#jeans never look cool and loose and casual on me the way i want them too and theyre always SO fucking uncomfortable its infuriating

[cinnamon-toast-cronch]

I need to find jeans in a barrel like hayden ethelcain

[thatonebabybat]

Being Masc & Goth

This blog usually isn't fashion-focused, but I was thinking about alt fashion and how it's sometimes a struggle to figure out how to style things in a masc way if you're interested in darkalt fashion, but you don't want to go too casual or basic with it. So I thought I'd throw together some tips, link some DIYs, and maybe throw in a few moodboards. I want to preface this with one thing: You do NOT have to adhere to traditional gender roles. Fuck anyone who tells you that you do. If you're a guy and you want to get into alt fashion don't let anyone tell you that you can't pull off a skirt or a dress or a strappy top. Literally the whole point of being alt is Doing Whatever The Hell You Want Forever. However, not everyone feels comfortable in that (I made this post because I'm transmasc and sometimes the long gothic dresses make me dysphoric), and not everyone is safe to do that ( as much as it sucks ass, if you live in a conservative area sometimes it can be genuinely dangerous for guys to wear makeup and dresses in public, and your safety should always come first), so I thought I'd lay out some tips on how to dress alt and masc from my own experience. I'm still learning so feel free to leave your own advice in the replies or reblogs! General Styling Tips: - Jackets. Jackets, jackets, jackets. Something about a big jacket always seems to give an outfit a more masc energy, and adding a cool jacket to an outfit can be a great way to elevate it and add some extra visual interest. I like black blazers, leather jackets, and black denim jackets in particular, but vests (formal menswear ones or more casual denim or leather ones) can work well too, especially in hot weather. - Any basic black pair of jeans will look 100x more alt if you loosely attach some chains to the pockets or belt loops. Also, pants with wider legs tend to look more masc than tighter fits. not sure why. Slacks can also be a really good and underrated option. - If you want to find good headwear, cool sunglasses have never failed me. You may be able to take some inspiration from Ouji fashion as well, but that's just my personal taste. - If you have a basic piece around, you can add pins, patches, safety pins, etc for a more casual look, or if you're going for something more formal, trims and lace details and embroidery can really add interest and elegance to it. (if you can't sew, you can order iron-on embroidered patches online or find them in craft stores that'll do the trick just fine.) This can take your pair of slacks or plain black blazer and turn it into a piece of formal gothic menswear you can make a staple of your wardrobe. - Find inspiration in your favorite goth artists. There's a lot of really cool goth music out there and a lot of those bands get really innovative with their looks! Figure out what you like about their style and try incorporating a few things in, it's fun! - If you have an alt wardrobe already but it just seems like something's missing or it could use some interest, try switching up the silhouettes or adding an extra layer! Seriously, don't be scared of playing with textures and sleeve shapes! I see a lot of dudes who just wear a band tee and a pair of jeans all the time, and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that, that can be a great look! But I think a lot of dudes just genuinely think that that's their only option and that everything else just "wasn't made for them" and that makes me a little sad. shred up some shirts and layer them, wear some bell sleeves, throw some extra safety pins or studs on, have fun! No one said masc fashion couldn't be fun. Unisex/Masc DIY Videos I Found:

... And Some Inspiration!

[These are all goth music artists, I wrote the band/artist names in small text on the images that were not already watermarked for those who are curious]

[am-i-soup]

Hot Wheels (a tfp fanfic)

Chapter 1: Uncanny Valley, Nevada

AO3 || Chapter 2 (peek)

Summary: So, Lena was abducted by aliens. Robot aliens. That's- no, it's not cool! She could die at any moment! So what if the red guy was hilarious to rile up and watched horror movies with her? And his husband was like the fun uncle she never had? Their boss wouldn't hesitate to step on her, and the screechy beanpole had already threatened to stab her, like, five times. She can only bullshit her way into being useful for so long. If she could just find a way to contact Miko... oh, and get help. That, too.

-----

When Lena thought of aliens, she pictured xenomorphs and flesh abominations like that thing from The Thing: vaguely man-ish shapes that make your brain go "Hey, I don't like that" because why does it share the same body plan as a human? Why is it trying to look like us? She was all over that uncanny valley-type shit. Invasion? Get that girl a baseball bat and some vaguely spherical objects and set her loose. Unleeess the aliens had plans to abolish capitalism - because then she'd switch up lickety-split. She was ready to bash in some billionaire brains (what little they had, heheh).

Lena never would've guessed alien cars. She didn't even think 'alien' when the door of the speed demon she giddily tried to get an autograph from opened to reveal no driver at all. The only thought running through her mind when a taser popped out of the dash was, Even the cars are opps, followed by, Jean's gonna be so pissed. Her skateboard clattered to the pavement as her body fell limp into the idling sports car. A melodious beep-beep, beep, beep-beep twittered from the watch around her limp wrist, falling silent after another light zap.

"Ohh, I'm so fragged," said the sports car. "Breakdown, how mad do you think Lord Crazy-eyes will be if I show up with a fleshie?"

Had Lena known she'd get abducted that night, she would've at least packed a sweater. Or, y'know, avoided it altogether. Catching up to the shmancy red racer with those hard-as-hell yellow rims after he dusted everyone else probably wasn't the smartest move, but excitement had won over caution. Her foster parents would be giving her the most baffled reactions if they knew, and then another conversation about impulsive thoughts that should stay thoughts and, "Where is your survival instinct, pastelita? Look: you're already giving me greys."

The day had started good. Correction: decent, considering it was hot as balls and she had a math test. On a Friday. Lena shambled through her morning routine and tied back her side-swept hair to avoid brushing it. Her baseball cap covered the shaved side, proudly displaying the number 04 stitched above the red brim. Wyatt emerged from his bedroom, a similar case of bedhead making his brown curls wilder than usual. His casual formalwear was more put-together than he, and would remain so because brushing was for dumb losers, probably.

Jean, notably not dumb or a loser, had pulled her hair up into a thick bun of dark waves; a colourful bandana laid overtop. Remarkedly more effort, made obvious by the minimal effort of matching with work overalls.

Jean squinted and gestured to Lena's hair. "You're leaving so much out. What's even the point of putting it up?"

"I like it," Lena drowsily defended, flicking her head aside to adjust the free chunk of blonde hair framing one side of her face. "It's cool."

"'Cool' when we were your age meant being able to see your whole field of vision. Eesh, at least clip it back - how do you expect to see the ball like that?" Lena responded with a shrug and Jean exhaled in a huff. "Alright, pastelita, get your 'cool'-lata in the car." Jean carried out her husband's mobility aid and said, "You want your cane, hon?"

"Eh, might as well," Wyatt said whilst fighting a yawn. "My knee doesn't want me dead today."

The three of them piled into the car and Jean pulled onto the road. Lena decided now was a good time.

"I was gonna go to the skate park after practice," she announced.

Jean glanced at her in the mirror. There went the eyebrows. "For how long?"

"Couple'a hours."

"Uh-huh." And the dubious tone...

"Promise I'll be back before dark! And Jaiden and the other skaters are gonna be there. I won't forget again."

Wyatt twisted around to see Lena better. "That's fine. Just set your watch, 'kay? Seven o'clock. I better hear that front door open before seven thirty or I'll sic Jean on you."

"Like a sack of potatoes," Jean said. The car's engine rumbled fiercely as they paused at the stop light, amplifying her threat.

Remembering last time - and the times before that - Lena's face contorted. A set of rapid nods turned her into a great impersonation of a bobblehead. "Yep. Yep. Seven. Understood." She set the alarm on her vibrantly pink watch under Wyatt's scrutiny. It beeped. He smiled, satisfied, and settled properly in his seat.

Lena helped Wyatt extract his walker from the trunk and Jean drove off with a goodbye that was far more cheerful than anyone should be this early in the morning. It was pay day, wasn't it? Lena should ask Wyatt to sneak her some coffee from the break room. He caved easy.

Wyatt went through the side door up the ramp while Lena trudged her way toward the main entrance of the school. He was thrilled for class, which made one of them. Only he could make computers and programming somehow fun. Other students waited on the sparse lawn and parking lot of Jasper Memorial High School, walking in early like punctual weirdos or loitering like her. Lena dropped her backpack and stepped onto her board, rolling around the tiny parking lot. She sourly eyed the spot of the missing bench, removed for exactly the reason one might think. Lena mourned the sick moves she got off that metal bench.

Lena spotted a kid from class studying and groaned. She'd skip, but she didn't want to disappoint her foster parents like that again. She cringed when she recalled the first time she did skip - or, rather, the first time they becameaware she'd skipped - back when she wouldn't bat an eye because what did they care? They just wanted a cheque from the state like every other family that tried to claim they 'Just want what's best for you' and then sent her back when what she wanted didn't fit those rigid little boxes.

The devastated looks on Jean and Wyatt's faces when thirteen-year-old Lena exploded at them was forever burned into her memory. She'd ran afterward, down the driveway and into the night, no destination in mind. And then Jean had found her, curled up on a kiddie slide. Lena faintly remembered the confusion of seeing Jean exit the vehicle, the tentative hope when Jean sat on the slide beside her and just... listened. No adult had ever listened to her before. That was the night Lena knew they were for real. Lena couldn't call them parents - she might never utter the words 'Mom' or 'Dad' - and that was okay. The cool couple that saw a feral pre-teen and said, "That's the one" was good enough for her. They joked about wanting a kid, but not the stress of pregnancy or toddler years. "Pre-baked," Wyatt had once teased.

Lena's hip bleeped. She paused her skating to fish out the hungry Tamagotchi clipped to her cargo pants. She'd made it her mission to care for the digital pet since Mi-

"Leee!" a voice squealed, followed by a pair of arms wrapping around her waist. "Hi!"

Hey, speaking of!

"Hi," Lena greeted with a big smile on her face. "Plans still solid?"

Lena heard Miko's grin. "Oh, yeah. I'm so pumped. Weekend Wreck-fest is in. The. Bag! I got Raf to download basically every slasher and horror onto a USB for me." Miko dangled the USB in Lena's face, and Lena stored it in her pocket.

"Suh-weet! Jean's letting us have the garage. We're gonna move the TV and couch in."

"Uh, don'tcha mean Jean is gonna move them?"

"Hey, I got muscle!" Lena flexed her arms, squishy with stubborn baby fat. Miko poked an unimpressive bicep. "These babies got me top batter."

"Is that even a real title?"

"It totally is."

"Okay, 'batter baby'."

"Batt- what?"

"Nothing, baby, what's the batter with you?"

Lena scoffed out a laugh and spun around to gently bop Miko on her massive forehead. "Dude," Lena said, "that was so bad."

"So bad it's good?"

"No, just bad." Lena playfully pushed Miko away and kicked off on her skateboard. "Where are you getting these, Puns 101 for Dummies? You gotta step up your game, dude."

Miko trailed after Lena, a bubbly bound to her gait. "Hey, I'm always at the top of my game!" A loud-ass horn honked and Miko spun around to wave enthusiastically at the green SUV. "See ya later! Put some dents in those junkheaps for me." Its headlights flashed, then Miko's friend drove off.

Lena was wary of the guy at first, but she'd never seen Miko so ecstatic as the few months she'd known him. Military, Miko had said, and then snickered when Lena mimed gagging herself.

"Not American military," Miko had clarified before going off about something else.

Lena had spoken to the SUV's owner a couple times. He went by the nickname Bulk and seemed genuine enough, nothing sinister on the surface. Friendly and loud - songs Lena recognized often blared from the speakers when he picked Miko up for sci-fi club. A goofball, and the kind of energy that got along with Miko's like a house fire. Lena was just glad Miko was making friends. Small town middle-of-nowhere America was super rough, especially for a foreign kid who couldn't fit in, and who didn't want to. A flash of orange hair caught Lena's eye. She met Vince's bitter gaze and put her finger and her thumb in the shape of an L on her forehead, sticking out her tongue for good measure. He sneered and turned back to his buddies. Lena smirked.

The bell rang. Kids funneled into the building. Lena made it halfway to homeroom before she had to navigate backwards against the sea of teenagers to fetch her forgotten backpack. She collapsed into her chair just as the pledge and national anthem started over the PA system. As per usual, Lena remained in her seat. Also per usual, the teacher glared at her. Lena passive-aggressively adjusted her baseball cap, drawing attention to the pins clustered on it that sported all sorts of slogans such as THIS LAND IS THEIR LAND and LAND ISN'T FREE. Yeah, none of the teachers liked her. But Lena wasn't here to be liked. Supposedly, she was here for an education. In a system that squashed individuality and trained students to sit down, shut up, memorize, and obey.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lena spotted Miko doodling in her sketchbook. Lena texted a sequence of emojis embodying all the joy Lena couldn't contain (unamused, several Z's, sleepy). Miko replied, equally as zealous (sick, skull, ghost).

"Girls! Phones away!" the teacher barked over announcements, tapping a ruler on her desk. "Do I need to take them?"

Lena shot over one more emoji (barf) before tucking her phone away and exchanging it for a textbook to inanely flick through, one knee persistently jiggling as it so frequently did the moment she became idle. She glanced at the clock, which hadn't moved in five minutes. Lena leaned back, suppressing a groan. The day could not be over soon enough.

Soon enough, the day was over. Thank fuck.

School dragged on and on and on, the only reprieve being lunch - when she got to lounge around with Miko at their spot - and gym class, where Lena was able to go batshit during dodgeball and climb on things that were actually meant to be climbed on (trees didn't count, according to faculty). Lena had softball practice after, and boy, was she glad Jean made her carry around a tube of sunscreen. Whoof, that Nevada sun would kill a man. Miko hung around to cheer her on and snap some pics of Lena eating dirt to touch base. Those were going in the scrapbook, for sure. A shower and chugged water bottle later and Lena was off to the skate park. Miko's ride whisked her away, her cries of, "Don't miss me too much!" on the wind. Miko hung out the SUV window, dramatically reaching for Lena like some cheesy romance flick. Lena tried to keep up on her board, and when it was time to split off, blew Miko a kiss that was caught and turned into devil horns.

Jaiden and her gang were chilling on the play structures when Lena rolled up. Jaiden and Kayla were perched atop and hanging upside-down from the spiderweb dome, respectively. Kayla spotted her first and beckoned her over.

"How's it goin', fireball?" said Tami.

"Hello, Padawan. Welcome to my zen zone," Vee said from the ground, flat on their back under a tree and beanie pulled over their eyes. The distinct scent of weed hung around Vee. Lena claimed the free swing next to Tami, who was being pushed by Theo. The group chatted. Theo made the executive decision to skate, and they all migrated over to the cement playground that served as Jasper's skate park. Jaiden, Lena, and Tami joined him while Vee and Kayla spectated, conversation topics leaping to and fro at the whims of neurodivergent teenagers.

"Yo, Lena, you hear about the race later tonight?" Jaiden said.

Suffice it to say, Lena did not stay at the park. The race location was scribbled in her science notebook, which had also coincidentally become a second doodle book for Miko. She rolled till the dirt roads forced her to kick it on foot, board strapped to her backpack.

Honk-honk!

A bright blue muscle car rumbled past. Lena trotted after it. The older teens that she stuck to like a determined burr had no interest in street races, but they kept an ear out for Lena, who absolutely did. She found the small crowd huddled around and the line-up of vehicles raring to go. Lena preferred being early to ogle at the cars and mingle, but she was happy just to be there. She recognized most of the faces. Street races were one of few recreational activities in Jasper, and they happened every other week if you knew the right people. Considering everyone knew everyone, you'd be hard-pressed not to have at least heard about it.

The blue muscle car sat in its spot, driver cool as a cucumber as she leaned on the door and chatted to whomever. Lena eyeballed the woman's cropped leather jacket and unbothered, confident demeanour. She found herself leaning against a rickety wooden fencepost, totally not mimicking the badass in blue (dammit, she totally was). The driver noticed her and smiled. For some reason, Lena's face heated up.

She called Lena over. "Hey, kid! Nice board. You get that custom done?"

"Yup," said Lena. "I love your car." And your jacket.

"Ah, thanks. Ritika's my baby; I built her from the ground up. You like racing?"

"I love racing. The speed and the- augh, the, y'know, the everything. Boom! Wah-cha!" Combined with pantomimed punches, Lena filled in the blanks. "The whole feeling."

"Ha, yeah, I getcha. Hey, you know what? I'm part of a racing league. We're always looking for new players. If you're interested someday- dhhatt. You got a pen, kid?"

"Lena," Lena said, digging a pencil out of her bag.

"Lena? Thanks for comin' out to cheer me on. My name's Sharwa." Sharwa scribbled on a wrinkled scrap of paper and passed it on. "That's our business number. Hit us up if racing for profit - or just for the hell of it - strikes your fancy. Finish school first, though, huh? Get your education. Don't wanna be a dropout like me."

I wish, Lena thought. Someone yelled; they were about to begin. Lena went to join the crowd of onlookers, but the glossy red sports car pulling up to the function stopped her in her tracks. Lena gawked. Purple flame decals embellished its crimson flanks and eye-sore yellow rims distinguished it from the rest of the competition. Sharwa called out to the driver; Lena didn't hear the reply. Sharwa was grinning. Oh, shit, did they have a rivalry going on? Racing drama!?

Lena inched closer.

"Give it your best shot," oozed a roguish masculine voice, punctuated by a rich rev of his engine. "Victory tastes so much sweeter when they try."

Sharwa laughed. "Put your pedal where your mouth is, batuni."

"Oh, I will."

Racing drama. Cool.

Engines growled. Spectators cheered. The starter raised their hat. Lena held her breathe.

The hat dropped. Dust billowed up in thick clouds as cars roared to life. Lena held her cap in place. Her eyes stung, but she couldn't look away from the beasts tearing up the road, becoming shrinking shapes on the impromptu racetrack. The setting sun burned red on the sand, transforming the desert into a sea of rust. Or blood. Lena scampered over to a cluster of boulders and scaled them. She watched, enraptured. The racers completed one lap, and there was a noticeable lead.

The red car seized a strong first. Chasing his tail was Sharwa and third place, the rest of the pack lagging behind. Red slowed down - or Sharwa caught up? - and then the 180 happened.

Red spun around, keeping his speed and maintaining his position backwards. It was the single most peacocky maneuver Lena had seen, and she was living for it. She wasn't big on NASCAR or actual cars: this is what she loved. Being in the moment, feeling the wind on her skin and the excitement in her veins. It was the thrill she chased when she rolled down steep ramps and pulled a risky stunt mid-air. It was the feeling of rejecting limits and just going for it.

The moment red finished first was the same moment the cops showed up.

"Scatter!" someone shouted, but the crowd had already dispersed. Lena dropped from her watchtower and bolted in the same direction as the victor. Cracked pavement replaced packed dirt and Lena jumped onto her board. Distant sirens wailed behind her. Shadows elongated. Lights of Jasper blinked in the low glow of dusk. Lena caught up to the taillights, to her surprise. Possible introductions ran through her head.

"Hey!" The car jolted in response. Did she startle him? "Wait up!" He sped up, and Lena yelled, "You were awesome back there! Nobody even stood a chance!"

He slowed to a crawl. Lena beamed and kicked her board up into her hands. The car's windows were tinted almost black.

"Hmm. Do go on about how awesome I am," he said.

Lena appealed to his ego with genuine compliments. He was receptive, but that changed when Lena asked him to sign her skateboard. If a car could recoil, this one would. Audible disgust dripped from his tone.

"Keep your primitive twig on wheels to yourself," he said. "There's enough filth clinging to my paint already."

Lena wrinkled her nose. "A 'no' would've worked just fine. Jeez, man. You a dick to all your fans?"

"Just the whiny ones."

Lena wasn't about to let that slide. "Alright. Why don't you come out and say that to my face like a grown-ass man?"

Now, Lena... well, she never claimed to be a genius, but picking a fight with a random man on the outskirts of town - illuminated overhead by a sketchy streetlight - would be obvious to anyone as a bad idea. If this was a horror movie, she'd be yelling at the idiot on-screen to get the fuck outta dodge. Lena, however, functioned on two modes: chilling, and throwing herself at the closest douchebag. Her street cred was insane. So when she rapped on the nearly opaque window, she expected some guy to step out and underestimate her because what could a fifteen-year-old do to him? But nobody did. She cupped a hand around her eyes to peer inside.

The wind was knocked out of her when the door flew open. She stumbled, then rounded the door to confront the-

There was no one inside the vehicle.

A taser shot out of the dashboard and delivered a hearty zap! between her eyes. She toppled forward. A seatbelt snaked around her and hauled her awkwardly into the seat.

Lena's watch beeped. 7:00 lit up the digital display.

Getting kidnapped was probably a good reason for missing curfew, right?

AO3 || Chapter 2 (peek)

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

The Dating Game [Part Two]

Fandom: Harry Potter [Marauders Era]

Pairing: Sirius Black x Original Female Character, James Potter x Original Female Character, James Potter x Lily Evans

Characters: James Potter, Sirius Black, Lily Evans, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Dorcas Meadow, Original Female Character, Marlene McKinnon, Mary MacDonald, Sabrina Lovegood

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 5897

Summary: James and Sabrina decide to play the dating game.

Tags/Warnings: Fake Dating, Fake Couple, Kissing, Jealousy, Quidditch, Arguing, Angst, Fluff, MASTERLISTS // TAG LIST

Notes: Sabrina face claim Sabrina Carpenter <3

PART ONE // PART TWO // PART THREE

Following their agreement James and Sabrina hadn’t really spoken about what ‘dating’ would mean. Now that she was no longer sulking he suggested they go and finish studying in the library rather than a drab toilet block and in there it was too crowded to talk about logistics which is probably why she found a very frantic looking James loitering in the common room the following morning, trying to appear as though he wasn’t waiting for her. 

‘Hey Sabs,’ he said, with an awkward smile as she appeared from the staircase. He was dressed in a shirt and jeans, his coat tossed over the ratty couch he was perched on the top of, talking to Sirius who turned as she appeared.

‘Hey,’ she said, glancing at Sirius. She was still miffed at him and irritated that her heart sped up at a mere glance his way. He too was dressed in muggle clothes but where James stayed neat and presentable (until it got to that messy mop of hair) Sirius seemed to thrive in scruffiness. His T-shirt hung loose on his athletic frame, his jacket was unzipped and his choice of shoe was a pair of doc martens she knew he’d bought to annoy his mother. He looked effortlessly cool and irritatingly handsome.

‘We’re waiting for Moony, heading off to the village if you want to join?’ James said.

‘Oh I think I’m meeting Mar,’ Sabrina said which was true but from the look on James’ face she knew it wasn’t a casual invitation. He wanted to speak to her. Sirius however didn’t catch the look on his friend’s face and grew sheepish, appearing to take her rebuttal as a continuation of her sulking.

‘I think she already went down with Mary,’ Sirius said quietly.

‘Oh,’ Sabrina replied.

‘Like I said, you're welcome to join us,’ James said, his eyes widening with suggestion. Sabrina smiled in recognition, ‘yeah, why not.’

‘I’ll just go and check where he is,’ James said, pushing up off the couch and heading to the stairwell. Once he was gone, just leaving the two of them behind in awkward silence, Sabrina folded her arms across her chest suddenly very interested in staring at the soft pink of her new nail polish. She could feel Sirius watching her and she could hear James’ words in her head - ‘He’s different when it comes to people he cares about’. She wanted to believe that was true but she still felt unsure until she heard him clear his throat to get her attention, his face remorseful when she looked up at him.

‘We’re alright aren’t we?’ he asked, genuine worry weaved in his tone which admittedly made her feel better.

‘You upset me,’ she said truthfully.

‘Never said I wasn’t a prat,’ he said, nudging her foot with his shoe. Sabrina smiled and rolled her eyes, ‘at least you’re aware.’

‘Yep,’ Sirius grinned, ‘even if I wasn’t the bollocking James gave me is enough to get anyone up to speed.’

‘James bollocked you?’ she asked, shocked.

‘Him and Moony take it in turns,’ Sirius said, ‘they have a point though. Sorry about yesterday.’

‘It’s fine,’ she said.

‘Yeah?’ he asked.

‘Yeah me and James talked it out. Not a big deal,’ she said.

‘Oh good,’ Sirius said, only half surprised it had been James to convince her to let him back in her good books. After all, cleaning up his messes was practically James’ full-time job at this point, ‘he’s a good one that Prongs.’

‘Yeah he is,’ Sabrina agreed. 

✵✵✵

‘So what do we do?’ James murmured in Sabrina’s ear. He was standing behind her, perusing the table of neatly stacked books or at least pretending to. They hadn’t gotten a minute to talk about anything let alone tactics and she could tell he was growing antsy with waiting. Whenever they did pranks it was like this, where the others could bide their time and plan he wanted to rush in hence why he’d asked Lily out nigh on fifty times this year. Sabrina picked up a book and turned to show it to him. To anyone else they’d just look like they were perusing the offerings of Hogsmeade finest book shop, Tomes and Scrolls, rather than planning a fake relationship.

‘What do you mean?’ she asked quietly.

‘Well do I ask you out? Do we hold hands and tell them we’ve got together?’ James probed. 

‘No, no nothing like that yet if we go over the top they’ll know somethings not right,’ she reasoned to herself more than anyone. No, This needed finesse. 

‘So what?’ James asked, taking the book from her and flipping through a couple of pages. It gave her an excuse to lean in, close enough no one would be able to hear without being stood right next to them, placing her hand on his arm as she looked over the book.

‘I don’t know, maybe you mention how we had a good chat yesterday, lay the foundations of something changing, spend some time together just the two of us and then just announce it happened naturally.’

‘Mm,’ James said, his gaze still on the book, his glasses perched on the end of his nose.

‘What?’ Sabrina asked self-consciously. James grinned, ‘nothing. But considering you’re not a marauder you’re quite good at this prank stuff.’

After the bookshop they decided to head to the three broomsticks to avoid the slight chill blowing through the village which had been trying its best to bask in the spring sunshine. It was crowded inside with other students having the same idea but they spotted Marlene and Mary tucked away at the back, waving them over.

‘Fancy a drink?’ Sirius asked, looking back at his friends as he headed towards the bar.

‘Butter beer please mate,’ James said.

‘Make it two,’ Remus added.

‘Bri?’ He asked. Sabrina hesitated and glanced at her watch. She’d only come to the village for quills but since they were early she’d opted to follow them around. Now time was ticking on and though she’d come inside to get out of the cold she did have a choir practice to get to. But Sirius was watching her, those puppy dog eyes in full force. He’d been better today, overcompensating for their crossed word but still his natural charming self. She loved him like that and unwilling to let it go just yet she said, ‘a quick one. I’ve got choir in an hour.’

Sirius gave her a fake salute and headed to the bar before she headed to join the table of her friends. Marlene and Mary were on a booth side and Remus and James had taken a stool each around the table which meant there was only one seat left at the table and glancing around she didn’t spot any others free. Noticing her predicament James scooted over, leaving half a seat for her to perch on, his arm around her hip so that she wasn’t falling off. None of them seemed to notice because Mary was too busy grinning at her friend as she said, ‘hey Sabs.’

‘Hi,’ Sabrina replied.

‘Thought you couldn’t stay in the village today,’ Mary said casually though her eyes were locked on Sabrina as if she had something up her sleeve.

‘I’ve gotta go soon,’ Sabrina said, as Sirius appeared at her side and placed a tray of butterbeers on the table. He doled out the drinks, receiving looks of appreciation in return as Mary continued, ‘that’s a shame you could’ve said hi to Gabe. He’s been looking over here every five seconds.’

‘I’m not stopping,’ Sabrina said, fighting the urge to look at where Gabriel was sitting. 

‘He’ll be crushed,’ Marlene giggled. Sabrina said nothing and picked up her butterbeer, taking a sip and hoping the sweet foam would be enough to make her not feel guilty about turning the boy down. Though as she did she locked eyes with Sirius who seemed unsure about how to tackle the topic given his previous input had not been well received. As he lowered his gaze though he noticed James’ hand planted firmly on Sabrina’s hip, his thumb entangled in the belt loop. Which is probably why James felt her tense, uncomfortable at the scrutiny, and promptly changed the topic to quidditch.

Sabrina kept quiet though most of the afternoon. It wasn’t exactly comfortable sitting in the pub feeling three sets of eyes on her but she didn’t want to flee for the second day in a row. James kept glancing at her making sure she was okay given how quiet she was. Sirius kept looking at her oddly, as if he wanted to ask her something but couldn’t find the words. And there was a distinct hot patch on the back of her head where Gabriel kept staring, not stupid enough, probably hurt but too proud to come and ask if she had lied about being free to spare his feelings. 

Fortunately time finally ticked on close enough to her choir practice start time that her leaving wouldn’t be weird. With an exaggerated look at her watch she grabbed her bag and said, ‘I should probably head back. I’ve got choir practice.’

‘Rather you than me that wind looks Baltic,’ Mary said, looking out the window at the wizards and witches who hurried past looking windswept and ruddy from cold.

‘I’ll be fine,’ Sabrina said, grabbing her bag from under the table. Even though she’d only gone down to the village for quills it had managed to become quite heavy, with not only her extra spoils but Sirius, James and Remus’, all of them looking at her with begging expressions before she took whatever they’d bought and dumped it into her bag. She groaned under the weight. 

‘Here give us that,’ James said, taking the bag from her, unbothered by the heaviness, ‘I’ll walk you up.’

‘You don’t need to,’ Sabrina said though her shoulder was already aching from the tiniest lift.

‘I don’t mind,’ James said, standing up tall and placing the bag on their vacated stool whilst he got his jacket on. Sabrina looked at him curiously but not having the time to waste threw on her own coat. 

‘Why don’t we all head back,’ Sirius said, looking between them both.

‘Nah it’s alright mate,’ James said, swinging the bag over his shoulder, ‘right Sabs?’

‘Yeah,’ Sabrina said, unfurling her hair from where it nestled in the collar of her coat, ‘see you guys later.’

‘See you later,’ Mary, Marlene and Remus replied as the pair began to weave through the tables. Sirius watched them go before turning back to his butterbeer, a pout on his face.

Mary was right, the wind was bitter outside, hitting Sabrina’s face like little needles as they made their way through the village and onto the path back to the castle. She was quiet, focusing on trying to stop her teeth from chattering when she felt James’ eyes on her and looked to find him watching her, a smile on his face.

‘What?’ she asked with a smile.

‘Nothing,’ he shrugged, ‘you okay?’

‘Fine why?’ she replied.

‘You felt off, in the pub I mean,’ he said. He had been watching her most of the time, quiet and thoughtful. Sabrina sighed, ‘I felt bad about Gabe.’

‘Ah,’ James said. They had slowed down, the path in front of them now slick with a thick, muddy puddle that students had churned into slop as they walked to and from the village. James moved to the edge of the path and took a long stride, dipping his trainers in the shallowest spot of slutch so that he could launch himself to the other side of the water. Sabrina watched him go with envy. He was quite a bit taller than her and had an athletic grace about him that helped him get along with no issue at all. For her it was probably going to be a staggered squelch through the muck that would leave her muddy for choir practice and that was if Filch didn’t catch her first.

‘Here,’ James said, seeing her trying to plan her route. He offered his hand out, and she took it gratefully, allowing him to direct her until she was safely on terra firma.

‘Thanks,’ she said, as they started up the path. To her surprise he didn’t let go of her hand, his slender fingers wrapping around her small ones. His hand was cold, but so was hers so she couldn’t complain.

‘You didn’t have to come with me you know,’ she said. The castle was coming into view now, the grey stone looking darker as the bright spring afternoon lit it from behind.

‘I wanted to make sure you were okay,’ he said, offering her a smile that grew cheekier as he said, ‘besides a boyfriend would.’

✵✵✵

Over the next couple of days Sabrina and James put all their efforts into seeming quite the couple. They didn’t tell anyone but they did everything they could to arouse suspicion. Sitting together at meal times, disappearing to the library together, appearing together everywhere they went. She laughed at his jokes, an obscene giggle she had never heard come from her lips before and he was distinctly more familiar with her, carrying her bag, letting her rest her feet on him when they lay on the couch, her head on his shoulder during long study sessions. It didn’t take long for people to start noticing the difference but it was a while before anyone dared ask outright and of course it was Mary who did it first.

‘Okay what’s going on?’ she said, turning to look at Sabrina who had been sitting on the bench beside her reading her book instead of watching the gryffindor quidditch practice she’d been dragged to. She had been endeavouring to watch, something that the girlfriend of a quidditch superstar would do, but the game didn’t really interest her and so she had given up half way through. Apparently so had Mary, watching her instead of the game, an accusing look on her pretty face.

‘What do you mean?’ Sabrina asked, closing her book as she mustered her most innocent expression.

‘You and Potter,’ Mary said.

‘What about me and Potter?’ Sabrina asked.

‘Somethings going on,’ Marlene said from Mary’s other side. Sabrina looked between them, not daring to look at Lily beside her as she took a breath and said, ‘we’re dating.’

‘I knew it!’ Mary giggled.

‘Oh my god,’ Marlene gasped.

‘Since when?’ Lily asked, decidedly less amused than her other friends. Sabrina looked at her, a sympathetic smile on her face. Lily looked irritable but Sabrina knew there was only one reason for that. She didn’t have much chance to dwell on it though as Mary slapped her thigh to get her attention and said, ‘come on.’

‘Oh, um, about a week,’ Sabrina said.

‘How did that happen?’ Marlene asked excitedly.

‘We just got to talking, after the Gabe thing, I was a bit upset and he checked up on me. He was really sweet actually,’ Sabrina blushed.

‘But I thought he liked Lily,’ Mary frowned.

‘Probably just like winding me up,’ Lily sniped.

‘He wasn’t,’ Sabrina said, ‘but you don’t like him right?’

‘Course not,’ Lily said, utterly unconvincing. Marlene and Mary shared a look as a palpable tension settled between the girls.

‘Because if you do I would-’

‘I don’t like James bloody Potter,’ Lily grumbled.

‘Okay, okay, just checking,’ Sabrina said. She’d known the redhead was stubborn but this was unparallelled. Fortunately Mary was the one who spoke next.

‘Well that’s good. If you two like each other why not,’ Mary said, ‘he is proper fit.’

‘Hey you should be careful Mary, he’s a taken man now,’ Marlene giggled, deepening Lily’s scowl.

‘I don’t mind,’ Sabrina giggled, trying her best to ignore the red head. After all, she had a chance to speak up now but she wasn’t. She could put a stop to all this lunacy once and for all if she was just honest with herself and still nothing.

‘I bet,’ Marlene said, before she stood up, noticing that the team were now descending one by one to the ground and headed into the changing rooms, ‘c’mon they’re finished.’

Sabrina stood, throwing her book back into her bag and smoothing out her skirt until it was no longer crumpled. As the girls shuffled out of the bench Lily placed her hand on Sabrina’s arm forcing her to stop, ‘congratulations I suppose.’

‘Thanks,’ Sabrina said and with that Lily pushed past her and followed her friends down towards the changing rooms.

Sabrina trudged along behind them rolling her eyes at how stubborn Lily was being. She just wished she would get it over with. Be open and honest about her feelings for once. After all, hadn't she been putting James through the wringer just for the sake of it? She tried to put it out of her mind and let her sulk, but her idea was thwarted as Mary called out to where James and Sirius were appearing out of the changing rooms, now decked out in their normal clothes rather than flying gear.

‘Oi Potter,’ she hollered, causing the pair of them to look her way, ‘congrats.’

‘What for?’ James asked, his brow furrowed. Sabrina knew where it was going and rather than have Mary scream it throughout the grounds she pushed herself forward and said, ‘I told them.’

‘Told them, oh, told them,’ James said, his thoughts clicking into place as she stared at him pointedly, ‘thanks MacDonald.’

‘Told them what?’ Sirius asked gruffly from beside him.

‘We’re dating,’ James said, offering an arm out for Sabrina to climb under. She moved quickly to him, nestling into his side in a way that made Mary and Marlene giggle and Sirius and Lily’s unimpressed looks deepen.

‘Since when?’ Sirius asked with a scowl.

‘About a week,’ James said, analysing his best friend's face for any trace of anger or hurt, not entirely unconvinced Sirius wouldn’t lamp him then and there. But no, Sirius was much too proper for that and forced his face into something neutral, his anger not on James but Sabrina as he accusingly said, ‘I thought you didn’t want to date anyone.’

‘Well he’s not just anyone is he,’ she said, ignoring the flutter in her stomach at his disapproval instead leaning into James’s shoulder. Lily looked away.

‘Soppy gits,’ Marlene teased.

With that they made their way back to the castle, Hogwarts hottest couple striding ahead with Marlene and Mary asking several questions as they headed back up the path to the castle. Sirius and Lily brought up the rear, trudging silently behind their friends, sulky faces mirroring one another. 

After a while Lily managed to get a hold of herself, scarfing down dinner and proceeding to the library, but Sirius remained glum and muttered something about heading to bed the moment he’d finished his pudding. James and Sabrina shared a look but said nothing other than polite goodbyes. 

When James did go to bed all three of his dorm mates were already up there pottering about their bedsides as prepared for sleep. James went to his bed without a word, kicking his shoes under the bed and shirking his jacket off. Remus was sitting in the bed next to him, reading peacefully, and he could hear Peter in the bathroom finishing up brushing his teeth before he appeared a second later. He didn’t dare look over at Sirius who was throwing his clothes wherever they landed as he shoved on his pyjamas. James had just pulled his shirt off when he heard Remus speak, not looking up from his book as he said, ‘the rumour mill says you and Sabs are dating.’

As his gaze went to James so did everyone else’s, Peter's mouth dropping open as he heard the news for the first time. He could feel Sirius glaring at him but he kept his focus on Remus as he replied, ‘yeah we are.’

‘Since when?!’ Peter gasped.

‘Couple of days,’ James shrugged, for once feeling hot under true scrutiny, his normal penchant for attention all but vanished.  

‘Bloody hell!’ Peter beamed, ‘congrats mate.’

‘Thanks,’ James said hesitantly as he looked at Remus who seemed less enthused, ‘aren’t you happy for me Moony?’

‘Are you happy?’ Remus asked.

‘Course,’ James said.

‘Then of course I am,’ Remus shrugged though he glanced over at Sirius, who gaze was now intently fixed on undoing his watch.  James cleared his throat and without thinking the black haired boy looked up.

‘You alright mate?’ James asked. Now was his chance. All he had to do was admit to the feelings he blatantly had. But he didn't, instead he diverted his attention to another topic, one that made James’ insides churn as it required lying.

‘What about Lily?’ he asked, throwing his now undone watch on the bedside table. James swallowed.

‘What about her?’ he asked, praying his voice wouldn’t crack.

‘You’ve talked about her every day since third year,’ Sirius said.

‘Yeah and she’s clearly not interested in me,’ James said, the words hurting his mouth as they came out though he reminded himself of what Sabrina had said, why they were putting on this show in the first place, ‘might as well be with someone who does.’

‘If you’re just dating her for the sake of it-’ Sirius started angrily.

‘Since when do you care about treating girls properly,’ James said harshly. It was getting heated now, he could tell from the way Remus sat up, preparing to get involved if needed, but he didn’t back down. It didn’t have to be like this if Sirius would just be honest with himself, with his best friend. 

‘She’s my friend,’ Sirius said angrily.

‘Yeah and she’s my friend too,’ James replied just as irritably.

‘More apparently,’ Sirius sniped.

‘So? Have you got a problem with that?’ James baited.

‘Why would I?’ Sirius huffed, stomping towards the bathroom before slamming the door behind him angrily, the force of it making the thin windows rattle. James sighed and sat down on his bed.

‘I’m happy for you James,’ Peter said as he climbed into his own bed. James smiled weakly, ‘thanks mate.’ 

✵✵✵

To no one’s surprise James and Sabrina were the talk of the entire year. No one had seen this romance coming, with several confused about just how it had come about, and yet almost every began to accept them with only two exceptions. Lily seemed to have taken the slight on the chin, being overly okay with the pair of them, even when they added a hand holding or hug in front of her for flourish. Sirius however was in quite the mood and seemingly avoiding them whenever he could. James had commented on him not being around but he had shrugged and told him he was busy which was why James was surprised he’d opted to join their study session. In the run up to exams the great hall had been opened up in between meals to allow students more places to revise. It wasn’t as quiet as the library or as comfortable as the common room but it did encourage students to support one another which everyone needed during the busy season. Teachers had even started presiding over these periods, offering to mark practice essays or papers if students wanted it. 

James had just given his to Professor McGonagall who appeared at his shoulder and handed it back as she said, ‘well done Potter and good luck for tomorrow.’

‘Thanks Professor,’ James said, taking the piece of parchment from her to find Exceeds Expectations elegantly written in red ink at the top of his paper. He tucked it under his stack of homework with a smile. 

‘Ready for tomorrow then?’ Sabrina asked with a smile.

‘Think so,’ James said, ‘though the weathers not looking good so I’ll take all the luck McGonagall’s offering.’

‘You don’t need luck, you’ll be great,’ Sabrina said, rolling her eyes.

‘Well I have to be when my little cheerleader is in the stands,’ James teased. Sabrina giggled, her lack of interest for the game despite being his ‘girlfriend’ amusing them both. Especially considering Lily’s appreciation for quidditch had come out of the blue, James the topic of conversation in any post-match analysis she offered.

‘Oh I’ll be front and centre with my Pom poms,’ Sabrina mused.

‘Might even seal the victory with a kiss eh?’ Sirius said scathingly from across the table causing both their heads to turn to look at him. He wasn’t looking up, pretending to read from a heavy textbook though he must’ve been listening to be able to interject. It was the most he’d said all period.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ James asked tersely.

‘Nothing,’ Sirius shrugged, ‘I just find it odd that the two of you haven’t kissed yet.’

‘Who says?’ Sabrina scoffed. It was true, though they’d made a good show of it their feelings were still platonic and somehow kissing felt over the line even if it was pretend. She didn’t think anyone had noticed.

‘Well I haven’t seen you kiss him,’ Sirius said, his grey eyes challenging as he watched her before looking at those around and asking, ‘anyone else?’

No one replied but there were a couple of sceptical murmurs further up the table, a distinct thud as Mary slapped Marlene’s thigh making her fall quiet in case it interrupted the show. Sirius smirked.

‘Funny that.’

‘Well sorry to disappoint but this isn’t a window in Amsterdam,’ Sabrina snapped.

‘Sabs is right just because we don’t flaunt ourselves in front of you-’ James reasoned, earning a snort from Lily. As eyes turned towards her she pretended not to notice and shrugged, ‘well when has James Potter ever not flaunted something.’

‘Maybe some things are private,’ Sabrina snapped, grabbing her parchment and scrambling over the desk so that she could join the back of the queue for McGonagall. 

She was seething though she didn’t know why. Of course all this was to make them think they were dating so that they’d come clean but what was the point if they didn’t believe it? More importantly had they not said anything because they knew their friends were messing with them. 

She was about ten deep in the queue which was moving slowly as a beak nosed second year was holding it up, asking McGonagall a million questions about his upcoming transfiguration exam. She stood with her arms folded, pouting, but she straightened up when she felt someone come and stand behind her. As they leaned in and spoke she tensed.

‘You’re not dating are you,’ Remus’ soft soothing voice whispered in her ear. Sabrina whipped around, looking at his scarred face and finding a sympathetic smile breaking the one across his lips apart. She swallowed thickly, ‘of course, I mean why would…how did you know?’

‘Because you like Sirius as much as James likes Lily,’ he said simply, gesturing for her to move forward as the line moved up. This was what baffled her. How could every boy in Hogwarts see her true intentions but the one she wanted to. 

‘Oh,’ she said softly, ‘should’ve known you’d work it out.’

‘Only because he’s too busy moping to see what’s in front of his face,’ Remus whispered, his face growing thoughtful as he asked, ‘why?’

‘Because,’ Sabrina said as if that was an answer. Remus merely raised an eyebrow making her sigh and say, ‘because everyone seems to be intent on playing games instead of being bloody honest! We just figured we would join in, see if it made a difference.’

‘Ah,’ Remus said knowingly, meandering forward another step. They were only a couple of people away from McGonagall now and moving quickly as the older years had no time or want to chit chat with her and simply handed over their work without issue. 

‘Don’t say anything,’ Sabrina pleaded, dropping a voice to a whisper just in case her house mistress was listening. No doubt if she knew she’d put a stop to all this silliness whether that just be for the benefit of the quidditch scores she didn’t know.

‘My lips are sealed,’ Remus said as the pair of them redhed the front and handed over their essays. McGonagall nodded curtly and tucked them to the back of her pile.

As they turned around James appeared, his bag slung over his shoulder and a scowl on his face though it relaxed as he approached them. Sabrina felt her stomach flip flop wondering what she had missed.

‘Everything okay?’ Remus asked first.

‘Everyone keeps muttering about us kissing,’ James sighed, looking at Sabrina as he said, ‘wanna go?’

Sabrina looked down the table to where Sirius was sitting a self satisfied smirk, one that always roused whenever he was immensely pleased with himself,which he evidently was now that he had gotten the students around them buzzing about their personal displays of affection. She sighed, she did still have things to be doing work wise but there was no way she'd be able to sit still hearing everyone rabbit on about her in hushed tones and so she nodded, smiling sympathetically at Remus who offered her a reassuring wink indicating he’d keep her secret for her. After grabbing her bag, ignoring the cool gaze of Sirius Black they headed out of the great hall together, James’ arm slung over her shoulder.

✵✵✵

After the upset in the great hall the pair decided that being around people wasn’t their favourite thing for now and so retreated to the safety of the girls bathroom, even though it meant skipping their last lesson. They stayed there for a long time, working in comfortable silence before eventually James’ stomach growls got too loud to ignore and the pair headed for some food, favouring going to the kitchens rather than sitting in the hall again. Once they loaded up on dinner they headed back to the tower, the cold stone of the bathroom no longer an appealing option.

Sabrina had been in the boys dormitory before, on a couple of occasions but it was mostly to study with Remus or listen to music with Sirius rather than to hang out with James. Which was a surprise given the immaculate conditions he kept his side of the room in and the ample amount of sweets he managed to scrounge up, promising her he’d buy Remus them back as soon he had a chance. It was nice even if it did end up with them doing their own thing, James polishing his already spotless broom and Sabrina reading her book. Though as she watched him, ensuring the handles shined bright as a galleon she couldn’t help but feel the niggle that Sirius had a point.

After all how many girls had she seen Sirius kiss, too many to count, even if he had slowed down a bit this year. He was never going to believe that she and James were a couple unless he had visual proof. The only problem was that she had never kissed anyone. That was why she was so reluctant to do so, waiting for the right person, a certain tall, dark and handsome prat. But if it wasn’t going to be him, why not James.

Though she was sure he’d already got it as clean as possible he rubbed furiously on a piece of chrome, pink tongue jutting out between his lips as he concentrated, but he looked up as she placed her book down and scooted to the edge of the bed. He watched her, placing his broom so that it leaned up against one of the supports of his four poster, waiting for her to say something.

‘Maybe they’re right,’ she said nervously.

‘Right about?’ he asked.

‘Us kissing,’ she said embarrassedly dropping her gaze to her lap, ‘I mean we’re supposed to be a couple so I guess they have a point.’

‘Yeah, you’re right,’ James said, though admittedly the only reason he hadnt kissed her so far was because he was sure that would drive Sirius over the edge and not in the desired way. He just wanted his friend to be honest with himself, he didn’t want a black eye. Sabrina hesitated, deliberating on what to say before she said, ‘maybe we should try it…now instead of in front of everyone.’

‘Yeah,’ James said, ‘good idea.’

She shuffled forward, allowing her legs to hang over the edge of the bed though given the height of it they barely skimmed the floor. James turned, placing his hand behind her on the bed so that he could see her properly. He had thought she was just going to lean in and kiss him but she kept her eyes down, too nervous to look up as she muttered, ‘have you ever…you know?’

‘Oh, um yeah,’ he said, his cheeks flushing as he clocked on to why she was asking. His embarrassment was probably why he found himself adding more detail than necessary, the words falling out of his mouth, ‘Delphine Greengrass in third year, remember me and Sirius had that bet.’

‘Oh yeah,’ she said quietly. James cleared his throat, ‘have you?’

‘No,’ she said honestly.

‘Oh, are you sure you want to?’ he asked, ‘because we don’t have to you know. We can just tell everyone it’s none of their bloody business.’

‘Not it’s okay,’ she said, chewing on the inside of her cheek, ‘we’re never gonna convince them if not. Moony already knows.’

‘Yeah but that’s no reason,’ James started before the words sunk in, ‘wait how does Moony, you know what never mind, I’m not surprised.’

‘He’s clever our Moony,’ Sabrina smiled softly.

‘Yeah he is,’ James grinned, his tone dropping lower as he said, ‘are you sure you want to?’

‘Yeah,’ she nodded, ‘just kiss me.’

Tentatively James leant in allowing his lips to brush against hers. They were soft and pliable and admittedly a little tense before she relaxed, her hand ghosting up the side of his face as she returned the kiss before they broke apart breathlessly.

‘That wasn’t too bad,’ Sabrina giggled.

‘Oh thanks Sabs,’ James grinned, ‘I’ll try not to have too much of a wounded ego.’

‘Oh shut up,’ she chuckled, pulling him back towards her by the hair, leading this time as their lips met once more. Not to be out done James pulled her to him until they were smushed up against the headboard of his bed, lost to anything that wasn’t this.

That was until the door opened without warning, giving them little time to break apart and by the time James was a decent amount of space away, wiping his mouth from the excess saliva, Sirius was watching them, his jaw set.

‘Sorry,’ he muttered, staring angrily at Sabrina before he turned away and added, ‘didn’t know you were here.’

With that he headed out, slamming the door roughly behind him and though she had been breathless from the kiss now she felt as though all the air had been sucked from her lungs, worry settling in. This was meant to be a bit of good fun, a lesson for all and yet now it felt very much no fun at all.

‘Did he seem mad?’ she asked nervously. James forced a smile and shrugged, ‘he’ll be fine. Promise.’

Sabina nodded but she wasn’t so sure.

Sirius Black Tags

@caitlin1996 @imthebadguyyy

[acertainmoshke]

Fun With Genders (or, Taking a Break from Almost Dying)

Slight cw for mention of breasts and binding and vague reference to being formerly suicidal

I didn't have any context then for how out of place we looked. It was second nature for both of us to smooth over our inhuman features, but we'd never had to think much about our clothes. If anyone had been on the street to see we would have given them a heart attack: Kris in an old and wet sweater with a gash through it like he'd been mauled, and me in no shirt at all. I hated the way my chest jerked with every step, but I didn't know just how inappropriate it was to leave uncovered and there was no way I was getting back into my own wet sweater. Wet jeans were bad enough. I wore sweaters, though the cold never bothered me, so that I didn't have to think about the scars, the evidence of times I didn't dodge fast enough, times I wasn't careful enough with iron, and times I just wanted to stop.

But the shadows in the diner and our bare feet slapping the concrete were the only signs of life. A block down the street we stopped in front of a little shop with clothes hanging in the window, a "closed" sign posted on the door.

Good.

That made things much easier. So much easier to tug at the air until it pushed the lock aside than to gather the energy and lie to a person. Especially since finding clothes was more complicated than grabbing food. It would take time and I didn't have it in me to keep someone glamoured that long.

Kris immediately headed for the back corner, flicking through the biggest clothes, but I couldn't focus.

Lift a shirt on a hanger. Shake damp hair out of my eyes.

Could I wear this?

Run my hand over a pair of pants. Try to wiggle my shoulder blades out from under stiff clumps of hair.

Were they soft enough to fight in?

Take a step. Brush hair away from my bare shoulders.

I let out a groan. I couldn't even think enough to figure out what was worth wearing.

"You good over there?" Kris looked up from the pair of pants he was holding up to his waist.

"Just- hair- touching- me." I meant to sound casual, but it came out through gritted teeth. After last night, I was too tired to ignore it like usual.

"Want me to cut it off?"

That startled me. "What?"

"Look what I found," he said, holding up a huge pair of scissors.

"Can't." Even though it sounded so comfortable.

"Why not? You cut mine."

Because it was too much trouble. Because I didn't deserve to be comfortable. Because it felt like it would mean something big, but I couldn't grasp what.

"Because you're a boy and I'm..." something more monster than girl. "...not."

"Oh, come here." He grabbed my arm, firm enough to tug me across the little room to the chair behind the counter, but loose enough I could have pulled away. I didn't.

The snips as my hair felt away to the floor were loud and crisp. The metal near my head, smelling faintly of iron but not enough to bother us, felt cool on my scalp. I stayed still until he huffed, set them down, and turned back to pick up his pants.

I shook my head. Nothing happened. No tickling to make me cringe or weight thumping on my back. It felt so light, so easy. Great. With that taken care of, I would be able to focus on clothes.

The problem was that these clothes were different than the ones I was used to scrounging off of clothes lines and out of dumpsters. There were no jeans at all. The pants were brown, black, and blue, stiff and crisp like the ones the men rushing by me in the mornings wore. Worse, they were all long enough to cover my feet. They dragged the floor when I held them against my body. I would never be able to run or kick in these, even with the cuffs rolled up.

"Fuck, yes!" I looked up to find Kris, now topless also, buttoning closed what must have been the biggest pair of pants they had, black and starched like the others. They stopped several inches above his ankles, but he didn't seem to mind. "Did you see any scarves?"

I was happy enough to abandon my futile pants search to help him out. A quick look around revealed a rack of scarves by the door. They were soft and light and I worried they would snap under the pressure, but Kris hummed in delight as they criss-crossed his skin and I used a new pin to hold them together in the middle of his back. I didn't mention the spines I could see starting to poke through the delicate fabric.

"Do you want some, too?"

I looked up, feeling suddenly very young and silly, a child again playing dress up with Dad's clothes. But the undershirts were as big as the pants and I couldn't fight if I was going to be bouncing everywhere. I nodded once, and he immediately reached for some more.

We had grabbed them randomly, though I needed half as many as Kris, and I ended up wearing polka dots for the first time in my life. He had been right about the texture. It was smooth, cool, and soothing against my skin even as he pulled it tight and pinned it so I couldn't feel the bite of metal.

Safely held down, Kris tried on and discarded a stack of shirts that seemed nearly identical to me, all white or gray with a collar and a ton of buttons. He finally settled on a white one. It would get grimy fast, but the short sleeves would be good when summer finally showed up, an eventuality I usually tried to avoid thinking about. He pulled a green sweater on over it, but it was unlike any sweater I'd seen before. It was open in the front like the shirts and fastened with four huge brown buttons. It was tighter than his old one and I could already see the buttons popping off the first time he twisted to headbutt in a fight.

He looked in the mirror and smiled so big and bright, showing all his teeth.

I didn't say anything.

I'd given up and sat on the floor to watch his long journey to an outfit, my knees pulled up to my chest. The soft fabric of skirts hung above me was smooth on my bare shoulders.

Kris turned to me suddenly. "Your turn!"

"Uh-" my jeans felt so scratchy, on both my wrists and my legs. I could feel them tearing at my tiny leg hairs. "Nothing fits."

"He smirked and held up a pale yellow skirt. "What about this?"

I stuck my tongue out. Nothing that pretty and fluffy belonged on me and he knew it.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But look over here."

He moved to stand next to a small rack of brightly colored clothes. Children's clothes. Short, puffy dresses. Shorts with huge hems. Tiny collared shirts with no buttons. But Kris stepped past all those, reaching for the bigger boys' clothes on the far end. I didn't see what he grabbed until he flung it in my direction.

I stood up at the same moment and suddenly found brown ridged fabric covering my face. Tugging it away sharply revealed a pair of brown overalls in a thicker and softer fabric than the pants I was used to. And they were the right length.

Good enough. We were pushing our luck on time already. I tried not to think about how I was turning 40, or...25? Whatever age Kris thought we really were, I was an adult but still the size of a schoolchild. I grabbed a random shirt—soft, dark green, no collar to claw away from my throat or buttons to fight with—and stripped off my jeans.

Despite my hurry, I stopped for a moment and breathed. Cool air soothed my legs and filled my lungs and all of a sudden the day seemed much more promising. I never wanted to put on jeans again. I would have to, when we went home and the overalls wore out, but that was the distant future and this was now and I was free.

The overalls were clean and dry and soft when I pulled them on, brushing lightly against my skin. I sighed, as content as I ever was, and turned to go. Kris grabbed a new coat on the way out, making me suddenly aware that my shirt left my scarred arms exposed. But I was already out the door and had no interest in finding a sweater just then. Besides, the cold air felt good on skin I almost never let feel it.

We left the shop as it was, discarded clothes flung across the desk and floor, my hair in a dark puddle behind the chair. I did re-lock the door behind us, leaving them to wonder who had entered their closed-up shop and how. A little mystery makes life more fun.

On the short walk back to the car I began to notice things, now that my brain wasn't full of discomfort. Things like how no one was walking down the street. Maybe all the children were at school, all the adults at work. But no one? At all? Sure I expected less people than in the city, but this was almost creepy, even to me, and I generally avoided people.

The little grocer, the shoe shop, and the candy store we passed were all closed. Was today Sunday? I had no idea. But I was sure I'd glimpsed people in the diner...

I paused to look as we reached the parking lot again. Yes, there were cars parked here and people moving inside.

Kris groaned behind me and I hurried to catch up. He was scowling into the front seat of the car, squinting to see past his reflection to the pile of pixies on the seat. "They're still asleep. Guess we should get food or something. What do you..."

Kris was still talking, but his voice seemed far away suddenly. Everything felt crisp and clear. Almost like fighting, except it felt good, calm. Almost soft. I stared at my reflection in the window. In the chaos of last night, I'd let my glamour slip and hadn't fully restored it. I was looking at me as I really was. There were the sharp teeth, the sharp ears, the discolored skin. But for the first time in my life, I didn't look away as fast as possible.

A feeling was bubbling up in my stomach, and it took me a long moment to connect it to the way I felt wandering the tunnels with Kris and my yoyo and no worries. I was happy.

Something about the way my unevenly short hair hung just above my ears, sticking up in places, made me feel really good.

I jumped when Kris put a hand on my shoulder. "Hello? Diner? Food? Yes or no?"

[commajade]

amber do you have any tips on how to start dressing more gnc? not exaclty where to find clothes but like composition/how to feel confident in my looks bc im always afraid of looking like a 12yo boy 😭 i was going through your blog and saw that ask about boa/yuri/seulgi and i feel like a combination of their wardrobes would be my dream lol also random but yuri added a new layer to bi casual that's p.e. teacher, she now has this sling bag she takes everywhere and imo makes her overall look gayer

hello! i'm guessing ur a baby gay, congrats on trying to gender present differently it's a rly cool experience and it'll bring u a lot of joy! any amount of gnc presentation automatically makes u sexier too so congrats!

i think what you're going for is a mix of street wear and artsy casual and both of those can be as androgynous as u want it to be! for composition it rly depends on ur body type and idols r all skinny so if u r similar to them u can copy the way they layer and arrange clothes but i personally can't. could never wear pants as wide legged as seulgi and boa wear lol.

the key is loose fit clothing for a boxy/rectangular silhouette but don't get clothes that are too oversized. i have a chest and hips so i tend to do fitted pants that taper (not wide leg) but have some room at the waist to not emphasize my hips. i have p broad shoulders so i wear loose shirts that emphasize that and aren't too tight at the chest. outerwear is so important!!! a leather or denim jacket is such an important wardrobe staple for every gay person.

in general seulgi has cute artsy boyish looks that u can emulate with a wider legged jean with a quirky design, unusual and colorful sneakers, and fun hoodies and graphic tees. boa does like dancer look or dad look. lot of beanies, oversized t-shirts and sweatpants or flannels and glasses and t-shirts tucked into belted jeans. yuri's bi casual looks tend to be short button up shirts, sometimes over t-shirts (with the sleeves rolled up). also baseball caps and crew neck sweatshirts.

it's ultimately rly about how u wear it tho!! try wearing the classic white tshirt + jeans + jacket look and see if it feels more feminine or more masculine on u, and see what adjustments u can make to ur posture and hair and the way u carry urself to get the presentation u want. try putting ur hands in ur pockets in a masculine way, my gf calls it the transmasc stance lol and i keep noticing every time i do it now. try wearing outfits but sitting or standing in diff ways, slouching a little more (but take care of ur spine health) or sitting with ur legs wider and leaning back or leaning forward with ur elbows on ur knees. jewelry is also v gendered!! buy some thicker rings or more masculine chains/necklaces u can layer. a nice watch does a lot too. maybe 4 years ago i was rly self conscious about gender presentation and being read as masc but now my gf says it's easy to see that i'm butch because of the way i carry myself and i don't even think about it. i slowly developed the mannerisms and posture that make my clothes look and feel more butch. even when i first started wearing men's clothes for the purpose of being gay i realized that my own masc energy makes women's jewelry look more masculine when i'm wearing it and it was a rly affirming moment for me.

bonus: i consulted my gf and the simple way to not look like a 12 year old boy is to not dress like a 12 year old boy. don't be afraid to mix things that are a little bit more formal into your new wardrobe, it'll make you feel more confident in gender presentation. i just got a nice pair of dressy men's shoes (i got derby style docs) for the first time and i wear them with calf length dress socks and semi-formal pants to concerts and artsy events and it feels rly good! i need a good blazer now, i only have very casual outerwear.

[cartloot]

What type of jeans are in fashion for 2022?

Types of jeans are in fashion for 2022

1. Upcycled Jeans

'With women’s apparel the ascent of natural mindfulness, center around round design and supportability, the upcycled and repaired jean is an unquestionable necessity in 2022,' Harrington tells ELLE UK.

'Genius and thriftiness remains inseparable with make and Do-It-Yourself feel: upcycle deadstock denim, fix up classic Jeans and get innovative. Or on the other hand, put resources into a round plan with Ganni x Levi's, B Side Jeans, Basscoutur, Offspring of Conflict, Ksenia Schnaider or E.L.V. Denim.'

How to style them? You have two options: let the Jeans communicate everything and match back all the other things or, similar to mold star Susie Lau, example and surface conflict to your

2. Very Loose Jeans

'As our homes have turned into the new office, we're presently focusing on looser fits for solace and our ability,' Harrington makes sense of.

'A casual outline can be creased at the midriff or clamped with a belt. Settle on loose wide fits like the Work day Pro High Jeans, RAEY Additional Crease Wide Leg Jeans or Shut Shine down Delicate Stretch Jeans.'

'There has been a colossal change in our way to deal with denim since last year as we embraced a more loosened up fashion instinct,' Page concurs.

'Startling fashioners, for example, The Column, Peter Do and Loewe are excitingly utilizing denim all the more every now and again in their assortments, offering easy and loosened up 1990's shapes across Jeans, shorts and coats. I love the cool dressed-down denim vibe consisting of blurred washes, wide leg shapes and low-threw waistlines.'

How to style them? Like Jeanette Madsen, we figure you ought to go full 1990s grit with Vans kicks.

3. Light Jeans

'Simple, layerable and trans-occasional. The nonpartisan jean is normally colored or undyed and can be matched as a co-ord with matching things as a head to toe apparent look,' Harrington says. 'It's a staple piece, and a simple method for lifting your denim assortment. My top choices are from Bottega Veneta, Isabel Marant, The Line and Shut.'

'There's something super stylish about white denim - it's an extraordinary option when you really want a revival and ideal for any moderate that lean towards their denim somewhat more pared back,' Page tells ELLE UK.

'It's all in the styling here - Totême's grayish pair look ravishing joined with a straightforward naked vest, and Agolde's somewhat trimmed rendition styled with calfskin sliders can help total your "off the clock" daytime look.'

How to style them? While Harrington is correct - regular and white denim looks perfect as a head-to-toe group - we're likewise shifting focus over to Kat Collings' look which blends a couple in with more obscure prints and materials for a definitive winter-suitable outfit.

4. Straight Leg Jeans

'This go-to fit and staple in each woman's closet isn't set to go anywhere,' Harrington notes of straight leg Jeans. 'Search for new brands that pay attention to manageable and planet-accommodating washes and textures like Innocent and I AND ME.'

'From trimmed and longer-seamed styles, one thing we as a whole love about denim is its never-ending quality,' Page says of straight-leg Jeans.

'It's a commonsense ordinary closet staple and keeps on being an exemplary that can be worn for each event while offering the most extreme solace. A portion of our legends come from any semblance of Residents of Mankind, Casing, Mother and Cloth and Unresolved issues of a couple, and we are cherishing them now like never before.' Now a days jeans are also part of Indian traditional dress for ladies.

How to style them? We love the delightful way Camille Charrière rocks her extra lengthy straight leg Jeans with a matching denim coat, white vest and dark boots. You can also style them with Women kurta.

5. Erupted Jeans

'The pattern for nostalgic denim keeps on getting momentum,' Harrington tells us. 'Think low waisted 1990s flares and high-waisted 1970s boot cuts with matching tank tops. Take motivation from Charlotte Knowles' pant shapes and shop Mother's The Weekender or Wynn Hamlyn's stone wash Denim flares.'

How to style them? On account of Gucci, you can truly take erupted Jeans to a higher level. Very much like María Bernad, you can layer up your flares with dresses and stages are an unquestionable requirement.

[zuluc]

summary: how the genshin boys give hugs

characters: childe, diluc, kaeya, razor, venti, xiao, xingqiu, zhongli

style & genre: bulleted & written; fluff

warnings: none

notes: a self-indulgent fic for my birthday yay, i hope you guys enjoy this I just really want a hug but it’s hard to see friends right now 🤧🤧

Childe

sometimes a side hug or quick embrace; sometimes not because there are days he never wants to let you go

his outward persona is lost because he trusts you

once his arms come around you, you feel like the life is being squeezed out of you, in a good way of course

there are still traces of his past he has yet to share but he wants you to know how much you mean to him

Paimon had stayed behind to finish that chop suey Su Er'niang offered you both. You finished your share, giving some to your companion, and you left to sight-see around Liyue. 

It’s different from Mondstadt and there were quite a bit of things to get done here for your journey. Your feet take you to the stairs leading up to the Wanwen Bookstore and you hope no one has bought out the book you wanted to finish.

Before you could take a step upwards, someone grabs your wrist and pulls you into a small alley. You hand comes up to summon your sword but then your vision is obscured by a head of copper hair. You gasp when his arms tighten around your torso while he heaves a sigh beside your ear. He lets go after a few seconds and you can see the smile on his face.

“Just a recharge,” Childe winks and turns around to get back to what he was doing.

Diluc

he gives the type of hugs that hold so much emotion that he hides from the public

his body runs warm and appreciates when you snuggle further into him when he has you

his hugs are never quick and he likes to take his time, his hold tight enough to make you feel safe but loose enough to allow you to leave if you so wish

rarely initiates them but will take full control when you’re in private

You could tell when the work he had was becoming too much for the night. The annoyance tainted his handsome features and you just wanted to take it all away. Diluc worked hard, everyone knew that, but he was only human. 

You give him the letter Jean wrote out and proceed towards the door to get back to your own duties. Your name rolls off his lips and when you turn around to look at him he’s gesturing for you to get closer. When you’re mere inches from his desk he stands up and places one hand on your back and the other on the back of your head, burying his face into your neck.

The temperature outside was chilly and his naturally warm body contrasts to how you felt prior. You can feel him frown against you when he feels how cold your skin is.

“Will you be coming back tonight?”

Kaeya

he gives you many hugs, anywhere and at anytime

there isn’t a day where you never receive one and if that every happens, the next day will include even more

will almost always lift you off your feet and/or catch you off guard; he likes to keep you on your toes

even when you’re just standing around waiting for another mission or watching the sun set he’ll hold you close against his side

He’s late. Again. 

You finished off the last of the slimes around Starfell Lake with little to no damage to yourself, luckily, but someone was supposed to assist you to get the job done faster. You look around for any more enemies before kneeling down and dipping your hand into the water. It was cool against your skin, relaxing you after the day’s work. But it might have been just a bit too peaceful.

A force pushes you forward and you close your eyes to brace for the inevitable impact into the water. You wait a few seconds before realizing that you are still very much dry, but there’s something blocking you from lifting your arms. Kaeya chuckles behind you as you lightly hit his arm, hugging you tight.

“I got you,” he says with a smile.

Razor

he’s an awkward hugger, mostly because he doesn’t know how these things work as well as that he doesn’t want to hurt you

he doesn’t know where to put his hands and they usually end up against his sides before he realizes that he makes you think he doesn’t like them

when he gets more comfortable, his hugs are gentle and soft

he grew up with the wolves and these types of things just didn’t happen, but you make his heart soar

He’s taking a casual walk in Wolvendom to reflect on what Lupus Boreas had told him only days ago. He wasn’t a wolf, he was human, but he couldn’t accept it so quickly. His mind wanders and he doesn’t hear the steps, or rather running, behind him. It’s only until you jump on his back that he realizes.

You knew that he was thinking about what happened and you wanted to return as fast as you could to check on him. You slide off his back and he gives you a forced grin. Razor avoids your gaze but you place your hands on his shoulders to square them towards you.

He appreciates your presence and he wants nothing more than comfort, hands twitching at his sides. You’re aware of his little signals and smile when you hug him tightly. He closes his eyes and breaths in your calming scent while hugging you back with care.

“Thank you.”

Venti

there’s a sense of happiness once he hugs you because it just makes you feel lighter and free

there seems to always be a slight breeze about him and you can feel it brush your face when you rest your head on his shoulder

he comes and goes but never forgets to hug you before and after he returns to see you

his hold can range from very loose to holding on just a bit tighter

Venti left a month ago and you knew that’s just how his way of life was. He was never one to stay place for too long, much like the wind you would say. You yourself were someone who likes to travel around, but everything always brought you back to Mondstadt. 

You stand overlooking the city at “your usual place,” as he liked to call it, for some peace of mind. You sit on the edge of the statue’s outstretched hands and lean back on your hands to take in the view. A soft breeze passes by you and your ears pick up a quiet sound behind you. You smile and stand up, immediately wrapping your arms around him. 

His own naturally fall in place behind your back and a light laugh escapes his lips. It was nice to see you again, as always.

“Missed me?”

Xiao

he used to be so stiff when he first started hugging you as he never had physical contact with anyone

being you, he warms up and learns how to properly hug someone

will have a hand behind your head because he wants to make sure that every part you of is against him

he’s very protective of you in general and it gives him a peace of mind knowing he can keep an eye on you in this way

You’re sleeping, sitting in his lap with your head resting against his chest as he sits on the balcony of Wangshu Inn. You came to him only a few moments ago and it was clear that you took the time to clear out nearby hilichurl camps due to the small scratches and bruises you had on you.

Xiao narrows his eyes at more of the culprits across the water on the little islands, making a note to do something with them later. You mumble in your sleep and he looks down to see your brows furrowed. He cups your face gently and smooths his thumb over your cheek which causes your face to return to it’s peaceful state and you move closer to him. 

It was surprising that he fell for someone. You made your way into his life so unexpectedly and now he just wanted to take care of you. And he wouldn’t change a thing.

“Rest well.”

Xingqiu

very proper hugs because they are reciprocated in with the same energy, or even more, than the ones you may give him

he has no problem in giving you hugs away from prying eyes

he would usually whisk you away onto adventures with him with a promise of them

will get flustered when you hug him while saying just how much you appreciate him

You’re amused at the way he presents himself to others and talks to them as expected of him. Xingqiu was known to be mild- and well-mannered as his mischievous side was hidden from those not so close to him.

You both manage to escape the party, standing beside each other as you look up into the night sky. He feels less restricted with you and he takes this opportunity to lace his fingers through yours. You give him a fond smile and return to staring at the stars.

An idea pops into your head and you let go of his hand, him giving you a questioning look before he is brought into a hug. Xingqiu blushes at the suddenness of your actions but returns it nonetheless. His eyes keep diverting to the house so you have to reassure him that no one can see the both of you. 

“Let’s get out of here.”

Zhongli

he enjoys hugging, contrary to what most might think

he likes the intimate feeling and being close to someone he loves in such a sweet way that can be done anywhere

he will never deny you of the affection and if you initiate it he will go through with it no matter what

he’s always looking at you paired with a soft smile on his face whenever he has you in his arms

Zhongli’s voice pierces the quiet as you both take a stroll outside of Liyue. He’s telling you of its history and old traditions that have disappeared throughout the years, but you’re becoming tired due to the sound of his voice.

When you’re out of sight from the guards at the front gates you give a slight tug to the end of his coat sleeve. He stops in the middle of his story and sees that your eyes are growing weary. You keep your hold on his sleeve until you pull yourself to rest your head on his chest, closing your eyes and content with the sound of the night as you’re against him. 

He holds you close, making sure that you’re not actually asleep as it would make for a very interesting walk back. You tell him that you’re just resting your eyes for a few moments and that he can keep talking. That you love the sound of his voice. Zhongli places a kiss to your forehead as he continues, adoration for you clear in his eyes.

“Now, where was I...”

[scuttling]

Sweet Evening Breeze

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 5,042 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Naïve reader, Innocence kink, Oral sex, Unprotected sex, Previous bad sexual experience Summary: Being Jack Hotchner’s babysitter is a pretty great job. He’s an angel, most of the time, and his dad is so sweet and thoughtful, really takes care of you. Really takes care of you... *Requested by anon Link to A03 or read below! “Jack, buddy, time for breakfast,” you call down the hall for the third time. “We’ll play Legos later.” He shouts something nearly incomprehensible back, and you sigh as you stretch up, trying to reach the jam he likes on the top shelf of the cupboard.

Most of the time, the fact that Jack’s dad, Aaron, is very tall gives you butterflies in your stomach, but sometimes it’s just an inconvenience—like when he puts groceries up so high you don’t have a chance of reaching them.

“Dad did not say you could skip breakfast, and it’s not okay to lie. Little monster,” you mutter, and you can feel Aaron’s breath on the back of your neck when he chuckles softly. Whoops. You didn’t even know he was standing there. “I say that with full affection.”

He reaches around you to take down the jam, resting a hand on your lower back, probably for support. The bit of skin exposed by your stretching tingles at the touch.

“Of course, and so do I. Often.” You turn to face him, give him a grateful smile, and take the jar of jam.

“Thank you. Ugh, aren’t you miserable in that?” you ask, gesturing to his usual business suit. As Jack’s babysitter, you see Aaron in a suit almost every day—another thing that gives you butterflies—but you’re in the middle of a heatwave, and it’s 97 degrees in your little suburb of DC, which means it’s probably more like 115 downtown. That’s too hot to do anything, but especially in a suit and tie.

“It’s cool in here, but yes, I’ll probably be miserable the second I step foot outside.” You spread peanut butter on one English muffin and jam on another, laughing softly when a thought comes to you.

“Too bad you don’t have as much flexibility with your dress code as I do.”

At the start of this heatwave last week, you’d asked Aaron—after much nervous deliberation—if you could wear shorts and tank tops around the house instead of your usual jeans and a t-shirt or sweater. Your so-called uniform was self-imposed, because he’d told you from the start you could dress however you were comfortable, but you didn’t want him to get the wrong idea. You weren’t trying to show off your body, or tempt or tease, or anything like that; you were just extremely hot, especially playing outside with Jack.

He had agreed, of course, that you should dress for the weather, and that shorts and tank tops were fine. He also reminded you that you could use the pool whenever you wanted, whether he was home or not, and just thinking about taking a dip later is enough to make you sigh in relief.

“I don’t think anyone would be interested in seeing me in an outfit like that,” he jokes—sometimes people can’t tell when he’s joking, because he’s so dry, but you’re familiar with his humor by now—and you laugh again. It earns you a smile.

“I think it’s more important that you’re comfortable than what people think when they see you in something, but it would probably be a little distracting.” You’ve seen him in his swim trunks on more than one occasion, most recently with no shirt to accompany them, and you can attest to being very distracted that day. You were supposed to be keeping an eye on Jack, and you did, would never put him in danger, but your eyes had also been following the drops of water that dripped from Aaron’s hair, down his throat, over his chest…

You had been hot for more than one reason that day, and your butterflies moved a little bit lower.

You shake your head of those thoughts quickly, glance around you to see that Jack is still not in the kitchen. You sigh, and put the peanut butter muffin on a paper napkin, hand it to Aaron.

“I’m going to go get him, but have a good day, okay? Try to stay cool; maybe you can take a swim tonight when it’s not so hot.”

“Good idea. Maybe you can join me if you’re still here.” That was sweet of him to offer. You smile at his kindness, brush a hand over your head. You wish your hair wasn’t all over the place, clinging to the sweat on your neck, your temples, but humidity is not your friend. He doesn't seem to mind.

“Thanks, maybe I will.” He gathers his things to head out, and you steel yourself and head to Jack’s room, scoop him up, giggling, into your arms, and plop him down for breakfast.

The two of you spend the day inside, because even swimming is a nightmare when the sun is beating down the way it is. You play with Legos, watch a movie, do some coloring pages, and play learning games on his iPad.

At around three, Aaron texts you, lets you know he won’t be home tonight because of a case, and you mentally plan out a small, easy dinner for you and Jack, then a little more playtime, then bed for Jack and a swim for you after.

You tuck him in, turn on his nightlight, and close the door behind you, then head to your room to change into your bathing suit.

You usually wear a purple one piece with shorts over it, something you can play with Jack in without worrying about anything falling out, so you’re surprised to find a pale blue, floral print bikini on your bed—a very tiny bikini—with a sticky note on the tag.

Went shopping for Jack and this made me think of you. I hope you like it. - Aaron

The first two things to pop into your head are, it was so sweet of him to think of you while out shopping, and you’re really glad he’s not here to see you in it, because it only half-covers all the things it’s supposed to cover. You double check the tag, but it’s the right size, so it must just be the intended design. Your cheeks flush hot, but it also makes you feel good, to be wearing so little. Kind of wrong, but good in a way you can’t explain.

You grab a couple of beach towels and step out into the slightly cooler night air, sigh at the feel of it on so much of your skin. You lay out your towels on the lounge chair by the edge of the pool—maybe you’ll lay there and read or play on your phone after your swim—and then step into the pool.

The water is still so warm, and the contrast between it and the breeze that blows across the surface has goosebumps breaking out across your skin. You dip your head under the water, let your hair fall loose and luxuriously wet after being twisted up all day long, and when you open your eyes Aaron is standing at the edge of the pool; you gasp, startled by his sudden appearance, and then laugh lightly.

“Oh my god, you scared me. I thought you weren’t going to be home tonight?” You swim closer to the edge so you can see him better, and he crouches down to your level. He’s taken off his jacket and tie, loosened the collar of his shirt and rolled up his sleeves; your heart races a little at his proximity, and all the dark hair you’re presented with.

“Change of plans, we weren’t needed after all. I texted you, but I see your phone is over there; I’m sorry I scared you.” He looks you over, something calculating in his gaze, and then smiles softly. “You’re wearing the swimsuit I bought you. Do you like it?”

You can feel yourself flush, because you hadn’t anticipated him being home to see you in it, but there’s nothing you can do about that now.

“Yes, I like it. It’s pretty. Thank you.” He must be able to sense your apprehension, because he tilts his head curiously.

“If you don’t like it, you can tell me. It won’t hurt my feelings. Don’t be shy.”

“It’s not that I don’t like it, I love it. That was so sweet of you.” You reach out a hand to rest on his arm, don’t want him to feel like you aren’t grateful. “It’s just a little… revealing.” He makes a soft noise of contemplation, reaches out to brush his fingers over your shoulder, over the strap.

“I was a little worried about that. Why don’t you get out of there and let me see? I can let you know if I think it’s too much.” You appreciate that he’d do that for you, and you respect his opinion, but you feel really exposed in it—and you’re not sure why that makes you feel so uncomfortable and so good at the same time.

Sure, he’s the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life, but there’s no way he’d ever look at you as anything other than the sitter. You’re just too… innocent.

All the same, you nod your head and lift yourself up out of the pool; Aaron moves back, helps you up, and guides you over to the lounge chair. He sits, and you stand.

From there, he looks slowly over your body; he lingers over your breasts, your hips, then asks you to turn so he can see the back. You swallow, self-conscious under his gaze.

“Have you ever been this undressed in front of a man?” he asks, his voice low, and your breath hitches. “I can tell you’re nervous, that’s all.”

“Um. Once,” you say, flushing. He hums, brushes a hand down the length of your arm, and you feel a chill. You turn back to face him, and he pats the lounge chair, encouraging you to sit next to him. You sit, cross legged, facing him, nervous, but… also not; it’s hard to explain.

“Were you completely naked?” The way he asks it is so casual, but being naked isn’t casual for you; you can barely bring yourself to think about being naked, let alone talk about it. With your employer.

But something about the way he asks it makes you want to answer, at the same time, and there’s almost no one you trust more than Aaron. He’s always been so good to you.

“No. I left something on.” It had been a bra, gray with a pink bow in the middle. You were more comfortable keeping it on, and your ex-boyfriend hadn’t cared. He hadn’t cared about much, it turns out.

“Was it during sex?” The way the word sounds coming out of his mouth makes you anxious, and excited; you can’t believe you’re having this conversation, and you also don’t want it to end.

“Yes, during... sex.” He nods, brings a hand to your cheek and brushes your wet hair back, tucks it behind your ear. Your heart is beating so fast you’re surprised the world around you is still so calm, quiet. Intimate.

“How many times have you had sex, sweet girl?” You close your eyes, embarrassed. You don’t want him to know how innocent you really are, not when he’s so much older and more experienced. He’ll laugh.

Then again, this is Aaron, and he’s only ever made you feel cared about and safe before. So maybe he won’t?

“Um. One time.”

“Just one time? That’s surprising to me; you’re so beautiful.” You shiver, maybe from being wet with the breeze on your skin, or maybe because he brushes his fingers over your lips, or maybe because he called you beautiful. No one’s ever called you beautiful. “Did it feel good?”

You’d wanted it to feel good; it did, for maybe a minute, and you think about that minute all the time, especially when you… when you slip your hand into your panties at night in your bed, thinking about Aaron’s broad shoulders, his thick forearms, his hands, his mouth...

“Kind of. And then no.” His hand freezes and he frowns. His voice is abruptly less low, more serious. There’s a wrinkle between his eyebrows you want to reach out and touch.

“Did he hurt you?” It had hurt, but you know he hadn’t meant for it to hurt. He wasn’t mean. He was just so eager to finish that once he started, he’d stopped caring if you were feeling good, so focused on his own body. You figured that’s just how guys are, and it made you never want to do it again—so you didn’t.

“Not on purpose,” is what you say. He covers your hand with his, big and warm and careful. You’ve always felt so comforted by his touch, and tonight is no exception.

“What happened?”

“It started quickly and ended quickly. I don’t think I was… prepared.” You’re blushing, hoping he understands your indirect statement so you don’t have to say it out loud. He rubs his thumb soothingly over the back of your hand, reaches up with the other to touch your flushed cheek.

“You weren’t wet?” You exhale, a little shaky, tell him no. “Are you wet now, sweetheart?” You’re almost ashamed to say, but he is asking...

“Very.” It’s just a whisper, but it makes him smile a little, touch your mouth again. You could get used to that.

“Good girl. Can I feel?” That gives you pause, for a moment, but thinking of him touching you where you’ve imagined for months—it’s too good of a prospect to pass up, no matter how nervous you are. You nod, and he moves his hand inside your swimsuit bottoms, brushes over your core, slips between your lips easily. He never takes his eyes off of yours. “It would feel really good to have sex now. Do you want to try again? You’re always taking such good care of us; I want to take care of you.”

You bite your lip, and he leans in slowly, presses his mouth to yours for a gentle kiss. You make a soft noise of pleasure, tilt your hips so you’re sliding over his hand, and he groans—it’s honestly one of the best sounds you’ve ever heard in your life. It means he wants you… never in a million years would you have guessed that.

“I want to try,” you breathe, and you feel bold, so you kiss him this time. He pulls you close, deepens the kiss, adds tongue, and you moan at the feel, clinging to his shirt. “Aaron.”

“Let’s go to my bedroom,” he says, voice low, and he moves his fingers up to the part of you that makes you shake with desperate need, rubs tight circles so you’re panting, chest heaving; you nod quickly and he picks you up, hand still moving inside your swimsuit, carries you to the sliding glass door and pushes it open with his elbow.

You assume you’ll head straight for the bedroom, but he stops in the kitchen, sets you on the counter and kisses you again, a little harder than you’ve experienced before; you love it, try your best to match the way his mouth moves, and his fingers press hard against your aching bud, making you gasp with pleasure.

“Have you ever had an orgasm?” he asks, a little breathless himself, and you smooth your fingers through his hair.

“Um. I think so. From touching myself like this.” He moves his fingers faster, and you press your palm against the counter for support, move your hips against his hand. It feels so good, so much better than when you do it that you could cry.

“Has someone else ever given you an orgasm?” You use the fingers in his hair to bring him to you for a kiss, something you both moan softly into.

“No. I want-I want you to be the first,” you murmur, and he closes his eyes, exhales through his nose, and lifts you up again, this time carrying you to his bedroom and setting you on your feet by the bed. He looks down at you with eyes so dark and gorgeous, then asks if he can remove what little clothing you have on. You tell him yes, and he pushes down the bottoms, which you step carefully out of.

When his hands move to the top, you hesitate, always self-conscious about this; he leans in and presses delicious kisses to your neck, your shoulders, slides the straps down, and looks up at you with caring, gentle eyes. You nod, and he pulls your top off, too, leaving you completely naked in front of someone for the first time in your life.

It’s such a rush, you wish he hadn’t waited so long to initiate this.

“You are so incredibly beautiful,” he says, and with the way he‘s looking at you, you actually believe it. He takes your face in his hands, kisses your lips, then moves down your throat again, your chest—he pays your nipples a bit of attention, flicking his tongue, scraping his teeth, and your mouth falls open in a silent moan. “So perfect.”

He puts his hands all over your body, sweeping over your arms, your waist, and he presses kisses to your stomach, your hips, your thighs. You want his mouth where his fingers were, but you don’t ask; it’s almost like he knows anyway, when he looks up at you from his knees.

“Has anyone ever tasted you?” You shake your head, and he puts his hands on your butt, squeezes softly, and guides you to lay back on the bed. “I want you to tell me how it feels, okay?”

Normally, you’re quiet out of necessity, because when you aren’t here you have an apartment you share with a roommate—even though most of the time, you sleep here whether you’re strictly required to or not. You’re quiet here too, because you’ve never wanted Aaron to know how he makes you feel, although now you’re really wishing you’d have found out sooner that he feels the same way. Imagine all the cool, quiet nights you could have spent on this bed, in his arms…

Shaking yourself out of the fantasy—because reality is literally happening, and it’s so much better—you nod, and he carefully spreads your thighs, leans in to tease his tongue along your slit, light and wet.

“Oh. Aaron.” He looks up, reaches a hand forward to twine your fingers together, and you squeeze them, moaning when he dips again, this time pressing his tongue inside you where you’re wettest. “Oh my-oh my god.” He leans in to press damp kisses to your lower belly.

“That’s right, sweetheart. I want you to come on my tongue—come on my tongue, don’t be shy.” Again, he slides it inside, brings his free hand up to rub you, and it’s not long before you do as he asks, shaking and tightening your grip on his hand. You’re almost embarrassed by how loud you are, but he is nothing but sweet when he comes up, whispers in your ear how well you did for him, how pleased he is to be the first to make you moan like that, to taste you.

He kisses your mouth so you can taste yourself, and groans when you reach for his head, hold him closer.

“Thank you,” you murmur, shaky, when the kiss breaks, and he rubs over your lips with his thumb like he did before, smiles softly.

“You don’t have to thank me, sweet girl. I told you I wanted to take care of you; I’m just so glad you let me.” You move your hands to the front of his shirt and rest them there, hoping he’ll take the hint, but he just gets a glimmer in his eye that makes the butterflies flutter low despite your very recent release. “Don’t be shy. Tell me what you want.” You flush, don’t know how to ask a man—especially a man like Aaron—to get naked for you. “Oh, there’s that blush. My sweet, innocent girl. You haven’t even been properly fucked, of course you don’t know how to ask for what you want. But I’ll teach you.”

He sits up, hovering over your body, gets his fingers on the buttons of his shirt and starts to slip them free. He has to unzip his pants to untuck it, and the sight and sound of that makes you whimper—you immediately tense, feel shame at being so vocal, but he just leans in to kiss you, soft and slow.

“You can’t wait for me to be naked too, can you? You want to see what a man looks like, feel what a man feels like. Don’t you?”

“Yes.” It comes out roughly, almost too low for even you to hear; you clear your throat and try again. “Yes, Aaron.” It earns you a slightly harder kiss, and he climbs off the bed to undress the rest of the way; your eyes are drawn to his erection as soon as it’s exposed, and he looks at you with nothing less than lust in his eyes. It makes you shiver and want to open your legs for him again.

“You’re staring. Have you touched a cock before—stroked it with your hand?”

“No. Can I?” you ask, sitting up against the pillows, and he nods, moves next to you, and takes your hand. You’re intimidated by the size of him, all the more so when he wraps your fingers around it, covers them with his, and strokes.

“Feels so good, baby,” he rumbles, slinging his free hand around your hip and holding you close to his body. He is so… just good looking, so different from your ex-boyfriend, from guys your age, and you look up at his face while you touch him, hoping to bring him even half as much pleasure as he brought you. Your eyes flick back down, though, after a short time, transfixed by the wet head disappearing into your fist. “Hmm. Good girl. Do you want to try putting your mouth on it?”

God, do you want to try that. You want to know what it tastes like, feels like on your tongue; you nod, scoot back a little so you can bend over him, and he puts his hands on your head, slowly guides your open mouth to hover over him.

“Careful with your teeth, and keep me nice and wet, okay? We'll go slowly.” He pushes your hair back from your face so he can see you better, which is sweet, and you nod, close your lips around him, let him show you how he wants you to do it.

He feels so big in your mouth, and you remember to be careful, to be wet, like he said. He’s not making you take him deeply, just a couple of inches, and when you’re not so nervous it feels really good, the weight of him against your tongue, his gentle hands teaching you what to do. It makes you feel useful, learning how he likes to be pleasured, and you enjoy finding ways to make yourself useful to Aaron.

“Perfect, perfect. Just like that—you’re doing great, sweetheart.” You hum around him, pleased that it feels good for him, and you’re stricken with the urge to feel him spilling into your mouth, but he groans and offers something even more intriguing. “Would you like to come sit in my lap? I want to press into your warm, tight, sweet pussy; I promise it will feel good, not like last time.” You make another noise, something eager, and he pulls you off and gets his hands on your waist, brings you up to rest against his thighs.

“Will it hurt?” you ask, just in case. You hadn’t thought to ask that last time. “You’re big; what if it doesn’t fit?” You look up at him, and warm, tender eyes peer into yours.

“It won’t hurt, and it will fit, I promise. We’ll make it fit. Lean up.” You stretch up a little, press your hands to his shoulders, and he rubs his hands soothingly over your body, kisses your chest, and then dips a finger inside you; you grip him tightly, moan, hold still while he moves it in and out, then adds another. “How does that feel? Don’t be shy.”

“Feels-feels good,” you breathe, and he pumps them together which feels so incredible, so new. He brings his free hand to your butt and squeezes softly.

“Good girl. I’m adding another. You’re so wet, it shouldn’t be a problem, but tell me if it’s uncomfortable.” The third finger makes you feel like you’re full up, a little snug, but you know you’ll need to get used to it if you want him inside; you breathe, will yourself to only feel the good, remind yourself that this isn’t like last time. Aaron is being so good to you; he won’t stop being good to you.

“Aaron.” It’s a gasp, a plea, a question, and he answers it by pulling his fingers out, putting his hands on your hips, and lining his cock up at your entrance, lowering you slowly onto it. You pant, moan as it slides in; it feels tight to you, and you’re so incredibly full, but his hands feel like safety and you’re not worried. He’s always taken care of you; he wouldn’t hurt you.

“You’re perfect, you’re doing so good. You feel so good.” He squeezes you, stretches up to brush his lips over yours. “We’re going to make you come again; I’ll give you the best night of your life, I promise.”

“Of course you will. This is already the best night of my life,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around his neck, and he kisses you harder; you can feel his hands tighten, and it doesn’t hurt, only makes you want more, rougher. You feel filthy for wanting that, but it’s Aaron, and you want any and everything he wants to give; you also want him to take anything he wants to take.

He moves your body up and down, a show of strength that makes you moan, just a string of desperate sounds you’re a little embarrassed of; he appreciates the noises you make, though, if the way he grips you is any indication, his eyes determined as he makes you bounce on his cock.

“Oh, yes baby, just like that. How does it feel, sweet girl?”

“Mmh, good, so good, so good,” you sigh, your butt making contact with his firm thighs each time he brings you down on him. “Feels so good to be… to have it inside me.”

Aaron hums, frowns just slightly.

“Tell me what it is, baby. Your innocent little mouth can be dirty for me, this once. What feels good? What’s inside you?” His voice is a little tense, like maybe he wants to finish, but he doesn't change a thing, doesn’t hurt you so he can get there faster. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, curl fingers into his hair.

“Your… It’s your cock, Aaron. Your cock feels so good inside me.” You’ve thought the word, never said it aloud, but it makes him groan deeply, so you vow to say it again at some point just to savor that reaction.

“Yes it does, yes it does. Feels so good inside your perfect pussy, my perfect, sweet girl.” His hands move you faster, and you want to help now that you know this is how he likes it; when the two of you work together, it’s quicker thrusts, harder thrusts, your breasts bouncing along with the rest of your body and making you feel filthy, indecent. Amazing.

You lean in for a kiss, and Aaron turns it into something deep and decadent, delicious; you pass moans back and forth, holding tightly to him, the both of you breaking a sweat even in the cool air. You’re so close, so close to the ultimate pleasure you felt with his head between your legs, and you can hear your moans change, eager, needy things.

“Aaron please. Please.” You take his face in your hands, look into his eyes, bounce on him and kiss him and plead for release against his lips, and he holds you so tightly and climaxes, spilling inside you and pumping up into you, breathless.

“Oh, good girl, you did that. You made me come, baby. Not so innocent anymore, are you?” You shake your head—you don’t feel innocent anymore, you feel good, you want more, want to chase the feelings you’ve felt tonight, including the one still building inside you. “Now let’s get you off. I want to feel it.” He digs his fingers into your hips, so hard you think it might bruise, but in your heightened state of arousal it just feels good; you keep moving until your orgasm takes control of you, makes you grip his hair hard in your fingers and slam yourself down on him.

“Yes, yes, mmm.” He brings a hand to your face, softly catches your jaw, and guides you to make eye contact while you ride him through it until you are both spent, sinking against the bed. He sweeps his hands over your body, kisses you softly, and you melt at his touch. “That was so incredible. Thank you.”

“I told you, you don’t have to thank me. I wanted to take care of you; been wanting that for some time,” he admits easily, touching your cheek. “I’m just glad I could give you a good experience after the bad one.”

“Good doesn’t even begin to cover it.” Your voice is light, low, because saying things like this, talking about sex, is still so new to you. “I love being here for you, helping you with Jack, and anything else you need. Do you think you’ll want or need me like this again?”

“Oh, I don’t see how I could do without, if it’s something you want. Although I may have to return that swimsuit. It is pretty indecent,” he says with a somewhat guilty smile.

You figured as much, and for the first time tonight you feel very confident when you say, “No, I think I’d like to keep it.”

Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed

[kimnjss]

just perfect || jjk

⤑  series: cherry pickers

⤑ pairing: gamer(fuckboi)!jungkook x video vixen(virgin)!reader

⤑ genre: barely any angst... smut!!

⤑ rating: explicit

⤑ word count: 7.1K // unedited.

⤑ warnings: cursing, slight dirty talk, mentions of blue balls, oral sex (f. receiving), multiple orgasms,  (mutual) masturbation, grinding/dry humping, quiet voyeurism/exhibitionism, overstimulation, handjob, fingering, jungkook is a lot whiner than you’d think, nipple play, spitting, penetrative sex, yn being a quiet dom, riding... yoongi nd hobi run in a museum.

⤑ A/N: this is out a lot later than i wanted ., but a bitch got sad nd didn’t feel like writing :/ - we good now tho . thank you for being so patient w meee .i hope you guys like this one lowkey a big one so let me know what you think x 

MAY 16TH, 2020 | 15:56

From the moment the two of you stepped onto the shooting set, it was pretty obvious to Jungkook that you were a big deal around here. He was used to putting you on a pedestal and treating you like a princess, but the fact that the other models, the majority of the staff, and the photographer treated you the same way was a bit mind-blowing for him.

Before you're even shedding your jacket, a short woman dressed in all black is rushing over with a robe in one hand and your swimsuit in the other. Ushering you in the direction of where to get changed, all while placing a chilled sparkling water in your hand. Complete with a straw. He follows behind, only half listening as the concept is explained in great detail to you. Following you to the gigantic dressing room, just for you.

A large couch is pressed against one wall, facing a dramatic vanity with an equally dramatic cushion bench. Jungkook is plopping down onto the large couch as you're lowering yourself onto the bench, hair being pinned back by two stylists who are quick to start on your makeup.

Simple chatter flows between the three of you and Jungkook finds himself admiring you with an unwavering smile on his face. You're so pretty. Always so pretty and sweet too. He likes the way you speak to the ladies as if they're old friends, laughing along with them with the prettiest smile on your lips. He's sure he could sit here and watch you forever.

Positive of it when the ladies are finishing with a final brush of your neatly straightened hair. They're waving goodbye as you stand, shimmying out of the tight jeans that you had arrived in. Carelessly tossing them onto the couch beside him before reaching for the hem of your shirt. Getting undressed right in front of his greedy eyes, he's not even ashamed for the way he leans forward on his knees to get a better look.

Forcing a gasp down when you reach back, flicking the clasp of your bra loose. It takes everything in him not to reach forward and take hold of one of your heavy breasts while wrapping his lips around the other. The sounds you made that first time still imprinted in his head. You sounded so pretty underneath him.

“What do you think? Should we get something to eat after this or...?” You speak so casually as if you're not putting on an unexpected right in front of your sexually frustrated boyfriend.

Sexually frustrated might be a stretch, honestly. The two of you found ways to enjoy each other without actually doing the do... but there were times where he hoped, silently of course, that you'd just say fuck it. Sober minded as him to fuck you because he'd deliver no doubt. He'd be more than happy to do it. “Yeah, I could eat.”

He sounds distracted and he is. Rightfully so, because you've just discarded the tiny pair of panties to pull on an equally small bikini bottom. Giving him a pretty good look at your ass and the way it jiggled with each tug of fabric.

“Great. I'll get us something. You're not going to be bored, right?” Arm wrapped around your chest to shield your breasts from him, you toss the bikini top around in your other hand, attempting to untangle the stringy garment.

Jungkook can't even focus enough to answer you properly. He's more concerned with the growing bulge between his legs and whether or not you can tell how turned on he is right now. You do notice, but it's way much more fun to see the uncomfortable shift of his hips, the hesitant tug at the end of his shirt, and the dust of pink in his cheeks than indulging him right now.

Taking your time to secure the bikini top on to your body, you don't pull your gaze from him. And you love the tiny pout that appears on his face once your tits are disappearing from his view. You make a big show of leaning over to reach for the robe you strategically set behind him, chest in his face.

He's letting out a laugh, hands reaching out to find your waist. They're cool against your warm skin, paired with the smile you can easily feel your body heating up. He's looking at you through hooded eyes, almost as if he could devour you at any moment. “You're messing with me, huh?” Gently tugging you onto his lap, hands sliding down the sides of your body and onto your bare thighs.

You're used to being seated on his lap. It's your favorite place to be, honestly. But, with the lack of layers between the two of you, there's nothing to shield you from the very prominent bulge pushing against his pants. Pressed firmly against your core, just one calculated shift of your hips and he'd be nudging against your clit.

And with that shit-eating grin on his face, it's obvious he knows it. Definitely not one to give up control so easily, you're the first one to shift. Eyes fluttering from the drag of his length against your slit, having to force back a moan as your hands tangle themselves in his soft hair. Shooting a well-practiced look of innocence in his direction, you let a soft smile push on to your features.

“Of course not. Why would I mess with you?” He's rolling his eyes instantly, sitting up to press his forehead against yours. Lips stretched into a teasing smile, hands secured tight on your thighs. Easily using his grip to hold your body against his. “Are you sure about that?”

His voice is so deep and unbelievably sensual, you have to physically stop yourself from ripping his pants off and riding him in this dressing room. With a giggle and a shrug, you're hopping off of his lap. Leaning down to press a quick kiss to his lips, “Guess you'll never know,” You say, turning to the perfectly timed knock at the door, calling you on to set.

Jungkook is letting out a huff, used to the blue-ball feeling at this point. He doesn't say anything as he stands from his spot, following you out of the room and on to set where they want you. Watching quietly as you're told to pose. Not being able to tear his eyes from you and how good you look in that way too small bikini.

He has always been a huge fan of your confidence. Loved the way you were always so sure of yourself. Loved how you walked, how you talked, how you acted as the entire world belonged to you. It would if he had any say in it. That had to be the first thing he found himself attracted to when he first spoke to you. How confident you were even just speaking to some stranger online.

Conversations seemed to flow with you because you never second-guessed yourself, you never hesitated. You were you all of the time and he loved that. He felt like he didn't have to guess anymore, although it took some time to figure you out, now that he knew you he felt like he actually knew you. He loved that.

The way that he got to know you, the pace that you set for your own reasons really forced him to take his time with you. Not like it was a bad thing. It wasn't bad at all. Because he wasn't in such a rush to kiss you, feel you, fuck you. He was able to enjoy the experience of knowing you. Learning you. Falling in love with you.

All before sleeping with you. 

Literal chills run down his spine when your gaze meets his. Laid flat on your back with the photographer over you, finger snapping pictures insistently. You've got this real sexy look in your eyes, gaze trained on his. Shooting a kiss in his direction and he feels his cheeks darken at the act.

Unsure when exactly he became so easy, but here he was an absolute blushing mess all because his pretty girlfriend decided to blow him a kiss. 

He finds himself sitting at the edge of the seat. Waited with bated breath for the moment you'll look at him again, granting him any ounce of attention to make his heart flutter. And instantly perking up when you're allowed a break. Grinning wide when you're making your way over to him, your long robe draped over your shoulders.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Taking your rightful place on his lap without a second of hesitation. Fingers curling in the hair at the nape of his neck and forehead leaning down to bump against his.

Jungkook allows his fingers to creep beneath your robe, landing directly on your ass. Gently using his grip to pull you closer to him. “You look really good,” He's hard again and it's all your fault. Desperate for some type of attention, he can't help the way his hips lift toward you.

You ignore the movement. “Thank you.” Nails scraping against his scalp gently, knowing how much he likes when you have your fingers in his hair. “I saw the way you were looking at me. Kinda makes me wonder what we'd do if we didn't have an audience,” Words barely above a whisper, but he's hearing you loud and clear.

Every syllable going straight to his cock. He can't even think of what to say, mind reeling of all the possible things the two of you could be doing if you were alone. He wanted to taste you. Has been craving it since the first time he had you upon his face. And fuck, you always looked so good with his cock in your mouth. Jungkook loved to see how determined you were to swallow him down.

Or he could fuck you... on one of these plush circle sofas. Stretch you out and make you whine for him. Tell him how good he's making you feel. For the first time. Have you call out his name while you cum, squirming underneath him.

“You're thinking about it, aren't you?” Voice so sweet by his ear, lips grazing over the shell of it. He's on the verge of losing it while you're just enjoying yourself teasing him. Dark eyes find yours, clouded with lust and a type of need that you've never seen before. Without a word, he's nodding his head, teeth cutting into his lower lip.

A grin pushes onto your features, hand reaching up to push the hair in front of his face back. “Should we go straight home after this, then?” The pounding of your heart only picks up, knowing exactly what you're about to hint at. Yet, you've never been more sure of anything in your life.

You wanted Jungkook. You've always wanted him, but no more than ever. In ways that you never really cared to explore before him and now it's like if you don't do something about it, you'd surely explode. You wanted him to be your first. No need for the dramatics or specialties, it was simple.

Jungkook was the one you wanted to fuck for the first time. “I can't stop thinking about how good it'll feel to feel you... you know?” Brow raised with your hand between your legs, resting flat against the no doubt painful bulge in his pants. His eyes are all but popping out of his head. “Do you want to?”

He knows what you mean. The look in your eye giving way to the fact that you're speaking more than what you've been doing all along. You wanted to do more and you were sure of it. You're not nervous or hesitant, so sure of yourself like you've always been. You wouldn't have said anything if you weren't. 

“Y-yeah. I want to.” 

MAY 16TH, 2020 | 17:03

Jimin was never a fan of museums. Not once did he think 'Oh, let's go check out this old painting that a bunch of dudes hung on a wall!'. He didn't care for them and didn't understand the hype at all. Would never be caught dead in one... unless his friend's relationship was at stake and an annoying boy with a pretty smile was dragging him into some elaborate ploy to get them together.

Only in that situation would Jimin pull out his beret and tweed jacket and drive the whole hour to the aging building. Hoseok in the front seat, chatting the entire way about how excited he was to check this place out but couldn't because of... circumstances.

He really said it like that, as if the two of them weren't more than aware of what the 'circumstances' were. That was the thing about Hobi, he liked to act like nothing was happening when literally everything was happening right in front of him. Brushed the entire argument off with Yoongi as if it was some fever dream and acted confused whenever someone asked him about it.

So wrapped up in not being seen as weak for caring, he just chose not to care. No matter how many times his friends assured them they didn't care what he did with his romantic lives... because it was literally not their business... he still kept up with the act. Which was why Jimin couldn't be so sure this plan would work.

Who's to say Hoseok wouldn't just act like he's bumping into a stranger and then turn the other way? That would do way more harm than good, hurting Yoongi way more than he needed right now. Especially since this was the first time he's gone out other than the studio in days.

Despite his worries, Jimin still goes along with the plan. Taehyung seemed sure of it, which had to mean that he knew something that he didn't. It would be fine. There was no way they could be put in a worse situation than they are now. Right?

The moment the two of them are entering the building, Hoseok is taking off in the direction of a piece he's excited to see. Jimin spends the entire time following close behind him, secretly texting Taehyung for the proper time that they can 'accidentally' cross paths. It had to be as natural as possible to keep from the two of them knowing that they've been set up.

A squinted glance across the room followed by the most believable 'Hey, isn't that...' and then absentmindedly leaving them alone so they can work out the problems that they have. It was a good plan. It was going to work. He just had to continue repeating it for it to be true, everything was going to go over just fine. Just perfect.

An hour... or six, according to Jimin pass before the long-awaited text is lighting up his phone. A one-worded message letting Jimin know where to head next. His newfound enthusiasm earns an eye raise from Hoseok, but nevertheless, he allows himself to be pulled in the direction of the next exhibit.

They're just halfway there before Jimin is stopping in his tracks, letting out a slightly forced gasp as his eyes widen. “Oh! Isn't that Taehyung... and Yoongi over there?” Hoseok's head snaps in the direction his friend is pointing, heart rate skyrocketing at the mere mention of the man's name.

Across the way, Taehyung is seen doing the exact same thing. Complete with a dramatic hand over his mouth and even wider eyes. Yoongi is not buying it, standing frozen with this scowl on his face as Hoseok and Jimin make their way over to where they're standing.

Oddly, Hobi doesn't seem reluctant to approach him. This was stupid, the avoiding each other, not talking when clearly they had a lot to talk about. While this would be his preferred method to handle things, he hated it when it came to Yoongi. All he wanted was to be close to him again and if that meant looking weak in front of his friends then so be it. He missed him.

He's prepared to say all of that, lay it all out for him, and try to work on mending things so they could get back to where they left off. The closer he gets though, the tighter Yoongi's throat gets. It feels like he's swallowed cotton balls and the sensation makes his eyes water. Heart pounding in his chest, getting louder with each step taken in his direction.

Until it's all too much to handle. Too scared to hear what Hoseok might have to say. Yoongi was out of line, he was the one in the wrong so there's no telling how upset Hoseok might be with him. He couldn't handle that. So, once he's close enough to speak Yoongi is taking off in the other direction. Running away and leaving the three men to stand there confused.

“Yoongi, wait!” Hoseok is calling after him, legs moving without giving him much of a say. Chasing after him like he should've done that night. Instead of walking away, he should've stayed. Made sure that he was okay, tried to make things better. He had been too negligent in their relationship, ignored a lot of the things that bothered him. And this was where they ended up.

He had no intention of doing that now.

Hoseok chases him until his feet ache and then a few feet after that. Catching him outside just a few blocks away from the museum. He can't help the laugh that falls from his lips when Yoongi is stopping to catch his breath, taking careful steps in his direction. “Yoongi, please stop running. I just want to talk to you.”

Too tired to keep up with the chase even if he wanted to, Yoongi is standing. This awful sad look on his face that he tries to mask with a frown, arms crossed over his chest. “I have nothing to say to you.”

Stubborn was fine. Hobi had no problem with dealing with stubbornness. At least he was talking to him. And in this case, he didn't need him to say anything. “That's okay. I have a lot to say to you. Starting with, I'm sorry.” He's moving closer to him, carefully. Not wanting to overstep and set him running again.

“I should've been more considerate of your feelings, Yoongi. You told me you didn't want to keep us a secret and I didn't listen. I'm sorry for making you feel like I wasn't proud of being with you because I am. I love being with you. I just... I didn't think it was that big of a deal? And I didn't want everyone in our business, but I was selfish and should've paid more attention to you.”

He's had a lot of time to think of what he has done and how he could make things better between the both of them. Had practiced his apology a dozen times in the mirror and then a dozen more. The real problem was working up the courage to take the first step. So seeing him here, whether or not it was a real coincidence, there was no better timing than now.

Somewhere within his apology, Yoongi seems to soften. Arms dropping to his side as he listens to what is being said to him. This whole thing, the base of their fight really could've been resolved easily. There's no doubt about that. But when pride and egos get invoked everything becomes a huge mess. But seeing Hoseok in an almost vulnerable state was new, it was nice in a weird way.

But Hobi wasn't the only one in the wrong. Yoongi knew that. “I'm sorry too...I shouldn't have tried to make you jealous. I knew how you felt and I ignored that because it wasn't what I wanted. I could've been more considerate too, it wasn't just you.” A huge smile is breaking on to Hoseok's face, taking the last few steps to close the space between them. He's landing a large hand on the side of Yoongi's neck, thumb stroking against his skin.

“Can we get back together? I don't like not being with you.” His lower lip is jutting out in the cutest little pout, Yoongi can't help but smile at him. Eyes rolling playfully as he nods his head, accepting the eager kiss that's placed on his lips.

Strong arms wrapping around his body and pulling him close. Kissing him in the middle of the street, for everyone to see.

MAY 16TH, 2020 | 21:11

Jungkook kisses you hungrily, hands roaming around your body with purpose. That being, getting you undressed as quickly as possible. You're giving him the same treatment, teeth and tongue clashing as you fumble with the buckle of his belt. Barely entering his house before his mouth was pressed against yours, not parting for more than a second since then.

He's lifting your body onto his with ease, carrying you up the stairs and into the bedroom. The shirt that he had been wearing was left in the doorway along with your jeans and jacket. Setting you down on the bed, he takes a moment to admire you. Lipstick smudged and eyes sparkling. Your hair fanned around your head against the pillow. The rise and fall of your chest, the longer he looks at you the harder it gets to believe that you're his.

Leaning down, his face finds the crook of your neck. Hands spread your legs apart so he's able to fit between them nicely. Sucking a trail of wet kisses down the length of your neck, he's so hard pressed against you. Harder than you've ever felt him before and you're sure it comes with the anticipation of what's to come.

His fingers are tangled in your hair holding your head steady as he leaves marks against your neck. He's being cautious, careful despite his desires. Not wanting to push you too far or do too much too soon, but all you wanted was him. And you didn't want to go slow. Had done more than enough pussyfooting to last you a lifetime, you just wanted him now.

Plain and simple.

Hands work to unfasten the button on his jeans, tugging them down with motion straying far from being fluid. He laughs at your struggle, pulling back into a kneel. His large hand coming down to replace yours, watching you through a hooded gaze while dragging them down the rest of the way. It had been pretty obvious how hard he was through the fabric of his jeans, but even more so through the thin layering of briefs.

Jungkook was big, that much you already knew. Impressive even when soft and you've never seen him this hard before. Was it all going to fit inside of you? Had trouble taking just two fingers of his and he was much thicker than that. The thought of trying, though, having him stretch you out has a familiar warmth pooling between your legs. A determination settling in your chest. You wanted to be able to take him. Need to.

He's reaching for the hem of your shirt, mumbling something out about fairness. And with a quick lift, your shirt is being tossed somewhere behind him. Large hands cup your breasts, body moving to settle back between your legs. Thumb experimentally rubbing against your nipple through the thin lace and it's not enough.

It seems he has the ability to read your mind with the quickness of the way he reaches behind you, fingering at the clasps of your bra. Moving it out of the way until your breasts are resting freely on your chest. The soft moan that falls from his lips has your walls clenching around nothing. An even louder moan emitting from the back of your throat as his lips wrap around the hardened bud.

“Jungkook,” You gasp. Teeth sinking into your skin while his fingers work the other side into a peak. 

He has been embarrassingly hard this entire day and the sweet moans that leave your glossed lips do nothing but add to that. Absentmindedly his hips rut against yours, thick cock brushing against your wet core, covered by the flimsy material of his panties. It almost hurt how bad he wanted you. Mind reeling with different ways he could take you, but he was so anxious about fucking it up he seemed to be playing it safe.

And you could tell. Even the usually frantic thrusts of his hips were calculated, just barely missing your clit and not nearly as hard as normal. His mouth is releasing from around your nipple to leave a trail of wet kisses down your body, tongue painting wet streaks against your skin. But you're stopping him before he can fit his head between your legs.

“Wait. I-I want to feel you... I want to make you feel good first,” Just as much as this was something big for you, you wanted it to be the same for him. It was not only your first time ever, it was also his first time with you. It should be fun for him too, right?

His eyes are widening as if you just suggested something as bizarre as nude bungee jumping, but the sound of your giggle has his body relaxing almost instantly. He watches as you sit up, arms wrapped around his neck. Kissing him fervently, hands knotting in the soft curls of his hair.

Warm tongue parting his lips, coaxing him into a kiss that can only be described as sloppy. Teeth grazing against his lower lip while your hand palms him through his briefs, his lips fall from yours to let out a low groan. Head dropping to watch the way your hand moves against him. “Fuck,” He sighs out almost in disbelief. 

Soft curses fall from his lips as your grip tightens around him, more pressure applied to the movements of your palm. He's moving his hips along with your hand, eyes fluttering and head bowed. Trying so hard to watch the way your fingers squeeze around him, but it's too hard to concentrate on anything but how good you were making him feel.

“You're so big, Kookie. What do you want me to do?” Voice laced with seduction, it's hot enough to make his cock twitch. If you kept on like that, it won't be long before he's blowing his load. Before even taking his boxers off, how embarrassing. 

He doesn't need to think, because he knows what he wants. Has thought about it on more than one occasion and wanted to try his chances tonight. “I... touch yourself. I want to see you touch yourself,” There's obvious strain in his voice, trying to create a coherent sentence through breathy moans.

His request catches you off guard, so sure that he'd ask you to suck him off or something that would be beneficial to him. But you don't protest, the thought of him watching you do something supposedly private egging you on. It was hot, him wanting to watch you. And it was no secret how inclined you were to giving Jungkook exactly what he wanted.

You're laying on your back once again, thumbs hooking into the waistband of your panties. Making a big show of taking them off, loving the way his eyes follow the material down your legs before he's dragging his gaze up to your bare pussy. Glistening with arousal all pink and pretty.

“Like this?” Middle finger tapping against your clit, body tensing at the contact. Jungkook kneels beside you, breath caught in his throat. Not daring to look away as your finger lightly moves over your clit. “Harder,” He whines, realizing you're teasing him with how gentle you're being.

Giggling softly, you apply more pressure, rubbing perfect figure eights into the little bundle of nerves. His lower lip caught between his teeth, brows furrowed and eyes focused. He looks so hot, gently stroking himself. Cautious in his movements so he's not pushing himself too far too soon.

He watches with bated breath as your hand slips lower between your legs, finger teasing your entrance with your eyes trained on his. Your jaw falls slack as soon as the digit pushes past your walls, eyes fluttering as a soft whimper of his name leaves your lips. “Holy shit.” He groans, picking up the pace of his hand as you do the same.

Not sure if it's the fact that he's watching you or the sight of him getting himself off to the sight of you, but you're speeding toward the edge quicker than you expect. Finger curling up into yourself, just barely grazing the rough patch of skin deep within. The heel of your palm nudging against your clit with a timed accuracy. Back arching as your whines grow louder.

“Fuck. Are you gonna cum?” Wildly in tune with your body, you can't even think to deny it. “Touch me,” You plead and he doesn't need to be told twice. Springing forward and landing his fingers on your clit, rolling it around underneath his touch. Your free hand lifts to wrap around his length, wrists twisting rhythmically. You feel the stutter of his fingers from the effects of your touch. 

All at once, the pressure built in your belly is snapping. Walls clenching around your fingers as your legs shake, eyes blurring as your orgasm washes over you. Jungkook's fingers are quick to replace yours the moment you're pulling out. Pushing deep inside of you and teasing your gspot. Just barely come down and you're already being thrust into a second orgasm, hands flying to grip his forearms.

“Jungkook, fuck. Please, please...” No idea what you're begging for, but the last thing you want is for this feeling to stop. He watches the way your hips move, fucking yourself on his fingers while your arousal leaks out your tight hole. Fists gripping the sheets as you squirm.

He doesn't pull back until your body is relaxing against the mattress, chest heaving up and down as you try to catch your breath. His fingers are wet with your juices, shining in the dull light of the bedroom. Quick to push them past his lips, moaning at the sweet taste of you coating his tongue.

Through hooded eyes, you watch the way his tongue moves between his fingers. Lapping up every last drop of you. As if he had just finished a five-course meal.

“You taste so good, baby.” He's mumbling out, a shy smile pushing onto his lips realizing that you've been watching him. Lowering himself between your legs, wet fingers pushing your hair out of your face. “Are you good to continue?” He smells like you and tastes like you when you lean up to kiss him.

You'd be crazy to say no, knowing how badly he wanted you. How badly you wanted him. The quick nod of your head is all he needs to cover your lips with his one last time, before lowering his body until his face is just inches from your throbbing clit. “Could spend all day down here,” He laughs out, soft lips pressing a wet kiss against your clit.

He doesn't need you to walk you through it, has paid you enough attention to know what you like. Diving it without an ounce of hesitance, tongue lapping against your wet hole. The tip of his nose pressed firmly against your clit, bumping against it so deliciously it has to be on purpose. He's got a tight grip on your thighs, keeping your legs spread wide for him.

Whiny moans vibrate against your pussy as he sucks your folds into his mouth, hand reaching for your clit. Pressing against it more deliberately, rolling it between his fingers as he works his tongue into your tight whole. Moving like a man starved, his groans are just as loud as your moans. Fingers gripping his hair to keep his head in place, hips lifting to meet the swirls of his tongue.

So wrapped in how good he's making you feel, you almost miss the steady rut of his hips. Shamelessly grinding his throbbing cock against the bedsheets. As if he's buried deep inside of you. With his tongue flat against your clit, he's pushing two fingers past your walls. Curling them deep inside of you. And you're seeing stars, back arching off the bed as a loud cry of his name falls from your lips.

Your entire body is on fire, legs shaking while your arousal flows out of you. His fingers continue to move at a steady pace, tongue flicking slowly against your clit until your loud moans are turning into desperate whines. Lips, chin, and nose shiny with your arousal, and all he does is smile. This big toothy grin that makes your heart flutter.

Just about delirious from coming three times in a row... and he hasn't even fucked you yet. God, you wanted him to fuck you. And you could tell he was holding back from doing just that, precum leaking from the tip of his cock staining the sheets. He wanted you too. But he was stalling.

His fingers move between your legs again, teasing your slit as he leans his head back down between your legs. Ready to make you cum with his mouth again. Your cunt throbs with overstimulation, positive that you wouldn't be able to take much more and you wanted to feel him before you were out for the count.

“F-fuck me, Jungkook. Please, I'm ready.” Fingers at his bangs, pushing them back so you can get a good look at his face. The way his movements stutter to a stop, eyes widening just slightly.

But he nods, kneeling back on his knees. Raking his own fingers through his hair, desperately trying to calm the nervous tick in his heart. You were so perfect. Laying beneath him, ready for him to fuck you. And there was nothing else he wanted to do, but he couldn't help but feel a bit of anxiety over it.

It was your first time after all. What if he fucked it up? Ruined it for you and then every single time you thought back to this moment you were filled with nothing but distaste. He just wanted to be perfect for you. And with the way you were looking at him, he felt like he could be. Felt like you thought he might be.

That was something, right?

“O-okay. Uhm...let me get a condom,” Clearing his throat awkwardly, he's cursing himself a million times for not sounding as confident as he should. With a huff, he's leaning over to reach for the bedside table, fishing through the drawer until his fingers are meeting the tiny foil packet.

He puts it on away from you, not wanting you to see him fumble with it due to the nervous shake of his fingers. Once it's secure in place he's moving back between your legs, nearly choking at the sultry look on your face. Long legs wrapping around his hips to pull him closer.

And he feels like he can't breathe.

With his chest pressed against yours, you can feel the hammer of his heart almost perfectly. That paired with the flushed look on your face is enough to make you pull back, getting a better look at his face. “Are you alright? Your heart's beating so fast.”

“Yeah, I'm just nervous. Fuck and I don't even know why...” He's laughing at himself with a shake of his head. It was you. He shouldn't be nervous around you. Always felt so comfortable, so sure when he was with you.

But this was big. This was your first time and he felt like he had to be different for some reason. Better? Yet, little did he know he was exactly the way that you wanted. Just being himself. “Do you want to stop?”

He's shaking his head quickly, eyes widening as he reaches back to tighten your legs around his waist. “No! No. I want to feel you... you look so good,” The last part of his sentence comes out as a whine, his hips lifting to meet yours. The action alone pulling a soft moan from your lips. Almost knocking your train of thought from your head.

“If you're nervous...”

Jungkook is quick to cut you off with a kiss, fingers moving between your legs. Middle finger tapping against your clit before he's drawing circles over it. “Shh, shh... I'm fine.” His words are murmured against your lips, tongue jutting out to swipe over your lower lip. And with the insistent push of his cock against your thigh, you're convinced.

“Okay.” He's smiling, leaning back to take hold of himself. Large palm wrapping around his length, lining himself up with your slick entrance. Breathing out heavily before he's lifting his gaze to meet yours. “You ready?”

Legs spreading in response, you're quick to nod your head. Hands braced on either side of his torso, body laid flat on the mattress. “Mhm.”

Extremely cautious with the way he pushes past your walls, allowing you to feel every inch of him as you stretch for him. It's foreign and a little uncomfortable, he's taking his time, being careful not to hurt you. Stopping halfway to give you a chance to catch your breath, thumb rubbing circles against your clit as an attempt to soothe you.

It brings a bit of the pleasure back, but your eyes remained squeezed shut, blunt nails pressed into his skin. With his head bowed, he's allowing a glob of saliva fall from his lips and onto your pussy, treating it like a lube as he pushes the last few inches inside of you.

You can tell he's holding back, cheeks burned red, and brows furrowed. He's got a tight grip on the sheets above your head, the thick vein at the side of his neck throbbing. Slowly, he's dragging his hips back, pushing back in roughly.

“Fuck, Jungkook.” You gasp, surprised by the pleasure that mixes with the painful stretch. He repeats the action a few more times until he's feeling you loosen around him. But you're still squeezing him so tight. “You're so fucking tight, baby.” He whines, desperate to go faster, harder. Be greedy. 

He's pulling back until his mushroom head is catching against your hole, pushing forward with a loud whine. “I'm gonna cum. Fuck, you feel so good.” You're opening up nicely for him now, his cock slipping past your walls with ease and it's too good to bare. For both of you.

Much different from your fingers or his. And you're not ready for it to end yet. “Not yet.” You groan, fingers holding his hips steady you lift up to take control of the pace. Moving a lot slower, giving him the chance to collect himself. “Hold it, Kookie. Be good for me,”

Your words flip something deep inside him, turning on the compliance inside of him. He wanted to be good for you. Of course, he did, he always did. But hearing you say it just made him desire it more. But at the same time, he was right there. It would be hard to hold back, no matter how much he wanted to.

“I-I can't... Yn, baby.” Soft whines hit the shell of your ear, the grip he holds on your hips tightening, trying to get you to move faster. His face buried in the crook of your neck, sucking sloppy kisses into your skin. All while rutting against you urgently, clutching on to every bit of self-control he has not to finish until your say so.

And you can't help but enjoy it. Having him come apart for you like this. Fingers moving quickly over your clit, whining each time your walls clench around him. It's not long before the pressure is building in your stomach once again, your moans growing high pitched as his frantic thrusts become stuttered.

His head lifts, lips covering yours. His breathy moans dying on your tongue, growing as he feels the beginning effects of you cumming around him. With the flutter of your walls and the shake of your legs around him, he can't hold back anymore. “I'm...” He tries to warn you but is a second too late, already feeling the condom expanding inside of you.

Pretty moans fall from his lips as he cums, fingers continuing their movement between your legs through it all. He cums long and loudly, untimed thrusts hitting against your hips. Your fingers toy with his hair until he's calming down, placing soft kisses against the inches of skin you can reach.

He finishes with a curse, arms giving out and body collapsing onto yours. He's breathing heavily against you, vision blurry and sweat sticking your skin together. But you have no desire to move, enjoying the hammer of his heart against your chest. It matches yours.

It takes him a few moments to come to his senses, pulling out slowly when he does. You feel every inch of him on the way out, a soft moan following. He's quiet with discarded the used condom, cheeks flaming red paired with a dopey smile on his lips.

“What?” You laugh after the third time catching him staring, looking away with blushed cheeks. A soft chuckle falls from his lips, shoulders shrugging as he reaches for you. Gently tugging you into his embrace. “Nothing. I just... liked that?” His cheeks darken, eyes lifting to inspect the ceiling.

Insane how he quickly he could turn into this cute guy afraid of eye contact just seconds after begging you to let him cum. “Me too.” The tips of his fingers mindlessly trace the indents his abs make on his stomach. “It was perfect,” A large smile splits your lips, nodding your head at your own words.

Perfect was the best way to describe it. And it had everything to do with the fact that it was with him, save for anything else that occurred. It was perfect because it was Jungkook. Your head bobs in another affirmative nod, hand lifting to touch his cheek, turning his head down to you.

Kissing him sweetly for a moment, waking the butterflies in the pit of your stomach. A welcome feeling that comes each and every time his lips are on you. As if it were the first time. Everything felt like the first time when it was with Jungkook. “Yeah,” The grin grows on your lips, arms wrapping around his body and head finding his shoulder.

There's not a single thing you'd change about him. About you. About the two of you together. It was exactly what you wanted. 

“Just perfect,”

— known for your body and surrounded by rumors about your sex life… rumors that he doesn’t think to doubt. until he’s meeting you… forced to realize there’s much more to you then the thonged shorts and lacy costumes.

⤪ masterlist ⤨

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A/N: timestamps make sense throughout the fic. if u want to be added to the tag list, send me an ask! + if you’ve asked to be on my permanent taglist, you do not need to ask to be added to this one !!

[when-i-was-your-angel]

A Favor

James “Bucky” Barnes x Reader

5,584 words

Y/N, the Avengers resident seamstress, tailors a suit for Bucky. She cashes in her favor.

NSFW: Virginity Loss, Virginity Loss as a favor, Minor Alcohol Use, Lingerie, Fingering, Oral female receiving, oral male receiving, facefucking, deepthroating, praise kink, missionary, Bucky’s metal arm, curvy reader, minor insecure reader, body worship, hickeys, angst, fluff, smut, hurt comfort ending.

   Six months ago Bucky Barnes needed help. He couldn’t find a suit that fit right around his arm and having one tailored by a stranger was too uncomfortable. So, he approached Y/N. As the team’s resident seamstress, he had grown used to Y/N’s gentle hands and soft touches while she worked on various aspects of his tactical gear. This was different, though. This wasn’t work. This was a favor. Friends do favors. Bucky didn’t have friends. Especially not really pretty soft-spoken friends. But, Stark insisted he have a nice suit for some gala, so he asked.     

     Y/N had immediately accepted, saying it was no problem. It really wasn’t. Tailoring was her job after all. His suit ended up looking phenomenal and Bucky got quite a few compliments, making sure to tell everyone who designed his sleek black suit. Bucky offered to pay her but she refused. Bucky insisted on doing something to pay her back. They ended up agreeing that he owed her a favor.

       Over the time she was tailoring him, they grew close. Y/N and Bucky were unlikely friends, but they quickly became the best of them. Bucky would bring her lunch on Tuesdays and Thursdays, when he had nightmares he’d call her and they’d talk for hours, he brought her coffee in the mornings, and she brought him freshly made gloves every time he tore his open. They were just perfect for each other. Best friends and nothing more.

    Now, six months past the gala, Y/N has decided to cash in her favor. She’s pacing her small apartment. Her faded blue jeans hugged her hips as she walked and her blouse was unbuttoned slightly more than what would be considered professional. It was seven in the evening, Y/N had just arrived home from work. She had made plans with Bucky a week ago and he would be arriving any minute. She was in the middle of pouring herself a glass of wine when a knock came at the door. Y/N rushed over to it, smoothed her hair down, and opened the door.

    Bucky looked amazing. Dressed in dark jeans and that black fucking tee shirt. He had on his leather jacket and glove, but she knew he would take those off once inside.

    “Come in.” Y/N moved aside to allow him access and he smiled, taking his jacket off and putting it on her coat rack. His hair had grown out slightly, no longer trimmed close to the scalp. The realization made Y/N squeeze her thighs together in anticipation.

    “You want anything to drink?” Y/N asked, retreating to her kitchen to fetch her abandoned glass of white wine.

    “Water would be nice.” Bucky sat on her couch, waiting for her to return. Y/N made him a glass of water just how he liked it. Cool water from the fridge with no ice. He always said the cold hurt his teeth, but she knew he hated the way the cold glass felt on his metal hand.

    Y/N returned to the couch, sitting on the opposite end and tucking her legs underneath herself. She offered him his glass of water which he took with a muttered thank you.

    “So, what’s this about?” Bucky asked, taking a sip of his water. His left arm was draped around the back of the couch, his right arm in his lap holding his water. He had his left leg half-crossed over his right. He looked good. Casual. Like he belonged in the space.

    “I wanted to cash in my favor.” Y/N couldn’t look at him. Her eyes were glued to her hands in her lap. “For tailoring your suit.”

    “What, six months of the pleasure of my company wasn’t enough?” Bucky gave her a smile to try and lighten the mood but when he saw the look on her face he quickly grew serious.

    “What’s up, doll? Talk to me.” Bucky leaned forward and set a hand on her knee. Y/N looked down at his hand, then at his stark blue eyes, and took a large gulp of her wine.

    “Ok. So uh… the thing is... “ Y/N mumbled and trailed off, nervous beyond all belief.

    “Do you need money? Is Stark not paying you enough?” After she shook her head, Bucky spoke again. “What is it then?”

    “I- I need you to have sex with me.” Y/N said, looking up to meet his eyes. Bucky’s face was completely neutral. Not neutral- frozen, Y/N realized.

    “I know it’s totally unfair to ask this of you but please, just listen.” Bucky gave her a barely perceptible nod.

    “When I was in high school, I did everything right. I didn’t date, I didn’t party, I studied. That’s it. Then college came around and I couldn’t let loose like I wanted to. Studying and working was just too ingrained in me. So, I’ve never…” She trailed off, hoping Bucky would understand.

     “Never what?” With anyone else, Y/N would’ve thought they were messing with her. But Bucky had said it himself, he couldn’t lie to her. His face was genuine.

     “Never had sex, Buck.” Y/N looked down at her hands, picking at her fingernails.

     “You mean you’re a-”

     “Yeah.”

     “And you want me to-”

     “There’s no one I trust more than you.” Y/N met his eyes and saw the internal battle in them. He wanted to be there for her, but he didn’t trust himself. He eventually broke the thick silence to ask her a question.

     “But, you’re twenty-two. How have you never had sex?” Bucky brought a hand to rest on his jaw, looking like he was solving a puzzle.

     “I’ve gotten close. My ex-boyfriend he uh- he tried a few times. But it never felt right. It felt gross and I was so nervous I wanted to puke. After I wouldn’t put out, he dumped me.” Y/N tucked her knees under his chin, curling into herself.

     “Matt?” She nodded. “I knew he was a scumbag.” Bucky sat forward and took his head in his hands, running his hands through his hair.

     “Why does it have to be me, again?” Bucky asked, still staring at the floor.

     “Because I trust you more than anyone else. Because I know you won’t let things get weird between us.” Bucky looked up at her and smirked.

     “I hoped my charming nature might’ve played into it a bit.” He gave Y/N his signature shit-talking grin. She rolled her eyes and kicked him lightly. After a few seconds the air turned heavy between them.

     “You don’t have to. I won’t be mad or anything. I just-” She sighed. “I don’t want it to be some one night stand with a guy I’ve never met. I know it’s stupid but I-”

     “It’s not stupid. I understand.” Bucky turned to face her and took her hand in his.

     “You trust me?” He asked, his blue eyes piercing her hazel ones.

     “Yes.” She answered honestly.

     “Ok.”

     “Ok? Does that mean yes?” Bucky laughed softly at that.

     “Yeah, yeah. You’ve convinced me. Let me go freshen up, hm?” Y/N gave him a smile and a nod. “Be right back, doll.” Bucky stood up with a disbelieving shake of his head and walked to Y/N’s bathroom.

     Y/N took a deep breath and threw her hand to her face. She could feel the heat on her cheeks, searing her hand. She reached for her wine, forgotten on the coffee table, and downed the rest of the glass. God knows she needed liquid courage.

    Bucky returned and Y/N only stared at him as he approached. Her eyes wide in anticipation. Bucky stopped inches in front of her and offered his hand.

    “I ain’t taking you on the couch, doll.” Bucky said in his smooth voice. The words combined with the tone had her clenching her thighs, something that didn’t go unnoticed. He gave a small smirk as she took his hand and let him lead her to her bedroom. Once inside the room, he motioned for her to sit on the bed and she did so. He kneeled in front of her and took her hands in his.

    “You sure about this, sweetheart?” Bucky was incredibly kind in his words, making sure she was positive.

    “You’re only making me more sure, Buck.” Y/N smiled at him and couldn’t help her eyes glancing down at his lips. They were so close to hers. She looked back to his eyes and saw that they were on her lips.

    “Can I kiss you?” His voice was quiet and low as his breath fanned across her lips. She nodded and brought a hand to his jaw as he leaned in. The first kiss they shared was short. Barely three seconds. But when Bucky pulled away and saw her eyes half-closed and pupils blown wide, he went back for more. Their lips crashed together and all Y/N could think about was how soft he was. The pink lips on hers felt like pillows, the hands on her knees felt like clouds. His hands travelled her denim-clad thighs and reached her round hips. Bucky gave an experimental squeeze, eliciting a moan from Y/N. Bucky smiled into the kiss.

    Y/N ran her hands into his hair, tugging lightly on the strands. Bucky groaned and pulled away slightly, only to move his lips to her neck. He left small love bites, soothing the bruised flesh with his tongue. Y/N whimpered and gasped as he worked.

    “Sensitive there, doll?” Bucky whispered against her skin. She could only nod, lost in him. He chuckled and pulled away, tugging at her shirt in silent question. She leaned back and pulled her shirt over her head, revealing baby blue lingerie. A laced corset accentuated her full breasts. There were lacy straps descending into her jeans, leaving just enough to the imagination. Bucky’s eyes travelled her form greedily. His hands came to rest on her waist, thumbs caressing the thin fabric.

    “Christ, Y/N. You’re gonna kill me.” Bucky pushed his lips into hers again letting his hands roam her figure freely now.

    “You next.” Y/N said between kisses as she pulled on his shirt. Bucky separated from her to pull his black tee shirt off.

    “Don’t expect anything lacy, doll.” Bucky gave her a minute to catch a breath. Her eyes roamed his form. She brought her hands to his chest and let her fingernails scratch over his abs gently. Bucky gave a low groan in his throat and covered her hands with his.

    “Baby… Don’t start something you’re not going to finish.” Bucky met her eyes to gauge her reaction.

    “Who says I’m not going to finish? I fully plan on finishing.” Y/N gave him a smirk and scratched her hands on his chest again.

    “Fuck, you asked for it.” Bucky groaned and pounced on her. Her back hit the bed and he leaned over her, caging her between his arms. She arched her hips into his and felt his erection even through both of their jeans.

    “Too many layers. Need to- need to feel you.” Y/N spoke between kisses. Bucky nodded and started kissing her neck again, trailing his tongue down the exposed skin. He left open mouthed kisses on her stomach through the lace of her lingerie. He popped the button on her jeans and pulled the zipper down, slowly dragging the denim down her thighs. Once they were off her long legs, he saw the continuance of her lingerie.

   Baby blue garters were strapped to her thighs, connected to crotchless panties. Glistening folds peaked out from behind the lacy material. He let out a sigh at the sight. Bucky tripped trying to rid himself of his own jeans, making Y/N giggle. His eyes snapped back to hers, amusement dancing in the blue.

   “What’s so funny, babydoll?” He crawled over her again, his black boxers the only thing left restraining his aching cock. She looked up at him with a ditzy smile on her face.

   “You’re a super soldier and you’re a-” Her words were cut off by a moan as Bucky’s right hand swiped through her folds, gathering her wetness on his fingers.

   “What was that, doll? You were saying?” He smirked at her as his fingers toyed with her clit. She only whined and moved her hips, rutting against his hand. Bucky looked down at her heat then back to her face, lost in pleasure.

   “Shit, baby. You fucking my hand?” Y/N nodded as a red blush came to her cheeks. Bucky leaned in to kiss her neck some more, letting her get herself off on his hand. She whimpered something he couldn’t quite hear.

   “Hm?” He pulled away from her neck, a goofy smile on his face, feeling drunk on her skin.

   “Said more, Buck. Please.” Her eyes opened to meet his, pleading want showing in the hazel hue. Bucky smiled and nodded, kissing down her body once again. Seeing where he was going, Y/N spoke.

   “You don’t have to- oh. Oh.” Her hands flew to the sheets as Bucky’s tongue slipped through her folds. Bucky sat up and pulled her hands to his hair, encouraging her to pull on it. He returned to her cunt and lapped at her clit. Y/N shivered underneath his touch. All the things he was doing were new experiences for her and Bucky was making sure they were all amazing. His tongue moved down to her hole, prodding at the entrance gently. He hooked her thighs over his shoulders and brought a thumb to her clit, rubbing small circles.

   “Bucky…” Various expletives and combinations of his name fell from Y/N’s lips as Bucky worked. “Bucky, your fingers. Please.” Y/N’s light gasp filled the air. Bucky nodded against her and brought his flesh hand up to tease her slit. Y/N caught the hand in her own and shook her head.

   “I want…” She trailed off, the embarrassment too much.

   “Want what, doll?” Bucky left small kisses on her thighs in reassurance.

   “I want the metal one.” Bucky’s eyes went wide at her words.

   “You- you want this? This turns you on?” He held up his hand, black and gold shimmering in the dull light of her bedroom. He had a look of pure confusion on his face. His hand was not something to be used here, with her. It was hard and cold and unforgiving, all things she was not. “Are you sure-”

   Bucky’s words were cut off as Y/N took his metal hand and lifted his index finger to her mouth, wrapping her swollen lips around it. She took the finger into the base, letting the tip hit the back of her throat. She coated it with her saliva and as she pulled it away there was a trail of wetness leading to her mouth.

   “Fuck… Christ, Y/N. You’re gonna give me a heart attack.” He pulled his metal finger from her grip and brought it to her heat, teasing the entrance with the first knuckle. She shivered and arched her back into his touch, trying to get more of him inside her. He slowly pushed the black and gold finger in, curling it experimentally. Y/N let out a pornographic moan when his finger brushed one particular spot. Bucky smirked.

    “Found you.”

    He brought his lips back to her clit, alternating between short licks and sucking the bud into his mouth. His finger maintained a steady pulse, hitting her G-spot with every movement. He could feel her clenching around his finger, her pussy pulling him in further.

   “You gonna cum, baby?” Bucky asked quickly, not wanting to take his mouth from her sweetness for any elongated time.

   “Yes, Bucky, Please, I’m so close.” She gripped his hair, pulling on it as she had imagined doing earlier.

   “Cum for me, doll. Cum all over my fucking metal hand.” The gentle vibrations of Bucky’s voice and the reminder of what exactly was making her feel so good sent her careening over the edge, holding onto his hair to keep her grounded in her body.

   “Bucky! Fuck, yes. Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop.” Her hips moved against his face, prolonging her orgasm. Bucky moaned into her center, enjoying the view of a beautiful girl in blue lingerie riding his face. When her hips stilled and her breath slowed, Bucky pulled away, his face covered in her slick. A blush came over her face at the sight.

   “You embarrassed?” Bucky asked her, coming to crawl over her again. She nodded briefly.

  “Don’t be. C’mere, baby. Taste yourself. Fucking delicious.” He pulled her to him by the neckline of her corset, crashing their lips together. She licked at his lips and he moaned at the feeling. Y/N pulled away and looked up at him with her swollen lips and darkened eyes. Bucky knew she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. He pulled the straps of the garters away from her body and let them snap back against her soft skin.

   “This needs to go.” Y/N hummed in agreement and looked at him mischievously. She hooked her leg under his and flipped them so he was on his back. His eyes widened in wonder and confusion, silently asking for an explanation.

   “Nat.”

   “Of course.”

   Y/N climbed off him and began pulling the various straps off her body. Slowly and teasingly, she became more exposed to him. Bucky palmed himself through his boxers as he watched, letting out small gasps every time a new segment of skin was unveiled. When she had taken the garters off, the only thing left was the corset. She reached behind her to unclip the buttons and let the garment fall to the ground. Bucky’s mouth dropped open as her breasts were finally revealed. She brought her arms to cover her chest, embarrassed. His gaze darkened and he reached his hands out, beckoning her to him. She climbed into his lap and his hands came to rest on the small of her back. He took her hands and guided them away from her chest.

   “Baby, shit, why’re you hiding these?” Bucky’s hands ghosted around the sides of her heavy breasts.

   “I don’t like them.” Y/N admitted honestly. Bucky’s eyes went wide and his mouth dropped in disbelief.

   “Y/N, believe me when I say, these are the best damn tits I’ve ever seen. Fucking beautiful.” Bucky leaned forward and captured a nipple in his mouth, circling his tongue around the nub. Y/N gasped as his metal hand came up to the other nipple, the contrast between his hot, soft, wet, mouth and his cold, hard, hand making her head spin.

  He pulled away from her to admire his handiwork. Red bruises on and surrounding her nipples.

  “Why don’t you like them?” He looked up to meet her eyes, a softness in them she didn’t get to see often.

  “The stretch marks…” Y/N looked down at her hands. Bucky pulled her chin up with his finger, forcing her to meet his eyes.

  “Baby. Do you realize who you’re talking to? Look.” He guided her hand to his left shoulder, shivering as her fingers ran over the scarred flesh.

  “I could give a shit less what scars you have. It just proves you’re strong. That you fought a battle and came out the other side. You’re beautiful.” Bucky raised himself up to press a kiss to her lips. Y/N smiled and shook her head, a blush covering her face. Bucky didn’t know how to convince her.

  “Let me prove it to you.” Y/N looked down at him. Bucky looked at her with earnest eyes. “Let me show you how beautiful you are.” Y/N was shocked at his gentleness. She had expected him to just have sex with her. She hadn’t predicted this level of intimacy. It was surprisingly… nice.

   “Ok.” Y/N said simply.

   “Ok? Gonna need something a little more enthusiastic than that, sweetheart.” Bucky’s words were teasing but she knew he was yet again making sure she was okay with this.

   Y/N threw her head back dramatically and exclaimed: “Take me! Take me and have your savage way with me!” Bucky roared with laughter and flipped her onto her back, kissing her lips gently.

   “That’ll do, doll.” Bucky kissed her neck gently and stood up.

   “Wait- what’re you doing?” Y/N asked. Bucky turned back to look at her, a bashful expression on his face.

   “I uh- I need a condom, doll. Unless you want a little me running around here.” Y/N let out a light laugh at the image. But something about the idea of a kid with Bucky’s eyes and her smile made her heart ache.

   “I mean, I’m on birth control. And I’m clean…” Bucky looks down at his hands. There was something more intimate about what she was asking him to do.

   “Yeah, me too. The serum it uh, keeps us from getting any diseases. STDs included. Lucky me, right?” Bucky gave a dry laugh and started walking back towards the bed. They were both suddenly a bit nervous. Y/N stood and took his hand, turning him so he was sitting on the edge of the bed. When she got on her knees in front of him, Bucky held out a hand to stop her.

   “You don’t need to-” Y/N gripped him through his boxers.

   “This is a learning experience right? Teach me how to do this too. For-” She took an uneasy pause. “For whoever comes next. Can’t be giving my first BJ to a stranger.” Bucky looked saddened by that. Whatever glimmer of emotion she thought she saw disappeared and he quickly reverted back to his normal self.

   “Yeah. Wouldn’t want that, hm?” Y/N looked up at him expectantly. Her eyes went from his boxers and back to his eyes.

   “Oh- right.” Bucky lifted his hips off the bed and slid his boxers off. His cock was at half-mast but was still shockingly large. Y/N’s eyes went wide. Gone were the nerves of a second ago. This was no longer present day Bucky, this was 40’s Bucky with all the swagger and charisma of a dashing young military sergeant.

    “Like what you see, doll?” Y/N rolled her eyes and looked up at him, awaiting instruction.

    “Ok, first, you’re gonna spit on your hand. Then start stroking.” Y/N obeyed. Bucky let out a loud hiss when her lubed hand touched his bare cock for the first time. She moved her hand up and down his shaft, twisting it slightly like she had seen in porn.

    “Fuck, sweetie. Just like that. Now, uh, lick the tip.” Bucky was already out of breath and Y/N decided she loved this. Loved seeing him come apart for her. Y/N leaned forward and placed an open mouthed kiss on the red tip. Bucky’s hips jutted into her mouth as he moaned.

    “Shit, sorry. Dunno what’s gotten into me.” Bucky looked down at her. Her eyes were half-closed, her lips were red and swollen, her neck was covered in marks that he had left… He knew exactly what had gotten into him. He just didn’t have the nerve to say it. It was times like these that Bucky Barnes really wished he could get drunk.

    Y/N kept stroking his cock as she pulled away to speak.

   “It’s okay. It was kind of hot.” She looked at him from under her thick eyelashes.

   “Yeah? You want me to do it again?” Bucky asked hesitantly.

   “Please.” Y/N replied.

   Bucky groaned and brought his hips a little closer to the edge of the bed.

   “You’re going to let me know if it gets too much at any time, alright?” Y/N nodded.

   “Open your mouth, doll.” Y/N did, opening as wide as she could to prepare for his girth. Bucky slid his cock into her mouth. “Breathe through- shit. Breathe through your nose, sweetheart. Relax your throat.” Y/N tried her best to obey his commands, sitting back on her heels to allow him to take full control. Bucky brought a hand to the back of her head, gathering her hair before starting to gently thrust into her mouth.

   “Fuck, baby. Feels so fucking good.” He looked down to see her staring up at him but the biggest shock was her hand between her thighs.

   “Are you- shit, are you touching yourself, doll?” She batted her eyelashes as if to say “What does it look like?” and he chuckled.

   “You look so good like this, baby. On your knees for me. Sucking- shit- sucking my cock like you were born to do it.” Bucky’s filthy words drew a moan from Y/N, sending vibrations through his cock. “Fuck! Oh- baby. Oh, god. This is gonna end a lot sooner than I’d like if we don’t stop.” Y/N made no move to pull away from him, continuing to let him fuck her throat.

   “Oh, is that what you want, hm? Want me to cum down that pretty throat of yours?” Y/N’s eyes fluttered closed as another moan escaped her. A shiver ran through Bucky’s body but he tapped her on the cheek. “Nuh-uh, babydoll. Wanna see those eyes. Those fucking eyes.” Y/N batted her eyelashes and moaned again. Bucky pulled out of her mouth suddenly. She pouted at him.

   “Doll- if I hadn’t stopped, I wouldn’t get to fuck you. That’s the whole point, right?” Bucky took her hand and pulled her to standing so he could kiss her. He pulled away so he could see her eyes flutter open, dizzy on him. “Those fucking eyes.” Bucky said with a smirk before picking her up and setting on the bed. She wrapped her legs around his waist and shivered when she felt his hot length on her thigh. Bucky looked at her one last time.

   “You sure, doll? I want this too, but I’ll go home with some major fucking blue balls if you’ve changed your mind.” Y/N threw her head back and laughed. Bucky only watched her, a soft smile coming across his face. How had he never noticed how beautiful her laugh was before?

   “I’m sure, Buck.” Y/N arched upwards to press a kiss to his lips.

   “Alright, then. What the lady wants…” Bucky reached between them and gripped his cock. He slid it through her folds a few times, gathering her wetness. Then he slowly pushed inside her with a loud groan from each of them. Bucky watched her face to gauge her reaction. A mix of pain and discomfort was painted on her features and it killed him. He hated hurting her but this is what she asked for. He continued pushing into her, inch by inch, trying to control his hips and keep from rutting into her. After a minute of tortuously slow moving, he bottomed out. A few tears had escaped Y/N’s eyes and he leaned down to kiss them off her cheek. Slowly, the look of pain disappeared from Y/N’s face.

   “Bucky-”

   “Yeah, doll?”

   “Please, move.”

   That was all it took to shatter his resolve. Bucky pulled out as much as she allowed him to, her pussy gripping him like a vice. He thrusted back into her warm depths, sighing at how well she took him.

   “So fucking tight, doll. Feels fucking heavenly.” Bucky’s fists tensed in the sheets beside her when she clenched around him.

   “Shit- oh. Someone has a praise kink.” Bucky muttered under his breath. Y/N nodded in desperation to hear him talk again.

   “You want me to keep talking? You like it when I talk to you, baby? Tell you how good you feel? How well you’re taking my cock?” Y/N shivered and her walls tightened around him.

   “Fuck, baby. You keep that up I’m not gonna last long.” Bucky propped himself up on his metal arm and reached his flesh one between their bodies, sticky with sweat. He rubbed gently at her clit as he thrusted, trying to time the rhythms together. Y/N cried out in pleasure, the sound music to Bucky’s ears.

   “Are you gonna cum, doll? Be a good girl and cum on my cock, yeah? Bet you look so fucking pretty when you cum for me.” Bucky kissed her neck sloppily, biting slightly on her pulse point. Bucky’s words and the new sensation sent her over the edge. Y/N’s hands gripped her pillow as Bucky sat back to look at her. She was beautiful as she came undone on his cock. She looked majestic. Holy. Like a goddess he’d get on his knees and pray to or a queen he’d serve until his dying breath.

   “Bucky, oh- baby. Just like- Oh-” Y/N shivered as her orgasm wrecked her, every thrust of Bucky’s hips prolonging the sensation. Bucky took in her post-orgasmic state.

   She was a mess. Her tits were sweaty and shiny as they bounced in the dull light of her bedroom. Her neck was covered in a smattering or bruises. She seemed to notice his gaze because she reached for him, pulling his face down to hers and kissing him roughly. She looked down to where their bodies met. Bucky’s eyes followed her own and he moaned in absolute delight at the scene. He closed his eyes quickly out of reflex. Protect himself. Protect Y/N. Don’t lose control. Y/N placed a gentle kiss on his nose and his eyes snapped open to meet hers.

   “Let go.” That simple sentence gave Bucky a gentle push over the edge and then he was falling. Not a hard fall with an ending that would leave him mentally unstable and minus an arm, but more of a pleasant roller coaster drop. He felt safe in her arms as he let go, shooting ropes of white cum inside her.

   “Y/N- fucking hell. Baby- So fucking good.” Bucky was very vocal as his hips slowed to a stop. His cock twitched from the oversensitivity. He knew he’d have to pull out eventually, but he wasn’t in any hurry. She was wet and warm and inviting and the world outside her bedroom was cold and cruel and unforgiving. Bucky knew he’d stay there forever if she let him.

   But that’s not what he was here for. Not for life, not even for the night. Just for an hour. Just until she’d had her cherry popped and she’d send him on his way like some kind of sick business deal. With great effort, Bucky convinced his body to pull from her soft depths, smearing cum and slick down her thighs. He stood and began gathering his clothes.

   “What- what’re you doing?” Bucky looked back at Y/N. She had her knees tucked into her chest and was staring up at him with those fucking eyes.

   “I’m leaving.” Y/N’s eyes drooped at his words.

   “Oh.”

   Bucky pulled on his boxers and elected to get changed out of her view- the harsh stare on his back was getting to be too much. He had his hand on the doorknob when she spoke.

   “Please- please don’t go.” This time when Bucky looked at Y/N, her eyes were rimmed with tears. He dropped his clothes and ran to her, cradling her face.

   “Why’re you crying, babydoll? What’s wrong?” His eyes sought hers, trying to understand what was happening behind them.

   “You were going to leave.” Y/N’s tears hadn’t fallen yet. She was always so strong. Bucky wished he knew how to make her feel safe enough to be weak.

   “I figured you’d want me to.” His thumb stroked her cheek.

   “No. I- I want you to stay. Please stay.” Y/N’s hands reached up and wrapped around his wrists, keeping them in place.

   “Then I’ll stay. I’ll stay, doll. Just please- don’t cry.” Bucky kissed her forehead and pulled her into his chest. If he felt a small wet spot growing where her head lay, he didn’t say anything.

   Eventually she pulled away from him. Y/N’s eyes met his and Bucky knew then- he was wrecked. Utterly, completely, wrecked.

   “Will you sleep with me?” She asked. He understood she meant sleep next to her in bed. Keep her warm with his touch and keep her mind calm with his presence. He nodded and she unravelled herself from his arms. She stood and tucked herself into her warm covers, beckoning for him to join her. Her body was naked still, but he didn’t care. Preferred it, actually. Not for any perverted reason. He had missed the feeling of warm flesh on his own. A body that wasn’t about to die underneath him. It was...nice.

  Bucky crawled into bed beside her, exposing his right side for her to cuddle into if she wished. She did. She laid her head on his shoulder and ran a hand up and down his stomach, tracing invisible patterns.

   “Thank you.” She said.

   “Anytime.”

   After a while, her breath evened out. He watched her back rise and fall. He knew he had to leave in the morning- but for now he’d allow himself to indulge in the simple pleasures of the smell of her shampoo and the way her heart beat in time with his.  

[piecksz]

starstruck | (m)

pairings: rockstar!eren yeager x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw, penetrative sex, fingering, creampie, roughness, drug use, explicit language

words: 4.4k+

summary: you and your friend decide to sneak backstage at your band’s favorite concert and the vip treatment you recieve is more than you bargained for.

inspired by 

a/n: you know the drill :p obey (with YUNGBLUD) by bring me the horizon it’s literally not a sexy song so don’t go in listening to it expectin to get horny LMAOO it’s just the kind of sound i imagined eren’s band to have, but it was sexy to me bc the image of rockstar eren tormented me the entire time i wrote this 

“I can’t believe I agreed to this. This is fucking crazy.” Your friend’s voice was a fidgety whisper behind you. Her face’s close proximity to the back of your neck had her heavy expiration fanning over your nape every time she opened her mouth to reprimand herself for allowing you to beguile her into illegal trespassing.

“You’re fucking crazy,” she whispered again, tugging the leather sleeve of your jacket with a pesky grip.

You shrugged her touch off of your arm and took a brief glimpse over your shoulder to offer her a sour look. “Can you be quiet? You freaking out is making us look suspicious.” You whisked your head back around, peering around the corner of the vacant merch tent.

“No, us creeping around to sneak onto a fucking tour bus is making us look suspicious,” she retorted.

The corner of your mouth tightened at your friend’s concern and you lifted your hand to give her a dismissive wave. You were astounded when she had originally agreed to your brazen proposal, although it took minutes of incessant pleading for her to actually give in. Her veiled reluctance surfaced the minute you two had separated from the concert’s crowd at the end of the show and snuck around the stage to the back of the venue. What began as her unease and quiet suggestions that maybe your idea wasn’t so smart, intensified into irritating nagging. You gave her the option to turn around and wait for you back at the car, but as your companion, she sighed and remarked that something so stupid couldn’t be done alone.

“I see it,” you said eagerly and with a proud grin. The vehicle was stationed a decent distance from where the two of you had been standing, but you measured the stretch with your eyes and figured that if you walked quickly enough, you’d be able to make it on without being caught.

“How do we even know they’re on it?” Your friend craned her head past yours to get a better view of what you saw.

“We don’t. I’m just guessing.”

“Oh great, that’s exactly the answer I wanted.” She released a tense and quiet laugh before retreating back behind the screen of the tent.

You surveyed the security guards as they patrolled back and forth along the premises, waiting until the coast was clear. Once you noticed an opening, you forcefully grabbed your friend’s wrist, ignoring her silent grunt of protest, and pulled her along. She stumbled into your stride and peered over at you, doing her best to follow your quick feet while mirroring your nonchalant guise.

Closer and closer, the two of you neared the tour bus until it had to have been only yards away. You tried to remain composed through your excitement, making sure you didn’t break your character. No fucking way your plan had actually gone off without a hitch, it almost seemed too easy.

“Hey!”

You kept walking. Maybe the exclamation wasn’t for you, but once the holler was thrown again, your body went rigid, and the tempo of your steps slowed until you stopped in your tracks. The adrenaline that commanded your legs had been substituted for lead and it kept your feet pinned to the ground. You couldn’t even run.

“Hey, you two aren’t supposed to be back here.”

You blinked once, long and hard, before pivoting on your heel. You watched, mortified, as a burly security guard started in your direction and got closer until he loomed over you both with a threatening advantage in height.

He looked even angrier now that you could see the way his thick eyebrows creased together and created a ripple of lines above them that disappeared into a bald head. His hefty arms were crossed against his chest while he glowered down at you two, waiting to hear a story. You could tell your excuse wouldn’t matter though, it was obvious he wasn’t in the mood for jocular conversation.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, we were looking for the bathroom,” you explained, clasping your hands together and feigning an apologetic smile. You turned your head from side to side, looking around innocently to sell your lie, and then looked back up at the guard with a nervous laugh. “And I guess it’s not here.”

Your friend shook her head and said nothing, but you were certain she was drawing up a creative speech in her head, wondering how she would tell you that she “told you so” this time.

“Nice try.” The guard curled his lip angrily. “Come on.” He reached out a thick hand and wrapped it around your bicep while grabbing the back of your friend’s shirt with a crude yank. Your eyes went wide at his hostile grip and you jerked your arm, trying to free yourself of his hold.

“Hey, whoa!” His grip only tightened. “We can walk ourselves!”

The guard forced you two forward, prompting you to walk so he could escort you off the grounds.

“What’s going on?”

You looked up and your writhing ceased. Instead, heat flushed your cheeks and you stood dazed. It didn’t take long before you recognized the owner of the voice because, naturally, you would have been able to recognize him from a mile away, but luckily you didn’t have to. He was right in front of you.

It was Eren, the lead singer and guitarist of the band you had been screaming your heart out to not even an hour ago. He was your favorite member, meaning you’d watched countless interviews and had several pictures of him saved on your phone, but nothing could have prepared you for what he looked like up close. His long brown hair looked like it was still damp with sweat, a sign of his showmanship on stage, and it framed his face in careless wisps and fell loosely past his shoulders. His torso was unclad, showing the dark inkings that adorned his biceps and stretched all the way up his shoulders until they met at the detailed design of wings in the middle of his chest. Dark ripped jeans sat loosely, just below his hips, and teased a peek at deep v-lines that ran underneath the top of his waistband.

You fought off the urge to drop to your knees and pray for how sinfully hot he looked.  

Trailing behind him were his bandmates, Armin and Jean, the band’s other guitarists, and Connie, the band’s drummer. You had never seen such an attractive circle of friends where you would have been satisfied taking any of them, and although you avowed to your friend that Connie was hers since she favored him, you absolutely would’ve allowed him to do whatever he wanted to you.

“Caught these two trying to sneak onto the tour bus.” The security guard thrusted you two ahead with an unsatisfied huff, and you shot him a glare.

Eren’s attention dropped from the security guard’s face and drifted over to your friend first before settling on you, eyes sweeping over your face and falling at half-mast. He arched an eyebrow then averted his gaze from your chest.

“It’s cool, let them go.”

“Are you sure?” The security guard’s grip on you loosened, and you pulled out of his hold the minute you felt him unhand you.

Eren shrugged. “Yeah. They can hang.” He quickly dismissed the security guard and casually sauntered past you before disappearing onto their bus.

You glanced over at your friend who looked like she was still in the process of trying to grasp the situation evolving in front of her.

“What kind of assholes turn away fans?” Jean teased, giving you a warm smile before he lifted his half-empty water bottle to his lips.

Connie switched his drum sticks to one hand and slipped them behind his back into his pocket.  “You guys are fans, right? You’re not trying to steal a couple of used water bottles to sell online are you?”

You took a lengthy pause and waited for your friend to answer, giving her an opportunity to converse with him, but she said nothing. She just rocked back and forth on her feet, staring at the ground timidly to avoid looking Connie in the eye.

“No,” you answered for her. “I mean yes, we’re fans. Big fans. No to trying to sell your DNA.”

Your response earned a chuckle from Armin and a hearty laugh from Connie while he nodded in approval. “Alright.” He tilted his head in the direction of the bus as though encouraging you two on.

You watched as the rest of the members filed inside, and then your friend seized your hand frantically.

“Holy shit. Y/N, holy shit!” She squealed, and you snorted at her sudden ability to talk once again. “You saw him right? You saw him.” It didn’t take much detail for you to gather that she was gushing about Connie.  

“Did you even see him? Your head was down the whole time, you didn’t say a single word to him.”

Your friend’s animated face slackened into a placid expression. “I didn’t trust myself. If I opened my mouth I would have asked him to put me in a headlock.” She exhaled. “Jesus Christ, those arms.” Your goading smile stretched into an amused grin, and you shook your head at your friend’s hysterical behavior.

The inside of the tour bus was much larger than you would have deduced from its seemingly modest exterior. Its floors were dark and polished wood that matched the ceiling, both surfaces lined with subdued yellow light. Aside from the sizable kitchen to your right, large leather couches sat on either side of the lounge area, and stretching to the bus’ rear were dimly lit bunk beds that were half-obscured by a dark curtain.

“Holy shit, this is a house on wheels,” your friend breathed, mouth agape.

“Well we’re on the road most of the time, so it might as well be,” Armin answered, throwing himself into one of the sofas with a labored sigh. He threw his head back in exhaustion and brought his arms up to rest against the top of the couch. “We never caught your names by the way.”

Both you and your friend introduced yourselves, forgoing a proper introduction from the band’s members. You evidently already knew who they were.

Armin smiled. “Nice to meet you guys.”

Jean shuffled through, handing you and your friend a water bottle, which you accepted with much appreciation. You hadn’t taken heed of how thirsty you’d been, and you hadn’t had anything to drink since the concert had started. Even while you swooned in the crowd between sweaty bodies, dehydration threatening to ruin your fun, you’d refused to pay $4 for a beverage.

“Make yourselves at home.” He threw another bottle to Armin.

“Oh no, we’re not planning on staying that long.” Your friend laughed, clutching onto her drink so tightly that the plastic squeaked in her grip.

You nudged her in the ribs with an assertive elbow and said her name quietly through clenched teeth, barely audible enough for the two of you to hear. She looked at you with uncertainty, and you gave her a forced grin.

“Don’t be rude. They said we should make ourselves at home.” You obliged to Jean’s invite, taking a seat in one of the leather cushions.

The situation you were in was a rare opportunity, the type of opportunity you’d only heard from other people, the type of opportunity you’d read fanfiction about in your early adolescence. If anyone told you that you’d be living such an opportunity, you weren’t sure if you’d really believe them, but had you declined to appease your friend’s irrational concern, you knew you’d regret it for years.

“Did you guys enjoy the show?” Connie leaned against the wall of the bus and wedged a rolled stick of paper between his pursed lips. He brought a hand-held lighter to the end of the stick, sparking it a few times with his thumb before a small flame engulfed the thin paper and thick smoke billowed from its tip. It only took a moment before the pungent, herbal stench of marijuana invaded the inside of the tour bus.

“Of course, you guys are amazing.” You nodded, perching yourself up in your seat and clapping your hands together excitedly. “We’ve been trying to see you guys in concert for a long time now.”

Eren fell into the seat beside you, and your body tensed up almost instantly. You’d managed to feign calmness from your first encounter because it had been easy to masquerade your nervousness from a distance, but now that he was even closer, surely he could have heard your heart palpitating against your ribcage. Its beating grew even quicker once Eren sat back and slid his arm behind you to lay it atop the backrest.

“Yeah?” His voice was languid. “What’s your favorite song?”

“That’s a hard question,” you chuckled, suddenly becoming very interested in the sleeves of your jacket. “I seriously don’t know if I can pick just one.” It hadn’t been a hard question at all, but you simply couldn’t think through the smell of his faded cologne and the feeling of his naked chest up against the side of your arm.

“That’s cool,” Eren smiled, but responded plainly. “You smoke?”

Your eyes drifted up to see Eren offering you a partially-burnt joint in between two fingers. He inhaled deeply from his hit and exhaled, a thick white cloud rolling past his lips.

You hadn’t smoked before, and you weren’t an avid consumer of weed. One edible at a party had you manic until your friends had to calm you down in a separate room and reassure you that you weren’t dying, but you still accepted it hesitantly. You brought it to your lips and took a deep draw before erupting into a fit of coughs.

“Easy,” Eren laughed, and his warm hand rubbed the nape of your neck soothingly. He took the joint from your hands and held it towards Armin.

Your chest and throat heaved with the searing sensation of a foreign substance, and your body racked with an incessant wheeze until it was sure it had expelled all of the stuff. Eren beside you thought it was the funniest thing.

“So you guys in college?” Connie asked, this time directing his question to your friend since you clearly couldn’t respond.

She nodded quickly, still avoiding making eye contact with him. He must have noticed and thought it was endearing because the corner of his mouth quirked upward into a knowing smirk.

“Sick,” Eren remarked. “I dropped out of college, but you guys should stay in school, seriously.”

“Don’t worry I have no plans to drop out and become a musician,” you rasped once your coughing subsided.

He paused for a moment and then looked at you. “What about a boyfriend?” His eyes drank you in from bottom to top until he met your clueless stare.

“Do I have a boyfriend?” You blinked, and then the tip of your ears went up in an uncomfortable heat that spread over the side of your face until your skin was aflame with realization. “No.”

“That’s good.” Eren studied you from behind heavy lids and he lingered on your lips, his own spreading into a suggestive grin. “So it’s cool if I do this?”

He leaned in and affixed his lips at the curve of where your jaw met your ear. His mouth was hot and the kiss was wet against your feverish skin. He planted another one lower, against the hollow dip where your neck curved, and then he bent the arm resting behind your head, using his hand to turn your face toward him so that when he tilted himself forward again, he could kiss you without interference. His lips were soft and slow as they commanded your mouth to follow his rhythm, and you withheld a desperate and excited whimper once Eren slipped a seductive tongue past your teeth.

He relaxed another hand on your leg, rubbing slow circles into the top of your thigh while edging closer and closer to the top of your waistband. Once his leisure fingers skimmed over your pants’ button, he skillfully undid the first hole before moving on to your zipper. You made a small sound of protest and pulled back in embarrassment.

“In front of your bandmates?” you questioned in a breathy whisper.

Eren shrugged, looking unfazed. “They don’t care. Nothing they haven’t seen before.”

Your heart twisted painfully in your chest. He was a goddamn celebrity for crying out loud, had you really thought you were the first girl he brought onto the bus to fuck? And he’d done it in front of his bandmates? You shifted uncomfortably, looking to Armin, Jean, and Connie who were now occupied with showing your friend pictures they’d been sent from professional photographers after past shows.  

“I don’t know,” you admitted timidly.

Eren rolled his head to the side, visibly bothered by your response. He glanced over to his bandmates and swept through his locks with a lazy hand. “Hey, why don’t you guys go show her the stage set before they pack up?”

Your friend looked away from the laptop they were gathered around and over her shoulder. “But—.”

Eren’s fingers trailed up and down the side of your neck, clearly eager to resume your previous matters. Were you really about to pass up this chance?

You gave your friend a reassuring thumbs up alongside Eren’s suggestion. “I’ll come find you later.”

It almost seemed like Eren sent his bandmates an unspoken cue, because Connie quickly chimed in before your friend had another turn to object. “Yeah. It’s okay, we’ll take care of you.” He wrapped a tattooed arm around your friend’s shoulder and gave her a friendly shake.

You could almost see the rise and fall of her chest cease, and you actually grew worried for her. It looked like she had nearly died and came back to life, but her stunned face melted into a flustered smile and she laughed sheepishly. “Okay.”

Connie nodded and gave Eren a two finger salute before escorting your friend off the bus with Jean and Armin following closely behind.

Once the door to the bus closed Eren shifted his attention back to you.

“There. Problem solved.” His green eyes had darkened and clouded over with desire again. “You feel better?”

“I guess,” you murmured.

You didn’t get a second chance to speak because Eren’s lips coupled to yours once more, and his hands continued against your zipper before he slipped his fingers into your underwear. He brought two fingers to your slit, skimming lightly over the delicate skin before sliding his middle finger between your folds to part them.

You released a sharp gasp against Eren’s mouth as you felt the cold metal of his rings against your cunt, but he made no efforts to pull away. The earthy taste of marijuana on his tongue caused your head to swim and you began to feel the drug’s intoxicant effects yourself. Your limbs grew heavier as you lay slack against Eren’s body while the sensation of his soft strokes against your tender clit had you whimpering against his lips.

He dipped his finger down to your body’s orifice, sliding it into your hole to glaze the digit with your arousal.

“God, you’re so tight.” Eren’s voice was deep as he pulled away from your mouth and both of you looked down to watch the way he worked you. “I want you around my cock.”

Your hips jerked involuntarily against his hand with the mention of his desire, and he brought his touch back up to your clit, using your essence as lubrication. The bus was quiet except for the symphony of Eren’s husky pants and your lewd whines as he slowly quickened the pace when he felt your body begin to tremble against his.

“Fuck, Eren—,” you mewled. You hadn’t even given thought to how unusual his name sounded coming out of your mouth. Eren, the singer and lead guitarist of your favorite band had his fingers inside of your pants, and here you were moaning his name. “Oh fuck—.”

Your orgasm intensified quickly after its onset, you hadn’t even realized you were climaxing until your body was convulsing and your fingers were digging into Eren’s biceps.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—Eren—,” you cried.

“That’s it,” Eren cooed. “Atta girl.”

His fingers continued working against your clit until you wrapped a sweaty hand around his wrist, a silent plea for him to stop before he sent you into overstimulation.

He hummed in amusement and heeded your request before pulling his hands out of your underwear. Now he worked his hands against his own belt, unfastening the buckle before pushing his jeans down with his briefs in one swift and eager motion. His cock was half-hard and continued growing rigid after he took himself in his hand and began pumping his throbbing length.  

You watched in wonderment as his palm worked painfully slow against his thick shaft, and pearls of precum gathered at his tip before dribbling down his swollen head. Your own dirty fantasies where you’d tried to envision how big Eren was hardly did him justice.

You rose to your feet, kicking off your shoes with haste, and stepped out of your pants. You shrugged off your jacket as well, realizing how uncomfortably sticky your sweaty arms felt against the leather material.

“Come here,” Eren hummed, and released his cock. He held his hands out for you to take, and he pulled you onto his lap. He supported your waist until your knees were mounted on either side of his thighs, and you pulled your underwear to the side, allowing his pulsating tip to prod your entrance.

“You gonna show me how well you ride?” he asked, thumbs rubbing circles into your hips.

You nodded, resting your hands on his shoulders and undulating your wet folds against his cock. You released a desperate whimper every time he nudged your clit.

“Yeah? Show me.”

Eren watched as you slipped him in, and what started as a whine deepened into an obscene cry while you felt him stretch your walls out. You eased down until you sat at the base of his cock and he’d filled you to the hilt.

You dug your teeth into your lower lip, waiting to adjust to his girth before you slowly started moving up and down. Eren’s shallow breathing encouraged you while you lifted yourself up and then back down, each time releasing an agonizing sob.

“Good girl.” Eren’s large hands traveled up from your waist and rested on your chest. “Just like that.” He loosely cupped his hands over your clothed chest, adoring the way your quickening pace caused your breasts began to jounce underneath your shirt, but your ache to feel his touch everywhere along your skin became uncontrollable.

Your fingers curled around the hem of your top and you quickly slipped the material off, tossing it onto the couch beside you. You did the same with your bra, too impatient to fumble around with the pesky hooks.

Eren grinned lazily, before resting his palms against your breasts and giving them a small jiggle. He leaned forward, lolling his tongue out, and flicked its tip against the hardening bead of your nipple. He looked up at you with half-lidded eyes and smiled at the way you murmured his name before rolling his thumb over the wet skin.

“So fucking hot,” Eren praised. He gave your other breast a brisk slap, watching it shake with the impact, and then he took you in his mouth. He sucked hungrily before taking your nipple between his teeth and tugged on it.

You continued bouncing on Eren’s cock before he released a guttural groan and threw his head back. “Fuck, don’t stop.” The tattoos along his sweaty chest expanded with each uneven breath. “I’m gonna cum.”

Eren’s hands traveled down to your ass, and black-painted nails dug into your skin while he directed you up and down. You rolled your hips against him until you felt his cock jerk inside you, and then he was filling you up.

Eren unloaded himself into you and your walls fluttered around his quivering length. His balls spasmed, making sure he’d jettisoned every drop of thick, white cum. He pulled his cock out before your knees gave way and you collapsed next to him. Your pussy clenched around nothing, still adjusting to Eren’s absence, and you felt his release leak out of your hole.

You heaved, eyes strung tightly, while you desperately tried to catch your breath. You had to have been dreaming. You kept your eyes closed, fearing that you’d wake, but they fluttered open instinctively when you felt Eren’s weight lift from beside you.

“Where are you going?” You watched as he tugged his pants up and fastened his buckle before shuffling around the bus looking for something. Jesus Christ, just how much stamina did this guy have?

“Your friend’s probably wondering what’s taking you so long,” Eren replied, disappearing behind the curtain leading to the bedroom in the back of the bus.

Your hand flew to your forehead and you sat up, feeling guilty that you had completely forgotten your friend. Knowing her, she was probably worrying herself sick wondering what Eren had possibly done to you. You started retrieving your clothes and getting dressed, but you paused momentarily, calling out to wherever Eren had been on the bus.

“I should give you my number.” You stuck a leg into your pants. “You know, just to keep in touch.” You stuck your other leg in and hopped around, pulling your pants up.

Eren reappeared from behind the curtain, tugging on a fitted black t-shirt. “Don’t worry about that.”

You popped your head out from under your shirt and reached for your jacket. You laughed lightly and gave him a confused look.

“Safety and shit. We can’t give our personal information out to just anyone.” He gave you a pitiful smile, but you could tell it was more for you than for him.

“Oh,” you responded quietly.

Eren seemed unconcerned with the guidelines he was given, as though he didn’t care much about whether he even remembered your name once they were on the road again.

“Don’t look so sad babe. You’re lucky.” He tilted his head toward you and raised his eyebrows. “Not everyone gets to fuck a rockstar.”

[thefanbasewhore]

His

Prompt no. 31 from @sweeterthanthis's "Quote me on it" 6k writing challenge! - Suck me, beautiful. - Also sorry for all the repost! - tags problem

Summary || Bucky doesn't like when his things gets touched.

Paring || Biker! Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word count || 4,015

Warning || (18+, content) , degradation, slight dub-con (but not really, reader is willing), p in v, oral receiving , jealous!Bucky, - you have been warned.

Side note || shout out to my bestie @fuckandfluff for beta reading this for me <3

It is hard to miss his eyes, the way they darken just enough to show interest. Dark and shallow like the depths of the deepest canyon – shallow with no sign of life. Sparking in this little game of predator and prey but no one dares to make a move.

Tugging his lip between teeth the moment he catches your glance, smirking as flirty eyes run up and down your body but then back to his friend. His gaze is hot - pure lava that burns the skin, but it feels so, so good.

To have the attention of James Barnes, a man your mother would never approve of and other men cower to. He is beautiful, seafoam blue eyes that accompany strong features, and soft, pink lips to top it off.

You smile shyly, cheeks darkening under the gaze as top off the few coffees on at the bar. Bucky watches at the corner of his peripheral, casually conversing but cannot help but notice the way the man comes behind you, pressing a hand to the small of your back as he joins into the conversation.

Bucky leans forward, listening intensely as the hand slips lower and lower until it cups the curve of your ass. Bucky stands so fast with blurred vision, with one goal in mind; protect his girl’s honor but he watches the way your lips twitch into a polite smile as you throw your head back to laugh, quickly excusing yourself but not before catching the intense, darkening gaze of Bucky.

Two rather large hands grasp your arm, pulling you into the side pantry, located right before the kitchen doors with force.

"Wh-." You don't even get the chance to speak before being pressed against the wall - a heavy weight, chest crushing against your back. Soft, heavy breaths as a hand anchors your hip, pressing you harshly into the metal preparation table. A hand flat against your shoulder and lowers you down until your stomach touches the table, bending you to his will.

"You wanted this, didn't you, pretty girl?" He coos as the curve of his nose runs through your hair, taking a lungful of scent, floral mixed with strawberry shampoo and a hint of grease. You let out an exaggerated squeal as he pushes his hips deeper against your ass to feel the heavy thickness of his aching cock. "Oh, you did."

Calloused but gentle hands grasp your shoulders, running up and down the length of back as he presses a few meaningful kisses to your spine. "Want me to fuck you right here? Mmmm, you dirty girl."

"James, we can’t do this -."

"I'll do whatever I want." He hisses against your skin, "When I want to and there's nothing you can do about it."

Warm, smooth lips press into your shoulder following with a thick line of spit from his hot tongue and nipping teeth.

Nimble fingers dig into the skin of your shoulder, turning you around to face him with a deep scowl. A gentle hand cups your face - angling your eyes to meet his face, fingers soaking the skin of your hairline. He does not move, not breath fanning your face as he just stares.

So beautiful like this, flushed and hair messily forming knots from his hands and a few loose pieces stick to your wet skin. A cool hand against your neck releases a gasp from your lips but he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, nibbling on your bottom lip and molding his body into your own.

It is feverish, the way your hands raise to spread into his hair, feeling his breath hitch. A rough hand pulls at the blouse of your dress, exposing the heavy breast. Bucky presses his lips into your own watching as your eyelashes flutter close and inhale deeply.

"Sweet girl, tell me -." He rubs his harness roughly against you, nipping at the skin of your neck. "Did you like his hands on you?"

A whine gets stuck in your throat as harsh teeth nip at your lip with a growl and in response lean forward to connect the invisible line, but he stops you with the press of his fingers, but you continue to reach forward to split his lips open and slide your tongue in. Eyes tightening with envy, lips long and thinning as a result but it does not stop him from returning it, sliding his tongue against your own with ferocity.

Bucky huffs - hands falling to cup your ass, massaging the fat between his hand with a squeeze. "You're making it hard to stay mad at you."

Buck’s eyes flutter, eyelashes soothing the skin of your breast with a huff. He says for a second, evaluating the situation: his hardness throbbing, pressed between your creamy thighs.

“Buck..” The whine of his name wanting and feral shoots straight to his aching cock.

Fingers cup your chin and grip to watch lip’s part with want, while two metal fingers touch your tongue, sliding along the ridges of it until they reach the back of your throat, gagging around them but Bucky doesn't pull away instead holds them there, a cocky smirk pressing against your cheek with harsh kisses. "You don't get a say, keep your mouth shut, do you understand?"

"Yes, I'm sorr -."

"What are you sorry for? Tell me, sweet girl."

You try to speak but Bucky does not give you the chance, "Say sorry for being a little whore."

"Buck!" Two thick, cold fingers run along the underside of your breast, slow and antagonizing as they trail across the skin of your stomach to the hem of your panties teasingly.

The other hand - still wrapped around your hair pulls tightly, "I told you to say sorry."

"I'm sorry!" You whine and peer up into his eyes with a quivering bottom lip, only to be met with the intense dark gaze.

"For what?"

"Being a little whore." You whine pathetically, "I'm sorry!"

Two large fingers spread over your clothed pussy with a loud whine, pushing your hips into the working digits. "Please, please."

To your surprise Bucky moves closer, sinking to his knees with a few seconds of silence to commit the sight to his memory. Hips lift from the cool table as Bucky clicks his tongue under his breath, lips move agonizingly slow, hands cupping both of her breasts through the fabric of your bra feeling nipples react instantly, hard through the thin material of the shirt.

“I-I..” Tears of frustration, wet eyes, wanting to cry and beg but it would be no use. Not with those cold, daring eyes.

Bucky can't help but stare, the light-colored fabric left little to the imagination, dark hairs shape against it, the wet patching showing just how badly you want him.

With your eyes closed, it is practically sensory overload. Skin on fire, small bee stings follow the warmness of his touch. Ears twitch with heat, breath against the skin of your thighs as lips touch the inner skin. Buck makes sure to take his time, spreading the wetness around the bare mound with his thumb, throat dry and his mouth parting with want.

Eyelashes flutter with a moan, skin flushing pink with chest heaving with deep breaths, grinding your own desperate hips against his hand.

His hand leaves you completely with a loud protest, but it is cut short with a hand against your hip to flip you around onto your stomach, face pressing against the cool metal as the same hand digs into your right hip, dragging them high into the air.

His length is heavy, straining against the back of your thigh. Pressing a kiss to your lower back up to the bare skin of shoulder blades. The swirling and clanking of vibranium plates as a barbarous hand kisses the flesh of your ass, harsh and brutal with every clench of his jaw.

A gentle palm smooths the burning, reddening skin. His other thumb spreading across your clit, whining with the contact. His finger’s hook inside with no warning, filling you to the brink

The two fingers scissor against your walls, coat with her arousal that helps him trust them back into you again until they hit that spongy part that makes you squeal. The instant the sound leaves your lips, your hand cups your mouth to conceal the noise but he only slaps it away with threatening eyes, "I want to hear every single sound, understand?"

You squeeze around him, hips naturally fighting his own trust of his fingers. "You look so fucking good, moaning my name so everyone can hear you."

He groans at the tightness and it instantly sends shivers down his skin, electric shocks down his spine to his dripping cock, pre-cum smearing against the confides of his boxers, a wet patch seeping through the dark, jean material.

Fingers never lead up, filling and entering as soon as they left, over and over again until you feel a sudden snap, a wave of heat that curls inside your stomach, mouth ajar as Bucky quickens the pace, pressing soft kisses to your underthighs, watching his fingers move in and out. Lips sucking softly on the skin, huffing in frustration at his own arousal throbs to replace his fingers, watching as you drip into his fingers down his hand and your thighs.

“Buck!” it’s a warning to make him suck harder; fingers so good it makes you mewl.

“Cum pretty girl, give it to me.”

All it takes is seven words and his finger to milk you through your orgasm. Legs begin to tremble, his heart thumping inside his chest as your walls squeeze his fingers with a cry. "That's it, good girl."

Your chest falls and raises quickly against the table, but Bucky’s fingers do not leave the heat between your thighs. Blind fingers reach behind to palm his hardness, it's so gentle and it’s an experimental touch that makes him groan and heart flutter but he chooses to ignore it and grunt loudly.

He uses this time to look at you, completely soaked, begging for more as your thighs squeeze together.

"Greedy Girl, stop that."

Hands spread across the back of bare thighs, trailing to squeeze a large handful of your cheek. "You look so good like this."

His arms flexes and expands against your thighs again as fingers curl into the softness of them, anchoring himself as lips closing around your clit, suckling softly.

“Buck - wait!” it is a whine of surprise as his tongue flickers against the sensitive bundle and sinks into the gaping hole. His finger’s moving faster, pace increasing with every squeal, scream or sound that’s made.

His tongue does not let up from your clit as his fingers pushed deeper inside, purposely messaging the spot found in the deepest of your pussy, his cock throbbing at the thought of feeling it.

Hips lifting off the table trying to escape his brutal lips, but he does not allow it as his free hand fell to hips, roughly pushing you back down against the cool surface. “Stay.” The vibrations make you cry, begging for more.

Fingers curling in you to collect any juice they possibly could spreading against you as much as he could manage through the way your hips jolt, a soft mumble makes you moan.

The familiar feeling of heat building up and bubbling in your lower abdomen spreading warmth throughout your whole body as he continued to finger fuck you as fast he could. The heavenly sound of wetness dripping to his hand, covering his face and onto the table. “Give it to daddy, princess, I want more."

“I’m -.“ His name is like a prayer on your lips and his only reply is slamming his finger back into as hard as he could, lips puckering against your clit one more time. Eyes rolling back into your head as the delicious swirl of heat ignites deep inside your stomach and he sucks up everything he could manage.

The instant your body slumps, Bucky's fingers grab at your hips and presses a kiss against your lower back as you hear the jingle of his belt, pulling it from the loops before carelessly throwing it across the room.

His sweetness is short-lived as a hand cups your jaw, his chest pressing against your back with a whisper. "On your knees."

The shuffle from the table to the floor is easy, positioning yourself right in front of his crotch, he is hard, head poking through the top of his boxers easily visible from his unbuttoned pants.

"Suck me, beautiful..." Bucky peers down at you, using his digit to run along the line of you jaw - thumb pinching at the pit of your chin. "Open those pretty lips for me."

Despite the burning of your knees in contrast of the hard, tile floor you oblige, mouth parting as the skin of his appendage dips to your tongue, pressing hard on it. His other hand reaches down to pull his pants, along with the black briefs down his legs just enough to release him.

He groans as his eyes never leave your face - over the soft curve of your nose watching as your lips wrap tightly around it and suck.

"You are so sexy.." beautiful, round, doe eyes peer up at him as he wraps his free hand around his cock, tutting his hips into the tightness of his clasped hand.

He tucks his bottom lip between his teeth, pressing the Bulbous head onto your lips. Lips parting to your mouth and stick your tongue out. "Such a good girl. You like sucking cock huh?"

"Yes." Lips closing around the head, sucking slightly but only for a fist to pull at your hair.

"Did I tell you to suck yet?" He snarls, eyes darkening, "Are you that much of a little slut? Or pretending it's his."

The last word he hisses, curling his fingers for he gains the upper hand and feels the knots of your hair fill the gaps between fingers. "I asked you a question, sweets."

"No." The pull that burns your scalp makes you moan in pain, the reply muffled by the heaviness of his cock still lying between open lips. "Not for him, for you."

"Really? Is that why you were letting him touch you, mm?"

"I didn't know - I thought you didn't want to -."

"Didn't want you? While else would I waste my time, mm?" He kisses his teeth with words laced with venom, "Are you that much of a dumb whore to realize?"

He doesn't give you the chance to answer, “Let me tell you what's going to happen, I'm going to fuck you and you're gon’a walk right up to him with my cum running down your thighs and tell him to fuck off, you're not interested, understand beautiful?"

"Yes." With a wanton cry as a wave of heat runs through your body, a soft hand reaching down to cup the softness of your breast. In response clench your tights to create some kind of friction between your throbbing cunt.

"What a dirty girl..." He loves to see the sight, the mess he makes of your big, innocent eyes on the floor of this dirty diner, ready to be fucked like a whore. "Suck it, gorgeous."

The angry bulbous head kisses your lips as a gentle thumb roams over your hairline, "Don't be shy now."

Lips part as Bucky's smell takes over your senses - the smell of soap and chapped, warmed leather as he hits the back of your throat, nose brushing against the dark ringlets of hair. He moans softly biting down on his lower lip as a he pinches the skin of your jaw to lift you head up, "Eyes on me."

Bucky gives a small thrust, just enough to make your eyes water and to fit the rest of his hard-on into your mouth. His fingers clutch the corner of the metal table as a small groan falls from his lips watching as you bring a hand up to cup his balls, not daring to take your eyes away.

"Trying to make up for being a bad girl, huh?" he taunts with a small gasp, but you ignore his teasing and bob your head up and down with precise, slow movements.

He's growing frustrated, face flushing a deep pink color, chewing on his bottom lip but it only gets interrupted by the loud moan every time you bob your head. His fingers burn the base of your skull, throat closing around his cock as you're forced to breath out your nose, but that's even hard as wet tears stain your face and gather above your cupid's bow.

"Enough.." The words are spoken through gritted teeth as if it hurt to mutter, but you don't even get time to think about it before a hand wraps around your arm, lifting you up and muttering, "On the table, hands and knees."

Bucky groans at the sight of you, skirt pulled up to your waist, pussy high with hips in the air for him. A rough hand kneads over the flesh of your ass check, the other one comes up to spank you so hard you cry as tingles of pain mix with pleasure to send goose bumps up your back. Lips coming down to pressing a small kiss against the harsh mark as it welts with pulsing pain, "You look so pretty marked by me, gorgeous girl."

A large hand guides down your back feeling the grooves of your spine against his own fingertips until his hand reached the back of your neck and with one hard grab forces your cheek against the table. Both hands start to knead at your cheeks, brushing over your soaked entrance, a lingering heat trails where his fingers touch, across the back of your thighs, your ass. Whining softly as he speaks, "Something tells me you don't want me here, you would rather it be him."

The click of his tongue tells you he’s disappointed, panic tearing through your throat as his finger moved further from where you need him most, tears of frustration prickling eyes as his hand pushes your head deeper into the table. “No! No – please touch me. I want it, need you so bad.“ With one last crack of your voice words spewing at any effort of some type of relief. "Do whatever you want to me, I'm yours, I'm yours."

The way he tenses and throbs between your ass cheeks is delicious. Not only does he affect you but judging by the way his chest does not dare move, drawing a huff of air at the words. Suddenly there is something soft against your back, a few gentle kisses that make your heart flutter.

Before you know it, Bucky pushes you up the table to make enough room to get onto it himself, kneeling between your thighs. His left leg against your inner knee, spreading you just enough so he can fit. Arching your back against him earns a loud warning - a rumble from his chest. "You take what I give you, understand?"

"Yes, I'm sorry."

He doesn’t give any warning, the act draws your breath away at the sudden feeling of a burning but pleasurable stretching causing a small gasp to fall from your swollen lips. With one callous thrust he splits you open, nudging that spot that makes jump forward but his hand cupping over your deltoid keep you grounded.

Bucky’s finger come behind to tease the bundle of nerves, making your whine as he sinks every inch of his cock until he is nestled so deep it’s hard to breath, it burns so deliciously. Mouth falling agape, cannot even manage to form words so he speaks instead, "So good, baby."

Buck’s hands rest against the swells of your ass, eyes tilting towards the filthy sight of him snuggly pressing into you, testing the waters with one deep, slow thrust. The sound you make is straight up sinful, makes him groan on his own accord as you clench around him.

Hips snap faster watching his cock disappear and reappear into your silky opening over and over again a wave of pleasure tingling his spine every time he hits the spot that makes you dumb. He wants to comment on it but the feelings of you squeezing him with every inch it's impossible to form words, especially the sight of his cock covered in your arousal. His thighs shake until they are numb, his stomach swirling with the familiar feeling building deep inside, body on fire. With every push of his hips, strokes are strong and harsh but hit that spot every. single. time.

The sounds falling from your lips don't help, mixed between pleasure and pain. He loves every second of it, rolling his lips as your pussy drips, smearing his thighs, droplets leaking down your own. His eyes never leave your ass - bouncing against this hips with squeals of his name.

"Shit, gorgeous." It is so sexy, so effortless the way you take him. Back arching pushing him deeper inside of you to hit that spot that makes you cry as a hand rest against the small of back giving him a better angle to fuck you senseless. “Bucky, holy fuck, so goood --."

Small crescents from his nails digging into the flesh of your hip as sweat beads across his forehead and chest, a wave of heat rushing over his body as he grows closer and closer. His thrust growing disorganized and haphazard forming a new pattern that makes your toes girl and he can barely get the words out as his head clouds, "Tell me you want it."

"I want it so bad, Bucky, please, please. Fill me up." It is so sudden, your orgasm hits you blindly with white, searing pleasure that makes small black orbs form in your vision. Bucky chokes at how hard you clench around him but continues to drive his cock deep inside you, milking you for all you have.

With the last of his trust he explodes, his cum lines your walls, filling you to the brink and stuffing you full. There's so much of it, it drips onto the table leaking between the both of you, but he doesn't dare move only peers down at you with those pretty blue eyes.

Sagging into the table and completely spent as a soft hand rubs your hair, fingers lovingly running across your hairline. He presses a kiss to your forehead, one against your cheek before cupping where his lips touched, angling your face to his own to press a soft kiss against your lips. With one last kiss to your nose, he helps put your arms back through the sleeves of your stress, sighing softly against your skin, "You okay?"

"Mmm." You agree, eyes shutting gently but only lean forward to press a kiss to his lips. "I'm yours, Buck."

"Yes, you are, honey." He promises and slides out of you with a hiss but that does not stop his eyes from dipping between your legs, smirking as you instinctually spread them, revealing the beautiful sight of him leaking from you. Two large fingers roam over the hood of your pussy, rubbing the folds before they split you open again. The sound that follows is filthy and he hums in response.

Those same fingers now prod against your lips, parting them open until the salty, blank taste invades your mouth.

"I want you stuffed in every hole, I want you smelling like me before you tell that asshole." You watch wide eyed and blank as he pulls up his pants and tucks himself back in. Pressing one more kiss to your lips before picking the panties off the ground shoving them into his pocket.

"Baby, I need those -."

"You didn't think I was serious huh?" Bucky chuckles darkly, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. "Oh, you're gonna tell him and everyone in this diner is going to know you're mine."

tags: @kpopgirlbtssvt, @slytherdorxmd, @sugarpunch-princess, @old-enough-to-know-better73, @maxsaturdayhatesnarwhals, @Fajitasandfics, @devilswaldorf, @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123, @grubler, @SodDy030, @agent-catfish-kenobi,@scarletglowss, @abitchforbarnes, @xxlovingfandomsxx, @jewishdelis, @klorpski, @kaitieskidmore1, @peterpstuff, @akaaaaashiiii, @angelsandsorcery, @moony-is-bae, @yliumy, @watermelonsponge, @stolenxkissess, @peakascum, @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme, @crvecem, @likealadygodiva, @harrysthiccthighss, @burnerbitchh, @sergeantjamesbbarnes, @amelia-song-pond, , @Jallen0126

[themanip]

late nights

SUMMARY — you and bang chan are both equally as stressed out. your solution?  sleep with each other. boom, problem solved.

PAIRING — bang chan  x  reader  WARNINGS — mentions of stress and mental health problems, unprotected sex, soft!dom chan, mentions of kinks, really soft, really cute smut basically, crying (not sexually), sad thoughts, angry and frustrated emotions, angsty GENRE — heavy angst, fwb, coming-of-age kind of, smut, romance, porn with a hint of plot WORD COUNT — 4.9k, i got carried away my bad

“How do you deal with stress?”

Chan’s question wasn’t ill intentioned by any means, and as you both sat in his studio, you pondered on whether or not to actually answer truthfully. “I mean, you’re the leader of two more trainees than I was, and navigating as a girlgroup is much more difficult than boygroups,”

“Do you want the honest answer, or the more appropriate answer?” you crossed your legs, Chan’s couch feeling quite comfortable. He stared down at you for a moment, the height of his chair offering him that leverage.

The room was quiet, the lights were dim, and the entire environment was soothing. “Well, honest, of course. No point in me asking if it’s a fib, no?”

You nodded, blowing a puff of air out of your nose thoughtfully. “Truthfully, I use sex. It allows me to physically and mentally drain myself, and I sleep really well after getting fucked. It allows me to refresh the next morning, and my stress, at least physically, is diminished.”

You didn’t look at him until you finished talking, and his face was blank. Once you two locked eyes, he sputtered out, “Oh, I—”

“This is why I offered two options, Chan,” you laughed, and at the lighten of atmosphere he giggled a bit too. “I didn’t mean to, y’know,” he stopped, and you nodded lightly. “I get it, but as of now I don’t do it much anymore. I usually just let out my anger or stress during dance routines or working out but it doesn’t work the same, and sometimes I deliver moves too harshly while dancing.”

“Why not?”

You were unsure what he was referring to, and you crinkled your eyebrows. “How come you don’t do it anymore if nothing else helps the same way?” he asked softly, his eyes swimming with genuine concern. 

“I’m a lot more conservative with my body, I just have to trust someone. It’s hard to get to know a guy without them immediately wanting to jump into a relationship. You can’t really do that in what we do, and the second I start to trust a guy things go haywire. I just really have to have a good friendship to have sex, I guess.”

The entirety of the conversation, Chan’s cheeks were turning peach. Even in the dark, dim light, you could see it. “I understand, it’s a very tangible thing. Just giving yourself to someone like that without a basic relationship, platonic or not, is important depending on how you view relationships,”

You nodded in response, and a silence fell over you two. There wasn’t much to be said, but for some reason you decided to blurt out. “If you don’t know how to deplete stress, I suggest it. Just the no strings attached part, because otherwise things get messy and stress becomes inevitable. Just try it sometime, Chan. If you don’t like it, then consider it a learning experience,” you shrugged, and Chan pursed his lips.

“I mean it doesn’t sound like a bad idea, per se. I just don’t know how I’ll casually ask someone to have sex. Most women just run off the moment I mention it, and who knows if they’re even into the same things I am? There’s just so many things to be unsure of.” His chin was now laying on his thumb, and his pointer finger was laying above his top lip. He was deep in thought. 

You stood up, which cause Chan to unexpectedly flinch, and he watched you with careful eyes. “Chris, if you ever feel like you need a de-stresser, you know where to find me. Nothing will be weird unless you make it weird. Or we can always just talk, either way, I’m here. I have to go before Sumna comes and drags me out of here, but seriously. Whatever you need, no strings attached. Nothing leaves this room,” you mentioned softly, and his eyes widened at his English name. It’s rather rare you used it, so he pondered the specific use of it in this scenario.

“Thank you,” he muttered simply, and he watched you as you walked out. Was she being serious?

Chan and you had not talked in a few days. Whether it was a crazy schedule, you embarassing yourself, or him not knowing how to approach the situation, you didn’t know. All you did know was that you missed your friend. 

You and your bandmates had a hectic schedule today, and as the leader, you’d had to sit in on a meeting with your manager and JYP’s public relations manager. Apparently, Dispatch had caught one of your members, Lanzi, out doing something with another k-pop idol. Dispatch had only obtained two pictures of it, but it was clearly legible on who they were, and what they were doing.

The cost to get those pictures thrown out was much more than JYP would have liked, so she had to sit and get chewed out. Instead of being angry at Lanzi, she became more angry at herself. She had talked to them about things of this sort, but clearly not well enough. It was her job as leader, and she failed doing so. 

After a three hour long meeting, you were absolutely exhausted, mentally at least. And now, just after that, was choreography practice. You’d just learned the choreo a few days before, so for the most part you had it down. As lead dancer, you also had to make sure everyone else in your group understood that too. 

So, thirty minutes into practice, when none of your members seemed to be latching on, you sighed. Your entire job was to simply lead, and do well. Somehow, you couldn’t manage to do that. Once more, you started the choreography, and told your girls to simply stand back and watch.

You had a slight tone, but you needed them to understand that rhythm is just as important as the real dance moves. Your entire body was covered in sweat, and you were growing more frustrated by the minute. 

The way your body moved was no longer elegant, just harsh, angry strokes of somewhat rhythmic actions. You did your best to do it just as you were shown, but the overwhelming anger and emotion in your body was just more than you could handle. 

Little did you know, next to your bandmates, stood Hyunjin and Chan. They had come to ask something, but instead found you dancing your angered heart out. All stopped and stared, and Chan could only focus on the way your hips contorted, the patterns your hips followed.

As the music stopped, you turned around, and your eyes widened at the visitors. 

“We can leave if you’re busy, Hyunjin-ah just wanted to ask if he could borrow the studio tomorrow, and I wanted a word with you, if that’s okay,” Chan asked, and all of your bandmates went silent, expecting you to take the lead of the conversation.

“Hyunjin-sunbaenim, the studio is yours whenever you need it. Let me know what time, and Chan-oppa, would you like to talk now?”

Hyunjin bowed, and gave a quick thank you before heading out of the room. “Yes, please. If you’re too busy, no worries,” and you looked at your girls and told them to head back to the dorm. You were done for today, no reason to beat a dead horse when clearly today was not a good one to get skills in. 

“Can we talk in my studio?” Chan came closer to you, almost a whisper, and you knew this was going to go one of two ways: he was going to fuck your brains out, or he was going to let you know that he did not think of you in that way, and to please never discuss things like that with him again. You don’t think you could handle either, at least not today. 

“Yeah, let me grab some other clothes,” you said softly, rubbing your forehead in anxiety. Chan quickly started to mention something, and you shut him up quick. “I don’t—”

“Chan, I’m getting new clothes because I am sweaty and tired, nothing else. I will meet you in your studio after I am changed,” you sighed, your hot knees feeling good against the cool floor of the choreography studio. Your duffle bag now wide open, you grabbed an oversized long sleeve shirt and a pair of loose jeans. 

You also reapplied deodorant and some perfume so you didn’t smell like you lived in a sewer, the amount

As your girls were long gone, you felt free to change in the studio. Your clothes quickly fell to the floor, and you were now in more comfortable apparel that is not drenched in sweat. Dreading this conversation with Chan, you swiftly collected your things and moved them to the corner to come collect after you spoke to Chan and was ready to go home. 

Guiding your way to Chan’s studio was a walk in the park. The amount of times you’d go in there to talk to him, or for him to let you hear what he’d been working on, was countless. You two had budded a beautiful friendship, and he had been somewhat of a rock. He had always been so sweet, so loving. And you’ve possibly ruined it because you couldn’t think of anything other than sex when trying to guide him through dealing with stress.

Your eyes almost welled at the thought. You couldn’t cry though, not now. So, as you stood outside of Chan’s recording studio, you held your breath for a moment and looked up, letting the tears vanish.

A soft knock sounded, your knuckles rasping at the door. The hallways were silent, and you couldn’t hear a single thing from inside Chan’s studio. Your own heartbeat pounded in your ears, and you tensed as you heard footsteps leading up to his door.

He opened the door, his face showing no clear emotions. He didn’t seem angry, but he wasn’t too happy to see you, either. His hair was clearly ran through by his hand, blonde tufts falling back towards his ears. His makeup was done to perfection, light brown tones covering his lids. 

He wore a simple outfit, a loose black hoodie and dark blue sweatpants. He’d changed from earlier, his black ripped jeans now nowhere to be seen. “Come in, you can sit anywhere,” his voice was always soft, even though he could be fuming, his tone would never soar. 

“Chan, I just want to say I’m sorry,” you muffled out, plopping down unconventionally on his couch. “I just, I don’t know why I said those things or did that,” at this point, you just didn’t want him to think differently of you. He was the closest thing you had to a mentor, and he was an amazing friend. 

If you lost him, or ruined your relationship, you don’t think you could ever forgive yourself. 

You pulled your knees up to your chest as he took a seat in his chair, staring expectedly at you. Silence followed, so you continued, unsure of what he was expecting to hear. “I just don’t like you being stressed, and the only way I know how to cope with things is kind of like that, so I figured maybe you could too, and then I offered, and I feel like I just fucked things up between us. I.. just I’m so sorry.”

At this point your eyes had clouded up, and your voice had cracked multiple times. The day you’d had just piled up, and your exhaustion was visible. Chan’s eyes immediately softened, and he felt bad. He wasn’t mad, he just didn’t know how to approach the situation. 

“Hey, hey,” he soothed, and he stood up from his chair and joined you on the couch. At this point, you’d started full on crying. “I ruined our friendship, and now I’m sitting here crying so you’re gonna feel too bad to be honest with me about what I did wrong,” you were now sniffling hard, and your chest was dense you were surprised you could breathe. 

“No, love, that’s not it, I promise,” your heart pumped blood a bit harder at his nickname for you, and he placed a warm hand on your back. “I came here to ask if you were okay,” his tone was now nothing but soft and supportive, and he continuously rubbed your back. Warmth spread throughout your entire body. 

“I heard about the meeting, and everyone kept discussing how stressed out you were today,” in the dim light once more, his eyes glowed. They were so soft, so sweet. His entire aura was just warm, loving, and nothing was more assuring. 

“No matter what happens between us, you’re my friend, and I care about you,” he smiled softly, “Nothing would change that, unless you like, stabbed me or something,” he laughed soulfully, and you laughed with him. He pulled you closer to him, your head now leaning on his shoulder.

“Thank you, Chan. I just didn’t know what to do, and today has been really shitty,” you smiled, and let your head fall even closer to his chest. His thumbs ran circles around your back, and he held you close. “It’s okay, I understand. Trust me,” a warm silence encased the entire room, and as Chan now cuddled you warmly, your face was now red at the reality of the situation.

“Do you feel a bit better?”

“Yeah, I just needed someone to remind me of how things are and to keep me grounded,” you sighed, and Chan’s thumb was now no longer rubbing your back. His hand had stilled, and all you could hear was the heartbeat from inside Chan’s chest. He was so broad, and the expanse of his torso provided a very comfortable pillow.

“I wasn’t offended, or taken back or anything when you offered, you know that, right?” Chan spoke out of nowhere, the rumbling of his chest vibrating intensely. “I wouldn’t have known, I tried my best to ignore you in case you never wanted to speak to me again,”

A small laugh came out of Chan, and his chest pushed your head a bit. “No, in fact, I think I’ve thought about it a little too much.”

You pushed your head off of him at this point, and resuming your position before he sat on the couch. You pulled your knees back up to your chest, and looked at him. “Really?”

“You said you wanted to have sex with someone you trust, and I feel the same way. It’s really hard to come by good people with good intentions, and you also happen to be beyond gorgeous. Why would I not want to?”

With cheeks now flushed red, you giggled. School-girl giggled, specifically. You had no idea how to take this compliment, but then the realization hit you. Christopher Bang just said he wants to fuck you.

His face also turned a deep scarlet, and he looked down, waiting for a reaction. “Mr. Bang, the things you say. So scandalous,” you both laughed lightly, and you hummed in response to the silence. “If we decide to ever do something, it’s important we talk about it first,” you mentioned, and now the conversation went from light-hearted to a bit more serious.

 “Of course, but in what way?”

“I don’t know, what kinds of things do you like? I can’t promise I can pertain to everything, but there’s no harm in trying. Especially if it happens more than once,” you clutched your legs, and Chan leaned forward a bit, his elbows on his knees as he stared ahead.

“Uh, well,” he laughed, and covered his hands with his face. This was the Chan you liked, who could make any situation, no matter how dark, seem light and easy-going. “It’s not really,” he started, beginning to look at you, then stopping himself, “I don’t know. I never usually talk about it like this,”

“Well, how about this: I tell you what I like, and you tell me what you’re willing to do. Just because I like it does not mean you have to do it, but if you enjoy it too, its mutual pleasure, yeah?”

Chan simply nodded, now mesmerized by you. His face completely tracked yours, and you sighed. “I have always loved your hands. I really, really like if you’d put them around my neck, if you would ever feel so kind. I really love being praised, I love being called a good girl, things like that. My favorite foreplay is just making out, I’m just a big softie, but I can take rough if that’s what you like. I’m a big pleaser, and I want to make sure you’re taken care of and get some pleasure out of this,”

Chan nodded once more, and his fingers instinctively wrapped themselves around his rings, twisting and turning. “Your turn, Channie,” you smirked, and he leaned back, a smile crowning his face. 

“Well, I really like being soft and intimate, I like any position, bonus points if I see your face,” he smiled, his cheeks burning scarlet. He clearly did not talk about these things often, moreso just played them out in the midst of a high and never spoke of it again. But he and you both knew how important communication was, so he continued.

“I have played around with being called Daddy, but I’m not sure, and if you’re not comfortable with it—”

“If I am that uncomfortable with something, I promise I’ll tell you. Besides, that’s really cute. Rolls right off the tongue, right Daddy?”

He visibily shivered, and you smiled. “I—uh, I like if you’d run your fingers through my hair, not too hard, but like soothingly, kind of? If that makes sense. I also like it if you’d verbalise when you’re, uh—”

You knew where he was going, so you leaned close to his ear and finished his sentence for him. “Gonna cum? Oh, it would be rude not to,” you laughed gently, and you saw the last of Chan’s patience snap like a rubber band. 

His hands grabbed your face sternly, yet somehow gently. “Do you want this?” he asked, the lust obvious on his face. Despite any previous conversation, he needed verbal consent to continue, and it would make him feel most okay with doing this. 

“Yes,”

The room was now silent, anticipation filling your entire body. You’d come in here crying, and you couldn’t help but hope you’d leave the same way; just a different type of crying. 

He pushed you so your back was now flush against the couch, the headrest leaning your upper torso closer to him. “Tell me to stop, and I promise I will, alright? The second you tell me to,” he was now looking you dead in the eyes, above you. Your legs were spread open, and his entire body was in the valley of your abdomen. Both of his arms were on either side of you, perching himself up. 

“Chris, just kiss me already,” you whined, and he laughed wholeheartedly, before dipping in. The first kiss was hesitant, exploring new territory. His lips tasted like vanilla chapstick, and the first few were light pecks. It took only a second before he took the initiative and added his tongue to the mixture. 

You rarely ever used tongue, most of your hookups barely even kissed, which is why none of them compared. Kissing was your weak point, it was a vulnerability. And Chan did not abuse that power once.

“Is this okay?” he mumbled against your mouth, your exchanging saliva now making more than your mouth lubricated. “Fuck, yes,” you moaned out, the amount of times he would kiss you now making you weak.

His hands dragged softly, and held themselves at your jaw, a classic sweetheart. His thumb was against your cheek so softly, the pads gracefully rubbing across the expanse of your cheekbone.

Everything about this was so domestic, so warm. His kisses were so soft, and full of love. There was no rush, no push to go any farther had you or him decided not to. His warm hands on your face made you purr on the inside, and when he pulled away, he had looked more beautiful than ever. 

You had no intention of mentioning the wetness that had gathered between your legs, until Chan was staring at you, and momentarily his eyes widened. “Shit,” he cursed, looking around rapidly. “We don’t have a condom. I’m clean and everything, but we don’t have to continue if you don’t feel comfortable,”

“I have an implant, and I’m clean too. I just want you, if you want me too.”

Chan had no other qualms about it, and he attacked your face in sloppy kisses. “Here, can we switch positions, my arm is hurting?” he asked awkwardly, and you laughed with your entire chest. It was a normal question, but the way he asked so ashamedly, as if it was something terrible. 

“Sit up straight, let me get on your lap,” you said softly, and he did as he was told. It was only then that you saw the bulge in his sweatpants, and you forgot that he actually had a male appendage, and from the looks of it, he was either girthy or long. Or both. 

As long as he knew how to use it, you’d be fine. 

He grabbed you by your hand to help maneuver you, and now your entire weight was on top of Chan. As you finally sat your hips down, he groaned. “Oh god,”

You took his face in your hands, and started kissing him again. At this point, you didn’t want him to be respectful anymore. His hands did not waver from your face, and so you took it into your own hands. Grabbing them both, so soft and calloused, and placed them as discreetly as you could, onto your hips. Moreso your ass, but Chan didn’t know your intentions. 

His hands pushed your hips forward, now rutting against his hard on. His lips and yours were now in a frenzy, drenching each other. It was still pretty slow, nothing fast paced, just more intense.

He broke the kiss, and his hands now edged at the bottom of your shirt. “Can I take this off?” he asked, breathless. His lips were now swollen and puffy, and his pupils were blown wide. 

You nodded softly, no words needed to be said. He quickly hauled the oversize shirt above your head, and groaned harshly when he realized you had no bra on. His first instinct was to latch his mouth onto your nipples, sucking softly. A moan left your mouth, and with nothing to hold onto anymore, your hands found his hair. 

Still rocking back and forth, your panties were probably soaked at that point. So much foreplay had you almost throbbing, and you couldn’t wait much longer to have him inside you. 

“Chan, please,” you moaned out, and he bit down on your nipple gently. “Only since you asked so nicely,” he added, and he told you to stand up. You did so, easily willingly, yet you loved the way he spoke to you.

It was almost a request, a plea. There was no power imbalance here, simply one trying to find another. He was so gentle, in everything he did. You wanted to drown in that feeling. 

He pulled your jeans off without a hitch, and eyed your lace panties hungrily, slightly thankful you’d changed earlier this evening. His fingers grasped the sides, pulling them down your legs. You were now completely bare, and he was fully dressed. This was a problem. 

“Not fair, your turn,” you pouted, and his eyes were fixated on your naked body. It felt odd, having him see you like this, but you couldn’t complain. Your arousal was now tainting your inner thighs, and Chan could probably see it too. 

He rid himself of his hoodie and his shirt at the same time, and you finally got a full view of him shirtless. This man was absolutely ripped, and you had to hold in a gasp. His arms were lined in protruding veins, and his abs were impeccable. You worked out, but not in your wildest dreams would you ever be able to maintain that nice of a physique. 

It wasn’t until he pulled off his pants, and painstakingly after, he patiently pulled his boxers off. God, did he have a pretty cock. A bit longer than average, slightly girthy, and it made your mouth water just thinking about it. 

Your first instinct was to pop down onto your knees, but as you were on your way down, Chan grabbed you by the arm. “Not this time, please, I need you,” he whined out, almost painfully. 

As you were on top of his lap, you were careful not to let him inside you yet. You figured he could decide when to do it, and you squealed when he let one hand slide from your face, down to your throat. His fingers, covered in rings, squeezed gently. He coaxed another moan from you as he let his fingers glide down the valley of your body, and found itself on your clit.

His movements were slow, but intense. His fingers glided over your folds, picking up some of your arousal, and placed all of his attention onto your little nub. Small pinprick moans escaped your mouth, and you began to tilt your hips in an attempt to get more friction. “Fuck, you’re so wet,”

Some noise semblant to a mew tried to leave your mouth, but his fingers tangled themselves around your neck further, leaving the sound trapped in your throat. “Are you ready? Or do we need to get you a bit more warmed up?” he asked softly, his mouth now next to you ear. His voice was dark, and husky.

“God, I just need you inside me,” you whined, and his hand let up on your neck, and he grabbed his cock harshly. He pumped it a few times, and spread your lips, and lined you up.

“Beg,” he said simply, and even if you tried to sink down, he now placed a hand on top of your hips harshly. You couldn’t move even if you wanted to. “W—what?” you asked, breathless. 

“Beg, I want to hear you beg for me to fuck you,” he repeated himself, and looked down at you mischeviously. You two were face to face, and his cock was still in his hands, and your lips spread wide open for him to see. “Fuck, please,” you whined, and to no avail, he didn’t budge, “please, daddy, I just wanna feel good,”

As soon as the name sounded from your mouth, he pushed inside of you. The stretch was amazing, it was slightly painful, but it felt like nothing on this earth could amount. His entire cock filled you out nicely, and the lewd sound of him smacking against you was filling the room.

His hands laid at your hips now, piling into you like his life depended on it. His balls were smacking against your ass, and the harsh thrusts stimulated your clit. Everything was so intense, the way he filled you so deeply, you could feel him in places you didn’t know he could reach, and you felt like you’d burst apart the seams. 

Shameless moans spilled from your mouth, and Chan was in your ear, grunting like a man starved. “Such a good girl, fuck, for me,” his groans were so animalistic, and the way his hands would hold you steady.

His fingers traveled down to toy with your clit, and he never stopped fucking you. Your fingers started to tangle within his hair, and his lips attached themselves to your neck, sucking, finding anything to latch onto. 

The second his fingers started rubbing your clit numbly, you knew that you were going to cum soon. Everything he did just felt so good, you were just a hole the second he started fucking you.

“I—I’m gonna, I’m gonna cum,” you breathed out heavily, and your legs started shaking. “Please, can I—please cum?”

“Yes, cum for me,” he breathed out in a husky tone, and it wasn’t long until you felt your thighs start to involuntarily shake, and the feeling inside your abdomen welling up. “I’m so—” you were cut off by your orgasm rushing over you, Chan’s fingers never stopped stimulating your clit.

You moaned out harshly, slumping towards him, unable to control yourself as one of the most harsh orgasms you’ve ever had washed over you. Your entire body started to seize, and you clenched around him harshly. He continued to fuck into you, sucking into your neck, and he starting fucking into you faster. He was definitely close, “Where-”

You cut him off, still under the shock of your orgasm, “inside me, please,” you begged, and he fucked into you once more, even harder. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum,”

He lived up to his promise, as less than a few seconds later, his warm cum spurted inside of you, and he still rutted his hips, begging for more friction. He stroked into you a few more times, now drained of energy. He placed a soft kiss onto your neck, and whispered, “Thank you.”

You got up, and put your shirt back on over yourself, and Chan pulled his boxers and sweatpants on once more. A thought rose over you on whether to leave or not, but you knew Chan would be a skinship type of guy. He would probably have a drop, and not be used to just casual hookups like this.

“Do you want me to stay?” you asked softly, and a large part of you hoped he would say yes.

“Please.”

[halstudandruz]

Research Purposes ~ Part 2

*Not my gif*

Pairing: Jay x Reader

Requested: Yes

Prompt: What happens when the only person in the world you didn’t want finding out does?

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: Part one found here (NSFW, 18+)

A/N 2: Also thank you to @enchantedblackrose for the idea 😊

If you are not 18+ and are unable to read part 1 and want to back story just hit me up (:

“We’re so freaking late. There’s no way we’ll have time to stop for my car.” You rushed around Jay’s apartment, pouring coffee for both of you.

“And whose fault is that.” Jay looked at you accusingly.

“I was just trying to help the environment.” You shrugged, handing him his cup after checking the lid.

“You and I both know we wasted more water in there together than we would’ve showering on our own.” He retorted grabbing his badge and gun off the coffee table to secure them to his belt.

“Yeah okay so I wanted shower sex sue me.” You rolled your eyes shrugging your jacket on.

“I wasn’t the one complaining.” He smiled, taking a drink.

“We would’ve had more than enough time if you didn’t insist on cuddling this morning.” You pointed out, remembering how he pulled you back into his chest every time you tried to move out of bed a couple hours prior.

“You like shower sex. I like cuddling.” He teased handing you your purse.

“Maybe we can draft up an alternate schedule.” You joked.

“I do hear compromise is the key to a healthy relationship.” He replied.

“We gotta go if you don’t want to get pulled over for speeding.” You changed the subject reaching for the door knob, before being tugged back by your arm, turning in time for Jay’s lips to meet yours in a sweet, passionate kiss.

“To get us both through the day.” Jay winked reaching around you to open the door and usher you out.

This was the second time that week you and Jay would be showing up to work together. Nobody noticed it the first time, but your anxiety climbed at the thought of someone recognizing and approaching you about it. What would you say? You and Jay were only in it purely for the sex. Right? Regardless of that fact that you had stayed at his house almost every night the past couple weeks even without the promise of sex, or how your stuff was starting to accumulate at his house from the past few months. A few t-shirts mixed in with his, hair straightener resting on his bathroom organizer, makeup scattered about on the dresser. Friends with benefits, that’s all it was. Nothing more and you certainly were not gaining feelings for him. Absolutely not that was against the rules and you were not about to be some stereotypical fuck buddy turned feelings trope, but you were getting sloppy apparently. You agreed to enter through the front while Jay entered through the back. Skipping up the steps you threw a smile at Trudy offering her a good morning, but in return she stared you down, eyebrow raised as she rested against the desk.

“What?” You stopped in your tracks in front of her. But she stayed silent giving you a look, and you just knew she knew. She was Trudy Platt. She knew everything.

“You should tell him.” She whispered to you, and it’s not the first time she had said something of the sort recently.

“Tell who, what?” You continued to fake innocence as you had the times before.

“It’s going to end badly.” She pushed again.

“It already did end badly.” You reminded her before trudging upstairs feeling the heat of her stare still on your back. Everyone except Kim was already there, including Jay who had his feet kicked up on his desk looking through a file. You greeted everyone draping your coat over the back of your chair and falling into it.

The first hour ticked by slowly, and you found your eyes moving across the room to focus on Jay. Opened documents lay across your desk. He looked so relaxed, shoulders loose, breaths slow and even, head resting against his palm as he fought not to fall asleep. You knew he would rather be out chasing suspects, but deep down you were starting to register you were okay with paperwork days. It meant he was safe, and that thought scared you a little. The last time you had those same thoughts you were staring at a different man in the room. A man who sat not too far behind Jay, clicking his pen absentmindedly as he often did when he was bored.

“Ruz, I’ll break the damn pen.” Kevin grumbled, as he had many times before in response to the habit.

“Sorry.” Adam mumbled, setting the utensil onto his desk away from his fidgety hands.

You chuckled at the small exchange, experiencing the exact same one many times in the years you had been detailed in intelligence with the best people you could’ve ever asked to work with. That certainly didn’t mean it wasn’t complicated though, and you were the very obvious example of that. You watched Jay’s head bob catching himself before adjusting in order to keep himself awake. His eyes accidentally met yours, heart rate immediately increasing. He sent you a small smile as his eyes started to roam over your body. Looking for a distraction from the tedious work. You couldn’t scold him. It wasn’t like you hadn’t been doing the same thing the past 10 minutes. Looking at his arms that were tight against his sleeves you wondered if the scratch marks you left on his biceps this morning would still be prevalent, or if the fading hickey from nights prior was still noticeable on his hip bone.

“I need coffee. Anyone else?” You asked trying to divert the obvious eye fucking your were giving each other. Everyone in the room raising their hands. You laughed taking notice of all the tired eyes who so obviously wanted to bash their heads off the desk already bored out of their minds, just waiting for a case to jump off.

“I’ll help.” Jay offered, voice gruff from barely speaking all morning. Together you poured and distributed everyone cups. Sitting back down into your chair when Jay was handing Kev his.

“You gonna shave that thing anytime soon? You usually can’t stand it past a week.” Kevin asked Jay, referring to his beard. They had always teased him whenever he claimed it grew in patchy compared to Adam and Kevin’s and it usually resulted in him having a clean shaven face the next shift. But it had grown in quite nicely this time, and he made sure to keep it presentable by trimming it as needed.

“No, it’s starting to grow on me. I’m keeping it for research anyway. Seems it can enhance far more than just my facial features.” Jay shrugged casually sitting back down atin his chair, and at his words you choked on your coffee spitting it all over your desk. Uncontrollable coughs tickling your throat.

“You good [Y/L/N]?” Hailey asked standing up to help you.

“Yeah..sorry. Just.. went down the wrong pipe. Didn’t expect it to be so.. hot.” You explained between coughs looking across the room to glare at Jay who wore a cocky smirk on his face, flipping through papers not daring to look up at you.

“You forget your ice?” Adam asked, knowing you had put a couple cubes of ice in your coffee every morning cooling it down so you could drink it faster.

“I must’ve. Kinda out of it today.” You shook your head taking napkins out of your drawer to try to clean up the mess you had made on your desk as well as your white shirt.

“I’ll get you some.” He started to walk towards the break room.

“It’s really okay I spit most of it out anyway.” You laughed.

“I’ll just get you a new cup.” He reasoned and you just thanked him not feeling like bickering with him about it. He had been going out of his way to do nice things for you recently. You assumed either so you wouldn’t spill the beans about him and Upton or because he felt bad.

“There’s no way this is coming out..” You grumbled dabbing at the tan stain forming on your shirt, “Do you happen to have a spare?” You asked, turning towards Hailey.

“I’m sorry I don’t. I used my spare the other day after that shooting and haven’t brought another extra.” Hailey apologized. You waved her off thanking her anyway.

“There’s one in my locker.” Jay offered, “You’ll probably just have to tuck it in.” You thought for a moment, it probably wouldn’t look like a big deal. Just a friend helping out a friend.

“Okay. Thanks.” You nodded getting up to head to the locker room where Jay followed. “I know where your locker is.” You rolled your eyes.

“Yes, but you don’t know my combination nor are you very good at opening dial locks. Hence why you have a keypad one on yours.” Jay pointed out, spinning his combination. He was right. You could never open dial locks.

“Do you analyze everything I do?” You crossed your arms annoyed at how well he always seemed to know you.

“You’re an interesting person babe.” He smiled handing you the shirt as he kissed your forehead.

“Watch yourself. You don’t know who’s hiding in here.” You lectured, “this is your fault by the way.”

“I know. Total win-win situation.” Jay laughed, smiling brightly.

“You’re gonna be the death of me Jay Halstead.” You groaned, a small smile on your lips.

“What a way to go though, huh?” He quipped, giving you a quick kiss.

“Get out.” You pushed his chest.

“What? No free peep show? I offered you my shirt and everything.” He acted offended.

“They’re gonna start getting suspicious if we are in here any longer go.” He huffed at your reply giving in and leaving as you turned around to switch shirts. Jay’s scent immediately overwhelmed you as you slipped his shirt on. Causing your body to relax in turn at the familiar fragrance. Jay was right, you had to tuck the shirt into your jeans, otherwise it could’ve been a dress thanks to your large height difference. Turning to walk out of the locker room, you were met with Adam holding a new cup of coffee out to you making you jump at the unexpected body in your path. “Thank you.” You giggled taking it from his hand to take a drink.

“Did you change?” He asked, eyeing the shirt you now wore.

“Oh yeah. I had white on and it was gonna stain so Jay offered me his shirt.” You explained, shifting on your feet at the uncomfortable conversation.

“Well I have one. It might fit you better.” He offered moving to walk towards his locker, but you put a hand to his chest stopping him.

“I’m good this one is perfectly fine.” You reassured him, Adam stared at you, breaking the tense silence with a long sigh, leaning against the side of the lockers.

“Listen we never got to talk about that night you came to my apartment. I just wanted to say I’m really sorry you-“ He began to apologize when Kevin peeked his head in the door.

“Hey, I’m sorry to interrupt..” he looked between the two of you awkwardly, “but we just got a case.” Adam cleared his throat as you nodded,

“We can..finish this later.” You chewed on your lip pushing past him to grab your coat out of Kevin’s hand.

It was nearing 8 o’clock by the time Voight had given you guys permission to go home and get some sleep. Knowing you’d be returning bright and early in the morning to continue to case.

“What do you think about pizza tonight? I’ve been craving some Bartolis.” Jay asked walking down the stairs behind you.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” You stopped turning to face him when you rounded the corner out of sight.

“Well I can just get pizza and I’ll stop for whatever else you want too.” He offered.

“I’m not talking about food, Jay.” You laughed, looking at the ground. Your mind had been racing since showing up with Jay this morning.

“Then..what are you talking about?” He asked, stepping closer towards you.

“I mean I don’t know I’ve been at your place almost every night the last couple weeks.” You whispered, hoping your voice wouldn’t carry to anyone nearby.

“Well we can go to your place. That’s fine.” He reasoned.

“No that’s not..” You sighed not able to find the words.

“Hey, just talk to me. What’s up.” He encouraged hands falling to your hips holding you gently.

“I’m just worried we’re starting to get careless. Showing up to work twice in one week together. One of these days we’re bound to get caught either coming in together or showing up on scene together. We don’t even know what this is. I don’t want to have to talk to Voight about it in the meantime.” You explained.

“We can be more careful. I promise. I just don’t want you to freak out about this.” He assured you tucking your hair behind your ear. “Can we just address how good you look in my shirt. I’m so glad you’re such a klutz..” Jay’s eyes roamed up and down your body.

“I am not a klutz! How did you expect me to react?” You crossed your arms, glaring at him as you did a few hours prior.

“Well is it not the truth? This thing is still on my face purely for your satisfaction.” He reminded you by trailing his lips down your neck, immediately summoning goosebumps from the raggedness tickling in the wake of his lips. He winked knowing his point was proven, moving up to place a soft kiss on your lips. “Sooo pizza?” He asked, pulling back, hopeful look on his face.

“Fine, but I’m not going in to get it.” You rolled your eyes, a bright smile on your face when he wrapped an arm around your shoulders pulling you towards his truck but when you rounded the corner your eyes connected with Adam’s who stood near the door, eyes wide between you two as Jay let his arm fall to his side, your feet rooted to the floor.

“I forgot my wallet in my locker.” Adam explained stammering over his words.

“Well don’t let us keep you. See you tomorrow brother.” Jay remained calm grabbing your arm to pull you out. Patting Adam on the shoulder when you passed.

“Shit!” You cursed when you reached Jay’s truck.

“What?” He questioned and you looked at him dumbfounded.

“You’re fucking kidding me right?” You scoffed.

“He’s not gonna tell Voight. For starters it’s Adam. Plus we know about him and Hailey. He can’t.” He shrugged.

“That’s not what I’m worried about!” You yelled.

“You just said that’s what you were worried about.” Jay reminded you, trying to catch up. “Babe.” He urged when you didn’t answer him.

“You don’t get it Jay!” You shook your head, lump forming in your throat at the anxiety the situation presented.

“No, you’re right I don’t. I’m sorry. Help me understand.” He grabbed a hold of your hand trying to get you to face him.

“Not right now.” You chewed your lip feeling a few tears fall down your cheeks, quickly swiping them away before they were seen, but you knew Jay would know regardless. You were tired, hungry, and now slightly panicking at the thought of having to address the entire situation. His hand squeezed yours tighter before starting his truck putting it in drive.

All Tag List:

@corebore123 @scarletsoldierrr @hehurst23 @beautiful-bunny89 @ingie @halsteadsway @malrunaway @grettiwrites @inlovewith3

Jay Taglist:

@jayxhalsteadx @life-treatments @weepingfestivalmentality @toomuchtv95 @queen-of-arda

[dreamyjoons]

Our ‘Get Along’ Shirt - pjm

⇢ another day, another endless round of you and Jimin bickering. It’s never ending, all-consuming, and your friends have had enough. Namjoon decides to end it once and for all - with help from a shirt for squabbling toddlers.

Genre/warnings: smut, 18+! ‘enemies’-to-lovers, swearing, semi-public smut, mutual masturbation, fingering, honestly at this point a sweat kink, multiple orgasms, light choking, some spitting, unprotected sex, creampie.

Words: 14.2k lol

A/N: well hello! I’m back baby, and to celebrate i had to exorcise some Jimin demons. Did i talk about him sweating a lot? Yes. Did i use my favourite pic of him for the header? Also yes. Don’t @ me, i already know. I hope you enjoy!!!

"You're so wrong about this, it's actually kind of embarrassing."

"No you're wrong, only an idiot would think the way you do."

"Guys, no one - and I really mean this - no one cares about what kind of cups you need for beer pong. You've been arguing this for like twenty minutes now." Hoseok huffs, sitting back into the couch.

"Eighteen minutes." Namjoon sighs, tipping back his cup and gulping down its contents.

"But solo cups are far superior-"

"Jimin, they aren't!" You snap, dragging your glare away from his rolling eyes, deciding you never wanna look at him ever again.

"Please stop." Jungkook sighs, slipping off the chair beside Hoseok. His eyes flick between you before scanning the rest of the people in the room, slowly moving to the thump of the music. "Gonna find Yoongi and Tae." He mumbles before disappearing through the mass of bodies.

You'd been at the house party for less than three minutes before you and Jimin found a reason to have an argument. At first, it was how late you were - even though you found out he only got there five minutes before you. Then when you commented on the music choices to Yoongi, he found a way to disagree - despite you both knowing he loved the artist. On and on it went. Now here you were; Namjoon and Hoseok on the couch watching you both with bored expressions, Jin tuned out and typing rapidly on his phone beside them. Jimin stood to your left, and you made sure to keep him totally out of your sight.

But it was getting harder to hear him, thankfully. And he was losing steam. The house was crowded and loud, lively dancers everywhere and the smell of alcohol rich in the air. It was already way too hot out, but being stuffed inside at this party was causing everyone to sweat. You could see condensation forming on the walls.

The house was huge and expensively decorated, belonging to some producer friend of Namjoon. Marbled floors met white walls, a rug carpet covering the floor that made you wince when you thought about the price. It was sprawling and full of a ridiculous number rooms. Yet still, people had to squeeze between the spaces, excuses and polite taps lost in the fury of heat and confinement.

You held your can to your forehead to cool yourself down but it had grown warm waiting for you and Jimin to finish your current spout. You grimace but take a sip anyway - at least if you get a buzz you can ignore him for a little. You felt a pit of guilt at making Jungkook leave. But you were riled up, and you couldn't back down. Not to Jimin.

You saw Jimin tip his head back to drink out of the corner of your eye, but you daren't look at him. He was as insufferable as he was hot as hell, and not just in temperature.

However, you had managed to take a better look at him earlier in the night. His beige silk shirt was already sticking to his skin, tucked into tight jeans blacker than you had ever seen. Who wears silk to a house party? The necklace that he always wore sat just below his collarbones, and you're reminded of all the times you've wanted to throttle him with that damn chain. He'd been pushing his dark hair back all night - you could tell by how it fell about his face, silky strands falling into his eyes. Was he wearing some kind of lipgloss too? You grumble into your drink. He was too pretty for his own good.

At first the sparring was fun. There was an attraction there, on your part at least. It was spicy, something hot and fast, a way to see how compatible you were. Maybe you had some feelings for him. Possibly, potentially.

But over time it devolved. It felt like he'd say things just to get a rise out of you, to draw your attention into a battle with him. And now here you were, bitterly avoiding the man's existence.

"God, why is it so hot here?" Jin gasps, blotting his face with his sleeve.

"Probably haven't got the air con on." Jimin shrugs, taking a swig from his glass.

"It's on-" You start, eyes flicking to where you thought you could see a vent in the ceiling. It was open, so you assumed it would be on - it had to be.

"I highly doubt that."

Jimin gives you the look he always does - where he tilts his head back and stares into your soul. His plump lips part, tongue pressed behind his teeth, goading you into his trap. He gets his way every time.

"Why would they not have it on? It's burning hot even without a house full of people."

"Then it's clearly a crappy unit." He shrugs, but his words are quick and his eyes are still intensely focused on you.

"Jimin have you seen the rest of this house? Don't be dumb-"

"Shut up!"

You and Jimin spin to your friends who had all shouted in unison. The ones who could still stand to be around you both arguing, anyway. Several of the dancers that were nearby stopped to look at the exclamation but slowly drifted back into the music - albeit before taking a step further away from your group.

"Enough. I'm gonna put an end to this once and for all." Namjoon gets to his feet and strides away with purpose, standing a head above nearly everyone in the crowd.

You shiftily look at Jimin before silently waiting for Namjoon to return, confusion thick in your brain. You awkwardly chewed on your lip as the seconds ticked by, before finally he stalks back, his bag under his arm.

He throws himself back into his seat, flips open the top of his bag and rifles through.

Finally he pulls out a heap of bright yellow material, and with a small noise, he dumps his bag beside him before bolting up. He unravels the material and holds it up to you, grin growing on his face.

It takes you a few seconds to focus on what he is holding out to you and Jimin - but when you realise, you gasp.

"'Our get along shirt'? Namjoon you've gotta be joking." you splutter, scanning the shirt.

It was a sickly yellow, 'our get along shirt' printed on it in what appeared to be black glitter. It could probably fit both you and Jimin in it, maybe Yoongi could slip in too. It looked somewhat roomy, but that was not the point.

"What?" Jimin asks, lips parted as he stares into the glitter.

"You're both gonna wear it and get over whatever bullshit is going on here." Namjoon says so casually, as if he was asking the time or giving directions. But you saw the seriousness in the minute movements of his face. The clench on his jaw, the hardiness of his eyes.

"We're adults Namjoon, you can't expect us to wear that." Jimin's face had gone into a full blush, but his frown was deep as he stared at Namjoon.

"You are both gonna wear it."

"No-" You shout, but Namjoon pointedly huffs at you, and you take the hint.

"Put the shirt on. By the end of the night, either one of you will have killed the other or you have this sorted out. Because if not, you'll end up pushing us all away. For good." Namjoon finishes with a sigh, the depth of his gaze so severe it confirms that he isn’t playing with you.

You look behind him at Jin and Hoseok, and the direction in which Jungkook had walked away. Jin and Hoseok looked deadly serious, no hint of a smile or a cackle of laughter like you'd expect.

He had a point. You knew it. But it was so hard - Jimin couldn't let things lie, and you couldn't back away from a fight when it was him you were fighting. But to see others dropping out from around you...

"Hand over the shirt."

You spin to stare at Jimin. His face was tight, jaw set and eyebrows drawn. It had dawned on him too, just how far this had gone. But he obviously didn't like the idea of it, and neither did you.

"Fine but if I do kill him I’m taking you all down with me as accessories." You sigh, reaching forward and taking the shirt from Namjoon.

“How long have you had this, Joon?” Jimin asks, fiddling with the rings on his fingers.

“Long enough.”

You turn it in your hands and with a deep breath, you pull the shirt over your head, sticking your arm through the sleeve and head through the collar. Your left arm hangs loosely in the shirt, and you begin to fret about what you should do with it. Maybe you should just stick it in your pocket? You don't wanna brush anything-

Before you could follow that train of thought, Jimin tugs you and the shirt towards him. You follow, gulping thickly. He casts one last look at Namjoon before putting his head under the bottom of the shirt. within seconds his head is through the collar, his shoulder bumping yours as he tries to get comfortable.

The air is thick around you, the extra warmth of him being so close to you making the heat rise on your face. You were strongly aware of every microscopic move he makes, your senses keenly aware of his proximity. He lets out a harsh sigh, and you feel the breath ripple over the collar and down the shirt. A pout settles on his lips, glossy and wholly enticing - and entirely too close.

His face was inches from yours, shoulders stuck rigidly together as you subtly wrestle for space. The shirt was obviously made for kids, and much smaller than you had originally anticipated. Two kids would be able to almost comfortably stand side by side. You and Jimin had barely enough excess shirt, but the collar was far too small. His hand grazes mercilessly across your thigh, the hardness of his rings pressing into the material of your jeans.

You hear a click of a camera, and your attention snaps up to see Hoseok taking a photo of you both on his phone. With both you and Jimin glaring at him, he snaps another and giggles.

"One for Jungkook." He grins, before flipping his phone to you.

Instinctively you step forward to look, but the lack of space drags Jimin along with you. He crashes into your back, a steadying hand reaching out for your hip, a strangled grunt by your ear. You choke on your breath, and weakly tug at the collar as if it was the cause of your shock.

His hand is warm, the heat pulsating from his palm across your hip. If you weren't sweating before, you definitely were now. You shuffle back a little, easing the tension in the shirt that tugged tightly against you. Jimin brings up a hand and anxiously pushes his hair back from his face, his jaw set so sharply you could cut your finger on it.

"Well, there's bound to be a few teething problems but I'm sure you'll both work it out." Namjoon smiles, eyes bright and full of mischief. "Come on boys, let's give them some space."

You give Namjoon the fiercest glare you could muster before he walks away, but all he does is chuckle at you. Hoseok waves brightly whilst Jin merely winks - until soon all that remained was you and Jimin, hot, flustered and already tired of it all.

"Okay, now that they're gone-" Jimin mutters, twisting in the shirt so that his back was against you. You shuffle back as not to touch him, your mind a hazy hot mess.

Your hand dances threateningly close to his ass so you snatch it up to your chest, staring at the ceiling and holding back an agonised groan.

He brings his hands up and after a few seconds you hear a loud rip.

You snap your head to him to see that he'd ripped the collar almost to the end of the shoulder, giving you more space. You let out a breath and you both adapted to the space, but his shoulder was still brushing you. At least his face was at a less dangerous distance from yours now.

"Do... you wanna sit?" He asks quietly, A faint pinky blush crossing his cheeks. You forced your eyes away, determined not to be distracted.

"Jimin, Namjoon's gonna flip about the shirt."

"No he won't-"

"Yes, he will-"

"Ah, can we just sit?."

You huff, weighing his words before silently nodding, moving forward slowly to give him time to get his brain in gear. He stepped behind you and you shuffled around so that you wouldn't be sat under him.

"Okay sit." You order, and to your surprise he followed your words. You both crash back into the couch, his arms pressing back against you, his legs spread and pressed against yours.

You sit, the silence stretching. You finally get the smell of his cologne, the silk of his shirt sleeve brushing against your arm. It was filling your senses, and though it had only been seconds, this was stretching for an eternity.

And there were all those emotions you felt towards him, rushing to the surface, bubbling beneath your skin.

"Okay this is dumb, why are we doing this?" You grumble, slamming your head back against the cushions, desperate to be away from his heady scent.

He looks at you out of the corner of his eyes, so you pointedly avoid meeting his gaze.

"Because we don't want to lose our friends." His voice is low, the cogs turning in his head.

"Yes I know that, but why do we have to 'sort our problems' from inside the same damn t-shirt?" You snap.

"I... don't know. But I'm not gonna lose friends. Them or you - so get used to being stuck in this shirt with me."He purses his lips in thought, but you’re struck by his words.

"Well it's you who's stuck in here with me." You snark, unable to stop yourself before you say it.

He huffs out a laugh through his nose, and you can’t help but smile. You finally meet his eyes, and like a kid caught doing something he shouldn’t, he snaps his eyes away.

“So we have to like… work on our problems?”

“Apparently.” He murmurs, throwing himself back into the seat.  

The temperature feels ten times hotter than when you weren’t sharing clothing. Your hair sticks to your skin and you shift uncomfortably. Everywhere you touched him felt like it was on fire, every sensor in your body and edge and firing. You force yourself to breathe, in and out. Park Jimin was not going to get the better of you.

But he seemed affected too.

His swallows are thick, adam’s apple bobbing with each gulp. You could see his ringed finger tapping in his leg whilst his other hand was pushing back his hair a little more aggressively than usual.

“So uh…” He starts, but tapers off when you look at him.

“Yeah?”

The seconds tick on, the gap between you non-existent. You avert your eyes and try to focus on the crowd that swirls around you.

You couldn’t help but notice the fact that things were going well. No issues were being resolved per se, but you hadn’t fought properly for a few minutes. And for you both, that was progress. Even if every word that comes to your mind flights away, leaving the silence to stretch.

“Maybe-”

“How about-”

You both blurt words at the same time, letting out an embarrassed laugh as you squarely avoid looking at each other. The music seems louder, making it harder to think about anything that wasn’t directly in your senses. Essentially you were stuck in a Jimin lockdown.

“You go.”

“Oh, I was just going to say I’m gonna need a drink or two for this.” you confess, heat burning across your face.

“That’s… Not a bad idea actually. Let’s go to the kitchen.” Jimin rushes, a little too enthusiastically. It seems like he’s a little on edge too.

Without thinking he tries to stand up, causing you to get ruffled inside the shirt as he staggers to his feet. You’re ripped through the collar of the shirt, your face getting knocked into his hip. Your eyes widen and your breath catches in your throat as he’s slingshotted back into the chair beside you. Your head reemerges through the hole, leaving your hair vigorously disheveled.

“I-, I’m sorry!” He grits, a reddish blush bursting across his cheeks.

You bring up your hand inside the shirt to touch it to your face whilst the other tries to right whatever mess your hair had become.

“It’s fine, just, we gotta move as one.” You mumble, flicking your gaze at him.

“Agh, this isn’t gonna be easy.” He sighs, shuffling to the edge of the chair.

You take a deep breath and follow his lead. You put a tentative hand on the couch to shuffle yourself to the edge, but jimin had the same idea. He puts his hands on top of yours, but instantly snatches it back. He mumbles to himself before turning and giving you a nod. With a steadying breath you both move, almost effortlessly getting off the couch together. It takes you by surprise at how straightforward that was, until the clatter of a noise reaches your ears over the din of the music.

Following the rattle of the noise you look down, only to watch your phone skittering across the floor.

“Oh, shit.” You murmur, watching it stop out of reach. “Jimin, my phone!”

He follows your gaze to where it lays on the floor, narrowly avoiding being stepped on by dancers. Your heart flutters as people step around it, totally unaware.

“Go, go!” He mutters, placing the palm of his hand at the bottom of your back, steering you towards it.

You flush as you’re pushed through, stopping just above it. You’re both jostled by the people around you as you stand guard above your phone. People were dancing dangerously close to it,and all it would take is one drunken fool to stamp on it or you for this to end in disaster.

“Okay let’s drop, carefully this time!” you order, but Jimin scoffs at you.

“I’m trying to be careful!”

“Just don't thrash me about again, that would be nice-”

“I’m not doing it on purpose! I can if you want me to-”

“Oh my god, stop, just bend over and help me!”

“That sounds dirt-”

He starts, but before you let him manifest that in your mind you start to crouch, the force pulling him down to bump his chest into your back. The heat of him crashing into you is instant, an insatiable warmth that spreads in contact. He puts a stabilising hand on your hips as his breath rolls across the back of your neck. A shiver trickles down your body despite trying to hold it back.

“What did you do that for?” He grunts, his mouth closer to your ear as he tries to rebalance himself.

“Y- you’re taking too long trying to argue!”

He presses himself off your back and shuffles down beside you. You finally get crouched on the floor, tentative hands placed on the sticky surface to stop you from toppling over. Jimin crouches next to you, his body facing yours with his leg behind you, tight against your back. It was hard to stay focused with him pressed against you like that, but you know he was just trying to stay stable. So why were you blushing so hard?

Carefully you reach out, your fingers just brushing the edge of the phone. You’re just able to get your fingers over the edge when you’re slammed from the side. Your phone is knocked out of your reach once more as you’re thrown onto Jimin, both of you landing in a tangled heap.

You let out a yelp as you’re falling, the impact to the side of you bristling with shock. His back hits the floor and you land awkwardly, right on top of him.

“Watch what you’re doing, you moron!” Jimin snaps after your head slaps onto his shoulder.

Your heart slams erratically against your chest, his words stinging. You’d come to blows many more times than you can imagine, but he’d never spoken to you in that way, not ever.

“God, I’m sorry.” you murmur, pressing yourself up off his chest, your face practically aflame.

“What? Oh, no no, not you! Whichever idiot smacked into you. Are you alright?“ He asks, his fingers gently gripping your chin and turning you gently in his hands.

Your eyes are wide as he stares at you, your fingers twitching on the silk covering his chest. Once he’s satisfied that you’re okay, he softly releases you. You bring your gaze back to his, beads of sweat rolling down your face.

Jimin looks down to his hand and back up to you after realising what he had just done, before he clenches his fist closed and puts it down to his side. His forehead is creased, his face burning bright.

“We should… ah, should get your phone.” His voice is low, barely audible above the music. But you hear him all the same, stealing your hand back from his chest.

You swallow thickly, stabilizing yourself as you crouched back on your own two feet. Your phone isn’t too far out of reach, but just beyond the touch of your fingertips. You strain, tugging Jimin along behind you. His throat is pulled against your shoulder, but it was no good, you still needed the stretch.

“Hold on.” You mumble, slipping your head out from underneath the collar.

You keep your arm inside the shirt sleeve for plausible deniability - you’d never be able to lie to Namjoon if he asks if you stayed in. But you pull your head out from the bottom of the shirt and reach out, gripping your phone and snatching it up. You shove it in your deepest pocket of your jeans and pat it, relieved.

You crawl back to Jimin and try to climb back into the shirt. He throws the bottom over your head and you push it through - only to slam your head into his arm.

“Ah, sorry!” You yelp, trying to push yourself past him.

He tries to guide your head back up through the collar but manages to get his rings caught in your hair. You yelp at the tug, your hands flying up to untangle him.

“Sorry, sorry!” He shouts, bringing his other hands up to slide his rings off altogether.

Once they’re off his fingers it’s easier to free your hair. With the rings tucked safely in his pocket and with gentle easing, Jimin moves your head up to the collar of the shirt. You rapidly brush your hair out of your face and look at him out of the corner of your eye.

He’s flustered, roughly pushing the hair that sticks to his sweaty forehead back. His lips are parted and his eyes are fixed away from you.

Briefly, the thought of just running away from him crossed your mind. There’d be no more issues if you never saw his face again. No more embarrassment! Of course it was a silly idea, but it would be better than getting the opportunity to make yourself look like an idiot again.

You huff out a breath, blotting your damp forehead with the back of your hand. Your brush with the floor had left your clothes feeling sticky, and your brush against Jimin had set everything else on fire. You needed some fresh ai-

“It’s too hot for this, I need some air.” Jimin shifts in his spot, gesturing to the backdoor that was through the kitchen and blocked by a thick group of party goers. You follow the direction he points and nod enthusiastically.

“I wanna grab some water too.” You murmur. Ignoring his presence.

The people that stood between the cloying heat that you and Jimin were trapped in and the cooler climate outside were dense. You’d have to fight through, but the reward of fresher air to clear your head of Jimin was too tantalising.

With a look at Jimin, he motions with his hand for you to proceed. You roll your eyes at the gesture but you take a cautious step forward, slow and deliberate.

You started pushing your way through, bodies warm and fluid as you tried to champion the way. Jimin got ganged much closer to you, practically pressing into your back as you moved. You focus on finding a path ahead, ignoring the beads of sweat that form in your hairline.

Something had changed between you. This is the closest you had been together, the most you had touched, the longest you had been alone. And you wanted to hate it. You certainly hated how messy he must think you are. But you didn’t. A trickle of something different slides down your body, all your attention focused on his hand on you.

The music changes to something even louder and riles the crowd up. With a swell of movements in the dancers you’re sent flying, knocked by some erratic dancer’s elbow. With the force of the shirt Jimin is dragged with you, crashing into your back and pinballing you against another person.

Subconsciously you turn back to him - but as soon as you’re pressed together, you realise how big a mistake that was.

Stomach to stomach, his face is barely an inch or two from yours. His fingers wrap around your wrist, chest rising and falling as you stare at him.

The sweat that had rolled down his face had reached his throat, dropping down the column and hovering at his apple. The minutest of smirks pulls at his lips, and you realise you’ve been caught.  

He swallows, purposely. The bead rolls the rest of the way down his throat, dropping below his necklace before disappearing down the neckline of his shirt. The silk was clinging to his skin in the heat, and it took every ounce of dignity you had not to look down. You could see in your periphery, and that was more than enough. The man was hot, in every sense.

Your eyes flick back up, a different kind of heat burning up your face. You anxiously lick your lips, eyes finally meeting his. He has an eyebrow propped, a smugness radiating that let your blood boil. But his gaze drops to your mouth, watching your tongue gloss across your lip before looking back up. You can feel his breath hit your chest as his cheeks flushed more than they ever had. Now you were the one to have an audience.

Maybe this was it - the answer. You just needed a moment for everything to click, you could reach an understanding! It had nothing to do with how his stare left you feeling like you could burst in every way possible. Or that his pupils seemed to be blown wide, big enough for you to swim in. His fingers were hot against your wrist, and it felt almost as if his pinky was tracing the tiniest circles into your skin-

“I need the bathroom.”

The words are blurted loudly in your face, and for a moment you forget what reality is.

“I- what?”

“Bathroom. Gotta go. Bathroom stuff.” Jimin splutters.

Before you can respond - not that you knew how to -  he turns from you. His hand still holds your wrist as he pulls you through the crowd, uncaring as to who he pushes aside. All you can do is stare at the back of his hair and be lead.

“Jimin what the hell?!” You yell, ignoring the glares of the nosy partiers.

Your voice is lost, muffled by loud music and Jimin's deaf focus. You finally break free from the throng of people but your journey doesn't end. You're being whipped past busy rooms until you hit the staircase. The odd person watches you in fascination, some even snickering at what was written so plainly in glitter on the shirt. you felt your face burn, and make a silent note to fight Namjoon at the soonest opportunity.

He begins scurrying up the staircase, and with your wrist still firmly in his iron grip, you're soon flying up behind him. He casts a shifty look behind him to check you were still attached, his face flushed but his eyes focused. You have to remember to regulate your breathing.

"God, careful!" You snap, almost stumbling on the top step.

He doesn't acknowledge that he hears you, but then he slows for a second before darting down the winding corridor. He rushes into one of the rooms, a sprawling guest bedroom, before finally letting your wrist drop from his grip. It was almost bigger than your entire place, with an ensuite and even a door leading out to a balcony.

You close the door behind you before Jimin drags you towards the ensuite. Once he's at the open door he pulls his arms through the sleeve and slips out from the shirt. You know you're in the privacy of a bedroom but you suddenly get nervous, eyes turning to the bedroom door.

"We're gonna get in trouble." You murmur. Namjoon is a mind reader, you’d stake your life on it - he'll know you're separated and find you.

"You gotta relax. We're not gonna be spotted through floors and walls. Unless you wanna come in here with me?" He asks, that trademark smirk pulling at his lips. Your stomach flutters, but it is a relief to have a flash of the jimin who pushes your buttons back.

"I -wha- no! Just hurry up, god." You splutter, turning your back to him.

"I won't be long."

With that he saunters back, his cheeks blown out as he sighs, and finally closes the door for some sweet separation. You step back and move to the balcony - the door was unlocked so you push it open and finally breathe.

The air is still warm, but instant relief from being cooped up inside with Jimin washes over you. You close your eyes and soak up the moment of peace, the shirt hanging off your solitary frame.

Your brain was barely processing the situation you were both in. It was enough being stuck in the same item of clothing as someone, but with Jimin? It was hard.

But then again, it was also easy. It was too easy to get wrapped up in him, to be so close, to let yourself be taken with him. It was a place you had hoped to be before, and somewhere you couldn’t go.

You and Jimin were tumultuous. You weren’t sure why it had to be that way. It’s not like either of you were toxic or nasty people - so why did you have to make a stand on everything? Why does every time you stand off with him make the hairs on your neck stand up, make your heart beat so fast in your chest you swear he could hear it?

Maybe it was because you did, after all this time, like him.  

You're snapped out of your thoughts by an erratic knocking at the door. You dart your eyes to it as if you could see through the solid wood, your heart in your throat.

"Y/N? Jimin? You there?" Namjoon calls through the door, and you swear under your breath.

"One second!" You cry, scrambling back from the door and scurry to the ensuite.

"Jimin! Open up!" You whisper at him, your voice a hurried rasp.

"What?"

"I'm coming in!" You wait a few seconds just in case, and then finally throw the door open.

"Y?N!" Jimin yells, scrambling back against the basin.

He was standing with his silk shirt in his hands, His lips parted in shock as he stares at you. His chest was heaving, the faintest glimmer of abs visible behind the thin fabric. Your face was burning almost as much as his, your jaw dropping. His hair was tousled, strands covering his wide eyes as he stared at you.

"Wh... Why are you topless?" Your breath is barely above a whisper as you fight to keep your eyes on his face.

"It's so hot!”

“I’m hot! Do you see me taking my clothes off?” You rush, using every ounce of restraint in your body to not lick your lips.

The thought of you and Jimin taking your clothes off together flashed through your mind and you internally screamed at yourself. This was not the time to unpack that, though you’d be lying if you said the thought hadn’t crossed your mind before.

“Wah- uh, you... I was trying to cool dow- why are you barging in here?!" He rushes, taking a hasty step towards you. To have to sort through your frazzled thoughts before you remember why you were there in the first place.

"Namjoon! He's at the door!" As if to accentuate your point, Namjoon raps on the door again, calling out to you both.

"Agh!" Jimin cries, rushing forward and grabbing the hem of the shirt you still wore.

He begins to get into it as he pushes you towards the door. You could feel the horror fill your veins as the heat of his body slips in beside you, his hand at the small of your back as he guides you. Your arm brushes against his bare hip, the skin hot and smooth. You snatch your arm up and hold it against your chest as if burned and ignore the rapid change in your breathing.

"Why haven't you put your shirt on?!" You whisper, but he just huffs.

"To save time, Now show me your pretty smile and let's get rid of him so I can get dressed." Jimin's hand is on the door, and all you can do is stare at him, eyes wild.

"My wha-"

The door flies open, but you're still staring at Jimin. Pretty...?

"Well hello." Namjoon is leant against the doorframe, arms crossed as he gives you both a crooked grin. His eyes flicker to the room behind you, his eyes landing on the bed just beyond you both.

"Just needed the bathroom." Jimin rushes, hand once again settling in his hair.

"I didn't ask." His voice is light, but his eyes are fierce as he scans you both thoroughly.

"You were thinking about it, though." Jimin mutters. He tries to cross his arms at Namjoon, but with one arm under the shirt and one over he soon drops it. Your gaze was still stuck on him though. Pretty?

"How's the shirt working out, you both talking?" Namjoon asks, and you finally snap your attention to him. He's already watching you and raises an eyebrow. You scramble to stamp down your emotions, despite every nerve in your body sizzling.

"Oh yeah, we’re the best of friends now, right JimJam?" Your voice is bubblegum sweet, giving Jimin the goofiest smile you could muster.

"Totally! We've been braiding our hair and sharing juicy stories. We're basically besties."

Jimin beams at Namjoon, before stepping close and wrapping an arm around your waist to hug you. It was all part of the charade, of course. But as you're pulled back against his chest, you swear your heart could explode. His hand sits lightly on your hip, his every breath rolling down your neck. It didn’t matter that the move was practically hidden under the shirt.

"Yeah..." you laugh, but it's more of a choke as you pat his hand over the shirt and avoid meeting Namjoon's probing gaze.

Jimin clears his throat awkwardly behind you, his finger twitching on your hip. The heat between you swealters, every inch of your skin electric against his body.

Namjoon's eyes flick between you. You could see his thoughts brewing but they never pass his lips. Instead you and Jimin wait, his hands singeing your skin where they rested, his bare chest like fire against you.

"Well, I can see you're obviously working on something. But until you're actually convincing, you can stay in that shirt." He shrugs, grin widening across his face. With a final flick of his eyes, he pushes off the door frame and heads back towards the stairs.

"This is ridiculous Namjoon!" You yell at his back, crossing your arms across your stomach.

"Maybe - but you're both still wearing it." He smirks back over his shoulder.

You yell incoherent words at his back before huffing out a breath. Your fingers twitch in anger, putting a stubborn hand on your hip, the skin hot under your touch.

Faintly you realise the contact isn’t registering on your hip, and it isn’t until Jimin loosens his grip on you that you realise your hand had been resting on his. His hands fall from your body as he shuffles away, swallowing a throaty gulp.

You couldn’t look at him. It was all fun and games to begin with- oh, who were you kidding? This had been sucky, but something had shifted. You needed air, a chance to breathe, to not be tethered to the man that seems to haunt you.

“Need air.” Your voice a rasp as you step back into the room.

Jimin barely shuts the bedroom door before you’re marching to the balcony, not caring about whether you drag him along or not. Once you’re outside you heave in a breath, letting the air fill your lungs.

“That was too close.” You murmur, fiddling with the hem of the shirt.

“How was I supposed to know Namjoon would be keeping tabs?”

“I’m not blaming you Jimin! Why are you making this into an argument too?” You snap, your eyes fixed on the treeline on the edge of the property.

You feel him wriggling aggressively next to you, only to look back and see him climbing out of the shirt. You watch in horror as he slips out from under the sickly yellow material, keeping his bare back to you.

“What are you doing?” You yelp, scanning over the edge of the balcony for any sight of your friends. They couldn’t see you apart, they would never trust either of you again.

“What are we doing?”

“We’re meant to be working this out from inside the same ugly shirt-”

“No not right now. I mean, kind of. I just… Why did we let it get this far?”

You let his words hang in the air, your thoughts scattered. The thump of the music below drifts up to you, the mass of partygoers that stood out in the gardens laughing and chatting loudly. It seemed a world away from the tension that fills the air between you and Jimin.

He turns back to you with a look on his face so intense you can’t place it. But you could tell he was tightly wound - his shoulders were squared and his jaw was tight. He avoids making eye contact with you for as long as he can. But when he finally does, it was too easy to get lost in what you see there.

“We just argue, I guess.” you shrug, averting your eyes from his chest and stomach. This wasn’t the time to be fawning over him. It was hard - he was beautiful, there was no escape from that. It’s one of a million reasons you had liked him in the first place.

“You can't tell me you’re happy with that explanation.” He huffs, crossing his arms.

“Of course I’m not but what do you want me to say? You don’t like me, you’ve made that plain enough. Not everyone gets along.”

You bite your lip, admitting the words you’d been too scared to think out loud. But when you hear a faint gasp, your eyes shoot up to his face. His lips are parted, a look of abject shock written on his delicate features.

I d- I do like you.” His voice is so quiet you can barely hear him. But you do, and the words strike deep.

You can’t open yourself up to this right now. Namjoon will find a way to know that you’re both separated, and the rest of the guys will drift away. You want to be civil with Jimin, not have your entire soul bared open to him. You couldn’t survive that.

“Can you please put your shirt back on?” You mumble, your eyes laser-focused imploringly on his face, but he doesn't hear you, barrelling on.

“It’s not like I enjoy arguing with you!”

“Then why are you making it so difficult?” Your voice cracks, the hurt of your never ending battles threatening to surface.

“Do you know how hard it is to get your attention-“ he starts, his fast flow of words immediately cut off as he gawks at you, delicate fingers slamming over his lips.

“What?” You blurt, processing his words.

“No no, nothing! Forget it.” he shakes his hands at you, eyes wide and face blushing a deep pink.

“Jimin! What do you mean, get my attention?”

“I… yeah. We’re always with the guys, I guess I didn’t know how else to get you to focus on me.”

“Why?” Your voice is faint, a million thoughts crashing in your head.

“No, forget it!”

“Jimin!”

“Ah, I like you, okay?”

The air around you thickens, the distance between you a thousand miles yet still too close. Your heart thumps rapidly in your chest, your eyes wide as saucers and your skin prickled with goosebumps.

“You- huh?”

“I… like you. A lot. It happened pretty quickly.” He sighs, running a shaky hand through his hair.

"Why have you never told me?"

"Because it's humiliating as hell?" He laughs bitterly, his eyes darting to anywhere but you.

"Jimin..."

"No seriously. If I had told you, you'd reject me because why wouldn't you? All we do is argue."

"You think I'd reject you?" You ask, voice quiet as you step closer to him. His gaze finally snaps back to you at your movement.

"I mean, I... yeah?"

He runs a hand roughly over his face, turning his back to you. He looks so flawless in the moonlight. But he always looked flawless to you. Watching him fret like this was something so alien to you, but so human, so Jimin. You couldn’t let him suffer these feelings alone.

"Well, I wouldn't have." You mumble.

“You- what?”

Your brain scrambles, your heart hammering in your throat. He stares at you, wide eyes and chest heaving as if he was winded. Swallowing thickly you press on, despite the fear that churns in your gut.

“I wouldn’t reject you, Jimin. I… uh. I like you too.” You fiddle awkwardly with the hem of the stupid shirt.

The whole scenario had you feeling like a girl going through a childhood crush again. Though last time you had a crush on a boy who was fighting with you, you punched him in the nose. It was doubtful that would work this time around-

“Jimin?” You ask, watching as he shrinks back on himself.

You watch as he breathes, his chest rising and falling, the rapidly cooling night air raising goosebumps across his skin. It was hard to keep your brain on track.

After a moment he meets your gaze with a softness so potent it was enough to choke you.

In two steps he was on you, his lips crashing against yours. Your entire body threatens to shut down, the shock rippling through you. Before you even had a second to comprehend how good his lips felt against yours he pulls back, fear in his eyes as he worries.

You know then what you want. Who you want. You wondered why you wasted so long arguing to get it.

With your blood thrashing violently in your veins you reach your hands out to his face, caressing the smooth skin of his cheek before you surge forwards. The feel of the gloss on his lips smudges as you let yourself be consumed, the slightest hint of cherry seeping in.

Kissing Park Jimin. You. You’re kissing him. Your eyes slam shut as you sink into him, electricity crackling on your skin.

With no doubt in his mind at all Jimin slides his hands to your hips, fingers curling into the shirt as he moves you back, pushing you into the wall. You moan into his kiss, and he smirks against your lips. To trip him up you press the kiss deeper, letting the tip of your tongue dance at his pretty lips, wanting to taste him.

He does you one better, turning the tides and pressing the kiss back to you, tongue flicking to you.

Just like normal, you weren’t one to back down from Jimin.

Letting a hand move into his silken hair, you brush it back the way you’d seen him do a thousand times. But instead of letting your hands fall out of the soft locks, you let the strands wind around your fingers and give it a tug.

Jimin lets out a low groan, breaking the kiss to pant against your lips. Pride flows through you, but so did a sense of admiration - it was something you wanted to hear from that pretty mouth over and over.

“That’s a dangerous game you’re playing, Y/N.” He whispers, tugging sharply on the shirt so that your body was flat against his.

You try to not let the gasp from you come out too loud, the lines of his body startlingly apparent as you’re pressed together.

“You think that scares me?”

At your words he smiles. It spreads slowly, but soon his whole face is alight, brightness shining out of him. With his fingers at the hem of the massive shirt, he gives you a filthy giggle before kneeling and slipping himself inside of the material.

“What are you doing?” You yelp, feeling the familiar sensation of being stuck in the stupid shirt with him again. But it was different too, it wasn’t suffocating like before.

His head popped back up through the ripped collar, grin still annoyingly plastered across his face.

“Shouldn’t you be trying to get me out of this shirt, Park Jimin?” You whisper, breathless as he presses you back against the wall.

“I can’t deny that you have too many clothes on.” He smirks, delicate fingers sliding up your shirt to rest on your hot skin. “But there’s something… ah, satisfying about having you in this shirt.”

“Seriously?”

“What’s the matter Y/N, don’t think you can handle it?” His fingers circle agonisingly slow on your hips, a mischievous glint catching in his eye. He knows you so well.

“You’re gonna be the one who can’t handle it.”

“Prove it.”

You almost growl at him as he presses your buttons, but the burning in you meets the heat in your stomach. You need him more than ever.

You pull him back against you by the hair, crushing your lips together once more. He moans into you, nails pressing into your hips as your lips collide. You roll your hips against him, the fire in your veins white hot as he stutters against you. He breaks your kiss to gasp needily, eyes shut tight as your stomach brushes against the bulge in his tight jeans.

His eyes finally open, unfocused and swimming. But after a second he fixes his gaze on you, determined. A flicker of anticipation fills you, awaiting retribution.

His fingers move from your skin to the hem of your shirt, tugging it up until you have to help him. The shirt you were sharing was making it difficult, and you start to regret ever letting him get his way. But as soon as you are free he presses back into you, his hot skin flush against yours, his fingers idly tracing the straps of your bra.

Just with the gentle brush of his fingertips he nudges the straps down your arms, goosebumps rising along his trail. He presses his lips to your cheek, pecking slow, soft kisses across your cheekbone as he moves towards your ear. You sigh as his mouth moves lower, plump lips pressing dainty kisses down your neck. With you swept up, his hands move behind you and unclip your bra.

A gasp passes your lips while his own are still planted at your neck, sucking on a soft spot there. Your bra slides off your body, landing with a quiet thud on the floor of the balcony.

His fingers find their way back to your hips, slowly caressing their way up. An excited shiver catches you, and you feel him laugh against your skin. His warm hands find your breasts, thumbs rubbing over the soft skin before finding your nipples.

You suck in a breath as he kisses back up your neck. He pauses to capture your lips again, lulling you into him as his thumbs brush out across your nipples.

With your staccato breathing he smirks once more into your skin. Not one to ever be outmanoeuvred by Jimin, you decide it’s time to flip the switch.

You purposefully run your fingers down his stomach, featherlight and teasing. He hitches his breath, mouth detaching from your neck as he waits, anticipating your every move. His hot breath rolls down your neck, rippling off your chest. You hide a smirk in his hair and focus on your goal.

Letting your fingers rest on his belt buckle - no doubt something obnoxiously expensive - you begin to undo him as slow as you possibly could. You slide it off, inching it so little that you could feel him get restless against you.

“You’re a nightmare.” He whispers, looking up at you through his eyelashes.

“I’m just savouring the moment.” You offer softly, the soft clinks of the buckle resting against his thigh.

“You’ll pay if you tease me like this.” His voice is high, airy. The voice of a man in complete control - though you knew that was far from the truth.

“Mm, sure Jimin.” You smirk, bringing a hand up between you to his face.

You angle him back up to kiss you, which he does with ferocity. You smile into him, the power to provoke him rich in your veins.

Your hand sinks back to his belt, and with him distracted you pull it off him fast, dumping it somewhere on the floor and popping the button of his jeans. He gasps into your kiss, fingers automatically flexing across your breasts. You hold your reaction to yourself, intent on giving nothing away until you are ready.

You tug down his zipper, pressing it back onto him so he feels the teeth unclipping against his boxers. You knew they were gonna be some annoyingly expensive brand too, but the thought of getting him to ruin them for you was intoxicating. He leans his forehead against yours, the desperation rising his face palpable.

With a sharp tug you drop his jeans to his mid-thigh before moving your fingers back to him, running teasingly around his waistband. You didn’t have to look under the shirt to know his boxers were tented, his erection straining against the fabric. You dip a finger just below his waistband, tracing along the lines of his hips. He lets out a choked breath, hips subconsciously bucking into you.

“Y/N…”

“What?” You ask sweetly, moving your fingers to brush along his pubic bone. Your knuckles barely graze the base of his shaft, but he lets out a murmur of swear words as his eyes flicker.

Not one to be overshadowed for long, Jimin lets his hands drop to your hips and immediately flies to your zipper. He presses his crotch into you, and you feel just how hard he is for you. With a flapping mouth you watch him, challenging eyebrow raised.

Everything was a game. One that you were intent on winning.

Plucking at your courage, you slide a hand back down, wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock. His hips stutter in your hand, a gush of air forcing out of his lungs.

He felt good in your hand - really good. Firm skin, warm and pulsing in your hand. You experimentally ran a finger along his underside, tracing the vein all the way to his tip. He lets himself go then, head thrown back, eyes tightly clasped. A low groan rumbles from his throat, his fingers stilling on your zip.

“Feel good?” You whisper, pressing your lips to his.

“Ah, mm…” Is all he can manage as his head falls back.

He’s totally lost in your touch, and you’d barely started. A ripple of excitement darts through you, the sight of having Park Jimin needy and in your hands was too powerful to overlook.

A small giggle falls from your lips, the tiniest of noises. But it’s enough to spur him back to reality with his dark eyes finally refocusing on you.

He takes a breath to center himself before pulling down your jeans slowly. You feel the material slide over your hips and sit above your knees. Your panties quickly follow, thrust down faster than you can blink.

He lets a hand drag back up your thigh, running across to where you want his hand the most. Your touch on him falters as anticipation runs through your body. Ever so slowly he lets a finger stroke across your slit, barely grazing your skin. You wrap your free arm over his shoulder, taking a grip of his soft hair.

He smiles at you, and you let your eyes drag across his face. He drags his bottom lip between his teeth at your scrutiny. You can’t help but admire him: the way his lipgloss is smudged up across his cupid’s bow, the sweat that seemed to be dribbling so aesthetically down his sharp jaw, the blown out pupils of his deep eyes. Your breath catches in your throat as you soak him in - and that’s when he decides to strike.

He slips his fingers between your folds, feeling how wet you are for him, before sliding his fingers up to your clit. He applies only the slightest bit of pressure but it’s enough to have you gasping at his touch. He lets out a soft moan as he feels you, letting his fingers move in the tiniest circles.

You slowly rock your hips on his fingers, knotting your own in his hair. You instinctively flex your hand only to have his hips instinctively thrust his cock into your hand.

Deciding to move things on just a little, you move back just enough to see his cock in your hand. His eyes flutter open at your movements, only to blow wide when he sees a trail of spit drop from your lips onto his tip. You catch it with your thumb and rub it into his tip, rolling it down his length.

A low moan leaves him, his free hand coming up to wipe your bottom lip ever so delicately. You meet his eyes, a fire burning there just for you. He drags you into a kiss, his hand scrunching in your hair.

His hand start to move again, circling you and getting into a slow rhythm on your clit. You moan into his kiss, starting your movements too until both of you were breathless messes.

The kisses became scattered and sloppier as you both let your hands work. The delicate touch of his fingers was enough to blur your vision, and your firm grip that was growing in speed on his length rendered him weak in your hands.

His own hand moves deftly, nimble fingers moving between circling your needy clit to running through your wetness. His jaw slackens each time he feels how wet you are for him, pride drifting somewhere in his lust-blown eyes.

Jimin is slick under your grasp, rock hard as you twist up and down his length. Staggered gasps fall from his lips, getting more and more careless as you drag him higher.

His circling gets a little more pressure, and it’s enough to send your head lulling back, barely able to focus on the task literally in hand. You returned his zeal, putting an extra squeeze on his length. The choke that passes his lips sends pride through your already thrashing veins. His face twitches; his forehead creases, pretty lips part slightly further, eyebrows jolt. You know he’s close, and you have the power in your hands.

But he has you, too. The pressure pulsing from your core builds, your eyes slamming shut as you're barely able to form words. You can feel it rising, teetering on the edge of something good-

-until he jerks his fingers from you. You whimper at the loss of his fingers, orgasms skittering disappointingly away from you. Your eyes open as you snap your bereft gaze to him.

“Fuck, Y/N, too quick-“ he murmurs, grabbing hold of your wrist and gently pulling your hand of his throbbing cock.

“Jimin?”

He’s fully flushed, strands of silken hair stuck to his forehead. His chest rises and falls rapidly with his chest, eyes wild.

“I don’t wanna cum just yet.”

“What if I wanted you to-“

“Don’t argue with me on this,” he laughs, pressing a kiss to your lips. But then his voice drops low, lips pulled into a deadly smirk. “I have to make you cum first.”

You barely have a second to swallow down a gasp before you’re pulled from the wall to crash against his lips.

You hold him against you with the collar of the shirt you were still trapped in, matching his energy as he kisses you desperately. Your hands are held tight against his chest, his cock resting teasingly against your stomach.

His hands let go of you to grab your hips, steering your towards the edge of the balcony.

Once you're spun he pushes you gently, bending you over to lean against the railing. Forgetting that you’re stuck in the same damn shirt, he gets yanked down with you, body flush against your back. He lets out a tiny giggle into the back of your neck and it’s as if your heart could stop from the sound.

The cool of the metal railing presses into your chest, hands bracing it through the shirt. You look to the party happening below, guests hovering out in the garden to escape the heat of the sweaty party. You were pretty well out of sight - as long as nobody looked up.

“There’s quite a few people down there.” Jimin’s lips are by your ear, making the hairs on your neck stand on end.

“Don’t think you can make me loud enough? That’s a shame.” You smirk, unable to stop teasing him.

“You’re gonna regret those words baby.”

The pet name strikes deep within you. It’s perfect coming from Jimin, warmth radiating across your body. And you couldn’t blame that one on the heat.

Jimin presses his body onto your back, thick erection settling just above your cheeks. You feel the heat of his hand smooth from your thigh round to the front of you. He takes a few swipes across your clit to make you jerk beneath him before his fingers drift further back.

He swirls a finger around your waiting hole, agonizingly slow. You gasp at him, pushing your hips back into him. His shaft brushes against your cheeks and you can hear him suck in a desperate breath. Spurred on by his own need, he dips his finger gradually inside.

It’s slow, pushing past his knuckle until his finger sits inside you. You feel your walls pulse around him, desperate for more. His hand stills, taking his time to pepper kisses behind your ear. He nips playfully at your lobe, taking his sweet time with each movement.

You know he’s doing it to make you suffer. And god were you suffering, using every ounce of restraint to not whine for him.

Slowly he turns his finger so it sits better inside of you. The graze of his knuckle causes you to moan, and you feel him smirk into your skin.

“That’s what I was waiting for.”

He slowly begins to pump into you. It’s instantly better than his stationary finger, but still agonizingly slow. You needed him, harder and faster.

“Jimin…” you whine, pushing your rear back into him. He tuts into your ear, stilling his fingers.

“You need to let go, Y/N. I’ve got you.” He punctuates his point by kissing a trail along your shoulder.

You bite your lip, his words hitting a little deeper than just him getting you off. You always had to be in control of yourself around Jimin - you had to win, had to be alert. You couldn’t let your emotions get hold of you.

But it was all out in the open now. He knew how you felt - and he feels the same too. Maybe you can let go, just a little. It didn’t mean you had to start losing arguments any time soon, though.

You nod, turning your head to where he was pressing kisses into your skin. He beams at you, eyes scrunching as he surges up to catch your lips.

His movements cause his thumb to brush across your clit, and you moan wantonly into him. He pulls away to peer over the balcony, the loud noise escaping you both. You follow his gaze, but you’d drawn no attention. Not yet anyway-

He looks back at you and winks, the move cheeky and completely Jimin but he silences by pulling his finger almost completely out of you. Your jaw drops at the sensation, but just as quickly he pushes it back inside you, as far as he can go.

You bite the collar of the shirt to muffle your noise. His skin was still hot against yours, a sheen of sweat building on your forehead as you focused on him.

Mercifully he begins to fuck his finger in you, curling inside you. You inhale sharply through your nose, eyes shut tight as you let yourself go.

He carries on for a few more pups before he lets a second finger coat in your wetness. On the next thrust into you, he gently presses in a second finger, and you feel yourself clamp down at the stretch. Jimin keeps pressing kisses against your skin, but he gets breathless, his own erection pressing tauntingly at your back.

He sits his fingers for just a few seconds, letting you get used to him before he works them back out of you. In and out, in and out. He’s slow again, teasing you to the point of madness. You groan in frustration, but it was just what he was waiting for.

He thrusts his fingers deep into you, fucking you fast. Your hips roll to meet his pumps, the drag of him inside you delicious.

He brings up two fingers to your lips, and instinctively you take them into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the digits. You make sure to meet his eye as you run your tip up the crack between his fingers, eliciting a groan from him and a buck of his hips against you.

He pulls them from your mouth and moves them between your legs. His fingers find your clit, and to match the rhythm that he was fingering into you, he begins to circle your needy bud.

It pushes you over the edge, almost literally. You cling onto the balcony as you’re thrust into it, Jimin sucking marks into your neck. You groan, the contact all over your body making you weak. The wet noises that surround you are pure sin, making you bite down on your lip. Jimin groans into your skin, teeth sinking softly into your shoulder as his fingers work fast.

“Fuck!” You yelp as his fingers brush your soft spot inside.

You slap a hand over your mouth as you stare down into the garden below, fear icy in your veins as you hope you’re not spotted.

Jimin doesn’t stop though. He hides his head in your neck, thrusting his fingers faster now that he knows your weak spot.

A few people below scan around them for the source of the swearing, but thankfully none of them think to look up. You bite your lip, eyes closing as you let yourself fall back into Jimin.

“That was a close one, huh?” He whispers, a lilt of a giggle in his voice.

“Shut up.” You murmur, voice cracking as he circles your clit so well you almost see stars.

“That’s no way to talk to the man who’s got two fingers deep in your-“

“Fuck, Jimin please!” You gasp, his next words dancing at the front of your mind.

The circles on your clit get defter, pressure hitting you just right as your hips start to roll uncontrollably. You grip tightly at the railing, unable to stop the flow of moans that echo from you. Being spotted from below is less important as you can feel your orgasm rising, your legs feeling weak underneath you.

Your skin prickles from the heat generating between your bodies, Jimin’s hot breath rolling across your neck as you flush harder.

“I’m gonna...” you whimper, your words lost to pleasure.

“Cum baby, all over my fingers.” His whisper sends shivers through you, a welcome change to the heat that dribbles down your temples.

He curls his fingers on every thrust to bring you closer to the precipice. You push back against him furiously, riding his fingers and your knuckles turn white on the railings. You feel it coil in your stomach, and you know you’re so close.

“Let go Y/N.” He whispers, breath ragged from exertion, but still peppering your marked skin with tiny kisses. You screw your eyes shut as you embody his words, letting yourself give in to the feeling.

“Jimin!”

Your orgasm crashes around you, a litany of swear words moan from your lips. Your walls clench down on Jimin’s fingers, twitching under his fingertips. You slam your hand over your mouth as your moans subside, wide eyes scanning the crowd below.

Heads turn in your direction, and before you can begin to scramble Jimin pulls you back from the balcony to stand flush against him. Your heart pounds in your chest, but the thrill that runs through your veins is undeniable.

He finally pulls his fingers out of you, the gush of wetness and noise make your face heat up. He wraps that arm across your chest and holds you against him, a wide grin wrinkling his eyes. You kiss him, soft and delicate, plump lips locking with yours.

Once you pull back he grins again, before moving the fingers that were in you towards his lips. your mouth parts as you watch him slip the digits inside, taking his time to suck off the taste of you. A light whimper leaves you as you watch him finally slide them out from between your lips with a pop, devilish glint in his eye.

Witha shiver you turn in his grip, pushing him firmly back against the wall.

He hisses lightly as his back hits it, and hisses louder as you're bungied in the shirt against him. He lets out a laugh and you do the same as you right yourself. But you can't keep yourself away from him as your lips are on his again. You flick your tongue at his, the taste of you on him.

“Wanna be inside you...” he whispers between kisses, his hot fingers idling their way up and down your sides. You groan at his words, nodding dreamily at him.

“God, yes please.” you sigh, feeling his lips trace kisses along your jaw.

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” He smiles against your skin, grabbing you by the hips and spinning you both.

He pushes you back against the wall, the bite of the wood pressing into your skin.

“I’ve never heard you so passive.” He laughs, thumb and finger coming up to gently grip your chin. You grin at him, a flutter in your stomach.

“Don’t get used to it Park Jimin.”

He tips his head back to laugh, a pinky flush hot on his cheeks. All you can do is watch in awe, soak him in as he glows in the moonlight. But then he looks back down at you with the stars in his eyes and you realise that, yes - this is what you had wanted all along.

You bring his lips crashing back down to yours, letting your fingers knot in his dark hair and you touch him, drink him in. The silken strands flit through your fingers, and you idly think to yourself about him running his own hands through it. You can see why he does it now.

His thumb strokes across your chin, gently pulling your face from his. You open your eyes to look at him, the flush on his face even brighter.

“Ready?”

“Give it your best shot.” you smile, peppering his jaw with kisses.

You’re stopped in your tracks when he hoists one of your legs over his hip, a teasing eyebrow raised at you. Not to be bested, you hook your leg over his ass and pull him against you. You feel his erection sit against your stomach, hard and leaking onto your skin.

He takes hold of himself and strokes across your wet slit, coating himself. A withered sigh escapes your lips as you watch his frown deepen. His face contorts as he concentrates, teasing himself just as much as he was you. You lean forward to let a trail of spit fall from your lips and drip down onto him, coating his cock even more. You don’t know what possessed you to do it again, but the way he stuttered in a gasp made it well worth it.

Then with an agonisingly slow pace, he begins to press himself just inside you. Your mind clears, all that you can see and feel is Jimin. You had waited long enough.

A wimpery sigh strangles from you, Jimin pressing against your walls until he is fully seated in you. He was so warm, stretching you in all the right places, as close to you as he could physically be.

You give him an encouraging squeeze with your leg. He takes the hint and slowly starts to pull out of you, hair flopping in front of his eyes as he looks down to watch himself pull out of you. The drag of him is good, too good, as you let a warble of noises fall out of your mouth. He doesn't seem to mind though, his focus transfixed elsewhere.

"Jimin..." you whisper, fingers digging into his skin as he slowly begins to reach a rhythm.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, any mischievous glint in him gone. He was a man on a mission now, aiming to make you feel as good as possible. You could feel that in every stroke, the way he let you feel the length of him drag almost fully out before he pushes back inside you.

You start to roll your hips back at him, determined to not let him have all the fun. The tentative thrust of your hips had his head snap up to you, a fresh sheen of sweat glowing on his skin. You try to play it off coolly - another attempt to throw him off his game - but he squeezes your ass cheeks and holds himself deep in you, and your resolve melts away.

"Don't start something you can't finish." He smirks, and despite the need to fight him bubbling in you, you tip your head back and laugh.

"I guess that applies to both of us." You smile, pressing forward to kiss his lips softly. "Now fuck me Park Jimin, or we're really gonna have a fight on our hands."

He laughs against your lips, a gentle bubble that rises from his chest. But he takes on your words, pressing you hardest against the wall and hiking your leg higher.

He only goes slow for a few thrusts, getting a feel for you before he decides to ramp it up further. 'Typical Jimin' seems to float through your head, but you just grip him tighter, moving to meet his thrusts. You wanted to savour how full he made you feel for as long as possible.

His speed picks up, a hand moving to the underside of your raised legs and digs in deep. You let your own hands slide to his hair, keeping hold of the soft locks as he starts to hit harder inside you.

The sound of your skin making contact seems to echo loudly, and you barely spare a thought to people below working out what the noise was. You didn't care if they heard any more.

It was so hot inside the shirt together, and you could feel beads of sweat rolling down your chin and down your neck. This definitely wasn't helping the heat problem at all, but there was nothing on earth that would make you stop.  The edges of Jimin's hair were getting damper, and with every tug of his hair he let his head fall back into your touch. His throat was bared to you, salty beads dribbling down his hot skin.

You murmur a series of curses as you watched him, the thrum of him being underneath you almost unbelievable.

But then he pulls out a power move.

With fast thrusts he rolls his hips, his cock dragging almost perfectly across your soft spot inside, and all your senses seem to leave you. He repeatedly manages to hit your spot and you are sure he is planning to end you, it was the only way to explain it. Death by good dick, you could see it now.

"Fuck fuck fuck." you repeat like a mantra, The wet slaps that echoes just adding to the sensation.

"Wanna turn you." He mutters breathlessly, and a part of you is glad he's also feeling so affected.

You can't seem to vocalise an answer so you nod emphatically, unhitching your leg from its vice-like grip around him. He pulls out of you and you almost complain, but then his hands are on your hips.

He spins you and presses you against the wall, lifting your leg up and lining himself back inside you again. You're practically dripping for him, so it doesn't take much for him to push back inside. You push your ass back into his thrusts making his movements stutter, and with a playful squeeze he whines behind you.

A small smirk picks up on your lips as you roll your hips back at him, starting him out of his stupor and back to where you need him.

He pounds his hips into you and you have to steady yourself against the wall. The shirt bunches awkwardly, caught in your grip as the rough wood of the wall digs into your skin. Jimin presses his front against your back, the hotness of his skin pricking against your own.

An arm slides around your waist, guiding you, holding you steady as he ferociously fucks into you. His other arm settles across your chest, his fingers clenching across your collarbone. His mouth is by your ear, ragged breaths blowing across the taut collar of the shirt and hitting the warmth of your body.

“Y/N.” Jimin groans, the lilt in his voice uneven as his hips crash into yours.

Your entire body was tingling, the pleasure from your core and the bite of the wall against your bare skin a fight for your senses. You could feel perspiration form on your forehead making your hair stick to you awkwardly but it didn't matter.

Jimin filled you in every way. The hot touch from his fingertips on your waist and across your chest, the heat of his stomach at the base of your back, the soft moans that he sings by your ears.

"That's it, baby." He groans, his fingers curling onto your skin.

The hand that he has sat on your waist slinks across your stomach to reach between your legs, letting his fingers circle your throbbing clit. The pressure makes your eyes slam shut, letting your head fall back onto Jimin's shoulder behind you.

A small single laugh falls from his lips, but your inevitable clench off your walls around him cuts it short. He thrusts a little harder, rocking you against the wall. You have to brace yourself as he fills you repeatedly, his athletic hips working overtime.

The hand that has been pressed to your chest finds its way to your throat, holding just below your jaw. You let out a moan as you cover his hand with yours, pressing his fingers into your throat.

"Shit..." He gasps, his hips stuttering.

"I bet you've been wanting to strangle me for ages." You rush, voice cracking as he circles your clit a little harder.

"Only when I've thought about fucking you."

The moan that leaves you is barely human. In fact, you were barely human any more. you were turning to putty on his cock and under his fingers. It wasn't going to be long until you reached your peak.

His fingers press into your throat under your guidance, the delicious bite making your vision slowly pool. You gasp, shivers tingling down your body. He lets up his grip a little to let your blood flow one more, your body practically vibrating from stimulation.

"Close, Jimin..." you whine, rocking your ass back into him.

"Let loose for me, Y/N." He whispers, pressing his lips to the shell of your ear.

He lets out one last surge of energy, fucking into you and rubbing your clit with a renewed vigour. you throw yourself back at him without care, chasing the high he was leading to you.

With a few more pumps and circles on your clit, you come undone.

Your body pulses on him, clenching down hard as your orgasm crashes through you. Your fingernails dig into his hand and the wall, a strangled cry of his name bursting from you. You cum hard on him, helping him finally reach his peak too - you could tell by the way his hips stuttered, the way he throbbed inside you.

"Cum, Jimin." you whimper, rocking your throbbing core on him.

He doesn't hold back, pumping a few stuttery thrusts into you as he cums. He fills you, gasping against your ear as your walls milk him dry. He thrusts until he can’t anymore, slowing his hips as the fullness inside of you trickles out past his length.

Both of your movements slowly lull to a stop. Jimin holds your body close against him, ragged breath hot against your ear. Your skin is prickled from the heat but you nestle into him anyway.

He finally pulls his softening length from inside you, a small dribble of your combined juices trickle down causing shivers to cover your body.

Turning your head you smile at him, slightly out of breath and dewy. The sight of him is godly: Messy hair sticking to his damp forehead, a pretty red blush spreading across his cheeks, plushy lips parted and sucking in breaths. He smirks back, a lazy grin growing. He moves closer and kisses you, gentle brushes of his lips against yours.

His hand that sat on your throat moved to stroke your cheek, and you let your hands thread in his hair as your kiss trails off into small pecks.

The air is different around you. It’s still hot, swirling close and untempered. But there’s something else too - a coolness, an understanding. A person behind the battle lines. Someone you could lean on, and someone who could keep up with you in an argument.

You pull back from him and look at him, his eyes slightly starry and his lips swollen from all they had been doing. With a soft smile you rub your thumb across his cupid’s bow, wiping off the last of his lipgloss.

“We should probably go downstairs, right? We don’t want Namjoon sticking that long neck of his out here.” Jimin whispers, his eyes finally focusing on you.

You nod, but not before pressing one last soft kiss to his lips. Now you’ve started, there was nothing in the world that could stop you from peppering him.

“Yeah.” You sigh, voice cracking slightly.

But neither of you move, both unwilling to be the first to break apart.

“I don’t want to leave here either.” He smirks, but it’s softer. Not the smirk he throws out to purposely disarm you, though it still has that effect on you.

“Where do we go from here though?”

“I guess we’ll have to work that out. Maybe we can discuss it if you let me take you out tomorrow?” He asks, eyes darting over your face for an answer.

Excitement crackles through you, electricity rippling through your head to the end of your fingertips. A smile rises on your face, and you can see the relief flow through Jimin.

“I’d love to.”

“Perfect. Now, let’s go and rub in the guy’s faces how well we’re getting on.” He laughs, his eyes crinkling.

He kisses you one last time, hard and fast, satiated for now. With that you finally separate, Pulling your clothes back on before facing each other again.

The shirt felt big now. Too big.

You couldn’t get close enough to him. You both head for the door when you feel Jimin’s fingers interlock with yours. Your entire body flushes as you open the door to the bedroom, the wall of heat from the house hitting you both.

You’re both undeterred though, determined to find your friends. You pull him down the stairs, not caring at who stares at you both in the sickly shirt. The house felt hotter, a visible mist descending over the sea of people.

You find them where they last left you, congregating around the couch. When you stop in front of them with Jimin in tow, they all take it upon themselves to scrutinise you. It was quiet for a long while, and you could feel your resolve buckling. You didn’t want them to see through you, see what happened. But you wanted them to know that things would be okay. For all of you.

You can only imagine how you looked. Out of breath and flustered, both of your hair messy and fully damp. They couldn’t see your hands knotted together inside the shirt, but they didn’t need to. The demeanor change between you both must have been glaringly obvious.

“How’s it going?” Namjoon asks, glaring between you.

“Good, we, uh. We’re getting on. Yeah.” you smile awkwardly, completely lost on why you were being so suspicious. You had more guts than that!

“That was smooth.” Jimin grins. He was worlds away from you, utterly content and calm.

“Oh my god, shut up.” You roll your eyes, but give his hands an extra squeeze under the shirt.

“Where have you guys been? I haven’t seen you all night.” Jungkook asks with wide innocent eyes, and for a moment you feel like if he knew what had just been happening he would have been tainted.

“Oh, just… exploring.” Jimin smirks, and you fight the urge to pinch him. Who knew this would go to his head?

Well, you knew. You shouldn’t be surprised at all.

“About time.” Jin sighs, eyes still glued to his phone. The others laugh and throw in their agreements.

“What?” you and Jimin both yell, eyes scanning your ‘friends’ suspiciously.

“We knew you both liked each other. It got a bit weird towards the end there but we knew you’d work it out - or Namjoon would.” Hoseok shrugs, but his face is bright as he grins at you both.

“The shirt was a bit of a, well… drastic option.” Namjoon's smile was crooked, but his eyes were bright as he grinned at you.

“Oh… I don’t know what to say.” You murmur, heat creeping across your face again.

Jimin, however, throws his head back and laughs, slapping a hand on his chest for good measure. You stare up at him in shock, but you can’t help the smile that grows on your face. He was infectious. And your friends understood. You feel a tightness unfurl in your stomach.

“Well, it worked out. It worked out really well. I mean just so so good-”

“Jimin, shut up!”  You gasp, eyes wide as he winks at Namjoon.

Well, it’s good to know that the fire is still there between you. He was still impossibly infuriating and unendingly Jimin - but it was all for you. And it was only the start.

“Sorry baby.” He whispers as he lets go of your hand to wrap his arm around your waist pulling you into his side. You flush at the move in front of the others, but easily melt into his side. You had been waiting for this, after all.

“I’m glad.” smiles Namjoon, warm eyes flicking over you both in the stained and rumpled ugly item of clothing. “Maybe we should burn the shirt, though. Just for hygienic reasons.”