#thank you thank you for that one who told me. what these are called/how to do this. uee hee hee

[sukunasweetheart]

the tiger and his milk! 🐯

in this world, a certain tiger hybrid male keeps a keen eye on a cow hybrid female next door...

warnings; female reader, inaccurate?omegaverse, lactation without pregnancy, animal-human hybrid AU (but theyre more human than animal tbh just imagine them with ears and a tail), heat and rut, breeding, alcohol as aphrodisiac, bullying of the cervix, tit sucking, nipple teasing, biting, dry humping, overstimulation, sexual frustration, neighbours-with-benefits, knotting, f!masturbation, lots of cum, this is straight up just a hxntai oop

word count; 6.5k

dividers by @/saradika-graphics and @/thecutestgrotto

do NOT expect a serious and well-paced writing from this one, i was horny and the end result is just.... this. sorry not sorry, I AM WARNING YALL; this is one degenerate ass fic also forgive me for any inaccuracies in any of the tropes i used, i just cherry picked the parts i wanted and mixed it all together so...

moving to this new neighborhood hasn't been all too easy for you.

being a little low on money aside, there's a certain rambunctious neighbour who won't leave you alone. he playfully terrorises you with threats to eat you up, and makes comments that all go straight to your head, making you feel weak and flustered, leading you to cower beneath him. though you should firmly tell him to cut it out, you struggle to do this when you’re dealing with someone who could be a natural predator of yours, had you been an actual sow and not a hybrid. 

that, and also-

strangely, there's a part of you that doesn't despise the way he treats you. in fact, when you see his large, brutish hands and the veins that run up his arms, you feel yourself squeezing your thighs together. you brush it off as it being a result of your apparent loneliness and sexual frustration. there's nothing good that'd come out from being with such a discourteous man.

setting that aside... there are numerous other problems that you've been having to deal with, recently.

your breasts have been collecting milk faster, and much more than usual, recently.

even for cow hybrids, milk should only be produced when the female is pregnant, and for only a year or two at most after giving birth. for some unknown reason, you produce it all year round, even without needing to have children. doctor after doctor you've visited, and all they've told you is that you're a strange anomaly. there is nothing you can do about it except extract it every now and then, to relieve the pain and swelling.

tonight, that is what you're planning on busying yourself with, once you get home from your shitty office job.

walking towards your porch with a deep sigh, you hear a deep voice call out to you.

"bad day at work, dollface?" your terrible neighbour-- sukuna, he's called, asks you with a cigarette in his hand dressed in jeans and a black tanktop. his tail swishes playfully behind him.

dollface. one of the few nicknames he uses condescendingly to refer to you. it's either dollface, doll, or sweetheart, and you don't recall ever hearing him actually use your name.

"um, work was alright... thank you for asking. have a good evening."

you like to make things short and stop any further conversation from happening, even though it might come off as a little awkward. one of sukuna's ears flick at your dry response, but he doesn't seem to bother you any further as you hurriedly unlock your front door and head inside.

sukuna drops his cigarette bud on the ground, and puts out the flame by stepping on it. you're not very sociable, as per usual...

but your sweet, passing scent makes for a little growl to rise in the back of his throat. sweet milk. that's what you always smell like. how curious. how tempting.

once you're home, you immediately grab your breastmilk pump that sits beside your sink. it hasn't been too long since you last cleaned it. you unhook your bra, and grimace at the wet stains on it, from leaking bit by bit throughout the day.

you press the pump up against one of your breasts and press the on button. it starts doing it's job. you sigh from relief, and watch as it fills up quite quickly. you wonder what you should do with all of it...

you stop the pump to empty it out into a glass bottle. it's a tedious process. sometimes... sometimes you wish you had a partner who could help you with it. sometimes, you wish someone would latch their mouth on and extract you directly-

what if he-- sukuna- did that for you? forcefully held you down and-

your eyes widen and your tail droops with shock at your own intrusive thoughts. heavens, no! you need to get yourself a partner. it's been too long. you hope you're not heading into heat already? it's not time for that yet, at least not according to your usual cycle. shaking your head as you extract the remnants of the milk from your breasts, you finish up quickly.

at least tomorrow, it will be saturday.

you'd forgotten about how overgrown the grass in your front yard had gotten. so, even though it's a saturday, and despite how you'd love to stay inside with all the curtains shut and doors locked tight... an unpleasant duty calls outside.

but despite the meticulous preparation of lathering enough sunscreen over yourself in protection against the sun's rays - the lawn mower suddenly doesn't want to heed to your calling.

your face scrunches up into a frown. darn thing.

the useless machine splutters and makes an obnoxious noise only in the beginning before giving out, no matter how many times you try to rev it back up again.

"goddamn it. you stupid thing," you mutter under your breath, crouching down to inspect it.

"need help?"

sukuna leans against the fence that is shorter than his own height, watching you with amusement. he'd been observing you for quite a few minutes by now.

"no thank you. i'm quite alright..." you respond without turning back. you know damn well whose voice that belongs to.

but does he listen? of course not! you hear the noise of the man easily bypassing the fence by elegantly hopping over it, before walking over towards you. how funny, even the fence fails to serve it's purpose in this moment.

"like that's believable. you think verbally degrading it will make it work?" sukuna snorts, coming around and shooing you away from the lawn mower.

he gives it a nice big rev, but not much happens. you smile slightly, wondering if he was going to make a fool of himself, after all that big attitude.

sukuna brings his foot against the side of the machine and gives it a hard kick. the sound startles you.

and now it's starting up nicely, and beginning to do it's job.

the man begins to mow your lawn for you, without another word. you stand around, not knowing what to do... your ears flicker as you stare at him doing your job for you. it feels odd. what is he up to?

well... no matter the hidden motive, it's true that he's doing you a huge favour. perhaps you should at least make a cold beverage for him, once he finishes with your yard. after observing him for a while, you head back inside to search for what would serve as an appropriate iced drink.

by the time you've stepped back outside, the yard is cut neatly and sukuna is in the midst of returning your lawn mower to your garage.

you silently hand him over his drink, and he takes it with a smirk.

"it's gone..." he suddenly comments.

"what's gone?" you question, with a raised eyebrow.

"that sweet smell that always surrounds you."

he proceeds to down his drink very quickly, not breaking eye contact with you. then, he starts chewing on the ice, tail swishing mischievously behind him.

"i... don't know what you mean." you cross your arms.

"hmm. playing dumb, i see. that's fine, i suppose."

you stand awkwardly with him in silence, simply listening to him crunching away on the ice. the heat from the sunlight gets more and more unbearable.

"if you're done with your drink... i think i'll start heading back inside now. thank you for your help today," you tell him politely, carefully taking your cup back from his hands.

he makes it seem like he's handing it over to you obediently, but then he tightens his grip against it when you're holding onto the glass, making you stare up at him in confusion. he pulls it back, so that you stumble closer to him.

"just letting you know. if you need any help, you can always ask me."

you're a bit nervous, but you try not to show it. does he know something? how much does he know? you feel your tail cowardly fall in between your legs. sukuna's ears give a light flick, but you don't know what that means.

"...we're neighbours, after all."

you look at him with distrust, holding onto your cup tighter. your gaze is unwavering as you meet his eyes.

"sure. i'll keep that in mind," you respond slowly.

seemingly satisfied, he lets go of your glass.

"thanks for the drink. see you."

it's a short backhanded wave he gives you, before he hops over the fence again. you narrow your eyes. just what kind of fence is this useless? can't even keep away one bad, bad man. you're not sure how much he's caught onto, but you sure hope he stops being interested in you with enough time. he easily sends odd tingles down your spine, and you don't like that one bit.

not at all...

the working part of an office job isn't actually that bad.

it's the people involved around you that makes it a living hell. nothing gets your blood pressure higher than your collusive colleagues and snobby superiors - especially the lazy ones who do everything to shove their workload onto other people.

such people are yet also, annoyingly obsessed with get-togethers and teamwork, which makes you laugh.

today is such an unlucky day, that you've been dragged off to an after-work gathering at some cheap restaurant with your shitty coworkers, all because one of them decided that they needed one.

nothing like being surrounded by a bunch of people that you hate, on a wednesday evening. you have to put on a fake smile, and remain the passive, agreeable coworker in this environment. they coerce you to drink more alcohol. you want to decline, but you feel as though you'll ruin the mood if you turn them down. you down a few pints of beer.

you can feel your breasts leaking again.

just let me go home, you think to yourself, for the fifth time in a row.

your wish is only granted after an hour or two later. you're still sober, maybe a little tipsy, seeing as you can feel the heat in your face from the alcohol. your body is probably not taking it very well today.

the first thing you do when you get home is washing your hands and settling down with your little trusty pump. when you undo your bra, you sigh in relief as your chest feels free. and also...

it's probably the alcohol acting as an aphrodisiac - you're a bit more sensitive tonight. you caress the swell of your breast and groan, your horniness overriding how tired you are. your other hand wanders down your panties, and your ears droop down.

you purse your lips together and let your fingers work against your clit for an orgasm that you know will be unsatisfactory, but you chase after such pleasure regardless. your breaths quicken, and you tilt your head back, closing your eyes. nearly there...

just when you were about to reach your first high of the night, a firm knock is heard from your door. just your luck. a ruined orgasm.

who can it be, at this time of the evening? you throw on a cardigan that just barely covers you up, and boldly stomp towards the door, irritated. you could give this person just about any piece of your mind.

but when you open the door, you're met with your most cunning and bothersome of a neighbour, sukuna. maybe it's because you're hornier than ever right now - you feel as though he looks even...hotter, tonight. his scent makes you dizzy.

sukuna had come by because he needed an ingredient for his dinner.

he wasn't expecting to be met with the eye candy that is your slightly disheveled self, with one hand keeping your loose cardigan together, while you're very obviously braless, judging by your nipples jutting out against the fabric. that, and the thick smell of your arousal that hit him right when the door had opened.

"wh-what do you want?" you ask, a little breathless, trying to keep it together.

sukuna looks down at you, trying to keep himself calm. this seems amusing. he doesn't think he'll be able to stop himself from tenting his pants soon, if he stays around you longer...

"you look like you were busy with something... sorry to interrupt," he voices slyly, his fangs showing when he smiles.

"just... get on with it, please," you frown, your legs squeezing together. you can never tell what he's thinking - whether he knows everything or if he's pretending to know everything.

"nothing much, just ran out of salt at home. could i get some of yours?" sukuna shrugs innocently, holding up his empty salt jar.

"hold on a second."

you turn around to button your cardigan up with a sigh of annoyance, and you tell him to come in while you grab your salt from the kitchen.

once sukuna steps inside, he observes a million details at once. the very first thing he sees is your little pump that you'd forgotten to put away there. there's no way that puny thing is enough for you, is it?

in your kitchen, you grab your jar of salt, and attempt to open the thing - but your arms feel like jelly at the moment. you grit your teeth and try harder, cursing at yourself for shutting it so tight the last time you used it. you begin to strain your arms further. sukuna marvels at this excellent opportunity he is granted.

your feelings of irritation are whisked away when a pair of hands gently land on top of yours, against the jar. his fingertips reach the lid through the gaps between your own fingers. you feel the bigger man's body warmth, when he comes around from behind. it makes you feel so weak. your tail is hanging off to the side, raised high.

sukuna applies a bit of pressure, and the jar comes off easily. you note how warm his large hands feel.

"i came here for the salt, but now i'm thinking maybe i won't need it anymore..." he whispers down at you. your ears can't help but flicker from his voice.

"what... do you mean by that?" you ask, not knowing what to think.

he guides your hands to put the salt down on the counter. and then his body presses up against yours a little harder. you can feel his growing boner against your behind, and you feel lightheaded. sukuna peers down longingly at the exposed side of your neck.

your pheromones mix with his, and his fluffy tail curls around your leg, almost possessively. sukuna's hands are still holding onto yours, and you feel your breaths get more laboured by the tension.

"i promised to lend my help, didn't i? c'mon..." he coaxes, speaking closely so that his breath grazes against the skin of your neck.

you feel yourself starting to sweat a little more - his body heat is just too much. your chest is uncomfortably full, and the thought of someone sucking on your sensitive nipples is enough for you to finally cave in, and play the fool for the night.

you break free from his grasp for a moment, and hesitatingly point to your couch.

"...sit. it's probably easier on the couch," you tell him, not looking his way. and now you're even shoving him towards it, impatiently.

"my, how demanding," he comments teasingly. he knows you purposefully broke the tension - to prevent him from taking the lead. but he obediently takes a seat on your couch. following that, you awkwardly mount him and sit on his lap.

sukuna watches with a softer smirk as you unbutton yourself again, revealing your leaky breasts with a flustered look on your face. sukuna's hit with that familiar sweet scent that's always been floating around you all this time - but now, it's right in front of him, in full force. it makes his mouth water. he was right about you lactating.

"....go ahead," you tell him shamelessly, yet still sorely embarrassed, cheeks feeling so warm that you're concerned you might pass out. "just be gentle," you warn him, looking at him with a little hesitation and pursed lips.

sukuna feels his cock twitch against you, and he wonders if you can feel it too, from the way you're sitting right on it. his own face feels quite flushed - any man would be the same if they were in his position. such a pretty thing in his lap, willingly undoing her buttons for him. he's never seen tits more beautiful than yours.

"hurry-" you breathe out, impatient, and moreover, shy from the way he's shamelessly admiring your face and chest with a dumb smirk plastered on his face.

not even a millisecond after you say it, he puts his searing hot mouth around one of your nipples. your brain ceases to function as a zap runs through your body, and you whine without meaning to, your back arching against the couch. though you grab at his shoulder, your other hand claps over your own mouth to muffle your moans.

the suction of his mouth does wonders for pleasure, nothing like the dull feeling that your mechanic pump gives. you hear his throaty growls as he sucks on your nipple, getting a mouthful of the taste of your sweet milk. you shudder under him, becoming pliant with his touch.

sukuna bathes in your warmth and the softness of your breasts, enjoying how he is able to breathe in your scent from this close. your milk isn't like anything he's ever had before. not too sweet and yet not bland - a taste that is unique to you...

his other hand squeezes your other nipple, making sure it isn't too lonely from his touch. you jerk your hips against him, whole body twitching from the pleasure, the joy of having your tits milked by someone else rather than yourself. you can't hold your moans back any longer.

"fuck... oh please..." you mumble, feeling your breast being drained of it's milk.

he stops sucking for a moment, and you see the beautiful but subtle blush on his cheeks, as he looks up at you like he's intoxicated. he lets his tongue out and flicks it up and down your erect nipple, rolling it around the areola. it makes you whimper and tremble in his lap.

"don't... tease me..." you say through gritted teeth, frowning at him while he merely chuckles at your reaction.

sukuna attaches his mouth to your other breast, as it's leaking so much - as if to beg him to drain it next.

your cunt is pulsing so bad, and you feel yourself drenching your panties already. you subconsciously grind down against him and his obvious boner, trying to relieve yourself, desperate to reach a proper orgasm this time. both of you are in a lusty haze, unconcentrated eyes, you're lost in pleasure and he's lost in the taste of you, your breast milk dripping down his chin as he messily gulps down with greed.

sukuna also bucks his hips up against you, cock straining in his pants - god, he's so hard that it hurts. when was the last time he's felt such a way? he breathlessly sucks and slurps everything out of you, feeling the milk pass down his throat and into his stomach. he could drink this shit forever.

he wants to cum. he's gonna fucking cum. into his pants no less, like a damn virgin. with the way you're rolling your hips around and grinding down on him like a whore, its only a matter of time.

"haah... sukuna... more- do it more," you plead, relishing in the pleasure of having your tits taken care of, while you get yourself off on his very obvious erection - rubbing your clothed cunt against him. it feels so good on your sensitive clit, you're gonna lose your damn mind.

sukuna doesn't pry his lips away from your nipple, but his hands come off your breasts - you feel his arms wrap around your waist instead, holding you down against him tightly, guiding your hips and helping himself dry hump you harder while his face is still all up in your tits.

your breathing quickens even further, and you grab fistfuls of his shirt on his back, shutting your eyes in anticipation-- before letting your orgasm crash over you completely. you gasp as your clit throbs intensely, and you feel slick leaking all over in your panties as you ride your climax out against sukuna's hard cock, shuddering as you do so.

sukuna groans with his mouth still on your breast, his orgasm coming a little later than yours, dick twitching as rope after rope of his cum soils his boxers, hips bucking up into you without control - it feels so restricted in his shorts, and he desperately wants to take it out. his lips finally leave your swollen nipple with a little pop sound. his large hands come to grope the soft flesh as he comes off his high, a dull throb ringing in his cock, one orgasm being far from enough.

"look at you, rubbing your cunt all over my cock to get yourself off, like a proper slut. aren't you a little too eager?" he teases breathlessly, with a weak smirk on his face.

"you're the one... that came onto me so strongly..." you pant, drunk from the waves of pleasure you just received, and from the endless twitching of sukuna's giant cock... he's still hard.

"just admit that you're perverted. arguably, even worse than what i am," sukuna mocks, pinching at your nipples, making you wince.

"shut up, you."

in the spur of the moment, you lift your hips up slightly to shove your hand down his pants to take his dick out due to irritation. sukuna gives the slightest flinch from the sensation of your hand, grabbing onto his now bare erection.

you begin to fiercely jerk him off with a frown on your face, wanting to punish him for his comments a few seconds ago, knowing he's still sensitive from his recent orgasm.

"fuck-! what're you-" he cuts his own voice off with a choked off gasp due to the tight grip of your hand against his twitching cock. he's back to bucking his hips again as you pump up and down with both hands, his dick already being lathered with his own cum making it easier for you. the noises that come out of him almost fills you with pride - and also surprise. you'd never thought that someone like him would ever moan in this way... you jerk him off faster, and a little harder, being fixated on his pretty looking cock that keeps jumping in your hands.

"shit! that's- enough-" sukuna gasps again, chest heaving and whole body jerking, but oddly, not attempting to stop you at all.

you watch in awe, as his cock spurts out several strings of white cum once again, his head tilted back with deep groans, dick pulsing - your hands keep away from it for the first few seconds just to observe, but then you help to milk it dry, grabbing his base and slowly stroking up and down. he shudders from your touch, and the sight of him being so sorely sensitive makes you feel your heartbeat in your pussy again.

he really does cum a shit ton. it goes for what seems to be like ages, never ending pulses of his cock and rope after rope tainting your hands, and his own stomach. the way he shivers before you, how captivating his groans sound, it all makes you want to do it all over again.

you slowly rub his tip against your palm, playing with his dick as if it were a toy - but this time, he grabs your wrist to stop you.

"enough..." he says with a low voice - and the look that he gives you sends a shiver down your spine.

he's beginning to smell a bit different. its not like before. and it's getting thicker by the second...

"ah, fuck.... i'm in rut," sukuna admits with a scowl, and a flushed face.

the realisation hits you like a truck.

"look at what you've done," sukuna growls as he grabs your hips and pushes you closer towards him, his cock impossibly harder. he's breathing heavily, and you see the precum that's gathering on his tip. he won't be able to hold himself back much longer, and you know it.

and curse the omega in you - you're unable to resist him, and you can feel yourself syncing with his rut, a strange swoop occurring in your stomach. his strong pheromones make you lightheaded and feverish, instigating your submissive side as you become obedient - sitting on his lap with an eager shine in your eyes, breathing heavy from his strong scent and your desire to be dominated.

you want to have your brains fucked out. you can't take it anymore.

as if reading your mind, sukuna lunges forward and practically throws you onto your back on your couch - you let out a yelp and watch as he pulls your shorts and panties down and casts them aside, stripping you completely. you feel so vulnerable, but his intense strength and desperation is only adding to your arousal.

he pushes your knees up and rubs his cock up against your clit, and puckering hole.

"look at all this slick. you want me that bad huh?" sukuna remarks darkly, sweat gathering on his temples.

you grit your teeth, fighting the urge to give him a meek response - having the strange desire to provoke and set him off until the end.

"you're the desperate one here..." you tell him breathlessly, sensing how his dick is practically begging to be inside you, with the way it twitches on your cunt.

your blood runs cold for a second, when you see the way he looks down at you, with a vein popping out on his forehead.

"...maybe i am," he relents, with a low voice, grabbing your face.

and then he leans down to shove his lips against yours, while thrusting his cock into you at the same time.

you whimper into the kiss as his tip hits your womb like nothing. you'd ignored how massive he was at the start, but now it's impossible to brush off.

"t-too big..." you mumble when he breaks away from your lips.

sukuna groans as he drags his cock in and out of your sopping cunt, practically holding him in an iron grip from the suction. your endless amount of slick coats his dick with plenty of lubricant to fuck you more easily.

"you can take it, doll. i'll make you take it..."

his eyes dilate as he begins to piston his hips at a fast but uneven pace, groaning shamelessly as his cock ravishes your pussy by hitting all the right places, heavy balls smacking against your ass with every thrust. the pleasure runs through your veins like electricity, and you feel high off the feeling of someone so big and strong using you like you were his fleshlight - to relieve his rut.

you can barely breathe from the way he pounds you, relentlessly pushing you to the limit, tears forming in your eyes and high pitched moans coming from your throat.

"ohh-! sukuna... oh, please please please..." you plead, almost sobbing.

he responds by leaning down to lather his tongue against your scent glands, sucking on them and rest of the skin on your neck. you shudder and let out another set of whimpers - and sukuna's fangs feel antsy, wanting to sink them into your flesh.

sukuna aims for the sweetness from your breasts, to distract himself. you cry out as he roughly latches onto your nipple and begins to suck as he squeezes your soft flesh. his cock feels like it's about to burst.

when he stimulates your nipples a certain way and his tip grazes your g-spot at the same time, you're hit with an orgasm that makes you squeal and has your cunt fluttering uncontrollably.

his dick gives in to the sudden milkings of your pussy and sukuna pushes his hips to settle himself into you as deep as he can - giving a choked off groan from the sudden climax as his cock swells up inside of you, anchoring itself.

the knowledge of him knotting you doesn't seem to matter as you enjoy the feeling of the warm gush of his cum pouring into your womb, his balls clenching with every rope that spurts out, messily coating your walls with white.

sukuna pants so heavily above you, abs flexing as he continues to orgasm in your warm cunt that still has a dull pulse from your previous climax. he nuzzles into the crook of your neck with a soft growl, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

your breathing relaxes as you lay still on the couch while sukuna weighs you down and breeds you properly, consequences be damned. you could try and fight him off, but it's been so long since you've been so sexually satisfied that your logical thinking has turned itself off. all you want to do is enjoy bathing in the pheromones of your alpha and let the heaviness of his large body drape over yours as he pumps you full of his babies.

sukuna is usually very careful about who he's around when he's in a rut - and he's always made sure either he or his partner had some sort of protection on before doing anything. he wouldn't want to go around having kids with the wrong people. it's hard to say whether you're wrong or right for him - he doesn't know much about you to judge yet...

but you make him feel so right.

and he's still fighting off the urge to mark you to make you officially his, with drool beginning to run down his chin. his fangs are making it unbearable; he needs to bite something right now.

"you look restless..." you tell him, getting him to tear his gaze away from your neck, to your face instead.

you pull him in for a messy kiss, slipping your tongue into his mouth. he feels the way you brush over his fangs, paying extra attention to them as you make out with him, and it makes him groan. you must have done this with someone else before. sukuna nips at your tongue and lower lip, doing his best not to break skin - trying to relieve himself of the urge to bite.

the swell of his knot is gradually subsiding, but you know that the night is far from over.

"which way to your bedroom?" sukuna asks after breaking away from your kiss, breathlessly.

"farthest down the corridor, past the kitchen.." you respond, feeling a little needy after he abruptly stopped the kiss like that.

"hold onto me."

he lifts you up easily with his arms, and you wrap your legs around his waist, arms over his shoulders. the display of strength makes your heartbeat quicken.

when you're laid upon the soft mattress of your bed, his lips come crashing down again - while his hips begin to give shallow thrusts, cock still hard and throbbing. sukuna kisses you like he's a man starved, and you feel as though he might actually swallow you up at this rate.

the strong grip on your hips tighten as his pace gets rougher. you have to break away to gasp and moan. every time he jostles your body, you feel his previous heavy load sloshing inside you, and it's getting too much. sukuna doesn't look like he's even entirely here, hips moving mindlessly and drool dripping down his chin - it's a terrifyingly arousing sight.

he tries to come down and kiss you again, but you have to push his face away - you're so out of breath that you're afraid you might pass out if he does that again. it's overwhelming, how his thick cock bullies itself against your walls over and over again.

sukuna doesn't seem too pleased that you're pushing him away; he holds you tighter and he adjusts his hips to fuck you deeper. you mewl loudly, but keep your hand weakly against his face - he doesn't force it away, but lets his tongue droop out, caressing your fingers with it. you feel him bite and suck on your hand as his sharp thrusts produce small bulges in your stomach.

you witness his eyes dilating again, and you swear you see hearts in them this time, your fingers still in his mouth.

his dick feels so, so good in your pussy. your intoxicating smell now surrounds him after coming into your bedroom, and it's driving him insane. he grunts above you, balls feeling heavy, dick pulsing as his tip finds its way knocking on your cervix. there's a thick ring of cream foaming on the base of his cock now, a mixed concoction of both his cum and your slick.

his thrusting gets sloppy and his hips stutter, meaning that he's going to orgasm again. sukuna's eyes roll back, as he messily "kisses" your hand, pushing himself balls deep into you at the final moment.

you arch your back at the sensation of his knot swelling up once again, cumming at this moment. sukuna almost topples over from the tightness, as the walls of your cunt flutter around his knot, effectively squeezing everything out of him.

"f-fu-uuck..." he drones out, his voice dragging the curse word out.

you feel him dumping every drop into your poor womb, emptying his balls. you're afraid that you'll get addicted to this "full" feeling, the warmth of his seed filling you up, the way your insides can feel his cock twitch violently with every thick string of cum he shoots out. you never imagined being held down and inseminated would feel this good.

sukuna's eyes are half-lidded, pleasure continuing to run up and down his spine. he pins your wrist down against the bed suddenly, and latches his mouth to one of your breasts - beginning to suck immediately, like he's trying to rehydrate himself with your milk. you shudder. it seems as though he's doing nothing but take, take, and take from your body... not that you'll stop him from doing so.

you run your fingers through his soft hair, catching your breath, slightly trembling each time he sucks a little too hard. shortly after he is seemingly content, he completely collapses his body over yours, face all up in your breasts, purring while his knot still sits inside of you.

you sense that it's only the beginning of a long, long night.

once the sun has rolled into the sky, you finally remember the fact that the weekdays haven't finished yet - and that you're supposed to be getting ready for work right now.

problem is, there's a certain someone clinging to your whole body from behind, still purring against the nape of your neck with a hand lazily groping the flesh of your tit. you can feel his fluffy tail curling around yours, possessively. you're sleepy, and his stupid purring keeps coaxing you to take a nap. he's a lot more docile and softhearted than you imagined. you supposed he'd be out of your house by now.

you reach out and feel around to grab your phone, to give your workplace a call to take the day off. while you're on the phone, sukuna places soft kisses down your back. you hope your boss can't hear the excessive vibration in the background. once you're done with that, you shove your phone under your pillow.

"i need a nap... you can use my shower, or go home, whichever you prefer," you tell him sleepily, shutting your eyes.

"is sleeping next to you also an option?" he asks from behind you, snuggling up closer.

"mm," you reply mindlessly, already dozing off. he slips his arm under your head. admittedly, his arm pillow does feel comfortable.

when you next wake up in a few hours time, you don't know what to feel when you notice that he's still next to you in bed.

"finally awake?"

"yeah... i'm surprised you haven't left," you mumble, following that with a yawn.

"i'm surprised you're not chasing me out," he shoots back.

"what would be the point? i'll see you again the moment i step outside the house."

"i bet you love that. being able to see me all the time," sukuna teases, twirling a strand of your hair with his finger.

"ugh, think what you will," you roll your eyes, trying not to be flustered.

you suddenly realise how thirsty and hungry you are.

"i'm starving... i don't remember what's in the fridge," you mumble to yourself.

"hop in the shower with me and i'll take care of all your meals today," he offers, smirking.

you don't really trust his intentions - especially something as intimate as showering together - but you are famished, and you don't think you will be bothered to cook at all today.

"what meals are we thinking?" you ask, curious.

"hm. well, how about steak?"

"... is that a threat?"

sukuna bursts into laughter.

he informs you that the salt he had originally wanted from you was supposed to be for the steak he was cooking last night. who knew that he'd be having a different kind of steak that evening? you look unamused as he makes the joke between chuckles.

unsurprisingly, you do end up in the shower with him, and again, unsurprisingly, he does pay extra attention to soaping up your tits in particular, and making out with you a little here and there. but as promised, you are rewarded with possibly the best meals you've ever had since you moved to this neighbourhood.

after a bit of conversation, turns out the man is a freelance chef, which is something you would've never guessed. from first glance, he seemed like he could've been part of some gang or a shady underground business.

when you sheepishly apologise for misjudging him based on his looks, sukuna laughs once again, and tells you that he'll forgive you if you let him continue to "help you out" from here onwards...

the rest is in dot points bc im lazy!

originally, i had wanted to make this a bit more toxic but i turned it more wholesome bc i felt like ive already posted toxic stuff before this so haha...

btw you do a few pregnancy checks while sukuna is still there after that night, and it turns out negative. it's a big sigh of relief for you and while it should be the case for sukuna too, since he's never really liked the idea of having kids, for some reason there's the tiniest twinge of disappointment...

anyway - after this, their relationship turns into a weird mix between friends with benefits and ?lovers, semi slow burn

often crashing in each others beds and sharing meals, but also having periods where you won't see one another for a week or so when life gets busy

thing is, you always try and tell yourself that you'll only use him to relieve the swell in your breasts, but it's never the case. things always go out of control and you end up bouncing on his cock without thinking of the consequences.

and he can't stop himself from teasing you everytime, those tits of yours could kill a man, he swears. sukuna gets extremely touchy with them, grazing his fingertips over your nipples, groping you with your shirt still on like a lewd old man, life just feels better when he has your tit in his mouth or hands. it hardly feels like he's actually bullying you when he gets hard like a mf while doing it.

and there are moments where he blurs the line between FWB and becoming something a little more, like when he scents you before you leave his place. "...why're you scenting me?" "why not?"

there is an incident that happens in your house one time, where a huge water leak had happened while you were away at work, drenching the floorboards and things requiring a lot of fixing. you had nowhere else to stay that wasn't either a motel or some cheap sauna so sukuna offered you to sleep at his place for the time being.

"but there's nowhere for you to sleep except for my bed. i'm not bothered to clean out any of the spare rooms and i don't suppose you want to sleep on the sofa for weeks straight?" a sly method of getting you to sleep next to him.

it really made things between you two feel a lot more intimate and romantic, a lot of tension, especially when sleeping together without the sex and doing all the chores. both of you felt a little empty when the house maintenance was all done and you had to go back to your own place.

also, this man is quite loaded with money. freelance chef popular in demand, but he only takes up jobs that he feels like doing. sometimes he'll leave his house empty for longer times because he's busy, which makes you quite lonely and confused, since he doesn't really explain to you where he's going and why a lot of the time.

when he eventually is back again, he is met with you, holding the scent of some other alpha. he finds himself feeling incredibly upset and possessive, even though he's always deemed relationships to be superficial in his life, because it limits his freedom. but he just feels so deeply unhappy about it that he ends up arguing with you

he knows it shouldn't be something he is entitled to feel angry about when he's not even properly committed to you but it's not like he's ever mingled with other omegas ever since he's met you? it just felt so unfair to him in the moment.

shortly after the argument, you end up confessing you didn't even do anything with the alpha anyway, just a boring date and one quick hug. and sukuna also explains that it was his fault in the first place, leaving and coming back without saying anything. turns out that he sometimes works as a chef in places like hotels and when he's preparing food for companies or people who live a distance away, he just spends the nights somewhere nearby for convenience.

the tension is high after both of you are finished clearing things up, and it eventually leads to sex again. he wants to get rid of that scent ASAP, whether it was from just a hug or not, he needs it GONE. and this time, he properly marks you, sinking his fangs into your scent glands like he's always ached to do.

the night ends with you two officially becoming a couple, finally haha, happy days

the end

Masterlist

[callmecoke]

sugar baby headcanons!

CW: Mention of sex work, This is sfw generally but still deals with adult topics so proceed with caution.

Tf141 x reader

What you’ve realised about your favourite mystery account is that A) it's run by multiple people, and B) At least one of them is called Price.

You can’t exactly pinpoint who the rest are or how many, but you’ve managed to identify a few common themes when interacting with the account.

First, you know who Price is, and you can almost always tell it's him when he’s interacting with you. He’s the one you go to first regarding bills and fees you physically can’t pay. Within seconds, he transfers you the money and never lets you thank him for any of it. He also does his weekly check-ins to make sure everything is good. “Have you eaten?” “How’d you sleep?” “Did you take your meds last night?” That kind of thing. He’s also the one who calls you ‘Dolly’, a nickname he reserved for you. 

But you're also pretty sure this other guy (Simon) lurks in the chat when you’re streaming. He won’t ask questions; he just sends you random tips throughout the stream while he watches silently. He’s not as talkative as Price or the others, and that’s kind of how you know it's him. But you’ve realised that just because he’s quiet doesn't mean he doesn't want to talk. It’s quite the opposite. He enjoys hearing you talk about your life and day and silently rewards you. When you DM him, you even get a little conversation. Nothing more than money and a “Nice”, but still conversation nonetheless.

You know one other fellow spends most of his time in the livestreams and not in your DMs (Gaz). He’s the one who engages with you in conversation the most, asking endless questions about your life. And he always comes back on the next live stream, remembering everything you said in the last. He’ll want the update on that project you were working on for school or if that job interview went as well as you both had hoped. If you weren’t Live to complete strangers, you’d probably open up to him about stuff you’ve never told anyone.

Now…One more person shows up now and again, mainly in your DMs. Part of the service for the website is that people can pay you to take a selfie and give it to them. They can be dirty or completely innocent; it all depends on what you’re advertising. There’s this one person who rather frequently asks for pictures of you, especially those with you smiling. You know it’s a different guy from the others you’ve spotted because he’s the only one who's outright flirtatious with you. Initially, you were wary. A man spending a lot of money on pictures of your face and upper body just screams trouble. But you grew to trust the account, so when you sent them the image, you were surprised by how quickly he showered you with praise.

“Fuckin’ hell, you’ll give a strong man a heart attack walking around that gorgous.”

“Makes me wonder how cute you look in person.” “I’m surprised no ones come along and snatched you up all ready. Can’t complain though. Means I get more of you to myself.”

You’d be lying if you said there wasn’t a slight blush on your cheeks after reading his responses.

[deliciousangelfestival]

You're The One - 4

Summary: A daughter uncovers the wild, untold story of how her parents’ marriage began—and it’s way better than any romance movie she’s ever watched.

Character: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Genre: Romance, Comedy

Words Count : 1,654

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , -

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Present Day

“Nu-uh.” Bucky glanced at his watch. “She’ll be here any minute, and I need to get to the airport.”

“I’m coming with you!” Jade yelled, already bolting to her room to change.

“Why the sudden interest in coming along?” Bucky called after her.

“Because you won’t tell me the rest of the story, so I’ll ask Mom instead!” she shouted back.

Bucky froze for a moment, muttering under his breath, 'Well, shit.' Then he called out, “Her version will be way more dramatic!”

Jade popped her head out of her room, gasping with excitement. “I have to hear it from her now! Let’s go!”

After a long drive, the two finally arrived at the airport. Standing near the arrival gate, Bucky shifted impatiently while Jade scanned the crowd.

Finally, you appeared, wheeling your suitcase behind you.

“Mom!” Jade ran toward you, wrapping you in a tight hug.

You blinked, startled but touched. “Jade? I didn’t expect you to come along with your dad!”

Speaking of which, Bucky huffed quietly, clearly annoyed that he missed the chance to hug you first. Instead, he settled for a side hug, leaning in and murmuring, “Welcome home,” before grabbing your suitcase.

You smiled warmly and kissed his cheek. “Thanks.”

“I thought you’d be staying another week,” he said as the three of you began walking to the car.

“I wasn’t feeling great, and being sick abroad just made me more homesick,” you explained. As a game development director, you’d been away overseeing the final stages of a new project. It had been a long trip, and you were glad to be back.

Bucky asked, his voice laced with concern, "Are you alright, dear? Have you checked with the hospital? I'll call our doctor."

You shook your head gently, a soft smile playing on your lips. "No, babe. I've got the results, and everything's alright."

Relief washed over Bucky and Jade's faces. Bucky let out a sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxing. Jade, on the other hand, beamed with joy, her eyes sparkling with happiness.

“Mom,” Jade whispered conspiratorially in your ear. “Dad told me he kidnapped you from Clark Jordan.”

Your eyes widened in shock. “He did?” You turned to glare at Bucky, who rolled his eyes dramatically.

“Let’s just go home,” he grumbled, ignoring your laughter and Jade’s giggles.

On the way back, Jade couldn’t hold in her curiosity. “Mom, what happened next after Clark hit Dad?”

You smirked knowingly. “Oh, he told you about that part, huh?”

“Yup,” Jade said eagerly, leaning forward in her seat.

You shook your head, chuckling as the memory came back. “Well...”

🔔💍🔔💍

Flashback

Clark arrived at the location in a rush, his wedding suit slightly disheveled, the jacket discarded in his haste. His tie hung loose around his neck, and his face was etched with determination. He’d come as soon as he could after getting the tip-off about your whereabouts.

Bursting onto the scene, he froze when he saw you and Bucky. The two of you were arguing—your words sharp, your tone frustrated—but there was something unspoken between you. A connection Clark could sense but had never felt with you himself. It wasn’t just Bucky’s audacity that made him furious; it was the realization that something deeper existed between the two of you, something he would never have.

Without thinking, Clark lunged at Bucky, his fist connecting with his jaw. Bucky staggered back but quickly caught himself, his own eyes blazing with fury. He grabbed Clark by the shirt, stopping the second punch, and delivered one of his own in return.

“Stop it!” you yelled, stepping between them.

Both men froze, fists mid-air, their heavy breathing filling the tense silence. They glared at each other, neither saying a word, the tension crackling between them.

You felt a pang of fear—not for your physical safety, but for what might happen to Bucky. Clark wasn’t just a powerful man; his family had the connections to ruin someone’s life with a single phone call. You couldn’t let that happen.

“We should go back,” you said softly, your voice trembling.

Bucky flinched, his arm dropping to his side. He stared at you, stunned. “What?”

Clark took the opportunity to grab your arm gently, his grip firm but not harsh. “Let’s go.”

As he led you away, you couldn’t help but glance back over your shoulder. Bucky was still standing there, watching you. His expression was unreadable, but you couldn’t help the small flicker of disappointment in your chest. You’d hoped, even for a second, that he would stop you, but he didn’t move.

---

In the car, Clark broke the silence first. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” His voice was calm, but his worry was clear.

“No, he didn’t do anything,” you reassured him.

He let out a long sigh, relief washing over his face. “Thank God.”

You hesitated before speaking again. “Clark… about the wedding.”

He cut you off gently. “It’s alright.”

You blinked in surprise. Clark had always been kind and patient, but this… this was different. He seemed far too calm for someone whose fiancée had just been kidnapped.

“You must have been terrified,” he continued, his gaze focused on the road. “Out of the blue, someone takes you away. My heart nearly stopped.”

“I’m fine,” you said softly. “He wouldn’t hurt me.”

Clark’s knuckles tightened on the steering wheel. “I’m getting a restraining order. He won’t come near you again.”

“It’s not that simple,” you said quickly, but he cut you off again.

“He kidnapped you, and you’re still not mad at him?” His voice was quiet but filled with hurt.

You flinched at his words.

“I knew you're a brave woman,” he said after a long pause. “I heard you went into a store with him. You could’ve screamed for help, but you didn’t.” He glanced at you briefly, his tone full of disbelief. “It seems like you were willing to go with him.”

Silence fell between you, the weight of his words pressing down.

Finally, Clark spoke again, his voice soft but resolute. “The wedding’s canceled.”

“What?” you whispered, taken aback.

“I realized something today,” he said, his tone calm yet firm. “You’re not the one for me.”

You stared at him, struggling to find the words.

“I saw the way you looked at him,” he continued. “The way you argued, the fire in your eyes. It’s something I’ve never had with you. He’s the one for you, not me.”

You couldn’t deny it. “I’m sorry,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I am too,” he said with a sad smile. “I thought maybe there was a chance for us. But it seems like you’re meant to be with someone else.”

“You’ll find someone who’s right for you,” you said softly, genuinely.

Before either of you could say more, a loud whirring sound filled the air. You both looked up to see a helicopter hovering above the car.

“What the hell?” Clark exclaimed as you saw the door open.

There, standing boldly with a megaphone in hand, was Bucky. “Stop! In the name of love!” he shouted.

“What the fuck!” you and Clark said in unison.

Clark pulled the car over as the helicopter landed in the middle of the road.

You turned to Bucky as he stepped out. “Seriously?”

Bucky shrugged, a grin tugging at his lips. “I had to make a grand entrance.” He extended his hand toward you.

You glanced at Clark apologetically. “I’m sorry.”

Clark nodded, his face pained but understanding. “Go. Before you make my heart bleed even more.”

You stepped out of the car, your heart pounding as you took Bucky’s hand. He helped you into the helicopter, securing your seatbelt and placing a headset over your ears.

As Bucky climbed in, Clark called out, his curiosity getting the better of him. “What exactly did you do? How did you even afford this?”

Bucky smirked. “I’m the owner of Bitcoin.”

Clark's jaw dropped. "You?!" He had invested some money in crypto and knew a bit about the Bitcoin story, particularly the anonymous creator's preference for secrecy. Could Bucky be the creator of this coin?

Bucky shrugged. “Yeah. I like to keep it low-key.”

Clark muttered to himself, still stunned. “Unbelievable.”

Bucky offered a hand in truce. “Hey, man. I’m sorry I ruined your day.”

“And I’ll hate you for it,” Clark said honestly, shaking his hand. “But at least everything’s clear now.”

Bucky nodded. “You’re a good guy. I hope you find someone who’s perfect for you.”

With that, he climbed into the helicopter and shut the door.

You turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “So, what now?”

“We finish your bucket list,” he said with a grin.

You sighed. “No, we don’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because someone will definitely stop us,” you said knowingly.

“Who?”

“My dad,” you said flatly.

Bucky’s face fell. “Oh, fuck.”

Present Day

“I feel bad for Clark,” Jade sniffled from the backseat, dabbing her eyes dramatically with a tissue.

Bucky groaned, gripping the steering wheel tighter. “Oh, come on. He’s fine. Stop acting like this is some soap opera.”

Jade ignored him, her phone in hand as she scrolled through a quick search. “Wait a minute—oh! Clark got married two years after you two. To his childhood friend! And they have… five kids?! Woah!”

Bucky raised an eyebrow but said nothing, keeping his focus on the road.

“At least he got his happy ending,” Jade murmured, her tone softening. Then her eyes sparkled with realization. “What about Grandpapa? How did Dad win him over?”

Your lips curved into a sly smile as you glanced at Bucky, who suddenly looked tense. “Let’s just say Clark was a beginner level, but your grandfather? He was the Grandmaster level boss.”

“Oh, great. I hate this part,” Bucky muttered under his breath, his face a mix of annoyance and dread.

Jade leaned forward, her curiosity piqued even more by her father’s reaction. “Tell me everything!” she pressed, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

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[emotionoitme]

i didn’t know

i didn't know - skinshape

final part of don’t call my name

warnings: some fighting at the beginning, but it’s mostly just one big love and fuckfest, mommy issues, slight mention of disordered eating, carmy is a PERV!! unprotected sex throughout but what else did you expect, shower sex (water off for SAFETY), teasing, play fighting (like shoving), brat/brat tamer themes, f receiving oral, fingering, major voyeurism (while otp with richie because i have a crush on him), spanking (and mention of skin being red), slight dacryphilia, sexy pictures, face fucking (m receiving oral), he spits in her mouth, kind of rough handling (thank u dom carmy), but it’s sweet and sappy too, breeding kink oop, bittersweet ending, pls let me know if i missed any warnings my brain is fried from looking at this for so long.

wc: 21k - but tumblr has a 1k "block limit" so this chapter is broken into two posts

a/n: sorry that took me so long i took a grippy sock vacation lol. wow i am so excited for all of you to read this. and the only way i can apologize is with 21k words of the nastiest smut i’ve ever written. LET THERE BE LIGHT!!! (part two of this chapter will be linked at the bottom! no more waiting i promise!!)

playlist

knock knock 

he calls her name. 

she rolls her eyes, brushing out the tangles in her hair. “i need to talk to you.” his voice comes sternly.

she cracks the door, continuing to detangle. the plan was to ignore him, yet she can’t help but seethe at the fact that she had to deal with claire again.

“go talk to your girlfriend” her retort comes sharply.

“can you not start this shit?” his face scrunches.

“i’m not starting anything,” she defends, “you’re the one who keeps inviting that girl over here.” 

“she forgot her scarf,” he states, “she just came to pick it up. that’s it.”

the girl scoffs. 

“i’m sure she wanted a lot more than her scarf from you, carm.” 

“you-,” he rubs his forehead, sighing, “i told her that we’re together, okay?” his eyebrow twitches from the argument.

“you only told her that because she saw me in your shirt,” the girl argues stubbornly, “if i didn’t walk behind you, you wouldn’t have said anything.” she turns the shower on.

“yes i would have,” he contests, “and even if she didn’t see you, i’ve got these fuckin’ things all over my neck,” pointing to the dark purple hickeys that lay on his skin, “thanks for those, by the way. gotta go into work tomorrow like this.” 

she bites her lip to hide a smirk. 

he catches it and raises his eyebrows in response. 

“payback.”

“what?” he stutters, shaking his head. 

“those are nothing compared to what you gave me.”  

he scoffs and crosses his arms. tries to push away how roused he becomes when they bicker like this. 

“i didn’t hear any complaints while i was giving you them,” he counters. 

she rolls her eyes.

“can you get out? i need to shower.” 

“m’not done talking to you,” his eyes lock on her face. 

she puts her hand on her hip and scoffs, staring at him for a moment, studying his features. cursing how her body tingled from the argument. deliberating. 

“fine,” she concedes, threading her fingers under the hem of the borrowed shirt, lifting it up over her head to reveal her nudity. if he won’t leave, she’ll just shower anyways. 

carmen fights a groan at the sight, instead forcefully exhaling through his nose. 

she was right, the marks on his neck were nothing compared to the bruises littering her skin, trailing from her neck all the way down to her chest, ranging from red to purple to brown.

the girl turns to open the glass door of the shower, stepping in, watching as the man shamelessly admires her figure. she goes about her business as if he’s not there, submerging her head under the stream of water, carding her fingers through her hair to scrub her scalp. 

he’s not done talking to her, yet he can’t seem to remember what he even wanted to say, transfixed by her nude, wet body just feet away. she begins to hum a tune and lather up her hair with shampoo. 

carmen approaches the glass. 

“hey,” he tries with a knock, eyebrow twitching. something else twitching, too. 

she glances at him, suds dripping down the side of her face, sliding down her breasts. she smirks knowingly at the sight of his flustered face, pushing her chest out slightly before drenching her face underneath the water again. 

he knocks on the glass door again, jaw tightly clenched. she rubs the water out of her eye and turns to him, cracking the door of the shower open. 

“hm?” she questions, gazing up at him. 

“we gonna finish talking?” he asks. he looks angry, but she knows better. the way his chest puffs out. the way his jaw clenches in that certain way. he looks hungry, and she’s tempted to keep pushing.

“i can’t. i’m in the shower,” she bites down on her lip to refrain from smirking. 

“why-” a sigh, running his fingers through his hair, “why you being such a brat today, huh?” he strains, giving great effort to keep his gaze from trailing down. 

“because i want you to myself,” she bites, “i’m tired of sharing with claire.”

“will you knock that shit off? y’not sharing me with anyone.” 

“uh, i beg to differ,” her eyebrows scrunch, “you’ve been fucking around with her since i moved in.” 

“fucking around?” he scoffs, “she was getting her scarf.”

“there was the other time, too, carm,” she reminds him. 

“that’s because-” he lets out a sigh of exasperation, hand carding through his hair. “listen. she’s the last person i wanna be with. we just…weren't good together.”

“why not?” she presses 

“there just wasn’t…i dunno, sparks? it was like dating a friend.” 

“okay.” she’s still mad, but she likes the words that come from his mouth. because if she has one thing with carmen, it’s definitely sparks. 

“yeah?” he tries, leaning to see her face, “you know i’m yours, right?” 

“yeah. whatever.” she doesn’t want to concede, too fired up about claire coming back over. “you should’ve told me.”

“i knew it’d make you mad,” he defends. 

“not as mad as it makes me thinking that you invited her,” she scoffs, “fucking hate seeing that girl bat her eyelashes at you.” she lathers shampoo between her hands and begins to wash her hair. 

“yeah?” he raises his eyebrows, “feeling jealous?” 

“shut up.” she can sense the stupid smirk on his face. 

carmy’s concentration breaks, and his gaze flits down to her sudsy chest. fuck. he clears his throat before speaking. 

“didn’t know girls like you could get jealous.”

“girls like m-what? what is that supposed to mean?” she cracks an eye open. 

“means you’re too fuckin’ pretty to worry about that shit. so just lose the attitude.”

his answer catches her off guard. the pulsing between her legs catches her off guard too. so she just turns away from him, scrubbing her scalp with her soapy fingers and shutting her eyes tightly. 

he chides her name and pushes the glass door open further. 

she ignores him, soaking her hair under the stream of water, muffling his voice. her eyebrow twitches. 

carmy steps partially in and turns off the water, getting his shirt wet in the process. the girl’s eyes shoot open and she whips around to face him.

“what the fuck, carmy?!” 

“i need you to fuckin’ hear me.” his comes louder than he anticipated. “i don’t. want. claire.” 

she doesn’t even care anymore. his lips look so inviting, she thinks. his white shirt clings to his chest in the spot that got wet. 

she just looks at him for a moment. studies his frenetic expression. looks at his lips again. 

“are you gonna keep fucking fighting with me or are you gonna take that wet shirt off?” 

it takes him a half second of firm deliberation before he’s yanking his shirt over his head and pushing his sweatpants off. she grins as he roughly grabs her face and slams his lips against hers. 

he kisses her with a hungry frenzy, like he has something to prove.  

and they apologize to each other with their bodies yet again, as carmen lifts her against the cold tile and fucks her, coaxing and kissing and thrusting an orgasm out of her. 

he fucks her until it feels like all the hurting is gone. until she gets lovey and desperate for him. until he gets so worked up he groans promises about finding her in california and giving her a ring. 

by the time they finish, the water is cold and the girl begins to shiver. so the two quickly finish washing up and carmy wraps her in a towel. 

he retrieves one of his sweatshirts for her to wear, smoothing his hands over her arms to help warm her up. 

without many words exchanged, they decide to cuddle up on the couch and watch a movie together. she lays her head on his lap and he cards his fingers through her hair absentmindedly. exchanging tenderness to help mend the argument. forgetting feelings of jealousy and shortcoming and guilt. 

they cozy up in carmen’s bed that night, taking a moment before falling asleep to just lay staring at each other. joking softly, touching each other sweetly.

he asks her about california, and watches with fascination as she lights up telling him about the beach she grew up next to. tells him about how when things would get bad at home she would sneak out her window and spend hours swimming in the salty water. letting the waves lap at her skin. letting the sun kiss her better. how it seems so dangerous looking back at it, but as kid nothing ever seemed that dangerous. it felt like nothing could hurt you. 

carmy enthusiastically agrees with her. follows her memory with his own anecdote of when donna took him, mikey, and nat to lake michigan and little carmy got separated from everyone. how he would have otherwise panicked and ran around and made the situation worse, but it was such a beautiful evening. so he decided to just sit on a rock and watch the waves roll in. 

a big smile grows on the girl's face as he recounts the moment when his mom found him. how she threw her arms around him and cried. how he was too young to understand why she was so scared when it was such a lovely evening. 

she wraps her arms around his shoulders and their chests press flush together. she kisses his neck, and they stay quiet for a moment. 

“i wish i didn’t have to go back,” she whispers her admission.

“me too.” he keeps playing with her hair.

it’s quiet for a moment. there’s a heaviness that fills the room. 

“how long you gonna have to end up staying?” carmy asks softly, leaning away from her to study her eyes. her face. trying to memorize every detail. he doesn’t miss the way her expression falters at his question. 

the girl doesn’t answer, and her eyes become glossy. 

“shit,” he breathes. her eyes dart to his. “you’re not coming back, are you?” 

“my whole family is there,” she whispers, “my friends. there’s nothing for me here.” 

“really?” he scoffs, “nothing at all?” 

“don’t start, carm.”

“y’know i fuckin’ love you,” he harshly whispers. she flinches slightly at the word. it feels so much heavier without the haze of lust. 

“all we ever do is fuck and fight.” 

“that’s not true,” he argues. 

“it is.” 

the man lets out a sigh of frustration, studying her eyes. her face. her lips. 

“it just…it feels right with you,” his tone softens. 

she doesn’t say anything for a moment, and fantasizes about leaving everything behind and building something in chicago, no matter how much she had grown to hate the weather. she fantasizes about the man in front of her. how she wants to build a life with him. how makes her feel like no other man ever has.

it’s hard to verbalize as her mind racks back and forth, so instead she just leans forward and kisses him softly, fingers threading through the hair at the nape of his neck. 

carmy reciprocates hesitantly, mind racing with the things he wants to tell her. how he doesn’t care about the distance. how he’ll call her every night. how he’ll keep her room vacant incase she wants to come back. he softly groans into the kiss when she slips her tongue into his mouth, feeling her press her chest flush against his. it feels so good, but he knows it’s wrong to keep pushing the hard conversations away with more sex. 

the girl finds his hand and softly guides it under the hem of her shirt. carmen lets her, fingertips finding the softness of her skin. but when she tries to pull his hand up to her breast, he stops the attempt, fingers firmly pressing against her ribs. 

the girl whines against his lips, moving closer. 

carmy indulges in the taste of her for only a moment more before pulling back and saying her name. she ignores him, chasing his lips, hand moving to grasp his strong bicep. 

“hey,” he turns his head and her kisses land messily along his jaw, “c’mon.” 

she ignores him, knowing he’ll want to keep talking about california, pressing herself closer, wanting to indulge in the feeling of him without thinking about the end. 

he calls her name again, voice coming out strained. she can feel his erection pressing against her, and keeps peppering kisses along his jaw and face. 

“just make me feel good,” she begs against his skin, “please.”

carmen feels himself throb against her, wanting nothing more than to give in. knowing it won’t fix anything. knowing it’ll only complicate things more. 

“thought you said all we do is fuck and fight?” his fingers grip into her, jaw tightening, feeling his resolve begin to crumble beneath her lips. 

“mhm,” she breathes into his skin, “so fuck me again,” trailing her hand down his bare abdomen.

he grips her wrist before she can move any further down. her eyes come up to meet his, taking in the stern look on his face. 

“i know you wanna,” she breathes, a small smile tugging at the edge of her lips, “can feel you throbbing against me.” 

carmen harshly exhales, trying to keep his mind focused. she’s completely right, he thinks, he’s stiff as wood. but he has to stay strong, prove to himself he has control around her.  

“stop fucking around. i wanna talk to you.” his voice comes more sharply than he means. 

the girl stiffens at his tone, pulling away to sit up and retreat. he doesn’t release her wrist. 

“let me go,” she tells him. 

“no. we’re gonna fuckin’ finish this,” his eyebrows furrow, “i didn’t even know you weren’t coming back until now.”

“i don’t wanna talk about it anymore.” her throat feels tight. 

“no? just want me to make you feel better? that all this is to you?” he can’t help the harshness of his tone. 

“carm, i-”

“y’know i’ve never fuckin’ felt this way about anyone? never said ‘i love you’ to anyone but you?” his nose scrunches, eyes appearing glossy. 

“we’ve only known each other for a few weeks.” her tone comes hushed as her chest painfully tightens. 

“yeah, well, i know you enough to know that this is real. that i don’t even-” a sigh, “ i don’t want anybody else but you.” 

“everything you’re saying is just gonna make it harder when i leave.” her voice breaks. 

his furrowed brows soften at the sound, releasing her wrist. she says seated on the bed, trying to take deep breaths and stave off the hot tears that threaten to form. 

“fuck, i-” he pauses, harshly rubs his hand over his face, taking a moment before meeting her eyes again and saying her name. “i like you. a lot.” 

“i know. i like you too, carm.” she rubs the tears away harshly.

“so why can’t we just…enjoy it? while you’re still here? go all out on this?” 

she stares at him blankly for a second as a cue to elaborate. 

the man exhales and shakes his head, trying to piece together what to say. he can’t seem to find the words. she thankfully cuts in. 

“go all out on this?” she asks.

he nods. 

“like, you wanna be my fuckin’…. boyfriend?” 

carmen can’t help the small smile that flashes across his face at the title. he tries to turn his head to hide it but she catches it, playfully shoving his arm. his smile turns to a chuckle. 

“shut up,” she grins, wiping the last stray tear away, “you so wanna be my boyfriend.”

he bring his arms to rest behind his head, staring up at the girl with a lazy smile. he studies her smile. her pretty face. they way in which she’s leaned in closer. 

“fuck yeah, i do. you kidding me?” 

her eyebrows raise at how assertively he says it. her head falls back, and she begins to laugh. partially out of joy and partially out of disbelief. the sound is hearty and sweet, and carmy finds himself wishing he’d make her laugh more. 

the girl leans over him, smile still gracing her face, and she plants a tender kiss against his lips. 

carmen gazes dreamily at her as she sits back up and tucks her hair behind her ears. her face is flushed, and she’s wearing an expression he can’t quite read. they keep staring at each other silently. 

“this is gonna be a bad idea, huh?” she asks after a moment. 

“why?” 

“why wouldn’t it be?” her eyes take in his handsome face. she thinks about how hard it’s gonna be to leave. 

“well…i like you,” he clears his throat, “a lot. actually i’m kind of fuckin’ crazy about you.” 

her gaze softens at this. he continues. 

“and i’m very attracted to you. and we, uh… we have great sex…”

“yeah, we do,” she concedes, “these are all good points.”

“so then, you’re my girlfriend.” 

“carmy…” she sighs, pausing. thinking of what to say. “i don’t like it here. i’ve felt homesick for the past year. i’m really not coming back.” her voice is quiet.

“yeah.” he nods, clearing his throat, “i know you’re not.” he knows, but it’s still hard to be reminded of. 

“so, you’re gonna be okay with that?” 

“i mean…i’m not okay with it, but i’ll deal with it if it means we get to spend these next few weeks together.”

she thinks for a moment, studying his genuine expression.

“okay…but if we do this, we have to promise each other that we’re not gonna get too attached. i really don’t want this to be messy. i like you too much.”

“it won’t be,” he assures, although it feels more like a prayer than a fact. 

“okay,” she whispers, “then you’re my boyfriend i guess.”

his eyes light up a bit at this, and a boyish grin breaks his face.  

“nice.” 

“you’re stupid.” she laughs at his response, lightly shoving his chest again. 

he reaches up and shoves her shoulder back playfully. 

“you are.” 

she scoffs and goes to shove him again, harder this time. he catches her wrist and pulls her forward so she can’t. the girl lets out a yelp of surprise, splaying out over him, face inches from his. 

the simple display of dominance makes her feel dizzy, placing her free hand on his firm chest to center herself. 

“why you like fighting so much, hm?” he asks, his breath ghosting over her lips, “you’re always testing.” 

she tries to pull her wrist away, but his grip is firm. 

“cause you’re…sexy when you’re mad,” she admits, eyes drooping to his lips. 

“i’m sexy when i’m mad?” he has a slight mocking tone. 

“mhm.” she can’t keep her eyes off his lips. “if i worked at your restaurant, i’d probably mess shit up on purpose just so you’d yell at me.”

“jesus,” he lets out a laugh, rubbing his free hand over his face, “what, you like when i get a little rough you?”

“n-no,” she blurts out. the way she averts her eyes immediately reveals her lie.

“yeah, i think you do,” he grins. 

she goes to defend herself again, but shuts her mouth when she can’t think of anything to say. it is kind of true, anyways.

“shut up,” she pushes his face away from her gently, “or else i’ll break up with you.”

this makes him fully laugh. it’s a really nice sound. she watches the way his face crinkles with the big smile. when his laugh fades, he reaches for her chin and pulls her into a gentle kiss. she sighs into the feeling, settling her body closer to his. 

“m’tired,” she mutters into his lips, “you exhaust me.”

carmy rolls his eyes at this. “c’mere.” he says, pulling the sheets back for her. 

the girl slips in next to him and presses her back against his chest, resting her head on his bicep. 

carmy reaches behind him to turn off the lamp, then wraps his arm securely around her. he plants a kiss on her neck and nuzzles his nose into her hair. 

boyfriend. 

he could get used to the title. 

-

carmen gets home late from work on a cold night, late into november, crashing down onto the couch and basking in the silence of the apartment. 

it was a long day in the kitchen, followed by meeting with a contracting crew to update some structural components after hours. 

he had finally taken off after being there for almost 12 hours straight, begrudgingly leaving the renovations to be overseen by richie after having snapped at the crew for the third time. 

he hears soft footsteps padding down the hall, and opens his eyes to see his girlfriend. his sweet, perfect, sexy fucking girlfriend. and it’s like a breath of fresh air, especially after not having seen her the past few days. and she’s wearing a tiny pair of shorts with a crop top that barely covers the curve of her breasts. 

it’s like a reward, he thinks to himself, for all the bullshit he put up with today at the restaurant. 

“welcome home,” she greets, walking past the couch and into the kitchen. 

“hey,” he returns, eyes following her, gaze raking down her backside as she gets herself a glass of water. 

“how was work?” she’s oblivious to the way he’s hungrily looking at her, oblivious to how pent up he feels. 

“long,” he responds, eyes trailing up the length of her legs. 

she lets out a hum of acknowledgement, turning to face him and taking a long sip of water. she catches him watching her intently, his arm stretched out over the back of the couch and neck craned. 

“enjoying the view?” comes her tease.

“y’look good,” he defends. 

“yeah?” 

“mhm.” 

the girl sets her glass down and begins to saunter to the couch. carmen’s eyes follow her closely. 

“how good?” she stops in front of him. 

“good enough to eat.” a small smile twitches the edge of his lip. 

“yeah? wanna taste?” her hands come to her hips, and she pushes her chest out slightly. 

fuck. he shamelessly looks her up and down. this was getting to be dangerous territory. 

“do you wanna go to out to dinner this week?” he changes course, watching her brain stutter for a second. 

“wh-dinner?” 

he nods, resting his head against his hand. she pauses for a moment, studying his face. 

“where?” 

“wherever you want.”

“like…a date?” 

“mhm,” a smirk tugs at the edge of his lips, “cause you’re, uh…my girlfriend now.” 

a grin breaks her face. she thinks for a moment. 

“can we go to your restaurant?” 

“uh…yeah, i guess we can.”

“you guess?” she asks. 

“yeah, we can go. but you’re probably gonna get a lot of, uh…attention.” he admits hesitantly. 

“from who? your staff?” 

he nods. they would probably lose their shit seeing him bring in a girl to eat dinner with. not to mention a girl that looks like her. 

“okay,” she nods, “i’ll dress cute. you can help me pick.”

“yeah?” he likes the sound of that. 

“mhm. whatever you want.” 

carmen rubs his hand over his face then locks his eyes on her again. this girl is going to be the death of him. 

“c’mere,” he beckons.

the girl gently steps forward, standing in between his spread legs. his hand comes to the back of her thigh as he sits forward, gazing up at her with those big blue eyes. he looks so handsome, and she can’t help but place her hands on his face and lean in to kiss him. 

it’s gentle and sweet, and it only makes him want more, tightening his grip on her leg as she pulls away. 

“you taste minty,” she says softly, still leaning over him, stroking her thumb across his face. 

“you sure?” he’s fixated on her lips, “might wanna check again.” he definitely is minty from the nicorette gum he’d been chewing. but it’s worth a shot.

this makes her smile. and she does check again. decides it’s spearmint she tastes. 

before she can pull back, carmy pulls her forward to straddle him. she makes a sound of surprise, but leans into it, wrapping her arms around his neck and continuing to kiss him.

“missed you today,” he slips in between kisses.

“liar,” she smiles against his lips. 

his hands come to her hips, pulling her against him. 

“nah, it’s true,” another kiss, “couldn’t stop fuckin’ thinking about you.” 

“prove it.” she grinds against his bulge, making him tighten his grip. 

“lay down,” he growls, pulling away. there’s a dark gleam in his eyes. 

“or else what?” she challenges 

he grabs both sides of her thighs and stands up with her still straddling his waist, turning and dropping her back onto the couch. 

okay, he’s not in the mood for arguing anymore. good to know. 

carmen cages her with his arms and kisses her deeply before trailing his lips down her jaw, neck, collarbones, only being stopped by the neckline of her shirt. he glances up at her, and she eagerly takes it off. he smiles at the silent act of obedience and continues kissing down her body, barely giving any attention to her breasts before his lips come to her stomach. the girl huffs at this, and he pretends to not notice. 

“what are you doing?” she strains, watching as his lips come to rest just above the waistband of her shorts. 

“m’getting my taste,” he replies casually 

“carmy,” she chides, face becoming red and hot. 

“what?” his fingers hook her waistband, “you embarrassed or something?” another kiss on her hipbone. 

she is, inexplicably. and vulnerable and exposed and horny all at the same time. she hides her face in her arms instead of responding, feeling him slide the shorts down her legs, left clad only in a thin pair of panties. 

carmy hooks his arms around her legs and pulls her closer to his mouth, pressing slow, firm kisses to her covered mound.

the girl lets out a labored breath at the heat of his lips against her clit as he begins to place wet, open mouthed kisses on her covered pussy. her cotton underwear becomes damp with his tongue, and she arches into the feeling with a sharp breath in. 

carmy nuzzles the fabric and deeply inhales, letting out a low groan.

“ah- don’t do that!” the girl tries to clamp her legs shut out of embarrassment, but he holds them firmly in place and presses his face closer to her core, continuing to kiss and suck her through the fabric. 

“you smell good,” carmy defends. “and these are cute,” he snaps the band of her panties. 

she can hardly even process the statement before he starts sliding them down her thighs, bunching up the fabric and putting it in his pocket. 

“hey, you can’t have those,” she strains. 

there’s a delay in carmen’s response—too busy studying her soft pussy up close, lips gleaming with wetness, bundle of nerves twitching under his gaze. 

“i’ll, uh…make it up to you,” his eyes stay fixed on the glorious sight upon him. 

he leans in, flattens his tongue against her clit, and begins to gently lick. 

the girl gasps, and her hands fly down to grab his hair as she releases a whine of pleasure. 

the tantalizing licks to her clit are gentle. almost not enough. she tugs on his hair and tries to scoot forward, so he eases his tongue back. 

when his eyes flicker to her face. her skin is flushed, lip clamped between her teeth, and she’s looking at him hungrily. 

“y’so pretty,” he presses a kiss to her clit, “taste so fuckin’ good.” 

her head falls back and she breathes out sharply. it’s too much to keep making eye contact with him. the slow, teasing licks are the only thing she can concentrate on. 

“you gonna say thank you?” it’s more of a demand than a question, as he glides his finger over her entrance, collecting her syrupy wetness. 

“n-no,” she struggles, face hot and red. 

thank you, really? how embarrassing. 

his tongue flicks over her clit repeatedly, his finger dips inside of her opening ever so slightly. 

“no?” his lips close around her clit and he sucks, cherishing the sound of the first moan she allows to slip out. 

“mmm,” she whines in response, beginning to pant at the feeling of his mouth. 

“c’mon, be a good girl for me?” unlikely, but he asks anyways

“i am,” she argues, pulling his head towards her needy heat. he scoffs at this and continues to swirl his tongue around her clit.

“then say thank you.”

“carm, i’m not saying-ah thank you!” she cuts herself off with a moan as he sinks his finger inside of her. “y’welcome” he replies lowly, a smirk fighting to break his face. 

“shut up. i didn’t-mmh! …mean it like that.”

she sits up onto her forearms, watching him curl his digit upwards inside of her, trying to keep it together. 

“you’re so fuckin’ cute.” he growls, then dives forward to taste her again. his fingers curl rhythmically, tongue lightly swirling her sensitive clit, giving her barely enough stimulation to get by. 

“more,” she whines, bucking her hips up slightly. he gives her a disapproving glance, so she adds a “please”. 

“yeah?” he kisses her clit. 

she frantically nods her head, trying to scoot closer to the man, trying to buck her hips against his hand. 

carmen speeds up the pace of his fingers, sucking her clit into his mouth, free hand gripping onto her thigh. 

“yeah,” she moans, “fuck, you’re so good at that.”

he preens at the praise and swirls her clit with his tongue, beginning to lap at her pussy. when he adds a second finger she cries out his name.

the view above him in combination with how sweet she sounds leaves his cock pulsing beneath his denim. he reaches down with his free hand, undoing his belt buckle and unzipping his pants. he just needs a little something to keep him from fucking her into the couch. 

as he goes to wrap his fingers around his cock, he’s interrupted by the harsh buzz of his phone on the table.

the girl startles at this, and both of their eyes dart to the contact tag. 

fucking richie. 

he doesn’t stop the movement of his fingers, and leans back in to taste her again, ignoring the loud vibrations. he begins to softly stroke himself, groaning into her pussy. 

“do you need to-ah… to get that?

“no,” he replies sharply, “y’taste too fuckin’ good to stop.”

the girl whimpers at the sound of his voice. at how low and raspy and hungry it sounds. 

“let me taste,” her plead comes breathily. 

carmen nearly groans at her request, more than willing to happily oblige. he licks a long stripe up her pussy, collecting her slick on his tongue, then leans over for a kiss. the girl eagerly (and messily) accepts his lips, swirling her tongue around his own, tasting her juices. she tasted herself before off his fingers, but it’s so much better off his tongue. she moans appreciatively and holds the sides of his face, pulling him in for deeper, sloppier, wetter kisses. the vibration of the phone stops, and his fingers continue their pace, curling into her heat, beginning to produce a squelching sound from the slick of her arousal. 

“yes!” she cries into his lips, eyes nearly rolling back into her head. 

“so perfect, y’know that?” he punctuates his words with the thrust of his fingers, gently biting at the girl’s bottom lip. 

she’s only able to muster a moan in response, trailing her hand down her stomach to circle her neglected clit, babbling out a string of “yes yes yes yes.”

the phone vibrates harshly atop the edge of the table again, falling to the floor with a loud thud. 

“fuck!” carmen exclaims, ripping his hand out of his pants. he stops curling his fingers inside of her and leans down to angrily grab his phone. the girl lets out a cry of protest. 

“carmy m’so close, please,” she begs pathetically. grabbing at his arm. 

“be quiet,” he hushes her, scooting back down to his previous position between her legs, “can y’do that for me?” 

she nods eagerly, biting down on her lip. 

carmen answers the call with a harsh “what?” and rolls his eyes at the voice that blares through the other line. 

his fingers remain engulfed in her heat, and he begins to slowly curl them again. the girl lets out a sharp breath and he shoots her a warning look, mouthing a stern “quiet.”

he puts the call on speakerphone, then places it on her stomach, leaning down to softly lick her clit. the girls eyes widen in surprise. a loud voice begins to come through the phone. 

“-that he was going to do it anyways, but i said ‘no way, carmy would have a fuckin’ bitch fit if we didn’t ask!’ so don’t answer the phone all fuckin’ mad, it’s not my fault,” the voice at the other line loudly rambles. carmy lifts his mouth from her pussy to respond

“jesus, richie, just look at the fucking floor plan.” 

“you don’t think we tried that? the vents aren’t lining up with the floor pla- what is that sound?” 

carmy curls his fingers a bit faster, pressing his tongue flat against her clit instead of answering. the girl gasps, convinced her lip is going to start bleeding from how hard she’s biting down on it. 

his eyes flicker up to her, and she mouths a “what the fuck?” 

like an asshole, he just grins in response. 

“hello?? earth to asshole,” richie’s voice cuts in loudly, “what the fuck are you doing over there?” 

carmen pulls away from her pussy with wet lips. he looks pretty, she thinks, like he has lipgloss on or something. 

“m’eating dessert,” he responds truthfully. the girl’s faces grows incredibly hot. 

“you wh- dessert? what is it, is it good?”

“fuck, richie, you-” he sighs, “forget about the vents,” he begins to rub gentle circles around her clit, “just have them do the pipes and go home. and stop fucking calling me.” 

“you think i wanted to call you, you fuckin’ baby? it’s gonna be an extra $200 for them to come back tomorrow and…” he continues to ramble on. meanwhile the girl holds onto carmy’s shoulder, digging her nails in, trying to anchor herself. the feeling of his fingers plunging into her is incredible, and there’s an unexpected rush at the risk of being listened to. of being caught.

carmen laps at her pussy, then closes his lips around her clit and sucks gently. he keeps doing this rhythmically, curling his fingers up into her core, continually switching between gentle licks and slurping and sucking. it’s a particularly deep thrust of his fingers that make her release her lip from her teeth and cry out loudly.

“ah-!” 

carmy’s eyes dart upwards at the moan, watching as she claps a hand over her mouth in shock. 

“what the fuck was that?” richie’s voice sounds after a pause. 

carmen, without a care that they could be caught, continues eating the girl out, giving her a look that says “you are so getting it.”

“hello?? are you watching porn or something, you fuckin’ weirdo?”

he rolls his eyes at the accustation, why would he be watching porn while on the phone? 

“no, i’m not watching fucking porn, richie. finish the vents tomorrow, i’m not arguing about this anymore. goodnight.” he grows increasingly impatient, and it reflects in the quickened pace of his fingers. 

“wait, wait, one more thing-”

“fuck, what?!” carmen snaps. 

the girl lets out a sound of exasperation, coming up on a perpetual orgasm then being denied every time he removes his mouth. the pressure is growing to be unbearable, and she softly whines a “carmyy.”

“i know, baby, i got you,” he whispers back, barely loud enough for her to hear. he brings his mouth to suck on her clit again while richie continues yapping about the fucking vents. fuck the vents. 

carmy just watches the girl’s face, tuning out the voice from the phone. he studies how flushed she is—from her cheeks all the way down to her chest. how she seems like she’s barely holding on. how her legs begin to tremble. how she tries desperately to keep from making noise, pressing her lips together firmly, eyes screwed shut, breathing ragged. 

the wet, squelching sound from her pussy begins to sound again, juices flooding down his fingers, soaking his hand. it feels unbelievable and she begins to lose patience. 

“carm, hang up,” she cries, much louder than she means to. richie’s voice stops in its tracks. 

“are you f-what the hell are you doing?” he asks, “who is that?”  

“none of your fuckin’ buisness,” carmy snaps, “the central vent is the one that’s the most fucked up, so get it sealed and go the fuck home. and don’t fucking call me again.” 

“yeah, yeah, whatever. you have fun over there, assh-” carmy hangs up the phone and tosses it onto the floor. 

“what the fuck, carm?” she asks exasperatedly, face fully flushed. 

“you’re not very good at staying quiet.” 

“you were- ah!” she loses her sentence as he dips back down to swirl her clit with his tongue. 

“i was what?” he mutters into her wetness, slipping his free hand back into his pants. 

“you were doing that!” she cries, tangling her fingers in his curls.

“it feel good?” he laps at her cunt, rhythmically curling his fingers. 

“yeah,” she cries, “please don’t stop again. please.” 

a small smirk breaks on his face at how nicely she’s able to ask, even after being tormented with interruptions moments ago. he rewards her by continuing his steady pace, keeping everything constant, coaxing an orgasm out of her. 

he squeezes the head of his cock, stroking the length of it faster now. she tastes so good, and the sounds she’s making are so pretty, it’s easy to lose himself in the pleasure. 

she bucks her hips against his face, getting his nose wet. her grip on his hair tightens. her body feels hotter, hotter, hotter and-

“carm-!” she gasps, “fuck, baby, that’s so good. m’gonna cum. please keep doing that pleasepleasepleasebabyyesyesyes,” she babbles, grinding her hips against his face, practically riding his fingers which curl so deliciously inside of her. the man has to force himself to not stop and make a snarky comment about how cute she sounds when she’s all fucked out like this . 

with a final few curls of his fingers and another swirl of his tongue, she’s coming completely undone. her head falls back and she rides out the orgasm shakily. 

he bucks his hips into his hand with fervor, groaning into her pussy as he feels himself approaching an embarrassingly easy climax. 

she clenches around his fingers, and he wriggles them as deeply as he can, swirling her clit with his tongue. 

the girl lets out a cry, feeling herself be pushed far past her peak, hand flying down to grab his wrist. 

“ah-carm, s’too much.” 

“you can take it, yeah?” he growls, rutting into his hand. he’s so close. just needs to taste her for a little longer. there’s a hot pulse surging throughout his body. 

the girl’s breathing becomes loud, a rapid inhale exhale inhale exhale. 

at the labored sound, he takes some mercy on her and stops moving his fingers, focusing solely on lapping at her throbbing clit. his cock twitches in his hand, and with a few final frenzied pumps, he cums into his palm.

“fuck,” he groans, resting his head on her pelvis for a moment. the two of them bask in the post-orgasm high, catching their breaths. carmen’s jaw aches a bit. he plants one last kiss on her oversensitive clit, then pulls away, easing his fingers out slowly.

“kiss me,” she pleads breathily, feeling slightly dizzy from the orgasm. 

“yeah? wanna taste yourself again?” his voice is low, kind of raspy. 

she nods eagerly.

he leans over and, to her surprise, shoves his fingers in her mouth, swirling them around her tongue, making sure she gets every drop she left behind. the girl enthusiastically cleans his fingers, taking them deeply into her mouth. 

the moment he eases them out, he dives into her lips hungrily, shoving his tongue in her mouth, tasting the heavenly mix of her saliva and arousal. 

she grabs his face and licks her cum from the side of his lips, from his chin, gathering it before kissing him frantically again. 

“mm, thank you,” she mutters against his lips sweetly. 

“y’welcome.” he loves how she thanks him. 

the taste is intoxicating, and he’s tempted to lick her pussy again just so the both of them can continue to indulge. but there’s a sticky mess on his hand and the inside of his boxers, so he pulls away from her lips, and grabs a tissue from the box on the coffee table. 

the girl’s eyes widen in surprise as he eases his cum-covered hand out of his boxers.

“is that- did you..?”

he wipes the white substance off his hand, small small teasing the edge of his lips. 

“uh…yeah. that was, um… that was really hot,” he admits.  

“yeah, except the part where you put me on the phone with your employee.”

“nah…” he shakes his head, a smirk on his face, “i think you liked that.”

“wha-no i did not,” her eyes widen, “it was so embarrassing.” it was embarrassing, but it really turned her on—not that he needs to know that.  

“embarrassing?”

“yes, embarrassing! get that dumb grin off your face, it was!” 

this only makes him smile harder, beginning to laugh. 

“yeah? that why you soaked my fuckin’ fingers?” 

she sits up and reaches for her tank top, a bashful expression on her face. 

“no. that’s just because it felt good.” 

“you were squeezing me like crazy trying to stay quiet,” he continues to try and provoke her, liking how feisty she becomes. 

“give me my panties back.” the girl rolls her eyes and ignores his statement. 

“what panties?” he asks cluelessly. 

“carmy.”

“yeah, baby?” 

she scoffs and mutters a “whatever” before standing up and slipping on her shorts. pantiless. there’s a creeping blush on her face as she wonders what he even wants them for. 

“so, tomorrow?” he asks before she can walk away, “for our date?” 

she pauses, then nods. 

“but we’re not going to your restaurant.” 

“why not?” there’s a small smirk on his face. 

she gives him a look that says, because you just ate me out on the phone with the guy that would probably be serving us, dumbass, but stays quiet, beginning to walk to the stairs 

carmen lets out a chuckle, and stands to follow her after cleaning his hand off. he hooks the waistband of her shorts and pulls her back. hands coming to her hips to steady her, his chest flush against her back. 

“c’mon, don’t be like that,” he leans down to kiss her neck. she can feel his smirk against her skin, “you hungry? y’eat yet?” 

she shakes her head no, closing her eyes at the sensation of his kisses. 

“no you didn’t eat or no you’re not hungry?” he asks, nipping the skin below her earlobe. 

“both,” she exhales, leaning back against him, her hands coming overtop his. she suddenly notices how big they are splayed out over her hips.

“you haven’t eaten dinner yet?” he stops kissing her. 

“m’not hungry,” she breathes, “keep kissing me there.”

he removes his hands from her hips and steps back. she lets out a noise of disappointment and turns to face him with a pout. he doesn’t see this, though, already walking to the kitchen and turning on the light to make her something. 

“carmy,” she calls, following him, “it’s late. let’s just go to bed.”

he ignores her, opening their cabinets to retrieve a box of spaghetti. 

“hey,” she grabs his arm, leaning to meet his eyes, “come on. i wanna cuddle.” 

“we will. but i’m gonna make you dinner first.” his voice is firm. he pulls his arm away from her and reaches down to grab a pot. 

he’s so demanding. but the gesture makes her feel incredibly affectionate towards the man, so it’s hard to be mad at.

as he fills the pot with water, the girl snakes her arms around his waist and hugs him from behind, pressing herself flush against his back. 

“thank you,” she mumbles into his shirt, taking a deep breath of their shared laundry detergent. her hand sneaks under his shirt and she drags her fingers into the deep cut of his v line. 

carmen reaches his hand behind him, caressing her hip without saying anything in response. 

she pulls away after a moment and he puts the pot of water on to boil. 

“you eating enough?” 

his question catches her off guard. 

“i- what?” 

“you heard me.” he crosses his arms.

she stares at him for a moment, studying his tightly set jaw. the way it twitches a bit.

“yeah, i am.”  

“yeah?” he looks like he doesn’t believe her. 

and maybe she had been a bit forgetful lately, missing breakfast, oftentimes coming home too tired to make dinner and opting for a snack instead. she didn't think he had been so observant, though. 

“yes.” her tone is quiet. 

he just stares at the girl silently, striking blue eyes boring a hole into her. she crumbles under his gaze. 

“i’ve just been…stressed. i don’t know. haven’t had much of an appetite.”

“what are you stressed about?” 

“going back home i guess,” she admits quietly, shuffling on her feet. 

he doesn’t respond, giving her the opportunity to elaborate without pressure. 

“i just- it’s gonna be hard. y’know when i told you my mom and i have a complicated relationship?” 

he nods, and she continues. 

“yeah, that was like…understatement of the year.” 

he nods, a knowing look on his face. 

“yeah, no. i, uh…i know exactly what you mean.” he really does. 

“and um, she’s sick. like, not entirely there,” she points to her head, “so she gets really mean. but then she can also be the nicest, most motherly person. its just…really unpredictable.” 

it was almost uncanny, the way in which he pictures donna as she gives her description. 

“i, uh…yeah. i get it,” he clears his throat, “i’ve dealt with someone like that my whole life.” he intently locks eyes with her, wishing he could say more to alleviate her dread. 

“how did-how do you deal with it?” she asks quietly, after a moment. 

“i, uh…i don’t really?” he rubs his neck, letting out a sardonic chuckle, “i haven’t talked to her in…months probably.”

“really?” 

“yeah, i’ve, um…been kind of an asshole, actually. my sister is really the only one that deals with her.” 

“you’re not an asshole,” she locks eyes with him, “well, sometimes you are. but not cause of that. that’s more like a…i dunno, a defense response.”

he laughs at her bluntness. 

“so i am an asshole, just not for that?” 

“correct.”

“how am i an asshole?” 

“you’ve been trying to make me jealous since i got here.” 

“not trying. it actually worked very well.” he has a stupid smile on his face when he says that. 

“shut up!” she laughs, shoving her hands against his chest as hard as she can. he barely moves from it, grabbing both her wrists firmly with an amused look on his face. she struggles against his grip, trying to shake the feeling of arousal that comes with how easily he’s able to overpower her. 

“why’re you so fiesty, huh?” he grins, pulling her closer. 

“cause you’re a fucker, that’s why.” she tries again to pull her arms back, but to no avail. her face feels hot, and she becomes hyper aware of the fabric touching her skin, the hair on her neck, the tingle of the rough grip on her wrists. his face is much closer now, and she fights the urge to lean forward and indulge.

“yeah?” 

“mhm,” her response overlaps his. 

“what are you gonna do about it?” he mocks, “huh?”

her eyes flicker down his face. he has a stupid fucking smirk plastered on his lips. fuck, she wants to kiss him. 

an idea pops into her head. 

the girl leans forward, gently ghosting her lips over his own. her tongue darts out and she licks his bottom lip, then sucks it into her mouth and bites softly. then she gives him a soft and gentle barely there kiss. 

she feels his grasp on her wrist loosen, so she splays her hand over his chest. 

her lips hover over his for just a moment more, and then she shoves him. 

carmy stumbles back slightly, less prepared that time, hands coming behind him to steady himself on the counter. when he meets her eyes again he has a dark glint in his eyes. almost like anger, but hungrier.

the next thing she knows, he yanks her into his chest, grabs her hip and roughly bends her over the countertop. 

she just thinks to herself, finally. 

carmen tugs her hips back until her forearms fall to the counter and she arches her spine. until she’s flush with his pelvis and he’s pressing his achingly hard cock against her ass. 

“such a bratty fuckin’ girl,” his tone is rough, strained.  “you know that? fuckin’ had it with you.” 

“i’m n-” she cuts herself off with a gasp as he harshly tugs the waistband of her shorts up, wedging the fabric between her cheeks and giving himself a nice view of the supple skin.

“you’re what?” he smooths his hand over her ass, watching her arch into his touch. watching as she opens her mouth to say something, then close, staying silent and shuffling her hips against his groin. 

carmen lets out a groan—half frustration, half arousal, smoothing his hands over her hamstrings and firmly squeezing the soft flesh before trailing back up to her ass. 

“you doing this on purpose?” both hands grab her ass, kneading, pulling her closer against his hardness. 

no response. she can’t, not without moaning. 

“hmm?” he shoves his hips forward into her, “you trying to get a reaction outta me tonight? or are y’really just that fucking bratty?” the hand gripping her flesh squeezes harder. 

“i-mmh…that-…keep doing that.” she chooses to ignore his question. 

“answer me.”

still nothing. 

“you want me to spank you? cause that’s what’s gonna happen if you keep this shit up.”

his words make her stomach flip. of course she does. she hides her smile in her arms and stays quiet, pushing back into him. hoping he’ll stick to his words. 

carmen raises his hand, and cracks it down on her right cheek, grabbing the flesh immediately after to ease some of the sting. 

“ah-!” she grips the countertop, arching her spine. his hand leaves behind a hot, tingling sensation, flooding through her body like a wave. 

“y’okay?” he tries to sound caring but his tone comes out rough, heavy with arousal. 

“yeah.” better than okay. incredibly horny, actually.  “that hurt?” his hand smooths over the reddening skin. 

“no,” she shakes her head, pushing back against him again, “thought you were gonna spank me.”

she cranes her neck trying to get a look at the man. his pupils are blown, face is rosy, and when she meets his eyes there’s a dangerous glint to them. 

he wedges her shorts up higher, exposing more of her ass, then smacks her in the same spot without warning. harder this time. 

“fuck-!” she gasps sharply. it hurts, but in a way that has her pressing her thighs together desperately to try and get some relief. 

“can you take one more, pretty girl?” 

“yeah,” she whines enthusiastically, shuffling her hips back against his groin. 

“yeah? y’so tough, baby.” his voice has a slight mocking edge to it as he does everything in his power to not yank the shorts down her legs and fuck her into the counter. 

“just…shut up and do it.” she tries to mask her eagerness, but it doesn’t work very well. 

he scoffs, and rubs his large hand over her supple skin. when he feels her relax, he raises it and cracks down on her other cheek. 

she partially muffles the loud cry by biting down on her forearm, feeling a few tears begin to form in her eyes. 

“you have such a cute ass, y’know that?” he squeezes both of her cheeks in tandem, pulling them apart, pushing them together, “can already see the handprints forming.” his voice is low and rough.

“wh-really?” her brain feels fuzzy with desire as she tries to switch gears. 

“you wanna see?” 

she nods her head frantically, butterflies arising at the thought. 

carmen pulls his phone out of his back pocket and holds it over her, snapping a picture with a low groan. 

“look back at me,” he demands softly. 

she does, peering over her right shoulder to see him holding the camera facing her. the embarrassment makes her face feel hot, but she lets him take the picture anyway, looking into the lense with a small pout on her face. 

“so fucking pretty,” he growls, lowering the phone and clicking on the picture he took, admiring it for a moment before turning the phone so she could see. 

it was quite the picture—cherry red handprints over her round ass, shorts wedged up so far they look like underwear, the curves of her body accentuated by the angle. 

carmy swipes to the left and reveals the photo of her looking back at the camera, all flushed cheeks and pouty lips and misty eyes. she knows she should probably feel embarrassed, but seeing herself like that just makes the throbbing between her legs intensify. 

carmen turns off the phone and puts it back in his pocket. he leans over and grabs her face, studying her with furrowed brows before leaning down kissing her firmly. 

“you okay?” another kiss, “really?”

she nods, eagerly reciprocating the kiss, moaning a soft “mhm” against his lips.  

“didn’t hurt too bad?” his brows are furrowed, their movements beginning to quicken. she slips her tongue into his mouth and she begins to kiss him faster, losing herself in his lips. 

carmy reciprocates for a moment before muttering a gentle “hey,” pulling back a bit, “answer me.” his gaze flickers over the sheen on her cheeks, left behind from a few stray tears. 

her eyes flutter open, fighting the urge to not chase his lips. 

“it didn’t hurt,” she affirms hazily, “felt good. can you put it in? please?”

“jesus, christ” he groans, dipping back in for another kiss, “want me to fuck you? needy fuckin’ girl.”

she nods with a small, bashful smile and softly nips at his bottom lip, fighting the urge to bite harder. 

carmen straightens to his previous position behind her and slips his fingers beneath the hem of her bunched up shorts. he pulls them to the side to reveal her glistening pussy, letting out a sharp exhale at the sight. he’s about to reach out and touch her when she gasps.

“carm, the water.”

it angrily bubbles and pours down the sides of the pot, sizzling when it splashes onto the flames. 

“fuck,” he pulls away from her, quickly moving to turn off the burner. “stay right there.” 

and she would’ve, had another fucking phone not started ringing. 

the girl cries out his name frustratedly, just wanting him to come back over and fuck her brains out. 

“it’s not mine this time,” carmy defends, adjusting the tent of his pants. he’s so hard it’s almost painful, increasingly eager to get back behind her. 

she huffs and straightens, readjusting the uncomfortably wedged-up shorts as she follows the sound of the ringer. when she retrieves her phone from between the couch cushions, her heart drops at the contact name. 

mom.

in a single moment it’s like the air gets sucked from her lungs. her skin stops tingling with that warm heat, body stops buzzing with pleasure—all the good feelings flood from her suddenly. 

carmen wipes down the stove, drying the water that had boiled over before refilling the pot and turning the heat back on. his roommate talks in a hushed, urgent tone in the living room, and he tries to refrain from curiously moving closer and eavesdropping. curiosity almost gets the better of him, but a few more moments pass and he hears delicate footsteps approaching. 

he looks up, and catches the sight of her tear-streaked face. her big, sad eyes. a pit forms in his stomach. 

“everything okay?” he’s unable to hide the concern in his tone. 

she doesn’t say anything. she can’t. so she just rushes forward and crashes into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. 

“hey,” he soothes, tightly reciprocating the hug, “what happened?” he kisses the side of her head. 

it takes her a minute before she’s able to verbalize, just wanting to nuzzle herself as far into his chest as she can, wishing she could just disappear into him completely. 

he says her name, pulling away slightly to get a look at her sweet, sad face. “what’s goin’ on, huh?” 

“i’m going back next week,” it’s hard to make eye contact with him, so she looks to the side with blurry vision. 

“what?” it’s like a punch in the stomach. 

“i-…my mom,” she sighs exasperatedly, “she’s just getting worse,” at this point the tears stream down her cheeks. 

he cups her face with both hands, wiping them away with his thumbs. he just stares at her, not knowing exactly what to say to make this shitty situation better. 

“i’m-….fuck, i’m sorry.” he puts his forehead on hers, “m’so so sorry.” he doesn’t know exactly what he’s apologizing for—the state of her mother or the dread of her sudden departure. either way, there’s this overwhelming feeling of loss trying to wrap his head around how soon next week really is. 

“m’gonna go to bed,” she mutters, tightly closing her eyes to stop the flow of tears, nose brushing against his. 

“you don’t wanna eat with me?” 

she gives a small shake of her head, having lost her appetite at the news. 

carmy wants to push it. but she just looks so tired and sad, he figures it’s better not to. his hand comes to the back of her neck, and he pulls her into a bear hug, kissing the side of her head. 

“go wait in my bed for me,” another kiss, “i’ll be up in a bit.”

“i need a shower,” she mutters into his neck, “you made me all…sticky.”

he can’t help but let out a humorous exhale, finding a small bit of relief from her words. 

“yeah? sorry about that.” he has a soft, barely there smile on his face. 

“you know i love you, carmy?” 

her quiet confession stops his train of thought. stops the noise of it all. it kind of feels like it even stops his heart, just for a second.

it was something she hadn’t yet said to him without the hazy high of lust. something she had been waiting on until it felt real. 

carmen eases away from the tight hug, getting a good look at her face. she’s entirely genuine, brows furrowed and eyes glossy, searching his expression for reassurance. he dips forward and kisses her softly, hand caressing her cheek. 

“i know,” his thumb traces along her jaw, “i love you too.”

she turns her head to the side and kisses his hand.

“you gonna come to california with me?” she softly bites his thumb. 

“yeah, baby.” he nods. it’s a lie, and they both know that. 

sometimes it’s easier to fantasize about what could be than accept what never will. 

-

it’s far too late into the night by the time carmen has eaten and showered. he blearily trudges down the hall and pushes his door open. and like a breath of fresh air, there she was. cuddled up in his blankets, face buried in his pillow. it feels incredibly domestic, and he finds himself wishing he could come home to this every night of his life. 

carmen eases into bed slowly as to not wake her, shuffling his body against hers. then he just watches her for a bit. 

he watches her chest rise and fall. watches the way her lips slightly part with her heavy breaths. she looks so peaceful unconscious, like there isn’t a worry in the world. 

he thinks about how selfishly he wants to keep that placating expression on her face. wants to keep her to himself. thinks about how selfishly he wishes she didn’t even have a family to return to—how fucked up is that?  it’s almost surreal, staring at her sleeping form, mourning her loss while she’s still in front of him. tangible and soft and beautiful and sleeping right there. 

carmen reaches out and strokes her cheek at the thought, then leans in to press a gentle kiss to her resting lips. it doesn’t make him feel better like he thought it would. 

he turns off the light and pulls her in close. 

-

pt 2 of i didn't know

[beuxwhoyouare]

Raised You Better

My son Jasper was a good kid. He was a star soccer player in school and got a scholarship to play in college, so I only saw him on holidays. I missed him so much and looked forward to our quarterly reunions.

Well that was until his most recent visit. He was being so distant and when I finally inquired why he was acting differently, he finally admitted he actually dropped out to pursue being a personal trainer.

I was shocked. He's always been a model child and did all me and my husband expected of him. Maybe it was all our time away working? Maybe I should've been home more instead of being at the lab. It felt like a punch in the gut. I mean sure he knew what he was doing thanks to all his time training for soccer but that's not a way to build a life?

My husband and I did it right. We met in college and supported each other through our advanced degrees and worked our way up in an international pharmaceutical company. Personal training is just so...surface level. He's supposed to be better than us. That's what you want for your children. No no no this is no good. I'll have to set him on the right path.

I knew of a special program at work that was rooted in natural medicine and meditation with a mad science twist. I set up Jasper with the "Sports Nutrition" department at work but it was actually our new experiment. It looked like a TENS muscle stimulator on crack. Several wires shot out of a relatively large dark grey box with a screen and several sliders on one side. I sat connected on the other side of the wall connected with the pads all over the top of my head. All I had to do was wait for Jasper to get hooked up. We sold it to him as a scientific way to curb cravings for sweets and unhealthy things, like an ozempic shot for the brain. In reality, I was told that the machine would take positive attributes from one source and strengthen them in the weaker mind.

I saw the lights flicker and anticipated that he had already been hooked up to the machine. I just laid back and rested while focusing on the importance of getting a quality education. Eventually, I must have dozed off because when I opened my eyes again it was all so groggy. But I was sitting facing the opposite direction. I lifted my arms to wipe my eyes and gasped when I looked down. My boobs were gone and replaced with sizable mounds of muscle escaping a tiny white tank top. My arms and thick thighs now filled with tattoos....no?! This isn't supposed to be how it works

I told the lab techs who I am and that I was actually Meredith. They both looked at each other spooked but judiciously jotting down notes. After answering a few security questions, they agreed to believe that I was indeed not Jasper and it must be an unforseen side effect from the treatment.

That's when they explained the problem....When my body woke up, it also said it was Meredith. Could the experiment have basically overwritten the memory of my son with my own? I felt like I basically killed my own child. Grief swept over me. But then so did a bravado, a confidence, a giddiness? The two lab techs handed me a towel as they shyly avoided looking down at a tent forming in my shorts. Oh I guess the excitement led to a physical response.

In theory I get it as a scientist. I did in fact instill positive traits on my son. Granted, that also erased him seemingly. But also it's a chance at a new life full of new experiences. I'm a man now. And what a man indeed. I walked into the shower facility at the lab. I took off the outfit Jasper donned to the lab, if I was still a woman it'd be called skimpy and slutty. Tiny shorts with underwear built in and a virtually see through tank top. In two swift moves, I had taken everything off. I had seen my son naked as a child but this is different. He looked so much like his father....well I guess I looked so much like MY dad now. His genetics graced me well as I placed one hand on my pecs and another on my new dick. I squeezed both recoiling from the newfound pleasure. This was wrong right? Like I shouldn't be doing this....I felt disgusted with myself. No. This is for the betterment of Jasper's life. I'm going to let go of my past life....I'm Jasper now.

And what a life it will be. Years of playing sport and training, whew. I wasn't going to let him throw it away, I'll let it be a side job, maybe I'll own a business with a bunch of trainers under me but I won't be hustling like that. Not yet. I gotta learn the new me. I used my hands to trace the curves of each new tattoo, then moved on to each muscle. I poked and prodded before squeezing, then I remembered I had business to attend to. I took one hand and gently took hold of the warm fleshy rod under the steamy water pulsing down onto me. I pumped back and forth for a few minutes. Jasper was not sensitive at all...I shoved aside my reservations and gripped myself firmer and began jerking harder and faster. Eventually I introduced my other hand....oh he was girthy in the best way. I mean I am thick in the best ways. Harder and faster, it felt like I was floating outside of myself as my muscles took over almost like autopilot.

The steam radiated off my new musculature when it felt like I saw a flash of light. Shot after shot came out of my new rod. The lab walls had likely never seen a show like this but I was happy to christen them. The autopilot kinky thoughts continued to take over my new mind and body. I squatted down an licked the nearest wall as my cum dripped down. I knew Jasper was queer but I didn't know how he would respond to this kind of kink. I think he was a little freak because there was not one single butterfly in my stomach from this action. I quickly toweled off and headed to my apartment. I figured "Meredith" could find her way home.

The apartment smelled like a young male in college. A musk twirled around sweat and strong cologne. Foreign to me, but familiar to my new body. I couldn't control myself and ripped my clothes off...literally. My strength made it obscenely easy to tear them off in ways they weren't intended to. I wanted to try on all my new clothes. This body made everything look good.

My phone buzzed. It was one of "my" bros asking if I was coming down to the shoot. I played it off like I forgot and asked him to send me the "deets" again.

I threw on the nearest random shirt and bottoms and made my way to the warehouse address given. I guess "I" had agreed to help with the photoshoot to launch "our" new clothing line. A nearby table had Jasper's name on it and I quickly assumed the position taking off all my clothes and putting the skimpy clothing on. I channeled my new swagger as my bros began taking pics.

Oh I think I'm gonna like this. Hopefully I can find a cute twink or something soon. I really wanna put these thighs to work plowing someone's son or two.

[not-a-lady-irl]

Glad you liked it

Pairing: Malleus Draconia x f!reader Summary: You were taking a cooking class with Trey to pass the time. At the end of class, you returned to your Diasomnia dorm with a beautiful strawberry pie, but you just didn't expect that the pie would spark the interest of a certain dragon. Warnings: fluff, terrible writing Author's Note: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes. Words: 2.1K

You were taking a cooking class with Trey, he was teaching you how to make one of his famous strawberry pies.

It was just a normal day, after your classes ended you left the Diasomnia dorm looking for something to do and as you walked around campus you smelled the wonderful smell of Trey's pies.

And that's how you ended up in the kitchen of Heartslabyul's dorm.

— Hey Hey! Even your pie turned out better than we expected — Trey confessed, as he took your pie that had just come out of the oven and examined it.

Even you were surprised

— Wow! I still can't believe it worked.

— Your pie is excellent — Trey takes the pie out of the pan and puts it on the table — At least now I know who to call if I get a large order of pies and need help. — He jokes

A smile forms on your face when you hear the compliments

— Thanks Trey, at least now I have something to take to my friends at Diasomnia, I'm sure they'll love eating one of your pies!

— I sincerely hope so — He replies while picking up some already cut strawberries and some whipped cream that was inside a pot — Now this beautiful pie just needs a decoration!

You observe the way Trey decorates his pie, the dexterity and care he has when forming small circles of whipped cream that add a sensation of delicacy to the pie and then the chopped strawberries.

— And… that’s it! — The last strawberry is placed on top of the whipped cream. Trey picks up his pie and looks at it with some pride — It's this decoration that makes customers ask for more and more, I don't know, it seems like they simply only like it if it looks like that, it's strange, isn't it? — He comments with a laugh.

You look at his pie and think about how long Trey must have worked with sweets, especially strawberry pie, to reach this level of perfection.

You wondered if your decor would be as good as his.

— Okay! Your time! — He says, handing you your pie and the utensils for decoration — It's very easy, you'll see — An encouraging smile appears on his lips

— Don’t expect too much from me… — Your confidence exuding

Not wanting to take too long, you take the pot, the spatula and pour some Whipped Cream onto your pie. Luckily, the whipped cream circle comes out perfect.

— I did it! — A smile escapes your face — I didn't ruin the pie!

— If you keep talking like that, it might happen — Trey catches your attention and you respond by pouting — Come on, finish with the whipped cream first and then add the strawberries, which is the easiest part

Obeying his orders, you repeat the same way as before when pouring another drop of whipped cream on the pie.

However, you weren't very lucky this time.

Instead of the drop forming a beautiful, delicate circle, the whipped cream ended up escaping the spatula and a large amount of it spread across the cake, forming anything but a small circle.

— Ah… — Your voice condemning your disappointment at seeing what had happened

But all you could hear was Trey's laugh in the background

— I told you that if you kept saying those things this could happen — A laugh escapes Trey's throat

Your face becomes enraged at the mockery of the green-haired man in front of you. You decide to give up on forming small delicate circles and opt to simply spread the whipped cream all over the top of the pie, "it looks much better like that!", you think, trying to admit that your decoration had been superior to Trey's

— Okay, I'm done! Excuse me. — You respond with disdain — Without even waiting for any response from him

— Oh, that was fun, for sure — You hear him say as you walk away to your dorm

From now on you would think twice, maybe three, four or five before agreeing to do anything with this man again, especially if it was strawberry pies.

With night already taking over the entire sky with the moon and stars, while returning to Diasomnia you found yourself thinking about what the students in your dorm would think about your pie. Would they like it? You weren't so sure about the taste, but since it was Trey's recipe you assumed it wouldn't be bad!

"Well, at least it would be better than Lilia's food for sure", you thought, and a smile escaped.

But even though the opinions of other students didn't bother you much, you, after all, only cared about one person out of all of them.

Malleus.

The horned fae who exudes power and strikes fear into all who look upon him. It wasn't like your crush on him was something few people knew about. You blamed yourself for it, but sometimes you couldn't control yourself around him and your feelings were always showing. Your eyes condemning you.

When you arrived at the dormitory, you could already see the vision of some students studying, others gossiping in one of the corners of the main hall, others practicing magic on themselves or their classmates… well, it was something you were already used to seeing in your dormitory.

You didn't notice, but the still hot pie gave off its scent to everyone, attracting a lot of curious looks at you and the box you had in your hands.

— Yes, it's one of Trey's pies if that's what you're thinking — You respond, already knowing that you couldn't hide this fact for long

— Can we have a piece?? — One of the boys asked

You thought a little before answering, because you wanted Malleus to taste your pie, Lilia wouldn't be a bad idea either, you loved receiving praise from Diasomnia's vice-prefect.

Well, but the fear of the pie being terrible haunted you again. The decor was horrible, there was no denying that, but you were going to take a chance on the taste.

— Okay, you can have a piece. Just ONE ok? — You open the packaging where the pie was and face that decoration disaster again — In fact…. It was… I who… did… — You already regret it

The student who placed the order approached and looked at the pie.

— Well, it's definitely more appetizing than Lilia's food, that's for sure. — He said and took a piece of your pie.

You couldn't hold back your laughter upon hearing the comment. In fact, the vice-prefect's meals were terrible… to say the least, so of course the students would think your pie was phenomenal.

— Wow, it's incredible! — He replied — Congratulations Y/N! You are an excellent cook!

You were surprised by your colleague's comment

— Serious? Thanks! — Your face showing disruption.

Your happiness was so much that you didn't even watch a large crowd of students eating your pie either.

— Hey… wait. Leave at least a piece, please! — Your voice tried to reach the students' ears, but the effort was in vain, none of them heard you.

As you tried to fend off some of them to try and save your piece of the pie, your voice began to take on a different tone, one of fear, concern.

— Guys, please! Don't eat all the pie! — Your voice breaking and the fear of taking over — I told you to leave at least a piece!

When they finished eating, they started to walk away and only then did you get a glimpse of your pie… or at least what was left of it.

Nothing.

There wasn't a single piece left. No trace that it even existed. They left nothing for you to offer Malleus.

As you looked at the empty box in front of you, your eyes filled with tears. You had worked so hard to make that pie. You came back so thoughtful about the feeling of having Malleus experience something made by you… you liked seeing and knowing what he thought about you and the things you did.

You wanted to spend this time with him, to hear from him what he thought of your strawberry pie.

But that was all over, there was no more to give to Malleus.

Angry, you huddled in Diasomnia's kitchen cabinet and cried. You cried everything your heart asked for. All your sadness and regret poured out. You weren't exactly angry with your colleagues, you didn't blame them for not listening to you (at least not entirely), but you blamed yourself even more for not having set aside a piece for Malleus yourself.

— Whatever… — Your voice was muffled

As you gave in to your loneliness and sadness, you heard a familiar voice coming from the front door of the main hall.

— Well… do any of you know where she is? I had promised her that I would deliver a piece of my pie but… she left before I could deliver it.

Wait.

You knew that voice.

Trey??

You wipe the tears from your eyes and run towards the door, where three boys could be seen staring at the green-haired man.

As soon as he looks at you, he shows you the piece of pie that was in his hand

— Hey Y/N! You left before I could give you this. You made me promise that I would give you at least one piece of my pie to try and compare with yours, remember?

It´s truth! You had forgotten, you bothered Trey so much to give you a piece of his pie that after he made fun of your decoration you simply left and forgot about the promise.

You walk over and pick up the piece.

— Thanks Trey… but now there's no way I can compare — You say, your voice already breaking again

Trey looks at you closely and decides to ask.

— Isn't there any left for him?

You just nod your head

Trey knew why you wanted to take a whole pie back to your dorm. He knew you wanted to impress Malleus. That's why he helped you.

Before you could say anything else you both hear heavy footsteps coming from behind you.

— What's going on here? — A deep voice asks, causing chills throughout all the students.

Except for you, because you recognized that voice as well as you recognized Trey's voice.

Malleus.

—Oh? Y/N? What happened? Why are you standing here by the door? —Malleus asks you, his gaze full of curiosity.

— She would like you to try the pie she made — Trey responds in your place.

You look at him with a glare. Everyone in the dorm already knew about your love for Malleus, but Trey didn't need to make it obvious to Malleus himself either.

— Is it true Y/N? — He asks

You didn't know exactly how to feel, you weren't the one who actually made that piece. The decor was beautiful, completely different from yours. However, the recipe was the same, it was Trey's recipe, and the students who ate it said it was just as good. So there probably wasn't much of a difference.

— Only if you want… — You replied quietly, very shy.

You were someone else when Malleus was in the same room as you.

Malleus looks at the piece of strawberry pie held out to him.

— I would love to — And like that, he takes the piece from your hands and puts it in his mouth

The world stops at that moment, the pie wasn't even yours, but the fact that you said it was caused the same anxiety as if it were yours. Malleus bites a piece, chews, swallows, bites another, chews, swallows.

You swore your heart would stop there, at that moment. You even got scared when you saw Trey as worried as you were.

— It's wonderful — He smiles satisfied — I'm happy to know that you have a gift for confectionery Y/N — He praises and bites another piece

You can't even believe it. Your face turns all red. You feel warm. Your heart is pounding. It worked, you received a compliment from Malleus! You couldn't even believe it.

— Looks like someone won the night now — Trey comments with a smile and you can't even be nervous with him, he literally saved you

—Oh? I didn't know that Y/N wanted me to try her pie so much — Malleus lets out a laugh — If you want me to try something so much, next time take it directly to me and I'll tell you exactly what I think. — He smiles at you, his pointy teeth showing.

You don't remember exactly how, but you remember your eyes closing and your head hitting the floor of the Diasomnia.

[gotta-winwin]

Can I request a full oneshot on that dino when accepting an award like shouting out his wife and watching the internet explode and the members reaction to him I NEED THIS it got me kicking my feet and giggling just by thinking this 🛐🛐🛐 HAHHAHAHA

btw I LOVE YOUR WRITINGS!! 😘

hehehe omg ofc! i was kicking my feet and giggling while writing this dino has no business looking THAT fine and bias wreaking me ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡) thank you so much for both requesting and enjoying my work!

where's the trophy... he just comes running over to me <3

masterlist fic that prompted this oneshot

word count: 1.4k tw/cw: idol!dino x wife!reader, childhood friends to lovers, public shoutout, a whole lot of sap, seungkwan clowning dino a/n: writing this just makes me want to see svt with their s/o in real life (we know these boys aint single bro)

It's a quiet and unassuming day until you're reminded that today is the MAMA awards. It didn't help that the award show wasn't hosted in Korea this year, leading to you being stuck on your couch, hands quivering as the show began.

It had been a tough yet rewarding year for Chan and his group mates, and you had been lucky enough to see it all. You felt proud that even with the distance, you had always been the first person Chan would call for anything.

Headlining Glastonbury? He had shined brightly onstage and even brighter during your video call, where he took you through his day, making it feel like you had been with him every step of the way.

Tour? He was texting you in between songs, updating you on the tiniest things despite you scolding him that he needed to concentrate on the show. He just couldn't help it, his mind immediately drifting to you whenever something remotely interesting took place. Baby, DK's pants ripped onstage just now. He'd text you, shoulders still shaking from laughter. Coups hyung got barked at again. Whatever tidbit it was, Chan's name lighting up on your screen was a warm embrace compared to the lonely nights without him.

It'd all be worth it now, you thought, as you let out a gasp of joy when Seventeen's name was announced as Artist of the Year. Your hands were still shaking as you picked up your phone to record the moment.

Chan's face glowed on your tv screen as he walked up with his members to accept the award. You couldn't help but remember how he used to look - kidish, tiny, cute and juvenile. You recalled how drastic the change had been, as you both matured and grew together, leading you to realize how hot he looked - so built and handsome. Yet it was the bubbly glow that stayed with him despite aging that you loved the most.

"Thank you Carats!" Your husband raised the trophy proudly into the air. "You know...I was the only one who didn't get to speak when we won a daesang last year..."

You couldn't help but scoff endearingly at how sassy he could be while receiving an award you knew would make him sob to you later.

"Ever since our debut," He continued, staring at you through the tv screen. "My dream was to be an artist that would remain in history."

You could remember that, even now, years later.

"I'm going to make you a promise." 15 year old Chan had told you, on the rare chance he had gotten a break from training. He had taken the two of you to the park in between Pledis and your house.

"Promise me what?" You had replied, lips feinting a small smile as you watched his eager expression.

"That one day, I'm going to be an artist that will stay throughout history." His face was full of raw determination. "And that you'll be right there with me. On top of the world. One day, I'll be an artist you can be proud of."

Seems like he kept that promise.

"And those feelings..." He continued speaking into the mic. "Those feelings will continue as we go into the future with Carats." The crowed cheered at his words.

You could tell from his face that something was up. He had that mischievous look that would only come out whenever he was about to do something to tease you.

"And..." He took a pause, smiling at the dramatic effect it had caused. "Well..."

You half wanted to reach through the tv and smack him, as your heart raced in anticipation. You had ran through his speech with him on video call days ago. This wasn't part of it.

"I once made a promise to someone," He finally said aloud, and you knew immediately what he was doing, mouth dropping in both surprise and realization. "A long time ago, when we were both very young, I made a promise that I would become an artist she could be proud of." He smiled bashfully at the memory of both the moment and the person. "I also promised her that she would be there with me, on top of the world."

You had to sit down, your legs failing you.

"I kept my promise, didn't I?" He said into the mic, and you could tell he was speaking just to you. "I hope you're proud of everything I've done, my lovely, patient wife. Only you could've stuck by me for fourteen years." He added the last part teasingly. "I love you." He raised the trophy in his hands. "This- this is for you." Pausing, he corrected himself. "Well- for you and the members." He smiled sheepishly at the boys behind him. "It is our award."

Dino had gotten Seungcheol's approval minutes before the award show began, begging the leader to let him shout out his wife. "Please, please, please, hyung." He had pleaded, trying to convey that this was literally his lifelong dream. "I've always wanted to do that. Just drop a bomb into the world and walk off." Seungcheol could only sigh, staring at him with a mix of exasperation and amusement. He nodded, although he knew it would inevitably create a media frenzy for the company to clean up. "Go for it." He patted their maknae on the back. "Not my problem, not my mess."

Jeonghan had been kept blissfully in the dark until he was watching their acceptance speech live. The further Dino's speech went, the further his jaw dropped. He couldn't wrap his head around the fact that Dino was shouting out his wife on the stage at MAMA awards, accepting an AOTY award. Immediately after, he calls Dino up, scolding him for not telling him sooner and admitting it was a baller move.

Joshua had been busy trying to comfort a near-tears Seungcheol, Dino's speech barely registering in his ears. He's blissfully confused when the crowd goes bonkers, yelling into DK's ear to tell him what on earth happened. He's proud of Dino, acknowledging that their maknae has grown up to the point that the world now knows he has a whole wife.

All the way in China, Jun's watching the show live on his phone from his trailer on set. The connection is spotty, leaving his members in pixels and full of lag. Thankfully, the only clear part is Dino's speech, leaving Jun in deep shock and a little wounded. He wished he had been there for that.

Hoshi's loud ass gasp is the only thing fans can hear from the crowd other than their own screaming. It's clear on his face that he's flabbergasted - leading fans to speculate if he even knew Dino had a wife.

Wonwoo can't help but let out a hearty laugh once the weight of Dino's speech sinks into his bones. He knows the media and fans are going to have sooo much fun with this. He feels bad that you're now in the spotlight and hopes Dino got your permission beforehand...did he?

Very busy trying to will his tears away, Woozi's shocked out of his feels, tears evaporating at the sound of Dino's voice and the word wife. He's shocked, but happiness takes over when he realizes this will overshadow the fact that he's about to ball on global tv.

Minghao's just got that goofy shocked expression on his face as he registers the moment. He's smiling from ear to ear, basking in the joy that's radiating off of Dino. Who is he to stand in the way of Dino finally showing off his love?

Mingyu is over the moon. Having been your biggest supporter, he's elated you and Dino are finally going public. The fact that he's currently onstage accepting a daesang is completely thrown out of his mind, replaced with the joy of seeing Dino thrive.

Poor Woozi has DK's arms wrapped around him as if DK's trying to suffocate the man. He can't contain his excitement and joy at the reveal, accidentally using Woozi as a stress ball. He tackles Dino as they walk offstage, yelling about how CUTE that was and how lucky you are to have each other.

Seungkwan's stunned into complete silence. He's lowkey judging (just a little bit) at how insane Dino is acting right now - knowing this is bound to stir the pot online. He's the first one to tease Dino, going as far as clowning him during his own speech. "I once made a promise..." Seungkwan fails to keep a straight face as he clowned Dino's speech to his wife. "And I-" He's kicked off the mic by Dino before he can finish.

Vernon simply nods in approval as he watches Dino finish his speech. He respects the confidence and craziness to do such a thing, especially with how dating was basically a taboo for them as idols- and bros hard launching a whole ass wife!

[zhounauts]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡ THE REVENGE HOTLINE ! PSH X FMR

SYNOPSIS got cheated on? ghosted? played? don't worry, the revenge hotlines got you! it's run by girls, and it's for the girls. XX ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ in which you're sent on a new mission by the revenge hotline to take down ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ever notorious heartbreaker, star hockey player park sunghoon. will you succeed? or will you also fall victim to his charm? WRNGS ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏͏ cursing, parties(?)

“HELLO? REVENGE HOTLINE SPEAKING,”

“h-hello?” there’s sniffling from the other side of the phone.

“hey girl! are you okay?”

“no!” the voice wails, “men are shit!”

“oh, you poor thing,” haewon mumbles, “what happened?”

“well i thought we were something!” the voice angrily rants, “i’m so stupid, my friends all told me this would happen but i listened to all those stupid things he said to me and fell for it! how am i so stupid??”

“hey, don’t blame yourself,” haewon says, “it isn’t your fault. you were gaslighted when all you wanted to do was be loved and cared for by someone, don’t call yourself stupid for that. i know you’re better than that,”

the sniffling slows, “really?” the voice hiccups.

“really,” haewon smiles, “trust me girl, it gets better. but for now? just cry it out and surround yourself with the people who really care. one guy shouldn’t ruin everything,”

“you’re right,” the girl sniffles, “thanks a lot,”

“now, on to business,” haewon says, “who are you calling to report?”

“. . .” the girl hestitates, “it was park sunghoon. he did this to me,”

00 - plan puck bunny masterlist ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ previous ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ next

a/n hey ho!! + the taglist is open! FILL OUT THIS FORM HERE TO BE ADDED

taglist @bubblytaetea @psgyu-deactivated20241122 @enhastolemyheart @n1k1mura @flwrior

@fgumi @right-person-wrong-time @karinashairdryer @yeokii @coqhee

@sugarikiz

[bird-inacage]

The Heart Killers EP1: Early Hints into Kant's Backstory

Kant is shaping up to be a very intriguing character in my opinion, and no doubt more so thanks to Khaotung's gushing. We've already been given a number of early signposts towards Kant's backstory, so this is my recap and speculations on what we know so far.

THE SKILLS OF A THIEF

We're shown through a flashback that Kant used to steal cars and sell them on - a series of crimes which Captain Chris agreed to disregard in exchange for Kant's previous assistance on his cases.

The natural question to ask would be why? Why was Kant stealing cars? If I were to hazard a guess, possibly due to dire financial straits where this was his only means to support his family. Bison comments, "from your car and how you dress, you don't look like a typical tattoo artist, you know? More like those uppercrust tattoo artists." Kant retorts he just makes enough to get by. I wouldn't be surprised if he and his brother did grow up in some form of poverty or limited means. It would then make sense then why Kant is so driven to support his brother's dreams - because they've felt so out of reach.

The other big question on my mind is why involve Kant? Did Chris see this as a form of charity or rehabilitation for a wayward youth, or an opportunity to exploit a boy who happened to possess valuable skills? "Keep your eye on you and your brother's future. You're a smart brat. You'll find a way." Either Chris is a dubious cop with questionable methods (including coercion), or Kant is a budding criminal mastermind whose too slippery not to be kept on side by the police. (If anyone remembers the Leonardo DiCaprio film 'Catch me if you can', the film's young protagonist is extremely adept at fraud and once caught, is then hired as a fraud detective due to his knowledge and experience of such crimes).

There has to be more than just Kant's history of stealing cars that has Chris so confident in his ability to help with this specific case. And to tackle hitmen of all things where Kant's life could be in serious danger.

AN ELUSIVE FATHER

Kant's parents have not been explicitly mentioned, but references to his father have been implied. They certainly don't live with parental figures so Kant appears to be Babe's sole legal guardian. As he's now 29 years old, Kant may have taken Babe with him once at legal age, or after reasons that kept their parents out of the picture.

In Kant's first scene, he gets a call from a contact named "old fart". My immediate hunch is this could be his father. Moreso, Kant looks visibly exasperated so they're clearly not on the best of terms.

I may very well be jumping here, but something has me speculating if Kant's father had any influence on his car theft; whether his father was the one who taught him how, or was in some form of trouble that Kant stole cars to fend for him and his brother out of desperation.

On a contrasting note, Kant does mention that his father left him his car, a possession that seems particularly dear to him as he's constantly warding off Style's attempts to pry it from his hands. It later becomes the very demand Style bargains for in order to agree to help distract Fadel, and Kant is visibly reluctant to let it go. Needless to say, his relationship with his father may be complicated.

BROTHERLY AFFECTION

We haven't been told Babe's age, but he's been seen wearing school uniform in some BTS photos - so late teens would be my guess. Babe expresses an interest in English literature and Shakespeare, vowing to visit the UK eventually to see his plays in person. If the two brothers did grow up under difficult circumstances, it would be safe to assume that such academic pursuits and going overseas would seem like a luxury, and very much aspirational rather than realistic.

Despite this, Kant is clearly very supportive of his brother's interests and wellbeing. He's very fond of him, and Babe is the sole motivation for why Kant is blackmailed into assisting Chris. This love goes both ways. Babe doesn't ask too many questions about what Kant gets up to as long as he's being safe. He looks happy for him when he spots Kant and Bison together.

I wonder if he has any idea of Kant's criminal history or that he's been assisting the police. My instinct would be no, as Kant would likely be inclined to protect his brother or to prevent him from worrying.

If anyone knows Thai and can translate, I'd be interested to know if there are any notable tidbits visible on Kant's criminal file (above).

You can keep tabs on bird-inacage’s BL meta directory for my other long-form posts around The Heart Killers, which I’ll be updating in real time as the show airs. Probably worth reading my analysis on the FK's character interviews where some of these points are touched on.

[rogerswifesblog]

Christmas miracle

my Masterlist

Summary: You are visiting one of Starks charity events. The unexpected happens.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x F!reader

Warnings; none?

A/N: it’s a bit soon for Christmas fluff but whatever here you go!

Don’t forget to share:) comments and reblogs are very appreciated!

Sparkling lights drape over every surface, with wreaths and garlands adorning the walls and doorways, their greenery offset by crimson ribbons and gold accents. A towering Christmas tree stands in the center of the room, its branches shimmering with ornaments and soft, twinkling lights.

A soft smile crept on your lips as you looked around the room. Stark really did know how to make a place look special. It was…magical.

While you were looking around, there was someone looking at you.

Even though Steve was engaged in a conversation with Bucky, he had forgotten the topic a long time ago, since his attention was somewhere else. To him, you looked incredible; a breathtaking dress that perfectly captures your elegance. The gown being a rich emerald green, the fabric catching the light with a soft, luxurious sheen, with a hint of vintage charm, while the flowing skirt cascades to the floor in soft, graceful waves.

“Okay then ignore me. Fine”, Bucky sighed dramatically, making Steve chuckle as he looked at his friend back. “Sorry I-“ “You’re distracted, I can tell. Go talk to her. Who knows, maybe it’ll be a little Christmas miracle and she’ll wanna go out with you-maybe she’ll even give you a kiss”, Bucky teased his best friend, making the blond blush as he elbowed him to the side.

But he did decide to talk to you.

While he had talked to Bucky for a few more seconds, in which you had turned your back to them. He noticed the thin satin ribbon, tied into a bow at the back, as he approached you.

„Good evening, Ma’am”, he greeted you, making you turn to him, a soft smile on your lips, a champagne glass in your hand. Paired with the dress, a set of simple diamond stud earrings and a matching bracelet lend an understated elegance, while a soft, sheer shawl rests lightly over your shoulders, perfect for the evening’s chill. You were breathtaking.

“Good evening, Sir”, you chuckled at the official terms, yet immediately realising he really meant it. It was Steve Rogers, dressed in a replica of his Second World War uniform. He looked good. Especially since, when you saw him on the tv or other events, he often wore his captain America suit.

Your smile became even bigger, Steve Rogers was exactly the man you wanted to talk to; the charity was, from what you had heard, his idea. The “Veterans list to Santa” charity was a charity where everyone could choose a Christma lost written by a veteran and make a gift for them-and if not, just donate money. Which in your opinion was amazing. “Great idea Mr Rogers. This whole thing”, you smiled. You liked this idea especially because your father was a veteran, too, but he had more luck; he had a family that took care of him after he came home, blinded from an explosion, the impact affecting his eyesight.

But you knew there were many veterans that didn’t have the same help. Some of them even ended up on the streets, after they had fought for the county…the country didn’t give much back to them.

The man blushed a little as he shrugged. “Thank you, I…I just think they deserve it. And Christmas is a time of giving, right?”, he smiled bashfully, watching you taking a list from the dozens of the placed letters on the decorated tables.

Steve watched as you read it, some tears glistening in the corner of your eyes, the words touching your heart.

So you weren’t not only stunning, but also caring.

“Well, that is true Mr-“ “call me Steve, please”, he said, holding out his hand, which you gladly took-not expecting him to pull it up to his lips, leaving a gentle kiss on the back of your hand behind. After introducing yourself, you two chatted for a moment.

Laughing you looked up at Steve as he told you how he had once fallen into the big Christmas tree Stark always put up, being too sleepy one morning and just forgetting it was there- “I don’t believe you” “trust me, Stark still has the footage”, he grinned, enjoying making you laugh, even then making a fool out of himself.

“Punk!”, Buckys voice was loud enough to make you both look at him, as he motioned over your heads.

And-

There was a mistletoe in a reddish light that hadn’t been there before. He looked back at Bucky and just as expected Wanda appeared next to him, both of them grinning. “Steve, you know what it means”, he blushed deeply at wandas words, before looking back at you.

“Don’t worry, we don’t-“ before he could finish your sentence you had placed your hand on his cheek and pulled him into a deep but soft kiss. He gasped against your lips, before-still a bit shocked-placing his hands at your waist.

Steve could definitely hear Bucky whistle in the background, making people stop talking and probably follow his gaze to the both of you as you slowly parted. You waited for him to say something, but he only looked at you dumbfounded.

“Well now it’s time you ask me on a date, Steve.”

Hi! Thank you for reading!!

Reblogs and feedback are highly appreciated. Support your content creators:)

Taglist: @rogersbarber @inlovewithchrisevans

Flood my inbox with HC, Drabble/OS ideas or questions! Just whatever you want to leave there! Anons welcome 😋

[scarletwinterxx]

not dating huh? - xu minghao imagine

let me start this fic of by saying CONGRATTTTSSS TO SVT🥺🥺🥺 gosh i'm so so so proud of them, they deserve all those awards and all the recognition. ahhh i'm just so happy for them😭🥺🤍

i have a few more scenarios lined up, i was working on some of them while I was gone so expect a few more to be posted on the following days🤭 oh also... i'm seeing svt on january 😱😭 anywaysss that's all i hope u enjoy this one!

for my other svt fics, check them here

if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)

You’re standing in the middle of the café, a half-empty cup of coffee in front of you, stirring absentmindedly as you glance around the room. It’s one of those quiet afternoons, the kind where people come to catch up or work, the hum of quiet chatter filling the air. You're talking to Minghao, and for the hundredth time, he’s insisting that you two are not dating.

“I told you, I’m not your boyfriend,” Minghao repeats, leaning back in his chair, his fingers tracing the rim of his own coffee cup. His eyes are playful, but there's a hint of something softer beneath that mischievous glint, something you’ve come to recognize and ignore... for now.

You raise an eyebrow at him, trying to keep the amused smile on your face from turning into something else. 

You've heard this a lot from Minghao recently. It's the constant not dating mantra, but every time he says it, he’s practically glued to your side. You don’t think anyone else believes him, either, but no one dares to ask.

“Okay, then,” you say, your voice deliberately casual. “So, you’re not my boyfriend, but you’re still following me around everywhere?”

He shrugs nonchalantly, though his lips twitch into a smile. “That’s just because I enjoy your company. Not the same as being a boyfriend, right?”

You can't help but laugh. You don’t even try to hide it this time. Minghao’s insistence is almost ridiculous, especially when he practically becomes your shadow. The two of you do everything together—grab lunch, watch movies, wander through bookstores, share inside jokes no one else gets—and yet, every time you bring it up, he acts like you’re being dramatic.

You lean forward, lowering your voice in a teasing tone. “So, if you’re not my boyfriend, then what exactly are we doing here? Just two people who happen to be spending all their time together?”

He’s quiet for a moment, staring at you. Then, his expression softens, like he’s considering something. 

“We’re… friends,” he says, but the word sounds strangely hollow coming from him.

You roll your eyes. The word friend doesn’t even come close to covering what you two are. But you don’t push it. 

Not yet, anyway.

“Well,” you say, sitting back in your chair and crossing your arms, “I guess I can’t argue with that. But, I’m not gonna lie, it’s a little weird, don’t you think?”

Minghao raises an eyebrow, his voice laced with humor. “Weird how?”

You take a slow, deliberate sip of your coffee, letting the silence stretch for a moment, before you lean forward and say the words you know will make him react.

“Well, I mean, if we’re ‘just friends,’ then why do you always call me babe?”

He chokes on his coffee. You can’t help but grin at the sight, watching him scramble for a napkin as his face flushes. Minghao clears his throat, looking at you in mock offense.

“I do not call you babe.”

“Oh, really?” you challenge, raising an eyebrow. 

“What do you call me then, hmm?”

“I… I call you your name?” he says, though it sounds more like a question than a fact. 

“You’re you. I don’t—”

“You totally just said ‘babe’ last week,” you cut in, leaning closer to him with a smile. “So, don’t lie.”

He sighs in defeat, leaning back in his chair again. “Fine, I admit it. But that doesn’t mean we’re dating, okay?”

You can see the faint blush on his cheeks, and it only makes your teasing grow stronger. You decide to push a little more, just to see how far you can take this.

“Well, babe, let’s go,” you say, standing up suddenly, picking up your purse. “We’re leaving. This place is too boring anyway.”

You say it with a grin, making sure to emphasize the word ‘babe’ as you glance down at him, just waiting for his reaction. You’re fully expecting him to say something, to try to deny the whole situation again. But instead, Minghao doesn’t even hesitate. He just stands up, his eyes locking onto yours, and then, as though it’s the most natural thing in the world, he follows you toward the door without a word.

The bell above the café door jingles softly as you step outside, the cool air hitting your skin as you walk briskly down the street, Minghao right behind you. 

You can feel his presence there, just a few steps behind you, and you wonder if he’s as calm as he appears, or if he’s just trying not to make this more complicated than it already is.

“So,” you ask, breaking the silence. “Where are we going?”

He shrugs again, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket. “I don’t know. You said we were leaving, so I’m just following you.”

You glance back at him, his easy smile lighting up his face. It’s hard to tell if he’s messing with you or being completely serious. Either way, you can’t stop the flutter in your chest. 

The dynamic between you two has always been strange, but there’s a certain comfort in it, something you’re not quite ready to let go of.

“Yeah, well, if we’re not dating,” you mutter under your breath, “you’re definitely acting like you are.”

Minghao’s laugh reaches your ears before he says, “I told you, we’re not. I’m just… following my favorite person around, okay?”

You stop in your tracks, turning to face him. His expression is as serious as it ever gets, and you can’t help but wonder if there’s more to this than he’s letting on. You’ve been friends for so long, and even with all the teasing and back-and-forth, you can’t deny that the connection between you two runs deeper than anything you’ve ever had with anyone else.

You look up at him, your eyes searching his face, trying to figure out if he’s playing with you or if there’s a hidden truth behind his words. After a beat, he looks at you with that same look he always gives you when he’s not sure how to say something: a quiet sincerity in his gaze that makes your heart skip a beat.

“I’m not dating you,” he repeats, but this time, his voice is softer. “But if I was, it would be a good thing, right?”

You smile, stepping closer to him. “Yeah,” you reply, your voice a little more tender than before. “It would be.”

And for the first time, you both stand there in that strange, unspoken space, where neither of you says anything else. But neither of you needs to. Because the truth is already there, unspoken, in the way Minghao watches you, in the way you both keep walking forward together.

Not dating, huh? You both know better.

[muniimyg]

♡ 05: i bet we'd have really good—

series m.list // taglist

note: wowie,, thank u for 1.5k and for being so patient 💛 i’m so happy to be ending this mini fic and to have been interacting with u all :) my apologies if this ch sucks LOL i'm so sick rn but i'm tired of rewriting n writing... so enj !!! it's been so fun and i can't wait for more fics to come in 2025 !!! kisses my kitties😽💓

⏱️ this part goes thru time skips!

💭 which bed chem jk moment was ur fave?

warnings: tension/slow burn (friends first yk),, mean!jk trying to figure out how to be nicer to oc,, jk calls oc baby and kitty !!! teasing/dry humping (bc jk has glasses on. jk plays with her titties/nipples & jk cums thru his sweatpants),, jealousy (v teeny tiny),, virginity talk/actual sex; oc loses her virginity to jk (jk eats her out/fingers her, ass slapping, dirty talk, rawdogging,, missionary, doggy, blowjob/headpushing & face cumshot)

//

it’s been a week since jungkook kissed you, and he has made it your problem.

truth be told, he has made a game of this—hovering without hovering… just close enough to test the line. whatever way he plays, jungkook is always shameless in the most subtle and maddening ways.

sometimes his hand brushes yours as you walk, light and fleeting… and it’s impossible not to notice the way his fingers twitch. it’s like he’s debating whether to grab it or not.

you don’t make it any easier on yourself, either.

there’s this suffocating tension between you two and some days are better than others… like today.

“why are you so quiet?” you ask, glancing at him over your shoulder.

he tilts his head, feigning confusion. 

“why? does the silence make your heart race?”

you scoff, rolling your eyes, and that’s when he strikes—his foot nudging yours mid-step. it’s just enough to throw you off balance, making you stumble slightly, your bag slipping again.

“jungkook!”

he’s already reaching out, catching the strap before it can fall. 

“careful,” he says, his voice all mock concern, but the way his lips twitch gives him away.

you glare at him, yanking your bag out of his grip. 

“you’re the one who tripped me.”

“prove it."

"seriously?"

"if you can't prove it... you have to kiss me. you know, as compensation for accusing me so unjustly." he says, wide-eyed and innocent, though the corners of his mouth are curling into a smirk.

it’s infuriating, but it’s also... not. 

not when he’s looking at you like that, like he knows exactly how to get under your skin and is thoroughly enjoying it.

“do friends kiss?” you narrow your gaze at him. “do friends trip each other over? do friends—“

“do friends wait for each other?” jungkook leans towards you. “mhmm? do friends have ulterior motives—”

“you have ulterior motives?”

“oh, absolutely.”

friendship. 

it’s odd to say the least—the way you and jungkook have fallen into this friendship. that’s what you’ve both agreed on. 

friends. 

but the lines are blurry. 

so blurry they might as well not exist at all… because what kind of friends kiss on the cheek as casually as saying hello? what kind of friends text each other goodnight every single evening, or linger too long in conversations that could end with a simple goodbye?

the rules of your agreement feel more like suggestions—ones jungkook seems intent on bending just enough to keep you guessing. and you let him, which might be the strangest part of all.

… because deep down, you know this isn’t just friendship. not with the way he looks at you, his gaze lingering a second too long, or the way his touch always feels like a question he’s waiting for you to answer.

but maybe that’s the thing about blurry lines—they give you just enough room to pretend you don’t already know where you’re headed.

yet, even with all his teasing, there’s a hesitancy to him sometimes—a split-second pause when your hands brush, a quiet shift in his expression when he catches you looking at him. it’s like he’s still figuring out how to balance whatever this is between you, testing the waters but not wanting to dive in too fast.

and honestly?

you feel the same.

it’s why you let him get away with stuff like this. why you don’t pull away when his hand accidentally-on-purpose brushes yours for the third time in as many minutes. why you don’t tell him to stop following you to your study spot or showing up outside your class with some excuse about “just being in the area.”

because the truth is, you like having him around. 

you like the way he keeps you on your toes… even if it’s by trying to trip you up, only to catch you before you fall.

and maybe—just maybe—you like the way his smile softens sometimes when he thinks you’re not looking.

tonight, the group decides on a night out.

the street food spot everyone agreed on is already buzzing when you get there, the warm glow of string lights crisscrossing above the narrow alleyways, casting soft shadows on the busy stalls below. the air is alive with the scent of sizzling tteokbokki and freshly steamed hotteok, mingling with bursts of laughter and the occasional pop of oil from a nearby grill.

you arrive late as usual. 

by the time you weave your way through the crowd, the others have scattered, splitting up to hunt down whatever caught their eye. 

that’s when you spot him.

jungkook leans lazily against a lamppost near the edge of the main street, one hand tucked into his pocket, the other holding a stick of half-eaten odeng. the glow from the lights above reflects faintly in his dark eyes, making them look warmer than usual, though his expression stays comfortably neutral—like he’s been waiting.

but he doesn’t mind.

“you’re late,” he says as you approach, not even bothering to straighten up. his voice is low, unbothered, but there’s something teasing in the way his lips twitch into the barest hint of a smirk.

“i’m literally 5 minutes late.”

“still late.”

jungkook takes one last bite of the fish cake before tossing the stick into a nearby bin. he steps closer, casual but deliberate, and before you can come up with a snappy reply, he leans down and presses a quick kiss to your cheek.

it’s smooth—too smooth.

it’s like he’s been doing it forever.

you barely have time to register the warmth blooming in your chest before he’s grabbing your hands, shoving them unceremoniously into the front pocket of his hoodie along with his own.

“jungkook—”

“your hands looked cold,” he says simply, his tone light, like this is the most natural thing in the world.

his fingers shift slightly, brushing against yours, and though his expression stays neutral, you catch the subtle curve of his mouth—the smug kind he tries to hide but never quite manages.

you roll your eyes, more out of habit than anything else, and let out a sigh...

but you don’t pull away.

“i have gloves.”

“they're ugly."

you glare at him.

"... and you have me."

the air stills.

“what?” he asks, his shoulder bumping yours as he starts walking, steering you toward the first row of stalls.

“nothing.”

but the corner of your mouth twitches. you try to hold back your smile.

he catches it, of course. 

his grin widens, soft and slow.

jungkook nudges you again, this time with more intention. you can feel the warmth of his hand through the fabric, steady and sure, even as the cold night air bites at your skin.

you can't help but give in. a laugh escapes your lips as you nudge him back. jungkook laughs too, but pulls you close at the very last second.

he breathes you in.

the first stall serves fresh tteokbokki, steaming and spicy. the scent alone makes your stomach growl, but jungkook is already a step ahead, paying for the food before you can reach for your wallet.

“you didn’t have to do that,” you say, trying to grab a pair of chopsticks from the tray.

he beats you to it, of course, picking up a piece of tteokbokki with the kind of exaggerated precision that makes you squint at him. then, he places the chopsticks in between your fingers.

“feed me," he says.

“absolutely not."

he steps closer. 

“okay, fine. i’ll feed you—”

you shove the tteok in his mouth. 

he chews, chuckling and enjoying your choice. 

“you’re so annoying,” you tell him as he swallows.

“really? am i?”

“really. you are."

jungkook shrugs. 

then, he takes the chopsticks and picks up a tteok, and feeds you. he watches closely as you chew, his wide eyes fixed on your face in a way that makes you feel exposed.

“how annoying?”

in between chews, you fixate on his smirk. as he leans into level with you, you almost choke at how his nose nearly brushed yours. you can feel the weight of his gaze, daring you to say something.

“jungkook…” you warn, your voice flat, but your hands betray you. they reach up to cup his cheeks, and though your intention is to shove him back, you don’t.

instead, your thumbs press lightly against the soft skin of his jaw as you squint at him.

“what’s this smile?” you ask, narrowing your eyes. “what are you so excited over, bestie?”

his expression flickers for a second, his brows twitching in annoyance at the word. you know he hates it when you call him that. bestie? who are you even talking to?

“your lips look cold. can i warm them up for you?” he asks suddenly, his voice dropping low enough to send shivers down your spine.

you scoff, warmth creeping up your neck. “nice try—”

“no, no, i insist,” he interrupts, tilting his head slightly, pretending to think it over. “don't want you to be all cold and shit.”

“jungkook.” your tone is sharp, but it’s laced with amusement, and he knows it.

“what?” he murmurs, leaning in closer, his lips curving into a smirk. “you said you want to take things slow. i’ll kiss you real slow—”

your jaw drops. 

“you’re impossible.”

he stands back up with a grin, his hands still in the pocket of his hoodie, keeping yours snugly tucked inside. he rocks back on his heels, clearly pleased with himself. 

“let’s not pretend we don’t know what we know.”

“i don’t know much,” you retort, but the small smile tugging at your lips betrays you. “i’m not a nerd—”

“yah! hurry up!” taehyung’s voice booms from a stall across the street, breaking the moment. you glance over to find him waving dramatically, his other arm slung around yoongi, who looks less than thrilled. 

“we found the mandu!” taehyung adds.

“mandu sounds good,” jungkook says as he gives your hands a small squeeze. then, he gently pulls you toward the others. "let's go." 

“stop dragging me around,” you complain, though you don’t actually try to pull away.

“you’re walking too slow.”

but you aren’t. 

you know you aren’t and so does he… but you let him hold your hand anyway.

a week later, jungkook feels like he might piss himself.

he leans against the edge of his desk, scrolling through his phone for the 5th time in as many minutes. his thumb hovers over the screen, debating whether to check his messages again, even though he knows there’s no point. 

you haven’t replied yet.

the fundraiser for marine conservation is tonight, and he’s been pretending it’s no big deal... but fuck.

he was so nervous when he asked you to go with him and now he feels like all his efforts are being wasted.

...

“so, uh,” he starts, his voice a little too casual, “there’s this fundraiser gala thing on friday night. save the dolphins thing—a-and… it’s no big deal but—”

you glance at him, eyebrows raised. 

“yeah? sounds fancy.”

he shrugs, keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead. “i guess it is. it’s a black-tie kind of event… and i, uh… i was thinking... maybe you’d want to come with me?”

you blink, caught off guard by the sudden invite. 

“i hate dolphins.”

“i know.”

you sigh, pretending to be burdened by his request. “but i’ll go. if you want me to.”

“i do want you to.”

“okay.”

“good,” he breathes, glancing over with a lopsided grin that he hopes hides how nervous he actually feels. “you’ll make me look good. people are suckers for pretty dates.”

“oh, so you’re using me as a prop?” you tease, though your lips twitch into a smirk.

“obviously,” he replies smoothly, though his grip on the wheel tightens slightly. “but, hey, it’s a dinner, you get to see my in a tux which is practically dessert—.”

you shake your head, laughing softly. 

“you’re ridiculous.”

“so ridiculous that this can count as our first date?” he presses, glancing over again, this time with a flicker of uncertainty he hopes you don’t catch.

after a beat, you sigh dramatically, turning in your seat to face him. 

“it’s a date.”

just as he’s about to make another comment, you lean over and press a quick kiss to his cheek, catching him completely off guard. his hands freeze on the wheel for half a second before he recovers.

“you missed—”

you laugh and hit his chest. then, he gets out of the car, helps you out, and walks you to your doorstep. 

...

now, as he sits alone in his room, the anticipation bubbling just under his skin, his phone buzzes on the counter. his heart skips for a moment before he grabs it, only to feel it sink as he reads your message.

yn [4:31PM]: nurse said it’s food poisoning  yn [4:32PM]: she gave me some meds to help but i literally feel like shit  yn [4:33PM]: i don’t think i’ll be able to make it tonight, baby :( i’m so sorry nerd [4:34PM]: don’t apologize. i’ll be over in a bit yn [4:35PM]: what ?? no !! get ready for your event. it’s important nerd [4:35PM]: so are u yn [4:36PM]: i’ll survive. go save the dolphins :p

his brows knit together as he reads it again, leaning back into the couch with a frustrated sigh.

he knows he shouldn’t feel disappointed—you can’t control being sick, and it’s not like this event means anything special. 

at least, that’s what he’s been telling himself.

still, he stares at the message for a long moment, debating whether to reply right away or wait a few minutes so he doesn’t seem too eager. his fingers hover over the keyboard before he finally types out a response, keeping it short and light, like he’s unbothered.

nerd [4:40PM]: get some rest. i’ll be telling everyone you ditched me tho  yn [4:41PM]: be sure to let the dolphins know too 🙂

he lets out a chuckle, but the weight in his chest doesn’t go away. 

he tosses his phone onto the coffee table and rakes a hand through his hair, wondering why the idea of showing up without you feels so much worse than he’d expected.

then, his phone buzzes with messages from the fundraiser committee. 

yet, he can only think of you… it’s a sinking feeling in his chest. 

you’re sick. 

the thought of going to that event while you’re home feeling miserable doesn’t sit right with him.

he sighs, grabbing his hoodie and pulling it over his head. he knows this is unprofessional and such an pussy excuse but—forget the event. 

it’s you that matters to him the most right now. 

so, jungkook calls his event and lets them know that something came up. he tosses aside his tux and puts on comfier clothes before heading to the kitchen to make you some chicken noodle soup.

before he heads out, jungkook hears a familiar groan from the living room. he turns, already annoyed, knowing exactly who it is.

jimin and taehyung are stretched out on the couch, looking like they’ve been hit by a truck. 

their faces are pale, eyes glassy with fever, and they groan as they shift under the blanket. it’s obvious they’re just as sick as you, if not worse.

“yo, jungkook,” taehyung calls out, voice nasally, “did you make soup? be a good boy and give us some—” 

jimin, equally pitiful, sits up a little and gives jungkook a pleading look. “yeah, we’re starving, man. plus, you’re not gonna leave us to die alone, right?”

jungkook raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“you won’t die from starvation.”

“how are you so sure?”

“cos i’ll kill you first,” jungkook snorts. “you guys got my girl sick with that stupid omelet you made her.”

the two of them groan in response, sitting up slowly. taehyung rubs his face with his hand. “we didn’t mean to! bro, look at us. you think we wanted this? we’re sick, too, you know.”

“yeah,” jimin adds, “there’s two friends sick here for you to take care of.”

jungkook just looks at them, his gaze hard. 

“who do you think i’m gonna choose right now?”

jimin squints, looking him up and down. “don’t you have that gala tonight?”

jungkook hesitates for a split second, but quickly shakes his head, giving them a dismissive wave. 

“it got canceled.” he lies. 

then, he turns away to head out the door. before he leaves he yells; “i’ll text yoongi hyung to make you some soup. don’t bother me. not coming home tonight.”

about 25 minutes later, jungkook stands in front of your doorway and his gaze falls on you as you open the door.

you're wearing his oversized t-shirt, hair up in a messy bun, and a pair of shorts—looking exhausted and a little pale. his stomach churns with worry, but he keeps his cool as always.

"what are you doing here? the gala..." you trail off, but before he can answer, you quickly turn and rush to the bathroom.

"shit," he mutters under his breath, following you at a steady pace.

when he enters the bathroom, you're already kneeling over the toilet, retching. his heart drops, but he doesn’t flinch. moving to your side, he gently pats your back.

“it was this bad?” he grumbles, a frown pulling at his lips. “why were you downplaying it through text?”

you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, barely acknowledging him.

“i’m fine, seriously. just... just a little nausea.”

“fuck, ___..” he snaps, but his voice isn’t angry, more like exasperated. "this is stupid. you can’t be alone if you can’t even handle standing up to get the door without throwing up. are you fucking serious?." his eyes are narrowing now, the concern clear despite his snappy tone. “what the hell, ___?"

you sit back on the floor, leaning against the wall, your face pale. 

“i already bailed on the date. i couldn’t let you bail on the gala entirely.”

he shoots you a look, incredulous. 

“you think I’d rather be at a gala without you? honestly?”

“i just—"

“shut up,” he interrupts, his voice softer but firm. "you need someone. i’m here. deal with it."

there’s no room for argument in his voice.

you give him a tired smile despite the situation, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. 

“you shouldn’t be here, though.”

“say that again.”

your lips tighten.

then, you gag and rush back to the toilet bowl. jungkook remains by your side, rubbing your back as you deal with another wave of nausea.

the moment is quiet except for the soft sounds of you breathing in between. for a second, it almost feels like everything has stopped, like it’s just the two of you in your small bathroom, nothing else in the world mattering.

after 40 minutes of hovering over the toilet, jungkook gets you settled on the couch.

he brings you water and asks if you’re down for some food. he brought over chicken noodle soup and you need to have something in your stomach before taking your medicine. you simply agree and wait for him to serve you. 

as you eat the soup, he scrolls through netflix and plays something. he talks for most of it and it helps distract you from feeling the full extent of your sickness. after you’ve eaten some of the soup he brought, you ask him to grab the medicine from your bag. 

“can you grab the other medicine bottle from my bag? the one the nurse gave me?”

jungkook, of course, doesn’t hesitate. 

he gets up and finds your bag in your bedroom. he pulls open your bag and begins rummaging through it, looking for the bottle. when his hand brushes against something thick and solid, he pulls out a book titled, “everything you need to know about dolphins a to z.”

his eyebrows furrow for a second as he stares down at it.

he doesn’t know why, but a strange warmth spreads through him. it’s pretty obvious why you have this book—but seeing it in your bag... it makes him pause.

his lips tighten slightly as he puts the book back down in your bag, quickly hiding his reaction. he doesn’t want you to see how much it’s affecting him right now.

when he returns with the medicine, his expression’s back to its usual, nonchalant self. as much as jungkook wants to pretend like he didn’t see it or that seeing it didn’t matter—he can’t. 

to him, it mattered. 

it mattered a lot.

a few days later, you’re sitting across from jungkook in the library. 

the late afternoon sun streaming through the tall windows and casting a golden glow over the table. textbooks and notebooks are scattered between you, his handwriting messier than yours but still oddly charming. you’re mid-sentence, asking him about his opinion on a the newest theory you learned during your lecture when he suddenly tugs off his crewneck, revealing the black t-shirt clinging to his frame underneath.

it’s warm in the library, the kind of cozy heat that sneaks up on you, and he doesn’t think twice about it. 

but you do.

“woah—” you blurt out, your question forgotten as your gaze catches on his arms. you've seen his tattoos before but for some reason... they look different to you now.

they appeal different to you.

jungkook looks up from his notes, brows raised.

“what?”

you blink, trying to refocus, but your eyes betray you, flickering back to the ink winding its way down his arm. 

“your tattoos,” you say, almost dazed. “they’re... really hot.”

“think so?”

“yeah,” you admit. “gets me horny. ”

you then feel the warmth crawl up your neck as the words leave your mouth. you quickly look back down at your notes, hoping the earth might just swallow you whole.

jungkook freezes for a moment, the tips of his ears turning the faintest shade of pink. then he shakes his head, a small, lopsided smile tugging at his lips. it’s not his usual confident grin—it’s softer, like he’s caught off guard but not in a bad way.

he doesn’t say anything, just ducks his head slightly, the corners of his mouth twitching like he’s trying to hold back a laugh.

you try to ignore the way he shifts in his seat, casually stretching his arms behind his head like he’s showing off—not that he’d ever admit it...

for the next two weeks, jungkook suddenly seems allergic to long sleeves. 

he starts showing up in short-sleeved t-shirts, rolling his sleeves higher than necessary when he wears his uniform jacket, and leaning in just a little closer when he knows your gaze will drift.

“you’re shameless,” you mumble one day, catching him flexing—not subtly—while reaching for a book on the top shelf.

“what?” he asks innocently, glancing down at you with those wide eyes that don’t match the smirk tugging at his lips.

you roll your eyes, biting back a grin.

“you’re annoying.”

“why? are you horny?” he says, his voice low enough to make you want to shove him.

you don’t answer, but the way you avoid his gaze—and the small smile tugging at your lips—says enough. he notices, of course, because he always does.

after a few moments of silence, you huff at him.

"is everything you say always so... dirty?"

he shrugs.

"you brought up being horny first..."

"yeah, but—"

"you think i'm dirty?" jungkook interrupts you. "should i shower?"

you scoff at him. before you can say anything, he adds;

"you’d join me though, right?"

a month later, jungkook does it again. 

you find yourself standing in the middle of your apartment—he shows up.

your phone is clutched tightly in your hand as you try to blink away the tears threatening to spill. the call you just had—a frustrating, heart-wrenching argument with your family—leaves you feeling raw and small. the weight of their words presses heavily on your chest, and all you can do is stare blankly at the mess of papers scattered on your desk.

a sharp knock on your door pulls you out of your thoughts. you freeze, wiping at your cheeks hastily, but the door creaks open before you can say anything.

"is that my hoodie?"

"jungkook—"

“you haven't been answering my texts all day,” jungkook says, stepping in without waiting for an invitation. he’s holding a bag of takeout.

"everything okay?"

“i’m fine,” you say, your voice shaky despite your best efforts to sound convincing.

he narrows his eyes at you, placing the takeout and hoodie on your coffee table before crossing his arms.

“yeah, no.”

you try to argue, but he’s already moving, shrugging off his jacket and plopping onto the couch like he owns the place.

“whatever it is, you don’t have to talk about it right now,” he says, pulling out containers of food. “but you do have to eat. and i’m not leaving until you do.”

your throat tightens at his matter-of-fact tone, his presence somehow both comforting and overwhelming. he doesn’t pry, doesn’t demand to know what happened.

“you didn’t have to come,” you murmur, sinking onto the couch beside him.

“yeah, i did,” he replies, handing you a pair of chopsticks. “and don’t even think about pretending you’re not hungry.”

a small, shaky laugh escapes you, the tension in your chest loosening just a little.

“you’re so annoying.”

“friends are supposed to annoy each other. learned that shit from you.”

jungkook’s door swings open with a suddenness that startles him. 

the faint squeak of the hinges cuts through the quiet. he’s mid-motion, towel slung around his neck, tugging a loose white shirt over his head when you stroll in without so much as a knock. he’s also wearing grey sweatpants… 

wet hair, white shirt, and grey sweats? 

the holy trinity.

“you know,” he begins to scold you. “boundaries exist for a reason.”

he shakes his damp hair as you plop onto his bed like it’s yours.

“boundaries?” you scoff, grabbing your plushie. your precious hello kitty plushie. “this is practically my second home.”

he doesn’t argue, just lets out a quiet chuckle as he pulls the hem of his shirt down. 

holding up the plushie like it’s the most precious thing you’ve ever seen. “can i take her home today?”

“sure,” jungkook says, his voice carrying that infuriating mix of teasing confidence and barely veiled challenge. he leans against his desk, arms crossed, watching with a smirk as you clutch the hello kitty plushie tightly to your chest, as if it’s your only lifeline against his charm. 

“can i be your boyfriend today?”

you groan, throwing yourself back onto his bed with a dramatic sigh, the plushie landing on your face. 

“seriously? you’re really holding this poor plushie hostage?”

he laughs, low and amused, pushing off the desk and taking a few steps closer. 

“a deal’s a deal,” he says lightly, but there’s a glint in his eyes as he towers over you. “you can take her home—when you’re my girl.”

you yank the plushie off your face, sitting up sharply. 

“do you think we’re better friends?” you huff, your tone indignant but your heart racing under the weight of his gaze. 

jungkook crouches slightly, leaning in until his face is just a few inches from yours. his smirk softens into something more playful, but the shift in proximity makes your stomach flip. 

“i think so…” he murmurs, his eyes flickering between your face and the plushie pressed against your chest. “aside from me trying to kiss you every chance i get and you being horny every time you see my tattoos—”

you narrow your eyes at him, holding the plushie tighter, as if it’s a shield against the way he’s looking at you. 

“you’re unbelievable.”

“and yet,” he starts, his voice dropping an octave as he moves even closer, one hand bracing on the bed beside your knee, the other reaching out to gently brush his fingers over the plushie’s soft fabric. “here you are.”

his free hand slides around your waist, tugging you just slightly toward him, and your breath hitches. “but if you don’t want her…” he teases, his voice trailing off as his face inches closer to yours. his gaze dips briefly to your lips, and before you can fully process it, he’s leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek.

except you shove hello kitty between you two just in time.

“nope!” you say quickly, holding the plushie up like a barrier, your cheeks flaming as you hear him laugh, the sound vibrating through the air between you.

“seriously?” he says, pulling back just enough to raise an eyebrow, though his grin never falters. his hand stays firm at your waist, his thumb brushing the fabric of your shirt in slow, lazy circles. “you’re really using her to block me?”

“you started it,” you shoot back, glaring at him even as your grip on the plushie tightens.

“fair,” he admits with a chuckle, straightening up slightly but keeping his hold on you. his other hand moves to tap the plushie’s head. “but the deal still stands. not my girlfriend, not your hello kitty.”

“you’re ridiculous.”

he tilts his head, his grin softening, though his hand still lingers at your waist, his warmth impossible to ignore. 

“i don’t know,” he says, his voice quieter now, almost coaxing. “sounds like a pretty good deal to me.”

you glare at him again, this time with less heat, and shove the plushie into his chest.

“you’re insufferable.”

he laughs, taking the plushie from your hands but not letting you go.

“maybe,” he says, “but you’re still here.”

hours later, the room is quiet except for the soft scratch of jungkook’s pen against paper and the occasional shuffle of his chair as he shifts at his desk. you’re curled up on his bed, the hello kitty plushie still clutched against your chest, your breaths slow and steady as sleep overtakes you.

he glances back at you every now and then, a small, unspoken fondness softening his features. when you stir, rubbing your eyes and sitting up, he turns back to his notes, feigning nonchalance.

you pad over to him, your steps muffled against the carpet. without a word, you slip onto his lap, one arm draping lazily over his shoulders as you pluck his glasses from his face.

“good nap?” he asks, his voice a mix of amusement and exasperation as you slide the frames onto your own nose. “those—”

squinting dramatically, you nag him; “ugh, how do you even function with these? everything’s blurry.”

“that’s because they’re prescription, genius,” he says, reaching for them, but you lean back, keeping them out of his reach.

“maybe i’ll keep these,” you tease, poking at the side of his head. “you can’t study without them, can you?”

“give them back, or i’m kicking you off my lap,” he warns, though his hands settle firmly on your waist instead of following through on his threat.

“yeah, sure... because you hate this so much.”

“try me,” he challenges, his grip tightening just slightly as if to prove his point.

“you’re so bossy,” you grumble, sliding the glasses off and placing them haphazardly on his desk. “happy now?”

“ecstatic,” he says dryly, though his lips twitch upward.

you lean closer, your face just inches from his, your playful smirk softening into something quieter, more genuine. 

“you know, you’re really cute when you’re all serious, studious, and grumpy.”

“and you’re kind of annoying when you don’t let me finish studying,” he shoots back, though there’s no real bite to his words.

“fine, fine,” you say, preparing to climb off his lap with exaggerated dramatics. “go be a nerd. i’ll be over there cuddling hello kitty—”

“i could use a 5 minute break.”

you fix your posture, perking up. 

“really?” you tilt your head at him. “i mean… i’d hate to distract you.”

“really?” he mocks you. “you’re sitting on my lap and moving your hips and yet—you’d hate to distract me, huh?”

you nod innocently. then, you shrug and confess;

“i’m bored.”

“what do you want me to do about that? this final is really important—f-fuck. ___, don’t move like that.”

you shift again. 

“like what?”

“you know what you’re—”

“what am i doing?” you ask, leaning your body closer to his. you caress his face and pout at him. “is 5 minutes even considered a break? don’t you need more time?”

“more time for what?” jungkook lowers his gaze at you. 

“i don’t know,” you giggle. “what do you wanna do?”

jungkook can’t take it. 

playing cat and dog or whatever this bullshit is. 

you’re on top of him, prettier than ever. you’re wearing a low-cut tank top with a fucking bow in the middle… and he can’t breathe anything in except you. what is he supposed to do right now? 

“___… if you don’t get off me—”

“if i don’t get off you… what?”

you smile at him softly. shifting again, you drag your hips towards him. his eyes widen. 

“i might cum.”

you pout. “really?”

jungkook swallows. 

“keep moving your hips like that and you’ll find out soon.”

“oh…”

a beat. 

“like this?”

before he knows it, you’re humping him. 

he grunts as he feels himself harden under you. you bite your bottom lip as you drag your hips back and forth. you feel the pressure against your clit as your clothes rub together. 

jungkook hisses at your pace. 

“f-fuck..”

as he bucks his lips, he places his hands on your waist, helping your movement. you let out a few breathy moans and jungkook feels like he could die. 

you’re so pretty. 

his hands tighten around you when he senses that you’re close. 

“am i doing this right? it feels—feels g-good.”

“yeah? feels good, baby?” jungkook breathes.

“mhmm…”

“do you feel my dick?” he asks. “feel how hard it is against your fucking pussy?”

“i do,” you moan. “so big, jungkook. can i take it soon?”

he hisses. 

“promise me,” you whine. “promise me that you’ll fuck me soon.”

jungkook’s breath hitches. 

he was wrong. 

that time he ran his mouth about your virginity being too much or a burden or something—fuck was he wrong. 

it’s not a burden.

it’s the greatest privilege he could ever be given… now to have you like this? begging like that? holy shit is he more than ready to give you anything and everything you want. 

“promise, baby,” he says. “promise it’s gonna be me.”

you nod, happy with his answer. 

and just as you’re about to continue, you take his hands to your tits. first, he squeezes them… then you guide them to the strap of your tank top. taking the cue, jungkook tugs your straps down, revealing your bare tits. 

“___…” he moans. “shit.”

you bring his hands to your tits again, helping him cup them. as you hump him with more intensity, jungkook’s mouth parts. your tits bouncee up and down and it sends shivers down his spine. your tits are so full in his hands and so fucking perfect up close. he lvoes all of it—the shape, the size, the way it feels… so soft. he’s always been an ass type of guy but holy shit—your tits are a game changer for him. 

nevertheless, he tries to focuses on you. 

“bouncy.”

“yeah?” you pant. “you like them?”

jungkook nods pathetically. 

he fights shutting his eyes. he wants to remember all of this. every detail. 

how hard he is right now. how hard your nipples are and how they feel being played in between his fingers. he runs his thumb around them, pressing, squeezing, and tugging… he loves how your moans sound—like they’re music to his ears… he can’t… he can’t picture anything else. he can’t hear anything else. he can’t breathe anything in but you.

“jungkook…” you cry, feeling yourself about to climax.

“s-shit,” he hisses as you begin to whimper. 

the humping is great. 

amazing in fact—but the way you’re whimpering right now? 

fuck.

“jungkook,” you breathe, trying to catch your breath. “a-are you close? mhmmm… f-fuck!” 

you hump him faster and harder. he lets out a few moans before sharply inhaling—

“o-ohh,” jungkook moans. “nghhhh… fuck.”

you grind on him slowly, easing his release. his crotch area is wet, making an obvious stain on his grey sweatpants.

he throws his head back. you lean over and kiss his neck. he bites his lip, attempting to hide his smile. 

a silence fills the room. 

you two are in total disbelief. 

then, you shift and he places his hands on your waist again. 

“did you cum?” 

he lets out a chuckle. “yeah. did you?”

“i think so? i don’t know.”

“sorry,” he sighs, a little disappointed you didn’t get to finish. “do you wanna—”

“it’s fine that i didn’t come. i had fun…”

jungkook shakes his head. “no, it’s okay. i can—”

“can i see?”

jungkook blinks at you. 

“what?”

“you came right?”

“yeah—”

“can i see what your cum looks like?”

some days with jungkook are so easy, it’s almost laughable.

the dynamic feels less like a friendship and more like a game you’re both playing—teasing, flirting, seeing how far you can push before one of you finally gives in.

but then there are days like this.

it’s been two months since the kiss, and the comfort between you has grown in a way that makes everything feel light, almost effortless. you’re more yourself around him, and he’s let down his walls in ways you didn’t even realize were there. 

still, sometimes, you push his buttons just a little too hard.

today is one of those days.

it starts with a series of texts.

your usual banter that, for whatever reason, strikes a nerve.

maybe he’s stressed, or maybe you’re just too good at knowing exactly how to get under his skin. either way, it doesn’t take long before his responses turn clipped, each word laced with an irritation you’re not used to seeing from him.

yn [1:41PM]: C₄₃H₆₆N₁₂O₁₂S₂ nerd [1:48PM]: 😳 yn [1:50PM]: am i speaking ur language  nerd [1:53PM]: fluently, yes yn [1:54PM]: cool. dohwan taught me it  yn [1:55PM]: what does it mean nerd [1:59PM]: not funny. yn [2:00PM]: why am i laughing then seen yn [2:01PM]: aw don’t get all mad nerd [2:08PM]: not mad. jus uninterested in this topic. yn [2:10PM]: i’m sorry seen yn [2:14PM]: sorry :(  yn [2:15PM]: jungkook !!! yn [2:16PM]: wanna make out? typing… nerd [2:21PM]: yes

you don’t mean for it to escalate, but by the time you realize he’s genuinely annoyed, it’s too late to fix it over text. you bite your lip, staring at your phone, debating your next move.

and then, because you’re you, you grab your bag and head straight for his lab.

jungkook’s reputation precedes him on campus.

professors practically gloat about having him in their classes, like his achievements are trophies they get to display. it isn’t just his grades or his research—it’s the way he carries himself. sure, he's a little antisocial but he's focused, driven, and somehow still effortlessly cool.

you always knew he was smart, but seeing him in his element, tucked away in the chemistry lab during his solo hours, is something else entirely.

the lab is a world of its own.

notes scrawled in sharp, precise handwriting cover the workspace, surrounded by neatly labeled vials, bubbling solutions, and meticulous arrangements of equipment.

jungkook stands at the center of it all, wearing a crisp lab coat with the sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal the ink decorating his forearms. protective goggles perch on his nose, and his brows furrow as he scribbles something into a notebook. he’s intimidatingly focused, and for a moment, you hesitate in the doorway.

he notices the movement immediately, his sharp eyes snapping up to meet yours. for a beat, his expression doesn’t change, and your stomach churns with nerves under his scrutinizing gaze.

“what are you doing here?”

“i, uh…” you shift awkwardly, trying to find your footing under his intense stare. “i wanted to check on you. you seemed upset earlier.”

jungkook exhales, a hand dragging through his dark hair, slightly disheveling the strands sticking out under the goggles. his posture stiffens slightly before he stands straighter, folding his arms across his chest. 

“i’m fine,” he says, the words clipped and automatic, like he’s said them a hundred times before.

he doesn’t look at you again after that, instead turning back to the dense notebook in front of him. his pen taps against the edge of the table, a sharp, rhythmic sound that fills the silence between you.

you glance around, taking in the scrawled notes and bubbling glassware, and suddenly, you feel like an intruder.

this isn’t just a workspace; it’s his domain, and you’re a trespasser.

“right,” you whisper. “sorry. i just—”

your words catch as his head snaps up again, this time really looking at you. his dark eyes flick to the way you stand there, hands shoved deep into your jacket pockets, shoulders hunched slightly, and chewing the inside of your cheek.

the tension in his jaw softens, and he exhales again, but this time, it’s quieter, almost resigned. his shoulders relax as he sets the pen down, giving you his full attention now.

“do you want a tour?” he asks, his voice losing some of its earlier sharpness.

you blink at him, caught off guard. 

“really?”

he shrugs, a small, almost reluctant smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“yeah. just… don’t touch anything.”

you hesitate, unsure if this is a genuine offer or just him humoring you. but the way his gaze lingers—softer now, like he’s extending an olive branch—makes you take a small step forward.

“you’re sure?” you ask cautiously, your weight shifting between your feet.

“wouldn’t have offered if i wasn’t,” he says, already turning to gather a few items from the cluttered table.

his words are casual, but there’s something unspoken in the way he says them. it’s as if he’s acknowledging your effort without outright saying it, inviting you into a space you know he doesn’t share lightly.

“okay,” you say softly, stepping closer as he gestures to the setup in front of him.

jungkook guides you through the lab, his hand casually finding its way to the small of your back as he gestures to the next setup. the touch is subtle but grounding, the heat of his palm against your waist sending a quick flutter of awareness through you. his fingers rest there, steady, as he moves you along with a quiet confidence, his focus more on the equipment than the way your heart picks up its pace.

“this is my catalytic synthesis project,” he starts, motioning to the crowded workspace. his tone is calmer now, almost instructional as if falling into the rhythm of explaining makes it easier to let his guard down.

as he starts detailing his work, his body language shifts. his shoulders loosen, and the furrow in his brow disappears as he picks up a flask of pale yellow liquid. his hand moves with precise confidence, holding it up to the light as if to showcase his work.

“what does that even mean?” you ask, leaning in closer to inspect the array of equipment.

“it’s about creating biodiesel,” he explains, holding up a sheet of paper covered in equations and diagrams. “basically, i’m optimizing the reaction process to make it more efficient. fewer byproducts, higher yield.”

you blink, squinting at the equations like they might magically make sense. 

“that’s cool… i think. but how do you even do that?”

he chuckles, the sound low and surprisingly soft. 

“this,” he says, holding the flask again. “this is the feedstock. it’s like the base oil we start with. i mix it with methanol and a catalyst—”

“wait,” you interrupt, raising a hand. “what’s a catalyst?”

his lips twitch into a small grin, clearly amused by your cluelessness. 

“a catalyst is a substance that speeds up a chemical reaction without being consumed in the process.”

you nod as if you understand, but the tilt of your head gives you away.

jungkook sets the flask down and leans a hip against the table, crossing his arms loosely. “okay, think of it like this. imagine you’re cooking something. the catalyst is like the pan—it doesn’t get eaten, but it helps everything cook faster.”

“ohhh,” you say, the metaphor finally clicking. “why didn’t you just say that from the start?”

he raises an eyebrow, biting back a grin. “because i thought you were smart enough to keep up.”

“wow,” you deadpan, crossing your arms. “i come here to check on you, and this is the thanks i get?”

he shakes his head, a quiet laugh escaping him as he nudges your shoulder lightly with his. “first of all, you annoyed me. second of all, you’re the one who wanted a tour. i’m just giving you the full experience.”

“oh, sorry—” you let out a shallow laugh. “should i leave then—”

jungkook shakes his head and points to another setup—a small beaker bubbling over a hot plate. 

“look! this is the reaction in progress. that bubbling? that’s the methanol reacting with the oil. and over there,” he gestures to a series of tubes and a larger flask, “that’s where i separate the biodiesel from the glycerol. basically, the good stuff from the leftovers.”

you narrow your eyes at the apparatus. “this still sounds like you’re making moonshine.”

jungkook snorts, shaking his head. “i’m not making moonshine.”

“sure,” you mutter, your lips curving into a teasing smile. “that’s what someone making moonshine would say.”

he rolls his eyes, but the faint smile pulling at his lips betrays him. 

“you’re really annoying today.”

“you like me, though,” you shoot back, leaning against the table with newfound confidence.

jungkook pauses, his gaze lingering on you for just a moment too long. his lips part, and you catch a flicker of something in his expression—something softer, almost vulnerable.

“yeah,” he says quietly, almost under his breath, before turning back to his work. “i guess i do.”

as you lean over a neighboring table to inspect a beaker filled with an ominous-looking solution, your elbow bumps against it, sending it teetering dangerously close to the edge. the moment stretches out, everything moving in slow motion.

his words catch you off guard.

what did he just say?

holy—

“shit!” you yelp, reaching out instinctively to steady it. but before you can, the beaker tips over completely, the sulfuric acid inside spilling onto the floor—and dangerously close to your feet.

jungkook moves faster than you expect, his hand darting out to grab your arm as he yanks you backward with enough force to make you stumble into his chest. the acid splashes onto his hand as it hits the ground, and the sharp crack of shattering glass fills the room.

he flinches, a quiet hiss slipping through his teeth as he pulls his hand back.

“oh my god, jungkook!” you gasp, panic knotting your stomach. his hand lingers briefly on your arm before he steps away, already moving toward the nearest sink.

“stay there,” he orders, his voice clipped but steady, as he flips on the cold water and thrusts his hand under the stream.

your eyes are locked on his injured hand, where faint discoloration is already starting to show.

“are you okay? does it hurt?” you ask, your voice shaky.

“it’s fine,” he says tightly, jaw clenched as the water rushes over his skin. “are you okay? nothing got on you, right?”

you take a step closer, your gaze flicking between his face and his hand. he looks calm—too calm—but the way his lips press into a thin line tells you otherwise.

“no. nothing got on me… jungkook,” you say softly, guilt and worry twisting in your chest. “i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean to—”

“don’t,” he cuts you off, shaking his head as he grabs a paper towel to dry his hand. his voice isn’t harsh, but there’s an edge to it, like he’s holding something back. “this is why i don’t give tours.”

you wince, the weight of his words making you shrink slightly. “i—i’ll make it up to you,” you blurt, your voice desperate to fix this. “whatever you want.”

he glances at you then, finally letting out a soft, exasperated laugh. his expression softens, the corners of his lips twitching into a faint smirk. 

“you’re giving me that much power?”

“jungkook,” you warn, narrowing your eyes, but your voice wavers. you’re still too focused on his hand, your own tightening into fists at your sides. “this is serious. do you want to go to nurse or hospital or something—”

“relax baby,” he says, his tone lighter now as he flexes his fingers experimentally. “it’s not that bad. really. it was just sulfuric acid.”

“acid—”

“stop,” jungkook sighs. “seriously. it’s okay.”

“you shouldn’t have done that though,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. 

he shakes his head, smiling faintly—half amused, half surprised by your concern. 

“what, and let you burn yourself instead?”

a beat.

"i'm dating a klutz," he chuckles, the words slipping out so naturally it takes you both a second to realize what he’s just said. his eyes widen slightly, but instead of backpedaling, "guess i should get used to you fucking my shit up, right?"

your chest tightens.

dating?

jungkook clears his throat. 

“don't over think it," jungkook grumbles.

"jungkook—"

he doesn’t let you finish, his jaw tightening.

“___, what are you doing here if you don’t think we’re dating?”

“what does that even mean?” you fire back, crossing your arms defensively. “you can’t just say shit like that and expect me not to overthink it.”

“then maybe don’t think so much,” he mutters under his breath. "you're good at that anyway."

“don’t think?!” you huff incredulously, stepping closer. “jungkook, you’re impossible.”

he glares at you, setting down the equipment with a loud clink. “and you’re confusing. one second, we’re fine, and the next, you’re acting like—”

“acting like what?”

“like you don’t want this.”

the tension doesn’t ease as you both leave the lab. 

he grabs his bag, muttering something about not wanting to talk here, and before you can argue, he’s already halfway down the corridor. you jog to keep up with his long strides, half-annoyed, half-confused, as he leads you across campus.

the walk is silent, save for the occasional rustle of leaves or the faint chatter of students in the distance. his jaw is tight, his shoulders stiff, and you can tell he’s barely holding himself together.

“jungkook...” you try, your voice softer this time, but he doesn’t respond, doesn’t even glance back.

by the time you reach his place, your confusion has morphed into frustration. 

he unlocks the door without a word, stepping inside and leaving it open for you to follow.

you hesitate for a moment, then step in, the familiar scent of his space wrapping around you. before you can say anything, he drops his bag on the floor and turns to you, his expression unreadable.

“sit,” he orders, pointing to his bed.

your brows knit together.

“i’m not a dog,” you snap, but the weight in his tone makes you obey anyway. you sit at the edge of his bed, crossing your arms and glaring up at him.

he exhales sharply, running a hand through his already messy hair. his pacing starts then, a restless back-and-forth motion across the small room. the air feels heavy, thick with unspoken words and the lingering tension from earlier.

“okay,” he starts, his voice low and strained. “let’s just… get this out in the open.”

you raise a brow, waiting for him to elaborate, but he doesn’t. instead, he keeps pacing, his hand dragging down his face as if he’s trying to physically pull the words out of himself.

“get what out in the open?” you prod, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “jungkook, what’s your deal? one second you’re fine, and the next—”

“fine?” he cuts you off, his tone sharper now. he stops pacing to face you, his hands planted on his hips. “you think i’m fine?”

you blink, taken aback.

“well, no, obviously not. but you’re also not making any sense—”

“you want to talk about making sense?” he scoffs, a bitter laugh escaping him. “you’re the one who’s impossible, you know that? one minute you’re here, acting like we’re—like this is something, and the next you’re…”

“the next i’m what?” you challenge, standing now. “go ahead, say it.”

jungkook looks at your sternly. then, he gives you his heart.

“i can’t keep doing this, ___. i need to know—are you in or are you out? because i get the whole wanting to make me miserable part. i get it. i’ve been awful to you. i’ve put words in your mouth and i’ve said shit that i can’t take back… but i’m trying. it feels like you aren’t.”

the weight of his words crashes over you, leaving you rooted in place. you want to respond, to say something, but the lump in your throat won’t budge.

he steps closer, his eyes searching yours.

“just… tell me what you want. because if you don’t want me, i need to know now.”

the silence stretches between you, thick and suffocating. you feel his gaze burning into you, his desperation palpable.

“i don’t know how to have you,” you say, your voice breaking slightly.

his shoulders drop, and for the first time since this started, he looks less angry and more… hurt.

“what do you mean?” he asks, his tone gentler now.

“i don’t know,” you breathe. “i’ve never… gone this far. guys give up after the chase… you’re… you’re still here. what happens now? sex?”

he shrugs. "is that all you want?"

"no."

"then no."

silence.

“___, i'm here. i've come this far and i want to go further. sex or not---whatever,” he says, taking another step closer, his hand reaching out to lightly brush against your arm. “is that what scares you?”

you nod.

“am i… am i supposed to just—” your chest tightens, and the room feels too small, too charged. his words hang in the air, and you know there’s no going back after this. “i don’t know—”

“why are you here, ___?”

“you asked me that already.” you retort.

“yeah, and you didn’t answer,” he shoots back.

you sigh, exasperated. “i’m here because—i don’t know… you’re my friend, okay? or whatever.”

his laugh is sharp and humorless. “friend. right.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“it means i don’t want to be your friend,” he says plainly, his eyes burning into yours. “i haven’t wanted that for a while now.”

your breath catches. “jungkook—”

he steps closer, and for a moment, you think he might kiss you. but he stops just short, his voice low and rough. 

“i want you to stop pretending like there’s nothing here. i want you to stop running every time i get close.”

you open your mouth to argue, but the words catch in your throat.

“again, if you don’t want this—me—then tell me,” he continues, his voice softening. “but don’t keep showing up, acting like i don’t drive you as crazy as you drive me. don’t… please, don’t make me feel stupid.”

the room feels too small, the air too thick.

jungkook’s hand lingers on your arm, his touch grounding even as your heart races wildly. his dark eyes search yours, flickering with emotions you can’t fully decipher—hurt, hope, frustration.

“you don’t have to know everything right now,” he says softly, his voice carrying a steadiness that contrasts with the storm raging between you. “i’m not asking for perfect, ___. i’m not even asking for easy. i just…” he exhales shakily, the vulnerability in his tone cutting through your defenses. ���i just need to know you’re willing to try.”

your throat tightens, his words hitting you in a place you’ve tried so hard to ignore. the thought of trying—of letting yourself fall completely, with no safety net—terrifies you. but the thought of him walking away? it’s unbearable.

“i want you,” you whisper, the fear laced in your voice so raw it feels like you’ve just exposed every guarded corner of yourself. “i want you, jungkook.”

his fingers trail down your arm, stopping just above your wrist. 

“say it again,” he says, his tone almost exasperated, but not unkind. “please?”

you bite your lip, the weight of his words pressing down on you. everything about this moment feels pivotal, like a single word could either shatter or rebuild everything between you.

“i want you, jungkook,” you admit, your voice trembling but resolute. “i… i want us.”

his expression softens, relief washing over his features like a tidal wave.

“good,” he murmurs, stepping closer, so close that his scent—clean, familiar, entirely jungkook—invades your senses. then, his hands come up, gently cradling your face as he tilts your chin up to meet his gaze.

“i… i want us too. i think it’s all i ever really wanted. to be yours…”

his thumbs stroke your cheeks, and before you can overthink it, he leans in, pressing his forehead against yours. the tension in the room shifts, softening but no less charged.

“does this mean i get to take hello kitty home today?” you whisper, your voice barely audible. 

“who said you’re going home tonight?” he says, a small, lopsided smile tugging at his lips. 

and then he kisses you.

you and jungkook have been dating for 6 months when you suddenly say; "happy 6 months, baby! wanna have sex?"

jungkook practically jolts out of his bed and takes the plushie. he places it on his desk and turns hello kitty over to face the wall. (no, you haven't taken it home. for some reason, it suits being in jungkook's room better than yours).

you laugh as he turns back to you and says;

"good timing, ___. i'm ovulating."

jungkook can't breathe.

… and you? you never expected it to feel this way. 

the thrill of it… the intensity—the intimacy. 

as jungkook towers over you, he pulls his shirt over his head. the minute his chest is bare, your hands find your way to roam around his body. his abs, his biceps, and down his—

“wait,” jungkook pleads, eyes hungrily looking into yours. “wanna take this slow with you. wanna do it right for you.”

you nod slowly, understanding what he means. 

the truth is; your virginity is your virginity.

there isn’t much to it aside from that the fact that it’s not taken. you were never wronged but you were also never pursued right… sure, it’s special… but it isn’t everything. 

jungkook treats it like it is though. 

you don’t mind. 

for the past 6 months, he's been really careful with how he acts around you sexually. sure, a few pussy eating moments and heated make outs have been happening... but not the full thing. actually, you've never really seen jungkook's dick yet.

he refuses to let you give him a blowjob.

said something about how easy it is for him to cum at the thought of you—he isn't ready to embarrass himself in front of you just yet.

but today, at your 6 month mark, it's different.

jungkook can't hold it in anymore and you showed up extra pretty. you planned this, didn't you?

(yes.)

gently, he helps you undress.

he takes your shirt off for you and takes a deep breath when you arch your back for him to unclasp your bra. nervously, he does so. then, he tosses your bra aside and takes in the view. 

the prettiest fucking tits he’s ever seen. 

jungkook reaches, cupping and squeezing your boobs. you watch him as he does so, unsure of what to do. 

he then lowers himself, placing kisses over your tits and down your stomach. positioning himself more comfortably, he finds himself in between your legs. lifting them up, he takes your pants off… then, his eyes flicker from you to your panties. 

his fingers play with the hem of your panties. then, he scrunches them together, tugging them up so your folds are exposed. 

“fuck,” jungkook groans. “so pretty…”

“yeah?” 

“yeah,” he breathes, watching your pussy begin to swell. “think your kitty can be good for me? think you can be patient? that’s it… good kitty.”

you tilt your chin down to look at him. 

he’s licking his lips, lowering himself down to your pussy. 

“be a good kitty, okay?” he says, as he begins to massage your pussy with his hands. your panties are still on so the friction of the fabric make you a little annoyed. 

aren’t you having sex soon?

shoudn’t this shit be off be now?

“jungkook—”

“i know, baby,” jungkook pouts at you. “i know it’s hard to wait… look at your pussy… so wet and your panties aren’t even off.”

you whimper. “please, jungkook… take them off.”

“you want me to?”

“yes,” you huff. “want you to take my panties off.”

he nods slowly… as if he’s thinking about something—considering something.

then, he decides to give in. 

jungkook tugs your panties down entirely, leaving your pussy out in the open. he throws his head back in admiration. it’s like he’s been hit by cupid or something.

without warning, he buries his face inside. 

jungkook begins with a couple licks and spreading your folds a part. his tongue brushes against your clit—up, down, side to side—everywhere. god, you feel him everywhere. after a few licking and sucking moments, he pulls away and rubs his thumb against your clit. he spits on your pussy—letting his saliva drool down slowly. 

you watch. 

“you like that, baby? you like when i spit in your pussy?”

tongue-tied, you nod obediently. 

he grins before giving in again. 

jungkook eats you up, devouring every inch of your pussy. before you know it, he’s shoving a finger inside you as he sucks on your clit. you almost yelp at the sensation—a feeling completely new to you. 

“ohhh… yeah… f-feels so good, jungkook…” you moan, throwing your head back. 

honestly, the added finger burns. 

but he’s gentle with it. he moves his finger inside you with lots of intentions. he gradually shoves it in deeper and deeper too.. it just… it feels good. 

so good. 

you throw your head back and grab a fist full of his hair. 

“uh, uhhhh… mhmfffph—” you moan. “ohhh…. f-fuck…”

jungkook looks up and watches the way your lips twitch. how your body reacts to him eating you out… and it all just boosts his ego. 

he’s so glad to be here. 

jungkook then pulls away, taking his tongue out of the equation. he focuses on fingering you, making sure you’re enjoying the way it feels. you two catch each others gaze and continue to look into each others eyes. 

as jungkook picks up the pace fingering you, you bite your lip and love the way his eyebrows furrow in concentration. 

“f-fuck,” you utter. “i’m gonna—o-ohhh!”

you cum on his fingers. 

jungkook pulls them out, taking your cum and spreading it around your folds. he massages it in like lube before taking his fingers to his mouth. 

he tastes you. 

then, before you can catch your breath, jungkook leans down and kisses you. 

he kisses you deeply. 

when he pulls away, you ask; “c-can we…”

jungkook chuckles. 

“soon,” he assures you, tucking your hair behind your ear. he presses his lips against your cheek. 

then, his lips find yours with a hesitance that feels almost reverent, like he’s afraid to ruin something sacred. and then, slowly, he deepens the kiss—tentative at first, but with a growing confidence that feels utterly jungkook.

it’s the kind of kiss that feels like discovery. like he’s studying every angle, every curve, every reaction, cataloging them in his mind like a scholar with his favorite subject. his hands hold you as if you’re delicate but unshakable all at once, his thumbs brushing tenderly against your jawline.

when he tilts his head, changing the angle, it’s with a deliberate slowness, as though he’s savoring the moment, pulling apart the layers of this kiss to commit it to memory. you can feel the way his lips curve faintly against yours, like he’s smiling, like he’s finding joy in every second of this new experiment.

and you realize—he’s not just kissing you. 

he’s learning you.

nerd.

you gasp when he pulls you closer, your arms instinctively wrapping around his body. his lips part slightly, and the way he kisses you now feels like a question, like he’s asking for something without saying a word.

he’s meticulous, like he wants to explore every inch of you through this kiss, leaving no detail untouched. the way he holds you is tender but firm, grounding you while setting your pulse on fire.

when he finally pulls back, his breathing is uneven, his forehead pressing lightly against yours. his eyes flutter open, and they’re soft, full of something you can’t quite name but feel all the same.

“i want you forever,” he murmurs, his voice low and thick with awe, as though he’s just unraveled the world’s most beautiful equation. 

you giggle at him. “great. can we start now?”

“way to kill the mood—”

“please, for the love of god!” you squirm. “fuck me already.”

jungkook can’t help but laugh. 

but he gives in. 

jungkook shifts out of his pants, revealing his hard cock. 

you stare at it.

it's pretty.

it's thick all around and his tip looks like it's angry. you like the way it looks though... looks delicious. his cock has you completely mesmerized. you almost want to crawl to it but he saves you the journey as he brings it close to you. 

truth be told, jungkook's a little nervous.. he doesn't want to fuck this up.

“you know…” he begins, as he jerks himself off in front of you. “i want to be mean. like, really fucking mean. i want to make you beg. i want to make you choke on my fucking cock and have you scream my name but—fuck, ___… i look at you and i can’t…. i can’t even do all i want with our fucking foreplay because i fold so easily when it comes to you. you want me to fuck you? fine. i’ll fuck you.”

“be mean,” you whimper. “come on. don’t be a pussy. just because this is my first time—f-fuck! holy shit, jungkook—”

jungkook has slowly puts his cock inside you. 

you gasp for air. 

he caresses your face as you adjust to him being inside you. then, he drags his tongue around your neck. he sucks on it a bit, causing you to grip the sheets.

“o-oh my… j-jungkook…”

“you okay, baby?” he asks, slightly moving himself in deeper. 

you take a deep breath and exhale from your mouth. “f-fuck…”

he’s so big. 

you can feel every curve of his dick and vein. when his tip entered, it felt funny. like, uncomfortable but also really fucking good. as he begins to thrust in and out, you breathe through the sharpness of his movement. 

“hurts…” you confess. 

jungkook shifts, and kisses your neck. against your skin, he murmurs; “i’m sorry, baby… do you want me to—”

“no,” you tell him, as you open your legs wider. you wrap yourself around him and hold on tight. “think… think i’m okay. can you move more?”

jungkook nods and kisses you once more. 

he begins to fuck you.

slowly but surely… he begins to drill himself into you. 

missionary isn’t his favourite but having you this way… especially for your first time? god, did he love this. as you dig your nails into his back, you whimper every time he thrusts back inside you. 

“f-fuck,” you moan. “jungkook… it’s…”

“what?” he almost panics. “a-are you okay?”

“yeah,” you breathe. “it feels good now… can you… go harder?”

jungkook hisses, feeling like he could lose his mind. 

“can we switch position?” he pitches.

you agree.

jungkook then pulls out of you, and you suddenly feel the emptiness. he goes on his knees and takes you by your waist, guiding you to turn over and go on all fours. 

doggy. 

jungkook helps you position yourself before angling himself. he licks his hand and spreads your entrance. he then guides his dick inside you. as he begins to thrust, you suddenly feel him reach around and start to rub your clit…

and oh my god. 

does it feel heavenly. 

“oh,” you hum. “feels so good.”

jungkook leans over, and kisses your shoulder. as he pulls away, he takes his other hand and grabs a fistfull of your hair. he pulls your hair back and you moan at the tightness. 

“you like that, my little bitch?” he grunts as he fucks you. 

he feels your pussy clench. then, he smriks. 

“oh? you like being called a little bitch, huh?” jungkook then takes his hand off your clit and uses it to slap your ass. "my fucking cockslut. always so fucking horny but you're just a little dirty minded virgin, right? not anymore, okay? i'm taking it. taking all your sticky fucking cum. you're all mine, baby. you know that, right? you're mine, bitch."

smack. 

your pussy tightens around his cock again. 

smack. 

you moan his name. 

“jungkook…”

he inshales shaprly and moves both hands and grabs your waist. he pulls you into him with each trust, adding more intensity. 

jungkook fucks you harder and harder and you can’t help but love the way it feels. you moan his name, whimpering pleads like; “please… please, fuck me harder.” you can’t help it… it’s the way that his hard cock feels inside you that make you say shit like that. it’s the way that his hands roam around your body and you feel him everywhere… because he is everywhere. 

his mind goes dizzy. 

he goes blank actually. 

then, when you reach back and wrap your arms around the back of your thighs—jungkook feels like he might lose it. 

how do you know how to move like that?

god, you’re so hot. 

“mhmm. that’s it…. fucking me so good, nerd.”

then, jungkook loses it. 

like… really. 

he fucks you harder and harder until you’re whimpering his name and almost near tears. he doesn’t realize how hard he’s fucking you until you’re near climax—

“i’m cumming!” you cry. 

it happens so fast. 

suddenly, you cum and you lose your balance. 

jungkook helps you lay down properly. he gets on top, continuing to fuck you in missionary. as you catch your breath, you feel him hiss against your skin. 

“fuck.”

just then, jungkook pulls out. 

as he jerks himself off, you tug on his hand and pout at him. he tilts his head, a little confused but quickly catches on. 

a few seconds later, jungkook is straddles your face. 

he places his dick inside you mouth and you focus on licking the tip of his dick. you do it softly, not adding much pressure. it sends shivers down his spine… then, you use the topside of oyur tongue to add more stimulation. you dig your face deep, licking his balls a little. 

he moans. 

then, you suck him off. slow but so fucking intense. 

jungkook can’t take it. he places one hand on the back of your head and helps control how deep you take him. 

his dick reaches the back of your throat and it’s fucking toe-curling for jungkook. you take him in so good. as you suck him off, he can’t help but not last long. 

“ahh–aahhhh.. f-fuck—” jungkook moans deeply. “nghhh.... fuck, ___! holy fucking shit...”

jungkook pulls out seconds later and cums all over your face.

as his cum drips down your face, you catch it with your finger and look at it. 

“ohh,” you pant. “that’s what cum looks like…”

jungkook rolls his eyes at you before dipping his head low and kissing you. you two laugh as you pull away, completely in disbelief of everything that had just happened.

1 month later...

“you’re such a bad boyfriend,” you say, crossing your arms dramatically as you sit on the couch, watching jungkook fiddle with the back of your laptop.

he pauses, turning his head slowly to look at you over his shoulder. his glasses are sliding down his nose, his hair is a bit messy from pushing it back so many times, and he looks entirely unimpressed.

“bad boyfriend?” he repeats, sounding genuinely offended. “you asked me to fix your laptop. i'm a chem major, not tech.”

“smart boyfriends are supposed to be well rounded."

he glares at you. "again. you asked me to fix your laptop. i'm doing my best, baby."

"yeah, but like... i asked you over an hour ago,” you tease, leaning back and pretending to sigh. “you’ve been ignoring me ever since.”

“ignoring you?” he scoffs, turning back to the tangled mess of wires. “i’m literally upgrading your RAM so you can stop complaining about how slow it is. if anything, i’m the best boyfriend.”

you hum thoughtfully, pretending to consider it. “debatable. the best boyfriend wouldn’t make me sit here in silence while he nerds out over motherboards or whatever.”

“okay, first of all,” he says, setting the screwdriver down and turning to you fully now, “it’s not ‘whatever.’ this is your motherboard’s lifeline. without it, you don’t get to binge your little dramas.”

“so you’re saying you’re not doing this for me—you’re doing it for the laptop?”

“i’m doing it so you don’t keep stealing my ipad to ‘watch just one more episode’ and kill my battery in two hours,” he fires back, but there’s a little smirk tugging at the corner of his lips now.

you tilt your head, grinning. “i think you just proved my point.”

“fine,” he says, pulling his glasses off and tossing them onto the table. “what do i have to do to reclaim my best boyfriend title, huh? flowers? chocolates? fixing this annoying laptop isn’t enough?”

“hmm,” you pretend to think. “i’d say… maybe you stop being a nerd for five minutes and come cuddle me instead.”

he rolls his eyes but moves toward you anyway, tugging you into his lap without hesitation.

“there,” he says, wrapping his arms around you as you snuggle into his chest. “am i forgiven, or do i need to sit in front of a claw machine and lose $200 again?”

“hmm,” you hum, grinning as you tap your chin. “hello kitty does look a little lonely. but maybe she deserves a friend when you really screw up.”

“you’re planning for that?” he asks, incredulous.

“not planning,” you tease, shrugging. “just preparing. i’ve already picked cinnamon roll for when you really drop the ball.”

he stares at you for a long moment, narrowing his eyes. “you know, this feels like extortion. i bet you mess with me on purpose just to stock up on plushies.”

“maybe,” you say sweetly, poking his cheek. “but you can’t prove it.”

he sighs, leaning his head back against the couch dramatically. “great. i’m dating a scam artist.”

“you’re dating a genius,” you correct, grinning.

“genius or not,” he counters, tightening his hold on you, “you’re stuck with me.”

you tilt your head up to look at him, biting back a laugh at the slight pout on his lips.

“wow, jungkook, that’s so nerdy of you.”

he groans, letting his head fall against your shoulder.

“i’m never fixing your laptop again. let me know when you need help naming all the isomers of butanol—"

"baby, did you hear that?"

"hear what?"

"you put the dolphins to sleep. good job! yay, your marine conservation bullshit finally came in handy—"

"wanna break up?"

"meanie."

"you're mean."

"sure, let's break up," you tell him. "how about never?"

"never?" jungkook asks, tucking your hair behind your ears. "sounds good."

you glance at him, a playful smirk tugging at your lips.

"it's you, me, and the fucking dolphins forever, nerd."

[saintsenara]

For unhinged and deranged ships: Snape/Bellatrix.

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

i adore these two haters, and not just in a "toxic situationship which leaves dozens dead" way.

because - as the most delusional snapemort defender in history, who would also defend bellamort with my life - i think it's inherently plausible that snape spends his period as a death eater during the first war feeling profoundly jealous of bellatrix.

after all, she's the dark lord's favourite - and voldemort isn't exactly shy about this being known [she wouldn't run around yapping about he "calls me his most loyal, his most faithful" if she had even the slightest feeling that voldemort would murder her for leaking his pillow talk] - which means that, if you go in for the idea that he's sleeping with her, i think you can argue that he also permits her some degree of public physical affection. i don't think they're holding hands during acts of terrorism, or anything like that, but i do think that bellatrix is summoned away from group settings to join voldemort, everyone knows what they're about to get up to, and the dark lord doesn't care.

snape - in contrast - is kept as a pretty clandestine part of voldemort's operation. karkaroff can't think of anything specific to credibly accuse him of, sirius isn't fully convinced he could have been a death eater, and so on.

and this makes sense - it's clear that snape gets taken on by voldemort in a back-of-house role [to be a spy he can eventually place at hogwarts, and very probably originally to brew for him], and is peripheral to the more public-facing, combat side of voldemort's terror. which means that any time he spends with the dark lord is probably one-on-one - and any affection he receives from voldemort during these sessions [and look, i ship it...] is similarly private.

but it's also clear in canon that this order only continues for a few months after bellatrix gets out of azkaban, before things start to shift and she finds herself having to be the jealous one.

from the start of half-blood prince onwards, snape usurps bellatrix in voldemort's public favour [no matter what he's like with either in private]. and we know that she's not thrilled about this - not least because she's correctly worked out that snape's not trustworthy and voldemort's only response is to tell her to wind her neck in.

and we also know that snape fucking loves how annoyed she is - he's having the time of his life roasting her when she cockblocks narcissa by stomping around his front room [the line about "endless reminiscences of how unpleasant azkaban is"... a third-degree burn, i fear] - and that all of snape's best pairings feature that "we literally cannot stop hurling insults at each other, i will not rest until i've told them this next zinger, i am incapable of letting anything go" dynamic.

textbook enemies-to-enemies-who-fuck.

where this turns into enemies-to-lovers... is that both snape and bellatrix are clearly profoundly lonely people. and not only that, but profoundly lonely in strikingly similar ways - above all in that they're in love with someone who doesn't want them in the way they'd like to be wanted. i don't think bellatrix loses anything of her character - her cruelty, her temper, her resilience - if we also imagine her as a bit of a hopeless romantic [her joy at voldemort complimenting her - "no higher pleasure... that means a great deal, bellatrix, coming from you" - which vanishes when he turns it into an insult is but one example] who would jump at the chance to be mrs riddle. snape's unrequited love is well known.

neither of them seem to have friendships in which they're the priority - snape is close to lucius malfoy, but the relationship is nonetheless transactional; bellatrix clearly adores her sister, but she's secondary in narcissa's concerns to her husband and son. they live their lives in service to men who regard it as their duty to sacrifice themselves for their cause - snape with dumbledore, who may like him, but who also thinks of him primarily as a tool to bring about voldemort's defeat; bellatrix with voldemort, who considers her to have done the bare minimum in terms of loyalty to him by enduring fourteen years in azkaban [even though he also thinks this places her above all her fellow death eaters, who didn't even do that]. they both have experience of imprisonment - snape metaphorically, trapped in the school he doesn't seem to have particularly enjoyed and the childhood home he thought he'd escaped; bellatrix literally. they're both voldemort's exceptions in terms of the demographics of the death eaters - snape on account of his social class; bellatrix on account of her gender - which means that they depend entirely on maintaining the dark lord's goodwill and are peripheral to the elite male social group which makes up the rest of the inner circle.

and these similarities mean that they have a pretty high chance of being able to understand each other, comfort each other, and help each other move beyond their isolation...

until voldemort gets jealous, that is.

[blueberri-blu]

hello hello!! <3 Might I perhaps ask for some rise don/reader after the events of the movie? I rewatched it recently and woof. comfort fic needed. maybe he's staying with his partner while the lair's being patched up and they're struggling to get him to part with his battle shell for bed time? or something to that effect. -@boybeholding

Squealing, twirling my hair, kicking my feet! Thank you so much for the request! I absolutely love this idea!! ♡⁠(⁠˃͈⁠ ⁠દ⁠ ⁠˂͈⁠ ⁠༶⁠ ⁠)

Of course you may!! I re-watched the movie and, I sobbed, with snot coming out of my nose and everything (⁠っ⁠˘̩⁠╭⁠╮⁠˘̩⁠)⁠っ

Flood after the Storm ｡⁠:ﾟ

As Donnie moved many of his things to your place, you allowed him to set up his lab in the living room/spare bedroom. Most of the day was spent moving and cleaning. Cleaning the lair, seeing how to repair it, and moving things from the lair to their temporary homes.

｡⁠:ﾟ｡⁠:ﾟ｡⁠:ﾟ｡⁠:ﾟ｡⁠:ﾟ｡⁠:ﾟ｡⁠:ﾟ｡⁠:ﾟ｡⁠:ﾟ｡⁠:ﾟ｡⁠:ﾟ｡⁠:ﾟ｡⁠:ﾟ｡⁠:ﾟ｡⁠:ﾟ｡⁠:ﾟ｡⁠:ﾟ｡⁠:ﾟ｡⁠:ﾟ

The battle left everyone with scars. Raph and Leo beat themselves up over almost not being able to protect their brothers, Mikey seemed to try to cheer everyone up, even though he was the one who needed it. Yet your turtle seemed to act as if nothing happened. You'll admit, he was a bit more emotionally expressive but, other than that, he didn't seem to acknowledge it at all. Due to the lair being... Well not in its best shape, Between you, April, and Cassandra, the turtles split up into y'all's places. Donnie, being your genius boyfriend, obviously stayed with you, and his brothers decided they stay with April or Cassandra, to give you and Donnie alone time.

As you and Donnie finally settled in for the night, you could tell Donnie was in deep thought as he unpacked. You decided to just stay near him, giving him space while still letting him know you're there for him. But as your eyelids felt heavier and heavier, you decided to talk to him. "Hey, don...?" "Yes, my dear?" He said all too quickly. "How are you feeling?" "Well, I must admit, my brothers have yet to give me their opinions on my rescue pods, however I do believe they were extremely satisfied, so I'll be working on them tonight so they're reusable". You knew that gathering data helped him calm down (as he made this very well known during the Krang invasion), so you decided to help him collect data from his brothers and April. Once his spreadsheet of opinions was done, you told him that it would be better if he worked on them tomorrow, as his brain would function much better after a good night's rest. "Grumble... I suppose you are correct" he said with narrow eyes. As you finished your nightly routine, you realized Donnie was in bed... With his battle shell still on. You decided that maybe you'd let him leave it on for a couple days, knowing how vulnerable he felt without it during the battle.

That was 2 months ago. Now, you struggled to get him to bed, he was upgrading the escape pods, making armour for his brothers, and trying to upgrade his battle shell. You also noticed he would randomly check Leo's location, and text or call him to check in. You knew it was going to take a good amount of time for him to settle down, but he was still going to bed with his battle shell on.

You had finally had enough, as much as you tried, you couldn't get him to open up to you. Although he was more open to giving you affection, calling you by pet names such as Love, Dear, Mon Amor, and Mi Amor, he refused to talk about the invasion. So that night, as you laid in bed, waiting for Donnie, you thought of a plan. With a newfound confidence, you marched up to Donnie in his makeshift lab, and started to cry.

Donnie was immediately pulled from his work, and ran to you, frantically asking you what was wrong. And you started to talk to him about how the invasion affected you. How you had night terrors, often waking up just to check in on him and make sure he was alive, how you went into fight mode whenever you heard loud noises, and how you desperately wanted to help him.

After you let your feelings out, and calmed down, you looked at Donnie, and told him that most of all, you were worried about him. That you understood that he was acting this way because of what happened, and that you would wait for him to open up, but most of all, that you wanted to help him get better, you wanted him to get better. After hearing this, Donnie realized that he'd been repressing everything that happened, and, due to you opening up to him, he realized you probably felt alone and scared. So, your show of trust comforted him enough to open up to you.

He told you everything, how he was scared for Raph's life, how he felt helpless and vulnerable without his battle shell, and how he felt like a horrible brother for not being able to save Mikey and him from being crushed, and most importantly, just how soul crushing it was to think Leo had died. In that moment, he opened his heart out to you, and you held him gently, while holding him tightly, rubbing his arms, rocking him, and crying along with him.

By the end of it, you and him were wet with tears, trembling from how vulnerable you two were to each other. Once you two calmed down enough, you hugged each other as you walked to your bedroom. Once you sat on the bed, you gently rubbed Donnie's shoulder, quietly asking if you could take his battle shell off. He was hesitant, but nodded. You took his battle shell off, along with his shoulder and knee pads, and finally his mask.

You both laid on your bed, his head on your chest, your beating heart bringing comfort. You laid like this the entire night. Your newfound trust for each other only strengthened with time, as you both grew, you healed from old scars, and as new ones appeared, you worked through them, together.

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I really hope you liked it! I tried my best to keep it in character! I loved this request!! Was definitely needed after the events of the movie, thank you so much for the ask!! I love it when you guys send them! Anyway, hope you are all doing well, I love y'all <3

[ghostinthelibrarywrites]

I Am Flesh and I Am Bone (I've Got Fire in My Soul)

My belated Halloween fic is finally posted! Thank you to the marvelous @arisprite for the beautiful artwork they created for this fic, which you can find here, and all the help with brainstorming! You can read the first couple of scenes below or the whole thing here on AO3!

Rating: T

Words: 12K

Warnings: none

Relationships: Payneland with background Palasaki

Summary: On Halloween, when the veil is thinnest between the living and the dead, ghosts are at their most corporeal—and their most vulnerable. When Charles, Crystal, and Niko go to a masquerade and walk into terrible danger, Edwin has no choice but to leave the safety of their warded office to save them.

Excerpt:

“And this is why I have never cared for parties,” Edwin says as he helps Niko up the stairs to the office. She’s leaning against him heavily, looking almost as tired as she did while recovering from the spell that nearly killed her in Port Townsend. She lost her butterfly mask at some point during the evening.

“Soul sucking witches are why you’ve never cared for parties?” There’s no real bite in Crystal’s voice; she looks almost as exhausted as Niko, with her head lolled against Charles’s shoulder. He’s practically carrying her.

“Among other things.” Edwin shudders. “I will say, it was better than some of the dinner parties my parents forced me to attend.”

“Everyone was unconscious by the time you got there, mate,” Charles says.

“Precisely,” Edwin says. “I, for one, do not think I’ll be attending another one anytime soon.”

“It was pretty aces until the soul sucking started.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Edwin is very much not taking his word for it. “I could have told you, Charles, nothing good ever happens on Halloween.”

***

Five days ago

Charles doesn’t realize how close they are to Halloween until he’s walking Crystal and Niko back to the agency’s office, a step ahead of the girls, when he hears a surprised shriek behind him. He whirls around to find Crystal suspended in mid-air, hanging upside down, the coffee she just bought at the shop down the road staining her pale blue blazer and dripping down her face into her hair.

She glares furiously at Charles, blinking coffee out of her eyes. “What the actual fuck, Charles?”

“Oi, why do you assume I did that?” Charles puts his hands up in surrender as Niko starts dabbing at her girlfriend’s cheek ineffectually with a napkin. “Edwin, I think your protection wards work a little too well, mate!”

Edwin’s head appears through the door. When he sees Crystal’s predicament, he sighs. “One moment, please.” He vanishes back into the office.

“Take your time!” Crystal calls after him. “I’ll just be here, showing my ass to the entire hallway.”

“It’s a nice ass,” Niko says helpfully.

Charles politely averts his eyes from the ass in question, focusing instead of the growing puddle of iced coffee on the ground. “No other offices on this floor, mate, so the only people who can see anything are me and Niko.”

“Charles, you’re not helping.”

There’s a hissing sound in the air, like air being released from a tire, and Charles catches Crystal around the waist right before the wards release her. He lowers her to the ground carefully, flipping her over to set her down on her feet. She smooths down the skirt of her uniform, glowering down at her stained blazer and blouse.

With an apologetic smile, Charles opens the door to show the girls into the office. On the other side of the door, Edwin stands with his hands clasped behind his back, looking only slightly sheepish.

Crystal jabs a finger at him. “You owe me a coffee.”

“You really should consume less caffeine,” he tells her. “It will stunt your growth and you’re already considerably shorter than average.”

That earns him the expected hand gesture, which he seems unfazed by.

“What are the added wards for, mate?” Charles goes to press a kiss to his partner’s cheek. He doesn’t think they’ve made any enemies lately. Their last few cases have been almost painfully routine. He hasn’t had to hit anyone with his cricket bat in months.

“I ran some errands while you were out,” Edwin says, cheeks going a little pink at the PDA, as mild as it was. “When I attempted to return home, instead of mirror-walking back to the office, I ended up in the real estate office downstairs. I gave one of the realtors quite a fright, I’m afraid. I don’t believe she could see me, per se, but she certainly knew she wasn’t alone.”

Charles groans. “Bollocks. What day is it?”

“October 26th.” Niko looks between them. “What does that have to do with the wards?”

“Are you afraid the realtor’s going to call an exorcist?” Crystal asks in a tone that suggests she may help out said exorcist.

Charles shakes his head as he slings an arm around Edwin’s shoulders. “It means it’s almost Halloween. Snuck up on us this year, didn’t it, mate? Suppose we’ve had a bit going on.”

Crystal and Niko both stare at him blankly and he remembers that even though it feels like they’ve been part of the Dead Boy Detectives for ages, it’s been less than a year since Port Townsend. There’s still so much that they don’t know.

“Halloween, or Samhain, is the day where the veil between the living and the dead is at its thinnest,” Edwin says in what Charles privately thinks of as his posh professor voice. “We often see all manner of ridiculousness on that day. Seances, arcane rituals—”

“Long story short.” Charles squeezes Edwin’s shoulder, because as much as he loves his posh professor voice, Crystal is looking increasingly murderous. “Veil being thin means that things are a bit screwy for ghosts around Halloween. Mirror travel doesn’t work, for one. Most people can see us, for another.”

Edwin nods. “Precisely. On Halloween, ghosts experience the closest thing to corporeality that we’re capable of. It makes us vulnerable to far more things than iron and cat scratches. Hence, the wards. My apologies, Crystal. I forgot to make an exception for you so you could pass through untouched.”

“I notice Niko was able to get through with no problem,” Crystal says.

Edwin clears his throat and straightens his bow tie.

“This is awesome!” Niko claps her hands together, eyes shining. “If people can see you, does that mean you can go out and actually interact with people?”

Charles grins at her enthusiasm. “Yeah, it’s brills, isn’t it? It’s almost like being alive again. We can’t eat or sleep or anything, because we’re still ghosts, but we’re a bit more part of the living world. We can feel it when people touch us. We can even smell a bit, right, Edwin? Which isn’t always so brills. Couple of Halloweens ago, all the sewage pipes in the building got backed up. That was a tough one.”

“So what do you normally do on Halloween?” Niko bounces up and down on her toes, like her body can’t contain so much excitement.

“Depends on the year.” Charles shrugs. “Usually, I find a party or a club, go dancing, meet some new people, find a—”

He breaks off, because he was about to say “find a fit girl to snog,” but he’s not about to say that in front of Edwin. It’s only been a few months since Charles pulled Edwin close at the end of a long, harrowing case and kissed him. They’re still figuring out this new aspect of their relationship, feeling each other out (in more ways than one.) They’re taking things slow, but it’s been pretty aces so far. Charles isn’t about to wreck it by bringing up all the girls he used to snog.

“And I layer the office in wards and settle down for the evening with a good book,” Edwin says.

Crystal and Niko turn to him, aghast. “You get one day of being corporeal a year and you spend it hiding in the office?” Crystal demands. “Of course you do.”

“Corporeality means we can be observed and touched, which means we can be harmed.” Edwin sniffs. “I don’t begrudge Charles his evening of revelry, but I prefer to stay where I know I won’t be hit by a bus. I don’t believe we can die again on Samhain, but I will not risk it.”

Crystal opens her mouth, but Charles catches her eye and shakes his head. He and Edwin had this conversation many times in their first few years of friendship. It took Charles a while to realize that his version of having fun—going out and meeting people, flirting with girls, experiencing new things—wasn’t exactly Edwin’s version of hell, but was the closest thing the mortal plane could provide. He doesn’t get Edwin’s insistence on locking himself away every Halloween, but he’s sure Edwin is just as bewildered by Charles always going out.

But this year, Charles has better plans than going to a party and meeting pretty girls. He’s been waiting for months to find out just how soft and warm Edwin’s mouth really is. Ghosts have their own type of physical sensation, so kissing Edwin is always aces, but on Halloween, it will be the closest they’ll ever get to being two flesh and blood boys snogging on the couch. He might even be able to give Edwin a hickey. Charles can’t wait.

A bloodcurdling shriek from the hallway distracts him from imagining kissing his way down Edwin’s throat.

“Oh no.” Niko’s eyes go wide. “Edwin, did you put the wards back up?”

Edwin huffs. “Of course I did. There’s no such thing as being too careful around Halloween.”

“Edwin Payne!” a Scottish-accented voice bellows. “What on earth is the meaning of this?”

***

Four days ago

“I have an idea!”

Edwin has approximately a fifty perfect success rate with Niko Sasaki’s idea. When it comes to detective work, she has shockingly astute instincts for one so young and so new to the world of the supernatural. She’s also quite good at finding books and cartoons that Edwin would enjoy, even if some of them are downright scandalous. However, the last time she said, “I have an idea!” in that tone of voice, she spent a quarter of an hour trying to convince Edwin to manifest himself a mustache.

With great trepidation, Edwin looks up from his report on their latest case. “Yes, Niko?”

She beams down at him. Crystal stands with her arm around her, smirking, which worries Edwin even more. “We should go to a Halloween party.”

Edwin has been expecting this ever since their discussion about Samhain yesterday. “I would rather return to Hell. Not the Dollhouse, but perhaps Limbo.”

“Let’s not joke about that, yeah?” Charles calls from the other side of the office, where he’s sorting the infinite backpack, a process that would be much quicker if he would ever let Edwin inventory the contents.

“But no, this is a party I think you’ll like,” Niko says. “It’s in a new club that used to be an old factory.”

“Niko, you enjoy horror films,” Edwin says. “You should know better.”

“And it’s a masquerade!”

Edwin blinks, confused at her obvious excitement.

“You know, you wear masks, so no one can tell who each other is,” Niko says. “It’s super romantic. You can be dancing with someone and they could turn out to be your mortal enemy.”

“Do you have a mortal enemy, Niko?” Charles asks, amused.

“Mrs. Schafer, my Lit teacher at Gray Wake,” Niko says. “She said manga was for people who can’t read real books.”

Edwin is going to find this Mrs. Schafer and haunt her until the day she dies. “I like to see my enemies coming, so I would prefer them not to be masked.”

Niko sticks her lower lip out in a pout and turns to Crystal. “You’ll come with me, won’t you?”

“And see you in a pretty costume? Of course.” Crystal looks over her shoulder at Charles. “You in, Charles?”

Charles puts down what looks like a half-eaten sandwich—why he has a sandwich in his bag, Edwin can only imagine—and turns to them. “I don’t know. Don’t think it’s Edwin’s scene.”

“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t go,” Edwin says quickly. He’s been worried about this ever since this… thing between them began this past summer. He and Charles both learned much about themselves in Port Townsend. Edwin learned that he could finally put words to the desires he’d been suppressing his whole existence without burning up in shame, that the way he felt could be right and good. Charles learned how desperately he aches to still be part of the living world, to experience the life that was stolen from him so cruelly. Edwin doesn’t want Charles to give up the one day a year he can interact with the world just because Edwin would rather not.

Edwin still doesn’t know exactly what they’re doing. The physical aspect of it is better than he ever could have imagined. He didn’t know he could feel as good as Charles makes him feel on a regular basis. But Edwin still isn’t sure what it all means and he fears asking, lest he upset the delicate balance between them. He knows that Charles loves him, that he’s the one person in the universe Charles Rowland would walk into Hell for. But he doesn’t know if Charles is in love with him, or if he’s just enjoying the novelty of being intimate with someone whose touch he can actually feel.

All Edwin knows is that he doesn’t want it to end. And if he holds Charles back from a night of fun with Niko and Crystal, he fears it’s only a matter of time before Charles starts resenting Edwin’s wallflower tendencies. After all, tolerating an antisocial best friend is one thing; having a romantic partner that walls himself up in their office rather than face the living world is another. Edwin couldn’t blame Charles for growing tired of that.

“I don’t know, mate.” Charles looks doubtful. “I was thinking we could stay in. Maybe you could read one of Niko’s mangas to me.”

That sounds like the best Halloween that Edwin can imagine, but he’s sure it’s not what Charles really wants. “No, I insist. I don’t expect you to pass up an opportunity to go to a party just because I’d rather not. Besides, some peace and quiet will be a welcome change.” For show, he casts a pointed look at Crystal, even though they all know he’s come to accept the additional members of the Dead Boy Detective Agency, even the Night Nurse.

“If you’re sure that’s what you want,” Charles says cheerfully, turning back to his backpack. For a moment, Edwin thinks he detects a hint of strain in the cheer, but then Charles starts whistling as he pulls a garden spade out of his bag.

“You should go enjoy your masquerade,” Edwin says, instead of asking Charles to stay. “But if you’re going to dance with your greatest enemy, I do hope you bring your bag of tricks.”

***

You can find the rest on AO3!

[laviechuchu]

Omfgffggff I js found u through the nerd guy fic and I'm obsessed!!!

Ik we are all not so sane here so,,,

If I can request a silly rebellious reader and stepdad punishing the reader for hanging out with good for nothing guy friends with skimpy outfits

:3 Thanks!!! ( You don't need to do ... this is straight up crazy ik lol )

Author’s note: AHH HELLOOO IM SO HAPPY!!! AND OFC SORRY FOR MAKING YOU WAIT!

Content below: use of y/n, AFAB reader, brat taming, punishment, use of nicknames such as babygirl, pet, cheating?, stepcest, minor writing smut, bratty reader, cigars, reader is 18+, dubcon.

Proceed to read..

“Ugh i told you, pick me up tomorrow. My stepdad is coming and i wanna act long enough so i can take some money from him. Then you and cain and me can have some fun! You bring the alcohol!” You giggle as you lay down in your very pink and girly room. The teddy bear your stepfather gave you for your birthday just slumping onto your pillows

You giggle as your best friend starts to ramble about how fun tomorrow will be and starts to ask the real questions “your stepdad is hot! Not gonna lie, i mean! Hes a silver fox!” She squeals as you gag “yuck no! Live with him for a day and you’ll see how controlling and bossy he is” you mumble.

The laptop was still on video call as you roll around on your bed. You sigh as suddenly you hear a doorbell “shit! Be right back!” You yell and slam your laptop closed.

Your feet scramble to the door and open the wood separating you and your money machine.

“Daddy! Welcome home” you giggle and hug him. Ugh disgusting…he smells like his cologne and smoke. He looks at you with disinterest and lets out a low hum. His eyes looking at your perked nipples from your lack of bra.

“Have you been studying? As i told you? I gave you two weeks” he says, pulling away from the hug. What the fuck? Does he have a stick up his ass or something?

Oh yeah about that “ah… yup!” You say with a lopsided grin, batting your eyelashes at the older man. He seems to see right through you but you dont really care, all you need is a few hours and his money and then you can meet your friends-

“Yeah? Ill be testing you tonight.” He says bluntly and starts to head to the kitchen to get dinner for himself.

“Well… im heading out cain and nicole” you say, a little more happily then you mean to. He takes out a cigar and looks at you dead in the eyes. “No.” He states bluntly “wearing a skirt that short? Thigh highs? And what is this..” he comes closer to you your chest almost just almost reaching his. He pinches at your left nipple “a flimsy piece of cloth, that you little ones call a top.”

You yelp and cover your chest “why the hell were you looking?”

“Im your father, and you are not going out like that, with your so called boyfriend who only wants you for your body” he states. Grabbing the back of your top like a cat would.

He goes to his office and throws you on the chair and locks the door

“Question one, look at the fucking paper. A, B, C or D?” He loosens his tie and undoes his pants. Sitting you on his lap “the faster you finish the faster ill let you go” he says putting his cigar down.

“Fuck! I dont know? B?” You say, you feel something warm against your cunt. You unconsciously grind on the feeling “bad girl” he says as he pulls your panties aside and shoves the tip inside. You feel the slight burn and you tear up. Sick motherfucker is gonna rape you?

He grabs your waist and shoves everything inside in one go. No lube no nothing. Just raw fucking cock.

You yell and cry “fuck you! You sick piece of shit” you attempt to get off his lap when he pushes you on your chest. His heavy balls against your clit.

“Its okay babygirl.. you dont need to use your smooth brain anymore” he whispers in your ear. Slowly moving in and out of you “you can be my personal pet from now on” his fingers gently rubbing circles on your clit. You moan gently, your eyes tearing up at the smell of your stepdad the one you used to love but now.. you’re not sure anymore

“Daddy…d-daddy” you mumble dumbly, his cock slipping in and out of you. Your feet barely touch the floor “im sorry baby, this is your punishment” he says before his pace becomes faster and faster. You squeal and try to hold on to him. Your pussy squelches and pulses. Your ass connecting to his hips.

“D-daddy!” You cry. The swirls on your clit becoming faster yet precise “becoming a dumb little girl already? Poor thing… must have been so pent up” he coos, your brain is turning into mush as your legs shake from the pounding. Your cunny fluttering around him, be groans “ah fuck…”

His hand that was once on your clit, now on your nipple. Tweaking them just painful enough for you to keep your sanity in check. “Need a new piercing on your nipples now. Maybe my initials?” He teases.

“I-im gonna cum” you manage to mumble out. The wet skin slapping is making your brain fuzzy “daddy.. i need your cum” you say your tongue lolling out, awaiting his tongue.

He smirks at your now dumb form and gives a few more thrusts but pulls out at the last second.

“Maybe after you get the questions right” he says his gentle smile making you feel warmer.

(SORRY THIS IS BAD ILL WORK ON IT BETTER SOON ENOUGH, I WAS MEANT TO PUT THIS IS DRAFTS BUT ACCIDENTALLY POSTED IT)