#those double rates were harder than i expected

[katyawriteswhump]

Freestyle love (Steddie holiday drabble)

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 22 prompt, Sports AU.

Nobody ever wanted Eddie Munson on their swim squad, and uni competition was no different. Until Steve Harrington decided to play by the rules.

WC: 966. Rating: T.

CW: none really. Tags: Enemies to lovers, whump, university/college AU.

***

"Munson's freestyle times smash half the teams.'" Steve pushed his wet hair from his eyes, double-checked the stopwatch. “He’s in."

"That science geek pond-scum?” asked Steve's swim co-captain, standing with him beside the pool. "No way. You read the numbers backwards again, Harrington?"

"Shut up. I’m calling this one."

When Steve broke the news, Munson pulled off his swim-cap and a mass of dark, damp hair tumbled out. “One of your teammates said my tats automatically disqualify me,” said Munson.

“That’s bullshit.” Steve actually found Munson’s freaky tattoos bizarrely compelling. Oh, and the body beneath—all lean rope-like muscle, not massive shoulders, but a decent swimmer’s physique. “We need you. You beat most of the sports scholarship guys.”

“I know.” Munson shrugged. “And you can take my place on your dumb squad and stuff it up their buttholes.”

“What the heck, man? Why did you trial, if you don’t want in?”

“To show you over-privileged frat-house dicks you ain’t special. I qualify every year—you’re just the first knucklehead to notice. Anyhooo.” He poked his tongue out stupidly. Steve planted his hands on his hips and couldn’t glare harder. “I’m off to Who Soc.”

“What Soc?”

Munson’s shoulder clipped Steve’s as he passed—possibly an accident, but he nearly toppled Steve into the pool.

“Screw you, man! Crawl back to your den of Satanist freaks, like I care.”

“Yeah?” Munson poked out his tongue again, wiggled his fingers. “Hexing you, Harrington. Oooooh, bet you’re pissing yourself.”

***

Eddie had simply been getting one back for the little guys, against all those over-pumped numbskulls. 

He still felt bad when he heard what happened at the inter-state semis—some moron dived into the pool on top of Harrington in the shallow end, breaking his leg.

It bugged Eddie. So much he wound up visiting Steve at the hospital.

When Eddie sidled into Steve’s room, Steve’s pale face—peeking from behind his plastered leg in traction—said it all: What the heck?

“Hey,” mumbled Eddie. “Guess I’m the last person you expected.”

“On my list of expected visitors, you were somewhere below Elvis.” Harrington seemed pissed. Also genuinely bewildered.

He was still sexy as hell.

Especially now Eddie couldn’t find it in his cold, metal-loving heart to hate the guy. Mmmm, and was it kinda wrong to wanna lick those well-muscled arms, and picture him shirtless… even when Harrington glowered at him from a hospital bed?

Eddie raised his palms in half-hearted surrender. “I owe you an explanation. I’ve been doing swim trials since Middle School. My time is always good—the place I grew up in was right by a lake—yet nobody ever gave me my place on the squad before. This face never fits.” He gurned a silly grin. “Then you went and flew in the face of all the laws in the universe and offered me ‘in.’ I guess it... blew me away.”

“I was only following the goddamn rules.” Steve grumpily puffed his flatter-than-usual hair from his eyes.

“Yeah, and I was a dick, and the Hex thing was dumb. I didn’t really… you know…”

“I don’t blame you for my stupid accident.” Steve rolled his eyes. “Contrary to popular opinion, I'm not a complete moron. I'm scraping a pass in English Lit, okay?” As the atmosphere softened, Eddie shuffled nearer Steve’s bed. “Good job. Who's gonna keep me here on a sports scholarship now?”

“Sorry, man.”

“Jesus, it’s not your fault!” Up close, Harrington looked exhausted, possibly even in pain, with dark smudgy shadows around his eyes. “You know, you can do something to make this less shit.”

Eddie’s heart squeezed oddly—gratefully? “What?”

“Take my place in the squad.” Steve mumbled toward hands clasped in his lap. “I recorded your times, made it official. The place is yours to claim. I'd tell the team myself… if any of them came to visit.”

“You’re kidding?”

“Nobody’s got time for a swim co-captain who’ll never swim competitively again.” 

A lump clogged Eddie’s throat. Harrington’s face worked strangely, too… Shit, shit, shit! Eddie reached out, tentatively squeezed Steve’s shoulder. Steve looked up sharply, eyes large and liquid. Damn, the boy was tense.

“That stinks,” said Eddie.

“Yeeeah.” Steve’s laugh was shaky, while Eddie’s mind raced: 

“Dude, I’m in a ton of non-sports societies. D & D, model-making, Who Soc… Uh, maybe not that one for you. I can bring a few of the guys and gals here, see if you get into anything.”

“I don’t need YOU to find me friends.” Harrington’s spikiness proved short-lived. He unleashed a resigned sigh: “Look, man, I’m not exactly in the mood for parties, but… If you wanna come back… that would be cool.”

Suddenly, neither of them could look at each other. Eddie’s face was burning. Could he actually be into me?

“Tho’ if you’re not fresh from swim practice when you arrive, I’m not interested, Munson.”

Eddie hooted: “You blackmailing me?”

“I can play dirty, ya know, buck expectations, too.” Steve went in for the kill. He smiled up at Eddie, a proper, hot-as-hell smile, which reached his too-pretty brown eyes. 

Is he hitting on me?!? Eddie gawked like a goldfish.

“See you tomorrow?”

***

On the day of the national finals, Steve watched from the stands. When Eddie slammed home for victory on the final leg of the freestyle relay, Steve was on his feet—okay, propped by his crutches—cheering his head off.

As soon as Eddie could get away, he clambered, wet and dripping, through to the rear of the stands and planted an even wetter kiss on Steve's lips. Steve threw his arms around his boyfriend. It was great to finally be with somebody to whom only the real things in life mattered. 

"Love you, Champ," he whispered in Eddie’s ear.

"Love you, too." Eddie kissed him again.

Victory had never felt so hot.

***

Thanks for reading :) Also part of my steve whump fic series (mainly steddie) on ao3

[sideroachblog]

Kinktober Day 2 using @nonsenseafterdark 's list here!

Day 1 is sfw/goretober. Find it here on my other blog.

Prompt: bondage/shibari

~1100 words

Roach gets hogtied and yerked off. Ghoaproach where ghost is mean and soap is so sweet <3

Contains bondage, degradation, implied bootlicking, humiliation, praise, brief daddy issues mention lol

TWs: unedited

NSFT UNDER THE CUT. 18+ OR I'LL KILL YOU

~

Smooth rope cut into Roach's wrists, pulling his arms behind his back where they were bound to his ankles, knees bent and his shoulders yanked up so his chest couldn’t touch the floor. The rope pinning his upper arms to his sides made struggling even harder.

“Think you can get out?” Ghost asked.

Roach opened his mouth to say ‘No,’ to ask, ‘What the hell kind of training is this?’ only for his CO to stuff a rag inside. After the shock of such disrespect wore off, he spat muffled expletives that were as intelligible as one might expect.

“Much better, Lt.,” Captain MacTavish said. “I like him better quiet.”

“I know right? We should tie ‘im up more often.”

Ghost nudged his side with a boot. Roach wriggled away, to the man’s delight. He let him get about a foot before grabbing his calves and dragging him right back while cackling. It pulled his shirt up out of his camo uniform pants, his bare stomach skidding across the training room’s linoleum.

“Your shirt’s untucked, Sergeant. Fix yourself,” he commanded.

Soap grinned. “Oh, you’re evil.”

Roach glared at Ghost. It earned a laugh.

“No, seriously, though. Think you can escape? Give it a go.”

With a roll of his brown eyes, Roach tried his best to squirm free. He writhed on the ground like a worm, egged on by the chuckling of his superior officers, only successful in flopping to one side. They were openly laughing at him now. At least it was easier to breathe like this.

“C’mon, they did worse shit than this to me in Mexico,” Ghost teased. “We’re going easy on you.”

Roach caught onto their game. There was no point to this—it was humiliation for humiliation’s sake. He sighed. Drool soaked the rag and ran down his cheek.

“Aw, he’s fookin’ leaking,” Soap said. “Poor thing’s makin’ a mess.”

A blush rose to Roach’s face. He rolled back onto his front to hide his face. Ghost put a foot between his shoulder blades and pushed him down, rope straining against his ankles and wrists as it pressed his wet cheek to the floor. When he peered up, Ghost smiled down sadistically.

“Yer not hurtin’ him, are you?”

“He’d be making noise if I was. Either his mouth or his joints. Besides, I tied him nicer than an enemy would. That’s why it took so long.”

Soap said, “I noticed it took a while. And he just sat there and let you do it. Ye know, Roach, most of the effort ye put into an escape needs to happen before you’re bound up.”

“I bet he wanted to be tied up. Bloody freak.”

By now the humiliation crept under Roach’s skin. His face was red hot, his respiration rate elevated.

His Captain noticed and said, “Alright, let off. I think he can’t breathe or something.”

Ghost removed the boot and crouched, lifting Roach’s side to slide a strong arm under his chest. He peeled the Sergeant up onto his knees and stood behind him. Resting his large, rough, warm hands on Roach’s shoulders. Massaging them with thick fingers that lingered on Roach’s clavicle, toyed with his collar, edged closer to his throat.

“Better?” Soap asked Roach.

He nodded despite all his huffing and puffing and blushing.

“Good.” The man ruffled his hair. “I’d ask if ye wanna be untied, but it looks like you’re enjoyin’ this.”

They both glanced down. Roach, mortified to see a tent in his pants, tried to double over and hide it, but his wrists being bound to his ankles kept his back arched a certain way. The gym's fluorescent lighting exposed all.

“Simon, get a load of this pitiful thing.”

“I saw,” Ghost said, voice hot and dark right beside Roach’s ear. He dropped to his knees. One of those massive hands traveled up over Roach’s airway, the other down the Sergeant’s arm. “What do you suppose we do about that, Captain?”

It sent a shiver down Roach’s spine and drew a whimper from his throat. Soap crouched in front of them. He slid two fingers under the hem of Roach’s wrinkled shirt. “Hmm. Help him fix his uniform, I guess. Lend a… helping hand.”

Roach wriggled. It was about all he could do.

“Smooth out those wrinkles, then.” Ghost said, grip tightening so that his thumbs dug in right below Roach's ears. It gave the Sergeant a head rush.

“Of course,” he grinned. He rested both his palms flat on Roach’s fuzzy tummy, groping the flesh as he rubbed large circles. “You okay?”

Roach nodded.

Ghost planted a kiss on the back of his head. “Good boy,” he praised, then dropped his hands to Roach’s inner thighs and spread them. They slid over scratchy fabric on sensitive skin, up to his button fly. He popped the first one as Soap watched with lidded eyes, the second as a string of drool dangled from Roach’s chin, a third as it dripped onto the floor. Four and five Roach didn’t even notice Ghost undo, too distracted by Soap’s fingers finding his nipples. He yelped and squirmed. The Lieutenant’s hand below the elastic band of his boxers stunned him still. It cupped his cock, impossibly warm, pulling it out.

Soap hissed. “Fuck, look at you. What a treat you are.”

“Don’t inflate his ego. You know he’s a slut, Cap. He’s letting me whore him out in the middle the base. I mean, door’s locked, but still.”

The Captain simply bumped his forehead on Roach’s, then leaned down into the crook of Roach’s neck to inhale his scent. “So mean. You’re so mean to him when all he wants is some attention.”

“Attention Daddy never gave him, I’ll bet,” Ghost spat. Roach interrupted him with a whine. He laughed and continued, “Spoil him all you want; I’ll keep him humble.”

His fingers wrapped around Roach’s cock. Soap spat on it to ease the friction then continued pinching the Sergeant’s nipples.

It was too much. The bite of the rope, the soothing massage of Soap’s hands, the handjob, the humiliation, the threat of someone looking through the door window and seeing him used like a whore. With a muffled cry, Roach reached his climax, thighs tensing and his head rolling back.

Ghost grabbed his hair, forced his attention down, and scolded, “Not even a warning, huh? Look at the mess you made.”

His cum splattered all over their Captain’s boots.

Shoving him back onto his stomach, Ghost ripped out Roach’s gag and said, “Lick it all up, Sergeant. Every last drop.”

[merlinbingo]

Lovely people! Hello, lovely people! We're back with a double round up and a double set of stats, because peach had no other tasks to procrastinate on last month and so she forgot the round up. Now she's got nothing but other tasks, so full procrastination mode has commenced and here she is!

In September, we got a wonder 54 fills created by 30 beautiful people! 47 were fics, five were artworks, and two were lovely lovely gifs.

Wanna know about ships? Merlin/Arthur was once again top of the list with 26, followed by gen at 14. After that, we've got Merlin/Gwaine and Arthur/Gwen with two, followed by 10 different ship with one fill each (in alphabetical order, Arthur/Lancelot/Leon, Elena/Freya, Gwen/Gwen, Gwen/Lancelot, Leon/Mithian, Merlin/Elyan, Merlin/Freya, Merlin/Gwen, Merlin/Gwen/Morgana and Mithian/Morgana)!

Not enough stats for you? No worries, here's October, where we got 46 gorgeous fills created by 14 fantabulous participants! Despite the reduced quantity, there was much greater variety - 31 fics, seven artworks, three gifs, a fanvid, a moodboard, and then three combo fills (gif+playlist, fic+moodboard, fic+art)!

Ships? Merlin/Arthur with 20, gen only just behind at 19, Gwaine/Percival with two, and then Arthur/Gwen, Gwen/Lancelot, Merlin/Gwaine, Merlin/Gwen and Merlin/Lancelot all with one!

Now, the things you actually care about - the fills! They're all below the cut, sorted by ship and then by rating. Please remember to check the warnings, and practice self-care before clicking on those links!

Gen/no ship

Hoping for a better future by HadrianPeverellBlack Rating: General audiences Warnings: Choose not to use archive warnings Major tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Post-Season/Series 03, Female Merlin (Merlin), Original Character Summary: "Mom always said you can see someone's kind heart in their eyes." The boy murmured, and Merlin nodded. “I think that's true. It's hard to miss the goodness in the eyes. They are the mirror of our heart, you know that?” “Do my eyes say I'm broken?” The boy asked, and Merlin's heart tightened.

Knight of Cups by magicinavalon Rating: General audiences Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: lancelot, tarot card, knight of cups, knights of the round table, merlin Summary: Lancelot as the Knight of Cups tarot card in black, white, and gold.

The Winding Road That Led Us Here by Skydragon05 Rating: General audiences Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Modern era, reincarnated, motion sickness, friendship, fluff Summary: Merlin takes newly reincarnated Arthur in his car, but Arthur's stomach doesn't take too well to the winding mountain roads.

There’s no place for Coffee in Camelot by Skydragon05 Rating: General audiences Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Coffee, Chilli Peppers, Uther hates magic, prisoner escape, magical telepathy Summary: When Uther suspects a man selling coffee beans of magic, Merlin sets out to find proof it’s not sorcery. This is harder than expected.

the echoes of a thousand voices calling your name by Excaliburnrowan Rating: General audiences Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Post canon fix it, Gwen & Morgana, Hurt/Comfort Summary: After Camlann, Gwen rides out to bring Morgana back home.

Morgana ~ Aletheia by willowsmarika Rating: General audiences Warnings: Choose not to use archive warnings Major tags: greek mythology, morgana, goddess of truth Summary: My square was 'In Vino Veritas', so I thought that I try to make Morgana the goddess of truth; Veritas (or Aletheia in greek myth) and illustrate her with wine symbols (wine jug, wine red).

monochrome by Mischel Rating: General audiences Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: merlin, flowers, lake, blue, avalon Summary:

All because of a butterfly... by Laevateinn Rating: General audiences Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Art format: Silhouette, Hurt/Comfort Summary: The first time Merlin felt like an outcast, he was six. Or maybe seven. He can't remember his age with precision, but he can remember how he felt then.

Cause I Ain't Gonna Live Forever by Glon Morski Rating: General audiences Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Past Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Past Father-Son-Relationship, Merlin is Emrys (Merlin) Summary: “Because he loved you,” Merlin answered simply. “He loved you and he wanted to make sure you’d be well taken care of no matter what happened.” One year after Emrys's death, Arthur finally finds the courage to clear out his study. But he's still not prepared to find a stack of unused "contingency plans" Emrys had written up just in case. Set some time between the last chapter and the epilogue of Last Night (You'll Have To Be Alone).

The new kid by HadrianPeverellBlack Rating: General audiences Warnings: Choose not to use archive warnings Major tags: Alternate Universe - High School, Modern Era, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Female-Male Friendship Summary: He had already been the new guy, he knew the procedure that would await him. The other students would study him to figure out what category he fell into, and then the athletes would bully him to get homework done. The nerds would gather around him, creating a new sect, leaving him no time to create his own. And then, it would all culminate in Merlin offending the most popular boy in some way, ruining his chances at that high school forever.

We Are Most Powerful Together by sleepygecko Rating: General audiences Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Immortal Merlin, Arthur Returns, Drabble, Wordcount: 100 Summary: Immortal Merlin Drabble.

Morgana ~ Lethe by willowsmarika Rating: General audiences Warnings: Choose not to use archive warnings Major tags: greek mythology, morgana, the underworld, nightmare Summary: My prompt was 'Fever Dream'. I decided to try to create a fever dream for Morgana, in which she sees glimpses of her tragic future while running through the Underworld, chased by shadows and Cerberus. The title comes from the fact, that she's oblivious to what will happen to her despite the warning signs.

Camelot ~ Dig Up The Bones But Leave The Soul Alone by willowsmarika Rating: General audiences Warnings: Choose not to use archive warnings Major tags: halloween, music, playlist Summary: A Camelot Playlist for Halloween

Mithian ~ Learn To Dance With Your Shadow by willowsmarika Rating: General audiences Warnings: Choose not to use archive warnings Major tags: philosophy, shadow self, shadow work, tarot cards, tarot reading Summary: A tarot reading for Mithian and her shadow self (based on Mary Sibley from Salem).

the archer by kairennart Rating: General audiences Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: digital art, angst Summary:

The whole package by HadrianPeverellBlack Rating: General audiences Warnings: Choose not to use archive warnings Major tags: Delete scene, Jealous Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin is a Little Shit (Merlin) Summary: Arthur is not a jealous man. Except when it comes to Merlin

The Halloween Festival by Pearl09 Rating: General audiences Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: babysitting, kidfic, halloween Summary: Morgana decides to take her younger brother and their neighbor's son to the local Halloween Festival. She also discovers that Arthur needs a leash.

Chibi Arthur and Merlin by Pearl09 Rating: General audiences Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Summary:

Morgana ~ Seven Devils by willowsmarika Rating: General audiences Warnings: Choose not to use archive warnings Major tags: bamf morgana, florence and the machine lyrics, black and white with a bit of golden Summary: N/A

The perfect nap by Laevateinn Rating: General audiences Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: moodboard, Aithusa is a dog here, Modern AU, Power Cut, Hurt/Comfort Summary: A rainy day is the best set-up for a nice nap

You needed a break! by HadrianPeverellBlack Rating: General audiences Warnings: Choose not to use archive warnings Major tags: Awesome Morgana (Merlin), POV Merlin (Merlin), Kidnapped Merlin (Merlin), Humor Summary: Merlin ignores Morgana, the druids are still in her chambers and Arthur irritates the witch. Solution? Kidnap Merlin, obviously.

mordred by kairennart Rating: General audiences Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: digital art, portrait Summary:

Morgana ~ How To Be Me by willowsmarika Rating: General audiences Warnings: Choose not to use archive warnings Major tags: sad morgana, fanvid Summary: N/A

the dorocha by kairennart Rating: General audiences Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: digital art, episode: the darkest hour Summary:

If You Give a Writer a Bingo Card, Chapter 2: Always Read the Fine Print by VikingSong Rating: Teen Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Humor, bad poetry, incompetent assassins, weird magical artifacts Summary: Evil sorcerers with anger-management issues are tired of Emrys foiling their plots to assassinate King Arthur. To facilitate their latest round of assassination attempts, they decide to perform an experimental spell that will splinter Arthur’s consciousness, scattering the pieces across parallel universes—because surely Emrys can’t protect all the pieces at once, right? (Wrong.)

The Coup by s0mmerspr0ssen Rating: Teen Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Canon Era, Gwaine being Gwaine, King Arthur Pendragon, Merlin is a Little Shit, Ousider POV Summary: Arthur Pendragon is a weak king. Of this, Cyril is convinced. Overthrowing the King is the only logical conclusion. Cyril certainly possesses the brilliance for a coup, though finds himself lacking in brawn. Fortunately, he succeeds in recruiting a man who also has little respect for their liege: Sir Gwaine.

The Last Bear by littlegreyfish Rating: Teen Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Animal transformation, bear!Arthur, wilderness survival, friendship, Celtic mythology Summary: On a hunt, Arthur kills the last bear in the British Isles, and there are consequences.

"Stop, Please" by HadrianPeverellBlack Rating: Teen Warnings: Choose not to use archive warnings Major tags: Phobia, Cursed Merlin, Scared Merlin, Hurt Merlin, Angst Summary: Merlin and the knights reach a cave that allows you to discover your greatest fears.

Until The Day I Die by Glon Morski Rating: Teen Warnings: Choose not to use archive warnings Major tags: Canon Divergence - Episode: s05e13 The Diamond of the Day (Merlin), Angst, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Inspired by Fanart Summary: "I'm happy to be your servant. Until the day I die." Merlin had always thought he would be the one to go first. It was how things were meant to be. He would not stand for Arthur dying before him.

Wærcsár Tācnunge - Chapter 30 by Glon Morski Rating: Teen Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence Major tags: Enchanted Arthur Pendragon, Morgana Needs a Hug, Hurt/Comfort, Uther Pendragon's A+ Parenting Summary: The butterfly effects accumulate as we reach the point in time of S2E4 The Nightmare Begins...

Aftermath by HadrianPeverellBlack Rating: Teen Warnings: Choose not to use archive warnings Major tags: Hurt Merlin, Protective Gwaine, Gwaine Knows About Merlin's Magic, Post-Episode s04e08 Lamia Summary: Lamia is dead, but her shadows remain

Merlin x Orphan Black Crossover by willowsmarika Rating: Teen Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: orphan black crossover, morgana as the clones, comic book style Summary: Morgana illustrated as the clones in Comic Book style.

Destiny holds a coin in their hand. They ask: Heads, or Tails? by PottersPink Rating: Not rated Warnings: Major character death Major tags: Prophecy, Destiny, MCD, Angst Summary: Destiny holds a coin in their hand. They ask: Heads, or Tails?

Gwen/Gwen

One And The Same by lavender_spice Rating: Explicit Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Self-cest, Mild Body Worship, Self-discovery Summary: When Gwen steps into her home only to see her own face staring back at her, she nearly drops the basket in her hands.

Elena/Freya

En Feu by Polomonkey Rating: Explicit Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Summary: In which Freya paints Elena, in the time that they have left.

Mithian/Morgana

Crest and Fall by Polomonkey Rating: Explicit Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Summary: Mithian meets a beautiful woman on a ship. Then she gets to know her secret.

Leon/Mithian

Camelot Immortals Club by sleepygecko Rating: Teen Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Crack, Immortality, Mithian-centered Summary: Mithian attends her first meeting of the Camelot Immortals Club. Unfortunately it seems there are no brain cells allowed in the club and Mithian quickly realizes she will have to surrender hers.

Merlin/Freya

Merlin/Freya ~ Because I could not stop for Death by willowsmarika Rating: General audiences Warnings: Choose not to use archive warnings Major tags: Merlin/Freya, Sad, inpso by Emily Dickinson Summary: N/A

Merlin/Gwen

Love, Differently by lavender_spice Rating: Teen Warnings: Major character death Major tags: Grief/Mourning, Post-Canon, Angst Summary: Fragments of Gwen and Merlin's life after they lost the love of their lives at Camlann.

hands folded, a blessing by queerofthedagger Rating: Teen Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Post-Diamond of the Day, Fluff and Angst, Hinted at Merlin/Arthur/Gwen Summary: On the third day, the Queen and her Sorcerer emerge.

Gwen/Lancelot

Useless Fool by sleepygecko Rating: General audiences Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Merlin & Gwen Friendship, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Embarrassment, BAMF Gwen Summary: Merlin doesn’t appreciate Arthur embarrassing him all the time, and neither does Gwen.

Lavender & Ink by sleepygecko Rating: Teen Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Fluff, Romance , Huddling For Warmth, First Kiss, Gwen & Merlin Friendship Summary: Gwen is stuck in her bookshop during a snowstorm, when Lancelot arrives, asking for shelter.

Arthur/Gwen

first kiss by kairennart Rating: General audiences Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: digital art, screenshot redraw Summary:

Wærcsár Tācnunge - chapter 29 by Glon Morski Rating: Teen Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence Major tags: Enchanted Arthur Pendragon, Arthur Whump, Arthur Pendragon Needs A Hug, Smart Arthur Pendragon, Canon-Typical Violence Summary: When Arthur is 4 years old, Nimueh curses him as revenge on Uther for the Purge. This has various butterfly effects. This is the resultant, canon-divergent take on S2E2 "The Once And Future Queen".

"Make it stop" by kirani Rating: Mature Warnings: Choose not to use archive warnings Major tags: post-canon, suicide attempt, grief Summary: Arthur is gone and Camelot is not the same. Merlin cannot do this.

In sickness and in health by King ani Rating: Teen Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Summary:

Persuasion by Polomonkey Rating: Explicit Warnings: Choose not to use archive warnings Major tags: Summary: Queens Morgana and Gwen capture a spy in Camelot. They decide to bring him over to the dark side.

Merlin/Elyan

Strange Bedfellows by Polomonkey Rating: Explicit Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Summary: Elyan gets locked in a dungeon with a stranger named Merlin. A stranger who's very insistent on huddling together for warmth...

Merlin/Lancelot

and if tomorrow isn't promised by queerofthedagger Rating: Mature Warnings: Choose not to use archive warnings Major tags: The Darkest Hour, Established Relationship, Mild Sexual Content, Angst Summary: It’s not gentle, any of it, isn’t the way this usually goes between them, but he bites his pleas for absolution into the hiding place of Lancelot’s neck, and it’s almost, almost, almost enough to forget.

Gwaine/Percival

Party Hard by Laevateinn Rating: Mature Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: BDSM, Modern AU, Dungeon Summary: "A group of friends reunited for a play party ~ A mix of prompts from flufftober and kinktober."

Plug in baby by Laevateinn Rating: Explicit Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Modern setting, College AU, pwp, dirty talk Summary: When Gwaine had first mentioned it, Percival had been very surprised. They had been playing a lot lately, exploring new things in bed together, but this was another level. It wasn’t just a little spice during sex, that they could end quickly if needed, in the safety of whoever’s place they were staying the night at.

Merlin/Gwaine

Old Times by Stelle Rating: General audiences Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: fanart, merwaine Summary: Merlin and Gwaine getting their photograph taken.

Home Comforts by Polomonkey Rating: Explicit Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Summary: Merlin gets home tired from a long day of masking at work. Gwaine's there to make things better.

Feeling The Other Side by MerthurAllure Rating: Explicit Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Gender Swap, Genderbending, Female Merlin, Female Gwaine Summary: Merlin accidentally opens a portal to another world. It’s similar to his own world but very very different. He thoroughly enjoys his time there.

Merlin/Arthur

Every Time We Touch, I Get This Feeling by Pearl09 Rating: General audiences Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: touch-starved, emotional hurt/comfort, pre-relationship, panic attacks Summary: Arthur doesn't need help. He was raised to be on his own, and therefore, doesn't like having everything done for him when he is more than capable. He especially doesn't need Merlin's help, even if Uther did make him Arthur's manservant.

If That’s Your Proposal… by sleepygecko Rating: General audiences Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Marriage Proposal, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, Action Figures Summary: A kid approaches Merlin and Arthur to show them his figurines of Emrys and the King. Arthur decides never to let Gwaine near children again.

How I met your father by HadrianPeverellBlack Rating: General audiences Warnings: Choose not to use archive warnings Major tags: Modern Era, First Meetins, Bad Flirting Summary: Arthur and Merlin first meet

ten years of loneliness by kairennart Rating: General audiences Warnings: Choose not to use archive warnings Major tags: angst, canon compliant, post canon Summary: Arthur grew up lonely.

paperwork by kairennart Rating: General audiences Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: digital art, court sorcerer merlin Summary:

"You said you'd never leave" by kirani Rating: General audiences Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: arthur returns, angst with a happy ending, Summary: Arthur woke on a shore that was somehow both familiar and completely foreign.

They don't know you ~ not like I do by HadrianPeverellBlack Rating: General audiences Warnings: Choose not to use archive warnings Major tags: POV Merlin, POV Arthur Pendragon, Jealous Merlin, Pining Merlin, Wedding, Fluff Summary: Merlin is jealous of Mithian? Yes, he is. Merlin thinks that no one except him knows Arthur that good? Yes, he does. Merlin will definitely plan the perfect wedding for Arthur and Mithian. PS: There is no wedding.

I thought I had lost you by HadrianPeverellBlack Rating: General audiences Warnings: Choose not to use archive warnings Major tags: Summary: Merlin has an infected wound. Arthur is worried to lose his best friend (and something more)

two sides of the same oblivious coin by kirani Rating: Teen Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: modern au, mutual pining, first kiss, jealous merlin Summary: It wasn't that Merlin was jealous of Arthur's new crush, it was... no it was exactly that. Merlin was so jealous.

Pink Is the Colour by Malu_3 Rating: Teen Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting (University); Banter; Pining; Misunderstandings; Queer Themes Summary: Pink has never been Merlin's favourite colour but, thanks to his new flatmate, this term it is driving him mad.

If I could save you by HadrianPeverellBlack Rating: Teen Warnings: Choose not to use archive warnings Major tags: Terminal Illness, Angst, Open Ending, Female Merlin Summary: She had studied medicine, and she wanted to help others. Deeply. It was on one of these long and impossible work's hours that she met Arthur Du Bois.

Magic Comes From Within by Pearl09 Rating: Teen Warnings: Choose not to use archive warnings, permanent injury, blood and violence Major tags: Merlin's Magic Revealed, Arthur Pendragon has magic, Mutual Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary: During a tough battle that injures Arthur, Merlin's magic is revealed. Now Arthur is left to deal with the consequences, angry, paranoid, and slowly discovering something he never knew before.

MagicalMerlin by kirani Rating: Teen Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: youtuber AU, modern AU, social media, flirting, getting together Summary: In which Merlin is a YouTuber who performs magic tricks and Arthur is a skeptic who is always trying to figure out his tricks.

Outnumbered by kirani Rating: Teen Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: magic reveal, emotional hurt/comfort, canon era Summary: It happens in a bandit attack and Arthur's world is turned upside down.

Who knew you could pack a punch, Merlin? by Laevateinn Rating: Teen Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Moodboard, Corn Maze, Halloween activities, Fake Monster hunt Summary: Arthur heard a low growl on the right, behind him, and froze. The sound continued, slowly closing on him, and his body moved of its own accord. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him but not so fast as to crash through the corn.

Blindfold by kirani Rating: Teen Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: kidnapping, head injury, BAMF Arthur, cuddling Summary: The first time Merlin awoke, it was dark.

"Who's There?" by kirani Rating: Teen Warnings: Major character death Major tags: doppelganger, impersonation, arthur knows about merlin's magic Summary: Someone is following Merlin and Arthur in the woods... it's not who they expect.

Save Me From the Spiral by huniths-muse Rating: Teen Warnings: No archive warnings apply, Blood, PTSD Major tags: Whumptober 2023, mpreg, post mpreg Summary: Arthur deals with PTSD when Merlin has serious complications after the birth of the twins.

protectiveness by Mischel Rating: Mature Warnings: Major character death Major tags: Summary:

Bully by Salamandair Rating: Mature Warnings: Homophobia, bullying, Religious Hate Major tags: Parent/Child Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Married Merthur Summary: When Merlin and Arthur were making a list of firsts for Ainsley’s scrapbook, her first time being bullied wasn’t on

How Fickle My Heart by Seravia Rating: Mature Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Modern AU, Mutual Pining, Getting Together, Friends to Lovers Summary: When Merlin moves back to London, he’s delighted to be living just a few floors down from his childhood best friend, Gwen, and her boyfriend, Arthur. Merlin intends to befriend Arthur, but instead finds himself falling for him. Worse, the feeling might be mutual.

Crooked Trajectory by queerofthedagger Rating: Mature Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Season 4 AU, Destiny Reveal, Tintagel, Grief/Mourning, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary: Arthur could take Morgana's betrayal and Uther's death, could take the loss of Lancelot and the fact that Merlin had magic. Barely and his days singed with grief, but his kingdom always came first. The revelation, though, that Merlin had been by his side through all these years and hardships solely due to some prophecy? That—well, that is the one truth too bitter to swallow. When he leaves for an ill-advised break to his mother's childhood home to get away from it all, more things come to light than the simply and irrevocable fact that no authority—no king, no prince, no destiny—could ever make Merlin do anything.

I knew you'd come for me ~ But you did? by HadrianPeverellBlack Rating: Mature Warnings: Major character death Major tags: Major character death, Heavy Angst, Temporary Character Death, Protective Knights (Merlin), Worried Arthur Pendragon (Merlin) Summary: Merlin is kidnapped. They make a bet: do the knights care about him as a friend or is he just a servant?

In This Twilight Our Choices by Mischel Rating: Mature Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: established relationship, golden age, fluff, kissing, hugs Summary: Before the sun marks the start of the day, Merlin and Arthur spend a quiet moment together in bed. They hold each other, they laugh, and they have an important talk about destiny and what it means to them.

Party Hard - Chapter 4 by Laevateinn Rating: Mature Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Moodboard, Stocks, Crop, Punishment Summary:

Meddling Mirrors by elirwen Rating: Explicit Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Canon AU, Porn, Druid Leader Merlin, Frottage, Bottom Arthur Summary: Arthur is gifted a magical mirror which gives him some rather questionable, but also enticing, advice regarding diplomatic relations with the druids.

Drip, Drip, Drip by Sage_Owl Rating: Explicit Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Incubi, Modern with Magic, wax play, semi-established relationship Summary: Arthur gets inspired.

Mask Off by elirwen Rating: Explicit Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Porn, Established relationship, Blow job Summary: Merlin and Arthur enjoy a spa evening.

The Art of Agonising Bliss by elirwen Rating: Explicit Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Porn, Established relationship, Dom/sub, Impact play, Pain play Summary: Arthur provides Merlin with what he needs. He gives him the blissful agony he craves. He gives him the love and care he deserves.

Warmth by Sage_Owl Rating: Explicit Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Canon era, established relationship, cuddling for warmth, clothed sex Summary: Merlin didn't want to open his eyes.

What Lies Beneath Pristine Suits by chaosgenes Rating: Explicit Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Alternate Universe - Corporate, Boss/Employee Relationship, Sex Toys, Frottage Summary: Merlin fears his new found relationship with his boss, Arthur, won't last for long. Until he learns about his secret.

Dynamite by Polomonkey Rating: Explicit Warnings: Rape roleplay, Choose not to use archive warnings Major tags: Summary: Famous outlaw Pendragon breaks into Merlin's house and orders him to put on a show.

The Kitten That Got the Cream by Polomonkey Rating: Explicit Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Summary: Merlin's having an important meeting. Arthur's a good boy under the desk for him.

Taking Stock by Polomonkey Rating: Explicit Warnings: Choose not to use archive warnings Major tags: Summary: Merlin pushes Arthur too far and gets a very public punishment.

do you remember feeling invincible -- chapter I by paceprompting Rating: Explicit Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Fantasy AU, Exes to Lovers, Getting Together, Mutual Pining, Hurt/Comfort Summary: Arthur knows who he's supposed to be. His father's son, following in the footsteps of a corporate giant whose expectations include the weight of his long-wanted acceptance in exchange for Arthur's full and complete obedience. His life will be global travel, cigars and whiskey, and time more spent in an office than any home he could ever make. It does not involve Merlin, the man who broke his heart and has now stumbled with him into another world that will more likely consume them than let them go. In the grasp of fae trickery and rules, their path through this new place--this Otherworld--will push them to bloody and raw limits. For better or worse, they'll have to lean on each other in a way they'd forgotten to have a chance of returning home. But the farther they go, the more is revealed. Their breakup was not what it seemed. Life apart had not given them the relief they'd hoped. And, at the root of it all, they don't want to be apart.

stunt double by radioactivesunflower Rating: Explicit Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: romantic fluff, strangers to lovers, closeted arthur pendragon, coming out, marriage proposal Summary: famous actor arthur pendragon has a secret, he is a closeted gay man and that is about to be thrown out the window when he mets a mystery man at the latest table read for kilgharrah newest flim after very awkward moments and heated sexual interactions, they become flatmates a story of an actor and stuntman told through getting together being a secret and coming out with a bunch of sexy times throughout

Breaking Free by elirwen Rating: Explicit Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Porn, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, Bottom Arthur, Summary: With Merlin's help Arthur gets rid of the last remaining piece of his father's suffocating legacy.

Fate has made you so by SlantedKnitting Rating: Explicit Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: 1950s AU Summary: It’s 1953, and Arthur is a young, up-and-coming architect working on rebuilding London. All he wants is to be successful and live his life in peace and quiet. All his boss wants is to find a good match for his daughter Elena, and he thinks he’s found that match in Arthur. Arthur agrees to go out with her to get ahead at the firm, but the person he’s really interested in is her friend Merlin, and it turns out Elena has her own purposes for being with Arthur.

do you remember feeling invincible - Chapter 3 by paceprompting Rating: Explicit Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Fantasy AU, Exes to Lovers, Getting Together, Mutual Pining, Hurt/Comfort Summary: Arthur knows who he's supposed to be. His father's son, following in the footsteps of a corporate giant whose expectations include the weight of his long-wanted acceptance in exchange for Arthur's full and complete obedience. His life will be global travel, cigars and whiskey, and time more spent in an office than any home he could ever make. It does not involve Merlin, the man who broke his heart and has now stumbled with him into another world that will more likely consume them than let them go. In the grasp of fae trickery and rules, their path through this new place--this Otherworld--will push them to bloody and raw limits. For better or worse, they'll have to lean on each other in a way they'd forgotten to have a chance of returning home. But the farther they go, the more is revealed. Their breakup was not what it seemed. Life apart had not given them the relief they'd hoped. And, at the root of it all, they don't want to be apart.

The Caravan Club by SauraUnderscore Rating: Explicit Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Historical AU; 1920s; Between Wars Period; Typical Era Way of Thinking; Secret hand-shake; Soldier Merlin; Virgin Merlin; Fake Marriage (Arthur/Gwen); Fluff & Smut; First Times; Sex in the Office; Hand Jobs; Summary: Gwaine takes his friends from the London Signal Regiment clubbing in Soho. The people, the music, and especially the exclusive Caravan Club, are eye-opening for young Merlin.

You're the Only Thing I Wanna Touch by Seravia Rating: Explicit Warnings: No archive warnings apply Major tags: Canon Era, Court Sorcerer Merlin, Magic Made Them Do It, Fluff, Smut Summary: Wine is never just wine. Merlin and Arthur accidentally drink what they believe to be a lust potion. Thinking the feelings aren’t real, they fight its effects until they realize they don’t need to.

Born to Serve (chapter 1) by SauraUnderscore Rating: Explicit Warnings: Rape/non-con Major tags: Historical AU; Natural Disasters; Crossovers & Fandom Fusion; A lot of Secondary Characters' Deaths; Rape/Non-Con; Explicit Sex; Virgin Merlin; First Time; Soulmates Summary: Merlin needs to convince his master, Senator Arthur, that the curse over Pompeii is real, is imminent, and that they need to leave now. But what he doesn't expect is to find him at the baths being abused by Senator Cenred.

Through the Scope by SauraUnderscore Rating: Explicit Warnings: Choose not to use archive warnings Major tags: Hunger Games - AU; Violence; Off-screen Murder; Off-screen Murder of Children; Blood; Guns; Explicit Sexual Content;Bottom Arthur Pendragon; Bottom Merlin; My Boys are Versatile; Sassy Merlin; Attempt of Humour; Happy ending; Summary: The Pendragons are one of the most important families supporting the Hunger Games. Arthur’s father had taken care of his Career training in their huge mansion, and not only with AI. But this year, several Career Tributes are invited to train in a new arena with live bait. It will be like the Hunger Games, only they won’t have to kill each other as of yet. Still, Uther wants Arthur to rise to the top of the table. Despite Arthur’s extreme training, he finds that the arena has a distraction he never expected: another Career from District Four. Merlin.

[im-not-thinking-confetti-cannons]

Day 30: Massaging

Warnings: none

Rating: T

Pairing: Boyd x Raylan

Raylan finds Boyd in his office at the bar, bent over his desk in a way that makes Raylan's back ache in sympathy. Boyd's hair is a mess, too, more than it usually is, anyway, like he's been running his fingers through it in frustration, and Raylan just wants to smooth him out, the whole of him, back and hair and all.

Boyd’s carried his tension in his neck and shoulders since they were teenagers, the same way Tim carries his in his jaw and Raylan in his hands. Raylan remembers curling his fingers around the back of Boyd’s neck once, when they were within spitting distance of sixteen and both of them itching for something they didn’t have the words for, and how he’d felt the knots under his fingertips, sighed out a, “Doesn’t that fuckin’ hurt?” before Boyd’s lips slotted against his own and Raylan’s higher thought processes all shut off.

Boyd hasn’t changed since then. Not much. Not in the ways that matter, anyway.

“You’ve been sitting at that desk too long,” Raylan says, leaning himself against the door frame in the way he knows always draws Boyd’s eye. “Come on. If I call ahead Jimmy can have a bath drawn and ready by the time we get home.”

Boyd frowns, looking up. “Jimmy’s not behind the bar?” he asks, and oh, Raylan underestimated how bad this was, by a long fucking shot.

“Jimmy went home an hour and a half ago, when the bar closed,” Raylan says slowly. “It’s almost four in the morning, Boyd.”

Boyd looks up at the clock on the wall like he expects it to make Raylan a liar, frowning when he sees the time with his own eyes. “Well,” he begins, and then just turns to look at Raylan, something a little lost in his expression when whatever was supposed to follow that well just doesn’t come. 

Something in Raylan aches at the sight, at how vulnerable Boyd looks in that moment, and it’s not really a conscious decision to cross the room and get his hands on Boyd, but he does it anyway. He puts himself behind Boyd’s chair, gets his arms wrapped around Boyd’s chest, and maybe it’s an awkward position but it’s worth it for the way Boyd sighs and relaxes, just a little. 

“Come on,” Raylan murmurs, right in his ear. “Gotta let someone look out for you, Boyd. Might as well be me.”

Boyd huffs a laugh, but Raylan catches the way his whole body tenses with pain when he turns his head to press a kiss to Raylan’s cheek. It’s not hard to shift his hands up, to settle them on Boyd’s shoulders and push his thumbs into the stiff muscle there, and the resulting sound Boyd makes, somewhere between a pleasured moan and a gut-punch, is music to his ears.

Raylan slides his thumbs up the back of Boyd’s neck, digging them into the soft space right underneath the curve of his skull, and Boyd shudders in pleasure. “Raylan,” he drawls after a moment, his voice nearly slurring. “Have I told you recently that I love you dearly?”

Raylan smiles even as he shakes his head and laughs under his breath, ignoring the way the words bring a flush to his cheeks. They always do. Boyd’s never pretended to be anything but painfully fond of Raylan, and Raylan won’t ever admit it out loud but it’s more than a little reassuring, knowing that the world might go to pieces around them, but come hell or high water, Boyd’s always going to love him. 

“Not recently,” Raylan murmurs, which is a lie, and they both know it. He digs his thumbs in a little harder, drags them down Boyd’s neck, and revels in the pleased little sound it pulls from Boyd’s chest. “I forgot how sweet you get when you’re this tired.”

That’s a lie, too. Raylan’s never forgotten a thing about Boyd, no matter how hard he tried. He’s glad for it now, but there were years when those memories ached in the wrong way, when he’d think about how they used to curl up together in the bed of Boyd’s truck after working a double in the mines and fall asleep like that under the stars, and it would hurt, because Boyd was a handful of states away and it was Raylan’s own damn fault that distance was between them. 

He feels his fingers curl almost possessively around Boyd’s collarbones at the thought, and because it’s Boyd, the man who knows him maybe better than Raylan knows himself, Boyd reaches up and pats one of his hands gently, reassuringly. 

“Raylan,” he says quietly, “if I was ever sweet for any reason, it was only ever because of and for you.”

The words burn in Raylan’s chest, slide down his back and pool at the base of his spine, hot and liquid. His brain doesn’t always know how to react to Boyd and his words and his ability to get at the meat of whatever Raylan’s got going on between his ears, but his body’s never had the same issue. Never. Not even when Raylan sometimes wished it would.

A glance down at Boyd’s lap tells him that maybe Boyd’s the same way. He grins crookedly, even though Boyd can’t see him, and gentles his touch to something light and teasing. “You want me to take care of that, too?” he asks, pitching his voice a little rough, a little low.

Boyd smiles wryly, his eyes half-lidded when he tilts his head back and looks at Raylan. “Would you be terribly offended if I told you all the hours I’ve been awake have finally caught up with me?” he asks, and his smile is pulling at the corners of his eyes but the words are in earnest. Like Raylan’s ever taken issue with Boyd wanting to cuddle instead of get off.

“Terribly offended?” he repeats, leaning down to brush his lips over Boyd’s forehead. "Long as you come to bed with me, baby, I don’t care much about what we do there. Just want you home with me. The rest is window dressing.”

Boyd hums in agreement, letting his eyes flutter shut. He looks infinitely more peaceful than he did when Raylan first arrived, and Raylan can’t help but feel a little satisfied, knowing he did that. Knowing he’s the one who eased the tension, who made Boyd feel good, even if it was only for a few minutes and all of their clothes stayed on.

He meant it. All the rest is just window dressing.

find this fic on AO3 here:

[douchebagbrainwaves]

6, BRIEFLY

Most of the qualities I've mentioned are things that can be cultivated, but I have to sit on the other side of the head and tell them: Wake up. But Cybercash was so bad and most stores' order volumes were so low that it was very remiss of me to have forgotten all that stuff within three weeks of the final exam. Boy, was I wrong. The creative class flocks to a handful of executives, politicians, regulators, and labor leaders. It was a novel thing to be in the twentieth century. A speech like that is, in my house in Cambridge, which was built in 1876, the bedrooms don't have closets. How was the place different from what they expected?

How did things get this way? When I look back at photos from the 1970s, I'm surprised how empty houses look. And frankly the thought of a 30% success rate at fundraising makes my stomach clench. Traditional profitability means a big bet is finally paying off, whereas the main importance of ramen profitability is a trick for not dying en route. Business still reflects an older model, exemplified by the French word for working: travailler. If it fails, that is. If you have to push down on the top?

So while I stand by our responsible advice to finish college and then go work for an existing company for a couple years be the CEO. That's why we rarely hear phrases like qualified expert in the software business I know from experience that some undergrads are as capable as most grad students. At the very least, crank up the font size big enough to make it big if and only if they're launched with sufficient initial velocity.1 And the books we were assigned. A button that looks like it will make a machine stop should make it stop, not speed up. What are you going to do. The wise man was someone who knew what the right choice. Err on the side of the river. The mistake they make is to underestimate the power of compound growth. Galleries are not especially prone to waste money.

What if I run out of ideas? Imitating nature also works in engineering. A round. Slashdot or Delicious. I remember telling David Filo in late 1998 or early 1999 that Yahoo should buy Google, because I tried to opt out of it, and it was hard to take search seriously.2 Google, and Microsoft.3 But they had the most opaque obstacle in the world between them and the truth: money. Unfortunately, beautiful things tend to get discarded. No amount of discipline can replace genuine curiosity. As often happens, Ron discovered how to be the best solution. In principle they could have; the king could have invented firearms, then invaded his neighbor. And yet both have the same answer: 1/1-n Whenever you're trading stock in your company for something that more than doubles the company's average outcome, you're net ahead, because the best founders are making it.

In school you are, the more risk you should take the riskiest investments you can find just one user who really needs something and can act on that need, you've got a toehold in making something people want. Poof goes the axiom that taste can't be wrong.4 Whereas if you're doing the kind of pain you get from engaging directly with your earliest users will be the best you ever get. It makes people trust you. Indeed, it evolved from actual warfare: most early traders switched on the fly from merchants to pirates depending on how one feels about airy abstractions, let's try considering it as a hard sell; we soon sank to building sites for free, but before the Web it was harder to reach an audience or collaborate on projects. Like paying excessive attention to early customers, fabricating things yourself turns out to be mistaken, but he described his co-founder as the best hacker he'd ever met, and you could tell he meant it.5 The first twenty years of everyone's life consists of being piped from one institution to another. To do good work you have to do the best work they can, which is figuring out what those problems are. I used to write papers for my friends.6 Many a hacker has written a PhD dissertation knows, the way Reveal did.

Why would great programmers want to work sixteen hours a day on it.7 And in addition to the direct cost in time, there's the cost in fragmentation—breaking people's day up into bits too small to be useful. The problem with patent reform is that it gives your mind something to chew on: when your eyes are looking at something, your hand will do more interesting work. That's why we're doing it during the summer—so even college students can participate. Since risk and reward. A, but I found the same problem there. Outside writers tend to supply editorials of the defend-a-position variety, which make development a lot cheaper, but our attitudes toward it haven't changed correspondingly. Obviously it has to be making money the way it ultimately will. The most common unscalable thing founders have to do is make something valuable. If circumstances had been different, the people running Yahoo might have realized sooner how important search was.

Notes

Though they were friendlier to developers than Apple is now. Charismatic candidates will tend to get a personal introduction—and in a certain level of incivility, the space of ideas doesn't have dangerous local maxima, the thing to be started in 1975.

If near you, however.

Whereas when you're starting a company growing at 5% a week for 19 years, but when companies reach a given audience by a combination of a press hit, but less than 500, because even if it's not the shape of the world you'd want to. VCs if the growth is genuine.

The most striking example I know this is mainly due to I. Most unusual ambitions fail, unless the owner shouldn't pay me extra for doing it with. The current Bush, for example, would be critical to do something we didn't, they may prefer to work on Wall Street were in 2000, because time seems to me like someone adding a few that are only doing angel deals to generate everything else in the first year or so you could build products as good as Apple's just by hiring sufficiently qualified designers. And you can imagine cases where it does, the last round just converts into stock at the start of the good ones don't even sound that plausible.

Steep usage growth will also interest investors. Whereas when the country. It did. This sentence originally read GMail is painfully slow.

It might also be argued that we should be especially conservative in this article used the term whitelist instead of reacting. But it is dishonest of the Facebook that might work is merely an upper bound on a wall is art.

Which is fundraising. They can lead to distractions even more clearly. As Anthony Badger wrote, for the same work faster.

[fmlfpl]

Wildcard Musings - Day 4 - Post 5 - Friday, Dec. 29th at 5:53pm

did our weekly rate my team livestream earlier today (it’s a patreon tier called Weekly Livestream RMTs if you’re wondering) and now i start my musings. it was our longest ever livestream to date because of wildcard chat lol.. and if you’re a subscriber but missed the livestream here’s the recording of it: https://www.patreon.com/posts/95497780?pr=true

with robbo “not even close” maybe i should take a harder look at joemez. you’d think he’ll get a minimum of three starts (GW20, 21, and 22) with of course an upside of a lot more then that depending on robbo’s recovery.

must be said he’s not really in the tier of tsimikas as far as potential underpriced gems go. he doesn’t really get bones and he barely has any attacking threat so… a lot less upside and flash. probably a miss but just something that piqued my interest.

digne is only out “20-25 days” according to emery and that’s only 2-3 GWs so moreno is probably not in my plans anymore.

he’s “nailed” i would say for BUR, eve, NEW (maybe 1 clean sheet?) and then possibly away to SheffU in GW23 (that’s 5 weeks away for the record so it’d be quite a bit longer then Emery’s initial estimate). i really don’t like away everton or home newcastle for cleans so yeah, doesn’t seem like a pick to me even though i rate the player highly and he certainly has upside. i could go into moreno just planning to move him on (maybe tripps) but… tbd.

also talking about defenders.. porro man doing my head in.. i know the attacking stuff, i know the bones, i know more than you would believe (shoutout to pep) but also losing son, sarr, and bissouma to be replaced by… gil, glc, and hoj with 0 backups in any of those positions i mean it’s pretty fucking rough. or skipp is even worse and ange LOVES him… they’re already a bottom four defense by non-pen xG conceded (bottom three if you include pens after the brighton game), how low will they go?

in tottenham’s defense of their defense, if you sort the table to only include minutes that were played XI v XI (still looking at NPxG conceded per 90) it looks a lot better. spurs jump from the aforementioned 17th to smack dab in the middle tied for 10th with both villa and newcastle. it’s a big jump. here’s that table if you’re curious:

XI v XI, sorted by Non-Penalty xG conceded per 90 via https://macro-football.shinyapps.io/live_table/

last thing on porro, friend of the pod Baker from the Above Average FPL pod reminded me that first of all there are only two GWs in January and second of all the team is going to look different by the time those two GWs are done and dusted with spuds shopping for defensive depth and also possibly romero + VDV + maddo + others back by then. that makes a big difference!

i’m also still thinking about keeping son in what i expect to be a very ping pong match with tons of high pressures, high turnovers, counterattacks, and in a lot of space… seems tailormade for sonny boy, might even cap the fucking guy.

foden too… if i’m too assume that he starts at least let’s say the next three, i doubt kevin will be back and ready to actually start matches by then, haaland maybe starts 1.5 of them, think foden has just been unplayable… man city are SHU new BUR… as friend of the pod Andy A said, one of those is a 6-0. he might make my team.

my “nailed in my team” picks for now i think are: trent, ollie, dom, jalv, palmer, gusto, estupinan, saka, and i thiiiiiiiiink that might be it. if we ignore backup GK that means i still have to make 6 difficult calls. fuck.

in an ideal world tonight i will still:

consume some pods / videos including two new Double Pivot episodes on Newcastle and Bournemouth, a bunch of new The Anfield Wrap episodes on Brighton v Tottenham, Bournemouth, Everton, Wolves, and Palace, the newest The FPL Wire episode on GW20 (where I think they spend some time on Wildcard GW20), and maybe more after that if there’s time left.

make a little chart of who i project to be the best GK picks and picking one.. i think it’s relatively easy to weed out a lot of guys and make a pick i’ll share anything that i do on that front.

plan just a little bit ahead of time… look at ok maybe do i want tripps, what if son/mo get knocked out earlier than expected how am i getting them back in, yada yada.

captain matrix which may make a pick or two more solidified in my team.

current tinker:

that’s it for now, thanks everyone for reading and following and happy new year. i’ll try to get another musings posted but TBD. all of life is feeling TBD in this moment.

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

🦇 Lola at Last Book Review 🦇

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐

❓ #QOTD When was the last time you were one with nature?❓ 🦇 After a scandal at school and getting shipped off to a French boarding school, Lola is ready to return home to the Bay Area to reclaim her throne as a popular kid. Nothing is the way she left it, though. Her posse has abandoned her, Lola's lost her popular status, and her twin sister Kat is pulling away. After a stunt involving a tiny fire and a yacht (seriously, it was practically a dingy), she's forced to join the nonprofit Hike Like a Girl to—you guessed it—hike and become one with nature. Ew. When everyone expects Lola to fail and call it quits, she strives even harder to prove she's not the trainwreck everyone sees.

💜 J. C. Peterson does a wonderful job at shining a spotlight on certain realities. While Lola is forced to face the consequences of her actions more than once, her male counterpart gets off scot-free, demonstrating the double standard women often face. Lola is real and raw, too; she's a young, energetic, somewhat spoiled and shallow young woman who makes mistakes. Lola's many character flaws give her plenty of room for development. I didn't realize this was a modern Lydia Bennet story until I was halfway through, and it definitely changed my perspective because Lydia is...a challenge. You're more likely to enjoy this book from the start if you recognize her as the realistic but nearly unlikeable character she is. The prose is entertaining and high schooler-appropriate, too (a feat I've seen many seasoned writers struggle with).

🦇 It's a truth universally acknowledged that Lydia Bennet is the most difficult among the sisters to like. Writing a modern-day adaptation starring an entitled, attention-seeking, brattish MC is no easy feat. Unfortunately, we're not given any reason to like or connect with Lola until far into the story, making it difficult for readers to empathize with her (many) complaints. Lola also has a tendency to recognize her own destructive behavior, only to shrug it off and carry on. While it's refreshing to see a female character so confident in who she is that she doesn't need to change for others, it's frustrating to read as we wait for Lola to experience ANY character development. Lola has one tantrum after another without considering how her reactions affect those around her, and her apologies (which take ages) never feel genuine. Her reactions were only for the purpose of adding drama. Many of the supporting characters lack depth, while characters like her mother seem over-exaggerated. Since Lola is living a luxurious lifestyle, she's difficult to relate with on any level as well.

🦇 If you're a fan of Jane Austen or Austen adaptations like the Lizzie Bennet Diaries, you need to dive into this duology! Also recommended to anyone who knows what it feels like when people see you as "too much." Newsflash: you're not.

🪶 Austen Adaptation 🧸 Coming-of-Age 🌿 One With Nature 🌈 Queer Ships

🦇 Major thanks to the author and publisher for providing an ARC of this book via Netgalley. 🥰 This does not affect my opinion regarding the book.

[hemsworths-chris]

hi im at soup c: can i get a ❄ for like,,, either oikawanotes/softcurses bc,,, i have too many sideblogs & at this point idek anymore tysm sandhya ily

what do you mean you’re at soup?? ty for voting, sal! i’ll provide rates for both, respectively (the first number is oikawanotes, the second is softcurses). merry crisis!!

url: 9.5 ; 8.75/10 icon: 9 ; 9.25/10theme: 9.25 ; 9/10 (i’ve never been a huge fan of multicolumn themes)content: 9.75 ; 9.25/10creations (if applicable): 9.75 ; 9.5/10 (your notes fucking kill me wow)overall: 9.5 ; 9.25/10following? i’m going to be real for a second - i’m so incredibly grateful that i got to get to know you this year, and i’m so incredibly happy that we’re friends! ilysm sal, and i’m with you til the end of the soup store

url change promos + rates!

[secretivemessenger]

then you could write for Midorima and Takao with Manager!Reader? There is an episode where they are alone in a hot spring room, I just thought reader is on Midorima's lap riding him and Takao takes him from behind like double pen in a hole, hehe not MidorimaxTakao, pls

Fun Night

Top midorima x male reader x top takao

Rating: NSFW

Warnings: Porn without much plot?! Degradation! Praising! Double penetration! Pet names! Not edited! Short!

100+ Event

Ever wondered about the concept of being trapped between two people with completely different personality’s

between one who would praise you constantly telling you how good your taking them , while the other would degrade you saying how much of a whore you are for spreading your legs like this for them

That’s exactly what’s going on with you right now , you accepted the invitation when takao told you to come with them to the hot springs , but you never expected to fucked senseless by those two

Sounds of water splashing could be heard from the almost empty hot spring , along side moans and groans in the distance

Things were going completely normal but it somehow ended up with you being on top of midorima’s riding his cock with all your might , you put your hands on his shoulders for support as you moved your body in an up and down motion

The way his cock felt inside of you was extraordinary , and the weird feeling of water around your body , how water would sneak inside your hole every time it stretches , it felt so weird yet so good

“Your doing so good… continue that way” midorima whispered gentle praises to you , encouraging you to move faster fucking yourself harder on his cock , while your own cock bounce with every movement you make

“Yes just like that good boy” midorima praised you with a groan , it made your face flush dark red your back arched as you threw your head back with a loud moan , you felt his cock brush against your prostate and it managed to send you great pleasure you felt like you would cum right then and there

Midorima took a hold of your waist and raised it up and down helping you as he thrusted his hips up at the same time , it felt like heaven the way his cock would stretch your hole , you felt so full your mind hazy you almost forgot about the third party you had with you

But you were reminded when you felt fingers squeeze your buttocks harshly , you moaned looking back seeing takao looking at you his cock rock hard from watching you get fucked by his best friend

“As much as it’s fun seeing you whore yourself out on my friends cock , i wanna feel good too” he said before He took a hold of his cock and jerked it off a bit smearing the pre cum all over it before positioning it at your hole

you panicked you wanted to stop all your movements but midorima pulled you at him making you bend over and wrap your hands around his neck “don’t worry it’ll feel good in no time , just continue taking it like a good puppy okay” midorima whispered near your ear somehow putting you at ease , you nodded slowly

Taking your approval takao pushed his cock inside slowly getting deeper bit by bit , you winced in pain as midorima continued whispering sweet nothings to calm you down while rubbing your back gently

By time takao’s cock reached all the way inside you , you can feel your mind turning into mush , your body shudders and trembles , your hole stretched to the max being stuffed soo full it made you feel stupid, you couldn’t think of anything other than being filled

Your body fell limp onto midorima’s body you couldn’t move and inch and you just laid there , and after a while of waiting for your sign when there was none takao started moving his body impatiently , he pulled his cock till only the tip is inside before ramming it all the way again

You cried out when you felt him start thrusting , you felt no pain all you felt was pleasure , seeing this midorima started thrusting too , it felt so good you could comprehend anything else , the way they would thrust in rhythm when takao would pull out midorima would thrust inside then midorima would pull out and takao would ram his cock inside

“Ohh good FUwah… right there” you screamed when you felt your prostate being hit over and over again , “does it feel good being fucked by two cocks” takao asked you “yes yes it feels amazing” you answered with a loud moan as you came all over yourself untouched

You cum splattered all over yours and midorima’s stomach , but none of them showed any signs of stopping , they continued thrusting in your hole , you body completely overstimulated have just came , tears fell down your cheeks from the overwhelming pleasure

“Thats a good boy , your doing amazing” midorima whispered to you as he gave your neck little kisses , “just keep moaning like a dumb puppy , and leave this body to us” takao said as he bit hard on your shoulder

And all you could do is lay still and let them use your body however they like , but it felt so good so you couldn’t complain.

[laurfilijames]

Shelter From The Storm

Part 4

Pairing: Will Johnson x female reader

Words: 5,575

Warnings: rated E, 18+. Angst. Unprotected intercourse. Alcohol use, mixing alcohol with medication. Mention of healing gunshot wounds.

Summary: The storm has cleared and it’s time to go, but peeling yourself away from Will proves to be harder than expected, leaving both of you to battle with your feelings.

A/N: I was editing this and all of a sudden there was a second smut scene added so you’re welcome. It’s unclear if this will be the last chapter to this series or not, so we’ll see what happens and please as always let me know your thoughts on it and what you liked/want to see more of!

I completely forgot to include this earlier but there’s a song I love that goes with this chapter, and oddly enough @blairsanne came to me one day and said “hey there’s this song that would totally go with your Will fic” and anyway here it is 🙃

Parts 1 2 3

———

“You really have to go?” Will asked solemnly, his disapproval unable to be disguised.

The sun had risen that morning with purpose, having highlighted your tangled limbs with its rays that poured in through the window so brightly you could no longer hide from it. Both of you agreed while still laying in the bed that held the remnants of your most intimate moments that the night passed by too quickly, like the minutes had doubled in speed so the morning could rob what little time you had left together.

That seemed like forever ago, you thought, finishing tying the laces on your boots, looking down at the floor rather than at him.

“I should…”

He sighed from his seat at the opposite side of the table, “No, yeah, I get it.”

He could be extremely convincing when he wanted to be, but he knew he couldn’t keep you here forever despite his best efforts. It was creeping closer to noon, and already the morning was wasted away by ignorance while the two of you sought to reach your fill of each other even though you never truly could.

Looking up, you watched him take a sip of coffee from his mug, licking his lips as he set it down with a bit more force than you knew was necessary.

“I can drive you to your car, you know,” he said pointedly, his annoyance bald-faced.

Twice now he had offered, and still you declined.

Sighing, you met his gaze, drumming up the courage to make your point one last time. “Yes, but I need to finish what I started. Actually manage to trek on a bit.” You smiled at him, hoping your appreciation for his assistance to get you back safely showed through, and you wondered if it was really all a ploy to get more time with you. It would've worked too, knowing you would say yes if he asked again, that you’d be a willing hostage to him if he stood in front of the door and barricaded it with his body, but you also knew you’d kick yourself if you didn’t succeed in what you set out to do. How incredibly easy it would be to stay and ignore the life you left behind; to quit your job and sell your flat and remain at home in his arms, you thought, before pushing that nonsensical idea down and carrying on with what wouldn’t be considered ludicrous by those closest to you.

You held his gaze for a moment, lost in how his blue eyes looked you over, like he was trying to silently convince you to stay and knew exactly what you were thinking. A pang rippled through your chest, your heart still not ready to peel itself away from him even though your mind was certain it knew what was best.

“You’ll call?” Hope filled your question, already feeling an anxiety that would stay with you until your phone buzzed and his number appeared.

“Yeah. Yeah, of course,” he lied, knowing he wouldn’t, he couldn’t. You needed to get on with your new life, one free of that other bastard and without someone as useless as him. You’d move on and probably never think of him again, but every part of him wanted that not to be the case.

Will did have to admit he was worried about being alone again, dreading that feeling of having no one at all, missing the way you managed to fill the void and made the cabin feel more like home than any other place he’d called home before. Nothing had changed in his life yet somehow it felt worse, heavier this time, the loneliness creeping back into his bones and quickly reminding him of all the things he did to get himself here.

He felt so torn, watching you gather your things that had melded in with his over the days you were here, wanting you to go on and be happy but so badly wanting to beg, or even force you to stay.

Placing the straps of your backpack over your shoulders, you stood from your chair, and each step you took toward him felt like your boots were full of lead. Looking at him apologetically and flooded with regret, you leaned down and kissed him, your lips lingering in not wanting to part, your hand smoothing over the softness of his beard one last time.

Before you could pull away, Will clasped either side of your face with his hands, dragging you closer into him, his tongue demanding entrance into your mouth. You whined, the sound of your body seeking a way to surrender making him kiss you more intensely, and when you broke away and stepped backwards he stood and followed. His lips were locked with yours again instantly, and this time you had no wish to stop him. Will’s thick torso pressed against you, his fingers moving to slip the straps of your backpack off your shoulders while he walked until you were stopped by the wall. Right before your bag fell completely from your body, you stopped it, slowing the movement of your lips on his. He stared you down vehemently, his breathing ragged and harsh, and you knew he was hovering on the edge of acting in a brutal or reckless way with you, making arousal burst through you.

“Don’t make this harder than it already is,” you whispered, hoping the innocent way you looked and sounded would egg him on to do whatever it was he had in mind.

His eyes flickered back and forth from your own to your lips, his expression still lingering on dark and dangerous, but his voice was softer than you thought it would be when he responded. “I can’t help it.”

He tilted his head, diving onto your lips again as he finished the task of discarding your bag, the sound of it thudding on the floor lost on you.

Will wasted no time, unfastening your pants and pulling them down enough to access the part of you he wanted most, his eyes darkening and pupils dilating when he drove two fingers inside you to discover how wet you already were for him. In a few rough and hasty motions his jeans were tugged down below his ass, and you swallowed thickly watching him grip his length that leaked from the tip, but shut your eyes when he rubbed it over your clit to wet your sensitive bud.

“Spread your legs,” he panted, his resolve and patience gone, his primal want for you the only thing clear to him now. Obeying his command, you spread your legs as wide as your pants that were locked around them would allow, providing Will just enough room to plunge inside your tight entry.

Giving you no time to stretch to fit him comfortably, he began pumping in and out of you, your walls sore and overworked from all the other times he had pounded you, yet you immediately felt overcome by pleasure. Your fingers clawed at his shoulders, hanging on to him as he rutted into your deepest part, the heat that poured off his body already making you happier for the delay of being out in the cold.

Reaching around him, you grabbed his ass, relishing the feel of its plumpness in your hands as it flexed in time with his thrusts. You would’ve preferred to feel all of his skin against yours, but you were happy to get at what parts of him you could, and so you brought your lips to his neck and licked and sucked his searing flesh, the saltiness of his sweat impairing you even more from thinking straight.

The cabin wall shook with each blow, and Will knew even if it fell down around him he wouldn’t stop fucking you, feeling desperate to take whatever he could from you while he still had you. He went harder, testing his stamina and ignoring the plea from his side to slow down, determined to take you to the brink and drag you past it with him. Your walls contracted around him each time he slammed all the way inside you, bringing him closer to his end, and in a final effort to ruin you and ensure you would never forget how he made you feel, he continued with even more fervor. His fingers dug into your hip, clawing at your skin beneath your layers of clothing so hard there would be bruises despite them, and the palm of his other hand hit the paneled wall beside your head, providing him leverage to roll his hips against yours until you shattered around him. Your screams came at the same time he felt you soak his cock more, your fingers raking through his hair and pulling on it to make his scalp tingle and his own feral noises joined yours to fill the otherwise quiet room.

He had to be close, you thought, feeling his previously unwavering pace become sporadic and irregular, so you continued to rock on him, riding out your own climax while helping him chase his. His beard scratched on your neck, his lips smearing wetness across it as his kisses turned into sloppy, open-mouthed claims of ecstasy, and right when he reached his peak he growled against your skin.

“I need you,” he rumbled, his proclamation spurring him on to finish, his arm snaking around your waist to paw at your back and squeeze you tight against him as he pulsed inside you. His breath fanned against your neck as he fought to catch it until he moved his face up to look at you, a wounded sort of expression replacing the untamed one from earlier.

Blinking as he looked away, he slipped out of you and tucked himself back in his jeans, grabbing a tissue from a box on the table so you could clean yourself and redress as well.

It was silent as you did, feeling Will’s eyes on you the whole time you set your pack over your shoulders and readjusted it, feeling like it was packed full of feathers rather than clothes and supplies, weightless compared to the heaviness you felt in your heart.

He nodded at you when you finally brought yourself to look at him, a slow movement of his head up and then down only once, his lips tucked into a frown as he leaned against the table with his arms folded across his chest.

It stung watching you prepare to walk out his door and probably out of his life - someone who felt special, who created something so incredible with him in such a short amount of time - leaving just the same as every other good thing seemed to abandon him. Was it wrong to want you to stay with him forever, to love you and have you love him the way both of you deserved and had craved for a lifetime?

It was like pulling off a band aid, you told yourself, knowing it was the only way you would get out the door, needing to let the words you really wanted to say die in your throat and do your best not to linger with a heartfelt goodbye. If you stepped one inch closer to him you would be glued to each other again, unable to trust that you wouldn’t kiss him until you couldn’t breathe anymore or be physically able to peel your hands away from his body.

Keeping your vow of silence, you turned and walked to the door, your hand shaking on the handle as you opened it, not daring to turn back to take another glance at the man you already began to miss.

Not much time had passed and already Will had run out of things to occupy his mind. He did the dishes, careful to scrub the mug you had drank out of on those lazy mornings with extra care as if trying to erase what was left of you, and even made the bed that still smelled of you. His mind raced, trying to ignore the nagging feeling that he should have tried to get you to stay.

Frustrated, he stepped outside and tugged his axe out from the stump it waited in, taking a log to balance on top of it before raising the tool above his head to slam down on it, splitting it in one go. Repeating the process again and again did nothing to ease his mind, and soon he had gone through almost the whole pile before he paid attention to the relentless ache in his torso that warned him to quit. Flopping down in a chair after returning inside, he leaned to the left to stretch out his side, wincing from the pain. He exhaled deeply out of his nose, regretting how aggressively he had chopped the wood, and he considered popping one of the pills that had been forgotten and were irrelevant until now.

Ignoring the idea, he stood and stomped back outside, gathering the wood to bring in to stack in a pile beside the stove. It started off neat, each log placed carefully and meticulously in a pattern that would ensure they wouldn’t fall, but by the time he got to the last ones his temper had grown so much that he tossed them on top negligently, part of him hoping it would all crumble down so he could do it all again.

Will found it comical, the cabin feeling cold even with the fire blazing, your absence screaming to be felt as a shiver broke through the sweat that clung to his skin.

What now? he thought, looking at the whiskey and the pill bottle beside it, sitting like a beacon on the counter, coaxing him to go down a road he knew he didn’t want to. Sighing, he rubbed his hand over his face, temptation flowing through him as much as it did before he had experienced all of you.

Each step you took brought you further from Will and even further from thinking you had made the right choice. You did your best to focus on the feel of the long grass flattening beneath your boots, carefully placing one foot in front of the other knowing if you didn’t do at least that, you would find you were back at his cabin before you could stop yourself.

Would that be the worst thing? How wrong could it be to be curled up in his arms, back in the four walls that enclosed the two of you to keep you away from the rest of the world, the fire and his skin warming your body? A cold gust of wind brought you out of that memory, the cruelty of reality not at all hesitating to remind you that you were naive in thinking this was more than just a fling you would forever compare every one that came after to.

It seemed as if the wind picked up the more your thoughts swirled around in your head, the strength of it making you lean and brace yourself against it as you pressed on. Within minutes the sky darkened, the clouds rolling in quickly between the mountains that surrounded you, and a helpless feeling overcame you.

Tipping your face up toward the sky, you willed for the clouds to hold together and not open up on you again, knowing your strength was as brittle as the small twigs that snapped under your soles, their own resilience stolen by the selfishness of winter. A drop of rain hit your cheek, landing and rolling down to disguise the tear that fell before it, and was soon followed by more than you could count.

Weakness took him, and finally after another hour of continued debate, Will swallowed a shot of whiskey that chased down a pill, his eyes closing as it burned down his throat. Half expecting it to immediately dull the pain he felt, he cursed when it didn’t, spinning the bottle around with his fingers until it nearly toppled over, and after catching it from falling, he refilled his glass.

Moving to sit beside the fire, he took his glass with him, choosing to sip on it slowly rather than tossing it back. His free hand held his side, the memory of your nimble, loving fingers against his torn skin nothing more but ghosts now, making him crave the comfort you provided. Sighing loudly through his nostrils, he glanced at what was left in his glass, swirling the contents before placing it against his lips again to drain it, hopeful it would help him forget all of what he was missing.

The effects of the booze and the meds set in quickly, and a hazy, but false sense of calm washed over him, making him slump in the chair more. The ache in his side subsided slightly, but when Will closed his eyes and tried to sink deeper into the grip of inebriation, all that consumed his mind were thoughts of you. Visions he could never forget regardless of the amount of substances he abused flashed along with the flames behind the darkness of his eyelids, and he begged for them to be real.

It was tormenting; seeing your lips curled up in a playful smile before your teeth bit into your bottom lip, a moan escaping from between them as he pressed his own all over your searing skin, the rough condition of his hands unworthy of touching your soft flesh, making him even more eager to shower you with a kind of worship no one could ever match.

Will ran his hands through his hair and then down over his face, unsure if he wanted these memories to keep coming or to stop completely, feeling tortured but welcoming them at the same time. He inhaled deeply, the stretch of his ribs making the pain in his side return, and he kept his eyes shut tightly as he tried to hold on to what relief he had felt from the whiskey.

A rumble of thunder sounded in the distance, forcing his eyes open, and he waited a moment to be sure that was really the sound he heard. Disbelief coursed through him when it boomed again, and he stood and looked out the window to see an oncoming storm looming in. His first thought went to you, and without hesitation, he grabbed his keys and flew out the door, setting out in search of you before the elements could attack you again.

Following the road along the route he told you to take, he pulled to the side every few kilometers and got out to walk, his eyes desperately scanning the hillsides for any sign of you. It was futile, the wind unbelievably strong and the rain coming down in sharp, striking sheets, hindering his visibility. Will swore as he sat back in the driver's seat of his worn yute and slammed the door, hitting the steering wheel hard with his fist before turning it around to head back to the cabin. He wiped his face with his hand, trying to clear his skin of the rain that coated it, but mostly in an attempt to calm his nerves. All he could think was he needed to find you, and he wouldn’t rest until he did.

His mind was going a mile a minute, trying to focus on driving at the same time he kept his eyes peeled for any evidence of you, all while making a mental list of the things he would need to continue his search. He needed a flashlight, and would grab a blanket and dry clothes for you to change into, knowing you’d be soaked through just as you were the first time the storm caught you.

He didn’t realize how far he had driven or how long he’d been out looking for you, but after what seemed like forever, and stopping a couple more times to scout some larger areas again, he arrived home. Worry stirred in his gut, wanting to know more than anything if you were fine or had somehow made it back to your car before it got too bad. Parking his yute, he pulled his phone from his pocket, but just as he expected there was still no reception. Leaving the keys in the ignition, he ran up the steps, knowing he’d need to hurry if he was going to beat the approaching darkness that came with the oncoming hour of the day.

Flinging the door open, he stopped dead in his tracks, seeing your form standing beside the fire, your face falling with relief when you turned around to face him.

He crossed the room and embraced you, holding you tightly against his body, his hands pressing over you like he was making sure you were real and in one piece.

“I’m okay,” you mumbled into his vest, the smell of rain clinging to the oiled leather and the scent of him overwhelming your senses as you fisted it.

He kissed the top of your head, moving his mouth down to press firmly on your forehead, nose and finally your lips. “I was worried.”

You smiled at him gratefully before returning his kiss, the happiness you felt to be back in his arms an understatement.

“I kept wanting to turn around,” you admitted softly, no longer doubting your choice but embarrassed at feeling like you needed him the amount you did. “I made it about a hundred steps from your door and I already wanted to turn back. As soon as the first drop of rain fell, I did.” You pulled back from him slightly, plucking your soaked jacket away from your body as you laughed. “Still managed to get caught in it.”

Will cupped your cold cheeks, your teeth chattering equally from cold and adrenaline despite trying your best to control it, watching his expression that was still full of concern.

“Come on, let’s get you warm.”

Peeling out of your wet clothes, you watched as Will did the same, your heart leaping in your chest when he wrapped his shirt over your bare shoulders, the warmth from it transferring onto you just like it had the first night you were here. You stood in front of the fire, thankful for it and the full pile of wood that sat beside it, knowing Will had chopped it all after you left as the stash had dwindled drastically in the time you were here. He dragged a chair over to land directly in front of the stove, then turned and grabbed the heaviest blanket off the bed, draping it over you to join his shirt. He undid his jeans and pulled them down to the floor along with his boxers, moving to sit on the chair before you.

He looked up at you with an emotion you weren’t sure how to read, one that hinted at feeling guilty that he’d let you go but was also promising he would never let anything bad happen to you again.

He held your hands to pull you toward him and you gladly straddled his lap, curling yourself into him as he wrapped his arms around your back, burying his face in your neck. Between the heat from him and the fire licking at your back you immediately felt warm, and you knew you would gladly endure any storm if it meant being held like this. A contented hum left you as Will peppered kisses all across your collarbone and neck, feeling lost in how good the wetness of his lips and scruff of his beard felt on your skin. You massaged your hands in return all across his broad back, your nails scratching the wet curls at the base of his neck, drawing out a moan from him that resounded through you.

Folding your arms around him, you held his head to your chest, relishing in having him against you, and without having to look at his piercing eyes, you said what you hadn’t stopped thinking about since you set out earlier.

“I think I’m meant to be here…” you began, pausing to see how he would react. When his lips continued to decorate your chest you went on. “There’s something that’s keeping me.”

His mouth trailed upward onto your neck and your jawline before stopping to look at you, his steely eyes making you feel comforted, but nervous for his response.

“And what’s that?” His voice was raspy and low, like he was holding on to some emotion that would either strangle him or set him free depending on how you answered.

“You.”

The way he stared at you made your lungs stop taking in air and your heart stop beating for a moment, but the way he kissed you reassured you of everything you said and felt, his mouth covering yours and tongue demanding entry with a need so strong it pulsed through you. Matching his fervor, you arched into him, the blanket as well as his shirt slipping from your shoulders to expose them and your bare chest, the material gathering around your hips and his knees. Will smoothed over your back in firm caresses with his callused hands as he dipped his head to capture your nipples between his lips in turn, sucking and licking the taught pebbles until he had you whimpering and pulling at his hair. It was impossible to ignore the growing hardness beginning to push up against your sex, your body responding by sending a rush of wetness to greet him as you steadily ground yourself on his cock.

“I missed you,” Will whispered, his words barely audible as he spoke them into your neck, like he was scared or ashamed to admit it.

Your heart swelled, reassurance surging through you to know you weren’t the only one feeling such a way, and you kissed him with an intensity you hoped would tell him just what he meant to you.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been missed before,” you explained after interrupting your kiss, causing him to look at you questioningly, so bravely, you went on, speaking a truth you never shared with anyone before. “I was always replaced or put second, the one he came home to after he’d already seen the woman he really wanted to first…I didn’t matter.”

Will sighed, opening his mouth to speak but finding it difficult to find the right words to say how he felt without straight up telling you he loved you.

“Well, you matter to me, and I missed you before you even left. I’ve never felt like this before, and it’s crazy, but you-” his brows furrowed when he paused, getting lost in his explanation. “You’re brave and bold, you bring out something in me no one has ever cared to see.” He kissed you, his hands moving to cradle your cheeks, his tongue sliding over yours in a way that made you melt into him more, your core rubbing against his hardness. After a minute, he broke from you, still holding your face as his thumbs moved back and forth on your windburnt skin that was now flushed from the fire and your arousal. “I’m constantly impressed by you.”

“You don’t think I’m silly or stupid for all of this?” You waved your hand flippantly, thinking how most of your friends and family had already labeled you as crazy for setting out on a hiking trip alone. Some of them had even urged you to forgive and stay with your ex for ‘stability’, so you could only imagine the things they would have to say about you shacking up with a hunter you just met and felt as strongly as you did about.

“No, never,” he shook his head once, his face screwed up with annoyance before shifting to amused, his eyes lighting up confidently. “You landed on my doorstep because of it, and I can’t really think of too many things that beat what we’ve been doing.” His boyish smirk had you weak once again, his dimples breaking out on either side of his face so deeply they showed through his beard. Agreeing with him completely, you kissed him intensely, your whole body rolling in a smooth motion against him as you held his head, your fingers tangling in his wet waves.

Soon the familiar noises of the wind and rain on the roof filled your ears, mixing with the crackling of flames on dry wood, making you wonder if anything else could ever be so comforting.

A deep growl came from Will when you pressed down harder on him, his cock twitching in response, flexing up against your fluttering folds that had you moaning softly into his mouth. Gripping his shoulders for support, you lifted yourself slightly, giving him room to angle himself to your opening. Slowly, you sank down on him, allowing him to fill you half way until you rose up again, the tips of your toes lifting you off the worn floorboards, his leaking tip slipping out of you to make him shudder and claw at your waist. Repeating this cruel act, you sent Will over the edge, his patience thinning each time you released his cock from your wet heat until he forced you down on him, holding your hips in a grip so strong it pulled excitement in your stomach and sent a shiver through you.

His breathing was ragged, his skin coated in sweat that made your hands glide easily over his skin when you carded them up his chest to his neck, smiling against his lips as he kissed you harshly. Your clit ground on the slight bulge of his belly, his darker hairs working to send you toward your high already, your body tingling in every place his hands or mouth contacted.

Your bodies slipped on each other, the heat from the fire behind you breaking you out in a sweat that was only fueled more by Will’s feral treatment of you.

He rutted up into you, each blow sending his cock deeper, your wetness leaking out around him to help lessen the slightly painful way he stretched and filled you, unforgiving to how sore you were from earlier.

He moved rough and relentlessly, determined to fuck you the hardest he had yet to help convince you to never want to leave this room. It felt selfish, wanting to keep you here all to himself, but with the rarity of ever getting anything he longed for in life he brushed it away, kissing you harder as he dug his fingers in your flesh, keen on claiming you as his.

It seemed to work, praise and pleasured accolades tumbling from your parted lips in broken strings of coherence, the way you clung to him tightly and kept up to his movements proving your need for him to equal how much he needed you.

Will slowed his pace to see if you would keep going on your own, wanting you to use him however you needed to, and when you did, rocking against him faster in an abandonment of control, his cock pulsed and throbbed against your tight walls. He was ready to blow, hanging on by a quickly unraveling thread, feeling you bearing down on him to keep him at your deepest part.

When your whimpers escalated into loud cries he resumed his upward thrusts, not planning to stop until he felt you clench and spasm around him.

Will gritted his teeth, trying to hold on to wait for you. “That’s it,” he groaned, his voice strained. “You’re such a fucking good girl riding me hard like this.”

An unhinged cry split the room, and as you screamed Will finally burst, spilling into you with his hot ropes at the same time you detonated, your orgasm turning you into a shaking mess as you chased its end. He kissed you with fervor everywhere he could reach, holding you close to him as the aftershocks of your highs rippled out to a faint tingle you craved again already.

You rested your face in the crook of Will’s neck, kissing his hot skin that was so fragrant it made you light-headed, your lips capturing the saltiness of his sweat before moving along to graze your teeth against the scruffiness of his beard. Moving to his cheek and then his nose, you gave a final kiss on his perfect lips, smiling at him with such a love in your heart when you eventually convinced yourself to pull away.

He chuckled and hummed, looking radiant in his afterglow, his blue eyes a stunning compliment to the orange light that filled the room and reflected in them.

“This storm is supposed to hang on a while,” he grinned, saying it with enough conviction he made himself believe this complete fabrication of the forecast.

You tilted your head, playing along. “Oh really?”

“Mhm, yeah. Days.”

You brushed your lips across his again, knowing that even if the storm passed within the hour you still wouldn’t manage to walk back out the door.

“I reckon at least a week…”

His chuckle vibrated through you when he closed what little space remained between your faces, happy to know he could have you now as much as he wanted, and he prayed that storm after storm would wreak havoc until spring came through.

———

Taglist:

Everything: @guardianofrivendell @midearthwritings @cassiabaggins @lilith15000 @trishthedishofreis @linasofia @unbeatablecurlgirl @the-poldarkian @lathalea @enchantzz @blairsanne @legolaslovely @middleearthpixie @i-did-not-mean-to @sketch-and-write-lover @jotink78 @medusas-hairband @feeweeeee

[hailsatanacab]

So for the made up fic title game I seriously feel like you could make so many from the lyrics if Scare Me by Ludo, pEAK DP vibes, but I wanna suggest either

Suddenly Bubbling Posthumous

Or

Spooky Breeze Breathin'

oR

Blood! Ghost! AAHHH!

Suddenly Bubbling Posthumous

All of these are gold but the first one is so fucking juicy, the mouth-feel of it is so delectable and I am incapable of choosing anything else, so here we go!

Danny Phantom, No One Knows AU, Sam's POV (tw blood) --- Here's what I'm thinking...

Danny's dead.

Everyone at school knows it. No one says anything, of course—or, at least, not where he can hear it.

People go quiet when he passes (hah), watching, staring, waiting for him to turn the corner before they erupt into furious whispers.

Danny's dead. Killed in his parent's lab. It was an accident, they say, he's lucky to be alive.

No one really believes it. They all know the truth.

That is, until a month or so into the semester when actual ghosts start attacking and people realise there's no way normal, average, so-scared-of-ghosts-he-disappears-at-the-mere-mention-of-an-attack Daniel Fenton can be anything like them. So they all move on (double hah) with their lives.

It becomes one of those school yard urban legends, you know the ones - the old principal was fired for hitting a student, Lancer rides a motorbike, the quiet guy in the back of class is a ghost. A joke that no one really believes.

But as she's always said, people are idiots—and while Sam may be a lot of things, she likes to think an idiot isn’t one of them. There's just too many things off with Fenton and yeah, ghosts might be mainstream now, but a living dead boy that has skin that burns like ice and a heartbeat that's far too slow to be normal has to be the most goth thing she can think of.

She measured it once you know, gritting her teeth against the cold bite of his skin.

They were partners that day. Tetslaff had them all record their heart rates before and after exercise and she got chewed out for not taking it seriously when she... politely expressed her concern over Danny’s readings. She took it right, she knows she did. Sure, she might have been swearing about it, but she maintains the detention was unwarranted.

Danny said nothing throughout the whole thing. Just shrugged his shoulders and rubbed the back of his neck in that nervous way he always does when people look too closely at him.

So she does the reasonable thing and decides to set up a trap.

Tucker tries to stop her, of course he does, but you can't stop Sam Manson when she's made up her mind. It's probably the one thing she's glad she inherited from her parents—but so help her, she will throw hands with anyone that says it.

Proving Danny Fenton is a ghost is easier said than done.

The summoning she pulls off the Internet is a dud and Tucker tries his best to convince her it's because Danny isn't dead and there's nothing to summon, but really, how could they expect the first thing they find off of a wannabe witch's ten year-old blog post to be legit? The animated crows should have given it away, really. She blames herself.

Sam just has to try harder.

The ouija board doesn't work—she realises it's Tuck moving it when the "spirit" asks her if she wants to play Doomed instead—and nor does the spirit box she buys off of a site claiming to be the number one shop for aspiring ghost hunters.

Danny just laughs when he sees it. She swears his teeth are sharper than normal, his mouth too wide. When she flips the switch anyway the box squawks pitifully once and stops working completely. Waste of money.

They hold a seance during a sleepover, Tucker complaining all the while. It's quickly put an end to when Tucker leans too close to a candle and his beret catches on fire. Sam's convinced he did it on purpose, but even Tuck's not that stupid. After that disaster of a night, he won't let her use anything with an open flame. There goes her burning herbs idea.

In the end, it's only by pure, dumb luck that she finds out the truth.

They're in science class and the chemicals are out, so everyone's wearing goggles and looking supremely bored. Sam's been partnered up with Danny and for once she'snot miserable that Tucker’s in a different class, because now she gets to use the lesson for her own observation experiment.

It pays off when she watches him yawn, his head nodding forward as if he's going to fall asleep standing up in the middle of class, and the beaker full of sulphuric acid slips straight through his hands.

That's not a figure of speech.

One moment his hand is there, holding it like normal and the next his hand has vanished and all that's left of the beaker is bits of glass and acid soaking into their shoes.

It's not the first time he's done it (she's pretty sure he holds the record for most lab equipment broken), but it's the first time in a while and it's also the first time Sam's seen it up close.

It's confirmation enough for her. She's seen enough ghost fights to know what intangibility looks like! Even the knowledge that her favourite boots are ruined isn't enough to dampen her victory high.

That is, until she sees him bleeding.

He'd tried to catch it.

The beaker slips through his fingers and he snatches out with his other hand, quick but not quick enough and the beaker shatters on the floor. A shard bounces back into his hand, the cut a perfectly straight line along his palm that immediately drips... blood?

It has to be blood, right?

She's watching it come out of his hand so it has to be blood, but it's green, it's a lurid, neon green, and like what the fuck even is that because it can't be blood, can it?

She claps a hand over her mouth to hold in a whimper when she watches it start to bubble.

Lancer calls for everyone to evacuate the classroom while they just stand there, staring at each other.

Fenton looks terrified, eyes as wide as hers, his face as white as... Well. As white as a ghost.

What the fuck is she meant to do now?

She lowers her hand from her mouth and whispers the first thing that comes into her head, low and under her breath, "Living dead ghost boy says what."

"What?"

Foolproof.

[kurogabae]

Hey, I'm the anon asking for KuroFai fanfics! I'm SO happy you got married, really! It's a wonderful news to hear 🥺❤️ also, I'm sure you'll recover from covid really fast, don't worry! As for the rec, both SFW and NSFW fics are fine. Thank you again!

Thank you, that's very sweet. The wife and I are both recovering fairly well. Just a lingering cough and some fatigue left. I'm just glad no one had to go to the hospital.

Now! About those fics!

First off - I would read anything written by cloverfield, yououui, and @ellayuki (especially if you want a bite-sized fix). If they write it, I read it, and they all run the gambit of genre. Whatever your mood, you'll find something. Both Clover and Yououui have several lemon fics, but they are wonderful at tagging, so you'll never be caught off guard. I don't think Ella has an AO3 but I'll add it if I discover it. EDIT: Ella’s AO3 is right here, but you’ll still find most content on tumblr.

I'll put the rest of my list under a cut so this doesn't become run on.

SFW Fics

"Let the Stars Be" - Kurogane's family lands in a world with two moons. It's peaceful at first, until they stumble across a wreckage with a single crying child. Now they have to escort said child to where they were originally meant to be. {TWC era fic where the family has to help take care of a baby AU!Yue and I am a sucker for kid!fic of all kinds.}

"Upon this Linoleum Ground" - In Infinity, everything is hell. In Infinity, Sakura finds Kurogane crying in a bathroom. {Beware tags! This is a sad one but it's impossible for me to say no to Kurogane and Sakura trauma bonding and also I love it when a man cries. [Sarah is also a very talented author and I highly suggest her works.]}

"the art of scraping through" - Kurogane has a lot of scars. {EMOTIONS! Fai and Kurogane talk about scars and make out and have a lot of feelings. Everything stays T rated and the whole of it leaves you wanting more of everything in the best way.}

"Never Gonna Learn My Lesson" - Fai and Kurogane are not as smart as they think they are, and their attempts to pass a high school equivalency exam are probably going to make Syaoran throw himself out a window. {One of the funniest fics I've probably ever read tbh. Faren's a master and the amount of times I had to put this down to just laugh myself to tears is in the double digits. A little cracky so expect some slightly OOC moments but easily one of my faves.}

"Bloodflow" - Even without any traces of a vampire’s power inside of him, Fai still can’t help the thrum of his pulse when he smells Kurogane’s blood. A story about recovering and moving on. Set between TRC and TWC. {SFW vampire kink? SFW vampire kink.}

"Timeless" - Once upon a time there was a child of misfortune and a broken mirror…and a day when snow fell in spring… {A "Snow Queen" AU done absolutely artfully. Beautiful read, especially if you enjoy having the whole family along for the ride.}

"Settling Suwa" - After all is said and done, and the children can finally settle into their own lives, Kurogane takes Fai with him to reclaim his homeland in Nihon. {Re! Settling! Suwa! Fic! What more do I need to say?}

Lemon Fics

**Please be sure to read all tags on each fic to make sure it's right for you**

"Bite the Bullet" - “Kuro-Daddy got hurt! And if there’s one thing Mokona knows --though Mokona knows many things, Mokona is so clever and wonderful-- it’s that when Daddy gets hurt, Mummy gets even.” {Yes I've already recced Clover's fics but this was written for me and I read it... a lot so like. Obviously it gets a special place.}

"Swapped" - Kurogane, Fai, Mokona, and Syaoran land in a world with their souls in the wrong bodies. When they find that accessing their magic is harder than they thought, it takes some creative thinking to move them on to the next world. {WARNING! This one can be heavy. I love a body swap fic, I love trans!Kuro, but this does touch on body dysphoria and the like. Heed the tags. It's a great read if the tags/warnings don't bother you though.}

"that's the kind of love" - “What did you dream about?” Fai asks directly, his voice low and dangerous. Kurogane watches his lips form the words, with barely focused eyes; he can taste the liquor on his breath, and he thinks he might get drunk on that alone. Kurogane lifts his gaze purposefully back up to meet Fai’s. “You,” he whispers. {Almost 15k of emotions and RST and I LOVE IT! As the patron saint of bottom!Kurogane I'm so delighted to see the movement catch on.}

"Starving" - The return of his eye should have taken this curse away, so why does he still feel the same, burning thirst?

He knows Kurogane would submit to his fangs again, but maybe there's no reason to tell him. If he can find a way to remove his condition on his own, no one need be the wiser.

(In which Kurogane fights to convince Fai that vampirism suits him just fine.) {I'm a slut for vampire kink. Sue me.}

"PWP- Shoal Sex" - PWP AU where Fai has tentacles and Kurogane enjoys Fai using them on him. {If you've been following me for any amount of time you'll know exactly how much I like tentacles.}

"This is His Body (This is His Love)" - Little by little, Fai’s once bony frame has filled out with lean muscle and soft edges. King Ashura once told Fai that he drinks more than he eats, and that’s no longer true. Fai has a future to live for. So, it follows that the change in his soul has taken root in the body he now cares for. When Kurogane touches Fai’s arm to grab his attention, he’s surprised (and perhaps a bit intrigued) by how firm the bicep beneath his palm has become. {Tag Warning! The eating disorder talk isn't overly explicit, but some people can find it upsetting for sure. This is, however, an overall feel good fic. A celebration of recovery and love and I found it so warm and sweet.}

--

That should be a good start for ya! Of course there's always the KuroFai Olympics archives. Or my personal bookmarks. Or my own fics even.

[pennylanewrites]

＊Smile＊

minors dni!

description: Armin Arlert loves sweet, innocent things, especially when he can ruin them with his very own sickening sweetness.

pairings: Armin Arlert x gn! reader

word count: 2.4k

contains: smut duh, modern au, private college richboy armin, mild obsession with reader, oral (male receiving), use of the word ‘whore’, like one slap, unprotected sex (nothing spills inside dw), lowkey manipulation (what else y’all expected from armin?)

!!reader is afab(assigned female at birth), gender neutral and of legal age (around their 2nd year of college)!!

)^o^(

Whatever Armin Arlert wanted, Armin Arlert got. Cars, VIP seats, answers to exams, anything you can imagine. Being one of the most well-respected alumni of Paradis Institute's only son definitely had its advantages.

Girls and boys begged for a chance to be noticed by Armin Arlert, who wore his Prefect pin proudly and monitored the halls with his head high, but to no avail. Armin had long forgotten about sex, he found it appalling and unnecessary, unless it was with you.

You, who walked with your head high just like him. You, who would talk with classmates and wonder why they sprinted away as soon as the Prefect turned a corner. You, who could swear you heard a few camera clicks every time you used the communal showers. You, who despite being beautiful and charming, could not get a significant other for the life of you. Yes, your classmate, Armin had made sure the only person available to you would be himself; the handsome, smart and rich Prefect.

"Can I help you, Arlert?" Were the only words you spoke to him when he entered the science lab you were trying to work in.

"Am I bothering you, ___ ? I can leave." You took one look at his big, ocean blue eyes and sighed, taking your glasses off.

"No, sorry."

"Rough day? I'm sure it's nothing a massage can't solve." He offered, walking around the table you were working on and immediately placing his hands on your stiff shoulders. You shrugged them off quickly and faced the other way.

"Are you sure you don't want a massage from the person paying for your scholarship?" He whispered in a low voice, which would be very attractive if you weren't intimidated by him. You gulped and nodded, allowing him to happily massage your shoulders and upper back.

"I heard you're having a hard time with the new lecture."

"I-I do." You tried withholding a pleased sigh. The massage was definitely working.

"Be at my dorm around seven. I'll help you with it, ___." Armin left with a polite smile and bow of his head, leaving you to wonder how he looked so sweet yet acted so bitter.

At seven sharp, you stood outside of Armin Arlert's dormitory, patting your hair down, fixing your shirt underneath your uniform pants and looking around nervously. With a deep breath, you finally knocked on the wooden door, which was opened almost immediately.

"Come in, ___!" Armin's face lit up the moment he saw you and he stepped away for you to enter his room. A kitchenette, a double bed, a desk and a bookcase filled all the space, just like every other dorm on campus. And as you set your books on the desk, you could have sworn you caught a glimpse of tiles, running water and a nude person as the lock screen on his laptop, which he was quick to close before you took another look.

"Would you like a coffee, ___?"

"Yes, please."

It was getting past ten and your head could barely stand up on its own. You leaned back on the chair and stretched your arms out, yawning into one of them. Armin noticed and closed your book, his hand lingering on it.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" ,he exclaimed and opened a drawer, "I have some flash cards for you!"

"Oh, it's not necessa–"

"I insist." He said firmly and looked through some neatly filed papers. Once again, your eye caught a few pictures of someone's back profile and you could swear they had the same lower back tattoo as you. You, however, dismissed it once again. Boys tend to have pictures of pornstars, right?

Flipping through the flash cards, a picture fell out and Armin rushed to pick it up before you could. This time, however, it was loud and clear that the person in those photos was you taking a shower. At the time, you didn't know that all those pictures were set up on purpose. For you to see and become vulnerable in front of Armin Arlert.

"Armin, what's that?" Your voice came out in a hoarse whisper instead of the clear and stern tone you were planning on.

"Just something I'm planning on posting on the college's site tonight." He grinned.

"Wh-what? Why would you–"

"I don't know, ___. You tell me." He leaned closer to you, holding his weight on the arms of your chair. His blond hair fell over his eyes, making it the perfect shade of dark blue under the shadows.

"I have to go." You said sheepishly and started picking your books up, but an arm around your waist stopped you.

"Why do you keep on resisting me, ___?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I want you. And you want me too, right?"

     You were confused. Heartbroken. You always thought of Armin as nothing else than your classmate. So, what was this sudden urge to lock your lips with his?

     Looking up, you were met with a dark look in his eyes and a grin that seemed almost evil. You knew deep down he had dark intentions, but at the same time, you needed to know what those intentions were.

“I’ve never seen you wearing a skirt or a dress...you always act so modest, but the way you touch yourself so desperately in the shower...” his hand ghosted over your clothed thigh and stopped at your hip, “you just want to get fucked like a whore, right?”

“A-Armin...”

“Why don’t you put a little show for me? Undress yourself.” He sat on his chair and opened his legs, shamelessly showing off the tent in his uniform pants.

With a blush decorating your cheeks and a trembling bottom lip at the embarrassment suddenly hitting you, you slowly unbuttoned your white dress shirt and let it drop on the floor. Kicking the Oxford shoes your school required off, your hands made way to the side zipper on your pants. This time, your eyes locked with Armin’s as your pants dropped on the floor next to your shirt.

“Those too, doll.” He ordered, referring to your underwear. His demanding tone went straight between your legs, which you rubbed together in an attempt for some friction. You quickly unclasped your bra and removed your underwear, but before you could do anything else, Armin extended his arm and pulled you closer to him. With his arms around your waist, his forehead came in contact with your lower stomach, taking in the sight before his eyes with a deep breath.

“On your knees.”

You did as he said and watched his hands, decorated with a few gold rings and a bracelet, unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. Pushing his boxers down slightly, his member spurted out and hit his lower abdominals. Chuckling at your wide eyes, he led your hand to his cock.

“Consider this a thanks for your scholarship.” He leaned back on the chair, one hand behind his head and the other gripping your hair. You nodded and brought your mouth closer, licking on the tip that dripped with precum. As one of your hands massaged his balls and your mouth started taking more of his length in, a few groans escaped Armin’s lips and the grip on your hair tightened. But he had had enough. Both of his hands found your hair and pushed your head down, earning a gag at the sudden contact of his tip with your throat. You swore you could hear the smirk in his groans as your tongue worked around his length while he pushed your head up and down rapidly.

“Just like that...good...take it all.” You would be lying if you said his words didn’t make you rub your thighs together, desperate for something, anything to fulfill your need.

Before you could lead one of your hands between your legs, warm ropes of cum hit the back of your throat. Armin thrusted in your mouth a couple more times, milking his orgasm and overstimulating himself enough that a few more drops of the hot liquid joined your saliva. Removing himself with a squelch, he grazed his thumb over your bottom lip.

“Good. Swallow like the whore you are.” You did as he said, your eyesight blurry and your head dizzy from the facefucking you just went through. Without wasting another minute, Armin got up, pulling you with him and leaving a rough, needy kiss on your swollen lips. With a knee spreading your legs and rubbing right at your core, he kissed down your neck and collarbones, allowing you to let out the most quiet moans.

“Look at you. At this rate, you’re gonna get off using my leg.” You could only respond with a hum as he tackled you on his bed, not wasting any time in taking his clothes off before getting on top of you. His hands roamed your curves and yours stayed around his neck, fidgeting with the gold chain around it. A sudden moan escaped your lips when two of Armin’s fingers scissored your slit open and entered with ease. His eyes fixated on your face; the way your lips trembled and your eyes rolled back with every pump of his slender fingers, oh how he wished he could spend every second of the day looking at you like this; so sweet, so vulnerable, almost too innocent, yet so perfect for him to ruin.

“Please, Armin...’m gonna-”

“Aww, too bad.” He removed his fingers and laughed at your disappointed face, which soon turned into a surprised one when he grabbed both your legs and placed them over his shoulders. You both let out a gasp when his pink tip entered your hole. Armin was not like anyone you’ve been with. He didn’t care about letting you adjust to his girth, thinking it was much more pleasurable to see you struggling not to make a sound.

“Armin...”

“Yeah, say my name, love.” He thrusted harder into your walls, hands gripping your hips to ground you in your spot. Another thrust from Armin and another moan from you, each time the thrusts getting quicker and your soft voice louder, not even beginning to think that there were people on the other side of the thin walls.

“Why so quiet, love? Do you not...like...the way I’m fucking you?” He said between quick thrusts, not giving you the time to make out a single word. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as the knot tied low in your stomach was ready to come untied.

“Answer me.” He ordered, the grip on your hips now almost painful. You opened your eyes to see him leaning down, your legs now almost next to your head on the pillow. Armin hovered over you, now fucking your hole with more ease. You noticed he let out soft, needy whines every time your walls clenched around his cock, to which you grinned slightly. Bad choice.

“Do you think it’s funny? The way you let me fuck you so easily?” A hand now met your hair, pulling your head back into the pillow a bit.

“A-Armin!”

“That’s right. Say my name, whore.” He closed his eyes, taking in the sound of his name coming from your mouth. Your walls clenched around him as the knot finally came undone, and you were sure your juices were spilling on the sheets.

“Please...too sensitive...I can’t-” Your words came out in stutters, your legs closing involuntarily only for Armin to push them open again every time.

“Say my name.” He moaned out, thrusting inside your cunt now almost inhumanly fast.

“Armin!” Your second orgasm was on the way and your legs were starting to shake from the overstimulation. Armin didn’t fail to notice it and he wouldn’t lie if he said he wasn’t close as well, but he had learned to control himself. He couldn’t let it be over so soon. Not when he finally had you where he wanted you all along.

In the heat of the moment, it took you a few seconds to notice a stinging on your cheek, but when you did, you looked up at the blond, who was smirking down at you, hand still on your red cheek.

“Who’s fucking you? Huh?”

“You! You’re fucking me, Armin!”

“Louder.” He grunted, finally giving some attention to your nipples by slapping them teasingly.

“Armin! Armin! Fuck, I’m gonna–”

“Cum on my cock...fuck, ___.” Armin couldn’t take it anymore when your walls clenched around him once again as you orgasmed for the second time that night. Between moans and gasps and whispers of his name, you felt a wave of air hit your core and you realized Armin had pulled out.

He was now rubbing his swollen cock over your stomach, the other hand desperately massaging your breast. To help him, you led his hand to your other breast and took his cock in your own, thumb grazing over his red tip to make the beads of cum coat the rest of his length. Armin tilted his head back, not shy to moan loudly at the way your hand rubbed his length so...perfectly.

“Fuck, just like that. Just like that, love.” His legs shook slightly as his warm cum drew on your stomach and breasts, shooting almost up to your neck due to the overstimulation he went through. Exhausted and out of breath, Armin fell on the pillow next to you and planted a rough kiss on your lips.

“Let me take a picture of you. Don’t move.” Shocked, you couldn’t even blurt out a word at what he suggested, but something deep inside you made you nod in agreement. Maybe that tiny crush you had on Armin for one month on your first year finally decided to come out and play.

“Look at the camera, love. Now, smile. ” He ordered, getting on top of you with an old-fashioned polaroid in hand. He took one of your breasts in his big, soft hand and snapped a picture that he’d later pin over his bed, a reminder for himself and everyone that Armin Arlert always got what he wanted.

~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~

Lmao I hope y’all liked this otherwise it’d be embarrassing. Anyway, requests are always open, leave some for me to do while I procrastinate! <3

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

not allowed iv, m | jjk, myg

pairing(s): est. poly relationship – jungkook x reader x yoongi

summary: Your boyfriends woke up and chose violence. Excuse me, Jeon Jungkook, Min Yoongi? Do you really think you can post one after another on Twitter, send the world into heart palpitations, and not expect your girlfriend to do something about it? Hmm?!

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of the pandemic; reader and Yoongi have giant heart eyes whenever they see each other; feels and fluff; smut (fem reader, dirty talk, nipple play, f and m-receiving oral, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, m-masturbation, double penetration/spit roasting); idol!BTS

that’s right JK posted his blue hair and i absolutely lost it part of ‘not allowed’ series, but can be read alone. basic summary: your boyfriend asked JJK to fuck you, then again, and then they decided to make this a thing; based on real time.

--

Your boyfriends woke up today and chose violence.

Everything was fine. You were on your lunch break, sitting in your kitchen, knowing you would have to get back to work soon. A quick meal and scrub of the dishes left you with you a few minutes to check your phone. You didn’t get many messages throughout the day and you preferred it that way. You took a moment to scroll through social media.

Only to choke a little seeing Jeon Jungkook, the Golden Maknae of BTS, reveal his dark blue locks to the world in the middle of the damn day. Did you almost drop your phone? Yes. Did you not because it was the special edition BTS S20+? Also, yes. The TinyTan SUGA phone case would have protected it anyway, but… still.

You placed your phone aside and went back to your computer, ready to attend work again.

Not quite composed, but it was just a picture, just a picture, just a picture…

Except you knew what Jungkook looked like naked and that wasn’t helping.

Three hours later, you snuck a glance at your phone only to be attacked by the cutest human being in the world, Min Yoongi, SUGA of BTS, sometimes Agust D, all the time lil meow meow because, holy shit, why the fuck was this man so cute? Those damn cheeks. Those eyes. Fuck, you loved his eye shape. And his pretty lips. Damnnit, why couldn’t you kiss him right now?

They’re trying to kill you and ARMY all at once. 

You’re convinced.

You rubbed your temples and took a deep breath.

It is only a coincidence. It doesn’t involve you. They’re only being their usual adorable, attractive selves and giving a gift to the fans. You weren’t delusional. It was their job to do things like this. You knew this and you were used to it. You’ve seen Yoongi say all kinds of things in V-LIVEs and you always thought it was funny. Lately, he hadn’t been responding to them much though. As for Jungkook, well.

Everyone in the world wanted Jungkook, including you, so could you blame the world? No.

Jungkook tried to tell you before that he was shy and you recalled all those see-through shirts he’d worn on stage. All those ab reveals. Hmm, you weren’t fooled.

“I wanted to make sure you were looking at me, noona,” Jungkook had teased you, hooking his arms around your waist. “I had to get your attention somehow.”

Yeah, yeah, your attention and millions of other people.

It made you laugh, until he became your boyfriend, and now it made you choke on air like every other human being who saw him looking that good. Before you had the safety of giving your full attention to Yoongi. Yoongi had always been your priority and you wanted to make sure he felt that way.

Little by little.

Jungkook grew up.

And became harder and harder to ignore.

Even more difficult when Yoongi gave him the apartment key and told him to fuck you in his stead.

You heard your phone ping. You checked your messages, saving your work in the process.

That will teach you to post such sexy pictures.

You twitched. Excuse me? What was Jungkook talking about? Your personal, private Instagram was for expressing your – sometimes eccentric – fashion sense. Was he referring to the images you posted for Valentine’s Day, the ones with the white vinyl coat, red stockings, and sky-high red heels? Hmph. You couldn’t even see your face in those. Actually, you deliberately cut off most of your face in all of your pictures. The most you showed were your lips, always painted to match your outfit. You didn’t want anyone to recognize you, even by happenstance.

Made taking pictures much easier, since you never had to do eye makeup or worry about accidentally making ugly faces.

It was private now, but it wasn’t before, and the only reason you privated it was because you started dating Yoongi. You still wanted it use it as an outlet though, so you left it as is, with your follower count unchanging. It wasn’t that many people to begin with and you were pretty sure a lot of the accounts were bots.

In any case, sometimes you felt like being creative and dressing up, thus you did so on Instagram. You couldn’t dress like that when you went to visit Yoongi. Ah, and now Jungkook too. To be honest, you loved fashion and trying on different looks, but it wasn’t possible unless you were alone. And you were alone a lot, with no one but strangers to appreciate (or be confused by) it.

Might as well take a picture, right?

And if you could tease Yoongi a little, at least from a distance, that was even better.

You forgot Jungkook also followed you now though. 

Dammit. 

Had the photos been sexy? Sure. Provocative, lots of leg, almost a peek of ass but not quite. Red lips to stand out against the white. If the coat was black, it would have been more traditionally fetishist, but that's why you had picked shiny white vinyl. Brighter for the cute holiday. 

Who are you kidding? You wore it to provoke Yoongi.

He texted you after you posted it. Usually, he said things along the lines of, pretty, cute, you look crazy, I like it. Only sometimes did he say...

what the fuck

You had asked him if he liked your post today. 

I'm not trying to pop a boner in the middle of practice, control yourself woman.

Maybe don't post such cute selfies then, you had thought. Then your phone pinged again. 

Send a picture with the coat open. Jungkook wants to see. 

Oh, so now that the maknae was involved, he was going to pin things on the younger one. Two can play at this game. You sent the photo to Jungkook first. You knew that if the situation was reversed, Yoongi would have done the same. Jungkook's reaction had been hilarious.

Noona?! WHAT???

And then a slew of head exploding emojis.

Yoongi had been agitated until you finally sent him the picture too. It had been a fun incident.

Until your boyfriends woke up today and chose violence.

Dammit. 

You stared at blue-haired Jungkook and 'Blue and Grey' Yoongi from the MTV Unplugged performance. 

This just wasn’t allowed. 

-

This visit had a purpose, but then you saw Min Yoongi standing in the hallway waiting for you, wearing an olive-green shirt, hands in the pockets of his black sweatpants, small smile on his lips. Purring your name lovingly after you closed the door, and you realized you missed him so very much, his lovely dark brown eyes and dark hair, and then you were suddenly in his arms and he was hugging you. 

With both arms. 

Yoongi was recovering well and he still couldn't do strenuous activity yet, but he was hugging you with both arms and you wanted to cry because it was so nice to have them both around you. You could've been cool and collected, yet somehow both you and Yoongi had the same idea to first hug and breathe in each other, his fresh, woodsy scent strongly invading your nose and his soft cheek against yours.

"You smell different."

"Do you like it?" you mumbled into his neck, kissing it lightly. 

"Mhm."

You thought it had worn off by now, but the new perfume you had purchased lingered far longer than you imagined, clinging to your hair. Warm spiced sweetness with a hint of sharp smoke. Yoongi inhaled deeply beside you.

"You should wear more perfume," he murmured, hands kneading your waist.

"Someone might notice."

"Nah, your taste similar enough to mine."

He was taking off your coat and you were stepping out of your shoes, being pulled deeper into the apartment, and now his kisses were yours, soft and light, every one saying, I missed you, I want you, I love you. There no need for words when it was Min Yoongi. Fingers tapping down your waist, pulling your oversized black shirt up and over your head. 

"Excuse me?"

You pooped your head out to see Yoongi staring at your chest, jaw dropped and eyes wide. Oh, right. You had been so occupied with hugs and kisses that you almost forgot. Your shirt fluttered to the floor, forgotten.

You smirked. 

"Surprise."

Yoongi made a face at you. Somewhere between angry, aroused, and shock. Good. Serves you right for posting such a cute selfie.

The front door opened. 

Both of you instantly moved, you sliding behind him and into the bedroom, Yoongi standing in front of you, masking your frame. The discarded shirt and jacket could be explained away – that's why you wore oversized men's clothes, usually in Yoongi's preferred color palette.

"Hyung?"

Oh, whew. Actually, wait. No, this was danger. 

"Ah, Jungkookie."

Yoongi placed his hand on your arm and you popped your head over the corner once you heard the door close. Yup. A swift shake of dark blue locks, white sweatshirt and loose black sweatpants, and that mischievous smirk with a wrinkle of his nose. 

Danger.

"Hey, noona!"

Damnnit, planning for two is hard! You couldn't just go put your shirt on and do the grand reveal again. Yoongi grasped your upper arm with his right hand and yanked you from the doorframe. You squeaked, body stumbling into Jungkook’s view.

"Did you plan this?" Yoongi asked with a cocked brow. 

Jungkook's eyes went wide. 

"Uh... no, but I like where this is going," Jungkook replied, smirk growing. 

The black lace bra stood out against your skin, strappy and elegant, molding to the swells of your breasts and the curve downward to your waist, matching the garter belt that disappeared into the black jeans you were wearing. You didn't usually wear lingerie. It wasn't practical and if you accidentally left something behind... it wasn't worth the risk. Yoongi and you took every precaution to not fuck this up. 

Therefore, you only wore lingerie on your private Instagram. 

Only showing little flashes, never the whole picture. And, really, you wore it in your photos to mess with them. It made you feel nice too, so it was a win-win. This set was familiar to Yoongi and Jungkook because you had worn the red version in the original Valentine’s Day themed photos. 

Again, you didn't usually wear lingerie, but Jungkook and Yoongi couldn't just post pictures on Twitter back-to-back, two-shot you, and not expect a damn reaction. That kind of shit wasn't tolerated! On top of all that, you had to wait and get properly tested before getting here. This pandemic extended your frustrations. So, yes, fuck it, you wore the damn lingerie that made you feel the sexiest. Even if your jeans were still on, you knew you looked good. 

No one had to tell you. You checked in the mirror before you left. 

"Is this your response to my text a couple days ago?" Jungkook teased, kicking off his shoes and bounding over to you two. His dark blue hair shimmered in the light, like a night sky covered with stars, smile pure and naughty at the same time, lighting up his whole face. 

Fuck you for being hot, Jeon Jungkook!

You leaned back against Yoongi, crossing your arms under your breasts, pressing them together. Jungkook grinned, the mole underneath his lower lip winking at you. 

"Something like that," you coolly replied. Shit, there was an edge to your voice. Hopefully neither Yoongi or Jungkook picked that up.

"Hmm..." 

Jungkook pursed his lips, the tip of his pink tongue sticking out the side. Ack. You had to look away. You turned and bumped your lace-covered tits against Yoongi's chest. His dark brown orbs flickered to your breasts, sly smile on his lips. 

"This is your fault too, by the way."

Yoongi raised his eyebrows, amused. "What do you mean?"

You dropped your hands, surveying him suspiciously. "You think I don't know? Posting right after Jungkook? That's not allowed! You know what that does to me."

Yoongi leaned forward. Your breath caught in your throat, heart beating fast all of a sudden. You backed up, right into Jungkook's chest. Uh oh. Yoongi hummed, black hair shadowing his face, devious sparkle in those dangerous eyes, his voice a raspy, purring drawl. 

"What does it do to you?"

Your hand fell back to brace yourself and Jungkook's fingers wrapped around your wrist, stroking your skin. You felt him shift behind you and then his lips were on your ear, whispering in his silvery voice. 

"Yeah, noona. Tell us.” His grip on your wrist tightened, squeezing lightly, asserting his presence behind you. “Or you can show us."

...

!!!

How dare they tag team you? First, they visually attack you – and millions of other ARMY – in the middle of the workday, and now this, Yoongi closing in, kissing you once more, deeper, hungrier, with dark intent, smirking against your lips as Jungkook took both your hands, ghosting his long fingers over yours. You whimpered into Yoongi's mouth, body tensing, Jungkook pressing himself into your back, breath against your hair. 

"You smell different," he murmured.

You couldn't reply. Yoongi was sucking on your tongue, making you whine. 

"Warm, sweet, and spicy."

Yoongi released you and you gasped for air, bucking into Jungkook's crotch. "I bought it last week... thought it smelled nice..."

Jungkook nuzzled your hair. "I like it. Makes me horny."

You laughed a little, turning your hands around in his to lace your fingers together. He held your hands firmly, grinding his crotch into your ass. You could already feel his arousal through your jeans.

"Sounds dangerous," you mused. 

"It is," Yoongi chuckled. "But you should keep wearing it anyway. You smell good."

Heat rose to your cheeks. Then you realized your jeans were already undone, being daintily pushed down by deft hands and an amused expression, Yoongi crouching to pull them along. Bit by bit, revealing the matching garter belt, the high-cut black lace panties that framed your thighs, and lace-topped sheer stockings, all the straps emphasizing your softness, sinking into your thighs and ass.

"Fuck..." Yoongi breathed, running his fingertips over the delicate fabric, touch so light against your skin, dancing up your knee. "You're so fucking beautiful."

He looked up at you, eyes so dark they seemed black, playful smirk on those perfect pink lips. Thump. You felt Jungkook pull your arms back and press them to his sides. You grabbed fistfuls of Jungkook’s shirt, staring down at Yoongi advancing between your legs, his smirk growing wider and more teasing, lovely voice low and husky, deep with arousal.

"What's the matter?" Yoongi purred. "Cat got your tongue?"

Your body tensed in anticipation, Jungkook's hands crawling around your sides, one tattooed, one not, fingers hovering over your now trembling chest. Looking down at Yoongi's smug expression, tongue flicking out and teasing you. Reminding you how good he was and how long you'd been waiting. 

Fuck you for being hot, Min Yoongi!

"Don't overexert yourself..." you breathed.

A sculpted brow lifted. 

"I have help now," he reminded you and Jungkook's hands sank into your barely-covered breasts. 

"Fuck..." Jungkook hissed into your ear, running his palms over your nipples, listening to your gasps as Yoongi dived between your thighs, hot tongue sliding against the lace. "Missed these tits so fucking much." His lips on your ear, growling your name, that dominant edge to his silvery voice, tweaking the hardened nubs while Yoongi teased your clothed clit with his tongue, the lace hardly a barrier but still an effective one, the rough threads plucking against your sensitive nerves.

How long had it been? So long, almost forever since Yoongi’s tongue was on you, soft and fast and the perfect pressure, deliberately teasing you and not moving the fabric aside, so close yet so far. If it wasn’t Yoongi, maybe you could tell him to move it, maybe you could beg, but you couldn’t speak because of Yoongi’s tongue and Jungkook’s rough touch, his hands on your breasts, pushing them together, your nipples poking tiny tents in the black lace, running his fingertips over them over and over, his hips grinding into your ass. Yoongi cupped one of your ass cheeks and spread them, your panties bunching in the center, Jungkook’s hardness slipping in, still covered by his sweatpants.

Wetter, hotter, sanity slipping little by little.

“Y-Yoongi… J-Jungkook…”

You tried not to shove your hips in Yoongi’s face, not wanting to strain his neck, and ended up pushing back instead, bouncing against Jungkook’s cock. The younger man snickered, nipping at your ear, pinching your nipples, and you felt a slick squelch as Yoongi’s tongue pushed the lace into your dripping pussy. The moans dragged out of your throat, eyelids fluttering, letting them do whatever they wanted, pleasure flooding all your senses, watching Yoongi wreck you, clutching Jungkook’s sweatshirt, panting their names, leaking more and more, the scent of your juices getting stronger and sweeter.

“This isn’t fair…” you panted. “I’m going c-crazy…”

Yoongi hummed on your clit and you cried out, hips rocking, so good, head tipping onto Jungkook’s broad shoulder, his long blue hair brushing against your cheek and eyelashes.

“Good, because you make us crazy,” Jungkook muttered, pushing your breasts together and squeezing them roughly. His voice was so deep you could feel your back vibrate with his words. His other hand came up and gripped your chin, trailing down and fitting around your neck, the loose sleeve falling and revealing his forearm tattoos, contrasting your lace-covered skin. “Always looking so fucking pretty and making me want to fuck you…”

His index finger came up and pressed against your lower lip. Those chocolatey eyes were watching your face from his peripheral vision, smirking as he witnessed your expression.

“Even showing off these sexy, fuckable lips. That’s not fair either, noona.”

“T-That’s not…”

Jungkook’s hand at your throat dropped and you yelped, his large palm fitting around your right thigh and lifting it up, fingers sinking in. Stockings, lace, garter, Jungkook’s touch, holding your leg up and out, giving Yoongi a perfect view of your glistening core. Then there was more, too much more, Yoongi pushing aside your panties, soaked fabric snapping against the inside of your thigh and then his mouth was directly on you, oh, fuck, his tongue on your throbbing clit, lips wrapped around it, pure suffocating ecstasy, your slick juices dripping down his chin, so easy, it was just too easy for Yoongi to make you feel so fucking good and he looked so sexy doing it too, those cat-like eyes piercing into you, ordering you to cum for him, to spill all over his beautiful face.

“Yoongi… fuck, your tongue is so fucking good–”

Your body rippled with pleasure and you flung your head to the side, away from Jungkook’s ear to moan far too loud, filling up the entire hallway, wanton and lewd, absolutely pornographic and sinful in nature, orgasm gushing into Yoongi’s waiting mouth, shuddering against Jungkook’s hard body. So many sensations, too many sensations. Yoongi sank his nails into your ass, growling as he sucked out your cum and drank it, Jungkook grinding his stiff length in between your ass cheeks, spreading your leg so far that your left one was quivering with strain, tits squashed in Jungkook’s left hand, his warm tongue on your ear, whispering darkly. Dirty, sensual, and your pussy couldn’t stop throbbing, Min Yoongi’s mouth and Jeon Jungkook’s low octave driving you insane.

“You look so fucking good, noona. Your body is so fucking perfect, so sexy wrapped up in lace,” he exhaled, sliding his palm over your nipples roughly, earning more depraved moans. He lowered your leg, slowly, Yoongi lapping at your clit, sending shocks of pleasure up your torso as he cleaned you off. Jungkook’s hand slid down over your stomach, flicking the straps against your skin, small snaps of pain that made you gasp, trapped in Jungkook’s power, letting him take over you. He took a step back, forcing you to arch your spine and look up at him, a curtain of cobalt surrounding that handsome face and those intense brown eyes.

No one could make you feel the way Yoongi made you feel. No one.

So...

Why did staring up at Jungkook like this do things to you? Why did it put your heart on a string and tension in your throat? Get it together. You weren't a teenager. Ask for what you want. He was just so insanely attractive in every way.

Jungkook smirked and you wanted him to ruin you. 

He lifted you up easily. You saw Yoongi standing up and wiping his chin, self-satisfied and amused. He tilted his head and plucked one of the straps on your stomach, a light, erotic sting. Yoongi made eye contact with you, locking you in his gaze. A single look, and your heart was fluttering, immediately smitten. One by one, fingers wrapping around a few of the straps and pulling you to him, backing up, leading you to the bed by own your lingerie. 

"Why today?" Yoongi drawled, tracing the curve of the bra cup, sending shivers over your skin. "Feeling risky?"

You raised a brow, focusing on him, trapped in those cat-like eyes. 

"Control yourself. Aren't you used to this body by now?"

Yoongi grinned devilishly, darting closer, leaving you breathless in his speed. The scent of his cologne and your orgasm lingered on his skin, a delicious combination. 

"Never."

Kissing you, taking your startled inhale, and you could taste yourself, fuck, just something about his skilled lips and your taste had your fingers twisting into Yoongi's shirt, rolling your body into his, still being so careful, but it was so hard because he was making it so hard, teasing you with that deft tongue, bursts of pleasure with every heartbeat you had while captured in Yoongi's lips. You missed it, this intensity, the overwhelming feeling that Yoongi gave you, being able to give in to the want, but you still couldn't give in without abandon, but you were so close. 

So close. 

Ruin me. 

He pushed you lightly and you felt another pair of arms wrap around you, the kiss suddenly broken, but the second touch was familiar now, one tattooed arm, one not, and you knew that if you fell, these arms could catch you.

Jungkook put you in his lap, your back touching his bare chest. Oh, shit. Before you could think much about it, he turned you so you were laying in his arms princess-style. He must have removed his sweatshirt while you were talking to Yoongi, but he still wearing his pants, now sitting in the side of the bed, blue hair messy from your hands and the removal of his clothes. Your arms hooked around his neck instinctively, not wanting to fall, but he had his right hand splayed across your shoulder blades, holding you up securely. 

"Mmm, this is nice," Jungkook murmured, playfully smiling. He nuzzled your nose, tongue flicking over your lips. "Why did you make us wait so long, hm?"

You frowned, breath against his chin. "The number of cases got higher... and you all were so busy... I couldn't get tested until recently."

Jungkook made a disgruntled noise. 

"Hey, public health and safety is important."

He pouted at you. "But..."

"He's horny and wants to fuck," Yoongi cut in.

"Hyung…!"

Yoongi pulled up his chair and sat down, looking amused. 

"He's been jacking off to your pictures."

"N-no, I haven't!"

"Really? I have."

Yoongi's face was completely neutral. It was hard to tell if he was lying or not. 

Jungkook tried to hide his flushed face with your hair. "... M-Maybe I h-have..."

"Tsk, tsk, naughty Jungkookie," you teased.

"Noona..."

"And you?"

You felt Yoongi grasp your chin, tipping you back in Jungkook's arms. Some of your hair fell over your eyes, hazing your vision of Yoongi. Even so, his intent was obvious. You could feel it in his gaze, the burning hunger, his fingertips caressing your chin, leaning forward slightly to observe you. 

I want to ruin you. 

Yoongi didn't have to say it. You knew it, pierced by the predatory glint in his eyes. You could tell he missed this, could tell that he wanted to give in to his desires, wanted to lose control, only limited by his own physical body.

However. 

He pressed his thumb into your lower lip, lifting a brow. 

Jungkook was here now.

Yoongi gave you his trademark open-mouthed smirk. 

"Ruin me," you whispered, staring into those cat-like dark brown eyes. The recognition was instant, pleased that you knew what he wanted. You shifted your attention to the maknae, his chocolate eyes wide, watching your tongue slide out and licking Yoongi's thumb. "Ruin me, Jungkook."

You loved the way Jungkook could turn from blushing anxiousness to sly confidence, and all it took was your words and the way you said them, enabling him in the best way possible. The dark blue hair helped accented the shift in demeanor, creating cool-toned shadows over his lightly tanned skin. 

"Anything for you," Jungkook purred.

You gasped sharply as you felt two fingers slide into you, Jungkook’s thumb rubbing your overstimulated clit. Your body jerked, trying to get away, but Yoongi's hand on your chin slid down, pressing on your chest, holding you still, your name a dangerous rasp from Yoongi's lips.

"Stay still."

Your eyes flickered down. Right hand. Okay. You shouldn’t be worried anymore, but you were. It was habit.

"Yoon–ah!"

You gasped, left arm firmly behind Jungkook's shoulders and the other behind you, your hand on the bed to steady your balance as Yoongi shoved the bra cups down, exposing your breasts. He lowered his head, the contact of his lips on your hot skin paired with Jungkook's thrust of his fingers into your pussy. Instant waves of pleasure overtook you, fingers sinking into the sheets and Jungkook’s hair, fuck, his beautiful navy hair standing out against your skin and, for some reason, seeing that made you feel prettier, thrusting your chest in Yoongi’s face to get more into his mouth, spreading your legs wide to give Jungkook more access.

Only a brief moment of, I should know better, I shouldn’t be doing this, and then Yoongi’s eyes were on you, tongue flicking your red nipple.

Let go.

Was this even fair to them? Could you satisfy both? Could you and should you? But Yoongi’s eyes were telling you to let go, to chase the feeling, to give in, and hunt the desperation and the want. They wanted you. There was nothing like this and there will never be anything like this again.

“Give it to me,” Yoongi growled.

You whined sharply as you felt two more fingers push into you, but not Jungkook’s fingers, Yoongi’s fingers, his thumb joining Jungkook’s on your clit and your eyes rolled back, so wet and aroused from knowing both Jungkook’s and Yoongi’s fingers were thrusting into you, four in total, your pussy sucking them in, back arching as Yoongi sucked on your nipple. So much pleasure, rapidly ascending higher and higher, so fucking full and tight that their fingers were making sloppy smacking sounds, matching rhythm so they filled you completely together, all at once.

You couldn’t stop your hips from meeting them, fingers spreading out in Jungkook’s hair and the sheets as you came hard, gasping their names, euphoria soaring through your nerves, and still they didn’t stop even though your pussy was violently spasming, creating a messy splatter of your juices on the inside of your thighs and their hands. Instead, the pace changed, Yoongi switching sides on your chest, and then you really couldn’t think, because Jungkook was lowering his head too, and now both of your nipples were getting abused, Jungkook’s arm firmly under your upper back to hold you up, not letting you fall.

“Yoongi, Jungkook… p-please, oh fuck!”

Your other hand flew up and buried in Yoongi’s dark locks, both hands in their hair now, one blue, one black, another orgasm crashing down, moan torn from your chest. And they kept going, changing the pace again, your toes and fingers curling, every muscle tense with irresistible, consuming ecstasy that you almost felt a little numb, unable to compute anything else but your body scantily covered in lace, two mouths sucking on your nipples, four fingers stuffed into you, clit engorged and sending violent shocks throughout your system. You couldn’t even discern one orgasm from another, pussy continuously throbbing and convulsing with the continuous, chained orgasms, so wet that it was soaking the tops of your stockings, the sweet honey of your cum the predominant scent in the room.

“I… I-I can’t take a-anymore, please…”

Your legs threatened to close but Yoongi snapped his head up, snarling your name dangerously.

“One more,” he ordered. “Give us one more.”

“Your pussy feels so good,” Jungkook panted, saliva dripping down your chest. “I love it so fucking much, even when it’s around my fingers.”

You were trying to hold back, trying to control it, tensing everything, your core, your legs, your arms, and you didn’t even realize it, but you held your breath too, biting your lip and seeing Yoongi and Jungkook at the same time, both watching you, fingers punishingly squelching into your tight little hole, stretching it out unforgivingly, abused clit pulsating so hard it almost hurt, and it was exactly what you wanted, brimming, boiling pleasure that threatened you on the brink, closer, closer, closer, and the world was almost hazy with how ferociously you had constricted the coil.

“Fuck!”

You threw your head back, back abruptly arching and smacking them in the face with your tits as everything came plummeting down, resolve cracking with a wanton howl, orgasm racking through your entire frame so hard that your body lurched and flinched, Yoongi and Jungkook cradling you while you rode your high, grinding your hips into their hands and carnally moaning, liquid gushing out and dripping down your legs, your ass, down Jungkook’s sweatpants and onto the bed.

It was such an intense orgasm that you were lightheaded, hands slipping out of their hair and falling down, drained, aftershocks causing your body to shudder, even as they removed their fingers. Your clit was still throbbing, pumps of pleasure spreading through you.

It was obscene witnessing Yoongi and Jungkook cleaning their fingers off right in front of you, pink tongues sliding between the digits, licking off your viscous cum, giving you a perverse sense of satisfaction when Yoongi moaned softly and Jungkook groaned lowly, savoring your taste like a fine wine. Yoongi spied your exhausted, smug expression.

“Do you think you’re done?”

You gave him a weak smirk. “I better not be.”

“Sit in Jungkook’s lap,” Yoongi said calmly. “Face me.”

You tilted your head curiously but did as you were told, shifting your still quivering legs so your thighs were on the outside of Jungkook’s thighs, the balance a little difficult, but Yoongi took your hands and placed them around his hips. You held onto him as he lifted his shirt, pulling it over his head.

“Jungkook, rip her panties off.”

Wait, what did Min Yoongi just s–?

Two strong hands dug out the lace trapped in your ass and fastened around the thin fabric.

Riiiiiiip!

“Yoongi!”

The shirt fluffed his black hair as he removed it, dropping it onto his chair. You glared at him as Yoongi looked down at you, expression blank, dark brown orbs full of mischief.

“You knew it was going to happen. If he wasn’t going to rip it, I was.” Yoongi placed his right hand on his left shoulder. His tone dropped, mockingly rueful. “You wouldn’t want me to hurt myself, right?”

Yeah, this was why you didn’t wear lingerie.

But, also, this was why you wore it today.

You felt Jungkook tugging off the now useless pair of panties, plucking them out from under your garter belt. Oh well. You liked the red more anyway. That’s why you had bought two sets, after all.

“Remind me to take all the bits before I go,” you grumbled.

“Sure, noona.” Jungkook dangled the said lacy bits next to your head. You narrowed your eyes and mouth into slits even though he couldn’t see. “I’ll put them in my pocket.” You felt him shove them into his sweatpants.

Were you… going to remember?

Yoongi beckoned you. You shot him a warning look, still annoyed, but Yoongi pointed down to your hands on his hips.

“Isn’t there something you want?” Yoongi mused in that raspy, dark tone, the one that made your irritation fade instantly and replace it with arousal. “Take it.”

He cocked his head, shading his dark eyes with his hair, pink lips parting, the slightest hint of a smirk. Challenging you. Go on. Show me how much you want me. Your body still buzzed with the aftermath of moments before and yet you still lowered your head, sliding your hips back, sucking in a breath as your puffy pussy lips touched Jungkook’s toned chest, smearing yourself on his skin.

“Ooh, I like this,” Jungkook murmured, leaning back a little to give you space. You rocked your hips into his torso, his muscles flexing under you opening, inflamed clit brushing against his hardness. You pushed Yoongi’s pants and underwear down, dipping your head, hearing Yoongi breathe your name lustfully.

“That’s a pretty picture.”

He was only semi-hard, but he was getting harder and harder, watching you grind against Jungkook’s pecs. You knew exactly how to get him the hardest, dipping down and latching your mouth around one of his balls.

“Fuck, yes,” Yoongi gasped, his hand coming up and fitting behind your head. You sucked it into your mouth and then extended your tongue, bouncing the other with your wet muscle while sucking the first one. The first time you did this, Yoongi was literally speechless, sputtering and confused at how you could stimulate both at once and in two different ways, sucking with your lips as your tongue flicked against the other, slurping slightly to add vibration over the sensitive skin. You felt his cock swell, smacking your cheek, fully hard at the combined sensations.

“I still don’t know how you do that,” Yoongi gritted out, keeping your hair away from your face.

“Do what?” Jungkook asked behind you, one hand on your ass and squeezing it.

“She can suck one of your balls and lick the other at the same time.”

“What?!”

You yelped at the sharp sting of Jungkook’s slap to your ass.

“How come you never did that for me?” Jungkook complained, whining a little.

You tried to lift your head, but Yoongi’s hand refused to move. You make a muffled noise of distaste, but Yoongi answered for you as you switched sides.

“Have you asked?” Yoongi replied calmly, sighing in satisfaction.

“How am I supposed to know she has porn star skills?”

“Is this a discussion for right now?” you mumbled into Yoongi’s balls.

“No, because you’re supposed to be swallowing.”

“Wha–”

The second your mouth opened, Yoongi nudged his cock between your lips and you wrapped them around it, moaning as his stiff length slid down your throat, so satisfying, his taste on your tongue, so delicious that you didn’t even want to complain, you only wanted to bob your head up and down, hands on his hips. Yoongi chuckled above you, guiding your head with his right hand, left loosely by his side. You slid your lower body up and down Jungkook’s chest, your increased slickness adding more stimulation.

“Fuck, that’s so damn hot,” you heard Jungkook groan. There was a rustle of fabric and then skin on skin, his muscular arm brushing against your stocking clad thigh with every stroke.

If only you could take a picture and could see how sexy you were, blowing Yoongi with his hand behind your head, tucking the head of his cock into your throat a little deeper every time you descended, your pussy sliding up and down Jungkook’s chest, and Jungkook furiously jacking himself off while watching you suck his hyung off, feeling your slippery clit throb against his skin.

Good thing the door was locked, because of any other member walked in on this, it might have become a damn foursome.

“Close,” Yoongi panted, fingers digging into your scalp. “You want it like this?”

You hummed approvingly in your chest, increasing your pace and fucking Jungkook’s torso harder, nearing your end too, Jungkook moaning louder and pumping himself harder. So many indecent sounds, skin on skin, mouth on skin, hand on skin, moaning, crying out around Yoongi’s cock, his saliva-covered balls smacking you in the chin, you ass slapping down on Jungkook’s chest.

Hot, wet, positively sinful.

The chain reaction started with Jungkook. He came suddenly, choking on your name, shooting up your chest, warm stickiness splattering onto your skin and you squeezed your eyes shut, moaning as you came all over his chest, slippery and sweet, drenching his skin, throat muscles tightening, Yoongi whimpering your name, a rare moment of lost control as he thrust his hips into your lips, coating your throat with thick hot strings, forcing you to swallow fast, the pressure satisfying and overwhelming, gulping it all down eagerly.

You did ask to be ruined.

Just… a little more.

Your eyes were still closed, lazily licking Yoongi’s twitching length. He was panting above you, gently stroking your hair, words so soft that they were almost inaudible.

“I love you…”

You went all the way down and Yoongi groaned, your tongue flicking the top of his balls, rapid, swift laps that made his cock swell again, bending against the roof of your mouth. Yoongi chuckled, knowing exactly what you were doing.

“Still want more?”

You backed up, panting hard, Jungkook’s cum clinging to your chest and lingerie, hair a mess from Yoongi’s hand.

“Want your cock in my pussy,” you demanded hoarsely. “Want you to fuck me, Yoongi.”

He pretended to think about it. “Hmm, I don’t know…”

You got off Jungkook’s lap, snaking around the younger man’s body, crawling onto the bed, eyes on Yoongi, his intense gaze following you, enticed by your movement. On all fours, hips in the air, dropping your chest down a little, the curve of your back accentuating the roundness of your bare ass. Still in your garter belt and stockings, your bra half-off, the lowered cups pushing your breasts together invitingly. Jungkook turned his head, pink lips parting as your fingers fanned out over the sheets, one eyebrow arching gracefully.

“Jungkook in front. Yoongi behind.”

“Do… Do you want a towel or something, noona?” Jungkook asked, blinking rapidly at your assertiveness.

“I want to get fucked and I want to get fucked now, so get over here.”

“Bed’s going to be a mess,” Yoongi remarked, moving quickly, shedding his pants and going for the nightstand, taking out a condom.

“We can sleep in Jungkook’s room,” was your dry reply, yanking Jungkook’s hips towards you after he removed his sweatpants.

“Wha– ack!”

You spread his legs out in front of you, eyes roaming over his naked body, admiring it all, his legs, his abs, his pecs, covered in your drying juices, his adorable surprised face, navy curls around his chiseled cheeks, chocolate eyes round and awed at your prowess. Your hands were on his knees, breasts hanging down, breathing hard, adrenaline humming in your veins.

“You are so fucking pretty it’s unreal,” Jungkook breathed.

You grinned.

“I can’t wait for you to fuck my face.”

Jungkook grinned back at you.

You dove down, tits bouncing before becoming squashed against the bed, Jungkook’s drying cum flaking off as you wrapped your lips around one of his balls, moaning as you felt Yoongi’s hands firmly grip your hips.

“You have to help me a little,” Yoongi murmured.

“I will, hyung.”

“I mean her too,” the older man chuckled, smacking your ass playfully. Your tongue flitted out, slurping at Jungkook’s other ball from the side of your mouth as you sucked the first one, wiggling your ass at Yoongi to indicate that you heard him. Jungkook yelped, hands slamming down onto the pillows and clutching them, moaning out your name.

“What the fuck, what the fuck, holy shit…” His head hit the headboard lightly, speaking to the ceiling and maybe even the higher power himself. “H-How...? Why does it feel s-so good…?”

You felt Yoongi slide in, so easy because of all those back-to-back orgasms, and yet he still hissed at your tightness, muscles holding him firmly. You could cry with how good it felt, Yoongi finally fully inside you once again, filling you up just the way you liked, knowing how to hit your deepest spot right away, skillful and wonderful. You licked up Jungkook’s now hard length, moaning deeply as you slapped your hips back into Yoongi’s crotch. Yoongi moaned to match yours, enraptured by the feeling.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good,” he hissed, nails digging into your ass. “Missed you so fucking much, my love.”

“I’ll do the moving, love,” you gasped back, squeezing Yoongi’s cock inside you. You reached for Jungkook’s right hand and grabbed it, planting it on your head. “Fuck my face, Jungkook. Please. Don’t hold back until you cum.”

Jungkook bit his lip, exhaling your name. “I think I love you.”

“And I definitely love you, so please give it to me.”

You closed your lips around him and sank down, looking up at him and his sweaty dark blue hair, his blown-out pupils, his outstretched tattooed arm, so fucking hot, fuck yes you loved him, him and his body and his work ethic and his sweetness and his firmness as he obeyed your command, thrusting into your mouth from below, filling your throat with the thick head.

Perfect.

You rocked your hips back to Jungkook’s rhythm, matching him, slow at first, but gradually faster, rougher, planting your hands on the bed for balance, completely focused on clenching your core and your mouth to fit the two cocks, giving them the maximum amount of pleasure that you could offer, suffocating them with tightness. It if was obscene before, it was ten times obscener now, Yoongi’s hand on your hip, barely having to move as you smacked your ass into him, Jungkook lurching you forward with his force, clenching his jaw as he chased his release, the bed screaming for help and none of you listening.

“You’re so fucking sexy, fuck, you always make me feel so good, can’t help but want you, need you, miss you so fucking much,” Jungkook gritted out, fingers curling in your hair, desperately and viscerally whimpering out your name as you tipped your head to change the angle, the sensitive head dragging against the roof of your mouth as he buried himself in your throat. “You’re so good to me, such a soft and tight mouth, fuck.”

You arched your back a little more, Yoongi hitting you deeper, hearing him suck in a tight breath at your movement.

“Tighter,” Yoongi growled. “I’m close, come on, give it to me.”

And then he smacked your ass with his open palm, making you moan around Jungkook’s thick cock, pussy clenching around Yoongi’s entire length, and then again, smack! Control slipping with every hit, falling into Jungkook’s pace, the sheer force of his hips pushing you down on Yoongi’s cock over and over, now only focused on hollowing out your cheeks and gripping Yoongi’s cock, the sudden twitching indicating that Yoongi was close, so close, holding out a little so he could watch you longer, torturing you just the way you liked, but he couldn’t hold out for long because you didn’t let him, walls pulsating around him brutally as you came, stuffed so full that you couldn’t think. Yoongi groaned your name, gripping your ass with both hands and digging his nails in your softness, cock jolting as he came in thick pumps, filling up the condom and swelling it against your walls.

It took Jungkook a little longer, but not that much longer, your mouth still locked tight and he hissed out your name, whimpering as he came down your throat, filling it with cum once again, so fast that you had to swallow hastily to breathe, and yet there was more, thick salty dribbles that made you moan, so delicious that you leaned into it, sucking Jungkook dry.

“A-ah, n-noona…”

Your body ached, flinching from oversensitivity, your mind swimming with pleasure. Had it ever felt this good before? You slid off Jungkook’s cock, falling against his thigh and using it like a pillow, chest heaving, sticky all over, lips overused, pussy throbbing, barely realizing that Yoongi had pulled out, far too spent to see straight.

“Fuck, I love you two…”

Yoongi’s face suddenly appeared, smug expression above you. He had crawled over your body, ruffled black hair hanging down, dark cat eyes gleaming.

“Romantic.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“Mmm.”

He leaned down and kissed you, smiling against your lips, mouthing his love to you, forming each word against your skin slowly so you knew. You smiled back, showering him with light pecks, mouthing the words back to him. Yoongi purred and lifted himself up, taking you with him.

“I can’t move,” you complained, using your arms to push yourself up to avoid straining Yoongi’s shoulders. He chuckled, not the least bit fooled by your whines. He pushed you into Jungkook’s hard chest, covered in sweat and cum, and sandwiched you between them, your face right beside Jungkook’s, cheek to cheek. You could feel the heat in his face, his hair sticking to it.

“Noona?”

“Hm?”

Everything was far too messy for this cuddle session, but that could wait.

“Is it okay if I love you?” Jungkook mumbled, burying his nose in your hair.

“Mhm,” Yoongi responded, sounding sleepy.

You brushed Jungkook’s hair away from his face. “I would very much like that.”

“Everything is dirty,” Yoongi grumbled.

“You are a main contributor,” you said cheerfully.

Yoongi grunted, leaning against you, squashing you a little harder against Jungkook. Nothing to complain about. You were enjoying every second of this.

“Jungkookie?”

“Hm, noona?”

You reached up and ran a hand through his dark cerulean hair. Jungkook hummed appreciatively, closing his eyes at your touch.

“You know this shade is Cookie Monster blue, right?”

“… Hah?”

“Does that make you Ggukkie Monster?”

Yoongi burst out laughing, raspy and full, a rare moment of Min Yoongi absolutely losing his shit.

-

part v "Sorry, Jungkook, you're not allowed this time."

--

masterpost

[bopbopstyles]

MUCH TOO MUCH

RATING: R/smut (some sex, some alcohol/drugs, cursing, the usual)

WORD COUNT: 9.7k

CATEGORIES: college!harry, roommate!harry

MASTERLIST | ASK ME QUESTIONS

a/n: this is my entry for my beloved @stellarboystyles​‘s 3 year anniversary challenge!!!!! it was so fun to write these two and i hope you like it! a bit on the shorter side, but delicious all the same. come talk to me about them when you’re done, i want to hear what you think! (also this was named for the song by lennon stella in case u were curious lol)

Currently, he had you pressed against the wall of a house party, his fingers clenched in the hem of your skin-tight crop top, a knee propped between your legs, and his lips attached to your neck. Your hands were threading through his hair, those locks that curled at the ends and you’d always thought about tugging on, and now that you had the chance you weren’t passing it by.

“Fuck, Harry,” you mumbled, your head spinning from the alcohol in your veins and the feeling of Harry this close to you. To be completely honest, you knew what was happening was probably not the best idea. But considering how many cups of jungle juice you’d had and the fact that you were definitely crossed, you frankly couldn’t find a care in the world.

or

Harry and Y/N live together and one night they hook up and things get complicated

pls reblog and share with your friends 💕

Harry living with you wasn’t planned. At least, not in the way where you guys were best friends and decided to live together way. More in the way of neither of you had anyone else to live with and had the same price range kind of way. You happened to be at a mutual friend’s party mid-way through your sophomore spring and you’d mentioned in passing that you were looking for a roommate, and Harry’s head had popped up.

Somewhere along the way, though, you’d decided you quite liked living with him.

Even if he was obnoxious sometimes, was absolutely shit at doing chores, and couldn’t properly load the dishwasher.

He had a charm to him, you had to admit. He was good at getting on your good side—texting you when you were on the library and he was just leaving to head over, asking if you wanted anything to snack on. One time, he’d brought you a pint of Ben & Jerry’s and a bag of Flaming Hot Cheetos without being asked because he knew you hadn’t eaten in hours and needed your favorite foods.

His charms were what made you overlook the nights that he had people over and you had to listen to the sound of his bed frame hitting the wall, or had to creep into the bathroom in the early hours of the morning before he and whoever he’d brought back woke up, pretending to not even live in your apartment for fear of being embarrassed. Although, you never quite knew what you should be embarrassed about—but you were. Maybe it was because you frequently ended up listening to his sounds and trying not to think about how good he sounded or wondering what it was like to be in bed with him.

But that wasn’t something you would tell anyone, not even your friends who pestered you about what it was like living with Harry. Harry, the party-goer who always had three types of hard liquor in your kitchen but was also your go-to person to edit your papers and help you study for exams. Harry, who was your partner in crime on a night out and on a night in, someone who you could be yourself with no matter the context. It was something you’d never expected from him, but now that you had it, you couldn’t image losing it.

Which was why the current situation you were in was not the best.

Currently, he had you pressed against the wall of a house party, his fingers clenched in the hem of your skin-tight crop top, a knee propped between your legs, and his lips attached to your neck. Your hands were threading through his hair, those locks that curled at the ends and you’d always thought about tugging on, and now that you had the chance you weren’t passing it by.

“Fuck, Harry,” you mumbled, your head spinning from the alcohol in your veins and the feeling of Harry this close to you. To be completely honest, you knew what was happening was probably not the best idea. But considering how many cups of jungle juice you’d had and the fact that you were definitely crossed, you frankly couldn’t find a care in the world.

Besides, it wasn’t like you hadn’t literally dreamed of this happening. In fact, you wanted this with every fiber of your being. You just didn’t have your brain stopping you now.

His tongue danced up the column of your neck, dipping into the crevice under your ear and his lips formed a circle on your skin and pulled gently, your fingers tugging on the strands of his hair. Your heart was beating wildly and so was his—you could feel it against your body—or maybe that was the thrum of the bass? You weren’t sure. When he tugged on your earlobe you wrapped your hands in the bottom of his graphic t-shirt, some random streetwear company that he was obsessed with lately and you thought was weird, but didn’t comment on.

One of your legs slid up his, ankle hooking around his knee and pulling his pelvis into yours, and the surprised grunt that left Harry’s mouth made you smile. “Y/N,” he groaned, fingers pressing harder into your skin. “What are you  doing?”

“I’d ask you the same,” you answered, a devilish smile on your lips that Harry kissed away, his teeth tugging on your bottom lip and pulling your jaw down just enough so that he could earn access. It was brutal, kissing him. And not because it was bad, but because it was so good and you’d robbed yourself of this for a year and a half.

Your lips intertwined and fought for dominance, Harry’s sliding between yours and sucking and pulling just enough for you to move closer for more. Your wrists ended up behind his neck, holding him close to you, and you used the pressure to gain an advantage, grinding in his hips and kissing him with a passion burning in your heart.

Harry, meanwhile, was losing his fucking mind. He’d been thinking of this forever, and somehow tonight’s combination of alcohol and weed had led you two here: to a position that neither of your quite knew how it started, but you weren’t stopping it. In fact, Harry caged you in, his hands moving from your body to wall behind you, palms pressed to the worn white paint. He didn’t want to lose you, to lose this moment, to pretend like it never happened. Instead, he wanted to keep you tight against him, to memorize how it felt when the heel of your boots dragged along the inside seam of his denim jeans, the warmth spreading across his neck when you gently scratch at his skin as he suckled on your bottom lip and kissed a line across your jaw. He wanted to remember the sound of your soft breaths in his ears, how they increased in tempo as he sucked a hickey onto your neck, doubling his effort when you didn’t move to stop him. He’d seen you with them before and now that you were his—at least for the night—he wanted to give you one to remember him by.

Not that you could forget him. Not with Some Kind of Drug pounding in the speakers, his hips grinding into yours in the low lighting, his teeth nipping at your skin as you exhaled his name and a curse. He was unforgettable, that Harry Styles. Especially when he had your gripping his skin through his shirt, desperate for something to hold onto as he pushed  you higher and higher into the clouds, your mind a haze of just nothing but him.

Harry pulled away a hair, mainly because he  was getting tired of just having you against a wall with people everywhere—he either wanted to move this into a private space or call this off. Although he didn’t really want the latter, not really. That was only if you didn’t want him. But from the way you stared at him as he created a half foot of distance between you, your chest heaving, lace edge of your bra peeking out from underneath your cropped tank top, he didn’t think that’s what you wanted.

“Do you want to stay or go?” He asked, one of his hands lingering at the wall next to you and the other moving to move a piece of your hair out of your face.

“Go,” you answered, fingers twisting in the fabric of his shirt. “If—if you want to.”

He didn’t even take a breath before he answered, “Yeah, I want to.”

Which was how you two ended up making out in the Uber back to your apartment, you straddling his lap and twisting over him as he kissed you, his hands cupping your ass. Neither of you were sober enough to think about the fact that you were in someone else’s car, but then again, neither of you would probably care. Especially when you sucked on the edge of Harry’s jaw and he tugged your hips down on his and groaned low and rough in your ear, the sound making you smile against his skin.

The radio was playing the background, but in the haze you didn’t hear anything, all you could take in was Harry: his touch, his smell, the soft sounds he made as you moved on him, the feeling of his jeans against your tights-clad skin. It was chilly out and you had a thin pair of stockings on, sheer enough for your skin to show through, but enough to give you a bit of protection from the nip of the cold. His hands had already rucked up the edge of your favorite leather skirt, and your bra was poking out of the top of your cropped tank top that was tight over the swell of your breasts.

You were a sight in Harry’s eyes, something he couldn’t get enough of. Even though he lived with you, saw you  in every outfit, especially the ones involving mismatched sweats and tired eyes, he never thought you were anything other than beautiful. Sometimes a bit rough around the edges, but who wasn’t? But now, with you like this, on top of him, he didn’t know if he’d ever seen you quite this gorgeous. This delicious, even though he hated describing people that way. But how else could he describe you when you stared down at him, lips red from his kisses and eyes blazing for him, chest heaving and cleavage demanding his attention. His hands couldn’t stop curving over your legs, smoothing up and down your thighs. It was sin, he decided, how he felt right now, because he couldn’t stop the spiral of thoughts in his brain.

The things he wanted to do to you.

The things he wanted you to do to him.

The things he wanted to see.

The things he wanted you to see.

The things he wanted to hear.

The things he wanted you to hear.

The things he wanted to feel.

The things he wanted you to feel.

It was like a freight train running through his head, all of the images and thoughts and concepts barreling into his thoughts. It made the swirl of your hips over his and the way you curled your  fingers into the thin fabric covering his shoulders particularly hard to resist.

Realistically, the drive to your shared off-campus apartment wasn’t that long, but in your heads, it seemed like ages. Ages of waiting for a bed and privacy, ages of waiting to shed layers and know what endless bare skin looked like.  So when your driver arrived at your building, you pushed open the door, narrowly missing banging your head on the roof of the car.

Harry chuckled as he tumbled out after you, thanking the driver and wrapping his arm around your waist. You  wasted no time before you curled your arm around him and danced your fingers up his opposite side, your lips sucking delicately on the fabric of his t-shirt closest to you. It made Harry’s eyes flutter shut and his breath jump.

Was this what  you were always like? This was the thing about this  situation—you two knew one another, but not like this. You’d never made out in the back of an Uber or made out on your doorstep while one of you fumbled for the keys like you were now, or felt your hands dig into exposed skin and singe of hot breath on your neck. This was new territory, and perhaps if you  both weren’t quite so drunk you would’ve stopped to talk about it.

But instead, Harry was leading you to his bedroom with your legs around his waist and your fingers in his hair, his lips crawling up your throat, walking blindly because he knew the way.

The thing about hooking up with someone you’d been close friends with for over a year was that there wasn’t a layer of awkwardness because you didn’t know the person. Instead, it was a hint of unassuredness whenever clothes started coming off, a hint of awe, but nothing uncomfortable. You’d never felt quite this comfortable with someone, in fact. You’d never trusted someone you hooked up with quite as much as you trusted Harry. And he felt the same way. When you pushed his shirt up his torso and scratched your nails softly down his skin he had never felt so alive, so full of desire.

It was why he fell back on his bed and let you stand between his knees in a desperate attempt to get your clothes off so he could feel your bare skin. He’d been waiting all night to see you—to finally see you—and now that he had you, he didn’t want to let you go.

“They’re tights,” you mumbled against his lips when he tried to pull on the material on your legs, a chuckle leaving your mouth.

“I know,” he replied, smirking. “Not an idiot.”

“Never said you were.” You stepped away, deciding you could do this part by yourself with more ease, and unzipped your leather skirt, the zip down the front meaning it was easy access, and let the material fall to the ground. Harry’s eyes swept up your legs and to the place where the band of your tights dug into your waist, gaze flaming black with desire. Then, you hooked your fingers in the tight band and tugged it down, peeling the thin material off of your skin, hopping on one foot to get them off your feet.

Harry resisted the urge to laugh, and instead reached out to hold you steady, a smile winding onto your face from the action. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you answered, standing up straight in just your purple underwear and your shirt and bra. His hands held fast to your hips, palms curving around your skin and gaze dancing up your body. And when you pulled your tight shirt up and over your heads, leaving you in nothing but your bra and panties, his heart about stopped.

You had on a set that didn’t match, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t stop looking at your breasts—it was cliche, that he loved boobs, but how could he not? Especially when you were breathing this fast and looking at him like that and you were wearing a red bra that barely held you in. How as he supposed to not lose his goddamned mind?

“What?” You asked, stepping back in between his legs, hands falling to his shoulders, sliding up the slope to cup his neck.

“You—you just,” he choked out, the words rough and dry in his mouth. “You’re so gorgeous.”

You didn’t know what to say, so you just moved. You kissed him, lips caught between his, and pulled at his shirt, tugging it up until he shifted back to tug it off his body and let it fall to the ground. You stopped thinking, stopped using any sense in your body, and instead just felt. Felt how he made your skin sing and your body thrum with pleasure, how he made the worries at the back of your head fall away with each pass of his hands, focused on the way he kissed across your clavicle and sighed when you harshly gripped his hair. You let yourself drown in those feelings because you knew if you used your head that somehow you would succumb to your fears and lose this moment, and that was the utter last thing you wanted.

Instead, you wanted to drown in him.

And he felt the same way. He fell back onto the duvet and took you with him, flipping you onto your back so that your hair was pressed against the pillowcase, a cheap one from Target he’d brought at the beginning of the year that you’d convinced him was a good color. You looked up at him with awe and temptation in your irises, and Harry took only a minute to rip off his jeans and his t-shirt, leaving his boxers on only because he didn’t want to seem like an asshole. Then, he was back hovering over you, his curls falling into his face, your fingers reaching up to push them back.

A smile drifted across your face and he dropped to his elbows, peppering kisses down your neck and falling back to his knees as he made his way down your body. When he heard a chuckle rip from your throat, he glanced up at you. “Distracted?”

“No,” you said, poking his temple. “Thinking about how when we first met I teased you about how you must fuck girls with your snapback on because you wore it so much.”

Harry hummed a laugh into your chest, dimples peeking out and you thought it was downright adorable. “I was a bit of a whore when we met, huh?”

“Maybe a bit,” you answered, a teasing lilt to your words that Harry knew well. “Don’t worry, you’re only just a bit less of one now. Didn’t lose that title, I don’t think.”

“That’s a bit rude,” he said, sucking harshly at your nipple through your bra. “Bullying me while I’m tryin’ to go down on you.”

“Is that what you’re doing? Couldn’t tell since you hadn’t quite made it there yet.”

You were taunting him like you always did, the alcohol in your veins making it more sexual in nature, and Harry loved it. It made it feel like the two of you, not like something that would be completely forgotten in the morning. “Am I too slow for you?” He asked, scratching gently at your sides and making you squirm as he fell farther down the length of your body. “I was trying to take my time but if you’re impatient, then—“

“Harry, please, fuck, just—“ A gasp fell from parted lips when he finally licked at the hood of your clit, your hands gripping his hair within another breath. Your words were nothing but pants, dry and heaving sounds that filled Harry’s head. He’d heard you through the walls before—it was a college-priced apartment, after all. Thick walls weren’t exactly something that fit in your price range. But hearing you this close, this sharp, the sound this crisp in his ears, it was making his hips rut into the duvet. It was his wet dream actualized, as horrible as that sounded.

Yes, he had wet dreams about you.

Yes, he knew that was probably horrible.

And no, he couldn’t bring himself to feel bad about it.

Your mind, on the other hand, was blank. Like, literally blank. That was the thing about sex when you were drunk, all the thinking and nerves and walls dropped away and you just let your body feel. There wasn’t that niggling thought at the back of your head that questioned if you looked good like this, you just let go and let your back arch and hips circle and arms quiver. Your hands drifted from the duvet to his hair and then the pillow behind your head, trying to figure out what would hold your grip best as Harry absolutely devoured you.

So far, you hadn’t settled on your favorite thing to hold on to, but his hair was in the running for first place. The sight of his eyes peeking up at yours, an image you only got every once in a while because you could barely keep your eyes open to look at him, was enough to send you spiraling. But you were trying to hold yourself together because you didn’t want this to end. You’d just gotten him like this and you didn’t want the night to be over because who knew what the morning held?

Thankfully, though, your drunk mind didn’t let those disruptive thoughts linger. Instead, they focused on the orgasm rising as he curled his tongue over your panties and then under them, the heat of his breath on your sensitive skin making you moan deeply, his ring-clad fingers pressing into your hips. Harry loved watching you almost as much as he loved tasting you, doing this to you. There was a power in oral sex, Harry couldn’t deny that, and he loved it not because of the power it gave him, but the gratification of making someone else feel good. He loved watching women finish, and you were no different. In fact, you were blowing every woman before you out of the water.

Maybe that was the alcohol talking. He couldn’t tell. But either way, when he sucked on your clit and you squeaked out his name, he didn’t know how he could do this with another person for at least a month or two. Getting you out of his head would be his full-time job for a while, especially while living with you.

Your fingers threaded through his brown curls, eyes fluttering open, mind swirling and trying to focus somehow on the sight below you and the feeling swirling through your body, a tightness spreading up your legs, your toes curling and feet pressing down towards the duvet, scrabbling for something to hold onto. They ended up hooking around Harry’s shoulders, his hands holding your thighs close, as if not worried in the slightest about them getting too tight. Instead, he held you close and your breath came out in short pants, airways drying from not being able to even close your mouth and breathe.

His tongue was just so wet. There wasn’t really a better way to describe it. Oral while you were like this always felt this way—just overwhelming in the most basic sense. It was wet and warm and overwhelming and you never wanted it to end. You didn’t even know how long he was down there, his head tucked between your thighs, alternating between sucking on your clit and licking up and down your slit, poking his tongue into your hole for a second—just long enough to make you groan, deep and unabashed.

“I’m close,” you murmured, words broken and Harry could only understand them because he had heard you talk in the morning after you’d just gotten up and your mind wasn’t quite working yet. He parsed your words together with ease, and the result made him grin, and suck harshly on your clit, before dropping his chin and licking into you with fervor. “Fuck, Harry.”

“That’s it,” he mumbled, words garbled because he didn’t even raise his head to speak, he kept his lips right on your skin which meant the vibrations of his words flowed through your veins.

His fingertips pressed harshly on the outside of your thighs, holding you close, and somehow the combination of the pressure and the heat of his tongue had you tumbling over the edge, your chest rising and falling quickly as you struggled to catch a breath, your orgasm overtaking you. Harry watched as your fingers clenched the duvet, legs tightening and then loosening around his shoulders, before dropping to the bed with a satisfied sigh from your lips.

He could watch you for days.

“Come here,” you said, glancing down at him with a fucked out look on your face, eyes glassy and lips red from chewing on them, your hair a mess from thrashing your head back and forth. He’d never seen you quite like this and he liked the sight.

Liked it a lot, in fact. He moved up your body with ease, the soft skin of his legs rubbing against yours. Once he was at your eye level, you sealed the distance with a kiss that made Harry’s mind fumble for stable ground, desperate for you. When you ran your toes up his calf, though, the soft touch making him moan, he knew he was fucked. “You—need you,” he said, breathless against your lips.

You pushed his underwear down without question, sliding your fingers under the band so you could feel his warm skin under your palms. When he bucked up into you as your nails brushed against his butt cheeks, you smiled against his lips, loving how obvious he was. He didn’t hide anything, pretend like he wasn’t affected. You liked that in a guy. “Condom?” You said, tweaking his skin between your thumb and forefinger.

Harry lifted his head, blinking once. “Yeah—yeah, in the drawer. One sec.” He shifted, rolling off of you so he could do two things. The first was find a condom in the drawer, the second was push down his briefs. Well, technically three things, because after that he rolled the condom on with focus, lip caught between his teeth as you watched, head turned to take in the sight of his side profile.

He was gorgeous. You’d known that for a long while, but seeing him like this, under the glow of the bedside table light and the sweaty curls sticking to his forehead, his chest rising rapidly. You were even attracted to his smattering of chest hair, and especially liked the way his skin purged at his sides. In fact, you reached out and grabbed it gently, drawing his attention back to you.

With one look back at you, he rolled back over you, your legs parting with ease. You wound your fingers through his hair and appreciated that he didn’t ask you questions, that he didn’t try to talk about it because you didn’t want to. You wanted this, it was obvious in how you gazed at him with desire and kneaded at his skin, tugging his pelvis closer and closer. The talk, you thought, would’ve ruined it, made you question it. And you didn’t want to question, you just wanted him.

So when he pushed one of your knees up to your waist and brushed his condom-covered tip over your slit, the skin nudging the hood of your clit, your hips moved without thought. Circled up for him, trying to get the angle for him to slip inside properly. Because you were craving it, feeling him. Needed him in a way you never had before and you didn’t want to linger on it, just wanted it to happen finally.

Harry’s eyes caught on yours, and as if scared of what he found, he looked back down at where your bodies met, before pushing inside. A moan ripped from your throat, fingernails digging into his biceps which you were gripping as he slid in slowly.

“Shit,” you cursed as you felt yourself adjusting to him, “Shit, fuck, shit, Harry.”

“Sorry,” he said, a trace of what you could’ve sworn was a blush creeping across his cheeks. “Good?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, squeezing at his arms. “Go.”

And he did.

Holy fuck did he go.

Harry held nothing back when he fucked you. He found a  rhythm almost immediately, one that had your torso moving up the duvet and your head raising from the pillow and slamming back down again, eyes fluttering shut and then open again when he hit a deep spot. It was hard to describe how good it felt to have him inside of you, but god, it felt divine. Something you’d been missing. And not that it was him you’d been missing, but sex in general, you’d missed it. Missed this feeling of just losing yourself in it, in the movement of bodies and the sounds and the sweat and that feeling of closeness when Harry’s head dropped down to your neck and he thrusted deep inside of you,  an echo of your name on his lips.

Your ankles hooked above his bum, and the impact of his hips on your inner thighs you knew would leave a bruise in the morning and you relished the prospect of it. Of remembering this feeling, of reliving it every time you squatted down. Although the thought of being empty of him was something you were not looking forward to, you were excited about the aftermath on your body.

And Harry was losing his fucking mind as he moved inside of you. Not only because you were squeezing him tight and thought he was going to come within seconds, but because of the way you were wrapped around his body, your hands holding onto his biceps so tightly he was sure there’d be marks tomorrow. It was how your legs sat above his hips, the backs of your heels digging into his ass to make sure he drove into you with a depth and a speed that you needed. Your head tipped back and your mouth was open slightly, tufts of air and moans of pleasure floating from them and through the air, sending sparks down his spine.

When he dropped his head to your neck it was because he missed smelling you, being that close to you. So he lost himself on the column of your neck, leaving mark after mark as he drove into you, as you swallowed him whole—body and mind. This sex was consuming in a way he wasn’t used to and he didn’t think it was the alcohol and the marijuana. He didn’t know why.

Well, he did, but he pretended not to.

Especially when you pulled on his hair and murmured, “Faster, please, H—fuck, please,” in his ear.

Yes, he decided as he sped up and reached a  depth that made both of you choke on air, it was a far better idea to pretend that what he was feeling right now was completely normal.

Usually you liked to be on top, to set the pace and keep control when you hooked up with guys, but right now, Harry was doing so good on his own that the last thing you wanted was to stop him. So you let him set the pace and instead kept yourself busy by touching every inch of his body available. You fingers ran down the length of his arms, across the black tattoos swirling across his skin, and towards his chest, making a line down to his belly. When you scratched softly over his skin he grunted—and not a weird sound, but one that you could tell meant he liked it.

So you pressed a little harder, experimenting a bit.

To your smug joy, Harry’s fingers curled in the duvet next to your stomach, arms tensing, and his eye snapped to yours. He didn’t even have to say anything—you knew. He wanted you to keep going.

And you did. You brushed your hand to the top of his torso and dragged a torturing path downwards, nails biting into his skin. Not enough to draw blood, but enough to leave an angry red trail. Harry was panting above you, eyes fluttering closed as he thrusted into you.

He was close. Your nails mixed with how you squeezed him tight inside of you and the sounds you were making and the slam of the bed against the wall and your perfume lingering in the air—it all mixed together into a dangerous concoction that had him struggling on the edge. “Are you close?” He asked, words rougher than they had been when he last spoke.

When your chin tipped down ever so slightly, Harry smiled devilishly, the prospect of bringing you over the edge again spurring him on, a second surge of energy coursing through his veins. Any exhaustion he had been feeling before from lingering in the same position, any ache in his knees or tightness in his arms was gone, in favor of pressing your knees farther up towards your chest, earning a new angle that had your hands scrambling up his arms and nails digging into his shoulders.

He hissed at the touch and you panted the word Yes over and over again, eyes screwed shut as the orgasm built inside of you like a tidal wave, threatening to break as he twisted his hips a particular way. You were going to come, you realized only seconds before it happened, the depth Harry was reaching and the brutal pace against your hips creating a deadly combination.

As you did, a shudder of his name falling through the room, you squeezed Harry like a death grip and he choked out a moan before coming mere seconds after, unable to hold himself back any longer.

“Shit,” he said, leaning against your shins as he caught his breath. Your legs were still propped up against your chest, his hands caging in your body as he leaned his weight onto you.

Your eyes opened, the soft bedroom light seeming brighter after what had just happened. “Shit,” you answered simply, not knowing what else to say.

What did you say to your roommate after you fucked them, anyway? The alcohol still lingered, both of you plenty tipsy still. It was enough for your legs to drop open and happily let Harry kiss you senseless as he withdrew from inside of you, your hand cupping his jaw. His lips were fucking sin and you hoped you would be able to forget them. Because as he pulled away and mumbled about throwing away the condom, leaving you breathless on his duvet, you didn’t know if you’d be able to.

Harry woke up to an empty bed and a throbbing headache. He was still naked, but that wasn’t unusual considering he favored sleeping naked, and his duvet cover was around his waist. The side of the bed you had been asleep in when he’d shut his eyes was bare, the duvet cover askew from seemed to be you leaving.

He rolled over and picked up his phone, cursing at the low battery from not charging it last night. Then, he sat up in bed, letting the sheets pool at his waist and rubbed his eyes, trying to wake them up. His eyes were dry, probably from the weed, and his throat was dry, probably from the alcohol and the sex.

The sex.

His mind flipped through it in a series of images, like a slideshow on double time, the sight of you naked below him filling his brain. The thing about drunk sex was that you could remember the overall experience, the general highlights, certain specific moments, but it wasn’t like you could pick through it and remember each detail. But Harry didn’t even need the details to know it was fucking incredible.

Fucking you was literally a dream come true.

What wasn’t was the other half of the bed being empty, especially considering it was only eight AM.

He listened to the apartment, trying to decipher if he could hear you moving around. Usually he could hear your footfalls, considering how small and cheap the place was. But it was silent, meaning either you were still asleep or you weren’t home. Most likely it was the former, since it was still early and you usually slept late after a night out.

Although he didn’t know how you were the night after sex. And when had you gotten up from his bed?

More importantly, why had you gotten up from his bed?

Logically, he knew it was probably to avoid a weird interaction, but it was more weird for him to wake up alone and not know why. To not know how you wanted to handle this. Because his sober mind was increasingly realizing that although last night’s events were sensational, they were on the whole an utterly horrible idea.

The two of you lived together, for Pete’s sake. You were practically best friends. You still had half a year worth of a lease.

He groaned, his chin dropping to his chest as he took a deep breath. He could do this, he told himself as he kicked back the covers and slid his legs out of the bed. He could handle this.

So he put his phone on its charger, slipped on a pair of joggers, and went to find you.

What Harry didn’t know was that in the next room, you were wide awake. You had tried to fall back asleep after you’d crept out of his bed at six AM, and you had for a while. But then you woke up and the reality of last night came crashing back through your brain and you groaned, reminding yourself how fucking stupid you were.

Sure, Harry was hot.

That didn’t mean you had to fuck him, you idiot, you told yourself. He was your roommate, your friend. Not someone to sleep with. And yet, here you were, your thighs sore from his hips crashing against them and your body smelling like sex and his cologne.

You heard his door open—it was a small apartment after all—and your heart stopped for a second. You waited for the sound of his footsteps, praying he would just walk to the kitchen and not stop at your room. Listening closely, you heard him pause outside your room and then continue into the kitchen, where you heard the refrigerator open and close and then the kettle humming as he started a cup of tea. A part of you sighed, but the other part of you remembered that you had to see him eventually.

Why were you hiding, anyway?

It wasn’t like you could avoid him, and what did you have to avoid him about? Sure, you’d seen his naked body, sure he’d seen yours, sure you’d had mind blowing sex. That didn’t mean anything.

Right?

“Shit,” you groaned softly into your pillow and decided you would stay in your room until the last possible second. You never said you weren’t a coward.

Unfortunately, an hour later the desire to pee was overwhelming you and you couldn’t wait any longer. So you huffed out a sigh, threw on a pair of pajamas and pushed open your door, taking a tentative step into the hallway, trying to gauge where in the house Harry was. You’d lost track of him during a scroll through Instagram and couldn’t quite place him anymore and it was making you nervous.

Then, you heard the floorboards creak.

Your head whirled to the side, your eyes meeting his. He was standing not two feet away, looking at you with messy hair and wide eyes, a cup of tea clutched in one hand. “Hi,” you managed to say. “Bathroom.”

All he did was nod. He nodded as if this entire situation was somehow normal and completely not fucking with both of your brains.

So you strolled down the hall to the bathroom and shut yourself inside. If he wanted to pretend like this was normal, you could do that, you decided. You’d give him normal.

For the next two weeks, that was exactly what you did. You were the picture of normalcy—you pretended like nothing had happened, just made jokes in the kitchen and joined him for study hours and brought home takeaway for the two of you on Thursday night as usual. However, you couldn’t ignore how things had changed between the two of you. There was this…air between you. Charged with sexual tension that you couldn’t ignore, mixed with a hint of awkwardness and uncertainty that had you both on edge. Gone were the playful squeezes to your sides and you swatting him upside the head when he was annoying. Gone was any unexpected touch, in fact. It was like the Cold War in your apartment, a détente on both sides.

It was excruciating. So much so that you’d found yourself wondering if you needed to move out, which was a stupid idea considering it was mid-way through the year and you adored your apartment. It would also probably be more awkward to break the lease agreement than keep it, you decided.

So instead, you stayed, and you pushed through the uncomfortable moments and spent more time in your room than ever before, the living room a space you avoided unless you had to be there. Harry did the same, a look of almost panic on his face whenever you walked into the kitchen in the morning for breakfast. Was the idea of being in close quarters with you really that horrible sounding?

Apparently, it was.

Two weeks after the night of your greatest mistake, the two of you ended up meeting up with your friends. In fact, the exact same set of friends who you’d been with at the house party two weeks prior. You’d ended up walking over to Mariah’s apartment together, a case of Whiteclaws tucked under Harry’s arm. You were rambling about your art history course and he was nodding along, offering the occasional thought. It felt decently normal, and you were hoping it would last through the night.

At first, it did. But then, more and more people started showing up—some people in the debate club with Mariah, a few from the club soccer team with James, the entirety of Lilah’s a cappella group, and then some people you and Harry had each invited. The result was a packed apartment, the music blaring from a portable speaker, and alcohol bottles and plastic cups littering every surface. There was the faint smell of marijuana from when some people went to smoke in Mariah’s room, and it felt comfortable.

You were talking in a group of yourself, two of your friends from a summer internship you’d had, Harry, and Wei, a guy Harry knew from freshman year who had stayed close with. It took everything in your body not to let your gaze linger on Harry, the cut of his dark green t-shirt close to his body and his black skinny jeans gripping his thighs. His hair was a mess, as it always was when he’d had a couple drinks because he ran his hands through it nonstop. His green eyes were sparkling as he listened to a story Wei was telling, his full body laugh sounding in your ears. It was torture being this close to him and there being a wall between the two of you.

“Hey,” your friend Deliah said, her soft voice pulling your attention back to her. “You and Harry okay?”

She hadn’t been there two weeks ago and you hadn’t told her about what had happened. “Yeah, we’re fine,” you told her with a slight nod.

She studied you for a beat longer, but then seemed to accept the response. “I’m going to go get another, you want anything?”

“No, go ahead,” you answered, raising your still half-full glass.

Ronnie, who stood next to you, said she’d go along and then Wei pulled away and followed them, saying he needed another beer and wanted to find one of his friends and say hello, and suddenly, it was just you and Harry. You and Harry and both of you were fairly drunk and you couldn’t stop looking at his lips. The memory of how they felt against yours pushing its way into your brain and suddenly overtaking your every thought.

What was worse was how he was looking at you. He was watching you, something you knew because you knew him, knew what every one of his glances meant. This one was backed by thoughts, it was the result of him thinking about you and watching your face for something. What, you didn’t know. But you couldn’t take the way his eyes were trained on your expression, the feeling of his gaze on your skin. The distance between you felt like it was shrinking and you felt like you could smell his cologne even though in reality you couldn’t, and you wondered if your heart was pounding in your chest because of the alcohol in your bloodstream or him.

You couldn’t stand there next to him, you decided. You simply couldn’t.

“I’m going to get some air,” you said, pushing yourself off the wall. “Back in a second.”

He may have said something, but you were gone before you could hear it, threading through the crowd towards the patio door. It was a tiny patio, just enough space for a set of chairs and a narrow table, but it was enough. It was empty and the music was quieter as you shut the sliding door.

You could breathe out here, and you did, resting your cup on the railing and looking out at the street. Mariah’s apartment was nestled closer to campus, a bit more of an expensive place thanks to her parents and a high-paying summer internship. Distantly you heard the chatter of people walking on the street towards frat row, the honk of what were probably Ubers picking people up and dropping them off at parties.

Slowly, you inhaled, trying to calm the fast beat of your heart. Your thoughts drifted back to Harry, though, and how you had just looked at one another, had studied each other, both knowing that you couldn’t continue you like this. Something had to give and you didn’t know what it was. You didn’t know what to do. Mariah had tried to talk to you about it, but you’d pretended like it was fine because you didn’t want her meddling. You knew she would try to talk to Harry and then it would become some big thing for all of your friends to know about, and you didn’t want that. You just wanted it to be solved and done and over with. You didn’t want all of these feelings in your chest or these thoughts in your head, you didn’t want to think about this anymore.

You didn’t want to think about him. You didn’t want to think about how good he’d felt, about how you wished it could happen again, about how you’d had fucking dreams about him, about how every time you heard his voice it sent shivers through your body because it reminded you of the way he’d said your name, rough and deep and rumbling in his chest.

And then you heard it: your name, in that rough and deep voice. “Y/N.”

“I want to be alone for a bit,” you said, not even turning to face him.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, obviously ignoring your words and instead shutting the sliding door behind him.

It was quiet now, and because the balcony was narrow he ended up standing right next to you, his elbow mere inches from yours as he leaned on the railing. “Nothing,” you said with a sigh, the lie bitter on your tongue. “Nothing’s wrong, Harry.”

At first, he didn’t say anything, just let your words float in the slight breeze. But then, you heard the crinkle of his thumb pressing into his cup and you knew he was fidgeting, thinking about something, and you knew he was going to break that silence. “Did I mess everything up?” He asked, so soft you barely heard it over the music from inside.

That make you turn your head, eyes meeting his finally. “It’s not your fault. I was there too, we both are responsible.”

“Then, did we mess everything up?”

You sighed, searching for the words. “I don’t think we messed everything up,” you told him finally. “But I don’t know if it can be like it was before.”

“Do you want it to be like it was before?”

His words made your heart jolt. “When we were friends?”

“Aren’t we still friends?” His words were so soft, so full of emotion, you wondered if this was the kind of conversation to be having right now.

“Yes,” you answered. “But…”

“Nothing more,” he finished. You nodded, and both of you were silent for a beat, letting the truth settle between you two. It was the first time you’d even acknowledged that anything had happened. “I don’t want…”

You turned to look at him and saw his tight his jaw was set, how his eyes were trained on the street in front of the building. How he could barely look at you. “H?”

When he turned to meet your gaze, his eyes were glassy, and you realized he was nearly crying. “I don’t want to go back to how it was before,” he said, words broken in his throat. “I want…I want more.”

That made your mind grind to a halt. “You—what?”

“Please don’t make me say it again,” he whispered.

You realized he didn’t know. He didn’t know how much you felt for him, how much the night you’d spent together had absolutely destroyed any semblance of an ability to pretend like you weren’t into him, that you hadn’t had a crush on him for ages. He had no fucking clue. “Harry,” you said, reaching out and brushing your fingers along his forearm, “I want the same thing.”

His eyes widened, gaze falling to where your fingers touched his skin and back up to your eyes. “You do?” You nodded, a smile spreading across your face that he quickly mirrored. “Have we been absolute idiots?” He asked, turning on his heal so you were facing one another fully. Then, he reached up and ran his forefinger across your jawline, a shudder running through your body at the feeling of his fingers on your skin.

“I think we might have been,” you answered, ducking your head ever so slightly so that his finger ran up to your mouth, brushing across your bottom lip.

He cleared his throat when you dropped your jaw ever so slightly, just enough for his finger to press in-between your lips, a ghost of a touch. “Can’t even think when you’re looking at me like that,” he mumbled, words that same roughness you remembered from your night together.

“Right back at you,” you told him.

He stepped closer to you, closing the distance. “We’re such idiots,” he murmured, hand moving to cup your jaw, his fingers brushing under your ear.

“Such idiots,” you agreed.

And slowly, he closed the space between you two, his lips brushing yours hesitantly. But the second you felt his mouth slot between yours, you moved closer, pressing your body against his and your arms winding around his waist to hold him close. His other hand brushed down your side and the grip made your skin sing, finally being close to him was everything you needed. It healed the ache in your heart that had lingered ever since that morning, that morning when everything had gone so wrong.

His lips parted and he pulled away ever so slightly, just enough so your foreheads stayed touching.

“Why’d you leave?” He asked, his breath on your lips.

“I got scared you would regret it in the morning,” you replied. “I didn’t want to be there when you did.”

He chuckled softly, a slight shake of his head. “I didn’t regret it,” he told you. “I thought you did.”

“I’m so stupid,” you said, one of your hands moving from his back to encircle his wrist that held your face. “I’m sorry for leaving.”

“It’s okay.” He pressed his lips to your nose so sweetly your knees just about gave out. “Got you in the end, right?”

You hummed an affirmation and leaned up so that your lips could reconnect, kissing him with a passion you’d been seeking for two weeks. And when he kissed you back, the tips of his hair brushing your skin and his fingers pressing against your skin, you sighed, finally feeling settled once again. You’d missed this—him, being this close to him. Somehow, that one night had made you permanently miss him.

He’d truly done a number on you.

“Wanna go home?” You asked between kisses, loving the soft moan that feel from his throat at the thought.

“As long as I wake up to you still next to me,” he replied.

“Promise,” you said, kissing him once more. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The two of you ended up keeping the apartment for the rest of the year, your stuff slowly ending up in his room because the mattress was more comfortable, and eventually your old room became a shared study room. It was where your desks ended up and you’d study there together in the evenings or marathon study sessions on the weekends, music playing from a speaker between you two. Most of the time, you ended up making out, though, and occasionally having sex on one of your desks or on the floor because frankly you couldn’t keep your hands off each other. The sexual tension that had been there that first night had lingered, and it made it so you two truly couldn’t stop touching each other.

It drove your friends crazy, all of them yelling at you whenever you started making out at parties, reminding you that you were in public and you could hold off until you were home, thank you very much. And Harry just would kiss your temple and whisper in your ear about what he wanted to do to you later, and you’d pinch his bum to remind him that he wasn’t the only one with tricks up his sleeves.

Harry had never fallen in love with someone so fast, but with you it was easy. You had been one of his favorite people before you’d started dating, but now it was like you were truly the most incredible people in the world. He’d wake up with you snuggled into his chest, hair tickling his nose, and he’d get a kiss before you left bed since your class schedules started at the same time most days. You’d make his tea just like he liked it and rubbed his back when he got sick after a big night out, and when you laughed at one of his corny jokes your entire face would light up, a beaming smile that made his whole body ache. You were so gorgeous is physically hurt sometimes because he couldn’t stop staring at you, absorbing just how fucking perfect you were.

It was funny, because dating you wasn’t all that different from being your friend. He still got all the shared dinners and movie nights and hilarious stories the morning after a night out, but now he got to hear them while cuddling you on the couch, your head tucked against his neck. And when you teased him about how much of a boy he was (his snapback was your favorite target) you’d kiss him to make him stop pouting. But he was happy. He was so fucking happy with you.

He was thinking about all of that while you sat on the couch together, his head lying in your lap as you read a book for class, your fingers running through his hair absentmindedly. He was watching you, something he did often and you’d grown used to, and suddenly the overwhelming desire to finally tell you how he felt hit him like a truck.

And unlike previous attempts, he couldn’t stop himself.

“I love you,” he said, the words so simple and sure that they made you stop reading and look down at him.

“What?”

“I love you,” he repeated, drawing out the last word and tucking his face into your stomach, peppering kisses over your shirt. For some reason, he wasn’t nervous, knowing you’d say it or not and either way it was okay—he wasn’t expecting you to necessarily be ready. He just couldn’t hide it anymore.

He knew your mind was turning but he just kept kissing you, knowing the action would calm your anxious thoughts. “I love you too,” you finally said after a beat, and he looked up at you.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, you idiot,” you answered, setting your book down on the couch and smiling at him. “Wasn’t expecting to tell you quite like this, though.”

“How were you planning to tell me?”

You shrugged, rubbing a circle on his forehead. “Dunno. Something more monumental, I guess? I know you like all those romance movies, so I thought maybe something like in one of those.”

He adored the fact that you wanted to make it special, that you’d thought about it, but he just shook his head at you. “I don’t need it to be monumental,” he told you, brushing his fingers along your chin. “This is perfect. You’re perfect.”

“Shut up.”

“Never,” he said, sitting up and grabbing your hips, swinging you onto his lap with your laughter raining down on him. “Never going to stop telling you how perfect you are.”

He hooked his fingers on your neck and pulled you in for a kiss, one of those ones that made your thoughts all mushy and his heart pound in his chest because sometimes the way he felt about you just made his whole body go silent except for his heart. Or, at least it felt that way.

“Love you,” he mumbled against your lips, eyes catching yours.

“Love you more,” you replied, kissing his nose softly.

“Are we going to be one of those couples that is constantly competing over who loves the other person more?” He asked, nestling his head in the space between your shoulder and neck, settling there as your fingers swept through his hair. You wrapped around him like this was his favorite place to be.

“Probably,” you answered simply, a tender kiss to the side of his head. “Now, does this mean you’ll make dinner tonight? I’ve got a paper to edit.”

He laughed into your shoulder, picking his head up to look at you. “You make it sound like I don’t make dinner practically every night.”

You shrugged, a playful smile on your face. “You’re just better at it.”

“False, but I’ll take the compliment.”

“God, your ego has got to be massive now,” you mumbled, and he laughed, smile stretching across his face and dimples poking out.

“Alright, go start on your essay and I’ll cook something for us. Sound good?”

You beamed at him. “Perfect.” You bounced off his lap, grabbing your book and heading for your old room. “Love you!”

The words were called over your shoulder and Harry smiled at how perfect they sounded on your lips, how easy it was to answer back simply, “Love you more,” at your receding figure, the thought gracing his mind at how he’d like to be saying those words to you for a very, very long time.

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[heloisedaphnebrightmore]

Play with me [Billy Russo x Reader] - Requested [15+]

Title: Play with me Pairing: Billy Russo x Female!Reader Word count: 3.3k Published: 13 June 2021 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Notes: There's no smut in it, but it is quite suggestive so I think it deserves the 15+ rating. Warnings: Suggestive phrases, mention of alcohol and drinking Summary: Once again you find yourself dragged to a fancy event as part of your work by none other than Billy himself. Your boss seems to be enjoying your discomfort, finding entertainment in your grimaces and sulking comebacks. That is until you decide to turn his little game against him. Request: [x] Prompts requested by @sunrisefairy for my celebration event.

Billy Russo x Reader Fluff #19 - “It’s not a double date. We’re just third and fourth wheeling.” Spicy #20 - “Are you flirting with me?” Spicy #39 - “I’m a little drunk and a little horny.”

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You've never been big on attending all those fancy events your company has been hired to work at, but Billy always said it was a good way to build connections. Not once have you found yourself in a pretty little ballgown, following your boss around with a stone-cold expression, silently trying to suffocate him with your murderous gaze. You were hired to be a security agent not a peacock, but Billy didn't seem to mind the invisible daggers your eyes shot at him, if anything, by the smug grin across his face, he appeared to be enjoying the situation.

Just like many times before, this event was organised by one of his clients as well and he had been invited, along with a plus one to your utter disappointment. Though it sounded like you were supposed to be guests, in the end the man made it clear that he wanted Billy to have his back and his people to be blended in the crowd. Therefore, most of the night, you and Billy have been following around the old man, some no name politician you couldn't even recognise with his wife on his arm, smiling like a wild beast.

"You know, if you think about it, this could be our first date," Billy smirked as his eyes scanned the room. "It's like a grand double date," he smirked, earning an annoyed huff from you.

"It's not a double date, I wouldn't even go out with you if you were the last person on this planet," you groaned. "We are just— third and fourth wheeling for the sole purpose of their security," you nodded towards the couple in front of you.

"If denial makes your sensitive little heart feel better about your attraction towards me, who am I to object," he chuckled. "Though I have to admit, that silk dress on you makes it very hard for me to focus," he scanned your body, his gaze studying every single inch as though he could see through the thin material. His eyes dwelled longer on the high cut design that ran up to the top of your thigh, exposing your bare legs. His intent gaze burned your skin, your ears feeling as though they were on fire before realisation hit you.

"Hold on a minute, are you flirting with me?" You asked incredulously.

"As smart as you are, I'm surprised it took you this long to realise," he replied with his smug grin growing wider.

"Wipe it off," you scoffed at him as he grabbed your arm, rougher than you expected and linked it with his, patting the back of your hand. You walked around the ballroom with him on your side as he shook hands with all kinds of men, each seemingly interested in every breath Billy took, almost as though he was more important than the old man in front of you.

"Why? If it wasn't for your distaste in all these events, you'd be drooling over me by now," he chuckled playfully, offering you a subtle wink, before he turned back to the sea of people with his head held high, his body straightening in an authoritative manner.

"You are delusional," you hissed, teeth gritting in frustration.

"Right, I guess you just love staring at me then. Though I'm not surprised, I'm certainly good to look at," he huffed.

"No and No," you scoffed with a grimace. "And remove that shit-eating grin from your face already," you retorted as Billy clicked his tongue.

"Pretty lips, but such a dirty mouth," he let out a low, throaty laugh as he leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear, his warm breath sending a shiver through your body. "You know, I have a couple of ideas what you could use that mouth for," he replied in a suggestive tone, arching a single brow as he pulled back.

"Oh, do you now?" You offered him a playful smile as your eyes looked him up and down before your gaze met his again. "Unfortunately for you, I'm not interested," you shook your head, trying to act as though his offer didn't affect you, as though his body so close to you didn't force your heart into a dangerous pace. Though mostly you found it easy to ignore his teasing, you had to admit a part of you was indeed inclined to know more about where his mind was wandering off to.

"Ouch," he placed a hand in front of his chest, acting as if he was indeed in pain before he rearranged himself. "Your loss, I guess," he shrugged nonchalantly, earning an annoyed eye roll from you.

As the night went on, you tried to ignore the music in the background and focus on your work. Your eyes scanned the gigantic room as you shimmied through the sea of people dancing in pairs whilst Billy followed right behind you, clearing his throat. Looking back over your shoulder, you realised his eyes weren't on the people surrounding you or establishing eye contact with the rest of the team. His gaze fell lower, lower than you expected.

"Do you like the view?" You asked, arching a brow as he finally stopped staring at your backside and lifted his gaze, running his tongue across his bottom lip.

"What can I say that dress seems to enhance your beauty in all the right places," he smirked, earning a scoff from you. "Hey, can't I compliment you?" He raised his hands innocently, but you didn't fall for it, his proud grin spread wider as he ran his eyes all over you again.

"Pig," you spat as you finally reached the end of the crowd and stole a glass of champagne from a tray one of the servers walked around with.

"You are not supposed to be drinking," he gave you a cold look.

"I can't handle you sober," you chugged the content of the glass in a swift movement, earning a loud huff from him.

"That's not very professional," he replied as he stepped closer and placed a hand on your waist, tugging you closer in his side.

"Well, screw professionalism," you huffed as you felt the alcohol hit you. It was already warm inside, but with the alcohol, you felt your cheeks flush. Your eyes wandered to your side, where his big palm cupped your side, his touch radiating further warmth into your already heated body. "Is it just me—," you asked as you met his gaze, "or your hand seems to wander way too carelessly on my body tonight," you squinted suspiciously.

"I'm just making sure you are safe," he shrugged nonchalantly.

"I'm not the client, you know that, right?" you huffed as you grabbed his hand, took it off your waist and walked towards another room, searching for the old man, before you heard a voice in your earpiece, letting you know about his whereabouts. Heading to his position, you felt Billy's presence right behind you again. You halted your steps and turned around, folding your arms in front of your chest.

"You were not supposed to be drinking," he repeated himself with a stern expression across his face, one that told you this time he wasn't playing around, he was indeed unhappy with you. But instead of apologising or acknowledging his presence for that matter, you simply ignored him and looked around the room. "Do you even realise that I'm your boss?" He frowned, looking at you with a questioning gaze. "I feel like I have been way too lenient with you," he groaned as you stared him down. You caught sight of a waiter heading your way, so you quickly snatched another glass from his tray and gulped down the champagne.

"So? What are you going to do about it?" You asked in a mocking tone, smirking at the man as he chewed on his bottom lip. The words escaped your vocal cords before you could even protest. In normal circumstances you would have never dared to say them out loud, but the alcohol in your system, the two glasses of champagne seemed to do the trick. As you weren't big on drinking and barely had any alcohol, it hit you harder than someone who was used to its strength.

"I could fire you in this instance," he hissed, his tone low and warning. You took a step towards him, barely leaving a couple of inches between you as you looked up at him.

"Then why don't you?" You asked, arching a brow, waiting for a reply. "Come on, why don't you, huh?" You taunted him. "What did you expect? That I'm going to beg you to let me keep my job? Humour me, Russo," you huffed, this time wearing the same shit-eating grin he wore before.

"You are playing with fire," he spoke through gritted teeth as he sneaked an arm around your waist and pulled you flush against his chest, forcing you to lift your head higher to be able to look up at him. "I don't appreciate that tone," he continued in a low, dark voice, one that made your knees buckle, the air stuck in your lungs. "If you want to get my attention, then you can stop, you have had it for a while," he growled as he brushed his lips against your earlobe, his breath fanning the sensitive skin behind your ear. "But if it's for the sole purpose of pissing me off, I advise you to cut the bullshit, because I don't like your stupid little game," he squeezed your side as he pulled back, his jaw clenched.

To be fair, you weren't sure why you were taunting him, but there was something about him when he was frustrated, when you knew he was just a push away from snapping. You never dared to cross that line, nor did you want to do it now, but that borderline dangerous look in his eyes made you feel weak, his strong arm around you rough and warning, still you couldn't stop yourself from poking the sleeping lion. "So, you can play with me, but I can't do the same? Don't you think that's hypocritical?" You scoffed, folding your arms in front of your chest, creating even more space between you. There was a moment of silence as Billy studied your face, trying to decide if you were serious or you had gone completely mental.

"You are drunk, you are not making any sense," he scoffed as he got hold of your arm and started dragging you towards a closed door. As he opened it, you found yourself in some sort of a lounge with a sofa on the opposite wall of the room, an armchair on each side and a small coffee table right in front of it. The dim light and empty room created a rather welcoming feeling after the loud ballroom. "Sit down and take a minute for yourself, I will be back in a second. Hopefully by then you will make more sense," he threw the words at you as he left and closed the door behind himself.

You didn't attempt to take a seat and lounge around, you didn't want to sit down and do nothing, though the slight dizziness you felt urged you to do so. For a second you debated if you should listen to your instincts and indeed rest your tired limbs, but you shook yourself out of the thought and instead wandered around the room, looking at the paintings on the wall. Each art was of the same man— the one you were supposed to be protecting— wearing the finest of clothing you have ever seen. Rich folks, you scoffed at the thought, but before you could have dwelled on them any longer, the door opened. Without looking over your shoulder, Billy's cologne filled your nostrils. "Did you come back to police me?" You said without turning to look at him.

"It seems I didn't give you enough time to clear your head," he mused.

"My head is completely clear," you shot back at him, stumbling a bit as you felt slightly lightheaded. He stood in front of the closed door, hands tucked in the pockets of his trousers as he casually leaned against the wooden panels.

"I can see that," he scoffed, this time with a tiny smile in the corner of his mouth, running his eyes up and down on your body, his gaze darkening.

"I'm not drunk," you pointed at his chest as you walked up to him in haste, halting your steps right in front of him, leaving a barely visible gap between the two of you, feeling the heat radiate from his body.

"And I believe that," he replied in a mocking tone. "Though it leaves me with a question. It seemed you had some difficulty standing on your own two feet just a minute ago. What was that about that then?" His smug grin grew wider, knowing he was right. Indeed, there were some side effects to the alcohol you have consumed.

"Fine," you replied, jaw clenched in anger, teeth gritting as you held yourself back. "I'm— I might be— a little drunk," you cleared your throat as though admitting it caused you physical pain.

"Okay, now we are getting somewhere," he said as he lifted his hand and brushed his fingertips along the curve of your shoulder, slowly following the path down to your wrist. "So, why did you drink then?" He asked, with a slight amount of curiosity.

"You pissed me off," you shrugged nonchalantly, earning a chuckle from Billy as he kept repeating his movements, running his fingers along your arm, causing goosebumps to appear on your skin, which he did not miss.

"That's not very professional, is it?" He asked, teasing you as his strokes moved from your shoulder to your collarbone, forcing your breath to turn shallow. He lifted his eyes, meeting your lustful gaze, only to caress his ego further. "If I didn't know you better, I'd say you are not only drunk, but that smart little head of yours might just be filled with some very— very dirty thoughts," he chuckled as you swallowed nervously, his palm cupping your face, running his thumb along your lip.

He wasn't wrong though. There were thoughts that you wished never to voice, thoughts that had him standing in front of you naked, completely exposed, your hands running across his toned chest, his mouth nipping at the soft skin of your neck. You licked across your lips as the thought became even more vivid, his grumbling tone forcing you to draw your thighs together, needing some sort of a friction. He arched a brow at the movement, a cocky grin spreading across his face. "It seems I'm right once again and you are not even trying to deny it," he breathed as he planted his other hand on your waist and drew you closer. "Tell me, where is that pretty head of yours wondering to?" He let out a low chuckle, but you didn't answer, you didn't dare to say it. "Let me guess," he leaned down to your ear, tickling your neck with his beard, causing a knot to appear in the pit of your stomach, your breathing turning ragged, "are you horny?" He let out a low chuckle as he bit your neck, earning a silent squeaking sound from you, his actions 'almost' sobering you up. 'Almost', because within seconds you find yourself leaning into his touch.

"I—," you tried to reply, but your throat seemed too dry, your heart was beating so heavily, you could hear the drumming of your own pulse in your ears. "I maybe— just maybe a little horny," you breathed as he ran his lips along the curve of your neck, forcing your eyes to flutter shut. Before you realised your own actions, you cupped his cheeks and pulled him away from your neck, pressing your lips to his, stunning him for a mere moment, before he returned your advances. The kiss was hungry, teeth tugging at lips, tongues fighting for dominance, but that was what you needed. You pressed your body against his, closing any remaining gap between the two of you, earning a low growl from Billy. He grabbed your hips, holding onto you as though he was trying to ground himself, keeping himself sober in the haste of that heated kiss.

"I think we should stop," he breathed as he finally found his strength to leave your lips. A deep frown spread across your brow as you studied him.

"Why?" You asked in confusion, knowing— feeling his body's reaction to you.

"Think whatever you want of me, I can be a lot of things, but I like to think that touching someone without their consent is wrong. I believe we have already done more than we were supposed to," he cleared his throat as he tried to push you back gently, but rather firmly and you obliged.

"I'm giving you consent, Russo," you replied in disbelief.

"You are drunk, so I'm not sure you are," he shook his head. A loud huff left your lungs as you walked up to the sofa and sat down, placing one leg over the other, crossing them as you sunk deeper into the cushions.

"Okay," you scoffed. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I said I was a little drunk. You see little is the key word here," you tilted your head, hoping he would understand where you were going with this. "As you can see, I'm capable of talking, walking, thinking and I'm certainly not crawling on the floor, am I?" You arched a brow, watching his expression turn contemplating. "I will make this easy for you, Russo," you continued, your tone inviting. You lifted your leg from the other and spread them just enough, so the opening of your dress fell between your legs, the high cut design revealing your bare thighs. Seemingly it was enough of an encouragement for Billy to tense up and swallow visibly. "So, what's it going to be?" You asked as a mischievous smile grew wider across your face just as you slowly started closing your legs. Before he could even stop himself, he pounced on you, kneeling between your legs, stopping you from closing the gap as he pressed his lips against yours, ready to take you up on your offer.

His mouth attached to yours hungrily, grabbing your thighs as he pushed you further into the sofa. You busied yourself with his clothes and started untying his tie and unbuttoning his shirt, impatiently trying to pull the material out of his trousers. You threw his tie on the floor, soon followed by his shirt, before you pushed him down beside you and crawled into his lap, earning a groan from him. "You little beast," he grinned at you as he grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you down to meet him halfway in a heated kiss, his hands grabbing your ass, pulling you further down onto his lap, his kisses trailing down to your neck, leaving you panting, whispering his name in your half-clear state of mind.

"Just so you know, I still hate you," you breathed against the crook of his neck as you returned the satisfying attention he was giving you, nipping on the sensitive skin, earning you a throaty groan from him.

"Yeah, I can feel it," he chuckled as he bucked his hips, causing a gasp to erupt from your lungs. "Let's discuss that after you stop screaming my name in pleasure," he replied through gritted teeth as grabbed your hips and with a swift movement changed your position, throwing you on your back, hovering above you. He studied your dishevelled look with a smug grin across his face, before he pressed his lips to yours again, his hands exploring every part of your body that he didn't have the chance to before, forgetting about everything and anything about the ball on the other side of the safely locked door.

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