#this is my way of saying i will pay good money for a nice set of these

[gothamite-rambler]

Jon and Damian being best friends (and better friends than their father)

Jon and Damian were in the middle of a heated Fortnite match, battling against other online players when one player, Ballbuster335, started trash-talking them after a loss.

Ballbuster335: Y’all are trash! I swear.

Damian (clarifying): We lost because of you.

Ballbuster335: I told Superboy9000 to cover! He messed up! Damn, he’s such trash, dude! TRASH!

Jon lowered his head, a look of defeat on his face. Damian set his controller down and pulled out his phone, quickly searching for information on Ballbuster335.

Jon (softly): I’m sorry—

Damian (calmly): Ballbuster335, Sunnyvale Avenue, New Jersey, Jared Davis. You work at a Dollar Tree. I won’t hesitate to drive over and put my foot up your ass if you don’t apologize and log off.

The irate player fell silent, while snickers from the other players could be heard in the background.

Damian: What’s wrong, Jared? Upset that your failed NFT business left you broke? Cursing out middle schoolers after joining our party? Lost a game due to your own mistakes, or are you just scared that I will find you? I saw your internet history, too.

Jared remained speechless, an audible gulp echoing in the chat.

Damian: Why’d you stop talking? Is it because you live close by? Or because if you keep attacking my friend, I’ll find you and deal with you? Insult me all you want, but if you mess with Jon, you're messing with the wrong person. Log off, or I can get there really fast.

A log-out ping sounded as Jared exited without offering an apology, but Jon wasn’t complaining.

Damian: Such a shame. Well, would everyone else like to continue?

The other gamers nodded in agreement, eager to keep playing. Jon smiled and playfully nudged Damian with his arm. Damian shrugged with a grin.

--------------------------------------

Jon: What’s one nice thing you can say about me?

Damian: You’re st... I mean, you are funny and make me smile.

Jon (eyes lighting up): You think I’m funny?

Damian (sighing): I hate to admit it, but you are.

Jon: And I give the best hugs!

Damian: I never said th—

Jon enveloped Damian in a tight hug. Damian sighed having expected this, but patted his friend’s arm with a smile.

--------------------------------------

After a successful mission, Damian carried Jon in his arms as they made their way back to Jon’s house.

Jon (arms wrapped around Damian's shoulders): Ain’t this something, pal? You’re carrying me like a true friend would.

Damian (exhausted): Yep, remind me why I’m carrying you again?

Jon: My healing factor isn't as good as my dad's.

Damian (stating the obvious): Okay, but you have one.

Jon: Yeah, but... you’re really strong.

Damian (mulling it over and accepting): That’s a fact, but I’m dropping you when I can guarantee we’re safe.

Jon: When will that be?

Damian (as they enter a cul-de-sac): Drop.

Jon was unceremoniously dropped on the ground, and Damian stepped over him, heading toward Jon's family home.

Damian: Get up.

Jon scrambled to his feet and ran over to Damian, placing his arm on his shoulder as they chatted about what to do for the rest of the night.

--------------------------------------

While shopping, Jon spotted a Monster High shirt and, intrigued by its cool design, picked it off the rack.

Jon (smiling): I like this shirt, but I don’t think I can afford it.

Damian swiftly yanked off the shirt tag and headed to the front counter to pay without another word.

Jon (trying to stop him): Damian, wait! Stop buying me stuff. We’ve been over this.

Damian (paying for the item): I told you, my friend language is gifting things. I don’t expect anything in return either. It’s just how I operate. Let it happen.

Jon: But won’t your dad be mad you’re using his money?

Damian: Considering he’s insanely rich and my mom is too... I don’t think he’ll notice I borrowed his credit card for the day. He lets me take it anyway. Buying clothes and necessities for my friend is just a bonus. You're a necessity I need to finance.

Jon: Aww, that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.

Damian: I do have a way with words.

The cashier, who had listened to the entire exchange, widened her eyes in surprise as she handed Damian his receipt.

Cashier: Christ, my friends usually beg me for money and you're doing this? Kid, you're lucky.

Damian: He is, thank you. Jon, you want anything else?

Jon: Um... I’m good—

Cashier: Dude, there’s a sale, and your friend just said he’ll buy you anything! Pick out a couple more shirts at least. I don’t mean to interject, but this kid seems awesome.

Damian (smiling): Jon, listen to the nice saleswoman.

Jon sighed, smiling as he relented.

Jon: Fine, but I’m picking out something for you as well.

Damian nodded, following Jon to the shirts section of the store, ready for more shopping adventures together.

[shegoesbyjoy]

WAIT has anyone drawn each of the in-game postcards? maybe even to sell them as actual physical postcards???

would absolutely love to see how DE's talented fan artists render each of these, given how much the game illustrations leave up for interpretation

[Postcard Martinaise '98] A faded picture postcard from the end of the last century shows Martinaise as was before the Revolution. It's the height of summer, Rue de Saint-Ghislaine is teeming with parasol-wielding bourgeoisie and Wild Pines flags buttress the walkway. Nothing is written on the back.

[Postcard Grand Couron '37] This postcard depicts an ill-advised residential area overlooking the Jamrock Quarter. 13-story buildings line the hillside like sarcophagi, an ominous fog already rising from behind. These are the last boom years -- in '39 the project fails catastrophically, leaving behind an opiate and hepatitis B infested slum.

[Postcard Le Jardin '21] This laminated post card offers a glimpse across the river. A little more than a decade after the war, the eastern bank is already fully renovated. The hillsides are lush with gardens and residences, someone's parked a small beige airship by the fountain. This postcard will sell for a pretty penny.

[Postcard La Delta '51] The sunlight has made this postcard almost completely sepia-toned. Midtown traffic passes, overhead the ghosts of skyscrapers disappear into a beige mid-day mist -- vapour rising from the delta on which the district was built. The postcard is pre-paid.

[Postcard Boogie Street '46] This crumpled up postcard depicts an open air market in Boogie Street ~5 years ago. A vendor smiles as dead roosters line his stalls -- hung by their feet from canopy. Red blood flows onto the muddy street, blurry shadows of people pass.

[Postcard Couron '33] This one has 'HELL' written on its back. It could not be further from the truth. It's the boom years, and Couron, the nicest district in Revachol West, is enjoying a sun drenched day. Tall and handsome buildings rise from the riverside: steel, iron and yellow limestone, with cloud shadows sliding on the facades.

[Postcard Coal City '08] This postcard depicts a forest of smokestacks releasing fat plumes of smoke into blue, cloudless sky. The tinge of age – the colour of old teeth – gives it a sickly look. Written on the back is a single sentence, repeated twice: I got out. I got out. No addressee.

(game item screenshots & descriptions courtesy of the Disco Elysium wiki)

[rowarn]

SURPRISE, SURPRISE !

john "soap" mactavish / reader – 9.3k sale of a lifetime mini series !

tags: smut, developing relationship, virginity for sale trope, protective!soap, virgin!reader, afab!reader, no prns for reader, mean!soap? or maybe just intense!soap, soap is NOT beginner-friendly

cw: loss of virginity, soap's filthy mouth, fingering, multiple orgasms, wet&messy, sloppy blowjob, cum facial, squirting, crying during sex?/dacryphilia, consent check bc johnny is a GOOD MAN, intense heated sex to sex with feelings, cunnilingus, corruption kink if u squint, multiple rounds, sloppy sex tbh

;

It’s not like it’s hard to find someone to sell your virginity to, men come out of the woodwork offering you the money. It’s no problem at all to set up a little meeting and get to know them before you’re whisked away to a bedroom.

At least, that’s how it should be. 

The problem was there seemingly was always something that got in the way. Or rather…someone.

Soap, in fact. 

or.

After continuously getting in the way of your attempts to sell your virginity, you finally let yourself fall into bed with him instead.

You couldn’t believe you wound up here. You always thought it would happen in some sweet way. A long-time boyfriend or girlfriend, happy and in love. You’d snuggle up afterwards and be told how good you were.

But no, instead you became swamped in debt and ended up on the verge of eviction even though you were living in the cheapest apartment you could find that wasn’t in an area that would get you stabbed for stepping outside. You needed money fast and you had one thing that plenty of perverts would pay for; your virginity. It’s not your most crowning moment in life but as they say, you gotta do what you gotta do. 

At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself so you don’t crumble under the shame of it all. 

When the chair across from you suddenly gets yanked out, feet scraping obnoxiously across the floor, making you nearly jump out of your skin. The man who sits down looks nothing like the picture he sent and you internally groan. He looks much older than you, no doubt in his mid 40’s, balding, and graying hair. You wouldn’t mind an older man if he were a little more…attractive. Sure, maybe that’s a bit shallow of you but fuck, it’s your virginity you’re giving away. You should be allowed to be picky with the man you choose! Under normal circumstances you would be so why not now?

Then again, this isn’t exactly normal circumstances was it?

You pick up the glass of the strongest drink you could handle that you ordered at the bar while waiting and downed it in one deep gulp. You gave the man a very fake smile and he grinned back, the sleazy sight making your stomach turn. 

You were going to need a lot more alcohol. 

The evening turned into night and you’re feeling the effects of the alcohol. Your ‘date’ doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest as you drink, if anything he seems elated. That thought makes you curl your lip in disgust. 

“So,” he starts when you finally lean back in your chair, having had your fill of alcohol for the night, “Shall we move this along? My place or yours?”

“You got the money you promised?” you ask, raising a brow, unsure if you sounded as drunk to him as you did to yourself.

“In my car,” he responds, grin sitting irritatingly lopsided on his ugly face, “Got it all ready for you. After services are rendered, of course.”

Anxiety coils in your stomach at the mention of what you have to do to get the money. It’s a lot of money and that makes your palms sweaty – you need it. You feel like there’s eyes on you from behind, making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. When you turn to look around, there’s no one paying any attention to you. Everyone in the bar was having a nice time. You wish you were one of them. 

“Let’s get out here,” the man grins, “I am just achin’ to get my hands on you.”

He stands up but you find yourself rooted to your seat. Your entire body feels tense, you can’t find it in yourself to stand up. You don’t want to go with the guy, you decide. Your fight or flight activates with terrifying speed, alerting you of the danger you’re in. Though you’re not exactly sure what danger that is just yet.

“I think…” you start and the guy heaves a big sigh.

“Don’t tell me you’re backin’ out?” he grumbles, not bothering to mask his irritation, “After I came all this way? That’s awfully rude of you.”

“I just don’t think I want to–” he groans, embarrassingly loud.

You feel the eyes of nearby patrons on you and your cheeks burn under the scrutiny. Shame bubbles up inside you at the thought of them finding out what exactly was going on between the two of you. 

“Let’s go,” he snaps, his anger bubbling to the surface as he rounds the table and grabs hold of your arm.

You don’t bother fighting back as he yanks you to your feet, instead leveling him with a fierce glare. You don’t want to make a scene in front of all these people so you plan to let him drag out outside where you can really give him a piece of your mind before hopefully coming back inside and peacefully getting drunk alone.

But a sudden, growling voice has both of you freezing in place, “I don’t think you’re goin’ anywhere.”

Your eyes fall upon a man, standing tall and confidently. He has a mohawk, brilliant blue eyes and handsome features. Upon first glance, you could immediately tell he was in the military based on his posture alone. He was intimidating, broad and well-built.

“Hey, dude, why don't you mind your own fuckin’ business,” your ‘date’ snarled, yanking you harshly towards him.

You felt your eye twitch in irritation but your drunken brain was too slow to react properly. You were still hung up on the appearance of this rather good looking man. 

“This is my business,” the stranger said, Scottish accent thick as he took two big strides over to the both of you, “Why don't you just leave quietly so things don't have to get ugly?” 

Your ‘date’ stares the strange man down for a few seconds, taking a glance at you before kissing his teeth and ripping his hand off of you. 

“You ain't worth this shit,” he huffed, stomping off into the crowd. You could hear the bell over the door ring, announcing his final departure from the scene.

“Well, he was just a dandy fellow,” your rescuer jokes, a crooked grin settling on his face. His shoulders relaxed and he held his hand out, “Name’s Soap. How about I walk you home?” 

“That'd be great,” you responded, feeling your stomach starting to roll as the alcohol settled. You knew you were going to be stuck with your head over the toilet bowl soon and you'd rather be in the comfort of your apartment for that. 

“Let’s get a move on then,” he waved forward for you to lead the way. 

The crisp outside air had you sighing happily. You hadn't realized how hot you were in there but now that the light breeze brushed against your skin, you noticed how you had begun to sweat. 

“So you’re military, huh?” you ask, leading him in the direction of your apartments “Soap.” 

He chuckles, “You caught me.” 

You smile, “It's kind of hard to miss, no offense.” 

“None taken,” he assures, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets, “What were you doin’ with a piece of shite like that? Was he your boyfriend?” 

You sputter, “No! Nothing like that. I just…had a deal with him, that's all. I called it off and he got pissed. I'm sorta pissed at myself. Just missed out on a fuck ton of money.” 

Soap’s brows raise, “What kind of deal?” 

Your drunken brain forgets all about the fact such a deal should be kept quiet. Your mouth opens before you can stop yourself, “My virginity for his money. But I’m not like a prostitute or anything!” 

He holds his hands up as surrender when you get defensive at the shocked look on his face, “You need money that bad?”

“You have no idea,” you sign, pinching the bridge of your nose at the mere thought of your money troubles, “I never do this. You know? I-I mean obviously…with the virginity and all. But-!”

“I’m not judgin’ you,” he assures, “Hard times. But you should be careful. Lot’s of dangerous characters out there.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, shrugging your shoulders as you come to a stop, “This is my place.”

“Right,” he mutters, “Let me give you my number.”

“For what?” you sputter, watching him pull out his wallet.

“Just in case,” he smiles, “I doubt anyone really knows what you’re dealin’ with right? I do. So if you’re ever in any trouble,” he hands you a business card, “Give me a call.”

You take the card and look it over. It’s got his name and military rank but not much else. You raise a brow, “Why do you have a business card on you?”

He chuckles, waving his hand flippantly, “Just ‘cause. I’ll see you around, darlin’.”

“Yeah,” you smile, stowing the card away in your pocket, “Thanks for walking me home, Soap.”

He stands outside of your place, waiting until you’re safely inside and shutting the door. When you peek out the window, you see him walking off in the direction that you had come from. You smile and go about getting ready for bed, grateful that you’re not feeling that awful nauseous pit in your stomach you had earlier.

When you wake up in the morning, you’re still dressed in your clothes and you have no recollection of having laid down the night before. You groan, your head throbbing in your skull as you sit up. 

You stumble your way to the bathroom, grimacing at the sight of yourself in the mirror. You take the time to start the shower and strip yourself, determined to scrub the grime from last night off of your body. 

By the time you step out, you’re feeling like a brand new person. You stretch your arms over your head and work on drying yourself off. Wrapping your towel around your body, gather your clothes in your arms, and trudge back into your bedroom. 

You look through the pockets of your jeans from yesterday, pulling out various coins and candy wrappers that you remember snacking on in the car to ease your nerves. You finally pull out the last thing – the business card Soap had given you last night. 

It all floods back to you, and you find yourself pulling your phone out, opening it to make a new contact under the name Soap.

Sitting on the edge of your bed, still wrapped in your towel, you shoot him a text.

“Hi Soap, remember me? You walked me home last night! I was just wondering if I could take this as a business inquiry?”

You aren’t sure where the burst of confidence came from. Last night, you would have never even thought to ask him such a thing. But the fact your plans fell through last night with that pig of a man, you kind of had no other choice at this point. 

And luckily for you, Soap texted back almost immediately.

“Sure, darlin’. We can consider it a business inquiry.”

Jackpot, you think. Not only is he very good looking and nice – if he has the money, then you can’t think of anyone better to sell your ‘goods’ to. 

He’s perfect.

Turns out, Soap is more than ready to meet up. Not at a bar, you’re thrilled, but at an actual restaurant. It almost feels like a real date!

You have the opportunity to dress yourself up and feel pretty. It feels so much better than meeting up with that guy at the dingy bar. Your nerves are almost non-existent. 

You still have that jittery feeling everyone gets when they’re going to be going out with someone new. 

But this isn’t actually a date, you have to tell yourself, as you get into your car to drive to the restaurant. It’s a meeting.

When you walk in, you’re greeted with the heavenly smell of food and what you can only deduce as something akin to mint. It’s a lovely restaurant, tablecloths and wine glasses everywhere. 

You look around the room before you spot him, sitting at a table in the far back nursing a glass of water. You make your way there, coming to a slow stop in front of the table. He looks up, blue eyes widening at the sight of you before he jumps to his feet. 

“You made it,” he says, a smile growing on his lips. 

He rounds the table and pulls your chair out, gesturing for you to take a seat.

“Thank you,” you say as he pushes you in a bit before returning to his own seat. 

Soap situates his elbows on the table, chin resting on his hands as he gazes across at you. You feel your cheeks burn underneath his intense gaze, not able to gain the courage to look directly at him.

A waiter comes by, depositing a basket of fresh, buttered bread on your table, letting you know he’ll be around in a moment to collect your orders. You offer him a polite smile as he vanishes, acutely aware that Soap is still staring right at you. 

“Why are you…” you clear your throat, finally looking at him. 

“You look lovely,” he says, a smile growing on his face when you become more bashful, “You’re truly breathtaking, has anyone ever told you that before?”

You can feel how hot your cheeks are and you resist the urge to reach up and pat them in an attempt to cool them down. You’re at a loss for words, no clue what to say in response to that. You hadn’t been told anything like that before, actually. Nor has anyone ever looked at you with such infatuated intensity like he is right now. 

Thankfully, the waiter arrives to relieve you of this immense pressure. Pulled from his devoted admiration, Soap orders first before you put your own order in. 

Left alone once again, you and Soap fall into an easy conversation. You’re surprised by how nice it is to talk to him, he’s open and funny. He tells you about his buddies in the military and about how he goes out to drink every weekend with some guy named Kyle and that he thinks his buddy Ghost’s jokes are just the worst abomination on Earth. 

You get so lost in talking to him, you don’t even realize how much time has passed. Your food arrives and the table finally falls quiet. 

You both get lost in eating your meals. Soap finishes his glass of wine and leans back in his seat with a content sigh. When you finish your own plate, you do the same. The chair creaks underneath the shift of weight and your eyes meet his. 

You wait to see if he’ll say something. But he just continues to stare at you, drifting from your eyes and down the rest of your body that’s not hidden by the table. 

“So, should we get out of here?” you finally find yourself asking, burying any embarrassment deep down, “Your place or mine?”

Soap seems to falter suddenly, crooked smile slipping off of his face, “Listen, darlin’...I-I don’t actually want to…you know…”

Your cheeks burn a little and you shrink in on yourself where you sit, “Oh! Well, that’s fine. I-It’s just that you said it was an inquiry so…I assumed.”

Soap shakes his head, reaching across the table to place his hand over yours, “I know. I told you that just so I could see you. I’m just worried about you, darlin’.”

“You want to talk me out of it,” you sigh, leaning back in your seat again, “I appreciate your concern, Soap. But I’m really at the end of my rope here. This is my very last resort, you understand?”

“But you shouldn’t have to-!” you pull your hand out from underneath his and stand.

“I know,” you shrug, “I’m only doing what I can with my circumstances. I appreciate you taking the time to see me and let me know you’re worried. I’ll see you around, okay?”

You leave him behind at the table and make your way back to your car. As you sit, engine idling, the disappointment bubbles up within you. Soap is probably the absolute best you could have gotten in a situation like this. But, it’s clear now that you’re going to have to find a new guy. 

You just hope you don’t walk right into the clawed talons of some unknown serial killer or something. 

The thought sends shivers down your spine as you make your way back home.

So begins the process of finding a new person to get the money from. 

It’s not like it’s hard to find someone to sell your virginity to, men come out of the woodwork offering you the money. It’s no problem at all to set up a little meeting and get to know them before you’re whisked away to a bedroom. 

At least, that’s how it should be. 

The problem was there seemingly was always something that got in the way. Or rather…someone.

Soap, in fact. 

Around every turn, he was there to intercept the meeting you had with a man. 

A terribly boring man named Charles; Soap showed up at the bar you met at. The surprisingly young guy you weren’t even sure had enough money for his own monthly rent, Brandon; Soap was there. Justin, the doctor that lowkey gave you the creeps; Soap was there too. 

Every single time, the Scot would sit himself at the table and run the guy off, leaving you no choice but to go home alone and moneyless. 

You’re getting angrier with every passing day and before you know it, you’re calling him up and asking him to meet you. 

The second you lay your eyes on him, you’re marching right up to him.

“What the hell is your problem, Soap?!” you cry, practically nose to nose with him as you glare.

“Whoa, darlin’,” he holds his hands up in mock surrender, “Don’t know what I did to get you so wound up but-”

“You know exactly what you’ve done!” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest, “Why do you keep getting in my way?”

“That’s a mean thing to say to someone,” he responds lightheartedly. 

But then your glare wipes the smile off of his face and he sighs, running a hand through his mohawk. He stuffs his hands into his pockets, rocking anxiously back and forth on his heels as he seems to think over his next words carefully.

“I’m just lookin’ out for you, darlin’,” he assures, “This…isn't safe, what you’re doin’. You could get into somethin’ real serious. I just…want to make sure you’re safe.”

You deflate and sigh, “I already told you, Soap. I appreciate your concern but…”

Suddenly, he surges forward, big, rough hands cupping your cheeks as he pulls your lips to his. You gasp, hands resting against his chest as you allow yourself to melt into the kiss. 

When he pulls back, he seems almost nervous, “I wanted to kiss you really badly the first night I saw you.”

“So you like me?” you ask softly, not taking your hands off of his chest.

He reaches up, wrapping one of his hands around yours, “I’m afraid so.”

“Soap…” you start but he interrupts you.

“Johnny,” he says, “Call me Johnny.”

“Johnny,” you correct yourself, feeling your cheeks burn at the positively giddy look on his face, “I don’t know if…this…” you gesture between the two of you, “Is a good idea…with what I’m dealing with.”

His brows furrowed and a frown lines his lips. You find yourself wishing you could wipe the solemn look right off his face – it doesn’t suit him, “Just give me a chance, yeah? That’s all I ask of you.”

You sigh, “Okay, Johnny.”

You’re not sure why you gave in so easily to him. But the bright look returns to his eyes again and you find yourself feeling lighter. 

He steps back, slipping his fingers in between yours. He tugs you in his direction to follow him and you do, heart skipping in your chest as you look at your hand wrapped up in his. 

You haven’t been in a relationship in a very long time so this giddy feeling wasn’t one that you got to feel very often. 

Sooner than you’d like, he’s slipping his hand from yours to open the door to an apartment complex for you. You step inside and make your way down the hallway, tailing close behind him up to a door on the first floor – apartment 108. 

“It’s not much,” he gives you that charming, crooked smile as he opens the door.

“It’s better than my place,” you joke as you toe your shoes off.

“Have you had anything to eat?” he asks, helping you out of your jacket before hanging it on the rack by the door. You shake your head and he nods, “I’ll order us somethin’. Go ahead and make yourself at home.”

You watch him disappear into the kitchen as you look around his flat. It’s a modest apartment, a bit bare but there’s little bits of Johnny scattered around the place. There were picture frames on the walls and on different surfaces. The couch was navy blue and looked well loved. 

“Here’s some water,” he says, startling you as he comes back into the living room, “I ordered us some food, wasn’t sure what you liked so I guessed.”

You chuckle, taking a seat on the couch, “I don’t mind.”

“I’m not really,” he chuckles, sounding nervous, “Good at this.”

“Well,” you sink into the cushions, “I can’t say I am either.”

He laughs, a sweet, melodic sound that makes your cheeks flush, “Well, in that case. We can just…go with the flow.”

“Yeah,” you nod, “Go with the flow.”

By the time the food arrives, you and Soap are invested in watching a random season of The Bachelorette. Neither of you could decide so you looked online to find a wheel to spin to decide your fate for you. 

“Ugh,” Soap groans, “Can’t believe she’s goin’ on about how dreamy this bastard is. He’s a total tool!”

You giggle, holding one of his throw pillows against your chest as you sit. You’re about to add your own two cents when the doorbell rings. 

Soap jumps to his feet, “Fuckin’ hell, I could eat a cow.”

You admire the view of him from behind when he opens the door. His tight green t-shirt hugs the dip of his waist, riding up just a bit to show a sliver of tanned skin. His shoulders look impossibly wide as he stands in the doorway to take the food, muscles rippling beneath the fabric. His jeans sit low on his hips, belt tied tightly around them. 

Fuck, he’s good looking.

He turns, grinning and holding up the bags as if to show you his spoils. He raises one dark brow curiously, as if he knows what you’d been thinking.

“So,” he coos, saddling up next to you, placing the food on the coffee table, “Did you enjoy the view?”

You squeak, “I don’t think it’s polite to call out someone for looking…”

He cocks his head to the side and chuckles, leaning down to grip your chin, “Mind if I kiss you?”

“Now you’re asking?” you respond, breathless as you look at his lips coming closer and closer to yours.

“Aye,” he breathes. 

You nod and his lips are against yours in an instant. He supports his weight by placing his hands on the back of the couch. You have to crane your neck back to be able to kiss him but having him over top of you like this is exhilarating. 

You know you should stop before you get too carried away but you can’t seem to bring yourself to break away from him. Your attraction to this man is palpable and all consuming. 

Against your better judgment, you let him push you down, back against the cushions so he can crawl onto the couch. One knee on one side of you, he keeps one foot on the floor to straddle you without crushing you under his weight. But you wish that he would, fuck. 

Your arms wrap around his shoulders, fingers slipping through the short hairs of his mohawk. He sighs against your lips, one hand coming up to wrap lightly around your throat, just pinning you down so he can deepen the kiss. 

You find yourself tugging at his shirt, edging it up and up until he’s forced to pull away.

“Are you sure?” he asks, blue eyes swallowed by the black of his pupils when he meets your gaze. 

You nod, “Want you, Johnny.”

“I’ll give you all of me,” he promises, sitting up to yank his shirt over his head. 

It feels like the air evaporates from your lungs at the sight of him. He’s built, muscles rippling underneath a layer of fat – a man who is built for pure strength. His tanned skin is littered with tattoos here and there and hair speckles over his chest and stomach, a thick happy trail disappearing under his jeans. Which are tented with how his hardened cock presses against the fabric, desperate to be released. 

Your hand slips down the planes of his chest and down his tummy, cupping his erection. It twitches and kicks beneath your touch and pulls a groan from him. 

He reaches out, wrapping his hand around your wrist and bringing your hand to his lips where he places a kiss upon your palm. 

“Strip yourself, baby,” he orders, “Wanna see that pretty body.”

He sits back on his heels, watching your every movement as you slip your shirt off and shimmy your pants down your hips. 

When you stop, he realizes you're not going to take your panties off so he quickly does it for you. His thumbs hook into the band and yanks them down, making you squeal as the force jostles you. 

Soap chuckles, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as his hands eagerly cup your breasts. You sigh at the contact, arching your back to press more into his touch. 

His kisses all over your chest, leaving no spot untouched, until he can pop one of your nipples in his mouth. You whimper, fingers sliding appreciatively through his mohawk while his other hand slips between your thighs. 

You easily part them, nearly panting by the time his fingers slip between your folds. You're already wet and sticky, drooling all over yourself with slick he uses to circle your clit. 

Your hips twitch as the first feeling of his rough fingers on the little bud. You cry out, tugging on his hair as he switches his mouth to give your other nipple proper attention. 

You arch your hips, his fingers sneaking down to prod at your entrance. With a glance at your face to make sure you're okay with it, he slides one in. 

There's a loud squelch when it sinks in to the last knuckle and you whine in embarrassment. 

He can't resist commenting, “So wet.” 

You whimper, lightly slapping his shoulder at his teasing. He chuckles, leaning up to press his lips against yours as he carefully works you open on that one finger. He presses and prods against your walls, waiting for you to relax so he can slip another one inside you — really prepare you for his cock. 

He presses against your g-spot and it rips a heavenly sound from your lips that only encourages him to do it again. You get wetter and wetter, throbbing and clenching around his middle finger. 

When he decides you're ready, he introduces a second finger. His ring finger easily fits in right alongside his middle. 

“There you go,” he praises, unable to resist looking down to see where his fingers are buried inside you, “That's it, baby, look at you go.” 

You gasp, eyes rolling back in your head when he adjusts his hand. His palm cups over your clit, the angle letting him really grind the tips of those digits right against that gooey little spot inside you. 

He watches the way you cream his fingers, milky colored slick dripping down his knuckles. It makes his mouth water. 

The movements rub his palm over your clit, stimulating the tender little bud and driving you closer and closer to the edge. You cry out, moaning and wailing the tighter that cord winds in your tummy. 

You clench and pulse against his fingers, a signal that you're going to cum for him. He works even harder, diligently worshiping your precious cunt until you toss your head back and sob. 

Your body trembles, thighs twitching in time to your walls squeezing around him. He moans with you, watching your pretty body in the throes of pleasure. 

When it becomes too much, you weakly reach down and bat his hand away. He slips his fingers out, watching you clamp your thighs shut. 

As you lay there panting and collecting yourself, he pops his cum-covered fingers into his mouth. He moans at your taste, slipping his tongue between them to catch every single drop of sweet cum he can get. 

By the time he finishes off the delicacy, you're watching him with lidded eyes and your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. 

“More?” he asks, a crooked grin on his face. You nod and he chuckles, “That looked like a good fuckin’ orgasm. Sure you can handle more?”

“If I can't,” you whisper, sitting up to tug at his belt, “You can make me.”

“Fuck,” he groans, reaching down to help you open his pants, “Want me to make you take it, baby? Make you cum on my cock until you can't even think?”

“Please, Johnny,” you whimper, not tearing your eyes off the sight of him stripping himself bare. 

His cock was fat and heavy, a thick patch of hair scattering the base with thick, full balls to match. You felt your mouth fill with saliva at the sight of his hand wrapped around his big cock, stroking himself languidly until enough precum had dripped out to slick himself up. 

“Let me hear it again, doll,” his eyes are heavy lidded as he looks at you laid out beneath him, breathless and sweating from the orgasm he’d worked out of you.

“Please, Johnny,” you whisper, needily reaching your hands out towards him. 

“Shit,” he grunts, “Alright.” 

He scoots closer to you, spreading your legs open for him. Your sticky folds part, exposing your swollen, sensitive clit and clenching hole that’s still drooling your creamy release. 

He slips the tip of his cock through the gooey mess, tapping it meanly against your little bud. Your knees flinch at the stimulation and your jaw drops open when he starts to push inside. 

It burns and you arch your hips away instinctively from the pain. He slips out and curses.

“You gotta relax, sweetheart,” he mumbles, hoisting your hips into his lap with an iron grip. 

“Can’t,” you pitifully whimper. 

Soap clicks his tongue, purses his lips and lewdly spits on your clit. You whine, hands covering your face when he uses his cockhead to smear it all over. 

When he starts to push in again, the burn starts but a rough thumb finds your clit. 

“Shh,” Soap soothes you, watching as the furrow in your brows vanishes. 

He works your clit in tiny circles as he carefully saws his cock in and out of your tight hole, inching a little bit more in every time. Your body grows pliant and soft, slumping against the couch until he finally buries himself to the hilt. 

“Thaaaaat’s it,” he praises, still rolling your hard clit under his thumb, “Good fuckin’ job. Take your reward, sweetheart.” 

He remains completely stuffed inside you, grinding his hips up just a little until he prods at that gooey little spot inside you. His thumb continues to swirl around your clit and he watches your eyes grow wide, a grin stretching across his face.

“C-Cummin’-!” you manage to gasp before you throw your head back. 

He groans, jaw falling open as he works you through the orgasm, rubbing your clit to ease you through every pleasurable wave. It’s only when you reach down, grabbing his wrist to stop him that he ceases. 

“Fuck,” you pant, pupils blown wide as he looks at you coming down. 

“Feels good cumming on cock, huh, sweetheart?” he asks, once again wearing that crooked grin on his face. 

You nod your head, still too fucked out from your orgasm to properly formulate words. He chuckles, carefully pulling back until only the thick head of him remains nestled inside. With a swift, experienced roll of his hips, he stuffs every single inch right back in. 

You wail, grappling haphazardly against his shoulders for stability as he starts to really fuck you. He punches so deep, makes you feel him in your tummy. The friction burns and feels incredible at the same time. 

It feels so fucking good that you can’t stop any of the sounds that are forced from your lungs with every mind-numbingly pleasurable thrust of his cock. You’re soaking him, dripping all creamy down his cock in a way he knows you’ve never done before. No way your own fingers could make you cream like this and he doubts you’ve ever sat this pretty cunt on any stupid toys. 

He groans, grinding against your clit every time he reaches as deep as he can, “Not gonna have shit to sell now, huh?”

You whimper, shaking your head as you stare at him wide eyed, drool dripping over your lips because you can’t close your mouth for even a second. There’s no way for you to quiet yourself, you’re loud, you wear every pleasurable experience on your face with no ability to hide or perform. Every reaction is real and authentic and he loves it. 

“Don’t think I can ever let you go after this, sweetheart,” he coos, slowing his thrusts so you can focus on looking at him, “That alright with you?”

You swallow thickly and shakily nod your head, “O-Only want you, J-Johnny.”

He snorts, sharp canines glinting at the predatory grin he gives you, “You only sayin’ that because you’re got your cunt stuffed full of my cock?”

You whimper at the punishing thrust he gives you, the pain of him battering your cervix making you tremble, “N-No! L-Liked you when I first saw y-you. I-I swear, Johnny. Please!”

“Alright, quit fuckin’ beggin’,” he snaps, leaning out of your reach, making you whine. 

He takes a mean grip of your hips, using just his strength to yank you onto his cock like a fleshlight. You wail, head tossed back against the couch as he really fucks you. Every thrust is too deep but gives you nothing but pleasure. He grinds against your clit every time he sinks in, making sure to also aim for the gooey little spot that gets you creaming around him. His fat, heavy balls slap against your ass every time he stuffs that cock into you. 

It’s all just too much. He should know better, really, treating a little virgin pussy so meanly. You’re too new to this, don’t know how to take such cruel, deep strokes. You’re squeezing tight, staring at him with wide, glassy eyes. He can’t stop the moan that tears from his throat at the sight of tears trickling down your cheeks – proof that this is all too much. 

But he doesn’t stop. He can’t stop. Not when he feels how tight you’re squeezing around him, how much wetter you’re getting as you get closer and closer to what he knows is going to be the best damn orgasm of your life. 

“Cum,” he whispers, shocked at how fucked his voice is from pleasure, “Cum right fuckin’ now.”

“W-Wait, Johnny-!” you wail, feet kicking as you fight against his iron-tight hold on you, “I-It’s…It feels w-wrong!”

“Stop fuckin’ runnin’,” he snarls, easily pinning you to the couch. He folds you up, knees to your chest as he presses his body weight down on you. He can feel the air being forced out of your lungs under the weight, “I said cum.”

You open your mouth, wanting to say something. But you can’t get the words you, only whimpers and tears. He doesn’t care what you had to say, though. All he cares about is feeling your tight little cunt cum around him so he can have his own orgasm. 

You still try to fight him from how intense the build up is. You slap against his shoulders, squirm and try to kick him off but he easily holds you down. Even as you fight, you never once tell him to stop. 

After a few, long seconds, he feels it. 

Fuck, does he feel it. 

You gush. It splatters all over his cock and stomach. He curses, slamming into you over and over, every thrust forcing another squirt out of you. You’re sobbing, fat tears falling down your cheeks and you’re moaning the prettiest damn symphony that has ever blessed his ears. 

The orgasm is too much, it’s intense and all consuming. You can’t come down, every time he stuffs you full, your orgasm continues to wash through you. 

“J-Johnny-!” you sob, “N-No more!”

“Fuck!” he snarls, cutting his own orgasm off when he pulls out of you. 

He pushes himself off of you and you curl in on yourself, softly sniffling and shaking in a little ball. He licks his dry lips at the sight of you covered in your own squirt. 

“C’mere, darlin’,” he coos, panting and breathy, hoisting you up and into his lap. 

He cradles you in his arms as you’re wracked with trembles and twitches, your nerves zapping through your body from the pleasure. He shushes you, cupping your chin to make you look at him. Your eyes are red-rimmed and wet from your tears, pupils blown out wide. He clicks his tongue and wipes his thumb underneath to swipe some away. 

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he coos, “Just get some breaths. Got a little overwhelmed, huh?”

You nod, slumping against him with a sigh when you finally feel like you’re back in your body. Johnny is solid and sweaty beneath you, warm and comfortable as he cups the back of your head and strokes his hand over your body. 

“I-I’ve never um…” you clear your throat, cheeks burning hot.

“Knocked your damn socks off, huh?” he jokes, a crooked smile on his face. 

You giggle, endorphins still rushing through your body. You shift on his lap and catch the pinch in his brow before he can school his expression back into place. You look down, biting your lip at the sight of his cock still hard and twitching, smeared in a creamy mess of your cum.

“Ah, it’ll go down on its own, darlin’,” he assures, no irritation to be seen or heard from him. 

One look in his eyes shows you that he’s perfectly prepared to go without his well-earned orgasm – just for you. 

But you don’t want that, you realize. He had made you feel incredible, given you an orgasm that you’ve never been able to experience in your life. You doubt anyone else will ever be able to make you do it again. 

“I-I want to help, Johnny,” you whisper, trying to swallow down your nerves. 

His brows raise in interest, “What did you have in mind?”

You slide off of his lap and slowly sink to your knees. You place your shaky hands on his thighs to steady yourself, looking up at him with wide, too-innocent eyes. 

He lets his head fall back against the back of the couch, a breathless, “steamin’ blood Jesus,” following. 

“I-I’ve never done this,” you confess, though he’s not surprised, “Is that okay?”

“Is that-” he laughs softly, “darlin’ any man who isn’t appreciative of you willin’ to swallow his cock is a man you kick in the balls, got that?”

You giggle, nerves dissipating as he wraps a hand around the base of him. You scoot a bit closer when he holds it out for you, waiting for you to do what you please with it. Your tongue falls from your mouth and Soap feels like he’s suspended in air as he watches you get closer and closer to the sensitive, leaky tip. 

The first contact feels better than he could have imagined. He’d gotten so fucking close earlier, buried in your cunt as you came around him, squealing for him and all. He knows it won’t take much to send him over the edge this time. 

Perfect practice for you, he thinks. You won’t have to be on your knees for too long or do any real work to get him to cum for you. 

You’re clumsy and it’s clear you’re unsure about the taste of his cock. It’s not just his precum, it’s your own cum mixed with it. He can’t blame you for being unsure.

He reaches down, a soft, gentle hand resting atop your head to encourage you. When you look up, he smiles so softly at you that it makes your heart jump in your chest. You suddenly feel like you’re the center of his world. Those baby blues never once waver from you as you sloppily lick and slurp on the tip of him. 

“Take a little more,” he whispers, lashes fluttering and chest rising as he takes a deep breath when you eagerly follow his directions. 

Your pretty lips stretch around the girth of him, taking just the head inside your hot little mouth. The flared glans are greeted by your curious tongue, making him whimper when you lick. Your mixed taste lingers on your tongue but you quickly grow accustomed to it. 

Feeling braver from Johnny’s unfiltered reactions, you take a little more into your mouth. Then more. And a little more until you suddenly choke, gagging around him. You pull your head off, sputtering and coughing a bit. 

Johnny coos at you, thumbing away some drool on your chin, “Not too deep, darlin’. You’re not ready for that.”

You hum, not at all discouraged from taking him back into your mouth again. You don’t take him as deep, accepting that you have your limit – for now, judging by Johnny’s subtle promise of more to come. 

“Just suck, watch your teeth,” he whispers, not caring about the way his voice cracks, “Move your head like this. Go at your own pace, alright?”

You lazily blink up at him, hoping he understands your agreement. You do as you’re told, folding your lips over your teeth to keep them away from his sensitive skin. Bobbing your head feels awkward and it makes your jaw ache but the sounds Johnny begins to make makes you temporarily forget about your own discomfort. 

His eyes are rolling back in his head and he starts to stroke the rest of his cock that your mouth can’t handle yet. You can’t tear your gaze away from the sight of those thick, veiny fingers wrapped around himself, getting covered in a slick mess of your cum that he had so generously fucked out of you earlier. Drooling all over him like this only gives him more of a mess to work with. It’s gross, frothy and dripping down your chin and neck, slicking up your tits.

It makes your cunt tingle selfishly. You think you could make yourself cum, slip your hand between your legs and stroke your clit until you find release. But you don’t – you focus on Johnny and his pleasure. He’d already given you so much that you don’t want to come across as greedy by making his moment about your own pleasure. 

Johnny’s free hand grip around the back of your neck, squeezing and caressing your skin as encouragement since his mouth is too busy moaning. You take his sounds as signals, sucking and moving at whatever pace makes him cry out the loudest. 

You had no idea men like him were willing to be as loud as he was. Usually, the masculine type of guys like him would be online whining about how moaning was ‘gay’ or some stupid shit.

Johnny didn’t seem to give a fuck. If he felt good, he was going to let you know. It made you feel more at ease, like you were doing a good job even though you knew you were still clumsy and it probably didn’t feel as good as head he’s surely gotten in the past. 

But it encouraged you to work harder to please him, to earn more of those beautiful, unfiltered moans that he was so willing to give you. They were your reward for the intense ache in your jaw.

“F-Fuck,” he groans, suddenly, eyes opening from when he had closed them at some point, “I’m gonna cum. Oh fuck, you’re gonna make me cum.”

His words are slurred, like his brain’s oozed down to his cock, too stupid to think of anything except how heavy and full his balls felt. 

“Shit, shit, shit-!” he whimpers, an honest to god whimper, “Off, pull off!”

You do as you’re told, releasing his cock from your mouth. Strings of frothy drool connect your lips to his tip and you don’t dare break it, the sight making you clench around nothing. 

Johnny strokes his cock, another loud moan erupting from his lips as he cums. It spurts out, splattering against your cheek, making you flinch in surprise. You can see the way his balls throb in time to each rope of cum that his fat cock spits out. More splatters on your cheeks and lips and across your nose until it tapers off to slow, thick oozes that dribble over his knuckles. 

When he lets himself go, he sags against the couch, staring dazedly at the ceiling as his erection flags and grows soft. 

When he finally looks at you, you can see his eyes widen almost in alarm. He leans forward, cupping your cheek, messily swiping some of his cum off of your cheek.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he mumbles, still sounding breathless, “Didn’t think you were gonna get splashed with it.”

“It’s okay,” you whisper, feeling his cum still lingering on your lips.

You can’t resist sticking your tongue out to taste it. His eyes darken at the sight of you licking up his cum. You don’t make a face of disgust like he expected, instead he catches the way your thighs clench together.

“Is that right?” he mumbles, cock twitching in interest, “Isn’t that an interesting development? You like to taste cum, sweetheart?”

You whimper when he swipes more up onto his thumb, bringing it to your lips for you to suck off, which you eagerly do. You suck his finger clean until he pulls it back out, pupils blown wide, making his blue eyes look black.

“You ever had that pretty cunt eaten before?” he asks, a predatory grin splitting across his face when you shake your head.

His hand wraps around your throat, ripping a moan out of your throat. He easily manhandles you onto your knees, tits pressed against the cushions of the couch with a nasty “stay.”

You never thought you’d enjoy being manhandled and ordered around like a dog but fuck if you’re not learning more about yourself tonight. 

Soap smacks your thighs apart, and slips his head between them. You take a glance down and nearly choke at the sight of him laying on his back, staring hungrily as you cunt drips gooey, sticky strings right onto his waiting tongue that he holds out for it. 

The sight is so fucking filthy. 

But it’s nothing compared to the sounds he makes when he gets that tongue on your cunt. He slurps between your folds, groaning at the taste of your cum on his taste buds. He swallows your clit, cheeks hollowing out as he sucks. 

You’re already a moaning mess, crying out into the cushions which you claw desperately at. Your eyes roll up into your head when you feel him pop your clit out of his mouth, spit on it, and then slurp it right back up. 

He eats so fucking dirty, it’s disgusting and sloppy. But it makes you rut your hips against him. 

Soap chuckles, pulling back to watch you work your hips over nothing before you realize he stopped and whine.

“Fuck yourself on my tongue then,” he whispers, earning him a relenting whimper in response. 

You can feel the flat of his tongue, hot and thick, against your clit. The little bud’s so hard, swollen and pulsing against the muscle. 

With his order ringing in the back of your head, you clumsily hump his tongue. You drag your sensitive little clit back and forth along the surface of his tongue. It feels so fucking good that you actually sob. The sound tears from your chest and makes his cock twitch. 

You rut faster and faster, not caring about the way you’re messing up his face when you move too high or too low. You know there’s a mess on his chin, cheeks and nose but you don’t care. His tongue is there for you, for you to cum all over. He’s so good to you, holding it out just so you can use him as you please. 

As you grow closer and closer, your moans change in pitch and he suddenly reaches up, stilling you. You groan, an irritated sound that makes him laugh. You frown at that but it’s quickly wiped away when he grips your ass, spreading your cheeks apart so he can stuff his tongue into your creaming cunt. 

You shout, sitting straight up in surprise, your weight falling onto his face. He moans at that, rewarding you by pushing his tongue even deeper. It feels odd, different from his fingers and his cock. It’s soft and almost slimy, not long enough to quite reach any pleasurable place. 

But just the fact that he’s got his tongue buried in your pussy is enough to have you clenching on it. He watches you through heavy lids, waiting to see what your next move is. 

He’s enjoying your little show, he must admit. He likes seeing a sweet, clumsy virgin experience these things for the first time. He likes the fact he’s breaking you in, tearing your walls down and seeing you lost in mind-numbing pleasure. 

You surprise him by resuming the motion of your hips. You hump back and forth, riding his tongue like it’s a little toy just for you. And he supposes it is, he’d be a toy for you if you so wished. He’s addicted to this sweet, creamy little pussy and he’s not afraid to admit it. 

You reach down, swirling your fingers around your sticky clit. There’s lewd clicks that accompany the movements along with the sound of his tongue sliding in and out of your hole. 

You meet his gaze, he’s staring so intensely at you. It spurs you on, makes you fuck yourself on his face more confidently. 

You tap your fingers against your clit, slapping the little bud and pulling your fingers back to show Soap the sticky strings of slick that connect them to your cunt. He can’t stop himself from reaching down, wrapping his hand around his cock, jerking himself off to the sight of you smacking your clit and fucking his tongue. 

You’re pulsing around it, dripping down his face and mixing with the drool that's pooling out of his mouth. His face is a mess, it drips down his cheeks and under his neck. He’s sure there’s a pool beneath his head that will need to be cleaned up and fuck, he’ll lick it from the floor if you let him. Just as long as he gets to taste you again. 

You gasp, tossing your head back. His cock fucking aches, harder than it was before and more sensitive now that he’s already had an orgasm. He knows he’s leaking, drooling sticky precum all over himself like the horny mutt he is. 

You cum spectacularly, twitching and trembling, rubbing your clit and clenching around his tongue. It’s like a reward, swallowing down your cum straight from the source. He pulls his tongue out of your hole and wraps his lips around your clit again. 

You wail, shaking and throwing yourself face down against the couch again. You try to wrench your hips away from his punishing mouth but he wraps his arms around your thighs and continues to slurp and slobber all over that tender little bud. Your eyes roll back in your head as another orgasm tears through you, far too soon after the other. It almost hurts from how sensitive you are through it, not even able to make a sound as it washes over you. 

Only when you’re left twitching and trembling does he finally relent. There’s tears falling out of your eyes and drool dribbling down your chin. The picture of fucked out.

He laughs, folding himself over your back. 

“You still with me?” he asks, kissing your shoulder.

You whimper, “Fuck, you’re so good, Johnny.”

He chuckles, “Think you can take more?”

You eagerly nod your head and he doesn’t waste any time. He sinks his cock into you in one deep thrust. You choke on a moan, arching your back so you can feel him even deeper. 

He doesn’t start slow like he did before. He knows your little cunt is fucked nice and open for him now. You’re still dazed, drunk on endorphins, any attempts to meet his thrusts are sloppy and clumsy. It’s cute so he doesn’t bother stopping you. 

“Spread your legs,” he orders you but doesn’t wait for you to do it. 

Instead, he meanly knocks them apart, opening you up even more. His balls slap against your clit and you wail, the exact reaction he was hoping for.

“There you go,” he laughs, “You liked slapping that little clit earlier. How’s this?”

“So good!” you cry, kicking your feet against the floor as pleasure washes through you. 

You feel like a live wire, every movement forcing you closer and closer to your next orgasm. Soap isn’t far behind you, too sensitive and worked up to draw it out for long. 

He clasps the back of your neck, pinning your face to the cushions as he fucks. He takes and takes, using your sticky, gooey cunt. He’s pounding into you, hips slamming against your ass and his balls slapping your clit. 

You can’t even say anything as the orgasm washes over you. He only feels it, the rhythmic clenching of your walls and the gush as you squirt. You’re silent, completely still against the couch as he saws his fat cock in and out, squirt after squirt of cum splattering all over his thighs until he inevitably reaches his own end. 

This time, he fills you up. Seats himself as deeply inside of you as he can before he moans. His cock pathetically spits only a few strings of cum but the orgasm lasts far longer, encouraged along by the clenching of your cunt as you’re coming down. Or maybe you’re still cumming, he’s not sure. 

There’s a faraway look in your eyes, a wet spot of drool underneath your cheek on the cushion of the couch. You’re panting and glistening with sweat. When he pulls out of you, you drop to sit on the floor, the measly load he had given you drooling out of your cunt as it continues to clench and throb around nothing. 

Fuck, he’s never felt so proud to fuck someone brainless before. He knows you’re gonna need a good bath and cozy arms to sleep in. 

And his are the best around, if he does say so himself. 

He kisses up your spine, curling himself around you as you finally start to come back to yourself, pliant and soft. The both of you sit there, holding one another and sharing soft kisses until he decides it’s time to move. 

He’s in no rush, though. He’s wrapped around your finger now and you’re never getting rid of him. 

do not modify, translate, repost, or use for c.ai. reblogs OK!

[confused-wanderer]

It would be hilarious if villains loved Nightwing and were terrified of Officer Dick Grayson.

Dick Grayson- who is used to open spaces and adrenaline- being stuck in a boring bleak office, surviving on shots of coffee and red bull with caffeine that would make Tim concerned.

The thugs soon realised that unlike most of the other cops - Dick was from Gotham.

No one fucks with Gothamites.

Villain *shooting at Dick with machine guns*

Dick *appearing from the shadows behind him*: Boo.

Villain: THIS IS A FIVE STOREY BUILDING HOW THE HELL DID YOU GET HERE

Or

Thief *throwing a counting down bomb at Dick*

Dick: *catching and tossing the bomb at a safe distance before turning round and shooting it so it explodes mid air while running after thief*

Thief: .. what the actual fuck

Dick: Gee look at all that time you had! Shame you threw it away :D

Thief:

Dick: I’m from Gotham

Thief *realising they fucked up* : Please don’t steal my bones

OR

Shooter: *sets elaborate booby traps throughout the houses in an active hostage situation*

Dick *using his training as robin and inhuman flexibility to surpass them with ease*: Ah been a while since I got to have a nice stretch thank you.

Shooter:

Dick:

Shooter:

Dick: .. Hi :)

Shooter: Are you Satan?

AND

In interrogation room

Murderer: I think I’ll take your eyes and add them to my collection

Dick *running on spite and caffeine that could give Superman a sugar rush* : Funny.. I was going to say the same thing to you

Murderer: .. what

Dick: I wouldn’t take your eyes though.. they look like the inspiration behind the whole Medusa’s “look at it and you turn to stone” thing-

Murderer: Hey! Take that back before I gut you

Dick *smile stretching wider without blinking* : oh? Or what? I know everything about you. Who says I can’t kill you and walk out with everyone being none the wiser? I know how to kill someone too..you aren’t special.

Murderer:

Murderer: I’m scared for my safety.

Because the thing is, Nightwing is who Dick really is. It’s who he can be free as, be himself as without red tapes and regulations. Where he can give as good as he gets, and he’s kind and empathetic. He gets to help the downtrodden and goes easy on most of them if they give up right away, not to mention the fact that he never causes permanent damage.

But officer Dick Grayson is a different story. He runs on sleepless nights and no self preservation. Seeing an officer with an uncanny skill set they’re scarily good at, not to mention the cheery attitude he always has scares the shit out of criminals. Cuz no way in hell is a smiling Gothamite not a deranged one. He chases crimes like a bloodhound, and isn’t afraid to make good on threats he makes to ensure they never hurt anyone again.

Bonus if the batfam doesn’t know about this.

Red hood: Shit I can’t believe we ended up in Bludhaven

Red Robin *tying up the corrupt politican* : Since this is a sensitive case, we need someone we can trust to make sure it is seen through.

Red hood: .. So we paying a visit to Officer Grayson?

Politician *screeching* : NO NO NO NO! PLEASE NOT HIM!! JUST KILL ME INSTEAD AND TAKE ALL MY MONEY I CANT DEAL WITH HIM!

Red hood: .. is he fucking serious?

Henchmen: Sir he is. And we agree. Please take our bones and kill us but don’t take us to Officer Grayson.

Red Robin: Wait what did he do?

Henchman 1: He asked boss if the hat was sentient.. and said that if it was would it make that hat the top and boss the bottom.

Henchman 2: Last time we met I tried to shoot him but suddenly my gun was blank and he raised his hand and let the ammo drop

Red Hood: Well even I could do that-

Henchman 2: They were my bullets. I had selected the colour personally.

Red robin *growing concerned*

Henchman 3: He sang a lullaby to a child when we were holding the station hostage, and replaced the people with my family members. He even sang their social security numbers!

Henchman 4: He’s the most dangerous of them all. I ain’t shitting ya when I say he’s as scary as the bat from Gotham.

*all nodding in agreement*

Red hood:

Red Robin:

Red hood: Nah that doesn’t sound like Dick

Red Robin: Agreed. Let’s go there Hood.

*villains’ sobbing intensifies*

[awrkive]

NEIGHBOR BLUNDER, pt. 1 — JJK

in hindsight, you should have seen it coming. had always known your luck – or lack of it, thereof – and the universe's meticulous plan of your downfall made it easy for you to get tangled up in a series of unfortunate events, which presents itself as the neighbor that lives across from you, jeon jungkook.

PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader

GENRE r18+ (fluff, angst, (eventual) smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

CHAPTER WORD COUNT 18.2k

CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC neighbor!jk, bsf!jimin, accountant!oc software engineer!jk, jk and jimin are chaebols lol, minjoon boyfriends <<<<3 mature language, this chapter's pretty tame (for now) but theres a lot of FLIRTING, if u squint this story is a mosaic of every shows i love lmfao, for the apartment complex just imagine the namil villa from the kdrama fight for my way NB!JK VISUALS

NOTES hello im back!!!!! remember the jk in tech xmas fic i told you about last year? this is it except its not a xmas fic anymore lmfao. had an idea to make it a full blown story and im just sooo excited to share it with u guys on this platform!!!!! if ur from wattpad, the chapter system is gonna be a little different here but the content is not <3 anyway let me know what u guys think!

READ ON WATTPAD | AO3

PART ONE | TWO

You never settled your relationship with the summer season. To put it simply, it was a love and hate sort of thing; you liked that it was dry, and the air always felt like it was filtered and healthy even though you were well-aware of the current shit-state of the Earth's ozone layer. There were beams and sunlights and street vendors and people lying on the park's ground. Summer felt nostalgic, like the first time you bought a vinyl in highschool and listened to Fleetwood Mac in secret because your mom was certain they peddled cocaine and all sorts of illegal drugs, and with a highschool friend you no longer talk to, not because of a friendship-breaking betrayal but something more melancholic than that like drifting apart as you got older — the ambience, generally, was what you loved the most about it.

But regardless of those, summer got hot. Sure, you could forgo layers of clothing and it was always nice to lounge about in short bottoms and strapless tops and sandals, but at the end of the day, you needed to set your AC on the lowest temp, and it cranks up your monthly rent a greater percentage which causes a detrimental result to your monthly pay. (And you always had to reapply make-up every now and then whenever you went outside because if not, you'd be a sweating mess.)

In the grand scheme of things, though, there was nothing more than you disliked than Park Jimin, your best friend since college, asking you to be his plus-one on his mom's birthday dinner. For the second time.

“I told you, Jimin, I’m not doing that anymore. Your mom called me fat and recommended a bunch of expensive skin care products to treat one single zit on the side of my forehead the last time you brought me there. I hid that with my bangs and she still saw it, like what the hell? The baked lasagna might have tasted good but I’m not stepping one foot in your house ever again.” You spat out, rolling your eyes at your friend who just dramatically flopped himself on your bed.

“Okay, so I’m really sorry about my mom. She’s a…” He trailed off, looking at you with meaningful eyes that weighed words you knew he couldn't exactly say without feeling bad, and you sighed. Nodded in understanding. Jimin’s face contorted into a cringed expression at that. “... yeah. But! Please. I swear! This is the last time. I just really need you to be there. They’re setting me up with Heesu, okay? You know that snotty nepo baby of the Kang clan who owns Kang Tech?”

“Jimin, you’re a nepo baby.”

He hit you with a pillow. “I am but I can earn a hundred thousand won without my family’s money. They can cut my credit cards and I'll still be thriving.”

You broke the serious demeanor and laughed loudly at his seemingly confident claim.

“I’m sorry but you could not even get a job at a burger joint without some nepotism let alone have a hundred thousand without your dad’s credit cards. Bitch, you’re just lying.”

“Fuck you. I was employee of the week at Seventh Street Burger.” He backfired, referring to that point in time in your sophomore year where you picked up a part time job during the summer at a burger joint and Jimin just decided to come along randomly. He got it because the owner knew of his dad.

“Yeah, because Sowon had a crush on you?” You said, remembering the owner’s daughter, who was also helping out at the store at that time. She was so smitten by Jimin you almost felt bad for her.

“Okay, fair, point taken. No need to be such a bitch about it,” Your best friend said with a dismissive wave of his hand, telling he was over it. You only laughed at that, boisterously, might you add, just to piss him off for no reason. Jimin deadpanned. “But seriously. I think they’re planning to marry me off to Heesu.”

Your face fell out of genuine concern this time.

“Oh my god, really?”

Jimin once again cringed visibly. “Yeah. I mean from a business lense it makes sense. But me marrying at 33? That makes me – like – a child groom.”

“Oh… yeah…” you trailed off, sympathizing with him. Not that you've ever been in the situation where your parents forced you in a sham marriage for their own wealth because there was no wealth to begin with. But you felt bad for Jimin. You always have, when it came to this particular subject.

You knew how it was with rich people, having known Jimin for almost half your life. It was true that arranged marriages were still a thing, and while Jimin seemed that he could pretty much do everything he wanted because of his free-spirited nature, his parents could still most likely make him marry someone he barely knew. Solely for business.

“Ugh.” Jimin groaned. “Should I just come out at the dinner so they can stop linking me to women? I’m gay as fuck, man. My cousin Park Youngdam would have a field day given that homophobic fucktard has been calling me the f word ever since he learned it in seventh grade.”

You shook your head, visibly cringing at his words. You didn't have family yourself. It was your mom who raised you alone for all your life, until she died five years ago. Didn't know any extended family. But frankly, you thought it was better that way than to deal with a complicated family like Jimin's.

“Nah. I mean if you’re ready, well, do it. But like, your parents are…” You two shared a look together again, and Jimin just slapped his palms over his face, indicating his doom. Your face twisted with another shot of deeper sympathy for him.

“This is it for me. They’ll marry me off to Kang Heesu and we’ll fly to the US and live in Massachusetts to fulfill her white picket fence fantasy. I’ll be a miserable husband and she'll be an even more miserable wife because she’ll eventually find out I’m gay. The neighbors will start talking and the white republicans will shun me out of the town church. We’ll have a surrogate baby and—”

“Jimin, what the fuck!” You hit him hard on his arm as you couldn't keep a straight face anymore at his dramatic monologue. “You’re not gonna marry Heesu and you won't live in fuckass Massachusetts and no one’s gonna shun you out of the town church and you won't have a surrogate baby.”

“It’s a possibility.” Jimin shrugged.

“I feel like you're guilt-tripping me into agreeing to be your date again at your mom's birthday dinner and I think that's very evil of you.” You said, squinting your eyes at him.

“Well, duh? But also, I’m really kind of lowkey highkey scared they’ll marry me off to someone now that I’m pushing forty.”

"You're quite literally seven years away from forty." You countered.

He looked at you with an expression of I know right! And he told you so.

"That's what I said to mom and dad, but they're acting like my sperm will freeze next year. God, I can't stand them!" 

Jimin, for all his jokes and unserious and bitchy behavior, was someone extremely important to you. Yeah, sure, he was rich as hell and he annoys you when he says something that reeks of too much nepotism but he was never intentionally snotty, never thinks he was better than everyone else (Jokes about how he thinks he has the fattest and juiciest ass in the world, though), and he wasn't at all like the rich people you've had the misfortune of interacting with at his mom's birthday party last year. He might be a self-proclaimed bitch but if you put him together with those people, he might as well be one of God's disciples.

For all his crass language and rather strong personality, Jimin was a doting friend who was there for you every single time. You could call him up at 3 am and he’d be at your door bringing Chinese take out and two tubs of ice cream, ready to hear you vent about your stupid job or a guy that you fumbled by being weird and off-putting because you didn't know how to handle a relationship. He was the kind of friend who would defend you in front of anyone else but will mercilessly tell you off and list down all points of your stupidity once you were in closed doors. He was the kind of friend that would ask you to be his pretend partner at a birthday dinner party, but he was your best friend ultimately and even if you had a big problem with his family and their extremely traditional (read: toxic) ways, you didn't want him to be pressured into coming out just so he could avoid to be engaged off to another random heiress. Didn't want him to do something he wasn't ready for. Didn't want him hurt or anything of the sort.

The last dinner wasn't even that bad, if you were to be honest. His parents were shitty, yeah sure, and the other guys in there that consisted of politicians and businessmen and people in the showbiz industry were something taken out of the toilet bowl for how stinky their elitist, better-than-you personalities were, but you both just totally forgot all about it by getting wasted at the local bar right after leaving. Not that his mom’s words didn't sting a bit or didn't make you a little conscious, but at the end of the day, you weren't actually dating Jimin so you didn't care what his parents thought of you.

Additionally, you didn't have something planned for the next two weeks when the birthday would be happening. You were supposed to, but that ship has long sailed when you fumbled a date with the guy at the IT department. For the record, you didn't really like him that much and he talked too much about his job and while you didn't mind that, it was getting a little too tiring. If you wanted IT lessons you would’ve majored in it in college. Still, Shin Taemu was handsome. And he wore those rounded glasses. Was tall. Had nice arms. Too bad he wanted to be the next Mark Zuckerberg. Fuck that guy.

“Ugh, I don't know,” you groaned. “It's just so disgusting to be your girlfriend, okay?”

Jimin audibly gasped. “How dare you? A lot would jump on this ass.” He said with incredulity seeping through his voice, pointing to his bum.

You rolled your eyes. “Not me, obviously. Before you take offense—”

“Offense taken.”

“—it’s just that you're like my cousin and when you call me honey I want to crawl out of my own skin.”

Jimin laughed at that while you looked miserable, remembering those moments from last year. Seriously, how could you have fooled anyone in that party that you were banging? You swore you looked like Ariana Grande and Troye Sivan in that one music video? (Jimin was the one who showed that meme to you, by the way.)

“So I won't call you honey. Just babe.”

“Ew.” You quickly retaliated.

“Ohh, the homophobia is sho-wing.” Jimin sing-sang, ever the mature individual he was.

“Fuck off, seriously.”

Jimin just giggled and then scooted closer to you. “No but like, are you coming? ‘Cause jokes aside, I'm just gonna find someone else if you really don't wanna do it. But you know you're always my first choice.”

“First choice when you do some stupid shit.” you countered, rolling your eyes for the nth time that night. Jimin would be the cause of your eye surgery if ever they got dislocated or something.

“That’s my biggest act of love.”

“I don't want it.”

“I’ll double what I paid you last year.”

“Double it again and give it to the next person?”

Jimin flipped you off. “I’ll give you my nintendo and I’ll get you a card at that coffee shop you love so much.”

That caught your attention. You raised your brow. “On god?”

“When did I ever lie to you?”

You deadpanned. “We won't finish this conversation if I list all the times—”

“Okay, okay, point taken. But I'm really serious. Please, please, please, please be my pretend girlfriend on my mom's birthday party please, please—”

“Shut up. Ugh,” you could already feel the big smile creeping up Jimin’s face when you let out a big sigh. “Okay, I’ll do it. Buy me boba now.”

Jimin tackled you to the bed and hugged you and kissed your forehead.

“Thank you! Best best friend ever.” he delightfully said, grinning widely, eyes almost disappearing in his triumph.

Your face contorted into a disgusted expression while Jimin just laughed as you pushed him so hard he almost fell off the bed.

“You are a disgusting limpy sack of dicks! Also, I’m not your best best friend, you don't have a wide selection. I'm your best friend. Period.”

“Unfortunately.” He waved you off and when you were about to retort something his phone suddenly rang. You watched quietly as he put it over his ear. “Hey, you just landed?”

If it was a private conversation Jimin would've left the room but since he didn't, you decided to stay in bed, kind of listening in to the conversation, but also not, as you turned the volume down of the show you were watching earlier on your laptop.

“Nah, you want me to pick you up?” Jimin sat up on the edge of the bed and you looked at him curiously. “Sure, I’m free, Kook. You have a place to stay? Hotel suite or something?” He nodded to whatever the other person was saying on the other line. “Oh, you're here for three months? Thought you were just flying in for mom's birthday?”

It was moments after they said goodbye that Jimin turned to you to ask, “Well, my cousin’s apparently staying here for three months. Got this job thing going on.”

“Is that one of the non-problematic twenty percent cousin lineage of your very complicated family tree?" You asked, referring to him telling you one time that his family, including the extended ones, was eighty percent shitty and twenty percent decent.

Jimin chuckled at the inside joke. "Well, yeah, he's one of the good ones. Knows I'm gay."

"Oh, nice."

Jimin stood up from your bed. “I’ll get you your boba and head off. Gotta pick cousin up or he’ll start throwing tantrums at the airport.”

“Add extra pearls please.” You told him, watching as he clicked away on his phone to get you your drink.

“I spoil you too much.” Jimin said, clicking his tongue, eyes still on his phone.

“What are you here for if not my glorified sugar daddy?”

“I will kill myself in front of you.” Jimin deadpanned, getting a chuckle out of you.

You didn't know the psychology — or if there even was psychology — behind feeling embarrassed when you were about to cross a path while carrying huge boxes. It was a normal task, and yet, it always felt like a huge walk of shame when you did it.

It was probably because you had to carry it over a flight of stairs, and there was no way you wouldn't trip on yourself carrying two heavy boxes in your hands that were already disrupting your vision.

Maybe it was your fault for choosing the pick-up option when you were checking out these furniture online, all because there was a huge increase on the fee for door-to-door delivery. For the record, there was a huge gap and the boxes were not really that heavy to the point you could not carry them both. It's just a lamp and a portable desk, you thought a week ago when you opted for the pick-up option, I could carry it all the way to the unit just fine — and obviously, your delusion has resulted to this very moment.

As soon as you managed to walk over five steps, you felt as if your oxygen supply just got cut back, panting like someone fresh from a marathon. Damn. You definitely needed to work out a little. Maybe do some squats for your New Year’s resolution, commit to it for three days straight then forget about it for the next 362 days of the year.

You looked ahead of you and a string of curses let themselves out of your mouth automatically as you estimated the number of stairs you needed to get through to get to your apartment.

This day sucked! It was Sunday and you planned to wake up at five am to have a productive day but then you slept through your five alarms and woke up at eleven am instead. You ran out of eggs and you had to go to the convenience store to eat a sad meal of yogurt and kimbap. And now there were these boxes that you needed to carry over what seemed to look like six million of stairs. You weren't Sisyphus! And where were your goddamn neighbors when you needed them?

"You need help, ma'am?"

"Jesus Christ—" you turned to look to your right only to see a man who seemed to own the previous voice.

And Jesus Christ, indeed.

He was wearing a white shirt and some shorts, Nike sliders on his feet and a pair of headphones on. He was wearing glasses. And he had a tattoo sleeve.

What the fuck.

What the fuck!

It has been so long since you thought a man was crazily attractive. Okay, well sure, the guys from the IT department were something else (or you just had a weird eyeglasses fetish, Jimin once pointed out, that you still — to this day — vehemently try to deny) but you’ve never been this taken aback by someone’s face before.

The guy’s lips tilted a bit, some sort of greeting maybe, and you quickly looked away, embarrassed, fearing that he caught you looking at him longer than necessary.

Oh god. This was pathetic! He was a stranger! He was a man! He just had a cute face attached to a very good body with an arm full of tattoos and he was tall but you were sure he wasn’t six feet two. Also, he had hair that looked fluffy from where you stood and a pair of eyeglasses but Jimin was just bluffing when he said you had a fetish for them. Right?

You were performing mental gymnastics until you realized he was asking a question.

"Oh! Uh, no, thank you. It's fine." You said, embarrassed at the way you almost jumped in surprise earlier.

But the whole thing was ridiculous. What, because there was a very fine man across from you the universe suddenly decided to fuck up your fate by making you be seen by that very man struggling with boxes all the way up to your unit? Couldn't it just have been on a day when you did your make-up and dressed up in that overpriced dress you bought hundred bad choices ago?

You fumbled with the boxes a little bit before continuing your way up, nevermind the guy whose response you didn't wait for because you needed to get the fuck away from him before you say something weird and off-putting.

Truthfully, you could use the help. But at what cost? A fine man carrying them? Okay, that wasn’t so bad. But what were you supposed to do with... all of that?

As if the universe was indeed trying to prove to you that you were, in fact, not its favorite creation, you almost tripped. And the guy most definitely saw it.

Fuck.

You turned to the side to see him looking at you, concern etching his face. You wanted to convince yourself that it was genuine concern because you'd commit something that would totally change the trajectory of his life if he was to laugh.

But you thought his own unit must be way up as well, as he was going to the same path as you, and if that was the case, he must have been a new neighbor in the complex because you've never seen the man before.

“Well, it’s not that heavy but…” you trailed off, looking blankly at the cardboard boxes. And then at him. "I could use some help, if you don't mind."

The guy just chuckled. Oh wow, his laugh was very... low.

You didn’t even know what the fuck that meant.

“I’ll get them for you.” He said, crossing the small distance between you and taking over the pile, leaving you with nothing in your hands.

“Oh, no, I’ll have that one. It’s fine.” You said, stepping closer to take the other one but he was already securing it in his hold, with stability this time, ready to take off.

He let out a small laugh again and you bit your tongue to not think about how cute he looked. If he was a new tenant, you hoped you didn't cross paths with him ever again.

"It's okay, ma'am."

He's got to stop calling you that before you do something drastic.

“It’s quite far from here, I'm all the way up to three-three-six.” You uttered, pointing forward, a few steps behind the guy, who hummed at what you said.

You quickly caught up to him. "Really, thanks for doing this."

"No problem, it's nothing." He said, smiling at you. Warm and kind. All cute. "I'm all the way up to four-four-six as well."

Your eyes widened. "No way, that's just across mine."

The stranger, apparently your neighbor now, grinned.

"Nice coincidence, huh?"

A sheepish smile formed on your lips. You didn't dwell on that comment too much. Knew it was just small talk.

"If you don't mind me asking, are you a new tenant here?” You asked out of genuine curiosity. You had never seen someone come out of the unit across from you out of all the four years you'd been here.

He nodded, agreeing with what you presumed.

"Yeah. Just temporary, though.”

“Oh…” A surprised sound. Maybe it was a good thing he was only staying temporarily... “I hope I didn’t inconvenience you or anything. You really don’t need to bring the boxes over to my apartment.”

The man just chuckled, dismissing your worry. “You looked like you could use a hand, these boxes are big. Anyway, I was just out checking 'round town. Settling in.”

From the sound of it, you'd assume he was not only moving in in a new apartment complex, but new city as well. Perhaps country? But he most definitely looked Korean. But maybe he came from abroad. Who knows.

“Yeah, there's a really nice coffee shop three blocks away. You should check it out sometime. Ji—my friend and I are obsessed with their iced caramel macchiato. And the boba.”

His brows furrowed in pure interest. “That must've been the one I passed by this morning. I’ll make sure to try that one.”

“You really should. And the barista gives you a brownie on Sundays if he likes you.” You shared like it was gossip, mentally taking note to visit the cafe sometime this week.

“And I'm sure not everybody gets the privilege?” The guy looked at you funny, and that made you laugh.

"Of course, yes! You have to earn it, I think. I feel like I spent over a million there before he started giving me brownies."

"Hope my charm works on him as well," he said, and it caught you off guard.

What did he mean, "as well"? Like he was speaking from the basis that you had charm and so he hoped he had it as well to get the barista to like him?

"Well. He's strict." Was all you could say, before you spotted your apartment. "Hey, I'll take it over from here."

The guy looked over the plated number on the door, reading three-three-six just as you said earlier. Trudging forward, he set the boxes down on the side of the porch.

"Thank you, really. This was really nice of you."

You extended your gratitude once again as if you didn't spend the walk up to here thanking him non-stop, sounding like a broken record. Thank god the guy didn't seem to mind your over-the-top gratitude, only waving his hand.

"Told you, it's fine. You need help with a few boxes again and just ring me up across," He joked, turning around slightly and looking at the door across your unit, Unit 446. It earned a chuckle from you. His face turned serious now, but there was still a charming smile on his face. “Hey. I’m actually pretty new in this town. I was thinking about visiting a few restaurants downtown, maybe you could recommend me some?”

You didn't mean to, but you took note the way his doe eyes seemed to shimmer even behind the frame of his glasses.

“My favorites are just, like, a ten-minute walk away. There’s this restobar near that drugstore when you turn left from this building, right?” The guy nodded, and you were slightly delighted he knew right away. “Yeah, their ramen's great, you'd thank me forever.”

He chuckled at the way you said it and you smiled.

Your interactions with new people were always a range from pure silence to oversharing; talking to them like they were your long lost friend whom you’ve milked goats with in your father’s orchard. It was probably just a product of introversion; not knowing the right approach to socializing.

“Thanks for the recommendation.” He said, a genuine appreciative tone lacing his words.

“You’re welcome. If I can ring you up to help me with some boxes, you can ring me up for some restaurant recommendation.”

"It's an exchange, then. Deal."

"Why not?" You shrugged, laughing along with him when he did so.

You both stood there for a while until seconds passed. You didn’t know exactly how to end the conversation, not that you wanted to, but there was nothing that went to your head to talk about more. And besides, he was probably headed somewhere, so you began to speak.

“Hey, so I’m going in—”

“What about we—”

“Oh.” You stopped. “Sorry, what was that?”

The guy just shook his head. “Nah, you’re probably busy. Thanks for the recommendation again.”

“No, seriously, sorry I didn't hear it the first time...”

“I was just gonna ask about the name of the restaurant.”

“It’s Midday Miso.” You told him, smiling.

“Midday Miso,” The guy nodded, “Yeah. Got it. Thanks again.”

“You’re welcome, and, uh, thanks. For the help.”

You took your keys out from your shorts and you didn’t expect to still see him standing in front of you when you turned around. You jokingly squinted your eyes at him.

“Yeah, you first, get in.” He said with a low chuckle.

It was a little embarrassing and pretty stupid how your heart fluttered a bit at that.

“What a gentleman you are,” You respond with a snort, opening the door to your unit and pushing the boxes inside your apartment. When they were in, you turned to look at the guy again, saying, “Okay, bye for real. See you around. Hope you like Midday Miso if you try it. And the coffee shop. It's called Brown Coffee.”

“See you around.” He did a little wave that made you both laugh before you closed the door.

When the lock system clicked, you stood on your doorway for a little while.

And then fake-cried.

You quickly clicked on Jimin's pinned contact on your phone.

You [5:35pm]: JIMINNNNNNNNN You [5:35pm]: POP EMERGENCY You [5:35pm]: POP EMERGENCY BITCH IF U DONT RESPOND You [5:36pm]: I HAVE A DIABOLICAL CRUSH AND ITS GOING IN THE MEMOIRRRRRR

It wasn’t even one full minute when Jimin replied.

cuntress #1 [5:37pm]: oh my god SHUT UP!!! im at a training program for ghis stupid ass company my fathers been running fir 600 years cuntress #1 [5:37pm]: whats up cuntress #1 [5:38pm]: its always a crush and never a job 😒

You [5:39pm]: yeh so remember when i told u im oacking up my vagina last summer

cuntress #1 [5:39pm]: many such times

You [5:40pm]: 🖕 You [5:40pm]: SO raincheck!!! You [5:41pm]: COZ I just met a fine man at my apartment AND flirted with him You [5:41pm]: i think

cuntress #1 [5:42pm]: ohhhhh OK???? cuntress #1 [5:43pm]: cuntress #2 flirting???? now thats not uninteresting go on while i fake a restroom break 👀

You [5:45pm]: this story is not for the imessages baby get ur ass up and ICE CREAM WITH ME NOW.

cuntress #1 [5:46pm]: omg 😭😭😭😭 cuntress #1 [5:46pm]: i’ll be off 7:30pm wait for me 😭😭😭 cuntress #1 [5:47pm]: i also have #stories to tell

You [5:49pm]: 🤭

There must be a time where you finally grow up and learn to cook.

You were a twenty-eight-year-old woman and yet, your meals sadly ranged from instant noodles, canned goods, and food from the nearby twenty-four-hour provision shop. Sometimes, you had the gall to cook something from scratch—but with scratch you meant scratching off the labels from food take-outs and reheating them in your microwave.

Jimin had told you one time you would die at twenty-nine with your lifestyle. You told him he couldn't tell you shit because he didn't know how to cook either, he just worked out and ate healthy stuff, and you did, too! But Jimin knew you, and in an evil manner, clocked you with, "Buying fresh produce and not consuming them does not count as healthy living."

Anyway, you never understood why you were so bad at cooking. Your mother, as you remembered her, was decent at it but you guessed it was because she never really taught you and you never really bothered, either. In some immature way of thinking, you'd like to think it was a win for feminism as you were battling patriarchal standards by not conforming to stereotypical "female" qualities. But deep inside, you knew cooking should be a survival skill.

Well, maybe Jimin was right and you would indeed die at the ripe age of twenty-nine. On the bright side, at least you wouldn't have to pay off your student loans and your monthly rent.

In relation, not knowing how to cook meant impractical visits to the restaurant, and that was how you ended up at Midday Miso for dinner after your shift.

It was only a little over seven pm when you entered the restaurant, the ahjumma quickly greeting you and preparing your usual, a sign of familiarity that implied your countless visits ever since moving in at your current apartment building.

Regular visits meant usual sitting spot, and in your case, it was the high stools that faced the glass walls of the restaurant's facade where you could see the busy street making that little area of the town alive.

As minutes overlapped with one another, your food was served and you were hit with the waft of the restaurant's delightful signature beef ramen and bibimbap that the ahjumma made sure to add extra beef on.

Eating with a happy heart made you feel like nothing in the world mattered but you and the food before you, so, you didn't pay attention to the person who was coming to your direction and eventually sat beside you, but what caught you off guard was when said person suddenly said,

"Hi."

When you turned to the side to see who it was, your eyes widened as you said in both recognition and surprise, "Unit 446?"

"That's me." He, Unit 446—in the flesh—said with a low chuckle, twisting himself so that he was sat appropriately on the high stool. Still, his body leaned towards you when he continued to say, "Fancy seeing you here."

You grinned, flattered at the casualness of his approach.

"Same to you. I wonder who told you about this local gem."

He pursed his lips. "A nice neighbor across my place... whom I still don't know the name of."

"Oh, shoot!" You'd face-palm right now if he wasn't looking, but truthfully, you didn't even think about that! You've just been referring to him as the Staircase Guy slash Neighbor 446 in your head and when you told Jimin about him. You laughed at the thought. "That neighbor of yours is __."

Neighbor 446 nodded and extended his hand to you

"I'm Jungkook."

It was a little silly but you shook hands, anyway, and knowing it was, indeed, silly, you both laughed together at your joint connection.

Jungkook. Huh. Not exactly a common Korean name, but it wasn't rare either. The name does ring a bell though, felt like you've heard it somewhere before.

You brushed off the familiarity as inconsequential.

Unlike the completely casual attire he adorned the first time that you met him, he was now in some sleek slacks and a white polo which sleeves were ridden up half high, which exposed the vines of ink on his right arm once again. There's a coat that hung around the back of his chair, and he had forgone the glasses this time around, which was a bit of a shame on the part of your brain that might have a silly crush on him.

Jungkook's clothes seemed to mirror your own business casual ensemble, and that made you think about what he possibly did for a living. Maybe he worked a corporate job just like you, and the prospect might have made you down a little—only because as far as you were concerned, corporate people weren't the most pleasant people you could encounter—but it was not something you dwelled on too much because you couldn't care less. If Jungkook was corporate, he sure didn't seem to be one the way he was.

Besides, you wouldn't be the one to bring up the depressing and aggravating conversation about gross grown-up things like... jobs... Eurgh. You both could just talk about the weather or how insane the ahjumma's ramen tasted for eternity.

"Well, hello, Jungkook." You greeted him. All warm and soft, testing the syllables of his name on your tongue. Rolled off well enough. He had a nice name that sure fit his face for some reason.

"Hi, __." He mirrored the soft smile on your lips, and just as he said it, the ahjumma was heading towards your direction to give him his order.

In that usual way grandmas reacted, the ahjumma gasped audibly—and dramatically, might you add—upon seeing Jungkook, but what she said next made you want to dig a hole under your seat.

"__-dear! Is this young man your boyfriend?"

Good thing you weren't consuming anything as of that moment, because it would've entered the wrong track.

"Ahjumma!" You laughed, totally not authentic at all because your face didn't match it, looking at Jungkook who just sent a shy smile her way.

Ahjumma must have seen you both talking to each other and had completely jumped to a conclusion. An insane one at that! 

Shaking your head, you clarified, "This is Jungkook. A friend. He's new in town and checking out all the stuff around here. I recommended him this place."

You saw Jungkook nodding along with your words while he helped her set his table.

The ahjumma just shook her head. "I apologize, then," She looked at Jungkook and as if gossiping with him, whispered in a not very subtle way, "I keep on telling this girl to date already! Such young beauty shouldn't be wasted, you know."

A tsk-ing sound made its way through her mouth, and as much as you were starting to feel embarrassed that she was telling on you on Jungkook—who was literally a stranger to you a day ago and whom you may have a teeny tiny bit of crush on—you knew ahjumma did not have any malicious intent and just chose to laugh the whole thing off.

You heard Jungkook do the same.

This was ridiculous.

"Ahjumma, I told you, you're gonna be the first one to know when I date. For now I'm just a part-time accountant and a full-time promoter of Midday Miso." You pout at her, trying to dodge the topic of romance altogether.

Not in front of Jungkook.

"Ayee," She gave you a side-eye. "Fine. I'll bring over some extra beef."

You mouthed an enthusiastic "yes!" and raised your fist in the air with excitement, and Jungkook looked at the interaction with a smile on his face.

As the ahjumma walked away, you looked over at him.

"I'm glad you came by—" You identified his order to be the same one you used to be obsessed with the first few months you came to the restaurant. "—and ordered their best seller. You sure know how to be a tourist."

"Looked good on the menu. The ahjumma also seems to be nice. Seems like she's a close friend, huh?" Jungkook said.

"Totally."

And it was the truth. There was just something about ahjumma that made you feel reminiscent about the grandmother you've never had. Ever since you moved in and became a regular at this place, it felt like she's taken care of you and your relationship had been special since.

"This is really good." Jungkook commented after having his second bite, and you nodded in agreement. "She was serious about the beef thing?"

You chuckled at the mention. "Yeah, she always gives me extra."

"You just always get free stuff around these areas?" Jungkook joked which earned a hearty laugh from you. You remembered telling him about the free brownie on Sundays at Brown Coffee, a little bit surprised he recalled that.

"Now that you said that, I actually do." You proudly shared. You've been in this town for so long that the various faces just went from familiar to friends.

Jungkook nodded, his face showing amusement.

"I have to learn your ways, then."

"The secret to that is be incompetent at cooking. It means it's either take-out or eat out. Business owners around here have no choice but to see me every three days because I can't cook my own meal."

You could see Jungkook's amusement growing every second, and to add faux insult to injury, he joked, "Oh, bummer."

You decided to ride along with that.

"You mean you're a good cook? That's the real bummer! And here I thought we were bonding." You said, purposefully trying to sound scandalous at his implication of being a good cook.

He shook his head instantly, chuckling. "Okay, nah. I'm not that good. Just decent. But I'll have you know I can make a mean tangsuyuk. Any other complicated stuff is out the window, so there, we are bonding."

"I appreciate that you're under the assumption that I know where to begin with the non-complicated stuff. You're already putting way too much faith in me."

"I seriously doubt that." Jungkook laughed once again.

"You know what my friend tells me? That I'd die at twenty-nine because I don't know how to cook."

Jungkook almost keeled over hearing you say the words, and as much as you were amused at his own amusement, you decided to further add on the joke because you were enjoying this way too much.

"Wow. I wouldn't doubt you'd be an accessory to my murder the way you're laughing way too hard at my impending death. That's next year, you know."

Jungkook reached over for the glass of water and drank it. While he did so, the ahjumma had come over to give you the beef she promised. You did not forgot to thank her as soon as she went away. 

You did hope Jungkook didn't notice the malicious wink she sent your way.

"Fuck, sorry." Jungkook's laughter had gone down this time, but his eyes still showed a hint of mirth when he asked, "You're twenty-eight, then?"

You nodded. "Yep." Unfortunately, you thought.

"Oh, that's actually surprising."

A gasp left your mouth. Jungkook was quick to correct himself.

"I meant it's surprising because I thought you were way younger."

Oh.

"Don't flatter me. I won't share my extra beef with you."

"I thought—" He shrugged. "—Early twenties."

"I'm guessing you are in your early twenties." You joked back.

"Okay, now, don't flatter me. I know how old I look." Jungkook said with a dismissive tone, but nevertheless light-hearted. Just like how this whole thing was going.

God, you were so in awe of how good he was at talking to you that he was practically bringing out the extrovert in you you only ever show to exclusive people like Jimin.

"So, you're like, fifty, then?"

Incredulous, Jungkook burst into laughter. "Wow."

"Sorry, just that you sounded like you were five years from retirement! Anyway, you look like we're the same age?"

He shook his head. "Three years older. Turning thirty-one later this year."

Jaw dropped. Not physically, but mentally.

"Oh wow, you're basically—" a fucking DILF! What the hell!

Thankfully you managed to cut yourself off before Jungkook could think you were way off your rocks and embarrass yourself in front of him for eternity. You could just hear Jimin from miles away telling you off about calling thirty-year-old men DILFs even though you didn't know if they had a child.

What do you mean this guy was thirty and why did that just make him even hotter in your head... He's got to stop this madness before you do something completely incomprehensible.

"—A senior." Was the lame thing you came up with to finish your sentence.

"Ouch." Jungkook said, but his word was completely opposite to the expression he was wearing on his face the way he just couldn't suppress the grin that had been visible on his mouth since you started talking.

You brought your hands up.

"Totally didn't mean that in a negative way."

Which was the entire truth. So far, the things you knew about him was that he had tattoos, a nice body, a nice personality, good ass freaking conversationalist, and that he was thirty! Thirty! As in, the peak of male hotness. The evil psychological concept of most men only getting hotter as they age.

"I'm sure, I'm sure," Jungkok nodded. "By the way, are you heading out after this?"

"Oh, yeah. Don't have anywhere else to go. I have a nine A.M tomorrow so..." you shrugged, and he nodded in understanding.

"You work as an accountant, right, from what you told the ahjumma?" Jungkook asked you curiously.

"Yeah... it's a very tedious job." You grimaced a little bit. "What about you?"

He tilted his head a bit, picking up a dumpling on his plate. "I'm a software engineer."

"Oh, that's cool."

You nodded to yourself while you processed what he said.

Works in fucking tech; another thing you just learned about him. 

You weren't actively seeking out guys in tech, but why did they seem to come to you voluntarily? God forbid you saw someone who wasn't in there! Was every man working in tech now? Was Jimin really only being truthful when he said they were exactly your type?

"Have you made any software or is that, like, a wrong assumption about you guys?"

Jungkook merely chuckled at your retort.

"Not entirely, no. I've designed a few software in college—I'm still doing it. I'm just currently doing more business stuff now." He gave you a sheepish smile. "You?"

"Well, it's just... you know—I actually work at a tech company. I'm a junior accountant. And, uh, nothing interesting, really. You get to do cool math like programming, and I get to do boring math like calculating money I don't have. It's always a great day at work." You said, couldn't help the laugh that skipped your mouth at your own sarcasm.

Nothing like joking about hating your job to someone who you just met yesterday.

"Programming and coding are not all that, either. It's tedious and... it's just a really boring job. But... it all pays the bills."

You chuckled.

"Yeah. Totally."

Without minding it, you raised the small glass of soju, initiating a toast, one that Jungkook understood immediately and met you in the middle of it.

The night was still you when you walked out of Midday Miso, but unlike any other nights, it was with Jungkook this time walking beside you.

"So you just—what—hid him for three months?"

"Well, yes! I wasn't about to get a notice for that! And besides, he was really cute. But he's in good hands now, his owner still sends me pictures of him. He's very grown and big."

"That's insane."

You peered at Jungkook who watched you in awe as you told him about the story of Alfredo, the cat whom you rescued on your way home from work a year ago. The landlady obviously had her fair share of rules and regulations in her building, and keeping pets was an absolute no, which was a shame. Definitely wasn't a shame when you first just moved in the complex, but things got lonely sometimes when you were living alone and company was almost a luxury.

Anyway, as told, you managed to keep Alfredo out of the landlady's sight until you found a highly qualified parent on some online forum who you still kept in contact with to this day.

But as you watched Jungkook, you noticed the way his expression fell into something concerning. He looked worried, which made you feel the same way as a result.

"What are you thinking?" You asked him curiously.

"Oh, nah, I was just... thinking. See, I actually have a dog."

"Oh!" You looked at him wide-eyed.

He has a dog; another thing about Jungkook that would qualify him on the regular rounds of hot boy of the month on Twitter dot com. 

"Yeah."

"You didn't read the terms and conditions of the building?" Your eyebrows formed a concerned expression.

Jungkook chuckled and shook his head. "I did. I just—suddenly thought about him, is all. He's being taken care of some place. But, you know, I missed him, and I was thinking about getting him here and showing him around my new place and all that."

"Oh... that's a bummer, then. The landlady's strict, even with the small dogs, can you imagine? Is he small, by the way, your dog?

"He's a Doberman, so definitely a big one."

"He must be really cute. What's his name?"

"Bam." He smiled at you, and you could totally see the pride showing on his face at the mention of his dog. And with a tone that you could only identify as someone who's suppressing his enthusiasm a little bit, he added, "You wanna see a picture of him?"

"Sure!"

Jungkook took out his phone from his pocket and showed you images of a big, chocolate brown dog. Bam definitely wasn't like the other regular Dobermans you'd see around. His ears weren't cropped, and his tail wasn't docked either. You didn't know if the lack of surgery was intentional from his side, but you'd like to think he kept it that way because he knew it hurt the dog greatly. From how you've been knowing him, you were certain he just didn't want to put his dog under unnecessary pain, which was honestly heartwarming to think about.

Jungkook was becoming way too good to be true in you head little by little.

"Awe, he's adorable!" You cooed, especially when he swiped through the picture of his pet, Bam, as a pup in what seemed to be Jungkook's arms based on the familiar tattoos that peeked from the exposed arm as seen on the picture. The tattoos also seemed to be new at that time as well, considering that the skin was still yet to be fully covered like now.

"I'm flattered you think that."

"Where is he, by the way? If you don't mind me asking."

"He's at a... friend's place in New York. He's not very good at flying so I didn't bring him with me here, and I thought, I'll only be here for three months, anyway, so." Jungkook shrugged.

Three months. Well. He did say he was only staying here temporarily.

You nodded. "For business, right?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"You grew up there?" You kicked the stone that was caught at the tip of your shoe, putting your fists in the deeper part of your coat's pockets. Summer may be hot during daytime, but it sure as hell was cold on nights like these.

"Nah, I'm from Busan. Flew to California for college and have been there since. Until now, that is."

Jimin was also from Busan, you thought. Though he said they only lived there for a few years until his parents moved to Seoul, but he made sure to visit his hometown every now and then. Most of the time, he made you come with him which you never had complaints about. You lived in the city all your life so going there, especially in the more urbanized area where you and Jimin stayed. Felt like fresh air—which Busan had, quite literally.

"My best friend's from Busan too."

"Really? What about you?"

You chuckled before answering, "I, unfortunately, did not come from any interesting place. Born and raised in Seoul, through and through. Though my mom told me she lived in Daegu for many years prior to having me."

"Seoul is an interesting place, though."

"Eh. It's okay." You shrugged, and your nonchalance made you both laugh.

The walk to your apartment building from Midday Miso was not that far. Still, it was five blocks away and while you and Jungkook were currently sharing conversation together and seemingly walking the same path, you weren't sure if you were both walking together there.

As if he read your mind, he suddenly spoke after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

"You mind if we walk together to the building?"

You decided to joke to get the jittery feeling out of your system.

"Scared of the dark, Jungkook?"

"Sure... my five-eleven self is."

You squinted your eyes at him. He did not just go there!

"Is that a slight against my height because I'm five-seven, mind you."

Jungkook stopped in his tracks which made you do the same, and you watched as he put his hand on his waist while the other reach up to his face to place a finger over his chin, seemingly assessing you up and down. You looked at him incredulously.

"You're bumping your height to two inches." He seriously said.

You gasped audibly.

"Oh, shut up,"

You rolled your eyes and turned your back at him, continuing your walk as you heard him behind you bursting in laughter at your reaction.

"I'm kidding!"

You first met Jimin at a college party. He was five years older than you, supposedly out of college by the time you attended, but he always had a problem with rebellion–what with his ragged relationship with his parents, he would intentionally flunk his courses as a message to them that he'd always be a black sheep and a proud one at that, hoping it would be enough to convey that they could not force him to be the heir of their company. (Obviously, it had taken him nowhere, given that he was now currently attending a training program to work at said company).

But maybe it was a blessing in disguise that he was set back to five years for graduation. Because you got to know him, and he got to know you.

On the outside, you might look like the total opposite of each other–because Jimin was the definition of extroversion who wasn't afraid to put himself out there–while you, admittedly, were more reserved and usually shied away from any public attention.

As much as you were welcoming to a lot of people, you didn't have a lot of close friends growing up–at least not the kind of friends you'd see on TV shows–but when Jimin came to your life, you clicked so instantly you could not even figure out where you two exactly began.

The instant way you two clicked, you realized, was like your relationship with Jungkook nowadays.

Ever since that night at Midday Miso, you've been seeing a lot of each other. Granted that it was only in the same place, same time. You'd usually arrive past seven and he, a few minutes later. Jungkook, cladded in his slacks and long-sleeved polo, was becoming a usual sight after a shift, and your business casual clothes was turning as one for him as well.

Your usual seating spot became his as nights passed, and ahjumma, thank God, no longer asked you if he was your boyfriend. You were glad that she was slowly getting acquainted with him though, greeting him with a friendlier smile and tone reserved only for customers like you when he entered the restaurant, and Jungkook seemed to welcome the newfound friendship wholeheartedly.

On the consecutive nights you'd spent with him, it was almost as if you lived quite the same life. Though, you didn't know when he went to work. In fact, you didn't see him during the mornings even though in theory, it could be easy, granted that you both lived across each other. But strangely enough, you'd never caught him retiring to his flat to go to the bus station. You assumed he started earlier than you or way later.

You never asked, it never came up either.

Still, there was some sort of tranquility in the thought that you could spend some time with someone after your shift and just talk about whatever–and whatever meant a lot of things. Random at best. You once told him about the first raccoon you met in your life, and he told you all about the lioness he got to watch when he went to a South Saharan trip a few years ago.

Sometimes, the conversation went around what happened in the office that day. Jungkook noticed the little blot of ink on the cuff of your baby blue long sleeves, and you told him about the jammed printer in the accounting department. He'd told you later on about how he almost fucked up a report, said he was nervous because he was taking on a new role in the office.

Those moments were shared in long walks from Midday Miso to your apartment building, because naturally, you both established a small tradition of walking home together after a night of eating your hearts out at ahjumma's restaurant.

It was a rather sweet gesture, if you were honest to yourself. But you chose not to linger too much on the romantic thoughts that floated in your head, especially when you'd notice the way he made sure to walk on the outer side of the sidewalk, and when your fingers got too close the tips almost touched.

Because Jungkook, for how objectively good looking he was, was more than just his pretty face and physique.

He was kind and funny and genuine unlike any other straight men you've met in your life. Maybe the bar was low, but for all the times you've gotten to talk to him, he never showed any signs of ego most men would by the second hour of your meeting.

In the dating scene as an adult, a lot of men would come up to a date talking about how high they were placed at their company's hierarchy and how much they made in a month, and when they hear about yours, they'd always have a backhanded comment about how "you could only go up from there, right?" and those moments were always a bummer. Yawn-inducing, to be more accurate. Men and their predictability was boring and it was the reason why you'd declare to Jimin almost every time you got home from a date that you were retired from looking for them because most men just plainly fucking sucked.

But with Jungkook... was it different.

You found he didn't talk a lot, and one time you asked him if you were doing it–the talking–way too much, but he just chuckled and told you that he didn't mind.

Later on, you learned that he was just more of a listener rather than a talker, and that was not only a pure assumption of yours because he did listen attentively, alright. As for all the random things you've told him about, you never expected him to recall a single thing, not until one time when you passed by a food truck.

"Hey, didn't you say you like sundae?" Jungkook asked, and when you followed where his eyes were, it was at the food truck parked just a few steps ahead from where you both were.

"I do... wow. It's been so long since I saw a food truck around here." You said, following his steps towards the vehicle.

They had tables to dine in, and even if you were still full from eating at Midday Miso that night, the sundae was just too gratifying to decline. Jungkook was the same with the tteokbokki on his small plate, telling you he missed eating at one of these things, as they didn't exactly have anything like this abroad.

After he paid for the food (and of course not without a long, silly, light-hearted argument about it), he came back with two sticks of Melona ice pops which you looked at with widened eyes, animated expression written all over your face especially when he thrusted the purple yam flavor to you.

"Oh my god, how do they have these?"

"I was surprised as well... this is the first time in a while I'm eating this again." Jungkook said and then gestured to the ice pop in your hand, "You like the purple yam, right?"

"Yeah!"

You were about to ask him how he knew, but then you briefly remembered that one time you had a passionate rant about people hating on purple yam ice cream and why they weren't right.

And as you looked at Jungkook, he seemed to remember it all too well.

Jungkook showed genuine interest in the things you'd tell him about. He'd visit the cafes and restaurants you recommended to him as much as he could, and because you've come to exchange numbers with him eventually after almost two weeks of casually hanging out, they sometimes came during lunch break.

1 message received from Jungkook (Unit 446)

That day, you only exchanged contacts the other night, so seeing him on your phone so quickly like that caught you by surprise. It was welcomed though.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:36pm]: I went to Cafe Heaven for lunch and loved their ice americano

As soon as you read the first message, another one came.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:36pm]: This is Jungkook by the way :)

You laughed at his introduction. As if he didn't see you type his name on your phone last night��like he didn't jokingly complain about you putting the (Unit 446) in there but giving in eventually and also adding (Unit 336) to yours in his own contacts.

You [12:38pm]: Hi Jungkook! You [12:38pm]: im glad u went!!! u should also try their fettuccine alfredo

Seconds later, he sent a picture of the dish you just mentioned which put a smile on your face.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:39pm]: i'll get my refund from you if this doesnt taste good

You [12:40pm]: 1 week of friendship and ur already ripping me off 🤐

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:40pm]: 😁 Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:40pm]: first bite Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:41pm]: second bite

What was he on, you didn't know. But you were glad that he was slowly coming around, his jokes getting more... how would you say it... less polite? He just stopped apologizing after he said them! He usually would in the first few days, but now in your newfound closeness, it was like you were out of that stage where you tiptoed around each other still, feeling the other one out, trying to figure them out, all that stuff.

Nowadays, it was just more natural. Smooth-sailing. Paradoxical, almost, because of how the relationship felt more defined as well as loose.

You found you liked it that way. 

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:42pm]: I like it 👍🏻

And to your surprise, he sent you a picture of him, indeed, holding a thumbs up.

You'd like to think you were an expert on going along with the tide because even though you would be classified as introvert by most, you did pretty well in forming relationships with people–granted, most of them were fleeting, at best, hence the lack of bigger circles in most of your life–but you were great with making friends, regardless. 

And maybe it was how you ended up with this whole thing with Jungkook. Because you were friendly and open, although you wouldn't dare to take all credits because as you mentioned before, he was a great conversationalist.

He didn't talk much as you said, but he didn't ever make you feel like you were talking way too much because he made sure that you knew he was listening, and when he talked, it was always engaging; conversations with him transitioned to different subjects in perfect seugue you would never noticed how you jumped from Melona ice pops to the existential dread you fought every morning before going to work.   

When it came to humor, Jungkook's was different from Jimin's, of course, and your dynamic with your best friend could never be replicated with somebody else but Jungkook was close to truly becoming your friend, and for that, it was getting easier to ignore his handsome face.

You may have had an embarrassing moment of panicking mentally at seeing such a man in the first meeting, but nowadays, you could hold a conversation with him without thinking how hot he was.

Dare you say, you were starting to think more platonically about him rather than romantically. As you said, you were an expert on going along with the tide.

Or maybe that was too soon a declaration, because there were moments, like now, when you were certain juvenile flirting insisted on happening between you, steering you clear from completely feeling wholly platonic about Jungkook.

"I certainly have a bigger hand than you."

As if you didn't know that, Jungkook brought his hand up to show you it. Confused but not totally minding the whole thing, you proceeded to extend your own hand towards his, pressing them both together. Predictably, his hand could have engulfed the entirety of your own.

Jungkook laughed at the sight, and you didn't know exactly who broke the physical contact first but you were glad it was over as soon as it started.

But you couldn't have forgotten the electric zap along your spine when your hand got so close like that to his. Couldn't have ignored the hot feeling in your cheeks when you were made aware of what you just did.

Wow.

Were you guys flirting? Was he flirting? It was flirting, right? Juvenile, at best, because this was what kids did in high school! And Jungkook's hand was so...

You never imagined what it felt like–never even crossed your mind until now. Expectations about how his hand felt never formed in your head because you sure as hell never thought about that kind of thing happening in the first place, but Jungkook's hand was the right balance of soft and hard. Calloused in a way most men's hands naturally were, and soft like enough comfort when held and touched.

It wasn't clammy, thank god, but you also wouldn't have thought he had clammy hands, solely because he just looked like he didn't. But god, was it big.

And my goodness, did it make you feel things.

You drank your water fast and cleared your throat, subtly, so that he didn't think too much of it.

"O-okay, but that's just genetics. Doesn't mean you could throw stronger punches."

You said in retaliation to one of your useless debates which now covered the coin-operated boxing arcade machine across the bus station nearby.

Jungkook leaned back against the monobloc chair that was definitely way too flimsy for him.

You were currently hanging out at the dining area of the food truck you came across a few days ago, forgoing Midday Miso for the night. Lately, Jungkook and you have been exploring a few more places other than there. You've tried other restaurants nearby, but ultimately, Midday Miso was still the top favorite and the food truck was becoming a staple in lieu of its convenience and just the overall vibe of eating outside and feeling the breeze of summer night air.

"You got me curious about the boxing machine." Jungkook said, crossing his arms.

"I held the highest score there for like a week, you know? Only did it though to impress the kids who liked to watch."

At that, Jungkook's face lit up in interest.

"We should do that sometime."

"Oh... I see, I see. You wanna impress the kids, too?" You playfully accused, squinting your eyes at him.

He chuckled and waved you off.

"It can be a challenge." Jungkook shrugged and looked at you with a hint of mirth in his eyes.

You let out a puff of breath, amused at his obvious antics.

"What's the catch?"

"Well... free boba delivered to your door for a week if you get the higher score. How's that sound?" He looked at you expectantly.

You chuckled before saying, "I'm gonna rip you off so bad, Jungkook."

"Only if you win, though." He said with a mischievous smirk. 

"Oh, wow. When, you mean. When I win. So what's in it for you?" You leaned your elbow on the table and studied his face.

He looked at you for a while, then, the smirk from earlier was wiped off and exchanged with a much gentler smile.

"Home-cooked dinner at my place next week Friday."

Your eyebrows met.

"You want me to cook you something? Jungkook, do you have a death wish? I may either give you unintentional food poisoning or burn your house down, there's no in between."

"No," Jungkook laughed at your insane conclusion. "Sorry, I should've specified. I mean if you lose, I'll be cooking us a meal at my place."

"Oh."

You were left staring at him, a bit dumbfounded.

He just said he wanted to cook you guys a meal. At his place.

He was inviting you to his place. His personal space.

"It won't be better than Midday Miso but I think I can keep up." Jungkook added with a sheepish smile and scratched the back of his head in that seemingly boyish manner.

"Sure..." you responded, a bit delayed, much to your effort of not showing your big surprise at his offer. Before he noticed the way you were not believing what you heard, you chose to quip in a (hopefully) cheeky, "That is if you win, though."

Jungkook only hummed and then nodded.

"If I win."

He said, smiling at you.

This was dangerous.

The whole thing was teetering to something that was not very platonic, and just as you were starting to think this whole thing was!

Jimin always told you that you were bad at flirting, but in your defense, how were you supposed to know, exactly, if someone was flirting with you? A lot of people were friendly like that! Jungkook was maybe like that? Had you shown interest and he noticed so now he was playing into it? But that would be uncharacteristic of him. You didn't think he'd be the type to do something cruel like that...

But the tide was always rising and falling, they said, and the good thing was; you knew how to go along with the current.

So you did what you do best.

"Would you like to donate to the poor?"

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but there's a chance this card's gonna decline because I am the poor."

The cashier looked you in the eye with an even more impassive look than the one she had before you got your turn on the counter.

"Could've just said no." She said, punching your order away and you had to shamefully swipe your card and leave to go over where Jimin was.

"The cashier just snubbed me for being poor." You complained to Jimin, moving your coat to the next seat and settling in in yours.

Jimin took a sip from his latte and looked at you dead in the eye and said, "I'll call the manager if you want."

"Fuck off." You retaliated immediately. Jimin snorted at your way too predictable response.

See, this has happened way too many times more than what your fingers could count. You could not even pinpoint the exact time when Jimin started to joke about going full-on Karen-mode when you complained about a single little thing at the places you went to.

Anyway, you were currently on a lunch break when Jimin texted to see if you were free. What better way to spend your lunch than with your best friend? The company's canteen food was getting tired and they hiked up their prices. Your office's kitchen also ran out of Solhee's – your coworker – biscuits and so you thought you had to make do of Jimin's money for that day. You told him your motives yourself and as a petty retort, he told you to pay for your own pasta — at a café that was way too expensive for its own good.

You stole a bite off his churros, and predictably, he rolled his eyes at you.

"Why'd you want to see me, by the way? What's up? You don't have training?" you glanced at your wristwatch, reading 12:40pm.

Soon, you were casually taking over his plate of churros. For how ridiculously priced it was, it sure tasted good as hell.

"I got the day off." Jimin shrugged.

You eyed him suspiciously almost immediately.

"Did you really...?"

It was a few seconds before Jimin gave in and took back his plate.

"Okay, no, I ditched the training today but for the record it's for a very important reason."

You put your hand over your chest and contorted your face in an awed, touched expression.

"The important reason being... meeting me?"

"Ew, no," Was Jimin's quick, disgusted, response – which earned a laugh from you as usual.

From your peripheral vision, you saw the waiter heading towards your direction and so you waited for him to come over and serve you your pasta and frappe. After thanking him, you huddled closer to your best friend and asked, "Okay, what is it then?"

Jimi pursed his lips, making your eyebrows meet.

"It's kinda... bummer news."

"You're pregnant?"

"No, you'd be way too happy and I can't be a single dad," He shook his head as if not even wanting to imagine that.

"Namjoon looks like he's gonna take care of it with you." You sing-sang, sipping on your coffee and winking at him indiscreetly – emphasis on indiscreetly because you never knew how to wink properly.

What you did not expect, was the look on Jimin's face when you mentioned Namjoon.

"Well..." He trailed off, and you waited for it curiously; anticipating his impending answer in return because your conversation was always quick-witted like that. But right now, Jimin's expression was devoid of any jokes. 

Not something you expected when you just mentioned his boyfriend.

"I— did something happen?" You quickly dropped the teasing tone and exchanged it with a concerned one, eyes looking at him with worry.

Jimin closed his eyes for a while and let out a deep breath. "See, that's the bummer news."

"Do you want to tell me? Or we can just—"

He cut you off before you could even finish your sentence. But he did it with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes – and this was Jimin. His eyes did not not reach his eyes when he smiled!

"He's going to Italy."

"Oh."

When the pause prolonged for over a minute, with you looking at him mouth agape, Jimin let out a heavy sigh once again and shook his head.

"I know. It's work... and I always understood that. He travels a lot and we're both okay with it. But it was usually just around the country, not another continent. I mean, what did he mean Italy? And that's not even the worst part. He knew a month ago he was going but he only told me two days ago and he's leaving Thursday," Jimin looked at you to take a pause, seemingly trying to look for a reaction.

You thought, that's tomorrow.

As if he read your mind, he nodded, sounding almost defeated.

"I know."

"Oh, Jimin..." You said, not exactly knowing what to say.

Jimin and Namjoon had been together for over a year. At least, officially, because they spent the last three years just casually hooking up on and off. You liked them together and had been more than glad when they finally put a label to it – exactly why you knew Namjoon enough to not badmouth him when you usually would men Jimin usually dated. You knew perfectly well that Namjoon genuinely cared about your best friend and he loved him. So if Jimin was at a loss for this obvious mistake on his boyfriend's part, even more so you were.

"He's been blowing up my phone ever since." Jimin added, glancing at his phone on the table. "Intentionally didn't charge my phone today so I don't receive his calls and texts."

That prompted you to remember the message you received from Namjoon last night.

"Oh, that's why he texted me yesterday. He asked about you, and I told you through text but you didn't answer." Things were starting to make sense now, and as you observed Jimin's face, they were getting clearer. "You never talked since?"

Jimin pursed his lips. He took his coffee back to his mouth and sipped while looking away. "Nope."

"Jimin." You tilted your head.

He looked at you again, and you knew exactly that he was thinking the same thing as you: It was within his right to feel off about what Namjoon did, but regardless; Jimin was being a little petty, and he needed to communicate with his boyfriend instead of giving him the cold shoulder.

There was a pout that formed on Jimin's lips right after.

"I know. I just..."

"He could've told you sooner?" He nodded at your words. You mirrored that. "He should have. Italy is not Busan – it's not just a train ride away."

Jimin sighed, looking exasperated now. "I told him that exactly. I'm not even mad he's going to Italy, I just think I deserve to know right after he was told about it."

You nodded. "You should really talk. It sounds like he wants to apologize, anyway, given that he's now trying to talk to me to get through you."

"Sorry you got caught up in this. I'm gonna talk to him about it."

"Eh, it's fine. Joon and I are also friends, you know?" You shrugged, genuinely not minding Namjoon coming to you. 

You liked Namjoon and thought that he was the perfect match for Jimin. They were cute together and just seemed to... take the best out of each other. You'd go to any lengths to keep them together, as long as Jimin wanted Namjoon and as his boyfriend. You've seen Jimin go from relationships to relationships, some just fleeting and simple dalliances, and most destructive and were just... not good for him. You've never seen your best friend truly happy and committed in a romantic relationship other than with Namjoon, and as someone who cared about him, you'd do a lot of things to make him happy.

"Here's another thing, his flight is tomorrow at 11:30pm in the evening. Mom's birthday dinner is at 10." Jimin usually had his composure everytime, and it was very rarely you'd see him show any worry because he liked everybody to think he was in control of every situation. You smiled. Classic Jimin. He'd only ever show his true nature to you though, and that was exactly why he looked at you with worried eyes and continued to say, "I really wanna be there to send him off."

The call time for his mother's party was at 10 and naturally people would start swarming in way past that time. If Jimin were to sneak out way too early, you knew his mother was not going to be happy about it and his father would give him an even bigger shit for it. Sure, he could cancel, but what would he say? That their supposed cishet son is sending off his boyfriend at the airport for the night? He couldn't reason work either because he didn't exactly have one.

After having his wrongful DUI accusation last spring– which was actually already settled, on the grounds that it was definitely not DUI and the owner of the other car just overreacted to a fender bender, the media was adamant on tactically using that to taint his family's image and it unfortunately succeeded – hence, why Jimin had been laying low these past few months; going to training programs, obeying his parents more than usual, doing what they wanted...

You sighed. Your best friend deserved so much better.

"Don't worry, I'll find a way to get us to leave early." You told him after awhile.

Jimin arched his brow, intrigued.

Waving him off, you said, "I can fake something."

As if hearing some magic words, Jimin suddenly perked up.

"No way you're using the diarrhea card?"

Giving him a dirty look, you shook your head. "Nah, not during a dinner party. It's gotta be something new and less... gross."

"Oh, oh!" Jimin put a finger over his lip. "What about a sprained ankle? Can you pull that off?"

You deadpanned. "Okay, you ought to pay me more if you want me to do that."

"I can, but I won't. Stop ripping me off, I'm your best friend."

"Jimin, I'll save you from your family. I'm great at this." You said jokingly, but you hoped that he knew you weren't just jesting and were serious about it.

With the appreciation masking your best friend's face, though, you knew he got the message right away, but as you looked at him longer, you realize that he was about to say something and you quickly pulled back, shaking your head.

Jimin quickly reacted. "No! You know what, I'm gonna say it—"

"Don't say it." You quickly cut him off, giggling while you shake your cup of coffee.

"You can't keep me from saying I lo—"

"Jimin, I will tell everybody in this place you watch dubbed anime, I'm serious."

He gasped, quite dramatically.

"You did not just go there!" Then, he lowered his voice a bit, arching his brow at you, vindicative when he said, "You wore skinny jeans a month ago."

"How dare you, you wore a fuckass poncho last week. I saw on your IG story."

"That was from Namjoon and he also gave you one, FYI."

You grimaced. "Tell him I love him but I'm not wearing a poncho, Jimin."

"I was gonna tell you I love you and that you're the best person ever but now I have to rethink all of that." He rolled his eyes, and when the banter ended with you having the last words, you laughed at his face.

"God, you're just never beating me at this."

"Please, we both know you write your mediocre insults on your diary every night trying to one-up me, __. But let's talk about something else."

"I'm not even gonna acknowledge the diary thing but, sure, shoot." You said, starting to eat your pasta.

Jimin looked at your food full of judgement and grimaced. "Is that shrimp? Your doctor is growing grey pubes as we speak," He commented, and you knew he was referring to your shrimp allergy so you shushed him.

"This is vegan shrimp. It's tofu."

He just shook his head, disagreement written on his face. But he let it pass, anyway.

"Anyway, how's Mr. 446?"

The pasta suddenly entered the wrong track.

"Girl," Jimin was quick to offer you the glass of water on his side and you were just as fast to drink it. "You okay?"

"I'm sure there are existing cases of people dying because food got on the wrong track while they're eating, but yeah, sure, I'm okay." When you finished the water, you looked at Jimin who was just doing the same thing.

Crossing his arms, he eyed you expectantly. "Well?"

"I mean... what do you want me to say?" you told him, and you could've sworn you did not want to show anything on your face but you were certain there was a huge smile on it and for some reason, you couldn't help it.

Jimin's jaw dropped, expressions of disbelief and amusement when he asked you curiously, "What do you mean by that?"

"Okay, look, Jimin—" You scratched the back of your head, feeling a little sheepish to tell him all about Jungkook. "He told me we'd get dinner at his place this Friday if he wins this... thing."

His mouth was agape by then and you couldn't help but laugh.

"You... slut."

You would absolutely be rolling off the floor if you weren't at a public place the moment he mouthed the word, but still, you couldn't help but retort back.

"Shut up, you can't be the only one whoring around in this friendship." Jimin snorted at that and you both had to stifle your laughter when you noticed a woman from across the room eyeing you both.

This was one of the reasons why Jimin and you didn't belong in public places other than bars or clubs – because you were way too rowdy together for civilization.

"So you're saying you're whoring around?" He eyed you suspiciously.

"Wrong information. It's actually kind of platonic."

Jimin quickly waved you off. "Babe, if a guy invites you to his place, nothing is ever platonic about it. What do you think you'll do together there? Stare at each other for two hours straight?"

God, you hated and loved that he enables your delusions.

"Okay, you're being insane about this. It's just dinner," Trying to fight off the not-so-very-platonic things that suddenly played in your head after hearing his previous remark. To show that you didn't care, you added for good measure, "—And anyway, we had some sort of deal about it so it's not definite."

Your best friend just shrugged. "I'm all for it. But you're sure he isn't a serial killer, right?"

"Jimin, god, no," you chuckled at that. "I mean, I don't really know for sure, but we're friends now and as far as I know, he's never shown signs of psychopathy."

Jimin and you hadn't hung out in a while, so you haven't really told him all about Jungkook yet and the things you got to know about him. He didn't even know his name. As far as he was concerned, Jungkook was still Mr. 446, and you were fine keeping it that way. He had a lot on his plate right now, anyway.

"Just being cautious." He sing-sang, putting both his hands in the air.

You shook your head.

"Anyway, we also need to talk about what we're gonna wear tomorrow," Jimin suddenly said. "You got the Pinterest board I sent you, right? For the inspo."

Grinning, you grabbed your iPad from your bag and got to the link immediately. Your phone died on the way to the café. Good thing you had another device and brought it with you.

"I also added a few things in here. Gold and black's the theme, right?" You clarified, scrolling through the board you and Jimin both contributed to. Your best friend took it upon himself to transfer seats so he could be beside you and look at your screen at the same time.

"You're gonna look so good in Schiaparelli, babe," Jimin said while checking out the pictures you added.

"It's just an inspo, I don't actually need to wear a Schiaparelli." You chuckled.

"Who do you think your best friend is?"

You both laughed at that but it stopped when a notification popped up on your computer. Recognizing the address as your work email, you were quick to hover over it. When you were about to open it to see the full message, your iPad suddenly died.

"Shoot." You looked at Jimin with a straight face. "I forgot to plug it in. Didn't notice the battery."

Jimin grimaced. "Didn't bring any power cable."

"We'll have to do with a phone. Mine died."

You were just about to ask him for his but then you remembered what he said about avoiding Namjoon, hence, his phone was of no use either. 

"We're gonna have to freestyle."

Last year, Mrs. Park's party was held at a theater hall – your first time at one, by the way.

Tonight, it was at their mansion.

You've only ever been to the Park's a total of one time, which was now. Stepping a foot inside here for the first time in your life, the house felt unreal. It was the epitome of money and wealth and everything regal in the world – like a palace of some sort. They had butlers and guards at the gates so maybe that wasn't an exaggeration, but damn, Jimin truly came from money.

Regardless of how shiny the whole building was in both literal and figurative senses though, there was an emptiness to it. It didn't look lived in – which was a fair assumption for a house this big. It definitely did not look like people liked staying here, and maybe that was not a stretch, because as soon as he turned 18, Jimin moved away and lived in his own place ever since. You asked him on your way here and he told you it was his first time this year to visit his own house.

The decoration was sick, though. Granted, they must have surely hired people to do it but at least they'd hired excellent ones. You wouldn't have expected anything less from Jimin's mom.

Jimin and you arrived at 10pm sharp, and thankfully, people were already starting to fill the place up. It was now past 15 minutes to 10pm since you arrived and there really was nothing different that went on from last year; you saw some familiar faces, politicians, and celebrities. Jimin introduced you to some people as his girlfriend, and you got to have quick chats with his model friends.

You knew it didn't actually matter if you thought about it carefully, but there was truly nothing compared to the feeling you get when you see someone in the flesh that you only see on TV all your life. You didn't feel lucky to see them in person, per se, you were just poured over the realization that these people were actually real and they weren't just some sort of simulation to keep the entertainment industry of your country afloat.

Although, you did meet Han Sol – an actress whose works you genuinely admired. Jimin just told you her husband was his second cousin.

It wasn't later that Jimin and you were invited to his family's table, where some of his cousins and immediate family were.

The greetings went pretty normal. Normal as in: Jimin's mom didn't say anything about your weight first thing first. Granted, she didn't try to hide the look of disappointment on her face when she saw you with his son. Probably reeling at the fact that you were still "dating" each other even after a year — she was probably under the impression that it wasn't serious between you two last year. His father, meanwhile, was... quiet. As usual. A man who obviously didn't really say much except ask Jimin about the training program and his siblings' jobs.

Mr. Park didn't really talk to you, just like last year. Like you were almost invisible to him – and you were glad that was the case. He probably didn't like to acknowledge your supposed relationship in the first place. Probably knew that you were working a middle-class job and didn't want to know any further. But at least, he wasn't saying anything. That was nice.

"Where's your cousin?" Asked Jimin's mom suddenly, looking at his son.

"He said he got caught up in traffic. Sent 20 minutes ago." Jimin shrugged. You would ask him about which cousin they were referring to but they had like millions of it at these events so you didn't bother.

Mrs. Park shook her head disapprovingly. "That kid. Always late to the family dinners. Did Junghyun ever teach—"

"Hey,"

Your attention was then focused to the man who just arrived. Black tie, tall... dashing. Jimin was a good-looking individual and his family, as evil as they may be as per his words, were blessed with good genes. If you were to look at the new man that arrived to the table very carefully, you'd say he almost looked familiar.

"Oh, Junghyun!"

Jimin glanced at you and discreetly mouthed, "Cousin."

"Aunt, happy birthday." He said after laughing at Jimin's mother coos. He looked across the table and continued, "Hi, uncle. Jaeyul, Sunghoon, Jimin." They all greeted him back and you could feel the hairs on your nape starting to stand up when his eyes landed on you once again. "And this is...?"

"Oh, that's Jimin's girlfriend, __." Jaeyul, Jimin's brother said.

"Hi." you greeted him, waving a bit.

"Oh?" Junghyun immediately looked at Jimin, eyes not hiding his shock. When you trained your eyes on Jimin, you felt his fake smile. "That's great, man. I didn't know you had a girlfriend. Hi, miss...?"

"It's __." you filled in.

"Nice to meet you, __." He said with a smile. The more you looked at him, the more you could almost pinpoint who he looked like – but that shouldn't really matter.

Junghyun looked over Jimin's parents once again, "Anyway, sorry I'm a bit late, got caught up in traffic."

Jimin cleared his throat.

"How about you, Junghyun? Got a girlfriend yet?" He asked as soon as Junghyun sat on the opposite side of the long table.

You could see Jimin's mother's curiosity peaking at that.

"Tell us, dear. Last time you were dating Kang Iseul, right? The actress. You're still with her?"

Everybody at the table nodded while you almost choked on the smoked quail you were eating. He was dating Kang Iseul? She was a popular actress who announced a hiatus three years ago. That actress Kang Iseul?

Junghyun chuckled and shook his head. "Nah, aunt, that was my brother, and uh, no, I'm not dating anybody currently."

"Oh well. I just wish your brother stops dating that woman. I never really liked that girl. She acts way too self-righteous! I mean, who cut ties with their billionaire father and live independently just so they can say they're self-made? It's ridiculous." Jimin's mother said in that usual snotty tone of hers, and you could not possibly process all of what was going on.

If it wasn't clear to you a moment ago, it was crystal now. Unfortunately, you were a bit chronically online and were there in real time when one random tweet blew up about Kang Iseul being a nepotism baby. But was this guy's brother really dating her? The most important and concerning thing, though, was that: why was Jimin's mom always so annoying about who her family members date? And this was not even her immediate family, mind you.

"Jina," Jimin's father had a warning tone when he called her but Jimin's mom just shrugged him off with a "tsk!"

"Kids are so ungrateful nowadays, don't you think? Anyway, Junghyun dear, you remember the Kang gala I told you about two months ago?" Jimin's mom looked pointedly at Jimin and you bit your lip.

Of course, here comes her passive aggressive disapproval of you. 

"Kang Heesu and her sister Kang Hani will be there. Heesu is a wonderful woman," she chuckled, looking over at Jimin's direction subtly. You had to physically restrain yourself from rolling your eyes. Couldn't she be more obvious about acting as a wingman for Jimin and Heesu? But she continued, just like she always did. "I also heard Kang Hani is going for senior partner at Yoon and Yang, you may be interested. Pretty lady."

Junghyun just awkwardly laughed. "I'll keep that in mind."

Jimiin's father suddenly spoke, making everyone look at him.

"Where is that kid?" He said, authority dripping through his voice. Jimin was obviously not close to his father, and who would be? Mr. Park was way too intimidating. You found it funny to think if he ever did anything remotely paternal towards his children.

"We were supposed to go together but he said he had something to finish. He'll be arriving later." Junghyun said, obviously not oblivious to the "kid" Mr. Park was referring to. You were way too uncaring to actually try to figure that out.

"I see." Jimin's father nodded. "How's Jeon and Min, Junghyun? I heard you were just appointed managing partner last week."

Junghyun responded with a "yes" and they started to talk about the law firm – you assumed – and other people they mutually knew related to the business.

You knew Jimin's complicated family tree was composed of all sorts of professionals, but damn, they had lawyers in here too. It was like out of a career day event at grade schools.

"Is it true Gukka's going to be CEO?" Jimin's mother said, joining the conversation.

You were glad they were doing all the talking. Last year, they talked to you like they were interrogating you and that was not nice.

"Well, dad's not giving up the company so soon. Gukka's going for interim CTO first." Junghyun said with a polite smile.

Gukka. That must be the brother of Junghyun, although it sounded more like a nickname than a real name.

"Your brother's a hard worker. He's looking at a CEO position, some are still at training programs." Jimin's father remarked with a pointed tone.

Oh, fuck me, you thought to yourself. You thought it was gonna take awhile for the comparison to start, but it seemed they were determined to beat their record of one hour from last year.

You tried subtly looking at Jimin to see if he was okay or anything, but you felt him squeezing your wrist under the table. His face was devoid of any emotion as he continued with his own food.

Junghyun, meanwhile, was obviously taken aback by the response and also looked over at Jimin. He was quick to recover, though – probably knew that was a jab at his cousin just like every other person in the room. Atmosphere grew tense, and you had to squirm in your seat a little bit.

"Training programs help a lot, though." Junghyun awkwardly laughed. You were starting to feel bad for him as well.

"Well, you're lawyering. Trainings are important. Mine's kinda stupid." Jimin said which made everybody look at him, including you.

"You're learning anything yet, son?" His father pointedly looked at him.

"We'll see."

Jimin's dismissive tone made you feel the eye roll he would've done after saying that.

Look, he rebelled for the most part of his life so him being passive-aggressive towards his family was not a new thing, but to witness it was both nerve-wracking and honestly... funny. His parents were such assholes so they probably deserved his attitude.

Mrs. Park smiled a fake one before looking at you.

"Well, what about you __ dear? You're a... what was that again? How is that going for you?"

Because you wanted to piss them off, you mirrored her fake smile and said, "I got fired six months ago at my accounting job."

"Pft—" you pinched Jimin's arm at his reaction.

Of course he'd laugh at that. You asked him how you could piss his parents off tonight just to get back at them from last year and he told you to pretend to be unemployed or you work a minimum wage job because that was their biggest ick. Jimin didn't know you were going to come through.

"Oh."

The look on Jimin's mom's face looked as if she heard the most scandalous thing ever, and if his father's frown was deep even before the dinner started, his face was now below the ground. It felt satisfying to get those looks on their faces. Good! They were such assholes. Imagine getting devastated at someone being unemployed? Okay – for the record, being unemployed was devastating but these people weren't sympathizing with that, they found it humiliating in an elitist way– criminal almost. 

You nodded, your lips almost getting tired from stretching them too far.

"Yeah. Anyway, I started working at a local burger joint. You should visit us sometime."

"I'm vegan." Jimin's mom said, her face now drained with the fake joy she's worn all night.

"We have vegan options." you quipped. Jimin once again made a sound beside you, hiding his laughter.

"Wait, really? They offer vegan options at a street burger joint?" Sunghoon, the youngest of the Park brothers, asked.

You almost laughed at the genuine curiosity in his voice. He was still in high school and from what Jimin told you, he was a nice kid. He wasn't very close to any of his brothers, though.

"Nah, it's the only one in town." You bullshit one more time, drinking the wine beside you. "Sorry, can I excuse myself for a minute?"

They nodded and you stood up, heading to the bathroom, brisking once you got out of their sight to get there more quickly.

It was now 10:30 pm – meaning, you had to do something to get Jimin out of here now if he wanted to be on time at the airport to send off Namjoon.

Once you got inside, you looked at yourself in the mirror and sighed. 

This whole thing was sucking the shit out of your soul, but you needed to get through it.

It took you awhile to finish your pep talk in the bathroom.

If only you could've have locked yourself in there to avoid socializing with anybody, you willingly would. But you were running out of time and unfortunately, you had something to do and that was to fake some illness to get both Jimin and you out of here.

When you got out to approach the family's table one more time, you suddenly stopped in your tracks.

The table was at least fifteen meters away from where you stood, but you could clearly see the side in which Jimin's cousin, Junghyun, sat, facing your direction. He wasn't the issue – no, far from it. It was the guy beside him who wore the same set of black tie as him; the face attached to the body who wore it though, was someone you did not expect to see.

Why the fuck was Jungkook, Unit 446, here?!

From where you were, you could see him engaging with Junghyun and Jimin's parents. You couldn't hear them, of course, but it was clear that they were acquainted – close – even from afar.

Why did he look so comfortable with the Parks? Why was he at the family table laughing and conversing with everybody, including Jimin? Why did he seem like he went to many of these, like this was just another Thursday for him?

There was a waiter who walked past you and you were grateful for it because had it not been the case, people would start to get weirded out about you standing on the same place longer than necessary, looking stoned. That was also an opportunity to run away from the situation without Jungkook possibly seeing and recognizing you.

"I'll take this," You told the waiter and grabbed the glass of champagne and quickly turned on your heels, heading to the opposite side of the family table where the Parks, and apparently, Jungkook were.

You found yourself heading to the bathroom again, your feet seemingly developing a mind of its own as it led you there unconsciously. You knew you'd be in trouble if they found out about you putting the champagne glass in the sink, but you needed to get inside the toilet and think over everything that was happening tonight.

What the fuck. What the fuck!  Again, why the hell was Jungkook here?

As far as you knew, he was just a regular man that happened to be living across from you. He was just supposed to be some guy you were regularly hanging out with nowadays. Your friend. Your crush – whatever! What he wasn't supposed to be is be here at your best friend's mother's birthday party and hanging out with his family!

Your phone dinged, a message notification from Jimin welcoming you.

cuntress #1 [10:32pm]: girl what happened I saw u going back to the bathroom?

You didn't know why it was suddenly too hot, but you felt the balls of sweat starting to form on the side of your forehead.

You [10:33pm]: im going with the diarrhea excuse

cuntress #1 [10:33pm]: tbh idc atp I just wanna go to joon 😔

"Shit!"

Right! Joon. Namjoon. Jimin needed to go to Nmajoon as soon as possible.

cuntress #1 [10:33pm]: also another cousin has arrived u rmr jeon jungkook he's junghyun's brother cuntress #1 [10:33pm]: love this guy but moms starting to compare me to him and I need out right NEOW im justt aking hits after hits jesusssssss

You could just feel the blood draining from your face as soon as you read Jungkook's name in the text.

Jeon Jungkook. Jungkook. Gukka. Kook-a.

That was why the Junghyun guy looked familiar. Because he had the same coloring of Jeon Jungkook. Because they were goddamn siblings.

You started to replay some memories in your head, trying to figure out if you've ever heard Jungkook talk about his family in one of your conversations. But as far as you remembered, he never did. All you knew about him was that he was from the States, and he only got here because of work and he had a dog and as far as you were concerned, his cousin was definitely not Park fucking Jimin, your best friend.

Pacing around the confined space of the toilet, you tried to wrack your brain if you've ever mentioned Jimin to him and in the event that you did, why he never told you that he was his cousin – but you came up blank. Blank because you never told him about your best friend's name... and in turn, Jimin didn't know what Mr. 446's name was, either. They were both genuinely oblivious about the whole thing and couldn't have made you a fool in the situation.

In short, you were the one who was stupid as hell for not connecting the dots sooner.

"Hey, you just landed?"

If it was a private conversation Jimin would've left the room but since he didn't, you decided to stay in bed, kind of listening in to the conversation, but also not, as you turned the volume down of the show you were watching earlier on your laptop.

"Nah, you want me to pick you up?" Jimin sat up on the edge of the bed and you looked at him curiously. "Sure, I'm free, Kook. You have a place to stay? Hotel suite or something?" He nodded to whatever the other person was saying on the other line. "Oh, you're here for three months? Thought you were just flying in for mom's birthday?"

It was moments after they said goodbye that Jimin turned to you to ask, "Well, my cousin's apparently staying here for three months. Got this job thing going on."

"Fuck me." You hissed, remembering that time when Jimin told you about his cousin staying here for three months because of work.

cuntress #1 [10:35pm]: its either ur taking a guinness world record breaker piss there or u really do have diarrhea now and ur shitting cuntress #1 [10:36pm]: anyway get this, jungkook's gonna be interim cto at your company did u know that??????????????????

You almost dropped your phone upon reading the last message.

What the hell did he mean by that?

Heart beating fast as if it wanted to break out of your own ribcage, you closed your eyes and read Jimin's message once again. There was no way he would be shitting you about any of this. He knew where you worked at and you knew your current company was his uncle's, and now that you knew Jungkook was his cousin...

Shit. Was this what they were talking about at the table earlier? About Junghyun saying his brother was gonna be interim CTO? Did he mean Jeon Jungkook all along? Your freaking neighbor?

Suddenly, you remembered the email you received that afternoon that you never bothered to check again because you simply forgot about it. Who even actually checks their work email? Literally no one. You spend your weeks facing your computer while email flew in like porn ads on a shady website, you weren't about to willingly go to the app and check it on your leisure time.

But maybe you should have.

Fingers involuntarily shaking in their wake as you switched to your work email on your phone, you clicked on the recent unread message that was on top from the HR department.

Subject: Invitation to Ceremony: Announcement of Interim CTO Dear Blue Nexus Inc. employee, We hope this email finds you well. We would like to inform you that a ceremony has been scheduled on July 29, 2028, 10:00 am at the AVR Hall 5, 12th floor. The purpose of this meeting is to announce the appointment of our interim Chief Technology Officer (CTO), Mr. Jeon Jungkook. As you may be aware, our previous CTO, Mr. Shin Juman, is currently on medical leave recovering from a stroke. While he is recuperating and undergoing treatment, it has become necessary for us to appoint an interim CTO  for an indefinite period of time to ensure the continuity and effectiveness of our operations. Your presence at this ceremony is highly valued as we introduce the new leadership to the team and outline our strategic direction moving forward. Light refreshments will be served. Thank you for your attention to this matter. We look forward to seeing you at the ceremony. Best regards, HR Department

You knew that feeling when you were just taking hits and hits? This was it.

So not only was Jeon Jungkook Jimin's cousin, he was also gonna be the interim CTO of the company you were currently working at. He was technically going to be your boss, and you would be both working in the same place all the while living across each other where he would see you taking out your trash every Sunday morning in your worn-out highschool PE shirt and pants. He was going to be your boss working at the company you complained to him about on the nights you walked together to your shared apartment complex.

You flirted with Jungkook. You flirted with the guy who was the son of the owner of your whole company building – and not only that, he was your best friend's cousin, to add salt to injury.

You [10:38pm]: jimin we need to get out of here

cuntress #1 [10:38pm]: ive been saying

You [10:38pm]: but i cant go out there again. Just tell them i had a problem in the bathroom??

cuntress #1 [10:38pm]: ok on it  cuntress #1 [10:38pm]: im kind of convinced u shitted in there tho????????

You rolled your eyes, but at the same time found an opportunity in that. Jimin can't know the truth.

You [10:39pm]: u cant judge me for having a very human experience fuck u the cake i ate earlier was giving cake boss

cuntress #1 [10:39pm]: KJAHFKGSIDFHDSHASFHSKJBF

You [10:39pm]: im literally doing this for u and joon

cuntress #1 [10:39pm]: IKNOW!!!!!!!!!!!!thanks to ur stomach problems cuntress #1 [10:39pm]: im going there

You [10:40pm]: make sure they don't see us again to really sell the whole im-embarassed-thing

cuntress #1 [10:40pm]: ON IT! Were going out the back door I don't think they'll notice

You couldn't even find it in you to laugh a little bit at your silly exchange and scheme, because you were way too stressed about what you just found out.

You let out a controlled, heavy breath, leaning your back on the door and shut your eyes aggressively.

"What the hell am I gonna do after this?"

PART TWO | ....

all right reserved © awrkive, 2024. no reposts, modification, and copying allowed. if you enjoy my work/s and have the extra means, please consider supporting me on ko-fi <3

[smutoperator]

Wife's Revenge

Krystal Jung "Mrs. Soojung", "Vicky" Jang Wonyoung x Male Reader

Part of Legends series

Tags: anal reluctance, ass eating, belly bulging, (lots of) blowjobs, cheater, creampie, domination, DSLs, facial, fast-paced sex, good-flavoring holes, it girls, leg-shaking orgasms, (some) lesbian, prostitutes, recording, revenge, riding, sex toys, strip club, threesome, tied-up, voyeurism, wife/mistress, wigs

Word count: 9546.

It's yet another night where you have arrived late. The days go by, and it seems like each day you get home a couple minutes later than before. Your wife rarely sees you these days, just when you go to bed and get up.

But wives know when things are unusual; they always do. And it's no different with Mrs. Soojung, your beautiful spouse that is on the verge of turning 30, and just like that, it feels like you don't want her anymore.

At this point, most wives would have already confronted their man. But Mrs. Soojung behaves differently. Either she doesn't seem to care about your late-night escapades or she's plotting something behind your back. Either way, you feel like you'll know it soon.

Your wife's birthday is coming up soon. You have to buy something for her out of appeasement at least, but your head these days is on the much younger girl you have been going out with lately.

Too bad Mrs. Soojung knows it too.

One day, without you noticing, she picks up your phone and starts texting the girl you're dating behind her back, a very young woman in her early 20s that just goes by the name of "Vicky.".

"Meet me at my place," Vicky texts you—well, your wife, actually—who exchanges messages with her and gets to see your whole story of torrid texts and even a couple dick pics in between that you sent to Vicky.

Mrs. Soojung finally arrives at Vicky's place, finding the girl that her husband was cheating on her with just chilling by her bed. She has to hold herself back. She clearly wants to smack Vicky in two pieces, but shows some restraint because she knows it's not her fault; her husband is a prick and needs to be dealt with.

"Vicky, interesting, I used to have a friend called Victoria," Mrs. Soojung says, reminding herself of the times she used to be Vicky's age. "The smell of your perfume—it's the same my husband has been carrying for months," Mrs. Soojung tells Vicky.

"I'm just a professional; they come with the money; we give them sex; I can't think about the feelings of their wives. Your husband isn't the first married man that I had as a client—far from it, actually," Vicky answers. 

Mrs. Soojung is truly impressed with the way Vicky carries herself. "How old are you?" she asks. "20," Vicky answers. Mrs. Soojung is surprised. She thought she would be much older, but at such a young age, Vicky seems to be a quite mature woman.

"You know, Vicky, my birthday is tomorrow." Mrs. Soojung says. "What gift do you want? Vicky asks. "Revenge," Mr. Soojung answers.

"For the right money, I can give you that," Vicky answers.

Mrs. Soojung hesitates but pays Vicky. The sex worker already has a plan drawn up in her mind. "Meet me at the strip club tonight," she says. "Here's your wig and your carnival mask," she continued, giving Mrs. Soojung her disguise.

Mrs. Soojung celebrated her birthday with you. The gift you gave her was rather unusual—fishnets. "I think you'll look very sexy in them," you told her. Soojung seemed to agree. 

"Sorry, I have to go, late business meeting," you told your wife. "I wish I could stay for your birthday," you told Soojung. "It's fine," she answered. The plan was set in motion.

Soojung knew exactly where you were going. Vicky messaged her directly. "Get ready," she texted. Vicky picked Soojung up in your house, and the two rushed to arrive at the strip club before you could get there.

"You look beautiful in this outfit," Vicky told Mrs. Soojung, who was wearing the fishnet you just had gifted her, a blonde wig slightly different from Vicky's own, glasses, and a nice lingerie. She barely had any friends, and that prostitute of all people seems to be kinder to her than any person in her circle besides her sister. Soojung still had some mistrusting about Vicky but was clearly embracing her partner-by-accident.

Vicky was the first to leave the room; the two were backstage. Loud rap music played in the club's background. Vicky was truly an intimidating presence. Her tall and skinny frame got even better when she put her high heels on and prepared herself for another performance.

You were already sitting at the strip club watching the opening performances, throwing a couple dollar bills for the girls trying to make it, until the announcement that you were looking for was made.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we're proud to present another performance of the great Vicky Jang," the announcer said at the speakers. Vicky slowly climbed upstage, her high heels making loud sounds. She looked at you in the eye, took off the jacket she was wearing, and started her performance, flaunting her long legs as she made moves around the pole in the center of the stage.

Vicky's long legs were always a highlight of her performances. She sat on the floor and started spreading them in front of you. Her pussy was enticigly close, within reach of your hands. You started dropping the first dollar bills, but Vicky ignored them and just kept performing. Truly a pro, once she's onstage all she cares about is hitting her moves perfectly, and she was pulling one heck of a pole dancing before leaving closer to you as you put more bills on the stage. 

Vicky's performance quickly turned into a solo show for you as she got on her knees and touched herself right in front of you. She leaned her head in your direction, showing her tall body for you, who nearly touched her mid-performance. More moves with her legs, and she climbed offstage, circling around you and then covering your eyes with her hands, before whispering some words in your ear.

"I know today is your wife's birthday, but the gift will be yours tonight," she told you.

Vicky uncovered your eyes, and a different blonde girl appeared on your sight. "Her name is Krystal," Vicky said to you. She gave you quite the welcome, pointing her high heels straight to your heart before climbing off the stage and sitting on your lap. You touched her butt and sensed the fishnets she was wearing, very reminiscent of the ones you had just gifted your wife. 

Krystal and Vicky danced together on stage. It was the first time Krystal was performing at a strip club, but Vicky could tell she had some good stage presence, wondering if she had done any kind of performance before, as unlikely as it sounded for a typical housewife. Vicky climbed up the pole and went upside down, while Krystal went on all fours seducing you, before Vicky decided to pull a killer move.

Climbing down the pole, Vicky moved in your direction and wrapped her long legs around your face. You could feel the amazing smell coming out of her pussy. She was just the most beautiful woman in the world. You felt a little guilty but couldn't help but think of leaving your wife and marrying Vicky on some uninhabited island and living there with her forever.

Krystal massaged you from behind as you watched Vicky before making a move and sitting on your lap, shoving you in Vicky's direction right at the angle where the stripper's pussy touched your forehead. 

Now things were going to heat up. Krystal unbuttoned your shirt, and the two started moving like crazy towards you. Both girls are ready to take on you at any second. Your heartbeat fastened like crazy. The girls took a couple pieces off their lingeries, and Krystal pushed Vicky towards your lap, where she started grinding on you. Krystal herself started grinding on Vicky and kissing the young stripper; she was so beautiful she couldn't help herself. Vicky truly activated some of her woman-loving instincts.

Krystal took the money you had left onstage and placed it on her fishnets. Her and Vicky headed backstage, plotting their next move. "He's on his knees already; it's time to attack," Vicky told your wife. 

Vicky sent her friend Elizabeth to extract as much money as possible from you. "He wants to pay an extra thousand dollars to continue the session," Liz reported to her. "Not enough," Vicky responded. "Now he's offering two thousand," Liz said after another check. "We want more," Vicky answered. Krystal was truly impressed at how Vicky could easily fleece any guy; she was truly that girl.

"Five thousand," Liz then said. "Done deal," Vicky said, going back to you with Krystal. "Here's the money," you told Vicky, offering her the $5,000. "It's five thousand for her too," she said, pointing to Krystal. You were recluctant, but you just couldn't say no to Vicky. "Okay," you answered as the money was flying out of your pocket. Krystal was smiling, enjoining the way Vicky had you on your knees.

The girls began moving, kissing you as they sat around your lap; both took turns grinding on your lap as the three of you shared kisses, including some torried triple kisses. Krystal gave Vicky's butt a little spanking as the young prostitute was making out with you. The two then had a few intimate moments with each other as both of you kept tapping Vicky's butt before you couldn't resist and decided to join them again. 

Krystal's bra nearly fell off as you moved more aggressively, before she decided to take it off and put up a show, making out with Vicky. "You wanna join us?" she asked. "Yes," you answered. "Then pay some more," she replied, quickly learning the teachings of Vicky.

Krystal spread Vicky's long legs and started eating the young girl's pussy. Vicky moaned softly as you kissed her and watched your wife dive in her pussy. "Eat that pussy, please," you told Krystal. As she was getting eaten out, Vicky reached into your clothed pants and caressed your cock. Krystal truly had a nice, plump ass, very fuckable, something you missed doing as Vicky had never allowed you in her ass and your wife hadn't done that in ages.

You took your cock off your pants, letting Vicky jerk it off as Krystal kept eating Vicky's pussy. Krystal quickly took notice of it and joined the young hooker. "It's so nice," she said. "We can suck it for some extra money," she continued, and you soon obliged to her demand.

Before Krystal could suck your cock, you dove into her already bare tits, sniffing and sucking them. For some reason, they reminded you of your wife, who was most likely sleeping at the moment, as the clock had already hit way past midnight. You kept kissing Krystal's tits and sucking them like a baby, prompting Vicky to also have some fun and take her bra off, allowing Krystal to grab your cock all by herself while Vicky's little tits entertained you.

Krystal sucked your cock, and you were already groaning. "Oh god," you said. You had been cheating on your wife for years and had yet to find a girl that sucked cock better than her, but now you had two, Krystal and Vicky, after searching for so long. "Damn, she's so good at this," you said to Vicky in between kisses.

"Yes, she's a longtime veteran of sucking the biggest cocks," Vicky said, praising Krystal before taking her turn on your cock herself. "You really stepped your game up after I praised your friend," you told her as Vicky made sure to give you a top-notch blowjob while Krystal had fun counting all those money bills you were leaving on their table.

"Oh fuck yes," you groaned as Vicky was hitting all the right spots. Krystal looked at her and got why that young girl had you on your knees. She was really good at that. Grabbing your balls, she added to the cock torture you had to endure, giggling as you tried to resist.

Krystal snatched your cock from Vicky's mouth and took some extra sucking of it, both girls fighting hard for that big shaft now but also cooperating a lot as Krystal handed your cock to Vicky multiple times for her to suck and bob her head all over it. "FUCK, FUCK," it was all you could scream as these two succubus drained your soul.

You laid your head on the sofa as you felt weaker than ever, while Krystal kept stroking your cock harder than ever. Vicky came in as you helped take her panties off while Krystal was devouring your dick like a demon. Vicky sat on your face as you sniffed her pussy, trying to cope with the increased pressure Krystal put on your shaft, the two kissing each other as they loved dominating you.

Vicky moaned hard as your tongue hit her folds. Krystal just kept doing what she was doing, engaging in countless deepthroats that were driving you insane. She then pushed Vicky's head against your cock, bobbing it on it as you two were now performing a 69. You pushed your hips upwards, attempting to fuck Vicky's face with the strength you had left, while savoring her pretty young pussy.

Krystal was in full control of your cock, stroking it as your tongue started to make Vicky cum; she loved the way the young girl moaned, inserting herself with some kisses between it, while never losing sight of your cock. Vicky collected some money while you turned your attention to Krystal, pulling her panties down and ripping her fishnets under Vicky's watch.

Vicky's seized the opportunity and licked Krystal's asshole. Her anus had long been a forbidden area for any stimulation, but maybe things were just being done wrong because Vicky's tongue made Krystal feel a sensation she hadn't felt in over a decade. Maybe she could open an exception for today because there was truly no bad thing Vicky could do; she was truly very skilled at eating any kind of ass.

"Ohhh fuck," Krystal moaned as Vicky kept eating her ass while strocking your cock. She nearly lost her breath as Vicky awoke her long, dormant anal folds. "AHHHHHHHH, FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK," she screamed as Vicky kept going, forcing her to turn around just not to have an anal orgasm.

Vicky showcased her talents, challenging Krystal as the two girls fought for your cock. "I want more; give me more," you told them as both licked your tip. "You want more?" Vicky asked. "Yes, I want everything; take all my money and give me everything," you answered. 

"Alright baby," Krystal says, opening her legs and ripping the remnants of her fishnets as you slowly inserted your cock in her pussy. "OHHHHH, my fucking..." she moaned, unable to finish the sentence as you and Vicky teamed up and started licking her nipples. Krystal slowly bounced, getting louder and louder. It was the same cock she had been bounced on for years, to mixed results, but something about Vicky had truly awakened the beast inside her; that girl was truly incredible.

Vicky massaged Krystal's pussy as she kept bouncing it on your cock. Krystal kept moaning hard, overstimulated in a way she hadn't felt in years. "Don't stop, don't stop," you told her. And indeed, Krystal didn't stop, riding your cock faster as she slowly regained a long-lost confidence. Vicky was always by her side, helping her feel the most possible pleasure as her hands kept working on Krystal's cunt.

"Come here," you told Krystal, making her wig and mask nearly fall off and almost ruining her disguise. But she stayed put and took the maximum pleasure possible from your cock. Krystal kissed you and let you pound her in a pearly gates position, wondering why you had never tried it with her in bed. "Does he only try those kinds of positions on prostitutes?" she thought.

"JESUS CHRIST, AHHHHHHH," Krystal screamed as the teamwork between your cock and Vicky's hand put her closer to a huge orgasm. "AHHHHHHHHH, FUCKKKKKK," she kept screaming. "Come on, slut, bounce on that," you dared her. Krystal accepted the challenge and did just that. "YES, YES, YES, YES," Krystal kept moaning. It was the same cock that had fucked her for years, but Vicky's presence in that room had turned things in a way she could never expect.

Krystal explodes in a massive orgasm as she closes her legs and coats your cock full of juices. "Come eat that pussy from my dick," you invite her, but Krystal is so out of breath it's Vicky who takes the prize all by herself. Krystal instead makes a rather unusual decision, licking Vicky's ass, trying to counter pleasure with some disgust.

But damn, she was very wrong.

As Krystal's dive into Vicky's ass, a beautiful scent of roses penetrates her nostrils. "Wtf is that? Assholes are supposed to be dirty," she thinks. But Vicky is nothing like the regulars; she's a truly special girl.

Vicky keeps sucking your cock as Krystal shoves her ass in your face for her to eat her asshole out. What started as some rare moment had truly turned into a kink. You obviously happily took it; after all, if your wife never lets you eat her ass but a prostitute happily does it, then good for you.

"Seems like you really want to sit on that dick the way you're sucking it," you tell Vicky. "Of course," she answers, staying with it in her mouth all the time. Shortly after, Vicky sits her tight young cunt in your cock.

"Let me see, let me see." Vicky is already begging for your cock as she adjusts it into her entrance. "Wow, that's so hot," Krystal tells her as they kiss each other. Vicky lets out a soft moan as Krystal licks her neck, beginning her bounce on your cock.

"That's right, use that cock," you tell Vicky as she starts riding that dick. Her slow ride is like poetry in motion, her hitting the perfect spots on your cock while sharing kisses with Krystal under the lights of the strip club.

"Yeah, yeah, come on, keep going," you tell Vicky as she increases her pace, her riding getting sexier and sexier, while she keeps kissing Krystal at all moments. Krystal then drops down, kissing you and letting Vicky ride your cock all by herself, her moans getting louder and echoing all around the club.

Vicky now bounces really fast, prompting you to thrust upwards to meet her bounces. "Yeahhhh," she moans. "Twerk that ass on my cock," you tell her, and she does it perfectly, with an amazing pace that drives you nuts, Krystal looking at her eye to eye and getting quite impressed by her riding skills despite Vicky being very young.

"OH YES YES YES YES YES YES," Vicky says in a fast way that is nearly in sync with her bounces. She giggles, stretching her long arms into your torso and making sideways moves that get your cock throbbing even harder, before beding herself in the direction of Krystal's pussy and eating it out, allowing you to push up her cunt while she eats Krystal's.

"I love this; give me the taste of it, you way, letting Vicky ride you while she eats Krystal, and then kisses you to taste Krystal's amazing ice cream-flavored pussy while never ceasing to bounce up and down that big cock. "Come on, come on," you encourage Vicky as she rides you like a baddie.

Vicky is truly amazing and is exactly her energy that brings the best from you and Krystal; her licks in the other stripper's pussy making her moan hard and putting her on the verge of cumming; her bouncing on your cock making you feel blessed to have such an amazing girl to please you.

"AHHHHHH, AHHHHHHH, OHHHHHH," Krystal starts moaning as she pushes Vicky's face into her cunt, ready to explode at any second. Despite being buried on it, Vicky remains calm and collected, keeping a steady pace as she pleases your cock. "That's it, baby, come earn your reward and suck that dick," you tell her, leaving Krystal by herself to enjoy her moaning orgasms while Vicky tastes her cherry-flavored pussy from your cock.

But Krystal doesn't want you to give your whole attention to the young stripper, sitting on your face as she gives her pussy for you to eat out. The two girls now battle to see which one you like the most, but you just enjoy the ride and let them duel without giving them any clues over who's winning.

Both girls show why they are such great professionals, Vicky bobbing her head hard on your cock while Krystal grinds her folds on your face at a great pace. There isn't a second you don't go without being overwhelmed by these two beauties, panting and moaning all the time trying to survive.

"Licky my balls," you order to Vicky while Krystal jumps on top of you, takes your shaft in her mouth, and performs a 69. "Yeah, yeah, like that," you tell them, the girls sucking the soul out of you like a pair of crazy succubus. "This is so good; I feel so lucky having two girls fighting for my fucking cock," you tell them.

Krystal gets on her knees on the couch, allowing you to put your cock back in her pussy. Vicky gets by her side, and they kiss each other. "OH GOD," Krystal moans as you push your cock hard into her pussy without any breaks, grabbing her waist to take her at a fast pace, as she clings to Vicky to take the pounding you give her, but not without lots of moaning. Vicky kisses you and leaves Krystal all by herself, screaming. "AHHHH, AHHHHHH, YEAHHHHH, YEAHHHH," she says, her eyes rolling as you spank her butt.

As Krystal quickly gets out breath, Vicky quickly takes her pace, getting fucked similarly, but she's the one that advances into Krystal as you take your cock deep inside her, kissing the other strip in perfect sync with your thrusts, slowly lowering her head to eat Krystal out, giving amazing orgasms to her and making her moan all over the couch, as Krystal closes her eyes and her nipples get more and more erected while Vicky buries her face in her cunt.

Vicky looks at Krystal while you pump her hard, making the other stripper cum while her pussy gets stretched out. Krystal gets on top of Vicky's butt and licks get pussy as you keep fucking her, taking a couple turns to lube your cock with Krystal's mouth. "Lick that asshole while I fuck her pussy," you tell Krystal, who obliges and slowly starts falling in love with the taste of Vicky's butthole.

"Good girl, now suck it and clean that cock," you tell Krystal. "Look at you, such a beautiful and fuckable ass," you tell Vicky as you spank her butt and keep fucking her, kissing Krystal in a way that makes you remind of your wife. You then grab Vicky's hair. "Come here," you tell her, pushing her face into Krystal as they keep kissing each other and fucking her like an animal, making her cheeks clap hard and her legs work hard.

"Come back," you tell Krystal, letting her bounce on your cock while Vicky suck her fellow stripper's tits. "OHHHHH," Krystal moans loudly but accepts the challenge of bouncing on your big cock, even if it quickly leaves her getting out of breath. You put her body on the floor, switching to a piledriver position that allows for very deep penetration. "OHHHHH, OHHHHH, OHHHH JESUS CHRIST," Krystal screams as she is now upside down, you and Vicky looking from above at a very dominating spot while her back gets pressed to the floor at each pounding you give her.

"Let me work that fucking pussy, you slut," you tell Krystal. Vicky comes in, and Krystal learns about her magic hands. "OH FUCKKKKK!" she screams as soon as Vicky places her hands on her clit. You end up having mercy for Krystal, as she can barely stand a couple minutes in that position, switching your attention back to Vicky for another round of bouncing.

Krystal rims your asshole trying to get back on her senses after such a crazy pounding, while Vicky entertains herself using your cock as her playground. Krystal looks from above, amazed and trying to understand how such a young girl can be such a pro at dickriding, taking your big cock like nothing and pulverizing it as she impales herself on it. She looks at her cheeks and just watches your cock disappear between them, licking your balls as her admiration for Vicky only grows.

"FUCK, FUCK," you say as Vicky once again pushes you to the edge. You instincively spank her ass, but it amounts to nothing; Vicky just devours your cock, and her ride only gets more insane. "OH SHIT!" you scream as one of her bounces gets close to snapping your cock in half.

In the end, you have to shove Vicky to the side just not to cum, turning your eyes back into Krystal. "That's way too much," you tell Vicky, who just laughs. Krystal chimes in and sucks your cock, getting to know better of the cherry-like flavors of Vicky's pussy.

"Let me see you lick that pussy," you tell Krystal as she gets on her knees and eats Vicky out while you jerk off to the scene. Vicky opens her mouth wide and moans, enjoying the way Krystal attacks her folds. You really like the curves of Krystal's body and her well-shaped butt, enhanced as she's in primed position to get taken from behind.

"I love the way you lick that pussy," you tell Krystal. "YEAHHHH, YEAHHHHH," a trembling Vicky screams as Krystal keeps licking her. "Look at her face, so slutty, she is really enjoying it," you say. Your words encourage Krystal, who pushes further and dives her fingers into Vicky's wet fuckhole, thrusting them as if she had a strap attached to herself and pounding the young prostitute until her hands are completely covered of Vicky's juices.

"Don't hide her face; I wanna see her moans," you tell Krystal, who gets back down and dives back to eat Vicky out. You watch both and increase the pace of your masturbation, getting closer and closer to cumming. You can't resist the urge of Krystal's fuckholes staring at you and pushing your cock back in her pussy, fucking her as hard as you can and burying her face all the way down Vicky's vagina.

"Open your legs, Vicky, let me watch her lick your pussy," you command as you increase the pace against Krystal. The heat of her tightening cunt gets you even closer, as both girls are now moaning messes ready to explode at any second. Vicky stretches her feet as you lick them while pounding Krystal hard and making her beg for god, giving her hard spanks in her butt.

You push Krystal to the side and decide to lead Vicky to an orgasm yourself. "AHHHHHH, AHHHHHH, AHHHHHHH," she screams as if a baby is being expelled from her womb. As if this wasn't enough, you take your cock back in her pussy and pound it. Vicky just opens her legs and moans, Krystal coming from behind and stroking your shaft as you pound Vicky hard. 

"Come on, come on, come on, suck it," you use Krystal's mouth as you lube your cock to fuck Vicky. Krystal jumps over and kisses the young stripper, and then you enjoy the animalesque way you two have sex. You switch back to Krystal, opening her legs and groping her tits, her clinging to Vicky not to let out loud moans as her nipples get even more erect. Very out of breath, her walls clench around your cock, forcing you to hold back, not to cum.

"Get down," you tell them, actually showing where you want to cum, jerking off your cock until you bust right at Krystal's face. Her face painted white while she swapped your sperm in her mouth with Vicky, and then taking your money home was the last thing you remembered before someone came from behind and knocked you uncounciously.

As you regain your sight, you find yourself blindfolded and unable to move your body. Your hands and legs are tied up to a chair. "Help me, help me, please," you say. "Please," you keep going. You can hear a pair of lips touching each other and kissing; wonder who is beside you. A pair of hands take your tie off.

"Show me, take control of him," a girl's voice says. Shortly after, you get smacked in the face, still blindfolded. "That's so funny," the woman who slapped you says. "Who's in charge now? Not you. Who's the boss? Not you," the woman says. "I'm so sick of your cheating ways," she continues.

You can recognize your wife, Mrs. Soojung's voice, but who's the other girl beside her? Why are they doing this? "Ohhh, baby, don't cry," Soojung tells you, enjoying the punishment she gives you. I guess that's what she wants for her birthday—punishing you after finding out you were with two girls at a strip club.

Soojung keeps giggling as she slowly starts taking your shirt off. Both girls massage your torso and spank it. The other girl rubs her little tits against you, making you wonder if you hadn't touched them yet; they surely feel familiar. "Tell us how nice they are," Soojung yells at you, as she also shoves hers down your mouth for you to lick before spanking you again for daring to do so.

"You're all yours; come with us," Soojung tells you as she keeps spanking your torso. The other girl films you as you stay tied to the chair. "I'm gonna fuck the shit out of you like a demon; punish you for cheating on me with those prostitutes," Soojung keeps saying. "Kiss her," the other girl demands as Soojung pushes you closer to her lips before spitting in your mouth.

Both girls kiss each other in front of you. "Kiss my ass, you worthless cheater," Soojung demands, and you oblige, kissing the clothed fabric that covers her butt. Soojung starts grinding on your lap, making your erection start to build up again. "Enjoy it and appreciate her," the other girl tells you. Soojung reaches with her hands, rubbing your cock while her tits rub against your torso.

"Don't you want this? Filming a fucking sex tape with your wife on her birthday?" the other girl asks, pointing the camera she's holding towards Soojung and you making out. You giggle, thinking it is indeed quite hot. "I've been waiting to do this for a long time," Soojung tells you. "But you never said that before," you reply to her.

Soojung pulls your pants down. "Look at how hot she is; oh wait, you can't see her," the other girl pranks you. Your cock comes up already throbbing from your underwear, with Soojung's fellow partner in crime coming to suck it first, giving you a sexy blowjob that also doesn't feel unfamiliar to you, but you, dumb as a rock, can't recognize where it comes from. Soojung then takes her turn, bobbing her head hard on your cock without using her hands.

"Perfect, lick it like an ice cream," the other girl says as Soojung savors the tip of your cock. She closes her eyes and enjoys every second of it while the other girl keeps filming it. "Tell her how good she sucks your cock," the girl demands of you, just as Soojung pulls of a crazy deepthroat.

"Do you love that?" the other girl asks. "Of course," you tell them. "I didn't hear it, louder," the other girl tells you, bobbing Soojung's head against your cock. "I love it," you answer just as the other girl now massages your balls and tries to edge you to the fullest.

"Oh fuck, fuck," you groan as the other girl takes your cock deep in her warm mouth. Her dick sucking lips push your cock to the limit, you having to push as hard as you can just not to cum at the spot. "You know it feels good, doesn't it?" Soojung asks. "I don't think I'll be able to resist," you tell her. "Poor boy," she replies, giggling.

The other girl finally takes your blindfold, and you recognize her at the spot, even though her blonde wig she usually wears is not there but rather her natural brunette hair. "Vicky?" you say shorlty after looking at your wife and wondering how she found out. "Wait, that stripper, Krystal, was you all along?" you ask your wife.

"Such a dumb boy, isn't he?" Soojung laughs as she asks Vicky. "Also, you can call her by her real name now, Jang Wonyoung, while you can call me Krystal now; since you had so many encounters with her, it seemed like she was your wife and I was your prostitute," a mad Soojung tells you.

Krystal deepthroats you again, showing she wasn't being out of character when she did it multiple times at that strip club. Wonyoung had made Krystal discover her long-lost potential of being a slut, and now she was going to unleash it to the fullest, like the angry wife that she was. Wonyoung spat on your dick and kept making Krystal push harder and harder, your wife answering every single call from that baddie slut.

Wonyoung and Krystal team up to suck the tip of your cock, making you have flashbacks from your time at the strip club, their tongues sending you over the moon as they run all over your veiny cock, giggling and enjoying edging you as hard as they can while kissing each other. Krystal then gets on all fours and lets Wonyoung lick her asshole while trash talking you. "Her tongue is so amazing in my ass. Why can you be as good as her licking my ass?" she asks.

Krystal moans loudly as she dives to suck your cock further while Wonyoung keeps licking her ass. As you three engage in that oral train, for the first time in years, Krystal thinks of having your cock inside her ass, given the amazing work Wonyoung's tongue is doing with it and making her desire for further anal stimulation, despite her longtime reluctance.

"A cunt massaging another," Krystal says as Wonyoung reaches lower and puts her fingers in your wife's pussy. "You got it right, I'm a cunt, and your husband is a massive asshole," Wonyoung replies. The chemistry between her and Krystal is unmatched; the two hardly have met each other, but Krystal loves how Wonyoung is able to pick the perfect spots in her body and stimulate her better than you ever could over all these years.

More and more, Krystal opens herself up for Wonyoung's touch, letting the young girl eat her out wonderfully. Krystal always enjoyed those kinds of lesbian fantasies but rarely let other girls eat her out, with a few exceptions such as her sister or Amber, which are very much part of her innermost circle. But that unknown girl was doing such wonders to her body that she didn't hesitate, letting Wonyoung's tongue run wild over her clit and make it squirt in front of you.

"Are you enjoying the show, baby?" Krystal asks you. "Look how sexy her tongue looks licking my beautiful pussy," she continues, praising Wonyoung at any chance she gets. "I think I'll become a lesbian; her tongue is so much better in my pussy than your cock," she continues, keeping the trash taking going. "And you can't do anything to stop it, baby, all tied up and just watching my cunt squirt all over her pretty face," Krystal continues.

"OH FUCK YES, YES, YES, DON'T YOU FUCKING STOP," Krystal moans as Wonyoung does her magic with her tongue, putting your wife on the verge of cumming and gushing all over her face while you can just watch. "AH, AH, AH, AH," Krystal moans loudly in a way that she hadn't done to you in a while. "You know what? I think she earned a reward," she says.

Krystal takes Wonyoung's panties off and dives to eat her pussy. She gets marveled at Wonyoung's incredible taste, quickly getting addicted the deeper she takes her tongue in the young girl's cunt. Wonyoung looks at you and sees you're jerking off to the scene. "You love watching it, slave," she tells you. The girls are soon scissoring each other and moaning very loud, leaving you in awe as their juices get the wooden floor incresingly slippery.

Krystal finger-fucks Wonyoung's cunt and teases her. "Do you want my husband's cock fucking you like that?" your wife asks her. "YES, PLEASE, DON'T STOP, EAT MY PUSSY LIKE THE FUCKING BITCH I AM," Wonyoung answers screaming, loving the quick but soft touch Krystal's fingers provide. Your wife goes crazier and crazier, putting Wonyoung's body on your lap while she eats her out and making your cock rub against the young girl's soft skin.

"Tell him where my tongue is," Krystal asks Wonyoung. "In my ass, I love it," Wonyoung says. Slowly but surely Krystal was opening up to kinks that she used to refuse, all because Wonyoung was so incredible she felt wrong for not using her to the fullest, getting enamored by the young girl and treating her like an it girl of sex.

Wonyoung shakes her ass cheeks as Krystal dives her tongue between them. It was what your wife needed to be fully convinced. She starts spanking the young girl's butt and gets more and more in love with it, shoving her middle finger up Wonyoung's anus just to hear her beautiful moans, and then pulling out to taste it. "Damn, this is the tastiest butthole I've ever seen," she says. "You know what it deserves for tasting so good? To sit on my husband's dirty fucking cock," she continues.

As soon as she gets Krystal's authorization, Wonyoung climbs on your lap, taking your cock up her ass in one go. The loud moan she lets out makes Krystal believe she won't be able to take it, just like she hasn't in many years. But that's not the case; far from it.

"OH FUCK!" Wonyoung screams as your massive cock impales her ass, but she's determined to bounce as fast as she can. Krystal watches her as a mix of both a motherly figure and a curious woman learning from a young slut. She can't resist and grabs Wonyoung's cheeks, pushing your cock deeper and faster up her tight asshole. Wonyoung moans are loud, but her determination to take your cock trumps everything else.

"FUCK IT, FUCK IT, FUCK IT!" Krystal screams as she spanks Wonyoung's butt, but the more she does it, the harder Wonyoung rides it. Maybe it's her young age; maybe she does it every night, but what a crazy rider Wonyoung is. Krystal had caught a glimpse of it at the strip club, but that was with her pussy; it turned out she could do both holes with ease and destroy any cock that goes inside of them with extreme ease.

"I wanna taste it," Krystal says, pulling your cock out and savoring the best flavor she had ever tasted from it. Good lord, how does Wonyoung's ass smell so good? Your wife was truly impressed; no wonder you were so addicted to cheating on her with that Vicky girl.

"I love how you enjoy tasting my asshole," Wonyoung tells Krystal as she resumes bouncing on your dick. Krystal now just watches; you're getting very sweaty as the young girl puts you on the edge. Krystal frees you from the chair, allowing you to carry-fuck Wonyoung while she licks your balls under both of you. "I FUCKING LOVE IT, FUCK ME, FUCK ME, FUCK ME," Wonyoung screams.

"OH, OH, OH, OH OH, FUCK, YES, YES, YES," Wonyoung moans as she starts orgasming. You put her on the couch and keep fucking her ass under a mating press while she grabs a sex toy and uses it to stimulate Krystal's own butthole, before Krystal takes it by herself and creams herself watching you fuck Wonyoung on the couch, but feeling a little jealous as it seems like your escapades with the long-legged girl have allowed you to build some quite good chemistry with her.

Krystal squirts herself as you choke Wonyoung before coming in to sit on the pretty girl's face, offering her pussy as a relief to the poundings you give her. "Can I taste more of it?" Krystal asks you, who obliges, but a little mad you're forced to pull out of Wonyoung's tight asshole, unleashing your fury against your wife's throat and pounding it relentlessly, way faster than you did to Wonyoung's ass.

Krystal gets really slutty, taking the poundings in her throat like a champ and licking your cock every time you take a break. Wonyoung eater her pussydown low, making your wife feel in heaven as you treat her like your bitch and clean your cock in her face. "More, more, more," Krystal demands, as just like the more she spanked Wonyoung, the faster she went, the faster you fuck her throat, the more she wants you to keep going.

Krystal finishes the facefucking session spitting on your cock and letting Wonyoung handle it for a bit as she lets you fuck her face and slap your cock against it, but not for long. "Put your cock in my fucking pussy right now," an intimidating Krystal orders, leading you to bring your fun with Wonyoung to an instant halt.

"YEAH, YEAH, YEAH, YEAH," Krystal screams as you pound her pussy while she's on top of the couch. Wonyoung adds extra stimulation, grabbing the toy Krystal was entertaining herself with and shoving up your wife's anus. "Keep going, baby, fuck that pussy, such a dirty fucking boy, aren't you? Going from her asshole straight to my cunt," she says.

You and Wonyoung compete to see who can fuck Krystal the fastest. Either way, both of you know she's gonna cum at any moment, so it's a win-win situation; you can claim it was your cock that gave her pussy an orgasm, and Wonyoung can claim she gave Krystal an anal orgasm with the sex toy. "Stuff both those fucking holes," Krystal demands from both of you as she receives a triple kiss.

"FUCK THAT PUSSY, FUCK HER HARDER," Krystal gives the command to you, who keeps pushing. It clearly seems your cock is losing the battle to Wonyoung's sex toy, so you just decide to put an end to it, pushing Krystal down the couch and obliterating her cunt like she was some hentai character that only existed to be a fuckhole. Wonyoung helps you by sitting on your wife's face and squirting all over Krystal's mouth, letting you use her wife as much as you can while her moans get muffled by the young girl's ass.

As you pick up the pace you pound Krystal's used-up cunt, you enjoy how much your cock bulges under her magnificent abs. It was a view that you loved every time you fucked her, but that had gotten rarer and rarer, but the sexy passionate missionary position you fucked her cunt in that couch was perfect for it to pop out again, with you toying with Krystal's insides and poking your cock in different angles at each thrust you gave her, particularly enjoying the ones that landed with the tip of your cock right at her belly button.

You pound Krystal like a fucktoy, watching her moans grow louder and louder and unable to get silenced under Wonyoung's ass. That's how it's supposed to be. She was probably finally telling you to go easy on her, like she did many times over those years, but this time you couldn't listen, so the louder she moaned, the harder you abused her cunt. But boy, you were really wrong.

"FUCK HER HARDER," Krystal says as she frees her mouth from Wonyoung's grinding pussy just for a second. Damn, when did your wife turn into such a slut?, you ask yourself, but after gathering your thoughts, fuck Krystal just like she wants it: hard, fast, strong.

"Let's make her fucking pussy cum," Wonyoung says, stretching her long arms right into Krystal's pussy. You follow suit, and both of you massage your wife's clit. Krystal starts growling before she announces. "I'M FUCKING CUMMING," Krystal says. "Then cum for me," Wonyoung replies, grabbing Krystal's beautiful face and kissing it just as Krystal lets out a massive geyser of squirt out of her cunt that surprises you, and so does Wonyoung, proud of the work her hands did on Krystal.

Krystal slides down the couch, her body rubbing against Wonyoung's as she reaches an orgasm that leaves her shaking on the floor. In spite of that, you just keep pounding her like she's just a sex doll built to give you the maximum pleasure. You push Krystal's body back up the couch, closing her legs by bringing them together and resuming fucking her pussy while Wonyoung puts her big hands in your wife's clit, you two doing the perfect teamwork to give Krystal the most shaking orgasms known to mankind. Her body trembles from head to toe, but you two just don't stop.

"Make that pussy cum, make that pussy cum," Wonyoung commands as you stay fucking Krystal. The young girl brings her massive Hitachi vibrator and puts it right in your hands to massage Krystal's increasingly throbbing clit, while letting your wife's moans echo through her tight pussy as she gets back to sitting on Krystal's face.

"USE THOSE TWO MAGIC WANDS TO MAKE ME FUCKING CUM AS HARD AS I CAN, FUCKKKK." Krystal screams as her face turns red, and she's nothing but a host of intense orgasms that would make the weakest girls beg for mercy. But Krystal isn't like other girls; she's a legend, an it girl, and they are built different; they are once-in-a-generation girls that can perform the most mind-blowing sex known to men. 

"DON'T STOP, JUST FUCK ME, FUCK ME, FUCK ME," Krystal begs. "Fuck her harder; look how much she wants it," Wonyoung orders to you. "Give me that cunt," Krystal says, pushing the young girl's pussy against her face to cope with the heat your cock and the Hitachi provide against her own's. "You fucking love that, don't you?" Wonyoung brags.

"OH MY GOD, THAT'S SO FUCKING GOOD YESSSSSSSSSS," Krystal says as she explodes in another orgasm just as you give her ass another spank. She says a bunch of unrecognizable words, just having enough forces to stick her tongue out as if she had taken a massive electric shock, while Wonyoung grinds her pussy in her face. Her eyes only see a red light, her teeth ache, and the four walls of her pussy clench to unbelievable levels of tightness. 

An exausted Krystal finishes her orgasm, but she still has strength to deliver the next order. "Fuck her pussy," she says in a commanding voice, pushing you to spread Wonyoung's long legs and take the plunge against her tight walls again. "You know what? Fuck her ass, fuck any of her holes," Krystal adds, grabbing the Hitachi and putting it in her clit just as she sits on the couch right above Wonyoung's pretty face.

"Squirt all over my face; cover it with your juices," Wonyoung tells Krystal with a smile as your cock finds her way into her pussy. You choke the young girl and treat her like your next toy, all under your wife's watch, the juices coming out of Krystal's pussy telling if you succeeded or failed in the quest she gave you.

"You're such a good boy; look at how much you love fucking my tight pussy," Wonyoung says as you two are now face to face. "OHHHHH FUCKKKKK," Wonyoung moans as you give her long legs some slapping. Krystal stays fixated, masturbating herself to the scene, showing her approval as her cold juices leak out of her cunt and land on Wonyoung's body, making the youngest moan again.

"Open your mouth, open your fucking mouth," Krystal orders as she delivers another squirt shower in Wonyoung right at it. You go harder, wishing for your wife to pull out another squirt show like that. But Krystal had different plans.

Krystal flips Wonyoung around and pushes the young girl's butt upwards. "Fuck my ass," Wonyoung commands, doing exactly what Krystal intended her to do; these two have indeed great chemistry. With just one leg on the ground, Wonyoung takes your anal pounding, while Krystal sucks her perky tits and spits on her face. "Fucking slut, you can't resist my husband's cock, can't you?" Krystal asks.

Wonyoung can't even answer, as Krystal just shoved her hands to massage the young girl's cunt while you fucked her ass. Every time you take a break from fucking her butt, Krystal comes in to bob her head on your cock, confirming her addition from Wonyoung's tasty butthole now runs rampant. " is all she can say. Every time you take a break from fucking her butt, Krystal comes in to bob her head on your cock, confirming her addition from Wonyoung's tasty butthole now runs rampant. As you keep fucking Wonyoung, Krystal, let's the young girl use her sex toy in her own ass.

"Fuck me, please fuck me, AHHHHHH," Wonyoung screams while Krystal herself moans hard with the Hitachi and the sex toy plugged in her holes. Your balls smash Wonyoung's throbbing clit as you take turns between her ass and pussy now. Krystal plugs a larger dildo on Wonyoung's mouth and connects it with her own pussy as both of you turn the young girl into the source of all of your pleasures. "Dirty little fucking bitch," Krystal says about Wonyoung as you shove her face into Krystal's pussy while fucking hers even faster, Krystal incorporating the jealous wife character to the fullest and spitting on Wonyoung multiple times.

Wonyoung and Krystal cum together as your cock and the dildo provide the pleasure they need, both sharing the ends of it in their mouths. But then you come with a surprise.

You put Krystal on all fours and tell her something you hadn't done in years. "I'm gonna fuck this ass," you say, spanking her butt. "If you shoved a couple toys on it, you can take my cock too," you continue. But to your surprise, Krystal this time gives you a very different answer.

"Yes, yes, please fuck my ass," she tells you. Watching you fuck Wonyoung's butt really turned her on. It's been nearly 7 years since she last took a cock in her ass, but now she's finally ready.

You shove your cock in Krystal's ass at the same time Wonyoung shoves the dildo in her pussy. "Fuck yes," Krystal moans, the prospect of getting double-stuffed by a cock and a dildo being very enticing to her. Wonyoung uses her spit to make both instruments slide easier into Krystal fuckholes. "YES, PLEASE, YES, FUCK ME," Krystal begs as she turns into an ultrawhore. "That's so fucking hot," Wonyoung says.

Krystal is all smiles as your cock pounds her ass. Maybe it's Wonyoung's presence, but her fears regarding anal sex seem to be completely gone. "That cock is so fucking good in my ass," she tells you. Wonyoung takes the dildo out, giving you free reign to pound your wife's tight asshole. "FUCK IT, FUCK IT, FUCK IT," Krystal begs as Wonyoung adds more spit and massages your wife's cunt, making her scream very loud in a way that can be heard way beyond the four walls of your house.

"Make her fucking cum, fucking make her cum," Wonyoung says, switching the order of a few words. Indeed, you do just that, making Krystal explode with her first anal orgasm in nearly a decade. "YES, YES, YES, MORE, MORE, MORE, FUCK ME HARDER, FUCK THAT ASS, DESTROY IT, PLEASE," she screams as Wonyoung spanks her butt and licks her anus at the same time your cock obliterates it. "FUCK, I'M GONNA CUM AGAIN," Kyrstal says as she squirts all over the couch.

"Let's clean this cock together," Krystal orders to Wonyoung, eager to have a taste of her own asshole after so many years. And damn, she had forgotten how good she tasted. "Wow, it's better than mine," Wonyoung says, complimenting your wife. The two it girls with good-smelling anuses polish your knob to the fullest, each girl licking one side of your shaft while taking turns to dive balls deep down your erection from time to time.

Krystal proves to be a kind wife, pushing Wonyoung to get her face fucked and taste more of your wife's perfect asshole. "You taste so amazing," Wonyoung says again as your balls get engulfed in her mouth and your cock impales it like a massive sword, Krystal making sure to push it harder until she makes Wonyoung gag.

"Looks like you like my asshole a lot, you fucking cunt," Krystal says. "Now how about my cunt, since you're also one?" she continues. "Wanna taste my cream-filled pussy?" she asks Wonyoung. "Of course," the young girl answers.

"Come here, both of you, please me," Krystal orders, getting herself on all fours and pushing your cock back in her pussy while she shoves Wonyoung's ass in her face to get turned on by the smell of her butthole. You take your wife's cunt hard from the start, her walls clenching further as Wonyoung's smell invades her nostrils. You spank Krystal's butt and drive her away from Wonyoung's ass, but no problem; she just stretches her hands right into the young girl's cunt.

Krystal gets her cunt hammered like it hasn't been in a while, you using her pussy as a jerkoff hole, you two trading spankings between butts, you on Krystal, her on Wonyoung. "Eat my ass," Wonyoung demands, Krystal getting double the pleasure once again.

"This is the hardest you can fuck me? Come on," Krystal says, daring you to push the pace even further. You do it just like that, attacking her pussycat at full speed. "Fuck me harder, give it to me," Krystal keeps pushing, her cheeks getting clapped hard at your increasingly fast thrusts.

You go full animalesque on Krystal, grabbing her hair and pushing her body onto the couch, prone-boning her as her face lands on Wonyoung's butt and uses it as a pillow, absorbing the crazy poundings you give her. She gets used like a fleshlight, and you are not caring how used up her pussy will be after it or whether she can walk afterwards; all you wanna do is destroy your slutty wife like she never had the chance for you to do before.

"Take his fucking cock, take his fucking cock," Wonyoung demands as Krystal gets absolutely destroyed. "AH, AH, AH, AH," it's all Krystal is able to scream, and soon her screams are joined by yours.

"FUCK FUCK, I'M GONNA CUM," you say. Seconds afterward, you fill your wife's pussy to the brim. Krystal remembers she's not on the pill, but it's too late. Your birthday gift to her will most likely be a baby. But in the end, she actually enjoys it, digging it to feed Wonyoung and thank her.

"Thanks, Ms. Jang; without you, this wasn't possible," Krystal tells the young girl. "I'm thankful too, Mrs. Soojung," Wonyoung replies. "You can call me anytime; by the way, you can just call me Wonyoung; I prefer it that way," she says, leaving.

The next day you wake up, it seems like finally your marriage with Mrs. Soojung will be restored back to the early days, until you receive devastating news from your wife's mouth.

"I'm filing for divorce," she says.

"Why?" you ask her.

"Do you really need to ask?" Krystal replies.

"But we had a great night tonight," you tell her.

"Not really, you only tried because of that Vicky girl, without her, all you can give me is very boring and vanilla sex," Krystal says.

"I promise to do better," you tell her.

"Empty promises, well, things will be easy for me; Vicky recorded everything we did last night in that room," Krystal says.

"Damn, this was all a trap, wasn't it?" you say.

"Dumb boy, like always, I just wanted to use you and take revenge for your cheating antics," Krystal replies.

Indeed, Krystal already had a new partner for herself.

"Hi," she said as Wonyoung opened the door. Truly an ending like the ones that happen in those rich lesbian fanfictions; they lived happily ever after together. 

Well, not without some bumps.

A few days later, Krystal went to the bathroom feeling very nauseating, with Wonyoung coming to the rescue for her unwell partner. 

"I think I'm pregnant," Krystal says.

[kjhbsies]

The Disaster Zone

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Roomate!Abby Anderson x reader

Synopsis: Living with the hottest girl wasn't that bad, right? Except that she was completely straight and has a boyfriend you hate.

wordcount: 7, 758

note: this fiction contains (internal) homophobia and comphet as Abby explores her sexuality. if you were uncomfortable with these kinds of stories, then maybe this isn't for you. please refrain from commenting on any hate comments. thank you and happy reading!

Sweat prickled from your forehead, trickling down your face, and across your neck and you almost yelled in frustration at the feeling of getting overstimulated over everything. You sighed irritatingly, trudging your way outside of the apartment you just viewed. 

One week before the class starts and you still haven’t got a place to live and stressful is such an understatement to say. No, it’s much more than that. You never thought that finding a decent place to stay for two semesters wasn’t hard but no — it was like searching for a needle in a haystack, and the needle was just a reasonably priced apartment with no angry roommates. 

You grumbled, laying your head on the couch of your bedroom. You pulled out your phone, scrolling through the listings of the apartments available, feeling the stress building with each rejected option. 

But to your luck, you stumbled upon someone’s ad. It was a nice, cozy place that was perfect in size for two people. Her name was Abby Anderson, her last name was quite familiar but you couldn’t pinpoint where you heard it. Her place looked promising enough, and the reason she was finding a roommate was that she couldn’t pay all the house bills by herself. Under that, there was a deadline — which was supposed to be today, so you mindlessly hit the ‘call’ button with no second thought.

“Hello?” Abby’s voice came through the other line, her voice was deep and businesslike.

“Hey, uh, I saw your ad for the apartment,” You replied while nibbling through your fingertips.

“Oh, great. Are you interested in visiting it?” She asked, her tone was still cool and detached.

“Yes, please, I need it so bad.” You bit your lips while nervousness came through.

“Alright. Let’s set up a time, then. Are you free this afternoon?”

“Yes.”

“Great. I’ll send you the address.” She said before hanging up quickly.

You stared at your phone for a minute, finding the interaction a bit… awkward. A sense of relief washed over you as the thought of finally finding a place to stay for the whole academic year was done, but something about Abby made you feel anxious. Her coldness scared you for a second — even if you just talked to her for a couple of minutes. 

But no, you promised yourself that this was the last time you’d reject a place because of a bad roommate. So you don’t have a choice but to go. 

Arriving at the address, you knocked at the door thrice. Seconds later, you saw the Abby Anderson. You gulped, taking in her features. She was tall, stoic, and… unimpressed. She was wearing a simple black shirt that perfectly hugged her toned body, making you gawk mentally. Her eyes bore into yours, looking at you from head to toe. Something inside Abby’s mind twitched as she did not expect how good you looked. But she immediately strayed away from that thought, minding no attention to it. 

“Thanks for coming. I apologize for my appearance — I just got off the gym.” She says in a neutral voice, opening the door wide open. “Come on in.” 

“It’s fine.” You said before stepping inside. 

The apartment was bigger than you expected — much bigger than the photos she uploaded. The furniture was complete and the choice of its design was very intricate and extravagant — you wondered if she bought it all with her money. Maybe she spent her money buying decorations which is why she couldn’t pay the house bills.

The huge windows perfectly let the sunlight in, casting a warm glow through the whole place. You admired how neat it was, and how everything was in place. Not even a small piece of trash in sight. As Abby showed you around, pointing out every amenities and quirks of this place, you couldn’t help but admire her silently. 

“So what do you think?” She looked back at you suddenly, making you snap out of a trance.

“Oh! Uh, yeah, I like it.” You shot her a smile. “This was much better than all of the places I’ve checked.”

Abby nodded, taking your answer without further comment or questions. You looked away, feeling nervous at the closeness between you two. With the whole three hours of you and her in just an enclosed space, Abby did not look at you. Something about your presence makes her uncomfortable and she did not know what that is. 

But then she looked at you for the second time, taking a couple of minutes to stare at your features without you knowing. Abby did not know why it was so hard for her to accept that you were pretty. No, you were something more than that. And she did not know what that was, or what was doing to her that was making her heart churn.

“Damn it,” Abby looked away and cursed under her breath.

You snapped your neck to stare at her. “What was that?” You asked.

“Nothing. It seems like you are interested. Are you open to discussing the other details?” She said, gesturing at the couch.

And just like that, the deal was done. 

And oh, that was one month ago. 

You and Abby are still living with each other. But all of your admiration for her was over.

She has a whole-ass boyfriend. 

And she’s straight as hell.

Now, you hate each other to the core. 

Turns out, Abby Anderson wasn’t renting because she was poor. Technically, at that time, she was. However, you found out that her family was crazy rich and could probably buy your entire bloodline. 

The reason that she was finding a roommate to share the apartment with was that her father limited her expenses in the meantime as Abby spent a huge sum of money in the casino while on a summer break, causing her dad to deduct some money from her allowance. 

Abby Anderson was the typically rich person you’d meet. She has a puppy she recently adopted one sunny day and she named Oreo — a St. Bernard. Ever since, there has been a new joy in the apartment, breaking the awkward tension between you and Abby that was lingering in the air. You learned how to love Oreo despite his unwavering energy.

Being an only child, Abby doesn’t have anyone to share things that her parents buy her, and developing a trait of being territorial over those she owns. However, seeing you play with her puppy, and how your face lit up every time Oreo cuddled with her, Abby could not put an end to your joy for whatever reason she couldn’t figure out. She just liked to think that she was just being a kind person and to not be an asshole for no apparent reason, and nothing else.

On the other side, you were grateful that Abby was letting you play with her dog. Because, truth be told, you were still getting tensed whenever she was around. And Oreo definitely warms up the place much more. 

You didn’t know that being roommates with Abby Anderson could make everything so complicated. She was the top student in class, always ranking high in their department, and was considered one of the top notchers in the university already. Her dad was a famous surgeon in the city and was respected by many, and Abby definitely wanted to prove that she could be like her father — or better. She only has two friends — Nora and Mel, whom you only saw in the hallways of your university alongside her. Abby was a mysterious person, and even though you were now living for a month with her, you did not know much about her. 

She wasn’t a talkative person, and you two never interacted with each other so much. You could definitely count the times she has spoken to you with your one finger. Her after school would be changing into gym clothes, making and eating a snack in the kitchen, and then leaving. She would go back at 7:00 PM and would go straight inside the bathroom and into her bed. 

But let’s talk about the real issue here.

Her boyfriend.

Owen was a gym rat guy who sported short brown hair, brown eyes, and a small mustache around his chin. Abby introduced you to him when she first invited him over, and you found out that he was much older than Abby. At first, you weren’t bothered by her presence since he seemed okay and not much of a harm. However, as Abby was inviting him over and over again, something inside you grew uncomfortable.

Maybe it was because whenever he was around, you’d often see him giving you dirty looks that sent shivers up your spine, or that he liked to fully make out with Abby in different spots in the apartment outside of Abby’s room, or that every time Owen and Abby were cuddling or doing sweet things with each other, you’d caught her staring at you from time to time. 

“Really?!” Dina exclaimed through the phone as you were narrating the last line to her. 

“I really do want to know why.” You grabbed a bag of chips before walking away from the kitchen.

“Maybe she likes you?” 

You stopped walking when you saw Abby and Owen cuddling in the living room, her head was placed on Owen’s shoulder as they both watched a silly movie. You sighed, “No, I think it’s actually the opposite of it.”

It was an exceptionally good day at Pinecrest University, one of the most prestigious schools in the U.S. which everyone dreamt of attending. From the picturesque sceneries of the landscapes where it was built, and to the educational qualities it provides, it was, in fact, no doubt one of the greatest universities in the world. 

Abby did not know whether or not she would be happy that she was given an opportunity to take after her father's steps — follow his path and become like what he is — a great surgeon. In the first year, she was giddy to study, with full of hope and dreams. Everyone recognizes her for being Jerry Anderson’s only daughter, praising her for being intelligent like he was. Abby was every professor’s favorite student as she possesses exceptional skills in everything. While it was good at first, Abby did not like the pressure weighing up on her shoulders as time passed by. Being someone who everyone expects to be good at everything all the time, makes her become careful of her actions as she becomes afraid of making mistakes. 

“What?” Leah snapped her neck in Abby’s direction.

“Nothing. Thought I heard something.” Abby shook her head.

“You know what I heard earlier?” Nora looked at Abby, eyes gleaming with mischief with a small smirk plastered on her face.

“What?” The blonde furrowed her brows before sitting on an empty spot at the library.

“Y/n Y/l/n. Your roommate.”

Leah’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped, “You’re roommates with her?” She exclaimed in a hushed tone.

The lines on Abby’s face deepened as she looked at her friends, not knowing what the fuss was about. “What about her?”

Nora was about to say something when, as if on cue, you started to walk behind her, trudging away from their table but not without a quick glance at Abby, who, to your surprise, was already staring at you with curiosity. 

You were not one to back down, so you held her gaze up until you sat beside Ellie who was finishing her homework that was due this afternoon. 

“Who was that?” Dina asked, looking back. 

“My roommate.” 

“Oh! The one who–” Dina started gesturing and muttering words that you could only understand. 

“What the fuck,” Ellie cursed loudly as she stared at you two with pure astonishment.

“She’s friends with Williams,” Abby uttered with a surprise.

“Yeah, everyone’s been suspecting that they’re more than that,” Nora said.

“Than what? They’re super best friends or something?” Abby folded her arms on her chest before taking a quick glance in your direction. She found you laughing along with your friends, but something inside her was stirring as she saw Ellie’s hands crawling at your torso, dangerously close to where your hips at.

Nora and Leah chuckled loudly. 

“What the fuck? Super best friends?” Leah looked at her with pure amusement. “Oh I forgot, you don’t get it–” She turned to Nora. “She doesn’t get it.” She says, pointing her thumb at the blonde.

“Okay, in straight girl terms, Ellie and Y/n might be a couple,” Nora explained.

“But Ellie’s a girl,” Abby says, confused. 

Nora and Leah exchanged glances. “You won’t ever get it, can you?” 

“What?” Abby’s eyes widened. “Wait– Is Y/n… gay?”

“You say that word as if it’s the most disgusting thing you’ve ever muttered.” Nora glared at her. “Yes, she’s gay, Abs. Apparently, she’s a great kisser, too.”

“I can’t believe she’s gay.” Abby sighed, something inside her was growing uncomfortable.

“Abby, that’s a mean thing to say.” Nora frowned. “What if she was? There’s nothing wrong with that.” 

“I know! But I mean, I don’t know, it’s confusing.” 

“It isn’t. Y/n likes a girl and that shouldn’t change the way you view her. It’s just a sexuality, she’s not gonna bite you.”

Abby stared in your direction, contemplating and thinking about everything. months of studying different kinds of textbooks every week couldn’t prepare her for the said subject. Sexuality was something that she was not well-informed about as the topic stirred something inside of her. Being raised in a conservative and religious family who has a well-known image to take care of made her realize that her world was much different than yours. 

After a long day of work in the laboratory, doing research on different chemicals, monitoring their progress, and waiting for the results, Abby felt like she was going to collapse right when she stepped foot onto the hotel’s lobby where your shared apartment was located. 

She sighed, forcing a fake smile to greet the receptionist. 

“Hey, Liam, did you see Owen come in?” She asked, leaning at the desk. 

“No, I don’t think so, Abby.” He says, offering an apologetic smile before attending to another elderly woman who is asking for something. 

Being with Owen at such a young age means that Abby had experienced everything that is there to experience whenever you are in a relationship with a shitty person. Sure, she wouldn’t admit that Owen was a bad boyfriend to her, but she knew that he wasn’t a good person either. 

Abby sighed before dragging her feet through the floors, growing very tired at each step. Now, if this was the first time that Owen had gone through the entire day without checking up on her, being with clubs with different girls dangling on both her arms, Abby would’ve been crying all her way to her room – just like what she did before. But being the person who became accustomed to this setup with her boyfriend, Abby could only grow numb, only feeling a faint sharp pain dragging through her heart, reminding her that she chose to be with him so she had to deal with it. 

Besides, no one ever wants Owen for her. 

Not her friends,

Not her dad,

And she won’t be surprised if you’ll tell her that you hate him, too.

“Where are you?” Abby hissed through the phone, feeling the rage consuming her as she listened to Owen stumble and slur through his words, finding great difficulty to even remember who was calling him. 

“Abby baby! I’m uh- sorry, I was at a—” Owen’s voice was getting drowned by the loud music, along with different voices from his friends and a couple of giggles from different girls in the background.

“Bullshit.” Abby cursed him before ending the call. She wanted to just quickly disappear right there and then, feeling like an absolute shit so many times.

“Hey,” You greeted, placing a gentle hand around her shoulder. 

Abby jolted, almost feeling like your touch was too hot for her skin. “Yeah? You scared me.”

“Oh! Sorry! Didn’t mean to do that,” You apologized profusely, “I thought you were sick.” You gestured to your face, and Abby mindlessly touched her forehead, feeling the cold sweat on the palms of her hand. 

She cursed under her breath. Now that you’ve pointed it out, Abby felt her vision swirling as her breathing got labored. Even if she couldn’t look at her face, she could assume that she was pale already. But instead of saying that she was indeed not okay, she dismissed your question by saying, “I’m perfectly fine.”

Abby tried to walk, but then she almost tripped with her fifth step. Before she could kiss the tiled floor, you caught her body, wrapping a delicate arm around her hip to help her stabilize her stance. 

“Quit being stubborn, okay?” You said, stopping her from even uttering a single protest when she opened her lips. You looked at her sternly, making her go silent. 

As much as Abby hated to be close to you at the moment, she couldn’t move. Not when her mind had shut down the moment your warm fingertips touched her waist, not when your face inched closer to hers, and not when your smell lingered around the air and started to consume Abby whole.

You did not know which force on the entire earth had given you the energy to drag Abby all the way to your shared apartment. To be fair, Abby’s body was toned and muscular, given the time that she was working at the gym, and not only you could feel her weight leaning upon your much smaller figure, but you were also touching her well-earned biceps and abs. 

“Okay, lean in there for a second and I’ll just open the door.” You commanded, carefully releasing your grip from Abby’s body as she leaned towards the cold wall while waiting for you to get your keys from the bag. Abby watched you silently with wandering eyes, feeling a sense of disappointment gushing through when you stopped touching her. 

“Shit.” Abby cursed loudly while screwing her eyes shut. 

“What?” You asked before lightly pushing the door, revealing a very excited Oreo who had been barking since he saw you. 

“N-nothing.” Abby stammered when you enveloped her in your hands once again. Her heart thrummed inside her chest, reaching the vibrations to her ears and all she could think about at that moment was your name.

Y/n.

“Abby?” You asked, placing her on the sofa carefully. Y/n. 

“Y/n.” 

“Is there something I could help you with?” You waved your hand in front of her eyes, making Abby snap out of the trance. She blinked rapidly, trying to focus her gaze on your eyes and your eyes only. But Abby found it so hard especially when your face were so much closer to her that she could feel your breath fanning over her lightly.

“What?” Abby asked. 

“You were calling my name.”

Shit.

“Am I?” 

“Look, just… lay there and make yourself comfortable, okay? I’m just going to cook for you.”

“Ah, there’s no need. I can order–” Abby opened her phone, face getting sour at seeing her wallpaper — Owen.

“This won’t take long. And I really am good at cooking so trust me.” You flashed her a sweet smile before rushing to the kitchen.

“For sure…” Abby whispers, watching how your skirt dances perfectly as you walk, hugging your curves. When she realized that she was staring at your ass, Abby shut her eyes tightly, pinching her nose bridge while telling herself to get a fucking grip. 

True to your words, you were a great cook. 

Abby found herself in a blanket-clad position as she sipped at the bowl slowly, not wanting to make it seem that she was so eager to taste the soup. Which, in her opinion, was probably the best one she had ever taken. She was almost thankful that you insisted on cooking for her, instead of buying a delivery from a fast food chain — something that she has always done whenever she was sick.

“Are you feeling better?” You asked, sitting at the loveseat in front of her while brushing Oreo’s fur with your fingers. The dog wags his tail joyfully, making Abby smile. 

“Yes. Thank you.” She sighed. “I think I’m just over-fatigue.” 

“You should probably rest. Ditch the school works, it’s Friday.” 

“I know, I will.” Abby nods.

“Good.” You stood up. “I’ll clean up for a bit. Call my name if you need something.”

“Sure.” Abby put on a tight-lipped smile. You nod before making your way to your bedroom. “I enjoyed it.”

“What?” You turned around, looking at her. 

“The soup. It was the best.” Abby bit the inside of her cheek, feeling her face heating up. 

You smiled widely, heart swelling with pride and joy as you heard her compliment, “Thanks.” You said before entering your own bed, gently closing the door before you almost squeak in pure bliss. 

But that was short-lived as you realized that she’s Abby Anderson. 

And she’s way out of your league.

After lounging in her bedroom for a day while ignoring everyone’s texts and calls, Abby had never felt much alive.

Maybe it was due to the fact that she got enough sleep and rest, not seeing Owen, or maybe because of you. As much as Abby still never felt comfortable enough with your presence near her, she was thankful for being roommates with you. 

It is true that you two weren’t friends, to begin with. Abby could count on her fingers how many times she talked to you ever since you moved into the apartment. There’s not to say that she wasn’t fond of you, truth be told is — you make her think of so many things that she couldn’t name, or make her feel something she never knew what that is. 

However, as much as Abby wanted to go back to ignoring you while she was finally okay, she couldn’t help but feel grateful for helping her when she was sick. So, she decided to ask you out — and it’s just a friendly date just to repay your kindness.

Rays of sunlight pierced through the large windows of your apartment, perfectly illuminating your figure as you stood in front of the full-length mirror and examined your face. As Abby was descending down the stairs, she couldn’t help but stare at your back, trailing her gaze from the ribbons on your hair to the soft plush of your thighs. She immediately looked away, feeling a small sweat prickling down her forehead which she quickly wiped, not wanting to appear nervous or such.

Abby cleared her throat, making you look at her. 

“You’re going somewhere?” She asked silently, busying herself with removing dog furs from her shirt. 

“Yeah, uh, just going to visit this newly opened cafe. My friend says it’s good.”

Abby nodded, looking away. She tried to guess who that friend was. Was it the curly-haired girl you were talking to in the library? Or the tattooed one named Ellie? 

“Are you going with someone?”

“Just me.” You smiled. “Wanna come?”

“Yeah, I would love to.” 

Abby has never gone on a date with someone else other than Owen, Leah, Nora, and her father. So being alone with you ignited something within her.

You were sitting across from her, giving her a perfect view of your face. She probably looked at you many times that she couldn’t keep track of her fingers and it scared if you’d think that she was creepy as hell. It’s just that she couldn’t look away, or divert her attention to some other things when a gorgeous girl was in front of her. 

You were chatty, telling her some stories from your first year in the University that Abby found so adorable that she couldn’t stop herself from eliciting a small smile on her lips. You liked to joke around, giving some playful banters that Abby found witty. She never thought that talking to you was the best thing she’d ever experienced. She admired how you were so smiley, radiating light and hopeful vibes, infecting her in the meantime, breaking her out of the cold and dark shell she was caged in. 

It was fun. 

So, so fun.

And she doesn’t know why your company scares her.

“Come on, babe, I’ll do everything you want,” Ellie whined through the phone and your eyes almost rolled off at the back of your head at her dramatic ass. 

“Figure it out on your own, Ellie.” 

“I’m gonna fail!” She says, shuffling across her room.

“You should’ve thought about that before skipping your classes.”

“Come on,” Ellie answers.

“Why are you so annoying?”

“You love me.” You can imagine Ellie’s smirk. “I’m bringing snacks.” 

“You should be.” You rolled your eyes once again before hanging up the phone. 

It was 8:00 in the evening, and you were already in your pajama-clad state as you made your way to the dining room with your laptop clutched around your chest. The whole apartment was dimly lit, with only the warm lampshades as the source of light. Oreo was already sleeping on his bed, filling the silence in the air and comforting you. 

Abby was nowhere to be found ever since you got in here after school. You waited for her to appear, eating whatever she made in the kitchen which was usually at 7:00 PM, or to make her way to the bathroom, putting on an obnoxiously loud song that you could practically hear from across the room. But she wasn’t here. 

You two aren’t exactly friends. For sure, you two got closer when she was sick, but after the date you two had, Abby was back again into ignoring your presence. You did not know what to feel because you thought you were on to a good start now. Truth be told, you wanted to get to know her even more but it seems like she doesn’t really want to. 

She was a mysterious woman. You always hear things about her at school. They all say that she was a smart person, always on top of the class. Everyone adored Abby, and you couldn’t blame them for that. You liked her, too, even though she was like that. 

Three consecutive knocks on the door put you out of a trance, lightly making you flinch. You screwed your eyes shut before standing up. Of course, it’s Ellie.

She smiled widely, flashing you a toothy grin before lifting the paper bags in both of her hands. You opened the door, letting her in at the apartment.

“Jesus, where’s all the lights? I can’t see shit.” Ellie whispered. 

“Don’t be too loud,” You nudged her. “You’ll wake up the dog.” You flicked the switch, opening the big lights just like Ellie liked, revealing the well-decorated apartment. Ellie seemed to be in awe, scanning the whole house. To be fair, it really was pleasing in the eye so you can’t blame her. If there’s one thing you and Abby could agree on, it is the interior design of the place. It was a Mediterranean revival style, taking upon the beautiful Spanish architecture that you both loved. It was a very lovely house, something you didn’t expect to live in. 

“Dude your apartment was great!” Ellie complimented, sitting down beside you. She opened her laptop before gathering pieces of paper in her bag. 

“Yeah, well, thanks to my roommate.” You shrugged, grabbing a piece of fries that Ellie brought. 

You two got working afterward, not wasting any time. You did not want to stay up too late, and on the contrary, Ellie did not want to sleep. She says she has to go to the club at 10:00 PM, hence, she was listening to your instructions carefully, nodding at every word you say, and working seriously. To be honest, Ellie was a smart person. She was just distracted by too many things — girls, clubs, and her guitar which made her have a hard time managing her time. Which was why she was always late in class, sometimes even skipping them unintentionally. It was the reason why her guardian, Joel, kept scolding her. 

“You were smart, you know. You just don’t know how to properly execute it.” You said to her as you were cleaning up the mess at the kitchen table.

Ellie smirked while putting her bag on. “I’ll see myself out.” She says, ignoring your compliment. 

You nodded, opening the door quietly. “Take care, El.” 

“Thank you so much for helping me.” She says, grinning at you while pinching your cheek. You winced at her touch, immediately swatting her hand. Before you could slap her shoulder, Ellie was running through the elevator while giggling. “Bye!” You hear her say. 

You laughed, shaking your head at how childish she was. As you were about to lock the doors, Abby’s tall figure appeared in front of you, making you flinch in shock. 

“What the hell?” You cursed, placing your hand on your loud beating heart. “Where did you come from?” 

Abby’s brows furrowed deeply as she scanned your face, and back to the elevator. “Who was that?” She asked, walking past you. You can sense her irritation as she sits on the couch, removing her pair of loafers. 

“It’s… Ellie—”

“Your girlfriend?” Abby looked at you with a stoic face. 

“What? No—”

“Well then, why she was here? What could you two be possibly doing late at night?” 

“Woah, woah,” You raised your hands in surrender before walking in front of Abby. “Where was this coming from? Me and Ellie were just friends, and we’re not doing anything you’re thinking.” 

“And how could I believe that?” Abby stood up, towering over you. 

“And if we really were doing whatever you think we were, then it’s none of your fucking business, Abby.” 

“It is my business because you are living with me. It is one thing to share a house with a woman who– who likes girls—”

“You can say lesbian. It wouldn’t burn your tongue.” You stopped her, feeling an internal rage boiling into your skin. You were clenching your jaw hard, stopping the urge to punch this woman in front of you. 

“Then keep that to yourself. I am not uncomfortable with you doing that.” 

Your brows furrowed. “Doing what? Being myself?” 

The living room suddenly feels deafening as the silence consumes you two. Abby looked away, arms crossed as her eyes were fixed on the floor. You sighed, shoulders going slump before looking outside the window. Tears started brimming at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill at any second.

“Abby you know I didn’t choose this. It’s who I am,” You say, voice trembling slightly as you gulp, silently wishing that the lump in your throat goes away. “Just like what you are. You did not choose to be straight, and I never got mad at you for that, didn’t I? No matter how uncomfortable it is to find you and your weird boyfriend doing unspeakable things every single week.” You looked and glared at her.

“What? Why are you turning this on me?” Abby’s voice boomed, face going red as anger silently consumed her. 

“If you say something about my sexuality, it’s fine? But when I say it back to yours then you’re getting mad? For a very intelligent person, you’re such a fucking closed-minded, Anderson!” You yelled, storming through your room and slamming the door with a loud thud, making the dog wake up in its sleeping state. 

Abby stood there for a long moment, staring at your closed door, the weight of her words settling in. She immediately wanted to knock on your door and take it all back. But she knew she couldn’t. The silence that followed her was deafening, a painful reminder of the distance that stretched before you two. 

The cafeteria buzzed with the usual lunchtime chatter, but at your table, the mood was tense. Dina almost spat the food she was eating as she looked at you with pure shock in her eyes as you recounted your fight with Abby last night.

“She seriously said that?” She exclaimed, fuming, as she stabbed her food with a fork. “I cannot believe she reacted like that.”

You shrugged, feeling dejected as you played with your food with a spoon, not feeling an ounce of hunger. “I know, I thought she’d understand – I mean, she should be, right? She’s smart.” 

“Not smart enough for that kind of talk.” Dina sighed. “Seriously, I cannot believe it. It’s unfair to you, and you shouldn’t deserve to live with that kind of person. Who knows what she might do to you.” 

“You’re right. I’m going to start to hunt for another place after the midterms. I just can’t fit in my schedule right now as loads of paperwork start coming and coming in.” You shut your eyes tightly while combing your hair in frustration. “I just thought we were starting to be friends, you know?”

Dina smiled at you sadly before rubbing your back. At that moment, Ellie walked in with a huge grin on her face. She spotted you and Dina at the table and she immediately started walking towards it, but not before playfully bumping and greeting all of the people she knew. She slid beside you before sitting on the empty chair next to you. 

“Thanks for helping me with my homework. I got an A.” She threw playful punches in the air. 

Dina slapped her. “Shut it.” She says before taking a glance at you. 

You smiled at Ellie, the one where it doesn’t meet your eyes. “No worries.”

Ellie frowned, her smile immediately faded as she took in your expression. “What’s wrong? You seem upset.” You sighed, feeling the weight of yesterday’s event pressing down on you again. “It’s Abby. We had a huge fight. She started accusing us of doing things at the apartment and she doesn’t seem to like that I was gay.”

Ellie’s eyes widened in anger. “That’s fucking bullshit! Out of all people, I thought she’d understand that.”

“What do you mean?” Dina asked.

“I mean, is she not gay?” 

“Uhm… no. She has a boyfriend.” 

“Well, this is now confusing.” Ellie looked at you with disbelief while leaning back in the chair. “I thought she was one of us!”

“Everyone else does. I mean, I do, too, when I first saw her.” You said, shrugging. 

“That’s fucking ironic, then.” Ellie sighed. “But she fucking needs to grow up and get over herself.”

“Exactly. Our apartment is always open whenever you need it, okay?” Dina squeezed your hand. 

You nodded, feeling a warmth gushing through your veins. You are thankful for your friends as they can ease your problems effectively. Abby’s words pierced right through your heart, but being with Ellie and Dina made it easier to bear. 

Abby sat at one of the reserved seats for her at the rooftop of a fancy restaurant that her dad picked for them to have a meal after having time for a small break in his work. Wanting to reconcile and check in with his only daughter, he arranged this small meeting with her. 

The place was elegant, with warm lighting from the big chandeliers illuminating the whole area. At the distance was a small band playing jazz music, and the gentle clicks of the silverware created a sophisticated aura. Abby sat across from her father, trying to focus on her meal. Jerry kept stealing glances at her daughter as he cut into his steak, trying to decipher what was wrong. 

“Was the food not good?” He asked suddenly after a moment of silence consuming the two. 

Abby’s gaze immediately flicked to meet his eyes. Her brows raised in confusion, trying to recall what her father said. “What? Uh… no.” Abby shook her head before sipping into her drink. 

Jerry shrugged. “Just that you seemed tensed.”

“I’m not,” Abby responds. “The place is great.”

He hummed, nodding at what her daughter said. “So, how’s life in the apartment?” He asked, his tone casual but probing. 

“It’s fine. You know, the usual. I was able to pay for all of my bills, since, well, I got a roommate.” 

“And how was she?” He raised a brow. “What was her name, again?”

Abby said your name as she was pushing off her unfinished meal. She sighed, dabbing her lips with the handkerchief. “It’s fine… just a bit tense between us.”

Jerry looked at her with narrow eyes. “It’s fine but tense? What does that mean?”

Abby hesitated, not wanting to answer the question fully. She never knew what her dad would say if he found out that her roommate was gay. Besides, they never talked about that kind of stuff. All that she knew right now, was that she doesn’t want to tell anyone about your personal information.

“Personal stuff came up. I-it’s complicated and I don’t want to talk about it now.”

He sets his fork down, leaning back in his chair. “Personal stuff? Abby, if there’s a problem, you should fix it right away. You can’t just ignore it.”

“I know, Dad.” She answered; frustrations creeping up her voice as what happened that night started replaying in her mind. “It’s not that simple. But I don’t want her out of the apartment or anything… we’ll figure this out on our own.”

He studied her for a minute before nodding slowly, not wanting to press more on that matter. “Alright, but don’t let it become worse. Things like these can get ugly the more you avoid it.”

Abby exhaled a relieved sigh. “I know. I’ll handle it.”

There was a brief, uncomfortable silence before her father cleared his throat and changed the subject. “And what about Owen? How’s he doing?”

Abby’s face softened at the mention of his boyfriend — wait, she wasn’t even sure if she could still call him that, knowing what happened. She ignored his calls for days, not wanting to be in his presence to get a lot of time thinking about things. Abby thought it’d be best if she could calm down first, set aside her emotions, and be rational for once. She sighed heavily, keeping in her mind to talk to him once her father dropped her off after dinner. 

“He's good. Busy with work, as usual, which was why we don’t see each other as often.” She lied, not wanting her father to pry on their relationship. You knew he was skeptical of him since the very beginning. He liked to say that Owen was up to no good and that he was just an older man who didn’t think about his future. As much as Abby tried to argue with him at first, Jerry already formed opinions about him — one that Abby couldn’t alter. But deep inside, she knew he was right. She just doesn’t want to admit it yet.

“I really hope he’s taking good care of you.” He says, eyeing her once again with glaring eyes. “If I ever got the news that he was being a bad influence on you, I’m going to cut all of your cards.” Jerry threatened her. 

Oh, right, Owen was the one who insisted on gambling that night, making Abby almost lose all of her savings in her bank account. He also taught her to drink, smoke, and go into different kinds of clubs. You bet how mad Jerry was when he found out everything about it. 

Abby only offered a tight-lipped smile, trying to change the subject to lighter topics. Throughout the whole dinner, Abby’s mind was always shifting into your unresolved fight as guilt starts to consume her whole. She knew her father’s advice was great, but she couldn’t bear to do it. Besides, it was easier said than done. For now, she decided to enjoy the meal in front of her, pushing away her worries at the back of her mind. 

That night, Jerry decided to drop his daughter off before going into his office. She sat in the backseat of his car, staring out the window as the city lights they passed were blurred by with the speed of the vehicle. Abby tried to maintain her composure, as she tried calling Owen’s phone for the nth time but he wasn’t answering. Each unanswered notification on the screen made her anxiety slowly skyrocket. 

When they finally reached their destination, the car came to a stop. Abby immediately opened the car door. 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to wait for you?” Her father asked as he pulled up in front of Owen’s apartment.

Abby shook her head, “It’s fine, Dad.” 

“Alright. Give me a call if you need anything.” 

“I will,” She assured. “Take care.” 

With that, Jerry nodded before uttering a small ‘good night’ to his daughter. Abby followed the car's gaze before deciding to head to Owen’s apartment with a heavy sigh.

Abby hated this feeling. 

For someone who has been cheated on by the same guy, she did not know why she couldn’t turn numb. She hated the confrontation between her and Owen because she knew that it didn’t always end well. However, she did not know why she couldn’t just walk away from this relationship forever. It was like there’s some force between her that keeps on tangling herself with Owen — no matter how shitty he was. Abby hated how her father’s words, along with her friend’s advice kept on replaying in her mind right now. It made her feel like she was the dumbest person in the whole world. 

“For a very intelligent person, you’re such a fucking closed-minded, Anderson!”

Your words rang in her ears repeatedly. 

“Fuck it.” Abby cursed, trying to shake those thoughts before knocking on Owen’s door. She stood there for a couple of minutes before speaking once again. “I’m coming inside.” She notified him before fishing out his apartment’s key in her bag. 

As Abby came inside, she noticed how the room was romantically lit up — where different pieces of scented candles and dimly lit lanterns were on, casting off a warm glow throughout the room. An unfamiliar woman’s perfume filled her nose, breaking her heart little by little as she strode through his room. 

Abby pushed Owen’s bedroom door, revealing him with another woman in his bed.

“Owen?” She asked, voice tensed. 

He scrambled to sit up, a mix of shock and fear written through his face. “Abby… I — I can explain.” He immediately grabbed his boxers, putting it in just a couple of seconds. 

“Leave,” Abby commanded the girl who quickly complied. She grabbed her clothes before running past Abby, a pure horrified look was written on her face as she left the bedroom.

“I was checking in if you were still alive. And right now, I wish you were dead.” Abby’s jaw clenched. 

“You don’t mean that,” Owen huffed, trying to grab Abby’s hand but she quickly moved away from his touch. He shrank, feeling dejected. 

“How many times do you have to do this, Owen?” Abby snapped, tears brimming on the corners of her eyes. “What was something I don’t have for you to crave on another woman’s body?” 

“It’s a mistake. I wasn’t thinking straight.”

Abby sniffed, nodding at his words sarcastically. “Yeah, we’re done. It’s all done forever.” Abby started walking, but Owen was tailing her from behind.

“What? What do you mean?” He asked, completely alarmed.

“I can’t keep wasting my time with you. I should’ve done this a long time ago.”

“You can’t possibly mean that.” His voice boomed, making the blonde face him with bloodshot eyes. 

“I fucking do! I am so tired of putting up with your shit. Don’t ever come near me, alright? I am so disgusted at you.” She says before storming outside. 

Owen tried calling her name, and a feeling of sudden fear washed inside of him. Of all the times you two broke up about this, he hadn’t seen Abby so mad that she fully said that they were finally done because he knew that she couldn’t bear to part ways with him for good. This was the reason why he was so confident to do those. But right now, she sounded determined, and Owen knew that it wasn’t good. 

Abby’s thoughts were spiraling by the time she got back to the apartment. A mix of emotions started forming in her mind, making her heart clench as she stumbled inside. Tears started streaming down her face, making her barely notice that you were fully wide awake while staring at her in the kitchen with a curious stare. 

“Are you okay?” You asked, breaking the silence. 

Abby’s gaze flicked to your face, down to the food that you were cooking. Pasta. It was midnight and you were cooking pasta. 

“W-what?” She asked, trying to focus, but her stomach started grumbling as the aroma of the food filled her nose. “I’m fine.” 

You nodded, biting your tongue to ask further questions at her. 

 “What’s that?” Abby asked, making her way to the kitchen.

Your brows rose as you took a good look at her face. She looked like… a mess. And that’s not like her. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” 

Abby sighed heavily before shaking her head. “We broke up.” 

“Oh…” 

A short silence filled the air as Abby watched you put two plates on the island, filling it with the pasta you’d made. You pushed one in front of her, and Abby looked at you with wide eyes. “For me?”

“I know we’re not on good terms right now. But I don’t want you to sleep like that. Why don’t we eat past and watch movies in the living room? I can sit across from you in case you are uncomfortable and we don’t have to talk with each other.”

“I won’t be uncomfortable…” Abby said in a small voice while looking at the food. 

Your brows rose at her comment. You hummed, not buying her words. “Okay.” 

“I’m sorry for what I’ve said before. It’s not right.” 

You scanned her face, “I don’t know about that.”

“I want to make it up to you.” 

“How?” 

taglist: @gaptoothedlesbo @st4r-b3rries @ofalcaodacolinablue @sleepydrr @yurixxiii @seraphicsentences @bambishaven @k1ngpin42 @buglikean-angel @eringranola @sennagf

[timeflow]

good evening reddit users, welcome to the website. not seen one of these that tells you how to make this website bearable so here goes

starting off with dashboard settings you want to turn off endless scrolling (it slows down the website after a while of scrolling), turn off shorten long posts because one of the main things about this website is the total lack of a character limit (as an alternative to this setting, you can press j to skip to the next post on the dashboard if the current one is kind of long). turning on timestamps is convenient because it allows you to check when a post was made (don't get me wrong: this website absolutely LOVES reblogging old posts, but there are times when it's worth checking if a post has very old news in it)

turn off best stuff first right away. one of the main reasons cited for joining tumblr is because "there is no algorithm". this is not entirely true, we have one but we routinely turn off anything algorithmic that staff adds. turning off best stuff first means your dashboard will be reverse chronological no matter what, and turning off based on your likes and stuff in your orbit will get rid of the rest of the algorithmically-recommended content that appears on your dashboard

following tags is nice because you will occasionally see posts with tags you follow sprinkled into your dashboard. this is considered good because it's almost always recent, I personally recommend turning on include followed tag posts and just following a bunch of random tags that you think could be interesting (characters, media, topics, whatever)

this one's a more personal thing but I would absolutely turn off any community labels because tumblr staff has recently been just putting a bunch of random posts under this despite being entirely sfw. if you ACTUALLY want to filter content, then go to filtered tags:

unlike the community labels which are put arbitrarily by staff, tags are put on by the actual users and so you can MUCH more reliably filter out content you don't want to see by putting filtered tags. this also works for any kind of content unlike the community labels, meaning you can just filter out stuff that you don't want to see (a particular character, a particular piece of media, a certain topic, anything you want really)

turn on custom theme immediately. the standard view of tumblr.com/url will give people who are not logged in a forced login wall, meanwhile url.tumblr.com will not. by doing this you also get access to your post archive at url.tumblr.com/archive, which lets you look through your posts more easily (the search function is awful). the main benefit of this, however, is that you get to have a custom look to your blog: going to edit theme brings up a menu that allows you to customize your css, add pages to your tumblr blog, etc. all very useful stuff

it's also worth taking the time to consider whether or not you leave your liked posts and list of blogs you follow public (most people have likes turned off, following is also commonly turned off but I personally don't care about others seeing who I follow)

turn off the let people blaze your posts. blaze basically allows you to pay money to show a post to a random group of people by paying money, suffices to say that allowing others to blaze your posts without your consent will inevitably lead to one of your personal posts getting blazed by some prick and now hundreds of people have seen it

asks are one of the main ways of interacting with blogs so absolutely turn them on. whether you allow anons is your choice, anonymity allows people to say nice things without feeling embarrassed about how everyone knows who said that, but it also allows people to send hateful stuff with no consequence.

submissions are like whatever. I personally leave them on but in my 5 years of having this blog I've been submitted to twice.

to close off this post I'll leave my personal thoughts on reblog etiquette:

reblogging is great. reblog the fuck out of anything. does the post amuse you slightly? reblog it. go wild

that being said please don't put anything in your reblogs unless it's like a really important comment. your comment will be immortalized forever if someone reblogs the post from you and on popular posts I have to constantly go back a couple years to get rid of an annoying comment like "LOL THIS IS SO FUNNY" because that person didn't realize that their addition was wholly unnecessary

if you DO want to add something to say your thoughts on the post in a quiet voice that doesn't get permanently added onto the original, consider talking in the tags of your reblog. this is considered nicer since when the post is reblogged from you your tags are not going to stick around. there is also this process known as "peer review" in which if your tags are sufficiently funny one of your followers (or sometimes a random person browsing the notes of the post) will screenshot/copy and paste your tags into a reblog, which is a much more natural way of having your comment added into the post

tags are also nice to use or organizational purposes. clicking on a post with a certain tag on your blog will show you every post with that tag on your blog allowing you to find posts later, alternatively you can go to url.tumblr.com/archive/tagged/[insert tag here] to a similar effect.

that's all I have to say on this subject. have fun on our glorious website

edit: oh yeah also unfollow staff. it will make you look normal 👍

[e-m-ma-lmfao]

PLS YOU NEED TO WRITE MORE FICS ABOUT ASTARION the one you did was so good and cute ☹️☹️ i love it

Let Me Clean Your Wounds

pairing : astarion x (fem) reader

summary : a long week of hard work leaves your party tired and injured. you offer to clean astarions and to your surprise, he accepts.

warnings : talk about blood.

a/n : thank you anon :0 i STILL have not played baldurs gate (so i apologize again for my lack of knowledge).

It had been an incredibly long week. 

It started by someone in the party pointing out that you had no more money left. So you had to spend your days doing odd jobs for people in the nearby town. 

However, a few of them had failed to mention the fact that their job requests could end up harming you in more ways than one. An easy job, like gathering fruit for an old lady who can’t venture out that far anymore, suddenly turned into fighting a hag in the woods for trespassing on her property. 

The compensation received was hardly enough for the injuries you and your party would gather on your bodies throughout the day. 

As powerful as your group was, being caught off guard by some giant creature in the woods left you at a disadvantage. And when calmly mentioned to the people of the village, suggesting that their pay be higher for sending you to do such strenuous tasks so they wouldn’t be attacked themselves, they threw their arms up to you. 

Calling you greedy and saying you were trying to steal their gold. Of course that didn’t sit well with the nearby guards, and while jumping to conclusions without any investigation, you were thrown in a cell. Not all your party, just you, as the leader. 

You weren’t released until a member of your party persuaded them, using the gold you had just earned from the townspeople’s ridiculous jobs. 

So you packed up your camp, and ventured out to find another village. One where you hadn’t been put behind bars for scheming and trying to steal gold from the elderly. 

When you found a nice spot, and a town that looked to have more than enough gold to go around, you set up camp in the nearby woods. The townspeople were less than friendly, but at least they were honest about their jobs. 

They made it abundantly clear that they would not be handing out charity and that you had to work for the gold you earned. That turned out to be a challenge after a few jobs had been completed , and it had clicked that your party has been consistently acquiring injuries over the last few days. 

Your party was down in power. You were lacking in energy, and it was showing in the way your attacks would fly but often miss or hit with not much force behind them. 

So after completing one last job, and buying some fresh meat from the town, you decided to rest. Finally caving into the exhaustion, you felt almost weak when Lae’zel complained about stopping. But nobody else seemed to have any complaints. 

Lae’zel was hasty to eat, along with almost everybody else in the party. They got a fire started and the warmth hugged your body, but while scanning over everyone’s face you realized just how rough your condition had become . 

Everyone seemed to be holding up all right, you weren’t too worried, but as you looked in closer you noticed Astarion was seated farther away from the fire picking at his skin. 

Curious, you left the warmth of the fire and wandered over to him. 

“Mind if I sit?” 

“No, well, not much. But I don’t think you’d listen if I said I did.” You shook your head at him before taking a seat beside him. 

His face was pretty bruised up, cuts on his cheek and lip. And his arms were covered with scratches that it was continuing to pick at. 

You took another glance before standing up and walking back over to your own tent to grab some bandages, your flask of water, and a rag of some sort to wipe his wounds. When you came back he stared at you with amusement in his eyes. 

“What exactly are you planning to do with all that, darling?” 

“You're covered in cuts, have to clean them up so they don’t scar your pretty face. Let me clean your wounds?” You tried not to let the pet name have any effect over you, but you were sure your thoughts were showing through your cheeks. His hand moved to touch his cheek, as if he didn’t believe that he truly did have any injuries, wincing as his finger brushed against a larger cut. 

“You’re seriously worried about me when you’re in the same condition? For the love of the gods , you were thrown in a cell this week and you're truly worried about some cuts on my cheeks?”

“May I?” You held the rag up in your hands, pouring some water over it. He nodded, hesitantly of course, but he allowed it anyway. 

Gently, you placed the dampened rag over his cuts, wiping away at the dried blood and layer of dirt covering his pale skin. His brows furrowed, the sight causing you to let out a giggle. Usually, Astarion was very closed off, so being this close to him and him allowing you to help him was sort of new to you. 

“Why are you laughing? I’m in pain and your ..giggling?” He tried to be stern and serious, his usual facade, but a small smile was playing at the corner of his lip.  

“I’m sorry,” You let out another giggle as you swiped away at his skin and his eyebrows furrowed once more, “It’s just cute, I’ve never seen your face scrunch up like that.”

He seemed to pause, his mouth slightly agape as he stared at you. You were being serious. You thought he was cute, when he was covered in blood and dirt. Him showing a little weakness , you thought it was cute? 

“What? I know my face is probably dirty.” You rubbed at your cheek with your free hand, conscious of your appearance as his gaze lingered on your face. He didn’t care though, he was too busy thinking about your words. 

“Cute is an absurd word to use when describing someone like me. I’m too handsome to be described in such ..simple terms.” His smirk returned to his face, your mouth now agape unsure of whether he was serious or not. 

“C’mon now Astarion, I never said you weren’t handsome. I just said you were cute with your face all scrunched up like that.” The rag sat in your lap, his face was clean, his cuts just needed a little cover up. 

“So you do think I’m handsome?” He leaned in closer , his voice captivating. 

“Well I never said that either.” You placed your hand on his chest to distance yourself , ripping off a piece of the bandaging in your hands and manipulating it into place on his cheek. 

He wore a subtle pout on his lips but when you moved in close and kissed his cheek, in a moment of boldness,  it soon fell away. 

Astarion’s hands brushed against your own, taking the damp rag and pouring more water onto the other unused end. 

“My turn, darling.” The rag, making contact with your skin, made goosebumps appear on your skin. It was colder than you expected, and you knew there had to be small cuts littering your face by the way it stung. Your face must have tensed because he took his turn to laugh at you. 

“You know, you are very beautiful, even with your face all scrunched up.” He was mocking you. obviously, but his voice mixed with his compliments made your cheeks flush. 

A final swipe along your cheek and he pulls the rag away, “There. All clean, my dear.” 

His hand reached out to cup your cheek, but before the act became too intimate, he changed his course and ran his hand along the side of your hair to flatten it down. 

“You really are quite pretty .” He knew his words had such a serious effect on you, as you never tried to hide the fact that your feelings for him were far from platonic interest. It was so weird seeing him be so friendly, and flirty in a way that wasn’t meant to manipulate.

“Would you stop? It’s not nice to tease y'know.” 

“And who told you I was teasing, my dear? Was it Lae’zel cause I’ve always thought she might have a thing for me.” He laughed at the end of his sentence, joking. “I would never tease a woman as pretty as you, that would be very cruel of me.” 

“Do you want to join me by the fire?” His gaze shifted to look at the group seated around the fire, he seemed to ponder before looking back at you with furrowed brows. 

“I can smell their horrible odor from here.” You huffed, pushing his shoulder. He looked once more, and seemed to ponder some more but his face was hard enough to read when he wasn’t looking away from you. 

Astarion groaned, ringing out the wet rag still sitting in his hands. “That is not an answer, Astarion. I’m cold, and the fire looks so nice.”

“Fine, if we must, we can go,” You smiled down at him as you stood but it was replaced with a look of shock when he pulled you to sit back down, “On one simple condition.” 

You rolled your eyes, “What could you possibly want from me?” 

He stayed silent for a second, but as he noticed you becoming increasingly impatient he began to speak.

“A kiss. Not a petty one, and not on my cheek. I mean a real one.” You were flush in the face once more. He seemed totally serious, a permanent smirk painted on his face, but his eyes stared into your own without any sign of humor. You honestly thought he might be mocking you. 

“Okay. I can do that. Easy, but only if you’re nice and say please.” 

“Now who’s teasing.” You only stared at him, sternly. If he wanted to act like a child, and demand rewards in order to complete simple tasks, then you could tease him like one. “Fine. Please…pretty please.”

Your eyes widened, you didn’t think you had ever heard him say please to anyone, let alone add in a “pretty”.

 He didn’t move, he was entirely dead set on this. His face was close enough to yours that you didn’t have to shuffle very far. As gently as you could, in case he decided that he was joking and pulled away, you placed your hands on his face.

One hand cupping his cheek, fingertips rubbing at the hairs falling delicately in front of his ears, the other near the bottom of his cheek and holding onto his jaw. Slowly, you pulled him in until your lips met his. You still weren’t entirely convinced that he was serious, but when his fingers entangled in your hair and pulled you in deeper, you had a hunch that he might not be joking. 

He didn’t let you pull away until he was entirely satisfied. Your breath was heavy, and your skin was hotter than before in multiple ways. 

“I haven’t had a meaningful one in a long time, darling. Thank you.”

“Should we go sit by the fire?” You stood up, legs wavering before stiffening, and you offered him out your hand. He took it in his large one, following you to the fire, sitting beside you. There was a heavy silence, causing you to look around and see everybody's eyes already on you. 

“What?”

“If you guys are gonna keep sucking each other's faces, could you please do it in a tent? You made me lose my appetite.”

[houseofanticipation]

It's impossible to count the number of times you've imagined this moment. Late at night, under the covers; in the bathtub, and the shower; on slow days at the bookstore, the summer before senior year; during Mr. Madrigal's long, droning lectures. You fantasized so vividly you could see each scene on the back of your eyelids, hear each sound between breaths. Many a time your hand migrated southward, almost of its own volition. If you were in public, you'd hold it against your crotch, pressing it into yourself with the force of your clenched thighs. In private, you'd be far less subtle.

In all those fantasies, you never imagined it would look quite like this.

The hallway smells like cigarettes and industrial cleaner. The haphazardly patterned carpet is coming up at the edges. The yellow tube light overhead might be attempting morse code, the way it flickers. Paint peels from the door in front of you, and one of the metal digits in the room number has been replaced with one that doesn't quite match: room 233. You raise your hand, your knuckles inches from the door, and then you pause. You're not sure if you can go through with this.

Before you can decide, the door opens anyway.

You started posting pictures in your first year of college. It was just your tits at first. You'd been quietly following those subreddits and tumblr blogs for a while, and you thought it would be a bit of fun, a little thrill. You didn't expect the response you got: dozens of people telling you how much they'd enjoyed it, asking for more. So you posted more, and the people asked for different things. Post your ass. Post your cunt. Post your fingers in your cunt. Post audio of you moaning as you came. The more you revealed of yourself, the more attention you got, and the more attention you got, the more you wanted to show. People wanted to send you tips, so you set up a Cash App address. You never got much, a few dollars here and there, but it was nice to get a free coffee now and then.

And somewhere along the way, apparently, you let slip that you were a virgin.

The message came late last semester, from a Cash App user whose name was just a string of numbers. It read, "I will buy your virginity for $100,000. So you know I'm serious, here is $7000 for you to keep, deal or no deal. Let me know if interested."

It was like one of those hypotheticals you talk about with your friends at the dinner table. Would you work nonstop for a year if it meant you never had to work again? Would you cut off your hand if it meant you never had to die? Would you let a stranger from the internet take your virginity for a hundred thousand dollars? You thought about it for weeks. The 7 thousand in itself was a windfall you never could have imagined. It was the new laptop you needed, four times over. It was a large iced coffee ever day for three and a half years. After graduation, if you were smart, it could be your living expenses for the better part of a year. But a hundred thousand might be a house, or a car, or a few years of freedom to pursue your goals. And when you asked how you could trust him to pay when he'd gotten what he wanted, he told you he'd be happy to pay up front.

So here you are, in a dingy hotel, face to face with the broad-shouldered, potbellied older man in front of you. "I saw you through the peephole," he says. There's something impish about him. Maybe it's the toothy grin, or the way his ears stick out from his head, or the obvious glee in his voice as he looks you up and down. "My, you're much better in person. Come in! You got the money then?"

You nod. You didn't leave the Lyft until it was there in your account.

"Good," he says, throwing the dead bolt. "Let's get to it then, shall we?"

"What should...I mean, how do you want to..." you feel yourself talking strangely. Breathing in the wrong places, words tumbling over each other. "Maybe we should...talk first? Get to know each other?"

"No need for that," says the man matter-of-factly, unbuttoning his shirt. His chest is smooth, his skin a mottled pink. He waves a hand at your body. "Go ahead and get those off."

Back in high school, one of your recurring fantasies involved Jason Meier having his way with you in the back of that beat up convertible he used to drive. That old thing used to get you so wet. It was a piece of junk, but something about the exposure of it...In the fantasy, he's driven you out to some secluded spot outside of town. Cicadas drone all around. The night sky shines bright with stars. He cups your face with one hand, strokes your cheek with his thumb, asks you if this is your first time. He kisses the side of your mouth, then your jaw, then below your ear, then down your neck. As his hands undo the top button of your blouse, he tells you he'll be gentle.

The man is watching you expectantly. With his shirt on, he looked like a portly old man. Without it you can see that every inch of that stocky build is hard muscle. That pink skin strains against his mass, muscle rippling beneath it as he moves. "What are you waiting for?"

Your legs tremble. Your knees feel like they're about to buckle. You can hear your heart pounding in your ears. Your body has never done this before. You didn't know you could feel this kind of fear, and yet there's nothing to fight, nowhere to flee. You agreed to this. You decided this was what you wanted. Slowly, you pull your shirt over head.

He groans in the back of his throat, a long, growly sound. His face is a mask of focus, the impish joviality gone, his eyes fixated on your breasts. "And the rest."

You kick off your shoes, pull off your socks. An inch at a time, you slide your shorts and panties over your ass, down your legs, past your trembling knees. You step out of them, and now you're completely exposed. You cross your arms over your chest, then lower them when he grunts disapproval. Almost urgently, he unbuttons his pants, pulls out a long, rigid cock, and begins to stroke himself.

You didn't discover internet porn until your senior year, and before then the only penises you'd seen were a few drawings in your health textbook. In the fantasy, you unbutton Jason Meier's pants and fig. 7.5, "The penis becomes engorged when in state of arousal," pops out of his underwear. You take it in your hands, feeling the weight of it, the girth, and look up into those beautiful brown eyes of his.

This cock is much...realer. It has bounce, texture, even a sound as his hand slides up and down its length. It's longer than the one in that old fantasy, too, and it leans slightly to the left. For years you've wondered what it would be like to see a cock in person, and now that you're here it terrifies you.

"Come here," says the man, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Get on your knees."

You falter. "You didn't...I mean, we didn't agree to that."

"I bought your virginity," says the man. "You ever suck cock before?"

You shake your head.

"Then your mouth is just as much a virgin as your cunt. Get down here."

It's almost a relief to get off your legs, the way they've been threatening to give out. Close up, you can see the purples and blues of the veins under his skin. The head of his cock pulses with anticipation as your lips part, your tongue extends...

You don't think you can do this.

Then his hand is on the back of your head.

You always imagined Jason Meier whimpering as you took him into your mouth. You were never quite able to picture what he would feel like between your lips, on your tongue; the movie camera of your imagination always panned up at that point, to focus on his face. He would let his head fall back in pleasure, eyebrows knit with sensation, lips slightly parted. Now, though, there's no camera to pan. You are here. This is real. And his powerful hand is pushing your mouth onto his cock.

A sound you can't control comes out of you. Your back arches, your hands flail, and then by pure instinct they're on his belly, pushing against him, away from him. Spit runs down your chin, and you wipe it away with the back of your hand. "I'm sorry," you say, looking anywhere but at his face. "I'm sorry, I can't, I thought I could do this but I can't."

There's a horrible darkness in his voice. "I already gave you the money."

"I know, I'll give it back, I'm sorry." The words trip over each other on the way out of your mouth. "I'm really sorry, I shouldn't have, I just, I thought I could..."

His hand is on the back of your head again, and this time his fingers are curled tight into your hair. He jerks your head back, forcing you to look at him, and his eyes are cold and predatory. "I'm not interested in returning what's already bought and paid for." He jams himself back into your mouth.

You always imagined yourself savoring it, taking your time to explore every inch of Jason's length with your tongue, but there's no time for that now. The veiny, throbbing thing in your mouth bypasses your tongue entirely, forcing past your uvula. You gag, then gag again. Your stomach churns and you convulse as your body tries to remove the foreign object, but the man just pushes harder. Your eyes water as he slides deeper, deeper, making your throat bulge, your limbs spasm. As his balls touch your chin, you close your eyes and try to relax your throat.

He holds you like that. You gag for a third time, and thick saliva explodes through the gaps around his cock, dripping down your chin and collecting in a long, dangling rope. Tears roll down your cheeks as you try to acclimatize to the feeling, try to convince your body that nothing is wrong. You think you've got it, and then he moves slightly, and you're gagging again. He groans, grips your head tighter, and in the back of your throat you feel his cock swell slightly. He likes it when you gag for him, says a voice in the back of your mind. The motion is pleasurable for him.

You've got another problem rearing its head. You can't breathe. It was fine at first, but the man shows no interest in freeing up your airways, and in all the gagging and crying, you haven't exactly been conserving your oxygen. You pat his leg, trying to signal to him, but all he does is clap you on the side of the head. Your ear rings, you gag again, and his cock throbs. Black walls are closing in on your vision. The effort of struggling against him becomes too much, and your arms fall to your sides. Your eyelids flutter. You're going to pass out. You're going to pass out, and then what will he do to you?

But just before the world fades to black, he pulls your head back again. You feel every inch of his cock as it slides out of your throat. He lifts your face, and your eyes struggle to focus on his as you take lungful after lungful of glorious air. Drool spills across your lips, but you don't care. You're alive.

The man slaps you hard, leaving a stinging impression of his palm on your cheek. You whimper. Two of his fingers are in your mouth, pushing on the back of your tongue. Not knowing exactly why, you close your lips around them and shut your eyes.

"That's better," he says.

The first time you saw a male sex toy in use was in an ad before a porn video you were watching. You were taken aback by the way the performer had pounded it over his cock, barely more than an extension of his hand. You're reminded of that image as he parts your lips again, and the rape of your throat begins in earnest.

You haven't thought about Jason Meier in years, but at this moment he's the only thing keeping you sane. As your face rams up and down, up and down, you retreat to that beat up convertible, and Jason's soft, thoughtful face. As the man tightens his grip, Jason runs his fingers through your hair. As the man grunts and growls with pleasure, Jason coos your name. With each stroke of his cock down your throat, each spasm of your body, you focus on a different part of Jason's body: his large hands, his long fingers, his shoulders, his jawline, his liquid brown eyes. By the time the man finally releases your hair, you can barely feel your body any more. The convertible is far more real than the squeaky motel bed. The hands on your body are Jason's, soft and tender.

He climbs over the center console straddling you. You lock lips, feel your tongues in each other's mouths, kiss so deeply that it feels as though you share the same breath. He pulls the lever to lay your seat back, and then he's over you, on top of you, lifting your skirt, pulling your panties to the side.

This is the part where, in the old days, you would have slipped a finger or two inside yourself. But this time you don't have to. This time you can feel him inside you, really feel him, and he fills you up like your fingers never could. There's some pain—they told you there'd be pain, didn't they, your first time—but it falls away to the thrill, the lust, the pleasure. Jason whimpers as he slides into you, deeper, deeper, and you moan into each other's mouths as his pelvis meets yours. You take a moment to savor it, breathing each other in, and then he begins to thrust.

You feel drunk. It's exactly like you always imagined it, and somehow better than you could ever have expected. Each movement of his hips brings another sensation: a spasm in the arches of your feet, a hitch in your breath, a churning, swirling need in the depths of your abdomen. Deeper you tell him, harder, and he obliges, pulling you into him, and him into you.

You can feel the orgasm building, but it isn't like any you've had before. Every time you've ever cum, you've been in control. This time, Jason is in control. Jason decides when you cum, how you cum. One hand supports his weight as he leans over you, and the other slides up your belly. You used to watch those hands obsessively. The way he held a pencil, the way he bit his knuckles when he was thinking. Now that hand slides up, caresses your breast. Now that thumb brushes your hair out of your face. Now those fingers close around your throat.

You know you're safe with Jason, but the pressure on your throat triggers some animal fear response in you. You try to squirm away, but his arm is strong, and his hand his firm. Your hands go to his wrist. "I don't like that, stop." He just smiles. It isn't his usual sweet smile, either. This one is cruel. Predatory.

Your face feels tight. Your eyes bulge. You're beginning to panic for real now. "Jason, seriously, stop!" You beat at his arm with your fists, but he easily takes both your wrists in one hand and pins them over your head. You try to kick at him, but he's already past your defenses, between your legs, pushing them uselessly apart. His grip tightens, his rhythm increases, his cock swells inside you. He's getting off on this.

All at once you're back in the hotel room. The man's sweaty red face is inches away from your own, and the lust in his eyes is obvious. His cock seems to push deeper with every thrust, and the horrible thing is that the orgasm is still coming. It's close now, you can feel it, and it's like he knows exactly how to bring it out. You feel floaty, tingly, and that awful pleasure is welling up inside you, a pot about to boil over...

"That's right," he says, his eyes locked on yours. "That's what I was waiting for. That perfect mix of...pleasure...and...fear." He punctuates each of these last three words with a long, deep thrust, and it's these that send the orgasm spilling over. A choked moan pushes itself out of you as your back arches, your toes curl, your legs wrap involuntarily around his waist, tears roll down your cheeks. That floaty feeling has combined with the orgasm to create something like how you imagine heroin must feel; a wave of mind numbing, soul deadening ecstasy. Your insides feel hot, and at first you think that must just be what it feels like when you cum from sex, but then you see the look on his face and realize that he's cumming too. His grip relaxes and he pounds away a few more times at your now-limp body. You stare at the ceiling as he moans, buries his face between your tits, pumps round after round of his warm, thick cum into your cunt, your womb. After one final push he collapses onto you, his cock still inside you, his bulk crushing you into the bed. You don't move.

He strokes your cheek. Fondles your nipple. Kisses your neck. Then he kisses your mouth, his tongue pushing your lips open, his breath like damp earth. You barely see him.

It must be almost ten minutes before he finally gets up, his limp cock sliding out of you at last. You can feel his cum dripping from your cunt as he puts on his underwear, then pants, then shirt, then shoes. "The room is paid for the night," he says with his hand on the door handle. "Thank you for struggling. Taking someone's virtue is so much better when you actually get to take it.

You don't respond.

You don't know how long you lie there, motionless, dripping cum. Oddly, the man who just raped you isn't the one burned onto your mind's eye. Try as you might to return to that sweet teenage fantasy, all you can see is Jason Meier as he held his hand to your throat, and that cruel, predatory smile on his face.

[wandanatsgf]

Sugar, Sugar Part 1

Pairing: WandaNat x Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: After losing your job, you are desperate to come up with some money. Your best friend Kate signs you up for a sugar baby app where you meet Wanda and Natasha, who eventually become your sugar mommies.

Authors Note: I've been reading so many sugar mommy!wandanat x reader fics that I wanted to make one myself. I know the beginning is a bit rough, but I'm just trying to set everything up. I promise it will get better!!!! There will also be plenty of smut in the upcoming chapters, this is just a warning for that now. And I plan on making many parts to this. I hope you all enjoy it!

Part 2 Part 3

“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” you dramatically exclaim. You drape yourself across the old and slightly musty couch in your small two person apartment. Your work uniform rides up your body a little as you lay down, which you quickly pull down, covering yourself again. You pull your right arm over your eyes, trying to block out the light and the horrible day you just had.

Your best friend and roommate Kate laughs sympathetically at your dramatics. “I know getting fired sucks but there’s tons of ways to make money.” She moves your legs and sits down next to you, placing your legs on top of her.

“Like what?”

“Well you could mow lawns, dog sit, babysit, just until you find another job,” Kate suggests.

“I guess I could but I just don’t know if that would be able to cover my bills and let alone rent.”

“Well there is another thing you can try.” The tone in Kate's voice has you sitting up, removing your arm so you can look at her.

“You remember my friend Darcy that I told you about?”

“Yeah the super rich, successful one.”

“Well when she was in college she was a sugar baby,” Kate says before she cuts herself off to scold you.  “And y/n don’t give me that look just hear me out!”

“Ok fine, keep talking.”

“Well she got a whole bunch of money from it. She was able to pay off her student loans and she had some money leftover that she invested and y’know now she’s rich and super successful and hot and amazing. But that wasn’t the point.” Kate shakes her head at herself, scolding herself for getting off topic like she always does. “Anyway maybe you should try being a sugar baby.”

“I don’t know Kate.” Sure this would be a great opportunity for you, if you find someone that is, but do you really want to use your body to get money?

“You could just look and see what’s out there. You don’t have to accept any sugar daddy or sugar mommy proposals,” Kate says and you’ve got to admit that she’s got a good point.

“Ok what the hell,” you say, agreeing.

“Let me just get the sugar baby app name from Darcy and we can do this.”

A few minutes later the app is downloaded on your phone. You feel nervous but also excited. This could be a way for you to not have to worry about money, at least for a while. Maybe it would be nice to be taken care of.

“Ok it’s downloaded, let’s set it up.” The two of you create your profile and pretty soon you’re looking at sugar mommies and sugar daddies.

“What about this one?” You ask Kate. You pass her the phone, and from the look on her face you can tell that it’s a no go.

“Definitely not,” Kate says, her nose wrinkling up in disgust.

“Why not?”

“I know you, and that’s not what you want.” You have to admit she is right, you don’t really want some 50 year old with a penchant for “parading his girls around” as he called it, but you’re desperate and he is the best looking person on there so far.

You continue to scroll through the men and women, none of them really catching your eye until you see the profile of a beautiful red haired girl and an equally beautiful auburn haired girl. You would recognize their faces anywhere, Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff, the owners of the country's best security company.

“There’s no way this is real,” you say. “This has to be some sort of joke or something.” You pass her your phone and watch as her eyes go comically wide.

“There’s no way the Natasha Romanoff and the Wanda Maximoff are looking for a sugar baby,” you say. You practically scoff at the idea, but there’s still that little voice in your head that wonders if maybe the profile is real.

“There’s only one way to find out,” Kate says. She still has your phone in your hands and you watch as she types, until finally she stops.

“Katie what did you do?”

“I just messaged them,” Kate says innocently. You glance down at the message and it says, “Hi my name is y/n and I’d love to get to know you both and see if I’m what you’re looking for ;),”

“Did you have to add the wink Katie? They’re gonna think I’m like a whore or something now,” you whine.

“Oh relax you big baby. It’s fine. And besides maybe a whore is what they’re looking for,” Kate says, giving you a wink.

“Kate!” You exclaim. You lightly slap her on the arm.

“Owww y/n. You’re very feisty for such a tiny person.”

“Serves you right,” you mutter underneath your breath. The two of you continue to scroll through the app when you see a notification pop up.

Natasha and Wanda had replied to your message.

“Oh my god,” you say. You can feel yourself freaking out, even when you’re going into the texting part of the app and opening the message.

“Hi darling, we’d love to get to know you more too! We’re Natasha and Wanda, we’re both sugar mommies who are looking for a sugar baby to share. We work quite a bit, but we promise that we’ll still have time for you if things work out between us. Can’t wait to hear back from you,” the message reads. You show the message to Kate who responds with excitement.

But you can feel yourself freaking out on the inside even more now. However your doubts from earlier creep in and calm you down. There’s a big chance that this is just a catfish, but you still want to take the chance. Who wouldn’t want an opportunity to be with Natasha and Wanda?

“Help me come up with a response,” you tell the girl sitting next to you. After a few minutes of back and forth, the two of you come up with what you think is the perfect response.

“Thanks for getting back to me so quickly. I’m y/n, a sugar baby who is currently in college trying to pay off my loans. I normally have plenty of time on my hands and would be able to be around whenever you need.”

You cringe at the last part of the message, which was all Kate’s idea, but clearly it worked because a few minutes later you have a text inviting you out to get some coffee tomorrow afternoon and you say yes.

“You have to come with me though, just in case it’s like a catfish or something,” you tell your best friend. 

“Of course, I’ll sit in the cafe and just text me if you need me,” Kate says reassuring you. 

The next day comes too quickly and before you know it you and Kate are sitting in the cafe waiting for Natasha and Wanda. You’re sitting at a table in the back, while Kate is sitting at a table across the room from you. The minutes seem to drag on forever, making you even more anxious than you already are. Everytime the bell above the door goes off, you glance up, hoping it’s one of the girls walking through. You’re just about to lose hope when you see Natasha and Wanda walk in. They look so breathtakingly beautiful. 

“Hi Y/n,” Wanda says, being the first to greet you. She towers over you as she envelopes you in a hug, which you gladly reciprocate.  

“Hi,” you say back. It comes out quieter than you meant it to. You can feel your cheeks heating up, but gladly both women ignore it. 

“And hi I’m Natasha,” the red haired girl says. She also towers over you, but you like that about the two women. She also envelopes you into a hug. She smells like vanilla and smoke and it gives you a sense of comfort. The three of you sit down and the two women get straight to the point. 

“So as you know we’re looking for a sugar baby,” Natasha says, her voice a low tone. “We just wanted to meet with you today to go over some things and see if we’d get along,” she explains. 

“Ok that sounds good,” you agree. 

“Have you ever been in a dynamic like this before?” 

“No I haven’t,” you say, your blush coming back. You can feel your nerves getting worse as well as you fidget with a ring on your hand. 

“It’s ok to be nervous baby, we won’t bite,” Wanda leans in to tell you. She places her hand on top of yours, stopping your fidgeting. She places her hand in yours, which you gladly hold. 

“That’s alright, we’re pretty new to this too. But there are a couple of things we wanted to go over today. First, when do you have class?”

“Well Tuesday and Thursday mornings I have class until 11am, but besides that my days are wide open.” This answer makes Natasha smile, which in turn makes you smile. 

“What is it that you need help with?” You appreciate that Natasha is getting straight to the point, it’s doing wonders at calming your nerves.

“Mostly rent and some bills. I, uh, just lost my job and it’s been hard to stay afloat.”

“Well that won’t be a problem now that we’re here,” Natasha tells you, sending you a wink. The action sends a blush across your face, turning it a shade of pink. 

"I know this isn't exactly normal," Natasha says, "But we promise if today works out, which I think it will, we'll take care of you darling." Natasha's words make you smile. Normally you were never so shy around people, but the two women next to you really bring it out in you.

“Do you have any questions for us honey?” Wanda asks. 

“Yes actually. What is it exactly that I would be doing?”

“You would keep us company, go to some company functions with us, and,” Natasha says, her voice dropping low as she says the next part, “have sex with us when we want it.”

“But obviously we would work up to that part,” Wanda adds cheerfully. 

“Ok,” you say, taking all of that information in. You knew going into this that sex would be on the table, but it shocks you that these two beautiful women are wanting to do it with you. 

“I’m sorry if this is a weird question, but aren’t the two of you together? What exactly do you need me for?”

“Yes we’re together sweetheart, but we’re not the most compatible in the bedroom.”

“What Wanda means is that we’re both pretty dominant and we need someone submissive to fulfill our needs,” Natasha says. Wanda slaps her on her arm and lightly scolds her, making you giggle. 

“I can do that,” you say, letting both of them know that you want this. The thought of being submissive for both of them stirs a longing within you. You can feel a slight dampness in your panties and you cross your legs, hoping Wanda, who is still holding your hand, doesn’t notice. But of course she does. 

“You already feeling a little needy, baby?” Wanda whispers, her cockiness coming out of nowhere, but god does it turn you on. Her lips ghost on the outer shell of your ear, causing your breathing to become ragged. 

“Mhm,” you manage to get out. 

“You’re so cute when you’re needy. I can’t wait to see just how needy I can make you,” Wanda says. She leans away from you, but not before leaving a soft kiss on your cheek, making you go pink.

“Don’t kill the poor girl Wanda,” Natasha scolds. 

“I can’t help it, she’s just so cute,” Wanda says, like you aren't there, which just turns you on even more. 

“Yeah she is,” Natasha agrees. 

You don’t know what to say, too absorbed in your own lust, when Natasha speaks again, snapping you out of it.

“Here are our phone numbers,” she says, slipping you a piece of paper. You take the pieces of paper and program their numbers into your phone and you give them your number and they do the same.

“We’ll text you tomorrow to work out the details and set up a contract, assuming you still want to do this?” Wanda questions. 

“I do,” you reassure her. 

“Then we’ll talk to you tomorrow, detka,” Wanda says. The two women get up, both hugging you goodbye. You watch the two women walk out, having forgotten that Kate was also at the cafe until she comes up to you. 

“Oh my god,” Kate says.

“I know,” is all you say.

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to get two sugar mommies.”

[steddieas-shegoes]

sounds like a date

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is sharing food' rated g | 743 words | no cw | tags: fluff, established relationship, flirting

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

"Can I have a fry?" Eddie asked with his mouth half full of the last fry he'd stolen off Steve's plate.

"Why didn't you just get your own fries?" Steve asked, handing him a fry from his plate.

"Because I only wanted a couple and you always share with me," Eddie shoved the fry into his mouth.

That was true; Steve always shared his food when they were having their usual date night at the diner. In fact, he pretty much only got fries because he knew Eddie would want some.

He preferred just eating his turkey club sandwich and smiling over at Eddie who always ordered two milkshakes because he could never decide on a flavor, a cheeseburger, onion rings that he complained were soggy every time, and a chef salad for balance.

Eddie never finished his food, or the milkshakes, but he always finished Steve's fries.

So it became an unspoken routine, something Steve wasn't even sure Eddie noticed even after months of doing it. Robin said he was a sap for doing it, but he didn't care.

"How's the chocolate shake?" Steve asked as Eddie dipped another stolen fry into it. "Good with the fries?"

"Yeah, but the strawberry is better. They didn't add extra chocolate syrup this time," Eddie half-pouted, as if he didn't complain about their lack of chocolate in the chocolate shake every time he ordered it.

"Can I have a sip of your Coke?" Eddie asked after another minute of stealing fries from Steve's plate.

Steve wordlessly handed his cup over, surprised it took him this long to ask for it. He usually asked way before he'd even started on the fries.

Eddie, as expected, took a few large sips, almost draining the rest of the drink.

"Why doesn't the waitress ever bring us napkins?" Eddie asked as he set the cup back down in front of Steve.

Steve handed him one of the napkins he'd grabbed from the table they passed on the way to their own. The waitress did always forget to bring them, so Steve prepared.

"You're so good to me," Eddie smirked, brushing his foot against Steve's ankle under the table.

Steve was pretty sure the waitress knew what was going on between them and just hadn't bothered to say anything, and the rest of the diner was empty. Their date night was pretty late, right after Eddie's Hellfire night with the kids that always seemed to go longer and longer. It was damn near midnight now, most of the town in bed, the rest up to no good somewhere else.

It was peaceful, being here with Eddie like this.

It was a look at a future they could have, at least a version of it, though neither of them planned on staying in Hawkins forever.

Steve slid his plate of the few remaining fries over to Eddie and wiped his hands on his napkin. "Finish 'em. I'm done."

"You didn't even eat any," Eddie pointed out before grabbing another one.

"Wasn't that hungry, I guess."

"Mhm," Eddie smirked knowingly, but didn't comment further.

"All set for the bill?" The waitress came by to ask, tapping her pen against the pad of paper. "Who gets it tonight?"

Eddie pointed at Steve, like he did every single week they did this.

Steve took the bill from her hand like he did every single week.

He pulled out his wallet, grabbed the $10 in cash he always kept there for date night, and handed it back to her.

Eddie waited until she walked away to pull out his wallet, grabbing $2 for a tip.

"You know at some point, you may have to actually pay for a date," Steve said as he slipped his jacket on.

"Maybe," Eddie shrugged, like he knew Steve loved paying for their date, made him feel like he could provide. Eddie joked it was his inner caveman. "Maybe I'll just take us on a nice road trip with all this money I'm savin'."

"Oh?" Steve froze.

Eddie looked back at him, beaming smile.

"Yeah. Next month sound good to you? A tour of diners across the midwest. Every night is date night. All my treat," Eddie suggested, like he'd already had this planned for a while. "I'd love to steal your fries in new places, Stevie."

Steve felt himself blushing, somehow always surprised at the lengths Eddie went to to make him feel so loved.

"Sounds like a date."

[haaarry]

Harry and Y/N make-up.

Harry has to be quick.

He and Y/N haven’t been on good terms for about two weeks now, and they agreed to not talk and give each other space so they could think about what to do.

But that hasn’t stopped him from still fulfilling his boyfriend responsibilities.

He still thinks it’s right to text her good morning and good night, as well as leave her little goody baskets at her front door for when she gets off work.

Like today!

He realized the first of the month is coming up, and Y/N has to pay rent. He knows she’s good on cash, but he likes to help her in any way he can (even when he’s supposed to be giving her space) and thought it’d be nice to send her a little something — actually, a quite big amount. He sends her the entirety of her rent through a money-sending app, as well as a few extra hundred dollars. He labels the memo with “rent/groceries/anything, really.” He smiles and presses send. He hopes she doesn’t send it back.

Then, he places down the goody basket he got for Y/N at her door step (filled with all her favorite snacks, as well as a note to let her know he still loves her so she doesn’t forget) and turns quickly on his heels. As much as he would like to see Y/N, he knows she gets home at about this time after work, and he doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable. He’s already pressing the boundaries as it is.

But, as luck would have it, he’s face-to-face with her as he turns around. His breath hitches in his throat, feeling his body go numb with excitement yet also feeling anxious. He notices Y/N’s eyes go wide.

“Hi,” she says simply, yet in a slightly higher-than-normal-pitch due to being caught off guard.

“Hi,” he returns the greeting. He realizes he must look foolish — standing outside her apartment when they’re supposed to be giving each other space. “I, um-“ he stutters, “brought you this.” He gestures to the goody basket, feeling his cheeks heat. He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous.

Y/N tilts her head around Harry’s body to look at the basket on the ground. She looks back at him and gently smiles. “Thank you,” she looks around nervously. “And thank you for the money. You didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to,” he proclaims. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Y/N’s eyes soften. She takes note of his anxious demeanor and looks at the goody basket again. “Do you want to come inside?” She asks randomly. But not really — she misses him, and she accepts it.

“Yes,” he blurts out. He realizes how eager he sounds, but he doesn’t care.

“Okay,” she smiles and looks anywhere but at him, feeling a warmth encompass her body suddenly.

They enter her home. Harry sets down the goody basket on her kitchen island, taking a second to inhale the familiar scent. It was weird; he used to sleep here every night, but before this moment, he hadn’t been here in two weeks.

“How was work?” Harry abruptly asks, not liking the silence.

“Oh!” Y/N softly giggles. “It was good! I actually had a good day.” She swings her arms back and forth, not sure of how to act or stand. She doesn’t know why she’s so nervous.

“That’s good,” Harry lamely replies, looking down at the design on her kitchen island and tracing it with his finger.

A silence falls between them again, neither of them knowing how to act around the other — given their situation.

“How was your day?” Y/N asks.

“I don’t want to talk about my day,” Harry states, looking up at her. Y/N notices he’s slightly teary-eyed. “What’re we doing?” He asks in an upset tone. “Are we going to be in this awkward state forever?”

“Harry-“ Y/N tries to interject.

“No, really,” Harry continues. “I mean, we’re just going to go on and pretend we’re together, but we’re not really together because you don’t answer my texts and you don’t let me come see you and-“

“Harry,” Y/N says in a stern yet calm tone. She grabs Harry’s face, him not even realizing she had gotten closer to him during his spiel. “I love you.” Her voice is incredibly soft.

Harry looks into Y/N’s eyes, replaying her words in his mind. Her watery eyes match his own, and he feels himself sink lower into her touch, falling into her hands. He closes his eyes, and the salt of his tears burn.

“I love you,” he says back with his eyes closed. “I love you more,” he says with his eyes open.

Y/N shakes her head with a light laugh and sniffle. “No.”

“Yes,” Harry says firmly, inching his face closer toward hers. His lips brush hers, waiting to receive a confirmation his tongue can enter her mouth with either her body language or a simple word. She parts her lips, just barely, and Harry takes the opportunity.

He kisses her, rather sloppily, and their lips create a smooch sound before he slips his tongue into her mouth. Y/N moans, missing Harry's kisses, and falls into his body. She caresses his face and holds onto his jawline with one hand, while the other travels through the hair at the back of his head, slightly tugging. Harry reciprocates the moan and instinctively juts his hips forward, hitting Y/N's pelvis. She laughs into Harry's mouth and pulls away -- although not without Harry whining in disagreement.

"Where ya goin'?" He murmurs against her lips, with a smile. "Need you," he juts his hips forward again.

Y/N becomes shy, resting her forehead on Harry's cheek and giggling. "I can tell." She looks down at him in his pants, pushing hard against the material. "You want my mouth?" She asks bravely while looking up at him, with a mischievous smile.

"Please, baby." Harry grabs hold of her waist and slips his right hand into her pants, wanting to see if she'd gotten wet yet; and she has. "Fuck," Harry moans, slipping his middle and ring fingers easily through her folds, "you're already so wet, baby."

Y/N is already a whimpering mess, moaning into Harry's mouth as he gathers her wetness and brings it up to rub against her clit. "I thought... I..." she struggles to get out, "I thought you wanted me to-" her breath hitches in her throat at Harry slips two of his fingers into her.

"Later, sweet girl." Harry whispers into her ear. "I think you need to be taken care of first, hmm?" The speed of his fingers quicken, causing them to create a squelching noise that sends Y/N into a frenzy.

"But I... I wanna... please," Y/N begs him, ready to lap all over his cock, despite how wonderful Harry's fingers feel.

"You wanna what?" Harry encourages her. "Hmm?" He thumbs at her clit, rubbing circles against it.

Y/N looks up at Harry, doe-eyed. She cradles his dick, bulging through his pants. "I want you in my mouth," she says seductively, and Harry feels himself begin to leak.

She gets down on her knees, not even giving Harry and opportunity to pull his own hand out of her pants before doing so. She lifts her shirt up and over her head and unclasps her bra. She knows how much Harry likes to see her breasts when she takes him in her mouth.

Usually, Y/N likes to unzip Harry's pants and suck him off through his zipper, but today she's eager and pulls his pants all the way down. His cock springs up and points at Y/N's face. The wet tip brushes her lips -- puffy from Harry's kisses -- and coats them in his precum. She tastes it and Harry watches, his chest rising and falling as he eyes the beauty on her knees for him.

"Gonna suck my cock?" He asks her in a taunting yet playful tone. Grabbing her hair, Y/N feels herself getting even more needy for Harry's dick, and she wraps her lips around his tip, closing her eyes. "My pretty girl," he praises her, voice hitching as she takes him deeper. She slides her tongue all around him, getting him nice and wet so she can work him with her hand while sucking on his tip.

"So big," she gushes, jerking him off while looking up at Harry. She slathers a mixture of her spit and his precum onto her nipples, using the head of his dick as a sort of paintbrush. She knows Harry has a peculiar obsession with her tits -- her nipples in particular. Seeing them hard and dripping (from him) gets him going more than anything.

"Ah," Harry throws his head back and sucks air between his teeth. He speaks heavily and grittily. "All mine, right?" He reaches his right hand down and squeezes her nipple. She takes him back into her mouth and groans. "Right?" He persists, squeezing her nipple again before tangling her hair into a makeshift ponytail and giving it a good yank.

Y/N pops him out of her mouth. "M'all yours," she says honestly.

Even when they were broken up, she was his -- and she always will be.

Harry pulls Y/N up to her feet, guiding her by the hold he still has on her hair. He grips her jaw with the other hand and kisses her hard. He's ready to take her, and he can't wait another second.

"All mine." He spins her around and bends her over slightly onto the kitchen island, just enough to have her behind push back against him. Removing her pants is quick. He slips into her, finally, and they voice how good it feels at the same time, such as fucking hell and so big, baby, both in pure ecstasy.

"You're all mine," Harry reiterates with a whimper, breath shuttering against Y/N's neck. "My pretty girl." His hips speed up, knowing this will be quick. His lips drag against her neck as he whispers filthy things to her, causing her to melt even further and push her behind onto him, wanting to take control. They both missed each other so much, and they're finally getting their release.

"Missed you," Y/N manages to get out, almost losing her voice with how hard Harry's fucking her.

"I missed you more," Harry says back with a firm tug on her hair, sending the sensation of pain mixed with pleasure to her scalp. "M'all yours, too," he says as he gets close, and he can't wait to cum. "You want me to cum, baby?" He asks her because he knows how hot she thinks it is -- to perceive that she has the control (she really does. She could tell Harry to cum 30 seconds into sex and he would). "Want my cum inside?"

"Ngggh," Y/N gurgles, knowing she's close too. She breathes frantically and squeezes her walls around his cock as he scrapes his teeth against her neck. "Please."

In no time Harry cums, shooting from his tip deep inside her. His grip on her hair tightens, pulling her hair so tight it almost hurts, but she takes it. The burning pit in her stomach was ignited as well, set off as she felt Harry's cum paint her walls inside her. She cums, clamping down on Harry's dick and gripping the kitchen island for stability.

"Harry," she whines as her legs grow weak.

Harry gives a few more slow strokes of his cock before pulling out. His tip rests on her behind, leaving traces of their mixed juices on her skin. Harry shutters, feeling extra sensitive. He turn her around and falls against her body -- his head limp on her breasts. He falls to his knees and hugs her hips, giving her tummy a kiss before closing his eyes and sighing contently.

Y/N giggles breathlessly, tousling his hair. Just a few short minutes ago, their positions were reversed. She knows how tired and sleepy Harry gets after he cums (if they were in bed, he'd be fast asleep by now) so she lets him rest for a couple of minutes before encouraging him to look at her. Her hands on his face startle him (he was asleep) but he looks up at her with a loopy smile.

"Hi," he says innocently.

"Hey," she says back, still playing with his hair. "You okay?"

Harry stifles a laugh, burying his face against the skin of her stomach. "I haven't been this good in a long time."

Y/N's heart flutters. She knows what he's implying.

"Are we..." Suddenly Harry feels nervous. He doesn't want to say the wrong thing or make the wrong assumption.

Y/N helps Harry up to his feet and rubs the tip of her nose against his with her eyes closed. "I love you," she says simply yet truthfully. "Fuck that break."

Harry's laugh fills the kitchen. He pushes his forehead against hers, feeling as if his heart is going to explode. "I love you more."

[somanyratsinthewalls]

Omg congratulations on 700! 🎉 It is so so we’ll deserved. I must admit that I reread your work a lot because it is just so good and some of my favorites! 🥰

For the prompt, as always I am a SUCKER for the one bed trope, but I’d like to add another fun element so….

Blue + Lion + Hummingbird perhaps? 😈

Okay this one was a request by many, including my cutie pal @thirstydiglett and @truebluesanji and HOT DOG is it a good one!

Just One Bottle (+18)

Pairing: Sanji x Strawhat Fem!Reader

Prompt: Only One Bed x Aphrodisiac

WC: 2000 lol

Warnings: Open for interpretation on how the pals ended up ingesting the aphrodisiac, forced closeness, unprotected sex, p in v sex, morning after pill discussion, drug use, creampie, Sanji being a gentleman!

— — 

You strolled the aisles of the bookstore as you waited for Sanji to finish up his snail call outside. You ran your fingers across the labels gently as you passed by each shelf. You glanced towards the shop windows and saw that Sanji was outside giving some choice words to whoever was on the end of his transponder snail. The sun was setting and you found yourself captivated by the way the low light reflected off his blonde hair. He looked handsome. 

But he wasn’t your type. He was always fawning over you, even more obnoxiously so than for Nami and Robin. You never gave him half a thought in terms of a choice as a romantic partner, he was just a crew mate that you cared for deeply… as a friend. You turned down another aisle of bookshelves as you could clearly tell that Sanji wasn’t finishing his conversation any time soon. 

You found yourself stopped at the romance section and pulled a bright purple tome off the shelf. “Part Time Human, Full Time Lover…” You read the title to yourself before flipping it open. You find yourself reading a rather graphic passage describing an intimate encounter between the human protagonist and her well-endowed centaur lover. “Goodness…” You whisper to yourself as you find yourself flipping the page in interest. 

“Y/n!” You snap the book closed instinctively as you hear your name called. Sanji was rounding the corner of the aisle and came up to you. 

“Sanji! Hi!” You hurriedly put the book back on the shelf. “Any news?” 

“Well, the sun is going down fast and the moss head idiot got his group lost so we have to stay on the island for the night. We’re all too far apart to get back to the Sunny. We can find an inn around here and get some rooms.” Sanji explains to you. 

“Fine, hopefully somewhere with a restaurant. I’m starving.” You smile. “Wouldn’t it be nice to have a night off from cooking?” You raise an eyebrow at the tall blonde. 

“I guess. Don’t expect the same quality of food that you’d get back on the ship. Shall we?” Sanji remarks as he gestures to the door of the bookstore, letting you go first. 

— —

After wandering the small village for awhile, the two of you find a small inn that had a tavern on the first floor. You ducked in, trying not to draw attention seeing as the two of you were highly wanted pirates. 

Sanji strode confidently to the front desk. 

“We require two rooms for the night. Money is no issue.” Sanji stoically demands of the innkeeper. 

“Sir I’m sorry… but we only have one room left tonight… I’d be happy to give you a discounted rate…” The mousey old man behind the counter said as his voice trembled. 

“This kind of dump has no vacancy? You’re telling me that this hole in the wall has only one room available-“

“We’ll take it.” You pushed past Sanji’s shoulder and placed your stack of Beri on the counter. 

The innkeeper’s eyes danced from your smile to Sanji’s scowl. 

“We’ll take it.” Sanji echoed, lowering his voice. 

“E-e-excellent news! I will issue you your keys now. Would the couple like one set or two?” The old man sputters out. 

“Two.” “One.”

You say two and Sanji replies with one. He clears his throat. 

“Two, please sir.” Sanji changes his response. 

The old man issues you two sets of keys and hands you your change after you pay for the room. 

“Please, enjoy our restaurant. You may find that sharing a room is not uncommon among couples at this hotel.” The innkeeper mentions. 

You look up at Sanji. 

“I am kind of hungry, Sanji. Shall we?” You question. 

“Can’t go to bed with any empty stomach, can we?” Sanji shrugs. 

Sanji put his hand on the small of your back and led you in the direction of the small restaurant. 

“Two of you?” The stout hostess asked and you nodded. She led you and Sanji to a candlelit table in the back of the pub. Of course, Sanji pulled your chair out for you. Once seated across from one another, you picked up the drink menu. 

“The room was so cheap… should we get the champagne?” You smirk over the menu across the table at Sanji. 

“Nami would kill us… what’s the label?” Sanji gestures to grab the drink menu from you and you hand it to him. His brows furrow. “I actually haven’t heard of this brand before… but it’s expensive… must be from the South Blue…” Sanji quirks a curled eyebrow up at you. “Should we?”

The sides of your mouth curl up. 

“Yes.” 

Sanji breaks into a grin as the waitress arrived at your table. 

“Anything I can get you two tonight?” The cute redheaded waitress asked you both. 

“We’ll start with a bottle of the champagne.” Sanji says to the waitress. “And for food… anything your recommend for a night on the town?” He says with a smirk. 

“Oh, I think our chef can do something for you.” The waitress says with a smile. 

“Perfect.” Sanji says as he snaps his menu closed and hands it to the waitress. 

— — 

The two of you had finished your bottle of champagne and dinner and were waiting around for the waitress to bring you your bill. 

“No no, it really was lovely. I just have never had a champagne like this…” Sanji says as the two of you discuss dinner. 

“The oysters were a nice touch, I thought.” You remark. 

“Mr BlackLeg sir thank you…” The waitress interrupts as he places a large stack of Beri on the tray containing your bill. 

“That was a nice tip you left…” You say as Sanji ushers you softly out of your seat, covering your back with his suit jacket. “Far more than most would.” You didn’t feel drunk, but you felt some strange warmth growing in your lower half. It started building when you drank that damned champagne. 

“It’s nothing for someone who used to work in hospitality. Their service is worth far more than the champagne.” Sanji says as he guides you to the stairs, leading you up to your room on the third floor. 

You reach your room and Sanji fumbles with the keys before getting the lock open. The door opens to reveal a small room with a queen size bed and an ensuite bathroom. 

“I-I can sleep on the floor.” Sanji says immediately. You turned and saw that his cheeks were bright pink. Was it from the alcohol?

“It’s fine, we’re adults. Let’s just get to bed.” You respond and begin stripping off your pants. You then unstrap your bra and take it off through the front of your shirt. Sanji hesitates for a second before stripping down to just his boxers. 

“I’ll take this side.” You said awkwardly as you slide into the bed. 

“Right. Goodnight then.” Sanji shuts off the lights and hops into bed on the side opposite you. 

“Yep. Night.” You curl up into your side, so that you wouldn’t encroach on your crew mates sleeping space. 

All you can hear is labored breathing. 

Was it your own?

Was it Sanji’s?

Something was off. You couldn’t sleep. 

Why was your pulse thrumming in your privates? Why was there slick gushing out of your slit to soak your underwear? Nothing even remotely sexual has happened tonight and yet your levels of arousal were off the charts. You tossed and turned for several minutes trying to ignore it, having the ache between your legs only grow more intense. 

You couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Sanji?” You whisper out into the darkness. 

“Gods, Y/N, tell me you feel like I do right now.” Sanji responds in between pants. 

“What the fuck happened to us?” You breath out to the dark ceiling above you. 

“Something in that drink…” Sanji breathes out. “It fucking hurts…” 

You peer over to your left and see Sanji grabbing at his crotch beneath the sheets. 

“They drugged us.” You pant out, right hand delving into your panties and rubbing at your clit, trying to get some relief from the burn this mysterious wine was causing you. 

“I-I don’t know how to say this, mon cherie… But what if we… helped each other…" Sanji said as he saw you pleasuring yourself beneath the bed covers. 

“Right… it’s just helping a friend…” You say softly as you touch your sex further, reaching your left hand out under the sheets to wrap around Sanji’s erect penis. 

“YES- I mean, yes-“ Sanji jerks at your touch. “It’s just relieving each other…”

“Okay… fine…” You relent. 

Sanji jumps up and positions himself above you in a nanosecond. You take this time to push your panties down and your t-shirt over your head.

“Spread your legs for me, my love…” Sanji whispers as he hovers over you. “Show me what you need…” 

“Sanji please, I need you inside of me.” You pleaded as you brought your hand down to spread your pussy lips. “Sanji why does it hurt?! Please help me!” You bucked your hips in his direction. You were desperate. 

“I’m gonna fix it, okay? I’m gonna stop it from hurting. Do you want that, y/n?” Sanji asked. 

“Yes! Please help me!” You cried out again as you saw Sanji pull himself fully from his boxers. 

Sanji dances the head of his dick across you clit as you whimpered. 

“I’ve got you, mon amour…” Sanji assures you as he leans down and pushes his cock into your trembling hole. 

“OH-!” The moan is ripped from your lungs as you feel the throbbing head of Sanji’s member push past your g-spot to fill you completely. “Fucking finally-“ You groan as your eyes roll to the back of your head, the fullness you’ve been craving in your bones finally being fulfilled. 

“More, more, more….” You chant as Sanji bucks his hips into yours with a fervent pace. Whatever aphrodisiac was in that wine had fully engulfed your brain and all you wanted was a thick cock inside of you stretching you out. The only thing you could focus on was the wet glide of Sanji’s heavy dick in and out of your hole. “Please, more!” You cried. 

“My love, I’ll give you everything you want…” Sanji’s eagerness to please came through as he pushed your thighs up towards your chest, allowing him further access to your favorite spot. “Need you to cum on me… please..” He begged. 

“M-More.. want more..." You whimper out. 

Sanji takes one of his hands from the crook of your knee and places it around your neck gently. He leans in and places a tender kiss on your lips. He moves his other hand to the top of your sex. Sanji slips two fingers inside of you next to his own cock, assuring you're full to the brim and your favorite spot is being stroked with every thrust.

"San-ji! So- Fuckin- Full!" You cried out in the throws of pleasure, finally feeling exactly what you wanted.

“I can’t do this much longer, mon cherie, so wet and so tight…” Sanji groans into your lips as he ruts into you like an animal. “Need you to cum…” 

“I’m…cumming… fuck!” You scrunch your eyes shut and scratch at Sanji’s naked back. 

“So perfect….” Sanji whimpers into your sweaty neck as he shoots his load into you. You stroked his neck all the way down to the base of his spine. 

“Aaah- Fuck- Ah!” You hear the cook grunt into your flesh as he digs his hips into yours further. 

“A-are you cumming again?” You ask with a heavy sigh, coming down from your own orgasm. 

“Sh-shiiiit….” Sanji groans. Tears prick at your eyes as overstimulation sets in. “M-my love…” 

You feel Sanji’s hips drive further into yours, impossibly deep. He was emptying yet another massive load in you in less than a few minutes, it was spilling filthily out of your hole around his cock. Sanji collapsed almost immediately on top of you without pulling out. 

Sanji wrapped his arms around your torso and settled in.

“You know you’re going to have to ask Chopper about a ‘morning after’ situation, right?” You muse as you stroke Sanji’s lower back. 

“I think the embarrassment is worth it.” Sanji smirks as he nuzzles into your breast. 

You smile and pull your love-cook close to fall asleep.

— —

Hope you ALL enjoyed!

xx

Mo 

[thehighladywrites]

corrupted cops.

pairing: police officer cassian x drug dealer reader

summary: you get caught red handed by cassian and try to do whatever it takes to skip out on jail

warnings: 18+, tiny plot like minimal, smut, backshots, seduction, solicitation, illegal activities, drugs mentioned, car sex, riding, cuffs being used wrongly😉

amara’s note: if u see any mistakes or errors no you didn’t and i blame english

next episode! — tba😉

series masterlist

"10, 20, 30 – are you kidding me? Pay for real or get out if my face," you demand, your hand outstretched, impatience and annoyance evident on your face.

This fool thinks he can score a whole bag for just $30. Not only is your supply top-tier and unmatched, but you also deal in real quality weed. You’re drugs are in demand and are selling quickly on many street corners, earning you hefty profits.

"Can't I pay some other time?" The typical rich, snotty guy with the douchebag hairstyle looks at you as if this is a negotiation, like he can convince you to lower your price for a rich trust fund baby like him. No fucking way.

"Listen dipshit, I'll make you pay double if I have to repeat myself. Then I'll ban you," you warn, narrowing your eyes at him as you slowly retract your arm.

The guy panics, sighs, then pulls out a $100 bill.

"See? You can be good!" you quip, snatching the bill out of his hands.

He mutters something before leaving, driving off in his stupidly loud supercar.

You were so overcharging him but you didn’t care. “Fucking loser.”

You turned around, pulling the massive stack you earned tonight out of your pocket, smiling as you think of what new things to buy for your luxury apartment. You count the money before looking up and freezing.

A man is standing there, dressed in the full nine yards in a police uniform, hands folded over his chest as he looks down at you with furrowed brows.

“Mind telling me what you were doing?”

His gruff voice entrances you for a moment.

It’s in that moment you realize that it’s the voice of the guy from your old class. The loud, popular guy had turned into a police officer. It didn’t shock you, honestly. Cassian was always about honesty and integrity, all about giving back to the community and whatnot.

Then you remember you’re holding a massive stack of money, weed is in your pocket, and he most likely saw you selling. So you smile at him before running.

You bolt, the sound of his heavy footsteps driving you forward.

Panic starts to set in, but you push it down, focusing on your escape. You bite your lip, urging yourself to keep going despite the danger looming around you.

“I’m SO fucked,” you think, looking around for an escape route.

In the dimly lit alley, you spot a door and rush towards it, relief flooding through you. Finally, you think, a way out from this mess. Your hands shake as you fumble with the lock, but no matter how hard you try, the door remains stubbornly shut, making you almost sob in frustration.

Frantic, you search for another escape route, your heart pounding in your chest.

"An alley? How cliche," he remarks, approaching you with a wry grin. The dim light of the alley lamp highlights his handsome face. You didn’t have time to admire him before, since you were running and all, but damn, he looked absolutely delicious.

Dark features, nice hair, a straight nose, and a stubbled jaw. He was wearing a tight short-sleeved officer shirt that hugged his built arms insanely. He had really grown into a fine man compared to the young boy he used to be. You looked him up and down, really taking in his height as he got closer and closer.

"You know there’s no way out of this, so put your hands infront of you and let’s make this easy, yeah? Don’t do anything stupid. Again," he says, his voice firm but with a hint of exasperation.

“Fine.”

You chewed the inside of your mouth, trying to think of a way out of this as he put the cuffs on you, leading you back to his car. Maybe some sweet words and feminine tears would solve it, you thought, hoping for a chance to talk your way out of trouble.

You had never gotten caught before, it was extremely humiliating and you would not stand for it.

—

"What’s your name, officer?" you ask, your voice tinted with slight seduction, testing if he remembers you. You don’t care what you have to do; you will get out of this.

"You know who I am. Badge number 031210," he answers, eyes on the road, hands gripping the steering wheel.

“Okay, Cassian. I think there has been a huge mistake. You don’t really wanna arrest me,” you say, rolling your eyes playfully, the cuffs jingling as you motion with your hands.

“Yeah? Why do I really not want to arrest you?”

“Because I’m a good person, I really am. So I happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Come on, we can overlook this, just let me go.” you plead, trying to appeal to his sense of leniency from the backseat of his cop car.

He chuckles, lookinh back at you through the mirror. “Can’t do that. Maybe don’t deal drugs next time.”

He sighs looking at you with sympathy that makes your skin crawl. It made you feel ashamed that his old classmate was a lowlife drug dealer.

“What happened, Y/N? I remember how smart you were. Surely, you could have become something big,” he questioned.

You looked away not being able to handle the emotions in his eye. “Things happened Cassian. I’m not explaining them to you,” you try crossing your arms then remember the cuffs and settle for putting them in your lap.

Cassians gaze hardens slightly. “Okay then. I guess you’ll have to explain it all down at the precinct.”

Okay, so you’re screwed, right? Wrong. There’s always a plan cooking in your little head.

You take your cuffed hands in front of you and drag down the zipper of your hoodie, looking down innocently. “Cassian, could you turn on the AC? It’s a little hot in here. And you don’t mind me taking off my hoodie, right?”

Cassian grips the wheel, the leather creaking slightly. “I don’t mind.”

As you slip off your hoodie, you catch his gaze lingering on your exposed skin, a flicker of something in his eyes. The air between you thickens with tension, the heat rising in the confined space of the car.

Thankfully, there’s no barrier between you, so there’s nothing stopping you from getting closer to him.

“Cass, I’m having trouble taking it off, could you help me?” you ask, having shuffled very close to him, talking lowly into his ear. You're directly behind him, knowing the effect your voice had on the man.

You took advandtage of the fact that you were in a red light and got closer, whispering and pleading for him to help you get comfortable. Cassian’s eyes fluttered slight at the way your voice and breath were hitting his ear.

You scanned his body, his composure, cassian was tense, there was no doubt about it––he was more than turned on. “That’s cute.”

That snapped him out of his trance. He straightened up a little. “Do you want me to arrest you for solicitation too?” he mutters, driving to the station.

You start to beg some more, knowing that he’s at his limit. There’s no way he’s gonna be able to keep up the good cop act for long.

You start to place light kisses on his cheek, traveling all the way to his neck. He lets out a groan and tucks his lips between his teeth, struggling to maintain his composure.

“Come play with me, officer. I’ll let you do whatever you want to me,” you add, licking a stripe up his neck. That’s all it takes for him to speed into a abandoned alley and park haphazardly.

The adrenaline makes your heart beat faster and faster, a sick rush going through you.

There was a moment of silence when he pulled you out of the car, his grip firm on your upper arm. You found yourself sitting at the edge of the seat, your feet between his legs, the proximity making your pulse race.

“When will you learn that this isn’t a joke,” he exclaims with irritation.

You tilt your head slightly, looking up at him through dolled lashes, doe-eyed and innocent.

“Maybe I need you to teach me, officer.”

The corner of his lips rise as he squats down infront of you, putting one hand on your thigh.

“Think some dick’s gon’ set you straight, huh?”

You erupt in goosebumps, loving the way his warm hands roamed your body.

“mm’yeah. think that’s exactly what i need.”

“Yeah? Alright then, step out of the vehicle,” he orders, not having an ounce of shame as he oogles your ass on your way out.

He pulls out the keys much to your surprise. But he only releases you so you can take off your hoodie, if anything it makes you more confused when he makes you put your hands behind your back instead of infront of you.

“I need sumthin’ to hold on to, don’t I?” he announces casually, like he isn’t talking about fucking someone he just arrested.

He walks you over to the hood of his car where he bends you over, thankful for the short sundress you were wearing underneath that hoodie.

Cassian puts his leg between yours, kicking your feet apart. He pushes your front against the hood of his car, the cold metall cooling your warm skin down.

“If you behave, i’ll let you go, understand?” he asks.

You almost scoff. Of course you’ll behave, it’s your-get-out-of-jail card. But you don’t say that. “Yes, sir. I understand.”

Cassians hold tightens slightly before he tells you how good of a girl you are as he pulls your panties down to your ankles. His hands move to his heavy belt, the belt thudding on the floor as he clips it off.

His hand lands on your ass with a smack, causing you to inhale sharply while showing him your wet, throbbing cunt. You smile secretly as his cock stretches you until he’s fully inside before jerking himself back out. His fucking rough and hard as his nails dig into the soft skin of your hips.

“Look at that, could just slide right in,” he chuckles lowly.

Your sounds of pleasure slipped from your lips as you tugged the metal cuffs around your wrists that were pinning your hands behind your back.

The way his dick was hitting deep, so deliciously hitting that good spot made your eyes roll back. Who knew a cop could fuck this good?

“—feels too fucking good, Cassian,” you moaned out, body covered in goosebumps.

he was giving you long strokes, pushing all the way in and then sliding all the way out leaving only a bit of his tip in every time

“yeah? some dick settin’ you straight,” he lets out when you squeeze around him, dangerously close to creaming on his cock.

You had to agree— his dick definitely made you act right. You almost started thinking about giving up dealing, maybe settle down and live a happy life. THAT is how good he was fucking you.

Cassian pulled out completely causing you to almost scream in frustration. Just a few more pumps and you would have been deliciously weak in the knees.

“No, no, no— put it back in, please,” you begged with low lidded eyes, god, you could almost cry.

“I’m just taking you into the car. Don’t worry, i’ll be so deep in your guts, you’ll never have to worry about me pulling out,” he whispers into your ear before gently biting your lobe.

—

Tears rolled down your face as you cried relentlessly out of pleasure. The windows had fogged up, droplets dripping down.

you whimpered, burying your head deeper into the car seat. he showed you no mercy, jackhammering into you as he shoved your face down, holding you down by your neck.

your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he dragged along your walls, ramming into your g-spot. some drool seeped out of the side of your mouth as his fingers dug into your hips.

“You still with me?” he asks, gently grabbing your neck to see if you’re alive. Cassian speeds up again when you barely manage to nod.

your mind became hazy and eyelids heavy, pathetic whimpers and gasps falling from your lips as you felt yourself slipping away.

“Officer, m’gon cum— can i, please?” You brokenly let out. Not only did you take backshots; he also made you ride, ate you out and had you gagging on his dick. You were exhausted and spent.

“You promise to be good? Hm?”

“Yeah, i promise,” you whine with tears im your eyes, toes curling as you tip over the edge.

“Then you can cum, pretty face.”

a low, guttural sound escapes his throat as he finishes, flooding into your pussy and stuffing you full with his cum before pulling out and smirking as it oozes out of you.

you collapse in the backseat, sweaty skin sticking to the dark leather. cassian runs a hand through his hair before putting his pants back on. a cocky smirk graces his lips at the sight of your fucked out, tired body.

“You’re a fucking terrible cop. Fucking someone you’ve arrested is grounds for termination, you know,” you rasp out quietly after a moment of peaceful quiet, smiling when his smirk lessens as he rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. You just better not let me run into you again. I’ll arrest your ass for real, understand?" he warns, his eyes boring into yours.

"I understand. And I’m sure you will, officer," you nod at him with a smile before gathering your belongings and getting ready to leave.

You kiss him one last time, a filthy, tongue-filled, teasing kiss before you open the door, leaving behind a flustered cop.

Of course, you would sell again. And you would do it especially in his patrol route.

Both him and the dick is far too interesting.

🏷️: @vbbaby-girl @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @azriels-shadowsinger @slut4acotar @clarencetonkin @cherryjain17 @stonerpersona @nobodyb183 @amara-moonlight @cadiawrites @aelinwya @justasillylittlegoofyguy @acourtoflostandwanderingstars @surielstea @cauldronboilmetakemetovelaris @glittervame @juniperberriesaries @bruhhvv @dlveenhassab @marigold-morelli @claireswritingcorner @redbleedingrose @readychilledwine @honeybeefae @danikamariewrites @blipy-blopy @sarawritestories

[likearhinestonecowgirl]

Deadpool Headcanons

cw:: mentions of sex and violence. it's wade lol

description:: goddess reader, wade is your boyfriend >:)

a/n:: wade and i are married irl so this is straight from the source

Wade likely meets you first. which is a nice way of saying he's been stalking you after having a legitimate romcom, slow motion, wind only in HIS (metaphorical) hair moment

once he finally introduces himself, your aggravation only leads (turns) him on

your way of cooing condescending, violent things as you accost this clown(?) sets it in stone - your the love of his fucking life

You shove Wade against the nearest wall. "I'm sure you're a.. special kid, but let's put on our listening caps." Your eyes practically pierce his soul, unblinking, pupils narrow and frustrated. "Go ahead." You release him and pat his head like an order. "On." You wait a beat, make sure he's listening- at least to the best of his ability. "Get in my way again and I will turn you into a fucking vegetable." You whisper yell, hardly realizing your nails are biting his jaw through his mask. "Thank you." With a curt grin and pat to his cheek, you saunter past him.

He grunts as he’s slammed against the wall, staring down at you with furrowed brows and a slowly growing grin. “This is not how my first dates usually go but I’m game.” He blurts out before you start speaking. He tilts his head at the mention of a listening cap, looking down at his hands as if one will materialize before you let him go. He blinks slowly and mimes putting a hat on before his head is shoved back against the wall at the force of your sudden grasp. He grins quickly at the fleeting feeling of nails sinking into flesh, chest heaving a touch before he mourns the loss of the sting almost instantly. As his skin stitches itself back together, he rouses himself from his starry eyed haze and starts after you. “How do you feel about Tahiti—maybe Turks and Caicos, I can’t exactly tan, but I feel like I can just sit out and burn.” He rambles, hot on your heels as he takes a selfish look of you before returning to the task at hand. What was it again? Right—planning your honeymoon. “How do you feel about hydrangeas, they smell like shit but, we could always settle for tulips.” He stops for a beat before continuing. “Fuck, you’re a great negotiator. Fine, we can do orchids.”

Wade is nothing if not good at wearing people down. that's how he eventually gets you to start laughing at his jokes, to smile cheekily instead of burning him with your stare or the venom in your tone

his personality is infectious and soon enough you two are attached at the hip

Despite his CVS receipt of red flags, Wade is a really good boyfriend

Wade is surprisingly attentive, but you truly are the most interesting, beautiful, sexy, delicious, thing that has ever graced his sorry fucking existence so how could he not spend his life fixating on you

he picks up on all the little things you like and goes out of his way to keep you smiling - only happy, fucked out tears are allowed for his girl

you can conjure up whatever you like, being a god, so his money is reserved for surprises - ringpops whenever the last is finished, food because you likely don't know how to cook (why learn when you can will a three course meal into life with a snap of your fingers) and Wade is banned from every kitchen for obvious reasons, and merch of himself with his moniker, name, and/or his symbol on it

Wade can be possessive and jealous to a degree, so showing you off is one of his greatest pleasures

if you wear his hoodie or a little pair of sleep shorts or panties with his name on it, the poor fuck will actually combust. should've worn his white pants

any time you go literally anywhere and meet someone new (ie dragging him along and making him pay for stuff) Wade takes the opportunity to make it known you are his

"Oh, have you met my WIFE?"

He beams to the cashier at the luxury store who truly thought they were about to robbed.

"Yea, she's my WIFE. We're MARRIED. It was a crisp afternoon and she threw me against the wall-"

All while his arm is secured around you, holding you to his side as he thumbs over your hip bone.

he'll likely say you're married before you even start enjoying his company. the moment you accept that unwrapped ring pop definitely covered in blood and lint, those metaphorical documents are signed. it's set in stone like the 11th fucking commandment. you'll be together forever

and you just go along with it. why not? being immortal gets boring after a few millenniums and this strange, poor mentally challenged man in spandex is pretty fun having around

the whole married bit goes on for so long you're not even sure if it's still a bit anymore

Wade uses the sanctity of your marriage in any situation - another guy with a gun on some mission copping a feel? "I'M MARRIED". someone brushes past him on the street? "I'M MARRIED". sees anyone look a little too long at you? "SHE'S MARRIED"

he'd kill and die for you over and over again. say the word and it's a done deal. that hypothetical guy who checked you out a little too long got a face full of gloved knuckles

want to keep his dick in a jar because Wade Jr. obviously brings you so much joy? say less. he knows a guy who can get him formaldehyde cheap

if Wade isn't busy showing you off in public, he's arguing with strangers on reddit about how you very much are his real life WIFE

ilovechappelroan: That's photoshop.

mercwithamouth1: it's not we took that picture together and her tits r real

webhead123: i think it's AI generated. see the blurry line where his cheek is apparently pressed against her head?

ilovechappelroan: Yea, mods should take this down.

mercwithamouth1: i have ur ip and im omw over she'll tell u herself WE ARE MARRIED and she will dox u bc she LOVES ME

webhead123: okay???? i already know where i live lol

"Hold this." Wade orders with a pouty huff and camera at the ready as he hands you a paper that reads i'm not a hostage don't ask me to blink twice

you two bicker and argue over random things (usually because you enjoy a reason to complain as it passes the time in your literally endless existence), but it's never anything of substance and usually under a veil of something condescending any sly

these stupid, teasing spats 9 times out of 10 end up with Wade soothing your brattiness by cooing little phrases and pulling you onto him in any way he can

"Don't pout, you're so sexy- fuck, I can't stay mad at you- what if I let you peg me?"

Wade doesn't mind this routine at all. it's just another reason for him to get his hands on you

he loves holding you, feeling the weight of your body against his - throwing you over his shoulder when you're being a brat, carrying you all day because his girl is "just too pretty walk", sat on his lap, chest, face (when he's been *really* good)

he'll do virtually anything to have you praise him, call yourself mommy and go on about how much of a good boy he is

he in turn responds to that comfort with a few pet names of his own - sweetheart, cupcake, the wind beneath my wings, my will to live or his favorite my future baby mama

nothing in the universe, not even the shittiest of writers he's handed, could take him away from you

he's content just having you, knowing you're his - BUT he does have a little fantasy he's shared a few hundred time of really having you. a pretty thing, a trophy who sits at home and waits for him to walk through the door covered in blood and guts. you can't go outside, it's just not safe out there for his baby, so he'll always be with you. dress you in nice things, show you off, shower you in affection, heed your every whim. you'd be slaves to each other

and why would you protest? sounds fun