#multiple of the boys in one day! wow

[blue-eli]

Ink October day 3: Sophistry

An argument that seems plausible, but is fallacious or misleading, especially one devised deliberately to be so.

[icewindandboringhorror]

just a few little bits from the past few days

[muninnhuginn]

thought I'd compile a list of some of the current dangling threads we have in link click. specifically, going to ignore the ones that others have gone into detail exploring and just bring up the ones that haven't gotten as much attention but will almost certainly be relevant.

the missing files on the seventh victim of the serial murders from season one. emma was noted as 'victim one' in the files and there were eight in total. if these killings were done by red eyes then all we know of the victim profiles is that they're not seen to be 'innocent' in the culprit's eyes (ofc, we can only speculate what that means, but I'm currently gunning on it being some form of bystander to crime just going by themes*/what we know of emma/the fact the police struggled to find a uniting motive) and there's no set age/gender being specifically targeted. the killer's methods are said to be 'meticulous' (big qian jin vibes there ngl even if the motive part of it doesn't seem to obviously align). anyway, missing files implies an inside job and timing-wise it's unclear if that means qian jin or if chen bin was somehow involved. chen bin apparently was the last to handle the files before passing them to xiao li, but at the same time he doesn't react in a particularly guilty manner when xiao li asks of the missing file. meanwhile, qian jin would have left the force before these killings started but I'm sure he still had plenty of connections left in the force. either way, the seventh victim has been hidden for a reason. knowing what was in that file should lead to a breakthrough of some sort.

liu min's younger brother mentioned in the first two episodes of season two. said to be the more favoured of the two siblings and hasn't yet officially entered the game, but just from law of conservation of detail I think he is going to be a player because why even bring him up when liu min is already dead.

li tianxi's mutism and subsequent abilities of speech as a teenager. the mutism and later explanation are both such deliberate details to include. I don't know for sure what the answer is, but I do think the idea of tianchen or someone else possessing tianxi is a possibility given we know that possession overrides certain physical traits. cxs even explicitly confirmed that this would include mutism when he spoke as tianxi in his dive. it could also be that tianchen is literally dressed as tianxi and is using the mask to help disguise this fact. or tianxi could be tianxi. but whatever the case, I do think the mutism is a relevant point to return to. (also, in s2e4 it looks like the sibling with the messy fringe (tianchen?) doesn't speak. unsure if this is to hide that there were multiples and we just didn't hear the speech but ig it does add to the option that tianchen and tianxi have swapped bodies entirely)

fountain boy. I know I said I'd avoid the stuff that's already been explored but this is such an obvious thing that *will* come back. my intuition says that the fact they picked such an adult sounding voice actor means the character hasn't yet been formally introduced and will appear later (and so opens up the possibilities of hat guy/liu min's brother etc) but that's purely on a meta level. within the story itself it could be almost any male character sans cheng xiaoshi.

Liu Min's phone, taken by Li Tianchen(? - going by the fringe but not confident of this) without Qian Jin's oversight. Does this mean Tianxi is working with Qian Jin whilst Tianchen is double-crossing? Either way, these three are not all in it together. They have some shared motives but ultimately their own agendas.

*themes here meaning qiao ling's big regret re: doudou was that she saw someone leave with him and said nothing. emma's only 'crime' was that she knew of the financial irregularities but didn't speak up. li tianchen saying about people pretending to be nice but secretly are jerks are the worst. my other idea is 'people the law won't punish' because qian jin's backstory (vigilante justice type deal also kinda fitting the themes) especially as the murderer who killed his wife later 'committed suicide' and it was mentioned that several of the meticulous killings were initially mistaken for suicides. anyway, I'll fully admit I'm running on vibes for this as speculation and am fully open to there being another theme tying together the victims.

[suiana]

✎ yandere! mean boy . . .

✎ yandere! mean boy who's one of the most popular guys in the entire university. he's hot, smart, rich... he was perfect! ...but of course, he had a bad side to him as well. a side that you knew too well but others didn't. have i mentioned that he's only mean to you?

✎ yandere! mean boy who makes your university life as hard as he can. from minor inconveniences like bumping into you, to trying to ruin your reputation by gossiping about you to his friends. you're starting to wonder if he likes you? i mean, why else would he do this? you're not even in the same major! spoiler alert, he does like you. wow, who knew 🤯 ps, his friends are annoyed whenever he brings you up because once he starts talking about you he can't stop 💀

✎ yandere! mean boy who is very obviously in love with you. yeah, sure he might try to ruin your life but... he also spoils you! i mean, don't you see those gifts he left in your room? the new outfits in your closet? or the way your grades suddenly rose? that's all him! so... you should fall for him too now, right? boy is delusional 🔥🔥

✎ yandere! mean boy who's completely obsessed with you. unfortunately, poor fella doesn't know how to process his feelings and only shows disdain to you openly. if only you knew of the way his heart quickens every time you glance at him, or the way he jerks off to you to the numerous pictures he secretly took which are plastered on the walls of his mansion... he's such an idiot! when all he wants to do is worship you, he insults you instead :( not to worry... he'll be openly worshipping you soon enough. soon...

"watch your step."

he hisses as he glares at you. you only roll your eyes, continuing on your way to your lecture hall as you text your friend. seriously, this day was already bad and he just had to be here to worsen it? what luck you had.

you quicken your pace, trying to get to your location faster which only resulted in the university's mean boy (correction, he's only mean to you, so he's a secret mean boy) scowling and stomping right over to you.

"i said, watch your step!"

he yells out, grabbing your shoulder roughly as he turns around to face you. his hands shake slightly, still gripping onto your shoulder as his cheeks brun red. was it from anger or embarrassment? you'd never know. all he ever shows you is his disdain after all.

you stare at him with an irritated expression, eyeing him up and down before apologizing half-heartedly.

"sorry."

you then try shrugging his hand off you, clearly more annoyed than worried as the male continues to stare at you with an unreadable expression. cheeks flushed as he roughly takes his hand away before stomping off like an angry child. you merely shake your head at his actions. what a drama king he was.

jeez, he really is weird. always targeting you, and you only... what did you even do to get on his nerves? all you wanted was a peaceful university life! with good grades and a nice set of friends, and maybe even a lover if you were lucky! but no, he just had to have it out for you every. single. day.

and yet, he always seems to have a red flush on his cheeks whenever he does so. and the multiple times you've passed his friend group he always seems to be talking about you. is he bipolar? does he secretly like you? is he a tsundere?

you grumble slightly as you quickly rush off to your lecture. damn, he made you late. what an annoying guy.

meanwhile, your secret mean boy was struggling to contain his screams as he hid behind a wall after stomping off. with laboured breaths, flushed cheeks and hearts for pupils, he giggled like a patient from the mental hospital.

ah..! you touched him! touched him! if he imagines hard enough, he can pretend you're gently carressing him! that you're looking at him just like he looks at you!

he shakily stares at the hand you swatted away, smile errily wide as soft giggles escape him. ah, you're so cute when you look at him like that... when you look at him in irritation... would you look like that when he exposes the fact that he loves you? or when you're married and he accidentally burns his food? would you push him away and quickly cook up another meal?

he giggles like a high school girl in love, breathing growing increasingly erratic as he places both his hands over his chest.

ah...

he wants to touch you again.

he wants to see more of your expressions.

he wants you.

and he will have you.

whether you like it or not.

[harrysfolklore]

the carlos sainz roast

summary: it's carlos' 30th birthday and what a better way to celebrate it than roasting him. wc: 2.8k

folkie radio: happy birthday to the smooooth operatorrrrr. i hontesly LOVED this idea that randomly popped in my head and writing it was sooo much fun, i hope you like it !

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

Carlos Sainz was turning 30. The big 30.

You wanted to do something special to celebrate it, something out of the ordinary that he would never forget. After spending multiple hours on the internet looking for ideas, a brilliant one came to your mind: A roast.

"So all of you will take turns roasting me? Like making jokes about me?" Carlos asked, looking at you from the couch as you pitched him your idea.

"Exactly, baby, It's going to be so much fun!"

The next few weeks flew by in a whirlwind of preparations. You sent out invitations, coordinated with the other drivers, and gathered embarrassing photos and funny stories about Carlos.

The night of the roast, you transformed your living room into a makeshift comedy club, complete with a small stage and a spotlight. Each driver that arrived at your house complimenting your effort.

As everyone settled into their seats, you stood up and tapped your glass with a spoon to get their attention.

"Welcome, everyone, to the Carlos Sainz Roast!" you announced, catching Carlos's eye and winking at him. "We're all here to celebrate the man, the myth, the legend... the one who always leaves the toothpaste open - Carlos Sainz Jr. on his 30th birthday. And what better way to show our love than by mercilessly making fun of him?"

Laughter rippled through your friends as Carlos playfully rolled his eyes, "Thank you, amor, that's very nice of you."

You playfully blew a kiss his way before speaking again, "Now, before we start, let's remember the rules: keep it funny, keep it respectful, and try to speak slowly so Max can understand." You shot a teasing glance at Verstappen, who grinned and shook his head.

"First up, we have Charles Leclerc, Carlos's teammate and the only person who can make Carlos look slow on a good day. Charles, the floor is yours!"

Charles stood up, straightening his jacket as he approached the makeshift stage. He cleared his throat dramatically, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Thank you for that introduction," Charles began, "You know, when I first heard Carlos was joining Ferrari, I was excited. Finally, someone to make me look good! But then I realized, with his luscious hair and chiseled jaw, he was going to steal all my sponsorship deals. So I had to step up my game."

The room erupted in laughter, Carlos included.

"But seriously," Charles continued, "working with Carlos has been an experience. He's like a Spanish version of Google Maps – always recalculating, never quite sure where he's going, but somehow ends up in the right place eventually. That's why I had no doubt in my mind he was going to find an amazing car to drive next season, my bet was on the Safety Car but he opted for an even slower car, a Williams!"

Everyone erupted in laugh again, making Carlos shake his head with his eyes closed, "That one was low, Leclerc."

Charles took a moment to catch his breath, then added with a grin, “And Carlos, now that you’re 30, you’re officially a veteran in the sport. But don’t worry, no matter how many years go by, you’ll always be the guy who can make a Ferrari look like it's in a constant state of panic. Cheers to you, mate!”

You grinned at Charles as he stepped down, patting Carlos on the shoulder. "Alright, that was pretty good, Charles," you said, "But let's see if Lando can top that. Norris, you're up!"

Lando bounded up to the makeshift stage, his trademark cheeky grin plastered across his face. He adjusted the microphone, clearing his throat dramatically.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the birthday boy, Carlos 'Smooth Operator' Sainz," Lando began, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You know, when I first met Carlos at McLaren, I thought, 'Wow, this guy's got it all – talent, looks, charm.' Then I realized it was just his hair products messing with my senses."

The crowd burst into laughter, Carlos included, you ran a hand through his famous locks and he gently grabbed it to place a kiss on your palm.

"If I'm being completely honest," Lando continued, "Carlos taught me so much during our time as teammates. Like how to perfectly time a dad joke in team radio, or how to look devastatingly handsome while finishing P7. Essential skills in F1, really."

The room erupted in laughter once again, with Carlos shaking his head in amused disbelief.

"Carlos, you're one of my best friends," Lando's tone softened slightly, "Even if you did spend most of our time together trying to teach me Spanish pickup lines that work about as well as Ferrari's strategy team."

"But I have a girlfriend and you don't, mate. Even with my bad pickup lines." Carlos jabbed, making you throw your head back in laughter.

As the laughter died down, Lando raised his glass. "To Carlos, the man who proves that you can be devastatingly handsome, irritatingly talented, and still somehow likeable. Happy 30th, mate. May your midlife crisis be as smooth as your overtakes."

Lando stepped down from the stage, approaching Carlos who stood up from his seat to give him a hug.

"Love you, mate," you could hear Carlos say, making you smile.

"Next up, we have Fernando Alonso, Carlos's longtime mentor and fellow Spaniard!" you announced, making everybody clap as Fernando took the stage.

"Ah, Carlos. I've known him since he was just a little karting prodigy. Back then, I thought, 'This kid's going places.' Now, 20 years later, I realize I was right – he's gone to every midfield team on the grid!"

The crowd roared with laughter as Fernando continued, "But seriously, I always thought Carlos had potential, and I was right, he's got the potential to be the second-best Sainz in Motorsports!"

Carlos playfully rolled his eyes, taking a sip from his drink.

"But let me tell you something, Carlos," Fernando's tone softened slightly, "You've made all of Spain proud. You've shown that with hard work, talent, and a famous last name, anything is possible in F1. Well, almost anything, winning a championship might still be a stretch!"

As the laughter died down, Fernando raised his glass. "To Carlos Sainz Jr., the man who proves that you can be a great driver, a fan favorite, and still be overshadowed by your dad at family dinners. Feliz cumpleaños, amigo!"

Fernando stepped down from the stage, approaching Carlos who stood up to give him a warm, laughing embrace. As they parted, you stood up to introduce the next roaster.

"Now, let's hear from someone who's known Carlos since their early days in Formula 1. Please welcome to the stage, the reigning world champion and certified cat lover, Max Verstappen!"

Max sauntered up to the stage, he adjusted the mic and grinned at Carlos.

"If it isn't the new old man of the grid," Max began, earning chuckles from the crowd. "You know, Carlos and I go way back to our Toro Rosso days. I remember when we first met, I thought, 'Wow, this guy's got great hair.' Then I realized that's all he's got!" everyone laughed once again, "Back at Toro Rosso, Carlos was always so dedicated. He'd spend hours studying my telemetry, trying to figure out how to be as fast as me. Spoiler alert: he's still trying!"

The crowd roared with laughter, Carlos included, as he playfully threw a napkin at Max.

"But in all seriousness, Carlos," Max continued with a grin, "you've always been one of the most hardworking and determined drivers on the grid. You never give up, no matter how many times you've been dropped by your teams mid season."

Carlos laughed, raising his glass to Max in a mock toast. "Thanks for the reminder, Max."

"Carlos, you're one of the best guys in the paddock. With your resting bitch face and all, you're always there with a helping hand. Even if your driving skills are debatable," he added with a wink. "Happy 30th, mate."

Max stepped down, and Carlos stood up to give him a hug, both of them laughing. You took the mic once more, "Thank you, Max, for that trip down memory lane. Now, let's welcome to the stage a man who's known for his infectious smile and his matchmaking skills. Please give it up for Daniel Ricciardo!"

Daniel bounded onto the stage with his characteristic enthusiasm, flashing his famous grin.

"G'day, everyone! Carlos, mate, happy birthday!" Daniel began, "You know, I've known Carlos for years, but my proudest achievement was introducing him to his lovely girlfriend, YN," you smiled at this, feeling Carlos squeeze your hand, "I thought to myself, 'This bloke needs someone who can put up with his golf obsession and his constant need for mirror checks.' And boy, did I deliver!"

The crowd erupted in laughter, with you and Carlos exchanging amused glances.

"I remember the day I introduced them," Daniel continued, "I told YN, 'Look, he's a great guy, but be prepared for endless conversations about tyre management and the perfect hair product.' Little did I know, she'd be nodding along enthusiastically!"

You playfully rolled your eyes as the audience chuckled.

"But seriously, folks," Daniel's tone softened slightly, "watching these two together is like watching a perfect pit stop - smooth, efficient, and occasionally involves someone getting sprayed with champagne."

Carlos pulled you closer, placing a kiss on your cheek as everyone 'aww'ed.

"Carlos, mate," Daniel concluded, raising his glass, "you've found yourself a keeper. Someone who can navigate your mood swings faster than you navigate Eau Rouge. YN, love, you've got yourself a man who's smoother than a freshly paved track... at least when he's not tripping over his own feet trying to impress you."

Daniel stepped down from the stage, approaching you and Carlos. You both stood up, enveloping him in a group hug, all three of you laughing and thanking him for his words.

"Alright, that was brilliant, Daniel. Now, let’s hear from let's hear from someone who's about to get very familiar with Carlos's driving quirks. Please welcome to the stage, Carlos's new future teammate, Alex Albon!"

Alex strode up to the stage with a playful grin, adjusting the microphone as he faced the audience.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my new teammate, Carlos Sainz," Alex began, "You know, when I heard Carlos was joining Williams, I thought, 'Great, someone to help push the team forward!' Then I remembered his time at Ferrari and realized he's just as confused about strategy as the rest of us."

The room erupted in laughter, with Carlos good-naturedly shaking his head.

"But seriously, Carlos," Alex continued, "I'm excited to work with you. I mean, who wouldn't want a teammate who's been through more teams than I've had podiums? Toro Rosso, Renault, McLaren, Ferrari... Williams is just the latest stop on the Carlos Sainz World Tour, isn't it?"

Carlos raised his glass in mock salute, chuckling along with the audience.

"I have to say, though, I'm a bit worried," Alex said, feigning concern. "I've seen how competitive you are, Carlos. I just hope you remember that at Williams, we're usually racing against the clock, not other cars. But hey, at least you'll always beat the safety car... probably."

"You know, Carlos, I just realized we have something else in common besides our great hair and questionable career choices. We're both proud members of the 'No Appendix Club'!"

The room burst into laughter, with Carlos nodding in amused agreement.

"That's right, folks," Alex continued, "Carlos and I have both had our appendixes removed. I like to think it makes us more aerodynamic, but let's be honest, in Carlos's case, it's probably just made room for more hair product."

Carlos playfully patted his hair, eliciting more chuckles from the audience.

"But seriously," Alex said, "I suppose this means we're perfectly matched as teammates. We're both down an organ, so when Williams inevitably asks us to give 100%, we can honestly say we're already giving everything we've got - minus an appendix, of course! Happy birthday, teammate, here's to a season of driving a tractor, but at least we'll be together."

Alex stepped down from the stage and approached Carlos, who stood up to give him a hug patting his back.

"Now, let's welcome to the stage a man who needs no introduction, but I'll give him one anyway. Seven-time world champion and fashion icon, Lewis Hamilton!" you said and everyone clapped.

Lewis sauntered up to the stage with his characteristic cool demeanor. "Carlos, my man," he began, "I've got to hand it to you. You've had quite the career. Toro Rosso, Renault, McLaren, Ferrari, next year Williams, it's like you're collecting team merchandise,"Lewis grinned mischievously as he continued, "You know, Carlos, I've got to thank you. You've done such a great job warming up that Ferrari seat for me. It's like you were my personal seat heater all along!"

The crowd roared with laughter as Carlos playfully buried his face in his hands, and you rubbed his back comfortingly while chuckling.

"But seriously," Lewis continued with a grin, "You've made that Ferrari seat look good. I just hope I can live up to your legacy of looking devastatingly handsome while trying to figure out what on earth the pit wall is thinking."

Carlos laughed, shaking his head in mock despair. "Thanks, Lewis. I appreciate the… kind words."

"You know, Carlos, I've always admired your ability to stay positive," Lewis continued his roast, "No matter how many times you've been dropped from teams, you always manage to smile for the cameras. It's like you've mastered the art of looking happy while screaming internally. I'm taking notes mate!"

After a few more jabs Lewis concluded his roast, several other drivers took their turns at the mic, each adding their own flavor to the celebration. George joked about Carlos's infamous beach photos, Pierre told some stories about their Toro Rosso days and even Oscar joked about being surprised about being invited since him and Carlos always push each other off the track.

Finally, it was your turn. You stood up, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness as you approached the stage. Carlos looked at you with a huge smile.

"Well, well, well," you began, locking eyes with Carlos, "what can I say about Carlos Sainz that hasn't already been said? He's talented, he's handsome, and he's the only man I know who spends more time on his hair than I do."

The room filled with laughter as Carlos nodded in mock pride.

"But seriously, living with Carlos is an adventure," you continued, "He's always talking about smooth operations, but let me tell you, there's nothing smooth about the way he leaves his socks all over the house. It's like living in a minefield of sweaty foot prisons."

Carlos threw his head back in laughter along with the rest of the guests.

"And don't even get me started on his competitiveness. Everything's a race with this guy. Brushing teeth? Race. Getting dressed? Race. I'm surprised he hasn't tried to overtake me in bed yet!"

The room erupted in cheers and wolf whistles as Carlos turned a shade of red.

"But in all seriousness," your voice softened, "Carlos, you're the most incredible person I know. You're kind, passionate, and you never give up, whether it's on the track or trying to convince me that paella is a breakfast food."

You raised your glass, "To Carlos, the love of my life and the smoothest operator I know. Happy 30th birthday, mi amor. May your future be as bright as your smile and your pit stops be faster than your hair routine."

As you finished, Carlos stood up, his eyes shining with laughter and love. He pulled you into a tight embrace as the room filled with applause and cheers.

"I love you so much," he whispered into your ear, kissing your temple softly.

"Well, folks, I think we've successfully roasted Carlos to a crisp," you said with a grin. "But before we wrap up, I think it's only fair that the birthday boy gets a chance to respond. Carlos, amor, the floor is yours!"

"Wow," he began, his accent thicker than usual, "I'm not sure whether to feel honored or insulted. But I guess that's the point of a roast, right?" He paused as chuckles rippled through the room. "First off, I want to thank all of you for being here. It means a lot that you'd all take time out of your busy schedules to come and insult me."

Carlos thanked each of his friends with a blend of humor and sincerity, making everyone laugh. He playfully teased Charles about making him look good on track, jested with Lando about the success of his Spanish pickup lines with you, and expressed gratitude to Fernando for his mentorship while vowing to become the best Sainz in motorsports.

"And finally, to my beautiful girlfriend," Carlos's voice softened as he looked at you, "Thank you for organizing this amazing night, and for putting up with me every day. You're the real smooth operator here."

The room erupted in cheers and applause as Carlos stepped down from the stage. You met him halfway, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug once again.

"Happy birthday, amor," you whispered in his ear, pulling away to kiss him softly.

[alastor-simp]

Caught In The Fluff - Angel Dust X Reader

Its time to write for the hot spider now. Enjoy Everyone!

It was a slow day in hotel today. Compared to the ongoing chaos that usually happens with either fights or Sir Pentious blowing up a portion of the building with his inventions, it was a normal chill day. Laying on the couch in the lobby, your eyes roamed around the room and gazed at the other residents, as staring at your cell phone was not aiding with your boredom. Charlie and Vaggie happened to be constructing more advertisements for the hotel, as the table was covered with glitter and colorful stickers, yep this was definitely all Charlie's idea, but watching her and Vaggie being couple goals was wholesome. Husk was shuffling a bunch of cards in his hands, wearing a smile for once while Niffty was watching him in awe, eye sparkling with amazement. Alastor resided in the chair next to yours, humming a catchy tune as his focus was drawn to the newspaper in his hands. Sir Pentious was in the corner of his room, assembling a puzzle as his Egg Bois were watching and helping him look for the proper pieces. After scanning the room a bit more, there was a lack of a porn-star demon in the room. Odd? Usually Angel would be flamboyantly chatting away, which caused many eyes to roll at his antics, well, mostly Vaggie and Husk. Slowly rising from the couch, you waved your hand in front of the two females in front of you, hoping to draw their attention. "Yes, Y/N? Is something wrong?" Charlie said, looking up at you with a bright smile, while her hair was covered in pink glitter and some traces of crayons on her red-dotted cheeks. "Sorry for bothering you while working on your project, but have you seen Angel since this morning?" Worried eyes stared at Charlies as you saw her smile fall and she shook her head no. Vaggie, on the other hand, was quick to answer your question, clear frustration on her face. "That estúpido is probably still sleeping the day away in his room! UGH! You think he get off his lazy a** and help around a bit!" Vaggie blared out, drawing the attention of the others in the lobby before continuing with their activities.

A cough was heard next to you, as Alastor had folded the newspaper on his lap, before looking at the three of us. "Now my dear Vaggie! While I don't approve of many of Angel's antics! He does work for another employer! So while he may not be pitching in with this ridiculous redemption process! He certainly has his hands full with other business!" Wow, you weren't expecting Alastor to defend Angel a bit. Maybe he does care about the others a bit, despite his enormous ego. Vaggie's eyes glared with rage at Alastor, probably for jumping into the conversation when nobody asked for his opinion, but she relaxed once she felt a soft hand touch her shoulder. Thinking more about it, you remembered that Angel had to work for the gross moth guy, Valentino. That man was so creepy and his actions towards Angel made you sick to your stomach. Honestly if you were as strong as Alastor, that man's head would be mounted on the wall. But, Angel has been in his room since 8 AM. He didn't even have breakfast. "I'll go bring him some food and check on him" You announced, as you got up from the couch and started to head to the kitchen. The sounds of tap shoes appeared from behind you, as you turned and realized Alastor was following behind you! "AH! I will help you my dear!" His smile was outstretched across his face, while he walked with a slight jump in his step and hands folded behind his back. Smiling back at Al, you both headed to the kitchen to make something for Angel.

Angel was Italian from what you recalled during one of your conversations as he was ranting about a client and calling them multiple Italian curse words. Deciding on an Italian dish for him, both you and Alastor agreed to make some Penne Alla Vodka. Alastor was helping with the vodka sauce, adding in the tomato paste and crushed pepper flakes while you were cooking the pasta to al dente. Gazing at the pasta cooking, your thoughts wondered back to what Al said in the lobby. "Um, Alastor?" You asked, while your hands kept stirring the pasta in the pot. Alastor was humming a tune, before he stopped and gazed at you, listening to what you had to say. "Thanks for what you said back there about Angel." Softly gazing at him, Al continued to stare at you, his signature smile dropping down to a soft one. "He is a valuable patron of this establishment! While I don't really care much about him and the others, I prefer him more when he is in a jovial mood then a depressed one!" Alastor answered with an aloff attitude, yet you could see in his red eyes that he somewhat cared about Angel, despite his strong dislike of him always attempting to get touchy with him. Focusing more on Al and leaving the pasta for a minute to continue boiling, your feet carried you over to where Alastor stood. "I assume you say you don't care because of your reputation, yet here you are cooking a meal for Angel Dust with me. Seems like your actions contradict your words Alastor." Silence filled the kitchen as both you and Alastor were having a stare-off, wondering which one would speak first. Crimson eyes gazed into yours, as they glanced down back to the cooking sauce.

Maybe you overstepped it a bit. Stepping back from your position, you eyed the pasta pot that you left unattended. A warm hand had caught your wrist before you could leave, and you turned to see Alastor gazing at you, smile still prominent yet his eyes were stern. "Angel my dear, is under contract with one of the three V's, Valentino! I don't know or care about how he conducts his business! However! His actions towards Angel are something I do not particularly enjoy! While watching the scum of hell suffer through torment and despair is quite enjoyable. Seeing Angel suffering from that p̸̨͎̏͜i̶̛̼͉̚g̵̢̒̓ ̴͓͓̂͊̐m̵̟̔̑̌ỏ̶͎̻͇͝ṭ̵͆̂̈́ḥ̸̱͌ ̷͍̫̰̉ȯ̵̲̙͍͒ü̷̧̗ͅț̸̜̟̆͂r̶̯͌a̴̜͆̽g̵̩̓̍̾ē̴͎̪̚s̴͍͍͇̒ ̷̬̣͊̃̋ḿ̸̦̞̥e̷͕̋!” Radio dials flickered on Alastors face for a split second, then turning back to normal . Observing all of this through your eyes, you apologized to Al if you spoke out of turn, but your apology was cut off when the hand on your wrist made its way to your cheek. Alastor said there was no need for apologies, and gestured back to cooking the meal, as burnt pasta wouldn't be very appetizing for Angel. The both of you stood back at your pasta creation, feeling proud that it looked incredible. With a snap of his fingers, the plate was then transported on a tray and topped with a metal cover. Alastor picked up the tray and handed it to you. "Run along now my dear!" Two hands were placed on your back, as they pushed you out of the kitchen, and leaving you alone with the tray in your hands.

Heading over to Angel's room, you knocked on the door and called out his name. No response was given back, so you tried to open the door. Surprisingly the door was unlocked and you made your way inside. Angel's room was shrouded in a neon pink glow. Numerous posters covered the walls, and various clothes and wigs were scattered all over the room. His room smelled like sweet cotton candy along with smoke that was coming from the ash tray. In the corner of the room was Fat Nuggets, Angels pet pig. It was sleeping on its back, while covered in a soft pink blanket. Next to the small bed was the large queen sized bed that a certain spider was laying on. The blanket was half off the bed, leaving some part of Angels legs uncovered while his back was facing you. Placing the tray near the nightstand, you slowly approached Angel and placed your hand on his shoulder. Calling out his name and giving him a little shake had no effect on him as he continued to sleep. "Angel? Come on. Wake up. Me and Al made you some food." Angel still remained asleep. "Angel. The food will get co-" Your words were interrupted as four pairs of arms grabbed you and pulled you closer. Your face landed in something fluffy, as you realized that Angel had pulled you into his fluffy chest, and his legs began to wrap around you, locking you in place. "Mmph! Angel!" Calling out his name, you tried to remove yourself from the fluffiness, but Angels arms were holding you in place. "Oh~! Do it harder!" Angel was sleep talking, as he squeezed you tighter like a plushie. Great! He's hugging you while having a dirty dream. Wiggling a bit more, you realized that Angel wasn't wearing a shirt. Oh lord! Please tell me hes wearing pants at least. Luckily you looked down and saw that he was thankfully wearing underwear. You couldn't imagine the awkward situation if he was fully naked and hugging you like this.

Trying to move one of your hands, you resorted to poking Angel's belly, seeing if that would be able to wake him up. Angel soon let out a groan and began to slowly wake up. "Ughhhh. Huh?" Angel was slowly beginning to realize he was holding someone. Looking down, he saw you wrapped in his arms, face full of his chest fluff. "Heh~ Heya toots~. Were ya that desperate for my services~?" Angel wiggled his eyebrows at you, as he continued to smirk at you. Moving your head a bit from the fluff, you shook your head no. "I came to see if you were okay? You have been sleeping since the morning and missed breakfast. The others and me were worried. Alastor and I also made you some pasta to eat." Angel's smirk quickly disappeared and he looked at you in shock, before gazing at the clock on the wall, which read 2:34 PM. Damn he slept for that long? Figures after all the services he had to perform at Valentino's club. His body was tired out and his mental state deteriorated a lot yesterday. He was honestly surprised that the others actually gave a f*** about him, and wanted to see how he was doing. He ain't use to all that mushy s***. Still it warmed his heart a bit. Heaving a sigh, Angel slowly released you, allowing you to moved and stand back up next to the bed. The blanket was still covering his lower body as he began to sit up on the bed. "Had a busy day last night toots. Lot of pole dancing and what not." Angel moved his hair fluff with his hands, attempting to soothe the hairs that were out of place. He was still smiling, but the sadness in his eyes was visible. He was exhausted beyond belief and you knew who was to blame for that. Moving your hand towards him, you placed it on his cheek, startling him a bit as he stared at you confused. "Are you really okay?" Your voiced was laced with concern, as you continued to stare at Angel, waiting for him to respond. "Pfft! I'm fine toots! Doing all that dirty stuff is no problem for me given my amazing stamina~. Hell! I could last a whole day and wouldn't break a sweat! HAHAHAHA!" He was putting on an act. You could tell based on how he was smiling that he was forcing it. "Angel. Don't lie to me." Your voice raised a bit higher, letting Angel know you were being serious. Angel caught on to that and removed your hand from his cheek. "What the f*** is your problem, toots? I told ya I'm fine so deal with it." His face turned away from you, as he waved his hands at you, telling you to piss off. That was the last straw.

Grabbing both of his cheeks, you pulled his face to look back at yours, as his eyes were filled with shock. "YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY NOT FINE! STOP LYING TO ME AND TELL ME THE WHOLE TRUTH! Anger filled your eyes as you continued to stare into Angels own. His multicolored irises continued to gaze at you, as his mouth was left agape. Slowly, those eyes staring back at you began to fill with tears. Seeing his tears, you pulled Angel closer to you, and placed his head on your chest, hugging him close to you. His body moved off the bed, to where he was standing on his knees, and his arms wrapped around you tightly, almost as if you would disappear in front of him. He was bawling his eyes out on your chest. You hugged him closer and moved one of your hands to his hair, patting his white floof. The both of you stayed like that for a full 5 minutes before Angel's loud bawls slowly began to turn into soft sobs. Moving from his position, Angel moved his head a bit so he could look you in the eyes. "S-orry toots. I think I got your shirt wet." Chuckling, you patted his head and told him it was alright. Lifting him up from his position, you carried him back to sit on the bed. Grabbing the plate from under the tray, you walked back and sat on the bed and handed Angel the plate. "Its penne al vodka. I remembered that you liked Italian food so me and Al whipped this up for you. Wiping the tears on his face, Angel grabbed the plate and stared at it, before looking back at you with a soft smile. "Heh, if Smiles and you made this together, its going to taste incredible." You continued to watch Angel as he slowly began to eat the pasta, mumbling how good it was with his mouth full. Once he finished, you grabbed the plate and placed it back on the night stand, and returned back to Angel. Grabbing a napkin as well, you cleaned his mouth to help remove the extra sauce that remained there. Angel's face actually turned a shade of red at your actions. Damn, how sweet can you be?

"You feeling a bit better? Want to head down to the lobby?" You asked Angel, as you stood in front of him, smiling kindly at him. His eyes turned to the ceiling in thought, contemplating it. "Hmmm~ Nah~!" Angels arms surrounded you again, as he pulled you back towards him. His back hit the bed while his head was cushioned by the soft pillows while you were placed on top of him, right back into his chest fluff. "What?! Angel?!" Mumbling into this chest floof, you tried to push yourself off, but his arms had you trapped again, and he tangled his legs with yours. His eyes were gazing at with mischievously, and his sharp-tooth smile was in front of your eyes. "Come on, toots. Ya never had a lazy day before? Ain't against the law to sleep all day." Angel squeezed you closer, pushing your face more into his chest fluff. My lord, he was so soft! Not only was he soft, but he smelled amazing. You were going to get addicted to this. Seeing you stop resisting, Angel continued to smile down at you, as he moved one of his arms to pat your head. "Ya should consider yourself lucky! Not everyone gets to experience my chest fluff service~. Ya should enjoy it while it last toots~." Winking down at you, Angel continued to smiled down at you, as you felt your face heat up while laying on his chest. You continued to stare at him, and saw that he actually looked a lot better, as his eyes were a bit brighter and the smile on his face seemed more genuine. Your eyes were slowly beginning to close as the sensation of Angel patting your head and his cozy fluff was making you sleepy. Pretty soon, your eyes drew to a close and you fell into a deep slumber. Angel watched as you had fallen asleep, before bending his head down, to give you a peck on the forehead, before placing his head back on the pillow. "Thanks, y/n." He whispered to himself, as he squeezed you a bit more, and went back to sleep.

Peeping through the crack in the door, Charlie and the others had seen the whole thing. Charlie was hopping up and down, like a rabbit as her eyes were beaming with heart eyes. "Ohh! They are so cute!" Vaggie was shaking Charlie to try to get her to calm down, and also to lower her voice, so she wouldn't wake the both of you up. Husk was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, appearing not to care, but he did smile a bit at both you and Angel on the bed. Niffty was zipping back in forth in glee, matching Charlies energy. Sir Pentious was gazing at the both of you with a soft smile, while his Egg Bois were crying, finding the moment in front of them super sweet and adorable. Alastor was standing with his microphone in hand, smiling as always as he observed both you and Angel. Snapping his fingers, his powers had slowly closed Angels door and locked it. Looking back at the others, he placed his one finger against his mouth, letting out a quiet shush as he gestured for everyone to go back to the lobby and let the both of you rest.

Tagging-

@91062854-ka

[chanswhxre]

Channie's Room [Kinktober '24]

✩ kinktober masterlist ✩ requests ✩ kofi ✩ ao3

♡ Pairing : chan x afab! reader

♡ Genre : smut, daddy kink

♡ Word count : 2.5k words

♡ Warnings : 18+ nsfw, explicit sexual content. I will not put any more specific warnings to avoid spoiling the story. Read at your own risk!

❗️ minors, ageless, and blank blogs that will interact with me or my work will be BLOCKED.

September is almost ending, and nothing in your life seems to be going well. You have a job, but it isn't what you wanted in the first place but it pays well, though; you just broke up with your boyfriend of 2 years, you're getting kicked out of your old apartment for adopting a kitten, and when life couldn't get any worse, your cat just puked on your favorite rug just before you were about to pack it, you wanted to scream, but you didn't want to scare off your cat. You loved the little bugger even if he's a pain in the ass sometimes. You wanted to relax a bit before going back to packing, and you remembered it was Saturday night, and that only means one thing,

🔴 Channie's Room is now LIVE

You settled in with your comfortable clothes, your favorite drink, and, of course, your favorite toy. You got into the stream and saw him, only in a white, fitting tank top, camera stopping on his neck; he's got a new wolf scratch tattoo on his shoulder; shit makes him hotter than ever. 

"Hey everyone, it's your favorite Korean-aussie, Channie!" He greets, making hand gestures.

He seems awfully cute with his greetings. He takes his time to catch up with his viewers and greets his loyal patrons and generous tippers. You've been a patron for as long as you can remember, and you loved his genre. Even though he streams NSFW content, he makes you happy and giddy. You also know deep down that this guy looks good. 

"Oh wow, thanks for the tip, wanderingbae. I haven't even started yet." He giggled, and you could see his abs tense. You bit your lip wondering what he got in store for today's live.

"Tonight, I'm doing requests! I want to know what my baby girls and boys want to see for tonight. So let's open up my ngl." He giggled.

"Oh, baby girl asks if daddy can take his tank off and..wow you want to hear daddy whimper? Tell you how much he likes it and how bad he needs to cum?" How can this man go from cute to sexy in just a blink? He was giggling a few seconds ago, and now he's straight-up teasing.

This would be another Channie's room that surely won't fail to give you mind-blowing orgasms. Let the stream begin!

The following day, you filed for leave to facilitate your moving to a new apartment. You went later in the afternoon after you finished packing all your stuff. Your room was on the fourth floor, and it's just your luck that the elevator was being repaired for the day and would be fixed late in the evening.

"Great, just great." You sighed, looking at your things. You didn't really have a lot of stuff: two big suitcases of clothes and other necessities, a huge box for other essential life stuff such as kitchenware, your cat's things, and your cat carrier. How could you bring these to the fourth floor? Sure, multiple trips wouldn't be the problem, but the weight of what you're going to carry was the one you're worried about.

"Need some help?"

You turned to look at the man who spoke with a familiar voice, making you unconsciously drop your jaw at the gorgeous man in front of you.

"Oh, it's fine. I can wait for the uh elevator."

"Really? I heard it won't be fixed until late in the evening. What floor are you moving to?"

"Fourth, but really, I can wait. I don't want to bother you or anything, " you insisted.

"I live on the fourth floor, too! Nice to meet you, neighbor. My name is Chris." He smiled. You know you're not supposed to trust strangers, especially good-looking ones, but who cares about stranger danger if it's this man? You feel a good vibe from him, and besides, he probably lives next to your new apartment. Getting to know your neighbors is a good start.

"I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you, too."

"Let me help you carry these. I insist." He offered again.

"Are you sure? We're probably going to make a few trips up and down."

"I can handle it. Carry what you can, and I'll take care of the rest." He winked.

You carried what you could, and it was done in a flash. How did this guy carry all of it? How does he have so much stamina? He settled your things in the living room, and you thanked him for it. You asked him to stay so you could order food for him as another way of saying thank you, but he said he'd come over another time, and then you added that you could cook for him.

Settling into your new apartment was surprisingly easy, especially when your neighbor is very kind, not to mention eye candy. He gets along with your cat so well. You've shared a few conversations, and you have even invited him over for dinner sometimes or just to hang out, and he would be totally down for it. You've spent quite some time together for a month already, and you'd be a liar if you didn't say you hadn't had a single dirty thought about this man.

"Cool tattoo you got there." You complimented him on the wolf scratch tattoo on his arm. It's the first time you're seeing it since he rarely wears a muscle tee or tank top outside since it's cold. It looked oddly familiar, though.

"Thanks." He smiled.

It was your first time in his apartment since he usually visited yours. He graciously offered to cook dinner tonight, and while he was setting up the table, you looked around and saw a few pictures of him, his baby pictures, his family back in Australia, and his dog. You saw a guitar and a keyboard near the shelf of a thousand albums of probably his favorite artists, and then a small opening of his room showed he had LED lights and a computer setup inside. His room looked like you'd seen it somewhere, but you just couldn't point out where. It's your first time coming to his apartment that's why it baffled you why it was so familiar.

Dinner was served, and it was delicious. Chris opened a bottle of champagne to celebrate. He said that he had reached a milestone on his channel. Chris had told you he worked online as a freelancer, but now that he's mentioned the word "channel," he might be a famous YouTuber, but you were too dumb to notice.

"So, what's your youtube channel? What content do you do?" You asked him.

"Oh, I don't upload on youtube. I livestream on some website."

"What website?" you asked out of curiosity, and then it clicked to you exactly who he was: the broad torso, the muscular arms, the tattoo, and the accent. It's him—it's definitely him. You're not being delusional.

"An adult livestream site." He gave you a mischievous smile. "Judging by your expression, I have a feeling that you know who I am."

"You... you're Channie in Channie's room, aren't you?" you hesitantly said, and he laughed at how cute you were blushing when you mentioned his screen name and channel. Obviously, you were a patron since you knew who he was and the title of his streams, but he didn't know that you were a generous tipper, too.

"Guessed it right." He chuckled. "You a fan?"

You were hesitant to tell him the truth; would he make fun of you? Or would he think that it's hot how you watch him every weekend? Oh how you wanted to scream from fangirling, you've always wanted to see how Channie looked like and you were right, he looked like God had taken the time to perfect him with the just the right amount of everything but overflowing with sexual appeal and gorgeousness all over.

"So you are." He concluded with your reaction, and you gulped. "Hey, there's nothing to be shy of, baby girl."

Your clit buzzed when he called you baby girl, and you might have felt a little wetness start to pool down there.

"You're shitting me. How come I didn't notice right away? Those kissable lips you show from time to time, the fucking hot wolf tattoo—oh shit, I said too many words, was it too much?—"

"So you think I have kissable lips?" He teased.

"No! I mean, yes, you do! I didn't expect you'd be this hot in person and that you'd be m-my neighbor!" You stuttered, getting nervous for the first time in his presence.

"Well, did I exceed your expectations?" he asked, and you nodded, pursing your lips, scared that you'd accidentally tell him your nastiest thoughts about him. "Wolf, got your tongue?"

"N-no..I don't know." You said. 

You can't even look him in the eye. You wondered if he was imagining how you'd play with him every weekend, and you got embarrassed thinking about it, but little did you know he was already imagining it. Did you like his streams? Did you get turned on out of your mind? Did his streams make you sopping wet? Did he help you have earth-shattering orgasms?

Chris thought his heart would burst because of your cuteness, and he couldn't help but be curious; since you saw him cum on cam for god knows how many times, he wanted to see how hot you looked cumming too, but he didn't want to cross a line if you weren't good with it.

"Hey, don't be shy. I should be the one who should be embarrassed. You've seen me play with myself and cum loads of times, I bet." He tried to reassure you.

"Yeah..it was really sexy every time you do." You bit your lip, gathering your courage to look him in the eye. Flashbacks of him playing with himself and shooting hot strings of cum running through your head at full speed.

"I'd really like to see you cum too, if I may." He said, trying to shoot his shot.

"What?" Your eyes widen in shock. "I don't think I look sexy when I cum."

"Let me be the judge of that, kitten." He said, and with that, he moved closer to you, brushing his nose against yours. Were you going crazy? Yes, you were. Were you just letting this man have his way with you? Absolutely. Were you going to make him cum just like in his livestream? Why the hell not? "So, are you down?"

"Yes, daddy." You didn't know how that slipped, but that answer made Chris growl.

You softly placed your lips on his, and he went berserk at how soft your lips were. He didn't want to be rough, but he couldn't help but feel excited, so he cupped your cheeks and deepened the kiss. Your hands roamed around each other's bodies as if you missed each other for a long time, leaving no part untouched.

Chris suddenly carried you, not breaking the kiss and flopping you on his bed. He climbed on top of you. He swiftly unclipped your bra, and before you knew it, both of you were undressed in his bedroom. He trailed kisses down your ear, jaw, and neck all the way down until you felt his hot breath reach your dripping core.

"Fuck, this is how wet you get for me, baby?" He groaned; he couldn't wait anymore and started devouring you.

Wet. Hot. Messy

That's how Chris liked it, and honestly, this was driving you crazy as well. You never thought you would end up like this, sprawled in his bed as he eats you with much gusto. He never tasted cunt as sweet as yours, and that instantly made him addicted to your taste. He circled his skilled tongue on your clit, making you moan loudly, and when he sucked on it, you grabbed on his hair for dear life.

“Fuck, daddy!” You moaned, feeling your orgasm build up.

“Yeah? You like that?” He growled between slurps, drinking your juices like he was deprived of water in the desert.

“Fuck! I’m gonna cum!”

“Come on, cum for daddy.”

Your body shook hard as your orgasm washed over you, and Chris hadn’t stopped sucking on your clit even if you were already shaking from sensitivity. He hooked his strong arms around your thighs, preventing you from getting away from his mouth as you writhe from the slight pain and sensitivity.

"Fuck, I would pay to see you cum every damn time!"

As you came down from your high, you pushed him on the bed and straddled him, kissing him, tasting yourself through his mouth.

Finally, you can live out your fantasy of sucking his cock and not just stare at it through the screen. He was already leaking. You always wondered what his cum tasted like, so you licked a bit of it on his precum-coated tip while making eye contact. It was everything you've ever imagined. His eyes were looking directly at yours with desire and anticipation.

You wrapped your hand around his thick girth and spread his precum with your thumb all over the tip of his cock, which earned an exasperated sigh from him. You licked from the bottom of his shaft all the way up before swallowing him whole. You knew Chris was a moaner in his streams, but hearing it in person was absolute euphoria. You sucked and swirled your tongue on his cock as moans spilled from his mouth, and before you knew it, he was already pulling you to sit on it. He got a condom in his bedside drawer and slid it down his thick, hard cock quickly.

You held his cock to position it on your dripping entrance and slowly sank on it. Both of you let out a satisfied groan once he bottomed out. You grinded on his cock at a slow pace which was frustrating him, so he flipped you over and slowly started picking up the pace. It was rough but delicious. Your eyes were rolling to the back of your head as he began hitting that sweet spot inside you.

“Who’s your daddy, baby girl? Tell me.”

“You are...SHIT!” You screamed as he started rubbing your clit with his thumb as he thrusts into you hard and deep.

“Like that baby? You like daddy rubbing your little swollen clit like that?”

“Yes! FUCKING YES, DADDY!”

You felt his cock twitch every time you called him daddy. He continued his ministrations, and he felt your pussy tighten as you reached your peak and then it contracted uncontrollably as if your orgasm was milking Chris into his very own, and with a few sloppy thrusts, he came into the condom. Moans and profanities slipped out of his mouth as you both rode your orgasms out. Chris withdrew and threw the condom out and laid beside you—both of you sweaty and out of breath.

“That was..”

“Mind-blowing.” He finished your sentence for you.

“Mind if we do it again sometimes, daddy?”

He giggled, cringing at the word you called him by in a non-sexual situation.

“Sometimes?” He cocked his eyebrow. “I guess you don’t want the full Chris experience then?”

“Every day then, if you let me join in on your streams someday.” You teased, unserious about joining, but it wouldn't be bad, though.

“Deal!”

✩ reblogs, feedback, & comments are highly appreciated. it motivates me, and it is the lifeline of my blog. To everyone who read and interacted with my works, such as comment, and reblog especially with text, thank you so much 정말 감사합니다 ♡

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- love, jan ♡

© 2024 Chanswhxre

[bigwishes]

Matching the Inside

"did I ask about side effects?" "no, but I still think you should hear me out"

Aden sat down to get on Nick's level.

"Listen here lil guy, you are the geeky smart guy, I'm the big guy, I asked you to whip me up something to make me the biggest guy and you said you could, now could you or are you fucking stupid and small?"

"Aden I understand but I still think you want to hear about th-"

"DONT CARE! JUST HAND IT OVER"

Nick sighed and handed over the small vial of green fluid over to Aden.

"Is this all?" Aden grunted.

Aden quickly downed the entire vial and flexed his muscles

"So when does this shit make me bigger?"

"s-soon Aden, just gotta wait a few ho-"

"WOULD YOU JUST FUCK OFF PIPSQUEAK!, if this shit fails I swear to god I'll be the fuck outta you then get my cash back"

Nick quickly left Aden to his own devices, he wasn't the best guy to get along with at the best of times and he didn't want to see how toxic Aden was going to become after an hour or so, but it was on him for not wanting to listen to the warnings...

-----

An hour of hard work had gone by and Aden had barely felt anything, sure he had a nasty pump and his skin felt like it was stretching by the second but nothing more than an unusually good day at the gym, however he did find one thing strange.

Aden was no stranger to sweat, but not normally this much, he was used to seeing his ass imprint when he stood up from the bench but not feeling it running down his body, not feeling it squelch in his shoes as he walked.

One of the gym attendants even asked him to please change his shoes as it was leaving huge sweaty imprints as he walked.

Aden sat down on a bench to catch his breath when he smelt something unbearable, it had to be a gym towel that had fallen behind a piece of equipment and left to reek for god knows how long. As Aden looked around for the source he couldn't find anything but when he lifted his arm he was hit by a wave of warm air that made him turn his nose up

the potent order was coming from him, and boy did he fucking reek.

Aden almost gagged on the stench of his own pits and stood up to grab his stuff to head home.

As he stood up his stomach let out a loud gurgling noise. It set in again, this time stronger and painful. Aden grabbed his stomach with both his hands and moaned and his gut continued to complain.

UUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRPPPP

Aden let out a loud belch that rung out through the entire gym.

"wow, eat too much before the gym big guy haha"

BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPP

Aden couldn't control it, before he could even respond he had let rip and belched in the guys face.

Multiple people started to call him a gross pig, and he was in too much discomfort to argue, he could barely get a word in before he burped or belched like a stupid brute.

On his way out he stopped at the mirror, his shoulders looked wider, his biceps fuller, his pecs were stretching out his tank like it was nothing, he couldn't help but admire himself, but the admiration quickly faded when his body automatically cocked open his jaw and forcefully rumbled out another masculine belch.

---

Aden had raced home, doing his best to deal with the horrible stench flowing from his body he imminently got in the shower, scrubbing himself for over and hour until there was no trace of BO left on him,

getting out of the shower he constantly sniffed his pits to make sure he smelt clean and fresh, the stench had seemed to vanish and the odd bloating all but gone, now it was time to see if the formula did anything or if he was going to crush Nick's spine with his own hands.

Aden slipped on his favourite pair of underwear and stood in front of his mirror, to his surprise he did actually look bigger, although barely, he had maybe gained a pound or two of muscle, but something looked wrong....

As Aden glanced down his incredible body he noticed his underwear was much flatter than usual, he tried to adjust himself but it felt like there was barely anything to adjust. As he pulled back the waist band he was horrified to see that his incredibly 10inch manhood and shrunken down into a pitiful 3 inches

"w-WHAT THE FUCK" Aden began to panic, his heart racing

Beads of sweat started to form on his forehead and run down his face. As Aden paced around his room he didnt notice all the sweat forming all over his body, that was until the smell set in, when he finally saw himself in the mirror again he was slick from head to toe, droplets of sweat running down him and he stuck, a stench like he had just spent a month working out non stop.

His gut began to grumble once more as the pain set it, this time more intense, like his stomach was being inflated from the inside. Aden moaned and gritted his teeth in pain.

"w..w...what is...happening..tOO MEEE AAGGGHHHUUUUUUU"

Aden watched as his abs turned red and began to expand outwards.

BUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPP

Aden couldn't help but belch, but it granted him no relief, he watched helplessly as his reflection expanded and grew, sweat dripping off him flooding his floor with a pool of musk and belches escaping him every time he opened his mouth to moan or complain.

-----

A week had gone by since Aden's strange and powerful growth but a lot had changed since then.

In a week he had been banned from almost every gym in town, banned from every restaurant, his car seats had changed colour from the sweat along with every piece of fabric or furniture he owned, on top of which most had broken in some way shape or form.

He couldn't even go to any out door cafe's as he was asked to leave because his terrible BO and constant belches upset the other customers.

Aden had all but ruined his life for muscle and size, still he couldnt help but feel mostly joy when he looked in the mirror, the way his shoulders and traps swallowed his neck, how he couldn't see past his pecs. How only after a week his powerful muscled feet would tear through his shoes. He loved being huge, but he didn't love the side effects.

The belching and stench he had gotten used to but the biggest shock to his system was the hardon he got for guys now, he used to be such a ladies man but now he felt nothing towards women and almost instantly came whenever he saw another bodybuilder flex, but even that he was willing to embrace so long as he could stay this big.

Aden stood in front of his mirror and watched as grey tank slowly turn black as it soaked up his sweat. He picked up a blender from the belch filled with his freshly made shake, he began to guzzle it down like he hadn't eaten in days, the shake spilled out from the sides of his lips, dripped through his beard and onto his tank were it quickly formed prominent stains and marks.

Aden dropped the blender panting for air.

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRPPPPPP

His eyes glazed over as he looked at the sweating monster in the mirror. He couldn't help but notice the freak he had become,

grown too big, stretch marks all over his body, sweat and protein staining his clothes, BO so bad he could see it, and one hand pressed on his abs trying to force out another belch.

He finally matched what was on the inside

A total fuckin slob

[amourane]

love notes in music

pairing: drummer!theodore nott x rich girl!reader

genre: fluff, modern au

w/c: 1.2k

summary: you always got what you wanted and the extremely hot drummer was no exception.

warnings: none

a/n: i am here to push forward the drummer theo agenda because yes yes and yes

Trouble was coming. You could feel it in your bones. Maybe it was the extra shot of espresso you had today or the wild predictions in your horoscope, but you definitely sensed something brewing. It didn’t help that Enzo had interrupted your lunch and dragged you back to campus for god knows what reason.

"Enzo if this is another one of your tricks to get me to dance with you it's not going to work. Remember what happened last time?" 

You dug your heels into the grass as your best friend continued to drag you across the field. The campus auditorium came into view and you frowned. There was no reason for you to even be there today so why was Enzo tugging you along like bait?

“Yes Y/n I remember what happened last time.”

"I fractured my ankle and I do not want to wear a cast ever again. I couldn't match the darn thing with any of my clothes." You huffed out a breath at the memory of the ugly accessory that the doctors had insisted on your wearing despite your protests. 

Admittedly you were a bit of a spoiled brat but at least you knew that you were. Going to a normal university was one of your father’s choices. You would have never gone somewhere so shabby on a daily basis. Truth be told on the first day, you were actually planning to ditch and go grab a chai latte. Then you bumped into Enzo accidentally and the two of you seemed to click. 

It was a good friendship. He’d always be able to tell you when you were being a tad bit annoying because of your rich girl behaviour and you’d be able to join him in his multiple activities. One which led to the infamous ankle incident. 

“Don’t worry Y/n, you’ll still be able to wear that Gucci jacket-”

“It was an Armani jacket.”

“Yeah yeah.” Enzo pushed open the door to the auditorium, and you were immediately greeted by the sound of drums pounding heavily. The amplified sound hurt your ears. “Welcome to the band.” 

“Um...Enzo, do I need to remind you of the time when I broke a guitar?” You nervously watched the live band on stage. Technically it wasn’t your fault that the guitar broke. Enzo never did tell you how to properly use it. “And when did you join a band?”

“Please don’t remind me Y/n also I didn’t actually join the band I’m more of a-”

“Hey Enzo!” 

The music stopped. Your head whipped around and your eyes nearly fell out of their sockets at the absolute hunk that had just shouted. His dark hair seemed to glow under the spotlight making him look like some sort of angel. Your mouth ran dry when he waved a drumstick at you. His fingers looked as if they’d been carved out of stone. And his biceps. God his biceps. The guy was ripped. He was a drummer as well. What was more sexy than a drummer?! 

“Hey Theo!” Enzo, your backstabbing friend who knew your weakness for hot boys with dark hair that played the drums, embraced him in a tight hug. “The practice is going well.”

“I know!” 

Good god, his eyes were like beautiful whirlpools of love. The two boys started talking animatedly about something to do with music. There were a few words thrown here and there that you recognised but other than that you stood watching wide-eyed at the conversation in front of you. 

“Who’s the pretty lady?”

Theo turned to face you and seeing his face up close only made you want to kiss him more. He really was gorgeous. You cleared your throat, straightening your skirt. “I’m Y/n, Enzo’s best friend, and you are?”

“Theo.” He offered you his hand, which you shook. Wow, his hands were soft. You were almost jealous. Time to buy new hand cream. “Hey, I’ve heard of you. You’re that girl who nearly broke her foot when dancing.”

Your cheeks flushed. Was this your legacy now? The girl that nearly broke her foot while dancing? How horrible. You would much rather be known for your stunning looks or incredible fashion sense. 

“Actually I twisted my ankle but who’s keeping track?” 

“Y/n isn’t the best dancer or guitarist.” Enzo chimed in. “She’s really good at maths though, she’s my second brain.” He said it as if you were simply another organ in his body, but you let it slide, trying to make a good impression on the drummer boy.

Theo chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Well, it's good to know Enzo has a brain to rely on."

You giggled at his remark, feeling the tension ease a bit. "Yeah, he needs all the help he can get."

"Hey!" Enzo protested, a small pout forming. "I'll have you know I'm quite capable on my own."

"Sure you are." You teased, nudging him playfully. Then, turning back to Theo, you asked, "So, what kind of music do you guys play?"

Theo's face lit up with enthusiasm. "We're a rock band, mostly. Some original stuff, a few covers. We're actually looking for a new guitarist. Interested?" He winked, clearly joking.

You shook your head, laughing. "After what happened last time? I think I'll pass. I'm more of an appreciator of talent than a participant. But I might be persuaded to attend a private concert."

Theo laughed, a rich, warm sound that made your heart flutter. "A private concert, huh? I think we can arrange that."

Enzo rolled his eyes. "Oh boy, here we go."

Ignoring Enzo, you leaned a bit closer to Theo, your voice dropping to a playful whisper. "So, Theo, do you always look this good while playing the drums, or is today a special occasion?"

Theo raised an eyebrow, his smile turning into a smirk. "I guess you'll have to come to more practices to find out."

You gave him a once-over, pretending to think it over. "Maybe. I do have a very busy schedule, you know.”

“Sounds like a yes to me. We’ve got a gig this weekend, free up some space in that glamorous life of yours and come.

You tried your best to conceal your excitement at the fact you had just scored yourself a date with a very hot drummer. Forget about trouble today was definitely the best day of your life. 

"Alright, I'll be there." You agreed, feeling a flutter of excitement in your stomach. "But only if you promise me a private drum lesson afterward."

"It's a deal. I'll make sure you get the VIP treatment." Theo’s grin only widened and you felt your heart stutter at the sight. He really was handsome and if you didn’t know how he was single but that was good news for you.

“I’ve got some studying to catch up on but I’ll hold you to that.” You offered him a wave goodbye as you made your way out of the auditorium with Enzo. Theo simply smiled, reciprocating your action. 

A giddy feeling overtook your body as the sun shone down on you. There were millions and millions of butterflies soaring in your stomach and you could only squeal at the idea of seeing Theo in the next few days. Before your best friend could say anything you spun on your heels, this time dragging him along with you.

“We need to go shopping right now, I need a new outfit for the weekend.” 

Enzo could only groan as his feet automatically moved. It was going to be a long day.

[miya-rin]

imagine being the miya twins older sister who has had suna rintarou fully enamoured with your existence since he first met you at 15 years old.

he has tried to make many moves on you over the years to no avail; sneakily trying to place his arms around your shoulder before one of your brothers notice and throw the nearest object they can grab his way. not letting you carry anything while hes around, claiming how “youll never have to lift a finger again” if you give him a chance. hell, even dropping down to the floor to tie your shoelaces the second he realises the laces have come loose, taking his time to stand back up afterwards as he slowly rakes his eyes over your figure so he can fully take in every inch of you. every attempt of his to make you swoon for him is met with “sorry sweetheart, still not into minors” and a small ruffle of his hair which gives him a dopey smile. you would think he would start to back off eventually but to your dismay every rejection you have handed to him has just made his desire for you grow stronger - he takes your words as “try again when youre 18”

which is exactly what he does. on his 18th birthday his friends decide to throw him a massive party - being the twins chaperone you had to come along and when suna set his eyes on you, you knew there was no chance of you escaping his antics. you catch him glancing at you multiple times throughout the night before he gets pulled away by one of his guests, a disappointed look in his eyes every time he had to look away from you.

after a couple of hours you decide to step outside onto the balcony to catch some fresh air seeing as there was no sign of the party dying down anytime soon. you’re outside for maybe 5 minutes when you hear the door slide open, you already know who its going to be seeing as he has been trying to catch you alone all night, you turn around to finally face the boy and he looks as ecstatic as ever.

“happy birthday suna.” you swear you can see his soul leave his body the second those words leave your mouth, its not the first time youve said it to him tonight - youre not that cruel as to not wish the poor boy a happy birthday on his special day - but everything that comes out of your mouth looks like it sends him to heaven and back.

“thankyou yn, i appreciate you being here, but then again, i know you cant spend more that a week away from me because youre just so obsessed with me.”

“wow, am i that easy to read?” you chuckle along with him, noticing the way his gaze doesnt stray away from your face while you face forward, “so, how does it feel finally being legal?”

“incredible, it means you can finally give me a chance.” he doesnt miss the way you sigh at his words.

“suna we’v-“

“i know that we’ve been over this, but i don’t really think you mean it,” this gains an eye roll from you, “plus, my one wish when i blew out my candles was that you would give me a kiss.”

“really? well i guess your going to have to go without this year.”

“it was my birthday wish, youre not gonna deny me that are you?”

“yknow if you tell your wish to someone it doesnt come true right?”

“yn…please,” his voice is barely above a whisper, he sounds desperate, “i have been waiting for three years, all i ask for is one kiss, just one.”

“i think youre forgetting that im 22 and you are freshly 18.”

“im still 18 though.”

“hm… you make a good point,” you see the way he perks up slightly at your evaluation, a hopeful look becoming more prominent in his eyes, “one kiss. let it be my official gift for the birthday boy.” you might have well as told him he had just one the lottery, anyone who walked past the sliding door would think you had due to the way his smile was so wide.

“thankyou” is all he can muster up before he is snaking his hand up your body and with a hand tangled up in your hair he leans down until his lips touch yours, you can feel the shit eating grin spread across his face as he gently moves his lips in sync with yours, pulling away slightly to whisper “best birthday ever” before leaning back in <3

[jiminiecrickets]

DOUBLE TEAM. JJK / M!READER

summary. vigilantism comes in many flavours. jungkook, you, and your parasite come together like a neapolitan sundae.

wc. 17k

tags. smut | mcu spider-man!jk, venom!reader, loootta plot. top reader, bottom jk, established relationship, college au, bloody violence at one point, basketballer!reader, sex toys, mention of handcuffs (on reader), oral, rimming (jk receiving), multiple orgasms, manhandling, venom takes over sometime so it's basically a threesome, size difference, rough sex, lots of come

note: here, the venom/reader biology is less of a suit and more like they morph between shapes at a molecular level to whatever extent they want (bit of body horror)

"wow, he's so handsome..."

"yeah, did you see his results last semester? i can see why he managed to get that internship so young. crazy."

"internship? i heard he was given a job there. like, actually – not as a coffee-and-clipboard boy. proper stuff."

dappled under the shade of a large oak tree, jungkook fixes the earbuds in his ears, scrawling down a few lines for his chemistry homework. he pauses to close his eyes, head bobbing as he jams quietly along to his music. he pushes his soft bangs back from his eyes, a breeze running its fingers gently through his loose locks.

"god, gorgeous and a genius... d'you think my mom would like him?"

"girl, go tell him your name before you start planning the wedding! he's not with anybody. it's the perfect time!"

a slender girl in a pleated tartan skirt and a cropped black vest top sidles up to the end of the bench. she tucks her hair behind her ear and smiles shyly, tilting down slightly in an effort to maintain discretion. "hi... can i talk to you for a moment?"

jungkook shuts his folder and rises to his feet, dusting off his blue jeans. he tosses his backpack over his shoulder and hurries down the small grassy mound, checking his cracked phone screen for the time. he slips past a girl in a tartan skirt and places his hand on your shoulder.

"hey, yn," he greets. "we still on for tonight's study sesh?"

you beam, brightening at the sight of him. you prop the basketball on your hip under your arm. "hey! yeah, of course. oh, i was thinking of bringing some sausage rolls to do in your oven, a chicken salad for 'dessert' – it's more chicken than salad, though, i gotta admit. you mind?"

"no, 'course not – as long as you share. speaking of, i'm starving." casually, he leans up and drops a kiss on your cheek, cupping your jaw. he begins to move off, walking backwards to give you a pointed look. "remember: my place, five-thirty! be there or be square!"

you roll your eyes, smiling fondly. "yeah, yeah – i love you!"

he turns around, forming a heart with his hands and pursing his lips. he nearly bumps into someone, apologising profusely with animated hands. you scoff and roll your eyes, shifting the basketball in your grip and turning back to the girl.

"sorry about that. what did you want to talk about?"

her face is beet red. "o-oh – um, i-it's okay. nothing. sorry to bother you."

you frown, inspecting her with concern. "are you sure? it's not a bother."

behind you, your teammates holler at you to get back in the game. you toss the ball at one and give them the finger. they 'ooh' back at you, laughing amongst themselves as they dribble the ball between them and take lazy shots at the hoop.

"they're animals. don't worry about them." you smile encouragingly at her.

she shakes her head, long hair swaying around her cheekbones. "n-no, it's okay! um – have a good day!"

before you can get another word in, she scampers off to her gaggle of friends, clutching her bag to her side as they engulf her and begin moving off to the library.

you scratch your head but shrug, turning back to the court. you jog towards the others, and they offer every greeting from 'good trip to venus?' to 'get off the fucking court'. you just huff, punching their shoulders, and catch the ball with a soft thump.

"sorry, sorry. i'll send them your way next time."

after your decidedly unrelaxed game, chasing jungkook into the campus centre's cafeteria is the next priority. you find him alone at a round white table, staring at his phone, held landscape.

you pull out a seat from a neighbouring table and flip it around, straddling it backwards as he takes out one earbud and smiles up at you. you nudge his arm and grin, tilting your head at his phone. "finally tracked down your scent. what're you watching, sweetcheeks?"

"local news." he squeaks his chair closer to yours and unplugs his earbuds from the jack, letting them dangle from the neck of his science pun shirt under a zip-up hoodie. "you know the new guy around these parts? a couple of criminals are saying his name is venom."

"venom? is he?"

"is he what?"

"venomous," you clarify. "he's certainly got the teeth for it."

jungkook snorts, grabbing his bottle of iced tea and balancing his phone against it. "i don't think so. he just scares the crap out of people. heard he used to make snacks out of people, though. metal."

"shame. venom powers would be neat," you reply, crossing your arms over the back of the chair and propping your chin on them. "what's the news talking about?"

"mostly, it's just gossip." he shrugs. "'is venom the new spider-man?' 'are spider-man and venom working together?' they say it's 'cause they share some similarities – methods of movement, areas of control. thoughts?"

you inhale deeply. "well, i can't say much, but i will admit that venom does look pretty damn sick." you point at the video clip the news story plays of a huge black figure loping along the sides of buildings. he grabs a cop cruiser in one clawed fist and hurls it at a supervillain, who currently rots away in the raft. "ooh, shit!"

jungkook scoffs, shoving your shoulder. he grins. "so you only like him because he looks cool? not because of his ideals or worldview or anything? i understand, i like 'em big, but you're being a little reductive."

"i'm just a pretty face. i am completely unable to consider anything deeper than the cool factor." you rake his lean body with your gaze and smirk. "have i told you how good you look today?"

"baby, you can't abuse your boyfriend privileges to get out of this debate," jungkook murmurs, leaning in against your lips with a smile. "what do you think of spider-man?"

"eh. six outta ten."

"six?" jungkook sputters, jerking away. "what? you – but he's totally more than a six! eight, at least! do you realise how much math he has to do on the fly while he's swinging around? and i think he looks pretty cool, y'know. the fact that his ears don't stick out of the mask is pretty high-tech, if you ask me."

"easily recognisable, unique silhouette, cool colours." you list them off on your fingers. "both spider-man and venom fit these categories. venom, however, has the intimidation stat maxed out."

"spider-man is totally intimidating," jungkook protests. "i don't like spiders. what if he has secret spider-controlling powers and can corral them into doing his bidding? that's terrifying."

"sure, if you have a thing against spiders. i will say, though: i like that he deals with petty crime. the avengers aren't gonna bother themselves with purse-snatchers and bike theft."

jungkook hums. "finally – something we can agree on. aliens aren't falling from the sky every day."

you share a smile and jungkook shuts off his phone, leaning closer and placing his arms across your part of the table. your noses touch, and he giggles softly as you capture his lips in a tease of a kiss. he tastes like the white icing of his bakery snack.

"wanna go back to yours early?" you murmur, nosing at his neck. his cologne is faint, light and fresh. he's always been sensitive to smell. "we can go out for dinner instead. or take out – i'm easy."

"yeah, i know you're easy," he teases, nibbling on your lower lip. "one kiss and you're already begging to come home with me."

you gasp, offended. "how dare you! just because i am captain of the basketball team and extremely sexy does not mean i am an expert in mattress brands. apologise."

"mm... no."

"apologise!"

"do you take cash," he rests his palm against the back of your neck, bringing your lips to his, "or card?" he ghosts his palm over the front of your pants.

"oh, you little minx," you growl playfully, grabbing his phone off of the table and him by his wrist. "c'mon. you got your helmet?"

he grins and nods, swinging his backpack over his shoulder. "right here."

"good." as you run out of the cafeteria, dragging your giggling boyfriend after you, you lean in, kissing the apple of his cheek. his skin is warm, flushed and pretty. "i'd fuck you in it if it didn't stop me from kissing you."

he gasps. "come again?"

"oh, you know i will be. now, on the bike – hold tight onto me. no hands in the pants this time."

he blows a raspberry, swinging your hands between your bodies. "buzzkill."

—

with a heavy thump, you drop your bag and jungkook's at the base of his desk. his tiny studio apartment is sparsely decorated, but you've come to view it as a place of simple peace and comfort. he clings to you easily, arms wrapped around your shoulders as you carry him to his king-single bed. it's not large enough to fit both of you side by side, meaning that jungkook tends to stack himself on top of you when he snoozes.

"i'm noticing you like to carry me everywhere these days," jungkook whispers, grinning as he sucks on your neck, bruising the skin.

"mhm," you reply breathily, placing him down on his bed and hovering an inch over his body. he wraps his legs around your thighs and pulls your crotch against his. "i've been working out my core. results are finally showing."

jungkook grins darkly, pushing your dark grey letterman jacket off of your shoulders. you help him, shrugging it off. "really? let me have a look, baby."

you kneel back and tug your shirt over your head, revealing planes of soft warm skin. jungkook moans at the sight, tossing off his own clothes all over his apartment in his hurry. he sits up, wrapping his arms around your middle, and plants kisses up your stomach and chest, leading to a soft peck on the bulb of your throat. it bobs as he tucks his face into the side of your neck, breathing in your scent with a soft hum. he draws back slightly.

"did you change your cologne, honey?" he lowers his face again, a cute furrow between his brows and a thoughtful pout on his lips. "you smell different."

"uh – no, i don't think so," you reply, struggling to keep your head on straight when jungkook's hands are venturing down the front of your pants. "could be a new formula."

"mm, yeah, you're right," he whispers, licking his lips as he grips your bulge a little harder, making your hips jolt into his palm. he grins, eyes twinkling with innocent amusement. "hah. you're cute when you're sensitive."

your cheeks warm at the sound of his smooth, lilting voice, dropped lower than usual. arousal stirs deep in your gut. "shut up..."

he coos, gazing up at you as he rests his chin on your sternum. "unused to compliments, baby?"

"n-no, i'm just... not used to people calling me cute."

jungkook's grin widens and he nibbles on his lower lip as he gropes your hardening length through the thick denim of your jeans, his own straining against the zipper. "big boys like you need more love. can i... give you some love?"

his cheeks tint pink when he says that last part, barely a whisper. he's so flirty, yet so shy, and it's a dichotomy you have yet to figure out. still, it's so endearing watching him blush at his own flirtations.

you nod wordlessly, only finding your voice after a moment or two. "yeah. please."

he giggles and tucks his knees under himself to touch his lips to yours. it's surprisingly chaste despite the way he's feeling up your cock, trying to locate every vein and curve through thick denim.

"i bought something the other day," he begins, stroking your hip as he grinds the heel of his palm into your bulge. "i was wondering if you'd like to try it out with me right now."

"you bought something...?" a dark urge to encircle his tiny waist with both hands and fuck him stupid nearly makes you black out. it fills you up from the centre outwards and rams against your ribs like taking huge lungfuls of air, one after another, without allowing yourself to breathe out.

the pressure vanishes as soon as it comes, simmering instead in the pit of your stomach. you kneel on the bed with shaking hands, reeling inside your mind.

"yeah. something for us to play with." he smiles. "or, something for me to play with and for you to enjoy."

"oh," you exhale, barely a wisp of a breath. "you want me to watch?"

your cock stirs at the idea. he's shown himself off for you before using just his hands, and even that felt thick with sin and filth. you don't know how you'd react if he used something else.

"yeah, but it isn't quite what you're thinking. you always please me and forget about yourself, and i wanted to do the same. it's really self-indulgent for me – i've been imagining this for a while. ah, maybe i should just show it to you instead of trying to be all cryptic and mysterious." he laughs at himself and motions for you to stay put. he swings his legs over the small bed and reaches for his bedside drawer, atop which lies a shoebox-sized black box. he picks it up and places it on the sheets in front of you.

with one hand on the edge of the lid, he lifts his gaze, which flickers nervously over your features. "if it's too much, you can just tell me and we won't ever have to talk about this again."

you shake your head. "it's okay. i just wanna know what it is. i can't stop staring at your lips."

with a chuff of laughter, jungkook licks his lips, a little shy. you've never been one to mince your words, and it's rather soul-baring. he can't help the flutter of his heart when he catches your quick glance down at his lips. "alright, alright... somebody's hungry tonight, isn't he?"

"mm, just for you."

jungkook lifts the box's lid and extracts, with only a second of hesitation, a clear silicone fleshlight.

you always please me and forget about yourself.

i've been imagining this for a while.

"you… want to use that... on me," you say, but it's almost a question with how your voice wavers on the last word.

jungkook nods silently.

"but... what about you?" your eyes widen slightly. "wait – is this because i've been really needy recently? are you tired? i'm sorry, i don't know what's gotten into me lately."

he shakes his head quickly. "no, not at all, baby! you could never tire me out – i think your neediness makes you cuter. yes, you're cute, don't give me that face – we went over this already. i just... want to see it more."

"that's why it's transparent?" you ask, unable to hide your amusement. "you want to look at my dick?"

he blushes all the way down his chest. "it's as good a reason as any! can you kiss me? my face is hot and i need a distraction."

like the good boyfriend you are, you oblige, cupping his cheek and drawing him into a slow, deep kiss, prodding your tongue into his willing mouth. he moans as your tongue slides against his own, soft and wet and hot. he places his hands on top of your thighs, your open jeans hanging low to reveal your apollo's belt cinching your hips. he ghosts his palm over the bulge in your boxers as he sucks lightly on your tongue and your whole body shudders like a ship crashing against rocks – the animal, guttural growl that bubbles from the pit in your stomach rumbles in his skull, ferocious lust nearing fury so intense and primal that for a moment jungkook doesn't think it comes from you. as if on instinct, you wrap your arms around jungkook's torso and yank him towards you, pulling his front against yours.

"f-fuck," jungkook nearly whimpers when he pulls away, lashes fluttering as he stares up at you, dark pupils swallowing his irises. he arches his back. you press the flats of your palms against the bumps of his spine. "i didn't know you could make a sound like that..."

"like what?" you murmur, panting softly as you slide your hands under his jeans over the curve of his ass. you push his pants down hurriedly, sloppier than usual. you just... really can't wait.

he shifts his knees to let you take his blue jeans off, his underwear tangled somewhere in the legs. he tilts his head as you bury your face in his neck and shuffle out of your own pants, leaving you both naked on jungkook's single bed – except for your socks. his bed's barely big enough for one person, and with both of you, you're struggling not to slip off. you'll have to be careful if you roll over.

"like... never mind." he shakes his head, staring down with tangible anticipation at the thick length bobbing between your thighs. he's not small, but fuck, you make him feel that way. "just c'mere, please."

"so polite," you chuckle, watching him squirt a generous amount of lube into the toy.

"only for you, honey," he hums. he holds the toy slightly away from his stomach, as if suddenly unsure what to do with it. his indecision only lasts for a moment before those big brown eyes raise to yours. "lay down. we'll do it this way."

"mm. can't refuse the view you'll give me."

he swings his leg over your lap, smiling shyly as he grips your length in one hand. he tears his gaze from yours to sink the entrance of the sleeve down around your cockhead, teasing the glans. he takes about a third of your cock into the toy, glancing up to gauge your reaction. he finds only pleasure in your expression and, emboldened, moves the toy faster, rolling his wrist the same way he strokes you. the toy squelches as it slides down around the middle of your shaft, lube dribbling down the veins of your dick.

"fuck, that's cold," you whisper, acutely aware of how your cock pulses.

jungkook places a soothing hand on your tense thigh, rubbing what you think is meant to be relaxing circles into your skin – except he does it a little too high, a little too close to your dick, and relaxing's the last thing on your mind.

"it's alright," he hums, "you'll warm it up."

you huff at his nonchalance but lay back down, tucking one hand under your head to help bolster his cloud-soft pillows. you could sink in his pillows, drown in them. your other hand rests on his bare thigh.

"good boy," he says cheekily, fucking your cock with the slick toy. it's knobbly on the inside, and almost too tight – but the pain's pleasurable, especially when he gazes down at you with such loving eyes.

"call me that again and i'll out-brat you," you mumble, hissing softly as he slides the toy all the way down. your throbbing cock leaks, and watching it through the silicone makes your skin flush. evidently, he feels the same, staring at it with such intensity you're not sure whether you should feel afraid or aroused.

you decide on the latter.

"you? a brat? you don't have it in you," he says dismissively, stroking and squeezing your balls. he pulls the toy off and swipes his thumb over your leaking slit, gathering all the precum he can. he brings his thumb to his lips and licks it clean.

god, it's always the quiet ones – always the shy ones. your boyfriend, with his alliterative name and baggy jeans and zip-up hoodies, used to be too nervous to initiate things with you – what if you weren't in the mood? what if you didn't find him attractive? but after the first time, after you worshipped his body and got drunk off his pleasure, you seemed to unlock something in him – something dirty and saccharine.

"what – mm – what do you mean?" you ask breathily, closing your eyes as he returns the toy to your length, the squelching lube and precum dripping down your shaft.

"you're too in love with me and too soft. you couldn't hurt a fly. besides, big boy, i noticed how you tensed up when i told you how good you were being for me. did you learn something about yourself?" he teases.

you shake your head, flushing slightly. "i just... like pleasing you."

jungkook's smile grows softer, less coy. his eyes crinkle as he leans down to kiss you briefly, humming gently. "i like pleasing you, too. you can come when you want – don't hold back for me, m'kay?"

"okay."

fuck... you've never seen a prettier sight than this, the angel on your lap totally focussed on making you feel good. he shuffles down your body until his face is level with your cock, and you give him a little more room to lay down by shifting to sit against the headboard. he smiles up at you gratefully, watching closer as the fleshlight swallows up your thick cock again and again. arousal swirls low in his belly as you groan lowly, head tipping back.

bent at the knee, his feet kick absently behind him, ankles crossed. he takes your balls into his hot, wet mouth, sucking softly at the velvety skin as his wrist twists firmly around your dick. he looks so innocent, but the things he's making you feel certainly aren't.

"you're... you're gonna make me come," you groan softly, "doin' that with your pretty mouth..."

"oh? so soon? are you just exceptionally pent up," he drags his tongue against the veins of your cock, "or are you more into this toy than i am?"

"no, you just – oh, shit – you look so good like that. you're so fuckin' pretty with those eyes, those gorgeous lips that i know're so soft – drives me damn near crazy, jus' wanna fuck you all the time—" you're babbling, you know that, feeling your high creep up on you mercilessly. it's almost embarrassing, you can last longer than this, but something inside you is just so damn hungry, so eager. it draws in your lust to a dark bottomless pit in your stomach, gorged with all the pleasure jungkook's giving you but still greedy for more, more, more.

you reach down and hastily twirl jungkook's hair into a short, messy ponytail. you pull him into you, making him moan and his hips jerk – he sucks on your balls, taking each into his mouth one at a time, pumping your cock until the toy leaks with your precum, dripping with it. he licks it up wantonly, gliding his hot tongue over your veins until the whole thing glistens with saliva and lube.

he pants softly, stroking your cock faster until your whole body aches with the will not to give in – you grip the wooden headboard above you to ground yourself, struggling not to lose to the heat and wetness of jungkook's mouth and touch.

you can't. you're better than this. but god is your mind foggy with lust, feeling him lap at your balls like an overexcited puppy, feeling his toy grip your cock so enthusiastically. you want to feel him around you, feel his heat, his walls, real tight and greedy – want to taste him, lick the sweat off his hips, taste your own come on his lips like some filthy exchange of power, prove to him that you're the only one he wants, the only one who'll take such good care of him—

the dam crumples. your spine arches; the world goes white.

when your eyes flutter open – you swear you didn't close them – jungkook's sitting up, dazed and wearing the heaviest blush you've ever seen on him, red from his chest to his ears. his chest heaves, his breath shaky, and a few smears of what looks suspiciously like come cover his cheeks and neck. he hasn't wiped it off yet.

"b... baby..." jesus, your voice is fried. you clear your throat, rather painfully, and try again. "why're you lookin' at me like that...?"

he doesn't say anything for a moment, those huge doe eyes stuck on you. finally, he tears his gaze away, covering his mouth slightly – a jerky half-move that suggests he doesn't really know what to do with himself.

"um," he says softly, his voice a little unsteady, "th-the... the toy – it broke..."

after a second, you frown, still dopey and cotton-brained. maybe you should've done something in the last two weeks instead of postponing it until you could next get jungkook alone. "what? what do you mean, it... broke?"

he extends it to show you. down the side is a long crack, and the closed end is split open. you don't know what to say – you don't know what anyone would say – but by the way jungkook's looking at you, it's clear he wants something.

"do you think they'd refund us for a faulty product?"

clearly, that's not the right thing to say, because he pouts aggressively.

"you got bigger when you came," he mumbles, sweeping his index finger over his cheek and sticking it in his mouth as he glances up at you. he doesn't know how much that casual motion affects you. "like... real big. i didn't know your voice could get that deep, either. it was... kinda hot..."

you don't... remember talking... "did i say something?"

"mm. you pushed my head down and told me i looked good like that. that i was good to you – to us."

"us?" you repeat, an empty dread dropping in your stomach like a stone. you try to hide your dismay, but jungkook has always been particularly receptive to your emotions. either that, or you're just really easy to read.

"it's okay, why are you afraid? it didn't hurt, if that's what you're worried about. i like it when you're rough."

something in the back of your mind preens at that. you shake your head. "alright – yeah. just – i'm sorry for ruining it. i'll pay you back for it."

"don't worry about it. you paid for our last few dinners, so think of this as my turn to pay." he giggles and flushes, leaning closer and straddling your waist. "besides... i got something out of it, too." he takes your hand and places it on his toned stomach. you have to think past the firm muscle of it to notice that it's warm and sticky. he slides his bottom lip between his teeth to hide his flustered grin. "i really like it when you're rough."

it's enough to make your dick twitch to life again, but part of you is still rattled by how easily you just... gave up control.

"i'm glad you liked it," you say softly, "but i don't want to do that again. i don't want to hurt you."

he scoffs, grinning as he comes to sit beside you, shoulder-to-shoulder and hip-to-hip in his narrow bed. "you couldn't hurt me if you tried, baby. i'm stronger than i look. but okay – i get it. do you wanna cuddle in bed for a while, catch our breath?"

you hum softly, burying your head in his shoulder. he strokes your hair. "yeah... but maybe after a shower."

he laughs softly, pushing you off the bed towards the bathroom. he splays out on his back to make sure you don't come creeping back into his arms. "what, city boy, can't handle a little mess?"

"of course, hate that shit. i'd live in a lab if i could."

"how scientist of you. i can see why you joined the life foundation – the entire place looks like a hospital, just with more skylights."

"mm, definitely feel like a doctor, scrubbing my arms up to the elbows every day." you pick up a towel from the stack in jungkook's wardrobe.

"sounds fun. maybe i'll join you, scrub your arms for you."

"don't," you say quickly. you clear your throat, wiping the panic from your voice. "you'll ruin your pretty hands working there. all the soap makes even moisturising painful."

he arches a brow, but doesn't say anything. instead, he hums and turns his gaze to the ceiling. "guess i'm stuck with mister stark, then."

"hey, they're doing some cool stuff with prosthetics right now, and you get to fix the avengers' gear. the avengers, man. you shouldn't sound so sad. have you met thor yet?"

"not yet. the guy's a prince – pretty sure he was better things to do than say hello to some puny human."

"ah, well. at least you're doing something – i'm wasting my life away being someone's assistant."

he watches you for a while as you gather new clothes from your drawer in his wardrobe. he rolls onto his side to keep watching you when you move out of his vision.

"are you okay, honey?" he asks quietly, gazing up at you. "are you still upset over the toy? i told you, i don't mind. it was kinda hot, to be honest..."

you glance over your bare shoulder. he bats his eyelashes and winks. you huff. "you think everything i do is hot. i could sit down and you'd drool over my posture or something."

"how'd you know i like the way you sit? you take up so much space. in a good way, of course! i – i wish i had your confidence."

you soften at the very real vulnerability he displays. not just everyone gets to know his thoughts and feelings. you glance at the towel in your hand and back at him – with a soft sigh, you set your clothes aside and return to the bed, smiling as jungkook's face lights up like a star.

"oh, that was easy," he says flirtatiously, stroking his fingers up and down your chest as you lay down next to him on the pillows.

"i'm your boyfriend, i'm trained to do this," you hum, bearing the discomfort of the chilly stickiness for jungkook's soft gaze, trained on you. the playfulness falls from your tone as you reach up and brush a lock of hair out of his eyes. "you're so beautiful, you know that?"

he giggles bashfully and turns his face into your shoulder, shuffling closer to hide his red cheeks. "gosh, what a charmer. did i do something to turn you all mushy?"

you shrug, cuddling him close to your chest. "not particularly. looking at you just makes me really, really happy."

his eyes crinkle as he smiles, leaning up and kissing your throat. "you big sap... i love you, too."

you bury your nose in his soft dark mop of hair and close your eyes. you don't want to think about how small he feels in your arms, your little finely-muscled dancer. you don't want to think about how easily he can take over now, and how fragile jungkook would be if he wrapped his hands around him.

you only let the feisty parasite stick around so you can better protect jungkook. sure, you have to keep it well-fed with brain matter in exchange, but anything's a fine trade if you can keep your darling safe. with all these genocidal aliens and egomaniacal scientists running about, to make sure this one particular civilian doesn't get trapped under a fallen building, you can't count on anyone else except yourself.

—

no matter how many times jungkook gets slammed into concrete, getting mashed through three floors of an office building in lower manhattan will never stop hurting like hell. even his pride is a little bruised – getting so beat up by the scorpion was almost embarrassing. he'd managed to subdue mac gargan – again – but his mind had been elsewhere during the fight, leading to gargan landing more than a few avoidable hits.

he stumbles slightly when he lands on the fire escape with a soft thump. gripping his bleeding side, he pushes his bedroom window up and slips inside, hissing as a broken rib pokes a nerve. he shuts the blinds of his window and pulls off his mask, breathing easier without it.

finding the time to fix his suit is going to be a pain. he has so many assignments due and so little time.

he limps out of his darkened bedroom, bracing against the door frame for support. he flicks on the bathroom light with a sigh and wanders over to the sink, sparing a glance into the mirror.

great: a big ol' bruise on his cheek, little cuts all over. nothing would heal in time for his chem lab the next day.

he peels the suit off his upper half, too sore to even attempt bending down to pull it off his legs. turning in the mirror shows him the massive purple bruise covering his back and shoulders, green around the edges. he makes a face and it hurts.

guess he's sleeping on his stomach tonight. he pulls the mirror forward, opening up the cupboard behind it, and raises himself onto his toes to reach the first-aid kit on the top shelf, right next to your shaving razor and other bathroom essentials. the small green bag is stuffed full to bursting with gauze, antiseptic, and thread, and maybe it was a blessing to live in criminal-infested new york because you never asked why he had so much on hand.

keys jingle. "hey, baby? are you home already?"

shitshitshitfuckshit—

you peek around the bathroom entrance, your hoodie singed around the edges and smelling faintly of rocket fuel. you frown at the opened first aid kit, cotton pads and saline sitting by the sink, and turn briefly to set the groceries down in the kitchen behind you. you enter the bathroom and glance around at only white tile and glass.

you glance up behind the door and jump three feet out of your skin.

"jesus christ—! what the fuck?" you shout.

jungkook motions haggardly, pressing his finger to his lips with wide eyes. he's backed into the corner of the ceiling – what the fuck – wearing the red-and-blue suit of new york's spider-man – what the actual fuck– and looks like he lost a fight to a brick wall.

what. the. shit.

"pleasepleaseplease don't scream," he whisper-shouts. "sh-shh-shh – let's be normal about this!"

"normal?" you hiss, aggression bleeding into your fear. "ex-cuse me?"

"just don't yell! please." he drops down from the ceiling with one hand and you jerk back, the scene in front of you proven real. "you weren't supposed to find out this way."

"weren't supposed to – this way – what?"

he presses on the spider in the centre of his chest and the whole thing loosens like a deflated balloon, hanging off of his bruised arms. "honey, please don't be angry—"

"angry? angry?" you bark out an incredulous laugh. "i'm fucking furious! you're spider-man? my boyfriend is spider-man?"

he swallows harshly, lowering his gaze to stare at his feet. he nods almost imperceptibly.

"spider-man's been around for years. how long have you been doing this? since fifteen, sixteen?"

"four – fourteen..."

silence.

"you're mad," you say flatly. "actually mad. fourt—" you pinch the bridge of your nose. "you know what, instead of getting upset about how young you were when you first went about punching bike thieves for funsies, i'm going to get upset about the fact that you're bleeding all over yourself. what happened to you?"

"it wasn't for fun," he mumbles. "it was a morals thing. and, um, scorpion tried killing the ol' triple-jay, so i had to step in. the police should have him by now."

"the scorpion? well, we'll be seeing you on tonight's news, then. i'll be able to see exactly how he got you so messed up."

he flushes at your accusing tone, rubbing the back of his neck. "i'm sorry, honey. i meant to tell you… i just didn't know how, or when. i was so scared of the wrong people finding out and… and hurting you."

slowly, you release a deep sigh, and with it goes your anger. "the last thing you should be worried about is anyone hurting me. you should be worried about you. is this what you look like after every fight?"

he shakes his head. "it's not usually so bad. he just got some lucky hits in. i heal quickly, anyway."

placing a tentative hand on his cheek, you turn his face this way and that to examine his wounds. your hand shifts to take the point of his chin under your thumb and he stares up at you with such sweet, sorry eyes, brimming with glossy apologies.

"can't you put down the mask?" you almost plead. "let someone else do it. someone who's got more help than you do."

"who, like the avengers? they only really do world-ending threats, and for all gargan's bluster, he's not that."

you cup his neck and gently run your thumb over his jawline, careful of his wounds. "you… you mean so much to me. i love you something crazy," you whisper, voice dropping to a raw, almost tired rasp. he closes his eyes and wraps his arms around you, resting your foreheads together. "i know i'm selfish, but i don't want to lose you."

"i'll always come home," he murmurs. "i promise. for you, nothing could keep me away. someone has to keep greedy people out of your pants."

you can't help but loose a weak chuckle at that. "i'm yours, baby. will you let me patch you up?"

he nods, gripping your shoulder as you help him step out of the suit. he sucks in a breath when he bends too far in a certain way but attempts a smile when you glance up at him.

"don't worry about it. you'll make me right as rain in no time, won't you, doc?"

"you're going to make me grey with worry," you mumble, straightening up and reaching for the cotton pads and antiseptic. those cuts need tending to. you dab the damp cotton pad onto his brow, gently holding his head in place by cupping the nape of his neck. "hold still, baby."

"'m sorry. stings a little."

"how's it going to feel when i get to that massive scrape on your side?"

he winces at the idea. "if you leave it alone, it'll heal by itself…"

"you beggin' me to not touch it? thought you were the amazing spider-man."

"spider-man eats punches and springs back up with a quip. jungkook gets sweaty hands when approaching the cashier. jungkook's a bitch when it comes to pain."

your hand pauses slightly, then presses harder than necessary on his busted lip. he flinches and whines. "you're still you in the suit, sweetheart. if spider-man can take it, so can you."

"thure," he mumbles thickly, the cotton pad obscuring his words. you move onto the tiny cuts caused by flying shards of glass and he braces himself, gripping your forearms tightly. "so… you're not mad anymore…?"

"no, i'm still furious," you reply. "i just want you in one piece before i rip into you."

he has the gall to giggle nervously. "that's a joke, isn't it?"

you glance down at him and he quietens, suitably chastised.

eventually, after taking care of his wounds and sitting him down at the small dinner table to make him a cup of hot chocolate, you speak up. "every time you came home with a black eye or split lip and told me you got mugged on the way home or tripped on the stairs, it was because of spider-man, wasn't it?"

jungkook fiddles with his sweater sleeves. "yeah."

"you lied to me."

he picks at a loose thread and swallows. "yeah…"

"i always wondered how you healed so fast." you set down the steaming mug in front of him and take a seat across from him, watching him cup the mug in both hands and take tiny sips from it. you cross your arms and look away.

that's the last thing you say for a long while. you stare at the table, mouth twitching every so often as if you want to say something but can't find the right words for it.

"i want to go to bed," you say suddenly, rising to your feet as if pulled by puppet strings. "it's been a long day. come… come join me when you're ready."

jungkook nods and his throat bobs, turning his gaze into the swirling whirlpool in the mug. he whispers, "okay, baby. i'll be there."

you nod and take a step backwards, then another, before turning around and heading into jungkook's bedroom, shutting the door behind you.

jungkook stares at the closed door for a while. he can hear you mumbling, then pausing, and mumbling again, but even for his enhanced hearing, it's too quiet for him to discern. he doesn't know if he wants to know at all – it's probably better if he doesn't know what you're thinking.

he sighs softly, swirling the remnants of his not-so-hot chocolate in his mug. at least you don't hate him, which is more than he could have asked for. you're sleeping in his room, too, and that must mean something.

he hopes you won't leave in the morning.

—

it always starts as a normal day. things don't turn out as you hope they will.

"spider-man's here! spider-man's fighting the sandman!"

you'd been sitting in a ramen restaurant, sipping a pineapple smoothie with your noodle bowl, when the ground-shuddering booms grew close enough to be noticeable. the tv wired up against the wall showed the developing story, with helicopter shots showing flint marko's massive sandy form, bellowing in fury at the tiny red-and-blue figure thwipping around the skyscrapers to avoid hurled cement and rebar.

you can see the same thing out the restaurant window.

civilians scatter, panic and chaos causing a din. people shove past you, and the smart ones don't hang around to whip out their phones. you can taste the dryness in the air, the thick desert-like heat compressing inwards and crackling in your fingertips. sand-marko roars in rage and surges forward like a wave, crumpling cars like tissue paper.

YN.

the low, grating voice is loud in your head, overruling every scream in every direction.

THAT'S A BIG BAD GUY. LET'S FIGHT HIM.

"i'm looking at that church tower, man. he's getting close. the bell's the perfect shape to throw."

COWARD, venom roars in your head. YOU WON'T FIGHT TO SAVE OUR SPIDER?

"i'm not a coward," you snap, dodging an i-bar thrown like a javelin. it pierces the restaurant window. "he's got it covered. he's fought sandman a few times, knows his weaknesses."

if he could, venom would narrow his eyes at you. WE KNOW WHO HE IS. WHY CAN'T HE KNOW WHO WE ARE, YN?

"because we've killed people," you hiss, sprinting towards marko's mammoth form. a barefoot woman in a business suit screams for help, fruitlessly tugging the arm of another woman pinned inside the foyer of a law firm's brick building. "heroes don't do that."

venom forms a simple black face mask and cap over your face to hide your identity a little more. a large pile of concrete chunks from the caved-in floors above trap the woman in a tiny space under a table, where she'd dived for cover. you reach out and an oily black tendril shoots out, smashing a falling chunk of concrete to dust before it can crush the barefoot woman. she doesn't notice among all the other falling debris outside and spots you.

"please, help us!" she cries with a face smeared with ash. "her leg's pinned!"

you run up to them, gripping the edge of the largest chunk of concrete, snapped steel bars sticking out at angles. venom envelops your fist and spreads along the underside of the chunk, giving you more leverage to push it high enough to allow the woman to crawl through. her left leg is smeared with blood, soaking into her pantyhose. she limps out, leaning heavily on the other woman, who stares mutely as you set the concrete slab back down with a grunt and venom slinks back into your skin.

"thanks," she whispers, finding your eyes under the cap. you nod silently, and she helps the other woman hobble out of the ruin that once was a building.

you turn your attention back to the sandman. he's further away, and you notice how jungkook's leading him towards buildings with water towers. most of them are apartment complexes, and with the speed they're moving, there's going to be no shortage of civilians in danger.

"we'll focus on getting people out. spider-man will focus on wrangling the sandman. teamwork makes the dream work." you race towards marko, dodging all the people running the opposite way. if you were smart, you'd follow them, but you're not smart, and venom roars encouragement and puppets your body in the direction of civilians in need when you miss them.

with a bellow like a thousand boulders through glass, marko smashes jungkook through the roof of the train station, the famous, golden grand central terminal. you happen to be there, helping a family find each other through the chaos.

when jungkook wheezes and struggles to his feet, his gaze passes over you – then snaps back. the eyes of his mask widen, and he looks as if he's about to run to you – before marko slams him along the ground with a huge fist of sand.

there are still civilians in the station, trapped underground where the floors have caved in on the stairs to the platforms. on the lowest level, you manage to nudge aside a large piece of steel and concrete, reaching down to a terrified father cradling two little boys in his arms. they flinch back when the debris shifts dangerously, sand swirling in the air above.

"take them," the man pleads, "take my kids – please! i'll wait it out down here. i won't make it through that gap."

"are you kidding?" you shout above the din of battle and distant sirens, eyes widening. booms shake the ground and the walls, reverberating in your bones. "the tunnels might collapse!"

"i'll take that chance," he calls back, ushering forward his older son. he turns to him and grips his shoulder. the boy's in tears, babbling to his dad not to leave him. grimly, he pushes him towards you, and the boy hangs off of your arm as you lift him next to you through the gap in the debris. it's barely big enough for the width of his shoulders, and it'll take too long to clear it all before marko might do something that'll crush or suffocate you all.

the man lifts the infant towards you. you strain to reach for the crying baby, hidden tendrils of black mass extending out of your back and shoulders focussed on keeping the weight off of you and the child sobbing next to you. you take the baby under the arms and hold him to your chest, feeling venom form a wrap carrier around the child. he has enough foresight to turn your jacket into the wrap for appearances later.

the air is getting hot, hard to breathe through the dust, and venom shapes a simple face mask over the baby's mouth and nose to filter the air. the baby stops crying almost immediately with his influence.

with another rattling boom shaking your roots, you peer through the hole, gripping the back of the older boy's sweatshirt to keep him close and steady. "i'm coming back. stay alive."

with that, venom leverages the steel frame away, allowing you to crawl out from beneath it. the young boy clutches your belt as you hurry up what remains of the stairs, coughing in the dry, sandy air.

"vee, how's the baby?" you mutter, running along the lengthy platforms while the fight rages overhead. with every heavy smash, concrete and tiling dust your shoulders, trickling from hairline cracks in the ceiling.

CALM.

"okay… kid, when we get up there, you have to close your eyes and mouth, alright? try not to eat any sand."

he sniffles and nods, his grip tightening with resolve.

grand central and several nearby blocks are ruined with huge piles of sand blown into the corners, making the ground hard to run across. the boy slips a few times but you're always there to haul him back up.

half of your attention is on spider-man. even as you're lifting a displaced i-bar from a nearby construction site from the entrance, one eye is on the tiny red-and-blue figure zipping around and a shrinking sandman. marko's patches of dark sand slough off in heavy cascades, enraging him – making him desperate.

you run the children to a nearby police blockade, which is little more than two or three cars parked haphazardly across the road. a fire engine is parked nearby – the older boy screams, "mom!" and stumbles towards a woman in firefighter gear. with the way they embrace and the woman checks him for injuries, you don't have much worry bundling the now-crying infant up in his blanket and pressing him into her arms. you don't wait for swapped words or even eye contact before spinning on your heel and running back towards the ruins of the train station.

"flint! you have to stop this!" jungkook shouts, crashing another water tower down onto him. "what's going on, man?"

"i can't stay here!" marko bellows, his voice like the whip of a hurricane. he flings a billboard at jungkook, which he deftly dodges. "i won't!"

"what are you talking about? why not?" he threads the needle between slabs of debris swirling in marko's storm. "marko, you're going to hurt people!"

in response, he roars, whipping up a sandstorm into a single spear-like point, and hurls it down towards jungkook.

he dodges, pulling himself out of the way just in time, but you don't have his spider-sense. the shaft of the beige spear thrusts through your heart.

jungkook's senses explode until his ears ring. he looks back and screams.

the father's hand slips in yours as your grip loosens. he cries out in horror and blood stains the compressed sand, dripping from the tip.

you can't breathe. the sand collapses where it sits, including in the gaping wound the size of a beer bottle. frantically, venom floods the wound, pushing out the contaminants and creating and stitching your cells back together. but with his attention already divided through holding two tonnes of steel off your back and bolstering your strength to lift the man with one hand, he has to choose his battles. he chooses you – you can feel the power draining from you, your hand slipping around the father's.

you blink, hard, to rid yourself of the dizziness and nausea rising in your gut as venom stitches your heart and lungs and bones back together. you stare down at the man, whose terrified face is splattered with your blood. "i'm going to pull," you rasp, blood spilling from your lips. "your family's safe."

and you pull. you pull and pull, twice as hard because your hands are wet with blood and sweat, and the man finally manages to grab the edges of the hole and clamber out, collapsing beside you.

you push him weakly, hands feeling fat and rubbery. "go," you cough, able to feel the air on your exposed heart. you push him again. "go."

the floor of the station crumbles into a sinkhole over you, blocking you into a tiny space. you slump over, blinking hard with your forehead against the ground to rid yourself of the black spots swimming into your vision.

a cry of your name, and light spears down onto you. jungkook roars with effort as he hauls six feet of steel and concrete off of you and it crashes into the wall of the train station, crumbling into pieces.

he wraps an arm around you and webs the ceiling, lifting you out and hiding behind a corner. he falls to his knees, dragging you towards him by your shoulders with a sob.

"b-baby," he sobs, tremors wracking his shoulders. "baby, no, no, oh, god, i'm so sorry – baby, please—"

he peels back your black jacket and a wail rips through him at the sight. you keep your bleary gaze on the red of his mask, feeling venom squirm inside your cells, beating on the walls to let him out, to heal you. by sheer fucking willpower you manage to hold him back, burning him whenever he comes too close to the edges of your wound. he roars inside your head, slamming his will against yours in an effort to subdue you, knock you out of the driver's seat.

NO! STOP FIGHTING ME!

he can't know. it would break him.

your lips part to speak. your throat is dry, your tongue too big for your mouth. "you sh-should… go fight that bad guy…"

NO!

jungkook rips off his mask. he can't breathe, and his world crumbles around him. tears stream down his cheeks and throat. he gasps, breaths short and wheezing, and cradles you close, rocking your body against his. "no," he hiccups, gloved hands shifting down your chest to clear the cloth around the hole that goes right through. he can see the blue of his suit through it and bile rises in his throat. "no!"

"it's okay," you sigh raggedly, reaching up and groping for his face. you can't see much in the blurry darkness invading your vision. "s'okay… 's okay. you can win this. c-come find me… later…"

"fuck that!" he cries, gripping you tighter and obsessively running his hand through your sandy hair, pressing his lips to your temple. his tears are wet and cold against your skin, a small reprieve from the suffocating heat.

he clutches your hand to his cheek, pinning it there. his dark eyes glimmer with fat tears, and you can't help but think it's beautiful how his lashes clump together and the reflections waver in his eyes like the starry sky in a lake. "i'm sorry. i'm so sorry," he whimpers. "i love you. i love you. please – p-please don’t go, please don't leave me – don't close your fucking eyes!" he screams when your gaze slips from his to blink slowly up at the ceiling, each blink getting heavier and heavier; the voice in your head gets harder to ignore. he presses his palm over the gushing wound. "no, no, no, no, no—! i-i can fix this, okay, you'll be okay! i can fix—"

a massive sandy club slams into him. he cracks the wall with the force and he groans as he peels himself out of the crevices, his limbs wobbly and his head ringing.

sandman is smaller now, human-sized. he grips his weapon, and in his hands it transforms into a battleaxe, the blade edges gleaming as he compresses it to razor-sharp glass.

jungkook glances aside, where your body lays crumpled and limp, dark oily blood pooling under your shoulders. he looks back at flint marko and all he sees is red.

he doesn't use his webs, doesn't wall-crawl. he lunges like a panther and drives his fists into his face, his screams of agony tearing his throat up ten times over.

over and over. over and over.

marko groans weakly, his face swollen and bruised. his lips are thick and purple, blood and saliva spilling onto the floor.

jungkook knows the bones of his hands are cracked. he can feel them grinding against each other, but the pain doesn't register. all he knows is that a villain is still alive, and that his best friend is not.

he raises his fist, flexing his hand. his chest heaves. he wonders what sandman would look like if he didn't hold back. he might knock off his head.

that sounded good.

his fist comes down – and halts.

jungkook tugs. a large hand tightens around his wrist. he raises his eyes.

large, filmy white eyes stare down at him, a grinning mouth like a red slash filled with too-big teeth widening slightly.

"HELLO, PRETTY SPIDER," venom purrs, eight-foot-tall body blocking out the hazy sunlight. "LET'S TALK."

jungkook makes a sound between a gasp and a retch as he pats his face and finds only skin. "my mask—"

"DON'T BOTHER," interrupts venom, tugging jungkook's wrist and pulling him off of marko's limp body, whose chest still rises and falls shallowly. "WE ALREADY KNOW WHO YOU ARE."

"you do?" jungkook rasps, on his knees and still swaying dangerously. "'we'…?"

venom's long scarlet tongue lolls out of his mouth as he grins. those murky white eyes are hard to track. "HE DOESN'T WANT YOU TO KNOW HIM. EVEN NOW HE SHOUTS AT ME." his eyes narrow and he glances aside. "BUT I CAN PUT HIM BACK TO SLEEP IF HE WANTS IT."

jungkook swallows, his eyelids heavy and his body begging to lay down and rest. he cradles his ruined fists, blood seeping through the cloth.  "i don't… i…"

the monstrous, grating voice almost seems to soften. "ALLOW ME TO HEAL YOU."

he offers a large clawed hand. his skin is black and oily, somewhere between flesh and liquid. it never stays in one place for long, swirling and smoothing over in faint patterns like mixing thick paint. heart in his mouth and mind in pieces, jungkook places his hand in venom's.

the black oily goo begins to spread over venom's knuckles, seeping into jungkook's suit and skin. the feeling is cold and damp and jungkook panics, scratching at his skin and yanking his arm back, but venom holds fast, and his inhumanly bulky body begins to shrink – down, down. oily blackness gives way to soft human skin.

you gaze back at jungkook, eyes apprehensive and sorrowful. his hand lays in yours. you lick your lips, glancing down at the black shirt and jacket over your heart. like it never even happened.

"hey," you greet softly, your voice a comforting low rumble.

jungkook stares up at you: still, silent, unseeing. his eyes well with tears, and he doesn't move, his gaze doesn't shift, as they slip down his cheeks, creating new clean tracks over his dusty, bloodstained cheeks.

your lips quirk up mirthlessly. "look like you've seen a ghost."

"no," he whispers in a voice like sandpaper. he yanks his hand away and rubs his eyes roughly until stars and colours bloom in his vision. "no, no, i'm going crazy, oh, god—" his voice cracks on the last word, his shoulders shaking.

you fall to your knees, taking his hands firmly in yours and pinning them to his sides. "look at me. look at me, baby," you whisper, "open your eyes."

stubbornly, they remain screwed shut. he shakes his head constantly, his shoulders hunching over. venom returns to you, black tendrils trickling back between the cells of your body.

you sigh, glancing down at your entwined hands. you link your fingers with his. "you're probably disgusted with me, i know. you've read the reports, watched the news. you know what i am – what we are. we're not a hero like you are. i understand if you don't want me to be your boyfriend anymore."

at that, he lets out a terrified little gasp and his eyes shoot open.

"there we go," you murmur. "but i was telling the truth. we aren't compatible."

"shut up."

you glance up. "what?"

"shut up," he repeats, louder. his voice is shaky. "i'm… you're… i'm still processing the first part. slow down. please."

"what first part?"

his head snaps up, the anger in his expression taking you by surprise. "the fucking part where you aren't fucking dead!"

his voice echoes in the empty train station, half-ruined and buried in sand. his chest heaves after the outburst.

he exhales shakily and sits back on his heels, turning his hands over and pressing his thumbs against his knuckles. there is no pain, no grinding broken bones. "i… just let me…"

he sways on the spot and keels over. you rush forward and catch him, cradling him in your arms.

"baby," you whisper, shaking him slightly. "baby."

the sirens of police cars swerving on the gritty roads outside catch your attention. once they've secured the civilians, they'll be closing in on marko quickly, and he doesn’t look like he's in any position to wake up soon, let alone fight back. you glance down at jungkook's limp body, his eyes closed and lips parted slightly.

you shift him in your arms and lift him easily, walking past the pool of your own blood. the red spider-man mask sits crumpled on the ground, and a black tendril scoops it up as you move past it. with each step, venom grows, engulfing your body until it's just him cradling jungkook's small body in one muscular arm. he exits the train station and lifts a hand, shooting a thick black webby tendril into the air and launching himself up, away from the sirens and the journalists' chatter.

—

when jungkook opens his eyes again, he's staring at the golden sky. the sun is about to touch the horizon behind pillars and pillars of glassy skyscrapers.

a hand cards through his hair, gentle and familiar. he turns his head.

you smile down at him, hair tussling in the wind. you're wearing a different set of black clothes. his zip-up hoodie slips down his shoulder and you pull it back up.

"morning, sleepyhead," you hum, combing his unruly hair with your fingers. "feeling better?"

he blinks, bleary-eyed, at his shoes. "what…? how did i…"

"you passed out after fighting sandman. we headed home long enough to grab you a jacket and then we decided to bring you up here, away from the hubbub of the city streets. thought you'd appreciate it." you glance up, gazing at the sunset. "can't deny that view, either."

"'we'," jungkook repeats, his thoughts chugging slowly. he blinks and shoots upright, staring back at you with huge brown eyes. "oh my god. you're that guy. you're venom."

"half of him, yes," you agree, watching him carefully.

he turns back around, staring at his lap. part of him wants to throw up. another part wants to scream, and yet another wants to leap into your arms, cry, and pass out again.

instead, he turns back to you. "tell me how it works."

"how venom works?"

jungkook nods, turning to face you fully. he folds his legs under himself.

"well—" the words get jumbled up in your head. where could you even start?

THE BEGINNING.

so you do. the lab breach, the symbiosis achieved, the fight with riot and the rocket. jungkook listens attentively, nodding along but otherwise quiet. sometime during your recounting, he slides closer to you, sharing the air conditioning unit as a backrest. he tucks his knees up against his chest and wraps his arms around them, resting his head against your shoulder.

when you finish, you sit in silence for a time, wondering if you've missed anything. venom doesn't think you have, so you glance down at jungkook, searching him for a response.

"so…" he begins quietly, "is that why you never carry a bag around anymore, yet always seem to have a laptop and pens when you need it? venom has freaking hammerspace?"

you chuckle, resting your temple against the top of jungkook's head. "no, interdimensional pockets of spacetime, obviously. yeah, it's how he can get so big despite originally being the size of a large bag of chips. he pulls our mass out of… somewhere."

"somewhere," jungkook echoes, thoughtlessly. despite the tone of his voice, you can feel him tensing up against you, all his muscles like steel corded rope as he leans in. new science never fails to excite him, and he's always been a hard-science kind of guy with physics and chemistry. your specialisation in alien biochem opens a new world to him, and it doesn't help that he loves hearing you talk.

you wrap an arm around him, kissing his temple. "i'm not really sure how it works. that was one of the things we were looking into when the lab, er, went kablooey. maybe vee could tell you about it."

his eyes widen. "would he really?"

DON'T LOOK AT ME.

you clear your throat. "uh… he doesn't know how it works, either. i don't think they had scientists on their asteroid."

jungkook visibly dims at that, but shrugs and nuzzles into your shoulder with a sigh. "it's okay. i just think that's so cool. i could finally stop making a point to take my camera out with me – and i'd never run out of film." he jerks back, staring up at you with wide eyes. "you could take all you wanted with you on planes! no more stupid weight limit. man, that would have been so helpful in italy."

"yeah, but bad for your bank account, baby," you tease, nudging him with a grin.

"shut up. like you didn't wear that necklace for two straight years." he gazes up at you with gentle brown eyes. they flicker down to your lips and back to your eyes. he leans in.

you meet him halfway, cradling the back of his head and curling your fingers in his hair. you groan softly as he nips at your lower lip. a low, pleased rumble reverberates in your chest and stomach as he swings his legs over yours, straddling your lap and tilting his head to kiss you deeper. his lips are soft, if a little chapped. luckily for him, you're wearing chapstick.

he sits back with a hum and smacks his lips. "mm. cherry?"

"guess again," you murmur, and his brow pinches slightly. he leans in, capturing your lips, and when he parts, he takes your heart with him, comfortingly sitting behind his teeth.

he frowns, deep in thought. "is it… cola?"

"no. it was cherry," you admit, sliding your hands up his thighs and squeezing. "i lied – sorry. i wanted another kiss."

he laughs and thunks his forehead against yours, pecking your lips. "i knew it. nothing else quite captures the flavour of synthetic cherry like chapstick. it's super sweet. like you," he adds cheekily, eyes crinkling. "you're so stupid... you could have just kissed me again. i wouldn't have minded."

you hum quietly, avoiding eye contact. you lift your hands off of him. "i just… are you faking it right now?"

his smile vanishes. "faking what?"

"you're acting like you don't care about what i've done. i'm a murderer," you implore, "you shouldn't want me anymore. you're spider-man and the best hero we don't deserve. can we at least talk about it, rather than pretending as if nothing happened?"

he sits quietly on your lap for a while, shifting his weight to fully rest on you. he stares down at his hands and plays with the zipper of your jacket, wiggling the metal tag up and down about an inch either way.

"i don't know what to say," he whispers eventually, not lifting his eyes. "i love you. you know that. i really, really do. i just never thought we'd have such… fundamentally different takes on vigilantism."

he chuckles at himself, a little self-deprecating. "you make me really happy, and it might be cruel, but i don't want to give you up for anything. not even if you, um, bit people's heads off… you don't do that anymore, right?"

"no," you reply quickly, shaking your head. "no – no. it won't happen again, either. we've found a better way to sustain him. he especially likes those little… hershey's kisses."

"he likes kisses?" jungkook sounds surprised.

"yeah, i know. i had the same reaction." you shrug, cuddling jungkook's waist and pressing your cheek into his shoulder. he drapes his arms over your shoulders. "anyway. thank you. for… for being selfish."

"you say it as if you expected differently," he says softly, gaze searching and imploring. "you really thought i'd hate you?"

silently, you nod. your hair tickles jungkook's cheek.

"i could never hate you," he says firmly, cupping your face. "we've been through so much together. we can – we can get through this. maybe you guys can just… tone down the violence a little, maybe?"

"we'll try our best," you whisper. your gaze flickers down to his lips. "thank you."

he hums softly, pressing his forehead against yours. he closes his eyes, the gentle breeze loosening his hair from behind his ears. you tuck them back and cup his jaw, bringing him in for a deep, hungry kiss. he moans into it and wraps his arms around your shoulders, the raised black webbing of his suit bumping over the base of your neck as he cups it.

you part with a sharp gasp as he nips your lower lip with his teeth, the sting only serving to deepen the hunger gnawing in your lower stomach.

jungkook jerks back, eyes widening. hastily, he wipes the blood from your lip, already babbling apologies. "o-oh, crap, i'm sorry! i'm so sorry, i didn't mean to – does it hurt—?"

"fuck, we liked that," you rasp, gazing up at your perfect pretty boy in your lap, and you swear you can see your own pupils blow with lust in some strange godly out-of-body vision. you grin up at jungkook and pull his arms back around you, hearing his already-quick heartbeat pound.

"i… i don't – why do you want to bleed?" he sounds so clueless, so worried, and a deep, pleased rumble escapes your chest. no one knows who it comes from.

"i like anything you give me. 'sides, it's not like you can really hurt me, you know? since you know my big dark secret, and all."

he glances away. he tugs at your jacket's lapels, straightening them for the sake of it. "i don't… i don't really like the taste of blood," he mumbles, rubbing his cheek with the back of his knuckles to brush away the tickle of hair. "i like it when we're rough, but – but just no blood, please. i like anything until that point."

your gaze softens. venom seals the two edges of the nick without having to be asked, and you dab away the remaining blood with your sleeve. "does it remind you too much of bad fights?"

he nods, exhaling shakily. "and you. today. i can’t – i really th-thought you were—"

you hush him as he leans into you, gripping you tight. he buries his head in your neck and you kiss his shoulder, cradling him as he curls into your embrace. "you wanna head home? make some waffles and cuddle?"

"n-no. i'll deal with it later when my brain catches up, so let's pretend like it didn't happen. right now, my suit is so painfully tight and i really want you to fix it."

"sure, yeah. but you know venom controls our suit, right?" you say, lips curving into a soft, half-teasing smile. "i'm no seamstress. tailoring anything but the inseam is a challenge."

"shut up," he groans, grabbing your hand and pressing it against his bulge. you can feel the stiffness of a cup, thin enough to keep his silhouette clean and flat. "you're gonna put me out of a job if you get any quippier."

"i'd be a pretty sick spider-man." suddenly, you push him down, flipping him onto his back as you slide between his warm thick thighs. you cradle the back of his head before resting it against the concrete rooftop, careful with him as you always are. his eyes widen and he flushes dark as your clothes melt into an inky black layer, skin-tight, just like his. as venom hems off the neck, black tendrils sinking into the skin behind your ears and nape and below your adam's apple, a flourish of white spreads across your chest like a lily unfurling.

"h-hey," he protests weakly, though he reaches up to trace the slender spider motif embossed into the suit. "i designed that."

you scoff, rolling your hips against his teasingly. "can you even enact intellectual property laws if you've got a secret identity? mine now – finders-keepers." you nip at his neck and kiss your way down the centre of his chest, feeling his breaths stutter as you press the spider emblem in the middle of his chest. "now, that is some view…"

softly, he whines and kicks your thigh, petulantly covering his bare chest. all it does is tense his biceps and squeeze his chest together, all impossibly chiselled. fuck, why couldn't you have gotten bit by a radioactive spider instead of playing host to an alien who exacerbates your worst instincts?

"not fair," he huffs, pushing your face away from his washboard abs. he tugs the suit back over his arms and smirks when you groan at the loss. "mm… i can't take your clothes off, so you shouldn't be able to take mine off. what if i wanna see you, too?"

"what, not a fan of the black suit?" you pout, flexing an arm teasingly. you don't miss how his eyes snap to it, his pink lips parting slightly.

"don't make me lie to get it off you." he taps the emblem at his chest, tightening the suit, and swings his legs around so he can mirror your kneeling position. he glances down and hums, wrapping his arms around your waist and propping his chin against your chest as he gazes up at you. "might be a literary message here. anti spider-man versus the original… morals, outlooks, aesthetics?"

"i'll go back to my normal look if you suck my cock in your suit," you offer.

jungkook's cheeks darken as he giggles, embarrassed. "y-you're serious?"

"yeah. we'll even do it now. think of it as a down payment." the suit shifts and billows – and you're wearing jeans and a leather jacket again. you exhale softly, palming your hardening cock, and jungkook's dark eyes can't tear themselves from devouring the sight. "so? thoughts?"

"i wasn't talking about your outfit," he murmurs, sliding his gloved hands up over your knees and thighs. he shifts, pressing his nose into your bulge, and gazes up at you through his long lashes. "you really wanna fuck me… i-in the suit?"

"shit, fuck yeah," you breathe, carding your fingers through his hair. "that's so fucking hot."

he giggles again, already reaching for your belt and zipper. if venom unentwines your belt for him, he doesn't mention it. "naughty, naughty… what does venom think?"

"he thinks you're our pretty spider, but you already know that," you huff, closing your eyes as he mouths at your boxers. "he's dirty-talking. no, i'm not telling him that. you can do it yourself later if he wants to hear it."

"so, my boys are happy, yeah?" he purrs, nuzzling into your twitching cock. "mm, i can tell. you're drooling, baby."

"because you're being a damn tease," you groan, tipping your head back against the concrete block forming the roof access. you buck your hips into him – THAT IS PITIFUL – and jungkook moans softly, teasing the band of your underwear. "please, nnh, please…"

"didn't quite catch that. you want this?"

"shit, yes, i know you heard it. fuck me, my dick's gonna fall off from how fucking hard it is," you complain, swallowing harshly as he accepts it with a proud little smile on his lips, tugging your underwear under your shaft. he hums, pleased, as he gazes up at it, stroking the base lazily.

"has venom made you more impatient? try to relax, honey… don't want you bursting in my mouth after three seconds, now, do we?"

"you're such a jerk…"

"mhm, yeah. venom's made you less patient. do you remember when we used those handcuffs? you were so good for me then." he licks a long, flat stripe up your cock from base to head and flicks the tip of his tongue over the glans rapidly, moaning softly as your hips jerk into his mouth.

your nails dig into the rough concrete below you, cold under your shoulders. they crumble slightly under your touch. "oh, fuck… those were real, weren't they? where'd you get them?"

"they tried to arrest spider-man once, way back. but i have a detective friend who happened to be nearby, and she helped me out. didn't take the cuffs from me, though."

it dawns on you like a bucket of ice down your neck. "that's why we never used them again. you snapped them to get me out of them."

jungkook glances up at you, mouthing at your balls contentedly. his eyes crinkle when he grins. "smart cookie."

easily, he takes the head into his mouth, suckling wetly as he strokes the rest in his hand. he pulls away briefly to spit on your cock – jesus fucking christ – and his pink lips stretch pale around your shaft as he lowers his head, swallowing several inches in one motion.

your head tips back and a drawled moan escapes your lips. you chuckle lazily, twisting a hand in his hair as he bobs his head, gradually taking more into his mouth. looking at him, that shiny skintight red-and-blue – you could burst right there.

fucking a superhero. you never could have dreamt it. a superhero is giving you head so sloppy it's dripping down your balls.

hm. maybe venom is influencing you more than you thought, because two months ago such a thought would've set your face on fire, yet all it does now is lead you to imagine what new positions you could try with your pretty spider, how else you could have him swallowing your come.

popping off with a wet gasp, jungkook grins up at you with half-lidded eyes, panting for breath. he nibbles his lower lip as he pumps your cock steadily, his gaze glued to how the generous precome drips over his knuckles and down the web-shooters of his suit. he giggles and shivers with a thought – how full would he feel if you finished inside him? has that changed?

he stuffs your cock into his mouth to hide his blush.

"fuck, sweetheart, 'm gonna come if you keep sucking like that," you groan, the filthy schlk-schlk of his hot wet throat bubbling arousal in your gut. his nose brushes the warm skin of your lower stomach and his gaze is dark and clouded when he gazes up at you, his throat constantly constricting and loosening as he swallows around your throbbing dick.

he doesn't say anything, but he doesn't need to. his grip tightens on your thighs, digging into your skin, and he swirls his tongue desperately over the veins, flicking and curling as he feels your rapid, booming heartbeat in his mouth.

saliva drips down his chin as you thrust sharply into his mouth with a hissed curse. his eyes roll back as hot, thick come bursts down his throat and he can't even whimper – no room to. your fist yanks his head closer and he drools as what feels like gallons of come warm his belly. your hips grind roughly against his lips.

when your grip finally loosens, jungkook collapses backwards onto an elbow with a raspy gasp, chest heaving. he's never had much of a gag reflex, not since the bite, but fuck…

when his eyes flutter open, he wipes his slick, swollen lips and sits up, skin too hot for his suit. his cock throbs against the cup, wet and aching. he nearly collapses, arms unable to hold up his own weight, but you're there to catch him, one hand twisting in the back of his jacket to hold him up by the scruff like a kitten. he whimpers, fingers tugging ineffectively at your clothes.

"thanks, baby," you say huskily, pulling him into your arms and crushing your lips to his. the taste is sweet with a slight salty tang and he moans as your tongue pushes against his, messy and animal. he melts into your arms, limbs like noodles as you kiss him and lap up your own come from the corners of his mouth.

he nearly cries when you slip your thigh between his legs. he grips your shoulders for balance as he ruts against your thigh, needy gasps and moans spilling freely from his lips – you rumble your approval when he wraps his arms tightly around you, temple pressed against yours and lips right by your ear. his hips lose their rhythm until he's practically humping you, the stinging pleasure of his trapped cock spiking hot desire up his spine.

with one hand, you grope his ass, rumbling purrs sighed from deep in your chest. you can taste the embarrassment sweetening his eager moans – how lucky you are to have such a cute little spider.

but you are HUNGRY.

thick black claws shape your fingers. jungkook squeaks at the sharp riiip of cloth and he gasps, stiffening and twisting around to check the damage instinctively. you kiss his shoulder placatingly as you slap his ass, squeezing the soft meat and muscle.

"fuck—! it's cold," he whines, gripping your wrist. "oh, man, my suit's already torn from earlier – you couldn’t've just waited until i took it off?"

"wouldn't that just make you colder?" you reply, amused.

"well, now i have to replace the entire blue section from my hips to my knees! i can't just sew a line up my ass, now, can i?"

"yeah, yeah, you can bitch to me later. i'll fix it," you huff, grabbing him by his little waist and pushing him down beside you. you flip him over onto his stomach and tug his hips up. you take a moment to admire your boyfriend. how nice that is to think – your boyfriend. "mm… just wanna eat you right up."

tucking his head against his forearms, he gazes over his shoulder at you, face flushed and hair mussed. he grins, a little breathless. "please don't eat me, mister venom…"

your other half growls, his hunger overtaking any reservations you have about prepping jungkook properly. you move before you can think, your lips parting and your clawed fingers pulling to reveal his twitching asshole.

your long, long tongue pushes into him, saliva squelching obscenely as it wriggles inside him, flicking and curling against his tight, gummy walls.

he squeals, his heart jumping into his throat with shock, fear, and a healthy dose of burning liquid desire. he knows what it is before his brain can make a thought out of it. it's so deviant that the shock and shame make his tip drip faster. he tugs his jacket sleeves over his knuckles and hides his face in the soft pools of cotton, biting down harshly on his arm to muffle his wanton cries and helpless moans.

"mmgh – ngh! oh fuck. holy fuck, b-baby—! baby, n-not so fast, i'll – 'm sensitive…!"

hot and thick, thick as a cock, your tongue worms its way into him, thrusting and writhing relentlessly. he is plump and soft and utterly delectable, a sweet tasty treat you'll hunger for long after you pull out from his clenching walls.

you can't think – your dick throbs – you see the world through a faint filmy white. you're more monster than man, able to taste the wine-heavy sweetness of jungkook's arousal in the air. it is hard to breathe through his scent – you have to push against it, like wading through waist-high water.

his hips jerk away from you and you growl in warning, yanking him back towards you with a squelch of wetness. your saliva drips down his ass and thighs – thick thighs that quiver like leaves – and jungkook cries, his eyes rolling to show their whites.

somewhere in the back of your brain, you think he came. probably hard. obsessed with his sweet, soft taste as you are, however, and unable to see his cock because of his suit – it makes no difference to your animal indulgences.

jungkook babbles half-words and nonsense, punctuated by shouts of pleasure as your tongue wriggles and glides against his swollen prostate. he comes again with a cry, the stickiness between his thighs only growing with every passing minute.

he presses a shaky hand to his stomach, gasping for breath. he feels so full…

eventually, when jungkook's whines start to quieten, exhaustion making him sway, you begin to slow. your vision starts to clear. your jaw moves lazily against his puffy asshole and his whole body jerks, his hole clamping around your tongue. it feels more human, now.

slowly – somewhat reluctantly – you pull away, panting. his hole gapes slightly, dark and shining with saliva. you dip a clawed thumb against the edge, pulling gently, before pulling away to pat his ass. the motion is so different, so fond and strangely innocent, that it hard-reboots jungkook's half-melted brain. he blinks away the tears and the fog of lust, lifting his head from his arms.

"mmph… baby…?" he mumbles, his words slow and slurred. you tuck your nose into his warm neck, the bulk of your body heavy and comforting. your breaths are slow and steady and instinctually, he tries to match them.

he giggles, ticklish, as you nuzzle into his shoulder, a satisfied sigh fluttering past your lips. he strokes your hair, pressing his ass teasingly against your cock, still hard and heavy. "hah… you 'n' venom're gonna wear me out one day, y'know?"

his voice is wobbly, but pleased. you like it. "sweetheart, you don't have to. we can deal with it alone. you've already done so much for us."

"and let you waste your come? uh-uh. wanna feel it inside me." he wiggles his ass, making you groan. "c'mon, big boy… i'm getting soft."

"you're hard already?"

jungkook laughs at the surprise in your voice. "now that you know who i am, i don't have to hide it anymore. maybe you can even keep up with me."

lifting him up to kneel, you tug off his jacket and lay it down on the concrete. he hums and turns over to lay on his back, spreading his legs to give you room between them. he smiles sweetly up at you – your heart races.

you trace his suit's web patterns with a slight frown. "wait… so – this whole time, you've never really finished?"

"i finish. i just get hard again really quick." he blushes. "it's kinda humiliating, honestly, so i really want you to put it in before the clarity hits me like a truck. shit, was your cock always this big…?"

"you wish it was," you scoff, gripping the base and tapping the head against his hole. "you're such a size queen."

"m-mm, no, really, i seriously think it's – fuck!"

his head falls back as your cock pushes into him with minimal resistance. his walls clamp around you like a vice, drawing groans from both of you as you push in deeper, firm and steady in your pace. his hole swallows you up, and it's so damn warm and wet that you feel your control slip for a single frightening moment. jungkook moans sharply, back arching, as your claws dig into his skin hard enough to snap a normal person's bones.

jungkook's gasps are short and rapid in quick succession. he goes lax in your arms, arms limp above his head. you have him in your lap, his thighs resting atop yours.

"fuck," he hiccups after a giggle. you glance down, away from his drunken expression.

you shift your hips, drawing out, then push back in. a bulge in his stomach follows the motion. in your head, venom purrs at the sight, curling around your senses to feel what you feel like a lazy, satisfied cat.

"yeah," you whisper, experimentally setting a slow pace to really see it. you press your palm against the firmness of your cockhead. "yeah. fuck. you're so fucking hot, driving us downright crazy…"

you sound like an idiot, saying things that a high school jock would say to his cheerleader girlfriend in a teen movie. it's so shallow and repetitive that it makes you embarrassed, but jungkook's moans are extra loud after it, so it can't be all that bad.

still, you'd rather call him beautiful, if only to have him bury his face in your chest and laugh.

"fuck me," he breathes, reaching down and caressing your hands, black and clawed as they are. "fuck me hard – please, don't stop."

he gives you an addicted, lopsided grin, dark eyes blown with want. he cries out as your hips slap his ass, grinding into him. you pull out until the tip rests against his twitching hole and grin, sharper than usual. briefly, your eyes swirl white. "your wish is our command."

you drag him towards you as you thrust forward, your skin meeting with an obscene clap. through your lungs, venom groans, halfway between a growl and a catlike purr. your dick throbs inside his clenching walls, lining his insides with an audacious amount of precome… he'll have to do more than patch up his poor suit.

jungkook's eyes are squeezed shut, a hand planted firmly over his own mouth as your thrusts ravage his body. his hair bounces over his flushed cheeks, locks sticking to his temples with sweat. he seems to shimmer with it in the afternoon light, so unfairly pretty, as if he's dusted with crushed pearls…

you tug his hand away from his lips, parted with need, and your fingers twist through his own, clasping tightly. you rest your weight upon the first joint of each finger – you wouldn't want to rub the backs of his hands raw, after all. it's an easy feat with venom's claws creeping over your fingers from the knuckles like twisting vines.

"c'mon, spider," you purr, relishing the way his eyes flutter with each rough thrust. your balls slap against his ass. "don't be shy. we want to hear you BEG FOR IT."

when you slow down, really making him feel every pulse and twitch of your veins, he manages to crack his eyes open, though they flicker anxiously over the sky and glass towers surrounding you before landing on your face. he swallows, and a defiant glimmer shines in his eye. "no."

"no?" you chuckle. "gettin' cold feet? scared to make a whore out of yourself when you know we're both watching?"

"no," he repeats, a little harrumph passing past his lips. "i don't wanna work for it. you're my boyfriend – you're supposed to make me happy. are you slowing down because you want to tease me, or because you're too tired to keep up?"

a growl. "OH, YOU…"

grip tightening, you shift forward on your knees, hiking his thighs higher over yours – he gasps as your cockhead scrapes against his tender prostate on its way in. he sucks in a deep breath as you bottom out, his lashes fluttering, and the bulge in his belly moves as you do. "babe—"

"does it hurt?"

he shakes his head minutely. his bitten red lips part and he wraps his legs around your waist, digging his heels into the small of your back impatiently. "t-told you not to stop…"

you hum softly and resume a rough, steady pace, the obscene sound of wet skin slapping skin echoing far too loudly with his enhanced hearing. it's hard to ignore and he realises, suddenly, that he's still in the suit – maskless.

"h-hurry – hurry up," he whimpers, a shred of panic fluttering in his belly – or maybe that's just you. "if someone sees—"

"then they'll know how well spider-man takes cock." you smirk with a gloating glint in your eye.

"i'm being s-serious," he whines, breathless. unable to inject any sense of urgency into his words, he settles for squeezing your hands tightly, feeling and hearing the crack as venom imbeds himself into the concrete like tiny harpoons for support. you're trembling slightly – he can feel it in your legs – and he has an inkling that you're holding back more than your own urges.

"SO ARE WE," you reply as if it's obvious. you roll your hips tauntingly into his ass and his back arches, his hole clamping down around your veiny shaft. you hiss and the smirk on your face drops to make room for the irritated twitch of your brow. "fuck. don't squeeze too hard – i'll come early."

"e-early, he says! like you haven't been wringin' me of everything i have," jungkook huffs, squeaking in surprise when you let go of one of his hands to grip his waist and heft it higher, helping you to thrust deeper. your thick cockhead kisses his tender prostate, again and again and again – hot, sticky come drips down your shaft and balls and jungkook's suffocating cock throbs with a pulse of wetness when your claws dig into his skin in warning for his cheek.

you tap his hip absently, surveying your damage. "not everything."

you pause just long enough to seize his suit in both hands, and in one smooth motion, rip his suit to free his cock.

"honey—!"

with a quick swipe of your claw, his underwear falls apart and his dark, throbbing cock springs free. his underwear, looped around his thighs and waist like a jock, held the protective cup in place. you tug it out of his suit impatiently and toss it aside, much to his embarrassment, but he doesn't have long to stutter about it because your big hands close around his neck and your cock slams into him.

he wails. he lets out a bone-searing string of breathless cries and moans, tears welling up on his dark lashes as he grips your wrists and bounces with your rough primal pace. your thumb shifts over his adam's apple. you purr at the feeling of his moans, your name vibrating against your skin like a prayer and burning up your veins to settle in the base of your stomach, hot and coiled.

"SO PRETTY FOR US, SPIDER… SO TINY AND OBEDIENT. your cock is drooling – ALL FOR US," you rumble, shifting one hand to grip his shoulder instead. you cradle his head, turning it slightly to one side. you swear you can hear the blood roaring through his jugular and down, down, down to his heart, through it, and back up again, rushing rushing rushing through his arteries…

"mhm, f'you…! more – more, more," he babbles tearfully, his hard cock leaking a puddle onto his stomach. it leaks down his sides with your harsh thrusts, bouncing him off of your lap like a pretty little toy. your hips quicken, your grunts rumbling out as animal snarls as his cock smacks his stomach and yours throbs deep inside his trembling wet hole. "more! please, baby, fuck, feels so good! so fucking good, 'm gonna – yes! 'm coming—!"

you GROWL as his cock explodes onto his chest, sticky translucent come streaking his suit and dribbling down the black spider emblem. your thick cock pulses in his quivering heat and your orgasm crashes onto you in thundering waves, harder than anything you've ever felt. it feels a bit like dying: the way your thoughts melt into one another into a slosh of raw animal emotion, the blurry white-out vision, the feeling of every nerve and neuron firing at once in a desperate last hurrah that burns you up and shaves the meat off your bones for what seems like an eternity.

your eyes flutter open. the filmy white has receded.

jungkook hangs off of your cock, his hands loosely pressed against your chest. his head rests in one massive inky black palm, his back in the other. he gazes up at you with glossy, dazed eyes, something like awe glimmering in them as he pants, hot breath fanning your kiss-bitten lips.

like a dog satisfied with an under-the-table steak, venom slinks back into your skin, and jungkook shifts his quivering thighs around your hips to accommodate you better between them. he leans in and cups your cheek with a shaky hand – you don't think you'd notice it if venom wasn't boosting your senses – to kiss you gently, his soft slick lips moving against yours with lazy contentment.

you blink slowly at him, your brain still pulling itself together, and finally notice the state of him: sweat-damp hair, marked skin, bruised lips, ruined suit.

ruined suit…

"oh, shit," you croak, reaching between jungkook's legs to collect the thick white come dribbling down his thighs, still red with the imprint of your grip. it's starting to turn purple in places. "shit."

"it's okay! it's okay," he soothes, cupping your face. his voice is raspy and his chest heaves. "i can fix it. it's just a bit of thread."

"n-no, it's more than that," you whisper urgently, eyes widening as you hug jungkook to your chest. your cock shifts inside of him. it's almost tender. "i hurt you."

"i heal fast, honey, remember? tomorrow morning, i'll be right as rain. you'll see." he shifts on your lap and winces softly, inhaling sharply. "j-just – mm – pull out slowly, please. and lay me back – i can't feel my legs…"

"o-okay. okay. sorry," you mumble, being as gentle as you can. once he's comfortable, you reach down and slip yourself out little by little.

the head pops out, and a thick gush of come pools around jungkook's ass.

he groans at the feeling, his gaping asshole clenching futilely as it leaks your come like a damn waterfall. one of his hands presses against his stomach, the phantom feeling of you devastating his insides impossible to overcome. the other hand flicks lazily over his shaft a few times as he pants and regains his breath, his thighs trembling even as you try to comfort him. he's never looked so… drained before after nights together. not like he could fall asleep at any moment.

after a while of cleaning up – to the best of your ability – you find yourself sitting cross-legged by jungkook as he lays his head in your lap, halfway there to nodding off as the warm breeze musses his hair.

jungkook plays with your fingers as venom slowly stitches together shorts and a hoodie for him. black, of course. he insisted you all have to match. he's been rather quiet for a while, and when jungkook teased him about being so vocal just minutes ago, he'd huffed something about being hungry. the lack of energy was his reason for why he was threading the clothes onto jungkook's back so slowly, but you saw right through his excuses.

"how are you feeling?" you ask softly, fluttering your fingers at him.

he huffs and catches your hand without looking, glancing up at you. "honey, stop making it sound like i'm sick – i'm fine. a little achy, but nothing worse than hitting your funny bone on the edge of a door. the only thing that's taking its time is my voice. i sound like i've just gone to a club – nightclub, i mean – and had an hour-long conversation."

you chuckle, watching as venom finally finishes the sleeve he'd been working on for the last few minutes. after a moment, the surface of the hoodie ripples like water, and a white spider symbol, sharp and long, blooms from the centre of his chest. it settles back into simple cotton and polyester.

you touch the mark, tracing its edges. "i think it's a nice design. maybe you should try a new suit for the next one, since this one's pretty messed up."

"and whose fault is that?' he snarks, sliding his palm beneath yours and shaking it slightly. he glances down and nibbles on his lower lip. "it's nice, i admit… but it might be dangerous. i could remember i'm wearing it and get distracted, and then i'll smack into a crane or something."

"spider-man gets distracted?"

"only for big boys with big you-knows," he whispers, blushing and giggling to himself. he props himself up and reclines in your arms, humming contently and sighing as your arms wrap securely around him, heavy and warm. "i'm kidding. not really, but i'm kidding. i'd love you even if you took over the world and made us all subjects to your dark dominion. please don't, though, because i'd be morally obligated to stand up for the little guy and i don't wanna hurt you, y'know?"

you nod with a smile, brushing your thumb over his lower lip. he purses his lips against it for a little kiss. "i promise i won't go crazy and become a supervillain."

he falls quiet for a while, settling his head back into your lap. he closes his eyes, dark lashes brushing his cheeks, and brings your hand up to rest on his chest. his heartbeat is slow but sure, and you can feel your muscles relaxing just by the sight of his serene expression.

he doesn't hate you. he doesn't hate you.

he won't leave you alone. not ever – you understand this now. in this world of gods and aliens, you couldn't be happier with anyone else by your side – you are just mortal, just human. so very human. even if a planet-eating god sticks their fingers into the threads of the multiverse, melting existence as you know it, at least you'll be able to look into his eyes and know that at the very least, you were loved – and that is worth more than anything.

[hallietblr]

my favourite birthday girl | j.fisher x reader

request: i would like to request can it be where jere and i are best friends and its my bday belly and conrad throw a surprise bday party for me at the becks beach house and jeremiah & i go upstairs and we go in his bedroom he confesses that he liked me since last summer and i have my first time with jere trying different sex positions like hes on top of me and im on top of him riding him & doing cowgirl style position lots of kissing can it be smut/angst and is it okay if i include my name and if not you can do y/n thanks babe❤️❤️❤️❤️🫶🏻🥰

a/n: i fricking LOVE this!! i had so much fun writing it and i hope you all enjoy!

warnings: SMUT (minors DNI), oral (fem! receiving), swearing, alcohol consumption, and jeremiah being a total sweetheart

—

the sun was shining brightly through the windows of my bedroom, the morning breeze coming through smelling of sea salt. i flutter my eyes open, taking in the warmth of the summer. i reach for my phone that was charging by my bed side. the moment the lockscreen wakes, it’s full of birthday messages.

i feel myself smile as i go through the individual texts from all my friends back home in maine. i respond to them all, thanking each of them for the kind and loving messages.

after doing so, i finally decide that it’s time for me to get out of bed. i stretch out the slumber from my body before crawling out of the warm bed. i grab my phone and my bluetooth speaker and head over to my bathroom to start my birthday right.

cruel summer by taylor swift starts playing loudly as i pull off my pajamas, which was in reality one of jeremiah’s old t-shirts. i decide to text my friends to see what the plans were for the day, assuming they had something in mind.

—

SUMMER GANG☀️🌊🫶

y/n!

goodmorning guys!! what are the plans for today?

stevie:

con and i are going fishing at the pier today

belly <3:

i told my mom that i’ll go to the store with her today!! sorry girl!

y/n!:

that’s fine haha have fun! tell laur i said hi:)

j:

i should be available today i think

connie:

i thought ur coming fishing?

stevie:

yeah!! boys trip!!

belly <3:

wow i’ve nvr seen us all so busy lol

j:

wdym it’s a regular day

connie:

nvm mom says u need to clean ur room jere

stevie:

LOL

belly <3:

so true, it’s gross jeremiah

j:

shut upp

urs isn’t any better bells

belly <3:

:(

y/n!:

stop being mean j

—

i close my phone, a bit disappointed that it appeared that all my friends forgot about my birthday. i try to shake it off and assume that they’re all busy, so remembering a birthday isn’t that big of a deal.

i step into my shower, washing my hair with my coconut shampoo and conditioner, lathering my body with body wash, and shaving every inch of my body. i sing to taylor swift as i shower, feeling my muscles relax in the warm water. i dry myself off with a towel and pull on a cute purple summer dress that i had gotten earlier last week.

after putting on some makeup and doing my hair, i figured that i was ready to go downstairs to see my family. at least they would remember my birthday.

you only turn seventeen once, plus laurel, susannah, and my mom always told me that seventeen is an amazing year.

my mom was preparing my favourite smoothie bowl when i got to the kitchen. her face lit up after seeing me turn the corner and a smile drawn up her face, “happy birthday, my babygirl!” she exclaimed, pulling me into a tight embrace.

i hug her back, “thank you, momma!”

she hands me the beautiful smoothie bowl, “here you go, sugar! let me go get you your presents!”

my mom scurries away to her office before returning with multiple gifts all wrapped up in colourful gift wrap. she places them on the kitchen island before sitting down beside me.

i was already half way done my breakfast when my dad and baby sister came into the kitchen.

“happy seventeenth, babydoll” my dad grins, planting a kiss on my forehead, “i can’t believe how grown up you are already.”

“happy birthday sissy!” my four year old sister yells, hugging my leg. i ruffle her hair, thanking the both of them.

my mom urges me to open up the presents, she had always been a huge gift giver — seeing people’s reactions were her favourite thing. i open the sealed boxes, revealing lululemon clothing, a new ipad, gorgeous jewelry, and some makeup products that i’ve been wanting to get.

“mom!” i exclaim, in shock of the overwhelming amount of gifts, “you didn’t have to!”

“oh, honey,” she coos, brushing my hair, “it’s your seventeenth birthday! of course i had to, do you like them?”

i look at her with my mouth opened agape, “yes, yes! of course i love them all! you know me so well, thank you!”

my arms wrap around my mom, squeezing her tight.

“my first baby,” she whispers into my ear so my sister, lindsay, doesn’t hear her, “i love you with my whole heart.”

i finish up the rest of my breakfast, while also admiring my new items. my dad also takes a few photos of us, most likely to post on his facebook page later. luckily, i look decent right now.

“eat up,” my dad says to me, “your friends are probably waiting for you.”

i shrug, “they’re all busy today.”

my mom turns to me with a raised eyebrow, “seriously? do you want me to call susannah?”

i shake my head quickly, “no! it’s alright, really.”

“i’m sorry, baby” my dad squeezes my shoulder, “you can hang out with us today.”

i give him a small smile, “that sounds good.”

the rest of the day was uneventful, well not exactly. it was moreso just a typical day for us. my sister and i went swimming in our pool, i watched tv with my parents, and scrolled through my phone a ton. i really didn’t want to confront my friends about them forgetting my birthday, it would’ve been immature was what i told myself. it’s not like i’m six anymore.

i was laying on my bed when i received a text message.

—

j:

heyy pretty

wanna come over? we just came back from fishing 🎣

y/n!:

sure :)

j:

awesome! see you soon!!

also wear something nice ;)

y/n!:

why?

j:

not that you don’t always look nice!!!

my mom wants to take photos or smt lol

y/n!:

oooook

—

my brows furrow in slight confusion of the request but i shrug it off. i get up from my laying position and go to my closet to find something ‘nice’. i find a black satin slip dress that i brought from back home, i figured this would be nice enough. i put it on and look at myself in front of my mirror.

i smooth down the material of the dress, checking how it looks from the side and from behind. i silently pray that jeremiah would like it, i’ve overheard him, conrad, and steven talk about how jeremiah is an ass man multiple times — considering how the satin material of the dress perfectly fits my bum, i’m convinced he’ll appreciate it.

i grab my phone, sunglasses, and my favourite lip gloss before heading downstairs. i see my parents cuddled up on the couch, watching a movie together with my sister fast asleep in the space next to them.

i slide on my white converse and head over to them, “i’m going over to the fishers.” i tell them. they smile and remind me to have fun and to be home by two am.

the walk over to the fisher summer home is brief, a quick five minute walk. them living only two houses over from mine always came in handy. i open up the front door before my vision became black.

“do you trust me?” he says, jeremiah’s hands clamped over my eyes.

“if you ruin my mascara, j, i might cry.” i joke, “yes, i do trust you.”

“okay, good.” i can hear his infamous smile in his voice, “come with me.”

he guides me slowly through the house, his hands still over my eyes. jeremiah lifts them off and it takes me a moment before noticing all the decorations put up around the kitchen. there are streamers hanging from the walls and across the ceilings, so many pretty balloons in every corner of the room, a huge ‘happy birthday’ sign hanging on the cupboards.

my hand flyes to clamp over my open mouth, “oh my god!”

steven, belly, laurel, susannah, and conrad all jump up from their hiding spot behind the kitchen island.

“surprise!” they all scream out. i smile widely, taking in everything,

“you guys!” i gush, as im being pulled into a hug from jeremiah, “thank you!”

his muscular arms hold me and he plants two kisses on my hair, “did you really think we forgot your birthday, pretty girl?”

i laugh, “well maybe! you guys are forgetful sometimes… like the time you forgot belly and i at the walmart!”

he rolls his eyes playfully, “oh shush, that was one time!”

“we never forget birthdays here.” susannah giggles before also hugging me, “happy birthday my gorgeous and beaming girl.”

everyone takes their turn in hugging me and wishing me a happy birthday. i thank each of them individually, the smile never leaving my face once.

“who planned this?” i ask laurel, who was carefully pulling out the birthday cake from the fridge.

“it was all belly and connie’s idea” she smiles, “now go sit!”

i take my seat next to jeremiah and steven before laurel brings the cake with seventeen candles on it in front of me. they all sing happy birthday to me and i close my eyes to make a wish.

every year since i was five years old, my birthday wish has been the same. not even just for my birthday, anytime i saw a shooting star, or tossed a penny in a fountain, or honestly any other occasion that required making a wish — it has always been the same.

it was wishing for jeremiah to notice me in the same way that i see him. it’s all i’ve ever wanted, as stupid as it can get.

i blow out all the candles and susannah cuts up the cake into slices before serving it to everyone. belly reminds me of all the birthday presents that they had gotten me, and to open it later.

after cake, susannah and laurel agree to leave the home to go to a cocktail bar so that the kids can have the house to themselves for a few hours. more teenagers from cousins start showing up, all of them wishing me a happy birthday as they come in.

drinks are being served, music is playing loudly off the multiple speakers scatter around the home, beer pong matches are being played by the pool, people dancing.

jeremiah stays next to me for the whole night, we chat with a few of our friends while sipping our seltzers.

“do you wanna go upstairs for a bit?” jeremiah says to me in a hushed tone, “y’know, to get away from this?”

i nod, “yeah, for sure.”

he smiles, taking my hand into his own and guiding me through the crowd and up the stairs. we walk to his bedroom, he closes the door behind me and locks it. jeremiah places his drink on his dresser and offers to put mine next to it, i agree and soon we’re both seated on his bed.

we make small talk, him asking about my birthday so far as he rummages around in his desk drawer. he sits back down beside me, facing me. he places a small velvet box into my hands,

“open it, my favourite birthday girl.” he smirks, looking into my eyes. his hand was on my thigh and i can feel myself blushing.

i think i can get lost in his ocean eyes, they’re so beautiful and full of life. i smile and carefully open it, inside was a gorgeous golden ring with a large (what im assuming was a fake) diamond on it.

“j…” i gasp, lifting the ring out of its box and admiring it, “this must have costed a fortune.”

he shrugs, “anything for you, look on the band.”

i bring the ring closer to my eyes and see that there’s an engraving on the inside of the band.

in love with my best friend <3

my jaw drops, “jeremiah?”

i look up at him, our eyes interlocking. he slowly nods, “i love you, y/n — i’ve always have, i thought it was a childhood crush and i don’t think i really realized until last summer that i truly do love you.”

“can i?” he asks, taking the ring from my hand. i nod and he carefully slips it onto my finger before being it to his lips and kissing it.

i pull him into a kiss, my hands rested on his cheeks and his on my waist. he kissed back almost immediately. my hands move down to his built chest and gently push him down onto his back, our lips never leaving each others. i adjust my legs so im straddled on him,

“i’ve always loved you too.” i whisper against his lips, he smiles into the kiss and kisses me harder.

his fingers fiddle with the edge of my dress, hands sliding up and down the back of my thighs before squeezing my ass slowly, “god, i couldn’t take my eyes off of you in this dress. it makes your body look so fucking good.” jeremiah groans.

i lower my crotch onto the evident tent in his pants, he gasps at the contact while slowly grind my hips on his.

“fuck, you’re gonna make me come in my pants.” he moans into my ear as i flip my hair onto one side. i bring my face to his jawline, kissing it and licking the soft skin. his hands tighten around my ass and i moan at the contact.

his hand slips under my dress and to the lace material of my thong, his finger slide underneath the band of it. he lifts it before letting it go, the snap of my underwear against my skin making me moan louder.

“sit on my face,” he tells me in a low voice, i feel myself getting even more wet and excited at the tone of it, “let me give you another birthday gift.”

he lifts me by the waist and moves me so my core is hovering above his mouth. i grab onto his head board while jeremiah slowly moves the lace material to the side and lowers me onto his face.

i gasp loudly when his tongue licks a long stride between my folds. he moans into me, “fuck, you’re so wet for me, baby.” he mumbles against me, the vibrations causing me to throw my head back in pleasure.

jeremiah dips his tongue into me, licking up all the juices and tracing figure eights against me. i squeeze the headboard tighter, becoming a moaning mess quickly. his tongue is magic. he fucks me with his mouth, my thighs shaking around his head,

“shit, jere.” i cry out, feeling my high coming closer. his hands squeeze my ass yet again before landing a smack on my left ass cheek. i moan loudly in response, my body flowing with immense pleasure, “fuck, i’m gonna come!”

he never slows his tongue as i feel my orgasm come crashing down on me. waves of pure pleasure crashing down. jeremiah licks up every last drop as i slowly come down from the high. i move myself down from his face and back down towards his groin. i lean down to kiss his passionately, tasting myself on his lips,

“holy shit, i can eat you out all day long.” he says to me as his hands fumble with his pants. he kicks off his pants and boxers. his erection slaps his lower abdomen and i drool at the sight of it. it’s huge, red tip begging for attention and veins pulsating on the sides of it.

i move to give him a blowjob but his grip on my waist prevents me from moving, “it’s your birthday.” jeremiah tells me, “you can give me head another time.” he winks

my hips position themselves above his thick and veiny cock and i lower myself onto it. he fills me up perfectly and we both moan loudly at the same time. every inch of him inside on me as i bottom out.

i slowly start rocking my hips against him, both of us becoming a panting mess. his hands never leave my hips, lifting me and slamming me back down onto his dick.

“you feel so good, baby” he praises, “you tight pussy feels amazing around me, fuck”

i continue riding him, my hands tangled up in his hair, pulling it which makes him moan.

“i- i think your cock was made for me.” i whisper in his ear before kissing him harshly.

he smirks, “oh yeah?”

and i nodded feverishly before he flips us around so im on my back and his on top of me, “sorry baby, i want to be in control now”

he pulls out almost entirely before slamming himself back in, the new position making him hit me even deeper than he was before. he thrusts harder and deeper, my back arches and i grab onto the sheets beside me, “fuck i’m close” i cry

“me too, hold on.” he continues fucking me, littering kissing on my face and neck. i can feel my inner muscles squeezing around him which makes jeremiah groan, “i’m fucking gonna come.”

“let it go.” he encourages me, his thumb going down to start abusing the bundle of nerves. almost immediately, i feel myself orgasm. my legs tightening around his waist and i feel him finish inside of me. he releases a series of curse words as he fucks us both through our orgasms.

a few moments after he pulls out and rolls next to me. we’re both breathing heavily, trying to catch our breaths, “holy shit” i pant out, looking over at him.

he grins, “that was amazing.”

“beyond amazing.” i repeat and he laughs,

“fuck, i should’ve asked you this before.” he says, reaching over to cup my face, “will you be my girlfriend, y/n?”

i blush, “yes, a hundred times yes!”

—

taglist! @randomaccountworld123 @bxbyyyjocelyn @20nugs @jeremiahxaesthetic

[pupyuj]

→ “long overdue.” || kim jiwon (liz) x reader.

— jiwon reunites with you, her old fling, at her brother’s bachelor party and with the sparks still in the air, you don’t waste any time to get familiar with her once more…

word count: 5.2k.

dynamic: dom!bottom!liz x sub!top!reader.

warnings: age gap (it's not much!), unnie kink, fwb to lovers, nipple play, oral fixation, cunnilingus, fingering, thigh riding, orgasm denial, edging.

a/n: FINALLY! a jiwon fic from moi 😭😭 this was supposed to be posted earlier on valentine's day but alas 💀 i really do wish i could've dropped something for feb 14th but back then i was bitter, lonely, sad, and angry so trying to write something cute and lovey-dovey was just not ideal LMAO but anyways, i hope you guys enjoy this fic 💚 only one more member and i will have officially written a fic for each of the ive unnies! WE CAN DO IT!! 😤✨ also i'm pretty sure i'm missing some warnings/tags but i'm too sleepy to remember them so...

jiwon doesn’t know why she agreed to chaperone her grown brother to his stupid bachelor party. as far as she knew, it was a boy thing. according to her brother, however, she was an exception and so, jiwon finds herself seated at the farthest corner of the bar in what might be the most expensive nightclub she has ever set foot in. she hasn’t even downed her first drink yet—she merely made a tiny tornado with the small umbrella while keeping an eye on her little brother and his ridiculous group of friends.

some of them were familiar to her, some weren’t. and some have repeatedly asked for her number in the past two and a half hours they’ve been in the place. it was after the eleventh time it happened that jiwon decided to go on her lonesome and sat on that one corner of the bar, silently waiting for the little party to end so she could get her nice, long and certainly well-deserved, sleep. jiwon really wished that she came up with some boring excuse to avoid this event. unfortunately, she couldn’t say no to her brother who was so kind to include her! 

perhaps he knew that jiwon needed to look at something that wasn’t the view from the big windows of that fancy condominium where she lives. on top of all that, jiwon has been working harder than usual. but that’s only because she quite literally has nothing else to do in her life. all of her friends were busy, she was busy, and it’s not like she can just hit up her coworkers for a quick drink after work when she barely knew them. in hindsight, jiwon sort of needed this!

jiwon raises her glass to her lips, but stops midway when something curious catches her attention. a girl, a bit younger than jiwon herself, confidently marches up towards her brother and does a very familiar handshake with him before hugging him tightly. jiwon watches as the girl and her brother chat a bit. they exchanged a few jokes here and there, the girl hands him a small bag (a gift to his soon-to-be wife, possibly), then her brother whispers in the girl’s ear as he exchanges glances with jiwon, and suddenly both of them were looking at her from across the nightclub.

jiwon nearly drops her glass when she sees the girl’s face clearly. it was you—(y/n) (l/n), her brother’s former roommate and best friend all throughout college! jiwon has met you before! back when her life was a goddamn mess and her entire family thought that you were her brother’s girlfriend. but then it turns out you were more like… his sister from a different family and so that was when you and jiwon started getting to know each other.

perhaps you got to know each other a bit too well… because jiwon remembers all those times when the two of you would hang out in her room for hours and f—

“jiwon-unnie!”

the blonde haired girl springs up from her seat and waved as you squeezed through multiple crowds of people until you got to her. wow, you were beautiful. taller, older, and obviously so much prettier than the last time jiwon saw you.

which was in between her le—

“i missed you so much!” you engulfed jiwon in a crushing bear-hug which she awkwardly returned. “oh wow, unnie, you’re gorgeous! blonde fits you so well.” you were saying as you pulled away, taking in all of jiwon’s features and even threading her soft hair from behind. jiwon got goosebumps under your touch—how the fuck was she supposed to act normal in this situation?

“i am so glad you’re here because as much as i love him, i’m not as much of a boys girl anymore.” you pulled jiwon back to her seat, taking the empty one right beside hers and immediately telling the bartender about your favorite drink. jiwon finds herself completely speechless. literally. you were vibrant, you were chatty, you were so charming—everything jiwon remembers that you were all those years ago.

“mmm. never gets old.” you said after taking the first sip of your drink. you then turned to jiwon who flinched upon making eye contact with you. “what have you been doing these days, unnie? i know you’re like, some kind of big deal at this rich-people company you work for but you know… what else?” you eyed jiwon up and down before smiling at her. not even the darkness and the nearly seizure-inducing lights of the nightclub could hide that familiar glint in your eyes, but jiwon chose to ignore them.

she couldn’t help but glance at how your skirt is hiked up after you’ve put one leg over the other though.

“um, i haven’t been doing much, really. just… work and making sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.” jiwon said, nodding her head to her brother who was pretty buzzed at this time.

you laughed, “you guys never really changed, huh? glad to see it.” you took another sip of your drink.

“only this time i’m helping him with his road to being a husband instead of a project due in thirty minutes.” jiwon shakes her head at the memory, and she likes the way it makes you smile brightly.

“right… and are you still with wonyoung-ssi?” you asked with caution. yet you stared at jiwon as you did so, making sure she sees your ulterior motive through your eyes. jiwon feels herself crumbling under the weight of your stare, as much as she tries to put up a fight of her own.

“no… no, that’s been over for a while now.” it was a good breakup. one that ended with laughter rather than tears and anger. jiwon still talks with wonyoung to this day. why, only a week ago, wonyoung had called jiwon about her brother’s wedding! she expressed her regret about not being able to attend it due to scheduling conflicts—the life of an acclaimed supermodel was busy after all!

you looked significantly happier with the news, now gulping down your drink with a smile on your face. “h-how about you? he never told me what you did after you guys graduated…” jiwon attempts to have some control of the situation—sitting up straight, staring back at you with the same intensity, and all. was she successful? no. jiwon’s blushes as you held your stare with hers, an amused smirk now on your lips before you flipped your hair over your shoulder.

shiiit, jiwon remembers how perfect your neck looks while covered with marks left by her… oh gods, what is wrong with her?!

“well, after college, i did try getting my career started… but that didn’t work out. i ended up going back to my hometown to get back in touch with my heart and all that sentimental bullshit, and it actually worked,” you giggled, your hand brushing across your hair. “i know what i want to do in my life, but for now, i’m just…” you trailed off, raising your drink as well as quirking your eyebrow. “having fun before i can’t.” now your glass is finally empty.

“that’s good. and i’m glad the two of you are still friends. i was worried you’d grow apart.” it always made jiwon smile when she came home after a rough day at her old job and seeing you and her brother in the house, chatting and fooling around as if you weren’t burdened by all your commitments and responsibilities. it had always been refreshing seeing you, and it still is.

you propped your elbow on the table and put your chin on your palm, flashing jiwon a teasing smile, “did you miss me, unnie?”

and just like that, every ounce of confidence jiwon built up evaporates into nothing. she laughs awkwardly, hiding behind her drink, “o-of course! it was weird not seeing you guys together all the time, you know!” another awkward laugh. jiwon felt ridiculous and childish.

“no, unnie,” you moved closer, putting your hand on jiwon’s arm. she turned her head to look at you again and there you were, staring at her with clouded eyes. you then leaned closer and put your other arm behind her, your lips ghosting above her ear. shitshitshit, that’s too close. “did you miss me?”

what happened moments later isn’t exactly what jiwon would say was… a mistake. hell, it was far from it.

being trapped between the door of your hotel room and yourself while getting her neck marked up and her clothes slowly stripped down is the most eventful jiwon’s night has been.

jiwon could feel her brother’s worry all the way from here… well, it’s mainly because she knew that all the buzzing that her phone was doing in her pocket was because of him mass texting her about her whereabouts. she couldn’t be bothered to text him back right now though, not when you were already trailing your hand up her thigh and sliding it underneath her skirt. this felt familiar, and it felt good. feeling you gently rub her wet cunt through her panties felt good, feeling you softly biting on her collarbone felt good, seeing those cute eyes of yours asking for permission while you tugged on her panties felt good.

how long has it been since jiwon felt this kind of rush in her life? too long, she’d say. so why not make the most out of it?

jiwon cups your cheeks and crashes her lips into yours for the first time that night. your lips tasted like blueberries (from whatever you were drinking earlier), and jiwon loved the way you kissed her rather clumsily as if you didn’t expect her to do it first. jiwon couldn’t get enough. she pushes you further inside the room, discarding you of your jacket while doing so. she sits you down on the edge of the bed before separating from your lips and suddenly walking off, leaving you confused and slightly light-headed.

turns out, jiwon only went away to turn the lampshade on, illuminating the room with a warm orange glow before going back to you. she stared you down with hooded eyes, lust replacing the kind look in her irises that you knew and loved, and then she gently grabs your jaw, tilting your head up. you squeezed your thighs together, trying to soothe that ache in your core. god, you missed her.

“make this worth it, (y/n).” jiwon says coldly. even jiwon herself was surprised at her tone, but something in her brain liked how you crumbled under her stare. compared to the timid, nervous jiwon from earlier, bossy and demanding and… kind of harsh jiwon just did something right to you.

��you’ve always been worth it.” you pulled jiwon towards you by her hips, making her sit down on your lap. you feel her brushing your hair with her fingers, allowing you to release the tension on your shoulders and just melt into her. you’ve missed her warmth, and she’s missed yours. jiwon didn’t understand why you left when you did… but that was a question you were going to answer for her later.

much, much later.

jiwon moans softly as you start kissing her neck. your hands get busy with the remaining buttons on her shirt, revealing more of her skin for you to mark up throughout the night. you’ve already left some earlier, and they were starting to show across her chest but that wasn’t enough. you slowly pull off her shirt and let it drop to the ground, then your hands travel lower on jiwon’s body, stopping at the waistband of her skirt.

you were eager to touch her—unzipping her skirt and whining to get her to stand up and let it fall at her feet before you pulled her back into you. jiwon couldn’t help but laugh while you kissed her hungrily, and then she giggled even more when you rolled around and made her lay on her back on the bed.

you pouted cutely as you observed her and her baby pink lingerie, “hmm… were you expecting to sleep with someone in that club, unnie? you looked prepared.”

jiwon thought it was the perfect time to tease such a normally confident girl like you. so she nodded with a shit-eating grin, “the lady bartender was cute actually.” she laughs when you suddenly hop off of her abdomen, choosing to sit on the side of the bed instead. you were taking off your shoes, setting them aside before starting to discard yourself of your jewelry and putting them on the bedside table. jiwon watches you intently, her desire for you only growing by the second.

“come on, get in here already.”  jiwon tugged on your sleeve, more than ready to feel your lips on her skin once again. she decided to sit up and help you with your dress though, reaching for the zipper and slowly pulling it down. she didn’t waste the opportunity to leave kisses on the back of your neck, all the way down to the middle of your back, making sure that her lipstick sticks on your skin and smiling satisfied once she sees that it did.

finally, jiwon could see all of you after all these years, and you were just as beautiful as the last time she saw you. jiwon couldn’t resist immediately grabbing your face and kissing you as you climbed into the bed—she longed to feel your skin against hers again and now that you were here, she doesn’t think she ever wants to let you go like she did back then. so, jiwon holds onto you tightly, letting you settle yourself on top of her once again while your hands impatiently explore her perfect body. your hands reach behind jiwon, unclasping her bra and throwing it aside, your hands quickly finding themselves busy fondling her soft breasts.

it was cute to see that you still adored her tits as much as you did back then. you did that thing you always did when you were intimate with jiwon, kissing all over her chest, making sure to cover every inch of skin while still massaging her tits. jiwon caresses your hair as you did your job, laughing softly in an adoring way, her smile only widening when you look up at her with your own grin.

“you’re so pretty, jiwon-unnie.” you gave the older girl one last quick kiss on the lips before leaning down and taking her nipple in your mouth. jiwon gasps at the feeling of your warm tongue slowly swirling around her nipple. it was familiar, like all of the other things you’ve done to her so far, but it also felt new at the same time. because this time, the two of you were much older, and you were doing this purely out of your true feelings for each other rather than a decision made on a whim. jiwon moans loudly when you softly and carefully bite on the hard bud, but she was quick to regain composure when she notices something quite… well, interesting.

jiwon sees how you humped the mattress slightly, trying your best to soothe that buzzing in your core on your own. jiwon decides to swiftly slide her thigh in between your legs and press it against your wet cunt, feeling all satisfied when you whine and start slowly grinding on her thigh for further stimulation. your hand that was pinching her other nipple was now gripping the sheets as you started riding jiwon’s thigh faster, whining even more as you feverishly sucked and nipped on her tit. jiwon grins, loving how she hasn’t lost her special little talent of reducing you to her obedient pet. she starts meeting your little thrusts by raising her thigh—somehow, the sight of you like this had her soaked, but you haven’t noticed at all. you were too busy trying to get yourself off!

you had to let go of jiwon’s nipple eventually, now hugging her close and whining at her chest because you were feeling so good. you’ve started shaking and your moans were shorter and higher—it only meant one thing! jiwon takes a fistful of your hair and pulls your face up to make you look at her, ignoring how you winced at the pain.

“don’t cum.” she says strictly, her grip on your hair tightening by the second the more you thrust into her thigh.

“b-but..! hnng.. i’m s-so close…! so close…” the pout, the tears, that desperate tone in your voice… jiwon almost wanted to fold, but she wasn’t in the mood for that.

“you don’t get to cum before me ever, remember? be good.”

as much as it upset you, you slowly decreased your pace until you were merely sitting on her thigh. jiwon smiles—she was happy to know that she still had some sort of hold over you. she knew she always did! why, you were always clingy towards jiwon whenever her brother invited you over, and that was even before the two of you started sleeping with each other. she always used it to her advantage, mostly in bed, of course. something else jiwon always liked: that pitiful look on your cute face when she denies you of your release. you’d always look so timid after, afraid that if you spoke incorrectly, jiwon might stop the whole thing entirely.

but jiwon was never that cruel. she’d tease you, sure, but she would always make sure to give you what you want. just as long as she gets hers first.

“look,” you watched as jiwon’s hand traveled down from her stomach to her panties. she was drenched; your fault. “do something.” she demands. shit. the dark tone in her voice and the stern look on her face was enough to get you to move lower. you pulled off jiwon’s panties, your heart beating so fast for no goddamn reason. it has been a very long time since you have seen jiwon, let alone like this. acting like this, looking at you like this. it’s got you weak.

you stared at jiwon’s pussy. soaked, tight, perfect, and most importantly, all for you.

“how cute. you’re practically drooling.” jiwon impatiently puts her hand atop your head and brings your face closer to her needy cunt. you hoisted her legs over your shoulder, then you started leaving kisses along her inner thighs—deep and sensual kisses, slow and careful right up until your lips barely ghosted above her pussy. jiwon stares at you with anticipation, you stare back at her; your eyes now dark and hungry. you keep eye contact as you licked up her cunt once, smirking while you felt jiwon’s entire body shiver at the feeling. she pushes your head a little closer, so fucking desperate that you almost wanted to be petty and tease her, but she would probably hit you for that.

and so, you give her what she wants. within seconds of your lips touching her cunt once more, you were practically making out with it. goosebumps appeared along your skin as your tongue slowly got familiar with jiwon’s taste again. it felt right, like the stars have finally realigned themselves after years of floating about the expansive universe, lost. you put your hands to use, spreading her lips apart and pleasuring her clit.

“g-good…! there… mmhn.. (y/n)-ah…!” jiwon grabs a fistful of your hair again, pushing you impossibly closer to her cunt, practically grinding it against your face. you wrap your lips around the sensitive bud, sucking softly and moaning at jiwon’s sheer taste. fuck, it was all too good. you use one hand to grip one of her thighs, sinking your nails down to her skin, and spreading it further so you could have room.

“fuck..! i want to cum, (y/n)… m-more, more..! please…” jiwon’s back arches right as you flick the sensitive bud. you slipped your tongue inside her cunt, making jiwon moan just a tad bit louder than the hotel room walls would recommend her to. the next rooms most likely heard that—good. everyone needs to know how amazing you make her feel. how you’re the only one who can make her feel this way. and everyone’s going to know it again; you used your free hand to rub jiwon’s clit since your tongue was too busy inside her.

normally, this would’ve made jiwon cum. but she was strong this time around. “fucking—god, (y/n)…! more.. more…” jiwon pleads while on the verge of tears. you free her thigh of your grip and hold her hand instead, at least it helped her ground herself at least. the more you used your tongue inside her, the more you felt her clench. her grip gets tighter, both on your hand and on your hair. you briefly glanced upwards and saw her closing her eyes shut—she was close. but you found yourself being torn between letting her reach her climax now, stall a bit longer, or… make her orgasm just a lot stronger.

you pulled out your tongue from her cunt. jiwon hisses and nearly hits you on the head for slowing down and going back to sucking on her clit as you previously did. she glared at you, but was immediately back to being at your mercy when you unexpectedly inserted two of your fingers inside her. god, she was still tight. you stared in awe as you fucked jiwon in an excrutiatingly slow pace, merely watching as her pussy clenches around your digits. you pushed further, now knuckle-deep inside jiwon. you could cum from the sensation of her spongy walls brushing against your fingertips alone but you had to keep her rule in mind.

“m-mouth… use your mouth, (y/n).. ah!” and happily you did! your mouth and fingers worked in unison on jiwon’s pussy—every time you pulled out, you’d suck and lick her clit, the routine now going back to you. you’re remembering all the things she liked done to her, even down to the tiniest details. like eye contact. your eyes fluttered open, peering at jiwon through your fringe. she was already staring at you, her face contorted to show much pleasure you were bringing to her. jiwon has never once tried to conceal her noises and she wasn’t going to ask you to slow down or anything either. you both needed this, and unfortunately for this entire damn hotel, they were going to know just how much.

jiwon loosens her grip on your head once she realizes just how tight she was holding it, now threading your hair and only gently nudging you closer whenever she thinks your mouth isn’t doing enough. you curled your fingers inside her, making her tense up once more and bring her to that familiar edge. “please, please, please…!” jiwon whispers desperately like a prayer with a single tear running down her cheek. you increased your pace and buried your face in her cunt, not caring about making a mess of your face. all you cared about was satisfying your jiwon-unnie, and that you were successful when you brought her to a mind-blanking orgasm with a single flick of your tongue.

a long moan escapes jiwon’s lips as you continue to eat her out through her climax. god, she was delectable. you were determined to not waste a single drop of her cum, lapping her up like a dog and once more relishing at the taste of her juices on your tongue. you pull out your fingers as well, making sure jiwon sees you sucking on it to show her just how much you enjoy how she tastes. jiwon was beyond flustered and she was feeling all sorts of things—overwhelmed, weak, and perhaps most importantly of all, so fucking desperate to make you feel just as good.

you don’t hear her at first. jiwon was speaking in a small voice since she was still weak from everything you did, but you do hear her later on. “come here, baby,” the nickname practically sends you scurrying over on top of her again. jiwon wipes your chin clean with her hand, smiling brightly at you as she pulls you in for a sweet kiss. she can taste herself on your lips and your tongue, and a part of her understands why you’re so addicted. “unnie’s turn, hm?” she whispers against your lips… but her kisses have sent your brain elsewhere, hence your surprised gasp when you felt her gently rub your clit through your panties.

“hah… you’re still super sensitive here?” jiwon asked.

“t-that’s my clit, unnie.. of course, i’m—ahh—sensitive there…” cheeky. even when you’re the one at her mercy now. you pulled your panties off, throwing over to the pile of clothes on the carpeted floor. jiwon was teasing you: tracing your lips with her fingers, barely letting her fingertips touch your entrance, and not even giving your clit the attention it needs now. you whine as you grind down on jiwon’s hand, desperate for more contact but she refuses to touch you.

“aww, what’s with that face?” jiwon coos, laughing slightly. you had a mix of desperation and irritation on your face. it was annoying how she was being annoying, especially at such a crucial time but you knew the exact thing you had to do to get her going.

“unnie. please. i need you…” you pleaded. jiwon leans back on the pillow behind her, finding it so amusing to watch you slowly lose every ounce of self-respect just so you can cum. fuck, if jiwon wanted to be cruel, she could! she could make you beg all night, see those pretty eyes of yours shine with tears as you cry… the sick part of jiwon really wanted it all to come true, but she’s missed you too much to prolong this any further. and so, she pushes your face closer to her by the back of your neck, kissing you passionately just to get you to calm down.

one word jiwon would use to describe how she felt for the events that followed? relieving.

it was relieving to feel your warmth around the three fingers she inserted in your pussy at once, to feel your tongue inside her mouth, to bleed slightly from the way you held onto her arms so tightly, and it was most relieving to hear you say her name so sweetly. you can have such a dirty mouth with so many vulgar words to say, especially from years before when you were younger, but whenever you were with jiwon, you were a different person. jiwon was one of the only people who you allowed to see you like this: soft, weak, and so endearing. it seems like you haven’t changed that aspect about you, and that fact within itself was relieving to jiwon.

“unnie…!” you buried your head on the crook of jiwon’s neck as you felt every inch of her fingers brush against all of your sweet spots. as expected, things were always different when it came to jiwon. being so vulnerable to other people terrified you to the point where it was almost impossible to let your heart open to them, but jiwon made it so simple. but now that you were right here, looking at jiwon and feeling her everywhere, maybe it wasn’t just simply her that made it possible for you to let yourself fall.

wait… fall?

yes. fall. all this time—you’ve fallen for jiwon but too many things made it complicated for you to fully embrace it. but now you are ready.

“i’m so happy, (y/n),” jiwon’s voice felt like a dream. you almost couldn’t hear her properly due to how much her fingers overwhelmed you. the older girl used her free hand to lift your chin, making you look at her, before kissing your lips—it has always been her favorite thing to do. “i’m so happy you came back to me. i don’t know how to express how much i missed you… surely not with words, not even with this…” jiwon plunges her fingers deep, shushing you while you moan loudly. god, she knew you too well. knew which spot to hit to get you to lose your mind, knew the exact words to whisper in your ear when she notices you were slipping away from reality, and knew exactly how to make your heart beat like it never has before.

jiwon pulls her index finger out, now fucking you faster than she ever has with the only fingers she has inside you. “good girl. god, baby… you’re getting me wet again.” jiwon locks one of her legs around yours, keeping you in place. her palm slams against your sensitive clit, bringing tears to your eyes even though you grinded on her hand desperately to feel it over and over again. part of the reason why jiwon always needed to be the one to be fucked first is because you get so tired after your turn that you just pass out, and you never got out of that habit it seems. jiwon sees how the light was escaping your eyes, it was only a matter of time before you were too exhausted to keep yourself awake.

“hm, we have to be careful, huh? can you handle it, love?”

you nodded frantically, afraid that she’d slow down had you answered otherwise, “y-yes..! ahh, yes, i can. i can, unnie.. i can—mmhn..! i can take it…” you started moving your hips, riding jiwon’s fingers just to get closer and closer for that climax you’ve been chasing after the entire night. jiwon was thoroughly amused at how determined you were. normally, you’d give up or tap out if you found it all too much, but jiwon knows you want to be good for her. especially after all this time.

“you’re so cute… but don’t worry, baby,” jiwon places a sweet, deep kiss on your damp forehead. “we have all the time in the world now.”

a curl of her fingers later and you were cumming on jiwon’s hand. the older girl stopped her movements, afraid of overstimulating you. she whispers sweet words into your ears as you let yourself go, at least that's what you think she’s doing. you could barely keep your eyes open, let alone hear. but despite your consciousness slowly slipping away from you, you still felt jiwon gently lay you down on the spot next to her. she holds you close enough that she is within kissing distance.

she was so perfect—how could you have left her?

“unnie…” you tucked a piece of her behind her ear. her laugh makes your ears tingle. you faintly hear her ask if you’re feeling okay, to which you nodded weakly at. you can see her lips move, she was saying a few things, but you can’t hear her over the sound of your heartbeat. you cup her cheek, lean close, and kiss her. maybe it was your favorite thing to do, just like her. and then, words that have always been expected to be unsaid leave your lips. some feelings that have been kept hidden, secrets that you were afraid of letting slip.

“i love you, jiwon-unnie.”

long overdue, sure. even jiwon felt it before you ever said it to her. but she thinks that your bashful smile, the way you shyly looked away from her, and your precious reaction to her saying it back made it all worth the wait.

[yunhoszn]

motive

PAIRING choi san x f!reader

WORD COUNT 3.37k

GENRES kinda fluff ig﹒smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, friends to lovers, reader is lowkey down horrendous, but san is too i guess, um tbh this is just porn with minimal plot… 😭, reader gets jealous, Tension, i can’t think of anything else for the tame aspect so, making out, exhibitionism, soft dom!san, marking-ish, scratching, vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, they’re like kinda clumsy in the way that everything is a fucking joke to them, actually a lot of kissing, san’s a sweet talker, public sex, shower sex, unprotected sex (pls be safe), creampie, cutesy ending

SUMMARY it’s annoying that your gym partner constantly gets flirted with right in front of you, especially when you have a crush on said gym partner. good thing your gym partner has a crush on you, too.

MORE HELLO oh my god okay, this is my first written fic on this blog and im actually so nervous posting it… but fuck it! we ball! this wasn’t originally the first fic i was gonna post but,,, the other one is still marinating in the drafts so you get mr. choi san instead <3 ALSO THANK U SM FOR 100 FOLLOWERS HELLO. my blog is 2 weeks old that’s insanity 🤕 big thank u to the loml @kimsohn for betaing for me ilysm maya <<3 pls reblog if u enjoyed and pls moot me :( i need more atiny friends 💔

“Wow, San, you’re so strong,”

You scoff to yourself as you watch the trio of girls surround him, dainty fingers touching anywhere they can. He laughs sheepishly, shifting his seat on the weight bench. You think it’s funny, really, the fact that he was eating up their attention and acting like he was so shy about it. He was supposed to be your gym partner. 

With a small grunt, you take the dumbbells in front of you and focus on your form in the mirror. You make attempt after attempt to ignore the commotion behind you, but ultimately fail. How could you not stare with all the obnoxious giggling? Even as you lunge, eyes zeroed in on the perfect 90° angle your legs make, you can still make out the group’s reflection in the mirror. 

Every drag of a manicured nail along his bicep, each twirl of hair, it was pissing you off. You had no real right to be mad, though. It’s not like San was your boyfriend or anything. You were just friends, and he’d volunteered to help you out when you mentioned struggling at the gym. What started as him spotting you when needed and giving tips to help improve your workouts, turned into waiting around for him to stop flirting with the girls who flocked over to him. 

Maybe you were being a bit dramatic. It’s not like this happened every time you came to the gym, but it was enough to be irritating. There was also a very high probability that it ticked you off so much because you had a crush on San yourself. Your infatuation was less superficial, however. Yes, he was an attractive man, that was one fact that couldn’t be refuted, but there was more to him than his big muscles and handsome face.

You’d known San since you met in your first year Anthropology course. This was way before he started hitting the gym and building his physique. He used to be this thin, pretty boy. Girls thought he was cute, but that was about it. No one was jumping at the chance to ask him out, or giggling at his every word. No one except for you.

He was not only cute, but he was sweet and funny and just about every good quality you could think of. You didn’t want to be one of those people who thought you were special because you knew him before his insane bodily transformation, though in a way you were. San was your good friend above anything else, and you had a fear instilled in you that that’s all he would ever be. The idea made your stomach churn.

”Do you think you could bench me?”

A sigh pushes past your lips when you see one of the girls get a little closer to him. You’re over working out at this point, ready to just call it a day and go home. What were you doing here if your partner was going to ignore you the entire time? You set the dumbbells back on their respective rack, grabbing your phone and water bottle while simultaneously turning up the volume on your headphones to drown out everything around you. 

You don’t bother telling San that you’re leaving, making your way into the changing rooms to grab the rest of your things from your locker. The frown etched onto your face as you do so serves as a reminder that he would never see you in that way. Perhaps you were perpetually stuck as the girl space friend. With a giant emphasis on the space. 

There’s a gentle grasp around your wrist, making you jump in surprise. You turn around with wide eyes, pushing your headphones off your ears. San stares back at you with an unreadable expression, lips slightly pursed.

”God, San, you almost gave me a heart attack,” you hold a hand to your chest, heaving up and down a little.

”I tried calling your name, but you didn’t hear me,” he shrugs, releasing your arm and shoving his hands into the pockets of his athletic shorts. “Why didn’t you tell me you were ready to leave?”

”You looked busy.” Really, you wanted to hide the jealousy and bitterness from your tone, but ultimately failed, even throwing in an unintentional scrunch of your nose. It feels like your heart dropped to your stomach, resembling a prey caught by its predator when you realize the connotation behind your words.

San smiles at you, a smug grin that’s so out of character for him, you’re a little nervous now. He takes a step forward and you back up until you reach the lockers, one of his hands coming up to rest on the surface near your head. A small chuckle breaches the sound barrier, his eyes drinking in your figure like he might never get the opportunity to do it again. “Y/N… are you jealous?”

Instinctively, you shake your head. What he doesn’t know can’t kill him. But then he’s raising an eyebrow in question and you feel like a puppy with its tail between its legs. You blink up at him, nails digging into your palms to keep your composure. “Should I be?”

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, that same cocky smirk on his features. He knows what he’s doing, you think to yourself. He has you cornered and he’s using it to his advantage. The hand that isn’t holding his weight comes up to your face, fingers gliding along your jaw with a feather light touch. “No, I don’t think so. The only girl who’s attention I really care about is right where I want her.”

Your breathing stutters, halting in your throat and momentarily winding you. Choi San might very well be the death of you. Especially with that darkened look in his eyes, the chocolate brown color now resembling the night sky. His thumb swipes across your lower lip, letting it resume its original place. “What do— what do you mean by that?”

He was giving you a bone, a hint that he could potentially feel the same as you, but you wanted to hear him say it. You wanted the words to leave his mouth and verbally confirm that for you. Want wasn’t even good enough. You needed it. 

“There’s no way you don’t know,” San says, voice hushed. “No way that you don’t know how badly I’ve wanted you since first year.”

Something similar to a choked groan departs from you, your pulse racing in your ears, thumping beneath your chest. You’re too stunned to move, frozen in your spot in case this is all some fucked up dream. It doesn’t even occur to you that someone could walk in, doesn’t even cross your mind that you’re in too public of a setting for this conversation or where it could go. 

“I don’t— I didn’t…” Your eyes attempt to stay on his, but keep flickering down to his mouth. 

“It was so hard for me to play nice guy for so long,” he whispers, a pout adorning his expression. “And today? I couldn’t even stare at you shamelessly because of those damn girls. It’s so fucking annoying when they bother me while I’m trying to flirt with you. But since I’m Nice Guy San, I can’t be rude.”

“You flirt with me?” You snort, your shell shock wearing off and a goofy smile worming its way onto your face. He laughs along with you, tilting away to hide the warmth blooming on his cheeks. The tension is still present, but it’s a lot more bearable.

”I guess I’m not very good at it if you couldn’t even tell,” he glances down at his feet, the confident San from before long gone and now replaced by a bashful version. “Am I going crazy, or is this gonna go somewhere? I don’t want to misread anything and ruin what we already have. The ball is entirely in your court.”

It’s your turn to be shy, shrinking in on yourself slightly. Acknowledging that you had feelings for San was a separate can of worms. There was a big difference between him confessing to you and vice versa. You know if given the stage, you’d just start blabbering on and on about how you feel for him, and that would just be embarrassing for both of you. So instead you say, “Can I show you?”

When he nods, your fingers raise to his jaw, cupping it gently as you lean up. Your lips brush his softly, barely grazing them. His eyes flutter shut, a shiver running down his spine simply from your kiss. A pleasant buzz courses through your veins from your lips to the tips of your fingers. You’ve wanted this forever, you don’t think you could ever go back.

You pull back and San fists the fabric of your t-shirt on your waist, eyes still closed as he chases your mouth. “Fuck, Y/N, can I kiss you again?”

“Please,” you whine, enveloping your lips with his as soon as you get the green light. This time is desperate, noses bumping each other. You’re going lightheaded and dizzy, already intoxicated by him. Your back presses into the lockers behind you, arching into his chest for more. 

He deepens the kiss and it’s almost too much. You’re overwhelmed by the emotions taking control of you, not at all prepared for what would come with actually being with San. It had always been a distant fantasy, something that felt so completely out of reach that you didn’t dare let yourself indulge in the notion for too long. The way his lips lock with yours, fluidly and synchronously like missing pieces of a puzzle, you think you can die happily. 

“As hot as it would be to fuck you right here, I’d rather not get kicked out of this gym,” he chuckles breathlessly. “And since we’re both sweaty from working out, I think we could use a shower. Don’t you?”

You leave a kiss on the corner of his mouth, nodding frantically at his suggestion. Though you imagined your first time with San being in a bed, slow and sensual, you’d be so stupid to complain about this. Fucking in one of the gym showers, where anyone could hear you? Go big or go home. 

He scopes the area to ensure the coast is clear before hauling you into one of the stalls, dragging the curtain shut. You kiss roughly between removing articles of clothing, San turning on the water while his lips make quick work of your neck. Goosebumps form on your skin when the cool water hits it, your fingers combing through his wet hair as he sucks harsh marks into your collarbone and sternum. 

“You’re so gorgeous, babe,” he mutters into your skin, nipping lightly at the tops of your tits. One of his hands travels south, sliding through your folds with ease. He rubs tight circles into your clit, prodding at your entrance with his ring finger. “I need you to cum for me once before I fuck you for real, okay?”

“Mhm,” you moan quietly, hiking one of your legs around his waist. His finger pushes inside you to the knuckle and then curls. Your eyes all but roll to the back of your head, back arching off of the tiled wall. “Feels so good, San…”

“Yeah?” He smiles against your skin, trailing pecks up your neck and along your jawline. You whimper in his ear, cunt sucking in his finger greedily. He adds a second, the middle one, and applies pressure to your clit with the heel of his palm. The sight of you falling apart by his hand alone is sending blood rushing to his brain. 

Your body feels hot to the touch, risking a downwards glance at where his fingers disappear into your pussy. It forces another whine out of you, your head tossing back. You tug at the strands of hair that stick to the nape of his neck, steeling yourself the only way you can in this position. San just seemed to know you, to know exactly what you needed without you having to tell him. Either he was really good at guessing, or everything he did seemed to be perfect, because you’ve never climbed to the summit this quickly before. 

There’s a knot in the pit of your stomach that weaves itself tighter and tighter with each curl of his digits and each swirl of his thumb on your clit. You think you could cry from how attentive he was, from how determined he was to provide you pleasure. Your cunt contracts around his fingers, and he can sense the precipice of your orgasm, speeding up his pace. 

You squirm around in his hold, allowing him to spread apart your thighs so he can brush the pads of the digits buried inside of you up against that spongy sweet spot. You’re trembling now, nearing the edge of that familiar cliff. “San, baby, I’m— god— I’m so close,”

“Let go for me, my love.” He coos into the corner of your mouth, hushing your moans. He doesn’t slow his assault, inching you further and further towards your release like it was his own personal mission. That knot in your belly begins to unravel until it slips through your grasp completely, your orgasm rocking into you like a tidal wave. 

San aids you as you ride out your high, already spent before he’s even gotten the chance to be inside of you. He kisses you tenderly, pulling out his fingers with caution since you were still so sensitive. Your nails claw down his front, scratching his abdomen with a purpose. He shudders beneath you, lips curling up into another soft smile. 

“What?” You ask with a giggle, mirroring his expression when he wipes water from your face. 

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, grin unwavering. “You just look really pretty like this.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to get into my pants, Choi San.” You tease, yanking him down for a saccharine kiss. He reciprocates without hesitation, drawing his palm on your thigh so he can wrap it around his waist again. 

“Me? Never…” He laughs along your mouth. “Is it working, though?”

You roll your eyes playfully, reconnecting your lips. “Are you gonna fuck me for real now?”

“What kinda question is that?” He glides the tip of his cock between your folds, shutting you up instantaneously. He’s heavy where he sits, slipping the shaft through your lower lips. “I’m gonna fuck you so good, you forget where you are, baby.”

Before you can even let out another sound of appreciation, he’s stretching you out, cock thrusting up into your pussy without warning. You jump up a bit to hook your other leg around his hips so he’s supporting your whole weight. The new angle makes it easier for him to delve deeper in your cunt, his dick accessing places you’d never knew existed. 

After he’s sure you’ve adjusted to his length, he starts to move, pistoning in and out of you much more forcefully than he did with his fingers. Your lips part for a voluminous moan, but then you hear a group of loud girls entering the shower area and San slaps a hand over your mouth. He makes no effort to stop, fucking into you without a single care for the people on the other side of the shower curtain. 

“Did any of you see where San went? He disappeared so fast.” 

You recognize the voice as belonging to one of the girls who was openly flirting with San while you were working out. Not even needing to see her, you can picture the exaggerated pout on her face based on her tone alone. 

“He probably followed after that stupid bitch he’s always with.”

Your half lidded eyes meet San’s but he still pays no mind to them, digging his nails into your plush thighs. He pulls all the way out, just to slam his cock all the way back in. His pace leisures, but his power doesn’t, abusing your cunt with every snap of his hips. 

“I think I’m gonna ask him out next time I see him. I have to stake my claim before someone else does.”

He holds back a laugh, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You drown out their conversation after that, too focused on the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls so deliciously to even worry about those idiot girls. Little did they know he was closer than they thought…

Thankfully, they leave not much longer after that, and he uncovers your mouth. You gasp for air, panting feverishly when he picks up his speed again. Your bottom lip quivers with a whine, too fucked out to conjugate words that make sense. 

“You’re taking me so well, baby. Taking me like a fucking princess,” San praises. He groans, water droplets slipping along the valleys of his sculpted chest and abdomen. It drips with every roll of his hips and every thrust of his cock into your pussy. This was what he had been building up to, what he’d been dreaming of for years. “Who’s fucking you like this?”

“Mmm,” you moan, supping him in deeper, further, as cavernous as humanly possible. “You, San— fuck— y-you are.”

You arch your back, sneaking a hand in the middle of the two of you and pressing the pads of your fingers harshly on your clit when you do so. San holds you closer to him so your pelvic bones nearly clash each time he punches into you. The change in depth that he fucks you has your cunt squelching, any semblance of coherent thought escaping you. 

Your vision goes blank, stars decorating the backs of your eyelids as your second orgasm blindsides you. Not a sound leaves you after it knocks into you, cumming with so much force you think you might pass out in San’s arms. When you’ve finished, you let out a guttural groan, walls fluttering around his cock. 

“Gonna cum— shit— where do—“ you interrupt him with a whimper. 

“Cum inside of me,” your begging tone has him spilling into you practically on command. He fills you up perfectly, a moan from deep within him reaching your ears. You both stay like that for a moment, skin sticking to the other’s due to the thin sheen of sweat coupled with the steam of the shower coating your bodies. 

You can feel the rise and fall of his chest when he breathes, one of your hands coming up to caress his back gently. He pulls out with a wince, palms resting on either side of you as he recuperates. He breathes through his nostrils, forehead glued to your shoulder. His hands rub up and down your sides soothingly. 

“It’s safe to assume you’re gonna turn that girl down when she asks you out, right?” You ask suddenly, attempting to diffuse whatever’s in the air between you now. San laughs into your shoulder. 

“Y/N, I’m turning down any girl who asks me out from now on,” he stands upright, biting his lip before kissing you gently. “I don’t think my girlfriend would appreciate that very much.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Girlfriend?”

“Am I being too overzealous?” His nose scrunches up. 

“You’re being the right amount of zealous, I think,” you brush away a strand of wet hair that falls into his eyes. “But I think your ‘girlfriend’ would like it if you actually asked her to be your girlfriend.”

Choi San is the prettiest man you’ve ever set your sights on, but somehow, he looks even prettier smiling down at you after having sex with you in a gym shower. It’s a feat that should be considered illegal, and you should receive restitution for the distress it’s caused on your heart. 

“Will you be my girlfriend, Y/N?”

And well, maybe you’d deal with that later. It was kind of difficult to ignore that sparkle in his eyes, especially when it was directed at you. You nod without a second thought. 

“I would love nothing more.”

© yunhoszn. do not steal, claim, or repost. 

[foone]

whats your favourite narnia book if you have one

Since I grew up as an autistic christian, I have many Narnia Opinions!

So, my favorite book for it's own reasons is probably The Magician's Nephew. I'm always a slut for worldbuilding and backstory and that novel is basically just only that. Some guy we know from another book goes on an adventure and in the process gets to be involved with the creation of one world and the destruction of another? kick-ass.

Best book to adapt? The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe. 1988 BBC version, 1979 Cartoon version, 2005 theatrical? All good, in their own ways. The BBC version is just perfectly 80s and the costumes are amazing (because they are costumes! they did all the monsters by sticking a guy in a big costume and I love it), the cartoon version captures the fucking whimsy of a story where SANTA SHOWS UP AND GIVES EVERYONE PRESENTS and the first person to offer any serious lore about the situation is named MR BEAVER. And the 2005 film has the big battles and CGI and Tilda Swinton as the White Witch which is... so much. I love them all.

But the best book adaptation is the 1990 BBC The Silver Chair. Hands down. It's got Tom Baker's Puddleglum, Warwick Davis playing an owl, 0£ BBC budget greenscreened giants (MULTIPLE TIMES), a group of people discovering IT'S A COOKBOOK and one of them being offended by the cookbook saying they don't taste very good, the bad guy turning into a giant rubber snake. a witch trying to gaslight some humans into believing the sun is a myth, and the ultimate salvation of Eustace Scrubb: a boy who almost deserved being named that.

And since I can't not list basically everything Narnia ever made, BBC's 1989 Prince Caspian and The Voyage of the Dawn Treader is pretty good too. It's a fun "road movie", in that it's an odyssey into a fictional Mysterious Ocean of Here There Be Dragons.

Lotta hits in that one. It's also got a "collect the macguffins!" plot where they're trying to collect the Seven Lost Lords.

But yeah, it's like... the first Island gets them a lord and they get to end slavery. Next up, Dragon TF island (The dragon is Greed... but it's also just a literal fucking dragon). Next, Gold TF island. Gold, it turns out, makes you go insane in your lust for wealth, even if you're already a Prince of a whole country. The gold is Greed, but it will also just fucking kill you because you'll be turned into gold.

Then it's the island of the ugly invisible one-foot guys and it turns out they cast a spell to turn invisible so no one could see how they're ugly but they're not ugly, they just think they are? and then it goes "HEY LUCY COMPARE YOURSELF TO YOUR OLDER SISTER" and she's like "I'm ugly.... unlike her. Maybe I should use magic to STEAL HER BEAUTY?!" and it's like, wow. Is there maybe a theme here about self-esteem in your appearance? and Clive Officemax Lewis is over there going I'LL NEVER TELL.

Anyway it's got the good line about how the Wizard in charge of the ugly invisible one-footed pogo-idiots is that how he eagerly awaits the day that they can be ruled by wisdom, instead of magic. It's a fun approach to magic: it's something that is a shortcut, a crutch, and it's a poor replacement for Wisdom, even when used by "the good guys". Tell me, Mr. FedexKinkos-Lewis, do you have any opinions on the complicated relationship between Christianity and magic? oh, you do? I never would have guessed!

They also find The Island Where Dreams Come True. They don't land there, they just fish a screaming man out of the ocean who is trying to escape it. The sailors hear it's The Island Where Dreams Come True and are like "wow, I could have my own ship!" and he yells no, you fools, not dreams like your wishes and imaginations, your actual dreams come true on this island.

and everyone agrees: Get us the fuck away from this island and lets never return.

Anyway I'm not gonna talk about THE ENTIRE MOVIE/BOOK but it's got a great weirdness at the end where they reach the end of the world (which is flat. It's okay, this is Narnia, a completely different world with different physical rules than Earth), and it's a waterfall, but a waterfall going up?

It turns out Heaven is on the other side of it. They turn around, but the anthropomorphic mouse is like "ehh, I'll take that journey" and becomes the Elijah of Aslan's Country, their equivalent of heaven.

Narnia, won't you?

[shibaraki]

THE VANISHING MOON ┊ TSUKISHIMA KEI

tags: GN reader, post timeskip, exes to lovers, fluff, emotional hurt + comfort, reader is a writer, alcohol consumption, mutual pining, getting back together, kisses, weddings, previous ‘mutual’ breakup, happy ending

wc: 4.2K

For as long as you can remember, you’ve loved love stories.

The first time you picked up a pen with the intention to write you’d been looking for a specific someone. To pour love into and be loved by. Conjured from the recesses of your mind, a soft smile from the boy you liked, one prepared to whisk you away from the converging angst that came with your adolescence.

In later years you looked inward, searching for yourself. To satiate your loneliness through self introspection. Ink blotted fingers working arduously at the knots that make up the soul. Knots that were once straight rope, simple and without weak points. And when you failed to love yourself you turned outward, exploring the web that made up the world.

You saw that other people loved stories, too. That there would always be at least one which speaks to them in some way and stays with them. You coveted that reality; to be something another person could love, and look back on with fondness. For your words to strike such a chord that they’d become part of another’s tapestry. To live on. Never again be forgotten, even if it means being an echo of something.

That yearning accompanies you up the cobbled footpath. The crisp air pinching the tips of your ears. Soft, muted chirps rippled throughout the treeline. “Wow,” you murmur, breathless. Arms sticky with perspiration, leg muscles tingling in exertion after walking the steep hill.

The reception venue sits on the end of a private road, concealed by threadbare canopy. Under an open sky there lay every shade and stroke of colour. Dappled sunlight casts shadows across the grass and your eyes are drawn to them.

“Wow is right. They’ve done an incredible job,” Sugawara airs his appreciation as he walks at your side. His voice is awed, and his cheeks are red. “I can’t believe they managed it. Karumai Gardens are notoriously stingy for booking events”.

The wedding invitation shouldn’t have come as a surprise. Remaining some of your closest friends, Kiyoko and Tanaka had already confirmed your attendance long before the formal invites were sent out. You even found yourself on the end of multiple phone calls over the months assisting a panicked Tanaka with writing and rewriting his vows.

Despite that, your stomach roiled at the invitation on your kitchen counter, and your heart crawled up into your throat. Because suddenly it was too real.

Everybody would be there.

Tsukishima would be there.

You’ve been a high strung for most of the day, hyper vigilant to the point of fraying. The ceremony was beautiful. Kiyoko looked ethereal draped in her white lace gown, a delicate veil cascading down her back and rippling down the aisle as she walked. Tanaka was striking in his dark blue suit and embroidered waistcoat. Sitting at the forefront, you remained steadfast in your ignorance of Tsukishima’s scrunity and dabbed at your face as you cried.

You missed having his attention. Missed the subtle stroke of his sharp gold eyes across every part of you as though it were Tsukishima’s hands themselves. A scant, cowardly part of you considered not attending the reception, grateful that he hadn’t approached you yet. If he would at all. Kei could be unbearably prideful about these things. But what do you know?

Nothing. After all this time you probably know nothing at all.

“I think he wants to talk to you,” Sugawara says, drawing your focus to the present. “It’s obvious he’s missed you”.

You edge past the increasingly dense foliage with intent, your fingertips outstretched to brush the near-blooming plants. “Who?” you ask. Sugawara’s grin turns wry and he threads his arm through yours.

“So petty,” he murmurs, patting your bicep. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. But he’s single, and has been staring at you all day. I thought I should mention it”.

“Well you’ve mentioned it,” you return without true malice, squeezing him back. Sugawara’s lips parted in a sigh, and for a brief second, you saw a wistful expression beneath the lighthearted veneer. It stirs unease in your chest and you add, “I just don’t want to make a scene”.

“You really think that’s what it’ll come to?”

Memories unearthed from the deep recesses of your mind. Packed away into tight spaces and left to collect dust where they can’t hurt you. They awaken easily, triggered by a simple question, and with such clarity that you wonder if you ever forgot them at all.

Soft, deliberate touches. Long, warm embraces, swallowed up by his large frame. Graceless laughter—the ugly kind that makes your stomach hurt. Languorous kisses, biting kisses, chaste kisses, clumsy kisses. Good morning and good night kisses. Bickering over breakfast. Bickering over dinner. Wandering, calloused hands. Pressure behind two fingers, splitting you like soft fruit. A sharp tongue and sharper words. Holding hands in bed, anchoring yourself to him like you were afraid he might float away in the night.

Life became busier than either of you expected. Kei landed an opportunity to play for a division two team in the V league alongside his work at the Sendai city museum. Your publisher's demands increased. Kei’s priorities shifted. Resentment crept in. He started to forget things. Small promises and favours, like getting the grocery’s or making it home for date night. They felt so significant at the time—things you deemed indicative of his commitment to you, without communicating as such.

Fractures formed in your relationship. You ignored them in favour of keeping the peace, hoping to address them when the timing was better. Only with hindsight can you say that was the wrong choice. The fractures contracted, expanded until it grew into a yawning cavity with one of you standing either side of it. A slow decay.

“No. No, it wouldn’t,” you tell Sugawara. Tsukishima has never been a shining paragon of virtue but he wouldn't do anything to disrupt Tanaka’s wedding. “I’m just nervous. I haven’t seen him since…”

Sugawara hums his acknowledgment. You’re adrift as he guides you into the venue holding the wedding reception, welcomed into a kaleidoscope of colour. Carefully crafted floral arrangements line the hall. Half of the building is a greenhouse conversion, and natural light filters in through the high, arching ceilings, illuminating the dance floor. You take in the surroundings as your senses are enveloped by the pleasant din.

“Look, there’s Yachi and Nishinoya,” Sugawara tugs on your arm and calls out, “Yachi! Noya!”

Nishinoya crowed, leaping forward to gather you and Sugawara into a blistering hug. Barely two extra inches on him yet larger than you remember, skin kissed by the sun and his hair handsomely coiffed. His waistcoat creases awkwardly with the stretch of his body while you sink into his warmth and feel your cheeks ache.

“Man, I feel like I could scale a mountain! It’s so good to see you guys again,” Nishinoya reclines to get a look at you both and firmly takes you by the shoulders. “You have a lot to answer for,” he says with mock seriousness.

“I do?” you laugh, skull knocking side to side as he shakes you.

“I read your book on the plane”.

Your laughter putters out. You grimace and clear your throat, “Oh—really?”

“Most of us have. We wanted to support you properly,” Yachi admits as she steps forward to hug you. She’s smiling when she pulls away, faint laughter lines deepening.

Sugawara nods and pokes at your waist, “Don’t look so embarrassed. It was amazing”.

“It made me cry!” Nishinoya effuses. He sniffs, and to your mortification he looks like he might burst into tears again. “There was this one line—gah, no! I can’t talk about it. Get over here, I need to hug you again”.

“Thank you, Noya-san,” you wheeze at the arms constricting around your midsection, eyes clenched shut to repress the impending sting. You turn your head, nose knocking against his temple as you peer at the others. “Thank you all. I mean it”.

Yachi squirms, her smile quivering. “I’m really happy you made it today,” she says once you’ve been released. The unyielding pressure of Nishinoya’s embrace lingers like two phantom limbs. “You too, Nishinoya-san”.

“It’s amazing you’re upright. I thought for sure the jet lag would get to you,” Sugawara laughs. He utters a quick apology to the server passing with a tray of drinks. “Didn’t you fly in from Barcelona?”

“Yeah. Should’a been heading to Andorra but I wouldn’t miss my bro’s wedding for the world,” Nishinoya’s voice drifts as his eyes follow the alcohol. He plucks a glass in one swift motion and holds it high, “Salut I força al canut!”

Yachi watches him throw back the drink with poorly veiled anxiety. “Ah, speaking of, we should find our seats. It looks like the cake cutting is starting soon”.

“Good call. We’re getting in the way of the preparations. And I think you’ve left Asahi alone for too long,” Sugawara claps Nishinoya on the shoulder. “Looks like he’s been accosted by Saeko-san”.

Nishinoya pivots on his heel, whip-like and buzzing. You’re not sure which name he reacted to more. Asahi or Saeko. “Where?” his gaze locks in on the pair across the room. “I’ll talk to you guys in a bit!”

Gone in a blink. “He never slows down,” Sugawara sighs, shaking his head fondly. “Guess that’s my cue,” he says before parting ways. Yachi waves after them.

An idea strikes you then. “Say, Yacchan. You’re next to me, right?” you glance toward the long tables set up around the dance floor and meet her gaze with a suggestive smile. “Would you want to sit next to Yamaguchi instead? I don’t mind swapping”.

Their relationship had blossomed over the past few months. A long, slow burn finally come to fruition, new enough that mention of it usually makes her turn pink. But the light in her eyes dims at your suggestion, and rather than flustered, Yachi looks uncertain.

Her fingers form a loose clasp around your forearm. “Tadashi is seated next to Tsukishima,” she explains gingerly. You feel yourself freeze and the kind motion of her thumb strokes circles along the inside of your wrist.

You let out a shaky exhale. “That’s okay. I don’t mind,” you tell her before the consequences of what you’re offering can really be cemented. Yachi’s eyes widen, her grip tighter on your hand as you squeeze back in an attempt at reassurance, knowing your smile looks brittle. “It’s probably for the best. We haven’t… talked yet”.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure”.

“Are you sure you’re sure?”

“Hitoka,” you laugh, bumping your shoulders together. “I promise I’ll survive”.

You regret it not two minutes later.

Anticipation fizzes under your skin as you spot him. On approach you give him a cursory look over, the harsh beat of your heart ricocheting in your chest. Tsukishima looks good—he always does, but today, dressed in his dark, double breasted suit, with the golden hour light carding fingers through his neatly styled hair, you think he’s never looked better.

It is disconcerting to see him again and realise that your feelings haven’t changed much in the slightest.

You sit in the chair beside him. You see his spine draw taut in the corner of your eye and feel an oscillating loneliness; so alike those final few weeks together that cold dread seeps between the spaces in your ribs and steals your breath.

“Tsukishima,” you incline your head, impersonal and cautious, hating how foreign his surname is on your tongue.

A beat passes before he repeats your name in greeting, soft as a psalm despite the dour expression on his face. You’re overcome with the urge to poke the uncomfortable crease in his brow. To smooth it out and kiss the skin there, the way you used to do.

You shift in your seat. The arms curve around your midsection and knock against your elbows as you fiddle with the table cloth, “I told Yacchan that Yamaguchi could have my seat so they can sit together. I hope that’s alright”.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” and you know the clipped answer is reflexive by the way his jaw locks in frustration at himself. Bracing for what you’ll say next.

Only, your mouth curls up a little, and you exhale a short laugh through your nose. You haven’t seen him this skittish since your first year of highschool. You consider that maybe you aren’t the only one who’s scared. That things are the same and they are not the same. The thought is bittersweet, but it’s nice, the way his trepidation gives way to muted awe, how he sends you sidelong glances when he thinks you’re not looking.

The music picks up in a grand crescendo as the newlyweds enter the hall and the reception begins with a raucous applause. A rich aroma unfurls as the food is served, the depth of the flavour layering over the already present notes of wildflower and honey. Drinks are handed to the guests. Generously. You swirl the liquid gold around the rim of your glass, luxuriating in the syrupy inebriation of a gently oaked chardonnay.

“So, uh. How’ve you been?”

Tsukishima, to his credit, does not startle at the question. “Fine,” he says, and you think he might leave it at that when he adds, “The museum received another new Crinoid collection last month, so I’ve been preoccupied”.

You grasp at the conversational thread, not wanting him to stop, “Crinoids?”

“Marine animals. They still exist today, though not as common. You might’ve heard of sea lilies and feather stars,” he shrugs halfheartedly, not daring to look away from his deep fried tofu, though it’s clear he can’t help talking about his work with pride. “Ours are from the Triassic period”.

“Just like the, uh—” you click your fingers to conjure the name from thin air “—Gojirasaurus! Your favourite, right?”

Tsukishima pauses. It’s a fleeting thing, but you notice. The corner of his lips curves into a barely-there smile. He seems pleased that you remembered. You busy your hands with repositioning the cutlery a fourth time so maybe, hopefully, you can distract yourself enough not to say something stupid like: “If I visit, will you show it to me?” or “Do you miss me, like I miss you?”

You clear your throat. “I hear the Sendai Frogs have been doing well, too. Congratulations on moving up to division one”.

Those aureate eyes are sliding to you again, bright and searching. Tsukishima arches his brow in a delicate mocking gesture that was unbearable when he was sixteen and even more so now. “Keeping tabs on me, are you?”

There’s mirth trickling into his voice, giving it a familiar smarmy lilt. A wave of emotion washes over you. Embarrassment and heart-twisting-happiness. You shove some rice into your mouth and chew it down to fine paste, vying for time to formulate a coherent sentence. “No. I read about it in the latest Volleyworld issue,” you reply unconvincingly.

“You don’t read Volleyworld”.

“How would you know that?”

Tsukishima takes a shallow breath and nods. The warm gloam of late afternoon mellows his taut features. “I’ve been reading too,” he says after another sip of wine. “I saw you finally published your book”.

Dread seized the inner workings of your mind and the apology on the tip of your tongue curdles. Time ticks by, one sickening second after another. Your eyes dip low to avoid his gaze—which for some reason, he refused to direct anywhere else.

Your recollection of the break up itself was hazy at best. There had been no raised voices, no desperate movie-esque kiss, no slammed doors. Only grief filling your body like lead, and jumbled, half-hysterical thoughts of ‘Is this it? Are we giving everything up, just like that?’

You remember everything that followed, though. The inability to accept reality. It is said if a writer falls in love, that love can never die. And so you kept writing, and writing, and writing; perceiving love through different lenses, creating different endings; relying on metaphors of natural forces and disasters, of cannibalism and gluttony, of journeys and patience to make sense of it all. Six months after everything fell apart you completed the final draft of ‘The Vanishing Moon’, dedicating a final testimony to him in small print on the first page.

Given the choice, I would’ve rather had you at my side than any one of these words.

Has he seen it? Is that what he’s getting at? Did he read through all eighteen chapters and meticulously pick out the remnants of him you pressed between the pages?

“Noya said it made him cry,” you eventually reply.

Tsukishima signals for another drink. He takes two flutes from the server, handing one to you. You accept it with a soft ‘thanks’, hoping he didn’t notice the tremor in your fingers. “Nishinoya-san cried when he found out swans can be gay,” he points out.

“You cried at The Land Before Time”.

“What kind of cold hearted bastard doesn’t cry at The Land Before Time?”

Laughter bubbles up in your chest as the initial dread ebbs away and the tension seeps from your shoulders. Tsukishima dips his chin, a small smile as he mutters, “That’s better”.

In the centre of the hall Tanaka cradles Kiyoko in his arms, now surrounded by clusters of their loved ones whirling with their own partners, a hurricane of colour and laughter and love. Tsukishima observes them with a solemn gleam in his eye. That could’ve been us, his heart says in chorus with your own.

“Do you remember that time we danced together in third year, at the summer festival? I tried to kiss you and gave you a nosebleed”.

“I remember”.

Your gaze drops to the bottom of your glass. At the time you had been mortified. Now it’s a story you would share at your own wedding table. The thought cleaves your heart in half.

“Do you remember the song that was playing?”

“Why are you bringing this up?” Tsukishima snaps. “Yes, I remember everything. I couldn’t forget even if I wanted to. Happy?”

There’s a surge of something devastating in your chest, like love and heartbreak all at once, strong enough that you feel as if your ribs might splinter just to make room for it. But they don’t—and you don’t, because you’ve felt this before, and your body remembers.

You remember.

Suddenly the room is too hot, and the music is too loud. “Sorry. I’ll be back in a minute,” you murmur, pushing your chair back and getting to your feet.

“Wait,” in one short breath there are long, calloused fingers circling your wrist. You do wait. Tsukishima hesitates, the pressure elevates, and as you lean away your palm slips into his, skin kissing skin. Then he’s standing, towering over you. “I’ll come with you. I know a place that’s quiet”.

Tsukishima does not let go of your hand, and you don’t let go of his. He walks a few steps ahead guiding you through the throngs of people. Some familiar heads turn, their attention drawn immediately to the place where your bodies meet, and shooting you various looks of encouragement or confusion. Yamaguchi sees you pass and his mouth splits into a grin so wide that his eyes crinkle.

You’re not sure where it is he’s taking you, only that his promise of finding quiet is true. The cacophony simmers and soon enough the festivities are muffled entirely. Just when you think you’ve wound up at the end of a corridor it curves, leading to a pair of french doors. “Come on,” Tsukishima ushers you out onto a balcony.

What you’re greeted by makes your breath catch. The world as it is around you comes to a standstill, the fabric of reality peeling away. An orange yolk dips below the horizon and the sunset hour drapes across the ostensibly endless meadow hidden behind the Karumai Gardens. Rolls of grass sway in the wind, peppered with wildflowers of every shade.

You move to stand at the balcony’s edge. Tsukishima drops his hand, and your fingers curl into your palm. The shadows grow longer, the air cooler. The evening insects begin to sing. You’re warmed still by the wine thrumming in your bloodstream.

“Hey, Tsukki?”

He comes to stand beside you, folding his arms atop the wall. “Don’t call me that”.

“Oh,” you swallow against the swell in your throat. “Sorry, Tsukishima”.

Tsukishima’s expression twists into a scowl. There’s a blush creeping toward his ears. “I didn’t mean that,” he says. You blink and wait for him to elaborate, which only flusters him further. He stares stubbornly at the border. “Just—call me as you normally would. Anything else sounds wrong in your mouth”.

The name leaves you in an instant. Hushed—not whispered, “…Kei”.

He makes an inquisitive noise, strangled as it is.

“You didn’t say what you thought of it,” you continued. “My book”.

You feel a rush of adrenaline when Kei doesn't answer immediately, unable to read his expression. “Good,” he says, veiled indifference belied by the restless twisting of a cufflink between his forefinger and thumb. “It was good”.

“Well, that’s practically a Pulitzer recommendation coming from you”.

“Shut up,” he huffed, gaze flitting across your face and dropping to your tentative, uncertain beginning of a smile. He wets his lips and glances away. Heartened, both by the alcohol and his reciprocation, you press closer in small increments, and Kei flowers under your gentle persuasion, like he always used to.

“This okay?”

In lieu of a reply you are ensconced by a warm, firm chest and two strong arms around your back that show no sign of withdrawing. The low timbre of his voice vibrates under your cheek, “Who was it for?”

“Hm?”

“The book. You dedicated it to someone”.

You exhale, squeezing your eyes shut. You’re glad, in part, that he can’t see the emotion written plainly on your face. “Nobody,” you answer lightly, angling to position your ear right over his beating heart. “Just an ex. You don’t know him”.

“Right,” Kei says, drawing out the ‘l’ the way he does when conceding a point he knows he’s correct about. It sounds so fond that you want to curl up where you’re resting, like some benevolent cat. “Guy must’ve been a dick”.

“I was too. We made a lot of mistakes, I think,” you say. If nothing came of this you would at least be able to revisit it; to pick at the scab and stop the wound from closing over too soon. There’s comfort in that. You crane your head and meet his gaze, nervous but unwavering. “But even if he was kind of a dick, I miss him a lot”.

“Yeah?” his eyes soften, half lidded and dark. “He misses you too”.

“He told you that, did he?” your mouth trembles. Kei dips to bring your foreheads together, and the hard frame of his glasses bumps your eyebrow. You share a shaky exhale of laughter.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, brow pinched with regret. Again, “I’m sorry. I know I fucked up”.

You feel your jaw quiver. The familiar burn behind your eyes. Tears so close you can taste them. “We both did. Don’t shoulder the blame on your own”.

“But I made you feel lonely,” he says.

You tuck your chin and whisper, “Yes”.

His fingers splayed across your cheek, pinky tucked beneath your jaw as he cradled your face in his hand, tilting until you’re staring back at the reflection in his pupils. Puffy and damp, eyelashes clumped with tears. What a sight.

Kei strokes his thumb in an arc beneath your eye. A tear beads on his nail, slipping into the crook of his hand. The inexpressible tenderness is overwhelming yet you are underwhelmed by the inaction. You can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed by the whine in your voice as you ask, “Are you going to kiss me?”

“Demanding as ever. What happened to ‘please’?” he murmurs. And then he kisses you.

It is slow at first, hesitant, leaving room for you to pull away. But with every languid movement of Kei’s lips came a sweet affirmation, that which you took and took until you no longer felt unworthy of receiving it. His hand flutters at your waist. You take a shuddered breath, pressing closer into his embrace and deepening the kiss. In his distraction you take him by the wrist, encouraging him to touch. There’s an immediate, reverent grip at your hip, kneading over your clothes.

This is what you’d been longing for. The feeling you couldn’t transpose; that which people have long tried to capture. The esoteric, giddy anticipation and joy that bubbled between two people on the precipice of something bigger than themselves. Even with an affinity for stringing words together you are scarcely able to describe it. Immense and overwhelming, light and dark, tender and everything in between.

Kei pulls away for breath with a low, vibrating hum, wearing a smile that you thought you’d never see outside of your memories. Almost boyish when he looks at you. The distance is an inch too many but it is just that—an inch. “Eager,” he teases, only to kiss you again, twice as eager.

For as long as you can remember, you’ve loved love stories.

But love doesn’t only exist in stories.

You remember that, now.