#shameless he lifted almost an entire line too

[get-back-homeward]

listening to john lennon’s cover of chuck berry’s you can’t catch me

and my brain mindlessly drifts to come together

and I do a double take

y’all it’s the same song

[prythianpages]

When I Kissed the Teacher | Cassian

summary: After shameless flirting and one drunken confession, you decide to finally own up to your feelings for Cassian.

warnings: fluff, some suggestiveness/reader thirsting for Cas bc who wouldn't??

a/n: @daycourtofficial suggested this song and idea so big shoutout to her! Though I did a poll and Az won (you can find his version here), I decided to also write a version for Cas as a huge thank you for following me! I just reached 1k ♥ For the sake of this fic, Nesta and Cas are just good friends.

This is part of my ABBA x ACOTAR series (masterlist) where I dedicate a song to a character (:

Cassian strolls along the hallway, a carefree whistle coming from his lips. A towel is draped casually over his shoulder, barely doing anything to cover his well-defined upper half. A satisfying workout has left his muscles pleasantly fatigued and a content smile on his face. He usually trains in the morning but unfortunately, he had to rearrange his schedule to accompany Azriel on trip to Windhaven.

A creaking sound halts his steps and he turns his head to find you, his favorite trainee, struggling to open the door that leads to the infamous ten-thousand steps. Cassian watches you struggle for a moment longer, suppressing a laugh at the way you huff out in exasperation, allowing your forehead to fall against the door in defeat.

“What are you doing?”

Your head whips around in response, a dizzying blur causing a momentary loss of balance. As your entire weight leans against the door, it finally yields with a creak. Both the house and Cassian spring to action. A sudden gust of wind sweeps through, slamming the door shut and sending you stumbling forward instead.

Cassian catches you in his arms, one hand securing the small of your back while the other cradles the back of your head. Seemingly unfazed by the dangerous fate you almost, quite literally, threw yourself into, you appear nonchalant as you pull back slightly.

"I'm going out.”

As you speak, Cassian catches the subtle scent of ripe red berries coming from your breath. He recognizes it as Mor’s favorite wine. His hazel eyes graze over your body, taking in your thin cami top and shorts with heart patterns that match the hearts on the fluffy slippers you wear.

“Are you drunk?” He asks, his voice warm with amusement.

You don’t answer him, seemingly distracted by his bare chest. A thin line of sweat makes the black ink of his tattoos glisten, enticing you to lean in and have a taste. If you had drank a bit more, perhaps, you would’ve. But for now, you're content to place your hands on his chest instead, heart fluttering at the sensation of the hard muscle beneath. 

“Mmm, you’re absolutely delicious. Has anyone told you, you should be shirtless more often?”

Cassian chuckles. He’s caught you staring at him during training, often flexing his muscles on purpose for you to give you a better show. And it’s no secret that he finds you attractive too, especially after you coaxed it out of him one morning.

“Get off that pretty ass of yours and give me fifty.”

Your mouth falls open but it’s not the fifty push ups you’re gasping over. “You think I’m pretty?”

His gaze lowers, trailing down your body appreciatively before lifting back up to meet your eyes again. His lips twitch upwards and there’s a sparkle in his hazel depths. “I think you’re many things, sweetheart. Doesn’t keep you from giving me fifty. On the floor. Now.”

Flirting is common between you two but even then, there’s no way you’d say those words sober to him. “Yup, you’re drunk,” Cassian says. He makes a mental note to chide Mor the next morning for letting you out of her sight.

“And you’re Cassian. My favorite teacher.” You grin lazily at him, a finger grazing a path over to where his heart beats. Your touch creates a ripple of warmth, prompting his heart to lurch forward, craving for more of it. 

Get it together, he thinks as he reminds himself that you’re drunk.

“Mr. Cassian. My Mr. Cassian. My Cassian.”

A flush of warmth paints his cheeks at your slur of words and he doesn’t care if you don’t mean those words the way he’d like you to. You probably won’t even remember tonight and it’s this thought that gives him the courage to reciprocate. His fingers grip your chin lightly, thumb sweeping over your cheek in a tender caress.

“Your Cassian,” he affirms gently, a soft smile playing on his lips. If only you knew how much he adored you... 

Hearts take shape in your eyes, softening your gaze.  You throw your arms around his neck, pulling him closer into your drunken embrace. Cassian responds, his hands securing beneath your knees, effortlessly lifting you. A playful giggle escapes you, only to be hushed when you notice him carrying you away from the door.

“No, Cas,” you shake your head at him. Attempting to squirm away, you insistently gesture back towards the door. Yet, his arms around you tighten, holding you in place. “We’re going the wrong way! Rita’s is that way!”

“We’re going to bed.”

Your squirming stops and you draw back, looking up at him with a flirtatious flutter of your eyelashes. “We are?”

“You–you’re going to bed. Your own bed, where you will sleep…alone,” Cassian finds himself stammering as he avoids your gaze.

“I don’t want to be alone,” you reply and he can hear the frown in your voice. “I want to be with you.”

“Cauldron boil me,” Cassian curses, quickening his steps. The faster he can get you to your room, the better.

When Cassian finally reaches your room, he thanks the house for opening the door for him. Your silence prompts him to assume you’ve fallen asleep. As he carries you to your bed, his eyes wander around your room, taking in the small details. His heart swells with warmth when he catches a glimpse of the book he had given you over training methods–his favorite book–sitting on your nightstand.

Cassian pulls the covers off your bed and feels you stir in his hold, arms and legs tightening around him as if you could sense his impending departure. He literally has to pry your grip off of him so he can lay you down on your bed. He tucks you in with such tenderness that it sobers you up for just a moment, eyes blinking open. “Can’t you stay?”

The pout you give him is endearing and tugs at his heartstrings.  “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

“But–”

He brushes your hair back with a soft expression on his face that would’ve had you melting, if you weren’t upset by his rejection. 

"Not when you’re like this.”

“But…,” you begin again. A pleading look fills your eyes and there’s a subtle wobble of your lips. “What if I tell you I love you?”

Cassian pauses. His eyes study your face in contemplation. He would love nothing more than to slip under the covers with you but he remains firm in his resolve. So with a soft pat to your head, he says, “tell me when you’re sober, sweetheart.”

**

“Tell me when you’re sober, sweetheart,” you mock Cassian’s voice with a scowl the next morning. Contrary to Cassian’s belief, you remembered everything. “Ugh! He might’ve well just told me he hates me!”

“Or maybe, I don’t know, hear me out,” Nesta begins, raising her hands before you could interrupt. She sits across from you on your bed, already dressed in her training leathers. “He wants you to confess to him when you’re sober.”

Emerie, who leans against your desk, giggles at the look on your face. “Don’t be rational, Nesta,” she says in a teasing tone. “He totally hates her.”

The door to your room creaks open and Gywn steps in with a slight frown. “Hurry up! We’re going to be late for our morning session,” she then looks at you, her frown deepening when she takes note of your disheveled state. “Y/n, what are you still doing in your pajamas?”

 “I’m not going today. Tell them I’m hungover,” you tell her with a grimace, pretending to be sick. Nesta rolls her eyes at your dramatics. “I think I’m going to throw up. You should go before I do.”

Gwyn glances toward Emerie, who had also been drinking with you and Mor last night. She then turns back to you with narrowed eyes. “Emerie seems just fine to me.”

Emerie shrinks back with a small blush. The two of you exchange a look. Yes, you had been drinking with Mor and Emerie last night. But you had done most of the drinking while your friend snuck off with the pretty blonde.

“Leave her be,” Emerie says as she stands up straight, covering for you the same way you had for her.  “I’m sure Cas will understand, given the state he found her in last night.”

“What? Don’t tell me you confessed your feelings while drunk,” Gwyn says with an amused giggle. As the silence stretches, her eyes widen, head turning to you. You're quick to avoid her gaze, prompting her to remark, "No wonder he's blushing like a fool today."

That makes your head perk up almost immediately, eyes finding hers only to see the playful glint in her eyes. Nesta and Emerie laugh while you fling one of your pillows at Gwyn. She catches it with ease and throws it back at you. Surrendering to the inevitable teasing, you let the pillow hit you, collapsing onto the comforting expanse of your bed, hoping the blankets might swallow you whole.

“Can you all just leave me be?” You groan. “I’d like to wallow in my own embarrassment alone.”

"Fine," Nesta sighs, patting your leg as she hops off your bed. "But don't think about skipping tomorrow's training!”

**

The next morning dawns, and you find yourself unable to face training, still grappling with the aftermath of your drunken confession to Cassian. Out of all the fish in the sea of Velaris, your heart chose to hyperfixate on him. Your teacher. 

As night falls, you're contemplating skipping training again. It's only another day, and with Friday approaching, the weekend promises a much-needed break. This extra time might be just what you need to gather the courage to face him once more.

Turning in for the night, you cast a glance towards your nightstand. There, beside the book Cassian lent you, sits an untouched hangover tonic. It appeared the morning after your first skipped training session. When you thanked your friends, they had only looked back at you in confusion. You didn’t have to guess who left it there for you after that.

With a sigh, you close your eyes. One of these days, you'll tell him you dream of him every night. Until then, you savor the bittersweet anticipation and allow sleep to pull you into its embrace.

In the sweet haven of your dream, you and Cassian stroll through the center of Velaris as the city shimmers around you. Cassian laughs, the sound echoing like a sweet melody. The two of you then find yourselves in a meadow bathed in moonlight. A sea of luminescent flowers surround you and as the wind blows around you softly, Cassian sneezes. It’s your turn to laugh then.

Cassian rolls his eyes at you and then reaches for your hand, his touch warm and reassuring. He pulls you into a dance with a smile that fills your heart with warmth and–

Your body stirs at the sudden loss of warmth and the soft smile that was on your lips morphs into a frown. Something seizes your ankles, yanking you down the bed. With a sudden jolt, your eyes fly open, and a scream escapes your throat. It takes a moment to recgonize the hazel eyes glaring down at you.

“I hope that dream of yours was beautiful because you’re about to have a nightmare of a training session,” Cassian huffs but there’s a teasing to his tone. “Come on, get up.”

Staring up at him in surprise, your heart flutters, still entangled in the remnants of the dream. Unsatisfied with your lack of response, Cassian leans forward and effortlessly picks you up, hoisting you over his shoulder. The trance shatters, and you protest, kicking and punching.

"Hey! Let me go!" you exclaim, your resistance met with Cassian's apparent indifference as he heads towards the door.

"At least let me freshen up and change!" you plea in exasperation. "You can't expect me to train in my pajamas!"

Cassian rolls his eyes because if you had woken up early like usual, you would’ve had more than enough time to change into something more comfortable for training. He doesn’t care. He just needs you to be there. On time.

“I’ll catch a cold or freeze to death on the rooftop!”

He pauses, his wings shuddering at the thought. While he doesn’t care about what you wear,  he does care about you. Setting you down, Cassian regards you with a stern expression, though his stomach flutters. He hadn’t seen you since that night.

“You have 5 minutes.”

Cassian watches as you spring into action, your hurried footsteps echoing through the room as you run toward your bathroom. He bites back the urge to laugh. He’d never seen you run so fast.

**

Cassian was not exaggerating when he said you were in for a nightmare of a training session. Much to your dismay, your friends were all under Azriel’s instruction for the morning, allowing Cassian’s attention to solely focus on you. Something you normally would’ve swooned over but given your current tension…

“You’re doing it wrong.”

You let out a huff and lower your sword, dragging the pointy edge along the gravel. A scowl taints your features. “I need a break.”

Cassian shakes his head at you. “Not until you get this move right.”

He moves to stand behind you, placing his hands at your waist. Suddenly, you're thankful for the vigorous activity Cassian pushed you into. It allows you to put full blame for your heavy breathing on the demanding training and not on the way Cassian’s warm breath tickles your ears as he instructs you on how to properly position yourself.

“Like this,” he tells you, using a knee to prod your legs further apart.

Your knees wobble and once again, you blame it on your exhausted muscles. Cassian chuckles, the hands on your waist helping hold you steady. “Are you drunk, y/n?” He teases.

You turn your head to glare at him. “I’m sober.”

Cassian raises an eyebrow at you. “Oh?”

You toss your sword aside, freeing yourself from his hold, and spin around to face him. "And you want to know something else?"

Crossing his arms against his chest, Cassian's lips twitch upwards. He’s fully aware of the way your gaze momentarily dips down, catching the flex of his biceps. "What?" he prompts, the hint of a teasing smile playing on his face. 

Suddenly, the words die at your throat as you meet his gaze again. The intensity in his eyes rattles your nerves and you feel the courage slowly slipping away. Desperate to not let this moment slip through your fingers, you curl your fingers into his leathers and yank him down to your height. Choosing to show him instead, you lean forward and press your lips to his.

You pour out all your feelings into the kiss, heart quickening when he begins to reciprocate. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against him. He’d dreamt of this moment just as much as you did and now that he had a taste, he didn’t want to stop.

Unfortunately, for him, the screams tearing through the training grounds have you pulling away. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Emerie and Gwyn, going wild and playfully tugging at Nesta’s arms while she laughs. Even Azriel indulges in a chuckle.

Blush creeps into your cheeks. You hold your breath as the world seems to stand still. However, instead of an awkward response, Cassian simply smiles, the flush of his cheeks matching yours and you feel like you can breathe again.

“I like you,” you finally confess, exhaling as your gaze dips downward. “Like might not even be sufficient enough at this point…"

Cassian's fingers gently grip your chin, coaxing your gaze back up to his. His thumb sweeps over your cheek in a tender caress—the same way it did on the night of your drunken confession. But this time, he doesn't hold back. He allows his thumb to trace the soft plush of your lips next.

And if the gleam in his hazel eyes was not enough to send you to the seventh heaven, his next words did.

“I’m falling for you too.” Cassian says with a fond smile.

Your lips lift into a smile of your own as you look back at him. But it's short lived. There's a flash of red and then Cassian is forcing your sword back into your hands.

"I thought we were done for today," you groan, knowing that you in fact were not done. You just hoped your confession would've distracted him enough.

The soft smile on Cassian's face is replaced with a smug smirk. "Not until you get this move right, sweetheart. In position. Go."

a/n: hope you all enjoyed this one! ❤️ idk how siphon powers work 100% but let's just roll with Cas's siphons being able to pick up a sword.

tagging: @hellodarling1357 , @kennedy-brooke, @scooobies

[pimosworld]

Show me your teeth

Miguel O’Hara x f!reader

Summary-You want Miguel to bite you during sex.(that’s it that’s all.)

CW-18+MDNI,NSFW,angst,comfort,fluff,kissing,establishedrelationship,consent,biting,smut,unprotected piv,piv cream pie,softdom Miguel.

A/N- I haven’t heard show me your teeth by Lady Gaga in years and then it came on the radio twice after I saw the movie so that inspired this shameless smut. Thank you @melodygatesauthor for answering my question about his fangs paralyzing (she’s like,just don’t have them paralyze 😂).

WK-1.2k

Not beta read

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He’s pacing around the room fidgeting with his hands and you almost feel bad for even asking. He definitely was not shy in the bedroom but you may have crossed a line. 

  “Please baby.” You 're not above begging and you know it’s his weakness. 

  “Just this once.” The finality in his tone isn’t questioned-usually.

  “Mhmm.” 

  “What do you mean Mhmm, I said I’ll do it just this once.” He’s completely stopped pacing and is now glaring at you with his arms crossed. The expanse of his broad shoulders and bulging biceps has you momentarily distracted. You would think he would’ve caught on by now that you get turned on when he’s mad. 

  “Well…what if I like it or you like it and we want to do it again? I don’t want to say just this once,just in case.” You’re suddenly noticing patterns in your carpet you've never seen before because you refuse to lift your eyes and meet his intensity. 

  He lets out a deep sigh and runs his hand through his hair. "Fine, but we need to establish some boundaries and make sure we're both comfortable with it." You nod in agreement, relieved that he's willing to compromise. "I just don't want to hurt you," he repeats, his voice softer this time.

  “You have to tell me to stop if it’s too much…because I won’t be able to.” You nod your head in agreement. 

  You stand up and walk over to him, placing a hand on his chest. "I trust you," you say, looking up at him with a small smile. "And I know you would never intentionally hurt me." He leans down and kisses you gently, his hands resting on your hips. 

He stands back and takes off his clothes slowly, the muscles in his chest and arms flexing with each movement. He grins as he notices you staring at him. 

  “Like what you see hermosa?” He asks teasingly 

  You can’t help but smile back feeling a rush of excitement coursing through your body. 

  “desnudate y siéntate en mi regazo.”(undress and sit on my lap.

You hesitate for a moment, unsure if you're ready for this level of intensity, but the look in his eyes tells you that he won't take no for an answer.

You slowly begin to undress, feeling his gaze on you the entire time. Once you're completely naked, you walk over to him and straddle his lap, feeling his hard cock pressing against your ass. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close, and you can feel his hot breath on your neck.

"Good girl," he whispers, his hands roaming over your body. "You look so fucking sexy like this."

You moan softly, feeling your arousal growing with each passing moment. He begins to kiss and nibble on your neck, his hands squeezing your breasts and pinching your nipples. You gasp and arch your back, pressing your ass harder against his cock.

 "Please," you beg, needing more. "I need you."

 He leans in and bites your neck, sending shivers down your spine. You moan in pleasure, feeling the heat between your legs grow. He pulls back and looks at you, his eyes dark with desire. 

  "Are you sure about this?" he asks, his voice low and husky.

You nod, unable to form words as the desire consumes you. He leans in again, biting down harder this time. You cry out, feeling a mix of pain and pleasure. He continues to bite and suck on your neck, leaving marks that you know will last for days. He licks and soothes it with his tongue and your arousal is slowly dripping onto the couch below. 

He moves to the other side of your neck and sinks in, the low whimpers of his name and the tears streaming down your face spur him on-he will definitely want to do this again.

 You can feel his cock twitch against your back steadily leaking precum, his resolve quickly fading as he’s consumed by the feel of your plush skin on his fangs. 

 “Miguel please.” Your voice barely above a whisper. 

  He chuckles darkly, his fingers trailing down your stomach and slipping between your legs. "You're so wet," he murmurs, rubbing your clit in slow circles.

“Do you want me to fuck you?"

"Yes," you moan, grinding against his hand.

 "Please, fuck me."

He stands up, still holding you tightly, and carries you over to the bed. His strength shouldn’t shock you but it does every time. You know he could destroy you if he wanted too but he always takes his time. 

He lays you down and climbs on top of you, gripping the base of his thick cock with his hand as he slowly drags it through your slit. 

  "Are you ready?" he asks, looking into your eyes.

  "Yes," you whisper, and he slowly begins to push inside you. The feeling of him filling you up is almost too much to bear, and you moan loudly,wrapping your legs around his waist.

  “Paciencia amor se que puedes tomar lo que te doy.”( patience love,I know you can take what I give you.) 

  He whispers in your ear as he begins to thrust in and out of you. He’s stretching and filling you completely as your back arches off the bed. He’s holding you like a life line as he grunts and moans above you. 

  “Fuck you look so pretty falling apart in my cock.”

  He picks up the pace hitting something harder and deeper inside. His senses are heightened and he knows you’re getting close. Being the tease that he is he slows down-you know he wants you to beg for it.

  “Please don’t stop Miguel…I'm so close.” 

  “What do you say when you want to come preciosa?” He growls into your ear as he grips your hips tighter, fighting off his release. 

  “Please papí…” He didn’t let you finish as he sank his teeth into your breast, your climax shooting up your spine as your body shakes beneath him. You can still feel him grinding his thick cock through your swollen cunt as he chases his release. Your body is overwrought but his stamina would have him going for hours. 

  He comes with a shout as he spills himself inside you groaning into your neck. He shushes your soft whimpers with his mouth as he places pepper light kisses on you. 

  “You did so good for me…always so good to me.”

  He knows you can’t bear the full weight of him as he tries not to collapse into you. You pull him closer loving the grounding feel of his body against yours as you both come down trying to catch your breath. 

  As you drift off to sleep you know you’ll have fun explaining those marks tomorrow. 

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated

[mylevisdontfitanymore]

Bucky fattened by a frat as a mascot of some kind? Starts pretty big when he’s a freshman, already pushing 400 — come what would have been his final year and it takes a couple bros to turn him over to fuck. Ah I dunno just free use immobile blob Bucky who’s an absolute cockslut, he’ll do anything so long as he gets as much food as he wants? Pledges have to attend to him 24/7, that includes his bi-hourly funnel feeding, a litre or so of shake every other hour?

Anyway, maybe Steve was his first attendant? Both freshman, Steve was made to feed him and please him and serve him, and now he’s head of the frat or however they work.

Anyway there’s the rambling done waddaya think?

You should check out "teamwork" by caloriebomb!!

I keep, in particular, thinking about this part:

“Steve made this coffeecake just for the team,” Clint said, and levered another vast slice onto Bucky's plate. “You can't make him feel bad by not eating it.” “I'm fucking full,” Bucky said. “I can barely breathe.” But of course, he ate it. And he ate more bacon, too, and let them give him the last chocolate chip muffin, and he drank another glass of milk, and ate another slice of heavily-buttered bread, and, to hell with it, finished off the rest of the bacon entirely. He was moaning a little by the time he was done, shameless in his discomfort, his belly almost hard to the touch and so heavy he felt pinned down by it. “For good luck,” Sam said, and rubbed his belly, and then Clint followed suite, and suddenly Bucky was inundated with a line of football players all trying to get their hands on his swollen gut, and Thor was shouting, “Our good luck charm! Our good luck Buck!” and honestly it felt too good to protest, and he was so stuffed he could barely speak anyway, so he just sat there and let it happen, weighed down by his enormous breakfast and the unbendable dome of his throbbing tummy.

I do, really, really love this idea, though. I keep picturing one of those big snorlax plushies with the huge tummies and short little legs.

Like, c'mon, that is Bucky.

Unbeta'd, you know how it is, warning for Bucky-centric belly kink filth. Implied stucky? Stuffing, funnel feeding, immobility, alcohol consumption, intox kink, slight come inflation, etc.

Or, that's what Bucky turns into after he's hazed and then pledges, and is officially a member of his frat 👀

He absolutely is a big boy going in, but after he's been in for a few years, nearing the end of his college days, he's packed on more than the freshman 15, by far.

After being constantly stuffed and fed and fucked by his bros, he's unbelievably round. So round that his stomach floods between his far spread thick thighs, forcing them apart, and it rests on top of those thick, heavy thighs, leaving him without the ability to stand without help. Really, he can hardly maneuver around it - his belly, that is. It's so heavy. It's always so full. Hell, he can't get his fucking arms around it now! He can't shut his legs, either. Not that that matters when his frat bros are always trying to get them wider, anyhow, using his hole when they can manage to roll Bucky over onto his enormous gut, or just fucking any of his many, many rolls.

He's soft and irresistible all over.

Fat on fat on fat.

Stacking up.

He's overflowing with fat. He's impossibly fat. So much so that when his bros try their best to use their gym-honed muscles - biceps flexing - to lift his massive belly, they sweat and grunt but simply can't always squeeze their arms in between his rolls enough to find his cock. It's buried. Not that Bucky's cock matters to him much now... he gets more than enough pleasure without a finger laid on him there. There's enough pressure and friction from his own fat. He can grind against himself. And his belly is more than sensitive enough. Always bloated tight and packed even fuller. Just touching his gut is enough to make him come.

Whenever the guys can't roll him over - either because there's not enough helping hands around the house at the time, or Bucky is too full to flip, heavier than usual and making sounds like a beached whale, protesting, lest he throw up - they end up fucking all his excess fat. They fuck his love handles and stacking up sides. Plush. They fuck his moobs. Overflowing and flabby and deliciously sensitive, especially those stretched out, hard nipples. They fuck where his belly flops onto his thick, spilled-out thigh. They fuck his belly. They fuck his beanbag like belly.

Heavy.

Thick.

Blubber that rolls like waves when they get going, really into fucking their mascot, and the thrusts push out burps and groans and heavy, gasping breaths from Bucky. He can't handle it. It feels almost as good as being fucked in his hole. He loves having his belly fucked, even if it presses on his stuffed stomach, walking the line of being too much. Pleasure that almost hurts.

Bucky loves it, though.

Even when he's about to pop, bursting at the seams, unable to stifle the hiccups and burps and deep groans bubbling up from his sloshing tummy with how hard he's being jostled, fucked and toyed with however his bros want. Maybe especially then.

Or, no, the best is when they're all home after a party. When the party upstairs has wound down and all his bros are drunk, not yet passing out or fully blackout drunk, but when they're lose enough that their rougher sides come out. Then, they're rowdy from the pounding music, drinks, and crowded, sweaty bodies, and they all seem to share a single thought, needing to use him; needing to fill him; needing to lavish their lucky and greedy mascot with attention after leaving him alone in the basement for the party. Their dirty little secret. Their sweating, panting, growing mascot.

If Bucky's any mascot, he's a pig.

A big, fat pig.

A pig who's always shoveling food into his mouth with his fat hands, his fat chin doubling and thick throat bobbing with each massive mouthful. Never satisfied.

They're going to satisfy him...

After a party, they're all always hard, barely contained in their jeans and gym shorts - unashamedly obvious. Their faces are flushed, eyes hungry, and lips loose and wet. Beer on their breath. Crowding around him. Everyone is aching to touch. He's so soft. So big. So heavy. So fat.

Now, the fraternity make sure to buy more beer and snacks than a party could ever take down for the sole purpose of feeding their pet pig afterward. They know where they always end up.

Every. single. time.

They tear apart the whole house for Bucky. Not just demolishing the party supplies. Everything. Everything is fair game. They feed him chips and dips and kegs of beer and pizza and all that junk. And then...

And then, they break out the protein powders and blenders and make shake after shake after shake for Bucky.

Weight gain shakes.

None of the protein is going to turn into anything but fat. Bucky doesn't move. Bucky is just a ball.

Bucky is a mascot, a pet - a fun, fat, soft toy for them to use. They'll be fucking him sloppy and messy, after a party, and will forget to keep feeding him. Then. That's what Bucky moans for. He doesn't want to come. No. He wants more.

More food.

God.

More.

He begs so much, so greedy, that they have to feed him to shut him up. And when they do run out of things to feed him, there's nothing to be done but shoving their dicks down his throat and coming, filling him up that way, if he's just so desperate to be full.

He is.

He's so desperate to be full.

And every time he is full, he's not just full. He's overfull. Meaning... next time, he'll be able to take just that much more, ever-increasing his huge stomach capacity 🥵

[sinner-as-saint]

Night Hours

Mob!Bucky x Reader

Run-through: Bucky wakes you up in the middle of the night because he can’t sleep, and he knows you can help with that. 

Themes: fluff, smut

a/n: just a little something before i get started on my assignments ily. 

You sensed movement behind you. Followed by a strong, muscular arm circling around your waist and pulling you into a warm, taut chest. 

You waited, waited for the pair of soft lips. And eventually, they found their way to you; kissing your shoulder, along your neck, your jaw and behind your ear. You felt a warm, soft puff of air fanning the side of your face and you stirred, pushing your butt back into the warm body behind you. 

You heard a soft groan. “Are you awake, baby?” His sleepy voice asked, deep and chest rumbling as he spoke. 

Fuck, that voice itself was your undoing. It took you a few seconds to open your eyes and blink away the sleep and the first thing you noted was the way his fingers were slowly tracing imaginary shapes on your skin. You immediately knew where this was headed. 

“Bucky… it’s two in the morning.” You stated. 

He chuckled softly, leaning in closer to press a kiss on the shell of your ear. You shivered and he noticed. “So you are awake.” 

You couldn’t help but melt under his touch. “No, you woke me up. There’s a difference.” You were quick to reply. 

“Whatever. But now that you’re awake....” he trailed off as his hand lowered, and lowered until his fingers found themselves in between your legs again. 

Your body came alive instantly, recognizing his touch. Your back arched against him, pushing your butt more into him. Just a few hours ago, you both had fucked until you were worn out and now here he was - insatiable still. 

“Bucky…” You meant for it to come out as a reprimand but it came out as a pathetic moan. Behind you, Bucky chuckled again as he slowly, lazily pushed his knee in between your legs, separating them as his fingers explored your skin. 

“Hey,” he nipped at your shoulder. “I can’t sleep, and all I want is for my wife to give me some warmth and love, and attention, is it too much to ask?” He asked, lips brushing against your skin. 

You sighed, leaning more into his touch, your body betraying you by grinding your hips against his hand, urging him to give you more. “No it’s not…” Your voice was barely a whisper. 

He hummed. “That’s what I thought.” 

“Whatever. I’m too lazy to move though. Help yourself.” You murmured as you slumped back against him, wanting his touch more than anything but you were also tiptoeing on the fine line between fighting to stay awake and giving in to sleep. 

Oh. He was more than happy too. “Thank you, baby.” He kissed your ear again and parted your thighs even more as he pressed his naked lower body against yours, sliding his cock inside of you. He groaned once he slipped his cock all the way in and you whined in pleasure as he filled you up. 

You waited for him to move but he didn’t. Just the length and size of him stretching you deliciously. He was completely still, except for the delicate movement of his body as he breathed in and out. You, on the other hand, were desperately trying to get some friction. Just something, anything. 

You moved your hips forward a little bit, and then moved back, his cock sliding just an inch or two in and out of you as a result; making you moan shamelessly. You did that again, and again and despite it all, he refused to move. 

Your sleep was chased away by your desire by now, you were desperate. For him, his cock. A dark chuckle from him sent shivers down your spine. 

“Look at you, like a little kitten in heat. Desperately trying to fuck yourself on my cock.” Arrogant words, followed by a gentle kiss on your shoulder. You trembled. “Didn’t you say you were too lazy to move? What happened now?” You could hear the triumph in his voice. 

You should’ve known. Your husband and his wicked games. 

“Please…” You whined, knowing you couldn’t win this one. You needed him, bad. “Buck, please… I need you.” 

He cooed, mocking you. “Aww, are you begging for my cock, baby? At two in the morning?” He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “You shameless, absolutely incorrigible and insatiable woman…” he teased as he licked along your neck, his hand moving gently in between your legs again; rubbing slow, deliberate circles around your throbbing clit. 

You were an absolute mess; his hands, his words, his cock - too much all once. You begged, please, please, please. And he chuckled at each one of your pleas, earning more and more out of you as he teased you until you were wide awake with nothing but filth on your mind. 

He still wasn’t moving, kept his cock snug inside of you. His self-control was something you admired. He could be desperately craving something, anything, but he would still find a way to have someone, anyone, offer it up to him on a platter as though he had been entitled to it for the moment he laid eyes on it, or even thought about it. Your husband’s power to take control was truly remarkable. 

And right now, even though he wanted you, he wanted you to want him even more. He wanted you to shamelessly beg for it. He needed to hear you begging him to fuck you however he desired. 

Your pleas were getting louder, and louder. 

He murmured, “Shh, baby. The guards are gonna think you’re in trouble…” he paused, smirking against your skin, “Or worse, they’re gonna know what an immoral woman you are, begging for my cock at two in the morning.” And you could hear the cockiness in his voice, because that was exactly what he wanted. To make it seem like you were the one who had desperately woken him up from deep slumber at two in the morning just because you were hungry for his cock. 

You let out a strained moan which sounded a lot like a growl, and Bucky was amused. “I hate you sometimes.” 

Your husband chuckled. “Is that so?” He found that rather funny. “Is that why you’re hopelessly trying to fuck yourself on my cock? Is that why my name is falling off your lips like a prayer? My God, you must loathe me entirely.” 

He moved just the tiniest bit and your face burned when you realized just how wantonly you had moaned for him. You whined and pushed back into him, unable to take it anymore. “Buck… baby, I’m- I need you. Please, please… I don’t care that it’s two in the morning, I need you to fuck me. Right now.” You sounded like you were on the verge of tears, which you might have been because you were frustrated. 

He chuckled, knowing he’s won. “Anything for you, my love. Anything.” 

Bucky grunted as he moved out of you, and in less than a few seconds he flipped you onto your front and lifted your hips up in the air. He slid inside of you again, effortlessly. And the two of you moaned in unison as he filled you up again, your walls already gripping him tightly as if they could hold him in if he tried to tease you again and leave you hanging. 

You swore as Bucky moved his hips against you, slipping in and out of you with ease. Soon, he was slamming into you; his movement animalistic and unrestrained. Gone was the Bucky who had just spent the past half an hour teasing you until it felt like you would lose your mind, this Bucky was relentless, taking what he wanted how he wanted it. 

“Buck…” You whined, trying to meet his thrusts but you gave up because you knew that would be futile. So you just let him pleasure you. Bucky slammed in and out of you continuously, moaning and grunting in the process. The tears finally fell as the pleasure became too much to handle; and you felt a familiar pressure forming in between your legs.

“You feel so good, baby…” Bucky murmured as he increased his pace; ramming into you mercilessly. Your thoughts were a mess yet again as you felt your vision getting blurry with each passing second. You squirmed in pleasure as both his hands gripped your hips, pulling you into him, hard, each time he filled you up.

His cock reaching all your sensitive spots, Bucky knew just what made you tick and he used them all to his advantage; rendering you completely open to him, in more ways than one. He fucked you, not bothering about the fact that both your moans and groans must have filled the house by now. 

He didn’t care, all he wanted was to make you scream his name as loud as possible. Simply because he could. He sped up, rocking his hips harder against your; his hand reached around to grab your throat gently. He squeezed gently, speeding up into you. You gripped the bed sheets as he pounded into you. 

Your walls constricted around him, hard enough to make him go faster. 

The closer he felt his release coming and the filthier his mouth got. “This pretty little cunt is mine. Mine, you hear me?” He spoke, almost growling and causing goosebumps to erupt all over your body. “I’m gonna wake you up in the middle of the night just to fuck you,...” he groaned at how his filthy words made you clench harder around him, “Because I can.” Bucky pounded into you harder than before; the sounds of your skin slapping one another resonated around the modest room. 

He took you higher, and higher, and higher until you felt more tears escape your eyes. “Baby…” you were breathless, unable to form coherent words as he fucked you silly. 

He knew what you meant. He always did. “Go on, baby. Cum for me.” 

You let the pressure build inside you, before simply letting go, unable to hold back anymore. More hot tears streamed down your face as Bucky kept pounding into you, your eyes rolled back and you moaned out loud as you came. He didn’t slow down as you felt your orgasm wash over you, chasing his own. 

He came with a loud groan, filling you up with his cum yet again. He remained still for a moment, feeling your creamy walls clench violently around him. 

His. All his. 

He gasped as he pressed you down on the bed before spooning you again, your bodies still connected. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he caught his breath. With his cock still buried in you, you could feel his racing heartbeat; both against your back and against your sensitive walls. 

He kissed your shoulder over and over again, finally pulling the covers over the two of you. You searched for his hand and placed your warm one on top of his, and he almost purred into your ear at the simple, affectionate gesture. 

“I’m sorry I woke you up, angel.” He murmured into your head. “I just… needed you. I’m sorry.” 

You smiled, allowing sleep to finally take over you. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay, I love you.” You mumbled, “Now please get some sleep.”

[wreckmetoji]

idfc

An ongoing fic in which you don't realize you have both Fushiguros at your feet.

↳ Toji Fushiguro/Reader Part 2/?

Part 1 , Part 3 , Part 4

content warning. shameless smut, profanity, size kink, age gap, afab reader, fingering, squirting This is part two of a several part story revolving around smut. **Minors DNI**

Length 1.7k words

The predatory grin that split his face made you surge with fear and delight, watching his scar pull taught in the most deliciously tantalizing way. "Why don't I show you?"

His eyes were sharp, and you could tell he was aware of every subtle shift, every tense of your muscles. Knowing that, the way you parted your thighs for him ever so slightly seemed to be enough of a response. You squeaked, effortlessly being lifted from your seat and placed on the cool countertop, the legs of the chair scraping against hardwood flooring. Even with the sudden change of position, Toji was nearly half a head taller than you at his full height. You briefly wondered if that reflected anywhere else on his body... Strong hips pushed between your thighs, leaving little room for imagination as his muscle hardened body pressed up against your front, lush green eyes grazing your lips, down to your breasts, then back up to catch your own gaze. Your mind was spinning a mile a minute, he was so close you could smell the mint on his breath poorly covering up the cigarette he had on his drive over. "Do you mind, princess?" Toji took your chin in a firm grip between his thumb and forefinger, tauntingly wagging your shock-slackened face. His thumb that was previously purchased only an inch lower stroked your bottom lip. Your head was so foggy you almost missed the question, shamelessly shaking your head quickly when you realized he was speaking to you. He wasn't as rough as you expected him to be when he kissed you. You had expected brute force, and although there was force, there was a kind of gentleness to it, like he was trying to coax something out of you. It didn't take much for you to give in to his subtle request, tongues brushing gently, eliciting an excited shiver down your spine. You hadn't noticed your white-knuckle grip on the countertop under you until Toji brought the fingers gripping your chin to your wrist, guiding your hand dangerously low on his black clad torso. He parted from you, close enough to feel your stuttered breaths, but far enough to take in your flustered appearance. "You're actin' like you're expecting me to rip a chunk out of you," Toji gibed, letting go of your wrist and setting both hands low on your hips. "I wouldn't unless you asked me to, you can loosen up sweetheart." "Well I can't exactly say I've prepared to be in this situation." "Mm, but you've thought about it, haven't you? Dirty girl." It was more of a statement than a question, he saw straight through your well behaved facade. You swallowed the words caught in your throat, unable to deny it. Toji didn't seem to want a response, like he knew the answer already, and dove back in for another kiss. This was was more what you were expecting, it made your head spin. Your hand moved slowly, feeling every ridge underneath the stretched out fabric as it traveled up, making home on his broad shoulder. Your other hand quickly found his upper bicep, feeling the muscles flex when he gave your hips a squeeze. What you hadn't expected was his sudden display of strength, one arm lifting you from the counter while the other all but ripped your shorts from your legs. Quickly parting from Toji, you look at him in awe.

"I'd like to be gentle, but seeing you so messed up this morning... got me thinking how fuckin' wrecked you’ll look when I'm done with you." He spoke low, eyes peeking through black strands dangerously.

"Is that a promise, or a threat?" "All depends on you, sweetheart." With no more words exchanged, Toji took quick strides and carried you over to the couch, dropping you down with a little less grace than you had desired. You let out a quick exhale, barely being able to recover the breath you lost when he immediately climbed on top of you and dove back in for a bruising kiss. Using one hand to hold himself up, Toji used the other to run up your thigh, trace the hem of your underwear, deliberately avoiding the ache between your thighs that was desperately needing attention. It continued upwards, bringing your shirt up with it, stopping only once it was pulled over your now exposed bust. Amidst the languid strokes of his tongue against your own, you felt a low hum of approval that reverberated through you and shot straight to the growing heat between your legs. "Nothing underneath? It's like you were waiting for me," He whispered against your lips. "Why would I wear a bra in my own home? Don't flatter yourself, Mister Fushiguro." You quipped back, almost immediately regretting your words. The hand hiking your shirt up shot to your throat, holding it firmly enough to be uncomfortable, but not nearly tight enough to choke you. Your hands moved quickly to grab his arm, but his empty hand intercepted the intrusion and pinned them above your head. "Watch your mouth if you know whats good for you, doll." You felt ashamed his threat made your pussy throb. It subsided slightly when he removed his hand from your neck. To get his point across, Toji leaned down and bit down on your pulse point just below your jawline, dragging something between a gasp and whine from your throat. Tracing his slick tongue over the reddened skin, he moved down agonizingly slow, grazing over your bunched up shirt, and settling over one of your already hardened nipples. You could see the look on his face, smug, like he was saying already this excited? It didn't take him long to make quick work of his mouth, circling your nipple with his tongue before grazing his teeth over the perked bud, coaxing a whine from you. He didn't stay long, quickly moving to the other nipple and giving it a more thorough treatment. He used his skillful hands to pinch and roll the other, his fingers moving expertly to pull as much sound out of you as possible. His smirk against your skin didn't go unnoticed as he sucked your nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue and tugging gently with his teeth, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing how badly you needed him. Toji seemed to take your sudden silence as defiance, something even you knew he had zero tolerance for. Fingers abandoned toying with your pert nipple, tracing a line on your skin as he moved down to your underwear, pressing the pad of his middle finger against your surprisingly wet panties. Detaching himself from you and using the hand trapping your wrists, he pushed himself up to take a look at you. Toji whistled, now using both index and middle finger to give your clothed pussy languid strokes. "Already this wet, you dirty little thing? You've been waiting for this," He mused. You avoided eye contact, turning your head to look at the back of the couch, the pressure on your wrists releasing. You would ask him what he was doing if he hadn't gripped your cheeks in his hand, forcing you to look at him. "I want you to watch me fuck you with my fingers." His hands worked in time with his voice, yanking your underwear down one leg, leaving it dangle on your other ankle. There was no time to come up with a witty remark, your back arching as he plunged a thick finger in to the last knuckle, pumping at a steady pace. "I want you to look at me as you cum." Toji quickly added a second finger, your moans and whines growing quickly in pitch as he forced you to face him. His expression was unchanging, dark eyes blown with lust and mouth pulled into a firm line. You couldn't look away even if you wanted to. He scissored his fingers, stretching you out to make room for a third, and it was just as quickly added as the others. His skilled thumb came to your clit, rubbing in a quick, circular motion that had you seeing stars. It was too much stimulation all at once, and your expression was quick to change, mouth dropping open and eyes rolling back. "I wish I could take a picture of your pretty fuckin' face." Toji grinned. You felt your walls start to pulse, your legs tensing and shaking from the intensity of your upcoming orgasm. "T-Toji, it'sh too mush... I'm-!" You slurred your words, cheeks being squeezed tighter between his strong hand as he forced your face closer to his. "You can take it." He left no room for convincing. He didn't have to. "Cum for me." As your orgasm violently ripped through your entire body, you could have sworn your vision whited out for just a fraction of a second. You didn't realize you had screamed, your pussy seizing and pulsing around his fingers that were fucking you through your orgasm. He didn't seem to care that your eyes were rolled too far back in your head to be able to look at him while you came down from your high. "Goddamn princess, you're a squirter huh?" Toji removed his fingers from inside you, squishing your cheeks to garner your attention. "Look at the mess you made." "I've... never..." You whispered, chest heaving from the intensity. The way he licked between his fingers had your throbbing cunt silently begging for more. Once you caught your breath, you felt the slight ache already washing over your body. Toji didn't give you time to relax, immediately stripping himself of his shirt and untying the strings on his sweats. His body was something you'd only seen in your dreams, every muscle well defined, although littered with scars. When you made eye contact, he couldn't hold back his chortle at your bewildered expression. "Oh, sweetheart, did you think we were done?" He jeered, using one hand to shove his pants and boxers down to his knees, letting his incredibly heavy cock bounce free. It drooped under its sheer girth and size. You came to a quick conclusion that had he not prepared you how he did, there was no fucking way his dick would fit. "Doll, we're just getting started."

[colemonroe]

“I’m here for a good time, not for a long time,” was his chuckled response to her actually suggesting he switch over to sweeteners. As if. He’d die before that happened. Lifting a brow, he peered up at her, a playful smile tugging at his lips because quite frankly, if a carrot was dangled on a string right in front of him for long enough, there wasn’t a part of him that wouldn’t go for it. “Don’t tempt me, ya know I’ll do it,” he cautioned, flashing her a quick wink, though it was mostly in jest. Truthfully, Cole was just happy to have this back— the effortless banter that had always passed between them, crude or otherwise. Needless to say, he’d missed it over the last couple months, and while his reasons for toning it down had been valid, he was glad he didn’t need to resort to that anymore. 

Taliah was one of the few who could talk sense to Cole whenever he was so deeply embroiled in one of his mental battles. She had this way of untangling the mess his own thoughts tended to create for himself and helping him find the logic in situations that ordinarily had none. This was no different, and while his default was to blame himself and shoulder the weight of that, Taliah helped him look at it all in a different light and suddenly? That weight didn’t feel quite so crushing anymore. “Ya ain’t wrong,” he relented with a soft sigh. Everything Taliah was saying was true— if Cassie had truly desired his help, she would have asked him for it. Nate had told him something similar the night he’d found the letters— maybe it was high time Cole allowed himself grace and believed that. “At the end of the day, I just want her to clean up and be healthy. Still care about her, y’know? That part hasn’t changed,” Cole murmured, glancing up at her before adding, “I just ain’t gonna be there if and when it happens.” It was his way of declaring that whatever they’d been was over, regardless of how Cassie’s recovery went. He still cared about her, human to human, but the damage was done. If and when she ever did resurface, Cole Monroe wouldn’t be there to greet her. He wanted it known that for however poorly he was dealing with this, he wasn’t caught up in someone he used to know and he wouldn’t be fooled by her a third time.

“Ain’t gonna catch me disagreein’,” Cole grinned wide, giving her yet another shameless once over as a warm chuckle rumbled in his chest. She was beautiful, he’d always thought so, and he’d never shied away from telling her, because at a young age, Diana had instilled one simple rule within him: if you see something beautiful, say it. Keeping his arms tucked around her as she worked on the cut above his eye, he let his lids fall closed, already knowing she’d hate what he was saying and would absolutely let him know. He didn’t want to see the disapproval too. Hearing it in the way she called his name was enough. It was only after he felt her hands settle against his sides that he finally opened his eyes. His baby blues meeting her warm brown, he frowned almost immediately upon impact, “I’m sorry, darlin’,” he murmured, knowing this wasn’t easy for her to hear even if he did genuinely believe it to be true. He’d always thought that he must be hard to love, otherwise the entire trajectory of his life would have looked vastly different. But that didn’t mean he discounted what Taliah was saying. Just because he couldn’t wrap his own heart and mind around it didn’t mean there wasn’t any truth to it. In fact, it warmed him endlessly to hear how she regarded him, so much so that he lifted one of his hands to her face, gently cupping her cheek in his palm, “I’m glad ya think that— means ya see somethin’ that I don’t, or I just can’t yet,” he started, offering up a brief smile, “And that’s okay, ‘cause I believe that you believe it, T. And that’s enough for me right now.” 

Between the kiss to his cheek and how proud Taliah was of the clever lines she’d fired off, Cole found himself grinning wide, unable to help the way he fell right into that warm, magnetic pull she’d always had. “Very good– you’re a regular poet and ya didn’t even know it. I’d snap for ya like they do at them fancy open mic nights if my knuckles weren’t screamin’,” he teased, wincing slightly as he tried to mold his bruised hand into a fist. Holding onto her a bit tighter, Cole shifted on the sink, leaning into her embrace. “Mmm, maybe,” he chuckled at her suggestion that he could be simple if he wanted to be. Easing back when she did, Cole kept his arms hugged around her but darted a look around, “It is,” simple, that was, and Cole didn’t pretend not to know why. It was because Taliah had made it so. By simply being who she was, she’d lifted so much of what he was feeling and had given him this one easy moment to latch onto. “But then again, me and you always have been,” he pointed out, gaze landing back on hers. It was just the way their friendship had always worked. “Even if does kinda smell like shit in here,” he added, cringing slightly even as a warm laughter sputtered out of him, “Next time we have a heart to heart, can we pick a better spot?” 

"You should swap to sweeteners before you end up a type 2." Narrowing her eyes, there was still a playful glimmer there as she knew fine and well he'd never give it up. She supposed that would be like someone asking her to give up strawberry laces, it just wasn't going to happen. "Maybe I do, go ahead, pick, left or right," pointing to her own cleavage with a quiet chuckle. "If you find it, you've got yourself half a lotto win, if you don't, mm... I'd say you've still won." Taliah says in jest, realizing there was no longer any need to filter herself around him. She only did so out of respect for the fact he had a girlfriend, in spite of the fact they both knew it was just harmless banter. Well, most of the time. So was she sad that he was hurting? Of course, but was she silently happy that she could go back to the way they had always been? Absolutely. She would be lying if she said she hadn't missed holding his hand, fussing around his hair, the little squeezes that were, at this point, much like their own secret language.

Soft hands tended to the cut on his head & in all fairness, now the blood was clear he was right, it didn't need stitches. Not that it meant she wasn't going to stick a couple on anyway, it certainly wouldn't harm. Stealing a glance at him, she could sense the 'but' coming before he even spoke it. "... It isn't that black and white. I'm sure you made all that very clear, Cole, it's just sometimes not that simple. Or easy. There's a difference between knowing she could have talked to you and wanting to. Unfortunately, her will to slip was stronger than her will to fight & that's not a battle you could have fought for her. Even though I know given the chance, you would, and I'm positive she knew that too." She was sure of it and hoped by voicing it, Cole could see she wasn't just trying to blow smoke up his ass. Taliah was always the first to call things for what they were, even if that meant upsetting people. Honesty was better to hear from a friend who could lay it out for you and pick you up afterward, was it not?

"I look hot in everything, sir." She mocks, picking up the butterfly stitches. As his hands come to rest around her waist, she shuffles her feet forward, stepping further into the gap between his legs. "It isn't," selfish. Taliah mutters, just about to gently press a stitch to his eye when he says he doesn't blame her. Confused brown eyes pause just to glance into his, silent but obviously prompting him to explain further. She already didn't like wherever he was going with this, though she couldn't say she was surprised. Cole was always far too hard on himself, she learned that pretty early on in their relationship. Pulling in a deep breath, she looks back to her task, sticking on the stitches, pressing them into place. "Cole..." She protests, though in a quiet and obviously saddened tone. It wasn't to interrupt him, not purposely anyway - it was like word vomit that just came out. Hearing him say he wasn't easy to love? It hurt, especially with the conviction with which he spoke, the lack of doubt in his tone hadn't gone unnoticed.

The breath she was holding exhales, hands now coming down to rest at his upper sides. "It hurts my feelings when you say things like that." She whispers, knowing it wasn't the point, that as he'd said, he wasn't looking for her to disagree. But she did and so of course, she wasn't just going to say nothing and let him think for a second that she thought he was right. "You're only half right. Your life isn't the typical blue-collar, white picket fence shit, and yeah, that's a lot, too much for some people. But you're wrong about not being easy to love. The two don't go hand in hand the way you think they do. Your heart decides who you love, but your mind chooses whether it takes on their life too. At least that's what I believe, and I believe that it's only after choosing to do that... Well, then they go hand in hand, because that's what you signed up for." Tilting her head to the side, she shakes it. "It proves nothing. Bumps in the road are lessons to learn from on the way to a destination far greater." Taliah leans forward, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Note that down, I just pulled those words out of my ass but wow, they're good, right?" She chirps a lighter tone, offering him a little wink. "Come here, I don't care that you're sweaty." She giggles, pulling him in and squeezing tightly.

"You can be a simple man if you want to be, simplicity isn't something that has to apply to every part of your life. You can adapt it to the quieter moments. Like these," leaning back, she shrugs a shoulder and glances around the dim bathroom stall. "This, right now... This is simple, isn't it?" Simple, easy & hopefully a little peaceful for him too, to just be here with someone familiar and comforting.

[herawell]

Here are my headcanons about Bharata and Mandavi's marriage (copied and pasted from my last-night Discord dump):

So Rama & Lakshmana go to Mithila, Rama wins Sita in the swayamvara (and she chooses him too if you take her lifting the shiv dhanush as canon) and although there's nothing to support it, I hc that Lakshmana and Urmila married out of having siimlar fiery tempers and both adoring their elder sibling

So Rama/Sita and Lakshmana/Urmila happen out of love. By contrast, BHarata/Mandavi and Shatrughan/Shrutakirti have their marriages arranged bc it's convenient to have Ayodhya's 4 princes marry Mithila's 4 princesses.

I don't think Bharata/Mandavi had a bad relationship by any means, simply that their marriage didn't begin with a soul-deep connection the way R/S did, or with a spark the way L/U did.

THeir marriage was one of convenience (at first).

Now in order to fully appreciate my hcs, I need to talk about BHarata's family tree. Some versions have a backstory that Aswapati, Kaikeyi's father, had the ability to talk to animals but per a curse, could not reveal this knowledge to anyone else on pain of death. One day, Kaikeyi's mother heard him talking to some swans/birds and wanted to know what he was saying. Tl;dr she wouldn't back down and he banished her that day

Aswapati and his wife had 8 kids together (7 boys + Kaikeyi) yet she demanded to know a secret that would be his death & he exiled her.

WHich led to Manthara, her wet nanny, becoming Kaikeyi's mother figure. Kaikeyi grew up to be a warrior and saved Dasharatha's life in battle by acting as his charioteer. Yet when she gets married, she has to put all that aside and she's expected to produce a child (which she fails to do first). She's his favorite wife, but at the expense of her individuality & martial skills. And her childhood trauma leaves her terrified of losing his favor/place. The only leverage she has over him is those two boons. In my headcanon, Dasharatha and Kaikeyi loved each other fiercely, but they never communicated their fears/expectations, which led to Kaikeyi's panic on day. She once saved his life in battle, yet she ended up demanding an unspeakable oath from him, and he died loathing and cursing her.

Then there's Rama/Sita. They loved each other enough to go into exile and fight wars for each other, yet he put her through one (almost two) Agni Parikshas, exiled her while pregnant, and ultimately drove her to commit bhumipravesh.

So Bharata comes from a long line of marriages that were based in love but did not work out.

(I also hc Lakshmana/Urmila undergoing a very rough patch after he helps exiles Sita without telling anyone.)

In contrast, there's Bharata and mandavi. A lot of versions have him living at Nandigram while she wastes away in the palace, which... . It makes no sense for her to be alone in the palace just a few miles away, especially when Bharata wants to emulate Rama,who took his wife with him. So I hc that they went to Nandigram together, and there, when they had lost almost their entire family and had the burden of a kingdom suddenly thrust on their shoulders, they had no choice but to lean on each other, and in doing so, their marriage became one of true respect, companionship, and love.

THere's no real canonical support for like 80% of this, but I just love the idea that out of all the marriages that didn't work out in Rmy, here's one that was arranged, but ended up stronger than many of the others.

And because I wanted someone to end up happy.

I also hc that post-Uttarakanda, this is especially important, because Bharata has some complicated thoughts about Rama's decisions, and his marriage to Mandavi has to be especially strong to weather them. (Shameless self-promotion of the fic I wrote exploring this: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26334817)

[qqueenofhades]

Thanks so much for your posts re: the Russia-Ukraine war, they are very eye-opening!

I'm Hungarian and its just so bizarre and frustrating to see that for the outside world Orban pretends to work with the EU, condemning the Russian invasion...meanwhile M1, the state's largest tv channel (controlled 100% by the government) is straight up shouting Kremlin propaganda 24/7. God forbid we confuse the loyal voters by presenting Putin in a bad light all of a sudden...cos "this whole mess was provoked by NATO and the US and the weak Ukrainian president...Ukraine deserves its fate for the genocide they commited in the Donetsk & Luhansk regions...and for treating the Hungarian ethnic minority the way they do" (which is/was...shitty. Do they deserve this war tho? Hell no.)

Anyway its scary how more and more ppl start parroting these lines in my country too, some even approving of the invasion (spitting at the memory of the '56 revolution altogether)...your posts are like a breath of fresh air after checking some fb comments.

Aha, thanks. And thanks in turn for the Hungarian perspective, as it really doesn't surprise me to hear that Orban is trying to have his cake and eat it too. He is obviously the head of the EU state that is closest to Putin and might have been able to block sanctions, but since he has (as far as I recall) an election in the spring and a strong coalition opposing him from across the political spectrum, he needs to get those international-statesman brownie points and present himself as a moderate and trusted leader who's working with the rest of the EU team. Likewise, he's evil but not stupid, and can see that the political and international wind is almost unanimously blowing against Russia/Putin, so he doesn't want to make himself a pariah. Hence the announcements that he will support all the EU sanctions and oppose the war, while apparently (as you say) continuing to let the media broadcast Kremlin propaganda, so as not to stir the pot too much.

It'll be interesting, if nothing else, to see how this affects the strongman/isolationist aspirations of states like Poland and Hungary, which have been trying to separate themselves from the legal and cultural framework of the EU and turning ever more authoritarian in their governance. But Poland (for obvious reasons) fucking hates Russia and is pulling its weight during this crisis, and even if Orban is self-serving to the extreme and can't go too far off the ledge right now, I suppose we can thank him (if nothing else) for not blocking the full imposition of EU sanctions. Putin was counting on support from China, India, and Brazil at least (all of whom either abstained, in the case of China/India, or voted yes, in the case of Brazil) on the UN Security Council resolution condemning the attack; all of those countries obviously have hard-right authoritarian leaders who might be expected to cheer on this shameless power grab, but they can see that there is no advantage to be had from allying with him on this. Aside from Orban, the Czech president (Zeman) has been a big Putin booster who is publically recanting; whether he actually believes it or not doesn't matter, because it demonstrates that self-serving people can see it's better not to look too cozy right now. And Germany and Italy, who were previously against cutting Russia out of SWIFT, are markedly softening their stances. Germany is even lifting its long-standing ban on exporting German-made weapons to conflict zones, in order to send more equipment to Ukraine. Meanwhile Sweden and Finland, long-standing neutral countries, are openly pondering NATO membership despite Russian threats. Welp.

All of that is to say that this is continuing to backfire on Putin systematically, entirely, and on every level, whether politically, militarily, or diplomatically, and we need to continue to hammer that fact as much as possible. Those reports about secret-fortress rants are claiming that he thought this would be over in four days, max, and it's already entering its fourth day. The longer Ukraine can hold out, the more it boosts morale. So yeah, the bad actors of the world (i.e. Orban) didn't stop being bad, but if even they can see there's nothing to be gained from backing Putin and that it's more strategic to at least present the appearance of international cooperation, that says a lot.

[anonymousfiction211]

A plaything

Summary:

You attend a feast in honour of Prince Thor. You are bored and plan to leave. However, Loki has different plans.

Word count:

2.771 words

Warning:

Swearing and shameless smut

You looked around the room, trying to find some entertainment. But this party was the same as any other party, celebrating the return of one of the princes. The whole ballroom was decorated extravagant with silver cloths, red curtains and multiple chandeliers that were hanging from the ceiling. It was all dressed in the colours of Prince Thor. You always preferred the gold and dark green, which were Prince Loki’s colours. But Thor had returned home from a battle and apparently him not dying needed to be celebrated by every noble family. Including the noble family, you belonged too. You did not attend these parties very often, since your family stood very low in the hierarchy. And even if your family did get invited, your parents would often go themselves. But tonight, happened to be their anniversary, so you offered to go for them instead.  

The servants were currently clearing the last of the cutlery from the tables and pushing some tables around to make room for people to dance. You were still bored from the conversations you had to endure during dinner. It was always the same conversation, how other families were doing, if anything new happened (which was almost never) and praising the royal family for all they had done over the last time. You ordered another glass of wine, the open bar at these parties did make the whole thing slightly more bearable. Then you heard music playing and faced the dance floor to watch the opening dance. King Odin was dancing with his wife Frigga. After the dance ended more people made their way to the dance floor, while Odin and Frigga retreated. With that notion you decided to leave, when you had finished your drink. Since the king and queen left it would not be considered insulting to the royal family if you left early.

You started to down your drink. When your cup was empty you placed it back on the bar and gave the servant a genuine smile. Just when you turned around you heard him ask ‘Would you like another drink lady y/n?’. You turned back to decline the offer when you heard a low voice speaking ‘Yes she will, and I will have the same, please’. You annoyingly turned your head to see which guy had answered, when you saw Loki. Shit. You really wanted to go home but could not decline a prince. Argh.. just this one drink, which was already your fifth, stick to protocol, be polite and leave before you will do something stupid you thought. You quickly smiled at Loki ‘Thank you, my prince’. He gave you a quick smile back. ‘You are welcome, so what do you think of the celebration?’. You complemented the celebration, had the same sort of conversation you had with everybody else all night and drank your drink as fast as you could. When you finished your drink, you were about to excuse yourself and leave. That is when Loki extended his hand to you ‘Would you like to join me for a dance?’. The first thing you thought was I would rather do anything else right now, than dance with you. But you know you could not say that, so rather reluctantly you accepted his hand.

He led you to the dancefloor and he spinned and twirled you around. He did not say a word to you while you danced. He did keep his gaze on you the entire time. He moved gracefully and you started to admire some of his features. You were thankful when the dance ended, because now you finally had an opportunity to leave. ‘If you will excuse..’. But Loki cut you off and led you to a table with some snacks on it, and offered you one. Before you could finish it one of the servants had already brought the two of you a drink. At this point Loki was really getting on your nerves. You gave him one of your fakest smiles, hoping he will take the hint ‘My prince, it would be rude to deny your other guests to have the opportunity to talk to you tonight, it is already getting quite late and..’. He then cut you off again. ‘I find these events quite unbearable. Always the same dull conversations, nothing ever seems to happen. So, to get through them I like to find something to play with.’ You looked confused at him before saying ‘I am getting tired, I think I should leave early tonight’. He leaned a little closer to your ear and purred ‘You have been wanting to leave from the moment I saw you down your drink, but it can’t have my plaything leave early tonight’. He quickly took your hand and walked you over to the table where his brother was sitting with his friends. Before you could protest you heard him say ‘Thor, this is lady y/n, she is a little bored. Kindly take care of her, will you?’. And with that your evening was getting quite long. Thor made you play drinking games and told long stories about his battles. Every time you tried to leave Loki would suddenly show up with someone to talk to, dance with or with something to drink or eat. Every time he did you glared at him, which just made him smirk back at you. Bastard.

The evening would at least go on for another two hours, but you had far too much to drink. When Loki was nowhere to be seen you said goodbye to Thor and the rest of the table and left. You were relieved to be almost at the exit, but suddenly Loki appeared in front of you. To say he looked not amused, would be an understatement. ‘Where do you think you’re going?’ he growled. You took a step back, but he was already walking towards you. ‘I am going home, I wanted to leave for a very long time now. You’ve had your fun by torturing me all evening, now let me go home!’. Loki raised his hand and for a moment you thought he was going to slap you. Since you were being quite rude to royalty. Instead, he brushed your cheek with the back of his hand ‘But darling, you can’t leave until tomorrow.’ You sighed ‘And why not?’. He then looked at you with a dark look and grabbed your waist with both his hands ‘Because I am going to fuck you so hard you will not be able to walk until tomorrow.’ Hearing him say that in a lusty voice did something to you. Before you could answer you saw a green shimmer and you were not standing at the exit anymore.

He pulled you closer to him. He placed two of his fingers under your chin and made you look up at him. He closed the distant between your faces and his lips were now brushing yours. He did not break eye contact and his gaze softened a bit. You saw lust in his green eyes, and you swallowed in anticipation of what was to come. ‘May I?’ he asked. You nodded at him. He then pressed his lips against yours. Your lips move in sync with each other, like you have done this a hundred times before. He moved his hand from your chin to your neck to deepen the kiss. You felt his tongue against your lips, and you opened your mouth to let his tongue enter. Loki then started to kiss you more passionately, which made you moan. He broke the kiss and smirked at you. He put his hands on you butt and lifted you in one smooth motion. You squeaked a bit in surprise and instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. He started to walk with you and kiss your neck. The feeling of his lips on your skin made you breath faster. Then you felt his teeth sink into your flesh, just on the brink of pleasure and pain. You tightened his legs around him, making you feel his hardened cock through his pants.

He had walked you to his bed and laid you down on your back. He shimmered your clothes away and you lay naked before him. He took one of your nipples in his mouth and circled it with his tongue until it hardened. One of his hands was caressing the inside of your thighs. You quickly become a panting mess underneath him. He slipped one finger between your folds and felt how wet you already were. You moaned at the sensation. Loki suddenly stopped and looked deeply into your eyes. He takes his finger with your wetness on it in his mouth and started to suck it. The sight of him sucking his own finger made you tremble. You felt his knee lining up at your entrance putting a slight pressure on your clit. You let out a low moan and started to move your hips up and down, to create some friction. You grabbed his jacket and pulled it off. The fact that he was still fully clothed, was becoming frustrating. You desperately needed to feel him. But before you could undress him any further he grabbed your wrists with one of his hands, and pinned them above your head. He removed his knee and you whined at the loss of pressure on your clit. You felt your pussy throb, begging for attention, but Loki just grinned at you. ‘You’re an eager little thing, aren’t you? Look at my pants’. You looked down and saw a large wet stain at the part of his knee you rubbed your clit against. You started to blush.

Loki flicked his hand and you suddenly felt the touch of cool metal against your wrists. You looked up and saw your wrists handcuffed together. Attached to the handcuffs was a chain which was bound to the headboard of the bed. You heard him chuckle ‘I prefer to have both hands free, when I play with my toys’. Normally you would protest to any man who would do something like that without asking, but with Loki it was different. The fact that he was treating you like his personal toy to play with, was a real turn on for you. Loki moved to lay besides you. He had one hand supporting his head while his other hand was stroking your breasts. You felt your pussy throb harder and started to squirm at the feeling of his touch. He was watching how your body reacted to his touch. He slowly started to move his hand lower. ‘I must say that it was a pleasant surprise to see you tonight’. His hand was now on your hip slowly making circles. You felt the bedsheets underneath your pussy become damp. Your breaths were shallow and you mind was racing. You desperately needed relief. He moved his head to your ear, and his other hand grabbed your hair. He pulled on it slightly and you could feel his tongue stroking your earlobe ‘I noticed you a few feasts ago and ever since I saw you, I have not been able to put you out of my mind’. You moaned at the feeling of his tongue on your ear and bucked your hips in the hope he will touch your pussy. ‘I do admit that I tend to break my toys, but I am going to play with you for as long as I can’. He then put a finger on your clit and started to rub slow circles. He puts just enough pressure on it to feel him, but hardly enough to give you some form of relief. His touch was driving you crazy and you started to moan his name repeatedly. He removed his other hand from your hair and started to stroke your cheek.

Then there was a knock on the door. ‘Prince Loki?’. Loki looked annoyed and turned his face towards the door ‘Come in.’. A guard walked in and he froze for a moment before he regained his composure. Loki chuckled while he was still stroking circles around your clit. His other hand was brushing to your hair, like he was petting you. You could do nothing else than moan his name. You were hardly aware that there was a guard now watching you. ‘Ehm.. the feast is a- almost at an end and Prince Thor is requesting your presence to say goodbye to the remaining guests.’. Loki sighed and looked at you. Your eyes were closed and your whole body looked flushed and was moving ever so slightly. Loki saw just how desperate you were to come. ‘I’ll be there in five minutes’ Loki said to the guard. The guard then left as quickly as he could. You groaned ‘Please Loki, please. You can not do this to me, I need you’.

Loki pushed your legs open further and positioned his face right before your pussy. He hummed in approval. ‘I know darling, but I will not be gone long. Now you have been moaning my name so prettily, let us see if I can make you scream it’. Without a warning he pushed his tongue hard down on your clit and moved it up and down. Two of his fingers slipped easily inside of you and started to pump in and out of you. The wet sounds that were coming from this action sounded sinful to your ears. But all you could care about is the feeling of your orgasm building up inside of you. ‘I do only have 3 minutes left, so I need you to be a good girl and come for me. Now!’. The vibration of his words against your clit sends you over the edge and you screamed his name. His fingers started to pump slower and his tongue was now drawing slow long circles against your clit. He worked you through your intense orgasm and looked smugly at you, trembling, and still moaning his name softly. He brought his fingers to your mouth and you eagerly started to lick them clean. ‘Now, I will be gone for about 30 minutes.’. You looked at him with widened eyes. He then gave you a darkened look ‘But I’m far from done playing with you, yet.’

With his fingers now clean he stood up and grabbed his jacket, put it on and straightened the rest of his clothes. You started to tug at your handcuffs which made Loki chuckle. He then went to one of his cabinets, opened a drawer and pulled out a ball shaped like an egg. ‘You know what it is?’ You shook your head. He walked towards you and pushed the egg-shaped ball inside of you, which made you jolt. Then he showed you a remote in his hands. ‘Like I said, I will be back in 30 minutes. But you do know how I need something to play with during these tedious events.’ He pressed on a button and the egg-shaped ball started to vibrate. You gasped and started to squirm. Loki bent down to kiss you and you started to moan into the kiss. He then whispered in your ear ‘When I come back we’ll play some more before you break. In the meantime, you are not allowed to come until I get back. I want to watch as you come undone every time I let you. If you do come before I am back, I promise you that you are in for a rough night. Remember that right now, I am still going easy on you. Don’t worry the doors will be locked and no one else will be able to enter.’ 

He then stood up straight and started to walk towards the door. You were whimpering softly, trying to distract yourself. You were not sure if you could handle this vibration for so long, without coming. Plus, you did not know if you wanted to know what a rough night with Loki meant. The way he plays with your body was already hard to sustain. You heard him open the door and you looked at him. Just before he was through the door, he turned around to face you ‘Oh, one more thing darling..’ he shot you a wicked grin and you saw him push another button on the remote. The vibration increased, you let out a loud moan and arched your back. Already feeling your orgasm build up. ‘This is not even the highest setting’. And with that he left you to moan, squirm and wait until he gets be back.

[admiral-alby]

bob fic recs galore

here’s the fruits of my labour. a working fic rec master-post containing multiple bob ships and many, many amazing fics. the writers in this fandom are absolutely incredible and their talent astounds me every time I read a new fic. all the kudos to y’all. keep on keeping on!

this is a long post. recs and some general notes are under the cut :)

(04/13/21) I’ll do my best to keep this list updated... or I’ll make a part 2 depending on length. if anyone has any recs that are not already listed in this post, please please message me! this is no way an exhaustive list and I’m sure I missed some fantastic fics out there - to get started I mostly just plucked from my bookmarks. I’d be happy to add on new fics for ANY pairing, rare-pairs included. I don’t really have much for rare-pairs in this rec because I haven’t read much yet but that will change soon when I have some more time on my hands to get into them  :)

if you are an author on this list and you would like your work removed from it, please just message me. no explanation necessary I will take it off asap.

I’ll make the disclaimer that while I tried to include some general information about each fic, I did not include tags/warnings. so if you choose a fic, read the tags and proceed at your own discretion.

 @capsparkyspeirs   you’re a lovely human being and this is probably not what you were imagining when I said I’d be happy to rec some fics for you. I admit it got a little out of hand but there’s so many great fics out there I couldn’t stand to choose just a couple to send your way... so you get them all! you inspired me to do this, so this is for you and anyone else who wants to read some great fics but doesn’t know where to start <3

WINNIX (RICHARD WINTERS/LEWIS NIXON)

Long Ago and Far Away (Canon Winnix) by churchkey (Series) Rated T-E / Canon Era / 18013 Words (Total) / 4 Parts / Not Complete

Summary: “A few scenes exploring how Dick and Lew became the timeless cosmic lovers they were born to be.“

*Each part can be read as a stand-alone!

It Happened One Night by raquelelpillo Rated M / Groundhog Day AU / 7704 Words / Complete

Summary: “ Nixon gets the chance to do the day before the big jump over and over and over (or, Every Fandom Needs Groundhog's Day Fic).”

Finding Our Way in the Dark by rilla Rated E / Canon Era / Soulmate AU / 8477 Words / Complete

Summary: “After Dick and Lew share their first kiss in Austria, they open their eyes to find a golden thread binding their wrists together.“

Mutual by miss_grey Rated G / Canon Era / 2105 Words / Complete

Summary: “Dick couldn’t help wondering to himself when exactly Nix had decided that Dick’s personal space had become their mutual space.“

Let Me Be Close by armyofbees  Rated G / Canon Era (Post-War) / 8679 Words / Complete

Summary: “Five things Nix loves about Dick, and one thing Dick loves about Nix.Or,The thing about Nix, Dick is beginning to learn, is that he doesn’t love in halves. Nix loves with everything in him, and sometimes that means moving to the middle of nowhere in Pennsylvania for Dick. Sometimes it means making spaghetti with him because Dick came to New Jersey and planted tomatoes, of all things. Sometimes it means telling without saying.”

Let’s Start the New Year Right by slightlytookish Rated G / Canon Era (Post-War) / 10523 Words / Complete

Summary: “Nix had always been able to pick Dick out of a crowd, even when he was lying on his belly in the dirt two hundred yards away, squinting through binoculars at an entire company of men wearing identical uniforms. It was easier to spot him in the crush of people inside Penn Station, even out of the familiar uniform: the same tall figure, the same bright hair, the same way he always seemed to find Nix just as easily and turn towards him, like an arrow on a compass.”

Lancaster County by raquelelpillo Rated T / AU / 31500 Words / 17 Chapters / Complete

Summary: “Nix is born later. Dick is there. (AU). Set in the summer of 1942 in Lancaster, Pennsylvania.”

**It is part of a series with the other works being small ‘extras’ set through the story. This is the main work. It ends a bit ambiguously.

SPEIRTON (RONALD SPEIRS/CARWOOD LIPTON)

The Desolate House by Howling_Harpy Rated E / Canon Era (Post-War) / 26672 Words / Complete

Summary: “It's been fifteen years since Carwood has last seen or spoken to Speirs when they reunite suddenly at an Easy Company reunion and have both recently relocated back to the US. Carwood has promised to his mother to finish packing and cleaning the family's boarding house that's about to be put up for sale, and on a whim invites Speirs to help him. He didn't expect him to actually show up.”

and you on my mind by seabright Rated E / Canon Era (Post-War) / 11081 Words / Complete

Summary: “’You say that you don’t want any of Easy to know that you’re in Boston but you give me your address.’  Following a relationship through the end of the war and beyond.”

Of Soldiers and Secrets by nanuk_dain Rated E / Canon Era / 62988 Words / 26 Chapters / Complete

Summary: “A series of moments in the life of the Easy men, from Foy until after the war, focussing on the development of the relationship of Carwood Lipton and Ronald Speirs.”

Erasure by Howling_Harpy Rated M / Canon Era (Post-War) / 15255 Words / Complete

Summary: “Carwood takes time off from work to visit his mother to get away from his lonely life in Boston. Ron is deployed to Korea and has been for a long while, and after spending a year alone and even longer lying to everyone, Carwood is not sure he wants to live like this anymore.”

Fluences by masongirl (Series) Rated T-M / Canon Era / Soulmates AU / 12818 Words (Total) / 5 Works / Complete

Summary: “ Soulmate AU in which soulmates can sense each other's emotions if they are close enough.”

**Mainly Speirton centric. Part 2 is Winnix & Part 3 is Shifty/Tab.

A Thousand Kisses by Arwen88 Rated T / Canon Era / 1993 Words / Complete

Summary: “ A late night in Hardigny brings Carwood to the room where Ron is dealing with paperwork, but even with a comfortable bed, he can’t find his peace. Late night chats have Ron showing a side of himself that Carwood had not expected.”

stop the world by languageofthebirds Rated T / Canon Era / 3001 Words / Complete

Summary: “The way his hair fell in mussed waves over his forehead made Carwood want to reach out and run his fingers through it. He was sin personified, in that moment.”

**Did I throw in a shameless self promo? Sure did.

WEBGOTT (JOSEPH LIEBGOTT/DAVID WEBSTER)

rivers always reach the sea by bitchbutter (Series) Rated E / Canon Era / 40790 Words (Total) / 2 Works / Not Complete / Last Updated March 17, 2021

Part 1 Summary: “Joe breaks things off with Web in Austria. Of course, nothing with them is ever that simple.“

Part 2 Summary: “The end of the war could be the end of a lot of things. If Joe could let it be.“

if i know you at all, i know you’ve gone too far by starblessed Rated T / Canon Era / 2654 Words / Complete

Summary: “How many stars d’you think there are, Web?” Joe asks after a moment.David has no damned clue. “A lot,” he answers confidently. “Millions.”“Millions,” echoes Joe. The glittering stars are reflected in his eyes, like black pits sending each beam of light back outward. It’s almost hypnotizing, the way they flicker. If he stares too long, David knows he will get lost in them...  and that doesn't seem like the worst way to go.”

Teller of Tales; Song of Songs by thedastardly Rated E / Canon Era (Post War) / 8352 Words / Complete

Summary: “He hopes that he dreams about the mountaintop tonight. He isn’t in the mood to dream of the water, the shore, the everything after, again.”

the only noise beating out is ours by lakehymn Rated M / Canon Era (Post-War) / 3470 Words / Complete

Summary: “Over the next couple weeks, Webster realizes that Liebgott has effortlessly invaded every corner of his life. Even on the days when he barely sees Liebgott at all, he can always find comic books or packs of cigarettes lying around somewhere. It’s almost disconcerting how ordinary it’s beginning to feel to stumble upon someone else’s belongings in his own house.”

push and pull by LT_Aldo_Raine

Rated T / Modern AU / 4115 Words / Complete

Summary: ““got hands like an ocean, push you out, pull you back in” And David Webster never could resist the ocean. OR: Webster snorted, a sardonic sound that echoed across the hotel room. “You don’t know the first thing about what I need.””

hang in there, baby by rilla Rated M / Modern AU / 3116 Words / Complete

Summary: “Written for the Kisstober prompt 'upside down Spiderman kisses'. '“I don’t know what I was expecting when I asked you what your top fantasy is,” Web says, “but it wasn’t this."'”

In His Wildest Dreams by Impala_Chick Rated E / Canon Era / Dream Sharing AU / 3891 Words / Complete

Summary: “While David is in the hospital, he starts sharing dreams with Liebgott.“

Black Ink on Some Blue Lines by thelastfig Rated E / Canon Era & Post War / 10185 Words / Complete

Summary: “It’s been sixteen years since the letter was written, but it never found its way to the one it was intended for. The thing about secrets is they eat away at you, not all at once but slowly over the years, and you begin to wonder, to play out the what if scenarios in your mind. Instead, David buried it away and pretended like it never existed. He should have killed it, he thinks to himself, not buried it while it still had breath in its lungs. In which David remembers his evolving relationship with Joe over the course of the war and decides to deliver a letter.”

LUZTOYE (GEORGE LUZ/JOSEPH TOYE)

The best laid plans by masongirl (Series) Rated G-E / Modern AU / 52652 Words (Total) / 15 Parts / Complete

Summary: “Modern AU in which Joe and George find each other as college students and build a life together.“

each and every day (of the year) by bruce_the_shark Rated M / Modern AU / 21630 Words / 2 Chapters / Complete

Summary: “Joe grins, lifts his hand from George’s hip to grip him by the chin, twists his face around to catch his lips in a bruising kiss. George relishes in it, likes how the taste of Joe’s preferred brand of liquor mixes with the taste of his own on his tongue. He grins against Joe’s lips, knows it’s going to be a good year.”

Babysitting and Other Rationales by aces_low Rated T / Modern AU / 3267 Words / Complete

Summary: “George Luz is a god damn saint, or at least some kind of kid whisperer. And Joe's just trying to keep his head on straight.”

who let the dogs in? by starblessed Rated T / Modern AU / 1869 Words / Complete

Summary: ““And he heard me shouting and I guess it inspired him or something, cause he full-on charged at me, Joe, and before I could even slam the door, he was just —“ George cuts off with an incoherent noise, gesturing grandly to their front door. “In! And then he was running, and sniffing everything, and exploring our shit, and he peed —““Not on my damn couch,” Joe growls.“No, on the nice carpet. Marking his territory, y’know? Except it’s our territory, but I guess it’s his now, because he won’t freakin’ leave.”

BABEROE (EDWARD HEFFRON/EUGENE ROE)

Call me sweetheart, please? by mariamegale (Series) Rated G-E / Modern AU / 95865 Words (Total) / 12 Works / Complete

Summary: “A not-relationship in the making.”

**Each part could be read as a standalone I suppose... But it’s so worth it to read the whole series!

between the walls by CountlessStars Rated M / Canon Era (Post-War) / 2275 Words / Complete

Summary: “ Eugene decides to paint his living room. It should be easy, it really should, but it doesn't go as planned (in more ways than one).”

Walking Wounded by papersky_pencilstars Rated G / Canon Era / Magic AU / 3501 Words / Complete

Summary: “Prompt: Canon-era; Either Gene or Babe have magic, or both. Maybe magic is known or maybe they need to hide it.”

JOHNNY MARTIN/BULL RANDLEMAN

they don’t know about the up all nights (they don’t know I’ve waited all my life) by PotofCoffee Rated T / Canon Era / 22010 Words / 3 Chapters / Complete

Summary: “ Johnny and Bull throughout the war, in a slow meandering dance you might just call love.”

All My Love to Give by Muccamukk Rated E / Canon Era / 8852 Words / Complete

Summary: “ Johnny wants to screw around to pass the time. Bull wants to show Johnny how he feels without having to risk saying it”

The Red String by Arwen88 Rated M / Canon Era / Soulmates AU / 1834 Words / Complete

Summary: “He had to wrench his gaze away from the sickening sight, from the machine that was probably moments away from killing his soulmate. He would’ve thrown himself under that tank if that meant saving his lover, but he couldn’t do it. He had to take care of his men, and so he forced himself to stop looking, to order his men to retreat, to see that they did what he was screaming at them.“

Over Where You Began Muccamukk Rated E / Canon Era / 2949 Words / Complete

Summary: “ The way Bull saw it, Johnny was mad at him now, and Bull had no idea what he'd done wrong. Maybe it was better to just let it lie, let Johnny come out of whatever angry mood he was in on his own, instead of kicking an ant's nest.”

Simple as a Glass of Chocolate by ThrillingDetectiveTales Rated E / Canon Era / 2600 Words / Complete

Summary: ““It was supposed to be syrup,” Johnny muttered darkly. “Says right there on the can!”“Reckon it started out that way,” Bull shrugged, biting his lip against a smile when Johnny narrowed a glare over his shoulder.(In which Johnny and Bull try to sweeten up their sex life and it doesn't go exactly as planned.)”

CHUCK GRANT/RONALD SPEIRS

to Babel, in ruins by captainkilly Rated T / Canon Era (Post-War) / 5114 Words / Complete

Summary: “Chuck knows recovery isn't a linear event. Knows there are times when words will leave him and the night will place him back beneath the dirt. Knows there are things he just can't speak about.Captain Speirs hears him anyway.”

pulse by captainkilly Rated T / Canon Era  / 4706 Words / Complete

Summary: “ Ron Speirs knows how to kill. Knows how to hurt, how to twist, how to maim. He doesn't think he's figured out how to love, not really, not where it counts the most, but the touches he reserves for Chuck Grant beg to differ.. “

AUTHORS

there are so many authors on this list that have written tons of amazing works for one or multiple pairings. as much as I would have loved to, I couldn’t rec all of their works... I had a hard enough time keeping it down to 3 or less works from the same author! similar to fics, I’ve only linked authors that I am familiar with/know have written multiple fics, so feel free to send me more people to add to the list :)

churchkey - is a sweetheart. has multiple amazing winnix works. she has recently gotten into super rarepair toye/malarkey. godspeed I’ll see you there when I read those fics.

ThrillingDetectiveTales - writes for multiple pairings. all of their works are fantastic! every time I see their name as the author I go !! and know it’s going to be good.

Howling_Harpy - has written so many fics. many different pairings. lots of speirton. they’ve ripped my heart out and made me cry but then gently kissed my forehead and put my heart back. I think that’s praise of the highest order.

masongirl - another fantastic author who has written so many amazing fics. tons of speirton and other ships too. also has made me cry and then quietly wiped my tears away.

mariamegale - baberoe queen. that’s all I have to say. I was tempted to just rec all her baberoe fics. check them out!

Muccamukk - another multi ship, multi works writer. i had a hard time only choosing a few of their fics to rec. they’ve got so much to offer!

Impala_Chick - writes lots of great webgott and other pairings too!

captainkilly - if i could rec all her fics I would. there’s some rarepair pieces that are fantastic. I didn’t list it here because it’s more of a character centric piece with an OFC and a little bit of ron/chuck dashed in mostly at the end, but read her form & void series. seriously. read it. I have nothing else to say because her work speaks for itself.

Arwen88 - another writer for multiple pairings with multiple works! love to see it. some great rarepair stuff and also fantastic popular pairings.

LT_Aldo_Raine - love their work! they write for multiple pairings.

[maraudersftw]

Can you do #50 from the prompt asks? For the BlackEvans brotp/bromance?

Also, D&D is AMAZING! I LOVE IT!

Heyyy, I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to get to this. And I’m doubly sorry because I realized you wanted BlackEvans only after I’d already almost written the whole thing? So, this is primarily Jily, but Sirius does get screen-time so I hope that makes it better!

AND THANK YOU! ❤❤

50. “You are my new pillow.”

Pillow

James is midway through devouring his steak and kidney pie, spoon raised halfway to his mouth, when she collapses onto the empty space next to him rather dramatically. He’s caught off guard, both by her presence and by the hand she’s dropped onto his shoulder as leverage to pull herself over the bench.

The food on his spoon teeters dangerously, and then dives back onto his plate. Thwop.

“Unghh,” she groans.

“Hey look,” Sirius perks up from the other side, fork pointed at the mass of red hair on the table. “Evans can speak Troll.”

“Fuck,” a flash of green eyes, “off.”

“Never mind,” he smirks. “False alarm.”

Momentarily done with his quota of annoying her, Sirius goes back his own lunch, though not before arching a pointed brow in James’s direction. It’s blatantly clear what that amused look means: the bird you fancy is crazy, mate.

James knows this already, and so he shrugs. Sirius rolls his eyes at his plate.

Six years in, he should know better than to try and embarrass James for his crush on the girl. The whole castle knows he’s rather pathetic about it by now, and he’s stopped pretending otherwise a long time back.

Presently, he knocks his shoulder against hers; gently, because sometimes, Lily breathes fire and he can’t afford to get scorched today. There’s Quidditch practice later. “Alright, Evans?”

She pulls her head up from the cocoon of folded arms, turning slightly to look at him. Tendrils of hair curtain around her face, escapees from the simple braid she’d twisted them into that morning. The frustrated eyes she’d pinned on Sirius earlier have transformed into something softer now, almost petulant. She pouts, lips downturned and positively maddening.

He can’t believe she’s real.

“I need sleep,” she groans.

The dark circles under her eyes suddenly become prominent to him, like her words have lifted some concealing charm from them. “Was Ancient Runes too rough?”

“It was a bloody disaster!” her eyes travel skyward, and his lips twitch slightly at her antics. But she looks back down soon after, so he’s quick to school his features. “I stay up until four in the fucking morning finishing that ruddy assignment even though my eyes are bleeding out and then Professor Babbling doesn’t even collect it because almost the entire class complains that they couldn’t solve the questions! So, we go over the same thing again today, but even slower, and I feel properly pissed and exhausted.” She stops to take a breath, but seems to think better of it and growls angrily instead.

Sirius snorts. “You’re such a swot.”

Sensing the peril to his best mate's life, James squeezes her shoulder, drawing back the attention. “Why don’t you go up and take a nap?”

“And miss Transfiguration?!” she cries, looking miserable. He’s such a tosser for finding even that adorable. “No, thank you. Not all of us can pass that class in our sleep like you can, Potter.”

He lets her words stroke his ego for a beat before pressing on. “What are you going to do, then? If you show up to class half-dead, you won’t understand anything anyway.”

Instead of replying, she lets out a sigh deep enough that it probably empties all the air inside her lungs. And suddenly, without any prompting, without any warning, she wraps her hands around his right arm and drops her head onto his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut.

His heart leaps to his mouth.

“This bench is my bed now,” she mumbles, almost nuzzling his arm. “You are my new pillow.”

He isn’t entirely certain this isn’t a dream anymore. Almost instinctively, this fear prompts him to look up at Sirius, who has frozen mid-chew quite comically. Grey eyes flit from Lily to James, and then back to Lily, before he swallows. The pure mix of surprise and amusement that takes over his face then informs James that he’s definitely not imagining this.

Even as Sirius grins, bright and shameless, he doesn’t say anything, and for that, James is genuinely grateful.

He can’t risk this. He can’t have her pulling back. Not now.

For the past four months, James has been carefully toeing the line between acquaintance and friendship with Lily. While he’d assumed they had managed to tip onto the latter side recently, Lily’s move to touch him like this, openly, like they’ve been mates for years, like they’re just the kind of people who do this now, well…it’s more than he could’ve hoped for.

James feels, right then, as if Gryffindor’s very lion is ready to burst out of his chest.

“I doubt I’m nearly as soft as a pillow,” he croaks, completely lame, entirely too late.

Sirius covers his mouth, shoulders shaking.

“Shut up, Potter, I’m trying to sleep.”

“Right. Sorry.”

“Shut up.” He hears the smile in her voice.

James does as she says this time, a grin pulling on his own lips as he turns back to his food.

The belated realization that he no longer has access to the hand he requires to eat feels laughably inconsequential. The entire Great Hall could suddenly find itself swarmed by Cornish Pixies and he wouldn’t budge from his place. Hell, his arm could fall numb, and lose feeling, and rot from lack of movement, and he still wouldn’t care as long as Lily’s head needed it.

Steak and kidney pie? Grossly overrated.

[jd-loves-fiction]

Husband kuroo fucking you in his office please🙄

🌙 Oof let's get this

[13:02] Unlike your peers, who jumped out of their seats the moment the clock struck 12, signaling the beginning of lunch break, and were already out the door only moments later, you took your time. This because you already knew that you’d have to stay in line to get lunch anyway, better to let people do their thing first and hope they’re done when you get there.

You had barely started to rise from your chair when a colleague of yours told you the boss needed to see you, in his office.

Oh boy. No use thinking about what you’d choose to eat once you got out if it was one of those days.

You wouldn’t be coming out of that room for quite some time, you already knew it.

You noticed that the assistant's desk, next to your boss's door, was empty, once again confirming your suspicions.

You knocked on the door, if only as a formality, as you opened it soon after, not really waiting for a response. Better to be fast with it if you still wanted to have lunch, plus your boss didn't like waiting, and you knew just how many lines you could cross already.

You greeted him as you entered, his gaze already where you stood as you did, waiting. He said it back with his 'business tone', the one he used on meetings only as he tried to tip every rival's opinion in his favour. It usually worked, he was a charmer when he wanted to be, you'd give him that.

Even with all the power he had over you, he still chose to be charming, to ask for your consent, to truly talk to you about everything before doing it. A true gentleman, under the 'con man' vibe he seemed to exude in the eyes of some people.

Which was one of the reasons why you fell in love with him in the first place.

You made sure to lock the door behind you, despite it being a known fact that you two were married, it would still be considered indecent to be doing what you usually did in his office at this hour, if someone walked in.

"Did you need something from me, Sir? Or is it, hubby, this time?" You asked teasingly, approaching Kuroo's desk slowly, where he sat leaning forward with his crossed fingers obscuring his mouth.

"Perhaps it's both this time." He sighed, leaning back in his chair as you got closer, legs spread while he turned to you, waiting for to take a seat.

"What's wrong?" You asked as you sat in his lap, straddling his hips and finding him to be slightly hard already, before wrapping your arms around his neck.

"I don't really need to punish you." He stopped himself with a kiss to your lips, before proceeding. "But God, do I just want to rail you."

Kuroo's big hands gripped your ass as he spoke, moving you against him only slightly, only showing you a taste.

"I see-- no problem with that." You gasped as his movements became rougher, but consented nonetheless, moments before he effortlessly lifted you up and placed you on his desk, staring down at you hungrily. "That's good to know."

He moved forward, kissing you harshly as he bunched your tight skirt up to your hips while your hands shoved his suit jacket off of his shoulders.

Both of your movements were rushed and somewhat rough as you began unbuttoning Kuroo's pants while he took off your panties.

He parted from your lips, his attaching to your neck, beginning to suck before you lightly smacked the back of his head.

"Don't leave any marks." You told him sternly. He responded with a pout, trying to change your mind but relented when you didn't.

"So bossy." Kuroo teased ironically as his fingers skimmed your wet center, making you gasp in surprise while he placed firm kisses and licks to your neck before biting your lobe as he whispered.

"This wet already, huh? How unprofessional."

He thrust two of his long fingers inside, simply to tease as you bit your lip to hold back any sound that might've tried to escape.

Just as you eyes began fluttering while your mind drift to somewhere higher, he pulled away, pulling down his pants and underwear just enough to take out his cock, already hard and waiting.

"I can't wait anymore. I need to fuck this tight pussy right now. Been thinking about it all morning, you know? So distracting. Just thinking about how tight and warm it is around my cock gets me so hard so fast, baby." Kuroo said, babbling almost mindlessly as he rubbed himself against your folds, coating himself in your essence, before lining himself up and pausing.

You raised your head, confused, until he shoved his cock entire cock deep in your pussy with one thrust, making your back arch as you let out a soundless scream at the unexpected and pleasurable pain.

A son climbed its way from your lungs to your throat, where it got stuck as you nearly choked instead as Kuroo began thrusting in and out of you at an unrelenting, bruising pace.

"T-Tetsu!" You whimpered, still trying to keep quiet, even as the table smacking against the floor was nearly enough to cover any of the sounds you wanted to make.

"You wanna be loud? I bet lunch break is almost over. Anyone could walk past and hear you. You wanna make them hear you, baby? Let them know who's making you feel this good?" He grunted in-between each thrust, watching your breasts moved just under your blouse.

"Come on, baby. Let them hear it. Let them hear you."

Your hands gripped Kuroo's forearms tightly, nails digging in as you shook your head firmly.

"No? You don't want to give them a show? Don't want them to know what good slut you are for your boss?" He continued to taunt you as you blushed and squirmed. His fingers then placed themselves on your clit, making your eyes widen as he gave you a meaningful look, just before they moved, equally as harsh and fast as the movements of his hips. "Try to stay quiet."

You instinctively tried to cover you mouth with your hand, but Kuroo grabbed it before you could, pinning it above your head and shutting down any attempt to disobey him with a heated glare, your other hand by your side, gripping onto the desk.

You climbed higher and higher towards your orgasm, hyper aware of the papers stuck beneath you (hopefully not too important, because you might've just heard something tear) and of every puff of air he released onto your neck.

"T-Tetsu-u, I'm close! I'm so close, please!" You begged for nothing in particular, with lustful and shameless abandon as Kuroo placed his forehead against yours before whispering, "Then, cum."

Like he had pressed a secret magical button inside you, you did as he ask, closing your eyes in bliss and still while managing to barely make a sound.

Kuroo, however, was just not like that.

He let out a loud and deep groan as he came, dropping his head to your chest to get his bearings.

"I hope you're satisfied. I skipped lunch for you, so you better be."

[robininthelabyrinth]

Field Medicine - on ao3 or tumblr pt 1, pt 2

Jiang Cheng didn’t really like change.

He thought it was a rather justified opinion, as things went – he’d gone through far too much change in his life, staring from the moment Wei Wuxian appeared in his life through to studying at the Cloud Recesses, the indoctrination camp, the loss of his parents and sect, the Sunshot Campaign, and now, even after it was all supposed to be over, Wei Wuxian’s recent change in behavior and personality…

Subconsciously, Jiang Cheng clung to the few things that seemed to remain the same.

Jiang Yanli, for one. No matter what she’d been through, what they’d all been through, she was still his jiejie, warm and wonderful and caring, a refuge from all troubles, and it was so easy to forget how much had changed for her, too. Her engagement to Jin Zixuan had been broken years ago, ages ago, before everything happened and the world irrevocably changed, and yet somehow whenever he had imagined her married, imagined her wedding day, he had always seen her surrounded by the gold of Lanling Jin.

Maybe that was why he was quite so shocked when it was Lan Xichen – First Jade of Lan, Sect Leader Lan, Zewu-jun, the second of the Venerated Triad – who came to him with Jiang Yanli’s arm tucked in his and asked if it would be possible to arrange a date for their marriage.

“To…each other?” he asked, a little stupidly, and then realized how much of an ass he was making of himself. “Uh, of course! I – uh – that is – when did you even meet?”

Jiang Yanli hid a laugh in her sleeve. Lan Xichen was more polite, but there was amusement in his eyes as he recounted the story of how Jiang Yanli had been assisting with medical care during the Sunshot Campaign, how he had been injured on one of his missions, how she had helped him, how they had taken to each other, how he had asked and she had agreed –

When he finished explaining, he lifted up her hand and pressed his lips to it, and for the first time in Jiang Cheng’s life he saw his sister blush and stutter like a girl in love, delight written in every line of her.

His heart gave a pang, and then melted.

She deserved it. She deserved it more than anyone.

“We decided to wait until after the war had ended to tell you,” Jiang Yanli told him, and Jiang Cheng understood. “But it has, now, and so…”

“It’s what you want?” he asked her, just to be sure. “I’d always thought, you know…but this, this makes you happy?”

“It does,” his sister said, and there was no doubt in her tone.

“In that case, of course we’ll set the date,” Jiang Cheng said, and reached out to grasp Lan Xichen’s hands – his new brother-in-law’s hands. “You’d better take good care of her, you hear me? Or else we’ll skin you.”

Wei Wuxian would have thought of a better threat, he thought. Wei Wuxian ought to be here for this, for something of this magnitude, but he hadn’t shown his face here today, even though he’d promised he’d be there, just as he promised, just as he’d failed to appear for days –

He was probably still healing from the final battle, Jiang Cheng forcefully reminded himself, even though actually Wei Wuxian had been fairly obviously up and about for a while. He certainly seemed to find enough energy to go to the wine shops to guzzle down liquor even if he didn’t find time to help out with anything else.

Still. Jiang Cheng wasn’t the one who’d used demonic cultivation to save the day; he shouldn’t judge.

“When would you like to announce the engagement?” he asked, and then frowned, abruptly remembering some gossip that had drifted past his ears. “There’s a celebration in the Nightless City tonight, but I heard…”

He hesitated.

“What?” Jiang Yanli asked, her brow furrowing. “What’s wrong, A-Cheng?”

“I’ve probably heard wrong,” he said, even though he didn’t think he had. “And anyway it’s just rumors, rumors I discounted at once, because I don’t think Sect Leader Jin would – I mean, certainly not without telling us in advance – well -”

“What did you hear?” Lan Xichen asked. There was no judgement in his voice at Jiang Cheng’s stuttering, merely quiet, steady concern. 

He’d be a good brother-in-law.

“I heard,” Jiang Cheng said reluctantly, “that he…that he was thinking of proposing that we reestablish the old engagement. Jiejie and Jin Zixuan.”

He’d heard that Sect Leader Jin planned to surprise them with the proposal in the middle of dinner. Anyone else and he would have dismissed the entire thing out of hand for sheer shamelessness, but with Sect Leader Jin he really couldn’t say for sure.

“I would say no, of course,” JIang Yanli said, and the quickness and surety of her answer relieved him.

“I don’t doubt that,” he said, flashing a brief smile at them both. “But I don’t know if we have time to announce it to everyone before the celebration, and if we let the Jin sect ask and then reject them, they might…”

“It would not be outside the realm of possibility for Sect Leader Jin to take offense for a perceived slight, such as the notion, however mistaken, that we have played him for a fool,” Lan Xichen said, frowning thoughtfully. “And being as his sect is helping to fund both of our sect’s reconstructions, that could be troublesome…I have an idea, actually, if you don’t mind being the subject of a little gossip.”

“Gossip? For a good purpose?” Jiang Cheng said, his voice dry without even meaning to be. “That’d be a nice change.”

“In that case, I’ll leave the two of you now to go set it up. Leave it in my hands,” Lan Xichen said with a smile, releasing Jiang Yanli’s hand and bowing far deeper than he had to – Jiang Cheng made an immediate sound of protest and tried to catch him, but he carried on – and then he left, striding away purposefully.

“You’re going to get married,” Jiang Cheng said to his older sister, abruptly excited, and pulled her close. “Oh, jiejie…!”

“I’m happy,” she said, and she looked it – she looked radiant. “I’m so happy, A-Cheng!”

“You deserve every happiness in the world,” Jiang Cheng said. “Wei Wuxian and I will plan you the best wedding, jiejie, you’ll see – oh, where is he? He should be here by now! He’ll miss the celebration tonight!”

As always, he wanted to say. Just like he’s missed everything else to do with the reconstruction, with training the new disciples, with – wasn’t he supposed to help me? Didn’t he promise me to be by my side? Was all of it a lie, did he actually want my position the way mother always thought, or did he just at some point stop caring –

“He knows it’s happening,” she assured him. There was no doubt in her voice. “He’ll be there.”

“But then we won’t be able to tell him in advance…!”

“I’ll tell him it’s my fault for waiting so late to tell you, and of course it’s all Sect Leader Jin’s fault for not telling any of us what he was planning,” Jiang Yanli said. “Don’t worry, A-Cheng.”

Wei Wuxian showed up right before the banquet – without his sword, again – and Jiang Cheng wanted to tell him, but couldn’t. They were surrounded by so many people, and if people found out that Wei Wuxian hadn’t known in advance, it might suggest to them that he was distancing himself from the Jiang sect…

Which wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true.

“Don’t act surprised,” Jiang Cheng murmured to Wei Wuxian as they walked in to be greeted by Jin Guangyao. “I’ll explain later.”

Wei Wuxian shot him a curious expression, but then they were talking with Jin Guangyao and all the sects were starting to congregate. Jin Guangshan was walking up to the main seat with an avid expression; he was likely going to start the celebration with a speech soon. There wasn’t time to say more.

What was Lan Xichen planning?

Just as Jiang Cheng thought that, Nie Mingjue, looking through the crowd from his excessive height, caught sight of Lan Xichen and strode over to his sworn brother – the entire room parted to let him pass, as usual, he was a hard man to miss – and then he said, in a voice that appeared almost unintentionally loud, “Xichen! What’s this I hear about you finally proposing? I insist you let me help plan the wedding!”

The entire room stopped paying the slightest bit of attention to anything else.

“Da-ge, please,” Lan Xichen said, although he was clearly smiling. Jiang Cheng couldn’t tell at this distance, but he would bet money that his eyes were curved up in suppressed laughter.

Nor could he blame him. Using Nie Mingjue’s horn-blast of a voice to “unintentionally” spread the information was a brilliant move – everyone knew Nie Mingjue was often over-loud, especially when he was being enthusiastic, and what was more natural than a pair of sworn brothers discussing the subject of an upcoming marriage? This way, there would not need to be any public announcement until the formal one, and Jin Guangshan could change his plans without losing face.

“It’s really not necessary,” Lan Xichen continued, pretending to be oblivious to the crowd of onlookers. If Jiang Cheng hadn’t known that he knew, he would have thought he actually was. “We’re only in the most preliminary discussions – we haven’t even set the date. We’re not even ready to announce it!”

Which is why they were going through all of this.

“Nonsense,” Nie Mingjue said. “Spare me your superstitions, Xichen. Not only would no woman in their right mind reject you, there can be no doubt that you and Mistress Jiang will be a wonderful pair, and I have every intention of drinking to your health this very night. Surely you can find someone who can calculate an auspicious date among all the sects gathered here?”

The rest of the room broke out in whispers the second Jiang Yanli was referenced, people starting to turn to stare at Jiang Cheng – Jiang Yanli, out on the balcony with the majority of the female cultivators, was temporarily spared – and at that point, Jin Guangyao materialized by his two sworn brothers’ sides, his smile a little strained (although nowhere near the abrupt scowl appearing on Jin Guangshan’s face), and their conversation dropped down to a more reasonable volume.

Jin Zixuan had something of a constipated expression on his face, too, but Jiang Cheng didn’t give one tiny bit of a damn about that – he’d had his chance. If he learned now, too late, to regret what he had lost, then that was on him. Let him go mourn in private, and leave the rest of them alone.

Jiang Cheng gave the room a mysterious smile, more a smirk really, and stepped on Wei Wuxian’s foot when his shixiong looked like he was going to say something. “You really need to start showing up on time,” he murmured, his voice low. “They agreed on it ages ago, apparently, but only told me today.”

Wei Wuxian nodded dumbly.

They might have managed to actually shock him silent, Jiang Cheng reflected, amused despite himself, and he glanced over at the Venerated Triad again – smiles on all faces, even if he did think Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue looked a bit more natural with it than poor Jin Guangyao – with the thought that they ought to be venerated for this little stunt as well as all their other strengths, and that’s when he suddenly had a moment of absolute brilliance.

“Wei Wuxian, you’re not doing anything right now, right? How about you go to Gusu as jiejie’s representative to negotiate some of the details that need to be covered with the Lan sect?” Jiang Cheng asked. “Dowries and such, that sort of thing. They’ll send someone to us, but under the circumstances we don’t want to put them to too much trouble in terms of travel right now. As sect leader, I really shouldn’t be leaving the Lotus Pier right now, but it’s not the same for you.”

Wei Wuxian was clearly unhappy with the Jiang sect recently, though Jiang Cheng did not know why; the only reasonable assumption was that the problem was with him, maybe, or may be with Wei Wuxian himself. Moreover, he knew Lan Wangji had been on Wei Wuxian’s case about the demonic cultivation, asking him time and time again to go with him to the Cloud Recesses, as if he thought there was something there that could help him…

If setting up this marriage could help convince Wei Wuxian to stop everything he was doing and take up regular cultivation once more, walk him back from the strange road he’d chosen and back to Jiang Cheng’s side, that would be – fantastic.

That was the only thing left. It would make it all perfect.

Before Wei Wuxian could demur, Jiang Cheng added, “Jiejie deserves only the best.”

Wei Wuxian folded at once, as he’d hoped.

Perfect, he thought, pleased with everything. Finally, everything, from now on, can be perfect.

[taexual]

i’d love you to stay but that’s simply insane // JJK (18)

   jungkook is an uncontrollable lead vocalist of the campus band, and you’re a goal-oriented top student that’s known his rich and complicated family since childhood. you don’t want anything to do with each other, until each other is exactly what you want to do.

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: college au

warnings: suggestive themes, lots of teasing & domestic fluff 🥺

words: 7.1k

   chapter eighteen

When you woke up the next morning, the first thing that you felt wasn’t the disruptive rays of sun on your face – you’d forgotten to draw the curtains last night – but soft, almost feather-light touches of fingertips on your collarbones. And, even though you had never woken up next to anyone like this before, you didn’t flinch or pull away.

Instead, you opened your eyes and immediately regretted not doing it sooner. Jungkook was laying on the bed next to you, his eyes still hazy with sleep and his lips parted in concentration as he drew patterns on the edges of your skin.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice quiet. You weren’t sure if you were truly awake yet, or if this was one of the overly realistic dreams that you’d had before.

Jungkook looked at you, surprised to hear you speak – he hoped not to wake you – but relieved when he saw the soft smile on your face.

“Trying to make sure you’re really here,” he answered, his morning voice breathy and raspy, and enough to make your stomach clench and your smile spread in admiration, despite the corny words.

You closed your eyes again. “Did you practice that line?”

“Absolutely,” he replied, shameless. “How’d I do?”

You hummed in content. “The delivery was nice. But it’s all very cliché. I’d say a six out of ten.”

He chuckled lazily, pulling his hands away and prompting you to look up at him again, in a way a dog would look at the person who’d stopped scratching its’ head – disappointed and outraged by the audacity.

“I’ll do better next time,” Jungkook promised, almost naturally reaching for you again – this time, to brush an unruly strand of your hair away from your face.

“Next time?” you asked, not trying to insinuate anything other than your intention to find out his plans for the immediate future.

He read too much into it, however. He cocked an eyebrow as he lifted himself up on his elbows.

“I don’t like that voice,” he said. “You’re about to tell me I was just a one-night-stand for you, aren’t you?”

You laughed, turning on your back but still watching him. “I’ve known you for twenty-three years.”

“Not like that, you didn’t.”

You looked away, your face warm. The smile on your lips was relentless, however – it gave no opportunity for you to pretend like the stressful night last night, and the way it ended, wasn’t a pleasant visitor in your memory.

“What do you want to do today?” Jungkook asked, feeling his arms go numb from supporting all of his weight, but not caring about it too much because, this way, he could see you better.

“Not a thing,” you told him, completely serious. “I want to stay in bed.”

“Alright,” he said, laying back down next to you as he decided firmly, “that’s what we’re doing then.”

You turned your head to face him. “Your bandmates will kill you.”

“That’s only if I go home,” he said, not seeming the slightest bit fazed about his impending doom. “If I don’t, then I’m safe.”

His indifference got you to smile; the relationship dynamics between Jungkook and his bandmates resembled a sibling connection far more than just a friendship. Still, he needed to do right by them.

“You can’t avoid them for the rest of your life,” you said.

“You underestimate me,” he shot back, very proud of himself.

“Jungkook,” you countered seriously.

“Well, I won’t really avoid them for the rest of my life,” he defended, “but maybe for the rest of the weekend.”

“Jungkook—”

“I liked the sound of my name on your lips a lot more last night,” he pointed out, deliberately distracting you.

He ran his tongue over his lower lip as if he could physically see the bolt of electricity that his words sent right into your stomach. He couldn’t get used to witnessing how the effect he had on you manifested on your face.

“Hmm,” you resisted the pull of his eyes. “Did you rehearse that, too?”

“No,” he replied, leaning in closer, “believe it or not, a lot of this charm comes naturally to me.”

“Must’ve had a lot of practice, then,” you spoke, your voice so quiet, it was barely above a whisper, as his face lingered a few millimetres away from yours.

“Or a lot of daydreams,” he said, “and night dreams. And evening dreams. And morning—”

You ended up having to be the one who kissed him – to shut him up before you admitted that his cheesy pick-up lines made your traitor heart flutter; but it wasn’t so much the lines, as it was the undisguised fondness in his eyes, really. Smiling into the kiss, Jungkook was quick to take over by touching your cheek with his hand lightly, and shifting your face into his so he could deepen the kiss.

You pulled away with a half-hearted whine, your lips smacking as you broke the kiss. “It’s too early. I haven’t showered or even brushed my teeth yet.”

Jungkook looked absurdly offended. “You kissed me!”

“To get you to shut up,” you clarified.

“Oh, so the sound of my voice annoys you?” he jabbed, “very well. Let’s go.”

He rolled away from you and sat up in bed.

You watched him, confused and somewhat disappointed that his plans, clearly, did not include staying in bed the whole day, after all. “Go where? Where are you—”

Jungkook stood up and pulled you by your hands until you were sitting up. You refused to stand until he answered you and he clicked his tongue at your resistance.

“We,” he said, emphasizing the plural word as he gave you one more pull, forcing you to climb off the bed, “are going to take a shower.”

It already felt unusual – and uncomfortable now that it was daytime – to stand around in your room next to Jungkook, dressed in virtually nothing because you hadn’t bothered to find your respective clothes last night: he gave up after he untangled his boxers from his jeans, and you settled for his shirt. Now that he’d mentioned a shared shower, you started to feel even more self-conscious.

“We are—no, what are you saying?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest defensively as Jungkook realized he regretted tossing you his shirt last night – he didn’t want it back now, not unless you were in it.

“Come on,” he said, taking your hand and heading for the door of your dorm.

You stayed put. “Together?”

“You’re not very sharp in the mornings, are you?” he teased and then smirked before you could punch him. “I like that. Yes. Together.”

He kept going – or, rather, tried to keep going because you still weren’t moving – and when he turned to look at you, exasperation was clear in his eyes.

“Jungkook, the showers here are communal,” you told him.

“Even better!” he replied. Not even an earthquake would have changed his mind.

“How is that better?” you frowned.

“I don’t mind an audience.”

You punched his shoulder. “I mind!”

Laughing, Jungkook let go of one of your hands and rubbed his shoulder.

“Well, it’s seven in the morning right now,” he said, not checking the time on his phone again – he’d done that as soon as he woke up, and he decided to abandon the device for the rest of the day. “I’m sure everyone’s still asleep.”

“Seven,” you repeated, all oxygen leaving your lungs until you felt like a deflated balloon. “Oh, God. No wonder I feel so tired. Why were you awake this early?”

“Why would I waste my time sleeping when I’m with you?” Jungkook asked with a face so straight, you’d have really believed all of this came to him naturally. “Now come on, let’s go.”

And you went with him – mostly because he refused to let you refuse, but also because your refusal wasn’t entirely genuine – almost forgetting to grab the towels and the soap on your way out of the door.

You were beyond surprised to learn that the sight of a boy, taking a confident stroll down the hallway, dressed in his boxers and nothing else, didn’t make you cringe and look away at all. If anything, the dorm doors and the people living behind them was what seemed out of place here, because Jungkook – guiding you towards the communal showers – looked like he was right in his element.

“You ever worry your cockiness is going to get you in trouble?” you asked when Jungkook pulled the door open. You exhaled in relief at the sight of the empty shower stalls all around you.

“No,” he answered, smiling. “You do the worrying for me.”

You rolled your eyes. “You give me too much credit. I’m clearly letting you do whatever you want at this point.”

“Oh, so, does that permission include doing whatever I want to you?” he was grinning as he pulled you into the closest stall and pressed you against the tiled wall, forgetting the curtains or anyone who may have walked in at any moment.

“Maybe not while we’re in public,” you replied, managing to push him off of you – and ignoring his disappointed pout, “it’s highly unhygienic.”

“I had a feeling you’d say that,” he countered while you busied yourself with the shower curtain which had one of its’ plastic hoops stuck on the rod and wasn’t moving.

“Well, then, don’t look so sad,” you said, giving him a look over your shoulder – immediately, he smirked at your tone – and tugging the shower curtain harder until it finally slid down the rod and separated the two of you from the rest of the room. “You should have been prepared for this.”

“You’re the one who has to be prepared for everything,” he pointed out. “I just go with the flow.”

“That’s not always a good thing,” you countered, crossing your arms. “As I’m sure you know by now—”

Not waiting until you finished lecturing him, Jungkook settled for the most childish way to change the topic and turned the shower on. You gasped in surprise when the cold water splashed you, soaking the front of your – his – shirt completely.

“Jungkook!” you scolded, jumping away from the direct stream of water while he, predictably, laughed.

“What?” he asked, all sugar and spice and everything nice. “We’re in the shower.”  

Then, to further prove his point that he hadn’t done anything wrong by getting you wet, even if you were still in your clothes, he turned the shower head towards himself and brought his hands through his hair until he was completely soaked.

You were frozen for a minute – which was exactly what he’d intended – watching Jungkook act out a shampoo commercial right in front of you.

“It’s not showering if you’re wearing all of your clothes,” you muttered under your breath finally, once you painfully tore your eyes away from the droplets of water that traced every crevice of his skin; a cascading waterfall that framed his half-naked body.

“Ah, so you want me to undress!” he translated excitedly and awarded you with a wink that could have made the devil himself flustered. “Should have said so from the beginning.”

“I wasn’t—”

Leaning down under the running water to take his boxers off, Jungkook promised, “your wish is my command.”

After a whole lot of giggling and slipping, and very little actual, legitimate scrubbing and cleaning, you and Jungkook walked out of the shower hand-in-hand, with smiles on your faces. 

The sight of the pure joy in both of your eyes as you crossed the hallway back towards your dorm room, left little to the imagination, but you did not run into anyone, so, for all you knew, no one, aside from the two of you, was aware of what had happened in the shower this morning.

In fact, you loved the idea that you and Jungkook were the only people here – there wasn’t a single passerby, a single (un)bothered observer, or anyone else who could have otherwise interrupted you two. It was just you and him. Finally, you-and-him.

“I’ve never lived in a dorm,” Jungkook said once you were back in your room as he used a separate towel to tousle his hair, splashing water around like a shaggy dog. “But I really enjoy the showers here.”

“You got to experience them at a good time,” you replied. “It’s a lot less fun when there are people in every stall.”

“Hmm, I bet. And less fun without me, too, yeah?”

You gave him a look as you unwrapped your hair from the towel on top of your head. “You’re too full of yourself.”

“Me?” Jungkook feigned innocence. His angelic smile was a clear indication that some inane entity had possessed him today and he was absolutely not going to quit teasing you anytime soon. “I’m the most underrated—”

You interrupted, “self-absorbed, arrogant, inconsiderate—”

“—person there is. Hold on now,” he took a threatening step towards you, raising his eyebrows, “did you just call me inconsiderate?”

“Well, you rarely think about other people’s feelings when you do something,” you retaliated and Jungkook – who enjoyed the proud smirk on your lips, but only because he couldn’t wait to wipe it off with a kiss – pursed his lips, shaking his head.

“You mistake my intentions,” he said. “I always think about—”

Suddenly, your phone buzzed, cutting him off mid-excuse. You turned around in the direction of the sound, breaking eye contact, and Jungkook groaned in disappointment.

“Now who,” he demanded, “is bold enough to ruin my monologue about how caring and selfless I am?”

You scoffed, side-eyeing him before you reached for your phone and, much to your surprise, saw a text from Namjoon – who was wondering if you’d found Jungkook last night and if he was alright.

“If it’s Yoongi, tell him that yes, I’m avoiding him, and no, I’m not coming home today,” Jungkook said after noticing the way you bit your lip once you read the text.

“It’s not Yoongi. But you should probably call him,” you said absentmindedly as you tried to compose a text message that involved the right amount of gratitude for Namjoon’s help last night, but also just enough cold politeness, so that Jungkook wouldn’t have any reason to cause a scene. He already had a wary expression on his face after you said it wasn’t his bandmate who’d texted you.

Then, you stopped typing and raised your head to look at the boy, sitting on the bed across from you. “Wait. What do you mean you’re not coming home?”

He shrugged, lying down on your bed. “I’m staying here.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Did we agree on that?”

“Yes,” he replied, “with our bodies.”

You grimaced. “I’m not sure—”

“Oh, you can’t kick me out,” he said – ordered, really – as he patted the bed next to him waiting for you to sit. You did. He continued, “we’ve got so many things we still need to do. All of those movies we haven’t gotten to watch because we keep doing something else when we’re together,” pausing for a moment, Jungkook snickered, “I mean, I wouldn’t mind doing something else again—did you just laugh at me?”

You bit your tongue, trying to conceal your smile, but the playful mood Jungkook was in amused you too much.

“I just exhaled,” you replied, returning your attention to your phone as you pressed send. “Now, what were you saying about—”

“Who was that?” he asked with a nod at your phone now that you’d finished typing.

“Hmm?” you mumbled, not because you hadn’t heard him, but because something about the way your heart skipped a beat at his question told you that he wasn’t going to like your answer, and you needed to win some time to find a way to soften the blow. “Just Namjoon. He was worried about you.”

Jungkook scoffed but, thankfully, didn’t immediately throw a tantrum.

“Doubt that,” he said instead, with dripping skepticism. “We don’t know each other, why would he care—”

“You went off-the-grid last night,” you said, aware that the patient voice you tried to demonstrate may have come off as accusing. That wasn’t your intention but, now that the conversation came up, you thought it was fair he knew that his actions affected more people than just you and him. “It doesn’t matter if he knows you or not. You could have been dead in a ditch.”

“Is that what Yoongi suggested?” Jungkook inquired in a disgruntled tone.

“No,” you said even though it sort of was. “But we were all concerned for you. Namjoon included.”

He rolled his eyes – partially because he didn’t like to be reminded of the hassle he’d caused last night, but also because he had a hard time believing that people who didn’t know him were genuinely worried about his safety, when his own friends, aside from his bandmates, couldn’t have cared less.

“I know you want to see the best in people, but—”

“I’m not seeing the best in him,” you disagreed, “in fact, we got into an argument at the barbecue yesterday and I realized that there’s more to him than I’d previously thought. But when I told him about you, he was really concerned. He’s the one who drove me back to campus to look for you.”

Digesting this new information for a moment, Jungkook swallowed.

Then, when you thought you were going to have to explain your decision to accept Namjoon’s offer to drive you home, Jungkook dismissed the whole thing.

“So,” he said, “Namjoon isn’t who you thought he was, then?”

“He—that’s not what I meant,” you replied, surprised by the direction the conversation had taken, but suspicious when you saw Jungkook smile victoriously.

“No, I’m curious,” he encouraged, sitting up and scooting closer to you – so close, in fact, that you could see the glistening drops of water that he hadn’t wiped off from his chest, “has he let you down? Are you thinking you shouldn’t be friends anymore?”

Before you could be any more distracted – if not by his words, then by his glimmering skin or by his sneaky, yet lovable, smile – you cleared your throat and looked away.

“You need to call Yoongi,” you said, standing your ground, “or else you’ll be the one who won’t have any friends.”

“Eh, knowing me, that’s inevitable,” he waved a hand, dismissing the thought. “I just want to have you.”

Little needle stabs poked at your stomach after he said this. You blinked, preparing to answer, only to realize that his quick wit had momentarily rendered you completely speechless. Jungkook used that to his advantage.

“I’m thinking breakfast,” he said, changing the topic so quickly, it was like he had the attention span of a squirrel. “Do you have any food here?”

Deeply impressed with his determination to slither out of this situation unharmed – because Yoongi sure was going to rip him a new one – you stuttered, “n-no, wait. I mean, we have milk and—”

“That’s what I thought,” he replied, nodding to himself. Then, he stood up from the bed and ordered, “get dressed. We’re going grocery shopping.”

“Grocery—is that necessary?” you crossed your arms, watching Jungkook pace the room and, most likely, regret his decision to spray his own T-shirt with water because he did not have anything else to wear. “I always have cereal for breakfast.”

“It’s not just cereal we need to think of,” he pointed out, choosing to just settle for that T-shirt. It was supposed to be warm outside anyway. “We have to stock up on food so we wouldn’t have to leave this room for the rest of the day.”

You raised your eyebrows. “You were serious about that?”

“I’m serious about everything,” he retorted and then, untying the towel on his waist in order to put his jeans on, he nodded at you and urged, “come on.”

Not moving one bit, you declared, “call Yoongi first.”

“I’ll call him later.”

“Call him now,” you insisted. “He’s been worried sick since last night.”

“He’s probably still hungover, I’ll call him later—”

“Jungkook,” you said, your voice firm. You didn’t want to enter another conflict with him but, now that you two were obviously going to be spending a lot of time together, it was important for you both that Jungkook actually took responsibility for the things that he did. “He didn’t sound drunk at all when he called me last night. Call him.”

As stubborn as he’d ever been, Jungkook shrugged – and then nearly toppled over as he lost his balance while pulling his jeans up his legs – and said very casually, “then maybe he was high and you couldn’t tell over the phone.”

You could have laughed at this.

“Oh, no, trust me. I’ve talked to a high Yoongi once before,” you said. “I can tell.”

He had several other arguments up his sleeve – excuses were his specialty – but you looked determined to shoot down every single one of them and, at the end of the day, Jungkook didn’t want to spend the rest of the day arguing with you about this.

“Fine,” he gave in. “Give me five minutes and a soundproof room.”

You knew this wasn’t a compromise – Jungkook didn’t look like he’d changed his mind and suddenly understood that he had to do this; he looked like he was only doing this as a favor to you – but it was still something, so you crawled down the bed towards where he’d left his phone last night, and handed it to him.

“He’s not going to yell—okay, he probably is,” you admitted, “but you deserve it. Go talk to him in the hall, though. I’ll get dressed.”

This intrigued Jungkook and he took one last chance to stall, “ooh, can I watch?”

“No,” you answered and got off the bed, watching him buckle his belt. “You focus on your redemption.”

“My redemption,” he repeated, mocking the pretentious word and still refusing to move.

Ignoring that, you pushed him out of your dorm and into the hallway and, waiting for a second to make sure he really was dialing Yoongi’s phone number – “I’m doing it, alright? But if you’d rather I helped you get dressed—” – you shut the door and returned to your room to find some clothes.

When Jungkook returned several minutes later, he looked more solemn than when he’d left, but the glint in his eyes wasn’t too far gone.

“Did he give it to you good?” you asked, as you rolled up the sleeves of your cardigan.

“Actually, I think he was holding himself back a little,” Jungkook replied, scratching his right ear to indicate just how much yelling he’d had to endure out in the hall. Then, inhaling and seemingly dropping everything he’d just heard, he asked, “so, you ready to go? I was thinking it’d be nice to have some eggs.”

You spent the rest of Saturday in your dorm room, being about as unproductive as it was possible for two people to be. You got through two movies (you’d tried to watch five; Jungkook had no patience to sit through the rest) and finished a full bag of popcorn (you’d opened three; the rest of it ended up on the floor of your room as you played a very unsuccessful game of throw-and-catch and then, consequently, throw-and-try-to-hit).

You lost count of how many tears of laughter you’d shed. Or how many times you’d punched his shoulder. Or how many times he cut you off with a kiss when you gave more attention to the movie than to him.

“You’re like a retriever,” you told Jungkook that night, when the two of you were laying on your backs, side-to-side, your hands and hearts intertwined. “You’re hyper-active, unpredictable, and you need constant attention.”

“Also self-absorbed, arrogant, and inconsiderate,” he added, mentioning all the colorful adjectives you’d called him over the course of this one day.

You exhaled in a half-snort, trying to pull your hand out of his, but failing when he refused to let go, pulling on your hand until you turned to your side to face him instead.

“Is there anything good about me?” he asked you.

You squinted. “Are you fishing for compliments?”

Jungkook smiled, shaking his head. “No. I’m just asking. Because if there’s not, then why do you put up with me?”

“Because you’re trying,” you offered, “because you never give up. You work hard, you’re dedicated and determined. You’ve always got your eyes on the prize—”

He cut you off, “that sounds like the opposite of all the negative things you’d said about me.”

You didn’t see the problem there and you shrugged your shoulders.

“There are two sides to every coin,” you said, unsure if he expected you to shower him in compliments at all times, regardless if he deserved them or not. Actually, knowing Jungkook, that was probably precisely what he expected.

“You didn’t call me funny,” he pointed out then.

“Because you’re not,” you dead-panned.

Jungkook scoffed and looked away from you, declaring with great dignity, “I happen to think I have a great sense of humor.”

“You happen to think a lot,” you mumbled.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You snickered. “Here’s another one – you can always turn a negative situation into something better.”

Jungkook lowered his eyes to your intertwined hands, the smile on his face growing fainter, even if the atmosphere in the room remained as laid-back as before.

“Not always,” he said in a hushed tone, not daring to pose the risk of ruining the good-natured banter.

Even though he was careful, it was still obvious that you’ve hit a sensitive spot. Not having any intention to do so, you’ve brought back the fact that, in all twenty-three years of his life, Jungkook hadn’t managed to turn the negative opinion of his father into something better.

“But you always try,” you said, less confident now that you saw how easy it was to trigger something that was too big to fix with just a compliment.

“That’s not enough sometimes,” he said, purposefully avoiding sad undertones and, this way, making himself sound even sadder.

“And other times,” you argued, just as persistent as he was, “it’s more than enough. Stop painting everything in black and white, you always do that.”

Noticing that this was turning into a fight that neither of you would win, Jungkook looked at you with a half-smile on his face. “I thought I always turned the negative situations into positive.”

“You don’t do that when it comes to you,” you replied. “Your biggest flaw is being too hard on yourself.”

In the time that he’s been a member of Parental Advisory – and even before, when he was just an heir of a multi-millionaire – Jungkook had had nearly every single one of his flaws pointed out: none of them were new, he was already aware of them all.

He worked on some of them – the ones that he thought would genuinely help him improve: practicing new singing techniques, making sure his band was his first priority, learning how to communicate with his audiences and how to write lyrics that held more impact.

He’d never had anyone tell him that he tried too hard. And he’d never realized that that was true this quickly, either.

Jungkook didn’t consider himself to be someone who wanted to accommodate others. He never followed the societal standards if they contrasted with his wishes. He didn’t care about what other people thought of him; as it turned out, he worried about his own perception of himself instead.

“Maybe it helps me improve,” he said, not feeling like he deserved the credit for this particular flaw when he hadn’t succeeded in changing himself for the better yet.

“Maybe,” you agreed, giving his hand a supportive squeeze. “But give yourself a break sometimes. You’re really not all bad.”

“I needed you.”

You were teasing him and expected him to bite back in an equal way, but the serious tone of his voice took you by surprise. “What?”

“I needed you,” he repeated, “to be able to turn the negative into positive. You’re my better half.”

Despite the beating of your heart and the warmth that spread to your face and forced you to smile, you still shook your head.

“I’m not,” you said, meaning it, “you’re a full person. Not just a half.”

You thought he’d let go of you so he could protest and insist that he was right, but he did no such thing. Instead, he held you tighter and, for a moment or two, being pressed so tightly against each other really did make you feel as though you were two individual parts of the same set – good on your own, but great when paired together.

Jungkook didn’t let go of you the whole Saturday night or the next morning, or the afternoon. That made your normal, everyday functions very complicated – like brushing your teeth, when he was hugging you from behind and purposefully snoozing with his head on your shoulder – but you’d have been out of your mind to complain.

When you arrived to his parents’ house for your Sunday night dinner, Jungkook still had one arm around your waist, as if touching you came naturally to him and he didn’t even realize he was doing it.

As soon as his mother opened the door for you two, she could tell that there was something different about you – maybe it was the fresh glow of having spent the whole weekend locked up together, or maybe she could read your minds – but the wide smiles on your faces were too beautiful of a sight for her to question it.

“Come in,” she encouraged, “it’s lovely to see you, like always.”

“Ah, you’re here already!” Jungkook’s father climbed down the stairs just as you two passed the threshold into the house. Feeling the way Jungkook tensed – his usual reaction – you tried to make up for it by smiling widely.

“Hello,” you said, suddenly feeling ridiculous to be grinning like this for no reason.

“Son,” his father said, acknowledging Jungkook’s presence with a nod and earning one from him in return. “Are you feeling better, dear?”

You didn’t realize his question was directed at you so, for a moment, the four of you lingered awkwardly in the hallway while you waited for Jungkook to answer before you realized that, for one, Jungkook’s father had never called his son “dear”, and, furthermore, it was you who had supposedly gotten sick in the middle of the company barbecue this Friday.

“Oh!” you blinked, trying to remember if Namjoon mentioned what sort of illness he was going to give as your excuse. “Yes, thank you. I’ve gotten some rest and I-I’m much better now.”

“That’s good!” Jungkook’s mother said. Nor her, nor her husband seemed suspicious even though Jungkook inhaled sharply, attracting their attention. “We were very worried when you left early – if you’d stayed just a second longer, we could have driven you home ourselves, we were going to go back anyway.”

“Oh, that’s alright,” you replied, aware that Jungkook didn’t know about this part of your Friday night – he hadn’t asked if you’d left the barbecue early – and, evidently, learning of this right here, right now, didn’t exactly please him. “My friend from university was there and he was kind enough to offer me a ride back to campus.”

Jungkook’s father cleared his throat – an involuntary reaction, similar to that of his son’s before – and gave you a kind, almost apologetic look, “if Jungkook had gone with you, he could have been the one who drove you home.”

That offended you as much as it offended Jungkook – but for different reasons. Jungkook’s dignity was obviously hurt because he had, once again, let his father down. But you were displeased because his father made it sound as though you needed a chaperone. As though you were some damsel in distress.

“No, really, I’m glad he didn’t go. I wouldn’t have wanted him to leave early,” you ended up saying, your polite nature persevering. You could understand Namjoon a lot more now – it was easy to let your real feelings slip if you weren’t paying attention to what you were saying, but hiding them under a mask of good manners and respect, was far more beneficial in the long run. “And, actually, it was even better that he was back on campus, because he helped me out a lot this weekend. Really, I probably wouldn’t have recovered as quickly as I did if it weren’t for him.”

You weren’t just saying that to make Jungkook look better – but there was still gratitude in his eyes when you met his gaze – because he had truly turned your weekend into a time of healing just by spending it with you.

“That’s wonderful,” Jungkook’s mother was the one who responded – Jungkook’s father just smiled mysteriously – as she brought a hand through her son’s hair in adoration, “let’s head to the dining room now, alright? The food is getting cold. You can tell me how your semester’s going. I assume you’ve got finals coming up soon, isn’t that right?”

That was right – well, sort of; you still had about a month of classes left – and it prompted you to start a conversation about school, which allowed Jungkook to casually bring up the fact that he’d knocked his professors off their feet by passing all the tests that they had predicted he would fail. His father, of course, did not express his surprise or say anything encouraging, but he gave a very impressed nod and that was more than enough.

The dinner only seemed to last a few minutes – it flew by like it always did – and you found yourself in your already usual position: offering Jungkook’s mother to clean up, while she forbade you from doing anything and insisted you stayed back and relaxed.

Relaxing was what you and Jungkook had done here last Sunday – before his mother knocked on the door of his bedroom and interrupted you two – so, not very excited to have history repeat itself, you didn’t mind when Jungkook made an excuse to leave early today.

His mother seemed sad to hear that – dessert was just as important part of dinner as the actual main course – but she didn’t push you to stay. Maybe because she could see the look in Jungkook’s eyes and she knew him well enough to understand that, although he had a sweet tooth, her son would have gladly rejected dessert just to get to spend more time alone with you.

However, alone time wasn’t the reason why Jungkook wanted to leave early – you learned that as soon as you sat down in his car and saw his hand lingering by the ignition, not ready to put the key in just yet.

“You okay?” you asked tentatively, already trying to analyze the dinner in your mind, hoping to come across a moment that could have stuck with him.

“I didn’t know,” Jungkook said finally, “that you had to leave early. I’d assumed the barbecue ended and that was why you got back to the dorm.”

You lowered your eyes, realizing that your failed attempt to get to the bottom of things on Friday night – it was generous to even call it an attempt, considering that you were ripping each other’s clothes off within twenty minutes of seeing each other – had now caught up to you.

“Yeah,” you said. “I got Yoongi’s call in the middle of dinner, and told him I’d go back to campus to look for you. He told me you went missing, I wasn’t going to sit around eating grilled sausages and wait for you to turn up.”

That wasn’t exactly what Jungkook was trying to talk to you about – he’d already put the pieces together – and, taking a moment to admit to himself that he did feel guilty about this, he exhaled before speaking again.

“You could have told my dad the truth,” he said. “Or you could have left without bothering with an excuse, he would have probably assumed it was my fault, anyway.”

“I’m not stupid,” you replied, “you’re trying to make progress with your father. You may not be doing very well, but why would I halt your process? I’m on your side, remember?”

He nodded. “I remember. I’m just saying, y-you didn’t have to do that. You didn’t have to stand up for me tonight, either.”

“Technically, I did,” you replied, smiling now. “We started to go to these Sunday night dinners for a reason.”

For a good minute, Jungkook really struggled to follow your train of thought. Even though it couldn’t have been more than a month, these dinners with you had already become a part of his routine, so the fact that you were, theoretically, only here to prove Jungkook’s maturity to his father, seemed very obsolete now.

“Well,” Jungkook said, considering your new situation. Chuckling lightly, he added, “that’s stupid now, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

“Pretending to be dating when we actually are.”

Catching the perfect opening, you teased, “we are?”

He gave you a look that dared you to test him.

“We haven’t been on one date,” you defended – sensibly so, really.

Jungkook narrowed his eyes as he looked at you, wanting to point out the flaws in your words, but having a hard time finding any, because, in the normal sense of the word, you hadn’t actually gone on any dates with him.

“We went to my party last weekend,” he still tried, figuring that the term ‘date’, when used loosely, could really mean just two people hanging out together.

You scrunched your nose, enjoying this game. “Was that a date?”

“We spent the whole weekend together,” he tried again.

“Was that a—?”

“You are my girlfriend,” Jungkook cut you off finally, his voice forceful and determined. “And you have no say in that matter.”

He looked you right in the eyes as he said this – boldly challenging your undeniable authority over this moment in the car – and you tried not to, but still ended up laughing.

“You’re taking away my freedom of choice,” you said.

“Are you saying,” he asked in a teary tone because his go-to maneuver in cases like this, was extracting pity, “you don’t want to be with me?”

“I’m not,” you replied, resisting him with surprising ease. You’d taken a page from his book and you were almost gloating as you watched how flustered he became with every word that you said, “I’m just wondering why you can’t ask me out like a normal person. Like someone who hadn’t known me for years.”

He observed your face for a second, making sure that you were serious – you were – and then sighed so deeply, it was like he was hoping to cleanse his dignity of whatever damage your words had done to it.

“You like me like this, don’t you?” he asked, aware that you had turned the tables on him.

“Like what?” you were still grinning. You absolutely liked him like this. “Do you think you’re too good to ask someone to be your girlfriend? Is that beneath you somehow or—”

“I love you,” he said sternly, cutting you off so quickly and successfully that your throat dried up as soon as he said this. “Please be my girlfriend.”

Biting the inside of your mouth to stop yourself from smiling at the juxtaposition of his pink cheeks and his determined eyes – while also, cringing at the cliché words that you’d forced him to say – you nodded and did not say anything else.

“What, that’s all I get?” Jungkook widened his eyes, scoffing in disbelief. “I ask you to—and you nod your head?”

You couldn’t help yourself as you replied, “I’ll think about it.”

Completely flummoxed, Jungkook examined your features without blinking or breathing. You really did have him right where you wanted him. If someone had told him that the reason why you stopped being friends once upon a time, was because he had too much influence over you, he wouldn’t have believed them.

“Enjoy this while you can,” he said a minute later, shaking his head and putting the key in ignition before finally starting the car. “You have endless weekends like this ahead of you, try to keep me on my toes.”

This didn’t put out your fire as you continued, “is that a challenge?”

“That,” he said, his voice more promising than threatening, “is a warning.”

You laughed before relenting just because you didn’t think it was fair to have his confession linger in the air like that, “I love you, too, Jungkook.”

He rolled his eyes, backing out of the street where he’d parked his car. “Oh, now you say that.”

“Better late than never,” you pointed out in a laid-back tone.

“Better all the time than late,” he retorted.

“You’re needy,” you said.

Jungkook didn’t skip a beat as he drove down the street back towards your campus, and still found enough time to glance at you, “you’re uncooperative.”

“You’re prideful,” you shot back.

“You’re controlling.”

“You’re reckless.”

“I love you,” he challenged.

“I love you more,” you fought back.

Jungkook cocked an eyebrow at this. “Don’t go there. I like to win and I am not above proving to you how much I love you the whole night tonight.”

A simmering fire in your stomach suddenly erupted into a bright flame.

“I have an early class tomorrow morning,” you said, more of a reminder to yourself than to him. “We both do, actually.”

He merely scoffed. “You think that would stop me?”

You shook your head, chuckling. “Just drive. Like you said, we have endless weekends like this ahead of us.”

And, even though you’d spent the bigger part of the weekend bickering and bantering, teasing and playing, both of you felt yourselves smile at the prospect of getting to do this again at the end of the next week. And then, at the end of the week that came after that. And then, the week after that. And after that.

At the end of every week, really. For as long as you wanted – be it the rest of your lives, or until the world ended.

keep reading | masterlist

[angry-geese]

Formaggio x Reader

Warnings: nsfw. mutual pining, fluff. Shameless smut, oral (fem receiving), fingering, tender sex. Fem!Reader

Notes: one bed trope turned confession and smut

Formaggio definitely didn't have this planned from the start.

He didn't expect his shitty car to break down in front of the only motel for miles. He certainly didn't know there was only one room available, neither did he know it only had one bed. He'd never heard how messy of a sleeper you were from Risotto, and how on several occasions you'd woken up nearly laying on of your boss.

He truly had no clue.

The mission technically wasn't a bust. It went alright; the job was done, that's about the best you can ask for. It's not often bad days end so early, and with so few casualties. It had been a long day, and all you were looking forward to was a night in some shady motel. The sooner this day was over the better.

Over the year you'd been assigned to the hitman team, not much had happened. You settled into the life rather easy. It wasn't too different from when you first joined Passione, only now you had someone to watch your back. Formaggio had been your partner for a few months. He was insufferable, but in a good way. To you, he was like an annoying little brother. Your constant scheming was getting on the nerves of everyone around you. You two were close- as close as you could get in your line of work.

You weren't entirely oblivious, you had to have known just a bit. The two of you knew the risks. Hitmen don't get happy endings; Passione is not a line of work you grow old and retire in. It wasn't love in an innocent sense- neither of you would risk that- but it was some twisted form of affection. You chalked it up to a childish crush, and prayed things would pass. His desire ran deeper, and had a malicious streak to it. You were not innocent either, but you were less up front with your emotions. They didn't dictate you. His did.

Just what he wanted with you, he wasn't sure. He knew he had to have you. It was more of a need than a want. He found you to be different than his one night stands. He wanted more than just sex- though he wanted that too. While you cared about him, you'd never dare tell him that. You didn't want to face the relentless bullying that would come with a confession should it fail.

The best you two could do was get a motel for the night. You were too far from the hideout to take a cab, and the trains don't run at this hour. Ghiaccio wouldn't be out until the morning to get you. The hotel is decent- you'd spent enough nights in roach-motels to not be picky. It was a small bed and breakfast, hosted in a large Italian villa, run by an older married couple. It was too open for your taste; you two would be noticed there. You make polite small-talk with the owners, finding out you two were the only guests for the night.

You suppose if they get too nosy, the bodies won't be discovered for a while.

Going up to your room proved to have one major problem: the bed. Or lack of a second one.

Formaggio is the first to speak. "I can sleep on the floor-"

You cut him off with: "it's fine. We can share."

"Are you sure?"

"Trust me, you can't be any worse than Risotto. The guy takes up the entire bed."

You've shared a bed with friends before, why would this be any different?

It's almost suspicious how little of a fight he puts up. Any of the others would have argued more- or even fought for the bed themselves.

"I call the shower." You say, heading for the bathroom. You really should wash some of the blood off, the lady at the front desk looked a bit worried.

"It's all yours." He says, although he had no plans of using it. Being considerably less bloody than you, he has no plans to. Usually he's an ass about it.

If you invited him in...

While you're showering, he gets settled in, idly flipping through tv channels. He settles on an action movie he's seen about a hundred times. He's made you watch it before- on multiple occasions. You never quite understood why he liked it. It was good enough background noise while the two of you talked.

When you come out of the bathroom, you've changed into some shirt that was probably stolen from Risotto. Everyone took his hoodies- they were oversized and it was basically tradition at this point. He didn't mind. The guy doesn't wear much other than his work clothes. Days off aren't exactly in his vocabulary. Formaggio doesn't have a change of clothes- having much less foresight than you- and instead strips down to his boxers. He makes not of the way you avert your eyes.

"One of us should watch the door," you say, dramatically flopping down on the bed, "I don't think we were followed, but you can never be too sure."

And there you were, the voice of reason as always.

"I'll take first watch," he says before you can even offer.

Just wanting the day to be over, you agree.

Really, you shouldn't have trusted him to stay awake. The bed was just too comfortable, and he was so tired. He was already preparing his excuse for when you would scold him in the morning. Very few people would follow you all the way out here, and you'd be able to spot any enemies from miles away. If there was any danger, the two of you would have plenty of time to flee.

He's sprawled out over most of the bed. The only out of place thing is how warm his body feels. It doesn't even register that it's you he's holding until your snore.

It's oddly domestic, the way he cradles you in his arms. The sight of your sleeping form makes affection swell in his chest. He pulls you so your back is flush against his chest, glad that you're a heavy sleeper. Your warmth and steady breathing threatens to lull him back to sleep. To him, if you were around, it meant he was safe. Its not like he ever got to hold you this close.

"Newbie." He says, checking if you're still awake. Only he got to call you that, anyone else got punched.

To his surprise, you nuzzle into his arms. He says your name once again, but you still don't stir. It should have occurred to him a long time ago how wrong this is. Sleepily he pulls you closer, your back pressing flush to his bare chest. Your hair tickles his exposed skin, the smell of your shampoo is comforting. You shift in your sleep, only brushing against him for a second, but its enough to set him off. He's already half hard, his growing erection pressing against your soft thigh.

What is he, a damn teenager, getting hard over your bare legs?

If you were anyone else, he might have less shame. Maybe he doesn't want to scare you off. What you don't know can't hurt you. Formaggio palms himself through his boxers. Gently he tugs the blankets aside. Your shirt has rolled up a bit, exposing the lacy pair of panties you're wearing. You wanted this as much as him, but you were a lot less hesitant to act on it.

So when you eventually wake up to Formaggio grinding against you, you don't stop him. He does it so sloppily that it's hard to tell if he's even awake. He is- you only find that out when you shift to a more comfortable position.

He freezes, muttering several apologies before moving away. Really, you weren't bothered, but he's so caught up in himself that he doesn't notice. It's hard to deny the heat that pools in your stomach.

"Do you want to?" Although you know the answer is yes, you're still afraid to ask.

He nods.

"I'm all yours." You say. "What do you want to do to me?"

"I want to make you feel good."

You move so you're almost sitting in his lap, legs crossed. Maybe its adrenaline, or a sudden burst of confidence- you're pulling your shirt over your head, tossing it aside. Although its dark, you watch as his eyes widen when he realizes you have no bra on underneath. He'd never admit to getting flustered, but your teammates had seen the way he looked at you for weeks. It was the worst kept secret in the hideout. Maybe in passing you told Melone how you felt. Maybe he ran with it. Maybe he told Risotto to assign you two on this mission.

His hand dips between your thighs, his thumb brushing across your clit through the thin fabric of your panties. You're not really wet- not yet- but the start of it is there. He's observant enough to quickly figure out what you like. Slick begins to collect as he works his long fingers over your clit. Your gasps and moans only spur him on further. With no hesitation he shoves your panties to the side, working you open with his fingers. His spare hand moves to your breasts, tweaking your nipples into stiff peaks. He can't help but find himself mesmerized at the way the move when you do. He takes one into his mouth, gently nipping at the soft flesh, swirling his tongue around the nub of flesh. He grunts when your nails dig into his scalp.

He pulls away, releasing your skin with a pop. "You like that sugar-tits?"

"Call me sugar-tits again and I'll stab you." You say. "Christ that is the least sexiest thing you could say."

He laughs, the noise coming from deep in his chest.

You widen your legs a bit to give him room to settle between them, lifting your hips so he can pull your panties off. His attention is pretty hard to pull away from your tits, but eventually you manage. He leans down for a kiss- it isn't much more than a peck. Although it's dark you can see the red that dots his cheeks. You pull him back to deepen the kiss, nipping at his lower lip until he lets you in his mouth. When you pull away, a line of saliva connects the two of you. He trails kisses down your neck, to your stomach, leaving dark marks along the way. He licks a long stripe from your bellybutton to your mound.

He hopes the walls of this place are thick. And part of him doesn't. While he isn't eager to get a noise complaint, he wants everyone in the hotel to hear how good he makes you feel.

Latching onto the bundle of nerves, his tongue traces circles around your clit. You grind down against his mouth, giving him silent permission to go further. He's not the most talented, but it doesn't take him long to find a pace you like. One of his hands grabs at the soft flesh of your ass, trailing across the curves of your body, the other traces up your slit. He works you open with his fingers. Just one at first, then a second, curling against your g-spot. He could watch your form writhe under him forever if you'd let him. Something in your stomach tightens like a coil being wound.

He could die happy with his head between your thighs.

He pulls away as you're about to cum, a smug grin spreading across his face. His chin glistens in the dim light. Formaggio makes a show of licking his fingers, groaning at the taste.

"What the hell?" You whine. "Why'd you stop!?"

"I just can't help myself, sweetheart." He wastes no time in freeing himself from his boxers. He's big- about six or so inches, and thick. Its only a bit intimidating. The hairs towards the base are neatly trimmed, trailing up his stomach.

He can't stifle his groan as he slides into you. It's better than he ever imagined- and he's put an embarrassing amount of thought into this. His collected demeanor fails entirely, and he's burying his face in your chest and babbling. At first he's giving you a moment to adjust to his size, but as time goes on he grows worried that he'll cum too soon.

Your arms wrap around him, pulling him close. He sucks a dark mark into your shoulder.

"Fuck- I've wanted this for so long."

The way he says it makes you feel giddy. It almost feels childish to get so excited over that kind of thing. It's quite intimate, the way he's curled up around you. His arms cage you under his body, his head buried in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent.

"Me too." You say weakly.

Lazily you grind against him, urging him to move.

The pace he sets is lazy, keeping a bit slow as to not hurt you. With all of the prep, it's not exactly a problem. He's still a bit cautious, but when you drag your nails across his back and tell him "harder" that goes out the window. The way you clench around him almost makes him cum on the spot. He hooks an arm under your leg, pulling it onto his shoulder, angling your hips so he can hit deeper than before. From this angle he watches the way your tits bounce with each thrust. His cock strokes at sweet spots you didn't even know you had. The way his pelvis grinds against your clit threatens to send you over the edge, the heat that pools low in your stomach soon turning scorching in nature.

He groans when you clench around him, already so close to your own orgasm.

"Fuck- newbie, you're gonna make me cum."

You can only moan in response. Your own orgasm rolls over you like a wave. Beneath him you writhe as the pleasure becomes too much, snapping the coil in your stomach. You're reduced to a shaky mess, trembling under his touch. He pulls out, giving himself a few pumps before cumming across your stomach.

He tosses you a spare shirt to clean yourself off with before collapsing onto the bed. It's not long until he's pulling you into his arms. The sight of your tired form leaning into him so eagerly makes his heart race. Your head rests on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. Idly he plays with your hair.

"Is this where I ask what we are?" You say it like it's a joke, but the laugh behind it sounds a bit too nervous.

"Do you... want to go out?" He asks.

You nod. In the dim light he swears he can see you blush.

"Do you?" You ask.

Formaggio nods. He swears his heart skips a beat. Internally he scolds himself for getting so excited over such a thing. He feels like a kid with a crush. For just this moment he'll let it slide. He can only pray you won't tell the others about this.

You roll him on his back, pinning him under your hands, straddling his stomach. It really wouldn't take much effort on his end to throw you off, though he doesn't. He's too sleepy and content to do so.

"Want to try for round two?"

Dramatically he groans, but it really isn't long until he's getting hard again.

You'd be the death of him.