#its been a pretty rough few weeks so its great having friends like you around

[sailortongue]

someone help me name this fic

pairing: choso kamo x reader

summary: a simple movie night with your best friend turns into something more when his older brother joins your weekly ritual

wc: 3.3k

warnings: smut, nsfw, fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, yuji is asleep in the same room briefly

an: why is smut so hard to write. feel like i put in so much effort just for it to not even be good

an 2: also the "title" is not a joke. this fic has been sitting in the docs for a few days and i'm still stumped. so if anyone has suggestions the floor is all yours

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Movie night was definitely your favorite night of the week. It always involved plenty of snacks, jokes, laughter, and was just generally a great time with your best friend. There was never a boring moment as long as Yuji was around. So no matter what, you could always expect to have fun.

What you didn't expect, though, was Yuji’s older brother, Choso, joining your weekly ritual. You liked him well enough, for what little you knew about him. For as long as you've been friends with Yuji you don't think Choso has ever said more than three words to you at one time. Not that that stopped you from harboring a small crush on the older male. You rolled your eyes at yourself. Crushing on your best friend’s brother. How cliche could you get?

But fuck Choso was pretty. Like, unfairly pretty. Especially now, when he was fresh out of the shower, his hair down from its usual space buns. You also noticed that he had removed the copious amount of earrings he usually had in his ears, giving him a softer look than you were accustomed too. You watched him run his hands through his hair, pushing his bangs out of his face. You bet his hands would feel so good on your-

“Y/N!”

You snapped back to reality to see Yuji looking at you expectantly. “What?” you asked dumbly, heat spreading across your cheeks, embarrassed that you had accidentally ignored your friend in favor of thirsting over his brother. Get a grip you thought to yourself.

But Yuji only chuckled. “Rough week?” he asked.

You groaned as you dramatically flopped backward to lay on the couch, which was answer enough for Yuji. Always the optimist, he said, “Maybe next week will be better. You got this.”

“No, I don’t. This degree is eating me alive. I have not one, not two, but three exams next week!” you exclaimed, holding up three fingers for emphasis.

“You’ll be fine. You did well on your last exams and you’ll do well on these too. So like I was saying, I wanted to know if you had a particular movie in mind.”

You thought about it for a moment. “No, not really. How about we let Choso pick since it’s his first time watching with us?”

Both you and Yuji looked over at Choso, whose eyes widened at finding himself the center of attention. He hummed, trying to think if there was anything that piqued his interest before settling on a movie he’d been meaning to watch but never got around to.

“Perfect! Hey, Yn, can you pop some popcorn while I set it up?” asked Yuji.

You hummed your agreement and stood from your place on the couch, padding your way over to the kitchen. You dug in the pantry for the popcorn, finally finding the box shoved way in the back. You grabbed two of the pouches and placed one in the microwave. While that was popping, you decided to go ahead and get a large bowl for the snack.

Naturally, it was on the top shelf, which left you on your tiptoes and stretching your arm as high as you could all in vain. As if summoned by your plight, Choso walked into the kitchen to see your struggle.

“Hey, Choso, could you-”

Before you could even finish asking, he placed himself right behind you, his body flush to yours as he placed a hand on your hip for stability and reached up with the other arm to grab the bowl. He handed it to you with a simple “here” before walking back into the living room.

You couldn't believe that just happened. Your heart was going a mile a minute and you briefly considered splashing cold water on your face to cool it down. Luckily for you, Choso remained in the living room with Yuji, allowing you to have a small meltdown in peace. 

When you returned to the living room with popcorn in hand, you found that Yuji had made himself comfortable in the recliner, which left you with no choice but to share the couch with Choso. There was ample room on the couch for the two of you, but just being in the same room after his stunt in the kitchen felt too close, much less on the same couch.

You did your best to avoid looking at Choso, knowing your face would erupt with heat the moment you made eye contact. You placed the popcorn on the coffee table and took your seat on the opposite end of the sofa as Choso.

“Everybody ready?” asked Yuji excitedly, eager to watch a movie with two of his favorite people. When both you and his brother gave the affirmative, he started the movie. But for all of his excitement to watch it, you guess the exhaustion that comes with the end of a school week caught up to him, and he was asleep before he even made it halfway into the movie.

This left you to watch the rest of the movie alone with his brother, the man who had flustered you so terribly a mere hour ago and the one you thought about late at night. You silently cursed Yuji’s name for leaving you in this situation, even more so when the characters on screen ended up in a bedroom. You could feel Choso’s gaze on you, and when you glanced over at him, you were right, he was looking right at you.

You furrowed your brows into a questioning gaze, silently asking him what. He shook his head and returned his attention to the screen. You followed suit, but the graphic imagery was getting to you. You shifted in your seat, feeling the stirrings of arousal that first began with Choso pressing himself against your backside. You couldn't but imagine that the couple on screen was you and Choso: how it would feel to kiss him, be held by him, be fucked by him.

Why is this scene so long? You thought to yourself, rubbing your thighs together as discreetly as you could. But not as discreetly as you should have, apparently.

“Are you cold?” asked Choso. Now, Choso knew damn well you weren’t cold, but he wanted to see how far he could push you, how desperate he could make you. 

“No, no, I’m fine,” you insisted.

He frowned at your response and scooted over next to you anyway, extending his blanket to cover you. You weren't so naive to think that this is a normal and friendly interaction. Especially not when Choso’s large hand slid over your thigh and rested just below the hem of your shorts. You stiffened in your seat, and a warmth began to spread through your lower belly. “Choso,” you started, but the words caught in your throat as soon as he glanced down at you.

“You’re so pretty, you know that?” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair from your face. His hand continued from behind your ear and migrated to cup your face, pulling you closer to him. You glanced at his lips, heart practically pounding out of your chest. Before your lips could connect, he paused. “Is this okay with you?” he whispered breathily. He’d never forgive himself if he was making you uncomfortable with his advances.

Rather than answer, you mirrored his actions, cupping his face and pulling him closer, finally pressing your lips against his soft ones. He inhaled roughly, but melted against you as he returned the kiss. He licked the seam of your lips, urging you to let him in. 

But it wasn’t enough. Not for Choso. His hands moved to grip your hips and pull you into his lap. Now straddling him, you could feel how hard he was beneath you. You gasped into his mouth, and as soon as you did you regretted it. Choso pulled away from you, his dark eyes boring into yours. “You have to be quiet, pretty girl. You wouldn't want Yuji to wake up and see us, would you?”

You shook your head, eyes wide and pleading for him to keep going. He mockingly pouted at you, but it morphed into a patronizing grin, a wicked idea forming in his mind. He leaned in and licked a stripe from the base of your neck all the way to just below your ear. You shivered in his grasp, and he chuckled, the deep sound reverberating through his chest. He blew on the wet stripe, pleased at the way your body reacted so deliciously to the stimulation, your hands balling the fabric of his shirt into fists. But you stayed quiet. He hummed. “Good girl. Let’s go somewhere you can be a little louder. What d’ya say? I want to hear all those pretty sounds.”

You nodded fervently, not trusting your voice at the moment for fear that you’d disturb Yuji. Choso tutted at you, and nipped at your earlobe. The sudden sharp pain caused you to wince, but it was quickly forgotten as Choso placed feather-light kisses along your jawline before returning where he started, his soft voice tickling the shell of your ear. “Come on, baby, use your words. I need to hear you say it. Need to hear you say you want me to fuck you.”

You were about to assert that yes, you wanted this, wanted him, but you hesitated, wondering what Yuji would think if he ever found out.

He could see the indecision in your eyes, that you were unsure if you truly wanted to continue this or not. He pulled away from you, terrified that he had overstepped and you were just too scared to stop him. “If you don’t want this-”

“No!” you cut him off. “I do. I really want this. I’m just worried about what Yuji will think when or if he finds out and mmH-” Choso smashed his lips against yours, effectively silencing every racing thought as all you could focus on was the way his tongue intertwined with yours and how good his hands felt as they smoothed up and down your waist.

He reluctantly pulled away before he completely lost himself to bliss. “God, you're just too perfect.” His eyes scanned up and down your heaving body, which was tense with anticipation. All it took was the soft “please” falling from your kiss-swollen lips to have Choso groaning, all of his restraint crumbling within him. Your hips gyrating over his was just the nail in his coffin. He slid his hands from where they rested on your hips down your thighs, smoothly lifting you up with him as he stood from the couch. From over his shoulder you could see your best friend still sleeping peacefully in the recliner, none the wiser that the relationship between his best friend and older brother was about to be forever changed.

A pang of guilt went through you, but was smothered by the overwhelming lust and attraction you had been harboring for Choso since the first moment you saw him. What Yuji didn’t know wouldn't kill him, right?

You lost sight of Yuji as Choso entered his room, using his foot to softly close the door behind him. He approached the bed and placed you atop it gently, reverently even. Seeing his face hovering above yours, having him between your legs, it felt unreal. You never even entertained the thought that your fantasies would become a reality, but now they were and it was so much better than you could have ever dreamed.

In the privacy of his room and without worrying that his brother would wake any second, Choso became bolder. He was seemingly unable to decide where to place his hands now that he finally had you under him. You wrapped your hands around his wrists and guided his hands to your chest, prompting him to cup your breasts. He got the message loud and clear, giving them each a soft squeeze. He trailed his hands down to the hem of your shirt and slid his hands under the material, pulling it above your head and tossing it to the floor of his bedroom. He returned his hands to your covered breasts, kneading them through your bra before he hooked his fingers under the fabric and pulled it down.

He let out a shaky breath, entranced by the vision you made beneath him, the very picture of beauty and femininity. You watched him as he drank in the sight, resisting the urge to pull him where you wanted him. Unable to resist any longer himself, Choso lowered his face to your chest, taking a nipple into his mouth and tweaking the other between two fingers. You gasped as he suckled at the tender flesh, and your hand flew to the back of head, winding your fingers in his dark hair. He released your nipple with a pop, and tilted his head up to see you already looking at him. “Don’t stop,” you whined, already missing the warmth of his mouth on your body.

“Don’t worry, I'm not stopping til we both feel good.” As he said that, he switched sides and continued his ministrations, dragging his free hand down to the hem of your shorts. “Let’s get these off, yeah?” You lifted your hips to aid in his efforts, and they soon joined your shirt on the floor.

Choso placed his hands on the outside of your thighs, using the thumb of one hand to toy with your clit through your panties. You moaned at his touch, his name slipping from your lips. The sweet sound of your voice was music to Choso’s ears, and he was determined to hear as much of it as possible. He leaned down to kiss you, swallowing every gasp and moan, his lithe fingers bringing you to the edge faster than you ever thought possible. All too soon, he removed his hand, but you quickly realized he was true to his word and far from done as he slid his hand beneath your panties.

He chuckled against your lips, “You're so wet and I've barely done anything.”

You turned your face to the side, using one hand to cover the blush spreading across your features. As endearing as your bashfulness was, Choso wanted you to be as comfortable with him as possible. He took your wrist in his hand and pulled it from your face, instead placing it atop the painfully throbbing bulge in his pants. “You don’t need to be shy with me. I want you just as bad, if not more. Wanted you since the moment Yuji first brought you home.”

“Really?” you asked, wondering if both of you had been ignoring your feelings for each other all this time.

He nodded. “Really. Still remember the first time I saw you. You were wearing that cute little skirt with the laces in the back, and all I could think about was what it would be like to fuck you in it. You’ll have to wear it for me next time, hm?”

Next time.

“Only if you put in your piercings.”

He laughed at that. “Whatever you want, princess.”

You were both there gazing at each other like fools, the distance slowly but surely closing between you. The kiss was searing, and you were abruptly reminded of the need you felt as Choso made quick work of your bra and panties, leaving you bare beneath him, despite the fact that he was fully clothed. He attached his lips to your neck, sucking dark marks that Yuji would surely see tomorrow morning, and dragged two of his fingers through your folds, gathering slick with his fingers before pushing in. You moaned at the intrusion, your walls clamping down tightly on his fingers. You could feel Choso grin against your throat as he curled his fingers into you, pulling them in and out slowly. Your gasps and moans increased in both tempo and volume until he removed his fingers altogether.

Your protests died in your throat as you saw Choso prop himself on his knees as he removed his shirt, revealing the toned body you had no idea he was hiding beneath his usually baggy tees. He removed his sweats and boxers next, his stiff cock slapping against his stomach. He resumed his position between your legs and stroked himself a few times before lining himself up with your entrance.

He pushed in slowly and you would have screamed from the pleasure of him stretching you out if it wasn't for the hand that swiftly covered your mouth. “I know, baby, I know, but you can’t be too loud.”

He continued to push into you, and every time you thought you had taken all of him there was more. Just when you were sure you couldn't possibly take any more, you felt his balls press firmly against your ass. You were so full, more than you ever had been in your life.

Choso sighed as he filled you completely, the velvety softness of your walls sucking him in greedily. “Oh God you feel too good,” he whispered, the words strangled as he struggled to keep himself still, giving you time to adjust to his size. He watched the way your chest heaved up and down with every labored breath, the way your eyes were glazing over in ecstasy, and the way your sweet cunt fluttered around his cock.

He couldn't take it anymore when you thrust your own hips upwards, the involuntary movement all it took to snap Choso’s composure. He pulled out almost completely, before sinking back in a single thrust. The way your cunt swallowed him so eagerly had him on cloud nine. How had he gone for so long without knowing the bliss that was being inside you.

His cock continued to drill in and out of you, his grunts of pleasure mixing with your moans. The delicious sounds you made spurred him on, and he quickened his movements. He no longer cared if Yuji heard. Let him. Let him know how good Choso made you feel. You were his best friend, but as of now you were also Choso’s girl.

You felt yourself going stupid with the pleasure of having him inside you, his name the only word you were capable of saying. He knew you were close, and he wanted more than anything to feel you clench around him as he brought you to the height of pleasure. He brought his hand down to rub circles against your clit, doing his damndest to make this the best you’ve ever had. “C’mon, baby, cum for me. You can do it. Cum around my cock, show me how good I make you feel.”

Those words were all it took to have you falling over the edge, pussy clenching tightly around Choso, whose own orgasm was triggered by yours. He moaned loudly, feeling too good to worry about volume. He continued to thrust into you as you each rode out your highs, his cum leaking out around him with every push into your used hole.

As soon as the waves of pleasure died out, pulled out and collapsed on top of you. Your pants mixed together as he lay with his head on your chest. You brought your hand up to card your fingers through his hair, and he hummed at your soft touch.

You continued to do so until he propped himself up on his elbows, his face mere inches from yours. “Would you go on a date with me?” he asked nervously.

A broad smile spread across your face, ecstatic that he wanted more from you than just sex. “I’d love to.”

A smile of his own mirrored yours as he surged forward to capture your lips with his own, the happiness exuding from him almost palpable. When he broke the kiss, he rolled off of you and onto his side, pulling you into his chest as he did so. With Choso’s arms wrapped securely around you, you both drifted off in the comfort of each other’s presence, unaware that it was the exact position a younger brother incapable of knocking would find you in in the morning.

[multifandomslxt]

Hey Krystal! 💎 It's me again 😌

Hope you've been well. 🥰

WayV members as type of rich bfs (sugar daddies) 👀..... Anything and everything within this prompt is most welcome 🤭. Have a great day bye ❤

Hey sweetheart! how are you?

You scared me again with the name ngl lmaoo

but it's all good

ENJOY<333

Way V Members as Sugar Daddies

MDNI

MINORS GO AWAY

Kun

He's a bit hard to get through to at first IMO

When he says sugar daddy he means money in exchange for accompanying him to events

he's so strict with himself that he really doesn't allow it to get past that.

That's all it is for a few months yk?

until you express that it seems a bit weird because you were definitely expecting more...

And Kun like the damn provider he is

gives you just that...more

but definitely explains to you that he's a possessive little shit.

good pu$$y turns a perfectly sane man in to a mad man pt.1

he's mad asf for youuuu

now that s3x is involved this man SPOILSSSSSSS you

way more than he was doing prior

which seems a bit impossible because babyyy you were getting bagsssss

he's so strict too like he makes it clear that you belong to him

period.

istg at some point he graduates from sugar daddy to husband

you want a spontaneous trip to some crazy rich island? ok, no problem

you want a bag that costs way too much money? he'll get you that in the next 2 hours

also...don't let that cute smile fool you, the man is a menace.

"Can't believe I deprived myself of this pretty c*nt" he thrusts inside you so slow...dangerously slow

"That's right baby Daddy's right here to give you everything you need"

Ten

Maam.

he gets right to it. lmaooo

Tells you that he needs you to accompany him to events and asks you if you're ok with other "stuff"

duhhh

first off the chemistry between y'all is AMAZINGGG

We all know this man loves fashion so having the latest designer pieces is a given

what starts off as a lil service after events

blooms into something more

very protective of you

baby he doesn't play about you or the custom diamonds he put around your neck. TRUST!

compared to before the relationship bloomed the s3x between you two was rather respectful?...yh that's the word

now?

LMAOOOOO

he rips that shit off youuu

President of the "I'll just buy you a new one" club

it's rough btw unlike Kun, Ten is rough and occasionally enjoys it when you're on top

hehe

"fuck...I'd choose this pu$$y over diamonds any day"

Winwin

See how pretty this man is?

yeah he's gonna make sure you're even prettier than him

Literally bathes you in expensive shit.

SPOILLS you omggg

it's worrying sometimes

to the point where the bank calls him

asking if he's aware that there is a concerning amount of money leaving his account

From head to toe it's luxuryyyyy

the s3x is good....just good

I'm sure I've said this before but Winiwn strikes me as someone who just gets to it.

not too rough not too gentle yk?

its just right

he does like when you wear that little diamond collar he got you when he's ball deep inside you though

he's strictly sugar daddy btw

I think he'd prefer that

Xiaojun

if you manage to pull him and keep him you're one lucky mf

this man moves through sugar babies like the days of the week

He likes the thrill of it all imo

yes he'll spoil you

but you better make sure the pleasure you give him is worth the 100k he just splurged

"C'mon now princess, Daddy knows you can do way better than that" he whispers teasingly as your body trembles from exhaustion and overstimulation

he likes to be kept on his toes

and you keep surprising him

your bills are paid and you're getting f*cked dumb

and he has the prettiest girl to spoil and break

It's a win-win honestly

Hendery

he's so sweet at first omlll

yes he dotes on you and all that jazz

but you guys actually become friends yk?

he's a whole gentleman

never crossing the line

just kind and attentive

gets you WHATEVER you want

and mean ANYTHING

nothing is out of reach for his baby

he just expects you to behave

but what's the fun in that?

let him catch you trying to buy things with your own money

or some shit like that

you are DONEE

when he f*cks you

he ensures that you merge with the mattress

takes "fuck you into the mattress" literally

ass up face down supremacy

do not play with him like that.

"Move your hand baby, I told you actions have consequences"

Yang Yang

This mf is just horny

lmaooo

very possessive oml

and not in the mature way like Kun or the gentlemanly way like Hendery

but possessive like a damn child

you go to parties together and he doesn't want you talking for anybody else too long

look at him and only him

the fucker got you a carrier bracelet with his name embedded into it

and told you to wear it at all times

for the most part, he's harmless

extremely touchy-feely

controls his urges well though

unless you're fucking around too much

then he has to show you why you should just let him be

it's fast and hard

I'm so serious

This MF can go roundsss

because he's desperate asf

BABY TRAPPING CENTRAL

"Such a fuckin' tease. let's see how much teasing you'll do when I swell you up hm?"

[plussizeficchick]

Romantic Lover| Bakudeku x Chubby! Reader

Its the long awaited part 2 y’all! Sorry it took so long but I needed to get the thoughts together😂loosely based on the Eyedress song of the same name. Part 1

Warnings: death(nothing too explicit)double penetration, reader uses she/they pronouns.

Katsuki Bakugo is never one to be intimidated. Ever since he was born, he’d been told he was destined for greatness and while the compliments were nice, they never felt meaningful.

If Bakugo was being honest, he couldn’t give a shit about what anybody thought of him.

Then you had to come along.

Things were going just great for him too, you know? He was top of his class, he was improving rapidly with his quirk and most importantly, he was better than fucking Deku and he knew it!

But then you showed up, with your big, round eyes and cute chubby cheeks. You with your soft, plushy waist that he just wanted to hold onto with his rough, calloused hands. You with your deliciously thick thighs that he just wanted to suck, and bite and kiss.

You, who’s compliments mean more to him than anything in the world.

But you’re always with fucking Deku!

There’s never a moment where his head is not up your ass and you’re too fucking naive to notice!

But he’s not, and he’s gonna do something about it.

— —

Izuku used to consider himself a people person.

Always willing to lend a hand, be a shoulder to cry on, he was never one to turn someone away, stranger or not.

But then, you strolled back into town.

Izuku remembers your time together growing up. Truthfully, it shaped him into the hero-in-training he is today. He always admired your strength, your ability to block out people that always seemed to have something to say about you.

If Izuku was being honest with himself, he liked you a lot.

But now.

Oh, but now, he’s pretty sure he’s in love with you.

He still remembers seeing you on your first day back, he’d always had an unconscious habit of strolling by your grandparents house, on the off chance that’d he see you in the same yard you used to play in, when he saw you.

You’d filled out, quite nicely, if he does say so himself. Wide hips that he was sure would feel like heaven to hold, yummy thick thighs that he just wanted to sandwich his head between, lapping up the juices of the fattest, prettiest cunt he’s sure to ever exist. Plump lips that he’s wanted to kiss ever since he was a kid.

You were gorgeous. And he had to talk to you.

— —

Once you’d settled back into town, Izuku made it a point to always see you. At first, his friends wondered where he was running off to, then they had the “smart” idea to follow him one day and that’s when they stumbled upon you.

Izuku couldn’t explain it, but for some reason, when he’d been practically forced to introduce you to his friends, he felt a burning pit in his stomach. He felt annoyed, vexed, because you were no longer just his. He knew his friends, knew that they’d want to see you and be around you. You just had that kind of energy, you were someone people gravitated toward.

And Izuku didn’t like that.

But what could he do? It’s not like he can just steal you away.

Could he?

No, no. That wouldn’t do. It’d only make you dislike him, and he really, really wants you to like him.

So he’s willing to share you, for now.

— —

It isn’t even a few months into you meeting Izuku’s friends that he and Bakugo start competing for your affection. You’re having lunch with Izuku? Fine, but you’re having dinner with Kat. Bakugo treating you to a cute brunch in the park? Nice, Izuku’s got a whole evening planned with your favorite activities involved. And the compliments, they’re practically never ending with those two. Where Izuku’s are more upbeat and hopeful, Katsuki’s are more aggressive and abrasive but they’re so authentically them, that you don’t mind at all!

It’s finally a week where they’ve completely run out of ideas that Izuku comes to Katsuki with the idea. “Why don’t we just share them?” He says to Katsuki when they’re on their way to their respective internships. “Hah? They’re not a fucking toy, Deku. We can’t just-” “Why not, Kaachan? It’s obvious we both like her. And I’d rather work with you and keep away other people than have to compete with you and other guys.” Bakugo contemplates his words before coming to a decision. “Alright, fuckin’ nerd. I’ll work with you, but you remember; we fuck her together, so you better not try to get your fuckin’ shrimp dick wet before I do.” He scowls before extending his hand. Izuku brightens at his compliance and shakes his hand, the final nail in the coffin.

— —

If the boys were being honest with themselves, this was a lot harder than they’d originally anticipated.

Not necessarily the working together, they actually got on really well, more than Katsuki would like to admit considering he was starting to feel things for the dork and vice versa, but it was more so everyone else.

Whenever they’re with you they can’t help but notice that people are always looking at you. Granted, you did dress less modest than others your size but who cares? So you’ve got more skin to show, it’s not anything to gander at. While you’re under the impression that the stares you garter are of judgment, the boys can see the true nature of their looks. They can see the underlying desire, the lust brewing in the eyes of men, women and everything in between. They’re familiar because they see that look in each others eyes every time they’re around you.

It disgusts them.

They’re the only ones allowed to gaze at you in such a way, the only ones allowed to bask in your presence.

They’ve got some work to do.

— —

You’re nervous.

For the past few weeks, there have been back to back murders and the most unsettling part, is that they all happen at places that you frequent. That cute little bakery with the super nice barista who sometimes gives you a treat for free? Yeah, that same barista was found dead not even five feet away from the place. That nice, cozy grocery store just a few yards from your house with the sweet cashier that asked for your number? Her body was found in the freezer of that same store.

And the most recent? Your dear friend, Ochako recently came over to confess her growing feelings for Izuku.

You were a bit sad, sure, considering you also had feelings for the freckled man but you encouraged her and spent your night wallowing in self pity.

So you thought, that this Halloween party would help boost the spirits of you and your friends. You’d never anticipated it’d end like this!

Or did you?

— —

“Hey, I’m talking to ya. Or are ya too fucked to even pay attention.” Katsuki coos to you. You whine, the pressure of the head of his cock hitting you deliciously. “Be nice, Kaachan. She just came three times.” Izuku hushes, peppering wet kisses up and down your neck. Izuku wasn’t going to lie, his cock felt like it was near bursting the way your hole was squeezing him. He could barely move! But he didn’t have to worry about that too much with the way Katsuki was practically bouncing you on their cocks.

“Fuckin’ creaming my dick, baby. Y’like that? Feel good?” Katsuki grunts into your ear. You can barely form a response, only able to nod and form incoherent babbles. “S’good ‘Suki. Izu. Making me feel s’good. Gonna-” “That’s it, sweetheart. You close?” Izuku asks, already knowing the answer. The way your holes were clamping down on both of them had them practically breathless, but they needed you to cum first.

Katsuki reaches down to where you both connect and gathers some of the wetness collected there. “So. Fucking. Gooddd.” He groans, using his now lubricated fingers to circle your clit, the bud practically twitching under his ministrations. “Fuck! Kat, Izu, gonna- please!” You cry out. You don’t even know what you're begging for. Less, more, it’s all blurring together in the haze of your orgasm. Izuku pulls your chubby cheeks to look at him, puckering your lips in the process, “Cum, baby. Make a mess of us. It’s all yours.” You don’t know why, but it’s those words that triggers the hardest orgasm you think you’ve ever had. Your cunt spasms around their lengths as you milk their cocks for all their worth.

It doesn’t take long before their thrusts turn sloppy and they’re filling you up with their seed. It’s warm and has your tummy turning in the best way and it takes everything in you to keep in the rush of cum threatening to spill out.

The boys collapse on either side of you, not before wetting a cloth and running it through your folds and giving you a quick snack and tons of praise.

You almost don’t want to, but you know you have to address the elephant in the room. “So, you guys were behind all those murders?” You ask. You feel them stiffen, but you’re quick to reassure them. “I’m not upset or anything! I guess I’m just trying to understand why.” Katsuki scoffs, before pulling you further into his arms. “Cause your fucking ours. And it’s gonna stay that way.” He says with finality. You nod, but there’s still something bothering you, “But what about Ochako? She didn’t have any interest in me.” Izuku blinks one eye open, content being snuggled into your side. “Well we can’t have you thinking someone has a chance with either of us, can we?” You nod and watch as both of your boys settle into you. However you can’t help the smirk that makes it’s way to your face.

Silly boys, don’t they know the coach shouldn’t leave their playbook out in the open?

— —

Taglist: @xogabbiexo @pervysenpaix @dabilovesme @sintiva @blkchxrryblyss @tenyaiidasslut @luna-indigoduh @bookwormsenpai @bl--ankhaeji @thicksimpx @namjoonswifeyy @nasty-quillz @haikyutiehoe @musicisme333 @anotherfuckedupdayinthelifeofme @celi-xxmoon

[heartfullofleeches]

Practice

College Yan + Older Neighbor Reader [M + G.N]

Summary: A friend requests a favor from you after a rough night

Warning: Legal age gap, mentions of alcohol and drugs, emotional manipulation, groping

-

12 missed calls....

"..Hey, Y/n. Just realized you're probably still at work right now....l I just wanted to say thanks for everything. Without you - I don't think I'd be out here tonight.."

"Y/n - hey! Oh... just missed you I guess. I just arrived, and... honestly I'm really nervous. There's more people than I thought there'd be and I don't know anyone. You mind if I call again? Even if you don't answer - it's nice not being alone."

"Y/n... things are going pretty good so far. Someone just came up to me and handed me a cup. I've never drank before, but I have too many regrets already to have another. This goes out to you."

"Are you afraid of dying alone?.... it never crossed my mind until my grandad died a few years back. Nobody liked the guy so he just.... wasted away alone in his house. I don't want that to happen to me. I wish you were here."

"Y/n?.... fuck... please don't listen to that last message. Can you come pick me up? I sent the address to you earlier, but I forgot to tell you. I think I drank too much and I know it's late but... fuck."

"You're coming to pick me up...aren't you? You wouldn't leave me behind like everyone has... I'm so happy I-"

Message Saved.

You didn't need to hear the rest. Teddi was the sweetest guy you've met in recent years. A little rough around the edges, sure, but it's a given with everything he's been through. Once you cracked that shell, he revealed that dorky, loveable self of his who still cried when animals died in movies yet gushed for hours about his fascination with horror media as a whole. You thought you were doing the right thing by trying to get him out of his comfort zone - keep him from turning out like you.

Breathing through your teeth, you toss your phone into the passenger seat as you exit the vehicle. Beer glasses and someone's glasses left out in the field crunch beneath your feet as you cross the lawn up to the house and adjacent door. Poking your head through the crack; a sea of young adults and their peers overcrowd the living space - egging each other into boisterous acts and having the time of their new lives. Realistically you couldn't be a few years older than the older face in the crowd, but this wasn't your click. You walk up to the nearest, unattended person and tap them on the shoulder.

"Excuse me, looking for someone. Thick glasses, nose ring, blue...ish hair? Should've brought my phone out-"

"Oh!! You must be Ted's partner. Y/n - right?."

"We aren't dating. I'm their neighbor."

"My bad - he's just been talking about you all night so I thought - anyway, he's up on the roof. Said he needed the fresh air. Just head upstairs, the ladder to the attic should be right there.

"Alright. Thanks." You push past them and up the stairs - bracing your foot on the ladder rails that creek under your weight as you climb up into the attic. The room is foggy, musty fog filtered out the open door leading to the patio. You reject an offer for its source as politely as you could as you brush by the individuals occupying the space, pulling your shirt over your nose as you step out into the chilly night. Laying on a blanket made of someone else's coat, Teddi sits beneath the stars wearing the jacket you lent him about a week ago. He takes the blunt offered by a peer, breaking off its tip as he pulls it to his lips. You knock on the door frame twice - smoke violent exhausted from his nose and lungs as he turns around to see you.

"Y/n." Teddi staggers to his feet, legs tangled in his makeshift blanket as he trips and stumbles his way towards you. He sports a dopey grin, fixing your jacket to his shoulder. "Hey, we were just talking about you - this is.. uh.." He snapped his fingers. "Fuck."

"Trudy."

"Trudy! Right, haha - they're great, but not as great as you."

"That's great." You wrap an arm around their shoulder, turning them towards the door. "We're leaving."

Teddi slurs out a whine, leaning back - trying to pull you with him. "What? But you just got here. I wanna introduce you to everyone first."

"Maybe later. I need to get you home." Your right hand finds the small of his back, locking around his waist. "Car - now."

His pink face flushes further. "Okay...."

-

Loading Teddi into the car, his head slumps against the passenger window as you shut the door. The ride home is mostly quiet - his hand glued to your lap no matter how many times you nudge him away. His head rolls over to your shoulder and the alcohol on his breath fans your face as he speaks.

"Do you think somebody will ever love me, Y/n?"

"Why are you asking me?"

"I meant someone tonight."

He studies your face. No twinge of jealousy or sadness. You almost looked relieved. He swallows, buring the ache as he continues. "I meant someone and.... I know they're way out of my league. Kind....smart....when they smile it's like the whole room lights up. We hadn't known each other for long, but they've always been there and... I can't imagine life without them now that they're here. Despite our differences I know we are meant for each other."

You ease your foot off the gas. "....Ted. You're a good kid. If I had known a guy like you back when I was your age I would have loved to get to know him."

Teddi sits upright, looking down as he rubs his face. "Quit talking like you're so much older than me..."

"We're here."

Teddi glances outside. Always when he works up the courage to talk to you.. You park outside your house and round the car to help him get to his. Teddi clutches your arm as you face his yard.

"Please don't make me go home tonight, Y/n."

His nails dig into your shirt. "Please."

You sigh. Helping him up the driveway and into your home, you guide Teddi into your bedroom- afraid of what's happen if you give him the couch. Teddi relaxes as you cross the threshold into your living room. The familiarity of your home, just the two of you in this vast space - he wouldn't give it up for anything. The lingering stress melts from his face as you lower him into your bed, resting on the pillow you lay your head on every night. You set his glasses on the dresser and bring him a glass of water - wishing him good night as you turn off the lights. Hovering over the bed, he grabs your wrist as you turn to leave.

"Y/n..... please stay with me tonight."

He brings a hand up to your face, stroking your jaw as he pulls you closer. "Kiss me, Y/n."

".... how much did you drink, Teddi."

"Alot, but - I need you... to help me I mean. I've never kissed anyone before, and I need the practice if I'm ever going to tell them how I feel. You're the only person I can turn to for this. You promised that you would always be there for me."

You knew that would come back to haunt eventually. "Ted, when I said I'd help you with anything, I meant like teaching you how to do your taxes or change a tire. This isn't something we should be doing."

His cheek presses against your neck, fresh tears staining your skin. "We can forget about it in the morning.... They're all I have. You're all I have... Please don't leave me too."

"....show me."

"Huh?"

"How you would confess. Show me."

You sit on the edge of the bed. Teddi props back against the frame, tucking his hair behind one ear and fixing his shirt. He chews on his bottom lip - the moonlight reflecting off your skin basking you in that heavenly shine he always saw. He looks down. "I'm gonna use your name just to make it easier - okay?"

Teddi takes a deep breath. "Y/n - you... you're the most amazing person I've ever met. When I'm with you, it's like opening my eyes for the first time. You're someone I know I can trust through thick and thin... you've always been there for me, and I want to be here for you... forever."

He scoots closer, placing a hand on your lap as he cups your cheek - leaning in til his forehead rests against yours. "I like you...I love you. Please, stay with me."

Teddi slowly closes the distance; fingers restricted round your thigh as his lips fall flush against yours. It feels like a crime - your soft skin beneath his chapped, bitten lips. He presses deeper, engraving every each of you into his memory and being that his mind would allow. His tongue ghosts your lower lip, snaking against your teeth. His hand clasps the base of your neck as he adds his weight to your chest, pulling you up on the bed as he brings your hanging leg up to his side.

"y/n....."

He cards his fingers through at your hair - the taste of whiskey and desperation hot on your tongue as you wince from the abrupt tug at the back of your skull. The depth of your mouth is more indicating than any substance he had all night. His fingers sink into the flesh of your leg, working towards the curve of your ass as a moan vibrates through your teeth centered from throaty whine he makes as they close around his tongue. His lip ram yours as he tilts his head for a better angle with enough force to bruise, and by god he hopes it does. Biting down doesn't stop his tongue from barreling down your throat - ball piercing sucked to the roof of your mouth. He gives pause only when he finally accepts the stars dancing in view are from the lack of oxygen rather the magic of the eve- falling to your chest with a few links and kisses between greedy intakes of air and your scent. He giggles, hiccuping as his arms shoot around your waist.

"My first kiss...... I made sure to tear off the end when I smoked with that girl so I wouldn't lose it even indirectly. Was I your first too? Can you by my first in other ways too?"

You pull from under him as he nips at your shoulder. "You're not into Trudy?"

"Trudy?" The name rolls off his tongue with such disgust and confusion. "Heck no. The person I like is so much more special than her. I'm lucky to even be in their presence. I wanna give them the world. My heart. I love you.... them- so much."

You fall silent as he nuzzles his face against your torso, eyes growing heavy. "It's late, Teddi. Go to bed."

"Will you sleep with me?.... Stay with me until the morning?..."

".....Always."

Teddi cuddles up to your side as you join him in bed - fighting exhaustion to treasure your sleeping face beside him.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

HEY BBG !! so happy u took that break and that ur requests are open nowww

so ive been wanting to tell u abt this dream i had with peter quill (of course i mean..who else) and turn it into a request!

its like after the holiday special and before gotg vol 3 where maybe reader was just cruising around knowhere before these cute lil kiddos come up to reader like "mx. ___, come play with us! we need one more player for our game" and it took them some time to actually convince reader and theyre finally like "alright alright" so they play a game with em

and just so the cliché and cheezy can come in, peter is also just walkin around yk, seeing what ppl doing, and boom 🤯🤯 the skrunkly sees reader playing with the kids

very cute n sweet best dream ive probably ever had, hopefully you can write this soon! I also dearly apologise for coming to you with peter requests only. I only feel comfy requesting things to you 💔

have a great week/end !!

-🪐

HI BBG!! I really hope I did this right, I felt pressure to write it as best as I could for to live up to your dream. also never apologise, I love that I can always rely on you to send in quill requests. and you’re so sweet, again I love that send ideas to me😩 thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

…

play ball

peter quill x gn reader

word count: 409

✧.┊ MASTERLIST

"Can you play with us?" a small, child-like voice asks, interrupting you from your thoughts. 

"Me?" you question, pointing to yourself as you glance around the quiet, empty park.

"Yeah," another kid adds, rolling the ball towards his friend.

"I'm not very good," you say, slowly turning your attention away.

"Please?"

"No one ever wants to play with us," a little girl joins in, frowning at you. 

"Just for a few minutes," one of the children pleads, giving you puppy eyes. 

You had a swarm of kids badgering you to join in with their ball game, and it was only a matter of time before they could wear you down. 

"Alright, alright," you exhale, standing from the bench where you were comfortably seated. "What're we playing anyway?" you ask, looking around at their mischievous faces.

"We can't tell you."

"And why's that?"

"The last time we had an adult, we..." a kid trails off, pausing.

"You what?" you ask, eyes squinting.

"We accidentally hurt him," he said bashfully.

"Hurt him?" 

"Yeah, we threw the ball at him too hard."

"Yeah," another joins in.

"It was an accident, though— we didn't mean it."

"We said 'sorry,'"

You chuckle, shaking your head. "Filling me with great confidence, kids,"

"We won't hurt you,"

—

After a while of playing and following their impossible, make-it-up-as-you-go-along rules, you were tired and in desperate need of a break. So you excuse yourself back to your bench, except now, there's someone in your space. 

"Do you mind if I sit?" you ask, nodding to the empty seat beside the man. 

"Sure, go ahead," he nods, crossing his ankle over his knee. "Those kids tire you out?" he asks, making friendly conversation. 

"Big time," you laugh, holding your side. "And they're not even mine." 

"No, no, I know. I just know from experience," he chuckles, turning to face you. "Last time I played, I got kicked in the nuts."

"You did?" you fail to hide your laugh. "They can pretty rough."

"Tell me about it," he rolls up his sleeve, extending his arm. "Also got bitten."

You look over his forearm to see the outline of a bitemark, a small circle of faint pink that was sure to form into a scar.

"You got bitten? I didn't think I'd consider myself lucky," you chuckle, looking ahead at the kids who are now tackling one another. "Wild little things."

"That they are," he says, smiling at you. "I'm Peter."

— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —

quill taglist: @annielr @spacetalbot @bubblezuku @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser @queerponcho @selfryed @traiitorjoe

[polyabathtub]

Apropos of absolutely nothing (my dash losing its collective shit about the Panthers victory celebrations, me repeatedly seeing videos and going “lol that man is most certainly not drunk”), here’s some info on how one might be able to tell that someone is taking MDMA (aka Molly, ecstasy). The common term for this is rolling*.

Disclaimer: I do not actually know what specific people may or may not have taken, I’m just providing some useful information for my fellow fic writers (fic stands for fiction!) should they decide to write fiction inspired by some of the amazing content we saw last week.

I have heart problems so have never been able to take it myself—but I’m friends with a lot of burners**, and have been blessed with the opportunity to participate in MDMA-fueled cuddle piles. It’s a good time but it can also be dangerous, and it doesn’t mix well with a lot of common medications (particularly antidepressants).

MDMA is a party drug. It makes things like pretty lights and textures more interesting. If you’ve seen “Someone Great” on Netflix, Jenny getting super into textures is a pretty good representation (it’s also one of my favorite movies, but be warned you WILL cry). I couldn’t find a gif within 0.2 seconds of searching so you don’t get one, sorry.

MDMA causes muscle clenching. Taking magnesium helps (magnesium threonate for the brain, magnesium glycinate or bisglycinate are also good for muscle spasms, not too tough on digestion and cheaper). It’s also rough on the brain. Taking something like NAC can reduce risk, but in general MDMA isn’t something that’s safe to do frequently, even if you have a good source and you’re testing your drugs before taking them. I’m not an expert on safe use so I’m not going to give specific recs here, but the people I know who take it research heavily and pregame with supplements.

The other thing that’s key—electrolytes. MDMA messes with electrolyte homeostasis, so it’s important to stay hydrated, and that hydration should be more than just water. If I were, say, a professional athlete celebrating a championship win with Molly, I would probably carry around a bottle of something like pedialyte to sip from (though my personal preference would be a sports-oriented sugar containing supplement like Skratch or LMNT).

MDMA removes your inhibitions to physical contact, particularly with people you’re already positively oriented towards. So, slow dancing with your teammates? Absently groping your teammate’s chest while half paying attention? Literally hanging off of whoever is next to you all night? Molly.

MDMA wrecks pupil reflexes, so anyone taking it who is outside of their natural environment (a dark room with interesting lights) is easily recognizable by their absolutely massive pupils. Or squinting like hell when they hit bright lights***.

MDMA keeps you from sleeping until it wears off. The high lasts 3-6 hours but it’ll probably keep you awake until the morning. Also, when it wears off it often causes molly blues, which might last for a few minutes or hours or sometimes up to a couple of days. Essentially, MDMA floods the brain with serotonin, and when it wears off, it can take some time for things to re-equilibrate.

My point here: I really think there’s a lot of fanfic potential in certain Panthers (Barky) trying this thing for the first time and having an amazing night and then suddenly feeling some big “oh god now that I’ve won it, who do I become?” feelings that <player of your choice> then helps them through.

*for an example of “rolling” in a sentence, see this quote from my recent fic wie viel:

Leon briefly regretted not wearing a hat, or maybe sunglasses, which were fairly effective as a disguise but tended to make people assume he was already rolling—the man wasn’t acting like he’d recognized him, though.

That fic relies on Leon showing up to a private party with a ton of cash (because he’s leaving open the option of buying drugs and also isn’t sure how expensive the party will be) and keeping his face bare (so people won’t assume he’s already set for the night). This conveniently enables the misunderstanding that drives the rest of the plot.

**burners: people who go to Burning Man. This is not a euphemism but it probably could be. If you aren’t sure if any of your friends are burners, don’t worry—they’ll tell you! (I say this with affection, but it is exactly like when your childhood friends got back from summer camp and wouldn’t shut up about it for weeks)

***yes I am thinking of a specific photo of a specific 2-way cat

[random-writing-panda]

||•~Old Flames Part 3~•||

Jason Todd (Red Hood) x reader  

Warnings: language, alcohol consumption, harassment

Word count: 2.1k

Part 1, Part 2

It’s here part 3! I’ve been so busy with work this week I am absolutely exhausted! I'm so sorry for the wait on this one! I am trying to train myself to find writing a relaxing/de-stress task but I’m not quite there yet so its still taking a bit to get motivated to write. Thank you all so so much for the support and love I’m so excited and happy that people are enjoying my writing. Thank you to all the people who asked to be tagged!

====================================

After your argument with Red Hood you start avoiding Jason like the plague and during this time you get closer with the mysterious stranger at work. Will Jason try to win you back or lose you forever?

====================================

You had been miserable the last week. You were second guessing every decision you had made, had you over reacted? Maybe he would have told you eventually? No, he should have told you as soon as he found you. You couldn’t back down now. If he wanted you in his life he could come back on his hands and knees with some answers, any answers really.

The turmoil inside you was showing on your body in very noticeable ways, dark circles framed your eyes from restless nights, you hadn’t been eating well and your skin looked dull. You truly couldn’t care less about what you looked like you were trying to stay calm over the fact that you had just sent your best friend away, potentially forever, because of a moment of anger, you had to keep reminding yourself you deserved better than his lies, it didn’t make it any easier.

Work was surprisingly the only thing getting you through, at least here you could keep busy, chit chat with the old ladies that came in for their tea and coffee, you could ignore the stabbing feeling in your heart for the hours you were running around the store.

“Well, you look just about as crappy as I feel.” You look up from the benchtop you were wiping down and saw the handsome man from a few weeks ago, you recognised the same gorgeous green eyes, he was right, they looked as tired as yours did.

 “Having a rough week?” You let out a small chuckle at his exasperated sigh.

“You have no idea.” He stepped up to the bench leaning against it with his hip.

“Same as last time?”

This made him smile and there was a glint of mischief in his tired eyes, “You remember my order? Already?” He nods, confirmation of his order.

“You are a memorable person.” You shrugged and started brewing his coffee. “You know you still haven’t given me your name, I feel like I’m at a disadvantage!” you teased as your hand moved over your name tag.

“I don’t need that to remember your name darling, you’re quite memorable yourself. Plus, no Name just adds to my mysterious charm don’t you think?”

“Cute.” You look at him with one eyebrow raised. “But a name would be helpful, what am I supposed to put on the cup?” you joke with him almost effortlessly it felt like talking with an old friend it felt natural. It felt right.

“Fine if you need a name so bad,” he smirks, “its Ronaldo Fitzgerald”.

You roll your eyes and turn the cup to him, “Don’t know if that will fit on the cup.”

“mm” He hums in agreement nodding his head, “Well if you want a different name, you could go on a date with me some time.”

Your eyebrows raise and your lip’s part slightly, suddenly your mouth feels a little dry. You ponder his request for a moment, he was attractive enough, from the interactions you’ve had you seemed to get along pretty well. But it was still Gotham, you had to be careful. “Well, my shift finishes in a few minutes, if you stick around we can have some drinks and a little food?” you looked over to the wall, it truly had been great timing, five minutes left.

He smiled, a genuine smile, not a half smile, not his smirk, just a smile. “That sounds perfect darling, I’ll go take a seat.”

He walked over to a table while you had a quick chat with your coworker who was taking over. You quickly pack your belongings into your bag and make your way over to the table.

“I believe you owe me a name Mr..?”

“Oh, but does this count as a date?”

“Why wouldn’t it?”

“This is more like two friends having afternoon tea, not really romantic.”

“Is this you asking for a second date? Already? Better be careful, might start thinking you like me.” You laugh a little as your coworker places your favourite drink down on the table and you nod and thank them.

“of course, I like you.”

That took you by shock. “Why? You don’t even know me yet.”

“Well, I like what I’ve seen so far, and I’m sure I will like everything else.” There was such sincerity in his eyes it made your heart flutter ever so slightly.

“You said that I look as bad as you feel, what’s happening in your life Mr mysterious?”

He leant back in the chair his arms up resting his head back into his knotted hands. “I kinda did something stupid and really upset a friend of mine…” his tone had an amused cadence to it but his physicality showed something closer to embarrassment, his relaxed posture turning ridged and a slight blush creeping onto his face, his eyes were glued to the ground.

“How badly did you fuck up?” you were curious, intrigued by how similar your situations had turned out to be, sipping your drink you watch him lift his head and press his lips together as they formed a thin line, and he almost pouted at you, he looked like a child being scolded.

“Pretty bad…I think I might have ruined our friendship.” He looked back down to the floor, and you watch him sigh deeply, “It was so stupid too I don’t know why I didn’t just talk to them…”

“Well how long have you been friends?”

“Ah-…that’s…also complicated.” He grimaced.

“You seem like a very complicated man.” A small chuckle escapes you.

“You have no idea. Anyhow, we were friends, honestly more like family since we were little kids but when I got a bit older things got…”

“Complicated?”

You see his body jerk a little and hear a quick exhale as he tried not to laugh. “Yeah, we ended up getting closer again but then I did this stupid thing and I think I lost them…”

“Well, I don’t know what you did but if I were the friend id just want you to apologise and explain the situation.” Were you projecting? Maybe? Was it still good advice? You hoped so.

He ran his finger across the back of his neck and rubbed at it sheepishly. “Yeah, I just haven’t had the guts to face them yet, they were always pretty scary.”

This made you laugh; a full-blown belly laugh that shook your entire body, the man in front of you looked like a body builder, was six feet tall, and was decked out in a leather jacket, everything about him screamed intimidating but here he sat scared to face his friend. You felt a little bad laughing at his expense, but it was all too adorable not too. After a few moments you hear his light chuckles.

“Yeah, I suppose it sounds a little silly.”

“No, no I’m sorry, it’s just, you,” You waved your hands in front of you gesturing at his entire body. “Being scared of someone is hard to imagine. In all seriousness though you should just go talk to them, the longer you wait the worse it will be.”

“Yeah, I know you’re right. Ill talk to them.” He looked at you with those eyes, those gorgeous eyes that reminded you of some lost fondness like remembering a childhood pet, and they were filled with determination.

The two of you spent the better part of an hour chatting before exchanging numbers and parting ways, you were so glad you accepted his offer it was the best date you had been on in a long time. As you looked down at your phone now holding his contact information you realised, he still hadn’t given you his name.

∞∞

After listening about how you mystery man was going to fix his issues with his friend you felt a heaviness overcome you, there were so many emotions mixed inside you, you felt as though you could drown in them, you were angry that he was going to fix his situation but Jason couldn’t come fix yours, you felt so much guilt about being angry but more than anything you were still just sad, you missed Jason perhaps more than when you thought he was dead.

You had to do something to distract yourself, so you made your way to your favourite bar. You are about five drinks in when the bartender pipes up starting to chat with you.

“Anymore and you might drown.” He teased.

“Thatss the point!” you hadn’t realised how tipsy you were getting but your slurred words gave you some clarity, part of you knew you should stop, leave and go back to home to sleep off the emotions but the other part of you won, the part that was filled with emotions and tears and Jason, the part of you that you wanted to drown out.

“Drinking your problems won’t fix em’”.

“No but it’ll make me forget them!” you happily chirped as you took another drink.

The bartender sighed and walked away. You sat at the bar and continued nursing drinks for a few hours and as you walked out of the bar you cursed yourself out, it was hard for you to walk straight and it felt like the sidewalk was spinning like a carousel, you placed a palm on the building next to you and dragged you hand over the cool bricks and cement trying to steady yourself.

You only make it a few blocks when you hear whistles and footsteps, a group of men cross the street, their eyes set on you, you beg your brain to move your feet faster and they do but in your intoxicated state you end up stumbling over your own feet.

“Hey sweetheart what’s a pretty girl like you doin’ out so late?” one of the men shout from behind you and you can hear the others snickering.

You push yourself off the wall and start walking again, the throbbing in your temples was not helping you see straight.

“Hey! it’s not nice to ignore people little lady!” one of the men grabs you shoulder spinning you around to face them.

“I’m..jusst trying to go…home..” you stutter out and try to pull away.

“Why go home when you can have some fun with us darling?” the look on his face was downright malicious.

“Don’t call me that! jusst want to go home…please leave.” You were scared now the throbbing had turned to pounding now and there was so much pressure on your brain you thought your head might explode, this wasn’t safe but there was no way for you to get away from this.

“The lady wants to go home so why don’t you unhand her?” a new voice chimed in, it was one you recognised and as the group of men turned you saw the mystery man from the café, your date.

“How about you keep moving and mind your business, man.” One of the men stepped towards him, ready to, wanting to fight.

“Oh, you really don’t want to do that.” you café date was smirking as he shifted his stance ready to fight.

Before you knew it punches were being thrown and you were tossed to the floor by the man holding you, it didn’t help with the spinning. It was hard for you to focus on the fight all you knew was that the was a lot of cursing and groans, you catch glimpses through you spinning vision and it looks like the group of men were losing, it was incredible, a few were on the floor covered in blood and you watched as your date landed a hit right into one mans jaw, you swear you heard a crunch of broken bones. After an agonising few minutes your date was the last one standing, they had gotten a few hits in, his busted lip and bruises were already prominent as he walked over to you.

“What are you doing here…?” you slurred out as he pulled you up into his arms. “Stalking me…”

“More like saving you.” He softly grabbed you chin and moved you face left and right checking for any injuries. “Did they hurt you?”

You shake your head before you realised how bad of a decision that was the movement sends the world spinning again and you rest your forehead on his chest groaning loudly.

“Okay come on Darling lets get you home, where do you live?” when you didn’t respond he looked down and saw your closed eyes. “Oh god seriously? Fuck, fine come on then.” He groans and pulls you up into his arms as he carries you down the streets one of his arms wrapped around your back and the other tucked under your knees as he pulled you close to his chest.

===================

Tag list:

General tag list~ @jasontoddslover

Old Flames tag list~ @just-lost-inbetween-worlds @princessbl0ss0m @batmanunicorns523

[hetalia-club]

I just have to spill my thoughts here for a second about my personal life for my own sanity. feel free to happily ignore and scroll by.

Good news everyone :D I just dumped my toxic emotionally abusive boyfriend. Terrible News everyone! :DDDD He was also my best friend and childhood best friend so isn't that great!? :)))

We were supposed to go to Sicily together in May...Why did I DO THAT!? I spent 2k on my plane ticket...the room is reserved... Do I like just not go to Italy now? Do I say F it and just go by myself? Do I try and quickly beg someone else to go with me who's okay with spending at least 2k on a plane ticket? Which would be no one in my life, maybe my parents would but idk what they got going on. I really wanted to go. Why could I have like just not waited until after that? We share a friend group and they are all more his friends than mine. So I just like isolated myself for no reason.

Sorry to dump this here and no I don't expect any of you to have the answers or do anything with this information.

These past few weeks for me have been really rough and I just made it somehow worse.

He distanced me from all my former friends who have all like moved on and have families and whatever and who I have not spoken to in five years so all I have right now is my family and work 'friends' I don't even like. I'm going to have to live with my parents for who knows how long because it was his house he had all the money in our relationship. He convinced me to quit my good desk job with benefits to work part time as a barista so I could clean his house and cook for him. But he also put up with all my weirdness and was fine with it.

Like when I say I have no idea what to do I truly mean that.

again I don't want anyone to feel responsible to do something about how I royalty screwed up my life. It's no ones fault. I shouldn't have let him isolate me so much from my friends and former life but TOO LATE NOW! I just need to stop being with men who have brown hair and brown eyes but are objectively terrible.

My only silver lining is that I was the one to end it. Which if anything am proud of myself for that because I have never broken up with anyone before and I normally just deal with whatever people do to me no matter how terrible and mean they are. I just have always forgiven him and everyone else.

But when some dude bro sits you down and asks you to "List reasons why you deserved to be loved by him" it was just too much. Like that might seem petty but I am sick of being the 'pretty girlfriend' I am so tired of having to dress to the 9s to go out and be expected to be perfect even if we're just going to a F*ng dive bar where I get stared out for dressing like I'm going to a club. Where he gets to look like a diarrhea stain who can't be bothered to wear a shirt that's not wrinkled or shave his scraggly beard. Why he thinks I should make a list of MY worth as a human being in his eyes. When he is average at best!? Like I'm not a 10 I'm not perfect I'm not delusional, I don't think I'm the hottest girl in the world or gods gift to man kind. But I'm out of his league, I do know that!

I always tend to cling to Hetalia harder when my life is falling apart around me because that's sort of just what I've done since I was a teen. I've never been in a healthy relationship with someone who actually likes me and Hetalia has always been there for me. Which is why I have been making a lot of content lately, it's been a distraction and I'm sorry if I've been bugging people with how much I've been posting. That's not been my intentions its just my coping mechanism and it's better than drinking...

This is the only social media I have that he's not on. I don't hate him enough to block him. I do still want to try and be his friend at some point if that's possible. I love his family and they love me and it's going to be so upsetting to see them again from a different perspective.

I'm okay...It's just been really rough lately...And I somehow just made it worse.(No I'm not going to hurt myself or anyone, don't even worry about that.)

[haretiker]

( Shoutout to @voiivode for helping me get the courage to come back on this account and to @fangedkitten for always having my back tbh ) 

[1kook]

viki & hickeys

the 8th installment to netflix & chill :~)

SUMMARY Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air.  WARNINGS a little hurt + a lot of comfort, mentions of cheating!villain!jin, insecure!kook, emotional breakdowns, mentions of jk’s lonely past, jk cries :( smut in the forms of making out, eating out, fingering, clit play, hickeys, jk likes cum, double orgasm, squirting, tiny praise kink, blindfolding, rough + unprotected sex, doggy style, choking!!!, breeding/impreg kink, JEALOUS KOOK, mini hand kink, a lil bit of spanking, degradation, he gets progressively meaner lol oc cries MISC there’s a lot of fuckin plot omfg -_-, it’s Valentine’s Eve!, doyeon makes Some Points, mentions of park seojoon juicy ass, they go on a d8 😳, oc like rlly wants to marry him, oc commits double phone homicide  RATING m (18+) WC 16.3k !!!! ik its fckin LOOOONG

NOTES (!) in true Viki fashion, here’s an nc fic where there’s like 3 different plot lines n a hot male antagonist <3 this series started off as just me wanting to write smut n it still is! now i just like to infuse different levels of angst into it as well </3 as always, lemme know what u think!! i proofread it twice but one of those times had been at 4 am so if u see a typo no u didn't. also here’s a gif  of jungkook crying during a dolly parton performances and here’s another gif of jungkook crying bc it’s scary how pretty he looks

Being evil and hot does not come for free. As you’ve long since learned in the past twenty-three years of your life, you truly can’t have it all. 

There is always some deliberating character flaw the universe must bestow upon you in order to level you out, make you fall onto the same plane as all the other mortals. Everyone has one, no matter how small or insignificant. Doyeon’s is that she doesn’t know how to work a straightening iron. Namjoon's is that he can’t tell the difference between water and liquor. Jungkook, despite all his tech-y nerdiness, doesn’t know how to do his own taxes. And yours? You don’t know shit about romcoms. 

Your knowledge on the romantic genre is what leads to this predicament now, the ring on your finger heavy as Doyeon regards you with what is perhaps the most unimpressed look known to mankind. “This is a promise ring,” she says bluntly, the bustling sounds of the coffee shop around you the soundtrack to your sudden realization. 

“No,” you deny, even though you know she’s right. “It’s an engagement ring.”

Doyeon rolls her eyes. “Babe,” she starts slowly, talks to you like you’re a dorky high schooler with her first boyfriend, “did he ask you to marry him?”

The truth is, the timing had been weird. It had been a few days after you’d rocked Jungkook’s world so you understand if he felt the sudden need to pop the question. But you were also sick as fuck that day, had only vaguely remembered the events because you were too busy with the snot up your nose and the raging fever you were battling. Had Jungkook asked you to marry him? 

You’re not so sure. 

It’s been a little over a month since then, and sure his lack of proactive wedding planning was a little weird, but you had always assumed Jungkook was one of those people who liked long engagements. Liked to drag out the last few months as a bachelor. Maybe he was waiting until you were both financially stable or something, who knows. 

Doyeon had been on some soul-searching journey around the country, so she hadn't been home for a while, had only heard of the ring through a two-second snapchat. This is the first time she’s seeing you and it in person; you can tell by the expression on her face that she’s rightfully disappointed. 

“Have you no shame, woman?” she tuts, arms crossed over her chest. “You have me parading around the world bragging about your engagement— just for this?”

You knock your forehead against the table, know it’s dirty and icky, but you deserve it. “Listen,” you huff. “I’ve only seen The Notebook, like, once.”

She scoffs. “I can tell. This is so embarrassing, don’t tell me you’ve brought it up to him?”

At her words you startle, nearly send the drinks flying across the floor. “No!” you shout, mindlessly reaching to twist the ring around your finger. It’s become a habit these past few weeks, a comfort to feel it around you. Granted, the feeling is a little muted now. “Of course he’d get me a promise ring,” you grumble, gaze flickering down to the silver band on your ring finger. “Jungkook loves all that cheesy corny stuff.” He really did. 

You’ve had enough of Doyeon’s disappointment, decide this coffee date has brought you enough three am anxiety material for the next year and a half. You conclude your date by taking a walk around town, arms locked together as you laugh at people who pass by because you’re both a little mean. 

“Maybe it’s for the best,” she says, and you agree. Well, a promise ring certainly meant something. It was, essentially, a pre-engagement ring. And the engagement ring that followed was a pre-wedding ring. And a wedding ring was, well, a wedding ring. Your heartbeat thunders at the thought. “You’re busy right now anyway,” she points out, snapping you out of your bumbling thoughts. “Aren’t you getting promoted at work soon?” 

Oh, you certainly were getting promoted at work. After many grueling months of hard work and dedication, the fruits of your labor were finally being recognized. Gone were the days of useless desk work, intern-like errands that barely required the use of any higher-order brain functions. You had worked hard these past few months, proved your worth over and over again, until you were here. Getting promoted into a new branch at your company— one where your talents were actually needed. And truth be told, there was one man to thank for that. 

Your friend and superior, Kim Seokjin. 

Seokjin is a great boss. In fact, you could argue he’s the best in the entire world and that, if it wasn’t for him, you would have quit this job that first month you started. But you had him to push you along, friendly smiles and encouragements that kept you going until this point, where you’re being promoted up into a branch where your degree finally matters. And it was all thanks to him! What Kim Namjoon was to Jungkook, Kim Seokjin was to you. 

So what if he cheated on his wife and flirted with the secretaries— Seokjin was practically a god in your eyes. 

And what Seokjin did in his free time was frankly none of your business anyway. You were colleagues at work, got along fairly well, but outside of work you were practically strangers. He was your beloved work colleague, someone Jungkook teased you about endlessly despite never having met him, and you were immensely thankful for him. “Should I be scared he’ll steal you from me?” Jungkook had joked one night, standing behind you as you scrolled through your company profile page. “He is a little handsome.”

You had pinched his side, smiling at his feigned concern when he pressed his lips to your temple. “You’re right,” you had joked back, “he is sooo cool.” And Jungkook had bitten you on the shoulder, laughed that pretty laugh when you yelped in surprise. 

Anyway, Kim Seokjin was a god, Jungkook was on his way to maybe, hopefully, one day, being your husband, and all was well. 

To honor this moment in time, you decide to swing by Jungkook’s place after your date with Doyeon, finding him lazily sprawled across his living room couch while What’s Wrong with Secretary Kim? plays on the Jumbotron. He’s in between projects right now, so he’s spent most of his time relaxing and catching up on all his favorite shows. 

Which brings you back to that deliberating character flaw of yours: no knowledge of the romantic genre to utilize in your everyday life. Your love language has always been blunt words, teasing jabs, the raw and unfiltered type of love. Emotions? Impossible to figure out. You’ve gotten pretty far in life reading verbal and physical cues; with Jungkook, you always know he’s upset when he does the little tongue-against-cheek thing, and it has saved you from many potential arguments. 

On the other hand, it is so obvious what Jungkook’s love language is when he spends fifty percent of his time on Viki, home to some of the most cheesy kdramas in existence. Most guys spend their weekends watching sports or dramatic action movies, but here was Jungkook. Watching some guy try to court his secretary. 

(Okay, he does watch sports and action movies too, but that’s not the point!)

“Hello, sweet boy,” you greet, plopping down beside him. Jungkook smiles back softly. He’s serving absolute pre-pre-husband deliciousness right now, cute glasses, fluffy curls, plaid bottoms that make him look so comfy. God, you were going to suck his dick tonight. 

Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, tastes like the chocolate cake you specifically told him not to eat without you. He blindsides you before you can scold him, pulls you onto his lap where the swell of his cock nudges against your thigh. Oh, you were definitely going to suck his dick and ride him well into the sunrise. 

“What’s my pretty girl doing here tonight?” he asks, cutely looping his fingers through yours. “Thought you were with the Wicked Witch of the West today?”

You roll your eyes, reposition yourself in a laughable attempt at pretending like you’re actually interested in the show. “We just went out for lunch,” you explain, watching the hot lead saunter across the screen. Juicy ass, but nothing compared to Jungkook’s. 

There’s a question lingering on the tip of your tongue, Doyeon’s explanations mixed with your worries, and you hold it for exactly ten seconds before you’re turning to face him head on, eyes going a little crossed from how close he is. “Hey,” you say bluntly. “Is this a promise ring?” you ask, wiggle your finger in his face. 

Jungkook blinks, once, twice, and then his face shoots up in flames. “Maybe,” he mumbles, lips pursed as he tries to avoid your gaze. He was adorable. You laugh, endeared by the red flush that crawls over his cute little cheeks and up his ears. Unable to stop yourself, you squeeze said cheeks between your hands, cooing at the annoyed expression that consumes him soon afterwards.  

“Aw, you want to marry me,” you tease, but it’s secretly a leading question for him to confess that yes, he does want to marry you. For as hot and confident as you are, you too are plagued with doubts. Doubts that can only be smoothed over by hearing it straight from Jungkook’s mouth. 

He rolls his eyes, trying to break free from your hold. “We’ve talked about this,” he murmurs, all embarrassed. But like always, Jungkook knows exactly what you want so he doesn’t deny it, and that’s good enough for you. He’s too flustered to look you in the eye now, childishly craning his head away from you when you try to force him into a staring contest. “Can I finish my show?” he whines, slightly not as hard now that you’ve reduced him into a shy, bumbling mess. It was a nice change of pace from his usual, composed self. 

But you relent, sliding off his lap to sit against his side, classic octopus hug around his waist. The episode is in full swing, not that you know anything about it. Like you said, romantic shows and movies were the least of your concerns. Jungkook, however, eats this type of shit up. “He still trying to fuck her?” you ask, not the least bit interested, but if you’re planning on sucking his dick tonight you have to listen to a few minutes of him rambling first. 

Jungkook sighs. “Yeah,” he says, “I don’t get it.” You hum, trail your hand over his abdomen teasingly. He feels so warm and lean beneath your palm, you were getting hot just thinking about it. “Why would anyone agree to dating their boss?”

You know that Jungkook’s boss is some old Facebook fart, pioneer of something on the site that neither of you two care about. So it makes sense that such a notion disturbs him. You shrug anyway. “Everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss,” you offer. “It’s like, the power dynamic, I guess.”

His frown deepens. “Would you?” Your boss isn’t exactly an old fart; the reason Kim Seokjin was such a renowned playboy is because, well, he had the looks to pull it off. Still, he had become a sort of respectable figure to you and the idea of sleeping with him doesn’t really sound appealing as much as it would to any other random bachelorette, which you admittedly were not. You glance at the screen, where Park Seojoon swaggers around in those tight slacks and fitted button-ups. 

“Hm,” you ponder, “maybe.” 

Jungkook laughs. “You’re supposed to say no, you idiot,” he says, knocks his forehead against yours softly. You can’t help but chuckle too, enamored with the happy glint in his eyes and the way his smile eats up his features. 

Oh, you loved this man. 

Because he was so sweet and good on Christmas, you let Jungkook make the plans for Valentine’s Day. After all, it’s his favorite holiday (“Why? Well, because it’s a day all about you, and me, and us,” he had sighed dreamily in the bathtub one night, hair adorably pushed back to showcase that handsome face of his. Bubbles clung to his chest, had made you dizzy with every breath he took.), so it’s only right that he gets to make the itinerary for the day, fill it with all his favorite things. After all, cheesy romantic stuff like this was right up his lane. 

He reserves a spot at the fanciest restaurant in the city, the one that has a months long waiting list. It sounds perfect, and the closer it gets to February 13th, the more excited you become. You say 13th because the 14th is a Sunday, and as much as you would love to get on your knees and praise Jungkook’s body until the wee hours of the next day, you have work. So Sunday is off the table. And it’s better this way, you tell yourself. Everywhere would have been packed that day anyway. 

It seems like everywhere you go, the entire world is gearing up for the holiday; from the fast food drive-thru to your favorite lingerie shop, there’s Valentine’s Day specials everywhere you look. Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air. 

But what good is a lovey-dovey holiday without your own lovey dove himself? 

One glance out your window and your knees feel weak, because there he is. Dressed in a loose satin button up, shoulders broad, chest defined. He’s got on these fitted dress pants that accentuate his tiny waist too, thick thighs bulging beneath the fabric. There’s a coat hugging his frame, something to shield him from the cold while he waits out on the curb, does this cute little shivering dance in an attempt to warm up his muscles. Your heart feels like it’ll explode at the sight, and you can practically hear the corny, overused romantic song playing in the background of your thoughts, so you hurriedly distract yourself by slipping tonight’s dress on. 

It’s cold outside, but the sight of Jungkook makes you feel warm and fuzzy everywhere. He’s so hot it makes you dizzy, and the sap knows it when he meets you on the sidewalk. Instinctively, his hand reaches out to tangle with yours, the other slipping around your waist. “Hi, gorgeous,” he greets playfully, kissing your knuckles. His hair has grown out a little, curls up cutely when he lets it air dry and tickles your skin when he gets too close. “Lookin’ like Secretary Kim.” 

“Oh? So does that make you my hot boss?” you tease as you make your way to the car. 

As always, he opens the door for you first, flashes you this dorky little wink as he rounds the front of the car. “If it means you’ll sleep with me tonight, then sure,” he says, buckling himself in. You roll your eyes at his claim. You don’t get to see the proud little smile on his face; by the time you’ve composed yourself, he’s already pulling off in the direction of the restaurant. 

It’s a classy thing, a restaurant and bar in some insanely tall skyscraper. Of course your seats are right beside one of the huge floor to ceiling windows, overlooking the beautiful, glittering cityscape. “Fancy,” you murmur as you sit down, catching a glimpse of the eye roll Jungkook gives you. 

“You say that about any place that serves wine,” he chuckles, reaching for the bottle on the table to pour you a glass. 

The wine tastes like perfection, aged for the perfect amount of time. Whatever that was. You don’t really know, but it tastes amazing! Still, amazement aside, you manage a scoff. “I didn’t say that about your house on our first date,” you huff anyway, throwing him a playful glare over the rim of your glass. 

Jungkook laughs, full and real this time. It’s a little too loud for the classy establishment you find yourselves in, drowns out the jazz music for a second. “That’s because it was a house,” he says, wearing that big, shiny smile you adore, “and we were watching Transformers.” An amazing date, the mere memory of it makes your toes curl. He had been so dreamy— nearly two years ago now! —and had retained that aura up to the present day. You don’t think you’ve ever been so in love with anyone or anything in this world before, as cheesy as it was to admit. 

As if sensing your sudden wandering thoughts, Jungkook nudges your ankle under the table. “Hey,” he says so softly you could melt; his voice was so silky and sweet. “Everything okay?” he asks. 

A sigh, chin in your palm. You had to have been abducted by aliens or something— there was no way this was your life, this disgustingly romantic date with this disgustingly handsome man. An episode of Black Mirror maybe? One where you get forced to live in a romantic Viki drama with the man you love, every single day for the rest of your life? Maybe. 

Dramatics aside, you could practically feel that sticky sweet, sentimental monster begging to crawl to the surface, unleash the entire Shakespearean collection of lovesick sonnets on your unsuspecting boyfriend in the middle of this restaurant. But the weird ones, were you accidentally dedicate an entire six lines to the bulge of Jungkook’s thighs in his workout pants or the heart-shaped mole on his shoulder. Those kind. Before that can happen, you settle on an equally as gentle, “I love you,” murmured for only him to hear. 

Across the table, Jungkook smiles. One of those thin ones when he’s trying to keep his composure but is actually quite flustered, his subtle bunny teeth nibbling at his lower lip. “Thanks,” he responds, still trying to play it cool, but then he almost knocks his glass down and you’re reminded just how perfect he was, flaws and all. “Me too.”

You jab the pointed tip of your stiletto against his shin. “Say it back,” you warn and he laughs. 

“I love you,” Jungkook says like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Straight out of a romantic drama, like the ones on Viki that require a minimum of four different story arcs just to get to this point. But with Jungkook, it takes a few shy smiles and maybe a kiss. It has a scorching heat rising on your cheeks, one you ward away with a hurried sip of your drink while Jungkook reaches for your hand, thumb rubbing over your promise ring as if for good luck. 

That singular phrase makes your world pause, its axis stalling while you deal with the overwhelmingly soft and gooey feelings in your chest. Oh jeez, you had to rock his world tonight. It was only right. He deserved it for making you feel like this— this silly and ditzy, like a middle schooler with her crush. 

Anyway the food gets to your table after a millennia. Jungkook orders some fancy lobster dish, one that you're pretty sure costs more than the purse you brought along tonight (to be fair, you’re a cheap buyer), and still has the audacity to poke around at your plate too. He eats enough to feed a schoolhouse full of children who’ve just come off recess, practically devouring the table cloth before you stop him. And then he doesn’t let you see the bill; “baby, don’t worry about that when you’re with me,” he purrs, warm breath fanning against the skin on your neck, drunk off pure love and strawberry lemonade because he was driving tonight. The hostess is a blushing mess, fumbling for his change as Jungkook practically gropes your ass in plain sight.

You swear he’s spending too much time on that Viki streaming service, because then, as if the romantic dinner date wasn’t enough, he whisks you off to an even more romantic walk along the river. 

If there was ever a world record for “Number of Times you can Make your Girlfriend Swoon,” you’re positive Jungkook had broken it in the span of a few hours. You feel so light-headed and in love by the time you reach the river. 

“You know,” you tell him as you walk, the serene sounds of the flowing water beside you the soundtrack to your date. Jungkook swings your joined hands between the two of you. It’s chilly but you’re so full and happy that you don’t let it bother you. “I was gonna throw wine at you when we first met.”

He cackles, that loud, airy sound again that he only lets you hear, with his head thrown back. “What?” he gasps, smiley and pretty, your pretty boy. “And why were you going to do that?”

You huff, feeling slightly embarrassed now to admit such a thing. But aside from Doyeon, no one else has ever heard this classified tale. And well, you’re feeling extra emotional tonight. An abundance of emotions in one night usually ended with you crying like a little bitch at some point or another, so you’re trying to push that off for later. “Because,” you sigh, squeezing his fingers, your lone promise ring versus his assortment of fashionable rings. “You sounded like an absolute fuck boy when you first texted me!” 

Jungkook scoffs, playfully scandalized. “Me?” he squawks, pausing to stand in front of you with wide eyes and a ridiculously huge smile, the kind that has his brows raised high, lips going thin, practically displaying every tooth in his mouth from how wide it is. 

“Jungkook,” you say calmly, shoving one finger against his chest. “You asked me to Netflix & chill for our first date.” 

He groans, using your entwined hands to pull you into his arms for a suffocating hug. “I already told you,” he laughs, patting the back of your head while you get in a few lighthearted punches against his sides. “I didn’t know what it meant.” 

“Whatever, you sleaze,” you say anyway, eventually melting into his hands. “Bet you tell all the girls that.” Jungkook makes another scandalized noise, but settles when you wrap your hands around him. He smells so good and familiar, comforting even. Like home and safety, a refuge for your heart. When you’re this close, you can hear the light beating of it beneath your ear, a steady rhythm that has you closing your eyes when he begins humming your favorite song. 

He gets about two verses in when your phone suddenly goes off. 

Everything in your body says to ignore it, to continue basking in the comfort of your boyfriend’s embrace and this absolutely perfect moment. But it’s the stupid ringtone you set for all your work peers when you first loaded the entire company contact list onto your phone, so the sound alone lets you know it’s a work-related call. And for work to be calling you on a weekend was definitely not a good sign. 

“Give me a sec,” you tell Jungkook, pulling away from his arms. He frowns but lets you go, staying close as you dig through your purse for the offending device. 

It’s Kim Seokjin calling at this peculiar hour, a fact that confuses the hell out of you. Jungkook’s bouncing on his heels in an attempt to fight off the chill, giving you his beautiful side profile as he glances down the winding sidewalk that follows the river, and then at his watch. His nose is a cute red color that you want to kiss so bad. But work calls, so you tighten up and let that dream go for now. You swipe your thumb across the screen. 

“Hello, Mr. Kim,” you greet, trying to keep the confusion out of your voice. “How can I help—“

“__, my love,” he beams through the phone, so fucking loud it has Jungkook glancing over curiously. You give him a tight-lipped smile, one he returns as he shuffles closer, trying to steal your warmth like a penguin. You let him snuggle close before turning back to the droning voice of your superior on the line. 

“Hello,” you repeat again, slowly. Jungkook takes your free hand in his; when he squeezes, the band of your promise ring digs into your skin just the slightest. “Was something the matter?” 

Seokjin laughs, loud and clear. There’s a lot of other noises filtering in through his line. Briefly, you remember that there had been some work-related party for the higher ups tonight so you write it off as that. “Does there need to be a problem for me to call you, love?” 

You falter. Beside you, Jungkook’s brows furrow together, his devilishly handsome features even more pronounced. He’s obviously heard the other man on the line. “Um,” you flounder for a second, “well, usually yes.” 

Without missing a beat, Seokjin carries on with a playful tut that you’re almost certain has him lifting the receiver up to his mouth, because it’s so goddamn loud it has you flinching away from your own device. “My __,” he says, sweet and… slurred? 

He’s never used this tone of voice on you, only on other women at the office. Something about his broken marriage and needing to heal a wound, you don’t fucking know. You can’t even begin to truly understand that logic, which is why you’ve always just ignored it. Still, in the last few months of knowing Seokjin, he has never made a pass at you. Until now, that is. And until now, you had kind of convinced yourself he saw you in a sisterly way. Which sure, was worse than being friendzoned. But this was your boss you were talking about. Whether you got sister-zoned or not by him was the least of your concerns. So what was going on? What had changed over the span of a few days that had him suddenly reaching out to you on a weekend? 

Beside you, Jungkook doesn’t look the slightest bit impressed, tongue prodding against his cheek as Seokjin rambles on the line. You wish you had lowered the volume before answering, but doing so now would appear suspicious, even you could admit that. “You’re amazing, you know that?” Seokjin praises. You nod, remember he can’t see you, and settle on a blunt thanks instead. Jin laughs. “You’re different from the rest,” he hums, voice soft and weirdly intimate. 

Jungkook’s frown deepens. “What does he want?” he murmurs, somehow managing to keep his voice calm as always. The deep furrow of his brows and the tongue-against-cheek motion he had done just a few seconds ago all indicate he’s annoyed, that much you can tell. 

You shrug, eyes wide as you hurry to get to the reason for the phone call. You’re almost certain it’s just Seokjin being drunk— many people drunkenly dial their friends and family to tell them how much they’re appreciated, this wasn’t anything weird! 

Is what you try to convince yourself, but then Seokjin’s voice is dropping an octave by your ear. “Did you get my gift?” he murmurs, voice nearly drowned out by the sounds of the event he’s at. 

“Huh?” you stammer, quite stupidly if you do say so yourself. Jungkook shifts closer, obviously trying to hear. A breeze ruffles his hair, his cologne wafting over you. “What?” 

A sigh over the line. “My gift, love,” Kim Seokjin says, loud and proud. Jungkook exhales, hard. “I had it sent to your house this evening. Something pretty for a pretty girl— don’t tell me the postman fucked that up,” he jokes and Jungkook huffs, practically breathing fire through his nose when he hears the words. 

You fidget. There had been no gift when Jungkook picked you up around sunset, not like you had expected anything to begin with. And aside from Jungkook and maybe your parents, there was no one else on this planet you wanted to receive a Valentine’s Day gift from anyway, especially not from your boss of all people. “Um,” you mumble, acutely aware of the way Jungkook’s face is nearly pressed to yours now in his effort to listen in on your phone call. “I— um, haven’t been home, Seokjin.”

Jungkook scoffs, spits out a particularly unimpressed, “Seokjin?” 

Said man doesn’t hear. “Oh, of course,” he says, almost sullenly. “I forgot you had that little boyfriend to entertain tonight.” 

It’s the breaking point for Jungkook, who leans back to glare at the phone with the heat of a thousand suns. You press it against your chest before he can hear anything else. “I’m sorry,” you rush out in a hurried whisper, eyes flickering over his face, trying to gauge the intensity of his emotions. “I think he’s drunk— he’s never said things to me like this before,” you stammer, feeling like you have to defend yourself for some reason. “I’ll- I’ll take care of it, okay?” No answer, just an aggravated shake of his head, like he’s trying to calm himself down. “Jungkook?” you say, can feel the panic begin to lace your voice when his eyes flutter shut. 

He calms your worries with a gentle head butt that has you gasping in surprise, one hard exhale fanning over you. “Okay,” he says, teeth clenched. “I’m gonna go sit.” And then he stiffly walks over to one of the many benches lining the pathway. He sits, just like he had said he would, and glares down at his hands instead. 

The sight makes you anxious, unsure of how to diffuse the situation because, like you’ve said many times before, dealing with emotions— especially someone else’s emotions —was hard. Your eyes refuse to leave his figure as you draw the phone back up to your ear again. “Hello?” you call, voice trembling when Jungkook finally looks your way. The soft look he had given you all night is nowhere to be found, replaced with this rather unreadable expression. Something between annoyance and confusion if you had to guess. You don’t know, and the fact you don’t know makes you panic. Your chest feels tight when Seokjin begins speaking again. 

“You know,” he says, “you’re quite something, __. Strong, confident. Beautiful.” Had you been anyone else, you might have been flattered by Kim Seokjin’s remarks, maybe would have swooned. He was, objectively speaking, a handsome man with a hefty bank account. 

But if that was the criteria for a man to make you swoon, then the man on the bench in front of you checked all the same boxes three times over. The man who’s brows draw closer and closer together the longer you linger on the phone. Jungkook’s foot does one agonizing tap against the concrete and you find yourself stammering into the phone. “I think you’re drunk, Jin.”

A scoff. “I am,” he agrees, and doesn't even bother to hide it. “But you remind me of her, you know that? I like that.”

It’s like he knows something is going on on the line, because Jungkook visibly bristles when you sidestep in surprise. What was going on, your brain screams. Having your superior compare you to his infidel wife was definitely not something you saw coming tonight. “Uh, okay?” you say, “listen, Seokjin— Mr. Kim, I’m... I have a boyfriend. And I really lov—“

He cuts you off. Jungkook bristles at the sudden stop of your sentence. “Yeah, yeah,” Seokjin drawls, and you can feel the sheer terror of accidentally jeopardizing your relationship with Jungkook step aside for the briefest moment to allow some annoyance to seep through. Annoyed with Seokjin and his audacity, his tone, his voice. “Mrs. Kim used to say that about me,” he chuckles humorlessly, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” A long pause. You’re unsure of how to respond. “It’s not real,” Seokjin says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world. “Love, that is.”

You clench your jaw, gathering your thoughts to respond when Seokjin beats you to it. “But you know what, love?” You don’t respond. Seokjin pushes on anyway. “Someone’s gonna cheat sooner or later— why not beat him to it?” 

Your body reacts first, a startled gasp inhaled through your lips at his disrespectful preposition. Your phone slips out of your grasp. It bounces twice, lands on the ledge that gives way to the river, and you almost kick it in when Jungkook comes up behind you. “Hey, hey,” he says sternly, tugging you away from the phone you almost killed. “What’s wrong— what did he say?”

You exhale, face warm from the discomfort sitting heavy in your chest. “Nothing,” you huff, mind slightly foggy as you try to process that awkward conversation. “It’s— it was stupid,” you spit, pressing the heels of your palms against your temples, the raging anger and confusion making your head pound now. 

You had always known Kim Seokjin wasn’t the most faithful man, that the infidelity ran both ways in his relationship. But you had never imagined he would ever compare you to her, his cheating wife, in an attempt to win you over. Furthermore, you’re downright disturbed by the fact he would even try to hit on you after all the mentoring he’d given you, all the polite smiles he’d flashed you, all the praise you had bestowed upon him to Jungkook. 

Jungkook, whose jaw twitches as his hands graze your forearms. When you look at him again, you feel an immense wave of remorse wash over you at the way his own irritation is clouded by his worry for you. He had been wronged as well— disrespected just like you —but here he was, pushing his own emotions aside for your sake. He doesn’t want to see you upset. He was so good at dealing with your emotions, knew just what to do when things became too much. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, lips pursed together. “I don’t know why— he’s never— I wouldn’t do that,” you settle on, voice wobbling when Jungkook’s jaw clenches. “Jungkook,” you frown, reaching for his hands, “I wouldn’t—“ 

He shushes you with another one of those gentle forehead bumps. “Calm down,” he says, voice deeper than usual. “I know you wouldn’t.” 

Weirdly, it feels like you’ve committed a grave sin against your boyfriend. A crime. “I’m sorry,” you blubber anyway, heart thundering in your chest. “That was horrible,” you huff, desperately blinking away the stinging sensation behind your eyes. “You didn’t deserve to hear that.”

“Don’t cry,” Jungkook says, so soft and comforting; stable. You want his composure, his ability to process and understand things so quickly— his maturity. Sure he had been put off by Seokjin, but he had processed it all so quickly; adapted to the situation and stepped in to save you. Meanwhile, you nearly committed cellular murder because you couldn’t handle yourself. “He’s a weirdo,” he says, for both your sakes. “You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart.” 

Still, you sniffle. “I’m sorry,” you say again, the heavy feeling in your chest lightening just a little bit when he pulls you into his arms. 

“Crybaby,” he teases softly, a kiss on the crown of your head. You pinch his side. “Second phone you broke in a year.”

The mood for the riverwalk is off after that, and you only walk a few more meters before Jungkook decides it’s enough. “We can still enjoy ourselves at home,” he reassures you, and the way he tries to salvage that soft, fuzzy feeling from before is admirable. So Jungkook takes you home, holds your hand the whole drive back to your place, like he knows you’re still fragile from that extremely uncomfortable interaction, need him to hold you together. Jungkook’s emotional stability guards you like a shield, covers you in a wave of comfort as you calm down. You tell him about Seokjin’s preposition and he bristles. “Prick,” he murmurs beneath his breath, grip tightening just the tiniest bit. Your ring pinches against your skin a little painfully, but you say nothing. 

There’s a box of flowers on your doorstep when you arrive, one that makes Jungkook pause at the sight. “Wonderful,” he drones, picking it up for you as you unlock the front door. It gets left on the coffee table, practically mocking the two of you as you remove your shoes and coats. “That’s your favorite flower,” Jungkook notes. 

You glance at the expensive bouquet. “It is.” 

Jungkook drops down onto your couch, eyes flickering to the meticulous arrangement in front of him. “You told him?” Not really. But back when you had thought Jungkook and you were engaged (read: last week), you had spent days looking at different floral shops that specialized in this flower, frequently leaving the tab open on your work computer. Seokjin must have seen it then. At your extended silence, Jungkook says, “nice.”

You frown, setting your heels on the shoe rack. “Baby, I didn’t,” you tell him softly, reaching for the zip on the back of your dress. It comes down, and after clearing your hips, it falls to the floor in a dark heap you pick up quickly. It leaves you scantily clad in a black lingerie set. Meanwhile, Jungkook drops his head back, glaring at your ceiling. Tentatively, you step over to him, toying with the fabric of your dress in your hands. “You said it was okay.”

“I know,” he sighs, an unexpected confession from him that makes you pause. Despite all you’ve been through, he still rarely highlighted situations that upset him. “It’s just,” he says, turning his head to look at your form again, eyes not drinking you in like you hoped he would. “It’s scary.”

The couch cushion dips beneath your weight when you settle beside him. “What is?”

Jungkook shrugs, avoiding your question by reaching for the TV remote on the coffee table, right beside the box of flowers Seokjin had sent. He opens up the Viki app in a flash— the one linked to his account —and has even loaded up the next episode of Secretary Kim when you question him again. “What’s scary, Jungkook?” you repeat. 

On screen, there’s a beautiful scene on a bridge, the two leads happily conversing. It’s serene, something neither you nor Jungkook feel at the moment. 

Eventually, he says, “you could leave.”

You pause. “What do you mean?” Leave? Where on earth would you leave to when this was your home? He doesn’t meet your gaze. 

Another scene passes by on screen, some cheesy line and an even cheesier promise. Jungkook’s foot taps against the floor, the sound dull against the plush rug beneath you. It’s a nervous tick you’ve only seen him do at the height of truly stressful situations. Weird because just half an hour before you had dubbed him as the epitome of calm and collected at the river. 

“I thought he was cool before.” 

He did. But the word ‘cool’ didn’t always have the same meaning for Jungkook as it did for you. 

In the past, Jungkook had frequently joked about having to meet Kim Seokjin and thank him for all the help he’s given you at work. After all, up until now, you had only ever had good things to say about the man, raving about his cool demeanor and respectable work ethics. Now, the memories paired with the conversation from earlier leave a bad taste in your mouth. 

You’re a little confused with Jungkook right now; part of you had convinced yourself that whatever happened on the phone earlier with Seokjin was put behind you, marked off as an anomaly in the evening. After all, Jungkook himself had said it was okay. Park Seojoon appears on screen, and you can’t help but glare at the character, residue emotions from the river pushed off onto this innocent actor. 

Still, Jungkook surprises you. “It’s just that—“ he sighs. And then, “what if you leave?” 

You blink, eyes trained on his side profile and the way he’s nervously chewing through his bottom lip until it tints a red shade, gives way to sensitive skin when he bites too hard. “Why would I leave?” 

He says nothing. On screen, Park Seojoon says something so cheesy and romantic that it would have otherwise made you cringe, made Jungkook soft. But he’s stiff as a board beside you instead. You almost think he’s going to disregard the entire conversation when he finally speaks again. “Well.” You perk up at the sound of his voice, overly aware of the way he’s started picking at the skin around his thumb again, another nasty habit you’ve been trying to help him get over. “He’s cool. Rich.”

“And so are you,” you offer, covering his hand with your own. 

Jungkook ignores you, releasing a long, shaky exhale. Somehow, he’s exuding a similar energy as before; discontentment mixed with understanding. Like he’s greatly conflicted but forcing himself to remain calm. Another trembling inhale, and then Jungkook quietly recites, “everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss.” 

You recoil just the slightest, brows pinched together at the absurd conclusion he’s drawn. “Baby, that was just a silly conversation,” you say slowly, slipping your hand into his. He squeezes so tight you’re afraid he’ll break your bones. “And we were joking—“

“I know!” he exclaims, enveloping your significantly smaller hand in both of his before bringing them up to his face, lips pressed against your knuckles. It’s not a kiss, more so a desperate need to feel you against him. Eyes wide, you can’t do anything but watch as that collected exterior slips away, revealing a whirlwind mess of emotions. It’s a rather unexpected show from Jungkook. “It was a joke. We were joking. But I’m—“ his jaw clenches. His voice is so tiny when he speaks again. “I get scared sometimes, __.” 

His emotional outburst renders you speechless, watching as he squeezes his eyes shut, jaw clenching, hands trembling. 

It’s a stark image change from the cool Jungkook that had comforted you at the river, had patted the back of your head when you had been so distraught. His chest heaves for air and you don’t know what to do; it’s always the other way around, him comforting you, that when it comes down to this you find yourself at a loss. It makes you feel like you don’t know enough about yourself or him or your relationship in general to help him, always so lost when things like this happen. 

Jungkook has never been good at expressing negative emotions, always preferring to bottle them up and only show you his very best side. Granted, he’s been getting better at letting go lately, has whispered his doubts to you in the dead of night after a particularly grueling project, an uncomfortable social meeting. But he always waits until you’re half asleep and in the dark to tell you how he feels, hushed worries that you barely remember the next morning. And by then, Jungkook’s moved on from them anyway, flashes you a pretty smile and purposefully guides you away from that conversation. You know he’s started keeping a journal recently, but aside from seeing the blanks pages when he’d first gotten, you don’t have a clue what happened afterwards. It’s probably hidden away somewhere, his feelings locked up in a cupboard or a box, the secrets it holds never to be spoken of aloud. 

He doesn’t like talking about his more personal problems, hoards them until you’re forced to intervene. Find him slumped over at his dining table with bags under his eyes, the skin on his lower lip bitten beyond belief. 

Rarely does he sit down and express himself like this, lays his heart out carefully for you to see. Had he not said so right now, you would have never known Jungkook struggled with such doubts about you and your relationship. 

(It makes your heart ache at the realization.) 

Jungkook always acts like everything is okay, always forces himself to hold it together for the sake of you and, quite frankly, everyone else. He’s there when Taehyung breaks up with his girlfriends, pats him on the back and lets him run through every video game he has on his PS5. He’s there for Namjoon when his thesis becomes too much, proofreads it even though he doesn’t understand a word just for the sake of giving his best friend another perspective. Hell, he had even been there for Doyeon when her new landlord had tried to overcharge her, had carried the bulk of your argument when you ran off to try and fight with the old man. 

(“He’s too nice sometimes,” she had murmured the next morning at her place. After the shouting match the night before, you had crashed with Doyeon on her new bed, your sweet boyfriend taking up her couch. Somehow, you and Jungkook had managed to knock a clean seventy-five bucks off her monthly bill. It wasn’t much, but for an apartment in the city it sure felt like a lot. 

You had hummed, patting the top of his head on the way to the kitchen. “He’s a good boy,” you had said, heart thrumming when he instinctively pushed closer to your hand, nuzzling into you even in his sleep. “He cares about everyone a lot. Worries to death about his friends.”

The state of their relationship was weird; they were always fighting about one thing or another, ‘eternal enemies’ as Doyeon liked to claim. 

But for the first time, she hadn’t denied they were, in fact, friends. Instead, she had quietly stood at the breakfast nook overlooking the living room with a somber look on her face that was completely unlike the Doyeon you knew. She didn’t respond with her usual backhanded compliments, didn’t even call him a gremlin either. 

“He even worries about you, Miss Wicked Witch of the West,” you had teased, reaching over to pull Jungkook’s shirt down where it had ridden up, exposing his cute belly button to the cold apartment. She had sipped at her mug of coffee, eyes foggy and distant. “It just takes him a while.” 

“He’s always cared about you though,” she had murmured then, and you had marked it off as her being half asleep. But Doyeon had given you this look, a look so profoundly wise, as if she was saying, “more than you’ll ever know.”) 

Most importantly, Jungkook is always there for you. He holds you in his arms, strokes your back comfortingly whenever something goes wrong. Listens to your concerns and offers you advice, learns new things for the sole purpose of helping you out. Lets you make stupid decisions and always saves you at the last minute. And you want to repay him for all that, want to look after Jungkook like he does for everyone else. But it’s hard, it’s so fucking hard, when he doesn’t let you in, when he holds his emotions at bay for the sake of protecting yours. When you don’t even know where to start sometimes. 

The beating of your heart is accompanied by a dramatic orchestral ensemble on screen, violins and flutes as the two lovers reconcile some issue with a kiss. Beside you, your own lover is one second away from falling apart. “Hey,” you say quietly, slipping your hand out of his to hesitantly place on his back instead. With your release, Jungkook uses his empty hands to drag over his face, hide himself from you. “I’m not going to leave you, Jungkook,” you try and comfort, “I love you.” 

He shakes his head, dark locks bouncing around. “I know, I know,” he sighs, but it doesn’t sound like he believes you. It sounds like he’s forcing himself into composure again, jaw flexing as he shakes his head. “But— what if—” another aggravated huff, his thighs jumping anxiously. “You’ll get bored.” Not a question, but a statement. 

“Of you?” you ask anyway. He nods. “I won’t.”

He sits up so suddenly you have to move away to avoid bumping into him. “You will,” he urges, finally looking at you, distress painted over every inch of his face. “That guy, that Seokjin, he sounds more interesting than me. He sounds cool and put together, like the world is his oyster and,” he rubs the heels of his hands against his eyes. “You talk about him sometimes and... and you call him a god, __,” he stresses, doesn’t leave room for you to object. “And I know you’re joking, but—“ a sharp inhale, and then, quietly, “everyone gets bored of me, __.” 

Your frown deepens. “But I won’t,” you argue, confident in your claim, shifting onto your knees beside him. Your dress is thrown over the armrest of the couch, and the draft in your apartment makes goosebumps rise on your bare flesh. “You’re not boring, Jungkook,” you tell him, voice softening when his features pinch up, nose wrinkling as he wards off the stinging behind his eyes. 

It’s teenage trauma. Jungkook had told you at least that much before, this crippling sense of loneliness and an inferiority complex that hindered him during an influential growth period of his life. It’s why he’s so quiet when he has so much to say, why he brings you along to every party he gets invited to; he’s never felt like he was enough by himself. 

Sometimes, it leaks into his confessions. “I don’t deserve you,” he says frequently, but some days you want to hot glue him to a chair and force him to listen to every reason why he does and always will deserve you or anyone for that matter. “You make me better,” he claims, but he does that all on his own, lights up the world with his smile alone. 

He’s gotten better, that much you’ve learned from Namjoon and Taehyung. And even you’ve noticed it on your own, watched as he animatedly talked with his friends and his coworkers, drew people naturally to him with his warm aura. 

Even still, there’s moments where he relapses. Moments like this. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs beside you, “I know I’m a handful—“

“You’re not,” you interrupt, cupping his soft cheek in your hand, turning him to face you. Jungkook leans into the touch, and your heart breaks in half when a tear escapes over his waterline, pretty eyes brimming with tears. “You’re not a handful, Jungkook,” you tell him, shuffling closer until you can press your forehead against his. The truth is, you don’t know how to comfort him, but this is how he’s always comforted you; it feels nice when he does it for you. “You’re just enough,” you say, voice soft because it feels like your precious boy is about to fall apart in your arms, his shallow breaths rivaling the volume of the television. “You’ve always been enough.” 

He sniffles, and another tear tickles the side of your thumb, catching the light. “I’m sorry,” he repeats anyway, a disbelieving chuckle tacked on at the end. 

“Don’t be,” you shush, pushing away a strand of hair when he leans closer. His frown is still prominent, pink lips red and soft under your thumb when you tap your finger against them. “You can tell me when things worry you, you know,” you inform him, heart swelling when his eyes fall shut and he leans into your touch. He’s so handsome, the cute little mole beneath his lip begging to be kissed. “I’ll always listen.”

Jungkook hums, breathing evening out. “I know you will,” he says. “But I like listening to your voice more, and I can’t do that when I’m talking.” 

You snort and Jungkook finally lets a tiny smile slip. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after your meltdown,” you mumble, kissing his cheek softly. 

Jungkook chuckles, real this time, and sniffles right afterwards. “I’ll flirt with you whenever I want.” And, because he’s just so full of surprises tonight, he sniffles once more before he’s unceremoniously tackling you back onto the couch. You squeal, the TV remote digging into your back painfully. It has the volume accidentally skyrocketing, startling the both of you with an ear-shattering orchestral piece at the height of some emotional scene. Jungkook scrambles to free the device and lower the volume before your eardrums burst. “I didn’t even know your TV could go that loud,” he says, and he’s speaking normally but the deafening violins are still reverberating in your head, making him sound quieter than he really is. 

“Come here,” you say instead, and he obeys, crawling into your arms, mouth hovering just over yours. “You feeling better?”

Jungkook nods, dark hair bouncing. “You make me better,” he tries, but after tonight’s realization, you respond to his corny words with a pinch against his doughy cheek instead. 

“Don’t say that,” you frown, toying with one of the earrings decorating his ear. The tip of his nose is flushed red, the exertion from crying catching up to him. His lashes are dark, probably feel so heavy with the residual tears that cling to them. 

Jungkook repositions himself, guides your legs around his waist. “Why not? It’s true.” He glances at your mouth. “You make my life better.”

“Wrong,” you say bluntly, brushing his hair back with your hands. “Your own perception and understanding of your experiences makes your life better. I just happen to be in it.” Jungkook looks the tiniest bit surprised at your suddenly logical argument. “Trust me, I saw it in a documentary the other day.” 

At that he laughs, full and loud, pecking your lips once with a sweet smile on his face. “Now I know you’re lying,” he grins, gently nudging his nose against yours. The drama on the TV is but a quiet hum compared to the pounding of your heart in your chest when he looks at you like that. “Because you don’t even like documentaries.” 

You kiss him softly, holding his hair back for him. He tastes a little bit like the chocolate cake he had at the restaurant and the lemonade he drank (he didn’t indulge in the sweet wine with you because he needed to drive). His lips mold perfectly against yours, and he sighs softly when he finally draws back. “But I like you,” you purr. 

Jungkook’s eyes darken, one heavy exhale fanning across the lower half of your face. You readjust the leg around his waist, pull him closer just the slightest bit. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after my meltdown,” he repeats, lips brushing against yours. You chuckle. “You don’t know what that means to me.” You can roughly guess, but that opportunity is taken away when Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, soft lips molding to yours. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, wastes no time slipping in when you open for him, hot and wet. 

Jungkook’s fingers are just as warm when he trails them up the back of your thigh, pulls you impossibly closer until the buckle on his belt is pressed flush against your mound. A tiny whimper escapes your lips, chest jumping just the slightest from the pressure. It makes Jungkook pull away with an easygoing grin, chocolate eyes half-lidded. “You okay?” he murmurs, breath a little shaky from the kiss. You nod, tangling your fingers behind his head and pulling him in close again. 

He evades your puckered lips, ducking down to press his own against your throat, right beneath your jaw. “Ugh,” you groan, digging your nails into his back through his satin shirt. “I wanted a kiss.”

Jungkook nips at your skin, this tiny gesture that couldn’t hurt even if he tried. “You always want a kiss,” he retorts softly, the quiet smack of his lips filling your ears as he bestows a series of smooches against your skin. And it’s so devastatingly tender how he handles you, like you’re made of glass and will break at a moment’s notice, like he wants to treasure your body for the rest of his—

Jungkook chomps down, hard, and you hiss. “Sit still,” he orders, soothing over the bite with one broad lick of his tongue. 

You whimper. “That hurt.” 

“And it’ll hurt even more if you keep moving,” he warns you, and before you can ask what that even means, he’s leaving another stinging bite just further down. It’s at the midway point of your neck, right in front, and you can feel your heartbeat in your throat when he sucks a painful mark over it. “There,” he says, mostly to himself. “All mine.”

Your legs tighten around him, and you fight down the wave of heat that threatens to consume you when he places one final kiss over the second mark— the hickey. 

Jungkook doesn’t usually leave them. In fact, you can rarely recall a time where he had purposefully gone out of his way to mark you up like this. It was always accidental, always unplanned, because he knew how troublesome it was for you to cover them up for work the next morning. Work, where your coworkers and your bosses and Seokjin could see. 

Brows pinched together, your brain begins to draw a connection, one that Jungkook is soon confirming himself. “Everyone will see that now,” he hums, kissing a trail down your neck. 

Of course. 

You pat the back of his head in amusement, hiding a smile against his soft locks. Before you can say anything more, maybe tease him for being so cute, there’s a hand on your hip that snaps you out of your scheming. Jungkook lifts his head, does that endearing little head shake that pushes his hair out of his eyes, before leaning in for another languid kiss. 

It’s even slower than the first, mostly because he’s a little too preoccupied with running his hands over your body now. It starts at your shoulder, teasingly snaps the strap of your bra as you push your tongue down his throat. Jungkook whimpers, that pretty sound that makes you desperate to hear more. It’s the same sound that he always makes when he wants to be pampered, wants you to kiss his entire body while he lays there and takes it. 

And you’re all too ready to act on it. 

Duty calls and you’re there to answer, tilting his head for him with your hands against his cheeks. He sighs against you, breath trembling as it tickles across your skin. That soft and tender way that makes you melt because he’s just so precious, so dreamy. 

But you’re too caught up in your plotting to remember the hand he’s got on your hip, the one that teases the waistband of your panties with one lone finger. It’s only when Jungkook pulls away from your inviting mouth, his other hand holding you down by your shoulder, that you’re snapped back into reality. His lips are swollen and red, slick from your tongue, and so tantalizingly kissable. He huffs out a breath, eyes flickering over your face. “Can I touch you,” he husks, and gives into the temptation to press a kiss against your jaw. 

“Yes, please,” you shiver, hypnotized by his hungry stare. 

Jungkook wastes no time, pressing another kiss against the bruising mark over your throat that dissolves into a series of lighter smooches he trails down between your breasts. His hands come up to cup your boobs over your bra, giving them one harsh squeeze that has you releasing a long exhale as he moves between the valley and down your tummy, over your belly button. “Open,” he says at your pubic bone, carefully guiding your legs apart until you’re spread wide for him. 

The dark panties you’re wearing tonight— the super expensive ones you had spent an hour measuring your body for the exact sizing —receive one light kiss over the front. “Always so pretty for me,” Jungkook murmurs, tracing one lone finger down the middle. Your stomach contracts when he nudges it against you, the soft material of your panties just barely pushed between your folds. 

As his hand occupies itself with some relatively light foreplay, Jungkook tasks himself with leaving another tingling mark against your skin. This time, it’s on the inside of your thigh. He starts it off slowly, a few littered kisses against the skin until he deems one spot worthy enough and abruptly sinks his teeth into you. “Not so hard,” you whimper, reaching down to bury your hands in his hair. 

Jungkook lets it go, sloppily licking over the area. “You like it hard,” he husks, meeting your gaze as he licks one, long stripe over the tender skin. “Don’t you?” You nod demurely, pressing your knuckles against your lips to hold back a tiny moan from slipping past your lips. 

With that new mark blooming over your skin, Jungkook transfers his attention to your pussy, hidden beneath the soft material of your panties. One finger hooks under the hem, tucking them aside until he can see you in your entirety. “Fuck,” he groans, pressing one light kiss over your clit that makes you inhale sharply, fingers digging into his scalp. Jungkook throws one final glance your way before letting his tongue slip past his lips, the very tip flicking against your clit. 

Your breathing becomes shallow, anticipation building in the pits of your stomach as he slowly but surely begins playing with you. His tongue is so warm and wet, nudges your throbbing clit, nose pressed against your mound. “Mmm,” he moans, eyes fluttering shut as his mouth works wonders. 

“Ah,” you gasp, whiny and high-pitched, when he dips one finger past your wet folds. The entry is seamless, his pointer finger sinking into the velvet walls of your cunt as his tongue swirls against your hardened bud. “Jungkook,” you mewl, knocking your heel against his shoulder. Jungkook huffs, suctions his lips around your clit. The cold metal of the rings he always wears— the duo set from that Chrome Hearts brand he likes so much —presses against the trembling lips of your pussy, makes your back arch when he twists his finger inside of you. 

He’s so precise with his tongue, knows just how long and how hard to lick against your pulsing clit until you’re trembling, thighs quivering. Briefly, he pulls away, flicks his hair to the side in one suave motion that lets you see his dark eyes when he glances back up at you again, covered in a thick sheen of lust that makes them appear almost black as opposed to his usual warm brown. His hands reach for the waistband of your panties, tug them off with one fluid pull. 

“So pretty for me,” he murmurs, the end of his words laced with a slight rasp that makes your hips jump. “All for me,” he says, roughly pushing his finger into you again. The harshness makes your entire body tighten up in surprise, eyes fluttering shut when he slips his middle finger alongside his pointer this time around. 

“Baby, wait,” you whimper, walls fluttering around the two digits. Jungkook leans back in, presses a chaste kiss against your clit that makes your breathing stall as he thrusts his fingers into you. 

He ignores your cries, locks his lips at the juncture where your thigh meets your body, sensitive skin that bruises all too easily when he sucks against it too hard. “Only for me,” he sighs, all pretenses discarded as he begins rapidly and roughly fucking his fingers into you. It’s intense, has your thighs quaking as he speeds them up. 

The coil in your stomach tightens, and you have to bite down on your knuckles to stop the litany of whimpers from slipping past your lips when Jungkook ducks down again. He bypasses your quivering clit, warm tongue licking at the warm, wet folds around his fingers instead. The proximity makes the tip of his round nose brush along the length of your cunt, a sight and sensation that makes you moan, his bangs harshly tugged away from his forehead to give you the perfect view. 

It’s with a particularly hard shove and twist combination of his fingers into your clenching walls that you cum, a gasp caught in your throat as your hips push toward him, chasing the feeling Jungkook bestows upon you. Your breathing is a mess, inhales too short, your exhales inconsistent, as Jungkook slows the speed of his fingers inside of you, lets your cum ooze out around them, coat his fingers and his rings. 

“No,” you cry, watching that look come over his face when he withdraws his hand, the look that usually follows him sucking your cum into his mouth. “Jungkook, you don’t have to do that—” you whine, reaching for his wrist and yanking it towards you. 

Jungkook follows, crawls back up beside you as he chases his own sticky fingers. “It’s mine,” he urges, has this weird look in his eyes you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. And just as quickly as it crosses his features, he’s lurching forward to catch his own fingers in his mouth. It’s lewd, the way his tongue wraps around them, leaves them sleek under the TV glow, tattoos and rings glistening. He has the audacity to moan, eyes fluttering shut as his devious tongue slips down between his fingers, so long and precise. There’s a tiny noise that tears itself from your throat, one that has him flickering his clouded gaze up to you as his fingers are released from between his own lips. “You like that,” he murmurs, wet fingers trailing down your cheek, capturing your chin to turn your face his way completely. 

His tongue is sinful as it slips past your lips again, the tangy taste of yourself clinging to him. His breathing feels hot, suffocating. But his kisses are so good, make your mind go blank. So blank, that the fingers that rub at your clit surprise you completely. “Kook,” you gasp, breaking away from him in surprise. 

Jungkook doesn’t let you get far, capturing your mouth with his again. The two fingers you had felt on your chin are gone, firmly pressed against your swollen clit, experimentally rubbing against it. Never mind the fact you were still sensitive from your first orgasm, thighs quivering when he drags them against the wet, soft skin. It makes you shudder, breaking away from him a second time for a desperately needed inhale of fresh air. Jungkook follows behind closely, pressing kisses over your jawline, your chin, as his fingers continue moving against your clit.

He has them pressed together, rubbing at the front of your slit where that bundle of nerves is hidden. It makes your stomach contract, hips jerking forward into the touch in an effort to match him, to speed up the process. “You were made for me, pretty girl,” Jungkook huffs against your cheek, nose pressed against your skin because he’s just so close, practically molded into your side as his fingers send rhythmic shocks of ecstasy up your spine.

Your mouth drops open, stuttered gasps filtering through your lips as Jungkook takes advantage of your sensitive body to draw out another orgasm. But there’s a weird sensation that builds in your stomach this time, one that brings with it a sense of panic. “Wait—“ you gasp, fisting the silky material of his shirt beneath one clenched fist. “Jungkook,” you warn, toes curling.

He responds with a harsh nip against your lower lip that makes you whimper. “Go ahead,” he purrs, rubbing his fingers over you at an insane speed, one that has your juices sloppily spread over your pussy, makes you buck into him and moan against his mouth. 

The feeling grows, an intense, unfamiliar thing that you rarely recall ever feeling before, gasping for air as Jungkook’s fingers caress your clit, pressing down hard. “Fffuck, fuck,” you sob, mouth opening in a silent scream, eyes rolling backwards as you feel your pussy lips contract harder than ever before, thighs quivering as your juices squirt out of you, lower body reduced to jello as Jungkook quickens his movements, wrists jerking back and forth as your pleasure sprays out of you. “Ju— Jungkook,” you wail, forcefully slamming your thighs shut when he doesn’t stop, the pleasure seemingly never-ending under such a torturous touch. “Stop—stop,” you beg, eyes filling with tears that spill over when his trapped hand manages one final rough rub against your clit accompanied by a final gush of wetness. 

Only then does he stop, leaning back on his knees to drink you in with dark eyes that make you quiver. There’s no trace of his usual post-orgasm cockiness, the smile he’ll flash you, the teasing jabs. Nothing, just a frankly terrifying gaze that has you self-consciously pressing your hands over your chest. 

Jungkook doesn’t take kindly to it, roughly snatching one of your wrists up until you’re sitting up, the traces of your own orgasm present in the damp couch cushions beneath you, inner thighs coated in a thin sheen of your own pleasure. Jungkook leans in close, nose bumping against yours. “You came like that for me,” he says quietly, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. You nod, eyes wide and teary when he reaches for the front of his shirt, giving it the same treatment he usually gives yours; two hands at the front, yanking it apart until the buttons are torn from their stitches and bouncing across your floor. 

He throws it off to the side, his tan skin highlighted by the cool tones of the television, the dark sleeve of his tattoo especially prominent. The black ink almost looks blue under this light. You’re so distracted by the perfect swirls and doodles on Jungkook’s skin that you don’t realize that same hand is reaching for you until it’s too late, long fingers wrapping around your throat to jerk you forward, head tipping back to look up at him. “Say it, sweet girl,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded. “Tell me you’re mine.”

The fingers around your throat squeeze once and then slowly begin tightening. You gasp, meeting his hooded gaze with yours, lips quivering for a response that’s stuck in your throat, trapped by your own surprise and tightening airways. Frantically, you reach for his wrists with both hands, not to pull Jungkook’s hand away, but to ground yourself from the hazy cloud of lust the moment evokes. 

Still, your body isn’t as strong as you thought, and once Jungkook reaches a certain tightness around your throat you find yourself coughing. Instantly, he loosens his grip. But not too much. “I- I’m yours,” you rasp out, gasping for air. 

For now, it satisfies Jungkook enough for him to release you. And while you’re grateful for the rush of fresh air that fills your lungs, the phantom ghost of his grip around your throat sends a new gush of wetness between your thighs. One that grows tenfold when Jungkook reaches for his belt, undoes it easily. It comes off with one fluid motion, carelessly shucked off to the side as his attention moves to the front of his pants instead. 

He doesn’t let you sit around uselessly. “On your knees,” he says, so quietly you almost don’t hear it. “Sit on your knees facing the table.”

You blink slowly, the dry tears on your cheeks leaving stiff trails against your makeup. It takes a moment for your brain to process his request, one long second that has Jungkook pausing in his movements, leveling you with one solemn glare that eventually has you springing into action. You hastily slip off the couch, shuffling toward the coffee table between it and the television. The rug is soft beneath your knees, a luxury you can’t enjoy to the fullest because there’s a ball of excitement and fear stuck in your throat. (Right beneath your bruised skin and recuperating windpipes.) Sitting back on your calves, it feels like every nerve is standing stiff as you await his instructions. 

“Bra off,” Jungkook says from behind you, and you’re startled by the sudden ripping of stitches behind you, almost turning to look at him. He stops you with one hand around the back of your neck, drawing a surprised gasp from you. “Sit still,” he commands, your back stiff straight, eyes focused on the screen. After a beat, Jungkook lets you go, pats the back of your head gingerly. “Good girl.”

A whimper catches in your throat at the praise, and you barely manage to bite down on it in time, hurriedly reaching behind you. Your hands fidget over the clasps on your bra, and you nearly jump out of your skin when one lone finger traces down your spine, undoing your bra for you. You don’t know why, but you say, “thank you.”

The television changes scenes in front of you, the bright colors a stark contrast to the darkness of Jungkook’s eyes. Your hands tremble in front of you, fingers anxiously tangling with each other. A few inches beside you, there’s a dark red box filled with the flowers from—

Suddenly, your vision goes dark, hands instinctively reaching up to your eyes. The pads of your fingers come in contact with a soft material, smooth and silky. Just like— “Is this… ?” you murmur, hands sliding across the makeshift blindfold Jungkook’s made for you, the same texture as his shirt had been. 

He doesn’t grace you with an answer, just a hand against your hip as he, presumably, settles behind you. “Does it matter?” Jungkook says instead, voice all too close to your ear. Your entire body locks up, hands quickly returning to their spot against the coffee table. 

Just as you’d suspected, Jungkook is all too close now, hands crawling over your body. They start at your waist, massage the skin tenderly, lovingly, before gliding up to cup your breasts. You shiver, a quiet exhale escaping you as Jungkook rubs his palms over your boobs, trapping your stiff nipples between his fingers. A sound threatens to escape you, and you trap it behind a bitten lip, fists clenched against the table before you. “You know,” Jungkook says conversationally, like he’s not pinching your nipples enough to make you squirm. “Who else do you think can make you come like this?”

You brain lags. “W- What?” you stutter, thighs pressing together to ward away the arousal. Not like they’re already sticky from before, from when Jungkook had made you squirt. 

Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat, pressing a kiss against your shoulder that he trails up to your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. “Who else,” he says slowly, “can make you come like this?”

It’s not a trick question— no one could. You tell Jungkook as much. “I— no one,” you answer, rolling your lips in when he kisses the tender spot beneath your ear again. 

His kisses feel loud, but not as loud as his voice when he says, “exactly.” You swallow, gripping at the edge of the coffee table when he releases your boobs, trails one hand between your thighs, the other around your throat to pull you backwards against his chest. It makes your hands flail, landing against the tops of his thick thighs. 

Jungkook holds you close, fingers tightening around your throat teasingly. “No one else can please you like you want,” he exhales, letting his fingers trail over your skin. “Not the guy on tv, not your exes, not the fucking loser at your job,” he hisses, lips against your ear. “No one,” he reiterates, voice softer now as he presses a kiss against you. “No one but me.”

And it’s true. 

You can’t even muster your usual mouthy, bratty attitude when Jungkook serves you cold hard facts like this. Not when you can feel his aching member press against the small of your back, rest perfectly in the slight dip between your ass cheeks. “Isn’t that right, sweet girl?” he murmurs, voice low. 

You nod, tummy tightening when he uses the hand between your thighs to spread them apart. “Only you,” you agree, voice feathery.

Jungkook hides a grin against your skin, a mean chuckle escaping him when he rests his forehead against your shoulder. “Fuck,” he says, releasing your throat. “Such a good girl,” he praises, hands on your hips again. He uses them to encourage you up onto your knees, hips bumping into the edge of the table as he shuffles you forward. “Bend,” he says quietly, palm flat on the center of your back, pushing you down until your belly button is pressed against the cold wood, boobs swinging forward just the slightest. “Perfect.”

Jungkook shuffles up behind you, soothes a hand over your hip when you flinch at the first press of his cock against your folds. “You’re okay,” he comforts, voice like honey as he lines himself up. Your folds are slippery and wet, loose from your arousal and the two orgasms he’s already given you. 

Despite all that, the first push of his engorged cock past the tight muscles makes you gasp. “Baby, that’s,” you moan, nails scratching against the coffee table to make a sound that you would otherwise find uncomfortable. “I—“

Jungkook pants behind you, cock sinking further and further in. “I’ve got you,” he husks. His voice is like the light at the end of the tunnel, your dark vision forcing you to rely on him entirely as he guides you through the motions. “Made for me,” he repeats, voice airy.

You nod jerkily, arms trembling as his cock plunges deeper inside of you. “Made for you,” you gasp, head falling forward, forehead pressed against the cold surface in front of you. 

He moans, and there’s one deafening moment of silence when he finally reaches the hilt, soft pubic hairs at the base of his cock brushing against your folds. It’s a familiar sensation, having him buried inside of you, but it’s always different when he’s doing it from behind. He always feels fuller, bigger, mushroom tip practically kissing your cervix. 

“Kook,” you whimper, walls unintentionally contracting around him when he lingers a second too long. “Move.”

“Fuck, fuck,” he curses behind you. “I know, it’s just—“ he pauses, squeezes your hip so hard, you’re certain it’ll bruise. “I wanna… y’know,” he groans, dropping his head against your back, warm breath fanning across your slightly sweaty skin. 

It makes something in your stomach click into place, shifting back just the slightest. The small drag around your lips makes you brave. “Then do it,” you urge, desperate for any sort of friction. 

Jungkook practically growls, bucking into you once. “No,” he says, like he’s battling with himself, faced with a mental hurdle he can only cross alone. “You don’t understand,” he sneers, suddenly snapping back into position behind you, pulling you flush against his pelvis once more. It makes you whimper. 

“I kinda do—“

“You don’t,” Jungkook hisses, forcefully thrusting his hips into you enough to make your hips knock painfully against the edge of the coffee table, a startled moan falling from between your lips. And from there, it’s like you’ve unleashed a beast, because Jungkook shows you no mercy as he begins fucking you, his fat cock slipping in and out of you, his angry head flirting with your entrance. “I wanna fucking breed you,” he sneers, fingers digging into the skin around your waist to hold you still as he bucks his hips forward.

His vulgarity makes your skin heat up, the warmth probably tangible over your sloppily made blindfold, eyes wide despite the fabric that covers them. “That—” you gasp, thighs trembling with each powerful thrust. 

“It’s too much, I fucking know,” he huffs dryly, releasing one hip to press against your shoulders, roughly shoving you forward until your breasts are pressed against the surface, arms bent up beside you to stop yourself from hitting your head. “But— But,” he shudders, suddenly stopping his thrusts to grind his cock against you instead, pussy lips quivering around his girthy member. “I wanna,” he pants, “wanna see you so fucking full of me, because— you’re mine, __,” he seethes, “right?”

You nod blindly, dumbly, brain too flooded with the stimulation he’s bestowing upon you to think properly. “I- I am,” you confirm, gasping for air. “And you’re mine,” you manage to get out, one hand slapping down against the coffee table when he draws his cock out, slams himself back into you quickly. 

“I’m yours,” Jungkook slurs behind you, slowly picking up his pace again. The hand on your back lets go, and it’s with trembling arms that you manage to push yourself back onto your forearms, one hand blindly reaching for the hand he’s got gripping at your hips. 

“Oh my god,” you whimper, the sounds coming from your connected bodies so lewd and obscene, disgustingly wet when Jungkook slips back inside. He surges forward again, and you try to catch your balance, knees quivering underneath the force of his thrusts. Your hand slides over the tabletop in a feeble effort to hold onto something, anything. You can’t see, and even if you could there’s not much to hold onto on a flat surface. 

Except the box your hand knocks into. Your confusion lasts for only about a second because then Jungkook is ramming his cock into you, over and over, until you’re certain your hips are going to bruise and your knees are going to give out. Jungkook’s moans are soft and feathery, sighs that fan over your shoulder and make your back arch, eyes rolling backwards for the briefest second as if you were possessed. 

“Mine,” he whimpers, desperate and needy, fingernails digging into your skin as he pushes on. “Gonna be mine forever,” he growls. “Gonna— Gonna be so pretty and big,” he moans, “tits so fucking full.” The image he puts in your mind makes you dizzy. 

You nod dumbly, knuckles bumping against the box a second time. “Jungkook,” you choke out, fingers blindly nudging the box aside. But there’s no strength behind it, your entire body feeling weak and useless, all the energy concentrated in the coil in your stomach, the one that grows and tightens with every entrance of Jungkook’s cock into your pulsing walls. “There’s— There’s something,” you gasp, pinky finger tapping against it.

Behind you, Jungkook stills, harsh breaths deafeningly loud. Louder than the television and the corny music that plays, the mindless chatter of the characters you couldn’t name even if you tried. “Why would you...” Jungkook huffs, irritation lacing his words.

You don’t get to question it, because a second later his finger is tucking itself beneath your blindfold, yanking it off carelessly. It makes your head crane backwards, a tiny yelp torn from your lips as the blinding glow of the TV attacks your poor eyes at full force. Jungkook’s long since stopped his rapid thrusts, and it’s only when you glance off to the side that you realize why. 

It’s the stupid box of flowers Seokjin had sent you, the one Jungkook had placed on the coffee table when you first got home. 

Behind you, Jungkook releases one long exhale, both of you looking at the arrangement with various degrees of discomfort. “Did you like them,” he murmurs, cock throbbing inside of you. 

You shake your head, a soft, “no,” falling from your lips. The muscles in your thighs quiver like mad. 

Jungkook says nothing, but you watch as one inked arm stretches out from behind you, the movement of his hips pushing his cock deeper into you. A tiny whimper catches in your throat, watching as Jungkook hooks a finger over the lip of the box. One swift tug has it gliding over the tabletop, coming to a stop right beside your forearm. Jungkook leans back, the silence terrifying. 

“Did you think they were pretty?” he asks, tracing one finger down your spine. Your lower lip trembles as your eyes scan over the bouquet, at the pretty color selection and lovely scent that joined together to overwhelm your senses. 

“No,” you say, but it feels like a lie.

And Jungkook thinks so too, wrapping one hand around your throat and pulling you back forcefully. It’s the same as he did earlier, but with his cock deep inside your pussy, it sends a shock throughout your entire nervous system, a sob tearing itself from within you as he unintentionally pushes himself deeper inside. “Did you,” he says a second time, practically seething, “think Seokjin’s flowers were pretty?”

Your eyes flicker nervously across the screen in front of you, but everything is a blur, Jungkook’s harsh breathing against your ear. “Yes,” you confess, whimpering when his fingers tighten around your throat, press down against your windpipe as he inhales sharply. “But they’re just flow—“ He squeezes your throat so hard, your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, mind growing fuzzy. Eventually, he lets go and you dissolve into a fit of coughs, bent over the coffee table again as Jungkook slips his stiff cock out from within you. “I’m sorry,” you sniffle, throwing a teary-eyed look over your shoulder.

What you’re not expecting is for Jungkook to grab that same shoulder and roughly push you onto your side away from the coffee table, falling onto the fluffy rug as he shoves you down. “Something pretty for a pretty girl,” he sneers, biting down a frankly maniacal grin.

“What?” you exhale, probably looking at him with the same maniacal look in your eyes. 

(You were made for each other, so crazy and in love.)

Jungkook stretches one toned arm out, and you flinch when he uses that same beautiful arm to send the box of flowers flying over the edge of the coffee table, a hard thwack resounding throughout the room when they land face down on the other side, petals against the floor, water dripping out from inside. 

With those out of the way, Jungkook wastes no time flipping you over, face shoved down against the soft rug as he angles your hips up. “Thinking about someone else when I’m right here,” he growls, ramming his cock back into you with no warning. You sob, clawing at nothing as he bucks forward. “What a mean girl,” Jungkook scolds. 

“I- I wasn’t,” you defend weakly, shivering as he snaps his hips against you, the rug irritating your cheek when the motion sends you forward. Jungkook uses the hands on your hips to pull you back, your skin clapping together loudly. 

“You think Seokjin would— would fuck you like this?” he spits, using you like a toy as he fucks basically for himself, cock sliding in and out of your squelching walls. “You think he’d push you down and—and call you a stupid girl?” 

You shake your head, eyes squeezed shut to fight the wave of tears threatening your waterline. Truthfully, it doesn’t make much of a difference, especially not when Jungkook yanks your hips back again, your entrance sensitive from all the friction. “No, no,” you sob. ”He wouldn't.”

Jungkook scoffs, not bothering to slow his pace down. “Of course he wouldn’t,” he spits, and then, strikes your ass. Two hard cracks of his palm, rings and all, against the globes of your ass. You wail, unconsciously jerking away only for Jungkook to drag you back. “Stupid girl,” Jungkook sighs, cock twitching inside of you. You can feel the beads of precum oozing out from the tip of his cock inside you, their warmth making you shudder. 

Your other ass cheek receives the same treatment, two harsh smacks that leave the skin tingling, blood rising to the surface. “Stupid, stupid girl,” he repeats, palms rubbing over your cheeks for a brief second, only to strike down again. “Aren’t you?” You nod, fat tears dripping out of the corner of your eyes and down onto the fluffy rug beneath you. Your behind stings, pain blossoming over your skin. But it’s the good kind, the one that has drool escaping from the corner of your lips from how overwhelmed it leaves you. 

“I- I’m a stupid girl,” you agree, your words punctuated by a series of tiny sobs and sniffles. Your walls feel sensitive, raw, from his thrusts. You’re ready to come, trembling hands slithering down to reach for your clit. 

“Don’t,” Jungkook warns, snatching your arm up and twisting it behind you. 

You cry, tears and drool against the rug. “I wanna come,” you whimper, trying your other hand only for it to meet a similar demise. “Please,” you sniffle, turning your face the other way as if the angle will somehow be different. 

“You don’t come until I say so,” Jungkook hisses, using his grip on your wrists to tug you onto his cock. You moan, choke on your own saliva from the force, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix for real this time. It renders you stupid, just like Jungkook had called you, chin trembling as your eyes roll backwards. Behind you, Jungkook grunts something deep and raspy. “Fffuck,” he spits, pistoning his hips into your inviting heat. “You were doing so good tonight—“ a particular brutal buck of his hips, a loud moan torn from your lips “—but first those fucking flowers and now this?”

The rhythm of his deep thrusts cut your moans into stuttered little cries, your words broken with every ram of his cock inside of you. Your walls feel worn, every brush sending a tingling shock up your spine. “I- I’m sorry,” you weep, shoulders shaking from your own tears and the rumbling orgasm that’s just about ready to snap. 

Jungkook says nothing, too busy shoving his cock inside of you to grace you with a response. Instead, you’re subjected to his relentless thrusts, sharp gasps from his pretty mouth. “Fuck,” he pants, releasing your wrists after one particular thrusts, your walls clenching around him painfully when he draws his cock out. 

“I can’t,” you sniffle, knees giving out before he can catch you, sadly sinking down onto the plush rug. “Kook, I—”

Jungkook makes a sound, something between a growl and a roar in the back of his throat as he follows behind you, planting two firm hands on the sides of your head to use as leverage to fuck himself in. With your thighs pressed flat together, the squeeze is tighter than ever before, and your eyes roll backwards as he gets to work, walls fluttering from the overstimulation. 

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he pants, all games thrown aside as he begins pounding his cock past your folds, deep into your contracting walls, until that tight spring in your stomach gives out and you’re clenching up beneath him, entire body going stiff for one long beat. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you weep, thighs quivering as you cream his cock, make his movements so slippery and wet, almost dangerous when he’s going this fast. His name falls from your trembling lips, every nickname and pet name you’ve ever given him mindlessly blubbered through your orgasm. Jungkook pays you no mind, thighs tensing up as he chases his high, short breaths and moans filling the space as he fucks himself into you. Until, finally, a few deep strokes later, he’s coming with a shuddered cry of your name on his tongue, collapsing over you, forehead pressed to your back as he catches his breath. 

“Fuck,” he groans one last time, body going slack very quickly. He slumps down beside you, softening cock slipping out of your tender folds. 

The floor between the coffee table and the couch is dark, the television glow not reaching down here. Even still, the sweat clinging to Jungkook makes him look like a sparkly Twilight vampire, the dip between his pecs collecting the smallest pool of sweat. You can’t stop yourself from running your pointer finger along the skin, over his nipple. His pec jumps deliciously under the attention. “Stop,” Jungkook sighs, catching your wrist in his, pressing his lips to your knuckles in an attempt to distract you. “Or I’ll really get you pregnant next time.”

You push yourself onto your elbows, pinching his doughy cheek. “You won’t,” you tease. Jungkook flicks his hair away from his eyes to level you with a look you’ve never seen before, not a trace of his usual post-sex playfulness to be found. It has you retracting your hand, eyes wide when he doesn’t stand down. Still, you can’t lose. “...No you won’t,” you repeat, quieter, almost unsure. Almost a question. 

Jungkook rolls his eyes, tugging you into his arms. He’s all sweaty and sticky, just like you. He’s lucky he doesn’t have four separate loads of cum— three from you, one from him —sticking between his thighs. “Keep telling yourself that,” he pants, so smoothly. Too smoothly. It makes you clench your thighs, something Jungkook doesn’t miss. “Stop it,” he warns a second time.

“You’re just so dreamy,” you whine, sitting back up to play with his hand. “Like, when you made me squirt?” He chuckles softly, eyes fluttering shut. “Not gonna lie, I thought I saw the answer to the universe for a second.” 

He’s worn out today, more than usual, that he doesn’t bother gracing you with a response. But it had been a long day for Jungkook; from planning an entire date, to the Seokjin debacle, to the crazy hot sex he’d gifted you. It was only reasonable. You reward his efforts with a soft peck against his cheek that makes him smile, a light blush painting his cheeks. “You did good today,” you hum, patting chest comfortingly. 

“Felt like I was in a Viki drama,” he confesses after a moment, has that tiny smile on his face that makes the apples of his cheeks especially round, especially cute. “The kind that have twelve plot lines going on.”

You laugh, snuggling beside him. The rug feels dirty, but so do you so the feeling is cancelled out or whatever. “You’d be the Park Seojoon of any Viki drama,” you tell him, and Jungkook laughs.

That loud and airy one he reserves only for you. 

epilogue

Namjoon calls Jungkook’s phone a little after eleven, talking your ear off about some date he’d gone on while Jungkook is in the shower. You tell him about what happened with Seokjin and like all respectable college mentors, he just about flips. “You can sue him,” Namjoon hisses, furious for you. Not that you aren’t anymore, but in a weird act of impulsiveness, Jungkook had gone outside and ran the stupid box of flowers over with his car as you watched from the open window of your apartment. It was weirdly cathartic. 

He’s in the shower now, humming the lyrics to one of the songs from Secretary Kim, a song called It’s You by Jeong Sewoon (thank you, Shazam), that makes every inch of your body overflow with adoration when he hits that long note. Anyway, you’re perusing the rest of the streaming service for a movie to watch. Jungkook said you couldn’t watch Train to Busan tonight, something about it ruining the mood. So now you’re debating between a historical romcom or a modern romcom. 

Over the line, Namjoon is doing all the raging for you. “Men are trash,” he huffs one last time, before eventually letting it go. (For now.) “Hey, do you know how to cover up hickeys?” he asks suddenly, just as Jungkook reappears in the living room. His skin is glowing, looking like the hottest man alive. The window is still open, a feeble attempt to air out the smell of sex in the room, and the draft makes Jungkook shiver because his hair is still a little wet. 

“Hickeys?” you repeat, stretching a hand out for him as he rounds the couch. Jungkook takes it, places a soft smooch against your knuckles, close to your promise ring. Your heartbeat stutters just as Namjoon hums. 

“Yeah, this girl,” he says, cutting himself off with a laugh. One you recognize all too well because it’s the same one you let out when you talk about Jungkook to other people. Said boy settles close beside you, leans his cheek against your head when you snuggle into his neck. As soon as he’s there, you lose all rights to the remote, watching as Jungkook completely disregards all your searching just to click back onto Secretary Kim. He had missed a whole episode. “We went a little crazy tonight—“ you gag at the image Namjoon places in your head “—and Doyeon bites kinda hard—“

“Doyeon?” you interrupt, all mental processes coming to an abrupt halt as the name bounces around your mind. Jungkook, having mastered the art of listening in on your phone calls by now, freezes beside you. “You know a Doyeon?” 

“Yeah!” Namjoon says excitedly as you sit up. Jungkook meets your gaze, big Bambi eyes giving the performance of a lifetime, and gives your this overly innocent shrug of his shoulders that tells you more about what he does know than what he doesn’t. “Kim Doyeon. She went to your school— actually, she graduated with you and Kook.”

The world comes to a complete stop as you glare at Jungkook, his panicked features cueing you in to the fact he was aware of this, as you’d suspected. “Namjoon,” you say slowly, fist tightening around Jungkook’s phone. “Are you aware you’re fucking my best friend?” 

There’s a long silence on the other end, Namjoon presumably processing the information while Jungkook tries to calm the boiling anger within you. “He didn’t know,” Jungkook whispers, big pretty eyes on you as he tries to save Namjoon from you. 

All his efforts are in vain when Namjoon clears his throat and so eloquently says, “and you’re fucking my best friend?”

epi-epilogue

The Best Buy employee doesn’t ask questions when you and Jungkook go in to get your cracked phone screens repaired. He does, however, give Jungkook an over-exuberant sales pitch on a brand new line of computer monitors that are almost as big as the television at your house. 

You try to save him from the dangerous hands of capitalism, but the Hello Kitty bandaids decorating your neck are itchy, the skin still so tender, so sometimes it’s wiser to let him waste his money than argue otherwise. 

“Good girl,” Jungkook says as he swings your arms back and forth on your walk to the car, impressed by the fact you didn’t argue with him in a Best Buy today. “My perceptions and understanding of you in my life make me happy,” he beams, too smiley as he unlocks the doors. 

“Shut up,” you glare, painfully tearing the stupid bandaids off your neck as soon as you get in, brandishing the blossoming hickeys Jungkook had so graciously given you last night. At the sight, he bites down a smile. “You’re about to perceive and understand these fists.” 

And Jungkook smiles— he always smiles —as he leans over the center console to press his mouth against the darkened skin at the front of your neck, mindlessly rubbing his thumb over your promise ring. “Perceive this love,” he says, so cheesy it makes you gag. 

“Goddd,” you groan, pushing him away before he can see the smile on your face. “Someone get this man a Viki deal.”

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[wrenqueenisboss]

DSMP Angsty Imagines - React to Your Death pt. 3 --- c!Wilbur Soot

Part 3 to my series of “dsmp boys react to your death”:  Pronouns used: they/them (if mentioned) Warnings: explosions, spoilers for the events of Dream SMP, death, grief Words: 1.3+

The list: c!George c!Bench Trio c!Wilbur - (you are currently on this post)  c!Dream c!Technoblade - (coming soon!)

You had tried convincing your boyfriend not to blow up L’Manburg. But Wilbur Soot wouldn’t listen to you. He wouldn’t listen to anyone. Not in this state.

It had been a long time coming, honestly. Everyone should have noticed the signs. You should have noticed the signs, but it wasn’t as if you were actively looking for a reason to paint your lover as an insane psychopath. 

For months, Wilbur had slowly been descending into insanity. Looking back, the tells were all there. Very irregular sleeping patterns; sleeping not at all and then way too much, days when it seemed as if his emotions had been completely turned off, days when his temper seemed too volatile, the times when you’d catch him obsessing over books explaining the mechanics of tnt. It had all been laid in front of you, but you were too blind. 

That’s the thing about love, children. You either find yourself forced into relationships that make you unhappy or find yourself so in love with someone that it practically erases reality and judgment. There are a few lucky people. A few who find the loves of their lives and spend the remainder of their days in perfect happiness. No intoxicating amounts of infatuation, no feelings of emotional claustrophobia. You were not one of those lucky people. Not at all.

It was already too late to turn back by now. The two of you were already heading to the Button Room. Tommy, Tubbo, and Quackity were supposed to be with you, but they didn’t agree with Wilbur’s plan, so they stayed behind.

The three had been desperately trying to convince Wilbur to step down, to destroy the button and give up on his wild fantasies of watching his unfinished symphony burn to the ground. But that hadn’t worked, So they turned to you.

And as much as you agreed with their reluctance - and disagreed with your boyfriend, you had to support him. For that’s what he did with you. When you had been a newcomer to the server and no one would help you, he did. At the very least you owed him that. But you were beginning to doubt how far your support would actually go when you found yourself standing in the button room.

You and Wilbur looked up at all of the signs on the walls, each singing L’Manburg’s National Anthem in your head.

I heard there was a special place where men could go and emancipate the brutality and tyranny of their rulers Well, this place is real you needn’t fret with Wilbur-

“You’ve been so good to me, Y/n.” Wilbur’s unusually quiet voice interrupted the anthem playing in your mind.

“I’m your partner, Will. I’m also your friend. It’s my job.” For some reason, you could bring yourself to say it was because you loved him. Your heart knew it was because you didn’t love him anymore. Actually, that wasn’t entirely true. It was a different type of love now. Much less blinding, and much more clear.

Wilbur reached up a faintly-scarred hand to touch one of the signs on the walls. “You’ve stuck by me and supported me even when no one else did.”

You could feel your face begin to heat up. “Will, about that.... Are you sure you want to do this? Are you sure this is the right thing to do?”

Your boyfriend whirled around at that. And for some reason, your mind began to sing the National Anthem once more.

My L’Manburg My L’Manburg

“Don’t flake out on me now, Y/n. We’re so incredibly close. We’ve come this far together. You can’t possibly be thinking of abandoning me?” His eyes narrowed dangerously, sending ominous shivers down your spine.

My L’Manburg My L’Manburg

“No! Of course not! I just think it would... make sense if you... thought about this some more,” you stammered, desperately fumbling for the right words.

Wilbur stepped toward you suddenly and you flinched backwards. He didn’t seem to notice - or care. “Y/n, if you don’t support me in this plan, I have no choice but to kill you. You know too much. And yes, I do remember that you’re on your last life. That changes nothing.”

Your thoughts froze, so did you. Never, did you expect him to go this far. Sure, you’d been aware of the fact that he was slowly becoming insane for weeks, but threatening your life? That was something you could never prepare yourself for.

You were trapped. Either way, you were pretty sure you’d die. If you agreed, the explosions would kill you. If you didn’t, Wilbur would. 

For freedom and for liberty our nation sought to build on these a victory for all under our freedom

“I’m going through with the plan, Will. We’re going through with it.”

Well the darkness came and then it went we built a home and watched it sink and from the rubble emerged my great-

Once again, the anthem in your head was interrupted. This time by Philza. Philza Minecraft. Your boyfriend’s father.

Your heart raced as it realized how close to pressing the button Will had been only heartbeats before. Philza and Wilbur were having a whole debate in the background. It was only when your name was called that you snapped out of your trance.

“Y/n?” Will asked softly, placing a hand on your shoulder.

Your head snapped up. “Yes?”

You almost shut down at the sad acceptance in Wilbur’s eyes. Had it worked? Had Phil really talked him out of pressing the button and triggering the tnt?

“Phil here has convinced me that maybe the button isn’t worth pressing.”

Hope sprung in your chest. It spread its wings.

My L’Manburg My L’Manburg My L’Manburg My L’Manburg

Your boyfriend leaned down to hug you, head resting on your shoulder as his back faced Phil. You were just about to hug him back when his whispered voice reached your ears, making you shiver.

“It’s all up to you now, Y/n.”

He straightened and left the Button Room, but not before giving you a pointed glance. 

With bloodied hands and weakened knees.

Your body felt frozen, pinned by impossible choices. By the future and the past.

“Y/n?” Philza’s concerned voice carried across the cave. “Are you okay?”

You scrambled for a convincing enough excuse. “Y-yeah. I just need a moment. Today has been... rough.” None of that was a lie.

With a slight furrow of his brows, Phil nodded. He began walking away.

Our people rose like the phoenix

You stopped him, though. “Philza.”

He turned around.

Our empty fields and canals ‘round L’Mantree

“There was a saying, Phil, by a traitor, once a part of L’Manburg.”

Phil didn’t know how to react. He just nodded, clearly uncomfortable with the atmosphere, the tension.

With sweat and tears we armed our ranks we laid foundations in our land

“Have you ever heard of Eret?”

Once again, Philza only nodded.

You could feel your body heat up with anticipation. The moment was nearing.

And from every lips for here up to infinity

“Yeah, he had a saying, Phil.” You felt your fingertips ghost the surface of the button.

We sing L’Manburg We sing L’Manburg We sing L’Manburg We sing L’Manburg

“It was never meant to be.”

~-~-~-~-~-~-

Wilbur Soot was too busy smiling at the series of explosions going off behind him to realize the fact that you were dead.

And even when those around him cried as they mourned your death, not a single tear streaked down his cheek. No pang of sadness or remorse was felt by this man who had strayed too far down the path of insanity.

Perhaps once, he would have torn up the world looking for a way to revive you. But that Wilbur was long gone. That Wilbur was the one you’d fallen for, the one you’d follow to the ends of the server.

But you’d failed to realize that the Wilbur of today was not the Wilbur you loved. And that mistake turned out to be fatal.

[tainted-wine]

Primal Dissonance

Hawks x Reader (NSFW)

So anon was like:

And since I’m total ass at writing short drabbles, or maybe it’s because they called me senpai, I ended up with a whole-ass fic. This took a different route than planned but I hope you enjoy, anon!

Words: 4.3k

Warnings: Dubcon, Pheromones, Mindbreak, Feral Hawks, Rough and Public Sex, Tit Abuse. This totally isn’t as dark as it sounds.

--------x--------

Hawks has been getting noisy. Not in the usual sense; he’s always a motormouth. No, he’s been making sounds that you’ve never heard him make.

At first you thought he was sick and something was irritating his throat, but on one occasion when you offered him water after hearing the sound, he almost looked offended. You concluded that it wasn’t an illness.

You later noticed that the noise often happens when it’s just the two of you together. During late night movie viewings at his place, he’d hold you close and release a constant hum, the vibrations from his chest and wings soothing enough to make you drift into sleep in his arms. You never saw the look of disappointment in his face as he decided to cuddle you for the rest of the night.

Just a few days later, he spots you during one of his patrols and presents you with a surprise expensive gift. A ruby pendant, the same brilliant shade as his feathers, was placed around your neck by gentle gloved hands.

“Hawks—why—what did I do to deserve this?” You asked while your eyes reflected the gemstone’s sparkles.

“Just wanted to give a pretty gift to my pretty girl.” He gave you a kiss, and waves of soft hums leave his mouth and into yours, flowing through your body, stimulating all of your nerves and triggering pleasant shivers. One makeout session later, and you both pull back to lock eyes. He’s looking at you expectantly, but you don’t even know what the hell he’s expecting.

You look to the side awkwardly. “Thank you, Hawks. It’s beautiful, but I…don’t have anything to give in return. This was a complete surprise, after all.”

His eye twitches, but he smiles and embraces you. “That’s fine, chickadee.”

A pigeon appears during your hug, and the soft coos emanating from it give you an epiphany.

“A pigeon! That’s what it is! You’re cooing like a pigeon!”

This time it’s his smile that twitches. Did you say something wrong? Whatever it is, he brushes it off with a half-hearted laugh. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

That was also the day you noticed his rising body temperature. You asked once again if he was feeling ill, and at least this time he didn’t appear to be upset when he answered ‘no.’

On the next night you spent in his home, he—and you’re still not over this—took your hand and pulled you in for a dance. It wasn’t some silly jig in which he blindly moved to a random pop song, it was a slow classic love song, and he moved both of you in an elegant dance fitting for a ballroom.

It was the last thing you expected from the hero that normally took you on KFC dates or, if he had the time, reserve a spot at his favorite yakitori place. But there was no way you could say that you didn’t like the way his feet glided across the floor, wings acting as a living cape that made each of his movements look all the more graceful, and you followed his pace as best as you could.

You clung onto him more tightly than intended when he dipped you after a spin, sharp avian eyes boring into you before he buries his face in your neck, and that’s when you feel more than hear the cooing return. It’s a tune that never fails to make you feel so warm and safe; you have no idea how his gentle sounds have such influence over you.

He looks pleased by your relaxed state, pulling you back up and brushing a few stray hairs out of your face. “So?”

You smiled and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “I didn’t know you had such grace, Hawks. Now hurry up, or we’re going to miss the movie for tonight!”

You scampered off into the kitchen to prepare the popcorn, completely oblivious to the baffled look your boyfriend was giving behind your back.

A few days later and you’re more certain than ever that he’s coming down with something, because now there’s a constant sheen of sweat all over his skin, and his breath sounded labored even when he was just sitting around. Since he ignores all of your pleas to stay home for just a day or two, you come up with another solution. Hawks pouts like a child when you tell him that a little nature and clean air might restore his health, but he still accepts your offer for a date at a nature park because hey, spending a day in natural beauty with you sounds great.

You practically dragged him into a bus after telling him several times that he shouldn’t tire himself out prematurely by flying both of you there. One long scenic drive later, you both arrive at your beautiful destination. The park was huge and lush with flora of all kinds, from tree-filled paths to endless flower fields.

Exploring everything this paradise has to offer with Hawks sounds like a dream, but your main goal was to loosen him up and help him feel better, so you avoided the populated areas, passing the cycling roads, the play areas, the bug houses, all of the charming attractions until you reached the long stretches of vibrant colors. The flower park.

You and Hawks began a slow stroll hand-in-hand, taking in the seemingly endless blooms, the trees shedding petals onto the walkway—all of it served as the most delicious treat for your eyes.

But when you looked at the winged hero to see if he was enjoying the scenery as much as you were, you saw that he was staring at you. His face was slightly flushed, but you couldn’t tell if it was the result of his feverish temperature or if he’s finding this whole date very romantic.

“The flowers are over there, birdbrain,” you joked with a squeeze of his hand.

His wing wrapped around you and pulled you in closer, encasing you in his abnormal heat. “The only flower that matters is right here.” There was a rough breathlessness to his voice that made the otherwise corny line sound sensual.

And then the coos returned, bringing you back to that pleasant world where everything was warm, soft, and safe. The red feathers surrounding you quivered and rippled like ocean waves of scarlet. You were supposed to be making him feel at ease here, not the other way around.

A chorus of chirps snapped you out of your stupor. You broke out of the hypnotic embrace and spot a bunch of small bouncing figures in the white lilac tree in front of you. “Aww, look at all of the little tits, Hawks!” You point at the flock of singing critters.

Hawks snorted immaturely.

Before you could withdraw your arm, one of the Japanese tits flew over and perched on your still-extended finger, leaving you bug-eyed and your mouth agape. “Hi there! You’re a brave little guy, aren’t you?” You said softly, hoping not to startle it. It tweeted in response, fluffing up its black and white plumage as it looked up at you curiously. “Hawks! It’s so cute!”

Red wings bristled, but you were too enamored with the friendly bird on your hand to even look back at your boyfriend. It continued to sing, the tits sitting in the tree joining in to create an adorable medley of chirps, tweets, and peeps. “Such a nice sound, I never realized how amazing these little guys are.” You keep watching the beady eyes that stare right back at you, feeling the bird’s little feet move quickly as it adjusted itself to get more comfortable.

And with a powerful slug from a hardened red feather out of nowhere, the tiny tit is knocked off of your finger and sent flying like a fucking golf ball.

Your pointing hand was still out as you looked on, eyes and mouth now wide open in horror instead of awe. The poor bird managed to right itself before it hit the ground, flapping frantically to ride the light breeze and fly past its tree of brethren and off into the distance, its sloppy turns and sudden drops betraying how dazed it was.  

With your short-lived friend out of your sight, you turned to the man that ruined your magical bonding session, multiple negative emotions boiling inside you and ready to spill right onto this bastard. “Hawks!” You’re prepared to blow his ears off with every ounce of frustration, every concern that’s been plaguing you for the past week thanks to the strange changes that he refuses to talk about, but then you freeze.

The man’s face has darkened, eyes narrowed with its pupils shrunken into beady slits, lips pressed together in a tight frown—he looked enraged. But the terrifying look wasn’t directed at you, he was looking up at the innocent tits still residing in the tree and paying no mind to the violent treatment of one of their own. As his wings slowly spread with feathers sharpened, your chest constricted once you realized what was about to happen.

“Stop!” You threw yourself at him, grabbing at the outstretched limbs in a pitiful attempt to stop them, the bladed edges cutting your hands. It was still enough to shock and prevent him from launching any of the deadly weapons at the birds. You felt his feathers return to their soft fluffy state as he stumbled from your weight. “What the hell are you doing? What, are you pissed that it chose my hand instead of yours? The hell is wrong with you?”

Now he was aiming the glare at you, and you couldn’t help but shrink under the intimidation. His voice was shockingly low. “Just what game are you playing at here? Gushing over another bird’s song right in front of me?”

You eyed his still-expanded wings as you tried to make sense of what he said. “What?” Was all you could say.

“Here I was thinking you just had extremely high standards, but maybe you’re the type that likes to play hard to get, or make your guy jealous and see how he handles it.” He took a step toward you, and you took one back. “Well let me tell you, I’m not handling it very well.”

What he was implying would have made you burst into laughter if he didn’t look so threatening right now. “You’re…jealous? Of the bird that was on my finger?”

He laughed, or at least tried to, but the shortness of breath made him cough. The sudden anger must be worsening whatever has been making him hot and throaty for the past days. He needs to calm down for his own damn sake. “I guess I shouldn’t be, should I? Not for a girl who gets wet over any bird that does something as simple as approach her.”

“Excuse me?” Did you hear that correctly? No joke, did you really hear that shit correctly?

Hawks just keeps on going, taking your bewilderment as more mockery. “I give you something shiny, you don’t say anything.” A flash of several feathers and you feel your arms being pulled in front of you, the red tufts tying your wrist together.

“I put on a nice dance I practiced for, and you don’t say anything. Did you even notice that I cleaned and decorated the room that night?” You’re panicking from your tied hands and don’t see him fire another barrage that goes for your ankles, their tugs forcing you to lose your balance and fall hard onto the ground with a pained cry. Your hands are forcefully pinned above your head. “Hell, you seem to enjoy my song every time you hear it, so what’s the deal?”

While your heart is on the verge of exploding from its anxious beats, the gears in your head are spinning as you try to figure out how exactly this whole miscommunication even happened, but they keep jamming, filling your head with sparks and smoke of pure confusion. “What song? You haven’t been singing anything!” You yell as you fight against the feather-made cuffs around your hands and feet, but there was no breaking free. They suddenly felt as strong and durable as elastic metal.

Hurt flashes across his face and you don’t understand why goddammit, but it’s quickly masked with another scowl. “You mean the song that’s lulled you to sleep? The song that never fails to put you at ease every time? I can sense it, you know. How calm and pleased you feel whenever you hear it. I know it’s not the loud obnoxious tune of a songbird,” he glances at the tree that continues to emanate various calls as he kneels over you, nearly straddling your waist. Smart of him to keep his groin out of the range of your knees. “But you still enjoy it, right? I’m not too upset that you compared it to a shitty pigeon.”

You only stutter in shaky breaths as he lowers himself and presses all of his weight onto you, your eyes shut as he nuzzles your face lovingly. He feels like a furnace, the sweat from his face slathering onto yours from his rough rubs.

That’s when you smell something potent. You’ve picked up traces of it from him throughout the week, a strange but not unpleasant mixture of salt and sweet. You assumed it to be some sort of shampoo or cologne, but now it’s hitting you full force and it’s making your body…respond. With each inhale, the exotic scent sends a tingle down your abdomen and a release of wetness that dampens your clothing. What the hell is happening to you?

Hawks pulls away and sniffs the air. Your feminine aroma has him moan so suggestively that it makes your core heat up even more. “Oh, so this is getting you going?” He questions in a judgmental tone before something appears to cross his mind, and he laughs with a slap to his forehead. “I’m such an idiot. I’ve been doing this all wrong, haven’t I? You’re not a bird.” He kisses at the side of your face and licks the shell of your ear before whispering, “You’re a mammal. You don’t choose a mate by their pretty gifts or fancy dances.”

The lustful haze invading your mind almost distracts you from whatever is tugging at your pants and pulling them down. “H-Hawks…” You accidentally moaned. You were too out of it to even properly convey your worry. Your pants are removed and something tickles your hips to remove your panties next—that’s when you identify them as more feathers.

“With mammals, males just take what they want. They catch her, hold her down, and fuck her on the spot.”

You gasp when your lower body is completely stripped and exposed—a mistake—Hawks’s intoxicating smell rushes into your mouth and nostrils, making you clench and gush. He lifts himself just enough for the living binds around your wrists to pull and drag you off of the stone walkway and into the blooming batches. The flowers were just tall enough to probably hide you from anyone at a distance, but the winged man crawling over and sitting in front of your feet would easily give you away. “Hawks, someone…might see us,” you mutter.

He only chuckles. “Good, I want them to see. Are you little bastards watching?” He looks up at the lilac tree that now looms right over both of you. The resting tits have gone quiet, most likely intimidated by the large bird-human hybrid that continued to glare at them.

The response was ridiculous enough to temporarily free you from your trance. “I’m not worried about the birds, you dumbass.”

“Hmph, of course you’re not. You’d let them all join in if I’d let you, wouldn’t you?”

You have so many questions about how that would even work.

But you’re interrupted by the feathers around your ankles pulling your feet apart, easily overcoming your resistance and spreading you wide open for the hero in front of you. You have to look away from just how soaked you are, juices flowing from your swollen pussy and onto the soft soil, some of it sticking to your parted thighs in strands. The sight makes Hawks salivate.

“I’m at the peak of my rut and I’m tired of waiting. Gonna make you mine.”

It’s all he says before his entire mouth is on your cunt, tearing a startled cry from your throat. The peaceful sounds of the wind and rustling leaves are overshadowed by the absolutely filthy slurps, sucks, and growls between your legs. He was being a greedy savage that simply wanted to drink you up. There were no careful methods or patterns, just a hungry tongue that lapped at every inch of you and lips that sucked on anything they could grip.

You could barely even writhe from the onslaught, what with your arms pinned over your head and your feet held down so strongly that you couldn’t even move them across the dirt. You kept your sights on the rich colors of various flowers that encircled you as the sweet-smelling haze enveloped you again, enhancing your pleasure. Despite Hawks’ sudden loss of his oral skills, the feral nature of it all—the smothered snarls against your sex, the startling feel of his teeth carelessly grazing your sensitive flesh, and the lewd sight of his face covered in your glistening juices as his glassy eyes opened and stared into yours as he ate you alive—his voracity had you boiling over.

He gulped your essence loudly, welcoming every drop of the orgasmic flood into his mouth. All of the colors in your vision blurred more with each mind-numbing pulse. You weren’t even aware of the shameless wails that left you until the blissful waves finally subsided.

Once he had his fill, he finally pulled away from your mound and boy did he look like a hot mess. His cheeks were a deep red that was slowly spreading across his cum-covered face, a beady string of your fluids hanging from his lips before dripping off. He was climbing back over you and when the fuck did he take his pants off? He must have unbuttoned and removed them while he was licking you into heaven.

He still manages to look smug while he takes in your spent form, your slightly parted lips impossible to resist. Your mouth was suddenly locked with his, the breath you were desperately trying to get back stolen from you. And then the scent returns, this time accompanied with a powerful salted lemon flavor that assaults your taste buds. The taste of your own pussy was insignificant; his aroma in both your nose and mouth is nearly suffocating, your still-recovering inner walls already squeezing out more of your slick.

His tongue thrashes about in your mouth to paint his sweet saliva on every spot he could reach. You swallow it up thirstily and feel an immediate response in your throat that somewhat frightens you. Numbness overtakes your mouth and your throat relaxes completely; you felt like it was suddenly impossible to choke.

Hawks messily pulls away, breathing heavily and licking his lips. “Look at you. All it takes is a whiff and taste of a rutting male to turn you into a submissive little bitch.” You’ve never heard him speak like that, but like every action he’s taken since you’ve been at his mercy, it doesn’t fail to arouse you for reasons you still don’t understand. “Do you want some more? Hmm?”

You’re nodding before your crippled mind can comprehend the question.

The drugged kiss has you dizzy. You’re doing your best to keep track of his movements as he straddles your chest, his cock coming into focus and pressing against your lips. He doesn’t give you a command, you simply open up like a trained whore.

You’re moaning from the addicting taste of his length that pushes all the way to the back of your throat. Once his pubes are flush against your nose, your eyes roll back and you lose all sense of…everything. Everything except for that exhilarant fragrance and flavor.

Even as he begins to move in your mouth, your tongue swirls all around the sweet meat in an attempt to taste him all over. You’re throbbing wildly, but the feathers prevent you from bringing your thighs together for some much needed friction.

He was thrusting in and out at a pace that should have you gagging, but you take the pounding smoothly. Everything was murky, save for the pleasure that was slowly consuming you. You think the birds are singing again, maybe.

Something was smacking against your chin…rather loudly, you think. Hawks’s balls. How obscene, the way he’s hunched over you and fucking your face so roughly, but it’s hard to feel embarrassed when it’s all making you feel so damn good. Drool gathers and drips down your mouth. Your throat has become a second pussy, and he was fucking it like one.

The scent has your entire body on fire and you wish so badly that you could touch yourself. It was too powerful, each breath filling you with more burning tension. Your desperate whines came out as bubbly gurgles around his hammering dick. Your climax is dangling right at the edge. All you need is just the smallest touch on your drenched, deprived pussy.

His thick intrusion suddenly leaves your mouth, allowing oxygen to properly enter your lungs and for the pooling saliva to be swallowed. Hawks says something as you cough and sputter, but everything is still too muffled.

“Good……….not yet……….finish inside.” That was all that you were able to catch. You frankly don’t care. You immediately want his overpowering scent back.

When something pushes past the entrance between your legs, you cum instantly. Your scream is silent, or maybe you just can’t hear it, as your restrained limbs twitch like mad from the excruciatingly pleasurable contractions.

You’re already being fucked roughly while you’re still coming down from your orgasmic high. You’re rocked against the flowers and the soft earth beneath, your peaceful surroundings a stark contrast to the raunchy act currently taking place among them.

Hawks leans in once again, and you have to turn away and hold your breath because you truly felt like one more whiff of that mouth-watering smell would bring you the most euphoric death. His mouth drew closer to your ear, harsh pants in sync with his rapid thrusts. There’s no way a body was meant to handle so much stimulation, yet you didn’t want it to end.

You wanted this powerful man and everything that he had. You want him to fill your womb with his seed…bear his strong and healthy offspring…then let him take you all over again…

There’s a soft rumble that brings you back down to earth, clearing your mind just enough so that all of your senses work properly again. The smudged colors return to their original shapes, and the cooing that vibrates through both of your bodies can be heard loud and clear. His song.

“That’s it, baby. I’ve got you right here. Just give in to me.” Hawks sounds on the verge of losing his voice, weak and graveled, but his singing and hips aren’t letting up.

Finally, fucking finally, the feathers release your limbs. Ignoring how boneless they feel, you use all of your strength to wrap your arms tightly around his neck, and your legs lock right above his ass. You cling onto him like a parasite and moan freely, trusting his low and soft vocals to keep you grounded as his citrus aura captivates you again.

Your involuntary clenches ruin him and take him to his peak, several more hard and deep pumps bringing you to your final climax. Both of you cry out loudly enough to scare away the tits still resting in the tree, the small flock flying off to find a quieter perch.

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

Good. That showed the little bastards.

Hawks smiled triumphantly as the small birds fled the erotic scene. Once he was certain that none of them were coming back, he returned his attention to you. Your chest heaved with each audible breath, your entire body drenched in sweat, just like his. He laid a gentle hand on your cheek, thumb stroking lovingly as you close your eyes for much-needed rest after almost losing your mind.

He did it. He finally claimed you, and all he had to do was just show a little dominance…and expose you to a hefty dose of pheromones. It was clearly way more than you could handle—maybe the face-fucking wasn’t the best idea, but it looked like you were enjoying yourself enough. No harm done.

“Excuse me, sir?”

Hawks was a cool-headed man. He’s managed to stay calm and collected in the direst of situations. Still, when he slowly turns around to see a man dressed in the park’s staff uniform, blushing at the sight of a sweaty couple with no pants on among the innocent blossoms, he can’t help but feel just a wee bit fucked.

“H-Hawks? It’s really you? Wha-?” The poor guy is lost for words from the fact that he just found the number 2 hero banging someone in public.

Eh, he’s talked his way out of tighter spots.

With a smile, the winged hero sends a few feathers to his discarded pants and withdraws a pen from its pockets.

“How about a deal, buddy? An autograph from yours truly and a coupon for my merch. All you gotta do is walk away and forget what you just saw.”

[dustedmagazine]

2022: Patrick Masterson

Photos by Patrick Masterson

I.

We filter in slowly. Given Sleeping Village is a stroll down the block, it’s inevitable I’m on the early side, but the place is already humming with anticipation by the time I walk in. I order a beer and head to an open booth tucked away in back, where I’m greeted one after the other by guys I call friends and co-workers, an agreeable mix of dudes from two generations. We do some bridge-building as they appear, figure out a couple of us have been to the same shows over the decades and not realized it, y’know, the usual time-killing.

As if this table weren’t proof enough, I look up at one point and note who’s loitering around the bar area: Though a modest youthfulish contingent exists, tonight’s a veritable Post-Punk Dads’ Prom, which in March of 2022 indicates one of two things — and since Wet Leg already came through at the beginning of the month, it could only mean we’re here to see Yard Act play the final date of their first U.S. tour.

Evidently, nothing unites Former Cool Guys on a drizzly night out like a little “angular” guitar and a chatty Loiner with a chip on his shoulder. In a year that would turn out to be studded with top-tier post-punk throwbacks, Yard Act are already ahead of the pack at this point with The Overload’s January release. Coming off a string of Rough Trade-endorsed singles, an EP and a full-length establishing James Smith’s wry, politically minded verbosity over the complementary supporting trio of Ryan Needham’s bass, Jay Russell’s drums and Sam Shjipstone’s guitar, the band is confident rolling into their final stateside set. Just a few days before, they’d played Fallon and announced their arrival to whatever audience still cares about late night TV. I have no idea who that is because I haven’t had cable since 2008 and can’t think of anyone else who does, either, but all the same, it’s sold out.

It comes out in varying degrees depending on the song, but the major takeaway from a live Yard Act set is just how fucking funny they are — more so even than on record. Bands that have decent between-song banter are pretty rare in my experience, usually limited to mumbled thanks or obfuscated in-jokes. Not these guys: Arriving to the stage juiced on whatever the rider offered backstage and clearly fixing to close this tour out in a blaze of minor glory, Smith’s amicable observational prodding immediately endears him to the crowd. Between riffs on deep dish, American candy and overly long, underexplained stories from the road, the band kills, rifling through a grab bag of choons from their limited discography. They’re tight when the music’s going and loose when it’s not. The natural rapport between Needham and Smith is evident as the former keeps the latter — ever more glassy-eyed and garrulous as the set carries on — in check. Years put in with the likes of lesser NME fodder like Post War Glamour Girls and Menace Beach make plain this is not their first rodeo. They can handle us — and do, playing everything everyone wants to hear at just the right levels of volume and sneering, smirking aggression. It’s a thing of beauty. No one leaves unhappy.

I walk home thinking I might’ve just seen my favorite show of the year — and were it not for Yves Tumor the very next night, I’d be correct. I have some spring in my step now, too, and not just on account of the season: I’m about to embark on a massive project at work that got dumped on me the month before and I’m dreading it, but that aside, my personal life slowly feels like it’s crystallizing and I’m having a great week, a great month, fuck, I’m having a great year. How many people can say that in 2022? How many people are riding this kind of high right now? How many people can look up at the sky and feel like the stars are aligned, each one exactly in its right place burning back at them?

It’s hard to be cautious when everything feels like it’s slowly making the sense you always thought was there, but I keep trying to talk myself down from the ledge of this good mood anyway. Still: How real it feels, how unyielding the truth of it seems.

II.

It’s not that I wouldn’t have believed you without seeing it for myself, but there’s something both viscerally funny and viscerally stupid witnessing with your own eyes how we really did fuck it up: Iceland is green and Greenland is ice. That’s what’s running in and out of my head on the second leg of a return journey from Helsinki, where I’ve just been for an extended early August weekend because I’m an idiot who’s wholly incapable of taking a nice, normal, relaxing vacation somewhere with beaches and 500-page books you can read in two nights and big meals wearing bad shirts with bogus floral prints. No, my idea of a good time is winging it in a country where I don’t speak a lick of the language — don’t even pretend to understand how declensions work there, frankly — and all the words on the signs are too long and I don’t like seafood so I’m probably never going to be a good fit for the place even though it may as well be Michigan for how it looks and I realize too late my SIM card doesn’t work but Instagram still does for some dumb reason and what the fuck am I paying T-Mobile, an international conglomerate that recently bought out Sprint and changed my bill but not my capability, all this money for every month, anyway? Why did I have to rely on an old high school acquaintance, who’s really my brother’s friend’s brother, to get around via e-scooter in Estonia? Why can’t I just shut up and take in a scenic mountain or the quiet crash of an ocean view like a normal person?

On this plane, it feels less draining to imagine Iceland and Greenland are called opposite things. That I can handle.

Before I boarded back in Finland, where I managed one last European pint at the airport bar that was alarmingly close to my gate, I sent one of the longest text messages I’ve ever written, one I spent practically the whole summer composing. Through visits to new breweries, a jaunt to Indiana to check out the Bob Ross museum and set a Guinness record applying a new coat to the world’s largest ball of paint, discovering I hate driving Teslas, Wisconsin, wherever, there it sat idling on my phone — fully formed coming out of my dreams every morning, unfinished in new and unique ways every night before bed. I’d read the fragments over and over again, sleeping on hidden arcs and previously unconsidered angles, gradually edging toward some kind of conclusion, if not resolution. You can’t know what happens after you push send, but I’d been here before; I’d sent almost this exact same message before, in fact. A hideous Hail Mary, a prayer to God, the best I can offer. What I had the moment I sent it were my words.

The weekend before I was slated to leave for this trip, I took it upon myself to sneak in some internal reviews for the radio station I’ve been volunteering at as long as I’ve been in Chicago, 15 years, Jesus, who knew I’d last that long in any capacity as an adult? There’s no great mystery to it: An enormous Google spreadsheet lists all the records we’ve imported but don’t have a review and FCC profanity notes on. It sounds silly and it’s invisible work to a listener, but these short blurbs help DJs sound more informed on air and guide them on what (and more importantly, what not) to play, a system founded in college radio and still alive in the select places they still allow for this kind of thing.

I chance upon TV Priest’s My Other People on account of some very hasty notes from whomever imported it, throw it on, let it run for a bit. I leave it through “Slideshow,” through “Bury Me in My Shoes,” both of which I find pleasantly catchy on a cursory listen. I leave it on some more as I catch up on the news. I leave it on so long, in fact, that I finish the record and immediately feel the urge to play it again from the top, something I’d been missing in music for large chunks of 2022. I think to myself after a first run through that, hey, this is pretty good; I think halfway through a second spin, listening much closer now, that, hey, this is really good; and by the time I’m finished with it again, I think this is improbably my favorite album of the year. I check to see when they’re touring next and practically burst out laughing when I see they’re in town at Beat Kitchen down the street the very next night. In less than 48 hours, I’ve gone from never having heard of this band before to enthusiastically walking out the door of their first Chicago tour date.

Here’s a theory I turned over in my mind that weekend: TV Priest is the band everyone thinks Idles is. I don’t mean any disrespect to the latter; they’re a fine band and if that’s your thing, good on you and them both. But there’s an element of gravitas to the London quartet — an almost Morrissey-like flair for the dramatic in Charlie Drinkwater’s soaring-and-roaring baritone, Nic Bueth’s leaden bass and Ed Kelland’s drumwork that may as well be actual anchors, and the tones Alex Sprogis takes with his guitars — that to me feels more weathered, more adult, a brusque tenderness shaved off in Idles’ more pitched punk. (Not for nothing, but I also saw four guys separately walk into Beat Kitchen behind me with Idles shirts on.) It’s a perfect blend of Associates and Fugazi, brutal and beautiful post-punk elegance ensuing from the end of an empire. I must’ve played “House of York” 200 times if I played it once in the days following the show and that one didn’t even make an album. Many are working in this vein right now, but hardly anyone did it better in 2022.

I am thinking that as “Sunland” plays again and the shine of the real thing above off the white expanse below blinds me. Who’d have thought I’d end up directly next to a guy who was also meeting his brother from New York City in Helsinki for the weekend? Incredible odds. Life is funny like that sometimes. A weekend fueled by croissants and a free upgrade to an automatic-equipped Volkswagen Passat and sun, always the fucking sun up there, they weren’t kidding about that, either, there were more than a few times during this trip when I thought maybe I just wouldn’t come back. Fuck a SIM card, anyway. It’s all just reformed elements, it’s all just numbers on numbers, it’s all just someone else’s profit, right? It’s all just some pointless collapsing star.

Slumped toward sunlight with my head against the fuselage watching infinite white topography shimmer as it passes — Greenland is ice, I promise you that really is it, there’s nothing else down there — I’m playing TV Priest on a busted old iPod and making mental preparations to be apart for an unknown period of time again, stuck in a familiar loop with the voices in my head rolling over the same old questions years long from different angles, chewing on emotional errata and heated fragments past, phrasing the most basic mysteries in different ways and pointlessly expecting some kind of clarity to fall from the flaring, to rise from the ice and reveal itself. The self-interrogation never stops: When do I finally stop being so stubborn about everything that matters, stop taking the harder road, stop thinking too much and feeling too much more? Why am I like this, why can’t I ever see the answers until I’ve asked the right questions a fraction too late? Why am I too slow to understand the truth when it’s not explained to me? Why do I bother believing in anything?

I shut my eyes for a moment, the skin of my lids carry a familiar heft. Honestly, I’m tired of thinking and I’m ready to leave all of this; I’ve never been more ready, maybe. The plane never shudders skeptically, but still I’m there in my seat alone in a metal tube suspended 30,000-plus feet in the air hurtling through space, through life, at 500 mph wondering: What if this is it, what if this is all there was? What happens back home, back there, that place I don’t love enough to want to return to but can’t seem to leave? What am I going to do when my words finally, inevitably fall short, when the best I offer is rotting roses and garbled prayer and a Hail Mary read all wrong? And what if I settle for what happens after that, what if this isn’t all there was? What if good enough is good enough?

Patrick Masterson

[venusiangguk]

gold rush pt. 2 | jjk (m)

>>pairing: jungkook x reader

>>genre: pwp, v little plot, smut, kinda fluffy, college au (kinda), established relationship

>>word count: 8.9k

>>warnings: romantic ass eating 😐, oral (m), fingering (m/f), butt stuff but it’s SEXY, explicit sex, crying, jungkook likes to be praised, soft koo, dom reader... but like soft, spitting in mouth, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, this is so soft, that good smut, literally like 7.5k of filth

>>notes: hot girls eat ass!! oc is a hot girl!! this involves butt stuff (just mouth and fingers, no pegging 😔), so if that isn’t ur cup of tea just read pt 1 again lol, i separated it this way in case there were people who weren’t down to go down... iykyk. but with that said, i encourage u to open ur eyes and ur mind and give this a chance 🤩

>>summary: jk finally lets you eat his ass 😁👍🏻

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

It’s day 6 of trying to get Jeongguk to let you eat his ass. It’s getting hard to function, and the sun doesn’t shine as bright as it used to. The week has been a rough one, filled with clenched butt cheeks, and fewer blow jobs than normal. You just can’t seem to stop yourself from wandering south when you’re down there, so you’ve lost the privilege. Constantly met with Jeongguk’s laughter filled eyes when he pulls you up to where you’re supposed to be, and a “You should not want to eat my ass this bad.”

He just doesn’t understand.

Currently you’re sat in the cafeteria with your friends, your eyes consistently roaming to a table across the large room. He’s laughing at something and his hands are clapping in front of him as he throws his head back. You rest your head on your arms, pouting, and you breathe a deep and miserable sigh.

“Alright y/n what the fuck?” Your friend Yuna says, flicking your cheeks.

Her speaking up causes a few of your other girlfriends at the table to direct their attention towards you. “Yeah, you’ve been like... pouty for the last few days. What’s going on?” Cho questions as well.

You debate keeping the silly internal struggle to yourself before giving in and stating plainly, “Gguk won’t let me eat his ass.” You blow absently at a piece of hair that falls into your face, eyes crossing as you look at it. Next to you, Jiwoo chokes on the zero cal drink that she’s been sipping.

Yuna stares at you blankly for a moment before recovering. “That’s... well that’s a predicament.” She hums in thought. “Does he actually not want to or is he just being shy and stubborn?”

“Second one.” You say. You’ve known your boyfriend for years and you’ve definitely learned how to tell when he’s being serious and when he’s just being stubborn. If you really thought he wasn’t about it you would have dropped it. But you know Jeongguk’s just being difficult because he thinks it’s funny to make you pine, and actually has at least some curiosity about the act. He just won’t admit it.

“Minjun was the same way,” Cho nods in solidarity. “But he likes it now.”

“How’d you get him to change his mind?” You ask perking up. A beacon of hope.

“We watched porn of it together.”

“That’s how I discovered it!” You gasp.

You pull your phone out to text your boyfriend.

you:

minjun let’s cho eat his ass 🥺

You watch Jeongguk from across the room and see the moment he receives the text. He searches the lunch room before his eyes land on yours and he let’s out an incredulous harsh laugh, before shaking his head slightly to himself. You glance at your phone and see the text bubble appear in your messages.

koo 🥴:

maybe he’ll let you eat it too 🥺

You gape at your phone and look at your boyfriend only to see him talking to his friends again. He gives you a side glance and you see his smile grow bigger as he tries to ignore you.

~~~

Jeongguk’s sitting at his lunch table picking at the food in front of him listening as Jimin rambles about the not-so-great grade he got on his latest science test. “Why the fuck do I need to know that the sun will make it too hot for life to exist on earth in a couple billion years? Not only will I be dead, but that is just anxiety inducing.”

His phone that’s vibrating on the table catches his attention, a picture message from you on the home screen. He gets a little excited at the sheer potential that a picture message has and opens it eagerly. Sure the chances of getting a titty pic when it’s mid-day and you’re both in the middle of a lunch cafeteria are small... but they are never zero.

When he opens the message and sees the picture, he laughs loudly before clapping his hand over his mouth to quiet himself.

baby 🥺💘😏🧠🙄👊🏻:

He’s about to respond when Taehyung says, “Alright, you can’t keep laughing at your phone and not tell us what’s so funny.”

Jeongguk looks at the couple in front of him a trace of a smile still lingers on his lips. He shows them what you sent. “Y/n wants to eat my ass so bad.” He laughs to himself, going back to his phone.

“Are you not letting her?” Jimin asks.

Jeongguk sets his phone to the side before he gets to respond. It’s clear his friends are ready to have a conversation about it. “I don’t think so.”

Jimin and Taehyung look at each other and smirk. “Why not? It feels really good.”

He looks between them silently before asking, “You’ve done it?” He receives two nods.

“This one’s a real ass-muncher.” Taehyung says jerking a thumb at his boyfriend. Jimin swats at him.

“He says like that like its a bad thing and like he doesn’t cum from just my mouth and my fingers.” Jimin rolls his eyes.

Jeongguk tenses and turns a little red. A little tremor of heat coursing through his body at the thought of feeling so good that he could cum without even having a hand around himself. “Just from that? No dick touching? Is that even possible?”

“Oh to be straight and oblivious to the wonders of butt stuff.” Jimin pouts at him like he feels bad for him.

Taehyung on the other hand is a bit more helpful. He pops a fry in his mouth and talks with his mouth full, “It’s possible. We have like a button in our ass that’s like... magic. You know what a prostate is right?”

Jeongguk scoffs. “Obviously.”

“Okay well let her put her fingers and tongue in your ass then, if you know so much about it. Have you eaten hers?”

“Yeah I’ve had my tongue in every crevice of that girls body.” He’s nodding and smiling like he’s proud. He glances at you, and he sees you huddled next to your friend, looking closely at something on her phone, your long hair falling like a curtain over your shoulder, some pooling on the table. You look so pretty. You feel his stare, and look at him. Your smile is soft, and your lips pucker in a little kiss. Chuu.

“Right,” Jimin says bringing Jeongguk back to the topic at hand, “Well if she let you, and you’re open to it you should let her... like it will actually feel better for you than it probably did for her.” Jeongguk looks like he’s about to defend his honor and sex skills, before Jimin cuts him off, “Not saying you didn’t do it right or whatever. It’s just that guys are like programmed to like it... like biologically or- something.”

“Or something.” Jeongguk repeats.

“Why don’t you want to in the first place? Is it because you think it’s gay?” Taehyung asks laughing, knowing that that’s not why.

Jeongguk gives him a bored deadpanned stare. “No. Maybe it’s because I shit out of my ass and don’t want her mouth near it? She’s perfect, she doesn’t deserve that.”

Jimin cackles. “Well it’s not like you just let her go for it! You have to prepare.”

Jeongguk sits and listens as his friends give him nothing less than a full comprehensive lecture on the logistics of ass eating and ass getting ate. Ass 101. He’s still unsure but hearing from guys who have actually done it and enjoyed it makes him feel a bit more open and curious. It has him pulling out his phone and tentatively typing out a text to you, finally replying to the picture you sent.

me:

i’m thinking about it

He watches you, waiting for the text to get to you. He smiles when he sees you get excited at seeing his name on your home screen, something warm blossoming in his chest. He struggles to keep his face straight when he sees your head whip up, looking at him wide-eyed like you can’t believe what he just texted you. His fingers wiggle in a small wave, and the biggest smile slowly crawls across your face. He receives one last message before lunch ends.

baby 🥺💘😏🧠🙄👊🏻:

say less, sir 🤤

~~~

Jeongguk lays on his back patiently, looking down at you below him while you take your time planting soft kisses all the way down his body. He was in a quite docile mood considering all the pestering you’ve put him through the past few days. And despite what you both knew you had planned for him. Something he claimed to be nervous about, but you supposed one could be nervous and excited and pliant all at once.

When you take one of his nipples into your mouth he lets out a soft “oh...” his hands flying up like he wants to wrap them in your hair, hold you there till he’s pleased, but he catches himself when his arms are halfway raised. He brings them back down by his sides, fists the sheets like he’s holding himself back, like he wants to be good for you. As you lick and suck on the paired nipple, feeling it pebble in your mouth, you watch  Jeongguk’s mouth fall open silently while his eyebrows furrow and a wrinkle of pleasure forms between them. His cock is steadily going from warm and plump to hot and hard and leaking, you can feel it twitch against your lower belly.

He opens his eyes to watch you and you can see his pupils are blown and you smile up at him, a tiny bud still pulled between your teeth and Jeongguk whines. A high pitch needy, breathy noise falls from his lips before he pulls his bottom one between his teeth. His head turns to the side, baring his neck in subconscious submission, and God. He doesn’t get like this often but when he does? He is the prettiest sight.

Heat pools in your belly and your panties are already sticking to your bottom half. You hum before moving your ministrations to his torso, soft wet open mouth kisses being placed any and everywhere, prolonged ones on each of his abs. He works so hard for his body, his physique. It’s something he does for himself, but you feel lucky that you get to see him like this in all of his glory.

“Thank you.” You say as you place a kiss on the tattoo he has on his hip bone.

He hums, “For what?”

“For letting me see you like this,” You finally wrap a hand around his cock. You bite your lip when you feel it jump in your palm, “For letting me explore today. You’re so sexy, and so lovely, and so perfect. You work so hard, baby.” Kisses, so many kisses planted over his groin area, but never where he wants it most.

He huffs and you can see a flush from embarrassment darken the already present flush of arousal, due to the praise and mention of exploring. He squirms in your hold, not wanting to talk, probably wishing you would just get on with it already. Surely you can feel him throbbing in your hand, right?

Finally, you bring your lips to his frenulum and place the softest kitten lick to it and Jeongguk positively keens in your hold. You stroke his cock, squeezing on the upstroke to watch a bead of precum well at the top. It glistens, shiny and clear, at the pink head. You wrap your lips around the tip fully, lapping and swirling your tongue over it, humming at the heady, slightly bitter taste on your tongue. It’s not particularly pleasant per se but it’s sexy. The fact you get him so worked up that his cock can’t help but leak, so worked up that he can’t help the soft little whines that fall from his lips; the fact that he gets so turned on and hard and wet just from a few of your kisses and licks makes you moan with his cock in your mouth, thighs squeezing together for some type of pressure and relief.

You pop off with a harsh suck. “I can’t wait to taste you.” You groan, licking a broad stripe up his cock with the flat of your tongue.

He grumbles quietly shifting, sort of like he’s antsy and frustrated. He knows what you mean and he knows you don’t mean his cock that you just had in your mouth.

“What was that?” You ask through a smile, nipping at his hip with your teeth.

“Can you stop talking about it and just suck my dick so I can forget you’re even gonna do that?” He rolls his eyes and pouts down at you with a tiny scowl on his face.

“Oh baby,” You laugh, not patronizingly, but there is a little bit of a teasing lilt to your voice, “Are you still embarrassed?”

He doesn’t answer, just scowls harder if that was even possible.

You move away from his cock, and up his body. His eyes reflect panic and his hands finally move from the sheets to press on your shoulders, trying to keep you in place. “No, stay,” he whines.

You laugh again pushing against his hold before finally settling half on his chest. You rest a leg over his thigh, keeping your body close and pressed to his. You look into his big brown doe eyes that are slightly glassy from all the teasing. You can see some apprehension and nervousness swimming in them as you place a hand on his cheek, stroking softly. He closes his eyes and nuzzles into your palm before his hand comes up to hold your wrist, to just touch some more. His other hand runs up and down your body that’s resting half on top of him, tickling slightly like your the one that needs attention. He kisses your hand that’s on his cheek softly before looking at you again.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” You say quietly, thumb brushing over his cheek bone.

His eyes fall closed again and you can see his brow furrow once more, though this time it isn’t out of pleasure it’s because he’s thinking. Despite all the playful teasing and pestering and banter, you’ve always made sure to check that he was actually okay with you going down there. And, yeah, he was nervous but after talking about it seriously and doing some research together he always said he was fine with it. But you know things can change in the moment and you just want to double check, make sure that he still feels that way.

You hum in question gently, prompting a response.

He huffs, tightening his grip on your wrist, a nervous gesture. His eyes are still closed when he quietly says, “No I just... I- I’m not like backing out...”

“You can though.” You interrupt.

His eyes open quickly, and he shakes his head. “No, no I want to I just...” His voice starts off strong but tappers into a softer tone. “I want to I just feel a bit like... weird.”

Your brow furrows this time. “Why, baby?”

“I feel like I shouldn’t want you to.” He doesn’t meet your eyes and you can feel his cheek heat up in your palm.

Ahhhh, you think. Although you talked and teased about the topic, you realize that while Jeongguk agreed (whilst impishly feigning a faux diswant on principle) you never realized that the lighthearted “You shouldn’t want to eat my ass this bad” remarks may have stemmed from something serious, and weren’t just playful protests.

“Why do you feel that way?” You press gently.

His eyes flicker to you and then to your mouth, then back to something (nothing) off to the side. He has a small not-so-amused smile on his lips when he says, “It’s kinda taboo isn’t it?”

You can’t help but giggle at the word he used. Taboo. Out of all the things you guys have done, this is what he chooses to get shy about. Sweet boy.

“Not any more tabooo than you wanting to eat my ass, or fuck my ass.” You hum at him, stretching out the word in a teasing manner, making him look at you. You smile at him before continuing, “Or you like slapping me, or me gagging you with my panties, or-“

“Okay okay! I get it.” He laughs and places a kiss to your lips to get them to stop moving.

You beam, glad to see he’s a bit more relaxed. The boner however, is definitely gone, but that can be fixed.

“I’m not trying to convince you though.” You emphasize, “I only want to if you want to.”

He nods, softly smiling at you. “I want to.”

A salacious grin takes over your face and you sigh softly into his ear before whispering, “Perfect... I’m going to make you feel so good baby, make you feel so good with my tongue. Get you all whiny and red and sweaty. Maybe your legs will start to shake from how good it feels? Do you want that, Jeongguk?” You nip at his ear lobe as you feel a slight tremor run through his body. Your hips subtly roll against the side of his body, seeking any friction at this point. You feel him nod. “Maybe if you like my mouth enough we can use fingers when you’re ready baby.” You hear him suck in a sharp breath and slowly let it out on a shaky exhale. You grin and place a kiss to his temple before continuing. “Get them inside of you to find that spot that will really set you off. The spot that will make you cum for me. Wouldn’t that feel so good baby?”

He nods again and you can feel the hand that has been running up and down your back throughout the conversation grip at your ass roughly.

“Say it baby, I wanna hear you.”

He whines and struggles against the hand on his face that is now gripping his jaw, still putting up a little bit of a fight about wanting something he considers “taboo”. But he gives in easily enough when he realizes you won’t continue until you get more confirmation that he genuinely wants this, and is excited to have it.

“It’s gonna feel so good y/n. God, you’re gonna make me feel so good.” He’s shy when he says it, but he’s almost panting as well. At last, he’s giving in and admitting to himself that this is something that will feel good and is okay to want.

He grips your face and kisses you. It starts slow and tentative but quickly manifests into a kiss that is deep and hard, one that is full of lust and neediness. He bites at your lip needing to release some of the pent up frustration but at your whine of pain he licks over it apologetically, placing softer kisses instead for a moment before he rests his forehead against yours, both your breathing is ragged for a minute until he speaks up.

“Please y/n. I’m so hard.” He pleads in a soft whisper.

You take a second and look down between your bodies and sure enough, his cock has returned to full hardness, and your mouth waters seeing even more precum welling at the tip than before.

“I’m gonna suck it.”

“Please do.” Jeongguk laughs as you move down his body, but the laugh goes high pitched and breathy when you take him down your throat immediately.

“Fuck...” he sighs, his head falling back and eyes fluttering.

You pull off and close your eyes, relishing in the fact that you can make him feel like this. Grinning against his cock you place a kitten kiss to the shaft. “Good baby?”

He nods his head. “Yes yes, please keep going.”

You hum against the head causing Jeongguk to exhale sharply, hips twitching due to the vibrations. He’s so sensitive and you crave the reactions you pull from him. Whether they’re the soft noises and the small twitches or the loud moans and jerking muscles, they are all equally loved and desired.

Quickly you pull off and reach up placing your hand under his mouth, before he can protest at you pausing again. Maybe you’re being a little mean, but he sounds so pretty when he’s desperate and you just can’t help yourself.

“Spit.” You instruct.

You see him work his jaw, sharp edges protruding here and there while he gathers some in his mouth before spitting it into your hand. You peck a nipple on the way back down to his cock wrapping the spit filled hand around him. You see him watching you and you hold eye contact as you gather some of your own and let it drool from your mouth landing on the tip of his cock. You swear you see his eyes go impossibly darker, his jaw clenching, hands turning to fists in the sheets beneath you both.

When you stroke, mixing everything, his eyes close and he lets out a breath through his nose as he rests back and gets a little more comfortable. It’s not too messy, just the perfect amount of wetness for the glide to be slick and pleasing for him. You tighten your grip and twist under the head watching as the muscles in his stomach and thighs tense, a soft grunt draws your gaze to his face.

“Yeah... like that...” he whispers. He’s just barely rocking his hips into your hands, trying to be subtle while also trying to chase the feeling.

You speed up your hand, keeping up the movements he likes while adding your tongue to flick at the underside of his head. You glance at him and find him watching you again, a fucked out look on his face, mouth slightly parted and a bead of sweat running down his temple. Slowly you sink down watching him till you can’t anymore, burying the tip of your nose in the soft patch of neatly kept hair at the base of his cock. When you feel him hit the back of your throat you contract it and shake your head from side to side and finally, finally you pull out one of his loud and unrestrained moans. It goes straight to your pussy, making it feel like it’s pulsing in your panties.

You come up for a breath before you stay down as long as you can repeating the same actions that pulled the lovely moans from his throat and you continue to hear them as you feel him start to sink his hips, almost like he’s overwhelmed and trying to pull away from how good it feels, like he can’t handle how how good it feels.

In your peripheral vision you can see his hands twitching like he’s fighting with himself before he gives in and sinks them into your hair, pulling slightly before pushing your head down and bringing his hips back up. He’s not fucking your face, but he let’s his cock sink as far back as it can and let’s you work your throat around him, lets himself get overwhelmed instead of pulling away from the feeling like he was before.  

Jeongguk was a head pusher in every sense of the term. Some people hated when their partners did that, but you loved it. You loved it because Jeongguk was different from most head pushers. He had variety. Sometimes he liked pushing your head down and holding you there to choke you and watch tears form in your eyes, to watch your makeup run while you struggled to breathe. Sometimes he did it in a face-fucking way, his hips jackhammering while he moved your head up and down just the way he wanted it. This time though, he held your head down in a begging way. In a way that said “Oh god please, please don’t stop, it feels so fucking good, please stay there forever”.

Jeongguk is whimpering above you and you hum and moan loudly sending strong vibrations up your throat and down his cock and he’s thrashing, throwing his head back, grip in your hair tightening, a pleasant pain on your scalp.

“Oh my fucking god,” He groans, neck extended and his eyes squeezed shut.

His whole body is burning when you bring a hand down to massage his balls while still moving your throat against his tip and then all of a sudden he tenses and stills before he’s pulling you off, frantically chanting “Stop it, stop it.”

At lightening speed you grip the base of his cock, squeezing, trying to keep his orgasm at bay. Jeongguk’s whole body jerks with his cock, but no cum leaks out, only precum and spit making a mess on his angry, swollen cock. He relaxes back for a moment, cock still jumping, chest rising and falling as he catches his breath and you do the same and after you slowly release the hold you have on his cock you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

Suddenly your world is blurry and you’re quickly being pulled to his chest and smothered with his hands on your cheeks, and his lips everywhere they can reach.

“God. You’re so good, so so good y/n. So perfect, make me feel so good baby. How do you do it?” He praises you between kisses and you giggle, gently pawing at his chest to get him to stop or at least slow down.

He does and you take a second to look at him. And he’s glowing. His eyes are shining, like he was close to tears and his cheeks are flushed. His sweaty hair sticks to his forehead in places while the longer pieces are fanned out on the pillow underneath him. And his smile. He’s beaming and you are so in love.

You bring a hand up and brush some sweaty strands back off his face. His eyes close and he pushes into the touch like a kitten wanting pets. He sighs contentedly.

“You’re so beautiful, Jeongguk. So pretty.” You whisper, placing a kiss to his forehead.

You bring your hand down from his hair and cradle his cheek, running your thumb over his plump, red bottom lip. You can see faint teeth marks underneath it from where he was biting it. His eyelashes flutter on his cheek as his eyes close and he sighs quietly before he nibbles on the fingertip with his front teeth and then takes the whole thing into his mouth, sucking on it. You gasp quietly, and apply light pressure pushing down on the wetness of his tongue prying his mouth open and he just lets you.

Your lips find his, and you dip your tongue into his open mouth before your hand moves to his jaw to keep it agape and you fuck your tongue into it.

“This is how my tongue is gonna fuck you...” you whisper.

He whines high and needy, and his hands move to cup your cheeks. You moan before settling over him more comfortably and pushing your soaked panties to the side before wiggling till his cock is settled between your lips.

The night was supposed to be about him, but you need something before you lose it. You move your hips in small little thrusts, the length of his cock rubbing deliciously over you clit. You both gasp into each others mouths. The hands on your ass encourage you, pressing into your cheeks and the small of your back whenever you thrust forward, and the thumbs on your hips push when you grind back.

“Holy fuck you’re so wet.” He’s says it like he’s in awe, like he can’t believe it. Like he hasn’t made you this way so many times before.

You rest your forehead on his while continuing to grind on his cock. “Love you like this...” You grip his jaw again and pry it open, even though you know he would open willingly if you just asked. You look in his eyes searching, before you feel him nod in your hold. You lean forward over his mouth and let some spit fall into it, he moans while he eagerly drinks it down.

His grip on your hips tightens and you feel his cock jerk against your clit, but he’s good. He doesn’t cum.

“I love it too... just not all the time... it’s- a lot. Overwhelming.” He whispers, and you coo.

“I know baby, you’re doing so well. Color?” You ask.

“Green.” He answers without hesitation.

You smile and kiss him. “Wanna keep going?”

He flushes when he nods his head. “Please.”

Once again you find yourself between Jeongguk’s legs. You play with his cock a little before smoothing your hands under his thighs, trying to gently push them up and back but he whines and resists.

“You have to let me see baby.” You say, a smile in your voice.

Jeongguk squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath before slowly letting his legs fall apart.

You hum, before saying, “Hand me a pillow please.”

He’s confused but does as you ask, understanding when you tap the side of his cheek with instructions to lift his hips, pillow settling underneath his ass and lower back, propping them up a little.

You settle back down on your tummy, and open his legs again. Jeongguk says nothing but you can feel his body shaking a little with a constant tremor. He takes a deep breath settling back into the pillow he placed behind his head so he can watch what you do next.

“Ready?” You ask, hands gripping at the meaty inside parts of his thighs. You get a stiff nod, but still no noises. You pout but get started by running your tongue flat over his balls, hoping to ease him into it.

You feel his thighs tense, as you lap at the hairless balls, sucking them into your mouth every once in a while. Your eyes constantly flicker to Jeongguk’s face to make sure there’s nothing wrong, but all you see is pleasure on his face while he breathes out in soft little puffs through his nose. His eyes are hooded and his lip is drawn between his teeth.

You hold his heady gaze and you place your first little lick on his perineum. At the contact, his head falls back, mouth hanging open. You wiggle closer to place a kiss to the area, transitioning to quick little flicks of your tongue and Jeongguk moans, and you watch as he spreads a bit more, lifting his feet so his knees are pulled closer to his chest, giving you easier access. You moan at his eagerness, and have to stop for a minute, putting a hand between your legs to just press on your center for some kind of relief.

His eyes are still closed, like he doesn’t want to see you between his legs licking at his most private area, but his quiet whining and restless shifting is enough to let you know that he’s okay and enjoying it.

You bring your hands up and place one on each of his cheeks, squeezing a little, admiring the soft give of his muscles. He’s so plush. You apply pressure so his legs fall farther back and then spread him apart. You bite your lip and your mouth waters at the thought of how good your going to make him feel.

Tentatively you poke your tongue out and trace it around the little ring of muscle. He gasps and tries to clench and close his legs but you hold them in place.

“It’s okay baby.”

“‘S weird...” He mumbles.

“I know. Just try to relax for me, okay?”

You hear him take a few deep breaths before you feel his body shake with a nod. His legs fall open again and you make quick work of his hole, placing your tongue flat over it, dragging all the way up to where his balls meet his perineum.

“Ohhh,” He breathes out.

You take that as a good sign before getting a bit rougher with your actions, less of the tentative licks and more of some tight sucking and quick flicking. He’s doing so well and you can hear him moaning above you. His cock is so hard and swollen on his belly, neglected and leaking.

“Pull your legs back baby.”

He opens his eyes and they are unfocused. It takes him a second to process what you asked him to do, but once he does he moves quickly. He has a hazy look in his eyes, his mouth in parted slightly, and his tongue peaks out to wet his lips as he gets comfortable in the new position.

“Watch me?” You plead, while licking over his hole again, eyes not leaving him waiting for a response.

His eyes close for just a moment and a wrinkle of pleasure forms between his brows and his cock jumps, a little spurt of precum oozing out. He inhales and opens his eyes on the exhale, breathing out a small “Okay.”

Once you start to figure out what he likes and what makes him happy, all you hear is the steadily getting louder pleased noises falling from his lips. You point your tongue and gently push past the tight ring of muscles and Jeongguk sobs. He brings a hand to his face and rubs over it, before throwing his arm over his face, hiding because he’s so overwhelmed. To your surprise he starts to gently rock against your tongue.

“Oh my god you’re so hot Jeongguk,” You moan.

“Don’t stop,” He begs. He sounds close to tears.

“Touch yourself, baby.”

You wait until you see his hand wrap around his cock giving himself a few slow strokes, wet eyes on you, waiting for you to keep going.

As soon as your mouth meets him again, his hand he has on his cock starts moving faster, almost frantically over his length and his hips are stuttering like he doesn’t know if he wants to fuck his hand or if he wants to fuck himself back onto your tongue. You decide for him and hold his hips close to your face, sucking repeatedly on the ring of fluttering muscle.

Jeongguk gasps, “I’m close, I wanna cum y/n- Please, I-“ His head falls back and his hand doesn’t slow.

You give your hum of approval against his hole, and watch him fall apart.

His head is thrown back and he’s so sweaty from working so hard for his release. His chest rises and falls in quick staccato breaths, and his free hand goes up to a nipple, lightly rubbing his thumb over it and he keens, before he goes silent, whole body stuttering and he chokes out nothing more than a quick, quiet “Cumming” before his cock pulses and shoots out 1, 2, 3 stripes of white, the rest dribbling down his length and over his fingers. His body almost convulses from the pleasure coursing through his veins. He keeps stroking, and he lets you keep licking until he squirms, uncomfortable from the overstimulation.

You wipe your mouth and immediately make your way up to his face, straddling his hips. You don’t care about the cum, but you’re carful to avoid his sensitive cock, which is a little deflated but still laying somewhat hard on his tummy. You’re both out of breath when you slam your lips against his so it’s more gasping into each other’s mouths while your lips occasionally meet before you need a breath again. But you’re desperate to show him how good he did.

You pull back and grip his face in your hands. His hands hold your wrists, like he’s keeping them in place on his cheeks. He’s still catching his breath with his eyes closed, but you want him to see how proud you are.

“Jeongguk, look at me.”

He does and his eyes are glassy and wet and his eyelashes are clumped together with unshed tears. He offers you a sheepish smile.

“You did so good baby. So fucking good. I love you.” You pepper kisses over his face.

He laughs breathlessly, “Didn’t get to your fingers...”

You laugh with him quietly. “That’s okay baby, we can do that next time. You were perfect.” You take a deep breath and collapse on top of him, resting your face in the crook of his neck, smiling while leaving small lovebites all over.

After a minute or so though, you feel him start to get restless underneath you.

“What is it baby?” You ask not really moving much.

He mumbles something into the top of your head.

“Huh?” You say sitting up to look at him.

He looks kinda petulant for someone who just came so hard it hit their neck.

He mumbles again.

“Koo. Words.”

He blushes and scowls looking away from you but the hands settled on your hips rub small circles into your hip bones, showing he’s not actually mad and most likely just being a brat.

“I want them now.” It’s quiet and pouty, but at least you understand him this time.

Your mouth opens in understanding but your eyebrows raise in surprise. You look over your shoulder and down to see his cock still laying plump and hard on his stomach in a little puddle of cum.

“Are you sure? We don’t have to, I know we said that was the plan but we can always do it ano-“

He grabs the back of your neck pulls you down to kiss you deep and slow, his tongue finding it’s way into your mouth. When he speaks again it’s soft against your lips.

“Please y/n... it felt so good,” A tiny peck is given as your noses touch.

You exhale a shaky breath, “Yeah, okay. If that’s what you want.”

He kisses you deeply again, but positions you over his cock so he can rut up into your pussy.

“Can’t you feel how bad I want it?” He whispers against your lips. He nips at the bottom one while smiling before pulling away and settling against the pillows again, looking at you expectantly once he gets comfortable.

You roll your eyes playfully. “Big words coming from someone who claimed they didn’t even want this like an hour ago.” You smile down at him, eyes sparkling.

He snickers. He breathes a deep sigh before settling back even more. “Yeah. That was before I came so hard that I almost blacked out.” His hands are behind his head and his eyes are closed like he’s reminiscing about a distant memory, a smug smile on his lips.

“You switch from being my baby to a pain so fast.” You pout as you settle once again between Jeongguk’s legs.

He parts them with a hum. “Still your baby... just- make me feel good please, I’m like so hard- throbbing.”

You suck on your fingers a little bit to get them wet before circling one around the ring of muscles. You don’t miss the tiny gasp, or the way his legs subconsciously part even wider.

“I don’t think it’s gonna feel the best at first....” You warn, applying the slightest pressure to his hole, before going back to circling it. “Hand me the lube on the nightstand please.”

Jeongguk obliges before he says, “I know just... go slow.” He sounds just a little bit nervous.

You give a quick nod while you open up Jeongguk’s half empty bottle of lube and drizzle some onto your fingers, lathering it over them to warm it some before getting them into position.

“Do you think about me when you use this?” you ask still running your slick fingers over him.

He nods and licks his lips subconsciously. “Mhmm sometimes.”

You fake gasp and bite at his knee by your side. You’re sitting crisscross applesauce in between his legs. “Only sometimes?”

“I watch porn too,” He giggles breathlessly. “Sometimes I look for girls that look like you though, if that helps.”

“It does not.” You say indignantly, only half joking.

He brings his foot up and lightly kicks at your leg. “You watch porn too that’s literally why we are in this mess right now. We watched it together.”

You full on laugh at that. He has a point. “Okay enough, hush and relax baby.”

You weren’t sure if it was better to warn Jeongguk, or just slowly ease him into it without saying anything. If you warned him you knew he would tense up and it would just make it harder on his body, but you also didn’t want to take him by surprise either.

You must have just been circling his rim for a minute because Jeongguk huffs before asking, “Are you gonna like... put it in or...?”

You take that as a go, and peck the inside of his thigh a preemptive apology because you knew it was going to hurt a little. Jeongguk had prepped you for the times you tried anal with him and you vividly remember the sting before it became bearable. Your hands and fingers were much smaller than his, and certainly much smaller than his cock, so you are hoping the pain isn’t too horrible and ends quickly.

Oh so slowly you start to sink your middle finger inside of him. He sucks in a breath through his teeth and when you flick your eyes up to look at him you can see his eyes squeezed shut tightly and his jaw clenched.

“I’m sorry are you okay? Does it hurt?”

He shakes his head. “Doesn’t really hurt yet, it’s just uncomfortable... Keep going.”

You nod softly before you resume what you were doing, and once you get down to your last knuckle, you wiggle your finger around inside for a second like you had seen in the porn that you and him watched together, hoping to stretch him out some.

Above you Jeongguk is taking shallow breaths the sort of sound like they are getting a little higher pitched at the end, and he shifts and wiggles a bit because of the foreign feeling. You glance at his cock and see that’s its gone just a little soft.

“Touching yourself might help you relax a little bit and it might make it feel a little bit better.” You suggest lightly.

Jeongguk doesn’t say anything but he does as he’s told, slowly stroking his cock back to it’s full length.

“That’s it, good boy. I can feel you’re less tense already.” You praise, and you start to move your finger in and out. It’s tight, but there’s a lot less resistance. You move them just a bit faster and focus on Jeongguk’s reactions.

His hand has started to move a bit faster over his cock, and his mouth is parted and his eyes are closed, like he’s lost in the feeling. There’s a flush on his face that has travelled all the way down his chest. Soft moans fall from his lips occasionally, although you can’t tell if that’s from you or him touching himself.

“Does it feel good?” You ask, genuinely curious.

“It feels…” He pauses like he’s unsure. “It feels… nice. I think.”

You snort. “You think?”

He laughs a little breathless, hand still stroking over his cock. “I mean it’s weird. But it’s not unpleasant. I could probably cum if I kept touching my dick.”

“Don’t cum, I haven’t found your button yet.” Your eyebrows furrow, determination set on your face.

“I do not have a button.” He says absently.

“You do. I’m gonna do the second one kay?”

“I don’t and okay.”

You ignore him and grab the lube again, adding a bit more. Your fingers find their place and as they start to sink in, Jeongguk sucks a sharp breath through his teeth, and goes rigid. You wince.

“Hurts…” He says quietly.

“I’m sorry baby.” You rub your free hand over his thigh, trying to comfort him. You give him a moment, he takes a few breaths before saying to keep going.

It takes a little bit but eventually you get both fingers in. Jeongguk isn’t feeling good yet, teeth grinding, body tense, and hands fisted in the sheets trying to ground himself, but you are determined to make it good for him. You get on your stomach and add your tongue to your fingers as you start to pull them out just to push them back in. The lube doesn’t taste very good, but the way that Jeongguk’s breath hitches when he feels your mouth on him again makes up for it.

“I- I love that.” He says, voice airy and soft as he turns his head to the side and into his shoulder like he’s trying to hide.

“Mmm, starting to feel good now baby?” You ask, flicking your tongue while your fingers start to sink in easily.

“Yeah, ‘s good…” He mumbles.

Once you’re sure that there’s no pain at all for Jeongguk, you start to crook your fingers inside of him on every thrust in trying to find that secret spot of his. Jeongguk sounds lovely while you’re searching, but the way he sounds when you finally hit it is like nothing you’ve heard from him before. It’s like he gets punched in the gut and looses his breath, a moan getting caught in his throat for a moment before he exhales a high pitched whine. You didn’t get to see it, too focused, but you know his eyes rolled back.

“There,” he breathes.

You moan as you rest your head against his thigh, focusing on your attention on your fingers and hitting that spot every time you move them inside of him. Each time you hit it sweet moans are punched out, or quiet affirmations are whispered. “Yes, please, more…”.

He has that look of pleasure on his face, the scrunched eyebrows, the parted mouth. He’s fidgety, and fussy like he just wants more but doesn’t know how to get it. He huffs, annoyed, before he starts to push back on your fingers.

“God… you’re so desperate for it,” You whisper completely captivated by how much pleasure Jeongguk looks like he’s in.

He doesn’t acknowledge you. Until you start to put a constant pressure on his prostate, rubbing.

“Oh fuck- I-“ He looks down to where your fingers are like he can’t believe the way they are making him feel before he throws his head back and let’s out a deep groan.

He lets you make him feel good, let’s the pleasure build up in his body until you start to feel him tense. His whines start to come out more frequently, almost constant moans filling the air. So noisy. His legs open more and you see how his toes curl in the sheets.

“Oh my god I think I’m gonna cum,” It’s said breathlessly, almost confused. Like he didn’t think that he would actually be able to cum just from your fingers inside of him, hands still at his sides fisted in the sheets.

“Yeah baby?” You ask, voice airy.

He nods, tongue poking out of his mouth like he’s concentrating.

Your arm hurts, but you keep thrusting and rubbing over that spot inside of him. His muscles are strained, and next to your body, you can see his legs start to tremble. His breathing is fast and short. His cock is fat and swollen laying in a puddle of precum, it looks like it hurts with how red it is. You take you other hand and start to rub on his perineum, stimulating him on the outside as well as the inside and that’s when he loses it.

He let’s out a choked cry before his body jerks up, curling in on itself. “Oh fuck I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m cumming-“

You don’t let up, an awestruck smiling forming on your face as you watch Jeongguk fall apart on your fingers. He’s so tight around them, it’s like his body is begging you not to stop, keeping you in place. He feels like every hair on his body is standing on end and like his skin is overly receptive and sensitive to every little thing. Wave after wave of ecstasy is flowing over him. His whole body trembles, yet his cock doesn’t jerk like with his other orgasm. This time it just pulses flat on his stomach, cum leaking out of the tip adding to the mess that was already there. With every pulse of his cock, Jeongguk’s body curls more, back raise off the bed, abs flexed due to the strain on his core. The look on his face is one of indescribable pleasure. It’s obscene. After the final pulse of his cock, he falls back, absolutely spent.

Your fingers slowly come to a stop, and you carefully remove them from him and wipe them on the bed before you crawl over his thigh and flop down by his side. You peck his cheek, staying quiet this time, not wanting to overwhelm him. He’s still has tremors running through his body when he turns his head to look at you. His chest is heaving and his eyes are droopy, but there’s a sleepy smile on his lips. He curls onto his side so you guys are facing each other.

The silence is thick and heavy but not in a suffocating way. More so in a comforting way. The atmosphere feels like you both are wrapped in a weighted blanket, just relishing in the warm afterglow of what you did together.

You wiggle closer, hook a thigh over his hip. “How was it? Did you like it?” You don’t know why but you sound shy, kinda nervous.

He simply nods, a soft smile on his face as he brushes some hair behind your ear, hand coming to rest on your cheek for just a few seconds before it’s sliding down your arm, down your hip, playing with lacy top of your panties. He bumps noses with you, breathing in your exhales before he closes his eyes and fits his lips between yours. His hand slips into your panties.

You open easily for him, angling yourself mostly on your back so it’s easier for him to reach where you want him most. He sighs into your mouth when he feels how wet you are. He dips between your lips and you gasp, hand going down to grip at his wrist willing him not to tease, to not move his hand away.

“Don’t worry, I just wanna make you feel good baby.” He coos in your ear as his middle finger starts to rub slowly over your clit.

You let out soft whimpers at the slow pace that makes the fire in your belly curl and steadily grow.

“Jeongguk, I’m already close…” You warn.

“Mmm, that’s it baby. Want you to cum for me, like I came for you.” His finger speeds up some. “Fuck, you made me cum so hard y/n. Made me crazy. You always do.” He moans gently into your ear.

You nod, and your legs begin to tremble. “Don’t stop,” You beg, meaning both his fingers and his words.

“You wanna know what it felt like? You wanna know what you did to me?” He presses a touch harder, and nips are your cheek.

You nod again, subtly rocking your hips into his touch.

“You made me cum untouched y/n. Do you know how good you had to fuck me in order for that to happen? God, it was so intense, and I was just leaking so much the whole time. You did that to me baby, you made me feel that good. Fuck, I wanna make you feel that good too, please cum for me y/n. I know you’re close, I know your body just as well as you know mine.” He sounds desperate, just yearning to get you there. “I can tell by the way your legs are shaking, and the way you can’t stop whining my name. Sound so pretty baby, just for me. Your hand on my wrist is gripping so hard, like you can’t take what my fingers are doing to you. But you’re gonna take it and give me what I want right? Just like I gave you what you wanted, hmm?”

“Fuck, Jeongguk I’m cumming,” You cry, his words and his fingers making you shake and finally get the release that you’ve been putting off the whole night. Your thighs close over his hand but Jeongguk doesn’t let up, not until you’re cumming for the second time in a span of minutes.

“Please- I can’t-“ You squirm, and wiggle, until his fingers slow and finally slip form your panties. You sigh in bliss, body twitching as the last bits of your climax leave your body.

You turn back to your side and snuggle all the way against Jeongguk’s body, legs intertwining. Jeongguk runs his nails over your back, making little goosebumps sprout over your body. There’s a peaceful quiet coming over you, both tired from the events of the night. Jeongguk breaks it.

“Thank you for taking care of me.” It’s a timid statement, but you can hear how much he means it.  

You kiss softly over his heartbeat. “I always will.”

“Just please don’t ever ask to peg me.”

You simply hum. “Goodnight baby.”

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

i hope you liked it!! i’m thinking of writing a smutty drabble of when oc and jk watch the porn together 🤨 let me know if you would want to read that or anymore of this universe! comments, notes, and feedback are YEARNED for. my ask is also open if you want to request, share thoughts, or just talk

part 3 here!

[for-doritos-and-aslan]

Locket and Key- Chapter Two (mob!tom holland x reader)

Warning: mentions of drugging, getting drugged, cursing, smut in upcoming chapters

-

chapter one

Tom had been ruling the streets of London as long as he could remember. The Hollands had erected an empire centuries ago; that empire now ruled the streets of London itself. In reality, the chain of power stood over Tom from birth to adolescence like iron bars around his life.

The kind of power he held was immense. But it wasn’t really a power he could escape.

Because once you were in the mafia, you didn’t leave.

He always got what he wanted, whether it be: drugs, money, sex, or girls. No one would dare to challenge him. They knew better. Anybody that crossed Holland got shot. End of story. That’s why he knew he’d get you, eventually. And he knew the fucking truth, that everything had been a lie and somebody’s blood was about to be on his hands.

It’d been nearly a week since he first saw you. He didn’t want to startle you or harm you yet, and let Tanner befriend you before silently drugging you and bringing you to Tom. He knew there’d be no way he could just casually bring someone over to the base, exposing everything. What if he was wrong about you? It could fuck up everything.

And for some selfish reason, Tom didn’t want to ask nicely for you to come. Because Tom wanted to tear you from that harsh, cold world. He wanted to bring you right back into his arms, where you should have been the entire time.

If it hadn’t been for that fucking street trash.

That fucking street trash- it brought down a now-forgotten empire to ashes.

He’d burn them alive for what they’d done.

-

It had been a few days since your arrival to London, and you were settling into the area and your new job. It was going lovely, and the everyone at the newspaper job enjoyed your ideas and writings. You left work everyday feeling content, ecstatic for the next one. You’d been working on a column to show the senior editor, in hopes that she would put it in the next edition of the paper. And although the area was a bit rough, everyone in your complex seemed nice and friendly.

You still had your parents blocked. There was no way for them to track you- and you were now eighteen. They couldn’t call the law on you, but they did have strange friends that they could call. Friends that would come over in your childhood and talk about strange things you didn’t understand. Like guns, money, and drugs. And they were scary- sometimes armed and very buff.

They always said they would send someone after you if you tried to run away or be bad.

And you were always afraid, until you gained the will to at eighteen.

And so far, it was really paying off. You had a new job, a new place to live, and you were free to do whatever you wanted. No one was controlling you anymore.

On the sixth day at your new job, a new girl joined the desk right beside you. She seemed very friendly, and her eyes sparkled when she first met you. You supposed it was because she was shy. Her name was Tanner, and she had bright red hair; it was fairly short, and she was pretty tall. Both of you began to talk, almost instantly clicking. You discovered she was confident and very athletic; she knew martial arts and kickboxing.

She didn’t seem like the type of person to be a writer. But you knew to never judge a book by its cover.

Also, it was nice to have a friend in the city. You knew no one, and although you loved where you lived, it also felt lonely. Everyone was a stranger passing by, their stories never quite intersecting yours. Some were even rude. Tanner seemed like a person you could rely on, even though you had just met her.

“Hey, do you say we go get dinner after shift? I know a great cafe down the road, my treat.” Tanner said, as the sun began to paint orange blocks upon the floor. It was nearly six o’ clock, and the day was beginning to fade. Your shifts would end soon, leaving the night free.

“Yeah, sounds good.” You spoke, quickly proofreading a blog post written by a coworker. You needed to finish it before the day ended, and there were many errors. “Sorry, just finishing this. You don’t have any work?” you asked, leaning over to look at Tanner.

“Nah, I finished that earlier today.” she explained, but you never recalled her working the entire day.

“Alright, well let me finish this.” A few more sloppy scans and corrections of the blog post, and you submitted it to your boss. “Let’s head out.”

The dusk air was balmy and the light shining on the buildings was sleepy; soft lights began to turn on down the street. It was a short walk to the cafe’, and as you neared it, the sun let her last rays fall on London. Inside, the cafe was warm and cozy.

Tanner led you to a small table at the back of the restaurant, smiling softly. It was secluded and almost empty, but you knew it had amazing food. Only a few other patrons were there, clustered together at the front of the building. A waitress approached the table and greeted both of you, handing you menus.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a man dressed in brown and black sitting in the corner. For some reason, this man had been around you yesterday; the fact that you recognized him startled you. Was it your parents? Had they found you? Why was he following you? Tanner didn’t notice the expression of distress upon your face. Even then, he seemed so familiar.

And everytime he would look at you, you felt as if every cell in your body was vibrating.

The waitress left the table and you began to scan it, deciding what to wear. Taking a sip of your water, you decided on a lemon garlic salmon dish, which sounded absolutely delicious. Soon you forgot about the man in the corner, wrapped up in the conversation between you and Tanner. Light music played in the background as you held your stomach, trying to stop the onslaught of laughter. She was funny.

She’d been telling you a story about her childhood, when she’d put peanut butter on her dog. And the dog had gone running around and around the house, and her Mom had been pissed.

“Yeah, she’s still mad about that one.” she giggled, wiping her eyes.

“I bet!” You said, smiling. “Whew! I need to use the restroom. I’ll be right back.” Tanner suddenly gave you an anxious look, but she quickly masked it.

Pushing yourself up from the chair, you figured you’d ask her when you got back.

After finishing your business, you rejoined Tanner at the table. The food still hadn’t gotten there yet, and you were starving. “Damn! I really hope that food gets here soon. I’m starving after that long day at work.” Tanner nodded, giving a small laugh.

“Shouldn’t be much longer.” she said, scratching her head.

“You alright? You seemed nervous earlier.” you were always perceptive to how other people were reacting, which startled them sometimes.

Tanner didn’t respond at first, but finally did. “Yeah! Yeah. I promise I’m all right.” she explained, fully leaning back in her chair. “Are you? That coffee destroy you yet?”

This earned a laugh from you as you embarrassingly hid your face. “Please, I have to have my caffeine in the morning.” you picked up your water and took a large sip, feeling dehydrated. “My stomach has been so upset today, and I don’t know why! Didn’t happen until I got to work.”

Soon the food came out from the kitchen, and Tanner was right- it was amazing. The salmon was cooked perfectly, and you soon finished it. Your mother could never cook, and you rarely ate out at restaurants. It felt like heaven in a bite.

After thirty minutes of talking, you began to feel strange. You were extremely relaxed and lethargic, and felt like you were gonna pass out.

Maybe it was the lily day at work, but you couldn’t really form a straight sentence in your head either. You sat at your chair, in a slump. A nap sounded like a really good idea.

But it was too late when you realized what had happened.

Tanner had fucking drugged you.

You tried to stand up from the chair, but your knees buckled to the ground. The shop was now empty, and everything seemed to spin. Nothing was clear either; everything was a blur. The man in the corner stood up, and two strong arms caught you. Tanner.

Muffled voices rumbled together in the background, but you couldn’t decipher them. You only knew it was a man and a woman. Their voices were high-pitched, and maybe they were yelling. You really didn’t know what was happening.

“I’m sorry, I promise this will all make sense very soon. I’m so sorry, y/n.” she whispered in your ear. Where the fuck was everyone?

You tried to spit in her face, but only drool dripped down your chin. Black curtains seemed to fold and open on the edge of your vision, signaling you were about to faint. “L-let me g-go.” you spoke, with gritted teeth. Every muscle in your body seemed to ache as you spat those words out at her.

What was happening? As the world began to get dark, all you could feel was fear. Like something really, really bad was about to happen.

What had you gotten yourself into?

And right before you passed out, you saw the eyes of someone you never expected to see again.

The man at the nightclub.

-

NOT EDITED YET.

sorry about the wait! I got a bit overwhelmed, but I’m good now. :) hope you guys enjoy!!

TAGLIST: @ellabellabus07 @aquawomxn

*comment down below or ask me to be added to my taglist!

[nyxdelanuit]

Feral (Tendou x F! Reader)

Hey! Here’s Nyx being super late with a collab fic for the Haikyuu Headquarters Collab, which can be found here! 

Special shout outs to @the-great-queen and @fallingintoimagination for getting me hooked on Feral Tendy <3 and @mammonrights for bein a heathen with me.

Warnings: Biting, Marking, Slight breeding kink cause it’s me, A lil bit of predator/prey play, and NSFW abound~ 

You quite enjoyed the calm, lazy weekends where you curled up with a book or movie, ignoring the outside world and the coming work week. The same couldn’t be said for your friend, currently draped over your lap, whining.

 "I'm so bored, let's do something fun." Tendou looked up at you with pleading eyes as you kept watching your show. You were only a few episodes out from the season finale, and you weren't too keen on stopping now.

 "I am having fun, Sa-to-ri." You grinned, glancing down at him, "It's not my fault you don't have any taste." He pouted at you, the teasing something that had thrived in your friendship.

 “It’s not my fault I’ve already read the whole series before the show started. I could tell you what happens if you want.” Your attention turned fully to him, what he wanted all along.

 "You wouldn't dare, Tendou." You tried to keep your gaze hard on him, despite the growing grin on his face.

“Ooh, pulling out the last name, that hurts.” He put a mocking hand over his chest. “And I wouldn’t have to ruin the whole series for you if you just entertained me a little.” You huffed, pausing the show and giving him an unamused glare.

"Fine, and what do you want to do exactly?" He sat up, leaning in close to you. You could feel the heat of your face at his nearness but kept up your mask. It wasn't new for you and Tendou to flirt like this, but it never failed to excite you.

 “Would you believe me if I said you?” The coy grin he wore made you roll your eyes.

 “No.” You turned your face away, trying to calm your desperate heartbeat before you gave him more ammunition to tease you. His calloused fingers slid under your chin, bringing your face back to his gaze.

 "I think you're lying… you want it, don't you?" You bit your tongue softly, trying to weigh your options. Tendou would notice right away if you lied, and you wouldn't dare tell him the truth, that you had been dreaming of the day he'd finally make a real move.

 It seemed Tendou was especially impatient that day, pressing a light kiss to your lips before retreating, hopping off your couch to stretch. “Let’s play tag.”

 You were snapped out of your stupor at the kiss by his words, wondering if you had possibly imagined it. "W-what?" His eyes drifted to yours with a predatory smile.

 “Tag. If you can keep away from me for… hmm… fifteen minutes, you win. We keep watching your show, no more complaints from me.” You furrowed your brows.

 “Satori, we’re not kids anymore. I figured you’d want to go out to a club or something, why tag?”

 “Cause it’s fun. Live a little, play tag with me.” He shrugged and held out a hand, which you reluctantly took, pulling you to your feet.

 “Fine, and what happens if I lose?” His eyes glittered with a curious mischievousness, and you were almost tempted to pull your hand away.

 "I'll think of something. Now for the rules. No leaving the house, no locking doors. I'll give you a 30-second head start. You can hide if you really want to." His grin only grew as he spoke, showing his excitement for your little game. You rolled your eyes again, ignoring the spark of adrenaline that ran through your veins. "Sound good to you?"

 "Yeah, sure, Satori."

 "Then… Run." The look in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but wonder if this was how a rabbit felt staring into the eyes of a wolf. Once he started counting, you were pulled from your frozen state, turning and bolting down the hallway. You could still hear him, his singing echoing through your house as he counted down the seconds to his hunt. With no more than a handful of seconds left, you crept into the ancient wardrobe in your room, thankful you hadn't had the time to fill it properly. You bit at your lip, trying to get the door to close from the inside was harder than you expected.

 Your breath hitched as you heard his footsteps, far too close for you to fiddle with the door anymore. You pressed yourself into the dark of the wardrobe, hoping it was enough to conceal you as his shadow snuffed out what remained of the light.

 Your hands flew to your mouth, holding in your breath along with the whine that threatened to escaped as he paused in front of you.

 “Come on out sweetness, maybe I’ll make your punishment something we’ll both enjoy?” His voice was deeper than usual, a darkness you’d only caught glimpses of before now on full display. You shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as you were, the heat pooling in your stomach as he lingered. Something about the tension, the anticipation of being found was a drug to you.

 He slowly moved away, something you only noticed by the return of the light. You sat for several long moments, trying to hear past the blood rushing in your ears as you peeked through the door. The room in front of you was empty, and he could no longer be heard. If you wanted to run, now would be the time. Cautiously, you pushed open the door, creeping out one leg at a time until you released a shuddering breath, straightening your clothes.

 "You should probably run now, little lamb." The voice made you jump, even more so the sight of Tendou, leaning against the door you had just open, a malicious grin splitting his face in two. You ran without any thought, slamming doors behind you as you tried and failed to remember your house's layout. Every step, every labored breath you took, you could hear him nearing. You could feel him hot on your heels, to the point where the doors were no longer falling closed behind you, merely bouncing off his extended arm, slamming against the wall.

 You had made a mistake somewhere in your panic. A room with no other doors, no easy means of escape, just you and Tendou standing at separate sides of the room. All you could do was watch as he closed in, your heart jack-hammering against its cage. The only way out was around, to fake out the former Guess Monster of Shiratorizawa.

 Breathe in, breathe out- glance to the side, opposite of where you were planning of going. Your mind was working faster than you thought possible, acting on the barest hint of thoughts as Tendou's hands neared you. You ducked, somehow slipping through the narrow escape between his arm and his body. Your lungs burned as you ran, the peals of laughter echoing throughout the halls as the hunt continued. How long could fifteen minutes be?

 Each step, each ragged breath sent a fire through your veins. Maybe Tendou had the right idea, when was the last time you felt this alive? Slipping through doorways, skidding along tiled floors, nervous laughter seeping through your lips as his cackling rang in your ears. Faster, quicker, just seconds ahead of his hands, you ran. You couldn't hide, not anymore, all you could do was hope that you were faster than him until the clock ran out.

 You somehow found yourself back where you started, the timer of his phone counting down the last seconds of your game. You had won, you knew it, just a few more seconds…

 A shrill scream tore through your throat; you had let yourself get distracted. Calloused fingers wrapped around you, holding your arms tight to your chest as the alarm rang through the house. You had almost won… Tendou pulled you flush against his chest, every inch of him wrapped around you, pressed against your back.

 “Too bad, little lamb.” He taunted, his lips brushing against your ear. “You were so close.” You hadn’t even noticed the whine that escaped you until you heard him chuckle, low and dark. “You stopped there near the end… did you want me to catch you that bad?” You shook your head, belatedly noticing how his hands sunk into the plush of your chest. “You can deny it to yourself all you want, but your body says differently. You haven’t even tried to slip away.” He moved his head to brush his lips against your neck, the barest brushes of skin. There was no fighting the shiver of pleasure that ran down your spine or the gasp that slipped past your lips.

 You resisted even less when he turned you, pressing your chests together as his head dipped to kiss you hungrily. You opened to his whims easily, tongue and teeth clashing with no other thought than the hunger that burned deep in your stomach. When had your hands buried themselves in his? When had he stopped kissing you in favor of trailing bites down the length of your neck? It was happening so quickly, and yet it seemed as if this had been building up as long as you could remember. He devoured you, as he did so many other things. Headfirst into his passion with little regard to anything else as his rough hands slid under your shirt, quickly pulling it up and over your head. He barely pulled away to pull his own off by the collar, whipping it to the abyss that existed outside of you and him.

 Throughout the house, he led you, a trail of clothes littering your path. He was nothing but a storm of lips and teeth, marking every inch of skin he could reach, claiming you as his prize. He hadn't even stripped you of your underwear, but the way he was grinding against you, laving his tongue over the deep imprints of his teeth had you writhing for release. Finally, a single finger dipped between you, dragging over your covered folds and feeling the dampness that made the fabric cling to your skin.

 “Pretty little lamb, I’m going to destroy you.” He chuckled, his breath falling heavily against your neck. You nodded, already a whining mess.

 “Please, Satori… I want you, please.” Was that your voice? You hardly recognized it, buried beneath all the lust and longing weighing down the tone.

 He spoke mockingly as he slowly pulled the last scrap of fabric down your legs. “I knew you wanted me, little lamb… but I didn’t mind playing our little game to make you admit it. You opened your mouth to refute him, to say something in your defense, but the only thing that came out was a sinful moan as his teeth sunk into your thigh, marking you so close to where you wanted him.

 Words failed you, lost in the haze that was Tendou Satori, and all you could do was pull him in closer, desperate to feel him inside of you. He fit against you so well, the feeling of his lips on yours was a drug like no other. You melted against his touch, conforming to his body as he hitched your leg high up on your hip. His touch on your hip was firm, holding you still as he teased at your entrance, watching your face with a sadistic smile.

 Ever so slowly, he sunk in, his mouth open as he let the softest of groans escape him while he watched you writhe as you tried to push down further on his length. "You know, little lamb… I never said what I would take as my prize…" You attempted to clear your cloudy eyes, focusing on his gluttonous face.

 "I thought this…" A sharp thrust, bottoming Tendou's length inside you brought your sentence to a breathy end, but you tried to continue on, "I thought I was your prize?"

 “Hmm… but you gave yourself over to me without me even asking… I guess I’ll just have to cum in you as my prize.” It shouldn’t sound so appealing falling from his lips, but all you could do was keen out, desperate for him to take you in any and all ways he wanted. He won you fair and square.

 “Please, Satori, whatever you want, just move!” His smile darkened, a calloused finger coming up to brush lightly against your cheek.

 “How can I resist when you beg so nicely for it?” With that last word, his hands returned to your hips, holding on in a bruising grip as he pulled out slowly, watching the tears gather on your lashes as you pleaded for him to move faster. As soon as the tip traced your entrance, something in him snapped. He bucked into you wildly, pulling a loud moan from your lungs.

 Gone was your lazy, teasing friend that you spent calm Sundays with, replaced with a hungry animal, intent on devouring you from the inside out. Each roll of his hips pushed you further from your thoughts, focusing only on the carnal way he hunched over you, sucking deep marks into your skin to remind you long after this was over of what he turned you into. Just a mewling, desperate mess, falling apart underneath him, pliant to his every touch. And touch he did, imprints of his hands seemed to be carved into your hips, the ghost of his teeth in every bite he laid on your skin still stinging, only heightening the pleasure of his cock pistoning within you.

 The pleasure became overwhelming, and you dug your nails into his shoulder, desperate for anything to ground yourself in this moment. It only spurred him on further, a deep growl rumbling in his chest as you marked him in kind. Some small stake that showed you weren't just a passive participant in his game. You pulled him close with the grip you held on his shoulders, panting heavily on his shoulder before you bit into his neck, mirroring one of the many marks he had left on you. The whine you pulled from his throat only made you moan against his skin as he pushed your legs higher, trying to find a better angle to sink into you as you savagely attacked his neck.

 You only pulled away when you felt the peak growing impossibly close, a breathy moan of his name bringing him back to himself.

 “Please, Satori, I’m so close.” You let the tears spill from your lashes, twin rivers framing your face as you stared up at him, pleading. “Fill me up, please.” He groaned lowly, pulling back just enough to sneak a hand between your bodies. Those stupid, calloused fingers you had grown to appreciate so quickly deftly found your clit, sensitive from all the friction of his rutting, and he relentlessly assaulted the swollen nub. You felt him start to twitch inside you as you tensed, finally cresting in pleasure.

 He was thrown violently into his orgasm as you cried out his name, clenching your fists around his shoulders once more. Each thrust as he worked through his release brought you closer to over-stimulation, the added friction on the edge of pain as he filled you.

 The house was finally quiet, the only sound coming from your intermingling breaths, heavy and satisfied. He collapsed next to you, content to relax against your pillows as you processed all that had just happened. When you remained silent, he turned his eyes to you with a grin. “We can go watch that show now.”

 You couldn’t stop the nervous giggle that escaped you. “After all that, you want to go watch that show?” He nodded, smirking.

 "Yeah, why not?" He sat up, stretching out his shoulders, and giving you a good view of the angry red lines you had left all over him.

 “So… do we just pretend this didn’t happen?”

 "I don't know what you mean, I thought I made it pretty clear." You wished you could see his face as he got up for even a hint of how he felt.

 “What do you mean, Satori?”

 “I won you.” He sung, “I marked you inside and out. You’re mine now.” He turned with a mischievous grin, and you wouldn’t be surprised if this was the outcome he wanted when he walked through your door this morning. Still, you stood, walking over to him and running a hand down his chest.

 “You did, didn’t you?” With your confirmation, his grin softened to a more sincere smile, ducking to place a kiss to your cheek.

 “So, time for your show, little lamb?”