soon?”

“Y-yes sir. Please,” you whined, raking the hand still resting on his chest down his abdomen.

He cursed under his breath and slammed his lips against yours in the first real kiss you two had shared. It was messy, but that didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy it. His tongue licked into your mouth as his hand travelled from the outside of your pants to the inside. His fingers quickly found your clit, and rolled the nub between his fingers. You whimpered brokenly into his mouth, so close to your release. He released your lips and tugged on your earlobe with his teeth, making you whine again.

“Please sir,” you begged, “need to come, please.”

“Such a good girl,” he murmured, “so polite. Go ahead, Admiral. Come whenever you need to.”

All you needed was his permission, and you came the hardest you ever had. Your orgasm washed through you in waves, and you cried out desperately as you continued to grind against him, both to help you ride out your orgasm and bring Poe closer to his.

“That’s it, darling. Fuck, you feel so good against me. I’m so close. Gonna make me cum,” Poe groaned.

You were barely coherent from the intensity of your orgasm, but you still managed to say, “Want you to, sir. Want to feel you cum against me.”

That was all it took for him to spill into his pants. You could feel the cum pulsing out of him through the thin layers separating your bodies. For a while, you just sat there, breathing together. His arms wrapped around your waist and your arms wound around his neck. You laid your head on his shoulder, nuzzling into his neck.

After a bit of silence, Poe broke it by saying, “Well, that was nice.”

“Yeah,” you replied, “that was good.”

“Would you want to do it again sometime?”

“I’d like that a lot.”

You had gone from enemies to friends to lovers within a day, but you didn’t regret a thing. Not when you returned to the Resistance base hand in had while everyone stared at you, not even when Finn, Rey, and all of Poe’s pilot friends teased you mercilessly, and especially not when three years later, Poe presented you with his mother’s wedding ring, asking for your hand in marriage. The only thing you regretted was not falling for him sooner.

[themurphyzone]

Nova Ch 12

AN: I’ve been waiting to write this chapter for so long! Can you believe it’s been a year since I started this story? 

Ch 12: Mare

AO3 Link

Dear Mickey Mouse Calendar, 

It’s May 2nd, and you know what that means! Well, besides bringing May flowers of course! The flowers are going to be so beautiful this year, I can tell! Especially once they bring the butterflies and the birds and the bees! Oh dear, do you think Brain knows about the factory in the sky that produces cute little mouse babies? I hope so. 

Anyway, the beautiful, lovely, fantabulous Pharfignewton’s gonna be running in the Derby in just a little bit! She’s worked really really hard to get this far, and I’m super proud of her! She’s gonna be one step closer to the Triple Crown when she wins! 

Anyway, I’m running out of room on this page, so I just wanted to say I love you, Figgy Pudding! May the best mare win!

Love, 

Pinky 

o-o-o-o-o

Pinky added a heart by his name with a sparkly pink gel pen and blew a kiss to the image of Mickey and Minnie driving a cute little car into the sunset. Then he recapped the pen, washed his hands of extra glitter, and returned to the TV, which had been tuned into the Kentucky Derby for the past two hours. 

They were still conducting pre-race interviews with the owners, jockeys, and trainers. Though there were several saddled horses with colorful numbers in the background, none of them were Pharfignewton. 

But they were still very beautiful horses, clopping around on the dirt-covered track as they flicked their ears and tails in anticipation of the race.  

Several boxes of leftover pizza and paper plates were laid out in front of the television.. It was so nice of the scientists to throw a pizza party and let them have the leftovers! Pepperoni, mac and cheese, and pineapple pizza were all so delicious, and they tasted even better when all three were combined on a single slice! 

Pinky popped a pineapple cube in his mouth, giggling as it stung his tongue. Then he turned to his hat, which laid a short distance away from the leftover pizza so it didn’t get soiled. Lovely, glittery red and purple roses decorated the outside of the hat, and every inch was decked with colorful feathers, encouraging messages, and Pharfignewton’s name so everybody for miles around could see he was rooting for his favorite horse. 

Since the hat was too big and heavy for him to wear throughout the pre-race festivities, he decided to just put it on a few minutes before the race instead.

And it was so sweet of Gummy, Madame Daisy, Nicholas, and Mr. Button to support Pharfignewton! They were all gathered in front of the TV so they could watch the Derby too! 

Pinky’s ear twitched at a gagging noise on his left, and he turned his head just in time to see Brain spit a chunk of pineapple onto a napkin. 

“Of all things, why in Selene’s name would you ruin perfectly good cheese with battery acid?” Brain snapped. He immediately dunked his muzzle into a thimble of water. 

“Batteries aren’t a pizza topping,” Pinky said. Did batteries look like pineapples on New Selene? “And pineapple pizza tastes delicious!” 

Brain scowled as he shoved the paper plate with his barely touched pineapple pizza slice towards Pinky, then grabbed a new plate and loaded it with two slices of pepperoni. 

“I’m outlawing that vile piece of filth you call food as soon as I rule the world,” Brain declared. 

“You can’t do that!” Pinky cried. What was next? Declaring pumpkin spice illegal? He would never support such an awful law! “That’s...that’s just unconstitutional! A breach of power! I won’t stand for it, Brain!” 

Then he realized he was standing up to grab the pineapple pizza slice, so he promptly sat down and chomped on pineapple, tomato sauce, and bread to prove his point. 

Brain wrinkled his nose, but before he could reply, the TV panned to show a beautiful, gray-maned white horse prancing in circles around her jockey, nearly tying him up in her reins. 

“That’s her! That’s Pharfignewton!” Pinky yelled, spewing tomato sauce from his mouth. “Hi, Fig! It’s me, Pinky!” 

Pinky quickly set his pizza down and slipped the hat on, sitting underneath the brim while the rest of the hat was propped against the counter. He hoped Pharfignewton could see the messages he’d written. 

“The cameras aren’t two-way, Pinky,” Brain said, but Pharfignewton whinnied happily, so Pinky knew she could hear him from thousands of miles away! 

She wore a beautiful pink cloth over her back with the number fifteen emblazoned in white, with a brown saddle on top. She tossed her head back and whinnied, her reins quivering in the sunlight. Her jockey slipped a pink mask over her face, and when she turned to look at the camera, her gorgeous blue eyes stood out even more. 

“You have quite the unusual horse here, Mr. Gardner,” the reporter said to Pharfignewton’s owner, who Pinky recognized by his bushy beard. “Not much of a looker, nor was she sired from any famous line of racehorses. And only one fellow’s bet on her at all.” 

Pinky frowned. Not much of a looker? That reporter’s obviously never seen Pharfignewton with the wind flowing through her mane, or the joyful neighs whenever she galloped around a field, or how she practically glowed whenever she ran. 

Mr. Gardner leveled a glare at the reporter, who withered from the intense look. “Pharfignewton may have a different build from her fellow racehorses, but she’s a hundred times more passionate about racing than anyone else. It’s true that neither of her parents have competed on the national level, but she’s inherited her mother’s spirit and her father’s diligence, a mixture of traits which will suit her well today.” 

“Yes...I’m sure it will,” the reporter muttered. His eyes darted to a chestnut horse with a yellow cloth draped over his back. “Oh, would you look at the time? I don’t believe I’ve gotten a chance to talk with Mayoneighaise’s team yet!” 

He scurried off, the cameraman trailing behind him. 

A board flashed onscreen, showing the horses’ names and numbers before cutting to commercial. 

“Mr. Legs? Friendly Neighborhood Racehorse? Is this entire competition just an excuse to saddle these poor creatures with horrific names?” Brain asked over the noise of a car commercial. 

“You can’t saddle a name. You saddle horses, Brain,” Pinky said. Brain could be so confused sometimes. 

“And they barely gave Pharfignewton the time of day,” Brain added. “But they dedicated a full fifteen minutes to Arabian Night’s training sessions.” 

Pinky shrugged. “Well, Arabian Night worked really hard. He deserved that time. And so does Maximus and Maverick and Black Beauty and Rainbow Dash and-” 

“It’s blatant favoritism,” Brain cut in. 

The commercial break ended, and the broadcast showed a female reporter approaching an enormous, muscular black stallion with a comically small jockey leading him by the reins. He bore a royal purple cloak with number one written in a fancy golden script on his back. The horse was so dark that Pinky could barely see his eyes or mouth. 

“And here we have the clear fan-favorite, Daddy’s Little Angel,” the reporter declared as she carefully approached the horse, who huffed when she got too close to his muzzle. She pulled back, keeping her microphone close to her body. “An excellent track record locally and regionally, highest odds tonight, and a descendant of the famous Triple Crown winner Secretariat. He sure has a lot going for him, don’t you think?” 

Daddy’s Little Angel was stoic and handsome, and as his owner and trainer listed off his various accomplishments, Pinky crossed his fingers and toes for good luck. Pharfignewton had a whole lot of competition. Sure, she was the fastest racehorse around these parts, but in the Derby she was a small goldfish in a large aquarium full of other fish. 

“Zort! Nope, can’t think like that!” Pinky said, thumping his head with his fist. He didn’t want to have doubts about her talent! She was the best, the swiftest, and the fastest at eating apples and hay! There’s no way she could lose! 

“Quiet, Pinky. I’m trying to listen,” Brain said. His pink eyes gleamed with interest as a montage of Daddy’s Little Angel’s previous feats flashed across the screen. “I wouldn’t be opposed to owning a horse like that for ceremonial purposes.” 

“Parading around on Pharfignewton sounds lovely,” Pinky sighed dreamily. 

He imagined Pharfignewton in a beautiful golden outfit, bells on her reins, and prancing down the street to a cheering crowd while he rode on her back. And there were pretty parade floats and celebrities singing and giant balloons of all his favorite characters! 

He was broken out of his fantasy by the sound of a fanfare. 

“Attention, all riders and horses! Clear the track and proceed to your stalls! The race will commence shortly!” the announcer declared. 

The camera lingered on Daddy’s Little Angel for just a little longer before panning out for a wide shot of the horses and jockeys making their way to the starting point, the trainers leading the horses by the reins and securing them in the stalls. 

Fifteen horses dressed in colorful racing garb whinnied and bucked their hind legs in anticipation of the race. Daddy’s Little Angel was in the first stall, the one nearest to the fence. Next to him, a majestic, stout white horse named Maximus took the number two slot. Like Daddy’s Little Angel, he was poised, calm, and determined to win. 

Most of the other horses were far more impatient though. Rainbow Dash wouldn’t quit stomping in her stall, and Maverick gave her a warning nip when her tail flicked him one too many times. She didn’t like that at all, and both jockeys fought to get their horses under control. 

A cinnamon stallion named Spirit thrashed in his stall, nearly throwing his rider off multiple times while two other people tried to calm him down. 

Then they finally showed Pharfignewton. She was in the stall closest to the stands, and while she was penned securely, the workers were all focused on the skittish racehorses. 

Pharfignewton flashed a horsey smile to the audience, then lowered her head in anticipation for the race to begin. 

Pinky’s fingers, toes, and tail were all crossed. She had to win! This was her dream ever since she was a little filly!

“And they’re off!” the announcer declared as the bell rang and the gates opened. All fifteen horses galloped out of the stalls, kicking up dirt as their hooves thundered against the ground. “Daddy’s Little Angel and Maximus off to an early lead! Horsin’ Around’s pulling ahead of Tricky Mickey and...oh! Spirit’s bucked his jockey! That’s gonna cost everyone behind ‘em some time!” 

The names and number display at the bottom of the screen shifted around as horses pulled ahead or fell behind. 

Pinky’s muscles tensed as Pharfignewton swerved to avoid a riderless Spirit, though Achilles’ Heel was unlucky enough to be caught on a back ankle by a flailing hoof. Pharfignewton fell behind Mr. Legs and Mayoneighase for a split second before increasing her speed and passing them as they reached the first turn.

Pharfignewton was truly in her element! Like a happy, gusty wind spirit! 

“YOU CAN DO IT, FIG!” Pinky screamed at the top of his lungs, and there was an angry shushing noise, followed by a parmesan packet smacking the side of his head. “Thanks for the parmesan, Brain!” 

“Onto the second turn!” the announcer continued. “Daddy’s Little Angel and Maximus neck and neck! Rainbow Dash and Arabian Night fighting for third a mere two lengths away! Maverick trying to squeeze in but there’s no room! Hold onto your fancy hats, folks, this is shaping up to be a wild race!” 

Egad, he didn’t want to lose his fancy hat! Pinky clutched the edges with cheese-stained fingers. 

“Daddy’s Little Angel and Maximus still leading the pack, but trailing them is Black Beauty and Grand Chawhee! Rainbow Dash and Arabian Night have fallen to fifth and sixth! Friendly Neighborhood Racehorse trying for a comeback while Maver-what’s this? Pharfignewton’s clawing her way up from tenth, ninth, eighth, seventh...now she’s passed Rainbow Dash! Ladies and gents, this could be the biggest recovery in the Derby’s history!” 

Oh, if only he remembered where he’d placed his cotton ball pom-poms! They’d come in super handy right now! 

Black Beauty and Grand Chawhee slowed down on the final turn, enabling Pharfignewton to easily overtake them for third place. Then she poured on the speed, closing in between Daddy’s Little Angel and Maximus.

“NARF! GO, PHARFIGNEWTON!” Pinky screeched, his hat tumbling off as he leapt to his feet. If he screamed loud enough, Pharfignewton could hear him all the way in Kentucky! And the power of friendship always worked for last-minute wins! His cartoons were never wrong! 

“It’s a straight shot to the finish! Maximus falls back by half a length! Ladies and gents, could this be the greatest upset in horse racing history? It’s Pharfignewton! No, Daddy’s Little Angel pulls ahead! Now Pharfignewton! Daddy’s Little Angel!” 

Brain was quiet, but from the twitch of his pointed ears and the way he leaned forward, Pinky knew he was just as invested in the race. 

The camera centered on the finish line, but Pinky couldn’t tell who crossed first. Pharfignewton and Daddy’s Little Angel galloped offscreen just as the rest of the pack, led by Maximus, finished after them. 

“WHAT’S THIS? PHARFIGNEWTON AND DADDY’S LITTLE ANGEL HAVE CROSSED THE FINISH LINE AT THE SAME TIME! TURNING THE FOOTAGE OVER FOR REVIEW SO WE CAN DECLARE THE WINNER!”

Pinky quickly found that crossing his toes while standing wasn’t the best idea. He fell flat on his face, but quickly pushed himself up on his elbows as the Derby logo flashed by and replayed the last few seconds of the race in slow motion. 

Pharfignewton and Daddy’s Little Angel’s legs were just one giant blur next to the finish line, but the reel paused on a shot of Pharfignewton’s flaring nostril crossing the line before Daddy’s Little Angel’s front hooves touched it. 

Pinky sucked in his breath. 

“PHARFIGNEWTON HAS BEEN DECLARED THE WINNER! CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR VICTORY OVER THE 141ST KENTUCKY DERBY!” 

“She did it! She did it! Lo hicimos, she did it!” Pinky jumped for joy, his heart soaring in excitement for Pharfignewton. She was three years old and she’d accomplished so much! He was super duper extra proud of her! 

Brain rolled his eyes, but there was a tiny quirk at the corner of his mouth. “Yes, it seems all your supportive efforts have paid off.” 

Pinky grinned and tore off a cardboard flap of the pizza box, dumped parmesan cheese all over it, and stuffed it into his mouth.

Nothing tasted better than a victory pizza box with parmesan! 

“Want some?” Pinky offered a second flap to Brain. “It’s delicious!” 

Brain made a gagging noise. “That can’t possibly be good for your digestive system, Pinky.” 

Oh well. More for him then! 

Pharfignewton’s back was draped with beautiful roses, her team of humans all rushing up and hugging her as journalists bombarded them all with questions and photographers snapped photo after photo of her horsey smile. 

Daddy’s Little Angel trotted up to her with a flower crown in his mouth and dropped it onto her head, then drummed the ground steadily with a front hoof in his version of applause. All the other horses followed his lead. Even Spirit and Achilles’ Heel, who were being restrained by a team of trainers, gave their approval. Pharfignewton whinnied in delight, tossing back her head and showing off the beautiful crown. 

She really was the best. Pinky clutched his chest, that warm gooshy feeling of love spreading throughout his body. 

He couldn’t contain it much longer, and he picked up Brain to let it all out, and he danced around in joy with a squirming Brain in his arms. 

“Pinky, I understand that this outcome is most favorable, but I demand that you cease this at once!” Brain complained. 

But Pinky barely heard him. He was more interested in what Mr. Gardner had to say. 

“Pharfignewton did an amazing job and we’re very proud of her,” Mr. Gardner said as he fed Pharfignewton an apple, which she gladly inhaled. “Running’s in her blood, and I’m sure she’s made her parents very proud in equine heaven. She’s definitely gonna take the Preakness and Belmont by storm.” 

“You think she’s capable of gaining Triple Crown status?” the reporter asked. 

Pharfignewton neighed loudly in her direction, messing up the reporter’s hair. 

As the reporter struggled to fix it, Mr. Gardner smiled. “I think she made it clear that she takes what she wants.” 

Two more races for the Triple Crown. Right. 

Pinky stopped dancing, an odd but featherlight weight in his arms. In his excitement, he’d forgotten that Pharfignewton had to win the Preakness and Belmont for her dream to come true. 

It wasn’t that she couldn’t do it. She was a swift runner and the best racehorse in the world. But she would be gone for several months. All the way on the other side of the country. 

And he wanted her to achieve her dream so bad. To rank up there with the great racehorses of old. 

“Pinky?” a voice choked. 

He was accidentally squishing one of Brain’s antennae. Oops. 

“Sorry, Brain,” Pinky quickly said, putting his friend down. 

Instead of stepping away like Pinky expected, Brain remained where he was. Brain was too good at forming unreadable expressions. His pretty pink eyes seemed concerned though. 

“This is a momentous occasion, isn’t it?” Brain asked. “Shouldn’t you be celebrating?” 

Was that Selenian speak for happy? 

Yeah, he was supposed to be happy. Pharfignewton won. He was really happy for her. He didn’t want Pharfignewton to think he was a bad friend because he was sad about not seeing her for a while. 

“Of course I’m happy for her,” Pinky said. But it was flimsy even to his own mousey ears. 

Brain didn’t seem convinced either. One hand awkwardly hovered in the space between them. 

A little touch would be nice, and he held super still so Brain wouldn’t get spooked. But a tapping at the window broke Brain’s trance, and upon the sight of a hovering black camera with the Selenian logo on its side, he quickly pulled away. 

“Correspondence from Snowball,” Brain said. His ears flattened briefly before returning to their normal position. Maybe he regretted breaking their closeness too. “I’m taking this.” 

He wiped his fingers on a wet cloth before unlatching the window. The camera darted in once the window was open, its tripod claws dropping an unmarked envelope into Brain’s hands before flying off into the brilliant evening sky. 

Well, it could’ve had pizza if it stayed just a little longer. 

Pinky moved behind Brain as he tore open the envelope and unfolded the note inside, which was written in a neat script. 

Pickup at seven pm tomorrow. Don’t be late. 

-Snowball

“Well, it’s better than nothing,” Brain sighed. “I’ll make sure we have everything required for tomorrow night, Pinky.” 

He didn’t wait for a reply. He only disappeared into a hidden drawer where all their belongings were stored. 

The masquerade ball was important. He shouldn’t keep Brain from making sure they saved the invitation so they could get in. 

And it would be nice to wear that beautiful dress Sharon picked out. 

But there was an ache in his chest. One that gnawed at his heart, and he didn’t want that icky feeling gnawing at his heart. Pinky sat in front of the TV and focused on Pharfignewton’s happiness instead. He pushed away the pizza, the box tasting like cardboard on his tongue. 

If she was happy, he was happy. And wasn’t that all he needed?

End AN: So as a little treat I snuck some fictional horse names in here. I mean, obviously you know Pharfignewton as Pinky’s equine girlfriend. Daddy’s Little Angel is the name of the horse Brain rode in the OG Animaniacs episode Jockey for Position.

Grand Chawhee’s name is a reference to All Dogs Go to Heaven. Tricky Mickey comes from the 1978 movie Casey’s Shadow, which I caught my family watching a few weeks ago and I just decided to borrow a name from the movie.

Rainbow Dash from My Little Pony, Maximus from Tangled, Black Beauty from the book of the same name, Spirit from the Dreamworks movie, and Achilles’ Heel is a reference to Phoebus’ horse in Disney’s Hunchback of Notre Dame.

Mr. Legs’ name provided by Boxy. Thank you, Boxy. Snuck in Pinky actually eating a pizza box for ya lol.

Final placements for the Derby are:

1. Pharfignewton 2. Daddy’s Little Angel 3. Maximus 4. Grand Chawhee 5. Black Beauty 6. Rainbow Dash 7. Arabian Night 8. Friendly Neighborhood Racehorse 9. Mr. Legs 10. Maverick 11. Horsin’ Around 12. Tricky Mickey 13. Mayoneighase 14. Achilles’ Heel (never finished) 15. Spirit (never finished)

Next chapter will finally have the Masquerade Ball and boy do I have plans. It’ll definitely be longer than this one. But this chapter at least wraps up the Derby subplot.

[taetaespeaches]

“We’ve already taken it slow for six years.”

taehyung x reader (or oc) genre: fluff word count: 2.1K

a/n: ok so here is the drabble that fills two requests and shows you how Tae and Peaches started their soon to be relationship after literal YEARS of friendship. This drabble shows the first of those few make outs that are referred to in “I’m pretty sure we just smashed your cowboy hat.” In true Tae and Peaches fashion, the kiss is pretty damn random. Anyways, thank you for reading and I hope you all enjoy :)) 

THE video was so stupid, but you and Taehyung were exploding in laughter, hands pushing at each other as you both tried to catch your breath. “Wait, wait,” you yelled through your amusement, “let me see that again.” Tae leaned over your frame to replay the TikTok from the compilation, both of you falling into more fits of laughter.

At the sound of someone jingling their keys, Tae looked up from the phone to see Hoseok at the front door putting his shoes on.

“Are you leaving?” Taehyung asked the older man, eyes going wide in curiosity.

“Yeah, I gotta get over to the airport,” Hoseok told your best friend, making you pop your head up and look over at him.

“Oh, you’re going to see your girl,” Tae realized, his lips curving upward a bit. He loved his friends so much, it was always something you really adored about him.

“She’s back?” You asked Hoseok in excitement. “Oh my god, yay!” You cheered, Hoseok giggling as he smiled happily at you.

“Definitely yay,” he told you, you shooting the man a thumbs up. Damn, go get her, you thought.

Tae glanced to you before asking his older member, “so you won’t be back tonight?”

Hoseok smirked, replying with, “Definitely not.” Opening the front door, he told you both, “You two have fun, I’ll see you later.”

“Be careful, hyung,” Tae shouted after Hoseok as the door shut. Turning to look at you, Tae found that you were already staring at him. “We got the place to ourselves,” he raised his eyebrows teasingly, you giggling as you rolled your eyes.

“What ever will we do?” You asked, stretching your legs across Tae’s lap, smirking at him. The man flashed you a stunning smile, an attractive low chuckle slipping from his lips as he tugged your legs against his hips, running his hand along your thigh as he hummed in thought.

You watched him in amusement as he pondered how to spend the evening, his head cocked to the side and his lips slightly pouted. His eyes widened just slightly as his lips curved up into a small smile as he sat forward, grabbing the box of cocoa puffs you were munching on earlier from the coffee table.

Digging his hand into the box, he shoved his mouth full of the sweets before mumbling to you, “open your mouth,” barely discernable. If you didn’t know the dude so well, you’d probably give him a quizzical ‘huh?’ but instead you pulled your legs toward yourself as he folded his, sitting criss-crossed. Opening your mouth, you watched as he lined up his shot.

Throwing the tiny sphere-shaped cereal at you, it bounced off your top lip, landing on your chest in the folds of the t-shirt adorning your body.

“Fuck, ok,” you grabbed the treat, popping it in your mouth before opening up again. Taehyung giggled as he tossed another, this time hitting your top front teeth and bouncing out. You picked it up from where it fell on your neck and shook your head. “Hang on, give me a second,” you giggle. “Here,” you told him, preparing to shoot the cereal at him.

You used the same cocoa puff to shoot at Tae’s mouth, the man having to take a quick jab to the left to catch it, but he did indeed get it. “Ayyyy,” you giggled. “Ok, come on, get it together,” you jokingly scolded yourself as Tae prepared to shoot another one at you.

This time, the treat easily fell into your mouth, both of you celebrating with lame yells of celebration, you tossing your fist up and Tae lightly tapping your thigh in excitement. “Ok, we got this now,” you told him, opening your mouth again. Tae pretended to juke a defender, shooting it like a basketball, it successfully landing in your mouth again. Your eyes widened in excitement, both of you getting more into the game. “Dude,” you yelled out enthusiastically, Tae dropping his forehead to rest against your kneecap as he fell into a fit of laughter.

As you giggled, mostly in response to his laughter, you found yourself admiring how easy and comfortable everything was with him.

You and Tae had been friends for years, since before his group even debuted. You’d been through stages of being inseparable to merely checking in once every few weeks, falling distant as other relationships or jobs took priority in your lives, but always finding your ways back to each other. It was both the easiest and most complicated relationship you’d ever had, and you were sure that if soulmates are real, he was yours and you were his.

Tae slowly lifted his head, looking at you through crinkled eyes with your favorite boxy smile plastered to his face as his deep chuckles slowly faded. “Ok, ok,” he told himself, taking a deep breath. “Ready?”

Nodding, you held back your laughter as you opened your mouth. As Taehyung prepared to shoot, he suddenly moved his arms forward, sending loose a whole handful of cocoa puffs as they catapulted to your face.

Hitting you on the nose, chin, and bouncing off your mouth, you squealed, shouting out your best friend’s name. With cocoa puffs landing on your chest, neck, and in your hair, you whined, chomping on the few that did happen to fall into your mouth.

Picking the cereal off of your chest and from your hair, you started sending them like darts at the giggling man, Taehyung bringing his arms up in defense as they bounced off his forearms.

Running out of cocoa puffs you huffed with a chuckle, Taehyung lowering his arms as he giggled cutely, his eyes scanning over your face and body. As his laughter faded out, his hands found your kneecaps, gently pulling your legs apart, slowly crawling over top your frame. Your eyes took in his figure as it neared your own and you found yourself reaching up to hold onto his hips. His hand came toward the left side of your face, and you leaned toward it expectantly, however he bypassed your cheek with a knowing grin, pulling a piece of cereal out of your hair and holding it up for you to see.

Your eyes followed the treat until it touched your lips, you shooting a playful glare at Tae as you just slightly opened your mouth to allow him to feed it to you. Your lips wrapped around the sweet, accidentally but maybe not so accidentally catching the tip of his finger as well.  

His eyes scanned your features as he hovered above you, your hips pressed together as you swallowed the cereal. He brought his hand to push a piece of hair out of your face, his thumb gently running along from your temple to your cheek bone where it stayed, soothing back a forth a few times, this time allowing you the opportunity to lean into the touch.

“Peaches,” he whispered, your eyes connecting with his own just before his fell to your lips, the slight movement causing your abdomen to clench in excitement and anticipation. “Can I kiss you?”

The words had your heart racing, and if he didn’t have you pinned under the intensity of his gaze, you would have connected your mouth to his instantly. With no answer from you, he spoke in his low voice, “I know I shouldn’t but—”

“Tae,” you interrupted him with a whisper. “Kiss me.”

He didn’t crash his mouth to yours, no impulsivity present when he allowed his eyes to look over your face once more before his lids fluttered shut, slowly lowering his lips to yours. The softness was deliberate, careful in taking his time.

His lips were like velvet, which didn’t surprise you from all the times he had placed kisses to your face and hands throughout your friendship, but on your lips they felt both exactly and nothing like you had imagined they would. And you would be lying if you said you hadn’t imagined kissing him before.

The tension perhaps had always been present within your relationship, but increasingly so the older you both got. It was a few months ago that you realized you were his. This man could break your heart if he wanted to.

After placing a few sweet kisses to you, switching between the top and bottom lips, his hand gripped your waist. He squeezed your flesh while simultaneously pushing your body further against the sofa when you tried to lift your hips in response to his touch.

It was you who opened their mouth first, lacing your fingers through the dark hair at the back of his head. Taehyung responded by kissing you deeper, letting out a small groan into your mouth as you both pushed your hips toward one another.

When his tongue dragged along your lower lip, you pushed your own forward, your heart racing at the feeling as you let a moan slip out. Taehyung’s mouth formed into a smile at the sound as his hand on your waist slipped underneath your t-shirt to grasp your warm skin in his palm. Your hand slid from his hair to his neck, your thumb swiping along his jaw as he kissed you even deeper.

Your hand reached his collar bone, feeling every inch of his skin that was accessible to you as he was pushing his hips against yours, one hand feeling your abdomen while the other was holding your thigh. Fully into the heat of the moment, Tae’s hand was sliding up your ribcage, fingers toying with the hem of your bra when the front door suddenly opened, Tae throwing himself off you as you straightened your clothing, grabbing your phone to look nonchalant.

Looking over the back of the sofa you found Yoongi kicking off his shoes at the entrance as he tiredly rubbed his hands over his face. When he looked up, your eyes met, and he gave a small smile and a little wave.

“Hey,” you greeted kindly.

“What are you two up to?” He asked you both, walking further into the dorm. If he had any idea of what had just happened, he didn’t let on.

“Playing,” Tae said lowly, your lips curving up at the answer. Yeah. Playing. “Peaches,” he called out to you, waiting until your eyes found him before throwing a cocoa puff at you, it hitting your closed mouth due to your slow reflexes.

“Wait, I wasn’t ready,” you whined with a giggle.

Yoongi just smiled as he silently judged you, though he found you two to be quite cute. “I’m just getting a change of clothes and then I’m heading out for the night,” the older man said as he made his way out of the room toward his bedroom.  

Tae shyly looked over at you, the confident man who was just on top you in a heated make out session hidden behind the bashful nervous gaze he gave you. “Well,” he said nervously.

“Dearest,” you started, sitting up before placing a hand to his thigh. “I don’t know what just happened exactly but—”

“I don’t regret it,” Tae interjected, you smiling in response.

“I don’t either,” you assured him. “I just think we need to take.. whatever this is—”

“Slow,” he finished for you, you nodding as his hand found yours, intertwining his fingers with yours. “You’re my best friend, Peaches.”

“Always,” you smiled. Reaching for a discarded cocoa puff sitting on the couch cushion next to Tae’s leg, you gently threw it at him, the treat bouncing off his nose. “I should go before Yoongi does,” you told him as you stood.

“No,” he whined, refusing to let go of your hand as you tried to tug it free.

“Dearest,” you shot him a look. “If slow is our goal, I need to leave,” you warned him. Tae grinned widely before giving you a nod, giggling as he let go of your hand.

“Just, not too slow, ok?” Your eyes stayed glued to each other as you both heard Yoongi’s bedroom door close, his feet shuffling toward you. “We’ve already taken it slow for six years.”

As Yoongi entered the room, you leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your best friend’s forehead. “Goodnight, Tae.”

Walking toward the front door, Yoongi looked at you in surprise. “You’re leaving?”

“Yeah, I need to get up early tomorrow,” you told him.

“Cool,” he said simply as you both put your shoes on. “I’ll walk you out.”

“Both of you be safe,” Tae called out, you smiling at him as Yoongi nodded dismissively. “Text me when you’re home, Peaches.”

“Of course,” you grinned before exiting through the door Yoongi held open for you, leaving Tae to sit on the sofa alone as he basked in the afterglow of you and him together.  

[cherryblossomtease]

Pleasures Remain, So Does the Pain

Chapter 23

chapter specific warnings- 18+ only - m/m- minor punishment

warnings and summary - masterlist

Authors Notes: Thanks for sticking with the story! So wild to be posting these final chapters this week, feels bittersweet. Who knew pwp could be so emotional! Hope you enjoy!

You don't leave the house. You hardly leave the room. You see no one but them, sharing days and nights that blend seamlessly together— a much longed for and well deserved lost weekend.

The few times you do untangle for something other than the bathroom or water and the occasional assortment of alcohol and sexual accessories, you emerge from the bedroom, wandering down into the kitchen for food.

Of course Bucky is introduced to the dogs, or "the babies," as they've been dubbed, which irritates Zemo to no end.

Lou and Ada are instantly fascinated by this new source of attention in the house and follow Bucky around, constantly showering him with slobbering affection. Heaven forbid the man should actually sit down on anything —a chair, a couch, especially the floor— and there they go, one of them inevitably trying to fit all four legs and the massive body those legs support onto his lap.

What is it about the biggest dogs having no idea they aren't made to curl up on top of us…

You scrunch your nose, amused as you watch Lou attempt to desperately paw his way onto Bucky who is sitting on the floor of the bedroom just across from you. He's made it his mission to sleep on Bucky at least once.

"Lou! Off!" Zemo scolds, leaning back on the Moroccan ottoman with disgust, making it funnier.

"It's okay. Really." Bucky tries to assure him, chomping on a bite of cheese "He just thinks I'm a pillow."They both seem happy with the dog’s big head finally resting on Bucky’s bare thighs.

Zemo rolls his eyes. "Not with those abs," He mumbles under his breath and you almost choke on your brie as you laugh.

Bucky holds his proud nose high, while making Lou's ears flop, but you see the way he peeks over at Zemo; all secretly flattered and showing off for him in nothing but the tight black underwear that hugs him just right.

You want to tease them for being so annoyingly cute, but then you remember no less than five minutes ago when Zemo called you out for your own antics as Bucky fed you. "She eats this all the time, don't let her fool you." He'd said. "Sure. But not like this." You'd shot back leaning across the charcuterie board to gently pluck the thinly sliced apple from Bucky's fingers with your teeth, his kiss following close behind. "Good call on the snacks" Bucky'd said with a crooked smile and the taste of green apple on his lips which he'd licked slowly. Zemo just raised his drink in agreement.

The three of you had started the evening with every intention of enjoying a real meal tonight, but right before getting out of bed, Helmut sank his teeth into the back of Bucky's thigh where it's soft, just before the curve of his ass and decided sitting down at the table was too formal. He wanted you both here, with as few clothes between you and him as possible, so you'd all ended up in the kitchen grabbing an assortment of snacks instead.

Olives, sliced bruschetta, all sorts of cheese and apricots, some grapes and apples… a bag of chips, and a candy bar? "I brought some stuff from my bag too." Bucky'd whispered to you on the way back upstairs making you snicker.

Now it's pillows and poofs on the floor in your underwear and pajamas as you share the tasty spread in the bedroom. The balcony doors are open to let in the ocean breeze and music is playing low, just under your light conversation while the sun sets, reminding you very much of the yacht. It is the perfect evening.

Halfway through the little feast, you look from one set of pretty eyes to the other and see the way they look at you and know exactly how this night will end.

After a morning spent sleeping in, and a perfectly lazy day, you think you'll be up for it too. At least you hope so. They've had you every way you can take them; the only remaining options make you blush just thinking about them. Simply put, it's been incredible, but Bucky isn't here forever.

"We will do something other than have sex, right?" You ask, looking to your lord and master with a cheeky grin getting both Zemo and Bucky's attention. "Maybe go to the beach or if you think it's safe enough.... Oo, we could drive… up to…Monaco…" Your voice trails off.

Zemo is sitting up and leans in close enough to Bucky that his voice makes the Sergeant raise his shoulder from the tickle of his breath against his ear. Happily tracing his finger along the side of Bucky's face as he goes on, Helmut drapes his hand down to the board of food, grabs a dark red grape without missing a beat and tosses the fruit up into his mouth. Bucky pretends to find him obnoxious but he's as smitten as a private-school boy and damn near giggles eyeing Zemo sidelong while the Baron chews, watching him with a smile.

He's definitely not listening.

Zemo picks up his drink and finishes the cognac, washing down the grape. Looking pleased to have made Bucky smile, he goes back to his lounging position only to turn his gaze on you because it's your turn for a bit of attention, and you feel a warm shiver rush over your body. He looks regal. Every bit the king of this kingdom he's made with that silky robe open showing a toned stomach, thick patch of chest hair and a dark tan that looks a little golden in the sunlight. The deep chestnut hair on his head is in messy swept-back layers complementing the beard which frames his face in shadow and from out of the dark his eyes find you, playfully daring you to leave, like he's saying; no more sex? Fine, go to the beach. Get in the car and drive to Monaco. Just try.

Damn it .

He exhales slowly through his nose, his smile spreading as your gaze wanders along his body. Why are his thighs so muscular? Probably from always being on the run, you smirk and nibble at the inside of your lip trying, not to smile back. He really needs to close that fucking Tom Ford robe. Your eyes dart up and down to find a part of him that could be average, or normal, or dare you say it—boring. Something to help you ignore him…

Arms? Never. Legs, nope, already established as gorgeous. Feet, no, even those are nice, you smile and sigh. Ankles? Jesus the man has sexy ankles. Who knew that was a thing... Okay fine —king Zemo— you win. You're basically one wet pussy away from pledging your sword and fealty to him.

Laughing at yourself, you look over to Bucky and see that he's just as hopeless as you are at resisting. Shit at this rate, you're never going to see the outside world again.

Zemo's laughter is light. He's amused by the way he's got you both practically drooling. "Come here," He implores softly, but with no question of the command. "Come and tell me you're done— with this inside of you," He moves his hand down and grabs, not aggressively but in that way men do to really show you when they want you to look and you lick your bottom lip, drawing it in, your eyes flitting up to look into his, then back down. He's hard already. The way the soft black silk of those boxers clings to the length and curve of his shaft makes you breathe harder. "Let's see how long you can it before you change your mind."

You shrink back a little feeling your belly ripple with the ghost of so many orgasms that you hide your smile behind the back of your hand, angry that you're giving in, knowing you can't deny him as your dominant and that you really don't want to.

"What do you think James? Something other than sex?" He asks, raising his hips just a bit to slide his hand under the waistband.

"Yeah. Sure." Bucky mumbles, tossing his half-eaten apricot onto the board. "Maybe the beach tomorrow…"

Zemo gives a half chuckle in Bucky's direction and beckons you over. He rests back on his elbows to watch with his cock free of the fabric, laid heavy and hard towards his stomach, the underside of his shaft veined beautifully and wanting your tongue —no, you smile, not your tongue, your pussy— you can already feel the way he won't wait. You can see it in his eyes. He's going to grab you, grab it and shove in.

You're already moaning by the time you're close and Bucky comes up behind you to slide your own pajama shorts down over your ass. He's practically purring. He wants to see you ride that big dick too. Your moan blurs with your fluttering laugh in reply to him wanting you both so bad.

"Don't you want to see the sights?" You ask with a gasp when Bucky picks you up with one arm from behind to pull your shorts down past your knees.

"Yep." He says in your ear, nipping at it as he sits you back down, smoothly bending you over, ready to pull them off your ankles. Your hands are flat on the floor on either side of Zemo's legs and just close enough at his waist to get an eyeful of what's waiting for you.

Thinking you'll find him looking pleased and slightly impatient, you are more than surprised to find a look of pure irritation on Helmut's face instead. One so amusing that it stops your hand from closing around him.

"What's wrong?" You ask, drawing back, genuinely confused.

He sighs, shutting his eyes, shaking his head. "Your damn— babies ." He nods.

In unison, you and Bucky look over your shoulders to find the wonder twins sitting at attention. Their giant golden heads are tilted, looking very confused, panting, drooling, watching, and probably thinking if they wait just long enough, they'll be given something from the wooden board on the floor.

Bucky's forehead falls to your back as he laughs. "Not exactly the audience I'm into."

"Me either." You grin, pull yourself out from between your man sandwich and hike your shorts up. "Come on." You say with a loud sigh. Your simple command is all that's needed and the dogs follow at your heels out into the hall.

"Sorry loves, but now is not the time. Go and get Petra. Go! Go on!" You shoo them, but they stubbornly pant and wag their tails until you give up with a frustrated growl leading them to the back stairwell. "Go!" You point. "Go get a treat from Petra!". They turn together at the sound of the magic word, looking only slightly betrayed and trot away, tails and butts bobbing down the steps.

You look over your shoulder with the image of Zemo on his back waiting for you still emblazoned on your mind and trot to the bedroom with an eager little grin.

Pushing through, you find Bucky returned to his spot on the floor, picking at the remains of the spread and Zemo getting up, off to … pour another glass?

What is this? You stand in the doorway, looking back and forth between them. What are they doing? Fueling up? You try holding onto your smile, but something is clearly very wrong.

"Hey. What's that face?" You ask Bucky, ruffling his hair as you walk past.

In all the time you've been together, you've never seen him look at Zemo like this before. You can't quite place it; is he mad? No, this is a complex emotion to be sure, not something as simple as anger. Something upsetting has been said that much is easy to surmise, but how bad is it?

"Who pissed who off?" You ask and sit at the edge of the bed, crossing your legs at the knee.

Zemo is messing around at the little bar, dropping ice from the bucket into his glass with silver tongs, one at a time while staring at Bucky, still picking at the tray.

"Wow." You say, crossing your arms. "I walked a few feet away for like, half a minute. How is this even possible?"

Nothing. No reply. Just two stubborn men who are notoriously good at getting under one another's skin.

"Well, fine. Maybe you two need to work this out alone. I'm going downstairs to watch tv." You get up, but Zemo doesn't want you to go, and Bucky doesn't like it when you're upset, especially if he's the cause.

"I made a joke," Zemo says, glancing at Bucky again like he's assessing the damage.

Your mouth twists in thought as you try to figure it out. Was it about how they met, maybe? "Was it a bad joke?" You ask.

He gives one of his little sighs as he rests the arm with the hand that holds his drink over the other wrapped around his torso and leans against the counter, crossing his legs at the ankles. He'd look edible if he weren't trying to be serious; maybe thats' why he looks so good.

"I didn't mean it," Zemo says to him.

"Didn't you?" Bucky asks, looking up and quickly away.

"No." He answers matter of factly.

"Then why did you say it."

Zemo shrugs.

Bucky scoffs and sits criss-cross, looking no less than exquisite. God if they could be a little less sexy while having these domestic squabbles…

"James, if I were truly angry with you for giving me up, do you really think I would have extended the invitation? Do you, knowing me now as you do," He sets his drink on the counter, pushing off to walk across the room, robe open, slowly approaching until he is able to slide his hands down Bucky's face and tilt his head up so that they can look at one another. "Think that I was ever anything but completely in love with you?"

Bucky has a habit of letting his eyes betray him. Love comes first, then whatever emotion to push it aside. Right now it seems to be an attempt at holding onto the mixture of hurt, anger, and maybe a little resentment? "I don't know." He grumbles and attempts to pull away, but Zemo won't let him.

"Yes, you do."

"Stop."

"No. I'm sorry for making a joke of it; I know you were hurting. Giving me up was not easy…You did what you thought you had to do." He says in a way that makes it clear this is not the first time he's said these words to Bucky.

"I did the only thing I could and I'll regret it for the rest of my life." Bucky says, the bitterness directed towards himself.

Head tilting just a bit, Zemo realizes then what's going on. "You've been holding onto it all this time? Why didn't you say something?" He asks, stepping back to look at Bucky without looming over the man so much.

Bucky sighs like he never meant to say, but it's out there, no turning back now. "I just didn't want to bring it up. It was in the past. I mean, you were gone for so long."

He's trying to play it down, but you feel for him and the man he was during the year you watched him missing Zemo, "He brought it up Helmut, he just didn't know he was bringing it up," You add softly not wanting to call him out so much as you want to shed some light on what he went through. Bucky is not so good at hiding his pain as he thinks.

Zemo looks at you then back down. He gets it. Typically he always does. "I don't hold it against you and I'm sorry I haven't made that more clear. So you can't walk around blaming yourself James, please." He says his voice as soft as his touch. "You have enough unwarranted guilt and pain to work through without putting my name back on your list." He smiles affectionately, brushing his thumb over Bucky's strong brow and cheek.

"I am trying," Bucky says. He means it, but it's an ongoing battle.

Zemo's compassionate smile widens and you think he'll give Bucky a well deserved kiss, but he stops suddenly, standing like a jolt has gone through him. "Wait. Is that what this is?" Helmut drops his hands, stepping back. "Some sort of atonement?" His snarky laugh pierces the air as he shoves his hair from his eyes, turning away and spinning around just as quickly. Now it's his turn to display a wide range of feelings you can't place.

"What?" Bucky lifts his head, completely confused.

"This." Zemo raises his arms, backing away. "Our relationship and the makeup of it. Are you submissive to me because you feel guilty?"

Oh no…

Bucky pulls a face, appalled, offended, insulted… and then the look begins to melt away. His breathing slows, and his gaze floats down to the floor as he begins to actually consider what Zemo has said.

Don't you dare, you think. There's no way that's what this is about. Right? Not after all this time. But then, it hasn't been that long. Six months apart and the two weeks on the yacht and now this weekend with the week ahead. Shit…

Bucky glances at you, then back at Zemo. His brows knit tightly together as he struggles with the possibility. He did, after all, send the man he loves to a very desolate prison, and, at the time, he thought it was for life. You think back to all of the things the three of you have done together. All of the wonderfully dark things. You've never shied away from exploring different sexual tastes and desires; coming from Madripoor, you never had to. Everything was right there, just waiting to be tasted. But to think of something you've chosen as a lifestyle, something you love as dearly as you do these men being used as a way to heal and not simply enjoy when you were not aware of it? Well, you aren't sure how you'd feel about that.

Bucky's shoulders slump as he rubs his face.

Fuck, is he going to cry? This is not how you thought this day would end, but then if he needs to process in this way, you'll be there for him. At least you'll try.

Zemo leans away. He's unsure of what's happening too. "James?"

His shoulders shake.

"Bucky?"

Harder now he's shaking and then he drops his hands, revealing his laughter.

Your own nervous smile wavers. You have no idea what turn this is going to take.

Bucky looks up at Zemo and shakes his head with a humored sigh leaving his lungs. "You're kidding, right? You must be. You think I'm here because I feel bad? I mean, don't get me wrong. I do, in some ways, I might always. But shit— the way you beat my ass? Jesus Helmut. Physically I think I've more than "atoned for my sins." He laughs again, thinking back, "That one night, when you punished me for what I did to her," He glances over at you and sort of whispers as if he's embarrassed to say, "When you bent me over the bed— made me count off every strike of the belt…" Bucky's big eyes meet Zemo's but quickly look away, and you catch your lip with your teeth, keeping your smile held tight. "No. That night and all the others, are not why I'm here. Not at all." They exchange a look of that shared memory; you all do.

Zemo doesn't want to laugh but he can't help it. "You're saying all those years being the winter soldier and your kink truly is submission?"

Bucky winces rolling his eyes. "Yeah, Helmut. It's fucked up isn't it." He says, rocking his jaw, "You wanna laugh at me now? Point out the irony?"

You raise your hand, "I don't know if that actually..."

"Don't" Bucky cuts you off.

"Oh now James." Helmut says, changing his tone to one genuinely sympathetic," What's one of the fundamental rules of love? That true love starts within?" He smiles, walking back towards Bucky to pull him close. "I'm only teasing." He says gently. "And I shouldn't. It's a stupid defense. I use it when I know I’ve fucked up and don’t want to admit it. I’m sorry. Just ignore me."

"I tried that. You're like a very elegant bull in a china shop."

You giggle quietly.

"I can hear you." Zemo says, raising his brow at you and your smile warms to his. "Yes, well, I had to get your attention. You seemed intent on getting rid of me even though I knew how you felt. Which, as I've said to you before, I know why you couldn't explore it. Even in the moments when I made it clear I wanted you."

"I was just scared. That, and you were as good as gone, I just didn't see any way around it Helmut. I didn't know you'd have all of these plans. Yachts and French villas."

He shrugs "Part of the plan was for neither of you to know, and it worked. You're still here" He strokes Bucky's hair but looks over at you resting on your side. "Of your own free will because you choose to be. Yes?"

You nod "Yes of course." You answer.

"There's nowhere else I want to be." Bucky says, his gaze locked on Helmut. "Not if you paid me, begged me or forced me," Zemo looks down and you watch their profiles come slowly closer. "And I'm not mad, I'm just a little uptight about that day."

Even though I'm the one who went to prison?" Helmut asks. Bucky's gaze dances across Helmuts face and like you he settles on his lips.

" Because you're the one to went to prison."

"I still forgive you." Zemo insists and finally, their lips touch. It is the soft, easy kiss of love, not passion. Bucky's hand comes up and presses firm against Helmuts cheek keeping him close, and you have to hand it to them, they do know how to work through things better than most, and the make-up intimacy is always, well…

That little flicker of tongue makes your smile fade quickly and reminds you of what almost happened before the dogs ruined it. They part to look one another in the eye.

"And" He lets his gaze float your way "You were there to care for her, " He eyes you lying on the bed with a soft breath of a laugh.

"Think I did a good job?" Bucky asks, joining him.

You wouldn't let anyone else in the world talk about you like you aren't there except for them, but you do like when they ogle you together.

"Look at her, she's perfect. I don't think you had anything to do with that, but well done making sure she didn't fall into the hands of my many enemies." Zemo teases… you think. He stands "Come and fall into the hands of the men that love you." He says, his voice dropping deeper.

"So you're done fighting then?" You ask, rising slowly.

"It was never a real fight." Zemo answers. You go and kiss him sweetly feeling Bucky squeeze the back of your neck before he slips away "Just something that should have been said a while ago." He says pulling away.

You both look over at Bucky getting a class of water and you kiss Helmut’s cheek knowing he wants to go to Bucky.

"I would have been willing to have that conversation a while ago. Just so you know.” Zemo says at his side. “There was no need to go on carrying that with you for so long."

"I think I was nervous," Bucky says as he finishes his water.

"It really was hanging over him like a black cloud." You add going down to the floor to look for your favorite dried cherries.

"No secrets James, you know you can tell me anything," Zemo says, rubbing his smooth metal shoulder.

You smile, popping the tart, chewy fruit into your mouth. You love seeing them grow in the relationship.

"I do, actually. Thank you." He says and pauses to lean in and kiss him.

It was meant to be a peck. You can tell because he's still holding his water and his body is turned away, but that lasts no more than a few seconds before he's melting against Zemo.

It's funny you think —a dopey smile on your face as you watch— Bucky is taller than Helmut by about three inches in their bare feet, but you always forget. You could watch this brutal force of strength and power look so safe and content in the arms of the man he loves for the rest of your life if given a chance. Bucky leans into the kiss a little more and you eye the way Helmut circles the small of his back with his fingertips and wonder if he even knows that he does it? What does he do to you when you kiss?

Bucky's gasp snaps you out of your dreamy haze as you see that other side of him when he becomes this incredibly gorgeous display of sex, alive at Zemo's touch. He's nodding, sort of lowering as the Baron has his balls in hand through his boxers. You've missed what was said but whatever it was, Bucky is quickly submitting to it.

"Maybe it's a little obvious but— my house, my rules." Zemo smiles in Bucky's face and grips harder. "You know that I love you with all of my heart."

"Yes, Baron." Bucky says, through gritted teeth, holding the counter with his right hand, the vibranium braced on Zemo's shoulder.

"I only punish you for your own good. Especially for things like this. Such a betrayal. It is your fault after all." He says so casually you're annoyed that you've missed something yet again. And then your frown grows deeper.

He wouldn't…

Didn’t they just fix this? Not to mention the boundaries being pushed. You've crossed, blurred, and blown up lines, you've lived this life so long; but to punish Bucky for something that has affected him so deeply? You're not sure you can agree with it morally. Biting your tongue, you wait to see how Bucky will respond.

"Say it." Zemo says.

"It's my fault." Bucky manages, sinking just a bit more with a strained moan.

Zemo steps closer, putting his other arm around him to hold him close. "Next time, when I say put the dogs outside. I mean, put the fucking dogs outside. Do you understand?"

"Yes Baron." Bucky gives in and Zemo lets go kissing his cheek.

You drop your head back with a crack of laughter.

"That wasn't so bad was it?" Helmut declares, stepping back as Bucky slowly stands, the red in his face fading. "Looks like all I did was help move things along." Zemo laughs and Bucky protests, but he's not wrong. The massive erection under his boxers is begging to be toyed with again. Zemo looks over at you. "Why are you sitting there? Come on. I'd like to finish convincing you that we can spend all of our time fucking," He says in all seriousness but with that distinct spark of wild excitement in his eyes that makes people do what he says.

He should moonlight as a motivational speaker. "Fine. First, where's that candy bar Bucky?" You ask because you know you're going to need the fuel.

*

"I'm really happy you two finally had that conversation." You say, smiling at Bucky in the dark. You've come down into the garden for some water and air; it's so late you feel like two teenagers sneaking off together, having left Zemo asleep in bed. You're sitting at the little white iron table in the center of the garden on the pea-gravel path and Bucky looks up at you nodding.

"Me too. It was long overdue— obviously."

"Well, if there's one thing you're both good at, it's bottling emotions." You give him a playful smile.

Bucky agrees like you're the asshole but knows you mean no harm. He leans back, petting Lou, who followed you out. Their bond is unbreakable, and it's quite possibly the sweetest thing you've ever seen.

"Hey, I've been curious. How was New York? Helmut sort of hinted that it wasn't easy. Sorry for jumping right in on your first night back but I just worry."

"I know. But I really have been through worse." He says, and it doesn't take any stretch of the imagination to know he's telling the truth "Still, being separated from the people I love pushes the limits. Decades ago, it was my little sisters…"

This strikes a nerve. He's only mentioned them one time to you and never again.

"Then Steve. It's not the same with you and Helmut, I know you're alive and safe so that keeps me sane. I just feel like I'm always so far away…" His voice trails and you feel the lump in your throat hurt with the promise of tears.

"Bucky— I would come back with you, I would. I will!" You say, reaching for his hand on the table.

His smile is as sad as the vibranium is cool that closes around your fingers. "I know you would. And I'd be a fool to let you. How long do you think it would take before everyone looking for him closed in on you? And how long do you think it would take for me to kill them all to keep you safe. It's too dangerous." He says your name with the fear he feels at the thought of you risking everything just to go back and resume life with him in New York. "It was different before. I could pull a few strings, say you were just mixed up in his mess, fooled into going along with him, but it was over because he was in prison. Not anymore."

You sigh and sit back. You already know this.

"He has a place in Spain. Did you know?" You say, breaking the silence.

Bucky looks up at you. "What?"

You nod with a the tight-lipped smile of a woman in the know. "If this location is compromised, that's where we'll go,"

"You shouldn't have told me."

"It doesn't matter; you'll visit."

Bucky laughs. "Any other over-the-top locations I can add to the list?"

You consider telling him about the castle, but Zemo doesn't know that you overheard his conversation with Oeznik and the only reason you understood was that you forced Petra to tell you. Her loyalties lie with the family, but you and she have become quite close over the past few months. "No, I guess these two are enough."

"Ha!" Bucky is a little taken aback but not much. Nothing Helmut does really surprises him anymore. "Yeah, two is good," He jokes shaking his head. "New York is— lonely." He says, suddenly, looking you in the eyes, and your smile dies like someone blew out a flame. "I think I forgot about that part. Kinda wishing I'd stayed alone so that I would never have remembered."

"Really?" You ask, feeling the sting of his honesty.

He looks up, and you know instantly that he doesn't mean it. "No." He says with the sort of sweet dismissiveness that warms your heart.

"One day."

Bucky nods. "One day."

You bring your knees up under your chin in the chair, wrapping your arms around your legs. "So how's superhero...business…" Bucky is giving you a blank stare. You stare back.

"What?"

"You're serious right now?"

"What?" You feel a wave of heat. You know what he's talking about and you're trying not to blush like a fucking virgin.

"Really? Are we really not going to talk about what just happened?" He asks.

You slowly cover your mouth to keep from smiling pulling at your lips and look away. You don't know what to say, all you can do is look back at Bucky until your laughter threatens to wake the entire neighborhood.

"Shit…" You lay your head to your knee. "Um. I thought we'd just sort of be adults about it? Let it be?"

"I am being an adult! Adults talk about things, especially big moments in their lives. This was a big moment and I need to fucking talk about it." He whispers very loudly hitting the table.

You laugh against your thighs feeling your heart start to race as you drop your legs back down.

Looking at Bucky —happy and comfortable in a t-shirt and underwear— you can still see them, hear them, taste, smell, and feel them. Fuck it "Did it feel as good as I think it did?" You ask, instantly biting your lip. You feel nervous for him to answer.

Bucky slides down in his chair, hand behind his head, eyes up at the stars. He smiles, he sighs he laughs a little, he gets very quiet, and then he gets very serious. You give him all the time he needs. "I…" He pauses to think again "I did not imagine ever doing that… but… he looked so—beautiful. Not like the way you do." He sits up and stares at you again. "Its different. You're soft and warm, I want to protect you while warning everyone to get out of your way" He stops to laugh "You're home to me but Helmut… he's every moment I've ever been afraid or lost or scared and every time I've ever wanted more, a future, peace, love. I could see all of it. Right there; in the moment he looked back at me." He glances up at you and you can see that he's embarrassed to have said so much, but you don't give him any reason to be so he goes on. "Yes. Yes it felt good but it was more than sex. I've never really felt anything like it."

Your heart feels too tight. You reach for him, and he leans forward, dropping his head to rest on his cold arm bent on the table, and with a deep sigh, he takes your hand without looking. "It was the most natural thing that I've never done before," He says, his voice muffled in the dark space of his arm, "As natural as being with a woman. I think if I'd ever wondered about my sexuality before tonight, which trust me I haven't, but if I had, the moment I was inside of him," You hear Bucky's quick sigh, "I'd never doubt it again. He looks up at you, his face just a little flushed. "I can't compare the two of you, but I do know that I can't imagine never being inside of him again. I hope he knows that."

You just squeeze his hand, "I'm sure he does…”

It's happening so fast.

"Are you sure?" Bucky whispers in his ear.

You watch his black and gold hand curl through and up to press flat against Helmuts chest, holding him close from behind. "Yes," Helmut says, still confident in this moment of unexpected submission… but no. This doesn't have to always be an act of submission. This is an act of love. The games have been played tonight; Bucky has suffered for not doing as he was told. Now, here is his reward for nothing more than existing.

"You aren't my first James, far from it." Helmut says in the dark. "Far from it. But the first that I love, and the first that I want in this way because of it."

He smiles down on you, watching them with your legs spread on either side of theirs, comfortably laid on your back, and he leans to smooth his hand down your stomach and over to the bedding, where he picks up the little black remote "Don't worry," He says, and you realize your internal thoughts must show on your face. "It's all right. You still belong to me. He still belongs to me," He says, closing his eyes briefly, moving in slow, small waves with Bucky, who is losing himself to the excitement of what's about to happen.You can hear him laying kisses along Helmut’s back and shoulders, "This changes nothing, and you will both do as I say when I say it. Yes?" The all too familiar vibration against your clitoris begins, and your chin raises as your eyes shut, making you moan as he does from Bucky's increasing enthusiasm.

"Yes," You say quickly, watching with more anticipation and excitement and fear than you did when Bucky was the one between you.

Helmut gives a nod, and before you realize what he's doing, he reaches, pulls the panties aside, and runs two fingers along your spread divide. You're so wet you can hear the sound his fingers make as he glides and pumps them back and forth at your entrance, just enough to make your back arch, and then he lays the sticky champagne-like slick over your clit and lets the underwear snap back. You shiver and open your eyes.

"I love you." You whisper, catching your breath as Bucky leans to pull him back again, holding him so tight with his metal arm you're scared for him. Helmut's calm breaks just enough that you moan for him. You’ve never seen him make this face before. Bucky is breathing so heavy along his neck that you can feel it. Helmut looks off into the dark, but then he smiles.

"You won't break me, James. I promise." He says. And just before his eyes close and the air is knock from his lungs he grabs your thigh, and you grab his wrist. "I love you." He answers to the both of you.

"I still can't believe it happened," Bucky says, sitting up slowly. Lou lays his head in his lap, but Bucky pushes him away. "And why do I feel like I'd get on my knees for him even faster now? What the hell is that?" He laughs, sounding completely confused.

You laugh too and shrug. "I don't know. I’m sure there’s plenty of psychological work to be done there. But if it’s any consolation there’s just something about him. He’s the sort to get in your head no matter how you fuck. Pretty sure I warned you on the yacht,” you say and you both laugh. “Seeing him in a t-shirt and jeans helps— sort of?”

Bucky grins. "I wish I could stay long enough to see that version of him. For now he's still magic."

You sigh, shaking your head. "Yeah well, if it makes you feel better, I've seen most versions of him, and he is for me too. I think it's because we love him."

Bucky nods, smiles, sighs, looks off towards the wall of ivy and white flowers and you lose him to a memory that makes him blush.

"Okay, what?" You ask, shy to hear the answer.

"Nothing, just … the way you both looked." He glances at you. "I could see you too you know. You seemed afraid and then. Awed."

You quickly look away. It's embarrassing to hear, but maybe you were a little.

Helmut's hand slams into the wall well over your head and the slotted headboard. He reaches back with the other, grabbing for Bucky, pulling him close, urging him deeper—harder. His hand on the wall goes to a fist, Bucky's open mouth gasp becomes a moan against his ear, and their faces press close as they move. No, as Bucky moves, and Helmut has no choice but to move with him.

"When in all of that did you manage to see me? I mean I couldn't take my eyes off of you two." You say, staring at him, remembering it so well you're having trouble talking now. Your throat is tight, your chest rising and falling with the deeper breath of being so quickly aroused.

"I just opened my eyes." He says softly. "I had him in my arms, so tight around me, I could feel his heart racing under my palm. There you were beneath us. So pretty in that underwear," You both grin "I knew you were close; you had that little frown on your face." Your smile becomes a self-conscious eye roll, "I watched for as long as I could stand it, and then, well…" He happily shrugs.

Bucky is begging, pleading; he'll do anything to come. No, not just come— come inside of him. He wants to fill this man so badly he is gasping for air as he slams his hips forward, arms around his shoulders, mouth open, teeth grazing his neck and ear as he tosses out half-spoken pleas.

You're anticipating the way this will end, and just the thought of Helmut's aggressive explosion across your chest has you seconds away from beating them to a climax, but you wait to see how he takes it, how your Baron, the man who makes the rules and decides when and how to punish you both makes it through this. Both of his hands are on the wall, and Bucky has him by the waist now, but soon leans against him, his face pressed to the back of Helmuts head as he drives up and in so far you can only hear the deepest of breaths and moans that make it so easy to come.

It's your voice, your rhythmic breath and moan that sends them over.

"I can't stop," Bucky warns. You feel him touch your leg, his warm fingers gliding along your calf, holding you tight to both of them.

"Come with me." You hear Helmut's permission to you both and feel his hand on your thigh joining Bucky, and you rise onto your forearms back arching, breasts perked as you let the orgasm grab hold.

From them there is only the sound of skin on skin, their loud moans and deep ones mixed with gasps and your own feminine voice woven in.

The warmth that dots your chest makes you smile with your eyes closed as your contracted walls start to relax and your muscles begin to release. He'd given you the remote a while ago, thankfully, and you lay in the blissful still of the powered down vibration that only you control for the first and probably the last time.

Opening your eyes, you look down to find your breast and collar bones looking like a monochromatic Jackson Pollock. You'd laugh if you had any breath left, but you just look up to find them as quiet as you are, and that's how they stay for a while.

*

"I'm sorry, did I hurt you." Bucky asks, "I hurt you, didn't I?" He sounds frustrated with himself but still high from the unbelievable thing that's just happened.

In his arms, Zemo shakes his head, his damp brown hair against Bucky's smooth black shoulder, "No. I told you, physically, you wouldn't—not too bad— my heart is the only thing in danger of being crushed by you." He says with a soft, very tired but very satisfied single laugh as he rubs Bucky's thigh beside his own slowly, "All right fine, maybe my right shoulder, and my lower back, maybe my left arm but…"

"God damnit Helmut!"

*

"I don't think he's ever fallen asleep before us now that I think of it." You say, looking up towards the third floor of the house.

Bucky nods. "Yeah, I thought the same thing. He's okay, though, right? Just messing with me?"

"You are the most self-aware partner I have ever known. You did not hurt him." You assure Bucky. "He said as much at least two hundred times."

Bucky smiles wide. “Sneaky little shit"

"Yep."

"Well." He says, sort of shaking off the magic of reliving the night, "Should we let him sleep and have a drink to celebrate?"

You scrunch your nose and draw your shoulders up, feeling only a little naughty. "Have I ever said no?"

"Not since I've known you." He says, hopping up to head back to the kitchen.

"Wait, are we celebrating you topping?" You ask with a confused snort. "I mean, I'm all for important moments, but just so we're clear."

"I think we're celebrating— me understanding who I am. My therapist would be proud."

"You still have one?"

"Nah. But if I did, seems like the sort of thing they'd say was a step in the right direction. Tell me I'm making progress towards becoming a better me or something."

"Ha!" You slap his ass ignoring the way Lou jumps around, thinking it's time to play. "Then grab a bottle of Zemo's best champagne. You fucked him so good I felt it."

Bucky laughs, the blush in his cheeks in stark contrast to the man who just an hour or so ago had his metal arm around Helmuts waist and the other palm to the wall as he shoved into the Baron like the world was going to end tomorrow and this was the last and only time he'd ever have this man— maybe it was, but something told you that was not the case.

He may look sweet, but you watched the way Bucky walked into the house, strutting like he owned the place. You laughed and warned him not to get ahead of himself.

"Remember," You said a little later, sitting on the counter, sipping your champagne, "You may have fucked him, but who gave you the permission?"

You watch as Bucky's little smirk wavers, his blue gaze falls to the floor, and he stops chewing on the Red Vines he'd also had in his pack (how much candy did he bring and why?) When he looks at you again, you wink at him, and he stands straight, crosses his arms, uncrosses them, huffs, looks at you, then hits you over the head with the whip of red licorice.

"Gee,thanks.” He squints at you heading for the stairs “You always know just what to say."

[sugarmaplewings-fics]

Pocky Game

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Pairing: Kirishima x reader

Warnings: None

｡.ﾟ*･

Hello, dear reader!

I just wanted to say this blog won't be entirely Kirishima. Other boys are on the way! Stick around!

I love each and every one of you guys! Thank you so much for reading!

-Sugar

❤ ❤ ❤

You heard a knock on your dorm room door. "Hey, (Y/N), it's me!"

You brightened at the slightly muffled sound of your boyfriend's voice on the other side of your door. You got up from your desk and strode to it, opening your room for him to enter.

"Hey, Eiji," you greeted him.

He walked into your room and flopped down on your bed, spread eagle, staring up at the ceiling. You noticed a little smile on his face as he gazed at nothing, your eyes wandering down to a small box he held in his hand.

"What brings you here?" you asked Kirishima, looking down at him curiously.

"My manly love and desire for you," he answered coyly, still grinning.

You snorted. "Really. Whatcha got?"

"Oh, this?" He raised his hand and shook the box, a light pink dusting his cheeks as he quirked an eyebrow.

You leaned forward a little, squinting at the label. "Pocky sticks?" Your cheeks began to match his as you realized what he was asking. Thinking fast, however, you kept your face relatively blank. You decided to play dumb to his desire, taking the opportunity to tease him whenever possible. "What are you wanting to do with those?"

Kirishima faltered for a second, his face turning a shade darker. "Well, Mina gave these to me and said that I should ask you to play the pocky game with me."

Typical Mina. You swallowed your smile as you continued your game of your own. "What's the pocky game?"

Eijirou sat up this time, still gripping the small, cardboard biscuit box. "I would have thought—I mean, isn't this the kind of stuff you're into?"

You tried to keep your amusement off your face as you continued to smile innocently at him.

The redhead heaved a sigh. "I've never played it before, but—" He began to tear open the top of the box, pulling out the little bag before tearing that open too. You watched as he delicately gripped one of the biscuit sticks between his fingers, pulling it out and presenting it to you. "You put one end of the stick in your mouth, and I'll put the other end in mine." Kirishima stood and cleared the distance between you, offering the stick to you.

You took it in your mouth as instructed and gazed up into the ruby red eyes of your boyfriend as he did the same.

"Now," Kirishima continued, speaking around the stick. "We bite off the ends until we . . . meet in the middle."

You lifted an eyebrow, grinning around the biscuit between your teeth. "Don't tell me you're looking for an excuse to kiss me?" you teased. "You know you don't need one for that."

Kirishima blushed again, grinning. "I know."

You admired his pointy teeth for a moment, briefly wondering if it would be difficult for him to properly bite off the thin stick.

"Go!" Kirishima said, startling you. He chomped his way down the pocky stick, clearly not having any issues with his teeth. Caught off guard, you took a second before beginning to take small bites of the stick. Glancing up, you saw Kirishima's flashing teeth as he made his way down the stick towards you. You found yourself hoping he wouldn't get too carried away and chomp down on your nose or your lip.

Just as you had this thought, Kirishima's face got close enough to bump against your nose. He immediately slowed, taking careful, small bites as he got closer to you.

You paused again, feeling your heart squeeze a little at how considerate your boyfriend was. In a matter of a few more bites, your lips brushed against each other. You connected, carefully using your flat incisors to snap the stick in two. Kirishima pulled you a little closer, reveling in the taste of your lips. Naturally there was still the frosting from the biscuit stick, but there was also something sweet about keeping yourself pressed to Kirishima.

Kirishima pulled away from you and opened his eyes, a triumphant gleam in his fiery red irises. "And that, babe, is the pocky game."

"And you just lost."

He jumped a little at your words, caught off guard. "What?"

"You're supposed to stay on each other for as long as you can. The first person to pull away loses. You see, it's supposed to be more for those who haven't accepted their feelings for each other, making the game more—"

"Hang on a second, you totally did know what this was the entire time!" Kirishima pouted at you, trying to keep the smile off his face.

You lifted your hand, studying your nails nonchalantly. "Maybe I did."

"You could have just said that in the first place."

"And miss out on seeing you squirm trying to explain it to me? Miss out on your adorable face? That cute hint of blush? Never."

Kirishima kept pouting, now looking a little more genuinely sullen. "I'm not adorable, babe. I'm manly."

On the contrary, the expression on his face looked more like that of a grumpy puppy, or a young boy. You decided not to mention this, though, feeling that you had teased him enough for the time being.

"Wanna go for another round?" you asked.

Kirishima looked back up at you. "You enjoyed it?"

"Heck yeah, that kiss was awesome." You smiled for him as the blush reappeared on his face.

He eagerly grabbed another pocky stick from the bag and popped one end in his mouth, offering the other to you. You obliged, resting it between your teeth. This time you were ready when Kirishima issued the start, working your way towards each other quickly. When you got closer to the other's face, you both would slow, gently nibbling away at the biscuit connecting you until your lips collided and you shared in another kiss.

You both played until the box was nearly empty. Eventually you grew a little tired of the biscuits and decided to ditch them entirely, saving them for another game. Instead, you made out on your bed like normal, pulling each other close as your hands wandered and lips clashed.

The pocky game was definitely another win for Kirishima's book.

｡.ﾟ*･

[death-himself]

Saw your monsyer au on ao3

Great work

Anyway, probably an angsty prompt but I was wondering if you think that any of our monster bois have had nightmares where they go on a hunt and then accidental chomp Virgil. Bonus points if in the moment they actually enjoy his flavor

I feel like the left brain boys (Janus and Logan) would be the most likely to have a nightmare scenario like that, especially Logan since he DID almost munch Virgil, and they'd also be the most likely to pretend everything's fine the next morning even tho they're absolutely miserable and terrified of taking a crunch munch out of their human bf in real life

Great work, don't know if o said that already

Happy holidays Nico

It’s been over a month since you sent this so sorry about that .-. Anyway here’s the fic, some good ol’ hurt/comfort with Loceit and Logicality because Logan deserves it

Warnings: Death (in a dream sequence), cannibalism, nightmares, blood

Logan went down his usual route to hunt. He and his other nonhuman boyfriends often hunted at the same time, spread all across the city and countryside to make their home less easy for the police to find. He found a good place on the rooftop to sit as he watched the humans pass by, waiting patiently for his prey.

One with dark purple hair walked down the alleyway. A pleased smile pulled at Logan’s lips. He dropped down silently in front of them, and before they could even scream he had them pinned to the ground, a hand over their mouth as he sunk his teeth into their arm.

The taste was heavenly. He ripped away at the tender flesh, sweet as candy and melting in his mouth. He ignored the human’s cries as he savored his meal, biting away until rose red pooled around them both. It was the most beautiful shade of blood he had ever seen. Logan felt bile hit his hand as the human attempted to vomit, before all the muscles beneath him loosened, and he heard their heart slow into silence.

Finally Logan pulled away with a sigh, having eaten his fill. He normally refrained from looking at his victims, in fear that he would feel guilty for killing them, but for whatever reason his eyes drifted over, looking over the dead man’s face. Purple hair, blank, empty black eyes, black eyeshadow.

Virgil.

Logan’s eyes snapped open, his body drenched in sweat. He looked to his side, relieved to see Virgil alive and well, sleeping as peacefully as ever. He listened closely to his boyfriend’s steady heartbeat, staring up at the ceiling as he waited for his own heart to come closer to matching.

He hated thinking about how he and Virgil met. He hated what had been going through his mind while he attacked him. He hated the fact that Virgil was the most delicious human he had ever tasted.

It had been something that had always been at the back of his mind, something he refused to acknowledge. Virgil tasted fucking incredible and there was nothing any of them could do about it. If Patton hadn’t been there to stop him, what had happened in his dream would have been reality.

He looked over Virgil at Patton, hugging the end of Janus’s tail like a teddy bear. He was the only one out of the four of them that hadn’t actually tried to kill Virgil, wasn’t he? No, he had saved Virgil from Logan’s own bloodlust. Wow, what a great boyfriend he was.

He sighed, turning over to stare at the clock. It was three AM, that was only three hours earlier than he would usually wake up. Might as well get up then.

Virgil had gone off to work and Roman had decided to visit his brother. The moment both of them left, Janus pulled Logan aside, wrapping his tail around him and almost pulling him close enough to touch noses. “Is something bothering you, love?” Janus spoke softly.

“Of course not.” Even Logan could tell he responded too quickly. Janus smiled.

“Well there has to be a reason why you kept staring at Virgil this morning. I know he’s absolutely gorgeous but there has to be a reason other than that.” Logan sighed. He knew how Janus was; he refused to give up until whoever he was talking to admitted what they were struggling with. It was something he both hated and loved about him.

“...You came close to killing him too, didn’t you?” The question threw off the naga for a moment, yellow and brown eyes widening. Janus hummed, nodding.

“So that’s the issue.” He sighed. “Well yes, I did. If I had held him for maybe five more seconds he would’ve passed out, and if I didn’t notice by then I likely would’ve eaten him alive. It’s in the past though, all is forgiven.”

“What if we realized afterward that he was our soulmate? What if you had looked at your tail and seen that Virgil’s mark was gone after he was dead and eaten?” Janus looked him up and down, concern flooding his eyes.

“Did you have a nightmare like that, darling?” Logan nodded hesitantly. Janus paused, arms hooked around Logan’s neck, his hand drifting up to run his fingers through Logan’s hair.

“I’ve gotten those, too. They’re tough to see, aren’t they?” Logan closed his eyes, allowing himself to go limp in Janus’s arms and coils as the naga pulled him even closer, holding him with all the care in the world.

“We’ve been around him long enough to not harm him. I know with how annoying he can be at times it’s hard to restrain yourself, but it seems like we still manage.” He chuckled. “And our first meetings are in the past now. They were awful first impressions, sure, and we’ll always remember what it was like to nearly kill him, but we know that they won’t happen again.”

Logan hummed, nose nuzzled into Janus’s shoulder. Janus killed through suffocation, though. Logan was the one who actually bit him and tasted his blood. And the taste and scent of that blood was what constantly hung in his mind, something he would always crave but could never get. At least not without consequences.

Janus unwrapped himself a bit, delivering a soft kiss on Logan’s lips and looking him over to make sure he was alright. Logan heard humming from the doorway, smelling Patton waiting just outside. Knowing him he had probably walked in and saw what was going on, opting to wait until they were done rather than joining in.

The vampire peeked his head in to check, before deeming them done and smiling happily. “You two having a cuddle party without me?” He gave Logan a kiss on the cheek before moving over to do the same to Janus.

“We were simply talking about an issue Logan had.” Patton immediately turned back to Logan, eyes full of concern, and Logan wished Janus had just spun one of his lies to get him out of this.

“It was nothing serious, I’m fine.”

“You sure, Logi Bear?” Logan hesitated. Patton was a vampire, he would understand something like this better than Janus or Roman would. But how the hell was he supposed to word it?

“...Virgil tastes incredible.”

“He does!” Patton giggled, a wide smile on his lips. “He let me drink his blood once, it was so good! I was scared I would kill him though, so I didn’t get much of it.”

“It’s very sweet, isn’t it?”

“Like candy!” Patton agreed. Janus looked between the two, accepting in his mind that this was really where the conversation was turning.

“Is there a way that you, ah...” Logan cleared his throat, “a way that you’ve learned to cope with that?” Patton’s brows scrunched in confusion, and he quickly rushed to explain. “Being around him all the time must be rather difficult, as he always...smells like our form of candy, I suppose you could word it.”

“Oh!” Patton’s eyes widened, before his cheeks went red. “Yeah, sometimes I just really wanna bite him. It’s an annoying thing to deal with, huh?” Logan nodded silently. “But like I overheard Jan tell you, we’ve been around him too long to actually hurt him. And I know you especially have a lot of self-control when it matters, so...try not to worry too much about it. You’re probably the least likely out of all of us to hurt him.”

“You were the one that stopped me when we first met him.” Logan spoke quietly. Patton shrugged, floating a few inches above the ground as he thought.

“But you were the one who got to him first. If I was the one that had tackled him, you probably would’ve had to pull me off! You have enough self-control to stop yourself with just a bit of help from us.” Patton took Logan’s hand, running his thumb across his knuckles. “I think that kinda proves that you won’t lose control and hurt him.”

Janus sighed, itching at an old bit of shed snakeskin. “We’ve all worried about what would happen if we lost control. And the truth is that it’s possible, probably more than likely, that we’ll end up hurting him at some point.”

The thought made them all go silent as it weighed down on their psyches. Hurting each other, especially their weaker human boyfriend, was the last thing they wanted to do, and they were all sure they would rather die than harm any of the others.

“But, it hasn’t happened yet, and we’re doing all we can right now to make sure it’s as least likely as possible.” Janus curled his tail around his boyfriends’ legs, snapping them out of the worried, distant blurriness in their eyes. “Let’s not worry too much about a future we can’t see yet, okay?”

They nodded, a weight feeling as though it had been lifted off Logan’s chest, as he for once didn’t plan out the rest of his day, instead opting to join Janus and Patton in what the two had dubbed self-care time, lying on the couch watching cartoons as the future grew blurry and distant.

[ateezmakemeweep]

richboy!seonghwa (part 27)

word count: 4k

angst, fluff

(part 26) (series masterlist)

the next few weeks were spent getting back into the swing of school. the hallways that were buzzing those first few days back quickly fizzled into a panic-induced frenzy. because if you thought the winter coursework was a nightmare, the spring proved to be much worse. 

“20 pages? 20 pages!” you exclaim in the library to mingi and yunho. “i don’t even know enough words to make an essay that long!”

“okay miss scholarship student,” yunho teases, smirking when you smack him playfully. 

“maybe if you weren’t so distracted by boys and read a dictionary instead, you’d be able to write those 20 pages,” mingi says casually, his own face in a book as he chews on a carrot stick. 

your mouth drops as yunho snorts into his hand, the satisfied smirk on the red head’s face quickly falling when you speak up. “you really wanna talk about being distracted by boys, mingi?”

that’s quick to shut him up, only the crunch of him chomping on the carrot stick and the sound of your own chuckle between the three of you. the squeak of the library door opening causes all of you to look, your neck craning back to see seonghwa walking through with two boys from your 4th period class.

your eyes meet and he only does his usual greeting to you, a simple head nod with the smallest of polite smiles on his face before he quickly looks away. you let out a sigh, turning around to see the two boys looking at you carefully.

“still not saying a word?”

“no,” you sigh. 

because the only time you managed to have a conversation with him was by catching him after your class the third day back at school. he’d been avoiding you like the plague and you suppose you understood that maybe he felt embarrassed about his drunken night and confessions. 

but you didn’t want him to feel like he couldn’t talk to you or that you were weirded out. so that’s why you watched the clock and got your books away before the bell, springing up from your seat when it rang reminding you of the other times you had to plan out a way to catch him before he bolted out. 

“seonghwa,” you said, voice quiet but strong as he stiffens upon hearing it. he turns to look at you and tries to smile but it falls flat, his eyes and entire body deflating slightly. 

“hey, y/n.”

the bustling of other students surrounds you as their feet scuffle and backpacks zip close, only a few people straying behind to wait for their friends or talk to the teacher. you two hold a tense eye contact, both of you unsure and guarded but for very different reasons. 

you don’t know if you’re making things harder for him while he doesn’t know if you’re completely perturbed by the shit he pulled last week. because he thinks if there’s two people more disturbed by it than him, it’s you and yeosang. 

“you’ve been avoiding me,” is all you say. because before that night, you guys were kind of back to normal. smiling and laughing and actually talking to one another. 

“and you know why,” he mumbles, leaning his arm on the desk as he looks up at you. 

“seonghwa, it’s fine,” you tell him softly. 

“it’s not,” he says, a humorless laugh leaving his mouth. “i don’t even remember what i said to you but i know it had to be-”

“nothing. it was nothing and nobody’s mad at you,” you tell him in an attempt to make him feel better.

“it wasn’t nothing, y/n,” he snaps, your eyes widening at his unusually harsh tone. and he knows you’re only trying to make him feel less embarrassed and ashamed but it only makes him feel worse. 

you hold your breath as you see him exhale one of his own, running his hand through his hair before he shakes his head. “i’m sorry,” he grunts lowly, “i’m just..i shouldn’t have done that.”

“and i shouldn’t have done a lot of things, either,” you tell him quietly, “i know...that that was kind of my fault.”

his adams apple bobs as he swallows, not even realizing the room has emptied out and people are waiting outside. he can only feel the thick tension between you two, your desperate attempt to make him feel better and make things between you guys normal again while he’s desperate to run away and just forget everything. 

but even after everything, he’s desperate to tell you nothing’s your fault. that you didn’t do anything wrong and there’s no fault to put on anyone. but then the more he thinks about it, the more he thinks maybe placing the blame on you would make you feel better.

ask why you kissed yeosang when you knew he liked you. ask why you kept it a secret for those weeks after even though you both knew it was wrong. ask why the hell you chose yeosang but still insist on talking to him. 

but he knows that’s not in his nature. he couldn’t ever put the blame on you when he sees how much it’s hurt you, how much you’ve cried and gone back and forth with yourself. it’s why he says:

“nothing was your fault,” he tells you. “i got drunk and said shit i shouldn’t have.”

“then why have you been avoiding me?” you ask softly. “yeosang said you haven’t really talked to him either.”

seonghwa swallows down the lump in his throat, his resolve to stay polite and good quickly leaving him. he shoots up from his desk and slugs his bag over his shoulder. he knows you mean well but he’s still sensitive and upset and the way he’s feeling hounded by you right now is making his skin prickle. 

“why are you attacking me, y/n?” 

his voice is such a short snap that it makes you draw back in offense; you were just trying to talk and make him feel better. 

“attacking you?” you ask, “i’m just...i’m just trying to tell you we’re okay. that nothing has to be...weird now.”

air blows out of his nose and he can’t bring himself to look at your face, his head turned back to look out in the hallway. he sees a few younger kids waiting for them to leave, like their able to sense the tense atmosphere and stay far away. 

it’s why he turns back and forces himself to look in your eyes, already feeling like an asshole when he sees the hurt and confusion swirling in yours. but for once in his life, he can’t bring himself to care that much. you say you guys are okay, but that’s not the case. he knows it, you know it, everyone probably knows it. 

but because he needs to get away before he becomes a person that he isn’t at his core, he nods his head at you.

“you’re right. we’re okay. nothing’s weird,” he says, his voice soft but not with the warm sincerity you’ve grown to know. “i gotta get to class, y/n. i’ll see you around.”

“seonghwa,” you breathe out. but he pushes past you and out of the classroom, the people waiting outside immediately filing in and taking their seats. 

that was the last time you’d talk to him and it was almost a month ago. you’ll see each other and nod or wave or attempt to smile but everything feels so forced and fake that it makes your stomach sink. 

“it’s like after the move night,” you tell the two boys looking at you curiously. “we were finally becoming friends again, kind of, and then that call changed everything.”

yunho and mingi look at you then toward seonghwa, who’s walking through the library and looking everywhere but their corner. their hearts hurt for him, knowing how hard these past months have been for everyone but especially him. and they know you mean well but expecting him to be friends with you is a little...unrealistic right now.

“he’ll be friends with you when he’s ready,” mingi tells you, gently but firmly the way he always does. “it’s not that easy, y/n. think about if you felt the way you do about yeosang but he rejected you. and then try to imagine if he kept insisting you guys could be friends.”

you let out a sigh, knowing he has a point and is absolutely correct. but it still hurts your heart because you do love seonghwa and his friendship and everything he has to offer as a person. 

but if he needs you to wait, you’ll wait. because you don’t wanna lose your first friend here over something as silly as a drunken night. 

“did seonghwa talk to you today?” yeosang asks as you plop down in his car, leaning over to place a peck on his cheek before throwing your bag onto the floor. 

“nope,” you say, a frown on your face before you ask him the same. 

“not really,” yeosang says, shaking his head as he holds his palm up for you to take. “just his usual safe bullshit.” 

him and seonghwa are in a similar spot that they were in after the movie night fight, tip toeing around each other and using their other friends as buffers. it’s not as bad, since they’re able to be in the same room as each other, but it’s still not their usual friendship; it’s why yeosang’s decided that today he’s had enough. he misses his friend and they have to talk it out again.

“that’s why i’m going to his house later tonight,” he continues. 

“oh?” you squeak, playing with his fingers as he starts to drive off. 

“yeah, i don’t know if he wants me to like...talk to him about that night?” yeosang questions, wondering if his friend is thinking he’s harboring ill feelings about the whole thing. because he was at first, but it hadn’t had anything to do with seonghwa. it was his own insecurities and stupid brain concocting a bunch of a bullshit. “but i have to go over there. last time it went well and he definitely wanted to punch me in the face back then. so this time should be fine.”

you giggle at his comment, nodding your head before looking over at him again. “maybe let him get one in this time. for fun.”

his eyes roll toward you and your teeth dig into your bottom lip as you smile, your eyes lighting up when he says if that were the case, you’d be the one taking care of him afterward. you peck him on the lips and then do it again when you’re in front of your house, wishing him good luck and reminding him not to be an asshole later. 

“i don’t know where you get this impression that i’m ever an asshole.”

his cute boyish chuckle rings through his open window after you slam the door at his comment, blushing and waving him off when he screams out the three words you’re still getting shy and giddy hearing.

yeosang waits until dinnertime to go over to seonghwa’s, texting the boy that he’s bringing chinese food and to have the door open for him. he doesn’t get an answer but knows the boy saw it when he gets there twenty minutes later, walking into the house and hearing the tv on in the living room. 

he sees seonghwa laid out on the couch, passing right by the kitchen counter and missing the passport papers and boarding school pamphlet laid out for everyone to see. but it appears his house is empty again, everything spotless and untouched like a soul hasn’t lived here in months. 

“hey,” is all he says, placing the food on the coffee table before plopping down on the couch. 

“hey,” seonghwa says, eyeing the plastic bag before looking at the boy. “thanks for the food, though it didn’t seem like i had much of a choice.”

“you turning down a free meal now, you fuck?”

seonghwa smirks at the boy, fishing in the bag for a plastic fork before throwing one at yeosang. “don’t get shit on the couch. my mom will-” the words die in his throat when he realizes even if something did get on them, he could probably buy a new couch and have it shipped to his home before anyone  noticed. “actually, it doesn’t even matter.”

“i won’t,” yeosang says, popping open his container before shoving a piece of sesame chicken in his mouth. the boys eat in a relative silence, a stray comment about the tv show and the sounds of their chewing filling the room. 

“how long have your parents been gone?” yeosang finds himself asking, fishing around his bowl as he successfully avoids the pieces of broccoli. 

“don’t know, maybe since november. hadn’t talked to them in a while.”

yeosang’s eyes widen, placing his sock-covered foot on the table and smirking when seonghwa smacks his foot down immediately. “hwa, what the fuck, you’ve been here alone for almost five months?” 

the boy only shrugs in response, stuffing his mouth with a dumpling as he mumbles “i guess.”

“assholes,” yeosang grumbles, shaking his head before the last part of his sentence rings in his head. “but you’ve talked to them recently, then?” 

the boy only answers with a short “yeah,” but yeosang doesn’t find anything about it suspicious. after all, they’re always a little short and cryptic when it comes to issues with their parents. 

they finish eating as they watch tv, yeosang laying back on the couch with a grunt when his stomach feels like it’s about to explode. seonghwa wipes his mouth with a napkin before picking up the food, humming when the boy laid out thanks him quietly.

seonghwa dumps the food in the trash before eyeing the papers on the table, his gaze roaming to yeosang before back on the counter with a sigh. he licks at his lips questioningly, the short phone call with his father replaying in his mind.

“looks like we’ll be here for a few more months,” his dad told him firmly. it’s the first thing he said after saying hi, not a ‘how are you?’ or ‘have you been eating?’ just a pleasant reminder that he’ll be alone in his huge house for a bit longer. 

“oh,” is all he managed to get out. and whether his dad heard the disappointment in his voice or not, the next sentence that left his mouth throughly shocked him. 

“i know it’s your senior year but we figured we’d ask. would you wanna go to school here?”

his eyes widened at first, his immediate instinct to say absolutely not and enjoy the life of being a teenager whose parents are abroad in france. but he can’t even lie that the thought of getting away could be just what he needs right now. because his life hasn’t felt right for the past few months. 

and he’s not only thinking about the whole thing with you and yeosang. he’s considering how much he’s hated being alone here, how he’s so sick of the empty house and not hearing from his parents for weeks. how he no longer wants to bother his friends with his weepy nonsense while they’re trying to enjoy their last moments of high school.

but does he really wanna do that? does he want to leave his friends and school and move to a country where he doesn’t know anybody? 

“i-i...” he stutters, unsure of how exactly how to answer. but with his son not immediately blurting out the word ‘no,’ the man offers him time to think about it, informing him of the name and telling him to print out the brochure on the school’s website. 

“it’s a great school, seonghwa. it’d be a good opportunity and my colleague’s son goes there. but we’re not gonna force you, it’s all up to you.”

that conversation was a little over a week ago and seonghwa had still been going back and forth with himself, every night going going over the pros and cons in his head. because while a part of him thinks it’d be good for him, another part of him isn’t sure. 

but then when he pads his way back over to the living room and see’s yeosang sitting up with a serious expression, his brain pushes all of that out of his mind. he knew the boy had ulterior motives for coming over and now he thinks he’s about to get his ass handed to him. 

“you know we gotta talk about it,” is all his friend says, placing his foot on his knee as the boy looks at him. “stop looking like i’m gonna punch you in the face.”

seonghwa lets out a snort, rolling his eyes as he plops back down on the couch. “you probably deserve to,” the boy mumbles. 

there’s a few beats of silence before he hears, “you’re fucking joking, right?” seonghwa’s head snaps up immediately, raising an eyebrow as his friend just looks at him in disbelief. “you’re too good a guy, seonghwa, i swear to fuck.”

the boy only lets out a humorless laugh and shakes his head, looking away for a moment before back at his friend. “how do you figure? i called your girlfriend in a drunken fit and confessed all of my feelings to her.”

“she said you couldn’t remember anything,” he says. tone not accusing nor angry.

“i don’t,” seonghwa says, “but i know that’s what happened.”

yeosang looks at his friend and can see the inner turmoil he’s feeling, wishing the boy wasn’t always so hard on himself. he puts aside his own shit all the time to spare others and it’s something yeosang wishes he could do so easily.

“okay. so what?” yeosang says. seonghwa raises an eyebrow as he looks at his friend in confusion. did he not just hear him say he told his girlfriend he had feelings for her? not like he didn’t already know...but still.

“seonghwa, we all already fuckin’ knew that. we also know i was wrong in the first place for kissing her when i knew you liked her.” the boy pops his neck to the side, remembering the blow out fight they had in the basement that felt like it was, both somehow, yesterday and a year ago. 

“but i know also you’d never do anything. you’re my best friend and you’re just too fucking good.”

seonghwa looks at yeosang and swallows the lump in his throat, shaking his head at the boy. he doesn’t feel like he’s good, he doesn’t like that he put you in that position in the first place and he doesn’t like that he couldn’t put his feelings aside for his best friend’s girlfriend, no matter how sneakily you guys started.

“you’re also a fuckin’ pussy so...”

seonghwa rolls his eyes and kicks the boy roughly in the leg, smirking in satisfaction when yeosang lets out a pained groan. “you’re such a dick.” and just like a dick would, he only laughs before his face turns serious again. 

“i’m serious, though, seonghwa,” yeosang says, “neither of us are mad or uncomfortable or any of that bullshit. we did have a fight that night but it’s because i was being a bitch.” 

seonghwa raises his eyebrow at that tid bit of information; he didn’t know about that. 

“she cares about you seonghwa. probably more than she’ll ever admit to me,” he continues to say. “because she was going no matter what i said. she didn’t want you being there drunk and upset.”

and even though seonghwa knows you’d do that for anyone, it does make him happy to know you were gonna be there for him no matter what. because you’re his friend and even if that’s all you see him as, it’s still someone in his life that’s there for him. that should make him want to stay and finish the year out where he grew up. 

but...

“i’m going to france,” he blurts out. 

a dead silence hangs between the two boys, yeosang staring at his friend in immense confusion; that was the last thing he was expecting him to say. what does he mean he’s going to france? 

“what?”

and it’s like saying it aloud has finally made the decision final. he thinks he even knew that’s what he wanted, what he needed, the second he got off the phone with his dad that night. that even though he’s almost an adult, he needs his parents around for guidance and support and can’t be in this house for days at a time with just his own thoughts. 

“my dad told me about a school there,” he finally tells the boy, now wishing he would’ve told him sooner by the look on yeosang’s face. “said it’s a good opportunity and asked if i wanted to go.”

“and you said yes?” yeosang asks in bewilderment, trying to keep his composure and voice calm. but what the fuck, “it’s our senior year, seonghwa. we’re supposed to be graduating in like four months.”

“yeah and no one would even be here to see me graduate, yeosang. they’re gonna be there for god knows how much longer.”

“so?” yeosang asks, knowing he might have a tiny point but not wanting to see it. because his brain can’t stop connecting all of this to the drama that’s been happening this whole entire school year and now he thinks he might be feeling the crushing guilt you’ve been experiencing. 

seonghwa lets out a small chuckle at his friend, shaking his head as he looks over the boy. “so i want my parents to see me graduate. and if that means going to france, then that’s that.”

“thats bullshit, seonghwa, and you know it,” he says. “this is because of y/n, isn’t it?”

seonghwa swallows the obvious elephant in the room. because, yeah okay, he can totally see why he thinks that. he’ll even admit it may be playing a role in this. but even without all the drama, he might’ve considered this opportunity. 

“no,” seonghwa says firmly. 

“don’t fucking lie to me,” yeosang spits back immediately. 

seonghwa rolls his eyes at the boy’s temper, his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek before he throws his arm’s up in defense. “okay, it might have a little bit to do with-”

“fuck, seonghwa,” yeosang groans, getting up from his spot on the couch and pacing around the large living room. he allows his friend the time to process this, watching silently as the boy walks around the room and goes through the motions of allowing the information to sink in.

“if your feelings for her were this strong, you should’ve-”

“it’s not only because of you and her, yeosang, don’t think so highly of yourselves,” seonghwa says, surprising yeosang and causing a smirk to quirk at his lips despite the situation. it even causes him to settle ever so slightly, still feeling a pit in his stomach about his best friend really considering leaving just months before their senior year is over.

he lets out a sigh looking at the boy, not seeing an ounce of hatred or envy in his eyes. just an open honesty that causes yeosang to plop back down on the couch. 

“so, paris?” he finally asks as he looks at seonghwa. 

“i...i think so, yeah,” the boy responds, smiling sadly at his friend. he never would’ve thought in a million years that they’d be having this conversation. that seonghwa would actually take his father’s offer and allow him to ship him off to a fancy, school in europe. 

“and it’s really not because of...everything?” yeosang asks, still unconvinced but trying for his friend, and maybe even himself, to believe the alternative. 

“no,” seonghwa says, “i’ve been feeling...lonely, i guess, in this house. they weren’t even around much but when they were it was good, ya know.” yeosang only gives him a sad smile back, shaking his head as he feels his heart sink.

“no, i don’t.”

seonghwa looks down and wants to laugh at the situation. because there’s nothing more pathetic and cliche than sad kids with mansions and black cards. but if seonghwa has parents who are better than most wealthy ones and yeosang has a girlfriend who he’s incredibly lucky to have, then he thinks both of them are gonna be okay.

“not to take one from your book and be a pussy, but i think i’m gonna miss you.”

seonghwa throws his head back in laughter and it’s the first real laugh he thinks he’s had in weeks. but it’s always been like that with yeosang, a balance of teasing and serious that naturally comes after years of friendship. 

“well i’ll be here for another week. cry then you little bitch.”

and now it’s yeosang’s turn to kick seonghwa in the leg, both the boys snorting in laughter as they try to contain their smiles. it feels good for them to be back to normal, turning their attention back to the show before suggesting to put on one of their favorite movies. 

and with something unspoken in the air, yeosang and seonghwa crash on the couch that night because neither of them would ever utter the term slumber party to one another.

(part 28)