#i once somehow messed up boiling water and it decided to boil over

[sabh0]

quick thingy i don't feel like cleaning up, oopsie

[etherealyoungk]

third time's a charm - kim mingyu

summary: you and mingyu are rivals, having restaurants near each other and just hating each other's guts for wanting to be the top restaurant in the area. but life's not always fair and you and mingyu end up having to work together. throw in a little bit of angst, spice, fluff, and mutual pining.

pairing: chef!mingyu x chef!reader

warnings: enemies to lovers kinda, fluff, angst, kissing, suggestive and suggestive language, implied smut, mentions of alcohol, use of curse words, and mingyu being an annoying ass but <3 he's so fine

word count: 6.5k // lowercase intended

a/n: a repost of my chef mingyu series as a one-shot. i had so much fun writing this, i hope you enjoy reading it.

chef!mingyu and you are rivals, having restaurants near each other and just hating each other's guts wanting to be the top restaurant in the area. but then one day you both get hired for a private event because the person who was getting married likes both of your food and couldn't choose between the two and asked if you both could maybe collaborate and work. you would have said no but the money was too good to lose out on. so here you are bickering with mingyu as you sit late into the night in his restaurant, trying to decide the menu for the wedding event. he'll just be so fucking cocky with a stupid smirk plastered on his face because he's just that confident about his skills and cooking and you both just can't seem to agree on anything.

"you're so annoying god, how am i supposed to work with you", you mumble. "come on baby, let's both put aside our differences and work like professionals", mingyu says, but the tone he says it in makes your blood boil.

"i swear if you stress me out i will kill you", you say. "ah don't worry baby, besides i know some ways we can destress", he says giving you a wink and making you almost choke on the water you were sipping on.

you both have a taste test of the menu first before finalising it. so you head back to mingyu’s restaurant the next day and it’s just the two of alone in the kitchen as you cook the dishes. mingyu is in charge of starters and mains while you were in charge of the two desserts. mingyu will not shy away from taunting you and just trying to flirt and mess with you because he's a jerk like that, but fuck he looked so hot when he was in his element cooking. he tastes your dishes and will be surprised at how good it is. "it's pretty good", he admits. "duh what did you think", you reply annoyed. "thought it would taste like shit", he says and you smack his arm. "i told you not to get on my nerves", you warn and he just chuckles saying sorry as he licks the plate clean.

then on the day of the event somehow you ended up with missing ingredients so you had to make do with what you had, having a full panic attack as you try to stay calm and finish cooking in the time given. mingyu surprisingly wouldn't be a jerk that day and would come to help you re-plan your menu and dishes and once his service was over, he'd come and help you plate the desserts. finally done with the hectic day, you both head home and you end up crashing in mingyu's place because you had a little too much to drink. you would wake up wondering where the hell you were in the morning until you see a shirtless mingyu in front of you and the smell of something sweet in the air.

"are you awake baby? i didn't know if you liked pancakes or french toast so i made both", he says with a smile. you can't seem to remember anything from the night before but seeing mingyu shirtless and you in one of mingyu's shirts in his bed makes you start thinking things.

"did we...sleep together?", you ask, confused and he just smirks. "why? baby don't you remember?", he teases, putting the plate down on the table. "n-no", you mumble. "if you're teasing me i swear i will kill you", you say giving him a death stare. "i mean, you were pretty much all over me last night", he says and your jaw drops.

"liar", you say and he shakes his head, grinning. "i had to lock the guest room and sleep because i was so scared", he adds and you roll your eyes. "but if you do want to sleep together, i'd be more than happy to oblige", he says with a wink as he grins, leaning forward making your breath hitch. god, he was so annoying.

after you woke up in mingyu's bed that day, you're just not able to stop thinking about him and it just annoys you even more because his stupid smirk is engraved in your mind. "if you want to sleep with me, i'd be happy to oblige?" that fucker. you mumble to yourself and head to the restaurant that day and try to tune out mingyu. but then just when you thought your day couldn't get any worse, it does. your ex decided to give you a visit because they were 'missing you' and you're just even more ticked off because of the way they're pitying you and thinking your life sucks because they’re not with you anymore. the way they’d be just boasting about their life now and just thinking you didn't move on was infuriating.

"so did you move on from me? i know you loved me so the breakup must have hit you hard", they say, making you absolutely seeth with anger. who the hell did they think they were? just then you spot mingyu from the corner of your eye. you had forgotten you had asked him to come over because you had forgotten your wallet at his place and he offered to come to drop it off back to you that evening.

so you put on your fakest smile and do something stupid, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

"baby, you're finally here!", you say loudly, walking over to mingyu as he comes up to you both. you latch your arm around mingyu's, leaning your head on his arm. "i was waiting for you", you add looking at mingyu as you bat your eyelashes at him. mingyu would just be so confused as he looks at you. you give him a small nudge with your elbow, as you side-eye your ex hoping, he'll get the message and play along. and thankfully he does. he smiles, and his arm goes around your waist, pulling you closer than you already were.

"were you waiting long? the traffic was horrible", he says. your ex just watches all this unfold. "oh, you should meet my boyfriend", you say as you look at your ex. they just give you both a stiff smile. "we should head home soon baby, i have something special planned", mingyu adds, leaning in to kiss your cheek, catching you off guard. you ex excuses himself and finally heads off. you watch as he leaves, rolling your eyes.

"that asshole", you mutter. "who do they think there are huh, can't believe i actually dated a piece of shit like them", you add, clearly frustrated. a few more profanities leave your lips while mingyu just looks at you, amused at the situation he's been caught in. you don't even realize that you're still holding mingyu's hand until you feel him squeeze your hand ever so slightly. so you look down and look back up at him before letting go of his hand. he smile on his face would drop because of how fast you let go of his hand but he won't say anything.

"so i'm your boyfriend now?", he asks with that stupid smile as he raises an eyebrow. "noo", you defend and he pouts.

"kidding, anyways who was that guy?", he prompts. "my ex, that little shit", you say and mingyu can tell you're extremely annoyed. "here's your wallet", he says as he hands it to you, fetching it from his pocket. "thank you", you say, really grateful this time, because as annoying as he was, he was still a nice guy.

mingyu would offer to drive you home and you agree because it was raining and you didn't really have any other means of transportation so late at night. "i could really use a drink or two", you say as mingyu drives. so that's how you end up in a bar nearby, having a heart-to-heart conversation with mingyu - your rival in business and the guy to who you refused to believe you were attracted. and once again, you find yourself waking up in an unfamiliar bed, only to realize it's mingyu's bed...again. "fuck", you mutter as you try to get out of bed, but mingyu enters - shirtless of course.

"awake baby? i think i'm having deja-vu", he says, his arms crossed over his chest as he looks at you. "i'm sorry...you could have just dropped me home", you add. "but you basically passed out on the couch, how the hell was i supposed to drop you off home in that state", he counters. fair point. "okay im sorry. i'll treat you to lunch and dinner for letting me crash the twice", you add and he smiles satisfied with the deal.

"so...do you remember what happened last night?", he adds, with a glint in his eyes. "hm what happened?", you ask, confused. you again have no recollection of the night before. he clicks his tongue. "im disappointed baby, i thought you would remember", he says as he walks up to the bed. "why...what happened?", you ask, unsure. "you really don't remember?", he frowns and shakes his head. "you don't remember asking me to sleep with you? i had to pry you off me", he says and you are horrified. "what…i would never....i didn't", you stutter.

"hell you even tried to steal a few smooches". "stop lying, i swear i will actually strangle you", you tell making him chuckle, showing his pretty smile. "no, but you really did ask me to sleep with you baby", he says completely serious this time and you can feel your cheeks heat up because what the fuck. you really must've had too much to drink.

"it must've been a while since your last partner if you're so desperate for me", he'll tease. asshole. "i'll happily oblige if you ask me sober though", he adds with a wink making you whack him with the pillow.

you'll go home that day annoyed, hot, and bothered and won't be able to stop thinking about mingyu and his stupidly handsome face and body.

doesn't it suck to have the person you hate on your mind constantly? expect it wasn't exactly hate with mingyu. it was more how you just refused to believe you were attracted to him that made you think about him even more. not to mention you were business rivals, so you didn't want to do anything stupid.

it's been a few weeks and as much it pained you to admit it, you did wish mingyu stopped by, but he hadn't in the last few weeks. and just as you were locking up and about to leave, you saw a familiar figure strolling inside your restaurant - mingyu.

"what do you want?", you ask coldly, tired from the long day. "now is that how you greet a friend?", he asks, crossing his arms over his chest. you noticed how the shirt he was wearing just hugged his body and arms, showing off his biceps. and he was wearing glasses too. fuck he looked so hot tonight. you cleared your throat before speaking.

"im tired okay, what's up?", you repeat. "just came for dinner", he prompts and you're lost. "sorry what? we're closed", you say. "did someone forget they owe me lunch and dinner? how ungrateful", he says, shaking his head with a scoff. right, you promised him you'd treat him for letting you crash in his place.

"right...what do you want?", you ask. "i want you to cook me something that you love to eat", he asks. "i'll buy you something how's that?", you bargain. "no can do baby. or do you want the whole world to know that you're dying to sleep with me", he asks with a raised brow making you narrow your eyes at him. "you're such an ass", you mumble, purposely nudging your elbow into him as you walk ahead.

you lock up and mingyu would drive you back to your place where you decide to cook your favorite pasta for him. it was simple, easy to make, and super yummy too. mingyu would hang around in the kitchen as you started cooking, and maybe give you some unsolicited decor advice, making you roll your eyes. and you notice how mingyu's hands would just automatically start helping you gather ingredients or things - i guess that’s what happens when you cook for a living. you'd have to smack his hands off, telling him you'd manage to make him pout.

he'll lean back on the other end of the counter as you stand chopping some vegetables and doing some prep for the pasta. "so did your ex pay you a visit again?", mingyu asks, looking at you keenly. "that idiot did come in the morning again, and was asking where you were", you say. "what did you say?", "nothing, just that you were at work", you add. "but i don't think he'll come again, hopefully", you add.

"was he good in bed?", mingyu asks, like it's the most normal question in the world, catching you completely off guard. "excuse me? what kind of question is that?", you say, looking at him. "what, can't i know about your loser ex? i'm guessing he was pretty shit seeing as you've been dying to sleep with me", he adds with a smug smirk as he pushes his glasses up. "what- firstly i am not dying to sleep with you and secondly, i don't see why that actually matters to you", you tell, getting annoyed. mingyu did an excellent job getting on your nerves.

"yeah so he was shit in bed", mingyu concludes when you avoid the question. "fuck you mingyu", you say, giving his a side eye. "oh, so you want me to? i'll gladly do it, just ask", he says nonchalantly. "like you're that good in bed either", you mumble to yourself, but obviously mingyu heard you.

"is that a challenge baby? do you want me to show you", he asks with a raised brow. "whatever, oh my god, just let me cook", you snap back at him, getting your focus back onto prepping for the pasta.

after a few seconds of silence, mingyu speaks up again. "baby, if you need help, i'll be more than happy to. it feels awkward just standing here doing nothing", he asks again. "firstly, my name is -", you start, looking up to glance at mingyu. and maybe it was because you looked away for a second or because you were tired, your hand slipped and the knife sliced your finger. "OW", you yelp, dropping the knife on the counter as you clutch your finger to your chest.

mingyu would be by your side in an instant. "what happened?", he asks and he gets his answer from the drops of blood on the countertop. "shit", he mutters. he can tell by the way your finger is bleeding that it's deep and bad cut. "where's your first aid kit", he asks urgently. "top shelf on the right", you mumble. he'll clear the countertop, pushing all the ingredients and chopping board to the side to make some space for you. you feel his hands on your waist as he gently hoists you up so you're now sitting on the countertop.

"here, let me see", he asks softly. you open your hands and hear him take in a sharp breath. it was pretty bad. you had cut not one, but two fingers and they were pretty deep slices, ouch. he'll wipe your finger with a wet cloth first. then he'll dab the disinfectant on, and you close your eyes because it burned like shit. "oww it hurts", you whine. "let me do it, i can manage mingyu", you huff but he won't let you. "don't - just let me help you".

he'll clean your other cuts and it just burns so bad you end up leaning your forehead on mingyu's shoulder, as he's standing in front of you. he'll gently bandage your fingers and make sure you were all okay. "done, you are okay baby?", he asks as you're still leaning your head against him. "hm", you manage to say. you lift your head up but you're still so close to mingyu, you gulp as you look at him. "sorry, i guess i was just tired", you tell softly. "you should have told me, we could have done this another time", he scolds. "i owed you though", you mumble, looking down. and i wanted to spend time with you.

"i'll be okay, it's no big deal", you add and you're hyper-aware of mingyu's hands resting on your thighs as he stares at you. "you're really stubborn you know", he adds making you scoff. "stubborn? me?? have you seen yourself, you're so damn cocky about everything", you counter. he won't say anything but he did love seeing you all feisty, he thought it was hot. "what can i say, i like being the best in everything i do", he counters, giving you a little smirk.

and you can't take it anymore. you couldn't take his stupid smile and how stupidly attracted you were to him. you couldn't take the tension anymore, so you just grabbed mingyu by the collar of his shirt and pulled him forward, kissing him. he would be caught off guard for a second but he'll smirk into the kiss, kissing you back as he moves his lips against yours. his hand moves up to cup your cheek as your fist where you held the collar of his shirt tightens, feeling giddy with the kiss. you pull away.

"we shouldn't be doing this", you say breathlessly. "give me one good reason why we shouldn't", he responds as he captures your lips again, his other hand going to wrap around your waist, pulling you closer against him. "fuck...because we're rivals and i'm supposed to hate you", you mumble between kisses. "let's just screw that and start over", he says as he leaves a trail of soft kisses on your collarbone. but your mind is too fuzzy to care anymore. you look at him, his lips pink and plump from all the kissing. he starts to kiss your neck, making you gasp as your eyes flutter close.

"m-mingyu", you whisper. "tell me what you want baby", he groans softly, kissing up to your jawline as you grip his arm. "you're so annoying", you mumble softly. he moves his hand to remove his glasses when you stop him. "don't, i like how they look on you", you say, looking at him as you bite your lip. "oh really? how does it look on me?", he asks, fully knowing the answer but he just wanted to hear it from you. "makes you look so hot", you mumble against his lips, kissing him. he kisses you back as he moves his lips against yours. his hand moves up to cup your cheek as your fist where you held the collar of his shirt tightens, feeling giddy with the kiss.

you don't know how you made it to your bed, as mingyu hovers over you, his shirt thrown somewhere to the side. "i'll fuck you so good that the only name you'll remember is mine", he taunts, whispering in your ear before kissing you again. his cheeks are flushed and his hair falling over his face as he looks down at you. with such passion making you dizzy.

you stir awake and open your eyes to see mingyu soundly sleeping next to you. his arm is lazily around your waist, his hair falling over his hair in a cute mess. the events of last night are still clear in your head. what was going to happen now? what were the two of you?

you gently move, trying not to wake up mingyu, but he stirs slowly beside you, his arm tightening against your waist as he pulls you closer. "five more minutes", he mumbles and you can't really do anything to get out of his killer grip, so you lay there in his arms, admiring his pretty face.

"your five minutes are up", you say, pushing against his chest to get out of his hold, making mingyu open his eyes. "you're so mean", he mumbles, letting you get out of his grasp.

your clothes are scattered on the floor from the night before and you reach out for the closest thing near you - mingyu's shirt. you can definitely see him check you out as you are draped in his shirt as he shows his pretty grin to you. mingyu makes breakfast and soon you both part ways, having to attend to the restaurant.

that night, you crash in bed and you can't stop thinking about what happened between you both. what was going to happen? how could you possibly stay friends with him? would it be weird? and mostly, you were scared. you still didn't want to admit how you felt about him. and after last night's events, you were even more confused and unsure. so you do the worst thing anyone can do - try to avoid mingyu and pretend like it didn't happen.

it's easy at first because you're both busy with your work. but mingyu would leave you occasional texts to which you would just reply with short sentences, making up excuses that you were busy or tired if he asked if you were free for dinner or coffee. but then mingyu obviously picks up on your behavior and maybe starts to feel bad. and he decides to finally do something about it.

you wrap up for the night and are heading out the door when you bump into someone since you were looking at your phone as you walked. "ouch-oh", you let out upon seeing whom you had bumped into - mingyu.

"hi", you say, gaining your balance as you step back. "hi" he says as he looks at you. "what's up?", you ask. "i'm here to get my second treat from you", he adds and when you give him a confused look he elaborates. "did someone forget they owe me two meals?", he prompts with a raised eyebrow. this annoying asshole.

"thought you forgot about", you mumble under your breath. "how could i, what do you take me for", he teases making you glare at him. since you'd been avoiding him, you forgot how cocky and annoying he was, even though you hated to admit how much it turned you on and how much you found him insanely attractive.

"what do you want? i'll buy you dinner", you tell. "nope, you've to make me something", he tells, not budging. "fine i'll make you ramen", you tell. he raises his eyebrows. "are you flirting with me right now?", he asks. you simply push past him and walk ahead mumbling under your breath as he laughs and follows behind you.

you both are in your apartment now. taking a pot, you fill it with water and wait for it to boil as mingyu leans back against the counter. you're about to chop some green onions when mingyu steps in. "let me, don't want you cutting yourself again", he says as he takes the knife from you, chopping them neatly. you just hoped he didn't bring up what happened last time now because you would die on the spot if he did that.

"so...can i ask you why you've been avoiding me?", he finally asks. your leaning against the other side of the counter now as mingyu turns back to look at you. great, here we go.

"what do you mean, i haven't been avoiding you", you lie, trying to sound convincing but mingyu can see right through you. "don't lie baby, it's very obvious", he says crossing his arms across his chest, which only emphasized his biceps even more.

"is it because of what happened between us last time?", he asks as he looks at you. the way he looks at you and waits tells you that he did genuinely have feelings for you. you liked him too, he definitely made your heart jump. but you both were supposed to be rivals and you're feelings were complicated, and you didn't know how to say it.

"i'm not going to lie, i did feel bad. i thought there was a spark between us you know", he says. the water is boiling now but mingyu didn't move and neither did you.

"yeah, it was fine. just... let's just treat it like a one-night stand and move on okay. forget about it", you tell, dismissing the topic and your feelings completely, and you didn't miss the flash of hurt that reflected in mingyu's eyes.

you come forward to put the ramen in the water along with the flavoring packets as you try to ignore mingyu's presence next to you. "wow", he finally says. "so that's all it was to you? it didn't mean anything? because from what i remember i clearly felt something and so did you", he adds, not letting go of the topic.

"it's just something that happened-" "did you want it", he asks cutting you off. the ramen is still boiling but neither of you pays attention to it anymore. "i mean yeah but that doesn't need to define our relationship", you tell. "what are we now?", you ask.

"i don't know but i thought it could be the start of something. but seeing how you just thought about it as a one-night stand and have been ignoring me ever since tells me all i need to know", he tells as he runs a hand through his hair. you finally turn back your attention to the ramen, which is clearly been boiling for too long. turning off the stove, you serve some for yourself and mingyu and push the bowl toward him.

neither of you talk as you both eat, mingyu inhaling the noodles. you can tell he's pissed off but he still helps you clean up before leaves, only telling you thanks for the ramen as he steps out the door of your apartment.

that week mingyu doesn't text you or call. it was selfish of you to think that he would. but still, you unconsciously found yourself waiting for his text or his goofy face to pop by your restaurant. and that's when you realized you missed him. you really did like him a lot. that night after a long day and a long week, you find yourself drinking alone in the corner of a small local restaurant, just drowning in your sorrows. you were pretty tipsy at this point and some random person decided to sit next to you, annoying you and trying to make small talk with you.

"can you leave, please? i don't think i know you", you tell but they don't seem to listen. that's when you hear a familiar voice. "i think you need to go", the voice says and you look up. "who are you?" "they're my partner", you hear the voice say as the person gets up, walking off as the person glares at him.

the mystery person who just saved you takes a seat opposite you and you stare at him trying to figure out where you've seen him before. "you look like someone i know", you tell, taking another sip of your drink, only to find the glass empty as you ask for another drink. "yeah you look like this guy mingyu", you tell and he chuckles because it was, in fact, mingyu who was sitting in front of you.

after taking a few sips of your refreshed drink, you launch into an explanation about mingyu...to mingyu because you're too drunk to realize mingyu is in front of you and you just needed to get things off your chest.

"who's mingyu?", he asks. "this guy who's super annoying but also so attractive. and i just fucked up big time with him. we ended up sleeping together but then i just told him to forget about it basically. and now i'm just going to die single", you tell. mingyu smiles softly at that. " but how do you feel about him?", he asks, curious to know what you really felt and thought about him.

"i do like him, even though he's too cocky for his own good and annoying, he's pretty cool. i can't seem to think straight when i'm around him. i was just scared to admit my feelings after and screwed up, causing a mess. but i really really do like him", you tell, as you down your drink. mingyu stops your hand when you ask for another drink. "i think you've had enough for tonight baby, let's get you home", he says and soon he's driving you back home while you're passed out asleep in the passenger seat of his car.

you stir awake in bed, your head heavy from last night's drinking. you open your eyes and look around. since when did you have yellow walls? you look around and get up, realizing this isn't your room, but why does it seem vaguely familiar? just then a head peeps into the room - mingyu.

what the hell? he sees you awake and gives you that toothy, stupid, pretty smile. "you're awake i see", he tells, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorframe. "you should just move into my place, i can see that you love it so much", he adds, being sarcastic and teasing you. "why am i here?", you ask, confused, not being able to recall how or why you even ended up in mingyu's house. you're just hoping you didn't do anything stupid last night.

"bad memory again baby?", he prompts and you give him a small glare.

"shit", you mumble under your breath as you wrack your brain and try to recall last nights events. "sorry i keep crashing at your place", you add, feeling guilty. "i made breakfast, eat before it get's cold", he says before retreating back to the dining hall. you follow him after a minute and you're about to just walk away.

"it's fine, i'll eat later", you say but mingyu just puts the plate in front of you, guiding you to a seat and pushing you down to sit. "you're really going to refuse my world famous french toast?", he asks.

you take a bite and nod because it was actually very yum. "how'd i end up here anyway?", you ask, looking at mingyu. "you texted me", he says and you wait for him to explain more. "or like left me a few really misspelled drunk texts which i had to put together to figure out where you were". then you remember. right, that's what i was doing, trying to forget about mingyu, yet here you were at his house.

"and then you passed out in my car when i was driving you home and you wouldn't wake up so i had to take you back to my place", he explains between bites of his toast. you cringe at the memory. "sorry", you mumble out.

later that week you still can't stop thinking about mingyu and even more so. he was just so sweet and charming. and you missed him. you're laying down in bed and it's late. you're staring at the ceiling and thinking about mingyu and your feelings. what were you so scared off? was you going to push away somehow just because you were unsure and scared, and maybe lose out on something because of that and then regret it? you didn't want to. you'd done that plenty of times before and knew how it ended. so you get up. you were not going to make the same mistake with mingyu.

you threw on a hoodie and shoes and took the bus, making your way to mingyu's house. you run from the bus stop to his place, not caring if people gave you weird looks. you were just hoping that it wasn't too late and that mingyu would still listen and maybe give you a chance.

you run up the stairs not caring to wait for the elevator and ring his doorbell, leaning your hand against his door as you catch your breath. the door opens and you lose your balance, falling right into mingyu's arm. he catches you. "woah woah", he says seeing you. "y/n?", he asks, seeing you breathless. "are you okay? did something happen?", he asks again. you step inside, the door closing behind you.

"let me get you some water and-", "i like you too okay", you tell, catching him off guard and he just stares at you. "i like you a lot mingyu. i was just scared of my feelings and pushed you away and i was an idiot but now i realized now. i'm sorry about the other day, i shouldn't have said that but now i can see it, that i really like you", you continue in one breath as you look at mingyu.

mingyu falters, trying to hide the smile that so desperately wants to burst across his face. "damn, i didn't think you'd be so upfront about it", he tells as he smiles at you finally. "so you finally decided that you like me huh", he teases, taking a stride ahead as you take a step back until you're backed up against the door. mingyu stands in front of you, his arms on both sides of your body. he leans in ever so slightly. "y-yeah", you reply softly as you look at his lips.

mingyu smiles and you can't take it anymore. you lean forward and kiss him, melting right into his arms as his hands move to your waist, pulling you against him. god you had missed this. his lips were soft and they moved against yours making you dizzy. "i missed you", you whisper against his lips and he lets out a soft grunt. "me too baby but i knew you'd come around", he says. he sees your furrowed brows and realizes you didn't remember the drunk confession you had made to him.

"you don't remember? that night you called me over and like told me everything and confessed when you were drunk. i was just waiting for you to tell me when you were sober", he tells, kissing your jaw. "i really need to cut down on alcohol", you mutter and he chuckles. you find his lips again and kiss him. "you're really darn stubborn you know", mingyu tells you once he breaks away making you whack his arm.

he grins as he chases after your lips again, guiding you to the couch, pulling you on top of him, never once breaking away, making you breathless once again. "you now owe me another meal", he mumbles between kisses. "hm", you mumble, pecking his nose.

"be my boyfriend?", you ask, looking at him and he grins at that word. "whatever you want baby, i'm all yours", he tells as he kisses you again and you get lost in the feeling of his kisses and how his lips feel on yours.

it's been about three months since you and mingyu have been dating after you finally came to your senses and finally acknowledged your feelings about him. and honestly you were so happy. mingyu was sweet, funny, honest, passionate, and still annoyingly attractive but who were you to complain because you had him all to yourself now.

you're at mingyu's place because you're finally keeping your end of the deal and cooking another meal for him because you still owed mingyu one last meal, and he wasn't going to let you forget about it. after months of nagging and forgetting, remembering and nagging again, here you are, cooking him a meal.

"i really didn't think you'd make me cook for you again after i admitted how i felt like that's just petty", you tell. "we made a deal and it still has to be fulfilled", he counters. "i was glad you forgot about it...until now", you mumble and he chuckles.

you had prepared pork tonkatsu with some sides and you set everything on the table. "looks good", he says. "of course, this is like my specialty", you tell proudly with a smile. you watch as mingyu takes a bite and chews. "it's...better than i expected", he admits and you smile. "see, everyone loves it"

oh, and mingyu still loves to tease you about how you were 'playing hard to get' on purpose. "you know i still don't get why you hated me", he asks after dinner, where you both are sitting on the couch, having some cake mingyu bought.

"i didn't hate you", you defend. "liar, you totally hated me like i swear i saw lasers shooting from your eye the first time we met", he counters and you roll your eyes at his exaggeration.

"i just...i don't know, i thought you were so full of yourself and too cocky...and too good looking", you tell mumbling the last part. "hm what was that baby?", he prods, as he puts his plate down. "nothing", you tell. "speak up baby", "that you were too good looking oh my god", you tell, annoyed.

''you left out the most important part". "what?", you ask, confused. "that you were dying to sleep with me", he completes, with a stupid smirk.

"mingyu!", you exclaim, whacking his arm as he laughs. "i was not okay", you tell, putting down your plate too. "i just-" "was so desperate for me", he says, finishing the sentence for you, making you glare at him as he leans closer, wrapping his arm around your waist as he pulls you closer to him.

"you're so annoying", you huff. "only for you", he replies, as he leans in to kiss you and you get lost in the feeling of his lips on yours.

"you need to cook me something next time", you mumble as you pull away. "whatever you want baby", he says as he chases after your lips again, making you melt in his embrace.

taglist: @joshuaahong @naaaaafla

i'd love to know what you thought :) reblogs appreciated <3

[rorywritesjunk]

All I dream of lately is how to get you underneath me

It was Buggy's turn to do your makeup.

Rating: R because the girlfriend can't keep her hands to herself or keep her dirty mind from wandering.

Warning: None really, just suggestive themes. Buggy has a bun because I can't help myself, and chest hair. Mentions of nipple piercings on Buggy because why not? And Buggy is a damn tease as well.

A/N: Sequel to the makeup fic. I wrote two versions of this before deciding the second one was more on track with how the original went. It's inspired by a tag from @sporadicthingcollection from the first fic. Title comes from "Closer" by Tegan & Sara.

Part One is here!

The bath had been comforting, warm, and much needed. This time it wasn't Buggy having a bad day and needing some pampering, it was you. Between losing half your groceries from ripped bags to a pot of water boiling over on the stove and making a huge mess, your foot had also been run-over by Cabaji on his unicycle while you were trying to help some of the performers literally find their marks. It wasn't the first time your foot was a victim to the unicycle, but in the chaos of the day, you didn't think to wear shoes and well, the tread-mark shaped cuts on your foot was a reminder to do so next time.

You toweled off and pulled your robe on, wincing as you limped over to the bed to sit. Buggy was sitting at his vanity, only in his underwear as he unwinded from the day as well. His hair was up in a messy bun, his back to you as he wiped away the day's makeup. It was always a fascinating sight to you, and you knew you were lucky to see him in a near vulnerable state like this.

He rummaged through the drawers of the vanity for something before looking up at the mirror and seeing you reflected back at him on the bed. He smirked, the red around his mouth still prominent, making the smirk appear larger than it was.

"See something you like?" He teased. You flushed at being caught staring. 

"Always." You shot back as you continued watching him, a thought coming to your mind. It was dumb to ask. You both were going to bed in the next few hours, but you didn't know when a better time to ask would be. "Buggy, can I ask you something?"

"Depends." He replied as he looked back at himself in the mirror. "What is it?"

"Um… could you do my makeup?" You asked. "It's just… I like seeing how you do yours and… thought maybe you'd be able to do mine? But I get it if you don't want to, you know, I don't think I really have the face for it."

He pushed his chair away from the vanity and stood up. He didn't say anything as he turned to face you and crossed the room in just a few steps. You wondered if you offended him somehow by the way he grabbed your face when he approached you, staring down at you before smashing his lips against yours in a surprising kiss. You gasped when he pulled away, head spinning as you wondered what the fuck brought that on.

"Thought you'd never ask." He grinned. "Let's get started."

He went back to the vanity and started rummaging through drawers, piling whatever his findings were on the top. You wondered if you should even bother to change into clothes since you would likely end up naked by the end anyway, it would be less of a hassle to stay in your robe.

He came back over a few minutes later and gestured for you to scoot into the middle of the bed. Oh, he was going to do it on the bed, like how you did for him. You scooted to the middle of the bed and grabbed a pillow to stick under your head before making sure your robe stayed closed. He crawled on top of you, knees on either side of your body as you moved your hands to rest over your chest. He didn't need to pin your hands down because you weren't going to grope him like he did to you every time you did his makeup.

Once he settled on top of you and you realized the view you would have, you suddenly realized that oh, you can see why he couldn't keep his hands to himself.

Sure, you had been under him plenty of times, but not like this. For one thing, his thighs were right there. Of course you've been between them, looking up at him from the ground as you sometimes knelt down in front of him while he sat in his captain's chair, his pants undone as your mouth su-

"Babe." He snapped you back to reality. Your face was red. "You good?"

"Y-Yes." You replied as your fingers twitched, needing to be touching something to keep you focused. He seemed to notice and grabbed them, placing them both on top of his thighs, the last place you wanted to be touching right then because you knew them so well. You knew how they felt under you whenever you were straddling his lap, whether it was in bed or his chair, naked, riding him until-

He cleared his throat and you up at him again, turning redder in the face.

"Behave." He teased as he held up two eyeliner pencils near your eyes. He studied them for a moment before tossing one aside and uncapping the other. He then leaned down, face close to your own as he carefully moved the pencil along your bottom eyelid, looking at you but not really. The urge to pull him down for a kiss was there, and you thought the possibility of losing an eye would be worth it if you got to kiss him right then.

He was finished quicker than you thought and kissed your forehead. You realize you didn't specify how to do your makeup. Was he going to do something elaborate or simple? Your fingers tapped nervously against his thighs as you started to wonder if this was a good idea. You had worn makeup a few times in your younger years but it never looked right, so you gave up trying to learn how to do it on yourself.

But damn were you glad to have asked him to do it. It was a different kind of intimacy having him leaning over you, an eyeshadow palette in one hand and a brush in the other as he whispered for you to close your eyes, which you did without hesitation. Your hands stayed on his thighs, moving up and down his thighs slowly, fingers crooking to drag your nails over his skin. You didn't really pay attention to how much you were moving your hands until you felt the fabric of his boxers against your knuckles. You decided to push your luck as you flattened your hands back down and began to slide them up his boxers slowly.

"Babe!" He yelped as he swatted at your hand. "Hey!"

You cracked one eye open and grinned. "Sorry, didn't realize what I was doing."

"Liar." He scolded, looking scandalized by your actions. "I'll sit on you like you do me if you don't watch it."

"Aw, but Buggy!" You whined. "I can't help it!"

"Watch it." He warned as he held the brush threateningly. "Everything else is fair game right now but that. Just wait."

You pouted up at him as you let your hands move to his waist instead, your thumbs running along the waistband of his boxers. He seemed fine with that and you closed your eyes again as he began brushing the eyeshadow over your lids.

It was just hard not to touch him. Before you knew it, you were sliding your hands up his sides, to his chest, your thumbs brushing over his nipples, resisting the urge to tug on the piercings he had there. You felt him flinch when you touched him, so of course you did it again before running your fingers through his chest hair, hands moving up to his neck so your arms could wrap around him. He cleared his throat and you opened your eyes. 

"Okay, I gotta keep you still." He said. "You're getting too handsy."

"But Buggyyyyyy!" You pouted up at him. "I can't help it, really. Just… fuck, you should see what I'm seeing right now. You look so damn beautiful like this."

He blushed but said nothing as he set the eyeshadow aside. He reached back to unhook your arms from around his neck, pushing them above your head suddenly and holding them against the mattress. He held them down with one hand while the other moved to your cheek, stroking your flushed skin softly.

"And if you could see how you looked right now, babe, underneath me like this…” He trailed off as he tightened his grip on your wrists, his other hand now sliding down your body, untying your robe, touching your stomach as it moved between your legs. You inhaled sharply, trying to move your legs apart for him, biting back a moan.

And then he pulled his hand back without even touching you.

“Buggy!” You whined. “Why?!”

“We’re not finished yet, babe.” He smirked. “I still have to do your lipstick.”

[rotten7rat]

Batfamily + Cooking

Alfred:

He's the main cook, and has been since taking the job as the Wayne's butler. Classically trained in the culinary arts, and thankfully stillvery much enjoys it, though not as much as he used to. He likes baking more than cooking, and has gotten more of a sweet tooth as he's gotten older. Leans more on your classic British dishes, but is always happy to try a requested recipe. Prefers to cook either alone or with competent help.

Bruce:

No. Cannot even be trusted to make a grilled cheese, he always burns them.

Barbara:

Pretty good. Very much a 'throw something together at 7:30, eat at 8' kind of person, but everyone is always happy to have what she cooks. If it takes hours to make then its not worth it. A teacher suggested once that being raised by a single father, she must do most of the cooking and cleaning, and after that she refused to learn how to cook out of sheer stubbornness.

Dick:

An excellent cook. I think it comes naturally to him, he didn't spend much time cooking growing up but once he taught himself the basics he can pretty much throw anything together. Its by no means a passion of his, but he does enjoy it. However, he doesn't cook often due to being too busy and/or tired, so he gets a lot of takeout or just has something quick or microwavable very often. But if he's cooking you best be there. Anything can be a social occasion and he happily accepts help in the kitchen. Not great at baking though, he always manages to over-cook or over-mix.

Cassandra:

I'm sorry but she will throw rice, water, and and an unseasoned chicken breast in the rice cooker and call it a night. Either that or she'll have a protein shake and seven eggs.

Jason:

Quite good. Unlike Dick, it doesn't come naturally to him, but he is a fast learner and picked it up mostly from Catherine, Alfred, and YouTube. That being said, would he prefer tortellini en brodo or four boxes of Kraft mac and cheese? Tamales or something quick and greasy from Bat Burger? Its always the second option. I think he often cooks as a distraction or just something to do, and just gives it to the single mother across the hall or throws it in the freezer to eat a week later.

Stephanie:

Decent. She'll see a recipe on TikTok and will try it instantly, and she's always excited to try something new. Works best with a recipe but decides just to wing it mostly. Cooking with her mother has become somewhat of a bonding activity. Really good at baking, especially things like brownies and cookies. However, she will also throw pickles, peanut butter and ice cream in a blender and swear it tastes fantastic. Is learning to cook more because everytime she sees Cass eating a boiled chicken breast she takes psychic damage. Trying to sneak meat alternatives into Cass without her noticing. It worked once.

Tim:

Not great. Will follow the recipe to the letter and will somehow still fuck it up. He mostly sticks to simple recipes that are hard to mess up, and also just doesn't have the desire to spend heaps of time in the kitchen. He does make a mean sandwich though, every time someone tries to replicate one its just never as good.

Duke:

Doesn't particularly enjoy cooking but he's fine at it. Not as bad as Cassandra, he will season his food, but prefers it to be quick and not complicated. Loves heavier foods like pastas and other carbs but doesn't have the patience or desire to make them from scratch so he uses jar sauces, frozen potatoes etc. Will put taco seasoning on everything.

Damian:

Good eventually. Doesn't cook a lot now, but when he was younger he had a kind of 'well obviously its not difficult, its just cooking' mindset. He was humbled. By Dick. I think when he's older he is much better. Will still follow a recipe so it is perfect every time. It isn't a hobby, just a task that must be completed, but he'll be damned if he's eating bland food, he will spend an hour preparing vegetable tagine. Nobody can help of even be in the kitchen with him while he is cooking, because they are breathing all the kitchen air and taking up all the room. Get out.

[handsome-john]

🎂 In his defense, Gears isn’t known for his emotional openness. He doesn’t even know which emotions to open, because it’s all a confusing mess. It feels so good to be around Clef that, for a while, he’s worried he’s somehow pavlov’d himself into associating good feelings (eating, savoring good food, being full, napping), with Clef. He more associates Clef with cooking than eating, though, the two of them softly bumping into one another, Clef grinning up at him with those pretty teeth, all three eyes bright…

…Gears decides, once again, that he is ill equipped to handle this situation. The last thing he wants to do is ruin his relationship with Clef, especially since Clef was so intrinsically linked with cooking. He doesn’t want cooking to be stained by heartbreak forever. He’d live, and probably move on, but there would always be a conspicuously Clef shaped hole in every meal he made, and he’d make far too much without a second person there.

Speaking of making food, it’s the fourteenth of April, which is, to Clef, their two month anniversary. Gears makes a decadent shrimp scampi— the sauce is rich, buttery and creamy, cut through with the sharp tang of lemon and freshly chopped parsley. He wears a nice shirt, the blue one Clef got him, and khakis. Clef arrives just as he’s adding hand made pasta to a pot of boiling water, and sits on the couch until Gears calls him into the kitchen. Gears plates them up two big bowl fulls, and a small slice of a crusty baguette.

When Clef comes into the kitchen, he has a small gift bag with him. Gears immediately feels like he’s done something wrong— he didn’t get Clef a gift! The panic must show on his face (his emotions showing on his face is something he’s still getting used to), and Clef grins.

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing special. I just saw it and thought of you.”

Gears silently pulls Clef’s chair out for him, and then sits across. The shrimp scampi is absolutely delectable, topped with toasted breadcrumbs with perfectly cooked shrimp. He’d had such a hard time teaching himself how to make pasta from scratch, but it was more than worth it, the pasta so fresh compared to stuff out of the box— it felt like an epiphany, an epastiphany.

Clef makes an absolutely obscene noise, like he always does when he eats something good. Gears doesn’t know why it’s been making him blush lately.

“Holy shit, this is amazing.”

“I made the pasta from scratch.”

“No shot. Can you teach me how? I still don’t know how to do noodles smaller than lasagna.”

Gears nods, making a mental note to himself to get a pasta maker for Clef, like the one he bought himself. Surely that would be a gift worthy enough to reciprocate whatever Clef bought him— a gift Clef passes him over the table, face a bit red.

“It’s a bit stupid, but—“

Gears opens the bag, and inside is an apron. He tilts his head as he pulls it out. It’s dark blue, and on it are the words “this shit is going to be delicious.” It’s… silly. That’s not the right word— it’s delightful, and he never in a thousand years thought he’d ever wear something like that. With a small smile on his face, he stands and ties on the apron, looking down at himself. He even did a slow little spin, caught up in the novelty of having an apron, indulging in something like this.

“Thank you, I greatly appreciate this.”

Clef looked like he was having an epastiphany of his own, for some reason.

“You look good,” he squeaked.

they are so special. Gears smiling 🥺🥺🥺

[writings-of-my-own]

His place in the world - Loki x Reader

Summary: Shape-shifting was not Y/N's favourite kind of magic. Not when Loki used that to turn into Thor and have her confess her well-kept feelings.

It was beyond frustrating at this point. To yearn for someone for so long and never get anything good out of it. Hopeless dreams and hollow promises kept you awake at night. But there wasn't much you could do. You tried your hardest. You really did. And it didn't matter that much to you at this point anyway. You were getting used to it. To the rejection, to how you would feel the metallic taste of your blood when you used to bite your tongue to keep it all in. To how you always stood in the second place and watched everyone around you get loved. And it was alright, you would tell yourself in your darkest nights. Your time will eventually come and it will sweep you off your feet.

So you waited. And in all of that chaos and heartbreak, you used to hold onto this string of hope for dear life.

But love never came for you so you learned to live with what you were given. You could always find love in other places, platonic love or self-love. And there was nothing wrong with that. You just wished, with your whole heart that for once you would be able to know how it feels to have someone think of you before they go to sleep. To have someone listen to the sappiest love songs thinking about how they would hold your hand. Such stupid little thoughts, such pathetic expectations. Over and over again, that stinging feeling of loneliness. Those thorns stuck in your throat every time you tried to swallow the tears away. So you promised yourself to keep away from this damned feeling. To Hell with love, it will never come for you.

Yet, you messed up again. It was a quiet evening, with almost everyone gone on missions leaving the compound lifeless and forsaken. With the circumstances at hand, you chose to kill your time in the kitchen while waiting for your tea to boil. You used to hate the common areas at the beginning, they brought along unwanted interactions that your anxiety could not handle very well. But you grew into yourself in there. And you allowed other people to see you for who you truly were. In the end, you developed a strange attachment to these places. Especially since Loki came around.

Now it was not an easy task to befriend the God of Mischief, adding your lack of social skills into the mix and Loki's hatred towards Midgardians. And yet, you two somehow clicked. You didn't even know how that came to be. From evenings shared reading next to one another in silence in the common rooms at the beginning, you went to find yourselves in each other’s room in time, talking about nothing and the wide world until the crisp early hours of the morning. It was a curious thing, how well you matched and how quickly you grew to care for one another. And then that blossomed into something more for you. It turned into the ill-fated feeling of love. You tried your very best to hide it, from Loki and the team and even from yourself. You were fortunate enough to have found such an enchanting friend in Loki that you could not sabotage this with your foolish affection.

'I thought I was the only person who couldn't catch any sleep tonight,' you heard Thor's reverberating voice call from behind you and you almost spilt all of the hot water on your hands when you flinched, startled.

'You scared the living shit out of me, Thor,' you instinctively brought your hand up to your chest, while laughing lightly at your lack of perspicacity.

'I shall ask for your pardon, my lady,' Thor said while making a small reverence.

'I shall grant it to you, my dear Sir,' you mimicked his gesture with an amused smile.

You thought he was joking with the official terminology but he kept a straight face so you kept yourself from laughing at him.

You knew Thor was brought up to be a king and that he found these formalities normal etiquette but not in such an extreme manner. So you decided to brush off the amusement.

Moving around you, Thor reached for two mugs and placed them on the counter between the two of you.

'If you do not mind, I would like to join you for your midnight tea.' Giving you his best smile, Thor pulled a chair next to you without waiting for a reply. You would have preferred some time alone to think your situation through but you could not shatter the God's state of eagerness so you obliged. And Thor was not bad company at all, with his ever-present jolly attitude and his loud laugh, he could cheer up even the most stubborn of people.

'What is it that is weighing on your brilliant mind?' the God of Thunder leaned his head between his opened palms and stared at you like a professional therapist who could see right through your facade.

'Nothing, just tired,' you shrugged and played with an old wrapping left on the kitchen table.

You hoped that you dodged the question successfully and even more so, that you were not that obvious to begin with. For as long as you have known yourself, you were terribly talented at hiding your feelings from the outside world and pretending that you have a heart of stone. If any heart that was beating on this Earth was furthest away from that, it was yours though.

‘I won’t pressure you into telling me but sometimes it is good to share the hardships of the world with a friend,’ Thor said, while moving around you to pick the keattle off the stove and fill your mug with the rich, hot tea. He smiled down at your figure and gently squeezed your shoulder as a sign of comfort. He was always considerate of others, a literal ray of sunshine and it made it all more ironic that he was actually the God of Thunder when he was nothing but the Sun personified.

‘It is stupid really and I should much less discuss it with you, it’s just awkward.’

As soon as you said it, Thor’s face immediately changed as if he has seen a ghost. His shoulders slumped and he lost composure of his features for a second too long, a deep frown plastering itself all over his face.

‘Did I say something wrong?’ You wondered why that has visibly upset him. It did not mean that you lacked trust in him.

‘Why would anything be awkward with the two of us? You don’t have feelings for me, right?’ he chuckled while flippind his hair with his head. You noticed the gesture as a sign of nervousness that Loki always does as well. You smiled slightly at that. Even though they were not brothers by blood, no matter how falsely annoyed Loki always pretended to get with Thor, you knew they would die for one another. And the fact that Loki had someone who loved him absolutely, without qualifications or limitations melted your heart.

‘You make it sound like it would be the worst thing in the world,’ you teased him and pushed his shoulder. ‘I am not that bad.’

‘I’d say you are far from bad, ’ he jumped to defend himself way too quickly and that only made it more awkward than it already was. Raising an eyebrow at him, Thor realized how that came off so he started rambling again.

‘I did not mean this one like that either. I just - it’s only that-‘

You cut him off mid sentence, putting your hand up to spare his misery of explaining this whole mess.

‘What I meant by it being weird was that I am in love with someone close to you and spilling my heart out would just be pathetic of me to do and uncomfortable for you to hear.’

‘May I just intrude enough to ask who that is?’ an all-knowing smirk now took the frown’s place and he changed moods faster than you could register.

‘It’s pathetic, truly. You would have a good laugh though.’

He would. How in the Nine Realms could you explain that you were narrow-minded enough to direct your affections towards the person that hated your kind more than anything else? You knew Loki didn’t hate you, even more than that, you knew he considered you a friend. But that didn’t make your cause less helpless. The God of Mischief himself would not stoop that low as to fall for an average Midgardian. You would perish from existence faster than he could blink anyway. Your life span compared to his was seconds.

‘I won’t laugh at you, he cannot be that bad.’

‘Oh, he is not bad at all. He is the most beautiful man I have ever laid eyes on. Not just phisically.’ You felt your cheeks grow a dark shade of red and you brought the back of your palms up to them in order to cool them down a bit. Thor saw that and laughed.

Genuinely, you didn’t know what has gotten into you to start letting so much information slip to Thor but it may just be the late hour. The nights have always given you a sense of comfort when it came to letting your walls down. It felt like the whole world was numbed and you had the chance to let your heart run free with no judgement. Shield after shield, they went down when someone else opened their heart to you. If you would not know better, you would have called that weakness. You used to, when you were younger. But you do know better now.

‘Then go for it, I don’t see what would the issue be,’ the God sounded too eager at the beggining of the sentence so he cut off the enthusiasm as he went on.

‘He is just too astounding for me to ever stand a chance,’ you tried to play off how much pain admitting these things out loud was causing you. The despair that love always brought to the softest of hearts.

‘Too astounding for you? I do not buy a word from this. I think the douche should consider himself lucky you even think of him like that.’

Something in Thor’s tone was questionable though. There was a strange sadness in there. Hidden behing calm eyes and a steady voice, but those were some unsteady hands he was playing with. ‘I believe you are way too lovely to ever have to worry about such trivial matters. The soul that you love holds the power of the Universe.’ He reached across the table to grab your clasped hands into his but he retracted quickly after he realized the gesture. You did not think much of it, you never questioned people’s kindness.

‘You are way too kind,’ you wanted to stop at that but something in his eyes made you want to go on. They held such comfort tonight, you have never found it with Thor before. You really felt like you were talking to your dearest friend.

‘I just don’t think I could ever be enough for someone like him. He has such an intricate heart and I have finally managed to form a bond with him. He does not deserve me ruining his first genuine friendship with my uncalled for feelings.’

‘Feelings of love and affection are never uncalled for. The heart is a terrible betrayer, isn’t it? But you cannot deny it what it wishes for.’ And there it was again, his smile. Thor changed his spirits so much throughout this talk that you decided not to even comment on it. ‘And I bet that with your taste, he is incredibly appealing.’

‘I really should not tell you this but he is. If seduction could take human form, he’d be it.’ The guts you had to just say that to Loki’s brother made you feel filthy. Damn right he is hot, we are talking about Loki Laufeyson, for Norn’s sake.

‘You really should not tell me things like that about my little brother, but I will have it this time just for the fun of it.’ A breathy laugh escaped your lips but it was not longer than a second until you choked on it. Did he just say his ‘little brother’? There was no way in which Thor would have been able to guess it, you did not know a person more oblivious than him to these things. Well, you did. His little brother. But you would not complain about that as it kept your friendship safe.

Thor got up and went to stand behind you in order to gently tap you on your back. Trying to regain composure, you stood up straight again and made it a mission to look as indifferent as ever.

‘I was most definetely not talking about Loki,’ your attempt to lie was so weak you did not even believe yourself.

‘Even a blind man could see the way your face fell when I mentioned him. It’s alright, I mean who could blame you? After all, he is as handsome as legends say.’ The only thing you could really do was nod your head in denial vehementely but that only made Thor laugh. He leaned in extremely close to your ear, placing his hands on the table on either side of you and that made you push yourself closer to the table to gain some space. What was he trying to do? You just told him you were in love with his brother.

‘I bet you think very unholy things about him as well, don-‘ ,you were on the verge of getting up and pushing Thor away, asking what has gotten into him when Thor walked into the kitchen.

Wait, what? Thor walked into the kitchen. You had to do a double-check towards the door and then it all came down upon you like the coldest of storms. You heard the real blonde burst into laughter as he, too, realized what Loki did.

‘You little piece of shit!’ You stood up from your chair so fast that it fell and the fake God of Thunder had to take a step back to avoid it. Turning around, you pushed him into his chest repeatedly with such force that the first time you did it, he stumbled. And then he had the audacity to laugh. To laugh. In your face.

The real Thor was looking at you two with such amusement, you wanted to slap him too.

‘This is such an old trick, but it gets people every time. I’ll leave you two to it.’ Sensing the uncomfortable situation that was about to arise and seeing the look of anger in your eyes, he dissapeared as fast as he came around.

‘How dare you? Turn back into yourself already, you lying prick!’ You pushed his shoulders with both of your hands and as the emerald glow errupted around him, you turned away from Loki cursing him under your breath. This was mortifying to say the least. You wanted to slap him for invading your privacy like that but you also wanted to flee for him and burry yourself 10 feet underground so you would never have to face him ever again.

‘You can say you just missed seeing me, love.’ Without having to even turn around, you could hear the smirk in his bloody annoying voice and you had a sudden urge to cuss him out. Withstanding this felt inhuman to you so you hurried towards the door, wishing to just vanish from view forever. Loki’s cold hand was on your wrist in no time and you forced your way out of his grip but to no avail.

‘Don’t leave now Y/N, I was merely teasing you.’ His voice was still holding a tingle of amusement but it gained an edge of softness that made your knees go weak. You turned to face him.

‘Teasing me? You embarassed me and had fun while doing it.’ An unexpected wave of courage ignited in you and you advanced on him while staring him down. ‘You just laughed into my face after doing that as well.’

‘I did not mean to upset you in any way, my dear.’ His hand moved from your wrist slowly to grasp your own. You retracted it too fast, as if it stinged and Loki’s face completely fell when seeing that.

‘Don’t look at me with pity, Loki. It’s fine that you don’t feel the same way. I much rather preffered you having a laugh at me.’

It was bad enough that he tricked you into confessing your feelings, the last thing you needed was him making it uncomfortable and feeling bad for you. This is what you were trying to avoid at all costs, losing his friendship and you were experiencing just that. Loki reached for your hand again and this time you let him take it. There was not enough courage left in your veins to grant you the luxury of being able to look into his eyes. So you focused your look on your hand in his. Might as well take that feeling in now because after tonight, you were sure as Hell he would not want anything to do with the likes of you. You allowed your heart a few more selfish, pathetic seconds to enjoy his touch.

‘You still don’t see it, do you? Even Thor caught on to me a while ago and we both know he is as oblivious as they come,’ he sqeezed your hand gently and used his thumb to rub small circles on the inside of your wrist. The small movement made your chest errupt with a suffocating feeling. ‘This is not pity in my eyes, my darling. Look again.’ He brought his free hand to your cheek and moved your head slightly so you would finally face him. You wanted to believe what you saw in his eyes. With every broken particle of your heart, you really did, because he was looking at you with so much love and tenderness, you only imagined this look in your most hopeful dreams. A shaky breath escaped your lips while you leaned your face more into the roughness of his palm and you closed your eyes. This was all you have ever wished for and yet, you could not believe it.

‘You don’t believe me.’ That made your eyes snap right open. Loki’s face was closer to yours than before. He was closer to you than you could ever recall, if that could be possible. His scent was driving you insane from this up-close. He could always read you better than anyone else and that had its perks but this time, you wished you could just hide your emotions at the bottom of the sea.

‘You did not tell me what is it that I should believe,’ that made Loki errupt in a string of laughter.

‘You silly girl, why would you doubt for even a second that I have become irrevocably infatuated with you? I have been in love with you for months now, Y/N. I think anyone who has eyes saw this besides my best efforts to not ruin what I have with you. You are all that matters to me.’ He brought his other hand up to cup your face and caress your cheeks with his thumb. His face held the softest look you have ever seen. A beautiful, timid smile was reaching his eyes that were pouring right into your own.

‘Why didn’t you come to me sooner? I have loved you silently for so long, Loki.’

‘How could I ever dream that the Universe would grant me your love? My darling, even tonight, there were moments in our conversation when I thought you were talking about my brother or perhaps some other man. Men who deserve your heart. Not me. How could it ever be me? How could you ever choose me?’ There it was again, that crippling self-doubt that Loki carried in his mind and in his soul. You hated it.

‘Oh, Loki. It’s always been you. I think I chose you on the day that I was born. And if I were to be ripped from this Earth and be reborn somewhere else, I would break the world apart with my bare hands to find you and to keep choosing you. Over and over again. Until the end of time itself. In this lifetime and in any other.’ He closed his eyes for a few seconds at that. A breaking breath made its way out of his lips as you slightly turned your head to kiss the inside of his hand.

‘May I kiss you right now?’ Loki whispered, his voice barely reaching your ears. He was nervous. Now that was a look you never thought you would see on the God of Mischief. And in the dim light of the kitchen, with the moonlight casting a halo around his black, lucious hair, you could have sworn a slight blush was adorning his beautifully structured cheeks and you thought he looked like an angel. You nodded your head and without even realizing, his lips were on your forehead. He placed a deep, long kiss there and you closed your eyes to take this feeling in. Then he went on to gently kiss both of your eyelids, and your cheeks and the tip of your nose. You softly giggled at that one. And then his lips were on yours and there was no turning back. If you would be able to freeze a moment in time and frame it so you could relive it for a hundred lifetimes, it would be this one.

What a funny thing, Loki thought. To live for centuries as an immortal God and yet to find that the only lips who could ever fit against yours are those of a human. You sweet, precious human, how could a heart as pure as your own ever be destined to love the heart of a beast? He could never voice these thoughts in your presence because every single time he did, you would try so vehemently to show him how worthy he was that he sometimes started to believe it. And he could not afford to believe things like that about himself. And yet, there was this warmth and passion in you that he sometimes would find in his own mind. Initially, he thought them to be tricks. Tricks in which his conscience would stop being cruel and in which he started to believe he deserved to be loved. Tricks in which you made him feel like he was enough. He would learn in time that you were right.

‘I am gonna get you back for this though, trickster,’ you said between kisses.

‘Oh, I can’t wait to see it.’

You two pulled back when there seemed to be no more air in the Realms and he rested his forehead on yours.

‘You know, I honestly thought you would have deconspired me when I freaking giggled at your joke about ‘Sense and Sensibility’ that one time. I was mortified,’ Loki said after some time. You laughed out loud at that. Both of you. And for many nights to come, the moon would find the two of you laughing.

[bubbleteaimagines]

The Babysitter

Kuroo Tetsuro Oneshot

NSFW CONTENT

Summary || After months of sexual tension, Kuroo can’t resist fucking his pretty little babysitter on the couch

Pairings || Kuroo Tetsuro x Babysitter!Reader

Warnings || Smut, fingering, blowjobs, age gap (reader is 20) light praise, pet names, unprotected sex, creampie, daddy kink

Authors Note || In celebration of 3k, here is some Dilf!Kuroo that we all need in our lives

It was inevitable, you supposed. The tension between you two was simply too thick, and it had been for months— ever since you had started working for him.

Kuroo was a man that was very busy, and with a two year old daughter and a mother that was absent, it was no surprise that he needed some extra help.

That’s where you came in- fresh faced and right out of college, majoring in (Y/M/N) and needing a job for the summer.

A friend of a friend had been the one to hook you up, Kuroo taking a liking to you almost instantly.

He had to admit, it was your pretty face and bright smile that draw him in at first, but truly, you were most qualified candidate for the job.

Like a ray of sunshine, a breath of fresh air if he’d ever seen one.

Not to mention how his daughter absolutely loved playing with you from the moment she met you, so in Kuroo’s mind it was a no brainer.

That’s how it started— but your story with the older man would end much, much different.

With lingering glances here and there, subtle touches and late nights where you’d both just sit down and talk, it was no surprise to either of you that ended up here— face down on his couch and completely at his mercy.

Truthfully, it wasn’t supposed to end this way. You were only supposed to have a few drinks and then head home for the night, but somehow before Kuroo could even open the wine, the tension between the two of you had reach the boiling point.

Everything between you two had been spilled in an instant, and now you were a moaning mess as Kuroo’s soft lips attached themselves to your clit, biting and sucking softly while his long fingers worked magic on your cunt.

“You like that babygirl?” Nicknames, so many of them, and they sounded so sexy coming from his lips. You damn near came right then and there as he leaned down to whisper in your ear, nibbling a little while his assault on your pussy continued.

“Y-Yes,” You found yourself squeaking out a reply, too wrapped up in pleasure to respond with anything coherent. But alas, Kuroo wasn’t satisfied. He gave you pointed look as he fingers came to a still, a whine leaving your throat at the loss of contact.

“Kuroo!”

“Ah, ah, ah. That’s not my name. You know better,” He said disapprovingly. It only took you a few seconds for your brain to catch up, a spark of realization flowing through you before you uttered out the correct word.

“Daddy.”

“That’s it,” Kuroo gave you a huge smirk and in no time, continued on with brining you to your high. Admittedly, the man was skilled. Despite never having explored your body before, he knew exactly where to touch you, knew exactly the right spots to make you see stars. “Let me hear you baby- let see hear you cum for me.”

“F-Fuck, fuck!” A breathless moan left your lips as you threw your head back, pleasure taking over every sense. You could barely breathe, too focused on the orgasm that came crashing over you, knocking the air out of your lungs and rendering your brain useless.

You came, harder than you ever had before, all over Kuroo’s slender fingers. In fact, your little pussy made a mess all over his expensive couch but at the moment, Kuroo didn’t care.

His cock was growing harder by the minute as he watched you come undone under him, because of him.

He’s never seen anyone look so sexy, already looking fucked out even though he just started.

“You alright there babygirl?” He’s kind enough to ask, leaning down to stroke your cheeks. Wordlessly, you nod, but Kuroo can tell there’s something on your mind. Suddenly, you sit up, and there’s a hopeful look in yours as you crawl over towards him and pout.

“I wanna ride you, daddy,” You tell him, jutting out your lower lip and tugging on his belt. Fuck. How could Kuroo resist you when you looked at him like that? All needy for him, pussy throbbing at just the idea of him fucking you senseless.

“Fuck, you sure, baby?” He checks to make sure you’re serious before making his next move, and sure enough- you nod eagerly and tug at him again, a whine leaving your throat. He was moving too slow, being a gentleman, sure, but right now you wanted him to fuck you like a whore.

“Yes daddy, I’m absolutely sure,” You tell him confidently, and it doesn’t take much after that to get Kuroo to agree. Quickly, his hands replace yours at pulling at his belt, fumbling with the material and cursing himself for tying it too tight. Eventually though, he manages to get the damn thing off and throws it across the room, making a small clatter that neither of you pay attention to.

And suddenly, Kuroo’s sitting down on the couch and letting you do all the work of undressing him, chuckling at how eager you are. You grab at his clothes like your life depends on it— first his shirt, then his pants, and finally his boxers come off and Kuroo has the absolute pleasure of taking in your ‘O’ shaped mouth, jaw dropping at the size of his cock.

“D-Daddy, you’re so big,” You tell him, eyes wide. Way bigger than any of the college boys you’ve been with. Kuroo was hung and is was making your mouth water, desperate for a taste.

“Go on,” He softly encouraged you after seeing the look on your face, snaking his hands behind your head and gripping your hair. “Give it taste. Let me cum all over those pretty little lips babygirl.”

You’re all eager to fulfill his request, blinking innocently before leaning in and darting your tongue out. Kuroo groans at the action, back straining against the couch as you do it once more before finally giving him the real thing.

Your mouth is hot and tight wrapped around him, pure Heaven, Kuroo thinks, as you get to work and start sucking him like a pro.

Your head bobs up and down, taking him as much as you can and using your hands to stroke the parts you can’t reach. You open up your throat and take him deeper- so deep that you start gagging on his cock.

Kuroo moans at the vibrations and despite your teary eyes, he pulls your head further down and stuffs your mouth with his cock.

He moans again as he feels a pit in his stomach, his orgasm bubbling up the more you pleasured him.

You could feel it, too, by the way he was turning into putty under your touch and groaning every time you stroked him. Slowly, you look up to meet his eyes as you tease his tip with your tongue Kuroo suddenly lets go- sinful noises leaving his lips as thick, white ropes of his cum shoot out and down your throat.

Like the good girl you are, you swallow every last drop before finishing off with a ‘pop!’ Kuroo panting heavily as you sit back on your knees.

“Was I good, daddy?” You ask him, Kuroo frantically nods as he pulls you up, positioning you on his lap and just over his cock.

“The best, babygirl. You took me so well,” Kuroo praises you, stroking your hair before smiling. “You think you’re ready to take my cock now, pretty girl?” He asks, and you nod frantically.

“Yes, please Daddy. I want it so bad,” You tell him, gripping his shoulders, and that’s Kuroo needs to hear in order to spread your legs and lower you on his cock.

You moan as his tip begins to push past your tight walls, the breath leaving your lungs the more he fills you up. God, he’s so big, and he knows it too which is why he give you a little time to adjust to his size before slowly fucking into you.

“Fuck!” It’s so painful and delicious at the same time. The way you stretch around him, your little pussy desperately trying to take him. You throw your head back in pleasure when he bottoms out, hands coming up to steady you.

Your movements are slow at first, only rocking your hips and bouncing a little while you ease into a rhythm. However, you’re practically dripping around him and that makes it all the more easier to move, finally being to able warm up to his size.

The pace that you settle on leaves you both a moaning mess, trying to keep it down as to not disturb his daughter that’s sleeping upstairs. You have to bury yourself into the crook of Kuroo’s neck in order to mask your moans, walls clenching around his cock.

He’s so deep that it has you crying out every few seconds, wrapping your body around him to keep yourself ground. Kuroo doesn’t mind though, in fact he pulls you into a deep kiss as you continue to bounce around him, both of you moaning into the other’s mouth.

Somehow, your hands find his messy hair and you tug on it gently as you begin to feel another orgasm rising up. Kuroo can feel the way your walls are clenching around him, and decides to take the lead. Grabbing your hips, he steadies you before thrusting up and matching your pace, pounding into you while you try to hold on for dear life.

It’s no use though, pleasure clouds over you in an instant, your vision going in and out as you moan and whine against his lips. Eventually though, you’re forced to pull away for air and take deep breath, your body shaking. You’re not sure how much longer you can last like this, and Kuroo knows.

He feels the way you’re squirming and whining against him, he loves the way you’re going absolutely feral for his cock. He wants nothing more than to make you cum around him, and so he snakes a hand down and rubs at your clit, teasing you just enough to send you over the edge.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit!” You cry out as your walls clamp down on him, creaming all over Kuroo’s cock. Your eyes roll into the back your head and you hear Kuroo groaning underneath you as you squeeze him like never before. Fuck, you’re so tight that he has no choice but to cum too, a loud moan leaving his lips as the milky white substance paints your walls.

He stuff you full of it, his good little girl milking him dry before he pulls out at watches run down your thighs.

You’re breathing heavily as your eyelids slowly open, coming down from your high to see Kuroo as equally as flustered. You both need a minute to calm down before you speak, slowly moving off of his lap and collapsing on the couch next to him.

“That was...” You don’t even have the words for it. You’ve never been fucked so good before, the man making you cum twice which had never happened with any of your other hook-ups. It seems that Kuroo was feeling the same, a low chuckle escaping his lips as he nodded.

“Yeah,” Kuroo agreed as he leaned back on the couch, sweat dripping down his forehead. Even in his fucked out state though, he still looks incredibly handsome. Black hair sticking to his face, brown eyes wide with blown pupils...man, he really was beautiful.

You found yourself smiling the more you admired him, and Kuroo quickly caught onto your stare.

“What? Is there something on my face?” He asked jokingly, shying away from your gaze. You grinned at the light blush that crossed his cheeks.

“No, no...I just...you’re really handsome, you know that?” You found yourself saying, taking Kuroo by surprise. His brows furrowed together at your words, but he quickly recovered, a sly smirk forming on his face.

“Took you long enough to notice, didn’t it?” He teased, lightly nudging you. You giggled at the action but shook your head.

“No, I’ve always noticed. But honestly I didn’t think-”

“You didn’t think I’d see you that way,” Kuroo finished knowingly. You nodded. “Huh. Well isn’t that something.”

“I just thought...well I dunno. I didn’t think you’d be interested in me. I mean after all I’m just the babysitter, kinda cliche isn’t it?” You said.

Kuroo chuckled. “Yeah...I suppose it is. But this...us...it’s not just a one time thing, is it?”

“Not if you don’t want it to be,” You tell him seriously, turning to face him. “I mean...I’m willing to you know...be more, if that’s what you want.”

“You mean like a date?” Kuroo asked, shocked.

“I’m free on Friday’s,” You tell him shyly. But despite this, Kuroo finds himself smiling and slowly nodding at your proposition.

“Friday yeah? I’d say we’re doing things a little backwards, but I’d love to take you out,” He can’t help the goofy grin that spread across his face, his heart pounding a little at the shy, relived grin on your own.

“Okay...Friday it is then,” You beam, reaching for your lost clothing that’s been scattered on the floor. It was getting late, and you really should be getting home before your roommate starts to worry, but you find yourself not wanting to leave at all. Kuroo had completely intoxicated you, making you want to do nothing but stay in his arms for the rest of the night. Unfortunately though, you both froze as a cry pierced through the house and Kuroo cursed as he frantically got up, and slipped his clothes on

“I’m sorry,” He sent you an apologetic look as Kiana began to cry, having woken up from her sleep. “I hate to leave things like this but...”

“It’s fine,” You shake your head, smiling a little as you gesture upstairs. “She needs you, I understand. I’ll get my time on Friday, yeah?”

“I can’t wait,” Kuroo tells you honestly, stopping momentarily to press a quick kiss on your lips before darting to the stairs. “I’ll call you later this week, okay?”

“I can’t wait,” You repeat his words, grinning at his toned figure before watching him disappear up the stairs. Even from where you were, you could hear Kuroo gently cooing and trying to soothe baby Kiana (named closely after her uncle) and it made your heart absolutely melt.

Shaking your head, you gathered the rest of your stuff and quickly slipped out of the door before you ended up in a puddle due to the cuteness. Already, you had your phone out and rang up your roommate -also your best friend- as you walked to your car, excitement bubbling through your veins.

“Hello?” They answered on the first ring.

You grinned. “Y/F/N, you will never believe what just happened to me...”

[fightxxmexxshiggy]

THREE TO A DORM

SERO x DENKI x fem reader

Tw: cum eating, dirty talk

Word count: 2.3k

You just wanted to return the CD you had borrowed the other day. Never did you think you would walk in on Denki being face fucked like an industrial pocket pussy, by Hanta no less. You stood stock still in the doorway. At one of Denki's choked moans you realized that anyone could walk by and see what you were seeing. Somehow you walked fully into the room and shut the door behind yourself without alerting either man to your presence. They were much more engrossed in this mouth watering act then you had ever seen them while sharing most classes at your college due to your sister departments. 

Denki, a music major with a minor in art history, had pulled Hanta, a history major with a minor dance, over to you after the first class of the day had ended and begged you to hangout with them for lunch that day. You were flattered and more than a little happy to make friends two attractive men with an interest in history like yourself. After that day the three of you had been attached at the hip for the most part. All of which had led you to this moment watching your two best friends getting it on like porn stars in Denki's college dorm room. Not willing to be a one man audience till the very end you cleared your throat and called their names. Instantly they froze and turned their eyes your way. 

You were totally unprepared for what happened next. Instead of pulling away Hanta continued to fuck Denki's throat while staring straight at you. Denki, not to be out done, moaned like a whore and pulled his cock from his shorts to stroke himself, keeping his eye focused on you as best he could. Slowly Hanta's hips picked up speed making the wet sucking noise sound like they were booming through the room. The faster he fucked Denki's throat the fast Denki worked his own cock. You stood there just rubbing your thighs together as the men got bolder and more into this staring game. You wanted so badly to see what they would look like when they came.

You were never one to deny your sexual desires so you didn't. Keeping eye contact as best you could you pulled your shirt up over your head, leaving you in just a sports bra and the shorts you had worn to walk through the hall in. Both men's pupils blew wide with excitement. Hanta let out a small growl at the sight  of your exposed skin. Denki's grip on his cock became harsher and shit strokes faster. Grinning you ran your hands up and down your sides before pulling on the bottom of your bra and tossing it across the room where it comically smacked Hanta in the face before falling to the floor. Surprised by the action he let go of Denki's head, who fell back laughing. 

"Chica sucia do you think it's smart to provoke me? Do you think I won't just bend you over and punish that horny little pussy of yours?"

Hanta's words did nothing but spur you on to wiggling out of your shorts and panties. Deciding to be cheeky you turned your back to them and bent over, making sure to spread your thighs and ass cheeks. You heard a booming growl behind you mix with a choked moan. The next thing you knew was the feeling of hot hands on your hips as you were tossed into the air to land on the bed with a bounce. By the time you adjusted and reopened your eyes Denki was crawling up between your legs with his tongue already hanging out of his mouth. He looked like a lethal predator about to devour his prey without an ounce of mercy. The first contact of his tongue wasn't teasing or tentative, no it was intimidating as his tongue swiped through your folds, the ball of his tongue ring grazing over your clit harshly. Your eyes, which had been squeezed shut from the shock of pleasure flew open when you heard a light buzzing sound. Denki's tongue ring was apparently a vibrating one. Smirking he pulled off his shirt, revealing a toned tight body sporting a six pack. As hot as his muscles were the thing that really got you going and made a gush of liquid dribble out of your hole was the sight of the two belly button rings he had. At the top a little ornament hung in the shape of a storm cloud and at the bottom another one shaped like a lightning bolt pointed toward his golden blonde happy trail. 

"Like what you see spark plug? If you do then take a look at Hanta. I wouldn't be surprised if you came just from taking all that sexy tanned skin in." 

The smirk on his face as he said this made your belly do a crazy little flip. Turning your head you looked over to see that he hadn't been kidding. Hanta was amazingly sexy with clothes on but seeing him now that he had taken his shirt off and stood just out of reach stroking his cock was almost enough to have you cuming, as it was your pussy started to twitch as if trying to find a way to fill itself. Hanta skin was lightly tanned, his nipples were pierced with simple silver bars and his cock oh fuck his cock had two silver bars through the underside just under the head. It was definitely the start of a Jacob's ladder and you were seriously going to ascend if they felt as good as they looked. Hanta stopped stroking his cock as the smirk on his face grew just a little mean. Coming up beside the bed he threaded his hand through Denki's hair and gave a little tug. 

"Denki be a good boy and give our little princesa a good tongue fucking so I can stretch that pussy once it's nice and sloppy."

With a broken whine Denki dove into your pussy like a starving man. His tongue ring caught on the edge of your hole as he slid his tongue inside, the vibration startled a high pitched moan from your throat. You opened your eye's to watch as he continued to eat, suck, and curl his tongue inside of your pussy. Instead you watched, absolutely entranced as Hanta stripped himself of his Jean's and then helped Denki do the same and he refused to take his mouth from your soaked hole. Once they were both naked Hanta spread a bit of lube on his cock before straddling Denki's thighs. While you cried from the sudden orgasm brought on by the sucking and vibrations against your clit, you also watched as he gripped the blonde pussy eaters ass and began to slide his cock through the cheeks, fucking them.

Denki continued to eat you through two more orgasms before you grabbed his hair and came squirting straight into his mouth. The man moaned and drank from you greedily. You guessed that he was happy seeing how he had been denied the cum he was to receive from that earlier face fucking. Seeing that your pussy was now sloppy and pleasantly relaxed Hanta shifted Denki to the side and grabbed your ankles pulling you to him on the bed. Slowly he pushed the head of his thick cock into your still tight hole until it popped in. A sharp gasp was pulled from you as the first of the two bars caught at your rim. Hanta pulled his hips back making it so his cock was just sitting against your opening. Then without warning he slammed forward filing you with more than half of his cock in one go. You screamed, throwing your head back against the pillow as your pussy tried to lock down on the thick cock that was currently splitting you in half. 

"Damn han you're really gonna make her pussy gape huh? Did the little spark plug get your blood boiling by being a brat?"

Denki had moved from beside you to kneel behind Hanta, hooking his chin over his shoulder to watch as he pinched and pulled Hanta's nipples making sure to press against the bars in them as much as possible. As he began to thrust in and out of you trying to work his entire shaft inside he turned his head and kissed the man driving him insane roughly making sure he knew it was a claiming kiss. Not to be out done Denki pulled hard and rolled Hanta's nipples. He gasped and thrust his hips forward bottoming out inside of you. You whined and came at the intense wave of pleasure that washed over you. The drag of warm metal against your walls and the pressure of hard flesh against your cervix had ripped away any control you might have had left. Closing your legs together Hanta shifted them so that both of your ankles rested against his shoulder. He leaned over pressing forward until he could capture your lips in a burning hot kiss. The new angle had you sobbing into the kiss and made your belly shudder. 

Like the little shit he is, Denki reached around and pressed down on your belly where Hanta's cock had made a bulge. Your mouths separated as you both choked on air. The added sensation had flipped a switch and you were now being pounded into the mattress by one of your best friends while the other watched and caressed the both of you. You continued to sob and babble about how full you were and how much you wanted him to cum inside of you. The more you spoke the hard he fucked you, changing angles constantly to drag his bars across every pleasure spot your pussy had. Denki was once again stroking his cock only this time he had taken to playing with his ass as well. Seeing him, seeing Hanta, getting absolutely wrecked by such a huge cock all at once was so overwhelming that you once again came squirting only this time it was all over Hanta's lower stomach and cock. Something about seeing a man's abs covered in your own squirt was way too sexy for you to put into words.

The clenching of your pussy was so strong that it pulled Hanta to orgasm much sooner than he had planned. He came deep inside and continued to cum even as he pulled out. He jerked the last few shots all over your pussy and thighs leaving you as the picture of a well fucked mess. As soon as he moved to the side to catch his breath Denki was there licking up the cum from your thighs and the outside of your pussy. He sat up with his mouth full of cum and kissed you swapping his prize back and forth with you. The kiss was messy and so fucking hot that you felt like you definitely weren't done you. Denki loved nasty sex and he showed you first hand when he thrust his cock inside, bottoming out smoothly due to the cum and how stretched you had been from taking Hanta's cock. Why were your friends cocks so damn big was the only thought in your mind when Denki too reached your cervix. 

"Fuck yes spark plug I love your sloppy pussy so full of Hanta's cum and still covered in your own squirt. I can't wait to add my own cum and eat it out of you. I know all three of us mixed together is gonna taste so good."

He was slamming his cock to the hilt every time and you felt the orgasm build deep inside and slowly swirl in your belly. You were more than into his dirty talk when you had an idea. Using what little energy you had you started to make your pussy walls flutter and massage his cock on every thrust. He went wild pounding fast and hard pushing you both over the edge into bliss. He leaned down, burying his head between your breasts as he added his own cum to the mess inside of you. When he was finally empty he pulled out ready to eat the cum out of your pussy only for Hanta to beat him to it. He scooped out a mouthful of cum and kissed Denki with it swapping it and drooling it out onto their chins. Hanta pulled Denki back by his hair and kissed his throat before gently pushing his head down to your pussy so he could eat his fill. Hand still in his hair he leaned up and kissed you lovingly in between words. 

"Princesa you have no idea how much we've been wanting you. I'm so glad you're such a chica sucia you're so perfect for us it's like you were made to fit us. It's a bit backwards to say this but how about we go on a date for dinner tonight after we get all cleaned up?"

You agreed tiredly making them promise that you could all shower together since you didn't get to touch as much as you were wanting to. He laughed when he realized that you were just as bad as them about spending most of your friendship having dirty little fantasies about them the same as they had been about you. Hanta was leaving claiming hickeys on your neck when you realized that Denki had dozed off with his cheek against your pussy. You giggled as you started to doze yourself happy that when you woke up you would have a nice hot shower with your two best friends that were now your boyfriends. Hanta was snoring quietly into your neck when you finally fell completely asleep. 

[edgarsabandonedrocketship]

Okay, it’s the Monday after the Dreaded Annual Riverdale Musical Episode, which imo makes it a great time for some good, old-fashioned shitposting. The topic: Biblical Plagues (mind you, these are not the Plaques we were promised in the synopsis. I’m sad).

How might these plagues show up in the next episode of Riverdale (which airs this weekend the weekend after next because this show has fantastic scheduling)? Below are some ideas. (Please note that I ran out of steam and didn’t put anything for Boils or Hail. Do feel free to tackle those if you’re so inclined, and/or enhance or disagree with any of the others presented).

1. Water turning to blood—Betty is highly annoyed when bloody water shoots out of Archie's sink while she's trying to wash her trusty beer mug. She initially assumes this is happening because Archie is an idiot and fucked up the plumbing when rebuilding the house. To avoid strangling him in a fit of rage, she leaves to stay with either Veronica or Agent Drake until he fixes it.  2. Frogs—Large amphibians start falling from the sky one morning, causing quite a mess all over town and at least one emergency Town Meeting to be convened. Meanwhile, in his laboratory Dr. Curdle Jr. becomes excited over the frogs’ dubious medicinal qualities and embarks on a campaign to convince people to stick them in the mouths of colicky kids, similar to what happened in the ‘Vale. Finally, a bored and lonely Jughead decides to keep a few of the little guys in the bunker with him as pets.  3, 4, 8. Lice, flies, locusts (yay, it’s a three-fer!)—Similar to her experience in the 'Vale, poor Tabitha discovers that her apartment is infested with bugs. At first (when it's limited to the lice and flies), she blames it on: 1) a visit from FP, and 2) a gross upholstered chair Jughead found on the side of the road and set up in his nook (all of these events happened off-screen, of course). But once the locusts appear, Tabitha begrudgingly admits it's probably a curse and asks Veronica for help (since she's a toxic spider woman and all) because Cheryl and Heather aren’t answering her emails. A short time after arriving, Veronica finds herself both repulsed and disturbingly hungry. Overwhelmed, she flees the scene, yelling that she'll text Tabitha the deets for a good local exterminator. 5. Livestock pestilence—Because there are few farm animals known to be living in Riverdale proper, this one presents in the town's population of wild dogs and sinner cats. Toffee, in a triumphant return to the show, raises the alarm on Alice’s talk show and then promptly alerts the state health department. This results in the town's second known quarantine. Luckily, the unnamed pestilence is rather mild and all affected animals make a full recovery within 48 hours thanks to prompt treatment from Dr. Curdle Jr. and possibly Veronica, Cheryl, and Heather.

6. Boils—???

7. Hail—??? 9. Darkness—Dark!Betty's costume returns, wig and all. Archie catches a glimpse of her wearing it, becomes frightened (and not in a fun way because he’s boring), and flees the scene. While night-jogging shirtless down the street, he's pelted by falling frogs before taking shelter at Thornhill, where Cheryl and Heather fatten him up with Sin Pie. Ominous music plays in the background. 10. The killing of firstborns—La Llorona arrives in Riverdale for this purpose. Jughead, Betty, and Veronica are safe. Baby Anthony, however, is not and Toni and Fangs have to hide him somewhere (somehow, it never occurs to them to simply leave town). Archie is also believed to be in danger, since his invulnerability has yet to be tested against a homicidal ghost. Fortunately, we learn he has half-siblings living with the Mothman-Blossom cult in the woods, because Mary Andrews is a secret Blossom. Unfortunately, this revelation causes Archie to have an existential crisis, which means we’re treated to some rather maudlin guitar strumming and crooning. Charles is ultimately the one to take La Llorona down when his handy ghost-buster superpower manifests while the two are locked in hand-to-hand combat. 

[ellsbclls]

you write hurt/comfort so beautifully, it makes me want to have tom comfort me like that ): do u think you could write something where he's taking care of you after a long day at work?? and if it's a little nsfw i wouldn't mind but u dont have to do anything ur not comfortable with. again L O V E ur work!!

thank you so much 🥺 i guess i just try to portray a type of love i think everyone deserves! but also thank you for giving me this idea because my mind went rampant. i also don’t know why the reader is a musician, but just roll with it i guess idk what happened there??? 

i hope this tickles your fancy! nsfw, so extended warnings will be under the cut! please do not interact if you're a minor!!

extended warnings: cue fingering, and some messy, needy sex in the bathtub 🛁✨

The steam rising from the bathtub makes light work of your weary muscles, menthol vapors kissing up your spine, soothing the knots scattered across the length of your back. You were in dire need of this, after the plight of a day you’d endured. A couple of hours in the studio had quickly spiraled into a six hour-session, with nothing to show for it but a lousy sixteen measures of brass ensembles — and by the good grace of your talent and patience, the artist has requested you drop in for their session again.

The thought makes you want to drown.

Instead, you opt to curl into yourself, softly pressing your cheek into your knee, watching the spindles of warmth waft up from your well earned bubble bath. In retrospect, the weight of your day didn’t fall solely on this new client — if you’re being honest, they actually had a lot of potential. You wouldn’t mind having your name tethered to a couple of their hits — but Tom had just returned home from a three month long shoot, and you’ve only been graced the luxury of his presence for less than 24 hours. Any time that isn’t being spent with him feels blasphemous, but since he has yet to return from his unknown whereabouts, you seized the opportunity to flush out as much irritability as possible before he returned.

You didn’t know just how tired you were until you were woken up.

A half an hour passes before you’re tousled from your dreamless slumber by a docile touch, familiar digits scaling the curve of your spine before they take a detour at the nape of your neck, carefully parting stray strands of hair to either side of your frame.

“Tom?” You hum, dulcet tones wafting through the steam akin to a dream as it ebbs from the rim of your subconscious.

“Yes, darling?” He muses, entranced by the frothy remnants of your bath soak as he dips his fingertips into the water.

“I missed you today.” You melt into his touch, allowing your head to fall to the side and survey his attire. His hair is all tousled, chestnut locks sprouting from the bottom of his backwards strewn baseball cap, and those honey-dipped hues you adore so much are creased with concern. You want nothing more than to soothe them away with the pad of your thumb, and so you indulge yourself, reaching over the edge of the tub as you continue to ramble. “I started the day already praying for it to be over with, and somehow, every single inconvenience fathomable decided to fall onto my lap. I mean — who the fuck needs seven different french horn tracks in an overture? A real band barely needs one.” Tom’s nodding along to your ramblings, but you both know that he doesn’t fully under the lengths of your frustration — just as you’ll never truly understand the inner workings of his own career. “The only thing keeping me together was the thought of coming home to you.”

“I’m so sorry, my love,” He coos, and continues to caress your back, working out all of the knots that the steam couldn’t relieve. “If it’s any consolation, I was only running late because I had to stop and buy some pancetta on the way home.”

“Don’t apologize. I assumed you would be back since all your stuff is still here.” You tease, mirroring his bemused smile, letting his world seep into your slowly booting brain. “Pancetta…” Not many people knew this, not even Tom before his first attempt, but the boy could whip up a mean bowl of pasta. You remember floundering across the bed the night before, identical to a little kid throwing a tantrum, moaning over just how badly you were craving carbonara. Silly of you to think that he’d take your melodramatic request in stride. “Are you-“

His enamored gaze is answer enough, but he pairs it with a chaste kiss to your forehead that has you nuzzling into his touch. “Only the best for my lil’ lady.”

You show a mere fraction of your appreciation with a swift, flurry of kisses over his cheekbones, pulling him closer by the downy bundles of his hoodie. Lovedrunk giggles and contented sighs bounce off the tiles before you’re both submerged in a comfortable silence, one that leaves the both of you free to shamelessly examine the other, one clad in their comfy, weatherworn disguise while the other dawns nothing but an enchanted smile. Even with the disparity between your attire, you both end up with flushed cheeks and dopey grins.

Hours, days, years seem to press on until you break the silence with a silly question, one that you ask in hopes of hearing his gentle, candied voice once more — or even better, his laugh. “What would you do if I was as big as a thumbtack? Would you still love me?” You query, a childlike sense of wonderment tinting your sugar-coated sigh.

He takes a second to ponder your questions, taking it into far more consideration than you had in bringing it to fruition. You can’t stifle the tiny puff of air that leaves your lips, the semblance of a chuckle, and Tom, with his wild brow and theatrical ways, whips his head in your direction, sending you a cautionary glare. “I suppose I would…” He starts, only to tap his finger against his bottom lip, drawing the suspense to its boiling point by the time you shove his forearm. “But then again, it doesn’t matter what size you are, there’s no limit to how much I love you.”

“Hmm,” you manage to vocalize. Your heart is now a star, an incandescent ball of fire caged beneath your ribs, and if he hasn’t gathered it by now, then he can bask in the warmth of your smile and know that for him, for him it is the sun.

You have to admit that you got ahead of yourself. One moment, you were binding your lips in a bruising, indulgent union, urging him to bask in the lovelorn rays of light he summoned, but only managing to pull him into the bathtub, fully clothed and unsuspecting. What was once your lukewarm oasis is suddenly a swirling cauldron of spearmint, teatree, and now unmistakable notes of him, sloshing against the edge of the tub as his frame struggles against the latent tide. There’s bound to be one hell of a mess waiting on the bathroom floor, but now that he’s settled in your grasp, you see no reason to fret just yet.

“Y/N.” His voice is deadpan, which can mean one of two things — he’s either overwhelmed with joy, or exhibiting a great deal of restraint in not drowning you right then and there. You choose to cancel out the latter, and offer the best attempt at innocence your babydoll eyes could muster, peering at him through your lashes with a teeth-rotting gleam.

“What?” You ask simply. His eye starts to twitch, and you only double down on your facade. “I just wanted to be closer to you.” Wading through the newly shallow body of water, half of its contents now dispersed across the tile floor, you make light work of his soggy hoodie, sloughing it over his head as he grumbles beneath it, giggling when it catches against that razor-sharp jawline of his.

“Well, you are very close now.” You notice how his voice drops down an octave, and you’re embarrassed to admit just how quickly the coil in your stomach tightens at the sound of it, how it already aches to be pulled taut. 

Tom seems unsuspecting enough when he captures your lips once again, his brims as delicate as baby’s breath against your own, tentative as they glide in a sultry dance. He doesn’t need to coax a confession out of you, the truth is already there, nestled in your urgent, needy pressure, in the whimpers threatening to spill into his lips. He’ll indulge in this little game for a moment longer — where you pretend that you aren’t desperate for his touch, and he pretends that he isn’t just as desperate to provide it — but once you fumble into his lap, clumsily grasping for more, and more, and even more of him, his resolve begins to crumble.

“I need you.” you whisper into the hollow of his mouth, golden-tongued and virtually earnest, coaxing a trembling sigh from the back of his throat.

He hums back, contented, basking in the intoxicating warmth of your silhouette, tracing the curve of your breasts with his knuckles. “Long day, my love?”

“Mhmm,” You demonstrate your point with a wistful sigh,  enveloping his great hands with your smaller ones, coating them in languid kisses until there was no skin left untouched.

You’re just too fucking cute, he muses. He can never say no to you, not even in jest.

Two of his slender digits roam the valley of your stomach, knuckles ghosting over your navel in their listless descent before they venture between your thighs, surveying just how badly you really need him. He dips his middle finger between your folds, tender and slick with your arousal, and emits a husky groan as he traces a steady line between your entrance and the spot just below your clit, ghosting your little bundle of nerves with each taunting caress. “You’re already soaked, my love. This all for me?” He coos, nudging your jaw with the tip of his nose, pressing a wet, open mouthed kiss against the column of your neck.

“All for you,” You sigh, digging your nails into the broad planes of his shoulder. “Please, Tom, please touch me.”

He finally spares you, thumb sloppily circling your clit as he plunges two digits into your opening, welcoming the lithe intrusion with a warm, velvety embrace. You slump into his embrace, nipples straining hard against the soaked fabric of his t-shirt, and raggedly whimper as he starts to work you open. The reminder of your nude form plastered against his clothes, albeit soaking wet, summons another pool of wetness to your core. You’re flooded with thoughts of delectable anguish — of denim kissing your hips, dragging against your bundle of nerves, as he ravages your bare little cunt, proving that you’re so desperate for his cock that you can barely wait for him to undress.

“Is this all you needed, baby? My fingers? You wanted me to stretch this pretty little cunt out?” He can’t stop the filthy words tumbling from his lips, especially not when your tiny mewls of pleasure are flooding his ears — you’re just so soft and pliant under his touch, so eager to be filled to the brim, it’s intoxicating to know that you’ll take anything he has to offer you. “I’ve got you, baby. I’m gonna give you everything you need. Gonna have you spilling all over my fingers and then — fuck! — then i’m gonna fill you up with my cock. How does that sound?

“Y-yeah,” You’re rutting against his palm at this point, grinding down to meet each thrust, to feel impossibly closer, fuller, ambling toward an orgasm that is already barreling toward you. As he finds a new angle, the pads of his fingers nudge against your g-spot, and the heel of his hand careens over your clit with such a delicious pressure that your thighs begin to quake. “‘M so close.” You whine, prompting him to punctuate each thrust with a curl of his fingers, dragging your orgasm from the pit of your stomach.

“Then let go, baby. Let go for me.” You need no further persuasion, your eyes squeezing shut as you teeter off the edge, with nothing but a raspy, desperate string of obscenities, clawing at the slope of his shoulders, and bathing his hand in sultry waves of nectar as it spills from your weepy little hole. His fingers are trapped between your fluttering walls, working you through your climax with nimble, tentative thrusts, stretching each wave of pleasure out until you’re trembling over little ripples.

“That’s it, that’s my girl.” You feel so small beneath his gaze, teeming with endless pools of adoration, like you’re a freshwater clearing and he’s parched. It nearly distracts you from his fingers as they slip from your opening, but each receding wave of bliss is tethered to him, so you groan at the loss of contact. Your walls flutter hopelessly around nothing, chasing the delicious stretch of his digits in their absence, but you’re instantly qualmed by the sound of his zipper being pulled down, no doubt freeing himself from the waterlogged confines of his jeans.

“Can I?” You sink your hands into what little water still remains in the tub, hooking your fingers through the belt loops of his jeans, but he swats your shaky hands away, adamantly shaking his head as a small frown of confusion forms between your brows. “You don’t wanna take ‘em off?”

“This is about you, my love.” He whispers, his free hand smoothing over the small of your back, stroking the patch of dew-ridden skin with his thumb. “And right now, all I wanna do is keep my promise.”

“You’re so good to me,” You whisper just above his lips, leaning back into his touch, peering between your bodies to survey his ministrations. You’re still a bit dazed from your first, earth-shattering orgasm, but the prospect of another has you buzzing with excitement, and Tom knows that look well enough to speed up his course of action.

Pearly veneers sink into the swell of your bottom lip at the mere sight — his cock is beyond compare. Even as its impatiently pulled through the opening of his jeans, it’s put on a mouth-watering display as he leisurely pumps himself, smearing tiny pearls of precum across his flushed, leaky tip with each upstroke. He’s far too enticing, far too pretty with his rosy cheeked, droopy-eyed charm, to resist, and you’re quick to replace his hand with your own, curling your fingers around the base and mimicking a couple teasing pumps before guiding him to your entrance.

Tom spreads his legs a little wider to accommodate you, the sensation of wet denim rubbing against your thighs, knocking your legs farther apart, causes a soft whimper to fall from your lips. It doesn’t take long for you to align the head of his cock with your entrance, teasing him with a couple of lascivious drags through your folds before you sink onto his length, reigniting the remnants of your last orgasm as inch after delicious inch prods your tender walls apart. By the time he bottoms out, you’re nothing but a trembling pile of limbs, and his lips seek out your own just to muffle your staggered breaths with a burning kiss.

You allow yourself a couple of seconds to adjust — no matter how or which way you take him, he still pushes up every crevice of your insides, demanding every square inch of your velvety heat. A wild flurry of crimson blossoms across the high planes of your cheeks as Tom nuzzles his forehead against your own, brushing his nose against yours, coaxing a melodious string of giggles from your chest while you scrunch up your nose. He presses a chaste kiss to the corner of your lips and smiles against the spot. “You look so pretty like this, my love. With that gorgeous smile of yours, and that pretty little pussy squeezing my cock.” You feel like you’ve got whiplash, trying to come to terms with how obscene he can be under such tender movements. “Just wanna turn you over and bury myself inside. See how tight you feel when you’re folded in half.” His hands reach down to rub gentle, circular motions into the small of your back, and you can’t help but pulse around him at the juxtaposition.

Once the uncomfortable stretch of his girth melts into pleasure, you finally start to work yourself over his length, and you swear you can feel every gorgeous ridge and vein of his cock as you rise up to the tip, only to plunge back down with a impish yelp, setting a clumsy, needy pace that certainly gets the job done. You don’t really find your rhythm until Tom helps you out, sinking his fingers into the supple curve of your ass, orchestrating a hard, punishing pace as he drives up into your sopping cunt, meeting you in the middle with each thrust.

All at once, the bathroom is washed in a crude symphony, the combination of your heavy panting and slapping skin intermingles with the shallow splash of water as it laps against the edge of the tub, punctuating the sinful drag of his length, and how the tip pounds against your furthest wall as you impale yourself onto him. You can feel another orgasm start to build, and since Tom has made it his solemn vow to not only study, but master, every little, scrumptious detail of your body, he senses it as well. 

“You got another one for me?” He asks between labored pants. His own orgasm is starting to peak over the horizon, following in the blazing trail you’ve set, you can tell by the way a thin sheen of sweat starts to build against his hairline, and his brows almost meet in the middle, as if the feeling of your pussy pulsing around his cock is unfathomable. He uses the grip he has on your waist to take control, using one hand to scale up the breadth of your back, and as his palms leave a blistering trail up, up, up your sides, he pulls you flush against his chest, attempting to plant his feet against the floor of the bathtub, 

He needs the leverage to piston his hips up into your own, to pound into your greedy hole at an unyielding pace — to keep his promise — and as you start to feel the tell tale edge of your climax cresting over your weary frame, you spoil his shoulder with sweeping, butterfly kisses and flood his mind with sweet, sweet nothings, luring him to the brink with the same dulcet tones you know drive him wild.

His hips stutter into your own, and before the words can even exit your lips, you’re dragged to the edge of bliss with a couple of rough, uncompromising thrusts that have you wildly spasming around his length. He joins you almost immediately, throbbing against your sensitive walls as he fills you to the brim, driving the mixture of your arousal further into you as he fucks you through your orgasm. 

Once he pulls out, he’s quick to wrap you up in a soothing embrace, planting kisses over every acre of skin he can get his lips on, but you’re too focused on the trail of cum leaking down your thighs to really indulge him, curiosity getting the better of you as you gently weave your arm between your bodies and collect the wetness on your thighs. You swear you can feel the rumble of his chest once you pop your fingers into your mouth, humming around the sodden digits, making a spectacle out of the addicting elixir pooling on your tongue, but his glimmer of reinvigorated stamina is put to rest by the sight of your drowsy, half-lidded stare.

“Why don’t we get you dried off? Then I can start dinner.” He hums against your cheek, punctuating his suggestion with yet another chaste kiss. It’s genuinely like he can’t get enough, and neither can you as you sleepily nod.

“Will you wake me up when it’s ready?” You sigh, teetering on the edge of slumber once more.

“Of course, my love.”

[1kook]

youtube & use lube

part 7 of my netflix and chill collection!

summary: You can’t believe this is Jungkook’s preferred sick day treatment; YouTube, cuddles, and an ugly amount of lube.  warnings: smut in the forms of nipple play, handjobs, spit kink, face riding, unprotected, flavored warming lube, riding, praise kink, soft femdom, missionary bc his eyes are pretty, tit sucking, more jk has an impreg kink, oh and this is all subby kook rating: mature (18+) miscellaneous: domesticity baby!! fluff, soft scenes /.\, jk is sick:((, doyeon is A Doctor, yn sees an opportunity and she grabs it, surprise ending <3  word count: 8.7k  

notes: finally…. 7 parts later and we get ~✨💓sub kook💓✨~ this was honestly my fave to write I think because I was obSESSEDDD with his softness and yn leading hehe /.\ also yeah we time jumped 6 months bc uhmmm 😎 story progression also here’s [ THE KOOK U SHOULD IMAGINE FOR THIS 😡 ] also if see a typo ummm no u didn't .

let me know what u think! a simple ask goes a long way <3

Despite what past experiences may dictate, Jungkook’s body is actually quite resilient. It’s due in part to his obnoxiously healthy lifestyle; avocado breakfasts, gym rat tendencies, and a normal person’s circadian rhythm (you could never relate). He lives the life health professionals can only dream of writing down in their notes, so careful of his well-being that it’s almost annoying. Of all the habits you help him break, the rituals he sometimes forgets, his health is never one and it’s actually one he ropes you into quite often. The ladder accident last summer had truly been an odd occurrence, and for a while after, you doubt anything else will ever happen to him. 

And then winter comes. 

Now, Jungkook, with all his superior bodily systems and strict lifestyle, is still not immune to the common cold. So when he comes down with a stuffy nose, a saggy frame, you’re not too surprised. It’s right after New Year’s, which you had spent it at one of Taehyung’s classic overcrowded parties this year, shivering on a rooftop as he kissed you silly under the fireworks, so one of you was bound to get sick. And you were sick for Halloween, so it’s only the universe’s way of leveling the playing field when he gets sick after New Years. 

What does surprise you is when he doesn’t bounce back right away. Usually, Jungkook’s high caliber immune system has him in tip top shape about two days later. But this time around, it takes a while. In fact, it takes longer than usual, and you don’t realize until you’re coming over on a Friday night, met with an unusual silence at the Jeon household. 

As you slowly grew accustomed to your life out of school, you and Jungkook accepted that you didn’t really have time to be glued to each other’s hips at all hours of the day. It was only natural that sometimes you had too much work, were too tired, or were just not in the mood to visit each other. That was fine, and you’ve come to quite appreciate this new routine, because it only made your heart flutter faster than before when you did see him next. You don’t have to see each other everyday, and that was fine; it was part of growing up together (and growing old together, your sappy heart says).

But today, this separation ends up being your downfall. Jungkook first showed signs of a cold on Monday, and now it was Friday and you hadn’t heard from him in two days. You’re beginning to suspect he’s come down with something severe— maybe that strain of the flu that he forgot to get vaccinated for this year —or even worse, dead.

Luckily, Jungkook isn’t dead, just sadly slumped across the end of his bed, nose a bright red and hair a tangled mess. “Oh no,” you frown, but there’s not an ounce of distress in your voice, because boy, was he cute. 

He groans at the sight of you. “Don’t look at me,” he whimpers, hands fisting the sheets. “I’m ugly.”

You bite down on a smile, hang your bag on the hook behind his bedroom door. He’s barely making an effort to stay on the bed, clinging to the side with such powerless hands. “Absolutely hideous,” you play along, arms wrapping around his middle. Registering your touch, your support, he immediately releases what little grip he had and almost sends the two of you tumbling to the ground. “My poor baby,” you croon, manhandling him back into the comfort of his sheets. 

Perhaps the reason you believed Jungkook was so immune was because, well, he never let you see him sick. 

He was picky about his presentation to the world, always wanting to show his best side. And well, you were in that world. Hell, you were probably the main person he wanted to show off for (not to toot your own horn), so he avidly avoided showing you his unpleasant sides. Even in college, when you had been practically stuck to his side, he had always made a big deal of pushing you away when he was sick, calling off dates and hiding away at his house. 

You sort of knew why. Namjoon had told you once that Jungkook when drunk was the equivalent of a needy, whiny baby. You could attest to that because wine drunk Jungkook and vodka drunk Jungkook were quite the experiences to haul home. And apparently Jungkook when sick was more or less the same. He was all doe eyes and pouty lips, magnified by his weakened appearance. He was adorable. 

He’s wearing a lot of layers, but it’s still winter so you don’t think too much of it. Dark long sleeve sweatshirt, the front tucked into some cute brown and black checkered pants. You see it as just some casual at home attire until you reach for his covers, hand brushing his hair from his face, only to find it ice cold. 

“Oh, you’re freezing, honey,” you frown, for real this time. Jungkook whimpers, snuggles into the sheets you pull up to his chin. He dozes off soon after, pouty lips chapped to hell and back. You reach for your chapstick, deciding to get one good use of it on your own lips before contaminating it with Jungkook’s sick germs. Even in his sleep he’s a good boy, rolling his lips together after you’ve applied it on him. 

With Jungkook knocked out, you pad back downstairs and into his kitchen. You can more or less infer that he’s come down with something a little more intense than a cold. His skin was cold, and his nose was runny, but, oddly enough, he wasn’t sweating. You decide to consult a professional. 

“The little gremlin is sick?” Doyeon repeats, a comforting buzz in your ear as you get to work making Jungkook your famous Get Better Soon Soup, idly waiting for the water to boil over. You confirm. Doyeon, legend that she was, accidentally sat an entire physiology class one semester (and passed), so this is the closest you’ll get to a doctor friend. “Hm,” she says, “what’re his symptoms?”

You press your phone between your ear and shoulder, clattering around Jungkook’s kitchen for ingredients. “Runny nose and colder than your ass that one time you passed out in the snow,” you supply. “Oh, but not sweating.”

Doyeon hums over the line, tells you to give her a second, and disappears. “WebMD is saying fever, but you said he’s not sweating?” You confirm again. “Throw him in front of the heater and make him sweat then. He has to burn it out somehow.”

“I can’t do that,” you sigh, pausing when you hear some vague sound from around the house. It’s not Jungkook, so you return to your call. Anyway, Jungkook’s house is, like, perfect. Always warm when need be and always cold as well. You don’t even think he knows what a space heater is. “He’s sick sick. Like, can barely hold himself up sick.” 

She scoffs. “And I care why?” You huff, go to scold her for their weird rivalry, but then she’s moving on. “Babe, just give him some pain relief and call it a day.”

“Fine,” you mumble. “Wait, can you look something else up for me?”

Anyway, Jungkook probably has a fever, except it’s weird because he’s not sweating it out. He wakes up about an hour later, but this time he’s more self aware. He eats his soup and takes the medicine you offer him. Afterwards, he can’t go back to sleep so he huffily asks for his iPad and begins watching some weirdly specific YouTube videos you don’t think you’ve ever seen him watch before. 

You have absolutely no idea what he’s watching, some niche videos of guys in Singapore turning random forest areas into underwater pools? You don’t know. Jungkook seems interested, though, for all of ten minutes until he falls asleep again. 

He’s still cold, poor baby, nose like an ice cube that just won’t melt. You find a heating pad you left over in his closet and place it on his chest. Your thought process is that if his heart, the source of all energy, was warm, then certainly the rest of him will warm up soon enough. Yeah, you missed the last three seasons of Grey’s Anatomy; you were a little rusty. 

So with Jungkook fast asleep and nothing else to do, you assume the age-old, patriarchal task of cleaning around the house. 

His house was usually neat and tidy, mostly as a result of Jungkook’s virgo manifestations, but even those varied. His living room tended to be spotless, but his personal office was a different story. But with him having been out of it this past week, the entire house is littered in tiny garbage that would make Normal Jungkook burst a blood vessel.

There’s a pile of Reese’s wrappers in the downstairs bathroom, on the sink next to his toothbrush. The sight makes you sad, because your poor boy must have been struggling if he was eating candy in the bathroom, where he… uses the bathroom. And then that thought makes you even sadder, thinking back to all the times he was sick and alone, fending for himself out of his weird embarrassment of showing normal body functions. 

You had thought he was cute when you first arrived— he still was —but he was also so weak and frail, bulky muscles rendered useless by whatever bacteria was attacking his body, making him sleepy and in pain for god knows how long. With a resolute nod, you sweep all the wrappers into the trash and decide to do your very best at helping Jungkook get through this sickness and bounce back better than ever. 

Before leaving his bathroom, you ransack his cabinets, deciding he probably keeps most of his antibiotics here. It’s a spot you never really snoop around, because Jungkook always keeps a fully stocked basket in his closet filled with your typical necessities— from conditioner to pads to nail polish remover, he kept it all. And furthermore, you always tended to use his upstairs bathroom anyway, so that’s where your toothbrush and the like were kept. There was really no need for you to ever look through the downstairs bathroom’s cabinet. So the downstairs bathroom cabinet is practically the other side of the world to you, a culture shock so strong it has you plopping down in front of it to thoroughly sift through. 

He’s got a disgusting amount of hair products, none of which you actually think you’ve ever seen him use, and a maniacal amount of tooth stuff. Now, you were quite possibly the biggest proponent for dental care, but this was ridiculous. Four packs of floss on reserve, and about three cases of those dental picks. A whole family pack of toothbrushes and one of those cute little cases for his retainer you’ve seen a few times. 

So overwhelmed with his ungodly stash of dental hygiene utilities, you almost miss the pretty pink tube hidden in the very back corner. 

You’re thinking it’s some makeup primer you left before that he mistook for moisturizer, probably dumped it with all his other things, only to find out you are very, very wrong. 

Sensation Warming Lubricant: NOW! in strawberry flavor 

You blink. 

Lubricant? Jungkook was using lubricant? Strawberry, sensation warming lubricant?!

Somewhere in your mind you had convinced yourself that Jungkook was a simple man, a lotion at his bedside drawer type of man. He had you for the last one and half year, and you two fucked like rabbits, so you hardly doubt he was jacking it alone these days. And even if he was, why on earth was he so specific about the type of lube he uses?

You turn the bottle around, eyes scanning for an expiration date or something of the like, only to find that the copyright symbol was under this current year. The year that had just started, like, two weeks ago. 

Oh, so this was new. 

You turn it over, eyes scanning over the warnings like it’ll tell you something about your boyfriend you don’t know yet, some other hidden secret that he’s maybe held from you. Granted, owning lube isn’t really a big deal, but the fact he’s got it so hidden away (not really, it was casually sitting beside his sunscreen) was definitely something to zero in on. 

Strawberry flavored, you read again, warming, stimulating, edible? Forget his weirdly extensive floss collection, you had stumbled upon something amazing in here, the goddamn Hope Diamond among snooping girlfriend finds. You’ll confront him about this later, you decide, when he’s back to normal and not whiningly calling your name from upstairs. You pocket it for now, tucking it into your cardigan pockets for said later interrogation, and bound up the stairs to him again. 

He’s sitting up in bed like a very angry and confused toddler, brows furrowed sharply like he’s mad. Actually, he just can’t see, the light from the hallway blinding him, so you shut the door and flick on his bedside lamp for him instead. “Hi, honey,” you coo, sitting down on the edge beside him. He’s still waking up, leaning a little too heavily into your palm when you cup his face. “How’re you feeling?”

“Terrible,” he rasps out, but he’s definitely looking better than before. You don’t know if you imagine it, but there’s this slowly accumulating sweat that forms along the base of his neck. “Please don’t leave again,” he says softly, droopy eyes glassy. 

Something shoots straight to your heart— an arrow from Cupid himself! —that makes you stroke his cheek tenderly until his eyelids are fluttering shut again. “I won’t,” you promise, feeling around for his iPad. He doesn’t seem like he’ll fall back asleep, sitting up with more strength than he had that morning. 

You end up climbing behind him, let him be the little spoon you know he secretly craves to be, as he watches his weird YouTube videos again. His body is so warm against yours, but his skin is still so cold. If what Doyeon had said was true, it’s no wonder he’s kept the same sickness all week. The rhythmic sound of machetes hacking at the earth and water trickling through bamboo pipes grows on you, makes you fall into a sense of comfort behind him, arms tracing circles over his chest. 

It’s a mindless habit, one you actually do a lot. Most of the time, it’s when he’s at his desk and stressed out, your masseuse hands making an appearance to soothe the muscles in his neck and chest from being hunched over for so long. Even now, your fingers unconsciously press into the fabric over his pecks, tickle up his sternum until he’s melting against you. 

It takes one quiet whimper from him to let you know exactly how he’s feeling. “Everything alright?” you inquire, halting your movements over his chest. Jungkook nods shakily, head lolling forward. The nape of his neck calls to you, whispers for a kiss that you tenderly bestow upon it. It makes Jungkook jolt, another pretty sound leaving his lips at the press of your warm lips against his sensitive neck. 

“No more,” he mumbles, rolls his head around until it’s resting against your shoulder, giving you a clear view down his chest. You slide your hands back up from where they’d gone stiff just around his ribs, let them palm over his pecs. Jungkook’s hips buck, a minuscule movement you almost miss. 

His heart thunders like the inside of a horse race track beneath your palm, breath picking up just from the simple motion of your hands on his chest. It’s on the fourth circle around his pecs that you feel your pinky briefly catch on something. “Poor thing,” you sigh, running the pad of your pointer finger over the hardened nipple that peaks beneath his sweatshirt. “Is this what was bothering you?” 

A shaky exhale in response, hands tightly clutching at his iPad and beloved YouTube video genre. “N-No,” he denies, but you chance a peak at his face, where his lips are bitten a rosy pink color, its slightly muted sister rushing down his cheeks, over his neck. 

You press the lightest of kisses to the side of his neck, and he shivers. “Need me to take care of you?” you purr, trail your hands down his chest towards where the hem of his sweater sits. You run your finger over it twice, before moving to slip your hand beneath. Your fingers brush along his abs, contracted tightly at your touch, and slowly make their way back up his chest. 

Fingers find his pebbled nipples, a gasp escaping his lips. “Does this feel good?” you ask softly, pinching the swollen nubs between your fingers. Jungkook groans, body arching just the slightest as you rub his nipples, tug and twist them until he’s a whining mess. “Need you to tell me, honey,” you encourage, lips ghosting over his neck. 

The second kiss has him flinching as well, head rapidly turning the other way as you slowly kiss over his neck. “___, please,” he pants, knuckles pale on the sides of the iPad. You're afraid it’ll snap, if not from his grip then from the way he pushes at it, like he’s breaking a wooden board over his knee. It’s still on YouTube, playing another video from the same collection, volume competing with Jungkook’s tiny sounds. 

Pressing your lips to his neck, you kiss along it slowly, reveling in the lovely noises that Jungkook produces the more you rub his nipples, lower body squirming animatedly before you. Your kisses grow wet for a short period, suck purple blossoms across his skin until Jungkook is quivering like a leaf. “E-Enough,” he begs, voice a wobbly mess that is so light and airy. 

You grin, giving his rockhard nipples one last flick before sliding your hands down his chest, over his stomach to toy with the elastic of his pants. He inhales sharply, iPad nearly snapped in half mid video. Ready to play with him some more (and slightly afraid for the future of his tablet), you reach out a hand to move it away, set it off to the side. 

But Jungkook doesn’t release it. In fact, he clings to the damn piece of tech tighter than before. “Hmm?” you murmur, bottom lip brushing against his neck once more. “Not letting go, sweetheart?” 

He shakes his head, soft crown of curls bouncing from the movement. “Can’t, can’t,” he shivers. His knees shift back and forth, move between being casually spread and flush together. Like he’s hiding something, using the iPad and the videos on screen as cover. You tug at his wrist and Jungkook shakes his head again. 

You change tactics, hand sliding around his wrist instead. The other travels up, up, up, comes curling around the base of his neck. Jungkook whimpers, tilts his head back for you cutely at the first brush of your fingers against his Adam’s apple. “Thought you were my good boy?” you ask, eyes zeroed in on the tremble of his lower lip. 

Jungkook exhales shakily, a rather torn expression crossing his features. “I am,” he insists, fingers still tight “I am your good boy.”

You smile, stroking the front of his neck softly as you lean down to press a kiss against his cheek. “You are, aren’t you?” He whimpers. “Then let go, honey,” you murmur, hand on his wrist giving another experimental tug. Still, his grip remains solid. “Jungkook,” you snap, “let go.”

“Y-You’ll laugh,” he cries, yet his grip slowly weakens. It’s with a swift tug that the iPad tumbles to his side, presses against his hip, and shows you the raging hard-on that stirs beneath the front of his cotton pants. Pressed nearly beside your ear, Jungkook shivers. 

Ever so slowly, your hands return to their place around his waist. “Why would I laugh, sweetheart?” you mumble, marveling at the way his cock twitches and jumps beneath his pants before you can even touch it. His shirt is hiked up just above his abs, your hands tenderly stroking over the skin beneath his navel, but it’s got Jungkook writhing. “Hips up for me,” you instruct. 

He shakes even when he pushes himself up, knees wobbling as you slip your hands beneath his waistband and tug them down his thighs. Afterwards, his legs flop forward flatly, spread out with his beautiful swollen cock on display against his hip. 

You trap it at the base and Jungkook mewls, hands fisting the sheets now that his beloved iPad has been snatched away. It’s still playing his videos, interrupting his saccharine moans with corny ads every few minutes. A hand snaps up to join, opposite of yours, until your fingers are entwined around his dick. How romantic, you think, discreetly rolling your hips back against the mattress. “Gonna help me make you cum?” you ask instead, give him a light squeeze that makes him jolt. 

“Uh huh,” he responds, feathery. 

You reward him with a kiss to his cheek, reaching up to brush away the hair that’s begun sticking to his forehead. In the very back of your head you recognize this as being good for his fever, but the rest of you is more concerned with the pretty pout on his lips. “Hold tight for me,” you smile, releasing his cock to press your finger against the very tip of his cock where a pearly drop of precum has begun forming. “So pretty, Jungkookie,” you praise, teasing the length of your finger over the slit on his head. It has that juicy droplet coating your finger, gliding seamlessly over and over again. 

The simple touch makes him buck, has him blindly wrapping an arm around your bent knee that was pressed to his side this whole time. He squeezes around you rather weakly, the majority of his strength going to holding his cock tightly like you’d instructed. He’s such a good boy for you, trying his absolute best, even when you’re very obviously overwhelming him. 

You roll the flat side of your finger over him, his mushroom tip slowly growing more and more slick as he produces more precum. It’s shiny, fits perfectly between your clasped fingers when you squeeze around his head. Jungkook’s breath turns labored. 

He’s always so well kept down there, skin so smooth and free of hairs, and you know he does it because he wants to impress you. “So pretty, baby,” you hum, acknowledging his efforts. Your praise makes Jungkook moan, suddenly fucking up into his hand. It’s accidental, because he hisses at the drag of his dry palm around his relatively dry dick immediately. 

“Hurts, hurts,” he whimpers prettily, lower lip caught between his teeth. 

You frown, slide your wet fingers down the base of his cock until they’re wrapping around his and Jungkook’s little gasps even out. “I’m sorry, baby, you gotta be patie—“

Something presses against your hip, something distinctly hard that you had hastily picked up from his bathroom cabinet earlier, and a whole new door opens before your eyes. “Hold still for me,” you tell him quickly as you release your grip around his cock. Jungkook wails at the separation, but you’re more concerned with wrestling the tube out of your pocket with one hand. It’s heavy in your palm, turning over until that big fat label on front comes into view again. 

Jungkook explodes at the sight. ��Wh— Where did you find that?” he stammers, cheeks ablaze. “I-I don’t know where that came fro—“

You ignore him, hold the bottle of lubricant over his stomach as you uncap it, a gooey pink substance spilling over into your hands the moment the lid pops off. Jungkook is still rambling away about the origins of the bottle, as if you care. You set the bottle on his tummy, the cold plastic makes him shiver. But you know what’s not cold? The warming lube in your hands that only takes three rubs of your palms to activate. 

You latch down like a crazed animal around his cock. With both your hands fighting to grip at his cock, you’re pressed closer against Jungkook, lips against the shell of his ear. 

The initial touch makes him sob, back arching and legs kicking at the sheets piled at the foot of the bed as your slick hands track the lube over his dick. “No!” he cries, hands wildly reaching out to grab whatever he can as you slowly get to work pulling him off. “I-I can’t, __, I can’t.”

“You can,” you coo, watching the translucent pink substance coat his cock, join his sticky precum. 

Maybe you get overexcited in your efforts, forget Jungkook is the way he is right now because he was still a little weak from his fever, but you go crazy on stroking his cock. One hand lingers around the base, squeezing and rolling over his balls, palm pressing against the hardened sac and squeezing there too. The other focuses at the tip, does most of the actual stroking over his cock. His head is leaking precum now, every stroke and squeeze making him shudder and push out another drop, until it’s mixing with the lube to form a sticky sweet substance that you wanna lick at so bad. 

So you do. 

You release one hand to curiously bring it up to your face, turning it over and around as you examine the stickiness on your fingers, the fat drop that unintentionally drips onto the front of Jungkook’s sweatshirt. He sobs at the sight of your lips around your fingers, squirms and bucks into the hand still on his cock until he’s embarrassingly coming. “I’m sorry,” he wails, hands fisting the sheets, fucking into your hand like a virgin. “I didn’t— I didn’t mean to.” 

You draw your hand away, watching in slow motion the cum that just spurted from his cock come dribbling down the slowly softening length now. “Oh, sweetheart,” you croon, hands on his tummy. The bottle of lube slips to the side, meets the still playing iPad at his hip. It’s sticky and gross to touch him like this, especially when you know Jungkook hates being unnecessarily dirty, but you can’t stop yourself from softly caressing him, soothe him after such a hard-hitting orgasm. 

Honestly you had thought he would hold up a little more, let you get in a few more strokes, but he must’ve been more sensitive than you thought. “I’m sorry,” he cries again, head lolling to the side to meet your gaze with watery eyes. 

You tilt his head to the side, angle him just right for you to bestow your first kiss of the night against his little pout. Jungkook hiccups, melts against you as you slowly guide him through the kiss. He’s sloppy and shy, moves nothing like your normal Jungkook, and that fact alone has you slipping your tongue past his lips. He doesn’t fight back, just lets you play with him and sighs all delicately against your mouth. 

There’s something about this, his soft and submissive attitude, that has you pulling away to look at him. Big brown eyes, glassed over with unshed tears, and plush lips that call your name. And yet. 

“Open,” you murmur, hypnotized by the way that tiny mouth moves. 

“Huh?” Jungkook flushes, but he’s so good, he’s your good boy, and does so anyway. Lower lip quivers as he parts his lips, stuttering exhales creeping through as you purse your lips, let the saliva collect on your mouth, before rudely spitting into his. He flinches, whimpers softly, and swallows. He looks at you with these expectant eyes, like he wants to hear how much of a good boy he is, so you do exactly that. 

You brush his bangs away lovingly. “Aren’t you just so good for me,” you purr, revel in the way his eyes flutter shut at your touch, like you could never hurt him, and you won’t. 

As sweet as the moment is, there’s a raging fire in your core begging to be stroked, and your hyperfixation on Jungkook’s mouth lets you know there’s only one way to chase the feeling. “Up,” you tell Jungkook, who whimpers sadly when you finally escape from behind him. 

But you don’t get too far, settling beside him on the bed until you’re looking at the damage you’ve caused from the front. His skin is sticky in some places, pink sheen of the lube decorating him from your incessant touching. Pants around his thighs, shirt against his chest. His face is flushed, all the way down to his chest and up to his ears, so rosy and pink all for you. He shies away under your gaze, drops his head to his chin bashfully. 

You grin, shuffle forward to turn those pretty eyes back towards you. “Messy little thing,” you tease, slotting your mouths together again. Jungkook moans this time, lazily kissing you back. His lips move in slow motion, trembling hands reaching for your face to cup, your name falling from his lips when you pull away slightly. “Need you to help me out now,” you murmur, hand on his jaw. “Can you do that, honey?” Jungkook nods hurriedly, eyes foggy and on your mouth. “Lay back.”

He does so, rushes to lay against the pillows until he’s flat on his back. You get to work on your clothes, shed your cardigan and languidly tug your top over your head in the way you know makes your breasts bounce. Beneath you, Jungkook whines at the sight. “You too,” you remind him, wiggling out of your jeans. At your instruction, he begins fumbling with his clothes, pants and underwear haphazardly thrown over the edge of the bed. 

By the time you’re naked, you’re met with a rather amusing sight. 

In his haste to take his clothing off, Jungkook seems to have gotten himself tangled in his long sleeves, shirt awkwardly bunched up around his wrists and twisted over some. You chuckle. “Help please,” he asks so politely, shaking his arms back and forth above his head. But you’re genuinely confused as to what he did, because one of the sleeves wraps around the other, pins the bulk of the fabric to his skin, and then the other wraps around that. A mess you don’t bother dissecting, simply climbing over him. He complains, of course, soft huffs you wave off. 

“Don’t need them anyway,” you shrug, can’t help the lovesick look you send him when you brush his hair away for the umpteenth time. Jungkook leans into the touch sweetly, rosy cheek pressed against your palm. “Lemme see your pretty little tongue,” you order, pussy clenching when he does as told and rolls his tongue out for you, tip pressed against his bottom lip. “Good boy.”

A soft whimper, and then you’re shuffling over him, pretty doe eyes watching with amazement when you finally hover over his face. “For me?” he asks so softly, so sweetly. 

It’s a question you’ve heard him utter countless times before in similar settings, always with a cocky grin and mean eyes, ready to send you to hell and back with his tongue or his cock. But it’s different now, big shiny eyes looking at you like you’re the greatest thing to ever happen in his life, so pliant and demure beneath your touch like he lived to serve you. 

“All for you,” you assure him, get comfortable, and slowly lower your pussy over his face. His eyes flutter shut immediately, pink tongue ready for you by the time your dripping cunt nears his face. 

You can’t help the moan that tears itself from your throat, a soft cry as he begins lapping against your folds. He’s so tender, so careful. It drives you crazy. Hands above his head squirming as you slowly grind your pussy over his face, more mindful than usual because he was so delicate tonight, like a baby bird that shivers with the simplest touch. 

His tongue is smooth, circles around your clit. He nudges your bundle of nerves back and forth a few times, sends an initial wave of tingles down your spine, before taking it between puckered lips. His slurps it into his mouth, where it’s so hot and wet, it makes your grind stutter. “Oh,” you pant, reaching down to tangle your fingers in his hair. “P-Perfect,” you mumble. 

The praise makes his features twist up cutely, mouth desperate to get more out of you. “You like that?” you gasp, holding his head still as he runs his tongue along your folds. Jungkook nods, eyes glazed over as he messily begins eating you out. “Like when I tell you you’re a good boy, Jungkookie?” 

He lets out a broken whine, the vibrations shooting up your spine and making you shiver. Tongue pressed in at your entrance, prods gently like it’s his first time (it’s not) and he’s gauging your reactions. “Oh baby,” you shudder, fingers tightening in his curls. 

He looks like an angel beneath you like this, halo of curls artfully splayed across the sheets, arms knotted above his head. Big pretty eyes that make you want to lay down and be his bitch instead, their power just so strong even when he’s whining and whimpering against your pussy like this. His tongue dips into your cunt, makes you buck against him by accident. “I’m sorry, angel,” you breathe, so caught up in your thoughts that the name just slips. It makes Jungkook’s cheeks flush a pretty pink, arms tug at their makeshift restraints. But his brain is scattered, torn between releasing himself, eating you out, and being shy. 

He settles soon enough, ends up just sticking his tongue out flat for you to grind against, using the grip in his curls to drag your pussy over his face. His scalp feels warm, sweat clinging to his hairline. He sighs endearingly against you, and it’s that final puff of warm air against your folds that has you coming, cum dripping over his lips and chin sinfully. 

When you finish, you quickly get off of him, lay down beside him. Jungkook is panting softly, tongue peeking out to taste the cum that splattered against the corner of his lips. “You were so good for me,” you praise, idly dragging your finger across his skin, collecting your cum on the tip. 

Jungkook looks at you with a heavy gaze, knotted wrists slowly returning to rest over his abdomen. “Can you… Can you call me that again?” he asks hesitantly, so shy and polite. 

“Hm?” you ask. “Angel?” His lips part, an awfully aroused look crossing his features. You smile, press your cum loaded finger against his lips and he opens, sucks around your finger and moans. “My pretty little angel,” you purr, slowly thrusting your finger in and out of his mouth. Before you can stop yourself, you’re leaning over to kiss him again, swallowing his cries in your desperate need to taste yourself on his tongue. Jungkook is more active this time around, daringly challenging your tongue with his before ultimately giving up, languidly following the pace you set for the kiss. You pull off with a pop, leave him dazed and trailing after your mouth cutely. 

You pat his cheek once, offer him a tender smile, before moving to get up and clean up. Jungkook whines at your departure, and it’s only once you’ve sat up that you realize why. 

Half hard cock at his hip, fattening slowly but surely. Instantly, it’s like the post-orgasm fatigue is yanked away, pussy throbbing at the sight of your angel and his cock, swelling from eating you out and kissing. He was too good to be true. 

“Oh, you poor thing,” you sigh dramatically, shifting onto your knees at his hip to look at him. Something pokes your leg; it’s the stupid iPad playing his dorky YouTube videos that you click off and chuck to the other side of the bed. You had had enough of that by now. 

He’s not at full mast yet, and he’s not getting there quick enough for your liking. So you take matters into your own hands. (Besides, what was stopping you tonight? Certainly not this soft, pliant Jungkook.)

Kneeling between his legs, you reach for the forgotten bottle of lube, squirt a fat glob into your hands, then decide that isn’t enough and squirt it directly onto your chest. Jungkook watches with wide eyes, lower lip caught between his teeth. “What— What’re you doing?” he stammers, can’t even sit up with his hands held together. “__, y-you don’t have—“

Squeezing your breasts together, you slip his cock between the crevice, watch as his angry head comes out on the other side so easily, so slippery. Oh, this was gonna be post-work, shower-time, spank bank material for months. 

Jungkook sobs, loud and unfiltered at the sight, expression torn as he watches you slowly work your tightened breasts down his quickly hardening member. “T-Too much, too much,” he cries, squirming and bucking beneath you. “I-I’ll come—” 

“Don’t,” you snap, stilling your moments to flick your eyes back to him. His head is rolled back, jaw strained, but when he manages to lift it up and look down at you, there’s tears that streak his cute face, trails that glisten when the lowlight of the lamp hits him just right. “Don’t fucking come yet, Jungkook.”

He sniffles weakly, more tears spilling from his eyes. “But I— it feels,” he blubbers, knotted hands reaching down for the base of his cock. You slap it away. “___, please,” he wails, face flushed from all his conflicting emotions. 

Ignoring his cries, you get back to work, moving your upper body to and fro to simulate the thrusting motion he is too weak to do himself. He whimpers pitifully, more tears leaving his eyes when you lean down and spit on the head of his cock when it emerges next, make it join the rest of the ungodly fluids painting your chest. Honestly, you’re certain it’s that damned strawberry flavored, sensation warming, edible lube that makes this experience so enjoyable, so mind-blowing. 

Jungkook seems to agree, stuttering out a messy whine. “Feels weird,” he snivels, only to be cut off when you release him from in between your tits. Immediately, he begins lamenting the loss. 

Slowly, you ease him back in. You’re beginning to understand the intensity of that damned warming lube, because with each glide of his cock between your breasts, it’s like a tingle of nerves sparks within you, insides folding in on themselves as they channel all their energy to that one area of hastily spread lube. It feels so good and wet and messy, Jungkook’s whiny sniffles only fueling the experience. His cock twitches dangerously, and you flash him a glare. “Jungkook,” you warn. 

“I’m sorry,” he weeps, thrashing back and forth as if that makes it any easier. “I just��� I want,” he chokes, hips bucking into the suction you’ve created between your boobs. Tentatively, you stick your tongue out, let his tip brush against it on the next thrust. Jungkook curses, a feral groan escaping his lips. “Wanna fuck,” he seethes, “now.”

It’s but a slight peek into his regular personality, his normal mannerisms. But something about it now annoys you. In fact, it pisses you off, seeing him be so complacent and sweet just to try and overthrow you at the last second. And it’s with this same train of thought that you release him, climb over him like a crazed sex demon, and press your hand to his throat. 

“You're supposed to be good,” you spit, scowl turned on him and it immediately has Jungkook drawing back with his tail tucked, falling into line as he should. “You’re supposed to be my angel tonight, remember?”

Jungkook nods, big round eyes looking at you like you’re insane, but the cock that presses against your ass tells you that he likes it. “I-I’m sorry,” he stutters, shrinking back into the mattress. Sticky hands around his throat, probably make him warm and tingly, but all you can think about is those pretty eyes. Sensing your wavering emotions, he takes advantage by tilting his chin forward for you cutely, pink lips trembling as he silently asks for a kiss. 

You release him.

“Stupid angel,” you huff, mouth against his. “Gonna make me mad if you don’t act right,” you remind him, pushing his sweaty curls away from his face. He whimpers against your mouth, let’s you play with his hair as you calm down. He’s a blushing mess beneath you, every inch of him flushed and warm and sweaty. 

You shift back and are met with his still rock hard member against your ass. You touch him appreciatively, reaching back to stroke him with a half-assed grip. It makes him moan nonetheless, pulling away from your lips to mewl against your shoulder. “Wanna fuck?” you hum, curling your hand over the tip like he likes, watching his head roll back against his pillow at the sensation. Jungkook groans, doesn’t seem to hear you now. You try again. “Wanna fuck my pussy, baby?”

“Yes,” he gasps this time, jolts when you press the tip of your finger against the slit on his head, plug his cock from releasing any more precum. “Please, please,” he begs, the hands on his chest straining against the shirt he still hasn’t managed to shake off. 

One last kiss is delivered to him, a chaste one against his pout that makes him whine. “Whatever you want,” you purr, line him up. 

Your hands are still sticky with the lube and so is his cock. Everything is sticky; his cock, you folds, your tits, his neck. It’s a big sticky, slippery mess, but you can’t even be annoyed because everything feels so good. Your tits tingle from whatever they put in that damn lube, nipples rock hard and extra swollen today, like if you don’t touch them you’ll die. You sink back into Jungkook’s throbbing cock, and the second his cock spreads the lube along your walls, you’re jolting because it just feels so damn good. 

You can’t believe this is Jungkook’s preferred sick day treatment; YouTube, cuddles, and an ugly amount of lube. 

His cock pushes past your folds, fits snugly inside of you just like it belongs. It still feels like the first time, feels like your first day where he was so perfect and sweet. Part of you wonders what would have become of you two if he had reacted like this that day, soft and whiny, when you first prepositioned him. Maybe the sexual aspect of your relationship would be entirely different today, maybe you’d be one the always leading. 

But… you’re not sure if you’d want that. Leading is fun— hell, you’re certain this moment will be what you get engraved on your tombstone —but you were a pillow princess at heart with occasional dominant tendencies. You drool over this moment now, but if he asks for this again tomorrow you might actually bend over and die. It was a lot of work, keeping the energy going, and you find yourself having this newfound sense of respect for Jungkook as his cock slips past your folds. 

Anyway, when you sit on his cock, fingers teasingly tightening around his throat, Jungkook’s eyes are weirdly focused on your tits. He’s been doing that a lot lately, losing his mind by just staring at your tits. On some occasions he puts them in his mouth, gets possessed by some titty loving monster and sucks on them until you’re trembling. It’s fine because it’s quite frankly a huge ego boost, but something him now makes you want to pick at him for it. 

“They’re yours to taste, angel,” you hum, slowly rolling your hips over his fat cock. Jungkook whimpers, softly ruts up into your heat the next time you press down. “Tell me what you want,” you exhale, a breathy moan. 

He doesn’t say anything, just drops his mouth open for you with a trembling lower lip. Tongue peeks out, eyes glazed over in his lust, looking every bit like those hentai ads he hates so much. But you fulfill his wishes, help him sit up until he’s flush against your chest. His awkwardly bound hands get squished in the middle, and he says, “m-my hands...” 

“I’ve got you,” you soothe, undo his self-made restraints and toss them to the side. Immediately, he’s wrapping his arms around you, pulling you flush against him to latch his lips around your breasts. “S-Slow down,” you whine, hands on his biceps as he sucks your tit into his mouth, twirls his tongue around your nipple. He’s good with his tongue even when he’s sick. 

He pulls off with a pop, ragged breathing only making you more sensitive as it fans over the thin layer of saliva he leaves on your tits. “Tastes like strawberries,” he groans wondrously, head against your chest. You use the lull to get back to fucking yourself on him, but Jungkook’s got other plans. He rolls the two of you over, pins you beneath him with his hot and sweaty body. “I’m sorry,” he moans as he begins jackhammering his thrusts into you. 

Your back arches, legs thrown around his waist as the sudden change of events. “Fffuck,” you heave, “harder, angel— gotta fuck like you mean it.”

Jungkook shudders, hands looped around the small of your back. His cock rams into you over and over, each glide of it against the walls of your pussy making you unravel in his arms. His lips latch around your other boob, suck and suck like he’s expecting something to come out.

That’s when it hits you. 

“N-Nothing there,” you tell him, arms wrapped around his shoulders. His lashes are wet, eyes pinching tighter at your reminder. He pulls away almost to protest, but then you’re guiding him up to your face, hot breath mingling with yours. “Nothing there because you haven’t given me a baby yet,” you murmur darkly, watch the emotions flood his features as you tap into that taboo kink of his. 

He chokes, grinds his cock into you and holds it there. “I-I didn’t,” he sniffs, “we never— you never said,” he whines, “...you wanted one.”

You cup his face in his hands, feel slightly mean for the pride you get from his tear stricken appearance. “I do,” you purr, lazily kissing him. “Want one if it’s from you. Don’t you?” He nods like an antsy puppy, quivering against you as he slowly and shallowly ruts into you. “Don’t you wanna see me like that, angel?” you egg on, hands looping behind his neck, idly playing with stray waves and curls. “Tummy so big and swollen because you did something bad, because you couldn’t pull out.” 

Jungkook sobs, pulls you impossibly closer until the head of his cock is missing your cervix repeatedly. One of your legs is pressed nearly to your chest, hip tight from the force in which he holds you. “I-I want,” he agrees, more tears spilling down his cheeks. 

You smirk evilly, kissing the corner of his mouth gently as he slowly picks up the pace of his thrusts. “Then fuck me hard, Jungkookie,” you demand, “fuck me full of your cum.”

Jungkook nods with a sniffle against your shoulder, fingers tightening against your skin as he slowly but surely begins nailing you into the mattress. He’s a good boy, always, because he does exactly what you tell him to. Uses those bulky muscles to hold you down, makes it impossible for you to move as he pistons his hips, cock sheathing itself inside your cunt. 

Every drag makes you unconsciously clench, the raw feeling consuming your thoughts. His cock is so big and wet today, certainly due to that stupid lube from beneath his cabinet. Your entire pussy feels like it’s on ecstasy, stupidly geeked up by that lube, and you’re sure Jungkook’s cock feels the same. It makes the glide so much better, so much easier, each ram of his cock feeling so easy. “Oh, fuck,” you whimper, nails digging down his spine. Jungkook is a sobbing, sniffling mess against the crook of your neck, absolute gibberish falling from his lips. 

But you’re no better, tongue seemingly set on a chaotic rampage to validate every single one of his fantasies. “Gonna fuck me while I’m pregnant?” you pant against his ear, fingers tugging at his hair. He doesn’t offer more than a strained cry, thrusts momentarily falling out of rhythm. “You would like that, huh? Fucking me when you’re not supposed to. You’re so bad, Kook-ah,”  you gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head. “Only pretend to be an angel but really you’re just a dirty, little pervert.” 

He wails loudly, slams his hips so hard into you that it makes you sob as well. “N-No,” he blubbers, tears against your skin. “I’m good— I’m a good boy,” he stresses, fingers bruising their prints into your skin. 

He presses so close, cock practically making your stomach bulge, but neither of you see. “Dirty angel,” you spit, yank his hair back roughly until he’s forced to look at you with that watery gaze. “So horny you’re willing to get me pregnant.”

Jungkook cries out, snaps his cock into you like he’s trying to break you in half. “No,” he heaves, tears dripping down his cheeks and onto yours. “I-I-I’d do it right,” he defends weakly, hips losing their demonic pace as his orgasm sneaks up on him. “Ma— Marry first… then, b— ba— bab—“

You swallow his words with your lips, kiss him like you’re on the verge of death in a desperate attempt to hide your tears from him. They paint your cheeks in stark strokes, trail down your skin and make everything blurry, but so does your orgasm. 

You come first, heart and body trembling at his unexpectedly sweet words, as you become a whimpering, teary mess beneath him. Jungkook follows, cries out your name one last time as he busts inside of you. 

Sticky and gross, he falls onto the pillow beside you. Poor baby is so tired, curls covering half of his face, but lips cutely puckered against the pillow. He’s sweaty as hell though, which you now vaguely remember was your original goal with all of this so you count this as a success. 

You think he’s fallen asleep, sitting up slowly and reaching for that t-shirt that bound him together earlier to clean up. He shudders when you run it against his skin, obviously still overwhelmed. You shift around the bed in search of today’s MVP. “Where’s the lube?” you mutter to yourself. 

Jungkook groans. “YouTube?” he asks, voice dry as all hell. 

“No, honey, the lube we used,” you respond, running your hands over the sheets for any signs of the pink bottle. 

“Want YouTube,” he mumbles, lets you swaddle him up in the blanket again. You roll your eyes and reach for the forgotten iPad that had long since tumbled to the floor. When it turns on, that same video from before is on pause so you don’t bother changing it as you hand it back to Jungkook. “Nice,” he murmurs, “underground water slide.”

You snort. “Weirdo.” He glares cutely, eyes barely open at this point. “Watch your YouTube.”

“Use your lube,” he sasses back softly, nonsensically, and then rather anticlimactically passes out. 

There’s something soft in your chest, something so big and overwhelming, that has you bending over his sleeping figure, mouth brushing against his. “Hurry and get better, angel,” you whisper, wish on it with all your heart. 

 To no one’s surprise, you get sick two days later. Doyeon laughs and laughs for hours about it, tells you that’s what you get for using sex as medicine. But Jungkook’s back to normal, which means he stays over and coddles you to death. 

“Hurry and get better,” he says, spoon feeding you your famous Get Better Soon Soup that you passed on to him. “I have a question to ask you.”

There’s a little black box in his downstairs bathroom cabinet that you swear you’ve never seen, but Jungkook knows you’re lying. 

It fits perfectly. 

epilogue

She scoffs. “And I care why?” You huff, go to scold her for their weird rivalry, but then she’s moving on. “Babe, just give him some pain relief and call it a day.”

“Fine,” you mumble. “Wait, can you look something else up for me?”

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[amor-immortalem]

Everything Undesired

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort

Warnings: dead dove: do not eat, heavily implied rape, gross misuse of a pact, dissociation victim blaming

Summary: not all pact masters use their pacts judiciously or in a positive way. What happens when a pact is misused in one of the worst ways possible?

A/N: so a while back I did a comic by the name of ‘Meet Me Under the Azaleas’ I’m no longer happy with the writing I put into it originally so I wanted to rewrite it using the same plot line and adding some extra scenes that weren’t in the original comic which I’ll be taking down tonight. It should work better as a fic anyway.

Chapter 1

“You are ours. We own you.”

Those words rang in his head over and over as he stumbled his way into his room, overstimulated, exhausted- a mess. He knew it was a mistake to answer the call of those witches tonight. The thoughts of what they did, how their hands ran over his body, what they had taken away. It made his stomach churn and tie itself in knots with guilt and shame. It burned just the same as the rope marks on his wrists and ankles- wounds that would heal within the hour.

“You won’t breathe a word of this to anyone- this we command of you, Avatar of Greed.”

Those women -no, they were monsters- abused the innate trust that comes with a demon who enters a pact with a human, multiple in this case. They had violated the boundaries he’d put in place the day he started dating his human. Oh God, what would she think if word ever got out? He had no way of speaking out- to scream the truth until his voice was raw.

He needed to shower, to get the stench of sex and sweat off of him. He had to get their scent off of him. As he entered the bathroom, Mammon tore off his clothes as he started the water. The lights remained off as he couldn’t bare to look at himself after what happened. Not after how he just let them use him like that.

He stepped under the boiling water and just let it run against him. The falling water did nothing to drown out the deafening voices running rampant in his mind.

“Disgusting!” They roared, “Useless! Pathetic! Weak! Whore! ….. Scum!”

He falls to the floor of his shower, hands gripping at his hair as he let out a whimper that eventually turned into quiet sobs. The steamy air making it harder to breathe. Why didn’t he fight against them harder- against their orders. No, he just laid there and took it.

He grabbed the soap and a wash rag and scrubbed his body until every bit of him was raw and even then he wouldn’t stop. It was only when he saw the blood swirling around the drain that Mammon realized what he was doing to himself- how bad the water burned the exposed skin. It felt like hellfire raining down upon him.

He felt horrible as he reached up and switched the water off. He could still hear it in his head as he reached for a towel- all the crying, screaming, begging for them to stop.

He was a pathetic, sorry excuse of a demon, he thinks as he wraps the towel around his waist and travels down the his stairs quietly. It’s early morning now. There was only a few hours left before he would have wake up for school. He contemplated just skipping the entire day. There would be know way he’d be able to function. He could always say he feels sick- its not that far from the truth. He would decide in a few hours, he thought as he crawled into bed. It didn’t take long for her to move closer to him. His naturally warmer body temperature was what drew her to him. His body involuntarily tensing as she nuzzled into his chest, arms slipping around his body. He would only tuck her head under his chin and drape and arm over her side as he let the scent of her shampoo relax him enough to fall into a light sleep.

After a short while, someone's alarm blared among the sheets- whether it his or Arella's, he couldn't be sure. Mammon patted around for the offending phone, just wanting to get five more minutes of shut eye. He eventually succeeded but not without waking his partner.

"Morning, Love," Arella sighed, her voice still laced with the grogginess of sleep.

"Mornin', Treasure," The demon yawns as he curls back up, pulling her closer to his chest. "Sleep well?"

"I did. What time you get back last night?" Arella's voice is soft as her hand slides under his shirt, rubbing gently along his side.

"5 this mornin'." He says as he tries to hide the way his body recoils from her touch, a pang of guilt strikes his heart as she notices. "Sorry... 'm not really feelin' all that great right now..."

"No, that's alright." She removes her hand from his side, choosing instead to rest it against his cheek as she readjusts herself so she's eye-level with him on the pillow. "How selfish of those witches to keep you out so late on a school night..." Its at this point she notices the puffiness and how red his eyes are. "You look like you've been crying... Is everything alright?"

He just shakes his head. Mammon wants so badly to tell her what happened to him the night before- the real reason he got home so late, but unsurprisingly, no words come out. He just closes his eyes, letting himself relax under her gentle touch. "I'm jus' really tired s'all."

"I believe it. You only got a hour and a half's worth of sleep. Would you like to just stay home all day, just the two of us?" Arella moves him so he's resting with his head on her chest.

"That's sounds.... nice," he hums quietly, so close to falling back into the clutches of sleep.

"Alright then. Go on and go back to sleep," She kisses the top of his head, carding her fingers through the soft, fluffy locks the other hand rubbing small circles in the center of his back. "I've got you."

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

This carried on for months. The witches would summon him and as long as he complied with their wishes, they would hold his secret. By the third time, he would check out- let his mind escape to anywhere but the present until it was over. It became a vicious cycle. They would call, he would go to them, and then he would crawl into his bed for maybe an hour or two before forcing himself to get up for classes that he often fell asleep in. After the tenth, once they had finished with him, he asked why they were doing this and they told him.

“We desire something to bind you to us for the rest of our lives.”

“A child.”

The demon’s eyes widened at that. Never in his life had he been so opposed to the idea of having children. In fact, just before all of this happened he had been daydreaming about what his children with Arella would look like if they were ever so fortunate to have any but a child with one of the witches? It made him sick. A half-demon born from a demon of his status had a high probability of killing its mother- one who he would then have to raise. How could he explain that to his brothers- to Arella? The very thought filled him with dread. How could he ever bring himself to care for a child conceived from a crime? A child that would always be nothing but a constant reminder of the worst nights of his life. They didn’t deserve a life like that.

And so Mammon did the only thing he could think to do: he fled. He ran back to the Devildom, back to House of Lamentation as fast a his legs would carry him. He crashed through the doors of the house. Never had he been so greatful to be the first one home. As he climbed the steps up to his room he vowed to himself never again. He wouldn’t give them what they wanted, consequences be damned.

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

It had been six months since his last encounter with the witches. There was nothing on their end- absolute radio silence. Part of Mammon wondered if they'd gotten what they wanted from him after all. Everyday was filled with the anxiety of not knowing. His nightmares had gotten worse. Most of them were based around those nights he'd spent with them, others involved everyone finding out a one-sided version of what had happened, all spun in the favor of the witches. He dreamed of Arella leaving him, heart-broken from the implication that he would stray from her and running into the arms of one of his brothers. The worst ones- the ones he would wake up from covered in a cold sweat in the dead of night- consisted of him standing in the witches' home, the sounds of screaming, the smell of blood, the piercing first cries somewhere between the call of a demon and the screams of a human baby infecting his senses. It all felt too real. It felt like a crushing weight on his chest.

Over this time, Mammon had grown distant from both his brothers and Arella, hardly spending anytime with them. He fell apart. The grades he worked so hard to pull up had taken a nose dive, he was hardly eating- choosing only to consume just barely enough to sustain himself. He no longer slept for fear of the nightmares and he instead threw himself into side jobs that would keep him out of the house well passed curfew as well as earn him plentiful amounts of grimm. He couldn't go on like this much longer.

Everyone was worried for him. None of them had ever seen the Avatar of Greed in this manner and the gradual change in his demeanor alarmed them. Despite everyone’s best attempts, Mammon hardly smiled anymore. He just simply didn't seem to enjoy all of the things he once did. They all knew something was wrong but when asked the white haired demon would shrug it off, say he was fine when he very obviously was not. Everything came to a head the night Mammon collapsed, finally falling victim to exhaustion and hunger.

It was after this that Lucifer called the family to a meeting while Arella sat with Mammon in his room as he slept fitfully.

"What do we do, Lucifer?" Asmo seemed distraught with fear. "Our brother is suffering from something and we don't even know where to start in trying to help him."

"We have to get him to talk somehow," Satan quipped, "Perhaps Arella can-"

"If this were any other situation, I would suggest it but right now, I don't think that's a very wise move. If she forces him to talk it could very well damage the bond they share." For the first time in thousands of years, Lucifer didn't know what to do. Whatever was causing this shift in personality was eating away at Mammon. "We'll try to think of a way to fix this- to find out what happened to our dear brother. So let's start at the beginning of all of this. What do we know about what he was doing before this happened?"

"Well, Levi started, "He was getting called up by those witch sisters with more and more frequently. I heard him come home super late- like early morning hours late..."

"And after that is when he practically stopped eating." Beel chimed in.

"And he was having nightmares almost nightly, afterwards." Belphie nodded. "I did my best with my powers to look into them but there were so many mental blocks that he subconsciously put up, I couldn't see or hear anything very well and what I could see didn't make a whole lot of sense. They weren't very clear, but they had something to do with the witches... and I felt an overwhelming sense of guilt associated with them."

"Then obviously something happened while he was with them," Satan said, brow furrowed. "But what that may be, we won't know until he talks."

"Asmo, I see the look on your face." Lucifer called out to the Avatar of Lust. "Is there something, you'd like share with the group?"

Everyone's eyes were locked onto Asmodeus as the demon sat with a contemplative look on his face. He was very slowly starting to piece together what had been going on.

"Not yet, but I may have a hunch." He finally said. "Mammon has a pact with these women, correct?"

Next

Masterlist 2

[peter-parcoeur]

Good girl gone bad | (frat!tom)

request: How about frat cocky Tom at a Christmas party, wearing something that shows off his muscles, and he keeps flirting with y/n, who hates him. Throughout the night, he slowly wins her over, and once he has her in the palm of his hand, he makes her compliment him and then worship his muscles and then get on her knees and suck on him through his boxer briefs and then finally he f*cks her face and he's dirty talking and boasting all the way through :)

disclaimer: Hiii, so this was a request (sadly anonymous but if you’re out there reading this, I hope you enjoy and this lives up to your expectations...) this is my first attempt at fratboy!tom so I apologize in advance if that’s not exactly what you expected from it or whatever. Also I’m french so, some unfortunate spelling mistakes may occur and for this I apologize too! (damn I do really know how to sell myself, don’t I?) Anyway, enjoy your reading and please give it a ♥ if you liked it and a comment if you either really liked or hated it. Annnnd I’m talking too much.

warnings: smut smut smutty smut is to be expected, obviously. includes: brat!tom, braggy!tom, boasting!tom and some serious potty mouth / enemies to lovers (well, more like enemies to fuckbuddies idk) / oral-sex / face-fuck / dirtyDIRTY talk/ fingering / brief mentions of self luuuuvin (that’s masturbation, for you) / dom!tom + sub!reader / I guess a little bit of humiliation and praise kink idk if that’s triggering so just in case... / roughness... I guess that’s it? probably enough already.

____________________________________________________

« Come on, it’ll be fun! God knows you could really use some fun… » your friend’s voice almost begged over the phone as you safely locked it between your cheek and your shoulder to open the door to your dorm room, your keyrings grazing the piece of metal surrounding the lock with a soft, clicking noise.

“Yeah cause hanging out with complete morons as they get shit-faced on cheap vodka is totally my idea of a good night...”

“ Urghhhh, Y/N please, are you really gonna be a Grinch about it?”

“  Well, it’s a Christmas party so I guess that’s convenient?”

You could tell your friend was getting frustrated by now, the slight change of tone in her voice making her sound desperate. Kicking off your shoes and dropping your books above the mess on your desk, you immediately crashed onto your bed with a loud, exhausted groan as this never-ending day had managed to push every single one of your buttons. You felt completely drained and yet, your best-friend wanted you to join her to some frat-house where, apparently, the “most incredible” Christmas party was about to be held? Uh-uh. No way. Your actual plan for a Friday night (= eating take-out food in front of some true crime documentary on Netflix) seemed much more appealing than the effort your friend seemed to require from you.

“You’re really gonna bail on me? What if something happens to me?”

“Now this is guilt pressure and you’re so much better than this! “ You laughed, “plus… I know you wanna go just so you can make out with Harrison… You really don’t need me for this and truth be told, I really don’t need to see that guy shove his tongue down your throat!”

“Maybe YOU need someone to shove his tongue down your throat “

“I’ll pass, thanks “

“Come on, how long has it been since you’ve got laid? “

“That’s… way beside the point?””

Still, you thought about it.

How long has it been, really?

Well. As far as you could remember, there were a couple (disastrous) tinder dates at the beginning of the semester. Nothing major even though the sex was still okay. Then you had decided to delete the app so you could focus on your studies, thinking that, eventually, life would grant you with an actual IRL, cute boy who could actually work a little harder to get into your pants whereas it had taken a single swipe on a screen for the previous contestants.

But for now, as the semester had come to an end and Christmas break was around the corner, it only occurred to you just how busy you had been, studying all night long and running on fumes and gallons of coffee. Maybe your friend was right. Maybe you truly needed to blow off some steam. Sometimes you wished you were more like her, carefree and less picky when it came to boys and random flings. Like her current crush, Harrison.

Harrison was a typical heartthrob with the face of a Greek God, so it was only natural for him to act like a brat and play with girls as he wished. With his piercing blue eyes and dreamy smile, girls could only wish he would look at them twice. But still, he wasn’t the worst part of Team Jackass, as you liked to call them. Their captain was actually Tom Holland. Football Quarterback, Tom collected girls’ hearts like trophies and held his pride within his questionable reputation. Party animal, heavy drinker and confirmed exhibitionist since he’d been caught fucking a cheerleader in the middle of the football field right after a game, his name was on everyone’s lips, whether they whispered gossips down the faculty’s corridor or muffled into a pillow as he dived into another naïve, besotted girl with the promise of an encore. To this day, all of the girls he had laid his eyes on were still waiting for a call-back.

You pulled a disgusted face at the thought of witnessing his little hunting game one more time. Tom was actually one of the main reasons why you usually skipped any frat party now. There were just so much time you could waste, sipping on some funky tasting “home-made” punch as “Football superstar” Tom Holland bragged about his athletic skills or how many girls he had fucked over the last couple days. Sometimes, it felt like a competition between him and his brain-dead friends. Somehow, you just knew he kept score of his one-night stands. Maybe he’d give you five stars for trying anal, a deep throat would give you another six and god forbid if you flattered his enormous, gigantic cock, well then, by all means, the throne would be yours. There was just something about him that screamed and irradiated praise kink.

“Y/N? Have I lost you?”

Your friend’s voice brought you back to reality as you seemed to have blacked out for a while.

Then, out of nowhere and unexpectedly, the words came out of your mouth.

“What time is the party then?”

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

For every party, there’s a dress code.

Surely, a “Christmas” party just couldn’t be, without a fair splash of colorful jumpers or any subtle hints at Santa Clause as an excuse for a last-minute theme. Still, standing in front of what could only be Wednesday Addams’ wardrobe, you were suddenly hit by your lack of interest for any piece of clothes that wasn’t a shade between black and white. Was beige even a color anyway?

For a brief second, you considered wearing your infamous Christmas onesie, basically a fluffy one piece with a zipper, an oversized hood and covered with snowflakes and candy canes. The jokes would never end but no one could blame you for being ‘off theme’, then.

In the end, you settled for a rare “colorful” top which, luckily, happened to be whatever shade of green Christmas trees actually were. It was also skin tight and you knew for a fact it made your chest looks twice its size because of the way the velvet fabric enhanced your waistline. It was nowhere near provocative with its long sleeves and turtle-neck so you figured you could be a little bit more risky with the bottom part of your outfit, grabbing the black mini-skirt you’d bought a week before on a splurge, even though you didn’t know if you’d ever find the confidence to pull it off. It was short, there was no denying that as you turned around in the shop’s fitting room to catch a glimpse at your backside, knowing your whole ass would be exposed if you ever dared to bend down even so slightly.

Still, you felt sexy in it and as a girl who happily traded a sexy dress for yoga pants and an oversized hoodie, any piece of clothes that made you feel good about yourself was an instant buy.

Looking down at your final outfit as it laid down on your bed, a pair of nice ankle boots at the bottom of it, you patted yourself on the back for making the extra effort and walked to the bathroom for a well-deserved boiling shower.  Staring at your reflection in the mirror above the sink, you sighed to yourself as the aftermath of a sleep deprived week and lack of skin care routine or basic maintenance whatsoever hit you like a truck on the highway. Your hair had been wrapped into the same messy bun for days and it would definitely take some professional skills to cover up the bags under your eyes.

Maybe this party was the wake-up call you needed, the equivalent of a Judging look from your mother every time you visited her after a while. You could almost hear her complain about how unhealthy you looked and how you should wear more “flattering” clothes. Ironically, you also knew she would never approve the skirt you intended to wear that night. You remembered just too well that frown she’d given you at your father’s 60th birthday and how you had to gulp an entire bottle of red wine to forget about the fact the woman who gave birth to you had called you a prostitute for wearing a dress above the knees. Sometimes it’d be like that. Family gathering were like a plague, somehow, you just couldn’t escape it and it would either scar you for life or make you wish you were dead.

As you entered the cubicle, the coldness of the tiles hit you, covering your skin with goosebumps and sending shivers down your spine. It took you a couple minutes to adjust as you waited for the water to turn hot enough to coat the mirror with a thick foggy layer. Only then did you relax, letting go of this week’s emotionally charged weight upon your shoulders and focusing on yourself, at last.

It was a fairly long shower as you decided to go through your entire haircare routine instead of a brief, one minute shampoo. Not to mention the fact you also had to shave entirely as it felt like it would be a good way to get rid of this nightmare of a semester, like stepping out of your old skin and into a new one. Usually, body hair was probably too far down the list of your preoccupations to even be noticed but you figured, as you felt surprisingly motivated, now was the right time to make your body smooth as a baby. You actually loved the feeling of a soft, freshly shaved skin.

As you rinsed off the soap, your hands fondling the body parts water failed to reach, your mind unexpectedly wandered through some steamy thoughts as soon as your fingertips grazed your slit, taking some shy dip between your folds. It was no surprise that a simple, barely there stroke would instantly strike your arousal, after all, it had been a while. You shamelessly admitted that your studies had taken over your life, up to the point you’d even find yourself too exhausted for some self-love. Somewhere in your chest of drawers, the small collection of adult toys you owned were probably collecting dust in the middle of your socks and panties, wondering when they’d get to take a swim and make you squirm into your sheets as you hold on to the headboard, biting your lip until it turns white so you don’t scream through climax.

What struck you the most was the fact TomfuckingHolland came to your mind the very second your middle finger met your clit, circling it softly as you felt electricity spark through your legs, making it jolt. Why the hell was his stupid smug splattered all over your unspeakable thoughts when he was, by far, the last man on Earth you’d let come close to your naked self? Let alone in a shower cubicle the size of a shoe-box where you’d have no space whatsoever to escape his heavy, muscular chest.

His body looked ridiculously built for a man with the face of a 13 year-old. Sometimes you’d catch him randomly flex throughout the day, showing off his enormous biceps to anyone willing to praise his impeccable shape. There would be no room for these guns in there, you thought as a brief image of these massive arms shielding you from both side, fists tight against the tiles, came immediately to your mind. What took you by surprise wasn’t to actually picture Tom standing in there with you, naked and definitely willing to make that room a lot steamier, but the fact you slipped a finger into your surprisingly dripping core as soon as you imagined him stepping closer so your bare, sticky chests would meet, his obvious arousal poking at your inner thigh, begging to make an entrance.

You stopped before you inevitably came, even though your body craved for that well-deserved relief. You may have been hornier than you thought, but not nearly horny enough to hand your first orgasm in months on a silver plate to a boy who probably stroked himself in front of a mirror on a daily basis. Your thighs squeezed together where your fingers had left a desperate void, rinsing your entire body with a much colder water, hoping it would bring your sanity back.

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You looked incredible.

It wasn’t just you boosting your ego through a pep talk in front of your mirror back in your dorm this time, and even if you loved to give yourself an encouraging speech, praising whatever features you thought made the cut in the top three of your best assets as you gathered the strength to go out in public in an outfit pretty far from your comfort zone, nothing could ever beat the look people gave you as you walked into the frat house looking like a three courses meal. There was just something about that short time slot where you caught a gaze and knew what that look was all about.

You knew Liza, the head student with a soft spot for athletes so obvious she probably had the entire football team’s handprints tattooed on her skin, just hated to see you get the attention she usually caught. Athletes loved nerdy, smart-ass girls like her, but to her own despair, you actually happened to be one of those, only with a shorter skirt and thicker thighs.

You knew half of Team Jackass was already staring at you, wishing they’d catch a glimpse of whatever you had to offer underneath that impeccable outfit as the soft fabric of your skirt kept rising up, every step bringing you closer to an unfortunate peek at the plain, white cotton undies you had chosen to wear that night.

But above anything, you could most definitely feel someone’s gaze upon you, burning up your skin like lasers trying to scan through your clothes. Suddenly, you felt exposed and with a simple smirk, Tom-Holland came out, strong as ever, just so he could pop out the comforting bubble you had built around you. Of course, he had chosen to wear the tightest white tee-shirt so everyone could distinctively see each of his six, rock-hard abs. Of course, his sleeves were slightly rolled up to enhance his biceps and if you weren’t familiar with his despicable behavior, seeing him flex just so he could kiss the pumped-up mount irrupting from his upper arm like a fresh batch of popcorn on a stove, you could have barfed immediately at the disgusting sight of a man with an ego the size of a fucking comet.

For now, you simply rolled your eyes all the way to the back of your head and watched as he smiled cockily, his hand reaching out for a redhead girl’s cheek even though his eyes were most definitely undressing you from afar. You could tell the girl had dressed to impress as she was tightly wrapped into the just-slutty-enough version of Santa’s outfit. Basically a velvet red dress with a fluffy white strap on top of her bustier. The way she laughed and twirled her long curly strand of hair as she gazed lovingly at Tom was enough for you to know she would soon join the never-ending list of names on his score board.

Shaking your head at how easy it seemed for him to get laid within the first hour of a party, you made your way to the kitchen where the alcohol seemed to be. As expected, most students were already sipping at some questionable cocktail right from the bowl with a straw and since you didn’t feel like going straight for the strong stuff, you settled for a beer, fiddling with the bottle cap for a solid minute before you heard a voice coming from behind your back.

“Need some hand with that, sweetheart?”

The cocky tone and thick accent immediately sent you off as a long, single shiver ran down your spine from the disgusting thoughts it brought along. It had come to the point you couldn’t even stand his stupid voice.

“I’m fine, thanks” you lied, your first still tightly gripped on your sealed beverage.

“You look like you could use some strength…”

Of course, he had to bring up his impressive, spectacular strength within seconds. Maybe he expected you to slow clap, bow down or throw confetti’s all over him for being strong enough to open a beer bottle. What on Earth would you do without his strong, manly hands?

Grinding your teeth as your tongue clicked against your palate out of pure annoyance, you gave him the most unimpressed look as he grabbed the bottle from your hand, popping out the cap hard enough to make it fly off and hit the table with a soft, metallic thump. Smirking to himself, Tom handed you the bottle back, tilting his head as he obviously expected some enthusiastic reaction.

“Do you want a medal or something?”

“A simple ‘thank you’ would be a good start? “He mocked, raising his eyebrows in a way that made your consider throwing the entire bottle at his face to wash away his stupid cockiness.

“Thanks” you simply blurted out, raising your beer slightly before walking away as you took a couple sips. It wasn’t even that cold or remotely good.

Tom watched as you walked away in silence, his eyes inevitably drawn to the way your hips and that glorious ass of yours seemed to wiggle into that daunting skirt. Grazing his thumb over his bottom lip with a smirk, the eager flame in his eyes made his will to take you to a quiet place grow bigger with each step you took.

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The music was getting considerably louder as people were now dancing all over the place, from the staircase to whatever was left of furniture after too many parties hosted in this house.  The constant buzzing sound of chit-chats and laughter was slowly making your head spin as you gulped on your third (or was it the fourth?) Shot of tequila. As expected, Y/BFF/N had wasted no time as she was already clinging to Harrison’s neck, feasting on his mouth like an open buffet. His hands were on her bum, holding on to it for dear life with a strong grip. At least, she was having fun.

Out of boredom and to your own surprise, you had agreed on doing shots with a couple people you knew from class. Not technically what you’d call reliable friends but you always bumped into them at parties where you’d basically chat, and drink. From afar, you could see some people had gathered around a table where Team Jackass had started the inevitable beer pong contest. Nibbling at a piece of lime, hoping it would wash away the burning haze of the tequila, you winced at the sourness as your eyes suddenly locked with Tom’s. He was now holding his arms up on both side, raising one fist through the air as he had clearly won that first round. There was something pathetic about a man in his twenties begging for attention and acting like he was about to claim the gold medal at the Olympics when all he did was throw a feather-weighted plastic ball into a red cup.

All the alcohol in the world would never get you drunk enough to tolerate this guy.

Sometimes, you couldn’t help but think it was a shame to see him act so pitiful when he face was actually okay. Well. He was definitely cute as long as his mouth was shut and his stupid, pretentious smug out of the way. With his soft, chocolate brown eyes, his tousled eyebrows and thin pink lips, he could’ve been a guy you’d be interested in. His brown hair was somehow, always tucked into a snapback or a beanie but you had caught a glimpse of his natural curls once and though it killed you on the inside to admit it, he did look great when he didn’t try too hard to be a complete asshole.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t see him walk towards you.

“We’re doing shots now? “

“Impressive” you frowned, “did you figure it out all by yourself?” you chuckled, swallowing what’s left of lime, basically pulp, in one soft gulp.

“You like to act all smart ass around me, don’t you?”

“Correction: I am, in fact, smart… Not that it’s something you’re familiar with so, pardon me if it’s all too confusing for you… “

“Are you calling me dumb, then?” he was frowning now, his enormous self-centered head deflating under the unexpected pressure of your witty come-back.

“Did you hear the word ‘dumb’ coming out of my mouth?”

“No – but I sure know what I would like to see come in that sweet mouth of yours, darling”

The fact he had the nerves to say that kind of stuff right to your face was enough to piss you off but what caught you off guard was his hand reaching for your face as his thumb delicately grazed your bottom lip, pulling at it just enough for you to taste his fingertip.

“Surely, lime isn’t the only thing you like to suck on?” he smiled, cocky as ever as you could feel actual rage building up from your core and all the way to the back of your throat.

“I suggest you keep your hands off me” you snapped, pushing his hand off your face as he laughed to himself, the raspy sound caught in his throat making you throb against all odds.

“Or what? What you gonna do about it, uh?” he teased, confident as ever, his words coming out of his mouth halfway between a threat and a challenge. His arms were crossed against his chest now, making every inch of muscle he owned just pop out. There was nothing sweet about the way his body was built, and was he ever given the occasion, you knew he could break your spine in half with his one hand. You just wished you’d never thought about it as the filthiest images came to your mind, starting with Tom spinning you around over the sink in the bathroom and pinning you down with his palm pressed between your shoulder blades as he pounded hard and fast into you.

Maybe Tequila had gotten to your head faster than you expected.

“I know girls like you” he started, walking backwards until your back hit the wall and you were completely trapped between his arms, one of his leg parting yours so his knee would slowly graze that spot where your thighs met, claiming his access to that precious part of your body you could definitely feel getting damper against your will.

“What about it?” you asked, slightly more provocative than you had intended.

“You like to act all innocent, pretending you have higher standards…” His breath was warm, wrapped into the thickness of alcohol, curving a ball at the back of his throat so his voice would come out raspier and lower than usual, “… but secretly you just want guys like me to fuck the back of your throat until you choke”.

You felt it. Your pussy throb at the single thought of it. You didn’t want to physically react to these obscene images, words coming out of his mouth filthier than anything you’d ever heard, but still, as hard as you wanted to remain cold and unbothered, there was no denying for the dampness between your thighs. You just hoped he wouldn’t get a chance to notice it.

“You disgust me” it took you all the strength you had to spat back at him, and even then, all he did was smile then chuckle softly to himself as his hand slid up your throat, wrapping it slowly until his thumb pressed itself into the crook under your chin, nesting as it was made to be there.

“Please—are you really going to pretend you’ve never thought about my cock filling up your pretty mouth?” his fingers found your lips again, tracing it slowly as your heartbeat increased with each word, “like you’ve never thought about me when you finger yourself at night” he paused, pinching his bottom lip between his teeth as he tilted his head, his mouth coming closer to your hear with a dark whisper “I know you do, baby… I know you touch yourself thinking of me, wishing those fingers were mine, diving into your dripping cunt… Touching spots you could only wish you’d reach… how I would spread those lips open and run my tongue all over your slit….” A warm breeze brushed your neck as a cursed laugh escaped his lips, making you squirm unexpectedly, “I bet you taste so sweet, I would never get enough of that glorious pussy…”

By now, you were wrapped into the intoxicating scent of his cologne. It was strong and manly as expected, yet comforting in a way you didn’t want to think about. You didn’t want to picture yourself wearing that grey hoodie he loved to wear after a game, his perfume raining over your bare chest as you’d lazily ride him on his dorm bed after you’d get bored of whatever movie you’d settled for, pushing your panties to the side as he couldn’t be bothered taking it off completely. You didn’t want to picture him unzipping that same hoodie, palming your boob with one of his strong hands as his mouth sucked on your nipple until your soft, delicate skin turned red from all the biting marks. You didn’t want to feel yourself stretch around his rock-hard cock as he’d lift your legs up to wrap it around his neck, because he’s that kind of jerk who likes to show off even when he’s completely buried inside of you, that kind of complete asshole who loves to remind you just how deep he can go, smirking to himself as he hits your special spot over and over and over…. until you beg for him to stop. That kind of utterly disgusting dickhead who’d never stop, because he knows that, deep down, you just want him to keep going.

“Now you can tell me you’re not already wet… But we both know that’s a lie” he smiled again and as you felt his hand going down, palming you through your top and all the way down to the front of your skirt, you finally decided to come to your senses and grabbed his wrist into your tight fist, stopping him just in time before he’s reached the only approval he truly needed.

“Go to hell, Holland” you snapped, using all of your strength to push him off and walk away.

You didn’t turn back to see him chuckle at the sight of your flushed face.

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The coldness of water came as a shock as you bent over the sink in the bathroom, splashing your face until it didn’t feel like your skin was on fire. Grabbing a towel, you patted your cheeks and forehead, staring at the reflection in front of you. You definitely looked flustered, like you had just run a marathon when all you really did was to suffer through your archenemy’s evil little game.

Usually, you would have just brushed it off and that’d be it. But tonight, for some reason, you just couldn’t seem to shake him off your thoughts, his voice still echoing through your head like a curse without a cure. Outside the bathroom, you could hear the muffled sound of music and screams coming from the living room as beer-pong had turned into strip-pong with everyone removing a piece of clothes every time the ball missed the cup. Typical, drunken behavior. Soon enough these parties would turn into a massive orgy and it wouldn’t even come out as a big surprise.

Freshen up a little had helped you settle your thoughts back into place but still, your body didn’t seem to catch a break as the build-up tension and frustration Tom had caused within your core was yet to be released. There was no denying that your toys would have come handy if you were back to your dorm room as it felt like your pussy kept clenching for no reason, like the gaping mouth of the thirstiest man in the middle of a drought. You knew how bad you needed to put it out of its misery but if you thought undressing for a ping pong game was bad, what would happen if anyone walked on you literally fingering yourself in the bathroom of a frat-house? No one would shut up about it.

Tom would certainly not. Shut. Up. About. It. Ever.

You pressed your thighs together, hoping for some sort of relief as his words came back haunting you, thinking about how your hand had found its way between your legs earlier in the shower, the very second you had thought about his body pushing you up against the tiles. Is that what he was to you, now? A fantasy? Would you become another disgusting cliché of a girl begging for the typical frat boy to fuck her at a party because she couldn’t handle his dirty mouth?

Then you thought about your best-friend and how the last time you’d seen her, she was heading upstairs with Harrison, giggling, her lipstick smudged all over her chin after making out heavily on the couch up to the point everyone was starting to wonder whether they should be charged for that kind of peep-show or just roll with it. How she was probably getting fucked in his bedroom while you were standing alone in a bathroom, dripping wet for a man you hated down to the very bottom of your guts.

The door swung open abruptly, making you jump.

“So that’s where you’ve been hiding!” Tom smiled, walking in.

“Can’t a girl have some privacy?”

“I need to take a piss, you’re the one standing out there doing nothing” he joked, walking to the toilets with his hands already fiddling with the zipper of his pants.

“Hum, excuse me?” you spat, widening your eyes as you realized he was genuinely about to use the toilets with you still standing a few meters away.

“I said I needed to take a piss… So either you just stand there watching, which I don’t mind really… or you can get out?” he pointed his chin towards the door, unbothered as he casually pulled his dick out of his boxers.

Both infuriated and shocked, you turned around as there was no point leaving the room now that his whole junk was out and already halfway through it.

“Do you have to be that disgusting? Really you’re such a pig!” you complained as you heard him sigh with relief before the toilet flush broke the most awkward silence of your entire existence.

“Don’t worry darling, I’ll clean it up real nice just for you…” he smiled even though you still had your back turned to him. You heard him use the tap, washing his hands for a considerably long amount of time. At least he wasn’t one of those filthy rats who thought basic hygiene was optional.

“What were you doing by the way?” he finally asked, grabbing the towel to your left, “touching yourself thinking about me?”

You turned around to face his cocky face once more, this time with a furious need to slap it. Hard.

“You know I’ve seen you walking around campus a couple times, Y/N… Those big jumpers and yoga pants you like to wear don’t do that body any justice, but this?” he circled his finger in the air, pointing out her entire outfit “this, I like to see… and if you weren’t being a little brat I would gladly pull up that skirt up to your waist and have you there, above the sink…”

“I’m being a brat?” you scoffed. That was rich, coming from the ultimate king of bratty assholes.

“Well you call it whatever you like but denying yourself something you truly need just to prove a point seems a little childish…” he shrugged, shoving his hands into this jeans pocket and giving you a perfect glimpse at the veins running up his arms and disappearing underneath his rolled up sleeves.

“You think all girls are begging for you to fuck them? Really?”

“Probably, yeah, and who could blame them really? I have a great cock and I’ve never had a single bad review about the way I use it…” he smiled, with the arrogance of a king sitting on a throne of indecency.

“You’re so full of yourself… it’s insane” you shook your head with pure disgust.

“Then go ahead and prove it”

“Prove what, exactly?”

“That you’re not dripping wet as we speak…”

Point taken.

You were, indeed, dripping wet and soon enough, you’d have some serious explaining to do as the thin cotton fabric of your underwear was now soaked with your unsolicited arousal. Even though your head was filled with hateful thoughts and resentment for Tom, it felt like your body would not stop begging for his touch, dragging him closer like two pieces of magnets on a fridge. Unconsciously, you were now standing a couple inch away from his face, so close you could actually smell the soft mixt of menthol and alcohol from his breath. There was no point denying the obvious tension between you two as you looked like you were about to break into a passionate kiss but now it was just a fight between your will for self-preservation and your body, aching to be touched.

And so you heard yourself say these words you never thought you’d say, like you were standing in the audience as your other self was performing on stage, making some questionable decisions you weren’t 100% okay with.

“Which one’s your bedroom?”

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You could have fought longer, for the sake of your personal values, but as your feet were swiped off the ground, your back hitting the door as it closed behind you with a loud slam, all of your good sense and respectable choices just vanished as much filthier thoughts buried them for good.

Your legs were wrapped around his waist as his hands had wasted no time and found their way under your top, fondling your breast with the hunger of a wolf. Your lips attached to his, you moaned louder than expected as he pushed himself a little harder against you, the obvious stiffness of his crotch pressing against your aching core. Your skirt had risen up to your waist from spreading your legs a little too wide, flashing your white panties as it was now so soaked you could definitely see the outline of your lips, the thin fabric sticking to your slit. Catching your breath, heavy pants breaking your kiss, you looked into Tom’s eyes only to see nothing but pure, absolute lust in them. As you tugged at his brown locks, a couple strand curling slightly at the back of his neck, you watched as his snapback fell to the floor with a thump, unleashing his brown untamed mane.

Suddenly, he didn’t seem so bad, groaning slightly as your fingers scrapped the back of his neck, your lips sucking on his throat for good measures. With his head tilted back slightly, it felt like Tom was getting soft for a while, caving in so you could take control over him. Unfortunately, that didn’t last long as he suddenly traced a hand all the way down to your inner thigh, immediately pushing your panties to the side with his middle finger.

“I knew it…” he smiled, sliding his finger along your slit as you wrapped it up with a glistening coat of arousal. You knew he had won the minute he felt just how wet you were for him, but when it should have been upsetting, you just didn’t care. All you needed now was to feel his cock filling you up in any way he wanted, “who made you this wet, darling?” he smiled, pulling at your bottom lip with his teeth.

“Don’t be a brat…” you complained as you could see some mischief in the way he looked at you.

“Just say it” he insisted “I want to hear you say out loud just how wet I make you” this wasn’t a request, but an order. And for some obscure reason you didn’t want to figure out, it somehow turned you on even more.

“You…” you started, biting your lip out of nerves, or out of excitement, you weren’t sure quite yet. “You make me so wet, Tom” you almost moaned, pushing yourself a little harder against his hand when he failed to give you exactly what you needed. His fingers. Buried deep inside of you.

“Hmm” Tom groaned, two of his digits spreading your lips apart at a torturing slow pace, “I like the sound of that…” his knuckles were barely halfway when you buckled your hips off the door, begging for more, “what’s that darling? Tell me what you want…” he was whispering by now, slowly pushing his fingers into your desperate slit, “I want to hear you beg for it…”

You felt him push deeper, curving his fingers into a hook every time he reached your g-spot. By now you were so aroused you just knew it would take you more than a couple stroke to cum heavily into his awaiting palm. You could hear the sloppy sound of your own wetness every time he slammed his slick, extremely skilled digits back into your throbbing pussy. His lips curved into a hasty smile as he could feel you literally drip all over his palm and wrist.

“I want you… I want you so much” you barely managed to whimper as he increased the pace, his wrist working its magic between your thighs.

“Hmm hmm? I’m gonna need you to be more specific baby… what exactly do you want?” his thumb grazed your clit for a brief second and that was enough for you to squeal under his touch, making you clench suddenly around his fingers, “say you want my cock” he almost growled as you felt his hard-on twitch against your thigh, begging to be freed.

“I want your cock” you immediately wimped, your own words sending shivers down your spine as you twitched with anticipation, “I want it so, so bad…”

“Good girl…” he hummed, slowing down the pace so he could add a third finger, stretching you out slightly this time, “d’you think you can take it though? It’s pretty big…” he smiled, twisting his hand just enough so he could dig himself a path.

You simply nodded, unable to speak anymore, but as you were about to beg for more, Tom removed his hand, leaving you frustrated and hornier than ever. His face changed suddenly as he watched you pout, his hand reaching up for your lips.

“What about that pretty mouth, then? You think it may fit?” he smiled, spreading your lips apart so you could taste yourself on his soaked fingers. You immediately obliged, sucking at it, one by one, never keeping your eyes off him. When he shoved three of his digits, watching as your tongue twirled around it, cleaning it off completely, you could definitely tell his eyes had gotten darker, filled with unspeakable thoughts you would be begging to hear soon.

“You’re gonna let me fuck that pretty face?” he added, removing his fingers from your mouth so he could give you a soft, cheeky slap on the cheek. You nodded, obedient as ever. “Say it” he commanded, louder this time, “say you want my cock inside your mouth”.

“I want it… I want your cock inside my mouth” you pouted, only because you knew he loved to see you beg like a spoiled little princess. You’d seen it in his eyes, the way he looked at you every time you tilted your head to fake an innocence that was long gone.

Tom stepped back, walking away slowly as he watched you standing there, flustered, your hair all over the place, panting out of lust and frustration. Pulling his shirt off, you watched as his impressive chest unveiled in front of you. Abs like rocks, a thin strand of hair tracing a path from his navel to his crotch, disappearing under his jeans, his impeccable V-line bringing images you never thought you had within yourself. As he pushed his hair back, daunting you with his a look half way between arrogance and disdain, it felt like all signs of dignity had left your brain as all you could think about was to crawl to the floor and beg for his cock.

“What you’re waiting for then, Darling?” he smiled, unzipping his flies as he watched you walk towards him and get on your knees within seconds.

Your hands pulled at his jeans until it finally pooled around his ankles. Looking up to stare into his eyes, you felt both small and powerful, submissive but in control as you were now responsible for this man pleasure. It was up to you whether he’ll get to cum or not. But as you considered edging him as an option, Tom wasted no time in remembering you who was actually in charge.

“Are you gonna be a good girl for me?” he sighed, grabbing your hair into a fist as his other hand stroked his cock through the cotton fabric of his boxers. You could tell he was just horny as you were as a couple pre-cum had already stained his briefs, turning it into a darker shade of grey.

Again, you nodded, removing his hand so you could replace it with yours, palming him through his briefs as he growled against your touch. He was big. Actually much bigger than you expected but somehow, you were up for a challenge. Tracing the outline of his cock with your fingers tips, you felt him push his hands on the back of your head, forcing you to come closer to his crotch.

“I want to fuck your pretty little mouth so, so bad” he groaned as you unexpectedly ran your tongue all over his stiff through the fabric, feeling it twitch as you palmed his balls. By now he was so hard you could feel the veins tracing a dirty road up to his leaking head as Tom started grinding slowly against your mouth, messing up your hair with his desperate fists.

When you pulled down his boxers, you took a couple seconds to stare at his glorious manhood, hard and pressed against his abdomen where it curved slightly, your mouth watering with a thirst you could have never pictured, especially when standing in Tom Holland’s bedroom. And yet, you couldn’t wait to have this magnificent piece of flesh filling up your mouth.

“Like what you see?” Tom smirked, boasting as ever but immediately squinting his eyes with a deep growl the minute he felt your tongue licking at the base, slowly going up until you finally bobbed on his creaming head.

You had always been good at this, giving head. Not that all of your partners would give you a proper review in the morning, pointing out your highs and lows, but there were just things men couldn’t do, like hiding the fact they were just having the time of their lives. And right now, Tom actually looked like there was nowhere else in the world he would rather be than standing here, with his cock in your mouth.

Twirling your hand at the base where you mouth couldn’t go just yet, you started bobbing up and down his shaft, sucking your cheeks in so your mouth would pop every time his dick came out. You had quickly figured out a couple things about Tom, including the fact he just seemed to love it dirty and noisy. You could actually hear him growl louder, his fist tightening its grip into your hair every time he slipped off your lips, only for him to shove it back a little harder and definitely deeper with each thrust.

“That’s it baby… Just like that… you’re such a good girl…”

You were a good girl, indeed. Always had been. Straight-A’s student from day one, the pride and joy of your parents, spending most of your week-ends doing some volunteer work whenever it was needed while being a caring, polite girl who never did anything wrong. Right choices only.

Or so you thought. Obviously, tonight would be always marked as the only questionable decision on your impeccable path to perfection. But still, as Tom grabbed your face with both hands to push himself deeper and all the way down your throat, making you gasp for air slightly, you had no regrets.

You stayed still for as long as your lungs could handle it, holding on to his firm, muscular buttocks as you swallowed him all. Looking down on you, Tom was left speechless as his cock stretched your cheeks out, his balls resting into your palm as you twitched them slowly, making it jolt with both pain and pleasure. When you felt like you were about to gag, you pushed yourself back, gasping for air as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. Your cheeks felt numb and yet it missed the feeling of being stretched out already.

“Hmmm baby look at you…. you think you’re ready for it?”

“Yeah” was all you could blurt out. Yes to anything he wanted. You were prepared. You longed for it.

Looking around as Tom started pumping himself, getting ready for you, spitting into his palm to lube himself up so your lips wouldn’t drag along his shaft too much, you just couldn’t believe you were there, kneeling on the navy carpet of Tom Holland’s bedroom, the epitome of the ultimate frat boy. A huge flag from his favorite sports team was hanging above his bed, his never-ending hats collection sitting on wooden shelves by the wall like it was some kind of “frat boy starter pack” Art exhibition. In the corner of the room, you caught an unexpected glimpse at a guitar. It looked fairly new, but never in a million years would you have pictured Tom playing guitar. On his desk, his laptop was still open on a Spotify tab where you’d probably find a playlist based on some typical white boy rap music but against all odds, the room looked neat compared to what you had in mind.

“You look so beautiful” he sighed, out of nowhere, and to be completely honest, had your mouth not been filled with his dick, you would have probably picked up your jaw from the floor. Taking him all in once more, you just pretended you couldn’t hear, sparing you some awkward misunderstanding. Maybe those words were actually directed to his dick. After all, the boy loved himself just that much.

His hands were all over your face, wiping tears from your eyes every time he hit the back of your throat a little too hard, stroking your cheeks, massaging the back of your neck, roaming through your tangled hair as your kept up with his reckless pace, his hips swinging back and forth while you remained completely still so you could take him like a champ.

“God, I love to see you choke on my cock….” He gritted through his teeth “so…so hot…” you could tell he was getting sloppier now, pumping in and out of your mouth abruptly then a lot more slower as a couple twitch from his cock gave you a hint of his upcoming grand finale.

By now, you were a slippery mess, the taste of pre-cum hitting your throat as you dribbled all over his shaft, obscene sounds of suction coming out of your mouth every time he pushed himself out and back in all over again.

“F----uuuuck….fuck baby I’m gonna come!” he grunted, the sudden high-pitch of his broken voice driving you insane as you pushed yourself up a little so you could open your mouth wider, expecting him to fill it up soon enough. “D’you want me to cum in your mouth? Uh?” again, he gave you a little slap on the cheek, not quite hard enough for you to feel any pain. You nodded, moaning whatever came close to a “yes” as every single inch of your mouth was filled with Tom.

You heard him whimper, twitching a couple times, harder with his thrust as his hand fisted into your hair abruptly throughout his climax. Looking up to see his face, your eyes locked with his as he came all over your tongue, raining down your throat with a couple last, sloppy thrusts.

“Oh fuck! Fuck fuck fuck fuuu------“

Your eyes immediately teared up as you tried your best to swallow every drop of cum he had to give, the corner of your lips dripping like an overflowing sink.

Then there was a complete silence.

As you wiped your mouth off the thick, warmness of his cum, you felt him kneel to your side, then sit. Both of you looked completely exhausted, drained from every ounce of energy you had left.

“Well, that wasn’t half bad… for a little brat” he spoke again, and you just couldn’t believe he had gathered the energy to say this when he could have chosen silence.

Laughing quietly to yourself so you wouldn’t slap him across the face, you decided not to fuel him up and remained quiet instead. His hair had gone curlier than heaver, his glistening red face making him look like any cute boy you could easily fall for.

“I’ve got a feeling we’re gonna see a lot more of you at frat parties now?” he spoke again, and though it truly pissed you off to admit it, you just knew this wasn’t a one-time thing. For all you knew, this, was barely a prequel to a long, bumpy story of a good girl gone bad.

All because of Tom-fucking-Holland.

[skellebonez]

(kicks door down) INVERTED AU WITH PROMPT 72, SPECIFICALLY WITH MK

I’m not going to write out the ENTIRE TikTok so just. Watch an enjoy the madness that is B Dylan Hollis. It will make this fill so much more entertaining.

Don’t you dare.

Had it not been even a few weeks ago things would be almost completely on their normal “regular day with no special plans” schedule. Wake up, work, hang out with Pigsy and Tang, get Mei to have some fun, run off to Mount Huaguo for training with Sun Wukong, make sure the immortal Monkey King is taking care of himself, go home and sleep (a few gaps between each in case he needed to chuck a water bottle or granola bar at any of his friends and make sure they weren’t overworking themselves and if he came across anyone who needed his special brand of, as Macaque once called it, “aggressive self care affection”).

But no. Oh no. This was not a few weeks ago.

This was now, not even a month after the Lunar New Year Festival. Not even a month after he was finally introduced to the rest of Spider Queen’s family- plus one not so accidental addition who had decided it would be a fantastic idea to experiment on himself for funsies and “oops all spiders”.

Said addition stood, or rather half stood and half reclined on the mechnical legs protruding from his back, diligently typing away at his computer. The same computer he hadn’t stepped away from except to take a shower earlier in the day.

17 hours ago.

“Syntax,” MK said with the most gentle warning tone he could muster... which, to anyone unfamiliar with MK would sound like he spoke the human turned spider demon’s name like a threat. “Please tell me you have eaten more than a single calorie bar today.”

“I have eaten more than a single calorie bar today,” the scientist assured with a barely thrown over his shoulder smile in the younger man’s direction.

“Ok g-”

“I ate 2.”

The proud look on Syntax's face, as if he had figured out the loophole to end all loopholes, was a stark contrast to MK's expression of angry horror.

"You can't just eat TWO CALORIE BARS, Syntax!" He shouted, grabbing the scientist by his lab coat sleeve before starting to drag him out of the laboratory. If anyone was there to witness this they would find this feat impressive given how Syntax dug his mechanical legs into the floor in protest.

"I have survived on these so far and I will conti-"

"Survived, yeah, as a human," MK noted as he realized the other was simply allowing him to lead him along without a fight in the least. "But you're a spider demon... cyborg... guy now, you need more sustenance than that. And you needed more before!"

"3 bars?"

"NO MORE OF THE FUCKING BARS!"

The moment Syntax shrunk back in reaction to MK’s yelling the Monkie Kid took his chance and gripped the scientist’s sides and tossed the man over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes before breaking out into a sprint down the halls of Spider Queen’s lair.

“Don’t you dare!” Syntax yelped, attempting to free his arms or move his spider legs but gave up on the later and instead retracted them out of fear he might accidentally harm his captor. “I have work to finish, young man!”

“You can’t finish if you die of malnutrition, I’m teaching you how to cook!”

As they ran toward the entrance they passed Spider Queen who, upon realizing what was happening, gave them a calm wave and a smile.

“Make sure to have him back in time for you to get home before dark, MK!”

“EVEN MY QUEEN IS BETRAYING ME!”

~

Syntax eventually gave in. After all, despite his new enhancements he was still no match for the sheer strength of the Monkey King himself in the hands of a very determined young man with a hard line stance on self care.

And somehow this man decided he should be deposited in... his kitchen.

In front of a phone set up like... a camera.

Huh.

“Uh-”

“Hold that thought!” MK said, positioning Syntax just out of sight as he grabbed a cook book and hit record. “A bean PIE from the 1920s! Today we’re doing something different-” he reached over and grabbed Syntax’s arm, pulling him into frame without even a single change in his expression. “Today I have an assistant because SOMEONE doesn’t know how to EAT NUTRITION and needs more Vitamin B.”

As he let go of the scientist’s arm he turned to him, face as serious as a miscalculated formula when a project was due in 1 hour.

“OK, you’re the science dude. Let me tell you something from experience,” MK grabbed the cook book, holding it up. “Cooking IS science. And this science insists that BEANS can be made into a PIE which I think is bullshit and I am going to prove on camera. Until you learn how to eat things that aren’t instant bars, you are going to join me on my cooking science experiments. Understood?”

Truth me told, Syntax didn’t see the appeal in cooking. It was far too much hassle for something as basic as nutritional supplements you could acquire from far easier means that did not involve making a mess you had to clean up later... but...

The idea that cooking could be a science... that he had never considered before. And MK seemed to be pretty well convinced that he was correct in this assertion. This was part of why Syntax had, for a while now, considered reaching out to him with an offer of becoming his assistant. His tenacity and determination was something that was a great asset in the field of scientific discovery after all! And well...

If making a weird pie could get him into the young man’s good graces...

“Where do we start?”

~

MK held up a bowl of beans to the camera. “Now these took a long bath last night-” he turned to Syntax. “-I’ll splice in some footage from earlier here later-TIME TO COOK EM!”

~

“The pot,” Syntax noted, pointing to the pot on MK’s stove that had begun to over boil.

“AAGH!” MK yelped, sliding over from where he was grabbing his mixer. “BEAN REBELLION!”

~

“Eggie,” MK chuckled out, cracking an egg into the mixing bowl with the rest of the ingredients.

“How many eggs does it call for?” Syntax asked, trying to make sense out of the madness he was being witness to.

“How many? I don’t know, it just says EGGS.” MK gestured to the cookbook before them as if it has just insulted Pigsy himself to MK’s face.

~

“FORE!” MK yelled, closing his eyes and turning on the blender as Syntax held a frying pan in front of himself in preparation for disaster.

And disaster came... just not in the way either expected, as the blender sputtered and just.... stopped.

“... did you just kill my blender?” MK turned the knob on it, shaking it and tapping it gently. “HELLO?”

He shook it harder, twisting and turning the knob on the front wildly before he broke down into laughter. “THE BEANS KILLED MY BLENDER.” MK crossed his arms on the counter, laying his head down on them as he devolved into equally amused and annoyed cackles. “This has never happened before, how the hell!?”

“Well...” Syntax looked around, finding an induction blender sitting half buried on the opposite side of the counter. “Will this work?”

~

Finally. After waiting for the pie to bake. It was done.

A piece sat on a plate before both men, looking both intimidating and somehow delectable at the same time. But both were well away this concoction was primarily sugar, cinnamon, and BEANS. They looked at each other for a moment before nodding, each taking a fork full of the pit before shoving it into their mouths expecting the worst.

MK looked at Syntax as they chewed. Then the camera. Then he started to laugh through his bite as Syntax’s face went on a journey from “this tastes good” to “HOW THE FUCK DOES THIS TASTE GOOD”.

“Nothing makes sense anymore,” he moaned, gesturing to the pie slice before him as he began to laugh in disbelief.

“WHY ARE YOU GOOD?” Syntax asked, shaking his plate slightly. “You have a bag of BEANS in you!”

MK laughed harder, needing to put his plate on the counter as he needed to hold his sides from the pain of trying not to laugh louder than he was.

“This is like if tomato soup made a cake that tasted like chocolate!”

“I-It!” MK wheezed, holding up one hand to get the scientist’s attention. “It has!”

“I’M SORRY- WHAT!?”

~

“Yes? Oh, that’s fine dear! Yes, as long as he has somewhere to sleep and I know where he is- ... yes, we would love to try some when you escort him home tomorrow! Thank you, take care now,” Spider Queen said, smiling as she hung up the cell phone that Pigsy and Tang had no kindly helped her acquire.

“So, uh...” Huntsman asked, rubbing the back of his neck in concern and confusion. “What’s up?”

“Syntax will be spending the evening with MK!” She announced, smiling wide. “He’s taken up an interest in baking, apparently. Something about needing to unlock the secrets of tomato soup and beans.”

[flameohotwife]

Okay, #41 for the fluff prompt!! (I feel so powerful, hahaha!)

41. "Darling, I love you and all but please step out of the kitchen."

This turned... long! And sad-ish in parts, so I'm sorry! Maybe more hurt/comfort? But there is still fluff. I hope you enjoy!

Rated T. 2.2k words.

“Aang? Have you seen the dumpling pan?” Katara was crouched down, head and shoulders deep in the cupboard, looking for the right pan to crisp the dumplings she was planning on making for dinner. Her husband was flitting about, albeit slower than he once could, on the other side of the kitchen with what she assumed were fruit pie ingredients for dessert. The original Team Avatar were travelling to Air Temple Island from all over the world in a few hours to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the war ending, and their 50th anniversary together. They always tried to get together the week they’d met in Ba Sing Se at the Jasmine Dragon to remember what they’d lost, and to see how far they’d come. Though Aang and Katara hadn’t gotten married until several years after the war, they always counted that day on the balcony as their anniversary, as the only thing that had truly changed with their marriage was the world’s recognition of their relationship and its permanence. They were devoted and dedicated from the very beginning. Perhaps even before that.

“Oh, I’ve got it over here, Sweetie,” Aang called back to her. She jumped up, almost bashing her head on the top of the cupboard before wriggling properly out to stand and face him. Even in his old age he still maintained a certain twinkle in his eye when he was up to something, and Katara’s hands flew to her hips when she saw it.

“What are you doing with my dumpling pan?” she asked, warily.

“I thought I’d cook tonight,” Aang replied, though his hand rubbed the tattoo on the back of his neck tellingly. “I wanted to add some Air Nomad dishes to the menu. Sokka will be bringing some Water Tribe food already, Toph and Suki will have Earth Kingdom, and Zuko and Mai will bring Fire Nation… I just thought I’d add something of my own in.”

Katara’s throat caught for a moment, as it always did when she remembered. His loss always felt bigger on anniversaries, though his grief was an ever-present emotion. It rose and fell like the tides, but was always there, under the surface. Most people saw his smiling face and kind, loving spirit and forgot that there were only two airbenders in the world and why. That Aang had actually known and loved so many of the ones Sozin had murdered. He masked his pain well, but took that mask off around Katara from time to time, when he needed to.

“Sweetie,” she began, stepping forward to grasp his wrinkled hands. “Oh Aang, I was going to make Air Nomad food, too. I would never leave you out like that.” Her tone wasn’t defensive, only calm and reassuring, as she rubbed gentle circles on the blue arrows that adorned the backs of his hands with her thumbs. She wanted to remind him with her touch that his grief didn’t have to be his alone to bear. That she would remember his people with him. Just as she had taught their children old Air Nomad fairytales when they were small, and celebrated their holidays with him, and learned to cook their food. Katara was Water Tribe through and through, but her soul was bound to an Air Nomad. Moreover, she was bound to Aang, and she always felt his loss. Even when he hid it well.

Aang melted into her, then. A hug that was so deeply meaningful it was reminiscent of the one they’d shared on Iroh’s balcony, but with all the weight of his pain crushing down on them along with that promise of love and acceptance. It was as though through this hug she was able to share that weight with him, so she held him tighter. Half a century after learning about the deaths of his people, sometimes the wound still felt fresh, and Katara was always the healing balm to whatever ailed him, even when she knew she could never heal it completely.

Katara stroked his back lovingly with one arm as he clung to her. She waited for his breathing to even out, for his muscles to relax. Waited for a sign that she had taken enough of his grief that he could function again. Finally, he moved his head to kiss her sweetly. It was wet, and salty, but his movements were lighter again. She moved her hands to his face, wiping his tears as she pulled him closer, and he deepened the kiss, wrapping his arms fully around her waist and pressing against her.

“Thank you,” he whispered. He knew his grief was never hers to bear, and yet she did so willingly and with so much love. He could never thank her enough for the way she cared for him when he hit his lowest points. He wasn’t sure he could have made it without her. Sometimes the weight on his shoulders was so heavy he felt like he would sink without her unending love and support buoying him up, keeping him afloat.

“You’re not alone, Sweetie. Never.” Katara continued to caress his face as she looked into his sparkling, sad eyes.”Do you want me to help? I can make the dumplings and the butter tea. I never quite mastered the tofu but I could try if you want…”

Aang silenced her with another kiss. “You’re wonderful,” he said, pressing his lips to hers again. “The best wife, partner, and friend in existence.” Yet another kiss. “I think I’ve got it from here. Why don’t you take a break before everyone gets here?”

Katara laughed, not quite knowing what to do with herself. She reluctantly removed her hands from her husband and settled on making herself some tea and sitting at the kitchen table to observe him. Even though he was aging, Katara still enjoyed watching him when she had a moment, whether it was bending practice, or working hard on something, or even something as simple as cooking. She still appreciated the lithe way his body moved, the smooth, airy motions he made, the way his tongue stuck out when he was concentrating…

She sat back in her chair, grinning over her teacup as she watched him chop vegetables and boil water and roll dough. Sometimes observing him do the most trivial things—like cooking dinner for friends, or braiding their daughter’s hair when she was small, or working in the garden—reminded her how lucky she was to have him in her life. He was the Avatar after all. He could have maids and cooks and servants and never lift a domestic finger in his life, but that was never in Aang’s nature. And he could have chosen anyone as his companion, but he had always and only ever chosen her. Over and over. It was somehow both humbling and assuring all at once.

After some time, she rose from her seat, walking behind him to wrap her arms around him, reveling in his warmth. She couldn’t see the smile on Aang’s face, but she knew it was there when he pressed one arm over her interlocking ones, squeezing lightly with his hand.

She leaned up to press a light kiss to the back of his neck.

“You’re awfully distracting, you know,” Aang chided. He turned in her arms to peck her on the nose. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. It’s been a while since I’ve gotten to watch you cook. I forgot how much I enjoy it.” She gave him a very pointed look and he laughed heartily.

“Well, by all means, enjoy the show,” he said, wiggling his hips for her benefit as he extricated himself from her grip to keep working. Katara giggled. She was about to return to her seat when she noticed the clutter Aang was leaving in the kitchen as he worked, and decided to help him by tackling some of that so he could focus on the food.

When Katara cooked, she was very methodical. Every ingredient, pot, pan, and chopstick had its place, and was immediately returned to that place when she had finished with it. She knew if she didn’t keep up with the mess as she worked, it would pile up to the point that she would feel overwhelmed at the end, so she tidied continually. Aang, on the other hand, was much more impulsive in his cooking. He would think of an ingredient to add mid-stir, and leave the remnants on the counter, never quite sure if he might want to add more later. He would wait to clean up all the messes at once.

There was a time in their marriage where this had driven Katara crazy. The kids were still very young at the time, and the extra mess on top of the cacophony of kid-sounds and clutter and Momo swooping around the house would become too much, so she would constantly buzz around him, taking things and washing and putting them away before he was even finished with them. He would turn around for more of an ingredient and find it wrapped up in the icebox. More than once, he had had to take Katara by the shoulders, kiss her gently, and exclaim, “Darling, I love you and all, but please step out of the kitchen.”

Now, much like in other parts of their relationship, she had learned which parts of the mess to let be, and which ones she could handle that would actually help him. She sat up with him at night while he transcribed ancient Air Nomad texts and histories; her presence a comfort as he worked through it all and felt the loss more keenly. Tenzin joined him now, of course, when he was home, but Aang still felt more able to work through his grief when she stayed too. When they were younger, she had sewn Air Nomad clothes for Aang and for the acolytes, and eventually taught the acolytes to make them herself not because Aang couldn’t sew or teach them, but because it was one of the things that they both could do. Something that she could take off of his already over-heaped plate.

They balanced each other. He was her rock on full-moon nights or when she missed her parents or when her emotional storm was raging. He was her center of calm when she was worried about the kids or about the world. But today, Aang needed her. So she washed the used dishes for him to use again if needed, and cleared the wrappings for him, being sure to leave the ingredients on the counter. She made sure to give him gentle touches as they worked; a hand to the small of his back as she passed him, a bump of the hip as they worked side by side. Loving smiles and stolen kisses as the afternoon sun fell lower in the sky.

Eventually their friends would arrive and they would be able to laugh and joke and remember together. There would be group hugs and arm-punches and happy sounds and smells would fill their home as they reminisced. Through all of it, Aang would sneak looks across the table at Katara, with a special smile reserved for her. Fifty years! They’d made it fifty years together, in no small part because of everything they had learned through their struggles as they grew together. Because of the weights and grief they shared with one another instead of bearing them alone.

“I may be old, Twinkletoes, but I can still feel your heartbeat when you look at Sugarqueen like that,” Toph jabbed as Aang snuck another glance at his wife. “How can you two be together for fifty years and still act as disgusting as when we were teenagers? I’m not going to have to pull you out of a linen closet at the official event tomorrow, am I? Because we are all too old for that.”

Knowing that she still sent his heart a-flutter the way he did to her warmed Katara’s old bones from head to toe, and she sent a look of her own towards her husband. Aang’s face reddened.

“Oh, no,” groaned Sokka. “Oogies! I’m out.” He rose from the table, pulling Suki along with him. “Dinner was great guys, and I’d like to keep it in my stomach, thanks. So, we’ll see you all in the morning when the kids get here?”

“Sounds good,” replied Zuko as he and Mai rose to join them. “We should probably turn in anyway. It’s getting late.” Aang and Katara stood as well to accompany their guests to the door before everyone went their separate ways.

“Thanks for a wonderful evening as always, guys,” Suki added as she hugged them both goodbye. “Try not to wear yourselves out too much tonight, hmm? It’s not as easy to recover as it used to be and we have a busy day tomorrow.”

Katara feigned shock at her sister-in-law’s tease but Aang only blushed further as Sokka faked retching and promptly exited with their friends. Aang was always so open about his emotions and intentions when it came to Katara, whether or not he intended to be. She simply smirked back up at him and took him by the hand, waving to everyone one last time before pulling him back to their bedroom. And, maybe they were a little extra tired the next day, but it was worth it. Loving each other through the many ups and downs of a lifetime together would always be worth it. Even when Toph berated them for it outside a linen closet door.

[bubbleteaimagines]

Allo Can I be blessed with some Porco headcanons with a female reader whose from Paradise ;;c;; Both fluff angst n smut >~< Thank uu

Porco dating someone from Paradis Island

Porco Galliard Headcanon

Warnings: NSFW Content

ALSO SPOILERS!! IF YOU HAVENT READ THE MANGA!! I REPEAT SPOILERS!!

when you and porco first met, neither of you knew of the others identity

porco had just gotten back from war and you were there to infiltrate marley for information

in fact, you both seemed to be running from who were supposed to be, just wanting a break from your destinies

this caused you both to somehow end up by the ocean one day, just when the sun was setting

you had been sitting close to the shore, the water lapping at your feet when all of a sudden a voice caught your attention

“hey—! wha—! you’re not supposed to be here!”

not expecting for anyone to actually be down there that time of night, you quickly whipped around with alarm in your eyes

“w-whose there?” you ask nervously, terrified that you were gonna get caught and your cover was gonna be blown

after all, levi had specifically forbid you from wandering off

“the tickle monster— who the hell do you think? no citizens are supposed to—”

when porco finally came into the light and he saw you sitting there, eyes wide as your sundress blew in the wind, he was immediately taken aback

not only were you trespassing, but you were also...different

whether it was your skin, your eyes, or just simply the fact that he had never seen you before, porco was astonished

“i-i’m sorry! please don’t tell! i didn’t mean to, i—”

“hey, hey,” immediately his entire demeanor changed. “don’t worry, i’m not gonna tell. how could i rat out a beautiful lady like yourself?”

from that day forwards, you both were gone

you began to see each other again and again and again, at first just by pure coincidence, but then it soon became intentionally

porco would purposely seek out the pretty girl wearing pretty dresses, and you’d sometimes linger in the marketplace to see if he’d be there

it wasn’t long before you two began hanging out

porco asked to accompany to the beach again and since he was a high ranking eldian he was allowed there

of course, he didn’t tell you that

both of you kept your identies a firm secret, but neither of you knew

you just thought that maybe he was a high ranking soldier and he assumed that you were marleyan bc you didn’t wear an armband

you and porco became extremely close and it wasn’t long before a relationship blossomed

porco was horrible at being romantic, but he tried, he really did try for you

he’d bring you flowers, buy you little things of chocolate bc he knew it was your favorite

he’d try to leave you little love letter in the morning and it’d absolutely melt your heart

he’d spoil you and use his status to take you to the finest restaurants in liberio

sometimes when you were out people would recognize porco, but he’d always keep the interactions brief

when it came to porco, you probably didn’t know much about him

he was kinda closed off, and he wanted to seem strong to you so he never shared much

but that was okay— what he did share was enough for you

when it came to you though, he’d want to know all about you

he could stay up for hours listening to you explain your childhood, leaving out the parts where you were really from

he’d love knowing about you and would hold you close, often falling asleep to your stories

really, porco was a gentle yet protective lover

he could be extremely jealous and it translated into the bedroom

sex with him was rough, with porco being the dominant most of the time

he loved to mark you and degrade you, wanting you to scream out who exactly you belonged to

he’d pound you into the mattress and tell you what a good little slut you were and then he’d make you cum all over him

afterwards, he’s not much for aftercare lol but at least he’d hold you?

if he fell for you quickly then he’d probably introduce you to pieck

and she would LOVE you, thinking how it was cute that porco was so mean to everybody else but so soft around his girl

he likes touching you, that’s for sure

always has an arm slung around you

in all honesty, he’d be an amazing boyfriend and uwu but you know it’s not gonna last...

technically, you and porco were doomed from the start

he was lying to you about who he was, liking the fact that you loved him, not the jaw titan, ‘marley hero.’

you were lying to him, not even from marley and an island devil that they seemed to hate

your love came to a boiling point, eventually

when you both found out who the other truly was, both you and porco were shocked— like hella shocked

you were on the battlefield, defending eren when all of a sudden you spotted porco and pieck from up above

you wanted to scream and abandon everything right then and there, to tell them both to get the hell out of there

but then,,, porco looked up and saw you using ODM gear, wearing the same suit as the people attacking marley

his eyes widened, not even believing it as betrayal and anger seeped through his veins

“y/n!”

you’d be so terrified to face him

you’d probably break down crying and explain that you hadn’t meant for it to be this way— you didn’t mean to lie and yes, you truly did love porco

but then,,, you’d be exposed to his own little secret

as marley soliders began shooting at you, yelling at you to get away from the warriors, porco would suddenly scoop you up and transform to shield you from their bullets

everybody, including your comrades, was absolutely dumbfounded to see him throw you on his back and run away with you

and you’d be literally frozen, not even believing this was happening

“what...the...fuck...”

porco kept you safe during the entire battle, up until he decided to take eren on

you couldn’t lie, even though your relationship was probably gonna be in shambles after that it hurt so bad to see him just laying there, not even knowing if he was alive

you tried to find out, you tried to go towards him and yank him out of his titan but jean swooped in and tackled you at the last second

you were a crying mess but he held you, kicking and screaming and all, not letting go until you were safely on the plane

“jean, please! you guys don’t understand — i have to go back! i have to see—!”

“i’m sorry, y/n, but this is for the best. you have to let go, you may never see him again.”

for the next few months, or years that you were separated from porco, you’d be a hollow mess

It’d take some time for you to forgive him, and him you

for the longest he stayed on marley, bitter and cursing your name

cursing himself for falling in love with an island devil

he hated you, he wanted to kill you...only...he didn’t

deep down porco knew that he still loved you

and he carried that love everywhere with him, even if it tore him apart inside

he was stuck between wanting to be in your arms again and wanting to be loyal to marley

after finding out where you were from, he’d have so much rage and so many questions

you were a devil, yes, but...were you?

you were so sweet and compassionate and kind...how could you be?

you were the exact opposite of what porco had been taught

you weren’t a devil...marley had lied

they had lied and filled him with all this hatred for people he didn’t even know

it infuriated him, and it saddened him that he couldn’t be with you all because he was brainwashed

for the time that you were apart, porco was a mess

he hardly looked alive anymore, only thinking about you day and day out

he longed for the day he’d see you again

and when he did—

all hell was breaking loose, AGAIN

marley was declaring war on paradis

there were people everywhere, titans ranging about, eren being...eren

you of course were on the front lies, just trying to survive when you suddenly spotted him

could it be? no...

you didn’t wanna believe it at first

you couldn’t

you only stared at porco’s scrunched up face in shock, not moving despite that being incredibly dangerous

likewise, porco was shocked to see you there, alive and once again fighting for paradis

it felt just like the first time, but this time you both had months to prepare your words

and the first thing you said to each other?

“i’m sorry.”

the words shocked both you and porco even further, but it felt...right

“y/n...i’m so sorry i—”

“please, pock i should be the one to apologize. i lied, i know i did. but i—”

“i lied too. we both did. guess that’s why we were made for each other,” porco chuckled humorously, you nodding in agreement

for a moment, you both just stood there looking at each other

but then, months of tension boiled over and finally you just kissed, in the middle of the battlefield

“uh, guys? that’s romantic and all but FUCKING FOCUS WILL YOU?”

porco promises he’ll find you after the battle

and what do you know, he keeps his promise and after that you guys live happily ever after the manga doesn’t exist