#how can a fuckboy be such a babygirl

[lenreli]

[hyprfixate]

a genetic disposition (to loving you) :: [BC x Reader]

read on AO3

summary: seeing chan at the genetic clinic when he told you he was too busy to hang out was one thing. noticing he was now significantly taller than he was a couple weeks ago was another.

learning he's been diagnosed with the werewolf disorder is something different entirely.

pairing: bang chan x reader

tropes: childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, idiots in love, modern werewolf au, no transformations tho, chronically ill reader, reader has EDS (ehlers danlos syndrome), some angst, slight miscommunication trope

smut warning: masturbation (m), handjobs, blink-and-you-miss-it subby chan, voyeurism, pussy eating (x2), no actual ABO dynamics but that's not stopping Chan from calling himself Alpha, dirty talk, lots of begging, standing/wall sex, cumming inside AND cumming outside.

content warning: talks about being in pain, self deprecating talk, anxiety spirals, very brief internalized ableism, panic attack

word count: 21.6k

author's note: if you saw the three different attempts to post this, no you didn't. enjoy! <3

Chan was acting weird.

To be fair, he always acts weird. Weird might actually be his default. But this was a different type of weird– a weird that involved canceling plans last minute and making up flimsy excuses about why. 

Today, he was supposed to accompany you to your doctor's appointment. A simple, low stakes kind of hangout. You looked at your phone with a sigh.

Channie: sorry, can we do a raincheck for our hangout? not to sound like a fuckboy but something came up

Channie: i really am sorry babygirl. i'll make it up to you i promise. please tell me how it goes okay?

You let out a small huff of air. You would love to be annoyed, mad even, but at the end of the day, this is Chan, your best friend since elementary school. The guy who held you through heartbreaks and stressful semesters. The guy who memorized your ridiculously complicated Dunkin order. The guy who dropped everything to stay with you at the hospital a few months ago when things got really bad.

The guy you're secretly in love with.

Okay, maybe that was a minor and insignificant detail in the grand scheme of things. Either way, you can't be mad at Chan. 

You: don't worry channie. i'll be okay. I hope your stuff goes well ok? 

Channie: love u, good luck with your appointment, it's gonna be ok

Right. Your appointment.

You'd been having some increasingly bothersome and worrying symptoms for the better part of 2 years now. It started with a noticeable dull ache in your knees that wouldn't go away, reaching a peak now where there's not a single day you wake up pain free. The doctors were just as stumped as you were, and as sort of a last ditch effort, they sent you to a geneticist in the expensive part of the city. Thank goodness for adequate health insurance.

You were a bit nervous, which is why you asked Chan to come with you, but it wasn't that big of a deal. You've been to specialists before. 

Still, disappointment rises in your chest as you finish pulling your hair away from your face and securing it with a scrunchie before grabbing your essentials and heading out the door. You're more disappointed about the fact that he's not coming instead of what he's not coming to. You're getting a little weary and tired of the excuses and him bailing on plans. 

But then you think about the way his voice sounds when he calls you babygirl, and everything seems right again.

The trip to the geneticist office is long, and by the time you arrive, you feel the exhaustion in every joint. For such a high caliber place, it's decorated just as sterile and modern as you were expecting, with white walls and white furniture. When you go to check in, the receptionist hands you a tablet with various forms pulled up and points you to the waiting room.

You settle into one of the white waiting room chairs, balancing the iPad on your lap as you begin working through the forms. The questions start simple enough - name, date of birth, insurance information. Then they get more involved, diving into your medical history.

Have you experienced any of the following symptoms in the last six months?

The list that follows is daunting - joint pain (obviously), muscle weakness (sometimes), unexplained fatigue (who doesn't have that?), difficulty concentrating (depends on the day). You find yourself checking more boxes than you'd like.

Your mind drifts to Chan again. You wonder what was so important that he had to cancel. Usually, he at least gives you a concrete excuse, even if it's something silly like having to wash his hair or visit his parents. Today's vague "something came up" feels different. Worrying.

Before you can stop yourself, you pull out your phone.

You: this intake paperwork feels like the ending of a medication commercial

You: i’m surprised they haven't asked me if i or a loved one has been diagnosed with mesothelioma

The message stays on delivered for a while, longer than you expect. You give up on staring at your phone and turn your attention back to the paperwork.

After a ridiculous amount of questions and an even more ridiculous amount of signatures, you finish the preliminary stuff, heading back to the receptionist desk to hand her the iPad. She gives you a polite nod and smile and lets you know the nurse will be out in a second, so you can wait in the small chair by the double doors.

You're lost in thought, mindlessly scrolling through your phone when you hear the gentle sound of your name called. The sound makes you look up, tucking your phone away and grabbing your bag. A nurse stands by the double doors, clipboard in hand, wearing deep purple scrubs and a smile that somehow makes the sterile environment feel a little more human.

You push yourself up from the chair, joints starting their songs of protest after sitting still for so long. The nurse offers pleasantries that you respond to with your usual politeness. As you're walking towards the open door, you hear a beep and the whirr of an electronic lock unlocking. The closed side of the door swings open and–

There's Chan.

You both freeze mid-step, eyes wide and locked on each other like this is the first time you're seeing each other in years. It feels like it, but you did just see him last weekend at a mutual friend's birthday party. It was a fun night, but he was acting strange and dodgy then, too.

something came up.

You squint at him, not sure whether confusion or anger is winning the war in you right now. He opens his mouth once, twice– words are failing. The most he can do is let out a shaky, “Babygirl…”

You take that moment to really look at him. His hair is in its natural curly state, but significantly more messy than usual, wisps falling over and around themselves. His eyes are red and bagged heavily, and his shoulders seem like they're scrunching in on themselves. He hasn't looked like this since that night in the hospital with you.

Something is definitely wrong. 

The nurse clears her throat, and you remember you're being waited on. You motion wordlessly towards the nurse and he gives you a shaky nod.  

“I'll, um. I'll text you,” he mumbles weakly, holding the door open for you as you walk past. When you do, you can't help but look up at him, like way, way up. More than you usually do. You almost pause again– are your bone problems making you shrink, or is he somehow taller? Why does he look like that?

It's you who nods shakily this time, forcing yourself to tear your eyes away so you don't bump into a wall. It takes concentrated effort not to look back at him while you walk down the hallway, but somehow you manage.

The nurse brings you to an exam room and tells you to sit tight while she gets the vitals cart. You obey, still dazed and confused and maybe even a little hurt if you allow yourself to really feel it. Your phone buzzes less than a minute later, and you don't even have to guess who it is.

Channie: i'm so sorry.

Channie: i can explain. i promise.

Channie: i just.. i need some time before i can

Channie: im such a fucking idiot. i'm so sorry babygirl. please. 

There are a million and one responses in your head, each with varying levels of confusion or annoyance. But, among the haze, the image of his exhaustion floats back to you, and you find yourself folding.

As usual.

You: breathe, Chan. it's ok. 

You: whatever it is, we'll figure it out, yeah?

You: i do wish you told me but. it's okay. I can wait for an explanation.

Channie: you're so amazing. i don't deserve you. 

Channie: i'll call you when you get out ok? i love u

The nurse comes back with the vitals cart and begins prepping materials before you can respond properly, so you send back a heart and slip your phone into your pocket. When the blood pressure cuff tightens around your arm, you wonder if the nurse will notice how fast your heart is beating – though you're not sure if it's from anxiety or the way Chan's voice cracked when he called you babygirl.

Maybe both.

To his credit, Chan truly does make it up to you, in the form of an extended weekend away at his parents’ cabin upstate. The invitation, or request rather, comes a couple days after the geneticist incident while you're in bed feeling anxious over your test results.

Channie: picking u up thursday night, we're going to my parents’ cabin till monday

Channie: had plans?

If anyone else were to text you like that, you'd balk at their audacity. But because it's Chan, there's a growing heat in your face when you simply reply:

You: no plans. promise you won't bail?

He sends you a picture of his already packed duffel bag and backpack sitting by his door, then another picture of him and his laptop that's clearly pulled up to Google Maps. His eyebrow is raised, sinfully plump lips pulled into a smirk as he points at the screen.

Channie: give me some creditt

Channie: im already packed and the route is already planned

You giggle, feeling the perpetual knot of nerves in your chest loosen. A weekend away with Chan sounds like the perfect thing. It'll be a way to get your mind off the maybes and anxieties from your appointment, and a way to spend time with your best friend. 

A win-win.

You spend the next few days packing and gathering supplies for a weekend at the cabin, which isn't as simple a task as it sounds. Chan is adamant that you worry about nothing except getting your stuff together, so he won't tell you what he has planned or what to pack. After losing many back and forth arguments, you toss a little bit of everything in your small suitcase, leaving your backpack for entertainment and snack purposes.

Thursday creeps up slowly, then all at once. Unfortunately, you wake up to deep pain in almost all of your joints– even your fingers seem to be screaming with every movement. Getting ready takes longer than you want, but you push through, and it isn't long before you're sitting on your living room couch, waiting for Chan to let you know to come out. It was a wonder what large amounts of Ibuprofen could do.

You hear the familiar puttering of his engine before his text even comes through, the soft ding of your phone cutting through your apartment.

Channie: i'm here babygirl

Channie: coming up to help w ur bags 

A warm flutter runs through your chest at his thoughtfulness. You're not sure you'll ever really get used to it. 

You push yourself up from the couch, breath hitching when the movement causes a dull ache to radiate down the length of your legs. You pause, gripping the arm of the couch and squeezing your eyes shut for a moment.

It's fine, you reason with yourself. It's not that bad. You're fine.

You're thankful that you had the foresight to pack a suitcase instead of a duffle, at least this way you'll have something to bear your weight on while you walk.

Your jacket is slipped over one shoulder when you hear the buzz from your doorbell. Chan's smiling face greets you when you open the door, looking both insanely handsome and–

“Am I shrinking, or are you growing?”

He's leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his massive chest, which is somewhat concealed by the oversized sweater he's wearing. You want to scold him for such a light outer layer in the bitter late autumn, but your words get stuck in your throat as you find yourself tilting your head up further than usual to look at him.

And then you give yourself the pleasure of really looking at him.

His hair is its usual wispy, beautiful mess. He cards his fingers through it as he looks at you, smiling as though about to say something, when suddenly his smile drops, his eyebrows furrowed as he stands up straight.

“You're in pain.”

It’s not a question.  He's providing the information to you as fact. You blink in surprise.

“Yes, I am, but how did you–”

"I can–” He cuts himself off, looking uncertain for a moment before shaking his head. "I just know you, babygirl. You're not putting much weight on your left leg, anyway."

Hm. He caught you there.

“How bad is it?”

You finish shrugging on your jacket. “Um, maybe six out of ten. But I took medicine, I should be– Are you sweating?”

It's a stupid question, because he is, and you don't need a verbal response to confirm it. Sweat is beating at his temples and dampening his hair. Something flickers across his face, but then his expression is back to normal again. 

You watch him flip through a million different responses in his mind, but before he settles on one, he spots your bags next to the door and goes to grab them, slinging your backpack over his shoulder with profound ease. He's moving so fast and he's so jittery that you barely get a second to process everything.

“Chan,” you finally say when he whizzes past you again to put your remote back in the organizer. He pauses, back stiffening like he's a little kid again about to be scolded. He turns to you slowly. “Are you okay?”

You watch him take a deep, shuddering breath, his entire body seeming to expand and contract. The unnatural stiffness in his body seems like he's forcing himself to stay still, and you see his finger drumming patterns on his thigh.

You repeat his name, softer this time. “What's wrong?”

He shakes his head a bit too fast. “No, nothing, I–” He runs his fingers through his hair, pausing to grip the roots to ground himself to this moment. It works for a second. “I'm… okay. I can explain everything later babygirl, I just… I really just want to focus on spending time with you.”

There's a raw edge to his voice that makes your chest tighten. You study his face, taking in the exhaustion, the sheen from sweat, the way his eyes won't meet yours. Every instinct screams that something is wrong, but…

“Okay,” you relent with a sigh. It should be embarrassing how easily you fold for him. It should maybe even be studied. “But you promise that you'll explain?”

He deflates, eyes brightening with relief. “I promise. Chris-Cross my heart.” He punctuates his sentence by putting his hand over his chest.

You can't help the smile that takes over your face at that– the reference to the silly rhyme you'd made up when you were kids based on his English name. A bit of the anxiety in your chest loosens. “Now let's go before the traffic gets unbearable.”

You grab your keys and headphones, giving your apartment one last glance over before following Chan out of the door. By the time you finish locking up, he's already halfway to the elevator, his abnormally long legs quickening his pace. As you try to catch up with him, you can't help but notice his stature– how his shoulders seem broad under his sweater, how he just seems… more.

The elevator ride to the parking garage under your apartment building is quiet, but not uncomfortably. Chan is humming something under his breath, his increasingly restless fingers tapping out the rhythm on his leg. Despite all of it, you feel relaxed. No matter what's going on, this is still your Chan, your person. 

He tosses your bags into his trunk with an ease that perks your entire body to attention. When you go to pull open the passenger door, he beats you to it, adding a dramatic flourish as he holds it open for you.

Your heart almost jumps out of your chest.

In the passenger's seat is a small pink box with a label from your favorite bakery, alongside a nice variety of drinks in the cupholder. He's got a pair of fluffy slippers on the mat by your feet, too, and you can see on the dashboard he's turned the seat warmers on.

“Chan,” you breathe. Your heart is doing strange things in your chest, and you're either feeling extremely touched or about to pass out. “You didn't have to–”

“I wanted to.” You turn to look at him, and he's looking away, scratching the hair at the base of his neck. “Felt like an ass, you know, being so distant and weird. Needed to make it up to you.”

It's entirely unfair that he can just… say those things to you. He's your best friend, so of course he's affectionate– that's just how he's been since you met in third grade. What started with bringing extra GoGurts and tying your shoes when you broke your wrist has just now turned into spoiling you with cabin vacations and things you mention offhandedly that you like. 

No biggie.

He nudges you in the car playfully, making some lighthearted joke about him getting too soft on you. You can barely hear him over the thrumming of your heartbeat in your ears, choosing instead to follow his movements in the rear view mirror. You watch as he pauses by the trunk, carding a hand through his hair and taking a big breath, before eventually making his way over to the driver's seat. He tosses his phone to you, effectively putting you on music duty, and then you're on the road in a matter of minutes.

Time with Chan is always easy. You talk about any and everything for the first hour of the drive, including his job, your lack thereof, and your appointment, and he listens to every detail carefully. 

“So, they think it's a collagen issue?”

You nod, wiggling your feet in your new slippers as you shift your position. “They aren't entirely sure, but they're looking at collagen based connective tissue disorders, like Ehlers Danlos and Lupus. They think that could explain the other issues too.”

He looks contemplative as he peers around you to the mirror by your door, trying to merge into the next lane. “Are you scared?”

You shrug, body moving with the car. “Its.. complicated. On the one hand, it would be scary to receive a life changing diagnosis. On the other hand–”

“You're just happy to have answers.”

You nod again, taking a sip of the caramel latte he bought for you and wincing as you shift again. Long drives are always hard, but paired with the changes in the pressure as the two of you drive further into the mountains, your joints feel like they might disintegrate.

“Scale of one to ten?”

You blink. Chan hadn't taken his eyes off the road, so how could he have seen you shifting? You open your mouth, prepared to lie, but he glances at you with a single eyebrow raised. You sigh.

“Maybe a six,” you breathe.

“So the Ibuprofen didn't help?”

“It did, it's just wearing off.”

You put the latte back in the cup holder, using your hands to bear your weight as you try to find a comfy position to sit in. 

“What do you need, babygirl?”

You fight the shiver his voice sends down your spine. “Nothing. Well– I don't know. Maybe a nap? Is that okay?”

“‘Course it is. Here.”

With sinfully dexterous fingers, he reaches across your lap to recline your seat for you. You let him, body going still as his strong forearm helps ease you back with the chair. When you're comfortable, he reaches behind him to the floor of the backseat, fishing around until he produces–

“Is that your couch blanket?”

His answering grin is soft. “The one you've been threatening to steal? Yeah. Maybe.”

He drapes it over you skillfully, with you having to do very minimal adjusting. The familiar, homey smell of his apartment– warmth and something else very distinctly Chan – floods your senses and wraps you in the warmest hug. It feels like coming home.

You adjust yourself again, sleep wanting to come now that you're cozy, but the dull ache in your legs doesn't want to let go. Without warning, Chan's free hand slips under the blanket and finds the knee of the leg that hurts with amazing accuracy. His hand feels blazing hot through the fabric of your sweats as he rubs his thumb in soothing circles. 

“This okay, yeah?” he asks, his low voice a soothing sound to your ears. Words are caught in your throat, so you can only nod, but you don't miss how the pain starts to dissolve by his touch. You also try very hard not to think about how big his hand is on your knee.

“Get some rest, babygirl. I got you.”

The combination of his gentle touch, the music, and the smell of his blanket is making your eyelids heavy. As you finally drift off, a contented smile pulls at your mouth because no matter what, this is where you're meant to be. 

This is home.

Chan wakes you up about half an hour before you're expected to arrive. However, paired with delays, the pitch blackness of the mountains, and the general unrestrainedness of Murphy's Law, you were only now getting to the cabin at just past 1am. 

The cabin is beautiful, as always. It's nestled amidst a thick grove of evergreen trees, and its tall, warm wood exterior seems inviting even at the ungodly hour you two arrive. As he swings the car onto the gravel driveway, the headlights illuminate it, like it’s a secret just for the two of you.

“Cabin sweet cabin,” he murmurs as he kills the engine. He picks his phone up from the cup holder and gives it a few flicks, then suddenly the porch lights come on. You give a little stretch in your seat, your joints feeling pleasantly loose and mostly pain free– the nap worked wonders. 

The two of you pile out of the car, the fresh mountain air filling your nostrils. It smells like pine needles and freshwater, with an undercurrent of something wild and electric, like the air before a storm.

“Is it supposed to rain?”

Chan barely hears you, his antsyness now back full force. He's got both of your backpacks and his duffle bag slung over his shoulders, and he goes to grab your suitcase, but you appear by his side and pull it away from him. He blinks down at you, seeming surprised to see you there.

You tilt your head to the side. He still looks sweaty, and from where you're standing, it still seems like he's radiating an insane amount of heat. His breaths are labored, and you find yourself reaching over to rub your thumb over his hand. However, once your hands connect, he jumps and pulls away like you've shocked him.

At your hurt face, he tries to backtrack. “Static,” he supplies weakly. You say nothing, and the tips of his ears turn bright red. “Come on, let's get you out of the cold.”

You try not to jump to conclusions. At the end of the day, if something is really bothering him, if something is really wrong, Chan will tell you. He has always been the brooding type, but there is but so long he can keep things from you.

Still, no matter how much you try to take things at his pace, you keep seeing his face at the clinic: the deep bags under his eyes, the messy hair. The last time you looked into those eyes and saw that same pain, you were in a hospital bed hooked up to more monitors than you could count.

Chan had been brooding then too, refusing to leave your side, asking the doctors all the right questions, keeping your parents up to date when they had to go back home. You remember one night in particular, when you were chalk full of pain meds and falling asleep under the whirr of an oxygen mask, he'd stood at your bedside and rubbed his thumb over your forehead to soothe you. You couldn't speak, too exhausted and in pain to move in any capacity, but you didn't need to. He spoke to you the entire time about everything and nothing, switching his  murmuring to quiet comforts when you started to cry. Just before sleep took you under, you met his eyes– his exhausted, red rimmed eyes– and he gave you the softest, most tender look.

“We'll get through it, babygirl,” he had murmured. “You're gonna be okay. You'll come home.”

You did come home, of course, but that's when things became different. Chan was distant, constantly canceling plans, avoiding you.

You shake the memory from your head as you watch him fiddle with his keys in the lock. This weekend was meant to be about the two of you having fun. You could worry about everything else later.

Chan flicks on the overhead light in the living room area and the room floods with warmth. Everything looks just as familiar and homey as you recall.

Before you can take a good breath, he's got your bags and suitcase and is bounding up the stairs with them like they weigh nothing. You choose to busy yourself with getting comfortable, peeling off your coat and hanging it on the nearby hook.

You're tugging your hair back into a ponytail when he comes back down, and when you look up and spot him the scrunchie flies across the room.

He's taken off his hoodie, leaving him in a fitted white tee that does nothing to hide just how different his body looks. It's no secret that Chan works out, but he fills out this shirt like it was painted on him. You quickly pull your spare scrunchie from the other wrist to tie up your hair, trying not to dwell.

"Do you want me to put these in the kitchen?" you call out, holding up the bag of road trip leftovers.

"Yeah, just–" his voice cracks, and he clears his throat. "Just throw them on the counter. I'll organize everything later."

You pad into the kitchen, bare feet silent on the wooden floors. Everything is exactly as you remember it – the mismatched mugs in the cabinet, the worn wooden spoons in the ceramic holder, the string lights Chan installed last summer that give everything a soft glow. If you close your eyes, you could almost pretend nothing has changed.

Almost.

You find, unsurprisingly, that the cabinets and fridge are stocked full. Chan's parents likely came out to pack up some groceries when he told them you'd be coming. You find yourself leaning against an open cabinet, staring into space, your mind a million miles away.

"You okay, babygirl?”

You jump slightly – you hadn't heard him come up behind you. He's standing in the doorway of the kitchen, running his hands through his hair again, that restless energy still evident in every movement.

"Yeah, just..." you gesture vaguely around you. "Memories, you know?"

His expression softens, and for a moment he looks exactly like your Chan again. "Yeah, I know."

The moment stretches between you, comfortable and familiar, until your stomach decides to break it with an embarrassingly loud growl. Chan's laugh is startled but genuine.

"I don't remember that.” He jokes. “Hungry?"

You feel your cheeks heat. "Yeah, I think so.”

He starts rolling his sleeves up. “I could probably make some eggs and toast, if–.”

“It's one in the morning,” you scold him gently. “Nobody is cooking.”

He gives you a pout, which is comical considering his current stature, but you still feel a tug in your chest. “But–”

You shake your head, turning away from him so you don't relent. “No buts. We have tons of snacks. Help me find something.”

At your request, the two of you rummage through the drawers and cupboards. Everything either requires too much effort or won't agree with your stomach at this ridiculous hour. You're ready to call it quits and sleep for dinner when a lightbulb goes off in your head.

“Oh, can I have one of your protein bars? You always buy the good kind.”

His smile is soft, dimples catching the light in a way that makes his entire face seem like a dream. “Of course. They're in my backpack, next to the couch.”

You slide your way to his bag with an excited pep in your step. Chan, being who he is, always buys the amazingly expensive protein bars that manage not to taste like chalky disappointment. They're surprisingly filling, and you know they'll settle your stomach without causing a stomach ache.

You find his bag quickly in the low light of the room, squatting down to rifle through it. With your hand in the front pocket, you dig around until your fingers find something that feels like the protein bar box. In your hungry haze, you yank it out without thinking.

It is not the protein bar box.

Instead, it's a thick packet of paper. You go to put it back when the letter head of the genetic clinic you visited catches your eye, along with the words “After-Visit Summary”.

Maybe if your heart wasn't thrumming in your ears, you would've heard his panicked footsteps coming after you. But the only thing in your ears is the erratic beating of your heart, one that only gets worse when you turn the packet over and read the small words on the margin:

You were seen today for: Hormonal Changes. The following issues were addressed: Genetic Lycanthrope Syndrome (Werewolf Gene).

You hear your name through the roaring in your ears. It's a soft, tentative sound that cracks around the edges. You turn, slowly, to see Chan almost right behind you, his face drained of all color and his eyes blown wide.

“Chan,” you breathe. You turn a bit more towards him, the packet still gripped in your hand. “What–”

"I can explain," he says quickly, desperately. His hands are shaking. "I was going to tell you, I swear, I just– I needed time to–”

He trails off, looking around the room as though looking for someone to help him.

Genetic Lycanthrope Syndrome.

You came across this condition when you were researching the clinic, as they mentioned that they were the only place in the area that had the facilities to test for it. It was, as the paper put it, the werewolf gene. People with the condition experienced heightened senses of smell, increased strength, sensory sensitivities– they were werewolves, just without the whole full moon transformation thing.

To say the condition was rare was an understatement. Both parents had to be carriers for the trait, and even then it only occurred in 25% of those births.

And Chan happened to be one of them.

Everything clicks into place now. The sudden growth spurt, the feverishly hot skin, how he knows when you're in pain without you saying a word.

“This is why you were at the clinic,” you say softly. It's not a question.

He nods jerkily, still looking like he might bolt at any second. You stand up to take a step toward him and he actually backs away.

“Don't,” he breathes. “I'm… I don't want to hurt you.”

“Hurt me?” You almost laugh. “Chan, you're not going to hurt me. How could you think that?”

“No, you don't understand,” he cards his hands through his hair, pausing to tug on the roots. “I can't… I don't know how to control myself yet. I'm different now, I'm–”

“Still Chan.”

The sound he makes is painful. “You can't say that,” he breathes. His hands drop to his sides again. “You don't know what it's like.”

“So tell me," you urge. You move as though you're about to take another step towards him, and your heart drops at how his entire body flinches. “Chan. Chris. Christopher. Look at me please.”

The use of his full name does something to him, and you watch as he settles, eyes drifting over to you slowly. His gaze is intense, and in the dim light of the living room, you feel akin to a deer staring down a wolf, no pun intended. 

It does not frighten you the way it should.

“Talk to me, please,” you beg. “You're my best friend. I'm here for you, always.”

“I can smell when you're in pain,” he grits out. It's not what you're expecting to hear. He clenches a hand into a fist, then lets it go. “You usually smell sweet, like caramel and linen. But then your scent gets an undercurrent of something harsh, like burnt sugar and metal, and I… I feel like–”

He lets out a shuddering breath, closing his eyes as he cuts himself off. “I can't control my strength. I've broken so much shit around the apartment. Don't wanna touch you. Don't wanna break you.”

“You won't hurt me.” You take the opportunity to get closer, but he must smell the closing distance because his eyes fly open. You're in front of him before he can move. “Do you know why?”

Chan's breaths are ragged and labored. “Why?”

“Because you're still my Chan. Still the guy who's been taking care of me since elementary school. Still the person I trust most in the world."

His breath hitches. "How can you say that? How can you just... accept this?"

You can't help the small laugh that escapes. "Chan, I'm literally at the same genetic clinic getting tested for a collagen disorder. Did you think I wouldn't understand what it's like to have your body change in ways you can't control?"

That seems to catch him off guard. He turns away, a frown tugging at his lips. "That's... that's different.”

“Is it though?” You pretend to be thoughtful. “Last I checked, it's like both of our bodies are changing in ways we don't understand. Like we both have to navigate a new normal.”

"That's exactly why I–" he cuts himself off, running both hands through his hair. "I can't risk hurting you. Not when you're already..."

"Already what?" You challenge, taking one final step. You're close enough now that you have to tilt your head back to look at him properly. "Already broken?”

His face twists up like you've punched him in the stomach. “No! God, no. When you're already going through so much.”

“A lot of what I'm going through is a waiting game, Chan– waiting for test results, waiting for appointments at specialists. You don't have to keep things from me because of that.”

You poke him in his side, trying to lighten the mood. “Besides, this? Finding out you're a werewolf–”

“The correct term is Lycanthropy Syndrome–”

“-- This is the kind of stuff that keeps me grounded. Having other things to think about. Having you around.”

You watch the tension slowly bleed from his shoulders, almost as though he's deflating. There's obviously more he isn't telling you– you can see it in the way his eyes still can't seem to meet yours– but you don't push it. He's already said so much.

“So,” you start. You rock back and forth on your feet. “Can I make werewolf puns now?”

He rolls his eyes. “Absolutely not.”

“Are you pawsitive?”

He groans at that, a smile pulling at his lips despite himself. “You're the worst. I'm gonna leave you here and go home.”

But he's laughing anyway, his usual giggle that makes everything seem like it'll be alright. You beam at him. and your body lights aflame when he smiles back down at you softly. The two of you hold eye contact for a second, and you watch something untraceable flash in his eyes. Before you can even process it, he's looking away again and clearing his throat.

Another silence falls between you, but this one is different. Chan is fidgeting again, his fingers drumming against his thigh in that restless way you've noticed all evening. He's looking everywhere but at you, and you can practically see the wheels turning in his head.

"What is it?" you ask softly.

He opens his mouth once. Twice. Three times– words seem to be failing him again. You raise an eyebrow and he sighs, a sheepish smile on his big stupidly handsome face.

"Can we..." he starts, then stops. Starts again. "Would it be okay if we... like we used to..."

You wait patiently as he struggles with the words. His ears are turning red again.

"Can we share my bed?" he finally gets out in a rush. "Like– like when we were kids? Just for tonight. I just... I haven't been sleeping well since everything started and I… um…”

Your brain short circuits as the request processes.

Share… a bed. With Chan. Taller, wider, more muscular Chan. Chan whose body heat seeps through every layer of clothing. Chan whose one hand can cover your knee easily. 

From the way your body reacts, your knee jerk reaction is to say no. He's already going through enough, and Lord knows what types of degenerate scent you'd be giving off if you spent an entire night with him.

But when you open your mouth to decline, you notice how he's standing, with his shoulders curved inward, trying to make himself smaller. His big brown eyes are pleading, almost desperate, and you think about how scared he was earlier, how convinced he was that you'd reject him once you knew the truth.

Fuck it.

“Of course, Channie.”

The smile on his face is nervous, like he expects you to change your mind any second. “Yeah?”

You nod, ignoring the way your brain tries to supply you with images of everything you want to have happen. "Yeah. Just... let me get changed first?"

He nods quickly, that restless energy back but different now – excited rather than anxious. "Yeah! Yes. Your stuff is in your room, yeah? I'll be in mine when you're ready."

He's bounding up the stairs before you can say anything. You take the moment alone to take a deep breath. You can do this. It's just Chan. Just your best friend.

When you reach your room, you duck into the attached bathroom to change quickly, opting for the full top and bottom PJ set rather than the oversized hoodie you were originally going to wear. You stare at your reflection, willing yourself to calm down and look normal.

Sharing a bed with Chan is not a new concept. When you'd first gotten close in grade school, the two of you tended to hop from house to house, sleeping wherever without a care in the world. The habit continued as you grew up– in college during study sessions, during movie marathons on school breaks, that one time a few months ago when you'd gotten terribly drunk at your friend Jeongin's birthday party. It had never been anything more than two friends seeking each other's comfort.

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror again, face flushed and breathing ragged. You force yourself to calm down– if Chan could smell when you were in pain, he could probably smell the indecency coming off of you in waves. 

Everything is fine.

When you reach the doorway of the master bedroom, Chan is already in bed scrolling on his phone. You watch his nostrils flare for a second, eyes fluttering shut as he puts his phone on the night stand.

The king sized bed looks both too big and too small.

When he opens his eyes, he looks surprised to see you. and you watch red start to tint his neck. “Um. Hey,” he breathes.

You hover in the doorway, suddenly hyperaware of every inch of space between you. "Hey."

Chan shifts, pulling back the covers on what has always been 'your' side of the bed “Um. Do you want... I mean, we usually..." He trails off, looking everywhere but directly at you.

You take the initiative and move towards the bed, sliding down under the covers until they reach just under your chin. Chan shuffles next to you, scooting this way and that, flipping like a hot dog on a stick. You both settle on your back eventually, staring up at the ceiling.

“This is weird,” he says after a few minutes of strained silence.

“Not weird,” you supply. “Just… different.”

“Different…,” he murmurs. “Different because I'm different?”

You almost laugh. “Chan, what? No–”

He's sliding out from under the covers before you can finish. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have– this was dumb to ask.” You ignore the way your heart drops. “I'll go sleep in the other room. Or on the couch. Or–”

You grab at his wrist before he can go anywhere. He doesn't jerk away this time, but his entire body goes rigid. You rub your thumb along the pulse point on his wrist.

“You don't have to leave,” you say slowly. “It’s not weird because you're different. It's weird because we're both over thinking it.”

He lets out a little breath. “We are, aren't we?”

"Yeah." You squeeze his wrist once before letting go. He settles back down into the bed, still looking a bit uncomfortable, but not ready to run anymore. 

You smile at him before holding open the cocoon you made in the blanket. "Come here, you big baby."

"I resent that," he grumbles, but there's a smile tugging at his lips.

It takes some maneuvering to find a comfortable position. Chan is hesitant at first, careful not to crowd you, but eventually you manage to guide him until his head is tucked under your chin, his arm draped carefully over your middle. His body curls around yours despite the size difference, like he's trying to make himself smaller again. When he finally settles, it feels like every part of him is contoured to fit you perfectly.

You ignore the heat in your stomach.

The silence that settles around you is comfortable now, broken only by your breathing beginning to sync up. His body weight is grounding, and the heat he's radiating feels like the world's best heating pad. 

You're just beginning to doze off when Chan makes a low, displeased grunt in the back of his throat. You can feel his eyebrows scrunch together where he's pressed against your collarbone.

“Your hip,” he murmurs.

“Hm?”

He shifts in your hold, maneuvering you until his other hand can slide under your body to wrap around you. “Your hip hurts. Or it's about to start.”

Sleepiness has made you a pliant, barely conscious little thing. You're about to ask how he can tell when his big, warm hand presses against your hip, heat radiating through the fabric until it settles deep into your bones. You can't help but let out a little whimper from the immediate relief it gives you.

Chan makes another sound in his throat, grip increasing on you almost infinitesimally. 

“This good, babygirl?”

“Mmf.”

The warmth and relaxation is muddling your brain. “S'good, Channie.”

He makes a more pleased sound and nuzzles closer. Sleep takes you quickly after that, and all you can think about as you finally succumb is how lucky you are to have him here with you. You'd love to say as much, but you're too tired to open your mouth, so you give him the tiniest of squeezes, hoping he understands.

From the way his arm tightens around you, you think he does.

Things seem less charged in the morning.

You wake up to sunlight glittering through the curtains and the other side of the bed empty. The sheets are still warm, but given what you've come to learn about Chan and his temperature, he could've left the bed anywhere from three seconds to four hours ago.

You stretch a little bit as you try to wake up fully, heading to the other bedroom to freshen up for the day. It seems like an okay day pain-wise. You're at a steady three out of ten everywhere except your hands, but you brush it off. With the way you sleep, your hands take longer to catch up to the lower pain levels in the rest of your body. It's just a matter of time. 

Still, you run them under warm water in the bathroom, hoping to loosen them up.

When you finally emerge, you follow the mouthwatering scent of cooking down the stairs and into the kitchen. After a nonexistent dinner, you're starved, and you could really go for some food right now.

You pause in the archway of the kitchen.

Food is… an understatement.

Chan stands at the stove, spatula in hand and preparing to flip what looks like an omelette. All around him on the counters are various other breakfast foods: scrambled eggs, bacon, pancakes, hashbrowns, fruit–

“When did you have time to make a sourdough starter?”

He startles slightly, turning to face you with a sheepish smile. “Ah… good morning, babygirl. I may have.. gone a bit overboard.”

“A bit?” You slide into a seat at the edge of the kitchen island in the one spot where there's no food. “If you were planning to invite the woodland creatures you could've given me a heads up, I'd be decent.”

The responding huff makes you smile. “I cannot communicate with animals. Weirdo.” Chan grins. He folds the omelette in half and flips it over. “I just… I got hungry.”

You sneak a piece of bacon off of a nearby plate and snort. “‘Hungry’ seems like a gross understatement. Is this a side effect?”

Chan's ears turn pink as he plates the omelette. "Yeah, actually. My metabolism is... different now. Food tastes different too– more intense." He starts moving dishes to the kitchen island, careful not to overcrowd your space. "Everything is more intense, really."

"Like what?"

He hums thoughtfully as he settles into the chair next to you, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off of him. "Smells are the biggest thing. Like, I can smell everything. The coffee brewing, the bacon grease in the air, the rain that's coming later–"

"It's going to rain?"

"Yeah, probably this afternoon." He passes you a fork and a plate you never noticed him constructing. "I can smell it in the air. What’s the word? Petrichor, but... before the rain actually falls? If that makes sense.”

You hum around a fork full of eggs, cracking the fingers on your free hand. “That sounds like it can get miserable. Is everything just… enhanced all the time?”

He takes a bite out of a chunk of toast, making a so-so motion with his hand. “It's enhanced all the time, but the way it is right now, the intensity, that’s only sometimes. Only during–”

He cuts himself off, swallowing his bite of toast with more power than necessary. 

“During the full moon?” You supply.

He nods quickly. “Yeah.”

There's a lull in the conversation that you try not to read into. It doesn't take much effort anyway, because you notice that eating is taking more effort than it was a few minutes ago. Your grip on the fork is weird, and you can't seem to close your fingers all the way around it.

That's fine, you think to yourself. You switch hands. Everything is fine.

You try not to let the revelation sour your mood. Chan mentioned it was going to rain, and while your doctors didn't know why you were in pain, they knew what kinds of things made it worse, and the air pressure changes from rain was one of them. This was just something you had to learn to deal with now.

Resentment for your condition rises in your chest with the little bit you've eaten, and you take a sip of apple juice to swallow it down. It's not fair. People your age were doing things like mountain climbing, running marathons, just living. And here you were, struggling to feed yourself and hold a fork.

It's fine.

A hand on your shoulder pierces through the dense clouds shrouding your mind, and you feel yourself startle a little. Chan is facing you, leaning his impossibly tall torso down to look you right in your eyes. His gaze is intense, gold flecks in his eyes swimming around as he stares.

“What hurts,” he breathes. The sound of his voice is light as a feather, floating through the air before coming to rest gently on your lips. 

“My hands.”

“Scale of one to ten?”

You think about saying your number, but upon remembering how nice and easy conversation was this morning, you decide to lie. “Four.”

The look in Chan’s eyes grows more intense, and you swallow around nothing. He levels you with a very unimpressed look, eyebrows creasing and his plushy, pink lips frowning. He only says two words, but they send a ripple through your body anyway:

“Try again.”

Fuck. You're giving yourself whiplash. Jumping from frustration to stark arousal was an Olympics level move your brain wasn't prepared for. There's a different kind of haze clouding your mind now.

“It's a seven,” you breathe. 

He's up on his feet before you can fully compose yourself, long legs taking him up the stairs and bringing him back down in a matter of seconds. When he sits down again, he's holding your decorative medication pouch and a mini water bottle from your backpack.

You gulp at the way the veins in his arm bulge.

“Which bottle is it?”

You come back to yourself, licking your incredibly dry lips before you respond. It takes a blink or two before you can orient yourself in the present. “Um, red bottle. The tall one.”

He places the bottle and water in front of you in a gentle way that contrasts the energy in the room. You fumble with the child proofing for a second before he plucks the bottle from you, undoing the lid with one hand.

Wow. Fuck.

"Thanks," you mumble, accepting the pills he tips into your palm. His hand moves from your shoulder to the back of your neck as you swallow them, and you try not to shiver at the contact.

“Do you need a nap while the pills work?”

You pout, finally coming back to your good senses. “We're supposed to have a movie marathon today.”

“I didn't realize the TV had a flight to catch?”

You glare at him, albeit thankful for the teasing sarcasm to loosen the tension. “You're not funny.”

Chan's lips pull into a smirk and he gives a little shrug. “I think I am.”

You roll your eyes at him as he stands, coming over to you and easing you out of your seat. He gives a little ‘tsk’ at your faux attitude, but his hands are back on your shoulders, guiding you towards the couch. When you finally do lay down, he's already throwing his signature couch blanket over you, tucking it around you securely.

“Comfy?”

You are, but you've also realized he's tricked you into a nap, so you do the adult thing and mock him before sticking your tongue out at him.

“Wow,” he murmurs. He slides down the couch and onto the floor. “I haven't seen that routine since 4th grade.”

You watch as he adjusts his legs a few times, his head resting against the armrest right by your fingers. It’s unspoken, but you know that he'll stay until he's sure you're asleep. 

"You don't have to sit on the floor," you murmur. "There's plenty of room up here."

He shakes his head. "Nah. I'm good here.”

You watch his side profile for a minute, basking in all of his Chan-ness. He settles in a bit more and lets his eyes flutter closed. When he does, he leans his head back a little more, and you watch the delicate bob of his Adam's apple as he swallows. 

“Chan?” Your mouth is moving before you know it. 

“Hm?”

“Were you scared? When you… got the diagnosis?”

His eyes open at that, and he turns his head so he can look at you. The intensity from earlier is gone, replaced by that familiar warmth that only he has.

There's a beat of silence where all Chan does is stare, almost as if seeing you for the first time. It passes, though, and then he goes back to his previous position, eyes closed again as he speaks. “No,” he says finally. “I wasn't scared. The only thing I thought about was you.”

“Me?”

He nods against the couch. “They kept talking about what it meant and all of that, and all I could think about was how on earth I was going to tell you.”

You reach a hand over and start rubbing at his scalp in the familiar way you've always done. “And yet,” you tease gently. “I had to accidentally find the papers.”

He makes a soft sound in the back of his throat, leaning into your hand. “That wasn't the plan,” he murmurs. “Was supposed to tell you properly.”

You stay quiet, continuing to play with his hair. The quiet domesticity is comforting, and you find your eyes fluttering closed too. 

You move your fingers through his hair in nonsensical patterns and shapes, occasionally letting your nails graze his scalp. His breathing evens out eventually--he's not sleeping, no, just content and peaceful. You're a different story, though, and medication induced drowsiness starts flowing its way through your body.

Your movements grow slower and uncoordinated, hand drifting lower, and lower, until eventually your fingers trail to the nape of his neck. When you drag your nails across the sensitive skin there, Chan makes a sound that shoots straight through you and straight to your core– something between a pleased hum and a growl that vibrates through his entire body.

Both of you freeze. Your heart starts doing gymnastics in your chest while the sound echoes in your ears, making your body grow hot. Beneath you, Chan is rigid, like every muscle has been pulled taut.

The room is entirely still for a second. Then, he clears his throat a little, shifting himself so you have better access. “Sorry,” he murmurs. “Keep going. Feels nice.”

You force your fingers to move again, continuing their exploration and tracing the curls on Chan's head. 

You repeat your mantra in your mind:

Everything is fine.

The moment passes like a summer storm– intense and fleeting– and soon Chan is relaxed again, practically melting under your touch. You're actively fighting sleep now but you're realizing it's a losing battle. Your movements become slower, less deliberate, until your hand is simply resting in his hair.

"Sleep, babygirl," he murmurs, voice thick and honeyed. "I got you.”

So you do.

When you wake up a bit later, you find yourself, sadly, alone.

In place of Chan's thick curls is the cold rectangular slab that is your cell phone. You squint at it sleepily, not remembering bringing it down with you for breakfast or having it on the couch. You flick through the unlock process, and when your phone opens, it's on the notes app.

Hi babygirl. If you're reading this, I went to the store. We don't have any vegetables. I'll try to be quick. - Channie

You wipe sleep from your eyes as you sit up, trying to orient yourself in your surroundings. You hear the steady whooshing of the rain outside and carefully flex all of your joints. You're content to find that you're at a steady three out of ten everywhere.

You settle back into the couch cushions, pulling the blanket around you tighter. It's not scary to be by yourself, especially not in the cabin,  but Chan's presence is definitely missed. You decide to fill the silence with television, something low stakes and stupid that you can listen to while you scroll on your phone.

However, the microscopic roku remote has decided to go missing, and after digging through the couch cushions twice, you sit back with a huff. You suppose your phone will do for now.

You open YouTube with the intent to watch one of your favorite Let's Play videos, but as you scroll through your homepage, something catches your eye. The title makes you pause:

Q&A: Genetic Lycanthropy Syndrome (aka The Werewolf Gene)

The algorithm strikes again, you suppose.

The video was posted a little over a month ago and has a substantial amount of views and comments. The creator themselves has well over 100k subscribers. It looks perfectly legit. Before you can overcomplicate it and talk yourself out of it, you press play.

“Hi everyone!” The guy on the video has a soft, smiling face, accented by round, thin-rimmed glasses. “Welcome or welcome back to my channel. If you're new here, I'm Seungmin, and I have GLS, which stands for Genetic Lycanthropy Syndrome. Or, to put it simply, I have the werewolf gene.”

You are immediately invested.

“I set up a question box on Instagram a couple days ago, and you guys really went to town.” Seungmin chuckles. “So I'll answer a few of those in this video.”

The first few questions are simple enough– what made him suspect he had it, the diagnostic process, how his family reacted. He answers every question thoughtfully and thoroughly in a way that makes you learn more than you thought you needed to.

You're writing down the fact that people with GLS tend to need more red meat than dark meat in their diet when he starts reading out the next question. 

“@jutdae asks, ‘how does the enhanced sense thing not drive you crazy?’” Seungmin lets out a little laugh. “So, the sense thing is kind of tricky for non-GLS people to understand. On a regular day, it might be enhanced, but maybe only 50% better than most people. The real issue is when rut or heat cycles start.”

You drop your phone, cursing when it slips right into the couch cushions.

“During a rut–” Seungmin's muffled voice continues as you fish around for your phone. “-- it's probably around 150% better. And our body temperature will skyrocket, like a constant fever type. The extra sensory input can cause a lot of restless energy too, so we're always feeling like we want to crawl out of our skin. Thankfully ruts, or heats for AFAB people, only happen once every three months, for about a week.”

You finally find your phone, heart pounding as you fumble to hold it still. The boy on your screen adjusts his glasses before continuing, entirely unaware how he's just flipped your life on its head.

“Well, that's for people who've presented for a while. When you first present with symptoms, you can get your rut every month. And that's… an entirely different type of intense. I surely don't miss that.”

Your brain might be oozing out of your ears.

You don't need to Google what a rut cycle is. You already know. It's the one aspect of GLS everyone is familiar with.

You scan through the events of the last 36 hours with unfathomable speed. It's all there. Every single symptom mentioned in this video. 

Extremely heightened senses. Restless energy. Fever-hot skin. 

Chan.

Chan hasn't been able to sit still. Chan's skin is hot to the touch. Chan keeps telling you when your pain is about to start because he can smell it. Chan brought you to an isolated cabin in the mountains.

Chan is in rut. Chan's diagnosis was only finalized less than a week ago. Ergo, this is his first rut.

The sound of a car door slamming makes you jump so hard that your phone flies away from the couch and skitters onto the floor.

Shit.

You scramble to grab it, swiping out of the video before Seungmin finishes answering what you're certain are other life changing questions. You can't hear anything he's saying, laser focused on the sound of Chan's impending footsteps and the sound of rustling grocery bags.

“Babygirl,” Chan's voice vibrates from the entryway. “I'm back. You awake?”

“Yeah,” you call, forcing yourself to sound steady. You clear your throat. “Yes, I'm up.”

You hear him put the bags down and toe off his sneakers, socked feet padding into the room where you are, undoubtedly, staring like a ghost came through the door and robbed you of your possessions. You fight to fix your expression into something normal, but all of that goes out the window when he steps into the threshold.

He's soaked. The rain has soaked through his shirt, making it cling to his chest and highlight every cut of his muscle. His curls are wild, some of them plastered to his forehead while others seem to be competing for the best pose. There's water dripping down his neck an–

You find a spot on the wall to look at instead. 

“Sorry I took so long.” He brushes his hair off of his face. “The store closest was closed, had to run way into town.”

“It's fine,” you squeak. He looks at you, eyebrows furred. “I was fine, just watched some YouTube. I wasn't up for long.”

He tilts his head, studying you with his nearly impossibly dark eyes. His lips push up, almost like he's pouting, but you watch as confusion takes over his gaze. He squints, and you burrow yourself further into the couch. If his smell is heightened, then he probably–

“You okay?”

You nod too enthusiastically. “Yes, of course. Why?”

He opens his mouth to say something, moves his body as though he'll take a step towards you, but he stops. You hold eye contact for a second, feeling small and exposed among his gaze. But then he nods almost imperceptibly, turning to grab his wet sweater from the entrance. 

“I'm gonna get changed and make us some lunch. Sandwiches?”

You nod.

“Good. Find us something to watch, yeah?”

As soon as he's gone up the stairs, you collapse back onto the couch, pressing your hands against your burning cheeks.

Okay. Okay.

You're probably– definitely – making this weird. Maybe you've read too many werewolf romance novels. Chan is going through something a lot more tangible than turning into a wolf and scampering off into the moonlight, and here you are, being a degenerate as usual. He brought you here because you're his best friend. Because he needs support.

The rut thing… is just a coincidence. Or maybe not even a big deal, or something he wants you to worry about. Yes. That's it. 

Distantly, you hear the shower turn on, and everything from your neck to the crown of your head lights aflame.

The remote chooses that moment to reappear, launching itself from the couch blanket and onto the floor. You snatch it up quickly, flicking on the TV and navigating to Netflix. You need something light. Something stupid. Something to fizzle out the charged energy in the atmosphere.

He'll handle himself… however that may be. You repeat this to yourself as you scroll through the comedy section, eyes blurring at the words in front of you. It's none of your business, anyway. You have one job right now, and that's finding something to watch.

You settle on a cooking show when you hear him coming down the stairs again. You focus on the TV, your mantra echoing around your skull as though you have no brain.

Everything is fine. You're fine. He's fine. 

“Worst Cooks in America?”

You nearly jump out of your skin. He's standing behind the couch, now wearing dry clothes– a zip up sweatshirt and loose sweats. You notice, entirely by accident, that there's no shirt under the sweater. Just plain, exposed skin.

Great. 

You hum out a noncommittal answer, just as he turns and heads to the kitchen, mentioning as he goes that he's using roast beef.  You listen to the sound of the fridge opening and the hum of the toaster as he plugs it in, no doubt solely to put your bread to toast, the same way you've eaten a sandwich since you were eight years old.

You can do this. You can act normal. You're an adult, and you have been for a few years. Things don’t have to be weird just because you now know that your best friend is a delicate, walking bundle of hormones. Chan clearly trusts you enough to have you here, and you're not going to mess that up by being a disaster about it.

You hear him humming in the kitchen, puttering about through the cabinets, the clink of plates on the counter. It's so normal, so Chan, that it almost makes you forget about everything else.

You shake your head, hoping to physically dislodge the memories of the noise he made when you were scratching his neck– the deep, rumbling groan that ran through your sleep-riddled body until stopping to wake you up where you're most sensitive. It was just a noise, you make noises all the time.

When he appears in the doorway with the two plates, all smiles and soft around the edges, you take a deep breath before returning the smile. 

You can do this. You can sit down next to Chan and watch the show and be normal. Everything is fine.

Probably.

… Maybe.

Everything is not fine.

The realization comes later in the night when the darkness from the storm bleeds into the darkness of late evening. It's nearing 10pm, and you and Chan are still seated on the couch together, now on opposing sides, still watching the same cooking show.

Or pretending to.

Chan seemed to be getting worse as the evening progressed. When he first came in from outside, he seemed calmer, less tense, but now he was sitting rigid, wound up like a toy no one would release. He was sweating an almost ridiculous amount, and the zip from his hoodie was pulled down to the middle of his stomach, exposing all the skin underneath.

His breaths were coming in short pants now. He had a steady grip on the fabric of his sweats, and you were almost certain that he'd tear a hole in them with the way he was grabbing them.

You weren't sure what to do.

You had tried nudging him with your foot gently a while ago, but when your skin made contact, he made another low sound in his throat that shot right up your leg and into your core. You pulled your foot away quickly, apologizing, making sure to press your knees together so the scent of arousal wouldn't reach him. 

And that was before he had started panting like… well, a dog. Now you weren't sure you'd be able to reach him through the fog of his own mind even if you screamed right in his face.

You're about to try saying something, anything as the episode that was playing ends, but he shoots up off the couch before you can think of words to say. He's pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes, visibly shaking with the effort of breathing normally.

“Chan,” you start.

He holds up a hand. “I'm– I'm okay,” he breathes. 

He's not. 

“The rain, I think,” he grits out. “Too loud. Too much. You're okay, though?”

Of course Chan would find the time to check on you while going through his own crisis. You sit up a little on the couch, staring at him even though he has his eyes covered. The words are coming out of your mouth before you can even think about what you're saying: “Do I smell okay?”

He grunts. You suddenly understand why cavepeople had so many kids. 

“Smell fine,” he breathes. He slides his hands down his face, fixing his gaze away from you. “You do, I mean. You smell good.”

It dawns on you then that maybe the newly awakened wolf-like part of his consciousness is reacting to your smell because you're a girl, and he's in a rut. Maybe you should leave the room, give him some space?

You're trying to find a way to ask if that's what he needs without giving away what you know, but he fiddles with the zipper of his hoodie again, wanting to tug it down some more. He stops, takes a deep breath, and then drops his hand.

“I think I need a second,” he says. His hands are twitching at his side. “Need my room. Need the quiet, yeah?”

You nod. That's fine. It's for the best anyway, right?  “That's okay. You can come back when you're ready.”

He nods, still not looking at you. There's a moment where he seems to hesitate, but whatever internal war he's having ends quickly, and he basically runs up the stairs. Just before you hear his door close, you hear the sound of his hoodie zipping down all the way.

Heat floods your face as you turn back to the show.

After a while of still failing to really pay attention, you pull your phone out from under the blanket. Despite the pure, unfiltered desire thrumming through your veins, you still want to help Chan. It's bothering you how bothered he is, how helpless he seems. There has to be something you can do for him.

You type, How to help a werewolf in a rut into your search bar, and after realizing very quickly that that's actually the title of an erotica series, you change your search to something more medical sounding.

It takes trial and error, but GLS and Rut Cycles Help seems to give you the best results.

You find a forum on a website dedicated to rare genetic disorders. It’s the one link that seems to have real information, ironically nestled between a fanfiction website and Twitter. 

You stop on a thread that catches your attention:

Non-GLS Roommate Here: Any way I can help with heats?

Not in that way, they write. But my roommate just presented with this disorder and she's absolutely miserable, and I feel so bad. I'm not trying to fuck her, but is there anything I can do to help?? Meds? Chocolate?? Leaving her alone??

There are only a handful of responses, mostly people lol-ing about how non-lycanthropes always think a heat cycle is like a period. One answer sticks out to you:

if it's her first heat, she's probably running a pretty high temp. make her some cold drinks to bring the temperature down and the hormones may follow. that used to work for me. ideally, try to convince her to take a cold shower, but her instincts might be telling her not to. it's a delicate game lol. don't press the shower thing if you don't want her to bite. like, literally. AFAB lycanthropes have a thing for biting idk

It makes sense now why Chan looked better when he came in from the rain. It was, essentially, the cold shower that he needed. You wonder briefly if you could convince him to go back out, but you decide against it. It's dark now, and you don't need him getting hurt.

So, instead, you peel yourself away from the couch and head into the kitchen. There's tons of juice cartons already in the fridge, but you bypass them, instead grabbing the bag of lemons and the carton of blueberries. 

The first time you made lemonade for Chan, the two of you were in fifth grade. You wanted to save money for the new and extremely expensive ride-on jeep that you saw in the store, and the only thing you could think to do was sell lemonade. You forced Chan (who had no interest in the car but wanted to help anyway) to sit down and taste batch after batch of your lemonade.

After he threatened to tell your parents you were trying to poison him, you made one last batch of the lemonade, and on a whim, dumped some blueberry syrup into it. He grumbled as he took the cup, but he couldn't hide his satisfied smile.

“That's the one,” he grinned. 

You never did save the money for the car, but you kept the lemonade recipe anyway. There was nothing your blueberry lemonade couldn't fix.

And you were prepared to add rut fevers to that list.

You dump a ton of ice in Chan's reusable water bottle before pouring the lemonade over it, putting the top on and swirling it around. You take a sip first, nodding in contentment when it nearly freezes the back of your throat.

With your phone in your back pocket and the lemonade in hand, you make your way up the stairs, pausing in front of Chan's bedroom door. A feeling of nervousness washes over you, but you beat it down with a stick. You're just delivering some lemonade. You'll be fine.

“Channie,” your voice is tentative as you knock. “You okay? I brought you a surprise.”

You listen carefully. You can't hear anything on the other side of the door. You don't wanna bang or yell, knowing his ears are probably sensitive already. You knock gently again, really straining your ears to hear.

He must be asleep, you think. You'll just leave the cup on the nightstand for him to find when he wakes up. You turn the doorknob and push open the door and–

Subsequently drop the cup on the floor.

Chan is not asleep.

Chan is very much awake.

He can't see you, no, because his eyes are closed and his head is tipped back against the headboard of his bed. His face and ears are red, and his lips are extra plump. You wonder why until he bites down on his bottom lip, hard.

You let your eyes trail down. He's touching himself.

Oh.

One of his hands is wrapped around his cock, pumping furiously like it's just not enough. The other hand is white knuckling the pillow you slept on last night, bringing it up to his face so he can no doubt inhale whatever leftover scent is on it. 

He has no idea that you're in the room. The pillow is already carrying your scent, so there's no intrusion to his senses. You should look away. You should go, you should…

You can't look away.

His hips are thrusting upwards to meet his hand now, his entire body writhing on the bed like he's trying to find the perfect spot. With his sweater open, you can see the contraction of his ab muscles as he moves, all the hard contours of his body chasing his pleasure. You watch as he twists his wrist, thumb sliding across the slit of his cock and smearing precum down the shaft. 

You hear him make a sound, almost like he's grunting, and then he's mumbling something under his breath. It's low, too low for you to really hear it, but when he speaks again, you definitely understand.

"Babygirl," he groans. He squeezes his cock at the base before stroking it again. "F-fuck, babygirl."

It's then that you squeak, slamming a hand over your mouth almost immediately. His eyes fly open and he shoots up, face panicked, but he doesn't stop moving his hand.

"I'm-- I'm sorry," you manage. "I came to-- I just-- Oh my God."

Chan's eyes are wild as he looks at you. His chest is heaving and his curls are sticking up all over the place. He looks pained and conflicted, likely warring within himself about whether he should stop or not. From the way his ears turn a deep shade of red, you can tell he thinks that he should.

He doesn't, though. He's still jacking himself off, faster and faster, even as he gives you a devastatingly desperate look.

"Fuck," he grunts. "I'm sorry. I can't-- you just smell so fucking good and I–” He pants, looking at you with eyes that can barely stay open. “I can't stop. Babygirl, make me stop."

Your brain is malfunctioning, but the part of it that can still process information has taken notice of what he's saying. You were right earlier. It's your smell. Your smell is driving him crazy because you're a fertile, childbearing aged female. It's not poorly contained last or a bad decision on his part.

It's biology. It's what that primal part of his brain needs.

Your body goes hot as you think of your next words.

"You..." you swallow around nothing. You're wearing socks, but the cold from the floor seems to seep into your feet. "You don't– um. Do you… need help?”

His pupils blow.

"I don't… I don't want to hurt you," he whines, chest heaving as his fist pumps faster. "You shouldn't."

"But I want to help," you breathe. You take a step closer to the bed, legs shaking from the sheer intensity of how fast your arousal hits. "What if I want to help?"

He stops then, staring at you with the same intensity he had last night. You feel stripped, exposed, but you don't feel unsafe.

You take another step closer.

"Chan," you whisper. You're at the foot of the bed now. "What if I want to?"

He makes a desperate noise in the back of his throat.

"I won't… touch you if you don't want me to." You take another step to the side of the bed, feeling somewhat bold under his gaze. "But I'll... I'll let you touch me, if you need. Whatever you want. Just... just tell me what to do."

You're only a couple steps away now. Chan is practically shaking with the effort it takes not to move, to wait for your permission. It's then that you realize he's waiting for you to make the first move, and all of the power shifts to you.

You're standing right next to him now, the two of you locked in an intensely heated gaze. He reaches for you silently with the hand not fisted around his cock, moving slowly like you'll dissolve if he's too eager. When you nod, his hand slides down the length of your arm, fingers interlacing.

Then–

"Please," he whispers. His voice cracks on the lone syllable. "Please, babygirl. I need you.”

He brings the hand he's holding over to his already throbbing cock, dragging your fingertips over the sensitive skin on his tip. His head rolls back again and his hips buck up. You try not to shiver.

"I just... I just need this," he breathes. "Please. I won't touch you, I'll be good."

Maybe it's the desperation in his voice. Maybe it's the way his eyes look so innocent, absolutely contrasting what he's begging you to do. Whatever it is, you let your tongue dart out to wet your lips, throat feeling incredibly dry as you stare down at him.

You wrap your fingers around his cock tentatively, not missing the way his body seems to come alive at your touch, and start moving up and down. He's already so hard, his entire shaft coated in his precum so you can slide up and down with ease. The sounds he's making are going straight to your core, and you can feel the way your underwear is sticking to you.

"Tight," he grunts. "Tighter, please."

You tighten your grip, speeding up a little bit. You feel him thrusting upwards to meet your hand, his hand squeezing yours like he needs the support to ground himself. You let your thumb brush over his tip, using his precum as lube to give him even more friction.

He cries out, back arching. "Yes," he chokes out. "Fuck, babygirl, do that again.”

You do, swiping your thumb across the slit and spreading more precum over him. It makes everything slicker and wetter, and the way you're able to move faster now has him moaning nonsensical little things.

His hips are bucking up harder now, and you watch as his abs tense and release, the hand not holding yours going up to tug on his hair. Your body feels like a loaded stick of dynamite, and you're so careful to keep your hips still, knowing how badly you want friction.

"M’close," he breathes. "Fuck, babygirl. You feel so good."

You pump faster, giving him the extra tightness and friction that he needs. You watch as the hand in his hair drops to his stomach, nails digging into his abs.

You wonder how long he was in here like this, pained and desperate. You try not to think about him moaning your name in the empty room, fucking up into his fist as he thinks about you, chasing your scent on his pillow.

Just because of the rut, your brain supplies. Because it would be absurd to think otherwise.

You glance up at his face. His eyes are screwed shut, lips parted as he pants and grunts and makes other sounds in the air. The look on his face is enough to make you clench around nothing. You've only been hot and bothered for the last 5 minutes and you already feel desperate to cum, so you can't imagine what he's going through.

You let your other hand reach up to cup his face.

"Chan," you murmur. "Look at me.”

He opens his eyes slowly, pupils completely blown as he meets your gaze. You see sweat sliding down the side of his face, and you wonder if it's from his fever or his pleasure.

"You're okay, babyboy," you whisper. His cock jumps in your hand at that. "You can cum, you know. You don't have to hold back."

"Wanna--wanna be good," he grunts. You feel him start to thrust faster. "Don't wanna hurt you."

"You're doing so good, Channie. You're not hurting me."

The two of you stare at each other for a moment before you drop your hand from his cheek and slide it down the column of his throat, letting your nails scratch across his skin. His reaction is immediate, body spasming as he groans.

"Shit," he cries. "Yes, right– right there, Oh my God."

"Yeah?" You scrape your nails across the base of his throat again, making sure to be a bit rougher this time.

He nods quickly, the grip on your hand tightening. You take your other hand off of him, drinking up the sound of his whine before you slide it underneath his hoodie, feeling his chest up. You scrape your nails over his pecs, making him jolt a little.

"C'mon, Channie," you coo. "You're okay. I want you to cum for me."

He lets out a strangled sound, hips bucking up into your fist even faster now. His head falls back again and you see the muscles in his neck strain.

"Please," he chokes out. "I need-- I need--"

You slide your hand from his chest back up to his neck, finding the spot from earlier that made him make that deliciously memorable noise. When you drag your nails across it, his hips stutter in their rhythm, and that's the only warning you have before his entire body is convulsing with pleasure.

"Oh, fuck," he grunts. "Babygirl, fuck–”

His cock pulses in your hand as he cums, releasing all over himself and your fingers. You stroke him through it, gently moving your hand up and down until he's spent.

Then, there's silence.

You're not sure what you expect. Maybe for him to turn over and go to sleep, or for him to act bashful and apologetic, letting you know it won't happen again.

You certainly aren't expecting for him to grip your hips and lift you up onto the bed. Or for him to gently push you down on your back. Or for the desperation in his face to be replaced with something harder, something more in control and dominating as he says, “Please let me eat your pussy, babygirl.”

You almost choke.

You feel like you should protest. Tell him he doesn't have to, that this is already more than you thought you would ever get. But then he's sliding his hands up under your shirt, and the only thing your mouth can form is a moan.

He's never seen you naked, always a respectable gentleman, but there's no hesitation or uncertainty in the way his hands move around your body. He's not tentative and gentle like you expected; he's touching and pinching and running his nails along your skin like he's done this before, like he knows all your spots. He reaches your chest, where you have no bra, and rubs his thumb across your already hardened nipple. Your back arches and your legs fall open for him with a groan, letting him slot himself in the now empty spot.

He pulls his hand away, moving up to your face and cupping your jaw so you can look at him. He's looking down at you with dark eyes.

"Please?”

He's asking, you know, but there's nothing gentle in the way he's looking at you. You nod as best as you can, and he brings his hand down from your jaw to your chin, fingers sliding over your lips. You feel him nudge his thumb against your bottom lip, and you take the hint.

You open your mouth for him, letting him slide his thumb inside and rub it across your tongue. He's looking down at you intensely as you swirl your tongue around his finger, and when you suck on it a little, he lets out a grunt.

"Fuck," he breathes. He pulls his thumb away, watching as a string of saliva connects it to your lips. "You're gonna let me make you feel good, yeah?”

You nod again, but he gives a little humorless chuckle, head tilting at you.

"Use your words babygirl."

"Yes." Your voice is quiet. "Yes, I want you to.”

He stares at you for another moment. You watch his eyes dart across your face, your body, before settling on your lips again. He leans down then, hovering just above you as he licks his own lips.

"Gonna kiss you now," he murmurs. "That okay?"

You fear you look stupid, the way you're just staring up at him, jaw slacked and eyes going in and out of focus. You nod anyway, trying to act normal.

Or as normal as you can, under the circumstances.

He doesn't waste any more time after that. He leans down the rest of the way, pressing his lips against yours. It's slow at first, a sweet little thing that makes you feel warm and safe. You sigh into it, eyes fluttering closed.

But then he licks a stripe across your bottom lip, and you let out a pathetic little whimper, lips falling open just enough for him to slot his tongue in your mouth. He kisses you like he needs it to breathe. It's desperate, burning, hot and filthy. He's licking into your mouth, his teeth nipping at your lips. You try to press your thighs together again, but his strong, muscular slab of body is between them, forcing them open.

His hands slide down your sides and settle on your hips. Your shorts do nothing as a barrier, and you feel every modicum of heat in his hands. He slips those warm hands into the waistband of both your shorts and panties, sliding them down your body antagonizingly slowly.

He sits back on his knees then, pulling them both all the way off before tossing them to the side. Then he leans forward again, pressing wet kisses to the skin right below your belly button.

"Chan," you breathe.

"S'okay baby," he mumbles against your skin. You feel a new wave of wetness flow through you. How could your usual nickname be even hotter with half of it missing?

Then he's moving his mouth down, down, down, and you feel him pressing his nose to your slit.

"Oh god," you whine.

"I know," he murmurs. You feel his tongue press against your clit, and your entire body spasms. He chuckles, wrapping his arms around your legs and squeezing your thighs to hold them open. "I know babygirl.”

He licks you again, making you groan out loud. You can't help but bring one hand up to his curls, weaving your fingers through them and tugging on them like you've always wanted to. He responds by moaning, the vibrations shooting straight to your core.

You feel his tongue dip lower, spreading your wetness around. He dips it into your entrance, tongue fucking you at such a languid pace you feel like you'll fall apart. You hear him groan against your cunt again, and his hands tighten on your thighs.

"So wet, baby," he murmurs. "Taste so good.”

He presses his tongue to your clit again, and you pull on his hair harder. He grunts, and you feel him rutting up against the bed, his cock hard again, chasing some form of relief. 

"Please baby," he mumbles against you. "Want you to cum for me. Please."

You know yourself, know what gets you going and what really makes you cum, so you want to tell him that it's going to take more than this, that you're not there yet, but you don't get a chance to before he's sliding a finger inside of you, curling it up and finding your spot with such accuracy your vision goes white.

You feel him suck on your clit then, swirling his tongue around it as he slides another finger inside of you. You tug on his hair again, not even realizing that you're grinding up against his face.

You feel yourself getting closer, chasing the release you've been desperate for since he pulled you onto the bed. His fingers curl inside of you again, pressing that spot and making you scream out his name.

"Yeah?" Chan groans against you, voice hoarse and desperate. "Like that? S'okay baby, let go."

"Chan," you choke. You're so, so close. "Chris. Chris.”

He moans at that, speeding up his fingers and moving his tongue even faster.  He's rocking himself up against the mattress with more urgency now, panting and moaning with his mouth pressed to your cunt.

"C'mon babygirl," he mumbles. "Need you to cum. C'mon, please. Need it."

He presses his fingers into that spot again, and you're gone. You arch up off of the bed as you cum, his name ripping itself from your throat as he fucks you through it. You feel your cunt pulsing around his fingers as you ride out your orgasm. He keeps licking, his moans sending vibrations straight up your spine until you're over sensitive, tugging on his hair for him to back away. He does, but not before pressing wet kisses to the inside of your thigh.

He sits up then, his hair sticking up all over the place from where you've been pulling on it. He's sweaty and breathing hard, his lips swollen and red from where you were kissing him. You feel his eyes roam over your body, and you know that if you look down, you'll see how your skin is flushed from your ears down to your chest.

He's still sporting a semi, but his focus isn't on that anymore. He gathers you up in his hands, pulling you with him to the top of the bed and settling you with him on the pillows. He presses a kiss to your forehead, pulling you to rest your head on his chest.

"Sleep," he says into your hair. You notice how his body temperature has dropped-- he doesn't feel like an inferno anymore.

You're too tired to do anything but whine gently at the way he's holding you, too relaxed and spent to say anything. You feel sleep pulling at your eyes as he fixes your shirt over you carefully.

"Ah, shit," he murmurs. "Gotta clean you up. Then I'll come right back, yeah?”

You nod, trying to fight off sleep just a little longer. He presses a kiss to your hair before sliding out of the bed, going to the bathroom and coming back with a warm washcloth. You feel him wipe you down gently, and you mumble out something that might've been a thank you.

He takes the washcloth back to the bathroom, coming back to join you in bed. He pulls you back on top of him, settling the blankets over the two of you.

You're asleep before he can even kiss your forehead again.

When you wake up in the morning, you do your usual pause to see what does and doesn't hurt. You're mostly pain free, you realize sleepily, except for a dull ache in your hips and knees and a pleasant soreness in your–

Oh shit.

Everything slams back into you at once. The lemonade, Chan, him begging for you in more ways than one. It feels like you've been doused in cold water and tossed off of a bridge.

You go to sit up, but when you make an attempt to move, you feel an impossibly heavy weight around your midsection. Said weight snores a bit, and you realize that it's Chan's arm draped across you.

He's sleeping soundly next to you, hair still ruffled and unruly from where you were pulling it, lips still slightly swollen and red. The blankets are pulled up to his chin, hiding his body from view.

Your face burns as you try to really remember everything that happened last night, either to orient yourself through the brain fog or torture yourself. You're not entirely sure. Chan was... he was in rut, you knew that much. And you offered to help. Then he ate you out and gave you what was probably the most intense orgasm of your life, and then you fell asleep.

Typical stuff. Of course.

The memories are still there, but the reality of the situation has you panicking. His eyes are still closed, so you don't have to deal with the embarrassment of him catching you staring, but you're frozen anyway.

You're immediately hit with the overwhelming realization that you just made a mistake. There's no way you can possibly continue to keep your feelings for Chan a secret after this, no way that you can pretend you don't know what his amazingly deft fingers feel like inside of you. How would you ever be able to look him in the face again?

A vibrating sound pulls you from your spiral. For a second, you wonder if it's coming from Chan, but you recognize that, no matter what genetic issue he has, a person cannot vibrate. 

The sound is actually coming from just off the side of the bed, where your shorts and panties lay discarded. You reach over and pluck your phone from the back pocket, turning it over to see an unfamiliar number flashing across the screen.

You're about to send it to voicemail when your heart sinks like lead along with recognition in your chest. It's the genetic clinic.

You're untangling yourself from Chan's arms in record speed, shirking your shorts on and stepping into the hallway. He doesn't stir, thankfully, but you still close the door gently behind you anyway.

"Hello?" You breathe.

The nurse on the other side of the line greets you enthusiastically, and after confirming you are the intended recipient of the phone call, she asks you to hold while she transfers you to the doctor. You wait anxiously for a minute or two, pacing your way to the kitchen island and picking at the skin around your fingers while you listen to the generic hold music.

"Good morning," the doctor says as she comes on the line. She, too, sounds far too chipper. "I apologize for the wait, I was in the middle of rounds when your nurse flagged me down."

"That's okay," you say. Pleasantries feel superficial right now.

"Right, so. We did get some of your preliminary genetic results back," she says. You can hear pages being turned on the other side of the line. "I wanted to let you know that, unfortunately--"

The floor falls from under your feet.

"-- You did test positive for Ehlers Danlos Syndrome. Classical type."

You can't really hear anything else she's saying. Something about coming back in, maybe. About starting physical therapy. Taking care of yourself. You feel sick, like you might pass out. Or throw up. 

You manage to push through the rest of the conversation, your voice sounding far away even to your own ears. She lets you know that she's sending follow-up information to your email, says that it's important to have support at such a time like this, and you make a very non committal grunt of acknowledgement before ending the phone call. Your phone chatters on the island, the sound echoing in the empty space.

You can't even form a concept of a thought before your chest feels tight, like there's a rubber band stretching across your ribs and pulling taut. You skin suddenly feels like there are a million and one tiny sets of feet thrumming underneath it. It's too hot. Your shirt is choking you. It's all suddenly too much at once: last night with Chan, the diagnosis, the way you're feeling an ache building in your back.

You need to move. You need to get out.

You're up the stairs before you can really process it, standing in front of your suitcase and rifling through it with speed. You find a pair of sweats and what you’re almost certain is Chan's old hoodie, but you toss them on quickly anyway.

The air is crisp when it hits your face a few moments later. It's exactly what you need. The path around the cabin is familiar– you've walked it countless times during family trips and weekend getaways. You know exactly where to step to avoid the mud, which trees mark the loop back to the house.

You walk until your legs burn, until the tears on your face dry in the cold air. Your mind races with everything and nothing at once.

Classical EDS. Your PCP was right about it being a connective tissue disorder. EDS explains the tummy aches, the racing heart, the migraines, and most obviously, the joint pain. There's no cure. Just management. Just a lifetime of being careful, of physical therapy, of putting in insane amounts of effort to make sure your joints don't fucking disintegrate.

You find this to be the most manageable of all the issues at the moment. 

But Chan…

God, Chan. What were you thinking? He was in rut, vulnerable and needing comfort, and you just... what? Offered yourself up like some kind of heathen? Let him touch you in ways you've only dreamed about, knowing full well it would change everything?

This feels like the biggest issue to you, you realize when you pause on a tree stump. Because if you lose Chan, from something you initiated, you will lose everything else. He is the center of your universe, and everything revolves around him. You can't lose him, especially not over your own stupidity.

You think about going back. Talking to him. Maybe trying to convince him that you're fine, that he doesn't have to worry about you. That you don't like him like that, and you were just being a good friend and helping.

But then you remember his face when he came, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he moaned out your name. The way his fingers felt inside of you. How good he smelled.

You'll never be able to forget any of it now, you realize. And it will tear you apart if you lose him because of it.

You realize you've been walking much longer than intended when you catch a glimpse of the position of the sun. The morning chill has given way to a warmer temperature, though your face still feels numb from the wind. Your joints are definitely making themselves known now.

You suppose you may as well head back, even if you don't have any idea what you’re going to do when you have to face Chan. You can't stay out and freeze.

As you round the final bend that leads back to the cabin, you see him.

Chan is standing on the front porch, shirtless despite the cold, his hands visibly shaking at his sides. He's looking in the opposite direction, but you see when your scent hits him, because he whips around and his eyes lock onto you immediately. There's a look on his face that makes your chest ache– he looks terrified, like he's been coming apart at the seams.

You both freeze in your spots, an echo of that moment at the clinic. The silence stretches between you, heavy with everything unsaid. You notice then that his eyes are red, not the same red tint you now recognize from his rut, no. This is the red tint from that day he had to drive you to the hospital.

He's been crying.

“Where–” his voice is labored. “Babygirl. Where have you been?”

"I just..." you gesture vaguely at the path behind you. "I needed some air."

He takes a step forward, then seems to think better of it, stopping himself in his tracks. "You weren't... you were gone when I woke up. Your phone was on the counter, I couldn't... I didn't know where…”

He makes a pained noise in his chest, and then you see his entire face crumble. He pulls one of his arms up to his face, covering his eyes as you hear him start to cry.

Your heart breaks in two.

You rush to him as quickly as your protesting legs will allow, taking the stairs two at a time until you're in front of him. You reach up to gently pull his arm down, but he jerks away, a wounded noise escaping from his mouth.

"No," he cries. "You shouldn't–  don't touch me. I'm sorry.”

“Chris,” you breathe, hoping to cut through his emotional fog. “Chris, please, look at me.”

“Tell me what I did.”

You scrunch your eyebrows in confusion. “What?”

“What did I do wrong?” His voice cracks around the words. “Last night, I couldn't… control myself. And you were so good to me and then– you were gone.”

"Chan, no." You reach for him again, and this time he lets you pull his arm down. His face is streaked with tears, those big brown eyes red and swollen. "You didn't do anything wrong."

He shakes his head violently, words tumbling out around hiccups. "Then why did you leave? Why didn't you wake me up? I woke up and you were gone and I couldn't– your scent was gone and I couldn't–"

A sob cuts him off. You grab his hand and tug him towards the door. "Let's go inside. Please? It's freezing out here.”

He lets you tug him inside, at least just until you can close the door. You try to bring him over to the couch, but he's stubborn, keeping his feet planted where they are. He won't look at you, keeping his gaze downcast no matter how much you tug on his arm. You let go after a tense moment, sighing and wrapping your arms around yourself.

“Chan. The clinic called,” you say softly. “Thats why I left. My results came back.”

His head snaps up at that, understanding settling over his face. “You… did you test positive for–”

“Classical Ehlers Danlos,” you supply.

He looks like he'll cry all over again, reaching his hand out to you before pulling it back to his side. He squeezes his hands in and out of fists a few times before he shakes his head, tilting his head back until he's staring up at the ceiling.

“I'm so sorry,” he breathes. “Last night… I shouldn't have–”

“Stop, please,” you cut him off, voice hoarse in the quiet. You've run out of energy. “You didn't do anything wrong.”

“No, I did everything wrong. I thought I could handle it, thought it wouldn't be too much. Everyone told me it was a bad idea but I didn't want to listen, thought I could control myself.”

You feel bile rising in your throat. “What?”

He shakes his head again. “I shouldn't have said yes.”

He murmurs it, but the cabin is dead silent, so there's no way you don't hear it. There's no way you can misinterpret what he means either. Last night. He shouldn't have said yes when you asked if he needed help.

You take a step back, and you watch his face crumble a bit more. “Right.” Your voice sounds hollow. “It's fine. It was a mistake anyway."

"A mistake?" Now he looks confused through his tears. "No, that's not–"

"It's okay, Chan." You force a smile that feels like it might crack your face in half. You need to end this conversation now so you can go cry in your bed. "We can just forget it happened. You were in rut, I was... available. It's fine."

"Available." He deadpans. His gaze loses some of the previous softness. "Is that what you think? That I just... used you because you were there?”

You find yourself backing away towards the stairs, already mentally checked out. “Isn't it? You said it yourself last night, it was just my scent.”

His face flashes through so many emotions, you're not sure how you would begin parsing through them. He settles on something that looks like a mix of thinly veiled disgust and anger. He fixes his posture until he's back up to his full height now, brown eyes ablaze.

You decide to turn away from him fully at that moment. Whatever this is, this half argument you're having, it can wait until you've taken a good nap. You prepare to climb the stairs, keeping one hand on the railing and one foot on a stair.

That's about as far as you make it before you feel the unmistakable heat of Chan behind you. You stifle back the gasp that threatens to spill when he presses himself right up against your back, head dipped down so he's right by your ear.

“Ask me why,” he breathes. 

You shiver at the feeling of his breath on your ear, and your entire body lights up in record time. You've forgotten how to speak, maybe.

So, you eloquently stutter out a simple, "What?"

He slides a hand around you, reaching from the base of your back all the way to your stomach, pulling you closer to him. “Babygirl. I said, ask me why.”

You swallow thickly. His voice is still hoarse and low from the crying, and it sends a shiver up your spine that rocks your body so hard, you think you would fall if not for the strong arm around you.

"Why," you breathe. The word has no conviction in it. You're getting dizzy.

He leans even closer to you, lips brushing the shell of your outer ear. "Because," he murmurs. "Yes, your scent smells so fucking good. So sweet and warm. But I don't want you because you smell good, baby. I want you because you smell like you're mine.”

You whimper involuntarily at that, and you feel him inhale sharply. His other hand reaches up to hold your chin, tilting your head up towards him. You're looking at each other now, his eyes blown wide and his pupils blown so black, there's barely any brown left.

"Do you understand me, babygirl?" He's breathing hard against you. "Even under the harsh scent of your pain, or the saccharine scent of when you're happy, something in you always smells like you belong to me. Do you know why?"

Your knees feel weak. Not from pain, but because of whatever is happening right now. You let out a pathetic mewl in Chan's hold and watch his nostrils flare. 

"Because you are mine. My mate. You hear me, baby? Mine.”

Then he's tilting your head to the side and kissing down the column of your throat, nipping just hard enough to send electricity through your body. You whine, unable to stop the way your body arches into his touch. 

He makes a low, rumbling sound in his chest, pulling away just long enough to look you in your eyes again. "Wasn't using you," he huffs, saying the word use like it leaves a nasty flavor in his mouth. "I needed you, needed your scent around me to make it better. I couldn't control myself, baby."

He spins you around so that you're facing him now, hands still wrapped around your waist. You think he's about to kiss you, but you see a wave of clarity and seriousness push everything else to the side.

“They asked me at the clinic,” he starts, shuffling with you in his arms until you're back in the living room with him. “If something happened to a family member, or if I had a girlfriend who was hurt.”

You're hanging on to every word, unable to look away from his eyes.

“I told them no to both, but I told them about the hospital, about how you called me crying cause you were in so much pain, and you just kept passing out on me. I told them about how scared I was that if I left the hospital, I would come back and you wouldn't be there. You'd be gone. It was ripping me apart.”

You reach up to touch his face without thinking, thumb brushing over his cheekbone. He leans into the touch like he can't help himself.

“I presented because I wanted to protect you down to my very DNA. I was going so crazy about you that my body needed a way to protect me– protect you.”

“Chan,” you breathe.

“They said my inner wolf, that primal part of me, recognized it as my mate being in pain, and I was powerless to stop it. It's you, babygirl. It's always been you.”

The hopeless romantic in your heart is giddy. 

You think about how you'd tried to touch him during the drive up, how he'd pulled his hands away like he was in pain. You supposed maybe he was. Going through his first rut, stuck in an enclosed space with his mate, unable to do anything about it.

You can't imagine the amount of restraint it probably took him to remain normal. The sheer thought of it alone has you blinking back up at him, looking right in his eyes.

With the eye contact, you feel his body swell microscopically, like he's flaxing every muscle so he can look bigger, more threatening, but he is neither of those things to you.

To you he is just Chan.

You're rising up on your toes before you even know what's happening, hand sliding up Chan's neck to pull him down towards you and catching his lips in a hot, burning kiss. 

The hand around your waist tighten's its grip, slotting you even further against his body.

It feels like home. It feels like safety.

You feel his growing bulge press against you, and you hum into the kiss. 

It feels like perfection.

"M'Sorry," he slurs against your mouth. He makes no effort to pull away. "Still in rut. Sensitive."

You say nothing, sliding your free hand down his chest, over his stomach until you reach what you're looking for. You rest your hand over it softly, not grabbing or pressing, but he responds like you do, grunting and rutting up against your hand as he starts panting.

"Babygirl," he groans. "Baby, please."

You start moving your hand in earnest now, cupping his bulge through his sweats as he grinds up against you. His eyes flutter closed and he pulls away from the kiss, leaning his forehead against yours.

"God, I wanna fuck you so bad," he grunts. "Wanna be inside. Wanna cum inside you so deep you'll never forget who you belong to. Make myself your alpha."

It's insane how your body reacts to that. You feel your clit jump in your underwear. The Alpha/Omega thing wasn't real-- or at least wasn't based on any science with the condition, but the way Chan speaks, the way his grunts sound so close to your ear, you believe it could be.

"You're gonna let me, right?" He whines. "Please? I'll make you feel so good. Been so good for me already baby. Just wanna make you cum on my cock."

Your moan gets caught in your throat when he slides a hand down your body to grip the swell of your ass. Between that and feeling him, rock solid against you, your entire body comes back to life with desperate, almost delirious need.

"Yes," you breathe. "Yes, Channie, please. Want you. Please."

His chest vibrates with a growl and he wastes no time pushing you back until you're laying against the couch. He kneels over you, large hand reaching down and palming himself through his sweats.

He notices what you're wearing at that moment. He reaches his free hand down, gripping the material of your– his – hoodie. It's entirely too big for you, even when you're standing, but laying back like this, the material absolutely dwarfs you. 

He must like the sight of it, because you watch him grip himself tight.

"Fuck, babygirl. You don't know what you do to me. Wearing my clothes? Are you even wearing anything under that?"

Feeling bold, you reach down and pull the hem of the sweater up, just enough so that he can see the expanse of skin right under it. When he looks back at your face, you give him an innocent expression, eyes wide and blinking.

He doesn't even bother taking anything off, just pulls his cock out of his sweats and starts stroking himself again. You feel your mouth go dry just from the sight of it– hard and flushed red, precum dripping from the tip. You grip the material of his sweater tighter.

“Gonna be good, baby?" he breathes. "Wanna get off like this."

You nod, unable to form a coherent sentence. He looks fucking delicious above you, cock in hand as he strokes himself faster now, moaning at the way you look underneath him.

"Gonna make myself cum on your stomach," he grunts. "Mark you. Then I'll fuck you until you're screaming, so everyone knows who you belong to.”

You feel your cunt throbbing in your underwear. You cant help the way you whine out his name, the way you squeeze your thighs together to try to get some relief. He looks like he's going to explode just from hearing you say his name like that.

He leans over you, bracing one hand on the back of the couch by your head, effectively caging you in. You can feel how his muscles flex under your hands as you touch him, sliding your palms up and down his chest. You find your eyes locked onto his hand, watching the way he moves up and down.

"Couldn't stop thinking about you," he breathes. "Fucked my fist so many times wishing it was you.”

You wrap your arms around him, one hand going up to that special spot at the base of his neck. As you graze your nails against it, he turns his face, pressing his nose into the pulse point on your wrist, inhaling you and your smell.

He starts moaning louder, breath fanning across your arm as he gets closer and closer to the edge. You're so turned on from it, you feel like you might actually cum without a hand to your body.

"Babygirl," he grunts. "Baby, fuck. I'm close."

You pull him down to you, pressing his face right into your neck. You can feel how his eyelids flutter as his eyes roll back, the arm by your head straining with how tightly he's gripping the couch.

"Gonna let your alpha cum on your stomach, baby? Mark you?”

You nod quickly. You feel him lean in even more, brushing his lips against the soft part of your throat where he no doubt can feel your erratic pulse. You right into his ear, and then he's groaning out your name and nipping at your throat hard, all teeth and tongue and need as he spills all over you.

He makes sure to press his body flush against you while he rides out his orgasm, so that his cum splatters all over your stomach. He grinds up against you with his hips, making sure his cock slides along the fabric of his sweater. You watch him get lost in it, eyes screwed shut as he mouths at your throat, panting and moaning through his high.

Then he stills, just a bit. He pulls away from your neck, his pupils still completely blown as he looks down at you.

You're not sure what he sees when he does. You know sweat is starting to stick to your skin, plastering little bits of your hair to your face. Despite not being touched yet, you feel absolutely cock drunk if only on the sight of Chan alone.

You can't tell if that's what he sees, but whatever it is, it makes his still-hard cock jump against where it rests on your stomach. He's pushing himself up to sit on his knees before you even remember your own name.

He slides down the couch until his face is level with your hips. He pulls the waistband of your sweats down just enough for your cunt to be exposed, and then he's leaning forward, dragging his tongue along your slit.

"Fuck," you cry, body jolting. "Chan."

He doesn't respond verbally, just hums and pulls back enough to stare at your dripping cunt. You find your hips bucking up when he lets his mouth water just enough to drool right on you.

He dives back down to your cunt and pushes his tongue inside of you. You feel him moan against you as he licks you, slow and deliberate. You can hear how wet you are, and you feel yourself throb around his tongue when you hear it.

"I kept noticing your scent change," he says against your clit. He gives it a few kitten licks before diving down and flattening his tongue on you, licking and slurping you from end to end. "Sometimes, I would look at you, or touch you, and you smelled like citrus. Couldn't figure out why."

He takes those absurdly plump lips and suctions them around your clit, one strong arm coming to hold you down when you arch up off the bed.  "Thats just your scent when you're aroused," he continues, nudging his nose against your clit. "Smells so fucking good."

You're certain you might be delirious at this point. The way Chan eats you out feels so much better than anything else you've ever felt, and his tongue has you hurdling to the crest of your orgasm faster than you can believe.

"Oh. Ohh," you whimper. "Channie, m'so close."

"That's my good girl," he murmurs. His lips are still right against your clit. "You're so perfect baby. Let me make you feel good. Want you to cum for me."

He slides his tongue back inside of you, and you feel a hand come up to play with your clit. You're so dangling off the edge, so ready to jump with the right push. You just need a little more, but then you feel a finger slide inside of you and crook up.

You're gone. You cum with a shout of Chan's name, arching up off of the couch as your body shakes from the intensity of it all. He licks you through it, pulling away only when you start to whine and wiggle around from the sensitivity.

He sits back on his knees again, watching you pant on the couch as you try to collect yourself. You look over at him when you catch your breath, and you see him licking his fingers clean.

He leans over you again, and you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down. You don't bother asking first, just slot his lips to yours in a desperate kiss. It's absolutely wet and filthy, the flavor of yourself bursting over your tongue when he swipes into your mouth. You suck on his tongue, hard, and he groans into your mouth, hands sliding up under the sweater to touch your bare skin.

"Gonna fuck you good now," he grunts against your lips. You whine and press your body into his. "Okay, baby? Do you think you're ready for me?"

"Yes, Chris," you sigh. He pulls away from the kiss gently to stare at you. Despite the haze of his rut, you can see a hesitancy in his eyes, like there's something he wants but he's not saying. It takes all of two seconds for you to connect the dots.

"Please, Alpha?" you whine.

That seems to be the magic word, because he's lifting you up into his arms and standing up from the couch immediately. In a split second, you're pressed up against the wall next to the TV. You're very thankful for the layer between your bare skin and the freezing cold wall.

He wraps your legs around his waist, and suddenly you can feel the heat of his erection right on you. He presses his cock between your folds, holding you tight while he ruts up into you. 

You're so wet that the head catches against your entrance every so often, making both of you moan into each others mouths.

"Thank you, baby," he murmurs, uncharacteristically soft at a moment like this. "'m so grateful. So--" He lets out a pant, eyes rolling back as he lets his head drop back too. "Fuck."

You know Chan well enough to know what he's trying to say. He's thanking you for accepting him, for coming back to him, for letting him be vulnerable.

How could you not? He was so distressed by your wellbeing that a distant part of his DNA woke up to protect you. He ignored his doctor's orders to take you on this trip because he knew you needed it. He was content to suffer through his first rut in silence if it meant just taking care of you.

How could you not love all that he is?

You learn forward and nip him right as his pulse point, and his whole body jerks. You know werewolf lore, know that a bite there means a forever. You don't have the same genetic syndrome, but God do you want to be in his arms forever. You don't even feel like you need to question it.

His eyes, heavily lidded, find their way to your face. "You know what that bite means, right baby?" His voice is hoarse, and even when he clears his throat at your responding nod, it doesn't get better. "You wanna mark me there, babygirl? Make me yours?”

You nod, sliding your mouth up his throat until your lips are pressed right against his ear. You slide your tongue over his lobe and tug on it. "Please alpha. Wanna show everyone who you belong to."

He snakes a hand up your back until he finds your hair, fingers tangling in the roots as he grips, pulling your head back. "I mark you first," he grits out. "Let alpha take care of you."

You can't help the way you go pliant, letting your head fall to one side just enough to expose your neck to him. You watch his eyes and make your expression as wanting as possible.

He groans at that, finally pulling you away from the wall just enough so that he can line himself up. He pushes his tip right into you, and you press your forehead against his, the mixed sounds of your breathing being the only thing filling the atmosphere.

"I love you," he sighs. Your heart squeezes in your chest. "Gonna take such good care of you always, yeah?"

"I love you more, Chan," is your breathy reply.

"I'll give you everything," he sighs. "Everything you want. I just need you to come on my cock first, yeah? The alpha's got you. I got you."

Then he's pushing in slowly, and you both sigh as he bottoms out. You cling to him, pressing your face into his neck as he fucks you slowly into the wall.

He keeps it slow, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your forehead and hair, telling you how good you feel, how perfect you are for him, how you were made just for him. You're already feeling the pressure building up in your stomach again, barely paying attention to what he's saying. 

"Gonna breed this tight little pussy," he murmurs at some point. You do hear that, and you clench hard around him, making him groan.

"Oh fuck," he gasps. "You want my seed, huh? Want me to fuck my seed in you, angel?"

Your walls around him again, swallowing him up. You know you can't get pregnant-- birth control and all of that-- but the idea of him filling you up has your body begging for more. You dig your nails into the skin of his back and you feel him throb inside of you. He makes a sound between a grunt and a moan, slamming his hips into yours, cock sliding into you deeper than before.

"Fuck," he breathes. "Fuck, m'so close already. Think you can you cum with me angel? Hm?"

You nod, clinging to his shoulders as you bounce up and down on his cock. It feels so good, too good, and you're already so close yourself.

"Chris," you whine. "I'm– fuck, I'm close."

"I know, babygirl," He sounds so wrecked. "I'm right behind you. You can cum for me baby. Cum for your alpha. Want you to cum on me, please."

He presses a kiss to your neck, right over your pulse point, and that's all it takes to send you tumbling over the edge. You cry out his name, letting him fuck you through it while your cunt pulsates around him. You feel him twitch in you, a deep guttural moan leaving his lips as he slams into you one last time, spilling all his cum inside of you.

He bites you then.

Its not painful, not really, because he doesn't break skin. His teeth aren't sharp enough for that. The bite is more performative than anything, but it sends a shockwave through your body.

 It's a strange feeling, almost like your blood is simmering under your skin, but you're so lost in the bliss of your orgasm that you don't even care. It feels right, anyhow. Like the final missing piece to a puzzle you've been spending a lifetime constructing.

He stays there for a second, sucking a bruise into your neck. His hands are shaking, but he's holding you tight enough that you don't even worry about falling.

Then, he licks the spot on your neck where he bit, soothing whatever pain he might've caused. He pulls away from you just enough to press a kiss to your lips, still holding you up with his cock in you.

"I love you," he whispers. "My mate. Mine."

You reach a hand up to touch his neck, and he tilts his head to the side, giving away to the instincts thrumming under his skin. You take your fingers and trace them along the column of his throat, stopping just under his Adam's apple. 

You don't say anything at first, just lean forward and press your lips against the same spot. Your bite is more restrained, more gentle. He hisses out a strangled sound, and you would assume it was pain if you didn't feel his cock pulse in you.

When you pull away, you look at him, a small smile on both of your incredibly fucked out faces. You lean forward and press a little kiss to his lips.

"I love you too," is your quiet reply. "My mate."

As promised, he's so gentle with you afterwards, cleaning you up and giving you your medication when he scents your hips are about to ache. The entire ordeal is so familiar, so cozy, you wonder how you could've ever let yourself believe that Chan didn't love you too.

Hours later, when you're cuddled together on the couch, dozing off in his lap, you hear him whispering something against your hair. Your mind is so muddled with sleep you can barely make out the words he's saying.

You string together something about mates, something about how he'll protect you, how you're his everything, how he loves you so much.

It doesn't really matter though. You know already, because he's yours, and you're his.

His everything.

[notjustjavierpena]

Sucía: Part III - Unrequited

Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: So many requests for this one and inspiration finally hit the right spot. This can be read as a standalone piece but I recommend the whole thing.

Summary: Somewhere along the way, you end up in a situationship with Javier Peña. 

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18, unrequited love, situationship, fuckboy!javier, alcohol consumption, various pet names, papi/daddy kink, dirty talk, degradation, praises, so much making out, pussy eating, desperate and rough sex, piv sex, possessive sex, face slapping, fingersucking, creampie

Word count: 4.9k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48859147/chapters/123256180

Unrequited

After you spend a whole night and day in Javier's arms, a month passes, but it never repeats itself, never becomes as tender. You start to think that it might have been a way to lure you in, a highly intelligent skill developed in a predator who wants to keep its prey around for as long as possible. Instead of dating the cop, you become entangled in some sort of strange arrangement and everything about Javier Peña tells you to run for the hills; the handsome forever bachelor with an apartment that has never had the touch of a woman, the man who rests a cigarette so effortlessly between his fingers but never wants to hold your hand. This is despite how you think he should be at the age where men start to panic about not having settled down. He seems so desperate to stress that this isn’t love, even when he coos your name so gently when he takes you in his arms after making your whole nervous system go into overdrive. 

Yet, there’s something about him that makes you keep coming back, makes you ignore the insistence of the warning bells in your head because Papí always takes care of you, right, Nena (babygirl)? And perhaps, it’s the way his hands run through your hair while your back arches, the way he touches you as if he is reaching inside your chest and pulling at your heartstrings, or how his dark, intense eyes watch you as you give yourself to him without hesitation, his gaze peeling back every layer of your insecurities about your physique and making them fade away during the nights you spend together. 

Despite his evident desire, his praises of your body, and your eagerness, he never says the things you actually want to hear. There are no declarations of love, no promises of forever in his moonlit bedroom other than the way he tells you that no one fucks him quite like you or the post-orgasmic vulnerability that makes him let you in on what he did before coming back to life in the Lone Star State. It causes you to make excuses for him; he is a man who has been hurt in the past, who’s built walls so high around his heart that not even he knows how to tear them down. Because he has had to. And now, he is a man who is content with the rough edges of life rather than the soft embrace of love. 

Your friend Hannah, your confidant, tells you to end it, that he is a loser. Your mother and father don't know about him, and when you lie about whose sheets you spend the night in, you convince yourself that it’s for the better. No one who cares about you would want you in this situation, so why do you keep doing it? Maybe the danger is covered by the thrill. Maybe there’s something exciting about the idea of holding your relationship out for everyone to stare at, desperately trying to stress that you should have seen him in the beginning when he first had me!

You are at his door again in the late evening, having dropped everything as soon as he called and changed your jeans and t-shirt into a miniskirt and crop top. It is only so he thinks that this is how you normally dress, wanting to keep up the illusion that you are enticing and alluring even when he doesn’t see you, that he needs to hold onto you otherwise you’ll be snatched out of his grip. 

Maybe you’re the loser here.

Javier opens the door and takes you in, looking like someone repressing a question about where you’ve been since you’re dressed up like this. Nothing in him seems to acknowledge the obvious fact that you want to look nice for him, so he doesn’t compliment it and just takes a step back. His eyes, however, do soften as he watches you step into his home. 

“Can I get you something? A beer? Whiskey?” He asks nonchalantly as you enter the living room and then follow him into the kitchen. His shirt is untucked from his jeans, the knot on his tie loosened, and his hair is slightly tousled from his own hand running through it. You notice the kitchen window has been opened and the ashtray on the breakfast table has a half-smoked cigarette in it. 

“No, I’m fine, thanks,” you say, saving the pleasantries; you know why you’re here and so does he. You just need an in, a way of getting things rolling, so you lean back against the kitchen counter while watching him take out a beer for himself. He takes a long swig of the bottle, a single drop threatening to drip from the corner of his mouth and causing your own mouth to run dry. 

“Long day?” You ask as he swallows his drink, the gorgeous column of his neck peeking out from underneath the collar and tie. You’ve kissed him so many times there. You tilt your head, noticing that it’s definitely not his first drink, “Catch any bad guys?”

Javier nods but doesn’t elaborate. Instead, he sets his beer down on the table before walking to stand in front of you. You feel a bit of annoyance at his silence, so you rest a hand on his wrist when he tries to undo the first button of your cropped shirt, “Do you want to talk about it?”

He tenses up at the invasive question even if you meant nothing by it, simply using it to make him word what he wants from you. He furrows his brow, mouth becoming a thin line for just a second. However, when he opens his mouth, and you’re sure he is going to retort, his voice has gotten a rougher edge, “No, I want you, Princesa (Princess).” 

You know what the use of that pet name means and it’s what you want too, what you keep coming back for if it means his eyes roaming over your body like they do right now, hungry and possessive. You’ll gladly play the part to be worshiped for a night at a time. Your hand falls from his wrist to his belt buckle, your other hand joining to undo it until it makes a clinking noise as it opens. You let the belt hang down to the sides, going straight for the button and zipper instead of wasting time with getting him fully undressed. 

Javier, however, stops you and seems determined to get at least your top off first. He continues unbuttoning it until it hangs open, swearing at the sight of your lack of a bra. His palms go underneath the fabric and grope at your sides, sliding upwards until he can cup your breasts. 

“Papí,” you breathe softly when his thumbs skim over your nipples, and the tension in the air from before seems to evaporate completely. He leans in until you are pressed against the edge of the kitchen table and then captures your mouth in a needy kiss. It is fierce and hungry, taking your breath away from you as you give in to him once more. He makes you squeak into his mouth as he pinches both your nipples, tugging slightly until it stings just a little. It’s a punishment, you realize, for trying to crack the surface of him.

“Don’t ask me that sorta question again,” he says when he needs a mouthful of air, his breath hot against your lips. He stares into your eyes, not scared of holding your gaze this up close, and you can feel yourself shaking your head with wide eyes. He swallows and speaks again, “You don’t want me like that.”

“I know,” you reply with a trembling voice that betrays you in your lie. Just a month ago, you were so certain of yourself and confident in what you wanted from him but the yearning for his touch has only made you weaker since he invited you into his bedroom for the first time. Clearly, he feels it too because his hands remove themselves from your body to lay flat on the kitchen table. 

“You know I can’t,” he whispers while his eyes roam over your face, settling on your mouth that has fallen open. You miss his touch but his hands are immovable on the kitchen counter, almost like he needs you to initiate everything again so he doesn’t feel like a prick. 

“It’s okay. I’m okay,” you promise as you reach up to cup his face, dragging his mouth to your open one to make him kiss you feverishly again. He makes you so wet that it is ridiculous, brushing his tongue against yours in a way that reminds you just how great he fucks you each time. Is that all he thinks he is good for? 

“Tell me to stop,” he continues, his mouth descending on your neck, leaving a trail of spit in its wake while his hands slowly inch closer to your body again. He settles them on your waist, thumbs digging into the soft and exposed skin of your stomach. 

“I can’t, Papí,” you moan with each mark he leaves along the column of your throat and gasp in surprise when he lifts you onto the kitchen counter. He stands in front of you, not fully in your embrace yet, and his breath is hot and heavy against your damp skin.

“And why is that?” He almost seems to be taunting you. He nibbles along the spot where your blood courses through your veins and he can feel your pulse the hardest.

“Because,” you swallow as you realize how hard it is to let him go despite knowing you probably should before you get your heart broken. You’re still here, taking whatever scraps of himself that he’ll offer, “Because I don’t want you to stop.”

“Then tell me you want me like I want you,” he sounds like he is pleading you to slip into the role you usually inhabit. You try not to think about what those words mean to the both of you. His hands lift off your skin. They hover for a moment as if giving you one last out, but when you stay frozen, waiting for more, he places his palms on top of your thighs. He pushes them apart, pulling out the big guns to make your brain stutter in its train of thought. You know what’s coming before he even sinks to his knees. 

You let your head fall back as he disappears underneath your miniskirt with the gaze of a worshipper, one hand having gotten there just moments before to drag your panties to the side. He drags his lazy tongue through your soaked folds, letting it delve into your cunt for a second just for a taste. You are sure you have already made his mustache shiny with your slick, dripping obscenely from merely kissing him because you are so pathetically obsessed with him. You reach to yank your skirt up, needing to see if wetness is smearing his chin too as he moves closer to your clit. 

“Oh fuck,” you thread your fingers through his hair to yank his head up too. He smirks up at you, eyes perfectly dazed with how drunk he is from mixing his liquor with going down on you. The sight of his shiny, satisfied face makes your pussy clench and release on its own, a little moan leaving you even when he isn’t doing anything to you except staring. You know that your meaningless noises are exactly what he wants instead of your attempt at connection. 

You grip the counter with your free hand when he dips his head down again and wraps his lips around your pulsing clit, his cheeks hollowing with how he sucks on the little nub like it is a hard candy. He continues staring up at you through his lashes as he does it, pupils blown wide with desire until the brown in his beautiful eyes is almost completely replaced with black. You watch him eat you out enthusiastically, and you whimper feebly from how each of his licks and sucks is a step further toward your undoing. He loves going down on you but there’s a certain urgency in his work on your clit as if he wants you with scrambled brains so you won’t annoy him again with your feelings, your need of digging deeper. 

You have a suspicion that he only calls you when he is in need of distraction, of replacing the loneliness and frustration he feels in his empty apartment with something that’s bound to end in euphoria. You wonder how his day has actually been. Does it even matter? No one has ever made you feel this way. This wanted. Desired. 

Beneath you, Javier pulls back for just a second and your heart skips a beat, the timing with your racing mind making you fear that he might have read your thoughts. However, he simply heaves for breath. 

“You taste so fucking good, bebita (baby),” he murmurs only to dive back into your cunt with newfound energy. His tongue glides across your clit again, presses harder, and you moan louder, the sound scratching the back of your throat. Your head bumps against the kitchen cabinet behind you, your fingers tightening in his short, dark hair to keep up an illusion of control over his power over you. Yet he just responds with a filthy open-mouthed kiss to your clit as if he wants to remind you who’s really in charge. 

“That feels so fucking good,” you gasp towards the ceiling. However, when you think it can’t get any better, he pauses only briefly to push your miniskirt all the way up to your hips so your thighs can be dragged onto his shoulders. He places a hand on your side, his thumb just below your ribs, and bobs his head slightly while his tongue is tensed up as it flicks expertly against the little nub. You can hear his breathing grow heavy through his nose to keep himself from needing a break and then he works towards making you come. 

When it hits you, it’s almost too much. He latches onto your clit as it happens, coaxing out each little twitch of it while you see stars, body shaking on the counter. You tug on his hair gently, arching into the sensation of him slurping up whatever you give him. and cry out his name in the quiet space. He makes you feel completely overwhelmed and sated at the same time. 

He only pulls back when you start whimpering for him to stop. He sits back a little on his feet, rubbing your thighs soothingly with his face shining in the overhead lights. He doesn’t say anything yet, waits for you to come down to earth with him once more. 

The buzz he has left in your lower body makes you giggle. You cup his face, high on the tingling in your spit-slicked clit, “You eat pussy so fucking well, Papi.”

“And I love eating this pussy out, Princesa (princess),” he replies with no hesitation, seeming ready to spoil you further from hearing that nickname out of your mouth. Gently, he removes your legs from his shoulders so he can rise to his feet again. He leans in, capturing your mouth in a heated kiss, letting you taste yourself on his lips until you are breathless all over again. 

You can feel his hands sliding up your sides until they pull your already-open blouse off your shoulders, dropping it onto the kitchen counter as if it belongs in the room. He dips down for another kiss, one that’s just as desperate, just as thorough in wanting you but a realization hits you square in the chest. The intensity between the two of you isn’t just passion; it’s sadness, a mutual understanding that whatever this is, it is all it will ever be. No promises of a future together. 

You moan helplessly when Javier slips his tongue into your mouth, holding your hips tightly while you remove his tie and unbutton his shirt rather hurriedly. You can’t help already aching for more, feeling as if you’ll perish if you don’t consume everything he is willing to give you. He barely gives you time to drop his tie onto the floor, doesn’t give you time either to take a breath before he scoops you up, his broad hands sliding under your thighs to hoist you up. 

Instinctively, you wrap your limbs around him and cling to him. Your fingers thread through his hair like earlier, dragging his mouth over yours again while he takes sure steps toward his bedroom. He is so close like this, the front of his chest rubbing against your bare tits until you whimper from how your nipples harden at the simple touch. He is so hard in his jeans, straining against your barely covered sex. You think he must be aching by now, desperate with his head swimming as much as yours with each step he takes towards the end goal that is his bed. 

You’re right. He doesn’t even reach his bedroom before he has pushed you against a wall, his hips crashing against yours and eliciting a loud groan from his throat. He doesn’t stay on your mouth, moves his lips down the column of your neck until your belly twists with burning desire from each nip of your sensitive skin. 

“Shit, Javi,” you groan as he thrusts his hips into you again, your nails scratching his shoulders until the fabric of his shirt bunches up between your fingers. You yank it down his arms, hoping to have him more undressed soon. 

“Needed you so fucking bad, had to call you,” he murmurs while inhaling the skin of your neck as if he can smell the dopamine on you. He soothes a hickey with his tongue, panting as he repeatedly presses his hard cock into your core. The rough fabric of his jeans against your soaked panties makes you moan, unable to think of anything but him. 

“Take this off,” you push further on his shirt, barely coherent with how your sensitive clit throbs, “Fuck, I want you so much.”

Javier obliges and holds you up by leaning his weight into you. His pulse beats hard in his chest, able to be felt against your own heated skin. He lets the sleeves of his shirt slide off one by one until it finally lies pooling on the floor. It is rare you get undressed with this intensity, almost symbolic of how he is leaving breadcrumbs of you and him in his apartment. 

“I need you to fuck me, Papi,” you beg with a few hungry kisses when it becomes too much to be so continuously empty. His cock is right there and you long for it to stretch you open. He shushes you as you whine and then nods without words.

His grip around your thighs tightens as he hauls you off the wall, using his foot to push the door to his bedroom open. He makes his way for the bed, lowering you carefully onto it when he is right by the edge. 

“Get those clothes off and spread your legs,” he commands while vaguely gesturing for you to hurry up. He stares down at you while you shimmy out of your miniskirt and panties, his eyes heavy-lidded as his hands find the zipper on his jeans in the meantime. He hisses as he drags his pants and underwear down in one go, the graze of his cock looking like it is almost too much with how hard he is. Your head floods with what it will feel like when he finally slips into the heat between your legs. 

“Please,” you let your thighs fall open because you want to see if the delicious images in your head are real, inviting him to join you when the sight of his generous erect cock makes your chest heave. 

“You’ll do anything for it right now, won't you?” His tone drops to something condescending and he climbs onto the bed, slotting himself between your legs. You nod frantically because of how you see him reach down between your bodies to guide himself to where you need him the most. You feel how he doesn’t slide into you yet but instead teases your slick folds until you try pushing yourself down onto his length. He chuckles darkly, satisfied by your eagerness, and dips the head into you with a ragged breath, “Puta (slut).”

You moan and shake your head, “No.”

“Then why did you just squeeze my cock as I said it, bebita (baby)? You dirty girl,” he taunts, finally pressing fully inside of you with a sigh of satisfaction and relief. You groan alongside him when he kisses the very back of your cunt, your slick walls welcoming his girth even if it stings. 

You grab at his shoulders as if clinging onto dear life, your nails creating crescent-shaped marks in his skin, but Javier gathers your wrists in a firm grip to pin them above your head. The loss of control makes you dizzy with lust, a pleading look on your face as he thrusts experimentally. Once again, the two of you groan in unison at the sensation of finally melting together. 

Javier holds himself up on his elbow, free hand cupping your face to stroke his thumb across your cheek. He kisses your lips in sweet contrast to his name-calling as he starts rolling his hips into you, the lewd sounds of sex filling the room. 

“Mine,” he growls under his breath. 

You find yourself reeling from how completely he fills you up, moving inside of you like he is made for it, and continuously slamming into that one spot that has your vision blurring. God, what is the point in wanting more from him? In needing love that might send him running when no one could ever fuck you like this? It’s a dangerous addiction. He is the only one to make your body sing like this so you nod in agreement. You’re his and you let him know with a loud cry. 

“Tell me who owns this whore pussy,” he demands, not satisfied with a simple nod. His maddening thrusts become sharper and punctuate his words while he stares down at you, waiting for your answer with dark eyes.

“You, Papi, it belongs— fuck, it’s yours,” you gasp, your voice trembling with how well his cock works you open. Your back is sweaty from your raging and rapid heartbeat, your body clinging to the sheets as pleasure builds impossibly fast. 

“You fucking bet it’s me. Can’t you feel how I’m beating her up real good? Fuck, she’s weeping for me, pobrecita (poor thing),” his hips snap impossibly harder, his cock sliding in and out of you with obscene sounds that make your toes curl and your back arch. 

“You’re so deep— oh my God, fuck, Papi!” You squeak underneath him, your head thrown back at a particularly hard thrust. He makes a sound of disapproval, even if he can’t stop himself from kissing the exposed, stretched part of your neck.

“Ojos aquí, Princesa (eyes here, princess),” he commands you but when you don’t immediately react in your cockdrunk state, his hand slips down to harshly grab your chin. He yanks your gaze back to him and your breath hitches at the sight of him. His eyes are burning right through you, filled with authority, and sending a ravenous shiver down to your pulsing cunt. He lets out a guttural moan as you choke his length then smirks in triumph, “That’s it, Don’t make me ask again.”

You’re wide-eyed like a deer in the headlights of a car, nodding your head repeatedly while he fucks you open with a tighter grip on your wrists. He tests your obedience, caressing your cheek sweetly with his free hand for a second before letting it come down in a smack. You whimper and moan at the surprise-sting, brain scrambling to process the mix between pleasure and pain but you don’t let your gaze falter. Your instincts keep your eyes on him even if you want to close them. Instead, you furrow your brow but no more than that, chewing on your bottom lip to deal with it all. 

“Fuck, you’re so good for me. Such a good girl,” he praises, soothing your warm cheek with his thumb where he has just struck you, “Look at you taking my dick so well, keeping those pretty eyes on me like a good little slut. You’re perfect, baby.”

Not removing your eyes from his, you turn your head slightly until the tip of his thumb pokes into your bottom lip. You part your lips, swollen from kisses, and suck on the digit like it is his cock. It’s a lewd sight, your cheeks hollowed while he presses slightly down on your soft tongue until you drool. 

He groans low in his throat, his breathing suddenly sounding like he is much closer than before. He loves it when you’re filthy and he rewards you by finally removing his hand from your wrists. His calloused palm trails down your side until he can slip it under your back to rest it right at the bottom of your spine. The way he pushes your pelvis slightly into the air causes your toes to curl, the new angle making him hit even deeper. You thank the finger in your mouth because you start screaming as you come. 

Despite your arms free, you can do little else but helplessly hold onto the headboard of the bed, feeling as if it is the only thing anchoring you to the bed. Your nails claw at the wood, your mouth falling open enough for a gargled version of his name to leave it. 

Javier pants at the way your walls clamp down on him, squeezing his cock rhythmically as you cry feebly through your intense pleasure. He breathes deeply in through his nose, the way he sometimes does when teetering on the edge of his own orgasm, and kisses your open mouth filthily. His thumb slips out as he does it, smearing saliva on your cheek, and his thrusts become relentless. It almost hurts when you’re so sensitive but you take it until he stills his hips.

“Dios mío, así (my God, like that),” he groans into your mouth but then his head drops to your shoulder as he buries himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he pumps you full of come. The warmth of him fills you, and you whine as heat spreads inside of you, your body shaking from overstimulation and aftershocks. 

For a moment, the only sound in the room is your ragged breathing, his weight on top of you so heavenly as you both come down again. 

“You okay?” He murmurs gently, his voice almost sounding concerned due to affection. 

You nod beneath him, swallowing thickly around the lump in your throat. The question twists like a knife in your chest because it isn’t really what he is asking. What he really wants to know is whether you are still playing by his rules, if this is still casual to you. It’s not. It hasn’t been since he dried your post-orgasmic tears away a month ago. 

“Yeah,” you nod, wishing he wouldn’t ask you that while he is still inside of you, “I’m fine.”

He kisses you softly but the softness is fleeting and a few kisses later, he pulls out of you with a slight hiss. He rolls off of you, leaving you bare in his bedroom and causing you to freeze. 

“Good,” he replies monotonously. There’s a pack of cigarettes on his nightstand, and he reaches for one and his lighter. 

You want to say those three little words so badly but the risk is unbearable. Is it better to have this than nothing at all? Sometimes, you wonder if he feels it too, the hollow ache that settles in your chest each time you untangle, or if he’s already moved on. 

“Stay the night,” he states or suggests as he takes a satisfying drag of his smoke. He turns his head and looks at you, stealing the air from your lungs when he looks like he wants to say something more. You prepare yourself but then he slips out of bed with that easy grace, and you’re left with the fading warmth of where his body has been.

“Okay,” you hear yourself say. You know he just doesn’t want to be alone in his apartment.

Still, you can’t help but wonder what it would be like to be the one to break through all his barriers, to be the woman of his dreams who could make him stay in every way. You imagine it sometimes during the quiet moments when he’s finally asleep beside you, his face soft as he has his guard down momentarily. You imagine what it would be like if he really let you in but he always checks out before you can even begin to think of demanding more.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[meo-eiru]

Well he DOES look different! Σ(ﾟ口ﾟ;)//

Well he DOES look different! Σ(ﾟ口ﾟ;)//

Basically Elias was emo fuckboy before he met Darling and became the babygirl we know today (you can tell I don't know how to handle cold colors hahrrrr)

Anyways *emoes your Silas*

I LOVE THIS OMG THE COLORS LOOK SO NICE

And the second image is sending me, literally before and after meeting you

ALSO LAVI NOOOOOO

[hamsterclaw]

BTS members reactions when you tell them you’re mad at them because they were mean to you in a dream

Also for @bloviating-vy

Seokjin

A veteran of dealing with irrationalities, from years of managing the maknaes (and Yoongi), he calmly assures you that you’ll be back in love with him after breakfast and whips you up French toast served with an extra fruity flying kiss.

Yoongi

A veteran of indulging irrational behaviour from the maknaes (and Seokjin), he tells you flatly not to be ridiculous and pretends not to see your pout. In true tsundere fashion, somehow all the best morsels from breakfast end up on your plate, a coffee from your favourite joint gets delivered to your workplace and you come home to Yoongi with his hair in a tiny ponytail that he mainly does to indulge you and your favourite drama lined up on the TV. There’s no point asking if he’s working extra hard for your love today, he wouldn’t admit it anyway.

Namjoon

Thing is, your Namjoon has an asshole streak in him so wide it’s more of a whole personality than a trait. Like Yoongi, he tells you not to be irrational. Unlike Yoongi, he proceeds to tell you about why your subconscious might be sending you this dream. If he wasn’t wearing those grey sweatpants that outline his dick so well you might actually be listening. You cut him off by asking if he wants to crossfit with you.

Hoseok

Unlike his hyungs, Hobi takes your sad feelings to heart, so much so that you end up comforting him after finding him looking up how to hire a skywriting plane to write an apology in the sky when the weather next permits.

Jimin

Wants to know exactly what was said in the dream and who was involved because he would never. Sure he can be sassy at times but he would never be that mean to you and anyway it was just a dream right? Strips off surreptitiously whilst you’re talking and by the time you get to the end he’s butt naked and what were you thinking again? Never mind.

Taehyung

Like Jimin, strips off but doesn’t bother to be surreptitious about it. One minute he’s fully dressed the next he’s balls out smouldering at you asking how he can make up for his bad behaviour.

Jungkook

Only a man who’s spent his entire adult life cultivating the looks of a fuckboi and the persona of a babygirl would understand so deeply how something can be simultaneously true and untrue. Starts to apologise but then remembers how he was annoyed with you for letting that guy buy you a drink at a work do six months ago and then stands his ground. You both go to bed irritated. Eventually Seokjin and Yoongi intervene to tell you both not to be such idiots.

[cherryxkush]

risky business | pjm, jjk (m) | 1

synopsis: you’re a successful entrepreneur in the beauty industry and after your assistant/best friend sees the spread in Korea GQ magazine of a popular k-pop artist, she gets him on the first flight to California to start a sponsorship deal, and it was none other than the world-renowned fuckboy you met at a product launch party for Gucci two years ago.

pairing: jimin x female reader x jungkook

rating: mature (18+)

genre: enemies to lovers, love triangle, angst, fluff, smut

warnings/content: swearing, employer/client relationship, past situationship, fuckboy!jimin, celebrity!jimin, love triangle, tattoo artist!jungkook, jin is reader’s lawyer best friend

explicit content: varies between chapters, this one is reader x jungkook, protected sex (good job jk), oral sex (female receiving, but mentions of wanting to give a bj), slight hand/veins kink, multiple orgasms, missionary, doggy style, spanking, jk has a daddy kink, jk calls reader babygirl/princess

disclaimer: this is entirely a work of fiction, and in no way does it reflect thoughts or acts of bts in the real world (:

𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾: 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗑 𝗃𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗄𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒, 𝗃𝗂𝗆𝗂𝗇 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋. 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗂𝖾𝗌 ♡

Next chapter

“Please make sure you actually take off the lens filter before shooting this time,” you told your assistant and best friend, Naiya. You were already behind on shooting and editing the photos for your product line, and you couldn’t afford any more mishaps — otherwise the new launch would be late, and it wouldn’t just be your pay that you had to worry about.

“It was one time!” She rolled her eyes before double-checking that the lens filter actually was off, and then she started taking some photos of the models that were standing against the backdrop. Between each shot, she looked down at the electronic viewfinder on the camera, assessing what could be tweaked and what needed to stay.

She smiled at the models, telling them to take a 10 minute break before walking back over to you. “So, here are the shots so far,” The both of you looked at the screen as she pressed the button to proceed to the next photo, and you were genuinely impressed. “Some of these we can use. They’re great, aside from just a few things to edit. I can do that in post, of course — but, I do think we could use a high-profile male model.”

Your eyebrow rose in question, “High profile? You don’t think we have enough models already?”

“We have a good amount, sure, but finding someone famous will bring more exposure to the brand. Which leads to more inclusivity, more press, more deals — and more coin. Plus, you sell men’s skincare products too, so it’ll look even better for the optics,”

You were actually speechless. Partly because you hadn’t thought of it before (not even the head of your advertising department did, which is a shame), and partly because she was absolutely right. Getting someone with a lot of recognition to model for your beauty brand would create a massive amount of exposure for your business, and could finally land you a spot working with a brand you’ve dreamed of collaborating with since your teenage years.

You were successful in your industry, yes, and it took you a long time and a lot of hard work to get where you are, but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t strive to be even better within the industry. Following your passion came with sacrifices, and you weren’t about to let those dark times be for nothing.

But at the same time, this product line that you were about to put out was going to be the bread and butter of your business, so you needed it to be great. Almost perfect, even, and you didn’t know how long it would take to find someone to fit the bill, for the deal to work in both of your favors. It seemed like it was too risky.

You sighed, “Yeah, you’re right. It would really help and we could get tons of publicity from it, but it’s just cutting it too close, Nai. We can’t have this product launch be anything less than damn near perfect.” You walked over to a work desk that was in the studio, pulling out the chair and sitting down before stressfully running a hand through your hair. “I mean, who would I even reach out to? Would we have to do model calls again? The launch is in less than two months now,”

“Girl, look at these,” Naiya said as she walked over to you before plopping down on top of the desk and reaching over to grab her laptop. She took a sip of her drink, opening up the Adobe Photoshop application before turning her laptop towards you. “These are some of the finished shots from the other day. We didn’t even think we’d be able to finish editing these in time, and look how amazing they turned out,” She wasn’t lying — they were stunning.

“They’re beautiful,” you agreed and she beamed, proud of herself. She was your go-to for everything photo and video and she’d wanted to get into that scene long before she actually started, so she had a lot of knowledge and skin in the game in regard to what would look the best for the vision you were going for. She definitely had your back, but there were still some things you were unsure about business-wise, that neither of you were really familiar with. “You’re great at what you do, but what about the other stuff? Making a deal and all the legal things that go along with it? We’re not just talking about influencers that get a commission from sales here, you know?”

“You let me handle finding the person and closing the deal, you go talk to Jin about starting a contract and all the legal shit that goes with it.”

“Absolutely the fuck not.” Jin eyed you with a blank expression as he sat comfortably with his hands folded, judging you.

“What the hell do you mean?!” You exclaimed before turning to examine yourself in the mirror again. “This is cute!”

“You got asked out to dinner after being dry for like 2 years and you can’t do better than leggings and a sweater?”

You rolled your eyes. “First of all, this sweater was expensive,” You walked over to the rack inside your closet, grimacing at the idea of having to wear a dress or skirt. “Second of all, you just want your women to be as high maintenance as you.”

Jin laughed, “This is true, but you would definitely increase your chances of getting laid if you put in more effort,”

“Who says I’m trying to get laid?”

“Your attitude and the fact that you used one of my charging cables for your vibrator.” You felt your face heat up at Jin’s comment, and you wanted to proceed to crawl into a hole, lie in the fetal position, and stay there for eternity.

“I hate you,” you frowned and Jin smirked.

“I love you, too, and wear the black dress. It’ll suit you.”

You spotted the dress at the end of the rack. It was made of a sleek material, smooth silken fabric with mesh, tulle-like sleeves. You’d bought it about 2 years ago after an event in Los Angeles. It was nighttime and on the way back to the hotel, you walked passed the prettiest little boutique and fell in love with the dress immediately — but you never wore it.

You frowned, silently questioning if you could pull it off. It was a different time back then, one where you felt on top of the world and you thought you’d found someone that would sweep you off of your feet and you’d beam at seeing his glimmering eyes rake upon your beauty in the dress. But it didn’t happen that way. In fact, it didn’t happen at all.

In an effort to distract yourself from your thoughts, you decided to ask Jin about the modeling contract.

“Okay, fine, but there’s something I need to talk to you about first.”

“And what’s that?” He raised his eyebrow in question.

“So, you know how I’m releasing a new product line soon?”

He scoffed, “About damn time! Of course I’m already handsome, we all know this, but men need good skincare too,”

You rolled your eyes, “Hence the reason I’m putting out this line, Jin. Anyways, Naiya proposed the idea that we should have a high-profile male model, preferably someone really famous who can bring us a lot of publicity,”

“Okay, and did you find this person yet?”

“Naiya’s working on that. But I do need your help with creating a contract and all the legal shit that’s included,” You grabbed the dress off of the rack hesitantly.

He brought a hand up to his chin as if he were thinking before meeting your gaze. “Alright, say I do it. What do I get out of it?”

“Um...my love and support as your best friend?”

“Will love and support pay my bills?”

You glared at him, “No, but you sure do eat a lot of my food to not pay my grocery bill.”

He laughed nervously, bringing up a finger to rub at his temple, “Well played,”

“Will a full-size bottle of that serum you like be good enough?”

“Throw in those little eye patches too, I don’t care what anyone says about me for using them — my bags are horrendous these days.”

You laughed and Jin cracked a smile. “Deal.”

jungkook [8:31pm]: i’m outside pretty, buzz me up?

you hearted a message from jungkook

You happened to meet Jungkook about 2 months ago when you decided to get a tattoo for the first time. You were really excited about the journey you were on with your business and the woman you were becoming, so you decided to get a self love tattoo that really resonated with you, and Jungkook was your artist.

During your session you couldn’t stop ogling at him due to his good looks and his many, many tattoos — he boldly asked for your number afterwards and you gladly but shyly gave it to him. After talking for a couple months and your busy schedules finally coinciding, Jungkook had been adamant about taking you on a date.

You walked over to the buzzer next to the door of your luxury condo and pressed the button to let Jungkook through the downstairs entrance. Your heart fluttered at the fact that he chose to come all the way to the fifth floor of your building to come get you instead of asking you to meet him downstairs.

You heard a gentle knock before opening the door, meeting Jungkook’s gaze as he presented you with a bouquet of flowers.

You grinned with rosy cheeks, “Aren’t you the gentleman?”

“I try,” He smiled smugly.

“You definitely succeeded,” You walked over to put the flowers in a vase with some water before leaving out. “You really didn’t have to do all this, Jungkook. This is beyond sweet,”

“I meant it when I said I wanted to take you out and show you a good time,” He grabbed your hand as he met your eyes, just as you finished putting away the flowers. “Come on, we don’t wanna be late for our reservation.”

You blushed even harder. “Y-you made a reservation?”

“Of course, you’re too pretty for me not to,” He flashed you a grin before grabbing your hand and interlacing his fingers with yours, and you felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest.

The date went well. Jungkook had taken you to a restaurant that had really good food even though it was overpriced, and you liked the vibe of it. It was fancy, with the wait staff dressed in black-tie attire and you were happy that you went with the dress Seokjin suggested. Jungkook took every opportunity to compliment you and he didn’t just compliment your looks, but your conversation as well.

He’d also told you about his career as a tattoo artist and how he’d loved it, having opened up his own shop about a year prior, and you shared details about your journey into the beauty industry. It was almost endearing, the way that he talked about his job, and you felt the same way about yours. Although it could be really stressful, you couldn’t see yourself doing anything else, and you could tell Jungkook shared that with you. It was a connection beyond the physical attraction; it was mental, too, the way it seemed you both complimented each other.

Although, the physical attraction was definitely there.

He’d absentmindedly roll up his sleeves a bit showing his veiny arms as he focused on talking with you, his lip ring glinting in the moody lightning. It made you want to bite your lip, and you shuffled a bit in your seat, growing flustered at the sight of the man before you.

He was fully dressed, engaging in conversation, and you found yourself enamored with him, in awe even though he hadn’t even touched you. Seeing his dimples when he smirked made you want to whimper. Clock it to maybe the fact that you hadn’t been laid in a couple years, and Seokjin’s words had started to creep into your mind, but Jungkook had you hot and bothered without even trying.

“You okay there?” He smirked, not missing the pinkish tint to your cheeks.

Slightly startled because you’d been caught, you replied sheepishly before clearing your throat, “Y-yeah, I’m fine,”

He wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin after taking the last bite of his food and seeing that you were done with yours, suggested you both do something to wind down, but not end your date so soon.

“Do you wanna take a little walk in the city for a bit? I remembered you saying you hadn’t been to this part of town in a while,”

There go the stupid butterflies again.

You arrived outside of your apartment building, Jungkook skillfully parking his sleek car as close as he could to shorten the walk.

He turned off the engine, the both of you relaxing in each other’s presence before either of you decided to leave. He was mesmerizing, lax in nature yet attractively attentive and his scent drove you crazy; it was an earthy, musky scent, one that made your mouth water and your thighs instinctively rub together.

His eye contact sent a delicious chill down your spine, and you missed the burn that his lips left on your hand after giving it a gentle kiss.

Instead of kissing your hand you wanted him to kiss other places, and suddenly his spacious car became too cramped and stuffy for your liking.

To put it plainly, you wanted him out of the car and in your bed. And even though you were shy as hell, this was one opportunity you definitely didn’t want to let pass you by.

You blinked at him, trying to steady your breath before speaking, but it still came out a little bit more breathy than you’d like, and unbeknownst to you, made Jungkook’s dick jump in his pants. “Would you want to come up?”

His eyes went wide with surprise before he tried to shake it off. He cleared his throat, not expecting you to ask, but he took you up on the offer.

In usual Jungkook fashion, he smirked. “Lead the way, Princess.”

You took the elevator up to your condo, hastily putting in your key once you got to your door. You stepped in, taking off your jacket and offering to hang up Jungkook’s.

He closed the door quietly before pinning you against it, his face dangerously close to yours.

His voice was just above a whisper, thick and gravelly. His gaze switched back and forth from your eyes to your lips, and he absentmindedly brought his tongue out to wet his own. “Let me make this clear, do you want this? Because I do,”

You swallowed thickly, already feeling desire pooling in the pit of your stomach at the hold that Jungkook had on you right now. You couldn’t help but nod to answer him, not finding the strength to use your voice. Jungkook wasn’t too happy about that.

“Use your words, baby,” He moved to your ear before dipping just below it to leave a kiss there, a kiss that added to the fuel that was already him hovering over you like this.

“Y-Yes,” you croaked. “I want it,”

“Want what?” He probed, chuckling softly as he continued to pepper kisses along your skin, slowly moving from your ear and down your neck. He could feel you shifting, your thighs squeezing together to give yourself some relief. “If you want more, you gotta use that pretty mouth of yours and tell me,”

He kissed a particular spot that made you gasp softly and offer more of your neck to him. He sucked on the spot, making you whimper and flutter your eyes closed before he pulled away entirely.

You frowned out of disappointment and opened your eyes to see his smug face, lips curled into an amused smirk. There was a glint in his eyes that made your mouth run dry.

“If you don’t want to use your words, I can’t help you, and by the looks of it, I think you want me to,” He bit his lip as he surveyed you, looking you up and down and your tongue came out to wet your lips, “But consent is important, and I need to know if you want it too, and that I’m not reading this wrong,”

You struggled to meet his eyes, simultaneously wanting to crawl into a hole and crawl under him, having him hover over you with his silver chain dangling in your face. You managed to find the courage, though, and the butterflies turned into searing-hot sparks.

“Y-you’re not reading it wrong, I want you, Jungkook. I want you to touch me,”

He cockily grinned at you before closing the gap between the two of you, “Thought you’d never ask.”

He brought his lips to yours, sending all of your nerve endings on fire and creating a heat that pooled in the pit of your stomach. He grabbed the back of your neck roughly before his fingers found themselves in your hair and he tugged slightly on the strands, causing you to moan.

“Oh, she likes that, huh?” He slid his hand down your body before toying with the hem of your dress. “You look so pretty with this on,”

“It would look prettier off,” You quipped, bothered that he wasn’t where you needed him to be.

“Someone’s eager,” he chuckled deeply before dragging his fingers upwards, letting you feel the rough pads of his fingertips on the skin of your thighs. He lightly grabbed the bottom of your dress before pulling it up to your hips. He traced the fabric of your thong with his finger, “Cute,” he said, distracting you a bit from his hands before he firmly pressed a thumb on your clit over your underwear, rubbing in small circles.

“Fuck,” you whispered, throwing your head back against the door, relishing in his touch. You started grinding against his hand, desperate for relief, and he didn’t hesitate to call you out on it.

“So fucking needy,” he growled, and you felt an electrifying jolt run through your body again. He rubbed harder and you gasped, rolling your eyes back. “I barely touched you and you’re already soaking through your panties.”

You brought your hand up to rake your manicured nails along his scalp before pulling, earning a grunt of approval from him. You smashed your lips onto his in fervor and he grunted, opening his mouth to allow you entrance and your tongues battled for dominance. He held you closer, cupping your scantily clad ass in his big, veiny hands before slapping your ass hard. You let out a small, surprised yelp before relishing and moaning at the sting.

He did it again but harder, and you were positive you were in fact dripping down your legs at this point.

You pecked him a couple of times before grabbing his hand and leading him after you. “Room. Now.”

Once you got to your room, Jungkook proceeded to turn you around to face him and continued kissing you, bringing up a hand to cup your face.

He walked you backwards and when the backs of your heels reached the frame, he pushed you onto the bed.

He stood over you, skilled hands working at undoing his belt and you could see how hard he was. Throwing your head back, your hands reached your clothed breasts and began to fondle them, fingertips enclosing and twisting your nipples, and Jungkook’s mouth watered at the sight.

His belt flew to the floor somewhere and he grabbed the back of your calves to pull you closer to him at the edge of the bed. Your dress was covering too much, he decided.

“Take your dress off, babygirl, unless you want me to rip it.”

You almost moaned at his words. The dress flew somewhere too, and you lie in front of him, clothed in nothing but your thong, tits on full display.

He licked his lips and as you saw his face coming toward you, you could’ve sworn it would’ve been to take one of your tits in his mouth, but he placed a kiss above your belly button. And you shivered as you saw that he kept going lower.

He peppered soft, slow pecks along your skin until he was face to face with the source of your wetness, and Jungkook leaned in to lick a strip on the material of your panties. Your hands fisted the blanket as he teased you at an agonizingly slow pace, moving his tongue anywhere but the place you actually needed him, making you squirm.

He hooked his fingers underneath your underwear before ripping it off of you, the frail piece of lace no match for his strength as it tore.

“Will just have to buy you another pair.” He winked before kissing you again, but this time right above your clit, his breath warm and his touch sending you into overdrive.

You spread your legs for him eagerly and his long fingers spread your lips, stopping to admire you. You self-consciously had half a mind to close them as he gazed upon your lower half, but he held them open and finally licked a strip from your hole to your clit.

“S-shit,” you moaned as he held you open, his tongue meeting your clit as he swirled it in tight circles before giving it a hard suck. “Fuck!”

“Mmm,” He moaned against you, causing you to shiver again, hips bucking into his mouth. “You taste good, gonna make you cum on my tongue first.”

He lapped at you like you were the dessert he craved but never had, as if you were the best thing he’d ever taste. He licked at you, flattening his tongue before circling your clit again, and you had to try your best not to scream.

And you didn’t scream, until he started sucking on your clit again.

“Fucking shit, ‘Kook,” You moaned loudly and he hummed at the nickname. You had never been eaten out this good before, and you were so close to cumming on his tongue in so short of a time that you were almost embarrassed.

One of his fingers teased against your hole before diving in, and your toes curled before he added another. “Gotta stretch you out,” He mumbled against your pussy before swirling his tongue again. He curled his fingers expertly, reaching the spongey part within you that made tears prick your eyes from the pleasure.

You arched your back, hips leading away from his mouth before he tightened his grip around them with his other hand and held you so close you were worried you’d suffocate him.

He made eye contact with you and it had you feeling like you were going to combust. You reached down to tangle your fingers into his hair and he created a faster pace with his digits, darting in and out of you so quickly that you were sure you’d cum in 5 minutes flat.

His let go of your hip to rub your clit as his tongue took a break, and the coil in your stomach tightened even more, tears rolling down your face at how good he was making you feel.

“Look at how well that pussy takes my fingers,” he mused, “Fuck, you’re so pretty,”

Your pussy tightened around his fingers and he slapped your clit lightly, “Fuck, yes!” you were shouting, and it made his heart swell at the pleasure he was giving you. He wanted to make you cum hard, and fuck if he wasn’t gonna taste it. He wanted all of you.

“I’m so close,” you said all breathy, your vocal cords nearly strained, and you had so much more to go. Jungkook’s goal was to make sure you couldn’t walk the next day.

“Cum for me, pretty,” He rasped, before sucking on your clit hard, and watching you come undone on his tongue.

“I-I’m gonna cum, I’m — Jungkook!”

He hummed as he lapped up your juices, tasting you as he let you ride out your high and when you came down from it, you thought he’d give you a break. But he wasn’t done.

He stood up and brought his fingers up to his mouth, sucking them to get every last bit of you off of them. He leaned in to hover over you and kiss you, your tongue colliding with his as you tasted yourself. To your surprise, it only seemed to make you wetter.

He took off his boxers, cock springing up to slap against his stomach. It was leaky, the tip oozing precum and you wanted so badly to have him in your mouth but when you’d suggested it, he declined and you pouted.

He grabbed a condom from you don’t even know where and ripped it with his teeth before rolling it on. “Uh-uh, tonight’s about you. You can take care of me another time, babygirl,” He said before winking at you and pumping himself a couple times before lining himself up with your entrance.

He grabbed your legs by your ankles and put them over his shoulder, pushing into you and you mewled at the stretch. He stopped to let you get acclimated to the size and waited until you gave him a nod to continue before backing out of you and snapping his hips in a pace that was so rough and so fast it damn near knocked the wind out of you.

You screamed so loud that were sure your neighbors would hate you, but you didn’t care, not one bit.

“S-Shit, your cock is so good,” He groaned as he continued his pace while you were clutching the blanket so hard your knuckles were turning white. “Do it again,”

He snapped his hips into you again, hitting your cervix. “Babygirl likes that, huh? You like when I slam my cock into you?”

“F-fuck, yeah, I l-love it,”

“How is your pussy still so tight after fucking you with my fingers like that,” He was gritting his teeth, trying not to empty his load into you already. He can usually hold out but your pussy was too good, so slick and tight and sucking him in.

You clenched purposefully and giggled and he groaned, damn near having to stop to pace himself because of you. Nonetheless he kept going, and he was determined to wreck your pussy and make you crave him afterwards.

He grabbed your legs and pushed so you were bent at the knees and you were holding them in place. Then he started speeding up again, snapping his hips into you and you were seeing stars.

“Fuuuuck, J-“

“Say my name baby, who’s fucking you this good?”

“You are, J-Jungkook, fuck,” you threw your head back into the pillows, eyes rolling back and toes curling.

He was holding onto you so tight, thrusting into you so hard he was going to leave pretty little bruises for you to remember the night by.

“Your pussy is s-so good,” He reached down to rub your clit, and you arched your back again, clenching around him and he moaned. “W-wanna fuck you in doggy before I make you cum again,”

He slid out of you, leaving you feeling empty and missing his warmth before he helped you turn over, positioning you face down, ass up.

He smacked your ass with force and you whimpered at the sting before wiggling your bum and teasing him so he’d do it again.

He did it harder this time and the pain had you gritting your teeth, but it sent a delicious chill along your veins that was intoxicating, and you wanted more.

He lined himself up at your entrance again and as you felt him lined up perfectly, his head peaking at your hole, you slammed back against him, ass meeting his pelvis as he bottomed out. You moaned into the blanket, grabbing fistfuls of it.

“Fuck!” He yelled, eyes rolling back and you felt the coil winding up again at him being vocal. “Babygirl wants back shots from Daddy, yeah? If you wanted me to drill you, Princess, all you had to do was ask.”

Oh shit.

Ohhhh shit.

He pulled almost all the way out of you before snapping his hips again, bottoming out and hitting your cervix so good your toes curled and your back arched so much you knew you’d be sore afterwards.

He continued his relentless pace and you met his thrusts, his balls slapping delectably against your clit and you moaned pornographically in response.

He reached forward to grab your hair and pull you up so that your back met his chest, and the burn made fire ignite in your belly, so much so that the coil was going to snap any second now.

It was too much and not enough all at once. You wanted more and more of whatever he was willing to give you, you wanted to be so drunk on his dick that you forgot your own name.

He reached down to rub circles on your clit and that’s when you lost it.

“J-Jungkook, I’m cumming!” You creamed on his cock with a cry and a shake, quaking from the sheer amount of pleasure of your orgasm. He coaxed you through it as you rode out your high, his fingers still playing with your clit as he rubbed it just the way you liked.

He led you down to the bed, gently as he slowed his pace inside you. “I’m almost there, Princess. Daddy’s gonna cum for you,”

You moaned loudly, leaking even more at the name. You loved how vocal he was and how sexy he made you feel. It was addicting.

And to try to repay him for how good he made you feel, you managed to have the strength to throw your ass onto him, hard, to get him to cum. You wanted his load in you.

“F-fuck baby, I really will cum if you keep doing that,” He bit his lip, toying with the ring and you were glad you had turned around slightly in time to see it. When you faced back forward, Jungkook was in for a treat.

You pushed back with force, arching your back so well that he hit the right spots all while clenching your pussy like you wanted to milk him and he loved it.

“S-Shit, baby, I’m gonna cum,”

“Cum for me Daddy,” you said with a sensual tone, one that had his eyes rolling back into his head as your ass met his hips one last time before spilling his load into the condom.

He came with a hiss and holding onto your hips for dear life. You were sure to have marks tomorrow, and neither of you were mad about it.

After coming down from his post-orgasm high, he gently pulled out of you before proceeding to take off the condom and tie a knot before throwing it away in the bathroom connected to your room.

He was rummaging in there for what seemed like a tad bit too long, and you were puzzled although you were too tired to see what he was doing. You heard the sink run for a few seconds before being turned off, and then you saw him come out of the bathroom, damp towel in hand.

“Sorry about that,” He smiled sheepishly. “I wanted to get something to clean you up,” He gently wiped your juices from your body. It was relaxing and gentle, soothing you. You smiled in appreciation before thanking him, grinning as you met his eyes.

“Still the gentleman,” He winked, sending butterflies roaming around your stomach again. It was becoming a regular thing with Jungkook, and you liked it.

“I try,” He laughed and you threw a pillow at him while laughing too.

You got up to go pee before changing into some underwear and a loosely fitted t-shirt. You glanced at the clock and saw that it said 3 am before turning off the lights and climbing into bed, Jungkook cuddling up next to you and you laid your head on his chest.

The light coming from your phone was bright as it flashed and you heard the familiar tone of an incoming iMessage, but you chose to ignore it, as Jungkook was too warm and this was the best you’d felt in a long time.

You were in for a big surprise tomorrow, but for now, as comfy and giddy as you were, maybe you could get used to having Jungkook around.

2 unread messages

naiyaaa [3:02am]: srry i know it’s hella late, i fell asleep at like 7 while watching my show lmao

naiyaaa [3:02am]: just wanted to tell u i got somebody to model for u!! it’s park jimin, he’s super famous in south korea bitch. we going worldwideee

author’s note: 𝖺𝗁𝗁𝗁!! 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗒 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝖿𝗂𝖼 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖼𝖺𝗇’𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗂𝖾𝗏𝖾 𝗂𝗍 ����𝗈𝗅. 𝗂 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝗅𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 & 𝗋𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀 𝗂𝖿 𝗌𝗈, 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 <3 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗈𝗈𝗇 ♡

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[lxvemaze]

Hi my love, i just saw the tall reader x skz and can you also do tall reader x ateez hcs please 🙏 they heal me hahaha

ahhh absolutely!!! i loved writing the skz ones!! hope you like these<3

ateez with a tall!s/o

pairing' ot8 x reader

genre' fluff

warnings' wee bit suggestive in wooyoungs

a/n' i felt silly

⚝hongjoong

he don't give a FUUUUUUUCK. your height difference was never something he took into consideration. even when you first started dating, he just didn't really think about it. that being said; if anyone ever tries to make fun of your height difference, he will shut it down IMMEDIATELYYYYYYY. you will not get a single second to be insecure about your height, bc he will always let you know how much he loves you 😚 doesn't matter how much shorter than you he is, he will always be big spoon. he wants you to know that he will always take care of and love you, no matter what comments or looks you guys get from others.

⚝seonghwa

while hongjoong doesn't really care, seonghwa LOOOOVES your height. he is sososo obsessed with you. he treats you like an actual angel. he will do anything and everything you ask of him. anytime anyone's like "lol your girlfriend's taller than you" he's like "yeah she is (●´ω｀●)" just absolutely enamored. he loves it when you wear heels so he has to crane his neck a bit to make eye contact with you. makes him all giggly :3 sometimes you two will be standing somewhere maybe in like, a line at a coffee shop or smth, and you'll look over to him and he's just staring up at you with the biggest heart eyes. he is just so in love.

⚝yunho

bro was absolutely SHOCKED when he first met you. he's already really tall, so meeting a girl that was taller than him???? made him feel all nervous and silly. when you first met, he probably didn't know if he was scared of you or really into you. you probably asked him out first bc you made him too nervous 🥹 in a relationship, he's probably soooo proud that his girlfriend is taller than him- like, he's just astonished that he bagged a taller girl in the first place. bro may be the sweetest boy in the world, but if anyone makes a negative comment about your height, he will FIGHT. no one can comment on his tall queen ☝️

⚝yeosang

yeosang sees you as the single most beautiful person in the world. he absolutely loves the fact that you're taller than him. this man is the biggest little spoon in the world- he loves being cuddled by you and feeling all safe and secure. tbh, i honestly think that your height was one of the first things about you that he was attracted to, and i don't think he expected that at first, but he's literally obsessed with you.

⚝san

i've said it before, and i'll say it again; san is the single most respectful and loving man on the planet. i don't think he ever expected to be into a taller girl, i think he always pictured himself with a girl shorter than him, but after he met you, all those thoughts of being with a shorter girl went straight out the window. as soon as he met you, he was obsessed with you and your height. literally refuses to let you be insecure. anytime you say one thing even slightly self-deprecating about your height, he will give you ten separate reasons why he loves your height.

⚝mingi

bro was whipped as soon as he met you. mingi may act like a freaky deaky fuckboy sometimes, but he is a loverboy at heart, ya'll. when you first met, he tried to act all cool and suave to impress you, but you saw right through him 😭 he's just so silly around you. he knows what it's like to be tall and that when you're tall, people see you as a lot scarier than you are, and he realizes that it's probably even worse for you being as tall of a girl as you are. so he tries his best to be as soft as possible, and treat you like a princess. will fight you so he can be the big spoon. he just likes to cuddle you and make you feel safe :3

⚝wooyoung

oh, you already know babygirl loves it. we already know that he likes to get bossed around 💀 so you being taller than him is really just the icing on the cake. absolutely obsessed with you. whenever you two are walking in public together, he will be attached to your arm the entire time with that smug grin on his face. he absolutely loves when he introduces you to people, and they're just kind of in shock at your height. side note- he loves reaching up to grab your face and pull you down into a kiss (◍•ᴗ•◍) he also loves to play fight with you, like, wrestle with you. and then pinning you down to show you that just bc you're taller than him and act like you're the lead in public doesn't mean that he won't put you in your place in private WHOOPS (he is never beating the 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴 allegations)

⚝jongho

real morticia and gomez vibes in this relationship. he literally worships you. he absolutely loves it when you wear heels omg, he just loves it when you embrace your height. he likes to buy you beautiful expensive heels and dresses and take you out for fancy dinners and show you off 😋 he's just so in love with you, literally no comment that anyone could make would make him think twice about how he loves your height difference. he likes to have a hand on your waist, or have you hold his arm when you're in public. bro loves his tall queen to the end of time and wants everyone to know that you're his💪

[sixofpomegranates]

Most of them are Eddie Munson fics since I am going through some severe brain rot because of this spicy golden retriever. Also, how dark shall my recommendations go? I surely have some dark taste in smut but keep it mostly calm for you. Let me know!

The order is random and not indicative of how much I liked them. There is no ranking, just sharing some really good pieces of work so we can all enjoy it!

13 Recommendations || 🐇 = My opinion. || Pink Color = SMUT

Ghostin’ (series) by @munson-blurbs

�� Summary: Before dying in the Upside Down, Eddie asks Steve to take care of you. The grief coupled with your burgeoning feelings for one another may be too much for you to handle, especially when you get some shocking news.

🐇: Holy shit. This is one of the most impressive pieces of fanfiction I have ever read. It's— I feel speechless and like telling you the entire plot at the same time. It ties in with canon so perfectly, I would legit accept it as my Season 5. This is amazing. I cried, laughed, and am unreasonably invested. No shit. If you only ever read one fanfiction of my recommended ones, it needs to be this! || Still ongoing / Steve Harrington x f!Reader

You, Me, & Steve (one-shot) by @lis-likes-fics

➢ No Summary, so just listen to me describe it: Okay, so, Reader and Eddie are a couple and lately Eddie brings Steve along to everything, causing Reader to think he wants to be with Steve. Turns out our Babygirl is bicurious and Eddie offered that he and Reader be Steve’s first bi experience should she be up for it. She is. Here are the warnings or how I like to call it shopping list: smut, face riding, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, deepthroating, praise kink, daddy kink, gay sex, I'm not saying Steve's a sub but Steve's a sub, bottom!Steve, top!Eddie, switch?reader, overstimulation, threesome...

🐇: Listen: I read this fic a couple of months ago and LOST it! I couldn't find it anymore! BUT the way Reader and Eddie gave me MASSIVE bi-panic stuck in my head. THIS is one of my top Eddie x Steve x Reader fics... asdfghjkl. Do yourself a favor and read this kinky piece of porn.

helping hands. (one-shot) by @daddyreid

➢ Summary: you and steve are having some trouble getting you to fit him, so he takes you to his friend eddie, who is happy to help.

🐇: I love when things have vibes. And this had vibes. I would read an entire series like this. It’s a very good one-shot. daddy!steve harrington & dom!eddie. That's it. That's all I have to say. I also have a daddy kink so... Yeah.

Bad Idea (one-shot) by @lunarzstarz

➢ Summary: Not wanting to leave for college with your virginity still intact, you turn to your last resort that you know can only end terribly…

🐇: Fuckboy!Eddie can ruin my life. I am in pain but very pleased. I– This– He– The things he said... 💳💥💳💥 // Just read that there will be more parts and I– I just– YES?! This is so good.

as long as you need (one-shot) by @lilacletter

➢ Summary: your hang out with eddie takes a different turn when you confess something big to him. your ex wouldn’t make you cum because he thought you took too long to finish. eddie's reaction of shock and disbelief is the last thing you were expecting. you feel embarrassed for a moment but lucky for you, eddie has a lot of patience and a hidden desire to take care of you.

🐇: Wow. I loved this so much. So sweet. So smutty. So dorky. So perfect. 10/10. Bestfriend!Eddie & friends to lovers have my whole heart.

It's About Time (one-shot) by @eddiethefreakkmunson

➢ Summary: You and your best friend Eddie decide it's time to lose your virginity to each other, after all who is a better choice than the person you love more than anyone else in the world?

🐇: This was so sweet! I have such a weak spot for these tropes! Not to mention that Eddie is so soft through all of this. 100% boyfriend material.

the freak pirate and the slut princess (one-shot) by @mypoisonedvine

➢ Summary: halloween is that special night where you can be anything you want to be... maybe more than the labels everyone else gives you. maybe even more than 'just friends'. (aka, reader has a reputation, eddie's still a virgin, filth ensues)

🐇: This fic lives in my head rent-free. My brain chemistry got rearranged. Get your dose of friends to lovers & virgin!Eddie here! You won't regret it.

I´ll Paint You Mornings Of Gold (one-shot) by @shamevillain

➢ Summary: You’re the most special thing Eddie has in his life, he just wants to make sure you know it.

🐇: Labyrinth aka my favorite movie, spaghetti as candles, Eddie being so in love and high on sugar... Perfection.

Only Lonely (one-shot) by @shamevillain

➢ Summary: Rumors about Eddie Munson have run rampant as long as you can remember. You’ve crossed paths only briefly, but maybe the notorious freak of Hawkins isn’t as bad as you’ve come to believe.

🐇: YOU HAVE TO READ THIS! I lost it a while ago and finding it again was like discovering the lost city of Atlantis for me! The smut rearranged my brain chemistry. I am foaming at the mouth, that how good it was. And Eddie was perfect! Goofy, hot, sweet... 10/10. Seriously. Read it.

—✨The one's that follow are solely Omegaverse—A/O/B one-shots. I have fallen down the Omegaverse – Rabbit Hole. Didn't see myself interested in this. Yet, here I am. Don't judge me. Seriously. I’ll block you.✨—

it happened one night in detention (one-shot) by @mypoisonedvine

➢ Summary: eddie's chances of being an alpha are quite small. your chances of presenting as an omega, especially while still in high school, are almost none. almost.

🐇: I guess it has to do with my size kink and the fact that I am the most submissive bottom you've ever seen, but this? ↑THIS↑ is my jam. // edit: I read the book Heat Haven by Sarah Blue after this on Kindle Unlimited, and yeah, I am still into this. So into this.

I Heard Your Voice and it Carries Me (one-shot) by @cha0ticspacebi

➢ Summary: Like 91% of the population, you were now and would always be a beta. Except when your roommate moves out suddenly and fate connects you with Alpha Eddie Munson. After that, things start to change.

🐇: Don't look at me 🫣! I already told you I fell down a rabbit hole! This was so cute & fluffy, and the well-developed worldbuilding in this one-shot is so good. Don't judge me!

little glass doves (one-shot) by @mysticmunson

➢ No Summary, so enjoy my attempt to describe it: Alpha!Eddie and Omega!Reader are already a couple and recently both presented. Their friends are keeping them now at distance since... Hormones, Ya know?

🐇: No smut, just hinting. But it's so cute.

between four walls (one-shot) by @mysticmunson

➢ Summary: when you disappear from school for a few days, eddie is a bit bewildered, until he has a sneaking suspicion.

🐇: I hope this author never stops feeding my alpha!eddie addiction. This is the spicy brother of “little glass doves.” Stunning.

To the writers of these fics:

[eleganzadellarosa]

Bad Reputation

pairing: fuckboy!kyungsoo x fem!reader

genre: SMUT (an unhealthy amount but I’m not sorry), would you call this enemies to lovers?

summary: A bet with the school fuckboy has you going back to your old ways.

warnings: MDNI (threesome, unprotected sex (wrap it up immediately 👀), oral (m and f receiving), squirting, slight mean/cocky dom kyungsoo, choking, overstimulation, orgasm denial, pussy slapping, daddy kink, name calling)

word count: 5.78K

A/N: Anon requested! This was very fun to write and I incorporated the threesome in a different way? I hope you enjoy it!

taglist: @sleepingbeautydo (🥺🫶)

He was well known around campus.

For his good looks and fuckboy antics.

Just looking at him you would never guess though and that’s probably how it all started. At first you just knew about him from hearsay, but then you had a class with him and saw firsthand how he would flirt with every girl he found attractive and how they would immediately fold.

You couldn’t help but scoff seeing him wrap an arm around one girl’s shoulder and whisper something in her ear that made her giggle. Or how his hand rubbed dangerously high on the thigh of another girl minutes later. You weren’t sure how every girl saw this but still ended up bent over in his dorm room that same night.

It’s not that you didn’t find him attractive either, because you did, you just hated his cocky attitude. He’s also never bothered you, so you guess you didn’t make his “attractive list”. It didn’t upset you since you’d rather have someone who liked you AND didn’t try to fuck the whole campus.

“Okay class, see you next week for finals. Make sure you’re ready, study study study!”

The teacher tapped on the board with the dry erase marker to add extra emphasis to the last part. Your grades were good thankfully so you didn’t have much to worry about. Now that you thought about it, how was he passing this class? Maybe he was a lot smarter than he looked given that this class was not for people who skipped out on studying.

“Hey girl, you think you could help me study this weekend? I think I got it but I wanna have someone quiz me to make sure.”

Your friend from class. You weren’t extremely close but you always helped each other whenever in pertained to homework or exams. You nodded with an “of course” and finished stuffing the rest of your things in your backpack. There was a pair of eyes on you, staring you down ever since your friend came up to you. You were afraid to look back but you’ve never been one to back down.

Sure enough, the pair of eyes boring holes into you belong to Kyungsoo. What the hell was he staring at and why now out of all days?

“Is there something I can help you with?” Your left eyebrow stood tall in confusion and a hand landed to rest on your hip.

“Is staring bad sweetheart? You say it like it’s a bad thing.”

Ugh there’s that stupid overconfidence. “Um actually yes, staring is bad. Did your mother never teach you that? Seems there’s a lot she didn’t teach you…” you trailed off and whispered under your breath when you spoke the end of your sentence.

He scoffed and stood from his seat, making his way over to you. When he reached the space in front of you, he eyed you down curiously. “Hmm, not bad.”

Again, you were confused but nothing he did ever made much sense. “Care to explain why you’re in my personal space?” Your arms were folded against your chest as you tapped your foot, waiting for a reply.

“Ooo feisty little thing aren’t you? You don’t have to be so mean to me babygirl.” He feigned a pout and tapped your chin with his index finger before you swatted it away. “To answer your question, you just caught my eye so I wanted a closer look.”

“Oh, because you flirted with every other girl in class and I’m the only one who doesn’t care?” You rolled your eyes and he chuckled darkly.

“Trust me, if I wanted you to fall for me, I could easily do it.”

A smug look painted your face. “I don’t think overconfidence is cute, so with that being said, you’re overestimating your so called abilities.”

He smiled, tongue in cheek. “Is that a challenge?” He leaned in, hands on either side of you on your desk, his breath ghosting over your lips.

Unfortunately that move had you swooning just a tad but you weren’t going to let him know that. Your stubborn attitude was going to get you in trouble one day and maybe it was today. “Bet. You have two weeks. We’ll see just how desperate you get when you see I’m not falling for any of it.”

He wrapped a hand around your waist and caressed your cheek, his mouth coming down to whisper in your ear, “If there’s anyone being desperate, it’s going to be you begging me to get this dick deeper inside of you. Can’t wait to see it, I’d love to see you beg.” He walked away looking triumphant and made sure to pat your butt.

He wasn’t going to win, you weren’t going to let him.

The rest of the week went by unbothered so for you to have forgotten the bet you made with the bold boy, is not surprising. It wasn’t until he came up and wrapped an arm around your waist and planted a kiss on your cheek that you were snatched back to the reality of it all.

“Ugh what the hell?” You quickly wipe your cheek on the back of your sleeve. A look of disgust showing through how you stuck out your tongue and gagged.

He stood in front of you now and watched you closely before squinting and crossing his arms. "Well someone definitely didn't get much sleep last night."

You gasped and squished your cheeks in your hands. You thought two layers of concealer would do the trick but you also didn't expect for someone to be so close they could practically see your pores. "Kyungsoo please fuck off, I don't have time for this."

"Aww but I was going to offer to get you a coffee. Help you wake up before the exam later."

You rolled your eyes and looked at him with a deadpan expression. "Don't you have one of your other hoes you could be bothering? I need to go sit for a while and maybe close my eyes before I pass out."

"I could" he said with a click of his tongue "But I'd rather be bothering you right now. And don't talk about my "hoes" as if you're not going to be one of them soon."

At that you let out a hearty laugh. "You're so stupid, I forgot about this stupid bet since you didn't do anything this whole week and now you only have a week left which is nowhere near enough time to get me to even want to kiss you."

He draped an arm over your shoulder and pulled you in close, not having enough strength to fight back. "Baby you still don't understand. I know exactly what I'm doing and when I have you gagging, I'll try not to say 'I told you so' okay?"

You annoyingly shook him off of you and turned to face him. “What makes you SO sure that I’d be attracted to you at all?”

“Because if I were to do this” he grabbed your hand and kissed up your arm, “your breathing stops. The same way it did last week when I got close to you.”

Your face flushed with embarrassment. He wasn’t wrong and you hated that you had that reaction for him but it was his fault for not being ugly. If the situation was different and he was as sweet and nice as he looked, you’d give him a chance.

“Anyway, I’m officially inviting you to Cam’s party this weekend and you can’t say you’ll be busy because finals are today.”

“I never said I wanted to go to Cam’s party but I appreciate the invite.”

“Don’t be such a party pooper and come hang!” He grabbed your hand and rubbed a thumb over the soft skin. “Wear something irresistible too, I wanna be desperate.”

He was unbearable but admittedly he did have some charm to him. You were also curious what Cam’s party was going to be like since you’ve never been to one because apparently they were “invite only”. You didn’t care enough to try to get invited but it would be nice to relax and party after having such a stressful semester.

“Okay fine, I’ll come but don’t think that changes anything.”

He smiled, quickly grabbing your phone and holding it up to your face to unlock it. “Here, now you have my number and you can call or text me whenever you’d like.” He shot you a wink and handed you back your phone. “Don’t say you won’t call or text me either because I know you will.”

He walked away, not giving you a chance to say anything. Maybe he would win this bet, he already had you going to a party you didn’t give two fucks about 5 minutes ago.

“Girl why won’t you just fuck him? Everyone else has and they say he’s AMAZING in bed.” Your friend sat on the opposite end of your bed, concentrating on painting your toenails.

“Exactly my point, the fuck? Why would I want to fuck THE fuckboy? I’m not trying to do that and then catch feelings just for him to leave me for the next girl and then hit me up whenever he wants to take me to pound town.”

You stretched your hand out in front of you to check your work, making sure it looked just right before curing your nails under the UV light.

“Okay so you do think you’d catch feelings? Your pussy probably looks like a raisin because you never get dicked down anymore. You used to be a "hot girl", what happened to her?"

She was right. You had your hoe phase in your freshman year that trickled down from your senior year of high school but you didn't want to be known around school for that, so you vowed to change. And change you did. You planned on reviving that side of you just a bit for the party tomorrow, you were kind of interested in seeing if you were still capable of being irresistible. If he wanted a challenge, you would give it to him especially if it meant being able to prove your point.

"She's not me anymore and I'm not really trying to go back to being her. I want a boyfriend, not the whole school. But if you must know, I aim to be her tomorrow. See what kind of results I can get; see if I still got it."

"Pfft, bitch you never lost it, you just don't act on it. If I was a guy, I'd eat you out right now." She stuck her tongue out and closed her eyes as if she was tasting something delicious. You swatted at her arm and she chuckled. She went back to painting your nails before speaking up again. "If you do fuck him, can I have your pink bra with the sparkles on it and have the pleasure of saying I knew it?"

You raised your leg as if you were going to kick her in the shoulder. "Babes, I'm really going to need you to stop acting like I'm going to fold so quickly. I have no intentions on fucking him at all. Yes, he's attractive but again, I don't want someone that acts like the old me."

She clicked her tongue as she admired the finished product. "Well I don't think you're weak, I just don't think it's going to work out the way you think it will, but we'll see." She pressed her lips together and raised her brows.

You wiggled your toes and took another look at your fingers. "I promise if you're right, I'll kiss you and give you my bra." You rolled your eyes and smiled when she smiled seductively. "Oh yeah, do you know how far Cam's house is from here?"

"Girl I've never been to that man's house a day in my life. Don't you have the address, just put it in your maps."

Oh shit, you don't have the address. That cheeky fucker was right, you'd have to text him for something. You couldn't help but laugh in disbelief, he most likely planned it out just so he could rub it in your face. You took out your phone and searched for his number, not knowing what he saved himself as. A look of disgust showed when you see he was saved as "Daddy 🍆💧". He was so fucking annoying and it made your blood boil.

You: First off, ew. I'm changing your name immediately. And...I need Cam's addy.

He quickly read the message and it took him no time to reply.

Daddy 🍆💧: Oh look who sent Daddy a text.

Daddy 🍆💧: Don't change it, you're gonna wanna change it back tomorrow.

Daddy🍆💧: Here

He shared the contact card for Cam which contained all the information you needed and then some.

Daddy 🍆💧: Can't wait to see what you wear tomorrow 😍

You wanted to scrape your eyes out of your head. He made your skin crawl and you wanted to vomit. He was so cringey, how the fuck was he gathering up these girls like Pokemon? It didn't matter, you were confident you weren't going to be added to that list.

Luckily for you, Cam's house was a 10 minute walk from your dorms, nothing you couldn't handle. You looked in the mirror one last time. A black tube top, tortoise patterned asymmetrical skirt and black lace up sandals. You did look hot, maybe a little too hot. But that's what you wanted, you wanted to walk through the door and all eyes be on you. So when you knocked on the door and Cam answered it, immediately eyeing you up and down, you knew you succeeded.

"No fucking way...Kyungsoo, your "girl" is here!" He shouted behind him while keeping his eyes scanning your body, landing specifically on your exposed thighs.

Kyungsoo worked his way through the crowd, trying to get to the front door without having to stop and greet people. He finally made it, eyes growing in size when he saw you standing in the doorway. He didn't doubt it, but holy fuck did you clean up nicely. You were far from ugly but this was a whole new side to you that he never expected to see. He grabbed your hand, mouth still agape, and raised your arm above you making you do a spin.

"Oh my...I could cum right now just looking at you..." He couldn't stop spinning you to see angles he's already seen. He bit his lip and gave an approving nod. "Fair play. You really did come looking hot enough to make me desperate." He pulled you in by the waist and whispered in your ear, "But I'm still going to win this bet."

He shot you a wink and walked away with a group of friends, off to do whatever college boys do. You finally took in your surroundings, not having much time to do so while you were being ogled at. The vibes were not what you were expecting. Sure it was loud because of the countless amounts of people, but it didn't feel like those parties you'd see on TV.

Angel by Kali Uchis played loudly out of the speakers as you explored the bottom half of the house some more.

~Baby you should know that you’re everything I’m craving~

The beat and melody of the song had you really feeling yourself in your outfit, you felt so sexy. You didn't need the attention or compliments, you felt it for yourself just how good you looked. There were a few familiar faces, but no one that you'd really bother starting a conversation with. You weren't here because you wanted to be, it was only because of this stupid bet. Might as well take the time to try and have fun.

There were drinks everywhere of different colors, in different glasses, you weren't sure what was what and what to try.

"That blue one is pretty good as long as you don't mind that sting from the vodka."

You turned around to see where the voice came from. It belonged to a handsome guy that stood a few feet away from you, hand resting against the bar. "And how do I know I should trust your taste?" You made sure to add a flirtatious tinge to your voice.

He laughed and picked up one of the cups containing the blue liquid. "Well I think you're pretty, so that proves I have good taste right?"

Cute. "I guess that's good enough. I'll be mad if you let me down." You carefully sipped the drink, letting your tongue savor the flavors. It was good, really good. "Maybe you do have good taste."

You talked to him for about 15 more minutes, downing 2 more of the blue drinks and one of the orange ones. The buzz from the alcohol prickled at your skin. That was enough drinks for now, especially if you wanted the strength to walk back home. The song switched to something you could dance to, twerk to even. Before you had time to finish the thought, the guy you'd been talking to asks you if you want to dance with him.

He pulled you into the large area among the other party goers. Things heated up quickly between you two and you were grinding against each other in no time. You haven't let loose like this in quite some time and it was lots of fun in all honesty. He ran his hands along your sides and rested them on your hips as you moved them rhythmically against his crotch. The hand then danced up your spine and tangled in your hair making you stand up but not stop dancing.

"I didn't say you could dance on anyone else tonight." That definitely didn't sound like the same guy.

You turned your head to the side to see who was standing behind you now. "Kyungsoo?" When did he get here? How long have you been dancing on him? You slowed down your pace, but his hand kept your hips steady as he helped moved them to the beat yet again. "Don't stop just because you know it's me. Keep doing what you were doing."

His breath was hot against your ear, sending tingles down your spine and straight to your core. You had the sudden urge to tease him, wanting to see how he would react. You bent over slightly rubbing your ass against him and looked back to watch his expression. His lip was between his teeth, a hand caressing your ass. Why was this turning you on? Perhaps you shouldn't have had so many drinks, but that didn't feel like the problem. You definitely weren't drunk or anywhere close to it.

He was growing hard against you, you felt it. Did you really have that effect on him or was he just a normal horny man? He tapped on your left hip, signalling you to stand up. He turned you to face him, lips ghosting over yours.

"Do you want to kiss me or do you want to keep grinding on me until I take you to a bedroom to fuck you dumb?"

"If I say yes just this once, are you going to kiss me well enough to make me want to fuck you?"

He smirked and licked his lips. "I guess we'll have to see then huh?" He leaned in, wrapping a hand around your throat to squeeze the sides just gently. His lips were soft but the kiss was hungry. He dragged his teeth over your bottom lip before swiping his tongue over it asking for entry. Once granted, his tongue danced with yours deepening the already sensual kiss. His other hand found its way down your back and gripping your ass. Damn, he was a great kisser. So far the rumors were true and you wanted to beat yourself up for wondering if everything else was just as factual.

He pulled away, a trail of saliva connecting the both of you. He stared at you with hooded lids, a thumb rubbing over your lips. "How you feeling?" He knew the answer but you weren't ready to let him win just yet, even though he technically already has. "Too scared to say you want this dick now?"

"Fuck you Kyungsoo." Your words were venomous but the throb between your legs was just as lethal.

"Maybe you'll get the chance to if you fix that mouth of yours princess." He released his grip on you and walked away into the crowd to no longer be seen.

You stood there, thighs threatening to squeeze to ease some of the pressure on your clit. Fuck, maybe your friend was right, you do want to fuck him. You spent all these years trying to deny your urges for him, but tonight you might have to drop the facade to get what you want.

You walked around trying to take your mind off the man you swore you didn't have feelings for. All those drinks had your bladder full so it was time to find a bathroom. A few girls complimented your outfit as you made your way up the stairs through all the kissing couples and groping dudes. Most of the rooms were locked and you know they wouldn't be vacant for a while. Hopefully there was an extra bathroom somewhere before you actually peed on yourself.

Thankfully, the door at the end of the hall lead to a really nice bathroom, its size making you believe it was the master. You took in the restroom in all its glory while you sat on the toilet. Cam's house was huge, his parents must be rich. After releasing all the liquid in your bladder, you went to explore some more. You opened up a few doors that ended up being closets when you heard groans and grunts coming from one of the others and curiosity got the best of you.

When you opened it, you saw him. His head was back and his eyes were squeezed shut, his hand tangled in the girl's hair that had her lips wrapped around his dick. Of course he'd find someone else to suck him off after he kissed you like he loved you not too long ago. He noticed the new stream of light entering the room and looked down to see you standing, watching in the doorway.

He licked his lips and bobbed the girls head faster while keeping piercing eye contact. Shamefully, this had you sopping wet. Your panties were sticking to your core uncomfortably now and seeing how he looked at you made you want to jump him.

"Are you going to stand there frustrated or are you going to come join in?" He was inviting you, seeing if you'd take the bait and let him have his sweet victory.

It's nothing you've never done before and you felt like you would pass out if you didn't cum. Why not take it if he was offering it? You slowly strut over to the bed and climbed on top of it, sitting next to him. He was bucking his hips upwards into her mouth but all his attention was on you. He reached a hand under your skirt, feeling the growing wet patch on your panties. He slid the fabric to the side and teased your folds with his finger.

"You got this wet from watching me or has she been purring since I kissed you earlier?"

He's such a cocky bastard but he was right, you have been no good since that kiss earlier. "Does it matter or are you going to do something about it?"

He clicked his tongue and pinched your clit making you yelp in surprise. "Sit on my face while I think about it." He leaned back so his back was flush against the bed and tugged on your hips. You were turned so that you faced the girl blowing him and your ass pointed towards his face.

He used two fingers to spread your panties to the side and play with your clit, spreading the mess over them before he plunged them into you. You immediately squeezed around his fingers causing him to let out a low moan. He breathlessly told you to take them off and you did so without hesitation, resuming your previous position. His breath danced over your heat, teasing you more with his fingers.

"Kyungsoo-fuck...please just...stop teasing." Your hips were trying to move down onto his mouth but his hands on the back of your thighs kept you in place.

"I thought you could have patience with me? That's what you told me before."

You clenched your teeth in annoyance. You knew he was going to tease you until you were begging, you should have never agreed to this stupid bet. "I didn't come up here to have you annoy me, you make me so sick."

At that, he let go of your thighs, your pussy crashing down on his face. His tongue came out and pressed circles into your clit making you let out a breathy "oh". His arms were wrapped around your thighs, keeping you in place as you squirmed. It felt amazing. 2 out of 3 things were right so far, only one thing left to confirm all the rumors. The girl who diligently bobbed her head, released him with a pop and looked up at you. "You take the dick, I take the balls? My jaw is tired."

A weird thing to bond over, but your mind was fuzzy and you'd do anything to have him keep going. She sunk down lower on her knees and sucked each of them into her mouth, a deep groan coming from him, sending vibrations through your body. You whined when you saw just how big and thick he was, head still leaking precum. You carefully kitten licked up his shaft and at the head. It twitched, leaking even more of the sticky liquid. You glided him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked as far as you could go before his tip touched the back of your throat.

He reached down to hold your head in place as he bucked up into your mouth, his other hand working its fingers into you as he sucked on your clit harshly. You were a moaning mess now, trying to breathe through your nostrils as tears threatened to fall. The hold on your head softened and you took the opportunity to come up and breathe, only resulting in a violent coughing fit.

The salty taste of his precum on your tongue was amazing, you craved more. You wrapped your hand around what barely fit in your mouth. You hadn't noticed you were sharing until your tongue collided with something that felt oddly similar. You and your "new friend" were both kissing at his head, lips occasionally brushing against each other. She looked a lot more drunk than you did but he had you both captured in a spell, so you probably looked no different. He was rolling his hips so it could slide between both your wet mouths.

His fingers picked up the pace now, a knot forming in the pit of your stomach. Your orgasm was close and you hoped he'd let you have it. As expected, he pulled out his fingers and pushed up on you to move you away from him. He tapped on the cheek of the other girl and sat up. His chin glistened with your essence, his eyes dark with lust.

"On the bed, ass up." The was a sense of dominance to his voice, only adding to the slick that your pussy released. When you bent over on the bed, he landed a harsh smack on your ass causing you to lurch forward.

"Fuck Kyungsoo stop..."

"Hmm, you like that? The way your pussy is fluttering right now, I don't think you want me to. Watch." He brought his hand down on the other side, a loud echo in the room. It stung but in the best way possible. You couldn't help but moan into the sheets. "See how much you love it? Tell me how much it makes you wet."

"I'd never do tha-ah!" another smack, this one leaving a handprint.

He sighed deeply, "looks like I have to fuck the brat out of you."

He gave you no time to reply as he lined up with your entrance and slammed inside, your slick walls making it easy for him to move in and out. He was ramming his dick into you, his hands gripping your hips enough to leave bruises. He instructed the other girl to rub her clit while she kissed him and to not stop until she came.

You couldn't see but the kiss sounded sloppy. His thrusts were fast and you weren't sure how he was multitasking right now, or how he hasn't cum yet. He leaned away from the kiss so he could wet his thumb in his mouth and insert it in your ass, adding to the overall pleasure. You were screaming at this point, his dick constantly hitting that gummy spot in you. Your orgasm was quickly approaching again, your eyes rolling back, your toes curling.

"K-kyungsoo, p-please lemme cum this time. Please."

He didn't hear you, or so he acted. Your walls were clenching on him tight, ready to pulse around him if he let you cum. The girl above you screamed his name when she came over her fingers. A few more seconds were all you needed to tip you over the edge, but he slowed in you, almost coming to a complete stop. You craned your neck using all the strength you had left in your body. There better had been a good reason he ruined your orgasm like this.

There was a shift on the bed making you turn your head. The other girl was leaving, looking satisfied with her long awaited release. She left the room as if she wasn't just making out with the man who still has his dick inside you.

"Kyungsoo please just let me cum." You were desperate now, just wanting to finally get things over with so you didn't feel the aching pain anymore.

"I hope you didn't think I was going to let you off easy." He says, lifting you so that your back was pressed against his chest. Even the slight movement sent tingles to your pussy. "You can get what you want when you beg." His hand was around your neck, making you arch against him, his dick moving ever so slightly.

"Why would I do that when you know what I want?" It was hard not being bratty because you were so stubborn. You weren't sure how much more of this you could take though.

He brought his free hand down to slap your clit. "Bad girl, that's not what I wanted to hear."

Your body jolted from the slap, the overstimulation becoming too much to handle. "Please Kyungsoo, I really need to cum."

He was at your ear again, his breath warming your entire body. "Then beg slut." He pushed your head back into the mattress and began to pound into you. Your breath getting caught in your throat as you tried to moan. "Just beg and I'll make you squirt."

The way his dick rubbed against your walls was intoxicating. His name rolled off your tongue like it was the only one you knew. There it was again, that same knot waiting to snap. He knew you were close, that's why he thrust his hips viciously, making you moan and whimper uncontrollably. You had to do it now, you really needed this and God was he making you feel so good.

"Please don't stop, I need your dick to cum. I'm desperate now, please." Tears stained your cheeks as you confessed.

He pulled you up against his chest once again, hand back around your throat. Yet this time, he was plunging his dick so deep in you at this new angle. "Say it again, you're so what?"

"S-so desperate, Kyungsoo please!"

"Good girl, I knew you could do it. You wanna cum on Daddy's dick so badly don't you? Want Daddy to help you cum?" You nodded quickly, not being able to utter a word with his tightening grip around your throat. "Say it. You can do it."

"I want to cum on Daddy's dick, fuuuuck."

He loved hearing you choke out your words, feeling your pussy squeeze him like this. He had you right where he wanted you, having waited for this since he first laid eyes on you. He knew it'd be a challenge since he couldn't control his desires with anyone else. You were perfect but seemingly unattainable as you threw him side eyes and gags in disgust. When you agreed to this bet, he never thought he'd actually succeed but he had to make you believe he would just so he tried harder.

Seeing you here with tears streaming down your cheeks, moaning like it's the best sex you've ever had; he wanted nothing else than to relive this every change he got. Kyungsoo sped up even more feeling your walls twitch around him. There was no stopping this time. His other hand rubbed ruthless circles on your clit, finally giving you the pleasure of reaching your high. You gasped as he let go of your neck, a high pitched call of his name and you squirting all over the bed sheets.

It was mind-blowing. It had you seeing stars, your ears were ringing, your body was limp. 3 for 3, the rumors were all true. Who knew you'd be doing your research tonight? He stilled in you not long after, his warm seed filling you up to the brim. There was no better sight than seeing you all fucked out with his cum dripping out of you; he almost got hard again.

You were still breathing heavily as you tried to recover from your high. You felt the bed dip down and a heavy arm wrapped around your torso. When you opened your eyes, his big ones started back at you.

"I usually wear a condom but I couldn't help myself tonight." He gently rubbed your cheek as he looked in your eyes lovingly. This wasn't the Kyungsoo you were used to. He seemed calm, sweet, loyal. Just the person you needed him to be in this moment.

"Is that what you tell all your hoes?"

He rolled his eyes but a smile crept across his face. "Bratty to the end I see. And no, I've only told you that."

Admittedly that made you blush. Were you the first to fuck him raw? That didn't seem true, but you'd rather believe him for now. There was silence in the room, clashing with the blasting music coming from downstairs.

"Maybe it's time for a reputation change."

You ticked an eyebrow upwards, "Oh? Tired of your bad rep now?"

He smiled again, this time a lot more innocently. "For you? Definitely."

[katasstrophy]

I feel like I've seen every Bluelock boy paired with a very cute, very bubbly, and chill gf/reader before, but I haven't seen any of them paired with a cool and competent or even bossier type. Are there any guys you think of liking that type??? Or maybe just deserve that type to be kept in line lmao 🤣

nonnie!! 😳 NONNIE UR BRAIN I’M GIVING IT A THOUSAND KISSES UR SOOO RIGHT FOR THIS!!! i guess it doesn’t really show with the fics i’ve uploaded so far – which is a damn shame, i should fix that – but i am absolutely all for readers who are just… out there, ya know? they’re prickly, or easy to anger, or sardonic as all hell, or way too clever for their own good or yes yes, bossy<3 i eat that shit UP like it’s my last meal. this is not to say i don’t enjoy sweet, bubbly readers (bc i do!) but the type you describe just… scratches a certain itch iykwim 👁️👁️

i think one of my first posts ever about blue lock on this blog (cw. mid writing LMAO) was exactly about this. obviously most of the blue lock guys are only extreme egoists when they’re playing soccer, but i do think that aspect of their lives will ultimately start to bleed into their personality as they grow up/go pro. so having someone who’s just like “yeah that’s great and all but if you won’t make it to date night i’ll leave your sorry ass” is just. so sexy to them like?? they haven’t gotten their ego knocked down a peg in a while so i think they’d be drawn to a partner like that askdhxnbz idk if i’m explaining this very well but as far as i’m concerned all blue lock boys deserve an unhinged reader lol 😤

THAT BEING SAID!!! >:))) i have a top three list of blue lock men who i, personally, would love to put in their place and encourage anyone out there to do so as well LOL

1. MICHAEL KAISER — this cocky motherfucker ugh need i say more 🙄 the urge to censor his name was real strong but i persevered still cannot believe i’m (sadly) attracted to this horrible, horrible man. he’s sooo insufferable and just so obsessed with himself like he unironically refers to himself as the emperor when i tell you there’s nothing i want more than to make this man beg on his knees i mean it – what a pretty sight that would be hm? <3 all his past lovers probably treated him like he was god’s greatest gift to women (HE IS NOT) – and by now he’s not only used to it but comes to expect it – so when he meets you and you’re like “mm you’re kind of a prick leave me alone thenk yew✨✨” he’s just. so scandalized LMFAO suddenly he’s the one chasing after you and vying for a shred of your attention oooohh yes that’s exactly what he deserves how it should be

2. ITOSHI SAE — listen he might be my precious babygirl now but i used to hate this mans guts like no other and that little resentment still lives on in my heart in the form of wanting this man’s downfall to be a woman like don’t tell me that’s not the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. he’s just so single-mindedly focused on soccer – japan’s treasure and what not – and thinks he can get away with being an asshole because of it but you place down your foot and tell him to cut the bullshit or you’ll find someone who treats you better (AMEN SISTER) and suddenly he’s grappling with the reality that shit he might just fall apart without you yes girl make him suffer

3. OLIVER AIKU — i couldn’t not include the resident fuckboy here mmmm the possibilities for him are endless and each one more delicious than the last. he might not be as insufferable as the others but he still thinks extremely highly of himself, especially when it comes to his way with the ladies. typical “oh no i don’t do relationships” kinda guy who can show you a good time for a night before dipping in the morning – and you just don’t want that. so you reject his advances, say you’re not interested and move on, but for some reason, oliver can’t. literally physically wounds his pride when he crawls back for a second chance but you don’t budge, still wary of him due to his past behavior unless he can show you otherwise. and the way he scrambles to prove himself as trustworthy to you? god tier groveling from a man YUMM

[garvalhaminho]

forgot to post my thoughts while reading the first chapter of tlkof as someone who has only ever read tda and tid (translated from chaotic portuguese)

thais??? who??

dru likes learning by understanding how things work, relatable (SHE'S LITERALLY ME)

she's learning about downworlders and can ask magnus for help, but specifically cristina (the diva who loved studying faeries!!), mark and helen (icon) and kieran and i love that for her 💞 like yes give her one thing she can take advantage of

SHE'S GOT HER MOTHER ELEANOR'S JACKET !! I REPEAT SHE'S GOT HER MOTHER ELEANOR'S JACKET !!

not her dyeing her hair black (ate)

"thais always looked glamorous in her gear" 🤨 no look i know friends can find each other pretty and beautiful etc but when it's ya literature.....it's usually the censored version of "hot as fuck" JUST SAYING

DRU IS 5'3 YAAA WE'VE GOT THE SAME HEIGHT (i think, i'm not american)

i already love dru and thais's friendship 🫶 they match each others freak

dru trains to forget everything she's gone through 😭

oh already the preppy guys and fuckboys (mason hardcastle)

"dru and thais didn't need to ask each other; they knew already they'd be a team" awwww i already know i'm gonna love their friendship

paige ashdown when i see you in the street (no but like an ableist and fatphobic bully? i'll fight that fucker with my bare hands)

thais speaking portuguese in the middle of nowhere i love it

OH AND THE FUCKBOY IS HER EX AND HE SUCKS, if it was me and i had classes with him i'd literally throw myself off a bridge

dru inventing "sex crocodile",,, she's too iconic i fear

"nothing scared [dru}. nothing in a movie, anyway." babygirl 😭 i remember her like mentioning how she liked horror movies but the horror depicted would never be as bad as the real life horror she's experienced

dru still talks to kit 😭 no like imagine your sister still talks to your situationship of two weeks from three years ago, i'd jump off a bridge (yet again)

"there's no danger. we're on academy grounds" famous last words

"she tugged gently at a dangling lock in her friend's hair" THAT'S LITERALLY A MICROTROPE IN ROMANCE MOVIES

"she cursed silently, imagining every bad word she could think of and some she was pretty sure she'd just made up." let dru say fuck pleaseeee. just once. as a little treat, she deserves it

"she wondered for a moment if she should mention that her brother, mark, was the consort of the unseelie king" not her trying to use her connections

ASH SHOWING UP AND HUMILIATING THE LITTLE FAERIE MEN 😭 he slayed i fear

no yeah he's literally royalty he's literally a prince (get that bag girl!!)

dru thinking that ash's eyes were like the sea glass julian loved......oh how i love this family

"'how do you know my name?' she demanded. his eyes narrowed. 'you must be joking,' he said. 'you've forgotten? you can't have forgotten.'" of course she's forgotten a random guy she was with for two minutes three years ago, she has a life, YOU'RE just a SIMP

ash getting yelled at and reprimanded by his daddy or whatever but still literally helping his crush and sending her away to safety 🙏 and your man can't even text you back

julian and emma leaving london to take care of their child drusilla blackthorn

OH AND JULIAN'S GONNA NEED A LOT A THERAPY AFTER THREE BOOKS OF HIS KIDS GETTING THEMSELVES IN TROUBLE

he didn't even sleep during the three nights she was missing 😭

i fear i might become thais/dru shipper under the right circumstances

[eroticmelanin]

Some of this I couldn't recover but enjoy

[ Note: I personally don't like x reader because not everyone looks the same ]

Give a little, get a lot

Joshua & vernon × black reader

It was getting late . You decide to stand up and go get dressed . You were going out tonight. Somewhere out of the ordinary. You wore a blue lacey dress with your back out , the dress hugging your curvy figure. You grab your bus card and walk out the door

🏆🏆🏆🏆🏆🏆🏆🏆🏆🏆🏆🏆🏆🏆🏆🏆

You were now in Busan. You enjoyed the night lights as everything around you was a blur . You smile to yourself . You deserved this night . " excuse me ma'am do you know if any of these food courts are open?" A voice asked you . You turned and see two Korean males . They were both extremely attractive and you were trying to find your words . " I think they close at 10 ? I just got to this city." You say to them. The males both nod , still staring at you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

" so what's your name?" You had learned that their names were Joshua and vernon and they were well known celebrities. " I'm ( Your name)," you smile sweetly at them .

" thats a pretty name." Joshua said. You smile. " thanks ." It got silent again. " would you like to go hang with us at Joshua's house?we got some fire weed to smoke on ." Vernon winked . " I unfortunately don't smoke but yes we can ." You tell them the truth.

Within 30 minutes you were at joshuas house . He instructed you to take off your shoes so that the floors wouldn't get dirty. The two males sat on the couch . You sit across from them as Joshua took out the rolling paper and vernon untied the weed bag . You watch them . " so how old are you ?" " I'm 30." " ohhh hey noona !!" Vernon chuckled . Joshua was rolling up the paper perfect , not breaking up the focus. Vernon was done rolling as he held up a blue lighter . Joshua points his blunt towards the lighter as vernon lights up . Joshua goes to take a puff as he closed his eyes . Vernon lights up his blunt, as he took long puffs . The boys were making different smoke shapes as Joshua was looking at you with his " high " eyes . Your mouth was warm as he made your face go deep towards his balls . Your nose grazed against them . Your mouth was drooling as you took his balls into your mouth sucking them. Vernon was in paradise . You gave him the nastiest head ever . Your mouth made loud slurping noises as you stuffed his balls into his mouth. You release as you go back sucking his dick . Vernon lifted you up as he goes to lift your legs . " be still." He entered into your pussy . It felt so right and whole . He thrusted slowly as you cried out.

You tried to move but vernon went deeper

" who you running from? Where you going huh ?" That dominance in his voice made you fold.

" not you ," you moaned. " nowhere ,"

" you gone stay right here ?"

You couldn't speak . Your nails were digging into his ass cheeks.

" I ain't hear you, " he was balls deep. His balls were dragging against your clitoris .

" I'm gonna stay , fuck ," your head fell back.

" you gone let me milk this pussy babygirl ?" Vernon was sweating as he continued to fuck you at different angles.

" yes ,"

" say it louder baby ,"

" YES VERNON YES !!" sweat was dripping all over you. Joshua entered from the back into your ass as the both fucked you into the night.

No more hongdae fuckboys for now .

[liveinfantacy]

NOT SO INNOCENT (JUNGKOOK SMUT)

pairing: Jungkook x reader.

➳ genre: smut, rough sex.

➳ contents & warnings: smut warning, rough sex, mirror sex, fingering, degradation, blowjob, dirty talk, pleasuring, cursing words, fuckboy! jk. Cumming in the mouth.

“Wow,” you sigh in a breathless whimper, having trouble wrapping your mind around the enchanting moment you just lived. Jungkook chuckles darkly.

“So fucking adorable,” he said smirking again. “Look what you did to me” his voice went an octave lower as he rolled his hips into yours and you stiffened when you felt his hard member pressing against your stomach.

“Want to help me with that babydoll?” he placed your hand over his bulge, pressing on it to palm himself through his jeans with your cute hand.

You can only manage to nod because you cannot take the chance to open your mouth and accidentally let out an embarrassing squeal.

“What a good girl” he strokes your heated cheek while you keep your hand steady on his member. You can’t believe how lively it feels under your touch.

Then swiftly Jungkook unties the apron at his back and roughly passes it over his head, slightly messing up his hair in the process. Seeing him so impatient makes your guts stir. He carelessly throws the apron over the cash register and pulls on your wrist until his back hits the counter and is towards the big shop window.

“On your knees baby” his voice is commanding and hoarse. You oblige and sink yourself to your knees. You’re now completely concealed behind the counter. From a passerby’s perceptive Jungkook looks alone in the shop. Maybe he looks like he’s leaning back against the counter and playing games on his phone when he’s in fact guiding your hands on his zipper.

“Take that off for me babygirl” With trembling hands and a thumping heart you unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants to reveal his black boxers and his big -to say the least- cock.

The thin fabric of his underwear does a poor job at concealing the thing. You can perfectly see the outline of his balls, his shaft and his head as it seems to be painfully restricted in the tight piece of clothing.

“That too,” he says in the same hoarse impatient tone. You execute yourself pulling the waistband at his hips and immediately the swollen member springs free in front of your face.

The thickness is impressive. It’s what you notice first. It’s a first for you, seeing the male attributes this close. The head is red and swollen and transparent liquid seems to ooze from the slit. It’s the most appetizing sight you’ve ever laid eyes on, making your mouth instinctively water.

“Open up babe” he smirks again.

You open ever so slightly your lips and aim the tip of your tongue right at the slit. You’re pleasantly surprised at the salty taste as you progress your lips on Jungkook's shaft. He grunts loudly as you keep taking him inside your mouth.

“I’m the first one in this mouth, aren’t I?” he says breathlessly looking down at you with desire.

Hell if he knew… he’s even your first real kiss. You nod, unable to speak as your mouth is crowded by the thick member.

“I fucking knew it,” he says before taking a firm grip on your hair. The coercive sting on your scalp rips a muffled moan out of your lips “So fucking innocent” he sighs as he slowly pulls back. Once he’s almost completely out and only his tip is loosely hanging from your lips, he pushes himself back in, slowly, taking his time.

“I can’t wait to” When he reaches the back of your throat he simply pushes past it. Instinctively you bring your hands to push on his hips but the counter behind him maintains him securely inside your narrow mouth. “… fucking ruin you.”

You choke for the first time, audibly gagging on his length as you feel the pleasurable burn of his cock stretching your throat.

With that he picks up the pace and starts to pleasure himself using your mouth. He fucks your face however he pleases, caring little about your primary need for oxygen. You feel tears prickling at the corner of your eyes and you instinctively close them. Jungkook tightens the grip around your hair.

“Look at me. Baby. Look at me while you choke on my cock… Aaaah” he grunts, shamelessly filling the empty shop with pleasured moans. “You look so fucking cute with my cock down your throat”. You feel him twitch on your tongue.

He drags out a long moan as he pulls out completely this time. You gasp for air and cough but you don’t dare take your eyes off him which makes him smile in satisfaction.

“Fuck that was close” he says as he wraps his hand around his length, sweat is dripping down his temple as his white shirt is clamped up on his skin, making the fabric lightly translucent. “You want more baby?”

“Yes, Sir” you blurt out, outing one of your kinks without thinking. You would have felt embarrassed if it wasn’t for Jungkook’s reaction. His cheeks lifted up in a teasing satisfied smile. He was clearly enjoying the nickname as much as you.

“What a good babygirl you are” He comes, parting your lips open with one hand and stroking himself with the other one. “You want my cum huh?” his fingers play with your tongue inside your mouth.

“Yes please Sir” you try not to sound too eager but you completely fail, sounding like you’re begging him for his cum. Which you are prepared to do if you must.

“Then do it. Make me feel good with this pretty little mouth of yours” he says, letting go of his cock and your face.

Without further ado you wrap your lips once again on his thick cock. You start to bop your head on it while you give little teasing licks on the tip. Jungkook sighs in satisfaction as his brows crease.

“Fuck” he curses under his breath, bucking his hips up.

You pick the pace and drop the teasing lick. This time you’re going in for the price, you make long movements along the whole member. Each time you take him past the back of your mouth and into your throat mimicking how he was fucking your face minutes ago.

“Fuck baby this is so good” his jaw fall open as more and more precum is seeping out his cock. “Focus your mouth on the tip” he breathes out. You oblige and hollow your cheek as you harshly suck at the swollen head of his cock.

“Fuck yesss fuck Aaaah” Jungkook can hardly contain his moans anymore. “Jerk me off too” he commands in a raspy voice. “Are you sure you’ve never done this?” He gruff, head falling back. “You’re so fucking good at this”

His praises make you double your efforts and you suck even harder, you bop your head even faster, wrap your hands even tighter around his base.

“Fuck baby you want this?” he huffs, his dampened blond hair sticking to his forehead, earring reflecting the late sun on the side of his face.

“Yes please,” you say with a mouth full.

“Say it” he commands.

You pop his thick cock outside your mouth and start to jerk him with both hands from the base to the tip, the saliva coating his dick makes your hands glide smoothly alongside his thick length.

“Please sir I want your cum so bad” you beg. “Please I wanna taste your cum in my pretty little mouth”

“Fuck… Aaah… Don’t fucking stop” his chest is heaving up and down, and his eyes are fluttering close as he grips the edge of the counter, nails digging into the rustic dark wood. “I’m cumming” he whispers in a raspy breath.

You feel him uncontrollably twitch in your hands as he lets out loud animalistic grunts.

You stick your tongue out trying to catch as much of the thick fluid gushing out in long streams of hot burning cum. Some crash on your cheeks and across your nose but most go straight on your tongue and to the back of your mouth. You’re surprised at the strong taste but it’s a pleasant surprise. You love how his taste completely takes over your mouth as the thick cum coats your tongue and drips down your throats. You can’t get enough of it.

You don’t want to let anything go to waste. Not after that long. Not after coming here twice a day every day for that long. So you scrape your cheeks with your fingers and bring the remaining cum to your mouth. You close your eyes enjoying Jungkook’s taste to the fullest.

Jungkook didn’t lose a second of the show. He enjoyed seeing how your virgin little mouth was so hungry for his cum. And he couldn’t wait to make you hungry for much more.

"Not so innocent indeed,” he said, smiling down on you.

[missacidburn928]

It's Tasty Tuesday! Who Wants a Sample...

A weekly sample of what I have to offer. Be it a WIP or a completed fic, I'm here to give you a taste.

Well enough to wet your appetite at least...

Hors d'oeuvres for the week of August 26th 😈

Moonlight & Fang Ch. 5 (The Rogue): Alpha!Ari Levison x x OC Omega!Selene/Red

Strings Attached: Mechanic!Biker!Sy x POC!Reader

You Were Finished Long Before We Had Even Seen The Start: Indie Rocker!Eddie Munson x POC!Indie Rocker!Reader “Sug” x Fuckboy!Steve Harrington

Bittersweet (Part I): POC!Reader “Lux” x Walter Marshall

LUNATIC III: Avengers x POC!Reader "Nyx"

As all of my samples are 18+ material they can be fun under the cut. MDNI

Happy Feasting Heathens

Ari

She wants to play with fire and tempt my wolf. Well, I’ll gladly watch her burn.

With a growl, I reach forward. Wrapping my hand around the back of her neck and pulling her forward into a bruising kiss. She tastes of wild magic and sin. Breaking the kiss, I leave her breathless. Hand placed on her heaving chest as she tries to regulate her intake of air.

“Dress. Gone. Now. Before I cut it to shreds.”

She pulls her dagger back out, turning it over with a flick of her wrist and cuts it off herself. Nicking her chest in the process. “It’s just fabric. Need further assistance with yours.” She innocently asks. Doe-eyed and sweet.

“Oh you’re dangerous, little one.”

“What better to challenge you with.” She giggles.

I kiss her once more as I unlace my pants and release my aching member into the chill night air. Gripping her thighs, I lift her up onto my naked chest. Walking forward, I allow my wolf to navigate us to the nearest tree and I slam her up against it. Affording me a nip to the lip in retaliation.

Her slick if making a mess of the thick hair trailing down my abdomen. She’s ripe and ready for me. So I notch my swollen head between her leaking folds and thrust inside her.

Only giving her a moment to adjust to the size of me splitting her open, I start a punishing pace. Slamming into her hard and deep. Hitting all of the sweet spots and grinding my pelvis down against her little bundle of nerves. As her back scratches against the bark, leaving its own mark behind. Our chests, still slick with blood, slide against one another as the very essence of our beings co mingle together.

I can feel her orgasm coming on quickly and with one more deep thrust, I watch her soar over the edge. Screaming my name to Gods, as she promised. 

This is not how I wish to claim her. No, I have something special in mind for that.

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“You’re a needy little one tonight.” He grits out. “Remember to stay quiet Peach. Wouldn't want to alert the neighbors now, would we?”

I have no chance of responding as he pulls his hips back and thrusts them forward. Gripping my waist tight, he sets a hardy pace. I bite my bottom lip to keep from screaming as his weight pushes me down against the leather and metal beneath me.

He slaps my ass, making me cry out, before clamping my mouth shut once more. “If your pussy keeps squeezing me like that Peach, this is going to be over sooner than I would like.”

So of course I purposely do exactly that. I clamp my walls around this girth and circle my hips as best I can in my current position. Rubbing my clit along the leather seat. I can feel a tingle begin to move up from my toes into my core. I’m right on the precipice of ecstasy and I want to take Sy along with me.

“So close.” I whisper out.

“I know, baby. I know.” He groans. “Be a good girl and come for me so I can fill you up. Wanna watch my cum drip out of you onto my seat.”

He picks up the pace and suddenly I feel like I’m flying. Goosebumps erupt along my skin, and I forget all about staying quiet as I come around his cock.

“That’s it, babygirl. Fuck you feel so good when you come on my dick baby.”

I lay there, riding the waves of pleasure as Sy fucks me through my orgasm. Just as the last pulses ring through my body, he thrusts in as deep as he can go. With his tip notched at my cervix, he growls and groans as he unloads inside of me. Hips twitching until the last drop is spent.

He slowly pulls out of me. Reaching forward, he spreads my cheeks. Admiring his seed leaking from my abused hole. “One of these days I’m going to have to film this. My mind never does it justice. And you really need to see just how damn sexy you look all swollen and dripping of me.”

“Why not just do it now? I won’t be moving without help thanks to that orgasm. Enjoy the fruits of your labor Beasty.”

I observe him reach into his pocket and pull out his phone. Taking his sweet time, he snaps pictures and even takes video from practically every angle.

Next thing I know his screen is before me with a video playing. My pussy, front and center, spasms. An aftershock most likely, and a fresh trickle of cream trails down my lips. I’m a mess, but I have to admit, he’s right. I do look sexy with his claim painted on me.

“Fucking perfection.” He whispers in my ear. “Now let’s get you inside and cleaned up, baby. I’m going to push my cum back where it belongs and pull your pants back up. Then I’m carrying you to bed.”

“Such a chivalrous beast.” I giggle.

“Only for you, Peach. What can I say. I’m attached. Strings and all.”

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Your mouth opens on a silent moan. Eyes rolling to the back of your head with the intrusion as you whisper a soft, “Oh fuck.”

“What is it Bunny?” Eddie, who has been watching with his own hand wrapped around his dick, asks.

“Big.” You moan out. “He’s so big. Sooo full.”

 Eddie gives a little sadistic chuckle. “Oh this is going to be even more fun than I originally thought.”

Steve turns his head. Having caught his breath from the initial shock of your tight pussy gripping him tight. Ready with a sassy reply on his tongue. A reply that never makes it past his throat, as Eddie takes his fingers coated in your slick and teases them against his hole.

With a little pressure, Eddie’s fingertip sinks in. He pushes it further past the ring of muscle until he is two knuckles deep. Pulling out he adds a second finger and begins scissoring them.

Steve groans at the intrusion. Hips grinding involuntarily from the sensations. His trimmed patch of hair along his pelvis rubbing against your sensitive pearl. Pulling quiet moans from your throat.

Eddie continues with his prep until he feels that Steve is ready to take his cock. Snapping the bottle of lube open, he applies a generous amount to his rigid length.

Pulling his fingers out, he grips Steve’s cheeks. Spreading him wide and spitting on his hole for good measure. With his dick firmly in hand he kisses the tip to Steve’s puckered hole and gently inches his way in.

Both men groan as Eddie bottoms out. Steve, overloaded with pleasurable sensations, is a panting mess.

“You gonna get those hips moving and satisfy my girl or am I going to have to fuck the both of you myself?” Eddie taunts.

“How the hell would you do that?” Steve ponders out loud.

“Like this.” Eddie pulls out almost to the tip and slams back forward. Thrusting so hard that he moves Steve’s hips. Pushing him deeper inside of you.

When he pulls back once more, Steve’s hips back out from you just a bit with them.

Than Eddies does it again. Choosing to stay still once he’s slammed home. “So again. Are you gonna fuck us yourself or am I going to be the one doing all the fucking?”

“Fuck. You. Eddie.” Steve grits out through pants.

“Maybe next time.” Eddie teases. “At least rub Bunny’s clit. Want to watch her come all over your dick before you lose it. With how taut your muscles are I expect this to go rather quickly.”

Steve turns to glare over his shoulder at Eddie. The subtle movement causes his hips to tilt in just a way that has his thickness grazing against your sweet spongy spot making you moan. Grabbing the attention of both men.

Your eyes are glazed over, and your bottom lip is being held hostage by your top teeth.

“Look at you little one. Laying here all patient like a good girl while we bicker like fools.” Steve coos. Mesmerized by how gorgeous you look underneath him.

“She’s the best girl.” Eddie says. Leaning over Steve’s shoulder to gaze down at you. “She deserves a reward for such good behavior don’t you think? How about a cream pie? Hmm. Stevie fills you up with a fat load while I do the same to him. Sound good to you Bunny?”

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Do you love me, want me, hate me? Boy, I don't understand.

The smile that graced my face this morning when I received the text from Walt letting me know he closed the case and to come over for our usual post case dinner and decompression; was megawatt status. This case really took over his life. Even more so than usual. I barely heard a word from him for two weeks.

Receiving that text, knowing he was okay and that I would be seeing him, was a breath of fresh air.

I arrived to his house and let myself in.

It was eerily silent. I thought that maybe I beat Walt home. That is until I stumbled upon his sulking frame on the kitchen floor, slumped against the cabinets. A highball of whiskey clutched tight in his fingers.

“Walt, is everything okay?” I lower myself to the ground to get closer to him. Uncaring of the dress that took me hours to decide on.

“She didn’t survive.” He mumbles out.

“Who?”

“The wife.” He deadpans. “It was a home invasion. They did horrible things to this woman in front of her husband who fought back with everything he had. They both ended up in the hospital. Beds next to each other. Something went wrong. A bleed they didn’t catch, and she lost her life. He had to watch her die and could do nothing about it.”

“Oh, puppy. I’m so sorry. That poor man. Did you get the assholes responsible?”

“Yeah. Young idiots trying to make a name for themselves.”

“Good. Now justice can be served. So what has you so upset?”

He takes a sip of his whiskey. “The husband looked so hollow when I came to tell him we caught the ones responsible for his wife’s death. I’ve seen some horrible things but nothing that will haunt me as much as that look on his face did. It reminded me of what I have to lose. I don’t know why you even put up with me and all the shit I put you through, but I can’t lose you baby. I can’t.” He confesses with tears in his eyes.

On instinct I climb into his lap and begin kissing them away until I land on his downturned lips. Where I place the softest of kisses. Barely a graze.

He sets his whiskey down and places his hand loosely around my throat as he pulls me in for a deeper one.

It quickly turns desperate. His jeans are quickly unzipped, and my underwear are pushed to the side. Simultaneous groans ricochet off the walls as our pelvis’ connect and we being to grind in tortuous pleasure. Succumbing to the need to reenforce our bond to each other.

It’s both loving and painful. Raw and unfiltered. An emotional mess of our demons dancing together before we chase them away to their dark depths once more.

“I love you.” I pant out. “Demons and all.”

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“Have a look around. Make yourselves comfortable. Get acquainted with the space. I'm still a bit of a mess from my performance. Sticky with sweat, among other things. I’m just going to wash the night away so the fun can begin. I’ll leave the door open. You’re more than welcome to join.” You give your most innocent smile, mischievous eyes giving you away.

Nat wastes no time following you into the bathroom. “Here let me.” She runs her fingers up your arms, pushing the straps down as she reaches your shoulders, letting the dress fall to the floor. She looks down and quirks a brow. “Your panties seem to be missing. I distinctly remember you leaving the stage with them on.”

“Everything about August is large. Down to the size of his loads.” You state. “Not to mention, the viscosity. I didn't feel like walking around with it slowly trailing down my thighs, so I did a quick cleanup and decided to air dry.” 

You smile sweetly at her as she reaches around and unclasps your bra with one hand. “Let’s see if he left anything behind shall we.” Her dainty fingers traverse up your inner thigh, slapping each one to get you to spread them, before sinking her middle finger to the knuckle into your dampened folds. 

She pumps her hand a few times, crooking her finger to reach all the good spots, making you weak in the knees already. Pulling out she raises her wet hand between you. “Well would you look at that, it’s all you.” 

“Thor can’t stop talking about how amazing she tastes.” Bucky speaks from the door frame. “Is it true, doll?” 

Nat licks her finger clean, moaning as your essence coats her tongue. “Fuck that’s good.”

“Guess I’m going to have to find out for myself.” He steps into the bathroom. “Turn around. Hands on the counter and present that dripping little cunt for me, doll.”

You easily comply, bending over the counter, ass high in the air, weeping pussy on full display.

He stands behind you, catching your eyes in the mirror before lowering himself to his knees. Placing his hands on your hips, the cool of the metal soothing your heated skin, he leans forward and runs his thick tongue slowly from clit to slit and back again. “I don’t think his words did you justice, doll. If I’m not too careful, I could find myself addicted to your taste on my tongue. I think I may be ruined already.”

You remain in place and just whimper at his words. “Someone is feeling subby.” Nat mentions. “She hasn’t moved an inch since you commanded her to present for you.” She looks at Bucky.

“That what you need tonight, doll? To surrender? Feel that loss of control?” Bucky asks.

“Yes.” You whisper out. “Yes, I just want to float away.”

“We can provide that for you.” Nat states. “Let’s set some guidelines before we begin.” You and Bucky both nod. “Good. We can go over them while you shower if you still wish to do so.”

“I do. Muscles are still tense.” You reply.

Bucky starts the shower, checks the temp, lifts you up and places you inside. “Wash up, but leave your hair dry if possible please.” He hands you a hair tie from around his wrist for you to do so.

“Okay. Now. Let’s clarify what is happening here.” He starts. “You want to partake in a scene where Nat or I…”

“Both.” You quickly squeak out.

He chuckles. “Where Nat and I Dom you. Is that correct?”

“Yes.” You nod.

“Great.”

“Anything specific you would like to have happen? Safewords?” Nat asks.

“I use the traffic light system for scenes. Simplest for all parties to remember.” You lather up your body. “And I do have a certain kink in mind that I would love to have utilized if you're comfortable with it.”

“Which kink would that be, doll?”

“I think I have an inkling.” Nat teases.

“Knife play. If getting a little bloody isn't an issue for you.” You look at them. “I wouldn't be opposed to being tied down at your mercy either.”

You watch the tent rise further in Bucky’s jeans. “I can most certainly accommodate that for you.” He twirls his favorite knife around his fingers.

“This is going to be fun.” Nat responds. “Anything else?”

“No that’s pretty much it.”

“Great. Now hurry up and rinse off.” Bucky states as he goes to grab a towel. “You’re to dry off and wait for us to call you into the room.” He pulls you to him by the back of your head and kisses you for the first time, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. “Marks?”

“Nothing permanent please.”

“Understandable.” He kisses you once more and heads back into the room to set up. Nat places a light kiss to your lips then follows.

Continue: ao3 tumblr

[doodle-pops]

Modern AU: Brother's Best Friend

Headcanons: Maedhros, Celegorm, Fingon, Angrod, Egalmoth, Beleg

A/N: Back with my Modern AU headcanons, I decided to switch it up for a change today. They're quite long since I did both headcanons and fic for more content. Enjoy!!

Warnings: fembod, exhibitionism, cunnilingus (face sitting and from behind), vaginal penetration, fingering

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ. Maedhros

He’s always softer and protective around you and even scolds your brother for being too harsh. You can count on him to be at your beck and call whenever something is off, and you require assistance.

Quick to compliment your outfits and throw a secretive wink. His eyes are always on your figure whenever you're walking around the house. Your brother could be chatting his head off and his eyes are on you (he’s using his handsome looks to benefit him).

Wards off all suitors and would even threaten a few to ensure that no one else but him can have you. This means that whenever your brother is asleep in the next room at night, you can bet he’s already slithered into your room to have his filthy way with you.

He’s ruthless and a menace about it. Part of you would think that he doesn’t care whether your brother caught him or not, but it was just the thrill of having consecutive rendezvous.

The loud thuds of the bedhead knocking against the wall alerted you of the volume and aggression he was pounding into you, though, it appeared that Maedhros had no care in the world. He was lost in your heat and all that mattered was you cumming around his cock and him filling you up.

Sweaty skin rubbed against one another, and your hands were fighting to catch a firm grip on his arms while his hips expertly twisted and angled themselves to aim for that one spot right off the bat. While his mouth had covered yours to swallow your moans, he was still sinfully wicked to force them out.  “M-Mae…please…ngghh—”

The wicked gleam in his eyes as he broke the kiss and pulled away to lift your right leg and hook it over his shoulder urged a squeak to follow. He was relentless as his hips continuously worked their way against yours. Every touch had your body on fire. “You don’t sound like you want me to stop princess? Do you hear that? Listen…”

Forcing yourself to listen to want he wanted you to hear, you gasp at the lewd sounds of your cunt squelching as his cock drove deeper and deeper. You wanted to look down to where you were both connected, but the harsh thrust he sent your way made you bury your face into the pillow. Your brother had to be drunk or sick to not hear a single sound emitting from your room, even the knocking of the bedhead.

“Fuck Mae! I’m s-so close—”

Leaning into your neck to kiss your pulse, he gave a little nibble before steadying his hips once he felt the tightness around him increasing. “Go ahead princess, cum all over my cock. Show me just how filthy my friend’s little sister is…”

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ. Celegorm

He looks like a fuckboy and acts like he’s the biggest and best out of them all, but it’s all a façade. Deep down, he simply tags along with the latest gossip about him so long as it isn’t ruining the reputation of Mr Popular.

As your brother’s bestie, he’s always over and doesn’t know how to be subtle about anything he says or does. If you’re wearing something revealing, he’s biting his lip or raking his eyes from head to toe, and in return, he’ll walk around shirtless to capture your attention.

Compliments roll off his tongue and nicknames are attached to them. Whether it be ‘princess’, ‘dollface’, ‘babygirl’, kitten’, or ‘vixen’, those are his names for you alone. No one had the privilege to use them; only he can shamelessly flirt with you.

Loves to act like the big bad wolf or fake boyfriend so you can come running to him, proving to your brother that he can trust and protect you. He really does that to corrupt you to end up as his plaything until you submit.

“What’s the matter kitten, cat got your tongue? What happened to all that noise you were making earlier?” His sickeningly patronising grin was hidden from your line of sight as he pressed you against the wall in the corridor of your house and buried his face between your legs.

Taking his large hands, he parted your thighs and spread your ass apart so his tongue could reach your puss better and have a taste. The vicious swirls of his tongue against your clit once his tongue came in contact with your sensitive bud forced a squeak from your lips. Not once did Celegorm cease his actions despite your brother and the rest of his friends lounging downstairs. If they heard, then so be it. Right now, he was having dessert.

Nipping and circling your clit with his teeth and tongue, he enjoyed the squeaks and squelches emanating from you with each ministration. Wanting to dive deeper, he pressed you into the wall and arched your back so your ass would meet his face and his tongue would slip into your slit. The sound of slick being slurped by him shamelessly ricocheted throughout the upper floor and prompted you to push against and away from him. “Relax dollface, no one is going to interrupt us,” his voice muffled by your pussy as a slap came down on your ass to silence your whines. “Enjoy what I’m giving you.”

Panting like you were in labour, your nails scraped the paint off the wall from the palpability of his actions. He was relentless and showed no signs of stopping until you came upon his face, even if it was in the open corridor. Feeling the languid rolls and thrusts of his tongue, your eyes rolled back, and your body began convulsing.

“That’s it princess, cum all over my face. Show me just how sweet your pussy is.”

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ. Fingon

Your brother trusts him so much that not even for a second he would suspect that his best friend had already locked his eyes on his little sister. All the sweet interactions between you and Fingon before your brother’s eyes were all a candy show.

In secrecy and right before his eyes, Fingon was staking his claim on you from the simple gestures of brushing your hair out the way, complementing your outfit or racking his eyes up and down your figure when you wear a little too-revealing dress.

For your brother’s sake of fearing when other people approach you, Fingon would pretend to be your boyfriend and when your brother’s back was turned, he’d have you all to himself.

It’s all a part of fulfilling his role and duty as your boyfriend. Smug, seductive and highly secretive, it’s more your brother being blind to the obvious actions of his best friend fucking you right in the kitchen while he’s playing games.

“Shush, princess. Not so loud now. You don’t want your dear old brother to catch us? What would he say about you getting fucked by his best friend?” his voice was beyond stable for someone drilling into you rapidly. Even the stable mocking tone he displayed made your walls clenched around his cock causing him to hiss.

The faint sound of skin slapping against each other echoed in the kitchen and faintly in the living room while it reverberated loudly in the pantry you were cooped up in. The straps of your top were rolled down your shoulder, shorts off and panties pushed to the side with one leg hooked on his hip. Your fingers were fighting to catch a good grip with the way his hips were battering against yours. “F-Finno…slowly down…too much, ngghh—” Your words were cut off by a squeak when he pinched your clit.

“Too much? Oh no princess, this is more than enough. It’s what you wanted, craved—walking around in those shorts and expecting that I wouldn’t scold you…” His voice trailed off when he decided to look down and notice you creaming all over him. “So fucking innocent aren’t you? Look at the mess you made sweetheart…all for me,” he cooed in your ear before giving it a nibble and dropping to your neck.

Digging your nails into his shirt and tugging him closer as the heat and pressure grew, your body began trembling from the high levels of sensation and thrill of being caught. Any moment now, your brother would come looking for you and Fingon. “Fin-…Finno, close, close…please…”

“Go ahead princess, give it all to me.”

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ. Angrod

With his stern and stoic appearance, you were afraid to approach him at first since he barely spoke to you at all, but you were wrong. The way he looked at you whenever you entered the room told a different story.

He came off as a tsundere at first, always grumbling and keeping his distance, but that was just a façade to show your brother that he was serious about the bro code—not that he cared about it at all.

Any chance he had with you alone, he would strike to corner you against some surface and lock lips or run his hands up and down your body, marvelling at your figure. Whispering about how he wants you terribly and what he’ll do to you.

Your brother trusts him so much with your safety that he doesn’t realise that he’s giving Angrod exactly the time he wants to have you all to himself, and he must thank your brother for that.

Windows foggy despite the tinted glass, bare legs wrapped around an aggressive waistline and hands struggling to grip some surface, you and Angrod were trapped in the backseat of his car. His lips were attached to yours, sucking the life out of you while his hips pumped vigorously into yours. No matter how much you attempted to catch your breath, he knocked it out of your chest.

“An-…Angrod…fuck! Oh my god!” you whined against his lips as he broke the kiss to stare into the darkness between you both at his cock sliding in and out of your cunt. The lewd sounds of sweaty skins slapping against each other and the slickness of his cock pumping into your cunt traversed the car.

“I seriously…ngghh, need to thank your brother for this…opportunity. Couldn’t have done it without him,” he groaned and breathed against your neck when your walls clamped down on him. The feel of your gummy walls around his cock was divine after all those months of waiting. “I’ll have to send him a gift; his little sister is not so innocent anymore…huh?”

Widening your eyes at the suggestion, your legs naturally tightened around his waist for him to finish inside you and return to your brother. The thrill of being claimed by his best friend was exhilarating, and you didn’t want for this to be the only occurrence. Nodding your head with glossy eyes, you whined and begged him, “P-Please, Angrod…fill me up, ruin me! P-…Please!”

Loving the teary look in your eyes, he couldn’t be more pleased to comply with his princess's wishes. “Anything you ask for princess.”

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ. Egalmoth

He will outrightly flirt with you before your brother’s eyes but in a more subtle manner to not make things awkward or to break the bro code. In private when your brother isn’t there, he’ll lay all the sexual innuendos while cornering you.

His eyes are always dark and glossy whenever he’s staring at you and if anyone ever noticed him, they would understand the meaning of his gaze. Egalmoth has no shame in eye-fucking you as you stand before him and ask if he likes your outfit.

Always biting or licking his lips whenever he’s speaking with you (that is when no one’s around) or making some serious sexual eye contact. You could feel his desire to fuck you every time he’s around you.

It’s awfully easy for Egalmoth to have his way with you, even when your brother is around because he’s just smooth and naturally mysterious with his actions. The both of you could be sitting beside each other and your brother wouldn’t have a clue.

The images on the screen were bright but blurred with the vigorous motion of two fingers pumping in and out of your cunt at a steady pace. Given the dark settings of the room and the blanket that covered both you and Egalmoth—since the cold air conditioner was the excuse—your bother was oblivious to Egalmoth fucking you under the covering. All your attempts at stifling your moans were vanishing the faster his fingers worked.

“Eg-…Egalmoth…ughh…” you moaned into his neck while his lips were by your ear whispering intense levels of filth.

“Are you cum all over my fingers pretty girl, huh? Right in front of your brother? I thought you were innocent babygirl?” he taunted while nibbling on your earlobe. His fingers in accordance dug deeper and curled against your soft spot, earning him a sharp pain to his biceps. Your nails were clawing into his bare arm and leaving moon crescents. “You look so pretty when you when you cry like that.”

Breathlessly wheezing, you pushed your face into his neck deeper and clung to him while cutting your clueless brother a look from the corner of your eye. His eyes were still glued to the show which meant that Egalmoth wasn’t letting up. “He’ll catch us…hurry up…ngghh.”

Pulling his fingers out and laughing at your whines, he pushed three in this time and immediately went after your soft spot. Curling and pressing against your gummy walls and relishing in its softness, he groaned into your ear, “After you’ve cum all over my fingers princess, you’re cum on my cock later, hmm? But you gotta cum for me first baby…”

Thrusting your hips upwards as he rocked his fingers, the coil and pressure grew instantaneously, and came all over his fingers. A loud squelch echoed when he withdrew his fingers and brought them to his lips to have a taste. Maintaining eye contact as he did so when he was finished, he leaned over to land a chaste kiss on your lips and whispered, “You taste good, but I want more.”

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ. Beleg

No one would ever suspect he was already fucking you behind your brother’s back. Not the sweet, friendly and charming boy who was friends with everyone and all the animals loved. Not the sweet boy would do voluntary work at the community centre.

Beleg was the last person anyone would assume to be visiting you, when he was away at college behind your brother’s back, to spend some quality time with his princess. He would make the extra effort to make the trip to spend a few hours and then vanish.

Always complimenting, in private, how beautiful you looked in your outfit and getting filthier with he was fucking you. Making sure that you understood just how much he wanted to let everyone know you were a spectacle in your outfit.

He uses friendly flirtations to get away with having your all to himself when your brother wasn’t looking. Whether it be in your house or away at college, Beleg was making it his business to see his favourite babygirl.

“You know, you can make all the nose you want, right princess? Your brother’s fast asleep, he can’t hear us.” His puppy eyes flashed up at you while you sat without your underwear, on his chest. He was attempting to have you sit on his face since it was the first time in months he was seeing you, and you were fucking without your brother hovering (though he was sleeping next door). “Come have a seat love, I missed you.”

From rubbing your thighs with his thumbs, his hands gripped them with eagerness and dragged you forward to drop into his mouth. The minute you sat on his face; you squealed once his tongue wasted no time to reach out a lick a bold stripe. Twisting and flicking your clit, his lips formed a suction to suckle your clit while his fingers dug into your flesh and left prints.

Beleg was lost in paradise between your legs without a care in the world knowing that your brother was miles away and he had you all to himself. Every cry and moan you made, he devoured and dipped his tongue to push it past your folds. Hardening his tongue and thrusting it enthusiastically in and out, he groaned as your fingers entangled in his silvery strands and tugged. “Hmm, you’re so damn perfect every time I have you, but today…you’re even better…come on princess, be louder. Cum all over my face!”

“B-…Beleg, fuck! You feel so good!” you cried out as his hands urged your hips to rock against his mouth. You could see the gloss smeared on his nose and cheeks from the light, but Beleg didn’t seem to care. He was pleased to be between your legs and basking in paradise as he longed for. It irritated him that your brother was home, and he couldn’t behave as freely as desired, but he’ll make the moment worth it. Being away at college and not having you around was hellish.

“That's it, princess, just like that, you’re so close. You taste so good on my tongue,” he groaned before pressing his tongue against your clit for a languid flick.

Choking on a muffled sob, you had forgotten about keeping tabs on the door to ensure it wasn’t opened and tossed your head backwards. Your body was easily consumed in convulsed once the coil had snapped and released at the built-up pressure and frustration of missing Beleg. On his end, he had refused to let you escape his grip, pushing you into overstimulation all to have a taste.

“Let’s see if you can be a little louder, hmm? Round two.”

Masterlist

Taglist: @lilmelily @eunoiaastralwings @koyunsoncizeri @ranhanabi777 @someoneinthestars @mysticmoomin @aconstructofamind @rain-on-my-umbrella @the-phantom-of-arda @singleteapot @wandererindreams @asianbutnotjapanese @ilu-stripes @justellie17 @justjane @silverose365 @bunson-burner @batsyforyou

[francis-writes]

Would you be up for a Rabban NSFW alphabet like you did for Feyd?

A/N: I am sorry for everyone but I can't stop writing "Beast" Rabban as a babygirl and affection starved cutie.

RABBAN HARKONNEN NSFW ALPHABET

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He's not used to being affectionate, but when you're a bit closer, he likes to cuddle with you before falling asleep. He also makes sure if you need something like a drink or a towel (still he will get a servant to bring it)

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

For you, it's hard to choose just one part, but if he has to, it would be your lips. For the way they smile, and all the sounds they make - from cheerful laugh to all the gasps and moans when you're lost in each other.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

I don't think that he cares that much? In theory, as any member of noble House, he's expected to pass his genes but for him it doesn't matter. He likes to cum inside you as well as on your chest or stomach.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He is a switch but with a preference for sumbmission. He prefers to keep it a secret because he doesn't want to risk the reputation of "Beast" Rabban and he makes sure to keep his image outside, especially for his soldiers and family.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

I wouldn't say that he's the biggest fuckboy around, but he's certainly experienced. He enjoys carnal pleasures and growing up on the Harkonnen's court only encouraged him since early age to indulge in his desires.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Whatever that lets you face him. Missionary, you sitting in his lap, you riding him etc the only requirement is being able to keep eye contact and good access to your body.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Not much, especially at the beginning. Rabban feels some kind of pressure to make a good performance and impress you, so he's fully focused on this task. However, when he relaxes and feels more open with you... well, he's still not the most humorous person around, but he acts much more light-hearted and he's more eager to joke or laugh.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Just like with Feyd, I'll go here with the most recent movie look and say that he's as bald and smooth down there, as everywhere else, and it simply goes for everybody on Giedi Prime.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He's not used to being really intimate, whenever he showed his emotions (especially more delicate and positive ones), he was criticized and shunned by his uncle. He was trained to be a emotionless, ruthless soldier so now it's hard for him to open up and show other emotions than rage. But if you're together for longer time, he may learn to be more vulnerable with you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Rather often, considering that most of the time he's out with the army. He tries to see you as often as possible, but his duties don't let him stay for long. Even if you're together on Arrakis, he spends the days controlling spice production and looking for rebels so you can get intimate only during the night, if he's not too tired.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

As I already mention, praise kink and humiliation kink (but the second one not in every situation)

Also, as I said, he likes to be dominated by you. Nothing too rough or sadomasochistic, he more enjoys having a soft dom who may control him. Raban wants to be at your mercy during sex, and to see you take lead, maybe tie him if you want.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

His bedroom, where you can have full privacy and nobody will interrupt you (unless it's a matter of state, he won't accept anyone knocking on the door and everybody is rather aware of consequences of interrupting his pleasure for no good reason).

Moreover, it's much more comfortable than the conditions he got used to in army, so when he has a chance to enjoy soft, luxurious bed, he will use it.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

In matter of appearance, everything. But when it comes to behaviour, it's you being nice to him. He doesn't get much gentleness and love in his life, especially that most of his days are filled with war and fights. So getting that affectionate treatment surprises him and makes him desire to be close with you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He wouldn't deliberately hurt you, at least not hard if you're enjoying this. He may spend his days on torturing and killing but you're the exception and you have nothing to fear.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Of course, he enjoys it when you suck him off. He usually just gets lost in the feeling then, tilts back his head and closes his eyes. Sometimes he will absent-mindedly stroke your head.

He's willing to please you as well but you need to give him some advice. He's not very experienced in this field but he's willing to learn.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It just depends on his mood and how his day passed. Sometimes he just wants to relax and enjoy your body, other days he comes seething after defeat of his army or after particularly harsh conversation with his uncle, and on those days Rabban just wants to release all his frustrations.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

His busy schedule teached him to enjoy quickies and as much as he likes to take his time with you, he won't get down a possibility of a break for quick pleasure.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Rabban is willing to try new things but mostly when you suggest them. He doesn't need that much variety, so usually he just sticks with routine.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

It heavily depends on situation. Objectively, Rabban has incredible stamina and can probably go many hours, but often he comes to you after whole day spent on tiring duties and he can go only one round. So it’s mainly matter of whether you have a free day for each other or not. The other solution is to wake up earlier and fuck before he goes to work.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He isn't the biggest fan to like collect them and using everytime, but he also has nothing against them. Whatever brings you pleasure. So you mostly have vibrators and dildos for you, handcuffs or rope for when you bind him, and if you're into it, he may agree for a few other things to use at him, though not too wild (for example, he can take a butt plug but things like knife play are not his thing).

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Not much and it goes both ways. He's rather a straightforward man, and years of fighting in army only strengthened his tendency to speak clearly what he wants and to quickly take action. If you try to tease him, he enjoys it but he's too impatient to stand it for long.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Rabban isn't very good at holding back his sounds, but to be honest, he actually doesn't really try. He doesn't care if somebody hears him, he's a Harkonnen after all and who's gonna criticize him for getting his pleasure? So expect loud groans and gasps. And whispered praise when he's close.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

I would say that he is more calm and ready to settle down than his brother. I mean, if Feyd-Rautha really got into some relationship, he would probably stop seeing other lovers as well, but Rabban since always prefered to meet a few concubines he got used to and that he knew well. He kinda enjoys stability and routine.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

It's not very surprising, considering his massive shape, that his dick is thick and slightly longer than average. Nothing that wild to hurt you, but still most of the times he has to get you ready and prepared before any further action.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Higher than his duties allow him to fullfill, but he likes to be intimate with you at least a few times a week.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Usually it doesn't takes long before he falls asleep. He's spent after sex but also - most of the time - he has a tiring day behind him, and all the energy he has left, goes on time with you.