#the grip he has on me is embarrassing whew

[harmonysanreads]

Happy Birthday...!

feat. vampire!alhaitham

cw(s) : two dorks being too adorable, smitten alhaitham

wc : 1.4k

Every so often, Alhaitham could be found in profound contemplation in the study of his imposing mansion. Books strewn about, some half open and some in piles beside his chair and utop his desk—though the material of his perusal remains hard to deduce.

An amateur mistake would entail that Alhaitham wasn't in deep thought at all, but in a slumber and that could be credible, if you were to disregard his species' characteristics altogether. Though Alhaitham assumes a relaxed position, his senses are never in the same state of inertia. His ears pick up on tip-toeing footsteps, the vibrations registering as familiar in his sharp mind. These playful tricks could fool any ordinary human, not a vampire capable of catching the pressure applied in those pattering sounds.

He knows it's you, can predict you have a surprise in your hands and can envision the playful smile that must undoubtedly be stretching across your lips. But he does not move an inch, does not give any indication that he's aware. Alhaitham is not known for frivolity and neither would he be inclined to encourage such behavior if this was anyone else. Perhaps every action of an intellectual appears to bear some motive to the audience, or simply the intention is interpreted.

Nevertheless, Alhaitham continues to act his part, giving all the reactions you expect. Appearing to be startled when your arms wrap around his neck but before he has the chance to respond, you swivel in front of him after pressing a chaste kiss under his jaw. Turquoise eyes widen, for that he didn't see coming. He can only thank that blood never rushes to coat his skin pink as you stand in all your giddiness before him and dear vampire lords, are you the brightest.

“Happy birthday!”

The vampire blinks, vacillating between your expectant expression and at the ‘gift’ you eagerly present to him.

Ah, so that's the occasion. Alhaitham has always thought that humans were a bit too passionate about celebrating the day they were born. Such customs are not performed among his kin, for a vampire's ‘birthday’ is just a bitter reminder of their eternal damnation. But, you don't know that. Tied to your mortal sentimentalities and well wishes ; he knows of your sole and innocent wish to make him happy.

So, he carefully takes the wrapped object in one hand and grasps your outstretched palm in the other, gently guiding you to his lap. His unbeating heart swells when you follow him without the slightest hesitation.

“Thank you, what is the gift?”

“No no, you aren't supposed to ask me that, Haitham! You have to open it yourself.”

You chide him with a raised finger and one of his brows quirks up. He's still not yet accustomed to every nuance of human behavior but, for you, he continues learning.

“Apologies, let me correct myself then.”

Alhaitham undoes the ribbon and wrapping paper, putting them aside to feel the coolness of the ceramic mug on his hand. Orange pupils squint to capture the details, turquoise painting and the words ‘best vampire’ boldly printed in black in the mug's body.

“Do you like it?” your hopeful tone snaps him out of his inspection. If this had been even fifty years ago, he wouldn't have stopped a confused frown from showing. Or, if the object had been handed by someone else, he wouldn't have considered it anything less than a joke.

“I...yes, I do like it. I wasn't aware that I was the ‘best vampire’ in your eyes. But then again, have you met other ones?” Alhaitham asks smoothly, feigning indifference to the sardonic prospect that you might have.

“Not at all! But you know the stories of vampires everyone tells, they're usually so scary, mean and selfish. You're none of those, you're intelligent, calm and have the softest heart—which is why, you're the best.”

Alhaitham appraises your confident answer with a humorful look, surely you must not think he's like this with everyone else? But, he doesn't correct you at all, feeling almost inebriated by your heartfelt words. It's also a bonus that his ego swells, he's still like any other man in some aspects.

“You know, I actually wanted to add a mosquito and bat sticker to the mug.”

That yanks Alhaitham out of his bliss.

“A.. mosquito?”

“Yes..? Aren't you essentially an overgrown mosquito? You know, both of you rely on blood to survive?” you question innocuously, shifting in his lap nonchalantly.

Alhaitham's jaw slackens, not knowing whether to be offended or amused. If this was inquired of any other vampire, you would not be able to get a second sentence out. But, he identifies this as a lack of knowledge and decides informing you would be best.

“That is a grave misconception. Because only female mosquitoes drink blood, during the time they bear eggs, more precisely.”

Your mouth forms an ‘o’ shape in understanding, quickly morphing to a sheepish expression. “I’m really sorry…”

Alhaitham waves it off, pausing when he remembers something, “You also mentioned a bat sticker, why?”

This time you look up at him in barely restrained excitement, “I've wanted to ask this for the longest time! You can transform into a bat, right?”

“No, I can't.” your shoulders slump slightly.

“Then.. will you turn to ash if you come into contact with sunlight?”

“While prolonged exposure to sunlight can kill a vampire, we've evolved to be able to withstand marginal exposition. It's not as deadly as the movies portray it.” your expression falls but he notices some semblances of relief. Huh, were you worried for him?

You try again, “W-well, will you die if you eat garlic?”

“Garlic makes me allergic. Its scent is pungent and irritating. Not much different than human allergies.”

This time, Alhaitham doesn't bother masking his amusement at your pout, “Was everything I've known about vampires a lie?”

One of the first traits Alhaitham had noticed about you was your curious nature and eagerness to learn new things. You'd always be on the lookout for an opportunity to ask him questions regarding his vampire roots in particular, preferably when you deemed he was in a good mood. Most of the time though, you opted to make your own observations. It seemed both of you were the most interesting creature on Teyvat in each other's eyes.

The vampire puts the ceramic mug aside on the table, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours. He tilts up your downcast face with a finger beneath your chin, “It's not your fault that human media portray vampires in that particular light and weave these stereotypes. You know only what you've been shown.”

Ashen locks tickle your skin, “You’re not mad at me..?”

“Not at all.” how could he ever be upset with you?

Alhaitham sighs in relief when your smile returns in full force, turquoise eyes slowly shift to your neck, the pulse there beating with the essence of your psyche. A frown marrs his impeccable features as a thought passes by his mind. Humans cherish every year of their lifespan due to the limitation of it. They're fragile, susceptible to the whims of time. But instead of lamenting their inevitable end, they choose to celebrate and foster the memories acquired within their short lives. He's not subjected to the same laws, the shadow of death will not fall upon him as a result of old age.

He'd pondered about this mortality but never worried about those subjected to it. However, as he feels the warmth of your body envelop his cold one and cradles this vessel of the purest soul he's encountered — he can't stop a bolt of paranoia from racing down his spine. What would he do if he could never hold you again like this?

His thoughts are interrupted when he feels your arms around his shoulders again, your warmth presses against him. For a moment, Alhaitham stays still and stunned, all his senses focusing on your proximity, your scent and the beating of your heart. You don't say anything more, letting all your reassurance seep through that sweet embrace. A canopy of serenity drapes over the vampire and he returns your hug to imbibe these feelings deep in his soul.

His hand brushes along your back a few times before coming to a halt, “[ Name ],”

“Yes?” your hum tickles the skin of his shoulder.

“Are you wearing my shirt?”

A beat of silence passes, Alhaitham was so caught up in the flurry of events that he completely missed the white shirt hanging loosely on your figure. Albeit, he's anything but irritated at this revelation, you could take his entire wardrobe and he'd thank you.

“Teehee~”

Alhaitham places a reverent kiss on your pulse, smiling as your mischievous giggle reaches his ear.

Just for this moment, he supposes he can forget the rules and restrictions of this wretched world and indulge in your presence.

[more vampire!alhaitham content]

[sjneater]

✧˖°.— SAVE A HORSE, RIDE A COWBOY

⟡ pairing: boothill x fem!reader ⟡ cw: NSFW! riding, dacryphilia (??), petnames; darlin cutie, real fluffy at the end ⟡ word count: 1.4k ⟡ authors note: WHEW. i’ve been waiting for this man to be playable since his first leak i cannot believe he’s real ANYWAYS! GOODLUCK ON UR BOOTHILL PULLS!!!! also this got REALLL self indulgent towards the end forgive me jfhfghhn (p.s this was written before it was revealed boothill can’t swear but I refuse to write a fic where I have to using ‘fudging’ sorry boothill nation 💀)

“Mmf- fuck…darlin’ slow down” Boothill groans as he looks up at you with a rosy flush decorating his skin and unshed tears clinging to his eyelashes, you continue to grind onto his cock at a pace that has his head rolling back in his chair the cold metallic joints of his fingers caressing the skin of your thighs. 

At least he has some human reaction you muse to yourself.

“What? Can’t take it?” you drawl each syllable of your words out in time with your walls taking him deeper. “That’s a shame… Are you gonna make me do all the work?” You plant your hands onto the smooth surface of his chest trailing your fingers down the metal ridges of his abs and then landing them on his waist. 

Boothill releases a shuddering breath against your neck another reminder of the very human effect you are having on him. “Don’t tease me, m’ not gonna last” he whines into the underside of your jaw using the sharp edges of his teeth to suck and mark the skin there. 

The heat of the room is swiftly increasing with the way he laps at the skin of your neck like a man dying of thirst and your hips continuing to meet his in a steady rhythm. The wet sounds of your kisses and his deep moans fill the air but you can’t find the energy to care about how loud you both are being. 

A devious idea forms in your mind and through the haze of your lust, you manage to run your fingertips along the rim of the slits lacing the area of his hips and the effect is almost instant.  

“Haah! F-fuck!” He hisses into your mouth his back involuntarily arching into your body, the cold chill of his metal coating against your flesh causes you to shiver. “You tryin’ to kill me cutie?” His hand comes up to rest on your waist as he forces you to grind against him, the ridges and groves of his cock causing you to gasp into his mouth which he swallows with a kiss. 

You huff out a laugh as you try to compose yourself with the feeling of his cold length inside of you. “Are you actually gonna fuck me properly now…” You move your body across his and place your head underneath his jaw. “Or do I need to find someone else to do it…” 

Each syllable of your words tickles the skin of his ear causing a full body shiver to course throughout his frame. The rough plated surface of his hands grip the flesh of your thighs and you know you’ve won when you see the grey of his irises overtaken by that signature red glow. 

The sharp metal of his fingers dig into your skin as grips your sides and pulls you off his cock, the obscene squelch it makes causes a rush of heat to travel through your body and you find yourself not being able to meet his eyes. 

“Don’t tell me that you’re embarrassed now.” He breathes the words into your neck before grinding you against the tip of his cock, the sensation causing you to lull your head back letting out a gasp of pleasure. He chuckles at your reaction still rubbing himself against you. “Where’d all that talk from earlier go hmm?” 

Your response dies on your tongue as he lets go of your waist letting gravity slam you onto his cock, his full length now nestled inside you, he reaches so deep you swear you can feel him in your lungs, the ridges of his cock against your walls causing you to pant into his shoulder. 

“You’re not gonna find anyone else though are you darlin?” His words are strained and laced with desire, clearly you aren’t the only one effected. 

Those possessive hands found their way back to your thighs as he almost fully withdraws from your heat before slamming back in, steadily creating a rhythm. “You’re mine to fuck, to use yeah?” His thrusts are forceful inside you, the jagged metal of his digits digging into your flesh as he forces you to meet his pace, your moans echo around the room melding into the other sounds of the squelching wetness and the dull sound of flesh against metal. 

“Are you gonna come just from this?” His voice has a distinct teasing lilt to it a fact that you would normally despise but you don’t have to brain space to care. You nod fervently, lewd moans still being punched out from your lungs with every snap of his hips. The force is so much that you find yourself gripping onto Boothill’s shoulders and you are fairly sure if there was flesh there you would have left marks across his skin. 

“Go on and come for me darlin’.” He commands with a gravelly voice still slamming into you at a in-human pace, your lewd moans still echoing around the room. 

Tears begin to form and cling to your eyelashes before running their path down your cheek and as they do you feel a familiar metallic finger on your face wiping them away and placing delicate kisses underneath your eyes. The way Boothill contrasts his rough and forceful thrusts inside you with the tender care and attention he lavishes your face in has you shivering and hiding your face into his shoulder kissing the skin there, the part you know he can feel. 

Boothill maintains the rhythm you have built up until that familiar coil in your stomach tightens and tightens and you start stuttering on top of him, a gasp is pulled out of you “I’m- close I’m-“ you repeat your words bordering on delirium from the pleasure. 

“Come on my darlin, let me make you feel good.” Boothill wraps his arms around your back forcefully rolling his hips upwards into the spot that has you gasping for air, you feel yourself drawing closer and closer to that edge, eyes wet from the onslaught of pleasure. 

“I’m gonna- I’m coming ah!” Your voice is hoarse and shrill as stars dance across your vision. 

“That’s it, that’s a good girl”. His voice dropped into a lower octave as he spoke into your ear causing a full body shiver to rack throughout your frame, the biting cold of his metallic fingers causes goosebumps to reveal themselves on your skin as you huff a laugh at his digits drawing nonsensical shapes into the skin there. 

He places a chaste kiss on the top of your head drawing his hands back up to cup your cheeks rubbing soothing circles into your flesh. You glance up at his face and notice he still has a soft blush clinging to his features, the lighting of the room giving him an almost ethereal glow. 

“Was it… good for you?” You ask him apprehensively tucking your face into his neck. Realistically speaking you know this is a foolish question, your partner will never be able to feel anything as pleasurable as you do and that knowledge has you with a gaping gnawing hole at the bottom of your chest and an all encompassing numbness in your throat. 

As if he could read your self deprecating thoughts his hand is pulling you from underneath his neck to stare him directly in his eyes. “Hey no more of this, anythin’ we do together feels like heaven darlin’ so don’t worry your pretty lil head of yours.” He punctuates his statement by sealing his lips on top of yours, his hands threading through your hair pulling you closer. 

“I may not be able to feel everythin’ but what I can feel… is pretty damn good” he whispers reverently into the skin of your neck using the sharp edges of his teeth to mark and tease the skin there. 

When he’s decided he has sufficiently marked you he leans backwards in his chair and the fact that you two are still connected becomes very much apparent as the ridges of his cock bump against your walls causing a breathy moan to escape your mouth and you don’t even need to look down to know a smirk is decorating his lips. 

You get up to remove yourself from him but a firm grip to your waist has you placed firmly in his lap. 

“Let’s just stay like this darlin’” he rumbles as he continues drawing shapes into your skin, the soft timbre of his voice has you melting under his touches. You find it increasingly harder to keep your eyes open as he showers you with affection and he seems to notice your internal struggle as a low and husky chuckle reverberates through his body. “Get some sleep for me now yeah?” He whispers against your temple before placing a delicate kiss there. 

“Mm, if you don’t clean me up while I’m out I’ll kill you.” You half-heartedly slap at his chest earning you another husky giggle. 

“Of course darlin’ of course”. 

[ronearoundblindly]

I discovered your blog by chance. Please add me to your list of Hideout tags, tell me that the continuation is coming soon ��🥹🧡

Hello! Added ✅

So sorry that it's taking me this long to update Hideout 🥲🥴 but please enjoy this snippet while I get my sh*t together...

*Warning for suggestive language only but whew, Steve's a warning unto himself... WC 280

You are not purposefully sexy today. The flowing dress and sandals were easy for the temperature and the tasks you had; they’re functional and leave you…accessible.

The thought makes you clench, his fingers finding your bare ankle this time, and sweet blazes, is it even possible for such a simple touch to send you into subspace?

You swallow heavily when his whole hand grips the exposed top of your foot, almost like he knows you need grounding before he makes his next move.

Nothing could quite prepare you.

Steve drags both his palms up your calves and pushes your skirt to lay above your knees, leaning a gentle kiss to the inside of your left knee.

Involuntarily, your thighs tense together and a full-body shudder wracks its way through you.

He can’t see your face from beneath the counter, but there’s no mistaking the physical reaction below your waist or the thud of your elbows onto the wood for balance.

Steve repeats on your right knee, his beard brushing your tender skin as he presses a little harder, a little closer, and the chirp of a mewl escaping you is absolutely, terrifically pathetic.

No, there’s no one else around, but this is not a private space either. The phone is within arm’s reach, an unlocked door is ten feet in front of you, and there’s twenty-five feet of nearly panoramic windows lining three walls of the lobby. You’re exposed even when he isn’t.

Steve seems to care but only that he has carte blanche to tease and torture you. He’s not the one who will be embarrassed or questioned. He’s satisfied and secure in that knowledge, so he continues.

[Main Masterlist; 'Hideout' Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[feasibilities]

Hijo de Satanás: Part II ♱

Warnings: Dead Dove/Do Not Eat, Kn!fe Play, Teasing, Blindfolding, Possessiveness, Worship K!nk, Ropeplay, etc.

Author's Note: 2nd and final part. Part 1 is here. Whew, it's a doozy. Enjoy!

Taglist: @urlocallsimp, @artaxerxesthegreat, @ladymac82, @m-e-d-u-s-a-e

♱

The next morning, you couldn’t help but stare at Namor as he made the finishing touches on his mural. Your embarrassment about his rejection wore off as you saw him in his unguarded moments, too. The same feelings quickly resurfaced when he caught you staring.

“Why do you keep staring?” He said, exaggerating his annoyance.

“My apologies, K'uk'ulkan.”  

“What do you think?” He inquired, standing back to view the mural in its entirety.

“It’s extraordinary. Teech jach talentoso/You are so talented.” You remarked.

“I couldn’t have done it without your help, yáakunaj.” He mused. You felt your cheeks become red hot.

Namor’s need for companionship was the bane of his existence. He had a deep love for others, but he couldn’t bare their mortality. He has witnessed generations of Talokanil births & departures. Knowing that the people he loved the most would eventually die & left him distraught. He worried that he would be left all alone, cursed by his immortality. This is why he was so protective of them, and of you.

“K'uk'ulkan, may I ask you a question?” You inquired.

“Of course.” He said.

“Why do you hate me? I know I flirted with my colleague, but I can’t understand your anger. I am loyal to you as the ruler of Talokan and my superior.  I am not your betrothed or your concubine. ” You critiqued.

Namor took a second to think of his response. Then, he spoke.

“I don’t hate you. I have loved you since I met you. I look forward to hearing your voice & seeing you smile. I would do anything for you if it meant that you would lay next to me each night. No man, noble or not, would cherish you like I would.” Namor professed.

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. You knew he had feelings for you, but you didn’t understand why they were so fervent. In your mind, most of his flirtations were just a part of his charm. Your attractions were there, but you were afraid. You shivered at the thought of his anger if someone brought harm to you in anyway. He was not to be tested.

“K'uk'ulkan, I…” You faltered.

“I need you. I won’t take no for an answer.” He commanded, pulling you close and gazing into your eyes. As depraved as it was, you felt aroused at him revealing his love for you. You felt like he would take over the world if you asked. That kind of codependency was tempting, but dangerous.

You brushed your lips against his & slid your hand under his cape, feeling the smooth skin of his torso. He was warm to the touch. You felt him tighten his grip around you while he started kissing your neck. You moaned quietly.

“This isn’t the time to hold back, le chan paalo’. We’re just getting started.” He cooed, licking your neck. You rutted against him to egg him on.

“I need you too…” You whispered. These 4 words made him pull away & stare into your eyes. His pupils widened.

“Kneel.” He said.

“K'uk'ulkan, I have the utmost respect for you but-“ you said.

“Don’t argue with me. Surrender your pride & kneel.” He interrupted.

Feeling rebellious, you refused and went to leave the cave. Namor was in complete disbelief. Before you knew it, he had a strong grip on your forearm.

“Are you defying me?” Namor accused you, his voice deepening. Fire was in his eyes. You only saw him this angry when Talokan was invaded.

“No…” You croaked.

“I thought so.” He said.

After pulling you to his to his room, Namor blindfolded you & held you still. You felt him kiss your shoulder & nip it lightly. He then picked up a dagger with a jade stone handle.

“Stay still.” He whispered. Your breath staggered when he pressed the flat side against your chest. Moving the blade up, you felt it tug at the strap of your gown before it snapped. He repeated the same action with the other strap. He grazed your collarbone with the blade, leaving a shallow cut. Beads of blood collected at the wound. You moaned at the sting.

“Intia'al utia'al Mantats'/Mine forever…” He cooed. He leaned down to kiss the cut & came back up to kiss you. His breath was hot against your neck. The metallic taste of your blood lingered. You grew tired of his teasing, but you were weary of provoking him.

His fingers found the wet, sensitive bud between your legs. He massaged it for what felt like hours but was just a few measly minutes. You whimpered desperately as arousal dripped down your thighs. You couldn’t see him, but you felt his eyes on you.

Namor then laid you on the bed & no started to kiss you all over. Your senses were overwhelmed due to the blindfold. You felt like your entire body was on fire.

“I-I think I’ve been punished enough.” You begged.

“Have you?” He teased, taking off his cape.

“Yes, I-

“Shhh.” He interrupted. You felt him tie your wrists together with rope. You started squirming in hopes that he would finally finish you off. You yelped when he pinched your thigh.

“Behave, In yakunaj. We’ll get there soon enough.” He snipped. He laid behind you and pulled you close. He lifted your leg & rubbed his tip against your entrance. You throbbed at the sensation. Sliding in ever so slowly, you turned back to kiss him to muffle your screams. You felt his arm wrap around your neck as he began to pump furiously. He nipped your bottom lip as you gasped for air.

Your consciousness wavered as Namor fucked every inkling of defiance out of your body. You kissed him in hopes that he would remove your blindfold, but to no avail. Pleasure was too plain of a word to describe the feeling that took over your body. You could die like this.

“I think you’ve earned the right to see, hmm? ” He cooed.

“Y…yes, K’uk’ulkan.” You whined.

Laying you on your back, he removed your blindfold. You were met with a rare glimpse of the Feather Serpent God in his most vulnerable moment. His eyes were full of passion. You finally understood why everyone fell for him.

You bit your lip in anticipation as he put your legs over his shoulders. He kissed your forehead and dug his nails into your thighs. You both moaned & watched as he slid in slowly.

“Cum in me, please…” You whispered. You stared into his eyes and put your bound wrists around his neck.

Before you knew it, he was thrusting into depths you didn’t know were possible. Namor’s moans grew louder and met yours. Wet sounds & skin hitting skin echoed in your ears. Your legs shook & you screamed as you approached your climax.

You reveled in the fact that the most powerful being you encountered was unraveling in your pink depths. He had the gift of sex from many women, but none punctured his psyche like you did. You were his, and he was yours.

His orgasm was explosive. His groans shook your eardrums. Bruises were left on the backs of your thighs. His entire body convulsed. The sweet elixir of your lovemaking dripped down your perineum. He pressed his forehead against yours and finally spoke.

“Mine forever, In yakunaj.” He whispered.

[simpingcowboy]

Control

Pairing: Trans!Din x GN!Reader, established relationship, no use of Y/N

Word Count: 3.6k+

Warnings: SMUT (and lots of feelings) thigh riding, making out, heavy petting over clothes, a little nipple play, non- smut warnings, body insecurities, passing mention of top surgery, helmetless Din, yearning

Summary: Din wants more with you, but is overly unsure of what you'll think of his body. You're determined to help him see just how much you want him.

A/N: Whew! Thank y'all for your patience with this one <3 Din has so many feelings and is very touch starved!! We are getting a little spicy up in here! Enjoy!! Trans!Din Masterlist

***Cyar'ika darling, sweetheart

Ever since that first kiss, you'd wanted more. Slowly giving into the temptation of his lips, of his touch… Kisses started lasting a little longer. Touches lingering. Hands hovering over places they didn't belong. A growing tension between you two desperate to break.

Din had been away for a couple days tracking down a bounty. Leaving you alone on the Crest. It'd been a long few days. You spent them busying yourself with chores along the ship. Sweeping, dusting, finally tuning up some loose bolts here or there. Doing anything you could to get your mind off of Din.

Finally you hear the Crest door open, and Din's all too familiar footsteps enter upon the ramp. Another unknown set of footsteps approaching with his, the bounty warm. You head up to the cockpit, giving Din the room to deal with the bounty. After a few more moments, Din steps out from the lower level and calls for you.

"Cyar'ika. You can come out now."

Din's heart skips a beat when you peek down at him from the cockpit. Too long, he thinks far too long. He'd missed you while he was away. Late at night he felt himself unprepared for the flood of emotions he would have. All the thoughts of you. In the comfort of night he'd trace his lips with his fingers, remembering the way your lips felt against his. Wishing you were with him so he could kiss you again and again and again. Wishing he felt your warm arms wrapped around him in the frigid nights.

"Din!" You smile down at him, trying and failing to hide your excitement. You eagerly hop down the ladder, happy to finally be face to face with Din once more. "I missed you." You say softly.

"I missed you too-" Under his helmet, Din's eyes lovingly map out every inch of your face eventually locking in on your lips. "Cyar'ika," He reaches out for you, the tips of his gloves barely touching your waist. "Let me kiss you?" He asks, his other hand already reaching for his helmet.

"Please?" You nod, pulling his hand in on your waist. An invitation he eagerly accepts, gripping you tightly. You pull in closer, coming face to face with him. Eyes closed.

The now familiar hiss of his helmet releases. He leans in slowly not wanting to catch you by surprise. The first one is soft. You smile at the feeling of his grown out facial hair. Then more. Din catches your lips again in a heated passion. Something desperate bubbling under the surface. The way he closes in on you is harsh, but no less loving. A third, he steps even closer, your chests threatening to touch.

His hand at your waist digging into the textile of your clothing. Your breath catches in your throat as his warm tongue roughly pleads for entrance at your bottom lip. All too soon, Din stops, a breathless sigh escaping him as he settles his helmet back on his head.

"I-I'm sorry." He spits out quickly. "I shouldn't have done that." He felt embarrassed at his lack of control. At all the ways you so easily broke him down.

You slowly open your eyes, shyly looking at Din. He looks so unsure of himself. Tucking his body back into his frame tightly. "It's okay…Din I liked it."

He tilts his helmet at you. "Liked it?" He repeats after you.

"Yes…I-I like kissing you." You say bashfully, facing the floor, too shy to meet his gaze.

Din feels a bit of his resolve slip out from his grasp. You liked kissing him…he wonders maybe you'd even like doing more with him. The idea makes him go red under the helmet.

"I should um- go shower." Din gestures to his dirty clothing, a lame excuse for his need to calm himself down. "But maybe after we can…talk or kiss again?"

A soft smile grows across your face. "I'd like that."

He lowers his head in a nod. "I'll um go do that then." He choked out, stiffly shuffling away into the 'fresher.

How did you do that?

Make him lose control so easily. He tries to tell himself it's because he's tired, because he missed you, because of the adrenaline still coursing through his veins from the hunt. But it's more than that. He's wanted you ever since that first touch, when your bare hands intertwined with his. Your touch awoke something in him.

He knew desire. Knew lust. You weren't the first to kiss him. Nor the first to feel the Mandalorian's hands on your body. But you were the first person he ever wanted more with. Maybe the only person he'd wanted to truly bare himself to. That's what scared him most of all. Knowing there'd be more…wanting there to be more. You accepted him as he was. That much was clear. But- would you be as eager to receive the rest of him? Would you like what you saw?

Din slid out of his clothes, happy to be free of the heavy weight of his flight suit. Looking over in the mirror to get a glimpse of himself. A light fog over the mirror from the hot shower. He leans in closer…his eyes tracing over the patchy stubble over his face, fixating on the places where none grows. Hands run over his chest, lingering over the two faded scars under his pecs. Almost twenty years…almost two decades have passed since he had his surgery. It's been so long he hardly remembers they were there at all. The scars blend in among his marred body, to most they'd just appear another battle scar. Din looks down at himself. His belly soft with age, comfortably rounded. His hips, squared off at his waist. He no longer feels at war with his body, the way he did so long ago. He likes himself. Enough- at least. But would you?

The hot water rains over Din's body, cleansing him of the built up grime of these past few days. It feels good, soothing to his aching muscles. He works to massage the spots that hurt the most; wishing he was bold enough to ask you to get the spots he can't reach. Maker- wishing to have your hands on him at all. Touching him. Teasing him. Anything…Maker he'd let you do most anything. Slow down Djarin, he chastises himself, one thing at a time. Kissing you nearly knocks him out. If you actually touched him in all the ways he thinks about- well he probably would pass out. So he'll go slow for now…

Eventually he steps out of the shower, quickly drying himself off. He tends to his overgrown moustache and facial hair, giving it a quick trim. He'd been much more mindful of the length of it since you'd begun kissing. He puts on just a hint of aftershave, a slightly pricey luxury he'd impulsively bought one day when he'd overheard you mention you liked men who smelt good. He goes to change. The feeling of fresh clothes against his skin makes him sigh out in relief. Reaching for his armor, he decides against it. The beloved beskar needed a proper cleaning, but there'd be time for that later. Din rests his helmet back onto his head and steps out of the 'fresher.

The Crest is overly quiet. No sound of footsteps to be heard. Din silently creeps around the ship. Checking everywhere for you. It's not until he reaches your bunk, he finds you. A chuckle leaving his lips at the sight of you napping. Wrapped comfortably under the blanket, lips slightly parted. He thinks, for a moment, that he'll let you rest, knowing you never slept well when he was away. That is until you stir.

"Din" you murmur softly. Eyes fluttering open in the darkened room.

"Good morning." He teases in turn, running his bare hand over your head.

You take a deep inhale, catching the faint scent of his aftershave. "Mmm you smell nice."

He smirks. "I showered."

"Mhmm" you softly moan, still waking up. You shift closer to Din, nearly on the edge of the bunk. "Kiss me?" You ask in a sleepy haze.

"Eyes closed, Cyar'ika." Once he sees your eyes close, Din eagerly lifts his helmet up.

The kiss is insistent. The way Din closes in around you. His broad form cowering over you from above. He presses into you heavily. So much so even the tip of his helmet can even be felt digging your forehead. A large hand comes up to your check, running his thumb along it. His lips come crashing into yours again and again.

Under the thick woven cloth of his flight suit, his heart beats a million miles an hour. It's too much, having you like this. But he almost can't stop. Doesn't want to stop. You're too lovely. Each kiss is too soft, too perfect, too electrifying. It feels so right; having you in his grasp. If he didn't know better, he'd rip his helmet off and claim you as his. Enter a riddurk with you. Touch you. Feel you touch him. Finally play with you in all the ways he'd lik- Control Djarin, his internal monologue screams at him, you're losing control.

"Cyar'ika I-" the Mandalorian pulls away suddenly, leaving you with a breathless gasp. Quickly smashing his helmet back onto his face. Hiding the red flush over his neck and chest.

"Stay…" you cut him off with a quiet plea. "Din, I want you" hands slide up his waist, holding onto his hips, "to stay." You say as you pull him closer, urging him to come into the bunk with you. Eyes peering into the dark T of his helmet.

Din's face goes red at your words. Once again grateful you can't see the reaction you have on him. "Stay?" He repeats, his body completely still in your hands.

"I would like you to stay…if that is what you want too." You leave it open, giving him an out.

You were patient. You'd wait a thousand years if that's what it took. A million. You just wanted to see Din relax…let go. To give into his desires. To take whatever it was he needed most from you. Emotionally, physically, mentally. You'd give it all to him. As you knew you always would. It was obvious. Even under the hollow black gaze of his helmet…it was obvious what he wanted. The way his eyes trailed you. The ever increasingly tense kisses. Relief. You wanted to be the one to give it to him.

A low hum is heard from Din. His voice caught in his throat. You, you wanted him. Were asking for him by name. Oh you sweet thing he thinks. Eyes carefully reading your face, looking for signs of deception. Of fear. Of anything that would indicate a lie. His heart pounds even harder when all he can see is the desire in your eyes, the love you have for him, and the trust you put in him. I can give this to you Din decides.

"Close your eyes again for me. Don't open them until I say."

You answer with a nod, closing your eyes. You hear him shift around the room. The soft muted sound of his flight suit moving with him. Shortly he returns to you.

"Open your eyes."

Darkness is the first thing you register. Only a pale sliver of light leaks out from the main hull into the small room. Your eyes slowly adjust, barely making out the silhouette of your Mandalorian.

"Din?"

"I'm here." He answers, putting his hand over yours. "Can you see me?"

"No. Just a silhouette."

"Good." He retracts his hand off yours, going to his helmet.

A low hiss fills the quiet room. Din's silhouette changes, from the hard structured form of his helmet…to soft feathered edges curling up with no distinguishable pattern. Hair! Short curly hair…It feels nearly blasphemous to gaze upon him, even under the guise of darkness. You felt privy to a secret. What a beautiful secret it must be. Din had only taken his helmet off for meals, or showers. Even opting to sleep in it most nights during hunts. No one has seen him since he was a child. No one except, at least in part…you.

Din is quiet. Unsure of what to do with myself without the guard of his helmet, as he fiddles it in his hands nervously. There's an intensity to this kind of vulnerability. Something he hasn't experienced since he was a child. Though he can't fully find your eyes, to look into them unfiltered he can feel them on him. Looking at him. Taking in the newly revealed part of him. An itch of regret is scratching at his throat, aching to be eased.

"Do- do you still want me to stay?" The Mandalorian asks uncharacteristically shyly.

"Yes…" you let out in a breathy sigh. Still in awe at the glimpse of his hair. "Please stay."

Carefully, Din sits his helmet on the side table. He approaches you slowly, being extra cautious in the dark. His hands find yours and lovingly intertwine.

"Din, let me kiss you?" You ask in a hushed voice. "Please pretty boy?"

The nickname makes his heart flutter. Stars, is he nervous…being this vulnerable has him on edge but- with each gentle caress of your hands on his he regains a bit more strength. Each soft word of yours easing his stressed heart.

"Cyar'ika, you're sure you want me?"

You smile to yourself…it's a bit endearing to see the fearless Mandalorian be so helpless to his emotions. "Yes. I love you Din." You raise his left hand to your mouth, kissing the open palm. "I've wanted you for as long as I can remember."

With the feeling of your lips on his hand, he can no longer help himself. Fighting against the voice in his head, Din leans down to kiss you. A full tender kiss. Trying to be as gentle as he can be, like he's afraid to hurt you. You want to show him everything. That it's okay. That you want him. That your interest in him was genuine. Your hands move up his arms, moving to wrap around his neck. Holding his lips against yours. Guiding him closer.

Din nervously follows your lead. He might not trust himself with you…but he trusts you with himself. He knew you'd take care of him. Respect his boundaries. Go slow. His body relaxes above you as he shuffles into the bunk. A called sigh escapes Din as he settles over your thigh.

It's a tight fit. The large Mandalorian easily fills out the width of the bunk by himself, let alone with you joining him. But you make it work. Your chests are nearly touching. Din was only held up by his forearms. Legs are squished between one another, warmth radiating from where your body's touch. One of your hands goes to play with the unseen curls at the base of his neck, the other tracing over the bulge of his bicep above you. You pull away from the kiss, just briefly.

"More." Is all you say. And Din eagerly agrees.

More…he can give you more.

Closer. He gets so much closer. Letting more of his weight drop onto you. The thick padding of his flight suit pressing into your torso. Ungloved hands slide under your body, rubbing along your shoulders. His hips drop down lower, barely hovering over your thigh.

This time- you're the first to run your tongue against his lips. Asking for entrance that is quickly granted. Din parts his lips open, his tongue excitedly meeting yours. You trace along the inside of his mouth methodically. Pacing yourself. Setting the rhythm for you both. You whine at the way he purposefully scrapes his teeth on the tip of your tongue. You lock lips once more, bound in a tight harsh kiss. Din, as he did before, runs his tongue along your bottom lip begging for his turn. He explores your mouth with vigor. Like a young boy having his first kiss, but with the experience of a man who's taken many lovers. He just can't get enough. His hands move off your back up onto your sides, tracing your figure. Hands running from your ribs down to your hips. In his excitement, he drops his hips against your thighs and-

"Dank ferrick-" he moans out loudly, his whole body jumping at the contact. Din's body goes stiff and still above you.

A pause. For a few brief moments, there's nothing. Just the soft, heavy breathing of Din and the feeling of his hands anxiously squeezing your sides.

"Din?"

No response.

"Din?"

"I'm sorry." Is all he says. Still unmoving.

"Is something wrong?"

"No…" his voice lingers. "I just-"

You touched him. Not intentionally. But you touched him. Somewhere no one ever had before. Somewhere he'd been too shy to let anyone touch before. That space between his legs he'd reserved for himself. For moments alone. This is when he'd usually switch to giving his partner attention. Focus on them and their pleasure. But dank ferrick he liked the way you made him feel. The way you felt under him. You run your hand up through his hair, and he melts under your touch. Easing his body back down to yours.

"You feel good." He quietly murmurs into your neck. "Your thigh I mean it's -"

Quick to catch on, you slowly lift your leg up gently pressing it against him. "My thigh feels good?" You finish for him.

A whine escapes his lips as you press against him. His head drops against your chest. "Yes. S-so good." Even through the layers of clothes between you, that light pressure drives him crazy. Maker, is this what he's done for so many others?

You smile, softly chuckling at how cute he is. How needy. Melting so quickly at such a light touch. He deserves this. Pleasure. You bring a hand down on his hip, urging him along. "You can keep going, Din."

"Cyar'ika-"

"It's okay." You reassure him. Flexing your thigh against him, earning you another groan. "I want you to."

Shyly, Din slowly grinds against your thigh. His breath quickens with each pass of his hips. Breathless moans and deep groans are delivered directly to your ear. Din messily kisses along your neck as he rides your thigh. In time getting rougher, working himself closer to the edge. He eats up your praise like a man starved.

"Good boy. Sound soo good. Go harder. I love having you on top of me. Love feeling you. My pretty boy."

His hands get greedy, groping over your upper body feeling over every inch he can reach. His fingers flick over the hard nipples he feels through your shirt. He smiles into your neck at the whine you let out.

"Tease." You huff at him.

"Only fair Cyar'ika. Now come here." His hands cup your face. His lips crash into yours, happy to be kissing you again.

There's so much love in his kisses. In the way he holds you. In the way he softly moans your name. Most of all in the way he trusts you. Hands himself over so easily. His body. His secrets. His love. It was yours. All yours. He surrendered himself to you completely. All that power was a heavy responsibility, but in return you'd give him all the things he needed and more.

Din's heart races in his chest. He wraps his arms around your body tightly. A shiver runs up his body. "Close." He moans, "S-so close."

You pull him close, stroking his hair. Kisses sprinkled over his face. "Cum for me Din." You plead in a heated breath.

With a few more rolls of his hips Din collapses on top of you. His full weight pressing you into the bunk mattress. Breathing heavily into your ear, just holding you tightly to him. Your hands work to soothe him. Running along his back. After a few minutes, Din lifts himself up, bringing his forehead to yours. Trying his best to look into your eyes in the dark room.

"Thank you." He whispers. "No one's ever…touched me before."

You bring a hand to his face, feeling over the light stubble. "No one's ever touched you before?" You ask softly. You knew he'd had some experience you just hadn't thought-

"Not like that at least." He says with a chuckle. "Never below my belt. I never…never wanted them to."

You feel your face get flushed at the indication of you being the first to have him like this. "Was that okay? You feel alright? Everything-"

"I'm good. Very good." Din assures you. "I'm happy it was with you." A butterfly kiss lands on the tip of your nose. "I love you…"

You smile up at him. "I love you too." You pull him into a soft kiss. He moans into your mouth, just enjoying being close to you. You whine as he pulls away.

"Cyar'ika. I'd love to keep kissing you, but I need to go change first..." He says bashfully.

You fail to suppress the small laugh that leaves your lips. "Go ahead, Din."

He shifts out from the tight bunk. Putting his helmet securely back on his head. The door to the bunk opens, light flooding the small room. For the first time in what feels like hours, you finally see Din again. His broad frame filling up the doorway. The light catching his helmet in a way that mesmerizes you. He's always so beautiful. A feeling of warmth fills you. What an honor it is to be allowed even a glimpse under that helmet.

"Don't be too long?" You ask with a small smile on your face.

He nods towards you. "Never."

Din turns on his heels, catching one last glimpse of you before making his way to his own bunk. Control he laughs at his own earlier thoughts. No…Din never had control. He'd given that to you long ago. He was yours. He'd follow wherever, whatever you wanted.

[munsster]

steve teaches you how to drive

A/N: when i tell you how embarrassed i am to be getting my license this late……… the only thing that’s soothing my nerves is that robin doesn’t either which led me to this idea……… head full of steve

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader (‘her’ is used in reference to reader ONCE))

he is SHOCKED that you’ve gotten this far without a license (and then remembers that he has been driving you everywhere since the dawn of time)

he spends a full hour explaining the car’s functions, letting you sit in the front, car parked, just to fiddle with all the buttons and levers and pedals

“what does this one do?” “those are gonna be your fog lights. but use ‘em in rain and snow, too, okay? not your high beams” “okay. and what’s this?” “that’s neutral. you don’t need to worry about that for now.”

on one hand, you’re completely nervous. on the other hand, steve is a wonderful driver, and you know you can trust him

besides, he’s letting you learn in his car. his expensive ass ‘81 beamer. he’s letting you LEARN in it. the pressure is on full force, babe, so sorry to say it

before you even THINK about driving, he’s patting the dash like “this is my baby, okay? treat her nice” and he doesn’t know whether he’s talking to you or about you

because honestly, he’s not worried about the car; he’s worried about you. he wants you to feel totally safe and he wants to keep you out of an accident

he takes you to the old Starcourt parking lot, and he has this stupid, proud smile on his face when he gets out of the car and saunters around the front

and he whispers “i believe in you” and kisses you quickly

and he helps you adjust your seat, crouching down and saying “good? is that good?” each time he scoots you up and you nodding when he looks at you

“can you see over the wheel?” “mhm” “perfect”

then he’s sliding into the passenger’s seat and sitting all antsy and excited (while also like shaking???? and he’s suddenly so focused and head empty at the same time)

and he’s holding back a laugh because you don’t touch the gas for like thirty minutes, just creeping down the empty aisles, eyes wide and hands GRIPPING that wheel

“WAS THAT A FUCKING SIREN?” “not for you, i promise”

learning that the brake is more like a good song than a bug you’re trying to squash (steve’s pretty sure he has whiplash now)

don’t even get him started on turning and parking

it’s fatal, babe.

“don’t cross your arms” + “pull. pull. PULL.” + “stop. okay, let go. no—turn here. okay” + “over your shoulder. wrong shoulder.” + “this mirror, not that one, okay?” + “give it a little gas, baby”

he’s a very gentle teacher even though he gets a little jumpy at times

needless to say, you hit a couple curbs

but you do get the hang of it, and his stress dissipates because he doesn’t have to direct you anymore and he can see you getting more confident

you actually park really well the second time. like you’re a little slanted in the spot, but you’re still right smack dab in the middle. no door dings for you, babeyy

he tells you to get out, and you’re thinking holy fuck i broke the goddamn car

but he has a shit-eating grin on his face, so excited like “baby, that was perfect” and pulling you against him so you can see your 10/10 parking job

lot’s of high-fives. and hugs. and kisses.

and all that praise, whew: “good job” + “baby,,, you’re kidding, that was perfect, you don’t even need me anymore” + “beautiful” + “shit, you’re better than i am” + “that’s the spot, baby, make her purr, yeah”

i— 👀

i’m so sorry

and this is like a weekly if not DAILY thing

he finds any excuse to get you on the road

and turns out, you really like going downhill

just coasting, not a care in the world. and oh, shit the light at the bottom is red

you get so comfortable, and he has genuinely never been prouder

you get really cocky. like worse than him on a good day

and your gloating is actually very cute (“YESSS, did you see that? steve, did you??? that was insane!!”)

suddenly, your road rage is rapidly developing

“DID HE JUST PASS ME??? WHO DOES HE THINK HE IS???” + “calm down, speed demon, we’re all going to the same place” + “hey asshole, it’s the pedal on the right”

when you finally feel comfortable enough to play music, steve is always DJ, it’s the rules, and he catches you humming/singing/absolutely grooving while cruising

he tries really hard not to distract you, but sometimes on a long, straight road, he leans over to kiss your cheek. or maybe he’ll be like “psst” and get you to look over and then peck your lips, the cheeky bastard

he’s utterly in love with you

TAKING SHIFTS CARTING THE KIDS AROUND :’)

and they DEFINITELY prefer your driving

dustin’s like “y/n, please drive” and steve turns around and looks him dead in the eye like “is there something wrong with the way i drive, henderson?” and dustin’s like “uh, duh, it’s shit. let y/n drive”

all while you’re just laughing and steve’s grumbling the whoooole way

once you finally get your license, he is never driving again and loves it. it’s not his fault you look incredible driving his car

have fun being his chauffeur :)

masterlist

[meltwonu]

36. “Could he make you feel as good as i do?”

51. “What? Does that feel good?”

notes; racer/street-racing!au, dom!wonwoo, fighting(just a lil scuffle between two lads), dirty talk, degradation, name-calling, panty stuffing, blowjob/face-fucking, hair pulling, wonwoo may have a tongue piercing in this one~ WHEW 😳💕 the racer rotation of drabbles is finally done and we’re finishing with Mr Jeon himself! 😈 I’m writing this notes section post-attacca teaser of him with the face scars so I ended up tweaking the chapter a bit to include some of that instead heheh… 🥴 Also this’ll be my last post before Monster Mash S2 starts on the 19th! I’ll try to answer my inbox msgs until then and reblog some old works too! 🥳💕 As always, thank you so much for requesting! Enjoy! 💕

*queued post.

Physical altercations almost never happen at car meets - as far as you know.

But tonight, the first punch that gets thrown has everyone around you gasping as Wonwoo lands a perfect punch right into Mingyu’s left cheek at the finish line.

The cash prize completely forgotten when Mingyu had sauntered up to you and asked you for a kiss as his prize instead.

“Keep your fuckin’ hands to yourself, Mingyu!”

And Mingyu just smirks - lip bleeding slightly as he chuckles under his breath knowing he was just teasing you, and Wonwoo, just a little.

“Why? Scared your girl is gonna fall for me too? Aww, c’mon hyung, have a little more confidence, y’know? I might just---oof!”

Wonwoo lands another punch just as you cover your mouth in shock;  fingers itching to pull Wonwoo back from the fight just as Mingyu makes a move to land a punch on Wonwoo’s face too.

“Hey, maybe w-we should---” You’re cut off as soon as the gasps start up again - both males gripping each other by the collar of their jackets as they get in each other’s face.

“Haven’t you had enough, Mingyu? You’ve got everyone’s attention.”

The younger male licks his bleeding lip - eyes twinkling with mischief the entire time they lock eyes.

“Let me pretty up that face of yours a ‘lil more, Wonwoo-hyung. Then we’ll call it even.”

Wonwoo grips the steering wheel hard enough for his hand to shake - face scratched up and lip bleeding as you glance over.

“W-Wonwoo, maybe we s-should pull over so I can clean up your, um, wounds… Y-your lip is b-bleeding...”

He smirks at this, shifting gears as he drives away from the car meet and further into the mountains instead.

“Yeah? Gonna be my good girl and get me all fixed up? Or do you want something else, hmm?”

“W-what?”

Your cheeks burn at his insinuating question - thighs clamping together harder as your hands ball up into fists in your lap out of nervousness.

“Do you think I couldn’t see the way you were watching us the entire time?”

“Wh--what do you m-mean?”

Wonwoo finds a quiet opening off to the side of the road; the trees shrouding the car from view as he turns it off and turns to face you.

“Did your panties get wet watching me and Mingyu fighting over you? Tell me, princess~ I wanna know what’s making you soak the leather of that passenger’s seat so fuckin’ bad.”

You gulp hard as your entire body buzzes with desire - half-embarrassed he could even tell at a glance and half not caring as his bruised hand crosses the middle console and places itself on your exposed thigh.

“I--I, um, it was just… You--You looked r-really hot…” Mumbling, you avoid his piercing stare as he smirks and licks the drying blood off of his lip.

“That’s all? I get into a little scuffle and it gets you this wet, princess? Hah, such a cock hungry ‘lil slut, huh?” He squeezes your thigh as you mewl; shaky breaths on your lips when he immediately starts to retract his hand.

“Well, how ‘bout you take care of me first and then I’ll return the favour, okay?”

You don’t have much space in the backseat of Wonwoo’s car and the way he fucks your face leaves you with hardly enough air in your lungs as you sputter around his cock.

Not that Wonwoo currently cares.

“Awww, you look so pretty for me, princess~ Makeup and hair all ruined for me while you choke on my cock~”

He grips you by the hair and holds you still - hips thrusting up as his cock slides into your mouth and down your throat as you try your best to relax your gag reflex.

“Fuck, you’re so good at taking all of me down your throat too~ Should I cum down your throat or should I cum in that soaked cunt of yours, hmm?” 

You whimper in return, vision blurred by the tears as he holds you down onto his cock. 

“Could he make you feel as good as I do, I wonder?” Wonwoo peers down at his bruised hand locked tight into your hair. “Do you think his cock is big enough to satisfy that pussy of yours?”

He pulls your head off of his cock as you sputter and gasp for air - a trail of spit and precum connecting your chapped lips to the head of his cock.

“I wanna hear an answer, princess.”

“I--I...” Your voice is hoarse as you catch your breath; the tears staining your cheeks as you moan. “N-no... only---only your c-cock is, mmh, b-big enough to s-satisfy me, Won--Wonwoo...” 

“Yeah? Let me hear more and I’ll give it to you right now.”

You gulp and rub your thighs together - Wonwoo’s hand tightening it’s grip in your hair as you wince. 

“P-please... I, a-ah, wanna feel you s-stretching my--my pussy with y-your cock... I’m so w-wet already... M--Mingyu c-couldn’t g-get me this w-wet...” You cry out. 

And Wonwoo takes pity at the way you peer up at him - cheeks stained with smeared mascara and drying tears as your bottom lip quivers. 

“Fine, get on my lap then, princess.”

He lets go of your hair and it takes you a second to find your bearings as you settle atop his lap - your skirt bunching up around your waist as his hands situate on your hips.

“I wanna try something a ‘lil different, okay?” You nod feverishly and let him guide you as he lifts you up until you’re hovering over him.

“Stay still.” 

Your clench your jaw as he lifts a hand off of you hip and wraps it around his cock - guiding it until it’s positioned right at your clothed entrance.

“Now sit on my cock, princess.”

Gulping, you slowly start to lower your body down as you hold your breath feeling the head of his cock slowly start to push the soaked lace of your panties into your cunt.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the feeling of the fabric and his cock combined - unable to stop yourself from cumming when he’s fully bottomed out inside of you.

“Ngh, W--Wonwoo...!”

“What? Does that feel good?” He smirks; watching as your body shakes and convulses atop his lap as you ride out your orgasm. “So fuckin’ easy, huh, princess? Such a fuckin’ perfect cockslut for me. It doesn’t even take much to get you to cum, does it?” 

Your walls flutter around his cock and only soak the panties even more as Wonwoo gives you a moment to catch your breath before he’s guiding you up and down his cock. 

Loud moans spill from your lips as his hips thrust up into you; the head of his cock slamming into your g-spot with each perfectly angled thrust.

“Wonwoo... Wonwoo...” Mewling, you don’t even need him to guide you any further as you alternate from swiveling your hips to fucking yourself on his cock by raising and dropping your weight onto his lap and all he can do in return is laugh and watch as you lose yourself to the pleasure.

“Feels that fuckin’ good, huh, princess? How ‘bout you give me a kiss since I let you have what you want.” 

Your bleary eyes peer into Wonwoo’s own lust-filled eyes before they flit down to his parted lips - shaky pupils eyeing the glint of silver sitting on the bed of his tongue.

Leaning in, you brace your hands on his warm chest as your lips meet his; moaning into the kiss just as his tongue licks the seam of your lips. 

You part your lips for him and he wastes no second as he slides his tongue into your mouth; whimpering when the metal meets your own tongue.

He scoffs into the kiss as he feels your walls clamping down onto his cock in the midst of it all - hands sliding underneath your shirt while you melt in his lap from the overwhelming sensations.

And when you pull back to catch your breath, Wonwoo can only laugh cruelly at your, already, fucked out expression; his hands pushing your top up and over your head before he tosses it somewhere into the front seat.

“We have allllll night, princess. And I’m just getting started.”

[cinnamonest]

//extra toxic fuckboy behaviors especially at the end, impreg, slutshaming, blackmail, mildly sexist But anyway instead of Childe drugging post have Childe drunk sex post Childe with a cute fem subordinate darling. The thing is, he doesn't actually drug you, per se. It's a little more deceptive than that -- you're certainly under the influence, though. Like Kaeya, he's only doing this if he's reached a point where he's desperate. You've turned him down over and over, he's tried everything he can to get you to fuck him and you won't. He's frustrated and blueballed and that's a very unfortunate combination for poor darling, because he's considerably less nice when he's frustrated. But that's what you deserve. If you were good and just let him fuck you all those times he tried before -- and believe him, he tried a LOT -- then this wouldn't have to happen. He tried so many times, and he tried everything he knows! All the lines he rehearsed in his head didn't work, and he came on pretty heavy, leaving him just feeling sad and bitter. Obviously you want him, how could you not, so he’s just doing something wrong. He's your superior, he could just, dunno, demand it? But that would feel kinda emasculating, to be honest, at least, more so than the plan he does settle on. And that's why you won't be knocked out, not all the way. He's very particular about it. He doesn't have anything against this morally, no, it's normalized to him, and it's not like he'd get in trouble. Granted, he has plenty of drugs available. It's pretty well known that the Fatui guys do this kind of thing pretty frequently, the men go in groups to taverns in Mondstadt and pick through girls and even some young guys to find the most naive and gullible to spike and lure away when they start swaying. Luckily for those, at least, it's a one time ordeal they can forget and move on from, but you aren't going to be so lucky. Nor does he need to drug you to get what he wants. He thinks you're a little stupid, really. You accept his invitation so quickly. Camped out in the wilderness with nothing but liquor and your own two selves. For a moment, it occurs to him he doesn't even need to put you under the influence, he could just force you right here and you couldn't do a thing. Still, he did have to pay a bit to get this nice stuff, so he might as well, and he can't afford you screaming and drawing attention from a potential passerby. So he watches you take the cup designated as yours, and before you can even take a moment to question or doubt, he challenges you. You can't outdrink him, he says. Bet you're a lightweight. You'd probably get sick a few shots in. Where he's from, people actually know how to hold their alcohol, unlike you weak-livered people. And of course, you scoff, you fold your arms, you insist he's wrong, just as he knew you would, just as he hoped you would. And he just smiles at you. Ok, prove it then. You glare back and say you're on. You don't question that he's pouring out of two separate flasks. You can't see the color difference between the liquids in the darkness of the night sky, nor the grimace on his face as he drinks -- maybe he should have brought water from the town rather than filling his flask out of the river, yuck. Your determined face is so cute. Your eyelids start to get heavy. You scrunch your face as your blink and try to stay alert. You drop one of your shots on the ground and he smiles and says maybe you should just accept defeat. You shake your head and keep going. Admittedly, he's actually a bit impressed, you got more than he thought you would by the time you finally drop the glass for good and slump on the ground. Whew. About time, he was starting to get sick of drinking so much water. And you do twitch a bit, open your eyes and stumble around and mutter something about not accepting defeat, you'll prove him wrong, but he just laughs and picks you up and drags you into the tent with ease. He likes it when you're not blacked out all the way. That's why drugging you would have been no fun. This way, your eyes open just a bit, heavily lidded and blinking, you mumble out incoherent words. You protest just a bit when you feel your clothes slide off -- what are you... but you don't finish the question. He's a good guy, really, he cares about you, which is why he does a quick check and feels your skin to make sure you're not actually under any alcohol poisoning or something, but your skin is warm and dry, not clammy. Good, now you can get to the good part. He thinks about how grateful you should be. His friends and subordinates even have teased him for the longest time because he won't just go out with them to try to get lucky somewhere or participate in their drugging of randoms, no, he's whipped, they snicker, obsessed with this one little bitch that just won't put out. He can't say they're wrong, and that irritates him even more that you humiliated him like that. Which is why this isn't just a one time thing, no, this is part of the plan. He talks to you while he fucks you, maybe you'll remember some of it, maybe not. Actually, hopefully not everything, since he more or less admits how desperate he is in his lust-hazed rambling, how much it's irritated him that you wouldn't just be his and let him fuck you. Why can't you just admit you like him? Why do you have to play hard to get? He rambles about how soft your body is. How good pussy really does feel, holy shit, those guys were right, it's so warm and grips his dick so nicely. Not that he'd limit himself to that, while he's got you like this he might as well put his dick in your limp mouth, but admittedly he imagines that would feel a lot better if you were awake and actually sucking on it. Your mouth moves just a bit, and in your nearly-blacked-out state your tongue runs over the intrusion and you let out the softest confused little sound, but that's all you do. But he makes sure to breed you, cumming several times, all deep deep deep inside of your tight cunt. Again, part of the plan. Just not the most important part of the plan. The most important part is the kamera. It captures moment after moment. The first round he just leaves it aside, takes time to really just live in this sweet, precious moment... and then he breaks the kamera out. Gets all the nice shots with his dick in your holes. Gets a few full body ones, makes sure it's unmistakable as you. Captures your cute drunk face, with your eyes open just a bit, it looks like you're just awake but eyes lidded from arousal. You look awake. Willing. And so, when he finally goes to sleep, he does so very very happily and confident. And when you wake up, he was so rough that there's absolutely no doubt as to what transpired. Your throat and pussy are sore as hell, you're both naked in bed and his cum is still leaking out of you. The regret and shame comes crashing down, holy shit, you slept with your boss that's been trying to fuck you for ages now and your life is over. You'll have to transfer or something. But then... you know you drank on your own choice, but something feels... wrong. He's heavily snoring away, so in morning light you spot the flasks from last night. Your head is pounding, but you make your way over to the first one, and take a swig and spit it back out, yeah, that's the stuff you had... and then take a swig from the other... and when you taste water it all clicks. Bastard. You shake him awake in fury and immediately start telling him off, cursing and snarling. He was half expecting that, to be honest. Sure, obviously you want him, but he gets that you'd be a little mad over the way you got what you wanted, and you’re just embarrassed because you were so dumb, you're just hysterical like that. And you’re just naturally ashamed after fucking, like most girls apparently are, he gets that. But he just smiles and laughs in your face. It cuts deep, it's like a knife in your stomach, because you know why. He's untouchable, even if people believed you, nothing will happen to him, and he knows that. He has nothing to fear. You grit your teeth and your eyes tear up and your lip quivers and you finally drop your head and sniffle, asking him to just take me back. You'll quit, transfer to another department, and then, you tell him bitterly, I'll never have to see you again, at least. And that's what makes his smile drop. You're not gonna do that, he says. Your eyes widen with some new horror when you see the pictures. He talks to you like a child, in that dumb oversimplified way of speech, it's degrading and dehumanizing. Explains that this is how it's gonna go. You're gonna keep being his little subordinate. You're gonna be his girlfriend, publicly. And you're gonna fuck him whenever he wants. If you decide you don't like that, the entire branch, hell, the entire organization sees these photos. You have a very easy, simple choice. It's up to you to decide what happens. Oh, and you're probably pregnant, by the way, he timed this whole thing based on that calendar you keep that he snuck a look at. Would hate for you to have to deal with that on your own, right? People do envy you, down the line. How easy your job must be, since you're nothing more than an assistant now. Everyone knows you're just fucking the boss, that's probably how you got that position in the first place, right? And it's not like he doesn't make it obvious. Whenever he gets with the group of guys at his own level, when they all start saying horrendous things about the women they work with and sharing over-embellished tales as men do, he has plenty of very detailed stories to brag about the cute girlfriend he has. How she drops to her knees at any given moment, and how good and tight she is, and how eager she is, how much she loves fucking him, worships him, he's not like the pathetic bastards that have to go drug some poor unsuspecting thing once a month or so, no, he can get all the sweet, devoted pussy he wants at any time. He has the pictures to prove it! They roll their eyes because they've seen the pictures a hundred times now, everyone has, he shows every guy he works with, and they all know not to tell her that they've seen them. Even if they did, it wouldn't matter, she'd be dumb to leave him this late into pregnancy anyway.

[fruitcoops]

I have a request. :) What if coops were watching a scary movie together and Sirius is getting actually scared so he is just trying not to watch and cuddle into Remus instead. But he is too embarrassed to ask Remus to turn it off so he just tries to suffer through it. You can decide if you want Remus to notice and turn it off and comfort him or not. Thank you for all of your amazing writing!

This is such a cute ask, and lots of fun to write! Thanks for suggesting it <3 Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove, but Hattie is mine!

TW for mentioned blood and gore (in the movie) and general fear

“That’s a lot of blood,” Remus remarked.

Personally, Sirius thought that was a bit of an understatement considering the gorefest happening on the screen, but he had been terrified into silence twenty minutes before and simply nodded in response.

The shrieking, wailing, and rending of various body parts continued. Hattie whined and buried her nose further into the small of his back. Smart girl, Sirius thought, cuddling just slightly closer to Remus’ side. The horror movie had been a last-minute, pick something or we’ll both be frustrated decision—now, an hour into the worst television experience of his life, he regretted every choice he had made that led them to this spot.

He turned to place a kiss just below Remus’ ear. If it also served to hide his face from the literal demonic entity that just popped out of nowhere…well, that was nobody’s business but his own. “Hey, I’m kinda tired,” he mumbled, though every nerve was alight with fear and he wasn’t sure his eyelids would ever shut again.

“Oh?” Remus kept his gaze on the screen. I love you, but you confuse and terrify me.

“Mhmm. How much is left?”

Remus picked up the remote; half a second before he paused, one of the lead characters got fucking stabbed in the back by something that had not been there mere moments earlier. Sirius jolted, stifling a shout of surprise. Remus remained absolutely still. “Whew, that was a good one,” he said mildly as Sirius struggled to regain control of his stuttering heartbeat. “Just under fifty minutes left.”

Why am I doing this? Sirius wondered internally. I have nothing to prove.

“The effects are pretty impressive, huh?”

Sirius hummed vague assent.

“No CGI or anything. Pretty cool.”

“No, yeah, definitely.”

Bones weren’t supposed to do that. Kids certainly weren’t supposed to bend like that. Sirius’ mouth was drier than desert sand and he gave up on dignity, squishing himself as close as possible under the safe haven of Remus’ arm. “The, uh—” Remus was interrupted by a blood-curdling scream that froze Sirius from the inside out. He cleared his throat. “The—I heard the director has been trying to make this for ages. It was in the newspaper last week and everything.”

“Was it?” Sirius’ voice sounded weak even to his own ears.

“Uh-huh.” Please keep talking, please keep talking, please keep talking. “Sorry, I’m probably ruining this for you.”

“No, you’re all good.” You are the only thing keeping me from crawling under the blankets with the dog.

They lapsed back into silence and Sirius squeezed his eyes shut as what was left of the main group turned their backs to the basement. The creepy-ass door was going to open—yep, there’s the creak—and then they were going to go down the rickety staircase, and then everyone was either going to die or be traumatized for life. No matter how formulaic it was, Sirius still felt ice trickle down his spine.

The next forty-five minutes passed at a glacial pace. More blood than Sirius could have imagined spattered the set, and he had stopped trying to follow the plot entirely so he could zone out instead. “Ready for bed?” Remus asked as the credits rolled, sounding entirely unfazed. Hattie crawled into their laps with a soft snuffle. “Oh, lovey, were you scared?”

Yes. “Poor thing,” Sirius cooed with as much control as he could muster, lifting her up to hide his shaky arms. Remus ducked into the kitchen to put away the popcorn bowl; as soon as he was out of earshot, Sirius leaned down and kissed her forehead. “You and me both, ma petite. You’re sleeping on the bed with us tonight.”

“What?” Remus called from the kitchen.

“Oh, nothing.” He set Hattie down. “I’ll be upstairs when you’re done.”

Sirius made it to the base of the staircase, then paused. The hallway at the top was dark; fear prickled the back of his neck. There’s no such thing as demons, he told himself, grabbing the bannister. His palms were sweating. Nothing to be afraid of. “Honey?”

“Merde!” he yelped, letting go as if it had burned him.

Remus gave him a look of alarm. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just—” He flailed a hand around, pulse pounding in his throat. “Just thought I saw a spider. Startled me.”

“…alright.”

He turned the lights on as soon as they reached the landing. Sirius had never been so grateful for the power of modern electricity. The hall was just as they had left it, looking ridiculously normal and unthreatening—embarrassment reddened his cheeks as he changed into his pajamas. Scared of your own house? Really?

Well, that wasn’t quite true—he wasn’t scared of the house itself, just the murderous entities that may or may not be living in the dryer vents. That was all.

He was feeling better until Remus turned the lights off and slipped into bed beside him, leaning over for a ‘goodnight’ kiss. “Sleep well, baby,” he said, resting his temple on Sirius’ shoulder.

“Love you.”

The trees swaying outside looked like long, bony fingers; if he concentrated, he could hear low weeping in the wind. Sirius felt an irrational fear rise when he tried to close his eyes and focus on Remus’ slow breaths—what if he woke up and there was something in the doorway? What if he had nightmares? What if his fear wasn’t irrational at all, and there was an omen he was missing—

“Sirius?”

“Yeah?” he whispered back.

Remus hesitated, then exhaled through his nose. “Can we turn the light on?”

“Oh, thank fuck,” Sirius said around a sigh of relief. “Yes. Also, please never suggest a horror movie ever again.”

“I hate them,” Remus confessed as they sat up. “I saw a commercial for The Conjuring in seventh grade and had nightmares for two full months.”

“Why did you recommend it?”

“I thought you liked them!”

“I was about to hide under the couch!” Sirius laughed, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. “Mon dieu, that was the w—holy shit!”

The fuzzy thing under his foot made a high-pitched noise and moved; Sirius scrambled back with a strangled shout, nearly toppling them both over the other side. Remus clung to him as they both shrieked in sheer panic until the only sound was their heavy breathing. The shadow by the edge of the bed shifted again, then whined.

Sirius groaned, releasing his death grip. “Really, Hat Trick?”

“You’re kidding.”

“Viens ici.” He patted the side of the bed and the blob of inky black hopped up, then settled at the foot of the bed with an indignant huff. “Did I step on you?”

Hattie grumbled and stretched her long body across the mattress. Remus turned the bedside lamp on, pinching the bridge of his nose as he shook his head. “Well, that was mortifying.”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep, but I don’t really want to go back downstairs.”

Remus laid on his back and held out his arms. “Cuddles?”

“You read my mind.”

They snuggled up to each other as tight as they could, leaving only a sliver of space between their bodies as Hattie warmed their feet. Sirius kissed the top of Remus’ head once before closing his eyes once more; they laid in silence for a moment longer, then let out twin sighs as he pulled the covers all the way up to their necks to create a cocoon of warmth and safety. The soft glow of the lamp chased away the shadows, and within a few minutes he fell into a dreamless sleep.

[trashytummiez]

Story Prompt: Mina does the Coke and Mentos challenge and ends up with a bubbly belchy belly afterwards.

Warning: contains belly kink bloating burps fluff hiccups indigestion nausea tummy play tummy rubs

"Is it recording?" Mina asked in her casual wares standing in a field.

Kirishima gave a thumbs up from behind his phone whilst recording his girlfriend.

Mina grinned and waved back at the camera. "Hiiiii guys! Soooo we read your comments on the last challenge video and since so many of you requested it we're gonna tackle the coke and mentos challenge!" She held up a thick 2 liter bottle of diet coke with a pack of mentos. "Seems easy enough don'tcha think?"

"You got this dude!" Kirishima encouraged her from behind the camera.

"Let's find out!" Mina said excitedly then pouted at the camera. "If I get sick though I'm totally blaming this on Mineta. Don't act like you weren't one of the commentators you little purple creep!"

Her pout turned to an eager and confident grin.

"Anyway! Let's do this!"

She opened the mentos pack and popped a mentos into her mouth.

"Now I keep hearing mixed things that you're not supposed to chew them or anything right? So," she dipped her head back and swallowed the mentos whole which made a tiny lump emerge from the front of her pink neck until it sank down her gullet with a light squelch. Mina popped another mentos into her mouth and did the same thing of swallowing it whole. She did that for about five or six mentos then huffed softly. "Wow swallowing those whole doesn't feel the best," she complained rubbing her throat softly but that discomfort was short lived. "But that should make them more reactive so lets get this challenge started for reals!"

Now came the fun part.

Mina cracked open her 2 liter bottle of diet coke and lifted it up to her lips so she could begin chugging it down. She rested her eyes shut as she took in big thick gulps of soda. Her throat throbbed and rippled with the passage of fizzy diet sugar water flowing down her gullet all at once.

"Wow you're really guzzlin' that stuff down!" Kirishima exclaimed with an impressed whistle.

Mina continued chugging at an impressive rate. She got the soda down to its label in one go without stopping and Kirishima cheering her on for every second of her chugging.

Eventually she pulled the bottle away and panted so heavily that some soda dribbled from her mouth. In the midst of her panting she gave a short but foamy sounding burp. She covered her mouth after then immediately blew her hand back with a massive burp. That one belted out of her so hard that Kirishima would've sworn that even he could feel it.

The boy laughed heavily behind the camera. "Gahahahah! Dude nice! That was real manly!"

"Whew! Wow!" Mina exclaimed and patted her tummy in an impressed sort of way. "Ungh man that was so loud!"

"How're ya feelin' so far?" Kirishima asked.

Mina rubbed her stomach experimentally and pouted in contemplation. "Kinda full but..." she paused while she rubbed and gave a look of discomfort. Then she gripped her stomach a little more firmly and gave another powerful burp that left her panting and left Kirishima laughing. "Unf...'kay I'm definitely feelin' a lil bubbly," Mina admitted and rubbed her belly gently from side to side. Then she grinned again. "But nothin' I can't handle!"

So she went back to swigging her beverage down. Mina could always get a lot of liquids down since her body burned through whatever she ate slightly faster from the acid she secretes warming her body temperature up. The more soda filled her tummy up though the more the mentos began to react. By not chewing them up first those minty shells fizzed with the soda in her stomach and reacted much more violently than they otherwise would have. It was getting so bad that Kirishima could actually hear Mina's belly gurgling from where he was standing.

"Dude I think I can actually hear yer stomach gurglin'! This is pretty intense ain't it," Kirishima asked.

Mina nodded while she chugged her bottle down. One hand rested on her tummy and rubbed it softly up and down. It was beginning to look bloated from both the soda she's downed and all the bubbles filling her up. And the churning noises were only getting louder by the second.

She eventually had to pull away again and catch her breath. Only for a grizzly sounding burp to erupt out of her mouth with extreme force. Mina gasped when that one left her system then patted her belly and burped again. "Oooh dude I don't feel good," Mina complained and held her bloated tummy with both hands. She held a hand over her mouth and gave an incredibly thick closed mouth burp.

Kirishima frowned with concern for her girlfriend. "D'ya wanna stop? We can take a break or call it quits. I don't want'cha gettin' sick or anything."

But Mina shook her head. She opened her mouth to start speaking but ended up burping hard instead which made her cover her mouth. "Nuh uh. Plus ultra right? It's just some silly challenge. Nothing we can't-" Mina interrupted herself with a large burp then covered her mouth again. "...Unf...handle."

She brought the bottle stubbornly to her lips and was about to chug but had to stop and burp again. One thing was certain this challenge was making her incredibly gassy. But that didn't stop her.

Mina powered on through. She guzzled the drink down while the fizz in her belly intensified. Her stomach was expanding more from the carbonation and all the soda she was drinking to the point where her normally flat tummy was looking a little round behind her tight shirt.

She continued chugging with a fiery look of determination in her eyes.

Kirishima cheered her on inspired by that very determination. "You got this dude! What's a lil soda compared to a hero right?!"

...He got really inspired by her determination.

It was getting painful though. The churning bubbling in Mina's tummy was growing aggressive with a sickly acidity to it. It made her throat feel sour and raw with a light burning in her chest.

But still Mina chugged on without any signs of quitting.

Until she somehow managed to down every last drop of the bottle. After swallowing the rest down she flipped the bottle upside down and shook it to show not a drop fall out.

"Ha! Done...!" Mina panted confidently yet exhaustedly. Suddenly she dropped the bottle and her hands flew to her belly in time for the girl to unleash the single loudest and longest burp she'd ever uttered clocking in at ten seconds straight!

Kirishima fell in love with her all over again.

"...Dude. That was the manliest thing I've ever seen...!" he muttered in absolute awe.

Mina just gasped like she was out of breath then burped again.

"God I feel so bloated," Mina moaned and took a moment to massage her bloated tummy with both hands. But she managed a grin back at the camera. "Okay guys! Challenge beaten!" She paused to give a really deep closed mouth burp that rumbled heavily behind her lips. "Ungh...mostly. Anyway! If you have any other challenges you wanna see me or my boyfriend doing hit us up in the comments below! And as always th-aaAAAAAANKsss-for watching...!"

Kirishima snickered when Mina accidentally burped the word 'thanks' out but that seemed like as good a time as any to stop recording.

The second he did Kirishima put the phone in his pocket and helped Mina sit down on the grass so he could help her feel a little better. He very gently started to rub her tummy up and down while she leaned back and groaned.

"Ooooooh I don't feel good..." Mina groaned out. Her stomach gurgled thickly in agreement.

"I'll bet. That sounds gnarly..." Kirishima admitted. He gently rubbed over the rounded crest of Mina's stomach using the heel of his palm to knead into it as he rubbed. "Still. Ya did a real good job! That was so manly the way ya powered through yer own discomfort like that!"

Mina turned her head and held a fist against her mouth in time to let rip a big closed mouth burp that she could barely contain behind her lips. The sound rumbled in her mouth heavily for a few seconds and left her breezily blowing the gas off to the side. "Unnngh...urhp...I'd call it a draw really. The challenge is kinda kicking my butt right now..."

"Naw you got this," Kirishima encouraged her and kneaded an especially tense part of her belly. The burp that the pink girl released after that was so strong that even Kirishima could feel it reverberating in his own body.

"Ohhhh that felt good," Mina moaned palming the side of her tummy in a deeply satisfied way.

Kirishima grinned while he kneaded her belly some more to help work more gas out. "Hahah~ I love that."

"What me burping?"

"Naw! Like-well okay that's pretty awesome too-but like the way ya don't get all embarrassed by it even though we're out in public. It's so fearless and manly!"

Mina giggled and instantly regretted it when the giggles jiggled her tummy around and made her hiccup. She covered her mouth but managed a grin back at Kirishima. "Got a thing for tomboys do ya?"

The red-haired boy scratched his cheek and blushed lightly. "...Kinda."

"Well for the record I have a thing for manly boys like you. So..." Mina leaned over and kissed Kirishima's cheek making the boy blush even harder than he already was.

She grinned satisfied but her belly gave another painfully gaseous grumble that left her groaning with discomfort. "Ohhhh man that still feels rough..."

"Here lemme help," Kirishima said.

He eagerly kneaded into Mina's tummy sliding his hand under her shirt so he could knead his fingers directly against her soft pink stomach. His fingers were hardened ever so slightly by focusing his hardening quirk into them. Kirishima compressed them into the tightest part of Mina's belly hoping to unknot her stomach muscles.

But in the process of pressing into her belly like that he dislodged a sizable pressure pocket.

Mina lurched sharply when that happened and covered her mouth like she was about to be sick. Instead her hand was blown back as she let out a giant record breaking burp. It carried on for several seconds. Not as long as that ten second burp she gave when she finished the bottle but around there and arguably louder and gassier. In fact Kirishima could feel the gas exiting so hard from her stomach that he felt her flesh jiggle ever so slightly. The feeling had him blushing even harder.

When that enormous gas bubble had been dislodged from her tummy Mina gasped breathlessly like a weight had been lifted from her stomach. Then she slapped her belly with one hand and gave another huge burp. And with that came another long throaty burp. That massive displacement of air caused the rest of the air in her stomach to come rushing up.

After letting out one last especially lengthy burp Mina flopped backwards onto her back with her arms at her sides and sighed heavily.

"Hhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh...ohhhhh that feels soooooooo much better..."

Kirishima grinned a big fang-filled grin and gave her a thumbs up. "Dude that was epic!"

Mina smiled heavenly back at Kirishima. "Couldn't have done it without my manly man's help."

At this rate Kirishima was blushing so hard that his face was matching his red hair after a while.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

tuxedo iii, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader, mentions of previous jungkook x reader

summary: It’s the next morning. Your cat is still a man. Fuck. He still thinks he owns the place, including you. Sigh. Well, you still have to do your job, because, yikes, your cat-man has spent a small fortune on new clothes (spending like he’s got a black card, what’s up with that?). Ah, but... maybe both of you are starting to finally acknowledge that he might be a more man than cat – at least for the time being...?

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, mentions of the coronavirus pandemic; possibly full-on crack; mentions of and a tiny bit of smut (fem reader, spanking, doggy, unintentional??? voyeurism, dry humping / thigh riding); domestic and soft moments with your cat-man; non-idol!AU - cat!Yoongi x human!reader; ft slightly cocky Jeon Jungkook (+drama!!!) and bestfriend!Kim Seokjin; breaking of the fourth wall; are YOU a furry? yeah, I kinda think you are

*deep breath* I reference a certain boat that was stuck in the Suez Canal, Yoongi's livestream where he poked himself in the nose with the coffee straw, his love for tangerines, too many Twitch chat memes, that time his mom called him a boiled dumpling, 'BST' pink pajama Yoongi, DTS, TXT's 'Cat & Dog', etc...

–

part i | part ii

-

You woke up slowly. 

A perfect, peaceful morning. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Neck cradled by your memory foam pillow? Check. Back well supported by your soft mattress? Check. Not sleeping on your sofa and destroying your spine? Check. Hey, you’re moving up in life! Ah, what a normal day already. You opened your eyes a crack; vision blurred from the morning sunlight filtering through your curtains. Bundled in your minty-green duvet? Check. Wearing your extra soft black-and-white striped pajamas? Check. 

Large pale human hand firmly gripping your right titty? Check. 

Wait… 

What?

Your eyes snapped open and flew to your left. 

Min Yoongi's face was centimeters from yours, buried into your pillow, messy bedhead sticking out everywhere. Black choker with the tiny silver bell around his neck. Still had those black velvety pointed cat ears and glowing pale skin, pretty pink lips ever-so-slightly upturned, warm exhale against your ear. 

Your cat still a disturbingly handsome man?

Ah, yup, check. 

His hand was on your right breast, fingers molded to the soft curve. A quick glance and, whew, he was still fully dressed in his black t-shirt and sweatpants from yesterday. Yes, fully, completely dressed. Shit, what if he caught you staring? You quickly flickered your eyes up at the ceiling, hastily wiping the drool away from your mouth. Whoa there. That would be embarrassing if he caught that.

Also, kind of gross. Don’t be gross. Keep it together.

Hahaha…

Well, yup, this was still awkward, the whole hand-on-the-titty thing, hahaha, but not as awkward as it would be if, hahaha, you accidentally, oh, don't know, hahaha, got really, really, really disgustingly drunk and, hahaha, had somehow lost all impulse control and, hahaha, fucked your cat?

Man.

Cat-man. 

Hahaha, that would never happen. You’d make sure of that.

... 

Unless?

No, no, no, stop, he's your cat, your cat, he's literally been a (cat) man for one fucking day, albeit a incredibly hot, deliciously built (cat) man who put your facial massager on your nipple and let you touch his human dick in the shower and he was hard for a hot second, so... no, no, no, stop, you are not a desperate thot, get a fucking grip – well, you kind of are – but not him, for fuck’s sake, you still don't understand what the fuck is going on or if he even remotely likes you and, let's face it, he probably doesn’t because you almost paid a guy to chop off his nuts–

"Are you dying?"

You choked on air and lurched sharply at the sudden deep, raspy voice. The grip on your right breast tightened, preventing you from moving away. You did what any sensible human being would do in this situation and wheezed like you were on the verge of passing out. 

"Urk!"

"Do you have high blood pressure?" Yoongi yawned calmly, turning his face to the side to avoid breathing in your face, thereby pressing his body even closer to you. Your neck and ears heated to five billion degrees. "Your heart's beating abnormally fast. Maybe you should see a doctor."

You definitely needed to see a doctor for something as well as several gallons of holy water and a priest to get an exorcism for that horny demon inside you. 

"Y-Your hand!"

Yoongi grunted. "What about it?"

What about it???

"It's on my tits!" you squeaked.

Yoongi lifted his head, squinting. "It is." Then his head dropped and he closed his eyes again. 

HELLO, Min Yoongi? That's ALL you have to say???

"Is there a problem?"

IS THERE A PROBLEM???????

"I've always slept like this," he mumbled.

That's... true though. Your tuxedo cat, previously named Shooky until you realized he had his own name, did used to always sleep next to you, when he wasn’t trying to murder you by sitting on your chest, that is (he was adamant on letting you know when he needed breakfast). Usually, your cat was splayed out by your left side, his long body extended and pressed against you, his white, sock-like paws encircling your arm. Shooky had basically been a small furry heater that kicked you sometimes in his sleep. 

Keyword: small.

"Y-You w-were a cat!" you sputtered.

"I'm still a cat."

"No, you're a man! With arms!"

"The reach is a little farther. Who cares?"

WHO CARES???????

Before you could very loudly inform Yoongi who exactly cared – that’s you, by the way, yes, you – he wrapped his arms around you and yanked your body to his, turning you into a red-hot chili pepper with the amount of heat your face was now emitting. Then his free hand grabbed your other titty. Without asking! Without even so much as buying you dinner or, hell, giving you a goddamn cracker! You didn't need to be wined and dined, but at least a single fucking snack before using your tits like his own personal stress ball!

Yoongi pressed your back into his chest.

You froze. 

He pressed his crotch into your ass, shivering slightly.

Your soul left your body. 

"Ugh, this human body is terrible," Yoongi muttered. "Always so cold. I need this extra body heat or I'll die."

You'll die? YOU’LL DIE?

You were pretty sure that you were already dead. Rest in peace.

Hang on. 

Something was stuck in a very specific place, quite similar to a far-too-large boat in a narrow canal.

"Um."

Er...

"What?" your cat-man grunted.

"Your..." You gulped. "Dick."

"What about it?"

"You, uh... have morning wood."

"Is that a human euphemism?" he grumbled impatiently, clear annoyance in his tone. "I don't understand your species. Wouldn't it be easier to be straightforward and explain yourself clearly?"

A muscle in your eye twitched, reaching breaking point.

"Your dick is rock-hard and you're shoving it between my ass cheeks!"

"Yeah, so? It's cold too."

Your irritation fizzled out at Yoongi’s self-assured, completely calm response. In fact, he sounded borderline bored and exasperated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. His hard dick was cold, so he put it in the warmest place he could find, your ass, duh. Nothing weird about it, of course. Your mind reeled, unable to compute what the fuck was going on. Thus, your body did what it did best in these moments where you did not want to give a response that would most certainly expose you and your dire need to get dicked.

Not deal with it, of course.

You fainted.

-

"Fuck!"

You shot out of bed at the harsh yell, tangled in the covers, barely registering that Yoongi no longer had a death grip on your tits – in fact, he was no longer in bed at all – and stumbled towards the source of the sound, highly disoriented, your earlier fainting spell turning you into a bumbling mess.

Admittedly, not that different from your usual self.

(Ouch, roasted.)

"What, what, what?" you croaked, running into the doorframe of the bedroom and nearly taking yourself out. 

Might as well, maybe it would have been a blessing in disguise, considering the way your life was going. 

You finally tumbled your way to the kitchen, where your cat-man was hissing at the pan on the stove. 

"I was trying to make eggs," Yoongi spat, pointing accusingly at the frying pan. His ears were flat and his tail was sticking straight up. "And then it attacked me."

If you had three functioning brain cells, you would have remembered Yoongi putting his morning wood between your ass cheeks this morning, but alas, you only had two at the moment – you did run into the doorframe, might have lost one there – so instead you nudged him aside and rolled up your sleeves, taking the pan and shaking it so the eggs wouldn't burn. 

"Was it the oil? Sometimes it pops," you asked as Yoongi continued death glaring at the pan.

"I saw you doing this yesterday. You didn't seem bothered," he mumbled, finishing with a low, angry hiss as if the pan was sentient and mocking him. The oil popped and seared your forearm, but at this point you maybe had five hair follicles total on your arms with how many times hot oil had splattered in you. It used to bother you when you were a kid, but years of cooking had desensitized the feeling, turning it to nothing more than a mere annoyance. Yoongi stayed behind you, intermittently letting out hisses of rage as you cooked.

"I told you, my dad's a chef. You get used to it," you said, tipping the pan and flipping the thin egg pancake with ease. 

"That's bizarre," Yoongi muttered. "No normal animal gets used to pain."

Normality was starting to become a bit of a foreign concept to you.  As for being an animal, well…

You took the pan off the heat and rolled the egg onto a plate with a spare set of chopsticks, turning it into a log shape. A literal egg roll, ready to be sliced into bite-sized pieces. You took a sniff. It seemed to be seasoned already. Had Yoongi simply copied what you did yesterday? His observation skills were insane.

"Then again, you seem to enjoy–"

"Yoongi," you blurted, not wanting to know what he thought you seemed to enjoy, but very sure it was going to be one-hundred-percent embarrassing and only for you. "There's some leftover beef and vegetables in the fridge you can have with the egg and rice."

He raised his eyebrows. "Beef? Why didn't you say so earlier?"

Because I was asleep and maybe half-dead? "Did you brush your teeth?' you asked suddenly. 

Yoongi scowled. "Unfortunately."

"Right, so should I, goodbye now."

You marched away hurriedly, trying not to think about how your cat had surely witnessed you getting spanked while being fucked from behind by none other than, surprise, surprise, his not-so-favorite human being, Jeon Jungkook. Tattoo guy strikes again. The worst part was, you couldn't lock the door on your cat either, because then he would meow incessantly while you were getting deep-dicked and that was even worse. 

"Your cat really likes you, huh?" Jungkook mused as you yanked open the bedroom door to the black-and-white tuxedo furball. 

"Like is a strong word," you muttered at your cat, who yawned and sauntered past you to his cat tree, acting like he owned the damn place. 

"I like you."

"Hah... wait, what?"

Jungkook grinned as your eyes found his. Took a while. You were a little distracted by his nakedness. His tattoos up his right arm. His tan skin. His muscles. His white teeth biting on his lower lip, tiny mole underneath flashing. His long black hair, framing dark chocolate eyes and teasing, cocked eyebrow. 

"I like you," he repeated, voice deep and sexy.

You turned red and made the most coherent noise you could. 

“... Urk?”

“Noona.”

Why did he look so fucking hot and disrespectful at the same time when saying an honorific?

Jungkook came up to you, hand cupping your head and tangling his fingers in your hair. He brought his face close to yours, lips brushing against your swollen ones, taking your breath away.

"Wanna go back to me spanking you while you get off on my dick?"

Respectfully, of course. 

"How much rice do you want?"

You started, poking yourself in the nose with your toothpaste-covered toothbrush and smearing mint up your nostril – almost as bad as poking a coffee straw up your nose during a livestream in front of millions of people, yikes – as Yoongi appeared behind you, breaking you out of the memory. Your cat-man watched you with mild disgust and displeasure as you coughed and dunked your head into the sink, hurriedly rinsing off your burning nose.

"Whatever, I'll just fill it halfway."

And he left you sputtering, pajamas and hair soaking wet in your haste.

Awesome. 

-

“I’m ordering some groceries,” you announced in between bites of rice and egg. You tapped lightly at the phone screen as you spoke. Green onions, tofu, cucumbers… “Do you want anything?”

“Meat.”

You swiped rapidly and added packages of chicken, pork, and beef into your cart. Why the fuck not? You like meat. All kinds of–

“Yes, Yoongi, I’m getting meat. Anything else?”

“What else is there?”

You made a face and handed him your phone. “All sorts of things. Household products too, in case you don’t want to smell like my soap.”

“Your soap is preferable,” he said absentmindedly, scrolling through the online grocery app. You continued eating, shoving things in your mouth and none of it dick. Sad. At least it tasted good. Your cat-man had seasoned the egg well. You jumped as Yoongi spoke again. “I want these.” He turned the phone around.

You squinted at the screen, staring at a picture of orange balls. “Tangerines? Why?”

He turned the phone back to him. “They’re small, round, and look tasty.”

You blinked at him, then shrugged. “Sure, why not? I guess your palette might have changed. Try whatever you want.”

He pursed his lips and pressed a few buttons as you ate. You realized you needed to order more groceries now that your cat was a man eating your human food and no longer a cat eating his rather expensive cat food. Sigh. You had put Shooky’s cat bowls in a cabinet earlier this morning before sitting down to eat. It seemed weird leaving them out on the floor like that. Kind of offensive, maybe, now that your cat was a man and all…

“Okay, I ordered it.”

“Ah, okay, that’s good. They’ll probably come later this week.”

-

After breakfast, you spent nearly half an hour with Yoongi trying to pick out something for him to watch from your various streaming services, only for him to select a historical drama series. Like what? You cat (man) wanted to watch historical drama out of all things? Instead of learning about the modern world, he wanted to watch a depiction of the past?

Whatever, it had seventy-seven episodes, so at least he would be occupied for a while.

You let him be and went to your computer, intending on getting some editing done. Sure, the universe decided your cat was a man now, but you still needed to pay for said cat-man’s existence. You still didn’t know what you were going do to with all that cat food, cat toys, cat tree… ugh, this was all a problem for future you, not present you.

Present you needed to splice five-hundred images of PepeHands together and overlay it over a League of Legends one-shot compilation.

Uh, so, it was this meme of a green frog named Pepe holding up his anthropomorphic hands in despair, therefore coining the term PepeHands for a particular Twitch chat emote… never mind, it just meant you were spending some time video editing for a gaming YouTuber and it required concentration, shitty memes, and well-timed captions. And you were getting paid good money to do this.

Yeah, it’s a weird world.

You sat at your desktop and got to work, doing the rough cuts of the video first. Thankfully, the YouTuber had already sent you the timestamps of the noteworthy moments, therefore making your job a lot easier. You spent several hours compiling the clips before adding your extra flair and effects. You had a library of images and sound bites that you commonly used (including Goofy singing Evanescence's ‘Bring Me to Life’) and was in the middle of grayscaling a video clip and adding the familiar audio of all around me are familiar faces before being scared shitless.

“Woof.”

You swore someone was singing ‘Mad World’ as they were narrating your life right now.

“Gah!”

You jerked in your seat to see Yoongi leaning over behind you, eyebrow raised as you gawked at him.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that!” you exclaimed, pulling back an earcup of your headset.

He frowned. “How can I sneak up on you?” He flicked the silver bell on the black choker around his neck, making it jingle cheerfully. “You put stupid thing on me, remember?”

You winced. “Well, I’d take it off, but there’s some kind of voodoo magic on that shit – and hey, don’t change the subject! You have that weird cat thing where you’re silent no matter what.”

Yoongi looked unbothered. “Weird cat thing? Thought you said I was a man?”

“Thought you said you were a cat?” you shot back.

You glared at him and he gave you a blank expression. Then he cocked his head to your desk.

“Your phone is flashing.”

You jerked your head to see your phone screen flicker. You grabbed it off you desk and unlocked it, checking your messages. Five messages from – ah, but of course – your best friend. Kim Seokjin.

LET ME SEE YOUR CAT

LET ME SEE YOUR CAT

LET ME SEE YOUR CAT

LET ME SEE YOUR CAT

LET ME SEE YOUR CAT

You pursed your lips. With the pandemic and all, you hadn’t visited Seokjin in forever, but every week he would text you, asking for a photo of your cat and he would send you a picture of his sugar glider. With every week being the same and nothing interesting of note happening, it was hard to think of conversation topics. Therefore, Seokjin and you came up with this weekly event so your friendship wouldn’t deteriorate. Also, both of you were serious introverts, so he spent most of this pandemic playing MapleStory while you spent most of it on your couch watching Netflix with your cat. It was a miracle you two hadn’t morphed into actual potatoes yet.

You glanced at Yoongi, who was inspecting his nails and picking at them. You frowned and batted at his hand. He frowned back and smacked yours, harder. You glared at him. He gave you a vacant stare, as if he had done nothing.

“Why are you picking at your cuticles?” you muttered, going back to your phone and sending Seokjin an old picture of Shooky. You couldn’t exactly send him a picture of current Shooky. He was… well, currently not a cat. You stared at the picture of the fluffy tuxedo cat curled into a ball, asleep in your lap on the couch.

That moment wasn’t even that long ago.

Somehow, it felt like ages since you had last petted that furry butt.

“Hm, dunno. Occupies my hands, I guess,” Yoongi replied distractedly.

“Well, you shouldn’t. It’s not good for you.” You noticed you had another message from the local delivery service, saying a package had arrived at your doorstep. You stood, placing your phone on the desk and looked at Yoongi, who was staring at his old cat tree, the one by the window. When he was a cat, he used to poke his head between the curtains and look outside, watching the birds. It was his favorite haunt.

Now…

“Why’d you say woof?” you asked abruptly, giving him a quizzical look. “I thought you were a cat.”

Yoongi shrugged, tearing his eyes away from the cat tree to give you an uninterested stare. “Thought it would surprise you more. You’ve heard meow for long enough.”

You furrowed your brow. “Why would you want to surprise me?”

He shrugged again. “I was bored.”

“… You were bored so you decided to sneak up and scare the shit out of me?”

He paused, black tail swishing back and forth, pointed ears perked. Then he nodded.

“Yup.”

Sigh.

-

You lugged in the huge cardboard box, Yoongi standing out of sight of the front door as you huffed and puffed with your weak arms. Okay, it wasn’t even that big, but it was quite heavy and you weren’t exactly John Cena. Your arms were about as strong as a bowl of overcooked ramyeon noodles and that was putting it kindly. You weren’t the working out type. People who worked out diligently were dog people. People who preferred sleeping as their primary workout regimen had cats. What were the kinds of people who had cat-men then? The kind of people who like sleeping, but also needed a…

(You already know the answer.)

Yoongi snapped the door closed the second you managed to pull it on far enough to do so.

“You look like a boiled dumpling,” he commented.

“At least I’m delicious food,” you wheezed, inspecting the box. You recognized the clothing brand. “Is this the stuff your ordered? How did it come so fast?”

“I selected next-day delivery.”

You paled.

“I need clothes as soon as possible, don’t I? Or should I go back to being naked, since you’re a pervert?”

You choked, ears burning. “I’m not a pervert!”

“Mhm.”

You tried not to think about the hit on your wallet as you grabbed your keys from the side table and opened the box, seeing all the plastic packages inside. Monotone, in white or black. Figures. You tipped the box to the side and the clothes spilled out, tumbling all over the floor. It took a firm shake to dump it all on the ground. You got on your hands and knees to spread them out, tossing the cardboard aside carelessly to shift through the items. Hopefully, Yoongi had read the listings and selected the correct sizes. From your brief glance, you noticed the tops were quite oversized. Maybe he liked that fit? He had been quite a fluffy cat.

You spotted the packing slip with all the prices listed. You fished it out and then heard a thunk-thunk-thunk, the sound of cardboard on hardwood. Huh?

You looked up to see Yoongi swatting the box around.

“What… are you doing?”

He shrugged. “Investigating.”

You blinked. “Investigating what?”

“Don’t know. I simply feel the need to investigate, thus I am doing so.”

You stared at Yoongi for several minutes as he continued to… uh, investigate (???) the cardboard box, holding it this way and that, smacking it around, watching the flaps bounce in the air as it rolled. His velvety ears perked upwards, sleek black tail swishing with interest.

His expression was completely neutral.

For the first time since becoming a human, you thought Yoongi was more cat than man.

“Uh… okay…”

You glimpsed down to the paper in your hands, seeing the total cost.

You felt the color drain out of your face.

My… wallet…

F in the chat.

You fainted.

-

You felt someone poking you in the head.

“Are you dead?”

You gasped and jerked up like a drown victim coming up for air, still in mild shock of the sudden financial hit of your cat becoming a man. It was okay. You weren’t poor. You just didn’t expect Yoongi to be a shopping like he owned a fucking black card.

“Did I spend too much?”

You snapped out of your stunned state at his soft tone. Yoongi wasn’t looking at you. He was kneeling on top of the pile of clothes, dark eyes on the paper in your shaking hands. With a start, you realized his words were heavy with guilt, his ears pointing downwards and tail tucked against the ground.

“No,” you said quickly, putting the receipt down. “No, Yoongi. I asked you to buy clothes, remember? And besides, it’s better for you to buy things you like and are interested in, rather than me wasting money on things you’ll never wear.”

He raised his head a little, eyes darting from your face to your hands.

You smiled at him, reaching up to pat his head and stroke the fur on his ears. “Hey, don’t worry. It’s only money. Money will never be more important to me than you, okay?”

For a second, you saw something flicker in Yoongi’s eyes. It was so fast that you barely caught it. Relief? Gratitude? Fondness? Then he ticked his head out of your hand, fair cheeks flushing pink.

“You… you don’t have to do that,” he muttered.

“O… oh.” For some reason, you felt a pang in your chest at his words. “R-right.”

Yoongi made eye contact with you, dark brown orbs guarded. He spoke quietly, without emotion.

“Do you wish this never happened?”

“What?” You furrowed your brows. “What do you mean?”

He gestured to himself, waving a hand up and down carelessly. “This. Human me.”

Human me.

You answered instantly.

“No.”

Yoongi gave you the disbelieving side-eye.

You let out a sheepish puff of air. “I always kind of wished you were human.” You scratched the back of your head aimlessly. “No one listened to me like you did. Even if I was having the shittest day of all time, you always made it better. You were the best cat ever.” You chuckled, smiling up at him. “Sure, your species changed, but you’re still the same, right?”

His eyes shifted, his cheeks still a light pink. “I’m still a cat,” he mumbled awkwardly.

You raised your brows. “Mhm, is that why you were playing with the box?”

“I wasn’t playing with the box,” Yoongi huffed, sounding insulted.

“Then I’ll break it down and recycle it.”

“No,” he snapped firmly. “It’s useful. We’re keeping it.”

“We don’t need a box, Yoongi.”

He tutted. “Hmph, humans. So wasteful. A perfectly good box should be reused.”

“Right.”

You tried to hide your laugh as Yoongi refused to look you in the eye.

-

You left Yoongi to examine his new wardrobe on the floor. You tried to pick them up but he stubbornly remained on the pile of clothes, not letting you move them. When you stood up to leave, you asked him when he was going to move – he replied with, "When it feels right", just cat things, you supposed – and hurried off to export the edited video you were working on earlier. The due date was today and you had to review it for quality.

A certain quality. 

A certain quality of... of... 

Needing the money.

Because your cat (man) had spent fat chunk of it on clothes, only to be more interested in the box they came in and sitting on said clothes rather than the actual items themselves. 

Sigh. 

-

"I ordered the wrong color."

"Oh?" you muttered distractedly, clocking on the export button. You'd been going cross-eyed for the past two or three hours – had it really been that long? shit – and checked your phone to see Gukmul, Seokjin's white sugar glider, peering up at the camera on a white fluffy blanket. You smiled, typing a response to praise his cuteness, completely ignoring the fact that Seokjin had also stuck his handsome face in the photo, smiling with a thumbs-up next to his pet. 

The reply was instant. 

hello, acknowledge my BEAUTIFUL FACE

You deliberately didn't answer right away to piss Seokjin off even more. 

"What's wrong with it?" you asked, looking up. 

Your jaw dropped. 

You dropped your phone. 

Yoongi, your cat-man with excellent reflexes, made absolutely no move to catch it. 

It smacked you in the calf and hit your toes – fucking ow, holy shit – before clattering to the floor. You had a protective phone case on it with a cute tuxedo cat graphic. The screen wouldn't crack with the protector on it. In this moment, however, you didn't give a shit about your smartphone, Kim Seokjin, or even the blinding pain in your foot. Nope. 

You were ogling at Min Yoongi in pink silk pajamas.

-

We interrupt your regularly scheduled program to–

Oi!

No, don't you dare scroll past! You think you're clever or something?! Hm? Advertisements always happen at the most crucial parts, you say? 

This is just an ad? 

Look here, Lemona Vitamin C Powder can provide a lot of benefits, including providing natural energy and boosting your immune system in, say, a worldwide pandemic–

STOP TRYING TO SCROLL PAST!!!

-

Jeon Jungkook stared at his phone. 

At a very specific number. 

He put it down, sighing a little, looking out the window instead. It was a nice day, but he couldn't enjoy it the way it was meant to be enjoyed. Pandemic and all that. He frowned, looking at the urban jungle surrounding him. Had he made a mistake moving here to the big city? Sometimes he wondered. Back then, he had moved to finish school and pursue his ambitions. Back then, his choice had seemed full of opportunities, but now.

What did he have, really?

A tiny apartment with a kind and understanding landlord. The world at his fingertips from his computer. Still a decent amount of savings left. Online courses that he needed to finish to get his film degree. 

Loneliness.

He delved into his memories, smiling at the recollection of confused looks, awkward smiles, indignant huffs. So very unlike him to tease so much, but it was too fun and he hadn't felt the usual nervousness and shyness he had around others. There was something comforting about that smile, that apartment, and that fluffy tuxedo cat that loved to interrupt everything. 

He shouldn't have played it off.

He shouldn't have distracted.

Not after he admitted it.

"I like you."

Jungkook said it to the air, to the memory. So vivid that he reached out to touch those lips, but then it all disappeared, just like that. 

Ah.

He looked at the back of his phone, wondering. But now he was too nervous and shy to pick it up again. Why was that? When he was there, being seen by those surprised eyes, he could do and say shameless things. But far away, when he was alone, Jungkook was hesitating, suddenly afraid.

Sigh. 

-

You sneezed. 

Very loudly and jerking your head away from your cat-man in luxurious pink silk, jamming your nose into your elbow.

Yoongi raised an eyebrow. 

You sniffed, rubbing your nose. 

"Someone must be thinking about me..." you muttered. 

Yoongi looked down, plucking the collar of the pajamas. "The cotton shirts are the same size, but for some reason this one fits tighter. Why is that? Is there no regulated sizing in human fashion?"

Dude, be glad you're not a girl, you thought dryly. "Might be the fabric," you coughed distractedly. Distractedly because you were staring at quite possibly the most gorgeous man in the history of men and you stared at a lot of men in your short lifetime, so you had experienced eyeballs.

Wait. 

Man or cat-man?

Well, Yoongi was definitely the most gorgeous cat-man considering you were pretty sure there was only one in current existence.

His pointed ears stood straight up in interest, black hair messy from taking clothes on and off, fair cheeks and nose flushed pink, perhaps from physical exertion. Dark brown eyes sheepish, not quite looking at you. The black leather choker stood out on his neck, silver bell gleaming against his collarbones. The material was a mauve-pink silk, clinging to his lean body, showing off his shoulders and long limbs. The button-up shirt created a rather deep v-neckline, a sliver of pale chest visible. And his legs! His slim legs reminded you of a nimble dancer, ending in fuzzy black slippers. 

There was a weird lump in one of the pant legs, going down his thigh. 

Whoa. 

"W-Why did you pick them?" you tried to ask in the least awkward way possible, attempting – and failing – to not to stare at his delectable thighs. 

Yoongi shrugged. "They looked like the ones you have. I meant to get black, but I suppose I didn't read the listing closely enough. They're comfortable though," he mused before making a face. Your eyes bulged as there was a sudden jerk in his pants, creating a large tent in the crotch. 

Alarms sounded off in your head, arousal shooting up like a rocket. 

Oh. 

Oh??? 

Oh!!!!!!!

"My tail is stuck," Yoongi grunted, lowering the back of the pink silk pants. The sleek black cat tail slid out, swishing in the air, tent in his pants gone. 

Oh…

Right. The tail.

Because he's a cat... man.

Your inner thot was sad. Your dignity smacked you upside the head, highly disappointed in you for falling for that, then calmly shot down your arousal rocket with your shame. Oof.

"Can you show me how to sew so I can fix my own clothes from now on?" Yoongi asked as he readjusted the front of the silk shirt. 

You bent down to pick up your phone, trying to do something with your face and hands to disguise your embarrassment and burning ears. "Yeah, of course." You placed it on your desk and turned back to face him. 

Yoongi was right next to you. 

Literally so close that you could feel his body heat. 

"... Urk!"

You jumped in your seat, banging your knee against your desk and howling in pain, computer chair rolling and making you lose your balance, ass about to slip before Yoongi grabbed your chair and shoved it into the table, making you trip and fall back into the seat, head hitting the headrest a little too hard, seeing stars and rubber duckies for a second. 

Wait, were they rubber duckies? They were white and glittery, almost as if they were made from snow…

Yoongi slapped you in the face.

“Ow!”

You rubbed your cheek, blinking rapidly to clear your vision before glaring at him.

“Checking if you were alive,” was his placid response.

Alright, it wasn’t that hard, but the unexpectedness of it still hurt. You frowned, only for the pain to slowly melt away, quickly being replaced by something else as you realized Yoongi was still half-leaning over you, a knee on your computer gaming chair to prevent it from rolling. The sting in your knee was temporarily forgotten. Yoongi spoke again, his voice low and deep, almost a sensual purr.

“You hit yourself pretty hard.”

He doesn’t know what’s he’s doing. It’s just a coincidence. A kitty-incidence, Seokjin would say.

Your eyes widened as Yoongi closed in, peering at your unfocused gaze. Now you could see down his shirt. Holy shit. Were you so deprived that you were getting mad horny from seeing Yoongi’s fucking clavicle and sternum?

Is that even a question?

Yes.

Yes, you were.

“You look like you did last night.”

“What?” you breathed, still unabashedly looking down his shirt.

“Your pupils are dilated.”

You froze. His cool fingertips were on your neck.

“Heartrate increased.”

You wanted to pull back, say, no, wait, don’t do that, but Yoongi was too close and his exhale was too feathery, brushing against your lips, and you couldn’t move, trapped in your chair, between him wrapped in pink silk and your mind reeling, him still playing fucking doctor while you were trying not to jump his half-covered ass.

“And that smell.”

You finally tore your gaze away, eyes drifting up to his.

You swallowed.

“S… smell?”

Oh no.

Oh no, no, no.

Ohnoohshitwhatifhecansmellmypus–

Yoongi’s eyes narrowed, surveying you closely. He was so close you couldn’t see his lips, only his dark brown orbs. He didn’t say anything. He smelled like your soap, reminding you of his naked body pressed against you in the shower. Your heartbeat was leaping to your throat, threatening to choke you with your own horniness. Honestly, at this point, would you even be surprised?

You chuckled nervously, clinging onto your last shreds of self-preservation, which, admittedly, were rapidly yeeting out of your hands.

“Hahaha… but you’re… a cat… yeah?”

Right?

Seconds passed.

Right???

Minutes passed.

RIGHT???????

Yoongi’s lashes lowered, not quite looking at your eyes. Staring at your lips.

“I’m a man too,” he whispered softly.

Your eyes widened.

Yoongi kissed you.

You were so shocked that you swore your eyes nearly left your head.

It was a soft kiss, his eyes closed, tilting his head slightly to fit better against yours, pressing you back into your chair. Your head hit the headrest and you gasped, your tongue lightly flicking his lips and they parted, his own tongue sliding against yours, gentle licks, your brain malfunctioning, but body remembering, hands coming up to grab his shirt and yank him closer, pressing back against him. He backed up a little at your suddenness, exhaling hard. Your eyes snapped open, suddenly aware of how forceful you were.

Yoongi looked away, pointed black ears flicking back and forth uneasily.

You kissed your cat. Man. Cat-man.

He’s been a man for not even two days and you just tried to make out with him like a demented beast!

“A-ah, Yoongi, no, I’m so sorry, I-I… please, I didn’t mean to…” you stuttered, letting go of him quickly, but also not wanting to let go, but you should, your hands getting confused by your mental signals, repeatedly clasping and unclasping the pink silk, not realizing that he wasn’t even trying to move away.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” Yoongi said slowly.

You clutched his shirt, staring at your white knuckles, unable to look at him directly.

“I’m sorry, it’s just… you’re so handsome, but I’m your owner… and I cracked…”

“What you are is a desperate, sexually deprived human.”

You jerked your head up, seeing his unreadable expression. “I-It’s been over a year–”

All of a sudden, Yoongi lowered his knee and grabbed you by the ass, scooting you down on the rolling chair. You yelped at the swift movement, gasping as your crotch collided with his thigh, wincing as you heard the squelch of your panties jamming into your soaked core.

Yikes.

Welp, you can’t hide that shit now.

“You like things like this, don’t you?” Yoongi murmured.

Your cheeks heated. “T…Things like w-what…?”

Oh, you knew what. You knew very well what, but you also couldn’t form coherent sentences.

His fingers sank into your ass and he pressed you into his thigh, rolling it into your heat. The whines tore out of your throat involuntarily, grabbing his arm and staring up at him with shaking eyes, seeing his curious gaze looking down at you.

“B-But, Yoongi… I’m your o-owner,” you panted, resolve slipping with every second, your hips already rocking into his thigh, the slippery thin fabric doing nothing to hide his lean muscle, your own thighs clamping around his leg. “I’m supposed to t-take care of y-you…”

And last more than two days, fucking shit, get it together!

But you couldn’t get it together, especially not as Yoongi’s voice dropped to a lower octave, one side of his lips curving upwards.

“It’s a little different now, isn’t it?” he drawled softly, lashes lowering, eyebrows raising, his black hair darkening his gaze. “Since I am now capable to take care of you too.”

You whimpered, losing it.

Just started freely humping his leg, self-preservation completely gone. Did he even know what he was capable of, really? Did he have any idea what he could do? Surely not.

Surely, he had no idea how good he could make you feel.

Yoongi bit the side of his lip, frowning. “How will can I make it feel better? I’m only cop…” He trailed off, furry ears anxiously flicking.

You tugged on his arm, getting his attention. “Angle your leg a little more downwards… Y-Yeah, like that…” He did as you instructed, his thigh now pressing down on your clit and your rocking hips moving faster, clinging to his arm and setting your jaw, moaning at the added pleasure. “A-ah… yeah, fuck… yes, I c-can… like this…”

“You can what?” Yoongi breathed, watching your face closely, firmly holding the armrests of the chair so it wouldn’t slide.  

Your head tipped back a little, bucking harder into his thigh, so wet your juices were soaking through your leggings and drenching the pink silk, turning it darker, the strong scent of your sweet arousal clearly evident. Your eyes drifted to Yoongi’s dark orbs covered by black hair, vision hazy, noticing the slight inquisitive upturn of his upper lip. There was no point in hiding it anymore.

“Can cum, Yoongi, fuck, I’m going to cum…” you moaned, inhaling his scent, his presence, saying his name and looking up at him, the stimulation and touch of another enough to get you there, eyelids fluttering as your orgasm swept down, taking you away and filling you with serene satisfaction, crashing waves soaring through you, washing away the sand of your dry spell, a different kind of euphoria than when you were on your own, pulling Yoongi close, kissing him deeply, breathing hard.

“Y… Yoongi…”

“Was it nice?” he murmured. “Was I what you needed?”

“Yeah…” You kissed his soft lips again, semi-breathless. “I–” The wave of guilt came now, your words dropping, brows furrowing, a sharp pang in your chest. Rising, rising. Panic. Yoongi lowered his head, black hair and soft pointed ear rubbing against your eyebrow, nuzzling your cheek. Once. Twice. Again, headbutting you lightly, smoothing the worry away from your forehead, a small laugh bubbling from your throat.

“What are you doing?” you chuckled, patting his arm, smoothing out the wrinkles you had made while furiously humping him. Your eye caught the dark mark now on one of his thighs. Welp. You lasted less than ten minutes.

Pink pajama Yoongi was dangerous.

“You liked this,” he mumbled. “When you were upset.”

You chuckled, instinctively reaching up and caressing his velvety ear. “You were a little smaller then.”

“Only a little.”

He slowed until he came to a full stop, dark eye staring into yours, cheek to cheek.

“I have to look after you, my clumsy human.”

-

part iv

--

masterpost

[jiminrings]

why do i feel like even if tae is the one who's injured AND caught between stem koo and senior oc's tension, jungkook would STILL be the one who's crying

cold senior!y/n x stem major!koo masterlist :D

there's fINALLY some sort of peace and redemption between them

taehyung has never been indirectly involved in a palpable situation like this

the last time he was involved in anything remotely close to this, it had something to do with his field trip in second grade

whew god that was a rEALLY pressuring experience for him

it was a split vote to whether they should go to a strawberry field or a newly-opened futuristic kid-friendly interactive dinosaur museum SLASH theme park!!!!!!!

then taehyung picked the strawberry farm that was about 70% dirt

tae's put into a situation again and he doesn't know how to act lmao

"y'okay sweetheart? what's your relation to them?" the kind nurse that's obviously the maternal figure of the emergency ward asks him as she assesses him, a bit of a queue before he could get his leg patched up

he is beyond glad that she asked :D

tae's here to get his leg casted and entertain himself for the meantime!!! his fun isn't exactly correlated to that brooding fucking stem nerd's definition of it!!!

taehyung points to you directly, a cheeky grin on his face as you tilt your head in alert from your seat beside him

"she's my girlfriend!"

you chuckle at his playfulness and even the nurse does so with how proud he sounded, about to scribble it down on her clipboard when someone clearly sounds panicked about it

"she's not his girlfriend," jungkook rises from his slouched position on his seat, wide eyes fixated on the nurse as he shakes his head, trying to make her believe him

it isn't true!!!! that's misinformation!!! that's a crime!!!!

tae snaps his fingers, solemnly shaking his head

"right, my bad!! the two of us aren't in a relationship. actually, the three-..."

god oW

jungkook can't help but whack the back of taehyung's head, their boundary from being semi-strangers in your year you see like twice a day now crossing into semi-friends who aren't reserved with each other jUST because of kook's smack

that's a silent understanding, basically

tae smacks jungkook right back, only stopping on bickering when you intentionally clang your watch on the bedframe to spook them, exiting from the curtain so you could talk with the nurse

being caught in the middle of things cOULD really be fun!!! tae should get involved more often

"so tHIS is why you were outside y/n's dorm when i gave yoongi the cookies!!"

"... you know?"

kook freezes at the possibility that for some way he can't think of, taehyung somehow knows what happened between the two of you

was that why he just hAPPENED to drop by cookies when he was talking with yoongi??

yeah uhm not really

"no. i just know that yoongi hung you out to dry," he snorts because as he recalls it, jungkook looked as pale as a ghost

he didn't really plan to arrive at that time either!!! taehyung just wanted to knock on your door and hopefully drop you his treats then he'll be off his way

he didn't exactly expect to walk in on yoongi looking like he's gonna deck jungkook if only he hadn't yelled out his senior's name

see? it's like the universe just wants taehyung to be at the right places at the wrong times in order for them to eventually fall into place

okay he kinda did take a major L for having his ankle busted but that only means that you and jungkook (even if he doesn't know anything) better make up!!!

“is it bad that i wanted yoongi to punch me that time?” jungkook wonders out loud and he almost wishes he hadn’t, getting an immediate reaction of agreement

“i’ll fill in for him!!” tae half-jokes, getting yet another smack to his shoulder and at that rate, they’d be brothers by tomorrow lmao

“anyways,” he sighs as he leans back to his pillow, keeping his foot elevated. technically, this isn’t his business at all, but what could he do?? he’s sort-of-involved now and jungkook looks like he’s gonna cry out of all people, “you just want yoongi to deck you because that’d absolve you of your guilt.”

kook sighs at that, gripping his hair to keep himself from crying

“but i already know i’m guilty. not only with yoongi, but y/n especially!!”

he whistles at that, getting a mental image with your fists balled because he’s hung around enough practices to photograph all of you for the school paper, knowing that you dO pack a lot of power

“so them decking you is the only way you would feel guiltless?”

jungkook shifts at that, murmuring his answer to the question he’s got thrown

“w-well getting my apology accepted by them would be much appreciated.”

taehyung practically spoon-feeds the answer jungkook need to hear, shrugging carelessly as he watches the boy’s turmoil

god what does he dO?? this is his first interaction with you ever since the incident and he doesn’t know how to act

of all places and scenarios, it just hAD to be in the hospital because stoopid taehyung here decided to run to you while in the rain

as if on cue do you return to the curtained area with a nurse, forms between your fingers

“time to get your x-ray done, tae,” you almost sing-song to him in cheer, being relieved that things were picking up faster than you intended it to

you pat him on the head in an attempt at affection, oblivious to the curious glances that jungkook gives you while he assists the nurse in transferring taehyung to the wheelchair

it’s not until the curtain closes again and taehyung’s gone that you move, hand outstretched to give something to jungkook

.... which is just his share of taehyung’s forms that he needed to fill out so you could get on faster

the two of you are sitting beside each other, chairs close but not exactly close, clipboard in hand and taehyung’s phone at the middle edge of the hospital bed so you could copy his information

jungkook kNOWS he should be focusing on writing tae’s blood type right now, but the spur of the moment nudges him on entirely

"i'm sorry. i'm so, so sorry."

he squeaks and he has to breathe out after that

well there it goes :-)

you knew that the day wouldn’t have finished without jungkook’s input, having avoided him long enough that you didn’t know what to feel

were you expecting an apology from him??? uhm not exactly

are you commending him for apologizing??? not at all!! thanking someone for apologizing over what they’ve done to you in the first place is just a new low

“i know i can’t take back what i said now, but i truly didn’t mean it. i-i was just so confused but — b-but i’m not making excuses!! what i did was beyond shitty of me.”

oh hold on a second

that’s the first time you heard jungkook cuss

you wring your hands as you try to absorb his apology as much as possible without feeling awkward

ok you’re not as good for tHIS type of confrontation

it’s not the first time you’ve been wronged but this is perhaps the first time someone owned up to their wrong and apologize for it face-to-face

,,,,,, and not just because yoongi gave them a piece of his mind

yoongi likes fighting battles for you at times, even if you don’t necessarily ask him to

you appreciate it, but you kNOW he did not get jungkook off the hook so easily!!!!

you honestly thought that with his temper, he would’ve punched jungkook even if it was gonna make you mad

“it’s totally up to you if you don’t want to forgive me, b-but i figured i could die trying, y’know? you can reject me a couple hundred times and i’ll retry a couple thousand.”

jungkook adds and it makes the corner of your mouth raise in the tiniest most miniscule way

he knows that not only does he need to apologize with words, he also nEEDS to make it up to you with his actions!!! that’s why he plans on-

you pause your writing on the form, the act of you doing so making him freeze all the same as you try to carry on with speaking as inaudible as possible

"well you know now. i like you, that was my fault," you offer in response to his apology, coughing when you realize your mistake. "i liked you, i mean."

ok he deserved that

jungkook knows you probably figured out the hyeji situation already through yoongi, cutting his explanations down because you don’t even wanna hear her name

was it the truth? do you really not like jungkook anymore?

....

......

.........

you simmer in the own silence you’ve created, only being broken when jungkook shyly murmurs

"can't you like me some more?"

you snort at what seemed to be his playful suggestion, chuckling to yourself

jungkook was only hALF-kidding and he bows his head in embarrassment over your reaction, the pen in his hand feeling extremely light with how his hand’s trembling

you resume your writing wordlessly, not even daring to look at your right because jungkook’s trying to make himself as small as possible too

the words are just dying to fall out from his mouth, an unhinged trap he could no longer regulate when it comes to you

"you're loveable. extremely loveable."

jungkook says out of nowhere and you falter at writing taehyung’s supposed food allergies, a quiet curiosity to your words

"how would you know that?"

there’s no thought process behind it as he speaks surely this time, only taking the slightest bit of courage to look at you from the corner of his eye

"because it's you."

,,,,,

HOW are you supposed to react to that,,,

the curtains peek open and a grinning taehyung on a wheelchair estatically waves his hand

you and jungkook split from each other even if you haven’t been that close enough immediately, thankful for the welcome interruption

tae outstretches his arms for you to hoist him up the bed and you agree instantly, oblivious to the fact that he’s sticking his tongue out to jungkook who’s giving him a mean glare for his playfulness

his x-rays are all finished and he’s just waiting for the doc to come and interpret them (even if it’s beyond obvious that his ankle’s broken!!!!) so he could get on with wrapping his leg with a cast

jungkook takes this as a chance to rise up from his seat, snatching the opportunities he can within the timeframe

"what do you guys want from the cafeteria?"

tae beams at that, grateful because fINALLY someone’s asked him

"ooh!! i want-"

"what would you like, y/n?"

jungkook continues as he effectively interrupts taehyung who’s squinting and looks beyond offended ay the moment

his motive is buying <3 you <3 dinner!! not mr. ankle-breaker over here

you catch on to what he’s trying to do immediately, rolling your eyes with a hint of amusement when you plop back to your chair

“i'll have what taehyung wants.”

huh....

so he has no choice then but to ask,.,.,

jungkook clears his throat, his lips curved to a smile but his eyes looking the furthest thing from friendly

"what would you like,,,, taehyung?"

the boy pretend to be deep in thought just to waste kook’s time even more, even throwing in the humming to sell the idea

he’s been humming for half a minute now

“pasta. i want pasta. like, the most expensive pasta they have,” he nods at the amazement he has for himself, sneaking a look to a narrow-eyed jungkook

“c’mon, kook. think about y/n. she’s getting what i’m getting!!”

jungkook’s eyes instantly become brighter, realization sweeping over his features as he tries to hurry because you might be hungry at this point

“right, of course!! i’ll even get dessert :D”

well wasn’t tHAT easy hee-hee

hey maybe getting your ankle busted does lead to better things!!!

jungkook’s never been more excited to pay for overpriced pasta in cash (!!!) and carry up multiple paper bags of food and drinks on the stairs because the elevator’s taking too long

he’s only slightly confused when he walks to your spot that taehyung wasn’t there, even kinda being relieved actually

tae was whisked away for the second and final time to have his leg wrapped up, leaving you and jungkook alone once again

“that looks expensive.”

you remark the moment you see the fancy paper bags, bringing your wallet out to atleast take out a few bills that you think would cover the cost for this hospital dinner

jungkook incessantly shakes his head no, instead making you sit in place so he could turn the area to be a cozy dinner place as best as he could

"i mean it. i'm gonna make it up to you, i swear."

he speaks sometime in the middle of your silent meal, waiting for the time that it’d feel more sincere and not a little forced

ya know he didn’t want to make it seem that buying overpriced dinners correspond to him making it up to you!!!!

"i know."

you answer truthfully because you might have saw this coming, knowing in the back of your head that you wouldn’t put put it past jungkook to be sincere

you hear a noise of surprise when you reply, jungkook immediately putting his hand inside the pocket of his hoodie to fish out something

“your eyedrops, by the way. i meant to give it back to you earlier.”

your eyes skim on the dainty-looking handmade origami box on jungkook’s palm, a fond look he could atleast distinguish

you take it from him nonetheless, unaware at the multiple layers you have yet to know inside said box

“i can always buy a new one.”

he shakes his head at that, scrunching his nose as he mindlessly pokes at the chicken

he thinks back to what he put inside that might’ve been the reason why he didn’t just buy you a new stock in the first place

“i like giving back.”

giving back as in returing feelings too or whatever maybe!!!!! just maybe

he waves you off when you thank him for giving it back, his next words becoming a little weighted on your mind

"open it up when you feel like it. it's up to you."

that was that then

okay maybe not

you’re almost finished with your dinner and you know that you’re about to come home anyway, getting a text from tae that he’s done being wrapped up and is just waiting for his reminders now

why not say what you want to anyway??

"thank you for the lunchbox yesterday, by the way."

jungkook’s the one who’s caught off-guard this time, choking on his rice briefly before questioning you wITHOUT looking pathetic

"h-how did you know it was me??"

your hand only skims to the right of him, having to slightly lean against him to get what you need

it’s tae's record that jungkook had to fill up

you’ve just realized it a little while ago when jungkook was downstairs buying from the cafeteria, the distinct way of how he writes his A’s and curves his Y’s being embedded into your mind

:)

"because it's you."

[lesbobiwan]

Hi!!! Congratulations on 100 followers 👏🎉🎉 could I request 79 with torrent company? Or any other clone groups that you have in mind 😳👉👈 (also i wanna say your wrecker fic is 🔥🔥🍆💦😩😩 so good🙏)

thank you so much!!!! thank u so much about that comment for my wrecker fic that was my first time writing for him and i was very nervous!!

#79: “Look at you, grinding against everything, you’re really desperate for it. Aren’t you?” + Torrent Company (this is my first time writing group sex so i hope its okay haha)

warnings: group sex, hair pulling, a little bit of manhandling, some degradation so pls be aware if thats not ur thing, p in v sex, a little bit of anal fingering, spit roasting (whew)

You would have never imagined yourself in this position. At least, not without a hefty amount of alcohol.

Yet, here you are, stone cold sober, surrounded by a group of men you've fantasied about for months.

Had it not been for the aching bite on your neck left behind by Fives, you would have thought you were dreaming.

Jesse's hand fists in the back of your hair, pulling your head back to showcase the length of your neck, "You're not getting bored, are you?" he teases, grinding the length of his cock against your ass.

"No," you shudder against him, rolling your hips back against him. His hot mouth was making it hard to focus on anything in front of you, which was a damn shame because it's not everyday that you have four naked men in front of you.

Smack!

Echo's hand makes contact against the meat of your inner thigh, sending your world into stark focus. The haze from Jesse's mouth clears away at the shock of pain.

"Then why don't you tell us what Jesse asked you?" Kix asks, hand pumping his cock as his eyes narrow on Jesse's thigh slipping between your legs.

Immediately, you grind down against the muscle of his thigh, whining high in your throat at the friction.

"You don't know?" Fives asks, hand shooting out to grab your jaw. The tips of two fingers slip into your mouth, pressing hard against your tongue. "You too cock dumb already to tell us what Jesse said?"

Heat floods your face. It should be embarrassing. All of these men hearing you get called cock dumb and watch you rub your cunt like a shameless whore with someone's fingers in your mouth should make you want to curl up and die. All it really does is make you want more.

You shake your head as best you can with Fives hand around your jaw and fingers in your mouth. You don't know what Jesse asked you, you want to confess, I just want someone to touch me.

Jesse's thigh disappears from between your legs just as soon as it appeared. "Good girls don't get to rub themselves off when they can't answer simple questions," he whispers in your ear before pushing you not unkindly to the bed.

You gasp as your body bounces across the mattress. The comforter is fluffy enough to press against your clit when you sit up. Bolts of pleasure race up your spine as your drag your clit across the mattress.

"Fuck," you whimper, eyes fluttering shut. Your hands fist in the covers and you grind down harder.

If they won't touch you, then you'll have to do it yourself.

You're leaving a sticky spot on the covers behind you, and the feeling of the fabric catching on your clit is the only thing you can focus on. It's as if everything else in the room has faded from existence and and it's only you and your impending release.

You're so close to coming that you don't even realize the scratch of a chair sliding against the wood of your apartment floors. You don't notice how the rest of the men have fallen silent.

There's only you and your release that's building building building —

One hand tangles in your hair and lifts.

Your eyes flew open and you ragged gasp echoes through the room. Your hands fly up to grab at the wrist holding you up.

Rex stares back at you.

He's been silent enough since the night started that you might be able to say you forget he was here, but that would be a lie. Rex's presence was heavy in the room, and you knew it was an unspoken rule that the other men would do nothing without Rex's say so.

"Look at you," Rex breathes, dark gaze trailing down your heaving breasts to your soaked and dripping cunt and finally to the slick spot you left behind on the comforter. "Grinding against everything, you’re really desperate for it. Aren’t you?”

Rex turns your head to force you to look at the rest of the boys and you're suddenly struck with the feeling that you're prey.

You're prey and these five men are going to eat you alive. They'll devour you whole.

You look forward to it.

"Please," you whine, arching in Rex's grip and reaching out towards Echo, who looks as though he's fighting a war with himself just to keep his hands to himself, "touch me?" It's pitiful and pathetic, but you think you just might convince Echo to step forward.

That is, until Echo's eyes flit to Rex's behind you and his back straightens and feet cement themselves to the floor.

"You're desperate for a cock in your pussy, aren't you?" Rex hisses in your ear, pressing his body flush to your back. His cock is like a red hot brand against the small of your back.

Fuck, you want it in your mouth.

"She's gotta learn the rules first," Fives pipes up, fisting his cock and twisting on every upstroke.

Your mouth is dry and the words are almost hard to spit out against your desire to swallow each and every one of their cocks, but you manage. "R-rules?"

Kix smirks, kneeling down on the bed just far enough away that you would have to strain if you wanted to touch him. "The captain always goes first."

Rex's hand leaves your hair to press between your shoulder blades, forcing your head and chest into the mattress. His broad hand and fingers splay across your back, keeping you perfectly pinned.

Your chest heaves even more. Like this, you're completely exposed. Your swollen and dripping cunt is on full display for Rex behind you and Kix's cock is right there in front of your mouth — all you'd have to do is stretch your neck a little and open and your mouth.

Rex's thumbs open your pussy lips even more, "Look at that," he breathes, grinding his cock against the back of your thigh, "you're soaked for us, sweet girl. You want my cock that bad?"

"Yes!" you sob, canting your hips back into him.

His hand smacks down against the meat of your ass cheek. "'Yes,' what?"

Heat floods your cheeks. "Yes, captain," you groan into the sheets, "please, give me your cock?"

One of Rex's hands leave your body to line the tip of his throbbing cock against your entrance. He slides it up and down the length of your folds, getting his cock nice and wet to push into you.

"Kix," he barks, voice firm and not to be disobeyed, "why don't you keep her mouth busy?"

Kix's grin is feral above you, "With pleasure, Sir,"

Rex's first thrust has you choking on Kix's cock. The captain's hands are like iron against your hips, holding you in place and forcing you to just lay there and take it.

You give up trying to provide suction around Kix's cock and instead resign yourself to just pressing your tongue along the underside of it every time he thrusts into your mouth.

Rex's hand on your hip trails inwards, and your whole body stiffens when his thumb presses against your asshole.

"What do you think, sweet thing?" Rex leans down to whisper in your ear, "D'you think you could take one of us in here?"

Your cunt clenches around his cock and all you can do is moan around Kix's length.

Fuck, you don't know but you'd certainly like to try.

Rex groans as your clamp down around his cock, "Fuck, you like that idea, don't you? You want one of the boys to stick their cock in your ass, huh? Have you so full you'll be walking funny for days?"

Yes! you want to cry out. You want to scream as Rex's cock drags along that magic spot with every thrust but all you can do is choke around the cock in your mouth.

"Echo, you bring what I asked you to?" Rex asks, hips not slowing down for a second.

"Yessir."

Rex smacks a hand down against your ass, jolting you even further onto Kix's cock. Your nose is pressed against the hairs at the base of the medic's cock, and Kix's groan vibrates through his chest.

"Good," Rex grins, "then grab it and get over here."

You can't focus on anything. Your world is nothing but the punishing thrusts of Rex and the heavy feeling of Kix's cock deep in your throat. You can distantly hear Jesse and Fives fisting their cocks above you, and you want nothing more than to grab them and do it yourself, but Rex is using you like a doll.

A cold, slick finger presses against your asshole.

Echo.

You moan around Kix's cock as Echo slides the tip of his finger in.

"That's right," Rex murmurs, hand sliding around your front to circle your clit, "You're going to be full of us by the end of the night. Fuck, you're squeezing my cock so tight,"

Kix's hips start to stutter, "'M gonna cum, pretty girl," he warns, "you gonna swallow it all?"

You whine as best you can around his cock.

Yes, you want to assure him, I'll swallow every last drop.

You think the message gets across.

Echo slips a second finger in your ass just as Kix cums down your throat. Your jaw aches as you swallow it down, sticking out your tongue to show Kix the proof, and exhaustion threatens to creep up your spine.

But Rex isn't Fives and Jesse aren't done. Echo isn't done.

And you get the feeling that no one is done until Rex says they're done.

Maker, you never want this night to end.

[hannie-dul-set]

SHAMELESS | l.dh

PAIRING. co-worker! lee donghyuck x g.n. reader GENRE. enemies! au (no lovers JDFJD), fluff, humor, haechan is a little shit have fun WARNINGS. lots of swearing WORD COUNT. 997 (whew almost reached the limit there, bros) PROMPT(S). “did you just— did you just kiss me?” “yeah” “do it again”

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Getting trapped inside the supply closet with the person you despised the most wasn't the best of situations that you've ever found yourself in. And you were once caught in between an old couple’s divorce argument when you simply wanted to take their order. That was intolerable, but this was beyond that.

“Hello?! Anyone there?! Hello—”

“Will you please shut the fuck up?”

A glare and a groan, Donghyuck spat from across the closet— if you could even consider it across because he was practically sitting in front of you, knees pressed to his chest in an attempt to have as much space in between you as possible. You glared back, retreating into your own corner. It wasn’t like you wanted to be anywhere near him, either.

“It’s closing,” he said, as-a-matter-of-factly. “No one’s gonna be out there to break us out.”

You grumbled, throwing back your head hard enough to cause the wall behind you to rumble. “This is all your fault.”

“Wow, aren’t you shameless? Which dumbass locked themselves in here in the first place?”

“And what does that make you?” you spat back. “I already told you not to follow me in but you didn’t even listen or give me the chance to speak!”

“You were screaming for help! What the fuck did you expect me to do?!”

“Wait for me to finish saying ‘don’t close the door or else you’ll be locked in, too’?!”

“I—” Donghyuck was getting riled up, rightfully so because you didn’t have to be this difficult, yet you were. He threw his hands into the air with a sigh, giving up. “Forget it.”

It was rare for it to be silent between the both of you, happening only once in a blue moon and it looked like the moon took that chance now. You had a good reason for your behavior, or so you liked to believe; it was because in every instance and in every moment that you were damned to be associated with the guy— Lee Donghyuck, your declared enemy and co-worker at the cafe— he was just so fucking irritating. You had the perpetual urge to sock him in the face whenever he said something and looked at you with that...face of his.

That was reasonable, right?

“I still have this fucking term paper to finish, and yet i’m here rotting in this dusty closet with you.”

“Oh, shut up,” he scoffed. “Just admit that you set this up just so you can have your one-on-one chance with me because you’d never have the guts otherwise. Go on, I won’t blame you.”

You let out a loud huff of air, both ridiculed and incredulous. If you had no self control, you would have already thrown hands. The nerve of this guy. “You think I want to be here? With you? I'd rather be locked in the bathroom with Manager Ahn. At least with him, I’d be able to talk him into giving me a raise.”

The offended gasp that Donghyuck let out and the look that he was wearing was almost enough to make this situation worth it. You snickered in victory.

“You take that back!”

In retaliation, you stuck your tongue out. “I'd rather be stuck in the gross, filthy bathroom of the bar next door with Manager Ahn who probably has ingrown—” rambling, you went on without paying his offense any mind.

But maybe you shouldn’t have occupied yourself by solely grating Donghyuck’s nerves, because then you might have noticed the way he scoffed, the way he rolled his eyes in dismissive annoyance, as well the way he all of a sudden rose from his spot to promptly zip your mouth shut.

Aggressively and inappropriately so.

“Did you just—” you gawked, flustered, all the confidence you carried in the words that you were shooting now dwindled down into a flustered squeak. “Did you just kiss me?”

“Yeah,” Donghyuck moved his face away from you, the feeling of his hot breath fanning against your skin still lingering in the air. He wore that same shit-eating grin that you’ve always desperately wanted to wipe away with your shoe. “Problem?”

But this time, you wanted to wipe it away with something else.

“Do it again.”

He stared at you for a moment, just long enough to make you believe that he was about to ravage your lips all over again. But he broke into a laugh.

“You really are shameless,” he clicked his tongue, a subtle smirk on his face as he came closer to land a flick on your forehead. “Didn’t you say you’d rather be with Manager Ahn? What, am I that good of a kisser to make you forget about wanting a pay raise?”

It was unfortunate that your embarrassment came late, crashing over you in the form of a dizzying wave of heat that mercilessly slapped you in the face. What were you thinking? That was the thing— you were not. All thanks to Lee Donghyuck’s ability to be both irritating and charismatic at the same fucking time.

You quickly tried to bring yourself together. 

“I—”

“Manager Ahn won’t be able to kiss you like I do, babe,” Donghyuck mused, standing up from the dusty floor. He stretched a little before digging his hand into his pocket. You didn’t know what it was until you heard a familiar click coming from the door. Your face contorted in disbelief. “So I better hear you beg and take back everything you said before even thinking about asking for another one.”

He winked at you, throwing the keys to the closet right on the wooden planks before you, finally disappearing out of sight.

Your mouth was left dumbstrickenly hanging from the entire mess of the situation, having just enough consciousness to steal the keys from the ground, gripping them tightly inside our palms that they’d leave a nice red mark into your skin. The fucker completely played you.

If anyone was shameless, that was him.

© hannie-dul-set, 2021

[voiceless-terror]

Perchance to Dream

@aspecarchivesweek Day Three: Drinks

Characters: Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood, Tim Stoker, Sasha James

Jon comes out to Martin. Twice.

(Ft. Kiss-Averse Jonathan Sims and Hamlet References)

__________

“Ugh, no thank you.”

Martin pauses. Sasha and Tim titter behind their hands.

And Jon, well. He’s got a look of vehement disgust written across his features, not unlike when he’s laying into what he claims is a fabricated statement. Martin can feel his face turning red at the words.

Getting Jon to come out for drinks had been the hard part. It’s one month into his tenure as Head Archivist, and everyone’s starting to feel the scope of the task ahead of them. Tim thought a ‘monthiversary’ drink was in order, and the only way to get Jon to come out was to threaten him with some sort of ill begotten information, the likes of which Martin couldn’t hear behind the closed door. Ten minutes later, Jon emerged, looking grumpier than usual (and very dashing) with a scarf around his neck. And now he sat next to him in the cozy pub booth, Martin trying very hard to remain stock-still because Jon’s leaning into his side. Perhaps he’s cold? Either way, Martin isn’t going to discourage it. 

But then he’d had a few drinks and they all loosened up; even Jon’s laugh came easier. And Martin- well, Martin’s opening up a bit more than usual, chattering about his time in the library and bolstered by the smiles he receives in turn. Tim changed track to the personal, regaling them with his latest outdoor adventure while Sasha and Jon gave witty, sarcastic commentary. But then Tim directed the conversation towards him, and they seemed relatively interested in his poetry. He even felt comfortable enough to rattle out a few lines from his phone in a desperate hope to impress, and he stupidly chose one that referenced ‘lips like a rosebud’ and Jon reacts like he’s read a particularly saucy bit of a smut novel aloud. How embarrassing. 

“Whew,” Tim whistles lowly, folding his arms behind his neck with an exaggerated wince. “Harsh, boss.”

“No, that’s not it,” Jon says, shaking his head and putting a hand on Martin’s arm. Putting a hand on Martin’s arm. Putting a hand- “Martin, your poetry is fine, if a bit derivative.” Jon thinks his poetry is fine and he’s got his small, fine-boned hand on Martin’s arm and god, he’s got a poem about that too, somewhere in his phone-

Tim guffaws, slamming a hand on the table and startling Sasha. “What a compliment!”

“It’s just…kissing. Lips. Ugh.” Jon smashes his fork rather violently into a dumpling, sending bits of food flying across the table, one of which hit Tim directly above his eye. “I eat with my mouth.”

“Wise observation.”

“Very astute of you.”

Martin would join in on the banter but Jon’s hand is still on his arm and his warm weight is pressing into his side. Honestly, what’s Jon playing at? He could rip the poetry to shreds in front of him but as long as that hand remains on his arm he’d just sit there, not saying a word. Hell, he’d probably even agree.

“So the bossman doesn’t like kisses,” Tim says, taking an obnoxiously loud sip of whatever fruity beverage he’d decided on. “Is that why you ripped down all of my mistletoe back in research?”

Jon. Mistletoe. Hand still on arm.

“I don’t like any of it,” Jon says, removing his hand from Martin’s arm to make a decisive gesture across the table which nearly sent his drink flying. He instantly misses the pressure but the warmth is still there, burning through his sleeve. Jon looks incredibly drunk, now that Martin’s got a better angle to view his flushed cheeks and bright eyes and lips- “All that touching. I don’t understand why everyone’s so hung up on it. No thank you, not for me.”

A brief flash of understanding lights Sasha’s eyes but Martin’s not in a place to decipher it. He’s not sure if it’s the drink or the Jon-of-it-all that’s impeding him. He’s never seen him so relaxed, so animated about something that’s not work. He can’t even focus on the words coming out of Jon’s mouth at the moment.

But Sasha leans forward- once she’s got an idea in her head, she won’t let go until she’s seen it through. Martin recognizes that look. “You’re asexual, then?”

“Mm,” Jon mumbles, his head tilting back dangerously as he puts on an affected, exaggerated voice. “Man delights not me, no, nor woman neither.”

And then Martin’s gone, suddenly struck by a vision of teenage Jon, silhouetted on a stage by a dramatic spotlight, reciting Shakespeare like a born thespian- look, Martin despises theater, but even he’s not immune to Hamlet. In a dream world he’d be Ophelia, no, not Ophelia, idiot- maybe he’s a stage hand, or no, he helps Jon with his quick changes, that’s a job, right? So caught up is he in this pseudo-high school fantasy that the words being said don’t actually dawn on him until a full minute later, when Tim’s laughter reaches a crescendo.

“Boss, did you seriously just come out via Shakespeare?”

Jon’s not even denying it, giving a lazy, good-natured smile in response. Fuck. Here he is, having some stupid fantasy over his boss who is very much right next to him and very much not interested. God, is he taking advantage? He jumps to the side, trying desperately to put a few more inches of space between them for Jon’s comfort when that small hand comes back to his arm, the sudden and strong grip stopping him in his tracks. 

“No!” Jon’s voice is low, those dark eyes so intense. Martin can feel his face go scarlet from his gaze alone. “This is nice. I like it.”

Tim and Sasha share an evil little smile and Martin’s out of commission, the night’s revelations and Jon’s insistent snuggling having taken their toll. He couldn’t tell you what happened after that, how many drinks were shared or how he got home. All he remembers is the feel of Jon’s hand on his arm, his insistent closeness, and the sound of his laugh whenever Tim teased him.

The next day Jon comes in late, looking about as bad as the rest of them felt. From the way he interacts with them, it’s likely that he doesn’t even remember last night, what he did or what he said. Martin tries not to let it sting, and goes back to work, knowing there’s a side of Jon that he’ll likely never see again.

__________

“Martin, we have to...talk, if that’s alright.” 

Martin pauses, a lump building in his throat. “Okay.”

He settles in on Daisy’s lumpy couch, trying not to let his apprehension show. It’s been a week since Jon got him out of the Lonely and they’re still adjusting, but Martin likes to think they’re settling into a nice routine. There’s such a natural ease to their domesticity; they had their differences, sure, but he’s never seen the man so soft and unguarded, puttering around the cottage, making sure everything’s nice and comfortable for the two of them. And of course, there’s the bed situation. Only one, like in all the cliché fanfiction Martin had taken to reading back when he lived in the Archives and his biggest problem was worms. Maybe Jon doesn’t want to share anymore? He’s been strangely distant the past day, keeping space between them and hovering about in a nervous manner. He goes back through their interactions, trying to think of what he could’ve done wrong.

Jon sits down next to him, his face showing his own apprehension. “I know we’ve been getting...close, this past week. But if we’re going to ah, have an, er- well, you know, relationship- there’s some things you need to know.” Relationship. Jon thinks they're in a relationship. Martin didn’t want to put a label to it, too afraid it would shatter the fragile trust they built. But to be in a relationship with Jon, well, that’s something he’s always dreamed of, right?

So he relaxes minutely, tries not to show the utter joy he feels at the words. “Alright. What’s up?”

Jon takes a steadying breath, looking so oddly grave that Martin immediately wants to take him into his arms. “I don’t...well, I’m asexual. So I’m not really interested…” he makes a vague gesture down towards Martin’s crotch and then freezes, clearly embarrassed by the crudeness of the action. “I’m not interested in all of...that. Or kissing, for that matter. It’s just a personal boundary for me, if that’s alright.”

Oh. Martin blinks, taking in Jon’s serious countenance and hopeful eyes and while he wants to match it, he can’t control the laughter that bubbles out of his throat. “Oh-oh Jon-”

Jon immediately blanches, his brow furrowing in confusion and probably hurt. “W-What? What’s so funny?”

“I’m sorry! Fuck-it’s, it’s not that, that’s fine, it’s just-” Martin tries desperately to keep his laughter under control and fails. Christ, he can’t breathe. “Man delights not me, no, nor woman neither!” 

“Why are you quoting Shakespeare?” Jon’s looking at him like he’s lost his mind. Perhaps he has.

“Because you did, you daft thing!” Martin’s shoulders shake with the effort of containing himself, and he wipes a tear from his eye. He immediately puts a hand on Jon’s arm, a mirror’s reflection of that night at the bar and yet it’s still his hand that burns. “Jon, it’s fine. I already know. You told us over drinks my first month in the Archives.”

Jon’s face takes on that peculiar look of confusion and concentration that Martin loves, as if he’s searching his mind or maybe even the Eye for information. “I-oh. Oh!” He puts his head in his hands with a groan, ignoring Martin’s comforting pats to the back. “How embarrassing.”

“It was adorable.”

“No it wasn’t,” Jon whines into his hands even as he leans into Martin’s touch.

“It was,” Martin assures him, drawing him close to his side and letting him lean his head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry I laughed- you were just so serious, I couldn’t help it-”

“Yes, well,” Jon sighed, settling into his arms, the beginnings of a smile on his face. “It’s fine. As long you’re alright with…”

“More than alright.” It’s Jon, of course it’s alright. Being here with him, in their little shabby oasis- well, it’s more than enough. They sit there in silence for some time, Martin enjoying the closeness of the man he’d fought so hard to protect finally in his arms. He’s starting to think they just might be alright. He smiles to himself, perching his chin on top of Jon’s head.

“To be or not to be-”

“Shut up, Martin.”

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28741983

[circus4apsycho8]

HI KLOAT MOM, THIS IS TEM FROM THE HC,,. I WOULD LIKE TO POLITELY REQUEST GRILLBY OR MTT RESORT DATE WITH SANS X TEMMIE (as in, me temmie. not actual ut temmie) IF YOU CAN, THANK YOU ILY PLATONICALLY U COOL <33333

Hey chobleb! SO GLAD TO HEAR FROM YOU! Of course you can <333 Ilyt!! You're cool as well :DDDD

I decided to write this in second person so it can be applicable to everyone. Plus I feel like I’m bad at other POVs haha. This is your pretty generic uwu-sans-asks-you-out-on-date-in-the-underground oneshot but I still hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Sans x Reader

Warnings: mild cussing maybe i dont really remember

…

It’s not even time to leave and today is already a disaster.

Clothes are strewn about your room, Undyne is trying to calm you down, Alphys is going through your wardrobe and you’re in the midst of a breakdown.

“I can’t do this,” you say, clutching your chest. “I-I-“

“You can, nerd!” she says. “Just take a deep breath. It’s just Sans, and you’re only going out for lunch. That’s all.”

You exhale shakily, butterflies swirling in your tummy. “I’m so nervous, though…”

“That’s just b-because you’re overthinking th-things,” Alphys chimes in as she pulls something out from your closet.

“Exactly. Once you get there, you’ll realize how chill it’ll be,” Undyne says, patting you on the back a few times. “Looks like Alph found an outfit for you. Go try it on.”

You sigh, standing from the side of your bed. Alphys smiles softly as she hands you a dress. It’s an older one – one that Mettaton had designed for you a while back. It was too fancy for most occasions, but not for a date at the MTT Resort. You take it and enter your bathroom before changing into it.

Huh. It…actually looks kind of decent. Well, you expect it would – after all, it was tailored to fit your specific figure. The colors compliment your skin and bring out the color of your eyes. It’s flattering, but not too showy.

You step out of the bathroom, and are met by quiet gasps from your friends.

Undyne says your name softly. “That. That is the one.”

“It’s p-p-perfect! You look so pretty!”

“Thanks,” you mutter, too embarrassed to say anything else.

“Now, wear these shoes…and bam! You look great!” Undyne declares. Alphys nods in approval before she comes up behind you and pushes you out the door of your room.

“N-Now go wait downstairs! Sans will be here any s-second now!”

You roll your eyes as Undyne ushers you down near the front door. You’re too nervous to sit, so you walk around while fidgeting. Mind racing, you notice just how fast your heart is beating.

It’s then you hear a knock emanating from your front door. You suck in a deep breath before gathering you shattered nerves and opening the door.

There stands Sans, one hand hidden behind his back. He’s dressed in a light blue button-up and dark dress pants.

“hey,” he greets, a faint blue staining his zygomatic arches. He smiles, using his free hand to rub the back of his cervical vertebrae. “wow…you look so pretty…”

Your eyes widen as the blush returns at full force. “Oh…thank you. You look handsome,” you compliment, offering him a small smile.

He chuckles in response. “thanks. oh…these are for you.” He pulls his hidden arm out from his back, revealing a bouquet of flowers that must have come from Asgore’s garden.

You gasp in delight. “Sans! You didn’t have to…” You take the bouquet, staring at it in fascination. Such lovely flowers! “Thank you! I’ll go put them in a vase quickly.”

You quickly go to set the bouquet somewhere safe before you hurry back to the doorway. Sans offers a hand to you as you shut the door.

“may i?”

A giggle escapes you as you take his hand. “You may.”

“good, ‘cause i know a shortcut.”

“Yes, your teleportation. We know this.”

He winks. “let’s go. don't wanna be late to our reservation.”

With that, you feel the world fading beneath your feet as he whisks you through the void. Your head begins to spin as you feel the world rematerializing once more.

“Whew,” you say, your head spinning. Sans slips an arm around your waist to keep you upright.

“you okay?” he asks.

You take a moment to gather your bearings, not yet noticing his arm. “Yeah, I’m good now.”

“good,” he says softly, releasing his grip on you. You smile, noticing that the butterflies in your stomach have settled. Undyne was right – it’s just Sans, and you’re comfy with him.

Sans gently loops his phalanges through your fingers, and you don’t pull away.

…

Dinner was – well, it was fantastic. It was a teeny bit awkward at first, but soon enough the two of you were laughing and just overall having a nice time. The food was good, and Sans insisted on paying much to your dismay.

“hey, there’s one more spot i wanna take you to,” Sans says, tugging you out of the restaurant. You giggle, following him.

“Where are we going?”

“it’s a surprise. close your eyes?”

You obey, closing your eyes as he teleports the two of you through the void once more.

“keep your eyes closed. i'll guide you to the spot.”

“Okay. I trust you!”

With that, Sans loops his arm around your waist and guides you through the area. You try to figure out where you are by using your other senses. Judging by the sound of rushing water, and lack of a freezing cold temperature, you can assume you’re in Waterfall. But where is Sans taking you?

“k, you can open them now.”

You open your eyes, and gasp. Sans has taken you to a dark cavern filled with echo flowers, a small stream, and gems embedded in the walls and ceiling. The only illumination here is provided by the echo flowers.

“I don’t think I’ve been here before,” you note, smiling. You turn to Sans, studying how his bones are cast in the soft blue light of the flowers.

“it’s a secret hideout my bro and i have. i don’t think anyone else comes here.”

“That’s crazy,” you note, lifting the skirt of your dress a bit so you can kneel in front of an echo flower. You smile as Sans settles next to you.

“These flowers are so cool,” you note, gently touching one of the flower’s petals. It softly echoes back what you just said. “I wonder how they work? I mean, I understand it’s, well, magic, but still. It’s so incredible…”

You trail off, studying the flower for a moment later before you glance at Sans once more. He’s gazing at you with soft eyelights.

“you’re so beautiful,” he mumbles, tone soft as raises his right hand to cup your cheek.

Your blush returns tenfold as you melt into his touch. You press his hand against your skin and smile.

“Thank you,” you reply, holding his gaze and scooting closer to him and wrapping your arms around his neck. “You know, you look so cute all dressed up.”

He chuckles lightly, brushing your cheek with his other hand. “thanks.”

Now, you’re so close that your nose is lightly pressed against his nasal bone. You still haven’t dropped your stare, and soon enough, Sans leans forward, pressing his teeth against your lips.