#i spent my night finishing this and applying a skin on my switch and i am in LOVE with both

[uncanny-tranny]

I remade the crochet hook holder pattern, this time with a yellow cotton yarn. You can re-make things as many times as you want; never let yourself feel as though you only have one shot, an all-or-nothing opportunity to do something! Frankly, I like how this one turned out way better than my previous attempt, so I'll use it way more

[belit0]

Hello i see you've been getting alot of requests so you dont have to do this one anytime soon if you don't want to. Madara and his s/o switch back rubs or his s/o gives him nice body massages sfw maybe giving him a nice bath. I hope you are doing well 💕

Yes! The blog is successfully active, which makes me very happy. Please send as many requests as you want, I'll make time for all of them!

I hope you're doing well too honey, take care and I hope you enjoy this one!

We love soft Madara 😭💕

Madara steps into the hot tub and lets out a sigh of satisfaction as his skin comes into contact with the water. He was forced to take a shower before he could enjoy the bath, washing off all the dust and grime he had gained from his afternoon's training.

Not a day goes with him missing a chance to move around and use the training grounds of the Uchiha compound, dragging Izuna or Hikaku along with him.

His nights, for the most part, are spent in clan meetings and political discussions. His mornings, in gatherings with Hashirama, leading the new stage of peace many opposed. Being highly needed everywhere, a small part of his afternoons is all he can devote to himself, without having to take care of anything or anyone else.

When he returns home, he is always exhausted, having slumped under his own demands and still dealing with the annoyingly traditional Uchiha elders.

There are just a few nights when they give him a break and allow him to relax with (Y/N). When it happens, Madara fears they are planning a war behind his back.

But today, for example, the Uchiha has the night off, and (Y/N) plans to take care of him.

In first instance, she forced him into the bathroom, preventing the man from getting to cook something for them both, and being the one who prepares a romantic evening. It's hard to keep him from taking over, but (Y/N) set out to be the one pampering him tonight, and there's no way he's going to turn the tables.

After grumbling and complaining several times with phrases such as "No need, really, I'm fine, let me take care of you, woman" the Uchiha reluctantly agreed to be shoved into the hot tub, but was thankful for it the second he sat down.

In his distraction of pleasure, she also gets into the water, but instead of sitting across from him, she sits on his back. "Hey, that's unfair... why won't you let me see you?"

"Because if I sit in front of you, it won't be long before you pounce on me, and I'd rather be able to spoil you before it comes to that point. Now hush, and let me treat you."

Whatever complaint the man thought of exclaiming died immediately on his lips as (Y/N) began to run soap all over the plains of his back, detailing the shoulders, his arms, and his neck.

It formed a slick surface on his skin, over which she slid her hands, applying pressure to the spots she knew were full of knots. (Y/N) Could swear her husband was purring like a cat under her hands, tilting his head forward and tying his hair into a high ponytail to get it out of the way.

"Your hands are a treasure, (Y/N). This wasn't necessary, but..."

"I said shhh Madara, just let me take care of you."

"If you wouldn't interrupt me, you might have heard how I was going to be thankful for your massages, you knucklehead... Thank you."

"This is just the beginning, my love."

Once she's finished scrubbing his back, (Y/N) quickly rinses away all traces of soap and helps him untie his hair to wash it as well. Completely clean, she allows him to help her clean herself, just so he won't complain later about not letting him do anything in return.

Finished with the bath, they both dry off with their respective towels and proceed to the bedroom. Before Madara can begin to dress, she quickly puts on her clothes and stops him, instructing him to lie down on the bed, with only the towel wrapped around his waist.

"What are you planning now, you little minx?"

"How many times do I need to tell you to be quiet and let me get on with my plan?”

Indulging her, the Uchiha moves into the requested position and feels his wife climb on top of him, until she is sitting on his bottom. Suddenly, there’s a cool sensation on his skin, and he feels how her hands spread cream all over his back.

The real massage begins now and makes what she previously did in the bath seem like gentle caresses.

She works over all his knots with determination, resolved to leave him as good as new and pain-free. She strategically remembers the areas Madara had complained about on several occasions, paying special attention to rid him of all discomfort.

The Uchiha verbally demonstrates his satisfaction with (Y/N)'s movements, grunting every time she manages to undo a knot.

After about fifteen minutes, all the woman hears is her husband's snoring, dismounting from his back and finding that he has fallen asleep. She removes the excess cream from his spine and pulls off the damp towel, covering him with the quilt for him to sleep peacefully.

She will enjoy the dinner she prepared for the two of them alone, and save his plate for tomorrow.

[imyourbratzdoll]

Hiya!💗 my request, is about Lloyd Hansen, where like the reader accidentally does something to make him mad, and it kind of like flips a switch in him and they fight and he says something really mean, it can be about maybe the reader does something to make him mad, maybe he points out something about her and makes the reader insecure and then the reader becomes distant then Lloyd notices and realizes he messed up and tries to fix it?? Love your work btw 💗

hey! thank you so much! I hope you like it!

summary - the reader does something that causes lloyd to snap, he says some words he doesn't mean, and she becomes distant. do they fix their relationship?

warning - angst, thoughts of cheating, insults, slight fluff, self-hate.

the gif I use isn't mine, the divider by @firefly-graphics and @newlips

You were a smart girl. Why had you done something so stupid?

You had decided to clean the house while Lloyd was away, wanting him to come home to a clean house. You didn’t mean to knock liquid over vital documents. It was an honest mistake. You didn’t know they were the only copy, you had tried so hard to fix your error before Lloyd came home, but unfortunately, you didn’t do it in time.

“What the fuck is this?” Your eyes shoot up, and you stare wide-eyed at Lloyd. His eyes dart down to the destroyed papers. His brows furrow as a sneer appears on his face. “Are those the fucking papers I needed?!” He storms over, ripping the drenched papers out of your hands and glaring down at you. 

“I–’m sorry! I didn’t mean to! I was just trying to–” 

“Trying to what? Ruin everything?” He growls, chucking the papers into the trash and looking around the room. “You couldn’t just leave shit alone? You had to be annoying and ruin everything like you always do!” You blink as tears blind your vision, Lloyd’s frown deepens, and he grips your arm before dragging you to the door. “Oh, are you going to cry now? Of course, you are! Because that’s all, you know how to do! I don’t even know why I’m with you! You’re not even my fucking type! So fucking ugly and useless.” He growls, the words just spewing out of his mouth now without thought.

You gulp back the sob that’s trying to make its way out. You nod your head slowly, freeing yourself from his grip, before running out of the room and to your and Lloyd’s room. You grab some of your clothes and move them to the guest room, not feeling comfortable staying in the same room as Lloyd. You spent the night crying into your pillow. What made it worse was that you could hear Lloyd inside the house, having the time of his life. 

A stabbing pain made its way to your heart when you heard the sound of a female laughing. You slowly got up and began to get ready. You didn’t want to be here if Lloyd was going to cheat on you, which hurt the most because you never thought he’d go that far, but you guess you really disappointed him. 

You slither into tight black pants, pulling on a tight black mesh corset covered in flowers and gold. You slide on your black-heeled boots and mess your hair up slightly before applying light makeup to your face, finishing it off with a dark red lip. You decide to spray Lloyd’s favourite perfume onto your skin, loving the musky scent of vanilla.

You open the door and begin to walk out of the room, making sure to grab your bag and phone before walking through the hallway and past the lounge room where Lloyd and the mystery woman sit. You keep your head up, not wanting to see who your replacement will be because you know it will break you even more. 

“Baby! There you are! Where are you going?” You hear his voice but decide to ignore him. You continue to walk down the steps and toward the front door. You are so zoned out that you don’t hear him calling out to you or running to catch up to you. You are only brought out of the zone when he seems to grab your arm, and Lloyd frowns when you flinch from his touch. 

“What, Lloyd? What could you possibly want now? Don’t you have a whore waiting for you upstairs? Couldn’t have waited till you broke up with me to fuck someone else?” You glare at him, not wanting to be around him. 

His brows furrow, wondering why you are acting like this or why you’d think he’d cheat on you. His eyes drift down your body and take in your outfit, wondering where you could be going wearing something like that without him by your side. Before he can open his mouth to say something, you rip your arm out of his grasp and swiftly exit. 

It’s been a few days since the fight, and Lloyd has noticed you’ve been avoiding him. You become distant whenever he manages to be in the same room as you— A shell of yourself. You’d flinch whenever Lloyd touched you, causing his heart to break. He couldn’t put his finger on why you were acting like this.

He’s sitting at his desk in his office, going through some paperwork. His phone goes off, causing him to groan as he answers it. “What?!” You do not mean to eavesdrop on his phone call as you walk past his office. “What do you mean you can’t get rid of her?! Didn’t I pay you enough?! I told you that she’s useless to me! So what the fuck are you waiting for?!” You jump slightly, feeling detached more as you realise this is over. You should’ve left that night. You knew he slept with her when you came home. How else could you explain the destroyed lounge and his messy clothes? 

You gulp, head back to your room, and sit on the uncomfortable mattress. Your head goes into your hands as sobs escape your body. “Why do I have to ruin everything? Why am I so fucking ugly and useless?!” You sob, tears flowing down your face as you realise you’ve lost the one person you’ve ever loved. You are so lost in your pain that you don’t see Lloyd standing at the door, his eyes tearing up as he listens to your words. He finally realises why you’ve been so distant. “I’m so fucking pathetic that he goes and fucks someone after a fight. Why me?” 

Lloyd quickly launches forward, his arms wrapping tightly around you and holding your shaking body against his, rocking you gently as he whispers into your hair. “I’ve got you, baby. I’m not going anywhere.” He presses a kiss into your hair, tears flowing down his face. “I love you so much, and I’m so sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean any of it. You’re my one. My only.”

Your body leans into him as he continues to hold you. “I never cheated on you, Pumpkin. She was the target, but the men I hired screwed up, and she got away.” You slowly turn, looking at him through blurry eyes. Lloyd’s heart breaks at how broken you look. He leans forward and places a kiss on your forehead. “You don’t have to forgive me now. I will do anything and everything to make this up to you. Whatever you want is yours.” He stares into your eyes before he stands and lifts you.

Your arms wrap around his neck, about to ask where he’s taking you until you realise he’s heading toward your room. “You’ve been sleeping on that awful mattress, and it’s time for you to stay in our bed,” Lloyd demands, lying down on the bed and wrapping you into his arms, making a promise in his head that he will never hurt you again.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[just-here-for-the-moment]

claire!! my love!!

i was just wondering if you could write me something for din using the prompts

“H-how long have you been standing there?” &

“Did you enjoy yourself last night?”

maybe you could also throw in a lil bit of din the dilf’s breeding kink??

(could you uh make it extra smutty and make my ovaries explode??)

thank you!! i love you!!!!

OMG Jo, seriously, you’re KILLING me over here. This was sooooo filthy and fun to write LOL. I hope you like it!! 😘

Word count: 5860+

Outline: “Mando”/Din x “You” (cis/het female reader; “blank canvas”/no physical description/no name/no use of “Y/N”)

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ ONLY; Din eavesdropping; female masturbation; Din physically crowding you up against a wall; a sprinkling of angst; blackout room conditions so Din can remove the helmet; breeding kink; unprotected P/V sex; Din has a filthy mind and a filthy praise-kink mouth to match; BREEDING KINK out the wazoo; a little bit of sexy anticipation, then a little bit of romance, and then just pure SMUT

You opened the door to the hallway after your shower and let the cool air wash over you as you got dressed. You knew Mando was up in the cockpit fiddling with something that was going to take a while, and the small bathroom was entirely too steamy for your liking. The vent fan never seemed to keep up with the hot water you luxuriated in after a mission like this.

You and Mando had been on a desert planet for three days, braving periodic dust storms to find the bounty, and the endless waves of dirt had seeped into your mouth and nose. It had even seemed to settle into your joints, making them ache. You finished toweling off and stepped into your underwear.

“Dammit!” Your foot caught on the waistband but you recovered your balance quickly. You started to wonder what would happen if Mando walked in on you, caught you naked. Would he even notice? He didn’t treat you like a woman while you were hunting or fighting together. If he saw you naked it would probably be nothing. He would probably treat you like you had simply taken off a cape or a glove.

But during the nine months you had spent with him, working alongside him, talking to him in the little short conversations he actually held with you, you had fallen in… maybe not love, but something like it. Lust maybe, or yearning, or something equally desperate. You didn’t want to call it love when you didn’t even know his name.

Thoughts of Mando were starting to fill your every waking moment. You fantasized constantly about ripping off his armor and his cape, licking every inch of the expanse of skin underneath, seeing his face and making genuine eye contact. You touched yourself so often in your bunk before sleep that you had forgotten to be quiet a few times. But his stoic posturing and lack of any indication to you that he saw you, or that he recognized that you were a woman at all only drove your infatuation. It was hell.

“Man probably doesn’t have a single atom of sexuality in his body.” You muttered to yourself as you looked in the mirror and applied cream to your desert-dry skin. “I could probably lay naked across his lap and he wouldn’t even notice. Fucking sexy goddamn idiot, walking around like he’s swinging the galaxy’s biggest dick. Fuck me.”

You propped one foot up on the edge of the sink and started to apply cream to your leg. “Fucking sexy moron. Probably doesn’t even notice I have boobs. Might as well be a fucking frog lady for all he notices.”

You began to wonder if talking to yourself was a sign of some kind of hyperdrive-induced madness. Not that it mattered. Your only conversation partner was so closed off, so short with his answers that you might as well talk to yourself. You shrugged and switched to your other leg.

“Maybe I should jump him, make him notice me for once. Ha, like that would do anything. He’d probably freeze me in carbonite so that he doesn’t have to hear me talking so much.” You put your foot down and slathered cream on your arms and shoulders, following your weird train of thought.

“... or maybe he’s into that. Real weird shit, like freezing women in carbonite and jerking off on them?” You held that mental image in your brain for a half-second too long and then shuddered.

“Ew. Gross. Or maybe he’s just into normal kinky shit and hasn’t been around a woman in so long he’s forgotten how it works.”

You grabbed your toothbrush and started to clean your teeth. You spit out a mouthful of foam and then pointed the toothbrush at your reflection while you continued.

“Maybe you’re it, sweetheart.” You winked and smiled at yourself. “Maybe you’re just the woman he needs to remind him what love is. Ha! Love…”

You smirked at yourself and continued brushing. You spit out the final mouthful of foam and leaned close to the mirror, looking at your eyeballs and gums up close, inspecting yourself for signs of ill health. You lowered your voice in a parody of a sexy accent.

“Or maybe you’re just the woman he needs to remind him how luxurious a warm pussy and a pair of boobs feel in the dark when you’re out in the cold reaches of space.”

You nodded once at your reflection, as if a vital consensus with mirror-you had been reached. You stepped into your sleeping pants and slippers and pulled your shirt on over your head. You grabbed your toiletries bag and stepped out the door, taking a left toward your bunk.

You ran into a wall of Beskar. Oh fuck.

Mando was standing with his shoulder propped against the wall between the ‘fresher and your bunk. The ladder to the cockpit was about six steps behind you, which meant that he hadn’t just come down the ladder, because you would have seen him in the mirror while you were talking to yourself, which meant… Oh FUCK.

“H-how long have you been standing there?” Your voice was high and squeaky.

Mando didn’t respond, just tilted his helmet an inch to the side, like he was studying you. You felt your stomach flip over and something warm and wet rushed to your crotch. You hoped you hadn’t just peed yourself a little from fear.

You were about to open your big mouth and make some excuses about dust madness or sleep deprivation when you heard him sigh… or you thought you did anyway. It was hard to discern that soft of a sound through his modulator while your heart was pounding in your ears.

“Long enough,” was all he said, and then he walked past you and climbed the ladder to the cockpit.

You stood, rooted to the spot for ages, until you shook your head clear and went to your bunk. Maybe that hadn’t happened at all. Maybe you imagined it. Maybe you should get some sleep.

You tossed and turned for ages, trying to pinpoint the exact moment where Mando could have crossed the hall without you seeing him in the mirror, and trying to recall exactly what you had said and when. Either he had crossed the hall outside the ‘fresher door in the half second when you had pulled your shirt over your head, or he had been there since you got out of the shower and opened the door. If he had been there since you opened the door, that meant that he had heard everything, every crazy thought that you had voiced. But if he had somehow only crossed the hall while you were pulling on your shirt, then why would he have said ‘Long enough’?

Your panicked calculations ran over and over in your head, doing nothing to calm your distress. The more you thought about Mando, the more you wanted him. Okay, so what if he overheard everything? Did that change anything? No. Apparently he had decided to just… not react to it. He had swept past you and made for the ladder, and in that moment where he shared your space you had caught a whiff of his scent, that mix of cold metal and scruffy wool, the musk of something salty and warm that lay just underneath, which must be just him.

As you thought about that moment in the hall, your fingers moved almost automatically to the waistband of your sleeping pants, and you savored the coolness of your fingers when they met the warm mound of flesh just under your navel. You stroked yourself there, moving lower with each graze of your fingertips until you felt the first whisper of the coarse curls that dusted your pubic mound. You brushed your fingers along, moving lower and lower until they reached the valley between your outer lips, the crevice that you opened with a single sweep of your finger, where warmth and wetness lay buried.

You propped your legs open and found your clit, the little bud that made you gasp when you touched it and made you want to cry Mando’s name loud enough to echo through the whole ship. You clapped a hand over your mouth to muffle your moans while you rubbed harsh circles around your clit, dipping your fingers occasionally into the pool of slick that was growing by the minute. You dragged the wetness back up to your nub of nerves and kept going, harder, faster, almost punishing yourself for daring to even think about Mando that way.

He clearly didn’t want you, and the idea that you might end up torturing yourself like this for months or years longer produced an ache, a soul-deep longing to just stay close to him no matter what the circumstances, so that you could keep getting the little glimpses of him that fed your obsession. Once he had reached for a lever in the cockpit and you had caught a flash of skin at his wrist, a centimeter of flesh that fueled your bedtime fantasies for weeks.

And then just now in the hall, that rush of air in his wake as he passed you, the smells of him that combined to make him: his scent, his aura, his presence. That salt-metal-musk of him, and a hint of soap, the buttery-woodsy scent that perfumed the steamy bathroom after he had showered. You had gone in once right after he left the ‘fresher before the vents had cleared it, and the smell of his soap, so masculine and clean, had made your cunt clench. After that you seemed to find excuses almost every time to use the ‘fresher immediately after he had showered and vacated it.

You felt like a creep but you liked smelling his soap, liked the way the steam warmed your face and made it prickle as you sat and inhaled a part of him that was there but couldn’t be seen. It was almost a religious experience like that, ephemeral and intangible, with the undercurrent of shame and fear of being caught. What kind of weirdo sits and smells someone else’s shower steam and gets turned on?

The memory of all the times you had touched yourself like this before, in your bunk and in your shower and in the steamy bathroom inhaling the clouds of Mando’s soap-scent all crashed down on you at once, and a cry ripped from your throat.

You bit it off halfway and it ended with an “-mmmh!” You hadn’t heard any sounds from beyond your door, so you weren’t worried that Mando had heard you. He was probably still up in the cockpit, fiddling endlessly with knobs and buttons, trying to extract the best fuel efficiency possible. You rubbed yourself more gently until your climax shuddered to a stop, and then it was over.

You wrapped yourself up in your blankets and slept like a rock.

The next morning you woke up tense and nervous about seeing Mando. Despite being sure that he had decided to ignore what he had heard, you were still anxious about facing him. You got dressed and stuck your head out your door, not seeing him out in the hallway. Your shoulders relaxed a bit. You decided to try to just go up to the cockpit like normal. If he was going to ignore it, you could do the same… or at least you could try.

You closed your door behind you just in time for his heavy footsteps to descend the ladder from the cockpit. Fuck.

“Morning,” you mumbled. He hit the ground and turned to you, not moving a muscle. Oh stars, here we go, you thought to yourself.

He nodded his helmet at you once in greeting. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah, yes. Yes I did, thank you… You?” You made awkward, polite conversation back, even though you were half convinced he didn’t ever sleep at all. Just one more mystery of the Mandalorian you were probably never going to solve. But at least he didn’t seem like he was interested in talking about anything he may have overheard, or that he was offended enough to kick you off the ship, so that was a relief.

“Yes.” He held his visor trained on you from just a few feet away. You found yourself fixing your gaze on his neck, not bold enough to look him directly in the region of his eyes like you normally did.

You waited for him to say more. When he didn’t you found yourself nervously trying to fill the silence.

“Um, what’s on today’s schedule? We still traveling or did you want to stop anywhere? I mean, I’m fine with either option, I don’t need to stop. But if you wanted to-”

“No.”

You were almost grateful for the way he interrupted you.

“If you still want me to repair the-”

“No.”

You were starting to feel a little bit of panic. The topics of traveling and ship repairs were pretty much all you had to rely on without resorting to an awkward silence... or worse, broaching the subject of last night. You vowed not to ever talk about that if you could help it.

You nodded once and then fixed your gaze on the toes of your boots. You put your hands behind your hips and leaned back against the closed door of your bunk in a parody of a relaxed posture. You folded your lips in between your teeth and bit down, forcing yourself to look back up at his visor. If this silence lasted any longer, you were going to break and start chattering nonsense just to fill the void.

Mando took a step toward you and you involuntarily flinched. He paused, and you were filled with regret. Had you scared him off? Had you made things that terrible and awkward? Was he going to kick you off the ship?

You forced yourself to breathe evenly, in and out through your nose. In the quiet it sounded like you were taking big shuddering gasps of air. Fuck, I can’t even breathe like a normal person.

“Did you enjoy yourself last night?” Mando’s voice was low, and you weren’t sure you had heard him correctly.

You stuttered, “Wh- What? What do you mean?”

“Did you,” he took another step closer, “...enjoy yourself last night?”

Oh fuck, so he was going to talk about your embarrassing bathroom monologue after all. Fuck fuck fuck.

“No, I-” You forced yourself to at least maintain eye contact with his visor as you stumbled over your words. “I don’t enjoy that kind of thing. I mean, I don’t do it for fun, I was just, ummm... bored and I- It’s not fun for me or anything. I mean, I don’t- I don’t always- Look, I know it was rude and I’m sorry.”

“So,” he moved closer, nearly towering over you where you leaned against the wall, “...you didn’t enjoy that... last night?”

You gulped and stuttered more nonsense. “No, I- I mean, I was just trying to fill some time and I thought I was going a little, you know, nuts after that last mission. I’m sorry if you overheard me. I mean- I just- I-”

“Because it sounded to me like you were enjoying yourself.”

“Ummm… no- no, sir,” Oh fuck, did I just call him sir? What the fuck is wrong with me?

You tried again, “I’m sorry if you overheard me. I was- It was rude, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I said.”

Mando propped one arm against the wall near your head, boxing you in. You wouldn’t be able to untangle your own arms from behind you without pushing your body against his.

He inclined his visor lower and purred, “What you said?”

“Yes, in the ‘fresher, I’m sorry you overheard me with the door open, talking to myself about you. I’m- I won’t do it again.”

He tilted his visor just an inch lower, and you got the distinct impression he was enjoying this, enjoying watching you squirm.

“I wasn’t talking about the ‘fresher.”

Your heart stopped for what felt like a full second, and then picked back up at double speed.

“What?” Your voice was a mere squeak, barely a whistle of air forming one word.

“I wasn't talking about the ‘fresher.” Mando’s voice was low, as dangerous as you had ever heard him.

Your eyes were glued to the curved black of his visor, and you couldn’t form coherent thoughts or any words besides stuttering out another weak, “W- what?”

Mando brought his free hand up to your face. His fingers were curled just under your chin, the pad of one huge thumb pressed flat under your lower lip.

“I was talking about you touching yourself in your bunk where you think I can’t hear every moan that you make. Where you think I can’t hear you fucking your own fingers practically every night, for months.” He was holding your chin in place with his gloved fingers. Under any other circumstances you would have been drooling with lust from both your mouth and your pussy. But this was torture.

You let a small sigh out, and it felt like all of your last bit of life force went with it. For the first time in your life, you felt like you were going to faint. You managed to shudder a great heaving breath in and stay upright. You had survived worse, you could manage to get through this little embarrassment, and then you could make your break from the ship, leave the Mandalorian, and go to whichever corner of the galaxy he wasn’t going to be in. You tried to remind yourself that nobody ever died from a little embarrassment.

“I- I…” You tried to form some kind of rational thought, and then you seized on a little spark of anger. You jerked your chin sideways to get it loose from his fingers, and then you scowled up at his visor. You tried to get very angry at the idea of him listening in, when that was actually all you had wanted for months.

“That was private, Mando. Are you saying that I should be embarrassed about a biological function of the human body? Masturbation is normal.”

He practically whispered, and you had to strain to hear him over your own pounding heart.

“I didn’t say it wasn’t normal, sweetheart. I asked if you had enjoyed yourself, because it sounded to me like you did. Contrary to popular belief, I have noticed that you’re a woman, and I do have at least one atom of sexuality in my body. I’ve touched myself at night, too, thinking about you.”

Oh stars, if embarrassment couldn’t kill you, the sudden jump in arousal might. You felt your stomach flip and your pussy clenched hard around nothing. The fresh clean underwear you had put on this morning was drenched.

You couldn’t speak, but Mando seemed to be fine continuing his train of thought. “And if you wanted any help in that department, I know a certain ‘sexy moron’ who might be able to assist.”

“Oh fuck.” Your voice was back to a squeak.

“That’s not an answer.” He tilted his visor just a degree to the right. “Do you want my help with that?”

You closed your eyes and nodded vigorously, nearly headbutting his helmet. “Yeah, yes. Yes please. Yes.”

“Good.” Mando stood back from the wall and put his hands on his hips. Now that he wasn’t crowding you, you felt like you could breathe again.

He held one gloved hand out to you. “We have at least a few hours with the ship on autopilot. Your bunk or mine?”

“Yours.” You pushed yourself off the wall and nearly fell. Your legs had gone numb. Mando caught you around your waist and looked down at you.

“Ground rules first. One, you can’t see my face. We have to leave all of the lights off.”

You nodded up at him. “Yeah, okay. I’m okay with that.”

“Good. Two, you have to stop creeping into the ‘fresher after every shower I take. That’s weird, cyar'ika.”

Your eyes fluttered closed and you laughed. “Yeah, okay. Sorry.”

“Three, you can call me Din. It’s my name. But you only use it when we’re alone, got it? Everywhere else we go, I’m still ‘Mando’ to you.”

You looked back up at his visor with your best, most honest face. “Yeah, I can do that… Din. That’s nice.”

Mando released you and held your hand as you walked the three steps over to his bunk’s door. He opened it and motioned for you to get inside. You kicked off your boots and crawled up on the bed. Mando closed the door and started to remove his armor and his layers of underclothes. You took the hint and started to undress yourself.

You lay naked on the bed, taking in the sight of him as he disrobed in the dim light. It was odd that he could get entirely naked and let you see his cock, his broad shoulders, thick and solid muscles from fighting, scars and all… but not his face.

As if he could read your thoughts, he turned to you and said, “I can’t let you see my face unless we’re married, unless you’re my riduur, my wife.”

You blinked at that, the thought of being lucky enough to become his wife was dizzying, potent and attractive.

You had a sudden thought and sat up, dangling your legs off the side of the bed. “Are we- are we ruining that? If we do this can I still be- I mean, we’re not supposed to wait until after marriage, right?”

“We?”

“I’ve been on your ship for months, Mand- I mean, Din.” You shook your head to clear it.

“I’ve been lusting after you since the first time you said my name. I’ve been half distracted by thoughts of you every day since I got here…” You trailed off, unsure of how to say what you were trying to say without just coming right out and saying it.

Din moved closer and sat on the edge of the bed next to you. “Are you saying you want to do more than just fuck?”

“Well… yeah. I mean, if I just wanted a fuck I could’ve gone to any brothel right near the landing pads, at any of the places we’ve stopped.” You looked down at your lap, somehow more embarrassed by the admission that you hadn’t had sex in months than you had been by all of the conversation up to now.

Mando slipped one of his broad hands into yours, intertwining his fingers. The warmth and the new, strange sight of his calloused hand holding yours so gently gave you the courage to finish voicing your thoughts.

“But I… I didn’t want that. I don’t want just a fuck…” You looked back up at his visor and took a steadying breath in. “I want you, Din. I love you.”

Din let a long breath out, “Cyar'ika, I- I’m happy to hear you say that, but I don’t want you to get into anything with me that you might regret.”

Your voice was quiet. “Does that mean you don’t love me?”

He turned you to face him, broad hands holding your shoulders. “No, that’s not what it means. I- I’ve felt the same way about you since you got here. But I had to hide it because this is a hard life that I’ve chosen.”

“I know that, Din-”

He cut you off. “No. This is it. We may not be able to settle down or stay in one place. I can’t guarantee that there will be any luxury or softness in your life. It means that I love you so much that I want you to be absolutely sure of what you’re choosing, if you choose me.”

You blinked up at him. Did he really not see?

“Din, I’ve fought alongside you for months. I thought that I had proved myself capable, but if you think I’m weak or I can’t handle it-”

“Mesh’la, I know you can handle it, I know you can fight and that you’re strong. But it has to be your choice.” He took both of your hands in his. “You can’t choose this on a whim. You have to choose with your eyes open.”

He brought his hand back up to grip your chin again, thumb planted firmly to tilt your face up to his. You saw yourself reflected in his visor, and you realized instantly that your face looked just as determined as you felt inside. You brought both hands up to wrap them around his shoulders, stroking the skin on the back of his neck. He dropped his hand from your face and wrapped both arms around your waist.

“My eyes are open, Din, and I choose you. If you need more time, if you don’t want to decide right now, I’ll wait for you. I’ll stay and fight alongside you and prove my love to you a thousand times if that’s what it takes. But I choose you, and everything that goes along with that choice.”

Din bent his head to yours and touched the front of his helmet to your forehead. The gesture was strangely somehow more intimate than the fact that you were sitting naked next to one another on his bunk. You sighed and closed your eyes, reveling in the feeling of him under your fingertips, the contrast of the cool metal against your forehead, the warmth of his soft skin where it pressed against yours.

“I want you to have my warriors, mesh’la. Do you want that? Do you want me to father your children?”

Your arousal surged back suddenly. YES, your entire body screamed at you. You inclined your head back and leaned your face up to kiss the top of his visor.

“I’d love nothing better, Din. If you want me, I’m yours. I’ll bear twenty warriors if you want me to.”

“Mesh’la, I-” He stopped. “Not here. I can’t marry you here. You deserve to do it on some beautiful green planet, to wear flowers in your hair and say your vows with me in the sunlight.”

“Okay, Din. Whatever you say. I don’t care where we make our vows.” You stroked your hands down his broad shoulders and gripped his biceps. “I’ll do it here, I’ll do it on the farthest-flung planet if you say so. I’ll do whatever you say, whatever it takes to call myself your wife.”

He leaned his helmet to your head again, and whispered, “Cyar'ika, my beautiful girl. My girl… close your eyes.”

You sat back on the bed and closed your eyes. Din got up and you heard the soft hiss of his helmet coming off, then a thud as he laid it carefully on the floor. Then there was a soft click as he turned the lights off before he joined you on the bed. He gently pushed you onto your back, and you felt him recline next to you, your bodies and legs pressed together as he lay on his side facing you.

His voice was strange without the modulator, somehow the same velvety tone, but entirely different altogether. “You can open your eyes, cyar'ika.”

You did, and found that the entire bunk was dark, no seam or seep of light from the hallway around the door. You turned your face to Din and whispered his name, “Kiss me.”

He did, and you melted into it. You realized suddenly that although you had spent so many months fantasizing about what he looked like under his helmet, you actually didn’t care now. You just wanted to feel him and be with him. To be his.

You felt his erection grow hot and hard against your leg, and you whimpered as his tongue probed your mouth. His lips were soft, his kisses languid and deliberate. You were split in two by the desire to take your time like this, and the equally strong throbbing in your clit that urged you to hurry along to the fucking.

You decided to let him go as slow as he wanted. There would be plenty of time for that later, and you suddenly realized just how quickly things had moved to this point. This was your first time kissing the man who would be your husband. The thought of it nearly bowled you over. Last night in front of the mirror you had called him some very bad things while also somehow complimenting him, and then you had touched yourself in desperation like you had almost every night for the last nine months. And now, here you were in his bunk, naked together and engaged to be married. There was no need to rush things.

Din kissed you like he was trying to memorize you, and you gave him the best of yourself in return. You whispered and murmured sweet words to him in between kisses, licked into his mouth with the same vigor that he licked into yours, and stroked his cheek with your fingers.

“Din, I love you so much. I want to be yours forever.” You kissed him deeply and pulled his hand down to rest on your belly. “Please give me children. Please let me carry a part of you inside me. I want you to fill me up with your seed, let it grow inside my womb.”

“Mesh’la,” he nearly whined at that.

He kissed you again more aggressively as he rolled himself on top, bracing himself on his hands above you. You gripped his forearms just below his elbows and got wetter at the feel of the hard muscles under his hot skin. He was strong, you had seen that in action many times, but the corded muscles just under the skin were proof of his presence, the man under the armor.

The realization that you would be the only woman for the rest of his life to feel him this way made you moan.

“Din, take me. Please? Take me now.”

He whispered to you in the dark, “I will, mesh’la. I’m going to fuck you and fill you up. Fill you with my semen. You’re going to have my baby.”

You opened your legs wide, feeling the heat ebb from your throbbing cunt. Din shifted against you and you felt his cock press against your seam. He rolled his hips away from you, and in the next moment he was halfway inside, kissing you hard as he moaned into your mouth.

You wrapped your legs around his hips and pulled him into yourself, feeling ravenous and greedy, wanting every inch of him inside of you as soon as you could. You reached up to caress his neck and cup the back of his head. You were surprised to find that his hair was soft, and that it curled down to the nape of his neck. You hadn’t given a thought to his hair, other than to note that his pubic hair and body hair was dark when he undressed. You just hadn’t spared a thought to what the hair under his helmet would look like, or if he even had any at all.

You were instantly curious about the color of Din’s eyes, and whether your children would look more like him, or like you. You smiled into his kisses in the dark, savoring that sweet wonderment as your husband-to-be fucked into you, rolling his hips against yours in the dark and joining the two of you forever.

Din started huffing out words that landed somewhere between devotion and depravity, filled with more emotion than you had heard from him in all of the preceding months.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, mesh’la. I’m gonna fill you up and fuck a warrior into you, fill you with my cum and watch you grow round. You’re going to glow with my baby growing inside of you.”

You moaned and spasmed around his cock, chills of electricity running up and down your spine as he growled out more of his filthy praise.

“You’re going to look so beautiful, cyar'ika, so fucking gorgeous after I fill your hot cunt with my seed. You’re going to take it all and let it fill you- fucking fill you up until you’re bursting… my good girl.”

You felt your climax growing, and you pulled your knees up high so that he could thrust even deeper.

“More, Din-” you huffed out the words as best you could. “Tell me more. Fuck me more.”

He began thrusting harder, stuttering out his words with each plunge of his meaty cock into your wet, hot center.

“You’re- fucking- beautiful. Fucking gorgeous.” He kissed you hurriedly, eager to spill more dirty talk into you. “We’re going to take- take our vows tomorrow- take our time after that- fuck you until you’re dripping with my cum. Fuck a warrior into that ripe womb of yours.”

“Oh fuck, Din. I’m gonna come. Keep going.”

“Touch yourself for me, cyar’ika. Touch that beautiful cunt and make her swallow me whole.”

You cried out at that and then reached down to find your clit, to coax yourself over the edge as Din continued to utter his honeyed filth into your soul.

“You’re going to carry- carry my warriors, mesh’la. Grow round with my baby inside you- spill honey from your breasts for my child.” He groaned and you could tell he was close.

“I’m going to fill your hot cunt with my seed, m- make you froth with my cum, cyar’ika. Everyone will know who you belong to.”

He thrust even harder, ramming his cock into a spot deep inside of you that made your eyes water.

“I’ll protect you both, cyar’ika. Shelter and care for you while you grow our baby inside of you. Fill up this fucking hot cunt- this perfect fucking pussy- over and over again. Protect you for the rest of my life.”

“Fuck, Din, I’m coming!” You felt your whole body thrill with the force of your orgasm, your pelvic muscles squeezing him hard as you threw your head back and moaned.

Din groaned and thrust four, five, six more times until he plunged deep and held still, collapsing down on top of you to bury his face in your neck. You felt him spasm as he lay pressed against you, his hot, sticky cum spilling deep inside. You wrapped your legs back around his hips and held him in, murmuring sweet words into his ear as you stroked his hair.

“My love, I’m going to have all of your babies. I want you inside of me always, Din.” You pressed kisses to his ear as you whispered. “I love you so much. I’ll follow you to the farthest star and back, my love, always.”

Din panted as he came down. You felt him soften inside of you, but he didn’t withdraw. He pulled his head up and kissed you softly.

“Mesh’la, I can’t wait to marry you. My wife… my love.”

---

Din Djarin/Mando character masterlist

Main Masterlist

“Everything bagel” tag list: @quica-quica-quica @anaaaispunk @justanotherblonde23 @gracie7209 @nicolethered @honestly-shite @driedgreentomatoes @dihra-vesa @1800-fight-me @the-queen-of-fools @juletheghoul @kesskirata @honeymandos @silverwolf319 @mourningbirds1 @greeneyedblondie44 @spacedilf @maxwell–lord @anxiousandboujee @cevvie @sherala007 @writeforfandoms @libellule2001 @deadhumourist @mandoalorian @javierpinme @eri16 @mandocrasis @pilothusband @bastillealmighty @eri16 @jitterbugs927 @babiiface95 @toomanystoriessolittletime @yespolkadotkitty @fisforfulcrum @prettylilhalforc @mswarriorbabe80 @littlemisspascal @wildemaven @coreychick @castleamc

[miracleonice87]

Back home in Quebec with Beau for the first time

I trusted our frenemy Google Translate with some of this one, and we all know how that goes, so much bear with me on any mistakes, y'all. also this exact idea had been on my list with Beau specifically for over a year, and Kerry creepily read my mind per usual. 🤍

_____

Back Home with Beau

Your flight had gotten into Montreal too late last night to visit with any of Anthony’s family or hometown friends – which, you sort of hated to admit, was fine by you, as it gave you more time to mentally prepare to meet them all for the first time. 

An unfortunately early end to the season for Anthony and the Isles a couple of weeks earlier meant that summer break was already here. You’d only started seeing Anthony about three months ago, but things had quickly grown serious, and anybody who spent any iota of time with the two of you could see that you were both completely head over heels for one another. 

Which is why you now found yourself in the en suite bathroom in Anthony’s house back in Sorel-Tracy, committed to spending two weeks in his hometown before returning back to work in New York. You were excited to meet his family, of course, but more than that, you were nervous – not only were you concerned what they may think about you, but given their background, you felt the need to at the very least brush up on your French. Though they did also speak English, it was not their primary language, and you felt uncomfortable at the thought that they might feel the need to switch their entire dialect for the sake of your understanding their conversation. The last thing you wanted to be to them was a bother. 

So here you stood, carefully applying your makeup in the mirror and softly repeating to yourself the French phrases you’d secretly been practicing for days now. 

“Uh, Anthony m'a dit… Anthony m'a dit tell-e-ment… ugh, tellement… Anthony m'a dit tellement de choses merveilleuses… sur… sur toi? [Anthony has told me so many wonderful things about you.]" You huffed. You felt certain that wasn’t right, but pressed on. “Merci beaucoup de… m'avoir? Um, yeah. Merci beaucoup de m'avoir invité chez toi. [Thank you so much for inviting me to your home.] Uh…”

“What are you up to, mon ange [my angel]?”

Anthony’s voice in the doorway nearly made you jump out of your skin. 

“Babe! You scared me,” you muttered shyly, feeling heat rise from your chest to your cheeks. 

He stepped behind you, slinging his arms around your hips and pressing a warm kiss to your shoulder. 

“Are you okay, bébé?” he asked, lips still resting against your skin.

You groaned softly, head falling backward. “I just don’t wanna make a fool of myself trying to speak French in front of your family,” you admitted bashfully. "I've been... practicing a little. Which is totally embarrassing."

He gently turned you to face him and sweetly brushed your cheek with his thumb. 

“You don’t need to worry about speaking French with them, my love,” he assured. “Trust me, they speak English perfectly well.” 

“No, no, I know that! Of course. I didn't mean to imply... That’s not it at all,” you fumbled, shaking your head. “I just want them to feel comfortable. And feel like I give a shit about speaking their native language.” 

Anthony nodded, his big eyes full of understanding, and gave your hand a good squeeze. 

“You’re very sweet for even thinking about that, but please don’t let it stress you out,” he said, pulling you closer and kissing the bridge of your nose. “I like you for exactly who you are right now, and I know they will, too. Okay?”

You forced a smile and wrapped your arms around Anthony’s neck in an appreciative hug, turning your head to kiss his jaw. 

“Thanks, Anth,” you said, releasing him with a sigh. 

“Of course,” he replied as you turned back toward your reflection. “Now, focus on finishing getting ready, and meet me downstairs when you are,” he said easily with a playful swat of your ass. You yelped with a grin and rolled your eyes before finishing your makeup. 

_____

Soon, you were pulling up to the Beauvillier house and being greeted loudly by his parents, Sylvain and Dominique, his brother, Francis, with many aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends close behind. The scene was a cacophony of francophones all greeting each other with unfamiliar phrases, and your throat began to tighten, your palms sweating as your anxiety crept back in. 

You looked at Anthony and must have been wearing a pitiful, desperate expression, because he winked and offered a reassuring nod. 

“Mom, Dad, Frank,” he spoke, switching back to English for your sake. He stepped back from his family’s huddle and slipped a hand around your waist, proudly holding you close. “I’d like you to meet my girlfriend,” he said, beaming as he introduced you. 

You extended your hand, first to his mother. 

“C'est un plaisir de vous rencontrer!” you exclaimed, because, thanks to your singular conversational French class in middle school, you were pretty sure that at least that part was correct. Then, with butterflies in your belly, you ventured ahead. “Uh, Anthony m'a dit tellement de choses merveilleuses sur toi.”

His parents raised their eyebrows, his brother letting out an impressed, good–natured, “oooh!” as you smiled nervously. His mother refused your handshake, though, and instead pulled you in for a hug so firm and sweet it rivaled even Anthony’s. She laughed lightheartedly. 

“Listen to you – you’re a natural!” she said sincerely. “It is so lovely to meet you. I told Anthony that unless he was bringing you along, don’t even bother coming home!” 

You laughed easily as Anthony’s dad pulled you in for a hug. 

“She’s not kidding, either!” he exclaimed. As he pulled back he added, “Hello, mon cherie [my dear]. Thank you for coming to visit us.” 

“Well, thank you for having me!” you replied. “I’m looking forward to spending time with all of you.”

And as Anthony watched his brother pull you in for yet another hug, he grinned to himself, knowing you meant it and watching your tension melt away. 

_____

“Well, mon cherie, how was your first day in maison de [house of] Beauvillier?” Anthony asked as you lay snuggled on a chaise lounge by the fire together later that night, after his parents had gone to bed and the rest of the group had returned home. 

You smiled lazily for where your head lay on his chest and tipped your head up to meet his eye. 

“It was… how do you say… magnifique,” you replied with a sweeping gesture. Anthony chuckled warmly and kissed the top of your head.

“Now I wanna teach you a new French saying,” he said, squeezing your waist.

“Hmm? What is it?” you asked, eager to adopt it if it was important enough for him to bring up specifically.

He grasped your chin softly and pressed a long, unhurried kiss to your lips before answering, the adoration in his crystal blue eyes overwhelming.

“Je t’aime.”

A slow smile stretched fully across your features.

“I already know that one. I think it might be my favorite.”

[watchmegetobsessed]

LOVE LANGUAGE

a/n: just a little fluffy something i cooked up one morning 🥰

pairing: Harry X Reader

word count: 1.3k

masterlist

Harry doesn’t shy away from telling you how he feels. He has been very vocal about everything that goes on in his mind and you know he has come a long way from being reserved and keeping things bottled up inside him to always telling you what bothers him or what makes him happy. He was also the first one to say I love you. You already knew you felt that way, but you didn’t try to drop it on him like a bomb when he is not ready to hear it, but for your biggest surprise, he said it not long after that. Now it’s been four years and you’re happier than ever. It’s been your longest relationship and at the beginning you were afraid you’d get so used to each other that the sparkles and the fire would slowly vanish, but it never happened. You’re still just as passionate and wistful towards each other as you were in the first month when you spent most of your time in either your or Harry’s bed, exploring each other not just in a physical way, but you also just talked and talked and talked until you knew each other inside and out. And you grew to love him faster and harder than you did with anyone.

Though you love to hear him say those three tiny words, murmuring into your ear while he makes love to you, or hearing him croak it out first thing in the morning, whispering against your lips when he comes home or just dropping it anytime he feels like he hasn’t said it in a long time, your absolute favorite is still the times when he tells you he loves you without using those words. During your time together you’ve come to speak Harry’s love language pretty well. He is a very affectionate person, mostly when it’s just the two of you, but he doesn’t fail to show you his feelings even in the middle of a crowd.

He tells you he loves you without saying the words when you’re sick and he drops everything to come and take care of you.

You had been dating for only a few months when you caught a nasty stomach bug. Your breakfast came back quicker than you could even finish it and you were forced to call into your work and tell them you are not gonna make it into the office today. Then you texted Harry to cancel on your dinner plans and though you didn’t want to tell him that you’ve been spending most of your morning on your bathroom’s floor, he didn’t leave you until you told him what was wrong. Thirty minutes later he was at your place with two bags filled with everything and anything you could need. Medicine, tea, some plain biscuits for when you can finally keep something down and some of his clothes you love wearing when you’re at his place. But when he had checked in on you and made sure you had everything you could need, he didn’t leave.

“Harry, you don’t want to listen to me throwing up every five seconds. Just go and I’ll be fine, okay?” you groaned, lying on your couch that’s the closest spot to the bathroom in case you had to run for it.

“Leaving? I’m not leaving, Love. I’ll be right here—“

He couldn’t even get to finish because you had to throw up again even though you’d been trying hard to keep it together at least while he was there, but you couldn’t stop yourself anymore. Hunched over the toilet, the remaining of your breakfast ending up in it. As you were reaching up to flush it, a hand was faster than you, another one gently running up and down on your back. Harry was quick to kneel next to you, brush your hair out of your face as you waited if there would be more or you could get up from the floor. Harry didn’t say a word, he wasn’t grossed out and he didn’t leave. He spent the whole day by your side, helping and soothing you until you could finally fall asleep in his arms as he kept kissing your forehead, gently humming to you.

He tells you he loves you without saying the words when he buys you things he thinks you’ll love.

It’s not always something useful or expensive, though he is quite good at spending a fortune on you even though you’ve told him several times not to spend that much money on you. Sometimes it’s just something small and seemingly insignificant.

Like when you got obsessed with an ice-cream brand, you ate it day and night, buying basically the whole supply from your local grocery store, up until there was no more. You waited and waited for the restock, but it never came and you later found out that they won’t be selling it anymore.

Harry tracked down the closest store that had the brand, drove almost two hours just to buy it and then came home with a whole box of it, filling your entire freezer with just the ice-cream.

“The saddest thing is that it’s gonna be gone in like a week,” you sighed as you finally shut the freezer closed, finding your boyfriend smirking at you.

“Then I’ll go and get you more,” he simply shrugged, before stealing a quick kiss.

Harry tells you he loves you without saying the words when he watches out for you even when you are not doing that for yourself.

On your third anniversary he was able to make some time for a vacation, just the two of you on a small island with endless sunshine and warm, sandy beaches. You stayed at a private villa that had its own little beach so you could be entirely alone, without prying eyes and nosy fans.

You’d been lying out in the sun for a while and you completely forgot to use any sunscreen. When Harry returned from inside with some water for the both of you, he simply started applying it to your back without a word, making sure he covered every part.

“Mm, thank you,” you mumbled when his fingers started massaging your muscles, the strings of your bikini soon coming undone.

“Don’t want my baby to get sunburnt, right?” he mumbled, kissing you under your ear. It didn’t take long for the tow of you to take advantage of being so hidden away, your bikini bottom coming off along with his swimming trunks, having some giddy, sandy sex on the beach that definitely continued in the shower when you were trying to get rid of all the sand that stuck to your skin.

He says he loves you when he makes excuses to go home earlier from a party just because he knows you’re tired. Or when he waits for you with dinner after a long day, making your favorite. He makes you feel so loved with all his little touches and looks, the way he talks about you to others and how he always makes you his priority.

It’s not always in the words but in the actions, you’ve become fluent in Harry’s love language and you can only hope he understands yours as well. That every time you wake up before him you make sure his coffee would be already done by the time he stumbles out of the bedroom. Or when you ask him to pull over when you’re on a road trip so you can switch and drive for a while because you can tell that he is tired. It’s your way of saying you love him when you drop by the studio with food for him and the band when you know they’ve been probably locked up in there working for way too long and also when you make him the little spoon after a tiring day, knowing how much he loves to be held sometimes. It’s all in the tiny things, understanding each other’s love language.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[sweettodo]

Animals ⟿ Levi Ackerman x fem!reader

Includes : cockwarming, smut, swearing, riding, slight praise.

Word count : 1,8k

An, ik this is short. But I’m down bad yall. I am so dick deprevied it is just sad. ANYWAYS. Also I couldn’t think of a good title bc this is just smut w no plot??

Levi was not the one for pda, quite the opposite- no surprise there; he hated kissy couples who laid all over each other like idiots. It was really disappointing when you were more or less ignored besides meal time throughout the day, where in the dining hall we would be able to have some conversation.

You sat across from him at dinner, the smoldering heat from the summer evening which kept you all from wearing your normal uniforms, you wore a white tank top with some random shorts while Levi looked incredibly sculpted, his pecs and abs filling out a tight-ish short sleeve shirt, sweat slightly sticking to his arms, restricting, that- that tight...

“Oi, staring much?” My gaze snaps back to his dark eyes, deadpan face and all. You smirk and roll your eyes, his eyes fell deep into yours; he bit his tongue in anticipation of what you were planning next.

“Sorry, Captain.” You drag, with that slight whiney undertone you purposely allowed to slip from your lips. he scowled at you, obviously irritated at your childish behavior, you playfully kick him under the table, Hange eyes you from the corner of her eyes, smile planted on her face. Everyone knew you rarely called Levi ‘Captain’ and the only time you did was- quite frankly- in the bedroom.

She turns to face Levi, her smile only growing when she sees how irritated he looked, “why the pout ‘Captain?’” She laughs teasingly, patting his shoulder. It was all fun and games until you don’t expect the sharp kick into your calf, you jerk backwards and wince, followed by a hiss and you stand, your legs hopping over the bench and as you pass Levi, you feel his eyes burn holes into your backside. Steering yourself across the halls and finally down to Levi’s office with the adjoining bedroom, sneaking into the office; making sure no one saw, you close the door behind you in excitement; your stomach giddy knowing you did a sufficient job planting a little bug in Levi’s ear; enough to get the ball rolling.

One thing no one knew, a surprising fact that left you baffled the first time you had heard it; Levi was a switch. At least when he felt like it. It came in handy when he didn’t want to do any work.

He liked to watch you get yourself off and use him like a toy.

Slowly walking around his perfectly neat desk, the infamous Levi walks in, slamming the door behind him. While he stood there, you continue strolling around the wooden desk, fingers lightly trailing across the smooth finish of his desk, “do you think you’re subtle? Practically moaning my title in front of our peers?” He grits, walking over to his bedroom door, opening it and standing there waiting for me, “get on the bed. Now. This is what you wanted right? To piss me off enough?” I slyly walk by him, ignoring his tantrum, my fingers once again trailing across his immediate tensed stomach. He shuts the door behind him and watches you sit on the bed, legs hanging off the side.

It didn’t take long for the air to quickly become thick in the moderalty large room. Your neglected pussy throbbing at the idea that it was about to be packed to the fucking brim.

He slips off his shirt whilst standing in between your legs, you gulp and look up at him. Suddenly grabbing your jaw, a tight grip which you quickly realized he wasn’t going to make this any easier for yourself, “I’m gonna get on this bed, and you’re gonna ride me.” You blink innocently, incapable of nodding from his freakish Ackerman strength. He shoves you off his hand, your back hitting the bed, your hand raising to your jaw and rubbing the tenderness.

Unbuttoning his pants, kicking them off his thighs and propping himself against the rustic wood headboard, you slip off your top, followed by your shorts, you approach him to straddle him, starting to throw a leg over his waist.

But before you can do that...

Grabbing ahold of your hips, he begins manhandling you, turning you around to reverse him, “that’s unfair.” You pout, his hands dragging up and down your thighs, applying a loud slap against your right ass cheek, your cunt clenching as he slaps you again with his hard calloused hand.

“What’s unfair? What’s there to look at if you’re facing me?” He chuckles, you crane your head back to look at him, a smug look on his stupid face.

You bring yourself up and deciding to give yourself a little pleasure. You find yourself bringing your clothed heat against his hard cock, grinding.

This. This, for certain Levi could not resist, he allows you to give a little friction, knowing he wouldn’t allow it to go on for too long regardless, “I wanted to look at your face.” You hum, whining your hips slightly against him, his mouth falling dry.

“Tch, show me what you can do, yeah?” His hands massaging the small of your back, gripping and kneeding tightly as you sit up only a little, leaning down so you can snake your hand between your legs and releasing his dick from his boxers with one hand, he uses his two fingers to move your underwear to the side, adjusting so you can ride him.

Your hands grip his thighs, the curve to your back which he looked at, your shoulder blades rolling, fitting him into your cunt, your head moving almost erratically as he stuffs you, “so fucking wet, how long have you been like this princess? I fucking love it.” He praises, his hands still helping you up and down still at a slow pace.

“All day Levi.” You admit, he lets out a little ‘hm’ in response, he was just so fixated on the way your hips and thighs moved while on top of his slightly sweaty body; the sound of skin sticking together was echoing throughout the bedroom.

His hand lingering up your spine, reaching for your hair, his fingers entangling into your roots, grabbing hard and yanking your light headed - head back, he sits up and brings his head right to the crook of your shoulder, you stop thrusting yourself up and down momentarily, “I love it when you sit pretty on my cock like this, mh’ could be like this all fucking night.”

You can only wimped in response, walls uncontrollably flexing and twitching around his cock which sat nested in you for what felt like forever, with his hand still in your hair, he used his free one to weave around to your front, slipping into your underwear, you gasped and cried out, panting like a fucking dog as he plants firm and pressurized circular motions around your clit.

You couldn’t move; body being help down on his dick, you couldn’t even squirm underneath him, “Such a feign for my cock aren’t you? Tell me what you want.” You could’ve cum right then and there.

“Bend me over.” You begged, he picks up the pace of his three fingers which spun crazily around your bud, his fingers becoming soaked. He completely ignored you, “fuck! Levi!” You wail, your pussy twitching, eyes rolling back, still restrained over his hard on. Thighs twitching as you feel the slick of your cum bathing Levi’s already drenched cock. His fingers had slowed tremendously, working you through your first orgasm, he releases his fist from your hair and your weak neck drops down and you breathe, you wanted him to fuck you now.

“You better not move. I’ll fuck you when I’m ready.” He growls, feeling you attempt to lift your hips back up for any type of thrust; which he stopped.

His hand leaves your slit, you groan in frustration, “Captain, please bend me over.” You whine and plead once again.

This time it works, he quickly pulls out and pushes you onto your elbows, he gets on his knees, lightly slapping your shoulder, motioning you to turn your face towards the head frame as he stood perched behind you; your head in the pillows as he kicks open your legs with his knee, pushing down against your hips so he could look at your throbbing pink pussy, screaming to be fucked.

“I shouldn’t even be touching you right now.” He grits, angling himself against your cunt, sliding back in, it truly stung, the time he spent sitting inside you only heightened those nerves, they exploded when they came into contact. “Annoying me like that? You think you deserve this?” He insults, contradicting his words with his slow thrusts, crying into the pillow, his tight grip which held your legs in place, he’s pulling your hips towards him; fucking you onto his dick.

“I-m sorry Levi.” You moan, he smacks your ass, the stinging sensation onto going straight to the most sensitive area. You were so close to releasing again; luckily for you Levi wasn’t they type to stop you. Loud moans being somewhat silenced by the pillows yet didn’t block all the sound. Levi, who is drilling your hips onto his, he stops and switches roles, him doing the pounding.

Levi’s hand grabs ahold of the headboard, watching you fall apart under him, arm and back flexing beautifully as your cum juiced down his cock. You were so fucking wet, wetting his thighs and your own from the skin to skin contact.

With one hand placed roughly on your back, the other on the headboard, he wastes no time gaining momentum and fucking you absolutely silly; fucking you till’ you were seeing stars when you closed your eyes.

Your weak hand reaches for his moving body and you keep it on top of your tail bone so you could touch his stomach as he thrusted back and forth into you, the tips of your fingers touching him was enough for you to orgasm.

Not to mention the headboard banging back into the wall as well- which neither of you paid any mind to-while he was assaulting the absolute fuck out of your cunt. Your tears and drool which have destroyed the pillow are no match for the amount of cum and sweat that both you and Levi had soaked the sheets with. You two fucked each other like animals, you two could be going all day and night if you didn’t need the sleep for the coming day.

Nor did he care about pulling out, not even warning you, or even himself for that matter- he’s catching himself unloading a thick load deep into your squeezing pussy. His grunts filling the room; followed by a repeated ramble of your name. You had lost count to how many times you had cum, which came to no shocker when it was Levi.

He stays inside you, his sputtering thrusts, he panted as he still kept you full and warm with his softening cock, not wanting to feel cold, stubborn about the fact he needed to stop fucking you at some point. People were bound to have heard the banging headboard and wailing, which you and Levi would be hearing about with the neighboring headroom and office... Hange’s room and office.

He finally slides out of you, entertained at the sight of his cock covered in slick. You lift your head up and throw yourself onto your back, whilst Levi is doing the same. He looked a mess, glistening with sweat, hair either sticking to his forehead or little pieces even clumped together; with his cheeks red, mouth slightly open with heavy breaths from his chest- he was a hot mess, but you didn’t even want to know what you looked like.

“Let me pee and we go again Captain Levi?” You tease, body perking up, he looks up at you and smirked, nodding and as you roll out of bed, he slaps you hard against your ass, you jump and scurry to the bathroom.

“We don’t have anything to do tomorrow anyways.” Levi mumbles as he stands up to follow you to the bathroom.

[moonlightlullaby]

no celebrations?

summary: Corpse and reader celebrate his birthday in the most chill way. Based on this lovely request (ty again for sending it!) 

pairing: corpse husband x gn! reader

category: fluff

warnings: food ingestion; alcohol ingestion; loads of physical touch (let me know if I forgot to mention anything)

A/N: Hello (: This is such a lovely concept, I just couldn’t wait to get started hehe Also, I got a bit carried away and just went with it, so I’m really sorry if that’s not what you’d pictured. I do hope you enjoy it tho <3 Take care!

word count: 2.4k

Masterlist

Walking into our shared bedroom, I catch the sight of Corpse exiting the bathroom. As our eyes lock, my lips curl up tiredly and a long sigh I didn’t even know I’ve been holding finally frees itself. He sits on the edge of our bed and extends his hand to me. When I take it, he pulls me so I stand in the space between his legs.

“How was the day?” he asks with both of his hands on my waist. 

I hum, quirking a brow and tilting my head a bit “At least tomorrow - you know, the most unspecial, completely ordinary day of the year -” this earns a giggle from my boyfriend “is Sunday and I can just ignore all of that” I wave my hand in the direction of the adjacent room, where my laptop - filled with texts, assignments, spreadsheets and appointed Zoom calls - is. 

At my words, Corpse wraps his arms around my figure, pulls my body even closer to him and plants a kiss on my stomach through my shirt. My hands, in turn, caress his upper back and soft hair. 

Coming in contact with the string of his eyepatch in the process, I lean back slightly, which causes him to shoot up at me with a small frown and pouty lips. He sits still, though, as I carefully remove his eyepatch, and, while his eyes are still closed, I give each of his lids a peck. He smiles and tilts his head up to meet my lips in a long, tender and effortless kiss. Oh finally.

The idea of quarantining together was welcomed as a blessing by both of us. It meant more time spent together after all. However, with my school and work demands and Corpse’s irregular schedule, we still barely see each other throughout the day in spite of being a few feet apart from one another. And when bedtime rolls in, we’re both so exhausted all we can do is mumble words that could be counted in the fingers of one hand before drifting off. This, of course, when my boyfriend doesn’t stay up until dawn working. Don’t get me wrong, I’m his number 1 fan and admire his passion and all the hard work he puts in everything he sets his mind to, but I’m also not going to lie and say I don’t miss his warmth at night. Hence I want to devote this Sunday to him.

After a while, I break the silence “I’ll be right back.”

I let go of his hold and take my turn to use the bathroom. After doing my night routine, brushing my teeth and getting into my cozy pajamas, I walk back in the dark room and lie down, settling myself back in Corpse’s hug like two puzzle pieces matching together.

~~~~~

The excitement for a new day - not any day, no, but August 8th - washes over me as soon as I open my eyes and get a glimpse of the sleepy boy next to me. 

A couple of minutes go by as I contemplate on getting up, torn between prolonging our cuddling for some more and doing something to show Corpse my appreciation for him. The latter wins and I, cautious not to wake him up, slowly unwrap my arms from him and step out of the bed. Drawing the curtains to make sure the summer daylight doesn’t disturb his peaceful state of mind, I make my way out of the room and to the kitchen. 

Wondering what to make for breakfast, I take a good look around until my eyes catch the plethora of fruits we’ve bought a few days ago. Fruit salad it is. 

Corpse has, for as long as we’ve known each other, made it very clear he isn’t too fond of his anniversary and similar celebrations - and, even if he hadn’t explained it to me, it’s rather evident how uncomfortable they make him. This year, his friends’ and especially his fans’ hype for the date - although unintentionally - has added an extra layer of unease to it all, to which I don’t intend to contribute.

Even though I don’t want to make matters worse and would never overstep his boundaries like this (because, thankfully, I’m not Betty Cooper and he isn’t Jughead Jones), I still want to celebrate Corpse. I want to celebrate his birth and his existence, which I’m immensely grateful for. He’s both the best friend I can confide in blindly and the lover I want to share my lifetime with. He sticks to his truth and dreams higher than I could ever imagine. He turns the darkness in the world and in his mind into light with his words and with his laugh. Having him in my life is one of the best things to ever happen to me and seeing him fly makes me more proud than I can put into words. 

There’s a lot to toast to, so the solution is a celebration that is so smooth and so chill - the smoothest and most chill possible - that it doesn’t even feel like one. Just log off and enjoy a laid back day together.

As I chop a kiwi and make a mental list of fun and uncomplicated things we can do that don’t require much time and many skills, in walks Corpse, in an old white tee which is one too many sizes bigger than him and in his black sweatpants. He rubs his eyes and lets a raspy “good morning”.

“Mornin- wow! They really weren’t lying when they said when you hit 24, hotness knocks at your door”

He chuckles and shakes his head “No one’s said that”

“Well, then consider yourself the muse of a new proverb, baby”

He scrunches up his nose in response before grabbing the cup of orange juice I’d placed on the counter and taking a gulp. 

“Thank you” he turns my face and gives me an orange-flavoured kiss, neither of us having ever really cared about morning breath. 

“For calling you hot? Oh save it to when I’m done with the list of cheesy compliments I have for you” I take a grape and before I can get it in my mouth, he steals it, with wrinkles on the corner of his eyes.

“Then we’d be here for eternity!” he’s not wrong.

Corpse helps me put the fresh fruits in bowls and, with them and our juice cup in hand, we head to the balcony. Sitting next to each other, we calmly eat, take in the light blue sky and the cars and passersby changing the scenery ahead of us. Conversation flows naturally.

As we empty our bowls - after stealing many bits from each other -, I twist in my seat and face him “Hey, Corpse, do you see this?” I point to the very prominent and familiar dark circles under my eyes. “Wanna help me get rid of them?” I ask, knowing damn well it’d take a lifetime for them to actually go away and not giving up regardless.

~~~~~

The bathroom is filled with chatter and laughter and the sink, with hair clips, scrunchies, a sharpie, bowls, hair products and a towel. Corpse hisses as our cool homemade face mask comes in contact with his skin. His curly hair is pushed back and held by a blue hairband and I apply the mask to his face, making sure not to leave any spots uncovered. Well, that’s what I’m trying to do, which becomes an unnecessarily challenging task when my lovely partner can’t be still for more than two seconds. 

He kept switching between dancing to Soulmate, by Mac Miller, and mouthing its lyrics. Now that I got him - after a small threat that I wouldn’t hesitate putting this weird mix we made in his pretty mouth - to keep his lips together, the (adorable, admittedly) swaying, however, continues. He stops momentarily, only to shuffle things around right after.

Something cold touches my skin, making it my turn to let out a hiss this time. The sound is accompanied by a small jump, caused by the surprise. Corpse chuckles and, when I glance at the spot on my arm the cold thing came in contact with, I realize it’s just the sharpie. All he does is give me a mischievous smile.

While I keep massaging his face and covering it with the mask, Corpse litters my body with his drawings. Smiley faces, lightning bolts, hearts, clouds... his repertoire is vast and any exposed skin he can find becomes his canvas. Each line causing me to giggle and shudder a little. With him focused on his creations, it’s 10 times easier for me to complete my task. 

“Alright, my turn” he states, smiling, and I’m quick to grab the sharpie. 

As he adjusts a matching hairband on my head, I put a dainty heart on his neck. And, as he takes the bowl in his hands, I swiftly plant a kiss on top of the drawing. At this, he sighs in content and my chest gets warmer.

I soon understand how hard it was for him to stay still as Stay comes on and all I want to do is have a little karaoke session and dance. Corpse entertains himself with my struggle and, because it’s his birthday, I’ll let it slide. So, to make the whole process easier, instead of focusing on the song, I focus on the gorgeous face in front of me. A beautiful face to a beautiful soul. 

One of the various perks of sharing an apartment with Corpse is I get to see this face in all ways: sleepy, completely clean - no makeup, no mask -, all wrinkled in the morning, red when he’s embarrassed or when he laughs too hard… His laughter. Its sound pulls me from my trance “You’re staring, y/n” 

“Well, at least I wasn’t moving around, Corpse” I reply with squinted eyes and nudge his side playfully. 

We begin collecting the things scattered across the sink and storing them in the cabinet, and the song comes to an end, giving way to Dang!

“How long do we keep these on?” 

I hum at the question and check the playlist on shuffle on my phone “How does 5 minutes and 2 seconds sound?” 

Facing him, his grin mirrors mine and he spins me around. We laugh and allow ourselves to be as goofy as possible, jamming and moving our limbs around with a green paste on our faces.

~~~~~

After washing off the masks in the shower and painting our nails - so we’re both rocking the black nail polish look -, we’ve set our minds to - finally - finish the puzzle we started two months ago. It’s a 90’s anime setting inspired composition and we’d gotten about 40% of it done before our schedules got more hectic and the game, well, pushed aside. For weeks, the pieces sat on the ground of our living room and silently judged us every time either of us stepped to the side, as we crossed the room, in order not to crush them.

Sitting around the puzzle with comfy clothes, we team up against it and indulge in the wine Corpse’s got us and the hawaiian pizza I’ve ordered. 

As the picture comes more and more to life, moments of comfortable silence and of chattery - when we talk about anything from our shopping list and gossip about our neighbours’ lives to parallel universes and the matrix - follow one another. A different playlist on shuffle is our background noise. 

Time flies and the sun’s already hidden when it clicks to us that there are only 5 pieces left. Each piece is fitted in the whole with a giddier feeling than the previous. Corpse picks the last one - deep blue with purple and black specks - and turns to me with an excited smile and an eager gaze that I’m sure are mirrored on my face. I nod encouragingly. He places it in the puzzle and celebratory sounds fill the room.

Corpse stretches his arms and pulls me in a hug, but, since we’re both kneeling and because of the distance between us, we end up falling and lying on the ground in rather uncomfortable positions. 

“Come on, puzzle, that was easy breezy! Gotta step up your game if you really wanna challenge this duo right here!”

“Oh for sure!” Corpse squeaks as we laugh at our nonsensical brag.

After a moment while we catch our breath, he rubs my back and speaks, pulling my attention to him “Not that I’m not loving this position, but what if we watched some Drag Race?”

Is this man real? If I couldn’t feel his heart beating under me or his arms around my figure, I’d be sure he’s just a figment of my imagination. “But it’s your b- don’t you wanna choose something you like more? Li-” 

“Nope,” he boops my nose “Drag Race, or maybe Love Island, would be great right now.” And people still dare say the perfect man doesn’t exist!

“You’re such a dream!” I give him a quick peck before continuing “Ok, so I put on the show and you get more wine…?” He hums in approval and stands up. Our eyes briefly jump from each other to the puzzle and back to each other, then we simply nod. A silent agreement to leave the puzzle here. We’re both too lazy to put all the pieces back in the box and too proud of our achievement to let it go just yet; besides, everything’s been sitting here for about two months, what are a few more hours?

He steps to the side, gets our glasses and makes his way to the kitchen. I lie on the couch and scan Netflix for Drag Race. Corpse comes back, placing the glasses next to the couch, and gently lies down on top of me. He nests his head on my chest and we both hum contently.  

While RuPaul announces what the winner’s prize will be, I play with his hair, letting my fingers knead his curls. His right hand flies up to meet mine and I bring our intertwined hands to my lips, peppering his knuckles with kisses. The gesture is cut by a loud laugh that escapes my lips as miss Vanjie Mateo’s iconic moment replays on the screen. 

“Hey,” Corpse’s voice makes me look right back at him “I love you. You know that, right?”

My heart melts at his words and at the way he’s looking at me right now. I nod with a smile.

“I love you too, birthday boy.”

[volleychumps]

I frfr forgot if I requested earlier but Getting matching tattoos with Kenma maybe reader getting a controller and Kenma getting a mic. Cuz both are famous ig like he’s a famous YouTuber and she’s a singer but there relationship is private but they are seen in public as friends so like ppl peep both tattoos and start speculating. And they accidentally get exposed when she comes on his stream not knowing he’s live

I love this concept?? So much?? And it’s my first Kenma single work???

The Secret (Kenma Kozume x Reader)

The one in which you’re a famous singer dating the pro-gamer on the down low and accidentally expose it to the public

Warning(s): like a TINGE of nsfw themes like super light 

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

“All done?” 

“It’s rare to see that you are.” 

You smile at the sight of your boyfriend leaning against the doorway of your in-home studio, humming contentedly as you slip your headphones off. As you turn off the recorder and fiddle with the buttons, Kenma approaches you tiredly, running a hand through his hair let loose out of it’s small bun. The red hoodie he was wearing was loose around his frame, the bags under his eyes signalling that the stream he had just finished up had been a long one as he unscrews the lid to a water bottle. 

“I heard you from the other room. Real pretty voice.” 

“Sure you weren’t scared your viewers would hear?” You tease, accepting the water as Kenma scoffs, rolling his eyes before you feel him approach you from the back. 

“Can we not just bask in this rare moment of freedom we both have? Please?” 

“You love gaming.” You protest, feeling Kenma push your hair to one side of your head to expose your neck.

“And you love singing, but it doesn’t make it any less tiring after hours on end.” 

You turn off your ring light as Kenma’s arms droop lazily around your waist, the gamer digging his face into your neck tiredly while breathing against your skin. Your fingers find one of his hands resting around your middle, stroking the ink on the skin of the side of his thumb with butterflies in your stomach at the sight of the simplistic microphone inked on his skin. 

“I still can’t believe we went through with it.” You whisper, feeling his lips curl a little against your skin. 

“How’s yours healing up?” Kenma murmurs into your neck, lifting his head slightly to catch your own hand and examine the tattoo of the controller on yours. You wince a little bit when he rubs his thumb over it distractedly, the skin still risen a little bit from how fresh it is. 

“Stinging. Yours?” 

“The pain is worth it.” 

“Shut up.” You laugh, turning to face him as Kenma clicks his tongue, murmuring something about how that wasn’t what he meant before you place a kiss on his temple sweetly. 

“Dinner? We can order in.” 

“Right. Like we can actually go out.” Kenma rolls his eyes as you nudge him slightly, feeling a twinge in your chest. The idea to keep it a secret had been your initial thought, but Kenma still agreed that the two of you needed to play your cards right for the sake of your careers. 

“You know it would be a hassle if our viewers knew. And since when do you ever want to go out?” 

“Have you not been on your phone? They’re already kind of on to us after someone digitally enhanced our recent photos to see our tattoos.” Kenma ignores your little jab at his indoor tendencies as he arches a brow. 

“What?” You blink, a surge of panic rushing through your chest as you go to grab your phone. “Already-?” 

“Hey.” Kenma tightens his hold on you, and you still as the setter places a quick kiss on the top of your head while attempting to ease your worries. “Let’s not freak out. Not now, at least. Just...hang with me?” 

You relax, Kenma’s rare words of affection making the panic replace with warmth as you turn in his hold, arms wrapping around his middle tightly as his clasp at the small of your back. The scent of him fills your nose as you mumble into his chest, a wave of tired washing over you as Kenma hides a small, relaxed smile into your hair. 

“Alright, love. Sushi okay?” 

“Order me ramen.”

“Right! My viewers sent me in some apple pie, I almost forgot- Kenma, wait for me!” 

“You should have said so sooner.” 

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

The TV was still blaring on some random episode of a netflix series when you wake up, Kenma’s hoodie hanging around your groggy figure as you wake up warm yet alone, tiredly sitting up to switch off the TV. You blink once, and then twice again before smiling to yourself. 

Kenma had applied petroleum jelly to your tattoo for you, an open bottle of water already unscrewed and waiting on the clean living room table. 

The plates from dinner had already been taken and now laid on the drying rack along with the apple pie neatly put away in it’s box next to it. You had to hand it to him, Kenma made it hard for you to be annoyed about waking up alone. Wiping your eyes with the loose sleeve of your boyfriend’s hoodie, you check the time only for your eyes to widen a little bit. 

It was now nine in the morning, meaning that you had slept through the night without even realizing it. You sigh, going through your phone while still waking up before frowning at the influx of notifications and messages blowing up your device, the dms in particular being the most annoying. 

Are you dating Kenma Kozume?!

Back off, hoe. He belongs to his fans. 

Omg omg is my ship sailing??????

From: Asshole 

Are you two lovebirds trying to get found out?

You narrow your eyes, shooting a text back. 

-Kuroo, it’s too early for your bull. 

Listen lovely, it’s never too early. And matching tattoos? He wouldn’t get any with me:((

-Wonder why.

I’VE BEEN SHOT-

You snort before stretching tiredly, putting your phone down and wandering into your spacious bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth, a giddy feeling in your stomach at the fact that Kenma was supposed to finish up his live in less than twenty minutes. However, you stall, gaping at the mirror in disbelief. 

A groan slips your lips as you raise a hand to your neck, eyeing the dark bruises littered up to your jaw as you hang your head and sigh. You couldn’t believe you had forgotten that Kenma had gotten a little carried away last night, your heated makeout session on the couch turning into a little something more, hence the hoodie you now adorned. 

You blush as you begin to remember, shaking your head of such thoughts before tying your hair up. Oh well, nothing some concealer and color corrector wouldn’t fix- maybe a scarf or two. You begin to make breakfast after clambering into the kitchen, a nutritious breakfast of soup and fish with rice being carefully plated onto a tray almost half an hour later. 

Hey, is Kenma done with his stream? 

You sip some soup, tasting it as you type away on your phone. 

-Should be, Kuroo- why? 

Oh, his fans were blowing up his comments asking about you and I’ve never seen the poor boy so flustered. Hug him, will you? 

-Bringing him breakfast now. 

I’m so glad he met you:’) 

-Buzz off:’)

You ignore the snarky response from Kuroo before lifting the tray, not even bothering to knock or say you were coming in as you push the door open to Kenma’s gaming room after ascending the stairs, figuring that the stream was supposed to end ten minutes ago- 

And oh boy did you wish you had knocked. 

You almost drop the tray, stilling at the sight of Kenma’s stream still ongoing, the cat-like boy pushing back from his monitor in shock as he whips his head to look at you from his gaming chair- 

You, his hoodie draped hanging off your figure with no pants underneath, simply exposing your bare legs and your hair tied back messily, a tray of breakfast in your hand that signalled you had spent the night together-

and not to mention the hickies ever so evident on your neck. 

“Y/N-” 

You squeak, stepping out of the door and slamming it shut behind you just as Kenma’s comments explode across the monitor. You were in for it now. 

The tray gets slowly lowered in front of the door before you make a mad dash to your shared bedroom, ignoring the now increased influx of notifications on your phone from Kenma’s hoodie pocket before throwing it across the room and face-planting onto your bed. 

How could you have been so careless?

Heat tinges your eyes as you muffle a scream into the sheets. 

What’s gonna happen now?

You flinch at the sound of someone else entering the room, refusing to look up from your spot as a familiar figure sits next to your teary one carefully. A feeling of guilt and wishing you could turn back time weighs on your chest as Kenma strokes a hand through your hair. 

“Don’t panic.” 

“Don’t panic?!” You sit up, Kenma eyeing you evenly as he watches frustrated tears brim your eyes. “I just walked into your live!” 

“I know, I was there.” 

“Kenma!” You whine, and surprise etches onto your features when Kenma stifles a laugh into his palm, looking off to the side before taking your hand in one of his carefully. The other one wipes moisture from your eyes as Kenma stops teasing you, looking at you seriously through golden irises. 

“We’d have to let them know eventually, you do know that- right? Or did you want to keep us a secret forever?”

“I know, but...” You sniff, Kenma using his finger to tilt your chin up slightly to tilt his head. 

“But?” 

“I don’t want to...ruin your career.” You finish quietly, and you gasp when you suddenly find yourself on your back, Kenma now looking at you with a hard edge to his eyes as he stares down at you from his position on top. 

“Well, isn’t this familiar-” your cracked voice tries to joke. 

“Shut up.” Kenma rolls his eyes before leaning down so his nose is almost touching yours. 

“Would I have gotten this ink permanently drawn onto my damn skin if I thought you’d ever ruin anything for me?” 

At your loss of words, Kenma sighs before taking one of your relaxed hands- the one with the controller on it- and bringing the side of your thumb to his lips so he can mumble against it. 

“And this? This tattoo of yours means that you’re mine. Didn’t we get these tattoos because we knew we’d reveal it anyway?” 

“Kenma, you’re speaking too much calm down-” 

“Y/N.” 

You stop with your antics as Kenma’s voice softens, eyeing you seriously. “Don’t you...want to be together?” 

“God, what kind of question is that?” You frown, lifting your hands to cup his face as you look up at his pretty features. “You know I do.” 

“Then I’m happy you walked into my stream.” Kenma turns his head into your touch to kiss your palm. “Because now all those damn pretty boys in your dms know you’re taken.”

“Kenma, they saw hickies.” 

“So?” 

“I can’t with you.” You roll your eyes before releasing a breathy laugh, glancing at the phone screen from the floor across the room as it turns off and on, lighting your screen up with notifciations. “I’m taking it the press is eating this up?” 

“Like a damn buffet.” Kenma sighs, lazily beginning to trace patters into your exposed thighs. “You know what I can eat up though?” 

“The breakfast you stepped over on your way to pursue me?” You blink innocently, laughing when Kenma shoots you a tired stare. 

“Sure. Let’s eat breakfast.” 

“Kenma-” You begin to whine, only for your boyfriend to kiss your lips in a chaste manner, lips lifting ever so slightly when you blink doe-eyed up at him in response. The phones become ignored as Kenma throws his behind him, the press now forgotten as two phones now blow up beside one another.

His thumb strokes yours as the ink on both of your skin traces over one another, the slight sting of the tattoos unnoticeable as Kenma’s hands slide further up his hoodie. 

“Use that pretty voice of yours and tell me what you want then, princess.” 

“I’m starting to think you did this on purpose.” You murmur against his lips as Kenma scoffs in the midst of trailing kisses down your neck. 

“There’s a reason my stream didn’t end when I told you it would, love.” 

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

General Work taglist: @takemetovalhalla @savemesteeb @dreebbles @kasandrafaye @yams046

[haikyuu-appreciation-club]

hi taylee! can i please emergency request some haikyuu!! characters comforting an s/o who has had a really bad week and just needs a really long hug and to cry? maybe with yachi, kita, kuroo, and yamaguchi?

if you’re uncomfy writing any of those characters i also love asahi, tsukki, daichi, and iwaizumi as a backup! <3

thank you.

- Yachi, Kita, Kuroo, & Yamaguchi Comforting Their S/O After a Bad Week -

warnings: a few cuss words???

genre: comfort & fluff

a/n: excuse how shitty these are, i haven’t written hcs in a vv long time sooo i’m rusty :( i hope they bring you comfort none the less <3 also i apologize for any spelling/grammar mistakes

- Yachi -

yachi could tell that this past week had been rough on your part

the struggles you had been going through recently were clearly written on your face, yet she was nervous to approach you about it

she was scared she would do something to make your situation worse or say the wrong thing and end up hurting you more then you already were

however, when you arrived at her house with tears crawling down your cheeks she knew that her fear was inferior to what you were going through

as soon as you stepped foot through the door she gently gripped your hand and pulled you to her bedroom, the familiar scent of her perfume filling your senses as you down on her soft sheets

she immidently sat beside you, bed dipping to accommodate for her small figure as she wrapped her arms around your neck in an embrace

taking this as an invitation to indulge in her presence, your own limbs immidently found their way to her waist, burying your face into the crook of her neck and letting your tears flow freely

as you sobbed, she whispered soft words of comfort, thin fingers gently making their way through your hair in attempts to calm you down

soon enough your breaths slowed to a steady paced, tears long since dried and now staining your cheeks as yachi placed a soft kiss to your forehead

“i’m here if you wanna tell me about whatever’s bothering you. Oh, but if you don’t that’s okay too! i just wanna make sure you’re comfortable-”

a soft laugh escaped your body as you pressed a kiss to her lips to put a halt to her rambling

“i appreciate it, but i don’t think i want to talk about anything just yet.”

she nodded in understanding, shooting you a smile before grabbing your hand and gently tugging at it

you quirked an eyebrow at her antics before slowly pushing yourself off the bed and following her footsteps towards the bathroom

as soon as the two of you reached the doorway, she walked in front of you and dug through her bottom drawer, eventually pulling out a tube of overnight face masks and an applicator before eagerly shaking them in front of your face

a grin found its way to your face as you playfully rolled your eye and walked further into the restroom

yachi giggled in delight and patted the bathroom counter, insinuating for you to have a seat

once you did she unscrewed the lid of the face mask and let some of the product fall onto the applicator before tilting your head to the side and placing gentle strokes upon your cheekbones

she repeated the same the movement all across your face as she rambled on about a show she had been watching earlier and how the main character reminded her a lot of you

you smiled as the words flowed past her lips, meeting your ears like a sweet melody that you’d never get tired of hearing

the two of you soon switched places allowing you to return the favor and apply her face mask, listening to her laugh as she claimed how cool it felt upon her soft skin

after the two of you had finished, you took some silly pictures in the bathroom mirror before walking back towards the living room

you strolled over to the couch to pick out a movie as yachi sifted through her pantry for some snacks

the rest of the night was spent snuggled up by your girlfriend, laughing at the movies in front of you as the both of you stuffed your face with snacks

being in her company felt like a breath of fresh air after being buried by everything you’d been going through and in that moment, you couldn’t be more greatful for the girl sleeping soundly beside you

- Kita -

kita had noticed your disheartened state right away but he didn’t exactly make it a point to bring it up to you or ask about it

he figured that you would come to him with whatever was burdening you on your own time so he opted to giving you some space

but when you came walking through his front door on the brink of tears he knew that you needed him in that moment

he rushed over to your broken figure as you collapsed into his embrace, immediately letting your fingers find their way to grip his shirt as kita’s hands lightly tugged your head against his chest

you sobbed for what felt like hours, allowing yourself to let go of all the pent up emotions you’d previously held as kita soothingly rubbed a warm hand up and down your back

once you’d your wails had reduced to nothing but sniffles, kita pulled you away from his grasp and used his thumb to wipe off the remaining tears that clung to your cheek before cupping your face in his hands

“do you want to talk about it?”

you shook your head, too exhausted to replay the events that had been piling up this past week to your boyfriend

kita nodded in understanding before pushing himself off the floor and reaching a hand out to help you up

you gently gripped his hand in return allowing him to pull you up and guide you towards the kitchen

it was neat and tidy, just like the rest of kita’s home but the one thing that stood out was the small pile of dishes that sat next to the counter

it may have seemed strage to other’s but kita always saved one chore in the house for the two of you to do together when you visited

it was one of the ways he enjoyed bonding with you and reminded him that he’d be able to do these things with you for the rest of your lives

he lead you over to the sink before placing a soft kiss to your cheek and turning on the warm water from the faucet

you smiled over at his as he handed you a dish and the two of you began to wash the remaining silverware that had been left

it was comfortablely quiet at first, the sound of water running and sponges scrubbing were the only noise that filled the atmosphere

but soon enough silence turned to small chit chat which turned to laughing and giggling as you dried the dishes together

although your week had been absolute hell, being able to spend time with the one you love definitely made up for it

- Kuroo -

kuroo had always had a knack for reading people so when everything began going downhill for you, he noticed quite quickly

he knew this week had been giving you hell, watching as you strung yourself very thin as you tried your best to juggle the numerous bumps in your road

it hurt him to watch you become so overwhelmed, especially as you sat on his couch, scrolling through your phone with a quivering lip in attempts to not cry in front of your boyfriend

he sighed as he sat himself down beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and tugging you into his chest

“Quit doing that.”

“Q-Quit doing what?”

he looked down at you with a soft smile adoring his features before placing a kiss to the top of your head

“Acting like you can’t let yourself cry in front of me”

at that, one blink was enough to allow the tears you had been holding back to run freely down your cheeks

kuroo held your head in his hands as he rocked you gently back and forth

his body was warm, and the way you swayed in his embrace reduced your hiccups and cries to nothing but soft whimpers

the two of you sat for a moment in each other’s arms before you heard a chuckle escape kuroo’s lips

he untangled your arms from his torso and cupped you cheeks in his hands before squishing them together and beginning his main method of cheering you up

“You are, my fire..”

“Testuro-”

“The one, desire..”

“Testuro i swear if don’t stop sing-”

“Believe when i say, i want it that way.”

he stood up abruptly and extended a hand out to you before skipping over to the chorus

you laughed as he dramatically serenaded you, providing an entire performance to see you smile

at the end of the day, you knew your boyfriend would forever be by your side, even if he was a huge dork

- Yamaguchi -

yamaguchi had his suspicions about your decline in mood

you tried not to openly express how the hardships of this past week had affected you but he could see through the front you put up

it broke his heart that you were going through a tough time but he didn’t exactly know what to do to make you feel better

you hadn’t reached out to him or given any obvious hints that you were struggling so he didn’t want to jump to conclusions or make you feel as though he was being overbearing

but on your walk home from school one day, as tears were threatening to spill from your eyes, yamaguchi pulled you to the side and wrapped his arms tightly around you, deciding he couldn’t let you go through things on your own any longer

“y/n, is everything okay?”

you shake your head as tears start to spill from your eyes, timidly returning his embrace as you clutch into his sweater

he felt his own share of tears pooling at the brim of his eyes as he traced random shapes into the small of your back, pressing an occasional kiss to your shoulder

once you had calmed down, yamaguchi intertwined his fingers with yours and dragged you down the path opposite from the direction you normally headed home

“tadashi, where are we going?”

“you’ll see.”

after a bit of walking, and yamaguchi humming one of your favorite songs along the way, the two of you reached a nearby convenience store

you looked at yamaguchi in confusion earning a chuckle and a wide grin from your boyfriend as he pushed open the door, holding it open for you as you walked inside

the two of you walked to the snack isle where yamaguchi began to pick up some of your favorites snacks earning a soft smile from you

“babe, what are you doing?”

“um, well i figured we could get some snacks and then watch that show you’ve been wanting to see? only if you’re up for it though.”

you began to tear up once more at his considerate actions before pulling him towards you and catching his lips in a loving kiss

you knew in that moment that as long as you had yamaguchi by your side, he’d be able to show you light in even the darkest of times

[honeymoonjin]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 10.1k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:

Sick of unsatisfying hookups, boring relationships or the company of your own hand? Apply today for the chance to be on bangasm.com’s very first reality show! Seven attractive young gentlemen will be vying for your choice of who is best in bed. All from different backgrounds, these men claim they’ll be able to rock your world, so don’t hesitate! Apply now!

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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: filmed sex/voyeurism/exhibitionism as usual, sub!jungkook, dom!reader, pegging, anal play, rimming, multiple orgasms, crying during sex, jk being a good good boy, dom!namjoon, sub!reader, bath sex, ageplay/DDlg, fingering, unprotected sex, pet names, spanking, creampie, aftercare in both cases

dedicated to my sfhs girls, everyone in the villa discord, and jk’s ass

DAY EIGHTEEN

All things considered; you were rather lucky to be sharing a room with Yoongi when you wake up that morning.

The second consciousness returns to you, it brings a feeling of nausea so abrupt that you’re careening off the bed and rushing to bed over the toilet without a second’s thought, body running on survival mode.

You’re not sure what wakes Yoongi - the sudden absence of pressure and heat against him, or the sound of you throwing up all the food and alcohol you’d consumed last night – but it takes mere moments before you feel him gently caressing your trembling body, lifting your tangled hair back off your face.

“Just let it out,” he coos softly as you bend over miserably, the sour taste on your tongue making your stomach turn again, “you’ll feel better after, I promise. That’s it.”

The moment you finally have nothing left to empty out, you collapse sideways onto the cool bathroom tile, hand curling over your stomach. Yoongi gets up to flush the toilet and gets out a spare toothbrush from under his sink, pressing it into your hand already prepped with toothpaste. “I’m sorry,” you mumble lowly, nose running slightly as you sniffle. “I think I drank too much. That green apple soju fucking sucks, too.”

The doctor has the good graces to smile at your attempt of lightening the mood, but it’s strained, waiting for you to begin brushing the acrid leftovers from your mouth before speaking. “You’d better have a light breakfast, okay? Some toast and maybe a cup of herbal tea to settle your stomach. Can you stand? I’ll get you some fresh clothes from your room while you take a shower here.”

Your heart warms at his endearing bedside manner. “I’ll be fine, Yoongi.”

“It’s non-negotiable, I’m afraid,” Yoongi says with a mock sigh. “Come on; you can wash your hair, too. Feeling nice and clean will help.”

Sniffing one last time, you give him an agreeing nod and hunker up on your knees, before standing. God, but why do you still feel so nauseous? That fucking soju. Yoongi must see the discomfort on your face, because he gives your shoulder a squeeze. “Not to worry, I’m sure I have something here you can take which will make you feel better. You aren’t the first person to not handle their liquor in the villa.”

You give him a questioning frown, your throat feeling raw as you clear it lightly. “What do you mean? Everyone seemed okay yesterday.”

“Hoseok texted me,” Yoongi answers with a shrug. “I didn’t see it ‘til after you fell asleep, but apparently poor Tae was curled up with a hot water bottle last night feeling rather sorry for himself. I think he got a little trigger-happy on his Sprite and soju mixers.”

Your brows furrow in concern, your own condition forgotten. “Is he alright?” You mentally kick yourself for not being more attentive to him. The last thing you wanted was for him to feel excluded now that he was voted out.

“He’s fine, I’m sure. Hoseokie and Jimin apparently actually spent the night in the bunk room with him, because both refused to leave. Stranger things have happened, I suppose.”

“Holy shit,” you muse. “If you weren’t so busy filling me like a cream puff maybe we could’ve witnessed that.”

Yoongi’s mouth gapes at your jibe, and you let out a hiccupping giggle when he rushes you, jabbing at your sides. “You little shit! That’s how you repay me after yesterday?”

You chuckle, feeling significantly more cheerful than when you woke up. “I gotta keep you humble, Doctor Min.”

His shoulders jump with a fond huff. “You’re impossible,” he gives in with a begrudging smile. “Now go; shower! I’ll be back.”

By the time you’re downstairs, enjoying some lightly buttered toast and an aromatic peachy-tasting tea - laughing with Taehyung who has slunk downstairs like a viscous goop, slumped on the table sucking on a vitamin table - any concerns or worries about your brief vomiting spell have entirely left your mind.

--

Jungkook is antsy.

He cycles madly between intense eye-contact and complete avoidance of your existence, looking for all intents and purposes like a deer in headlights. You imagine it’s because he wants to do his prompt today, and you certainly could dispel the awkward tension by just asking him if he wants to go upstairs or texting him to dig a little, but where would the fun in that be? You much prefer cuddling with Taehyung and a chunky blanket, pretending to watch The Voice of Korea while you really watch Jungkook squirm instead.

Taehyung sighs wistfully as a contestant finishes with a belted high note, all four judges slamming down their buttons and giving the cameras big reactions once they turn and catch a glimpse of the singer. “I wish I could be on the show,” the masseuse says with another slow sigh.

You grin, poking him in the cheek with a single finger. “Is our puppy a good singer, huh? Do you reckon you’d win?”

“What?” Taehyung asks distractedly, his eyes locked to the screen. “No, I wanna sit in those big chairs and spin around. It’d be so fun.”

Your surprised laugh makes Jungkook jump in his seat, even as he sits on the opposite couch to the two of you and glares intensely at the pages of a comic book he’d stolen from someone, spending far too long on one page to actually be reading it.

Hoseok, who sits completely silently next to Jungkook - extremely strange for the normally bubbly man - is even more suspicious. Every few seconds, he shoves his phone under Jungkook’s nose, before pulling it away and typing furiously.

You had no doubt in your mind that he was giving the youngest contestant salacious tips, instructions, or both, judging by the way Jungkook’s cheeks get hotter with every message.

A lazy day after the drunken entertainment from the day before, the four of you had chosen to collapse onto the couch and stay there, flicking between channels as you idly enjoyed each other’s company. Namjoon had texted the groupchat and put a note on his door warning people that he was studying for an exam for a summer course he’d signed up for. This was the first you’d heard of said course, but his messages had contained several exclamation points, so you knew it was serious.

Jimin was also making the most of his privacy. The only glimpse you’d seen of him at all today was while you and Taehyung were cleaning your dishes. He’d rushed down in a fluffy white bathrobe, covering his face with his sleeve, bemoaning the drinking that had done serious damage to his clear skin. When he dropped his sleeve to bundle some ice into a paper towel, it looked fine to you, albeit pinker in the cheeks and forehead than his bare face had been before, but he swore the two of you to silence and determined he was going to lock himself into his room until he no longer looked like “an evil stepmother.”

Jin and Yoongi were nowhere to be found, though most of the house were almost certain they’d become something akin to fuckbuddies considering how often they disappeared together, and how rampant and shameless their sexual tension was whenever they cooked together for the rest of you.

It had taken a while for Taehyung to bounce back from his hangover, Hoseok fussing over him like a child as Tae clung to you for some tactile comfort. Spending a day by yourself hadn’t really been an option when you’d been cuddling with him for hours, but you were far happier spending some quality time with the masseuse.

It takes no more than three new contestants on the TV show to have their moment in front of the judges for Jungkook to break. Hoseok’s given up on the phone messages, instead whispering directly Jungkook’s ear as the boy clutches the open comic book in front of his lap  so hard his knuckles go white.

Laughing at the flustered camboy, Hoseok loses all tact and stops damping his voice, his natural level loud enough that you can make it out over the garishly aggressive appliance store advertisement on the TV. “Come on, Kookie, it’ll be great!” he insists, Jungkook cringing at the volume. “Switching things up will help your chances for fan favourite too, and surely you’ve done-”

Jungkook stands up abruptly, comic book still propped up in front of his crotch as his cheeks and neck go bright red. “If you like pegging so much, why don’t you do it, then?” he blurts with a cry, before the realisation of what he said aloud hits him. Choking on air, he just about trips back onto the couch in his haste to leave, stomping upstairs like a wronged teenager.

Everyone goes silent, a cheery female voice announcing that Subway’s quality is higher than ever being the only sound in the room. Mouth open, you blink over to Hoseok. “Should I… go check on him?”

“Uh- Yeah, maybe,” he admits, a slight pained look of guilt flickering across his face before he brightens up. “But it’s dangerous; you should take a strap with you.”

You pause halfway through standing up, Taehyung letting go of you and curling deeper into the pile of blankets. “Have you no shame, Hoseok? You humiliated the poor kid!”

Hoseok grins broadly. “He only reacted that much because he liked the idea,” he protests, before leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees. “And what about you, princess? Do you like the idea?”

You swallow, straightening up fully. “I haven’t really thought about it until now, I guess,” you offer up slowly. “I’m not- I’m not opposed.” But even as you say that, you begin to picture it. Jungkook on all fours in front of you, or perhaps spread out on his back, brows furrowed in pleasure, clingy and whiny. Though it was certainly new ground to you, most things were these days, and you’ve started craving fresh experiences, feeling more alive and excited about sex than you’ve ever really felt before.

A lightly huffed laugh leaves Hoseok’s lips. “I’d say you’re a little more than ambivalent, judging by that look on your face. Go upstairs now, princess; Jungkook’s ass needs you.”

You scoff, patting Taehyung’s cheek goodbye before leaving the way the maknae left earlier. Upstairs, Jungkook’s door is open the slightest sliver. A shy invitation.

You knock anyway, calling out his name. When his sullen voice invites you in, you slip inside and shut the door behind you. With his head hanging, shoulders slumped, poor Jungkook looks miserable. “Oh, Gukkie, baby, you’re okay,” you soothe, rushing to his side.

Folding his hands cutely over his crotch, he keeps his head down, but nuzzles against your stomach when you pull him into an embrace, running your hands through the long, heavy black locks of his hair. “‘M sorry,” he murmurs, lifting a single hand to ball his fist in the fabric of your shirt.

Your heart warms at the little action even as it aches for his sadness. “What are you sorry for? You don’t have to be sorry.”

Jungkook pauses for a moment, and you can just about hear the pout. “Embarrassed,” he explains shortly. “You probably think it’s gross.”

“Of course I don’t,” you deny in a soft yet firm voice, still stroking his hair. “Baby, if you want me to do it for you, I will.”

He looks up suddenly, chin propped up on your stomach. “Really?” he asks in hope, eyes glittering like entire galaxies.

You shrug. “I mean, I haven’t used a strap-on before, so it probably won’t be very good, but I wanna try if it’s something that would make you happy, you know?”

Jungkook’s mouth parts sweetly, before he lets out a dejected breath. “I don’t know,” he says with a sigh, letting his head drop off you again. “I still feel really embarrassed. Hobi-hyung was te-teasing me so much.”

You wince at the way his voice hitches and wobbles, like he’s on the verge of tears. “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry,” you coo. “I think he was just trying to encourage you. But if he made you uncomfortable, I can go down there right now and-”

As you start to shift away, a hand shoots out and latches onto your wrist, snagging you in place. “No,” Jungkook interrupts quickly, before turning sullen again, lifting up his head so that you can just barely see his eyes, gleaming with unshed tears. “Can you just stay with me?”

Reaching forward to cup his cheek and bring his gaze up, you send him your warmest smile. “I’ll stay,” you promise, “want me to help cheer you up? I don’t like seeing my Gukkie so sad.”

His bottom lip quivers as he nods, fingers tightening around your wrist, tugging you back to his side. “Yes, please,” he asks politely, voice still so hesitant as his gaze drops like he’s too shy to meet yours, face pressing into your palm. “Want you to make me feel better.”

Your breath hitches when his eyes dart up, just for a second, and reveal a glimmer that isn’t tears so much as mischief. You realise quickly that perhaps Jungkook is pulling on your heartstrings intentionally, luring you in just like he did the day after the fight, when everyone in the house bent over backwards to give him what he wanted. But you aren’t mad; truth be told, every second that passes, you grow more excited about what’s to come. “Of course I will,” you reply warmly. “Can I give you a kiss, baby?”

One thing you aren’t prepared for as you carefully straddle his lap and press your lips against his is just how differently he kisses when he’s in this submissive frame of mind. You’d associated Jungkook with hunger, fierce passion and need. This Jungkook was needy, but in a very different way. Lips parted, he tilts his chin and lets you take over, his fingers curling tightly in the fabric of your shirt, his long hair tickling against your cheeks.

And unlike the more dominant Jungkook that would kiss you until you couldn’t breathe, the camboy now seems impatient, hips shifting under you and whines leaving his throat as he breaks apart, lips swollen. “Will you fuck me, Y/n? I need you.”

Sucking in a breath, you’re nodding before you’ve even really processed his words. “How do I, uh, what should I-”

“The stuff’s in my nightstand drawer,” Jungkook offers up in explanation. The young man bites his lip, looking positively delectable. In a starch-white t-shirt that simultaneously swamps his figure but exposes his delicate collarbones with the v-neck, and his long locks tucked behind his ears, no imagination is required to see how easily he fits into this subby persona. Even as he’s physically much larger than you, and there’s no hiding his thick thighs and broad shoulders, his expression and posture alone convey plenty. “But, um… Could you- could you help prepare me first? I can if you’re uncomfortable, you know. No pressure.”

“I can,” you assure quickly, standing up when he wriggles meaningfully beneath you. “I mean, I want to. Is it, you know…?” You trail off, watching Jungkook scoot himself back so that his feet don’t quite touch the floor. He tilts his head in confusion. “Clean?” you hiss softly, cheeks flaming.

Jungkook freezes, eyes wide and mouth parted in a small o. “I- Yeah, it’s, uh, clean, I-”

“Sorry,” you grimace, “that totally ruined the mood, didn’t it? I’m new to this.”

“You don’t have to, honestly,” Jungkook says with a small voice, fiddling with the loose threads in the rips of his jeans. “I can do it.”

You’re really fucking this up, huh? “No, no, I want to, it’s fine!”

“I swear, I won’t be offended if it weirds you out-”

Without a pause to think, your lips are moving. “Pants off, Gukkie, I’m going to finger you,” you announce in a firm voice, chin jutting forward in your determination.

You hadn’t even intended to use it as power play, more so just insisting what you were okay with, but his reaction is undeniable. Jungkook visibly melts at your command, eyelids fluttering for a moment and shoulders going lax. Even his socked feet turn inwards, the complete posture of submission. The image of it sends heat through you, and you feel alive with it.

“Th-thank you,” Jungkook stutters, chest hitching. “How do you want me?”

Even though you don’t know the least about fingering or prepping, you’re quickly growing addicted to the way he responds to your authority, so you make a split second decision. “All fours, baby. And clothes off for me.”

Jungkook bites down a whine - how you wish he wouldn’t muffle himself - but obeys quickly, stripping all the way down to his socks, toeing them off hastily before getting on his knees. Clearly a position he’s used to, the camboy wastes no time in presenting himself, upper torso flat against the bed and back arched up to expose himself. With a cheek pressed against the mattress to look back at you, his hair slips over and covers his face.

Before he has the chance to huff, you reach forward and tuck it back behind his ear, tapping your finger once on his nose to make him scrunch it, a toothy grin on his face. “Y/n!” he protests with a hiccupy giggle.

“What?” you ask innocently. “I’m just trying to help out, baby. Can I ask you a favour?”

Jungkook’s grinning so widely that his eyes crinkle. “You’re the dom, Y/n, you don’t need to ask favours, you know?”

“Oh, shit, you’re right,” you muse. It’s so easy to forget that the control is yours, especially when you’re a bit out of your depth. Resolving yourself to be more authoritative, you clear your throat and school your expression. “Mouth open, Gukkie.”

Following your command so quickly that there’s an audible sound, Jungkook braces himself up a little with his forearms so that he can face you better with his jaw wide open and tongue lolled out on his bottom lip.

When you place your first two fingers of your dominant hand on that pretty pink tongue, you don’t even have to command him to suck before he’s wrapping his lips around them and hollowing his cheeks, blinking up at you for approval.

You try and use the past couple weeks of dirty talk from the guys to inspire you when talking to Jungkook, using your other hand to comb the hair back from his face again. “That’s it, baby,” you croon, “nice and wet; soak them for me. What a good boy.”

Keening under your praise, still bent over on his knees, Jungkook swirls his tongue and salivates over your digits diligently. It feels strange; the hot wet cavern, the muscle covering every inch of your skin. Your stomach flips in arousal when you begin to tug your fingers out and he pulls off them with a pop, drool on his chin and pupils blown wide.

“Alright, Gukkie, stay there,” you indicate, holding your spit-slicked fingers aloft as you get on the bed behind him. Cock dangling hard between his legs, he’s hunkered down, heels pressed against his upper thighs. You could easily reach him from here, but there’s something rising within you, an urge to play with him a little rougher.

He jumps and lets out a surprised cry when you rain down your other palm on his asscheek in a swift spank, head falling back to the mattress.

“Did I say you could lie down? Ass up, Gukkie,” you spit sharply, satisfaction curling around your ribs as he lifts his hips without delay, back arching beautifully to present himself once again. A roughly hand-shaped pink flush on his otherwise unblemished skin makes you bite your lip. “Colour?”

Jungkook pauses for a moment, fingers fisting the sheets. You fear the worst for a second, but it seems like it just took him a second to comprehend you, because just as soon as the worry rises, he lets out a cute gasp of realisation and spreads his knees further. “Green, so green.”

“Good boy,” you praise, relief clear in your voice. “A single hair out of position without my permission and there’ll be more where that came from.” Though you secretly admit spanking the responsive boy feels good in some odd way, you’d feel a lot better knowing when he’d intentionally stepped out of line, and so giving him a specific avenue assuages some of your potential guilt over the impact play. He seems to understand too, nodding his head sweetly and visibly flexing this thighs to keep steady.

This isn’t usually an angle you’re used to seeing on a guy, but as you gently circle the tight muscle of his rim, you marvel at how Jungkook still makes it look good. Entirely free of hair, ass, thighs and back thick and sculpted, it’s clear the visual is an important thing, especially in his line of work.

You can feel his body go slightly stiff when he holds his breath, but the slightest pressure makes him tremble, his eyes loosely shut as he focuses on pure sensation. Wary of the spit drying off your fingers too soon, you swiftly but smoothly slide your first finger all the way inside of him. There’s resistance up until the first knuckle as he clenches, but once you reach a certain point it’s like his body is letting you in. So tight that you can feel his walls flex, it’s an odd sensation to get used to, but you know from experience that the first intrusion feels odd to receive, too, and that only building up stimulation helps get past it.

For that reason, you don’t pause much before you begin fucking your one finger into him, using your other hand to grasp the flesh of his ass and part him. “Doing so well, baby,” you compliment when Jungkook lets out a guttural, drawn-out whine. Minutely, you feel his hips rock, seeking stimulation in the right place. You know he’s probably aching for his prostate to be touched, but you haven’t the slightest clue on where to find it.

Instead, your next best option is external. Once you draw your first finger out and start to stretch his rim on two, you reach around and under him, hand wrapping around his cock.

Startled, Jungkook goes iron-tight around your two fingers and cries out. You freeze, worried you’ve done something wrong, but he rocks himself back, burying your fingers deeper inside him.

Even in your uncertainty on how to proceed, you know one thing: he’s actively chosen to move out of place.

This time when you drop his length and come back up to spank him, he moans, face going lax and dopey. “Fu-fuck, please,” he breathes, “I’m sorry, I need more.”

“You need more?” you ask, soothing a palm over the reddened skin. “I didn’t realise you were in any position to be making demands, baby.”

Jungkook swallows heavily. “Please give me more, I can take it, please.”

“That’s more like it,” you state proudly, before cringing at how cheesy the words sound to your own ears. Although taking control is fun, you don’t feel as at ease with a filthy tongue like you were used to the others being. Jungkook however, unable to see your reaction, just makes a needy noise in his throat, hotly anticipating your next move.

As you start to move your fingers again, however, they don’t glide like they did before. Unlike a proper lubricant, his saliva has evaporated away, and the dry friction certainly can’t be pleasant.

He’d said the supplies were in his nightstand, but that’s well out of your arm span, so, thinking quickly and not wanting Jungkook to feel uncomfortable, you pull your fingers out gingerly, bend down and spit directly onto his winking hole, some of it disappearing inside as the rest runs down to his balls.

Since he insisted he could take it, you hook three fingers inside him, his hole stretching around you as he groans. There’s so much pressure on your fingers as you plunge inside, the friction aided by your saliva, and you can feel the way he tries to relax himself, clenching periodically.

As much as the spit helped, you become paranoid that it’ll dry out again as you stretch him on your fingers. Still too far from the lube, the thought occurs to you that you could keep him wetter if you just used your mouth.

The thought isn’t entirely unappealing to you. Sure, he doesn’t have the same nerves that make you feel so good when someone goes down on you, but you’re sure he’d enjoy it, and you’re reassured that he’d cleaned himself.

The second your tongue traces his rim, pressing between the tight ring and your knuckles, Jungkook gasps, before letting out a moan so high and keening that you practically salivate.

With your free hand inching around to grip his thigh and steady yourself, you press your chin between his ass cheeks and lap at him, fingers speeding up now that they’re better lubricated.

His hips won’t stay still, but you can’t blame him. From the constant trail of cries and whimpers, there’s no doubt Jungkook is extremely sensitive. Slowly, the thought of stretching him out for a purpose leaves your mind, and you begin to take your time with him, enjoying the feeling and sound of him falling apart from your touch.

You could get used to this; the meaty thighs trembling, the heaving breaths, the moans of your name on his tongue. At one point, your middle finger grazes a slightly protruding spot inside him, a different texture to the rest of his walls. The second it does, he jumps like he’s been electrocuted. Aha.

“Oh, fuck, feels s-so good, please do that again, fuck,” Jungkook babbles hopelessly. Your grip on his thigh quickly morphs from steadying yourself to holding him steady, as he jerks with every repeated stroke of your finger against his prostate.

Unable to respond verbally, you stiffen your tongue and push it deeper inside him as your fingers speed up, all corkscrewing directly towards that sensitive spot.

So noisy that he buries his own face in the blankets, rocking back desperately onto your face and fingers, Jungkook’s pleading and praises are garbled, one long stream of need until he finally lets out one loud, sharp cry and paints the mattress white.

Lifting yourself up to watch him cum, you speed up your fingers to ride him through it, devouring the sight of his red, untouched cock twitching and shooting ropes of cum as his whole body shudders with it.

There’s the undeniable warmth of pride in your chest at watching him cum so beautifully, at hearing and seeing the pleasure you’ve given him. You’d give anything to make him cum at your hands over and over, and in the back of your mind you marvel at how so many things the guys did to you when they dommed you make sense now.

Slowly, he comes back down from his high, chest heaving rhythmically as he catches his breath, going slack. You guide him to roll over onto his back, avoiding the puddle of quickly-cooling cum, and sit beside him brushing back the hair that clings to his sweaty face.

A dopey smile puffing up his cheeks, and eyes hazy, he blinks up at you. “That was so good,” he breathes.

Keeping your voice sweet, you raise a brow. “Do you think we’re done just because you came, Gukkie? I don’t think so.”

His smile falters, eyes regaining some of their clarity. “I- Oh, you didn’t- Do you want me to...?” he trails off, eyes falling down to between your legs, still fully clothed.

Though you’d love for him to make you cum - truth be told, your nerves feel like they’re working doubletime right now, and you know it wouldn’t take much - you shake your head, standing up off the bed. Jungkook whines and sits up slightly as you pull away, but freezes once you begin to undress in front of him.

Unbuttoning your shirt, you feel his eyes follow your movements hungrily. “I never even gave you permission to cum, baby,” you point out. “I also didn’t ask you not to, so I won’t punish you. But you did ask for me to fuck you and make you feel better.” The fabric of your shirt falling to the floor, you leave your bra on and slip off your pants instead. “So I don’t care how sensitive you are or how many times you cum, I’m going to fuck you until you feel so good you cry. Is that understood?”

Where such vulgarity came from you don’t know, but it triggers the right reaction, Jungkook going limp against the bed, grabby hands flexing at the sheets as he nods as quick as he can, one drifting dangerously close to his still half-hard cock. “Please, I wan’ it. Yes.”

“Wait patiently, then,” you command in a cutting tone, discarding your underwear without ceremony, “and no touching.”

He lets out a quiet huff, leg kicking out and hand slipping under his back to stop temptation. You would laugh at the bratty display - or perhaps even punish him for the attitude - but you’re too focused on stepping into the black harness of the strap-on you got from  Jungkook’s nightstand, working out how to tighten the straps and sit it right.

It takes you a moment to get right, but it’s surprisingly comfortable once you get it into place - which probably is the point. Though it’s odd feeling weight extending from your pelvis, the dildo is supported by a leather belt-like strap that runs around your waist. Right on the outer line of each hip, adjacent straps run down, under the curve of your ass and connect to the central one that sits between your legs like panties, albeit narrow and stiffer than fabric.

You’d seen ones with a second dildo facing inwards to go inside the wearer as they fucked someone else, but this didn’t have one, so instead your only stimulation was the slight heat when the leather would drag against your swollen clit. Happy to forgo your own pleasure for the sake of pleasuring Jungkook, you reach in the nightstand drawer again to pull out the lube.

Unlike Hoseok’s travel-sized bottle, the base of the drawer is littered with sample size packets of multiple brands. Mixed in with foil condom packets, you spy oil-based lubes, water-based ones, some scented, self-heating, even one that claims to be strawberry flavoured. Reaching for a basic water-based one, you rip it open and use it to slick up the dildo.

Jungkook watches you raptly, hips wiggling against the bed either in impatience or the effort it takes not to touch himself. Hyper-aware of the appendage that dangles in front of you, and how slippery your hands currently are, you imagine hunkering on the bed without using your hands probably isn’t a very sexy look, so instead you stand to the side of the mattress and instruct him to come to you.

He does so with obvious enthusiasm and anticipation. The earlier haze of his orgasm dissipating, his eyes are alert and his lips are stretched in an unconscious grin. Splayed out on his back, legs dangling on either side of your hips, Jungkook looks so content to hand over his dominance to you that your heart swells slightly at the sentiment of it.

Clearly Jungkook isn’t feeling as soft as you. On the contrary, his cock looks so hard it must be physically hurting him, the tip weeping precum onto his belly as he arches his back to entice you. “Please, Y/n,” he whines, hitching a foot up onto the edge of the mattress to bare himself more fully. “Gukkie needs it.”

Though it’s more your own hesitation rather than any desire to make him beg for it, you can’t deny that the sweet entreating voice is music to your ears and core, and pushing aside all worries you find yourself guiding his opposite leg up with a slippery hand, before lining your synthetic cock against Jungkook’s rim.

Immediately, before you even enter him, he keens, and although you can’t literally feel him rocking back towards it, you watch it catch on the muscle and begin to slip inside, and the resistance can be felt as a pressure against your pelvis where the base of the dildo is fastened.

“De-deeper,” Jungkook makes out with a gasp, his fingers reaching up to clutch at your wrist, and you push past the resistance to drive the dildo inside him, slowly but smoothly. His breath hitches, back lifting off the bed as his body tries to process the intrusion, and instinctively - a word you wouldn’t typically associate with domming - you grip onto his waist to hold him still.

Though your palms and fingers are still slick with lube, you manage to keep them steady on his skin by slightly digging your nails in. Jungkook’s mouth parts in a gulped moan, and you feel the pressure in front of your crotch suddenly increase as he stiffens.

“Green?” you check in quickly, so quick to fear the worst.

Jungkook is even quicker to dispel your worries. “Green, fuck, harder, please,” he babbles, shifting as much as he can under you to spread his legs wider in invitation.

You let out a breath of relief but pair it with a snapped thrust to mask it as exertion. Jungkook lets out a cry of pleasure that sounds more like a hiccup, his body rocking on the bed with the force of it.

It’s hard to tell how intense or rough your thrusts are when all you have is his response and the feeling of the leather base pressing against you to go off, so once you start to fuck him in earnest, you’re sure to pay close attention to him.

Not that you’d otherwise be apathetic by any means. Whether his beautiful reactions are a skill learnt from camming or he began camming because of his reactions, you don’t know, but you think watching him like this could never get old.

His hair’s splayed back on the pale grey duvet like a dark halo, red hot streaks highlighting just how long the strands have gotten. His eyes, when he manages to open them, glitter like constellations and plead like puppy eyes. Though he has the bone definition of a god, gravity works against the strong lines and puffs up his cheeks instead, making him look small and sweet.

With lips so pretty and swollen, he pouts and whines and pleads, teeth poking out to nibble at the pinked flesh when the dildo hits his prostate and he muffles a whine.

It takes a surprisingly little amount of time to find a rhythm. Though you’re certainly inexperienced in the art of fucking someone else, it’s really a very natural motion to make your hips rock up against him. Albeit tiring, you find yourself able to pick up the pace until he’s writhing under your hands, his own nails scratching at the meat of his thighs with the restraint it takes not to touch himself.

Taking mercy on the poor thing, you lift one knee up on the bed to give yourself sufficient momentum to drop one of your hands from pinning him down and wrap it instead around his cock, doing your best to time your strokes together.

Jungkook lets out a low keen and goes stiff, back in a violent arch. “Fu-uck,” he cries, and his face would almost look scrunched up in pain if you didn’t know better, the poor camboy overwhelmed by finally being touched there.

“Does that feel good, Gukkie? Am I fucking you good?”

He nods hastily, bottom lip trembling as your thrusts don’t let up for a second. “Suh-so good to Gukkie,” he confirms in a wobbly voice, “please fuck Gukkie harder!”

Quickly tiring, you don’t know if you even can, but you engage your core like it’s a workout and speed up your hips, the insistent rub of the leather over your pussy lips and clit actually beginning to tighten a coil of pleasure low in your belly.

“Yes,” Jungkook wails when he feels the dildo spearing him quicker and quicker. You use your thumb to press at his slit, dripping precum in obscene amounts as he sobs and bucks between your hand and your fake cock.

Once his thighs start to tremble violently and he can’t seem to take in a full breath, you know he’s close. Steeling yourself for the final lap, you ignore the rub of the leather and the pressure of the dildo base against your pelvis, and focus fully on Jungkook and bringing him to a second powerful orgasm.

“Are you close, baby? I wanna see you cum again,” you request, punctuating it with a squeeze of his cock to make him cry out.

Such a polite boy, he composes himself enough to answer. “Baby’s so close,” he whines. “Gukkie can cum?”

You smile fondly even with gritted teeth from exertion, glad his eyes are scrunched shut with pleasure so he can’t see you melt for him. “Gukkie can cum, baby.”

You make good on your promise for him to feel so good he cries when he reaches that high shortly after receiving permission. Tears spilling over his cheeks, his moan comes out strangled but stuttered and airy at the same time, almost like he’s giggling at the feeling that overcomes him. Barely anything comes out of his cock, already milked from the first orgasm, but his body is wracked with sensation and his lips are stretched in a dopey grin, struggling to catch his breath.

If you were a meaner - or fitter - dom perhaps you’d fuck him past the point of oversensitivity, but as it is, you quite happily come to a stop buried deep inside him, lazily stroking his cock as it softens until he hisses at the contact.

Using the duvet to wipe away the last of the lube and cum off your hands, you lean forward and cup this cheeks to brush the tears away and press a kiss to the button of his nose.

He shivers happily, lashes fluttering, and lets out a hum. “Thank you for taking care of Gukkie,” he whispers, before wincing slightly and correcting- “taking care of me. Sorry, I tend to do that when I’m-”

“You don’t have to explain,” you reply easily, kissing each of his cheeks in turn, tasting the salt of his tears as he giggles again at the tickling feeling. “Did you enjoy it, baby?”

Jungkook lets out a breathless chuckle, chest still heaving. “Fuck, like you wouldn’t believe,” he jibes, throwing a hand over his eyes and heated cheeks when you pull away. “But really; thank you.”

You slip the dildo out of him carefully, hearing him make a low noise in his throat as his hole flutters, empty. Rubbing his thigh comfortingly with one hand - if you knew one thing from being on the show, it was that you needed to shower Jungkook in aftercare now - you unfasten the strap-on carefully with your other. “You don’t have to thank me. I had fun too.”

The crook of his elbow lifts just slightly to expose the glint of his eyes, disbelieving. “You did?”

You beam warmly. “Definitely. You’re so fun to play with, Gukkie,” you praise, “plus, I feel like getting a new perspective has been really enlightening, you know?”

“Ah,” he muses, “entertaining and educational. I’m glad my ass served you well.”

A surprised laugh bubbles out of your throat; the quip a clear sign that Jungkook is returning from that hazy, contented plane of subspace you’ve grown used to. “Better put that on your CV.”

Jungkook sits up, affronted. Two fat drops of cum run down his stomach, quickly drying out once they spread over his skin. “My ass has been listed on my CV as a skill for years, Y/n, I’m not an amateur.”

“Oh, a professional ass man,” you tease, sighing at the release of pressure once the strap-on harness falls off your hips and to the ground, leaving your lower half bare. “Is that why you got on the show, huh?”

The camboy pouts. “I got on for many reasons,” he insists, “I’m very qualified, you know.”

“I don’t doubt that for a second,” you return immediately, and pause. “Fuck. We were meant to be bantering but I’ve just been complimenting you, haven’t I?”

He nods like it was intentional. “Yet another one of my skills.”

“You’re impossible,” you sigh, but even when he convinces you to join him in the shower, the conversation between you flows without a hitch, and your fondness for the boy only grows.

--

In retrospect, you probably could’ve worked out Namjoon’s prompt based on how he treats you that dinner.

Subtlety isn’t his strong suit, but you’re so hungry from earlier that you barely notice the signs. It’s not uncommon for the guys to pile food on your plate, but Namjoon’s repeated insistence of feeding you directly perhaps should’ve been the first flag.

The way he fills your glass of water for you, ruffles your hair, continuously calls you little… Yeah, you blame Yoongi’s delicious fish cutlet and rice meal for not paying enough attention.

Luckily for you - or perhaps for him - an opening appears when you’re cleaning up the table with Taehyung and accidentally fumble a small dish of dipping sauce all over your hands and front.

Immediately, Namjoon as at your side, taking the ceramics out of your hand and tsking gently. “Oh, love, that’s no good,” he coos in a low timbre, “you’ve gotten yourself all dirty.”

You could just offer to go rinse your hands off in the sink and change shirts, but you’re wired up from fucking Jungkook without your own release - the camboy was so chipper at dinner that everyone had surely cottoned on - and so a better idea comes to mind. “It’s running down my sleeve,” you offer with a faux pout, “I’ll probably need a shower to get it all off. Care to join me?”

Namjoon’s brows lift as he surreptitiously ensures no one else is in earshot. With a hand on the small of your back, he leans in and presses his lips against your ear. “How about Daddy gives you a bath, baby girl?”

You suck in a breath, nerves alighting. Oh. You can work with this. Straightening up, you latch onto his shirt sleeve near the cuff and soften your eyes. “Only if you take one with me,” you bargain, “I’m only little, Daddy.”

He pulls back quickly, and were it not for the hot flares of lust in his eyes, it would almost seem like he’d been shocked. “Go to your bedroom then, love,” he instructs, “and no running on the stairs.”

Of course you aren’t really an impulsive child but, as it is, his command  is actually difficult to follow. The urge to clamber up them as fast as you can, knowing you’re finally going to get fucked good, is hard to suppress.

You manage, however, and soon enough Namjoon’s in the bathroom with you, filling the tub. As you wait, toes wiggling against the cool tile in excitement, he unbuttons his cuff and rolls up the sleeve.

“Okay, clothes off, kitten,” he instructs, hunkering over the edge of the tub to dip a hand in up to the forearm, checking the temperature and stirring up the water, “it’s just about ready.”

You obey, tossing your clothes in a growing pile in the corner. Though it’s no bubble bath, he has drizzled some body wash in to give it a comforting scent, floral and sleepy like ylang ylang. When he pulls his arm out, there’s a ring of suds, and spots of water have already gotten onto his shirt. “You’ve gotta hop in too, Daddy,” you point out, smirking when Namjoon visibly falters at the title.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he confirms, shucking off his shirt and pants, “get in first, kitten, it’s all ready.”

The water is divine, a blooming heat that seeps down to your bones, warming you to the core. You immediately see your skin start to pinken, but the water isn’t unbearably hot, and it’s a pleasant flush.

The heat below contrasts with the cool air on your upper back and shoulders, causing you to shiver, but before you can complain you feel the water level rise, Namjoon’s arms wrapping around you from behind.

As you let him lean you back against his chest, you feel his hardness, but neither of you feel the need to comment on it. This is a porn show, and you’re going to fuck soon, sure, but for now there’s nothing better than a hot bath.

“Give me your hand, let’s clean this sticky sauce up, huh?” It isn’t until Namjoon begins to soap up a loofah and delicately scrub away at the black trails of dipping sauce that have run down your arms that you realise just how fantastic this prompt is. If you played your cards right, Namjoon would take care of you and pamper you all evening, fuck you silly, and then presumably put you to bed like a good Daddy. Holding your hands out obediently, you’re quite content to oblige.

“Sit up, kitten,” the academic commands softly with a press to your shoulder. Once the skin of your arms is unmarred again, Namjoon dips the loofah in the chest-level water, pulls it out dripping suds and water, and laves it over your back, making you sigh at the warmth. “Feels nice, hm?”

Your lips stretch in a lazy smile as you recall asking that very question yourself just earlier today. As much as you had fun domming Jungkook, and wouldn’t be averse to switching things up - quite literally - again, there’s no denying that your soul really sings when you’re the one being taken care of, played with, and pleasured. “Really nice, Daddy.”

The loofah gets dipped again, this time sliding over your chest and stomach. Letting your eyes slip shut at the relaxing treatment, Namjoon’s low timbre washes over you just like the aromatic suds of body wash. “I’m glad,” he coos, “I like taking care of you. You’re too little to do it all yourself, aren’t you? Need Daddy’s help?”

“Too little,” you parrot sleepily, “need Daddy.” With every word, with every touch of his large hands on you, you truly begin to feel little. Curling your toes against the base of the tub, you make a low noise in your throat and lean back against his chest again, head lolling back over his shoulder. “Will you give me a kiss, Daddy?”

He smiles at your entreating plea and wide eyes, eyes like crescent moons as he dips his head and presses a chaste kiss to your lips. “All better now?” he checks as he sits the sopping loofah on the side of the bath.

You bite your lip and shake your head. “I’m not all clean yet, Daddy.”

“You aren’t?” he asks with mock surprise, dimple deepening and brows lifting. “Well, that’s no good, is my kitten still dirty somewhere?”

With a single decisive nod, you grab his hand and lead it down until the tips of his fingers brush your folds. “Daddy didn’t clean here, ‘s still dirty.”

You let out a blissful sigh when he cups you, middle finger curling up to barely dip inside you. Namjoon grins. “In here?” Rather than wait for your answer, he smoothly pushes it deeper, massaging at your inner walls. “Alright, kitten, just close your eyes and let Daddy finish cleaning you up.”

A smile graces your lips as your eyes flutter shut again, head comfy in the crook of his neck and shoulder. You could get used to this.

He doesn’t tease you, but nor does he fingerfuck you with intensity or vigor. It’s methodical and diligent, like he really is cleaning you out. One finger quickly becomes two, and his other arm winds around your waist on the other side to roll your sensitive clit, making you moan softly.

Raring to go from unfulfilled pleasure that morning, your nerves go into overdrive, a building wave growing quickly in your belly. When Namjoon adds a third finger, crooking them inside you thoroughly to stroke your g-spot, it takes less than a minute for you to fall apart, thighs clenching tight around his hands.

He works you through it, only stopping when you whimper from oversensitivity, but that doesn’t stop you from whimpering unhappily again when he pulls his fingers out and you’re left empty.

“You’re all clean now, kitten,” Namjoon states, running his palms over your inner thighs to relax them. “Time to get out.”

You sit up suddenly with a pout. “But Daddy!”

Narrowing his brows, you don’t miss the slight twitch of Namjoon’s lips at your sudden outburst. “No buts,” he reproaches, “I don’t want you pruning up.”

You huff, scowling when he deftly tugs out the plug and the water level steadily sinks. “You haven’t even fucked me yet, Da-mmf!”

Namjoon sends you a cutting glare, his strong hand cupped over your mouth. “I should wash your mouth out with soap for using that language, little one,” he warns, “now out of the bath.”

You whine behind his hand, but once he drops it you obey and scramble out of the quickly-draining tub. Your body feels heavier without the buoyancy of water, and you’re dripping onto the bathmat like a drowned rat, but Namjoon pays it no mind, getting out himself with powerful thighs and a heavy cock dangling between them, passing you a towel wordlessly.

You dry yourself off, pout never leaving your face. He’s really just gonna stay hard like that and not fuck you? “Daddy…”

“One more protest and I’m taking you over my knee,” Namjoon says with a sharp tone. “I thought my kitten was better behaved than this.”

You open and close your mouth, unsure how you can get what you want without using vulgar words. Then again, perhaps making him punish you would rile him up enough to fuck you, and you certainly weren’t against some spanking. Sucking a breath in to establish some resolve, you stomp your foot on the bathmat. “You’re so mean, Daddy!”

Namjoon gapes at you, the way you’re bundled in a towel from your chin to your knees, scowling at him. “You want it, don’t you?” he mutters quietly, receiving a small nod in return. Relaxing for a moment, he slips easily back into that position of authority. “That’s it,” he spits, taking you firmly by the wrist and leading you - still naked himself - into your bedroom, “I gave you plenty of warnings but you still won’t listen.”

You squeak as he rips the towel from you and tugs you onto his lap on the edge of the bed. Adjusting you so that your crotch is right above his aching erection, his legs are so long that your toes barely brush on the carpet, all your balance resting on him. This had been the roughest he’d ever been with you, or at least the most domineering, and your mind whirls with how much he’s coming into his element with this prompt.

He gives you no warning before he’s laying his hands on your ass, small pats to warm up the skin before a sudden, stinging strike laces your nerves. You cry out, wriggling in his grip, but he uses one broad hand to link your wrists together in the small of your back, your face pressed onto the mattress as you’re held up fully by him.

He’s carefully merciless, spanking you hard enough that it burns, tears pricking your eyes and lip swollen from when you bite it, but whenever your cries of pain and pleasure turn too much to genuine discomfort, you notice he gives you an extra second of reprieve and swaps out to lighter hits.

“Apologise to Daddy,” he commands gruffly as you sob beneath him, swatting you without pause.

You sniff and swallow before you can compose yourself enough to reply in a wobbly cry, knees buckling and trembling. “Suh-sorry, Daddy, I’m so sorry, I learnt my lesson, ple-ease!”

You could cry when you feel his hand land on you one last time, soft and soothing the stinging flesh. Namjoon shifts, and then you feel light kisses being pressed all the way from your reddened ass up your spine, making you shiver. “Thank you, kitten,” he murmurs in your ear, and gently sits you up, lying you on the mattress.

You hiss when you feel the fabric scratch at your skin, but it’s cool and soothing if you stay still, so you take deep breaths and feel your heart slowly return to normal, Namjoon running his fingers over your now-dry body.

Blinking up at him with what you hope are sweet puppy-dog eyes, you call his name softly to bring his attention to your face. “Are you really not gonna, you know…?”

He grins fondly at your attempt to evade the word fuck, silver hair flopping over his brow as he leans over you. “You took your punishment so well kitten, I think you deserve a reward, hm? Some special time with Daddy?”

You light up, sucking on your lower lip as you spread your legs to bare yourself shamelessly, hooking one foot around his waist so he’s between them. “Extra special time with Daddy,” you insist in a small voice, lip curling now that you’re finally going to get what you want.

With a light laugh, Namjoon centres himself so that he’s facing you head-on, your legs comfortably resting aside his hips. Stroking himself a few times, he taps his hard length against your already-swollen pussy lips. “Relax for me, kitten,” he guides, and you keen as you feel him begin to push inside you.

You try to stop yourself from clenching around him, but it’s been a while since you’ve fucked him, and as usual the biggest cock in the house takes getting used to. “So big, Daddy,” you breathe with a groan, brows pinched together at the stretch.

“You can take it, kitten, you’re doing so well for me,” Namjoon promises, holding you steady and open with a hand hooking your knee up high by his chest.

By the time he’s bottomed out, hips flush against your still-stinging ass, you feel so deliciously full that you can’t breathe. You lay back, eyes scrunched, and focus entirely on the feeling of his girth stretching you open.

“Feels good?” Namjoon checks in, and you nod, wriggling your hips against him to indicate he can move. “Hold on tight, then.”

Even though it’s barely been a day since you were last fucked, it feels like so much longer, and having Namjoon fill you up over and over is so satisfying on a deep level, that you don’t bother muffling your moans, letting yourself clutch at his arms and enjoy the ride.

While Namjoon certainly isn’t the most lithe or experienced member, his cock is a force of nature in and of itself, and this time, with the heat of desperation and the excitement of your altered dynamic getting to him, he fucks you without holding back.

If he’s like this on his third time, you think, he’ll be a beast before the show ends, but then the head of his cock strikes right against your g-spot, and the thought shatters as a cry is ripped from your throat.

“Oh! Daddy, yes, right there!”

He obliges you by adjusting his hips so that every stroke rubs against you just right, and your mind melts, colours and sounds and sensation blurring together in one full note of all-encompassing pleasure.

You cum without warning, not expecting it yourself, and Namjoon curses lowly in his throat as you clench around him. The orgasm is powerful enough to leave you shuddering hopelessly on the bed before going fully slack, drained.

Warm, fuzzy tingles settle in your fingers and toes and chest in the aftermath as Namjoon fucks you through it, not taking long himself to spill inside you. He drops your leg to the side and leans in, pressing slightly ticklish kisses to your neck and collarbone, hands on either side of your chest to keep his weight off you.

“So good to me,” he breathes out lowly, nuzzling your chin up to give him a better angle to sweetly kiss you on the lips, languid and unhurried as he slowly comes down from his own high.

This time when he pulls out of you and you’re left empty again, you don’t complain, too thoroughly fucked to do anything but let out a contented sigh. Namjoon cleans you up, apologising when oversensitivity makes you twitch at the slightest contact, and then washes up himself.

Just as you feel your mind lifting out of that mental space of feeling little, sitting up a bit on his bed and trying to work out if you’d be able to make it to your dresser to put on some pyjamas, Namjoon returns and does it for you, helping you slip into a baggy t-shirt that you like to use as a nightie.

“Are you going to stay?” you ask softly as he lowers the hem over your head, arms slotting through the holes.

“Do you want me to?” Namjoon counters with an edge of hesitation, scratching lightly at his opposite arm, still naked.

You nod, patting the bed beside you. “If you don’t mind.”

Namjoon gathers his clothes and slips them on, not really appropriate for sleeping. Once he sees your look of confusion, he tilts his head towards your bedroom door. “I’m just going to duck out for some comfier clothes for sleeping, are you going to be alright for a moment?”

By the time he’s come back, you’ve already quickly brushed your teeth - hobbling to and from your bathroom like a newborn deer - and slipped under the covers, getting comfortable. Namjoon returns in grey striped pyjama pants and a white shirt, but he has something in his hands.

“You might think it’s silly,” he offers by way of explanation, the mattress springs squeaking as he gets on beside you, “but I like reading before bed, and I thought maybe you’d find it calming.”

With a dubious smile, you look at the book in his hands. It has the clean edges of a cared-for book, with the creases in the spine of a well-read one. On the cover, golden embossed stars and swooping font read The Little Prince. “You want me to read it?”

Namjoon returns your smile, warm and dimpled. “I want to read to you.”

The two of you cuddle together without words, one of his arms wrapped around your back as you lean on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. Propping the small novel up on his stomach, he peers over your head to read.

“Once when I was six years old,” he begins, “I saw a magnificent picture in a book called True Stories from Nature, about the primeval forest. It was a picture of a boa constrictor in the act of swallowing an animal. Here is a copy of the drawing.” He pauses, tapping you twice on the crown of your head to indicate you should look. “In the book it said…”

As he recites the novel aloud, you feel more than hear his voice, a low rumble in your ear like a rushing river or a slow-moving thunderstorm. It’s soothing, lulling you into sleep. His voice wraps around every word like a hug, enunciating each syllable with such care and colour and love, and always pausing when there were photos, even when your eyes slip shut and you begin to drift off.

Slowly, everything fades away. All sound is reduced to that regular heartbeat and warm rumble; all sensations are narrowed down to just the heat of his skin where it meets yours, his fingers lazily swirling patterns on your scalp. All thoughts simplify, the last six words in your brain, I could get used to this, before they wink out to nothing at all, and you sleep.

[kittehkwrites]

Self-care day

Warnings: fluff

Having a selfcare day was a necessity

It was the time in which you took for yourself to destress. You were able to just laze around, mostly carrying out your washday routine, and then eat whatever whilst watching movies or listening music.

Just a day full of You.

A few days ago, however, your friend, Yahya, had messaged you to let you know he was going to be in town for the weekend and wanted to spend some time with you since you both were on busy schedules.

You had told him to come over and have a self care day and take some of the pressure off of himself to indulge in himself.

you told him to come over once you had finished your detangling (this would be after having washed, conditioned, and treating, your hair.)

When he arrived, you had just finished sectioning and plaiting your hair to keep it from knotting overnight and layed out the snacks in the living room. 

You were getting ready to get the necessities for the face masks you wanted to review when you heard the knocking at your front door and then receiving a notification from Yahya that he was outside and needed to use the bathroom.

“Aye! I know you know its me!” He’d yell out through the barrier of the door and your house.

You’d quickly open the door, in hopes you’d reach in time so he wouldn’t pee on himself.

You’d fling open the door and before you can get out a hello, he'd be running in, shouting out ‘gotta go gotta go gotta go’ down the hallway leading to the guest room. You couldn't do much but laugh at the way he was acting.

You just closed the door, thankful your next door neighbours were out of town or else you'd be hearing a lot about your friends antics the following day.

Once he had finished in the bathroom (obviously making sure his hands were clean and he didn’t leave the seat up or forget to flush) he’d make his way back out to the front of the house and see you sat on the couch with a face mask on, eating a bowl of mixed berries and watching Futurama on your wide screen tv.

“Hello to you too sir” You’d say smartly, he would just turn and respond with a ‘Hi’ and say thanks for getting the door quick.

“No problem.”You would bite into a juicy strawberry and chew on it for a bit as you were so absorbed in the tv until he snapped his fingers in front of you to break you out of your trance. “We wouldn’t want you to walk around like that in these peoples neighbourhood” You ate another berry before placing the bowl down and asking if he wanted anything, pointing to the variety of junk and healthy food you had placed out on the coffee table centred in the living room.

He would take some of your berries, popping them into his mouth and laughing at the annoyed look you have at him refusing to use the extra bowl you had out incase he wanted some.

He knew it would annoy you and you knew he did it on purpose so you just shook your head and proceeded to pick up your bottle of water and drink some of its contents. 

---

“So what’s on your face?” He’d motion to the mask you had painted on yourself.

“This, my barbaric friend, is a face mask.” You’d get up to stretch before picking up the diy mixture you wanted to try out and pushed it towards your friend who was no stranger and had gotten up to change into his extra shorts and old hoodie he left behind.

“I know you no-” you’d cut him off before he could finish asking the rhetorical “anyways this mask is supposed to help open your pores and detox your skin.” You’d continue to speak while reaching for the clean brush that you’d use as an applicator for your friends face.

He’d look down questionably at the mix before looking back up at you, who was now standing in front of him and smiling, waiting for him to give in so you could apply the mask to his face.

He’d sigh before handing over the product.

You’d do a little happy dance at the fact he didn’t put up much of fight, but you chalked it out to be due to the fact that it was a self care day and he wasn’t meant to be worried about anything other than taking care of himself.

He’d sit up straight and come closer to the edge of the couch to allow you to place the mask on his face and to be safe in case the mixture fell onto the couch before it reached his face. He noticed the towel you had placed over the space between the central carpet and the couch (even though there was a gap where you could see the floor under the massive rug, he knew you were just being extra cautious to reduce clean up)

As he sat and let you apply the mask, he did start to relax and not long after you were finished and he could lay back in the couch, finally being able to spread himself out again to get comfortable for the remainder of the day with his close friend.

The two of you sat and watched a few more episodes before going to wash off the face masks.

As you were patting off your face, you caught Yahya staring at himself in the bathroom mirror and couldn’t help but ask “what did you think?”

He looked at his skin a little more.

“Yay or nay, Yahya?” He still didn’t say a thing to you. “You actors and wanting to create suspense” you’d let out as you rolled your eyes at his dramatic pausing and serious face he had put on.

Once you had finished drying your face, you were met with your friends kind smile and a “I like it.”

You wanted to slap him for the theatrics.

Had you thinking he wasn’t feeling it.

“Well mr. Emmy-Award winner” you start off as you both made your way out of the bathroom, disposing of the face towels you had placed out for you both into the clothes basket, “glad you liked it. That means you can buy me some masks when you travel to places like South Korea or Singapore.”

Yahya would let out a little chuckle.

He knew there was something up with you wanting to share your skin care and he now got his answer.

“Oh! So that’s why you wanted me to come over? To try on some face mask so you could persuade me to buy more when I’m away to bring for your bougie behind?” You could hear the teasing in his tone but continued to play along.

“I mean...” you’d turn around and shrug your shoulders to the man walking behind you before you both got situated on the couch again.

He’d look over, amused at your behaviour before chuckling and nodding his head.

“But nah.” You’d let out after a brief stare off which was caused by your straight face to his accusations. “I genuinely wanted us to hang out” you’d say as you picked up a bag of dried mango.

“I mean how many times do we get to see eachother or happen to be in the same city at the same time for longer than 4 days?” You’d say as you opened up the pack, in which he helped himself to a good sized palm of its contents.

“You right” 

“I know. Now stop eating my snacks when there’s enough for the both us”

You both would turn from watching the tv to talking about random topics or anything going on in your lives that the other missed and it felt like you guys hadn’t been separated for so long.

You guys shared some laughs, got up to make some food before going back to the couch to be lazy.

You’d turned off the animated shows and switched to playing music once you both cracked open a bottle of wine to compliment the food you'd made.

Both buzzed and full, you guys cleaned up any mess made and just let the calm energy in the room take over. You both caught the itis and didn’t try to fit it.

---

By time you had woken up, your head was on yahya’s shoulder and he was sitting comfortable with the tv on low and munching on some gummies.

He’d ask how you slept and you'd say great and he’d say the same before you guys continued watching whatever he had put on while you were still sleeping.

It wouldn’t be until the late hours of the night that he’d decide to head back to his hotel room.

You’d try to get him to spend the night but he said he wasn’t going to be able to leave if he didn’t leave now.

You stopped fighting him and walked him to the door, sending him off with a couple more of the candy packets amongst other junk food (which he technically stole but you weren’t about to start anything with this man when you were still feeling tired.)

As he got to the front door, youd both hug and you’d watch him get into his rental before closing and locking it. You'd clean everything up, packing away any unopened food items, folding any blankets, fixing the couch pillows etc. before heading up to your bedroom where you would get ready to get under your comforter for another deep sleep.

before you could sink into the dreamstate, you got a text notification  (you normally had your phone on dnd once you got in bed but this time you forgot) and saw it was from no one but your friend Yahya

“We gotta do another one of these again girl. These chill days aren’t common anymore” You’d laugh at the message as you imagined him saying it in front of you and hearing it in his voice.

“I agree” You’d respond and he’d send you a couple memes to show his excitement at the future of this possibly becoming a ritual between you both whenever you saw each other.

“Goodnight Yahya.” You’d send after snickering at some of the images he sent you.

“Night beautiful.” 

You’d feel the butterflies flutter and try to ignore the heat in your cheeks.

You may or may not have had crush on the man for God knows how long, but that was neither here nor there and you were gonna punch those thoughts and feelings to the back of your head because sleep was more important right now.

As you thought about other things, you hadn’t realised you fell asleep after blinking a couple of times.

It was lights out for you.

---

on the other side of town, yahya was waiting to get a response from you and after a good couple of minutes he figured you’d gone to sleep and decided to follow the lead as he thought about the day you both spent together.

One day, he’d think as he was getting comfortable in the bed before placing his phone on charge.

As he was about to fall asleep, his mind ran across the topic of discussion earlier and said to himself that since he was flying out of the country in a few days, he’d bring you back a couple of things for your future self care days.

He went to sleep with a smile on his face as he thought of the look of pure joy when given the products. Just thinking of your happiness brought him happiness and helped him fall into a deep sleep with thoughts of you running on his mind and the future of self care days between you two possibly being something he’d try to upkeep for as long as he could.

Hey loves!

Hope you guys liked this one.

Thanks to the anon who sent it in (sorry it took so long to get out of the drafts) 

Hope you guys are taking time out for yourself and keeping safe.

Remember to like, comment and/or reblog and thanks for the continuous support.

I appreciate you guys so much.

Stay safe,

-K💜

[mandoalorian]

Hi 👋 hope your staying safe! Can I request something with Santi, please? Could you write something where Santi and reader used to be friends as kids, Santi having looked out for reader when she was picked on or if she fell over at school, but then after he graduated they lost contact until years later reader reaches out to him randomly and they reunite, maybe fall in love??

Sorry if it's strange, I'm going through something similar but I'm trying to get the guts to reach out to the guy, it's nerve wracking!! 😳😨 Maybe reading something will give me a boost 😂

Tinder [Santiago Garcia x F!Reader]

Word count: 1,700

Rating: 18+ I guess? I don’t know. Nothing explicit, it’s just Tinder is an 18+ app.

Warnings: food mention, tinder mention, allusions to sex

Masterlist

Tinder. It was so tedious. An app that had gained it’s reputation for being nothing more than a “hookup app” or even a “sex app”. It was associated with superficiality and laced with sexual innuendos. It was the app that had been accused of igniting modern day hookup culture. It was the app that Santiago Garcia frequented every damn day. The man even paid a premium! It was a quick and easy way for him to meet girls for drinks and a quick fuck. It’s all a man like Santiago had time for. Falling in love wasn’t an option for him. It was something he’d never considered until Games Night last week. 

Once upon a time, Will’s small living room was just filled with him, Santiago, Frankie, Benny and Tom, but the head count had grown extensively over the past few years. Tom had reconciled with Molly, Yovanna and Benny had something going on, and now even Frankie was engaged to the blonde haired, blue eyed girl who sat quietly in the corner sipping tea and doodling in her sketchbook. 

Santiago didn’t mind the girls. In fact, he actually enjoyed their company, but their presence only had him yearn for something more. He’d never been one to think about settling down or starting a family of his own, but he felt an indirect pressure. Maybe trying out one long term relationship wouldn’t be so bad after all? But he was so used to his flings. How was he ever going to grow out of his commitment issues and find someone he could really connect with.

Truthfully, he’d already found her, about fifteen years ago.

You and Santiago Garcia were the best of friends. You used to do everything together; walking home from school hand in hand, singing and dancing when you thought no one was around, playing LEGO and building up jigsaw’s. He was your soulmate, in every sense of the word. But you can’t stay young forever and eventually Santiago left your small neighbourly town to join the military. And you never saw him again.

Which is why it was a surprise when you, half asleep at 2 am, and drooling on your pillow, lazily swiped right on his profile. You weren’t even paying attention. Just another tanned skin man with dark brown hair and chocolate eyes. It was a haze, and your desperation to move on from your ex boyfriend had you yearning to meet someone new. You groaned tiredly, deciding you were never going to find someone as good as your ex, switched your phone off and shoved it under your pillow before finally getting some sleep.

At around 3 am, Santiago still wasn’t asleep, thanks to his roommate Frankie and his fiancée keeping probably the whole apartment complex awake. He pulled out his phone from his nightstand and checked Tinder. That’s when he saw you. Before even checking your name, he could tell it was you by that familiar sparkle in your eyes, and the way your perfect lips curled into a smile. It might have been fifteen years since he’d last seen you, but just looking at your photo made it feel like yesterday. He couldn’t contain his wide grin as he flicked through your photos. You looked just as beautiful as ever, and Santiago recalled the crush he had on you when you were both kids. He wondered how come you hadn't settled down already. He knew you always dreamed of getting married and having kids, with a big house and a big dog. So why were you on Tinder?

In a simple spur of the moment, Santiago swiped right.

‘It’s a match!’ the words blew up on Santiago’s screen and illuminated the dark bedroom. Streamers and confetti exploded around your photo; the typical thing that always happened when he matched with women on Tinder, only now it actually felt like celebrating. This meant that you must’ve swiped right on him too. 

You spent the morning the same way you always did, laying in bed and checking the notifications on your different social media. Just before you were about to get up, you remembered how you’d impulsively installed Tinder the night before and, on a whim, you opened the app to see if you had matched with anyone.

You scrolled through the eight matches you’d gained through the night, frowning and twisting your face in disgust at some of the profiles. You really hadn’t been paying attention to who you were swiping.

Your eyes went comically wide when you read the name at the end of the list.

‘You have matched with: Santiago Garcia! Say hi!’

It was like time had frozen and you read the words over and over again. Santiago Garcia. Santiago Garcia. Santiago Garcia. You wondered how many Santiago Garcia’s lived in New York City - or more specifically, only three miles away?!

You hammered your thumb into your screen to view his profile and you were blown away as you went through his photos. That was definitely him. That was definitely your childhood best friend. Although his hair was once dark and curly, it was now short and slightly salt and peppered. He had a slight graze of facial hair in all of his photos, and in most of them, he was seen to be hanging out with a bunch of other guys. Wait- was that Francisco Morales too? They were still friends?

You were so nervous to say something. Truthfully, if you had come across his profile at any other moment where you weren’t half asleep, and hopelessly desperate for love, your fear would’ve stopped you from swiping right. You’d been in love with Santiago since pre-school. It had been over a decade but you still thought about him every single day and cherished those long lost moments you spent together. 

But the reality was, that he’d swiped right on you too. He was interested in you as well! Which had to count for something. You took a deep breath and typed out the words “Hello :)” before quickly turning your phone off and throwing it across your bedroom. 

You sat bolt upright in your bed for a few moments, contemplating what you had done. You told yourself it would be okay and asked yourself what was the worst that could happen. You sighed and forced yourself out of bed to get ready for the day ahead.

Turning off your phone was a good idea because you’d actually forgotten about messaging Santiago until about lunch time. You flicked through the television channels, holding a lazily put together sandwich in your free hand, and landed on a dating game show. You considered applying, thinking about how fun it might be, when you remembered you might already have a shot with someone else. Santiago. You dropped your sandwich on the coffee table in a frenzy, ran to your bedroom and turned on your phone. The painful minute it took to completely boot up sent butterflies rampant in the pit of your stomach.

Santiago: Hey! How you doing? I gotta say I was really surprised to see that we matched last night. It’s been a long time!

Oh my god. He’d replied. He’d replied three hours ago and you hadn’t said anything back. Shit. You wondered if you had already blown your chances, but little did you know, Santiago had been holding out for a message from you for a long time.

You: Right...almost fifteen years, I think! I’m okay. How are you?

You pressed send and took a deep breath. It was okay. Just casual small talk. It would be okay. You slid your phone into your pocket and went back to eat your sandwich. No matter how hard you tried to focus on the game show, you just couldn’t stop thinking about Santiago.

“Santi! You got a new message!” Frankie called from the other room, taking a huge, messy bite out of a candy bar and picking up his phone.

“Frankie! I’m literally on the toilet… can it wait?” Santiago cried, face palming and chuckling incredulously. Living with his best friend for five long years meant that Santiago had become accustomed to interactions like this.

“No, I don’t think so,” Frankie mumbled, knotting his eyebrows together as he read the notification that had popped up on the screen. “Hey, are you talking to Y/N L/N from high school?”

“Wh- what?” Santiago asked, feeling his cheeks flush.

“Oh my God you are!” Frankie gasped excitedly, typing in his friend’s passcode for his phone and getting inside. “On Tinder!”

Santiago finished up washing his hands and walked out the bathroom, an unamused scowl drawn upon his lips. Frankie swallowed at his best friend’s expression.

“This has to stop,” Santiago warned, taking his phone from Frankie’s hand. “I love you buddy, I really do. But you’re getting married next Summer. You can’t keep trying to talk to me while I’m on the toilet!” 

Frankie laughed and rolled his eyes before getting back to his video game. 

Santiago was shocked to be reminded that you had remembered exactly how long it had been since you last saw each other. He began to compose his next message. You practically screamed when you felt your phone vibrate at the notification.

Santiago: I’m well, thanks for asking. Would you be interested in meeting up sometime for a few drinks? I’d love to catch up.

Drinks. A catch up. It sounded perfect. You already found your mind racing as you wondered what to wear.

You: That sounds great!

Santiago’s reply came fleetingly.

Santiago: Are you free tonight? X

Tonight was so soon… but you were free, and it felt like you’d been waiting forever to reunite with your childhood crush. And he felt the same way. It was so exciting for both of you.

You: Tonight sounds great. See you then :) x 

You and Santiago spent the rest of the day in anticipation to see one another. You didn’t know then, but the accidental Tinder encounter turned out to be the long lasting and perfect relationship both you and Santiago craved. The soulmates were reunited at last.

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[five-rivers]

Long Night in the Valley Chapter 13

The car didn’t seem more crowded, but it was. Spinner had the dubious honor and privilege of being in one of Mr. Compress’s marbles, along with the doctor. Midoriya Inko sat in his recently vacated seat.

She was, without a single doubt, the most dangerous person in the vehicle. Mostly because she was completely insane. She had spent the first few minutes of driving detailing how she could blow up the car with her quirk and making sure that they knew she’d do it if she thought she had to.

What would make her think she ‘had to’ was a mystery Tomura didn’t particularly want solved.

He could totally see what Sensei saw in her, and he didn’t like it. He wished he could go back to ignorance. This questline was insane. The whole game was going to wind up broken. Had he killed an essential NPC at some point?

Eyeballs were small objects. So were most organs.

Midoriya Inko was someone Tomura could respect.

Would Midoriya Izuku be like this, if Tomura had an actual conversation with him? Their conversation at the mall hadn’t exactly been… normal. Tomura could admit he’d been using his intimidation skill to move the conversation along. Of course, Midoriya had struck him as a two-dimensional All Might fanboy at that point. Limited dialogue options. Killed in the next encounter. A hidden miniboss, yes, but just a miniboss. Not terribly important to the main campaign. Forgotten by disc two.

Clearly, he’d been wrong.

Which he shouldn’t have had mixed feelings about, but definitely did.

“Dear,” said Midoriya Inko, making everyone in the car stiffen, “do you have eczema?”

“The what?” asked Tomura, his tone too subdued to be considered snapping, because he wasn’t about to snap at someone who had convincingly demonstrated her ability to crush his organs against the inside of his abdominal cavity.

“Oh!” said Toga. “I know this one, Mom! It’s a skin condition.”

Tomura pulled his hand away from where it had been scratching at his neck. “I don’t have a skin condition. It just itches sometimes.”

Midoriya Inko nodded. “Yes, that sounds like eczema, I—” She stopped, blinking. “Did you just call me ‘Mom?’”

“Yeah, is that okay? Izu-kun and I are dating, after all!”

“No, she isn’t!” shouted Twice, the car swerving a little. “She is not! Only in her dreams!”

“Ah,” said Midoriya Inko. “I see. Well, I don’t mind you calling me that, but I think you really need to ask Izuku before you say that you’re dating. Make sure you’re on the same page, dear.”

Toga pouted.

“Now, where was I? Eczema. Izuku used to have eczema, but he grew out of it, mostly. I still carry some cream with me. Do you want some?”

Would refusing be dangerous?

Was the cream secretly poison?

Was this a complex scheme to get under his skin?

“Oh, Izuku mutters like that, too,” said Midoriya Inko, happily. “You remind me quite a bit of when he was going through his antisocial phase, actually. It would be funny if it turned out that you were related, wouldn’t it? Quite a coincidence, hm? One I’ll have to talk to my husband about.” The last sentence was as hard as diamonds and as poisonous as cyanide.

Tomura once again decided that he regretted everything.

.

“This is terrible,” whispered Tsuyu for the fifth or sixth time.

“Tres mal,” agreed Aoyama.

“Is it bad that I can completely believe All Might wrote this?” asked Satou.

“Why would it be bad?” asked Shouji.

“Because it’s so… bad.”

“And yet,” said Yaoyorozu, “oddly compelling.”

“Why does he use so much English?” grumbled Mineta.

“What a mad banquet of darkness,” said Fumikage, who was, nevertheless, also reading the fanfic on his phone.

“But, like, it makes it pretty obvious that All Might thinks the world of Midoriya,” said Kaminari. “Do you think he knew that other people could read this?”

“I mean,” said Jiro. “He had to, right? It wasn’t like he was born in the nineteen hundreds.”

“I don’t know, sometimes you’ve got to wonder. Like… sometimes it’s as if he was grown in a lab to be the perfect hero, you know?”

“Kaminari, stop trying to be Todoroki, please,” said Fumikage. “You do not need to dip yourself into the darkness.”

“I’m just saying,” said Kaminari. “And it isn’t as if we don’t know that there are a bunch of mad scientist types that would do just that, plus the Hero Commission is psychotic—”

“That’s unkind to psychotic people,” said Fumikage, glowering. “You know, most psychotic people never hurt anyone. The incidence of villainy among people who experience psychosis isn’t significantly higher than among the general population.”

“Sorry, man, just a figure of speech.”

The bus slowly came to a stop outside UA’s gates.

“My switch isn’t working,” said Green Light as he repeatedly pressed a button on his dash. “I guess they’re still on lockdown. We’ll have to wait for Nezu to come let us in.”

“Still?” asked Midnight. “Midoriya isn’t even in the city anymore, as far as we know.”

“Not that he was ever a threat to the school,” mumbled Present Mic, his quirk making him loud enough to be heard regardless.

Fumikage, having finished the fanfic some time ago, looked out the window and spotted two people in suits loitering near the gate. “Yamada-sensei, Kayama-sensei, who are those people?”

Everyone rushed over to Fumikage’s side of the bus to look out the window, rocking the vehicle.

“Ohh,” said Present Mic. “Yeah. That makes sense. Those guys are with the commission. Yep. Good ol’ Nezu, keeping them out.”

“Wait,” said Jiro, “does this mean we’re stuck out here, too?”

“No, no,” said Present Mic. “He’ll have to let us in… But then they’ll come in, too.”

“Midoriya’s room,” said Fumikage. “They’ll want to search it.”

“Can we do something?” asked Kouda, timidly.

“Should we do anything?” asked Tsuyu, bluntly. “We don’t want to incriminate Midoriya even more by making it look like he’s hiding things.”

Fumikage turned to Kaminari. “Anything new from Principal Nezu?”

“Why are you looking at me?”

“You’re the one he emailed last time.”

“Hey, Fumikage,” said Jiro, “do you think you can fly over the wall? Maybe you can get a head start on… well, whatever, I guess.”

“I don’t think we should do anything suspicious while they’re watching,” reiterated Tsuyu.

“Yeah, plus we really revamped campus security. And this is Nezu we’re talking about.”

“The Rat God,” someone whispered, reverently.

(Was that Shouji?)

“Exactly, exactly,” said Present Mic. “So, everyone, just, please, calm down. Just sit back down, and we’ll ride the bus to the dorms. Like normal.”

“Yamada-sensei, nothing about this is normal,” said Tsuyu, flatly.

“Well,” said Present Mic, “yeaaaah, okay, you got me there, listeners.”

“Nezu’s coming up,” said Green Light. “Aw, he has Eri with him. They’re so short together.”

“Green Light,” crackled the radio in Nezu’s voice. “Did you forget that I have cameras and microphones installed on all our buses?”

“That’s how he knew I was the one putting together the compilation!” said Kaminari.

Fumikage peered out the window and furtively opened it, so they could hear what was going on. Eri was definitely there. She was also sporting the deepest, most dismal, aura of darkness Fumikage had ever laid eyes on. Luckily, it seemed to be aimed at the commission lackeys in the form of a smile and dead, dead eyes.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen!” said Nezu, cheerily. “I apologize for the long wait! As Lunch Rush indubitably told you, we had a small emergency.”

“We’ve been out here for hours. What kind of emergency could have kept you for hours under these circumstances?”

Eri’s smile grew both broader and deader. “Me,” she said. “I’m the emergenny.”

“Emergency,” corrected Nezu, gently.

“Emergency,” repeated Eri.

“I’m sorry?” said the shorter of the two investigators.

“I’m the emergency. I hada—” she paused, and her face pinched slightly in concentration. “I had an emergency, because, because, you’re being mean to Deku.”

“We—”

“You’re mean,” insisted Eri. “You’re bad guys. Deku is the good guy, because he saved me. Only bad guys are mean to good guys.”

“Excuse me, is this Chisaki Eri?”

Eri hissed.

“Perhaps I could ask you to refrain from using that family name. We’ve been trying to get past what her form did to her, you understand. Teach her morality.”

“I’ll bite you,” said Eri, malevolently.

“Self-defense, as well,” continued Nezu. “It’s very important for children to be able to feel safe and confident in themselves, don’t you think? And the recent news dealt a serious blow to that. You understand, then why I felt that it was more important to take care of my ward and other students than to greet you here. Especially given that you wished to interview Eri-chan as well.”

“I’ll bite you,” repeated Eri. “A lot.”

“We’ll… need a look at Midoriya’s room, first.”

“Way to go, Eri,” whispered Shinsou.

“Very well! You’ll have to come around to the front office to fill out some paperwork. We’ll need a physical copy of your badges, as well as a copy of your warrant, for our records…”

The gate opened, distracting Fumikage from whatever else Nezu had said. Green Light quickly drove through, making straight to the dorms. Fumikage snapped the window shut.

“So, uh,” said Kaminari. “What’re we going to do about Midoriya’s All Might shrine of a room?”

“Should we even do anything?” asked Jiro. “If stuff is disturbed, that’s going to be suspicious. I don’t want to get him into more trouble.”

“It’s a teenage boy’s bedroom,” said Mineta. “The stuff in there is already disturbed.”

“Mineta, I don’t know how to tell you this,” said Kaminari, “but your experiences are not universal.”

“None of you are disturbing Midoriya’s room at all,” said Midnight, standing. “You didn’t forget that we were here, did you? If you say yes, we’ll have to take some time to work on your situational awareness~”

.

Nemuri hadn’t quite known what to expect from the words ‘All Might shrine.’ In her experiences, the word ‘shrine’ could, especially when applied to a person’s hobby or area of interest, could cover a vast array of displays of varying intensity.

But Midoriya really went Plus Ultra on everything, didn’t he?

“Okay, kiddos,” said Midnight, “what would you say was the most incriminating thing in this room?”

She and Present Mic were the only ones actually in the room, but the students were gathered right outside the door.

“Notebooks.”

Midnight nodded. They’d get those first, then search for other places Midoriya may have put evidence of less-than-entirely-morally-upright behavior. Not that Midnight really expected to find any.

“Where does he keep them?” she asked.

“He has a shelf above his desk he usually keeps them on, kero.”

Midnight looked at the shelf above Midoriya’s desk.

It looked back at her.

This was because it was a void. As in, void of any notebooks. An abyss of sorts. Empty.

There were no notebooks in evidence.

“This will be a problem.”

.

“G-Gigantomachia?” asked Izuku, turning up the sweetness in his tone despite his nerves. And pain. Yep, there was a whole lot of pain, everywhere. Now that he was no longer actively running for his life, it felt like he’d pulled every muscle in his body.

“Yes, Little Lord?” asked Gigantomachia, happily.

He was like a giant dog. Izuku almost felt bad tricking him like this, but he reminded himself that Gigantomachia was a giant, evil dog. So.

“Will you do something for me?”

“Of course, Little Lord!”

“Well,” said Izuku, “you remember how I said that Shigaraki Tomura and I don’t get along?”

“Yes, Little Lord! My memory is very good!”

Izuku blinked. “Is that a—” He cut himself off with a shake of his head. Not the time. “Well, I think that it might be a good idea if, ah, we established that he can’t attack me anymore.”

Gigantomachia stood up, shaking the earth and almost sending Izuku tumbling down. “HE ATTACKED YOU?”

Maybe this would be easier than he thought. “Yeah. A couple times. I’m okay, though!” He waved his hands. “I just think that it might be a good idea if we established a, uh, a pecking order. Sort of.”

“I’M GOING TO PECK HIM TO DEATH.”

“Please do not actually kill him.”

“I’M GOING TO PECK HIM MOSTLY TO DEATH.”

“That’s the spirit,” said Izuku.

“I’LL SHOW HIM YOU’RE IN CHARGE. YOU’RE MUCH BETTER THAN HE IS. MUCH MORE LIKE LORD.”

Wow. That was… certainly a statement. That Izuku was going to try his best to forget forever.

“Right. So. If you see him, do that,” said Izuku, nodding.

“OF COURSE, LITTLE LORD.”

“And, this is just a reminder, but don’t go into towns.”

“I WILL REMEMBER!”

“Great,” said Izuku. “I’m going to go back in and, uh…” He couldn’t say ‘plot my escape with Toshinori.’ “Rest,” he settled on.

“Oh!” Gigantomachia crouched down, his voice suddenly whisper-soft. Assuming rocks could be described as whispering. “Sleep well, Little Lord!”

“Thanks,” said Izuku, beating a hasty retreat.

.

“Stop the car!”

“But you said-!”

“Just stop the car, Twice.”

There was a not-at-all hidden ‘or else’ in those words. Twice, once again, stopped the car.

“Oh, my,” said Midoriya Inko, leaning forward. “That man up there looks remarkably like the sitter Hisashi hired for Izuku.”

“Oh, god,” said Tomura, dragging his hands down the sides of his face in lieu of looking out the window. “We aren’t prepared for this level.”

Midoriya Inko suddenly disappeared. Tomura made a noise in the back of his throat that wasn’t at all a scream.

Mr. Compress raised his hands defensively. “I thought it best to marble her while she was distracted. We wouldn’t want her to get injured in ”

“Wow! Way to go, Mr. Compress!” said Toga, giving the other villain a hug. “Good thinking!”

“Yeah!” agreed Twice. “Now she can’t hurt us—But she sure can when you let her out!”

“Which is why I propose we bring her to Giran at the first feasible opportunity. Between him and the doctor, I’m sure they can make arrangements for her that we need not be involved in. And I will make sure we are all far, far away when I let her out.”

There was a series of sighs of relief.

“Good idea,” croaked Tomura. “But what are we going to do about—” He swore vehemently. “He’s seen us, he’s seen us we’ve got aggro! Reverse!”

.

“Is that Vlad-sensei’s car?”

“Unfortunately,” said Toshinori, “I think it is. Oh, dear, the man’s one to hold a grudge. I think I’ll have a new nemesis by the end of this.”

.

Today had been a very annoying day in general for Vlad King, but for some reason, his sense of annoyance suddenly doubled. This made his hands clench and thereby tear the piece of paper he was holding.

Scratch that. His sense of annoyance had tripled.

“Yagi,” he muttered, “I am going to sue you so much.”

“What was that?” asked Hound Dog, looking away from the video feed displaying Eri-chan scarring Hero Commission agents for life in her undeniably cute way.

“Nothing,” muttered Vlad.

.

All for One paused in his assault of the vault door. He couldn’t help but feel like someone somewhere had said something unusually aggravating.

Ah, well. He had other things to worry about.

.

“Ah,” said Toshinori as one of Gigantomachia’s fists tore off the bumper of the rapidly reversing car. “Hm,” he continued as Shigaraki climbed out on the hood, grinning. “I think we should go, now.”

Izuku nodded. They could only hope to get far away enough away for Gigantomachia to be unable to hunt them down.

If they ran into any other problems…

.

Dabi paused as he heard quite a lot of noise from up ahead and rolled his eyes, ignoring how the movement pulled at his staples. The idiots had already started fighting Gigantomachia. Well. He didn’t want any part of that.

He changed directions. Hanging out in the woods it was, then.

Eh. It was good for him. Fresh (cold) air. Sunshine (sort of). Readily available reminders of why he hated his father.

Nature was great. If only he could burn it all down without blowing cover.

.

“Oh, no,” said a hapless technician.

“What?” asked the commission supervisor who’d brough the sample to the lab. “What is it? Is he related to the Scourge of Kamino?”

“Well,” squeaked the woman, her mousy ears twitching. “Yes. But I ran him through a few other databases as well, and…” she trailed off. “Well… The number of cross references in the hero database is staggering, but, of course, if he’s related to them, and to the other, well…”

The commission supervisor grabbed the edge of her monitor and twisted it around to face him. She watched the blood drain from his face and refrained from calling him out on his rudeness.

“Why,” he asked, “didn’t they run the Scourge of Kamino’s DNA through these databases?”

“I guess they didn’t think it was necessary?”

“Excuse me,” he said, “I have to make a few calls.”

.

“You want us to attack the League of Villains now?” asked Hawks, frowning. “You’ve had me following them around for weeks, and you want us to go in now, with next to no preparation? We don’t even know if the rest of the League is with Dabi.”

What had they found out from Midoriya’s blood sample? Had it turned out the way Dabi had expected.

Was Midoriya Izuku the son of All for One?

“Alright, alright,” he said in response to his handler. He sighed deeply, leaning back to better look at the sky. “But even I’m going to need a couple hours to get everything together and start coordinating with other heroes. I’m—Sir, I really don’t think I’m going to be able to take them all on just with myself and my sidekicks. Midoriya probably isn’t with them to begin with—I’m not questioning you, sir. I just don’t understand our objective in attacking them now. Why are we rushing? It seems counterpro—Yes, sir.” The line beeped loudly as it disconnected.

Well. All this had been a monumental waste of time.

It also boded ill for Midoriya. It sounded as if he’d become an even greater target than before, and considering that the commission had been labeling him a villain even before testing his DNA… Something bigger than being related to All for One must have come out. Something that had scared the commission. Something they would scrap their stealth- and intelligence-based plan for dealing with the League for. Something they wanted gone. Locked away with Midoriya.

Hawks couldn’t imagine what that could be. Maybe he was related to All Might? Or Endeavor? All Might wouldn’t be bad, he was never publicly in a relationship, but then he’d always been private about his personal life. But Endeavor… that’d be a scandal and a half.

But, if either of those were the case, why were they so sure he’d be with the League of Villains? It didn’t make sense. Unless… Unless Midoriya wasn’t the only one related to All for One.

At least they weren’t asking him to kill the kid. The mission was capture.

Which meant that Hawks had to come up with some way of letting an injured and probably exhausted teenager and a severely disabled old man escape without looking like he was letting them escape. Or looking like an incompetent idiot. Again. Because he wasn’t about to bring Midoriya in under circumstances this shady. Maybe before, when he thought it was just trumped-up kidnapping charges, but with this uncertainty…

Commission lackey or not, Hawks was still a hero. Sometimes that meant he put aside personal feelings for the good of society, and sometimes it meant that he ignored orders so a minor wouldn’t be indefinitely imprisoned at a commission black site.

Fun times.

He sighed and gathered in his feathers, angling down into a dive. Time to get to work.

.

Ochako kept seeing things out of the corners of her eye. Shadow in the shape of people, in the shape of children. Stains on the walls.

The hallways were scrupulously clean. Spotless. Empty. Brightly lit.

Todoroki had mentioned smelling smoke a few times and had started gagging for no reason once or twice. Iida kept twitching as if he had heard something. Aizawa appeared unaffected, but Ochako could see the way he gripped his capture weapon and the rigidness of his spine.

Izuku looked resigned.

“Did they really—” started Iida.

“Yes,” said Izuku. “Almost certainly.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Todoroki.

“You’re only getting fragments of Three’s memories, since she’s suppressing this,” said Izuku. “But…” He twitched, slightly. “It’s going to get worse the farther we go. The places she was in…” His voice was soft, sing-song, not quite entirely there.

“Izuku?”

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I’m focusing on something else outside.”

“Please tell me you aren’t fighting pro heroes again,” said Aizawa.

“No, I’m escaping from the League of Villains right now.”

“How?”

“Mm. Great question. I’ll tell you how it goes later, if it works.”

“That’s not what I—”

An ear-splitting, bone-chilling scream filled the air, making everyone flinch and clench. Something crackled overhead.

“Incident response team to hallway C. Code Blue.”

More screaming. This time, Ochako had a better idea of where it was coming from, and it seemed like everyone else, did, too.

They ran past classrooms that were alternately empty and full of shadow people, past soulless dormitory rooms stuffed with bunk beds, past cells and rooms Ochako didn’t even want to think about.

A pair of dark-skinned girls stood in the hallway, one holding a bloody hand to her throat, the other baring her teeth. The lights flickered. Dimmed.

The girls were gone by the time the lights came back on.

The hallway they were in was full of operating theaters, complete with lights over the door. Ochako felt sick.

But she was used to dealing with nausea. She took a deep breath and swallowed.

“What now?” she asked. The quaver in her voice was barely audible.

“Now…” Aizawa turned slowly in place. “We’re trying to find where they met Ryuji.”

“Two,” said Izuku, nodding.

“So, the most likely place for that…” He trailed off. “The most likely place for that is in the… residential areas.” He sounded disgusted with himself for referring to a prison with such bland terms.

“We passed something like that,” said Todoroki, quietly.

“Right,” said Aizawa. “Let’s go.”

.

The way back was much more… crowded. The memories were more tangible. Ochako quickly taught herself not to look in any of the rooms. Not that it helped much with what they saw in the halls themselves.

Izuku’s distraction only grew worse as they went further. He kept trying to follow, or sometimes fight, the memory ghosts.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Focusing on something else.”

“Just don’t die on us, problem child.”

“We’re doing okay,” said Izuku.

This was, of course, when the facility’s alarm went off.

“Intruder alert. Intruder alert. Intruder alert.”

.

Izuku couldn’t hear the sound of the fight between the League and Machia anymore. This meant that either the fighting had stopped, or they had moved out of earshot.

Despite the League having a car (Vlad-sensei’s car) Izuku doubted that the fight had gotten all that far away.

Next to him, Toshinori winced. Izuku looked at him with concern, but Toshinori waved it off.

Izuku took a shaky breath.

They just had to keep going.

.

Twice had, perhaps predictably, backed the car up into a ditch, where, despite the amount of pressure he put on the accelerator, it stayed. Stuck. Perhaps forever.

All members of the League of Villains that were not crazy enough to crawl onto the outside of a moving car to fight a homicidal giant climbed out. All members, meaning a single member. A single member, ironically, being Twice.

At least he hadn’t been going very fast when he ran into the ditch.

“Everyone okay? –Of course, they’re not! You were in a car crash, idiots!”

“Come help us fight!” ordered Shigaraki. “We were in the middle of something, you know, stupid level boss! Keep having to save scum I hate you aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”

Well, that wasn’t a good sign.

“Where’s Himiko?” he shouted.

“Over here, silly!” said the second Shigaraki, because, yeah. Twice had forgotten he hadn’t duplicated Shigaraki.

Man, he was dumb sometimes. It was great he had friends to help him with that!

He dove into the fight which, ever so slightly, ever so slowly, began to move away from the car.

.

Izuku’s head throbbed sharply, and he stumbled, Toshinori just managing to catch him before he faceplanted. Four and the other past users hissed at him from the back of his mind.

Someone’s coming. Hide.

They were in no condition for another fight.

Toshinori nodded sharply, and pulled Izuku aside, into some bushes. Izuku tried to breathe quietly but was painfully aware that both he and Toshinori were out of breath and raspy. Ragged. They’d been aiming for speed, not stealth, counting on the sounds of combat to cover them.

But if someone was out here—

Izuku smelled smoke. A branch snapped. He held his breath, despite the way his lungs longed for more oxygen. Had Dabi been in the car? Izuku hadn’t seen him. He hadn’t seen any blue fire. It wasn’t like Dabi to hold back.

A pair of black booted feet came into view.

“Well, well, what do we have here?”

.

They found Two standing in a hallway, surrounded by the bodies of soldiers. A small horde of shadow children clung to his legs.

When he laid eyes on Izuku, he sighed.

“Does the world ever give you a break?” he asked.

“Not that I’ve noticed,” said Izuku.

[dreamescapeswriting]

BTS Reaction || Aftercare [Request]

A/N: Mentions of sex so please do not read if you’re underage

Seokjin:

You were seeing stars after the orgasm that Jin had just given you your whole body was shaking trying to come down from the high you were experiencing Jin pulled you back to reality by sitting you up in the bed,

"Come on." He whispered helping you off the bed, he was always the best at aftercare for you he never wanted you to experience anything bad while you were together. Your legs trembled as he walked you through to the en-suite bathroom, stepping you into the bath which was the perfect temperature for your body, he got in behind you and wrapped his arms around your body taking a washcloth and began washing your body. You had your head resting back against his chest as he washed you off,

"You okay?" He asked looking at you as you closed your eyes and hummed in response to him, you were more than okay you'd just had one of the best orgasms of your life and now you were cuddling up to the love of your life.

"I'm fine Jinnie." You promised him as he continued to wash your body his hands stopping when he realised how you were almost falling asleep against him.

"Come on you, don't go falling asleep in the bath." He let out a deep chuckle and you woke up, yawning and looking up at him.

"Let me wash you now."  You turned around in the giant bathtub and took the washcloth from him, rinsing it and applying another set of shower gel to it so you could wash his body off and he chuckled watching as you attempted to wash him despite you almost falling asleep less than five seconds ago. He found it adorable that you would try and comfort him when it was you that needed the aftercare after the rough night you'd spent together.

Yoongi:

As soon as it was over it was like a switch was flicked inside of Yoongi, he was no longer the cold stand-offish boyfriend he was in the bedroom and he was cradling you in his arms.

"You did so well baby," He praised kissing the back of your neck as he rocked you back and forth in his arms to comfort you, you whimpered as your ass came into contact with the bed and he hissed.

"I know, I'm sorry." He went into the drawer beside the bed and got the bottle of lotion that was kept in there, for this reason, he applied a generous amount to his hand before he rubbed it into your cheeks.

"I know it stings baby, I'm sorry." He said as you hissed when he touched you, he'd gone a litter rougher this time since you'd been teasing him all day by flirting with his friends.

"I'll make a drink after this I promise." You shook your head once he finished rubbing the lotion into your skin, it was already starting to feel better since it was so cold and soothing.

"Just hold me," You whispered crawling up to the top of the bed waiting for him, he sat down next to you and you laid your head on his legs, he began playing with your hair and rubbing the small of your back as he whispered sweet things to you to help you calm down. He knew exactly how to look after your body after he'd practically ripped it apart,

"I love you." He assured you kissing the top of your head as your eyes fluttered shut,

"Love you too Yoongi," You whispered back staying curled up in his arms as he held you through the night.

Hoseok:

He pulled out of you as soon as the safeword left your mouth and he pulled you into a hug, promising not to let go until you told him to but you weren't going to. He'd been degrading you and you just needed him to hold you while you came down from the highs you'd been experiencing.

"Too much." You whimpered and he nodded kissing your cheek and grabbing the blankets from the bed. He wrapped them around your naked body and pulled you against him, rubbing your arms and promising you that you were none of the things that he had been calling you through the rough night together.

"You did great baby, so great." He promised as he kissed your exposed shoulder, you leant back against his arms and he snuggled back against the headboard behind him.

"Shall we watch your favourite movie?" You nodded and he got the remote from the bedside table, turning on the TV and finding your favourite movie. You stayed like that until the movie was over, cradled in his arms as he held you as close as he could get you, his hands rubbing your arms and whispering sweet nothings into your ear to comfort you.

"You're perfect, you know that right?" You hummed too tired to form words to say back to him, the number of times he'd edged you was getting to you and you could barely make it through the movie you were but before you could fall asleep he sat you up and handed you a bottle of water,

"Painkillers first princess." You sipped some of the water before taking the tablets he was holding out for you, once they were gone he laid down in the bed and pulled you down beside him, kissing your shoulder and whispering that he loved you as you fell asleep in his arms.

Namjoon:

The ropes that were tying you to the bed were cut and he removed the cuff bar from your legs, as soon as your body was released from them you almost broke down into tears, everything that you and Namjoon had been doing for the last two hours hitting you like a wave.

"It's okay, come here." He whispered his cold and rough demeanour was gone and replaced by the kind and caring boyfriend he was every other hour of the day.

"J-Joonie," You whimpered as he held you but he shushed you rocked you from side to side as you cried into his arms,

"My wrists," He reached for the lotion and began applying to where the rope had started to burn your skin and then he applied some to your ankles where the spreader bar had been.

"You did amazing sweetie, you were great." He reassured you sitting back on the bed and bringing you with him you were sitting in his lap with your head resting on his chest.

"I love you." You whispered to him as he continued to hold you close to him, you were listening to his heartbeat to help you calm down from everything, he smiled at you as you whispered to him.

"I love you too baby, get some sleep." He whispered back to you pulling the covers over your bodies and you hissed as you moved to quickly,

"Sorry Princess," He groaned finally getting you both into a comfy position, he laid down and you were drifting off to him whispering how much he loved you into your ear.

Jimin:

Jimin helped you step out of the bathtub and then walked you into the bedroom where he dressed you in your favourite pyjamas smiling as you got straight into the bed, waiting for him to crawl in next to you. He came into the room with a cup of hot chocolate and a blanket, wrapping the blanket around you and placing the cup of hot chocolate on the bedside the table,

"Take these first," He handed you a small bottle of water and some painkillers making sure you weren't going to wake up with a headache or pains from the night you'd had,

"Thank you Jiminie." You hummed after you swallowed the painkillers, he took the water away and went to fetch you a fresh bottle. Wanting you to be as relaxed as possible, he came back into the room and say behind you on the bed holding your hot chocolate for you while you were hunting on Netflix, for a classic movie you both loved so it wouldn't matter if you both fell asleep to it.

"You doing okay?" He questioned wanting to make sure you were as comfortable as possible but you nodded at him, promising him you were fine but he didn't seem convinced about it.

"I read that sometimes-"

"Jimin, I'm fine I promise." You giggled leaning up and kissing his cheek, he relaxed instantly hearing you promise everything was okay and he wrapped his arms around you. Drawing invisible patterns into the skin which was available to him, whispering quotes along to the movie in your ear.

Taehyung:

His shirt was practically drowning you as he walked you from the sofa and up to the main en-suite bathroom, you'd just had a rough night together on the sofa and now he was adamant on giving you some aftercare, although you were promising he was fine he still wanted to make you feel better. He'd been degrading you like he usually would but there was something that came over him that night and he was a lot rougher than he usually was with you.

"Tae I said I was okay," You giggled as he helped you step into the bubble bath he'd run for you, but it did feel good having all of the bubbles and bath salts relax you. He stripped you out of the shirt before sitting you down into the water and he sat beside the tub, washing your body for you as you laid your head back against the bath pillow that was there.

"I know you did, but I just want to look after you." He whispered running some water over your shoulders and looking at you, your neck was already starting to form the dark purple marks from where he'd been attacking your neck earlier.

"I'll order some food after this, we'll get your favourite." He promised you as he watched you, your eyes were shut as you let the hot water soothe your aching muscles. You hadn't even noticed you were sore until you got into the water and you thanked Taehyung for doing this for you.

Jungkook:

The next morning Jungkook woke up before you and practically sprinted down the stairs to get things for you, he'd gone a little rough on you the night before and he realised that he hadn't given you any kind of aftercare, he just left you there.

"Kookie?" You whined as he woke you up, you rolled over and he handed you some painkillers, a bottle of water and a hot water bottle.

"Stay here, apply that to your lower stomach." You watched as he left the room frantically, you placed the hot water bottle onto your stomach and let out a breath of relief as it eased the cramps you were getting from the previous night.

"I made this," The door opened to reveal Jungkook bringing in a tray full of food and a cup of tea sitting on it.

"Kookie what are you-"

"It's because I didn't last night, did you take the painkillers?" You quickly took them and he got into the bed next to you, hand-feeding you despite you telling him that you could do it yourself just fine but he insisted upon it.

"Just let me look after you," You nodded and he continued to feed you the pancakes he'd been making, then he searched for some soothing music on Spotify,

"I'll run you a bath after this and then we'll binge that show you've been wanting to watch." You nodded and he smiled at you, kissing your lips softly and getting up from the bed to go and run you a bubble bath, adding all the salts and bubbles he could find.

tagline: 

@yoongisdumplingcheeks @writingdreamsnottragedies @snowy-meowl @lynnthevirgo​ @jooniesdarlingdimples​ @kpopfanfictionhoes​ @lyoongx​  @mitzwinchester​ @callingmyangel​ @btsiguess-kpop​ @fan-ati--c​ @rjsmochii​ 

[yuzukult]

effortlessly pt. 4 || jungkook & reader

title: effortlessly  pairing: jungkook x reader genre: fluff, romance, school!au, smut (not in this chapter) words:  3.8k on the shorter side note: again, i may need to do some proofreading!!! enjoy :)

series: part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six || part seven || part eight || part nine || part ten || epilogue 

The sun shining through the blinds warms your skin as you groan while rubbing your eyes drowsily at the contact. Sliding off Jungkook’s body and cloaking your face into the pillow, you sigh heavenly. Although still exhausted, after confessing your feelings to the sleeping Jungkook the night before, you felt relieved. 

Jungkook? He thinks he hasn’t slept a wink. There may have been a moment or two where he dazed off to the point that he thought he fell asleep but in actuality, he could barely get himself to close his eyes long enough. 

Well, you did tell him you loved him last night. 

How else was he supposed to react? He spent the entire 8 hours with a billion thoughts running through his mind incessantly. Sure, he constantly showered you with affection, occasionally slipping in some pick up lines, and flirting ceaselessly but he never believed that you would ever reciprocate those same feelings... or even come close to the point of potentially realizing how you felt. A hopeful dream was what it was and the only way to prevent heartbreak was to prioritize his aspirations to become a swimmer. 

Regardless of that... he’d been in love with you for over a decade, so what does this mean now?

You confessed to his sleeping body, or well— “sleeping.” Does he tell you that he heard everything you said? Would that be too much? It felt like he was eavesdropping on a conversation he shouldn’t have listened in on, even if you were saying it directly to him. But you said those things unfiltered, assuming that he wouldn’t hear anything.

Chewing his bottom lip with his brows wrinkled, he pondered in silence as your body beside him is shifting constantly under the covers, switching in different positions. Edges of his mouth twitching into a soft smile at the sight of you, he runs his fingers through his messy locks, finally coming to a decision.

Jungkook is going to take this opportunity to tell you that he loves you. The proper way, of course, since technically he isn’t supposed to know about your confession. He’s going to make up for what happened with what should have happened.

“You’re awake?” You grumble, voice husky. He chuckles at the sound, pinching your cheek gently. “Yeah, been awake for a while. Getting up any time soon?”

Shaking your head, you drop your face back into the pillow, muffling your words. “I just wanna sleep all day. Did you have any plans for today?” 

He hums a moment in thought, glancing over at you. “I didn’t initially, but I think we should do something today. Did you have anything in mind that you want to do lately?”

Turning your head, you glare at your best friend. “You’re the one who wants to go somewhere.”

“True but I wanted to give you the option to pick.”

Rolling your eyes, you purse your lips in response. “Let’s get pizza and go to the beach.”

“Beach?”

“Yeah, you said you wanted to give me an option to pick. I heard it’s going to be nice and hot outside, and if you’re not letting me stay indoors in the amazing AC, you’re taking me to the beach to cool down.”

“Sassy,” He says, pushing a strand of your hair away from your face and behind your ear. “But okay. We can do that. I’m down for it.”

“Just us two?”

“Just us two.” You liked the sound of that.

The sun barely pecks your skin in the morning but it’s noon now, and the sun hates you. Toes digging into the sand as Jungkook leads to find a spot to put the umbrella, you’re weeping from the heat under your feet and the sun scorching your skin.

“Jungkook, I’m fucking melting.”

“Yes miss, we are all melting in this heat. We are all bitches to the sun right now.”

You’re grumbling, dragging your legs with you as you fix the straps on the duffle bag that sits as a crossbody on your frame. “Jeon, hurry up and pick a spot before I become one with the sand!”

“Quit being such a drama queen.” He rolls his eyes playfully, finally deciding on a spot that wasn’t too far from the water but wasn’t close enough to be swept in by the tide. “This seems like a good spot.”

“It only took months.” He flicks your forehead. “I said quit it, drama queen.”

After sticking the umbrella into the sand and setting up the rest of the necessities for the day, you throw your body onto the mat, groaning loudly in relief that the tasks had been completed. “I enjoy this, other than the sun burning my skin before I even got the chance to put on sunscreen.”

“You’re still in your denim shorts and T-shirt,” Jungkook comments, now shirtless with just his swim trunks on. “That’s why you’re sweating like that. Hurry and get ready, I’ll put sunblock on you.” Abiding by his instruction, you strip yourself from the shirt that clings to your body in sweat and the thick shorts that absorbed most of the sun’s heat. Left in your bikini, you turn yourself around to lay on the mat.

His breath hitches again— it seems to be a common reaction from him lately to anything that has to do with you. He wishes he could press butterfly kisses against your soft and supple skin but he shakes away the urges before squirting some of the sunscreen in his hands and rub your back.

“Hold on.” You say and he pauses, hands stopping in midair. Your arm reaches around to your back, pulling the strands of your black bikini to unravel, exposing more of your back and he clears his throat when he loses control of his breathing patterns. “What are you doing? We’re in public.”

“Tan lines,” you respond casually, resting your cheek on a folded towel. “Go on.”

Jungkook felt like he was having an inner argument with himself. Everything you did was almost in a teasing manner, and especially with the newfound knowledge that you’re in love with him— he can’t help but find you even more attractive than before. Maybe he was delusional, but he was starting to feel like you were doing this on purpose.

“Thanks.” Retying your top, you turn yourself around to lay on your back, lathering the lotion onto the front portions of your body. “You want me to do yours?”

“No.” He quickly replies, face flushed pink. The thought of your hands touching his skin... he didn’t think he’d be able to handle it. Realizing how suspicious he sounded, he corrects himself. “I mean, no... I’m okay.”

Wrapping your fingers around his wrist, you tighten your grasp before pulling him onto the mat and forcing him to lay on his stomach, squirting a decent amount of the product onto your hands. He’s groaning at the sudden impact, face pressed against the toughness of the mat, rubbing his face with his hand. “What was that for?”

“You’re just being so weird today.” Applying the sunscreen onto his back, you move in motions as his body tenses under your touch. “Can you just relax? You’re starting to be even more weird. Weirder than usual.”

“Weirder than usual?” He reiterates, words a bit muffled from his cheek being crushed. “I’m not being weird.”

“Yes, you are.” You retort sternly, slapping his lower back to insinuate your completion of the task. “All morning. You said you slept, but I can tell you didn’t because well... look at your eyebags! Jeon, what’s wrong with you?”

“Don’t worry about it! Let’s enjoy the day.” He says, finishing up the rest of his body before giving you a wave and jumping into the water.

Jungkook is and always will be insufferable.

Your favorite part of any beach trip is when the sun begins to set, the breeze from the ocean kicking in, and the fragrance of the salty sea is inhaled into your lungs, bringing you a sense of peace and tranquility. The best view along with this is Jungkook, who sits in the sand, feet and lower half of his body submerged in the water, enjoying the weather. The top of the evening was that both your stomachs are full with pizza for dinner.

Standing up from the little area that the two of you had made for yourselves, you invite yourself into a spot beside your best friend, resting your head on his shoulder. “This is nice. The weather, the water, just us. We haven’t had this in a while.”

Turning his head to glance at you, a soft smile appears on his lips. “We’re always together.”

“Not alone, not like this.” You sigh, fingers drawing shapes along the sand. “We’re usually with someone. Your team, Yura... anyone, really. I miss when it’s just the two of us. It feels like you’re afraid to actually be alone with me or something.”

“We have sleepovers though, what about that?”

“Do we ever really talk during movies? Then we sleep right after.”

Lately, it had occurred to you that despite all this “time” that you had been spending with Jungkook wasn’t really any time. Lunch had been inhabited by engaging with girls who crushed on Jungkook, and the remaining times were dedicated to socializing with Yura and his teammates. Movie nights were great, but silence would burden the room, and afterwards, he’d be too tired from a swim meet that he would fall asleep instantaneously. There was no more ‘you and Jungkook’ time. It felt like only just you.

“I guess... I really never thought of it like that.” He admits, fingers threading through his dampen locks. He senses the tenderness in your voice at the topic, a tightening feeling in his chest knowing that he’s the one making you feel this way. “I never paid attention to any of that. Did you feel that way for a while?”

“It’s alright though, just something I have to get used to.” Tearing your head off his shoulder, you lay your body completely onto the sand. “Sometimes I forget that we’re not together. It’s hard because there’s...” Sucking in a deep breath of courage, you continue. “... there’s a fine line between friendship and relationship. That’s why I didn’t want to... you know, have sex again. It felt as though you only wanted to do this because of sex.”

“What?” He interjects immediately, head snapping in your direction. “That’s crazy. I wanted to do it again because I was afraid I ruined it for you.”

“I thought I told you it was good enough!”

“But ‘good enough’ isn’t good enough for me. I love you, and I want to make you feel good, I want to make you feel what you’re worth, and that it wasn’t just some deployment to get rid of our virginities. I meant what I said, I really wanted to give mine to you.”

“Jungkook, you know I love you too. But don’t you want to do it with someone else?”

“No, I don’t. I don’t think you know what it means when I say that I love you.”

Furrowing your brows questioningly, you prop your head onto your arm. “What are you talking about.”

Sighing frustratedly at himself, he positions his body down completely beside yours, head resting on top of his forearm. “I’m in love with you. I thought that you’d never feel the same way about me. I know you thought I was sleeping last night, but I heard what you said.”

Your body is stunned rigid. Jungkook doesn’t stop. “You were my best friend since grade school, and I enjoyed every minute I got to spend with you. Truthfully, I think the time I started to fall for you was when we hit early high school and I realized that guys were chasing you. I never noticed it before, but seeing it then sparked a fire in me. I hated every one of them, even if they were a friend. Then again, who was I to tell these people that they couldn’t have you? I didn’t even have the guts to tell you how much I love you.”

Mouth agape, you inhale deeply. “I... you heard me last night?”

“Of course. I just... didn’t know how to react because what if I make you uncomfortable?”

“Uncomfortable? You’ve vomited, farted, and took a shit in the bathroom as I was showering, and now you’re worried if I’m uncomfortable?” Sitting up with sand sticking to your skin, you ignore the discomfort and lock your gaze with his. “Jungkook, I really meant what I said last night. I... didn’t think you’d ever like me back because you seemed like you weren’t interested in any relationship, honestly.”

“And I meant what I said when I told you that you’re the only girl in my life.”

Lips pursed in the reticence, you dig your toes into the ground, hesitant about speaking. “What does this make us now?” 

Hair pushed back from swimming earlier and cheeks flushed pink from either being sunburned or from finally confessing his feelings for you, he watches your actions. “Would you like to be my girlfriend?”

Everything is marginally outlandish on Monday morning after spending almost every waking moment with Jungkook over the weekend since the confession. There had been heated kisses, multiple cuddling sessions, and deep conversations that lasted through the hours of the night until one of you fell into a deep slumber.

But Monday morning? This means that the time together will include other people. Maybe less PDA, sure, but the thought of people finally knowing that the two of you were an item was... exhilarating, and if you were being forthright, you wanted to show off to the entire school population who Jungkook belonged to.

He’s standing outside of your house, waiting patiently with his car grunting after the start, leaning against the hood with a bright grin spread across his face. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“You look beautiful today.” You think he looks cute smiling cheekily like this. He actually looks like an idiot in other people’s eyes because of how dorky he is.

“I look like this everyday.”

“I know. That just means you’re beautiful everyday.”

Clicking your tongue at the cheesy comment, you make your way down the steps of your front porch as he opens the passenger door for you. “Well, this is new. You’ve never done this before?”

“I’ve also never had a real serious girlfriend before, and here we are.”

“If I knew what I was signing up for, I don’t think I would’ve agreed to this.” He’s in the driver’s seat at this moment, eyes still darting hearts in your direction as he gives your nose a gentle peck. “I’m just happy you’re mine now.”

“So... I take it as you told him you love him?” Yura’s doing the thing where she’s stuffing food in her mouth as she talks, but this time it’s some type of Japanese bread she raves about. “Yura... you’re getting bread all over my desk.”

She rolls her eyes in response, showing you her hand before swiping the crumbs off the surface. “Done-zo. So what now? You guys are dating? Are you going to be one of those girls who will wear their boyfriend’s varsity jacket all around the school? Possibly flaunting that you were able to claim the untouchable Jeon Jungkook?”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“No, you’re not being dramatic enough. What? How long has he been head over heels for you and you had no clue? Not even an ounce?”

“A decade?”

“A fucking decade, my dude. Don’t you just want to show off your new relationship because you’ve waited so long for this moment?”

Pulling off a piece of Yura’s bread, you shove some in her mouth. “Stop talking please, this is so embarrassing.”

“What’s so embarrassing about it?” She accidentally spits a bit of the bread in your face as you scrunch your nose in disgust, wiping off your cheek. “Yura!”

“Sorry. Anyway, what’s so embarrassing about it? You’re acting like he’s some guy who has done bad things and you were desperate enough to settle for a loser. This is your best friend, a potential professional swimmer, who is now your boyfriend. What’s up?”

“I’m kind of scared that all these girls are going to hate me now.” Yura scoffs at your response, shoving the remaining portion of bread in your direction. “You need some sweetness in your morning if you’re going to have such negative thoughts this early in the day.”

“And what about you? Didn’t you also say you had some crush on a guy?”

She waves her hand in dismissal, grabbing another piece of the carb. “He’s my brother’s best friend, not even an arms reach. Let’s switch the topic back to you, though.”

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore!” You grunted. “Well, too bad because Mr. Stole-Your-Heart is walking here now.”

Shooting your head around, you’re met with a beaming Jungkook with his swimming duffle slung over his shoulder as Hoseok trails behind. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“We keep greeting like this.”

“So we have.”

“Am I missing something here?” Hoseok impedes into the conversation, perplexity written all over his face. “Why are you guys talking like you haven’t been friends for years now?”

“Well,” Yura begins, eying the male. “They haven’t been dating for years so it’s still fresh. Hence the awkwardness.”

“Wait— you’re dating each other?” Appalled, he stumbles onto a desk behind him, hand over his chest. “You actually told her you loved her? This is crazy. Does this mean that you’re also the girl he keeps talking about that he lost his virginity to?”

Blood rushes to your cheeks, glowing coral. “Potentially.”

Adjusting the straps of his backpack on his shoulders, he straightens himself before twirling his body around to exit the classroom. “Sorry bro, I gotta let the team know. I can’t believe you actually went through with it!”

“Hoseok—” Jungkook rubs his face tiredly when his friend leave before giving you an apologetic look. “I’m going to chase after him. I’ll see you after class?”

“I’ll see you after class,” You confirm, and surprisingly enough, he leans in to give you a quick goodbye kiss before waving at Yura.

Yura’s eyes bulged to the point it looked like it would fall out of its sockets. “He— he actually did that? How much did I actually miss? Did you guys do it again?”

“How many questions are you going to ask?”

“All of them. Any single one that pops into my head. How could I not ask you any of these questions? What’s the point of being your friend if I can’t!” Yura jokes and you retaliate by throwing a pen at her.

“Look at who has arrived! The woman who has tamed our special Kook’s heart!” Namjoon exclaims brightly at the sight of you entering the pool’s arena, backpack over your shoulder as you make your way to your designated spot in the bleachers. “Jesus, stop embarrassing her.” Jungkook counters, pushing the guys away from your seat.

“Aw, come on. We never got to interrogate her as your girlfriend!”

“Isn’t interrogating her as my friend enough?”

“No,” Jin chimes in. “We didn’t get to ask her the girlfriend questions yet.”

Jungkook scowls at his teammates who bluster him at five against one. “What are you going to ask? I’ll answer for her.” 

“Is she the one you lost your virginity to?”

“When did this happen?”

“Is Jungkook even good in bed? He just looks good but what about his delivery—“

“Whoa, whoa whoa!” Jungkook interrupts, dropping his bag onto the ground. “My delivery? You’re questioning my performance?”

“Performance?” Standing beside you at the bleachers, the entire swim team turns their heads in unison at the voice, faces gleaming at the owner of the voice.

“Taehyung!”

“What’s wrong with Jungkook’s performance?” He raises a brow quizzically, adjusting his own bag that hands across his chest. “He’s a great swimmer.”

Hoseok has his arm around the other male, leading him toward the locker room. “Our little Kook has a girlfriend now, and we’re trying to interrogate his girlfriend about his performance.”

“Jungkook has a girlfriend?” When Jimin responds with your name, Taehyung’s gaze meets your figure as you’re leaning comfortably in the spaces between the bleachers, legs pressed against your chest with AirPods occupying your ears and a book in your hand. 

He never said, but Taehyung always had a slight crush on you. The rest of the swim team, including you, had all been around the same age, but he’d be ahead of the crowd in regards to education, therefore graduated earlier than the rest. Earning a swimming scholarship to study abroad restricted himself from ever letting you know his true feelings, but coming back around meant he could take the opportunity to at least let you know how he felt.

But he was too late. Or so you’d think.

“I got this for you, from the States, that is.” 

“A mug?” Lifting up the Starbucks cup in your hand that he wrapped in a bow so carefully, you’re afraid that you’d accidentally unravel it. Grinning from cheek to cheek, your eyes meet with his. “New York?”

“I visited New York for a little bit before coming back here. Thought of you when I saw that. Figured you would like it.”

Gingerly placing the gift back into its bag, you pull out another item that Taehyun has packed for you. “What— what’s this?” He has a mischievous smile washing over his face, tugging at the bow tie around the plush in your hands.

“A sloth.”

“A sloth?”

Taehyung nods in return, hands slipping into the front pockets of his jeans. “You remind me of a sloth. Always so tired, moves slow sometimes—”

“Tae, are you insulting me?” Laughing at your reaction, he immediately shakes his head in discrepancy. “No, it’s a good thing really. You’re cute, and sloths are cute. Grounded, even though they’re in the trees, relaxing to be around, and you can’t help but to like them.”

Nodding in response, you hold the stuffed animal in your arms, content with his answer. “I’ll take that. I really like this, Taehyung. You didn’t have to bring this back for me.”

“Of course I had to bring you something back.” He bends forward, playfully pinching your nose. “You were always coming to our games to support us. Anyways, there’s a letter in the envelope when you get the chance to look more thoroughly.”

“Yep. Well, if you’d excuse me, they’re going to nag at me for leaving the locker room so suddenly instead of getting dressed to practice with them. I’ll catch you later?” You bow your head in agreement as you watch him run in the route of the locker room before searching through the bag before your fingers meet with a thick piece of paper.

Your name is written on the front of the pink envelope. Something makes your stomach churn at the appearance of the item. Inhaling deeply, you tear off the flap, a little too aggressively that the note falls out and onto the floor.

“What’s this?” Jungkook asks, picking up the mysterious paper, handing it to you. “Who gave you that?”

“Uh... Taehyung.”