#poor roses... not their fault they need so much care and attention!

[addoration]

poetry prompt: herb garden

hehehe thank you sun!! <3

in sunlight stained pots on concrete paved floors basil, rosemary, and lavender live.

on days when it rains they lower their heads and shake the water off of their green stems

on days when it shines they thank the blue skies then gossip about the blush rosehip buds

(the rosehip buds sigh a heavy, sad sigh... they haven't been pruned in such a long time)

[juliapark13]

If Jungkook has a relationship and he knows what tkkers say, why he doesn't defend Jimin? I'm not saying he should say that Jimin is his boyfriend, but he could make a nice comment about Jimin or say that he cares about Jimin or shows affection. But he doesn't do that. It's always Jimin flirting, hugging him, saying "I love you" and Jungkook never replied. Sometimes he acts like he doesn't like that Jimin is hugging him. There are many clips where Jungkook refuses Jimin or he ignores him, and because of his behaviour, Jimin get dragged by antis. Why do you think Jimin and jikook have many antis in the fandom? Everyone can see that Jimin loves Jungkook, so the problem is Jungkook! Jungkook can't or don't want to show his love for Jimin so jikook seems like an one- side relationship. Why do you think there is the narrative that Jungkook hated Jimin in the past? Even if it's not true, why the narrative exists in the first place? All because of Jungkook. But yes..the poor Jungkook can do what he wants, it's not his fault...who cares about Jimin...

Such an anti behaviour. 😃

Why does Jikook have so many antis? Because everyone is either jealous of them or afraid they are more than friends. People can’t stand that, they pray every night it’s not true.

Jungkook doesn’t act like Jimin bothers him. He doesn’t ignore him or refuse him. It’s only those trash people’s wish. When they don’t see Jungkook hating or ignoring Jimin, they miserably need to make up false narratives and spread them. The narrative he hated Jimin in the past is made up by people who can’t accept the fact Jungkook and Jimin were the closest duo since the beginning.

I don’t know if you really believe Jungkook doesn’t show his love for Jimin, or you only pretent to, but Jungkook has shown his love for Jimin SO many times. He was so brave to do everything he did. He has posted GCFT. The ultimate confirmation. Nothing has ever topped that. Then GCFS. Rose Bowl. But I still love you. He has initials of Jimin’s name permanently tattooed on his ring finger visible for everyone. He said Love you looking directly at Jimin and then touching him at PTD LV. He said keep being jealous, I will keep holding onto Jiminie. He added kookminaredating account to his In the Seom club. He always turns his whole body and attention to Jimin when he speaks. He drops honorifics only for him. He posted 1 minute thirst trap on his birthday only for him. How much louder do you want him to be? Everyone can see Jungkook loves Jimin, but not everyone can accept it and that’s the difference.

He literally tried so hard to show Jimin is his number one to everybody, it’s not his fault people denied it, ignored it and found an excuse for everything... Everyone wants what jikook have anyway.

[nightowlfandom]

Kakashi Hatake- Cheeky

 ANON ASKS

Hey author-chan how are you? Well I saw that your requests are open and I would like to know if you write to Naruto and if the answer is yes, could I get a Kakashi x f!reader imagine/oneshot with prompt #19, please?

I ended up asking her to choose a couple more prompts, aaannnd here they are!

#19- Hmm, who you tryna’ look sexy for babygirl?

#20- Don’t finish that sentence darling…it won’t end well for you

#27- I couldn’t stop thinking about you all day.

#30- Dance for me. I’ll sit right here and you put on a show, okay?

 #47- You’re too cheeky for you own good, kid.

warning.....I will fuck up your day. Might be OOC but almost all my shit kinda is imo lol Does anyone really care?....he spits in your mouth..... I am sorry for absolutely nothing.

CHECKOUT MY MASTERLIST HERE!

Leggo

...

“Watch it, Kid!”

“Why don’t you walk where you walk!” you caught the throwing star between your two fingers as it was hurled back at you. “You’re cutting into my training time.” you rolled your eyes.

“Damnit Y/N you could have taken my eye out.” Kakashi groaned. “Be careful with that thing!” 

“Like that would have been a bad thing.” you scoffed. “Get out of the way next time.” you rubbed your shoulder. “If you weren’t in my line of vision, you wouldn’t have almost got caught in the crossfire.”

“You know you love looking at me.”

“How can I when no one ever sees your face.” you burst out laughing. “What kinda mug you got under than mask, huh?” you challenged. 

“You’re too cheeky for your own good kid, someone outta bring you down a few notches.”

“And just whose gonna do that.” you rolled your eyes, turning away from him.

You ignored his answer and bent over, stretching to touch your toes. “My back.” you groaned. When you stood up straight again, he was staring at you. “You need something?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” he blinked(...or winked?) at you.

“I can’t tell if that was a wink or not...” you raised a brow.

“Good.”

“You’re a real-”

“ Don’t finish that sentence darling…it won’t end well for you “

He walked off, undoubtedly wearing a self-satisfactory look on his face.

“How does she put up with him?”

“Damn, I thought she was really gonna kill him for a minute.”

“You’d think those two liked each other with how much they argue backed and forth.”

“It’s not nice to gossip.” you called behind your back to your comrades. You shoved the throwing star back into your pouch and walked off. Kakashi Hatake and Y/N L/N were always the talk of the town. One was always getting on the nerves of the others.

....

You were relaxing in your house after a long day of training. It was good to work out your skills while nothing was going on. You never knew when something was gonna happen. You stretched your arms over your head as you walked into your kitchen. 

“God I’m starving.” you sighed. Before you could dig through your fridge, there was a knock at the door.

“I’m coming!” you called, knowing they could hear. As you neared the door, the knocking only got louder. “Geez Hold on-!” You yanked the door open to see Kakashi awkwardly standing there. He wore his authoritative demeanor.

“Y/N, may I come in?” he spoke. You almost peaked behind his shoulder, people were walking around outside. ‘We must talk.”

“Sure.” you made room for him to walk in. Just as you closed the door, you were pushed up against the door. He yanked down his mask to show that daring smirk. You felt his lips brush against yours. Kakashi wrapped his arms around your waist, hoisting you up and pushing you even further against the door.

“ I couldn’t stop thinking about you all day. “ he moaned against your lips. “Shit you drive me crazy.” he growled.  “I bet you thought your little show was cute.”

“Got your attention didn’t it?” you giggled through the friction. “If we’re gonna sneak around, might as well make it fun for me too.”

For the last several months you had been more than casual with Kakashi. He trailed his hand down your spine, resting at the base of your back. 

“I have half a mind to punish you.” he began kissing down your neck. “But I missed you so much.”

“So does that mean you can stay for the night or do you have to wrangle those three morons again?” you melted into his tough as the thoughts of the Three Stooges getting into trouble that required Kakashi to clean up....again. 

“I’ll stay if you want me to.” he began kissing your cheeks, forehead, nose and lips. He kept rotating around each area of your face. To answer his question, you helped him out of his jacket. “Hm, okay then.” he smirked. 

“I don’t need to tell you where my bedroom is do I?” you stepped away from him.

... (Two days later)

Training in the woods wasn’t so bad. But training while Kakashi dragged his students along was gonna drive you absolutely crazy.

“Y/N! Y/N!”

“Yes. Naruto.” you seethed. ‘What can I do for you.”

“I’m gonna be the best Ninja in the world! You just watch! I’ll be able to beat you one day!”

“That’s great buddy!” you tried to laugh. Cute. No one could compare to you when it came to throwing sharp things at a target. You walked by Kakashi sending him a harsh glare. You walked ahead of the group. No one could see it, but your annoyance made him smile a bit. You stopped in front of a three, pinning a target to it before walking a good 30 feet away from it. You went into your pouch and took out a throwing star.

With a single flick of the wrist you threw it, watching it slice through the air and hit the target right in the middle. You walked back another few feet and did it again. Good to know you hadn’t lost your touch.

“Wow. Miss Y/N sure knows what she’s doing.” Sakura whispered to Kakashi. “I can see why everyone raves about her,”

“Yes. She is very capable, Sakura. She has impeccable precision.” he commented. Although he was thinking something completely different. Everyone watched as you took out your annoyance on the bullseye target, When you had ran out of stars, you trudged back up to the tree and yanked each one out.

Later on, Sakura, Sasuke, and Naruto were all napping. All had passed out at some point after some extreme training courtesy of Kakashi. As for you, you were sitting by the lake, getting some much needed recreation. You had just gone for a swim. The ice cold water felt perfect. 

You stood up against the tree facing away from everyone. You were prepared to get back into the water when Kakashi came up, slowly ridding himself of his shirt as he did.

“Going for a-” you were cut off as he pushed himself against you, claiming your mouth in a kiss. Not that you weren’t totally happy, but his students were literally napping less that 50 feet away from you both.

“W-wha are you-?”

“Shhh.” Kakashi pulled down his mask then got down on his knees as he fumbled with your panties. “If we’re gonna do this, you gotta be quiet.”

“You’ve had some pretty dumb ideas but-...fuh.” you cut yourself off as you felt him trail his hands up your thigh. He pressed small kisses down your thighs. You were still soaking wet from the water, so your skin was slippery. He pulled your panties down, placing small kisses along your heat.

You dared peek over your shoulder. Everyone was still sleeping, but you found it hard to focus. Kakashi gently drove his tongue into your slit, causing a sharp gasp to escape your lungs. Your legs shook as his tongue flicked against your clit.

“Kakashi~” you shuddered. You found yourself running your hands against his silvery white hair. He grabbed your leg and hooked it over his shoulder. “We could get caught!”

“Exciting isn’t it?” he giggled. “You just have to stay quiet.” you felt his fingers slither inside you. “ Come on Y/N... Dance for me. I’ll sit right here and you put on a show, okay? “ he moaned, sloppily dragging his tongue up your slit. “Shit- You’re so fucking good, Y/N. You’re soaking.” he laughed evilly. 

“Whose f-fault is that!”

He slapped your ass, making you gasp again. You could just picture that shit eating grin on his face. 

You were made to stand up straight as Kakashi rose to his feet. He hoisted you up, wrapping both of your legs around his torso. You hadn’t noticed that his pants had dropped around his ankles. You felt his painfully slowly slide himself inside. 

“They’re still sleeping.” he grunted, slowly thrusting into you. “Fuck I needed this.” he moaned. “I need you~” he coughed. “Kiss me.” 

He, in a hurry, sloppily kissed you. Your tongues clashed. You faced heated up from the lewd sounds your mouths made as they clashed together. Kakashi pushed your further against the tree. 

“Kakashi..” you were able to muster. 

“Open your fucking mouth.” he cut you off. “Now...” he growled. 

You obediently did as he asked, sticking out your tongue as Kakashi let a line of drool go from his tongue to yours. He claimed your mouth again while he dug his nails into your thighs. His cock twitched inside of you as his thrusts grew sloppy. 

You couldn’t even talk through his kisses. Your insides clenched around him, feeling yourself grow more and more sensitive at his touch. You didn’t care how loud you were anymore and he didn’t either. 

“I’m gonna- I’m gonna fucking cum. I’m gonna- ARGH-” 

You felt him practically bottom out inside of you, cumming inside your depths. To avoid making any sounds, he kissed you again. With one harsh thrust, you came too. You heard those lewd watery sounds as liquids dripped out of your pussy, down your legs. Poor plants. 

“Kakashi~” you moaned again.

“It feels good?” he talked down to you in a babyish voice. “You like my cum inside you don’t you.” he spilled the rest of himself into you tightness. “And they’re still sleeping.” he smirked. “You were worried about nothing.”

“Shut up.” you rolled your eyes. You whined as he slowly removed himself from you. 

“It’s running down your leg.” he laughed. “Shit, you’re so sexy.” he dragged his tongue down your neck. “Shit-”

“You’re lucky we didn’t get caught.” you shakily spoke. “And you call me the cheeky one.”

“Hm, don’t be like that, babe...or else I might not to easy on you this time.”

(This one was not so much hardcore, but it was something, so I’m all caught up with requests I think! Does anyone here fucks with Haikyuu?.....Can I- Can I write for Haikyuu?)

[dancingamongstdust]

Can you write a tsukishima kei X reader where they both tease eachother but don't realise that they have feelings for eachother. Then tsukishima says something really offensive to reader and she gets really upsets and ignores him, he then realizes his feelings for her?

I struggled writing this but it was actually quite fun! Thank you for the request.

Teasing was something fun. The tumbling words were light and playful, hinting at something more but never letting their secrets free.

You lived for the flash of annoyance in Tsukishima’s hazel eyes; a small smirk always betraying that he enjoyed the banter. Whether you were speaking to him or commenting loud enough to draw his attention, he would turn to you fully and respond in kind. Though his words dripped in sarcasm, you never took them personally.

Perhaps you should have. Your comments never held any malice and you always strayed away from actual insults.

Tsukishima didn’t quite understand that part of your game.

Some of the things that he said stung. In those times, you’d just flip him off and pretend to go about your day without a second thought. But they did bother you.

Enough to find you standing in front of your mirror and glaring at your reflection as though it could give you the answers. Everything about your relationship with Tsukishima was frivolous. You had never held a real conversation. He was just a stupidly confident man with a sharp tongue and honeyed hair. His glasses were ridiculous, his taste in music was poor, and his eyes were the type of golden brown that snatched your breath from your lungs.

You groaned and turned away from your reflection.

Why did you have to fall for him?

Was it because of his voice and the soft edge that lay beneath its harsh words? Perhaps the gentleness of his movements had drawn your attention. He never looked out of place and you envied him that.

You contemplated telling him initially but decided against it. Getting a better feel of his attitude towards you would help before any misguided confessions slipped out.

That lasted until the next day.

“I know I shouldn’t be expecting anything intelligent to come from you but think things through a little more before you speak.”

Tsukishima glanced down at you as he passed, the hint of a smile on his lips. The insult wasn’t meant. He had often mocked your intelligence before to little response – after all, he knew that you didn’t get easily offended.

This time though, you didn’t immediately respond and when you did, it was just a slight jab about something trivial.

He turned around to look back at you but you had hurried off somewhere.

Shrugging that off, he continued on his day until the next time he saw you. When he did, he waited for the retaliation.

And waited.

And waited.

He was so focused on listening out for your snide comment that he didn’t even pay attention to his other conversation. Yamaguchi, thankfully, didn’t need an active participant in his discussion. He only seemed minorly confused by Tsukishima’s confusion before continuing.

Once you’d left, he sighed and said, “Maybe it’s been a bad day.”

Tsukishima glanced over his shoulder to confirm you hadn’t walked back in. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You didn’t, like, call her a bitch, right?”

“What? Obviously not.”

Yamaguchi shrugged. “Then don’t worry so much about it. She’ll be back to normal soon.”

Tsukishima scoffed, electing to pretend the conversation was unimportant. He changed the topic onto something that was more in his area of expertise but his thoughts kept hanging on you. It irritated him to no end and he spent the rest of the day snapping a little too harshly at everybody.

The next day went no better.

He waited to hear your voice, having never realised before how well he knew it. It was something missing from his day and he didn’t even know why.

“It’s not my fault if she’s going to be sensitive about stupid stuff,” he stated when Yamaguchi next commented about your unusual silent treatment.

“Nope. Some people are just soft.”

“You’re one of those people,” Tsukishima had retorted. He meant it mockingly though any kind of rudeness had little effect on his best friend. It was part of who he was… he had really believed you understood that.

Yamaguchi tried to move on but Tsukishima continued with his complaints.

“Why would she just suddenly start taking offense to things?”

“Maybe you hit a nerve.”

“How was I meant to know she was touchy about her intelligence? Anyway, it was days ago. She should be over it by now.”

“If it’s bothering you that much, just say sorry.”

“It’s not bothering me.”

He wasn’t stupid – of course, it was – but he was hardly about to tell somebody that. You were nobody to him and your lack of comments was an absolute relief. In fact, he was rather happy that you had decided to finally take the hint.

A whole month passed and he stopped waiting to hear your voice. His stubbornness kept any apology away from you, even though one accidental meetup in the hall had nearly drawn one out. It was honestly ridiculous, he had nothing to apologise about.

He could apologise just to have you speak to him again… Tsukishima quickly chased away that traitorous thought. It was rare for him to apologise for things that actually required it, let alone for nonsense like this. A simple fact that everybody he complained to seemed to directly refute.

Just apologise. Just apologise. Like he cared enough to do so.

It took him another two months to realise why he minded so much. Why he was still hung up on you despite your supposed non-importance.

He had been walking with Yamaguchi when they passed a flower store, the place having a special on roses for your loved ones. Yamaguchi had decided to get some and for a split second, Tsukishima had touched the petals and considered buying some for you.

He pulled his hand away as though it had been burned.

“Normally you get fifteen for a situation like this.”

He scoffed at Yamaguchi. “You really need to deal with your obsession about this woman.”

Tsukishima didn’t buy fifteen roses but he realised then what it was about you that bothered him so. And he absolutely hated the conclusion that he came to.

He stepped in front of you the next day, drawing your attention to him (though he didn’t know that it rarely left). “Why are you ignoring me?” he asked.

“I’m not?” It sounded like a question, even to you.

Tsukishima wasn’t going to argue with you about it. He just raised an eyebrow and waited for you to sigh and continue.

“I’m just… I…”

“Wow that explains it very well.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Would it kill you to say something nice?”

“Since when have we ever been nice to each other?” he asked.

Of course you didn’t have an answer for that. You had never been ‘nice’ to each other – at least not in the way most people would consider nice. But the thing was, those moments still came to your memory fondly.

“You know, I always made sure never to actually insult you,” you said.

“I never actually insulted you.”

“Yes, you did,” you pointed out. “You’re constantly pointing out how stupid I am or how uncoordinated I am or whatever!”

“It’s not like I meant them.”

That tripped you up a little. Tsukishima’s height had you looking up at him, his expression entirely unchanged. Why would he have said things that weren’t true? It wasn’t like you had even initiated this entire taunt exchange way back when you had first met. Sure, you had responded but it was his comment on your hair that had gotten to you.

“You didn’t… what?”

Tsukishima stared at you like you were stupid. “It’s not my fault if you choose to take things personally but get over it a bit quicker, would you?”

It wasn’t an apology, not by a long shot, but it was enough to explain something that you couldn’t quite pinpoint yourself. Tsukishima wanted to talk to you. Even if he thought you were being childish, his main problem lay in your sudden silent treatment.

“We’re not friends,” you said.

“No.”

“So why do you care if we’re talking or not?”

He shrugged. “I don’t.”

He did. Of course he did. Part of him wanted to say that but his pride just wouldn’t allow it. Thankfully, the message seemed to get through to you regardless.

“Do you want to go out for lunch?” you offered.

“Why would I ever want to do that?”

You smiled, noticing the small smirk’s appearance on his face. “Tomorrow. At 12.”

“Fine.”

Tsukishima left you standing there, refusing to glance back even if he wanted to. He told himself it was because he didn’t care and it had nothing to do with the uncharacteristic smile on his face.

[hawks-soup]

A Day with your Friends

A/N: Baby’s first smuttle (and fic) please be gentle. Also this is based off @libiraki​ boys! She is a writing inspiration to me. 

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Degradation, Humiliation, Misogyny, Dubcon/Noncon. 

Pairings: Hawks / Shigaraki / Dabi x Reader

You should have known, really, you should have.. but it never failed to surprise you on how purely disgusting and sick-minded the people you hung around could be. Sure they were villains, murdered people, did petty small and large crimes, everything bad in the sense.. But you’d think being a part of their little gang would give you some relief from their behavior. Treat you with a bit of respect since you were team members ya know? “Pft Awee, c’mon doll we were just joking, don’t get your panties in a fucking twist!” Dabi rasped from across the room, snickers of delight joining his.

How wrong you were, but again, you knew and was used to it by now. 

_______________

“It was just a little pinch doll.. Didn’t mean nothing by it, just having a bit of fun is all. Right Shiggy? Bird boy?” Dabi purred out to you, Hawks comments of agreement following suit and a grunt from the leader himself.

“Oh I’m sure she liked it.. Just too flustered to admit it. Wouldn’t wear such revealing clothes around us if she didn’t want us to touch her.” Came Shigaraki’s low tone, nursing the drink he was given by his two male partners, who’d already finished off theirs.

Now Dabi and Shigaraki were one thing to deal with together. If anything Shiggy dear would roll his eyes and just ignore his burnt partners jabs at teasing you, never caring to give him the satisfaction of knowing they were on good enough terms to help torment you.. But with Hawks joining the team and hanging around the two, it’s like Shiggy was opened to the idea that messing with you was actually pretty fucking fun with the two playing with you. 

So now, he joined in the fun of making nasty remarks and grabbing at you like they did. Pulling at your shirt, tugging your skirt up, pinching any exposed skin.. Really, you wish he’d turn back into the hermit that stared at you every once in a while he once was and leave Dabi to being the only one that preyed on you, cause at least by himself he got bored. Now there were 3 of them on your heels. And whenever you’d complain to Kurogiri - hell even AFO whenever you got the chance - they gave the simple answer of ‘boys will be boys, little one.’ They are dealing with that time in their life ‘no they weren’t, they weren’t fucking teenagers popping boners whenever a girl breathed their way’, and they aren’t doing much harm are they? It’s typical for a guy to pick on the girl he’s attracted to, let them be and just try to deal with it.

“Come on baby bird.. We didn’t mean anything by it, come back to us.. I’ll let you sit on my lap and we can have an exclusive fan meet right here~.” The perverted bird brained male purred. You could hear a whistle after it, and assumed Dabi. Hawks.. Was interesting. Sometimes he came off as that billboard hero and would show some compassion, but flushed it right down the toilet when he got too comfortable. Who would have known he was a gross pervert along with the rest? Making sexual comments and too comfortably rubbing at an exposed skin you could offer. And with the way Dabi egged him on, he started to cross boundaries like smacking at your ass, and on the worst of days, using his feather to pull down your skirt whenever given the chance. You could have sworn you heard a camera shutter, but the bastard was quick enough to put away his phone before you could press him on it. But still, you couldn’t help but keep your rose-colored glasses on to the fact he was your favorite hero.. Or at least your hero crush. While you didn’t like heroes, you had to admit you were like any other girl who saw an attractive guy that could give an award winning smile. A little star-struck you could say.

“Yeah doll, come sit on his lap. Aren’t you a fan? This is a pretty big offer here. Hell, I’ll let you even sit on mine after.” “As if. And if you three are done, I’d like to leave now.”  You made your way out the kitchen to ‘throw away some trash’, but was really an excuse just to get away from them for a moment without them stopping you. You didn’t dare go back over to them though, opting to stand against the doorway of the kitchen that peered into the living rooming where they all sat. They’d pressured you into joining them at Dabi’s place to ‘hang around’ and ‘get to know your favorite hero crush’, and in your naiveness of believing their words of letting you hang around and fan over Hawks - despite your working in partner of villain status - you fell prey to being trapped in the run down apartment with them making sure you didn’t escape.

“What?? Awe com’on we just got here! Don’t run away yet little girl.” Dabi gave a fake pout. “I promise we won’t touch you anymore, feather. Just come back okay?” That charming smile and soft pat to the empty space on the couch between the two of them after. Shigaraki has yet to speak, more so one to get handsy rather than talk the talk like the other two.

“I.. don’t know. Do you guys promise to behave?” “We promise dove, just come back.” “We’ll be good dollface, let’s get back to having fun.” Naive at best, you poor fool.

_______________

Hands all over you, you just knew it would happen but it was your fault really for going back. Your shirt lifted up to expose your chest and skirt way over on across the floor after being carelessly tossed away. 

“You dress like this just to get us to notice you, don’t ya?” Too hot hands rubbing the pebbled nips as you were forced onto his lap, legs spread over his to leave you open for the rest.

“Fuck little bird, you always let them do this to you? And I thought I was special. Guess you are nothing but a common whore for us to play with like they say. You aren’t even in my lap, some fan you are.” Fake disappointment in his tone, but really he was enjoying rubbing at your clothed slit. Trying to wiggle his fingers into the sides of the fabric and get to your petaled flesh. Sitting right beside you both and pressed up as much as he could be. Shigaraki was near your legs - you could tell - breathing hard against your knee as his rough hand smoothed over your leg, the other rubbing your sock covered toes. “She’s nothing but a slut, bet she want’s to fuck her way to the top like the leech harlot she is. She’s always coming into my room, she wants me to do something to her.” He rasped, now licking at your knee with his wet tongue. He was drooling and it started to soak your socks.

“I’m just checking on you like Kurogiri as-a-AH! Stop!” Dabi’s fingers pinched harder, his other now yanking up at your panties to make them wedge into your pussy and between the lips. “Damn ain’t that cute. Bird brain, take a picture for me won’t you?” “Already on it my friend.. Fuck, you have a cute pussy. I can’t wait to use it. I bet you’re fucking tight, even with you being a little whore and all.” Shutters of the camera clicking every few seconds, telling he got a few and at different angles. His free hand spreading at your lips, tugging the tightened fabric over to the side, and even pressing his fingers to the entrance. Making sure to capture every move he made. “N-no guys seriously stop! I don’t wanna do this anymore! I wanna go home, please!” You cried, tears starting to leak down your cheeks the more violated and humiliated you felt. You didn’t like this feeling, your body may have been responding but god did this feel so wrong. You felt sick to your stomach.

“Don’t cry, aren’t you glad your favorite hero is giving you such special attention? You wear the cutest clothes around me, you wanted me to touch you.” “She wears these clothes everyday around us. She’s a little kitty in heat I bet. Besides, it’s your fault really. You should know better to hang around men all by yourself dressed like this.. Really, you want this I can tell.” Dabi purred into your ear, his grip and grabbing getting rougher now.

Your soft pleas of ‘no’s’ were ignored when you felt a finger dig it’s way deep into your slick heat. You cursed yourself for enjoying how the thick fingers explored and stretched you, deep humiliation bubbling in your tummy at their laughs and enjoyment from your embarrassment. You didn’t like this… You wanted them to stop and let you go. You needed a bath to wash away their touch.

“Your body knows what it wants. You’re such a dedicated fan aren’t you? You’re doing so good for me baby bird. Being our little slut, just for us only.” Hawks praise.. Felt so good. It ran shivers all up and down your body, causing you to mewl the more his big digits squished into your heat. Gods you couldn’t stop crying though, your brain knowing how fucked up this was. Even though your body felt pleasure, you still felt so dirty and wrong. The ‘stop’s’ and ‘no’s’ didn’t end though, your brain knew better than to give in to what your nerves felt.. This didn’t feel good, and you couldn’t help but turn away and shut your eyes, hoping for it to be over soon.

“Hey you fucking creep, be useful and hold the camera. Record her or something. Add some content to that spank bank you got on your computer, ya?” Dabi grunted behind you, bucking his hips up to steady you more firmly against his chest, causing that leathery bulge to buck against you. While one hand remained tormenting you poor tender tits, the other ran down to your cunny, rubbing at your little clit and adding more stimulation to the already thrusting fingers of Hawks.

“Fuck off asshat. Don’t got a spank bank..” Shigaraki mumbled from below, but snatched the camera from Hawks hand anyways and turned on the record function. Though even then he was still licking at your legs and rubbing his red-tipped member with his free hand, leaking pre-cum all over his hand and your foot. Was that camera truly angled? He didn’t know nor care, he just wanted to fucking cum. Assholes probably wouldn't send this to him anyways. “Better not be fucking shaky cause you can’t stop beating your meat, fucking virgin. Don’t wanna hear your desperate breathing either so keep it down.” Dabi teased, using his foot to kick at Shigaraki’s side with a laugh. And from the red tinting the pale cheeks, he knew he had gotten to him like always. “Fucking shut UP!” “What!? You’re the creep jacking it to her fucking feet when you got a perfectly wet cunt in your face! The hells wrong with you, ya’ nasty bastard?” 

“Can you both shut up and focus on that task at hand, giving my fan the spotlight. Looks like she’s close to… That right birdy? Gonna come for me… for us? You been dressing up like this to get our attention right? And now look at you, you got it and so much more~.” My how his fingers felt good, and you hated it. They had been nothing but perverted freaks towards you. Having their dirty gazes upon you and their hands fleeting on your clothes and body whenever you got within arm's reach of them. Only for your body to betray you in this way, what the hell was wrong with you..? Even with the rising knot in your stomach, you still hated the feeling.

“Come on sweet thing, let go for us.. Give us a show.” Dabi whispered in your ear, that that’s all it took paired with their stimulating fingers to ruin you. The spasm in your hips interrupts caused you to buck a little and gasp but cutting yourself off with the bite of a lip. You didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of hearing you cum along with seeing it.  “Nngh!” The feeling is unfair, unable to stop the jet of liquid that shoots out from in between your legs as you curl and uncurl your toes, trying hard to close your legs but your own body not allowing it. 

After having a moment to let your body somewhat settle, your hazy eyes looked down at the mess you made. Due to Shigaraki being in the line of fire, your fluids had gotten all over his face. He looked stunned for a moment, his body freezing up like a deer caught in headlights. You were a little worried that maybe he was angry, but once you felt the warm seeping into your socks you could tell he stiffened up cause he came… from humping your fucking feet. And to add onto it, your cum directly targeting him pushed him over the edge in a sudden pace he didn’t set.

Your eyes then flicker up to the two degenerates holding you at hearing the sound of coos, “Oh my, would look at that, little one just squirted.” Hawks teased, thankfully moving his fingers out of your sopping cunt onto your tummy, giving it soft grazes of affection. Dabi on the other hand wasn’t feeling as loving, giving you abused pussy a wet slap which caused you to jump. “Cumming all over him, and we’re the ones doing all the work.” Dabi tsk’ed, giving Shigaraki a sneer before kicking him again. “Enjoying it asshole? I hope you savor that, it’s the only time you’ll have a bitch squirt on you.” Which in turn caused Shigaraki to hiss at him and swipe at his leg that narrowly pulled away. He didn’t bother to respond though, not trusting his voice to come out without a stammer. He had to admit, the warm liquid on his face felt fucking hot, and after a quick swipe of his tongue, it tasted good.

All it took was for you to try to squirm your way out of Dabi’s lap to snap them all back to focusing on you. Shigaraki now dropping the phone to place both hands on your knees, Dabi’s rough hands finding your hips and digging into them, and Hawks gently grabbing your chin and pulling it to his direction. Those golden orbs hyper focused on you, almost like he was looking at a piece of meat. “Oh no where do you think you’re going feather? It would be unfair to not help us get off when we helped you. Come on, be a good little fan for me? I’ll even buy you something pretty after, for being such a good girl.”

You didn’t have a choice, you knew that for sure. All you could do is give a small nod before feeling warm lips pressed to yours. “Atta girl.”

[eirist]

In the Heat of the Moment

Disclaimer: One Piece (and its characters) belongs to Eiichiro Oda-sensei.

Reminder: I have no beta-reader. Any grammatical and spelling errors are solely mine.

Warning: OOC possible. One shot.

Rating: T

Note: For Day 3—Nami’s Day—of the ZoNa Days event (at @zonamievents). I’m already late but still posting it. It’s unfair if it’s only Zoro who gets an entry.

In the Heat of the Moment is by Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds. I still have The Umbrella playlist to thank for being such a good company.

Summary: "You're getting sappy witch. Sounds like you care about me."

The rain hadn’t let up from the moment it began to pour down.

Which should not have been a problem in the first place… the Straw Hats have their very own weather expert-slash-navigator extraordinaire after all.

If only said weather expert-slash-navigator extraordinaire didn't get distracted, arguing with a certain green-haired swordsman.

"This is your fault!" Nami complained, rubbing her arms with her hands in a poor attempt to keep the emerging chill away.

​Somehow satisfied, she folded her arms across her chest as she sulkily glared at the rain which has now completely turned into a steady downpour.

​Luckily she was able to pull the man with her towards an alcove in the town's wall before they got drenched. It was an uncomfortable fit, as they were almost pressed to each other, but it'll do.

​Zoro was snarling beside her. "This rain is MY fault?" He huffed. "Right! It's my fault coz I absolutely can make it rain on a whim!"

Nami turned sharply towards him, glaring daggers. "If you hadn't gotten lost—" 

"I DON'T GET LOST!" 

"—like the idiot that you are," she continued ignoring Zoro's outburst, deliberately raising her tone and effectively drowning his retort with her shrill voice. "Then we wouldn't be stuck in here ZORO!" Her voice jumped another octave when she said his name. "In. HERE!" She repeated the words, making sure to emphasize them and hoping to drill it straight into his thick, dumb skull. 

"Tch! Then you shouldn't have followed me!" The former bounty hunter groused.

​"Besides, aren't you supposed to be good at predicting the weather?" He commented sardonically. "Shouldn't you have known that it’s going to rain today?" 

Nami gaped at him disbelievingly. ​And heat rose to her cheeks.

​She gave his shin a good kick for that.

​​"Ite!" 

​"I know that!" Nami practically shrieked at him. "That's why I followed you here to tell you about it! Is this the thanks I get from making sure you don't get your dumb self lost in this island while a storm is brewing?!"

"Again woman, I DON'T GET LOST!" Not the one to be deterred, Zoro raised his own voice to match hers. "And damn it! Stop kicking me!"

​"Bullshit!" The ever-feisty navigator exclaimed. "That a load of crap and you know it!"

​She angrily poked his chest with her finger. "If I leave you to your own devices... We. Would. Never. Find. You!" She punctuated each word with a prod on his torso. As if that would actually make the idea sink unto him. "I don't want Luffy and Chopper whining about how you are lost and that we should find you!

​Zoro grabbed her hand to stop her from poking a hole in him. Grasping it firmly he all but shouted back at her. "I will be fine! I will find my way back to the Sunny!"

“Hah! Fat chance of that happening!” 

​They were almost nose to nose by this time; all the while scowling at each other, both waiting for the other to back down.

Now only the sound of the rain falling heavily down the soaked earth can be heard as they continued their stare off. Along with the sharp intake of breaths coming from the two of them because honestly, their shouting matches can be quite arduous.

​As the glowering continued; Zoro thought he caught a glint, a spark from behind Nami's eyes before those warm brown orbs widened.

​In what could only be a realization that their current position is leaning towards… precarious. It was also not helping that his own eye had darted all over her face, taking in the flush on her cheeks. Despite it coming from indignation, she still looks...

 ... pretty.

​He almost choked at his thoughts. When did he turn into that shit cook?

Zoro inhaled sharply and realized what a wrong move that was. He caught a whiff of Nami’s signature scent. Sweet with an undertone of zestiness that reminds him of her mikan fruits at their peak of ripeness—that certain moment that makes you want to steal one so you can taste them...

​The color on her face deepened and Zoro wasn't sure if it was because she was getting angrier and angrier by the minute.

Or... If it was because she saw that his stare lingered for more than a second or two at her lips. ​"Screw this!" He grunted, instantly averting his gaze. He felt his face heating up and to get out of their rather 'awkward' situation, he immediately resorted to his favorite defense mechanism whenever he faces off against this orange-haired devil incarnate.

Losing his temper on her. 

"You are not my keeper woman!" He snapped at her before immediately stepping out of their sanctuary and into the rain.

That made Nami snap to attention. "Hey!"

​Without another word Zoro turn around and started walking away from her despite the torrential rain.

WALKING. AWAY. FROM. HER.

While it’s raining cats and dogs. 

 "Zorooo!!!" He heard Nami screeched his name, horrified that he would actually leave her alone. There was no way he was getting back in there with her. Not when it occurred to him that he was only a second away from grabbing her...

...and kissing her.

​He walked in faster strides when she called him again. He had to get away from her. He needed to get away from her.

Far away.

​Because honestly she was driving him crazy lately with all these thoughts of wanting to kiss her surfacing every moment whenever he was with her.  

And who knows what the repercussions are? This is Nami they're talking about. She would probably sic ero-cook and even Luffy if he dared to even try. Or rat him out to either Robin or Usopp or both.

Or charge him more than what his current bounty is.

He winced at that.

​For now he needed to get away and calm himself so he can reflect...

​There was no warning as something collided at his back, almost making him stumble down the wet ground.

Did someone just attack him?

​But the presence wasn't threatening, even if its arms were wrapped around his neck in a chokehold, throttling him.

"YOU DID NOT JUST LEAVE ME ALONE THERE RORONOA ZORO!" Nami deliberately yelled at his ear, probably making his ear drum shatter and rendering him forever deaf. In a split second the Supernova realized that Nami… had jumped him.

​"Hey! Get off witch!"

"No!" "Get off!" "I said no!"

​"Get off now or I'll--"

Her hold around his neck tightened. "Or you'll what?" Nami hissed right in his ear in a tone so dangerously low that an actual chill ran down Zoro's spine. He gave her arm a light slap, a silent gesture to loosen her hold because she was cutting off his air. When she didn't relent, he effortlessly bounced her up his back.

​With a squeak of surprise, her arms slackened and he was able to finally draw in some air.

Nami’s hands grabbed at his shirt in an attempt to prevent herself from slipping from his back. Zoro tried to shake her off him. But the cat burglar swiftly clung onto him by locking her legs around his waist.

His remaining eye widened at that. 

"Nami!"  ​ "Stop trying to shake me off Zoro!" Nami protested as she held on to him tightly. Her knee knocked against his katanas and he scowled. "Then stop strangling me damn it!" "You deserve it you ass! Leaving me alone like that! Wait until the others hear about this you brute!" ​ Zoro muttered an expletive under his breath. Nami is a real witch!

He can feel her sliding down his back again. She was having a hard time clinging onto him because his shirt and her arms and legs were all wet from the rain water.

"I'm charging you for all these Zoro!" She muttered against his ear, her breath hot against his skin… a stark contrast from the cold rain water falling down on them. "The hell you are!" He managed to retort. She was speaking from his blind side and even as he tilted his head, he cannot see her face or her expression.

The next thing he knew… her fist had descended on his head.

“The hell! Why did you hit me?!”

“Because you are a moron.”

“That’s it get off me!”

“No!!”

​They continued struggling against each other, right in the middle of the rain that was soaking them to the bone.

​And Zoro realized then and there that Nami was quite nimble. She had quickly managed to change her position from his back to his side with her legs still locked around him.

He really didn't know what to do with that information, except it's going to be really handy once he gets the chance to...

​​​Fuck! ​​ She had hit him on the head with her fist ​again.​ That’s twice already.  Why are her punches hurting him so much? Was it clad in haki?? "Argh! Nami stop it!" He tilted his head towards her so he can growl and glare at her all at the same time.

She just gave him a haughty serves-you-right grin.

In retaliation he bounced her against him again. 

​Which was a wrong move. Because all it did was rubbed her breasts against him and press her closer to him.

It was a good thing the rain was drowning them.   Though it did made her yelp in surprise. He’s good with that.

​"Argh! Stay still Zoro! I swear if you drop me down I'm going to—"

“To what?” His steely eye met hers. This time it was his turn to challenge her.

Nami’s hold around his neck tightened, probably because her grip on him was slipping again because she was just as wet as he is and also because she still wants to choke the shit out of him for leaving her alone earlier.

She lifted her chin slightly so she could gaze back at him even as the rain water continued trickling down her face.

Was it just him or Nami’s quite comfortable where she is right now?

He knew she was trying to give him the evil eye. But it was hard to do that when the droplets of rain keep clinging to her lashes and she had to blink them away in a manner that affects him greatly.

And there was it… that familiar glint, that spark he saw when they were back in the alcove taking shelter from this rain.

“Look Zoro,” she finally sighed. “I just wanted to make sure you will come back to the Sunny in one piece and not get stranded in this weather."

​Zoro blinked. He was not expecting that.

​Then his face broke into a smirk. "You're getting sappy witch. Sounds like you care about me."

“Y-y-ou!” She stammered.

He grinned at her as she sputtered, her face turn absolutely and adorably red.

To think, he actually high-tailed it out of there earlier with his tail between his legs all because he can't face the realization that he wanted this woman.

But there was no denying it now. Amidst this rain it was very clear. That was all he needed.

He finally decided to take a chance instead of running away from it like a coward. ​

He tucked a strand of her wet hair behind her ear. "You can punch me or charge me later Nami," was all he said before he pressed his lips on hers.

Her body jerked in surprised. His arm instantly wrapped around her waist to secure her as one of her hands grasp at his shirt tightly.

​He swore he heard and felt her murmur 'oh fuck' against his lips before she deepened their kiss.

​They pulled apart slightly for air. Zoro hauled her up a little and Nami was about to lean down to for another kiss…

“A-choo!”

They looked at each other in surprise. Nami’s hand automatically covered her mouth as her face turned red again… this time for a very different reason.

“Ehem!”

They both turn their heads towards the sound and saw an elderly man standing a few feet away from them under an umbrella.

He was shaking his head as he looked at them.

“You youngsters should just get a room you know. You risk getting sick doing things out here in the open that should be done privately.”

[captnjacksparrow]

Hey, really liked your analysis of Hinata. I feel almost the same way about her. Even though generally I dislike female characters who are naturally meek, subservient and pointless with no character arc in any type of media, what made me absolutely hate her character was how she treated Neji. If Kishi wanted to show her arc being developed organically, instead of proposing to Naruto that removes her stuttering and gives her new found confidence (because girls only get confident when proposing to guys 🙄), Kishi could have shown her talking to Neji after he literally told his bitter story on the chuunin exam grounds in front of everyone. She is shown like she is sympathetic but didn't do anything about it. She didn't even talk to him after he was hospitalized. She knew exactly why he was the way he was, and yet she fights him as if it was his fault. She, an heir of the clan, could have asked her father to support Neji, she had some clout. But nope. In fact, it was Neji who apologizes to her in a way, he is the one who trains her and help create a new jutsu for her. What did she ever do for him exactly? And Neji didn't have to help her. She was in the best position to help and understand Neji but what did she do? A lot of fans like her character because she is reserved but kind and sympathetic. She is reserved but a coward. She was not kind towards Neji. He died for her when he didn't deserve to, he had dreams and goals that were much bigger than Hinata's entire existence. She couldn't even see her own cousin's pain and she claims to understand Naruto?? Really??

Even Kishi said she was a pitiful character who only watches from a distance. He deliberately made her that way, no goal, no backbone and no lines. And I think she sucks the most after Danzo.

WoooW!!!! Thanks for the ask, Anon.

[[Hinata and Sakura fans!!!! Please stay away and don't interact. I fucking tagged them properly]].

Even though generally I dislike female characters who are naturally meek, subservient and pointless with no character arc in any type of media, what made me absolutely hate her character was how she treated Neji.

We definitely share the same thoughts on this one, Anon.

I am really tired on most of the media for their poor treatment of female characters.

The last time I was amused by a female character was from 'Game of Thrones', I loved Cersei Lannister, who is an absolute biashhh and Sansa Stark, started out as an annoying rose tinted princess but ended up winning everyone's heart. Both are non-combative, soft spoken and somewhat powerless women in a world dominated by men. But they just didn't let the inconveniences stop them and instead they learned how to fuck that world back and take control. Both are similar and yet very different.

After seeing, such well-developed characters..... For me girls in Naruto series, is blehhhhh..... Nothing to get inspired from them. And I knew it by episode 3 itself. I have no idea how can girls, in real life, treat Sakura as some feminist icon, which makes my skin crawl for number of reasons. If you point her mistakes out in any discussions, they will pull the misogynist card to your face. When in reality, I am also a girl and my world views are entirely different from Sakura or Hinata. There is no way a 12 year old girl would want to look at the Duck of another boy.

And the problem is, They form the majority, I mean people who can connect with Sakura or Hinata. So, as long as girls like them exists, we really should suffer from these crap portrayal I guess.

That's why I advise people that If you want to see a good woman character, Narutoverse is not the place.

Having said that, I find Temari, Konan, Tsunade were better (I mean inside the Narutoverse). Though their motivations or reason to achieve a goal revolve around their men, I find their attitude relieving. Unlike Sakura or Hinata, they don't wet themselves on the sight of the men they love.

What irritates me was, Kishimoto could've easily put a character like Temari or TenTen or Tsunade into Team 7. It would've made my viewing experience a lot better. If he doesn't want the strong girls to take over the attention from his boys, then he should've introduced a meek character like Rin Nohara. She is silent and cute but atleast she was willing to die for the Village and never wetted herself over Kakashi, though she loved him. And she treated Obito like her best friend. But he deliberately made Sakura hateful and he never stopped.

Sakura and Hinata were the lowest of the low, compared to any other side characters. And, in the end, they got the main Character's Ducks without actively doing anything. For me this tells me three things

He was using these girls as a shield to close the hetero normative mouths while in reality hiding those boys true feelings under that shield.

He really hated these kind of girls and constantly showing his hatred on them at every given chance and never redeemed them back. 

He knew the target audience’ mindset and he simply caters them by giving them what they need and at the same time writing the important arcs according to his wish.

I think, it’s the combination of all three. 

Just to give you an example.

There is this delusional SS shipper Who justifies Sasuke was acting Tsundere throughout the war arc. I mean, come on!!!! 

I came across this post because, the Original Poster was an idiot who comes into the anti SS tag and reblogged my content and saying I was wrong... So, I don’t mind sharing that person’s content.

So I don’t know where this delusion comes from... It's truly pathetic.

There are millions of idiots who believe in this kind of shit and Kishi is deliberately feeding them with bits and crumbs while making his boys go out and save the world.

These delusional mindset tells us they don’t give a single shit about the story as a whole. They watch it purely for the pretty faces and getting high over them. In this case, Sasuke.

It’s as clear as day that Sasuke didn’t care about anyone other than Naruto when fighting the war. You don’t have to be a shipper but even a non-shipper can point this out. I mean Sasuke wouldn’t have saved Jugo either, if he didn’t come to Sasuke and advice him. Do you think Sasuke would’ve tried to look for Jugo and saved him at all cost???? It’s just that he came to Sasuke and he helps him back. But Sasuke would’ve saved Naruto from the bomb blast even if he was standing a mile away.

So, if these delusions reflects the mindset of the majority of the women audience, then the creator will never try to give anything better but instead give us some low-life characters like Sakura and Hinata. 

So, Anon, your expectation for Hinata’s character could’ve been developed much better is just a wishful thinking. Because, Hinata is a character for these kind of people and not for us. And the author deliberately did it. 

She was in the best position to help and understand Neji but what did she do? A lot of fans like her character because she is reserved but kind and sympathetic. She is reserved but a coward. She was not kind towards Neji. He died for her when he didn't deserve to, he had dreams and goals that were much bigger than Hinata's entire existence. She couldn't even see her own cousin's pain and she claims to understand Naruto?? Really??

For me, this also irked me a lot. 

Hinata could’ve tried to talk to Neji about his problems even when he was a child. But she was simply playing innocent when in reality, she is just a coward. Even after the Chunin Exams, there was no apologies from her side, like you said. Because she is from the Main Branch. That hierarchy never changed. If she had the gall, she could’ve easily broken that hierarchy by saying, ‘I want Neji Nii-San to take over our Clan, He is the best candidate for this and I can gladly help him with all my efforts’.  A single line and just 2 or 3 panels, it all takes.

For me killing Neji is where Kishi asking us silently, 

Do you really want these pair to happen despite having a blood stain of another character??? 

Most people said, ‘Yes!!!’, because they don’t give two shits about Neji. As long as Hinata gets Naruto, the main character’s Duck, that’s all there is to it. It doesn’t matter who dies, who lives. 

That's why Kishi is shitting on them by making her as a non-existent woman in the Boruto Manga.

Even in real life, there are many hopeless foolish little girls who would do anything for the man she loves. I've seen them and I always stay 2 miles away from them. I mean, they even ditch their own friends and spends her entire time with him and when he dumps her later, she will come back to her friends for consolation. I think Sansa Stark is the best example for this. She started out much similar to Sakura and Hinata, believing in Princes and shit, she even naively betrayed her father for the man she had crush on. But the author made her to learn her lesson in a much painful way and later she came out as a Queen who no longer needed any man at the end. I think, this is called Development.

At the end of the day, Romance and Sex is all that matters. The author knew it. So, he is feeding these girls with some low quality cookies and they are very glad to take and eat it.

[notmrskennedy]

Friendliness

A/N - ha so i just wrote this - no editing we die like men. here’s the alternate ending to my other post Likeability (this one is the more predictable one y’all will probably like whoops) if you’ve read the other one, just skip to the end it’s all the same in the middle 

Summary - The Team meets a very unfriendly scientist which Spencer’s taken a fancy to

W/C - 2.9k (whoops)

Warnings - Mild Anatomy/bones/etc discussion, a pinch and change of swearing

----

Luke is holding his stomach in his hands. He could usually pride himself on keeping his cool, keeping his head—and stomach—together during a case. He’d seen enough dead bodies that this shouldn’t have thrown him like he’d just sailed twelve foot waves in a dingy. 

But he is, after all, standing over a mass grave. Watching a too giddy scientist dig up the bodies. 

You’ve captured everyone’s attention, for various reasons. Rossi is vaguely amused by your joyous shouting of bones and your rat moustached assistant. Luke can’t tear his eyes away from the car wreck—are you supposed to swing bones around like baseball bats? Reid seems more interested in your bad jokes and coveralls than he is in solving the case. 

The rat assistant—Stewart Walsh—squeezes between Luke and Reid, scuttling like some kind of diseased turtle. “Doctor Y/L/N!”

You barely stop pouring over the mud covered pelvis in your hands to even acknowledge him. 

“I just thought you should know that Dr. Evanston just got here.”

You look up, toss the bone to him, and snort. “Tell him the soil samples are four miles due east from here.”

“What’s wrong with Evanston?” Luke asks to no one in particular it seems, waving Stewart off to run for a group of approaching nerds in coveralls. 

Ignoring the question or maybe Luke, you just turn back to your search. Elbow deep in mud, being nice must not have been on the to-do list. Reid leans over, hands in his pockets, and whispers, “Evanston stole one of her research papers. I thought he was going to get his teeth kicked in—“

“Skull!” you holler. Luke isn’t stupid enough to miss the glare reserved for the sheepish Dr. Reid.

He clears his throat. “Thoughts so far, doctor?”

“I’m thinking beetles,” is all you say before turning back to your skull. Luke might not know many scientists, but he doesn’t think that most of them look at human skulls like its the Mona Lisa. Like this fat piece of bone held the answers to the universe inside its empty eye sockets. 

“Beetles?” Luke coughs. Rossi just shakes his head. Pretends this isn’t a conversation he’s having. Reid is still studying you like Luke might study infiltration schematics. Stewart runs up, out of breath, very rose coloured. 

You’re eyes are sparkling as you wade over to them with a new radius bone in your hands. Everyone bends like they know what they’re looking at and you point along the edge of the bone. “It’s a subtle difference but these bones have been cleaned before being buried. My guess is carrion beetles. They’re very hard workers. And—“ you switch to pointing at the radial head— “minute scoring and kerf marks. These look pretty old, so I’m assuming we’re getting close to the bottom.”

“So our unsub dismembered his victims,” Rossi begins, “then cleaned the pieces?”

You nod and hand off the bone to a very blushing Stewart. “I won’t know for sure until I’ve had a chance to examine all the bones. There’s nothing definitive yet. What a hobbyist though, right?”

You chuckle to yourself and dive back into fishing out more finger and wrist bones. Luke turns, runs his hands over his face, and hikes a thumb over his shoulder. “Where did we find her?”

Rossi shrugs, “FBI easter egg hunt.” Luke blinks, while Rossi chuckles at his gullibility. “Come on, the doctor’s the best in the field. Good kid, I can tell.” 

“Y/N’s great,” Spencer absently adds on, too busy staring at you. You’re explaining different types of dismemberment to Stewart like you’re discussing the rain. Luke grips onto his stomach just a little tighter. 

“Y/N, huh?” Luke teases, momentarily forgetting the unsettling feeling in his gut about you. “You two, uh, friends or something?”

It’s Reid’s turn to stumble. “Yeah, but it’s—we’re just—we’re just—.” 

Rossi shakes his head, slaps Reid on the shoulder. “Oh yeah, just friends. So, tell me. Do you talk about dismemberment before or after you make out?”

#

JJ wants to beg Emily not to make her go down into the basement. You’re down there. She knows it’s childish to be this avoidant—you are just a person after all. A creepy, psychopathic weirdo that makes JJ’s gut churn. She gets why Spencer’s taken to you—shared love of science and random trivia. She does. But that doesn’t mean JJ enjoys the cold ass morgue, smiling along as you ramble. Most of everyone’s limited contact with you has involved random facts and Stewart’s too intimate knowledge of fracture patterns. 

There had been ten minutes of reassurance from Emily that you were, in fact, not a horrible person. Ended with JJ making the cold and dark trek down to the morgue. She couldn’t imagine working down here all day long. No one to talk to, no one to strategise with, no where to go. Maybe it suited you. No one would have to listen. 

“—don’t know what to do!” echoes across the bottom of the stairwell, the morgue’s doors cracked open. The distress breaks JJ’s heart. Your voice stops her dead in her tracks.  

“They don’t hate you,” Spencer’s voice comes after. Gentler, softer. “They—they just don’t know you yet.”

“They don’t want to, Spence!” and JJ winces with the words. It always hurt more when the truth came out in that tone. “I get it! You know? I work with human remains and don’t bring my people skills with me when I’m on the job, but—that shouldn’t matter!” 

JJ winces again, tries to ignore how those are nothing short of teary sniffles echoing through her ears. She leans back against the wall and has no idea what to do. Spencer had obviously been down here for hours. Knew you well enough to get the teary truth. What could she do now? Interrupt? 

She’d walked into hostage situations less freakin’ stressful than this. 

“You’re right,” Spencer soothes, steadfast and strong, “it doesn’t matter. This isn’t—“

“It’s not your fault,” you sigh. JJ doesn’t want to hear the strangled touch to your voice. Doesn’t want to hear the break. “They’re your friends and I’m just your—“ 

 “Doctor!” Stewart calls and JJ could scream. You’re his what? 

At least, it’s as good as any moment to intrude. 

“What, Stewart?” you snapped, already broken away from Spencer with wet cheeks and stained glasses. You wipe them off haphazardly with the tail end of Spencer’s sweater sleeve—JJ couldn’t help but smile, even if it’s a little strangled. 

Stewart jumps like a wet cat and tosses a bundle of files into your hands. “Beetles.”

One word snatches the tears from your face. Snatches you away from Spencer’s side for one of the dozen skeletons on the tables. There was no reason to think that she’ll get her report from you now. With a rib bone in one hand and contemplation in your features—JJ can’t decide how unnerved she is—you’re a little too concentrated. 

Stewart scuttles around you. A little too attentive. A little too cherry tinted. Yep. No reports to be had from either of you. JJ turned to Spencer instead, hoping that maybe he’d be helpful. Plastered up like a billboard, JJ knows that saccharine smile isn’t going to get her anywhere. 

“Spence?”

He hums, halfheartedly tearing his eyes away. “Yeah?”

“I need the latest report for Emily, but I don’t think—“

“I’ll—just a second, JJ.” Spencer grins, sugary sweet, and slips away. JJ doesn’t miss how he places a hand on your shoulder as he passes. How you barely even notice that quite intimate contact. She also doesn’t miss how Stewart’s face sours at the action, how his eyes narrow enough that Spencer feasibly should’ve noticed. 

Reports in hand a minute later, JJ leans over to Spencer. Elbows him in the arm. “Stewart seems pretty jealous. Any reason for that?”

Spencer shrugs. “Wouldn’t know a thing about it.”

#

Rossi doesn’t have an opinion. Everyone keeps asking—oh Rossi, you’re the wisest of us all, what should we do about poor little Y/N? He doesn’t know, doesn’t care. You are just some scientist who is doing a thousand percent better job than any other forensics ‘expert’ he’s had the pleasure of working with. 

Your lab doesn’t smell. You don’t smell. Is there anything more to ask for? 

But he does get the brute of having to make the trek down to the morgue—god, his knees alone—and receives most of the reports from the not as horrible as everyone thinks Dr. Y/N Y/L/N. Who is joyfully humming while squinting over one of the skeleton’s hands. 

“Hey, doc,” he calls and you look up at him with an adorable sort of grin. “Got anything new?”

“Sure,” you chirp. Hesitate to wave him over. “If you want the details, that is.”

Rossi shakes his head, pulls up a stool to sit next to you and your subject. “I like to have as much knowledge as I can. You never know what will lead you to your un-sub.”

You settle your elbows on the table, straighten a stray finger bone. The team shouldn’t be worried about you being a psychopath. You’re dedicated, careful, attentive. Rossi hopes that if he ever gets turned into human remains, you’re the one looking over him. There’s been more care put into one skeleton than into his three combined marriages. 

“You’re in luck,” you answer, “I’ve got a lot to tell you about our attacker. You’ve got time, right?”

Rossi nods, smiles. “Plenty.”

#

Penelope still hasn’t met you and that kind of pisses her off. You haven’t made it upstairs once? She flies into some dingy Wyoming hovel of a police station for like a week and no one’s thought to bring you upstairs? Rude. 

She’s sitting in JJ’s desk chair, waiting for her and Luke to get back from interviewing a potential lead—some ex-felon who fit your makeshift profile. Reid’s scouring over some boring geographical profile, trying not to get annoyed as she nervously—angrily—rants about the case to him. She knows he’s tuning her out, but her work’s been put on the back burner until someone comes up with something to give her. 

There’s only so much a computer can find and she’s no profiler. 

It’s about five minutes after Reid snapped and left to get a coffee refill, when she picks up a call from the desk. “Hello?”

Creaking metal and shuddering breathing comes first. “Set the scalpel down” comes second.  She swallows, silent, and panicking. What the heck is she supposed to do? Paying attention to those hostage negotiation seminars that she definitely didn’t go to would’ve come in handy right about now. 

Said scalpel clatters onto some metal table, followed by a strong, “You really don’t want to do this. Please put the gun down.”

Oh god, this is happening. 

“You just—“ a male voice snips, bellowing out, “YOU DON’T LOOK AT ME.”

“I do look at you, Stewart,” you plead just as JJ and Luke clamour through the bullpen’s door. Penelope puts the call on speaker, mutes it, and screams for them. 

“I don’t know what to do,” Penelope sobs professionally, “someone’s got a gun.”

JJ runs for Emily’s office while Reid returns heedlessly. Luke puts a soft hand on Penelope’s cold one and squeezes. Newbie or not, it’s appreciated as the man’s voice returns. “I’ve tried for so long to get you to—to just—just look at me! I’ve done so much!”

“I know, Stewart,” you ease and Reid tenses. Nearly drops his coffee. “It’s not your fault. You’ve worked so hard.”

“Yeah,” Stewart sobs; Penelope can only imagine how crazy this kid must be. 

“Did you leave all those bodies for me, Stewart?” you question and everyone holds their breath. Luke squeezes harder on her hand. Reid’s twitching like a rabbit’s nose, a death grip on his mug, frozen as a Michigan pond. 

Stewart sniffles. Probably nods. Penelope doesn’t know whether to run or sit or cry. She decides it’s probably cry, but instead her fingers start moving to record the call, trace the office origin. 

“It was a great puzzle, Stewart, it was really genius. It was a fun case to follow, you know that.” You swallow hard, metal tinkles through the speaker. Please, Penelope begs, don’t let them kill each other. I haven’t met the doctor yet!

“Why did you kill these girls, Stewart?” your voice is so gentle and lulling Penelope almost forgets that she’s listening to you try to save your own life. 

 “I wanted you to look,” he says, sniffles. “I wanted you. I want you, Y/N. I want you to love me.”

It’s either her computer beeping or someone falling through a table or a gunshot. She doesn’t know. She’s crying too hard to care. 

#

Tara doesn’t know when she started to run—probably just after JJ, Luke, and Reid barrelled passed her by the bathroom shouting about the situation—but she’s almost to the morgue doors, right on Reid’s heels. Lord almighty, she feels so stupid. She’d had enough little one on one chats with Stewart to know he was some sort of psycho in disguise. To know that something was wrong with that kid. No one could last more than three minutes with your grad student assistant without wanting to take an eyeball out—his or theirs it didn’t matter. She’d let herself believe you when you told her that all forensic anthropologists seem like that. That there was nothing to worry about. 

Nothing to worry about her ass. 

Luke’s the first to storm the morgue, expecting what Tara is: you, dead, on the floor with Stewart on the brink of killing himself. But they stop and they stare and Reid beams on with the absurd look on your face. 

You’re shaking with rage, pointing a gun at a very unconscious, crumpled, bleeding Stewart Walsh. Your teeth are bared in what Tara would consider out of a comic book—ludicrous and of someone who’s completely lost their mind. JJ makes the mistake of asking if you’re alright.

“Alright?” you chirp, feral and ravenous. JJ and Luke shrink back as you shout, “I lived in Honduras for three years! This isn’t even the worst thing that’s happened to me. It’s my third fucking kidnapping!”

“T-third?” Luke croaks. 

“Third!” you shout again and recklessly set your gun on the table. Spencer grins, which sets you off further. “I’ve been nice. I’ve been accommodating. But this is my fourth psychotic grad student! I fucking swear—!”

Stewart groans—thank god he’s alive—and Spencer, thankfully, rushes forward to catch you before you can take anything else out on the kid. Tara’s heard rumours about mysterious other instances of your being under arrest. Illegal transportation of goods was one thing, police brutality was another. The scalpel sticking out of his knee is bad enough. 

She helps Luke haul Stewart to his feet, reeking of desperation and a much needed psych eval. JJ follows close behind, closes the morgue doors behind them. But not before they hear your muffled sobs and Spencer’s smiling. 

“You got him, Y/N.”

“No, Spence,” you correct, and Tara can’t help but be proud, “I kicked the snot out of him.”

#

Emily is barely awake when she sees it. JJ’s soft breathing next to her is lulling by itself, let alone if you add in Rossi’s rhythmic snoring and Luke’s idle whispers of sleep talk. Emily could do with some sleep and maybe a few days off. They could all use a few days off, especially after coming to terms with the fact a grad student had killed 12 women just to get a little action. 

From a scientist who freely admitted to enjoying the company of bones over real people. 

Alive people. 

No wonder Stewart had done what he’d done. 

Emily turns in her spot, lays back against the wall of the airplane and the seat. After nearly five decades—she’s never thinking about that again—of plane rides, she can comfortably say she can sleep anywhere. With any amount of noise, or cold, or pain. 

But her eyes are accidentally open when she peaks around the seat cushion. Spies the Wild Dr. Reid in his natural habitat, reading some ridiculously long book and…carding his fingers through your hair? He’s got a lock curled up around his finger, gently twisting it as he reads. You’re sleeping—knocked the fuck out—in his lap, gripping loosely onto his leg. 

You deserve the sleep, Emily decides with a smile. You’d worked the hardest on the case, up for nearly four days with as little rest as you can manage. How Stewart managed to stay awake enough to attack you is beyond Emily. She’s missed out on a few hours just today and she’s losing the battle with her eyelids. 

No one ever asked her opinion of you. Probably didn’t have to. You were not the easiest to like, but you’d captured her respect and a bit of her heart when you’d said at the beginning of the case: “I’m an excavator by trade—I’m at archeological digs most of the time—so it’s hard to wrap my head around the fact that these ladies are murder victims. I don’t think I’ll sleep until I’ve got names for them. And maybe the murderer on my table.”

Emily understood the unease, the apprehension. Why everyone was relieved when you’d turned down the plane ride she’d offered you. How they all bit back groans when Emily had insisted. But they’ll have to get used to it, Emily thinks and she settles again. Because they’ll see you again. No doubt about it. The way you’re wrapped up around Spencer, how you hold tighter when the jet bounces a touch, says just that much anyway. 

[saphirered]

The Lovers

Spoilers for Campaign 2 Ep141

Man oh man oh man. I've had this one written since the day after the last episode but I've been soooooo hesitant to post it at all 🙈. Anyway... I'm just gonna regardless because it's just sitting there staring at me to either delete or post it 🤭. I hope you enjoy because I'm still so conflicted about his piece of writing 😅. Unless people actually like it I might just end up deleting it after all.

---

Jester had asked you to come along on another journey of the Nein Heroez. She needed your expertise for something but couldn’t get across what for within the twenty-five word limit. Regardless, the opportunity to see and travel with your friends is not one you’re just going to pass on so of course you happily made your way to Nicodranas. Maybe the ocean would do you some good. It’s been a while after all.

In the first few days of your journey Jester had been keeping a close eye on you, watching your responses and reactions. Specifically your reactions to any and all interactions with a certain lavender tiefling. When she was certain your responses to the tiefling in question were not in any way negative and cordial if not friendly you found yourself being paired with him more often than not. Watch, hoisting the sails or dropping them, food shifts and even at the helm a few times.

You caught an argument between Fjord and Jester a few weeks later. Fjord was defending you and telling Jester she couldn’t just play matchmaker after everything that had happened between the previous inhabiter of Kingsley’s body and you and how it might still be a painful subject of not once but twice being faced with someone that’s not the person you loved and lost.

Jester seeing reason in Fjord’s arguments put aside the love story she’d been trying to unfold with you and the poor tiefling as her main characters. The shifts you shared with Kingsley came to a close and would be no more often than any shifts shared with anyone else on the crew.

One day the Nein Heroez made port to stock up on some supplies after being hit by a storm and running short on food. The crew was given some downtime to enjoy the many pleasures port has to offer but you decided to stay back at the ship. You asked Jester for the cards.

You’re sitting crosslegged on the docks watching the sunset as the crew leaves in groups bidding you goodbye while they go. Once the majority of them have left you take out the cards and begin laying them in certain patterns starting with simple ‘yes/no’s onto the past present future and more complicated readings. You’re not paying attention to any particular results but instead study the drawings fondly.

“You’d call me a sentimental fool.” You snicker as the fool card is revealed in front of you.

“Sentimental? Yes. A fool? I’ve yet to decide.” You turn around at the familiar voice seeing the tails of the black sleeveless coat you’ve grown accustomed to seeing around. You pick up the cards and put them back in their order stacking them.

“Oh really? You’d think a few weeks of being not so inconspicuously paired together on any task possible would give you enough time to form an opinion on that?” You tease beginning a new read.

“Maybe that makes me the fool then.” You can almost hear the smirk in his words.

“Care to find out?” You put down card by card face down. You know how to push for certain results. A trick you’d picked up from your former lover. It feels right to use it against him in a strange twisted way like this. Not really him but close enough.

Kingsley sits down to the side, not trusting you to not push him off the docks if he were to make an offensive (in jest of course) remark. Gathering the cards back up you start over. Time for a bit of fun. You push for the first card setting it down face up in front of him.

“The owl and the bear. Some might say the most deadly combination when put together. Be watchful of the owl’s words or you might find yourself at the ends of the bear’s claws.”

“So it was a good idea to sit on this side and avoid meeting my waterlogged demise.”

“Are you doubting my capabilities, Kingsley?” You smirk and watch the tiefling gulp. You move on to the next card making a show of pulling it from the deck and displaying it.

“Look at that! What did I say. The fool has appeared. The cards have spoken. my fool.” You take a bow as if addressing the most pretentious royalty around limited only by your crosslegged position on the docks. Kingsley can’t help but let out a chuckle at your theatrics.

“The cards have spoken indeed! A fool I must be.” He plays along. You begin picking up the two cards and restack the deck.

“Hey hey hey, isn’t there supposed to be three cards for this one? Not two?” You stop. He’s not wrong technically. You raise an eyebrow at him, fan out the cards and allow him to pull one from the deck as per the variant of this reading, putting the fate in the hands of the drawer. Not really of course. Usually you’d still be able to push for a card for them to draw but for this one you’d leave it up to the divines. You’ve had your fun.

And fun it was until Kingsley kept the card for himself, studying it closely. You were curious to see which one he pulled but you hadn’t exactly paid attention to that like you’d otherwise done. You wait for him to either give it back or tell you what it is but he takes a long time.

“So what is it?” You ask, your curiosity getting the better of you. It still takes a good few seconds before he lowers the card so you can see it too.

“Oh.” Is all you manage to vocalise upon seeing the card. The Lovers. The familiar drawing of a lavender tiefling looking at another figure arm outstretched and love in their eyes. The image of the tiefling reaches for the outstretched hand of the other figure; your figure. You’re staring back at your own face and the expression Mollymauk had claimed to have plenty of visual references for to know he could properly draw you but would always ask for one more just to remind him.

“I’m so sorry.” Kingsley hands the card back to you and you keep staring at it. He stays for a little bit to make sure you’re alright as you’re hit with a whirlwind of emotions. Once he’s sure you’re alright he begins to get up.

“I’ll leave you to the rest of your evening. Someone’s gotta make sure these fools drink just enough and start a brawl or two.” You snap out of it putting the card back into the deck.

“Kingsley. It’s alright. You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” The whirlwind subsides and you return back to a peaceful state of mind. You offer the tiefling a kind smile and he halts himself sitting back down still somewhat tense. He opens his mouth to say something but is quick to close it again. There’s a moment of silence between the two of you as you shuffle the cards absentmindedly. You catch onto the conflict and hesitation in Kingsley’s features.

“If there’s something you wish to say please do say it.”

“When you said you loved him… I think it never registered it was anything other than the love the others held for him. Strongly yes but I always assumed it was akin to Yasha’s. Why didn’t you say anything?” Kingsley states piecing things together watching you closely.

“It’s not a burden for you to bear.” You pull the Lovers card back up to the top and study it closely.

“I might not know much but I don’t think being faced with your dead lover’s body inhabited by someone not him doesn’t bother anyone. That’s just cruel.”

“It doesn’t bother me. Not anymore. I’ve grieved Molly when he died. I grieved him again when Lucien returned. I’ve gone through it all and accepted he’s not coming back and that’s okay. Everything comes to an end at some point. I don’t think it’s cruelty. I think everything is as it should be.” You speak honestly stroking your thumb over the card.

“I have so many questions.” Kingsley states. You get it. He woke up one day, recovering from death not knowing who he is or was before that moment beyond emotions and flashes of a past that didn’t feel like his. That’s exactly why you wanted to spare him another previous relation to figure out. Yes it might make things slightly more difficult for you but that’s not his fault. That’s no one’s fault.

“And I believe Beau gave you her notebook so you can read back about your predecessors. But you’re not ready for that yet, are you? That’s okay. Don’t read it until you feel ready.” Kingsley’s head shoots up to look at you. Why do you understand him? Maybe you’re wiser than he gives you credit for but he thinks you’re already pretty wise.

“Expectations. Everyone expected something of me but I didn’t live up to it. I’m not who he used to be and that disappoints people. But from you, you never expected anything from me. Why?” He’s piecing it together bit by bit. You never slipped up. Never asked him to put on a coat that wasn’t his or asked him if he remembered something. You never even asked him if he recalled anything about you or sought to involve yourself in his life without his permission.

“It’s unfair to expect someone to be or become someone they’re not and never will be. You get to be your own person free of the constraints of the past.” The answer is simple. There’s no deceit or doubt. No hidden message or intent behind it.

“How is it you of all people can say that without pain or regret or wishing it were different?” You turn the card back around and put it back in the deck in its place and put the cards away. You take a second before answering trying to formulate a proper answer as Kingsley waits studying every micro expression.

“Bear with me for this one.” You start and he nods. “Lucien was born lonely forced to fend for himself and make friends out of the need to survive. Molly rose from a grave alone and scared. He was taken in by friends but he had to find a home his home with them. He found that home and got kindness and love. You awoke surrounded by friends, no family you didn’t even know but would still love you regardless. No matter what, you’d always have a home with them. You’d be neither alone nor lonely unless you choose to be.” You explain and take breath before you continue.

“You plant random seeds in the ground it’s very unlikely you’re going to receive the same flower twice. The only similarity they have is that they are seeds and will grow as long as they have the right foundations to do so. When I look upon you I see Kingsley Tealeaf, a man that became a sailor after we brought him back from the Astral Sea. There may be similarities, your roots may even be the same but you are not the same. You are separate.”

Kingsley takes in your words very carefully with a sense of understanding and something with in him he couldn't quite pinpoint until now. Acceptance and content. Whatever might have been holding him back before, he’ll have to come to terms with that. That’s the past and if the past comes searching for him one day, so be it. Until then, Kingsley Tealeaf has a life of his own to live and to enjoy. Enjoy all life has to offer, to its fullest and don’t hold back.

Let the sailor become captain of his own ship knowing he has a home and a family that will welcome him with open arms to return to. Let the eight be nine despite the expectations of others. Be free and be happy. Live content.

[starshine583]

New Girl on the Block (9)

(Happy New Years everybody!!! I know that was two days ago, but still! I hope all of you are doing well, and please enjoy this new chapter! also feel free to check out the mini series connected to this called Journal Entries!)

Ch.1 / Ch.8 / Ch.10

Chapter 9: Let’s Try That Again

“Claude, I’m not sure about this..” Marinette remarked, tentatively leaning over the brunette’s shoulder.

Claude waved off her concerns as he grabbed for the various chemicals on their shared desk. “Don’t worry! There’s no way I can mess this up twice.”

Marinette frowned. “Twice?”

He nodded and pulled out a plastic bag that they’d been given to hold the chemicals. “I took this class last year too, but I only got halfway through before they transferred me for being too disruptive.”

Marinette pulled her lip between her teeth, her concerns growing by the second. “Define ‘disruptive’.”

“Oh, you know,” Claude shrugged, carelessly throwing the chemicals into the plastic bag, “You try to listen as best you can, but there are so many chemicals to look at! It’s hard to pay attention. Anyway, one spill ends up in a gas explosion, and another shaking-instead-of-stirring ends up in acid all over the beaker and the desk, and after a while, Mlle Arquette decided that I might be able to pay more attention in Chemistry next year.”

“A-A gas explosion?” Marinette squeaked. She knew Claude could be chaotic from time to time, but she had hoped that his antics in the classroom wouldn’t range anywhere beyond ‘classic class clown’. 

“Yeah, but it wasn’t toxic,” Claude insisted, “Just thick. Besides, we have this lab gear to protect us! We’re fine.”

Marinette clutched the sides of her lab coat. Sure, they had lab gear, but exactly how much could it protect them?

“Claude-”

“Alright, it’s shaking time!” Claude announced. He held up the now-sealed bag with a grin and started shaking it as hard as he could. Marinette flinched back, covering her face despite already wearing goggles. She had a bad feeling about this.

The phenol red inside the bag quickly mixed in with the Sodium Bicarbonate and Calcium Chloride, but he didn’t stop shaking until the plastic bag was almost completely red. By that time, the chemicals had merged into a deep red color, and the plastic bag had inflated to its maximum capacity.

“Hey, check it out!” Claude said, holding up the bag. “It looks like it's starting to bubble up.”

Marinette peaked between her fingers, though she still couldn’t see what he was talking about from her angle. She did, however, notice that the bag looked like it was about to explode any second.

“Um, Claude?” She began cautiously. “I think you’re supposed to let some of the air out now.”

“Oh, yeah.” He pulled the bag back down, getting ready to pull it open. “I almost forgot about that.”

Marinette gasped and stepped forward. “Wait, you need to be care-”

The bag popped open, and the poor pair weren’t able to react as fast as the chemicals inside. Everything shot up within a matter of seconds, splattering chemicals all over the desk and the students. Thankfully, it didn’t burn, but Marinette deeply lamented the fact that they were only in third period. Was she supposed to go through the rest of the day as a mess?

“Claude Herolds!”

Marinette and Claude’s gazes snapped upwards to their Chemistry teacher, Mlle Arquette. She fixed them both with an equally cross and tired glare.

“How many times do I have to tell you to open the bag slowly?” 

Claude offered a sheepish smile. “Sorry, Mlle Arquette.. Would it help if I told you that it kind of popped open on its own?”

The teacher narrowed her eyes. “No, it most certainly would not. Because that means you didn’t mix it correctly, and the amount of chemicals on your clothing suggests that you put too much into the bag!”

“...I couldn’t remember which measuring spoons to use for the chemicals..” Claude admitted, reaching up to rub his upper arm.

Mlle Arquette sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “That’s why I gave you a list of instructions. Didn’t you read them?”

Marinette and Claude both tensed. In the heat of the moment, they may or may not have forgotten that they were given specific instructions on what to do. Well, Marinette remembered. It was just that Claude seemed so sure of himself that she forgot to check the instructions. 

The teacher took their silence as an answer and shook her head. “Claude, I don’t know how to get it through your head that you need to do what you’re told. So for now, I’ll give you detention and hope the extra time has you put more value on focus.”

Marinette’s eyes widened. “D-Detention?”

She’d never gotten detention before, not at Rosemary anyway. Was it different from Dupont? Would it knock down her grades? Would she have to do extra homework on top of it?

“Not you, Marinette.” The teacher assured. “I’m letting you off with a warning since this is your first incident.”

Marinette blew out a sigh of relief, but Claude groaned.

“Awe, man! I’m gonna be in detention all by myself?”

Marinette gasped. “You want me to be in detention?”

“Oh, no!” Claude hastily amended. “No, it’s just so boring being in there by myself.”

“Maybe the lack of company will give you incentive to be more cautious during our next class session.” Mlle Arquette cut in. “Now use the sink to wash up.”

Marinette and Claude moved to the front of the classroom as told and took turns using the sink. Unfortunately, Phenol Red is not known for coming out easily. They used as much soap as possible, but their lab coats remained stained, along with their cheeks..

“Well,” Claude said as they walked back to their desk, “since our cheeks are stained anyway.. Wanna try again?”

Marinette pursed her lips. At the very least, it couldn’t get any worse, right?

“Okay, but this time I’ll mix the chemicals.”

“Deal!”

~~~~~~

Felix blinked, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. When he went to get Marinette for their next shared class, he expected her to be the same way she was when he’d left her earlier that morning. What he found instead, however, was a couple of classmates that had both their hands and the lower halves of their faces covered in red, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to ask why.

“Hey, Felix!” Claude greeted casually, as though he and Marinette didn’t look like walking tomatoes. “You look a little surprised. Is it my new haircut?”

“Oh, you got a new haircut?” Marinette asked, genuinely curious.

The brunette nodded and reached up to touch the curled tips of his bangs. “Yeah, but I didn’t do much. They just trimmed me up.”

“I thought something looked different.” Marinette hummed. “It looks nice.”

“Why, thank you.”

“If you don’t mind my asking,” Felix finally cut in, “why, exactly, are you two covered in red?”

Claude pulled a sheepish smile, and Marinette chuckled nervously, neither of which gave Felix any clarity.

“I kind of.. made some chemicals explode again.” Claude admitted.

Felix’s eyes widened. “You what?”

“Okay, not really explode.” Claude said. “They more of splattered everywhere.”

Felix’s gaze darted to Marinette, briefly scanning over her figure for injuries. She didn’t appear to be in pain, but that didn’t necessarily mean she wasn’t. What type of chemicals did they use? Were they toxic? Was anything ingested? The red on their faces didn’t look like burn marks.

“We’re fine.” Marinette assured, noticing his concern. “Mlle Arquette had us wash off right after it happened, so the only thing that affected us was the Phenol Red.”

Felix sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Phenol Red? No wonder their skin was dyed. “And what was Mlle Arquette's reaction to this?”

“Oh, she gave me detention,” Claude said point blank, “but I don’t blame her. I know I can be a bit much.”

Felix rose a brow. “Just you?”

The two nodded.

“She let me off with a warning.” Marinette explained.

Felix hummed. That sounded like Mlle Arquette. When he had to be Claude’s partner for Chemistry last year, the teacher had been extremely understanding then too. In hindsight, he probably should have warned Marinette about Claude’s tendencies in class. “Well, at least she was reasonable enough to know you weren’t at fault.”

Claude scoffed and crossed his arms. “You weren’t even there! How do you know she didn’t give me the wrong instructions?”

“Call it a hunch.” Felix replied flatly. He pulled a handkerchief out of his vest pocket and handed it to Marinette. “Here, use this to wipe off the chemicals.”

“Oh, no thank you.” Marinette politely declined. “I already washed it off as best I could.”

“Yes, but have you tried using a cloth yet?” He asked. When she shook her head, he continued, “Then some might still be able to come off. Rosemary holds their student’s presentability in high regard. I’d recommend trying.”

Marinette held up a hand insistently. “Thanks, but I really don’t need it. The dye’s already settled by now anyway, and I don’t want it to ruin your handkerchief if I get more off.”

Felix shrugged, tucking the handkerchief back into its respective pocket. “Mother’s gotten rid of worse, but I won’t force you.”

“I could use a handkerchief.” Claude spoke up.

Felix rolled his eyes. “Find your own.”

“But you were going to let Marinette use it!” Claude remarked, a grin growing on his lips despite his accusatory tone.

“She didn’t make the mess, did she?” Felix shot back.

Claude waved a hand at the remark. “Yeah, yeah. I can see how far our friendship goes.”

Marinette giggled, drawing the boys’ attention back to the ravenette.

“As fun as this is, I need to stop by the lockers before class.” She said with a smile. “I’ll see you guys later.”

“I’ll walk with you.” Felix replied, stepping forward. “I need to switch out a few books as well.”

“As if you wouldn’t walk her anyway..” Claude muttered under his breath behind him.

Felix glanced over his shoulder at the brunette. “What was that?”

“What was what?” Marinette asked, turning back as well.

“Oh, nothing.” Claude said, averting his gaze with a slight smile. “I’m gonna head to my next class too. See you guys later!”

Felix narrowed his eyes. He’d heard what Claude said. He just didn’t understand it. Or rather, he didn’t understand the tone. Felix walking Marinette to her classes was common knowledge at that point, yet Claude stated it as though it were some sort of secret. Why? It’s not as though the others didn’t walk her to classes as well. Claude himself would fight over whether he got to drive Marinette to different locations or not.

The class bell shook him from his thoughts, along with Marinette’s light call, and Felix moved to follow behind her. As they walked, she rambled on about the full story behind her red-colored cheeks, which allowed Felix to push Claude’s strange comment to the back of his mind. There was no reason for the brunette to have a hidden meaning in his speech anyway. So there was no point in overthinking it.

~~~~~~

Ah. The Cafe de Flore. Claude’s favorite place to eat. It had the best sandwiches, delicious pastries- tough not at good as Mlle Sabine’s -and wonderful, customer service. He’d always received a welcoming smile when he visited. 

He drew in a deep breath, relishing in the smell of chocolate and dough that wafted through the air. It made his mouth water and his stomach growl with anticipation. His food should be ready any minute now, and he could hardly wait.

A giggle brought his attention to the line behind him. Marinette was shuffled in with a few of the other customers, happily chatting with Felix, who’d gotten in line with her. 

Claude narrowed his eyes at the blond, remembering their talk at the aquarium. He’d been so insistent that he had no idea what Claude was referring to, but he wasn’t fooling anyone. Felix never took the time to talk to people, never listened or sympathized or smiled the way he did with Marinette. Every action, every sentence, everything he did around her screamed that he liked her. Normally, Claude wouldn’t care, since everybody had one good friend, but Felix didn’t like anybody. Heck, they’d been with him for three years, and he still fought tooth and nail before he agreed to do anything with them. But the one time Marinette, the person he's only known for three weeks, decides to ask him to something, he agrees immediately. No fuss. No arguing. Nothing. His crush on her was so obvious that when he played dumb last weekend, Claude nearly tore his hair out in frustration. How stupid did Felix think they were?

“I’ve got a BLT for a Claude Herolds?” 

At the waitress’ call, Claude whirled around to grab his food with a ‘thank you’. He then moved back through the other customers to get to the group table, where Allegra and Allan were already seated. Marinette flashed him a smile and said ‘hey’ while he passed, but Felix merely rolled his eyes at Claude’s presence. 

Of course, that didn’t stop the blond from turning right back to Marinette, all traces of annoyance washing away in an instant.

Yeah, he definitely had a crush on her. 

“Tell me you’ve noticed.” Claude said to Allegra as he plopped down in the seat next to her. He couldn’t keep this to himself any longer, or he was going to explode like those chemicals in Chemistry class this morning. 

Allegra glanced up from her soup questioningly. “Noticed what?”

Claude scoffed. As if she didn’t already know. Allegra was twice as observant as he was. If he saw something interesting, she was bound to have already seen it at least ten minutes beforehand. 

“What else?” He replied impatiently. “Felix’s crush on Marinette.”

Allegra and Allan both gasped and shot up from the table, slapping their hands onto Claude’s mouth.

“Are you crazy?” She hissed at him. “Why would you say that out loud? What if they’d heard you?”

Claude pushed their hands away. “What does it matter? We all know.”

“Yeah, but they don’t.” Allan pointed out. “Even if they did, you can’t just say stuff like that without permission.”

Claude furrowed his eyebrows. “You expect me to believe that Felix doesn’t know about his own feelings towards Marinette?”

He could understand Marinette being oblivious. She hasn’t known Felix as long as they have, hasn’t heard the snide remarks and snaps and sarcastic comments that used to shoot from Felix’s mouth on a regular basis, hasn’t seen the constant glares they used to receive. (Emphasis on used to. They still get looks and snarky replies, but it's not nearly as venomous as it was before Marinette showed up.)

Claude didn’t blame Felix for liking Marinette- there was no doubt about her being a literal saint -but to say that Felix had no idea that he liked her was insane.

Allegra shrugged. “I wouldn’t be surprised. Felix clearly hasn’t had a crush before, and he’s extremely logical. He probably just thinks that she’s more fun to be around than we are.”

Claude tisked and crossed his arms. “He would think that, wouldn’t he?”

“To be fair, she doesn’t push his buttons as much as we do.” Allan commented.

“..Yeah, that’s true.” Claude admitted, a small smile coming to his lips. “She doesn’t push anyone’s buttons. She’s great like that.”

Allegra nodded in agreement. “Which is why we should try to figure out if she likes him too.”

Claude’s eyes widened. He.. hadn’t thought of that. How did Marinette feel about Felix? 

As if on queue, all three of them subtly turned to glance at the pair. They were at the front of the line now, helping each other pick their food. Felix held another small smile, causing Claude to grip the edge of his chair with slight scowl. Love can do strange things to a person, but after three years of friendship, one would think that Felix could be a tad nicer to them too.

Marinette smiled brightly up at the blond as she always did. She seemed to enjoy talking with him, but then again, she enjoyed talking to everyone. That could hardly be considered a sign of love or affection. The only thing that might be related to a crush was that time in the library when the two shared headphones. She got all flustered and embarrassed after getting really close to Felix, but in all honesty, Marinette tended to blush rather often. When embarrassed, when bashful, when caught off guard- It was just another quirky thing about her that they all loved.

“We wouldn’t want to force this on her.” Allan said, taking the words from Claude and Allegra’s mouths. Marinette was too kind and sweet to be put in such an uncomfortable position. 

“So how do we find out? Should we ask her?” Claude questioned, twisting back to face the table again.

“Yes, but we need to be subtle.” Allegra cautioned. “Crushes can be a sticky business, especially when someone isn’t quite aware of their feelings towards another.”

“In other words, Felix can’t know we asked,” Allan added, “and Marinette can’t know about Felix’s feelings. At least not until he knows that he has them, and we know that they’re requited.”

Claude nodded thoughtfully. “That still doesn’t tell me how we’re going to ask her.”

“Ask who what?” 

The trio jumped at the sound of Marinette’s voice, each snapping to look at her for a reaction. She couldn’t have been there long, right? How much had she heard? Where was Felix?

“Uh..” Claude gaped. “N-Nothing. I mean, we were-”

“We were going to ask my mom about a sleepover.” Allegra cut in. “Do you think you’d be up for it?”

Claude couldn’t help the smirk that curled onto his lips. Clever Allegra. Having a sleepover meant everyone would get together, but it also meant the boys and girls would be separated by the end of the evening. That would leave Marinette and Allegra alone for a good eight hours if they played their cards right. Plenty of time to ask about Marinette’s feelings towards Felix, and plenty of time to ask Felix about his feelings towards Marinette.

Clever, clever Allegra.

“Oh, a sleepover?” Marinette echoed, a spark of interest gathering in her eyes. “At your house?”

“Yeah!” Allegra smiled. “We’ve all been to your house. I want you to come to mine.”

Marinette returned her smile, but before she could respond, Felix spoke up behind her.

“You’re having another sleepover?”

Marinette flinched, just as Claude and the others had done moments prior, and Felix took a step back as a silent apology.

What a considerate thing to do, Claude thought. If only Felix were that considerate towards literally anyone else.

His bitter thoughts were pushed aside when Allegra nestled her chin in her palm, saying, “Don’t act like I have a sleepover every other day. Our last sleepover was on New Years Eve.”

“Yes, and that sleepover is exactly the reason why I won’t be attending another one.” Felix stated with a scowl. “That permanent marker didn’t come off of my face for a week.”

Claude stifled a laugh. That mustache and monocle drawing had easily been the best part of the evening.

Marinette full-on giggled at the remark and sat down in the chair between Claude and Allan, amusement and curiosity seeping through her tone as she asked, “You guys drew on his face?”

Felix’s scowl deepened- he hated being called out on embarrassing things -and his gaze shifted to the side. “While I slept. It was absolutely dreadful.” 

“Oh~ it was a joke.” Allegra cooed, waving off his bitterness. “You know you want to come.”

“Why would I?” Felix scoffed as he sat between Allegra and Allan. “The hours I’m forced to spend with you on a daily basis are torture enough.”

Claude smirked. Bold words for someone who was crushing hard on the newest member of their group.

“Because deep down in that cold, shriveled heart of yours, you know you love us.” He said, subtly wrapping an arm around Marinette’s shoulders as he said ‘us’. “Besides, we’re all going to be there. You don’t want to miss out, do you?”

Felix shot Claude daggers, but Claude only gave an innocent smile in response. He knew that he had the blond cornered. Marinette would be expecting him to go to the sleepover, the same way she’d expected him to go to the aquarium. Felix said yes to her then, and he would say yes to her now. Because he liked her.

Slowly, Felix’s gaze slid to Marinette, the spite in his eyes fading away as he glanced at her. Claude’s smile widened. He was thinking it over, contemplating whether it would be worth it to ‘suffer’ an extra night with them or not for Marinette’s sake. 

This was the moment. This was the moment where Felix’s true motives would be revealed, even though he was doing his best to hide them from everyone else, including himself.

“Fine.” The blond relented, just like Claude knew he would. “But I better not wake up with marker on my face again.”

Allan smirked. “Don’t worry, man. We promise there won’t be any markers for you this time.”

“Nope.” Claude Grinned. “Just some quality time between friends.”

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[xo-cuteplosion-xo]

(Chuuya x Reader)

I’m back! (At least for now. Things calmed down at home. I’m actually writing this using my poor mobile hot-spot while driving 18 hours back home from looking at houses down south.)

Enjoy some comforting fluff with Chuuya.

(once again, excuse my messy style of second and third swap)

Words: 1045

(kinda fluff)

Breaking apart (Chuuya x Reader)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nights had been dark, lonely, sometimes cruel before meeting him. Their life had swayed without much excitement. Other than the crimson which stained the floor they walked upon, they lay without much. Beds of thorns and roses dyed red and black, strong enough to make a notable rank. There was nothing more they had needed. Within their walls they shed no mercy, no tears or remorse to spread along with the victims. A demon, one worthy of another demon's attention. There were always eyes watching their every move. A heartless monster, a name, a taunt, tender ears were used to hearing such things.

What if… what if, beneath the layers of stone, laid an ocean full of life? Emotions swimming like fish along the ocean of one's mind? There is no human being who is born without feelings. It is something one learns. Pain, it’s a funny word. What defines it? Does it have to be something physical or can it be something that is purely mental? Are you weak to feel pain? Who are you if you lock away feelings to hide yourself? Who are you if you wear any mask needed to fit in? That is the question they think in their restless nightmares.

Some people break away from the outer shells. The glass walls that are easily penetrated, the cement walls, and finally the ball of harsh rock that keeps hold of your heart. Nobody had ever seen that layer crack, nobody had seen the ocean the dam held back.

Nobody before tonight that is.

Trust had been betrayed.

The one you loved sat broken, maybe just as broken as you.

The moon's light filtered in through the glass panes of the penthouse windows. White light bounced off the marble and onto chandeliers, sending light shattering along the walls and floors. The open windows provided the howling wind room to whisper through. The rain outside pelted against the roof. A comforting sound to the silence. Your coat draped to the floor sticking to your skin. Not a single emotion played out on your face as you looked straight ahead. Waiting in the corridor stood the petit mafioso. Or as you called the feared Chuuya Nakahara, your dearest love. He hid his pain well, beneath the scowl that rested on his face.

The news had only reached you but it seemed he’d known for a while now. No words were exchanged between the two of you. His hands grabbed the name-brand leather he’d bought you. At 18, he was doing well, not too rich, but he had enough to provide luxury living for the two of you. He dragged the coat to the laundry room, it would probably be stained when it dried, but he didn’t care. His hands only wanted to pull you close.

He’d already had his drunken fest, but he didn’t know what you would be like tonight. Once it was confirmed and your optimistic hopes Dazai hadn’t defected were shattered, he didn’t know what you felt. He never did, and at times, it terrified him. This was one of those moments where it terrified him. Your silence killed him, but he had not the confidence to break the still silence. He pulled your chair for you, poured a glass of his most expensive wine, then took his seat next to you.

Their fingers glazed around the trim, their hands gloved in silk. A shuttered sigh escaped their lips as they began to shatter the silence. “Tonight, we celebrate,” they smiled, forced and cracking. Chuuya could only nod and raise his glass to meet theirs. When he looked at them his eyes fell bare into theirs.

He was shocked to find them full of emotions. Your glass was shaking within your hand. Before you could help it, glass met your lips. You swung your head back and downed the sweetly red delicacy. You placed it back on the counter before gasping for air. Holding everything in as best you could. Embarrassment flowed through your veins.

As a child, you had been taught the harsh realities of the world. Emotions were easily taken advantage of. Kindness did not exist, at least not without coming back with a price. There may be one or two people who will never expect anything in return but it’s against human nature.

Everybody has a point that they can’t get past. This was yours. You had opened up the gates to the real you. The masks had fallen one by one until you felt like yourself. Around the two males, you were happy for once. You felt safe and protected. You were never vulnerable in their eyes. Yet, Dazai had destroyed all of that. There was only Chuuya now. “I’m sorry, I look like an idiot. I'm so sorry, Chuuya. Just... I'll be right back.”

Attempting to stand up you were tugged back down onto the chair. Chuuya tugged you around. His hands moved to your face. His hands, ungloved, cupped your cheeks. His thumbs ran over your tears as a smile placed over his lips. “Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault anyway. That waste of bandages, and space, is to blame. The next time I see him… I'll hit him hard enough to send him into the death he wishes for.” You chuckled lightly with his words. Nobody had seen you like this before.

Chuuya stared at them, for a while he stood holding their face with confusion. His eyes reflected their emotions like silent water. He watched them lean into his touch, waiting for them to dip their head onto his chest. “It’s not fair, Chuuya. Why? Why did he leave as if we were all just nothing?” The roughness of their voice added bricks to his already heavy chest. He had no response or reason, there was only a soft sigh from his lips as he held them.

When the moon started to fall and the sun climbed into the sky your eyes finally dried. Chuuya didn’t move, his body holding you as he kept his chin on your head, “I love you.” He whispered the words running a hand over your back.

“I love you too.” It was a soft mumble from your lips, words spoken from the edge of sleep.

[adventuresinwonderlust]

Title: More than Words

Pairing: Idol! yoongi x reader

Warnings: smut, fluff, angst, thigh riding, dirty talk

Rating: 18 and over

Permanent Tag List: @heyimtavia​ @mochilicious-yoongi​

Y/N:

You were hustling to get to his studio before 12pm, knowing damn well once 12pm hit, you wouldn’t be able to grab his attention. You rush up the hall, iced americano in hand, and bang your knuckles onto the door of his studio.

*Silence*

You pace back and forth from one leg to the other waiting for him to answer the door. Impatient, you knock again. The door swings open and before you stands your boyfriend Min Yoongi. “Hi!” You smile excitedly, handing over the coffee you purchased for him. He smiles wide at you, grabbing the coffee with one hand and pulling you towards him with the other hand. He hugs you tightly, kissing your cheek and breathing you in. “Thank you so much jagi.” “You’re welcome. I wanted to give you some fuel for your day. I'm excited to spend the evening with you.” You explain stepping back to adjust your purse on your shoulder. “Uh, yeah, about that.” He winces and you feel your heart drops knowing what’s coming next. You swallow back the lump in your throat, clearing it completely. “Jagi, I completely forgot, and I told the members we could record the new track tonight. I’m so sorry, please don’t be upset. I know this is a surprise.” You felt the anger sear up inside you. How could he forget? You knew he was busy, but this was too much. “No, I’m not surprised. This is just how you are Yoongi, my busy bee. Honestly, I'd be surprised if we actually hung out tonight. Please, don’t worry about it. We can catch up another night. Have a great recording session.” You give a tight smile, blowing a kiss to him before sauntering off, leaving him standing at the studio door.

Yoongi:

He couldn’t move. He just stood there watching her walk off. His heart thumping in his chest. Her words echoing in his head. ‘Honestly, I'd be surprised if we actually hung out tonight.’ He couldn’t lose her, not when she was the best thing to ever happen to him. He was so in love with her, how could he be so stupid and allow his work to come in the way of his relationship. He growled under his breath, pulling out his phone. “Namjoon-ah, I can't record tonight. I have to take care of some other things tonight. Let’s reschedule for next week.” He hangs up and immediately makes another phone call. “Hi yes, It’s Min Yoongi. I need a favor.” Yoongi smiles sneakily, biting his lip.

Y/N:

You stand sulking in front of the microwave, listening to the kernels of your popcorn settle, ready to take it out before it burns. Just as you are about to yank the door open to your microwave, you startle at the sound of your doorbell ringing, huffing at how silly you are for getting such a fright. You walk over to the door, pressing your ear to it. “Who is it?” “Courier, special delivery, signature needed.” “You have the wrong address. I’m not expecting a delivery.” “Is this Miss Y/F/N Y/L/N?” “Yes.” You almost whisper. “Uh, Ma’am, please I have a lot more drop offs tonight, and this requires a signature or else I can't leave.” Your brow furrows at what it could possibly be that’s so urgent. You open the door slightly, eyeing the courier suspiciously. “Sign here please.” He hands you clipboard. You sign it, handing it back, and he then hands you a black gift box tied with silver ribbon. “Who is this from?” “I just deliver the packages ma’am but whoever it's from, they must really like you cause these deliveries are not cheap. Have a great night.”

You make your way back into your apartment and plop down onto your couch. You pull open the ribbon and lift the lid of the box to reveal a small white card atop white tissue paper. You lift the card out of the box and read the small cursive text.

‘Meet me at the Rooftop Del Mar and wear this. A car will be by in one hour. Xo Y.’

You pull the tissue paper from the box to reveal a black drape neck mini dress. Your mouth falls open as you feel the soft material and you run to jump into the shower. You are dressed and done up in under the hour time limit. You head downstairs and are greeted by a driver who is holding a tablet with your name on it. “I’m Y/N.” You say and the driver opens the back passenger door for you. You take a seat and attempt to call Yoongi but it goes straight to voice-mail.

You are at the restaurant in no time and soon the driver is opening the door and helping you to exit. “Welcome,” A male host greets you upon entrance into the restaurant, “Please follow me. You are our guest of honor.” You can’t help but blush, unsure of what’s going on. Your head is hazy and the feeling of butterflies fluttering in your tummy has you a bit queasy. You are escorted up to the rooftop, the elevator opening to an extravagantly set up dining area. There are no tables set up, only what seems like hundreds of bouquets of roses, pillar candles, and a red carpet. Your mouth hangs open and you look around drinking everything in. “Enjoy madam.” The host bows and gets back onto the elevator to leave. “Uh, wait. I don’t know what’s going on.” You stutter, your mouth dry.

You hear a click and suddenly your favorite love song plays on the overhead and you feel your heart thump in your chest. “May I have this dance?” Yoongi appears before you. Your jaw drops at how amazing he looks dressed in a white shimmering suit with pink embroidered top. He smiles at you, taking you in. “You look beautiful, jagi.”

Yoongi:

“How? Why? I thought you had to work?” She questions, picking at her fingers. “Work can wait. You can’t. I’ve been working too much and neglecting you, the most important person to me. I’m sorry for that jagi. I wanted to show you just how much you mean to me, just how much I love you, here, tonight. So, may I have this dance?” He smirks, holding his hand out to her.

She smiles that big beautiful smile and moves towards him, taking his hand. He pulls her towards him, her giggle filling him with joy. They begin to sway side to side, her palm resting on his chest, his hand on the small of her back. “Won’t you get in trouble for not recording the new track?” She inquires. Yoongi shrugs. “The thought of losing you trumps any trouble I could ever get in.” He says, twirling her around. She giggles again, her body pressed against him when she returns to him.

They gaze into each other’s eyes and all Yoongi can think about is how much he loves her, how he’d do anything to see her smile the way she is right now, and how he’d never do anything to jeopardize what they’ve built. “What?” She chuckles, her cheeks reddening. “You’re just so beautiful. I can’t stop looking at you.” He whispers, leaning in to plant a kiss on her soft lips. “Dinner is served outside sir.” The host appears. Yoongi nods, leading Y/N out through the decorated area, and onto the deck where a beautiful candlelit dinner has been setup.

Yoongi pulls out the chair for her to sit and takes a seat across from her on the bench. He looks up at the night sky, thinking how not one star in that sky shines as bright as his gorgeous Y/N. “Yoongi, this is so amazing. You didn’t have to do all this.” She assures almost nervously. Yoongi reaches his hand across the table to take hers. “Of course, I did. You mean the world to me and I’m sorry that I haven’t been doing right by you. It’s wrong of me to always put you on the back burner. Yes, work is important but all these accolades and then no one to share them with? If my whole world fell apart, I know I’d be ok, so long as I have you. You deserve someone who cares and I do, so much. I promise to show you that often jagi. More than words, actions. I never want to lose you, us.”

Yoongi sees the tears forming in her eyes and he brings her hand to his lips to comfort her. “Don’t cry my love.” She stands immediately, walking over to sit in Yoongi’s lap, her head in the crook of his neck. He pulls her close, the feel of her warm body against his bringing him such comfort. “I love you so much Yoongi. I was so scared earlier, like you just didn’t care anymore but this is so amazing. You’ve made me so happy. I don’t want to lose us either.” “Never jagi. Never.” He whispers, kissing her shoulder. She shifts in his lap, moving to plant kisses on his lips. He doesn’t fuss, instead letting her dig her hands in his hair to tug at his locks.

He can’t help but moan when she drags her tongue along his bottom lip. He opens his mouth for her and she wastes no time deepening the kiss, swirling her tongue around his. She breaks the kiss, licking her lips seductively as she stands. Yoongi looks past her, smirking when the host steps out to check on them then immediately turns to walk back in when Y/N straddles Yoongi. “Jagi, we’re still in public. Let’s finish dinner and we can head back home.” Yoongi pants, his breath catching in his throat when she thrust her hips forward. She shakes her head in opposition and Yoongi frowns. “I want you now.” She whines. “Not going to happen my love.” Yoongi declares.

She bites her bottom lip, her eyes glinting with that dark lustful look Yoongi knows too well. “I’m serious.” He warns. “Me too.” She teases, planting an open mouth kiss on his neck, suckling at his flesh. Her hand dripping down to massage at his manhood. Yoongi sucks in a breath, wrapping his arm around her waist and lifting her off her feet. He walks over to a secluded area, covered by greenery and potted trees. Yoongi takes a good look around, happy to have found a spot out of camera view.

Y/N:

“My poor naughty girl. It’s my fault you can barely control yourself.” Yoongi whispers against your collar bone, planting kisses against it. “It is.” You moan, attempting to reach down to grab his erection until Yoongi grabs both your wrist in one of his large hands. “No, no, no my love. Tonight, is all about you.” He smirks, taking his bottom lip between his teeth. He raises your hands above your head, holding them in place there. He lifts his bent knee up and anchors it into the wall between your legs, planting his flexed thigh into your heat. He grips your hip with his free hand and drags you across his thigh. You gasp out loud and watch the devilish grin spread across Yoongi’s face. “That’s it baby. Use me. I want to make you feel good, watch you cum.” You whimper at his words.

Bending your knees to gain better footing, you soon begin to rock back and forth along his firm thigh, your needy bud throbbing and hardening with each thrust. “My gorgeous girl. So needy, I’ve neglected you for too long, haven’t I? Dying for release?” “Yess. Yoongi. I need you.” “I’m right here baby. Watching you, wanting you so badly. You look so beautiful. So hot against my thigh. Soaking into my pants.” He whispers, licking at the shell of your ear. You moan out, rocking harder against him, bending your knees further to press more of your electrified bean into his tensed muscle. Your panties are completely soaked and the friction against your nerve endings has you coming undone faster than you had anticipated.

“Yoongi, so close. So…. God damn close.” You mewl, throwing your head back. Yoongi releases your hands, taking your hips into his hands now. You grip his shoulders, staring into his eyes as he presses his thigh into you more, aiding you across his thigh at an accelerated rate. Your mouth falls open, and you pant frantically, your throat drying. “That’s it jagi. Let go, soak my thigh, cum for me baby.” “Oh god,” You cry out, the coil deep inside your belly tightening. You clench your cunt suddenly, your coil snapping immediately. “Oh, yes! Yoongi, I’m cumming.” You shout, digging your nails into his shoulders. He pulls you into a kiss, one hand buried in your hair the other on your ass, still dragging you across his thigh. He swallows your sobbed moans with his tongue, slowing the pace as you come back from your high.

You pull away from him, pressing your back against the wall. Yoongi stretches his leg, the very apparent wet spot glistening in the moonlight. “I ruined your suit.” You say breathlessly. He shrugs looking down at it. “I don’t care about the suit. How do feel?” “OK, like I want more.” He smiles his wide gummy smile and moves towards you, pressing his body into yours. He kisses you softly. “Like I said it’s all actions from here forward jagi. Whatever you want. Although, maybe we should eat?” You giggle, kissing him again. “OK, maybe just a quick bite.” “That’s my girl.”

[kyotarou]

practicality

Inspired by @iwaixiumi-main on Tumblr! (using your quirk for the first time headcanons)

characters: katsuki bakugou

plot: you’ve only used your quirk in front of your friends for fun little tricks, but never at its full potential. your classmates witness this for the first time when katuski bakugou hits a nerve.

warnings: swearing, angst, dedgration (not sexual), kind of a fluffy ending

word count: 1.5k+

a/n: i apologize for making kirishima the secondary love interest that gets thrown away at the end for the second time 💀💀 i promise i’ll write smt just for him 😩

Your Quirk: You have the ability to control any water around you. When under your control, the water can become as strong as iron (you determine the strength). The downside: the more you use, the heavier it feels—use too much and you could injure yourself from the weight (possibly even crushing yourself).

   Your classmates had seen your Quirk in action many times before, mainly for fun, but never during combat. You knew water wasn’t accessible in every situation, so you stuck with fist to fist action. After exam season, it surprised you to find your name on the list of students with top scores, especially on the combat portion since you barely used your Quirk. Nevertheless, a large weight was lifted from your shoulders.

     Denki and Kirishima invited all of Class 1-A to the beach to celebrate. You brought your bag inside one of the stalls, taking your sweet time to change. It was the weekend, after all, no need to rush. Worn out from exams, you planned on using the day to relax, unlike your classmates who buzzed with energy. Your plan was foiled when Kirishima caught you tiptoeing out the changing stall, hoping no one would spot you.

     “Hey hey hey, (Y/N)!” Kirishima slung his arm around your shoulders. “You ready to hit the waves with us? Maybe you can finally show us your Quirk!”

     You shook your head with a small laugh. “Come on, Kiri, you’ve seen it before.”

     Kirishima led you towards the shore. “Yeah, yeah, but I wanna see how manly it can be!”

     You pushed him off with another laugh which turned into a scream when he shoved you into the water. “Oh, you are not getting away with that!” 

     As Kirishima tried to run, tendrils of water wrapped around his ankles, keeping him grounded. He tried using his Quirk to escape, but you were stronger. You and Kiri spent the next few minutes stuck in a splash battle, which gained the attention of the others. Though you wanted good old-fashioned fun without your Quirk, the rest of the class encouraged you to show your best tricks, and their jubilant faces made it hard to refuse. You sent waves crashing at their feet to see who could run away the fastest, played volleyball with a bubble of water with Uraraka, and even swam out to the deeper parts of the beach with Kiri who was starstruck when you created air bubbles around your heads, letting you safely view the fish that swam by. 

     On the shore, Bakugou watched with steam coming out his ears. He gritted his teeth as you and Kirishima sat beside him at the picnic table, Kiri’s arm wrapped around your shivering body as the sun began to set. Jealousy nipped at his skin like harsh bug bites.

   Why should I give a fuck? Not like I’m into them or anything.

   But he knew damn well he wanted it to be his arms around you and the one to brush the wet hair out of your face instead of stupid Kiri. He glared at you and the red-haired boy, him feeding you a piece of sushi like a baby.

     “Brrr, the airplane’s coming, open wide!”

     “Dammit, Kiri! Just give it to me already.”

     You twirled your finger and a stream of water flew into Kiri’s nose. Bakugou rolled his eyes as you doubled over in laughter, chin resting in his palm.

     “Tch, couldn’t use your Quirk for something useful?”

     You shrugged. “I’d say this is pretty useful.” You stuffed a piece of sushi from Kiri’s plate into your mouth as he wiped the snot from his face.

     “You’re an idiot. Just cause you can do cool shit with it doesn’t make you the shit.”

     You gave Bakugou an awkward smile, who kept his eyes glued to the table. The rest of the class went quiet. His taunts were usually followed by a scoff or chuckle, but his voice was sharp and cold.

     “Never said I was. Not my fault everyone thinks it’s cool, right guys?” Your classmates chimed in agreement. 

     Bakugou snorted. “So why didn’t you use it during exams? Why don’t you use it for something better than shitty party tricks? Don’t you want to be a hero? How can you do that when you’re too afraid to use it against a real opponent?”

     “I-I’m not afraid!” Your cheeks burned with the anger bubbling in your stomach. “It’s just not practical!”

     “Not practical, my ass. Admit it, dumbass, you bribed your way up the class rankings, didn’t you?” 

     Kiri looked between the two of you nervously. “H-Hey man, I think that’s enough. Let’s all calm down and have some fun, alright?”

     “Shut up, Kiri! This isn’t about you!” Bakugou snarled. What the hell was he saying? Even if he refused to acknowledge his feelings, you were his crush—he let his mouth talk without thinking and there was no going back. He was letting his explosive attitude get the best of him and part of him felt relieved to blow off some steam.

     The table shook as you shot out of your seat, your clenched fists shaking at your sides and furious tears streaming down your face. 

     “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

     The class murmured as ocean water climbed slowly up the sand, dangerously close to where they set up the barbecue. “You know I studied so hard for those exams. Don’t you remember all those nights I spent awake in the middle of the night? Shitty party tricks, is that all I am to you?”

     The water rose like a cape above your shoulders, casting a dark shadow over your wrathful face. Your arms trembled under the weight, but the adrenaline ignored the pain. Kiri scurried from the table, leaving Bakugou to stare at the ominous wave blocking the last of the sun’s golden rays from view. It truly did look like an iron wall, so close to crashing down and crushing him underneath. Bakugou set off an explosion as the wave stopped inches from his neck in the shape of a spear, the tip sharp enough to slice his skin.

     “Is this practical enough for you?” you sobbed. You sank to your knees and covered your tear stricken face. The water retreated to the ocean, leaving everyone untouched, except the poor table, now charred from Bakugou’s hand. Sniffling, you snatched your bag from the sand and excused yourself before slamming the door of the changing stall. After getting dressed, you declined Uraraka and Deku’s offer to accompany you to Heights Alliance. With the mood now sour, Class-1A packed and cleaned the area before heading home in tense silence. 

     Bakugou couldn’t sleep that night. He stared at the ceiling with a frown, hands clasped together on his stomach. He cared about you so much, but he let his stupid jealousy consume him. Now, you would probably be angry with him for the rest of your life, and Bakugou couldn’t live with that. Seeing you walk away with your head down and wiping your tears shattered his heart. You were the one for him and he fucked it up like he always did.

   He jumped from his bed with a pounding heart. He slipped on his shoes, which were on the wrong feet, and left his dorm.

     What the hell am I doing? 

     Bakugou pounded on your door. He couldn’t care less if the whole building woke up—he had to see you. He was never one to share his feelings, but with you in mind at that moment, there was nothing more he wanted to do. Bakugou pounded on your door again, tempted to blow it down if you didn’t wake up. To his surprise, you answered with a scowl and puffy eyes. 

   “What the fuck do you want?”

     You swore your ribs almost caved in when his strong, muscular arms wrapped around your body fervently. Bakugou kept his hand on your head as he nuzzled his nose into your hair, inhaling your sweet, comforting scent.

     “I’m sorry…” he murmured. His grip tightened when you tried to push him off.

     “Is that all you have to say?” you hissed. Your voice shook at the foreign feeling of his warmth, making you wonder if it was someone else disguised as him.

     “No, it’s not.” Bakugou cupped your face with both hands, heart beating a mile a minute as he stared into your eyes. “I like you id- (Y/N). I’ve always liked you, and I’m sorry.”

     You were paralyzed. Bakugou’s calloused thumb brushed a stray tear you didn’t even know had fallen from your face. Your mouth hung open in disbelief.

     He… likes me?

     His words from earlier rushed back into your head. You tried to shake off his grasp. “What a great fucking way to show that.”

     “I know, I know. I didn’t mean any of it, you have to believe me. I was just… I was jealous, okay? I was fucking jealous of you and Kiri getting all buddy-buddy, and I said shit I shouldn’t have said.” Your eyes widened as he placed a tentative kiss between your brows. “You’re more than a party trick; you’re everything to me. And I can’t live with the idea of you hating me, cause I like you too much to handle that. Hell, I might even love you.”

     Your lip quivered at the sudden rush of emotions. You clung to the front of his shirt and pressed his face against his shoulder. “Do you really mean that?”

     “Hell yeah, I do. I-”

     You cut him off with a gentle kiss to the lips. “I like you, too, Katsuki. But what you said…”

     “You don’t have to forgive me right now. But you’re my world, my little teddy bear, and I just want to hold you. Is that too much to ask?”

     You shook your head. “It’s never too much to ask.”

[drabbleface]

Survival of the Solstice - 1

Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4

“You ready for tonight?”

Tonight was the summer solstice - the longest day of the northern hemisphere, and the shortest night. It was a day of celebration at the abbey, with the return of warmth and outdoor activities, and flowers and trees in full bloom. Said celebrations carried on until nightfall, when the Siblings would tuck themselves away in preparation for what was to happen as the moon rose high in the starlit sky.

“I think so. I got… huh, let’s see…”

Tonight the Ghouls were to go wild. 361 days a year, the Ghouls were just like anyone else in the clergy. Demons, of course, with their deep gray skin, killer fangs, leathery whip-like tails, and horns protruding from their hairlines, but surprisingly gentle and kind souls that moseyed around the abbey when not touring the world under glamoured disguises with their fearless leader, Papa Emeritus IV. But those four nights a year, the solstices and the equinoxes, something snapped in them, like a fixture finally breaking with all the weight and pressure it had held up becoming too much to withstand.

“Bananas?”

“Oh, definitely bananas. You know we can’t go out there without bananas. I also have Cinnamon Toasteds, dehydrated apple slices, crackers, graham crackers, cheese puffs, Frootie Loopies. There’s more already in the bags; you know how picky they can get.”

“They better not scarf it all down; I’m going to be starving after this.”

Without a care in the world on those nights, the Ghouls went on a frenzy inside the confines of the abbey walls. They were like feral beasts, running through the halls, chasing down any poor soul that might be out after sunset, and ripping and tearing at each other in reckless abandon. Sister Imperator had given the task to two freshly initiated Sisters - bright-eyed and bushy-tailed Delilah and Adelaide, barely twenty at the time - the job of the quarterly wrangling of the Ghouls many moons ago; be it a test or a cruel joke, neither knew. Imperator had explained the whole reasoning behind it, something about the changing sun and moon positions affecting the Ghouls’ circadian rhythms (truthfully the Sisters had forgotten the whole science of it over the years, not that it mattered when being chased by a hellspawned creature), and after well over a decade of performing such a daunting task, they’d become something akin to professionals.

The Ghouls nor Sisters partook in the day’s earlier activities; the demons were knocked out in their quarters and the women needed to prepare themselves for the night ahead. They were meticulous with their preparations - they had to be. One wrong misstep, fumbling too long with a container, their gear out of place, could cost them dearly and no one else was going to step in and save them from razored claws and teeth that could shred skin like tissue paper. They had their own little storage space, always tidy and neat, where they kept their protective equipment and a supply of snacks that was stored away for their duties. The joys of having a plethora of food and their own homebase, they could sneak in anytime and take some for themselves - the job certainly had its perks.

“Me too,” Delilah let out an exaggerated groan, brushing her fingers through blonde, sideswept bangs to push them up and away from her face and then back through her cropped hair. “I’d bring something a little heartier than snacks-“

“But then they’ll expect us to share,” Adelaide finished, turning her attention from lacing her boots up her calf to the other woman. “It’s not our fault they missed dinner,” as if by force of habit herself, she reached up and mimicked Delilah’s movements, fluffing a hand through her brunette, pieced and pixie-cut hair. “And I’m not going to be the one to wake the ticking time bombs.”

She was right; there was no need to rush the inevitable.

                                                  _____

The night was young when the Sisters stepped out into the hallway from their storage room, both decked out in thick leather jackets zipped up to their necks and fingerless leather gloves strapped securely around their wrists. Delilah opted for running shoes, and Adelaide her calf-high chunky combat boots, and both settled with pairs of wildly-printed leggings that held tight to their legs. At their sides were their satchels, already unbuckled and at the ready to be reached into when the time came. They weren’t winning any fashion contests, but they could at least have some type of fun while sticking their necks out to keep some sort of balance and peace within the church.

They started with a slow, practiced sweep of the different halls through one side of the abbey, furthest from the Ghouls and their communal living den. It housed part of the clergy and other Siblings quarters, who knew to tuck in early for the night, especially when the sound of Addie’s clunking boots reverberated off the walls and high into the cathedral ceilings. It was a powerful sound, sending a strong message to anyone in earshot that the wranglers’ work had just begun. At least, that’s what they had hoped for - they did agree that, at the very least, it sounded pretty badass and it never failed to bring attention, as doors creaked open and heads popped out through the gaps to get a glimpse of the women passing by.

“I bet Papa’s glad he’s home this time around and not on the road,” Adelaide spoke nonchalantly as they ventured deeper through the abbey’s hallways, growing closer toward the figurative belly of the beast: the Ghouls’ den.

Delilah let out a soft, bemused snort. “Yeah, I heard about that. Locked them on the bus for the night and said ‘let God sort them out’?”

“They made it back in one piece and without a shredded bus, so maybe God really does work miracles.”

“Hey, hey, that’s some blasphemous talk, Sister!” There was no fighting the fit of giggles that erupted out of the blonde at her own jest, which in turn set her partner off as well. “This is no time to talk about Him! We have some important shit to do!”

“My apologies, Sister,” the brunette replied between the giggles. “You’re right, we have to at least be on our C game.”

Their giddiness and easy conversation continued as they strolled, seemingly unbothered by the idea that they were walking headfirst into the depths of the beasts’ home. That was, until, the sound of claws clicking and dragging against stone echoed out from the hallway before them which led to the Ghouls’ wing; they hushed almost instantly and stopped in their tracks. They were awake.

“You think it’s too late to let God sort them out once more...?”

“... I think so. Gotta be honest, I’m pretty jealous it worked for Copia.”

“You and me both.”

This was always the worst part and it tied both Sisters’ stomachs into knots - the unknowing, the hopes they were decently prepared for whatever mood the Ghouls were in. Delilah shuffled into her bag to grab a mask, as Adelaide shifted hers that was propped up on the top of her head: vintage hockey masks that bore a striking resemblance to a certain cursed lake slasher. The comedy and irony of said masks wasn’t lost on the Sisters, but they quickly accepted that they were exceptionally good at blocking the demons’ talons when one swiped Delilah from top to bottom of hers during one of their first times, leaving only the mask in ruin and not her soft skin underneath. After that, they convinced Imperator to have two more made of Kevlar, reminding her that it was much more cost-effective than plastic surgery.

“Let's do this?”

Delilah reached her left hand out and Adelaide took it with a firm squeeze.

“Let’s do this.”

They held hands as they ventured into the hallway, the blonde mumbling, “I swear they keep it dark on purpose…” as they approached the Ghouls’ wing of the abbey. No surprise there; the demons had incredible night-vision. There was a change in the air as they crossed the threshold into the wing - filled with electricity and a heaviness that couldn’t quite be put into words. It all felt... strange. The energy off. Was something wrong? The women dropped their hands, both sets of eyes darting around to take a good look at their surroundings and for any signs of further movement. None yet.

“Sisters…”

The Sisters stopped again, glancing at each other with just the slightest turns of their heads. They were here.                                                  _____ In the dark, the shuffling of claws and the soft rumbles of Ghouls began to grow louder, their full attention on the women who dared to encroach in their space. With ease, they surrounded the women, some crouched down on their digitigrade legs, while others stood up straight and tall, and all of their tails snapped back and forth excitedly. But one took charge, his nails clinking along the ground as he stepped up behind the women, taking absolute prideful glee as they shuddered and tensed their shoulders. He leaned in between their heads, having enough sense to not to whack them with his horns, and took a deep, sharp inhale. Their scent was warm and sweet, with a hint of spiked adrenaline coursing through their veins - it was lovely - and he clicked his tongue appreciatively. With each hand, he trailed his claws along each of their opposite shoulders, rumbling in delight as chills made their bodies quiver; they were so easy to work up, even after all this time.

Voice low, purr-like, and almost sickly sweet, he murmured between them.

“We’ve missed you.”

Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4

[jeongi]

caught me. | jjk (m)

(edit done by my love, @httpjeon)

↣ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | jungkook x reader

↣ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 13.5k

↣ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 | roommate au. slight e2l au. smut. porn with very little plot.

↣ 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | explicit language and sexual content. mentions of vaping. mutual masturbation, sex toy usage, oral sex (f + m receiving), gagging, fingering, squirting, dirty talk, some wall fucking, riding, unprotected sex (you know the drill, wrap it up), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie, jungkook has tattoos, long wavy hair and a giant schlong.

↣ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | you hate your temporary roommate, jungkook and it doesn’t help that he’s been catching you at the most inconvenient of times.

“Seokjin, how could you do this to me?” You whine from the kitchen island, reflexively stabbing at the bowl of cereal in front of you. You can’t believe your roommate is just now telling you, a day before he leaves for vacation, that his “friend” will be temporarily moving in while he’s away. Of course, Seokjin pays no mind to your tantrum. Instead, he continues packing the last of his luggage in the living space, across the room. Simply rolling his eyes and heaving a sigh in response, he’s far more acquainted with your antics than he’d like to be. He could almost call you the younger sibling he most certainly never wanted, a nuisance wrapped in feigned misery. The arrangement between the two of you seemed nothing more than the result of a last-ditch Craigslist roommate search.

He should have known the consequences, he supposes.

Another sigh escapes his lips as he turns his attention away from the luggage. “_____, I’m only leaving for three months.”

You wail again, this time, your arms stretching across the cool, granite counter to push the bowl away from yourself. You’ve wholly lost your appetite, ready to wreak havoc as you slide off the stool you’re sat on and stomp your way over to him.

“I don’t care about you leaving me!” Seokjin scoffs at this statement, returning his focus to the open suitcase laid on the floor in front of him. “I care about you stuffing me in this apartment with a complete stranger while you’re gone.” What was the fucker’s name again? Jon Q, John Cook? You’re furious, but of course, Seokjin fails to take notice of this. Instead, he fishes into his pocket for his phone and scrolls through his extensive list of items to pack. He’s only gotten through half of it.

Your words don’t seem to have much of an impact on him, fueling your fury. “What if he tries to murder me? Or even worse, what if I end up murdering him? You won’t even be here to help me hide the body— this is a travesty!” This is followed with another signature sigh, all drama, your wrist shooting up to your forehead as you dab at invisible sweat.

You briefly think you might actually hate Seokjin.

He pauses, dropping his phone into the open luggage before craning his head towards you. Blinking, purely baffled by the lunacy he has to constantly put up with, he internally gives his utmost gratitude to the heavens that his work has sent him on this European trip tomorrow. Three clean months of the peaceful canals of Venice, the Colosseum in Rome, the Eiffel Tower in Paris and most importantly, three lovely quiet months away from you. Suddenly, three months no longer seems an eternity to him. How could it? He assesses you top to bottom, seeing nothing more than a rabid young woman scorned, hands placed sternly on her hips, expectant of a reply.

No sir, three months is not long enough at all.

Seokjin pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, squeezing his eyes shut as he speaks through gritted teeth. “You are the most melodramatic person I know— you think you can afford to pay my rent for the next three months?” This shuts you up momentarily.

For a moment, you’re disarmed. You can’t argue that he’s right, and you hate admitting it’s the only reason for your new (temporary) roommate.

Releasing his nose, he looks at you, warming a little. “Look, he asked to stay here -temporarily- until he finds his own place. He’s my best friend; wouldn’t you do the same for yours?”

That final bit had the effect he wanted it to, and boy, did it sting. Of course, you’d do the same for your best friend. The only trouble is that you know very little information about this John Cook character, only getting brief details about him moving into the big city for the first time and Seokjin “graciously” providing him a rental until he can find something more permanent. It isn’t a fault on Seokjin’s half. You just don’t know the poor bastard.

Beyond that, you know this guy is a Taekwondoin, moving here to join one of the most prestigious Taekwondo academies in the country. Your blood runs cold in a sudden rush, a certain grim realization dawning on you that you’d absolutely be no match for him if he did try to kill you. Perhaps Seokjin has told you so late because he too wants you dead. You really shouldn’t have met him through Craiglist.

You consider leaving a lengthy, final Tumblr post in remembrance of your inevitable end, hoping one of your 12 followers would come forth and save you from a gruesome slashing. At best, someone saves your life. At worst, you’ve written your own eulogy.

Huffing a breath of frustration, something akin to a groan escapes you as you march back to the kitchen island for your now soggy bowl of cereal. It only fuels your now quiet rage further, but pettiness takes over, mentally muting Seokjin’s yelling profanities after watching you dispose of one of his favourite glass bowls. It’s the least you can do as revenge.

As it turns out, Jeon Jungkook is a nearly six feet tall mural of muscle and inked skin that rarely stays home. His dark wavy hair falls gracefully past his large doe eyes, and his plethora of tattoos litter the tight expanse of his neck and arms. Notably, the blossom of two red roses painted over the porcelain of his neck.

Though verbally a silent roommate, you find he vapes far too much and equally plays far too much Fortnite at odd hours of the night. He only comes out of his room to either make himself food or to leave the apartment, and a couple of times you could have almost sworn he might’ve been doing his laundry. He’s a feast to lay eyes on, that much is irrefutable but he leaves at least one utensil unwashed after eating, irritating you to an unprecedented degree.

Jungkook also enjoys eating ramen at two in the morning- you know this because it wakes you up almost every time you hear the microwave blare its oppressive siren. He also figures he must shower each time he returns home from being out, suitably fattening your poor water bill. You’ve only briefly spoken to him a handful of times, mostly about house rules and a tour of the facilities.

It’s only been two weeks since he’s arrived, yet you already seem to despise him- sending Seokjin angry messages from across the globe about this, all of which have been ignored. You’ve been too busy lately anyway, rarely seeing Jungkook who seems to be out for most of the day.

However, it’s today that you finally catch him when you’re just coming home from work. He sits at the kitchen island, flipping through a comic while he loudly chomps on an open bag of shrimp chips, pausing to look at you as you make your way inside.

You’re on speakerphone with your friend Nari, both of your arms too occupied and laden with groceries to normally hold the phone to your ear. Upon seeing this, Jungkook gets up from his seat and immediately rushes to lend a hand. He’s completely shirtless, his loose dark sweatpants hugging the low subtle curve of his hips, and it’s only then that you notice the mosaic of more tattoos scattered across his skin beyond his full sleeves and the two red roses on his neck. He has much more than you had initially seen, a large black and white snake running over his pelvic bone. It draws your eyes forward, let’s it linger over to his bare abdomen, untouched with ink and defined with muscle. You can see it evidently, the indents carved into him as if he’s been sculpted from the finest of limestone.

You catch yourself from staring, thanking him with a silent bow of your head as he turns away from you, all the bags of groceries now racked effortlessly down his taut arms. Your momentary and involuntary ogling is cut short by Nari’s voice booming through the loudspeaker of your phone.

“God, you really need to get laid soon- I’m tired of you being so grumpy.” You freeze, nearly choking on your own saliva. “I already deal with one grump on a daily, I don’t need to add another to my inventory.”

Fuck. “Yeah, well, working on it!” You titter nervously into the microphone. It’s all in vain, for Nari is relentless in her pursuits.

“Didn’t you say your new roommate was hot? Just fuck him, that’d be pretty convenient. It’s like, like...dick-on-demand!” She laughs, guffawing into the mic as though it’s the most hilarious thing she has ever said. You stand there, eyes wide and mortified as the cackle from the other end of the line sounds more villainous than genuine humour. Her words linger still in the air, and a very deep desire to Crtl+Z yourself from life’s current existence fills your petrified body.

You know Jungkook has heard the words because he pauses in his step very briefly, faint stutters in his movement as his back stays turned towards you. Before you catch the slightest motion of his head about to look over his shoulder, you’re whipping around and fumbling for your phone. With the greatest deft you can muster, your thumbs desperately try smashing the giant red ‘end call’ button.

To no avail, the phone screen freezes, Nari’s cackling report still filing through.

You think this feels like a nightmare. In fact, you’re certain you’ve had a nightmare precisely like this before. Except this is real, very much real and you’re humiliated. cheeks surely flushed crimson as you tut in annoyance at your malfunctioning product of capitalism.

Jungkook simply clears his throat and continues moving towards the kitchen once again, acting as if nothing has happened. Under any other circumstances, you would almost be offended, but given the current nature of what has just transpired, you both let the feeling pass. “Anyway,” Nari continues and you wish she’d shut up. “I gotta go, Yoongi just got Minecraft and I’m going to give him the best head of his life,” she groans into the mic in satisfaction. “I love you, bye!” She cuts the mic, completely and blissfully unaware of the impending Armageddon she’s inadvertently spawned. You’re stood there in horrified silence, counting to five in your head before you’re very anxiously swivelling around.

You open your mouth to say something, but words fail you. What could you even say?

Jungkook cuts in. “I’ll uh, put these away. Don’t worry about it.” He beams you a rather charming grin, completely devoid of any awkward tension that filled the air moments ago. Somehow, this surprises you far more than if he had acknowledged it.

You thank him with haste, your feet acting much quicker than your head as you swiftly cut across the kitchen towards the hallway where your bedroom stands. Avoiding eye contact at all costs, your face is surely now painted just as red as Jungkook’s bag of shrimp chips on the counter.

Perhaps it’s to ease yourself more than anything that you decide to get angry over this situation. You’re not angry at Nari, no, you’re angry at Jungkook. Who was he to waltz into your apartment and have you monitor your phone calls? And be shirtless nonetheless? Had he no manners? Why should you have to tiptoe around him? You think if this were Seokjin, he wouldn’t nearly make everything so uncomfortable for you in your own place of living. Seokjin would also wash all his dishes and sleep at a reasonable time. This thought only fuels you more.

The words slip out of you before you can even comprehend stopping. “For Christ’s sake wear a shirt while I’m home, I don’t need to see you prancing half naked around the apartment. This isn’t Magic Mike, it’s home- my home.” You bark, halting Jungkook in his movements as he goes to place a new carton of milk into the fridge. He turns to look at you, the dangle of his silver earrings glinting against the light and you almost grimace at how attractive he looks in this moment.

Before he can respond, you’re pivoting away from him and walking towards your bedroom.

You slam your door with a thud and let out a strangled groan. Perhaps it was too harsh, the anger is now replaced with further distress. You toss yourself onto your mattress, stuffing your face into the nearest pillow and restraining yourself with every ounce of self-control you have from screaming your lungs out into it.

You hadn’t even called Jungkook hot, you had mentioned that he was conventionally attractive- which wasn’t a lie in the slightest. You’re half tempted to call her back and scold her good for the humiliation she’s so blissfully unaware of causing, but as you pick up your phone, a text flashes across your screen with a name you’re all too familiar with. And all too soon, your agitation grinds to a halt, dissipates and metamorphosizes into a goofy, toothy grin.

Taehyung - [1 New Text Message]

Kim Taehyung works just across the room from you on the seventh floor of the accounting firm. He has rich blonde hair and plump pink lips that he constantly wets with a dab of his tongue. You swear he’s been purposely winding you up recently, the brushes against your skin too frequent, the lingering stares too prolonged and the husk in his voice too low when he speaks to you. You’ve had a crush on Taehyung since you’ve started working at the firm, two years ago. Of course, he’s completely unaware of this.

5:44pm [Taehyung]: Hey, can I ask you for a favour?

The squeal you let out is unbearable, even to you. You feel the reminiscence of being back in middle school when your sixth-grade crush, Park Jimin had asked you to the Halloween dance. Of course, that night had ended terribly for you, catching Jimin and your rival, Sooya slow dancing while you went to get unnaturally lukewarm fruit punch from the snack bar. But much like right now, you remember the butterflies fluttering through your entire body the night before the dance.

Feeling the crimson warmth return to your cheeks, you clutch your phone to your chest while a coy smile stretches across your lips. You practice your well-rehearsed, five-minute wait before texting Taehyung back, typing and retyping your response until you’re satisfied with a legible reply. Pursing your lips, you go back and forth between adding a smiley face or not, ultimately choosing to go with one just to further the delusions in your head that adding one will somehow make him fall madly in love with you.

5:50pm [You]: of course you can! :)

You gasp when your phone vibrates within seconds, a giddy coo leaving you as his name flashes once more across your screen. You slap a hand over your mouth when you hear the footsteps of Jungkook pass by your door, your eyes darting towards the shadow of his feet seen just underneath the crack of your door. His room- rather Seokjin’s room- is right next door to yours, another unfortunate occurrence in your miserable life.

5:50pm [Taehyung]: Could you possibly drop me off at the airport tomorrow morning? I’ll treat you to breakfast on the way!!

Your grin grows tenfold, your teeth clutching your bottom lip in its hold as you glide your fingers over the keyboard with an answer.

5:52pm [You]: it’d be my pleasure!!

It seems as if everyone but you and Jungkook were going away on vacation from this hell city. Perhaps you may be in need of one too.  

You drop Taehyung off at the airport at five in the morning. You think it should be illegal for anyone to wake up at such an hour. You hadn’t had much time to sleep, Jungkook’s nightly ramen snacking occurring at exactly two in the morning, just two hours before you were supposed to be awoken by the chirps of your alarm. As if the morning couldn’t have gotten any worse, you had learned Taehyung was travelling abroad to meet his very long-term and long-distance girlfriend for the first time. Your luck seems to have worsened as you’ve aged. All the signs you thought you’d seen of him visibly showing his interest in you had all been in your head.

By the time you reach home, it’s six, the sun barely peeking through the hillside view from your apartment and your eyes are droopy, heavy with sleep. A yawn escapes you as you place your keys on the kitchen counter before you kick off your shoes and shuffle towards the living room in a slump. You plop onto the couch, releasing a long exhale as you lift your feet up to lay more comfortably.

Briefly, you think you should stay up and get your day started, as you reckon most people who have their shit together would do as such. Unfortunately for your itinerary, you’re not most people and you’re certainly not someone who has their shit together. You’re _____ and you’re now dreaming, dreaming of a single Kim Taehyung.

His mouth is on yours, golden locks under the tight grip of your fingers and his cock is steadily rocking into you, fingers digging into your sides. He has you seated on the bathroom counter, your legs circled around his waist as his sharp thrusts elicit the neediest of cries from you.

“Taehyung!” You’re moaning, eyes rolled so far back into your skull, you feel the pull of your optic nerve. Loosening your grip on Taehyung’s hair, he moves away from your mouth and rests his forehead in the crook of your neck. Every curve of his dick plunges in calculated fashion into your cunt, egging you closer to your undoing.

Another sharp thrust has your entire body shuddering, a lapse of jitters filling you as your orgasm rumbles through you. When Taehyung lifts his head from the crook of your neck, you gasp. For when you look at his face, it’s no longer Taehyung, it’s now Jungkook.

He offers a lopsided smirk, an indent of his dimple forming around the right side of his mouth while a finger trails down your cheek.

“Wake up,” the apparition whispers.

You gasp awake, spine shooting upright as you heave heavy breaths. Skimming your hands over your face, you let out a frustrated groan, bewilderment and daze hitting you as you land right back to reality.

“Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” You hear a low voice and you immediately shriek, arms hugging yourself in a mock attempt to hide yourself even if you are fully clothed at the moment. You look over, glancing at the tall, frozen figure stood in the kitchen. His doe eyes are wide, startled by your reaction, dark hair wavy and long, clinging around the edge of his pale face and you can see the faintest trace of the red ink on his neck underneath the loose collar of his black hoodie. He’s got a knife in one hand and a half-cut tomato laid on a cutting board in front of him. “I-I was going to wake you up for lunch but…” His face has suddenly flushed to a shade of rose, tongue swiftly dabbing at his bottom lip. He clears his throat and hesitates before looking away. “Y-you seemed engrossed in your sleep, I didn’t want to wake you up.” What was that supposed to mean?

When you look behind him, the pot on the stove is steaming and it’s then that you catch the aroma of sauteed onions and oregano. Naturally, your mouth instantly waters, eyes glancing over to the digital clock that displays itself on the stove. It reads as five minutes past noon and you rub your eyes with the back of your hand before you’re blinking towards the time again. Had you really passed out for a solid six hours? How long had Jungkook been here? “You...don’t have work today?” You swallow, slowly raising up your feet.

Jungkook merely chuckles and shakes his head no. The silver of his dangling earrings swings with this motion. “I’m not working yet, I’m a student at Master Seong’s.” You had almost forgotten about the Taekwondo Academy, it’s the exact reason he’s now standing here in your kitchen cutting tomatoes. “Hopefully, I’ll be the one teaching by next year.” As he speaks, you notice he has a perfect set of pearly whites but then you think of course he does- anything that would make Jeon Jungkook less perfect at this point would be a micropenis. For whatever reason, that makes your blood boil but as much as you’re in disdain, the thought instantly brings attention to a sweltering puddle between your legs.

Your head shoots down, feet shifting uncomfortably as you feel a slick cling against your panties and it’s then that every aspect of your sex dream hits you in a movie montage. You had fully and wholeheartedly dreamt of Jungkook fucking you.

You gasp, unwillingly, feet losing balance before you catch yourself against the counter. Jungkook pauses and looks at you, a tentative eyebrow cocking in your direction in question.

“Is everything alright?” He asks, more curious than considerate. His voice seems to ebb and flow with the sultry ease that only he could— my god, maybe you do need to get laid.

You use your elbows to push yourself off the counter before you’re walking over to the stove, body brushing against Jungkook’s back as you reach for the vent switch.

“Next time you cook something, turn on the exhaust fan or else it’ll get smokey in here.” You say, voice stoic like ice in this smothering heat, ignoring the blatant arousal seeping out of your cunt. You brush past him once more to make way towards the hallway.

Jungkook sighs in defeat, watching as your figure disappears into your bedroom.

The moth outside your window bats against the patio light with a fierce determination that boggles your mind. You wonder what might be going through the moth’s head: does it ponder this alien, man-made warmth it now feverishly flutters around? Does it understand it in the slightest? Why else would such a simple creature be breaking the peace of a sticky midsummer’s eve?

You glance at the clock on your dresser. It’s now half past midnight, and you’re dying in this stupid heat. Perhaps it didn’t help that you had a six-hour nap, impressed by your ability to do so in broad daylight. And you can’t get it out of your head, the dream. It’s kept you horny all day- in need of relief. You think about the last time you’ve had sex, a one night stand with a tall, polite gentleman named Namjoon. It was quite possibly the best sex you’ve ever had, a shame you never caught his number.

With a less than pathetic groan of protest, you put your head between the pillow and the mattress, savouring the seconds of coolness that surround your head in a desperate bid to lower the temperature however you can. Something’s got to be better than stringing sex and a fucking invertebrate into the same train of thought this late at night.

Raising your head up from the pillow, you weigh your options. You’re not about to drink yourself to sleep, and your secret supply of ZzzQuil has run dry. Fortunately, you have a solution.

It’s nights like tonight that you can’t hold yourself back, orgasms helped you sleep better anyway. Your vibrator mocks you, blinking as it charges for the first time in weeks. You hear Jungkook shuffle on the other side of the room, your teeth gnawing at your bottom lip as you quietly reach your bedside table for a pair of headphones. You grasp at odds and ends until your fingers find purchase, and with a small sense of victory, you pull a very tangled mess of headphones from the drawer. You hear a cough on the other side and pause, gulping as if you’re fourteen all over again and just discovered the fruits of pleasuring yourself for the first time.

The vibrator’s LED light switches to a solid green, indicating its readiness to abuse your very untouched clit. You flush at the thought, yet eager as the familiar moisture pools in between your legs. You’re suddenly all too ready, all too demanding of the touch of a toy that you haven’t felt in too long. Why had you been putting this off for so long?

Unplugging it from the outlet next to your bed, you slip off your shorts and lay comfortably back onto your mattress. Another blush creeps onto your cheeks, your thumb unlocking your phone and opening the Chrome app. Making sure to switch to a private browser, you hesitantly type it in.

‘Pornhub’

The link loads embarrassingly quickly and you flush further, a mix of both the heat and your self chagrin marking the apples of your cheeks. You don’t even know what to look for, the home page overwhelming you with a variety of sinful thumbnails, begging to be clicked on. It almost makes you grimace in distaste, suddenly too aware of your surroundings and the situation at hand. You decide against pornography, gripping onto your imagination as you toss your phone aside and clear your throat, settling back onto the mattress with your eyes closed.

You’ll think about Namjoon. His broad hands, slender fingers and that deliciously thick cock. His moans, his honey skin and the way he was able to make you come twice that night.

Spreading your legs apart, you fixate the vibrator against your heat, gasping at the cool tip of the silicone already sensitive against your clit. You’re already soaked, the head gliding over your clit with slick.

It feels wrong when you turn the device on, the low buzz of vibrations filling the air. Brows knitted together, you picture Namjoon again. Trying to imagine the stroke of his tongue against your folds as the buzz of your vibrator rings through you, you gasp at the overwhelming sensation. Why didn’t you do this more often? You try to stay quiet, breathing growing laboured as the image of Namjoon between your legs morphs into something else. Rather, it morphs into someone else.

You see it in your head, your fingers threading through dark curls, legs pinned apart by two ink-sleeved arms. When you look down, you’re met by the intense gaze of brown doe eyes, his brows furrowed as his tongue flicks relentlessly against you. It’s almost as he’s smirking at you, the slightest quirk in his eyebrow implying that he knows he’d fucking you well with only his tongue. The image makes you shudder, shaking your head as you kick this sick fantasy out of your mind. Were you out of your mind?

On the other side of the room, Jungkook’s ears perk up to the sound of this low buzz. He hadn’t realized you were still awake. But as the buzzing intensifies, and a rhythmic deep breathing follows, it soon grows impossible to ignore. He has to be certain. Cautiously removing one earphone, he almost leans into the noise, cocking his head to the side.

No, that’s definitely you, alright.

You gasp as you apply more pressure to your clit, eyes rolling back from the waves of vibrations surging through your entire body. You can’t get it out of your head, imagining Jungkook’s taut arms holding you down, his tongue unforgiving against you. The moan that escapes you is wholly on accident, a hand slapping against your mouth in an attempt to silence yourself further.

Jungkook sits at his desk, dumbfounded. Were you really doing what he thought you were? Surely not. It’s then that hears the moan. It penetrates the thin wall that separates the two of you and stirs a familiar twitch in his boxers. He feels it press against the fabric, stretching with every heartbeat that knocks against his ribcage. His breathing begins to deepen, only letting his imagination wander as to what you were doing in this moment, merely a few feet away.

No, he thinks. Absolutely not. Behave yourself.

You’re…well, you’re moaning.

Fuck this, Jungkook’s inner dialogue protests. If you’re not going to play fair, then neither is he. He rises from his desk, tripping slightly over his office chair, clattering the plastic wheels against the hardwood floor. The sound reverberates through what feels like the entire house, and the silence is broken by the impact, which by all accounts seems far too noisy for its own good.

Jungkook freezes, terrified. The buzzing ceases just as suddenly, and the air is replaced with an undesirable discomfort.

Inside your room, your left hand tightens over your mouth the other switches off the vibrator. The kerfuffle seemed to have occurred frighteningly close, prompting a sudden cease to desist all sinful pleasures. The anxieties come in waves, one after another. Did he hear you? Oh God, how long was he listening? Was that even him?

A painful eternity passes. The silence fills the house once more, the crickets outside resuming their nightly song.

Jungkook half expects you to barge into his room, fuming at him for being a pervert and listening in but your feared assault never comes. If anything, his cock only seems to grow harder, the thought of you pleasuring yourself just on the other side of the wall so alluring, he begins to palm himself over his boxers.

You, on the other hand, upon the silence, convince yourself that he hadn’t heard after all. Surely, it was something else, Jungkook had probably already gone to bed.

Jungkook. Your lips form the shape of his name but no sound comes out, only a heavy exhale. This is wrong, beyond inappropriate and downright vulgar. It’s the dimples, you try to argue with yourself. Or those eyes, a deep coffee brown that take away from his masculine frame. It almost brings a childlike charm, distracts you from the surfeit of tattoos that mark his muscular build.

With impatience, you start the vibrator again, placing the device over your clit once more. You’re soaked beyond control, your own fingers itching to be stuffed inside yourself. Thumb hitting the setting button, the buzz of vibrations grow an octave higher as the intensity of the second setting rolls over your bead with a blast of euphoric pleasure. It’s almost too much, legs clamping shut as the judder of silicone repeatedly assaults your clit. Your panting growing quicker, inching you to tip over the edge. Oh, how you yearned to be filled with a cock.

“Fuck,” Jungkook mutters under his breath, giving into the barbaric thoughts in his head. Quietly, he slides his boxers down his thighs and situates himself back onto his desk chair. His cock is throbbing, tip a blushed pink as his heartbeat begins to resonate harder. Were you doing this on purpose? Were you testing him? Teasing him? He rests his head back, eyes fluttering to a close as he holds the base of his painfully erect cock with his right hand.

His hand slowly begins to slide up and down his own length, twisting slightly whenever his fingers cross over his glans. The sensation fills him with ecstasy, and he can’t help but gasp as he tightens his grip and continues to stroke his cock. He thinks of you, on the other side of the wall with your legs spread, flushed and begging to be fucked. How well he’d fit inside you, how well you’d take him in your tight cunt and how you’d whimper his name into his ear. With these thoughts, his pace on himself quickens, breaths laboured against the air. This was wrong, so wrong but hearing you like this, imagining you sprawled on your bed in desperate need of his touch only pushes him further to his climax.

For a moment, he thinks about risking it all and just ripping your door open to fuck you into your next existence. He stays planted onto the leather seat, his hands roaming in a familiar rhythm.

You are minutes, seconds away from seeing strings of white. It’s when you raise your vibrator to its third setting that you come undone, biting the inside of your cheek as your orgasm plummets you to a new horizon and Jungkook’s name sits at the edge of your tongue.

You feel it spray out of you, your arousal sprinkling over your bed sheets in a clear indication of your collapse. You gasp and shudder, quick to turn off the device as its relentless motion becomes far too much for your sensitive clit.

You lay for a moment, gathering your bearings as your high lingers between the furrow of your eyebrows. Your head feels heavy, sleep overtaking every inch of your body and you begin nodding off almost instantaneously, vibrator still in hand. It’s when you shift to doze more comfortably that your thigh makes contact with a cool, wet splotch.

Your eyes spring open and you’re sitting up, flicking on your bedside lamp. You have just squirted all over your sheets, the damp puddle prominent and deride. You sit there in disbelief, blinking at the mess between your legs. You frown, suddenly becoming aware of the incessant pounding in your head from your high and you curse yourself for making such a mess.

Now you have to do the laundry, there’s no way you could sleep in these.

Jungkook is close, frustratingly so…it won’t take much at this rate for him to blow his load all over himself. He places his hand firmly around the chair handle, fingers gripping against the plastic. His other hand strokes faster than ever before, breaths deepening. And as he reaches his climax, the quietest of moans escape his lips, followed by your name. It’s so soft on his tongue, it feels uncouth. The trail of white fluid follows, spurts out of his cock and onto his stomach. He pants, quick to milk every ounce of himself with the squeeze of his palm around the edge of his head and then he’s reaching for his water bottle, taking a cool swig of the liquid.

He has to shower now, there’s no way he could sleep like this.

As you unhook the last of your sheets from the mattress, you quickly roll the fabric into a giant ball within your arms. You’re on your tippy-toes, hesitantly reaching for your door as you twist the knob and pull the barrier open. You look around, relieved to see the hallway engulfed in complete darkness. Jungkook’s door is closed, no light emitting through the cracks which means he must be asleep. Gingerly, you close the door behind you and tiptoe towards the end of the hall where the laundry room is- attached to the shared washroom.

You’re quick to stuff the sheets into the washer, loading the detergent into the cartridges and powering on the machine. The room’s lights aren’t even on, you’re too lazy to find them. Besides, the stark moonlight and LED of the washing machine are plenty of light enough. When you’ve set the machine to its cycle, you ponder on what the hell you can do with no bedsheets to aid in your sleep and your body covered in sweat.

Even if you are hotter than before, sweatier than before, slumber takes a toll on your body. Your head feels weighted, drowsy from your hard climax. You think a shower would work best, turning to go back into your room for a change of clothes when you bump into something, rather someone.

You shriek and take cover under your raised arms, a soft glow of white light sifting through the crack of your arms as the washroom lights get flickered on. Raising your head out of the shield of your arms, you find Jungkook standing in front of you, void of a shirt and clad by only a pair of boxers.

“Jungkook, what the fuck?” You can’t help it, your eyes wander, rake him from head to toe. You can see it, the ever so light outline of a bulge, something that is definitely nowhere near a micropenis.

“I was just...about to shower. I’m sorry- I didn’t know you would be out here, I would’ve worn more clothes” His gaze is soft with worry and you’re reminded of your earlier outburst. It was quite hypocritical of yourself when you’ve just fucked yourself on a sex toy to scandalous thoughts of him. His eyes flickers to the low drone of the washer and then back to you. “You’re doing laundry?”

Your cheeks flush, your voice hitching in your throat as you promptly pull up an excuse as to why you’re doing laundry at nearly two in the morning. “I-I spilled some tea on my sheets, I have to wash them.” You hope it’s convincing enough. “I was about to shower too.”

Jungkook regards you carefully, expecting a scolding for even asking but it never comes. You’re flustered and painted a shade of red he is familiar with. He’s only familiar with it because he too is the same shade of red. You two had been pleasuring yourselves, separately yet simultaneously. The memory almost brings a fresh wave of lust.

“Why are you showering at-” you glance at the time on your phone, “-one o’clock at night?” Jungkook doesn’t expect this question from you. You had never been interested in anything he did other than if it was something bothersome to scold over. He clears his throat and uses his slender fingers to push his hair back. You reckon he’ll need a haircut soon.

“I was exercising in my room.” Technically, masturbation was a certain form of exercise…  

The air is stiff, you feel it. It crosses both of your minds, had you heard one another? Was it obvious? You shift on the balls of your feet, teeth crashing down on your bottom lip. “Well, who’s gonna shower first?” You eye his practically unclad figure. It’s impossible to not take notice of the Adonis belt that leads your vision straight to his casual bulge. You look away. “Technically I was here first.”

Jungkook chuckles and pokes the inside of his cheek with a tongue. “Technically this is your house too, right?”

Your head drops to the ground, a shameful pout crossing over your features. Perhaps you were too harsh earlier, but you may just be feeling this way from the endorphins.

You go against the wish for a shower, it’s the least you can do. “I’ll be sleeping on the couch tonight, just letting you know. Please don’t make food at some obscure hour of the night or I will kill you.” With that, you push past him, your shoulder knocking against his arm as you head towards the living room.

To Jungkook, there’s something so beguiling about your clear disdain for him. He merely observes you from where he stands, feeling another rush of blood make way to his cock. How could you so ignorantly disregard that you had just been touching yourself? Did you really not know he could hear you? It baffles him, leaves him with another hard-on as he turns away, closing the washroom door behind him before he’s turning on the shower.

Today, you’ve had a shitty day.

Kim Taehyung has put in his two weeks' notice. He’s quitting this job to move halfway across the world and live with his girlfriend abroad and your boss had informed you one of your very own clients have committed tax fraud, costing your firm thousands. Along with this, you’ve spilled coffee over your white button-up and the hair tie holding your crisp bun up had snapped to unleash your unbrushed, unwashed owl’s nest.

When you walk into the apartment, you almost don’t want to look at your reflection in the mirror. It was strategically placed in the foyer by Seokjin, his scientific reasoning behind it being so he could start a positive day by looking at himself one last time before leaving the house. This logic seems like bullshit to you now. Your hair is a lion’s mane, your black bra visible against the translucent, chestnut coffee stain on your chest and your face is shiny from the amount of sweat you’ve had building up throughout the day from this sweltering heat.

Kicking off your heels, you take notice that Jungkook’s Pumas don’t take their usual occupancy on the shoe rack. This means he’s not home and this means, he wouldn’t be seeing you in this state. Relief floods over you.

Somewhere prior to the halfway point of Jungkook’s stay, your animosity for his presence seems to have expired ever so slightly. Perhaps it had to do with your newfound liking towards him from your late-night fantasies, or maybe it was because he had actually been putting more effort into working around the house as of late.

You barely see him now, and when you do, he’s usually made your food along with his own or he’s left you sticky notes telling you he’s taken out the garbage for you or cleaned the washroom. It has warmed your rigid heart but only to an extended degree.

Carding your fingers through your hair, you tame as much of it as you can before you’re unbuttoning your dress shirt and letting the air dry it out. Your bra feels slick against your skin, the mixture of coffee and sweat too unbearable. You unclip it from behind and toss it onto the bar stool by the kitchen island.

After opening the fridge for a can of iced tea, you walk over to the pantry for a snack to accompany the icy, perspiring drink. But before you can make it, you suddenly take notice of it, the twinkling mound of silverware against the sunlight seeping through the windowpane. You look down at the small pile of unwashed cutlery in the stainless steel sink, an inferno flickering in your chest.  

The feeling crawls back, the feeling of wanting to reinforce your disapproval of him. It’s an emotional memory, screaming at you to go back to your familiar disdain, to a more comfortable habit. Or maybe it’s your horrible day, everything bad that’s happened leading up to this breakdown. You feel like an overly emotional pregnant lady, getting fired up over unwashed spoons and forks but you can’t push it down. You’re seeing red.

A click is heard from the bathroom down the hall, followed by the tune of a cheerful whistle. You wrap the open ends of your shirt around your chest, crossing your arms as you stand in the kitchen and await the figure’s emergence from the shadowy refuge of the hallway. Jungkook now appears at the mouth of the hall, one arm rubbing a small towel against his wet hair and the other clutching the towel hanging off his hips. Upon seeing you, his whistle abruptly drops.

“Hey,” he begins nervously. “I didn’t know you’d be home—”

The words come out of you like rapid-fire, all “good deeds” he’s ever done as a roommate escaping through the vents. “You…” You begin, and he winces. “Do you see this?” You point to the sink. “How fucking hard is it to wash your own forks and spoons? Fuck, I’m so tired of picking up after you!”

You’re really unable to stop yourself, weeks of pent-up frustrations just now unleashing, lashing against the boy with such vigor, you can see a gulp send his Adam's apple to a bob. “For the record, if you’re going to smoke, do it the absolute farthest away from the apartment- I cannot stand the scent of fake strawberries and watermelon anymore.” Your arm motions towards the hallway, your foot stomping with it. Jungkook’s gaze very briefly strays to your shirt that unravels, just barely covering your breasts. Were you not wearing a bra?

“For every shower you take after the initial one, you have to set aside two dollars extra towards the water bill and for the love of all things holy, please start eating dinner at a reasonable time- you make it impossible to like you when I’m forced to wake up at two in the morning almost every single night.” With one push off the counter, you’re off towards the hallway to your bedroom, the heat of Jungkook’s stare burning into the back of your skull as you pass by him.

Jungkook sighs.

“I try, you know.” His quiet words halt you in your steps. “I knew you never liked me but I never knew why...that much was always a mystery. It never stopped me from trying to be the best damn roommate you’re ever going to have.” You twist around, taking in his stance. Now his arms are crossed, the towel once on his head now draped over his arm. “And yet you still hate me.”

You’re disarmed, mouth suddenly dry as you take in his words. Jungkook continues. “I...I just don’t get it- and I have to admit it’s a little disheartening,” He takes an idle step forward. “I don’t know what to expect from you- one moment you’re scolding me and the next…” His eyes trail to the exposed delve between your breasts, carefully covered underneath your unbuttoned shirt. You coil into yourself, wrapping your shirt over your chest again as you shift your gaze to the marks of ink blossomed over his skin. “And the next you’re staring at me.” Steadily dragging his gaze back up towards your eyes, he smirks and speaks again. “Kind of like you’re staring right now.”

If there’s one thing you hate the most, it’s being called out. Your pride is wounded and you rise to the challenge, huffing a bemused breath. You shoot back with faux scorn. “I’m only staring because you’re practically naked in front of me. Have you no decency in the presence of a woman?” This makes Jungkook cock an eyebrow, and he finds himself closing more distance between the two of you.

He laughs, mirthless but nonetheless amused by your rebuke. “Usually in the presence of a woman like you, decency is the last thing on my mind.” Leisurely, you’re losing each other in one another’s gaze.

You scoff. “Like me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t play coy, you and I both know you’re not near as good as you think you are.”

This statement catches you off guard, wholeheartedly. Your breath hitches in your throat as your eyes flicker between the towel that’s barely clinging around his waist to his eyes that have seemingly darkened, ablaze with something akin to salacity. Jungkook licks his lips, the length of his damp hair sending a tiny trickle of water down the side of his face. “And that doesn’t even count all the weird shit I’ve heard in this house.” Now you’re the one gulping, frozen in place as he takes another step closer. “You moan in your sleep, you moan when you touch yourself at night...” Your eyes widen in horror, he had heard you that night and possibly every night after that.

“I’ll never forget what your friend said on the phone, you know. With lips like that…you make it impossible to forget anything about you.”

Shit.

He’s gotten closer, much closer. With anyone else, the lack of distance between you would be nothing short of uncomfortable and unwanted, but you find yourself pulled towards him. The closing of the gap between you is mutual, and before you have a chance to shoot back a reply, his lips are hovering above yours. “Pretty lips that make pretty noises.” And then, his mouth is on yours.

Your knees nearly give out.

Before anything else, you’re filled with shock, an invasive shock. How could he be doing this?

He… He’s…he’s actually a pretty good kisser. You’re swept away, his arms cocooning around you. His lips pillow against your own, his tongue the taste of mint.

Jungkook is damp from his shower, his skin slick and cool under your touch as you slide your arms around his neck. This motion beckons you closer, pushing your lips harder against his. He walks you backwards and you follow suit, mouths remaining on one another as your back hits the wall right next to your bedroom door. There is absolutely no turning back now.

His hands are sliding down your body, feeling every curve of your body underneath his palms as he squeezes and kneads until he’s reached your ass. You moan into his mouth when he grabs handfuls of your bottom, a calculated grip that he uses to push your pelvic bone against his growing erection. This invites his tongue into your parted mouth, taking in the taste of yours into his own. They cushion around each other, a synchronous valse that only grows the moisture in between your legs. You feel his want for you build against your stomach, the thickness that lays just beyond his towel.

Jungkook’s teeth find the plump of your bottom lip, a gentle gnaw at the flesh before he’s tugging at it. The whimper you let out only elicits a growl to emit from his chest, the hands on your ass now sliding up your sides until they’re cupping your face. It’s then that his clear want for you becomes evident, a taut prominence poking against your stomach.

“M’Jungkook…” You whimper into his mouth, his right hand moving from your cheek to the base of your neck. You gasp as his palm pushes against your sternum, the fingers wrapped around your neck tightening in the slightest as you’re pushed farther against up against the wall. Jungkook hums in response, his lips relentless against your own.

His mouth works in precise vigour against your own. It’s as if he has been starved of this moment for too long, days, weeks of holding himself back. You can’t stop yourself either, not quite being able to comprehend the happenings of this exact moment. Nights of pleasuring yourself to the thought of your roommate and here you two are, your cunt seemingly progressing into an ocean of slick and his cock ready to be smothered in it.

Jungkook pulls away, and when you get a chance to look at him, his cheeks are powdered in a shade of rose, his lips marginally swollen from your heated kissing and his eyes ablaze with a craving you can’t even describe. “Not so smart with that mouth now, are you?”

You swallow thickly, words failing you. Your eyes glance towards the roses stoic on his neck. Oh, how you’d like to lick over them. The situation is beyond words, and you reckon if it hadn’t been, that actions still would fare far better than words.

Jungkook drops to his knees in front of you and fiercely grabs your hips. You inhale sharply, head dropping as your fingers instinctively grasp for purchase against his impossibly broad shoulders. They’re marked with feathers that lead down his biceps in the shape of wings. You can’t help but dig in, your nails leaving thin red crescents slashing across the ink as your back rests against the wall.

“You think you can get away moaning my name every night?” He groans, alternating between breaths and kisses around your pelvis, slowly moving past your navel. His fingers hook around the belt loops in your pants, his free hand eagerly tugging down your zipper. With precision, he pulls your pants down until you’re clad in only your underwear. Thank God, you chose today of all days to wear a thong. The baby pink silk, smooth underneath his fingertips. Jungkook looks up at you wishfully, his doe eyes radiating a boyish innocence that contradicts the ink littering his skin. But then he speaks, his voice a soft growl.

“I hope you taste as delicious as you look,” he says, not doubting for a second that you won’t as he bites the elastic of your thong. You are breathless; it’s hard not to be when Eros himself is between your legs, yearning for a taste of your dripping sex.

Your breath catches in your throat, Jungkook’s thumb skimming down your pubic bone to where you want, need it the most. You shiver as he circles against your clit through the cloth, a purposeful pressure that has you tightening your grip on his shoulders. He can feel the moisture against the fabric, your arousal clinging against the material.

“I didn’t even have to touch you and you’re already this wet for me, baby?” He licks his lips, fingers running up and down your thighs. The nickname baby stays with you, lingers and only soaks you further. You roll your head back against the wall, letting his fleeting fingers latch around the band of your thong before you feel them being tugged down your legs.

It’s almost instinctive for you to want to cross your leg over the other, to keep Jungkook from seeing you so bare and needy for him. But of course, Jungkook doesn’t let this happen. He kisses your right hip bone before tracing a bold lick diagonally down to your pelvis. Your fingers rub against his shoulders, one hand gliding up the back of his head to comb through the mass of his damp dark curls.

Jungkook hikes one of your legs over his shoulder, letting the balm of your foot rest against the delve of his back as he spreads you above him. A broad hand pushes your hip back against the wall, the one leg you’re balanced on steady underneath his aiding grip. He uses his free hand to run his second and third digit up and down your wet folds. You shiver.

He looks up at you once more. This time, a lopsided smug grin adorns his face as he beams you a set of perfect teeth, the familiar indents of his dimples marking against his lower cheeks. “I’m going to make you come so hard.” You’re moaning in response to this, leg wavering as you feel the slide of Jungkook’s forefinger push into you. He hums in appreciation, your tightness inviting the chafe of his finger. He places a chaste kiss just above your pubic bone as he begins a slow rhythmic pump of his finger.

“Fuck,” you breath out, the ridges of his calloused digit filling you far greater than your own ever has. You can’t even begin to imagine how his dick will feel, your fingers laced into his hair tightening their hold as well.

It’s when you feel the point of Jungkook’s deft tongue stroke against your clit that you cry out, his hand gripping your hip harder against the wall as he feels you waver above him. Your eyes flutter to a close, letting him have his way with you against his tongue. He uses it mercilessly, flicks pointed and dexterous against your clit as his finger pushes in and out of your tight heat. “Oh my god, Jungkook.” He inserts another finger and you nearly lose yourself.

Your eyes are rolled back, your hips involuntarily jerking away from Jungkook’s grip as they push forward in search of more of his mouth. You feel it bubbling inside you, each stroke of his fingers and each swirl of his tongue making it impossible for you to focus on anything else but this feeling. He laps around your clit, strict and continuous. When you open your eyes to look down, you see his gorgeous hair enveloped in the thread of your fingers. You’ve never been eaten out against a wall like this and it only adds more to your impending undoing.

Jungkook’s digits move quicker now, with each pump comes a curl that elicits the neediest of whimpers to fall past your lips. He feels his cock twitch with every sound you make, a melodic hymn to his ears. He alternates between sharp flicks and taking the whole of your clit with his mouth in a gentle siphon. This time there is no barrier of a wall between the two of you, this time he can hear you as vividly as he hears the tits chirp outside his window every morning and this time, you are not using a vibrator on yourself, he’s fucking you with his tongue.

He can feel you tightening against his fingers, your walls clenching unimaginably tight around him with every stroke. You are close, so very close and the feel of his relentless tongue lapping around your clit along with his slender fingers has you seeing nothing but the ceiling above you. Jungkook picks up the pace of his tongue as well, his head moving in vigour as he fervently pushes the wet muscle against your bead.

He senses it coming before you do, his tongue and fingers in a violent rhythm. You jerk above him, your hold on his hair impossibly tight as you let yourself go, crying out his name from your orgasm. He feels your squirt spray out of you, it coats his mouth and chin, sprinkling even to his chest as you shake above him. Jungkook does not stop, digits pumping even faster, tongue continuing their assault.

You chant his name as you writhe underneath his grasp. The sensation becomes too much within seconds of your orgasm but somehow his persistence makes it feel as if you can come all over again.

“J-jungkook p-please,” you beg, your fingers unraveling from his hair and tightening onto his shoulders as you try to push him away. He follows suit, unlatching his mouth from your heat before languidly rising to his feet.

When you look at him, his lips are swollen and painted in your clear arousal, your squirt coating down the cleft of his chin, streaming his neck and sprinkled across his chest. It matches his damp hair, uniform with the wetness of his previous shower.

“You...just...squirted. All over me.” You can’t quite tell if this statement holds aversion at first. Truth be told, you’ve never squirted from a man’s tongue against you.

Jungkook steps closer. “Do you know how fucking hot that was?” You don’t know, but Jungkook is taking your hand into his and placing it over it his very hard bulge. You gasp at the feel underneath your palms, unyielding to your touch. It’s far greater of a bulge than you’ve ever felt before.

You smell yourself on him, a faint fragrance that you taste when Jungkook leans forward to kiss you with greed. His mouth his sticky, kisses lingering against your lips. When he pulls away, his fingers glide over the knot that holds his towel up. You watch him, eagerly as he pulls at the twist, letting the towel to fall to the floor with a soft thud.

Fuck.

Holy fuck.

“Oh my god,” you catch yourself saying out loud.

Jungkook is big. Larger, thicker than you could have ever imagined. An erect serpentine that lays firmly in his hand as he takes the base of his cock in his palm, you can’t look away. You gulp, eyes flickering between his daunting length and his growing smirk. Your mouth suddenly feels parched, a tentative tongue poking through the seams of your lips to swipe over your lips. Something about him not using the towel to directly wipe off your squirt makes your stomach flip with somersaults, so aroused by the idea of him wearing your ograsm on him with pride.

Jungkook twirls his forefinger in the air. “Turn around,” he commands and you oblige, twisting your body as you lay the flat of your palms against the cool wall. Jungkook pulls at your hips, mumbling words of profanities as your ass grinds against his thick erection. He already feels so full against your heat.

Kicking your legs open and apart, his feet stand in between yours, making it impossible for you to close them. He places a kiss against your shoulder, your forehead rested flush to the wall as a tender hand kneads at the cheek of your ass. He spanks it once, the echo of both the slap and your yelp of surprise travelling down the hall.

Hot and heavy against the shell of your ear, his damp hair tickles your neck as he whispers. “Think you can take it, baby?”

“Y-yes.” Your answer is short and breathless, hips instinctively grinding against him for further proof of your want. This earns you another spank and Jungkook is taking the base of his cock in one hand, spreading your cheeks with his free hand as he lines up to your cunt.

He nudges past your folds with his head, speaking in a low growl. “Good girl. Now let’s hear you scream.” He pushes in.

The stretch of his tip pressing into you tingles with a sizzling burn, the pressure that follows has your fingers curling against the wall and an arm reaching back to grasp onto Jungkook’s hip.

He takes your offering hand, interlocking your fingers together as he pushes another inch into you before pulling back out. He lets you adjust, your mixed moans echoing throughout the hallway as he juts his head forward to fill you once again.

His girth pinches against your walls, deliciously so and Jungkook pauses every couple of moments to let you feel every inch fill you until he’s reached the hilt.

He lets your hand go and you bring it back to press against the wall in aid of holding you up. “That’s it, baby...take every inch of it.” His voice is low, husky, something so carnally divine in the clip of his syllables that it has you rolling your head back. “You’re doing so fucking good. Does it feel good?”

“Y-yes,” you say as you exhale shakily.

He rolls out of you, his name just on the edge of your tongue before he’s thrusting forward to have it spill out of your mouth. The velvet smooth feel of Jungkook’s cock mixing with your slick arousal makes the pinching sensation come to an ease. He’s swearing behind you, alternating between muttered profanities and guttural moans.

“So. Fucking. Tight. You feel so good, baby, taking me so well.” His fingers are firmly grasping onto your hips, his thrusts now beginning a steady rhythm as he steadily fucks you against the wall. Jungkook’s girth knocks the breath out of you, a full pressure that fills your tight cunt so satisfyingly, you almost lose yourself a second time within minutes from your first orgasm.

Jungkook is panting behind you, fingers surely leaving bruises against your skin as he speeds his hips to pound into you. He loosens his grip, three of his digits tracing a line down your spine before cutting around your waist and hovering above your clit. “Come again for me, baby. One more time, squirt for me.” It’s with these words that you decide, you don’t want to squirt on the floor once more, you want to squirt on him, on top of him.

“W-wait.” You reach your arm back, pressing the flat of your hand to his hip in a gesture to stop. He stills immediately.

“Did I hurt you?” The worry in his voice only causes you to release a breathless laugh, shaking your head no in reassurance.

“I want to ride you.” How could Jungkook ever say no to that? Without a beat of hesitance, he slides out of you, taking his cock in his hand before lightly tapping the head against each of your cheeks. Gripping your waist, he spins you to face him, a dimpled smile greeting you as you reach his gaze.

“Mm, is that so?” He asks and you nod, returning his smile. The dim glow of sunlight pouring into the hallway allows you to see the glowy sheen of his sweat and your arousal glimmer against his face and chest, enhancing his tattoos. The dampness of his curls have dried but a new layer of perspiration forms a film over his forehead.

You take Jungkook’s hand in yours, leaning forward to place a chase kiss on his lips before you’re leading him into your bedroom. You walk him backwards, your hands on his shoulders and his eyes focused nowhere but on yours. It’s when the back of his knees knock against the edge of your bed that he’s forced to have a seat.

He expects you to straddle him, you see it in the glimmer of his doe eyes but instead, you drop to your knees in front of him, arms separating his inked thighs apart. This takes Jungkook by surprise, he cocks his head to the side, an eyebrow raising in question.

You hands glide up and down his legs, a grin stretching across your face as you lean forward and place a gentle peck to the base of his thick cock. Jungkook hums in satisfaction, eyes holding a challenge as he watches you with great concentration.

The pink of his head looks all too inviting as you take his cock in your hands. As you do so, Jungkook’s hands roam up your arms before they’re resting on each of your shoulders. He benignly grips at the tense muscles of your shoulders, thumbs moving in circles over your skin. “You’re tense.” He vocalizes.

“You’re fucking huge.” You hit back, eyes wide and mouth salivating at the heaviness in your grasp. It’s tacky, coated in you as you swipe a thumb over the head and Jungkook hisses above you. When you look up at him, his dark eyes are speared to your movements, teeth gritted. You begin moving your hands up and down his length.

“You can take it in your mouth, can’t you?” The tone in his voice depicts a challenge and your ears nearly perk in interest. Of course you can take him in your mouth. You lean forward, Jungkook’s broad hands leaving the expanse of your shoulders to slide up the sides of your head. His fingers comb your hair back, pulling it into a makeshift ponytail. The movement flexes the muscles on his inked biceps and you have to admit to yourself that he looks so fucking good.

Jungkook is all too eager as he watches you, the flat of your tongue sticking out to lick around the rim of his head. He chokes back a groan, grip on your hair tightening. You stretch your mouth as wide as you can, a discomfort to your movement as you engulf the whole of his head with your tongue. Jungkook inhales a sharp breath, fingers threaded into your hair as he eases you down to take more of him.

You wrap your lips around the velvet tip, beginning a slow suction. “Fuck,” Jungkook mumbles from above you, shifting on the mattress, watching you. “Open wider, baby.” You do as asked, jaw already sore from the girth of his head alone. He pushes his hips off the mattress in the slightest, grip on your hair firm as he thrusts more of himself into your mouth.

You’re careful not to let your teeth graze over the skin of his cock, your fingers tightening around his length before you start to twist your wrists and continue sucking. Jungkook is careful to be gentle with you, very tenderly urging his cock to fill more of your mouth. It shocks you when you feel the blunt of his head hit the cap of your airway, eliciting a gag.

Jungkook pulls out a millimeter before he’s pushing back in, teeth gritted and eyes focused. Your mouth looks so pretty stuffed with his cock; it’s almost as pretty as your cunt taking him to the hilt.

Another gag rumbles out of you and vibrates against his member, this time, Jungkook being the one to moan. His hips stutter in shallow thrusts into your mouth and you feel the sting of tears threatening to blur your vision.

The sounds of your gagging bounces off the walls of your bedroom, followed by the guttural moans of Jungkook as he fucks your mouth. Each thrust of his hips causes the head of his cock to push past your airway.

You release your hold around his length, fingers thickly coated in your own saliva as you find purchase of the flesh of his thighs. You let him have his way with you, your mouth stretched as wide as you can physically make it and a single thread of a tear rolling down your cheek. You look up through the flutters of your eyelashes, pleased to see the Adam’s apple in Jungkook’s throat bob up and down while his head is thrown back in pleasure.

The sudden pull of his cock from your mouth comes with a light ‘pop’ followed by you gasping for air. Using his hold on your hair, he jerks your hair back so you’re forced to look up at him. He hungrily latches his lips onto yours, sloppy and wet with a relentless tongue that intrudes your mouth.

You slide your hands over his thighs, towards the ridges of muscles on his abdomen as he helps you rise to your feet. Your right palm travels up his chest, your other arm circling around Jungkook’s neck as you let him grab a handful of your ass. With a persuasive lift, he places you on his lap, your legs wrapping around his torso as his mouth remains on yours.

“M’let me ride m’you,” you gasp in between kisses, Jungkook’s toned arms looping around your waist as he shuffles closer to the edge of the mattress.

“Yeah?” He moves from your mouth to the edge of your jaw.

“Please.” Jungkook loosens his grip around your waist, letting you rest the front of your calves on either side of him. You situate yourself, raising your hips as your hand finds his still, very erect length to line against your core.

“Look at you so needy for my cock, don’t hate me so much anymore?” The smugness in his tone only grants him a glare from you, a chuckle following his tease. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m in need of you too.” You have noticed, his massive cock hasn’t wavered in want in the slightest since he first kissed you.

You huff a breath. “I never hated you.” Rubbing his head a few times over your sex, you finally sink down onto it, your cunt eagerly taking in his head. You gasp at the feel of this new position, his length gliding in much smoother with your previous practice. “You just need to start washing your fucking dish- ah!” You cry out, hands fumbling to grasp at his shoulders as Jungkook juts his hips up, slamming into you. His girth stretches your walls once again and he feels so fucking delicious in you like this. Quite frankly, you’re unsure if you’ll be able to go back to an average sized penis ever again.

“Mm, I should keep pissing you off if it means I get to shut you up like this.” His voice hitches at the last word as you pick your hips up and ram yourself back down onto his cock. You both moan at this, your arms once again looping around Jungkook’s neck as his hands firmly grip your hips in guidance.

Your teeth clash as you kiss him with each bounce of your hips, the position more so letting you gently rock over his cock. Your clit rubs against his skin with each roll of your hips, making sure you alternate between circling your hips and bouncing on his cock. Jungkook is losing himself, you know this because he holds you tightly, firmly as he lets you take control. You ride him hard and slow, the pre crescendo to his coming end.

“Come for me, Jungkook,” You moan against the shell of his ear, legs losing stamina as you try to keep a rhythmic pace. But Jungkook doesn’t want to finish just yet, he wants you to come again too.

You yelp as he slides his hands under your ass, lifting you off him before he’s throwing you onto the mattress so you’re on your back. He stands up, above you at the edge of your bed, taking your knees in the crevice of his elbows before yanking you towards him.

“Where is it?” He gruffs, fingers gripping your waist.

“What?”

“Your vibrator, where is it?” If you weren’t flushed already from Jungkook’s cock, you’d be blushing at his knowledge that you even had one. You stretch your arm above you, fingers reaching underneath a pillow where you usually keep it hidden. Grasping the device in hand, you bring it out, idly waving it in front of the ink-skinned boy. He grins, the youthful boy-like glint returning in the doe of his eyes as he releases your leg from the arm that extends to retrieve it from you.

Inspecting the controls, he finds the power button, clicking it on. A low buzz fills the room. the words that follow leaving you breathless again.

“Ah...now there’s the noise I like to hear every night.” Clicking it back off, Jungkook places it carefully next you before hooking your leg back around his elbow, hoisting your hips up. You watch with eager eyes as he pokes his tongue past his lips, letting a string of saliva drizzle carefully over his cock. He smooths the slick over his cock, letting it coat the entirety of his length before he’s guiding his head against your opening.

He gently slaps his head against your clit before rubbing against it, letting your arousal build once more. You shift your hips in impatience, fingers gripping tightly against your sheets. Jungkook leans down towards your mouth, claiming your lips once more, hard and deep. He tastes of sweat and your arousal, a tinge of salt that you lick away. When he pulls away, he’s pushing his cock into you again.

The curve of his dick hits differently with this position, now he has more control with hitting just the right spots. He’s slow at first, frustrating slow as if he’s testing each stroke of his hips to see how you react. When he’s surging forward until he’s got an inch remaining, you’re crying out loud.

“Here?” He asks and you nod profusely, words unable to form on your tongue. Jungkook pushes even deeper, another cry escaping your lungs at the new fullness. Your grip around your sheets grow tighter, teeth harshly biting down on your lip as he begins steady rock in and out of you.

You’ve never been filled so well like this, his cock hitting every surface area of your inner walls as he stretches you delectably with each roll of his hips. He fucks into you, hard and deep, changing from circling his hips to pistoning into you with no mercy. He talks filth into the air, profanities and moans chased by the sounds of skin slapping as he relentlessly plummets into you.

He can feel you about to come, the pressure of your clenched walls tightening around him to un unprecedented degree. With each thrust, your cunt only eagerly invites him back in, needy for his spurts of cum. This is when Jungkook grabs the vibrator he placed beside you, thumb quick to power the device on. You yelp and mewl as he places the silicone tip against your clit, the vibration ringing through both of you. The sensation is overwhelming, the girth of his cock mixed with the jolts of your stimulated clit leave you near screaming his name. You shake underneath him, legs quivering as you feel the rise of your orgasm build through your entire body.

“You can squirt again, baby. I know you can. I know you want to.” Your body jerks and still as the combination of one more thrust and the vibe hit you exactly where you need it to, to come undone. Jungkook doesn’t fight it, the pressure of your squirt pushing his cock out of your tightness. “That’s it, darling, so fucking hot.” He keeps the vibrator on you and you whimper, releasing the clutch of the sheets as you flail your arms towards the vibrator in an attempt to push it away from you. Jungkook does not budge.

“P-please, fuck, Jungkook...it’s too much, please.” He does not stop, watching you with intent as your body shakes underneath his control of the vibrator. He knows you can come again.

“One more time.” Your legs are desperately trying to clamp shut but Jungkook expertly holds your legs apart with his torso as he continues assaulting your clit with the silicone. It buzzes against you, rings through your entire body and within minutes you’re coming all over again. It’s so intense, you nearly black out, your voice clamouring to a scream of Jungkook’s name.

He turns it off and throws it somewhere on the mattress before he’s sliding into you with ease. He fucks your squirt back into you with a push of his cock.

This time, Jungkook wastes no time. This time, he drills into you, clamping your legs together as he pushes them forward until your knees hit your chest. This position allows him to go deeper, watching your cunt swallow every inch of his cock with greed along with every thrust of his hips. He feels his orgasm rapidly approaching.

Each snap of his hips become sloppier, his laboured breathing sporadic as his fingers dig harshly into your calves.

“Where do you want me to come?” He rasps, pulling your legs apart once more.

“I-inside me, please.” Your words elicit a mumbled fuck from him followed by a groan. You watch him through lidded eyes, your head thick and heavy from your plentiful of orgasms. Jungkook looks like the God of sex himself above you, sweat dribbling down his forehead, his dark long waves spilling over his eyes, his inked chest glistening and his muscles flexing with every grind of his hips into you. He is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. “Come, Jungkook,” you coo, egging him to come undone. “Come inside me.”

With the last phrase, his hips stutter and still before he’s gasping for a breath as he spills himself into you. He shouts your name, voice getting caught in his throat. He steadily moves again, milking every last drop of himself inside of you as your walls achingly aid him.

As he comes to a stop, the room is filled with nothing but the sounds of your mixed heavy panting. Jungkook leans forward, pressing a heavy kiss against your lips before he’s pulling away from your mouth and away from your cunt. He watches, mesmerized as his cum dribbles out of you. It’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen, your tight cunt filled to the brim with his seed.

“Fuck,” he pants, reaching his arm out to help you sit up. You roll your head forward into your palms, the rush of dopamine pounding into your skull with a massive headache. “You okay?” He asks and you nod your head, face still encompassed by your hands.

“You...should piss me off more often.” Jungkook chuckles at this. When you look up from your hands, his wavy locks have a newfound dampness, beads of sweat encompassing his tattooed chest. He’s grinning, a lopsided grin that leaves you with a warm feeling pounding in your chest. 

Jungkook offers you a hand, guiding you off the bed. You take it, letting him pick you up to your feet with the strength of his biceps. 

“Yeah, yeah I should.” You’re both walking out your bedroom and towards the shower.

Seokjin wears nothing but a grimace at the kitchen island as he watches you and Jungkook coo at each other. He’s just returned from his trip abroad, hands crossed over his chest as he observes the blasphemy before his eyes. Jungkook is by the stove, flipping the last of Seokjin’s steak and you’re beside him preparing a salad on the counter.

“Disgusting.” Seokjin scowls. “I leave for three months and this happens?” He scoffs at the thought of the two of you cooking him steak for dinner, as if it would break the bearer of this terrible, awful news. You two are now dating. His best friend and his roommate- to Seokjin, it’s an ultimate betrayal.

You sigh and roll your eyes, setting your freshly made salad in front of him as Jungkook brings over a sizzling pan of steak. He wears a grin on his face, a grin that matches yours before you’re leaning on your tiptoes to kiss against the indented dimple against his lower cheek. Seokjin nearly gags at this.

He truly thought he’d be rid of you as soon as this lease had ended but here you were, snogging who he thought to be his best friend. He thinks he’ll have to burn his mattress too.

“Great,” he says, deadpan, picking up his knife and fork. “I’m stuck with you forever now.” With the greatest of fake enthusiasm, he musters a disingenuous smile and angrily digs into his steak.

He hates that it’s delicious. 

all rights reserved © jeongi

a/n: HEWWOOOO. how u feeling!? 🥴i REALLY!!! did not expect this fic to be so long holy shit im so sorry, i went out of control!!!! this was very loosely based off real-life events that were then fuelled by jungkook’s lotte concert look. and badda bing, badda boom, a 13k fic of pure smut is born and i am wholly unashamed of myself. i really hope you enjoyed reading this filth, it was very fun for me to write!!! please let me know what you think and as always, thank you for reading and i love youuuu 💞

[thr-333]

Just Another Class Trip :) Part 5

If you don’t get to fight Batman on your class trips I feel sorry for you because Marinette did and she had a great time. Besides from the fact the miracle box went missing that was kind of a downer.

First< Previous >Next

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“Marinette Dupain-Cheng!” Chloe yells at her, Marinette pops her head up through the trash, “Just what do you think you’re doing?!”

“I’m looking for something Chlo,” Marinette tries not to betray the panic in her voice.

“You did not ditch us today to search the trash!” Chloe practically screeches, stomping her foot.

“Chloe! I just really, really need to find this ok?!” Chloe actually recoils at Marinette snapping at her, guilt claws at her, adding more scratches to her conscience, “Sorry, I’m just stressed,”

“You need to relax Mari,” Chloe sighs, she cant, she cant! She cant! “I will only forgive you if you come upstairs and have a shower right now ,”

Marinette glances to Tikki, who nods. They’ve searched the trash here three times over, the Miracle box isn’t here. She lets Chloe lead her upstairs, the ground feels like it's swaying under her feet. The pressure like she’s about to vomit has persisted for hours.

“I will be standing right here, so don’t even think about leaving before you are rid of that smell,” Chloe pushes her into the bathroom.

“Tikki what am I supposed to do,” Marinette curls into herself, as soon as the door closes “I looked everywhere, it-it’s gone ,”

“It’s alright Marinette I’m sure you’ll find it, you just need to think things through,” Tikki pats her arm, not blaming her even once, making everything so much worse.

“Exactly, so chin up,” Kaalki commands, Marinette listens looking at the hovering Kwami with swimming vision, “Now make a theory and we’ll work from there,”

“Only Adrien was in the apartment but he didn’t take it,” Marinette works through her thoughts, “I know he wouldn't have,”

“Good,”

“He was gone for two hours talking with Chloe and Kagami,”

“Exactly,”

“So someone stole it during that time,” Marinette had already concluded that but it was nice to lay it all out, “I thought it was Lila, but she would have just thrown it out,”

“Or,”

“Or kept it,” Marinette gets the picture, formulating a plan, “I have to search her room, as Starling they can get away with it,”

“Good I’ll transport you in there,” Kaalki nods, dipping into her bag to get a sugar cube, “Now change,”

Marinette listens and within minutes they are in Lila's room. The shower running back in Chloe's room. Starling pokes around the room, searching under the bed and in the closet. She spreads out to the whole apartment since Lila isn’t sharing with anyone.

She is opening the oven when the door opens. She freezes, coming eye to eye with Lila. In a split second Starling darts into the bathroom.

“Come out of there!” Lila bangs on the door, “Who are you! I’m calling the police!”

Marinette doesn't give her the chance, teleporting out of the bathroom.

Chloe fights to make her come to dinner that night. Marinette doesn't have the strength to argue and so is dragged along, glaring at Lila from across the table. Lila just looks smugly back, she has to know where the Miracle box is, she just has to.

“Is that the new Wayne?” Marinette hears someone across the restaurant whisper.

Wonder who they’re talking about

“The one with the pink scarf?”

Oh

“Take a picture!”

If Marinette could summon the energy she would go over and ask what they meant. Or tell them they had the wrong person. Instead she just hides her face in her arms, lying on the table.

“Head off the table,” Madame Bustier chides, Marinette listens, but doesnt bother answering.

“Oh Marinette,” Lila’s voice is so grating she is ready to send her head through the table, “You look just terrible, what happened?”

You

“Are you ok Marinette,” Rose asks, she was actually nice to Marinette either unaware of the divide or not caring, “Do you want to go back?”

Marinette supposes Lila never had to lie about her to Rose. As she was already running around after Lila trying to make sure she was comfortable, Marinette just fell by the wayside. Either way Marinette can see that changing in the near future with how livid Lila looks that Marinette got the slightest bit of positive attention.

“I know jetlag can be bad, with all my travels,” Could you get to the part where you antagonise me already? “But don’t you think you’re being a bit dramatic?

“Sure Lila,” Marinette sighs, actually getting a few shocked gasps from the class.

They all probably thought that if Lila said the sky was blue Marinette would disagree. Well she would probably double check. Plus the sky is black at night. And multicoloured during sunrise and sunset. You know what? Screw it, Marinette would not trust Lila if she said the sky is blue.

“So Lila,” Alya speaks up, “ What's the worst jet lag you’ve ever had?”

“Well..”

Marinette doesn’t bother listening. She does get the side eye from Alya.

This doesn't mean I like you

Feelings mutual buddy

However it does allow her to lean against Kagami for the rest of the night and doze off. Marinette doesn't pay anymore attention to Lila’s lies the rest of the night until it comes to getting back to the hotel. They are all piling into taxis when Lila weasels her way into getting her own. Covertly Marinette slides a hundred to the driver and sends them to a less than savoury part of town. Now it’s just up to Starling to keep up.

Luckily for her Lila decides to be an idiot, and actually gets out of the car. So Starling drops in front of her when the taxi drives off.

“You!” Lila backs up into the alley, really ?

“You stole something,” Starling stalks forward, appearing every bit of threatening as a sleep deprived guardian of the miraculous can be, which is pretty fucken scary when the Miracle box is on the line, “Where is it!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Lila tears up.

“Do not lie to me ,” Starling punctuates the threat by bending a discarded metal pipe in half.

Lila squeaks, as she backs up against the wall, Starling cages her in.

“WHERE IS IT!”

The absolute terror on Lila’s face is so gratifying for a moment. Then a cold terror runs down Marinette as Lila smiles. The same smile that promises to ruin her life every day.

“Help!” Lila cries, her voice quavering in a poor imitation of the actual fear she just saw, “Please anyone!”

Anyone turns out to be the hand on her shoulder that rips Starling back. They go to grab her arm but she flips out of their grasp, getting enough distance to come face to face with The Batman!

Before she can even think about formulating a response Batman lashes out, going straight for her gut. Starling side steps, twisting around to stand in Batman’s blind spot, making him turn to see her.

“Why are you attacking a civilian?” He demands, a knife she dodges barely grazing her cheek.

“She stole something,” Marinette drops down as he swings a punch at her head.

“That’s not true!” Lila cries, huddled up against the wall, “They broke into my hotel room today! And then they attacked me! They’re trying to kidnap me!”

“She’s lying!” Apparently that’s not convincing enough as she dodges a kick, having to roll away, thankfully towards the exit.

She tries to make a run for it, getting halfway up the fire escape of the next building when a Batarang pins her cape down. She tears it out, throwing it back at the shadow who hangs in midair.

Wow that is not aerodynamic at all

She watches as it tapers off to the side, falling to the ground. Batman swings onto the staircase of the fire escape. She dodges, she slips on a stair, losing her balance. Batman aims a punch for her sternum she has no choice but to block. It hurts getting an armoured glove full impact onto her relatively light arm guards. In her defense she never prepared to fight The Batman.

He seems to be taken aback that she is able to block his punch, or is re-planning. She takes the opportunity to use her bit of super strength to push him off the fire escape, double checking he still has his grappling hook. He falls down as she bolts up the stairs. By the time she reaches the top he is already on the roof

She has no weapons to defend herself against another Batarang. She can’t slip away like she did last time so has no choice but to dodge.

“I don’t want to fight you!” She yells, rolling out of the way of another Batarang.

“I’m sure you don’t,”

“Not like that!” There's no reasoning with him then, he made up his mind and is going to beat her before asking any questions, “You know what never mind!”

She sprints to the edge of the building. He doesn’t particularly try to stop her, after all he thinks she has no escape route. Which means he was not expecting her to jump right off the building.

“Kaalki, Full gallop,” She says quietly to her Kwami, putting on her glasses.

She transforms, opening a portal inches from the ground, she lands in her hotel bedroom. Dropping the transformation, she collapses onto the bed. She pants lungs burning, soon she realises she hasn't been taking any air.

What does she have to be stressed about? So she lost the Miracle box, an ancient treasure able to harness the gods? So it was all her fault for shirking off her duties for fun. So it was all her fault that she technically attacked a civilian without any proof. So it was her fault Batman attacked her and she’s probably a criminal now. So what?

She chokes around words, apologies to her Kwamis, to Master Fu, to everyone she has failed today. Instead her vision blurs and she has to take gasping breaths, shuddering in the warm room. She curls up on top of the blankets tucked in too tight to provide her with comfort. Too perfect, too well done, everything she isn’t.

Tikki nuzzles into her cheek, Marinette shudders out a breath, curling more into herself. Kaalki comes to rest near her heart. The magical thrum of the Kwami calming her heart beat. There are no words. There don’t need to be. There’s no one here to send Akuma after them. For once Marinette can cry, let her emotions run rampant. Then she’ll harness everything she has into protecting the Miracle box.

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