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her-satanic-wiles · 2 months ago

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Kinktober Day 7 - Magical Fleshlight

Mountain x Reader

Fuck… why does this feel so real? It’s so… wet. Holy shit.

Masterlist ⛧ Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Words: 6k.

Reading Time: 24 min.

Warnings: elements of crack!fic, masturbation, multiple orgasms, noncon, non-discussed sexual activity, public, PIV sex, unprotected sex, vaginal sex

Taglist: @akayuki56 @alien-the-ghost @amazing-bobinsky @angellayercake @anonymous-appreciation @babydestinyinfluencer @bitchywitchygardener @blossomsea @call-me-little-sunshine84 @copiaspet622 @copiasslut @cosmixxdust @da-rulah @dolceterzo @dopey-fandom-girl @faithisyours @ghoulishxdelights @hauntedharmonic-ghoulishhaunter @high-above-the-city @howlingco @inkstainedrat @kaijukimchi @kenken-the-shoggoth @ledger-kaos @magopi @megachaoticstupid @meliza1001 @miss-leto @mommy-dust @neganwifey25-blog @piaart @saintbowie @shycardinale @sister-of-sin-claudia @sisterof-sin @sodoswitchimage @the-did-i-ask @xiyingly @zombiesnips-blog

🔞 MDNI 🔞

Mountain slumped onto the bed, sighing heavily as he bounced softly on the plush springs. The day had dragged on endlessly, each hour dragging him further into a storm of stress and fatigue. He could feel the tension in his muscles, the tight knots in his back that throbbed with every movement, and the cramping beginning to form in his legs, a testament to the physically demanding tasks he’d faced. All he wanted was to escape into the soothing embrace of sleep.

Curling up onto his side, he nestled into the cool sheets, the soft fabric a welcome contrast to the roughness of his day. As he logged onto Instagram, the flickering glow of his phone illuminated the dim room, casting playful shadows against the walls. It was a moment of solace, a brief respite from the chaos of the outside world.

Then, your most recent picture appeared on his timeline, and a jolt of electricity surged through him. You were stunning, radiating a captivating allure that pulled him in like a moth to a flame. The memory of the dress you wore last night flickered in his mind—a form-fitting creation that hugged your curves perfectly, its delicate fabric accentuating every feature that drove him wild. He could almost see it bunched up around your waist, his imagination running riot as he pictured the scene.

His heart raced at the thought, and he cursed under his breath, shaking his head as he tried to dispel the imagery. No. He couldn’t think like that. Not now, not when he was exhausted and vulnerable. But the temptation lingered, clawing at the edges of his mind like an unquenchable fire. He longed to reach out, to hold you close, to forget the weight of the world for just a moment.

He swiped through your photos, each one more intoxicating than the last—your smile, your laughter, the way your eyes sparkled with mischief. Each image only deepened his frustration and desire, intertwining with the stress of the day, creating a tangled web of emotions he found hard to unravel. The solitude of his room felt stifling, an echo of his longing that was now amplified by your presence on his screen.

Mountain’s thoughts drifted, his body still heavy with weariness yet somehow ignited by an unshakeable yearning. The contrast of his physical exhaustion and the vivid allure of you made his chest tighten. He wanted to rest, to forget his troubles, but he also craved something more—something electric, passionate, and intoxicating.

With a deep breath, he set his phone down, staring at the ceiling as he tried to clear his head. The images of you still danced in his mind, teasing him mercilessly. Perhaps a little distraction would help? A warm shower, a drink, or maybe… just maybe, a little bit of magic to soothe his aching body and restless thoughts. He could picture you there beside him, laughter filling the air, and a shiver of anticipation raced down his spine.

He rubbed his hands over his face, trying to scrub the image of you beneath him from his mind, but it was too late. The fantasy had taken root, blossoming into something far too vivid to ignore. His body was already responding, a heat rising in him that seemed to defy his efforts to suppress it.

With a frustrated sigh, he sat up, his heart pounding as he fought to regain control. The bed felt too soft, too inviting, and his thoughts were spiralling into tantalising possibilities. The way you had looked in that dress—the way it had clung to your body, accentuating your curves—sent a rush of heat coursing through him. He could almost feel your skin beneath his fingertips, the way your body would yield to his touch, inviting him in, urging him to explore.

Mountain clenched his fists, digging his nails into his palms as if to ground himself. He was all too aware of the growing tension in his lower abdomen, a primal response that stirred within him, demanding attention. It was maddening. No, he thought firmly, pushing back against the wave of desire. He needed to focus on anything else—work, the tasks ahead, the mess he’d need to clean—but his mind was relentless, cycling back to you.

He stood abruptly, pacing the room as he tried to shake off the intrusive thoughts. Each step seemed to echo with the memory of your laughter, the way your eyes sparkled with mischief, and the intoxicating scent of your perfume. It wrapped around him like a fog, clouding his judgment and amplifying his longing.

“Get a grip,” he muttered to himself, the words barely making it past clenched teeth. But as he turned, his gaze fell upon the fleshlight sitting innocently on the bedside table—a recent acquisition, born of desperation and curiosity. The relic hummed softly, as if it sensed his turmoil, and suddenly, he felt a magnetic pull toward it.

Could it really help him escape the throbbing desire that gripped him so tightly? With a tentative hand, he reached for the enchanted device, the cool surface grounding him momentarily as he contemplated his options. It had been whispered among friends that this magical relic could bring fantasies to life, enabling a connection that was both intimate and otherworldly.

Magic? As if. That sounded like the plot of a shitty smutty novel. There was no magic in the real world.

He glanced back at his phone, at your radiant smile, and felt a surge of determination wash over him. Why not give it a try? Perhaps, just this once, he could indulge in a fantasy—a fleeting moment of pleasure that could distract him from the gnawing stress of the day.

With a deep breath, Mountain took a seat on the edge of the bed, the tension still simmering within him as he examined the magical fleshlight in his hands. If there was ever a time to explore the boundary between reality and fantasy, it was now. He was ready to surrender, if only for a little while.

He ran his finger over the fleshlight’s clitoris, the smooth surface cool against his heated skin. The mere touch sent a shiver down his spine, igniting a flicker of anticipation in his belly. The magical device seemed to hum with energy, almost as if it were alive, responding to his touch and urging him to let go of his inhibitions. As his imagination began to weave vivid images of you, he closed his eyes, allowing the fantasy to envelop him.

Meanwhile, you were sitting in the library, surrounded by towering shelves filled with dusty tomes and parchment scrolls. The warm, golden light from the lamps cast a comforting glow, but it did little to dispel the exhaustion that clung to you like a second skin. Traveling for the Ministry had worn you out, leaving a mountain of work to tackle. You felt as if you were drowning beneath the weight of it all, buried under reports and briefings that demanded your attention.

Determined to catch up, you hunched over your desk, your quill scratching furiously against the parchment. The words began to blur together as your mind wandered, drawn back to thoughts of Mountain. You couldn’t shake the image of him, powerful and stoic, but with an undeniable softness lurking beneath the surface. That intense gaze of his always made your heart race, igniting a warmth that spread through you.

It was maddening, really, how one thought of him could send your concentration spiraling. You shifted in your chair, the tension in your back protesting the long hours spent hunched over your work. A sigh escaped your lips as you glanced at the clock, realising how late it had grown. The library felt even quieter now, the stillness pressing in around you, amplifying your restlessness.

But that was when you felt it. A sudden, electrifying swipe over your clitoris, sending shockwaves of sensation coursing through your body. You froze, your pen hovering above the notebook, heart racing as confusion and curiosity battled within you. What on earth was happening?

You glanced around the library, half-expecting to see someone teasing you, but the room remained empty, the silence thick with the weight of ancient knowledge. The sensation pulsed again, rhythmic and insistent, as if someone—something—was touching you beneath your clothes. Your breath caught in your throat, the combination of surprise and intrigue igniting a warmth deep within. You stood up and moved seats, thinking that was the problem, but when the swipe came a second time, you almost screamed. It felt so good, somehow?

With every pulse, the sensation felt more intense and quicker, drawing you deeper into an exhilarating haze. You clenched your thighs together, instinctively searching for relief as you fought to maintain your composure. The rhythmic touches seemed to dance along your most sensitive areas, teasing and inviting with each electric caress.

Your breath hitched as you pressed your legs together, seeking some form of control, but the warmth pooled low in your belly, a heated pressure that was becoming increasingly impossible to ignore. You bit your lip, trying to focus on the paper in front of you, but the words swam before your eyes, fading into the background as your entire being concentrated on the sensation that was almost overwhelming.

What if it was Mountain? The thought sent a shiver through you. You had shared so many lingering glances, those moments charged with unspoken desire. Your brain kept showing you images of him next to you, hands beneath your habit and flicking over your clit so expertly, you were getting closer and closer to the precipice by the second.

Another pulse shot through you, sharper and more insistent than before. You gasped, gripping the edge of the desk for support. Your mind raced, torn between the fantasy of Mountain orchestrating this and the reality of being in the library, surrounded by centuries of knowledge and solitude.

The teasing sensation flickered again, and you could feel it mirroring the rhythm of your heartbeat, tugging at your very core. You could hardly contain yourself; a soft moan escaped your lips, echoing against the high ceilings of the library. The sound startled you, and you quickly glanced around, but there was still no one in sight.

Swallowing hard, you weighed your options. You could leave the library, escape this unexpected spell, or you could embrace it, surrender to the sensations that were taking over your body. The tension in your back seemed to dissipate, replaced by a throbbing warmth that surged through you with every pulse.

You took a deep breath, heart pounding in anticipation. What would happen if you let yourself explore this strange new sensation? What if this was a glimpse into something deeper, something shared with Mountain that had yet to be spoken?

Finally, you settled back into your seat, heart racing as you surrendered to the unknown. With each wave of pleasure, you began to ride the rhythm, feeling the magic course through you. The lines of reality blurred as you imagined Mountain’s hands—strong yet gentle—working their magic on you. The fantasies you had buried deep within began to surface, filling your mind with images of him, of you, lost in a world of desire.

As you surrendered to the sensations, a part of you still wondered how long you could remain in this secret world, caught between the throes of pleasure and the reality of your surroundings. But for now, all that mattered was the intoxicating feeling of the unknown, and the powerful connection that pulsed between you and Mountain, drawing you ever closer.

The sensations grew stronger, more insistent, every pulse of pleasure pushing you closer to the edge. Your grip tightened on the edge of the desk, knuckles white as you fought to keep silent, your breath coming in shallow, shaky gasps. The magical teasing seemed to know exactly where to touch, how to drive you wild without mercy, each wave of pleasure more intense than the last. You could barely focus on anything but the pressure building inside you, hot and unbearable.

Your eyes fluttered closed as you tried to stifle the moans threatening to escape your lips. The last thing you wanted was for anyone to walk in and find you like this, overwhelmed by invisible hands, pleasure coursing through you in the middle of the quiet library. But the thought of being caught only seemed to heighten the thrill, a dangerous mix of arousal and anticipation that made the heat within you coil tighter.

The rhythm became more relentless, the electric pulses caressing your clitoris and sending jolts of pleasure through your entire body. You pressed your thighs together again, trying to ease the tension, but it only made the feeling more intense, more impossible to resist. Your body was trembling, your heart pounding in your chest, your breaths coming in quick, ragged bursts as the wave of ecstasy swelled higher and higher.

Your mind was a blur, filled with images of Mountain—his hands on you, his body pressed against yours. You could almost feel him there, his touch, his breath on your skin. The fantasy had completely taken over, and you no longer cared about anything but the release that was building inside you, stronger and stronger with each passing second.

And then, it hit.

A final pulse, stronger and more intense than before, surged through you, and suddenly, you were there, on the edge of oblivion. You gasped, your back arching as your entire body tensed, the pleasure overwhelming, almost too much to bear. The climax washed over you in powerful waves, each one more intense than the last, leaving you trembling, breathless, your mind utterly consumed by the moment.

Your hands clutched the desk, your thighs clamped together as the pleasure coursed through you, your heart pounding in your ears as you rode the waves of ecstasy. You couldn’t hold back the soft moan that escaped your lips, your body shaking as you finally surrendered to the release you’d been fighting.

For a moment, the world seemed to stop. Everything was still, your mind lost in the afterglow, your body limp and sated. The heat slowly began to ebb away, leaving a warm, languid feeling in its wake. You slumped in your chair, chest heaving, your skin flushed and your limbs heavy. The library was silent once again, save for the sound of your ragged breathing as you came down from the high.

You opened your eyes, still dazed, your body tingling with the remnants of pleasure. The magic had faded, leaving you alone once more. You glanced around, half-expecting someone to have noticed, but the library remained as quiet and still as ever. No one had witnessed your moment of ecstasy, and for that, you were grateful.

Mountain felt the fleshlight twitch in his hands, the silicone pulsing rhythmically under his touch. It was strange, almost unnerving, how lifelike it felt—warm and supple, as though it had a mind of its own. He reasoned it must have been designed that way, engineered to feel as close to the real thing as possible. After all, the material had to have some give; otherwise, it would be difficult to fuck.

But this… this felt different. Too real.

Curiosity burned within him, and without thinking, he removed his thumb from the fleshlight’s clit and slid a finger into the vaginal hole. He half-expected to feel nothing but cold silicone or mechanical resistance, but the moment his fingertip pressed inside, he froze.

“Fuck…” he muttered, his breath catching in his throat.

The interior was silky smooth, impossibly warm, and slick with wetness, as though it had already been perfectly lubricated just for him. His finger sank deeper, and he swore he felt the walls subtly pulse around him, hugging his digit with a grip that sent a jolt of arousal straight through his core. It felt as though he had slipped his finger inside a real pussy—alive, warm, and so damn wet.

It was too much.

The thought hit him like a lightning bolt, sending a rush of blood straight to his length, which was already half-hard, now straining against his trousers. He glanced down, feeling the growing pressure, but his mind couldn’t tear away from the fleshlight and its surreal sensations. His pulse quickened as he slowly curled his finger inside the toy, feeling the textured inner walls respond to his every movement, as if the toy were reacting, pulling him in.

“Holy shit…” he whispered under his breath, barely able to believe what he was experiencing.

The slickness inside only made his cock throb with more need, the pressure building rapidly in his groin. His mind wandered back to the vivid images of you that had plagued him all night. He imagined it wasn’t just his finger inside this magical device, but his cock, sinking deep into that same warmth, feeling your body move beneath him, wrapped around him. He could almost hear the sound of your breath hitching in pleasure, see the way your body would react to every thrust.

His arousal was becoming impossible to ignore, his length now fully hard, aching to be touched. The wetness coating his finger made him desperate to feel more, to know what it would be like to sink himself completely into the impossible magic of this fleshlight.

But something nagged at him in the back of his mind. Why did this feel so different? So personal? It wasn’t just a toy; it was something more, something… connected.

Mountain exhaled sharply, pulling his finger out and wiping it on his trousers as he debated whether to continue. His cock twitched in anticipation, and the need for release was undeniable. He had to know just how far this could go.

His hand drifted to the waistband of his trousers, the decision already made.

You had felt the initial intrusion, the unexpected presence inside you, no thicker than a finger. It wasn’t moving with any intent to please, merely exploring your most intimate space, as if testing the waters, feeling out your warmth. A breath caught in your throat, and you slumped over the desk, your hand flying to your mouth, desperate to stifle the moan that threatened to escape. Your body shivered in response, torn between confusion and the undeniable arousal that was building deep within you.

The slow, teasing movements left you trembling, and while it wasn’t enough to satisfy the aching need between your legs, the anticipation was maddening. You squeezed your thighs together, trying to create some friction, something to ease the growing heat. But the moment you began to settle into the sensation, it stopped. The presence withdrew, and you were left empty, unsatisfied, your slick, needy cunt clenching around nothing.

A soft whimper escaped your lips, muffled by the back of your hand. A part of you was disappointed, frustrated even, that it had left. Your body was throbbing, aching for more—more of whatever that was, more of what it had been building toward. Your pulse was racing, and the quiet library around you suddenly felt too confining, too stifling. You couldn’t stay here, not like this.

Your legs felt weak as you stood, the lingering heat between your thighs making every movement feel laboured. You glanced around the empty room, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks as if someone might have seen your inner turmoil, but the library remained silent and still. The quiet was too much now, the weight of your arousal pressing down on you, urging you to seek relief. You needed more than just that teasing touch; you needed release. And you needed it now.

Quickly, you began packing up your things, your fingers fumbling as you tried to gather your quill and parchment. Your mind was already somewhere else, picturing what awaited you once you could find privacy. The thought of it—of taking care of yourself, of chasing the release that had been cruelly denied in the library—sent a fresh wave of heat through you.

With your belongings hastily stuffed into your bag, you headed toward the door, your breath uneven as you made your way out of the library. The cool air of the hallway did little to calm the fire raging inside you. You had to find somewhere—anywhere—you could be alone and finish what had been started.

Your legs moved quickly beneath you, instinct driving you toward the nearest private space, your heart pounding with anticipation as the memory of that teasing touch replayed in your mind.

You left the library in a hurry, taking a sharp left down the corridor toward your room, your mind laser-focused on finding relief. Each step was torture, your knees weak and trembling, barely able to support your body as the weight of your arousal pressed down on you. The cool air of the hallway did nothing to ease the growing heat between your thighs, and you quickened your pace, desperate to reach the privacy of your room.

But just as you rounded the corner, a new sensation hit you.

Dread pooled in your stomach as you felt your folds part, something heavy and hard sliding between them. You gasped, eyes widening in shock, feeling a thick pressure press against your clit. It wasn’t the slow, teasing touch from before—it was urgent, insistent, and so overwhelmingly real that you couldn’t hold back the shaky moan that escaped your lips. The sensation was distracting, too distracting, and in your attempt to keep moving, you stumbled.

Your legs gave out beneath you, and with a gasp, you fell to the ground, your belongings scattering across the wooden floor. Pens, paper and books slipped from your grasp, your bag tumbling open as you struggled to regain control of your body. The thick presence between your legs remained, rubbing insistently against your clit with every movement, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you as you lay there, heart racing and breath ragged.

Your hands shot down instinctively, as though to push whatever it was away, but there was nothing tangible, nothing you could grasp. It was as if some invisible force was teasing you, pressing into you with an unrelenting rhythm that made it impossible to think straight.

You tried to stand, pushing yourself up with trembling arms, but the pleasure was so intense that you collapsed again, your knees refusing to support your weight. Another shudder ran through you, your body betraying you as the rubbing against your clit continued, the sensation almost unbearable. You squeezed your thighs together, but it only seemed to make it worse, the pressure building with every second.

“Fuck…” you whispered, your voice barely more than a breathless gasp. You had no control over your body anymore. The sensation between your legs had taken over, and all you could do was grip the floor beneath you, helpless against the mounting pleasure.

The hallway was empty, but you were still exposed, vulnerable. You needed to get up, needed to reach your room where you could finally give in to what your body craved. But as another pulse of pleasure shot through you, you weren’t sure you’d even make it.

A stroke of luck emerged, catching your eye in the midst of your frantic struggle—the door to a cleaning closet, left slightly ajar. Relief mixed with desperation as you quickly gathered your scattered belongings, your hands shaking as you scrambled to your feet. You couldn’t make it much further; your knees were barely holding you upright as it was, and the relentless pressure between your thighs was making it impossible to think straight.

Without a second thought, you rushed toward the open door, heart pounding in your chest. As soon as you stumbled inside, you slammed it shut behind you, pressing your back against the wood. There was no lock, but if you could just stay quiet—if you could hold out here for a few moments—you might make it through this without being caught. The small space was dimly lit, filled with shelves of cleaning supplies, and the air smelled faintly of soap and lavender.

You barely had time to catch your breath before it happened.

A sharp, overwhelming sensation took hold of you as you felt something push into you—deep, filling your already throbbing, aching hole. The intrusion was sudden, and you gasped, your hand flying to your mouth to muffle the cry of pleasure that threatened to burst out. It was thick, stretching you in a way that was both shocking and satisfying, as though whatever it was had been waiting for this moment, waiting for you to be alone, vulnerable, and desperate.

It was definitely a cock - but it was fucking huge.

Mountain sank into the fleshlight, a low, guttural groan escaping his lips as the tightness enveloped him. He was a big man in every sense of the word, and his length was no exception—thick, heavy, and aching for relief. As he pressed deeper, the silicone walls yielded, but only just enough, hugging him in a way that felt almost too real. The sensation was overwhelming, warm and snug, gripping him with the perfect balance of resistance and give, as though the toy had been made just for him.

His breath hitched as he sank further, the heat surrounding him sending shivers down his spine. Every inch of him was enveloped in that wet, warm tightness, and it felt like nothing he’d ever experienced before. His hips rolled instinctively, testing the limits of the toy’s grip, and the way it clung to him made his cock throb with need. It was almost maddening how good it felt—too good, in fact. The slickness inside, combined with the soft, textured ridges, made every movement feel as though he was buried deep inside something alive.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his hands tightening around the base of the fleshlight as his hips moved again, slower this time, savouring the way it squeezed him with every thrust.

The heat, the wetness, the way it pulsed around him—it was almost too much to bear. He couldn’t help but picture you, the way your body would feel wrapped around him like this, clenching down on him, pulling him in. The thought of you, mixed with the intensity of the sensation, made his control slip. His pace quickened, driven by the growing pressure building in his groin, his need for release clawing at him.

Each thrust into the toy felt more urgent, the friction deliciously overwhelming. He could feel the tension building, his length throbbing inside the slick, tight tunnel. Every stroke was bringing him closer to the edge, the pleasure so intense it made his vision blur. The way the fleshlight clung to him was impossibly real, and the thought of sinking into your warmth instead made his pulse race even faster.

He was too far gone to stop now, completely lost in the sensation, the need for release overtaking him as his hips bucked into the toy with reckless abandon.

Your legs gave out entirely, and you collapsed against the shelves, your body trembling as the force inside you began to move. Slow, deliberate strokes, in and out, dragging along your sensitive walls and making you shudder with each thrust. You bit down on your hand, trying to stay quiet, but the sensation was so intense, so perfectly maddening, that small, helpless whimpers slipped past your lips despite your best efforts.

The sensation wasn’t just physical; it was connected. Every movement inside you felt purposeful, like whoever—or whatever—was controlling this was in sync with your body, knowing exactly how to make you fall apart. Your pussy clenched around it, soaking wet, the slickness only making the thrusts more fluid, more relentless.

Your breath came in shallow, ragged gasps, the rhythm of your body matching the relentless thrusts that were driving you closer and closer to the edge. Each stroke pushed deeper, dragging against your most sensitive spots, and the heat building inside you was becoming unbearable. Your mind was spinning, the world around you fading into a blur as the pressure inside you mounted, thick and heavy.

You could feel yourself trembling, your body taut with anticipation, the pleasure coiling tighter with every thrust. Your nails dug into your palms, a desperate attempt to ground yourself, to hold on just a little longer—but it was no use.

It felt so good.

Too good.

You sat up a little and spread your legs, pulling your panties off from beneath your habit and throwing them somewhere in the dark, your middle finger immediately moving to your swollen and sensitive clit. Rubbing furiously at it, you let out a loud gasp, the feeling of the cock fucking into you, now at a violent pace. You grasped onto the shelf behind you with your free hard, trying to find something to ground you as much as possible, but nothing was working. Something invisible was pounding relentlessly into your cunt, using your body for their own pleasure and you were so wound up tight - you liked it.

Your body was already betraying you, your pussy tightening around the force inside you as the tension built to a breaking point. It was hitting all the right spots, fucking into you like no one else had managed to before. You bit on your bottom lip trying to remain quiet, but at this point your moans and pants were coming out so loudly, you were sure passers by could hear you.

Mountain’s breath was ragged as he thrust into the fleshlight, his large hands gripping it tightly, the soft silicone giving way under his force but clinging to him in the most maddening way. His head tipped back, eyes fluttering shut as the slickness inside seemed to pulse in time with his movements. Every stroke felt too real, too perfect—as if it were more than just a toy, something alive and responding to him.

His cock was fully buried now, his hips rolling slowly at first, but the tightness had him on edge, making it impossible to hold back. His groans grew louder, deep and rough, as he set a more urgent pace. The fleshlight gripped him harder, the wet warmth inside making every stroke smoother, more fluid, but also more intense. It felt better than it should have, the sensation almost too much for him to handle.

“Fuck…” he hissed under his breath, his length throbbing with need. Each thrust sent a pulse of pleasure through his body, his mind clouded with desire as he imagined you beneath him instead. The way you would look, your body writhing in pleasure as he buried himself inside you, the soft sounds of your moans filling the air. The thought made his cock twitch inside the toy, his pace quickening as he lost himself in the fantasy.

But then, something strange happened.

The fleshlight pulsed. It wasn’t just responding to his thrusts anymore—it was as if it had a life of its own, squeezing him, rippling around his length in a way that was too real, too connected. His eyes flew open, a gasp escaping him as he stilled for a moment, looking down at the toy in his hands.

“What the…?”

He felt it again, the sensation tightening, as if the fleshlight was reacting not to his body, but to something else entirely. The pulsing grew stronger, almost rhythmic, and it sent a jolt of pleasure through him so intense he nearly doubled over. He could feel the slick walls inside moving, as though mimicking the contractions of an actual body—your body.

Mountain’s heart raced, his mind spinning. There was no way this was just a toy anymore. He could feel it—feel you—somehow, in some way. It was impossible, but there was no denying the connection. The more he moved, the more the fleshlight reacted, tightening around him with each thrust, sending shockwaves of pleasure straight to his core.

His hips bucked involuntarily, the sensations overtaking him, his mind now filled with images of you. He imagined you trembling, the way your body would shake as he pushed into you, the look of desperation in your eyes as you tried to hold back your release. His pace became frantic, thrusting into the toy with abandon, the tight, wet warmth driving him to the edge.

He was so close. He could feel his orgasm building, his entire body tensing with the need for release. The pulsing around his cock grew more intense, as though it were pulling him deeper, milking him for everything he had.

“Fuck…” he groaned your name, unable to stop himself now. He was lost in the sensation, lost in the thought of you, the connection between you both tightening with every second.

You could feel the climax rushing toward you, unstoppable, consuming every part of you. And as the force inside you thrust again, harder this time, it finally sent you over the edge.

A wave of pure ecstasy crashed over you, the intensity of your orgasm ripping through you in shuddering waves. Your walls clenched down around the presence inside you, your body convulsing as pleasure coursed through you, lighting up every nerve. The release was overwhelming, and you bit down harder on your hand, stifling the moan that tore from your throat as your climax consumed you.

But the relentless pounding didn’t stop. Whoever was fucking you wasn’t done with you just yet.

Mountain felt you reach your peak, the pulsing sensation inside the fleshlight intensifying to a point that left him breathless. The way your body clenched around him, as if you were riding the wave of ecstasy, sent a jolt of raw pleasure straight to his core. He could almost hear your moans, soft and desperate, echoing in his mind as he envisioned you lost in your climax, your body trembling beneath him.

With every thrust, he was drawn closer to the edge, the need for release building within him like a tidal wave, crashing and surging. The connection felt electric, transcending the physical boundaries of your separate spaces, and it was almost overwhelming. As you shuddered in pleasure, he could feel the warmth radiating from the fleshlight, as if it were feeding off your climax, drawing him in.

“Fuck!” he groaned, his voice thick with desire. The fleshlight tightened around him, almost as if it was responding to your release, and the sensation drove him wild. He could feel the heat pooling in his stomach, a primal urge that had him gasping for air.

As you soared through your orgasm, he couldn’t hold back any longer. He thrust deeper, faster, losing himself completely in the moment. The world around him faded away, the only thing that mattered was the relentless pleasure coursing through him, the sensation of the silicone hugging him so tightly that it felt almost like a second skin.

With one final, powerful thrust, he reached his own peak. A wave of ecstasy crashed over him, his body convulsing as he spilled himself into the fleshlight. A deep, guttural groan escaped his lips as he rode out the intense waves of pleasure, feeling as if he were floating in a sea of bliss.

His hips stuttered as he felt the last tremors of his release, each pulse sending shockwaves of satisfaction through him. The connection, the overwhelming sensations—it was all too much, and he reveled in it, letting it consume him entirely.

Panting, he collapsed back against the bed, still reeling from the intensity of it all. The fleshlight lay discarded beside him, the warmth and slickness inside a reminder of the wild connection they had just shared. He could still feel the lingering echoes of your climax intertwining with his own, leaving him breathless and yearning for more.

What had just happened? It felt like more than just a fantasy—it felt like something deeper, something that blurred the lines of reality and desire. He found himself staring at the ceiling, a mix of confusion and exhilaration coursing through him. The next time he saw you, everything would change.

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sunset-curve-fantom · 30 days ago

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Oklahoma Skies- Tyler Owens x Reader

Let me know what you guys think! I am slowly getting back into writing.

WARNING; SMUT 18+

The wind stood still, as you leaned against your front porch. The sunset haze makes the sky the most beautiful shades of orange and pink. The air light and leaves softly blowing in the wind. Tornado season was something you loved yet feared.

Terrified, the storms would hit you, but also bring the most beautiful skies after something so violent.

A warm arm swooped around your waist, tugging you close. A small smile graced your features as you leaned onto your boyfriend’s chest. The tornado wrangler himself, Tyler Owens. He chased the beauty in the storms, and you chased the sunsets following.

But this tornado season was wicked, full of untamed storms taking out multiple towns throughout Oklahoma. The damage was astounding. Which also meant Tyler was away for longer periods, chasing them.

“Where’s your mind? I can see it racing” he murmured into your ear, pressing a soft kiss under your ear.

One thing about this man was he could always see your mood, whether he was next to you or hundreds of miles away. He was fully entuned with what was bothering you at any time. He could read you the way he reads his storms.

“Just watching the sky. Have a feeling a storm is coming in” you said softly. You may not be a tornado wrangler yourself, but you were born and raised in Oklahoma. The changes in the weather were something you had come to read easily.

He chuckled under his breath. “I love when you get those feelings, Crazy Girl”

The nickname made a soft blush erupt on your face. He termed you that last year when a tornado was coming into town, and you proceeded to chase a cat to save them instead of taking cover. Tyler had to chase you, and the cat, holding you both against him as he hauled you to the storm shelter.

It was the first time he realized that you feared storms, but also wanted to save everything in its path. Your home, your friends, your family were the priority even when something so destructive was heading towards you.

His phone vibrated; he brought the screen into view of the both of you.

“Tornado is a brewing; Cells forming in the south” the text message read from Boone.

You softly groaned knowing that the time Tyler was home, now was coming to an end. You knew storm chasing was his life, but sometimes you just wanted to hold him close to your heart and never let him go.

He kissed the back of your head softly, “Gotta grab my things, Crazy Girl”

You nodded knowing that you had chosen this crazy life with him, but also felt with such worry every time he left the house following a storm. But nonetheless, you had the same routine every time he left.

Pulling open the screen door, you grabbed his go bag. It was his holy grail, and had everything extra in this world he may need. Including underwear, because in your words “If I was in a tornado, I might actively shit myself”.

He sighed, changing into his cowboy boots. Throwing on his hat, getting ready to load into the truck.

Stepping out onto the porch, he followed you. He pulled you close, pressing a soft kiss to your hair. You clung to him with such love and force. This was the hardest part of any season, willingly letting him walk into storms and away from you.

“You stay safe, I love you too much” you murmured into his shoulder. Tears pricked your eyes knowing he was heading into the craziness of a storm.

He just chuckled, smiling down at you. You knew he was always safe, that he would always find his way back to you. But storms are ever changing, you never know what might happen when he is chasing.

“I am always safe you know that. I promise I will come back to you.” he said, pressing a kiss hard to your lips. Taking in the moment like it was the last one he would ever experience.

He picked up his go bag, stepping off the porch. “I love you Crazy Girl”

Winds began picking up faster, the sky beginning to darken, taking away the most beautiful sunrise. The rain began falling, thunder echoing through the sky with lightning streaking the sky.

Rain began to soak Tyler's white shirt as he walked away from you. You could start to see his tanned skin through the wet material.

The way his shirt was clinging to him, made you weak in the knees. You wanted nothing more than to follow him and drag him back to bed with you.

Ripping his soaked white tee from his chiseled muscles. You were pulled from your fantasy by the blaring of the tornado warning. The storm must have shifted, it was coming towards town.

Your feet carried you off the porch as the panic began to set in, quickly finding your voice, "Tyler"

He whipped around, his features watching the fear on your face as he quickly made his way towards you. He grabbed your hand, pulling you towards the storm shelter.

You both caught a view of the horizon; you could see the dark, swirling line of clouds coming your way. A sense of unease filled the pits of your stomach as Tyler pulled you faster behind him.

You knew the signs; you knew this storm was going to be absolutely vicious seeing how fast it changed directions and grew in the sky.

Panic rose in your chest as he pulled open the storm shelter, rushing you inside with ease. “It’s okay Crazy Girl, just breathe” he murmured as he locked the door behind you.

The wind was whipping outside at no mercy, you knew this storm was going to be something different for you both. It came to you, instead of Tyler chasing it miles away.

You were drawn from your thoughts with Tyler pulling you gently down onto the mattress with him. He knew you were terrified; he knew the panic you were feeling.

The glint in his eyes when you looked at him brought you comfort, knowing that he was going to protect you no matter where this storm took you.

“Hi crazy girl” he murmured catching your lips softly, his warm hand finding its way into your hair, gently pulling.

A soft moan escaped your lips, knowing he was trying to clear your mind. This was his go to move whenever a storm headed your way.

Being tangled up with him always made the storm disappear in your mind.

That’s how the mattress ended up in the storm shelter in the first place.

Your hands found their way to the brim of his hat, carefully pulling it off his head. Hands finding their way to his hair.

Lips breaking apart, he slowly started nipping at your earlobe, placing soft kisses to your neck finding your sweet spot.

Softly sucking, a moan escaped your lips. You felt him smile against your skin.

His hands trailed along your hips, finding their way to the hem of your shirt pulling it over your head.

Clothes fell from both of you, as your hands explored each other. Your exposed skin drawing each other in.

Lust filling your senses as you pushed him down softly, taking his hardened length in your hand.

“You gonna ride me crazy girl?” he said, his grip on you hard as he pulled you in his lap. His length rubbing against your wet cunt.

You smirked, bringing your lips to his. Kissing him hungrily as you grinded your hips into him. The pressure from his hardened cock, making you desperate for him to be deep inside of you.

Breaking the kiss, you grabbed his cock slowly lowering yourself onto him. Your eyes rolling back as his large girth stretched you out.

“Fuck baby” he hissed, grabbing hard onto your hips slamming the rest of the way into you. A hard moan escaping your lips.

The sounds of slapping skin filled the shelter loudly, blocking out any remaining sounds of the storm. “You’re taking me so good, so deep inside of you”

“Fuck me” you moaned throwing your head back as he abused your cunt. The rough thrusts reaching every crevice you could ever imagine. Your tight cunt throbbing around him with every thrust he delivered.

His hands found your waist again, flipping you over so he could slam into you once more. Your eyes fell shut as he slammed into your cervix, moans falling off your lips echoing through the room.

The pace unrelenting, he continued to fuck you hard and deep as you were coming unraveled below him.

“S So B-Big" you moaned, nails scratching against his exposed back as your felt the fireworks building in your stomach.

“You’re close, I can feel you” he moaned, his grip continuing to tighten around your exposed skin pulling you against him.

A smirk crossed your features, as his catchphrase came to mind, “If you feel it, chase it” you moaned against his lips.

A smile crossed his face, as his pace picked up once more and his hand finding your clit. Your entire body began to shake, your orgasm overtaking you as you tightened around his length.

Tyler moaned loudly, the warmth of his seed filling you. The both of you seeing stars from your overwhelming orgasm.

He pulled you close to him as he settled next to you, “I’ll protect you no matter the storm” he murmured softly as sleep overcame your senses.

And for once, the panic didn’t rise in your chest. You felt peace among the tornadoes.

#tyler owens x kate carter #tyler owens x y/n #tyler owens smut #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens #tyler owens imagines #tyler owens x you #tyler owens x fem!reader #twisters 2024 #twisters movie #twisters #tyler owens twisters #tyler x kate #javi rivera #kate carter

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cindyss · 8 months ago

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• - PHYSICAL TOUCH - •

PAIRING(S): theodore nott x fem. reader !!

WARNING(S): use of y/n? swearing, fighting, kissing, drinking, fingering.

SUMMARY: at a party, theodore gets into a fight with a guy dancing with y/n, and she somehow ends up in his bed later that night.

A/N: this is my first time ever writing something like this so lmk if i can do anything to improve this !!

——————————————————

After winning the quidditch match against Hufflepuffs, the Slytherins decided to throw a party, all houses invited, to celebrate their win.

You and your homegirls all got dressed up and ready for the party, and as you entered the room, attention was grasped from all 4 houses.

Your short black dress fit your curves perfectly which made everyone’s heads turn toward you, boys and girls, Ravenclaws and Slytherins, anyone and everyone.

You grab a few drinks and talk to a handful of people as the alcohol hadn’t kicked in yet and you weren’t in the mood to dance. On your way to grab another drink, a tall figure pushes you hard and you fall down.

You hear a “shit” from someone underneath you. Fuck. You had landed on someone’s lap, you turn your head and to your surprise, its theodore.

Now, you didnt exactly like the boy, he would always find ways to talk about your actions or make rude and mean comments about anything he could.

You apologized as you felt him tense under you and as you tried to get up, he pulled you back in to his lap, “maybe i like where you are sweetheart”.

“You stupid drunk fuck,” you laughed “i could punch you right now”

“I do love physical touch darling” he replies

You then giggle as you jump up from his lap. One of your friends then pulls you into the dancing circle. The alcohol had started to kick in and in a few minutes you were dancing your heart out.

Suddenly, you feel someone’s hand on your waist, the Hufflepuffs’ quidditch captain. He was tall, and attractive so you decided to go with flow and danced with him. Suddenly you feel his hand rip off from your waist and he’s on the floor in no longer than 3 seconds.

Theodore nott came storming and punched him hard, which caused the poor boy to come crashing down on the floor. “oh my god!” You gasp, loud.

The brunette then grabs your hand and leads you out the crowd that had formed around the scene. Once you were outside, he gave you no time before leading you back to his dorm.

When you get there his anger has disappeared, it has been replaced with a feeling you can’t quite catch. You immediately start speaking, “what the actual fuck nott! Why would you do that? You hurt the boy really bad!”

“Holy fuck you are beautiful, you are actually breathtaking woah” he says.

“You are so drunk oh my lord.”

“I didn’t drink y/n”

“Wh-“ and before you could finish, he pushed you to the wall and started kissing you hungrily.

Fucking hell.

Theodore then placed his hand on your thigh and gave it a little squeeze earning a little gasp from you and a chance to slip his tongue in which you welcomed it.

The Slytherin boy then helped you get rid of your dress leaving just your panties on before laying you on the bed. He kept kissing you then moved to your neck and started leaving kisses everywhere including you breasts and stomach.

“You are so beautiful oh my dear god.” to that, you giggled.

“I guess you do like physical touch then nott,” you tease.

Theodore then took his time removing your panties to reveal your already wet pussy. “So wet already, baby you’re so perfect holy fucking fuck.”

He then spread your legs further and started teasing you “listen to me nott, if you don’t do something right now, i will.” That made the boy go crazy which made him start eating you out like a starved man.

Your breath was heavy, it was the only sound heard in the room, you also tugged at his hair which made him go faster and harder.

You’ve never felt this before, he was so desperate, like he’s never done this before, like he can’t get enough.

“Theo, im gonna.. Theodore im about to” and just like that, he pulls out. “Not that easy beautiful, im not done just yet.”

“Oh you fucking tease” you say.

He smiles and then suddenly in a quick movement, two of his fingers are inside you, you slap your hands on your mouth to cover the sounds that might leave it.

Theo then removes you hand “scream all you want darling, i wanna hear it, i wanna hear you say my name”

“Theooo” you coo.

His movements start getting faster and he adds a third finger, “theooo god dammit”

“y/n, you need to learn to never touch a man thats not me ever again or else i will fucking rip his eyes out, i will break both of his arms off, say that youre mine”

“mhmm” you mumble as waves of pleasure took over you body.

“Use your words baby” he says as he speeds his movement.

“Im all yours theo, all yours, no one else, just you.”

“Good girl, now do it, cum on me” he replies.

“FUCKKK, GODDD.. THEOOO” you scream as you release onto his fingers.

He then carefully removes his fingers from inside of you before licking your cum off his fingers. “Fuck you taste amazing” he says before jumping up and turning the shower on to clean you up.

later..

After getting all cleaned up, theo pulls you on top of him and covers you both with the blanket, “i think i do like physical touch, just from you y/n”.

You kissed his chin in response giggling before slowing falling asleep embraced in his arms.

#theodore nott #theodore nott fanfiction #slytherin #harry potter #smut

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sordidmusings · 1 year ago

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Thirsty Thursday with Pissed Off Buggy

A/N: Since I've felt like the Buggy I've been writing has been leaning more consistently towards sub, I wanted to spend some time with dom Buggy. Gotta get the best of both worlds! I'll eventually spend time writing him as a softer dom but my brain said "no make him fuckin ruthless" so this happened lol should work for either anime or live action

Word Count: ~1.3k

Warnings: afab!reader, NSFW like a lot, has like lightly angsty peripheral plot (a misunderstanding has Buggy in a jealous rage), pretty strong degradation, overstimulation, p in v, rough treatment, he technically steps on you, creampie, dub-con if you squint? (boundaries neared but none crossed), slight dumbification, holy shit that sounds like a lot written out like that 🧍🏻‍♀️

Well, soups on! Enjoy the meal lol

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

“Can’t!” you gasped out, “Too -aaah- much, ‘s too much.”

“Too damn bad. Now shut the fuck up,” Buggy snarled from behind you, where he kept his fast and forceful thrusts going. Each impact seemed to rattle through your whole body, and there was no reprieve from his thick dick splitting you open, even though he pulled far enough back for only his head to stay in you each time. He’s been at this for awhile now, the friction long since turned from sparks on kindling to rabid flames burning through all of your senses. The heart of the blaze was still strongly centered in your endlessly clenching cunt and swollen clit, kept alive by the rub of his cock and the slap of his balls on every thrust in.

“B-but Buggyyyy,” you whined, long and pathetic, struggling to get the words out after yet another orgasm wrung out your body. You couldn’t focus enough to keep from drooling on the desk below you, let alone find the words to placate him.

“I said,” he hissed, gloved fingers of a detached hand digging into your cheeks and jaw, “shut. UP.”

Those fingers dragged painfully across your skin before shoving their way into your mouth. You gagged hard when they pressed on the back of your tongue, but it only rewarded Buggy with your body bucking frantically against him. Your movements couldn’t get you very far, not with the way one of his detached, booted feet stepped down between your shoulder blades, pinning your chest so hard that you couldn’t fully inhale.

“Muuuuch better,” he taunted snidely. “That mouth is better full don’t you think? Keeps your dumb whore lips from seducing other men.”

You cried around his fingers at the accusation, needing him to know it wasn’t true. In his bid to grasp and control every part of you he could, he’s taken from you any way that you could reassure him.

Everything was so fuzzy and blended together. The onslaught of pleasure from his pounding hips and crushing hold, the lack of oxygen making your body tingle and mind fray, and the raging emotions of hurt and want storming together through you. You clung desperately to the fabric of your mind to endure it while the gales gripped you and tugged in every direction.

Buggy’s mind was already lost. He had let it go the moment he'd seen you trail a hand up that man’s chest and lead it behind his head to play with his baby hairs. Buggy knew what every detail of that felt like, how good it felt, and he was ready to start ripping everything around him apart because only he was allowed to feel that. Only him.

Now he is only instinct and impulse and all of it is bent on owning every piece of you. He’s split apart, pushing, shoving, grasping, and pinning every inch of you to keep you to himself. His whole being was insistent against you but nothing more so than his thick cock, which had bullied you into overstimulation for what felt like hours. Untethered from both feet, Buggy was free to use any angle or force that he wanted. Your body tried its best to take and process what he was doing to you, but it had quickly given up, leaving you limp and drooling under him. Seeing your full submission to him had a bolt of lightning shred through him. This is what he needs. He needs you to fold to the fact that you’re his - his to know and touch and fuck and own. Buggy needed to possess you and he needed to hoard your affection the most. You gave it to him and the thought that you might take it back had him violent in the need to defend his position with you.

After holding out through your endless milking of his cock, Buggy was starting to lose the battle to keep fucking you for eternity. He tried to hide it but he was trembling under the pressure of his oncoming orgasm. His thighs shook through every slam into you, his fingers in your hair and on your tongue were jerking in their grip, and his cock and balls throbbed so hard that he was sure you’d be able to feel it on your skin if you weren’t fucked so dumb.

“If I fuck you full will that keep you happy, little slut?” He sneered. You moaned loud around his fingers, sucking and swallowing for him. “That was it huh? My cocksleeve wasn’t getting enough use, so it was stupid enough to think SOMEONE ELSE could fuck it.” The way he broke into a yell was slightly terrifying but you couldn't deny that it had you gripping him like a vice. The delicious feeling had him fall onto his elbows above you.

“Fuck -hah- you’re so fucking stupid,” Buggy barked. His rage was palpable but you knew him well enough to hear the traces of hurt underneath.

His foot had moved from your back to press the side of your head down so that he could take its place. He kept switching between mean bites and sucking marks and pressing his forehead hard into your spine, smearing the remnants of his makeup on you. Despite the rough behavior, there was some comfort in having more of his touch blazing over you.

His hips finally began to falter.

“Gonna fuck you full of me and never leave you empty -shit- you’re gonna have to walk everywhere with my cock plugged in you now.” With each phrase, Buggy was panting more, lost in the idea of never leaving your pussy. “Any time you so much as look at anyone else I’ll press so deep in you it hurts,” he promised darkly. “I don’t care who the fuck is around, I’ll fuck you ‘til you’re screaming and crying for me, understand?”

He pulls his fingers from your mouth for you to sob out a “yes” before shoving them right back in.

“Good whore, good -hunnngh- good fucking whore,” Buggy groaned, punching each word into you with a strong clap of his hips on your ass. His arms slid to wrap around you without him telling them to and he knew he was done for. He growls out, “You better cum as a thank you, slut” before he bit into the meat of your shoulder hard.

You had absolutely no power or will to disobey him. Even with how swollen and sore you were, the orgasm was blissful and warm and everything you wanted. It peaked over all the others he’d forced from you tonight due to the strong grinds of his flicking cock into you. They turned the near painful abuse of your cervix into a delicious rub that kept your clit throbbing and your hips twitching and jerking. Your eyes had long since rolled back and you were screaming loud enough for it to escape the room, even with your stuffed mouth. You were so lost in your own bliss that you hardly registered the death grip Buggy had on you or the way he kept groaning deeply into your shoulder.

Buggy’s teeth let you go and his hand finally left your mouth for good, letting you gasp in air that had your overworked body prickling with static. Though enough time passed for him to finish wiping all the tears off your face, Buggy stayed hidden in the nape of your neck.

The moment you had enough oxygen in you, you pant out, “Don't want him. Was just info- getting info. Only want you.” He held you a touch tighter. “Promise, promise.”

Still too raw and unsure to say anything, Buggy responded by placing a kiss to the angry impression his teeth had left on you. It was a start.

#sorry not sorry #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown #opla buggy #one piece #thirsty thursday #thirst hours #my writing #afab reader #x reader

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knockoffheart · 4 months ago

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newest member of the seven (1/6)

summary: you are the newest member of the seven, you have been working there for about 6 months. you are considered a rookie and only used for media — today is the day that changes.

warnings: it’s a “The Boys” fanfic… blood, gore, swearing, nudity, etc. Intended for 18+ ONLY, this chapter contains no smut. ALSO i write for myself and am low key new to writing so lower all expectations. <3

before you read: this story is written in second person, she/her pronouns are used, reader has female genitalia and identifies as female. the character is never referred to by name , but is a supe called “Replicate”, she has power-copying abilities.

***

Even though you’ve been working at Vought HQ for months, everyone still sees you as the rookie. Honestly, you are — you’ve stopped a handful of crimes that barely made the nightly news, it’s nothing compared to what the other members of the Seven do on a weekly basis.

The only member of the Seven who pays who any mind is Starlight, she really is America’s Sweetheart. You go to her for advice about how to get invited on missions, how to get Homelander’s approval, how to get Queen Maeve to even look at you.

“Worming your way into the hearts of people is your strength — keep that up and I’m sure you’ll be joining us on missions in no time” the blonde hums out. She gives you a soft smile and squeezes your shoulders, you swear you see a glint of worry behind her eyes. Before you can say anything she heads off to the meeting room, you hear the start of a conversation but the doors close before you can make anything out. Sighing, you try to pull your phone out of your suit — tight as it is you manage to wiggle around enough to free it. You absentmindedly open up the first app that catches your eye, before you can even start scrolling an ad covers the screen. You move your finger towards the tiny ‘x’ but before you can press it—

‘VOUGHTS NEWEST SHOW — REPLICATE: COPY THIS’

“Holy shit…” you whisper to yourself, your smirk working its way to a full on grin. Your face stares back at you. They had you pose seductively with a mirror, your real face and the one in the mirror look toward the camera, a sultry pout on each of them. You swipe off the app and open up the latest hero polls.

HERO POLLS - UPDATED: 3hrs ago

Number 1 - Homelander

Obviously… you continue to scroll. Starlight is number two and number three is… Replicate. Your eyes widen in shock, you’re more popular than half of the Seven! Homelander certainly has to take you seriously now. You scroll up and see Queen Maeve, the picture they used is great. Her hair perfectly frames her face, alluring eyes staring back at you and her costume really frames her—

“Hey! Replicate! Get your ass over to the studio before I have to put a fucking Xerox in your seat instead.” Ashley. Great. You roll your eyes and tuck your phone back into your suit before turning around with a forced smile.

“Right. The interview. Sorry.” you force out through gritted teeth as you start to make your way to the elevator. Ashely grabs your forearm and pulls you back.

“Wait! You have to touch this fucking sparkly twink first.” she motions to a thin blonde standing behind her, absolutely covered in glitter.

“Production wants you to have this glitter power for the interview— saves us money.” She smirks at you. The blonde man limply flicks his hand towards you, a blast of glitter hits you in the face. You grab his hand and squeeze it a little too hard before tossing it down and storming towards the elevator. You wipe at your face trying to brush away all the glitter.

—

“There’s no ‘dupe’ for this supe! Am I right?” the interviewer grins, leaning over the desk towards the audience. They respond in wild, energetic cheer and you even hear an ‘I LOVE YOU REPLICATE!’ from someone in the back. The interviewer squawks with laughter, clapping and settling down in his seat before turning towards you.

“Well, I’d say that’s a pretty clear answer. Now, Replicate, any last things you’d like to say about your upcoming show?”

“Let’s just say this show will really show everyone my sparkle.“ you gracefully move your arms over yourself and a dusting of glitter rains over you before soaring to the audience. They burst into gleeful screams, scooping of handfuls of glitter up and shoving it into their pockets, purses, and ugh one creep is even putting some in their mouth. The interview ends and you wrap up the last few selfies with those fans who paid god knows how much to get this close to you.

—

You start your trek to your room, staring down at your phone the whole way. As you turn a corner you bump into something solid. You look up from your phone and are met with a chest, you look up a little further, Queen Maeve’s chest.

“Jesus. Watch where you’re going.” the redhead groans, staring down at you. You open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out, you only let out a shaky breath.

“Queen Maeve! I- Oh. I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking, I just came from an interview for my new show and-“ the words spill out of your mouth faster than you can understand them. She lets out a soft laugh and crosses her arms.

“Yeah I heard all about that new show of yours — you’ve even surpassed me in polls.” Her eyes are piercing but she’s wearing a slight smirk. You open your mouth but quickly shut it. Looking down and running your hands through your hair, trying to regain some dignity you take a deep breath.

“I did?” you let out and forced laugh “ It’s probably a mistake or glitch, you’re way better than me! I don’t even go on missions, I’m just a personality hire really-“

“Okay, okay! Calm down, you’re doing fine. I don’t give a shit about those stupid polls.”

Your smile drops and you quickly shut off your phone, putting it back in your suit. You look up at her nodding, “Yeah. They’re dumb!” you agree reluctantly.

“ I didn’t mean it like that..” she rubs her forehead and works her way through her hair, “I was never good at that sort of thing. Public Opinion.” she groans.

“I would never have guessed. I mean you and Homelander are such a power couple.”

“Yeah. The people really love him.”

“They love you too Maeve.” you smile and touch her arm, “Who wouldn’t?”.

“Thank you. That means a lot, really.” she smiles down at you, her hand is now resting on yours. She seems unaware she’s tracing small circles with her fingertip. She takes in a deep breath and speaks, “I’ve been an asshole to you. I know it seems like for no reason but-“.

Before she can finish her sentence you feel a gloved hand grip your shoulder, hard. You hold your breath and copy Maeve’s powers, almost instinctively. The grip on your shoulder begins to hurt a lot less. Maeve’s face drops to its usual stoic self, you realize her hand is no longer on yours.

“Queen Maeve and Rep-Li-Cate! I didn’t know we were having a party. Did my invitation get lost in the mail?” Homelander hums. Although he’s smiling, the grip on your shoulder is tightening. You turn around and look up meekly, he restores his firm grasp, blue eyes staring intensely down at you. You stutter out the beginning of his name before Maeve cuts in.

“Homelander. I was just about to ask Replicate here for some advice on boosting myself in the polls. She’s climbing up pretty quickly.” Her smile is clearly fake, but she doesn’t seem to care. Her hands rest on your shoulders as she stands behind you. You can’t tell if it’s protective or if she is offering you up to Homelander as some sort of sacrifice. The smile on his face twitches as he looks down at Maeve’s hand on top of his.

“I could never be number one like you, Homelander, you’re America’s savior.” you speak clearly, for what felt like the first time since running into Maeve. You swear you feel her grip tighten when you say ‘savior’.

“Well, yes.” Homelander regains control of his smirk, “Thank you.” He starts to trail away, Maeve takes her hands off your shoulders and grabs your wrist, before she can take a step Homelander turns around.

“You know, Replicate, I think it’s about time you went on your first mission. Join our meeting tomorrow. Of course, only if you’re able to.” He waves goodbye, but does not make a move to leave, instead he watches as Maeve drags you down the hall towards the elevator.

“T-thank you sir!” is all you manage to get out before you’re pulled into the elevator, pressed against Maeve. She pushes the button to your room so hard it dents the panel. Before you can say anything she corners you. She stares down at you, brows furrowed, trying to catch her breath. You hadn’t known she lost it in the first place.

“Queen Maeve, wha-“ before you can finish, her palm clamps over your mouth silencing you. You stare up at her, bewildered. It feels like hours before the door opens to your floor. She shakes her head ‘no’ and removes her hand from your mouth. She steps into your room and places her hands on either side of her head, rubbing her temples.

“Queen Mae-“ you whisper.

She cuts you off, “Maeve. Please, just Maeve.”

“Maeve. What the hell happened back there? What is going on with you?”

“Homelander is a murderous fucking psychopath. He will kill you. That’s probably what that mission is, a fucking death sentence. You need to leave. Now. Fuck. Okay, we have to find A-Train. Just touch him and get the fuck out of here, please.” She is pacing back and forth now rubbing her neck, her throat feels like it’s closing.

“What are you talking about? Is this a joke or some sort of initiation? Are you feeling okay…?” you start to approach her but her glare sends you toward the kitchen instead.

You go to pour both of you a glass of water, maybe something a little stronger. You reached towards the fridge door, mind racing. ‘What. The. Fuck.’ keeps repeating in your heard over and over again. You don’t even notice you’ve ripped the fridge door clean off until Maeve yells.

“Fuck! How did you even-“ she takes a long look at you, “You copied my fucking powers? Why?!”.

“I don’t- I don’t know! I got scared and the last power I had was fucking glitter! God. How do you control this shit?!” You try and fail to reattach the fridge door before flinging it at the picture over your bed, it lodges into the artwork, ruining the serenity it used to hold. You crumple to the floor and lean against the cabinets, fighting back tears. “Fuck!”. The cool air from the fridge sending chills down your arms. “Why would he want to kill me? What did I do wrong?”

Maeve slides down beside you and the two of you sit in silence. You rest your head back against the cabinet and look over at her, eyes puffy. Your mascara is smeared and parts of it are running, you still have glitter in your hair—which is sticking to your now wet face. Maeve’s expression is solemn, she pushes the hair out of your face and stares into your eyes. Her thumb gently caresses your cheek.

“I’m sorry.”

>next

#nmots #the boys #queen maeve #queen maeve x reader #queen maeve x oc #wlw #wlw fic #the boys fanfic #starlight the boys #homelander #creative writing

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onestepbackwards · 1 year ago

Text

I've been following the Unity situation and its so fucking insane like holy shit. We have everything! - Absurd fees for devs! That may or may not be retroactive and illegal, but we won't say until you cause a stink about it! (We totally aren't shh we wouldn't break the law. Totally :) ) - Getting rid of one of their levels of subscriptions during all of this, The 'Plus Plan', and allegedly putting you on the more expensive 'Pro' subscription if you auto renew! - Insider trading! Selling their stocks not even a week before they released this new change in their company! x x They've since backpedaled from what their original plan was. Originally, they told everyone that every Install, reinstall, dlc, demo, and pirated copy would now cost a fee (with few exceptions, such as charity games and bundles) It's not hard to see how this could tank an indie company with ease. Mad at a dev/company? Just mass install/uninstall. Now they are apparently saying that 'nonono! We only meant the original install :)' Which also opens the door as to how they are tracking installs. They so far have seemed to be avoiding as to how on earth they are going to do that without breaching privacy on a computer. Especially when it could just be easier to make a fee based on purchases, but no. x

So you know, don't worry guys, they have their own 'proprietary data model.' But so far (As i type this, or am aware of) have not given details about how that model works. When asked about stuff such as Xbox Gamepass, Unity mentioned it would be Microsoft paying for the fees. As of now, I have no idea if Microsoft was even told this, and I doubt they are going to agree to it either out of nowhere. x Another fun thing, is if you change your Unity plan, you are added to the revenue threshold immediately. Interesting that this is after they sneakily got rid of their Plus plan, which a lot of devs seemed to use.

And interesting enough, they seem to contradict themselves from their QnA and their official twitter post regarding Demo's and Early Access, or at least tried to be sneaky about the wording?? x x

They won't charge for demos or early access, until they do, apparently. Or if the demo has data that can be transferred to the main game, anyway. Unity also claimed this would only affect 10% of its users. Which is funny when you look at all the Indie devs and studios who are coming out on twitter saying that this actually directly hurts them. Not to mention all the people that have spent years learning this engine, for themselves, or so they can apply to companies using it. And now all of that was just spat on by Unity themselves. There's also the games that have been out and are built on this engine, and can't just be tossed and rebuilt. Such as Among us, Genshin Impact, Pokemon Go and the Diamond/Pearl remakes. Overall, it's a huge mess. Unity majorly screwed up. I'd recommend looking into what games you like, and if they run on Unity. If you don't have them yet, you may want to purchase them so they are in your steam library, or whatever console you play on. With the uncertainty of all of this, I wouldn't be surprised if some companies delist their games on steam. If you buy from them now, you'll still be able to support the devs before Unity implements this new fee plan. Plus, since you paid for them, they will still be on your console/in your steam library. Please stay safe ya'll, and support your local game devs during this storm. They need it.

#unity #unity3d #indiegame #indiedev #game development #unity engine #video games #sorry for the long post #but i felt this was important #long post #zed.talks

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cakerybakery · 8 months ago

Text

“I never loved you.”

Lucifer was taken aback. He and Adam had been arguing about Eden and blaming each other for all the things that went wrong. Where had that come from?

Adam screwed up his face and stormed out.

“What the fuck was that?” Lucifer wasn’t going to let this go. Something about it bothered him. He never expected Adam to love him. Why would it upset him if Adam didn’t love him? Why would Adam say that?

There’s one place Lucifer knew Adam always hid in hell when he needed to get away.

Where everything started. When Eden was corrupted, Adam and Eve weren’t expelled just for disobedience, they were exiled to be saved. Eden had fallen along with Lucifer and Lilith.

When the ground shook, the animals fled Eden to save themselves, but some were caught in the fall. Evil infected them, turned them feral or made them demons. Monster sprang where their blood spilled and they devoured the fruit from tree of knowledge and gaining intelligence. They had become dangerous.

The tree was dead but it would not rot away. Lucifer needed to hide the tree and its putrid fruit to put a stop to the growing hoard of intelligent demons.

In a vain hope that it could be revived, and perhaps heaven would find mercy for Lilith at least, Lucifer had sought out any sort of holy light for it to sprout in but had found only one single ray in all of hell.

So he moved the tree there but to no avail. The tree and the garden never recovered.

Adam had been drawn to it from the start, as Lilith had been.

Lilith would climb the branches and settle into a crook of the wood and bask in the light. The same place Adam would hide.

They both said the same thing, they needed to feel the warmth, to hear heaven. It made them feel better.

Lucifer made his way to the garden, down the narrow path and through caverns to a sinkhole that contained the remnants of the garden. He reached for the dead plants and they turned to dust at his touch. Flowers, faded and brittle, cracked in his wake.

A single streak of holy light fell down through the red sky and smog and nestled in the top of the tree.

Branch by branch, Lucifer climbed. The tree was too thick for him to fly up and get to the hidden spot. Only that single beam of light made it through.

He had to climb a bit higher than the crook to get into it. So when he got up to the spot he was looking down at Adam.

“Fuck off.” Adam’s words held no venom to them and Lucifer slid down into the space.

It was tight. Lilith had fit nicely into it but Adam had a good fifty pound on her, adding in Lucifer and they had gotten a little wedged in. Lucifer wasn’t worried, he could teleport, but it kept Adam from being able to take off.

Lucifer has slid himself down so he was between Adam’s pulled up knees and chest. Even in Adam’s lap, Lucifer had to marvel at their height difference. Adam was still half a head taller than him and he was sitting suspended a bit between Adam’s thighs and gut. He wiggled his legs on either side of Adam’s waist to get a little more comfortable. Grinning, he looked up into Adam’s aghast face.

“Wha-wha-what the fuck are you doing?”

“Getting comfortable. I want to know what the fuck that was about at the hotel.”

“What is fucking wrong with you?!? Get out of my lap, asshole.”

“So you can take off again? Yeah, no.”

Adam tried pushing Lucifer up and off him but hooked his feet under Adam ass and wedged himself down farther. And realized why Adam wanted Lucifer off his lap.

He could work with this.

Lucifer pretended he couldn’t tell Adam’s hard dick was pressed against his ass and leaned against Adam’s chest.

“You want me to get off you?” Lucifer shifted to wiggle a little more. “Then tell me what that was about.”

“Nothing. It wasn’t fucking anything. Get fucked, asshole.”

‘Now that’s an interesting choice of words, Adam.’

“You brought it up.” He shifted again and watched Adam’s face.

How he muttered, “shit,” under his breath, how hard his breathing got, Lucifer could feel Adam’s heart racing under his hands. Lucifer was sure he had his answer without ever needing Adam to vocalize it.

Adam wore a mask to hide his face and his feelings because he had no poker face. He was nearly as red as the sky and wouldn’t met Lucifer’s eyes.

Lucifer took Adam’s face in his hands, sat up, and kissed him. The hands that had tried to push him off now held him close.

Pulling back he asked, “did you love me in Eden?”

“I did.”

“Hmm.” Lucifer kissed him again, perhaps too enthusiastically. His tongue swept into Adam mouth and he gagged.

Adam pulled away and started coughing and gagging off to the side. Lucifer patted his back. He didn’t think Adam’s gag reflex was that strong. It didn’t bode well for what Adam could do in bed, but Lucifer could figure something out.

He rubbed Adam’s back some more until finally Adam spit out a chunk onto the tree.

Lucifer stared at it. Sticking out of the apple piece was a seed.

“You-you didn’t happen to have an apple for breakfast, did you?”

“I’ve only ever eaten one apple in my fucking life.”

Lucifer pulled the seed out and held it into the light. In his hand it sprouted. Growing larger by the second it began to crowd them and Lucifer teleported them out of the tree and onto the ancient dried prairie grasses that no longer existed on Earth. Driven to extinction by humans.

They watched as from the tree roots, branches, and bright green leaves burst out of the dry dead wood. In the aftermath a beautiful new tree stood. Everything it touched turned green, the ray of light spread and so did the green. Lucifer jumped as fat cold raindrops fell for the first time. No acid, no danger, just rain.

He and Adam ran for the cover of the tree as the heavens broke and it poured.

Adam laughed. “This is fucking insane.” His voice was a little higher than it had been, more like how he sounded in Eden. He grabbed Lucifer and kissed him.

Lucifer didn’t know what Eden coming back, what the tree regrowing, would mean for hell or heaven or even Earth. But as Adam kissed him until they lay in the grass, as the rain fell, and the sounds of insects returned, Lucifer didn’t care. Adam could have been his Eden once, had he paid attention. Like the garden, Lucifer was being given another chance, and he was going to take it.

#hazbin hotel adam #adam x lucifer #adamsapple #hazbin hotel lucifer

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jimilter · 1 year ago

Text

on the borderline — 04 | pjm. (m)

Park Jimin has been your buoy, your anchor and the ship of sanity that guides you to shore amid storms of self-doubt, nearly all your life; as have you been his. That is not to say nothing has ever brewed beneath the surface of platonic friendship, or that the two of you have never been victims to mistiming. Regardless, you would never risk the friendship you have with him now for anything. Even if you have to hurt him – or even yourself – in the process.

pairing: jimin x reader

rating: m (18+)

genre: humor | drama | friends to lovers!au

word count: 9.3 k

— warnings: swearing + mentions of a past toxic relationship + mentions of therapy/therapists + mentions of sex (some get detailed and explicit, hence the rating!) + some descriptive r-rated daydreaming + emotional constipation at its peaK + denial at its peaK + reader is a mess throughout + jimin cooking breakfast without a shirt 🚨 (will add more if i notice anything while proofreading!)

— note: HAPPY 10 YEARS TO BANGTAN - MY LOVE, MY HEART, MY WORLD! 🥺💜 hello world, i've crawled out of the grave two months later - who remembers me? :] anyways, parts of this aren't proofread (esp the last 2k words) bec i finished jusssst in time to post this today. will edit it in a day, tops! drop me a word~

ps. the rating, genre and warnings mentioned above pertain to this chapter, only.

main masterlist | taglist | feedback?

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𝐈𝐕 ⇢ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 ♪ i’m sinking faster and faster

What wakes you up is the inability to move your leg.

It’s not like you urgently need to move, either; you were just casually trying to wiggle into a more comfortable sleeping position, like everyone does at nine am on a Saturday morning, when you encountered a hindrance. Your sleep is disturbed, not out of discomfort, but more out of confusion.

Murmuring a curse under your breath, you part your crusty ass eyelids to peer at the warm and heavy human-like pillow that is laying above your blanket and restricting your movement. Wait, this pillow feels a little too giant. You do not have pillows as giant as—

Holy shit, it’s Jimin!

With a deep and loud and dramatic gasp, last night rushes back to you.

The wine, the movie, the kiss you initiated to prove that you and Jimin could kiss without making things weird – great joke, by the way – the kiss Jimin then initiated God knows why, the really good making out and the…

Fuck, the way he ate you out? You don’t remember the last time someone did it so—

Feeling your cheeks starting to heat up, you snap out of it. He’s Jimin, for fuck’s sake! Park jimin! Your childhood best friend, Park Jimin!

Your childhood best friend Park Jimin who is fantastic in bed—

No. Nope.

This is serious. And it’s bad.

Oh, God this is bad.

The heat that was climbing up your cheeks has now rerouted to your head, and your brain is slowly vaporizing under the tension.

Meanwhile, Jimin is fucking snoring away like an oblivious, angelic fucker. What? No, not angelic, no matter how soft his pouted lips look when he’s asleep, he was a demon with you in this very bed.

Almost subconsciously, you reach behind you to run a hand across the skin of your butt. It’s squeaky clean. Did he clean you up after you’d fallen asleep?

Blinking, you snap yourself out of the tender thoughts. This is no place to be thinking how good of a friend he was for cleaning you up when the reason why you were dirty had no friendly causes, whatsoever.

“Jimin!” you hoarsely call out to him, voice scratchy like sandpaper and honestly, too damn low to wake up your best friend who sleeps like a log.

Sitting up under the constricting blanket with difficulty, you scowl at him and shove his shoulder.

“Park Jimin! Wake the fuck up!”

No movement, not even a change in his breathing pattern, not even a lapse in the muted snores.

“Jimin!” you try a little louder this time, patting his cheek – so soft and warm, it’s hard to remove your hand from it – and he finally stirs. “Hey, wake up!”

Petulantly whining, he turns his head to the other side. “W’ass th’ime?”

What? Oh, time?

You check your bedside clock. “Uh, it’s nine. Oh fuck! You have a flight at noon! Wake up, Jimin!”

He groans and tries to fucking turn away. “I can get ready in an hour… Lemme just… th’rty minuhs…”

“Jimin, oh my God—” You break off, choosing to instead tug the blankets off him.

And. Well. It backfires, because he’s as naked as you underneath that. Almost involuntarily, your gaze traces his defined pectorals and travels down across his very prominent abdominal muscles, and then –

You shut your eyes.

He’s hard.

Swallowing roughly, you clumsily tug the blanket back up to his waist, shivering a little when your fingers accidentally brush his warm skin.

“Jimin,” you begin again, weakly, “please wake up. We really need to talk.”

That makes him sigh and finally crack one eye open to peer up at you. “What do you—”

His lips part, scanning the way you sit with your shoulders bare and covers held up to your chest.

“Oh.”

You can see the moment recollection makes it back to him, both eyes opening, now and widening just a fraction. Then he exhales and promptly shuts his eyes again.

What?

Is he going back to sleep?

“Jimin, what the fuck? Get up!”

With a grumpy whine, Jimin finally moves to sit up in bed, scowling at you with his whole face and looking absolutely adorable. Wait, no—

“What is it?” he murmurs through his pouty mouth, eyes swollen and barely open. “What couldn’t wait for thirty fucking minutes?”

Your jaw slowly drops. “Do… you do remember that we had sex last night, right?”

He nods. “Couldn’t be more obvious.” He points at a dark mark on your chest peeking above the blanket you’ve wrapped around yourself.

Tugging the damn cloth higher up, you gape at the guy. He sits simply blinking at you, and you can’t tell if he’s just sleepy or really that unbothered. “And…? Doesn’t it, like, bother you? At all?”

“Bother me?” He frowns and cocks his head to the side, looking at you as if you’re speaking a language he can’t understand.

“Jimin. We had sex.”

He blinks again, nonchalant as fuck, and then nods. “Yes, we did.”

At your wit’s end, you fist your free hand in your hair. “Dude. We – we had sex. It… It…”

Your stuttering, already mortifying in itself, gets tenfold worse when you can’t find the words to express yourself. Or maybe you do have the words, but you’re not sure how to voice how shockingly your world has been turned upside down when the other half of the involved party looks this cool about it. You are starting to feel like you’re making a big deal out of nothing – but you know it’s not fucking nothing!

“It was… amazing?” Jimin finishes for you with raised eyebrows, looking more awake but still as unbothered, and that is absolutely not where you were going with your sentence. But he’s not done: “Fantastic? Uncannily good and possibly the best sex you’ve had in a while? ’Cause same.”

And now he’s grinning at you and you’re at a loss. Frowning furiously to hone your focus in when your head has started to ache, you shake your head and try again. “Ye–yeah, all – all of that, yes, but also something that shouldn’t have happened!”

Jimin’s eyes narrow at you. “Are you trying to tell me you regret it?”

“Yes! Obviously! You don’t?”

“Why would I?” He shrugs his shoulders and brushes a hand through his hair, not a single expression changing on his face. “It was really good, we used protection and—”

“Okay, stop!” You interrupt him with a wince, eyes screwed shut. “I cannot do this without coffee.”

—

"I—wow. Maybe I can't do this with a coffee either.” You have frozen at the entrance to your kitchen to gape at the sight of your best friend's shirtless back as he sears something in a pan on the stove. “Not without a whole fucking pot of it.”

At your declaration, Jimin turns his head to cock an eyebrow at you over a shoulder, and you shoot a curse at yourself in your head for the clench your insides give. He looks so good like this. It's so wrong and wholly unfair.

Because you have hung out with a shirtless Jimin plenty of times in your life. You’ve objectively admired his build, too, because one – it has been your duty as his best friend and regular wingwoman to give him reviews, and two – for a female that likes men, you’d have to have been a saint to not admire his beautiful body, like, come on.

But never have you ever had such a visceral reaction to the sight. This is what you get for getting to know all those solid muscles up close and personal and freaking tasting his skin, you’ve been so fucking stupid, good God—

"Please put on a shirt, man," you sigh, attempting to avert your eyes but failing.

Jimin, the absolute dick, rolls his eyes at your request. And then just snorts at you and turns back to the stove, as if he finds the suggestion hilarious. As if you're not seconds away from throwing yourself at him and damaging your friendship more than it has been damaged so far.

Why is he acting so normal? You’re starting to hate your best friend.

After your conversation had been halted in the bedroom, you left the bed to wash your face and throw on a fresh hoodie because you did not wanna wear the one that’s been sitting on your living room floor all night, not when it reminds you of where and how Jimin ate you out. Dear God. You also stole some coffee from the pot while Jimin washed his face. After which you tossed him out to brush your teeth because your mouth tasted like ass, and assumed he'd use the time to dress up because he had to leave soon.

You did not expect the very domestic sight of him cooking – let alone the very erotic version of it that his state of undress depicts.

And now you're experiencing a meltdown because the man's back muscles are visibly rippling with his motions. The slight bruises you've caused by running your nails across them shine a brilliant red against the taut, golden skin. Taunting you. Reminding you of how you lost your goddamn mind, last night.

You feel embarrassed. But you also feel horny.

Which makes you feel doubly embarrassed.

The guy stays completely unbothered, though, humming to himself and fiddling with the damn omelet he's making that smells too fucking good and makes your stomach rumble.

Why is he making your life so difficult, in every single way?

Sighing, you collect all remnants of your willpower, sanity and self-respect, to turn away and stomp your way back to your bedroom. Grabbing a hoodie from your closet, you stomp your way back to the kitchen, this time stepping in and bravely walking up to your best friend, and press the article of clothing into his back.

"Min. Please just put some clothes on and let me have a full cup of coffee. Please."

This time Jimin fully turns to face you with amusement in his eyes and concealed laughter on his lips if the way he's got them pursed is anything to go by. You resolutely do not look beyond his face, instead turning your gaze to the tamagoyaki this man has expertly whipped up in the time it took for you to brush your teeth.

"This looks so good, how'd you make it?"

Jimin steps away with a laugh, finally accepting the hoodie from you to throw it on. "You had an appropriate pan and nice, bamboo chopsticks. That's all it takes."

That is not all it takes, but you're gonna stop arguing because the three sips of coffee that you could stomach with your unbrushed mouth have been exhausted by this interaction and you need more fuel to go on.

So you and Jimin find yourselves on your kitchen island with the Japanese omelet, a pot of coffee and your respective mugs, quietly eating, sipping and holding a staring contest.

Because now that he's appropriately covered, all the reasons why last night was a horrific idea have made their way back to you. You feel like this is the last time you're sitting and eating together, and it's becoming increasingly hard to stomach the impossibly delicious omelet Jimin has prepared.

He is the one to eventually break the stare, giggling at you when you glare at him over the rim of your mug. “Stop looking so mad, babe. So maybe last night shouldn’t have happened, but at least it was good, yeah?”

“How can you be so fucking happy and calm when I’m literally going through an existential crisis, right now?”

Amusement in his curved eyebrows, Jimin hums as he takes a sip from his cup. “Ever heard of post-orgasmic afterglow?”

“For fuck’s sake, Min!” Throwing your head back, you release a groan. “We really got drunk and put our friendship on the line! We – we swore we’d never do anything to jeopardize our bond and then we have sex like some stupid horny teenagers? Last night should not have happened, Jimin!”

That makes him clear his throat and stop laughing. And then, with the most straight face ever, he asks you: “Okay, but at least the sex was good, right?”

You are fucking dumbfounded. “The sex—”

“Was it or wasn’t it? You haven’t said a word about the quality of the sex and I’m starting to get worried…”

“Jesus Christ, yes, it was fucking bomb, but—”

“Well, then that's one win!” He claps his hand together, stepping off his seat to walk up to you and put both his palms on your shoulders. “Now that we are past that, rest assured that this won’t affect our friendship. I promise.”

“You can’t promise that—”

“I can and I am. I’ve known you since we were, like, twelve.”

“I hated you when we were twelve,” you remind him with a pout.

He laughs at that. “Yeah, but you also had a crush on me when we were thirteen, so explain that, huh?”

Despite the events of last night, his mention of your past crush on him still manages to make your cheeks heat up. Doesn’t help that he looks like this when he’s talking about it, all soft in the huge hoodie you basically forced him, a sweet smile pulling his lips up and eyes sparkling.

“We are way beyond ruining our friendship, trust me,” he tells you again, jostling you by your shoulders. “And honestly, this doesn’t have to affect anything if we don’t let it. So we have great sexual chemistry. Honestly, are you really that surprised?”

You’re really not because your brain has been going wild ever since his birthday party, but what the hell does he mean by that?

At your wide eyes, he throws his head back in a laughter.

“Hasn’t it always been like that between us?”

“Like what?” You feel so fucking clueless, you’re half afraid Jimin’s about to call you out on your confession of your fantasizing and you’re bracing yourself for the embarrassment.

“We get on each other’s nerves all the time, but we also love each other. Those sorts of things tend to build sexual tension, dude,” he explains as if he's telling you about a scientific experiment, and you shove his hands off of you with a scowl.

“You didn’t just talk about our supposed sexual tension and then call me dude in the same sentence, weirdo.”

He’s laughing now, eyes disappearing in a squint as his cheeks push up into them, and the sight is too endearing for you to not smile in adoration. “My point was,” he finally concludes, “that we can make it work. It doesn’t have to happen again, we don’t even have to ever talk about it.”

You like the sound of that. Humming, you take a sip from your coffee and nod. “That sounds like something I'd like to do. Can we put this in the past forever?”

“Yes, we can.” Jimin nods, giving you a thumbs-up before he raises his eyebrows. “I mean, I can’t promise I won’t make jokes about some stuff, because, boy do you have the weirdest erogenous zones. The way you went crazy when I bit into your shoulder? I mean who—”

“Hey, shut the fuck up! I have normal erogenous zones!” You seamlessly slip into the banter, pointing a finger at him. “It’s you that has an ass fetish. You exploded at the sight of my ass!”

A loud gasp leaves him and Jimin places a hand on his chest. “Are you trying to kink shame me?”

“You started it!”

“But you made it worse.” Jimin sighs, dramatically pinching the bridge of his nose. “You know what? You were right. Sleeping with your best friend is a bad idea, and this is why. You already know each other inside out, the only thing you’re unaware of is each other’s sexual lunacy. Now we’ve broken that barrier, we’re absolutely gonna kill each other.”

You’re barely able to keep your face straight after that, breaking into loud laughter. Because he isn’t wrong. You know for a fact you have never had that reaction to being bitten on the shoulder, obviously. Not that you can even recall someone’s teeth being there. But with Jimin, it was just something about him that did the trick.

His joke alleviates the pressure that this realization could bear down on your chest, though, and that feels a lot freeing.

Maybe this can be okay. Maybe you can move forward without a wall of awkwardness rising between you two.

You will move on with your lives and treat last night as something that came your way – and then passed. Kind of like your crushes on each other during your teenage years. It helped that they never really coincided, but it also had to have helped that you never gave them enough importance to even discuss what you had felt, at the time.

Maybe you shouldn’t be giving this as much importance, either.

It’s you and Jimin! Homies! Bros for life, remember?

Yes, you absolutely do.

So you lean in to hug the guy. “This cannot change anything, okay? Please.”

“It won’t if we don’t let it, you crazy woman.” He laughs but loops his arms around you to tug you closer. “And I don't intend to let that happen.”

You don’t either.

You don’t.

You really don’t.

But…being this close to him is giving you flashbacks to being this close to him when you were naked, and that is making you feel hella hypocritical. Maybe this is just your version of an afterglow; maybe your brain's still high on serotonin. You’ll get over it after this heady rush of last night's multiple orgasms has left.

Clearing your throat, you separate from him with a tight smile – only to come face to face with a blooming purple and red mark at the base of his throat.

“Fuck, I left a mark!”

Jimin tries to follow your gaze with a cocked eyebrow, but when he can’t, you place a finger against the spot, smudging it as if you’re trying to wipe lipstick off. Which Jimin snorts at, “Yeah, that’s not gonna erase a hickey, ma'am.”

Jimin’s snickering is met by your groan, and you push a finger into his chest. “Please cover that up before you leave for your trip. And keep it covered? You’ve packed turtlenecks, right? You’re obsessed with them!”

Laughter trickles through Jimin, nostrils flared because he has his lips folded in to hold it in. “Why? I could just tell them my girlfriend gave them to me as a parting gift. No one'll question me, anyways.”

“Dude, you’re going with Tara! And I had a very long conversation with Avni, and—” You break off, unsure about divulging the details of that conversation. “And she…knows we’re just friends.”

“Oh, yeah. Tara. She, um, she’s not the type to ask questions, you know?”

Now that he’s kinda awkwardly looking away and stumbling with his sentence again, you’re reminded of the way he’d stuttered about Tara's name on the phone as well. From what you know, the girl has a husband. Why is your best friend being so suspicious about her?

“But I could always say someone else did this.”

Now wait just a second. Why does that make you wanna scowl?

What kind of teenager shit is this? ‘I worked on this hickey, don’t give someone else the credit?’

God, you need an aspirin.

His dick game really has you hovering in a limbo. But to be fair, it hasn’t even been a whole twelve hours ever since you got into it.

This is definitely gonna take you some time to get over.

Good thing Jimin’s leaving for the next few days, then.

“Do whatever, just – I don’t wanna hear your secretary telling any more of your clients about your girlfriend visiting your office, okay?”

He blinks at you, lips pouted in mock innocence. “Even if it's not you?”

“What? No! Our pact still holds!”

“What if you and Seokjin hit it off tonight, though?”

Seok—

Holy shit, you forgot about Seokjin!

What the fuck is wrong with you? You have a maybe-can-be-probably date with a guy and you literally slept with someone else the night before? It’s obviously worse that it was your best friend, but even so. How did you not even remember about the date?

Wow, you hoe. This is a new low.

And damn, you and Jimin never ended up having that discussion about your ability to recognize your feelings, after all.

Well. After the events of last night, you don’t think you’ll be needing that conversation, after all. It’s bad enough that you had sex with someone other than the guy you’re going to dinner with, the least you can do is respect both the men enough to not make it a date.

Even as the narrative plays out in your head, you know you’re mostly making excuses. And maybe that should be enough to tell you how desperately your subconscious does not wanna get back into the aspects of romance.

If only the people around you (read: Park Meddling Jimin) could understand as much.

“I really don’t think that’s happening, Min,” you simply state in response, deciding to keep all of your thoughts to yourself for once.

And Jimin, for once, takes it simply enough, nodding with a small smile. “Well. I still hope you have a good time with him.” He checks his phone, and then gathers you in a quick side hug. “It’s close to ten, I gotta run. See you some time next week?”

You nod. “But stay in touch, okay?”

“Of course! And you too – keep me updated about how things go!” When you scowl, he laughs. “Even if you stay friends, grumpkin.”

“Stop trying to make that happen, it’s not gonna happen!” You push at him and he rolls his eyes with a giggle.

“Sure, Regina George.”

Waving at him, you laugh as Jimin quickly stuffs his last night’s rolled up clothes in a backpack he’s borrowing from you and grabs his glasses from the clutter on your coffee table.

“Have a safe flight, Gretchen!”

“Shut up! Will text you after I land!”

“You do that, Min!”

And then he’s slipping out of the door, dousing your apartment in silence.

Your eyes casually move toward the coffee table that you will have to clean up, and accidentally land on the couch.

Fuck.

There’s an immediate throb between your legs when your gaze scans the area where you… well, made out with Jimin and had him basically devour you.

Fuck, indeed.

Jimin was very correct. Last night was some of the best sex you’ve had in a while.

In a really long while.

It’s gonna you take longer than a few days to get over it. How Jimin was able to get back to normal so easily is beyond you.

But then again – maybe he was putting up a front because he knew he’d be leaving for two days and will be able to get your mind off of last night.

Damn, he’ll be back in just two days? Shit, that doesn’t feel like a nearly big enough time period all of a sudden.

Especially right now when you’re cleaning up your coffee table with your throat dry and your panties wet. You’ll never be able to have him over because every time he sits on this couch, you’ll be reminded of last night.

Fuck, maybe you can never even talk to him normally because every time you look at his lips, you won’t even have to imagine what they can do to you because you now know what they can do to you.

How the hell are you gonna face him in two days?

You're broken out of your thoughts by the ping of a message on your phone.

10:17 AM | Text Message from Seokjin (office) Hey, we never discussed how we're meeting! Would you like me to pick you up?

You suck in a sharp breath. Seokjin. The date.

Right.

This does not feel right, good God.

A grimace on your face, you type in your response, asking the guy to meet you at the restaurant. You are not showing him your place, just yet. Or at all. And you do not wish to be in another guy’s car when the smell of your best friend’s cologne mixed with the musk of his cum is still stuck to your fucking lungs.

For a brief moment, you wonder if you should cancel the date.

But then you recall the conversation you had with Jimin less than half an hour ago.

This cannot change anything, okay? Please.

It won’t if we don’t let it, you crazy woman. And I don't intend to let that happen.

You don’t intend to let that happen, either, which is what stops you from canceling the date.

Besides, maybe hanging out with a guy you’ve been admiring and flirting with might actually help? Now that you’ve established that last night’s activities have to be water under the bridge, there’s nothing wrong with attempting to find a distraction to help you cross that bridge, right?

Jimin, for one, seems to want you to do that really bad.

A weird feeling tugs at your stomach when you recall his insistence on you working things out romantically with Seokjin. But because you already have a huge pile of dogshit on your plate to deal with, you refuse to think further about the pang and instead attempt to focus on the outfit you will be wearing.

You end up wearing a knee length, a-line dress with no sleeves – the right amount of pretty, hot and available, without being too much. It’s a deep navy in color, but no surprise there because ninety percent of your closet comprises dark shades of blues.

On your short drive to the Korean BBQ place you are to meet up with Seokjin at, you blast The Weeknd at full volume and enjoy a solo karaoke of Starboy. When you get there, you drop a text to your date and receive an immediate reply telling you the location of the table he’s sat on.

He’s here before you which would leave you no time to compose yourself before you face the guy. Good thing you were a mother-effing starboy in the car, five minutes ago.

Inhaling deeply and then exhaling, you exit your car and elegantly walk up to the cute entrance to the restaurant. The place’s ambience kinda surprises you because it looks a lot upscale than the usual KBBQ places you’re used to frequenting. Gold and white aesthetics surround you, not ideal for a place which deals in smoking food, but the level of cleanliness that the decor still manages to maintain has you humming in appreciation.

But then again, you shouldn't be surprised – Kim Seokjin eludes lavishness.

Speaking of, you’re able to spot the man the moment you step foot into the place. And, admittedly, his crisp suit jacket and combed back hair make you space out so hard, you miss the doorman’s whole greeting. Seokjin immediately catches your eye, too, curling his plump lips into that smirk he flashes at people when he knows he’s got them under his spell.

Well. He’s not wrong, there.

Walking up to him – only after bowing at the doorman, because mama didn’t raise a mannerless bitch – you smile at his sweet gesture of pulling a chair out for you. Even the chimney above your table has intricate carvings on it, looking like something out of a royal kitchen.

When he’s finally seated back in his place across from you and has allowed his smirk to bloom into a full smile, you nod your head in polite greeting. “You look good today.”

Seokjin waves a hand of perfectly manicured nails and delicate rings in front of his face. “Oh, please. I look good everyday.”

Uh…

Did you mishear him? The place is buzzing but it’s not that loud.

But given the serene smile on his face, he doesn’t look like he just made a joke. Yeah, you must have misheard him.

“You look absolutely gorgeous.”

Wow, the pace at which heat fills your cheeks is so embarrassing. Jimin would never let you live it down if he knew, especially given what all you managed to get up to without any blushing business, last—

Okay, what the fuck?

You hope Seokjin doesn’t notice the momentary panicked widening of your eyes.

Did you really just almost think about the one event in your life that you’re supposed to forget about? Granted, it happened less than 24 hours ago – but you’re on a date. With another guy. And he just complimented you.

At this point, you should really be ashamed of yourself.

“Th–thank you, hehe.”

Did you just stutter? And fake-giggle?

Good God, you’re going to cry. This isn’t the afterglow the world promised you.

Thankfully, Seokjin jumps to discussing food straight away without attempting any small talk. And he’s pretty enthusiastic about it, too – asking for all his favorite side dishes and then encouraging you to add on yours to the order as well.

“Do you, um, come here often?” It takes you a while to frame that question but as soon as it is out of your mouth, you immediately realize that it can sound like you’re asking him if he’s been on other dates here. Often.

Your social skills are on an all time low tonight, God help you…

But Seokjin, thankfully, doesn’t think that far and simply nods. “Oh, yes. I know the manager, so I’ve been coming here since they opened a year ago.”

Ah, so he’s somewhat of a social butterfly.

Immediately, your brain wants to switch to thinking of another social butterfly in your life and make unnecessary comparisons – but you stop that line of thought before it can take form, by smiling wide at Seokjin. He’s so fucking handsome and you’re honestly just wasting it.

“That’s nice! Does he offer you discounts?” Your sense of humor might be broken, but at least this embarrassment stays on the surface and doesn’t make you wanna hide beneath the table.

Chuckling at your question, Seokjin leans over the table and gestures for you to lean closer as well – which you do. “The dude’s actually my brother in law, so fat chance, I’d say.”

You laugh a little louder than necessary on the joke, partially giggling out of relief that your lame ass joke didn’t get rejected.

He might not get discounts, but the service for your table definitely seems to be a little faster and more full of smiles than it is for the other patrons. Well. You're not complaining.

Seokjin smiles and nods at your server as well, respectfully tucking his hands in his lap to allow the guy enough room to set your table. After the server leaves, Seokjin is quick to set arrange the meat on the furnace – hands moving expertly as he twists and turns the strips around according to the level of cooking each portion requires.

He is a gentleman to the tee, cutting the meat up for you and everything, but is also careful about boundaries because he forwards his chopstick to your plate and not your mouth. Although you're sure your dumbass would have opened your mouth to accept the bite if he would’ve offered, too, without realizing the implications of letting your date feed you.

"Good?"

You hold back a moan when the soft and tender meat melts in your mouth, instead choosing to cover your lips daintily with a hand and nod at Seokjin with wide eyes. A comment about you being pronographic with food from a certain someone crosses your mind, and you resist the urge to sob out loud because you need to stop thinking about last night.

"So good," you manage to murmur back, giving Seokjin a thumbs up with your chopstick hand.

He grins at you before taking a bite himself, and – oh, man. He certainly doesn't hold back on the moans. You're barely able to contain your reaction when the man suddenly throws his head back and releases a deep groan that travels through your body in vibrations.

There's no way to stop your brain from bursting out a whole NSFW scenario, now, that features you on your knees between the man's legs, swallowing his dick as if it's your last meal on earth.

Damn. Man’s never even mentioned if he even has any romantic intentions with this whole thing or if he’s just treating you because he felt bad for you missing out on the group outing yesterday – and here you are, being obscene about him enjoying his food. How very pathetic of you.

It gets worse, though, because Seokjin suddenly opens his eyes and meets your gaze that you know for a fact has gotten all heavy lidded and dark. Evidenced by the way his eyebrows slowly rise up and tongue flicks out to lick away the remnants of grease from his bottom lip.

"It is good," he murmurs, winking at you.

Yeah no, he's definitely got at least flirtatious intentions. A little flustered, you clear your throat and look away from him, picking up a slice of pickled radish to distract yourself.

"So…" Seokjin begins and then pauses, causing your gaze to connect with his again because he isn't the type to really hesitate.

But there's a slight dusting of pink on his cheekbones right now that could very well be a result of the heat from the grill – but the undertones of grimace behind his smile suggest to you that it's not. Oh dear. Is he nervous?

"Just so we are on the same page… I'd been planning to do this for a while now."

A… while? He's not about to profess his undying love, is he? Your back straightens in alarm, but you force your lips to form a grin. "Ask me on a… date?"

He shrugs a shoulder, tilting his head. "Not necessarily a date, no. Just spending time with you one-on-one."

Oh, thank fuck.

"I know it's not just me that feels like this pull between us, right?"

Yep, it's not just him. Although you won't exactly call it a pull. It's a tap, at best. Or even a touchless beckoning? You weren't lying when you said you only objectively admire his good looks.

But you're not about to tell him that.

Smiling at him, you nod. "We're on the same page, then. It's not just you. But… why didn't you?"

"Why didn't I what?"

"Ask to do this earlier?"

And you do genuinely wonder. Because now, too, he's almost tricked you into this instead of being forthright with it. You're, like, seventy-eight percent sure you'd have rejected him if he mentioned the word date, but he doesn't know that. Or does he?

Your eyes narrow slightly as Seokjin gives a self-conscious cough of laughter, hand behind his neck. "Well, I wasn't really sure you were… y'know, available?"

Now hold on a second – that's bullshit. You've never made it a secret that you've been as single as they come, ever since you joined this company three years back. Well, you've also made it known that you aren't exactly available either, but what are the odds of Seokjin completely missing the first half and yet catching onto the second one?

Unless you mixed it up and made it seem that you are unavailable because you had somebody? Oops.

"What do you mean?" you ask him with a light chuckle, leaning towards the table as he reduces the heat on the grill.

He rolls his eyes, looking at you with a small smile that feels a tad condescending; as if he's about to go, ‘oh, you poor child,’ on you. "That friend of yours? He began to come around a lot, picking you up after work every other day and stuff. I assumed you'd started seeing someone. We all did.”

“Jimin…?” you mumble in surprise because you'd been so eager to spend every minute of your free time with him when you moved to town that you never paused to consider how it looked. "No, we're just friends! He's my best friend, and we're close. But there's nothing there."

Oh no. Why are you talking about him? You were supposed to not even think of the guy – why did you begin to discuss him?

Well now it's too late, because the can of worms has been opened. Now your thoughts are cascading on themselves like a glitching Windows XP screen.

Your brain's been sent into an obscene overdrive – as if you’d been holding the gates shut to all these images with your back pressed against them and now they’ve been pushed open by this huge wave that flattens you to the ground and engulfs you in itself. And suddenly, you’re reliving it – his hot exhale against your neck, fingers gripping at your hips, tongue flicking over your nipple, teeth digging your flesh.

Best friend? Right.

Sweat is trailing down your neck and your gaze is stuck unseeingly in your plate full of food that Seokjin has deposited there for your consumption.

Seokjin.

Fuck.

You’re on a fucking date – with another guy.

What the fuck are you doing?

"So yeah,” escapes you in a broken imitation of a chuckle when Seokjin nods, while you try to suppress the slight tremble in your hand when you wave it before your face to emphasize words. “He's just a friend.”

Who gave you the best pounding of your life, but that’s the fine print no one likes to read.

“Yes, yes, I’ve gathered as much now.” Seokjin’s smile is so wholesome, you feel like you’re violating his aura by breathing the same air as him when your mind's so pathetically filthy. “So… about that same page conversation – what do you expect out of this? A casual hangout? Friendship? Something…more?"

Wow, so this guy is actually a pretty cool guy if you look beyond the narcissism, the overenthusiasm and the noseyness. Quite a list to look beyond, but you do reckon him to at least be friendship material with the thoughtfulness his question displays.

The question, though. What do you expect?

Exhaling, you lean back in your seat and squint into space to think about it. You can’t exactly tell him that you're not the least bit emotionally invested in this and would have just tried to get into his pants if it wasn’t for your best friend’s insistence. But number one: you can’t exactly lie to him because that’d be blatantly leading him on and potentially hurting him; number two: he didn't really present you with an option fitting for this.

You need to find a middle ground.

Because for wholly selfish reasons that you shouldn’t even be involving Seokjin in, you need his company. You need him as a friend, as a potential bed-mate if he's interested. You need him as someone you can spend time with so as to not spend all of it with the one person who's had your brain in a blender since last night. But friendzoning him isn't the way to go, so you're gonna need a second, third, fourth date – whatever number it takes for you to heal the chemical explosion in your head and be a normal human again.

So you need to find a middle ground.

Which just so happens to be you smirking right back at the guy and giving a carefree shrug. "How about a casual hangout with the potential of a friendship with the side of… something else?"

Seokjin bites down on his bottom lip before he smiles again giving you that knowing, tad condescending smirking pull of his lips. Leaning closer to mimic your position, he raises a tentative finger and traces the back of your hand with it, gaze dark but playful. "Sounds fun."

You turn your hand over to allow his fingers to trace the soft, more sensitive skin of your palm instead, grinning at him. "I am fun."

Snorting, he withdraws himself and nods at you. "And funny. I like it."

The compliment makes you grin wider, even though his standards of 'funny' are sure to be questionable with the kind of jokes you've seen him make and laugh at.

The two of you lapse into a comfortable, companionable silence after that, focus shifted to the food. A few words about the quality of the meat and the level of cooking are tossed here and there. Seokjin is definitely a food lover and definitely knows more about cooking than your average guy. He eventually tells you he used to be a good blogger in his early twenties, which you find kind of cute.

You still don't know what he actually does for a living now, however, and the question must be obvious in your squinted gaze when you're cleaning your hands with a wet wipe because kimchi juices cannot be managed by sheer tissue paper.

"I guess it's time I told you," he begins, getting up with you as the two of you prepare to leave.

You raise an eyebrow. "Tell me what?"

"About my profession."

At the reception, you're preparing to put up a fight to split the bill, when Seokjin simply asks the cashier to put this on my tab, grabs some breath mints, and walks away. Following him with a dumbfounded stare, not before popping a breath mint in your own mouth, you see the way the doorman grins at the guy before bowing and you briefly wonder exactly how often he must come here to be able to bhule up this amount of familiarity. And a whole tab.

Your question is hilariously answered the next moment, when Seokjin walks up to your car and leans against it with a smile, pointing at the building with a raise of his eyebrows.

"I own this place."

"What?" You gape at him in pure confusion. "You… the restaurant? But you… you said…"

"My brother in law's the manager, yes, but this restaurant is mine. Actually, there's a chain of these around the country and a few abroad. We started out five years ago, but… business has kinda flourished recently. You don't frequent KBBQ places often, I see."

Okay, wow. Handsome, flirty and rich? Forget being friends, this dude is total Sugar Daddy material! That, and this also explains his knowledge of food and all the free time he's always got on his hands. "Ah… that's really amazing!"

"It kinda is, if I do say so myself."

Overlooking the narcissism, you hum and move to stand next to the guy, your back against your car, arms brushing his. Despite all his red flags, Seokjin is awfully good at picking up clues, you'd give that to him. Because with a slow twist of his heeled shoes, he moves to hover above you, arms extended and hands braced on the door of your vehicle next to your shoulders.

His breath washes over your face, minty but warm, and his dark eyes pull you in. "This was fun."

You attempt to smirk at him, but your lips tremor for some unknown reason. Not to mention the weird weight that pulls at your stomach at his proximity.

You try to goad yourself into reacting. A horny grab of his coat lapels would be better than staring at him with wide, borderline scared eyes.

What the fuck is wrong with you, you absolute idiot? Where's that imagery of getting on your knees for him now? Remember the horny rush you felt when he moaned after taking a bite of his food?

But nothing works, your throat swallowing your nerves repeatedly and yet failing to clear all of them out of you.

Seokjin looks visibly confused at your lack of reaction, but still smiles at you for a moment and brings a hand in to cup the side of your face in his warm palm.

Alarm bells blare loud and shrill in your head, your skin tingling at the contact with his and not in a good way.

The weight in your stomach expands upwards, pressing onto your chest, and the warm breaths on your face suddenly feel not so pleasant anymore.

Or rather, they don't feel right.

The smell of Seokjin's woodsy cologne, his height towering over you, the calluses in his palm – everything feels wrong.

It should be citrus, you should be tilting your head at a different angle, the calluses should be on the fingertips.

It should be Jimin.

Fuck.

You're fucked.

"I… I'm sorry, Seokjin, I.m. I don't think I can do this."

Eyes wide and almost horrified, he immediately jumps away from you with both his palms raised up. "Woah woah, did I overstep? I'm so sorry! Shit, I should've asked for your permission before stepping so close—"

"No, no, it's not you! You were reading the signs and you were reading them right." You reassure him, trying to regulate your breathing now that you finally can breathe properly. "I was into it, I swear! I mean… I thought I was into it. But I…" You sigh, placing a hand over your forehead to give an embarrassed shake of your head. "I'm sorry."

"Hey, please don't apologize." Seokjin shakes his head tenderly, looking at you with a frown that spells concern as well as confusion. But then he grins at you, clearly trying to make a joke out of the situation to ease you down. "There will always be more opportunities to make out, my lips aren't going anywhere!"

Oh… But you don't think there will be. You don't want there to be.

He reads something on your face and slowly raises his eyebrows. "Or maybe not?"

You give a weary sigh, shutting your eyes and slumping against the silver of your car. "I really really don't wanna lead you on, Jin. You're an amazing guy, and… I'd really love to have a friend in you. But I don't think I'm in the right mindspace to invest into anything further than that."

And it is so weird to confess something that has been true for years – except now, it's in a wholly different context. You have steered clear of emotional entanglements for so long because of the way things went south with your ex. That hasn't stopped you from pursuing physical intimacy, however.

But right now, you're stepping away from the latter as well.

You can feel your brain shutting down on your emotions, refusing to let you assess what you feel, least of all why you feel it. But you most certainly were craving your best friend when another guy was just about to kiss you – so you are most certainly, very royally fucked to a huge degree.

When you finally meet Seokjin's gaze again, trying to avoid your thoughts, he's looking at you with a small smile. It is an extended version of the condescending one you've seen him wear multiple times tonight, except this one seems more sweet than tainting.

"Can I ask you something?"

You blink at the unexpected question. "You just did," you lamely mumble, cringing at your own self. "Sorry. Yes, please, go ahead.

He laughs and tilts his head to the side. "Is Jimin really just a friend to you?"

Eyes widening in surprise, you're at a loss of words at the suddenness of the question. It's not an unfamiliar one – far from it. In your entire existence as Jimin's best friend, you've encountered it more times than you can count; as best friends usually do, before they laugh it off and call each other gross.

But, strangely enough, facing it this time brings out an emotion that is far from humor. It, in fact, takes you back to that time in college when you were all nineteen and you'd freshly revealed about your past crush on Jimin during some game amongst your group of friends. Wheein, Jeongyeon and Seungcheol, the three other friends that completed your group of five, then took it upon themselves to tease the two of you at every chance they got.

You claimed your crush was old and you'd gotten over it – and yet butterflies filled your tummy every time Jimin flirtatiously wiggled his eyebrows at you at their insistence. You didn't even go to the same college, man used to make you lose braincells over video calls!

Those similar butterflies occupy the cavity beneath your diaphragm now too, as you stay blinking at Seokjin, taking way too long to answer. Which gives away the answer in itself.

Giving you a hum, long and deep, he rolls back on his heels and nods. "I see."

"What? No!" You suddenly jump up to defend yourself. "I… We're just in a… weird phase right now." That's one way to put it, you guess. "B–but we're friends. Just friends. The best of friends."

"Are you sure it's me that you're trying to convince?"

You bite your tongue at the laughter in his voice. Are you really trying to lie to yourself?

Do you really have a crush on your best friend…again?

Seokjin gives a pat to your shoulder. "Don't worry about it, okay? I can't say I didn't have an inkling. Hell, we've all seen the two of you act impossibly couple-y around each other. Even if you were just friends in the beginning, it was bound to evolve into something more given how you looked at each other."

Okay, enough. That's… too much.

It was one thing when it was just Jimin’s colleagues that thought the two of you acted couple-y because he'd never bothered to correct them. It's a whole other when it’s your colleagues too because you've always brushed off their suspicions, without fail.

This is getting out of your hands.

"I'll be taking my leave, okay? Drive safe and let me know when you've reached home." Seokjin smiles again when you meet his gaze. "No hard feelings, okay? I'll see on Monday."

You hope you'd be able to face him on Monday without breaking into tears of humiliation.

Sighing, you wave goodbye to Seokjin and, unlocking your car, get into it. Placing both hands on the steering wheel, you rest your forehead against their back, exhaling roughly.

This is all so confusing, you almost want to cry. Or call up Jeongyeon and complain about your confusing state of mind to her. But you're a terrible friend who doesn't keep in touch with people regularly so the last time you talked to the girl would have been on her birthday. Almost a year ago. It's coming up again next month, in fact. So nope, no messages.

With a grimace, you extract your phone to check the time – just as a message pings on it.

07:41 PM | Text Message from Min 🌟 <image_2839.jpg>

Great. Just what you need. More of him to absolutely obliterate any semblance of sanity you could have clung onto.

Heart almost beating out of your chest, you click on the message with embarrassingly shaky fingers. A picture of him awaits you – a dramatic selfie where his face is resting against a pillow with his eyes shut and lips pouted. The accompanying text spells out 'tired' in small letters, followed by multiple ellipses because one couldn't have made the point clearly enough for him.

Your heart has no business thumping like it us at the sight of his shiny mouth, and your face definitely deserves to be sued for heating up like a fucking toaster. You could earn a tortilla on your cheeks.

Oh God.

You do have a crush on him again. Holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck.

What the fuck have you done?

On your way back, your whole head was such a mess that you almost turned into the wrong lane. You'd planned a Marvel movie marathon to get your mind off everything and fall asleep in front of the TV – so that you can wake up on Sunday afternoon with Chris Evans’ ass in his tight Cap’n America spandex on your mind.

But as you go through your nightly routine of brushing and showering, you realize that watching TV is out of the question because you cannot stay in your living room without reliving the way you were eaten out, here. And touching yourself to the thought of the guy you don't wanna think about will be sort of counterproductive.

So you decide to pull out your laptop and snuggle in your bed, resolutely turning towards the window in your room to avoid looking at the place where you knelt before Jimin. But that makes you face the picture of the two of you that you keep on your nightstand like a sap, and you release a tired groan.

"Why the fuck are you everywhere?" you lament into your empty room which doesn't feel nearly empty enough with all the traces of your best friend around it.

For the first time in your life, you're beginning to wonder if you've woven Jimin too intricately in your life than a best friend should be.

Good God. A spandex clad ass won’t be enough, you’ll need Chris Evans to get naked for you to be able to deal with this shit. Fuck it, you're watching Not Another Teen Movie.

It's 2 am, you’ve gone through four movies, and yet haven’t been able to gather enough sanity to text your best friend back.

He probably thinks you’re riding Seokjin’s dick by now. Which you would have been, had it not been for this uncalled for, absolutely unwelcome, highly inconvenient and horrendously intense attraction you’re feeling for him instead.

What is worse, it’s accompanied by telltale signs of a crush. What a nightmare to bear.

It all sounds like you’re being extra, but you’re actually just afraid.

The truth is – you're terrified of feelings; of getting too attached to somebody. And not just because you've seen how it can make people dependable, symbiotic to the point of being parasitic, the way they did your ex. But also because they change people in even more, even scarier ways.

Especially friends.

The moment that line is crossed from friendship to romance, everything is changed. At the risk of sounding morbid, you'd like to claim that everything is essentially ruined.

You've seen it happen to the closest of friends. The mask comes off, and everything that a person was as a friend – completely disappears as they assume the role of a partner. It never makes sense to you why this happens.

But your biggest fear in life is that it may happen to you. That it may happen with Jimin. You'd realized it when you were 19, so you'd crushed all the giddy feelings in you and moved on with your life as Jimin’s best friend.

And it worked out great, didn’t it? For eight whole years?

Fuck, what if fizzles out now, though?

“Fuck fuck fuck,” you muter to yourself, covering your face with both your palms.

You really don't wanna say it because it makes you feel like shit, especially given how normal Jimin was this morning, but… had you known getting physically close to him would lead to you getting so lost in your head, you would never have kissed Jimin. You would never have let that conversation with Avni play with your head for so long, in the first place.

Because all that has led you here, to this – leaving him on read and ignoring his face time calls. Poor guy probably just wants to know how your date went.

Well. Maybe you’ll answer him tomorrow.

Maybe you’ll be brave enough to confidently lie your way out of it. Maybe you'll be saner, more composed?

Tomorrow. You promise your self you'll be better tomorrow.

“Tomorrow.”

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