#he's been making me sappy recently

[mintycurry]

OMAR HAS A "THIS IS... " PLAYLIST!!

I FEEL SO EMOTIONAL. I'M SO PROUD OF HIM, VERY DESERVED 😭

[ravengards-rogue]

i thought of you so often.

arthur morgan x reader.

✧ tags : fem!reader (gendered language, explicit use of she/her in reference to reader), children / planning on children, generally sappiness, fluff, au where nothing bad happens to arthur hdskjsdkfhsj.

✧ wc : 2.4k (???)

✧ a/n : arthur morgan.... save me arthur morgan....also not a super original thought but i can't Stop thinking about it.

✧ synopsis : a collection of love letters, all unfinished, tucked somewhere you aren't meant to find them. oh, arthur loves you more than you knew.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

You try to keep out of Arthur's belongings.

He's owed some privacy, for one. More than that, you've never felt any reason to look into it. Arthur isn't a man of many words, though you catch moments of his introspection should you pry. He isn't stoic, neither. And above all things, he's kind. Really truly kind in a way that makes him different from other men.

You don't have any complaints about him is what you mean. Unlike the men you've loved before, there are no short-comings of Arthur that would drive you to wanting to investigate his own personal things. Especially something so personal like his journals, prior or present.

On top of that, you were there with him through everything. You were part of the gang and stayed by him when it all fell apart. It was towards the end of that that Arthur came to you near frenzied, told you his plans, his thoughts. Confided in you and no less than begged to go with him where he ran.

You loved Arthur enough to stay, and so things ended - and you ran. There isn't much his journal could tell that you couldn't surmise on your own.

It's been years now, and you've long since left that life. You live with Arthur quietly, peaceful in the moments with a garden and kitty sweet as sugar.

It's a good life. An honest, quiet one sometimes to the point of being boring. You rarely miss the action, though occasionally you'll take up a bounty just to feel alive and make some money.

Mostly though, you live as unassuming folk. No bloodshed, no wardens, no gunslinging.

Been talk between you both about having a baby, recently. Serious talk. You've made some money between here and there, and you've got a good life. You've traveled too. But it gets a little lonely, and you don't really get your fill with just Jack when John and Abi are ways away.

Before anything like that, though - you need to clear some space. Empty out some belongings and things collecting dust. Living in one place for too long creates all sorts of mess, you find. When Arthur is home to help, he does - but he's been busy lately figuring something out with Charles. Some business venture related to ranching that you know nothing about so far. They'll tell you when its ready.

Usually when you're tidying, you keep to just your things, or your shared things - but Arthur has lived more life than you. It shows in that big closet space filled with nick-knacks he has yet to toss.

You'd mentioned it to him not too long ago and he'd given you permission to go through them.

(A kiss to your forehead from chapped lips and hands holding your waist, Arthur hums in acknowledgement as you ask his permission.

"Ain't nothing I gotta hide from you. Do whatever you need.)

But like you said - you try to keep your nose out of his business if it's not necessary for you to be in it in anyway.

You weren't trying to look through his things, really. You started cleaning, worked your way to that last box. Up on a shelf in his closet, a little too high for you to reach easily. You made a misstep and dropped the damn thing. It barely missed your head as the whole thing fell open, and out came journals and papers and photographs.

You've always known Arthur to be sentimental, so none of it has been particularly surprising. A photo of wolves and him on a horse, the picture from John and Abigail's engagement. Some other scraps of sentimental value.

And then there was a journal. Not Arthur's journal that he's always using, but another you've never seen before. You know Arthur journals, seen the thing plenty though you never look unless he shows you first.

A journal with a dark brown stained leather binding, fallen open and your name scrawled out in pencil lead at the top of it.

The curiosity got the better of you, okay? Not your damn fault.

So you're thinking on it.

The fabric of your skirt is pooled out underneath you as you hold the thing in your hands, sitting down on the ground surrounded by things. You've stowed away everything else that fell out from the box after ensuring it was intact, including Arthur's journals. Everything with the exception of the one you're holding.

Some guilt eats at you. You don't wanna upset him potentially by having looked. Even if he gave you permission, looking in the damn thing is a little different. But your name was there so clearly, and well - you didn't think he wrote about you. Apart from here and there, maybe.

You hold the book out in front of you with a sigh, looking fondly at his name ingrained in the leather. You press your forehead against it with, resigning yourself completely.

"Lord forgive my pryin'," You mumble, hoping it's enough to absolve you.

Your heart feels funny as you let your fingers trace over the hard edge of the front cover, one eye shut as you start to open it slow.

The first few pages are nothing special.

A page outlining who the journal belongs to and when it was started, and some doodles of yarrow and oleander. The pages after that filled with mundane entries. About people he met or things he saw, all endearing to you. The corners of your lips tug up slightly.

You really love this man helplessly.

You flip through a few more pages, many of them blank before writing starts to appear again. Little by little, you find passages. You look to the dates up at the corner (though not all of them have one) and trace the timeline. This is from all the way back in Horseshoe Overlook.

It feels like ages ago now.

You look at a page with no date, and reading the writing in it. There's doodles of flowers and trees along the bottom of the page. The words are easy enough to make out - because Arthur has the most unusually beautiful handwriting.

There's some entries about you. At first, they all include your name in some context. Mentioned in the same way Arthur might mention Hosea or Abigail. The further you go, the less you see it. The more you become her and she.

It's a trend. The longer you read, the less there is about anyone else. Just you and all your silly idiosyncrasies tucked between pages. Something lovestruck and foolish lights its match in you.

Saw a body hanging at the tracks at Valentine. A gruesome sight. I told her about it and she laughed. Asked me to take her to see it. A strange woman, by all accounts.

You feel yourself smile a little as you continue to flip through the pages.

She joined me riding into town today. Said she had some business to attend but would not tell me any details. After, she came with me to purchase a new gun. I engraved a snake into it's handle, per her request.

Another few pages littered with drawings of delicate berries and waterfalls before you stumble across more writing. The more you flip, the longer the passages become you.

You can't tear your eyes away.

Rained today. Nothing too terrible or worth mentioning, except that she nearly caught a cold playing in it. I brought her coffee to keep her warm, but could not scold her further upon seeing her delight.

Another passage, this time written with messier hand writing. A coffee stain splatters on the white of the page.

Your heart tugs on itself. Swells about a thousand sizes. To think he wrote so much of your time together between these pages.

You read and read and read - and each passage is a little more mundane at the last. Some pages go on in vivid detail, but others are so short you aren't sure what to make of the fact he wrote them at all. As if such little details were important enough to keep in mind.

I picked a flower for her. I thought it would suit her taste. It was white with delicate petals. I did not know the name.

She wore it in her hair this evening. I find I can't stop grinning.

One passage on the next few pages, longer than the rest, catches your eye. From later in your time together, written when you were in Leymone. Near Scarlett Meadows and before the mess in Saint Denis.

After Arthur had been kidnapped.

I have gone on and on about the business with Colm O'Driscoll in many entries before this one. Yet, I find it difficult to forget. Many times I have come close to death, and still no experience lingers on my mind quite like this one. Everyone has done their best to look after me. For that I am grateful, though I do not care for being looked after. What use am I like this, I wonder? Perhaps, I should simply be grateful to be alive and in one piece, if a little uglier than I was. Alongside Miss Grimshaw and Miss Tilly, she has been by my side while I recovered. Such a carefree woman and yet I have seen her cry and weep over me countless times in the last few weeks alone. The decent man in me is apologetic for causing sorrow. Perhaps, it is the outlaw in me that feels some strange relief or satisfaction. Her fussing does not give me any grief. If anything, I find myself all the more endeared. Such a decent woman does not belong in a place like this. I hope she is able to go somewhere far away and live peacefully. I am not so shameless to want anything more. The time together we have spent, I will make sure to cherish.

Something painful and pitiful tugs at your heart. Even when Arthur admitted his feelings for you, he had started it on a similar tangent. You tell him often that you're the one who feels out of bounds with him. That a man as decent and as honest as him often feels like too much for you to have so easily.

A tear slips from your eye and you laugh at your own sentimentality, wiping it away before it can splatter onto the pages.

The further you read, the more sporadic entries become. You find that there are pages filled with sketches of you, but many of them are scratched out or half erased - like he did not find them good enough. Of your side profile, of your hands, of you pointing at a target with a gun. You feel a strange feeling of love wash over you.

Instead of concrete thoughts, you're met with Arthur's abstract. Subtle complexities and studies. There's honest tenderness in the way he sketches you and the words he chooses to caption each with. Lighter, thinner lines. Smaller doodles like stray daydreams caught onto a page.

You've never doubted Arthur in his love for you, quiet man he is - but it proves to overwhelm when presented to you in such a way.

You get to back pages. There, you're finally met with more writing. Except, instead of journal entries, there's the start of letters. You find your name at the top of the page.

Over and over. Love letters, all unfinished or scrapped. Written over and over and over, but not completed. There's tens of them at least. You've never received a love letter from Arthur before, though it's nothing you fault him for.

Now you're almost glad. You like this much better.

My darling girl My muse The better half of me, I must find some way to tell you all of what I think of you. It seems no words do it justice, I'm afraid. Still, it is in my best interest to try.

Damn that man.

When you find yourself starting to weep, you don't fight the feeling. You merely shut the book closed and set it in your lap before crying into your hands.

Such overwhelmingly happy tears. You feel off balance. If the whole world turned on its head this very minute, you're unsure you'd notice. What a decent, honest man you've come to love. What a tender one.

In the middle of your crying, you don't hear the door open or close. Nor do you hear Arthur's heavy footfall until he's in the doorway, with a voice worried half to death.

"Sweetheart, what in the hell?"

You turn your head to look at him, watching his eyes widen at your tear stained face. You clamber to your feet hurriedly, book dropping onto the ground next to you as you throw yourself at him as soon as you can.

Arthur is a steady enough man not to stumble when you do, though you can feel his apprehension. Eventually, he circles his arms around your waist. His hugs are strong. Bout strong as him and then some. An arm wrapped around your waist, the other crossed over your back all around your shoulder. Full pressure as he squeezes you tight, patting the back of your head.

"I leave you alone for a few hours. What has gotten into you, little lady?"

You pull back and and look at him, wet lashes and all, before leaning up to kiss him. Arthur meets your lips chastely at first before making a noise of surprise as you kiss him further. You use both hands to grab his face as you do, scruff scratching against your skin. His lips are soft, welcoming. He melts into the touch, so easily - blue eyes lovestruck as you pull away.

"You know I love you, don't you Arthur? More than anyone in this crazy world we live in,"

His face softens visibly. He smiles at you, touching his head to yours.

"Somehow, I do. Though, I'm wonderin' what the hell brought this on."

You tuck your face against his chest, feeling his laughter reverb through you at the way you cling to him so fervently. You sniffle as you talk.

"Found your journal. The one about me,"

He goes stiff, then silent. When you look up again, he's blushing red. He pinches his brow.

"Lord, I'd forgotten all about it,"

You shake your head.

"Ain't nothing for you to be embarrassed about. You are so wonderful,"

He pouts at you. Your heart swells. "You ain't helping with the embarrassment."

You hold him further. Hug him so tight, worried he'll disappear if you don't.

"I love you, Arthur."

"You already told me once, didn'tcha?"

"And I'll tell you one thousand times over," You emphasize, pouting at him. "Really. I love you,"

"I love you too sweetheart," His hand cups your face, thumb brushing along your waterline. "Don't cry no more. Spoils that pretty face."

"I'll try but I don't know if it's all out of me,"

Arthur laughs, pressing a kiss against your hairline. "Guess I'll just have to wipe your tears."

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

[kookooluvr]

Teach Me How To Love - Part 4

pairing: professor!jungkook x (fem) professor!reader, fwb to lovers

genre: fluff, angst, smut, fwb au, economicsprofessor!jungkook, politicalscienceprofessor!reader, slow burn, some emotional constipation, some sappy moments, lots of sexy moments.

summary: jeon jungkook, a fellow professor at yonsei university, is your friend, co-worker, and secret bed buddy. you have rules set in place to make sure there are no misunderstandings in your little arrangement. the #1 rule is as clear as day; no catching feelings. simple, right? wrong. let's see how un-simple it gets when a certain economics professor falls for an emotionally unavailable political science professor.

rating: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

word count: 8.6k

warnings: it's the start of summer break woop woop! some backstory on namjoon and his fiancée, tae being jk's wingman, jk in a leather jacket, oof! tae and jihyo meet and instantly hit it off, jk and oc get a bit flirty, explicit sexual content; sex in a club bathroom, making out, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, standing sex, unprotected sex (stay safe kids), slight exhibitionism, soft dom jk, brief oral (m. receiving), cum in da mouf, a morning handjob (m. receiving), the gang meets oc and jihyo, hana being hana, the start of mai and oc's friendship, oc gets a bit drunk, jk gives her a piggyback ride, she stays the night for the first time, lots and lots of soft feels at the end !!!

author's note: we're taking a little break from the angst with this one, lol. i'm curious to hear your thoughts ! what do we think of hana, of mai, of tae and jihyo ??? also, my girl oc is letting her guard down y'all !!!! what do we think will happen on the jeju trip 👀👀👀

taglist: @rpwprpwprpwprw @livinluvl @chxiosworld @mimi1097 @bumblebee-21s-blog @koosluvss @sou-17 @svnbangtansworld @junecat18 @shrek-the-destroyer @tastykookoonut @sturniolowrld @palomanazareth @chimmisbae @daskewl @ramyun-h @heyitsroshni

find tmhtl masterlist here

It's the last day of the spring semester for the university staff, with final exams done and dusted and students' grades already published. Jungkook and Taehyung walk side by side, making their way out to the parking lot, kissing the campus goodbye for a month.

They have plans to meet the rest of their friends at some club that opened recently. Jungkook has never really been much of a club goer, but he doesn't have to worry about work on Monday, the weather is warm, and he recently bought a nice jacket that he's been meaning to wear out. They're also meeting up to celebrate Namjoon and Mai's upcoming wedding.

Namjoon and his fiancée, Mai, have been engaged for over a year, and with their wedding rapidly approaching, they thought it would be fun to get everyone together and unwind after all the wedding planning stress. Seokjin's wife, Jisoo, will also be joining, as they finally found someone to babysit their kids for the night.

Jisoo and Seokjin met during their university days. She was in med school while he was getting his postgraduate degree in business management. Jisoo thought it would be cute to set her best friend up with Seokjin's best friend, the two instantly hitting it off. Namjoon proposed during spring last year and they plan to get married in August, which is just two months away.

"Hey, just a heads up; Hana's coming too," Taehyung says, getting his car keys from his pants pocket, wincing slightly at the look on Jungkook's face.

Hana is Jisoo's younger sister, who happens to have a rather obvious crush on Jungkook. She occasionally tags along with the group, always finding an excuse to be on Jungkook's arm all night. She is far too forward for his taste, but Jungkook would never say that to her face, so he just smiles and nods along, tolerating her when he must.

"Great," he mutters sarcastically, preparing himself for a night of pretending to listen to her go on and on about why dying her hair blonde would suit her skin's undertone.

Taehyung stops at his car and notices you walking in their direction to get to your car, the one parked right next to Jungkook's. "Hey, look who it is," he murmurs with a smirk.

Jungkook turns his head, his heart rate rising when his eyes land on you. A soft smile spreads across his face as your eyes meet. "Hey."

"Hey, Jungkook," you greet, offering his friend a polite smile. Taehyung grins widely and steps closer, eager to introduce himself properly. "It's ___, right? You teach political science?"

You nod, recognising him as Jungkook’s friend. "That's right, yeah. Is it…Taehyun…?"

"Taehyung actually," he chuckles, clearly the extrovert out of the two men.

"You heading home?" Jungkook asks, turning your attention over to him.

"Yeah. You?"

"My friends are dragging me to some club tonight actually," Jungkook quips with an amused scoff, earning a surprised look from you.

"Wow. Who woulda thought the walls of a club would see Jeon Jungkook," you tease, wondering what it would be like to see him in that sort of environment.

Jungkook laughs, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. "Gotta start the summer off right, I guess. And it's to celebrate a friend's upcoming wedding, so..."

You nod understandingly. You keep it friendly, oblivious to just how much Taehyung already knows about the two of you.

"Well, I hope you enjoy yourself."

Before Jungkook can respond, Taehyung chimes in, unable to hold his tongue. "Why don't you join us?"

Jungkook looks over at Taehyung with wide eyes. He knows what his friend is trying to do. He's used to Taehyung trying to be his wingman and he appreciates it deep down inside, but the subtle glare he shoots him screams, 'Are you insane?' Taehyung simply smiles, so he looks back at you, noticing the surprise on your face at the sudden invitation. He fiddles with his keys in his hand, feeling like he's been put on the spot.

"Oh, I don't think ___ would want to-"

"Come on, it'll be fun." Taehyung turns to you, feeling confident that he can convince you to join. "You're Jungkook's friend, we'd love for you to join us. We're a lot of fun; you’ll have a good time."

You look over at Jungkook with uncertainty. He offers you a sheepish smile and a shrug, silently agreeing with Taehyung, even if he isn't as forward as his friend. He would have preferred to do things a bit more naturally, but Taehyung's way works too.

It's not necessarily that you don't want to go, but you already have plans with Jihyo tonight. Her date with Mark didn't go well, and after every bad date, she comes over to your place to have dinner and unpack everything that happened.

"I, uhh… I actually have a friend coming over for dinner later. But maybe next time-"

"You can both join us," Taehyung shrugs. He knows he probably seems really forward, but he knows Jungkook is too much of a pussy to actually go for what he wants.

You don't even have to check with Jihyo to know that she'd be more than happy to go. You know that if you reject Taehyung's offer, and then tell her about it later on, she'll just nag you about it all night, and you know she needs a night out after her train wreck of a date. So, with that in mind, you accept his invitation.

"Okay," you murmur, Taehyung's face lighting up as he looks over at Jungkook, the latter man feeling quite surprised that you actually agreed to join him and his friends. You are slightly surprised yourself, but it's a Friday evening, it's the start of summer break, and what's the harm in having some fun after such a long and stressful month.

Taehyung tells you where to meet them and what time, watching you drive off with a satisfied grin.

"Care to explain what all that was about?" Jungkook folds his arms over his chest with a raised eyebrow.

"Uhmm, you're welcome. I just got Hana off your back for the night, and you get to hang out with your girl. I just killed both of your birds with one stone," Taehyung grins, patting his friend on the back before walking to his car and getting in. "And hey, maybe her friend’s hot, so that's a bonus for me," he calls out, driving off before Jungkook can argue.

Your stilettos click against the pavement as you get out the Uber, looking up at the packed club, Jihyo reluctantly ending her conversation with the driver before shutting the door. It took absolutely zero convincing to get her to come with you. Taehyung told you to meet them at 9, but you're a bit late because Jihyo decided to wax her legs and armpits for the first time right before you had to leave.

The two of you walk through the crowded club, looking for Jungkook and his friends. The music is booming through the speakers, people are grinding on each other on the dance floor, your dress is short and sparkly, and the smell of alcohol fills your senses. You look through the crowd until you see a familiar face at the bar. Your heart starts to race in your chest at the sight of him. He's wearing a white tank top, baggy jeans and a black leather jacket, his hair styled to show off his forehead. He takes a small sip of his drink as he engages in conversation with Taehyung, and you wish his lips were on you instead of that glass.

"Is he here?" Jihyo asks over the loud music, oblivious to the heat rising in your face.

You nod, keeping your eyes on him. "Yeah. That's him over at the bar. Black leather jacket with the whiskey in his hand."

Jihyo scans the bar area, her eyes widening as they land on him. "Woah. He really is a ten," she muses, nodding in approval before her eyes flicker over to Taehyung, her mouth falling open in awe. "And that's his friend?"

"Yeah, that's Taehyung."

Jihyo scoffs. You told her Jungkook's friend is nice, you didn't tell her he's totally her type – smoking hot. "Thank God I'm wearing a push up bra."

You chuckle and make your way over with Jihyo following closely behind.

Jungkook senses your presence, his eyes landing on you as you make your way over, Taehyung's voice drowning out in the background. His eyes trail from your face down to your feet, his hands suddenly feeling a bit clammy at the sight of you in that short dress. He sets his drink down with a soft smile. "Hey. I was starting to think you wouldn't come."

"I couldn't leave you hanging," you call out over the music, Taehyung turning his head at the sound of your voice.

"___, hey!" His eyes drift over to Jihyo and his tongue suddenly feels too big for his mouth. She's far prettier than he expected, and his stomach does a little flip as her eyes roam over him. He quickly composes himself and decides to turn on the charm. "You must be ___'s friend," he calls out, holding his hand out to her.

"And you must be Jungkook's friend," Jihyo nods, shaking his hand. Damn, he's even better-looking up close.

"Taehyung," he smiles, holding onto her hand a little longer than necessary.

"Jihyo," she murmurs, holding eye contact.

"Can I buy you a drink, Jihyo?" Taehyung asks, tilting his head with a lazy little grin, neither one of them pulling their hand away just yet.

She looks over at you with raised eyebrows and a smile before nodding and walking off with him, making a mental note to text Mark and thank him for blowing their date.

You and Jungkook both watch them with amused smiles on your faces. "Your friend's smooth," you chuckle, watching them make their way to the other end of the bar.

Jungkook scoffs, leaning his elbows on the bar counter. "Tae's about as smooth as sandpaper."

You laugh, taking a seat next to him. "So, are you gonna offer to buy me a drink as well or...?"

He smiles over at you, his eyes sparkling under the club's dim lights. "I was getting to it...but, uhm...I don't even know your name, though..."

You look over at him with a puzzled smile before you realize what he's doing. You chuckle and roll your eyes, but decide to play along with his little role play anyway. "It's ___."

"___," he repeats in a quiet little murmur, taking your hand in his, bringing it to his lips to place a gentle kiss to your knuckles. "That's a pretty name," he grins, leaning in a bit closer. "You look so familiar. Are you, like, a model or something?"

"Shut up," you laugh, accidentally letting out a little snort. "Do you say that to every woman you meet at a club?"

"Nah," he shrugs, taking a sip of his whiskey, desperately trying to look suave. "Saved that line just for you, babygirl."

"Babygirl? Really?" You cringe, both of you bursting out into laughter.

"Yeah, I know, it felt wrong as soon as it came out of my mouth," he sighs, shaking his head.

"Let's try that again. Do you say that to every woman you meet?"

"Just you, baby." His voice is softer, more sincere. He really means it. He's not the best at flirting, but he’ll do or say anything to make you laugh or put a smile on your face.

You hum, nodding in approval, your stomach doing a little flip at the pet name. "Better."

"I try," he shrugs with a grin, his eyes trailing down to your outfit. You always look good to him, but seeing you in such a short, skimpy dress is doing some funny things to his heart...and his dick.

"You really do look gorgeous, by the way," he murmurs, his eyes slowly trailing back up to your face, his fingers itching to touch you.

"Thank you. You don't look too bad yourself," you smile, meeting his eyes.

He scoffs, pretending to be offended. "I was expecting you to be jumping my bones already, but I guess I'll take that."

You laugh, rolling your eyes. "You look very nice, okay?"

"Thanks," he mumbles, a satisfied grin settling on his face. "Now, can I buy you a drink?"

"I'd love a drink."

"Anything in mind?"

"Surprise me," you shrug.

He calls the bartender over and orders a pineapple margarita. He knows you like tropical fruit, and he didn't want to get you something that would get you hammered just yet.

The bartender makes your drink and sets it down on the counter before you, adding it to Jungkook's tab. You take a sip and hum at the delicious taste. "This is really good."

"Is it?" he smiles, leaning in closer. "Can I have a sip?"

You hold the glass out for him and watch as his lips wrap around the sugary rim, his tongue quickly peeking out to lick the sugar off his top lip.

"Wow, that is good. I should've taken one of those too."

"What about your whiskey?"

He shrugs with a faint smile. "I don't even like whiskey, I just wanted to order it to look cool."

You laugh, finding it quite amusing that someone as hot as him can be this much of a dork. The sound of your laughter makes his smile grow wider, his heart fluttering. He doesn't even seem to notice how many women would kill to be sitting with him because he's too busy staring at you with a dopey look on his face.

You take another sip of your drink, his eyes watching the way your lips move, the way your fingers hold the glass, the way your thighs look in your little dress.

"You know what they say about pineapple, right?" he murmurs with heavy-lidded eyes, leaning over to drape his arm over the back of your bar stool.

"What do they say?"

He leans in to whisper in your ear, his lips lightly brushing against your skin. "Makes your pussy taste sweeter."

Your breath hitches in your throat, almost choking on your drink. "They say that?" you ask, looking up into his eyes with flushed cheeks.

"Mm." It's like a switch has gone off, his persona completely changed. He moves his free hand down to your knee, his fingers slowly trailing up your thigh. "Maybe I should taste it and see for myself if it's true. Y'know...for science..."

You and Jungkook make a beeline for the bathroom, the dim lights concealing you from any wandering eyes. He leads you into one of the bathroom stalls, locking the door behind you. He pushes you up against the stall, his lips on yours in an instant, kissing you hungrily. His hands explore up your thighs under your dress, finally getting to touch you the way he's been wanting to since he laid his eyes on you.

He kisses and nibbles down to your neck, grinding his hips against you, his need for you growing more apparent as a bulge starts straining against his jeans.

Your hands slide up into his hair, moaning softly as he slides his tongue into your mouth.

His fingers trail up to your thong, pulling it aside to run his middle finger through your slick folds. He groans into your mouth as he feels how wet you are. You're already dripping and he's barely done anything yet. He slides his finger up to rub slow circles over your clit. "You're so hot," he mutters, nipping at the junction between your neck and shoulder.

You tilt your head back against the stall, biting your bottom lip to muffle any sounds that threaten to slip out of you. "Is it...unhygienic that I'm...letting you finger me in a club's bathroom s-stall?" You try to keep your voice stable, your hands gripping his shoulders to steady yourself.

"Wanna stop?" he asks, chuckling as you frantically shake your head. He withdraws his hand and brings it up to his lips to suck on his middle finger, tasting your essence. "You taste better than any pineapple I've ever tasted," he hums, his eyes growing dark with desire.

Your arousal overpowers any concerns you might have had, feeling a jolt of excitement run down your spine. You watch as he slowly drops down to his knees before you, his hands disappearing under your dress to pull your thong down your legs, putting the wet string of fabric in the back pocket of his jeans.

He licks his lips at the sight of you, his hands trailing up your thighs, pulling you closer to his face. The smell of your arousal hangs heavily in the air as he lifts one of your legs and drapes it over his shoulder, his hands splayed over the backs of your thighs.

"Gotta be nice and quiet for me, yeah?"

You look down at him, your cheeks flushed, pupils dilated. You nod quickly, gasping as he presses a light kiss to your clit, your stomach muscles tensing momentarily.

He chuckles, watching you grow a bit flustered. He feels powerful being on his knees in front of you, knowing that he holds such an effect over you. He starts slow, lightly kissing your clit, his tongue peeking out to give you a few gentle licks, keeping his eyes up to watch your face.

He watches the way your lips part and your eyebrows furrow, your breath hitching in your chest as he starts lapping at your pussy. The music thumps through the walls, people's voices echoing just outside. If someone were to hear you moan, they'd know that he's getting you off, eating your pussy like it's the tastiest thing on earth.

He lifts your knee higher to get better access to your pussy, your eyes rolling back in your head as he sucks on your clit.

"F-fuck, Jungkook," you moan, trying to be as quiet as possible.

He feels a surge of satisfaction that he can make you squirm in pleasure. He moves his tongue with a fierce determination, his fingers digging into your thighs, his cock straining against his jeans at the sound of your breathless moans.

He reaches down and undoes the button of his jeans with one hand, unzipping it to pull his cock out, needing some relief. He starts lazily stroking it while his free hand slides between your thighs, pushing his index and middle fingers into your sopping entrance.

The sight of him pleasuring himself, mixed with the sensations of his tongue and fingers is almost enough to make you cum right that instant. You hold onto the door of the stall with one hand, the other gripping his hair as your high starts creeping up on you.

"Mmm...'m gonna cum," you whine, biting your bottom lip so hard, you almost draw blood.

He curls his fingers inside you, finding that spongy spot that makes your knees go weak. His tongue laps at your clit, your body tensing and trembling, trying desperately not to scream out as your orgasm suddenly washes over you, harsh jolts of pleasure rushing through you.

He rides you through it, pressing soft kisses to your throbbing pussy and inner thighs, looking up at you with a dazed look in his eyes. He stands up and licks his lips and fingers clean, his hard cock standing tall through his open zipper.

"Damn," he mutters, his voice slightly out of breath. "That theory might be right."

You let out a breathless huff of laughter, your legs tingling, your pussy pulsating. He steadies you with his strong hands on your hips, letting you taste your juices on his tongue as he kisses you.

You reach down and wrap your hand around his cock, giving it a few pumps. "Fuck me," you whisper against his lips, feeling his cock twitch in your palm, his breath hitching at the feeling.

He can only nod, too lost in his own lust to speak, his mind completely clouded by desire. He spins you around, pinning you to the stall, his chest pressed to your back. He pulls your hips back, grinding his cock against your ass.

"Gonna let me fuck this ass one day?" he teases, knowing you'll shut him down like you have before.

"Don't even think about it," you scoff, teasingly pushing your ass back against him.

"Worth a shot," he grins, tapping the head of his cock against your asscheek before aligning it with your entrance, a soft moan slipping from your lips as he pushes it in.

His eyes close as he sinks into you, his forehead falling forward against your shoulder. He groans at the feeling of you clenching around him, your tight, wet heat sucking him in. "Shit, you're so tight," he mutters, thrusting into you, his hands sliding up to your chest, giving your breasts a squeeze over your dress.

The pace is slow and steady at first, the constant thump of the bass and the muffled voices outside serving as a reminder that you're in a public bathroom. He soon starts to get lost in the feeling of you wrapped around him, his thrusts getting a little less controlled. He lets out soft grunts into your ear as he fucks you from behind, his eyes squeezing shut as he focuses on the feeling of your walls wrapped around him.

Then the sound of people entering the bathroom snaps him back to reality, his thrusts slowing down. He quickly covers your mouth with his large hand, his lips brushing against your ear. "Shhh, baby," he whispers softly, the tip of his cock still sitting snug between your walls.

You squeeze your eyes shut and concentrate on not being too loud, his cock inside you making it increasingly difficult. He slows his thrusts down to a languid rhythm, the thrill of other people nearby making it feel sexier, dirtier. "Good girl," he whispers, giving you a particularly deep thrust, his palm pressed firmly over your mouth to muffle your moans, his free hand moving down to rub tight circles over your clit.

You hear the sound of the girls' voices as they touch up their makeup at the sinks, mixed with the loud thumping music outside. Jungkook doesn't let up, thrusting harder to test your ability to keep quiet. It makes your head spin and your pussy throb.

After what feels like an eternity, the girls leave the bathroom, and it's like your body knew to wait, because your orgasm hits you almost immediately. Jungkook keeps thrusting, chasing his own high. You know he's close, his moans growing louder, his thrusts getting sloppier.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum...where do you want it?"

"In my mouth."

He quickly pulls out and watches as you drop to your knees before him, wrapping your lips around his cock. You suck on the head and stroke the shaft, looking up at his through your lashes.

One look down at you and he's cumming with a low groan, his hips stuttering as he empties himself in your mouth, his hand gripping the back of your hair. His chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath, watching as you swallow every last drop, his stomach muscles tensing and relaxing as you lick him clean.

He helps you up and grabs some toilet paper to clean you off. He makes sure your dress is straight and your hair isn't messed up before you leave. As you're about to leave the bathroom stall, he pulls you back and gently grabs your chin, tilting your head up to give you a slow, deep kiss. He tastes himself on your tongue, mixed with some of your pineapple margarita.

"You taste good," he hums.

"Yeah? What do I taste like?"

"Pineapple and cum."

"You're disgusting," you laugh.

He chuckles, giving you one last peck before pulling away and opening the stall door for you, landing a quick slap on your ass as you walk out in front of him.

Jungkook leads you through the crowd of sweaty people to get to his friends' booth, the guys all there already. He knows his friends can be a bit much sometimes, but he has a feeling they’ll like you. Taehyung and Jihyo are already at the booth, the two getting well acquainted.

"Everyone, this is ___," he calls out over the music, sliding into the booth to sit next to Seokjin and Jisoo.

"Kook, I didn't know you have a girlfriend now," Mai smiles over at you, looking excited to meet you.

"Oh, I’m not- ...we’re just friends," you murmur with a faint smile.

"Oh my God, I’m sorry, I thought…" she trails off, feeling a bit bad for assuming.

"It's okay," you chuckle, sliding in next to Jungkook. "It’s nice to meet you all," you smile, immediately being welcomed by his friends. You learn who each of his friends are, that Jisoo is Seokjin’s wife, that they have two kids, and that Namjoon and Mai are the happy couple about to get married. They all ask you a bit about yourself, curious to know who Jungkook’s lady "friend" is.

"You work at the university too, right?" Jimin asks, getting acquainted with you straight away.

"Yeah, I teach political science," you nod, quickly learning that he’s the outgoing one Jungkook told you about before.

"That's impressive," Namjoon muses, his arm slung around Mai’s shoulders.

Jungkook leans over to talk to you over the music, giving you a little insight of each of his friends. "Seokjin is the CFO of YJ Tech and Jisoo is a cardiologist."

"Wow," you quip, giving Jisoo an impressed look. "A cardiologist? That’s impressive."

"Please," Taehyung scoffs playfully, shrugging his shoulder. "A PhD is just as impressive as an MD."

"So, you're saying that teaching literature to 20 year olds is equally as impressive as doing open heart surgery?" Jimin asks, shaking his head in amusement.

"You're saying it's not?"

"Right, because if I’m having a heart attack, I want you there to read me a poem."

While the attention is now on Jimin and Taehyung's bickering, Jisoo's sister, Hana, turns her attention over to you. She has been silently watching you for a while, watching the way Jungkook leans in to whisper in your ear, the way he smiles whenever you speak. It makes her stomach twist in jealousy, and she's having a hard time hiding it, basically piercing you with her eyes. With everyone else preoccupied, she uses the opportunity to finally speak up.

"So, ___ was it? I'm Hana."

You look over at her, offering her a polite smile, completely oblivious to her one-sided animosity towards you. "It's nice to meet you."

She gives you a curt smile, her eyes flickering over to Jungkook. "Kookie, you never told me about your friend before. You guys seem...close."

Jungkook picks up on her snarky tone, but he ignores it. "We are, yeah," he murmurs, looking over at you with a little smile.

Hana looks between the two of you, mentally rolling her eyes. "Jungkook, did you notice I cut my hair? It looks good, right?"

He sighs, giving her a half-hearted smile. "It looks nice, Hana."

She smiles, fluffing her bob, her long, manicured nails tucking some of it behind her ear. She's a pretty girl, with sharp features and trendy style. She's quite confident, so she can't understand why Jungkook's eyes keep drifting over to you and not her.

"I love your hair," you smile, your tone soft and sincere. "I don't think I could pull off a bob."

"Yeah, well, not everyone has the face for it."

You're a bit taken aback by her tone, but you don't read too much into it, instead turning your attention back to Jungkook. He gives you a smile, his fingers trailing up your thigh under the table, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"You have the face for any hairstyle," he whispers, causing your cheeks to heat up.

Jisoo and Mai on the other hand are far more welcoming than Hana, the two immediately hitting it off with you. Mai especially has taken a liking to you, the two of you finding a comfortable rhythm as you get to know each other. You find out that you have a lot in common. She's great to talk to, she's super funny, and she's stunning, so you see why Namjoon is head over heels for her.

"___, c'mon, let's go do some shots!" she squeals, dragging you along with her to the bar. Jungkook watches the two of you with a soft smile on his face, chuckling as you look back at him with wide eyes. It's nice to see his friends getting to know the woman he thinks so highly of, and he hopes this is a step in the right direction for you and him.

Some of the guys and Jisoo go off to get some drinks, and Taehyung and Jihyo hit the dance floor together, leaving Hana alone with Jungkook. She gets up and slides into his side of the booth, sitting closer than he would like.

"Long time no see, stranger. You too busy with your new friend to send me a text?"

Jungkook clears his throat and shoots her a curt smile, wishing he were anywhere else right now.

"I've been busy with work, Hana," he scoffs. "And ___'s not a new friend. We've been friends for four years actually."

"You've never mentioned her before."

"I didn't think I had to," he shrugs.

She rolls her eyes, brushing her fingers along his bicep, her long nails lightly trailing along the leather of his jacket. "You should hit me up some time...when you're not too busy. I could help you unwind a bit," she purrs, looking up at him with her sultry eyes.

"That's okay, I don't think I need to unwind."

"You're such a stick in the mud," she sighs, rolling her eyes. "You should loosen up a bit. Have some fun once in a while."

He scoffs, his eyes trailing over to you at the bar, watching the way you laugh and chat with Mai, how pretty you look when you're carefree, the way your eyes subtly drift over to him when you think he's not looking.

"Believe me...I have plenty of fun," he murmurs, unable to take his eyes off you.

You end up having way more to drink than you initially planned, you and Mai downing shot after shot. With every shot Mai pushes into your hands, the more fun things start to feel.

"So! You and Jungkook," Mai grins after downing another shot of tequila. "What's the situation there, hm?"

"The situation?" you ask, your eyes subtly widening. "What do you mean?"

Mai chuckles, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She can tell the question caught you off guard a bit, but she genuinely wants to know. She isn't trying to pry or make you uncomfortable when you just met a while ago, but she isn't one to beat around the bush.

"Come on, don't play coy," she scoffs, giving you a pointed look.

"We're just friends," you mutter with a faint chuckle. "We work at the same university, we get along great, we're friends. Simple as that."

Mai raises an eyebrow at your answer, her intuition telling her there's more to the story than you're letting on. She grins at you, a knowing look in her eyes. "Oh really? Just friends, huh?" She glances in Jungkook's direction for a brief moment before returning to you.

"Mhm. That's all it is." You immediately down another shot, avoiding her eyes.

Mai studies you for a moment, her gaze quite perceptive. She can see there's a bit of defensiveness in the way you brush off her question, but she decides not to press any further, not wanting to put you on the spot. "Alright, alright...if that's what you say," she says with a small smirk, although she knows there's more to the story. Your gazes linger a bit too long for you to be 'just friends'.

You roll your eyes with a faint chuckle, turning the conversation over to her. "You and Namjoon, though. You make a great couple."

"Thanks! We are kind of adorable, aren't we?" She looks down at her ring and her expression softens. It's clear she's truly smitten with him, and him with her.

"How long have you been together?"

"We've been together for about seven years now," she smiles fondly. She leans her elbow on the bar counter, resting her chin in her palm. "I swear it feels like I've known him my whole life. I can't wait to marry him."

The subject of weddings and marriage is a bit of a sore subject for you, but you don't want to take away from Mai and Namjoon's moment, so you nod and smile, not wanting to dwell on your own misfortune. "I can tell. You're good together."

"Thank you," she murmurs with a soft smile. "Speaking of the wedding, we're actually taking a little pre-wedding trip to Jeju in two weeks. My parents have a beach house there and they never use it so we thought it would be fun to get everyone together. You should come!"

Your eyebrows raise in surprise, not expecting an invitation from someone you met an hour or two ago. "Really? You want me to come?"

"Yeah, it'll be fun! You can come as Jungkook's plus-one," she smiles, clapping her hands together in excitement before reaching over to take your hands in hers. "Will you?"

You're a bit skeptical about spending three days in Jeju with Jungkook and his friends, who you just met, but Mai seems so happy and you don't want to disappoint her. "O-Okay...yeah, I'd love to."

Mai orders another round of shots as a little celebration for you agreeing to join them on their trip, and by the time you finish them, you're both too tipsy to care about how loud you're both laughing or how bad your headache will be tomorrow.

When Jungkook comes to look for you, he finds you and Mai toppling over the bar counter in laughter about something she just said.

"Hey. How much did this one make you drink?" he asks with an amused smile, finding it kinda cute how drunk you are. He's not used to seeing you like this, but you seem to be having fun.

"Hey! Mai invited me to Jeju! Apparently I'm your plus-one!"

This is news to him, but not necessarily bad news. In fact, he's quite happy to hear that you'll be joining him on the trip.

"That's great," he nods with a soft smile, brushing some of your hair out of your face.

"I'm gonna go find Joon!" Mai says, giving you a few flying kisses before hurrying off to find her fiancé and presumably make out.

"You're pretty drunk. Maybe we should get you home," he smiles, gently rubbing your back.

"Nooo," you whine, dramatically tilting your head back to look up at him. "I don't wanna go home. I wanna dance. I love this song!"

You get up too fast and stumble, holding onto Jungkook for support. He holds you by your waist, making sure you don't trip over your high heels. "Okay, missy. I think I should get us an Uber."

He leads you out the club, shooting his friends a quick text to let them know he's heading out. The cool evening breeze hits you as you stand on the sidewalk, making you shiver. Jungkook notices, so he quickly removes his leather jacket and gently drapes it around your shoulders, clearly not bothered that he's wearing a thin tank. He'll stand in the cold if it means you're warm.

He orders an Uber to his apartment, standing with you in the cool evening air, his free arm resting around your waist to make sure you don't trip or stumble.

"Where are we going?"

"My apartment. You can stay over and I can drive you home tomorrow. Is that okay?"

Usually, you wouldn't stay the night at his place, but it's not usual circumstances. You're drunk, your feet hurt, and you just want to lie down, so you simply nod and give him consent to take you back to his place.

"What about Jihyo? I should text her."

"I just saw her with Tae with a minute ago. They seemed pretty cozy," he chuckles. "He said he'd give her a ride home, but you should probably still text her to let her know you're leaving."

You get your phone out and try to text her, but the keyboard looks a bit blurry, so you opt for a voice message, getting a thumbs up and an eggplant emoji in return.

The Uber eventually arrives and Jungkook holds the door for you, helping you inside before sliding in next to you. He lets you rest your head on his shoulder the whole way back to his apartment, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over your knee. "You sleepy?"

You nod, your eyes already starting to droop.

When the Uber drops you at the front of his apartment building, he sees the way you wince as you try to walk to the entrance, so he silently kneels down before you and helps you out of his heels, letting them dangle from his fingers as he turns around and gestures for you to get on his back.

You look down at him with a faint smile, slowly wrapping your arms around his neck, letting him give you a piggyback ride up to his apartment. "Thank you," you mumble into his neck, his cologne filling your nose.

"You don't have to thank me, baby."

The pet name rolls off his tongue so naturally, so sweetly, and usually you'd make a little joke or tease him about it, but you don't. You smile and try to ignore the butterflies going crazy in your stomach.

He gently sets you down when you reach his apartment, getting his keys from his jacket pocket to unlock the front door. He leads you inside, just like he normally would when you're over here, but this time he's not rushing to undress you or stick his tongue down your throat. His touches are gentle, and slow, and soft as he leads you to his bedroom and helps you change into an old t-shirt of his. He gets some wet wipes from the bathroom and gently removes your makeup for you. He puts toothpaste on his spare toothbrush for you and stands by your side while you brush your teeth. He goes to the kitchen and gets you a glass of water and an Advil for the headache he knows you'll have tomorrow morning, making sure you drink it.

He pulls back the duvet for you and helps you get settled in. He gently lays the duvet over you and brushes some of your hair out of your eyes, looking down at you with so much care and protectiveness. He sits on the edge of his bed and watches as you try your best to keep your eyes open, his smile growing wide enough to hurt his cheeks.

"So, you're joining us in Jeju, huh? How exactly did that happen?"

"Mai invited me. She's sweet. I think we really hit it off. We took a lot of shots," you mumble sleepily.

"Yeah, I saw," he scoffs. "That's why you're so drunk."

You chuckle, your eyes slowly falling closed.

"I'm really glad you're coming, by the way."

"You are?"

"I am," he murmurs softly, his gaze lingering on your tired face. He likes seeing you in his bed, a peaceful look on your face, your cheeks still flushed from the alcohol, your hair splayed over his pillow. You're almost too pretty to be real. He watches you for a while before reluctantly getting up to change out of his clothes.

You watch with heavy-lidded eyes as he gets up to go and change in the bathroom, smiling up at him when he returns in nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants. Your expression changes to one of confusion when he gets a pillow and turns to walk to the living room.

"Where're you going?" you ask, your voice soft and sleepy.

"To sleep on the couch. I know you don't do the whole 'sleeping in bed together' thing, with your rules and all..."

He's right. You don't do the 'sleeping in bed together' thing. So why do you feel so disappointed that he's going to be sleeping on the couch instead of the other side of the bed?

"You don't have to sleep on the couch, y'know. This is your home. You should sleep in your bed...with me..."

He stops in the doorway, looking over at you with wide eyes, his heart hammering in his chest. He never thought he'd ever hear those words coming from your mouth, and he isn't sure if he's the drunk one or if you actually said it.

"I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable or anything-"

"I'm not."

He stays in the doorway for a few seconds, thinking this can't be real, but when he keeps blinking and you don't disappear, it sets in that it's real. He slowly makes his way back to bed, setting his pillow down and carefully getting under the covers with you, keeping a respectful distance. He has seen you naked and bent you in unspeakable positions, but he knows that simply sleeping in bed together is different for you. He knows that it's about more than what it appears to be, so he keeps a distance because you simply being here is enough for him.

Jungkook turns to face you, watching as the moonlight shines in through his bedroom window, a silvery glow illuminating your face. He feels a strong urge to touch you, not in any way sexual, but to just be physically closer to you. When you slowly turn your back to him, he's met with disappointment, but your next words cause a smile to break out onto his face.

"Can you give me back scratches?" you mumble sleepily, you voice sounding a bit groggy from the alcohol and exhaustion.

He stays still for a moment, just wanting to bask in this moment a bit. He slowly inches closer and reaches out to slide his hand up under the fabric of the oversized t-shirt you're wearing, and ever so lightly run his nails along the skin of your back. You're warm, and soft, and your skin is stained with his scent as you lay in his clothes, on his bedsheets. He doesn't say anything because words aren't necessary in this moment. He just slowly runs his nails over your back and listens as your breathing starts slowing down.

Jungkook doesn't fall sleep until it's well into the early hours of the morning. Not because he wasn't tired, but because he forced himself to stay awake. If he allowed himself to fall asleep, the moment would end, so he watched the back of your head until his eyes burned with exhaustion, and he caressed your back until his arm dropped limply to the mattress. He thinks that's what love is. He was never confident enough to say that he's ever fallen in love before, but if anyone were to ask him about love, he'd tell them about you. It was never obvious that he would fall for you. It didn't happen all at once. It wasn't immediate. He thought you were pretty, and he liked your company, but then somehow you slowly crept up under his flesh and made a home for yourself in the depths of his chest. He knows that he loves you, and if you are ever to be laid to rest in the dirt and soil, he will be envious of the earth that gets to hold your body.

You're still quite groggy when you wake up. The sun looks like it has already been out for a few hours, and if it didn't make your head hurt, you'd probably appreciate it. You slowly turn around to find a sleeping Jungkook. He's cute when he sleeps. His lips are pouty, his cheeks flushed, his hair a little bit messy. You realize that you've never seen him asleep before.

You don't get to enjoy it for too long before he starts stirring awake, his eyes slowly fluttering open. He smiles when his eyes land on you, and you mirror his expression. That sunlight streaming in through his window doesn't feel so annoying now that it's illuminating his face, making his glassy eyes sparkle.

"Morning." His voice. It's deep, a little raspy and husky, and it makes your thighs rub together.

"Morning."

"How're you feeling?"

"Not too bad. My head hurts a bit but I'm okay," you smile, inching a millimetre closer. "Thanks for letting me stay over. I probably wouldn't have been able to find my keys in my purse last night anyway."

He chuckles, a low rumble coming from deep within his chest. "It's no problem. You can stay anytime you want."

If it were up to him, you'd stay every night.

You watch as the duvet slides down to reveal his chest and arms, the muscles involuntarily flexing and relaxing. You've always liked his body. He's just the right amount of muscular. His skin is soft and smooth, and when he cums, he has this thin sheen of sweat that makes him glow.

You've barely woken up, you shouldn't be thinking about what he looks like when he cums. But you do, and you can't seem to think about anything else at the moment.

You slowly inch closer to him, your chests almost touching. You look up at his face, and the sleepy smile that resides there tells you he knows what you're doing and he welcomes it. He stays silent as you gently run your fingers through his hair, his eyes fluttering shut as he leans into your touch, looking a bit like Miso when you pet her. He doesn't say anything when you slowly trail your fingers down his neck and chest, making a slow descent down to the waistband of his sweatpants. Only when your fingers inch inside does he speak.

"What're you doing?" he asks with a lazy grin.

"Wanna say thank you for last night," you whisper, leaning in to softly kiss his neck, your fingers trailing down to his neatly trimmed pubic hair.

"You don't...have to," he sighs, his eyes fluttering shut.

"I want to," you whisper, tugging on the waistband of his sweatpants. "Take these off."

He reaches down and slides his sweatpants down his legs, having forgone boxers last night. He's on his back, with the duvet pushed down to his thighs, the sun heating up his skin. He has a bit of morning wood, so it makes it easier for you to wrap your fingers around him, his skin feeling warm and soft beneath your touch.

You start languidly pulling and pushing your hand up and down his shaft, his cock hardening in your hand. His eyes flutter shut, his breathing growing ragged.

"Feel good?"

"Yeah...feels...feels good, baby..."

You lean your body up on your elbow while stroking him, pressing gentle kisses to his neck and jaw. You quickly pull away to bring your hand up and spit in it, the lubricant making it feel even better. You glide you hand up and down his cock, twisting your wrist at the tip.

"Mmm...don't stop," he groans, his voice husky from sleep. He subtly rolls his hips up to meet your strokes, his abs flexing as the pleasure rolls through his body. He slowly opens his eyes to look up at you, his gaze filled with lust and affection. He brings his hand up to bring your face closer, capturing your lips in a soft, languid kiss. He runs his tongue along your bottom lip, seeking entrance into your mouth.

You part your lips and let him lick into your mouth, his tongue brushing against yours. You stroke him faster, your fist tightening around him. His tip is already leaking, the head turning a light pink.

"Fuck," he groans, his eyes squeezing shut, his fingers sliding up under the t-shirt you're wearing to cup your breast, his thumb brushing over your nipple.

"This is a really...nice way to s-say thank you," he murmurs, his voice shaking, his thighs tensing.

"Yeah?"

"Mmmm...feels s-so good..."

His head falls back against the pillows with a soft thud, finding it hard to focus as you speed up your hand. He looks like he's struggling to keep his eyes open, the expression on his face absolutely blissful.

"Fuck, I'm close," he whimpers, his hand involuntarily squeezing your breast. His face is scrunched up in pleasure, his eyebrows are furrowed, his hair is messy. His cock leaks profusely, the head turning a darker red colour. It's a beautiful sight to see, him writhing in pleasure, his muscles tensing, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he tries to prolong the pleasure.

You lean in to whisper in his ear, your teeth nipping his earlobe, your breath hot on his neck.

"Cum for me, Jungkook..."

It's like a dam breaks, thick white ropes of cum painting his abdomen and chest, a deep groan rumbling from his chest. A string of curses falls from his lips, his body jerking as the aftershocks of his orgasm flow through him.

You run your middle finger through his cum and bring it up to your lips, licking it clean.

"You taste good in the morning."

He looks up at you with heavy-lidded eyes and a goofy smile on his face. He lifts his head to press a tender kiss to your lips, his cock twitching against his stomach. Watching you lick his cum off your fingers is such a turn-on, it's almost embarrassing.

"I feel selfish not returning the favour."

"It's okay," you smile. "I just wanted to do that for you."

You run your fingers through his hair, watching the way his eyes fall closed once more, his body relaxing into the mattress. He has a glow to him, and you didn't think it was possible, but he looks even more handsome right after he cums.

The two of you stay like that for a while before reluctantly getting up to go clean off. He takes a shower while you wait in the living room, wearing last night's dress and heels. While he's in the shower, you think back to the night before, the feeling of his nails on your back, the smell of his bedsheets, how perfect his t-shirt fit. It all makes your stomach feel funny. You smile to yourself as you think of him, how gentle and caring of a man he is.

When he walks out into the living room wearing a fresh set of clothes, his hair styled neatly, his glasses resting on the bridge of his nose, your heart beats a little bit faster, and when he drives you home, you look over at him with a soft look in your eyes. He stops at a cafe on the way to your apartment and you get two breakfast bagels, even though it's already nearly noon. You insist on paying and he fights you on it, quickly handing the cashier his card before you manage to get yours out of your purse. When you sit in his car in the parking lot and eat your bagels together, your heart feels light and the conversation feels easy, your laughter and teasing remarks filling his car.

When he parks his car outside of your building and walks you up to your apartment, you don't feel that anxious pit in your stomach that you would normally feel after spending a bit too much time with him. So, when you stop in front of your door and he bids you goodbye, you gently grab his wrist before he can turn around and walk away. You stop him, and you kiss him. You wrap your arms around his neck and you kiss him slowly and tenderly. You kiss him until you both have to pull away for air, and then you give him a few more kisses before pulling away with a little smile.

"What was that for?" he whispers, his smile mirroring yours.

"Another 'thank you', I guess."

He leans in and presses one final kiss to your lips, his hands holding your waist, his nose brushing against yours as be reluctantly pulls away.

"That was 'you're welcome'."

< Part 3 || Part 5 >

[aemndxx]

rafe n reader cuddlingg

𝓇.cameron. ┆ his pretty girl.

◟ ㅤᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁.﹒ sry this request took so long, my life is v hectic atm − but don't worry, ur req will be published sooner or later, jus' pls be patient n kind with me, thx. ! 𝓍𝑜𝓍𝑜. ♡ྀི

"mmm, y'good, baby?" rafe murmurs against the bare skin of your back, pulling you backwards tighter against himself—he had his whole body wrapped around you, possessively and nearly desperate, needing to be close to you.

you nod meekly, eyes still fluttering and puffy and a bit weepy from all of the fucking you two had just done, your body feeling completely spent and drained, completely limp in your boyfriend's arms.

"y-yes, daddy," you mewl softly, a sweet, gentle and breathy feminine sound, causing rafe to smirk against your soft skin, beginning to press gentle, open-mouthed kisses all over the back of your neck, then down to your shoulders and pretty collarbones, and then, finally, he reaches the side of your throat, sucking on a small patch of skin right below your ear, which turns into a violent, reddish shade like the rest of them, almost looking like blossoming red roses scattered across your pretty, delicate little neck.

"always..." rafe breathes long and hard, pausing for a moment, his mind spinning for a few seconds as he blinks a few times, trying to gather his words together, before deciding to just continue to say the sappy, lovey dovey shit that he knew you always loved hearing, not caring since it was just you and him.

"always so goddamn pretty like this f'me, baby," rafe coos softly into your ear once he finished sucking another lovemark, making you let out a small, girlish whine in question, your brain foggy and dreamlike after nearly four rounds of fucking.

earlier, rafe was in a pretty foul mood, downright pissed off at something or someone, you weren't really sure after he returned from the cut, but after seeing you... even though he would never say it aloud, he melted at the mere sight of you, sitting there all patiently, still sitting there in his bedroom like he told you earlier—just like a good, obedient little girl, looking so fucking pretty and so happy to see him.

it made rafe's heart skip several beats when you, his pretty girl, rushed over and immediately jumped into his strong, thick, muscular arms, trusting that he would catch you—which he did, of course—pressing glossy kisses all over his lips, chin and neck, claiming how much you'd missed him.

rafe couldn't deny that he felt exactly the same way, so he whispered it to you, murmuring it lowly into your neck, still getting used to expressing a softer, more gentler side with you, his first, real girlfriend—but rafe swears, every moment he spends with you since you two made it official, or rather, he had made it official one day after referring to you as 'his girl', and now, rafe finds it getting easier letting his guard down around you each day.

and oh, he was so fucked when he realized that before really even knowing you, and yes, he was obsessed with you for a bit, but he's come to the recent conclusion that he has always been deeply, and irrevocably in love with you—which scared the fuck out of him at first, but now? not so much, at least, not anymore.

"i look pretty?" you ask shyly, kiss-swollen lips twisting into a cute pout as you look over your shoulder at rafe, who is laid behind you, curled up around your flushed body and holding you as close as he physically can—and if rafe could, he would merge yourselves together so he could always be with you, touching you, but for right now, in this sweet, and loving moment as you both come down from your blissful highs, he feels content with just holding you in his arms like this, cuddling you.

hearing your shy, innocent little question, it makes rafe let out a low, little chuckle, before he lifts one large hand up and turns your face towards his, squishing your cheeks slightly in the process with his fingers holding onto your soft cheeks, pressing them together and making your plump lips slightly pucker, his index finger and thumb holding you in place for him as he just simply looks down at you, observing you with that usual, intense, blue eyed gaze.

however, you don't seem to mind, even with his firm, possessive grip, you loved when rafe was affectionate with you—and as your relationship with him continued, he was becoming more and more so, always needing to touch you, kiss you, hold you, and fuck you like he wanted nothing more than to impregnate you.

with that thought in mind, a shiver goes down your spine, with you both still completely nude, you obediently let him guide your head until it was in the position he wanted, allowing him to brush his lips over yours, breathing you in as his eyes flutter for a small moment, as if in awe of you.

"yeah, yea... real, real fuckin' pretty, baby."

[wifeyoozi]

Kim Mingyu : Best Friend Rule 57

w.c : 1.6 k ┊ synopsis : the 57th rule of the bestfriend rule book states, "thou must giveth a head to thy bestie in the time of need." ┊ content warning : smut ,, best friends to ...?? ,, blowjobs ,, gn!reader ,, coming down the throat

a/n : mdni !! not completely beta read. This is just me being horny af for mingyu recently.

This is fine, Mingyu thinks. He has shared rooms before. He has shared rooms with you before as well – with his best friend and, for a long while now, his crush. He could do this. He forces his focus on the sappy rom-com movie playing on the cable TV in the hotel room from the fact that you are pressed closed against him on the hotel bed, sharing packet popcorn with him. You are mostly eating it, he's barely even watching the movie.

Some time ago after you settled on the bed beside him, you'd huddled over to him, “Gyu, scoot over. The TV is kinda weird, I can't see properly unless I'm looking right from the centre,” You said as you snuggled against him.

Snuggled against him, until you were pressing your bare thighs to his clothed ones and your arms pressed up till there was a thin sweaty layer in between, your head resting on his shoulder.

He tried to change his position a little, gripping on the comforter tighter around his waist, just hoping you wouldn't notice his, well, little developing problem in his sweatpants.

The movie ended too soon after that and you sighed, “fun movie to waste a Saturday on, no?”

Mingyu hums, about to suggest another movie, because he's a sucker in love who'd spend two more hours suffering in silence in his pants to spend some quality time with his crush.

Instead, you opened your phone screen, reading a text, “uh, the team is doing a campfire night, you wanna join? They brought beer and all.”

“Uhm, no I'll pass tonight. A little tired,” Mingyu said with a smile as you stood up and yawned, stretching your limbs a little. The last thing he wants is to take his little problem outside this room to the rest of the coed basketball team. He'd never heard the end of it from soonyoung, and the thought alone makes him wanna die already.

He watched as you stretched your arms, your shirt sticking tight to your chest, your nipples pebbled under prominently visible. He has never looked away faster. Were you not wearing anything under that flimsy shirt? Were you planning to go to the rest of the team like that? The thought simultaneously made mingyu jealous and turned on and he tried not to let either show up on his face.

“Alright, suit yourself! Don't miss me too much,” you said, winking playfully as you walked outside the room, closing the door behind you.

Mingyu let out a big breath he didn't know he had been holding. He shakes his head before getting up and leaving to the bathroom briefly to get the box of tissues papers. He didn't have lube – of course he wouldn't bring one to his college’s basketball team picnic – so his spit would have to do.

He sighed, taking his aching dick out finally. It's not his ideal style. The bedsheet is scratchy and cold and the headboard hits his head at an awkward angle, but he shifts himself till he's fairy comfortable.

He pulls his shirt to his armpits, fingers of his one hand brushing over his nipple as he spits over his other hand and takes his dick. He gives himself a few lazy strokes, trying to bring his dick to a full erection. He glanced over to where you say beside him, impulsively grabbing your pillow and putting it against his face. Just as he imagined, your perfume lingered on the fabric of it.

He wasn't in a hurry, he knew you would take time if you were going to drink with the boys. He had plenty time.

He thought of you as he stroked himself sensually, occasionally reaching up and flicking and pinching his nipples. He feels intoxicated by your scent in him. He tugs off his boxers till it's pooled around his ankles. He slowly increases his speed, his thumb pressing over the tip where the precum leaked.

He was getting closer to his releasing, your name softly leaving his lips in whimpering whispers.

He heard the door open. Shit.

He has the exact time to either pull down his shirt or pull up his pants before you'd be face to face with him.

Not being able to think properly with his fogged mind, he chose to pull down his shirt instead, leaving his fisted cock out in the open for you to see when you entered.

Your eyes widened, a brown bag in your hand, “i, uhm, thought that, uhm, I'd get us some take out.”

You're flustered, but not as much as him. He is completely frozen, his hand doing little to hide anything about the size or hardness of his cock.

“I-i uhm,”

“That's okay!” You rushed in to say, “I, uhm, I'm your age too! People have, err, urges! That's completely normal, y’know.”

Mingyu is strongly aware of your gaze over his penis as you keep the bag of take out on the floor and climb on the bed beside him. He retreats back of shyness, bringing his knees closer to conceal himself a little.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, “uhm, y/n-”

“Shit, you're, like, so big, mingyu,” you chuckle breathily, pushing his knee away. Mingyu would almost think that it was yet one of his sick fantasies, except it wasn't. Mingyu was aware and proud of his well endowed body, but he never knew the things it would do to him hearing it from you. Suddenly mingyu didn't know what words were.

“Should I help you?” you ask him as if you were offering coffee, “friends help each other, right?”

Friends help each other. Friends help each other with a fucking erections.

“Y/n,” mingyu shudders as your finger gently hovers over his red angry tip. He'd meant to say, don't say stuff you don't mean or will regret later. Instead, the words that slip his tongue are, “don't tease.”

You chuckle slightly, “okay, gyu, I won't,” taking a firm grip of his cock above his own fist. A breathy moan leaves his lips. You meet his eyes once, staring deep before looking back at his dick, “gyu, do you think I can fit your dick in my mouth?”

And that is how kim mingyu (born 1997, sex male) died at the tender age of 21. The team would have to carry his body tomorrow. His tomb stone would say, died of blowjob offers. Mingyu thinks – nevermind, Mingyu can't think anymore. His brain is fogged up with the thought of your pretty pink lips around his cock. Fuck.

“You can try,” he mutters softly. He takes his hand off his dick, allowing you full access. You pushed your hair back and wrapped your soft lips around his head. No foreplay, no kitten licks, no jerking him off. You took him in his mouth directly, pushing your head down till you felt his dick filling up your mouth.

You sucked on the length in your mouth, wrapping your hand the remainder of what you couldn't fit in your mouth. Mingyu groaned, his hands grippinng the sheets tightly. Your mouth was hot and warm and wet. So fucking wet. Your technique is a bit sloppy, but mingyu loves it nonetheless. He'd love anything with you and his dick in a single picture.

You take out his dick from your mouth, looking up at him with red lips and flushed face. Fuck, are you pretty.

“Shit, I didn't know it was this hard,” you say, chuckling, “sucking a dick, I mean. You are as hard as it can be.”

“You've… never given a blowjob before?”

“No, why would I?” It was a dumb question on his end, dumber on yours. Neither of you was thinking straight about it though, so it's fine.

“friends can help each other,” he thoughtlessly echoed your words.

“Well, not any friend,” you chuckled. “You're my best friend, gyu!”

Mingyu momentarily wondered if you were even hearing yourself. It felt like a unspoken bestie rule mingyu was unaware about till now, that you must give your best friend a head in time of need. Because you seemed so serious like this was a normal best-friends activity to do, casually sucking their dick.

“Can you shift here? The angle is awkward like this, I think I can take it better if I kneel in front of you,” you tell him, motioning towards the end of the bed. He nods without even bothering to think, shifting at the edge of the bed till his legs hungoff the bed. You shifted on the floor, in between his legs. You looked up at him, taking his leaking erection in your hand and placing it in your mouth.

You forced your gag reflexes to relax and took him as deep in your throat as you could, till your nose was buried in his pubic hair. You sucked him off genuinely, eyes staring deep into his the whole time. He held your hair back, guiding your head to bob up and down on him. He threw his head back, moaning shamelessly despite being aware of the cheap hotel walls as he recieved what felt like one of the best blowjobs he's ever had.

It didn't take long for him to cum spilling down your throat.

“Shit, I'm sorry,” he took out his dick as you choked on his cum, the remainder of it spurting on your lips and cheeks. You coughed a little but swallowed his cum. Mingyu looked at you with wide eyes, realising what you did.

You grab a tissue paper from the bedside table and wipe your mouth. You flash him a smile, “I'll take a quick shower and then we could continue watching another movies while eating the take outs. Why don't you pick this time?”

“Aren't you going for the drinks by the bonfire with the rest of the team?” Mingyu asks dumbly.

“Nahh, I'll pass. Soonyoung and Chan always end up getting super drunk, causing a mess,” you say, getting up to head to the shower.

If Mingyu saw a super wet spot in your shorts and that made his dick twitch, it's nobody's business.

Though he would be down to give you a head if you needed it after your shower. Isn't that what the besties do after all!

[fungateshortcakes]

Crochet me a mistletoe

Got this idea because, well, it's christmas and I recently started crocheting! I am nowwhere near as good as I described the skills of the reader. I can't even crochet a simple scarf. But practice makes perfect, and a girl can dream right? (Reader is gender neutral)

Pairing: Logan Howlett x reader

Summary: Its christmas at the mansion and you've crocheted everyone a special gift. What will Logan think about the present you made especially for him?

Wordcount: 4.9k

Warnings/tags: english is not my first language, none, fluff, slowburn-ish, friends to lovers, reader can crochet, painfully sappy, missunderstandings?, itty bitty bits of angst, happy ending

The x-men mansion in december felt like stepping into a festive snow globe. Frosted windows framed the place, a hord of students racing through the halls as they were excited to spent the christmas holidays at home with their families, their laughter mingling with the soft strains of christmas jingles that seemed to follow you wherever you went.

The large tree in the main living room was a masterpiece, each ornament carefully placed by a team effort of students and teachers. Even Logan had been forced politely asked to string the lights, grumbling about it the whole time while he was secretly ensuring that every lightbulb was perfectly in its place. Despite your reassurance that it was fine and that he could come down from the ladder already, he shook his head, a deep frown on his face as he munched on his bottom lip as he rearranged the lights for the 1000th time.

You sighed with a smile, deciding to let him do his thing. Yet you found yourself sneaking glances at him, something you had been doing more often than you cared to admit over the last few months.

He was rugged, rough around the edges and seemingly utterly out of place among the cheery holiday decorations, but there was something about seeing him standing by the firelight, a string of glittery garlands for the tree slung over his shoulder, that made your heart flutter.

But Logan was just your friend. A good one. And you weren’t about to mess that up by acting on a silly crush that wasn't anything more than that. So, instead of drooling at the way his muscles strained and dipped under the wife beater he wore even in this freezing weather while he helped decorating the place, you threw yourself into your newest hobby: crocheting.

For weeks, you had been holed up in your room, learning and practicing how to crochet everything from scarves, mittens and hats to cute plushies and useful items such as cup coasters or little bags.

It had started as a way to pass the time, especially when there was no mission you were sent to. And now that you were deep into the christmas holidays, you didn't even have a class to teach. That's when you realised you had nothing to do and it was time to find a new hobby.

But once you got the hang of it and felt like it wasn’t as hard as you thought it would be, the idea of creating handmade gifts for your friends at the mansion had blossomed and you were eager to make a perfect present for everyone.

The work was slow but rewarding. You had already finished a soft scarf for Ororo in her favorite lavender colour that complimented her snow white hair and a set of soft, fingerless gloves for Hank in a deep navy blue. Each project felt like a little piece of yourself, stitched into every loop and knot.

But Logans gift had been different from the start.

It had taken you three tries to find the right yarn until you finally settled on a charcoal gray that would suit his style and features without standing out too much.

You decided on a sweater, something warm and practical that he could wear during the long, cold nights he spent patrolling the grounds. And, because you couldn’t help yourself, you added a small, personal touch. A tiny design embroidered over the heart, a pair of crossed claws encircled by a wreath of holly. You might as well, right? This project would take you a long ass time anyway, so a little embroidery wouldn’t hurt.

Crocheting actual clothing pieces like sweaters and jackets was a painstacking process, taking up lots and lots of yarn and taking forever. Only people you loved were worth that effort. You hoped Logan would know that once he held the finished products in hand.

Now with christmas eve approaching fast, the sweater was nearly finished. But you had other projects that you worked on simultaniously. If the task of crocheting another long chain for a scarf became too dreading and boring, you switched it up by continuing to work on a plushie.

“Darlin’, you’re gonna get yourself snowed in if you keep sittin’ there.”

Logans voice startled you, making you lose the stitch you were in. You looked up from your crocheting to find him leaning against the doorframe of the common room. The fireplace crackled warm beside you and outside the tall open window, there were snowflakes swirling in a gentle flurry. You sat cozy on the windowsill in your warmest clothes, enjoying the crisp breeze against your face and watching how the snow painted the garden of the mansion in a dazzling bright white, all while absentmindely crocheting your gifts.

“I like the view” you answered him with a soft smile, the yarn rolling between your feet as you pull at it “And I’m almost done.”

Logan left his spot at the door and stepped into the room, his boots making soft thuds on the wooden floor. “What’re you makin’?” You shook your head as you did only a little to hide the plushie you were crocheting “It’s a surprise” you teased.

Logan raised an eyebrow, hand in his pant pockets, his lips quirking into a smirk. “For me?”

You rolled your eyes with a soft giggle. “Only if you want a teddy bear plush in Scott's outfit" you said, throwing him a knowing look.

He shuddered in mild disgust, chuckled, then settled into the armchair across from you. “Nah, I'm good" he replied, putting his hands up in defence. Then his gaze landed on the bottom of the sweater, his soon to be sweater, that poked out from under your blanket draped over your lap. He pointed to it "I think one of 'em ugly christmas sweaters you are makin' would suit Summers better" he joked, thinking you would laugh along, but he noted your slight hurt frown. Him saying that he thought christmas sweaters were ugly made your heart sting painfully. You pulled the sweater under your blanket completely, shielding it from Logan. “It’s not ugly,” you mumbled, averting eyecontact with him.

In that moment, you weren't too sure about your gift for Logan anymore. The sweater you would give him wasn’t the usual christmas sweater with bright colours and corny patterns, but still, maybe he wasn't a sweater person? What if he didn't like it? He would never say it to your face, but just imagining his unimpressed face, a forced smile as he reluctantly thanked you, already thinking about the best and fastes way to get rid of the clothing piece, it made you want to cry already. All this effort for nothing?

You hadn't realised that you stared at Logan while you where deep in thought, a lit cigar hanging lazily between his lips. “Why’re you always starin’ at me?” Logan asked suddenly, his voice breaking the silence.

Your face heated. “I wasn’t staring. Just thinking” you pressed out, quickly picking up your crocheting again.

Logan blew smoke from out of his nostrils “Sure you weren’t” he said, but there was no teasing in his tone. If anything, he sounded curious, curious of what exactly you where thinking with your brows knitted together.

You focused on the yarn in your hands, on the way your hook looped easily through every stitch, willing yourself to act normal. This was fine. You were fine. “You’re workin’ too hard” Logan muttered after a moment. “Spendin’ all your time on this.”

You shrugged “It’s worth it” you smiled without looking up. “I want everyone to have something special this year. And what's more special than a present made especially for them. I guess the best gift is when someone thinks of you”

Logan looked at you. Looked at you for a long second and didn’t respond right away. When you finally glanced at him, his expression was unreadable, his gaze already turned away and fixed on the fire. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he said quietly, almost to himself.

Your heart skipped a beat, but before you could respond, ask him what he meant by that, Logan stood up, stretching his arms over his head. His white tank top rode up slightly as he stretched, your eyes staring at the dimples on his back before you shook your head, your cheeks on fire.

“Don’t stay up too late” he called, heading towards the door. “Santa don’t visit if you’re awake.”

You laughed, nodding your head dismissive manner “Goodnight, Logan.”

Logan smiled softly as he looked back at you one more time “Night, darlin’.” And then he was gone. You looked down at the half-finished sweater under your blanket, your chest tight as you sighed.

The mansion was alive with holiday excitement the next morning, despite the kids not being there. But if they were, you just knew that they would be buzzing about presents and sneaking peaks under the towering Christmas tree already.

You spent most of the day putting the finishing touches to most of your gifts, tucked away in a quiet corner of the common room. All your presents were nearly finished, except for the sweater you had planned on gifting Logan. You couldn't bring yourself to work on it anymore. You couldn't even look at it, too ashamed that you even came up with this idea.

It wasn’t until late afternoon that Logan appeared in the common room, carrying an armful of firewood. He always looked so effortlessly strong when he carried stuff, it almost made you drool over his forearms and hands. His flannel shirt was rolled up to his elbows, exposing his hairy forearms that had tiny snowflakes clinging to it.

You glanced up from your crocheting, trying not to stare too obviously.

“You been at that all day?” Logan asked, dropping the firewood near the fireplace with a loud thunk. He tried not to smile as he saw you bundled up with balls of yarn and wrapping paper surrounding you, a few ready gifts already stacked on top of the other, a hot cocoa with marshmallows steaming next to you on the coffee table.

“Almost done wrapping everything” you cheered, holding up a crocheted beanie for charles to keep his head warm.

Logans gaze locked onto the garment in your hands. His expression softened for a brief moment before he caught himself and cleared his throat. “Looks good” he said gruffly, turning his attention to the fireplace again.

You smiled faintly, folding the beanie neatly and tucking it into a small box with a gift card and putting it on the stack of finished presents after you wrote Charles name on it “Thanks.”

Logan unsheathed his claws and striked a match on one of them, shaking the tiny flame on a stick before throwing it to the pile of freshly chooped logs “You should take a break. All that knittin' and crochetin' must your fingers” Logan grumbled, blowing at the fire until the flames started to flicker to life, casting a warm glow across the room.

“I will once I am done with all of this” you replied to him, wrapping the next present aside. “it won't take long" Logan straightened back up, brushing his rugged hands on his jeans. “So, what are your plans tonight? Besides playin’ Santa Claus.”

“Ororo planned to watch a christmas movie with the team, I guess I will join them later” you replied, stretching your back a littlesince you had been sitting like a shrimp for the past few days, hunched over your projects. “Why, what about you?”

Logan shrugged "Not much" he cleared his throat “Might head out for a bit. Get some air.”

“On Christmas Eve?”

Logan gave a small, almost shy smile and shrugged “Never been much for all the holiday stuff.”

You tilted your head, studying him. “You could stay in. Watch the movie with us.”

He hesitated, his gaze flickering to yours. “Yeah? You think they wouldn’t mind?”

Your eyebrows raised as he seemed so unsure “Of course not" you denied, smiling warmly. “I can promise that they all want you there, Logan. I know I do"

That evening, the two of you settled into the couch along with Jean and Scott, a bowl of popcorn between you. Ororo sat draped over the seat next to the sofa, Rouge and Remy sitting in front of you on the ground while Kurt was sprawled out right in front of the TV, looking up at the flimmering box with a toothy smile. Even Charles had rolled in to join.

The movie, a classic Christmas move, The Grinch, to be exact, played on the screen, and even though it was one of your favourite christmas movies, you found yourself paying more attention to Logan than the plot.

He was unusually relaxed despite everyone being so huddled up together, leaning back against the cushions with his arms crossed over his chest. You fleetingly looked over to the present neatly tucked away under the tree. His sweater. You had decided to finish it after bickering over it for so long. Well, you didn't exactly have time to make him anything else. And if you did, it would only be half assed. And you didn't want that, Logan deserved more. Something special.

Halfway through the movie, Logan reached for the popcorn, his hand brushing against yours briefly. The contact was fleeting, but it sent a spark up your arm and you felt like you were part of a cheesy and cliche slowburn fanfiction.

You quickly pulled your hand away, your heart racing. “Sorry” he muttered, his voice gruff and quiet as to not alert the others. “It’s okay” you whispered back, trying to sound normal.

The room fell into a comfortable silence again, the only sounds coming from the TV, the crackling fire and a little hushed banter between Rouge and Remy. But you couldn’t stop stealing glances at Logan, your chest tightening with every second you spent sitting so close to him.

“Thanks for talkin' me into this” Logan said suddenly, his voice low. “Didn’t think I’d enjoy it much, but… it’s nice.” Your lips curved into a soft smile. “I’m glad.”

He looked at you then, his dark eyes catching the light of the fire. There was something in his gaze you couldn’t quite place, something warm and unguarded, even though a lot of people were around that could potentionally witness it. For a moment, it felt like the rest of the world disappeared, leaving just the two of you sitting by the fire, the glow of the Christmas lights reflecting in his eyes.

Then Logan cleared his throat quietly, breaking the spell. “You’re really something else, I hope you know that” he muttered, his voice rough but sincere.

Your cheeks heated, and you looked down at your lap. There they were again, his words from yesterday. The thoughts you had repeated in your head the whole night, not knowing what they represented. “What do you mean?”

“You put all this work into makin’ people happy, to make 'em feel included even though they weren't into it at first.” He explained, draping a muscled arm over the frame of the couch. "You force people into their luck, ya know? Haven't seen anything quite like it"

You brushed a lock behind your ear. "I guess I just wanted to do something nice” you smiled softly. Logan let out a deep, content breath through his nose, looking at you, his eyes soft “Well, you did." Logan said, his gaze lingering on you.

For a second, you thought he might reach out and let the arm that rested over the couch snake around your shoulder to pull you into him, but then he shifted in his seat, his hand retreating to his side.

By the time the movie ended, everyone said their goodbyes and goodnights, swarming out to their rooms to sleep, letting the mansion fall quiet. Only Logan and you were left. You also wanted to just fall into your bed and sleep, but you were too tired already to get yourself moving.

Logan was the first to stand, stretching his arms over his head and giving you a good view of the prominent vein that cascaded below his waistband. You started to think he was doing this on purpose. “Guess I’ll head to bed too" he yawned, his tone thick.

Goodnight, Logan” you replied, watching as he headed toward the door.

He paused before leaving, turning back to look at you. His expression was unreadable, but his voice was soft when he spoke. “Night, darlin’. Sleep well.”

When he was gone, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

The morning sun filtered through the frosted windows of the mansion, bathing the common room in a golden glow.

Christmas Day had finally arrived, and the mansion buzzed with the christmas spirit of all. It was a bit overwhelming to see everyone in their christmas pyjamas sitting around the tree, eager for presents.

Logan was already there too, leaning against the mantle with a steaming cup of coffee in hand. Well, you liked to sleep in okay? It wasn’t hard to be down in the common room before you.

Logans presence was as steady as ever, but there was a quiet contentment to him this morning, you noted. He looked up as you entered and something in his expression softened.

“Mornin’” he greeted, his voice low, smooth and warm from the hot coffee he was drinking. You lifted your hand in a tiny wave “Morning” you yawned, smiling as you made your way to the tree, the rest of carefully wrapped gifts in your arms that you had finished just the night before after the movie. You couldn't sleep anyway since the thought of Logan made you stay awake, might as well perfect your presents.

After a while, it was your turn to hand out your presents. You crawled under the large tree, gifting them one by one. You watched in glee as the room filled with laughter and delighted exclamations. Ororo beamed when she unwrapped the lavender scarf you had made for her and Hank was already slipping on his navy gloves. Charles shooked his head with a chuckle as he saw the beanie you had crocheted for him, letting his fingers trace over it.

Logan waited patiently, allthough he didn'texpect there to be something for him, his dark eyes following you as you worked your way through the pile of gifts, quietly enjoying the unfiltered reactions from everyone.

When there was only one wrapped gift left you had to hand out, Logan wondered who it could be for since everyone had gotten their present already. But as you turned to him, handing him the neatly wrapped box containing his sweater, his brow lifted in surprise.

“For me?” he asked, as if the idea of receiving a gift was foreign to him.

You giggled at his reaction "Of course. Did you really think I wouldn't give you something?" you asked, smiling shyly. You were just as nervous for him to open the present as he was.

Logan carefully peeled back the paper, his hands oddly delicate for a man who seemed to handle everything with brute strength. When the sweater emerged, he stared at it for a long moment, his thumb brushing over the tiny embroidered design near the heart. He remembered the colour. This was the sweater he had called ugly. He had called your thoughtful gift ugly. He was a horrible person.

“You made this? For me?" he whispered in awe, a little more to himself, his eyes tearing up slightly.

“I did” you nodded, fiddling with your fingers as your nerves ate away at your insides. “Do you like it?”

He looked up at you, his gaze piercing. “I...this is…” he trailed off, shaking his head as if he couldn’t find the words. Instead, he unfolded the sweater and pulled it on right then and there over his tank top. The fit was perfect and the sight of him in something you made with your own hands sent a warm flush through your chest. He looked like a chunky teddy bear and the urge to hug him was growing strong in your chest.

“Looks good on you” you said instead.

Logan’s lips twitched into a rare smile. “Feels good, too. Thank you.”

The rest of the day passed in a blur of holiday cheer, but you couldn’t help noticing how Logan stuck close to you. He lingered near the kitchen while you baked cookies with Ororo and Rouge, his presence steady and reassuring. At one point, you caught him running his fingers over the sweaters fabric, his expression distant but content. He protected the sweater with his life, making sure no one ruined it by accidentally pouring wine over it. If just one atom of a cookie crumb were to touch the fabric, he would lash out.

It wasn’t until later that evening, after most had gone to bed and the mansion had settled into a peaceful quiet, that Logan found you sitting by the fire.

“You’ve been busy” he mumbled, his voice low as he sat down beside you.

“I guess I have,” you said, smiling. “It was worth it, though.”

Logan studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable like usual. Then he shifted and the next second, his big hand presented you a tiny wooden figurine, a little cat, carefully hand carved by him. "S'for you" he muttered, averting his gaze. The light of the fire did only so little to hide his embarrassed blush.

You gasped, taking the cat into your hands as if it was made out of glass and would break if you looked at it the wrong way "Did you....did you make this?" you asked him and he nodded reluctantly. You never thought Logan was into wood carving. But now that you knew, it made sense. "Yeah...didn't want to give it to you when everyone else was 'round. No need for 'em to know I have this hobby" he explained to you, picking at a loose thread on his sweater. Your stomach felt warm as you thanked him, holding onto his little present tightly.

You could feel Logans gaze on you as you admired his neat craftmansship, warm and steady and it took everything in you not to lean into him.

“Y’know” he said, breaking the drawn out silence between you “this is the best christmas I’ve had in a long time. Maybe ever.”

You looked up at him “Really?” you asked, your mouth agape in wonder.

“Yeah” he said, his lips curving into a small, genuine smile that was rare to see from him “And I think I’ve got you to thank for that.” Your heart swelled and before you could stop yourself, you reached out and placed your hand over his. Logan stiffened for only a short moment, his gaze darting to your hand, but then he relaxed, his fingers curling around yours.

“You’re welcome” you whispered softly. Logan didn’t say anything, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes.

The fire started to die out, only faintly gleaming but still enough to wrap you and Logan in a light of warmth. Logans hand was still in yours, his warmth seeping into your skin as the quiet surrounded you both. You couldn’t remember how long you had been sitting there, since when you started to lean against him, head on his shoulder, but time seemed to stretch and slow, every second weighted with something unsaid.

“Darlin’” Logan finally murmured, his voice so soft it felt like it was meant for you alone. “Do you ever think about… settlin’ down?” the question caught you off guard for a second and you turned your head to look at him, your heart thudding in your chest. “Settling down?”

“Yeah” he breathed, his gaze fixed on the low fire. He found an iron rod to dig and shove between the wooden logs that had long turned into coal and ash, trying to distract himself so the words would come easier. “Findin’ somethin’, someone, you can hold onto. Somethin’ real. Y'know, not these kinds of meaningless situationships.”

Your breath hitched and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him. Logan, the man who had always seemed like a force of nature. Wild, untamed and unyielding—looked almost vulnerable now, his expression open and unguarded.

“I guess I’ve thought about it. It would be nice to have that someone. The right person you can lean onto any time” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. You felt like you were leaning against that one person just now. “Have you?”

He let out a soft, almost self-deprecating laugh. “I didn’t think I had to. Thought I wasn’t the type for all that. But lately…” He trailed off, finally turning to meet your gaze, looking down at you cuddled up against him “Lately, I’ve been thinkin’ maybe I was wrong.”

The room felt impossibly still, the weight of his words settling over you like a blanket. “Logan” you began, your voice trembling slightly “what are you trying to say?” allthough the answer seemed obvious, you feared you weren't understanding him correctly.

He let out a slow breath, running a hand through his hair. “I’m tryin’ to say that I care about you. More than I’ve cared about anyone in a long time. And I know I’m not the easiest guy to be around, but… you make me wanna try. Make me wanna be better.”

Your chest tightened, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. “Logan…” were you imagining things? Were you actually by the windowstill, all alone, dying from the cold Logan warned you about? The cold that looked gorgeous from inside a warm room but was vicious in its beauty, killing you because you wouldn't listen and close the window? Were you just taking your last breath, your mind tricking you into dreaming about what could be?

“I know I’m probably messin’ this up" he swallowed deeply, his voice rough with emotion. “But I had to tell you. Couldn’t keep it in anymore.”

His words were real, his warmth, his soft breath fanning across your face. You weren't dying. You were just starting to live. “You’re not messing anything up" you shook your head, voice breaking slightly.

His eyes searched yours and for the first time, you saw a flicker of uncertainty in his gaze. “You mean that?”

Instead of answering, you leaned up, closing the space between you. Logan froze for a split second before his arms came around you, pulling you close into his lap as your lips met in a kiss that felt like coming home after a harsh and straining day out in the cold.

It was soft and tentative at first, but as the seconds stretched on, it deepened, the barriers between you dissolving like snow in the sun. Your hands laid flat against his chest, feeling the warm and fuzzy fabric underneath your fingers. Logan sighed from his nose as the kiss deepened, a quiet, longing noise forming in the back of his throat.

When you finally pulled back, you rested your forehead against his, your breath mingling in the silence of the room.

“I care about you too” you whispered. “More than I can even put into words.”

Logan let out a soft, shaky laugh, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “Guess that makes us both pretty bad at talkin’ about feelings.”

You laughed, the sound light and full of relief. “Maybe. But I think we’re doing okay.”

Logan nodded “Better than okay" he murmured, pressing another kiss to your mouth. He was already getting addicted to this.

The rest of the night passed in a blur of warmth and quiet joy. Logan stayed by your side, his hand never straying far from yours as the two of you talked about everything and nothing. You felt like two teenagers that had sneaked away from everyone else to enjoy the thrill of making out and cuddling like in a sappy romance novel.

By the time the first light of dawn crept through the windows, you found yourselves curled up on the couch together, a soft blanket draped over you both. Logans arm was around your shoulders, and your head rested against his chest, the steady beat of his heart lulling you into a sense of peace you hadn’t felt in a long while. The sweater he still hadn't taken off (and wouldn’t for a while) acting like a soft pillow under your face.

“Good night, darlin'” Logan murmured, his lips brushing against your hair before he looked out the window, the sun rising slowly. He knew it wouldn’t take long before the others flodded the room, but he wanted you to sleep and rest, even if it was just for an hour. He kind of felt bad for keeping you up until the sun literally rose again, but how was he supposed to fall asleep when he just found out you loved him back?

“Good night, Logan” you whispered, smiling as you closed your eyes.

For the first time, you knew without a doubt that this was where you were meant to be - wrapped in Logans arms, your hearts stitched together like the threads of a handmade gift, stronger and more beautiful for the care put into every moment you shared with him.

I've never tried putting dividers like this before, how do we like it? I am also sorry that I am not quite posting this on christmas anymore. I just always get the ideas so late and randomly that I can't get it out on time.

I can't type anymore bc my hands are literally that cold and now, update, i read over it and corrected some mistakes. If you still see any, im sorry😔🙏🏻 I've fallen you all

Merry christmas🎄🎀

[mountainsandmayhem]

BDSMaid - Chapter 8

Series Summary: After recently graduating you take what is supposed to be a job to save money before you go back to university to get your law degree. Your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. Easy. Simple. Mundane. Until one of your clients is home and everything you felt was missing in your life starts to fall into place. This goes against the NDA you signed and you could get fired. Or worse, you could fall in love.  WC: 5.5k TW: I will put them below the cut for those who want to avoid spoilers. This is more of an original character, there have been some descriptions of reader throughout the series. A/N: How can I make a note when I have words?! I'm just so grateful for how many people have fallen in love with this story this year. It's crazy to me that I posted my first fan pic on December 23rd 2023, expecting about 3 people to see it and waking up to 100's of notifications. 2024 has literally been whirlwind, I've made so many wonderful ladies here and have grown more and more confident in my writing abilities. Thank you @lotusbxtch for being my forever beta for this series (probably an unhealthy crutch, but so be it haha). Thank you @for-a-longlongtime for letting me bounce ideas off of you and giving me a new insight to how sweet girl or Joel would think. @mermaidgirl30, @alltheirdamn and @littlevenicebitch69, what would I do if I couldn't scream about this story with you?! Ok eww, I'm done being sappy. Enjoy! Dividers and headers by @saradika-graphics

My Masterlist || Series Masterlist

TW: use of sex toys (vibrator and butt plug)

You

When you walked into your small apartment on Sunday, Odette was wrapped up in a blanket watching TV. She looked you up and down with a knowing smirk. It was pretty obvious based on the way Joel’s sweats and hoodie hung off your body that you were with a man all weekend. So, after she agreed to keep it between the two of you, you told her absolutely everything. It was freeing to finally be able to discuss Joel with one of your friends. The two of you spent almost six hours going over every detail of the last few weeks, and after ordering pizza and splitting a bottle of rosé, you had all the validation you needed. He loves you. And you love him, too. 

As the weekend rolls into the week, you still have not come down from your happy, little Joel Miller-shaped cloud. There’s not a single doubt in your mind that he is it. You have never let your walls down with someone like you have with him. It was always easier to just do it on your own; you could always count on yourself.  For the first time in your life, you can confidently say that you’re ready to let that go. It’s time for you to let someone take care of you for once. When he texts you on Monday to make plans for the following day, you decide that you’re going to tell him how you feel.

When Tuesday finally comes around, you practically skip up to his house. You have a duffle bag of items in one hand: your outfit for this evening, make up, and a change of clothes in case you spend the night. Wearing his clothing home was fun and all, but you won’t be doing any sort of walks of shame again. Clasped tightly your other hand is your company-provided caddy full of cleaning supplies. Just as you’re about to place the supplies on the front step, the large front door opens.

“Hi, Freckles,” Joel's voice coats every inch of your skin in warm honey. He shines an absolutely knee-weakening smile down at you. As per his usual JMKink attire, he’s in perfectly fitted black dress pants, expensive looking black dress shoes, and a pressed, crisp white dress shirt. The sleeves are rolled to his elbows and your mouth waters at the way his bare forearms look.  

“Hi,” you beam up at him, not holding back your ear-to-ear grin as you glow under his attention. “I wasn’t expecting you to be here!”

“I have to leave soon, but I have something for you.” He steps out onto the front steps and grabs everything from you before you follow him inside. You change into the white keds that Jamie gave you on your first day at Maid Discreetly before heading towards where he’s standing in the kitchen. There are three boxes on the kitchen island; two small black ones and one white one that you recognize immediately. He pushes that one towards you first. 

“This is your new iPhone,” he says with a wink and you feel your cheeks flush.

“Thank you,” you say shyly.

He shakes his head, “No, thank you for not fighting me on this. That cracked screen...”

“I know,” you say, raising a hand to stop him. You deepen your voice, “It’s a hazard, sweet girl.”

He laughs like he did that night at the Shibari class, deep and from his gut; it’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard and your heart swells at the possibility of getting to hear that laugh for the rest of your life. “Exactly. These other boxes…well, they’re for you, but also for me.”

You raise your eyebrows curiously as he slides the smaller of the two black boxes across the smooth marble of the island. His bottom lip slips between his teeth as you pull the top off of the first box. Sitting on a bed of white tissue paper is a small metal plug with a pink heart-shaped diamond on the end. 

“Mister Miller! Scandalous!” You gasp, feigning shock and surprise.

He laughs again as he asks, “Is that ok?”

“Very much so,” you respond with a smile before opening the next box, which is slightly bigger than the last. A black, U shaped piece of silicone sits in the box, along with a small plastic rectangle that looks similar to a key fob. “What’s this?”

“That, my sweet girl, is a remote vibrator. I was thinking that maybe you could wear both of those while you clean my house today. I can control that with the remote from a close distance or from my phone anywhere in the world.” 

Every hair on your body stands on end as your clit throbs in excitement. “Yes, I would really, really like to do that!”

“Good girl,” he says with a wink, holding a hand out to you. His fingers link with yours and just the slightest touch from him sends sparks up your wrist and straight to your racing heart. He grabs your new toys and leads you up the stairs. Your giggle is laced with arousal when you come to a stop in his enormous ensuite. After placing the toys on the counter he pulls you in, his free hand cupping the back of your neck before he slams his lips into yours. He kisses you hungrily, and you meet his energy, kissing him back as if you’re drunk with passion. His teeth nip your bottom lip as he pulls away. You’re so insanely, maddeningly in love with this man that you almost forget how to stand as he steps back.

“Take off your pants, sweet girl.”

You do as he says, eagerly unbuttoning your company issued black dress pants before sliding them down your legs. He stops you before you remove your thong, breathing out a heady ‘fuck’ before hooking his thumbs through the bright pink lacy waist band and sliding them down your legs. 

“Put your hands on the vanity and bend over for me,” he instructs with bated breath. He watches your reflection in the mirror, looking right into your soul as always, as you follow his instructions.  

You smile lovingly at him, clocking the way his throat works as he swallows hard at the sight of you bending at the waist, pushing your ass out for him. “Fuck, how did I get so lucky? All of this, just for me?”

“Just you, Joel,” you breathe, slipping your bottom lip between your teeth. 

He slides open a drawer and takes out two small bottles before turning on the water. He pops the top of one bottle, using the contents to wash both toys, then steps back behind you with the second bottle in and the plug in his hands. A warm laugh leaves your lips, “Always so prepared, Mister Miller.”

“With a pretty little thing like you in my life, I better be.” He clicks the top of the lube open as he continues, “Ready? I’ll go slow.”

“Mm-hm, I’ll tell you if it’s too much,” you coo, your body thrumming with the anticipation of his touch. 

“I know you will. No safeword right now, okay? Just say stop, and I will.” He spreads the lube around your tight ring of muscle with his thumb. Every muscle in your body goes slack under his attention and you sigh as your lashes flutter against your cheeks. “Good girl, just relax for me.”

After a few minutes of teasing you with the pad of his thumb he switches to the plug. The cold metal makes you jump. He reassures you by squeezing your hip as he murmurs, “You’re ok, baby.”

He swirls it gently at first, slowly applying more and more pressure before it slips in on its own and you whimper at the feeling. “Does that feel okay, sweet girl?”

“Mmm, yes,” you smile at his reflection in front of you. The amber glow of the LED lighting behind the mirror accentuates the honey flecks in his eyes. Everything about the way he’s looking at you feels overwhelming. It’s like when you first step foot into a hot tub on a cold winter's night. The sting of the swirling water is almost too hot as you sink further in. For a second you consider getting out, but then every single cell in your body adjusts and you can’t imagine not being wrapped in that heat.

“Now this one,” he says, holding up the black u-shaped vibrator. He adds a bit of lube and then guides your hips further back with one hand before kneeling. Your pussy clenches against nothing as you glance over your shoulder seeing him on his knees behind you. He practically whimpers, “God, Freckles, this pussy. She’s so gorgeous.”

A shy smile turns your lips upward. Joel starts to work the toy inside of you and you gasp out a moan. He moves the bulbous head of the toy back and forth until it slips in on its own accord, just like the plug did. Your breathing quickens at the pressure on your g-spot and clit; the toy isn’t even on yet and it already feels so good. Joel’s lips sponge against the globes of your ass, then your hip as he stands. “Are you ok, sweet girl?”

“Yes, Mister Miller,” you respond, your breath catching in your throat as you stand. 

“Good. Now put your clothes back on and get to work.”

Before you can bend to pick up your discarded clothing, he pulls you into his arms and brings his lips to yours. The kiss is so soft that it steals your breath, and you almost blurt your feelings for him right then and there. He keeps one arm wrapped tightly around your waist while the other snakes up your body until his large palm cups the side of your face. This kiss, compared to the one from earlier, is different in every way. Where that one was rough and passionate, this one is gentle and almost lazy; a content moan rumbles from his chest. Before pulling away, his warm tongue swipes sweetly across yours. 

 “See you later, honey,” he whispers, then kisses your forehead and walks away.

Honey, he called me honey. Everything about the last few seconds feels so goddamn domestic, and your potential life five years from now flashes through your mind. 

You're standing in this bathroom, getting ready to head to the law firm you work at. Joel, no longer just your dom but also now your new husband, puts a fresh latte on the counter for you, then helps you with the clasp of your necklace before kissing that sensitive spot behind your ear. ‘See you later, honey’.

The rev of Joel’s Jag pulling out of the garage snaps you out of your daydream. You get dressed and walk back downstairs while opening the Maid Discreetly app. To your surprise, cleaning Joel’s office isn’t the first task. Instead, you’ve been asked to wipe down the kitchen, then vacuum the main floor, stairs and upstairs rooms, and finish off by dusting his bedroom. All of it seems very doable in the next four hours, and just when you think you’ll probably be done early and have time to properly get ready for your night out, Mister Miller reminds you that he has the remote to a very distracting detonator. 

The first few times the vibrator comes on it’s subtle, just a light buzzing against your clit. It’s enjoyable, almost like a tickling massage, but after almost an hour and half of being gently teased at random you can feel your frustrations start to reach a boiling point.

You: Mister Miller, you’re torturing me Joel: Oh, sweet girl. We’ve only just begun. You: *pouts* Joel: That’s not going to get you what you want. Be a good girl and get back to work. I have a meeting. 

You check off the kitchen and main floor tasks and then move to the stairs. You decide to start at the top, sitting on the stair below it and scoot down to save your back. You’re also hoping that the pressure on the toy will make it strong enough that you can finally come. Joel turns the vibrator on again and you whine out in frustration when your plan fails. The slight hum against your clit stops and you mutter something about Joel being a sadistic bastard under your breath and continue your backwards ride down the stairs. As you reach the halfway point the vibrator comes to life at an intensity so strong that you drop the hose of the vacuum and dig your nails into the plush carpet of the stair tread. 

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, squeezeing your legs together as he brings you right to the edge. Your orgasm builds quickly, and just as it’s about to take you, the vibrations stop. 

Joel: You better not have come You: Please, Mister Miller. I was so close Joel: Not yet, babygirl  

Joel continues this throughout the afternoon. Every ten minutes or so, the black u-shaped torture device inside of you comes to life; always at different intensities and for varying times. 

Torture device might be a bit strong, the discarded box of feelings says from the back of your mind. We both know you’re enjoying it. You don’t know when she decided to come back, but at least she’s keeping you honest. 

It’s been about three hours by the time you get to your last task of the day. The vibrator buzzes gently as you grab a duster and head into Joel's bedroom. You bite back a smile seeing his bed, the white fluffy sheets neatly tucked in. You can’t help but run your fingers across the soft duvet, remembering how it felt against your skin, remembering how he felt above, behind, below and beside your naked body.

Joel: You doing ok? Do you need to use your safeword? You: I’m okay, Mister Miller. I REALLY need to come, but this is the best day I’ve ever had at work.

When 3:30pm hits, you’ve finished everything in the app, and are so wound up from being teased that you’re fighting from taking the vibrator out and making yourself come. Everytime the vibrator comes on, you break out in goosebumps, the hair on your body standing on end, but when he turns it off, your cheeks flush in frustration and a wave of heat rolls through you. You know Joel will take care of you when he gets home and sees how badly you need it. He talks a big game, but you see the way he folds when you beg. 

Joel: I’ll be home in about 40 minutes, Tommy won’t shut up about concrete. You: I need to come so badly, Mister Miller. I’m throbbing, please!  Joel: Soon. Just breathe, sweet girl. You can do this. 

You need to distract yourself, and you know Joel’s office usually gets pretty dusty, so even though it’s not on your list, you grab your cleaning supplies and slowly open the door. It’s as it usually is: small piles of papers on the desk and a few things out of place on the book shelf. You put the books back and dust the shelves, then run the duster over the blinds before cleaning the window.

Joel: Goddamn, he’s still going on about fucking concrete. How’s my baby doin? You: Horny, I’m trying to distract myself

The vibrator comes to life at the lowest setting. Once again, it’s not enough to make you come, just enough to tease and taunt. You could cry at the frustration of it. 

You: That’s not helping, Mister Miller Joel: What’s not? You: Hilarious. Please? Joel: Nope. I love watching you come, hearing the whiny little gasps you make, so not until later

You move towards the desk. Just as you reach to tidy the stack of papers, the vibrations against your clit hit at an intensity you haven’t felt yet today. You fall forward, gasping for breath, as the papers scatter to the floor. You’re about to fall into the pleasure, feel those waves of nirvana that you so desperately need when the vibrator turns off and you’re left with nothing. You bite back an agitated yell. 

Joel: See you in less than half an hour, sweet girl. You better not have come.  You: I didn’t. I promise. 

You’ve never read anything on Joel’s desk before, but you notice a familiar emblem on the first piece of paper you pick up. It’s a short, handwritten note, and as your eyes scan the few sentences, your heart leaps into your throat as your stomach simultaneously falls to the floor. You read through it once and then twice, trying to make sense of the information in front of you. After blinking hard a few times, you read it again. 

You feel like you’re being ripped in two. 

Joel, Thank you for your generous (and anonymous) donation to the law library. I’ll be sure to find her application and review it myself. See you at the club's anniversary party in a few weeks.

You flip the note over and back again, reading it through one last time. It’s not signed by anyone, just black ink on eggshell white, the University of Austin letterhead at the top. The letter and the room start to spin. You stumble towards his desk chair and breathe through the wave of nausea that hits you; your mind reels at what you’ve just learned. Anger, disbelief and sadness all push against your prefrontal cortex, fighting to be the winning emotion. You want it to be anger – anger is so much easier to deal with. Yelling and telling Joel to fuck off would make you feel so much better, but overwhelming sadness and disappointment ultimately become the victors. 

He doesn’t believe in me.

The realization feels like knives along your skin. Everything he said about how you could do it, or that you’d get in…that was all bullshit. He paid for you to get in, and then – and this is the part that hurts the most – he made you believe that you did it all on your own. Your lungs feel like they’re filled with glass as you force yourself to take slow, controlled breaths. 

He doesn’t believe in me.

Tears prickle behind your eyes but you force them back. You will not cry, not when you’ve been through this before and came out stronger. Your parents didn’t believe in you, and you proved them wrong, graduating early and making it on your own in Texas for the last four years.

I can prove Joel wrong, too.

You shut your eyes tight. You don’t need him; you don’t need anyone. But if that’s true, why does his sexy smirk flash behind your eyelids? The glass moves from your lungs to your veins; everything hurts, and you scold yourself for letting him get this intertwined in you. 

Never again, you tell yourself. Stick to your plan. Law school. Get in with a good firm, pass the bar and become partner; then worry about a love life. 

You walk to his bedroom, removing the toys and cleaning them off before changing into the black leggings and beige crew neck sweater you brought. You gather your hair into a claw clip and head downstairs. With your bag by the door and the letter still clutched in your hand you lean back against the kitchen island and wait for Joel. 

He doesn’t believe in me. 

Joel

The drive home feels like it takes forever; granted, Tommy talking about fucking concrete for almost an hour felt longer. At dinner tonight, he’s going to explain from the beginning. He prepares himself for the worst, for your anger or hurt. He won’t be able to live with himself if he’s hurt you, but anger he can deal with. He knows it’s selfish, but you yelling at him over this would make him feel better. 

Finally, he turns into his neighborhood. The sight of your slightly rusty SUV parked on the street spreads a familiar warmth from his heart to his toes. Mine, he thinks to himself as he pulls into his garage. He knows you’re going to be so tightly wound from all the teasing you endured today, and he plans to very slowly unwind you before you go for dinner. The way you fall apart for him is so beautiful, and after almost four hours of being brought to the edge over and over again, he can’t wait to have your writhing and shaking with a simple flick of his tongue against your clit. But first, he’s going to kiss every inch of your skin while occasionally clicking the vibrator on at its lowest setting. He almost trips over your bag as he comes into the house, and when his eyes meet yours, he knows something is wrong.  

“Baby?” His voice cracks in concern at the look on your face. He mentally runs through the rolodex of facial expressions he’s seen from you, and he hates that he can’t place this one; it’s not anger or sadness, and it most definitely is not excitement or curiosity. Your soft lips are turned down in the corners, arms crossed and eyes soft. “What’s wrong?”

Your arms uncross and you hold out the letter he should have shredded weeks ago.

His stomach does a free fall. Disappointment. The look on your face is disappointment, and that is so much worse than anger or sadness. 

Fuck. 

You

Joel walks towards you with slow, measured steps while carding a nervous hand through his curls. You force yourself to continue breathing, fighting against the tears that threaten to appear. He takes the letter from you and rips it in half; you drop your eyes, watching as the two halves of paper flutter to the ground and then slide away from each other along the marble. You shake your head at the symbolism of it, hugging your arms tightly against your body again.

“I thought you believed in me,” you say, trying not to sound as gutted as you feel. 

“I do, sweet girl,” he says, stepping so close that his black leather dress shoes line up with your socked feet. You look up as he continues, “I swear I do. You - you got in on your own. Please, just let me explain.”

His eyes line with tears and moments that you overlooked over the last few weeks playback like a movie. The first day in this kitchen he said he knew the dean of admissions. The flash of anger when you went to the Shibari night and his response of “all of them?” when you said you didn’t get in. The way he insisted you open the letters before the anniversary party. He knew, he fucking knew all along that at least one university would accept you. Dread settles in your stomach, turning the shards of glass under your skin to icicles. Berkeley.

“Did you pay off Berkeley, too?”

“I didn’t pay anyone off.” He’s calm but firm in his response, which just seems to piss you off more. 

You roll your eyes, gesturing to the ripped paper on the floor and scoff. “Did you pay off Berkeley, Joel?”

The two of you stare at each other for a few heartbeats, and you don’t back down as more tears gather along his bottom lash line. He shakes his head in defeat, burying his hands in his pockets and breathing slowly a few times before whispering, “No.”

“Why would you do this to me? This could have ruined my entire career.” You try to keep your voice calm, but how dare he stand in front of you holding back tears. 

“I’m sorry, sweet girl. I wasn’t - I just…I’m sorry,” he flounders.

“Why, Joel?” Your eyes dance along his face. You aren’t sure what justification you're looking for or hoping for. The dream of staying here died the moment you picked up that note, but you can’t go to California without knowing why he did it. 

He opens his mouth, shaking his head slightly and then closes his mouth. He takes a deep breath through his nose, blinking away the tears. “Because I don’t want to lose you, Freckles. I should have told you, I was going to tell you tonight. That donation isn’t the reason you got in…you did that on your own. I just…well, I just sped up the process. And I’m so sorry you found out like this.”

You scoff again. “I thought my consent was the most important thing to you.”

His eyes widened in shock. “It is, sweet girl.”

“I didn’t ask you to meddle in my life, Joel. And I certainly didn’t ask you to speed along the process. What happens if I become a Supreme Court judge and someone finds out that you bribed a university to get me?” He goes to speak, but you raise a hand to stop him and continue. “And don’t tell me that you didn’t bribe anyone, because that’s exactly how this looks and you know it. You wouldn’t be looking at me like a guilty puppy if you thought what you did was right.”

His hands come to cup your face. The warm coffee eyes that usually dance rhythmically around your face are replaced by shifting dark glass beads laced with fear and loss. The warmth you normally feel when he touches you is gone. His eyes flick to your lips and then back to your eyes before he speaks. 

“Freckles, I lov-”

Your still raised hand covers his mouth, clamping tightly to his face to stop him. 

“Please don’t,” you whisper, swallowing the lump in your throat and keeping your palm pressed to his soft lips. Your heart pounds behind your ribs in response to what he was about to confess. If he tells you what you so desperately wanted to hear just hours ago, you know you’ll crumble. You’ll let him take you up to his bedroom and apologize in a way that only he can. You’ll spend the night planning how you can do long distance while you’re in California. You’ll let him interfere with the plan…again.

“Don’t say that to me right now, I can’t hear that.”

He nods into your hand slowly, his eyes soften, and you try to memorize every bit of amber in his otherwise black brown eyes. This will be the last time he looks at you like this, and the realization seems to suck the air out of the room. You wish you could bottle up how it makes you feel when he looks at you like that; the way it comforts you and shuts off the narrated to do list in your mind that’s always growing in your mind. 

“Joel, if…if you feel that way, then you’ll let me go,” you tell him, voice just above a whisper. He lets out a shaky breath through his nose, the heat of it warming your hand. One of his hands leaves your face to wrap around your wrist, but he doesn’t pull your hand away or step back out of your grip. Instead, he runs his thumb in small circles along the soft, smooth skin there, and you swear you can feel the whorls of his thumb tattooing themself on you, trying desperately to stay with you forever. 

“You’ll understand why I have to go to Berkeley now,” you continue. “I have been working so hard for this. And for years, I have been doing it all on my own. I’m so close, Joel…so close to finishing what I started when I was, like, seven years old. So, please, I’m begging you…please do not finish that sentence.”

You drop your hand from his mouth, his grip going weak as he lets you slip out of his grasp. He looks small, almost deflated in front of you as he stumbles back a few steps. The silence between the two of you feels heavy. 

It’s over. Whatever this was, or could be, is over, and you both know it. 

When he finally speaks, it’s a sad whisper. “What about when you’re done?”

“A lot can change in three years, Joel,” you respond, mostly to extinguish the flicker of hope in your chest. It’s better for you to push him away now than to hope that he’ll be there when you graduate. No one has ever been there for you, and this is proving to be no different. You step around him and head to the front door, biting down hard on the inside of your cheek as the tears threaten to reappear while you get your shoes on. 

“Freckles, wait.”

You close your eyes, facing the door with your hand on the matte black knob. His dress shoes click on the shiny marble before his large hand comes to rest on the door beside your head. This is the exact position you were in after accidentally catching him in his office. You keep your eyes glued to the door and after a sniffle, a quiet clearing of his throat and a whispered, heartbreaking ‘fuck’, he continues. 

“I really am sorry,” he says, his voice hoarse. “This is not how I wanted this to go, but you know what you need and I respect your choice. These last few weeks have been so much more than I could have imagined, more than I deserve. You have brought me back, sweet girl. I know you probably don’t believe a word of what I’ve said tonight, and that’s ok, but with you, I felt that pull that I’ve been waiting for. I felt it the minute your cleaning caddy fell to the ground and I locked eyes with you. If you were anyone else, I would have let you run out of here and then had you fired. I chased you and I’ve been chasing you ever since, even though I know you are meant for more and that this could only ever be temporary for you. This was always going to be the end for me and a well-deserved, hard-earned beginning for you.”

He takes a shaky breath in and you open your eyes, but you don’t look back at him. “Regardless of all that, I meant what I said in my office that day. Starting this with you would be it for me. A lot can change for you in three years, and I want you to experience everything in California. But for me, it’s you. It will always be you.”

Your chest feels like it’s going to cave and your knees threaten to buckle. “I have to go, Joel,” you grit out, forcing your voice past the boulder that’s formed in your throat.

“I know, and I’m so proud of you, sweet girl,” he whispers, dropping his hand and stepping back. The heat of his broad body and leather-and-ash scent disappear from behind you, and it feels like you’ve been plunged into freezing, uncharted waters. 

You get in your car and drive, unsure of where your final destination will be. After driving around Austin for a while, you find yourself parking outside of the Maid Discreetly office. You take a minute, deciding what you are and aren’t going to tell your best friend before heading in. Jamie’s office is impeccable as always, not a single smudge on the glass desk as she types on her laptop, looking effortlessly perfect.  

“Hey, babe!” she says with a smile as you cross the threshold.

“How’s your dad doing with the California office?” you say, trying to act casual.

“Oh my god!” she practically shrieks as she jumps up from her chair. “Did you get into Berkeley?”

“That depends,” you say, raising one shoulder. “Does he have a job for me there?”

“Holy shit!” She runs around the desk and wraps you in her arms. How she can move like that in stilettos is beyond you.

“Careful, you’re gonna break an ankle,” you deadpan. The weight of what just happened with Joel almost dissipates. Jamie pulls back to look at you, her eyes scan your face and you feel exposed.

“Why aren’t you more excited? What’s wrong?”

Shit. 

A sob leaves your throat and you collapse into Jamie’s open arms. She pulls you into her office with one arm and closes her door with the other, then leads you to the couch along the far wall. As soon as she gets you seated, you manage to explain everything between sobs and very unattractive nose blowing.

This is supposed to be one of those exciting moments of your life. You did it: you got into the school you always dreamed of and you're moving to California; a place you always felt most at ease in. Yet, it’s all clouded over by having your heart wholly shattered by a man that you actually thought was going to be the love of your life. Someone who showed you he cared, showed you that he’d always be there. 

But it was all a lie. 

[maplesyrupsainz]

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙bows before bros | LN4 ˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: lando norris x actress!reader y/n (she/her)

genre: social media au

warnings: sooo super fluffy!!

summary: in which a trail of bows leads to everyone's new fav grid couple

a/n: feel like i havent written for lando in ages so here we are!!

request!!!: I’d like to request an au for lando where y/n’s an actress who’s getting recognized more and more, she’s really humble and sweet but pretty similar to lando as a goofy and funny girly(idk why but I picture Sabrina carpenter vibes) 🎀 if u could add a little scene of some of the f1 drivers and wags reacting to their relationship/talking to the media how they’ve never seen lando so happy. Just a sappy and goofy couple living life (manifesting✨🕯️)

fc: sabrina carpenter

my masterlist

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by reneerapp, sydney_sweeney, and 301,283 others

yourusername sooo where else can i put bows? 🎀

view all 6,918 comments

user1 omg the bunny is so cute im going to do that

user2 i dont wear bows in a coquette way i wear bows in an y/n y/l/n way

liked by yourusername

user3 i love seeing y/n in her movies so srs then going on her ig & it's jus this

reneerapp put them on your hand soap 🥺

yourusername you make jokes but i really will do that

user4 LOL as u should y/n!!!

user5 oh i love her

sydney_sweeney this is so real of you!!

yourusername i knew you'd get it

sydney_sweeney bows before bros ‼️

yourusername louder 🗣️

landonorris

liked by sydney_sweeney, danielricciardo, and 819,055 others

landonorris you got my heart loud.

view all 11,193 comments

user6 okay simp lando?

user7 HUH????

user8 looking a LOT like a soft launch i cant lie to u

user9 thts what i was thinking.....

user10 the bows...... anyone one else thinking what im thinking?

user11 DONT EVEN SAY IT

user12 VERY y/n y/l/n coded

user13 y/n was here vibes

oscarpiastri simp simp simp

landonorris shutup pastry boy

yourusername posted a story

liked by sydney_sweeney, daisyedgarjones, and 89,541 others

user14 so cute ily y/n

user15 my spidey senses are tingling

user16 is this a hint that ur dating lando norris.

user17 feels very very targeted miss y/n

user18 our bow queen 🙇‍♀️

twitter ->

instagram ->

landonorris posted a story

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, and 159,701 others

user22 omg y/n y/l/n is ur gf fr

user23 never thought i'd see the day lando norris pulled

user24 THE BOW AND THE MCLAREN HOODIE AHHH

user25 the most y/n thing i've ever seen

danielricciardo she's made you soft

landonorris she definitely hasnt i'll tell you that much

danielricciardo right. not what i meant but great to know thank you so much

yourusername

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 661,328 others

yourusername feeling orange 🍊

view all 16,754 comments

user26 oh my god

user27 is this the hard launch

mclaren your best look yet, y/n!

yourusername 🤭 feel very honoured

user28 next we want orange bows

liked by yourusername

sydney_sweeney sports 🤢 but make it girly 🎀

yourusername me with everything

landonorris it's papaya y/n we've been over this

yourusername there isnt a papaya emoji ✨🎀💕🫶🍊

user29 omg they're first public interaction...?

user30 they're in love i called it.

interviews ->

twitter ->

instagram ->

landonorris posted a story

liked by lilymhe, carlossainz55, and 157,814 others

user36 omg lol

user37 THAT'S Y/N'S CAT

user38 lol at ur response to ur friends saying ur obsessed with a girl is to post her cat on ur story with bows on

sydney_sweeney one of us now

landonorris this feels like a cult

user39 the coquettification of lando norris

user40 the y/nification of lando norris

landonorris

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, and 1,091,727 others

landonorris my response to everyone talking about me recently is you would be the same if you bagged a girl like mine

tagged: yourusername

view all 22,183 comments

user41 A GIRL LIKE MINEEEEE

user42 how did he do it

lilymhe congratulations 🥂

carlossainz55 yippee!!

oscarpiastri we are all beyond proud of you lando

danielricciardo good for you bro

charles_leclerc happy for you

mclaren our fav girl!!

yourusername 🤭🧡

user43 all the celebrations in the comments 💀

user44 they had no faith in him fr

yourusername blushing and giggling at this!!! i love my lil lando!!!!!

landonorris you what?

yourusername i wont be taking questions at this time

landonorris you love me so bad

landonorris i love you so bad

THE END 🧡

[platinumaspiration]

Howdy, Simmers! I'm thrilled to present the Ultimate 4T2 Clay Hair Default Replacement Collection, designed to give your Sims a fresh and fabulous new look effortlessly! 💇‍♀️💇‍♂️✨

It's time to redefine Sim style – one fabulous hairstyle at a time. Get ready for a hair revolution with The Ultimate 4T2 Clay Hair DR Collection! 💖🌟

🍡Download - LC | MF 🍡

Updates folder - SFS | MF updated 5 Dec 2024

The nitty gritty details and disclaimers:

This is an entire collection that is interwoven with each other. Hair is repositoried to different ages, genders, defaults, and even hidden toddler hair. It's highly recommended that the collection stay intact and that you have the Ultimate Collection or all EP/SP. Recategorizers do not work with this collection

Not all hair works with each sims' faces and not all sims' faces work with each hair. So keep in mind foreheads, cheeks and ears may poke out. Previews are available at LordCrumps.com

The collection includes add ons that may require the defaults and are flagged as "Store Edition" hair. TS4 hairs range from base game to the most recent Stuff Pack (Home Chef Hustle). More hair may be included as add ons in the future.

Enable Store Edition icon

I wouldn't convert some hair without their outfit counterparts. Please make sure to remove conflicts. The outfits include:

ubodymascotknight_EP7 mbodysuperninja pubodybadger_badger pubodybadger_brown ubodycommercialmascot_buns ubodysocialbunny servo ubodycowmascot (a brighter/whiter version courtesy of tvickiesims)

Most of these hairs exist already in the realm of the community as custom hairstyles. Any of my hair previously converted (shrink, servo, santa hat, etc) should be removed; they'll be included in this collection.

TOU: Please feel free to use these as a template for your defaults and recolor the hair as you'd prefer for download purposes. I only ask that you do not reupload these original files (breaking down to packs, gender, etc) as they are intertwined and may not work without their exclusive counterparts. Please do not make these hairs as customs for reupload.

There are a few hair/items that use cc: credit: nolansims, sforzinda, arethabee

This took about... 8 months to complete. I've (re)converted all of these myself to my current expectations of my conversion content. This was play tested thoroughly over the course of that time. If there are any issues, please don't hesitate to send an ask. The file size is massive even compressed, but to be honest it's pretty decent for 500+ hair.

Under the cut are some personal sappy thank you notes that I want to share publicly:

Thank you to the defaulters at sims2defaults database for all your work! Just be kind if/when you tear into it lol

A humongous thank you to those whom have followed and been a part of my journey as a cc creator/converter. This inadvertently marks a huge follower milestone as well and I'm so happy that you all have been a part of this with me for the past (almost) 3 years!

I don't think I would have done this without meeting @lordcrumps over a year ago and joining in his journey for the ultimate 4t2 default collection. He's a true gentleman and scholar 🧐Thank you for play testing, collaborating, and above all, being one of my bestest of friends and confidant.

And, I would never ever had completed this without @tvickiesims. To think she raised me from a terrible toddler right into an angsty teen within that 8 months and still remained a true and close friend through all of it. Thank you for your extensive and detailed play testing, your companionship when I fall apart, and for being my twin flame 🤗

[hhoneyhams]

Full Count - Modern Laios/F!Reader

Word Count: ~2.7k

Features: lots of inappropriate uses of company time (ahem), closet sex, destruction of store property, technical difficulties, and pizza 'n soda for morale! It also gets a little sappy at one point, yippee!

Warnings: SMUT!! 18+ ONLY!! ESRB RATED M FOR MATURE (Technically A/O but who uses that anymore?? )

Content Warning: Unprotected sex, public sex, and cream pies

The reader has female genitalia and is human. I tried to keep all other descriptions/pronouns to a minimum.

Author's Note: Shout out to @toxycodone for making the post that inspired this whole thing! Minimum wage worker Laios is a darling idea, but thinking about him working in a video game and collectible store just stole my HEART! I'd let him tell me all about his D&D campaign and his most recent Skyrim run any day 🖤

“--have a good night!” you call out to a departing customer. As the door shuts behind them, you turn off the neon ‘open’ sign and begin your closing duties. 

Instead of wiping down the windows and letting the shutters down, you were handed pencils and two printed-off sheets of paper attached to clipboards.

“You and Laios go do the pre-owned and new console count, I’ll see what I can do about the internet before the night is over,” your boss sighs, pulling out their phone to make some calls. Your eyes meet Laios’ as he pauses what he is doing on the sales floor to make his way to the area behind the registers.

“The internet went down?”

“I think that storm knocked it out earlier…” you theorize, handing him the other pencil and clipboard. “We were having trouble over here with the POS and cards.”

“Oh, it's down-down then,” the blond confirms. You grab your second soda can of the night and your keys to the back room. He follows suit after he takes another piece of pizza, cold and tough from airing out on the counter. “That’s lame.” 

Taking care of a count by hand is nothing for you, but using your extra hours to redo a count isn’t your idea of a fun Friday night. The day of full-count inventory for your store was quickly looming, the internet going out another hurdle in the way of your freedom.

The two of you lock yourselves into the back. You open the side closet that holds both sets of consoles to count. The closet wasn’t cramped, but you were a bit cozy in there. Various gaming consoles lined the walls and were stacked along the floors.

You and Laios were rarely scheduled together, but you always enjoyed yourselves when you were. You met him at a staff meeting shortly after he started at the store. The whole night you had ended up talking about everything from dungeon-crawler games to Dungeons and Dragons, to even discussing the potential of getting some friends together to do a joint playthrough of one of his favorite games in the Monster Hunter series.

It isn’t a secret that you find him attractive. Your other co-workers poke fun at how you clam up around him. You’re just content with listening to him ramble, unlike some of the others. 

Usually, people don’t last at this job long enough for you to get attached, but you know you’d be a little sad to see him go. 

Your phone vibrates in your pocket with a text from your manager. Laios’ phone has been forgotten somewhere out front so he glances over your shoulder to read the text:

‘Going home. Finish the count and lock up when you’re done. Someone should be bringing us a router from another store tomorrow.’

Leave it to a manager to have you clean up their mess…

“Shit, why do we still have to do this then? I mean, if we’re just going to be back up and running tomorrow morning, why stay late and see if everything is there?” you vent to Laios, setting the clipboard down on the ground and flopping straight onto your ass. “They can’t even see if we’re actually doing this, so why not fudge these numbers and go home early…”

“Well, think of it this way,” he begins, sitting down beside you and settling his clipboard neatly in his lap. “They can’t see that we’re sitting down and taking care of it!” He begins to scan along the consoles sitting on the floor, marking off each console he finds by the serial number.

He was so content with the mundane that it hurt. He was a real ‘yes, ma’am’ ‘no, sir’ kind of worker, always coming to work with a smile on his face.

You felt like a bad influence every time you worked with him…

Your other coworker, Kabru, always makes it known just how much he wants to choke Laios during their shifts together. Something was very endearing to you about how dedicated he could be to a part-time position like this.

You joined him…and continued your work on the floor.

“--so our DM, right? This guy-”

“Our district manager or your dungeon master?”

“Oh, dungeon master, got mad at me for rolling SUPER high on a perception check and went after my sister’s character for it. So our next session is going to be us trying to get her back from a dragon. We’ve got to take some time off because we lost a couple of people but I’m ready to throw down next time!” he says, determination in his voice. You give him a smile in response, your mind pretty occupied by the task at hand. 

He continues to prattle on excitedly about some of the other escapades his party took place in as you counted the rest of everything that you could whilst sitting on the floor. You were always scared of whatever googly-eyed look you’d give him as you listened intently, so you would usually throw yourself into your work as he talked.

He was kind of like a big, hunky podcast or something…

“Alright, we’ve gotta get up now…” you huff, slowly getting up by grabbing onto one of the wire shelves for support. The hard linoleum floor was not doing you any favors in the comfort department and cut off the circulation to your legs.

You stumble forward and fall on top of Laios, jerking down the shelf you held onto for support, and flinging some of the handhelds onto the floor with you. His strong hands catch you around your middle so you don’t bang your heads against each other. 

A shot of heat rushes through you, embarrassment flushing your face and the telltale signs of butterflies blooming in your belly.

Were you really that touch-starved?

“There goes the Switches, 3 if you need to write it down,” he points out, not making any moves to let go of you as he does so. You settle down in his hands and look over your shoulder to see if he is actually right. 

You’ll have to test those to make sure they still work before you go home…

Laios continued to hold you, almost memorizing the way your body felt under his hands despite the space between the two of you that remained. 

Per your training modules, you knew that physical advances between coworkers were strictly prohibited on the store’s premises. This was clearly an accident, but if the prolonged touching between the two of you said anything, it's that it wasn’t exactly unwanted. 

Laios looks up to the ceiling, the light on the console room’s camera no longer pulsing red like it usually does.

“If the internet is out, the cameras are as well. You can’t get in trouble…”

Your eyes bore into his as you gaped in astonishment.

What is he implying…? 

There are a few beats of silence between the two of you before you close the gap, pressing a heated kiss to his lips and tangling your fingers into his soft shirt. He melted into the kiss, gripping your hips tightly to hold you against him. His lips were slightly chapped and he tasted like the pizza and soda from before.

“I’ve been wanting to shut you up all night,” you mumble, a smile stretching against your lips as you press more kisses against his.

“I thought you liked listening to me!” His tone is genuinely shocked as he says it, taking on a nervous edge like he has done something wrong. You hush him, rolling your eyes.

“I do, but holy shit, you’re so distracting!”

“You’re distracting too!” he fusses, pressing an accusatory finger to your nose playfully. “I’m always trying to get your attention and you never look at me!”

“I’m trying not to give you ‘fuck me’ eyes while you talk about Skyrim!” you confess, swatting his hand away. Telling him causes your cheeks to burn hotter than they have before. 

Suddenly, you feel something (or someone, rather) graze the underside of your rear. Laios’ cock strains against his pants as he looks away from you, his face turning a rather deep red to match the shirt he was wearing. He blushes all the way from the tips of his ears and down his neck.

“You…you want to fuck me?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

It totally wasn’t. Laios didn’t think you liked him that much at all. He would see the way your eyes lit up at certain conversation topics and he did his best to keep your interest, but you always found something to distract yourself with. He’d even resorted to yelling across the store at you as you darted around to straighten up the shelves or stock. You didn’t tell him to shut up like Kabru or Toshiro, but you didn’t engage with him a ton.

He has caught your gaze on a couple of rare occasions, but you would quickly dart your eyes away when you found out that he had noticed. If you were worried about making him uncomfortable, he would have rather known that he wasn’t making you feel that way.

He wanted to make it all up to you. You now know so much about him, but he wanted to take the time to get to know everything about you. He’s heard you talk about your favorite game once or twice, but he wants to know exactly when you played it and why it is your favorite. He wants to know silly stuff, like your favorite Pokémon. He wants to know why you listen to him and why you don’t talk over him or cut him off. He wants to know how long you’ve liked him…

He wants to know why you’re so afraid to look at him…when it's all he ever really wanted. 

His thoughts run wild in his head about everything he wants to know about you, but they go silent the second you go in for another kiss.

Well…He knows you want to fuck him!

Your hands are cold from the store’s A/C, Laios ends up jumping slightly as you drag your hands underneath his shirt and along his back and sides. He lifts his arms up for you to pull the shirt off of him and wraps them back around your body in turn.

It was pretty damn cold in there, though.

In a heat-of-the-moment, split decision, he decides to reposition you so he can pull himself free of his pants. His overactive fingers struggle with the buckle of his belt as he begins to curse. You take over for him as he laughs at himself.

“Sorry, I’m a bit nervous… it's exciting, really! But, holy shit, I’m not used to all of this,” 

You don’t blame him, it's riskier than anything you’ve ever done in your life. You’re working part-time in a game store, your life isn’t remotely exciting enough to have had sex in public, much less at work and ON THE CLOCK.

From his perspective, he just found out that you liked him 5 minutes ago and now you’re pulling his dick out to suck him silly in your store’s console closet. Make it make sense!

Laios lets out a few quiet moans as you run your tongue along his cock, looking him straight in the eye. It’s everything he could have ever asked for, but he’s jumpy and keeping one eye on you and one on the door. You pull away and use the remaining spit to jerk him lazily with one of your hands. His head thrashes to the side and he lets out a low cry. 

“You know we’re still the only ones here…you don’t have to be quiet, Laios,” you simper. He breathes heavily and grabs your shoulder to stop your ministrations.

“We’ve got to be quick, I can’t wait much longer,” he rasps out. His hands begin to pull at your shirt. “I want to see you, please…”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice!

Laios’ eyes and hands are glued to your tits as you ride him, his fingers pinching your nipples as he notes the size and the way they bounce with you. Your body was something else to him, it was so familiar and foreign at the same time. He’d notice your shape, your clothes, and the way they complemented your figure and movement as you worked.

…yeah, you were distracting.

To have that same body held within his hands, wrapping snugly around his cock, crashing onto him and around him…He wonders how he could have gotten so lucky. 

“I’m…I’m standing up, I-I’ve got you,” he grits out, every movement against you bringing him closer and closer to the precipice. You wrap your arms and legs around him tightly, your fingernails digging into the muscles of his back as he hoists you up. You reach between your bodies to help guide him back in. 

He’s hitting at a new angle, pistoning in and out of you without abandon. Your curses and moans are buried into his shoulder as he keens out. His grunts and his sighs go straight into your ear, his encouragement not lost.

“F-fuck, I want you to look at me,” he says breathlessly. You tear your head from his shoulder and do as he requests. His face is red, sweat dripping from his brow, his iris blown black as his eyes dilate, and his jaw is slack as moans tumble from his mouth. His eyes aren’t staying open as he slams into you, his thrusts losing their rhythmic staccato. “Y-you’re amazing, and this is–”

“Laios, I’m s-so close,” you interrupt him, grabbing him and pulling him forward for a kiss. Your moans are rumbling in your throat as he picks up his pace again. You pull away long enough to breathe but find yourself back on his lips once more. 

You grab and hold one of the wire shelves for support, the position being a bit taxing to maintain for the both of you. He goes to warn you not to do it again but your grip and his movement cause the shelf to fall from the wall just like it did last time. You both yell and your body clenches around his, causing him to double over and almost drop you. 

There goes a whole PS4…

“Fuuck, shit, I don’t care, I don’t care, j-just keep going!” you shout, clawing along his back. Everything around you was becoming too much to bear. The sound and feel of your wetness, skin slapping against skin, the sweaty heat cooled by the A/C. You closed your eyes tightly, you focused on the orgasm rising in your belly, you let yourself get closer, and closer, and–

“I’m gonna cum inside you!” Laios announces with a line of drool running from the seam of his lips. He continued splitting you open with his cock, his form was sloppy but he held you so close to him.

Your orgasm ripped through you, causing you to clench against him tightly. Laios fucked you through your release and came shortly after, pressing you down onto himself as he shuddered and groaned. You weren’t sure how the two of you were able to stay upright after that.

Your legs on his back slide down and you hold onto him for support as he slides back out. His pants were still around his ankles, so it was a quick getaway for him to come back with some of the scratchiest brown paper towels your bathroom had to offer.

“T-thanks,” you say, trading his shirt you fished off of the floor for the paper towels. He hums, still pretty dazed. He sits right back in the floor against the wall as you change, watching you almost enraptured as you pull enough clothes on to toddle to the bathroom and finish cleaning up. “That was…something.”

It was something good though.

The rest of the night was spent testing those consoles that fell, just to make sure they weren’t broken. Luckily enough, everything was in working condition, even if the wire shelves remained discarded to the side of the room.

The two of you agreed to just say you clocked out earlier since it was pushing on midnight. You shared the rest of the pizza in the parking lot and drove your separate ways home. After you got inside your apartment, you received a text from Laios:

‘I don’t think we ever finished those counts…’

End Notes: Some of the work stuff is so specific...Don't ask lol

I'm still working on getting more confident with writing smut and oneshots. I've been writing fanfiction for years but it was all super involved multichapters that never went anywhere! Either way, I really hope you enjoyed reading this because I sure as shit enjoyed writing it!! 😎

Minor edits will be made if I find any mistakes and constructive criticism is always appreciated! (Just don’t be an ass about it 👀)

Credits: Dividers by @/cafekitsune, cover art from 'Daydream Hour' scans

🖤 Rules | Ask Box | Masterlist 🖤

[drak3n]

BANKER!KENTO

CONTENT WARNINGS: fluff, slow burn, coworkers to lovers trope, reader is whipped for nanami, smut, office sex, oral (m. receiving, f. receiving implied) cum-eating

sena’s note: i will never get over my hubby :(

MINI-SERIES MASTERLIST

➩ BANKER!KENTO who recently moved back to tokyo after having spent some time in malaysia; who came back as a well-rested, new man (& even more handsome with a nice tan)

➩ BANKER!KENTO who had absolutely no interest in socializing with his coworkers and making friends at his new job and whose one and only goal was to survive his shifts and leave

➩ BANKER!KENTO who didn’t think he’d meet a person who hated work as much as he did until he saw you nearly ripping your hair out in your office through the glass door

➩ BANKER!KENTO who you got teamed up with to do the annual financial statement together to present to the entire team; and you couldn’t be more nervous to approach the blonde

➩ BANKER!KENTO who approached you instead and asked if you should just split the tasks up and present them together in the end, because he assumed you didn’t want to interact with him

you blinked up at the tall man while he leaned over your desk. what?

“come again?” embarrassingly, you hadn’t listened to what he said. his forearms just looked so buff and he had no damn business rolling the sleeves of his perfectly ironed, blue shirt up to his elbows—

“—me which part you prefer and i’ll do the other.”

fuck. what did he say? you couldn’t ask him to repeat it once more. he’d think you were a dumbass. what was the best way to get out of this situation without completely busting it?

“yeah, sure!” your response was weird and overly enthusiastic, and you were never happier to be sitting at this desk. you wouldn’t have the slightest idea what to do with your arms and legs, or frankly, yourself, if you were standing.

totally missing the look of disappointment on nanami’s face — which he covered by clearing his throat and collecting himself again quickly — you spent the next few seconds looking at each other.

did he have something on his face? had he forgotten a splotch of shaving foam on his chin or cheek? or did he have a coffee stain on his shirt? your gaze was making him wonder.

“you can choose your part, then,” he muttered, hinting at the stack of papers that had been given to you and kento. oh now it made sense… of course he wouldn’t want to meet up to get this done together. obviously.

“uh, i could do the statistics and the powerpoint.” this time it was you hiding how disheartened you were, and he had no idea.

➩ BANKER!KENTO who, as time passed, grew fond of the way you carried yourself so gracefully; how you always kept a clear head (except for in the confines of your office where you liked ripping and crumpling papers instead of shoving them into the file shredder)

➩ BANKER!KENTO who actually enjoyed doing the annual closure exposure with you on christmas eve and watched as you stayed behind to tidy up

➩ BANKER!KENTO who silently joined you, much to your surprise as it was well-known already that he didn’t like staying for longer than he had to

“oh, kento, i’ll take care of it. just go enjoy your christmas eve.”

he grunted, throwing the plastic cups into the nearest trash can while you collected the leftover cookies, placing them into a tin. “don’t you have anywhere to be?” you asked out of interest, to which he shook his head. you smiled. “me neither.”

as you left through the backdoor, wrapped up in thick coats, gloves and scarfs, you noticed that it had started snowing. you wanted to ask him if he was up to come over to yours and have dinner together — perhaps not your usual pompous family christmas dinner, but takeout — and then watch a sappy movie with two mugs of hot cocoa… but you didn’t.

ironically, he thought the same, but he couldn’t get the worst past the lump in his throat.

instead, you seperated after a couple of feet, wishing each other a merry christmas and cursing yourselves why you didn’t speak up.

➩ BANKER!KENTO whose fingers hovered over your contact information a day before new year’s eve; who knew you two would probably spend that day alone, too, and who thought it wouldn’t be worth it to make the effort of roasting an entire duck just for himself

➩ BANKER!KENTO who was beaten to it when you called him instead

“hey, kento.” you said, and he could hear your soft smile. “i was wondering if you uh… would like to come over for new year’s eve? i was going to… bake a cake, and it would be a waste to just eat it all by myself and have to chuck the rest in the trash...”

as you chuckled awkwardly, you didn’t have the slightest clue that nanami sent a smile of victory towards the duck in his fridge and a bottle of red wine resting on his kitchen counter. as if he had gotten caught, he quickly coughed.

“yes, i’d like that,” he muttered into the speaker, which made you cover your speaker to let out a joyous squeal. “do you like roasted duck?”

➩ BANKER!KENTO whose eyes went wide at the sight of you in a dress, elegant as always, but less formal; who felt the need to loosen his tie, sweating despite the freezing temperatures outside as you pulled him into a hug after taking the pan from his arm

➩ BANKER!KENTO who never thought much of others complimenting his cooking, but who felt giddy as you swooned, asking him about all the ingredients and expressing how you’d never eaten a meal as delicious as his in your entire life

➩ BANKER!KENTO who wanted to excuse himself minutes before new year’s eve, but who let himself get dragged to your balcony to watch the fireworks, and who let out a sound of surprise as you pulled him down gently by his now loosened tie to smooch him breathless

“darling, what if someone sees?” nanami sat back in his chair and let out a shaky sigh when his dark eyes darted to the door, before settling on you, hidden right behind his desk as you sat on your knees, unbuckling his belt with deft fingers.

“you’ve been pressing against me every time you walked past me today, kento.” your eyes were laced with need as you took his thick, hard cock out of its restraints. “didn’t you want this?” the blonde gritted his jaw when your thumb knowingly rubbed against his slit, smearing precum all over the reddened tip.

“you don’t know what you do to me, love…” he couldn’t stop himself from bucking his hips into your mouth, not when you took him so well and sucked him so nicely. it was almost as if you were asking him to shoot his cum down your throat when your eyes met.

you greedily swallowed every bit of it when he did, tucking him back inside and dusting your skirt off, acting as if nothing happened. when you shot him a coy smile and attempted to leave his office, he grasped your wrist in his hand, uncaring if anyone saw or not at this point.

“w—what are you—”

“did you think i missed the way you rubbed your thighs together the entire time? sit on the desk, let me reward my lovely girl.”

➩ BANKER!KENTO who now had someone to spend all holidays with, and who he didn’t even mind working overtime with :)

tagged: @melancholia-k @tansyfleurwhisper

[cozage]

Hi, Coza! I hope you are doing well! I miss your writings and am so excited to see your requests are open! :)

I saw a post by sunshinescribes that talked about how Law doesn’t believe in unconditional love and how he thinks relationships should be transactional. Hopefully I can properly link it here because they do a really good job at explaining it: https://www.tumblr.com/sunshinescribes/728643191573757952/i-think-the-most-tragic-part-of-laws-character-is

I was wondering if it was possible to have a scenario based off of this post of reader just appreciating and loving Law because they want to. Like maybe they’re just waking up and reader is using the rare moment of peace and quiet in bed to spill all of their love and sappy thoughts to him. He deserves all of the comfort, love, and care 😭

A/N: Thanks for this devastatingly lovely prompt! Here's the post for everyone if you want to go give it a read (and a like!) Characters: gn reader x Law Cw: none :)  Total word count: 850

There Are No Conditions

The way the light refracted through the cabin window in the morning and bounced off of Law’s ravenous hair was one of your favorite things in this world. It was one of the few times he didn’t have a scowl on his face. He rarely smiled in his sleep, but his face almost always looked so peaceful. His eyelids fluttered for a moment, and then his face turned soft again. He must have been having a good dream. 

You noticed he was starting to get a few gray hairs. He must have been under some kind of stress recently. Though he always seemed to be since you all had entered the New World. You knew he had a lot on his mind, and you wished there was something you could do to make his life easier. You wanted to bear that burden with him. 

“Do you need something?” Law’s voice came out hoarse, but his sudden alertness had startled you slightly. 

“Nothing at all,” you said sweetly. “Just admiring you in this light.”

He groaned and pulled you in closer to him. “We’re getting curtains at the next island.”

You gave an exasperated gasp, but snuggled in tightly to him knowing his threat was empty. “And you would deny me of such a simple pleasure for what? Extra sleep?”

His eyes cracked open at your words and he peered down at you. “You cannot enjoy watching me sleep.”

You gave a sheepish smile. “It’s one of my favorite things in this world, Trafalgar Law. In fact, you’re one of my favorite things in this whole world, so everything that you do is automatically good in my eyes.”

He rolled his eyes, clearly not believing you. “Flattery is a little thick today. You might want to tone it down, or I’ll catch on to the fact that you want something.”

You stuck your tongue out at his words. “All I wanted was to look at you while you sleep!”

“Freak.” He paired his words with a kiss to your forehead to show he didn’t actually mean them. 

The two of you were silent for a while. You thought he had fallen back asleep, so you occupied your time tracing over his tattoos. But after a few minutes, he spoke again.

“Okay, seriously-” He pulled back slightly to look at you. He tended to do that when he wanted to make sure you were being truthful. “What did you want to do today?”

You were never good at hiding your emotions. You knew they had all washed over your face in a matter of seconds, and Law could read them all with intense precision. Confusion. Knowing. Irritation. And then, understanding. 

“I don’t want anything from you, Law,” you explained. “I was just…enjoying the view? I don’t know how to say it correctly. I find myself staring sometimes because I find you interesting.”

Law’s brows scrunched together in confusion. “If you wanted a good view, the deck and the sea are far more interesting. Especially at this time of day.”

You gave a humorless laugh. “I love you more than I love the sea, idiot.”

He froze at those words, and you could see him struggling to make sense of them. “So you were staring at me…?”

“Because I love you,” you finished for him. 

That didn’t seem to help. “And you love me because…?”

“I don’t know!” You gave out a sharp laugh at the thought. “There are no reasons and so many reasons! But there are no conditions for my love, Law! I just love you because I love you. I can’t say exactly why I love you. I just do!”

You had really done it now. You were fairly certain you had never seen Law more confused or more flustered than he was in this moment. He gave a hard swallow and nodded his head, but you could tell further clarification was still needed.

“You don’t understand,” you said, watching his eyes turn to the ceiling. If they went there, that usually meant he was lost in thought. 

He shrugged. “I do, in a way. I feel that way about you, but I…well, I never expected someone to feel that way about me.”

The weight of his words made your heart sink. He deserved more than anyone to know how much he was treasured. You would die for him for no other reason than love. And while he could grasp the concept, he couldn’t understand why someone would feel that way towards him. 

“How about I tell you all the things I love about you?” you offered softly, trying to pull him away from his thoughts. It was too early to be thinking of such deep topics.

His eyes shifted over to you, and you could see he was half alarmed by your offer. But you could see the smallest spark of intrigue. 

So you began listing everything you could think off, absentmindedly still tracing over his tattoos. 

The sun was more than halfway across the sky before you finished. And there was a soft smile on his face during your all’s afternoon nap. 

[penvisions]

underbelly {gone to the dogs} - a holiday special

Pairing: Boston QZ! Joel Miller x F! Reader

Summary: You and Joel have an understanding, a new thing between you both. Where once biting words were exchanged and annoyance flared, now there's this simmering thing that slowly takes hold. And who is Joel Miller if not a giving man at his core, determined to do right by the people he lets into his pack?

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: canon typical language, outbreak fic, age gap (about 15 years), sub! joel miller, dom / sub dynamics, sexual content, rough sex, p in v, smut, unprotected p in v (it's the end of the world, y'all), oral (m and f receiving), sappy gift giving, holiday fic, some good ole pwp (well a little bc it's me lol)

Fic Notes: set at the beginning of their relationship, so between chapters five and six, i believe

A/N: hello, my loves! this is an apology of sorts for joel's behavior in the most recent chapter of the main series 😅felt like i needed to even the playing field a bit hehe. happy holidays and hope the days are good to y'all!

ao3 link || series masterlist || navigation || ko-fi

The table in front of you is an organized mess. From the small baggies of pills and powder, to the piles of hand rolled cigarettes and joints separated in plastic bins, there are four more full of medicine and vitamins that aren’t offered at the infirmary. This is most of the current stock you have, save for a bin that contains five to ten baggies of each drug and pill you offer safely secured underneath the loose panel of wood that acts as one of the many patch ups to the walls of your apartment, this one in your bedroom right beside the bathroom door.

You’ve got a beaten up notebook open as you’re looping out names and exchanges owed. A tally of who you traded with the past two weeks and what they asked for in the next two. There’s a lot to organize and you take an afternoon each week to keep it all neatly transcribed. The small bottle of ink you have is beside the little stamp you’ve kept well hidden from anyone else. Not wanting it to fall into the wrong hands and end up being used on product that is certainly not yours or up to your standards.

Tess had just gotten up from the couch, her resting spot for a moment after work. An inner jacket pocket full of baggies she was about to go and deliver to the tenants of the building next door. Just as you’re about to get up and stretch your legs, the front door opens after a jingling of keys and the lock turning.

Joel.

He’s back late for the day, but you don’t mind getting the random hours to spend with him. You do a lap or two around the table before you set a pot of water up on the stove to boil in an attempt at a late lunch. There are a few cans of potatoes you found last week and you wanted to try and make something soft and hot- mashed potatoes.

Snow dusts the top of his shoulders as you watch him carefully lock the door behind himself, his thick fingers sliding the deadbolt and side latch locks. It’s all in his hair too, darkening the locks by contrast, though you can see the gray beginning to thread itself between the strands. Without a word, Joel is turning and something flies out of his grip and towards you across the room.

You catch it, though the hit of the hard thing is cushioned by a swath of thick paper around it and a twine bow tied to keep it closed.

“Joel, what the hell?” But he doesn’t respond, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it on the back of the chair you had been in before disappearing into the bedroom. His boots clunk with the heavy steps he takes, the pain in his back and hips worse today without him needing to tell you. Sighing, you set the electric burner to the lowest setting and sit back at the table.

The little wrapped item gets set to the side, not forgotten but saved for later.

“Why didn’t you open it?”

“It’s just more of the same. Wanted to catalogue everything I already have before adding more to the roster,” You swoop the pencil in your hand over the expanse of the table, it was clear what was going on, wasn’t it? Why did he have to pick arguments with you even now, you’ve shared your apartment and bed with him for nearly a year. But sometimes you still feel like you didn’t know all of him and while you had resigned yourself to that very likely reality, you would take what he could offer you. What he was willing and wanting to offer you, because when you did- the tension in his shoulders eased just a bit, that scowl he wears so well lessens just a bit, his dark eyes lighten enough to let you glimpse at the person you assume he used to be.

“Darlin’, it ain’t none of that.” When you tilt your head to the side, much like an entranced dog, you can see the way his adam’s apple bobs, his next words the softest you’ve ever hear from him. In both sentiment and tone, aside from the night everything shifted. “It’s a gift for you. For the holiday.”

“Joel…” The confusion leaks out of you, replaced by a warmth in your chest. It’s been…god, it’s been years since anyone got you anything for the holidays. And here he is, all brooding and big and violent, giving you a piece of himself you hadn’t previously seen. His eyes are heavy on you as the paper crinkles, the twine unravels.

Atop the notebook, nestled in the ‘gift wrap’ is a little wooden figure. A dog. A cane corso dog.

A physical depiction of the very thing that lended you the nickname you’ve taken on in stride. Adapted in your endeavor to provide things for the people that the remnants of government forces refused to or asked for too much in exchange for. You were always giving, sacrificing, scrounging, never taking anything for yourself unless absolutely necessary. But this? This was something just for you, something made just for you but the looks of it. The scrapes and a blade obvious in the carving.

The gasp that leaves you does nothing to help the rapid flutter of your heart.

He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, sharp eyes watching the way water droplets cling to your skin as you emerge from your shower. The door was wide open, the space heater Joel had found among the rubble now fixed and set between the bedroom and bathroom threshold. A lame attempt at bringing some warmness to where you both curled up at night.

The cold was getting to him, his body aching. Not just sore, but aching in the way that begins to spur thoughts of old age in his mind. He’s not that old, he doesn’t think. But he is a hell of a lot older than you and he sees it in the way you perk up at the sight of snow softly falling from the sky. In the way you offer to run to the commissary or the food hall for everyone when there’s just no energy for standing at the stove or tinkering with something that’s been broken one too many times.

Your eyes are on him as you approach but he doesn’t feel like he used to when they pinned him down in a challenge. Now he feels rooted to the spot, waiting to see what you would do with anticipation rather than anger at being challenged. He no longer feels like you’re heeling him, like he’s nothing but dirt and grime underneath the tread of your boots, flesh that was torn apart and stuck between your teeth.

No. Now he feels like he’s been granted a fresh breath of air straight from your lungs.

And he’s reveling in it. He can’t help out but reach with itching fingers, trailing over the silk of your damp skin. The hitch in your breath he can fucking hear is driving him wild, the way you freely walk around like this when before it was all growls and threats if he even so much as managed a glimpse of what you look like underneath your threadbare clothing. Of the real you that hides behind the harsh persona and attitude you’ve taken on as a shell against the world.

He sees it now, as you let him trail his fingers up to the crooks of your elbows and tug you between his legs. His lips press to your skin, a groan escaping from his chest despite the pull in his shoulder muscles at the action.

The shift of the dynamic was sudden, brought on by seeing you in a new element. One where he was able to glimpse the person you used to be. And it had made his heart both stutter and ache. If you had crossed paths before the end of the world, you would’ve thrown him for a loop, stuck in his head until he carved out time to do something about it. But as the universe played it’s hand, he’s still crossed paths with you. That’s good enough for him, despite the biting words you used to mean as you berated him and bossed him around- shoved the barrel of a gun in his face and demanded what the hell he thought he was doing trying to edge in on the smuggling scene here in this zone like he owned the place.

Because he didn’t then, and he still doesn’t now. No, that’s you.

And he’s now the muscle in it, determined to do right by the situation. It feels good to step down, to follow the orders he gets from you or from you by Tess’s mouth. To just be a piece in the game he had been heading for far too long in far too many places and scenarios. It was nice to just turn off his brain and listen.

He feels much the same way now as he watches with a quick thrumming of his heart and blood rushing to his cock as you move to kneel behind him on the bed still in only your thin towel. Hands gently kneed into his aching muscles, and he leans into the touch. It was a good thing, he thinks, to have taken the time to carve that figure for you. A gift. A frivolous thing he wanted to give to you in the midst of chaos and too cold weather, the half-smile it brought to your face worth the effort of a new hobby he had dared to try.

When prodding fingers find a particular hard knot between his neck and shoulder blade, the moan he lets out pinches his face up in pain.

“Lemme get the menthol stuff, it’ll help.”

He watches as you strut across the room and disappear into the kitchen, towel now gone and all your skin on display. He feels the swell of his cock harden in his jeans and presses a palm to relieve some of the ache there too.

He’s always been the one to lead, to take charge but he’s thinking more and more that you like being that way. And his mind blanks as you stand in front of him with hardened nipples and a jar of homemade lotion that smells far too strong to handle at the moment.

When you upcap it, he reaches out to stop you. The puzzled look that has the hint of annoyance behind it has him rolling his lips, words stuck in his throat. As the silence drags on, you must see the way that his eyes are darkened by arousal and contemplation. But you don’t move until he manages to unstick the words from where they’re lodged.

“Just…not right now. Your hands are good enough, we can save it for another time, yeah?”

Without a word, you’re twisting the cap back on the jar and then pushing a small hand to the center of his chest.

“Then lay back.”

“What for?” He raises a thick brow at the command, ready to dispel whatever hesitation that lingers in his body.

“Gonna take care of you. You gonna let me?”

All he can muster up is a nod before he listens and does exactly what you ask of him. He lets go of everything, every thought and you take the reigns from his hands. The clink of his belt is loud, breaking the drone of the heater working in the corner and the sound of his zipper as him closing his eyes tightly.

“You gifted me something and now let me do the same. Just lemme take the lead, turn that brain off for a moment, yeah?”

Joel sighs out a ‘yes’ as he lifts his hip at the tap of your palms there, allowing you to peel the jeans and boxers from his legs. Goosebumps crop up at the cooler temperature, the heat of his hardened cock bobs against his stomach. He’s never been this way before. Not with you and barely with Tess, physical and sexual interactions always on his terms, on his conditions. Giving into you know feels right, he trusts you. Even as he feels the nip of sharp teeth on his neck before a warm tongue sooths it over.

“You can be such a good boy sometimes.” And the praise falling from your lips in a confident tone should irk him, but it does nothing but cause him to jerk below the waist and clench his teeth together as he feels it wash over him. It’s genuine, not teasing. He should know, because he’s normally the one praising you in such a manner. It’s a nice moment, he realizes, letting you take the lead. Allowing himself to fall into your commands in a less than serious way. In a more serious way. This is everything.

His chest heaves as you move down his body, the denim shirt he’s wearing unbuttoned as you go, lips trailing over coarse chest hair, the trail that moves down down down…

The feeling of him in your mouth is a heady sensation, it’s lighting up your body in hot sparkles that almost vibrate in intensity. The salty, musky taste of him on your tongue is one you would never tire of, even if he seldom lets you indulge him this way.

Down to his core, he’s a giver. He’s someone who gives himself to those around him and that’s obvious even in the bedroom. He always pleasures you, with his plush, delectable lips. His thick fingers and wide hands, the edge of his strong nose. The heft and feel of his cock something you crave just as much as he seems to be willing to sink into your pulsing heat at any chance he could get. It wasn’t just about fucking. Hell, it wasn’t even just about being fucked by him- it was something more. A man whose walls were built so high, bricks unsettling and gaps forming as you both share daily responsibilities and nightly routines. You were bonded.

But right now? He’s given himself wholly over to you.

His lips form a hard line as you nose along the leading head of his cock, flushed a pretty dusky pink, the exact same shade. But you can’t fight the frown that threatens to take over your own as you press your them to the slit to gather the pearlescent drop there, tongue peeking out to taste it.

“Lemme hear you, Joel.” That paired with the hungry way you swallow him down has him surging up with a strangled expletive followed by your name. After that, he hardly has any trouble letting loose deep groans and guttural growls as you take him back into your mouth and hollow your cheeks. His hips lift as you take him as deep as you can, leaking head nudging the back of your throat in the most delicious way.

It's dangerous, how powerful you feel right now. With Joel Miller loose limbed and compliant beneath you, surrendering to whatever you deem he deserves.

But nothing compares to the grip his hands form on your hips and the frantic look in his eyes as you straddle his thick thighs and sink down on him until your bottom is flush with them. Panting, you grind slowly, reveling in the feel of him deep and stretching you to make room for him to nestle. He’s hitting that sweet spot only he can reach and starts burst in the corners of your vision as you meet his gaze.

He’s never looked for open and recked, eyes blown own, breath puffing out in harsh pants, lips glistening from where you swear drool shines over them…

Tracing the bounce of your chest as you continue to grind against him, pleasure swathing you both in a tingling that crawls over every inch of skin. You clench around him, pulling a tortured sound from him as he fights off the feeling of bucking up into you. The shaking of his legs makes you feel pride spark low in your belly just as a flash of heat does.

“Hold on tight, I’m gonna take a ride.”

His head knocks back harshly onto the bed when you lift up and slam back down, eyes fluttering shut as all he does is hold on tight to your hips and lets you take care of him.

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[mysicklove]

𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄

DAY 10: SOMINOPHILIA

With: Levi Ackerman

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: gn! reader, sub! levi, nightmares + insomnia mentioned, oral (m! receiving), handjob in dreams, implied age gap, set in around season 2 timeline? im kinda forgetting which season erwin was in... kissing..lots of kissing, reader being puppy coded and levi is sick in love

A/N: sorry this is late!!!! i hope this also isnt too confusing considering it switches back and forth between his dream and irl. idk. also title is named after a song by The Mamas and The Papas that i LOVEEEE

Levi Ackerman finds himself plagued with nightmares. It was always like that though, since he could remember at least. Three to four nights a week he awakes in the middle of night dripping with sweat with his heart nearly beating out of his chest. He has grown used to the lack of sleep by now, it barely bugs him anymore.

That is, until he found someone to share his bed with. 

You were his light, as dramatic and sappy as it sounds, and something he will never admit out loud. But it was true, finally in this dim world he finds himself in, you came crashing in, brighter than the sun. He had fallen for you in record time, and you, drawn to his stoic and feisty aura, came tumbling down after him.

It's been a year now since you've gotten together, and Levi swears the nightmares are getting less frequent. 

Well, at least in the nights where you lay beside him. The nights where you hold him, and he has easier access to your heartbeat. The steady rhythm of your chest rising and falling. Alive.

He doesn't go into too much depth about the nightmares, but you know the general scene of them, usually relating back to his comrades deaths. He has mentioned that the recent ones involve you, and it makes your heart crumble for your beloved each time his voice cracks through the explanation. You don’t press too much on the matter – the nights he wakes up in a cold sweat, you are there to ease him back to sleep, reassuring that you and he are safe. He almost gets a full night of sleep with you around.

But alas, you aren’t all sunshine and rainbows, and neither is he. Nope, you happen to be one of the most erotic people have ever met (though, he hasn’t met many). A sick brat is what he calls you, or sometimes a disgusting pervert, if he’s feeling extra grumpy. The nicknames fly past your head, as you pepper his face with kisses. It was all in good spirit, is what you remind yourself at least. 

“Soooo, Hange recommended–”

“No.”

You pout at the man, pulling away from his chest to glare at him. “You didnt even let me finish my sentence.”

His cold face doesnt let up, even if his eyes hold a playful light to them. “I am smart enough to recognize that anything having to do with Hange is a bad idea.”

You playfully hit his chest, and the man raises his eyebrows at you. A smile pulls at your lips, and Levi cant help but stare whimsically at you. It was unfair, really. “Fine, get on with it, brat.”

“How would you feel if I woke you up with a blow job?” His reaction is immediate, first shock, and then as a couple seconds go by he seems to be much more inclined to agree, but then finally settles on an scowl.

“Why were you talking to Hange about these things?”

You cock your head to the side, tapping on your chin. “Well, I mentioned that your nightmares have started again, and they told me that oral sex helps stop them. Something neurologically with your dick and brain? I don't know.”

He stares at you for a couple of seconds, bewildered at your explanation. But, he realizes quickly what is up, and he immediately pinches the bridge of his nose with a long sigh. “They are fucking with you, idiot. Just trying to get me laid. Hange has always been like that.”

Your face falls at the words, and Levi swears you managed to master the kicked puppy look. He grabs your hands and pulls you back onto his chest, rolling his eyes when you hum into his skin. The warmth brought him comfort, and he finds himself more at peace. “I mean…It won't help with the nightmares, but who would turn down waking up to a blowjob?” Levi mumbles into your hair, while rubbing his hands up and down your arms.

You twist to look up at him, the familiar grin back on your face. “Yeah?”

He scoffs at you, an embaressed blush coating his cheeks. “Just dont wake me up early, alright. Just gonna piss me off.”

He swears he can see you wagging a tail. “Of course, Captain!”

Two weeks have gone by, and Levi has not woken up to your face anywhere near his dick. He has awoke to kisses along his cheeks, and neck, but that wasnt new, you were always disgustingly affectionate in your half awake state. He holds a content (half) smile for about ten seconds as he shuts the door of your room, only for it to drop when he sees Hange.

He wasnt the one to complain though, maybe you were just teasing him. You always did like to press his buttons. He wasn't going to give you the satisfaction of knowing he wants it. So, the dark haired man continues on, nightmares and all, through the weeks.

By the time a month came passing by, he knows that you forgot all about your stupid little promise – your stupid naive words that only worked to piss him off. He glared at you from across the halls for a whole week – never daring to actually show you real signs that he was upset. But after you accidentally caught him frowning at you from across the training grounds, he was immediately dragged back your shared rooms, and fucked lovingly, as you apolgized for everything you could think of that would piss the man off.

You didnt mention the blowjob, but Levi was content with the disheveled hair, and the hickeys and bite marks littering his body, so he forgives you. 

He forgets about the blowjob after two months. You were more horny than usual, so the two of you were at it multiple times a week. He would end up too exhausted to hold any real dreams, including his nightmares.

Levi was okay with it.

9 am. Levi, for the first time ever, was oversleeping. Of course when you woke up at 8 am, on your day off from training, and found your lover by your side, you couldnt help but be shocked. He was usually gone by 5 am to get to training. 

But you heard him woke up multiple times in the middle of the night. The nightmares were back. His shaky hands wrapped around you, and he panted into your neck, trembling like you've never seen before. You don't know what triggered it, but Levi seemed to have a really bad night. 

He deserves to sleep in. So, at fifteen past 8, you scamper to Erwins office and beg the commander for Levi to have a day off. He always did have a soft spot for you. For one, you brought happiness to humanities strongest, and also because his friend silently threatened him death if he was to mistreat you. Erwin agreed without much hesitation. 

You crawl into bed next to your lover, and begin to trace his content face. At least the nightmares were gone for the night.

Then, the realization hits you. This was the perfect time for you to finally do as promised.

You waited months because you wanted Levi to forget about your words. Of course, you assumed he forgot them after a couple of days, paying no attention to your promise, but you waited it out just in case. 

And now, the both of you dont have any plans today. A once in a lifetime experience, it has got to be.

So with one more glance at your lover, you kiss his cheek, hold back a small giggle, and slowly remove the blanket from his lap. Then, you slide yourself down on the bed, and carefully manevuer yourself in between his legs. He doesnt sleep with much attire, growing hot in the night. Plus with the addition of the cold sweat he often finds himself in, he learns that going next to bare was easier. 

You pull down his boxers, and are immediately exposed to a dark patch of hair. It's trimmed properly, but he prefers to have a little hair down their over being completely shaven. Something on the lines of protecting his dick from germs or whatnot. You dont listen to the details, only thinking about how hot it is.

The boxers make it past his thighs, and you glance back up at the man. He doesn't even seem to flinch when the cool air comes into contact with his skin. He snoozes peacefully into the pillow, his dark hair covering his eyes. 

His dick lays limp against his leg, and you pick it up slowly, careful to not wake him up. You run your fingers over it a couple of times, and then, holding the back of it with your fingers to support it, you run your tongue from bottom to top of the length. 

Levi doesn't move. You take that as a sigh to continue. 

Another stripe of the tongue, and then two more, and nothing happens. You grow bolder by the moment. You place his still soft cock into your mouth, and this time you do hear a reaction. Its a quiet sigh, but it was something. His eyes still remain shut.

Slowly, you begin to suckle on the tip, finding it easier to fit it in your mouth while soft. Your tongue roams the shaft, and you press sloppy, wet kisses to his veins. Blood rushes to his cock unconsciously, and Levi still has not stirred, even with his cock now hard. You chuckle with amusement, but dont stop your movements, now dragging your hands along his thighs to appreciate his body.

Levi was having a good dream. It wasnt like the past couple of nightmares, no, this one seemed to have a light hue. It was just the two of you, laying with your backs against grass. A open field, far away from everyone, and not a threat in sight. Titans were gone.

A peaceful world for the two of you. A world Levi craved. 

His hands trace your face, and he stares at you, admiring every crease and divot of your skin. You slide your way over toward him, leaning forward to kiss him. “I love you.”

He hums, eyes falling shut, as he wraps his arms around your body. “Yeah, yeah. Love ya too, brat.”

You giggle at him, and suddenly the smile on your face shifts. It turns soft, the tips of your mouth curling up in an almost feline way, while you eyes become hooded. He watches you lean forward and press your lips to his. The man doesnt stop you, gently kissing you back while your tongue slips into his mouth. Levi gulps when your hands trace down to his pants, and he quickly looks around the meadow, afraid to discover an unwelcomed guest. Of course there was nobody, it was a dream, not a nightmare. Your hand slips into his pants, and Levi’s back arches in the grass.

He twitches in his sleep and you smile fondly at the man. The tip of his cock rest against your cheek, as you admire him for a second too long, only to be rewarded with jolt of his hips from the source unknown, sending it slapping across your face. You hold back a laugh, and then grab at it again, mumbling out a, “Even a brat in your sleep, huh Captain?” 

You lean forward and wrap your lips around him again.

“D-Don't stop!” Levi groans out, hands clutching at your shirt while he squeezes his eyes shut. It doesn't stop the sun from getting past his eyelids, so he moves closer to you to hopefully block it out. You press your lips to his neck, nibbling at the space just beneath his ears.

“Would never,” You purr, and the man glances at your hand. His pants are pulled down completely now, and your pace was rutheless in its up and down motions. It sends him shivering, and covering his face with the back of his arm. He breathes through clenched teeth, and tries his best not to let out a whimper. The man hears your giggle, and before he could stop himself, the whine slips out.

The first noise of the morning was a low whimper. Not much, but definitely there, and unbelievably cute. You grip at his hips and try to take him deeper, but his hips thrusts back into your mouth with another paired whine. Your eyes widen, and you gag out at the unexpected movement, having to pull away to catch your breath. His dark hair whips back and forth, and he continues to make low mewling noises. “Huh, and you call me the pervert. What are you dreaming about, pretty?”

Levi moans into your mouth, wrapping his arms around your neck. His hips buck up into your hands, and you playfully bite his lip, earning a dramatic grunt in complaint. He grips your hair and pulls you back to his lips before you try and let out another teasing remark. Precum leaks onto your hand, and he swears that it provides more of the makeshift lube then usual. Your hand feels better than normal, strangely damp, and so warm. Did handjobs always feel this good?

He can feel his high approaching and his breaths come out quicker. “Gonna..cum. Fuck!”

You detach yourself from his lips. “No, no, no! Not yet!” You tease, voice light and almost giggly. It wasn't the first time you denied him of his release, but it was rare. You always di did pamper him. 

The man scowls at you, borderline on the cusp of baring his teeth. “Why?” He demands, short and simple, but shows exactly how peeved he is. Levi is more than surprised to feel that you didn't squeeze his cock in warning. No, still the warm, tight feeling, that does not make any sense to him.

“Can you do something for me first?”

A demand from you? Unheard of. “Get on with it, I-Im close”

Your hand movements become louder and louder, and it shouldn't sound like that. It's so lewd, and the squelching noise are never that loud. 

You press you lips to his ear, and a shiver runs down his spine at your breath, which is strangely cooler than usual. “Wake up, Captain.”

His eyes snap open immediately and he pants into the dark room. Levi hears it first, before he feels it. A loud slurping sort of noise, and the man feels his cock trapped between something warm, wet. 

A throat. Not a hand. 

He is quick to manevour himself to hold his weight on his elbows, and glances down at you, breaths coming out shallow and quick. You smile when you catch his eye, and for a second you pull away from him. You pepper his length down with kisses. “Well, well, good morning, sleepy head,” You mumble, letting another swipe of your tongue graze his thick blue vein. Then, with little hesitation, you dive back onto his cock, taking it as far as you can into your mouth.

“What are you–Fuck!” His legs instinctually bend outward, and his back arches. His head was still foggy in his half sleepen state. Was that all a dream? Was this real? He grips onto your hair, and does his best not to force you deeper onto his cock.

Levi could feel his orgasm approaching and rapidly, same as the dream. But this time it was real, and by god did it feel that way. His hips buck into your mouth and he lets out loud moans, tucking his face into the pillow to try and muffle them. 

He tries to ask for permission again to cum again, hoping that this time real you wouldnt lead him on. It comes out more as a command, but you just roll your eyes with a smile, the giggle in the back of your throat sending him spiral. 

“Cumming. Oh god. Thank you, thank you, thank you!” He chants, and your eyes widen in shock, but you don't pull away from his cock. He was never the one to be polite in bed, the little brat was always barking commands and half hearted complaints. He must be really enjoying this treat if he was to thank you.

You dont have time to dwell on it much, because he forces your head lower onto his cock and cums into your mouth. You wince at the taste, but bear no mind to it as you watch your lover unravel. His back still continues to arch (which you will never get over) while his eyes are shut. The noises he lets out are soft, more of a mewl and a groan, but adorable nonetheless. His whole body trembles and his legs lay out wide, shaking under the force of the orgasm.

You pull away when he is done, and wipe your lips with the back of your hand. “Taste perfect as usual. Always so good on your diet!”

He rolls his eye at you, but it doesn't hold much bite considering that the man seemed to be basking in the post orgasm glow. “You are gross. I know that shit tastes bad.”

“Nope! Anything that the Captian makes is amazing”

He throws a pillow at your face, and you pout at him, a dramatic whine slipping past your lips. “Don't call me that, I am not even your Captain anymore, brat. And stop pouting!” He demands, pulling up his boxers before letting out a big stretch.

“Why are you so mean to me?” You complain, crawling forward to lay on his chest. “After I gave you head too!”

The frown does not drop from his face, but he does trace his fingers along your face. A silent token of affection that you purr into. “Took ya long enough. Thought you forgot about it.”

You fake hurt, taking in a dramatic breath. “Of course not! I would never lie to you.” The words are light, and holds a smile in them. “And hey, dont you think you are a little spoiled? Complaining that you got a blowjob too late.”

Levi doesnt even seem to react, his facial expression remaining neutral, and his words flat. “No ‘m not. Said thank you and everything.”

To this, you do nod, practically vibrating with affection to give. It was too hard to really be upset with him. “Super polite of you! I was so impressed!”

This does make him roll his eyes. “You really think low of me, huh?”

You poke at his cheek with a smile plastered on your face. “Aww cmon dont be dramatic again. You know I dont. Oh! Also, did it help with the nightmares?” You tease, knowing exactly what type of dream he really was having. “You sounded very….Scared in your dream.”

He seems to flush red, but alas, Levi was never the one to be on the losing foot. “....Yes. Seems like you are going to have to do this for me everyday. To stop the nightmares.”

You burst out laughing, and fail to see the small grin that creeps up the dark haired man's face.

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[cosmicalily]

5:37pm with kim seungmin - a @cosmicalily timestamp

author’s note: oh, kim seungmin. you’re the only boy keeping me bisexual (as opposed to being a lesbian), the victim of the sole 3% of male attraction in my heart. love you pookums!

Shopping to furnish your very own home with Seungmin was every bit as exciting and chaotic as you expected it to be, but you made it fun. What would have been a chore became a challenge, a game, from his warm hand in the back pocket of your jeans to your habit of pointing out silly quilt covers and exclaiming how they were exactly his style. Young love, an old woman had chuckled, watching Seungmin scoop you off a display bed that you had made yourself quite at home in.

“Softer mattresses are comfy,” you argued.

“Firmer mattresses are better for your back,” Seungmin retaliated, and then proceeded to list a dozen other reasons why it was the smarter choice. You weren’t really listening. When he was passionately talking about something, whether it be Mini’s incredibly complex thoughts and personality, his favourite album, or, at this very moment, the density of mattresses, you always fell a little more in love with him. His eyes would sparkle and he’d talk, calmly but intelligently, and my god, if it wasn’t the most attractive thing ever.

“Y/N?”

“Mm?”

“We’re getting the firm mattress, yeah?” Seungmin asked, looking amused.

“Sure baby, whatever you want,” you replied, still in a trance. He chuckled, pulling your face close to your cheek, which you assumed he would kiss. Instead, he licked it, the way Mini would, and you squealed, snapping out of your daydream and kicking him softly in the shins.

Once the two of you were in the car, bedframe and mattress safely secured, Seungmin turned to you, eyes sparkling. “I can’t believe we’re going to get married next year,” he whispered, and you smiled at him. Sappy Seungmin, although often only found in small quantities, was your favourite, and something about the intimacy and domesticity of everything recently; getting engaged, adopting your beloved puppy, Mini, buying your first home; had brought him out a whole lot more.

“Me neither,” you cupped his soft cheeks with your hands and kissed him on the nose. “There’s nobody else I’d want to do any of this with, you know. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Seungmin said, cheeks a little pink. You hauled yourself over the centre console and onto his lap, the way you usually did, holding him close. You kissed his lips, soft and deep, and he ran a hand through your hair, smiling dreamily.

“We should probably get home to our child,” you remarked, a little reluctantly. A part of you wanted to stay in this moment, making out with Seungmin in the IKEA car park until your lungs combusted. 

“Yeah,” Seungmin replied breathlessly, and he kissed you again.

[nightbeforethend]

i wished for you // choi jongho

a/n: meant to write a little something for Jongho's birthday and wouldn't you know it, I forgot every time I thought about it. I wrote this sappy shit while taking one of the longest baths of my life today so enjoy!

genre: fluff

word count: 848

warnings: none really outside of the mention of alcohol/being drunk? a little lovesick bullshit here?? a little self-indulgent fluff there???

———————————————————————————

It wasn’t uncommon for you to return home from work to find a voicemail from Jongho waiting for you. In fact, the two of you had been engaged in a playful game of voicemail tag for the past week and a half, navigating the challenges of time differences and your hectic schedules. Yet, even though you would have preferred to hear his voice directly, there was something comforting about receiving those little snippets of him—like a sweet surprise at the end of a long, dreary day.

Most of his voicemails were usually straightforward—brief updates about his day, questions about yours, the usual exchanges that kept you connected across the miles. But tonight’s voicemail was much different.

“Ok, so I know we just got to the point of saying ‘I love you’ recently,” he began, a playful tone to his voice as though he was already aware of how this might sound. "So I hope this doesn’t freak you out, but I’m a weeeee bit drunk." You could picture him grinning sheepishly, the way he always did when he was nervous or about to say something he thought might make you laugh. He continued, “And when the guys had me blow out the candles on my cake tonight, I wished for you."

You paused when you heard those words. "I wished for you." It sounded so simple, but it carried a weight you weren’t expecting. He already had you—what more could he wish for? The thought lingered for a moment before he quickly clarified, his tone a little softer now, a touch more serious.

"Not like... I didn't actually wish FOR you. I already have you, duh." You couldn’t help but smile at that, imagining the playful roll of his eyes as he said it. "But I wished for you to always be with me, which is so stupid because I know you could never just drop everything and run around the world with me." His voice dipped slightly, as if he was wrestling with the reality of the situation, acknowledging how far-fetched his wish really was. And yet, there was something so genuine about the way he said it, something so heartfelt that it made your chest tighten.

He paused for a moment, as though he was trying to gather his thoughts or maybe second-guessing whether he should keep going, but then he pushed on. “But still, I wished that by some miracle we could just be alone together for the rest of our lives.”

That’s when the weight of his words really sank in. He wasn’t just talking about wanting you by his side during the fun, easy moments. He was talking about the kind of deep, unwavering connection where nothing—no job, no obligation, no distance—could ever come between you. It was the kind of wish you made when you’re so completely in love with someone that you can’t imagine a life without them.

In his slightly tipsy, vulnerable state, he was letting you in on something raw and real: the dream of having you all to himself, of being able to live in a world where it was just the two of you, free from the chaos of everyday life. It was the kind of wish that, while impossible, was filled with so much love and longing that it made your heart ache a little. He knew it wasn’t realistic—he even said so—but that didn’t stop him from wishing for it anyway. There was something achingly romantic about that.

Then came the part that made you smile the most: “Did that make sense?” You could practically hear him blushing on the other end of the line, embarrassed by how open he had just been, how he had let his guard down completely. And before you could even process everything he’d said, he wrapped it up with a quick, “It’s ok, love you, goodnight,” like he needed to get the last few words out before his courage faded.

That voicemail—just a simple, drunken message—felt like you were getting to peek through a window that lead straight to his heart. It wasn’t just about the words “I love you” that you’d both recently started saying; it was about the kind of love that made him wish, without hesitation, that you could always be together. His wish wasn’t about material things or fleeting moments. It was about living a life where it was just the two of you, lost in your own little world.

Sure, he laughed it off a bit, tried to make it seem like it was no big deal, but you knew better. There was something so sincere, so deeply affectionate in his words that you couldn’t help but feel your heart swell as you listened. It wasn’t just the alcohol talking—this was him, unfiltered, admitting that he couldn’t imagine his life without you in it, and wishing that somehow, you’d never have to be apart.

No matter what, you were determined to make his birthday wish a reality. After all, it was your wish too, and you’d tell him that as soon as his hangover subsided the next day.