#i love rambling in tags sorry LOLL

[spoopup]

UM. heres this. my hand hurts

[toji-bunny-girl]

bartender toji fucking the living daylights out of us after a nasty breakup ? also have a nice day

ON THE H★USE !!

#𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐀𝐆 ⟢ bartender!Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader #𝑺𝒀𝑵𝑶𝑷𝑺𝑰𝑺 ⟢ riding the hot bartender after a break up is the least expected thing you’ll ever think of #𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 ⟢ alcohol, pet names, foreplay, fingering, teasing, grinding, pre-cum, no protection, creampie, car sex, nipple play, squirting, size difference, big dick toji papa, alpha toji with xxxxxxxxl dick, multiple orgasm, one-sided drunk sex (?), power play, I’m so lazy to do tags, who even reads content warnings tbh #𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑻 ⟢ 4k #𝑨/𝑵 ⟢ don’t let this flop guys I spent way too much time on this when I should be studying for my exam 😭

“Plus, he literally had to beg me to act like I was cummin’ when he stuck his sorry excuse of a dick in me!” your eyelids hung heavily over your eyes as you exclaimed, brows shooting down in a frown. “Get a load of that guy, am I right?”

“He doesn’t pay for your stuff, and he can’t fuck good?!” Toji teasingly mirrored your tone as he manoeuvre behind the bar, uniform taut from the way he natchly flexed his arms; the bottles clinking as he worked deftly to craft out the beverage you ordered. “What a man.”

It has been 2 hours since you’ve been rambling on about your ex-boyfriend, and the ravenette felt like he’d known this stranger for years—all of his secrets and traits aired into his ears. Albeit, it was getting a bit boring, with the same repeated stories tumbling out of your voluble mouth. But still, he enjoyed chuckling at your adorable insobriety, fuelled by drunken mania. 

“Here you go, princess,” a small tug lifted the ends of his scarred lips when your eyes patently glimmered at the newly served alcohol. “It’s the last I can give you, we’re closing…” Toji’s eyes momentarily flickered to his watch, “in 7 minutes.”

“Oh, okay!” you deliriously yawped, downing the beverage into your liqueur-brimmed system before handing him your card, which you aimlessly threw at him, not even lucid of your motions. “Just swipe it.”

Toji simply brushed it off, taking it towards the other side of the counter. He's used to unintentional antics like yours, as long as the tab was paid off he has no problem with them. 

15,900 yen. 

The digits flashed past his eyes like stars, igniting a luminous glint in his dark emerald orbs. Hell, was it a sum to casually splurge on at some mid-high bar? He’s got a pretty girl with probably an equally pretty amount of personality in her wallet, sprawled on the bar top wailing about her broken heart. 

Oh, how he would love to play saviour. 

“Here, princess. Time to go home,” he tapped your card onto the counter after the successful transaction. His gruff voice was low as you drifted further from your haywired consciousness and towards a delicious drowse. You didn’t move when he neared your face, attempting to marshal up your scattered coherence by calling into your ear. 

Toji sighed as he leaned back onto his feet, and crossed his bulky arms, pondering the ways to get you out of the otherwise empty bar. 

It was 12:58 am and the other inebriated customers had gone out by themselves or with their friends dragging them along. Except for you, softly snoring on the sticky counter. 

His coworker shrugged at him when the ravennette glanced at the shorter male for help. “Just get her out of here. I’ll clean up the rest, and you owe me this one,” always so kind—how Toji wished he could smooch that man right then. 

“Thanks, man,” Toji’s eyes curved in moon crescents, before settling his sight onto your dozed frame. His finger pressed against your temple, and your head lolled to the side in suit of a light push; a trail of drool slipping past your plump lips. You were completely and utterly out of it, huh?

Grasping onto your arm, the male lightly shook you awake, the warmth from his calloused palm stimulating your nerves vivified. “Hey, Mr. Bartender…” you had an uneven smile on your crooked lips, sleepiness bubbling into the air with every laggard blink as you breathily chuckled. “Are you gonna bring me home?”

“I don’t know about that, princess,” his tone was syrupy sweet and it licked the ends of your lips upwards into a velvety grin. “But we gotta go now. Come on,” Toji’s hands came to yours, gently pulling you off of the bar stool. You followed after his guide, slipping your card into your pocket before frisking behind him like a lamb to the door. 

The burly male turned to his wrist after the door swung close in the wake of your exit, checking his watch; it read 1:04 am. The train station is closed and it’s going to kill his conscience if he leaves you by the streets like he always does with intoxicated male customers. He has no idea where you stay anyway—best to call a friend of yours to take you home. 

“(Y/N)?”

A grating, vexatious voice called. The two of you swivelled your gaze to the source to find your cheating, insipid creature of an ex with an arm thrown over some chick’s shoulders, chortling at the unstable mess you were. Your eyes were puffy and tumid from the hours of crying slash ranting session, and you were anything but lucid from the way you looked. 

How fucking lucky.

“What you got going on here? Getting kicked out of a bar?” your ex taunted, nearing his face to yours as you narrowed your eyes at him. 

“Y-You…as—”

“Have the lady some of her space, buddy,” Toji’s authoritative voice prevailed over yours as he pushed the male away, rendering him to helplessly stumble backward into a fall. The woman in his arm hid her giggle with a gasp before helping his fuming ass up, his face beet red from his ignominious tumble. 

“Who are you?” he barked, eyelids flying open to show the hidden whites and teeth bared in belligerence. 

“A man who can make her cum, without begging her to fake it,” the woman burst into a half-concealed snicker when the ravennette broke the air with his unanticipated words. Your face grew to be saturated with ardent red, from both the intoxicant that coursed through your veins and the sentence you thought you had heard.

“I call it bullshit,” your ex spat with his upper lip pulled up in disrelish. There’s a flash of humiliation in his glare—he knew Toji seemed better than him and it killed him to know you’ve got suitors who are way out of his league. 

“It’s true,” you tapped Toji’s metallically stiff chest with a twisted, satisfied smirk on your rat-arsed face. “He toootally didn’t just stick his dick in me and call it a day, y’know?”

“Fucking whore.”

“What d’ya say?!” you screeched, ready to pounce on the asshole. “I sent you to the ER once, and I’ll do it again!”

“Alright, that’s enough, princess,” Toji tenaciously held onto your arm, and you’re stuck by him even without him using much strength. “We don’t want you dirtying your hands, do we?” 

A nasty shove met the male’s chest, knocking the air out of his lungs when he hit the ground. It was merely a fraction of Toji’s force, and it already had the male choking to breathe on the ground. 

“Speak to her like that again, and it’s not going to be just a push,” you could hear the rise of a dour, serrated threat in his tone, and it begot the asshole to cower back in trepidation. 

Pussy, Toji grimace. Albeit he was no saint himself but he absolutely despises the ilk of guys your ex filtered into—boisterous and a bully to women, yet nothing but a trifling mutt in front of men.

A tug of his arm, and your limbs wrapped around his wretched him out of his state of visceral contempt. “Take me home!” you ineptly exclaimed, a gruntled grin on your adorable, roguish face. 

Briefly riveting his baleful gaze onto the splayed male on the bitumen, Toji steered you uphill towards the parking lot as you clumsily tottered aside him. 

The encounter with the small-dick fucker sure rendered him more understanding of your evening of outburst. Plus, for you to be cheated on that piece of work was truly the icing on the cake. “Poor you, huh?”

“Forget ‘bout him! You were so cool I almost cummed right there and then,” you teasingly giggled as you peered at him through your heavy eyelids. 

Fuck—it’s no good for you to be saying that with that look on your face. 

His eyes rest ahead the road as you soon come to near the bright red C8 Corvette the woman he’s estranged with had previously gifted him, the car standing out amongst the parked vehicles like a sore thumb. 

Your eyes scintillated in awe when the car luridly flashed and beeped in the night, “That’s yours?!” you cried aloud, frisking all the way to the car, before stumbling over thin air and nearly jolting forward into a fall. Luckily, Toji was quick enough to catch you by your arm, saving your knee a painful event of bloody excoriation. “Oopsie daisie.”

Cute, Toji chortled. 

Jumping into the vehicle, the potent roar of the engine cut through the midnight air after you’ve settled neatly in the passenger seat, the only thing missing was the safety belt that was supposed to secure your form. Reaching to your side, Toji’s hand briefly brushed over your exposed thigh, the hem of your short dress riding up to merely cover your panty. 

A soft, almost inaudible noise fled your lips, and his eyes laid on your face, the faint, intimate gold beam from the street lamp illuminating your glowing features. Your orbs were luminous through the dark, and it roused an innate lasciviousness that lay dormant in his core. 

The liquor that flowed through your blood vessels had not quelled through the lapse of time, but it did not take away your clarity to feel the tension that electrified the air molecules into sweltering magnetism. And gosh do you want to snatch the constriction in the atmosphere and tear it through your canines. 

“Touch me,” you whispered, so soft and vulnerable Toji could seemingly snap you in half with just a touch. 

“You’re drunk, princess,” he reminded, yet he remained unshifted over your smaller frame, his hand merely a molecule from your tempting flesh that sang for his warmth. 

“No,” you were firm. Something in you purled, bubbling a heavy, demanding need to have him devour you. “I want you,” your breath was hot, scorchingly so; airy and desperate. 

“You want me?” his hand fell to your wrist, grasping your soft skin under his heavy hold, and guiding you over to his seat, straddling his lap. His gaze cut through your eyes, daubing pressure against your jumbled nerves, his intensity threatened to slice through the silky jugular of your vulnerability. And you nearly moaned under his eyes.

You gingerly nodded at him, and you thought the knit between your brows was enough to speak for your neediness. 

His grip on your wrist tightened a fraction before you missed the heat radiating from his palm. “Careful, princess. You might regret this,” he had paved a way out, it’s a leave it or fuck it situation served beneath your fingertip—and all the atoms in your body leaped into the growling blaze in the abyss residing in his essence. 

“Please,” your voice was barely a note above a mumble, yet the weight of your single word mitigated any marshalled resistance in him. 

His hands slid up your thighs, inching under your dress, sending tingles to your throbbing core. The intensity that radiated from him ceased to waver as he leaned against your neck, brushing against your skin as you gulped. Dark, ashen clouds drew above the emerald forest of his before he spoke, almost threateningly against your throat, “I want you to remember every single detail of this in the morning.”

With a breathless nod, you had swung the floodgates of your amenability open to his guttural thirst. The heavy, rapacious waves of your desires crash into superposition. You were the fuel and he was the fire, together the air detonated into space. 

His wet lips met yours in a whim, sucking onto your flesh until it stung, greedily tasting every crook and cranny of your wet cavern with the bumps of his tongue. You moaned into his mouth as your hands flew to clutch onto his head, deepening the kiss to reach his insides while his rough fingers sank into the plump flesh of your ass. 

Your lips burned with his saliva, and his tongue fluttered with yours. The atmosphere felt all-consuming, gripping onto your throat and restricting the air from flushing down your windpipe. Yet, your core pulsed between your thighs, an excited blaze slowly roaring into something bigger than you could handle. 

Your chest rose and fell in a quick tempo when you snatched your lips away from his, grasping as much air as you could within a second before you dove right into him. Albeit your sight was hazy, you caught sight of the luminous flush that panned over his cheeks. 

Pretty, pretty. You chanted in your head as your hands slid down to his clothes, clumsily popping the buttons off of the garment that kept the warmth of his skin away from your touch. You want him, you want him. 

Your fingers nearly melted when they met his hot, sinewy chest, and Toji’s teeth sank a little too hard into your bottom lip when you teased his nipples under your touch, innervating them hard with every flick. The salient bulge in his pants rolled against your folds, merely separated by an annoying piece of your underwear, and your moans jumbled into each other’s mouths

“Fuck, princess. You’re driving me crazy,” Toji breathily groaned when your sloppy lips sundered apart, a hot string of mixed saliva connecting your swollen, red lips together. His large hands lifted your ass up into the air as he palmed them, the warmth from him sending a snuggly sensation through your body. “It’s no fun when only you get to tease.”

Your eyes playfully gleamed, before the light shot out of the crater of your orbs—his finger pressed against your sodden panty, damp with arousal. The tingles shyly reached through your belly as he rubbed your hardening bud, and your body shuddered against his. 

“You’re not playing fair,” he murmured against your jaw, leaving trails of bruised kisses down your jugular. His hand left your heat just as the high came close to your clutch, leaving you with nothing but the lingering cold touches of his. 

With a defeated sigh, you ground your knee against his growing hardness, your finger shyly rubbing against the clothed tip of the constrained mount, the spot slowly growing dark from amativeness. 

Toji sunk deeper into the headrest as you touched him, his exposed chest ceaselessly rising and falling. His breath hitched in his throat when you twirled his sensitive nipple between your fingers; your heated exhales warming the side of his neck as his grip almost painfully firmed onto the fat of your ass. 

You didn’t allow his peaking orgasm to come through, forcing yourself off of his sore, throbbing erection, and your teeth bared into a dirty smile. “I am playing fair.”

“You want to test me, princess?” he chuckled, the bassy timbre of his scratching the knot of an itch inside your ears. A gasp leaped out of your throat as your body jolted forward, his seat clicked backward to its maximum taut, “I’ll make you cry for more.”

You found your back nestled in his stead, your thighs spread open with his calloused hand slipping down your supple flesh. His fingers tapped nearer and nearer to your heat, before slipping off your soiled panty. 

“So fuckin’ wet,” Toji sucked an inhale through his teeth as he leered at your dripping sex—thick, rough thumb fluttering friction on your clit once again. Your eyelids flitted shut as you softly moaned against the air, the smell of your arousal filled the confinement of the car; the scent nearly making him growl when it panged hard against his nostrils. 

You watched as Toji slipped a thick finger into your velvety folds, feeling it trodding past your walls. Your heat snugly enveloped him as he filled your inside with another digit, his two fingers pressing, and running themselves over your slick cunny. “Gotta stretch you good for me, princess.” 

Your back inched into the seat with a contented sigh, enjoying the build-up of ticklish pressure stacking up your tummy. Toji was ridiculously dexterous with his fingers—deftly stroking your cunt, and quick to find the spot in you that innervated your pure senses with a ting. 

“S-Shit—” your body was subservient to his touches; your spine curved into an arch, your toes curled tight and your fingernails dug into the flesh of his arm. “M’feel so good. Toji—fuck,” it was as if his fingers were gilded in Eros’ heavenly blessing, the godly grace spilling into your pleasure. Tears began prickling at the sides of your eyes from how hard you were squeezing them, your flailing legs kicking against the dashboard of his car. 

“So pretty when you cry,” Toji groaned under his breath, his damp restraints painfully throbbing from the way your squelching walls tightened around his fingers—oh, how he fucking wish it was his cock in you right there and then. 

His touches were singing your walls into melting squirts of drool, pearls of arousal weeping between your thighs in the wake of his careful strokes. Never were you touched in such a way, and you felt like balling from how good it felt. “M’ close! M’gonna cum! Oh my gosh—!”

“Come on. Cum for me, princess,” you could hear his smirk in his voice as pleasure kissed your senses, fluttering through your electrified nerves and sending a jolt of tingles all over your body. Your mouth was lax open into an ‘o’, nails marking his skin as they sank deeper into his arm, and your walls tightly spasmed with a wave of rough euphoria cracking your bones weak. You fucking came from his mere fingers. 

Your eyes bat open with your lips sundered from your pants, your face ardently glowing from your subduing high. “Fuck…” your wet thighs quivered from the sheer force of your orgasm, and you blinked in disbelief. 

Over 2 decades of living and it was the first time cumming from a real man, not your fingers nor toys. But the brawny, sex-dripped male slipping your dress off of your spent body. 

You almost fell in love. 

Pushing him down the driver’s seat, you crawled over Toji’s firm thighs, running your finger from his chest to his muscle-packed abdomen, then down to the wristband. You were flickering to take charge, and he sank down to your guidance, rough palms resting on your hips. 

Your dress was off, divulging the bare curves of your body, sweat-glazed skin iridescent under the moonbeam and your sex-flushed features were begging for him. You look so, fucking, perfect that he had to bite down the need to ruin you on the spot. 

His hips impatiently thrust upwards into your sticky cunt, grinding his pack against you, urgency in his essence demanding your heat. “Don’t keep me waiting now,” he purred, with a silent warning tagging behind his words. 

Your fingers tugged the waistband of his pants along with his briefs, a drive in you matching his pacing hastiness. His shaft sprang out of its painful confinement, and your eyes nearly popped out from the sheer look of his cock. 

He was oozing with sticky pre-cum from his angry, red tip, throbbing veins ran from the base of his length to the curved head—the size of him bigger than any you’ve seen. The smell of his masculine essence hit your senses and a new pool of arousal began drawing in your tummy, your pussy walls squeezing in empty neediness.

“There’s no backing out now, princess,” Toji’s fingers firmly gripped onto your ass, lifting you over his cock, hovering.

“Who said I’m backing out?” you gulped, before lowering yourself down, his fat cockhead kissing your pussy lips before your hips greedily sank down his length, oblivious to the crackle of tingles it would send to your nerves.

“Careful there,” he teased with a chuckle as you let out an instinctual gasp from the way his girth stretched past your velvety walls, the slick sound of your arousal-dripped cunt, and his heavy shaft bubbled into the air, and scorched your cheeks red.

“M-My gosh…” you cried as your hazy gaze fell to the bulge jutting from the inside of your tummy, your walls taut with his heavy cock buried inside you. “I’m s’full, Toji.”

“Mhm,” he cooed, brushing his hands over the sides of your smooth thighs. “But you gotta start moving, baby.”

Gingerly, you lift your hips up before slowly inching them down his length. Your walls clenched as your sex rubbed friction, and you could feel every pulsing vein of his just as he could feel your fluttering warmth.

“Feel good, princess?” Toji asked breathily, your head faintly nodded, but there was a hint of a dubious glint in your fallen gaze, your knees lifting and sinking your weight.

“I need your help…” your voice cracked in disappointment as you paused, tears of frustration edging by your eyes. You couldn’t seem to grasp a steady pace no matter how long you painfully rode.

“What d’ya say?”

Your orbs looked as though they were melting off of your sweat-glazed skin, blinks of fervourish plea clawing from your drunken gaze into his. “Please, Toji,” your voice hitched, and you’re humping his pelvis. “Please…I want to feel good.”

Aww. How fucking adorable.

You yelped when you felt yourself being raised and slammed down his cock, your folds burning with every stretch of your walls. And it feels so good. “Y-Yes…” your eyes closed shut, fingers scrambling to grip his locks. “T-Toji—mhaa!”

“You’re so fuckin’ cute screaming my name,” the curve of his tip perfectly kissed your g-spot with each piston of his hips, and every time the twitching head of his meat met your gummy part, it sent a flash of electricity up your spine.

“S-Sho good—” you slurred through your words, weighed head lolling idly to every thrust of his fat cock.

“No one can get you dripping off their cock like this, huh?”

“Mmh—yes!” the space between your brows was crumpled into a tensed frown, your hips bouncing up and down his thick girth with his hands guiding your pace. “I love it! I love your cock!”

Toji let out a low groan when you cried, bucking himself deeper into your sloppy mess of a cunt and kissing the surface of your cervix. “Fuck—I love an honest girl.”

Your muscles nearly melted off of your bones as he continued to fucked himself deeper than you’ve ever felt, reaching the parts you didn’t know could be touched and your features dropped with his touches on your deep intimacy. A fierce sear of heat burned through your tingling womb, and it threatened to consume your body whole. “M’ cummin’! Toji—!”

“I know, I know, let it out f’me. Come on,” he grunted, keeping his grip firm on your arms as he fucked himself hard and deep into you. He could feel your squelching cunny clench, so tight as for the purpose of milking him on the spot. “Keep bouncin’ on my cock, yeah?”

“Nngh—No more!” you squealed. “N-No—” his thumb drew between your shaking thighs and greedily swiped over your blushing clit. Your fingernails sank into your palms as you gripped for dear sanity, his cock continuously violating your fluttering spots until they grew sore.

“I can make you feel better, princess,” he mumbled tinglingly against your neck, sinking his teeth down your flesh to hold back a shaky moan. His pleasure was inching to fly to release, and your tight clutch onto his shaft was nothing but a catalytic lure.

“S’ hurts—please!” your babbles were almost indecipherable as he rammed into your sore cunt, his fingers digging into your soft flesh holding onto you tenaciously; pushing you right to the edge of oblivion as he clung onto his nearing release.

“Cum f’me again, baby?”

“M’can’t! Still sensitive—!” you cried before another orgasm shot through your core. You felt as if you were sent up into the ether, stars teeming through your body as the waves of pleasure sent you on a vertigo ride. Your gasps dragged through your lips, your eyelids hung heavily over your bleary eyes, with tears slipping down your hot cheeks.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—M’close too, baby,” Toji swore through his bared teeth, his cock painfully twitching as thick semen surged through his tip—his hips rolled as your cunt squeezed his remaining sanity, popping them like fireworks before they burst into nothingness.

Your essence squirted out of your tensed cunny, shooting with his mixed cum that dripped down his belly. Your breaths shaky and hot with heightened senses, your sticky sex pulsing in overstimulation.

Exhausted, you fell prostrated on top of his hard muscle-built body, head undulating with the ups and downs of his heaving chest. And slowly, your cognisance drifted back into your mind, the aftermath of everything—the alcohol and the sex, pummelled into you like a heavy truck. Unforgivingly so.

“Toji…I really feel like pukin—”

© toji-bunny-girl ― all rights reserved. do not modify, translate, plagiarise or repost my work

[mochinon-yah]

Pssst, @meimeimeirin, as haitham's certified wife, would he do something like this-

— YOUR LOVE.

(Alhaitham x Reader)

Your love was as passionate as the golden light shining through the open windows as you and your lover both lovingly look at each other in the morning. It was like this every single day. No amount of anger, fights, and pettiness could dissolve such wondrous moment from both of your life. You loved him, and he did too. He alone believed that it was an unbreakable fact.

He also remembered how much you loved every other little things in the world. The way your eyes would shine brightly at the sight of a cat. Your cat, to be exact. You always said that its grey fur reminded you of him, even the cat's stoic-like personality was similar to him as well. It was funny, really. He never liked it when people speak nonsense, just like what you did then, but oh boy, he fell deeper in love with you after you said that. It was truly funny. Love had always been such a foreign concept, yet he tried to learn it as best as he could. He wanted to love you as much as you do to him. But with you now gone, who will be the one to teach him?

He can't let another have a go through his heart. You were already enough. It was only you who could fill that empty abyss of a heart. Knowing that there was no way of bringing you back, he fell into a lonely road of remembrance. He missed you all too well. He missed you every time his consciousness returned after being woken up from his slumber. He missed you. Your warm embrace was now left with him only trying to gain warmth from the sun's light.

From the start of the morning till the end of the moon shining, he missed you. It was just you, you, and you in his mind.

You just loved too much, and it hurts him. The blues, the greens, the greys, and even him. He, who you said was one of the most insufferable men that you've known, was loved by such a charming person. He was loved by none other than you. So, with you now gone, he couldn't quite imagine how hard the pain would inflict itself on him. Ironically enough, it went beyond the imagined.

Maybe that was why he stayed coop up inside his house after the announcement of your death. Maybe that was why all the mirrors inside his house was thrown away into the storage room. Maybe that was why he couldn't look at himself normally anymore. He, himself, reminded him of you. The way you would always compliment his cat-like eyes, his grey hair, and his cold yet warm approach made him stayed in that particular past—not wanting to move into a future where you did not exist. He did not want to exist.

All he wanted now was to be by your side, yet that was impossible. After all, he promised you. He promised to live well, even if you were gone now.

"I tried to live as best as I could, love, but it's hard. With you gone, I feel like the whole world has stopped working too. It was all too sudden, and I was forced to try and accept it. But, I just can't. Now, I'm sitting here on our old couch, looking through the window as the light of the sun hits me once again. Yet, there's something missing. After looking around, i found the problem. It's you, my dear. You are not in my arms, and it pains me to realise that. I cannot live without you, but you made me promise that exact reality. I have to go on living in this pathetic world with you not in it. Ah... I miss you, love, and I miss your love."

- Alhaitham, your beloved.

[eilaafterhours]

Patience [Grim | Casper]

Content: AFAB Reader, Light Dom/Sub, Blindfolds, Restraints, Men Crying, Cowgirl Position, Pet Names, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert

Pronouns: None (AFAB)

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!

Remember: I’ll block you if I catch your ageless or under age (not 18+) ass in my activity :)

This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.

"How...how much longer must I remain like...this?"

The two of you had gotten into an argument about patience. He made the proclamation that he was leagues more patient than you, and instead of refuting him, you instead offered a challenge.  

You turned your attention to your partner, smiling at his flushed features. 

He was on your bed, spread wide on his knees. His arms were bound behind his back, and a blindfold hid his gaze. His entire body was coated in a thin layer of sweat, certain parts of his body flushed beautifully red.

Especially the head of his weeping cock.

You swiped the creamy slick away with your thumb, relishing in the way his hips bucked. 

"Ah, so needy..." You rested your clean hand on his cheek, "Open."

He did as he was told. Tilting his head up a bit, tongue lolling out. You placed your thumb on his tongue, and he closed around it immediately, sucking it clean.

"You cleaned it so good." You ran a hand through his hair, removing the blindfold in the process. "Hi there, pretty boy."

"S-sunshine..." His eyelids fluttered close, a curtain of white standing out against the deep red on his checks. "Please."

"Has your patience run thin, Casper?" His teeth caught his bottom lip, "Do you want me to help you?"

You moved to straddle him, sighing through your nose as the weight of his heavy cock settled against your stomach. 

The contact made him squirm a bit, "Ah—un...!"

You wedged your hand between your bodies, wrapping it firmly around his shaft. "Should I let you fuck my hand like this?" 

"Mmm..." You were sure that he was getting caught up in the fantasy, not even realizing that he had begun fucking your hand. 

You let him go for a bit, letting his moans go from soft and airy to restrained and from his throat. 

He was so close. 

You gave him a firm squeeze. 

He stopped moving. 

"So you're the only one who can get off? Naughty boy."

"I'm—fuck—sorry!" Tears slipped down his cheeks. 

"Ah, I've gone too far." You kissed them away. "And you've done so good for me."

He finally opened his eyes to look at you, "Have I?"

You nodded, giving him a soft kiss. "And now it's time for your reward."

You lifted your hips, lining yourself up, then lowered yourself on his cock. Both of you threw your heads back at the sudden heat and fullness. 

Very quickly did the two of you lose yourselves in the chase for ecstasy. He didn't last very long, but that didn't matter because the look on his face and the feeling of his cum filling you, being pushed in and out of you from you bouncing on his dick had you barreling into your own release. 

Once you had caught your breath, you undid the binds from around his arms. You squeaked as they immediately found your waist, dragging you down with him as he let his body go to exhaustion. You let him, resting your head on his chest as his chin nestled on the top of your head.

"So...who's got more patience than whom?" You asked.

"...I'd say it's a tie."

You shot up. "How is it a tie?"

"I may have been tested, but as the proctor, you gave into your lust and came very shortly after me." He smirked.

"Well, I wasn't being tested, so it doesn't matter."

"It does."

"Does not!"

"It does."

And it went like that for a short while longer until the sticky feeling between your legs became too uncomfortable and a bath was more important than who was right. 

Oh well, you'd just have to test him again. 

:)

I don't have much to say, actually. This is my comeback, and it's in a new fandom, um….yeah.

Welp, enjoy!

Masterlist

[scoops-aboy86]

wc: 4849 | Rating: T | CW: greening out, recreational drug use | Additional Tags: new years fic, pining, Steve Harrington’s bisexual awakening/crisis, love confessions, getting together

note: the apple cider mentioned is not hard cider, just the stuff that’s like apple juice but better 

(also on ao3)

Drink A Cup of Kindness Yet

It’s New Year’s Eve, and Steve Harrington is greening out. 

Which, really, isn’t his fault. He’s smoked before, had pot brownies that had tasted even worse than these ones, it’s just been a while. Who knew that your tolerance could completely reset itself after only… six months. 

And, okay, maybe that happens to coincide exactly with the length of time Eddie’s been away on Corroded Coffin’s first tour. Whatever Robin says, it’s not because he’s been pining. Who’s ever heard of missing something you never even had?

(Steve’s heard. Steve’s done it. Sometimes he still misses being with Nancy even though he knows, knows he never really had her heart, not fully. Or his parents’ warmth and affection, projected onto his childhood memories mostly from heartwarming movies because they’re just not that kind of people in real life. But… shut up.)

So now he’s here, balled up on the Buckley family’s sofa like one wrong move will send him toppling to the floor and too warm, so overheated that his body doesn’t feel like it’s fitted on its bones right. With Eddie holding his hand—stupid, after all the time they’ve spent smoking together before Eddie’s music career started taking off. The guy was always up for a toke, and Steve had taken advantage of that to spend more and more time with him until real life cut Steve off cold turkey. 

From the weed, obviously. That… That’s the real problem here. 

“Sorry,” Steve forces out. His head lolls back against the couch; talking takes a lot of effort and concentration. “That I’m… blrrrmph.” 

That last bit is a stand in for whatever word he means that he totally can’t think of right now. It’s sarcastic and frustrated and a little bit whiny, and he’s so disappointed in himself for it. 

Eddie squeezes his hand. “Don’t worry about it, Stevie. It’s my fault anyway, I shouldn’t have made the brownies so strong. Just… New Year’s, you know? I went a little overboard.”

At a loss, Steve squeezes back. On one hand, he'd be much more comfortable if Eddie were annoyed with him, because Steve is used to that response from people. On the other, he’d had a half-baked plan to maybe get up the nerve to kiss Eddie at midnight because, like, that’s what people do when the clock strikes midnight to ring in the new year. It’s just the three of them, and it’s not like he can kiss Robin, she’s basically his sister. 

But now he’s over baked. He’s wrong footed without being on his feet, pulse racing and dizzy without moving, stomach uneasy because of how out of whack his internal thermostat seems to be right now, and Eddie…

Eddie is smoothing a cool wet washcloth over his forehead, courtesy of Robin—who only had one bite of brownie to start with as a precaution, and ended up a perfectly manageable amount of high. On one hand, Steve hates that about her not while he himself is so incapacitated. On the other, he loves her for being able to bring him stuff. 

Wait. How many hands is that by now? What kind of many-handed creature is he building with his internal ramblings?

Eddie holds a mug to his mouth. The ceramic is cool against his bottom lip, so he allows it; stares straight into Eddie’s big, worried brown eyes while being fed sips of apple cider, sweet and cool over his tongue, down his throat. 

“Gotta stay hydrated,” Eddie is saying, a soothing murmur. “It’ll help bring you down, sweetheart. Like a parachute.”

Steve wants to shake his head, but the message to move keeps getting lost somewhere between his brain and his neck. Which is stupid, they’re right next to each other! He waits until the mug goes away, then mumbles, “Nnn. Crash.” Puffing out his cheeks, he imitates what he thinks sounds like an explosion. 

“Nuh-uh,” Eddie retorts. A crinkle appears between his eyebrows and Steve wants to smooth it out, but he can’t. He can’t. “I’d never let you crash.”

And then. Oh no. It occurs to Steve that that’s not strictly true, and it’s not even Eddie’s fault because he didn’t know. About the… the… Well, Steve doesn’t even really know, he’s spent so long carefully tiptoeing around the shape of it—can’t miss what you never had—but. Eddie left. His departure carved out a hole, a crater that marked the way they’d emergency-landed into each other's lives one terrible Spring Break and never parted until… until. 

Steve’s eyes are swimming, leaking, possibly melting out of his skull and none of it is Eddie’s fault. It’s not Eddie’s fault that he fell into the crater in his own chest and can’t climb out, can’t even move. 

Eddie’s eyes, in contrast, go wide. “Oh, Stevie, you’re okay—”

“I d-d-d,” Steve tries, stuttering and locked up and too hot and too queasy and too much. 

Another weight settles on his other side: Robin, sitting on the arm of the couch and wriggling her cold feet under him. It is, she told him once, the closest she will ever get to willingly touching his ass, and that memory wrings an incongruous, wet little laugh out of Steve even now. 

“Ride it out, dingus,” she tells him, combing fingers through his sweaty hair and, he can tell, trying to fix it for him. Not that she’s ever very good at doing so, but he appreciates the attempt. “I brought you some leftovers if you’re hungry.”

Robin’s mom loves turkey, so it’s always on the Buckley family menu for Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s Eve. It’s what they all had before the older adults went off to some party they’d been invited to and the ‘kids’ stayed behind. Now Robin’s brought him a small plate with the perfect ratio of turkey, stuffing, and jellied cranberry sauce, the kind that comes in the shape of a can. Not really finger food, but that’s how she feeds it to him whenever he flops his head from facing Eddie to facing her. 

His eyes well up again because he’s got the best people in the world here with him, and because he’s being a total loser right now but it doesn’t matter because he’s got the best people in the world here with him, and… 

Woah. Déjà vu. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles again with a sniffle. “Shitty New Year’s.”

Eddie’s still holding his hand, squeezing it again reassuringly. “Trust me, big boy, this is nothing. I tried something on the road that, like, I don’t even know what that was. And I’m supposed to know my shit right? Ended up trashing a hotel room, which was… a classic rockstar move, actually, but it felt terrible. Especially after. You can’t help a bad trip while it’s happening, just gotta take steps once it’s over to make sure it never happens again.” He pauses. “And that’s why me and all the guys have made a blood pact not to accept anything from groupies, roadies, or music execs anymore.”

Robin, from where Steve isn’t looking, hums. “Naming that many sources doesn’t sound like it was just a one time mistake.”

Eddie shrugs, a motion that flows all the way up Steve’s arm from their clasped hands. “Well, there are four of us, so.”

Steve doesn’t want to think about what Eddie is or isn’t doing, what he is or isn’t accepting, from groupies. Distantly, he can feel his face doing something—pouting, maybe—as he whines and tips closer into Eddie’s space. Ends up with his face smooshed against the other man’s collarbone and throat, touching both threadbare band t-shirt and bare, stubbled skin. Now that he’s out of Robin’s reach, Eddie takes over stroking his hair after only a brief hesitation. 

And, like. Not to downplay how much Steve appreciates Robin, but this is better. He’s not sure why, it just is. If Eddie keeps going, he could probably stay here forever, just like this. 

Which is how he dozes off, all sense of time melting away until he merely exists, a seamless transition from being cradled by Eddie in real life to surrounded by him in a dream. 

~

Steve wakes with a snort to find himself almost right where he’d started, except instead of tucked into the corner of the couch he’s tucked into Eddie’s lap, probably squashing the other man’s legs numb. Instead of holding his hand, Eddie’s other arm is wrapped firmly around his back, holding him securely in place; the hand that had been in Steve’s is now holding several playing cards. Dick Clark’s Rockin’ Eve plays on low in the background, light shifting through the otherwise dim room. 

“Go fish,” Eddie crows softly, then turns to Steve as Robin huffs and takes a card from the draw pile. “Hey there, Sleeping Beauty. You feeling better?”

Feeling humiliated is more like it. Can’t even handle his—But at the same time, something in Steve has settled. A crater filled in. He doesn’t pick his head up, but he does bring a hand to his mouth to wipe away an embarrassing amount of drool, and tries clumsily to wipe it with the edge of his sleeve from where Eddie’s neck meets his shoulder, too. 

“M’fine,” he mutters, not totally convinced this is true. He feels clearer, sure, but definitely still high. He’s still sleepy, muscles lax, comfortable where he is. Embarrassment isn’t quite enough to make him move yet, drool or not. 

To hell with new year traditions though, because he can’t try for a midnight kiss now; his luck tonight has been way too bad already. And besides, he hasn’t even admitted to Robin he’s having these thoughts first, which is probably a soulmate faux pas. Kissing Eddie without consulting her first seems borderline rude. Or something. 

(More like he’s being a coward, but he’s pretty sure his reasons are, you know. Reasonable.)

He squints at the cards in Eddie’s hand. “Ask for sevens.”

“Okay. Got any sevens, Birdie?” There’s something warm and affectionate in Eddie’s tone. A smile, maybe—something Steve had missed while he was conked out. 

“Two against one, no fair,” Robin grumbles, but hands over a card. 

They play for a little while longer like that, until Robin is eventually placated by winning despite the allegedly unfair player imbalance. When she bounces up to get them all refills of cider in time for the midnight countdown, Eddie gets Steve’s attention by leaning back just enough to make eye contact. 

“Hey Stevie. I’m really sorry I didn’t warn you about the brownies… I should probably take a tolerance break, I barely even felt it and that clashes with my personal values.” The smile Eddie shoots at him is lopsided, dimple popping on one side in a way that makes Steve want to cup his cheek in one hand and pull him close until their mouths touch. Fuck. “Gotta be easier on the wallet and get back to those days of being a cheap date, otherwise I lose some of my already questionable appeal.”

“‘S not questionable,” Steve protests through a yawn. “You’re nice.”

“To you,” Eddie retorts. “To everyone else, I’m mean as a snake.”

His voice is gone quiet again. If Steve didn’t know any better he’d think it was shy—but Eddie Munson doesn’t do shy, there’s no way. Eddie Munson… is a goddamn rockstar trying not to stay stuck in this podunk town, and Steve finds himself smiling stupidly at him with reddened eyes that are still slightly unfocused. 

“You’re a big metal softie,” Steve says, because the record’s gotta be set straight. He taps Eddie’s nose for emphasis and chuckles when Eddie scrunches it and goes cross eyed trying to follow the motion with his eyes. 

There’s a moment where they just sort of look at each other. Steve feels so content, just looking at him. Knowing that Eddie isn’t expecting anything of him beyond being himself, which is… well, it doesn’t come easy a lot of the time, but for now he feels loose and warm. 

“Steve, can I tell you something?” Eddie whispers. 

He wants to hear what Eddie has to say. He always wants to hear everything on Eddie’s mind. So he nods. 

Gently, Eddie brushes Steve’s hair out of his eyes. (When had that gotten there?) “For a while now, I’ve—”

“Here we go!” Robin interrupts, setting their three glasses of fancy apple juice on the coffee table and flopping down behind Steve. “Do you think we have time to play another round? I bet I could kick your ass at War before the ball drops.”

“Robin,” Eddie says without breaking eye contact with Steve, “I think you forgot something in the kitchen.”

There’s a pause, presumably while Robin reads the room, and then Steve feels the couch shift as she stands again. “Oh! You know what, you’re right! I’ll just… go figure out what that was while you two keep talking, carry on.”

Even though that’s his platonic soulmate, there was never a question of turning to look at her. Steve is breathless, floating, and Eddie is all around him, just like in his dream. It’s doing something inscrutable and fantastic to his insides. (I am still really high, he thinks, and then promptly loses the thought.)

When she’s gone again, Eddie simply says, “I missed you, Steve.”

“You did?” Steve whispers. 

“Yeah. And it made me realize something.” 

He’s still busy welling up just from Eddie thinking of him while out in the big wide world at all. “What?” 

Eddie smiles, a complicated emotion sculpting his expressive face that Steve wants to map with his fingertips until he knows it like the back of his own hand. “That life’s too short not to tell someone you love them.”

What?  

“And it’s funny,” Eddie continues, “because you’d think I would’ve figured that out after nearly dying, but nope. That little epiphany waited until I left Hawkins and realized how… just how perfectly you’d folded yourself into my life. I missed seeing you, talking to you every day. And I didn’t say anything about it any of the times I called because I didn’t want to fuck up at least being friends—”

Steve gets that. It’s been the loudest of his not-quite-thoughts for months now.

“—But fuck it, alright? I love you. So I had to come back and, well… I chickened out on saying it earlier tonight, and then you got way too high and this probably isn’t the best time to dump this on you, but…” He smiles nervously. “The way you’ve been looking at me since you woke up, it’s like there’s stars in your eyes, Stevie. I don’t know if it’s for me or if it’s the weed or what, but it keeps making my heart do cartwheels. You don’t have to… I’m not asking for anything, and if you don’t feel the same way—like, romantically, I don’t mean platonic right now, just to be very, very clear—that’s okay, but I just needed you to know. That I love you.”

I love you. Just like that, unprompted. Twice. Kinda three times, even, if you count life’s too short not to tell someone you love them. 

In all of Steve’s relationships, he’s been the first to say it, always. He hasn’t said it in a long time, so it’s been a while since he’s heard it from anyone other than Robin—until this shooting star left where it had risen to in the sky to spend an honestly tame night with two best friends, one of whom can’t handle his special brownies for shit, saying that Steve fit in his life as though he’d had a crater carved in him too. Gazing at him now with a heartbreakingly open look, like he wouldn’t even hold it against him if Steve shrugged off Eddie’s arm and climbed out of his lap for this. 

And Steve, with all his walls around his heart to keep it from breaking, walls in his head around the start of thoughts about Eddie best left untouched for danger of getting in over his head… He hasn’t given himself the time or space to come to terms with any of it, but he can feel all that time spent not thinking about it welling up behind his eyes, the byproduct of pressing it all down oozing back up, and fuck. The last thing he wants is to fuck this up and lose Eddie, but that doesn’t mean he wants to cry about it. 

It happens anyway, too stoned to be any good at holding it in. 

“Oh, shit,” Eddie says, that same crinkle between his eyebrows again as he cradles Steve closer. Closer, not away, so that’s something. That’s… Steve doesn’t know if it’s what he wants right now, body responding so equally with urges to flee and relax that he ends up feeling too leaden to move. Again. “Shit, sorry, I—Do you want me to get Robin?”

Steve shakes his head violently, the inside of it as blank as an Etch-A-Sketch, and what’s wrong with him? He can’t—he would kill to talk to Robin, but he hasn’t, not about this, not for months. What the fuck is wrong with him?

She could’ve helped him sort this out, and then he might know what to say about Eddie loving him. Instead, he's sitting here in Eddie’s lap feeling like he could just as easily run a marathon or simply fall over dead. 

“I didn’t, I don’t know,” Steve says, panicking. His hands fumble, he’s not even sure what they’re trying to do until they’re clutching at Eddie, fingers twisted into the band shirt that’s so soft and faded he can’t even tell what’s on it, had been trying to puzzle it out right up until he’d gotten too high to function. “Eddie, I haven’t…”

“I know,” Eddie replies quickly, even though he doesn’t. “I’m not asking you for anything here. I wouldn’t put you on the spot like that, Steve.”

But you did, Steve thinks hysterically, because he had just by bringing it up, just by… 

Eddie is pulling Steve to rest his forehead on his shoulder, something they’ve done for each other in panic attacks and after nightmares ever since surviving the end of the world together. They’ve both done it for Robin, and she’s done it for them. This is barely different, the same gesture even if what Steve is freaking out about this time is wholly new-but-not-new, and being high through it makes things easier and harder. 

His heart is thumping hard and fast in his chest like it might burst. Maybe he wants it to. 

Maybe Eddie needs to see the messy contents of his heart and help sort through the gore and the junk to find what’s real in it, if anything. Steve doesn’t trust himself to know; he’s had trouble trusting himself with love, anyone’s love but Robin’s really, for a long time. 

“You just,” he whines into Eddie’s shoulder. “You don’t know, Eds, you—I don’t even fucking know!”

There’s a hand rubbing soothing patterns over his back, a little uncertain. “Okay, I don’t know. I’m not sure what you’re talking about, obviously, but it’s okay not to know.”

No it’s not, because Eddie deserves an answer. Eddie was brave, is brave, and Steve is… whatever this is. A mess. Maybe confused, maybe just trying to be more like Robin and mistaking his friendship with Eddie for attraction. How is he supposed to be sure? 

Steve’s fingers twist harder into the soft t-shirt material as he blurts out, “You left.” He doesn’t like how accusing it sounds, how whiney still, but now that he’s started he can’t stop. “I missed you too, you asshole, I… It’s been killing me, Eds, and I didn’t, I don’t know!”

“It’s okay not to know,” Eddie repeats, sounding dazed and maybe a little desperate, probably because Steve isn’t making any sense. 

“But I need to,” Steve argues frantically. “I can’t, I can’t fuck this up, or I’m just fucking bullshit again and I can’t—”

“No.” It’s the first firm thing Eddie has said in a while, the first thing he’s sounded sure about since I just needed you to know. He pulls back, but only enough to lift Steve’s chin to look at him, big brown eyes locking in like a tractor beam to rival the Death Star’s. “You are not bullshit.”

It’s just as devastating as hearing the opposite, like a forest fire clearing out old deadfall to make way for new things to grow.

And that’s all it takes apparently. Steve yanks Eddie forward by the shirt because he has to know. 

~

In the kitchen, Robin dawdles with getting more snacks to go with more apple cider—because, as Eddie had pointed out once Steve was down for the count, getting crossfaded on champagne would not end well. 

And then Eddie had whisper-asked, while carefully supporting a lapful of her unconscious platonic soulmate, “What do I do, Robin?” and then “He’s so…!” and eventually even “I’m too gay to survive this, Buckley.”

Which is nothing he hadn’t said to her before, so she’d just rolled her eyes and retorted, “So tell him already, dummy.”

Because she knows Steve. He doesn’t listen to his heart nearly as much as he should, too convinced that it’ll get him into trouble, but that’s because he’s a dingus. 

Now, hearing Steve start to freak out in the other room, Robin grips hard at her own hands and wavers. Should she not have encouraged Eddie? Crap. Should she go back out there? Crap, she’d been so sure that Steve felt the same way that she’d forgotten it was technically possible that he might have a bad reaction. Because, like, being cool about two girls liking each other was different from another guy liking him. She doesn’t think he’d freak out about it or anything, but she also hadn’t expected Eddie to take her advice so immediately, so clearly she’s not infallible. 

Crap, she should go back out there. Panicking, Robin grabs the dish of cranberry sauce because Steve loves that wiggly, can-shaped abomination and rushes back to the living room to—

Catch an eyeful of Steve now full-on straddling Eddie, face damp with one hand tangled with his shirt and the other in his curly hair. Steve’s eyes are closed, and so are Eddie’s as they kiss so desperately they’re almost rocking back and forth. 

She’s happy for them, but… ew. 

“Missed you,” Steve gasps between kisses. “Eds—missed you—so much—”

Eddie moans into his mouth, which frankly is more than Robin needed to hear. Thankfully, though, his own hands are at a respectable middle ground between looped around Steve’s waist and reaching for his ass. “Sweetheart—‘

They seem to be working it out. Robin’s going to retreat to the kitchen and give them a minute. 

~

Their first kiss is kind of like a traffic collision, which Steve regrets immediately. (He used to be good at this, dammit.) But Eddie—I’d never let you crash—kisses readily back, slows him with a touch to his jaw and eases the pace into something less frantic, but still eager. Easing him down like the parachute he’d promised until they’re fitted together like there’s no place they’d rather be. 

Steve has never been on someone’s lap for a kiss before. Eddie is warm beneath him, against him, arms securely around him. If he’d had any doubts, they’re melting in the warmth of how safe this feels. Like this is exactly where he’s meant to be. 

And it doesn’t hurt that Eddie is a good kisser. Or that Steve on his knees over him trying to press closer and closer, which… yep, they are definitely both starting to get hard from this. Steve can feel Eddie against him, an electric point of contact that’s unfamiliar, but feels more good than scary. 

Mostly. Because he wants—god, he wants, suddenly, so much more than he had let himself even think about before—but not right now, while he’s still stoned in Robin’s living room. It’s not like Eddie expects that, right? He said he loves him.

“M’not a groupie,” Steve reminds Eddie, whining a little into his mouth with a sudden stab of jealousy and dread. This has to be real or he’s not going to survive it. 

“Never,” Eddie pants. “Stevie, sweetheart—” he steals another kiss “—none of them are you, none of them could ever.”

“So you don’t…?”

“Have a few times,” he admits, pained but earnest. “Not in weeks. Kept thinking about you.” His hold tightens possessively, another thing Steve has never been on the receiving end before but it sends a thrill up his spine. “I kept forgetting their names and saying yours. They’re not who I want.”

Steve flushes, pleased by the thought of Eddie thinking about him while getting off but limited in imagining it because… well, he’s not totally sure how it works with two guys, beyond hand stuff. How to decide who puts what where. How does it… fit? Does Eddie like to be the, uh, the one putting it in? Oh god. God, what if Eddie does want that, but his dick is huge?! Because, like, Steve is on board with the idea of a dick in his hand, he knows what that feels like inside and out, but the rest—

He takes a shaky breath and tries to stop spiraling, but. It’s a lot. “Um, I don’t exactly know what I’m doing here, Eds. Are you sure I’ll live up to… whatever you’ve been thinking about?”

“Baby,” Eddie purrs, and there’s the rockstar shining through, soothing in its confidence when Steve feels so unsure. (Even though Corroded Coffin has achieved only moderate Midwest fame so far, Steve’s always thought he has the charisma for more.) “First of all, it would be my pleasure to show you the ropes, one thing at a time. We won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with until you tell me it’s okay. And the good thing about having an overactive imagination is that, whatever you feel good about, anything we do will be straight out of my dreams.”

He winks, and Steve ducks his head with a grin, reassured by the answer even though there’s a lot he needs to wrap his head around still.  

“And second, Big Boy, I can already tell that measuring up will not be a problem.” Punctuated by a rock of his hips that, though subtle, rubs them together just right that Steve has to bite his bottom lip to stifle a moan. 

Eddie makes a little growling sound in his throat and dips in to take that lip for himself, worrying it gently before soothing it with a kiss. A surprisingly chaste one, which Steve finds as soothing as the pleasure a moment before was electrifying. 

“And third,” Eddie continues, “me and the guys have been talking about setting up home base in Indy now that we’ve gotten started. That’s close enough to visit, at least. See where this goes. Go on—” and now his face is so endearingly hopeful it makes Steve’s heart feel too big for his chest “—dates? I don’t know where you are yet, and like I said, it’s okay if you’re not either, but that’s what I want: a relationship, in as many ways as I can get.”

“Yeah,” Steve says immediately. He’d started nodding before Eddie had even finished speaking. “Yeah, I think I want that too.”

Maybe it is okay that he doesn’t have everything quite figured out yet. And Robin had to have known, somehow, what Eddie was going to bring up when he’d shooed her out of the room; she wouldn’t have left so easily if she had any objections. She probably won’t be as mad as he’d feared about being left out of the loop. 

As if summoned by the thought, they both hear Robin call loudly from the kitchen, “Are you two done getting your gay and presumably-bisexual longing out in the open out there, or should I make popcorn while your gross boy cooties are barring me from my own couch?”

Eddie snorts, and Steve starts shaking with repressed laughter—one part snickering at his best friend’s predicament and three parts relief that she doesn’t sound mad. He’s never been more grateful that they seem to share a brain, even when he doesn’t know how to unpack his own shit sometimes. 

Though, now that he’s started, there’s a lot he wants to talk with her about. Starting with, what does it mean that he’s presumably some sort of bicycle?

“Make the popcorn anyway, we’re busy,” Eddie calls, and kisses Steve again. 

Not chaste this time. Still sweet, but with a richness and depth that Steve parts his lips for eagerly. He may not know the guy part of this but he knows kissing, knows how to adjust without pulling too hard on the reins—and that’s not so different from not really having the reins at all, really. 

It’s New Year’s Eve, and Steve Harrington is on top of the fucking world. 

Permanent tag list (ask to be added/removed):

@hotluncheddie @hiei-harringtonmunson @sofadofax @hickeysgodcomplex @oatmilk-vampire

@wheneverfeasible @hamiltonswiftie @grtwdsmwhr @yesdangerpls @theseaofdespair

[alieinthemorning]

Lost Connection [8394 | Grim | Casper]

Content: Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Character Death, Ending One: Untrustworthy Spoilers, Kingdom Hearts 358/2 Days Spoilers, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert

Pronouns: None

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!

This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries

Establishing the connection was fine (despite the prolonged eye contact that made you squirm).

Creating the bridge for him to cross was fine as well (you wouldn't say imaging a bridge is all that difficult).

The issue was after he crossed. Not only did the sudden intrusion of another soul make you jolt, but the chill of his soul made your own warm one bristle.

You tried to stay quiet as his soul poke, prodded and examined your own, but something in your gut began to twist.

"Please...stop..." You whispered as you dug your fingernails dug into your palms. "It...hurts..."

He called your name. Usually that would sooth you, ground you, but now it only seemed to rile the growing fire in you even more.

Your brows furrowed, as sweat began to gather on your forehead, "I...I can't..."

"Then calm down! I will leave, but you need to calm down first!" His voice sounded underwater. "If you don't stop, you'll be dead before I can leave!"

"Please..." You squeezed your eyes tighter, a few tears slipping free.

"Sunshine!"

And then you slipped from your chair, falling harshly against the floor.

Sweat and tears mixed as the intense heat consumed you.

Plink, plink, plink

You opened your eyes, head lolling to the side.

There were small shards of crystals on your floor.

You brought a hand up to your face.

There were crystal growing out the side of your hand.

You hummed. "So this is what nonexistence is...I thought I'd just fade away..."

Not all this, the pain and the beauty.

And yet, despite your current situation, you could only think about him.

"Grim, I'm sorry."

He gasped, as his consciousness was forced back into his body.

"Shit, shit, shit!" He leapt from his chair, teleporting from his bedroom to the waypoint closest to your apartment. "Fuck!"

His feet pounded against the asphalt, the harsh sound echoing against the buildings of the silent streets. His heart thumped wildly in his chest as his vision began to darken at the edges.

It was already beginning...

He had to get to you faster.

He quickly dropped into a crouch, building the strength of his legs and leaping into the air.  He jumped from rooftop to rooftop, willing himself to go faster and faster.

Until he stood across from your building. He eyed your window, breathing a small sigh of relief as he realized your window was slightly opened.

"Kmysuin..." He whispered as the glamour washed over him. Now to the mortals he was just a lone raven roaming the skies. Then he stepped from the rooftop, his foot connecting with solid air.

His heart was in his throat now, but he couldn't hesitate. He had to do something. Despite the facts, you were an anomaly. So maybe, just maybe, he could do something to save you.

He pulled the window open more, and stepped in.

You were on the floor, propped up against the side of your bed.

He blinked.

You smiled.

"...hi, grim..."

You were crystallizing.

He dropped beside you, pulling his legs up to his chest.

"sorry...about this..." Your head dropped onto his shoulder.

He reached out for your rapidly crystallizing hand. You weren't a warm sunbeam anymore. Now you were the sun itself. Through your connected hands, he could feel your soul as it pulsed rapidly within you.

Fighting to for your existence.

"...i didn't mean..." You paused for a moment, then gripping his hand tighter before continuing, "can i tell you...a secret, grim?"

He nodded.

"...i love you...grim"

He sniffed, finally turning to face you. "I love you too." And with those four words, his tears finally ran free. "I have a secret for you too. My actual name is Casper."

Despite the crystal encasing your face, you smiled widely. "i love you, cas—"

And then you were gone. Your body, that was fully crystallized, began to disappear into beautiful sparks of dust.

He gripped your hand harder.

Until you were finally no more.

And he was left with nothing,

He opened his hand.

But a shard of you.

"I'm so sorry, Sunshine."

No one should be surprised that the next thing I posted was angst. Truly off brand that I didn't post angst first, but I did get the 3rd ending first.

And now I've gotten the 1st!

The devs called it a mini bad ending, ha, well now I've gotten my hands on it :)

Can't wait till I get the actual bad ending :)

Small notes: I am a KH fan through and through lmao, and second, if you know what the language is for the glamour spell, you're cool :)

Ko-Fi | Commission | Masterlist

[moonstandardtime]

I was jumpscared by your old username when reading one of your ISAT fics n I was like. Wait a sec. I know this tumblr blog lmao I can just send them an ask about the fic...

Your writing is superb and your fics are among the best smut fics in the ISAT tag rn. Your style is fun to read, especially the dialogue, and you capture the inherent eroticism of cannibalism (especially in the context of loop) very well! :D

sorry it took me so long to answer this o(-( but WAHH THANK YOU..... slightly nsfw rambling under the cut loll

i love to write about Want. one of the top things to write about ever. so when i write about cannibalism its heavily in the context of hunger and sometimes jealousy and. well loop lends themself extremely well to those themes. the sex part is just another layer on top of that, adding in touch and overlapping with the Part Of You Is Inside Of Someone Else aspect of cannibalism.

cannibalism sex is kind of a desperate means to an end for most/all of my favorite aspects and types of Want—connection, touch, hunger, desire, envy... and i think desperation generally is just really hot. win-win for me.

:}

[heartsoji]

hello, everyone. its been a while.

im really sorry that i kinda dropped off the map with no notice and YES i've seen the sweet msgs dropped by anons and moots and its really sweet to know that people ive never even met think abt me and care for me. will be responding to moots privately shortly - anons, just THANK YOU SO MUCH it means the world to me that you care sm. if you ever drop off of anon, i'd love to be friends :)

ANYWAYS, the reason(s) i sorta disappeared: just some family issues! my family is going through some problems with some certain family members going through a really hard time, falling into frail health, you get the gist. it hasn't been exactly lovely, but we're working things out rn and hopefully it'll get better soon. i kinda got caught up in everything and sorta forgot about my little community ive grown here. my apologies for that.

um sorry for this lowkey rly dramatic and overly lengthy msg but i didnt rly know what to say now that ive dropped off the globe with no signal of being alive, and i feel safe enough in this community (yes, the wonderful tumblr anime SIMPS u heard me right ugs (and me tbh) R SIMPS. community.) that i dont feel the need to just hide away my problems and just say smth like, "oh i got locked outta my tumblr account!" or smth idek. i trust ugs! love these ppl ive never even met <3 (more than some of my irls, even. some of them dont know that anything happened LOLL)

MOVING ON, i'll try to be active, but no promises! i cant say fs that any real work will be put out for a little while, but the biggest lump of the issues is over, and im in a better mental space now, so i can probs do some things? idk. at the very least, ill be doing some interactions and rambles and more abusing of my "jisu talks!" tag. i love all of you, have a wonderful morning/day/night! <3

[hiroshotreplica]

oh wait i missed this. im just gonna give my thoughts on some characters so far (i think im like, right in the middle of volume 3 or smthn) (@swimspeedupabilitychunk tagging you since you asked loll)

putting this under a cut + tagging my coroika posts and further stuff like it now :D block the "alex's media ramblings" tag (no quotes) if you dont want to see posts like this in the future (i know a lot of people follow for art so...yeah)

goggles: i think he can be really funny but he's my least favorite out of blue team sorry :( i still like him tho. ill never be able to take him seriously though

specs: sopping wet cat of a guy. he has the funniest expressions and reactions ever. he's kind of pathetic sometimes but like in a cool way i think. i love him. he's my favorite

headphones: i cant describe what i think of her really. i think she's cool though.

bobble hat: I LOVE BOBBLE HAT I NEED MORE OF HER IMMEDIATELY if specs didnt have a chokehold on my brain she'd be my favorite.

rider: ok i didnt like him too much but then his like.. redemption arc happened? idk it like has nuance (i did not expect it). he's arguably like the one with the most character so far. i think he's neat

aloha: he's funny as hell i hope he gets a nice boyfriend (joke) (i still think he's gay though)

and erm i cant really think of anyone else i have more thoughts on

[hansooyung]

Hi! I’m a beginner at coloring and I really like your style of coloring. Is there anything that you do to get inspiration? and did you improve just from practice? Are there any blogs you would recommend that I can learn from too? Sorry for all the questions 😭🙏

hello!! this ask is so sweet, thank you so much!! no worries about the questions, i love receiving asks <33

i definitely improved from practice lol, if you go through my colorings tag you can see the slow progression from different styles - i think a really important part is asking yourself what you want your colorings to look like, and if you find a piece of art that you like, ask yourself what you like about it!!!

a major change in my coloring style was when i stumbled across @/aqueductaquarii 's three musketeers piece, i absolutely loved the vibrant pink and how everything looked, so i tried incorporating that into my own colorings! you definitely pick up a lot of things as you go too, at first i tried all sorts of complicated shading techniques but now i settle on simpler ones :)

when i first started out i looked to @/bkdkdh since they were the first manga colorist i followed, and their creations are wonderful!! (sadly, they've been inactive for a while). i'd also recommend @/sukerokus and @/taohs, both have wonderful styles which i absolutely love <33 aki (taohs) has an amazing manga coloring tutorial as well!!

i'm sorry for rambling so much loll, but in the end i'd say post your colorings, even if you don't think you're great at coloring yet - it's a fun way to track your progress, and someone online will always have something nice to say about them!! one of my earliest friends on tumblr was someone who reblogged my first coloring and has stuck with me since then <33. if you have any questions about anything at all, or would like me to post any tutorials or timelapses, just shoot me an ask!

[melting-morning-blues]

i am in tears. 「すずめ (suzume)」 by radwimps (ft. toaka) is definitely kiri's song!!!

beneath the cut are my interpretations of how the song fits kiri!! i may interpret the songs oddly but u just need to know that this song is so KIRI. AND I LOVE KIRI. AND I THINK PEOPLE NEED TO LISTEN TO THIS SONG!! (AND MAYBE WATCH THE MOVIE IF IT'S UP YOUR ALLEY)

also, this post is almost 1k words long because i ramble a lot 🏃 i present to u : me screaming and crying incoherently at a wall about another fictional character

"time is a sleeper, wind the soft skin, the star is a cradle, people are a mirage."

AGGHSGADH this (to me) is kiri feeling like he, in all his lives, was idly living and being washed along as time just continues ticking and ticking, and he's constantly being forgotten and belittled by people who enter and leave and enter and leave his life so quickly....

and because of how "people are a mirage", he can't tangibly seek comfort in them, no matter how much he craves that human connection that keeps SLIPPING THROUGH HIS FINGERS WHEN HE TRIES TO GRASP IT!!!! so he turns to nature for it, "wind the soft skin (this feels like an awkward translation but i'll close one eye) / the star is a cradle"!! like.... nature is soothing, it's healing, it's nurturing, you get what i mean??

and idk how much of this is canon to his character, but i know that he had lived in the mountains before to run a lodge there, so i would say that he can seek solace within nature! (also he's the water omni lord, right, so if you put two and two together, it's not far of a stretch!!!)

if this tear answers your question of why i’m crying, it can't compare to the meaning of us finding each other

OH MY GOD. forming connections, finding people he can bond and share memories and feelings with, finding that warmth to hold and cherish and honour -- these are SO important to kiri, because of how much he has lost throughout all of his lives. because of the countless people he had to let go and the many regrets that i feel he had accumulated for eons.

and (this is a Big stretch) crying alone, which creates that image of hiding away; concealing this part of himself from the rest of the world, would not compare to being able to cry with the people he could form so many meaningful bonds and memories with. because even though crying is (sort of) inconsequential and momentary, the act of sharing pain with someone/many people is brimming with vulnerability and trust. and it's SO. SO. HEARTWARMING.

(oh dear i. am rambling a lot. i'll just share a few more interpretations of lines that stood out prominently to me, but jsut know that "i found a heart that trembles only when i touch your hand / how many meanings must we overcome to get there?" wrenched my heart out of my chest)

it could be stupidity, it could be ugliness, beyond what’s right, i want to hold hands with you / i want to live with you

"stupidity", "ugliness",,, it's like, "it doesn't matter how much of myself i'm expressing, it doesn't matter how raw and desperate and enigmatic i may seem, as long as i can secure this feeling of hope, relief, comfort, assurance, satisfaction, etc etc.... i'll be content," do you get what i mean???

and i'm not saying this way of thinking is entirely healthy, but it does reveal kiri's desperation to find some kind of... validation (??) that has been very blatantly shown to us before (eg. accepting the dark core)

idk, i felt like this was worth mentioning gfjghjshfg i hope this doesn't feel too ooc of him AASFFHG

precious memories i can’t recall, these are the thoughts that can’t be put into words. maybe, just maybe, that’s all this heart is made of

why do i feel like i've only been interpreting this song through kiri's,,,, not-so-positive sides.. because these lines could convey how his personhood embodies the accumulation of experiences and memories from his previous lives. like, he's lived through so much, and yeah it's possible for him to remember what happened in his previous lives. but every memory? every feeling? every person's face, name, voice, and every experience that he deems "precious"? (and i'm sure he finds all the memories precious)

it must hurt to not be able to honour and celebrate parts of his own existence that he can't tangibly remember...

it must hurt to know that that's what he must carry within himself, as someone who has lived through eons.

--

ok this one is... very, very farfetched and it probably makes sense to me only, but there's a vocalist for this song, right? (toaka!! she's phenomenal, and her voice is so mesmerising and clear...) there are also backing vocals (most likely sung by a choir?) that feel like the "kiri"s from the past, pushing present kiri forward, providing him with courage and conviction and hope, highlighting his voice filled with emotion, determination, an endless thirst for knowledge, a yearn to fully understand and accept both his present self, his past selves, and miserea, and a hope for a brighter, more promising future.

and though his voice may waver and he may be overwhelmed with his inner voice (and multitude of memories), he still wants to shine a light and celebrate the lives "he" had lived before, so he sings along with the many "kiri"s of the past!! (THIS IS MAKING ME VERY SENTIMENTAL, CAN YOU TELL)

also toaka's voice is so soft, so smooth, so gentle, so emotional... it's so KIRI!!! this is his singing voice, i rest my case.

andd..... with that being said, i conclude my lengthy and long-winded essay about why すずめ is kiri's character song and why you desperately need to listen to this lovely lovely masterpiece (that has been looping in my playlist for the past month)!! also watch the movie, すずめの戸締り (or just "suzume", i think), cuz it looks really promising!

that is all, have a kiri picture from the wiki (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)

ok byebyee

[12u3ie]

Y’all are sleeping on BeetleJhost.

Joe Hills + Beetlejuice = BeetleJhost! It takes the Joe-iest parts of the Hills and makes them evil and weirder!

You need an evil alter-ego for Joe? Boom! You need more lore for Joe? Boom! You need an enemy that the Hermits don’t know how to fight? Boom!

Also, especially if you go down the evil/Hels counterpart path, it gives you a chance to explore Joe in more depth too! His motivations, his fears, his character as a whole! Joe is typically only portrayed in fics as the wise, cryptic guy who doesn’t do much else other than recite poetry. Which is fine, don’t get me wrong, but it’s not quite... Joe. If you don’t know quite how to write Joe/only write him in the way I just described, using BeetleJhost might be a good way to figure it out. 

This probably doesn’t make much sense and isn’t quite the point I want to get across, but just... BeetleJhost!

[saynotoshityouhate]

For Science - Ch. 3

Read Chapter 1 here. Read Chapter 2 here.

Summary: You return to Bruce’s after your dinner date, and you still have an appetite. 

Word Count: 1099

Tags/Warnings: size kink, thigh riding, hand job (male receiving)

A/N: There are not enough images of Professor Hulk and it makes me sad. Give this big green softy his own film, please? 

Bruce pulled into the driveway of a small bungalow just outside of your small college town. Although it was dark, you could see a well manicured lawn decorated with delicate flowers in two beds on either side of a wrap around porch. Bruce had taken up gardening as a way to calm himself over the last year. He found it relaxing to (literally) ground himself in the work of growing beautiful things. 

The passenger door opened and you were greeted by a large green hand. You smiled at the kind gesture, using his hand to lift yourself out of the car. You weren’t used to this high of a heel, having been home in your PJs for over a year - and you were navigating the world like a newborn giraffe. 

Banner walked you up to the front door where you saw a specially made porch swing and more flower boxes. Walking inside, you saw the coziest home you’ve ever seen. Deep couches with plush cushions and soft blankets, candles and incense on every table, and walls adorned in photographs of Bruce and his Avenger colleagues on their many travels across the universe. You knew he had left that part of his life behind, but it was clear that those people held a very special place in his big heart. “Welcome to my home!” Banner chuckled, obviously a little nervous and unsure how to proceed. “Can I get you something to drink? Take a seat! Are you still hungry? I can get…” you interrupted his rambling thoughts. “Banner! I’m great. I’d love a drink. Whatever you’re having.” You plopped down onto one of the couches, kicking off your heels and pulling your feet beneath you. You felt at home. 

Bruce returned from the kitchen with two glasses of red wine. He handed one to you before sitting down in a chair across the living room from you. You looked at him through knitted eyebrows. You had an entire couch next to you, and he chose to sit so far away. Taking a sip of your wine for courage, you stood up from the couch and padded over to Banner and hopping up onto his lap. “Oh - hi there.” Bruce was surprised by the move, hoping you couldn’t feel his cock twitch as you wiggled around to make yourself comfortable. You had always felt self conscious about your body, never really feeling comfortable about your size and shape. It took a man like Bruce to make you feel small - not that one way was better over the other - but taking up space was never something the world encouraged you to do. 

You looked up at Bruce, one hand holding your wine and the other tracing lazy patterns on his chest. Bruce held you in place softly, his palm splayed across your lower back and waist. “You know, we really don’t have anything to be nervous about. We’ve pretty much done this before. Many times, actually.” You set your wine glass down before turning your body to face him, one leg straddled on either side of his muscular thigh. Your hands braced themselves on his chest as you rocked your hips forward, your buzzing clit rubbing itself against his quadriceps muscle perfectly. A soft sigh escaped your lips. “We should just, you know, go for it.” You rocked against his thigh again, looking up at Bruce for some sort of sign that you were on the same page. He didn’t know what to say, his jaw had dropped. Hearing that sigh escape your lips short circuited his brain. 

Banner nodded his head, leaning his face to yours, enveloping your lips into a passionate kiss. You moved your hips once more, hitting that spot exactly, causing a moan to escape from deep within you. Bruce was suddenly painfully hard. Feeling the disturbance beneath you, you moved to unbutton and unzip his pants. Reaching inside to free his aching cock, your eyes got wide. You looked up at him in shock. Banner, being a child at heart, chuckled. “Items may be larger than they appear on screen, Y/N.” Reaching in after you, he enveloped your hand into his and together you lifted his length out of his pants. Bruce’s one hand remained on your waist, while the other covered yours, unable to fully grasp itself around the width. He wasn’t kidding when he said he had to be creative with his partners. Traditional methods may end in severe injury, or worse. 

Banner took the hand fruitlessly grasping his cock and lifted it up to his lips, leaving wet, sloppy kisses along your palm. You resumed grinding your increasingly wet pussy against Bruce’s thigh, whimpering at the delicious sensation. Bruce placed your enveloped hand back on his now leaking member, moving you both in slow, steady strokes. Banner groaned, head lolling back, gripping your waist tighter as if to also hold himself together. Regaining his composure, he began moving your hands more swiftly, the mixture of saliva and pre-cum lubricating the movements. “Bruce…” you whispered, your stomach tightening and breathing becoming erratic. “Go ahead, little one. You can do it.” With that, your orgasm crashed over you, toes curling, free hand grasping at Banner’s shirt as your body collapsed into his chest. Your face nuzzled against his collarbone as you came down, your other hand now working with Bruce’s in overdrive. In your daze, you looked up at Bruce, his face contorted in concentration, the hue of his skin darkening as he got closer to his release. Watching his face intently, your arm moving outside of your control, he looked down at you. Seeing your frame tucked neatly inside his, your wide eyes staring up at him and your skin aglow...it was enough to push him over the edge. Banner growled, his grip around your waist and around his cock tightened as he came. Bruce leaned his head back against the chair and took a few deep breaths. 

“I think I ruined your pants.” You shifted your body to see the mess you had made. You gently massaged your other hand which was sore from the squeeze of Bruce’s much larger one. 

“...and I ruined your dress. I’m sorry - is your hand alright? Are you okay?” You hopped down from his lap. 

“Oh I’ll be fine, thank you. Which direction is the restroom?” Bruce pointed down the hall. 

You began to walk away when you stopped to lift your dress over your head. You dropped it on the floor, and turning back to look over your shoulder you asked “You coming, big boy?”

[bratkook]

rough hands. (m) jjk

pairing : tattooed!jungkook x tattooed!reader (slight fuckboy!jk)

word count : 12k, (i hate myself why cant i ever write anything shorter than 10k goodbye)

genre : (fr)enemies to lovers, smut, this is for @mygukandonly​ ty for the idea and for sharing my thirst for jungkook lmao also ps. if you read this/enjoy it pls reblog bc tumblrs tags are dead af tysm

warnings : overstimulation, dirty talk (its kinda sweet tho?), playful banter during sex, unprotected sex

summary : how is he meant to confess that he’d tear off his left arm for you if you asked when he can see the way you look at him in disgust when his nervous rambling leads to retelling the raunchy stories of girl’s past

The muffled sound of your roommate and his best friend laughing in the kitchen can be heard through your bedroom wall, a smile spreading across your face when you hear Hoseok’s telltale joyous laugh, no doubt in the middle of telling a story. 

You rake your fingers through your hair once more, fluffing it up and stepping back from the mirror to give yourself a once over, your hands tugging down on the tight dress you had on. The black shiny latex hugging your curves in all the right spots and you smirk as excitement fills you when you think of the dumb shit you and your best friend Rina were going to get into tonight.

In the kitchen Hoseok pours another shot for himself and Jungkook, the two of them energized at going out tonight as well, the video game demo they had been working on at work had gotten approved, being given the green light to move further into it so they would be celebrating tonight. The rest of his friends were set to arrive at your shared apartment for some pregame drinks before they left to their designated bar of choice.

“Y/N! Take a shot.” Hoseok shouts out when you step out of the hallway, his head peeking out by the breakfast bar to see you. He’s wearing a simple white tshirt, his colorful tattooed arms on full display as he holds out a shot glass for you to take. As you step closer to grasp it Jungkook’s eyes bulge out at what you’re wearing, he chooses to throw back his shot, letting the burn of tequila take his mind off how hot you looked. Jungkook has had it bad for you for so long, you and Jungkook have ran in the same circle since high school, not exactly friends but there was always a mutual friend linking you two together.

Jeon Jungkook has always been shameless, even at the young age of 16, when his hair was all bangs and the only thing on his mind was bands, shows, and girls. His debauchery only worsened in college when his muscles bulked up and he started experimenting with tattoos, there is nothing horny college girls love more than a man with long black hair and inked sleeves so of course he embraced it. 

The social circle you two shared slowly dwindled away after the first year of college as people dropped out, moved out of state or started a career while you finished your schooling. Because of that, you hadn’t really seen or heard much about Jungkook during your last year of college, not sure if he ever finished, dropped out or took a year off. It wasn’t until fate had you responding to a room mate needed ad that lead you to Jung Hoseok and in turn leading you right back to Jeon Jungkook, full circle.

And in that reunion it was made clear that he had stayed exactly the same, the same 16 year old mentality trapped inside a bulked out tattooed man, his new found goal being getting under your skin because he loved seeing you upset.

Your eyes meet Jungkook’s as you grab the shot glass, standing right beside Hoseok as he pours himself yet another shot. He just smirks at you, noticing your added height with the platform shoes you have on, “If you wear those shoes you can get on all the rides at Disney.”

He hides his smile behind the glass, seeing you roll your eyes as you throw back the shot, glaring at him once you swallow it, “Oh shut up, I’m normal sized, it’s not my fault you’re a fucking Titan.”

Hoseok laughs loudly at your comeback, his shoulders nudging Jungkook and seeing him fighting back a smile at your reaction, “Touché.”

The contents of the tequila bottle start to dry out so Hoseok pushes it away, opting for grabbing a cup to start making drinks to pace himself until his friends show up. You have the beginnings of a buzz warming you up, sliding out your phone to see that Rina texted you to come over, wanting to pregame as well before you went out together.

As you start texting her back your ears tune in to the story Jungkook had decided to start telling, reminiscing on the last time they had all gone out to that dive bar. His hands are animated as he tells Hoseok about the drunk girl he had his eyes on, the both of them ending up in the gross bathroom while she gave him a sloppy blowjob, stopping halfway through to puke all over the floor and how it had absolutely wounded his ego. Him and Hoseok are bent over in hysterics as you lock your phone and roll your eyes, like clockwork Jungkook had to start talking about his sexual escapades, “And that’s my cue to fuck off.”

You shove your phone into your tiny side bag as you start to walk away and Jungkook presses his lips together as he realizes once again he said something he shouldn’t have. Hoseok turns to look at you, “You sure you don’t wanna come out with us? It’ll be more fun than that fetish club you’re into.”

You laugh at him, acting as if he didn’t frequent that club as well, “Is Iseul joining you?”

He frowns at the mention of his girlfriend, getting a little sad that she would in fact not be joining him, “No, she’s got an early shift tomorrow so she cant.”

“Sorry but if she’s not there I’m not interested.” You tease with a shrug, throwing your arm up in a wave before leaving your apartment, the door slamming behind you.

Jungkook instantly sulks once you’re gone, mentally slapping himself for always managing to say stupid shit around you. He couldn’t help himself, the small crush he had spawned in high school when you were still the timid girl that wore band tees two sizes too big, and now that you had matured into this, all leather and stockings and tattoos that rivaled his, that crush had bloomed and with it came plenty of wet dreams and fantasies. 

He knew he stuck his foot in his mouth every time you two ended up in the same vicinity but his usual confident and cocky self became a nervous fucking wreck around you. His brain chose to either rile you up with mean jokes or let his mouth run on autopilot. Unfortunately the only two topics programmed in consisted of shit regarding his job as an audio engineer for video games or his raunchy one night stands. More often than not it was the latter, talking about vulgar things made you walk away, if he talked about technical shit that you didn’t know about, it left room for questions from you and more of a chance for him to embarrass himself.

He uncaps the tequila bottle again and tips it back, taking a swig from the bottle and accepting that he’d have to live with annoying you from afar.

Its not until you come home that night, absolutely hammered, while hes there that he gets the first glimpse that maybe his dreams aren’t so far fetched. He’s stood in the doorway between the kitchen and living room, the buzz of the night having left him a while ago, a bowl of cheerios in his hand that he’s currently shoveling into his mouth when you stumble in, tripping over the doors threshold as you giggle and attempt to shut it quietly as to not wake up Hoseok.

Jungkook smirks with a mouthful of cereal as you press your forehead against the door and double over in hushed laughter, no doubt remembering something stupid that happened earlier. “You okay?” He finally speaks up, scaring you, you whip around in shock and slam your back against the door, a small whimper of pain leaving you as you slide down until your butt meets the floor.

“Oh shit.” He sets his bowl down and goes over to make sure you’re okay, your body is slumped on the floor with your legs sprawled out and he forces himself to just stare at your face, a small frown on it now that you realize how drunk you are. But thanks to that, the usual dont touch me attitude you normally have is missing, letting Jungkook scoop you up by the arms. He swallows as his fingers go down to tug the hem of your dress since it had rode up from you sliding down, his fingers lingering slightly on your thigh.

Your head lolls over now that he’s holding you up and away from the wall, a small smile on your face as you stare at him, your finger coming up to gently prod at the bar he has in the center of his lip, seeing them curl up as well because fuck are you drunk.

Your eyes are having trouble focusing on him with the dim light and the two shots you took just as you left the bar finally settling into your system but you make him out just fine, the weird orange glow coming from the kitchen illuminating him enough for you to see him. “You’re really cute in this lighting.” You slur out.

Jungkook just blushes, not knowing how to respond to you because you complimenting him was not the norm. When your brain decides that your head is far too heavy to hold up it drops back, showing him the expanse of your neck and the beautiful peony you have at the side of it, just under your ear, leading up to the spot where your neck meets your collarbone and Jungkook can’t stop himself from thinking of sucking hickeys into the skin there, the purple splotches coloring the blackwork tattoo.

“Wow, you’re sloshed.” He hauls you up, the muscles on his body clearly not being for show as he carries you to your room. He flicks the light on and gently places you on your mattress, hearing you groan in protest but otherwise not moving. His hands start to unbuckle the straps to your shoes, cute leopard print platform heels with the words doll face adorning the toe strap and it was very much you.

They land on your hardwood floor with a loud thud but you don’t register it, your eyes staying shut as you shove your face into your sheets. He opts for leaving you in your dress, shoes were fine but clothing was uncharted territory so he just unfolds the fluffy throw blanket at the edge of your bed and drapes it over you. His hands turn you over until you’re on your side, a stack of pillows at your back so he knows you won’t run the risk of choking on your puke if the situation arises. When he knows you’re no longer at risk of dying he starts to get up, your hands coming to grasp his and it startles him to see your drunk eyes blinking at him softly.

Your lips are moving but he can’t make out what you’re saying so he inches closer, “Huh?”

When hes about a foot away your hands cup his cheeks and bring him in for a quick kiss, the scent of vodka filling his nose as he feels the softness of your lips, “Thank you Jungkookie.” The phrase slurs together in an almost incomprehensible sentence but he hears it as he pulls back, your eyes shutting and your hands dropping and laying limp beside you as you knock out.

Jungkook just stands at the edge of your bed, watching you sleep for a moment before he scurries out to the living room, forgetting about his cereal and collapsing onto the couch to crash, his hands rubbing his eyes almost as if he’s trying to wake himself up from the dream he swears hes in.

His night had been restless, he couldn’t even blame it on sleeping on a couch, he usually did that when he and Hoseok went out and he had to carry his best friend home. No his dreams had consisted of you and that damned latex dress, the small innocent kiss you gave him spurring him on, so he was thankful when he woke up and no longer had to be scared of you walking in on him saying some shit in his sleep.

Hes currently sprawled out on the couch, shirtless with his grey sweats on, one hand tucked behind his head as the other fiddled with his phone, scrolling through instagram and shamelessly rewatching your story for the millionth time. He just couldn’t stop replaying a video of you speaking into the camera, very drunk with a massive smile as you tried to get your friend who was in the background to face the camera, erupting into a laugh that made him smile along.

His finger presses down on his screen, pausing the video as his ears pick up the sound of a bedroom door opening, either Hoseok was up or you were. He wasn’t sure who he was hoping for but when he sees his friend walk out of his room with bedhead he wishes it was you.

Hoseok smacks his lips together a few times, his squinty eyes looking at Jungkook as he smiles, “How’d those jäger shots treat you?”

Jungkook laughs as he recalls Hoseok egging everyone on to take more of them, sitting up and ruffling his wavy hair, “I can still bounce back as quick as I did when I was 16.”

Hoseok just groans, his palm rubbing his forehead, “Wait until you hit 26.” He waddled into the kitchen and begins rummaging around, the sound of pills shaking in a container being a telltale sign that Hoseok desperately needed advil.

“Hungry?” He calls out and Jungkook hums in response, he was very hungry, he hadn’t wanted to get up and make himself food since last time he did he had mistakenly used up the last of your oat milk and you had been furious, tossing the empty carton at his head when you had tried to make yourself a bowl of cereal. “You cool with pancakes?”

“Dude you could give me a still frozen eggo waffle and I’d be grateful.”

Hoseok laughs loudly at his statement, pots and pans clanking together as he sets up and Jungkook winces, your bedroom shared a wall with the kitchen so it was only a matter of time until the noise woke you up.

It takes roughly 15 minutes of Hoseok chatting and the noise of the mixer to stir you from your sleep. Your mouth is dry and your eyes are pulsing from your headache when you fully awake, pushing yourself up from your bed you’re confused as to how you even got into it. The black dress you wore dug into your skin, the straps leaving deep imprints in your shoulders from the way you slept.

“What the hell.” You moan out, rolling your neck and staring down at the mountain of pillows that were laid out in a specific shape. Had Hoseok hauled your ass to bed last night?

The muffled sounds of chatter start back up, the smell of pancakes slipping under the crack in your door and you grin, hoping Hoseok had added chocolate chips into the mix.

Pancakes were a necessity right now, your stomach felt hollow and from past experiences if you waited too long to eat after drinking all night your hangover would last way longer, so you stand up, your sore feet aching as you shuffle to your drawers and pull out comfortable clothes.

When your door creaks open Jungkook stops talking, his fork staying impaled in the pancakes as the sound of your feet padding on the hardwood floor gets closer. Hes sat on the tall barstool facing the breakfast bar, Hoseok stood on the other side of it, both of them in the middle of eating when you finally show yourself.

Your eyes zero in on Jungkook and you frown, hes sitting shirtless, half of his back and side facing you, letting you see the swirls of black ink that cover the majority of his body. Your eyes follow the dragon that starts on his shoulder, tracing the head all the way down as its body curves and twists until the tail peaks away under the hem of his sweats, but you can’t drool over him, no matter how delicious he looked so you opt for being a brat.

“Don’t you have a home?”

Hoseok chokes on his laughter, seeing Jungkooks cheeks redden as he stares back at his plate. Did you not remember planting one on him last night? You were very drunk but c’mon, could the universe throw him a bone for once.

“Here, your stacks are over there, chocolate chips and all.” Hoseok flicks behind him, your gaze following and seeing the plate of pancakes with your name written all over it. The smile you have contrasts deeply with the look you had just given Jungkook, you were a sucker for chocolate chip pancakes.

You walk into the kitchen space and fix yourself up a plate, scooping out some of the leftover eggs in the pan and choosing to stand next to Hobi instead of sitting beside Jungkook. You’re both crammed on the small counter space beside the sink, the two of you had never gotten around to buying a dining table and always suffered the consequences so you always managed. 

You lift up the plate to your nose and inhale, sighing in appreciation, “Hoseok, Iseul is one lucky lady. Why hasn’t she put a ring on it yet?” You tease, setting the plate down and grabbing the syrup bottle to drown your pancakes in the sticky goodness.

Jungkook is blatantly staring at your plate in disgust, his eyes looking between his plate and your own, your pancakes covered in the thick syrup, the excess dripping off and pooling into your eggs.

“Jesus what.” You snap, setting the bottle down rather aggressively, sending him daggers as his face scrunches up at your food.

“Thats fucking disgusting.”

“You like your pancakes bone dry, I don’t fucking judge you so don’t judge me. We’ll see who’s laughing when you’re choking on your dry ass food.”

Hoseok just stands there as he eats his eggs, a stupid smirk on his face as you banter like children. It’s always entertaining for him, he wishes he could record every interaction because you and Jungkook were the same person, the same sick sense of humor and quick drags made for some interesting comebacks.

He can see Jungkook getting increasingly flustered as you both continue shooting insults at each other about breakfast food, the dreaded oat milk fiasco being brought up and when you point your fork at Jungkook threateningly thats when Hoseok steps in as referee. “Alright, alright children enough!”

He raises his arms up, silencing you both and forcing you to drop your makeshift weapon, “Jungkook, you know the oat milk scandal is a sensitive subject so minus 10 points for bringing it up.” Jungkook glares when you poke your tongue out at him, “And Y/N, Jungkooks right, you drowning your shit in syrup is disgusting so minus 15 points for that.” And now Jungkook is grinning at you mockingly, enjoying the shock on your face as you look at Hoseok, calling him a traitor and picking up your plate to go eat in your room since no one fucking appreciates me in this stupid house!

When your door slams shut Jungkook chuckles, his tongue prodding at his cheek as he shakes his head and resumes eating his breakfast. Hoseok holds his coffee cup next to his lip as he stares at his friend, “You two fight like a married couple.”

Jungkook’s reaction is immediate, scoffing and rolling his eyes, “She’s just annoying.”

Hoseok hums, nodding along like he believes Jungkook, “Ah, so are we both still pretending you don’t have it bad for her?”

That gets a real reaction from the younger boy, his eyes darting to the wall that you share with the kitchen before glaring back at his friend, “Dude!” He whines, his shoulders sagging, “Do you want her to hear you?” Hoseok just cackles, grabbing his dishes and placing them in the sink to start washing them. Jungkook just continues grumbling to himself, his fork clanking against the plate as he stabs his pancakes aggressively.

“Give yourself some credit Kook, she doesn’t hate you like you think she does.” Jungkook found that hard to believe, your morning greeting of accusing him of being homeless due to him always being at your place showed him how you really felt, but last night was the first time he had felt like maybe deep down you thought he was cute enough to kiss.

“Last night,” he starts off, setting his fork down, “she came home at like 4am totally wasted, I don’t even know how she managed to climb the stairs up to the front door. I carried her to bed and she uh, she kissed me.” He whispers the last part, his eyes glancing at the shared wall again, praying you were listening to music and not hearing this conversation.

Hoseok shuts off the faucet, whipping around with wide eyes, “Huh? Like coherently kissed you with tongue down your throat or like drunk peck kissed you?”

“The second one.”

The expression on Hoseoks face doesn’t comfort Jungkook, he’s pouting in sympathy, “I mean, she kisses Iseul with tongue and everything-”

“Okay but-wait what?” Jungkook stops himself from interrupting further, his interested piqued in hearing about you and Hoseok’s girlfriend making out. It was a regular occurrence, if you both got drunk enough the compliments began and before Hoseok knew it you and his girlfriend were swapping spit and then acting like nothing happened as you entered the dance floor.

His friend rolls his eyes at the look Jungkook throws at him, “Yeah, I think Iseul loves her more than me.”

“Okay well tell her to get in fucking line.” Jungkook jokes, “But no, she kissed me last night and considering she doesn’t like me within her bubble it has to mean something right?”

Hoseok pats his hands dry as he approaches the breakfast bar again, Jungkook looks unsure, his teeth nibbling on his lip piercing as he stares at him. The conversation had switched over drastically from Jungkook pretending he wouldn’t lay his body across a puddle of water for you to cross, now he looked like a nervous teenager that didn’t want to get rejected by his crush.

“I don’t know dude, you’re gonna have to say something to find out.”

Hoseok knew more than he would ever tell Jungkook, you had openly confessed to wanting to climb him like a tree only if he wore a muzzle a few months back so Hoseok knew Jungkook had a chance at least. The only issue was he wasn’t sure just sleeping with you would be enough for his friend, the crush he had been harboring was too strong for a one night stand and he wasn’t convinced you’d want the same so Hoseok kept his mouth shut, letting you two figure it out.

He tried his best to make it so you two would be around each other, always inviting Jungkook over or inviting you out with them but Jungkook never did himself any favors, he needed you guys to hang out in a different environment that didn’t require loud music and other girls so when his girlfriend suggests taking a weekend trip to her family’s lake cabin he doesn’t think twice before inviting you to join.

The weather lately had been miserable, the highs skyrocketing into the 100s so you didn’t hesitate to say yes, on the condition that you could bring your best friend with you just in case the rest of Hoseoks friends were just as immature as Jungkook was.

When the day comes you and your friend have to leave a few hours after the rest of the group does, having to wait for Rina to get off her short morning shift before you embark on the 2 hour drive. So walking into the cabin you’re met with some unfamiliar faces staring back at you from their place on the couch. You give a wave, spotting Iseul on a lounger, she smiles widely and hops up, bounding over to you and wrapping you in a hug.

“Yay, you made it!” She pulls back and greets Rina, standing beside you both and gesturing to the full room. “Guys this is Y/N and Rina.” They all wave back as she starts to introduce them in order, Jimin had red hair and a nose ring, Yoongi had grey hair and a rose tattoo on his hand, The last one to be introduced is Taehyung, brown hair and a wide smile, giving you and your friend a wave. Jungkook and Hoseok give you a wave as well, no introductions needed for them.

Due to your late arrival all the rooms have already been decided on, Jimin and Yoongi lucking out with securing the master suite but you and Rina had no complaints, grateful to have even been invited.

Now that introductions were out of the way and everyone was here Hoseok announces that hes gonna start up the grill outside to make some food. Everyone gets up to start assisting but you and Rina head back out to haul your bags in along with the alcohol and groceries you bought.

The weather is humid and gross, your skin tacky with sweat so you’re wearing the least amount of clothing you can. Already in a stringy gray bikini, a loose cut up tank top and the shortest shorts Jungkook has ever seen on you. Your tattoos on full display, the florals that cover your entire left arm, reaching your shoulder, he follows them up and over his eyes glued to the bold lines on your back that peek out when your shirt moves.

When you bend over to set down the box of drinks he stares at your ass, trailing down the soft skin of your thighs that were bare compared to the rest of your body. Tae elbows him harshly, “So thats Y/N I’m assuming?”

Jungkook grunts in response, swallowing when he sees you pull your hair up, exposing your neck and that tattoo he desperately wants to mark up, “You ever gonna make a move?”

“I don’t have the balls.”

Tae hums, “Great, well I do so see ya.” He slaps his arm and Jungkook thinks hes joking until Taehyung actually makes his way over to you, offering to help carry your bag to your room upstairs. The grateful smile you give him makes Jungkooks face twitch, you only ever smiled at him like that when you were wasted

Taehyung wasn’t actually going to hit on you, he wasn’t a cruel friend. He was just going to flirt harmlessly, give Jungkook a reason to fucking make a move. Rina is all giggles as she watches you follow Tae up the stairs, pointing towards the room you had been assigned.

As he walks in front of you, making friendly conversation you take the time to stare at him. It seems all of Jung Hoseoks friends were fucking god sent, Tae’s fluffy brown hair and kind eyes were easy to warm up to, his style more toned down than Jungkooks, only a few minimal tattoos scattered on his arms.

He sets your bag down on the bed and turns to you with his hands on his hips, “Thank you.” You mutter out, walking over to the window and shutting the blinds slightly to stop the sun from beating into the room and warming it up further.

“Yeah no problem, have you ever been here before?” He asks, making himself comfy on your bed.

“No, never. Super glad to finally have a friend who can say they have a lake house though.”

He agrees whole heartedly, the both of you making your way back out of the room and into the dining room to try to see what you could help out with.

It only takes less than a hour for everyone to gather around the table, munching on their hamburgers and hotdogs as you listen to Hoseok, Yoongi and Iseul talking about the summers they used to spend here during high school, all of them having grown up together.

“You two went to high school together also right?” Iseul speaks up when the laughter dies down, her fingers pointing between you and Jungkook. She smirks to herself when she sees the look on Jungkook’s face, swatting Hoseoks hand away from her side as he tries to pinch her for putting the two of you on the spot, he knows what shes up to.

“Oh, yeah we did.” You sigh, shaking your head as you think back to high school and all the cringeworthy things that happened. “Had a lot of mutual friends but uh, we didn’t have lake house summer hangouts like you guys did. The closest we got was backyard house shows during the summer that reeked of B.O.”

Jungkook lets out a laugh, nodding along as he remembers the shows your group would end up at. The group you had was a pretty huge on, all of the kids in your grade that liked the same music tended to bunch together and do things as a herd so even though you technically went to shows together it wasn’t one on one.

“Wait, do you remember that show the summer after high school where I dove off the stage–“

“Your dumbass always did that.”

He waves you off, determined to tell the story he sort of remembered, “I know, but this time all I remember was jumping off and then waking up with everyone huddled around me trying to call an ambulance.”

Your eyes widen as you recall the exact day he was talking about, it was a typical backyard show with too many underaged kids getting drunk off beer. Everything was set up like it normally was, a makeshift stage and amps against the brick wall with a small crowd huddled around it. The only difference was this house had a pool, an empty one, and although everyone had been cautioned to stay away, once people got hammered nothing mattered.

The crowd surrounding the stage was teetering close to the edge of the pool so you and your friend at the time chose to watch from the sidelines, and thats when a very drunk 17 year old Jungkook hopped onto the stage, wobbling onto the top of the drum kit and catapulting himself into the crowd. They had managed to catch him and started crowd surfing him back, right into the empty pool. Jungkook had been tossed into the deep end, head first and you had seen it all happen.

“There was so much fucking blood.” You shiver as you recall the group of you running into the pool to make sure he was alive. He had managed to bust his head open and as you saw him with blood dripping down his head you realized then that you really didn’t dislike him as much as you claimed you did because you really didn’t want him to die.

Jungkook throws his head back and laughs loudly, morbidly recalling how his friends had told him to go to the hospital in fear that he had a concussion or needed stitches and even though he said he was fine he was lowkey scared to sleep that night and not wake up the morning after.

Everyone laughs along, enjoying the way Jungkook turns a traumatic story into casual conversation. When Jimin asks what he did after he gained consciousness Jungkook just smirks as he drinks the last of his beer before shrugging, “I drank some more and got back into the crowd.”

You just cover your face in second hand embarrassment at the memory, a few laughs slipping out because yeah it had been slightly traumatic but also kinda funny.

“Have you changed much since high school?” You lift your head and see Taehyung had addressed his question to you and Jungkook chuckles under his breath, remembering your quiet demeanor.

It wasn’t until college that you came out of your shell, gaining confidence and experimenting with your fashion and hair colors, the tattoos covering your body increasing quickly. But Jungkook could say your personality has stayed the same, sure you were no longer timid, quick to bite back now but the personality he had found himself latching onto had stayed the same. Even when you two distanced yourselves he always thought of you, he liked to think it was fate that had you and him both knowing Hoseok.

“Definitely, for the better though.” Jungkook eyes his friend like a hawk, the small smirk on his face as he stares at you from across the table, making eye contact for a second before looking back at you. Jungkook sees the way you lean on the table, your cheeks tinting when you see the way he stares at you.

“I’d love to see photos, ya know, to compare.” The laugh you let out has Jungkook sulking. Taehyung was charming, all the girls flocking to him and usually Jungkook was the same but he turned into a jackass around you.

Hoseok sees his sulking friend and claps his hands to get everyones attention, “Alright I’m sure we’re all still sober enough to not fucking drown, lets go swim. I’m melting.”

Rina heads to the room to change since she was still in her work uniform so you wait for her on the back deck, resting on the porch rail and watching as they haul over fold out chairs and floaties to the water.

If you thought Hoseoks friends were hot fully clothed seeing them all taking their shirts off left you speechless, you stand with a wine cooler in your hand as one by one they start undressing. The only ones missing were Tae and Jungkook, both of them having been put on clean up duty.

“I wish this was a brazzers video and I was getting railed by all of them.” Your friend sighs as she pops up beside you and you just nod along, the two of you wiggling your eyebrows at each other.

“You coming?” Taehyung speaks up behind you, smiling to himself from having heard your friends statement and you two jump, your friend scattering away and saving herself from further embarrassment, she had her eyes set on Yoongi so thats who she was currently warming up to.

“Yeah,” you breathe out, taking in his shirtless body, his toned chest out in the sun like the golden god he was and then out comes Jungkook, his long black hair pushed off his face, fully shirtless in black swim trunks. As he stands next to Taehyung your mouth waters at the sight of both of them, Taehyung’s shoulders were wider than Jungkooks but the black and grey art work spanned across both of his arms and chest, leading to his back is definitely your type.

He catches you staring and smiles to himself, making a show of stretching his arm out to wrap around Taehyungs shoulders, shaking up his body, “Race you in?”

When he looks at you too you gulp down the last bit of your drink, setting down the bottle and slipping out of your clothes, not giving them a second glance as you scream out “Go!” and take off.

The dirt you run on slightly burns your feet and when you hear Jungkook and Taehyung catching up you scream, urging your legs to pick up the pace.

“Loser has to skinny dip!” Taehyung adds on to the rules, enjoying the annoyed look Jungkook sends his way, he knew what Taehyung was doing so he lurches forward until he’s right behind you.

You scream again when large tattooed arms wrap around you and haul you up and over their shoulder in a flash. You register that it’s Jungkook when you peak up and see Taehyung struggling to keep up, how Jungkook was able to carry you while also beating him had him baffled.

Jungkook would be damned if you had to strip in front of his friend so he feels no remorse, a smile stretching across his face when he hears you laughing, his hands are wrapped around your thighs just below your butt and he’s tempted to smack it but the cold water of the lake splashing onto his legs snaps him out of it.

“Fuck!” You screech as Jungkook enters the lake, the freezing water shocking you and he laughs again, sliding you off his shoulder to stand up on the lake bed.

“I didn’t expect it to be that cold.” He shivers next to you, dunking his head into the water before popping back up, his labret piercing glimmering in the sun.

Taehyung makes a show of splashing his way in, the water spraying everywhere and it has you shielding your face with a laugh, “Fucking cheater, is this your plan to see me naked Jungkookie?”

Jungkook smacks the water, the droplets spraying across Taehyungs face but he embraces it, laying back to float on the water with a smile, “No one said anything about getting naked until you spoke up, just say you wanna show off your monster cock and go.” He jokes, hearing Taehyung explode into laughter, choking slightly on the water as his head slips under from laughing.

You roll your eyes at the topic of dicks, “I don’t have a monster cock, unless you’re into that.” Taehyung teases you, trying to get further under Jungkook’s skin

“I could be.” You play along, it was now Jungkooks turn to roll his eyes, sinking further into the water until only his eyes were visible, could he drown himself here? He’s pretty sure you wouldn’t even notice if he didn’t come back up for air considering your eyes were glued to his friend. Jungkook was going to fucking strangle Hoseok for inviting him.

His eyes drift over to the right, seeing Hoseok, Iseul, Yoongi & Rina taking turns jumping off of it while Jimin floats on a flamingo floatie a few feet away. He starts to paddle his way over, not hearing any protest from you or his friend just reassures him that he made the right choice.

When Taehyung deems Jungkook is far enough he calls you closer, “Wanna know a secret?” That piques your interest, inching towards him with a curious face, “What if I told you I know someone who has a massive heart on for you.”

“Heart on?”

He laughs again, raking his hair off his face and nodding at you, “Yeah heart on, like a boner but for your heart.”

Note to self, yes all of Jung Hoseoks friends were just as immature as Jungkook was.

“I would tell you that I hope the person you say isn’t secretly married with kids.”

He floats onto his back again, his arms lazily paddling him to circle around you, “Oh no, our Jungkookie is definitely single.” He brings one hand up to cover his mouth, pretending to have slipped up.

“So what you’re saying is you don’t wanna fuck me?”

Your response is not one he expects but the way he bursts into laughter makes you smile, you had caught on to Taehyung’s antics, noting how he was friendly when you two were alone and only amped his flirting when Jungkook was present. You weren’t sure why he was using you to irritate Jungkook but if what he said was true it surprised you.

His loud laugh draws everyones attention and he rights himself up as to not choke on water again, “Like a brazzers video was it?” He teases, “He told me about your little smooch a few weeks ago.”

“Im sorry our little what?”

He wipes the water off his face, “Yeah, you came home drunk as fuck and he took you to bed and your predator ass planted one on him, with no consent. Shame on you.”

You splash water onto him, Jungkook sees it from his spot on the pier, a scowl on his face at seeing you acting playful with his friend, blissfully unaware that he was the topic of your discussion.

“Can you please grow a pair and tell her you love her.” Iseul moans out when she sees the look on the youngests face.

“Wait what?” Your friend asks and Jungkook turns around to give Iseul and Hoseok an exasperated look, “Seriously?”

Iseul just shrugs from her spot sat on the wood, not giving a damn about outing his crush in front of your friend and Hoseok just smiles, his foot planting on the center of Iseuls back and giving her a shove until she screams as she gets pushed into the water, beer bottle and all. He gives Jungkook a highfive until Iseul pops back up, her eyes full of rage as she holds up her ruined drink, “Jung Hoseok what the fuck!”

“Sorry babe, you kinda deserved it.”

Rina nudges Jungkook with her knee, her face making it very clear that Jungkook needs to fess up before she very loudly called you over. He sighs and hauls himself up until he’s standing and even though he’s towering over her Rinas face doesn’t soften, “Stop staring at me like that.” He grunts, “I just have a crush on her, its not like I confessed to something despicable.”

She crosses her hands over her chest as she stares at you and Taehyung still talking in the water and she can tell you’re not into him, you were both playful but she knew you very well, your flirting tactics not coming out to play with Taehyung but Jungkook doesn’t seem to notice this. She also knew that you’d secretly bend over for Jungkook if he ever asked but he didn’t have to know that right now, “Well you better say something cause it looks like your buddys making more progress in one day than you have the entire time you’ve known her.”

He groans in annoyance again, flicking water droplets at her face and deciding he was over this conversation, walking back to the cabin, not caring that he was dripping water everywhere.

You see him stalking away looking pissed off and Taehyung smirks, after coming to terms with the fact that you had in fact kissed Jeon Jungkook it only took a few more minutes of talking for you to also start confessing to not exactly being opposed to sleeping with him as well. Taehyung nudges your shoulder, “I swear to god if you don’t follow him I will be offended. No ones telling you to bang him, just talk because he swears you hate him.”

When you turn to glare at him he spits water at you until you’re relenting, “Fine, but if this is some sick prank I’ll shove my foot up your ass.”

“Ooh kinky.” He winks at you, laughing and beginning to paddle away when you turn and start wading out of the water. The sun beats on your back as you step out of the cold water, and you’re tempted to just go back and act like your conversation with Taehyung never happened but you’re curious now.

When you reach the back porch you hose yourself down, getting rid of any of the mud you trudged over before patting yourself dry with the towel you laid over the porch railing.

From the pier Iseul is pulling herself back up, announcing that she was about to go inside but Hoseok grabs her, all of them noticing you following Jungkook, “Fuck no, Y/N and Jungkook are the only ones in the house.”

She lets Hoseok keep his arms wrapped around her and smiles, crediting herself for being the one to push you two together and Hoseok groans, attempting to push her back into the water but she latches onto him, making them both tumble in with a splash.

You shut out their screams when you step into the house and close the sliding door, entering the kitchen and spotting Jungkook stood against the island, one of your wine coolers held against his lips. When he sees you staring at it he pulls it away quickly, “Shit, I’m sorry. I should’ve asked before grabbing one.” The last thing he needed was another oat milk fiasco.

You just shrug as you approach the island, resting your body against the granite across from him, “Nah, help yourself. Whats got your panties in a bunch?”

He sets the bottle down softly as he watches you, your hands clasped together, stretched out in front of you as you bent over the counter innocently. His teeth tug at the bar in the center of his lip, his inky strands covering his eyes but you can see his gaze peeking through, “Did I ever do anything to you for you to dislike me this much?”

You straighten up at his question, a frown tugging at your lips, you didn’t dislike him, you found him immature and he liked to push your buttons on purpose but you knew he was harmless. Obviously Jungkook didn’t know this considering Taehyung had just told you he thinks you hate him. “What, Jungkook I don’t dislike you?”

He scoffs, taking a swig of his drink with his brows raised, not believing you in the slightest, “Then why are you so mean to me when ever I’m around you.”

“Because you’re mean to me! You always say shit to get under my skin.”

Jungkook laughs at that, pushing his hair back and tossing the empty bottle into the paper bag set up on the counter, “Yeah because you’re easy to annoy.”

Your arms stretch out at his statement, “And so are you, you don’t see me moping like a baby. Besides I didn’t do anything to you out there so don’t try to pin your bad attitude on me today.”

He opens the fridge again, pulling out a water bottle instead before turning back around and staring at you, “Really, you didn’t do anything?”

You glare right back at him, walking around to meet him and snatch the water bottle out of his hands, call it even for him taking one of your wine coolers. “Please enlighten me on how I managed to ruin your day by not saying a word to you.”

Between you two running into the lake until he paddled away the only exchange you had was a curse word & Jungkook acknowledging the freezing water, where could you have possibly pissed him off.

He chooses on foregoing grabbing another water, his hands crossing over his chest, the muscles bulging out at the action but you force yourself to look away, “You objectifying my friend and talking about his monster cock isn’t you doing anything?”

You freeze from drinking the water, your cheeks ballooning out as you keep it in your mouth because what the fuck. Objectifying? You swallow the liquid, full on laughing now, theres no way he’s being serious. “You were the one that brought up his dick, are you dense?”

Okay, you had him there but he wasn’t going to admit defeat that easy, “Sure and you kept it going.”

You laugh louder at that, twisting the cap back onto the water bottle and tossing it at his chest lightly, smirking when you see him scramble to catch it, “The amount of times I’ve had to hear unwarranted stories about your dick in or around someone is fine but me joking with Taehyung is crossing a line?”

Jungkook presses his lips together, his mind repeating what everyone has been telling him all day. Tell her you jackass. “Yes because it fucking sucks hearing that shit from you.” He bites his tongue, stopping himself from blurting out the most important part, but his statement is enough to get you to believe what Taehyung had said earlier. Did Jungkook actually have a heart on for you?

“Why, are you jealous?”

“Yes.” He admits almost immediately, his response catching you both off guard, but the smirk on your face only gets bigger. Jungkook is wary of your reaction, not exactly fond of the way you look like you just caught your prey. When you reach out, your fingers gently touching his shoulders his wariness only deepens.

“Why would you be jealous about me wanting to fuck your friend?” Jungkook says nothing, your fingers continuing to trail up and down his shoulders softly and he likes the feeling of you touching him, wanting to lean into your touch but he’s not sure if you’re fucking with him or not. “Who knew all it would take was one kiss for Jeon Jungkook to get possessive.”

He blanches at your sentence, “Wait you remember?”

“Of course I do,” you lie, not wanting to tell him that Taehyung had been the one to remind you. You wanted to see how far you could push him until he admitted to something. The typical Jungkook you were used to was the one who went to bars and clubs and managed to score a handful of girls numbers before taking one home, the countless stories you’ve heard being proof of that. The Jungkook stood in front of you did not live up to the reputation you had seen.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I mean you were wasted so I just didn’t think you’d remember...” he trails off, unconsciously stepping back until hes pressed against the fridge.

“You wanna refresh my memory?” You’re half teasing him, half serious, enjoying seeing Jungkook looking like he’s about to explode.

He doesn’t get a chance to respond, the sound of the sliding door making you take a big step back before looking over. Jimin had his head peeking through the opening, a small grimace on his face as he realizes he interrupted something, “Sorry, we’re gonna go tubing if you guys wanna join.”

Jungkook hopes you say no because he can’t find the balls to speak up but you nod instead, turning to face Jungkook again, “Maybe later then.” Is all you say before turning around and following Jimin back out to the lake.

He watches you leave, bending over the island and groaning into the granite, where had that come from and why was he kinda into the way you spoke to him? Jungkook stands back up, taking a gulp of his water and following after you and Jimin.

Even when you’re all gathered on the boat, Rina being dragged in a giant circle tube beside Yoongi the both of them screaming, he can’t get your conversation out of him mind. His eyes focused in on seeing you laughing hysterically as you record your friend, a smile spreading across his face because your laugh is contagious.

When you hop onto the tube next, dragging Taehyung with you to further egg Jungkook on, Jimin slides over beside Jungkook and sighs, “Sorry about barging in earlier.” Jungkook just shakes his head, telling him not to worry about it, he didn’t mind it. Your words had spurred him on and all he wanted to do now was rip off that lifejacket you wore and take you in front of his friends but he knew no one would appreciate it.

Later in the night everyone gathers inside and does their own thing, a few people playing board games while you retreat into your room, feeling sluggish from the water and sun so you sleep through the dinner everyone eats.

When you finally emerge from the room, your hair damp from your shower you find the living room dimly lit and empty, the clock above the stove letting you know it was 9 at night. There was two plates left out on the counter, wrapped in foil and you knew it was meant for you. As you near it you see the scrap of paper next to it, Iseul’s handwriting standing out.

Left on a hike to go stargazing, text us when its clear to come back.

You frown at the message, what did she mean by that?

Regardless you peel back the foil and smile at the food she had left for you, popping it into the microwave and picking yourself up to hop onto the counter as you wait.

When you slip your phone out and start to scroll through your socials the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs scares you, your eyes flicking up and seeing Jungkook trudging down, a baggy crew neck on him and his face looking flushed from the sun hitting it.

“You didn’t go on the hike?” You ask as he approaches you slowly, his face looks sleepy and you can tell he also took a nap from the way his eyes blink at you lazily.

“Hike?” He rasps out, his hand ruffling up his already messy hair, a small frown on his face from the foggy feeling he still had from just waking up.

“Yeah,” you hum, pulling out your plate and starting to eat it on the counter, “they left on a hike or something. Theres a plate there if you haven’t already eaten.”

He looks at where you’re pointing and he smiles when he sees it, his eyes also spotting the note left and skimming it. His friends were such instigators.

He lingers behind you, torn between eating or doing something to you. You’re hunched over the counter, your legs rocking you against it as you happily much on some of the roasted potatoes. His eyes lingered on your legs, your skin still exposed in a loose pair of cotton shorts, a baggy tshirt hanging off your shoulder and letting him see the tattoo of a bee hovering over a sunflower.

You can feel him stood behind you and you freeze, looking over your shoulder at him with your brows raised, “Why are you standing like that?”

He shakes his head, relaxing the stiff way he stood and leaning against the counter instead, flicking his hair out of his face as you keep staring at him. “Just thinking about what you said earlier.”

You pop a piece of chicken in your mouth as you hum, “What did I say?” pretending to act confused, a smirk curling up on your lip when you see the deadpan look he give you as he pushes off the counter.

The nervous Jungkook from earlier is gone, the shock from you egging him on earlier had passed and it just solidified that he wanted to have you. “About me refreshing your memory of our little rendezvous.”

You laugh at his term, setting your fork down to fully turn to him, “Do you want me to kiss you again?”

He smirks at you, now standing a foot away from you, your back pressed against the counter as you craned your head up to stare at him, “Among other things.”

“Other things?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles, his hand reaching out to cup under your chin gently, “I’d like to bend you over this counter and fuck you until you’re crying. If you’re into that.” He smiles at the small gasp you let out, your eyes gleaming with desire at his words. You had thought you had the one up on him earlier but his change was a welcomed one, you wanted to experience the Jungkook you had heard about, rough and cocky.

You rest back onto your elbows as you stare at him, letting his thumb rub under your lip, “Oh really? Are you all talk?”

Jungkook scoffs, dropping his hands to cage you between him and the counter, his head dropping down a bit until your noses nudged together. “No, I always deliver.”

You don’t get a chance to respond, his head tilting slightly until your lips are together, the cold bar of his piercing pressing against you. Jungkook feels you relax into the kiss, glad that you weren’t pushing him away like he always swore you would. When he tests the water, gently licking his way into your mouth you groan, your hands coming up to clutch onto his sweater to tug him closer until his leg is between yours.

Kissing Jungkook felt natural, maybe it was the pent of sexual frustration you two had apparently had with one another but you just wanted to get to it. You drop one hand to trail down his thigh, palming his growing erection through his sweats.

He groans, pulling back from the kiss to rest his forehead against your, his soft breaths hitting your face as you continue to stroke him. “Feel that?” He hums softly, “Just wanna fuck you.”

You laugh gently, kissing his neck and feeling him roll his hips into your grasp, “How are you supposed to make me cry when you’re this needy?” Your teeth nip his skin, his hips stuttering when you do.

Jungkook just chuckles, the sound continuing when he trails his own hand down until hes dipping into waistband of your shorts, his fingers coming into contact with the wet spot on your underwear, “Keep it up.” He warns, “I’ll remember that in a bit.”

Your hands tighten their hold on him when he pushes your underwear aside to touch you directly, his fingers teasing your skin softly until he’s rolling your clit in a tantalizing manner. When you drop your head back and glare at him he just smiles, “Who’s needy now?”

“Still not crying.” You bite back.

Jungkook looks at you with his brows raised, new set determination on his face as he nods, stepping back from you and hooking his fingers into the waistband of your shorts and underwear, tugging them down your legs in a flash.

The cool air inside hits your wet folds and you gasp, kicking your discarded clothing aside on the floor and letting him drop to his knees in front of you. His long hair falls in front of his eyes, his hands grasping the top of your thighs to slide your legs apart with a grin.

He can see you wanting to speak up so he beats you to the punch, his nose nudging into your clit as he teasingly dips his tongue in between your folds to lick a broad stripe up. You let out a shuddered laugh, your hands reaching down to tangle in his head when he spreads you open with his fingers and starts to eat you out like a man starved.

Your eyes shut, your head falling back at a particular hard suck he gives your clit, his tongue going back to circle around your entrance to lap up your wetness. He groans at the taste of you, your hands tugging at his hair when he falls into a rhythm that has you quivering.

He slips two fingers into you, the feeling of your walls clamping down on him making him moan in anticipation of how you would feel around his cock.

Just like Jungkook is in every aspect of his life, he’s shameless in the way he pleasures you, the sounds of him slurping against you in combination with his fingers thrusting into you has you hurdling towards the edge faster than you’d like to admit.

You rest your weight on your elbow behind you, feeling your legs start to tremble and Jungkook notices, his arm wrapping around your thigh to help stabilize you. He can’t even get himself to gloat at having you fall apart this quickly, instead he enjoys you rolling your hips into his face, tugging his hair hard, your inner walls spasming as you reach your climax.

“Oh fuck.” You moan out, squeezing your eyes shut as your whole body is lit up, Jungkooks tongue continuing to flick your clit as you cum, his fingers slowing down slightly as you come down.

He can hear you breathing harshly, your fingers gently raking through his hair while he gives your pussy one last kiss before hes standing back up. His mouth and chin are covered in your arousal, his hand tugs up his shirt to wipe at his face, peeling it off his body and tossing it carelessly onto the floor.

“You’re not crying but its a start.” He mumbles out, his eyes trailing over your face as you stare at him fucked out. His talk was true, the small tidbits you’ve heard of him being able to make girls cum in record time hadn’t been a lie to boost his ego.

You look between you both, seeing his cock tenting in his sweats and you smile as you reach your hand into them, wrapping around his heavy length. He sees how your eyes widen at his size, you can tell he’s big and you haven’t even properly seen it yet.

When you tug them off you marvel at his size, big dicks would forever be your weakness and of course he’d have one. “I really wanna suck your dick,” you start, a small smile creeping up on your face as you give his cock a small pump, “but I’m not trying to barf my dinner up on the floor. Can’t have two girls puking over your dick in your lifetime right?” You knew his dick would make you choke and if you hadn’t just eaten you wouldn’t care, but barfing was definitely not a kink of yours.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, a laugh escaping his lips, “You’re the worst.” He shuts his eyes as you both start to chuckle. Jungkook doesn’t care, he was trying to make you cry, he didn’t need to have his dick sucked to do that.

“Its not just my height thats Titan size huh.” He jokes, laughing harder when you release his dick and groan, your faux annoyance being shown when you let him slide your shirt off of you, his hands coming up to cup your exposed breasts.

“No, I am not calling your dick Titan sized.”

“Oh no?” He asks, stepping closer until his length is pressed between your folds, a slow thrust starting that has you groaning, “This Titan dick can make you feel real good though.” He can barely utter out the sentence until he’s laughing again, burying his head into your neck at how stupid he sounded.

“You’re insufferable, I swear if you have an attack on titan fantasy I am walking away.” He lets out a playful whine, his mouth latching onto that tattoo he always wanted to kiss, his tongue softly licking at the skin as he sucks it, pulling back and humming when he sees the purple splotch in between the petals of the peony.

“I’m not that big of a weeb, can still make you feel good tho.” He mutters giving your lips another kiss, feeling you smile against him, your hands pushing him back by the chest.

You turn around, bending over the counter and shaking your hips slightly, “Show me.”

He bites his lip, his eyes staring at the slick coating your pussy, trailing down your thighs and he feels his dick twitch, not needing to be told twice. Jungkook presses his length against you, rutting between your folds, the both of you sighing as he coats his dick in your wetness.

“Remember, I wanna see you crying.” Is all he says before he’s pushing into you, the tip of him slipping in and he marvels at the way you spread around his girth as he thrusts further into you, a small moan leaving you when he bottoms out.

You wanna tell him that you won’t be crying tonight but the way he fills you up has you seeing stars, his dick nudging all the right spots inside of you so all you can do is tighten your walls around him and gasp for him to move.

Jungkook grasps your hips, his thumb tracing the outline of your back tattoo as he pulls back and starts a slow pace, determined to find the rhythm that has you falling apart.

When your hands grip the counter in front of you, helplessly trying to find purchase, your fingers knock into your dinner plate and swipe it into the sink beside you but you don’t register the noise and Jungkook grins when he hears the loud moan coming from you when he dick hits the back wall of your cervix.

You’re still sensitive from your last orgasm, so the feel of his thick cock stretching you open has you keening, your hips rutting back to meet his thrusts that have grown in speed, “Who’s needy now huh?” He grunts out, loving the sound of your skin slapping together, “Trying to fuck yourself on my cock, maybe you should do all the work then.”

When his hips still you whimper, twisting your head around to see him giving you an evil smirk, “Go on.” He urges, guiding your hips with his hands to get your started.

A heavy sigh fills the air as your hands press firmly onto the counter to ground yourself as you start to rock back onto him, a slow start until your need to cum again takes over and you speed up your movements.

“Good girl.” He praises, his hand reaching forward to push your hair over your shoulder, his hand trailing down your spine until it reaches your ass, his hand palming your flesh as he groans when he locks into the view of his dick, seeing the way you’re creaming on it.

The sweetest moans reach his ears, he can feel the way your velvety walls tighten around him further, “Fuck Jungkook.” You moan out, you can feel the sweat building up on your skin from exertion and he takes sympathy on you, knowing you want to cum again.

He leans over a presses a kiss against your shoulder before he takes over again, resuming the brutal pace he was pounding you with earlier and you sigh in relief, fully slumping forward and letting him have his way with you.

“You feel so good Jungkookie.” You breathe out and he smiles as he lets his hand slip around to your front, his fingers finding your clit again and the contact has you moaning again. His rough hands helping you reach your peek again, “Oh my god, don’t stop.”

He doesn’t plan on it, loving the way you’re clamping down on him and mumbling nonsense into the cool granite, “Don’t worry, I got you.”

With a few more thrusts you’re falling apart, pressing your forehead against the counter and moaning his name out louder than you thought was possible. Your friends made a good call vacating the house because there was no way you’d be able to keep quiet.

“Thats it.” He coos, pulling his hand away from your clit without slowing down his pace. Your legs felt like jello, glad you had a place to rest on while he continued to jackhammer into you. The first signs of overstimulation started to prick into you, small whines leaving your lips and Jungkook takes notice.

He pulls out of you slowly, his hands grasping your hips to turn you around. Your body is pliable in his hands, letting him move you and haul you up onto the counter, your feet dangling off the edge and a hazy smile on your face.

He presses another kiss against you, letting your tongues tangle together as he grabs your arms and wraps them around his neck, coming back down to hook under your thighs as he slides back into you.

The way you groan into his mouth makes his cock throb, your soaking entrance letting him glide right into you, “Hurts.” You whine out softly when he starts to thrust, not sure if you’d be able to handle another orgasm but Jungkook shushes you softly with another kiss.

“You can do one more for me right baby?” He asks, sucking on your lower lip as he rocks into you slowly. His eyes are half lidded and you can feel how hard he is in you, your body still trembling slightly from your last orgasm but you nod anyways, letting him kiss his way down your face until he reaches your neck again, soft praises leaving his lips.

Your fingers tangle into his hair again as you slump against him, letting him hold you up. You trail along his tattoos, tracing the giant death moth spanned across his collarbone, the tip of the wing reaching the bottom of his neck.

He’s grunting softly against you, getting lost in the feeling of you, the added touches and kisses you plant on his skin igniting the fire inside him. His arms scoop you closer, his hands spreading against your lower back as he speeds up his thrusts, your legs still wrapped around his arms.

The way his dick curves inside you has you moaning again, the pleasure creeping back up and your head falls back as you feel the pressure building again. You’re not sure you could handle coming again but Jungkook seems determined to get you there, rolling into you, the feeling of his pelvis rubbing your clit is too much. Your hands cling onto his back, your fingers digging into the flames and dragon that occupied the space.

“Fuck I can feel you squeezing me.” He gasps out, “You can cum again sweetheart its okay.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, hearing him grunting into your ear, his voice dropping into a gravel as he nears his edge as well. You’re clinging onto him for your life, gasping loudly when you reach your third orgasm of the night, the force of it making your mind go blank.

You don’t tune into to the small shriek of his name, the growl he lets out when you tighten around him tighter than before, his hips rearing into yours in a sloppier way until he’s cumming, hips surging forward to bury himself deeper into you as his cock twitches.

You come back when he moans your name out, the feeling of his cum filling you up making you mewl against him. He thrusts shallowly a few more times before pulling out with a sigh, letting your legs fall limp over the edge.

His cum drips out of you, slipping through your folds and down your ass until it pools onto the counter beneath you and he smirks, his eyes coming up to look at you and his expression gets bigger when he sees the tear streaks on your cheeks. His hand cups them, his thumb sliding across your face and wiping them with a laugh, “I told you I’d make you cry.”

You don’t have it in you to be the usual brat you are with him, not after cumming this hard three times in a row so you just pout at him and lean forward to kiss him again, this time being more gentle and slow paced than the last.

“How was that?” He mumbles against your lips, letting you pull him in to you, wrapping your arms around his tiny waist as you nuzzle into his chest.

Jungkook feels you laughing against his skin, “How was that?” You mock as you give him a squeeze, “Let’s just say I’ll cry over your Titan cock any day.”

The both of you burst into laughter, Jungkook pressing a kiss onto the top of your head as you two just stay there. Jungkook and you had officially crossed the line from being bratty friends to sleeping with each other. Neither of you knew what it meant but it seemed like a conversation for tomorrow morning, right now you were content with just holding him.

So when your phone vibrates beside you you’re reluctant to pull away, so Jungkook compromises by reaching it for you and handing it over.

You see its a message from Iseul and you unlock it, your face heating up as you groan and show the message to Jungkook, his face turning just as red as he sees what she sent.

Iseul 10:15pm : Thank you for the show, I hope you two realize we have security cameras in the kitchen and living room you horn dogs.

The two of you peek over at the corner of the room giving a wave and smiling shyly at the blinking security camera staring back at you. Maybe she could send you the footage for keepsake.

[dimensionr-177]

INTRO POST!!! ALSO REQUESTS ARE: OPEN

Hey! Im Oris, my main blog is @twinkiethievery and im a huge RnM fan! (And rampant self shipper. Ships myself with my own ocs loll)

PLEASE if u ever draw death crystal rick id love to see it!! Fanart makes me so giddy hehe :33

Tags:

OC: #death crystal rick

Me talking: #Oris Rambled

Writing: #Oris Writes

General art: #Orisarts

WHO WILL I WRITE FOR AND WHO WILL I DRAW?

Any canon or original characters set in the Rick and Morty universe!

WHAT WILL I WRITE

Pretty much anything! Crack, fluff, angst, you name it!

WHAT I WON’T WRITE

Proship content (please dni, or let me know if I accidentally interact, sorry! Personal preference)

Smut (idk how lol)

Thats about it lol welcome 2 my page and enjoy requesting!

[moonlit-han]

these scars for you ↠ han jisung

genre: boxer!jisung au, friends to lovers, college au, almost action? pairing: han jisung x femme reader word count: 5.2k fic warnings: description of fighting, blood, injuries, and mild concussion, suggestive, swearing, mention of assault (no description), alcohol consumption by characters of age, mild angst, oh and lots of pining and fluff request: yes a/n: well, here it is—the eagerly awaited han jisung boxer au. i hope the time jumps make sense—the whole piece goes roughly chronologically, if that’s any help. enjoy! a/n.2: found a couple typos and fixed them. sorry about that!

✧ masterlist & tag list info in bio ✧

some boxing terminology (thanks, wikipedia~)

- jab: a punch in which the boxer extends their arm straight out with their palm facing the ground - uppercut: a punch thrown from below with a little swing to it��best for hitting the chin/jaw from below - hook: a punch in which the boxer holds their arm in an L  or 90o angle and rotates their body so as to land the punch while their arm comes across their body - upper-hook: a cross between an uppercut and a hook - short straight-punch: a punch executed at short range, most easily with the fist coming from the waist - knockout: when a boxer touches the mat in the ring with any other part of the body besides the feet—the referee counts to ten to give time for the boxer to stand again. if the boxer is unable to do so before the referee reaches ten, the round is ended by knockout (KO) (even if the boxer isn’t unconscious) - technical knockout: the referee or other qualified personnel decides that the boxer is not fit to safely continue due to injuries or lack of defense. also, the “three-knockdown rule”—if a boxer is knocked down thrice in a round, that is counted as a technical knockout - round: a boxing match consists of up to 12 3-minute rounds. I’ve chosen varying numbers for the matches portrayed in this fic.

↠↞

Y/N and Jisung, Jisung and Y/N. That’s how it had always been and that’s how it would always be. Jisung was sure of that much.

You were a year older than Jisung, but that hadn’t stopped you from becoming friends within fifteen minutes of meeting each other. A mere six months later, you were so close that people often thought you were siblings. As the older one, you felt well within your rights to tease Jisung as much as you wanted. You’d called him a squirrel enough times that it became a nickname for him.

You were fiercely independent and threw yourself into potentially dangerous situations with no hesitation, which Jisung thought was totally badass. And yet, Jisung insisted, absolutely insisted, on defending your honor against the wiles of other boys and then other men, saying he’d fight them. You just pushed him, saying, “I don’t need protecting, especially from a stick like you!”

The first time Jisung watched you challenge someone to a fight was in second grade (you were in third) when the most pressing issue was whether or not peanut butter should be spread on the righthand piece of bread or the lefthand piece of bread in a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He’d managed to convince you that it wasn’t worth starting a fight over—“It was a duel, Jisung”—but that hadn’t stopped you from brashly challenging anyone with whom you had an issue for many years to come.

In 8th grade, you decided that you wanted to go explore a stretch of the forest behind Jisung’s grandparents’ house. For three weekends in a row, you’d shown up at his house with an overeager smile and an insatiable desire to discover whatever treasures laid in wait amongst the trees. Jisung had agreed to go with you, if only to watch your back. By now, he was used to being the sense of safety that you seemed to lack. When you’d lost your balance for a moment while crossing a stream on a fallen tree, Jisung had nearly had a heart attack. He hadn’t thought once about his own safety, just yours. Always yours.

High school was a trial for the two of you, since your parents decided to move and, consequently, you’d gone to a different school from the one Jisung would attend a year later. As he listened to you talk about how difficult the transition was and how much you missed him, Jisung soon learned that it wasn’t just physical pain he wanted to shield you from. In the middle of your senior year, your significant other had broken up with you, saying that it wouldn’t last when you both went to college. Jisung had held you as you cried, and it was then that he knew that he would do anything in his power to prevent you from crying that much ever again. 

That was also the first time he realized that he loved you.

↠↞

“Hey, Y/N!” someone called from behind you. 

You turned round just in time to register a volleyball sailing down through the air, coming straight for your head. The next thing you knew, you were laying on the ground with the wind knocked out of you and your head throbbing. Closing your eyes for a moment, you enjoyed the relief the darkness offered.

A hand shook your shoulder and you heard distantly, as if through water or layers and layers of wool, the sound of a voice calling your name. You knew that voice—it was . . . it was . . . 

You struggled to latch onto the sound and push through the darkness that threatened to pull you down.

“Y/N! Come on, wake up. Please,” the voice begged and you felt familiar arms wrap around you.

You slowly opened your eyes and looked up into the face of you knew better than your own. Jisung had a split lip and a black eye, with blood running down his chin. It looked like he was about to cry.

Jisung sighed and pulled you to his chest when he saw that you were, indeed, awake. You were a bit startled, but he held you so gently, cradling your tender head, that you didn’t mind. 

“Oh, thank god,” Jisung breathed. “You’re okay.”

You searched for words for a moment, then said groggily, “Coursemokay.” Despite what you wanted it to do, your head lolled backward—it was a bit disturbing to have your body slightly out of your control. Jisung immediately supported your head, shaking his own as if in disbelief. After a moment, he seemed to gather himself.

“Y/N, you idiot,” Jisung grumbled. “Why did you do that? You knew he’d come after you! Seriously, don’t scare me like that.” Jisung almost seemed to be begging.

“I had to—he was bothering Lily,” you managed to say, glad to be regaining the ability to speak. Had you been knocked out?

“But you didn’t have to go punch that fucker!”

“Yeah, but he stopped bothering Lily,” you said, clearly finding some comfort in the repetition of her name. You tried to sit up, but Jisung just held you partially reclined against his chest. “Is she still okay?”

“She’s fine, but you’re not.” Jisung raked a hand through his hair. “Fucking hell, Y/N, he intentionally knocked you out. The monitor’s furious—I wouldn’t be surprised if he gets expelled. It would serve him right, after what he tried to do,” he finished darkly.

You just stared up at Jisung for a long time, taking in the familiar lines of his face that were now more pronounced than when he was younger. It was as if the world had hardened him somehow, but it made him look sleek like marble instead of weathered.

“But how did you get a split lip?”

“Don’t worry about,” Jisung tried laughed, but it sounded forced to you.

“Jisung.”

“What else was I supposed to do?” he exclaimed and tears began to run down his face. “I have to protect you. You’re all I’ve got!”

You didn’t know what to say. It was as if time had stopped but you were still spinning through space, a comet destined for impact on a new planet of understanding. You felt wetness on your face and realized that Jisung’s tears were falling onto your cheeks, as if you were crying, too. 

You’re all I’ve got. What did he . . . 

Just then, the field monitor came over and all thoughts fled your mind. 

“What happened here?” he said sternly as he approached. “Why is L/N on the ground? Han, explain.”

Jisung gulped and then launched into a rambling explanation of the events that led to that moment. The monitor looked shocked when Jisung accused the boys’ volleyball team captain of attempted assault on a member of the girls’ volleyball team. Of course, Jisung was proud when you’d confronted the guy, threatening him with physical violence yourself and the prospect of exposure. Granted, Jisung had been worried when you told him that you’d punched someone nearly twice your size (but not too worried). The important thing was that you’d defended someone and saved them from harm.

When Jisung said that the captain had then thrown a ball directly at your head from close range, the monitor almost screeched.

“You’re telling me that another student deliberately sought and succeeded in harming Miss L/N?”

“Yeah, that’s exactly it. What’s so unclear about it?” Jisung was incredulous. You tried to move to lightly shove him, but your coordination was still suspect. Jisung smoothed your hair with shaking hands, and helped you sit up a bit.

After taking a deep breath, the monitor knelt. “You’re right, Han, there’s nothing unclear about this situation.”

The captain of the boys’ volleyball team was expelled shortly thereafter.

The very next week, at the young age of seventeen, Han Jisung decided to learn how to box so he could better protect you from anything that came your way.

↠↞

The roar of the crowd was like nothing else Jisung had ever experienced. People screamed encouragement, jeers, threats, and love confessions from the bleachers surrounding the boxing ring in which he and his opponent would soon face off. He’d known it would be loud, but not this loud. This was Jisung’s first official match outside of practice, and even though he knew he was more than prepared with Changbin as his teacher, Jisung still felt a little nervous. After all, he was only eighteen years old. 

“You’ve got this, Ji,” Changbin said, patting Jisung’s shoulder as they waited for the referee’s signal to mount the platform. “Just remember what we planned. You’re quick and smaller than him, which gives you something to work with. You can come in under his reach more easily. You’re gonna be fine, I promise.”

“Yeah, okay,” Jisung muttered, trying to tear his eyes away from the man who’d just walked over to the other side of the ring. His opponent had on the customary red shorts to mark him as a higher rank than Jisung, who wore blue. The guy had even dyed his hair red, as if to say that no one was better than him.

“Just breathe—it’s only going to be eight rounds,” Changbin continued. “You’ve gone fifteen with Dan and still won, so this guy’s nothing to worry about. Plus, you’ve got Felix as your second.”

He was about to respond, but the referee motioned to both boxers to enter the ring. Jisung made sure the straps on his gloves were secure, set his shoulders, and took a deep breath. And, he thought of you. After all, you were everything he was fighting for.

↠↞

Jisung collapsed back onto the couch in your apartment, absolutely exhausted. You were in the other room getting your books to study, and all Jisung wanted was to rest. It was a Thursday, after all, and he didn’t have classes on Fridays. His phone vibrated with a text.

bro: hey, great job at practice today! make sure to ice and let me know if you need anything before tomorrow’s match jisung: thanks. i’ll be fine changbin. gotta go—i’m at y/n’s rn bro: have fun 😉

Jisung ignored that last text, since Changbin knew full well that there could never be anything between him and you. Ever since you’d gone off to college, you’d made it clear that there was only one man for you, and his name was Lee Minho. Damn, that bastard. Jisung just really wanted to punch him. 

That didn’t stop Jisung from harboring tender feelings for you, though. Now that Jisung was also in college, and at the same one as you, he’d been determined to stick to your side like a burr. Minho had commented on this just once before you’d shut him down, explaining that Jisung was like a brother to you and that Minho had nothing to worry about. Minho, though, was not convinced and watched Jisung like a hawk anytime he was around.

“Fuck this!” you yelled, coming out of your bedroom. “I’m done, so done.”

“You good, Y/N?” Jisung said warily.

You flopped down on the couch next to him. “I’ll be fine,” you grumbled. “I just can’t study tonight.”

Jisung perked up at that. “So,” he drawled, “movie night?”

“God, please,” you begged, holding your head in your hands. “I just need something mindless. Were you just at the gym?” You’d clearly noticed that Jisung’s hair was wet and he was wearing his usual I-can’t-be-bothered-to-pick-out-an-outfit outfit of jeans and a sleeveless shirt. Since when did your little squirrel have biceps that nice?

“Yeah.” He ruffled your hair as he stood up. “Do you still have that cider I brought over last weekend?” Jisung called, heading into the kitchen. 

“It’s in the fridge, right where you left it. Get me some popcorn, too!”

Jisung rummaged in the refrigerator as you, presumably, began to scroll through your choices of shows and movies. A few minutes later, Jisung came back with popcorn, water, and the hard cider. 

“Are you okay with watching a sappy drama?” you asked as he sat down again. 

“Depends on which one,” Jisung answered, looking suspiciously over at you.

“Soooo, does that mean we can watch Miss Panda and Mr. Hedgehog?”

“Oh god, no. No, no!!” Jisung exclaimed, taking the remote from your hands. “It’s too sappy! Plus, I’ll just crave more sweets after watching it.”

“I mean, they’re baking in it, so it makes sense,” you said, reaching across his chest to grab for the remote. “Are you sure we can’t watch it?”

Jisung just held the remote out of your reach above his head. “Nope.”

“Pleeeeease.” You were whining now, not caring if you sounded like a five year-old. Jisung leaned away from you, still holding the remote out of reach. You stood up, pushed the coffee table back, and put your hands on your hips. “Han Jisung, could you please give me the remote?”

“Eh,” Jisung said, grinning, “don’t think so. This is more fun.”

You lunged forward then, and Jisung had to lean backward out of the way. With his arm thrown back over his shoulder and you standing in front of him, there wasn’t much he could do. Plus, he was trying not to notice the neckline of your tank top as it was directly in front of his face. He tried lightly kicking your ankles, but you didn’t move. You grabbed at the remote, still leaning over him, but Jisung managed to pass it back and forth between his hands. Finally, you stood back, crossing your arms. Jisung let out a sigh of relief—that had been a tense few moments. 

“Jisung,” you wheedled, “please? I just want to relax!”

“I do, too!” Jisung wasn’t quite annoyed, but he was getting there. He rested his arms behind his head, waving the remote lazily from side to side. “Let’s just watch something a little less fluffy than Miss Panda and Mr. Hedgehog, okay?”

You pouted. Jisung pouted right back at you, making you giggle. Ah, victory. 

Then, you lunged forward again and caught both of his wrists. Holding them together above his head, you shook his hands so he’d let go of the remote. Jisung decided to give in, even though he could have easily broken your hold. 

“Damn, Y/N. I wouldn’t want to fight you. You’re pretty feisty,” he said, as if he didn’t already know that from years of bailing you out of fights. He looked up into your face—your cheeks were a little flushed.

You just glared down at him, still holding his wrists above his head. “I’ll make you a deal,” you said. “I’ll watch whatever you want to if we can watch three episodes of Miss Panda and Mr. Hedgehog.”

“Sure,” Jisung said, realizing belatedly that his breath was coming a bit faster than normal.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

You let go of his wrists, which his shook a little for effect, then went to retrieve the remote from behind the sofa. 

Is it weird that was a total turn on? Jisung thought, running a hand through his hair. Fucking hell.

↠↞

“Minho, really. What the hell?” you demanded of your boyfriend.

“Y/N, if you’re going to moon over Jisung at every opportunity, I don’t think we should date anymore,” Minho said flatly.

“I don’t moon! He’s my best friend!”

“Whatever, Y/N, you do. I think you should reevaluate your feelings and priorities. In the meantime, I’m going. You’re wonderful and I loved you, but I can’t stay anymore. I wish you the best, Y/N.” 

With that, Lee Minho walked out the door of your apartment, closing it carefully behind himself. You stood there, staring blankly at the door.

Reevaluate my feelings and priorities? you thought. What exactly—

A knock on your apartment door jolted you out of your reverie. “Come in,” you called, knowing it was probably Jisung. It was.

“Where was Minho going?” he asked immediately. “He didn’t look happy. Did you two have a fight?”

“He just broke up with me, Jisung,” you said, unable to muster any emotion. You’d had a feeling that your relationship was coming to an end, but you hadn’t expected Minho to just walk out like that. You sighed.

“What?” Jisung burst out. “He just straight-up left you? What the fuck?”

“He said I needed to reevaluate my feelings and priorities. That was it.”

Jisung strode forward and enveloped you in a hug, ignoring your protests and wiggling. Finally, you stopped and put your arms around your best friend, leaning your head on his chest. You could hear his heart pounding. And then, it was like something inside you broke at the feeling of warm, protective arms around you. 

You started to cry. Jisung just held you, gently rubbing your back and telling you that everything would okay. Eventually, when you’d cried yourself into hiccups, Jisung let go of you. 

“Y/N,” he began, his voice low. “Don’t think about Minho. You had a good time while it lasted, but it’s done now. I don’t think he’ll be coming back.” He wiped the last remaining tears from your face, and, like an annoyed cat, you wrinkled your nose at being touched. “Let’s go get some dinner and then watch whatever sappy drama you’re into now, okay?”

You nodded your head as Jisung guided you to the couch to sit down. “Here,” he said gently, “let me get you some water and then we’ll go.”

As you sat there, sniffing occasionally, you thought of just how lucky you were to have Jisung in your life. Even though you teased him and had, when you were younger, pushed him around, he really was ever-present in your life. And, he’d always protected you and stood up for you. Why couldn’t have Minho been like that?

↠↞

A month later, you stopped by Jisung and Felix’s apartment for your usual gaming and movie night. Felix let you in, sunny as ever, and you made a beeline for the bathroom. You’d been there so many times that you didn’t exactly need to observe the usual niceties.

Taking out your earbuds, you opened the door and—

There before your eyes was Jisung. But this was not Jisung as you usually saw him. 

No, this was a very wet and very naked Han Jisung getting out of the shower.

Holy fuck.

You hurriedly slammed the door, but not before he realized that you’d seen him.

Your face beet-red, you practically sprinted back down the hall to the living room and Felix. “Why didn’t you tell me he was in the shower?” you all but yelled. 

“I didn’t know!” Felix said. Seeing your face, he burst out laughing. “You walked in on him, didn’t you.”

“Fucking hell, Felix. What do you think?”

Felix just continued to laugh.

With your mind racing faster than a bullet train, you sat down on the familiar couch. 

Well, you thought, I now know more about Jisung than I ever thought I would. Not that you were complaining, though. The mental picture of your best friend flashed—and stuck—before your eyes: abs for days, toned pecs, muscular legs, biceps that looked like ripe peaches, and . . . yeah. Nice. All very . . . nice. You hoped your mental math was correct.

But what about all those bruises on his chest and stomach? you wondered. They aren’t hickeys, that’s for sure. And were those scars? How the hell did he get those? You couldn’t figure it out.

After a few minutes, Jisung came out of his bedroom, toweling his hair dry. You tried not to stare at his arms. What the hell was going on? Get it together, Y/N, you told yourself.

“J— Jisung?” you began, stammering in your embarrassment.

“Yeah?” he said, completely casual as he leaned back in a chair. 

“Um, sorry I walked in on you. But, what were all those bruises? And the scars?”

In the kitchen, Felix stopped what he was doing to listen.

Jisung sighed and let the front legs of his chair fall to the ground again. He looked like what he was about to say would be, somehow, painful. “Don’t bite my head off, Y/N, okay?” he said.

“Why would I—” you began, but Jisung interrupted you.

“You’ll understand.” He took a deep breath. “I’m a boxer. I’ve been boxing since senior year of high school, with Changbin teaching me, and now I’m even in tournaments. I’ve even won a few. Remember when you got hit in the head by that volleyball? I started right after that. I started because I wanted to be able to protect you.

“All I’ve ever wanted to do is protect you, Y/N. It also happened to be fun. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to laugh at me or tell me to stop because you thought you could stand up for yourself with no problem. I know you can, but I wanted to be able to be there for you, too. So, here I am: a boxer.”

You stared at Jisung. A boxer? You weren’t quite sure what to say, but Jisung gave you a minute to process. You could see him trying to read your expression.

“So, when will you take me to a match?” you said eventually.

Jisung spluttered. “What? No! Hell no, Y/N. It’s loud and some of the fans are kind of crazy, and I just don’t think you’d like it.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” you said firmly. “When’s your next match?”

↠↞

You walked into the gymnasium in which the boxing matches were held and were immediately surprised. High in the seats, someone had a banner with J.One written on it. Jisung had told you that was what he went by in the boxing world. You looked around, following Felix to just behind where he and the rest of Jisung’s group would sit side-ring. Taking a seat, you noticed the first aid stations, the ropes, everything.

After what seemed like forever, the crowd roared as Jisung and his opponent for the night, Luke, came into the venue. You cheered along with everyone else, and were surprised that your best friend had this much of a following. He was pretty cool in his red shorts. Yet again, you found yourself trying not to stare at his muscles, but it was so hard not to when they were just there for all to see.

The match was to be a full twelve rounds. At the start of the first round, you leaned forward in your seat, trying to catch exactly what Jisung was doing and planning. Round after round went on, flying by quicker than you could’ve imagined. By Round Seven, you were on your feet, hands over your mouth. It was a close match.

↠↞

Jisung climbed the three stairs up to the platform and ducked under the ropes. This was it. His first match with you watching. He could do you and Changbin proud.

The bell rang and Jisung squared off against his opponent. He’d read up on the man, and knew that he should be okay if he kept moving. Jisung darted around the ring for the first minute, occasionally landing a punch here and there. His opponent jeered, calling him “milksop” and “green bastard,” but Jisung didn’t let that phase him. He was young but he’s wasn’t green anymore. By minute three, the other man was tiring from always being on the offensive, his obvious cockiness and, perhaps, anger getting the better of him. One arm was even drooping. How was this guy even any good? Jisung thought. 

Then, Jisung circled round to the side and took his opponent’s momentary lapse in readiness as an opportunity to land two blows on the man’s exposed shoulder, jarring the muscles. This would slow the man down even more. However, Jisung misjudged the strength the man had and, seconds later, ended up on the ground with the referee beginning the count of ten. He’d received two quick punches to the gut and one to chin—how he hadn’t been able to defend himself, he couldn’t guess—and was now quite unable to stand. 

“Knockout! End of round,” the referee shouted, and the crowd cheered. 

After a moment, Jisung struggled to his feet, cursing himself for a fool. He’d been tricked by one of the oldest ploys in the book: act weak and come out strong. As he hung on the ropes, Changbin passed water up to him and Jisung took a few sips, wiping his brow.

“So,” Changbin said casually, “did you figure out what went wrong?”

“Fuck, Changbin, of course I did. He got me when I thought he wasn’t strong enough to.”

“Just because Y/N’s here, doesn’t mean you can’t lose, Jisung. Focus. Don’t misjudge your opponent—there’s almost always a little something you don’t know, even if you’ve studied everything you can about them.” The beep signaling thirty seconds until Round Two sounded, and Changbin took back the water bottle. “Don’t worry about it—everyone goes down hard sometimes, you know that. Now go out there and prove you’re the damn good boxer I know you are.”

Jisung donned his gloves again, then stepped into his corner of the ring. His opponent leered at him. Did this guy never let up?

Still bobbing and weaving when necessary, he waited. The bell rang to signal the end of Round Five with both men still standing. They’d traded blows back and forth and Jisung was one round behind his opponent.

The bell rang for the start of the twelfth and final round, and Jisung tried to watch the other man with new eyes. Was he slower on his right side that his left? Was that just a birthmark or an old bruise? Could he really not bounce off the ropes as well as expected?

Yes. Jisung was certain of it all now.

His opponent went to jab, but Jisung blocked the punch and executed an uppercut to the other man’s chin. While he was still in close, Jisung followed this up with a short straight-punch to the ribs, where a bad bruise was clearly fading, and a hook to the side of the jaw. The other man was now disoriented and Jisung easily landed punch after punch, ending Round Twelve with a strong upper-hook. The referee counted ten as the bragging, red-haired man lay on the ground, Jisung watching from his corner of the ring. 

“Knockout! End of round!” 

Jisung slumped against the ropes, catching his breath. Blood ran down his chin from what was probably a tooth knocked out. His ribs hurt like fire, too. Taking another deep breath, he made his way off the platform. Changbin was there immediately with a towel and water.

“I think you’ve won, man!” he said excitedly. “You landed more accurate punches than that punch-out.”

“We’ll see,” Jisung conceded. Then, he tried laugh but his ribs hurt too much. “Turns out he could talk better than he could punch.”

Changbin smiled, patting Jisung on the back, and led him over to a chair. The fight doctor came over and started to examine Jisung. The judges deliberated for a few minutes, then came to their decision. Changbin had been right. Jisung managed to land more accurate punches than his opponent, which meant that, even though he’d been knocked out in the first round, he still had more points to his name. 

Jisung had won. He grinned, and turned round to face you.

↠↞

Jisung turned his blood-covered face up to you when the judges announced his victory. Changbin and Felix were motioning for you to come down to the floor, too. You were beaming, not daring to believe the excitement and flutters of your heart.

You reached your best friend and, completely disregarding the orders of the fight doctor, swung you up into his arms. In no way did you care that your clothes were now covered in sweat, water, and blood because you were Jisung, and that’s all that mattered. You carefully hugged Jisung back, then he drew back slightly and smirked. 

“See? I can fight,” he said. 

“Yeah? Hmm, I guess you’re all right,” you laughed. 

“Good,” Jisung murmured, then leaned in and caught your lips with his. You froze for a moment. When your mind caught up with reality, you kissed him back. You felt your insides fill with elation and what felt like sunlight, even as you tasted the faint traces of blood on Jisung’s lip. All of this felt right: you, Jisung, and some sort of fight happening. But now, you could add kisses to that list—a necessary addition, you thought with a smile. After all, you and Jisung against all odds was how it’d always been and always would be.