#semi-regular reminder if you thought i was normal about Them no i’m not

[curlytemple]

dan forcing phil to drink cold soup: STOPPP NO LITERALLY STOP IT THATS SO MEAN IM SERIOUS

dan choking and gagging on phil’s diy licorice flavored sparkling water: hahaha! Again!!!!!

[kesujo]

Vacation

Tags: girlxgirlxgirl, double penetration This is a continuation of 'Secrets', but it's not required to have read it to understand this. (Also, this is randomly first person POV)

Being busy is both a blessing and a curse.

On one hand, one gets stressed out. One's work starts to seep into one's private life, and finds themselves unable to enjoy the hobbies they used to enjoy. Even the more … intimate ones.

On the other hand, once a break arrives, relaxing felt much better. And after almost two straight months of busywork, many overnight shifts, and several all-nighters, we all were soo ready for a vacation.

“Why are your suitcases so small?” I asked, eyeing Tiffany’s and Taeyeon’s suitcases. Or rather, their suitcase. “I mean, we are staying at that house for a week, right?”

“Oh, this will be enough, don’t worry,” Tiffany said, closing the cover to the suitcase.

I, for some reason, was suddenly reminded of a few months back, when Tiffany and Taeyeon first proposed to ‘let me in on their secret’. “Ok, well I’m just about done packing too, so I’ll be down in a few,” I said, turning around, half to do what I told them I was going to do, half to hide the blush that was creeping onto my cheeks.

Whenever I thought about it, it seemed weird. I mean, who wouldn’t find having sex with your housemates on a semi-regular basis weird? Still, no matter how weird it seemed, it was undeniable that it always felt good. I was just glad that it didn’t affect our relationships at all.

Recently, actually, I found myself missing our normal night activities due to how busy we’ve all been. Every time I have had those thoughts, though, I had to stop myself; despite how frequently it happened, I still didn’t seem to be used to the idea. After all, both Taeyeon and Tiffany are gorgeous, and just knowing about our nightly activities made me feel … fortunate? Was that weird? I sighed and shook my head, clearing my thoughts.

I took a few minutes to finish packing and to calm myself down before going back downstairs, carefully carrying my suitcase down the steps. A few minutes later, after packing the car (which took like half a minute), we drove off.

It was only about a two-hour drive before we reached our destination. When we got there though, I could just about feel my eyes widen.

It was a huge two-story house with a lawn that could probably fit half a football field. On the other side of the house, I could just about make out tiled floor lined up against the grass and the tip for a pair of handrails to what I could only guess was a pool. “Wow, this is so big! How did you get this place?” I asked, looking around as much as I could through the window of the car.

“Ah, I just got lucky,” Taeyeon said dismissively. That made me a little suspicious, but I trusted Taeyeon enough to not question her. “The more important thing is that no one else is allowed near here, so we have this whole place to ourselves,” Taeyeon said as she pulled up to the front of the house.

“Really? Is there a lot to do here?” I inquired, stepping out of the car.

Tiffany, who was seated in the passenger seat, got out along with Taeyeon. “You’ll know when you get inside,” Tiffany said, heading towards the trunk.

Once again, I was reminded of that one night a few months ago, when Taeyeon and Tiffany. I felt my face grow hot again and averted my gaze from the other two. What was wrong with me?

After settling down and exploring the house a little bit (which, turns out, does have a pool in the backyard, equipped with a few lounge chairs a few mini-tables to put drinks on), Taeyeon set out to the kitchen to make dinner. When I suggested that I help, Taeyeon insisted that she do it alone, saying that she wanted to make dinner a surprise.

So with that, Tiffany and I took the time to explore the house. After going upstairs to check out the bedrooms, Tiffany excitedly squealed at how soft the bed looked and jumped into one. After only about a minute or so, Tiffany fell asleep, so I decided to leave her sleep and come back to wake her up when dinner was ready.

After exploring the rest of the second floor, I walked back downstairs, aimlessly walking around. Eventually, having nothing else to do, I found myself heading back to the kitchen.

“Taeyeon? Do you want help?” I asked, entering the room.

I froze as soon as I saw her. My heart suddenly started racing, and my breathing grew ragged. “Oh, you’re here Sica,” she said nonchalantly, turning around.

She was completely naked, save for an apron draped across her front. The cloth just barely covered her crotch, leaving her perfectly shaven, slim, milky white legs for show.

She smiled gently at me, as if nothing was wrong. “What’s wrong, Sica?” she asked, stepping towards me.

“U-Um, … why are you—” I was cut off as I felt a pair of arms snake around my sides and embrace me. I gasped as I felt what seemed like Tiffany’s bare breasts press against my back.

“Remember when you asked what there is to do here?” Tiffany said softly, almost breathing into my ear. I shivered as I felt her warm hands crawling under my shirt. “Here’s our answer: we’re allowed to do anything, but as long as it’s just us three on this property, none of us are not allowed to cover ourselves with anything,” she said, pulling my shirt up. I instinctively raised my arms, allowing Tiffany to pull off the shirt I was wearing.

“Wait! What?” I stammered. Tiffany slid her hands underneath my bra; I inhaled sharply, closing my eyes as I felt Tiffany’s hand being pushed against my skin by my bra.

“Of course, there are a few exceptions; if anyone comes over, we’re all allowed to put clothes on, or if you ever have to deal with heat, then you can use the apron that Taeyeon is using, but only the apron,” Tiffany continued, reaching back around to undo my bra strap.

“A-Ah…” I gasped as I felt my breasts spring free from my bra.

“Go on, open your eyes,” Tiffany said, her alluring, husky voice. I shuddered as Tiffany’s hands found the hem of my jeans. “Don’t you want to watch Taeyeon’s cute ass as she cooks?”

I opened my eyes just in time to see Taeyeon glance back at me. When she met my gaze, she grinned playfully and shook her ass. If I said that the action didn’t turn me on, I would be dead wrong.

When Tiffany had finished stripping me, she stepped away from me, releasing her embrace on me. “If we ever catch you cheating, we’re going to have to punish you, ok?” Tiffany said, slapping my butt lightly.

“Ok,” I breathed out, finally regaining control of my body.

“Sica, come here,” Taeyeon said, still standing in front of the stove. I obediently walked up to her, trying really hard not to stare at her bare ass. “Could you just stay here and accompany me?” she asked, turning to face me for a brief second. I held my breath as she did, fully aware that I was stark naked, but she turned back to the stove shortly after.

“Yeah, sure,” I replied, walking up to her and standing slightly behind her to her right. “So what’s for dinner?”

“Pasta with alfredo sauce,” Taeyeon replied. I peered into the pot, but something caught the corner of my eye.

When I saw it, I instantly regretted my decision.

The apron itself was designed to cover nothing more than her front. The string that tied it together was probably meant to tie around the midriff of a person’s body, but because of Taeyeon’s rather short figure, it was tied just above her butt, the thin string hanging loose right between her butt cheeks, almost as if framing the pair of beautiful mounds of flesh.

That wasn’t the thing that caught my eye though; because the apron was designed the way it was, the cloth followed the shape of Taeyeon’s body, protruding a bit at her breasts before gradually falling back down to cover the rest of the front of her body. However, the apron did an extremely poor job of protecting the side of her body; that is to say, I had complete vision of her sideboob.

“Like what you see?”

Taeyeon’s voice startled me, and it was only then did I realize I was staring at it. “A-Ah, I’m sorry,” I stammered, tearing my gaze away from her.

Taeyeon giggled. “It’s fine. Can you help me carry the pasta to the dining table?” she asked, scooping the last of the sauce into a plate.

“Yeah,” I said, grabbing the bigger plate. “Wait, why are there only two plates?” I asked.

“You’ll see,” Taeyeon asked, taking the apron off and setting it on a hook before grabbing the smaller plate. “Let’s go,” she said, patting my bare butt cheeks with her free hand. I flushed a little at the contact; all this time not having sex seemed to have caused me to regain sensitivity to these intimate actions.

I followed her, making sure to keep my eyes on the plate instead of Taeyeon. However, carrying the plate proved to be a little bit more troublesome than I expected.

Because I wasn’t wearing anything, my boobs bounced a little with every step I took, meaning that I had to keep the plate a good distance in front of me, or else I risked smearing the pasta or dropping the plate.

“Sica, are you ok?” I heard Taeyeon’s voice calling from the dining room.

“Yeah, I’m almost there,” I replied, entering the room.

The mahogany table draped in a white cloth was an average size, enough to seat 6 people. It was rectangular shaped but rounded at the edges, with the smaller side facing the entrance of the room. However, as I walked in, I noticed that there were only two seats located at each end of the table, with Tiffany happily sitting in at the far end.

“You’re over there, Sica,” Taeyeon said, turning around from the chair right in front of the open entrance. She must have noticed the way I was holding the plate, as she started giggling when she saw me. “Ah, I didn’t even think about that. Sorry for making you take the bigger plate,” she said, trying her best to regain her posture.

“I-It’s ok,” I replied. I shuffled over to Tiffany; feeling her gaze from the front and Taeyeon’s from the back only made me flush even more as I kept my eyes trained on the plate of pasta, finally reaching Tiffany and setting it down in front of her.

“Where—?”

“Here, Jessi,” Tiffany cut me off and answered my question immediately, patting the chair she was sitting on.

I glanced down at where she was patting, almost as an automatic reaction, and when I did, I gasped once again.

Tiffany had a thick, pink strap-on dildo fastened to her waist, pointed straight at the ceiling. “Wh-What…” I trailed off. My heart raced against my chest, almost to the point of hurting; however, it was partially because I was scared and worried—the large majority of me was feeling extremely turned on at the situation.

Tiffany smiled in reaction to me. “Right here,” she repeated, patting her seat again. “I bet this will be your first time eating while having a dildo stuffed inside your pussy,” she said, grinning mischievously, tapping the rubber tool. I could feel my nether regions respond to Tiffany’s dirty talk, but I still couldn’t bring myself to move.

“We aren’t going to start eating without you Sica,” Taeyeon’s voice chimed in from the other side of the table.

“Ar-…You’re not kidding, right?” I asked cautiously.

Tiffany shook her head. “Of course not. Come here,” she said, beckoning me with her hand. “I’ll feed you, don’t worry,” she said.

Seeing no alternative, I took a few breaths and nodded, taking careful steps towards her.

Tiffany pushed her chair back a bit more to make space for me. I felt myself slow down a bit as I neared it, eyeing the thick pseudo-cock. Will that even fit inside me anymore?

Those thoughts were blown into a blur as Tiffany grabbed my waist and pulled me towards her. “You can go as slowly as you need to,” she said as soon as I situated myself in front of her.

I nodded and took a few more deep breaths. When I felt Tiffany’s hands grip my butt cheeks and pull them apart, I bit my lip as I felt the cool, crisp air-conditioned air make contact with my unshaven vaginal opening.

Slowly and surely, I lowered myself, allowing Tiffany’s hands to guide me. When the tip of the phallic object made contact with my vagina, I bit my lip, quickly taking in a breath before lowering myself further on it.

“Ah,” I moaned involuntarily as I felt the strap-on enter me. I closed my eyes and pushed myself further down, feeling my vaginal walls stretch around the rubber shaft.

“That’s it, good girl,” Tiffany cooed, using one hand to rub my thighs while the other massaged my boobs.

“Ah, ah, … Aah fuck,” I moaned incessantly as the dildo continued to stretch my insides. I placed my hands on Tiffany’s legs, slowly working my way down the shaft. Every time the toy advanced deeper into my core, I could feel its walls stretching, trying its best to welcome the guest. I let out the occasional moan as pleasure coursed through my body; after a few minutes, with Tiffany continuing to urge me on while rubbing my thighs and boobs, I finally felt my ass make contact with Tiffany’s skin.

“Good job, Jessi,” Tiffany complimented me, using both hands to pat my legs. When I opened my eyes, I realized that Tiffany must have pushed the chair forward without me realizing as the plate was already right in front of me. Unsure of where to move my hands, I kept them planted on Tiffany’s thighs. I was vaguely aware of Tiffany’s breasts pressed against my back, but the sensation was mostly drowned out by the feeling of the thick member plugging my pussy.

Tiffany reached forward, unintentionally pushing the dildo further in me. I gasped, biting my lip once again.

As she grabbed the fork, I looked across the table to see Taeyeon’s gaze locked onto me, and seeing her facial expression made it very evident that she was extremely turned on by what just happened. I felt my face heat up again and diverted my gaze.

It was then I felt something warm touch my lips. “Open up, Jessi,” Tiffany said, hovering a fork full of pasta noodles in front of me. I obeyed and let Tiffany feed me the forkful of food.

“Wait, shouldn’t I be feeding both of us? I’m closer to the plate,” I told Tiffany as she fed herself. Tiffany reached forward again, repeating the same action and drawing out the same response from me.

Tiffany put the fork down, and after she finished chewing, she replied, “It’s not convenient for you to reach backwards. Plus, it would be such a waste of a dildo if I only stuffed it inside of you without even moving it a little bit,” she replied, reaching forward again.

This time, she caught me by surprise; when the dildo was pushed inside me again, I couldn’t help but let out a soft moan. Right after this, I felt Tiffany kiss my jawline, whispering, “Let’s see who gives in first; you, or me.”

I inhaled sharply, closing my eyes to take a few breaths to calm my aroused state as I felt my competitive side awaken. Soon after, I felt the same warm feeling on my lips. I opened my mouth, but instead of feeling the pasta inside my mouth, I suddenly felt the sauce-covered pasta noodles on my breasts.

“Ah, sorry,” Tiffany said, leaning forward to place the fork down before using her hands to pick up the strands of noodles. I could tell by the motion of her hand that she was eating the noodles that she picked off my boobs.

“It’s ok,” I replied, trying my best to control my voice as I reached up and helped her pick the noodles off myself. As I was about to put the noodles on the napkin next to the plate, Tiffany grabbed my wrist and guided my hand to her mouth. I bit my lip once again as I felt Tiffany’s lips close around my fingers, her tongue guiding the noodles into her mouth before pulling my hand out.

“Wouldn’t want to waste perfectly good food,” Tiffany told me after she had finished chewing, proceeding to resume picking the food off me as if nothing out of the ordinary happened.

I hesitantly nodded and continued to help Tiffany pick the noodles off my breasts until nothing but bits and pieces of sauce remained. “That kind of looks sexy; kind of like you have cum splattered on your boobs,” Tiffany commented, reaching forward again.

Once again, I was caught off guard by her comment and let out a moan.

It was after we had only a few forkfuls left of pasta that I finally cracked.

After the nth time Tiffany leaned forward, pushing the fake dick inside me once again, I let out a throaty growl and gripped Tiffany’s legs tightly, grinding my ass against Tiffany’s crotch, desperate for more action.

Tiffany dropped the fork and placed her hands on my inner thighs, grinding against me in response. “You lose,” Tiffany whispered against my ear, planting kisses all along my jawline and neck.

“I don’t care,” I replied, breathing heavily as I felt the rubber cock shift around inside my pussy, stretching it even further. “Fuck, just fuck me already,” I said, using Tiffany’s legs as leverage to ride her.

“Will do, princess,” she replied, moving her hands up to my boobs as she began to pump the fake cock inside me.

“A-Ah!” I closed my eyes tightly as Tiffany’s dildo started thrusting inside of me, sliding against my slick vaginal walls. “Shit! Ah … ah, Tiff …”

“Fuck Jessi, you’re so fucking sexy when you’re riding my dick like this,” Tiffany said, massaging my boobs as she continued to piston the shaft inside me.

I felt myself only grow hotter as I heard her.

“Ah, can you guys be quiet? I’m actually going to start masturbating right here if you guys make me any hornier,” I heard Taeyeon whine from across the table.

Remembering that Taeyeon was in the room with us, I felt my face flush; however, I didn’t even slow down as I started to feel a familiar sensation.

However, after a few minutes, Tiffany wrapped her legs around mine and pinned me to the chair, stopping all motion.

“Wha—Why?” I whined. The sudden stop in activity, combined with how horny I was feeling, caused me to feel extremely frustrated; I tried to fight against Tiffany’s hold, but it only caused a slight rattling sound.

“Let’s make a deal first. For every forkful of pasta you eat, we’ll continue for about a minute,” Tiffany offered.

I nodded hastily, taking a few breaths to try to calm myself back down. Tiffany once again leaned forward, gathered up the noodles at what seemed like a painstakingly slow pace, and fed herself before feeding me.

“Finish chewing first,” Tiffany told me. “I’ll verify myself once you tell me you’re done.”

At that moment, I was feeling so impatient and aroused that I could barely taste the pasta or the sauce. After swallowing the last bit of pasta, I informed her that I was done.

She then turned my head with her hand and leaned forward, planting her lips onto mine. She then proceeded to push her tongue into my already open mouth, exploring it briefly before breaking contact.

“Good girl,” she said as soon as she pulled away, smiling.

I immediately took the chance to resume, using Tiffany’s legs as leverage as I continued to ride her.

Before what seemed like hardly any time at all, Tiffany stopped me again.

This continued three more times, until Tiffany scrapped the last bits and pieces of the pasta into my mouth.

With the meal finished, Tiffany impatiently pushed the plate to the side, nearly causing it to fall off the table, before standing up, dildo still inside of me, and bent me over the table.

I moaned loudly as she resumed pistoning the fake dick into my pussy, the new position granting her greater freedom to thrust harder and faster.

“Ah fuck Tiff!” I moaned, gripping the sides of the table as she fucked me relentlessly.

“You like that, huh? You like the feeling of my dick filling up your pussy? You like it when I’m fucking your pussy like this, don’t you?” Tiffany growled, giving my butt cheeks a few sharp slaps.

“Ah … ah … ah …” I continuously moaned as I felt the shaft continuously push itself in and out of my core, feeling the table shake ever so slightly from the force of Tiffany’s thrusts.

After a few minutes, I felt the build up start to overwhelm me. “Tiffany, I’m going to cum,” I warned her in a warbled voice as she continued her assault on my nether regions.

This further encouraged her, causing her to bring one hand to our connection and rub my clit. In about a minute, the pleasure overwhelmed me. “A-Ah!” I screamed, the additional stimulation pushing me over the edge as I felt a wave of pleasure wash over me. I felt myself pulsate on Tiffany’s strap-on, a wave of my juices staining the dildo and Tiffany’s legs.

I rode my orgasm out for the next half minute before sighing in relief, resting on the table with all my stamina drained, not even caring that my breasts being pushed against the table was somewhat uncomfortable.

“Can you go clean the dishes while I go help Taeyeon?” Tiffany said. “You can join us when you’re done,” she finished, patting my butt lightly before pulling the dildo out. I groaned softly as I felt the shaft slide against my vaginal walls before completely breaking contact with it.

I laid on the table, catching my breath until I heard Taeyeon moan. Oh, Taeyeon must have gotten horny from watching us, huh? I thought, feeling my face get warm once again. It was then that I completely registered what she said.

“Ah, Fany,” Taeyeon’s drawn out moan, along with my sudden realization, caused me to stand up straight, pushing myself off the table.

“Tae—Tae, aaah,” Tiffany’s accompanying moan piqued my interest; I knew I would regret it, but I couldn’t help myself. I looked in the direction of the living room, which was where their voices were coming from, and found Tiffany and Taeyeon sharing what was probably a two-sided strap-on dildo, with Tiffany wearing it.

I tore myself away from the hot scene and found the strength to stand up. I took a second to steady myself before carrying the dishes and silverware to the kitchen. Luckily, there was enough wall in between the kitchen and living room that they were significantly quieter than in the dining room; unluckily, I could still hear the two fucking and only felt my lust grow.

“Tiff—Fany, aah fuck,” Taeyeon moaned once again as I stepped out of the kitchen.

“Mm, you like it when I fuck you like that huh?” Tiffany asked, hands placed securely onto Taeyeon’s hips while she thrusted wildly into her. Even from this distance, I could see the amount of cum that was leaking onto Taeyeon’s crotch and legs.

“Yes, I love it soo much,” she replied, clearly clouded by lust.

Taeyeon was on her hands and knees, sticking her ass in the air to allow Tiffany easy access to her pussy as Tiffany continuously humped Taeyeon, occasionally creating the wet clapping sound of flesh against flesh.

Watching the scene before me rapidly returned my stamina to me, and before I knew it, I was in the living room. “Jessi, you’re here,” Tiffany noted, glancing over at me, “Tae, were you frustrated before, during dinner?” she inquired, stopping her thrusting.

I picked up a barely audible whine from Taeyeon as she turned her head around, nodding while using her best puppy dog eyes.

“Well, you’re about to get all the attention you could want,” Tiffany informed her, giving her ass a couple of encouraging slaps. “Jessi, you see the other strap-on two sided dildo on the couch over there?” Tiffany asked, motioning to the couch behind her.

“Yeah,” I said, spotting the blue sex toy.

“Put it on and join us,” she told me. I didn’t hesitate to grab the toy and push one end into myself, groaning as I felt the shaft enter me.

I made sure the shaft was bent in the proper direction before turning to face the pair.

Tiffany, who was underneath Taeyeon, was rubbing the rubber cock against her labia lips. Taeyeon was laying on top of Tiffany, face up with her legs spread wide open, allowing me easy visibility of her well shaven vagina. When she turned her head upwards to see me, her eyes just about popped when she noticed the dildo I was wearing.

“Oh, you’re going to—oh my god, I don’t think I can take both,” Taeyeon said, nervously shifting.

Tiffany wrapped her arms around Taeyeon’s waist. “Didn’t you want attention, though?” she asked, placing her head just to the left of Taeyeon’s. I continued advancing, breathing deeply as I felt the dildo shift inside me with every step I took.

“Isn’t this too much?” she asked, eyes showing a mixture of both fear and excitement.

“It’s ok, I lubed you up already,” Tiffany reminded her.

“But still … I don’t know—ah, fuck,” Taeyeon moaned loudly as Tiffany pushed the dildo into Taeyeon’s asshole.

I quickly closed the gap and situated my legs perpendicular to Taeyeon’s, quickly lubricating the shaft with Taeyeon’s honey before plunging into her pussy with the fake dick.

“AAH, FUCK!” Taeyeon screamed, arching her back as the second dildo entered her.

“Jessi, just lay on top of Taeyeon, I’ll be fine,” Tiffany said, voice strained from the effort she was putting into fucking Taeyeon’s ass.

I acquiesced, bringing my knees onto the carpet so that I was semi-bending over Taeyeon and lowered myself on top of her. Our boobs pressed against each other as I found Taeyeon’s lips with my own.

I placed my hands on Taeyeon’s waist, right above Tiffany’s, as I relentlessly thrusted into her. I could feel Tiffany’s simultaneous, mismatched thrusts as Taeyeon shook in response to both Tiffany’s and my own furious thrusts.

“MM, MM,” Taeyeon screamed continuously, her hands gripping my arms tightly.

The continuous shaking from both Taeyeon and Tiffany also helped the dildo inside of me shift around, causing it to push itself in and out, although with considerable less force.

“MMM!”

In just about a minute or two, that final scream barely gave us a heads up as Taeyeon shook furiously, pumping out stream after stream of cum that splattered onto the blue shaft, her legs, my legs, and even my waist.

Neither of us slowed down, even after Taeyeon had finished riding out her orgasm.

I broke our lip lock, next aiming for her breasts.

“Fuck, I just came, I can’t—ah—ah!” Taeyeon moaned as I lightly sucked on her nipple, bringing my left hand up to massage the other breast. “Pull out, I can’t take much more, oh fuck … please—please pull out,” she begged, although her body betrayed her as she immediately moaned afterwards.

“Just admit it, you love having our dicks inside you at the same time, Taeyeon,” Tiffany said, “Admit that you love being fucked in both holes at once while sandwiched in between two sexy women.”

“I—… I need a break, please, I’m … I’m—ah, FUCK,” Taeyeon moaned as I felt Tiffany significantly pick up her pace.

“I’m close,” Tiffany warned us.

“Ah, Tiff—” I moaned in response to Tiffany’s increased aggression, feeling the dildo stuffed inside of me thrash inside of me more wildly as a result.

“Admit you love being fucked in both holes at once,” Tiffany repeated, reaching around and grabbing my butt cheeks with both her hands.

I gasped at the unexpected contact, pushing the shaft extra deep into Taeyeon.

“FUCK! Yes, I love being fucked like this! Oh, fuck, I’m going to cum again!” Taeyeon screamed, panting heavily.

I felt Tiffany’s hand on my vagina, running along it as if searching for something. When she finally settled on my clitoris, her fingers started working on it furiously, pinching and rubbing it.

“Tiff—!” I moaned loudly, thrusting harder and harder into Taeyeon’s pussy as I felt the tension start to build up again.

Only about a minute later, Taeyeon let out another scream of ecstasy as her body once again shook with pleasure, depositing her honey onto the rubber dick, occasionally splattering my legs.

Tiffany followed soon after, shaking so furiously that I felt her vibrating through Taeyeon.

As she came, Tiffany gave my clit one last, hard pinch before letting go. This, combined with the dildo thrashing inside of me as a byproduct of Tiffany’s orgasm, was enough to send me over the edge. I let out a squeal as I shook furiously against the fake cock, causing the dildo to thrash about wildly inside of Taeyeon as I rode out my orgasm.

When I was finished, I let out a big sigh, resting my head on Taeyeon’s soft breasts, not having the strength to remove the dildo inside of her or me. She gently stroked my hair, brushing the loose strands of hair away from my face.

“Wow Taeyeon, you really are something,” I commented, my hands lazily resting on the carpeted floor.

She giggled in response to that. “Yah, and whose fault is that?” she said, lightly flicking my forehead.

“Hey, don’t blame me,” I said, turning my head to look at her and pout.

“You’re right,” she said, patting my head again, “It’s Tiffany’s fault, isn’t it?”

“I mean, you were basically begging for it, weren’t you?” Tiffany chimed in from underneath both of us.

Taeyeon mouthed to me the words ‘tonight’, motioning at Tiffany before responding, “I wasn’t asking for it to be this intense, though.”

“Oh well, you still liked it, didn’t you?” Tiffany asked. I could hear from a soft, but sharp slapping sound that Tiffany slapped Taeyeon’s ass after her accusation.

“Yeah,” Taeyeon responded lazily, leaning her head onto Tiffany’s shoulder.

“By the way, you guys didn’t happen to spike my food with something, did you?” I asked, still too lazy to bother moving from my current position.

“Well it’s a good thing we did, because you seemed like you weren’t ready for sex at all,” Tiffany noted.

After a few minutes, the three of us regained enough strength to get up, cleaning the sex toys before putting them away.

“Tomorrow, I think we should use the pool,” Tiffany said, walking towards the stairs.

“Meet up at 1:30 right outside her room, ok? I’ll get the toys,” Taeyeon whispered to me.

“What do you two think?”

Tiffany turned around, but by that time, we had already straightened ourselves up. “Yeah, that sounds good,” Taeyeon said.

Later that night, at around 1:30 AM, I got up out of my bed and carefully walked out of my room.

But before I even reached my door, I felt a pair of hands grab my arms. Before I could even react, another pair grabbed my legs and together, they hoisted me up.

I squealed as I felt myself carried and dumped back onto my bed.

“Taeyeon? Tiffany?” I asked as I felt another body join the bed with me. The blinds to my room were suddenly opened, allowing the moonlight to pour in.

There Tiffany was, straddling my waist with her knees, absolutely stunning in her beauty as the moonlight perfectly curved around her boobs and ass, accenting her already sinfully sexy body even more. “Taeyeon, what…?” I said, looking over at Taeyeon.

Seeing her absolutely stunned me as well. The way the moonlight hit her body, softly curving around her breasts and illuminating her smooth, milky-white skin, and the way a single strand of hair fell loose, casting a single shadow on her otherwise flawless face was a simply breathtaking sight.

“Sorry, but the idea of ganging up on you just seemed much more appealing to me,” she said, smiling innocently. I pouted, Taeyeon simply responding by letting out a chuckle.

My legs were gently resting against Tiffany’s, spread open enough to allow Tiffany’s fingers easy access. Tiffany seized the opportunity and lowered herself onto me, capturing my lips for her own while using her right hand to tease my entrance.

“Mmm,” I sighed in contentment, feeling a wave of pleasure course through me.

I borrowed Taeyeon’s razor to shave my pubic hair before heading to bed, which only allowed Tiffany easier access to my pussy lips. Every time she used her thumb to flick my clit, I moaned loudly and bucked my hips, causing the bed to emit a rattling sound.

After a few minutes of Tiffany’s ministrations, I felt myself leak with my juices, staining the area around my labia lips and inner thighs with the wet substance. Tiffany broke our lip lock and retracted her finger, saying, “Your turn Taeyeon.”

I turned my head curiously towards the window, but didn’t find Taeyeon there. Confused, I looked to the other side and gasped, feeling my eyes widen with shock.

Attached to Taeyeon was the thickest, longest dildo I’ve ever seen; it was a purple strap-on dildo almost 2.5 inches in diameter and probably at least 8 inches in length. Seeing that monster of a dildo caused a swirl of emotions to rise up inside of me; fear, anxiety, and nervousness with hints of excitement and wonder.

“Come here,” Taeyeon said, making a ‘come-hither’ motion with her fingers. I obeyed, climbing off the bed and walked towards Taeyeon.

As soon as I got within her range, she pulled me towards her. I squealed as I tumbled into her arms, but by the time I found my footing, Taeyeon’s hands were already parting my butt cheeks.

“W-Will that even fit inside me?” I asked nervously, feeling the rubber tip poke at my entrance.

“One way to find out,” she said, plunging it into me.

“UUGGH,” I groaned, feeling the rubber shaft push my pussy lips wide open, stretching its walls, slowly but surely sliding up and further into my vagina.

After about half a minute, Taeyeon stopped, letting me adjust to the size before pulling out a bit and immediately thrusting back up.

“FUCK!” I screamed, once again feeling the sex toy pushed further up my core.

“God you’re so fucking tight, Sica-yah,” Taeyeon said in a strained voice, gripping my hips tightly.

“Taeyeon, I’m ready,” I heard Tiffany from behind me.

No, no way can I take any more, this is already the biggest thing I’ve ever taken, I thought anxiously as Taeyeon carefully guided the both of us onto the ground, making sure to keep the dildo inside of me.

“It’ll feel amazing, I promise,” Taeyeon whispered as soon as she was laying flat on the floor with me on top of her, facing her.

I had my hands planted on either side of Taeyeon’s head, as laying completely against her would probably become uncomfortable. “Fany, you can start lubing her up as I finish this,” she said, bringing her hands down to our connection and carefully rubbing my labia lips.

“Aah,” I groaned, feeling a mixture of pleasure from Taeyeon’s hands, anxiety from the dildo that was plugging my vaginal canal, and pain as my pussy worked overtime to try and accommodate the fake cock.

A few seconds later, I felt a strangely cool, yet incredibly smooth substance make contact with my love hole. “Aah—aah,” I gasped, feeling Tiffany’s finger, coated with the substance, enter the smaller hole.

“Ssh, don’t worry about that,” Taeyeon cooed, patting my butt cheeks. “Just focus on one thing at a time,” she told me, returning her fingers to my spread out pussy lips.

I shuddered as I felt her fingers once again make contact with the sensitive skin.

“I-It’s too big…” I whimpered, wincing as I felt my vaginal walls continue to tightly hug the rubber member. “Taeyeon-ah, I—I—ah!”

I let out another moan as the dildo forced itself just a bit further inside of me.

“You’re doing great, princess,” Taeyeon said, kissing my cheek. Her gentle words seemed a bit paradoxical, given the fact that she was currently forcing a monster of a dildo inside of me.

“Huhhh … huhhh,” I panted heavily, wincing every time Taeyeon forced the dildo further. After a couple of minutes, I had finally taken in the whole thing as signified by my ass making contact with Taeyeon’s waist.

“Good girl. You did really well, my princess,” Taeyeon complimented me again, rubbing my butt cheeks and giving them a couple of affectionate pats.

By that point, the pain had started to fade away and pleasure had started to take over. I could feel a strange tension in my lower parts as my pussy walls hugged the enormous fake dick tightly; honestly, it was hard to believe that the monster of a dildo was actually inside of me.

“Jessi, this is not going to hurt, ok?” I suddenly heard Tiffany say. I knew what she was talking about when I felt the tip off the pseudo-cock prod at my anus; I instantly felt myself tense up a bit, feeling my vaginal walls grip Taeyeon’s dildo even more tightly

“Jessi, it’s ok, I’ve lubricated both you ass and the dildo. I promise it won’t hurt if you just trust me and relax, ok?” Tiffany reassured me, patting my butt cheeks.

I took a deep breath and nodded; it was a little challenging to relax with my pussy filled to the brim with Taeyeon’s dildo, but after about a minute, I managed to relax myself enough to give Tiffany permission to enter my other hole.

I involuntarily gasped as I felt the slick rubber tip of Tiffany’s strap-on prod at my second entrance, and without even a warning, Tiffany slid the second cock into my backdoor.

“Uuggh,” I let out a drawn-out moan as I felt Tiffany’s dildo slide into my anus. I could feel the toy slowly sliding along the walls of my anus until it finally accommodated the whole thing.

Almost as soon as that happened, they both started thrusting.

“AAH! OH, FUCK!” I screamed, feeling myself shake both in response to their thrusts and to the waves of pleasure flowing through my body. “OH MY GOD, FUCK—fuck I feel so full,” I said, panting heavily. “Fuck, I’m such a slut for enjoying this,” I breathed out.

It was like I lost control of my body as wave after wave of pleasure crashed into me. I was merciless as the two of them fucked me over and over in harmony; as Taeyeon pulled back, Tiffany would thrust, and as she would pull back, Taeyeon would thrust.

I eventually found Taeyeon’s lips and hastily met them, sloppily yet passionately kissing her.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking sexy like this Jess,” Tiffany said, slapping my butt and giving my clit a pinch.

I squealed against Taeyeon’s lips in response, feeling myself convulse as I felt my impending orgasm oncoming.

“Seeing you getting mercilessly fucked in both holes at the same time is so fucking sexy,” Tiffany continued, saying her words in an almost predatory fashion, “Just watching our dicks pounding you is almost enough to make me cum,” she continued, giving my clit another pinch.

I let out another high-pitched squeal, feeling myself convulse once again; my orgasm rocked my body, causing me to spasm against Taeyeon.

After I had finished riding out my orgasm, Taeyeon released the lip lock and brought her hands up to my boobs, leading one into her mouth while massaging the other. Tiffany took the liberty to use one hand to massage my butt cheeks and rub my clit while the other gripped my head. I felt my head turn and almost immediately after leaving Taeyeon’s lip lock, I felt Tiffany’s capture me.

 The room was soon filled with nothing but my incessant moans, grunts from the other two as they continuously fucked me, and the occasional slap from contact between my ass and their waist.

It didn’t seem to take long at all before I felt my second orgasm coming. I mumbled against Tiffany’s lips to relay the message to her, who seemed to receive it well as she responded to this by using her hand solely to rub my clit.

About a minute later, the sensation overwhelmed me as I felt the tension suddenly release. “AAH!” I broke the kiss to let out a scream as my second orgasm rock my body.

After about a minute, when my body finally subsided, I felt myself drained of energy once again, collapsing onto Taeyeon.

“You did so well Jessica,” Taeyeon said, patting my head.

“Mm,” I groaned in response, trying my best to catch my breath.

The two eventually retracted their dildos from inside of me. I let out a heavy sigh as they unstopped my pussy, causing me to shudder slightly as a bit more of my juices trickled out of it.

They carefully put me onto the bed, laying me on the side so that I was facing away from the window, making sure to place the covers on top of me before tackling each other. It didn’t take them long to get into a 69 position with Tiffany on the floor.

After a few minutes of hearing nothing but licking sounds, muffled moans, shuffling, and eventually the ecstatic screams, signaling the climax of the two, I eventually felt another weight onto the bed.

“Put this on, Jessi,” Tiffany said, securing the harness for yet another strap on for me. I didn’t complain, mostly because I didn’t have the strength to, and let the pseudo-cock hang from my crotch.

I heard a short groan followed by the slick sound of another vagina being penetrated. I opened my eyes to see Taeyeon crawl into bed in front of me. When we made eye contact, she smiled warmly, patting my shoulders. “Good job Jessi, we were really impressed with you today,” she said, turning around so that her back was facing me.

I chuckled. “Thanks,” I said, not even noticing Taeyeon grabbing my dildo until it made contact with her butt cheeks.

“Ah, can you help me a bit?” Taeyeon asked, turning her head around to look at me. “Can you just guide it?”

“What? Why?” I asked. However, my question was very soon answer as I felt another weight on behind me. Assuming it was Tiffany, I turned around my head to look just in time to see her crawl underneath the blanket. “Tiff?”

She didn’t answer me, instead spreading my butt cheeks and sliding what was probably one of those two-sided strap-ons back inside of me. “Ah—uugh,” I moaned, feeling my pussy lips being parted once again, the shaft sliding back inside of me.

“We just wanted to test this out. Go ahead and put your strap on inside of Taeyeon and then we’ll sleep,” she said.

I winced as the strap on shifted inside of me while Tiffany situated herself, wrapping her arms around me, pressing her boobs into my back, and settling her head into the crook of my neck.

I acquiesced, using my hands to grab the shaft before carefully parting Taeyeon’s labia lips with the sex toy, pushing it until it was completely buried inside of her.

Taeyeon let out a contented sigh as I wrapped my arms around her waist, wrapping my legs around hers and resting my head on the pillow, blanketed by Taeyeon’s silky, sweet smelling hair.

“Good night,” Taeyeon said, covering my hands with her own.

“Good night,” the two of us chimed in response. And for the first time that night, the house fell into a silence as we all drifted to sleep.

Tbh, I technically do have a part 3 in drafts, but it's been in my drafts for like 8 years xD if I feel so compelled, I may go back to it :D

[thebeautifullydamnedone]

Wishful Drinking (Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw)

Lana yet again runs into her ex, Bradley, and sparks fly once more. They’ve done this song and dance before, and it’s never gone anywhere apart from the bedroom. But maybe this time will be different. Or is that just “wishful drinking”?

WC: This does contain smut and semi public sex!!! So beware of that if you’re not interested in reading that! 

A/N: So, if you don’t listen to country, this song is inspired by Ingrid Andress and Sam Hunt’s song, “Wishful Drinking”. It struck a cord with me and I had an idea almost immediately! Also, a FOREVER thank you to @evansrogerskitten​ for being the best editor, even when it’s not easy and you have to tell me to add WAY more to perfect it! I’m so glad I have your expertise and I’m thankful for your friendship that came along with your amazing editing skills.

It is a regular Friday evening rush at the Hard Deck. Lana, the young bartender Penny hired years ago, has agreed to come in on her night off to help Penny with the evening rush. Lana isn’t sure about giving up part of her Friday night, but Penny has offered free drinks for her the rest of the night which makes all the pouring drinks worth it. Lana has intended to meet some friends after work anyway, so it’s easy to convince them to drink at The Hard Deck as well. Tonight is a perfect night to do so. The Hard Deck is full of young aviators, their dates, and friends.

Penny glances over at her and smiles, “Lana, can you tell Jimmy to change the Bud Light keg for me?”

Lana agrees and goes in search to find Jimmy. She and her friends normally avoid the Hard Deck because of her job, but also because of all the Naval Aviators that come in on a regular basis. Rather, the certain Naval Aviators that come in, her ex included. But it is inevitable tonight. After finding Jimmy Lana finds herself behind the bar again. When asked for a draft she waits for Jimmy to change it before pouring it. She smiles up at her customer and pushes a full Bud Light pint at him and wipes down the bar as he leaves.

Penny comes up behind her. “I so appreciate you coming in, Lana. Like I said, free drinks for you tonight! You can get out of here in the next twenty minutes or so. It’s calming down now, and Jacob said he’ll come in for the rest of the shift!”

“Sure thing, Pen.” Lana nods and continues to wipe down the bar, glancing around at the rowdy group of patrons. She loves working at The Hard Deck. It is always bustling, and she makes good money here. Granted, some of the faces are familiar after a while but that is the fun of the job. The only problem is the visiting aviators.

Lana is restocking some of the liquor and refilling the ice bins when her friends come into the bar. She smiles and motions them over to a table.

“You’re not going to believe who just waltzed into this bar right before us!” Her friend Jess squeals at her.

Lana glances around but can already feel the goosebumps on her arms starting to raise. “Who?” But right as she says it, she sees him from across the bar. Her ex, Bradley Bradshaw, is with a group of familiar regulars. Right about now Lana wishes she is just about anywhere but here. Right as she goes to look away, he looks up, right at her and a small smile crosses his mustached face. She looks away and shakes her head to get him out of her thoughts.

Jess smiles at her sweetly and mouths “Bradley” even though Lana is trying to change the subject. “Right, anyway. What are you girls drinking?”

Lana’s ex shows up every few years and it is never awkward, just not a good idea. They have hooked up a few times since initially breaking up, and it never ends well. Not badly, but nothing has ever come of it after that. Lana and Bradley had broken up for irreconcilable differences. He is career-oriented, and she is a free spirit.

In the background, she hears someone mess with the jukebox and “Wishful Drinking” starts to play in the background over all the ruckus of the bar. She smiles to herself, the song always reminds her of Bradley.

Five years ago. Lana remembers fondly one of the last nights they had spent before they had broken up. She was studying for her Business Management exams and she was beyond stressed. He got home earlier than usual and walked straight into one of her common freak outs about school that were normally witnessed by her laptop alone.

He walked straight over to her, shut her laptop, lifted her into his arms from the chair and hugged her tight. She inhaled the combination of sweat and cologne on his flight suit and instantly her day felt better already.

“Stop stressin, darlin. You got this. You know you do. I know you do. Take a break and spend some time with me…”

Right there in the kitchen, after dinner and almost a full bottle of wine, he pulled her back to him and they danced and laughed for hours. The Sam Hunt station playing over the Alexa. No stress. No school. No work. Just the two of them and the intense feelings they felt towards each other but hadn’t yet fully expressed.

After being pulled from her memories she takes her friends’ drink orders, and some shit about being in the same place as her Bradley. Lana goes behind the bar to mix their drinks. She is halfway through mixing them when Penny comes behind her. “You can get outta here, if you want, kiddo. Jacob just got here, and I see your friends!”

“Okay, I’ll clock out.” Lana smiles at Penny as she starts a tab for her friends. She runs the drinks and then comes back to clock out when a familiar voice from behind her catches her attention.

“Busy tonight, darlin?” She smiles to herself but keeps her face neutral as she turns back to her ex boyfriend, Bradley Bradshaw.

“Darlin? Who you callin’ ‘darlin’, Bradshaw?” She grabs a wet towel and wipes down the bar in front of him. “What’ll it be, Lieutenant?” She stares him down playfully and he sizes her up and down like he hasn’t seen her in years. Which, now that she is thinking about it, he hasn’t. The last time they had seen each other was at least three years ago.

He seems to appreciate what he is seeing as he looks back up into her eyes. “I think we’re keeping it simple tonight. I’ll take five drafts of whatever’s cheapest, Lana.” Smiling, Lana turns to grab them but a hand on her waist freezes her in her spot as Jacob, the other bartender, comes up behind her.

She can’t help but notice Bradley’s eyes narrow and hands ball into a fist at the sight of Jacob’s hand on her hip as he moves around her. “I’ll grab those for ya, it’s her off time! See you later, Lana?”

Lananods at Jacob and then fake salutes Bradley who grins at her before she comes out from behind the bar. She goes over to her friends who shriek at the small contact she’s had with Bradley already. She sips at her drinks but can’t help but keep him partially in her eyesight, and he does the same.

As the night goes on the two groups end up slowly growing closer together. Lana’s friends are less than discreet as they attempt to make friends with the aviators in Bradley’s group. Lana rolls her eyes at them, thinking that they seriously need to chill. She knows how her and Bradley’s little song and dance goes. They’ll end up together somehow.

When her friends succeed in merging the two parties, and Bradley ends up leaning against the pool table beside her, she’s not surprised at all.

When she looks over he’s looking down at her. Their height difference is obvious when they’re next to each other like this. “So, you still work here, huh?” She smiles at his attempt at small talk and takes a sip of her mixed drink before looking up at him.

“Same place I’ve worked for the past few years. Good tips and great times can’t be beat. Plus, every once in a while, I get to run into some old friends.” She winks playfully at him and nudges his shoulder slightly as he grins at her. “Penny is the best boss I’ve ever had, so that definitely keeps me around.”

“So, you can stay in one place longer than a month. Interesting.” He says it playfully, but she can tell there’s a little bit of resentment in there as well. Part of the reason they broke up was because she wanted to travel and see the world. Lana didn’t want to do long-distance. They had both hated to break up because they’d been so damn good together.

She remembers the last fight they had. “What do you mean you want to travel more? You don’t travel anywhere now as it is, how can you travel more?!”, Bradley yelled. The line hurt her, but she kept her face neutral. “I don’t get this Lana, you want to break up because we’re too good together and it scares you! Just admit it!” Lana hated when Bradley yelled at her, but he’d never been so passionate about it.

“I won’t admit that because it’s not true! I just think after school I want to travel and see the world and you’ll never leave North Island as long as there’s planes to fly here! That’s just a simple fact, Bradley! Why don’t you get that? You have this amazing job and you’ve already achieved so much and seen so much! And that’s amazing. I’m proud of you! But I haven’t done that, Bradley. I’ve seen and done NOTHING outside of school!”

Bradley sighed and reached over to take her hand but she pulled it away to make a point. “Honey, you can go see and do things and I'll be right here. Lana…I lo-”

Immediately she stood from the table and held up a hand, halting his statement. “Please don’t. Please don’t say that right now and make this harder than it has to be. We’ve only been dating like eight months….”

She had been terrified of her feelings for Bradley. They had come hard and fast and had obliterated her when she’d had to leave him. And the worst part? Lana hadn’t even traveled much. She went to England for a week but got homesick and came right back home. And then she’d felt she’d done it all for nothing. But her feelings for Bradley hadn’t changed even through all of that, and apparently neither had his.

They prove that pretty much every single time they get back together. They always site dumb things like “seeking closure” and “curiosity” when they hook up but they both know it is something more than that. They are just never sure what it is.

“Yeah well, I can stick around if there’s good money involved.” Lana jokes right back at him. She’s hoping it’ll get better being around him because right now it’s a little heavy.

For a few moments it’s quiet as they watch their respective friends mingle with each other. Lana takes the final sip of her mixed drink and shakes the empty glass in her hands. “Refill time.” She can feel the tension dissolve with each step she takes away from him. Penny already has another mixed drink waiting by the time she gets to the bar and for that she’s thankful.

Lana takes a long drink, closing her eyes as she does. But a brush of fabric against her bare arm has her opening her eyes to look at Bradley taking the spot next to her. “I’m sorry, for…saying that. It was my attempt at a poor joke.”

Lana smiles at him because she knows he’d never be cruel on purpose, it just wasn’t in his nature. “It’s all good, Bradley. I know. We’re good.” He smiles down at her and she can’t help but notice the proximity of them. His hand dangling at his side is practically touching her bare hip where her sundress stops covering her leg.

“You know, it’s getting late….” She grins up at him as she sips at her drink, silently observing his attempt at being flirty. He’s turned more towards her now as he says it and she can tell he wants to reach out and touch her in some way. She can see it in his eyes and she’s sure he can see it in hers.

She nods after a moment, and gently tugs at the bottom of his Hawaiian shirt to close the small distance between them. She’s hoping he’ll get the hint that she’s fine with where this is going. “Very observant, Bradshaw. It is getting pretty late.” She waits for him to say something else, but he seems hesitant on what to say next. His mouth opens and closes a few times. They both know where this goes, but they always end up there anyway.

“You know,” Lana starts, slowly drawing it out. “I’ve had quite a bit to drink. Think you can give me a ride home?” She watches his entire face break out into a huge grin of accomplishment as she takes the straw into her mouth once more and chugs the last part of her drink.

Bradley reaches into his pocket and pulls out his keys. “I’d hate any lady to drive home under the influence. I’m parked at the back of the lot, wanna finish your drink?” That’s when he notices that she’s already finished it and is setting the glass on the bar once more. “Need to close out your tab?”

Lana reaches over and taps the counter to get Penny’s attention subtly and smiles. “Am I good to go?” Penny gives her a thumbs up before getting distracted by Lana and Bradley’s rambunctious friends. She turns back to him and smiles. “Ready?”

Bradley nods at her and subtly snakes his arm around her waist as they exit the bar, steadying her even more. His hand has part of her sundress bunched under it and it sends goosebumps up her arms and down her legs a little. She smiles as he points to the very back of the lot where the Bronco sits in all its glory. They make their way to it as the parking lot gets darker the farther they get from the bar. It’s quieter out here as well.

Lana realizes she actually has had quite a bit to drink when she stumbles slightly, but his arm around her waist refuses to let her fall. When they get to the passenger side of the Bronco, Bradley whirls her around and his hands easily grab her waist before picking her up and slamming her gently against the passenger side door.

Her lips connect to his as her legs wrap tightly around his waist. His hands roam up her dress as their tongues mingle together in a tango of push and pull to see who will win. She’s smiling against his lips as his hands find her breasts over her dress. He caresses them lovingly as her hands grip tightly at his shoulders and curl into his hair.

When their lips break, Bradley immediately attacks her neck with kisses and nibbles. Lana looks up at the perfect stars in the sky. Lana can’t force herself to stop this. The fire between her and Bradley is perfect, every single time. Their bodies know exactly what the other needs. She giggles as he nips at her neck, and she grabs his cheeks softly and pulls his head over to look into her eyes. “We should get in the truck, so we’re less in the open?”

Bradley nods slowly and reaches over, opening the door for her and gently puts her down on the seat. “Stay right there.” He jokes to her. She grins with excitement as he closes the door behind her. He practically runs around the truck as she tries to calm her breathing down but the second he gets in the truck he’s reaching for her again.

“Come here.”  

Lana climbs over the seats and into his lap, immediately connecting their mouths again. She thinks to herself how lucky it is that she has decided to wear the little blue sundress she loves so much as Bradley reaches down to unbutton his pants. He’s rushing and she knows why. They’ve both waited for this all night, since they first clocked eyes with each other. And if Lana was being true with herself, she’d been waiting for years.

Lana puts a hand on Bradley’s chest which makes him hesitate but she smiles before taking over for his hands. “Here, let me.” She unbuttons his pants slower, letting the intensity build before she unzips them slowly to make him wait.

“God I love when you take control, Lana.” Bradley is eager to be inside her and she can feel him hard in his boxers.

Lana smiles as she lifts her hips just enough that he can pull his pants partially down. He practically yanks them down as he says, “I can’t wait much longer.”

Once free, his length springs from his boxers. “Jesus, Bradley.” She moans it as she positions herself immediately because she’s just as impatient as he is. When Lana lowers herself down on him she hisses at the remembrance of him from the last time. Bradley fills her completely, not too much, just enough. He gently leans the seat back more as she adjusts to his size before she decides to move.

Lana finds a tempo that works for them, starting out slowly but building. They’re both too impatient to let this go on for too long. It occurs to her after a few thrusts that they’ve neglected a condom, but she won’t stop now. They find a faster rhythm and she can feel herself unraveling on top of him.

“You feel so good, honey.” He says, practically ripping a moan straight from her. His answering moan is her undoing.

Lana is lost for a moment in the pure pleasure of it all but just as she thinks Bradley is about to finish he grabs her hips and lifts her off of him, coming all over her thighs. She climbs over to the passenger seat as they both breath heavily.

“Can you hand me the work-out towel in the backseat?” Bradley points behind him with his eyes closed. He glances at her for a second and his pupils are practically blown with happiness.

Lana reaches back and grabs the towel before handing it to him. He cleans himself up and offers her the towel for her to clean herself up as well. When she’s done cleaning her thighs she then chucks the towel back in the backseat.

“Well…. I guess we knew that was going to happen.” She says quietly but the second she does they both share a look before bursting out laughing.

Lana isn’t wrong, they both knew they would end up here. Ever since they’d broken up, they always end up getting back together in some sense. And as the years go on, she isn’t even really sure why they had broken up in the first place. It is drunken nights like this where the lines of reality and fiction blur for both of them. Nights like this make them both think maybe they are possible again.

Bradley is career-oriented, sure. But is that really a deal-breaker? As Lana thinks this to herself, he looks over at her and smiles as he pulls his pants up. “Want to watch a movie or something? I’m sure our friends think we both left anyway.”

Lana smiles back at him and shrugs.

Should she? No.

Will she? Absolutely.

“Yeah, sure, a movie does sound pretty good.” She buckles up as Bradley starts the Bronco and soon, they’re on the road. They pull up to a house that’s dimly lit with the porch light on that is his rental until this detachment he’s on is up. He helps her out of the car and to the porch but once the door is unlocked, Bradley pushes Lana up against the back of the door with a hard kiss. They make it to his bedroom this time.

The next morning comes all too early. Lana rolls onto her side and stiffens as she realizes there’s someone beside her. The night rushes back to her and she silently groans to herself quietly, “Idiot.”

Bradley Bradshaw might always be her weakness. Lana opens her eyes and sees that he’s fast asleep on his stomach with his head turned away from her. She rolls to the side of the bed as quietly as she can and rubs at her eyes. Her clothes are strewn throughout the bedroom and she’s trying to find an exit strategy when Bradley rolls over behind her.

“Is this the part where you stay, and we make breakfast and talk like friends? Or is it the part where you try to sneak off while I’m asleep and we don’t talk again until the next time we run into each other?”

Lana smiles to herself and looks over her shoulder to him. “Well, that depends,” He raises an eyebrow at her, asking her to continue with his eyes. “Which were you hoping for? Cause most people normally hope their one-night stands are gone by morning.”

Bradley groans and rolls onto his side. Lana notices that he’s bulked up quite a bit since the last time she’s seen him. “Come on, Lana, you know damn well you’re not a one-night stand.” He reaches over and touches the small of her back as he says this, and she inhales deeply at his soft touch.

Lana lets out a sarcastic laugh and grabs the sheet to cover herself more before turning back to him. “Yeah, Bradley? Then what exactly am I to you? Because this keeps happening, and we’ve never established what that means to either of us. So, if I’m not a one-night stand or a hook-up for convenience’s sake, what am I?” She says it quietly, and tries to hide the hurt in her voice but she can’t quite accomplish it.

Bradley watches her face for a few seconds after she’s done speaking and Lana can see the gears in his head working overtime to come up with an answer. It hurts Bradley that she’s upset. “I know that all of that is true. But I also know you mean more to me than some one-night stand. I know that I care for you. And it’s nights like last night that make me wonder why we even broke up in the first place.”

Lana’s eyes narrow slightly, shocked to hear him say this. A shot of adrenaline shoots through her veins. “You think that too?”

He lets out a laugh as she says it and she worries maybe he’s said it just to say it.

“Yeah, I do. I mean, I know that we broke up, and sometimes while we’re hooking up, I tell myself it’s for closure. But I think you and I both know there won’t be closure from a situation like ours.” Bradley sighs. “We were great together. And it doesn’t make any sense why we broke up. Can you think of a reason, a real reason, that we broke up other than our schedules?”

Lana opens and closes her mouth a few times before realizing he’s right. They’d broken up because Bradley was always training and when he wasn’t doing that she was working. But that was back at Top Gun for him, and college for Lana. Both of their schedules had calmed down since then.

Bradley lets out another laugh and points at her. “So, you can’t think of a reason. Yeah, me either! So why not just, I dunno, try it again? See where it goes this time? I mean, it’ll be like hopping back on a bike, we already know the basics! Right?” She smiles at him as he stares at her challengingly.

Part of Lana is scared but that’s the only part that wants to tell him no. She hasn’t really dated since Bradley, and there’s probably a reason for that. He had been exactly what she had been looking for her entire life, and he probably still is. She can’t really think of any reasons why this couldn’t work again.

“I think I’m ready for another round of me and you,” Lana grins.  Bradley chuckles before grabbing her arms and pulling her over to him.

“Good, then it’s settled! You’re my gal, again.”

Lana is hopeful that this time, she stays Bradley’s forever.

[yutahoes]

Her Fault

The second part of His Fault and from this ask and this ask of the same anon. This is bad. I really can’t write smut right now. 😅 (Please be warned)

characters: boyfriend! Yuta, girlfriend! Y/N, Shotaro, 00 liners, Johnny and his girlfriend

genre: smut

word count: 2.3k words

warnings: thigh touching, oral (female receiving), mention of punishment, mention of sex videos, kissing, breast fondling, virgin sex (?), cumming too early, handjob, cock riding, rough sex, creampie, dom! Yuta, slut calling, spitting (?), slight exhibitionism (Wow, that’s a lot.) 

summary : You think it’s Yuta’s fault but really, it’s all you. 

“You want him that bad, huh?” Yuta asked that made you look at him in surprise. He nodded towards the younger Japanese guy who was helping Jeno and Jaemin unload the things from the back of the van. “I don’t think he moved on from that as well. He always avoids me.”

You sighed before holding on to Yuta’s arm tight. “I think I scared him.” But Yuta shook his head, kissing the side of your head. “Aren’t you angry? When Johnny’s girlfriend slept with Jeno, he almost had a fit. How are you alright with this?” 

Yuta chuckled. “It’s my fault, isn’t it?” He then slipped his arm from you before helping the younger guys with the luggage. Once again, a sigh escaped your lips. You hope he didn’t actually mean that.  

It’s been weeks since you had your taste of Shotaro. He just left while you’re sleeping so you didn’t get the chance to ask him if he wanted this to be a regular thing. You never saw him once even if you hang out with Yuta’s friends and you were convinced that he is avoiding you. So when Yuta told you that they’re going on a vacation and asked if you want to come with him, you agreed right away. 

“That’s so unfair,” Renjun said huffing. “Why can Yuta hyung and Johnny hyung bring girlfriends?” 

You giggled at him. “Are you dating someone, Injun?” He only pouted while shaking his head. “Do you want me to introduce you to someone?” 

“Noona, me. Introduce me to someone.” Yangyang interjected that made you laugh, revolting that he’s still a baby while lightly slapping his arm. An action you often do to him. Your giggling stopped when you caught sight of the younger Japanese boy looking at the hand you placed on Yangyang’s arm, jaw clenched. Is he mad? 

From behind him, you can see your boyfriend, smirking. Maybe it isn’t entirely Yuta’s fault.  

-----

Yuta was assigned to cooking that night and although you have trust in him, you decided to help him in the kitchen. You halted on your steps when you heard him talking to Japanese with someone. He was talking to Shotaro. A mention of your name made you return to where you came from, hiding from them. Maybe you can get some context clues from what they were talking about but you really can’t understand them. Are they talking about you? Why? What is it? 

Even during dinner, you were just quietly seated beside Yuta and in front of Shotaro. It feels awkward all of a sudden since they’re acting like the way they were before things happened between you and Shotaro. Are you the only one awkward about this? You felt Yuta’s hand on your thigh as he asked if you were alright, you only nodded then returned to Johnny who was telling stories about his trip to Chicago. 

The hand on your thigh moved up but Yuta’s still casually reacting to his friend. His fingers reached the hem of your underwear under your skirt and you parted your legs for him, giving him access. He started rubbing your clothed core, chuckling when you released a quiet moan and masking it with a drink of water. He hooked a finger on your underwear, pulling it down that you’re left with your nakedness. 

You held Yuta’s hand to let him touch you but his fingers just dig on your thigh, pushing your legs apart. A gasp escaped your lips when you felt something hot enter your core. Your boyfriend lightly raised the table cloth as you saw Shotaro under the table, eating you out. What? You held on Yuta’s arms as the younger licked your insides. Fuck, he’s so good that you wanted to shout at the pleasure. 

“Sho, you haven’t found your chopstick?” Johnny’s girlfriend asked and you almost cursed at her when the younger stopped what he was doing. You’re almost there. 

Yuta was laughing that made Johnny look at him curiously. You saw Shotaro appear from under the table as you tried to catch your breath. “Yuta hyung was stepping on my chopstick.” Haechan just gave him another chopstick while Johnny kept on hissing at Yuta’s playfulness. 

When you met eyes with Shotaro, he licked his bottom lip that made your heartbeat loud in your chest. Your core throbbing in excitement. 

-------

You were so horny yet Yuta isn't in the room at the moment. You desperately wanted to touch yourself but he warned you not to. Not like you care about the punishment but he specifically told you to act properly. He may fuck you during the trip but he cannot punish you considering the teenage boys you were with. And now, you're back to being horny. 

It was the second video of your sexy time yet you only grew annoyed that Yuta's not here to satisfy you. When you swiped left, Shotaro's masturbating video startled you to the point that you almost dropped the phone to yourself. If Yuta isn't here to play with you, maybe Shotaro can. So you typed a quick message to him, asking him to come to your room. 

It's embarrassing, you thought after hitting send. Why are you desperate for a cock? You were about to type in an apology when you heard a knock on the door. Must be Yuta. 

Giddily, you opened the door only to gasp when Shotaro held your shoulder while pushing you inside. "Sho…"His lips went to you almost immediately, sucking the soul out of you. His tongue entered your mouth and you moaned. He's such a great kisser. No, his tongue is amazing. "Aaah Shotaro..." you moaned as his hand went to your breast, squeezing it. He's so fast. 

His tongue started licking your neck then up to your earlobe, fondling your breasts like it's a normal thing to do. "Tell me what you want me to do, noona." he whispered in that low voice that made you tremble on your knees. Why does he sound so hot? His fingers started teasing your protruding nipples from the nightgown. "I'll do anything you ask me to do." You stopped to look at him, is he serious? Anything? 

But who are you to refuse anyways? An erotic moan escaped your lips when he started licking your shoulder with that long tongue that you adored. "That..." you groaned and he smirked. His hand pulled the strap of your nightgown, letting it fall to the ground. His mouth went to your breast, delicious tongue playing with your nipple. "Sho…" you called, threading your fingers on his hair. "I want your cock inside me." 

You lie to the bed, pulling down your underwear that made him scramble out of his clothes. Shotaro was hovering above you in bed as you pulled him closer for a kiss. His tongue lingered in your mouth, proving that he's learned so much from kissing you. His groan echoed through the room when he slipped his erection in you. Your hand held on his shoulder, the other grasping the bedsheet as he kept grinding on you. "Noona." He called, grinding his hips on yours. "It feels so good. So so good." Then you felt something warm inside you. He already came? Just like that? 

Shotaro tried to catch his breath, laying above you and crushing your body with his weight. "Sho…" You called. "You're heavy." He apologized, rolling on his side to lay beside you. He cursed under his breath and that's when your senses hit you. "Oh my God, that is your first time." You raised your body using your elbow to fully gaze at him. "I'm sorry. It slipped my mind." 

"I'm fine, noona. You don't have to…" A grunt replaced his words when your cold hand touched his semi-hard cock. Your palm rubbing the base upward then groped the tip. Your finger traced the side of his cock while you stare at his angelic face filled with pleasure. "Noona. Fuck!" A melody in your ears. 

His repeated moaning, calling out for you, only made you eager to get him hard. You jerked his cock, alternating in a slow to a fast pace. You placed your other hand on the tip, rubbing it using your palm that earned pleas coming from Shotaro. "Noona, I'm close…" 

A smirk escaped your lips when he stared at your hand longingly, jerking his hip. You held his chest, kneeling on top of him. His eyes were wide while staring at you as you lowered yourself to kiss him. Your fingers laced on his fingers, raising his hands above his head. A whimper was heard through the room when his erect cock slipped inside you.

"You're so wet, noona."

"All because of you, baby." You grind your hips, holding his shoulder while reminding yourself not to come to his neck. He might not be ready for that. His moans kept on resonating through the whole room as you kept bouncing on his cock. His face was filled with unadulterated pleasure, turning you on. 

You kept your pace, grinding against his hips then bouncing at his cock when you felt someone grab both your breasts from behind. "Hold her waist, Sho." Yuta guided while pinching both your erect nipples. "Jerk your hip up, she likes that." Your body arched forward when the younger raised his hips, hitting you deeply. Both yours and Shotaro's moans echoed in the room while Yuta whispered instructions to the younger guy. 

"Noona…" Shotaro's fingers were digging in your skin and you didn't know if it was the throbbing of his cock or you clenching in on him that made all of this hotter. The younger Japanese kept on jerking his cock, eager to get in his orgasm while the older kept whispering dirty words in your ear. Shotaro’s nails dig in you as he slowed down his actions, warmness filling you up. 

Breathless, you lay on his chest in tiredness. His cock slipped out of you before your hips were raised by your boyfriend, thrusting his cock inside you. You were still sensitive from your orgasm, feeling really full with the cum yet he’s pushing all of it inside. "Fuck, Yuta!" He was taking you roughly that you grasp Shotaro’s shoulder. 

Your hair was pulled back and you moaned. "Show Shotaro how much of a slut you are." Your eyes gaze on the younger guy, looking at you in worry. Yuta held your cheeks, forcing you to look at him. "Do you want me to stop, baby?" 

A breath hitched through your throat and in a soft voice answered, 'No daddy'. He slipped his thumb between your lips. His dark orbs staring at you and making you weak. "Open." You obeyed him, putting your tongue out as he spit in your mouth. "Swallow, my dirty girl. Look at Shotaro while you're doing that." The younger's eyes were only focused on you as you gulped hard. A groan escaped your lips when Yuta sunk deeper into you, roughly taking you from behind that you're in tears. 

"Yuta. Oh my God!" You shouted, voice getting hoarse at the repeated shouting. Your voice echoed through the room and at this rate, the occupants in the next room will surely hear you. But you didn't care. Not when sex is this good. Is it Johnny and his girlfriend? Why do you hope that it's the teenage boys’ room? 

"Fuck, baby, you are so loud." Yuta teased, thrusting in her deep. "Want to put a cock in your mouth to make you quiet." The imagery of him taking you from behind and Shotaro's cock in your mouth was too much. Your nails dig on the younger's skin as you shiver in orgasm. "So fucking wet, baby." You could even feel Yuta's cock slipping inside you with ease as you let him use you like his personal sex toy, Shotaro watching the two of you. 

He rolled on his side after dumping all his load inside you.  Shotaro had to help you lay in the bed between him and Yuta. You’re already tired, you can’t have another round. Your eyes closed in sleepiness while feeling Yuta’s hand slipped on your waist before asking Shotaro if he was alright before he answered  “Hyung, can I join you again next time?” which made you smile.  

------

Yuta removed his shirt while approaching you beside the pool. The other guys were already swimming while you put lotion on yourself. “Where’s your baby boy?” He sat behind you, taking the bottle of lotion and pouring some on your back. 

“He went to get ice cream.” You claimed then moaned at his hands, touching your back. His hand slipped inside your bikini top, smearing some lotion on the underside of your breast. “Yuta, you can’t do this. My bikini is white.” 

The guy had to chuckle before kissing your shoulder. “You’ll get wet anyway.” 

Shotaro sat in front of you, holding a cone of vanilla ice cream. “This is the only flavor available.” You held his hand, licking the cream seductively while staring at him. He lightly coughed and squirmed in his seat. Some cream was on your lips as you darted your tongue out to lick it. His eyes followed the wet muscle. “God, noona, you’re hot.” 

“Want me to show you something cold, Sho?” He quickly nodded. You held his hand, asking him to follow you. “Do you want to come Yuta?”   

He smirked. “Make Sho come first.” 

The guy leaned on his chair before Haechan sat on the chair beside his. “Where are noona and Taro going?” 

“Probably getting ice cream.” Haechan even claimed that he saw Shotaro buying one. “She doesn’t like vanilla.” Yuta said with a smirk. 

Jaemin lightly coughed. “That’s sexy.” 

“She is, isn’t she?” Both teenagers nodded even conversing about how they talk who among the hyung’s girlfriends are hot and you leading the 00 liners’ poll. 

Yuta smiled. See? It’s definitely your fault. 

[kkusuka]

Love your writing and I adored your thick af gf head cannons. I was hoping that you could do a part two with the following characters; Ushijima, Semi, Akaashi, Oikawa, Sugawara and Futakuchi? Thank you!

<3

part one

part 3

Ushijima Wakatoshi

Just the fact that ushijima had a girlfriend set some people off

But the fact he had a girlfriend like you??

No way

No possible way

How did that even happen?

I’ll tell you

It was not the most romantic by any means

It was a totally normal day at Shiratorizawa, classes were fine, but on his way back to his last class he was in a crowded staircase

And you just happened to be wearing shoes that didn't fit and somehow were coming undone every five seconds

What i am trying to say is you fell backwards onto him and he you a hand full off ass and another hand of boob

you apologized, he was shell shocked (and kinda turned on)

And you two just moved along, until tendou got word of what happened

Which led to him getting the full story from the man himself then forcing ushijima to ask you out two days later.

You agreed, duh, and thus began the “ushijima gets everything” mantras

He's not that protective with what you wear considering either everyone knows you’re his girlfriend or he's standing next to you the entire time you're wearing it.

But, he does take notice of a lot of your clothes, uncaring or not, he’ll try to talk you out of wearing some things

like tight dresses, which is pretty much every dress

With the exception of sundresses!

If you wear a sundress he’s putty in your hands, just slip on the dress and you can literally just walk on him, and he’ll let you

Also sundresses are the reason you know his horny language

Considering he is not a man of words, he takes a more physically approach

As in he will grab you by the waist, pick you up and just walk away

Maybe uttering a “we have to go”

Or there are times that he’ll just put you on his lap or have you straddle his thigh

No words, no thoughts, just thinking about how soft you are.

Semi Eita

Semi is a cuddle bug, and you can’t tell me he isn't 

So seeing you at one of their games, specifically the one that he was playing and doing great, he knew it was you

Once he slithered his way into your life he asked you on a date!

That night was th efist day he realized that he wasn't the only one who thought you were the hottest person on the planet 

Que the beginning of protective Semi!

He's the “I trust you, but i don't trust them” linda guy

But the good way 

He lets your wear all the dresses and leggings (bc they usually don't stay on for too long) 

But when he does, he's on you, shoulder to shoulder walking, hand in hand, arm around the shoulder 

Just to let all those creeps know your his <3

(it is also not below him to buy you a choker (aka a collar) with his name on it) 

He is the handsy king 

He’s a good mix of groping you to heavan, and telling you how beautiful you are 

He’ll pry his hands into your thighs and press you into him 

He shoves his face into the crook of your neck 

He also doesn't really care if anyone sees, he’ll do it during parties, in his dorm with his roommate, during practice breaks 

Or he ruts into you in the hallway 

Everyone sees it, you know it he knows it, you guys just don't really care 

Akaashi Keiji

you knew him as Bokuto's friend and he was content with that 

but eventually you guys caught feelings and bokuto just decided to play god

Akaashi, as much as he tries, is not completely rid of emotions 

And all the pretending makes it really hard for him to see you in more than a few outfits 

The uniform, how have you not been dress coded yet? 

One time it seemed especially short and he just turned around and faced the wall until the bell rang

or when you were rushing and just wore spandex and his old jersey to one of his games 

he had to get taken out so he could catch his breath

aka just looking at you made him a mess

and that time you wore leggings and a crop top to a movie date 

and he had a hard on the entire night

(but it was below him to ask for a handjob in public even though he desperately wanted to ask) 

considering he’s turned on when you do literally anything 

He has formed a “i have to tell her i'm turned on, but i don't want to say it out loud” system

First is the staring 

He just looks at you from wherever you are and he follows you with his eyes. Hell look down your body and think out your previous bedroom activities 

Second is the touching

He’ll come up behind you and just stand there. Rest his head on your shoulder and rub up and down your sides 

Third, and finally, is the whispers 

He has his head there for a reason, if you just ignore him (which is hard) he just starts telling you all the things he wants to do to you. And he’ll remind you about how you begged for him last time and how easily you cu for him

Basically he just makes it impossible to ignore

Oikawa Tooru

Imma just say: the reason you got with this guy is because he practically begged on his knees for it 

Everyday, everytime you passed him he would tell you how amazing you looked and how you would be such a good couple

Y’know, pretty + sexiest girl on the planet = power couple! 

It's basic math! 

And eventually you gave in and he was ecstatic! 

You were his!!! Him him him his!!!!!!!!!

Honestly, i think he’s the type to match outfits

So he doesn't care what your wearing because he always looks like you belong to him anyways 

But that being said, if he doesnt have something to match, you can't wear it 

What a diva 

There is one exception to this

A royal blue, v-neck, off the shoulder, skin tight, mid-thigh dress

You didn't have that thing on for two minutes before he was ripping it off. 

You guys were a no-show to whatever event you were supposed to be at 

He’s far more vocal about when he wants to have sex 

Sometimes he’ll just yell across the room that he wants head

But you have Iwaizumi to hit him in the back of the head and put him in his place 

He will bend you over something and fake bang you

Or he’ll pull you onto his lap and have you ride him

He’s just really horny and somehow seems to get what he wants when he wants by just being a persistent bastard

Sugawara Koshi

He’s your biggest hype man! 

You could be wearing a potato sack and hes be smiling as clapping telling you how great you like 

He’s like a facebook mom, he takes pictures of you all the time and just brags about you to everyone 

He also takes the best instagram photos 

He ever so slightly makes you wear more modest stuff (not that it matters) 

But it does help with some of the rando’s who try to get with you  literally every time you go out 

You also seem to be a catcall magnet

And HE barks back at them 

Like “bark” “woof woof” kinda bark 

Every time, he has not let anyone pass

Now a horny Koishi is just like regular Koshi but every so slightly more snappy

But he mostly just attaches himself to your rear and just sits 

He’ll stand behind you and grind or he’ll rock the both of you back and forth so it looks slightly less like he’s trying to bang you

But if you’re teasing him alot he’ll just grab you and take you to your room or another room and just bang 

Either way he’s getting what he wants 

Futakuchi Kenji 

This guy shows you off!

He wanted everyone to know that you are his and his only! 

He’s a lucky guys and wants everyone to know it 

He isn’t to controlling of what you wear but that doesn't mean he doesn't get turned on

(he does, and fairly easily) 

Any kind of booty short

They frame your ass like the fuking Mona Lisa, it should be illegal. And how they accent your thighs and make them look so soft and cuddly 

Short-ish dresses

I'm talking mid-thigh, frilly, like the type that people take the panty shots from. It's just that they are always shorter in the back and sometimes he can see your panties under them. 

One time you were making something in the kitchen with one of them on and he just laid in between your legs and just started….from the floor…...up to your panities 

(like a creep)

Any many other random articles of clothing, but those two just seemed to set him off the most. 

He’s demanding horny boy 

He wastes no time in just grinding on you and telling you how much of a whore you are for getting turned on. 

He also has no shame in doing in while people watch

Waiting is such a hassle and if he could just fick you in an alley he’s going to

Let all those jerks see who you love <3

[cinnaminsvga]

Dumbo | Jungkook (M)

→ summary: you know what they say about boys with big noses...

{or alternatively: jungkook has a big dick but he doesn’t know how to use it, but luckily you’re there to help.}

→ genre: humor/crack, smut → warnings: they talk about dicks a lot (i.e. jungkook has a big dick), DICK MEASURING CONTESTS (aka jk gets his dick appraised... just boys bein’ boys), explicit sexual content, semi-public exhibitionism, handjobs, blowjobs, sub!jungkook, whining, light dirty talk, mild pain play, mutual masturbation, jungkook has piercings, accidental edging (you’ll... understand), oc doesn’t have a gag reflex lol → words: 17.2K → a/n: @jincherie... you are my enabler and i will die on this hill only if you die on it with me. but of course i know you will die with me. because we only have one braincell and if either of us die, we both do. thank you for commissioning me to write this btw... even though i was already writing this so you just basically sent me money for free. ANYWAY... WORLD IS FUCK BUT I LOVE RHA!! ALSO JUNGKOOK HAS A BIG DICK!! EPIC!!

The club lights make it difficult for Jungkook to see anything. He doesn’t understand why club owners can’t just jack up the lighting for once; it isn’t like you’re going to be able to find a hook-up through echolocation or something. Though, judging by the way people seem to be groping their way through the masses, perhaps there really is no need for illumination anyway.

Jungkook normally hates this kind of scene. Drinking is all good and fun, especially when he’s with his hyungs, but going to overly crowded places makes his skin crawl with anxiety. It takes almost three shots during pre-game for him to get anywhere near this kind of place and it’s all thanks to Seokjin. That hyung thrives in these kinds of environments, like a clipped butterfly relearning how to fly.

“I’m gonna get shit fucked wasted!” Seokjin hollers, his arm looped carelessly around the only other person who hates being here as much as Jungkook does. He watches passively as Yoongi tries to bite a chunk off of Seokjin’s hand, but despite his inebriation, their eldest hyung is able to dodge it quickly.

“Not before I kill you, then everyone else in this place, and then myself, first.” Yoongi growls, nudging Seokjin off his smaller frame. If the world hadn’t been swaying underneath Jungkook’s feet, he might have offered to help his small hyung do the deed. If there’s anyone who hates nightclubs more than Jungkook, it’s Yoongi. Jungkook is frightened to know how Seokjin managed to convince Yoongi in the first place, and he’d prefer not to find out what sort of terrible blackmail the elder must have under his sleeve to accomplish such an arduous feat.

Just as Yoongi is about to connect his steel-toed boot up Seokjin’s freshly bleached asshole, Jimin returns from the bar with three glasses held precariously in each of his fists. Jungkook wonders yet again how this is possible due to the sheer tininess of Jimin’s hands, but then again... What can’t Jimin do when it comes to alcohol?

“I’m back! Here you go, Jungkookie,” Jimin says, seamlessly handing Jungkook a glass of what he hopes is just a regular beer like he asked. Knowing Jimin, he probably ordered the strongest shit they have. He peers at it suspiciously, but it only takes half a sip for Jungkook to confirm his guess. He grimaces, nearly coughing out a lung at the strength of the poison running down his throat.

“That tasted like fucking metal polish! What the fuck, Jimin?”

“I know! It’s great isn’t it?” Jimin smiles angelically, handing Yoongi one of the drinks. Yoongi looks at the swirling piss-yellow liquid as if it holds the secrets to the universe. It appears as if he’s decided something when his eyes light up.

“Oh my god, this drink is gonna kill me,” he says, not an ounce of fear in his voice. Jimin nods, not even trying to hide his deception.

“I promised the bartender a blowie if he could give me the strongest shit they had,” Jimin shrugs. “Dude literally went to the back room and took out this bottle that looked like it came from Napoleon’s secret stash of hooker piss.” He sniffs the drinks thoughtfully. “Yea, I could believe that.”

“I hate this!” Jungkook cries at no one in particular.

“Tough shit! We’re in this together!” Yoongi groans, downing the entire contents of his drink in one go before promptly being swallowed whole by the crowd. Seokjin hoots, hastily waving goodbye to Jungkook and Jimin before following Yoongi and diving into the sweaty masses like a seasoned Olympian.

“I hope they don’t die like last time,” Jungkook sighs, forcing himself to take a big gulp of his drink. It sears against his throat like a brand, which probably has an inscription saying “Jeon Jungkook has bad taste in friends.”

Jimin shrugs his shoulders. “Well, like Namjoon said a while ago, we’re gonna meet by the bar in 2 hours to check if everyone is still alive and we’ll find out then. Okay, Kook?”

Jimin has reminded him of this for the umpteenth time, though he can’t blame him for being extra careful. Last time the whole gang went to the club, Hoseok had gotten stuck in an elevator at his hook-up’s place and had cried for 5 hours straight before one of them thought to look for him. The time before that, Taehyung had ingested two times his bodyweight of margaritas and he had found himself in Japan the next morning with an extra $500 in his pocket.

Yeah. They’re idiots, but at least they’re idiots who will try not to make the same mistakes as last time. Key word being “try.”

Jungkook looks around the club, but he can’t find any awkward looking lanky people anywhere. “Where is Namjoon-hyung, by the way? Haven’t seen him since we split up.”

“Who the hell knows?” Jimin laughs, the sound drowning out when the DJ suddenly decides to play a death metal version of Dance the Night Away by Twice. Jimin’s eyes light up. “Ooooh shit! This is my song! See ya later, Kook!”

“W-wait, those drinks! Aren’t they for the others––“

“Bitch, you think these are for them?” Jimin begins to double fist his alcohol with the thirstiness of a man in a desert, or a twink confronted with two dicks. Either or.

To Jungkook’s horror, the crowd has seemingly grown thrice in size since they’ve arrived and he watches as Jimin’s body is slowly getting consumed by the masses, though he doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest. He leans into a random guy's back, a look of bliss on his face. He salutes lazily at Jungkook. “Anyway. See you in 2 hours, Kook! Try to have fun!”

Try to have fun, his ass.

Unlike Jimin, Jungkook doesn’t particularly feel like being crushed by sweaty hormonal bodies; instead, he chooses to head to the bar. He surreptitiously dumps his drink into the trash, feeling kind of bad for discarding a free drink, but Jungkook doesn’t want to get shit-fucked wasted like the rest of them are. Perhaps he’ll be the designated driver today, even though his vision is still kind of swimming. Well, he could probably walk in a straight line if he used all his brainpower. Which isn’t a lot, but you know. People learn to make do.

It takes him a while to find an empty stool by the bar and he is unlucky enough to be squished between two couples who don’t seem to be aware that public indecency is a crime. He has to endure being jostled for five minutes straight until the bartender finally notices him and allow him to order his can of coke.

(“Sorry, kid. The banana milk is all sold out. Some girl ordered our entire stock for her friends a few hours ago.” And just like that, Jungkook wants to die all over again.)

He does not know for how long he sits by the bar. Well, that’s a blatant lie, because he knows that he’s been sitting there for 18 minutes and 34 seconds exactly. He’s checked his phone religiously every 2 minutes to see if 2 hours have passed already, just so he can ask one of his stupid friends to go home with him. Perhaps he could coerce Jimin into turning in early for once (which is a pipedream, not when the DJ seems adamant to play Jimin’s favorite Christina Aguilera song 70 times in a row.)

So in short, Jungkook is miserable. He could go home by himself, but also he doesn’t want to end up having to walk to the police station the next morning to bail his friends out after one of them inevitably destroys public property again.

Fuck. Maybe he shouldn’t have thrown away his other drink.

He’s so deep in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice that one of the couples beside him have already left and that another person has taken their spot. He is jarred from his musings when a well-manicured hand is placed delicately on his shoulder, urging him to swivel the barstool around to face his soon-to-be acquaintance.

“Hey,” you say, a sultry smile on your lips. Jungkook feels his mouth immediately fill with cotton as he stares at your beautiful face, the dingy lighting of the club doing nothing to suppress the wicked glint in your eyes.

“Uhh… hey?” Jungkook replies, as charming and verbose as ever. If it isn’t obvious enough, Jungkook is a little lacking in the girls department, or at least, when it comes to girls-who-are-blatantly-flirting with him department. He normally isn’t this socially inept around the opposite gender, but given the connotations of this circumstance, his overactive male brain can only be restrained so much before it starts wandering towards dangerous territory.

It doesn’t help that the neckline of your dress is bordering on obscene, and Jungkook is afraid that if you move one more inch towards him, something very embarrassing might happen to the both of you (probably more so for him, if he’s being quite honest.)

“I couldn’t help but notice you from across the club and thought I should introduce myself,” you explain, gaze unashamedly trailing down his body. Jungkook can feel the heat from you radiating in waves, burning him from the inside out as he tries not to melt into a puddle in a pathetic attempt to get the fuck out of there.

“You saw me? But it’s… so dark in here…” Jungkook wants to fucking murder himself. That’s what he decides to say to you? God, no fucking wonder he’s a virgin. Good looks really aren’t everything when he doesn’t have a brain controlling the rest of his body. There might as well be a fucking hamster running laps inside of his skull for all he knew.

Thankfully (or unthankfully––God knows Jungkook’s stress levels aren’t lowering any time soon), you find his response funny enough to warrant a chuckle. You bat your eyes salaciously at him, which Jungkook didn’t even think was possible. People can be sexy? When they blink? Apparently, you can do that.

You shrug your shoulders. “That’s true. You caught me in a lie, I suppose. I actually knew you were coming even before you arrived.”

Jungkook chokes on his own spit then, nearly spraying you with his saliva like the dog that he is. His eyes bug out of his sockets, his body going tense with nerves. "You... you knew? What... What does that even mean?"

You point over your shoulder, gesturing vaguely at the crowd on the dance floor. "I'm friends with Seokjin over there. He mentioned you were coming with him to the club tonight so I decided to tag along."

"You know Seokjin-hyung?" The alarm bells in Jungkook's head start ringing wildly out of control. Nothing good ever comes out of being friends with Seokjin, especially since his presence alone has the power to make the creases in your brain to smoothen. Take it from someone who's been there, done that.

"Yep," you say, popping your 'p.' "I met him in my first-year English course, though I still don't know why a third-year like him was taking it in the first place."

"It's because he doesn't know how to read," Jungkook says plainly.

"I can tell. He uses voice-to-text exclusively and Siri can never spell Asian names correctly," you shrug your shoulders. "Either that, or he just doesn't know how to spell your name."

"Yea. I'm permanently John Jung Cock on his phone," Jungkook replies. He shakes his head. "Hold on, we were talking about something before this."

"Oh. About how I casually revealed to you that I was stalking you through our mutually insane friend?"

"Y-Yea, basically." Jungkook doesn't even understand what the fuck is happening right now. "I mean! Not exactly? Like, for all I know, you could've just asked hyung who he was coming with and he mentioned my name and––"

"Listen, kid. I straight up just told you I'm stalking you. Let's skip the foreplay and get to the meat of it: I'm literally following you," you say, without an inch of regret, embarrassment, or morality in your tone of voice.

Jungkook, who despite being filled with so much fear and tension enough to kill the small hamster inside his brain, is somehow able to keep his calm in front of the psychopath in front of him. Either that, or he's already in the middle of a stroke and he's lost all his fine motor skills.

"I... I don't know what to say."

"You don't need to say anything, baby," you murmur, leaning even closer to him until your chest was practically pressed against his. The thin layer of your dress and his well-worn cotton tee does nothing to help the situation (both in general and the one in his pants). He can feel your every curve, can smell the sweet perfume you're wearing; you were enveloping his senses. If he tried hard enough, he could probably count your eyelashes if he so desired with how close you were.

He knows he should probably be running away in terror right now, but he finds himself stuck resolutely to the barstool, unable to move. Maybe Jimin was right... Maybe he did have a fear kink or something.

("Isn't that just called masochism?" Jungkook asks, brows raised.

Jimin only laughs, patting him on the back condescendingly. "Nah, dude. You just straight up wanna die by the hands of a hot person, and I can respect that homie. We all have been there.")

“W-what do you want from me?” Jungkook asks, sweat lining his brow. You’re still looking at him like he was a meal, but he finds he probably doesn’t mind being devoured by you.

Your wicked grin returns, full force. “I just want to play, Jungkook. But why don’t we discuss this… somewhere more private?”

Thunk. Was that the sound of his heart dropping out of his ass, or his brain pressing against the left side of his skull, or his dick hitting the roof? Jungkook isn’t sure, but he does know he wants to see where this night will take him.

He lets you lead the way, squeezing through sweaty bodies and elbowing a stray hand or two. Jungkook swears he feels a guy grope him on the way out, but before he can even sock the guy in the jaw, you’re already one step ahead of him. You hiss menacingly at the dudebro, raising your long acrylic nails in a show of dominance like you’re from some wildlife documentary. The guy audibly whines, running away from the two of you with his tail between his legs.

Jungkook stares at you incredulously. “How the fuck did you––”

“I’ve gone to tango classes with that dude. I have his mom’s phone number,” you explain nonchalantly. Instantly, Jungkook feels himself hardening in his pants.

You manage to get to where the washroom stalls are. You brazenly walk past the line of girls at the women’s section, but Jungkook is even more confused when you also pass by the men’s section. You turn the corner, where a bunch of tables and chairs were being kept. Then, you begin to knock down some of the extra chairs stacked against the wall, which is where Jungkook discovers there is an unused wheelchair accessible washroom.

“Why is this washroom being kept hidden?” he wonders aloud, sneaking guilty looks over his shoulder. No one seems to have noticed that the two of you are blatantly trespassing property, but you don’t look all that stressed about it.

You look at him weirdly. “Dude. You can barely walk in this club without getting groped, poked, or doped. As much as I’m all for accessibility, I don’t think wheelchair-bound people are gonna have much of a good time here.”

Jungkook feels as though he should be saying something profound about the need for establishments to be accessible or something, but the strain in his pants really wasn’t doing many wonders on his verbosity right now. Maybe next time.

You make quick work of the barricade and you get the door open in no time. You push him hastily inside, making him yelp as he tries to find his way around the darkened room. You flip the switch on somewhere behind him, illuminating the washroom to find… a toilet. That’s it.

“Well, they certainly didn’t think about interior decorating,” Jungkook says, laughing nervously as you click the door locked. He turns, watching as you pull the black elastic that was on your wrist and begin to tie your hair. You smile cheekily at him, the implications of what is about to happen very much apparent.

“Nah, they didn’t. But the room gets the job done and that’s all we want, don’t we?” You purr, taking the two short steps you need to get close to him once more. You trail a well-manicured nail down his chest, circling around his nipple teasingly but not doing anything more. His breathing turns more shallow, and he knows for sure that his eyes must look crazed to you right now.

You bring your finger lower and lower, grazing the top of his belt buckle and staying there. You look up at him, licking your lips as your gaze trails down to his own. Once again, he feels paralyzed as you take him in and he wishes for all the horny gods from above that you would finally end the torture and finally close the distance.

Taking some pity on him, you rest your lips against his throat, suckling gently enough that Jungkook knows it won’t leave a mark. His hands instantly come up to grab your waist, as if urging you to go harder, to make it hurt.

You smirk against his skin, deciding at that moment to bite down, hard. Jungkook yelps, before the sound morphs into an unabashed moan. His cheeks pinken, embarrassed at the volume of his voice.

“I-I…”

“Don’t worry, Jungkook…” you whisper, soothing the bite with your tongue. You pop off his skin, your lips slightly redder than before. “I’ll take good care of you, darling.”

See, Jungkook doesn’t doubt you in the slightest. As for his own skills at taking care of you when the time comes… now that’s a little bit of a gamble.

Jungkook isn’t a virgin, per se… He lost his virginity during his last year of high school to some girl he met at a party, and suffice to say, he didn’t last long. He’s had a few girlfriends in the past, but none of them ever wanted to get with him once they saw his dick. You see, he had a bit of a problem…

He wasn’t small, by the way. Don’t get him wrong. In fact, he was kinda––

Jungkook is pulled away from his thoughts when you suddenly drop down to your knees, your hands grabbing onto his thighs for support. He’s almost worried that you’d injured yourself from how fast you’d dropped, but you don’t seem all that bothered by how deftly your fingers moved to unbuckle his belt.

When you get it loosened, your hands stop by the button of his jeans and you look up at him with expectation. Jungkook almost whines when your hands drift back to your lap.

You snort, amused. “What? You think I’m gonna do all the work here, buddy? Come on, strip for me.” you say, sitting on your haunches as you wait for him to move.

The strain in his pants was getting downright painful at this point, so Jungkook is more than eager to follow your orders. Still, his hands are shaking the entire time, so it takes him a few extra seconds before he can finally unbutton his stupid jeans and pull down his stupid zipper. Even through his loose boxers, the outline of his dick is very apparent, with a small wet spot already staining the front of his boxers a darker blue.

“Uh, I have to say a disclaimer first though,” Jungkook squeaks, suddenly shy under the intense gaze you were pointing straight at his dick. It twitches slightly, and your eyes follow it like a cat ready to pounce. “I’m… kinda on the bigger side, so I just want to ask if you’re sure––”

“Baby, I was sure even before I came to this club,” you say, trance-like. Your fists clench and unclench by your sides. “Now, shut up before I change my mind.”

“But––” Jungkook doesn’t get to finish his sentence, stunned to silence when you quite literally rip his boxers off of him like a magician trying to prove something. His dick springs up half-way, still not fully hard as it’s always taken him a little bit more goading before he can get to full mast. Yea, he was that big.

You stare at it for a moment, going cross-eyed as you stared at his tip head-on like some sort of perverse gun barrel. You don’t move for so long that Jungkook is afraid that he might have freaked you out with the size of his cock, though you wouldn’t be the first in a long shot. He’s about to apologize, prepared to pull up his pants in shame and walk home with half a log in his crotch. He’s already shifting his jeans back up when you place a hand on his wrist, stopping him in his tracks.

“Wait. Are you, like, only half-hard right now?” you ask, voice quiet.

Jungkook flushes. “Y-yeah… It gets a little bit bigger when I’m fully… You know…” he says, trailing off.

You’re still looking at his dick, but after further assessment, Jungkook realizes that you don’t look horrified in the slightest. In fact, you look pleased. “Jesus fuck you’re huge! Like… almost abnormally so.”

Jungkook literally feels like he’s going to die (and he hates that it’s kinda making him even hornier). “I guess so?”

“That’s a fucking log! You could stand on that thing!”

“I don’t think that’s possible, but––”

“Seokjin had told me you were huge, but I didn’t believe him because, well, the way he described it was that you had a literal third leg hiding under there. Who would have thought that Seokjin isn’t full of shit after all,” you say, awestruck.

“I’m really not that big––wait, Seokjin has talked to you about my dick? What the fuck? Since WHEN?” Seokjin was just out there in the world? Telling strangers about his dick? That hyung is seriously getting smashed WWE style the next time he sees him, and it’s NOT going to be sexy.

You wave him off. “Oh, don’t worry. He doesn’t just tell anyone. He let it slip because he was defending your honor,” you shrug.

In the midst of Jungkook’s mental breakdown at the realization that one of his closest friends just told a random girl that he’s got a meter long King Kong dong, he doesn’t notice that you’ve already stood up from where you were kneeling. You pull down the toilet seat cover, seating yourself on it and rubbing your reddened knees with a pout. “Ouch. Damn, I’m not used to kneeling for men anymore. Sorry, where was I? Oh right!”

You snap your fingers together, smiling gleefully at Jungkook. “So! I dragged you in here to give you my proposition, you see. I have a deal to make with you.”

Jungkook looks down at his cock, which was still red and dripping pre-cum, before turning back to you. “And this has something to do with… my dick?”

“Precisely!” you cheer, glad that he seems to be on the same page as you when he was in fact, not. “Sorry about tricking you, by the way. I’ll suck your dick after this if you’re still game, but only if you agree with my plan.”

“Your plan?”

“Yep,” you say, popping your ‘p’ once more. “You see, I have an ex-boyfriend. His name is Lee Taeyong, ever heard of him?”

Jungkook vaguely knows the upperclassman, though he can’t say he’s ever spoken to him. “Kinda. What does he have to do with me?”

“Well, if you really heard of him, then you’d already be one step ahead. Seeing as how it’s not already connecting for you––” you point to his dick, poking the sensitive head with the grace of a 5-year old at a petting zoo, “––then you don’t know that Lee Taeyong has the biggest dick on campus. Allegedly.”

“Allegedly,” Jungkook repeats. He still doesn’t follow.

“Well, I wouldn’t know either because I’ve never seen his dick, so––”

“Wait wait wait. Wait.” Jungkook’s hamster brain is running a mile a minute. There have been way too many absurdities spoken in the last five minutes and he doesn’t think he’s drunk enough to deal with your insanity right now. “Let’s dissect this one at a time, shall we? First of all, how can you not know how big your boyfriend’s dick is?”

“My ex-boyfriend. And we only dated for like three days, and I don’t fuck until a week has passed, okay? I don’t play like that,” you say as if you didn’t just lure Jungkook to this dingy washroom only to give him blue balls and trauma.

“Okay, whatever. So what if he has a big dick? What does that have to do with me?”

You roll your eyes. “How can you not understand yet? I’m on the hunt for our university’s biggest dick, of course! And you, Jungkook, might just be my ticket to the number one prize.”

There is a long pause. Jungkook stares and stares at you, waiting for you to shout “Surprise! You’re being pranked, bro!” and for all the cameramen to come out and shower him in confetti and dollar bills or something. But no, nothing like that happened. He just continues to stand there with his dick out, while you sit on a dingy toilet seat with your legs crossed comfortably as if you were just two friends having a regular conversation.

After a while, Jungkook comes to a conclusion. “You’re being serious.”

You snort, annoyed as if you were the one being inconvenienced. “Of course I am, dude. I don’t stalk just about anybody to see their dick. I’m not that insane.”

Jungkook feels as though your judgment on sanity should probably be taken with a grain of salt. “S-sure. Right. You’re definitely not insane.”

“And you have a big dick! I’m glad you can see where I’m coming from,” you say, nodding sagely. You peer at his dick once more, brows furrowed as you think deeply to yourself. “Hmm… Yea, I’d say you’d be at least equally as big as him. If all else fails, I can split the winnings and get half the amount of money if you––”

“No,” Jungkook says.

You raise your brow. “Yes?” you try.

“Yes–I mean, what? No!” Jungkook repeats, shaking his head furiously. "Are you even hearing yourself? You expect me to get into a dick measuring contest with your ex just so you can, what? Get revenge on him or something?"

"Not for revenge." You lean closer to him, face inches away from his dick but you don't seem perturbed in the slightest. "It's for money," you whisper, grinning slyly.

"Money," Jungkook repeats.

You clap your hands excitedly. "Exactly! So Taeyong and I didn't actually break up on bad terms. We only got together to make Doyoung, his crush, jealous enough to confess his feelings. But now, that dumb bitch thinks that now that he's with Taeyong, he can make fun of me for not being able to handle Taeyong's dark horse cock––"

"Can you please stop talking like an insane person," Jungkook pleads. His comment remains unheard.

"––so we made a bet that Taeyong doesn't actually have the biggest dick on campus and that I'm dating a guy with an even bigger meat thermometer than he does," you finish, snapping your fingers with a flourish. There's a twinkle in your eye: it's misplaced excitement coupled with extreme insanity, Jungkook realizes.

"That's good and all, but there's just one problem."

"What?" You tilt your head, confused.

"We're not exactly dating, are we?"

"Details, details... What Doyoung and Taeyong don't know won't hurt them," you say, shrugging your shoulders.

Jungkook rolls his eyes. "Of course," he says, leaning against the grimy bathroom wall. He goes to tuck Jungkook Jr. back into his pants, his dick finally softening after the last ten minutes of psychological torture courtesy of yours truly, but you're quick to slap his hand away, making him yelp in surprise.

"No! I like looking at it," you say. You stare at his dick with rapt fascination. "It's kinda like looking at a weird, deformed baby leg. Beautiful, but haunting all at once."

Jungkook huffs, staring at you in equal parts disbelief and awe. If he thought Seokjin was mentally unhinged, then you're definitely on your way towards uncharted psychotic territory. It was kind of amazing how you could just say shit without any brain to mouth filter, in your own twisted way. "Listen, lady. I don't even fucking know what your name is, but I am not helping you win some stupid bet and showing my dick to even more strangers than I have to, okay?"

You consider him, lips pursing slightly. "Why, do you have any other plans this weekend?"

Jungkook falters. "I... No, I don't––"

You shrug your shoulders, as if that's the end of that problem. "Then it's settled! I don't see why you can't just do this out of the goodness of your heart?"

"For the last time, I won't do it even if––"

"I'll split the prize with you? 50/50? That's $1000 for having a huge dick! Every incel's wet dream!"

Jungkook pauses in his rant, choking on his spit. His jaw drops comically, unsure if he heard you right. "Did you say one... grand?"

Hook, line, and sinker. You know you caught him the moment his eyes bugged out of their sockets. You smirk, crossing your arms triumphantly as you gaze upon his desperate and broke college ass (and dick). “So? Having second thoughts?"

Jungkook is quiet for a moment. He opens his mouth, then closes it. He tries to wrap his head around the number, unsure if he should be worried about how ready he is to drop his pants for money. Have I completely lost it? Am I that much of an idiot? he wonders, but then again… He’d be an even bigger idiot for letting free money go down the drain.

“Where is this money even coming from?” he asks, even though he knows his guard is already dropping quickly.

You wave your hand flippantly. “Oh, Doyoung is filthy rich. I imagine that $2000 is nothing to him,” you say, picking at a hangnail. “It’s not much money to me either, but my pride is mostly at stake here. If you want, you could take all the money as a prize, so long as you make that bitch eat his heart out.”

Jungkook feels his dick twitch and he knows that you notice. “Two… thousand…” He accidentally moans, gripping his thighs to prevent himself from nutting. “That’s…”

You tilt your head, arching a brow. “Not enough? I could put in an extra $500 if you’re really against this whole thing. To be fair, I wouldn’t wanna expose my coochie to a random person either––”

“Two thousand five hundred? Are you fucking insane?” Jungkook exclaims, voice cracking at the end. He clears his throat, but it still feels like his lungs are on fire.

“Okay, three grand it is but I’m not going any higher than that,” you huff, shaking your head. “Mr. Jeon, you really do drive a hard bargain, though I always notice that well-endowed men tend to think they deserve the universe, so I’m not surprised.” You chuckle to yourself, as if anything about this situation is worth laughing at. Jungkook feels like that one time he had inhaled an entire helium balloon in one breath when he was younger: kinda nauseous but also kinda euphoric. Is it bad that his dick is stirring awake right now? Hello?

You put your hand out, looking at him expectantly. “Well? Do we have a deal or not?”

Jungkook takes a deep breath and accesses his options carefully. Does he:

Give up his low self-esteem for money and enter an actual dick-measuring contest with some stranger;

There is no other option. Jungkook wants money.

He exhales, a migraine already throbbing incessantly in the back of his skull. He thrusts his hand forward, gripping yours harshly in a firm handshake. “I’m in,” he says, without missing a beat. Your smile brings a shiver down his back, and he can’t help but wonder if this is what Judas felt like when he betrayed Jesus, except he’s betraying no one but his own self-worth.

Well, he always did wonder how much his life was worth and three grand doesn’t seem like that big of a stretch. Oh well.

“Nice,” you chuckle, seemingly vibrating from excitement. You slip behind him, grabbing his phone from the back pocket of his jeans (which were still, by the way, pooled around his thighs because his dick was still out. Just to remind you guys in case you forgot. OP doesn’t want you to ever forget about it.) You flick open his phone, cackling maniacally when you realize he doesn’t even have a password on.

Jungkook squawks. “Hey, what are you––”

“I’m saving my number on your phone,” you explain. He can barely see what you were typing into his phone contacts, but he doesn’t miss the way you attach a heart emoji beside your name. You open his texts, sending yourself an octopus emoji that just so happened to be Jungkook’s most frequently used emoji. You snort. “Octopus emoji, huh? Seems appropriate… Can’t help but think it was a sign that this might have been destiny.”

“I just like takoyaki…” Jungkook defends himself sulkily.

“Yea? Well I like cock,” you say. You pause, furrowing your brows. “Oh, I meant to say chicken. Same thing.”

You hand back his phone, grabbing your small purse that you had thrown aside onto the washroom floor. You straighten your dress, looking to all the world as if you hadn’t just offered a stranger three grand to show his dick. “Well, it was nice meeting you, Jungkook. I expect to see you soon, maybe this weekend if you’re free. I’ll text you the details of when we’ll meet next. Toodles!” you wave, sending him a flying kiss for extra measure. Jungkook’s eye twitches, and he wonders not for the first time tonight if he was trapped in a coma and was slowly passing away.

Just as you are about to head out the door, you stop in your tracks, turning back to face him. You give him a curious expression, gaze dragging downwards until you were staring down the barrel of his dick once more. “Hey, sorry about leaving you hanging like that, by the way. I would love to help you finish, but I have a ride to catch. Raincheck?”

Not waiting for an answer, you saunter away with a spring in your step. The door swings back closed, leaving Jungkook alone for the first time in what feels like forever: just him, his dick, and the promise of three thousand dollars on the horizon.

“I’m so fucking stupid,” Jungkook groans, sliding down to the floor. He fists his cock in his hand, groaning loudly when he feels the pleasure jolt up his spine like electricity. As he listens to the sounds of his heavy breathing and the slick mess in his hands, he can’t help but wonder if Jimin was right… Maybe he did have a thing for insane hot girls who were out to kill him.

x x x x x

After Jungkook cleans himself up, he marches out of the washroom with as much dignity as he can muster. Which is to say that he walked out of there with his head bowed in shame, meekly navigating the crowded club in search of his friends.

It isn’t hard, considering that Jimin was currently hanging on the fucking ceiling from a disco ball. A group of men stand at the bottom, all of them eagerly eyeing his fat ass as Jimin dangerously humped the shiny ball of metal like his life depended on it.

“Okaaaay guys! The moment this disco ball drops, whoever catches me first gets to fuck me tonight so try your best to grab me~!” Jimin singsongs from his perch, howling madly as all the horny motherfuckers scramble all over each other, desperate to catch him lest he meets his maker.

“I. Hate. My. Life.” Jungkook sighs, striding past the group of men easily with his superior upper body strength. “Move, incels. This twink isn’t letting any of you simps touch his ass. He just likes the attention.”

“Aww, Jungkookie! Don’t ruin my fun~! Unless you wanna catch me and we can finally fu––” Jimin screams mid-sentence, just as the cord holding him and the disco ball snaps. All the guys step over themselves to catch him, but Jungkook is stronger and faster. He catches Jimin mid-air, snatching him in an instant and hoisting him over his shoulder. Everyone cheers and hollers, clapping for him as Jimin continues to giggle hysterically into his back.

“Yay! Jungkookie is gonna fuck meeeee,” Jimin pats him on the ass, but Jungkook ignores him. He goes around the club, searching for the rest of his friends until he has five dangling bodies hanging off his body like some six-headed freak.

Well, it’s soon going to be five-headed after he beheads Seokjin, whom Jungkook is certain just vomited all over the back of his jeans.

“I can’t fucking find Yoongi-hyung.” Jungkook grits his teeth, his nose assaulted by the stench of Namjoon’s armpit as the elder contorts himself into a more comfortable position. “Stop fucking moving, you long-legged bastard. Why’d you have to be born with such good body proportions?”

“And why are you so hot, Jungkook?” Taehyung swoons from somewhere underneath Hoseok, who seems to be either passed out or dead; Jungkook didn’t pause to check for a pulse.

“Pretty sure Yoongi went home,” Seokjin slurs, a second wave of nausea hitting him as he struggles to keep the alcohol inside of him a bit longer. “Ugh… Said he saw his roommate and they went home together.”

“God, it better be his fucking roommate and not another person trying to sell his organs again.” Jungkook sighs. “Either way, we’re all going home. We’ve done enough damage for tonight.”

“Jungkookie, did you have any fun at all tonight? Didn’t see you around,” Namjoon quips, managing to wriggle out of Jungkook’s grip and fall face flat on the curb. He whines pathetically, not making a move to stand up again. “Ugh. I didn’t even drink a lot tonight so why...?”

“It’s because you’re Namjoon,” Jungkook supplies helpfully. He lets the rest of his friends down, making sure they are leaning against the wall for support (or sitting against the wall in Hoseok’s case). “Alright, I’m calling cabs. Seokjin-hyung, I’m staying over at your place tonight.”

Jimin, who was already slowly falling asleep where he stands, perks up in attention at that. “Wait, you’re coming home with me and Seokjin? Are we reaaaally gonna fuck?” Jimin tries to wiggle his eyebrows suggestively, but to Jungkook, it just looks like he’s having a stroke.

“I’m done nutting for tonight. We are sleeping once we get home and that’s it,” Jungkook snorts, crossing his arms.

“OOOOOOOH? JUNGKOOK GOT FUCKED AT THE CLUB!”

“GET IT BOY!”

“OH SHIT HE FINALLY USED HIS PURPLE-HEADED YOGURT FINGER!”

“DAMN DUDE? DAMN? DAMN?”

“AW, YOU FUCKED SOMEONE WITHOUT ME?”

Jungkook swears he had heard Hoseok speak amidst the yelling from his friends, but his hyung still remains mysteriously hunched over and dead to the world. “None of your businesses. Anyway, a cab is coming soon and I swear to God, if any of you piss or vomit in that poor man’s vehicle, I will make sure none of you live to see the light of day, okay?”

Jimin turns to Taehyung, who just happened to be beside him. “Not gonna lie, but I kinda jizzed in my pants just now. That was kinda hot.” Taehyung only nods in agreement.

An hour and thirty minutes later, Jungkook manages to get the last of his idiot friends home, leaving only him, Seokjin, and Jimin as they tiredly trudge up the steps to the apartment. It takes an additional twenty minutes for Seokjin to figure out where he’d left his keys, only for Jimin to raise his finger for them to wait as he hid behind some bushes while unbuckling his jeans. When he comes out of the bushes, pantless, he has a key raised with a victorious smirk on his face.

“Don’t ask where I keep this,” is all he says and Jungkook is glad that he had rejected Seokjin’s offer to permanently move in as their roommate.

They all stumble into the apartment, with Seokjin falling immediately onto the couch. He curls up into a little ball, snoring the moment his eyes shut. Jungkook wants to shake him awake, eager to interrogate him about what happened between you and him just a few hours ago at the club. Even if he wanted to wake him up, Jungkook is sure nothing can rouse the elder; this fact is confirmed when Jungkook dumps water on him, only for Seokjin to keep sleeping soundly like a baby.

“Well, hyung is dead. Guess it’s time for me to die too,” Jimin says sleepily, the horniness and insanity from the club already wearing off. He pats Jungkook gently on the head, pointing towards Seokjin’s room. “Sleep there. I’ll hand you an extra blanket because I wouldn’t trust that hyung’s sheets. Let’s sleep, yeah?”

Left with no other choice, Jungkook heads to Seokjin’s bedroom, jumping onto the unmade sheets and pretending not to notice the crusty unknown substance on the corner of the bed. He can’t fall asleep, not when he’s left haunted by the weight on his chest (and dick). Jungkook fiddles with his phone, staring wide-eyed at the name displayed tauntingly on his screen.

Y/N L/N.

He was gonna have a nightmare tonight, that’s for sure.

x x x x x

Jungkook wakes up early, much to his chagrin. He’d really like to stay dead to the world for much longer, but the smell of coffee brewing and bacon cooking is kind of a hard deal to pass up. Jungkook shifts in bed, cringing when he realizes he went to sleep in his jeans, and more importantly, that his pants felt a lot stickier than he remembered.

He lifts the blanket up, confirming his suspicions. “Fuck!”

Well, guess he didn’t have much of a nightmare last night after all.

He shucks off his clothes, disgusted by the mess he finds in his underwear. He hobbles over to Seokjin’s closet, cringing when he finds only one (1) clean pair of shorts left, which just so happened to have “PEE IS STORED IN THE BALLS” stamped on the back in cursive font. Beggars can’t be choosers, he supposes.

Jungkook tiptoes out of the bedroom, confronted with the sight of Jimin pouring three mugs of coffee and Seokjin still slumped over the couch, a substantial amount of drool dripping down from the side of his mouth and forming a puddle on the floor. Jungkook takes a photo, saving it for later.

“Morning,” Jimin smiles from the kitchen, offering Jungkook one of the cups. Jungkook is certain that Jimin has no recollection of the events from last night, though such is Park Jimin’s way of life. He drinks to get fucked up, then he forgets, and then the cycle repeats itself anew. Jungkook wonders how Jimin always manages to wake up without a hangover, though God might have just given him a super liver in compensation for his lack of height.

“Hyung is still dead,” Jungkook states plainly, walking over to Seokjin and peering at him closely. Jungkook sticks a finger into his agape mouth, collects some of his spit, and then proceeds to give him the wettest willy of his life. Still no response.

“Let me try,” Jimin says, sauntering over to Seokjin with one of the cups of coffee. Jimin leans down, hums gently into his ear. “Hyung, wake up. We have coffee for you!”

Seokjin mumbles incomprehensibly in his sleep, snuggling deeper into the couch stuffing. Jimin tilts his head, still smiling. Then, he dumps the scalding cup of coffee all over Seokjin’s crotch.

In an instant, Seokjin screams with the pitch of a banshee, swinging his arms wildly about and nearly knocking himself out with his own fist. Jungkook and Jimin watch passively from the sidelines, waiting for the elder to finish fanning his nutsack before greeting him a pleasant morning.

“WHY ARE YOU BOTH LITERAL DEMONS?” Seokjin hollers, jumping to his feet with his scorched balls and all. Taking pity on him, Jungkook walks over to the fridge, tossing his hyung a bag of ice. And by toss, it’s more like he pitches the bag straight into his dick with the ease and speed of a seasoned baseball player, eliciting another round of pained howls.

“YOU––ASS––” Seokjin seethes, clutching the bag of ice to his nether regions. He sits down on the adjacent loveseat, expression contorting as he cups his balls gingerly. “God, it’s almost like you guys don’t think I deserve basic human decency.”

“That was just a small part of my revenge for you, after you gave my contact details to an insane woman,” Jungkook sneers, miming a punch onto Seokjin’s handsome face. Seokjin doesn’t even flinch, too busy staring at Jungkook’s legs.

“Hey, are you wearing my thot shorts?”

Jungkook looks down at the neon pink monstrosity around his hips. “You call these your thot shorts?”

Seokjin shrugs. “I got dicked down in them once. You should try.”

“Oh, did I hear something about revenge? I smell tea in here,” Jimin says, coming back from the kitchen with his own cup. “Well, I have coffee but same shit. What happened?”

“This––” Jungkook points an accusatory finger at Seokjin, “––asshole sent my location information to an insane stalker lady last night after he told her that I had a huge dick!”

Seokjin squints at him, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about Y/N! She said you told her about how big my dick was and when she asked you where I was, you told her I was going to the club with you last night!”

“Oh.” Realization dawns on Seokjin’s face, which was quickly replaced by incredulity as he stares at Jungkook. “I assumed she asked for your contact details because she had a crush on you. I was just trying to get you some pussy, bro.”

“Yeah, Kook. Not gonna lie, but I’d be dicking down girls left and right if I had a dick as big as yours,” Jimin says, eyeing the bulge in his teeny tiny shorts with interest. “In fact, I’d probably be a top if I had a dick as big as yours.”

Seokjin laughs, nearly shooting out phlegm from the strength of it. “Oh god, don’t tell me. You couldn’t get your dick hard again? Don’t worry bro, if I had a dick as big as yours, it���d take ages for it to fill up too.”

Jungkook flushes, stomping his foot in embarrassment. “That! Wasn’t the problem! The problem is––”

“––that Jungkook nuts too quickly because he doesn’t have any practice,” Jimin tuts sadly, patting the younger with a pitiful expression. “Don’t worry, Kook. Hyung is open to giving you some pointers.”

“That’s not it either!” Jungkook screams, groaning in annoyance. “She came up to me because she offered to pay me $3000 to enter a dick-measuring contest!”

Jimin and Seokjin tilt their heads in tandem, still not getting it. “So?” they both chorus, giving him a blank-eyed stare.

“Are you guys out of your mind? I got bribed into showing my dick to some strangers like some kind of weird prostitute!”

“It’s not prostitution if you’re not engaging in sexual activity,” Jimin muses, taking a long sip from his coffee. He shrugs his shoulders. “Honestly, I don’t see how this is a problem. You show some girls your dick, and you get money. Dudes would kill to be in your position.”

“Oh my God, don’t tell me,” Seokjin leers at Jungkook, and the younger almost can’t stop himself from landing another blow against the elder’s abused crotch. “You got roped into some bukkake orgy and now you’re asking your hyungs to help you? Don’t worry, Jungoo… You came to the right people. You see, Jimin and I have some experience with––”

“LALALA I CAN’T HEAR YOU!” Jungkook jams his fingers into his own ears, screaming hysterically to drown out the sounds of Seokjin and Jimin’s combined laughter. Jungkook pouts at them, glowering pathetically. “Seriously, hyungs! Do you not see how fucked up this is? Who follows a stranger to a club, pretends they’re going to give you a blowjob, only to offer 3K for you to show some strangers your dick?”

“A regular Friday night if you ask me,” Jimin says, shrugging once more. Jungkook stares at him, realizing that maybe it was the wrong idea being friends with these two lunatics in the first place. Knowing Jimin, he’d probably been in much more lewd and compromising situations than Jungkook will ever have. Rumor has it that Jimin had once done a keg stand while having his dick sucked while on vacation in Japan.  

“Well, if you were really against it, then you could have just said no?” Seokjin points out, wagging a finger at him. “I know Y/N, and yeah she’s kind of demented, but she still knows that no means no. Surely, you haven’t considered the fact that you are 1) a pushover and 2) horny for her?”

“Well, yea––No, what––No!” Jungkook splutters, stammering wildly. His two hyungs grin salaciously, gazing at him knowingly. Jungkook can only groan, as he knows that they kind of have a point. He’s always been too weak for girls and money, so when you put those two things together…

“I might be addicted to the BBC tag on Pornhub, but you my friend… You’re in it for the BBCC,” Jimin snickers, patting Jungkook comfortingly on the back. Jungkook groans into his hands, slumping onto the loveseat beside Seokjin, whose icepack had long since melted and caused the seat to be uncomfortably damp.

“BBCC? I’m almost too afraid to ask.”

“Big black credit card,” Seokjin pipes up, wrapping his own arm around Jungkook’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, bud. We all have been there.”

That’s the problem: somehow, Jungkook finds himself much too ready to accept his fate, eagerly awaiting when you’ll text him next.

x x x x x

After a much-needed shower at Jimin and Seokjin’s place, Jungkook tiredly makes his way to the nearby bus stop, ready to go home and sleep the entire weekend away. Screw his Biochemistry midterm on Monday––if he really is going to whore himself out to you, then he’s going to need all the self-care and therapy that he can get. His phone itches in the pocket of his shorts (yes, he’s still wearing the thot shorts), and he wonders if he should text his therapist and ask for an extra appointment later in the day.

Just as he’s about to pull out his phone, he senses it vibrate once, twice. He freezes in his steps, walking out of the way of busy pedestrians on the sidewalk and into a random clothing store. He sees the lone cashier staring at him from the corner of his eye, but he does not check if her gaze is filled with disgust or disgust. Probably disgust, he surmises.

Flicking his phone on, he sees two new messages from you and his heart immediately starts to hammer in his chest. No one has ever made Jungkook equal parts scared and excited, though he imagines you might have that effect on most people, what with how you look like the type to tie up unsuspecting victims to harvest their organs in your summer cottage up in the mountains or something. Or maybe that’s just Jungkook projecting.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ hey! sorry for taking so long to text you. my roommate tried to make cheesecake at 3am last night and i had to supervise in case he burned down the apartment.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ anyway, i was wondering if you were free later? some time after 5 maybe? let me know!

You already want to meet so soon. Jungkook exhales heavily through his nostrils, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to calm himself. Alright, this is fine. Jungkook is a big boy: he can handle going to a girl’s home without losing his mind. You didn’t say anything about this being the actual dick-measuring contest yet, so he can only assume this is just you asking for something else. Maybe to talk more? Maybe he’ll get a down payment for the prize money? Maybe you’ll follow through on your raincheck? God, is it wrong for him to have his dick plumping up in his shorts when you haven’t even done anything to him yet?

(On the contrary, you could say that you have done a lot for him over the past twenty four hours, though maybe not in the way most people would expect.)

from: jjk yeah i can meet you at 5. what’s this for?

from: y/n l/n ❣️ oh, nothing! i just wanted to talk to you about the actual competition and stuff. plus, i want to actually measure your dick, just so i can see how much you’re actually packing down there ;)

from: jjk ….yeah, fine. whatever.

(This really isn’t a “whatever” type of situation, but honestly, Jungkook doesn’t really know what to say anymore. He’s officially lost his singular brain wrinkle. He’s smooth brain McGee over here.)

You follow up by sharing your location with him, and he’s surprised to find that you aren’t that far away from where Jungkook was right now. He really did mean to go back to his apartment first and get changed into something more… morally acceptable, but since he hasn’t been arrested yet for public decency, he should be okay with going to your place in Seokjin’s thot shorts.

There’s something invigorating about going to your place, dressed the way he is… Maybe the shorts are somehow giving him brain hemorrhage by indirect association with Seokjin. Either that or Jungkook simply loves torturing himself by embarrassing himself constantly. Well, at least he showered and combed his hair before leaving his hyungs’ place.

He inputs your address into his phone map, taking his sweet time as he walks the short distance to your apartment. As he passes by the buildings and street corners, he can’t help but think that he might have been around this area before. He tries to rack his brain, forcing himself to remember why this route seems so familiar.

“Oh right. Yoongi-hyung’s new apartment should be around here,” he muses to himself. He wonders if his hyung had gotten home safely last night. He should probably text him to make sure, but he’s got a literal dick appointment to attend to first, so he’ll remember to check up on Yoongi once he finishes up with you.

Does that make him a shitty friend? Probably. But would Yoongi do the same if Jungkook was in his shoes? Probably.

Yeah, Jungkook and his group of friends aren’t exactly role models for a sensitive and loving relationship, though that’s not much of a surprise to anyone.

He arrives at a decent looking apartment complex, complete with its own little water fountain at the entrance. He walks through the automatic sliding doors, peers at the shiny caution tape barring him from using the elevator. He stares at your address on his phone, groaning loudly when he sees “1603” much to his annoyance.

“No wonder she had such great thighs,” Jungkook mutters angrily to himself, preparing himself for the long and arduous journey his glutes are going to endure.

Years later, Jungkook finds himself at your door, his lungs jumping out of his throat as he struggles to catch his breath. He hunches over, elbows digging into his thighs as he wipes the sweat trailing down his neck. He can see your door just near the end of the hall, but just as he’s about to crawl his way over––

“Oh. Oh my,” a familiar voice says from behind him, and Jungkook looks over his shoulder to see…

“Yoongi-hyung?” Jungkook exclaims incredulously, mouth gaping at the sight of his thought-to-be-dead hyung coming out of the elevator. He splutters for a few more moments before pointing an accusing finger at Yoongi. “You used the elevator?”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow, turning to look at the elevator with a thoughtful look. “Oh right. The elevator works. The maintenance people just forgot to remove the safety tape from last week.” Yoongi looks back at Jungkook, gaze lowering to his legs. “I see that Seokjin has provided you with his thot shorts.”

Jungkook doesn’t even try to cover himself, used to his friends seeing him in varying degrees of undress. Like, what was Yoongi going to do? Take a photo of him and post it to his Twitter for his thousands of followers to see? He wasn’t that cruel...

Snap! Yoongi pockets his phone quickly, clearing his throat. “So,” Yoongi walks up closer to him, peering at Jungkook curiously. “What brings you to my apartment? Not that I’m happy to see you, but I assumed you and the rest of our idiotic gang would have died of alcohol poisoning the night before.”

“...It’s a long story,” Jungkook says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Say... Where did you go last night, by the way? I tried to look for you, but Seokjin said your roommate brought you home?”

“Yeah. She went to the club with a bunch of her friends. She offered me a ride with her because she knew how much I hated it there,” Yoongi says, frowning. “Fuck you, by the way.”

“What the fuck? What the hell did I do?”

“I don’t know. You’re wearing Seokjin’s shorts and my ape brain told me to retaliate out of instinct,” he explains. He takes another long, good glance at his shorts. “Color me surprised that they fit you, by the way. I’d assume your huge ass would be making it rip the seams, or perhaps your dick would be saying hello.”

Jungkook pats his junk proudly. “I know, right? Big guy decided to cooperate, for some reason.”

“Will you guys stop yapping it up out in the hall? I’m pretty sure Mrs. Sy can hear you two idiots from the first floor,” a voice from behind Jungkook hisses, causing the two boys to jump up in surprise. Lo and behold, your head is peeking out from behind your door, a perfectly stenciled eyebrow arched in annoyance. “Well? Are you two coming in or what?” You return back to your apartment, assuming that they’d soon follow.

Yoongi looks at Jungkook. “Wait. You know Y/N?”

Jungkook looks at Yoongi. “Wait. You know Y/N?”

Yoongi squints his eyes. “She’s my roommate. She’s a mutual friend of––”

“––Seokjin,” Jungkook finishes. The two of them pause, a metaphorical light bulb glowing above their heads.

“Ah.”

“Ah.”

“I see. The demoness has roped you into some hare-brained scheme, hasn’t she?” Yoongi nods sagely, rubbing his beardless chin. “Can’t say I feel sorry for you since I have to live with the wench.”

Jungkook grimaces. “Man. She’s insane around you too?”

Yoongi shrugs, walking over to your shared apartment. “I’m dating Seokjin, remember? Everyday, I suffer. Everyday, I feel my arm.”

When Jungkook steps into your apartment, he can’t help but be a little surprised. Of course, he shouldn’t have expected to see a medieval torture chamber in the middle of a metropolitan city, but he wouldn’t put it past you to somehow make it happen. Instead, he finds a fairly cozy-looking home, with comfy couches and filled bookshelves, complete with a small balcony that had a few fresh herbs growing in little pots. It looks…

“Yoongi-hyung. You definitely decorated, didn’t you?” Jungkook snorts, fingering the little kitty-patterned throw blanket draped on your couch. It’s soft and expensive, and definitely something only Yoongi would buy. The elder doesn’t even bother looking embarrassed; he just throws Jungkook the middle finger as he walks towards the kitchen.

You come out once more from one of the connecting rooms at the other end of the apartment, presumably your bedroom. You motion for Jungkook to come in. “Yoongi, you’re gonna bake all day, right? Mind if you let Jungkook and I speak alone in my room?”

Yoongi waves his hand disinterestedly. “Whatever. If you guys are gonna be freaky in there, I’m gonna start playing clown music to drown you guys out, alright? And I mean the remix versions with the extra clown honks.”

You roll your eyes. “Yea, yea. We get it. Grandpa needs his special time alone too.”

Jungkook’s heart jumps when you don’t even bother correcting him. Does that mean you guys really were going to do something freaky? Hopefully, Yoongi has learned to differentiate screams of terror from screams of pleasure, though it’s hard to tell if he’d care otherwise.

He follows you into your room and immediately notices the perfectly made bed and the neatly organized desk. Your curtains are drawn close, but the sheerness of it allows the mid-afternoon sun to brighten the room regardless. Your bedroom smells faintly of vanilla and cinnamon, and he notices the small scented candle still smoking from when you’d put it out.

Nothing in the room indicates that he was inside the room of a psychopath, though maybe Namjoon or Taehyung would argue that anyone who makes their bed every day might be a little out of it. Jungkook continues to stand awkwardly by the door, unsure of what to do next except to stare.

You plop onto your bed, giving him an expectant look. “Well? Are you just gonna stand there by the door and have Yoongi see us measure your dick or what?” That gets Jungkook to move. He closes the door, pausing for a second before locking it for good measure. Then, he takes the short two steps that he needs to stand right in front of you.

You crane your neck, appraising him silently as he fidgets from the weirdness of it all. Your gaze trails down and Jungkook is not surprised when you stop to stare at his neon pink shorts. You snort, thumbing the edge of his shorts lightly. Jungkook shivers even though you’re barely touching him and he knows that you notice.

“Trying to get back at me for leaving you with blue balls yesterday?” you muse, letting go of the thin material. Jungkook wants to bring your hand back to his thigh, but he forces himself to keep still.

He looks down. “Not really? But I mean… Is it working?” He can’t help the hopeful lilt in his voice.

You laugh, patting him lightly on the thigh. “No worries, Jungkook. I did promise you a little something last night, right? I admit it was shitty of me to leave you like that, despite what you already might think of me. You probably think I’m just some insane bitch, right?”

Jungkook stares at you. “Do you want me to be honest or...?”

You roll your eyes, but you seem more amused than anything. “Save it. I know I’m weird. But, a promise is a promise…” You trail off, winking at him. “Besides, this works out for the both of us, right? I wanted to measure your dick before we meet up with Taeyong and Doyoung tomorrow, and I can help you blow your rocks right after. Seems like a deal?”

“Is it bad that I’m so ready to have you suck me off that I’m honest to God accepting your offer without any sense of dignity?”

You consider him for a moment. Then, “Nah. I know dudes who would do worse things for three grand and to have their dick sucked. I’d say you’re just doing you.” You place your hands back on his hips, thumbing around the garter of his shorts.

Jungkook groans, not even flinching when you rip his shorts and boxers off in one rough flourish. His soft dick dangles heavily between his thighs. “See, I’m not entirely comforted knowing that you agree with my moral dilemma.”

You clap your hands together, excitement glittering in your expression. “Who cares! Let’s get you all hard and ready, shall we?”

Jungkook squirms under your gaze, getting dick stage fright. “H-hey… This isn’t like porn… I can’t just get hard when I want to, you know? I need… stimulation or some shit.”

You nod, humming thoughtfully. “You’re right… And I remember you said something about taking a long time to get fully hard, right? That’s gonna be a problem indeed.” You lean forward, “So. Tell me, Jungkook. What are your kinks?”

If Jungkook was drinking water, he’s sure he’d be doing a spit take right now. Instead, he just chokes on his own saliva, coughing out his lungs at your sudden inquiry. “M-my kinks? What for?”

“To get you hard, duh.” You leave featherlight grazes around his thigh, leaving goosebumps in their wake. It stirs something inside Jungkook, but not enough to do anything yet. You tsk, your brow crumpling as you decide what to do next. “What if I…”

You dig your nails into the meat of his thighs and inadvertently pull him closer. He stumbles forward, his breath knocked out of him despite how little you’d done so far. “W-wait,” he wheezes, shock running down his spine. “I––”

You smirk at him, digging harder until you’re sure to leave white little crescents littered around his thigh. “Aha. I guessed you’d be into that. You liked it when I bit you yesterday, didn’t you?”

Jungkook can’t even answer. He’s trying to keep his breathing steady, squeezing his eyelids shut. He hears you shuffling in front of him, and he soon senses your body press closer to him, alerting him that you have stood up. You wrap your arms around his neck, bending his head down until he can feel your breath fan across his lips.

Are you going to kiss him? But the contact doesn’t come; instead, your hands snake up to his hair, massaging his scalp for a moment before tugging on his roots harshly. It pulls a whine from his lips, the response surprising even himself. “S-shit,” he grits his teeth, urging you to do it again. He opens his eyes slightly, sees you watching him with rapt attention.

You lick your lips, looking at him like a meal ready to be eaten. The heat in his stomach builds, but Jungkook doesn’t have it in him to be embarrassed anymore. He doesn’t really have any more room in his brain anymore other than his unabashedly horny thoughts.

“Pain slut, huh? Somehow, it suits you.” You sound breathy, as if you were the one being pleasured instead. It makes Jungkook’s cock twitch a little, coming to life in front of you as you continue to assault his nerves.

“Do you like pain everywhere?” Your hands leave his head, coming down to the edge of his shirt. It’s a silent request, and Jungkook allows you to lift up his sweater, leaving him completely bare before you. You throw it somewhere to your right, eyes raking him up and down. Something about you still being fully clothed makes Jungkook’s inside light on fire, and it rushes blood down south before he can even understand why.

You chuckle, looking at his hardened nipples with interest. “Pierced? What a naughty boy you are.” You flick him there experimentally, and when Jungkook’s breath hitches, that gives you a go sign to do more. You fiddle around with the rosy bud some more, circling it with the pads of your fingers until Jungkook was a whining mess before you. “Sensitive… What a prize you are, Jungkook.”

Jungkook keens at the praise, even though he knows you didn’t really mean it in a good way. He finds himself wanting to please you: to get himself hard for you, to make you want him like how he wants you. He honestly can’t tell if you’re enjoying this as much as him, other than the way you’re watching him closely like a hawk.

He’s nearly half-hard, his cock jutting against your stomach. You peer down, figuring out your next move as he holds his breath, afraid he might do something wrong. Your fingers move once more, tracing shapes across his stomach and causing the muscles there to contract. He anticipates your next movements, his dick steadily throbbing.

“I suppose the easiest way to get you hard is to touch you here, right?” you murmur lowly. You grip him by the hips all of a sudden, your thumbs placed firmly into his Adonis’ belt. You inch closer and closer to where he wants you the most, and you watch him amusedly as he clamps down on his bottom lip, unwilling to sound desperate so early in the game.

(Was it early though? He’s been thinking about this exact scenario since last night, even plaguing his dreams. Still, it wouldn’t look cool if he just… busted a nut just from having his dick out. Even he knew that was kinda sad.)

Despite his best efforts, perhaps the desperation is apparent on his face because you eventually do take pity on him. You wrap your fingers around his length, not moving just yet. You smile secretly to yourself when you hear Jungkook exhale and swallow audibly, but you’re waiting for something. You look up at him, batting your eyelashes innocently as if you didn’t have his dick in your hands.

“What do good boys say when they want something?” You’re fishing, but your teasing tone breaks Jungkook down enough to release a ragged moan. He places his hands on your shoulder, using you for support as you slowly inch your hand down to the base of his cock.

He can’t keep the whine out of his voice when he says, “P...Please. Move?”

Your grin is wicked. “Of course, baby.”

Yeah, if you keep this up, Jungkook is going to come embarrassingly fast and he doesn’t think you’ll be quite pleased with that.

There is pre-cum leaking at the tip of his cock, dangerously close to pooling over and dripping all over your carpet. You are quick to swipe it off with your thumb, dragging it down his shaft for an easier slide. Jungkook’s abs tense, his teeth clamping on his bottom lip so aggressively that he almost splits it open. His grip on your shoulders tighten, but you don’t mind. You keep stroking him languidly, not going fast enough for Jungkook’s liking, but the concentration on your face is enough to make Jungkook release a stilted moan. It doesn’t take long until the wet squelch of your hand jerking him fills the room, coupled with the sound of Jungkook’s labored breathing.

“You’re really wet,” you chuckle, watching with fascination as your words urge another drop of pre-cum to collect at his tip. “Are you always like this?”

“N-not… Really?” It takes a while for Jungkook’s brain to connect, caught between wanting to keep his eyes shut and wanting to stare at your cute hands trying to wrap around his dick. Your fingers can’t even circle the girth of his cock, the realization almost making Jungkook come there and then.

He’d never been one to be overly confident about his penis size, to be honest. He doesn’t really go around proclaiming it to the world, and his meager body count doesn’t help the fact that most people are unaware of the extent of his package. He isn’t itching to tell people either, but he’s starting to see why people would be envious of having a large dick. The sight of you struggling to pump his cock really makes for a pretty picture.

“Ugh, my arm is getting tired,” you complain after a while, getting frustrated when you realize that Jungkook is almost fully hard, but not quite. “Jeez. Your dick is so huge that it really takes a minute for the fuel tank to fill up, huh?”

“I-I’m sorry?” Jungkook wheezes, nearly crying out when you flick your wrist in just the right manner. Your hand pauses by the head of his dick, squeezing tightly enough not to be painful, much to his disappointment. Jungkook is still too shy to ask for more.

You let go of him all of a sudden, causing a guttural whine to escape Jungkook’s lips. Ignoring him, you nudge him back a few steps, Jungkook complying wordlessly. He’s still confused until you reach over to your bed, grabbing one of your pillows before dropping to your knees. Jungkook’s jaw drops, spluttering incomprehensibly as you cushion your knees with the pillow.

You look up, giggling amusedly. “Reminds you of last night, huh? Not gonna lie, I’ve been itching to have your cock in my mouth, though I’m not even sure if any of it can fit. That’s not gonna stop me from trying.”

Oh God. Oh Geez. Jungkook is going to die, isn’t he? He vaguely remembers his dream from the night before, how your pretty pink lips had stretched over his dick, barely going past his head. He whines pathetically, another string of pre-cum finally dripping down and landing on your thighs.

You hold him by his hips, preventing him from moving as your hot breath fans across his wet head. You lick your lips, taking one glance up at him before giving his tip a quick peck. It’s nothing to write home about, but the way Jungkook’s breath catches is enough to encourage you to do more. You suckle his head a little, suctioning your lips and moaning slightly at the bitter tang. Your eyes flutter shut, tongue swirling nondescript patterns as you greedily engrave his taste into your mind.

The image of you enjoying yourself is enough to get Jungkook fully hard. He feels like he’s on fire, from his flushed cheeks all the way to his groin. He doesn’t know where to put his hands, unsure if you’d allow him to pull on your hair.

You must have noticed his plight, because one of your hands leaves his hips to grasp his own, bringing it to your hair. You pop off his dick for a second, lips already redder than before. Jungkook wishes he could kiss you, but he’s still so unsure. “You can pull my hair, but if you push me down further than I’m willing to go, I’m stopping immediately, okay?” Your voice is authoritative and your gaze is steely, but it only prompts Jungkook to moan in reply.

He nods, nearly getting whiplash from how quickly his head bobs. You smirk, appeased by his obedience. You return to your ministrations, rewarding him by going further down and bobbing your head at a snail’s pace.

Jungkook’s sanity is barely hanging onto a thread. He wants to thrust into your wet mouth, never having felt this sort of pleasure in his life. He’s beginning to understand why Jimin is such a slut, and he wonders why on earth he’s been denying himself things like this. His eyes are half-lidded, but he’s determined to watch you as your masterful tongue brings him to the edge of hysteria.

When Jungkook doesn’t think your mouth can go further down, you surprise him once again. You go lower, and Jungkook feels your throat swallow around him until he nearly screams. Drool pools in the inside of his mouth, as if Jungkook’s body doesn’t know what to do with the pleasure. His legs nearly give out, but your hands keep him mounted.

His toes are curling, thighs trembling. “Fuck,” he whines, unable to stop himself when he thrusts a little into your mouth. “Shit, I didn’t mean to–”

You glance up at him. Your eyes are tearing up, but otherwise you look unperturbed. You flatten your tongue on the underside of his dick, tracing the vein there as you slowly come up for air. You swallow the mix of saliva and pre-cum in your mouth, licking your lips like you’ve just had a 5-star meal. You look absolutely debauched, though Jungkook knows he’s probably not doing much better.

“No gag reflex. It’s fine,” you shrug, as if you’d just told him about the weather. Your voice sounds hoarse, roughened by the assault of his dick on your throat. “Are you close?”

Jungkook doesn’t want to admit it, but– “Yes,” he says. He’s breathing like he’s just run a marathon, sweat dripping down his neck. You observe it drip down his body, as it curves down his neck and to his chest.

“You aren’t coming until I say so, got it?” You warn. He nods, cock twitching in desperation for your mouth to continue what it was doing.

But instead, you reach back to your bed, and Jungkook finally notices the tape measure that you’d left there. Oh right. Jungkook is brought back to reality, suddenly remembering why he’d gone here in the first place.

“This will only take a second, baby,” you whisper lowly, and Jungkook’s conscience is shot out of his head once more. Call him baby one more time, and Jungkook is sure to bust his load. He’s worried he might gain a Pavlovian response to the word; getting hard every time someone so much as utters “baby” for whatever reason.

You unravel the measuring tape, placing the end of it near the base of his member. You drag it over his length, whistling in awe as the number keeps growing and growing. “Shit, you really are huge,” you gasp in amazement, peering closely at the measurement to make sure you aren’t reading it wrong. “Nearly nine inches. Are you insane?”

Jungkook chuckles in embarrassment, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s… nothing?”

You snort, shaking your head at the pure audacity of this boy in front of you. “No need to humblebrag, baby. Unless you want me to degrade you, then stop being coy with me.”

At the word “degrade,” Jungkook’s erection twitches with interest. Of course, you notice. “Oh? You want me to degrade you?”

Jungkook’s face heats up, forever astonished by your brazenness. “N-no! That’s not what I–”

“You want me to call your cock pathetic, huh? Is that what you want?”

Jungkook whines, shifting from foot to foot as he tries to avoid your lustful gaze. “I…”

“Want me to call you names, huh? Took your cock so long to get hard, struggled so much to get it up. What a useless dick that you have…” you trail off, covering your mouth behind your hand to hide your grin.

Jungkook feels like he’s about to fall over. The pressure in between his legs is reaching his breaking point, and Jungkook really doesn’t want to embarrass himself by coming untouched. He has a sinking suspicion you’d enjoy it if he did, however.

Your hand slides back to his crotch, cupping his erection once more. You run your palm along him once, enjoying the way his breath hitches. He’s undeniably close and it fills you with pride knowing that you did this to him. “You’re close.” You say it like a fact.

Jungkook squirms. “Please… Faster… I’m so close, Y/N. Just a lil bit more, please…”

“I love it when you beg,” you laugh, sounding a little mean. “But since you’ve been nice all this time, I’ll let you.”

Your hands speed up, twisting and pulling him in ways that Jungkook isn’t sure are possible. He’s full-on panting like a fucking dog right now, humping shallowly into your hand like he’s lost his mind. He’s so unbelievably close, the heat in his stomach climbing higher and higher until––

“SHIT! Y/N!”

You stop, confused. That shout didn’t sound like Jungkook. You turn to your closed door, ears straining for the sound again. “Yoongi?” you call out. “Did you say something?”

Muffled footsteps come rushing closer. Your doorknob jiggles, but Jungkook had thankfully locked it when he’d come into the room earlier. Yoongi huffs from behind the door, banging loudly on the frame. “Y/N! Help! I fucking dropped the cheesecake!”

“He dropped the cheesecake,” you repeat dully to yourself. You share a look with Jungkook. The banging doesn’t stop.

“Y/N PLEASEEE THE KITCHEN IS A MESS!” Yoongi screams, uncaring of whatever he was interrupting. “YOU OWE ME! I PAID FOR YOUR RENT LAST MONTH SO YOU GOTTA HELP!”

“I hate that bastard,” you sigh, defeated. You let go of Jungkook reluctantly, giving him an apologetic look. Jungkook wants to cry. “I’m… really sorry for leaving you again like this. I…” you hesitate, looking at the door then back to him. “I do kind of owe him, so…”

Jungkook exhales shakily, bending down to the floor to pick his shirt up. He dresses quietly, cheeks burning. Why must you keep torturing him like this? He thinks his balls might explode at this point. “It’s no problem… I’ll just take care of myself at home.”

You peer at him, feeling incredibly guilty. “I have a connecting bathroom. You could use it if you want?”

“That’d be great, thanks.” Jungkook says before hurriedly rushing out of there. He refuses to look at you as he slams the bathroom door shut, breathing slowly through his nostrils in an attempt to calm himself. He waits as he listens for you to leave before his hands scramble back onto his dick, loudly crying out as he tugs himself to completion.

His legs give out from under him as he slides down to the floor, spurts of hot cum flying past his fist. Wave after wave of pleasure tingles down his spine as he slides up and down his cock. After his dick shoots its last droplet of cum, Jungkook slams his head against your bathroom wall. He’s exhausted.

He closes his eyes, thinks about how his life has led him up to this moment. Jizzing in some near stranger’s home while one of his best friends cleans up his fallen cheesecake.

“Jesus fucking Christ I hate it here,” he says. He gets up unsteadily, washing his hands of his mess.

x x x x x

Fully dressed and unsatisfyingly sated, Jungkook exits your bathroom with a flush down his neck. He keeps his eyes averted from you, but not before glaring heatedly at Yoongi as he turns to leave. Yoongi cocks his head to the side, annoyingly unaware of what he had done.

“You okay, dude? You look like a bull ready to pummel me,” Yoongi snickers, bemused by Jungkook’s flared nostrils. “Seriously. You okay?”

You slap Yoongi on the thigh, huffing angrily as you stay squatted on the floor, your other hand busy wiping off the cheesecake from the floor with a paper towel. “Shut up. You’ve done enough shitheadery today.”

Yoongi looks at the mounted clock on your fridge. “It’s only 7PM. My shitheadery doesn’t clock out until 10PM today.”

Rolling his eyes, Jungkook waves his goodbye. “Well. I guess I’ll see you guys,” he murmurs, inching closer to the door. He walks out in silence, no longer bothering to hide his pouting. He takes the elevator down, ruminating on his existence. When he reaches the ground floor, his phone immediately dings with a notification.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ hey. please don’t hate me. i’m really sorry. raincheck?

Jungkook snorts, stopping in his tracks. It’s always just rainchecks with you. He types up a quick response.

from: jjk it’s not your fault. it’s fine.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ you sure? you got off well by yourself at least, right?

from: jjk yeah. don’t worry about it.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ if you’re down… i could help you through the phone? when you get home? :( i just feel really bad. like, genuinely. yoongi is an asshole.

The offer sounds interesting, but sadly, Jungkook is out of juice for the day. He’s got a lot of stamina for many things, but it turns out he’s out of practice when it comes to his own dick.

from: jjk nah it’s fine. thanks though.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ i hope you’re still down for the contest? doyoung texted me while we were busy a while ago and said that they were free tomorrow after 12?

from: jjk no worries. i’ll be there.

from: y/n l/n ❣️ <3 ty you’re the best!! <3

He groans, slapping himself in the face. God, he is so fucking whipped.

x x x x x

The next day, Jungkook wakes up with a burning headache. He feels hungover even though he didn’t drink at all the night before, and Jungkook wonders if his brain had somehow deflated overnight with how hollow he feels. He grabs his phone from his bed stand, sees a new text from you reminding him of what he’d promised.

You had sent him an address to another apartment complex just a few bus stops away from where he lives and he assumes this must be either Doyoung’s or Taeyong’s place. He shuts his eyes for another few moments, trying his best to remember how to live.

It’s already nearing noon, so he needs to get going if he doesn’t want to be late. He shudders to think what you might do if he ghosts you. Despite how guilty you were yesterday for leaving him mid-nut, he doesn’t think that debt will cover him if he chooses not to show up to the dick-measuring contest.

On the bus, he fidgets in his seat, picking at the rips in his jeans and doing anything to keep his mind busy. He keeps thinking that someone knows what he’s up to, paranoia eating him from the inside out as he darts his eyes left and right, hoping no one can actually read minds. The bus is relatively empty, with only him and an elderly couple sitting near the front. They seem none the wiser, though Jungkook fears what they would think if they knew what he was up to.

He almost wishes he was wearing Seokjin’s thot shorts, as the skimpy excuse of clothing had somehow given him some sort of confidence the day before. Gone is that false sense of (misplaced) bravado; instead, Jungkook is filled with anxiety at the prospect of showing a couple of strangers his dick.

(A fairly human response, but that doesn’t help Jungkook’s current case.)

He arrives at the apartment complex in record time, and he sees you standing by the entrance. You look well-rested, your hands fiddling with your phone. Jungkook has only ever seen you when you were wearing that revealing dress from the club and your pajamas from your home, so he’s kind of shocked to see you look cute in your simple white dress and jean jacket. Not that you didn’t look good those other times, but seeing you look like a normal university student is astonishing, for lack of better word.

You almost look like a regular girl just waiting for her date to pick her up.

“Hey!” You greet him cheerily when you see him approach, waving at him. He waves back, the apples of his cheeks dusted pink from his previous thoughts. She’s not your date, you weirdo. Wait, she’s the weirdo. Get it together man! This shit is fucked up.

“This is their place, I assume?” Jungkook asks, looking at the building. It appears almost identical to your own apartment complex, minus the mini water fountain at the front. Ah, the wonders of living in a concrete jungle.

“Yep,” you nod. You start walking towards the entrance, with Jungkook following closely. “You ready? God, I can’t wait to see Doyoung’s stupid face. He’s gonna be so pissed!”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Jungkook mutters, vibrating with nerves.

You both make your way to the apartment, with you humming quietly while he sweats profusely beside you. At least one of you is having fun, he thinks grimly to himself. You reach apartment 322, knocking three times before a boy with neat black hair opens the door.

“Y/N! Good to see you,” the boy says, reaching for a hug. You hug him back enthusiastically, ignoring Jungkook’s bemused stares. If this boy is either Doyoung or Taeyong, aren’t you supposed to… hate both of their guts? Or at least, not be friends? What even is going on?

When you step back, you point at Jungkook offhandedly. “Oh yeah, this is Jungkook. The guy I’m dating.”

Jungkook nearly chokes on his own spit, but luckily the boy doesn’t notice. Right… You guys are supposed to be dating. It’s not real, though. Get a grip! “Hi, I’m Jungkook,” he wheezes, shaking the other guy’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you…”

“I’m Doyoung,” he introduces himself, a small smile on his lips. “Nice to meet you too. I’ve heard… a lot about you, so to speak.”

Jungkook squeaks, earning a chuckle from Doyoung. “No need to be embarrassed. I think we’re way past that point now. Sorry for roping you into this, by the way. But when Y/N wants to fight, well… Let’s just say I’m not going to be the first one who backs down.”

“Says the dude who couldn’t even beat me at arm wrestling,” you snort, pushing past Doyoung and walking into his home. Doyoung rolls his eyes, gesturing for Jungkook to come in.

“Props to you for dating her, by the way. I’ve been friends with that demon since elementary school, so I know what she’s like. You must be a guy with strong willpower,” Doyoung says.

“I’m… Sorry for saying this, but I’m kind of confused? I didn’t know you guys were friends,” Jungkook says, examining Doyoung’s apartment. It’s a lot bigger than yours, though he does recall you saying that Doyoung was filthy rich. It’s a lot more modern looking for sure, as Jungkook can see that Doyoung has two industrial-sized refrigerators in his kitchen. What kind of university student needs two industrial-sized refrigerators?

“Yeah, we are. She actually only dated Taeyong because she knew we both liked each other but I was too stubborn to make a move, so she did the only thing she knew how to do: be an asshole,” he explains simply. Jungkook nods, needing no further clarification.

“Jungkook! Come with me,” you pop out from one of the doorways deeper in the apartment, beckoning him closer. You point at Doyoung, “And you. Get Taeyong ready. I’m gonna need a few minutes to get Jungkook in tip-top shape!”

Doyoung chuckles, shoving Jungkook towards you. “Well, that’s my cue. I’ll introduce you to Taeyong later, I guess. He’s in my bedroom, so we’ll come out in about 20 minutes? That should be enough time, right?”

Yeah. Right. Jungkook walks numbly towards you, arms rigged by his sides as you pull him into Doyoung’s spare bathroom. You lock the door close, whirling around to face him with your hands on your hips. You’ve rolled your sleeves up, appearing like a demented surgeon preparing to dissect him. “Well! Strip!”

Jungkook is clumsy when he unbuttons his jeans, his entire body feeling like it’s being weighed down by pounds of lead. He shucks them off, leaving him in his boxers (thankfully, with no holes in them. He made sure to double-check before he left this morning.) You appraise him silently, thinking of what to do next.

Before Jungkook can say anything, your hands are already on his chest, pointer fingers placed near his nipples. His piercings are visible through his thin shirt, much to your appreciation. You circle them lazily, much like how you did yesterday.

Jungkook can’t relax long enough to enjoy it, however. His shoulders are tense, fists clenched behind his back. He’s trying to stop thinking about what’s going to happen, trying to enjoy your touch. He grits his teeth, swallowing thickly.

“I… I can’t do this, Y/N.” he mumbles. “I don’t think I can get hard. I’m too nervous.”

You pause in your movements. “You’re nervous?” you purr, voice lowering. Jungkook stops fidgeting to stare at you, sensing the shift in your demeanor. “How can I alleviate that, hmm?”

“What?”

You pinch his nipples, hard. He gasps, whimpering right after from the jolt of pain. “I think I know how to calm you down,” you murmur, staring him down like he’s nothing more than a delicious snack.

“You want me to hurt you, huh? Is that it? Answer me, slut.” You say those words, but there’s a small bit of hesitation in your expression, like you’re worried if he truly likes it. When he nods enthusiastically, urging you to go on, you smile softly at him. His heart hammers in his chest, a small case of butterflies beginning to erupt there. You look kinda cute, even if you have his nipples in a twist.

“If it’s too much, just say ‘dumbo’ and I’ll stop, okay?” Jungkook nods once more, eager to get going.

You smirk, letting go of his nipples and gripping his hips instead. Your thumbs stay innocently above his boxers. “Do you like it when I call you names too, huh? You like being pinched and prodded?”

Jungkook whines, already turning needy. The anxiety from a while ago slowly drains away, leaving only lust to cloud his mind. “N-no, I just…”

“No?” You laugh, your thumbs catching on the garter of his boxers and pulling them down until the tip of his cock peeks out, already in the midst of getting hard. “Then what’s this?”

“Nggh…” Jungkook can’t say anything, can only stare helplessly at you.

“Pathetic. You have a nine-inch cock but it’s good for nothing except earning me a bit of money. Shame, isn’t it? Would be nice if you knew how to use it, then maybe I’d let you fuck me,” you say, edging closer to him until your lips find his exposed collarbones. You suck harshly, giddy when color immediately blooms at the spot. You thread your fingers into his dark, fluffy hair – and tug.

It’s too much all at once – Jungkook isn’t ready for any of it at all. He’s panting, whining, drooling a little. He shimmies his hips a little, his boxers sliding down his thighs and onto the marble floor. His cock springs free, already dripping pre-cum but still only half-hard.

“Ah, there it is. Your big useless cock. My, my… Already dirtying Doyoungie’s floor with your slick, huh? You gonna make the floor wet, baby?”

Jungkook garbles something; did he say something? Who knows. All he knows right now is that 1) you’re making him lose his marbles and 2) he’s embarrassingly close. He’s never gotten this hard so fast in his entire life, and he might be suffering from blood loss or something. His head feels light, like he’s floating. His entire body is thrumming, senses filled with nothing but you.

You gently lead him closer to the bathtub where you sit, still paying no attention to his weeping arousal. Your mouth is dangerously close to it though, but you make no move to hold him in your mouth. Instead, you hike your skirt up until it reaches your waist, revealing your white panties. Jungkook zeroes in on the darkening patch, a shuddering breath leaving his lungs. He’s screwed.

“Show me how you pleasured yourself yesterday, when you were in my bathroom,” you say, caressing the front of your panties. You grind against your palm, eyelashes fluttering as your jaw drops into an ‘o’. You exhale through your nose, laughing breathily. “If you do well, then maybe I’ll show you what I did when you left, hmm?”

Jungkook has never moved faster in his life than he did then. He takes his erection into his hands, sighing with relief when he begins to pump. He moves slower than he usually would, unwilling to finish so soon after getting this far. He’s already wound up from your teasing (and if you count the past few days, then let’s say he’s been edged long enough.)

You study him with sharp eyes, focusing on the movement of his hands. “That’s it. It must be easy jerking off with how wet you are, huh?”

“Y-yeah.” Jungkook speeds up, flicking his wrist and focusing on the sensitive tip of his cock. His attention is pulled when he sees you shift from the corner of his eye. His grip stutters when you push your panties to the side, giving him a full view of your glistening core. He licks his lips, aching to put his mouth there but only if you’d allow him.

“Why’d you stop?” You stretch your leg out, using your foot to urge his wrist to keep moving. “Come on. I want to see you.”

You circle your clit leisurely before dipping your fingers into your pussy two fingers at a time, wet enough for the slide to be smooth. Jungkook quickens his pace, wanting to match your speed. He watches, mesmerized, at the sight of your fingers pushing in and out.

The obscene sounds coming from the both of you is loud enough to mask Jungkook’s desperate mewls. He’s going faster now, wanting nothing more than to cum all over you and your pussy. You’d look good in his cum, the pearly droplets would look good in contrast with your perfect skin.

Your thighs are shaking, your own breathing shallow as you quickly approach your end. You’re moaning in tandem with him, your arousal coating your fingers generously as it begins to run down the back of your hand. You’re scissoring yourself, but it’s barely enough when you compare it to Jungkook’s cock. No, nothing would be enough to prepare you to take him. He’d ruin you, and the thought of him breaking you is enough to help you tip over the edge.

“Fuuuuuuck,” you moan, eyes screwing shut as you are wrought with the strongest orgasm of your life. More wetness drips out of you as you rub frantically at your clit, riding your high. You look at Jungkook through your eyelashes, lips parted. “Fuck,” you repeat.

Jungkook can’t hold back anymore. He knows he shouldn’t cum but the pleasure is skyrocketing at an unparalleled speed. His balls tighten, the heat in his abdomen building until he can’t hold back even if he tried. He shudders once, twice, before jets of his cum spills from over his fist, some of the droplets making their way onto your thighs. He moans at the sight, doesn’t try to change his trajectory as his mind is completely hazed with lust. “Shit, I’m–” Jungkook grinds one last time into his hand, before promptly slumping down onto the floor.

“Jesus, that was a lot of cum,” he hears you say, but he can’t bring himself to look at you. He’s ashamed, having cummed without your permission. He can feel his dick softening underneath him, and he dimly remembers that hadn’t been the plan at all. He was supposed to get hard, have his dick measured, and then finish if he was allowed. And now, he ruined everything because he couldn’t hold himself back.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” he mutters quietly, hiding behind his cum-stained hands. He cringes when the mess enters his eyes, wiping his palm somewhere on his leg. “Fuck. I messed everything up. You were just… It was too much… You…”

“Should’ve used your safety word, Jungkook.”

“It wasn’t because it was bad,” Jungkook’s cheeks flush, “It was… too good.”

You kneel beside him, cradling his chin and forcing him to look at you. He had been afraid to see disappointment in your eyes, so he’s absolutely surprised to see you look… amused. You’re even giggling a little.

“Sorry. I went a bit overboard. Even I get horny sometimes,” you shrug, wiping a bit of cum away from his forehead. Your own fingers are slick with your own cum, so really, you were just making a bigger mess of his face. Jungkook can’t say he’s opposed to a little mess. “You just looked so good that I couldn’t help myself.”

“You… enjoyed yourself, too? I’m not insane for thinking there’s something between us?”

“Honestly, you’re at least a little bit insane,” you laugh at his dumbfounded expression. “What? I’m cuckoo, and you know it. The fact that you got turned on by me even after all I’d done to you… Really puts you into perspective, huh?”

Jungkook grumbles, but he’s no longer frowning. “I guess. My friends tell me I have a type, and I guess you fit the bill.”

You laugh wholeheartedly at that, and it brings a smile to Jungkook’s face. He likes it when you laugh, he decides. “Same here. I guess you’re my type, too.”

You peer down at his flaccid dick. “Too bad about your meat flute, though. Unless you can get it back up in the next 2 minutes, then I don’t think you’re getting that three grand.”

“Please don’t call my dick that,” Jungkook says before shrugging his shoulders. “And it’s no worries. I had the biggest nut of my life and that’s good enough to me. Plus, you said you’d give me one thousand dollars if I agreed to help you out, so you better not back out on that.”

You snigger, patting him gently on the shoulder. “Yeah, whatever. But not before we get out of here and you fuck my brains out, got it? You need to work for it, baby.”

Is it bad that his cock was already beginning to stir once more? Unprecedented, as it usually took Jungkook ages to get back up. Maybe you really were the one for him.

“Deal. Let’s get out of here?”

When the two of you finish getting cleaned up and leave the bathroom with no evidence that you had even been there, Doyoung doesn’t even bat an eye as you walk past him, eager to get out of the door. Taeyong is lounging on the couch with his dick… mysteriously still in his pants, as if he had no intention of taking them off in the first place.

“Sorry, we need to leave. There’s an emergency we have to attend to. See you, Doyoungie!” You tug Jungkook along, who waves his own hasty goodbye.

The door clicks shut, leaving the couple alone once more. Taeyong grins up at Doyoung, “You really are amazing, Doyoung. How’d you know she’d end up with him?”

Doyoung flicks open his phone, showing Taeyong his text messages with none other than Kim Seokjin himself. “All according to keikaku, my love. Kim Seokjin always wins.”

[solalunar-eclipse]

A Gift To Remember

Summary: Shadow receives a gift for his birthday that causes a series of very interesting (and often cute) events.

Word count: about 7500 words

Author’s Note: I didn’t realize today was Shadow’s birthday! At the moment I’m more than a little confused because the release dates for SA2 say everything from the 18th to the 23rd, but this seems to be the one, so here this is!

Also, to that one anon whose question about this fic I never quite managed to answer- sorry about that and I do hope you’re still here to read this!

...

The main room of Team Dark’s home was, on a normal day, at least somewhat clean- which was in and of itself surprising, considering the fact that three teenagers lived there. (It was, of course, slightly less surprising when it was noted that one of these teenagers was a giant robot, one was already a businesswoman, and one had grown up in an incredibly clean environment.)

At the moment, however, said room was currently rather less clean, instead covered in various colorful signs, streamers, balloons, and other such decorations. After all, today was a very special day.

When Shadow and Rouge had discovered they shared a birthday (or creation day for Shadow, technically), they both became infinitely more determined to celebrate it for the other’s sake. This had actually, interestingly enough, also ended up making them enjoy their own festivities more than they had in quite some time.

Omega, meanwhile, had officially decided that this was his favorite day of the year.

Over the past few days, Rouge had already received a few presents from various people she knew in the line of clothes, makeup, or jewelry- but as much as she loved gems, her favorites so far were definitely the ones Omega and Shadow had gotten for her: a laser cutter that could slice through anything and a pair of (stylish) infrared goggles, respectively.

Shadow had just opened his present from Omega, which happened to be a sword that looked very cool...but was also longer than his actual body. This wasn’t actually as big of a problem for him as might be expected, as he’d gotten used to handling weapons several times his size during the alien invasion a little while back. 

He had, however, been told rather quickly by Rouge to put it away ‘before you slice the wall in half, this place does cost money, you know!’.

Next, Rouge placed her present in his hands, but at first all Shadow could do was just stare at it. This was likely because the gift wasn’t actually wrapped, but instead consisted of a box made of wood slats and filled, oddly enough, with paper shavings. There were quite a few ribbons on it, though, in an attempt to make up for the lack of other decorations.

“I couldn’t wrap it, or else the present wouldn’t have worked.” she explained, sitting back down to watch him open it.

After prying off the top and shifting aside some of the paper pieces, the hedgehog froze.

Inside, there sat a single white chao egg.

Carefully lifting the egg out of the box, Shadow held it gingerly, as though he were afraid it might try to bite him if he wasn’t gentle enough.

“Rouge…” he began nervously. “Don’t get me wrong, I really appreciate this, but...are you sure I’m the best person to be taking care of a chao?”

“Of course, hon!” she said. “You’ve taken care of them before, haven’t you?”

“Yes, but…” Shadow protested, “...are you sure I’ll be able to do as well at home? The garden is their natural habitat…”

Omega folded his arms. “YOU ARE THE ULTIMATE LIFEFORM. OF COURSE YOU CAN RAISE A CHAO.”

“That’s right!” Rouge added. “The chao are always happy when you take care of them- this time isn’t going to be any different.”

“…I suppose so.” Shadow conceded, taking a deep breath. He began to rock the egg slowly from side to side. “Here we go-”

A crack appeared across the pristine white surface. The split spread rapidly while Shadow sat and watched, making sure not to move the egg about much. Chao had to hatch their eggs on their own- it was the way they first began to strengthen themselves. 

Rouge laughed. “See? You know exactly what you’re doing!”

Shadow studiously ignored her and continued to focus on the egg. Then, suddenly, a chirp came from inside and the whole top half came flying off.

The hybrid looked at his newborn chao...and his heart (though he’d never admit it) immediately melted. Soft, big eyes gazed up at him, an overjoyed smile on the creature’s face. It cooed happily upon seeing him give a small smile back, and he reached out and began to gently pat its head.

The chao broke into an even wider smile as its eyes closed blissfully, the little sphere above its head popping into a heart. Shadow continued to pet it, offering gentle words of praise, and might have continued like that for the next ten minutes had a camera noise from Omega not made him look up in alarm.

“ADDING IMAGE TO FILE: SHADOW BEING SOFT.” he declared, while Rouge looked on with a giant grin.

“You will do nothing of the sort-” Shadow growled, jumping to his feet, before a soft whimper from his chao stopped him. Its eyes were watery, wide and distressed, and the hybrid immediately scooped it up in his arms, holding it close. It relaxed quickly, snuggling into his chest fluff, and he shot Omega one last semi-serious glower before turning his attention back to the newborn.

Omega promptly took another picture.

…

Later that day, at the party that all of their friends had thrown for them, the chao and Shadow were nearly inseparable. It tended to rest in his lap when he was sitting or rode in between his ears whenever he stood up to get something. Eventually, though, the excitement of a new environment overwhelmed its initial nervousness, which unfortunately led to Shadow returning from the dining room with his hands full of plates of food to discover his chao crawling along the precarious edge of a bookshelf.

Suddenly, the chao’s footing slipped, and Shadow froze, unable to move or do anything- but then Sonic of all people noticed and was already there, leaping up and catching the chao before resting it snugly in his arms. “Looks like someone’s already progressed to the giving-their-owner-a-heart-attack stage, hm?” he asked, smirking at the little creature.

“Thank you.” Shadow said as his chao was returned to him, trying very hard to ignore the way his hands and Sonic’s brushed in the process.

(He’d been nursing a bit of a crush on the hero for a while now, but had decided to ignore it until it wore off. Sonic had admirers from all across the globe vying for his attention- it was absurd to think that anything could happen between them.)

…

Over the coming weeks, all three members of Team Dark made sure to rework their schedules so that someone was always home to watch over the chao- no more climbing on bookcases for the little one now. Shadow did most of the caretaking, feeding, training, cleaning, and providing Chaos Drives (mostly green) to the chao. Rouge did, however, occasionally claim she could ‘handle the extra work’ to give him some spare time and Omega even took it upon himself to watch it every so often.

Sometimes, Shadow and his chao would even cook together in the kitchen (a hobby he’d discovered he enjoyed after finding out that Rouge tended to eat takeout all the time- “You can’t live off that day in and day out- you’re not me, Rouge!”). The sight of a tiny pale blue creature determinedly lifting a bag of flour and flying it across the room was awfully cute- especially after Shadow bought it a tiny apron in what he unconvincingly claimed was an accidental purchase. 

Shadow never made accidental purchases.

As much as the hybrid took care of it, though, the chao also seemed to be helping him. He smiled more, glowered less, and generally seemed more tolerant of mistakes than he had been in the past. Nowadays, errors that would once have caused him to go off on a rant or huff about were now met with a calmer ‘it’s okay’ or an offer for help fixing it.

He often laid a hand on it in his sleep or curled around it protectively, and could easily be seen patting its head, carrying it around, or even- when he thought he was alone- nuzzling it gently. The amount of time and care he put into making sure that his chao was happy would have been astonishing to anyone who hadn’t already seen how much he cared about his friends.

It was no surprise then that, before long, Rouge and Omega woke up one morning to find the chao inside a cocoon (and also a very stressed-out Shadow).

The hedgehog promptly called in sick for the entire week- an incredible occurrence for him. He’d originally sworn that since he couldn’t get ill, he’d give his sick days to others when they needed it, but now that was all out the window. He wanted nothing more than to stay home and essentially sit and stare at the cocoon until it hatched.

While the two other members of Team Dark managed to convince him to eat, sleep, and do chores on regular intervals, whenever Shadow had a spare moment he’d stay in his room, watching and waiting. Their friends got so worried that Rouge and Omega had used everything in their power to coax him out of the house twice over those five days, but he refused to do any more. Even then his outings had to come with the promise that they’d both stay home, check it every five minutes, and call him the absolute moment something happened.

On the sixth day of waiting, the cocoon began to hatch while Shadow was attempting to discreetly read out loud to the chao from one of his favorite books. The moment he saw the split, he dropped the novel, jumped up, and shouted louder than he had in months- “Rouge! Omega! It’s HAPPENING!”

He hovered so closely around the cocoon that Omega had to physically pull him back as Rouge reminded him to give the chao more space. Within moments, the split had widened enough for a single black paw to poke out, feeling around carefully for some sort of purchase to pull itself the rest of the way outside. Soon enough, it had succeeded, earning- impressively enough- widened eyes from Omega and a gasp from both Shadow and Rouge.

Frowning light blue eyes were set in an equally grumpy (albeit adorable) face, with two little black ears and three tiny quills on the chao’s head. The ears and quills both had red stripes, as did the arms, legs, and even its tail. A red crescent shape sat on its chest, and two tiny purple bat wings flapped slowly behind it.

In short, it looked a lot like a tiny Shadow.

The hedgehog in question reached out carefully and began to pet his chao, offering some quiet words of praise, but before long it flew up and settled in its favorite spot in between his ears. When Shadow turned around to face his friends, they were met with the sight of a little glowering creature settled on top of his head…which really did look far too similar to the hybrid himself when he was irritated. 

Rouge covered a smile with both of her hands. “Shadow...hon…”

He frowned at her, only serving to make the resemblance more obvious. “What?”

“It looks exactly like you!”

“Not really- it has blue eyes and...bat wings…” He looked up at her suddenly. “Rouge...how much time have you been spending with Spark again?”

“Oh, just a little- wait, Spark?” she said quickly, redirecting his attention.

Shadow flushed a bright green at that. “I might’ve already picked out a name...does it sound alright?” he asked, studiously looking anywhere but at his friends.

The chao chirped at the name and snuggled a little further into the fur on his head, seemingly pleased with the title. 

He began to smile at that. “You like that name, do you?” he asked teasingly.

“It sure looks like it! I think it’s a lovely name, hon.” Rouge added.

The chao cooed, cementing its name with all of the team (whether Omega would admit it or not).

Now, if anything, Shadow and his chao were even more close than before. Rouge even bought it a tiny leather jacket to match his style, which was quickly deemed by everyone (especially their friends, to whom she’d sent about fifty photos) the most adorable thing ever. 

...

One day, Shadow came home from lunch out with Silver and Blaze only to discover a quite unexpected scene- though he really should have seen it coming, considering what he’d noticed after his chao had hatched. Rouge was kneeling next to the sofa, scratching Spark behind the ears and saying in what could only be described as a baby voice, “Who’s your favorite momma? Me, that’s right. That’s right, isn’t it?”

“Uh….” he interrupted, feeling more than a little uncertain as to how to respond to this. He was torn between “I didn’t know you had a baby voice” and “I’m glad to see you and Spark getting along” and wasn’t entirely sure which one to go with here.

The bat, on the other hand, jumped a good three feet in the air at the sound before glaring at Shadow furiously. “Don’t startle me like that!” she shouted, more than a little tense...and also a bit worried?

The hybrid didn’t react, instead saying “It’s nice to see you spending time with Spark too, Rouge.” with a smile. 

She relaxed a little at that, and Shadow sighed. “Rouge, I wouldn’t make fun of you- I do the same kind of thing, don’t I?”

“You’re right, you’re right.” the bat admitted. “I just had to! It looks like me- it even has my wings! How could I not?”

Shadow moved to sit down on the sofa at that, reaching out to pat the chao as well. Rouge smiled at him gratefully, and then they both looked down at the cute creature in between them, who was promptly staring up at both with a confused look on its face. After a moment, though, it seemed to realize that everything was alright and nuzzled both Mobians before curling up on the couch happily.

…

Another time, the entire team was out grocery shopping at their favorite store when Spark’s eye was caught by the soft, warm cinnamon buns sitting behind a glass case. After a minute or two of desperate pulling at the seams- to no avail- it flew over to Shadow and began to poke at his shoulder until he turned to look at it.

“Yes? What is it?” he asked, giving the chao a little scratch under the chin.

The chao pointed excitedly at the sweet treats, but its expression melted into one of dismay upon hearing him say “No, Spark, that’s not very good for you- and it’s too big for you to finish all by yourself, too.”

It mimed a clock insistently- they didn’t go to the store that often, after all- its frown deepening all the while. Shadow felt a little uncertain- he enjoyed giving the chao treats, but was now really the best time to feed it so much sugar? It could end up flying all over the place, and he really didn’t feel like getting banned from yet another grocery store. (The last one had been because Omega got a little too excited while messing around with the shopping cart and had melted it and twisted it into a knot...somehow. They were rapidly escorted out after that.)

Suddenly, though, the chao shuffled forward, took one of his fingers in between its tiny paws, and stared up at him with the softest, most pleading look it could possibly manage, its eyes wide and mouth quivering. “No...no, come on…” Shadow protested weakly, but already his resistance was melting away. It practically seemed to be saying haven’t I been good all week? Can’t I please just have this one treat? and the hybrid was in no condition to fight back.

Within moments, Spark was holding a cinnamon roll and dug into it with glee, only pausing once to nuzzle Shadow happily and offer him a quick bite as thanks. He accepted the gesture of appreciation easily (even though now his face had sugar on it after the chao’s affectionate thank-you) and was more than happy to see his chao smiling broadly with the treat in its hands.

…

The chao was, of course, still a great help to Shadow as well. One night in particular, it woke up to the sounds of quiet whimpering and began to look around, startled. For a moment, it turned to its caretaker for help- and then discovered that he was the one in trouble.

Shadow was curled up on his side, his brow creased in distress and his whole body shaking terribly. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut and occasionally the most terribly saddening sounds would escape his mouth. Once or twice, a tear escaped and trickled down his face.

Spark crawled up to his face gently, licking away the tear and nuzzling his cheek. Shadow shuddered briefly, but seemed to relax almost infinitesimally when the dark chao pressed itself against his chest for a moment. Eventually, the creature managed to get him to roll onto his back, at which point it crawled onto his chest, hoping that this would help him begin to relax.

It really did work- within moments, the small, warm weight on his chest made Shadow’s breathing even out and his shivers ease as the nightmare that was plaguing him began to fade.

Spark curled up, pleased with itself, and fell back asleep not long after.

…

There was just one problem amongst all this newly-discovered happiness that came with the chao. Ever since it had evolved out of its cocoon, Omega seemed as though he were hardly willing to interact with it.

Rouge or Shadow would hand it over to him, only to get it back less than a minute later. He spent the least amount of time with it out of the three, but when he was asked if he didn’t like the chao, he never said as much. 

Omega didn’t tend to lie...but then why wouldn’t he do anything with it?

Once or twice, they’d caught him merely staring at Spark as the little creature sat on the couch, his optics clicking but otherwise utterly silent. The two Mobians hardly knew what to make of it- he’d never acted like this before.

They finally had the opportunity to discover why he was behaving strangely several days later, though, entirely due to an accident on Shadow’s part. Rouge and Omega had been answering a distress call regarding some rogue G.U.N. robots and needed to call in the hybrid to help. He’d driven his motorbike directly to the scene and leapt straight into battle…

...and hadn’t noticed Spark peeking out of the bag he’d left on his bike.

The chao- while fast, to be sure- was in no way prepared for a full-on battle. While at first it had hoped to help its little family, flying about uncertainly in hopes of doing something, it quickly discovered that the only thing it could really do was to hide behind an upended concrete slab and hope it wasn’t noticed.

That, unfortunately, didn’t quite work out.

It didn’t take long before one of the rogue drones spotted a fourth heat signature aside from the three it was fighting and began to stalk towards it, charging its laser cannon in the process. Shadow, confused at first, felt his stomach drop in horror upon seeing his tiny chao shaking in fear as the machine advanced on its hiding spot. He hadn’t thought to bring a Chaos Emerald, believing this would be an easy battle- and Rouge was busy in the air.

The laser cannon on the drone was almost fully charged, and Shadow fired up his skates in a futile attempt to somehow reach Spark before-

A white hot blast lit up the area.

Shadow couldn’t have stopped the strangled cry that came from his mouth if he had wanted to. The smoke began to clear, and he almost couldn’t look…

Something stirred within the haze, and as it cleared away, Shadow felt his whole body sag with relief upon seeing Omega shifting to an upright position from where he’d shielded the chao with the back of his chassis, blocking the full force of the laser. He let out a sigh as he caught a glimpse of Spark held safely in Omega’s hand as the other one retracted to reveal a flamethrower.

“MY TURN.”

Within moments, the drone was just so much melted slag on the floor and the battle’s tide was turned. Shadow and Rouge dispatched the other robots and then rushed to Omega, who had held onto the chao this entire time.

“Omega...thank you.” Shadow said, taking Spark from his friend and holding it tightly.

“IT WAS- zzzt- NOTHING.” Omega said, a sudden staticky buzz splitting his sentence in two.

“Omega?” Rouge asked, her eyes narrowing. “What happened to you?”

“NOTHING.” he said hurriedly, his voice still glitching. “WAIT- DON’T YOU D-DARE-”

The three had already begun looking to see what had happened...but then froze when they saw the damage his back panel had taken while shielding Spark from the blast. A giant, smoking hole of warped and fused metal was burned into his chassis, revealing a bunch of melted and sparking wiring that definitely needed urgent attention.

“Omega…” Shadow looked horrified.

Rouge frowned, confused. “Why would you do this to yourself? I know how much you hate having to go get repairs.”

The robot let out a burst of static that sounded almost like a resigned sigh. Turning around, he muttered, “IT’S LI-LITERALLY YOU. AND ROUGE. BUT TINY. THAT APPEARS TO HAVE… STRANGE EFFECTS- zzzt- ON MY BEHAVIOR.”

“Do you...not like those effects?” Rouge asked, now clearly shifting into ‘I’m figuring things out’ mode. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding it so often?”

“I AM A ROBOT OF MASS DESTRUCTION. I AM NOT SUPPOSED TO CARE FOR TINY CREATURES SUCH AS THIS ONE. I SHOULD NOT FEEL ANY ‘WORRY’ ABOUT IT- AND YET-” Omega cut off there with a frustrated crackle.

Shadow still didn’t understand. “You’ve always been a robot of mass destruction, but you never thought it was weird to worry about us before.”

“THAT WAS DIFFERENT!” Omega insisted. “YOU BOTH ARE POWERFUL. IT IS NATURAL THAT RESPECT AND CONSEQUENTLY OTHER THINGS SHOULD COME FROM THAT. BUT THIS-! IT HAS NO DESTRUCTIVE QUALITIES! BUT STILL I...YOU KNOW...”

“It’s official, Omega.” Rouge said at that, a smirk growing on her face. “You’re becoming more and more like us...organics are always weak for cute things.”

“IT IS SHAMEFUL THAT I SHOULD COME TO THIS.” he grumbled.

“It’s not so bad, really.” Shadow said, placing a hand on his arm.

“And that’s coming from the guy who never used to admit he cares about people!” Rouge insisted. “Omega, you know you don’t have to be embarrassed about that kind of thing here- you’d never make fun of Shadow for not being tough all the time, would you?”

“I GUESS NOT…” he said, still seeming irritated.

At this point, Spark flew up to sit in Omega’s hand, looking up at the robot with its little frowning face, before reaching out and patting a single finger solemnly with its paw.

“OH NO.”

“Oh yes.” Rouge answered, grinning. “Let’s get you to Tails now though, okay? Then once you’re fixed up you can come home and pet the chao.”

Omega turned his head away and refused to dignify that with a response.

(He did, however, pet the chao when he got home. Nobody teased him about it, for which- while he’d never say it- he was rather grateful.)

…

It was inevitable, eventually, that Team Dark’s schedule wouldn’t be perfect and that they’d all have to be out and busy at some point. This, of course, meant that Spark would have to be dropped off at the chao daycare. 

Shadow had managed to force himself to reconcile with that fact, but the chao wasn’t nearly as good at that sort of thing.

On the day of, it was sobbing desperately, clinging to Shadow’s jacket with a tight grip as though it’d been handed a horrible punishment instead of a day spent at the warm, welcoming building in front of it. “It’s going to be alright. You’ll be okay, it’s just for a day. See, the Mobians who run it are very nice- won’t you look?” the hybrid whispered in a soothing voice, gently rubbing Spark’s head.

Omega stepped forward. “DON’T YOU...WANT TO SHOW HOW BRAVE YOU CAN BE?” he said awkwardly. Talking to the chao was still taking some getting used to for him, but he was definitely trying his best.

Rouge smiled warmly at that. “Of course! We’ll all be so proud of you, don’t you know that?”

“We can make a cake especially for you when you get home too, alright?” Shadow said, and that was the final thing the chao needed to hear. Wiping its eyes with a final few sniffles, it flew over to the little walkway towards the entrance and stood up tall, its body shaking slightly with leftover stress and its attempts not to cry.

“We love you!” Rouge called, blowing it a quick kiss.

“See you soon.” Shadow said gently, waving with a smile.

“YOU’LL BE THE BEST ONE THERE.” Omega added, shuffling in place a little.

The chao whimpered briefly, but then turned away and bounded into the daycare before it could lose its nerve. 

Throughout the morning, it remained relatively antisocial- a bit like the hedgehog whose appearance it had taken- during the music and karate lessons. The other chao all babbled and played together, being mostly neutral and hero-types, and the few dark chao that were there wanted to cause an awful lot more trouble than Spark was in the mood for.

One thing that it noticed very clearly, though, was the extraordinarily frustrating presence of a royal blue hero and speed-type chao.

This chao didn’t seem to think even once (let alone twice) about anything it did. It banged on the drums until Spark’s ears were sore during music class and then somehow managed to smack it in the face during karate lessons twice, and all the while it chatted away with about five other chao all around it.

Needless to say, by midday, when it was playtime, Spark had just about had enough.

When the blue chao rushed directly through the little sand city that it had been carefully building, swiping everything away with a single dash, Spark growled, picked up the plastic shovel it had been playing with, and threw it so hard it whacked the other creature in the arm.

Snarling, it began to stomp off when it felt a hand on its shoulder. The blue chao darted away and began hurriedly to try and rebuild the city, occasionally glancing up at Spark with an apologetic expression in its eyes.

It...looked awfully sad, actually.

Suddenly, the dark chao remembered how it had quickly stopped banging on the drums when the teacher had told it to, and how it had looked rather guilty when it had smacked Spark in the face, and how excited it was when talking with the other chao…

Maybe it was just a little clumsy sometimes.

Spark sighed a little. The other meant well, it decided, as its anger began to fade. It appreciated the apology...but now the sculptures were gone and it couldn’t get them back. Then, though, its gaze fell upon a pair of toy cars sitting nearby. 

Pulling the blue chao over to a strip of flat, packed earth nearby, it gave one car to its surprised companion and then set its own down at a line that could work quite well as the start of a race.

Soon enough, the other creature worked out the idea and began to cheer with delight, and before long they were racing cars like they’d been friends since the start. Eventually, they even switched to running races themselves, over and over again until they were all worn out and collapsed on the cool grass in a heap. Before long, though, they were up and at it again, only this time they started with a building game, and then had a little fun with the musical instruments, and soon enough Spark couldn’t help but wonder how they had ever fought in the first place.

Eventually, they decided that their next activity would be a race to the top of the jungle gym they noticed nearby. Spark was determined not to lose as it scrambled up the bars. It pulled itself paw over paw up the structure, getting closer and closer to the top, until-

Suddenly, a bar that it had been sure existed in front of it only a moment ago was now clearly just a little too far away, and the mistake caused it to reel forward, desperately clinging to the slippery bar it sat on. It twisted head over heels until it slid and fell all the way back to the ground, the wind slammed forcefully out of its little lungs.

Spark gasped soundlessly, trying and failing to pull air back into itself. After several agonizing seconds, it finally caught its breath- and then nearly got it knocked back out again by the impact of its new friend.

Regaining focus, the dark chao realized with a start that its friend was practically wailing into its chest, the soft blue creature shaking with desperate, panicked sobs. It looked up quickly, its eyes swollen and teary, and then reached out with its paws and hurriedly patted Spark’s body down, as though to reassure itself that the dark chao was still there. 

The creature in question sat up and pulled its friend into a tight hug, feeling nothing less than awful as the blue chao sniffled and whimpered worriedly in its arms. Eventually, it managed to calm down enough to amble over to a small nest made of blankets especially for tired chao and lay down there next to Spark. The two chao curled up together, nuzzling gently as the shaky breaths of the blue one finally evened out.

Spark felt the little ball over its head pop into a heart shape, and noticed briefly that its friend had done the same. They remained curled up like that for the last half-hour or so of their time in the daycare, alternately simply cuddling or talking about their respective owners.

Spark hoped they’d get to spend more time with this friend of theirs soon.

…

Shadow pulled up to the daycare on his motorcycle at closing time, doing his best to smooth out his frazzled quills. It wouldn’t be very good to let his chao know that he’d been nearly as worried about it as it had felt itself. 

He sighed, making his way towards the entrance of the building- and instantly felt the last wisps of his composure vanish upon seeing Sonic standing just inside. Before he could panic and flee the area at top speed, his legs (which didn’t seem to have received the message just yet) carried him through the door and inside.

Almost immediately, the blue hedgehog turned to face him with a bright smile. “Oh! Hey, Shadow!” Sonic said happily. “I didn’t know you brought your chao here, too! I’ve gotta say hi to the little guy again sometime!”

“This is my first time bringing it here. If it’s alright with that…I suppose you may.” the hybrid said, trying his best to sound coherent and cool (but actually just seeming stiff and awkward).

They talked for a little while as they waited for their chao to come out, chatting about their lives and friends. More than once, Shadow had to pinch himself in order to stay focused. His mind kept threatening to wander off into dreamland when he was around the hero, ready to admire his many great qualities (and wonderful appearance) at the drop of a hat.

Eventually, though, he became a bit worried by the fact that chao after chao were wandering out through the playroom door, being collected, and leaving…but neither Spark nor Sonic’s chao had even showed up. Soon enough, the two decided to walk into the room and find their tiny charges themselves.

“Uh, hi, mixter!” Sonic greeted the leopard who ran the daycare. “Didja see my lil’ buddy somewhere around here?”

“Oh, hello Sonic!” they said brightly- clearly the hero had been to this place quite a few times before. “Yes, your chao is over there in that nest there, sorry. I just hated to disturb those two…”

Shadow frowned. Those two?

His question was promptly answered when Sonic whisked aside the blanket covering the nest, only for both of them to stare at the sight inside.

Two purring chao, one clearly Sonic’s and the other obviously Shadow’s, were snuggled up together with big hearts floating over their heads. Even the hybrid’s dark chao, notorious for its ever-present frown, looked completely at peace with a small smile on its face.

He tried his best not to freak out.

“Erm…” Shadow began eloquently.

“Uh…” Sonic replied.

The two chao perked up at this, looking happily at their owners before nuzzling gently together in a manner that made Shadow’s stomach leap into his throat and then crash straight through the floor. In a further twist (both in events and in the striped hedgehog’s internal organs), Sonic’s chao then leapt happily into his arms, leaving Shadow to stare at the tiny version of his crush cuddling into his chest fur.

He sincerely hoped there was a convenient couch nearby for him to sit down on.

“Blu- come on-” Sonic began, looking oddly panicked for some reason, but then Spark sprang eagerly onto his shoulder and the hero rapidly fell silent as the dark chao nudged his cheek.

The two hedgehogs stared at each other for a long time. Shadow tried to move or do something other than just stand there, but it was awfully difficult when the hero was looking at him with those wide, soft green eyes….

“Er…Sonic?” Shadow finally choked out, in an odd, strained sort of tone.

“Yeah?”

“I think I’d like my chao back now.”

“Yeah.”

They each handed over their respective creatures, though Shadow felt rather reluctant to let such a tiny version of Sonic out of his arms. And for a moment he could almost have sworn that the hero held Spark a little longer than necessary, too…

…

Once he got home, the hybrid collapsed onto the couch and covered his eyes briefly with a hand. Spark, who had at first rushed into the kitchen (not having forgotten the promise of cake), came back and began to tug on his arm briefly before realizing that maybe Shadow wasn’t quite up to doing much of anything at the moment.

Rouge and Omega walked in just a moment later, their work having ended a little after Shadow’s. Upon seeing him slumped on the furniture, though, their greetings were cut short and instead replaced by worried questions.

Shadow sighed. “Spark...just spent a bunch of time cuddling with Sonic’s chao. And he noticed.”

“And that’s a good thing, hon.” Rouge shot back, having resisted a facepalm the moment she realized what all this was about.

“It is not!” the hedgehog cried out, before realizing that Spark was more than a little stressed by his tone of voice. “I’m not mad at you, don’t worry, it’s just...I already make enough of a fool of myself around him on my own. He’ll figure it out soon enough if we keep this up.”

“SO LET HIM.” Omega said. “EITHER HE STARTS DATING YOU OR HE’S AN IDIOT.”

Shadow blushed furiously. “It doesn’t work like that!”

“EXCEPT WHEN IT DOES.”

“Why don’t you tell him, hon?” Rouge asked. “I mean…” and here she developed a devious smile, “...didn’t his chao technically also act all affectionate with yours?”

The hybrid’s ears were bright green by now. “He’s nice to everyone, Rouge.”

At this point, Spark- who had left temporarily to get a pencil and paper- held up a drawing it had made of the scene at the jungle gym earlier. Shadow, of course, immediately began fussing over his chao, checking for any bruises or scrapes, but the bat in particular saw something entirely different.

“Kinda...reminds me of what happened on Space Colony ARK.” she mused. 

Shadow’s head shot up at that. “What?”

Rouge smirked, but it was bittersweet this time. “Your fall...it really hurt him too, y’know? He didn’t go out in public for a long time after that.”

“He...he never mentioned that to me…”

“He wouldn’t have!” she said. “Sonic isn’t the type to ‘bother’ others with his feelings.” Rouge explained, doing air quotes at one point.

“HE ALSO STARES AT YOU WHEN YOU ARE NOT LOOKING.”

“He what?!” By now Shadow had been reduced to just looking back and forth between his two friends. 

Spark flew in front of Shadow’s face and began to mime something. First pointing at Shadow, then a heart, then talking, then a hedgehog with all its quills pointed down…

“No! I can’t just tell him!”

“We’re hanging out with his team next week at the park- you should do it then.” Rouge replied, ignoring the last thing he’d just said.

“Did you not hear me, I can’t-”

“YOU WILL NEED SOMETHING NICE TO WEAR.” Omega said loudly over the rest of his sentence.

Spark cheered approvingly.

“So...you three have just decided for me whether or not I’m going to confess to Sonic.” Shadow sighed, beginning to resign himself to the fact.

“Absolutely, hon!” Rouge said brightly, slipping an arm around his shoulders.

He glowered at all three of them, but it lacked any real malice. “Alright, I’ll play along...for now.” he grumbled.

“EXCELLENT. LET THE PLANNING COMMENCE.”

…

One week later, Shadow was standing in the middle of a patch of grass, feeling like his knees were about to buckle as sweat trickled through his quills. He was no longer resigned to telling Sonic about his feelings and was in fact considering jumping into the nearby lake and hiding there for the duration of the hangout. His stomach- along with whatever scraps of resolve he may have had- were currently all the way back at their house.

On top of all that, he was frankly surprised he didn’t just spontaneously burst into flames when the other three Mobians showed up, Sonic in the lead.

“Hey guys!” he said excitedly. “Long time no see!”

Rouge snickered a bit at his catchphrase (it was one of many) but Shadow just felt his ears burn. He was just so cute and cheesy and already the hybrid’s mind was devolving into a mushy mess.

“Rouge, Omega.” he greeted them each, but he seemed to pause for a second on the last name. “...Shadow.”

The hedgehog in question thankfully managed a reply, and then the fun began in earnest. Knuckles and Shadow competed in several arm-wrestling matches with narration from Tails (“...aaaand Knuckles looks like he’s in the lead!”) and commentary from Omega (“YOU’RE LUCKY I DON’T ARM-WRESTLE OR ELSE BOTH OF YOUR ARMS WOULD BE BROKEN.”). Rouge and Sonic were busy pranking other innocent people, though once in a while the latter would look over at the competition, distracted.

Eventually, Tails and Omega got bored- which of course meant Knuckles and Shadow had to play the role of caretaker (“No, you can’t blow up trees. No, not even for ‘science’.”) for a little while.

At one point, though, Rouge got bored with the pranks and had dragged the echidna off to a park bench and was now flirting with him enough to turn his face as red as his spines. Tails had promised to behave- which now meant that he was halfheartedly attempting to convince Omega not to modify his cannon to launch ducks from the nearby pond- leaving Sonic and Shadow to themselves. Blu and Spark had been playing in the grass all this time (since both of them had brought their chao without really realizing that the other would do the same), and Shadow had very definitely not been thinking about how lucky his chao was that emotions were easy for it.

He remembered the talk his friends had given him before this outing then and wondered if maybe, just maybe, it could be that easy. Before he could stop himself, he’d already spoken.

“...Sonic?”

“Yeah?” the hero asked, turning to face Shadow.

“I...wanted to talk to you about something.” he said, regretting everything already because look how stupid he was about to seem...yet Shadow Robotnik the Hedgehog had never been one to do things by halves.

“Oh, really?” Sonic said, and now he almost looked relieved, for some reason. “I, uh, was actually hoping to do the same. That’s cool, what is it?”

“No, no, you go first.” Shadow urged him, hoping that he’d take the offer.

Unfortunately, today was not his lucky day. “No, man, you asked first! Go ahead, what was it?”

“Really- it’s fine.”

“No, you had something you wanted to say!” Sonic insisted.

“It’s okay, I swear-”

“Well, I guess-”

“I mean, if you want-”

“Okay-”

“You see-”

“I like you!”

Both hedgehogs shouted the words at the exact same time, before freezing and staring at each other.

“Wait…” Shadow began.

Sonic’s eyes were wide. “You like me back?!?” he gasped, hands flying up to his mouth.

“...yes.” he admitted, looking off to the side in embarrassment. Then it hit him. “Wait. You like me back?”

“Of course! How could I not?” Sonic asked incredulously. “You’re smart, funny, nice-” He’d begun listing off attributes while counting on his fingers, but cut himself off upon noticing Shadow’s confusion.

“Yes, but you’re a hero. The world’s hero.” Shadow began to frown, staring at the grass. “Why would you settle for someone like-”

“No.” Sonic growled, and the hybrid looked up suddenly to see his face twisted in anger. “Don’t ever say that.”

“But everyone thinks it…” Shadow protested weakly.

“Yeah, well, ‘everyone’ isn’t part of my love life.” Sonic assumed a slightly less aggressive stance, placing a hand on his hip. “Whoever’s been telling you that can either leave you alone or get their face introduced to my sneakers.”

Shadow blushed. “Nobody needed to. I just assumed...but perhaps I shouldn’t have.” he added quickly, seeing the hero begin to glower again. 

“That’s right!” he said, zipping over to stand directly in front of Shadow. “No assumptions here- talk to me from now on if something’s worryin’ you, ‘kay?”

Then, he seemed to notice the sudden stiffness in the hybrid’s posture, as well as the green flush slowly creeping up his ears. Sonic leaned forward with a smirk, resting his forearm on Shadow’s shoulder. “Thinkin’ about something?”

Shadow gulped.

For once, he decided that he could do what he wanted. So, he slowly reached up a hand and touched the peach fur on Sonic’s arm gently, like it was the most delicate thing in the world. 

Rather more quickly, Sonic turned a shade of bright red to rival Omega’s paint job.

“So, uh…” he began, his voice shaky. “Erm...do ya feel like sitting under that tree? Together?”

Shadow agreed, and the two walked over to the shady patch, sitting down and resting against each other. Soon enough, though, Sonic turned to face Shadow, a little nervous. “Do we, like, need to talk about this? Figure out...what to do about…us?” He started turning pink again.

“Maybe later. We have a lot of time, after all.” Shadow said, trying to contain the soaring feeling inside when Sonic said ‘us’- until he realized that he didn’t have to any longer.

“What’re you smiling about?”

“You. And me. Together.” Shadow said simply, making Sonic laugh and snuggle up against him, resting his head on a black-furred shoulder.

“Wow. That’s, uh….that’s new. I really like it though.”

Then, the hero looked up at him. “I really like you, too.”

At this point, a loud whistle could be heard from Rouge, who was standing not too far off and had likely heard a lot of what they’d said. Sonic just giggled, while Shadow shot her a death glare. She just winked and mouthed I’ll keep them occupied, at which point the hybrid tried not to show how very much he appreciated that and failed miserably.

And Sonic was purring now. Which of course meant that every single brain cell in Shadow’s head was promptly dead for the next five minutes.

After he’d recovered from that, Shadow wrapped his arms tightly around his...boyfriend? Maybe? He thought for a moment. “Hey, Sonic?”

“Yeah?”

“How do you feel about being my-” Shadow paused briefly to cough, trying to get the words out- “-boyfriend?”

“I think I like that a lot.”

Shadow smiled warmly, feeling the beginnings of a purr rise up in his own chest.

“I like that a lot, too. Almost as much as I like you.”

[mammons-tax-returns]

How would Lucifer, Mammon, Levi, Satan, Asmo, Barbatos, Solomon, and Diavolo react to a male MC who wears skirts (because *chants* men in skirts, it’s masculine af) on the daily? bonus if the MC wears black nail polish!

REACTING TO MC THAT WEARS SKIRTS

LOVE THIS PROMPT 🙏

During this I imagined 💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻TANGO DANCER SOLOMON and thats going into my art idea list

masterlist

✖️MALE MC✖️

Not unlike all the other boys, Lucifer is willing to risk it all as soon as he sees it.

His favorite cut of skirt is the classic a-line ones, both modest and not.

A CLOSE second goes to wrap skirts.

This is a SFW blog so I will not be going into any detail at this time ✨

Literally loses his breath everytime he sees MC, and it surprises him.

If MC isn’t already wearing the RAD skirt, he’s already offering to get him a set. Almost too eagerly?

When MC decides to not wear a skirt one day, he tries not to make it too obvious, but he’s simply curious as to why is all. Maybe a tad bit let down.

MC insisted one time that Lucifer painted his nails for him, and...

“Well, normally Asmo is the one doing that for all of us...”

“But Lucifer 🥺”

“Alright... Fine. But I’ll have to continue my paperwork in between each layer.

It’s just kinda cute to think that he would spend an incredibly unnecessary amount of time on each nail, trying to perfectly lay down the polish. Occasionally, his tongue will poke out because of his concentration.

There’s some slip ups here and there, but mentioning them will only get him flustered.

I don’t use this word lightlySIMP SIMP SIMP

He thinks he loves MC in every skirt imaginable just as equally as the last (which, he actually might) but deep down he can’t deny that a mini skirt just hits different.

The first time he saw MC wearing a mini skirt, mammon’s initial reaction was to cover him up before anyone could see him.

However, he failed to realize that he was actually the last of the brothers to see him, since he woke up late.

But that’s just what being the avatar of greed does to you. You just want to keep what’s yours, no matter what.

But considering his jacket isn’t as big as Lucifer’s or Solomon’s, he ended up just holding it up against MC’s lower half and stood in front of him.

It took the coaxing of MC and the snark comments of his siblings to make Mammon finally allow MC to walk around freely.

Looking back on it, Mammon most certainly understands why even Asmo had called him clingy.

But even now, he can’t help but hold MC a little bit closer in public when so many demons are staring at him! It just feels wrong to allow them to do that.

Cut him some slack, he thinks MC looks amazing, and he trusts him, but they’re literally in hell surrounded by demons. He just wants to keep his boy safe <33

Levi doesn’t even realize what MC’s wearing at first.

In fact, he doesn’t realize even after their first FEW encounters.

He only notices because while Mammon was ranting to him and Satan about money, he brings up MC and his “stupid and cute but also dumb skirts”

Levi is baffled that he’s the only one that hasn’t noticed it. So, the next time he walks by MC’s room, he contemplates stopping by to talk. Right... Socialize. That.

While Levi is stuck in his thoughts, MC opens the door, presumably ready to go out to a party with Mammon and Asmo.

*fish man short circuits*

MC looks...! S-so cute....!

- thinks the third born otaku.

Because I’m big on fashion, I can kind of picture an exact skirt I feel would apply to him. Let your mind run free but I imagine a semi-sheer maxi skirt with water-like embellishments uwu

But don’t get me wrong, Levi literally loves seeing MC in skirts so anything will get him like 😳 yall know how he is

Actually starts to get more interested in feminine fashion because of MC. And one day, he purchases a long black skirt from Akuzon.

He saw a popular cosplayer wearing one, and so he makes that his excuse.

No one even realizes the change except for Asmo, who gushes over the new look, even if it barely changed. MC also notices, but only compliments him/brings it up when they’re alone so Levi doesn’t overheat.

I was this close to typing “Satan is a man of beauty and FASHION” can you believe that

OKAY ENOUGH SATAN SLANDER

Satan... He can recognize when someone else looks ridiculous.

But he knows for a FACT. That MC very likely pulls off a skirt better than anyone he’s seen before.

Call him biased, but he sincerely loves it on MC specifically.

He likes the puffier skirts because they’re ADORBS, but for a more casual look, there’s this one asymmetrical skirt in particular that makes MC look so handsome to him.

He has no idea why men don’t wear skirts more often! Surely MC isn’t the only one that can do it!

Oh. Right. Gender norms 😪🤚🏼

Satan feels his anger crawl up his skin when he watches MC get ridiculed. And just for something he simply enjoys wearing! The nerve of demons.

He advances to “de-escalate” the situation in the most “avatar of wrath” way possible, but when he sees MC’s slumped shoulders walking away from him, he feels more inclined to follow and comfort him.

Satan gives an icy glare to the irrelevant demons, taking note of their faces, and goes after MC.

He doesn’t immediately bring up the situation, instead opting to go out on a spontaneous date to a nice café or a shopping district. Anything to distract from the situation subtly.

If his plan works out, splendid. Anything to make light of situation without even addressing it for even a day is good.

If the shopping and food doesn’t quite bring MC’s smile to his eyes, Satan will just have to be forward with his feelings for once.

“MC. I’m not entirely sure how I can get it through to you, but you shouldn’t be worrying about what some moronic, low-level demons think of you or your clothes. Much less what they say. Just be you, and make them suffer ten times worse.”

MC relishes in his words, even if the last bit sounded more like a threat than anything.

The last thing Satan would ever do is let MC even hesitate wearing an outfit that he would have had no trouble throwing on any other day because of someone else.

Asmo screams (in a happy way)

“No, Mammon! You’re wrong. MC is NOT my personal dress-up doll! He’s my model.”

Trying to break the stigma around Asmo’s “shallow” personality, let’s get the obvious things out of the way.

He and MC shop together pretty much every other day. It’s almost concerning. And nail appointments are, of course, regular.

NOW THAT THAT’S OVER,

Yes yes, Asmo loves the skirts and wonderfully glossy black nails, but there’s still such a massive divide between him and MC. Not physically, or even relationship-wise.

He’s never met someone like MC, who is so fashion-heavy and just the right amount of self-centered.

He thinks its the fact that they’re a human and demon. But he’s seen firsthand that the line between what makes a demon so different from a human is very thin. Solomon is an example of that.

But he realizes it’s just MC. He’s simply dressing for himself and himself only.

Asmo loves himself, there’s no doubt. And it’s nice to go out and dress fancy for others. He couldn’t dream of another lifestyle.

But he has to admit that what MC is doing is working for him. He comes off as a charming sort of man when he ignores the negative comments made about his clothes.

He knows that people in both Devildom and the human realm are a little sensitive when it comes to men in skirts. And the fact that MC continues to wear them is beautiful in and of itself.

This got kind of deep out of nowhere and i apologize but Asmo deserves to be seen for more than he’s constantly portrayed as 😞

Diavolo isn’t really thrown off that much by it at first, but as time passes, he starts to understand the appeal of skirt-wearing MC.

PENCIL SKIRT LOVER 🚨🔊PENCIL SKIRT LOVER🚨🚨🚨🔊🔊🔔🗯

Barbatos has to remind him that it’s rude to stare, but he finds it almost entertaining how whipped they BOTH are for MC.

Like Asmo, he actually loves bringing him out to shop!

The only difference between the two experiences is that Diavolo has no fucking idea what he’s doing when he picks out clothes for him.

Which leads to some pretty funny/terrible clothing combinations.

No, Diavolo, MC will not be wearing a flannel top with a camouflage hi-low skirt. Put those plaid socks away.

He’s confused and even a little sad when MC continues to turn down his ideas, but he figures that he should turn this into a learning opportunity.

So he lets MC grab whatever he wants, and patiently waits for him to finish up in the fitting rooms.

The store clerk is shitting her pants at the sight of the literal future ruler of Devildom hyping MC up with the energy of a puppy retriever.

Barbatos does an amazing job pretending like this doesn’t affect him.

He’s a classy man, he just internally loses it when he sees MC in any fancy skirt, really. From silky gold ruffles to a victorian-esc vibe, he’s obsessed.

So when Diavolo makes arrangements for an event/ball, Barbatos makes sure to, at the very least, offer to help MC get ready at the castle. He may not be the most fashion-centric but being able to spend time with MC in an extravagant get up is enough to make a demon butler interested.

Most of the time he’s disappointed because in between the seven brothers, he’d be lucky to be able to see MC at all because of how jealous they can all get.

I can imagine that even Diavolo doesn’t get to hear what Barbatos has to say about MC and his ability to make him weak at the knees.

But all it takes is Diavolo prompting, “MC’s outfit tonight... It was a sight for sore eyes, correct?”

Then, Barbatos lets a compliment or two slip out.

I can also imagine MC wearing a slightly short snd flowy skirt, and some rather disgusting demons waiting for it to get picked up by the wind, only for Barbatos to already be there, discreetly holding the fabric down and shooting them an intensely calm smile

Barbatos will always be one step ahead of creeps.

👀..

sneaky boy is sneaky.. especially with the constant glances he gives MC.

Solomon’s favorite type of skirt to see on MC is DEFINITELY pleated. No other option.

Unlike Lucifer, if MC isn’t wearing a skirt, he makes it clear that he wishes he would’ve.

It’s in a playful manner, though! Don’t worry.

“No skirt today? Bummer. That’s fine though, I can’t expect myself to feel attracted any less.”

I imagine MC wearing a flowy skirt to some sort of event at the demon lord’s castle, and he uses his magic to make it temporarily sparkle or shine.

This mf flashy and wants EVERYONE to know that MC is dancing with HIM and no one else.

But if you ask him about it, what? What’re you talking about? Lights?? Emitting from your skirt??? While we were dancing ?¿ Crazy talk. I would never do such a thing.,.

As childish as it is, he loves to see the way it flows when MC twirls or turns.

Not in a weird way, either. It’s just beautiful to him.

So, not to be cheesy (which he WITHOUT A DOUBT is.) but he’ll occasionally just spin MC by his hand throughout the day, then catch/dip him by the waist.

[fanfic-scribbles]

Smile

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Summary: Bucky gives you some reasons to smile.

Quick facts: Romance – Bucky Barnes/Reader – Female Reader

Warnings: Fluff, puns, cheesy jokes, so cheesy

Words: 3344

A/N: I’m going to admit it upfront, about 40 percent of the time spent on this fic was spent on writing it. The other 60 percent was spent on finding the jokes. Also, this story is semi-inspired by the fact that my face is not nearly as expressive as it feels (I basically look like the polite cat meme when I really try and I can’t do it for long before my face hurts too much) so this goes out to other people who get accused of resting bitch/asshole face. And get written up for it. Anyway, please enjoy this goofy little Bucky/Reader get together.

  ~

‘How do you make a tissue dance?’

‘Put a little boogie in it.’

Bucky snorts and coughs when he accidentally breathes coffee instead of air. ‘That’s disgusting,’ he texts back but Sam just replies with an obnoxious smiling face. Bucky shakes his head and goes back to his coffee. It’s actually not so terrible today.

He doesn’t hang out in a dive, but this coffee shop is a type of quiet he almost never sees in the city. It’s too far from the tourism path for convenience and just outside the neighborhood purview where there are many other local (better) favorites. It’s clean enough and decently sized, but it’s decorated like it was supposed to be trendy ten years ago and the place is barely staffed, to match its perpetually nigh-empty interior. There was a short-lived attempt at hiring another person, but after a ridiculous amount of turnover the owners, or whoever, apparently cut their losses and the only constants that remain are Bucky, the lone customer, you, the person actually working the counter, and your manager.

You’re nice. You always speak kindly to Bucky and, when you think you can sneak it, upsize his cup without comment or charge. Also, one time when his glove broke and slipped off, you hadn’t even commented on the arm; you’d even helped him stop panicking enough to see it hadn’t gone far and helped secure it temporarily with a rubber band.

Your manager, meanwhile, is a dick who glares at Bucky and once made a snide comment about him leaning too close to the register, and only talks to you in demanding barks. Like now– but the five minute “hushed” conversation is winding down and soon it will be safe for Bucky to go get his refill.

“I’m writing you up,” the manager says.

You jerk back in shock. “For not smiling enough?”

“It’s what we got marked down for, it’s what’s going on your record,” he says, turns on his heel, and retreats into the back to do jack shit. Bucky glares at his back as he goes. His harsh expression turns to a milder frown when he looks at you, hunched over and staring at the counter with a dead expression on your face.

He looks at his phone, looks at his empty coffee cup, and makes a quick decision.

“Can I get a refill?” he asks when he’s in front of you, startling you out of your stagnant misery. You look up at Bucky and after a second force an unnatural smile on your face. He winces on your behalf.

“Of course,” you say softly, and turn to refill the cup.

When you hand it back to him Bucky shuffles, hesitates, but finally asks, “Why are colds bad criminals?”

You blink. “Uh…why?”

“Because they’re easy to catch.”

You blink again, and then let out a startled laugh. Bucky smiles slightly at the sound, and smiles more at the more natural, smaller turn of your lips as you say, “That’s…that’s a good one.”

“It’s pretty terrible.”

“All the best ones are,” you say, and the door chimes making Bucky break away. But as he watches you talk to the delivery man like normal he nods to himself. He leaves with his coffee to start the day and fires a quick text to Sam: ‘Where do you get your dumb jokes?’

~

The next day when the door chimes and you see your one regular customer, you let yourself smile a lot more naturally than you have been. Your face is starting to hurt and your boss is probably napping in the back, so you take the chance to relax.

“Hi,” you say. “The usual?”

“Please,” he says, polite as ever as he hands you exact change and you go to fix his cup. When you bring it back he asks, “What did the fish say when he swam into a wall?”

“What?”

“Dam.”

You giggle despite yourself. Bucky’s smile is small and guarded, but you haven’t had a moment yet where you haven’t been grateful to see it. Maybe this ‘smiling’ business is all it’s cracked up to be. If only it didn’t hurt your cheeks so much.

But as he tips his cup to you and goes to his favorite corner, you find you don’t mind the ache as much.

~

Every time he comes in now, he brings a new joke.

“What do you call a fake noodle?”

“An im-pasta.”

“What does a clock do when it’s hungry?”

“It goes back four seconds.”

“Why did the bike fall over?”

“It was two tired.”

The delivery is fairly flat but there’s always at least the hint of a smile and, you don’t know, it might be his absolute seriousness that sells it, because every one of them raises your spirits. You don’t know why he’s suddenly telling you jokes. For anyone else you might think they’re flirting, but you don’t get that impression here. He’s handsome, always looks put-together in quality clothes even if they seem picked for comfort over anything else, and even before this he has always been unfailingly polite. If he wants someone, he has to have someone just as lovely. Right?

You can’t help but think about it even after he comes back. And the wonderfully terrible jokes, thankfully, don’t stop.

“Why did the mushroom go to the party?”

You keep pouring the coffee while you ponder an answer. “I don’t know,” you decide and lift your head as you hand Bucky his drink.

The way he smiles is very fetching– not quite a smirk, it’s a little too unsure for that, but it tilts up to the side and gives him a boyish charm that would make anyone weak in the knees. “Because he was a fungi.”

It makes a smile big enough for you to feel, but considering how self-conscious you are now you quickly tell him, “I liked that.”

“I know,” he says. “You smiled.”

“You can tell?” Maybe you aren’t as bad off as you thought. Or maybe he’s just being nice. But he seems honest, and he nods decisively.

“I get not being the most…expressive.” He shrugs. “But anyone can still see it, if they look.”

The implication that he cares enough to look stuns you both to silence. He ducks his head shyly and lifts his coffee cup in thanks before retreating to his corner. When you finally have working vocal cords again you say, “Have a nice day.” It might be the first time you’ve ever really meant it.

~

“What’s the opposite of coffee?”

Bucky’s eyes widen and narrow in quick succession as he goes from surprise to contemplation. He weighs your question with all the dramatic seriousness you could hope for before he says, “I don’t know. What is the opposite of coffee?”

You grin when you say, “Sneezy.”

His smile is bright and he nods his head. “Not bad, not bad.” He leans on the counter, looking more relaxed than you’ve ever seen him. It’s…shockingly warming. You have to remind yourself not to get too close. He showed up out of the blue and he can be gone just as quickly. Just because he’s nice doesn’t mean he has any attachment here. In fact, you hope he doesn’t– you’d question his sanity otherwise. “Why did Mozart hate chickens?”

“I don’t know,” you say, eager to hear the answer.

“Because when he asked them for their favorite composer, they said, “Bach! Bach! Bach!’”

You laugh– that is, of course, when your supervisor pokes his head out of the back and scowls at you. He should be happy that you’re ‘smiling enough’ but you know full well anything you do is never going to be good. You freeze whatever expression is on your face as Bucky’s mood darkens and your heart sinks. “Enjoy your coffee,” you say, infusing meaning into every word. That ekes out a small imitation of a smile as Bucky raises his cup and goes to his seat.

Your supervisor starts to stalk over to you but you are saved by the sudden ringing of a phone, and he blessedly turns on his heel and goes to answer.

You sigh and start cleaning up the counter. Bucky is in his corner, hunched over and quiet as usual. He looks fine, but you feel bad for the interruption, even though you get the impression he understands. Still, this is one nice thing you’ve had in this otherwise miserable job and you’re not going to lose yet one more good person to your superior’s shitty attitude.

You push out a roll of receipt paper, scribble ‘Why did the espresso keep checking his watch?’ on it, and stick it in your apron. You walk over to wipe down an untouched table and, before heading back, make a little detour to drop it next to Bucky’s arm. He grabs the paper as you’re scooting away (plausible deniability in case your boss comes out) but it isn’t until you’re back behind the counter that you realize what that just looked like. Does he think you just dropped your number? He hasn’t opened it yet. Is he trying to figure out a way to let you down? You suddenly regret playing into this so much; he was just trying to be nice, he probably didn’t expect you to latch onto it so–

He opens the paper, reads it, and shoots you a little smirk. You breathe a sigh of relief and mindlessly wipe things down and rearrange well-organized creamers and straws until Bucky comes up for his customary pre-leaving refill. You’re a little disheartened it’s that time already, but it means you’re that much closer to the end of your shift, at least.

“Why?” Bucky asks quietly. It takes you a second before you remember the receipt paper and you surreptitiously check the back to see the door is closed.

“Because he was pressed for time,” you say quietly as you hand back his cup.

He chuckles. “I like it,” he says and takes a sip. “Thanks,” he adds as expected, but then he winks and you…you just stare at him as he leaves.

Should you have dropped your number?

~

A few days later, Bucky is caught off his guard and pays for it.

“What’s this?”

Bucky doesn’t get to his coffee cup fast enough and Sam snatches it and reads. “Sam,” Bucky grumbles but there it is, Sam’s eyes go wide and he turns that stare on Bucky. “Don’t look at me like that,” Bucky snaps and snatches his drink back.

“You’ve been using my jokes to hit on a dorky barista?” Sam asks and follows him across the room.

“I’ve been using jokes from the site you steal yours from to share with the nice woman who makes my coffee,” Bucky says and sits in a chair. He never stays for Sam’s group VA sessions and he should have left sooner, damn it. “I wouldn’t use yours. They’re gross.”

“Potentially inappropriate for a lady,” Sam says. Bucky opens his mouth to argue but, no, that’s exactly it, even though Sam’s tone implies something completely different from what Bucky would have said. “What’s her name?”

“Bucky?”

Steve has never been more of an actual hero to Bucky than he is right now. Right on time to walk back home with Bucky, Steve wanders in, sees the two of them, and stops. “Oh, should I…”

“Let’s g–” Bucky is immediately stopped by Sam’s hand on his shoulder.

“Bucky’s got his eyes on someone,” Sam says, immediately centering himself as Bucky’s most hated arch-nemesis.

…Okay, maybe not, but if Bucky didn’t have real problems he would be.

“I do not,” Bucky grumbles, because he knows it’s pointless and Steve is immediately sitting in front of them and leaning in like he’s the last girl at the sleepover.

“Really Buck? That’s great!” Steve says. “Have you…are you going to make a move?”

“No,” Bucky says and quickly runs down the situation, hoping that it will clear things up but knowing his friends too well. Indeed, Sam and Steve share smirks before looking at him again.

“You’re a real hero,” Sam says, only partly joking.

“I hate you,” Bucky says, ducking his head down. He doesn’t really blush anymore, if he ever did, but the motion is instinctive.

“You don’t.”

“I wish I did.”

Steve grins, as does Sam, and Bucky wants to duck into a hole. Goddamn mother hens, they’re going to want to–

“Should we come by?” Sam asks and leans back in his chair. “Be real wingmen?”

“No,” Bucky says, harsher than he means to. Sam and Steve don’t look bothered– they’ve weathered worse emotional snaps than that– but they wait for him to explain and Bucky doesn’t know if he can. Because what if this is leading to something? Is he ready for that? He thinks he might like you, but would he be okay putting in the effort of getting to know you? What if he can’t handle it? What if Steve and Sam walk in and they’re all you see? Both of them are plenty distracting, and charming, while Bucky can hardly put one foot in front of the other, some days. And what if this isn’t leading to anything, you’re just nice, and it’s nice, but Sam and Steve find out and look at him with all the pity they can muster?

“I just…want to see it through. On my own. Whatever this is.” ‘Or could be’ he leaves unspoken, because hoping for anything still feels like too much.

“Okay,” Sam says first, because of course he does, but Steve nods along quickly. It’s enough to make Bucky exhale deeply and relax muscles he didn’t know he had tensed. He rolls his eyes and stands up to cover for it.

“You’ll keep us updated though, right?” Sam asks, an easy grin on his face as he lounges in the chair.

“Like I’ll be able to avoid it,” Bucky mutters, finishes his drink, and lets Sam know they’re okay by throwing the empty cup at his head.

~

The fact that you’re running out of coffee-related jokes is stressing you out. You wanted to keep on theme but too many more days of this and you’ll be scouring the internet for whatever jokes Bucky hasn’t used yet. There are some coffee-related puns, but…the ones you like carry a romantic hint to them, and you were hoping to save those in case Bucky showed any interest. So far you haven’t picked up on anything, but you’re also very oblivious, and your roommate thinks you’re an idiot and he’s obviously into you.

But he might not be.

You do what you’ve been doing since your boss snarked at you about flirting on the clock and get Bucky’s cup ready with maybe your favorite joke.

‘How did the hipster burn his tongue?

He drank his coffee before it was cool.’

And smile proudly at it. Your small handwriting is getting better– Bucky barely has to squint at it this time, and he gives you a conspirator’s smile when he slides his twenty-dollar bill across the counter at you, with the neatest print writing along the margins.

‘What do you call an alligator detective?

An investi-gator.’

It’s cute and you snicker to yourself as you gather his change and place it gently in his gloved hand. He doesn’t retreat to his corner right away, though, and shuffles in place. “I was…I just wanted to say…” But then his eyes glance to your side and his face freezes in an unfortunately familiar way. “Thank you for the coffee,” he says woodenly and raises his cup just so.

“Of course. Have a nice day,” you say as robotically as possible and watch him go. Your supervisor clears his throat pointedly and you pretend like the place isn’t as clean as it was since the last time you went around. But now you’re thinking. About how awkward Bucky looked, and how he mentioned wanting to say something…maybe…maybe he is open. To you. Potentially.

Tomorrow, you decide with a thrill of nauseating adrenaline. Tomorrow you’re going to bring it up.

~

The next day you arrive at the shop at your usual time in the pre-dawn cold only to find an extra padlock on the door and a note in the window.

You stare, dumbfounded, and read the note. You read it again. And again.

‘Out of Business.’

But nobody called you.

You immediately grab your phone and dial your supervisor’s number. When he doesn’t pick up you call it again because this cannot be real. The job was shit but it was a job, and you knew what to expect, and you’ll never see Bucky again, will you?

It takes almost half an hour for the asshole to pick up– or maybe more, as the sun is starting to show up– and upon answering, he snaps, “What?!”

“What happened?” you ask, just as unkindly.

Your boss grumbles unintelligibly but you wait. “Did you see the sign?”

“I was working yesterday; no one mentioned anything about this.”

“Corporate called last night.” He yawns loudly. “I tried to call you.”

That’s a lie if you’ve ever heard one, but your tongue gets tripped up in anger and he says, “Sorry but there’s no room at the other branches for you, your last check is in the mail,” and hangs up.

You stand there for a while, trying to blink away tears at the sudden upheaval of your life. You should have found a replacement job while you had a chance. You should have asked your co-workers where they were going. You should have given Bucky your number.

You stand there for a little while, debating spending money you shouldn’t on a nice breakfast to wallow in, when the sound of footsteps coming up behind you makes you turn around.

“Oh, Bucky,” you say and rub your face. You think you’ve managed to hold it in, but it’s chilly and any exposed skin feels frozen.

“What’s going on?” he asks and peers around you at the note.

“Um…” You gesture uselessly. “Apparently this location is no longer in business. Just found out.”

Bucky’s jaw drops. “That asshole didn’t even call you?!”

The amount of anger on your behalf startles you. Startles both of you, actually, but just as he’s about to say something you laugh and say, “At least that asshole isn’t my problem anymore.” You sigh. You have savings, and the other job, and there’s always some other crappy job waiting for someone like you. But there’s something here that won’t be, and you pull out your phone and start typing. “Um…Bucky…there’s something I wanted to say to you. But it’s hard to say.”

“Okay?” he asks. You squeeze your eyes tight, brace yourself for impending rejection, and hold out your phone.

‘I like you a latte,’ followed by your phone number, hopefully gets the point across. After a few seconds your phone buzzes and you jump and bring it back, hoping no one texted you anything terrible while Bucky was staring at your phone.

It’s a new number, and the text reads, ‘It’s hard to espresso my feelings for you.’

You look up at him and he’s smiling, mouth parted slightly, and you start smiling so hard your cheeks hurt. But it’s okay. “I only had two more coffee jokes left before that line,” you confess and save his name to his number.

“Maybe you can tell them to me over breakfast? My treat,” he says and extends his arm.

You don’t even have to think about it. “Your treat this time,” you say, and link your arm with his. “In return, I’m going to show you where to get some good coffee.”

“Oh I don’t know,” he smirks at you. “The last place had its perks.”

Lacking a good comeback, you push your face into his shoulder to muffle your laughter. He leans into you, and doesn’t pull away even when you’ve gotten under control.

It’s the beginning of a brew-tiful relationship.

[bestintheparsec]

The Same Coin - Part 7 (finale)

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

A/N: This is it, the last chapter of my second series! I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to get this out, but I hope you enjoy! Thank you all so much for reading this little story, it’s definitely been more challenging to write but I love these two a lot and I’m grateful for the love you’ve given them❤️

Words: 5.8k

Warnings: mentions of blood/injury, angst

Masterlist

The stack of papers lands in front of you with a resounding smack. 

At first your stomach drops and you feel the blood leave your face, but the feeling is quickly replaced by one of disbelief. “Suspended?” you read the words aloud, appalled at them. It’s not so much that you’re surprised, but the principle of the matter that sends anger through your veins.

“Temporary suspension, agent,” the ambassador clarifies, crossing her arms. “And it’s just from being out in the field. You’ll still have work to do here. You’re lucky it’s not more than that.”

They’ve gotta be fucking kidding.

“All due respect, ambassador, but I don’t understand,” you grumble.

“Agent,” she leans forward and puts her hands on the desk. “You took classified intel and used it to locate a target without permission to do so. You then proceeded to track him down by yourself and damn near compromised the investigation by doing so.”

“Compromised the investigation?” you repeat her words incredulously. “There wasn’t any investigation. No one was doing anything about that asshole—he would’ve gotten away with the murder of multiple innocent lives, scot-free, if I hadn’t done anything.”

“The relationship we have with the Colombian National Police is...delicate, as you know. There are protocols that we stick to when it comes to the narcos—I would’ve thought you understood that. In pursuing him on your own without the government’s go-ahead, you put yourself and us in murky waters.”

Your mouth is tense and it takes everything in you not to get up and storm out. Whose side are they on? You’re trying to help the case against these assholes and this is what you get for it? Bullshit.

“I advise you to be careful in future, agent,” she continues. “The shady business that Murphy and Peña tend to get into—it’s very unlike you, and I wouldn’t recommend treading those same waters. We had to pull some strings to keep your ass off the hook, and it’s not something we’ll do again. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal,” you mutter under your breath, pushing the papers back in her direction as you stand up to leave.

~

It’s a cruel form of mockery, the way the ambassador drops another stack of paperwork in front of you onto your desk. A lesson, so-to-speak, as she hands off the irrelevant bullshit to you and walks away without a word. Not that you’ve been able to pay much attention to your work, anyways. Your partners are out in the field for the day, something you didn’t care to inquire about. You chuckle humorlessly at the irony of Steve and Javier going about their business while you’re forced to sit on the sidelines. You take a big gulp of your coffee, which is lightly laced with liquor that doesn’t seem to be strong enough to get you through the day. Sitting back in your chair, you force yourself to release the tension you’ve been holding in your shoulders and jaw.

When it’s finally time for your break, you dip out to your usual place to pick something up before taking it with you to the benches outside the embassy. You have a feeling this spot is going to become a regular one for you. It’s just open enough to let the occasional breezes provide some relief from the glaring Colombian heat and anything that’s brewing in your mind. 

You’re well aware that, at best, all of this is a mild repercussion—a slap to the ego, nothing more. But for some reason you’re frustrated enough that you have to force back tears from your eyes, and you can’t put a finger on why.

For a while you amuse yourself with the idea of leaving all these assholes behind—not that there’s much else for you here. You’ve given up a lot for this job—parts of yourself, that’s for sure. It never seems to give anything back. If regularly putting your life in danger isn’t enough, you have to deal with the condescension from the higher-ups and their ideas of what’s right or wrong. But ultimately, you're not here for them. You have a job to do and you'll keep doing it, just like you always have, until Escobar goes down.

"I'm doing my fucking best," you tell yourself out loud, a reminder above all else.

It’s almost time for you to go back when you hear some familiar footsteps sauntering towards you, Javier’s figure appearing as he takes a seat beside you. The bench creaks as you shift in your spot, making room for him. In all of today’s mess, you’ve almost forgotten about what happened—and what didn’t—last night with him.

You caught his eye a few times while at the desk this morning, but nothing else. It’s been awkward—somewhere in between deer-in-the-headlights and regret. Steve looked at you with pity, and there was a bit of that in Javier's eyes, but something else as well. Mostly you've been dodging any mentions of last night, reverting back to the usual state of pretending nothing happened at all. It's been the same, exhausting back and forth between two people who can't seem to figure themselves out. 

You don’t turn to face him, nor does he try to look you in the eyes as he leans forward in his seat, putting out the cigarette he’s been holding.

You run your hands down your face and shake your head. “I don’t want to do this right now, Javier,” you tell him, your voice softer than you want it to be. 

Several moments pass before Javier can find any words to say. “I know. I just—I’m...sorry. About the suspension,” he mutters, his voice rough and disconcerted. And everything else, too, he thinks to himself. “It’s fucked up,” he mutters under his breath. It's like you're both walking on eggshells, avoiding the bottom of the iceberg. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Not by my standards, anyways,” he continues.

You turn to face him, a hint of feigned amusement in your eyes. “Are you worried about me, Javier?” 

Javier feels his chest constrict, just for a second. “Me? Never,” he jests, and the air between you weighs a little bit less. You both let out a soft chuckle and turn to face the vast, open field in front of you again. You can't tell that there's a part of him that aches, despite his best attempts to suppress the feeling. You’d pushed him away, but he could never hold that against you. He’s not often alone, not when he doesn’t want to be, but that doesn’t make a person any less lonely. Some people deserve to be alone with their sins.

He keeps a good-sized distance from you on the bench, too far for his own liking but close enough that he has to physically resist the need to reach out to you. He doesn’t want to bring up last night any more than you do, but he hates that he hasn’t been able to think of anything else. It wasn’t until he’d left your apartment that he realized he was in deeper than he wanted to be.

“You know, I—” you start, clasping your hands together. You finally turn to him, and he mirrors you. “I could never stand the way you did things. But I...I want you to know that I get it now.”

Javier ponders on your words, but remains silent. After a moment, he sighs and nods. You fall silent as well, but the two of you exchange awkward glances, unsure of how to even address what happened last night. So you don’t.

“I know that this wouldn't be a big deal for you,” you add after a minute. “Really, it’s not a big deal to me either. It could be worse. I don’t know why…” But you know exactly what’s bothering you.

“Things will be back to normal soon enough,” Javier tells you. What if he doesn’t want them to be? You nod once, and Javier wishes he could believe the words himself.

With nothing else to say, you sit there quietly in each other’s presence for a few more minutes, neither of you in any hurry to go back in.

~

You open your eyes to a mostly dark room, vaguely aware of the cool surface of the pillow on your face as you roll over onto your side. You rub the sleep from your eyes and then your neck, which is stiff from a bad sleeping position. The streets of Colombia are still quiet outside, so all you hear is the humming of the AC in your bedroom. You’re barely conscious but you already wish your head was as silent as your surroundings. It’s funny how you’d grown used to sleeping in a bed that’s too big for one person, the space next to you cold and empty as it’s always been. You never really noticed it before. But for some reason you slept next to his warmth just once and now find yourself unable to handle the coldness anymore. 

It’s been a week since your encounter with the informant, and since your...situation with Javier. The plush padding of the mattress and rough covers do little to bring you comfort as you let out a quiet groan, shoving the blanket off yourself. With only a ringing silence to keep you company, you can’t help but think of yesterday night, when the man of the hour showed up unannounced and semi-inebriated at your door. You feel as though you could sink further into the bed and just disappear for a while, and honestly, you wouldn’t mind it.

~

“Javier?” You whisper, putting your gun back down on the shelf. “It’s almost one in the morning.” You’d answered the door cautiously after hearing three soft knocks, not expecting to find Javier standing there, leaning against the door frame.

“I...wanted to see you…” he mutters, and he hopes you don't catch the faint scent of alcohol. He doesn't know what made him turn the hallway to your door when he'd gotten home, but when you opened the door it was too late to change his mind.

“Are you drunk?” you ask, stepping forward to guide him back to his own place.

“Almost,” Javier answers with a tilt of the head. He's a little buzzed, but it's not enough. There's been a lot of 'almosts' lately. You. A partner he had no choice but to work with. Almost the most infuriating person he knew. Almost tolerable. Almost a friend. Almost… He's tired of almosts.

He observes silently as your eyes flick to the ground then back up to him, sensing your apprehension. "I'm...sorry," Javier stands up straighter. "I don't know what I…I'll leave if you want," he sputters, turning back toward his apartment. 

You stop him by gently touching his arm, sending a warmth into his chest that he blames on his currently hazy state of mind.

"No, you can come in, if you'd like...I should get some water in you, anyways" you tell him.

He drops his shoulders and slips his hands into his jean pockets, nodding. You open the door wider and gesture for him to enter, locking it behind him. He trods towards the living room and plops himself down on the sofa as you fetch him a glass of water before joining him. You're careful to leave a small space between you and him on the lumpy seat.

You watch as he takes a sip, waiting for him to say whatever he needs to.

The dim incandescent lighting draws attention to the ever-prominent dark circles under his eyes. It’s probably been a long time since the man’s had a decent sleep, not that the same struggle doesn’t follow you as well. "You look like shit, Javier," you comment playfully when he doesn't say anything. 

He scoffs, taking another sip of water and resisting the urge to light a cigarette right now.

“About the other night…” he starts, then trails off, unsure of where he’s going with this.

“We really don’t have to talk about it,” you tell him, gently. You reach out to touch his arm, but quickly take it back. Or maybe it’s you that doesn’t want to talk about it.

Javier notes the way you’re holding your arms close to yourself, rubbing your hands together nervously. An anxious tic you always resort back to. People don’t change, but his feelings about them might have.

“No, I—” he starts again. “I think you were right. We shouldn’t be doing any of this,” he goes on, his tone soft. He’s a goddamn liar, and he knows it. 

“But you’re here anyways,” you reply. It almost sounds like a question, the way you say it. “It was my fault for…”

“No,” he cuts you off. “You deserve better than someone like me.” 

“Don’t fucking say that, Javier,” you snap at him, sitting a bit straighter. 

“The things I’ve done…” he shakes his head, not meeting your eyes.

“We’ve both had to do a lot of questionable shit here,” you continue. “I’m sorry that I didn’t understand before. But I meant what I said the other day, about why you do things the way you do. I may not have agreed, but I understand now.”

Javier only looks at you, having nothing to say to that. “Sometimes I think we’re hurting ourselves more than anyone else,” you add, thinking out loud. “Besides...you’re not the only one with issues,” you muse. “Like you said to me once, we’re fucked up. Look at me, I don’t know how to not be alone…” you trail off, warmth rushing to your face as you hope that he won’t remember any of this in the morning. But that’s a false hope, and you know it.

Javier listens quietly, wondering at what point it was that he started to understand you, too. His mind might be foggy, but the alcohol seems to make other things clearer for him.

You’re not alone. “You have Murphy and me,” Javier shrugs. “Fuck those other assholes.”

"I'm not used to anyone needing me," you whisper.

"I need you," he admits before he realizes he's said it out loud. 

His breath hitches but he tries to play it off. "I mean, we—" He gestures with a hand but forgets he's holding the glass, so it falls onto the tile floor, both of you flinching when it shatters into many small fragments.

Javier swears, instinctively reaching down to pick up the pieces without thinking before you can stop him. One of the larger shards nicks his skin and he swears again as some blood starts to pool on his fingers.

"Fuck, Peña," you hiss, grabbing a cloth off the table and pressing it into the cut. You immediately become aware of his large, warm hand resting against your own.

Hurriedly dabbing at the broken skin until the bleeding slows, you look up to find that his eyes are on you and not his fresh cut. He looks at you like the blood on his hand is the last thing on his mind. Holding his gaze for a few moments, you swallow quietly and avert your eyes, gesturing for him to hold the cloth down with his free hand while you get up to go grab the first aid kit.

When you come back, Javier mutters something about being careful of the glass that’s still on the floor. 

“I’m not an idiot, Javier,” you tease.

He chuckles dryly, looking down at his hand as you sit back down and open the kit.

"Alright, let me see." You hold out your hand and he places his in yours as you remove the cloth to examine it. 

"Always so careful," you mutter as he flinches when you dab the spot with alcohol. You turn his hand over, checking for any pieces that might've gotten stuck.

Javier can't stop focusing on the way your soft hands feel on his rough, calloused ones. His head is throbbing, not only from the alcohol but also from a racing mind and a pulse that’s loudly pounding in his chest. You're about ten times gentler than he was when he'd insisted on changing his own dressing after the gunshot incident. Almost as gentle as you were the night you'd stayed with him in bed.

“Sometimes I’m glad I got shot,” Javier says suddenly, so quietly that for a second you think you misheard him. You finish up applying the bandage, peering at him curiously.

“Why’s that?” you humor him, hearing the slightly inebriated unsteadiness in his tone.

Javier feels his eyelids getting heavier, but his mind is still somewhat alert.

“You’re less infuriating now,” he mumbles, his words starting to blur together. You smirk at that, raising an eyebrow at him. It looks like you’re almost as reckless as he is now.

You don’t know how else to respond to that, so you ignore it.“There,” you say, letting go of his hand. “Just like new.”

Javier whispers a quiet thanks and rubs at the bandage, his mind a bit foggy as he looks at you. You look flustered, lost in some thought. It’s silent for long enough that the tension in the room becomes sharper than the shards of glass.

You nod once, brushing your hands together before standing. “Let me get all of this cleaned up,” you tell him as you take everything with you back to the kitchen.

You’re only mildly surprised when you return after a  few minutes to find Javier with his eyes shut on the couch, mouth slightly agape and his arms splayed out against his sides. You huff and shake your head in amusement, turning to grab the knitted blanket from the other sofa. You shake it out, gently placing it over him and tucking it over his shoulders. He shifts subconsciously, already fast asleep as you bend down to clean up the glass on the floor. Before switching off the lamp you smile softly at the sight of him. You could send him home, but this is probably your only chance at getting him to sleep. It’s rare that anyone gets to see a resting, relaxed Javier Peña, and this is probably as close as it gets.

Before you head back to your own room, you readjust the small pillow at his side, should he fall over to an uncomfortable angle overnight. You set a new glass of water on the coffee table and suddenly become aware of the feeling that your apartment feels less empty now, like the deafening silence that’s usually in your home has become replaced by something you never thought you’d find here. This feeling that's been in your chest this whole time, the one you've been trying so hard to push away, makes itself known every chance it gets.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you whisper, the admission barely loud enough for you to hear.

~

Everything that Javier’s ever done, he’s done by himself, if at all possible. And then he deals with the consequences alone. This has always been intentional—if the blood is on his hands alone, then only he can see the worst things in himself. No casualties except the good intentions that might’ve been there before.

The moving vehicle runs over a pothole in the road, the jolt bringing Javier back to the present assignment at hand. It’s just another run-of-the-mill one, some sketchy location to check out, but it feels like he’s been in this car for hours, trapped with no reprieve from his incessantly tireless mind. Trujillo navigates from the front seat while Murphy is seated next to him in the back, muttering something about his plans later this evening. The middle back seat is empty, sans-you, and Javier ruminates on how there was a time where he would’ve begged for such a situation. 

He and Murphy are pissed on your behalf, too, but it’s just a short term thing and they’ll have to make do with Trujillo until you’re back. He lets out a quiet huff and Murphy looks at him, brows raised with a knowing expression. Javier shakes his head, brushing him off, and stares back out the window. Even with the AC on blast in the car, there’s no escape from the heat of the afternoon sun. He swipes at the beads of sweat on his forehead, impatiently waiting for this assignment to be over with. 

“Ay, Peña, why so glum?” Trujillo jeers from the front. “At least it wasn’t your ass on the line, for once,” he remarks.

Javier and Steve’s heads both snap up. “Fuck off, Trujillo,” Javier shoots him down, wiping the grin off his face. 

A wave of guilt suddenly floods through him. He’d inadvertently put you in danger multiple times, and now your job had been compromised, too. Maybe the latter wasn’t entirely his fault, but when he found you with the informant and saw the look in your eyes, he recognized it as something he often saw in the mirror. And you deserve better than to sleep with the monsters in his bed. 

He’d known exactly what you were doing when you’d pushed him away, but he still let you do it, for everyone’s best interest. Still, there’s a small part of him that didn’t want you to. Javier is far from deserving to have something like that, something good, where the demons might quiet down just a bit. But it’s a calming thought nonetheless.

After his semi-drunken talk with you the other night, he’d held on to a small fragment of hope that you might change your mind about everything. He remembers the conversation vividly, especially the parts of him that had been made bolder by the liquor. 

Murphy casts a glance at him again, probably wondering what the fuck has been wrong with him. Javier doesn’t know himself. Somewhere between getting shot and now, something’s been different for him. He’s always been cautious to let anyone in for too long; his home has always been a dark place with room for just one. He never thought you’d be the one to sneak up on him like this. 

Right from the beginning you’d wanted nothing to do with each other, which, considering how much he couldn’t stand you anyways, he had been perfectly content on keeping it this way. 

Even from your first day as partners, you'd clashed with each other on just about everything. Things were kept professional, of course, but there wasn't much beyond mere civility. Going off the fact that you were nothing like him, Javier kept a distance. One less thing to stress about. He nearly laughs at the irony of it now.

Javier knows he’s still the same man as he was back then. People rarely change. But one infuriating, stubborn person might have helped him see a different side of things. He’s hardly ever thought of himself as a good man, but when he’s around you, he starts to let himself believe it.

He’s a man who can find company if he wants it. Someone to let off steam with and then move on from, left alone with himself. But for the first time in a long time, he doesn’t want to be anymore. Javier’s spent many nights lying in a newly-empty bed, playing with the idea of not facing the darkness alone. Of having someone’s warm presence next to him under the covers of a heavy night. Until lately, he hadn’t realized that it’s not just anyone he wants by his side in that cold, vacant space, but you.

~

It’s been another long, tedious day at work, so you’re eager to finally get in your car and make your way home. You’re one of the last to leave the office, as usual, even if you don’t have any need to stay after-hours. 

It’s not as hot this evening, but the forecast said there would be rain later tonight so the air is still disgustingly humid, the moisture sticking to you as soon as you step outside the embassy. The clouds have already started coming in, so the sky is a dark grey smearing of hues. Your shoes clack on the concrete on your way to the car, but your heels don’t ache the way they do when you’ve been out in the field. As strange as it is, you don’t mind the way your body aches after a productive day, so you miss it. Your muscles are tense, but it’s not from being at your desk all day. You slam the car door shut behind you, noting the circles under your eyes in the mirror before sighing and starting the engine.

When you finally make it back to your apartment complex, you decide that you don’t want to go inside just yet. The frustration has long since left you, but now you’re just...exhausted, from more than one thing. You need somewhere to just breathe, and start walking towards the small park next to the apartments. You don’t mind the fact that the storm clouds are getting darker, a small rumble of thunder sounding off in the distance. You round the corner and step off the concrete path towards a grassy area with some park benches. There aren’t many trees here and there isn’t much to look at, but it’s a nice place to sit and think, so it’ll do. It’s here that you allow yourself to completely immerse yourself in everything that’s been on your mind. 

You’ve always weathered things on your own, especially here. There’s too much risky business that goes on for you to complicate things by involving anyone else. The more blood and damage you see, the more you’ve been able to convince yourself that your decisions were for the best. You never expected this to be complicated by one Javier Peña. You’ve been doing your best to ignore your feelings, but sometimes that’s more exhausting than facing them headfirst. There’s been many nights where you’ve had your emotions gutted raw by the things you’ve seen and done, but it’s never occurred to you that you’re not only one who’s carried it alone. Not until recently, anyways. 

Javier has always been one to not let anyone in. You’d never considered that he’s a lot like you. He’s reckless about his ways, albeit passionate. You’ve always thought of yourself as hesitant; reserved until you can think things through. But you’ve kept people away, too, and maybe that’s been reckless in itself. It’s hard to keep people close when you live a life like this one. But it’s been a while now that you’ve known you wanted more, that it wouldn't be anymore dangerous than what you already do. You can only hope that you haven’t fucked things up permanently with him.

You fidget with the buttons on your cardigan, unclasping then clasping them, just about ready to head home, when a loud crack of thunder interrupts your thoughts, sending with it the onset of the rainfall. With no cover, you ought to run back, but you opt to stay put instead of running from the storm. The rain starts to pour, slowly, until it becomes a steady downfall. You feel it soak your hair first, then your shoulders as the cold wetness absorbs into the fabric of every layer of the rest of your clothes, leaving goosebumps in its wake. It drips down and covers your eyelashes and you have to blink them away in order to see. You don’t know how long you’re there for, but the rain continues to fall gently and you close your eyes, savoring the nice change of weather as it coats your hair and skin. 

After a while longer, you feel the pouring stop and open your eyes, expecting to find a calmer sky. Instead, you find Javier standing over you, holding an umbrella that’s barely big enough to cover you both. 

The expression on his face is unreadable, but he takes a seat next to you, not leaving any space in between your bodies this time, the warmth of his skin calming against your own. He holds the umbrella in one hand, the other brushing the curls out of his face as he meets your eyes, a barely-there but reassuring smile on his lips. 

Something about this moment makes you feel all the more vulnerable; exposed. Still, you know that you're safe, at least in this very moment. You give him a tiny smile in return, holding back a shiver. Explanations don’t seem to be needed as you sit silently, only paying attention to the rain falling into puddles in front of you and the way you’re tucked neatly against him, both of you devoid of any tension for the first time in a while.

Wordlessly, you lean onto his shoulder, resting your head on him. Not a single word is spoken, but nothing has to be said when you both already know. The rain continues to hit the umbrella with soft patters above you. You stay like that for a while, simply existing in each other’s presence, until Javier softly nudges you. 

“Come on, let’s get you inside,” he tells you. You nod and follow as he walks with you back to the complex, arm-to-arm but not touching otherwise. Once you get to cover, he shakes out the umbrella before closing it, along with some of the water droplets that landed in his now-messy hair.

You’re cold as soon as you step inside, the air chilling your wet clothes and hair. Both of your shoes squeak as you make your way down the hallway. He stops when you approach his door, which is closer to the entrance than your own.

“Do you want to come in?” he murmurs softly. It's not often that you find Javier Peña unsure of himself, but his voice is telling. You think on it for a moment, but it’s without hesitation when you nod again.

He unlocks the door and you follow him in, shrugging off your damp cardigan. He tosses the keys on the counter and turns on the lamp, then looks you up and down. You’re soaked from head to toe, with your hair plastered to your skin.

“Stay there, I’ll be right back,” he says, quickly walking to his room. You walk over to the living room and shuffle on your heels as you wait for him to return.

When he reappears he’s already changed into a dry shirt, and comes over to you with a thick towel in hand. You hold out your hand for it but he ignores the motion, moving closer as he delicately wraps the towel around your head, gently dabbing the dampness out of your hair. He keeps his eyes on you the whole time, looking at you with an intensity you haven’t seen from him before, not even the last time you’d been this close to him. Delicately, he pats the towel along your face and neck, wiping away the rest of the droplets of rain. You feel your breaths getting shaky but you don’t look away. His lips are slightly parted as he removes the towel, tossing it aside without breaking eye contact and stepping closer, with a hint of hesitation. He’s inches away, holding himself carefully in front of you, close enough for you to feel his warm breaths on your cheeks.

There’s a mutual understanding as he glances down at your lips then back up to your eyes, and Javier softly places an arm around your waist, pulling you in against him and closing the space between your bodies as you set a hand on his chest. It may be in your imagination, but you can feel his heart pounding, too. His other hand hovers timidly over your cheek before moving to rest on the space beneath your jaw as he leans in even closer, still looking into your eyes as your own heart threatens to race out of your chest. 

Practically the only things not touching are your lips, his and your patience both wearing thin until there’s none left.

“You alright?” he asks quietly, running the pad of his thumb over your cheek.

“Yeah,” you whisper in response, nearly breathless.

You hear him swallow before he gently presses his forehead to yours, his eyes half-closed. “You’re not going to run away again, are you?” Javier teases, but his voice is hoarse, the words cracking a little as they leave his lips. You can’t think straight, simply shaking your head and letting out a quiet chuckle.

Every time this has happened before, you’ve felt the heated, maddening desperation in the room. But when Javier finally presses his lips to yours, it's just one small kiss at first, then a pause, before he kisses you again, softly and carefully, more than you’d ever thought was possible for him. His lips are warm against your own, which are still cold from the rain. He keeps a hand resting along your back, holding you flush against him as you feel him relax fully into you. You run your hand through the curls of his hair, his breath warm on your tongue as his lips move against yours. 

He moves his hand from your face, breaking the kiss with a smirk on his face. His breathing is quickened, both of you left winded. Your knees have gone weak; you hardly know how you’re still able to stand.

“You know, the bosses wouldn’t like this, but I guess you don’t mind—” he chuckles as you grip his shirt tighter, pulling him closer to you.

“Shut up, Peña, I—” his lips crash back onto yours before you can finish the sentence. He kisses you fervently, all-consumingly, but he’s far from being rough. Javier doesn’t like to take his time with anything, but when your whole body is curved against his like this, he wants all the time in the world.

The soft kisses become slower until you finally break away from each other, try to steady yourselves. Javier places one last kiss to your lips before resting his forehead on yours again. His eyes remain closed as you reach up and tenderly stroke his cheek with your thumb, feeling the way his jaw is completely relaxed.

He finally opens his eyes, trailing the backs of his fingers down your cheek to your jaw. “Will you stay tonight?” he asks, still catching his breath.

"If you can manage not to injure yourself this time," you mutter playfully.

Javier chuckles, gently pressing his lips to your forehead.

"You are infuriating, agent," he whispers, keeping himself close to you.

"So are you," you tell him, a smile on your lips.

Javier rests his forehead against yours, moving his hand back to your cheek. 

For the first time in a long time, Javier knows he’ll rest through the night.

~

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[plounce]

what if gay CATS........... were gay PERSONS

(info on this au under the cut)

theyre all shitty young adults just kind of. getting through their early 20s as best they can. or as much as they can. maybe things will get better someday, but right now they’re kind of spinning their wheels

magic exists but like eh it’s not a big thing don’t worry about it. it’s around but like whatever. not many people have it and it’s mostly just like. a curiosity or a party trick

demeter and bombularina are together, tugger and mistoffelees are together, bombularina and tugger occasionally fwb, it’s cool and aboveboard and it’s all fine

demeter:

bisexual with a preference for women. 24 years old

semi-psychic (not as powerful as tantomile or coricopat). tends to have vague and confusing prophetic dreams

dropped out of grad school for sociology due to trauma and ensuing intensified mental illness. kind of bitter about it, but tries to get through every day. general anxiety disorder even before all that

very nervous around most men she doesn’t know & trust

currently working at a barnes & noble starbucks, which sucks. she recently became the assistant manager, which turbo sucks because now she has more work for only like a buck raise, but at least she’s getting reliable shifts

her go-to therapy is cutting her hair with scissors. her hair is fried to all hell from regular bleaching

she’s learning how to crochet because she’s decided she needs to do something physically productively creative with her hands to distract herself from Stuff

bombalurina:

bisexual. 24 years old

got her bachelor’s in english two years ago and hasn’t found a job in her field and has kind of given up on it for now

she’s been bartending for like four years, does freelance editing work on the side. will occasionally write listicles for clickbait sites if she needs extra cash

literally any extra money she can save goes to tattoos. her right sleeve’s almost done

has natural red hair but dyes it cherry red

a hedonist to cope but is also just a natural hedonist. likes a good bath

i know that like the typical thing fandoms say about female characters is “doesn’t take shit” for the girlboss points but she truly does not take shit anymore. she used to take people’s shit sometimes but at this point in her life she’s tired and she has a girlfriend to be protective of. she has a couple people whose shit she will take (mostly just tugger) but besides them (and having to practice basic customer service to keep her job) she’s tired of other people’s shit! enough!

my personal take on bombalurina is a mix between the riot grrrls of the 90s and 80s punk girls, and then a dash of the greaser chicks from grease. i saw that spiked collar and my brain went OH okay i can run with this somewhere fun. same for demeter, but less so - she just has the piercings.

demelurina:

bombalurina met demeter in college at a women’s activism club, noticed her because of her dimple piercings and was like “oh someone else with a lot of metal in her face, i’ll sit next to her”

they were each other’s first off-campus roommates and were close friends. made out a couple times, but it was mostly a lot of sexual tension. there was a lot of bombalurina staring at demeter while she or demeter made out with someone else

demeter was on and off with her high school boyfriend munkustrap and bombalurina was like “oh he’s so much more stable/calm than me and she needs that, i party a bit too much for her, i shouldn’t try anything” so she just sort of. lets their almost-there peter off

(this is all bombalurina’s internal thoughts - demeter always was interested in her, but thought she was too boring for bombalurina. so neither of them thought they could pursue it)

bombalurina graduated and moved somewhere cheaper further away from campus. they kind of drift apart

munkustrap and demeter peter off and he moves away for a job (they’re still good friends, it was a very amicable breakup) and then demeter gets with macavity, which is a deeply toxic situation for her and sucks hugely and throws her whole life really off track. won’t go into further details

she finally manages to break up with him and calls bombalurina at like 2 am asking if she can pick her up, and also if she can sleep on her couch, it’s okay if that’s not okay, she just. really needs a place she feels safe, and her gut is telling her to. and of course bombalurina says yes

bombalurina also knew macavity and had also made out a couple times with him at like parties and stuff (see: staring at demeter as she makes out with people). something about transference of feelings - bombalurina was into him for a couple moments because he and demeter had a thing.

this is due to me interpreting the song “macavity” as actually about bombalurina wanting to fuck demeter and her singing as a half-repressed expression of that. i use my really good wlw brain to reach that conclusion. it’s kind of a non-competitive version of eve sedgwick’s take on the love triangle. (<-- normal thing to say)

but anyway demeter stays on bombalurina’s couch and she tries so hard to stay on track but eventually she just has to drop out. bombalurina helps her with that too. she’s just really supportive even as demeter’s life is at its lowest point. when she gets home from bartending she gets demeter to go to sleep

she just Stays with her and makes her smile and reminds her that her life isn’t over, there’s still things in her day to enjoy, to keep her trudging forward

bombalurina is roommates with tugger at this point - he also recently dropped out and demeter knows him because he’s munkustrap’s brother, so he’s Trusted and also is like “hey it’s okay that you dropped out, im here and im chilling and you like me and respect me at least a little, and you have a bachelor’s degree at least!” (more on him later)

demeter is like “oh god ive been crashing at their place for so long not paying rent, theyre gonna ask me to leave, im such a freeloader, they wont take my attempts at paying rent” but then bombalurina and tugger are like “hey! the lease is almost up! we found a pretty good 3 bedroom, do you wanna have your own room for real?” and she nearly cries because 1. the RELIEF 2. oh my god you want me around???

cut to bombalurina helping demeter put together an ikea dresser (tugger got banished to the kitchen to make crystal light lemonade for them because he’s useless with a screwdriver) and demeter has two epiphanies:

1. i thought i was ready to d*e four months ago and here i am making a dresser to put clothes into in my new apartment where i live and feel safe and loved. im still not happy but im still alive and im making a dresser

2. holy fuck im back in love with my best friend, and ten times more than i was back then.

so she like kind of freaks out because she’s already imposed so much on bombalurina, how could she impose her FEELINGS on her like this, oh no oh no oh no

meanwhile bombalurina’s back in love with her even MORE and she’s also like no... she’s already dealing with so much... i don’t want to make her uncomfortable or feel unsafe in her own home especially after her recent relationship trauma... i just want her to feel safe around me...

you might think tugger as their roommate would be like “JUST KISS” but he is in fact pretty oblivious because he is self-absorbed. mistoffelees on the other hand..

eventually they do have a big confession of feelings after demeter has a bad day and it’s very dramatic and they make out in the rain. and it’s like. well this is a movie scene. but also im cold and damp. let’s head inside our home and get warm and dry :)

and then they go inside and and talk through everything, all their feelings (not just their romantic feelings but like ALL their feelings) and their shared histories and bombalurina is like “do you think you’re... ready for a relationship right now? like that would be a good thing for you?”

and demeter considers it. she does stop and think. and then she says, “with anyone else... probably not. but it’s you. and i feel so safe around you, and we’re already so close. you make the future feel more worth it. you make more days alive feel not just tolerable, but something to look forward to. and knowing you’ve loved me all this time... it’s nice. it’s good. i’m - i’m understating it so much, it’s more than nice, it’s just - it’s a lot. i wish i had noticed back then.” “hey, hey, don’t blame yourself. i’m the one who never said anything.”

anyway. everything works out, and they start dating for real :)

tugger:

bisexual. 22 years old

dishwasher at the same bar bombalurina works at. she got him the job. he keeps bugging her to teach him bartending tricks and on slow nights she will agree to

he dropped out of their four year, but he managed to secure an associate’s in communications before he dipped

trying to be an ig influencer hotboy and hopefully get modeling jobs from that but his phone’s camera sucks shit so his account isn’t really going anywhere. but he continues to post his low resolution shirtless selfies

trying to cope with being the failure son who does not have a fancy nonprofit job with a salary and healthcare by being self-absorbed and self-aggrandizing

it works about 60% of the time and 60% of the times that it doesn’t he’s able to hide it

he dropped out right around when bombalurina graduated and he was like HEY! ARE YOU LOOKING FOR A ROOMMATE WHO DOESN’T CARE IF WE LIVE TEN MILES AWAY FROM CAMPUS? WELL HAVE I GOT A SOLUTION FOR YOU: ME!

to which bombalurina (who has fooled around with him here and there and thinks he is funny little man and genuinely goodhearted, and also he has rockin abs as a plus) says munkustrap already asked me if i need a roommate and if i do to consider you, because you don’t want to move back home. in other words: yes, you little idiot

they do fool around with each other but they are both very understanding that it is strictly platonic and for fun, especially once they become roommates. they both do not desire each other for anything serious

he did have a bit of a crush on each other when they met (hot punk older girl who’s friends with his brother) but 1. it dissipated pretty quick after they fooled around for the first time because it was not a very serious crush 2. she was in the middle of being in love with demeter so she was focused on that, emotionally

he got his ears pierced a couple times in high school but bombalurina inspired him to get a couple more. she went with him when he got his nose pierced

demeter has always understood that him and bombalurina are strictly fwb, has never been an issue.

she and him like to bleach their hair together when their hair schedules line up (he bleaches his way less often then she does), but she refuses to use his fancy conditioner that keeps his hair unfried because it’s expensive, even though he tells her to go ahead and use it, please, the health of her hair is giving HIM anxiety, demeter please. please demeter

mistoffelees:

gay. 20 years old

has magic. it’s pretty good magic but again: magic is not a big deal in this concept

a bit spooky. skulks around. a bit of a bitch but also very very nice. chooses when to speak

he has postings on craigslist and fiverr about finding lost objects and people with magic. like a gig economy private detective

side job is a waiter at a fancy restaurant

sometimes he gets paid VERY well from the private detecting, depending on the client. he does ask his psychic friends (tantomile & coricopat) to give a quick glance over on some of the more suspicious clients just to make sure he isn’t finding someone who should not be found by that person.

doesn’t go to college. is roommates with his sister victoria, who’s a freshman and studying dance. moved into town with her so she wouldn’t have to live in the dorms by having a guaranteed roommate.

tuggoffelees:

the general vibe i want for these two is mistoffelees walking around town or driving around in his shitty toyota camry while tugger tags along because he’s bored and thinks this is cool as shit

the general tone of the au is “magic isn’t a big deal” except for tugger, who thinks mistoffelees’ magic and his magic freelancing is the coolest shit ever. this is mostly because he just likes mistoffelees. “there are people who can do cooler shit than me, tug” “yeah but i don’t KNOW them also theyre not as COOL as you” “you had to explain to me how instagram reels work”

idk how they met i just think tugger shows up at his and bombalurina’s apartment one day (this is when demeter has moved in but they havent moved to the 3br yet) with this dude to dash in and pick something up and bombalurina is like “uh. who’s this” “oh this is mistoffelees he’s SO GOOD AT MAGIC” [mistoffelees nods hello] “okay bye bombalurina see you at work!!!” “uh. later”

after that he just shows up a lot. sort of ambiguous if theyre dating or what for a while before bombalurina straight up asks like “hey does the dude you’re dating know we fool around” “the dude im - what?” “... the little magic guy who keeps using our hot cocoa mix. misty.” “oh. uh. we aren’t dating.” “... do you want to? because you’re kind of all over him constantly” “um. well! haha, if i wanted to, i could! haha!” “yeah get back to me on that”

tugger trying to use his ig clout to get mistoffelees more work even though 1. he has no clout 2. mistoffelees has a very stable client base. but mistoffelees appreciates the effort. the self-promo guy promoing someone other than himself... the highest expression of love...

mistoffelees is A Nonthreatening Man plus he’s pretty obviously gay so demeter is chill around him pretty quickly. when mistoffelees is over they’ll sit on the couch where demeter sleeps and watch documentaries quietly while she crochets

they both occasionally say spooky shit at the same time because magic stuff. bombalurina and tugger are both torn between “that was cool as fuck” and “god that’s unnerving”

just a lot of tugger following mistoffelees around on his jobs and mistoffelees letting him because he’s fond of him and them occasionally getting into minor peril and interesting shenanigans, but it is 90% fetch quests

i think the first time they met tugger was taking selfies in front of a hydrangea in a public park and he saw mistoffelees walk up with a shovel and start digging in one of the flower beds and he thought he was hot so he went over and offered to take over on the shoveling to look strong and masculine and he ended up digging up a skull, which mistoffelees picked up and said “thanks” and then walked away

mildly terrifying but also very interesting and tugger’s days are kind of boring and dishwashing kind of sucks as a job to do like every night and he is a person who thrives on novelty so. moth to a porchlight

i think they do start making out for fun here and there and then a while later theyre out on one of mistoffelees’ jobs and someone asks “who’s the guy with you” and mistoffelees replies “oh that’s my boyfriend, don’t worry about him” and then it’s like. “HUH? I’M YOUR BOYFRIEND?” “uh. yeah? i assumed. is that okay?” “i mean yeah of course i think you’re great! how long have we–” “oh like a while.” “oh. uh. cool!!”

they just hang out a lot. mistoffelees enjoys teasing him and enjoys his warmth and bombasticity and tugger likes watching and helping him solve little mysteries around the county because it’s always something new. they’re kind of a comedy duo. they just enjoy spending their time together and following mistoffelee’s internal magic gps to find lost dogs and lost necklaces

yeah right now this au is just vibes and just sort of. continuing forward with your days and your weeks and your months. just young adults hanging out

[wistfulwatcher]

Hello I saw your tag on that "im 25 and dying post" please tell us how it got better for you. Im 26, still living with parents, currently having a fight with my boyfriend, and i still have a year until I get my bachelors. The comparison to everyone younger than me is killing me.

I'm really sorry to hear that you're struggling, but I hope you can take some solace in the fact that that post has a lot of notes and you are absolutely not alone in feeling the way you do! I can certainly try and share my experience, but unfortunately I think the biggest factor is just time (and like, a buttload of self-reflection).

I moved back home after college and worked full time at an administrative job I was doing during school breaks. I majored in psychology and anthropology in college, and was planning to eventually go into forensic psychology, but wasn't interested in going straight into grad school. So I did that administrative job for about a year, and tried to find something that was a bit more stable and at least semi-related to my field. I did end up finding a new job when I was 23 - stable, semi-related to my field (a psych/research background was required), and decent pay (especially as I was still living at home). Exactly what I needed, since I still wasn't ready to start looking into grad school.

I was doing pretty well, until I started getting comfortable at that job, and then I started getting hit with the "I'm not doing enough," and "I need to look into grad school," and "will I ever find a boyfriend?" (friendly reminder that 23-year-old me thought she was straight, yikes), "how will I afford to move out, I have to save my money and do it soon!", "I'm not doing anything but watching TV, I'm wasting my life," "I'm lonely, but I'm too tired to try and make friends," etc., etc.

But it wasn't constant. I'd have a flurry of those questions and fears, and then days where I was just living life and doing my job and taking care of my dogs, without any of that. And I don't think I felt good or particularly comfortable those days, it was more like I just wasn't actively thinking about it, like when you feel "good" after a physical pain goes away and you're just normal.

Eventually, I started thinking about all of these concerns I had, and the fact that it felt like it was URGENT whenever I thought about them. It felt like I needed to get my shit together immediately. I also started to acknowledge that there was this big sense of guilt around those concerns; I was too old to be living at home, I was too old to be single, I was too old not to be starting a career. I felt like I was wasting my life (cue the guilt), and I realized that part of why I felt like I was wasting it was that I felt like I was missing milestones I wouldn't be able to do at a later time because the older I was past "normal" the more humiliating it would be to try (cue the shame and embarrassment, hard).

I also started to doubt that I wanted to go into forensic psychology. More importantly, I started to seriously doubt that I wanted a "career" at all. My job (as I kept that same semi-related to my field one) was absolutely a job, not a career. And I think this was a huge tipping point for me, because a career had always been a given in my life. I'm passionate about what I'm interested in, so it literally just never occurred to me that I would be content with a job. I also started acknowledging that I had some messed up associations about being content with a job meaning that I was lazy (because the only way to be ambitious is with a career and, more damaging, a lack of ambition is fundamentally bad).

Now, I need to clarify that all of the above occurred over the course of years. I was constantly seeing "friends" (i.e., of the facebook variety) go to grad school, start careers, get married, buy homes, etc. And with all of that alongside the entire mess I've outlined in the above paragraphs, it was really, really, tough. It gets hard to find a foothold in better thinking, I believe, when seeing all of these people (some younger) doing things "right" was really just compounding my guilt and shame. (I feel like it's worth mentioning, too, that I was always "an individual" growing up, march-to-the-beat-of-my-own-drummer, yada yada. I feel like that's worth pointing out for others who may be in the same boat, because I think it can lead to another layer of shame in comparing yourself to those around you - especially if it's a big part of your identity that you DON'T do that, because I think it's inevitable as you get older, and you're looking to reach these milestones that prove you're an adult.)

So, here I am, acknowledging that I feel guilt and shame about what I'm not doing. And suddenly I ask myself my first really important question: Do I want a career? The question hot on its heels is: Do I want to go to grad school? Honestly, my answer is no. There is nothing in me that's excited by the prospect. But what, does that mean I'm just going to work my job for the rest of my life? How is giving up going to make me feel better about Not Doing Enough?

As I'm opening this door (remember, years), three things happen: 1) I realize I'm gay, 2) I watch Dirty 30, 3) I start playing D&D.

First, realizing I'm gay. Woohoo! Not only was this exciting because girls are amazing, but it made me seriously look at myself. Realizing I had spent 25 years assuming one thing about myself that turned out to be completely wrong made me question everything for a while. I started to ask myself, "Do I really like this?" more often, which seems like a really obvious question, but I'm not convinced that it's one people ask themselves consciously all that often. But once I did, I realized how freeing it was to answer, "No," and move on to something I did like.

Second, I watched Dirty 30, the Grace Helbig/Mamrie Hart/Hannah Hart movie. It feels dramatic to say that it changed my life, but the older I get the more I honestly think it did. Mamrie Hart's character is a dental hygienist who is freaking out about turning 30 and feeling very much like that text post I reblogged. But (spoilers), at the end of the movie, she decides that she loves her job (job, not career!) because it's comfortable and she has fun at work, and that it makes her happy. She has other things going on, but the idea that a character in a film is content with her job and choosing to "settle" into her life as-is and she's genuinely happy about it? I honestly can't think of a single other time I've seen that happen on-screen. I still think about that ending very often. And after seeing it, I started to ask myself another question regularly: "Am I happy?" Again, this feels pretty obvious, but I think there is something incredibly empowering about making sure you are happy on a regular basis, instead of just assuming that you're fine until something hurts.

Third, I started playing D&D. This is not a plug for D&D! (Well, maybe a little.) One thing that happened to me when I started to get into the urgent-guilt-shame-confusion mess of my mid-20s was that I got very much into a routine of go to work, come home, sleep, go to work, come home, sleep, be totally brain-dead on the weekend, repeat. I found it very difficult to feel creative because I was just wiped, and as all of my creative outlets (gifs, fanfic) are self-motivated, it was really easy to brush them off. I ended up starting Critical Role (this is also not a plug for CR! well, maybe), and I wanted to give D&D a try myself. (I was VERY lucky - my best friend happened to be listening to the Adventure Zone at the same time I started CR, and she wanted to try to run a game. The stars truly aligned!)

I started playing, then DMing, and found that it was a great fit for my interests. I used to be a theatre kid, and I was getting to act again (something I didn't realize I was missing). I was getting to build and flesh out characters, which is what I love the most about writing fanfic. I was also discovering that I was stretching myself - world building and plot had never been my strong suit, but as a DM it became the majority of my creative effort. It gave me soft deadlines with people I didn't want to let down, and it made me truly social again for the first time since college. Essentially, it was filling in all of the gaps of what I felt lacking in my life. This isn't a D&D plug because it wasn't D&D specifically, but rather a hobby that satisfied what was missing in my life. For example, I didn't realize how isolated I was before D&D until I had regular interactions with friends, and that isolation absolutely made the urgent-guilt-shame-confusion worse.

D&D gave me that final push to realize that I was OK with having a job and being passionate about hobbies instead of trying to fit myself into a career, because I was getting out of that hobby what I had been convinced I would get out of a career. I started to really value that I could punch out and go have fun doing exactly what I wanted to do. (It feels so obvious as I type this, but it took me a long time to get here! Sometimes it really is that simple!)

The above is specific to my job vs. career struggle which may not be in the mix of things you're struggling with. But what I do think is universal/can be your take away, is that sometimes you just have to actively choose to let go of the pressure to be doing things. Which, I know, sounds so much easier than it is (and part of why I think it just takes time/is part of growing older). But I think it's something that can be worked at over time, by checking in with yourself about what you feel, why you feel it, and what you need to make yourself feel better in the present.

It's been 6 years since I started that semi-related job, and I'm still there. I still live with my mom. I'm still single. My circumstances have not changed since 24, but honestly? I'm OK. When I check in with myself about it, I do enjoy living with my mom and our dogs (even though I'm 30 and "real" adults move out). I am happy more often than I'm not (much more, actually!). I have a job that allows me to be done after 8 hours, and I have hobbies I look forward to doing each night (and the energy to do them, most of the time). My weekends are free to play D&D with my friends and laugh until I cry. That is what I've worked out as my definition of what I want life to be right now. You'll notice it includes none of the "milestones" that those younger than me have hit.

As I noted on that text post tag, I still struggle with this. I definitely have days where I think, I'm a mess, I'm not DOING anything. It's hard. But time does help, those days become fewer and farther between.

I know that was probably a hundred times longer than you wanted it to be, but I did want to illustrate just how much of a process it is. It takes time. My summary advice is to check in with yourself often, be honest about what you want and what you need, do not let anyone else define where you "should" be. And if you aren't living life how you want to be, identify what you can do (however small) to make yourself feel like you're getting closer.

[bookersebastien]

since I love your headcanons/meta (if you're up to it) can I have your thoughts on the guard + fashion

andy

Andy probably has a pretty complicated relationship with fashion, like i think she does with most things in the modern world given the fact that it’s only a tiny spec of her lifetime

She’s spent her life watching thousands upon thousands of fashion trends come and go and was alive during the creation of many fabrics themselves

She’s been a warrior her entire life, we may not know the manner of her first death (or at least not from the movies) but we know she’s spent most of her life as an immortal fighting, both before and after she met quynh

Fashion for her was always at the very least comfortable and flexible, something she could travel and fight in without a moment’s notice

But to some extent how she looks, her image is a very important aspect of her, especially in the earlier part of her life

She was a famed fighter for so long, earning her name “fighter of man”, there were probably stories told of her and quynh, warrior women who no one can defeat, her clothing at that time at least semi reflected that, she wanted to be seen as “unbreakable” as she says in the movie

She had probably minimal armor, after all she doesn’t need it technically and would only prefer it to have less healing time if she took on less damage, but her clothing showed exactly who she was, every bit the warrior

As practical as she is, who she appears to be is still probably very much still tied to her identity, she may not be known anymore and doesn’t even want to be for the sake of their safety but her clothes are not just strictly practical, rather than be the warrior of myth she has now become a warrior of the modern age, a warrior of the shadows

Her clothes still reflect her younger self, the famed warrior, just scaled back and modernized. She wears calf-high boots, arm braces and fitted clothing in all black  she cuts quite and imposing figure and that’s what i think she wants. She doesn’t necessarily use it to intimidate others, as her younger self may have done, this time her clothing is now to make her still feel powerful, a reflection of who she is now: skilled and deadly, ready at a moments notice to protect those she loves

While jeans and a tank top is a perfectly normal outfit, with the boots and braces you’d do a double take, wondering who she was, but it’s meant to blend in just enough but if you look closely enough at how tight the boots are laced and her posture, tank top carefully tucked in you’d start to wonder

I think she does actually like fashion, she’s seen so much of it and she probably sees things that remind her of something she saw hundreds of years ago, like seeing trends pop up again and it fills her with nostalgia. It reminds her of when she was in love with humanity, loved seeing what people created and invented and when she truly believed in their cause

But things definitely changed after quynh was thrown in the ocean, just had a less of desire and the clothes probably reminded her of quynh, what’d she’d wear and what she’d get for andy to wear and as modern times came around she stuck to stuff that was more practical, still a little fashionable, but stuff that could be worn doing anything from sleeping to fighting

I think her clothing in the movie, mostly black, reflects who she is as this time: a powerful and strong warrior who’s also afraid, she’s afraid that she spent her life fighting for something that doesn’t matter but also (pre-nile) afraid of what she’s going to do now that she said the world could burn - what does a 6,000+ immortal warrior do then?

booker

Booker is not unfashionable, and while his relatively apathetic and cynical nature might make you think fashion isn’t something he would care about, i think he does

He isn’t like joe who would go the extra step to make an outfit more aesthetically pleasing, but also he isn’t as super practical as nicky (he keeps his gun in his pants for fuck’s sake)

Booker is tired and wants to feel normal, to feel his humanity that he feels is slipping away from him even though it’s already been 200 years - he’s still adjusting and that’s because he never wanted this and still doesn’t completely accept this is his life now (hence at least a partial reason for his betrayal)

But i don’t booker is one to make too much of a fuss about what he’s wearing, he wants simple clothing that won’t make him look out of place, especially since he was the one who met with copley for that previous mission maybe he is the one who scouts missions as their seemingly resident computer person

So he goes for what a lot of people do: classic pieces of clothing in selection of relatively neutral colors that all work together. In their life it’s important to have clothes at the ready, both in their bags and at their safehouses and i’d bet at least most of his stuff would work together with no issues

Aside from the tac outfit of course, he mainly wears an assortment of jeans, boots, button downs and leather jackets in mostly blacks and grays with a couple faded blues and greens - any of these can be thrown on without an issue, it looks like a complete outfit and nothing about how he’s dressed is any way going to attrract attention

Plus this man doesn’t care enough about himself to make him look good rather than just being fine with what he has, he wants to die and doesn’t allow himself to feel the love he has from his family, dressing up to him isn’t going to add anything or make anything better

So in the sequel i’d love to see him deal with his pain and his betrayal head on and who knows maybe joe will buy him some zipper pants too and maybe booker will actually like them

nicky

Nicky is the other more practical one other than andy, but he lacks her attempt at keeping at appearances/empowerment

The majority of movies he’s wearing plain t-shirts and regular jeans with dad jackets, the only slightly impractical fashion choice being his hoodie from the tac outfit, which it does cover him up completely and allows him to cover his face more if needed but also it’s hot (i also like that post comparing the hoodie to the crusader’s chainmail helmet)

But nicky in essence is practical, he’s the protector of the group, always watching and always on the edges, he doesn’t care much i think for what he wears as long as it allows him to do his job

Yes of course he participated in fashions over the years, and will wear things joe picks out for him and occasionally what he picks out for himself, but that stuff is not for when there is a mission, not when people need help

But i think he usually gravitates towards simple like andy, something to run and fight in but he lacks andy’s past of fame, reverence, and notoriety (at least in the way she had it - he did fight in the crusades after all) so his clothing isn’t to do anything for him but to act as clothing, it holds no mental power over him, he has no image to project - he’s done so much that he wants to help people and protect his family and that’s it

I don’t think growing up in genoa before the crusades lent itself to that many fashion opportunities and while we aren’t sure of his exact status, i don’t think any of the guard were particularly wealthy (except possibly yusuf as the son of merchants) and being a priest at the time i’m sure didn’t make him wealthy in his adulthood either

And while he’s lived 900+ years, the way you grew up doesn’t just leave you, he was at least catholic, and i still think he holds his faith close, just in a different way now

Plus look at his tac outfit, the most comfortable looking (it is a hoodie after all) and he has half a dozen guns strapped to himself along with sword, he wants the ability to carry his things comfortably without impeding him in any way, he wants to be totally and completely prepared and is very much the typical dad in this sense, everything must be on hand so he can protect those he loves

Also you know this man owns cargo pants much to joe’s dismay

joe

we all know joe is the fashionable male among the guard, i mean the backwards baseball cap and the zipper pants? yeah

in his tac outfit, the hat really adds nothing to it besides aesthetic, it’s not shielding his eyes from the sun because he’s wearing sunglasses and it doesn’t aid him in any way during a fight unless he had decided to pull a booker and do “whatever works” and just like hit someone with it - it’s a purely aesthetic choice

but joe was the child of merchants and lived in an area with a rich history of colorful and beautiful fashion, the region was known for the lightweight fabrics and light silks that during the crusades, many were brought back to europe and astounded the europeans

i think that has stayed with joe, that complete appreciation and awe at the craft of making clothing and using clothing to show yourself and personality 

joe is also a man of the arts, there was so much poetry and arts in the maghreb region, and while that existed in italy as well, nicky was a priest and probably wasn’t exposed to it much outside a religious context

joe is also an artist himself, he has such a grand appreciation for aesthetics and while clothing purely for aesthetics isn’t practical for the life they live unless they are on a break, he manages to infuse his clothing with his personality nonetheless

the backwards hat was fun, unnecessary but it also didn’t get in the way of his fighting. he probably just enjoyed the look (and i know we all did too) and the leather jacket with the hoodie and zippered pants at the end scene was just such an effortless cool look that was still practical but had a lot more personality and an attempted look™ than say nicky and his dad jacket

nile

most of what nile is wearing in the movie isn’t her choice of clothing, not that i don’t think she’d absolutely pick out that green bomber jacket but in the movie she wasn’t the one who picked it, it was packed for her

but the outfit she wears in the end is just like her, trendy and young and refreshing given that the rest of the guard sticks to their own styles they’ve been in the whole movie

but nile is the one who is most likely to branch out, she’s only in her late 20s and by her last scene in the movie it’s only been maybe a week or so since she became immortal, she hasn’t evolved a ‘be ready to fight’ kind of fashion and doesn’t have the hundreds of years of experience telling her to buy things that she can fight in as well as sleep in - now she was in the marines so to some extent but not with her own personal clothing choices

despite her chaotic introduction to being immortal, it won’t set in for a while that their lives are running from one danger to the next, taking breaks when they can, especially with andy’s renewed commitment to the job she and the others set out to accomplish, her clothing style will probably change as she settles into this new life

but we can see in her last scene, she is wearing comfortable clothing, a fitted shirt with a stylish yet somewhat more loose fitting jacket and looser pants (they look like joggers and i can’t completely remember if they are or not)

so while her clothes are comfortable, they are more fashionable than any of the others, and while this probably has lots to do with her age i think it’s very important to her current state of mind

she’s had the most insane weeks of her life, found out she’s not going to die for a very long time, found out there are others like her, and had to say goodbye to her family without seeing them again because she’s decided to stick with her new life

and this is a massive change for her, after being in the military for quite a few years, assuming she joined when she around 18-20 which i think she did enlist then especially given the fact that her dad passed when she was younger

life in the military is very controlled, so her having this sudden new gift but also this vast wide open future is probably terrifying to her, so much has changed so quickly, she hasn’t had the time to properly sort through how she’s feeling and truly realizing what this life means

her clothes are a reflection of one thing in her life she can currently control because she can’t control what’s going to happen in the world and where copley will find them a job or where they will be at any one time but she has control over herself so she dresses herself how she wants, how she’d dress if she was home

it’s some semblance of normality, some piece of herself that hasn’t changed and that she wants to express

quynh

while we don’t see quynh much besides in flashbacks and then in the final scene i think fashion is going to be something important to her

she spent 500 years drowning, unable to do anything, unable to save herself

nile said she was feeling insane and angry, quynh spent 500 years without an ounce of control over what was happening to her and regaining her life is something she is not going to take for granted

she’s going to live her life to the fullest, which includes wearing whatever she likes and wearing the colors she loves and the clothing that makes her feel beautiful and badass and powerful - a little like andy and a little like nile

it’s a huge part of her life she’s regained, clothing is something the whole world sees and part of how we perceive people and in a world that she doesn’t know at all she’ll want to craft herself an image because clothing is still one thing she can understand - the styles are all different but i have no doubts it’s something she took to quite quickly, having something she can control completely

[blissfulparker]

Seasick→P.P pt.2

Parings→ peter Parker x reader

Warnings→slowburn, fake dating, fluff

Summary→when you lie to your mom about having a boyfriend before vactation peter steps in to help. But being in a fake relationship isnt as easy as you thought. especially not easy when you two have feelings for one another. 

A/n→ here is part two of seasick! @spectacularlyspidey made me this lovely moodboard, I love Ren 🥰 I hope you guys enjoy it and I’m going to try and post it more often if that is what you guys want💗

Toothbrush, Peter, you need your toothbrush.” May helps him pack. She seemed more excited than peter. Peter placed his clothes into bens old suitcase as if it was a chore. Hes scared, beyond scared. What if your family hates him, what if they think hes less of what they expected, what if they catch on? All the ideas and scenarios ran through his head.

“May, i've got it. I'm 19 not 14.” he reminded her and she pouted. She knew the whole plane, he had nothing to hide from her Anyways.

“You know that you can still say no.” she comes over to run a hand through Peter's hair. She knew when Peter had a crush, she always did. Although normally he'd get scared of going on a field trip with one or a study date, never a summer vacation.

“She needs me to do this. I told her i would and were setting boundaries on the plane so when we get there its not weird.” he told her and she hummed.

“I know you really like her, like more than a friend. I have a tingle too.” she teases and peter scrunches his face. “But think this can be a start, you maybe could start something here.” she kisses his forehead before leaving him in his rom to finish packing. He looks over at his phone to see the time, he sees how you’ll be at his house soon and picking him up for the airport. The airport where you'd meet your family in Florida where you’d go out to sea.

He shuts the suitcase and listens to the sound of it zipping up before flopping on his bed letting the time run out.

-

8 hours, it was an 8 hour flight filled with anxiety and fear. You had both agreed on a list. A list of things to do around your family

-forehead kisses are allowed(kisses on the lips not necessary unless needed)

-holding hands as often as we can

-snuggling up to one another

-going places together like the pool or restaurant

-pet names

-make up stories about each other

-hands always on one another

That was about it. That's all you two had to do and you'd keep it up for a week. Then when the two of you get home things go back to normal. Normal. That word hurt peters ears. Normal meant there were no real feelings and he'd have to let go of you.

“I-i can hold your bags.” he offered as you two got off the plane. He wore his Columbia hoodie with sweats, probably not the best option for landing in Florida but he was so nervous.

You give him a warm smile and nod. You were nervous too, for almost all the same reasons as peter. You wished you could have just taken ned, ned or another friend who was just seen as your friend. Someone you didn't have to think so much about kissing. Someone you didn't have to think about pretending to hold. Someone you didn't have to worry catching feelings for.

“Wait,” you stop him and he looks at you with soft eyes. “My mom is really....touchy. She loves hugging and she might kiss your cheek. It’s nothing to intentionally make you uncomfortable but i'm really sorry in advance.” you warn him.

He nods as from a distance your mom shouts your name. She's wearing a sundress and sandals, ready for a vacation. Your dad is next to her smiling ready to hug you, now he knew it was real. All of it was now real. If your mom and dad intimidated him he was scared to see the rest of your family.

“Oh sweetheart i've missed you so much, ugh New York is such a small yet big state. We wished college did hog you so much.” she kisses your cheeks.

“Mom, dad, this is my boyfriend...Peter, the one I've been telling you about.” you hold his arm and he's already smiling and going in to shake hands. Your mom takes him for a hug and gets pink lipgloss on his cheek.

He sees how much you look like her, the hair, the eyes, the smile that's so contagious, but the personalities are completely different. She was bubbly and happy all over the place while you, you were a little more reserved and only showed the good side to your friends. Save the best parts of you for the best people.

“Ugh i was starting to think she'd never get one, especially not one so handsome and smart.” she holds his arms giving them a squeeze. “Wow he works out too you can really tell.” You quickly take him back before he gets uncomfortable.

“Mom…” you warn and she scoffs.

“Sweetheart, you know I'm teasing. Your sisters are already boarded and waiting so we can leave when you two are ready.” sisters. You never told him about sisters. He didn't even know you had any siblings. He thought you were always an only child. You never talked about any siblings or really family except your mom and dad and occasionally your aunt.

But he can tell by your facial expressions that you were already dreading it more than him, dredging sisters but he didn't know why. He wasn't going to push it either. By the shift in your body he knew it was best to just question when you two were alone.

He willingly followed your family into a cab where you four set off for a week of one of the hardest masks he had to put on, the mask of pretending to love you when he really did but could never tell you.

-

Never being on a cruise ship before he had no idea what to expect. His bare knowledge being the titanic—which did not help his fear of the ocean—even for the smartest kid, normally, he didn’t know much about boats. He never even considered himself to be on one, until last summer he never even thought he’d be in Europe for his senior year of highschool. That’s how he had to think of this, Europe. Semi-relaxing, regular peter, Europe. This was a once and a lifetime opportunity for him to be on a cruise with no Spider-Man activity, No stress, nothing but the sun on his skin.

“So we eat dinner at 7pm, you kids can get all settled in...maybe find yourself at the spa or the pool. Don’t be shy to order room service, ugh the boy is handsome but skinny.” Your mom comments once again. You give her eyes and a groan as you follow her down the hall to your room. “Oh please, you eat too, you're starting to lose your color.” She picks up your arm and you take it back.

He didn’t think the teasing was that bad, sure the appearance comments were too soon but he thought it was all a part of her bubbly personality. May teases all of them to eat when they’re over. May has teased all of them but always in a nice way.

When Peter dated Gwen—his ex girlfriend—last year she was the same. Always telling Peter about his appearance but he never really cared what she had to say. He just really needed someone at the time to move on from you.

“Here is your room, you kids have fun.” She hands you the card and kisses your cheek. “Wear the sundress your sister picked out, don’t be late.” She warned and walked down the hall. Only a few hours in and you wished you would’ve made some crap excuse about having a late final or actually telling the truth.

You two enter the room and Peter is shocked. It’s a gorgeous beach themed room. If he were a child he would already be jumping on the bed and touching everything. You seem to just drop your bags on the floor and immediately go to the bathroom. He leaves you be, taking in the beauty of the room, the California king bed, the wall hung T.V. The view of the ocean that made him slightly nervous but he didn’t mind. There was a dress on the bed, the sundress your mom wanted you to wear.

“Oh fuck.” You rub your face seeing that there’s the one bed. You thought maybe she’d at least use some sense and get two beds, that or a two roomed hotel. “I’m sorry pete, I thought she would maybe get us two rooms or—“

Another thing he seemed to notice was how money didn’t seem to be an issue for your family yet you never seemed to come off as well off. You lived in a small apartment like peter, your clothes were mostly thrifted or old, you ate ramen about three times a week and if it wasn’t that it was cheap pizza. Just like the rest of the group. You never came off as rich, it shocked him to even hear about a cruise, it shocked him even more that you could just say about how they could’ve gotten two rooms on a ship.

“It’s a California king,” he gestures. “We’ll fit without touching each other.” He calms you with a soft smile seeing how stressed you were.

“You’re not too scared of ships are you?” You ask him remembering how he said something about being afraid of the water.

“Well...Uh...no but yes, it makes me nervous but—“ your hand places itself over peters for comfort and he freezes up. You notice and quickly take your hand away.

“It won’t feel like anything trust me, you don’t feel the ship rock or anything. It’s not the titanic.” You reminded him as you picked up your phone and looked at the time. You two had plenty of time to get yourself ready.

“So….” he clasp his hands together and you look over to him. “For dinner how should I act?” He questions. You’re getting comfortable in the bed already while he’s still scared to touch it.

“Just be Peter, um...maybe a hand around my shoulder at one point or hand holding? Just like our list said. Really sell it. They’re gonna ask a lot of questions of how we met and stuff like that but I can do all of them if you want.” You tell him and he nods.

“Right,” he responded thinking the best thing to do was just be peter, the peter you knew, not the peter who was totally in love with you. “Just be peter.”

And that’s all he had to do.

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[kkusuka]

can i request s/o going up to kuroo, iwa, semi, sakusa and osamu after the match which their respective teams have won and they lifted s/o up for a cute hug but s/o accidentally gets too carried away and starts kissing them in front of their team members? lmao and bonus for nsfw ending please! thank you!

they get a kiss kiss

this reminded me of the i love u *muah* *muah* *muah*  tiktok

(i have no idea why this was so hard to write, and it’s kinda bad, sorry)

Kuroo Tetsurou

Kuroo wasn't afraid of showing you off by any means

Especially when that snake was watching, so he was open arms when you ran up to him after the game

just a regular hug? After that?

No that won’t do at all

Regular hugs were for practice games and games they were a shoo-in to win, this game was fit for something more…….

He picked you up (groped your ass for good measure, and spun you like a superhero.

That’s what this game called for

According to you this game also called for a kiss, a deep one in fact

Then after, multiple little kisses in between the compliments and praises about how “amazingly amazing” he was

He was vaguely aware of kenma gag motion and lev’s disappointed sigh, but he wasn’t really too focused on that right now.

He was in-fact focused on how you were subconsciously grinding on him

And the way that when you put your arms around his neck and played with the hairs on the back of his neck

(bonus if you grope him back)

He could also feel his dick straining against his boxers

He liked where this was going

“You’re playing a dangerous game kitten-”

“What? I don't recall doing anything bad at all!”

Oh, you were playing that game?

Let’s see how that one holds up later.

Iwaizumi Hajime

Iwa just gets carried away when he’s excited

Who could really blame him though?

They were going to the finals, that was something worthy of excitement.

And apparently, you thought so too, considering the way you jumped into his arms as soon as he got close enough

He lifted you up, hands under your ass keeping you stable

And you just couldn't help yourself, you were so happy and he was all smiley  

Which meant his cheeks god all round, and all-round cheeks deserve a squish and a kiss

Maybe more than one kiss

Maybe more than a few

At that point it was too far gone, cheek kisses turn into little pecks on the lips, which then became a slight make-out session

I mean he wasn't complaining, Oikawa was, but he was not

But apparently making out in the middle of a hallway with other teenagers and some children, was not ideal

Specifically when the mothers of said children tell you not to be inappropriate.

This kiss might have been cut off, but the kiss he gave you as he ripped off your shorts was much longer

So was the goodnight kiss after he had fucked you out of reality.

Semi Eita

Semi is an impulse kind of guy

He asked you out on impulse

(in the middle of the hallway after you helped him pick up some papers that he let fall)

You had your first kiss on impulse

(at a festival fireworks show, he just looked at you and you looked back and he smashed his lips to yours)

And you seemed to be picking up on his impulsive nature, and to say the least, he was proud.

But impulse meeting even worse simple plus excitement

Equals a head-but

But that didn't even stop him, other than the slight whip-lash, he yanked you off the ground and into his arms

And spinning the both of you round and round until he was dizzy

And just like your first kiss, you grabbed his cheeks and kissed the hell out of your happy boyfriend

He'd be crazy not to kiss back, and that’s when poor goshiki tapped out

Surprise surprise, he spun you around again, then lack of air pulled the two of you apart

“We won”

“Haha I know eita, and I’m happy. But let's get back to our previous activities”

And you did, for the rest of the night

And into the morning

Hen when you woke back up <3

Sakusa Kiyoomi

honestly, PDA is a no go

Like ever

But on certain occasions he’s just…… shocked

In these subtle moments, he just forgets the world

So when they advanced to the national finals, he became slug-like just looking around like it was his first day on earth

And you have this amazing talent of taking him out of this trance

You are also the only person that he will hug, take that with a grain of salt

He loves you but he doesn't love the five people sitting around you who didn't wash their hands within the last ten minutes

(but as I said before after wins like that he doesn't even think about how gross everyone is)

He’s too busy thinking about how you're running up to him and pressing your face in his chest and making the smiling face that he loves looking at

He barely feels you tapping his arm for him to pick you up, but when you jump up he catches you like always

And before he can say anything you're eating his lips

And hell they just won, might as well indulge in it

(and he can practically hear Miya yelling about how girls always go for the assholes, yeah he’s busy thinking about how nice your ass feels against his hand)

He can already see Komori doing the eyebrow wiggle at him but he’ll just have to do it tomorrow

He’s gonna be busy tonight

Osamu Miya

Surprisingly PDA was a common thing between the two of you

Honestly with a brother like atsumu he wanted to drown as much as the real world out as he possibly could

And if that meant having his tongue down your throat half the day, he sure wasn't complaining

So an after the game kiss was pretty normal for you two

To be specific- a KISS

What was happening right now was definitely not a simple kiss

It had started with a simple kiss in your defense, but now you were being lifted onto his hips

This was more like a middle of a party full-blown make-out session

And maybe if the two of you were more tuned into your surrounding area you would hear Atsumu yelling at you to stop sucking each other faces

Or you would see that suna was taking pictures-

(suna can shove those up his ass- Osamu Miya, 2021. About him and his s/o eating each other faces)

Maybe he’ll send Suna a picture of you sucking his dick later

(he didn’t but he was really thinking about it, if he wanted a picture he should have just asked)

But since he can't just take off all; your clothes right now, he’ll settle for later

And tomorrow morning

Maybe the afternoon

Then back to tomorrow night  

[delaber]

Just Friends (Part 3)

Story Summary: After moving to America for a 3-month long internship, you meet two interesting characters on a boring night out.

Word Count: 2.2K

Pairing: Rafael Casal x Reader

Warnings: Alcohol, minor drug use, smut, slight dom!Rafa, swearing, and loads of British references (sorry not sorry lol).

Chapter Note: let me know what you think

Tag List:  lonelydance mysearchforgratification

Other Parts: See Masterlist

FIVE WEEKS LATER

With the amount of work you had had in the lab in December, five weeks passed by easily, and before you could truly process what had become of time, you had spent your first Christmas ever away from England.

Still, even though five weeks had passed by, you caught yourself thinking about this guy, this Rafa, annoyingly often. 

You couldn't believe that you had fallen for (what you assumed were) his regular normie cad tricks: He had talked you up, walked you home, made you feel special, and then he hadn't given you any sign of life since then - and now the complete lack of contact was driving you insane! You knew that he was only interested in the shag, and so were you to be honest, but it still annoyed you immensely that the mere thought of him roughing you up had taken over most of your thoughts.

As if Rafa was a professional womaniser, it had only taken him a couple of hours and an obnoxious fuck boy-attitude to etch himself into your brain. And five weeks later, he was still on your mind?! What was going on with you? If you'd only invited him inside to boff back then, he probably wouldn't even have been the least bit interesting here five weeks later.

Thus, irritated with yourself and your flair for the dramatic, you often cursed yourself for having left him on the pavement that night back in November. On the night in question, however, the need to stand up to his spoiled attitude had been stronger than the urge to let him win and shag him senseless - and as a result, you often found yourself fantasising about him when you lay in bed at night. So in a way, he had won anyway.

And you hated it. You hated that he had somehow gotten to you. The way he had acted around you had made you aware that this boy was an avid smooth talker who was probably used to get whatever and whomever he wanted by any means necessary.

And you were having none of it. Forgetting about him was definitely for the best. You needed someone to knock the naughty thoughts of him out of your mind. By any means necessary.

You had never really cared much for New Years Eve, but this year, you found yourself in the right spirit for the first time ever. You had changed into the most form-fitting, festive dress you owned in the hopes of meeting a cute guy with whom you could spend the night. A guy who could knock the last thoughts of Rafa out of your head.

In the mood for an eventful evening, you had showed up for Miranda's all-girls pre-party right on time, tagging your roommate Samantha along with you. The first part of the evening passed by quickly; you had loads of champagne and ate a fancy dinner at Miranda's place surrounded by all of her best friends and some of your colleagues from the Hospital. You had all clinked to the new year as the date shifted to January 1st and you soon found yourself in a taxi on the way to an exclusive party downtown that Miranda's friend had secured you all tickets for. Big, fancy parties like this wasn't normally your scene, but you could make an exception for tonight. It was New Years, after all.

You had arrived at the club, had had a few drinks at your private table, and had even talked to some pretty cute guys, but for some reason they all bored you. At one point you found yourself cornered by a handsome - but particularly boring - gentleman when Samatha finally saved you.

"I just flirted my way to a bottle of champagne!" she squealed as she came running towards you with a magnum flask in hand.

"You did what?" you laughed at your bubbly roomie, the bore of a man by your side already forgotten.

"I just asked a random guy at the bar if he wanted to buy a table of pretty girls a drink - and the patsy did," she laughed, "not in my wildest imagination had I ever expected him actually to do it," she squealed as she twisted off the cork with a loud pop.

"So you just let the poor guy pay for it and then you ran away?" you laughed at her while holding out your glass, waiting for her to fill it.

"I reckon he did it to make me go away - I think he may have found me annoying," Samantha laughed, "He told me to take the bottle back to my friends' table and clink his glass from a distance. Look, it's him over there," she raised her glass to a guy that you recognised immediately; you would've recognised those fluffy black curls anywhere.

Rafa's friend Diggs.

When he noticed you looking at him, he too raised his glass and sent you a warm smile, silently telling you that he definitely recognised you too.

"Hey; I know that guy," you said slowly, "I met him when I'd just moved here."

"You know him?" Samantha stared at you with a sly smile, "Probably why he was so eager for me to bring the champagne back to the table instead of drinking it at the bar with him. How well do you know him if you don't mind my asking?" Samantha wriggled her eyebrows.

"Not like that," you laughed, "I only talked to him for a couple of minutes."

Samantha nudged you with her elbow, "you should go thank him."

"Yeah," you hesitated, turning away from him, "I'm honestly surprised he even recognises me."

"Well, you must've made quite the impression," Samantha was still looking at him from over your shoulder, "Oh shit, he's coming over here right now," she squealed in a whisper.

"Be cool!" you laughed before turning around, suddenly face to face with Diggs.

"Happy new year," he smiled and squinted his eyes slightly, "I think we've met before."

You nodded, reciprocating his wide smile, "we have. You're Rafa's friend," the words escaped your mouth before you could stop them.

He nodded, "...and you're Rafa's girl."

You could feel your cheeks getting warm now, "I've had like an hour long conversation with him. I would hardly refer to myself as his girl," you squinted your eyes at the handsome man in front of you.

He shrugged and laughed, "you know what I mean."

You cleared your throat, "well thanks for the champagne. You really didn't have to."

"I wanted to," he smiled, "I was hoping to catch your attention."

"Why? We've exchanged about ten words..."

"Yeah, but I'm sure Rafa would love to see you again."

"He's here?" your eyes widened. The mere thought of meeting Rafa again tonight was making your heart beat faster. You reminded yourself that you needed to keep your cool. He may be handsome and charming but he was also loud and obnoxious and a sleaze.

"We have a table in the back," Diggs nodded and pointed to an area that was cordoned off with red rope, "you should come with me."

"I don't think so," you managed to say with as much clarity as you could muster. You needed someone to help you get rid of Rafa - not indulge further in him. He was dangerous.

"Aw, come on," Diggs smiled charmingly.

"What makes you think he even wants to see me?" You tried, "as I said; I've had an hour-long conversation with him over a month ago."

"Trust me," he smiled convincingly, "I know my best friend. Are you coming or what?"

You weren't exactly sure whether it was a good idea or not. You were quite sure that if Rafa was acting just half as charming as last time, you'd be throwing yourself at him at the first chance you got and you were scared that his bad boy demeanour might lead to you wanting more even though you were going home in a couple of weeks. ..But then again, you were on the prowl for someone who could knock Rafa out of your head. Maybe actually being with him would be enough to finally close that chapter.

"Oh, she's coming!" Samantha said loudly while giving your back a small shove.

"Great!" Diggs shot you a blinding smile and stretched out his hand for you to take.

"Uhm, okay..." you said, actually glad that Samantha had made a decision for you.

As Diggs pulled you towards him, you looked back at Samantha who was looking at you with huge eyes and moving her lips without any sound, "who's Rafa?" she mouthed.

"I'll tell you later, okay?" you whispered to your friend.

Samantha tilted her head and whispered back, "well, if all of his friends are just as handsome as that guy," she nodded towards Diggs, "you're coming back for me!"

You laughed at her, "of course. I'll see you later," you said before taking Diggs' hand, following him straight through the club's dance floor and towards the closed off area.

When he reached the bouncer, he pulled up his sleeve and showed him a stamp on his wrist. "She's with me," he nodded towards you and the bouncer stepped aside, letting both of you enter the scene behind the red rope.

"Is this some sort of VIP area?" you asked Diggs as you took in the room that had been closed off to the rest of the party. The tables back here looked far more fancy and were lined with much more expensive booze than what had been available where you had been sitting only moments before.

Diggs looked at you with a weird expression, "Uh yeah..."

"It looks very expensive."

"Yeah, well..." he looked a bit uncomfortable, "we  - uh - we have a good friend who's a bit over the top with these things, but we just roll with it."

He sounded weird. Almost as if he was lying. You quickly shrugged it off, however, telling yourself that of course he was being honest; it would've been a weird thing to lie about. "Must be a good friend for you to spend this amount of money on his comfort," you mumbled as you watched a girl open up a bottle of ridiculously expensive vodka.

"Yes, well... come on," Diggs said and urged you to follow him.

You scanned the room as you tagged along Diggs, noticing several low-key famous people that you were sure were known for something semi-popular but that you couldn't quite place your finger on. You'd never really been the type to care for fame. Still, you turned to Diggs and asked, "hold up; are you famous or something?"

Diggs sent you a shrug, "...or something," he said mysteriously and pointed to a table in the far back, "our table is over there."

Slowly, you turned your gaze away from him with a feeling that you were definitely missing out on something. You followed the direction that he was pointing in and found a table lined with people. You quickly scanned their faces, eyes landing on Rafa almost immediately.

Just as you had expected, he was laughing obnoxiously loud, his Adam's apple bouncing up and down in his throat in time with his vociforous outbursts of laughter. He was wearing a dark suit and he had his blonde hair slightly slicked back, making him look particularly dark and handsome. It was pure sex.

Okay, you definitely needed to keep your cool.

He was chatting up a very attractive girl who was twirling her black hair between her fingers and smiling suggestively at him. His signature charming smile was in place as he leaned closer to her and whispered something in her ear. Whatever he was saying was definitely working as she kept touching his arm and batting her eyelashes seductively. He seemed to enjoy the attention, scooting closer and closer to the beautiful woman with each passing sentence. The sight of it made your stomach drop slightly.

You contemplated turning around and go back to Samantha before Rafa had had the chance to see you. Clearly, he was busy. You told yourself that you didn't want to be the reason why he was striking out with this girl who he was clearly trying to charm the knickers off - when in reality, you were angry with yourself; It was stupid of you to think that he actually wanted to see you when he hadn't stopped by since that night five weeks ago.

You took a step backwards to go back to Samantha but immediately felt Diggs standing behind you like a concrete wall. His palm came into contact with your back as he gave you a light shove between your shoulder blades, pushing you towards the table. "Hey Rafa!" he called out, "look who I found!"