#he’s funny but i got distracted by the tattoos and arms and thighs and hair

[sunglassesmish]

🫢👀

[hey-august]

August I will not make you persue ideas you don’t want to pursue further but I gotta admit Tattoo!artist Buggy is just. NNF. Personal basic bitch au right here. Guy who needles you (…. HAH!) about your shitty stick and poke you got from your even shittier ex boyfriend, but then makes you laugh when he asks you what he did and then openly mocks him in a nasally voice. The hot guy with long hair, a full- ,nautical themed, sleeve and a bunch of piercings. The flashy artist who will always try to put his own spin on his tattoos, lest someone walk out of his place with something unoriginal. The hardass, Mr. “Chop Chop” alluding to the many scars he’s acquired in his (even more) criminal youth, who makes a big deal of being able to take it all. “Fuck yeah it hurts” and “No crying in the chair.”, signs on the wall. Probably named his studio something like “Circus of pain” or equally edgy…

And then he has to stop his knees from trembling when your sessions are done and you shyly ask him if you can give him his number. He hates that! He was supposed to be all suave and badass and ask for YOUR number!!

Oh anon, you have got ALL THE IDEAS. 🩷🩷🩷

Not actually a story, but your wonderful ideas got the thoughts running... WC: ~700 Warnings: SFW, a little bit suggestive here and there

A shop like “Circus of Pain” has quite the reputation. The awning is a nostalgic red and white with string lights underneath.

Flash sheets everywhere - crocodiles and hawks, ships and compasses, fruits and botanicals, lions, knives, anchors… There’s just so much. Every place you look, something new catches your eye. Until the tattoo artist comes in. The whole reason you chose this place.

He’s talented. That’s why. That’s definitely the reason why. He’s also funny. Someone who embraces the nickname Mr. Chop Chop has to be funny. He says you can call him Buggy, though. That wink. Wow. And his smile. But you came for the talent.

Buggy loves to show off. When you ask for a tattoo tour, he was more than thrilled to oblige. You don’t miss the subtle flexes as he shows his full sleeves. Or how he hikes his shorts up extra high to show you his legs. You were not prepared for all the sweet extras when he pulled up his shirt, though. Pierced nipples and a happy trail that was covered all too quickly when he dropped his shirt.

You recover when you see the dusting of blush cross his face when you shower him with compliments. You throw in a few roasts and watch his cheeks get even redder. It’s cute how he can't control the volume of his voice when he gets flustered. Especially when he remembers that you’re getting a piece on your thigh.

Buggy is a professional. He has a reputation to uphold. As much as he wants to run his hand on your leg a little longer, to feel your skin against his, to dig his fingers in your thigh…. Phew, it’s time for a break. Just a few minutes. He needs to go clear his head. Get some cold water. Spend some time alone.

You ask if it’s alright to order food now, which is more than fine. And even better when you order extra for him. The break is extended so you two can chow down and chat.

Buggy is so funny. And talented. He keeps you laughing and talking, anything to keep you distracted from the pain. He keeps an eye on how your body moves, when you seem too tense, when you hold your breath, when your hands clench. 

That means he catches all the moments that you glance at him. When you stare a little longer than normal, admiring his long lashes and beautiful eyes. The focused faces he makes. Buggy’s emotive - frowning and smiling every other second. Your eyes hang on his hands as they work. His arms as they move. And those shorts that creep a little high when he sits down.

These thoughts give Buggy plenty to think about in between your sessions. Maybe you’re looking at him because he’s a weirdo. Because he’s not good looking. Maybe you laugh at him because he is the one tattooing you. Maybe you’re afraid of him messing with the tattoo, so you try to bribe his kindness with food and laughter. Maybe he should pick different outfits. Maybe…

Maybe you do like him. Maybe that’s why you keep coming back. Why you arrive early. Why you pick the food places he recommends. Maybe you don’t stop breathing from pain, but because he’s so close. And you like him.

Buggy hopes that’s the case.

He swallows that hope at the end of your last session. That tattoo is finished and absolutely fantastic - flashy, even! You like it, he likes it, and…

Before he could offer you his number, you are already offering yours. 

Buggy had a whole plan! He was going to be so smooth, offering to give you his number in case you had any questions while you're healing, if you wanted to book another appointment with him directly, if you ordered too much food and needed his help finishing, if you wanted to grab a drink some time and talk.

All those thoughts fly out of his head as you sit there nervously, waiting for his answer.

Maybe he didn’t like you. Maybe you were just a client and this was incredibly rude and inappropriate.

But maybe he did like you. And maybe he did want to see you again.

Buggy nearly fell apart. He was head over heels trading numbers. Struck with one last bolt of suave inspiration, he suggested taking a selfie together so you could both use it as a contact pic.

The first picture was fine. A little stiff, if anything. The second one was silly, you each made goofy faces. And the third one…that's your favorite. At the last moment, you turned and kissed him on the cheek. Now you have a rare and treasured picture of Mr. Chop Chop looking surprised and blushing like an absolute fool.

[zaenight]

wanheda commander of death ch2

Tw:small Spicy scene👹

The group had found a small compound that they called home,it wasn't much but it would do for now.

They named themselves the reapers,usually clad in mask and black oufits.

Cordelia either went with Leah and Carver,or watched Matthew and tended to wounds.

although she herself prefered war paint over the mask her companions wore.

Anyways........

Cordelia Layed in a makeshift bed reading a book she found on a run.

The bed shifted slowly as Carver kissed her bare back,her tattoos on display as he traced the patterns.



The tattoos were a shock to some who didn't know the eighteen year old doctor,lets just say they were usually walked in on by their comrads who usually run out of the room with Carver threatening to kill them.

*Cough* Bossie and Turner*Cough*.

As Cordelia turned around Carver captured her lips in a kiss which soon turned into a heavy make out session.

Cordelia softly moaned as Carver trailed kisses down her stomach and the inside of thighs.

As the couple were about to go into pound town the door slammed open.

"What the fuck man!" Brandon exclaimed,while he covered himself and Cordelia.

"OH GOD!" bossie yelled covering his eyes,before stammering and running out of the room that Pope asked for them and Leah to go on a run.

Brandon muttered curses under his breath before kissing Cordelia's neck.

"We're continuing this later." He said smirking.

Cordelia laughed as the two got dressed and the two made their way to the gates

were leah awaited.

The three in Black oufits with hoods,Carver and Leah wore mask that covered their face,While Cordelia wore black warpaint across her eyes with small designs here and there.

Carrying her Bow and a bag of medical supplies she passed by Matthew and viola who were being chased by Powell and Mancea who were stuck babysiting.

She shook her head with a small smile making her way to her sister and husband,who wrapped a arm around her waist.

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

The three went into a small town going in and out of stores grabbing food and medical supplies.

Pope had told them to kill anyone on sight,as days went by the man grew colder and crueler,although he saw them as his children,his favorite being leah and Cordelia.

But Cordelia knew one day the man would cause some of their deaths one day.

All of a sudden a hoarde of over thirty rotters came,The three managing to get into a small shop huddling together.

Carver gripped his wife's shoulder as one of the rotters came by the door.

The rotter looked freshly turned,almost slaming open the glass door before stammering away.

Until a groan alearted the three and Two rotters snarled launching at them.

Carver stabbed one in the head as Leah shot the other,which attracted the hoarde.

Cordelia gripped her dagger as Carver and Leah grabbed their weopons,they got enough food and essentials,the dead ones were the only thing standing in their way.

The hoarde got distraced as a Deer came out of the Wooded area near the shops, the three got ready to leave while the rotters were still distracted.

Cordelia saw the ones they killed and got an Idea,She kneeled down with her dagger and gutted them rubbing blood over herself,Carver and leah followed soon after.

"Never in a million years did I think I would be covered in guts and fighting for my life." Cordelia said as they slowly went out the door.

"And yet here we are." Leah stated.

"Yeah,now lets get the hell out of here." Carver said,looking to see if any rotters followed.

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

They made their way back to the small compound,as they entered Matthew hugged Leah and waved at Carver and Cordelia,Viola barked as her tail wagged as Carver petted her.

(its gonna be so funny because dog bites him in the future lmao.)

He ran his hand through his hair that was slowly growng out,soon wrapping his arm around Cordelia who kissed his cheek.

luckily the three had no injuries,and explained why they were covered in Blood and guts.

---------

Cordelia and Brandon stood in the shower,thank god they found a place with running water, the blood and guts rinsing off.

As the two finished up they Laughed walking outside to the small bonfire that the guys had made,grabbing one of the many cans of soup they luckily found.

She sat in his lap as The two talked to Leah who held Matthew,Viola layed next to their feet her tail wagging slowly.

It was always like this,they sat and ate while Pope started a speech about God and how he chose us.

No one dared objected his theories,afraid of his anger.

And no one would admit it but the only one who scared them more than Pope was Cordelia.

Don't underestimate her,don't test her and don't tempt her fury,there will be hell to pay if you do.

She smiled softly as Carver kissed her head,The two making Matthew laugh with silly jokes and faces.

Cordelia was probably the only person to get Carver to Show his true self,Happy,kind and a jokester,instead of a grade A cocky asshole.

But the one thing about him was that he was Loyal and fierce,and would do anything to protect his Family.

And all hell would break loose if Cordelia were to get hurt or die,he would go on a rampage and kill what ever stood in his path,Leah would be the second person who would do anything drastic if her baby sister died.

Those two would do anything if Cordelia was Harmed,you better run and hide because if you lay a hand on her,you'll be dead and never see the next day.

And for that the group was thankful Cordelia always came back Breathing.

As the couple said their goodnights,they walked into their room,the door slamming shut as Cordelia wrapped her legs around his waist.

Brandon took off his shirt,softly throwing her on the makeshift bed and getting on top kissing her lips.

"Now where were we before we were were interupted Beautiful." Brandon said,their eyes full of lust and love.

And with that their room was filled with grunts and soft soft moans.

--------

A/n:

(Not gonna lie they should have showed the reapers more,and keep some alive instead of killing them all,would have loved to see more of their skills,and pope was waisted potential,Carver was like the daryl of the reapers,Loyal and would do anything for them, Him and negan could have been a great comedic duo,Would have liked to see Leah have a friendship with Carol and Connie,they could have gotten a redemtion ark like negan.)

[lathalea]

Day 13: Cookies

Today's fic for the Writer’s Month 2021 challenge (see @writersmonth for more info) was prompted by @gwen-ever who told me once that there were not enough Dwalin fics in the world. This is my attempt to correct it. THIS IS FOR YOU, YOU HARD-WORKING WOMAN! 💙💙💙

It’s also my first time with Dwalin as a romantic interest, so forgive me for any errors (also, I was in a hurry) - I hope he’s not too much OOC. Any constructive feedback welcome.

Today's prompt: word: night | setting: tattoo parlor AU

Fandom: The Hobbit Relationships: Dwalin x Reader Warnings: grumpy dwarves, 2k words (Mahal help me) Rating: G/T

Have you ever wondered what would happen if you were a tattoo artist in Erebor (Everyone Lives AU) and Dwalin visited your shop?

As usual, you can read this fic here and on AO3.

* * *

Cookies

The first time that big, angry-looking Dwarf visited your little tattoo parlour, he wanted to touch up some of his tattoos that had faded over time. He had quite a few of them on his body: on his hands, his forearms, even quite a few on top of his head, and you suspected there were more in other places. Being a tattoo artist, you recognized the type easily. For many warriors, it was a way to record their greatest victories and achievements. Judging by the tattoos scattered all over his skin, this one saw many battles.

As you worked on inking the old patterns on his left hand, he sat still, not speaking much; you only managed to drag out of him that he was a warrior, and his name was Dwalin. You did your best when working on his tattoos and even improved their look a bit. After finishing your work, you asked whether he was satisfied with the outcome and were rewarded with a grunt and a nod. Oh well, you thought, perhaps he was just one of those Dwarves of few words.

The second time he visited your little tattoo parlour, he came with a friend, a cheerful Dwarf in a funny hat called Bofur who kept on amusing you with the anecdotes from their travels while you worked on Dwalin’s head tattoos. The warrior would sit still, grunting or chuckling from time to time in all the right places, but that was all he did. After you were done, Dwalin got up from the chair, stretched his impressive body, muttered a few words of thanks pointedly avoiding your eyes, and disappeared through the door as fast as he could. Bofur grinned, made a silly joke, and followed his friend. You sighed. Was Dwalin not happy with your work? Did you take too much of his time and he had a busy schedule? Mahal, have you offended him somehow? Touched his hair by mistake? No, you were sure you didn’t do anything of the sort.

The third time he came, he brought a new and complicated tattoo design that he wanted to add to his existing tattoos and cover his whole arm with the pattern. He agreed on the price at once without any haggling, surprising you completely. A Dwarf that did not haggle was an unusual sight. But perhaps he had a lot on his mind, so you simply shrugged and got on with your work. You couldn’t help but admire his tanned, muscular arm he bared for you, along with his large, calloused hand, but you scolded yourself for unprofessional thoughts. Of course he would have strong arms, a wide chest, and powerful thighs, he was a warrior! You tattooed plenty of those limbs before, but you didn’t know why seeing a piece of this particular Dwarf’s body made your cheeks burn and your heart race.

Starting a friendly conversation with him sounded like a good idea, a welcome distraction, but you completely failed in your efforts. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think there was a huge, hairy bear sitting in your tattoo chair, staring blankly at the wall, and not Dwalin, son of Fundin. And so you worked in silence. When you finished your work for the day, you tried to coax a few words out of him and once again asked whether he liked the results so far. Dwalin looked at you from under his furrowed brow, pulled his bushy moustache, and said:

“Mhmm.”

That was it. You sighed, and then grunted, and groaned. And then you had to stop, worried that you’d turn into a bear yourself. That Dwarf was impossible!

His fourth visit looked exactly the same. And his fifth one. And the sixth one, too. He grunted, huffed, but barely said a word. You tried to ignore the way his muscles played under his skin and worked on the pattern. And when you informed him that you were done for the day, he would nod or pull his moustache again, and leave lightning fast, as if the mountain was crumbling down around him.

His seventh visit was a literal catastrophe. Dwalin came a bit earlier than usual, in the late afternoon, while you were still working on another customer. The large warrior sat down in a chair nearby and just stared at you, his gaze bright and piercing. You welcomed him as always and offered a plate of cookies that lay on the table beside him. A nod was all you got. You returned to your work, feeling Dwalin’s heavy gaze on you.

And then he grunted. Your other customer, a red-haired miner, shifted nervously in the tattoo chair.

Dwalin growled. The customer cleared his throat and you noticed how his muscles tensed as you worked on a tattoo on his chest.

Dwalin huffed. That was enough for your other customer. He asked you to interrupt your work and informed you he had just recalled an urgent business in the merchants’ quarter that he had to attend to.

When the customer left your tattoo parlour, you met Dwalin’s intent gaze, resting your hands on your hips. You couldn’t believe your eyes. Not only were there a few cookie crumbs in his beard, but also a small smirk of triumph danced on his lips! You had enough!

“What does that supposed to mean?! How dare you scare away my other customers?! Do you think that being a big warrior gives you the right to barge in here and throw angry looks at everyone? How am I even supposed to focus on work with your constant grunting and growling?! Don’t you have better things to do?!”

Dwalin took a step towards you, folded his arms across his chest, and simply said, “No.”

Silence filled the room. You suddenly noticed that his tunic was new, his hair was freshly washed and combed, and his boots were newly polished. He smelled like some exotic spices.

You shook your head, “Is that what you have for me?! A frown and a one-syllable word?!”

When the ground shook beneath your feet, you first thought it was your anger, but then the realization came. A mountain quake. It intensified quickly, making you fall to the ground. Everything went dark while the tremors grew. You heard the low rumbling of the rock beneath you, some shouts and noises, objects crashing against each other. Something heavy pressed you to the ground, perhaps a piece of furniture, at the same moment as big chunks of the ceiling started falling to the floor. You tried to move, but you couldn’t. The only thing you could do was cough, the stone dust filling your lungs.

The tremors stopped as unexpectedly as they started. Once again you tried to move and the heavy object above you grunted. Of course. It wasn’t a table nor a chair. It was Dwalin. “Get… off…” you muttered. “I need to breathe!”

Another grunt followed, but he lifted his weight from you. Your shop was now as dark as night, but your eyes adjusted to the surroundings quickly. You realized that he was now staring at your face, sitting beside you.

“Are you well, lass?” he asked. Four words. Impressive. “I… I think so,” you sat up, relieved that you haven’t been injured.

“Thank Mahal,” he muttered, staring at you intently.

At that moment, you weren’t too happy that Dwarves could see quite well in the dark. From what you could observe, your tattoo parlour seemed to be ruined. There was broken furniture, your tools and inks crushed by large pieces of stone - you could only hope that your backroom with all the supplies remained intact.

You turned to Dwalin and then you realized that something glistened on his cheek.

“You are wounded!” you gasped.

“‘Tis but a scratch, lass,” he protested.

“No, it’s not! You’re bleeding!” You moved towards him anyway, tearing off a piece of fabric from your tunic.

“It is nothing,” he started, but then your hand touched his face. As you felt the softness of his beard under your hand, he stiffened, closing his eyes for a moment longer than usual.

“It doesn’t look like nothing to me! Let me help.”

You received a grunt in reply and proceeded to take care of his face. He simply sat there, unmoving, as you gently dabbed his temple.

“I saw that huge stone over there. If not for you, I...” you spoke quietly. “Thank you for saving me, Dwalin.”

“Think nothing of it, lass. I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you,” he lowered his face towards yours. Not believing your ears, you retorted, attempting to joke to mask your feelings, “It is because... I haven’t finished your tattoo yet, isn’t it?” His eyes shone in the darkness like two diamonds when his hand covered yours and pressed it against his cheek.

“No,” he spoke huskily.

Dwalin’s nose brushed against yours, and then somehow your lips met his, or perhaps it was the other way around. His moustache was surprisingly soft against your skin and his lips gently caressed yours, sending a myriad of shivers down your spine. He tasted like molten dark chocolate and went to your head like good whiskey. Strong and intoxicating. Who would have thought there was so much tenderness hidden behind that scary warrior’s facade?

Dwalin swallowed, pressing his forehead against yours, and then words started spilling out of his mouth, like a sudden mountain avalanche.

“Lass… I need to tell ye somethin’ I wanted to tell ye for a while. When I saw that stone fallin’, I could only think of how I never told ye that…” his voice trailed off and he grunted. “Ye must think me a grump with no manners, and ye’ll be right. Ye’re so talented and quick-witted, and as pretty as a summer day! I forget my tongue every time I see ye.”

Your eyes widened. This silent warrior had just spoken not only a full sentence, but quite a few of them.

“Dwalin…?” you whispered, still dizzy from the kiss, not quite comprehending.

“Aye, ye barely know me, but I’d like to change it. Will you allow me to court you?” his hopeful gaze rested on your face.

This bear of a Dwarf was the grumpiest person you have ever known, and his grunts could scare away a rabid warg, but you’d always liked a challenge. No words were necessary; you simply kissed Dwalin, showing him how much you liked this idea.

A few moments after your lips parted, he murmured, a hint of disbelief in his voice, “So... ye’re not scared of me, are ye, lass?”

“Scared?! I’ve been annoyed with you, that’s what I was, you… You oaf!”

Dwalin opened his mouth and started laughing. As surprising as it was, you had to admit to yourself that he had a pleasant laughter.

“What’s so funny about that?!” you demanded.

“Ye’re a fiery lass. There is no one else who would dare to say it to my face.”

“Well, I do and prepare to hear more of such things in future if you ever return to communicating with me by grunts!” you warned him, stifling a giggle. “Then I’ll be lookin’ forward to our little sparrings,” he chuckled and kissed your cheek tenderly. “But before that, I have one more question for you before we try to find our way out from here.”

“What is it?” You tilted your head.

“Are there any more of those cookies left?”

* * *

P.S. If you liked "Blame It on Cider", I have good news for you: Thorin and Yrsa are going to come back tomorrow!

Read it? Like it? Spread the love and reblog it!

Fell like reading more? Here is my masterlist for the Writer's Month 2021 event.

Taglist: @fizzyxcustard @shrimpsthings​ @dark-angel-is-back @sherala007 @amelia307 @anyaspidergirl-blog @jotink78 @rachel1959 @saltwater-in-the-afternoon @linasofia @legolasbadass @justfollowtheroad @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @yourqueenunderthemountain @reblogunderthemountain @guardianofrivendell @elrawienthewhite @xmly-xo @tschrist1 @nelleedraws @beenovel @vee-vee-writes @mcchiberry @shalinizhara @dumbassunderthemountain @errruvande

[yunkiwii]

~23:46~ {hongjoongxgn!reader, fluff, slice of life, tattoos, wc:700}

"why did you get tattoos on your back?", you ask quietly, not worried about how dumb this kind of questions might sound anymore.

hongjoong shrugged his shoulders chuckling at your very random question. he was laying on his stomach right next to you, as you sat with your back against the headboard of his bed with his right arm resting on your thighs. the book in your hands was long forgotten as you got distracted by the black lines that drew mesmerising designs on your boyfriend’s back.

"which one is your favourite?", he retorted at you, turning his head to face you with a cheeky smile as he supported himself on his left elbow.

you let the book fall open on your lap to caress his hair, still half-wet, and with said movement a scent of sweet almonds invaded your senses.

"hm, let me look closer at them", you let your hand rest at the back of his head as he lets himself fall down on the mattress again.

"you've seen them plenty of times, jagi", hongjoong chuckles once more, his right hand tapping your hip lightely before resting there.

you, on the other hand, slid down on the bed just a little to become closer to him. your fingers tracing his skin from the back of his neck to the middle of his back, following the abstract lines that created an irregular path. you loved the unorganised organisation of that path, stopping right above his last rib, as if it was made to tell you he liked to be kissed there.

but as much as you loved the thicker lines, your eyes always diverted to the finer ones on both his shoulder blades.

"the cherubs. the cherubs are my favourites."

"and why's that?", hongjoong pulls you closer to him, placing a soft kiss on your bare shoulder.

"the design itself is very pretty, but the fact they are facing each other in such a perfectly symmetrical way, it's like the lines in the middle work as a mirror. the whole thing is very pleasing to look at."

"glad to know im also pretty from behind", your boyfriend laughs into your neck, his hot breath tickling and sending shivers down your spine.

"oh, so that's the reason why you did them!", you look down at him with a faked surprise before pouting, "cute..."

you both fall into a quiet laughter once more, partly because you found yourselves funny like that, but mostly because you felt the most content with each other.

hongjoong took the book from your lap, placing it on the nightstand only to lay his head there instead, beginning to drift in and out of sleep.

after a while, with your restless mind still hung up on his marked skin, you called his name through a whisper, almost inaudible, "hongjoongie..."

"hm.. yes?", you bite your lip at the sound of his raspy voice, mentally slapping your forehead for waking him up.

"uh, nothing... nevermind, sorry i woke you up baby.", you take his hand in yours, bringing it to your lips as he turned to face you, eyebrows furrowed and sleepy eyes.

"no, what is it? is everything okay?"

"it's kinda stupid joongie..."

"it's okay, you can say it. it's just me", hongjoong sits up, resting his back against the headboard and pulling you into his embrace.

"the cherubs aren't my favourites just for being pleasing to look at...", you hesitate a little, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, too shy to look him in the eye, "i also like to think they're there to protect you when i can't"

with the lack of verbal response, hongjoong simply holding you a little tighter and chuckling lowly, you felt your cheeks heating up.

"i told you it was stupid! its embarrassing!"

"no, no, its not! trust me, it's not stupid or embarrassing.", hongjoong lifts your chin and your eyes are met with the ones of a smiling man, one who cups your cheek before pecking the tip of your nose, "it makes me very happy to hear that. i just made them because they looked cool, but now i will forever associate them with you."

taglist: @su-lix @bobateastay @serialee @leihey ♡

⇢ let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist ♡

[fairyoftbz]

childish fear | l. juyeon

⚔ pairing: stranger!juyeon x single mom! fem! reader ⚔ genre: fluff ⚔ wc : 3.2k ⚔ tw: none ⚔ a/n: im so sorry it's been so long but my work keeps me super busy and i hate my unposted fics that i wrote in the past, hence my absence. i promise to come back here asap!! <33 ⚔ requested: no

╰☆☆☆☆╮

“Mommy, where are we going?” your daughter asked for the nth time as you guided her foot by the ankle in her shoe. Her tiny hand leant on your shoulder while you fastened the Velcro straps and zipped up her jacket, walking out of your apartment to the corridor of your floor. She watched you locked the front door and sliding the keys in your handbag before grabbing her hand to the elevator.

“As I’ve told you, we’re heading to a coffee shop to see Uncle Kevin and Jinseon, remember?” she clapped in her hands as if she just learnt the news, despite her asking this question over five times since she woke up. You forgave her because she was at the age where she would find everything fascinating and barely pay attention to what you said. You chuckled and shook your head with a smile as her curious eyes observed the elevator, touching the mirror and gasping at the coldness of it under her palm. It was almost guaranteed that she didn’t listen and will ask again in a couple of minutes.

“Where are we going?” here we go again, her tiny voice reaching your ear above the roaring motor of the bus. She grabbed your leg as you were typing something on your phone with one hand, the other gripping the metallic bar as tight as possible as your daughter was not the most balanced child.

“Baby, I’ve told you many times that we are going to see Kevin and Jinseon at the coffee shop because Mommy and Uncle Kevin have to do something for work,” you looked at her with stern eyes, something you always did when she wasn’t paying attention.

“But why aren’t we going to their house? It’s so big!” she argued, and the bus doors opened, quickly sliding your phone in your back pocket and jumped out of the bus with your daughter in your arms.

“Uncle Kevin wants to change the interior of the house, so people work there, and it’s not safe for them and us to meet there. But I promise that we’ll go back there soon!”

“I won’t be able to draw with Jinseon?” you shook your head from side to side, and your daughter pouted, nuzzling her face in your neck.

“Not at his house, but maybe he brought a colouring book like yours today!” you exclaimed, and her mood lifted instantly, getting all giddy and happy to share her passion with her best friend.

Pushing the door of the coffee shop, you were instantly met with a reassuring warmth and the good smell of coffee, placing your daughter back on the ground as you lined up to order. The place was quite busy, but you were right before the time people were fighting to get a table.

“Mommy, this table!” she asked and pointed her little finger towards a table near the window, her little topknot moving on her head as she looked up at you.

“Good choice, baby,” you said, and she grabbed your hand again, noticing her gaze shifting to something scared. You frowned as she went to stand in front of you, her hands gripping your thighs as she stared up at you.

You asked for your usual order and a strawberry smoothie for your daughter, who happily giggled when she saw the sliced fruit inside of her transparent cup. She laughed and ran to the table you had agreed on occupying, her little hands pressed on the seat as she hoisted herself alone on it.

A few minutes after giving your daughter her pens and colouring books, your phone rang in your back pocket, getting you out of your bubble of focus as you stopped typing.

“Hello?” you said, and your best friend’s voice reached your ear.

“Hi Y/N, I’m really sorry to warn you only now, but I won’t be able to make it with Jinseon.” A wave of disappointment flooded your heart, but you didn’t raise it.

“Oh my. Did something happen?” you asked as your daughter was too busy colouring a monkey pink to even hear what you were talking about.

“Thankfully no, I uhm… I forgot that my in-laws invited us to a five-star restaurant today,” he said, and you bitterly chuckled, feeling sorry for him as you knew the exhausting relationship he had with them.

“Sounds fun,” you sarcastically said as you heard him sigh on the other side of the phone, “don’t worry, we can always meet up another time.”

“Won’t Chunae be disappointed?” Kevin asked, and you emitted a laugh, quickly looking to the side as someone at the table next to yours drew a chair.

“I’ll handle her, don’t worry about it. Have fun with your most favourite people in the world, then!” you sarcastically said, and you heard him sigh.

“Thanks, but I’d rather die than witnessing my mother-in-law brag again about the new diamond necklace she bought and lie on how she’s not close to bankrupting,” you giggled and winked at your daughter, amused by the situation. That was what you got to have your stepson handling the family accounts and his best friend as an assistant counsellor. You both could see her lie to everyone, and it was funny.

“Try to make her understand that you know she’s lying in front of everyone else and see how she reacts,” you suggested and heard him gasp at your words.

“I beg you Y/N, can you please schedule us an appointment so I can ruin her?”

“Of course,” you opened another tab on your computer, typing and clicking on a few things to finally get to your best friend’s schedule.

“You can tell her that she can come on Friday at 1 pm to discuss about her financial state. I just sent her an email,” you announced, and Kevin sighed, imagining him biting his lower lip and clutch his fist in satisfaction.

“You’re the best. I gotta go now,” you took a sip of your drink and wished him good luck before hanging up.

“M-Mommy?” you heard your daughter whisper, barely making out her words as the coffee shop music and the hustling was quite loud. You smiled, but it immediately vanished as you saw her scared state, pen lingering on the pages of her colouring book. Her eyes were drawn to the table next to yours, her mouth trembling from time to time, close to crying.

Following her gaze, you noticed a man around your age and immediately understood your daughter’s fear as you took in the sight. The man was scrolling on his phone, his white t-shirt hugging his broad shoulders and slender torso perfectly. His biceps flexed each time he swiped up his finger on the screen or took a sip of coffee, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. You weren’t going to lie that he was super handsome, but something else couldn’t go unnoticed in your eyes.

His tattoos.

He was covered in them. Your eyes could scarcely spot some natural, intact skin. Arms, forearms, chest and neck, only his face remained untouched. His jet-black hair was as dark as his eyes, yet they still held something soft and human in them. A thin nose with plumped, pinkish lips, it would have been almost impossible for you to guess that he had tattoos all over his body if you only saw his face.

You found him quite attractive to say the least, but it was quite the opposite for your daughter. She found tattoos terrifying, only accepting the small, hidden ones Kevin had. Her eyes welled up with tears, and you gently called her name, gesturing her to come closer. She jumped out of her seat, carefully going around the table from the opposite side where the man was sitting and walked towards you.

“Baby, those are just tattoos. You see what you draw and colour in your books with Jinseon? This man decided to do it on his skin because he likes drawings too!” you explained gently as your daughter couldn’t tear her gaze off the man.

“But it’s scary,” she mumbled, and you shook your head, gently cradling her cheek.

“Do you find the drawings on Uncle Kevin’s skin scary?” you asked, and she disagreed, finally looking up at you.

“It’s the same for him. Like Uncle Kevin, he decided to get them on his skin because he likes the shapes and colours. Do you understand?” you smiled as she wiped her teary eyes, nodding, trying to look confident. But you knew your daughter, she was still scared.

“Do you want to switch seats with Mommy?”

“No,” she said in a frail voice, and you kissed her cheek while rubbing her back. It was always the same. Bizarrely, when she feared something, she wanted to stay close to it as if she was determined of getting over her irrational fear.

Chunae walked back on her seat and resumed colouring, her gaze looking to her left from time to time. You smiled and stared at your computer again, getting distracted by the man as well, but not for the same reasons as your daughter.

“You’re a mother Y/N, don’t let those stupid thoughts get inside your head,” you closed your eyes and mentally slapped yourself, heavily sighing as you answered some emails, focusing back on your work.

You were so concentrated on your tasks that you didn’t even notice what was happening in front of you. Chunae became terrified as the man caught her staring, his eyes transforming into crescent moons when he softly waved at her. Her eyes widened and started colouring faster, her nose almost touching the paper as if she wanted everything around her to disappear. It happened once, twice, but she remembered what you always told her; never talk to strangers. So when the young man whispered a small ‘hi!’ to her, she panicked and called for you.

“Mommy!” she got you out of your work bubble, and you stared at her from above your computer screen, fingers still typing on the computer. Your hands stopped when you noticed her little forefinger pointing at the man, whose chocolate eyes were quick to shift to yours.

Shit, he was really handsome.

“What is it, sweetpea?” you asked and lowered your computer screen. “I’m sorry for her behaviour, she's not usually like that,” you said, grabbing her hand as you sent an apologetic smile to the man.

He shook his head with a smile. “Don’t worry about it, I get it. She’s still quite young,” you were sized by a shiver when two sets of white, perfectly aligned teeth almost blinded you as his mouth stretched into a bigger smile.

“I’m five!” she said, pouting, crossing her arms on her chest, staring at the table with furrowed brows.

The young man’s eyes widened, and pursed his lips, trying to hold back a smile as he acknowledged her stubbornness. You puffed and rolled your eyes at her behaviour, noticing with a smirk that she was still glancing at his tattoos.

“What’s your name?” he asked after looking at you, asking for permission. Your daughter’s unsure eyes stared at you, and you nodded, allowing her to talk to him.

“Ch-Chunae,” she answered, and his mouth transformed into a surprised ‘o’, letting out a small gasp.

“That’s a very pretty name, I’m Juyeon,” he said, and your daughter blushed, a veil of shyness appearing in her eyes as he held out his hand for her to shake it. You smiled as he indirectly complimented you for choosing her name, his gaze softening as she timidly grabbed his hand. Her eyes couldn’t help but scrutinise his tattooed hand with attention, making the man smile fondly and brightly.

“I have drawings all over my arms, do you want to see them?” he asked, keeping a great eye on you to see any sign of reluctance. Or maybe it was for something else, but you didn’t need to know about this.

“But they’re scary,” she said, and Juyeon whole-heartedly laughed, drawing the sleeve of his t-shirt to the top of his shoulder.

“Look at this one,” he said as he twisted his biceps, noticing a dragon spitting fire and your daughter’s eyes widened. He then turned his forearm to show her a dolphin near the crook of his elbow, smiling as he watched your daughter’s expression change as she saw all his tattoos on his arms. She was now mesmerised by the tattoos, the gentle, deep voice of the man explaining to her as she stared at his inked arms.

“Do you wanna colour this one?” he asked, finger showing the rose on the back of his hand.

“Really?” Chunae was surprised by his question, and Juyeon smiled at you, your daughter already grabbing her red pen.

“You really don’t have to,” you embarrassingly said, but the man shook his head, resting his large hand in front of your daughter, who pushed all her belongings to the side.

“If that can keep her quiet while you work, I don’t mind,” he stated, and you raised your eyebrows, a grateful smile drawn on your face.

Colouring the red rose ended up inking the poor man’s entire arm, who had a lot of patience and discipline when it came to children. Chunae went over the line with her pen a few times, only to have him reassure and praise her to continue when she started feeling guilty.

“Oh no!” she gasped as her hand clumsily went over the scales of the snake circling his forearm, Juyeon chuckling before wetting his thumb to erase the misdrawn ink. “It’s okay, it’s okay, keep going,” he said in a gentle tone, smiling at your daughter as she was looking for reassurance.

You had told him a few times that he didn’t have to stay the entire day only here to occupy your daughter, but he genuinely was alright with that. He looked almost happy to talk with you and your daughter since you had stopped working a few moments ago to exchange a few words of politeness with him before heading home.

“Chunae, finish your smoothie before we go home,” you said, and she obeyed, nodding as she placed her pen down and started sipping on her drink.

“I’m really sorry for this,” you gestured to his arms, but he was quick to cut you.

“Ma’am, it's okay, please stop apologising, I gave my agreement for her to do this. You seem like busy parents with your husband, I’m glad I could help,” he smiled, and you frowned.

“H-Husband?” you asked and Juyeon’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“O-oh? Wasn’t it your husband on the phone?” you shook your head at his words, only to have him purse his lips in utter embarrassment. “Sorry for assuming,” he said, the tip of his ears turning pink just like his cheeks.

“It’s okay, it was my best friend. I’m actually a single mom,” you explained, and he nodded, his features expressing admiration.

“Wow, you must be super strong then,” he said, and you blinked a few times, discerning something sad appearing in his eyes as he stared at your daughter. It was inappropriate and way too intrusive to ask him about his reaction, so you just offered him a grateful smile.

“I have to admit that it’s not always easy being alone in this, but with a bit of discipline and organisation, you can manage to make it work!” you tried to enlighten the mood, and Juyeon laughed along, but his smile had lost its splendour.

He cleared his throat, and you stood up, your daughter being finally done with her smoothie. You helped her place her pens in the pouch before clearing your belongings off the table, Juyeon standing up as well.

“Will I get to colour your tattoos again?” Chunae asked, and you looked at her sternly, but Juyeon laughed and smiled, gently ruffling her hair.

“This only depends on if your Mommy wants to see me again,” Juyeon crouched down to her level and made sure to get her hair out of the way before zipping her light jacket up to the chin.

You were taken aback by his answer, looking at him in the eyes. Vaguely smiling, he stood back up and stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets, thumbs playing with the belt loops as he waited for your answer. You breathed in heavily as you stared around you but in his eyes, trying to find an excuse.

“I mean… why not?” you eventually said, and his face brightened, his ears going pink at your answer. You grabbed your daughter’s hand as she was about to run to Juyeon and walked to the exit of the coffee shop, not believing what you’ve just agreed to.

Meeting a man? After your ex? With all the work and busy life that you had? Were you crazy?

Juyeon held out the door for you, and you thanked him, your daughter now almost best friend with the man she feared when he appeared. You sighed and replaced your bag on your shoulder, offering a soft smile to the man.

“Is it okay if we wait a bit before all of... this? I have the deadline of a big project that is coming up next week and it has a considerable influence on the future of my career, I really don’t want to mess it up,” you explained, and Juyeon nodded, his hand going to your bag to shove your key ring back inside since it was falling out.

“It’s more than okay, I’ll wait as long as it takes you to finish this and be ready to meet up with me,” he said, and your mouth fell open, surprised by his attitude. The last man you dated and loved unconditionally dropped the family he had created with you for a career abroad and another woman, his words and behaviour offering warmth to your broken, lonely heart.

You got your phone out and took Juyeon’s number, a relieved smile painted on your face. Maybe not all the men were as selfish and nasty as your ex.

“Call me if you need anything. It can be help, someone to look after her, comfort. Whatever you need, I’ll try to help you out as much as I can,” he said and rested a hand on your shoulder, gently rubbing it.

“Thank you,” you said, and he nodded with a smile.

“Good luck with everything,” you beamed and waved at him, your daughter imitating you as you started walking to the bus stop, hailing the vehicle as it was approaching.

Juyeon walked in the opposite way to the small parking lot in front of the coffee shop, his leg swinging over his motorcycle. He sat there for a minute, watching you get on the bus before the doors closing behind you, holding his helmet in hand. You were a busy, ambitious woman, you had set your priorities high, and you were not going to change them for a man. He was a bit scared of committing to a relationship with a busy woman and a child, yet that didn’t prevent him from wanting to get to know you and finding you attractive. He loved it even if he was a bit anxious about getting hurt, as it happened in his past way too many times to his likings.

His gloved hand moved side to side as the bus drove past him, your daughter on your hip as you both waved at him. The smile you had plastered on your face reassured him, hoping that you would give his heart a break and not break it.

[pingutats]

be this close, forever and ever

you and harry have been together for a while. your nights at home are quiet and comfortable, and, well, you’re both just so in love.

warnings: sexual content (soft giggly sex), mostly fluff

word count: 2.5k

.                               .                           .                               .                           .

Living with Harry, the two of you start to fall into the same rhythm. It’s not easy with his schedule as chaotic as it often is and your lives so profoundly different, but the nights when he’s home are the quiet sanctuary you need from all of those stresses. His little rituals seep into your own. The evenings are for being together, enjoying each other’s company without distraction or pressure. It’s just you and him, and the routine you’ve constructed so delicately together.

It starts with a face mask. Just because he’s so famous, he receives packages from different companies hoping for endorsements. He doesn’t really do those but he keeps the boxes anyway and most nights the two of you pick out one to try. He reads through the ingredients while you wait for the prescribed fifteen minutes to pass: pumpkin extract, baobab oil, a white flower extract.

“Which white flower?” Harry asks, looking up at you. 

His mask is wrinkled between his brows where he’s frowning and you reach up to smooth it out again, your hands coming away sticky. You wipe them on his sweatpants, which just makes him frown again. “Dunno,” you say, “but it must be a pretty powerful flower if it—” you snatch the packet out of his hand “—de-puffs, hydrates, and brightens our skin.” You scan the printed text for a moment. “I think this one’s supposed to be used in the morning.”

“Oh, fuck. The moon’s out. Was this all for nothing?”

After peeling off the masks carefully in the bathroom, you coo over each other’s soft skin ridiculously and move back into the living room for the next unspoken event of your night. Harry is borderline religious about meditating, somehow possessing the discipline to do it for twenty minutes day and night. You aren’t like him, but sometimes you join in. It is good for you, after all.

The two of you sit on the carpet, legs crossed and backs straight, side by side and within arms reach. The itch to reach out and touch him or lean over to put your head on his shoulder is strong, but you know it annoys him when you do that. He is so serious about it — “It doesn’t work if you keep poking me, the point is to be completely focused” — and even if you’ve never reached his fanaticism about the practise, you respect it so you keep your distance. Two minutes in, though, you’re starting to get bored. He can meditate for ages: twenty minutes is his standard, and you simply don’t have it in you to sit still for that long. Quietly, so as not to disturb him, you uncross your legs and stand up, padding across the soft carpet into the kitchen to turn on the kettle.

When the soft alarm he’s set on his phone rings and brings him back to reality, he blinks open his eyes to see you in front of him, holding two steaming mugs. It’s the tea he buys especially to have before bed, something a friend recommended to relax him. You aren’t sure if it really does anything, but it tastes good so you always have a cup too. When you think about it, you do almost always have a good sleep the nights that you drink it. Those nights are the ones you’re sleeping with Harry, though, so maybe it isn’t the tea. You set the mugs on the table nearby. 

“Thank you, love,” he says softly. He reaches to take hold of your hand and then suddenly drags you down to the floor, a tangle of limbs as you collapse on top of him. 

You giggle and then shriek as his fingers find the ticklish spot along your ribs. “Harry! Get off!”

His attack ceases very quickly when you accidentally elbow him in the stomach in your attempts to escape.

“Sorry, H.”

“’S alright. Probably deserved it.”

“You did.”

But he’s mostly quiet in the evenings — doesn’t like to talk too much as he decompresses from the busy-ness of his days, so he shows his affection more through his actions. As the two of you sip your tea (still on the floor, because with the plushy carpet he has it’s just as comfortable down here as on the couch) he reaches out to drum his fingers over your knee while he tries to remember all the things he needs to do tomorrow. He’s always written himself to-do lists and he got you hooked on them too. You were sceptical at first, but they do make life easier. The little thrill of ticking off boxes in your black notebook with your initials monogrammed on the bottom right corner (Harry’s gift) is a bonus. He’s less driven by those superficial rewards, so he chooses to keep his on his laptop, which is rose gold. His hand leaves you only to type the next line of his to-do list, then he’s back to tracing patterns over the fabric of your borrowed sweatpants. He emails the list to himself when he’s finished. You’ve always found that funny, and you tease him for being grandpa-ish, but it’s just another one of his eccentricities that makes him more endearing.

You probably wear his clothes just as much as you wear your own. He loves seeing you in his stuff. He’s practically throwing t-shirts at you as soon as you walk into the house. He’ll take your stuff, too, sometimes. Dating Harry comes with an unspoken agreement to merge your wardrobes. There are a couple of pieces — a hoodie or two, sweatpants that are too big for either of you, a pair of extremely fluffy socks — that have been passed between you for so long that you can barely remember who owned them first. The sweatpants you’re wearing right now (paired with just a sports bra) are his. The old band tee he has on is yours.

He carries the empty mugs back to the kitchen and loads them into the dishwasher while you finish the last of your planning. There’s no discussion around it, just like no one asked you to make the tea in the first place. The two of you just now how to work together now, with all the times you’ve practised this routine. Sometimes it’s him who makes the tea, sometimes you finish your list first, but you never really have to talk. Harry usually picks out an album to play in the background over these moments, and that’s the only thing you need to listen to. It’s good. It makes you feel more connected to him, like you understand each other on a deeper level than just being able to talk.  You know Harry like the back of your hand. He knows you almost as well as you know yourself. It’s a quiet kind of euphoria, to love and be loved back. You don’t need the fanfares and the grandiose displays. You just need each other.

Later, you pull faces at each other in the mirror while you brush your teeth, bumping hips as you giggle around your toothbrushes. He’s finished in the bathroom before you are, so he lies in bed  in just his boxers and watches you through the open doorway while you do your last couple of skincare and hair rituals. Satisfied, you switch the bathroom light off and enter the bedroom that you share, decorated with framed artworks you both chose, a bedspread that you picked out together. You quickly change into just a long loose shirt, then collapse into bed with him and crawl under the covers, his greedy arms pulling you to nestle into his side while he presses a kiss to your forehead. He likes to read before he sleeps, but you aren’t in the mood for that. You shuffle down until your head is at his chest and you throw your arm and leg over him, letting him rest his paperback against your bare thigh while he reads with you wrapped around him.

After a couple of minutes of just the sound of pages turning and your soft breaths, you start to sponge kisses over his bare chest. He ignores you at first, but you hear his breathing stutter as you move up to his collarbone.

“Let me just finish this chapter,” he murmurs. “Just a couple pages left.” His eyes don’t leave the page, but he gropes around until he finds your hand and brings your fingers to his mouth, kissing them before he lets your intertwined hands drop.

You don’t reply. You pull your hand out of his loose grasp and run your fingertips up the subtly defined lines of his abs, softened by the way he’s sitting. You trace the wings of the butterfly tattooed over his stomach, then draw a constellation between his four nipples — he chuckles and pulls your hand away, holding it tighter this time.

“Baby,” he says, a little firmer this time.

You kiss his shoulder again.

He sighs, closing the book (he doesn’t tear his eyes away from the page until it’s fully closed and you almost feel bad for distracting him until —

He throws the book on the nightstand and reaches over your body to plant his hand on the mattress, pushing himself up so he’s hovering above you. “You’re a pest,” he says, leaning down to nudge his nose against yours. 

You giggle and bite your lip, wrapping one leg around his hip and pulling him closer to you. “Kiss me?”

He obliges, pressing his lips against yours. “That all you wanted?” His tone is slightly teasing. He’s always liked to see you squirm.

You shake your head, wrapping your other leg around him. You can feel the bulge underneath his boxers against your crotch and it sets a fire in your core. You thread a hand into his hair and pull him down to kiss him again, less chastely this time. You roll your hips against him, just slightly, and smile against his kiss when you feel him twitch.

He breaks away from the kiss and smears his lips over your cheekbone to your ear. “Tell me, angel, tell me what you want you want and I’ll give it to you,” he whispers.

You barely contain a whimper at how deep his voice has gotten. “Fuck me,” you say, gasping as he starts to place hot openmouthed kisses down your neck. When you first slept together, you were too embarrassed to ask him so openly. You don’t get embarrassed around him anymore. “Harry, please fuck me.”

He pulls back suddenly, smiling down at you. “See? All you had to do was ask nicely.”

“Harry!”

He’s laughing as he pulls his boxers down to free his cock, but his giggles fade into a low moan as he takes hold of himself and strokes a couple times. “Ready for me, baby?”

“Yeah.”

He pushes into you with one fluid motion, making your eyes roll back. He fills you so perfectly. Every single time he’s in you is better than the last, it never gets old — there’s no feeling that’s as good as how he feels. Sometimes it’s explosive, sometimes he’s brutal in how he fucks you, or passionate and needy, or the both of you get caught up in the roles you make up to play, but you treasure the times like this. The times where he’s on top of you, face-to-face, alternating between kisses and whispers and little giggles — this is where you feel the most love for Harry.

He takes his time, in no hurry to end this moment. The pace he sets is slow but he reaches deep into you on each thrust, his breath coming out increasingly ragged every time he buries himself to the hilt. You have your hands in his hair and splayed across his back — he has one clutching the pillow beside your head to hold himself up, the other roaming over your chest. It’s like he can’t decide what he wants to do with his mouth: he’ll kiss your lips, then along your jaw, down your neck, then back up to your ear where he whispers all the sweet little nothings he can think of.

“So pretty, baby, love you so much, taking me so well, always my good girl, my best girl, my girl, always feel so good…” He chants it like a prayer, his words taking on a firmer tone each time he thrusts in, starting to pick up the pace a bit. “Touch yourself for me, darling, want to see you cum underneath me.”

You moan and reach down between your legs, rubbing little circles around your clit while he starts to fuck you at a faster pace. “Feels so good, Harry,” you say, your words choked slightly by the intensity of what you’re feeling right now.

“I know it does,” he replies, kissing you again, swallowing your moans. That edge of cockiness, the way he knows how to take care of you, when you just need his mouth on you and he can’t keep off you — you love all these little traits. You love him. And he loves you. That’s maybe the feeling to triumph over all the others.

“I’m close, I’m close,” you chant, the hand on his back digging fingernail marks into his skin as the warm feeling in your core rises, threatening to explode.

He thrusts into you faster, his rhythm growing slightly sloppy. “Yeah? Let go for me, baby, let go, I’m right behind you.”

You cum, legs shaking around him and brows pinched as you stare up at him, while he watches you cum undone with an intensity behind his gaze that wasn’t there before. You say his name, over and over, trying to put all you want to say into just that one word. You hope it’s enough. You think it is. He gets you.

“I’m gonna cum,” he says, words cut off by a pant, as you feel the aftershocks of your own orgasm and the growing over-sensitivity. “You feel so good, baby, gonna cum so hard…”

You feel him spill into you as he cries out, his body collapsing over yours so his entire body is pressed against yours. You thread your fingers through his hair until he starts to come down from his high and rolls off you, his cock slipping out and you hiss at the slight friction.

“God…” he murmurs into the air. “That was so good.”

You giggle, twisting around and propping your head up with your hand so you can look down at him. “You say that every time.”

“It’s good every fucking time,” he says, a smile spreading across his face.

You poke his dimple and he tries to catch your finger with his mouth, biting the air playfully, but you pull it away. “You’re such a weirdo.”

He pouts for a second, but then his features soften. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You drop your head back down to the pillow, watching him stretch his arm out to turn off his bedside lamp. After a couple of swats at the switch, he finally manages it, and brings the same arm back over to drape over your body. It’s totally dark now. “Love you so much,” he tells you, kisses your forehead.

“Love you more. Goodnight, H. Sweet dreams.”

“Night, angel. Sleep well.”

.                               .                           .                               .                           .

hope you enjoyed -- let me know if u did, i like reading ur replies/tags !! i rlly loved writing this fic, it’s just so domestic and sweet and happy. the meditating and the to-do list (including the emailing !! ) is from the real harry. 

btw !! my ask box is open for requests & general chatter, so come say hi :D

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

calculated iii, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: You wanted to say that you were able to control yourself around him and not to have wild sex at school. But this is Jeon Jungkook we’re talking about. And what Jungkook wants, Jungkook gets. You wore that pencil skirt for a reason, after all.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; intense smut (fem reader, semi-public sex, dirty talk, nipple play, choking, m-receiving oral, gagging, pussy spanking, fingering, penetrative sex); fluff; non-idol!AU - university!AU; dom!Jungkook x sub!noona!reader, ft Jimin once again, lol

–

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv

-

Career Week was somewhat of a nightmare.

So much running around, prepping tables, setting up presentations, helping the guests with their computers before their seminars, and you had to be dressed professionally too. Not just ‘nice’ clothes, but white dress shirt, slim black tie, tailored black vest, and matching fitted black slacks. It had to be monotone, it had to be hyper professional, and you had to wear heels.

Why had you agreed to this again?

Oh, yes, Kim Namjoon on his knees begging for help because he was overworked and they needed volunteers. And you, being far too responsible, accepted.

Not only were you also overworked, but Jeon Jungkook was staring at you across the auditorium.

In all-black – leather jacket, high-necked shirt, slim-fit jeans. Sharp jawline, tanned high cheekbones, piercing dark brown eyes, his black hair pushed back with a few strands on his forehead, revealing his clean undercut.

And he was smirking at you.

You highly doubted he was here to investigate prospective career paths. Actually, you were a hundred-and-ten percent positive that that was not the reason he was here and the soreness between your inner thighs proved it. You were willing to bet Park Jimin’s right nutsack.

Yeah, sorry Jimin, but you needed all your body parts.

For one reason, really, and that reason was staring you right now.

Who was going to hire him when he was dressed like that anyway? You certainly wouldn’t. Mostly because it was distracting. No one could work with Jeon Jungkook looking like that. You couldn’t, anyway. Well, maybe if his work was wrecking your–

Get back to your damn task, you scolded yourself.

You were setting up chairs for the cardiologist that was arriving soon. All the doctors always had tons of students listening, so the administration instructed you to pack as many seats that could be crammed into the space without causing a fire hazard. You unfolded the metal chairs, arranging them neatly, already knowing they would be an incomprehensible mess when the students left and that you would be the one cleaning up after them.

Sigh.

Come to think of it, it was all Park Jimin’s fault that you were being violently undressed by Jungkook’s eyes right now. If he had kept his trap shut and let you live in blissful ignorance, maybe you wouldn’t be trying to hide your wincing every time you bent over. You snuck a glance at Jungkook.

He cocked an eyebrow, highly amused.

Never mind, you probably still would have been accosted at Calculus I office hours, except instead of the door being closed and locked and having Jimin’s warning texts, you two probably would have been caught and expelled.

You grumbled and slid a chair into place, taking back your former thoughts and thanking Jimin in your mind. He wasn’t even here to witness your inner struggle.

Jimin probably would have found it funny.

You went back to your chairs, not addressing Jeon Jungkook’s presence anymore because if you looked at him again, you probably would have abandoned your post. And he knew it.

-

The next day, you already knew Jungkook would show up again. Mostly because he texted you a winking face of a semicolon and parenthesis, to which you didn’t respond, because you would probably get roped into phone sex in under twenty seconds, and you had to help this extremely riveting lawyer set up his laptop for the projector.

As in, you were ready to tape his mouth shut as he blabbed on and on about his work and how important it was to society, which it was, because defense attorneys were very important, but this guy’s laptop was a fucking hot mess of icons all over his desktop. This was a personal pet peeve of yours, as you liked to be neat and organized, with everything clearly labeled with dates. You didn’t care about most people’s personal habits, but it was annoying when you were trying to assist and the owner of said laptop was not shutting up and demanding noises of affirmation that you were listening.

If it wasn’t Jungkook demanding you to swallow his cock, you honestly couldn’t give a single shit–

You finally got his PowerPoint working and had him scroll through the slides to make sure it was the correct one. He thanked you and you realized the older man was looking at you up and down, the same way Jungkook usually did, except in this case you were not even remotely interested.

Guess everyone had the right to get a good look before they die.

You were wearing a white chiffon blouse with a black silk neck scarf, with a tight knee-length black pencil skirt, sheer tights and sleek black heels. You knew how good your ass looked in this skirt and you had worn it for a specific purpose.

“We will be letting the students in five minutes early to get settled,” you stated briskly, cutting the older man from his daydreams. “You will have forty-five minutes for your presentation, and then we’ll have a fifteen-minute question session, led by my associate, Kim Namjoon here.”

As if on cue, Namjoon appeared, cheerful smile with cute dimples, handing the lawyer a mic.

“Let’s test the microphone and the backup to make sure you don’t have any hiccups,” Namjoon instructed merrily, instantly captivating the man’s attention and diverting it from you.

You mouthed a ‘thank you’ behind the man’s back and Namjoon gave you the tiniest of nods as you excused yourself. Hmph. You knew people would notice – you were wearing makeup for once and would be around students and professionals all day, after all – but to be so shameless and gawk like that was annoying. Plus, the guy probably had a wife and kids.

You made your way to the bathroom to check your appearance. Maybe your makeup was a bit off or something. You had Jimin check you over this morning. Surprisingly, he knew a lot about cosmetics and how to look good in all lighting. Must be a dance major thing.

Ah, the door to the women’s bathroom. You hiked your skirt up a bit do you could use your damn knees to walk, because they had been suffocating for the past two hours–

Long fingers suddenly gripped your upper arm and yanked you around the corner, slamming you into a muscular body and black biker jacket. You nearly stumbled in your heels, but a second hand came to practically lift you off the floor and shove you into the wall.

“Good afternoon, noona.”

A clear, silvery voice.

You couldn’t possibly guess who it was.

“Why, fancy seeing you here, Jung–”

You were abruptly cut off by his lips crashing into yours, one hand grabbing the back of your head and disturbing your perfect bun. You whimpered, feeling him shove you into the wall again, your shoulder blades hitting the painted brick. His tongue slid into your mouth, exhaling into your throat and forcing you swallow his breath. Your hands clutched your skirt, moaning as his hard body pressed yours against the wall.

Jungkook drew back, panting a little. Looking so handsome with his slightly slicked-back hair, black strands around his right eye, chiseled jawline, silver hoops glinting in the hall light. He arched a sculpted eyebrow at you, smirking. His pink lips had a little red on them from kissing you.

“Now, you know you can’t be looking so delicious and not expect me to want to eat you up,” he purred, licking your lips. Your breathing hitched at the touch, unlocking your death grip on your skirt.

“What are you talking about?” you answered evenly despite your panties literally turning into Niagara Falls with the way he was looking at you like a carnivore at an all-meat buffet. “I have to dress like this for Career Week. Everyone has to dress professionally.”

Jungkook nodded, not believing a single word coming out of your mouth. His right hand came up, ink black tattoos against tan skin, and reached around to your bun, slowly pulling the hairpins out. Your skin tingled at the sensation of your hair gradually unravelling.

“A professional that I would hire to sit on my dick,” he mused.

You raised an eyebrow at him, your hair tumbling around your shoulders. “Subtle.”

Jungkook showed you the removed hairpins, opened his jacket, and tucked them in his inner pocket.

“I wouldn’t work for you anyway,” you added haughtily.

With each passing moment, Jungkook was becoming increasingly amused and aroused. You could tell by the way he was shoving his crotch into your thigh and by how wide his smirk was getting. The slacks he was wearing did nothing to hide his erection and you had a sneaking suspicion that he didn’t care.

“Oh? Why not?”

“I don’t know if I could trust someone younger than me to do a good job.”

He was unbuttoning your chiffon blouse now, humming. “I’m good at many things.” His dark eyes flickered to yours. “I think you would know.”

Your hands grabbed his despite him already having all the visible buttons completely open. Cold air drifted onto your heaving chest and white lace bra.

“Jungkook, we’re in a public place, again,” you hissed, narrowing your eyes at him.

“I don’t recall that being a problem,” he drawled, removing his hands from yours and squeezing your ass. “I’m beginning to think you like it.”

You sucked in a breath as his strong hands kneaded you through your skirt. Your hormones would absolutely let Jungkook rip off your clothes right here and let him fuck you, but the sliver of your brain that had any sense at all reminded you that you had to find a closed space. Jungkook slapped your ass, loudly, the sound echoing across the empty hallway. You nearly moaned, but bit your tongue, glaring at him.

“I have to get back,” you snapped. “And look presentable.”

Jungkook licked his teeth. “Hm. You have an hour before you have to appear to the public eye.”

Who the heck told him that? He smirked slyly at you as he saw your reaction.

“I could drag you to the bathroom–”

“At least give me more class than the woman’s bathroom,” you interrupted.

Jungkook looked annoyed that you had cut him off and also looked like he was going to remind you later. His fingers dug into your hips sharply and you gasped, back pressed flat against the wall. He inhaled a deep breath and began again, voice dangerously low.

“As I was saying,” he continued. “I’m going to take you into this classroom that I stole the key for.”

You frowned as Jungkook hoisted you up swiftly, princess-style, shirt still wide open. Fuck, what was he so strong for? He carried you down the hallway to the classrooms. You tried to close your shirt, but he growled at you, so you rolled your eyes and pushed the sides open, letting your bra-covered tits hang out. He seemed satisfied about this.

“Why would you steal a key?” you muttered as he deftly kicked the door open.

Jungkook slid through the door sideways. “So I could fuck you, of course.”

He dropped you and you had to catch yourself on your heels before you broke an ankle and ate shit. Half the lights turned on. You could hear him locking the door as you smoothed your skirt.

You turned to face him, saying, “You shouldn’t be a thief just because you’re horny, Jungkook.”

Jungkook turned around slowly from the now locked door. You were about to say something else, but your words died in your throat as you witnessed the overwhelming lust in his dark piercing eyes.

“I would be a thief, a murderer, and evade taxes for your body,” he snarled, advancing on you.

You pulled your blouse out of your skirt so he wouldn’t rip it, backing up into the desks. “You’ll get caught with the last one,” you said quietly, already removing your blouse and letting it fall onto a spare seat. “First two are acceptable.”

Jungkook grinned devilishly, licking his pink lips.

“Come here.”

You chewed on your lower lip, staring at his beautiful eyes, finding yourself already walking to him, heels clicking loudly in the empty room, but it didn’t matter, because he was the master now and you were the willing servant. Or slave. 

Take your pick.

He smirked at your obedience, placing his hands on your shoulders, stopping you. His dark orbs lingered down your body, focusing on all his favorite spots, pressing his fingertips into your skin.

“One day,” you said quietly. “We’re going to get in trouble.”

Jungkook’s powerful dark orbs shifted upwards, capturing yours. Time slowed down. You stared into his dark brown eyes, unable to look away, your heart beating in time with his words.

“You’re already in trouble.”

Voice haunting you, teasing smirk on his lips, and perfectly in command.

“From the second you let me have my hands on you.”

You gasped as his nails dug into your skin, scratching down your collarbones, leaving red marks. He snapped the straps of your bra, hard, and you whined, eyes pleading for him to take it off. His palms pressed into the lace cups, squeezing them roughly. Tongue dancing in between his lips as he felt your nipples harden, barely covered by the lace.

“You’re so dirty, noona,” he purred, lowering his palms and pinching your nipples through the thin fabric, smirking at your wanton moan. “Wearing such slutty underwear under these professional clothes.”

You whimpered as he tugged on them. “No one’s going to see them but you, Jungkook.”

He clamped your nipples between his thumbs and knuckles, dragging you to him. You sank your teeth into your lower lip, pussy throbbing as you collided with his firm chest. His breath was scorching hot against your skin, making you shiver.

“What if someone finds out? Some idiot like a perverted old man staring at your ass in this skirt?”

You snorted. “I’ll rip his head off.”

Jungkook snickered, flicking your nipples with your answer. “You wouldn’t let me do it for you?”

Your hips rolled into his, hands on his waist to keep yourself up as he played with you. “I’ll reattach it for you so you can do the same.”

He laughed, almost a little too jovially for the part he was playing, but then he was back, tipping his head close to yours, blowing soft air onto your lips. You frowned, glaring at him for the lack of kiss.

“If possible, you’re even hotter dressed like this,” Jungkook murmured, his forehead against yours. “So prim and proper, even with a cute gag tied around your neck,” he added, playing with the ends of your neck scarf. “You could be a CEO, and I could be the janitor fucking you on your penthouse-floor desk.” He was undoing your scarf now, teasing it apart, making you breathless. “Maybe fuck you against the window so everyone can see how good I make you feel, noona.”

“Give yourself a little more credit than a janitor,” you muttered, stiffening as Jungkook ran his fingertips over your throat, nails grazing your skin.

“True, I would rather be your secretary so I can follow you around and stare at your ass in this skirt,” he chuckled, lacing his fingers around your neck. Thumb under your ear, the other four fingers under your other ear. You made eye contact with him. He looked almost bored, one of his eyebrows raised, but he was watching you, predatory and attentive.

“I know what I’m doing.”

His whisper was so soft that you barely heard it, but the words were there.

His grip tightened around your throat.

You gasped, feeling the blood flow thinning, hazing your mind. Jungkook watched your expression, reaching around with the hand that was holding your scarf, unclasping your lace bra. You could feel it fall down your arms, but your thoughts were rapidly being clouded by lightheadedness and lust, Jungkook smirking at you as he lifted the silk scarf into your vision.

“J… Jungkook…” you choked out.

The mole underneath his lower lip winked at you as he grinned, brushing the silk against your hard, abused nipples, touch so light, and yet it made your whine, wanting more stimulation but unable to ask because you knew he was toying with you.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook taunted. “Not intense enough for my naughty noona?”

He choked you harder and you couldn’t respond, eyes rolling back into your head as black spots danced in your vision, the sensation intensifying but still not enough, not enough, and you shoved your hips into his repeatedly, whimpering, hands clutching his black shirt, nails digging into his abs.

“So needy for me,” he breathed, feathery touches of silk against your nipples. “Are you only mine?”

He leaned forward, loosening his grip a little. The blood violently rushed back into your head and all you could hear Jungkook’s cruel whisper of your name, tearing a moan from your lips, a raspy yes, yes, fuck, Jungkook, I’m only yours.

He chuckled darkly.

Then he forced you to your knees, tits bouncing uncomfortably as you slid on your heels, knees hitting the tile floor. You clutched his clothed legs, panting, brain only half-functioning due to the lack of blood and the relentless teasing. You lifted your head back up to look at him, panting hard.

Jungkook cracked his neck sharply, a harsh pop. “I want to believe you, noona, but you’re dressed so fucking sexy that I can’t.” His dark eyes bore into you, tearing you up, and you were dripping onto your inner thighs. He emphasized his words with a raise of his eyebrow.

“Letting other people fantasize about this body that belongs to me isn’t acceptable.”

His hands reached down, fingers of his right hand playing with the button of his pants, tattoos dancing with his movement. He smirked as you watched him, eyes darting from his face to his hands. Shit, you were nearly drooling with anticipation. You swallowed as he teased the button free.

“You gonna show me that you remember who you belong to?”

You nodded quickly, maybe too quickly, but it was doomed now anyway because Jungkook was lowering the zipper, pushing down his pants and underwear, past his muscular thighs. It was obvious this was getting him off as much as it was getting you off, because he was rock-hard, leaking, tip already a dark red. Jungkook grabbed the back of your head and shoved his hips into your cheek, smearing his pre-cum onto your skin, all the way up to your cheekbone. He hissed, using his hand to press the head against your temple, nearly into your hair.

Fuck, he was so fucking close to your mouth, but he wasn’t letting you have it.

Damnnit.

Your tongue snaked out and softly licked his balls, eyes on his face, watching him tip his head back and moan. You licked more, creeping your head closer, pressing your lips against his hot skin. He was letting you do it, holding his cock out of the way as you wrapped your lips around his balls and sucked, pushing them around with your tongue, pleading noises in your throat, begging him for his cock as you bobbed your head up and down under his hips.

Jungkook’s dark eyes shifted down to you, triumphant grin on his lips.

“You want to swallow my cock, noona?” he teased, smacking it against your face, leaving a string of pre-cum connecting your cheek to his cock. You narrowed your eyes at him, as if to say, no fucking shit, you punk ass bitch, and he chuckled deep in his chest. He looked past your head, down your back.

“Such a nice ass.”

You smacked his leg, aware that he was doing it on purpose to piss you off. He smirked knowingly, placing his palm on your forehead and pushing you off his balls.

“Swallow it all and don’t choke,” Jungkook snarled, shoving his cock into your open mouth.

Your eyes widened at the sudden intrusion, relaxing your throat muscles as Jungkook forcefully pushed into your lips, sighing with satisfaction as he buried himself to the hilt, his strong fingers tangled in your hair.

“Fuck, so good,” he moaned, making his cock throb into the roof of your mouth. You whined, hands on his hips, waiting for him to let you move. “Your throat feels so fucking good, noona. If only they knew how good you are, how perfectly slutty you are for me.” He snickered, releasing his hand, glaring down into your eyes.

“But they’re never going to know, because you’ll never service another cock ever again.”

You whimpered, nails digging into his thighs.

He ticked his chin at you. “Go on, noona. Show me how much you love my cock.”

You began to move, pressing your tongue against the bottom as you slid up and down his length, moaning at his taste. So good. You generated more saliva and ran it all over the head, sucking hard. He inhaled sharply as you teased the sensitive underside, tongue against the opening.

“That’s it,” Jungkook breathed. “Give it to me like you mean it.”

You gripped his thighs and began to bob your head back and forth, ramming the head into the back of your throat and squeezing it before arching your neck so it ran across the roof of your mouth and then back down so it hit your throat again. Was this going to make you hoarse? Probably, but you didn’t a single shit, because Jungkook moaning for you and telling you how good you were was much more important. The pace was slow at first, but you went faster and faster, tighter, your breasts bouncing with every movement, eyes closed to savor his taste and steel your concentration of not gagging because Jungkook was so big, so thick, so perfectly rough, and your tongue could feel him throbbing inside your mouth.

“Fuck,” he growled above you, nearly feral with desire. “Fuck, I’m going to cum down that perfect throat of yours, noona.”

His thighs tensed under your hands and you knew he was close. You increased the intensity, neck straining, already aching with how fast you were going.

“Drink it all and don’t fucking waste it.”

Jungkook grabbed you by your hair and thrusted his hips into your face, moaning lustfully as he shot into your mouth, hot creamy strings into your throat. You swallowed fast to avoid choking, gulping loudly as he gave you more, more, fuck it was so delicious that you gasped, swirling your tongue around his jerking cock and lapping it all up. Whimpering, you wrapped your lips around the head and milked it dry, rubbing your lips against the skin where the head and length connected.

“You’re so fucking good,” Jungkook sighed, running his fingers through your hair, pulling it away from your face. “So messy and dirty. I love it, noona.” He pressed your mouth down his entire length and held you there.

Your name drifted out of his lips, a sweet exhale.

He kept you there. You felt some of your spit drip down your chin and hit your breasts. You flinched at the coldness, still holding onto his hips. Jungkook finally looked down at you, chest heaving, panting. He looked like he wanted to say something. You shot him a questioning look, unable to respond, mouth still full of his cock.

He released your head, untangling his fingers from your hair. You drew your mouth back, rubbing your jaw and throat a little. Jungkook had a strange expression, lips parted, brows furrowed, the muscles in his neck tensed. He seemed a bit spaced out. You tilted your head.

Something felt off.

You stood up with as much grace as you could, knees aching, heels snapping to the tile floor. He still wasn’t looking at you. You backed up, to the desks, finding a study one.

“Jungkook.”

You smacked the wood loudly with your flat palm.

He whipped his head towards you, dark eyes flashing. Perfect. You smirked, placing your hands on your pencil skirt. Sank your fingers in, gripping the fabric. Jungkook’s voracious eyes watched your movement, each hike revealing more and more of your legs. A slow smirk formed on his lips. You yanked your skirt all the way up to your waist, revealing your white lace panties and sheer pantyhose, black fabric bunched around your waist.

Jungkook reached down and pulled his pants up, raising his eyebrows as he walked over, lower lip in between his teeth as he grinned at you.

“That’s a dangerous position to be in, noona,” he purred. “You know I love fucking you on a desk.”

You bounced your ass up onto the table, closing your legs, knees together. Placed your hands on your lap, pushing your tits together. Jungkook licked his lips, the predatory glint back in his eye. You kept your tone stern, with a hint if disapproval.

“Really? Because for a second there, I was beginning to think you lost your nerve.”

The menace in his eyes made your shiver with anticipation. You could tell Jungkook liked it too, your word selection, your tone, your defiance. He shrugged out of his leather jacket, and it fell to the floor with an oppressive thump. You sucked in a tight breath. The shirt was short sleeved, exposing his tattooed right forearm and his equally beautiful tanned left one. Some of his long black hair was falling down, brushing against his right cheekbone.

His eyes were so dark that you felt like they were devouring you.

Jungkook placed his large hands on your knees and vehemently shoved them apart, spreading your legs wide. He gave you a cold, expressionless stare as he placed a hand on your stomach, putting you onto your elbows, hips tipped up towards him. You were embarrassingly wet, juices soaked into your inner thighs, lace panties already molded to your soaked folds, the sheer pantyhose doing nothing to protect you from him and his hungry eyes. His voice was icy, making your pussy throb with need.

“Noona, if you close your legs, I’m going to punish you,” Jungkook warned.

Part of you wanted to know what the punishment was, but the other part of you really wanted to orgasm, so kept your snide remark to yourself and simply nodded.

Jungkook removed his hands from your knees and placed them on your shuddering breasts. Fuck. You hadn’t realized you were so horny until Jungkook touched you. A pained whimper strained in your throat.

The side of his lips curved upwards.

“Does my dirty, slutty noona want to be fucked?” His nails sank down, digging into your skin. “Do you want to be used by me, your tight little pussy stretched out and pleading for more?” Jungkook leaned forward, breathing into your face, growling whisper against your lips. He pinched your nipples and you moaned, wanting to kiss him, but knowing he wasn’t going to let you. He chuckled darkly, seeing your desperation.

“Do you want to be a slave for Jungkookie’s cock, noona?”

Fuuuuuuuck.

Your heart was beating so fast that your breathing was coming out in little gasps as he twisted your nipples harshly, rubbing the tips with his thumb. Your legs shook, threatening to close because the lack of friction was killing you.

“Y-yes, Jungkook, fuck yes.”

He yanked on your nipples and slapped them, making you hiss with pain, flinching as the sting shot up your chest. Jungkook reached into his back pocket and produced the silk neck scarf.

“Keep quiet for me noona or everyone will know how much of a slut you are for me.”

And then he shoved your own scarf into your parted lips, gagging you. Not a second too soon, because, without warning, Jungkook immediately spanked your barely clothed clit. You yelped around the silk, thighs quivering. He gripped one of your thighs, digging his nails into it, tearing the sheer pantyhose a little.

“Don’t move and take it,” he snarled.

Your back arched as Jungkook began to slap your pussy, hard, unforgiving, loud, and making you wetter and wetter, so much so his hand was slipping a little with each smack. You screamed around the scarf, hips trembling as they rose to meet each hit, flaring pain in between your thighs but so, so good. He clenched his jaw, dark eyes on your quickly reddening pussy lips that were sucking your panties deeper and deeper into your slit.

“Fuck,” he growled. “Fuck, you’re so hot and so fucking perfect for me.”

He removed his hand from your thigh and ripped the center seam of your pantyhose apart.

You started, eyes widening as you watched him tear through it, yelling at him through the scarf. You still needed to wear those! The small tears were one thing, but a full-on giant rip at the crotch was not going to be comfortable to wear for the rest of the day.

Jungkook smirked, raising a hand to his ear. “What’s that? Can’t hear you.”

You glared at him and was about to remove the scarf from your mouth to scold him, but his smirk turned into a roguish grin.

“Hm? Slap you harder and abuse your clit?”

You paled.

“My pleasure.”

You threw you head back as Jungkook mercilessly spanked your now only lace-covered clit, impossibly fast, towering over you and hooking his arm under your back, dragging you to him, arching your spine more, more, so your tits were straight up, bouncing right in his face as he changed from smacking your clit to rubbing it just as fast, rougher, so intense you were hoarsely wailing into the gag.

All of a sudden, your orgasm violently rammed into you, pleasure racking your entire body, amplified by stinging pain. Your pussy clenched around nothing, wetly squelching as Jungkook breathed hotly down on your nipples, still rubbing you through your orgasm, not letting up. You shook your head furiously, trying to tell him it was too much, that you were too sensitive, but you didn’t lift your hands to stop him, only spreading your fingers against the table, palms flat as your hips raised to his fingers.

You felt his hair brush against your nipples as he licked your cleavage, smirking up at your face.

“One more and then I’ll fuck you the way I want to, noona.”

Your legs were losing feeling from how hard you were locking them in place as you felt Jungkook pry your lace panties out of your pussy, shoving them to one side. Oh shit. You moaned as you felt him shove two fingers into you, eyes squeezing shut as he added a third, scissoring them as he smiled cruelly at you, eagerly watching your reaction.

“Such a greedy pussy, sucking in my fingers like this,” Jungkook drawled, your walls clenching around them, feeling every callus and every joint, all the way to his knuckles. “All mine, my beautiful, slutty noona.”

You would have asked Jungkook what the time was if your brain could still function, but your brain timed itself out, because Jungkook was thrusting his fingers into you now, filling you up, and feeding your need and desperation, assaulting your pussy with pleasure. The pain of your stinging, puffy lips rubbing against his hand added to the ecstasy, heightening it, your moaning now unintelligible behind the silk scarf that was saturated with your saliva. The sound was obscene, sloppy smacking sounds of your drenched hole getting pounded into the desk.

You threw your head back and choked out his name around the makeshift gag, throbbing pussy clamping down on his fingers. Thick, viscous liquid gushed out onto his palm, the back of his hand, dripping down to his wrist. It was so intense that your entire body jerked up into Jungkook’s face, hitting him with your tits.

If Jungkook was mad about it, he didn’t show it. He wrenched his slick fingers out and you whined, watching him with glazed eyes as licked them off, ferally growling at your taste. He released your back from his arm and you slid down, laying against the desk, panting.

“You taste extra delicious today, noona,” he chuckled. “Candy always tastes better in cute packaging.”

You barely had time to register that Jungkook had just compared you to a fucking convenience store snack before he yanked down his pants again, whipping out a foil packet and ripping it open. Less than a second and the condom was on, and then Jungkook shoved his cock into you, a startled gasp dying in your very over-used throat.

Jungkook moaned your name above you, softly and lustfully, pulling your hips closer to him so he was all the way inside you. You clenched around his length and he sighed, small smirk on his pink lips, eyelids fluttering.

“You’re going to kill me one day with how perfectly tight you are for me,” he mumbled.

Your eyes found his and he grinned, looking down at you through his lashes, his hair obscuring half his face.

Fuck, you could stare at him all day.

Jungkook placed your legs around his waist, finally letting them rest from the forced spreading. He roughly jerked his hips into yours and you whimpered, nails clawing into the desk. His fingers dug into your hips and he set his jaw, beginning a hard, fast pace, slapping your hips together, fucking you into the desk. It scraped noisily into the floor, but neither of you cared, you abused pussy lips rubbing against his crotch every time his hips met yours, carried to new heights of pain and pleasure, loving every second, every moment of Jungkook using you to chase his own orgasm, his cock swelling and dragging against your tight walls. So much. So full.

You could never be satisfied with another cock.

“Fuck.”

Jungkook hissed, grip on your hips tightening, bruising you with his fingertips.

“Fuck, noona, I love you.”

Your heart stopped.

And then your orgasm crashed down, overtaking you completely, your head smacking the desk and seeing stars, clenching around Jungkook’s cock and pulsating violently around his length, soaking his thighs with your juices, scent so strong you were sure whatever class that was going to use this lecture hall next was going to smell your cum splattering to the floor.

Jungkook gritted his teeth and rammed his hips into you, dragging you down to meet every thrust, intensifying your orgasm, ripping your pantyhose even more. Once, twice, three times, and he groaned, shuddering as he spilled into the condom, cock shivering inside you as he came. You could feel how much it was, pressing against your walls.

His long hair was all over his face, black strands clinging to his tan skin, sweat dripping off his chin, pink lips quivering, dark eyes roaming over your fucked-out form. Panting hard, matching your heavy, grating breaths behind your now saliva-drenched neck scarf. After a long moment, Jungkook reached down and held onto the condom, slowly pulling out of you.

Holy fuck.

Holy fuck.

You reached up with a shaking hand, pulling the silk out of your mouth. It came out in a long strip of fabric, smacking against your cheek as your removed it from your lips.

Holy.

Fuck.

You sat up, your body screaming at you, seeing Jungkook breathing hard, tying up the condom.

“Did you just tell me you love me?”

Jungkook’s ears turned bright red. He chewed on his lip, biting it hard before facing you. Dark brown eyes suddenly vulnerable, scared. It was the most uncharacteristic expression you had ever witnessed on Jeon Jungkook’s chiseled, handsome face.

“Uh… yeah.”

There was a moment where you realized both you two were mostly naked in a random classroom, clothes thrown everywhere, having made a mess once again.

“Sorry,” Jungkook added quickly. “It slipped out.”

You blinked at him. “Why are you apologizing?”

He rubbed his nose, looking away.

“Well… aren’t you just fucking me because you like to be dominated?”

You frowned. “No, I’m fucking you because I’m in love with you.”

You saw Jungkook freeze. He turned his head robotically, eyes wide and doe-like. “R-really?”

You looked down to notice that your heels were on the tile floor. When had you lost those? You grumbled, trying to straighten out your panties and the remains of your pantyhose. It was doomed. You shrugged, dangling your legs over the edge of the desk as you looked back at Jungkook and his surprised expression. You raised an eyebrow.

“Are you really that much of an idiot?” you muttered, your own cheeks burning, letting out a puff of annoyed air. “Yes, I love you. Why else would I tolerate you staring at me like I’m some kind of zoo animal? Why else would I risk getting in trouble by running around like this? Why else would I let you fuck me at school, in the middle of the damn day, again?”

Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck. “Erm… because I’m hot?”

You rubbed your forehead and sighed exasperatedly, standing up, instantly wincing. Jungkook took a step forward to catch you, but he almost tripped on his pants down his ankles. You caught yourself against the desk and raised a hand, shaking your head.

“Pack your damn dick,” you muttered. You yanked your tights down your legs, removing them and balling them up. They were useless now anyway. You found your bra and put it back on as you eyed your chiffon blouse. Good thing it wasn’t ripped. It only took you a moment to slip it back on, rebuttoning it and tucking it into your skirt. You pulled your pencil skirt back down, straightening it, thighs immediately sticking together from your own fluids.

Yup, still no more comfortable than yanking your pants back on after a session with Jungkook.

You noticed him putting his leather jacket back on and picking up the condom wrapper. He took the silk scarf from the table and shoved it in his back pocket. You went back to him to gather your shoes, but he knelt down, holding out your black heels as if you were Cinderella.

“I can just–”

“Step.”

His tone was sharp and you immediately obeyed, raising your foot and stepping into your shoe. First one, then the other. Jungkook stood back up, exhaling a little. You looked up at him. His chocolate eyes flitted about tensely. He opened his mouth to speak.

“Do you… uh…”

You cut him off. “Jungkook, if you cheat on me, I will personally castrate you with a spoon.”

He cringed. “Ouch.”

You took the used condom and the wrapper bits from him, shoving them into your balled-up pantyhose. You marched towards the door confidently, pain shooting throughout your body with every step. Jungkook called after you.

“Your hairpins.”

You turned your head back a little.

“You can drop them off at my apartment later.”

And then you unlocked the door and stepped out of the classroom.

Park Jimin waved at you, grinning. Plump lips curved into a mischievous smile, wearing a denim jacket and jeans. You almost jumped seeing him standing there. What the fuck is with this guy’s timing? He eyed your hand holding your ruined pantyhose and you put it behind your back, glaring at him.

“I told Namjoon you had a lady emergency.” Jimin wiggled his eyebrows at you before holding up your phone and black purse, the belongings you had left in the back room. “You took longer than you should have.”

You felt your ears burn. “Shit. I need to get back.”

“To Jungkook, yeah,” Jimin chimed teasingly, making you glower at him.

Of course. Jungkook had turned Jimin into his scout for your escapades. Fantastic. You suddenly felt a strong presence behind you. The door had opened and Jungkook’s arm snaked around your waist, yanking you possessively to his side. He placed his chin on top of your head, inhaling the scent of your hair.

“You wanna go on a date, noona?” Jungkook purred, his free hand playing with the ends of your disheveled hair.

You pursed your lips. “I have to get back and help Namjoon.”

Jimin waved a hand. “He’ll be fine for one day. Plus, you’re being kidnapped.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Jungkook slapped his hand over your lips, marching you in the opposite direction of Career Week, Jimin skipping behind you two, cheerfully humming.

-

part iv

--

masterpost

[kindahoping4forever]

Handprints // Ashton Irwin

I’m not in the habit of taking requests/fic suggestions but when an anon sent me a Tiktok and said they needed to read about this scenario and Ashton... I couldn’t resist. 🤡 (And of course I’m me so I had to embellish it into a story and somehow it still ended up 3k smh) As always, my eternal love and thanks to @cal-puddies​ for listening to me talk even the simplest fic to death and just generally being my favorite person.

Warnings: Protected sex in an unestablished relationship, male and female oral sex, playfully rough sex featuring dirty talk and brief spanking

Word Count: 3510

Masterlist // Ko-Fi and New 2021 Taglist linked above

Let  me  know  what  you  think!

You’ve never considered yourself a morning person so it’s nothing short of a miracle that you wake up early. You roll over, stopping just short of the center of the bed, your body registering your unfamiliar surroundings before your mind does. You open your eyes to see a head full of long curls, a tattooed neck and a deliciously freckled back. Right.

You smile to yourself as your tired brain begins to replay the events of the night before. It was your last night in town and you took yourself to a fancy hotel bar to unwind. You’d worked hard all week fielding meetings with your bosses’ bosses but you’d finally landed the promotion; the better pay, the freedom to do the type of work you enjoy - these were all things you’d been aiming for and you couldn’t be happier. It’ll be worth the trouble of having to move out to LA.

Especially now, you think to yourself, looking at the sleeping figure next to you before shaking your head, trying to erase those kinds of thoughts from your mind. You’re getting ahead of yourself. You and Ashton had instantly hit it off, amused at being the only two lone patrons, attempting to people-watch without making it obvious - you trying to distract from how awkward you felt being alone and him nonchalantly jotting notes in his phone, a musician looking for inspiration.

You easily could’ve stayed talking to him all night, listening to his stories about the promo tour he and his band were on, him asking questions (and actually being interested in the answers) about your new job and impending move... but when the invitation to “continue the conversation” in his room led to more than just talking… you can’t say you weren’t hoping for that outcome.

You gently ease yourself out of bed, a few slight aches reminding you what a good time you had last night. You pull your phone out of your purse and check your messages. Damn. The meeting to officially sign off on the new position has been pushed up from an early dinner to a late brunch.

You locate your clothes as quietly as you can and slip into the bathroom; you’re staying across town and won’t have time to make it there and back before your appointment so you do as much damage control as you can, utilizing the swanky hotel’s generous supply of amenities.

You decide your top could use a steam and head back out to the suite in your bra and skirt, hoping to track down an iron but instead you freeze at the sight of Ashton awake, lounging in bed, sheets resting distractingly low around his waist. “Thought you’d skipped out on me,” he smirks, muscular arms flexing as he stretches, drawing your attention to the star on his right bicep that you fell asleep tracing.

You feel yourself fighting every muscle in your body to keep from crawling in bed with him, instead retrieving your makeup bag from your purse. “Of course not,” you chuckle, setting up by the mirror across from the bed. “I did just find out I have to be somewhere though.”

“Oh,” he says, surprised. Disappointed, even? You sneak a peek at him in the mirror, groaning under your breath as the sheets fall away to reveal a quick glimpse of his thick cock heavy between his legs before he pulls on a pair of shorts and walks over to you. “I was looking forward to buying you breakfast,” he admits, settling his face on your shoulder as he wraps his arms around your waist, grinning at you in the mirror.

You smile back, spinning around in his grasp and sighing as he pulls you in for a long, sensuous kiss that has you reconsidering how badly you want this promotion. “I wish I could stay,” you share, running your hand over his beard, wondering if it’s his usual style or just for the ease of being on tour. “But I have to sign before my flight so they can start fast-tracking my transfer to the LA office.” You turn back to the mirror, beginning to liberally pat powder from your compact on your face, trying to compensate for your lack of sleep.

“Fast-track… that sounds promising,” Ash comments, standing behind you again, this time pecking lightly over your bare shoulders. “How soon do you think I might see you out there?”

“Probably be there before you,” you explain, recalling the crazy schedule he shared with you. “They want me to start ASAP so they’re putting me up in a hotel until I can find a place.”

“Mmm,” is his muffled acknowledgment as his kisses travel to your neck. “Wonder if it’ll be as nice as this one.”

“Guess you’ll have to visit and find out,” you boldly tease, breath catching as his touch begins to wander down your body.

He presses into you, hands cupping your breasts over your bra and you watch as a slow smirk spreads across his face when he feels your nipples hard against the thin lace, eagerly anticipating his attention.

“I’ll have to… clearly I can’t leave you alone for too long,” he rasps, morning voice made even deeper by desire. You close your eyes and lean back against him, allowing yourself the momentary distraction. “How much time we got, baby? ...Time for a proper goodbye?”

“Some… some time… not a lot.” Your breath grows heavier as his mouth works over your neck and his fingers tease your hard buds through your bra.

You’re surprised to feel Ash pull back from you but honestly your brain is mush from everything that’s happened this week so you don’t even take the time to question it, instead you just move closer to the mirror to try making your hair look less morning after-y.

Seconds later you feel his lips again, this time leaving a trail of kisses down your back, kneeling to peck around your waistband while his fingers nimbly unzip you; he tugs your skirt down and you don’t even give a second thought to stepping out of the material once it’s pooled around your ankles. His thumbs hook inside your panties and they quickly join your skirt on the floor.

You bite your lip, waiting for his next move but Ashton redirects you, insisting, “Uh-uh, baby, you gotta keep getting ready. Can’t have you being late.” He sits back on his heels, gently rubbing up and down your legs, patiently waiting for you to resume your task.

You give him a curious look but do as he suggests. As soon as he can tell your attention has shifted, his hands start travelling higher and higher until his fingers brush along your folds; you hear him exhale as he realizes how wet you are just from all the touching and flirting.

“Guess I should tell you I’ve been thinking about a proper goodbye since I woke up next to you,” you admit, allowing him to widen your stance, shuddering as his thumb grazes over your clit. He hasn’t applied any pressure yet but you can’t believe how much the brief contact has you buzzing, how dazed your reflection already looks.

“Funny, we could’ve started on that sooner if I hadn’t woken up alone,” he jokes, nibbling along your leg.

You giggle, appreciating his wisecrack and the feeling of his scruff tickling your skin. “Trust me, if I had it my way, your wake-up call would’ve been very different.”

Ash laughs knowingly, “I’ll bet.” He goes quiet and you’re just about to see what he’s up to when suddenly you feel the scratch of his beard between your thighs. You groan as he licks up and down the length of your pussy, dragging his tongue through your folds, teasing you until he settles on your clit, lazily circling around it.

“Ashton…” You start, quickly deciding to give up on whatever you were trying to say once he sucks your clit between his lips, hands pawing at your ass and thighs, encouraging you to spread further for him. You curse under your breath, your interest in preparing for your meeting fading with every new jolt of electricity his tongue gives to your core.

He pulls back, nipping at your inner thigh. “Still doesn’t seem like you’re ready to walk out the door, baby, the clock is ticking,” he chides with faux concern. You feel him grin as he flicks his tongue over you. “Anything I can do to assist?”

You laugh at his audacity. “Oh I’ve definitely got a few ideas.”

He continues to work and you moan quietly, hips rolling over Ashton’s face without you even realizing. He lets you do your thing for a few moments and then he’s gone again before you feel two large fingers slipping inside you. You moan, this time much louder than you mean to. He curls his long digits just right and it causes you to lurch forward, bracing yourself on the mirror in front of you.

You open your eyes and take in the version of yourself staring back at you: pupils blown, lips swollen from sucking them between your teeth, a light sheen of sweat on your face as you get more and more worked up. The hand between your legs makes another expert move against your pussy and you watch your eyes roll back and your jaw drop.

“Jesus, that’s so good... fuck me,” you mumble, head dropping.

“Is that a comment or a request?” Ash quips, loudly sucking his fingers clean.

You turn around, an intoxicating surge of power and confidence flowing through you as you look down at him on the floor, hunger in his eyes, palming himself through his shorts as he gazes up at you.

“That felt so good, Ash,” you murmur, brushing his long curls off his face. “But if I’m gonna risk being late, I think we should make it worth my while and get me on your cock.” You stare into his eyes, matching his desirous energy, hand rubbing over his beard, gently wiping at the glisten of your arousal on his lips.

He stands up and suddenly you’re reminded of just how big and broad he is and you feel an immediate need to have him surrounding you; he pulls you into a heated kiss and neither of you can help but grind, grope and grab at each other. He discards your bra and sucks your tits into his mouth, tongue circling at your nipples over and over. When he comes up for air, your hand dips into his shorts, moaning at the feeling of his cock hard and leaking in your hold. You’re only able to get a few strokes in before he’s nudging your hand aside so he can pull his shorts down.

You subconsciously lick your lips as his cock eagerly springs from the material and Ashton has to laugh. “I can tell what you’re thinking but remember we’re trying to be quick here,” he teases, taking your wrist and spinning you back to your spread stance against the mirror.

You watch his reflection as he pumps at his cock while he grabs a metallic packet from the nightstand, hissing as his fingers drag over the head before he rolls the condom on. “I dunno, right now I’m about ready to straight up quit my job if it means I don’t have to wait until LA to have you in my throat again,” you say, heart pounding as he positions himself behind you.

Ash grins at you in the mirror, rutting against your ass before guiding his cock to your wetness, teasing a bit before pushing inside. “That was a highlight from last night, wasn’t it? Took me so well… any way I asked… so good, baby,” he huffs, hips setting a steady pace.

“Did plenty of asking myself if I’m not mistaken,” you reply, whining as he gives your hair a slight yank, pulling you back into a sloppy kiss.

“That’s true,” he laughs, groaning as you start moving back against him. His hands, big enough to each cover one of your cheeks, massage and pinch at your ass and you shudder when you see how enthralled he looks as he watches his cock move in and out of your pussy as you work against him.

He pinches your ass a little sharper than before and you let out a loud moan, earning a smirk and a low “shh” from him. “Think I need to ask for somethin’ like I did last night,'' you pant, wiggling your ass a bit. “Will you?”

“I was wondering,” Ashton admits, giving your ass a smack so loud it nearly drowns out the whimper it draws from you. “Good, baby?”

“More,” you choke out. He delivers a pair of flat-palm strikes to each of your cheeks, the both of you audibly reacting to how it makes you throb around him. “Fuck, Ash, yessss… So. Fucking. Good.” You try to keep your voice down, given the early hour but his cock is hitting every single spot you need and well so you’re not sure how successful you’re being.

Two more smacks to your ass and you’re leaning in to the mirror, turning to bury your face in your own bicep in an attempt to muffle your cries. Ash brushes his fingers over your hair before roughly tugging you back again, growling, “Nah, I wanna hear you, baby. Lemme know how much you’re gonna miss this cock filling you up.”

His hands come up to grab your tits, fitting over each one and squeezing tight, using the leverage to bounce you on his cock. A series of low whines pour from your throat and you hope he understands they mean that you can’t get enough of how he’s making you feel, how you’re so glad you went to that bar last night, how you can’t believe how well he can read your body despite only knowing you for 12 hours. You hope he knows because he’s fucking you so thoroughly these sounds are the best you can do.

Your breathing has become more pronounced and your fingers splayed on the mirror now appear to be clawing against the glass; Ashton notices and lets his fingers roll over your nipples before running one of his hands down your body to your clit. “Feelin’ good, baby?” He softly asks, slowing his thrusts to an almost agonizing rate as he rubs you. You nod, whimpering his name as he adds more pressure. “Tell me what you need, want you to feel so good when you cum for me.”

“Holy fuck,” you sob, throwing your head back. His fingers work your clit while the new pace of his hips is driving you absolutely mad, moving so slowly and deliberately, you can feel every inch of his cock deliciously dragging against your sensitive walls. “That. Keep doing that. Oh my god.”

He follows your direction, touching you and methodically fucking you. He leans in to kiss along your ear and when he gently bites down, that’s it for you. You gasp his name in measured huffs as you pulse around his cock; somehow you manage to pry one of your hands off of the mirror and you grab behind you, pawing at his shoulder, his arm, anything you can reach.

Ash puts his free hand on the back of yours against the mirror, interlacing your fingers and rubbing over your skin with his thumb as you tighten around him. “Oh baby, yes, that’s a good girl… feel so good cumming around me,” he praises you, voice straining, clearly trying to keep it together himself.

“Ash,” you whine, grinding against him, riding out the last waves of your orgasm. You look at him in the mirror, with pleading eyes. “Please…”

Somehow he knows what that means and he turns your head to slowly kiss you. You moan into his mouth when you feel his hand drop away from your clit, your body starting to settle. You go slack in his arms, leaning against him, closing your eyes and sighing heavily.

“You good?” He checks, amused concern in his voice.

“Oh, so fucking good,” you breathe dreamily. Suddenly a mischievous smile paints your face and you spring up from his chest. “Your turn!”

Ashton chuckles as you drop to your knees and peel the condom off of him, pumping at his cock before eagerly sliding your mouth on him.

“I’d say again you don’t have time for this but I’ll tell you right now this isn’t going to take very long,” he laughs, massaging his fingers through your hair.

You pop off to stroke him. “See? Efficient and exciting, it’s a win/win for everyone,” you grin, a shiver running down your spine as he groans watching you take him down again.

You don’t take as much of him as you did last night, thinking you probably shouldn’t risk showing up to brunch with a hoarse voice. But you bob up and down enthusiastically enough that it’s only a few moments before his grip on your hair is tightening and he’s rushing out your name.

He giggles fondly as he looks down at you sitting on your knees, mouth happily open as you stroke him. “Baby, what are you gonna do about your meeting if this gets all over you?”

You shrug. “Guess you better have good aim then, bro.”

Ashton laughs loudly until you lean in to flick your tongue on the underside of his tip. With a quickly choked out “Shit… baby…”, his cock twitches and cum starts pouring onto your tongue. You open wide, pumping his shaft and humming with pleasure as he continues spurting into your mouth.

When he’s finished, you close your lips around him, suckling at the head a few more times and he lets out a loud growl in response. “Fuckin’ hell, baby, I’m so glad you didn’t listen to me,” he mumbles.

You giggle, buzzing with satisfaction as he helps you back onto your feet. He kisses you passionately and you lose yourself in it a bit, playing with his messy curls, not ready for this to be over. He glances at the mirror as he pulls away from you and he laughs, causing you to turn in curiosity. “Looks like you’re leaving with a couple souvenirs there,” he teases, gesturing towards your reflection where two large red handprints are decorating your backside. In a quieter tone, he offers, “I hope that doesn’t hurt.”

“Well I do,” you respond suggestively, moving closer to examine his literal handiwork. “Hopefully these will have just about faded by the next time I see you… and then we can re-up.”

He groans at your comments and you can tell he’s fighting the urge to pull you in again, knowing you’ve really got to get going. You save him the trouble and kiss him yourself, tugging his bottom lip between your teeth as you separate.

“And look,” you grin, pointing behind you. “You’ve got something to remember me by too.”

Ashton steps closer to the mirror, a naughty smile spreading as he notices your two handprints smudged on the glass. “I should cancel housekeeping for the rest of my stay so I can keep your memory here with me,” he jokes.

He pecks your lips once more and then scoops your clothes up off the floor, smoothing them out as best he can before passing them to you. “Think you’ll make it on time? I can call your boss and pretend to be your bumbling driver who’s unfamiliar with the area.”

You snort, picking up your phone to check your route. “Oh.”

“Oh?”

“Oh, the meeting’s been switched to a Zoom. My new boss had to get on an earlier flight so we’re electronically signing when they land,” you say with surprise.

“Oh,” Ash agrees, moving back over to you with interest. “And your flight is…”

You bat your eyelashes at him. “Late.”

“New plan!” He announces, literally sweeping you off your feet and carrying you back to bed. “Nap. Shower. Room service. Obviously we’ll have to say goodbye again.”

“Obviously,” you concur. “Is the order of these events negotiable? I’m pretty hungry and that protein shot I just took down the throat isn’t going to last me very long.”

He cracks up, flopping on the sheets next to you. “Sequence of events is up for discussion, as long as we agree right now that calling the maid service isn’t on the docket. I was serious about keeping those handprints up.”

You nod with mock seriousness. “If we pencil in the shower after food and sleep, I might have the energy to work on a matching set for you on the shower door.”

Ashton strokes his beard, playfully considering your offer. “Might be able to deliver another pair for you as well. I’m thinking the backs of your thighs?”

“Fuck that new job, this is the obviously the best business deal I’ll be making today,” you giggle.

————-

Thank you to everyone who has signed up for the taglist, both for the support and the lovely (occasionally hilarious) feedback! If you haven’t signed up yet, the form is linked above! (If your name is crossed out, please check your blog settings, I was unable to tag you)

@matchacal @cxddlyash @2fangirl4u @cashtonasfuck @talkfastromance4 @itjustkindahappenedreally @saywhatnow07 @mymindwide @suchalonelysunflower @pxrxmoore @findingliam-o @fedorable-killjoys @ashton-trash @trix-arent-for-kids @olivia-foster-irwin @Burntout-ky @saphseoul @calmsweetcreature @onthecliffside-mgc @feliznavidaddycal @himbohood  @maggiesupertramp @wiiildflowerrr @karajaynetoday @ashtonangst @sunshineeashton @aladyofalbion @xsongbirdx @loveroflrh @memyselfandbea  @calumrose  @youngblood199456  @sunshineeeluke​  @irwindoll​

[jayeray-hq]

Bass Down Low

Hey everyone! Welcome to my part of the new NSFW Anilysium Server Collab! The theme for it this time is "Band/Tattoo/Badass"! Please check out some of the other amazing writers and artists in the collab by following the link!

If you like my writing for Terushima, check out my other stories in his character masterlist!

Tattooed Bass Guitar Player Terushima x Sassy Confident fem!reader

Tiny tiny bit of angst, but mostly fluff and smut

Warnings: NSFW 18+ minors dni! Grinding, dry humping, making out, slight exhibitionism, switch Terushima, switch reader, male nipple piercings, cock piercing, blowjobs, cunnilingus, overstimulation, vaginal sex, biting, scratching/pain kink

13K+ words

You could feel the bass as it thrummed through the air, making your whole body feel like it was vibrating. The energy was absolutely electric as you soaked in the music and the wild energy of the crowd as it pulsed and moved around you. Bodies were packed in fairly close and you could feel sweat dripping down your back, sticking to your neck and dewing at your temples.

Glancing over you saw your friend sandwiched between two good looking people clearly having the time of her life, lips locked with the person in front of her as they all ground together. You huffed in amusement, glad the two of you had already agreed you’d need to find your way home separately, otherwise you had the feeling you might’ve accidentally been left behind, that or you’d be the awkward third party to whatever was going on there.

Still despite how difficult leaving was going to be, and the sticky feeling of your clothes on your sweaty skin you didn’t regret coming for a minute. You’d been looking forward to coming to this music festival for ages and now that you were finally here you couldn’t get enough. Some of your favorite bands had played, and there were going to be even more in the coming days, you couldn’t wait.

You let yourself move with the music, swirling and rocking your hips, hands in the air as a bubble of laughter burst from your lips. You felt almost drunk on euphoria despite not touching a single drop of alcohol. You’d decided early on not to drink anything but water because you didn’t want to miss or forget a single moment of the experience.

A warm hand settled on your waist, pulling you out of your rhythm and you glanced back, to see someone standing behind you. It was full dark out, the only lights the ones coming from the stage, and a few overhead. However, despite the darkness you could make out an angular jaw, dark eyes and the golden color of his hair, along with the black ink creeping out of the neckline of his tank and up his throat, and spiraling down his shoulders and arms.

Just the sight of all that pretty ink was enough to make you feel incredibly attracted to the stranger, but the fact that he hadn’t come right up and started grinding on you without so much as a by-your-leave was definitely a bonus in your book, a courtesy you fully intended to reward as you rocked your ass back into the cradle of his hips, grinding yourself into him.

“I’ll take that to mean I can dance with you, sexy?” he half-asked, half-shouted in order to be heard over the music.

You didn’t bother to respond verbally, not wanting to shout to be heard, instead flashing him a smile, and grabbing hold of his other hand setting it easily on the curve of your waist. You noted with fascination and a pulse of liquid heat that he was wearing several rings on his fingers and had tattoos on his hands as well.

He was a surprisingly good dancer, his body moving fluidly with yours, hands resting solidly on your hips, just enough to flow without taking control of your movements. They never strayed from your hips either, remaining firmly in place as the two of you moved. You lifted your hands into the air and leaned back against his chest, finding a solid wall of lean muscle as you hooked one of your arms around his neck and curling your fingers through the surprisingly silky strands at the back of his head.

Your entire body felt hot, and when you turned to look at him, the intense look in his dark eyes sent a pulse of desire through you. You weren’t sure if it was the music, the adrenaline, or the heat of his hands on your hips, but you surged forward to press your mouth to his.

He met you eagerly, his mouth hot against yours, as you continued to grind back into him automatically. The hands on your hips pulled you closer removing any distance between the two of you, so that your ass was pressed right up against the cradle of his hips, and you could feel his solid length, hard against your rear.

You moaned into his mouth, incredibly turned on, as he took over the rhythm of your grinding, taking advantage of your open mouth to tease his tongue against your upper lip. You immediately jerked back in surprise, pulling yourself out of his grip so you could turn around.

It was hard to tell, but you thought your dance partner looked startled by your sudden departure, his hands raised as if to show he meant you no harm. You weren’t at all worried about that though, thoroughly distracted by what you’d thought you felt, You surged forward, guided by the press of the crowd and looped your arms around his neck.

Closer now you could see his eyebrows arched in surprise, a glint of wariness in his eyes that disappeared as your hand caressed his jaw, thumb gently pressing on his lower lip in question. He immediately flashed you a cocky smirk, and opened for you, sticking out his tongue and revealing the metal you’d felt against your lip.

“That’s so hot,” you told him, your lips pressed close to his ear so he could hear you.

“I know,” he shouted back with a smirk, before surging forward to reclaim your lips again.

You met him eagerly, immediately opening your mouth, eager to see what he could do with the enticing piece of jewelry through his tongue. He didn’t disappoint, tongue twining and rubbing against yours, the slick sensation of metal strange but not at all unpleasant as he teased it expertly over your tongue.

You hummed in delight as you twined your arms around his neck, fingers running through his hair as you pressed yourself tightly up against him, not even bothering with the music anymore, thoroughly distracted by the taste and feel of him against you.

His hands dipped lower, sliding into the back pockets of your jeans and when you didn’t protest he began to knead your ass, using his grip to hold you tight to his hips and press himself against your belly. You leaned against him, bracing more of your weight so you could lift one of your legs and wrap it around his hips, earning a groan of pleasure that you felt more than heard, the sound rumbling through his chest.

Your hands dipped lower, feeling the strong muscle of his back, and letting your head tip to the side, as he pressed open mouthed kisses along your jaw, nipping at the sensitive skin as his lips found the column of your throat. Breathy sighs and gasps left your lips as you ground your hips against him, seeking friction for your aching cunt. You could feel how wet you were, and were suddenly grateful you’d worn shorts rather than a skirt otherwise you would’ve been dripping down your thighs.

You whined as he found the perfect spot on your neck, hands digging into his back as he nipped and sucked at it, teasing it with the smooth metal of his piercing as his hands guided your hips in just the right way to stimulate your clit, the seam of your shorts pressing into you deliciously with every movement of his hips.

Your whole body felt like it was on fire, and you were absolutely sure you could come just like this. Unfortunately right as you were about to reach your peak the roar of the crowd took an upswing, and you realized the band that had been playing was finished. You grimaced at having to stop, but figured you owed the band its due recognition. They’d been very good, and so you applauded and cheered along with the rest of the crowd.

The announcer told you there would be a quick fifteen-minute break before the next set, and you turned toward your dance partner, an offer to leave together and finish what you’d started on the tip of your tongue only to find the most horrified look on his face. Your heart dropped, wondering if you’d somehow done something wrong as his face swiveled between you and the stage.

You’d been about to back away, thinking you might as well use the crowd to escape the awkward situation you were in, when he surged forward to grip your hand.

“Come with me?” he half-asked, half-demanded, a determined light in his eyes that made you a bit nervous.

“Come with you where?” you asked, suddenly wary despite the fact that you’d been about to offer the same thing just seconds ago.

“I don’t really have time to explain,” he told you sheepishly, “But I swear you’re safe with me. Just trust me for a bit and I’ll show you exactly what this baby can do.”

He waggled his tongue at you for emphasis, brandishing his piercing, and you couldn’t help the snort of amusement that left you. You searched his face for a few seconds, but in the end decided, despite his slightly rougher appearance that there was an earnestness in his gaze that you felt could be trusted.

“All right,” you agreed, “But if you try anything funny I’ll kick your ass.”

“That’s hot,” he told you, a little wide-eyed and clearly lustful, not the reaction you were expecting, “I knew you were something special little miss sexy. Don’t worry, the only thing you might have to be afraid of is how any other man will measure up after you’ve had me.”

You huffed a laugh at that, amused despite yourself, and a little turned on by his confidence, as you agreed, “Well then, how could I say no to an offer like that? Lead the way then mister hot shot.

He flashed you a delighted grin that was more boyish and charming than you’d expected as he moved to do as he was told, keeping a strong grip on your hand as he expertly weaved his way through the crowd. You got a little worried when he started to lead you out and around, worried about the slowly thinning herd of people, which would mean a lack of witnesses if something went wrong.

However, he didn’t lead you out and away, instead pulling you towards a security guard who was chatting with a worried looking man with neat dark hair and glasses, whose eyes were darting around, clearly searching for something or someone.

His worried look faded away into relieved exasperation as he spotted the two of you, his eyes skimming over you briefly before turning all his attention to the man dragging you along by the hand, “Terushima! How many times do I have to tell you, you can’t just go wandering off right before the set starts!”

“Relax Anabara,” your guide, whose name was apparently Terushima, told the older man, far too casually for someone who was being lectured, “I got back in time didn’t I?”

“Barely,” Anabara hissed back, “you’re cutting it awfully close. Why do you need to go wandering off anyway?”

“Wanted to get a look at the stage and get a feel for the crowd,” he admitted with a shrug and a grin, “Energy’s way hot tonight, and I managed to run into someone interesting too.”

That immediately redirected both of their attention to you. You were still clutching Terushima’s hand, but were starting to feel like you shouldn’t be, as you finally put two and two together, your hold on him loosening slightly in response as you turned to him and blurted, “You’re in a band?!”

“You’re looking at Johzenji’s best bass player, and main song writer,” he told you smugly, a pleased smirk on his face.

You tried to find words, but couldn’t, utterly flabbergasted. You’d heard of Johzenji, an up and coming band who had a wild energetic sound, and you’d listened to and liked some of their music in preparation for the festival, but you hadn’t actually looked up the band members themselves.

“The rest of the band is waiting,” Anabara told him, clear impatience in his voice as he gestured for the blond to follow, “The rest are all warming up, you need to be out there too.”

“Yeah, yeah keep your hair on,” Terushima told him with a smirk before turning to you, “Come on, I’ll get you all settled backstage, it’ll be the best seat in the house I promise.”

“I’m not so sure that’s a good idea,” you told him, grip loosening on his hand in preparation to let go, acutely aware of the disapproving gaze of Anabara, who you assumed was a manager of some sort, boring into the side of your head.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate the offer,” you told him hurriedly, as the smirk slipped off his face leaving something disbelieving and a little hurt in its place, one that tugged your heartstrings, which was surprising considering you’d only known him for an hour or two at most, “But you need to get going. Good luck with the set I’m sure it’ll be amazing.”

“W-wait!” he managed to catch your hand before you’d completely tugged free, his eyes, which in the light you could now see were a pretty cinnamon brown color, were pleading as he asked, “Please come back with me? I know I sprang this on you out of the blue, but I really felt a connection with you. After the set, we’ll clear things up, so just come watch me okay?”

The more rational part of you wanted to scoff. He was really laying it on thick, cheesy line after cheesy line. You’d found each other in a crowd, danced and made out for a bit, that was all. So maybe you’d felt a little something too, it was the reason you’d let him lead you away from the crowd, but that was just the music, the energy of the crowd right?

Your eyes flitted to where Anabara was standing, but Terushima apparently caught your intention and shifted his hand to block your view, the tattooed appendage coming up to push a strand of hair behind your ear, this thumb caressing your jaw, eyes boring into yours as he asked, “Please?”

Against your better judgement you found yourself nodding, almost hypnotized by the incredibly attractive man, whose every touch seemed to send tingles of electricity through your veins. The smile he offered you was another of those delighted boyish grins and you found yourself tugged along behind him again. To your surprise Anabara didn’t bother to protest, simply shaking his head, sighing and following along behind the two of you.

It was incredibly busy backstage as everyone hustled around in a kind of coordinated chaos as one band left the stage and Johzenji got ready to enter. True to his word Terushima found you a spot that would give you a good view of most of the stage, pressed a water bottle into your hands and a quick surprisingly sweet kiss to your lips before bounding off, though not before assuring you, wide smug grin back on his face, that you were in for the ride of your life.

You watched as he bounded over to people who had to be his bandmates, idly sipping at your water, and taking everything in. One of the guys immediately captured Terushima in a headlock, playfully wrestling around for a bit, the group tussling together, before a sharp word from a pretty girl holding a clipboard sent them all scurrying off to warm-up.

For someone so seemingly lighthearted, Terushima was surprisingly serious as he started to warm up, picking up his black bass guitar, the yellow and white tribal pattern on the body a clear imitation of the ink that bloomed over his fingers. His face was extremely concentrated as talented fingers plucked at the strings, dancing over the instrument with ease and familiarity. It was incredibly attractive, and you couldn’t help pressing your water to your neck, hoping it would help cool you down a bit and stop you from salivating.

You were slowly but surely acclimatizing to the fact that he was in a band, your shock wearing off and leaving the burning attraction you���d felt from the very first moment he’d put his hands on you in the crowd bubbling to the surface again.

“Impressive, isn’t he?” the words jolted you out of your enraptured staring at his fingers, and made you realize the pretty girl from before had come to stand next to you. She was still holding her clipboard, and her eyes weren’t on you, but on the band flitting between members, clearly checking in on them.

“I mean yes?” you said hesitantly, unsure why she’d decided to speak to you, and a little uncomfortable with the look on her face, which was set in a frown.

“So where’d he pick you up?” she asked sharply, clear disapproval in her eyes as she turned toward you, “The parking lot? Hanging around the trailers? Get caught sneaking back stage? Let me tell you something groupie, you’re not going to get anything else from Terushima or from Johzenji, so enjoy the show or whatever, but make sure you get lost after.”

“What?” you asked, baffled, but unwilling to allow yourself to be cowed in the face of her tirade as you snapped back, “As a matter of fact I was out in the audience minding my own business. I didn’t even know who Johzenji was before I got tickets to this music festival! I didn’t know who Terushima was until Anabara said something, he was the one who came up to dance with me not the other way around, so I suggest you back up with your assumptions.”

The girl looked surprised, brown eyes wide in her pretty face as you huffed out an annoyed sigh, your displeasure overtaking your more base urges once again as you questioned whether you should be there. A quick glance at Terushima showed he was still entirely focused on his warm-up, he didn’t look like he’d notice anything let alone you.

You didn’t belong here, and both Anabara and whoever this girl was had made it pretty clear you weren’t welcome either. It didn’t help that her words implied that Terushima brought girls back pretty often, so much for ‘feeling a connection’ it really had been the line it sounded like. You couldn’t help the slight bitterness of your thoughts as you wondered how many women he’d used it on before and feeling a bit stupid for falling for it.

If it looked like a duck, walked like a duck, and quacked like a duck, odds were it was a duck. Terushima looked like a stereotypical bad boy with an overinflated ego, swaggered like one, and even laid down stupid, misleading lines like one. While you’d technically only hoped to get a good lay out of this and nothing more, you did have standards.

That in mind you decided, no matter how good the music was or how exciting it had initially been to be back stage, it wasn’t worth it. Spinning on your heel you began to walk away, fully intent on writing it off as a bad night, and feeling more than a little bitter about how running into Terushima had decidedly ruined your night and your enjoyment of the festival.

“Where are you going?” the question was voiced by a familiar male voice, Anabara had apparently come up beside you some time while you were lost in your own head, making quiet plans to never support Johzenji ever again, “Surely Terushima told you not to wander around back here?”

“I’m leaving,” you informed him flatly, utterly fed up, “I wasn’t entirely comfortable coming back here in the first place, and now I’m even more uncomfortable, so if you could point me to the exit I’d appreciate it. Hell, you can even have security escort me to make sure I don’t do anything weird since you’re all apparently so paranoid about it, but I would very much like to never see you or anyone else involved with Johzenji ever again please and thank you.”

Anabara’s eyebrows, which had been settled in a disapproving frown, immediately flew upwards in shock, seemingly rendered speechless, though you weren’t sure if that was for your words or the rude tone you’d used. A part of you felt bad for it, but you were at the end of your rope, one make-out session and the promise of a night of good sex wasn’t worth all this drama no matter how talented he was with his tongue or the backstage pass he’d gotten you.

“You can’t leave,” the girl blurted out, hurriedly maneuvering in front of you and holding her arms out to seemingly block your path, “You have no idea what that will do to Terushima if he looks over and you’re not here! It’ll throw his entire performance off!”

“Weren’t you the one who just called me a groupie and implied I was some kind of whore he picked up in the parking lot?” you asked sarcastically, “Forgive me if I don’t give a shit.”

“Really Hana?” Anabara asked heaving a pained sigh at the girl, whose name was apparently Hana, “I understand not approving of Terushima’s habits, but this was neither the time nor the place, and she shouldn’t have been the one you brought it up to. It’s not her fault.”

You relaxed a bit at that, surprised but pleased, some of your anger seeping away. A lot of times women got blamed for men’s promiscuous behavior, when the man was the one to blame. You were glad to see it wasn’t actually like that here.

“You’re right,” Hana agreed, with a pained grimace before turning to you, “I apologize, I was rude. The last few women Terushima brought back either stole things, or decided to act crazy and possessive both with Terushima and with other band members. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“It’s alright,” you assured her, even as your opinion of Terushima plummeted even further. If he had that kind of history no wonder she’d been so upset and on guard when she saw you. You would’ve been angry too if you had to deal with that, your anger with her leeching away, “Sounds like you’ve been through a lot.”

“You have no idea,” she told you fervently, heaving a sigh before pleading, “Please, will you stay? It really will throw Terushima off if you’re not here, and while he might deserve that, the some of the other band members don’t, and the audience certainly doesn’t.”

You grimaced, a little unsure. While you didn’t feel nearly as angry or bitter as before you also still had standards. If you stayed it would imply you wanted to have sex with him, which at this point was pretty much off the table.

“If it helps, Terushima may be a player with terrible taste in women, but he won’t pressure you if you say no after,” Hana assured you, apparently reading your mind.

Thinking about it, and the respectful way he’d danced with you, and kissed you always courteous you found you agreed with what she said, and before you knew it found yourself agreeing to stay, much to Hana and Anabara’s visible relief.

Hana quickly guided you back to your spot, and much friendlier now, began to explain some of the things that were going on as the band got set up. She also named the members for you as she realized you’d told the truth and didn’t actually know who any of them were. You found yourself liking the kind, if stern girl a lot, and the way she was clearly a huge fan, both of the band and the music they made, had you hyped up right along with her, ready to see what they could do.

The energy between her and the crowd which were starting to slowly become more and more hyped up as it became clear the band was going to start, was absolutely electric, and you could feel yourself getting hyped up again.

Terushima, who’d seemed to be in his own little world the moment he’d picked up his instrument, finally glanced up as the lead singer, who you suspected was Hana’s boyfriend from the way she’d gushed about him earlier, tapped him on the shoulder clearly asking if he was ready.

Even from the distance you were at you could see the cockiness in Terushima’s smirk as someone plugged him into the amplifier. His fingers immediately moved over the strings, playing a dizzying array of notes and cords in quick succession, the sound loud enough to feel in your bones earning an immediate roar of approval from the audience, which somehow sounded even louder from the stage than it had been when you were standing with them.

Terushima gave the audience a tongue lolling grin flashing his piercing to them, his eyes cutting over to where you were standing with Hana. You raised an eyebrow at him finding yourself drawn in, in spite of yourself giving him a challenging smirk of your own and a ‘bring it on’ gesture clearly inviting him to give you this so called ‘ride of your life’ that he’d promised your before. He looked shocked for a second before a wide grin crossed his face, clearly accepting your challenge.

You watched a little enthralled, the way good music always made you feel as they started to play their set, your hips beginning to rock automatically to the sound of the bass. Up close you could see why Johzenji was shooting to the top, it was clear they were all talented and passionate about their music throwing themselves into it with everything they had.

However, despite wanting to look at the others your eyes seemed almost magnetized to Terushima, drawn back to him each and every time no matter what. It was clear he was having the time of his life, jumping all around the stage, flashing that pierced tongue, his dexterous fingers working over the strings of his instrument in a way that was utterly enthralling as a part of you wondered if his skill with his fingers might translate over to something a little more carnal.

It didn’t help that he kept glancing over at you, his gaze clearly a challenge daring you to try to look away from him. There was something hot and heavy in his eyes, something that told you the answer to your question was yes, and that he couldn’t wait to show you.

You could feel yourself getting almost unbearably hot in a way that had nothing to do with the heat of the lights bleeding off the stage, or the summer night air, your body seemingly pulsing in time to the music and the notes of his bass guitar. The air practically electric, your skin hypersensitive as if you could feel the waves of sound on your skin.

You hadn’t realized their set was long enough that they were doing a fifteen minute intermission of sorts where band members would chat one by one with the audience, talking about their music and answering a few fan questions they’d gotten on their Tweeter account.

Thus you were entirely unprepared when Terushima set down his instrument and came bounding off stage. You barely had time to blink before he was on you, strong hands finding your hips, slipping into the back pockets of your jean shorts to grope your ass as he pulled you close.

His lips were on yours before you’d really had time to process, and you found yourself returning his kiss enthusiastically, unable to resist his magnetism and the electric feeling of his hands on you and his lips on yours. One of your hands tangled with his hair and you tugged it, not caring a bit about the sweat slicked strands, well aware you were equally sweaty, too enraptured by the heat between the two of you to care about a little sweat.

It was only when a loud cough broke through your lustful haze that you remembered that you weren’t supposed to be kissing Terushima at all. You quickly pulled away, kicking yourself, both for your loss of composure and for making a scene in front of all his bandmates outside the lead singer, who was the only one on stage at the moment, and Hana who was watching the two of you with raised eyebrows.

“So you’re the girl huh?” one of his bandmates asked, eying you with interest.

“Yes, she’s female,” Hana cut in, to your relief, “And you can gawk later, you have less than ten minutes to get yourselves refreshed so you can take over and Okudake can have his well-deserved break too.”

Terushima groaned, and while Hana’s stern look sent the others scrambling to obey, he was clearly more resistant as he refused to let go, clinging on to you in a way that almost would’ve been cute if you hadn’t cottoned on to what a womanizer he was.

“Well?” Hana demanded, hands on hips, “You heard me Terushima, get a move on.”

“Go on,” you urged, moving to extract yourself from his hold.

“No way!” he protested, turning betrayed eyes on you, his grip firming for just a minute before reluctantly starting to loosen, “You haven’t even told me how amazing I am yet.”

“I guess you’re not bad,” you told him with a casual shrug, unable to resist teasing even as the more rational part of you was screaming about how this was a terrible idea, and that you had no plans of having any sort of relationship with him sexual or not, so shouldn’t be flirting with him.

“Not bad?” He squawked, clearly outraged, “I’ll show you not bad little miss sexy, I told you I’m gonna rock your entire world.”

“You’re not going to be rocking anything if you collapse from dehydration hot stuff,” you informed him dryly, shoving at his chest until he let go, though he was clearly pouting about it, “Go. Water, snacks, refresh, move it.”

“You’re as cruel as Hana,” Terushima told you, sulkily, before plastering on another cocky smirk as he acquiesced, “But fine, I’ll do what you say, so long as you promise not to take your eyes off me for the second half of the set.”

“Sure, sure,” you agreed with a casual eye roll, unable to keep amusement from bleeding into your voice as you ushered him away. He went, though not without one last toe curling kiss and a quick grope of your ass.

“You’re really good with him,” Hana’s speculative voice distracted you from watching Terushima walk away, and you felt heat in your cheeks as you realized she’d caught you gawking at him.

“I uh….” You floundered, trying to find the words to defend yourself, especially when you’d been so adamant before about not having sex with Terushima.

“It’s okay you know,” she assured you, a strange look on her face that you couldn’t quite decipher, “You wouldn’t be the first to get swept up in his charisma, and no one could blame you for having a casual fling. I certainly can’t judge given my own relationship.”

She had a point. It was your body after all and one night couldn’t hurt, especially with the chemistry between the two of you, still you did have some concerns.

“He’s clean if you were wondering,” Hana informed you casually, apparently fully able to read your mind despite only knowing you for an hour or two at most, “Terushima’s always been a player, but he’s also always been meticulous about his health, and the reputation of the band. He may act like an irresponsible idiot when it comes to women, but the band means a lot to him.”

“He does seem really passionate about it,” you acknowledged, refusing to think about the heat in your cheeks or the way your eyes kept coming back to Terushima as he hurriedly gulped down his drink and horsed around a bit with the drummer before charging back out on stage to interact with the audience.

“The band means everything to all of them,” Hana told you, with a fond smile for Okudake who only paused for a moment to kiss her cheek before heading for refreshments, confirming your suspicions about their relationship, “It’s their dream.”

“I can see that,” you mused thoughtfully, watching as Terushima practically bounced around the stage like a child on a sugar high, hyping up the audience like none other.

“I think maybe I might’ve given you the wrong impression earlier,” she admitted, the words making you pull your attention away from Terushima and focus solely on her, “Terushima isn’t actually a bad guy, he’s just terrible when it comes to women he likes. Despite how he looks he can be an absolute sweetheart.”

“You know you’re going to confuse me with all this changing around you keep doing,” you teased lightly, “Before I thought you would rather I burn at the stake rather than have sex with Terushima and now it almost sounds like you’re encouraging me to go for it.”

“I didn’t know you earlier,” Hana dismissed, a flush in her cheeks, clearly a bit uncomfortable with your observation even as she tacked on, more to herself than to you, “And I’ve never seen him interact like that with a woman before.”

You didn’t get the chance to question her about it, or really process what she’d said as the band took that minute to start the music back up, and the audience gave a lively roar. Terushima gave you an almost too conspicuous wink and a cocky smirk before turning back to what he did best, tattooed fingers flying over the strings again.

Once more you got caught up in the beat, the rhythm of his bass as it hummed through your body, and the heated looks he threw your way whenever he got a spare second, clearly checking to make sure he had all of your attention. You lost yourself in it, you were here to enjoy the music, and like hell were you going to let anything, even your preoccupation with the sexy bass player, get in the way of that.

It seemed like the whole thing ended far too soon, as the last chords faded into the night, the roar of the crowd as the band gave their goodbyes almost deafening in conjunction with the fireworks going off overhead. The minute the lights were down, the band members quickly passed off their instruments as staff, including Hana, swarmed the stage, ready to begin tear down for the evening.

Johzenji had been the last band scheduled for the night, which meant everyone would be going home. The buzzing of your phone reminded you of your friend and a quick glance confirmed your earlier suspicions, that she was going home with one or both of her earlier dance partners. You sent a quick text back urging her to be safe, and hesitated for a long moment before finally telling her that you had your own hook-up for the night.

She congratulated you, and you grinned, amused and fond, sliding your phone back into your pocket and just in time as Terushima’s hands snagged you around the waist, pulling you close again. There was a delighted smile on his face, open and boyish that told you how incredibly pleased he was with himself and his performance, and looking at it you knew in that moment you’d lost the internal debate. No way were you going to be able to walk away, not when he was looking at you like that.

You could vaguely hear his bandmates wolf whistling at the two of you as you pulled him down to kiss, tangling your fingers in his sweaty hair, but ignored them entirely, too intent on the humming electricity between the two of you and his hot wet mouth, the feel of his piercing a sensation you were coming to adore as you flicked it with your tongue.

His hands were all over you, roaming your back and occasionally dipping lower to knead your ass, his firm chest pressed tightly against your own. You could feel his hard length, fully aroused and clearly more than ready for you, pressed firmly into you, the idea of it making your body clench with need, wetness soaking your panties.

“Oy, get a room,” Hana’s voice cut in, clear exasperation in every word, catching your attention as the two of you parted for breath, “No one wants to see that!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Terushima told her casually, rolling his eyes a bit, though you shot her a sheepish look, earning an amused one in return, before being thoroughly distracted again by the sexy blond bass player as he released you just enough so that he could snag your hand, and you found yourself tugged along behind him for the second time that night as he told you, “Come on little miss sexy, let’s see if I can’t give you that ride I promised you.”

“Lead on then hot shot,” you told him with a laugh, only pausing to shoot a quick wave at Hana, who just shook her head in clear exasperation, though you thought there was something of a smile on her lips too.

This time you weren’t nearly so worried about following him, and weren’t too concerned when he led you back and away to a parking lot that was full of trailers with few if any people. Even without knowing him for too long you could tell which was his at a glance, considering the outside was covered in stylized graffiti that read Johzenji surrounded by tribal work.

It didn’t take him long to fumble the door open and lead you inside, and you were relieved to find that the interior was apparently nice enough for air conditioning. It wasn’t much, a queen sized bed, bathroom, and a couch with recording equipment and various instruments scattered everywhere, but it was better than you’d been expecting. Honestly you thought he might’ve shared space with the other members of his band, and were pleased to find it wasn’t true, mostly because you’d hate the idea of kicking someone out just so you could get laid.

You didn’t get much more time to think about it as you were immediately distracted by Terushima, who’d attached his mouth to your neck the second the door had been closed and locked behind the two of you, nibbling and sucking at the sensitive column of your throat. You let out a low moan as he nipped at your collarbone, fingers twisted in the fabric of his black tank, digging into the strong muscle of his back and shoulders.

A gasping moan escaped your lips as he sucked at your collarbone, his hot mouth like a brand against your skin in the almost too cool trailer. You slid your hands down his back, eager to get your hands on his skin, and to see more of the ink that adorned his body, slipping your hands under his tank and tugging upwards.

Terushima seemed to get the hint, giving you a smug look as he pulled away just enough for you to tug the damp fabric up and over his head. His torso was nicely toned, lean but firm with muscle, and adorned in black ink that crept downwards from his neck, covering his upper chest and shoulders, though you noted his abs were bare.

Your fingers automatically moved to touch, tracing the lines down from his neck, and over his shoulders, utterly fascinated. It was beautiful work, a mix of tribal and Japanese style work. He shivered slightly, though whether that was from your touch or from the cool air on his warm skin you couldn’t tell.

You probably could’ve spent hours exploring his tattoos, and would’ve except you got distracted by the glint of metal. Bright silver barbells glinted in each of his dusky colored nipples, catching all your attention, and sending a jolt of heat through you as you wondered if he had anything else pierced.

“Like what you see?” Terushima asked, his voice full of smug superiority as he brushed a teasing hand down his chest, a cocky smirk on his face.

A part of you really wanted to wipe that look off his face, and you thought you might know just how to do it. You hooked your fingers through the belt loops of Terushima’s jeans and tugged him forward by them, earning a delighted chuckle from the man before you reclaimed his mouth.

Your hands immediately went to his abdomen, gently scraping your nails over the ridges of his abs and earning a full body shudder from the man, who’d buried one of his talented hands in your hair, the other caressing your side.

The feel of muscle under your fingers as you skimmed your palms up his chest, letting his pebbled nipples catch on the webbing between your fingers, teasing the nubs gently between your fingers earning a low needy moan from Terushima, his hips thrusting into yours, reminding you how utterly hard he was and sending a burst of heat through you.

You pulled your lips away from his, earning a discontent whine from the man until he felt your lips on his throat. He tilted his head with a low groan, allowing you full access without protest, as you traced your lips over his tattoos. His skin tasted like salt from the sweat, but it wasn’t unpleasant, as he smelled clean beneath it, something warm and masculine that made your passage clench with want, and need.

Your hands roamed down his sides, and over his back, unable to keep yourself from touching him as you sucked and nipped at the junction of his neck, adoring the quiet moans and breathy gasps from his lips. His hand in your hair was gentle, not guiding or pushing simply allowing you to do as you pleased with him even as his fingers gently tugged, his grip occasionally tightening in a way you found extremely arousing whenever you nipped at him or found a particularly sensitive spot. You continued your exploration downward tracing a path down to his collarbone then lower across his pectorals and finally to your goal.

“Aw fuck,” Terushima whined as you pulled his pebbled nipple into your mouth sucking at the sensitive nub, swirling your tongue around it and playing with the metal piercing as your other hand found his other nipple, fingers toying with the matching barbell, unable to keep your hands away from it.

“Hng! You like those little miss sexy?” he teased, though he was breathless enough that it barely constituted teasing, “I knew you couldn’t keep your hands off me, should’ve known from the way you acted when you got my tongue piercing, but if you like that wait until you see my…”

He cut himself off with a whine as you teased him with your teeth, gently scraping them over the sensitive nub and tugging at it carefully as your other hand gently flicked and tugged at his piercing. You were a bit curious about what he’d been about to say, though you had a sneaking suspicion you’d find out when you got him completely naked.

Curious, you decided to stop playing with his piercings for now and began to kiss your way down his chest, bracing your hands on his sides so you could slowly lower yourself, tracing your thumbs over the sharp v of his hipbones as you traced his treasure trail to where his pants were sitting low on his hips.

You carefully scraped your teeth over the taught skin, kissing and suckling hard, well aware you were going to leave marks and not caring in the slightest that unlike the ones you’d undoubtedly left on his neck and chest, these were going to be much more visible due to his lack of tattoos there.

“Fuck, you’re so fuckin’ sexy,” Terushima praised with a shudder as he stared down at you, pupils blown wide and lust written all over his face, a loud groan leaving his lips as you cupped his erection through his pants, teasingly stroking it through the material as you looked up at him, unable to help the smirk curling your lips at the sight of him, his lips puffy and swollen from kisses, hair damp and sticking to his forehead and beautiful inked skin glistening with perspiration.

Looking at him, you could see how he coaxed so many women into his bed, between his looks and his musical ability it was no wonder he was so cocky. Still despite how many people he’d been with before he was with you at the moment and you were going to make the most of it.

Your fingers deftly undid the button and zipper of his pants and you turned to look up at Terushima amused and a little shocked as you asked, “You go commando on stage?”

“What can I say,” he told you with a proud smirk, “I’m a rebel.”

You huffed out an amused laugh and ran a teasing finger up his shaft, gently stroking the underside his twitching cock which had left precum smeared inside his pants and his lower abdomen. Just as you’d suspected there were piercings here as well, a Jacob’s ladder of three separate barbells, right under the head.

The sight left your mouth watering, and you licked your lips, fully intent on blowing his mind, and playing with those lovely piercings, but when you went to lean forward you were stopped by the grip he still had on your hair.

“Something the matter?” you asked, genuinely concerned as your hands stroked at his strongly muscled thighs, the gesture meant to be soothing as you peered up at him and asked, “Do you not want me to suck your cock hot shot?”

“There is nothing more that I want right now than to have that sexy mouth of yours all over me,” he told you, the low rasp of his voice and his lust darkened gaze utterly convincing, “But I said I was going to give you the ride of your life little miss sexy and I intend to follow through on it.”

“Oh?” you asked teasingly, thumbs tracing over the sensitive place where his thighs met his hips, “You think you can?”

“You have no idea what you’re in for,” he told you with a cocky smirk, one that fell away into a full body shudder as you leaned forward, grasping his leaking cock at the base and running your tongue teasingly along the underside.

“I think you’re the one who doesn’t know what they’re in for,” you told him, with a smirk of your own as you stroked your hand upward and used your thumb to tease the sensitive place where the barbells passed through the skin right under the head earning a low moan.

“Maybe not,” he admitted, as he recovered, a grin on his face that was boyish and reckless, “But I won’t know until I try.”

Amused and intrigued you let him go and allowed him to pull you to your feet and reclaim your mouth with his, reminding you just how skilled he was with his tongue as he kicked off his pants, shoes and socks and began to talk you slowly backwards towards the bed. He proved to be either extremely coordinated or practiced or both as he managed to coax you out of almost all of your clothes except your soaked panties by the time the back of your knees hit the bed.

You let yourself fall backwards, plopping on to the surprisingly comfortable mattress, and smiling into Terushima’s kiss unable to pull yourself away, thoroughly distracted by his talented mouth and the warm hands that were skimming up and down your sides, thumbs occasionally teasingly skimming the undersides of your breasts.

You held him to you, his face cradled in your hands as he crouched over you, one knee braced on the bed, and the other still planted on the floor as his hands dipped lower, finding the waistband of your panties, and teasing his fingers along the edge.

“What are you waiting for,” you teased between kisses, “A written invitation?”

“Only your permission little miss sexy,” he teased right back with a smug grin, hooking his fingers through the elastic and giving a gentle tug.

Something about his tattooed fingers in contrast with the pretty lace panties you’d decided to wear was extremely hot and sent a surge of lust through you, as you lifted your hips and watched as he peeled the sodden lace away from your soaked core.

As they fell away his hands came back up to your thighs, and you couldn’t look away from the contrast of his darkly inked hands, adorned with several silver rings glinting against your smooth thighs.

You didn’t protest as he gently pushed them open, revealing how utterly soaked you were, instead leaning back on your elbows and spreading them further to give him a better view.

“Fuck,” he hissed eyes riveted on your most intimate parts as if he was unable to look away, his pierced tongue darting out to wet his lips, and his eyes dark with desire, “You’re so fucking sexy.”

“You’re not so bad yourself hot shot,” you countered even as his words and the hungry look on his face sent a surge of heat through you.

“I’m gonna eat you out so good you’re going to be screaming my name,” he promised, his thumbs caressing the sensitive skin of your inner thighs as he started to drop to his knees.

“Ah-ah,” you scolded, pulling yourself away, scooting backwards on the bed and away from him.

“You don’t want it?” he asked, looking a cross between shocked and a toddler who’d been denied his favorite treat.

“The only way you get your face between these thighs is if I get that lovely pierced cock in my mouth,” you informed him challengingly, holding out your hand to him in a clear gesture to come join you on the bed.

His face immediately lit up, a wicked grin on his face as he agreed, “Sounds like a fair deal to me sexy lady.”

It took him less than a second to join you on the bed, and he agreeably laid back for you, hands folded behind his head, body on clear display without an inch of shame, the smirk on his face telling you he was well aware how hot he looked spread out like that, all pale skin, dark ink, and silver piercings, he practically oozed bad boy sex appeal.

“Got your seat all ready for you,” he goaded, tapping his lips and wiggling that pierced tongue at you enticingly.

You laughed in helpless amusement, earning a tongue lolling grin in turn from the sexy bass player, who was clearly unbothered and supremely confident in a way you couldn’t help but find incredibly attractive.

He coaxed you up , letting you straddle his face, his head propped up on the pillows to make things easier, his face pressed into your thigh, nipping and suckling at the sensitive skin as you got yourself settled and being thoroughly distracting, though not for long as you wrapped a hand around the base of his weeping cock, the head drooling precum.

He let out a muffled groan as you slowly began to stroke him, licking your hand to help ease your passage as you stroked him, soothing your thumb over the place where the barbells passed through his skin with ever stroke and teasing your fingers along the head, massaging the weeping slit teasingly with your index finger.

Terushima didn’t let you completely take control though, and the first swipe of his tongue made you jolt in surprise, the feel of that little piercing completely foreign as the smooth ball dragged across your sodden folds. It was like nothing you’d ever felt before, and you had the strangest feeling he might actually fulfill his promise of giving you the ride of a lifetime, as he dove in eagerly.

He lapped and sucked at the lips of your cunt, the slurping noises he was making utterly obscene as he held your hips firmly in place, keeping you still as he ate you out with enthusiasm and a skill you had to admit he was right to be proud of. Every stroke of his tongue lit your nerves on fire as he teased it around your clit, lightly flicking the sensitive bundle of nerves and varying up his strokes and the pressure with every swipe, enough to make your thighs tremble and to make you grateful you weren’t attempting to stand or you were sure your knees would’ve given out.

You weren’t about to let him take over entirely though, instead lowering your mouth to his cock and beginning to tease the weeping slit with your tongue as you continued to stroke him, flicking each of the barbell heads in turn and sucking at the sensitive ridge around the head.

The low moan he let out as you popped the head into your mouth and began to suck sent immediate vibrations to your drenched pussy, making you moan in turn, the feeling of it indescribable as he lapped at your folds sucking at the sensitive lips and thrusting his tongue into your weeping hole.

The feel of his piercings grazing against the roof of your mouth was a new one, but not unpleasant as you took as much of him into your mouth as you could, stroking what you couldn’t reach with one hand the other tracing light teasing circles with your thumb on his inner thigh.

Skilled fingers parted your lower lips as his tongue teased your clit, slipping one finger then two into your hole, making your walls flutter and clench around the intrusion. You moaned as he proved to be just as skilled with his fingers as you’d wondered earlier when you saw him playing his instrument, playing you just as skillfully with the perfect pressure, and movement to hit just right as he crooked his fingers into the soft tissue at the front of your passage that instantly had you seeing stars your whole body convulsing in his hold.

You completely lost track of what you were meant to be doing as you keened, his fingers refusing to let up as he continued to tease them in and out of your rippling passage, his tongue equally relentless. You weren’t sure if you were squirming to move towards him or further away as he carefully eased you back from your orgasm, though not letting you go completely, keeping you right on the edge of pleasure, your body hot and aching in his hold.

Once you managed to come back to your senses you could practically feel the smugness radiating off him as he continued to tease, startlingly considerate of your oversensitive clit, just enough stimulation to keep you worked up without being to painful.

You weren’t about to let him be too smug, instead turning back to what you were doing before, working him over, allowing your saliva to drool down over his cock to make the passage of your hand easier as you stroked him at the base.

Your other hand left his thigh and instead went to his balls, cupping and weighing the sensitive sack in your hand, gently massaging it earning an almost pained groan from Terushima, whose thighs you could see were clenched tightly, his muscles rippling under your torso as his body tightened in pleasure, his balls drawing upward in your hand letting you know how close he was getting.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, sexy I…!” he tried to interject, clearly attempting to warn you, surprisingly courteous as ever. He didn’t get a chance to finish though as you released his balls and slipped your hand lower, teasing your fingers lightly over his perineum as you sucked hard at his sensitive head, your thumb pressed firmly to his piercings in a move that made him keen with pleasure, his body practically arching off the bed as he came in your mouth.

You quickly swallowed every bit you could as you milked his cock rubbing and massaging at the glans as he continued to come, until you felt the last tiny spurt against your tongue, and the keening sounds he was making reduced to trembling whimpers.

You released him and wriggled away from his weakened grip so you could look at him, swiping some of the cum that had leaked from the corners of your mouth away with your thumb, and earning a low moan from Terushima, who watched with heavy lidded eyes as you licked it off.

“Fuck, you’re really asking for it little miss sexy,” he told you, his voice pitched low as he sat up, wiping his own glistening cheeks and chin, which were covered with your release on the back of his arm.

“Asking for what hot stuff?” you teased with a pleased smirk, one that was wiped off your face as he coiled and sprung, gently knocking into you so you pitched backwards on to the bed, his hands pinning your wrists on either side of your head as he peered down at you, his eyes burning with desire.

“Asking for me to make you scream my name,” he assured you with a smirk, “To fuck you so hard you can’t walk tomorrow.”

“You think you can Terushima?” you goaded, completely unphased at being pinned beneath him.

“Yuuji,” he informed you seriously nuzzling his face into your neck in a gesture that was surprisingly affectionate, though the wicked grin you could feel against your skin most certainly wasn’t as he clarified, “Call me Yuuji, little miss sexy, it’s only right for you to scream my first name.”

“Give me all you’ve got then hot stuff,” you challenged, earning a delighted smirk from the man, who pulled back to give you another searing kiss, clearly uncaring about the taste of himself in your mouth or sharing your own release with you.

Given how often he seemingly brought women home you weren’t at all surprised that he had a huge stash of condoms in the drawer of the nightstand of the bed, in all different textures and some in different flavors that made you highly amused. Though you didn’t stay that way for long as he expertly slid the condom on and approached, gently tugging you toward him and pulling one of your legs over his shoulder as he teased the head of his cock over your dripping entrance.

The feel of him as he entered you had your head lolling backwards, the angle he’d chosen ensuring he went deep, the feel of his piercings, that you could feel even through the condom, unlike anything you’d ever experienced before.

“Like that?” he teased as he seated himself deep inside you, his voice breathless but still teasing as he demanded, “Like the feel of my cock inside you sexy? You’re so fucking tight I can feel you squeezing me.”

“Fuck me, hot shot,” you ordered clenching around him deliberately, impatient after all his teasing, wanting to feel him move inside you, to know how his piercings would feel as they rubbed against your inner walls, as he fucked you.

“You asked for it,” he warned you, as he gave a sharp thrust of his hips, pulling a moan from your lips.

He didn’t bother to let you adjust more than that, drilling into you, setting a hard, fast past that left you gasping for breath, his cock stretching you deliciously, every movement rubbing his piercings along your insides. His tattooed fingers dug into your thigh as he held your leg over his shoulder.

“Feel so good, squeezing around me like that, you’re so fucking tight around my cock and so wet for me,” he praised, panting for breath as his dark gaze practically drilled into you, as he ground his hips into you, letting you feel every inch of him.

You hummed in agreement, your other leg wrapping around his hips, pulling him in close as your hips moved in time with his as you panted, your hands twisted in the comforter beside your head, unable to tear your eyes away from him, the ripple of muscle underneath his inked tattoos and the drops of sweat as they dripped down his neck and chest were utterly mesmerizing.

“Fuck me,” you gasped, “Fuck me!”

He paused in his movements slowly grinding himself into you making an inadvertent whine slip from your lips as he scolded, “I told you to call me Yuuji, let me hear you say my name.”

You might’ve chosen to deny him, but he’d dipped his other hand down, skilled fingers gently teasing your clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through you that had your walls fluttering around the hard cock buried to the hilt inside you. Pride warred with pleasure as your pussy ached, desperately wanting him to move again, to give you more of the heady friction and the feel of him moving deep inside you.

“Yuuji,” you relented your voice husky with desire and want, though you weren’t about to give in entirely, instead stretching your hand out for him and ordering, “Come here, Yuuji, kiss me.”

He immediately relented, leaning forward, taking your leg with him, your thigh pressed to your chest, his hips beginning to drive into you again so deep it took your breath away as he braced an elbow beside your head, the other cupping your face and holding you still so he could press his mouth to yours.

You moaned into his mouth wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you clung to him, savoring the feel of his hot skin beneath your hands as your fingers dug into the muscle of his back.

“Ah fuck,” Terushima hissed as he pulled away from your mouth, arching into your hands, his hips jolting hard as you dug your nails into his back. You would’ve felt sorry about it, but the look in his eyes told you clearly that he’d enjoyed the little bit of pain, his hips stuttering as you carefully raked them downwards.

“Do you like that Yuuji?” you purred into his ear, nipping at his jaw.

“Not as much as you like this,” he countered, utterly breathless as he thrust into you hard, the feel of it making you mewl in pleasure, “Like it rough, don’t you little miss sexy?”

“Just as much as you,” you managed to retort, utterly breathless, earning a huffed laugh from him, as he leaned forward to catch your lips in another sloppy kiss.

The lewd sound of your hips as they met, breathless moans and quiet swearing filled the air between you as Terushima worked his hips deep into you, his free hand slipping between the two of you to tease your clit again, as you yanked on his hair, unafraid now to be a little more rough with him the way he was with you, his teeth sinking into your neck in retaliation, earning a yelping moan from you.

“Yuuji, Yuuji,” you gasped, feeling yourself pushed towards your peak, the coil in your belly pulling tight as you dug your fingers into his shoulders, clinging to him for all you were worth.

“Fuck yes,” he panted, his voice a low rasp, clear strain in every word eyes locked on yours, “Give it to me sexy, let me see you come on my cock.”

You did as he asked your walls clamping down hard on him, a gasping cry pulled from your lips as he buried his face in your neck, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he chased his own end, clearly right on the edge himself. He gave a shuddering, moaning gasp into your ear as he came, his cock throbbing inside you and prolonging your own release.

For several long moments the two of you lay locked together, your hands absently stroking his hair as he rested nearly the entirety of his weight on you, the two of you desperately attempting to catch your breath.

Eventually he pressed a thankful kiss to your cheek, a surprisingly affectionate gesture before rolling off, quickly disposing of the condom in the small trash can by the bed, one no doubt specifically for that purpose.

You were a little surprised when right after taking care of it he immediately rolled back over to you, slinging a hot arm around your waist and pulling you close. You’d had one night stands who liked to cuddle a bit in the afterglow, and were feeling pretty good yourself, so you didn’t mind a bit, letting him pull you close and stroke his hand up and down your back.

Neither of you said anything, simply basking in comfortable silence and each other’s presence. However, after a few moments you noted his breath had evened out and his hand had stilled. Carefully propping yourself up on your elbow you noted with some amusement that he’d passed out.

It was understandable, frankly after how high energy the concert had been it was a little shocking that he’d had enough energy afterwards for this. A part of you wondered what he’d be like when he had a bit more energy to devote to things, after all this had been one of if not the best one night stand you’d ever had and definitely in your top ten for sex. However, you quickly shook that thought away.

You spent several moments trying to decide if you wanted to let your own eyes shut and doze off for a while, but in the end decided to carefully extract yourself from his grip, figuring it was less awkward to sneak off now than to potentially be kicked out by Terushima, or worse Hana or Anabara in the morning.

It took a second to find your clothes, and in the end you didn’t bother with your panties, instead dropping the garment into the same trash he’d used to dispose of the condom, before slipping on the rest of your clothes. A quick glance around proved you hadn’t forgotten anything and you took one last glance at Terushima, who was sleeping peacefully on the bed.

You felt strangely bittersweet about leaving him, as you’d actually liked him, far more than you’d expected. Still, you weren’t stupid, and with everything you’d heard and seen from him you knew you were just one girl in a never ending parade of girls who’d grace his bed. Quietly you slipped out of the trailer, letting the door close softly behind you so you wouldn’t wake him.

It had gotten cooler since you’d been outside last, a nice breeze springing up that raised goosebumps on your exposed skin. It felt nice, and with the moon full and bright overhead you weren’t worried about losing your way as you quietly made your way back towards the concert venue, knowing you’d be able to find your car fairly easily from there.

“Where are you headed off to?” a quiet voice asked, the suddenness of it nearly making you jump out of your skin.

You whirled around, heart racing in your chest, only to find the leader of Terushima’s band Okudake holding his hands up in clear surrender, an apologetic look on his face. You let out a relieved breath clutching a hand over your still racing heart, glad to see it was someone you knew, if only vaguely.

“Sorry about that,” he told you sheepishly, “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“It’s alright,” you assured him, “I just didn’t expect to see anyone out here.”

“Me neither,” he admitted with a wry chuckle, “But where are you off to? It isn’t safe for a young lady to be out by herself this late.”

“I’m uh, heading back to my car,” you confessed sheepishly, wondering if he knew he sounded like your parent.

“Terushima should’ve at least walked you,” he told you with a disapproving frown, “he’s usually more courteous than this.”

“It’s alright,” you hurriedly assured him, feeling more than a bit awkward as you admitted, “He’s asleep.”

“Ah,” he told you, the single word letting you know that he knew exactly what you were doing, sneaking off without confrontation, though he didn’t comment, instead offering, “Then at least let me walk you? I’ll feel better knowing you aren’t alone.”

“Ah sure,” you agreed, a little baffled but touched by his kindness.

“So what did you think of the show?” he asked casually as the two of you made your way toward the stage.

“It was amazing,” you assured him with a grin, utterly sincere, “the energy was off the charts and the songs were all incredible.”

“You didn’t think there were too many songs about love and heartbreak?” he asked, watching you from the corner of his eye. He clearly read the startled expression on you face because he quickly explained, “We’ve been told we have too many songs about it considering the genre of our group is more rock and our image is harder.”

“I don’t think so,” you assured him, you hadn’t really noticed before but now that he said it you did remember a lot of songs about heartbreak, “I think heartbreak is a pretty universal feeling, so there’s nothing wrong with having lots of songs about it. It’s not something that should be limited to things like genre.”

“I agree,” he told you with a firm nod, “Though I think it would be nice to sing about happiness in love once in a while.”

“So why don’t you?” you asked curious, wondering if this was another issue with love and happiness being the opposite of the more hardcore image they presented.

“Terushima is our main song writer,” he explained, surprising you quite a bit, “And he refuses to write from anything but his own experiences.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” he hastily assured you, “We’re grateful to have him. Before Terushima we were a little Podunk band that was going absolutely nowhere. He’s a big reason why Johzenji is getting so popular, even if he does have his difficult moments at heart he’s a good guy that has done a lot for us.”

“Why are you telling me this?” you asked slowly, feeling a little bit like you were being led into a trap and wondering if you were about to be attacked the way Hana had snapped at you earlier.

“Because Hana told me what happened earlier and I think she might’ve given you the wrong impression,” he explained sheepishly, “Don’t get me wrong, I love her, and she’s an amazing woman but she and Terushima have never quite seen eye to eye.”

“What do you mean?” you questioned utterly baffled about where he was trying to take this.

“I mean from the outside looking in I bet it does look like Terushima’s a player, the last kind of guy you’d ever want to have any sort of relationship with, the kind who only wants women around for a night,” he told you, heaving a sigh and staring up at the night sky, “But it isn’t true at all.”

“Terushima just falls in love far too easily,” he continued, clearly seeing the skeptical expression on your face, “He feels connections with people, latches on, and doesn’t want to let go. Other than the women who’ve snuck out, not a single woman has ever left his bed without his phone number even the ones who really shouldn’t have gotten it.”

“So what he’s a closet romantic?” you asked unable to help the slight sarcasm in your tone, biting back against the pointed comment about you sneaking out without letting Terushima know.

“Something like that,” Okudake agreed, completely unbothered by the bite in your voice, “But more importantly I wanted you to know he likes you, genuinely.”

“If he’s such a romantic, then why doesn’t he have a partner already?” you pointed out, your head unwilling to believe him, even as your heart desperately wanted to.

“Mostly because he has abysmal taste in women,” Okudake informed you bluntly.

“Thanks,” you drawled, sarcastically.

“No,” he hastily assured you, clearly a little flustered, “Normally Terushima only chooses women who want to use him for something or another, either because of his fame or his looks. Hana was rude to you earlier, but she did have good reason to be suspicious of any woman Terushima brought backstage as they’ve been pretty trashy pretty much every single time.”

“But Hana likes you this time,” he charged on, clearly determined to get it all out, “And she’s always had good taste. I think the two of you could be good together if you wanted to give it a shot, and it would be nice to have Terushima write something that isn’t about heartbreak for once.”

“So what you want me to put a leash on your bass player?” you asked skeptically.

“No, I’m telling you he likes you, not just as a one night stand, but as a potential partner, so you know the option is there,” he explained patiently, “And because I think you like him too.”

His words stopped you in your tracks, and you wanted to snap at him, demand to know how he could just assume that as he couldn’t have seen you with Terushima for more than five minutes max. However you also knew he was right, you did like Terushima, a lot, you’d felt a connection to him too, and you really hadn’t wanted to leave. You’d just assumed he’d kick you out if you didn’t.

Now though his bandmate was saying something entirely different, insisting that Terushima was looking for more than a one night stand. The question was, did you believe him and if you did was it worth trying.

You stared at the sky hoping it could give you some kind of answer as Okudake watched and waited patiently. Thinking about it, all you could see was his face, the flash of cocky smirk, the sweet boyish grin, and the intensity in his eyes when he looked at you. He was flirty and confident and surprisingly respectful and sweet and your sexual compatibility was off the charts.

The more you thought about it the more you realized you were more than a bit infatuated with him. The only question now was what you were going to do about it. The thought of walking away now made your heart ache, and you’d never been a coward, so you heaved a breath, turned to Okudake and asked, “Can you take me back to Terushima’s trailer?”

The lead singer smiled kindly at you, and thankfully didn’t comment, simply turned around and led the way, wishing you a quiet but genuine good luck, and inviting you to have breakfast with the band in the morning.

Slipping into the trailer, you’d half planned to simply slip back into bed with Terushima, who you fully expected to find conked out on the bed. Instead you found him sat at the edge of the bed, his head in his hands, fingers buried in his blond hair, defeat and despondency in every line of his body. A part of you had kind of doubted what Okudake had said before, but looking at him now you thought maybe he’d been telling the truth after all.

The sound of the door as it clicked closed behind you made Terushima’s head jolt up, an utterly miserable expression on his face until his eyes focused on you, misery quickly replaced with befuddled awe, like he couldn’t quite believe you were standing in front of him.

“Hey, hot shot,” you greeted softly, unsure what to say, but needing to break the silence.

“Hey,” he returned, attempting to give you a cocky smirk, though the expression fell flat, “You forget something?”

“Can I come in?” you asked, gently, relieved when he gestured for you to help yourself.

You quickly slid your sandals off and made your way to the bed, not bothering to sit on it, but instead sinking to your knees in front of him, earning a surprised look. You reached for his hands and he gave them easily, twining his fingers through yours.

“So a little birdie told me I might’ve made some assumptions about you that I shouldn’t have,” you admitted, peering into his face.

“Oh yeah?” he asked, watching you carefully, “What kind of assumptions?”

“Like maybe you weren’t just looking to hook-up with a stranger for a one night stand tonight,” you confessed, feeling a bit anxious but doing your best to hide it, “Like maybe you weren’t trying to use ridiculous lines one me and maybe you really did feel a connection.”

“Is that why you ditched me before I could even ask for your number?” he asked with a huff of that was probably supposed to be a laugh but sounded surprisingly painful, “Because you thought I was looking for another notch in my belt?”

“Yeah,” you admitted guiltily, heart squeezing in your chest.

“It’s my fault,” he confessed tiredly, “I should know better by now than to jump right into bed with the people who catch my attention, but I thought if I could show you how good we could be, then you might want to stick around. Stupid huh?”

“I could’ve talked to you too,” you consoled then gently teased, “The sex was pretty good though.”

“What are you saying, it was fucking mind-blowing,” he smirked, regaining some of his cocky demeanor.

“Eh, I’ve had better,” you told him, earning a surprisingly cute pout from the bass player.

“Then I guess you’ll have to stick around for a while, so I can show you what I can really do,” he proposed casually, though you could see the tentative hope in his eyes.

“I guess I’d better,” you agreed with a grin, “Though on one condition.”

“Name it,” he agreed eagerly.

“I want a proper date,” you told him, “And your phone number.”

“That’s two conditions little miss sexy,” he teased, his eyes alight with desire and a surprising amount of affection, “But I suppose I can agree if you call me by my name again and agree to be my girlfriend.”

“It’s a deal Yuuji,” you agreed, leaning up to press an affectionate kiss to his lips, one he accepted eagerly, you pulled away before the two of you could get carried away grinning at him like an idiot, well aware that he really should be asleep.

It took a bit, but the two of you managed to get settled into bed together again after you re-shed your clothes, cuddled up close, with Terushima laying half on top of you claiming it was so you couldn’t run off on him again. You’d huffed, but allowed it, enjoying the proximity and his warmth.

He was quick to doze off again, face pressed into your neck, and you found yourself drifting too, contemplating just how lucky you were to have found him, and looking forward to what the future might bring.

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[zaenight]

WANHEDA // COMMANDER OF DEATH BRANDON CARVER CHAPTER 2

Tw:small Spicy scene👹

The group had found a small compound that they called home,it wasn't much but it would do for now.

They named themselves the reapers,usually clad in mask and black oufits.

Cordelia either went with Leah and Carver,or watched Matthew and tended to wounds.

although she herself prefered war paint over the mask her companions wore.

Anyways........

Cordelia Layed in a makeshift bed reading a book she found on a run.

The bed shifted slowly as Carver kissed her bare back,her tattoos on display as he traced the patterns.

The tattoos were a shock to some who didn't know the eighteen year old doctor,lets just say they were usaully walked in on by their comrads who usually left with Carver threatening to kill them.

*Cough* Bossie and Turner*Cough*.

As Cordelia turned around Carver captured her lips in a kiss which soon turned into a heavy make out session.

Cordelia softly moaned as Carver trailed kisses down her stomach and the inside of thighs.

As the couple were about to go into pound town the door slammed open.

"What the fuck man!" Brandon exclaimed,while he covered himself and Cordelia.

"OH GOD!" bossie yelled covering his eyes,before stammering and running out of the room that Pope asked for them and Leah to go on a run.

Brandon muttered curses under his breath before kissing Cordelia's neck.

"We're continuing this later." He said smirking.

Cordelia laughed as the two got dressed and the two made their way to the gates

were leah awaited.

The three in Black oufits with hoods,Carver and Leah wore mask that covered their face,While Cordelia wore black warpaint across her eyes with small designs here and there.

Carrying her Bow and a bag of medical supplies she passed by Matthew and viola who were being chased by Powell and Mancea who were stuck babysiting.

She shook her head with a small smile making her way to her sister and husband,who wrapped a arm around her waist.

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

The three went into a small town going in and out of stores grabbing food and medical supplies.

Pope had told them to kill anyone on sight,as days went by the man grew colder and crueler,although he saw them as his children,his favorite being leah and Cordelia.

But Cordelia knew one day the man would cause some of their deaths one day.

All of a sudden a hoarde of over thirty rotters came,The three managing to get into a small shop huddling together.

Carver gripped his wife's shoulder as one of the rotters came by the door.

The rotter looked freshly turned,almost slaming open the glass door before stammering away.

Until a groan alearted the three and Two rotters snarled launching at them.

Carver stabbed one in the head as Leah shot the other,which attracted the hoarde.

Cordelia gripped her dagger as Carver and Leah grabbed their weopons,they got enough food and essentials,the dead ones were the only thing standing in their way.

The hoarde got distraced as a Deer came out of the Wooded area near the shops, the three got ready to leave while the rotters were still distracted.

Cordelia saw the ones they killed and got an Idea,She kneeled down with her dagger and gutted them rubbing blood over herself,Carver and leah followed soon after.

"Never in a million years did I think I would be covered in guts and fighting for my life." Cordelia said as they slowly went out the door.

"And yet here we are." Leah stated.

"Yeah,now lets get the hell out of here." Carver said,looking to see if any  rotters followed.

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

They made their way back to the small compound,as they entered Matthew hugged Leah and waved at Carver and Cordelia,Viola barked as her tail wagged as Carver petted her.

(its gonna be so funny because dog bites him in the future lmao.)

He ran his hand through his hair that was slowly growng out,soon wrapping his arm around Cordelia who kissed his cheek.

luckily the three had no injuries,and explained why they were covered in Blood and guts.

---------

Cordelia and Brandon stood in the shower,thank god they found a place with running water, the blood and guts rinsing off.

As the two finished up they Laughed walking outside to the small bonfire that the guys had made,grabbing one of the many cans of soup they luckily found.

She sat in his lap as The two talked to Leah who held Matthew,Viola layed next to their feet her tail wagging slowly.

It was always like this,they sat and ate while Pope started a speech about God and how he chose us.

No one dared objected his theories,afraid of his anger.

And no one would admit it but the only one who scared them more than Pope was Cordelia.

Don't underestimate her,don't test her and don't tempt her fury,there will be hell to pay if you do.

She smiled softly as Carver kissed her head,The two making Matthew laugh with silly jokes and faces.

Cordelia was probably the only person to get Carver to Show his true self,Happy,kind and a jokester,instead of a grade A cocky asshole.

But the one thing about him was that he was Loyal and fierce,and would do anything to protect his Family.

And all hell would break loose if Cordelia were to get hurt or die,he would go on a rampage and kill what ever stood in his path,Leah would be the second person who would do anything drastic if her baby sister died.

Those two would do anything if Cordelia was Harmed,you better run and hide because if you lay a hand on her,you'll be dead and never see the next day.

And for that the group was thankful Cordelia always came back Breathing.

As the couple said their goodnights,they walked into their room,the door slamming shut as Cordelia wrapped her legs around his waist.

Brandon took off his shirt,softly throwing her on the makeshift bed and getting on top kissing her lips.

"Now where were we before we were were interupted Beautiful." Brandon said,their eyes full of lust and love.

And with that their room was filled with grunts and soft soft moans.

--------

A/n:

(Not gonna lie they should have showed the reapers more,and keep some alive instead of killing them all,would hsve loved to see more of their skills,and pope was waisted potential,Carver was like the daryl of the reapers,Loyal and would do anything for them, Him and negan could have been a great comedic duo,Would have liked to see Leah have a friendship with Carol and Connie,they could have got a redemtion ark.)

[jangofctts]

Ma’am I’m dying out here. It’s always “Void will wreck you in the fresher” and “Void has the third best stroke game of the squad” but never “Here I wrote a lil blurb of Void wrecking your shit”

Please I need we need it

smH YOURE RIGHT IVE BEEN DENYING YALL KJEKEJH

ct-7775 void // fem!reader

warnings: shower sex 

You’re not quite sure when this became a regular occurrence--a couple months ago you think. Sorta like date night, except in the fresher...naked and undoubtedly against regulations. That’s what makes it fun you suppose--a little late night thrill.   

Not like anyone would find you, you specifically chose time slots around midnight so you’d have the entire fresher block to yourself--an ingenious idea and totally worth waking up with wet hair in the morning. You just--well you didn't expect someone else to have the same idea. Safe to say it was a little jarring to cross paths naked and afraid, soaped up and scrambling for a towel with Sunburst squadron’s finest and only medic. Void. 

To be fair, he hadn't even seen you. It was the end of your shift, tunnel vision on one thing, and one thing only. A nice hot fresher and certainly not a naked you. 

With neither of you willing to budge and shuffle around schedules, you came to the brilliant conclusion that you could both shower at the same times--just so long as you both kept your eyes to yourselves. Funny how that rule barely lasted two weeks.    

Safe to say, it’s been the best sex you’ve ever had. And all done in a fresher for kriff’s sake. 

Once or twice every week you have Void all to yourself--that permanent scowl and grumpy mannerisms washing away with the flow of water and the warmth of your skin. A completely different man--one briefly unburdened with the weight of keeping his brothers alive and well just to send them off to battle the next day. You don’t mind being his distraction--as fleeting as it may be.   

Tonight is no different as the solid line of his body slips in behind you, filling in the limited amount of space left in the tiny space. And you mean tiny. You can move without challenging your flexibility or banging your elbows and knees against the walls.

The touch of Void’s palm over your ribcage pulls a pleased sigh from your lungs. His fingers tickle up your shoulder blade and sweeps your hair, plastered to the nape of your neck, to the side. “Let me see you...”

You turn without hesitation, giggling as Void’s hand cups your cheek, his thumbs jumping up to smooth down your eyebrows and wick away the rivulets of water. Before you have the chance to greet him, Void tugs you forward into a deep, toe-curling kiss, shuddering as the cool durasteel of the wall touches your back. You break away and place your palm over his cheek. leans into your palm and smiles as your thumb lands right over the little blue dot tattooed onto his cheek.

“How was it today?”

“Sweets got a splinter and Fuse burned himself playing with matches again.” Void grumbles, sliding his other hand up to cup one of your breasts. He pinches your nipple and rolls it between his forefinger and thumb, plucking out a gasp from your parted lips. “All I could think about was you--always distractin’ me.”  

You roll your eyes. “Boohoo--baby is distracted by my tits. You’re lucky I like you.”  

Void buries his face into the crook of your neck, nips at your ear and hooks his arm around your waist. “Mhm. If I accidentally kill someone, s’because of you.”  

You slide your fingers through his hair, a bit long once it’s wet and free from his headband--you give the strands a playful jostle. Void tilts his head, skims his lips over the line of jaw and steals another kiss--when he pulls away he hesitates here for a moment--simply drinking in the shape of you, every freckle and little wrinkle, grafting it into his memory for eternity. It’s a two way mirror however--

The bags under his eyes, like two swaths of purpling bruisers, are worse than last week and Maker--do they ever give this man a break? “Void--when’s the last time you slept?”

He blinks rapidly and shoves his head back into the crux of your shoulder to avoid your scrutiny. “Don’t worry about it.”

You frown. You’ll push him about it later, because right now? He’s trailing tiny, addicting kisses from your shoulder up to your ear, your blood already singing even though the chaste pecks border innocent. You gasp as those kisses morph into nips, sucking sure to be bruises into the flesh, marking you just below the line of where the collar of your uniform ends.

The arm around your waist skims further down, grabbing a handful of your ass and roughly squeezing.  You whimper, curling further into his hold as liquid heat races from the pit of your stomach and outward to each and every limb. He worms his muscled thigh between your legs, pinning you further against the wall, the hand on your ass snaking back to massage tiny circles over your thigh. You whimper and thread your fingers into the wet strands of his hair, arching into his chest.

“Fuck--you’re a vision,” Void pants, “So beautiful.”  

He moans low in the back of his throat as your hand gently encompasses his cock, thick and swelling to its full length in your palm. “I could say the same about you, handsome.”

 Void shudders and sags into your hold, huffing out curses and roughly parting your thighs further apart. You whine and press your head into the wall as he hikes your thigh up and around his hip. He then slides two of those thick, calloused fingers pass over your clit, throbbing and aching to be touched. Your own slick mixed with the aide of the water let the two digits glide with ease over your lips, rocking down to circle your clenching entrance then back to lightly trace the little bundle of nerves.

His cock jumps in your grip as you whine his name, needy and desperate as you roll your palm up and down his cock. He curses under his breath, and bites your earlobe. “You want me to fuck you, sweetheart?”

You groan as he pushes a finger into your cunt, the muscles squeezing around him for just a shred of pleasure. “Yes--please, Void--fuck me.”

“Such a filthy mouth.” He chastises with a dark chuckle.

You groan out your frustration as you roll your hips, your nails digging into his bicep to pull him closer. He must take pity on your squirming, pathetic display as he abruptly extracts his finger and drops your thigh. 

Your stomach drops as your bare feet slip off the tiles, yet the heavy muscled weight of Void’s chest pinning you forward saves you from landing ass over heels. He’s stronger than he looks, a fact you’re confronted with as he scoops your knee over his elbow and squishing you further into the wall. “Careful, mesh’la--wouldn’t want a trip to med bay, now would we?”  

You swear and dig you nails into his shoulder, slippery from the water. He grips his cock in one hand and slides the thick head over the wet slit of your cunt, the tip of him catching against your dripping entrance.

You jerk and press your hips back. “V-Void…”

Your breath catches in your throat as the very tip of him, searing hot and harder than tempered steel, pushes into you. It feels the same with each time he fucks you, that pinch and fluttering panic low in your stomach that he’s too big. You squirm and whine as he rocks his hips forward, the little motions seating him deeper into your greedy center. Maker— you think it’ll go on forever, with no room to accommodate him.

“There you go,” he babbles, his breathing a mess of pitchy moans and praise, muffled by the spray of water. “Fuck—such a good girl. Taking it all.”

You shiver despite the temperature of the water, twitching in his hold as the narrow dip of his waist slots against your cunt. Your name flows past his lips, the enamel of his teeth tugging at the fragile skin lining the base of your neck.

Stars— your thoughts are pulverized into dust with the first tentative rolls of his hips. There’s no buildup to the pace he sets or patience as his fingers dig into your ass while the other anchors to the wall. 

It’s a ridiculously short amount of time, you think, as your orgasm creeps down each vertebrae, your cunt clamping down on his cock tighter than a fucking vice. One last roll against your clit and you’re done for. So fucking gone.    

The edges of your entire universe drop off into some unknown mystery--bursts of white light igniting behind your eyelids as you're brought over the edge.

“Shit—get so fucking wet when you cum,” Void snarls. “And tight. S-so fucking tight.”

You’re not allowed to float down from your high, not until he also reaches his end. Until then you’re forced through the rough scrap of the last dregs of your pleasure, his abdomen scraping agains your throbbing clit. The loud, wet slaps of his hips meeting your cunt echoes in the tiny space, accentuates every hitched moan and sharp whimper. Void’s hand slips off the wall and buries it into your hair at the base of your skull, tugging sharply as your core clenches around his cock.

“M’close,” he pants, his breath humid against your skin. “Can I—fuck--can I cum in you?”

You nod with a shuddering whine. 

Your nerves burn as you slip your own hand down to toy with your clit, a simple brush over the nerves and your careening off the edge again. Your cries are a jumble of incomprehensible babbles--the only thing you manage to latch onto is his name. 

With a dangerously loud curse, Void’s bruising pace quickens, frantic as he chases his own release. Void’s hips stutter, the hand in your hair tightening into a fist as his teeth embed themselves over your shoulder. With one—two last thrusts of his hips, he cums. Ropes of his release coats your insides, throbbing and twitching until he’s spent, left with the ambiance of quick panting and the trickle of water.

Stars, you can’t fucking think.  

With a grunt he stumbles back as much as he can in the limited space, the absence of his cock leaving his cum to dribble out and slip down the inside of your thigh. You’re still squeezing your eyes shut, jittery and unable to move from your current spot without the risk of stumbling to your knees.

Void dips his head and steals a kiss, dragging his tongue deep into your mouth. He groans and keeps you here, leading you through soft kisses and a careful dance of something more than just a simple fuck in a fresher. You’re not sure if you’re allowed to breach that gentle space between you—grasp something tangible with uncertain promises and stolen minutes as sunlight fills the space between your heart and lungs.

He kisses your cheek, breaking away before either of you slip and tumble into uncharted territory. Another time maybe—not in the middle of a war and certainly not in a communal shower.

“Thank you,” he murmurs. And it’s enough—it has to be enough.

[mehbzz]

Home

I had the sudden urge to try and write some hurt/comfort TLC with our A/B/O chocobros.  An impulsive bit of writing that probably needs some editing but it fulfilled my itch! SFW, maybe 2 lines of mild suggestiveness. Just some snuggles and love. 

You had dreamt about home. You had woken with an odd mix of guilt and sadness that had eventually dissipated and left you feeling muted and distant. You were aware you were bringing up the idea of getting home less often, and thinking about it even less so and whether by design or by accident your pack were also rather quiet on the subject. The fact that you had started internally thinking of them as your pack added another burst of guilt to your already fraught emotions. You knew the sadness was there, but you couldn’t feel it, couldn’t feel much of anything that morning except a hazy cloud of brooding disinterest. Of course the boys had noticed immediately, the lack of privacy for your own feelings souring your mood further and after your fifth snapped response to their pestering they had quietly backed off. The day had passed in a majority of uncomfortable silence, you being dragged along with one alpha or another as they finished up whatever business they had in town.  

You were all now sat in the diner around the corner from the hotel. You were staring blankly out the window at nothing, fiddling absentmindedly with your napkin. Gladio had ordered for you, after you had shaken your head silently at the waitress.  Not really caring what he had asked for but the plate that was put in front of you had been a pleasant surprise. You weren’t aware Gladio paid that much attention to your eating habits but seeing your favourite food in front of you sent a small wave of grateful happiness through your low mood. “Thank you” your words are quiet and you offered him a small smile when he locked eyes with you. “You need to eat it all” his words are gruff and if you didn’t know better you’d think there was a light pink tinge to his cheeks. Before you can muster up the energy to tease him Prompto is pushing into your side. “You gotta try this” Holding up what looks like a fry dipped in his milkshake you eye it warily. “No thanks?” “Come on! Trust me it’s -”, a cough from Ignis has him lowering his offering in disappointment. “Aw man, you don’t know what you’re missing out on” He remains close to your side as you go back to your own food. You don’t feel particularly hungry but you can feel Gladio and Ignis watching you and you don’t have the energy to argue. You must have zoned out again as Ignis soft call of your name startles you. “Noctis is having trouble with his back this evening”, he repeats, “We were discussing delaying our trip for a day” You glance at Noct and you know immediately that’s it’s a lie but you don’t care enough to point it out or to wonder what they are up to this time. You shrug. “Ok” “A day off will do us all good” Ignis continues, watching you intently as he speaks but you just nod and give another quiet ok in response.

“It’ll be fun!” Prompto swivels back to you “I can show you some of the cool shots I got yesterday, there’s a couple of really funny ones of Noct when he – “ Noctis cuts him off with a low warning growl and you can’t help but smile at the playful threat. Prompto raises his hands in mock surrender before turning back to you. “First photos I’ll show you” he whispers before he continues his plan for the day. “Just chillin with some trashy TV and a pile of junk food,” he pauses and glances at Ignis, “uh, right Iggy?” Ignis stares at him before sighing “I will pick something up on the way back to the hotel” “Great!” Prompto’s enthusiasm is infectious and you find yourself nodding along as he continues his ideas for the day. Leaving Ignis to sort out the bill the rest of you start a slow walk back to the hotel. With Prompto and Noctis walking in front of you still arguing over whatever embarrassing pictures he had on his camera, you feel a little happier than you did before your meal but you still feel tense and oddly exposed, even with Gladio walking next to you. He steps closer, wrapping an arm round your waist to bring you tight into his side. He doesn’t say anything, which you are incredibly grateful for, just leans down to press a lingering kiss to your temple. Smothered into his side makes all your senses scream ‘safe’ and relaxing into his hold you are back at your hotel room before you know it. With another kiss he pushes you through the door with a sharp smack to your backside. He laughs at your reaction and lets his hand linger on your ass as he guides you in to the middle of the room. “Shoes off” The way he kneels down in front of you sends a mild buzz of arousal through you, which he notices, because of course he does, and he winks at you as you place your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. “I think you like me down here” With your shoes off his hands glide up your legs to the button of your jeans and you roll your eyes in mock annoyance. “I can take my own jeans off” he ignores your comment and instead places a quick kiss to your stomach as he yanks the fabric down your legs.

Your protest turns into a yelp as Gladio hoists you up over his shoulder to deposit you unceremoniously on his bed. “Get comfy” your disappointment as you watch him walk into the bathroom is short lived as Noctis and Prompto instantly try to snuggle you down into the mattress with them. Your hiss of annoyance is half-hearted and they both ignore it. Noct slipping straight into his favourite position at your side, head resting against your chest while Prompto grabs the remote to the TV before laying his head in your lap. Noct’s usual technique at comforting you was an unusual method of ‘bothering you until you pet him’ rather than outright affection but the way he was purring softly as you ran your fingers through his hair was actually calming, you had to admit. And the knowledge of the little huff he would have afterwards when he noticed the state of his hair added a small boost of amusement to your mood. Although the way he noses at your nipple through your shirt has you groaning in slight annoyance. “Not now Noct.” You can practically hear the whine building up in his throat but he doesn’t push you further, just shifts until his head is resting comfortably on your chest.

The sound of the TV and Noct’s gentle purring lulls you in to a drowsy peaceful state. Prompto quiet murmur of your name has your attention drawn back to him. He wants to say something or ask you something, you can tell from the sudden flux of nervousness in his scent and you brace yourself.  Instead he presses a quick kiss to your thigh that surprises a giggle out of you so he does it again. “I’m glad you’re here” his words are quiet, whispered against your skin in-between his kisses but the sincerity in them is obvious and you bite your lip to stop yourself from crying. “You are too, right?” His question hurts, and your thoughts from the morning come rushing back to you. You were glad, but the guilt at feeling like that was overpowering at times.  You hum noncommittally in response, not trusting yourself to answer. Noct obviously notices your distress and his hand squeezes your hip briefly before reaching down to smack Prompt lightly on the head “noisy” he grumbles “I’m trying to watch this” Gladio’s emergence from the bathroom and rumbled demand of ‘move’ distracts Prompto from making whatever snappy reply he had, and instead he moves with a pout, clambering over you to sit behind Noct. As you move from under Noctis’ weight, Gladio is not even completely down before you are curling up into his side. “Where’s Ignis?” you can’t stop your hand from trailing over his bare chest, tracing over the edge of his tattoo lightly. “Probably talking to the hotel clerk, he'll be here soon.” Gladio’s hand slips up under your t-shirt to rest on your ribs and you shiver, trying to push yourself closer. His fingers tracing small circles into your skin “Relax baby, daddy’s got you” the word is new, and you do your best to ignore the way it makes your stomach flutter. He doesn’t complain as you hook your leg over his, content to let you wriggle and shift until you are comfortable, half lying on top of him. “Better?” You nod against his chest and he raises his hand to start stroking through your hair, mimicking your earlier position with Noct. “You’re allowed be happy“ Gladio’s words whispered into your hair take you by surprise  and you bury your face further into his chest to try and hide your sudden rush of tears. He says nothing further and the quiet as he continues to stroke your hair is surprisingly soothing, the only noise over your quiet sniffles is the slight creak of the bed as Noctis and Prompto try to subtly move closer to you, offering you comfort and warmth against your back without saying a word. You must have dozed off after a while as the next thing you are aware of is the soft press of Ignis lips against your forehead. He sits on the edge of the bed next to Gladio’s quietly snoring form and the concern in his expression makes tears prick at your eyes again. He moves slightly, his hand brushing away a stray tear from your cheek. "Talk to me?" he asks softly. You’re silent for a few long seconds, not sure if you can explain your mess of thoughts and emotions well enough for him to understand

"I don’t…” your breath hitches and you try to swallow around the lump in your throat, “I don’t think about it much anymore” Its vague, and you don’t say any more, don’t clarify what you mean but Ignis seems to understand you. “Whether you do or don’t, it’s Ok, we still love you“ He brushes away another tear. He cups your face gently, and you turn into his touch with a shaky sigh. The outright acceptance of your jumbled emotions that you receive from the four of them is unsettling in the best way. You feel loved, and the tears begin anew at the realisation. In your own world, with your own family, you had never felt this level of belonging and acceptance. The guilt that maybe you didn’t actually want to return there was still prevalent, but felt less sharp than it had done.   The look of alarm across Ignis face at your fresh tears makes you smile in faint amusement. “I’m ok” he looks doubtful at your claim and you fight back the mild hysterical urge to laugh  “I am, Ignis, truly I am”. You swallow, wrestling your emotions back under some semblance of control and kiss his palm. “It’s just,” you hesitate “a lot. I’m not used to,” you gesture loosely between you “this” you give him a genuine smile this time, “but it’s getting easier” ‘This’ was a poor descriptor for describing the bond you felt as part of the pack. But Ignis seemed to know what you meant. He stills looks a little concerned but he leans down to kiss you, “You’re our omega” he reminds you. The possessive lilt to his words sends a happy shiver through you and you hum into his kiss in agreement.

Feeling vulnerable but a lot more stable, the adrenaline from the whiplash of emotions over the day has left you feeling restless and fills you with the sudden childish desire to annoy the man sleeping beneath you. You flick your finger sharply across Gladio’s nipple, snickering quietly at his sleepy annoyed grunt and at Ignis’ look of bemusement. He stands with an almost audible roll of his eyes just as you are considering biting down on the nipple closest to you. “I won’t protect you from the consequences of whatever foolish action you are thinking of taking” He watches as you bite your lip in thought before he turns away with a small huff of amusement “Those two are a bad influence on you”

“Hey,” as if summoned by the promise of trouble Prompto stirs behind you, poking you in your side. You twist in Gladio’s tight hold to try and look at him. “Noct is asleep” he gives you a mischievous grin and you respond automatically with a smile of your own even though you don’t know what he’s planning “wanna see those photos now?”

[bobathirstaccount]

This or That

Boba x fem!reader x Din, Fennec shows up for some girl talk, smut, some romance/ plot

You are stuck in a love triangle with two Mandalorians. Maybe a threesome will help you sort your feelings out?

***

Mando brushed past you, reaching out a hand to touch you softly. You smiled to yourself and readjusted in your hammock. You felt Boba’s eyes on you, but didn’t acknowledge him. Sometimes he was too much. “Dinner?” Mando asked, holding up three meal packs. You both nodded, so he tossed one to Boba and handed yours to you. He sat down in another hammock to eat. Boba leaned back against the wall, taking a break from soldering whatever he was working on. You swung in your hammock and ate quietly.

You felt the tension bubbling underneath the bounds of propriety. You thought about them both. Mando was soft, kind. He was always checking in with you, making sure you were okay. The way he lingered around you spoke for itself. There was something else he wanted, but he didn’t know how to admit it. Boba was harder, but kind in his own way. Older. He knew what he wanted and wasn’t afraid to go after it. As his hands had shown you over the course of the past couple weeks. You got wet thinking about his roving hands, but pushed that thought down. You didn’t need to become distracted by lust.

Dinner over, you hopped out of your resting place and headed to the fresher. It was time for your daily shower. You liked to keep somewhat of a consistent schedule.

***

You stepped out of the shower, realizing you had forgotten a towel. What were you to do? You panicked for a second before grabbing your dirty shirt. This would have to do until you could get to your cubby hole to grab your towel. You tsked at yourself. Now you were damp and uncomfortable.

You looked both ways before you exited the fresher. You were slightly embarrassed. Seeing no one, you took off towards your destination. You turned the corner, apparently catching the two Mandalorians in conversation. They turned to stare at you.

“Oh, uh... just forgot my towel,” you said, embarrassment creeping into your tone.

“You should do it more often,” Boba commented, dragging his eyes over your body. “I didn’t know you had tattoos.”

You blushed. Mando shifted his weight and cleared his throat. “Anyway, I think that’s the best plan.”

Boba turned back to him, slightly annoyed. You grabbed your towel and beat it. You felt awkwardly aroused being nearly naked in front of them. You thought about their armor, and how it would feel against your skin. You dropped the thought. Not this again.

***

The next day you went into town with Fennec. You got to take Mando’s speeder, so you two raced. She of course won, but it was always fun to play with her.

You picked up a piece of fruit, turning it over. It looked okay. You put it in the bag Fennec had slung over her shoulder. She was also inspecting the fruit. “So you caused quite the disruption last night, in your little tee shirt,” she tossed the piece of fruit she was holding back into the pile. You turned to her, surprised, “How’d you hear about that?”

“I was in the room, I was just laying down in a hammock so you didn’t notice me.” She half smiled, “You were a little distracted, dealing with all that male attention.”

You shook your head, “I just needed my towel.”

“You’re really driving them crazy.”

You could’t believe Fennec was saying all this. She was saying the quiet part out loud. You flushed deeply.

“Just girl talking you. Someone needs to. Put them out of their misery and choose one. Or neither?” She studied you.

You pursed your lips, “You just want me to fuck your boss so he’ll have a better attitude.” She laughed, “I’m pretty sure that’s just who he is regardless. But I could be wrong...” she touched your hair.

You brushed her hand away and sighed. “I don’t... know what to do. I’ve never had this issue before?” You looked at her, asking for help.

She held up her hands, “You’re on your own there. I’m just saying: something has to give. So make a choice. Do something.” You turned the thought over in your mind. You guessed you were the tiebreaker.

Shrugging, you said, “Maybe I’ll just fuck ‘em both.”

“Funny.”

You laughed and shoved her lightly. She pushed you back, smiling. You let the conversation drop.

***

Back on the ship, you picked the conversation back up in your head. You had debated with yourself. You and Mando had carefully been getting to know each other for awhile before Boba burst onto the scene. But there was something about him. You tapped your fingers on the book you were reading. What was a girl to do? Mando passed by you, squeezing your foot as he walked by. You smiled to yourself.

***

You had overslept, and so Fennec had left without you. You complained, “I can’t believe she just didn’t wake me up?” You liked the trips into town.

“You were too peaceful to interrupt,” Mando said softly. You smiled, but then frowned. “Still can’t believe she ditched me.”

“Maybe she thought you needed the sleep?”

”I dunno. Now my schedule is all thrown off.” You squinted at your watch. “It’s so late.”

“What are your plans for today?”

”Well, now... nothing. There is some maintenance I can help Boba with.”

Mando nodded, saying nothing but clearly not pleased. You could tell by the way he tilted his helmet slightly away from you.

Boba walked into the room, “Ah, good morning. The princess finally rises.” You heard the bemusement in his voice. You gave him a face, sitting fully up in your hammock. He reached up a hand to grab your chin lightly as he passed by you. Your tummy flip flopped.

Mando cleared his throat testily, “Well, you can still take my speeder into town to meet up with her.” You considered it. “Why do you want to send her away?” Boba asked, casually leaning against the wall of his ship.

“I’m not. She wanted to go.”

You felt the tension building again, almost spilling over. You nervously looked between them before swinging out of your bed. You went to get breakfast, leaving the men to challenge each other. You couldn’t deal with it this close to waking up.

***

You leaned against the counter in the kitchenette, sipping coffee. It burned your throat, but you needed some caffeine, so you tolerated it, hissing slightly. You decided to go sit in the observation room. You liked looking out at the desert sometimes, watching the weather unfold above it. It looked bright and hot. Naturally. You sipped your coffee, sitting.

You heard armor rustling behind you. Mando sat down next to you, putting his knee on the seat and turning towards you. You looked over your shoulder at him. He tilted his head.


Boba’s silhouette filled the doorway. He walked past Mando and you, and sat on your other side, blocking your view. You’d be annoyed, but he was nice to look at. For some reason he’d donned his helmet, though. You were unused to not seeing his sharp eyes. Without his emoting, you weren’t sure what to think. You couldn’t read his body language like you could Mando’s. He turned his helmeted head to you. You felt squished between them. Their auras seemed to be enveloping you, battling it out. You felt stuffy, hot. You licked your lips.

Mando leaned in, running a hand down your spine. You shuddered, gasping. Boba put a strong hand on your thigh, getting to the point as he always did. You stared into his visor in confusion. You could see Mando’s head tilting in the reflection. You thought about your joking words from days earlier, “Maybe I’ll just fuck ‘em both.”

You inhaled and held it. Was this happening? What was happening. You made a decision, like Fennec had told you. You leaned back into Mando’s lap, but put your hand over Boba’s hand, indicating not to withdraw. You waited for them to make their next moves.

There was a moment of silence before Boba squeezed your leg lightly. “Didn’t think you’d be so nasty, princess.” You looked at his hand and back to his visor, uncertain what to say. Mando stirred behind you. He wrapped an arm around your waist pulling you to him. Not to be outdone, Boba leaned towards you and ran his hand all the way up to your groin. He stopped there, waiting for your approval.

You moaned softly, and spread your legs slightly. He didn’t need any more invitation. He moved his hand in between your legs and started to pet you through your pants. Mando dropped his head onto your shoulder and moved his hand up to your breasts. You made an overwhelmed noise.

Boba suddenly pulled you towards him with one swift movement. Your ass ended up in Mando’s face. You readjusted, realizing you were on all fours now. You gulped. Wow.

Mando stood and grabbed your hips with his hands. They were strong, but tentatively. Boba wasted no time. He pulled your shirt over your head and tossed it to the other side of the room. You watched it go, momentarily missing it. His hands roamed over your body, squeezing and massaging you. You felt a tingle in your nether regions. Damn.

Mando finally reached around and undid your pants. You held on to your underwear as he pulled them and your socks off. You were suddenly in nothing but your mismatched undies. Boba pushed you up into a standing position, crowding you into Mando, who stood solid as a tree. You felt your back being pushed into his cuirass. The metal was deliciously cold. Boba’s hands continued to explore you. His chest was centimeters from you. You brought your hands up to his helmet, cupping it between them. You felt him staring at you.

“You sure you want this?” His hands went to your panties, ready to pull them off. Mando wrapped both arms around your waist, squeezing between you and Boba’s torsos. “We don’t have to do this,” he muttered to you, pulling you to himself.

You swallowed. No, you wanted to do it. You squeaked out your desire to keep going somehow, and your panties were gone just like that. Mando’s hands went to your bra, pulling it over your head. As soon as the fabric was away from your skin, you felt Boba’s gloved hands playing with you. Your pussy clutched at this. Mando’s hands went down to your pussy without delay. He slipped his fingers into your folds, gently petting you. Your pussy was drenched between the two of them touching you.

Boba backed up, pulling you onto all fours again. Mando grabbed your hip with one hand, the other hand still busy with your pussy. Boba inserted two fingers into your mouth experimentally. You looked up at him, sucking lightly. “Hnnn, so nasty,” he said, undoing his belt. He tossed it to the side, then started to work on his pants. You started to breath heavily. Holy shit.

Mando’s hands left you. You heard him working on his clothing as well. Boba pulled his already erect cock out of his pants. Your eyes widened. You always wondered what he was packing. It was impressive to see. You opened your mouth eagerly. He slapped you with his dick. “Hey!” You laughed, then took it in your mouth.

You felt the head of Mando’s cock appear at your entrance. You were soaked, so he started to slip in already. He grabbed your hips, pausing. Boba moaned as you sucked him off, taking him into your throat, gagging slightly. You felt Mando penetrate you in one stroke, making you moan pathetically. You readjusted, spreading your legs wider for him. He was big, stretching you out. It burned slightly. It was delicious.

Boba put his hand at the back of your head and started to fuck your throat in earnest. You sniffled and gagged, taking it. Mando started to pound into you, his left hand going to your clit. He rubbed tight, slow circles, driving you crazy. You started to squirm, feeling an orgasm approaching. You were skewered on your two Mandalorians. The idea itself was intoxicating.

“Want to switch?” Boba said to Mando. He didn’t respond at first. You thought, he probably had no idea how to respond to such a question. Did he want to switch from your pussy to your mouth? It was probably something that had never crossed his mind as a possibility.

“If she wants to,” he finally said.

“Well let’s find out.” Boba pulled his cock out of your mouth. You gasped for breath, trying to sniffle away your tears and mucus.

“What do you say, princess? You want me in your pussy yet?”

You nodded, unable to speak. Mando pulled out and they carefully turned you around. You were now facing Mando’s cock. Boba filled you up suddenly, grabbing your hair and pulling as he did. You hissed in protest, but your pussy let you know a little pain brought more pleasure. Your hiss turned into a moan.

Mando’s hand went to your jaw. He massaged it for a second before putting his cock in your mouth. You tasted yourself on him and groaned, turned on. You started to suck and work him with your hand vigorously. He moaned and both his hands went to your hair. Boba let go of your hair in response, and instead grabbed your hips. He switched the angle of his thrusts slightly. This angle hit something in you you rarely found on your own. You started to moan in earnest, writhing under him. Mando kept his cock stuffed in your mouth.

“I wanna cum in this tight pussy,” Boba said, panting. Your pussy jumped at the words. He kept mercilessly fucking you. Mando kept mercilessly fucking your throat. You felt an impending orgasm. It built at the base of your pussy, growing in density and mass. Finally it exploded, rippling through your pussy and your body. You saw stars.

“Hnn, your pussy is so good,” Boba said, fucking you erratically. He pulled out and came on your back, grunting. You shivered from your orgasm. Suddenly you knew what you wanted next. You pulled away from Mando, who let you go. You flipped yourself so your pussy was again facing Mando.


”I want you to fuck me,” you said. He complied, reentering you with a grunt. He grabbed your neck with one hand and stroked you. Your pussy, already worked up, was quickly at the verge of orgasm again. Mando slowly drug his other hand around your body, returning to your clit. You moaned, overwhelmed. Boba pulled your hair out of your face. He had removed his helmet. He licked you from your throat up to your jaw, lightly choking you. 

Mando continued to fuck into you, increasing intensity. All the stimulation pushed you over the edge, and you came again, moaning and squirming. Mando groaned loudly, and quickly pulling out, also came on your back. He sat back, panting. You collapsed into Boba, breathing hard and still whimpering. He gently turned you around so you were sitting in his lap with your head on his shoulder. He kissed you softly on your forehead. He was still breathing deeply. “Time for me to go,” he whispered to you, getting up and pushing you into Mando’s lap. You sank into Mando, exhausted and recovering from your multiple orgasms. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, and put his helmet on the top of your head.

***

Finally you sat up, looking into Mando’s visor. “I need a shower,” you laughed. He nodded, unsure what to say. You kissed the side of his helmet, and flitted off to the shower, totally naked.

In the shower you thought about what had just happened. You closed your eyes and hugged yourself under the warm water. You imagined the strong feeling of their bodies on either side of yours. How their cocks felt fucking you. You got wet again thinking about that. You switched up your thought process. You couldn’t do this anymore. You had to make a choice. While they had agreed to fuck you together, it was not something that was going to be on the table again. It felt like a one time thing.

You snuck out of the shower to your cubby hole. You encountered Fennec again. You were totally nude. You sighed, uncomfortable. “Well, I see something happened today,” she said, her hands raising. “I’m not going to touch this. I didn’t see you like this.” She walked off, leaving you slightly embarrassed and slightly amused. You dried off and quickly dressed, still a bit damp. But you needed to get clothes on again.

You went in search of your chosen lover. You found him outside, leaning against his speeder, staring at the suns. They were just beginning to set. You put your butt on the speeder next to him, and put your head on his shoulder. He had removed his armor, so his shoulder was soft with the fabric of his clothing.

He froze, and turned to look at you with sharp eyes. “Really? I didn’t think I stood a chance against a younger man.” He snaked an arm around your waist, looking down at you. You shrugged, “Maybe it worked in your favor.” He smiled faintly, then said softly, “I’m not a very nice man.”

“No. But you’re nice to me.”

”That’s because I like you.”

“That’s good enough for me.”

He kissed you on your forehead tenderly. You looked up, surprised. His face was soft, open. He almost looked unfamiliar. You tilted your head up and forward and kissed him lightly. He returned the kiss gently, eyes softening. “Definitely good enough for me.”

[yeojaa]

“i love you.”  read:  6:45 pm.

drabble inspired by this post that @hobi-gif​​ tagged me in.  i'm a sucker for misunderstandings, y'know?  also, this is unedited and not proofread.  xoxo

pairing.  jjk x f!reader.  rating.  general.  tags.  a bit of dumb angst due to misunderstandings, some fluff to make up for it, mentions of drinking/alcohol, idiots in love. idk.  wc.  1.9k.

“So, you’re shooting bourbon at 7:30 on a Wednesday why, exactly?”

How Yoongi manages to keep the judgment out of his voice, you’ll never know.  Maybe it’s a bartender thing - some skill you acquire over time, like an achievement in a video game. 

Charisma:  +30 Listening:  +20 Interest:  0

“Because he replied ‘hella’ when I told him I was in love with him.”  You think if it weren’t so funny (and embarrassing and bruising to your ego), you’d have a hard time repeating it.  Instead, it cuts off the edge of your teeth in a melodramatic wail and you knock back your fourth shot in not very long at all. It burns on the way down, igniting your insides in a very different way than you’d like. 

Luckily, the bar is packed - it’s freshman night! - and your cry is lost in the crowd, eaten up by the awful din that seems to only exist in college bars.  It’s only you and your favourite bartender that hear it and for that you’re grateful. 

“You’re not serious.”  From the look on his face, you know he believes you.  Has to, because he knows the culprit behind your heartache. 

“Do I look like I’m joking?”  You deadpan before waving your liquor-laden wrist in a lazy circle.  “Another, bar wench!” 

It’s not that funny but between the alcohol that’s buzzing in your veins and lighting you up like a goddamn Christmas log to the humiliation that’s burning its way through all your sensibilities— well, you can’t help it.  

You’ve always resorted to humour when you were hurting. 

“I think you should slow down.”  He means well - you can see it in the narrowing of his eyes, the way his mouth tilts just enough to make you feel like a kid in front of the principal - but you don’t want well.  You want more.  Need it.

For a split second, you feel a wave of emotion.  It crests and threatens to swallow you whole, dragging you seven thousand miles beneath your own misery.

You swallow it down as best you can, tasting salt water and the sea when you tug a rough hand through your hair.  It aches a little where your rings catch, threading silver through silk.  “Yoongi, c’mon.”  You ignore the way his name slurs out of your mouth, trapped between wet lips that don’t quite move like they should.  “I’m fine.  Please.”  The desperate edge to your plea tells him enough - that you’re well on your way to having too good of a night, inebriation playing at the sidelines of your vision.  You play it off and shift in your seat, sneakered feet kicking this way and that to right yourself.

To his trained eye, you’re about two minutes from slipping backwards off the worn leather stool.

“Can I call someone at least?”  He’s meeting you halfway, begrudging and a little worried. 

“I’m fine!”  It shoots off your tongue, a rocket to the moon.  You don’t want to come down.

He sighs once, a sharp inhale of breath through his nose.  He’s got that look on his face - the one that tells you you’re going to owe him one.  You think that might be better than returning to your dorm, empty-handed and heavy hearted.  

“Please?”  

Amber liquid finds itself in your shot glass again and you’re quick to snatch it up, worried that Yoongi might dump it the moment he has a chance to consider how he’s indulging you.  You swallow it greedily, as if it isn’t pooling uncomfortable heat everywhere it hits - down your throat and around the sides of your mouth.

“Take it easy,”  comes a voice - an achingly, devastatingly familiar voice - to your left.  It steals your breath - tugs it out of your lungs in the same instant your heart heaves out of your chest.

Jeon Jungkook’s grinning that megawatt smile at you, dimples on full display.  His hair’s a little damp and more than a little messed up, sweeping across his forehead in that way that makes you want to run your fingers through it.  Shoulders are swathed in soft cotton and plaid, the navy blue and grey pattern a stark contrast to the blinding white of his tee shirt.  

He looks so good you want to eat him up.

Instead, you jolt like you’re about to lose the contents of your stomach.

Hands - both his and yours - dart out.  Yours grip the sticky booze-stained bartop;  his seize your elbows, steadying you easily.  You try to ignore the way his palms burn heat across your skin. 

“You okay?”  He says it so sweetly, as if he hadn’t just shattered your hopes and dreams into a million little pieces less than an hour ago.  He says it like he always does, with affection painting his words and stars in his eyes.  Even in the dim light, they’re mesmerizing, constellations swirling in his irises.

You have to make a conscious effort to tear your gaze away, redirecting your - admittedly fuzzy - stare to the speck of lint on his collar.  It honestly doesn’t help much, because like this, you can see the trail of ink that drifts past his neckline.  Swirls of black work that make up the roses that span his shoulders, capping each segment of bone prettily.  

He repeats himself when your silence stretches too long for his liking, a tattooed finger rising to tap gently along the ridge of your jaw, thumb sweeping just so across your chin.  “Hey, baby.  You good?”

A part of you wants to live in the way that sounds.  You’re a sucker for pet names and while you’ve heard this one once or twice (or a hundred times), it coils itself like a cobra around the organ in your chest, poised to ruin you.  One wrong move and you’d be paralyzed on the ground.

“What’re you doing here?”  You finally manage, tearing your roving eyes from the patterns you know lie beneath cloth.  

It’s not the smartest move - because you’re distracted by his stupid handsome face again.

“Well, you didn’t answer my text so I got worried.  Checked your Snapchat and saw you were here.”  It comes so nonchalantly, like he hadn’t just discovered you drowning your sorrows in cheap whiskey.  

“I didn’t answer your text?” 

You can see Yoongi lingering at the edge of your periphery, hand paused around a glass that he’s in the middle of passing off.  You wonder how crazy you must sound, or if you do at all.  Maybe just pathetic?  You don’t want to think about it too hard.  

“You said ‘hella’ to my confession!  What am I supposed to say back to that?”

“What’re you talking about?”  It’s Jungkook’s turn to take the title of village idiot, big doe eyes widening to the size of saucers.  You want to smack the expression off his face - would, too, if your heart didn’t also clench pitifully at the thought of hurting him.  

You think he might be backtracking when he retreats a hairsbreadth, releasing you in the same moment his other hand dives into the front of his too-tight black jeans.  The denim strains against his thighs, muscle and sinew flexing when he transfers his weight enough to allow him to yank his phone out of his pocket.  Said device is in your face in the next instant, glaringly bright screen making you shy away.  

Who the hell kept their brightness at 100%?

“Hey - look at this.”  He sounds stern as he continues to wave the sleek black iPhone before your eyes, seemingly unaware of the fact that you can’t damn well see a thing with him constantly moving it.

“Stop!”  You snap, finally, drink-addled hands snatching it out of his hands when he’s still twirling it like the most annoying wacky waving inflatable arm flailing tube man in existence. 

With the phone in your own two hands, you peer down at the screen, trying to make sense of what you’re looking at.  There’s definitely your last two texts - you cringe at the sight of them, blue bubbles bursting your own - but there’s a slew of others beneath it and they’re all delivered, the read receipt mocking you. 

You nearly yeet the phone across the room when, after two or three read-throughs, you grasp what he’s said.  “You want to date me?”  The words fumble on their way out, knocking into each other in a way that’s equal parts drunk-girl and stupefied-crush. 

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?”  He’s got that shit-eating grin of his lighting up his face, sweeping sunshine and daisies into every corner of his expression.  It’s at complete odds with the way his mouth twists and turns, flat of his cheek rounded by the tongue he presses into it.  You’re both awestruck and turned on all at once.  You feel like you might short circuit or maybe that you already have.

It’s the only explanation for the way you’re surging forward - because you’d never do it otherwise, unless you weren’t in control of your own stupid body - and all but throwing yourself against him.

As if he anticipates it, he receives you like a bed you’ve been away from for too long, broad palms sweeping across the backs of your thighs as you cling to him like a koala.  Your cheeks burn white hot and steeped in something - love, lust, a mixture of both - and you hum comfortably against the column of his throat.  The sound is returned tenfold, echoing from his cavernous chest like the happiest cat in the world.  It shakes your entire body, so closely pressed to him that you can feel every vibration that runs through all five feet, ten inches of him. 

“I’m guessing that’s a yes?”  His words lose themselves in your hair, breath warm against the shell of your ear as he squeezes you tight.

You give him his answer in the press of your mouth, parted and a little sloppy, more tongue and teeth than technique.  You swallow the laugh that builds, devouring it like a kid in a candy store with the intensity of your adoration.  “Hell-a yes.”

The way he grips you in response, laughter rolling off him in intoxicating waves - because you’d happily get drunk off the sound - fizzes excitement through your limbs. 

“You’re never going to let that go, are you?”  Both of you know the answer to that question, the knowledge passing silently between you.  

You smirk;  Jungkook mirrors it.  He surges forward for another kiss and you’re meeting him halfway, slanting your mouth greedily across his.  He relents for the briefest moment - lets you savour the gentle brush of his lips, the soft pass of his tongue - before he’s taking all he can get.  He’s licking over your teeth, laving hotly across every inch in a way that makes your head spin.  

“Get a room!”  It comes from your right, somewhere just behind you. 

“We should take their advice, baby.”  He coos, breaking away just enough for you to gulp in lungfuls of air.  His lips are the prettiest shade of red, kiss swollen and slicked with spit.  

At any other time, you might be ashamed - you can only imagine how you look - but here and now, fueled by the knowledge of reciprocated love and the pleasant warmth of liquor, you couldn’t care less.  So you kiss the boy you love, eager and with hands trailing the expanse of his back.

“Let’s go.”

[rhysismydaddy]

Inmate Intimacy pt. 3 (Nessian)

Here’s the final part! I’ll be working on some asks in my box next :)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Masterlist

______________________________________________________________

~Cassian~

As soon as the phone clicked through, Cassian told his best friend, “Get me the hell out of here.”

“Hello to you, too, asshat,” Rhysand grumbled. “You realize you’re calling me at seven in the morning?”

“I don’t dictate when phone privileges are,” Cassian practically growled back. 

He knew he should be a little grateful Rhys had even taken his case for free, but right now he couldn’t care less. 

If he didn’t get released soon, he was bound to do something amazingly stupid with Nesta which she’d probably come to regret. And he couldn’t have her regretting their first time together. 

So he felt perfectly justified as he yelled, “Get your ass out of bed and get me out of here!”

A pause.

Then Rhys asked, perfectly calm, “Did someone make you their bitch or something?”

Yes. 

“No. There’s just a- just figure something out, man.” He let a little of the sexual frustration and overall desperation seep into his voice. “Please.”

A heavy sigh. “Well, I was going to just surprise you, but since you’re yelling at me, you’re getting released tomorrow, jackass.”

Cassian couldn’t help himself from shouting, “What the fuck!”

Another sigh. “I was just going to come get you. Should be tonight at like six.”

Serotonin and pure fucking happiness shot through him like a bullet, and he laughed. “That’s perfect.”

“Something tells me you don’t want me to pick you up.”

“Your intuition,” he told his friend seriously, “is astounding. Thanks, man. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m amazing. I’m going back to sleep.”

The line went dead, and he laughed again. He’d been prepared for another week or something, but tonight? In less than twelve hours? Hell, yes.

Still grinning like a complete dumbass, he turned and strode down the hallway, starting to think about his plan for the evening. 

~Nesta~

Today had been a long day. 

No, strike that. Today had been the longest day of her life. 

Besides an early visit from Inmate #9356--during which they somehow managed to keep their hands off each other--nothing exciting had happened. 

Actually, her appointment with Cassian had even been pretty boring. He’d come in for all of two minutes for his shot and had stared at her with the biggest, most obnoxious grin on his face the whole time. As soon as she’d given him a cotton ball, he’d hopped off the table, slapped a kiss to her cheek, and disappeared. 

Weird, but the man wasn’t exactly normal. 

Checking her watch, she noticed it was time to get out of here.

Fucking finally. 

A hot bath and a huge glass of wine were practically calling her name. 

After quickly changing from her scrubs into jeans and a sweatshirt, she headed towards the exit. She nodded at the guard, getting a little confused when he winked and wagged his eyebrows but figuring it was probably just her imagination. 

But when the front gate slowly swung open, revealing who stood in the parking lot, everything clicked into place. 

Cassian was leaning against a jet black muscle car, arms crossed over his chest, smiling at her.

If that wasn’t an indicator that he’d been released, his change of attire sure as hell was. He was in dark jeans, boots, and a tight black t-shirt that clung to him and showcased his build. His tattoos were on full display, and his curly hair was down for once, blowing softly in the wind.

In short, he looked like every dream Nesta had ever had in her life stuffed into one human being. 

She walked up to him, suddenly well aware she probably looked like garbage next to him, and said, “You know, it’s probably not wise to hang around after breaking out of prison.”

He just laughed and extended a hand to her, the silent demand clear. 

Nesta walked into his arms, put her head against his chest, and smiled happily. Without even looking, she could tell he was mimicking the expression. 

“I got released, baby,” he finally said, pulling back to run a thumb over her cheek. “So I figured I’d take you up on your very generous offer to let me buy you a drink.”

“I’m in jeans and a sweatshirt,” she told him, shaking her head. “I’m not going anywhere nice.”

“You always look beautiful.” 

She rolled her eyes, hiding a smile behind her hand. Cassian stepped away from the car and opened the door for her. “Let’s go.”

Too easy. “Wow, getting the door for me? The system really helped reform you, didn’t it?”

He stuck his tongue out at her like the very mature gentleman he was. “Just get in the car. Please.”

“Such good manners, too,” she murmured as she gave in and slid in the passenger seat.

Snuggling down into the surprisingly comfortable seat, she noticed how the smell she’d associated with him--smoke and earth and honey--was amplified in here. Gods, he smelled good. 

She inhaled deeply, blushing when Cassian settled in next to her and noticed. He gave her a satisfied smile and cranked the car up. 

“Where are we going?”

“We’re going on a very fancy, very formal date to my favorite bar,” he said with a grin. Then he suddenly looked at her with a nervous glance, “You’re not a vegetarian, are you?”

The way he said vegetarian made it sound like martian. 

She shook her head. A burger actually sounded pretty great right about now.

Twenty minutes later, said burger was placed in front of her, along with a beer and a huge container of fries. 

And if you thought her side of the table was fattening, Cassian’s was a hundred times worse. 

Nesta picked up her burger and started to eat, watching the man across from her and trying to suppress a smile. She’d never thought anyone eating would be funny, but that was before she’d seen a former inmate taste something besides not-really-meat-meatloaf in a month. 

He finished off his first burger and grabbed the second, a happy little smile on his face. 

“You eat like a crazy person,” she told him.

Golden eyes flashed up to hers. “Fuck like one, too.”

She choked on her fry, hiding it behind a cough. To change the subject, she asked, “So what do you do? When you’re not in prison, of course.”

“Such a funny woman.” He rolled his eyes. “I do a lot of random stuff, like occasionally work at my friend Azriel’s bar, but mostly I’m a trainer.”

“Makes sense.”

The look in his eye said he knew, but he asked, “Why?”

She rolled her eyes. “You either eat small children for breakfast or work out a lot.”

“What about you?”

Giving him a look, she replied, “I’m a nurse, Cassian.”

“I know, smartass. But what about when you’re not working?”

“I read a lot.” And watch reality shows. “And I run sometimes.”

He stole some fries off her plate and asked, “What were you going to do tonight? Before you got swept off your feet by a handsome criminal?”

“My feet are still on the ground,” she assured him with a smirk. “I was going to take a bath and drink a lot of wine. Very exciting life I live, I know.”

Suddenly, he was on his feet, throwing a couple bills on the table. “Well, let’s go. I’d hate to disrupt your evening further.”

Even though she knew that was a flat-out lie, she took his outstretched hand and followed him back to his car. “Where to now?”

“My apartment.”

“How presumptuous,” she commented, even though she got in without argument.

“Not for that reason, you pervert,” he said with a dramatic eye roll. “I’m just trying to show you I have somewhere to live with more than four walls.”

“Mmhm.”

He grinned, reaching over to put a hand on her thigh. Unable to help it, she traced the lines of his tattoo, down each finger, over his hand, up his forearm. 

“Nesta,” he murmured, voice a little deeper. “Stop distracting me.”

You know when someone tells you not to do something, and it only makes you want to do it more?

Well, that’s what happened. 

Or maybe it was just the fact that she couldn’t control herself around him.

Either way, she didn’t listen.

Gripping his hand, she brought it up to her face, then drew one of his fingers into her mouth. 

His knuckles went white around the steering wheel, jaw clenched, and his eyes glared at the car in front of them as if that would make it move.

She released his finger, only to lean across the center console and press herself into his arm. She kissed his ear, then tugged on it with her teeth. 

He continued to drive, silent and broody, as she moved down to his neck. There was something about the way his skin felt against her lips that drove her insane. 

She dragged her tongue up the column of his neck, smiling when he released a low groan.  

But after about ten more seconds, he snapped. “Alright, you either sit in your seat like a good girl or I pull this car over and bend you over the hood.”

Nesta kissed the side of his mouth. “Is that supposed to be a threat?”

He growled and pressed the gas pedal a little harder, so she relented and slid back to her side with a smile. His hand went back to her thigh, gripping more tightly this time.

Finally, he pulled up in front of a nice apartment building and threw the car in park. Before she could even move to get out of the car, he’d sprinted around, thrown her door open, and scooped her up.

“In a hurry?” she teased, secretly urging him to walk faster.

He pinched her behind. “Yes.”

Cassian carried her through the lobby and into an elevator, then down a hall and into his apartment. Or rather, through his apartment. 

He immediately strode through the kitchen and living room, then tossed her onto his bed. Before she could take a look around at her surroundings, he was prowling on top of her, lips finding hers. 

Normally, she’d be opposed to someone acting like this, but it had been a month of being so close to him, forced to look at him every day without doing what she wanted. 

And he was finally free, and it was finally happening. 

So she pulled him closer, sliding her hands under the back of his shirt.

He reached over his head and yanked it off, then did the same with her sweatshirt. His mouth went to her neck as his hands snuck behind her back, and then her bra was on their growing pile of clothes on the floor. 

Her back arched as he moved his attention to her breasts, and she let out a moan that was loud enough to make her very, very glad they hadn’t done this in her office. 

Then he was kissing her again, and she lost herself in him. His tongue slid in her mouth, caressing hers, and he sucked on her lip in the most distracting way.

Her legs wrapped around his waist, holding him tight to her, and she giggled as he reared back, picked her up, and moved them higher on the bed. 

Cassian took her wrists from around his neck and pressed them into the mattress above her head, then kissed her softly. “Do you trust me?”

Normally, a question like that would make her run for the hills, but somehow she found herself replying, “Yes.”

He gave her that insufferably cocky grin, then moved his hand, and-

Oh my gods.

No, he didn’t!

Nesta looked up at the handcuff encircling her wrist, mouth hanging open in shock. She was so distracted she couldn’t even fight as he trapped the other, leaving her powerless underneath him. 

“Cassian.”

He ran his fingers lightly down both her arms, and goosebumps appeared in his wake. “Funny feeling, isn’t it?”

“Let me loose.”

He just cocked his head, dark hair slipping over his brow. “Is that what you really want?”

She considered that.

It was what she wanted, right? Right? 

Not in the fucking slightest, her brain informed her helpfully. 

Shit. 

“You did it to me, after all,” he reasoned, hands moving to splay over her ribs, fingers barely brushing the underside of her breasts. “Consider it payback.”

This was absolutely insane. 

She didn’t point out that he’d been handcuffed by her for all of ten seconds. Instead, she did something incredibly stupid and said, “I guess it’s alright, then.”

He smiled broadly, hands going to the button on her jeans and snapping it open. Nesta’s breath hitched, but she managed to keep eye contact with him as he slowly pulled her pants down, taking her underwear with them. 

He sat back on his heels, looking her over with dark golden eyes, and she squirmed. 

Then, after pressing one more kiss to her lips, he slid down the bed and moved her legs over his shoulders. 

Oh, gods.

She stared into his golden eyes, unable to move even without the cuffs, as he slowly lowered his mouth to her and placed a single, soft kiss against her skin. 

Then he winked like the insufferable bastard he was, leaned down further, and got serious about what he was doing. 

Nesta’s back arched, her arms pulling helplessly against the cuffs. Cassian gripped her hips, keeping her still, and she was utterly powerless underneath him as he continued to work her. 

She’d never given control like this to anyone. Generally, she didn’t let her guard down around men, even when they were on top of her. But something about the man kneeling between her legs made her throw all of her rules out the window and just let him do what he wanted. 

And she fucking loved it.

One of his hands continued to hold her hips, the other sneaked up across her stomach, over her breasts, and up her throat. 

A finger traced her lips, and she parted them under his touch. Cassian made a deep, approving sound as she drew it into her mouth, sucking softly. 

Then he pulled the hand away, trailing it back down her body, and moved it between her thighs. 

She moaned his name and squirmed, noticing how the metal around her wrists clanked against the headboard. 

“You taste so fucking good,” he murmured against her, making her moan again. She could feel the pressure building up inside her, and as if he could sense it, too, Cassian added another finger. 

Release finally found her, making breath leave in a harsh whoosh, but he kept working her until the waves had ebbed and she was limp underneath him. 

He pulled back, looking up at her with golden eyes that were heavy with lust. Dragging his tongue across his bottom lip, he smiled and made a self-satisfied, male sound. 

If she was being honest, he deserved to. 

What he’d done hadn’t been new to her in the slightest, but it had never felt... quite like that. She’d never come from that before, and the realization made her mutter, “I was right. You do eat like a crazy person.”

Cassian prowled up her body, dropping searing kisses occasionally, and then tugged on her bottom lip with his teeth. “And do you remember what I said back?”

Fuck like one, too. 

She nodded. 

“I think it’s time I prove that.” Gods, please, yes. “Do you want me to take these off?” He rattled the handcuffs. 

Surprising herself, and probably him too, she shook her head. 

For some reason, being underneath him, subject to whatever he wanted to do, made her lose her mind in the best way possible. 

His eyes went almost black as he grinned and said, “I’m going to fucking marry you one day.”

Nesta rolled her eyes and laughed, but it was cut short by the sight of him leaning back to unbutton his jeans. Once he’d pulled them off, allowing her to take in the full sight of him, her mouth went a little dry. 

“You keep looking at me like that, and this will be over before it even starts,” he warned, voice husky with need.

She forced herself to look back up at his gaze, and he moved to brace himself on his elbows above her. Nesta leaned up to kiss him, then watched his brow furrow in concentration as one hand snuck between them.

Her eyes drifted shut as he started to slide in, but he paused and said, “Keep your eyes open. I want you to see what you do to me.”

Even though it felt impossible, she opened them again and did what he asked. His jaw was tight, shoulders and arms stiff as he held himself above her, body seeming to teem with pent up energy as he let her adjust. 

He looked... helpless. 

She was the one in cuffs, but he looked utterly helpless against whatever he was feeling. 

“Now you see why I was in a hurry,” he gruffed. 

And then he started to move. 

At the first push of his hips, Nesta realized it might have been a mistake to keep her wrists bound. She pulled against them instinctively as he moved, the knowledge that she couldn’t touch him messing with her mind. 

A low groan tore out of his throat, and she almost came from the sound alone. 

“Fuck, Nesta.”

He kissed her, lips hard and demanding and perfect against hers. A hand lifted her lips slightly, causing him to hit a different spot inside her, and she moaned into his mouth. “Right there. Oh, gods, please.”

It was the first time she’d ever asked him for something, and to say he delivered would be the understatement of the century. 

His hips pounded into her, exactly in the spot that drove her crazy, and she barely had time to move hers in rhythm before the next attack came. 

He dipped his head to kiss her throat, sucking at the spot where it met her shoulder, and she came with a loud groan, eyes rolling back in her head a little. 

Cassian didn’t stop, though. 

He didn’t so much as slow down. 

It seemed as if a month in prison had built up just a little sexual frustration, and he was taking it all out on her at once. 

He braced a hand on her leg, then threw it over her shoulder, going deeper still. “Oh, fuck,” she groaned. 

Her legs started to shake as the buildup inside of her grew and grew and grew. 

“Nesta,” he panted, picking up his pace a little. “Come for me.”

The sound of his voice did it for her, and she fell over the edge with a loud cry, this time dragging him with her. His eyes drifted shut, and his mouth collapsed against her as he groaned. 

Then he stilled on top of her, both of them breathing heavily. 

After a few moments, he pulled back and surveyed her face with wide eyes. “Are you okay?”

I probably won’t be able to walk for a week. She nodded, unable to even form the words to explain how she felt at the moment. “That was...”

“Yeah,” he agreed, shaking his head. 

They continued to stare at each other, both lost for words. Then he reached up, and a moment later her hands were free. She brought them to his face, brushing his hair back. 

He frowned at the red skin around her wrists, rolling over and out of the bed before she could tell him they didn’t even hurt. 

She heard the rush of water, and a few minutes later, he came back with a smile. 

Cassian scooped her into his arms, carried her into his bathroom, and deposited her in the tub. 

The tub that was full of warm, bubbly water. 

A fat glass of wine was in her hand a second later.

“Well, you did say you didn’t want to disrupt my evening.”

He grabbed his own glass, then climbed in the tub across from her. Part of her wondered why the hell he had a bathtub this big, and she would’ve asked if it hadn’t been for the sight of him sitting across from her. 

Bubbles clung to his chest, stark against his tattoos. His hair was wet from the hand he dragged through it, and he had a soft, happy smile on his lips. 

He cocked his head as she stared at him, taking a sip from his glass. “I like the way you look at me.”

Nesta blushed. “How do I look at you?”

A smile. “Like you want to handcuff me and have your way with me.”

She bit her lip to keep herself from smiling. “Well, it is your turn.”

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