#to borrow a friend’s words it is just GLORIOUS

[winedogs]

JAY AX!!!!!!!!!!!! 2024 is our year 🔥🔥🔥

[minisugakoobies]

Paradise | JJK - Epilogue

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: smut, neighbors to lovers (not quite friends but not quite strangers), slow burn, love triangle, Stripper!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: it's happy ending time!, lots of domestic cuteness, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), shower sex, teasing, dirty talk, someone gets a lap dance 👀, sex in the champagne room, aka sex at work (don't be that coworker!), unprotected sex (monogamous relationship with alternate bc), multiple orgasms

Word Count: 9.1k

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me

Summary: That sexy man on stage - the one currently giving your friend the lap dance of her LIFE - is your super shy neighbor, Jeon Jungkook?!

A/N: And now we've reached the end! I can't believe it's been three years this month since OC and Jungkook's story began!! A gigantic THANK YOU to everyone who has liked, commented, reblogged, recommended, and/or sent asks about Paradise. This is for you! 💜

Unbeta’d as usual. Please don’t be a silent reader, I’d love to hear from you!  Tell me what you think of the ending! 💕

Previous Chapter ♦️ Paradise Masterlist

Bzzzzzzt

Saturday afternoon dawns bright. You can hear birds chirping outside the windows, joined by the buzzing of bees.

Those are some loud fucking bees.

No wait, that’s your phone.

Bzzzzzzt

You grab it off the nightstand.

Huh, nope. No missed texts or calls.

Bzzzzzzt

What the hell is that sound?

Throwing back the covers, you lug yourself out of bed, snatch a t-shirt from the floor and yank it on, and traipse down the hall, following the incessant hum.

Bzzzzzzt

The noise leads you to the bathroom, where your boyfriend stands over the sink, examining himself in the mirror. 

“Hey, jagi,” Jungkook greets you warmly. “Did I wake you? Sorry.” He leans over, planting a soft kiss on your cheek.

“No, it wasn’t you. I heard some sort of buzzing.”

“Ah, yeah, that was me.” He holds up some sort of metallic grey tool. An electric razor? But he doesn’t have one of those. You know by now that he waxes for his job, and what little hair ever appears on his face he takes care of with a simple disposable razor. “Testing this out.”

“I didn’t know you had one of those,” you say, leaning against the doorway. 

“I don’t. Namjoon-hyung let me borrow it.” He tilts his head left and right, staring at his reflection.

“Borrow it for wh-oooh my god, Kookie, no!” 

Your question becomes a wild wail as your boyfriend brandishes the razor and in one swift move shaves off a chunk of his hair. Watching the dark locks tumble into the sink feels like a scene from a horror movie, unfurling in slow motion.

You glance at Jungkook. Where glorious waves once adorned the side of his handsome face, there is now naught but stubble. 

Meanwhile, Jungkook chuckles as he examines his handiwork. “What’s wrong, jagiya? You don’t want to see a fresh new me?”

“Not if it means sacrificing your gorgeous hair!” you pout.

Of course you love all of your boyfriend. Goes without saying. But his hair! It’s so pretty and thick and silky and fluffy and - 

-and he’s going to shave it all off??

Bzzzzzzt

Another swath joins the first. Two sad curls at the bottom of the sink. 

“Kookie, why?” you lament. “Your pretty hair!”

“Relax!” He laughs, running his tattooed fingers over the scruff that remains where he’s shaved so far. “It’ll grow back eventually. You’re starting to make me think you only love me for -“

Upon catching sight of the expression on your face, he trails off, eyes widening.

“Don’t be stupid,” you reassure him. “I love you for so many reasons. More than there are stars in the sky.”

He grins, turning away.

“Your hair is just, like, 25% of that. Maybe 30.”

“Okay, I’m kicking you out now.” 

“Don’t bother. I’m going. I can’t bear to watch anymore.” You spin on your heel, heading for the kitchen. “If you need me, I’ll be crying into my cereal, mourning over breakfast.”

“Could you mourn me up a smoothie while you’re at it?” 

As you raise your hand over your head to flip him off, he giggles, pausing in his task to admire the way your ass peeks out from under the t-shirt of his that you’re wearing, before disappearing back into the bathroom.

In the kitchen, you quickly whip up a banana smoothie, appreciating how the obnoxious whirr of the mixer drowns out the evil buzzing echoing down the hallway. Sticking the smoothie into the fridge to keep cold until your boyfriend finishes murdering his hair, you sit down to enjoy a bowl of your favorite sugary cereal.

It hasn’t taken much for you to acclimate to Jungkook’s schedule over the last few months since Jennie’s wedding. You’ve all but moved in, hanging around his apartment (usually napping) until he gets home from work in the early hours of the morning. Most of the time, you stay up for a bit, talking and helping him unwind (sometimes fucking, sometimes giving him a gentle massage to soothe his muscles, sometimes just letting him lay with his head on your chest). Usually near dawn you fall asleep, and then wake at noon to spend the afternoon together until he leaves for Paradise in the evening. 

So you've become accustomed to a midday bowl of cereal by now. Of course, it helps that you’re no longer bound to the 9-to-5 life, ever since you quit your job.

The bathroom is rather quiet for several minutes, so you figure Jungkook’s completed his horrible task. So you brace yourself for the sight of a shorn head - 

-only to be surprised when he strolls into the kitchen with a sharp undercut.

“Well?” He turns this way and that, striking poses as he walks over to you. “What do you think?”

His dark hair is slicked back, revealing a shorn section on each side of his head, perfectly highlighting his brow piercing. Long strands still flow on top, a swoop falling into his eyes as he smirks at you.

It defies the laws of reality, the way something like this can make your hot boyfriend even sexier. How is it even possible?

Standing, you extend your fingers, letting them run over the short hairs, enjoying the pleasant prickle. 

“I think I owe Namjoon a thank you card,” you murmur. The soft stubble tickles your fingertips, like fuzz on a peach. “Maybe even a gift basket.”

His smile grows as he draws you into his arms. “See, you were worried for nothing.”

“I really thought you were going to shave it all off!” you exclaim. Nuzzling his face into the curve of your neck, he laughs, amused huffs of breath dancing over your skin. 

“Nope.” He slides your hand into what remains of his hair, lithe fingers encouraging yours to wrap around his locks. “I am thinking about dyeing the rest, though. What do you think sounds better - cherry red or buttery blonde?”

“Blonde!” Did you blurt that out a little too fast? Maybe, judging by the cock of his eyebrow.

“Blonde it is.” 

“Do you want your smoothie?” You reach for the fridge door, but he stops you.

“I gotta clean up first. All those little hairs…” His eyes drop to your lips. “Time for a shower.” It’s an invitation that you’re all too happy to accept. 

Jungkook first steps under the spray of water to rinse away the hairs still clinging to his face and neck. But as soon as you join him, he crowds you against the wall of the tub, mouth meeting yours, hand diving between your legs, opening you up to take his cock. He’s a bit rushed in his movements, driven by a fervent need to bury himself inside you as quickly as possible, but you don’t care, just as desperate to feel him yourself. It doesn’t matter how many times the two of you do this - every time you need him just as much as you did the first time. 

When he slides into you, you let out a loud moan, knees already too weak to stand on. He holds you pinned against the tiles as he thrusts into you, wrapping one of your legs around his waist to help keep you up. “So good, jagi,” he grunts, setting a fast pace. All you can do is hang on, every stroke of his thick cock into your throbbing cunt making you sob his name, until your panting gives way to cries of ecstasy. He spills inside you then, his lips pressed to your cheek, breathing soft words of love across your skin. 

In the afternoon, after Jungkook has gone to meet Namjoon at the gym, you decide to take a walk downtown to get a little work done. It’s surprising to you how much has changed in the last few months. Before, the thought of working on a Saturday would’ve sent you into an anxious (and annoyed) spiral. But now? You’re not bothered by it at all. Apparently that’s what happens when you like your job. 

Not long after the wedding, you’d gone to the interview Wendy had graciously hooked you up with. Jungkook had helped you prepare, but you were still nervous as fuck. You needed to escape your current company. You needed this new job.

But as the interview progressed, that nervousness turned into a different sinking feeling. Because as the interviewer droned on and on about your responsibilities in this new position, it became more and more clear that you were essentially interviewing for the same job you were trying to leave. It wasn’t a way out. It was a trap. If you took this job, you’d be caught in the same quicksand, dragging you down again. 

Despite your growing sense of trepidation, the interview went incredibly well, and you felt pretty confident that you would be hearing from the company soon. Which left you with little time to figure out if you wanted the new job or not. 

In the end, it was your promise to Taehyung that made the decision for you. His presentation to the bank was a success, and with his new loan, he’d opened his own studio. Even though you’d done countless presentations over the years at your company, helping too many of their clients to count, this was the first time you’d actually felt joy at the result of your hard work. Helping Taehyung to achieve his dream was a special moment.

It also gave you an idea. A week later, you declined the new job offer. And turned in your notice to your employer. No more working for others.

Time to be your own boss.

It’s just a few blocks from your apartment building to where you’re headed. The bell hanging over the door chimes pleasantly as you let yourself into the little shop. Taehyung’s photography studio is technically closed on Sundays, but with the key he gave you, you can come and go as you please. It’s an arrangement that suits you well. 

As you’d expected, Taehyung is sitting in his office in the rear of the shop when you get back there. He nods a quiet greeting, then perks up when he sees the second cup in your hand. You’d stopped at the coffeehouse on your way here, knowing that Taehyung is still splitting his time between Paradise and his studio, which means he’s usually exhausted on Saturdays.

“You really are an angel,” he murmurs, grabbing the cup.

“I know,” you grin, taking a seat at the makeshift desk Taehyung had created for you. He’d been so grateful for your help that he’d insisted that you use his office as your own temporary workspace while you established your consulting business. You were in no position to turn down free rent, but you’d agreed to only if he let you act as his interim bookkeeper. It was only fair. “Where’s Yeontan?”

“I gave my assistant the day off,” Taehyung replies. “He’s back at the apartment with Ji and Min.” He pauses to stretch lazily. “Thanks again for helping with the move the other day. We still owe you and Kook dinner.” 

“Don’t worry, we’ll make sure you pay up.” You never turn down a free meal, though honestly, it was enough of a reward for you that you’d gotten to watch your friend Jisoo fall in love with her two boyfriends over the last few months. That’s the word she’d used for them both the other day, when you all helped Taehyung move into Jimin’s place. You hadn’t seen Jisoo this head over heels for anyone since… well, since you’d known her.

Taehyung sips his iced Americano. “What are you working on today?”

“Going over the stuff Felix sent me. We’re meeting with the bank on Tuesday.” 

Having Taehyung as your first official customer had been a blessing. After he’d raved about you to the other dancers at Paradise, you’d suddenly found yourself with a whole list of potential clients. There was Felix, who wanted to buy a food truck for his baking hobby and start a brownie delivery service; Namjoon, who was considering creating an urban nursery for the plants he grew in his tiny greenhouse; and Bang Chan, who wanted to discuss the possibility of running his own gym. Even Hoseok wanted to introduce you to a friend of his who was thinking about opening up a male strip club called Outlaws. You’d barely struck out on your own and yet your calendar was already packed.

You pull out your laptop and settle in. “What about you, what’s on your slate today?” 

“Just going over some shots.” 

The other dancers at Paradise were the best hype team. They’d spread word of mouth about Taehyung’s photography and the studio had been booked since day one. Not that his talent didn’t bring in customers on its own. But it was so touching to see the others rally around Taehyung like that. 

The other dancers had also embraced you warmly. You’d already met most of them from your visits to Paradise or the night of Taehyung’s exhibit, but once Jungkook introduced you as his girlfriend, it was like you’d gained an entire family of siblings overnight. And now that you’re on the inside, it’s so easy to see the way they care for one another. No wonder Jungkook loves working there so much. 

Well, that, and the tips he makes.

Taehyung slides over so you can see his screen. “It’s Jennie and Yoongi’s session, if you want to take a look.” 

“Oh, yes, please!” 

Jennie and her husband had recently booked a photography session to announce Jennie’s pregnancy. As Taehyung slowly scrolls through the shots, you try and fail to will yourself not to tear up. Your friend’s baby bump gets bigger every time you see her and it’s unreal to think that it won’t be long until Baby Min is here. 

Wordlessly, Taehyung hands you a tissue. 

“Thanks.” 

After spending so much time with Taehyung over the last few weeks, you understand why Jungkook adores him so much. He has a very comforting presence, which is nice for you right now, since building a company from scratch is a nerve-wracking experience. 

“So, tonight’s the night, right?” 

Again you grin, nodding. “Yeah.” 

“How are you feeling?”

“Excited. But also if I’m being honest, a little scared.” 

Everyone - all of your friends and family - has been super supportive for you during this time, lending their help whenever asked. But no one has been more supportive than Jungkook. He’s listened to you rant about your worries and fears at two in the morning when you know he wants nothing more than to hit the pillow and snooze until noon. He’s made you meals when you were too busy to tear yourself away from your computer to eat. He’s spent so much of his own time taking care of you that you started to fret you’d turned into another job for him. 

But when you voiced this concern to him, Jungkook shook his head. “Taking care of you isn’t a job,” he’d said. “I do these things because I want to, not because I have to.”

You’ve never known anyone like him before. Never known someone who could be so selfless, so freely giving of himself all the time. So freely giving of his devotion, in every sense of the word. You can’t help but want to worship him yourself. 

Despite his claims that he’s doing these things of his own free will, you still feel like you owe him something. A sign of your appreciation. Hence your plans for tonight.

“Why scared?” 

You finish your drink, but don’t put the cup down, twirling it in your hands as you think. “What if I make a total ass of myself?”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Easy for you to say,” you snort. Of course he’d be confident, if he were in your shoes. Taehyung radiates an aura of exceptional self-assuredness. It’s difficult to imagine him being rattled by anything. If tomorrow he was told that he needed to perform emergency brain surgery, he’d snap on his surgical gloves without so much as batting an eye. 

“Listen, I know Jungkook. More importantly, I know how much he loves you.” Taehyung flashes you a reassuring smile as you look at him. “There’s nothing you could do tonight to change that.”

The funny thing is, you’re pretty sure he’s right.

Jungkook’s already making dinner when you get back to his place. The delicious scent of gochujang jjigae draws you into his kitchen, where he stands facing the stove, his back to you. Walking up to him, you can’t resist sliding your arms around his waist.

“Hi,” you sigh, burying your face between his shoulder blades, breathing deep the ocean scent of his cologne. 

“Hey jagi,” he hums, a happy note vibrating through his chest as he rests his tattooed hand on top of yours for a second. “Food’s almost ready. Can you grab some bowls?” 

As you reach into his cabinet, it strikes you just how domestic this moment is, getting ready for dinner with Jungkook, like you’ve done so many times before. Thankfully, he’s the one who usually does the cooking, while you help however you can (typically just by staying out of his way - it’s what you do best in the kitchen). It’s unbelievable how easily you’ve fallen into this routine with him. Not a trace of fear in you as you reflect on it. 

“I wasn’t sure if you were gonna be back in time to eat with me, but I made enough for two just in case.” He joins you at his little table, ladling stew into your bowls, before he takes the seat across from you. He’s dressed like he usually is for work, just a hoodie and sweats, since he’ll be changing into costumes all night.

“You’re too good to me, Kookie,” you simper playfully with a sweet grin, but you really mean it, knowing that if you’d texted him that you wouldn’t be back, he’d still make extra and put it in the fridge for you. 

He rolls his eyes, but the tips of his ears betray him, turning pink. The two of you dig into your meal, quietly enjoying the food and each other’s company. 

“I meant to ask you,” he says after a few minutes, “do you know when Jin-hyung will be back in town?” 

When you’d called things off with Seokjin, you’d made him promise to keep in touch while he was out traveling for his cooking show. He’d taken that pledge to heart, texting you brief updates and sending photos from the road. You’re glad to have made another friend from this whole experience. Especially one whose name you can drop to make hard-to-get dinner reservations. (Seokjin gets a real ego boost when you do that - he’s the one who suggested it in the first place.)

Though things had gotten off to a rocky start between Jungkook and Seokjin, they’d become fairly good friends themselves. It doesn’t really surprise you, since they have more in common than they thought (not even counting you) - both are talented and determined, funny and handsome, not to mention both give a hell of a lap dance. Also, it’s hard not to love Jungkook, no matter how you meet him. 

“Um, I think last time I heard from him, he said he’d be back in two weeks for a short break.”

“Good. That should give me enough time to finish.” He doesn’t say anything else, but you can read between the lines so well with him by now. 

“Jin’s going to love his portrait,” you reassure him. 

As soon as Seokjin had seen Jungkook’s artwork, he’d wasted no time in commissioning the younger man to paint his portrait, to be hung in his newest restaurant. You know that Jungkook is thrilled at the opportunity, but he’s also a little nervous, wanting to impress Seokjin. It’s pretty cute, truth be told. 

You glance up to find Jungkook watching you with a small smile. 

“What? What are you looking at? Am I a mess?” You grab your napkin, dabbing at your face, but he shakes his head. 

“Nothing. I’m happy you’re here. I feel like I’ve barely seen you the last few weeks, you’ve been out working so much.” 

“Oh, right.” You scratch your ear, giving him an apologetic look. “I know, I’ve been busy.”

“I’m not saying that’s bad!” Jungkook raises his hands. “I just… missed you.” 

“Kookie,” you sigh, heart bubbling over with fondness. Your boyfriend is such a sap.

You set down your spoon and rise to your feet, locking your arms around him. He looks up at you with so much love in his eyes you nearly pinch yourself. But you don’t have to. This isn’t a dream, it’s your life. Silently, you thank the universe for everything you did that led you to this man. Then you press a gentle kiss to his waiting lips. 

“I missed you too. But I’m hoping all this will be worth it.”

“It will be, jagiya,” Jungkook asserts, cupping your face gently. “I know it’s hard. But you know what you’re doing. And you’re not alone - you’ve got so many people in your corner. Like me.” He grins, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “I believe in you.” 

There’s a sudden lump in your throat, making it impossible to speak, so you let your lips express what you feel. What’s left of your dinner sits forgotten as you climb into his lap, kissing him until you’re both breathless. Only then you’re able to whisper a quiet thank you. 

Jungkook’s right. You can do this. Especially with him by your side.

Sparkling Rosé ✨ (8:15): Are we still on for brunch tomorrow?

Bestie 😇 (8:17): Yes! I miss you guys

Bestie 😇 (8:17): This baby’s not even here yet and they’re already keeping me busy

Bestie 😇 (8:18): Plus I’ve been craving waffles for days

Sparkling Rosé ✨ (8:19): We miss you too! 

Sparkling Rosé ✨ (8:19):  And you too, YN! You work too hard

You (8:20): I know 😔I miss you all too

Lovely Lisa 💋 (8:21):  I’ll be there!

Queen Ji 👑 (8:22): Yes we’re doing brunch because YN needs to tell us allll about tonight!

Sparkling Rosé ✨ (8:23): OH THAT’S RIGHT!

Lovely Lisa 💋 (8:23): Ahhhh that’s tonight?!

Sparkling Rosé ✨ (8:23): Break a leg! 🙌

Lovely Lisa 💋 (8:24): LET’S GOOOOO

Queen Ji 👑 (8:24): You are going to KILL IT

Bestie 😇 (8:24): *airhorn.gif*

You (8:25): 🙈🙈

You (8:25): We’ll see

You (8:25): But thank you 😘

Queen Ji 👑 (8:26): Oh no! None of that

Queen Ji 👑 (8:26):  Trust me, you’ve got this

You (8:27): And just how are you so sure about that?

Queen Ji 👑 (8:28): Jimin told me. He never lies

You (8:29): I knew I should’ve asked Namjoon

Sparkling Rosé ✨ (8:29): As if he wouldn’t tell me

Sparkling Rosé ✨ (8:30): I like the guy but he can’t keep a secret to save his life

Lovely Lisa 💋 (8:31): Relax, you’re gonna be amazing! Just have fun with it

Bestie 😇 (8:31): Yessssss have fun

Queen Ji 👑 (8:32): But also put your back into it

Bestie 😇 (8:33): You should probably stretch first

You (8:33): Yes, eomma, I will

Bestie 😇 (8:34): I’m going to kindly ask that you never call me that again

You (8:35): But you’ll be hearing it all the time soon!!

Bestie 😇 (8:35): Not from you though! 🙅

Queen Ji 👑 (8:36): Sorry, eomma, we’ll behave

Bestie 😇 (8:37): Oh god, *especially* not from you

Bestie 😇 (8:37): Okay I’m out. I’ll see you all tomorrow. But don’t forget!

Bestie 😇 (8:38): 📣You’ve got this! 📣

Queen Ji 👑 (8:38): She’s the best mom

A few hours later, you find yourself alone in an unfamiliar space. A small room, containing only a handful of pieces of dark furniture. Velvet curtains drape three of the walls, while the fourth is a mirror. A crystalline chandelier hangs from the ceiling, the glass reflecting the soft lighting, scattering shimmering spots of illumination around the room as the bass pumping from the overhead speaker makes the decoration bounce.

You wipe your sweaty palms on the skirt of your dress, wishing you could take your friends’ advice and relax right now. Instead, your nerves are jumpy and your pulse is racing. The waiting isn’t helping. 

As you switch seats for the tenth time since you got here (you can’t decide which is a better place to sit, on the pleather couch or the matching chair), you adjust your dress, hoping you look more confident than you feel. Confidence is key for what you’re about to do, according to Jimin. 

Maybe you should’ve thought this through more. More practice would’ve been helpful, too. Why did you decide to do this now? You’ve really got to work on your patience, you think, eyeing the couch again before moving seats again. 

The curtains sway slightly as the door to the room opens. Immediately your mind empties of all thoughts as your adrenaline kicks in. It’s showtime. You sit up, trying to strike an enticing pose, waiting for the man who opened the door to finish locking it and turn around. 

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting t- baby??” Jungkook freezes, head cocking to the side in confusion. You knew that Jimin had told him he had a Paradise customer waiting for him in a private room.  “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to surprise you,” you grin, suddenly feeling really shy. Which is the exact opposite of what you need to feel right now, if you’re going to pull this off. “So, um, surprise!” 

Jungkook smiles, obviously thrilled with your surprise, and crosses the tiny space in two strides. You stand to greet him, taking in his outfit, a silky black shirt unbuttoned over a pair of black leather pants. He looks just like he did the night of Jennie’s bachelorette party, only with a new haircut. The fabric of his top is soft beneath your fingertips as you lay your hands on his shoulders, accepting his kiss hello. 

“Not that I’m not happy to see you, but… you know you didn’t have to pay to see me, right?” Jungkook murmurs against your lips. “I’ll dance for you any time.” 

You do know that, because he’s danced for you several times now. Sometimes he likes to get your opinions on a new routine, and other times… other times, he just feels like dancing for you. 

Knowing all this, you nod, smoothing down the folds in his shirt, trying to distract yourself from the way your stomach is tying itself in knots. Relax, you remind yourself, taking a deep breath. There’s nothing to be nervous about. It’s Jungkook. 

“I know. But this actually isn’t about me tonight. It’s about you.” 

Applying a little pressure on his shoulders, you push Jungkook onto the couch. He looks up at you questioningly, but doesn’t say anything, merely takes a seat. That’s so like him - to read you so well that he understands you’ve got something planned, so he’s letting you lead the moment. Just that tiny act of deference heartens you, leaving you more sure about what you’ve got planned. 

You walk over to the panel on the wall that controls the overhead speaker. Your phone is already hooked up, and with a few swipes, you change the playlist.

“I wanted to do something for you, to show you how much I appreciate everything you’ve been doing for me.” For some reason it’s easier to explain why you’re here without looking at Jungkook as you do it, so you fiddle with the phone a little as you speak. “I know the last few weeks have been stressful, because of everything I’m trying to do, and I just… I want to thank you. And I thought this was the best way to do it.” 

When you turn back around, Jungkook’s watching you with such a rapt expression that you can’t help but feel almost foolish about being so worried about this. It doesn’t matter if you can’t give him a show on the same level that he does. You’ve got his full attention no matter what you do. 

You’ve got his love. 

With that comforting thought, you take a steadying breath, in and out, and then begin. 

Dancing is really not your strong suit, but the biggest lesson Jimin taught you is that it’s not the moves themselves that matter - it’s the attitude with which you perform them. It’s all about setting a mood.

So you let the music guide you. Let yourself sink into the groove set by the drums and bass. Jungkook lets out a tiny “oh, fuck,” when you start to shake your hips. You fight the urge to giggle, biting your lip in a sultry manner instead. You’re wearing a cute but simple dress, something that will be easy to remove when the time comes, but you dance like you’re dressed in the sexiest outfit imaginable, sliding the skirt up your thighs a little to tease him. 

Even though you’re only a few feet away from Jungkook, you take your time approaching him, dragging out the anticipation. His hands rise automatically, reaching for you, but you dodge his grasp, taking them in your own hands instead. Something else Jimin taught you - lay down the rules right away. 

“I’m here to dance for you, Kookie. So let’s get one thing straight - I’m the one in charge.” You squeeze his hands to draw his attention to them as you place them at his sides. “That means no touching me, unless I say it’s okay.” 

Jungkook blinks at your words, but he doesn’t argue or try again to touch you. “Yes, baby,” he says, eyes brimming with adoration as he nods at you, and again you feel a surge of confidence. 

With your back to him, you place a hand on both of his knees, guiding him to spread his legs apart. Then you lower yourself into his lap, laying back against his chest and tilting your face towards his. If either of you leaned forward the slightest bit, your mouths would touch, but you resist the urge, and he waits breathlessly to see what you’re going to do next. 

You bring your arm up, then trail your hand down his chest, across your breasts and stomach, and on to his thigh, just skimming past his crotch. His hips buck slightly beneath you, and you grind in his lap, giving him the friction he seeks. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll touch you all you want,” you whisper. 

Jungkook groans loudly. You glide around the couch until you’re behind him and run your hands down his arms and over his chest. The silk of his shirt is starting to stick to him where he’s sweating. You’ve barely started and you’re already having an obvious effect on him.

It’s not just his temperature that’s rising, you note with a smug smile when you return to your spot in front of him. The tight material of his pants barely restrains his erection. Again you sit on his thighs, facing away from him, throwing your legs out in a wide stance as you pop to the beat. 

“Shit, baby, yes,” Jungkook praises you with a deep groan when you lean forward, giving him a good view of your ass as it bounces. “Where’d you learn to dance like this?” 

“Well, um…” you pause to bend further, nearly touching the ground, enjoying how Jungkook swears quietly when he gets a glimpse of your panties, “you know how I’ve been so busy lately?”

“Uh-huh…” Jungkook responds mindlessly, far too occupied with the sight in front of him. He’s being so patient, keeping his hands at his side like instructed, but the telltale twitching of his fingers lets you know that he’s fighting hard to behave.

You decide to take pity. Just a little. Turning, you straddle him, and grab his wrists. “Here you go,” you wink, placing his hands on your hips. “Just hold on for me.” 

Jungkook hums, vision trailing up your body from where your hips are swaying to where your breasts are now in his face. 

“I was working, but I wasn’t at Taehyung’s studio. I was taking some lessons from Jimin.” 

He looks up at that. “Wait, you were what?” 

The surprise on his face makes you giggle. There’s that wide-eyed Bambi look that you love so much. As the next track on your playlist starts, something a little slower, you shift into a grind, dragging your ass over Jungkook’s lap. He hisses, fingers tightening their grip, almost bruising in their hold, but he doesn’t try to guide you like he usually does when the two of you are in this position. It impresses you, the restraint he’s showing. 

It makes you want to make him lose control. 

You run your fingers through his hair, lifting it off his face, and lean close to his ear. “I wanted to make this good for you, baby. Give you exactly what you deserve.” Your lips hover across his cheek, not touching, but your breath caresses his skin, making him shudder beneath you. 

“Jagi,” Jungkook swallows thickly, eyelids heavy with desire as he peers at you. “You’re amazing. I can’t believe you’ve been hiding these moves from me.” 

You bite back another big smile. “You haven’t seen anything yet.” 

His hands fall from your waist as you spin around, nudging his legs apart. Following the rhythm of the music, you undulate your body down his, your back sliding down his chest, then down his lap, until you’re on your knees. Then you place your hands on the ground in front of you, lowering your bottom half to the floor in a slow humping motion, before flashing him as you whip your legs into a split in order to roll yourself onto your back.

“Holy fuck, jagi,” Jungkook gasps, digging his hands into the couch on either side of his thighs, desperate for something to clutch. “You’re finally gonna do it. You’re going to be the actual death of me.” 

Despite yourself, you start giggling. “Kookie! Don’t make me laugh.” You take your time rising to your knees, then to your feet, playing with the hem of your skirt. “I want you to take this seriously.” 

“Oh, I am, baby, believe me.” Jungkook bites his lip, nodding. His eyes follow the path your hands take, dragging the skirt up to reveal your lower stomach. Meanwhile, one of his hands has found its way to his crotch, squeezing his hard cock through his pants. You’d considered making another rule earlier, that he couldn’t touch himself, but truthfully, you want to watch him enjoy himself. 

“Good boy,” you purr, and Jungkook whimpers loud enough for you to wonder if you’ve tapped into something previously undiscovered about him, but you’re too busy to ponder it any further as you swing your hips, using his knees to help you drop yourself down to the floor again in a low squat. 

The power you feel as he watches you is beyond intoxicating. What you’re doing right now is nothing compared to the skill he displays when he dances, but you understand a little better why he does this for a living. You feel like you could do anything right now. 

As you come back up, you lean into him, hands on his chest, your face so close to his, and this time the need to kiss him is too strong, so you stop denying yourself, connecting your mouths briefly, just enough to have him chasing you when you pull away. Before he can protest, you distract him by pulling your dress over your head in one swift movement. 

“Baby,” he moans, eyeing the matching lingerie set you picked out especially for tonight, his favorite color and his favorite texture, the black lace just begging him to run his fingertips all over it. “Is that new?” 

Of course he’d notice. He’s got the contents of your underwear drawer practically memorized. Not surprising since most of the sets are from him. He’s got a thing for nice lingerie and you’re more than happy to indulge him. 

“Bought it just for you.” With your back to him, you straddle one of his thighs, centering yourself on the thick muscle, and roll your hips in slow figure eights. Grabbing his hands, you wrap them around you, placing one on your bra and the other just over the band of your panties. “Do you like?” 

Jungkook’s answer is a wordless growl as he strokes the lace. You hum, tossing your head back so it rests on his shoulder, and slip the hand over your lower stomach down further, until he’s cupping your mound. 

“Ah!” you gasp, hips jutting forward when his eager fingers go rogue and press against you in a sign of his slipping control. “I - I’m guessing that means yes.” 

“It means fuck yes,” Jungkook declares. “You’re driving me insane right now, you know that?” 

“I think I’m getting the idea,” you reply, trying to focus on finishing your dance and not just outright humping his hand. Tracing your fingernails down his forearms makes him loosen his grip enough for you to climb off him. As the next track plays, you drape yourself over the side of the couch so your back hits his lap, and lie there shimmying to the beat for a few seconds before unhooking your bra and tossing it aside. 

“Jagiya,” Jungkook rasps roughly, tongue licking furiously at his lips, and even though you’re only maybe halfway through the routine you’d been practicing, you decide to skip to the end, because clearly your boyfriend is close to breaking, and frankly, so are you. 

You throw your leg over his lap, straddling him again. Taking his hands, you lace your fingers together, using him as a counterweight to help you dip backwards, so low your head nearly brushes the ground, before you roll back up, pressing your forehead to his. You stare at his mouth and he stares at yours as you inhale a steadying breath to speak.

“You can touch me now.” 

The current of electricity simmering between you suddenly blazes out, igniting the air around you. His hands slide to the small of your back, and your arms loop around his neck, both of you pulling each other as close as possible as you meet in a charged kiss. Jungkook moans into your lips, tongue chasing the sound. Your mouth parts to let him in. 

Jungkook’s hands keep moving, gripping your waist, your ass, your breasts - it’s like he’s been starving for you, like those few minutes that he wasn’t allowed to hold you were an eternity and now that they’re over he must take his fill. Your skin vibrates beneath his fingertips, so much pent-up energy ready to burst, and you seek an outlet, grinding your hips down onto his. 

“Kookie,” you whine helplessly, and Jungkook grunts in response, rutting his erection against you, fitting between your legs so perfectly, the two of you like puzzle pieces coming together to form a complete picture of lust. 

“I’m here, jagi,” he murmurs, lips brushing along your jawline and back to your mouth before continuing down the other side. “I’m here.” 

In a second, you’re on your back, watching Jungkook peel off his shirt before he covers your body with his. His kisses are just as greedy as his touches, and you lose yourself in him, devouring the desire on his lips with a wild ravenousness of your own. 

But as he trails kisses down your body, you open your eyes and stare directly at the chandelier hanging over you, and a thought hits you with startling clarity - oh, right, you’re still at Paradise. At Jungkook’s place of work. 

“Jungkook. Jungkook,” you repeat, threading your fingers through his hair to tug his head off your breast, where his tongue was lapping at your nipple. “Should we do this here?” 

Jungkook blinks at you a few times. “Isn’t this - don’t you want to?” 

Of course you want to. But all those times you’d pictured this moment, your best hope was that he’d enjoy the dance and promise to thank you in private later when he got off work. You hadn’t really considered that you’d do such an amazing job that the two of you would fuck on the spot. (Okay, that’s a lie, you’d considered it a lot. But still. Imagining fucking your boyfriend at his job and actually fucking your boyfriend at his job are two very different things.)

“I want to,” you reassure him, brushing a wandering drop of sweat from his brow. “I just don’t want to get you in trouble.”

Jungkook laughs, leaning up to press a kiss to your cheek. “Baby, trust me, I’m not the first one to do this. There’s a reason “no sex in the champagne room” is a saying.” He sees the mix of confusion and disgust on your face and laughs again. “I’m not worrying about it and neither should you. But if you are, we don’t have to do anything. This has been more than enough for me.”

“So… you liked your dance?” you ask in a tiny voice.

Jungkook lets out a pained groan. “Baby, I loved it. I can’t believe you did all this for me.” His hand brushes over your hip, playing with the lace there. “You’re too good to me, you know that?”

“Not true.” If anything, he’s the one too good to you. “But I’m trying.” 

He kisses you again, slow and sweet. You feel yourself melting into his embrace. Any remaining concerns vanish as Jungkook lowers his head, taking your nipple into his mouth again with a messy kiss. If he’s not worried, why should you be? Besides, as you arch your back, chasing Jungkook’s tongue as he drags it down your torso, only an apocalypse could stop you now, and maybe not even that. 

“You know,” you start, gasping slightly when his teeth graze lightly over the swell of your stomach, “I’ve fantasized about this.”  

Jungkook glances up at you. “Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah. I mean, I usually pictured you dancing for me, but, um, we always ended up fucking.” A flash of heat licks the back of your neck as you meet Jungkook’s eye. 

“That’s usually how I imagine it, too,” Jungkook informs you. The casual admission of this mutual secret fantasy stokes your arousal. Jungkook flames it further when he ruts his hard cock against you. “Sometimes you ride me, sometimes I bend you over this couch, but it always starts with me giving you a private show.” 

Your breath leaves you in a hiss. “Fuck. That sounds good.” 

“Which one?”

“Both,” you groan, rolling your hips. “All of it.” 

Jungkook kisses your neck to smother his laughter. “It’s not too late, you know. I can make those fantasies come true.” His tone deepens as he speaks, becoming darker. Oh, you know this tone so well. He’s shifting to demon mode. 

“Another time. I mean,” you clarify immediately, not wanting him to misunderstand, “you can give me a private dance another time.”

“Aww, is my baby too worked up right now?” he teases, and this time he doesn’t bother to even try to hide his laughter when you whine, pressing your hips into him again. “Okay, jagi, I promise I’ll dance for you another time. I won’t make you wait any longer.” 

Again he slides down your body, kissing over the soft lace of your underwear. He pulls your thighs apart with his hands so he can stick his face directly between them. His stuttered breath blows hot over the damp material barely covering you. Impatient, you reach to push your panties down, but Jungkook grabs your hands and pins them over your head. “Kook!” 

Jungkook shakes his head at your pouty cry. Leaning over you, he catches your bottom lip with his teeth, pulling it to his mouth for another wet kiss. 

“Let me, baby,” he coos sweetly, and then he takes the lace band in his teeth and slowly drags your panties down your body using only his mouth. 

“Fuck that’s hot,” you moan, unable to tear your gaze away. Jungkook hums, dropping the sodden silk on the ground before lowering his lips to kiss your pussy. He’s sloppy and loud, and in a brief lucid flash of sanity you pray that the music covers the sounds out in the hallway. 

Jungkook always moves at his own pace, in his own time, and nowhere is that more evident than the way goes down on you. He loves building you up slowly, so slowly, until you’re going out of your mind begging him to let you cum. Tonight, however, he’s moving fast, slipping two fingers inside you, getting you ready for him.  If asked, he’d claim it was for you, but the truth is that he needs you as much as you need him right now. 

“Love the way you taste,” he murmurs, fingers spreading you wider, dragging his tongue over your clit. He curls his fingers, smirking at your gasp, and repeats the movement. It feels so good, too good, so your hand snakes out and grabs his wrist, and he stills, looking up at you in confusion. 

“Wanna come on your cock,” you explain.

He groans, reclining back on his knees. “Whatever you want, jagiya,” he says, fingers flying to the laces on his leather pants. He’s used to taking his time untying them on stage, drawing the moment out seductively, a marked contrast to the clumsy way he tugs on them now, trying to undo them as quickly as he can. 

With only a little bit of struggling, he pushes his pants down, then kicks them off completely. He wraps one hand around his hard length, thumb and forefinger pinching slightly just below the flushed head. Your teeth sink into your lip as you stare at him, taking in sight of this gorgeous man kneeling between your legs, looking every bit as hungry as you feel. 

“Tell me how you want it.”

You clench unconsciously at Jungkook’s command, mind running through all the possibilities. Honestly, you don’t care how, you just need him inside you now. 

So you reach out, gently prying his fingers away from his cock. Jungkook sighs when you take it in your hand, a sound of deep-seated contentment, like he’s been waiting all night for you to touch him. You understand the sentiment, thighs twitching as you slowly pump him a few times, using his slickness to make your movements easier. 

“Just like this,” you say, guiding him towards your slit. He hisses as you slide his head through your folds, and presses forward a bit, helping you coat him in your arousal. 

“Okay, jagiya,” he murmurs. He arranges himself between your legs, lifting one calf, then the other, over his broad shoulders. You shiver, breathless with anticipation as you catch the feral glint in his eyes. “Just like this.” 

A harmonious pair of moans fill the room when he enters you. He waits for a moment, because as rushed as his fingering was, it wasn’t enough to fully stretch you out enough for him. When you whisper, “okay,” he starts to move. The first few rolls of his hips are slow and easy, him savoring the tight warmth of your cunt around him, you delighting in the sensation of being filled so completely. He kisses the side of your knee, staring down at you as you whimper beneath him with every languid thrust. 

When your hands stretch out for him, he leans down, bending you in half to press his mouth to yours. He sinks deeper into you, your bodies locking together more closely, and you lace your fingers through his hair, until you’re breathing each other’s kisses like air. You whisper Jungkook’s name and he sighs yours back. 

“Love you so much, jagi.” 

His mouth nudges your head to the side in search of that sensitive spot behind your ear, and you open your eyes to catch sight of the two of you in the mirror. Even if the room were pitch black right now, you’d be able to see yourself lying there, the way you’re lit from within. Your love for Jungkook burns inside you like a star in the night sky, pulsing bright and steady. 

“I love you, too.” 

Jungkook’s pace steadies, his pelvis starting to bounce off your ass with more speed.

“Oh, fuck, yes, baby,” you moan, watching him piston his cock inside you. “More, please, Kookie! More!” 

Never let it be said that your boyfriend doesn’t listen. He pulls out, getting off the couch, and, with strong hands gripping your thighs, positions you with your hips resting on the arm of the couch, to raise you high enough for him to plunge back in from a standing position. 

And then he gives you exactly what you asked for. 

Jungkook fucks you hard and fast. His furrowed brow drips with sweat as he snaps his hips into you. You know nothing could break his concentration now - eyes sharply focusing on your expression, ears listening for the change in the pitch of your voice. When he feels your walls starting to constrict, he grips your thighs to tilt you just enough to find the right angle to tap your sweet spot with every pump - 

“Jungkook!” With a loud gasp of his name, your climax arrives. Your cunt pulsates so tightly around him that Jungkook clamps his arms around your legs, pulling your ass flush against him so he can grind into you.

“Oh, fuck, jagi, ‘m so close.” His voice is already wrecked, sounding rough and broken. He bends slightly at the waist, forcing your legs closer to your stomach, putting you at an odd angle, but you’re still buzzing with pleasure so you don’t notice the stretch, just let out a low moan as Jungkook starts to move again. 

He bends further, sliding his hands behind your back, and then he lifts you, using that surprising strength of his to hold you as he slides around to sit on the couch. Your legs support you just long enough to straddle him, and then you sink down onto his cock, more than happy to collapse against Jungkook as he fucks up into you. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants, bringing one of his hands up to cup your cheek. “Always so good, jagi.” You meet his gaze, struck by the love you see in his eyes. No matter how often he looks at you like this, it makes your heart sing every time. You kiss him before sitting up, meeting his thrusts with your own movements.

“Come for me, Kookie,” you murmur sweetly, drawing your boyfriend’s eye with the movement of your hand as it heads down your stomach. Your fingers rub at your clit, rolling the engorged nub around, and the delicious drag of his cock inside your constricting walls has you hurtling towards a second orgasm just as Jungkook reaches his first.

Your playlist begins the last song as the two of you cling to each other on the couch. Jungkook’s arms are still locked around your back while you rest your head on his shoulder. He sings along quietly to the music, his soothing voice wrapping around you like a blanket. It’s a favorite song of his, just as it’s a favorite of yours - the song from your rooftop dance at Jennie and Yoongi’s wedding.

When the music ends, Jungkook sighs. “We should definitely do this again.” 

You laugh, sitting up. He grins at you and you lean forward to press a light peck to the tiny mole under his lip. “I may have booked you all night.” 

“Like I was gonna let you walk out of here anytime soon,” he scoffs. He stops your giggling with his kiss, lips soft and lingering, and you sigh, hugging him close again. 

There’s a part of you that can’t believe you just fucked your boyfriend in a strip club, but somehow it felt inevitable that you two would end up here like this. Like from the moment you walked in here all those months ago, there was no other way this would go. 

It was such a strange trip to think about. You had to go all the way to Paradise to meet the love of your life who lived next door. Fate could really take the most roundabout way, but the journey was more than worth it. 

“You really didn’t have to do all of this for me.” Jungkook’s voice brings you back to the moment. 

“I want to do everything for you,” you reply with a shake of your head. “You deserve the world, Kookie.” 

“I have everything I could ever want, jagiya. Right here in my arms.” 

Normally, this is where you would roll your eyes at him for being so sappy, but that’s hard to do when you’re blinking back tears. Instead, you squeeze him a little tighter, so he knows that you feel the same way. 

“You know…” Jungkook starts after a few seconds, then stops. You shake him a little to urge him to go on. “There is something else I’ve been thinking about. Something I want to do, but I wasn’t sure if you’d be into it.” 

“What is it?”

He glances down, and there’s the shy bunny smile that you remember from all those months ago. “I’d love to paint you.” 

“Naked?” you whisper, hand to your chest, looking scandalized.

He laughs, nose wrinkling in glee. “That actually wasn’t what I meant but I’m absolutely down if you are.” 

“We’ll see,” you grin, kissing his cheek. “One thing at a time. Right now, we’ve got this room to ourselves, and I believe you promised me a dance.”

“Yes I did,” Jungkook agrees, chin jutting out to catch your next kiss with his lips. “Anything for my love.” 

“I love you, too,” you sigh, kissing him back. 

************************************************************************

A/N 2: Yes, there will still be some drabbles down the line, but this is the end of the main story! Thank you for sticking with me! 💕

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

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© 2021-22-23-24 by sunshinerainbowsbts/minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost.

[isaiahpadams]

Hi, this is an excerpt from a novel I'm working on. It is a very rough draft of a scene based on my own experience as someone who had to learn English as a second language. Please share your thoughts and opinions, just click "keep reading" to see it.

“I learned English when I moved here, I was five years old I believe, by reading from a dictionary and listening to period dramas a family friend would watch.” He chuckled at himself "People used to laugh because, naturally, the words I knew were outdated. My teachers adored me because I had an extensive vocabulary but the others thought I was showing off.” There was an expression of something like shame on his face as he continued “That is why I find it hard to speak to you, I tried breaking the habit and adjusting, altering-" he trailed off in thought for a moment, taking in a deep shaken breath “but I cannot speak to you without weaving poetry into all I say. You make a poet of me.” Priyam laughed and it was the sweetest sound Amadeo had ever heard. “I know you are not a judgemental person, but I worry you might tire of it or think I’m speaking for the sake of speaking, when in reality I just cannot shape this love I have for you into anything other than sickening, dramatic, awkward poems. No simpler words quite fit the archaic devotion.” He paused “I am not trying to force beauty or to make myself look better, smarter, I know my words are out of place, my accent-” Amadeo kissed him, held him and tried to will his own love to translate into this one kiss. “You are not just a poet, but every poem ever written. Your voice is the only music my mind repeats over and over so that I can commit it to memory. I love you.” The hand on his own was so incredibly grounding. “I really hope you know that your voice is genuinely the most beautiful sound I have ever heard and the way you speak makes every pitiful word in existence become something glorious, this isn’t your first language, nor is it mine. We both have to translate each thought into something else, not all words or feelings carry over as well as others but you do it so beautifully, I envy it sometimes.”

They had not yet noticed that they had a similar way of speaking by then, that they shared so much of their time together that they spoke almost as one, borrowing each other’s words and voices.

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Bonding Rituals

Previous =-= Next

Author's note: More of Claude in mermay. That's @sleepyfan-blog for letting me borrow Cedric.

Summary: Claude hears some strange noises and investigates, what he sees is some strange bonding, and vaguely masochist ritual between a couple of Black Templars.

Warnings: none? Let me know if I need to add anything!

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams

Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog, @whorety-k

He continues to swim through the water, he’d put the wretched mirror, that might be cursed back into one of his pockets. There are quite a few different pods and schools of space marines in these waters, loyalist, renegade. All of First Born, and he’s only sensed the rare Primaries Space Marine. One of the primaris marines that he’s sensed that are nearby is a good friend of his Cedric- who he’s not seen a long time, since their assignments came down and they were to be sent to different chapters. He’s… he’s fine. Just… it’s the stress from everything and getting shifted into these strange waters after being nearly killed in battle that has him all out of sorts and… seeing Lies in the Mirror.

If he was… if he was a dreadful, hated shape shifter, surely he would know? The Mechanicus would have said something? Or not. But his pod, they don’t shift, or, at least they hadn’t. The Primaris Space Marines who exhibited Oddness or Powers far faster or more strongly were taken away by the Mechanicus… never to be seen or heard of again. That’s why he never said anything about the whispers, the green, the giggles. For it would have him die while in training and his body parts used to further the goals of their handlers. Dying is something that happens, to all, but he’d rather die in glorious service, rather than found wanting and Not Being What He Should be.

Claude had been swimming about lazily, it was during one of his days off and during his free time, he was ... mostly recovered from learning about that Lie in the Mirror. That shard of a mirror that feels like it burns in his armor's pocket. But for some reason he can't discard it, try and trade it away or something. When he tries he gets a wicked headache and some voice within him warns him not to.

So he doesn't and very reluctantly has kept it. As he starts to spiral and brood about the mirror shard he hears an odd clanging noise. And voices speaking in one of the primary languages that the Black Templars speak, as well as more odd clanging noises. Curious, he swims in the direction of the noises, laughter and voices speaking. He sees a mildly scowling Cedric who has his Apothecary 'you are doing something stupid and I have to watch' face.

One of the other Black Templars that he recognizes is Ramiel. He's in an odd large stick with another back templar seated across from him precariously on the wooden stick. He sees that Ramiel was just given a large, heavy dark pan. The pair of Black Templars seem to the shit talking each other- from the way they are posturing. Then Ramiel brings up the pan, takes a swing and smacks the other Black Templar on the side of his head. The other Black Templar sways a moment, before righting himself. Claude hadn't meant to let out the worried and startled trill, as all three Black Templars turn to look to him.

"What are you two doing?" Claude asks them flummoxed.

"We are seeing who's better at taking hits to the head," Ramiel explains, "The person who loses is the one who falls off of the stick."

"That sounds like a good way to get a concussion." Claude says with a frown.

"It is!" Cedric says glaring at his fellow Black Templars, "but this is also one of the bonding rituals of the Black Templars."

Claude has some questions and statements that he'd like to ask, but he knows that a lot of his questions or words wound sound highly insulting at best, and they'd likely get offended at his line of questions. But- as he blinks, with sudden clarity and understanding. He now understands Black Templars a Lot Better and why they are Like That. They beat the shit out of each other with Heavy Pans. For Fun. He's heard the rants from Apothecary Type Space Marines about the dangers of Head wounds and concussions, and how, even with the advanced medicines, technology and healing factors, that Concussions are still quite... tricky and long-lasting injuries that could have long term consequences for the person receiving the concussion. Even years later.

He looks towards Cedric, who huffs out, "The Black Templar Apothecaries have tried to get this particular bonding ritual ended, or at least replaced with a less effective thing to beat our brothers with."

"It wouldn't be as fun or as meaningful!" Protests the eldest of the Black Templars.

Cedric's expression soured, while Ramiel almost shrunk in on himself. Claude eyed Ramiel, who'd been nearly dead upon arrival on Ancient Terra. He's mostly recovered, but is so much quieter than he remembers his brother- no, he's a cousin now, being. Then again, Ramiel's had the honor of becoming an Apprentice Chaplain, of which type he doesn't know. He's also noticed how clingy Cedric's been with Ramiel, and how anxious the latter has been around other Black Templars, other First Born Cousins as well.

He's unsurprised that Ramiel's likely had to suffer the wrath and overly critical and harsh reprisal in their Era from their First Born brothers and cousins for being themselves. He heard about the schism that happened in the Black Templars, and heard of how many of the Primaris were being slaughtered for being 'abominations' which they are not. They are good, loyal, obedient, strong, clever, Angels of the Imperium.

He wonders if any of their First Generation of Primaris Marines have had good stories with First Born or not. Except for the time they spent with the Ultramarines, who'd sent them from Mars to their chapter assignments. Then he remembers what Catius had told him of what happened to him before he'd arrived on Terra and a bitter, sour taste floods his tongue and his expression soured.

"I have heard that Catius has found some of his fellow... brothers who were on the same ship as him, back before his arrival on Terra," Claude says.

Catius had stripped his armors of colors, and from his nightmares and what he'd told him, he's going to respect the other's decision. Although, he's curious of what he's going to do next, and which colors he's going to choose. Whether it's is old ones, which he's going to reclaim, or if he's going to choose a different Chapter to paint his armor in. Claude is drawn out of his thoughts by hearing another loud clang and Ramiel starting to flail and falls off of the wooden stick. The older Black Templar roaring in delight that he'd won the bout. While Cedric swims over and checks them both to make sure they haven't done more than superficial damage. Both of them had been wearing their helmets during the 'smack each other in the temple with a heavy pan' 'ritual' and only had minor bruising.

[indomitablemegnolia]

So, on an off chance that I will be heard I leave this mark on the world. I believe that kindness, compassion are the things that can heal the world; not that I believe it could ever be a great…err good place, but it is our home. I believe people are beautiful; albeit I can’t seriously say all people.

I… live; I am alive; how…why… possibly purely out of spite. They tell me I am going to die… I have been in a plane crash; head on car collision; been beaten… attacked left bleeding; and always yet I am alive. In my life I have done 18 rounds of chemotherapy; I plant a garden, watch the butterflies and bees do their work; I see the blue of the sky, the clouds and the rain with the iridescent rainbow edge of the water refraction. The trees glorious in their stoic watch they keep of the world, the colour of the leaves… they comfort.

I have a inoperable brain tumor; I had eighteen lymph nodes and 11 Foot of intestine and colon removed. I have had seizures; gods they are like slipping off the edge of the world. Its kind of hard to see out of my left eye, but this is all old news. Three days before Christmas I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis, my neurologist says it is well advanced; the medication he wants to put me on is hugely expensive; $7600 a dose. My insurance denied it; like a good self- advocate I called to make sure it was not coded wrong. It was not; the man on the phone begins to tell me how lucky a static zero like me to even get the chemotherapy, I am currently enjoying; a bit of a exaggeration of that last word. I proceeded to dress him down in return; using static zero, an occurrence that happens in a magnetic current where no matter how much current is added or subtracted it the pole still stays at zero; he obviously studied to be an electrical engineer; but alas he is stuck in a dime a dozen human squawk box on the end of the phone being directed by an A.I. program; explaining why he lacked kindness or empathy.

I know he was trying to cleverly insult me, I kind of took that as a compliment; no matter what I “gain,” or “lose" I am still here. New diagnosis new research; and gosh, it’s hard to keep optimistic. I have never gained much; I am a loser most often; lost my dogs last month, as well as three cats; lost my car it just stopped wanting to start; lost my ability to taste and swallow; lost at my one single try at love; lost my home; lost every foray, so far, at tying for disability; lost my favourite sunglasses; hell I lost a one hundred bill to a Buddhist monk. Though I have not lost my sense of humour or my unique style.

You see when you kind of borrow the idea of perfect imperfection and ichi I, ichi go; the idea of treasuring the unrepeatable nature of a moment. The term has been roughly translated as "for this time only", and "once in a lifetime". In that simple truth all were never really mine; though they were all mine for a moment. I do wish I had a friend to talk this new development with… but I don’t want to weight down another human with all of this. I am seeking out a counselor I have an appointment on the 9th, I just don’t know sometimes; the world continues to get more and more curious.

@iamhisgloriouspurpose @mousedetective @writernotwaiting @notpedeka @

[theink-stainedfolk]

Rasira

---

It had been Cheruu’s idea, as most reckless things were. Rasira should’ve known better than to trust the glint in his best friend’s eye when he said, “Come on, we’re just borrowing it for a second. It’ll be fine!”

“‘Fine’ is the word people use right before everything goes horribly wrong,” Rasira grumbled, gripping the handlebars of the stolen campus delivery bike.

Cheruu was perched on the back, arms outstretched like a circus performer. “You’re overthinking it! This is what college is about! Freedom! Stupidity! Potential concussions!”

“Two out of three of those sound terrible,” Rasira muttered, but the slight grin on his face betrayed his excitement.

The bike wobbled precariously as they sped down the steep hill near the engineering building, the wind whipping through their hair. It was late evening, the campus deserted except for a few passing students who paused to gape at the two idiots hurtling downhill at breakneck speed.

“Cheruu, we’re going too fast!” Rasira yelled over the rushing wind.

“That’s the point! Faster, Raspberry! I believe in you!”

Rasira rolled his eyes but couldn’t help laughing. His knuckles whitened on the handlebars as they picked up even more speed. The bike’s bell jingled madly, a cheerful soundtrack to their chaos.

Then came the turn.

“Cheruu,” Rasira called, his voice tense. “The curb is—”

“I see it!”

“Do you?”

“I’m navigating with my soul!”

“Your soul is blind!”

The front wheel hit the curb with a sickening jolt, and the bike bucked like a wild horse. In a glorious display of physics and poor decision-making, both boys were flung into the air.

Rasira landed first, skidding across the grass before crashing into a flower bed. Cheruu followed shortly after, somersaulting mid-air like a ragdoll before landing upside down against a tree.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then Rasira groaned, lifting his head from the bed of crushed petunias. “Ow.”

“Are you alive?” Cheruu’s voice came from somewhere above him.

“I’m questioning it.”

Cheruu managed to peel himself off the tree, hobbling over with a lopsided grin. His jeans were torn, his elbow bleeding, but he looked more exhilarated than pained. “That was amazing! Did you see the way I flipped? I looked like an action movie hero!”

“You looked like roadkill,” Rasira shot back, attempting to sit up. He winced, clutching his side. “I think I broke something. Possibly everything.”

“That’s the spirit!” Cheruu beamed. “You’ll heal.”

“Cheruu, I hate you.”

“Fair.”

The sound of sirens in the distance interrupted their banter. Campus security, undoubtedly summoned by some horrified onlooker.

“Okay,” Cheruu said, crouching next to Rasira with a conspiratorial grin. “Game plan. We tell them—”

“—That we’re morons,” Rasira finished.

Cheruu shrugged. “I was going to say innovators, but morons works too.”

---

Later, in the hospital, the chaos continued.

Rasira was lying in the bed with his arm in a sling, his leg propped up on pillows. Cheruu was beside him in another bed, his forehead sporting an impressive bandage. Both were covered in bruises, yet neither of them could stop laughing.

“So,” Cheruu said, wincing as he tried to sit up. “On a scale of one to ‘we need to move to another country,’ how mad do you think campus security is?”

“They’re probably still filling out the paperwork for the flowerbed incident,” Rasira replied, chuckling. “Pretty sure I ruined a memorial garden. No big deal.”

Cheruu clapped a hand over his mouth, trying to stifle his laughter. “You’re a menace to society.”

“Says the guy who told me to ‘trust his soul.’”

“Okay, fair point.” Cheruu tilted his head, pretending to think. “What if we blame this on fate? Or gravity? I think we have a strong case against gravity.”

Rasira snorted. “Gravity’s lawyer would destroy us in court.”

The nurse, who had been patiently dealing with their antics for the last hour, walked in holding two cups of water. “You two are incorrigible,” she said, shaking her head but unable to hide her smile.

“Thanks! We aim to please,” Cheruu replied with a wink, earning a dramatic eye-roll from Rasira.

As the nurse left, Cheruu turned to Rasira with a mischievous grin. “So, when we get out of here… round two?”

Rasira groaned, throwing a pillow at him. “Never again.”

But the grin on his face said otherwise.

---

My ♡s: @paeliae-occasionally @willtheweaver @drchenquill @wyked-ao3 @the-inkwell-variable @corinneglass @seastarblue @frostedlemonwriter-deactivated2

[stupidneko]

just rlly curious but what was cat's role during ghost marriage(and other events)? as in, what did she do and was she important?

in ghost marriage Cat tried to court Eliza as a last resort, it didn't work unfortunately. She did make her flustered, and tried to slap her but Cat caught her hand( with the help of some special gloves from Sam) and kissed her, after the kiss Eliza's lips where speckled with ''blood''(everyone sees it as red, like normal blood) and Cat made a comment on how red suits her blueish skin , of course Eliza got really mad and managed to slap her this time.

After everything ended(Eliza and Puffy getting together) everyone would return to their dorms but Cat made an excuse that she forgot something back at wedding's venue. She ended up being surrounded by some ghost knights that didn't take very well Cat doing with their beloved Princess, only for them to be captured by Sam's ''Friends'' as payment for borrowing the special gloves. After that Cat returned back at Ramshackle, with no one knowing what happened back there.

as for other events such as Fairy Gala , Pandora took control over Cat's body for a second, marking it as her special appearance, as she makes eye contact with the Fairy Queen and smiles at her( the Fairy Queen gets instantly Vietnam flashbacks) the Queen ended up fainting but after that everything just continues according to the story.

In Playful Land Pandora once again makes an appearance, she has a little conversation with the Fox Lad(he doesn't realize that he's speaking with someone else so he get's confused on why Cat uses the words like "other-self") ''warning'' him that the 'other her' is pretty pissed off and that all his hard work will be in vain since 'she' is here(Pandora has so much fun with the whole situation going on)

In Glorious Masquerade there would be some interaction between Cat and Rollo, as ''catching'' her in the school's library, of course this doesn't back fire at him till the actual end of the story, as Cat and him getting separated from the others because of the fire. They have one final discussion in which Rollo get's mocked by her and how foolish his plan is. And with the piece of resistance, Cat's final move - is by reminding him about his younger brother and making some not so pitiful comments about it(she found out from some old articles from the library)

as for other event's i haven't thought to much but im sure i will come up with something. these event's bring me the occasion to show the real traits of Cat's personality.

[ravendruid]

Be In My Eyes - Chapter 11

You can read the previous chapters here or on AO3. Summary: Vox Machina go out to drink and Keyleth and Vax get to know each other a bit more. Disclaimer: the legal drinking age in this AU is 18, and all characters are 18 or over.

Glorious was indeed an apt name for the bar. It was located in a nondescript small street not too far from campus where the dark brick buildings blended so well collectively during the night that Keyleth couldn’t distinguish between them. The only way she could tell of the bar’s existence was the faint purple aura that emanated from the wooden door, along with the sign hanging above it: a golden unicorn over a dark background and Glorious written above it, in equally gold, beautifully calligraphed lettering.  

Keyleth and Vax had walked side by side, trailing the group who already knew their way to the establishment even with their eyes closed. She couldn’t stop blushing from how handsome he looked. There wasn’t much difference in his clothes, Vax was still wearing all black and his leather jacket, and part of his hair was tied in a bun as the rest fell to his shoulders. But something about seeing him out in the dark of night made him look more mysterious and sexier. Keyleth, on the other hand, had tried to put a little more effort into her look, she was wearing a white mid-thigh skirt and a red long-sleeve top with a curved neckline, and she had traded her canvas sneakers for a pair of black high heels that she borrowed from Vex, which made her even taller than Vax. Pike had helped her do her hair – two braids that pulled from the front, along the sides of her head and tied into a tall ponytail that cascaded past her shoulders – and Vex had helped with the make-up, a light red and orange toned eyeshadow, dark eyeliner and mascara and a soft pink lipgloss. Keyleth definitely felt pretty – prettier than she had ever felt – and seeing the boys’ reactions when the girls left their bedroom was absolutely worth it.

Keyleth wasn’t sure what she expected when Vex opened the wooden door – she had never been to a bar before, which was already making her nervous – but a beaded curtain in different shades of purple, pink, and golden was not it. Her friends disappeared through the curtain into the purple glow and the thankfully not-so-loud music inside, and as Grog stepped in behind Pike, Keyleth took a deep breath, readying herself for what was about to come.

“Wait,” Vax held her wrist softly, pulling her closer to him. His eyes searched for hers, and she saw her anxiety mirrored in them. “You say the word, we go, got it?” His voice trembled in a whisper. Keyleth swallowed and nodded.

“Let’s just–” She sighed. “Let’s just give it a try. For them?”

“Yeah, let’s try to have fun.” They both nodded in agreement, and Keyleth stepped in.

The first thing Keyleth noticed was that the bar looked much bigger inside than the outside appeared to be and that the purple aura they had seen from underneath the door came from the faint purple glow of lights spread around the area. The room was filled with old wooden tables and booths whose black leather seats were worn yet not ripped, and each table had a bowl with what seemed to be floating purple candles and rose petals. The walls were adorned with various curtains and fabrics in diverse shades of purple, lilac, soft pinks, and golden accents. On the opposite side of the entrance was a wall displaying dozens of bottles behind a long wooden counter where a very handsome man in his mid-twenties with long, thick, coarse black hair tied into a ponytail stood, greeting everyone and serving drinks. Even his attire appeared to fit perfectly with the purple and gold theme of the bar. To Keyleth’s right was a set of doors – one marked as restrooms, and the other had an employees-only sign affixed to it – and to her left was a wooden staircase with deep purple carpet and golden trim, that led to a second floor, much to her surprise.

Her friends were already gathered around a booth in the farthest corner, so Keyleth looked back at Vax and nodded in their direction. Thankfully, the bar area didn’t have many people yet, but he still followed her like a shadow, with the tips of his fingers just briefly touching her back in reassurance as she traversed the tables. Keyleth sat on the bench between Pike, on her right, and Vax, on her left. Grog, the bulkiest of the group, had stolen a chair from another table and sat at the top with a grin, so thankfully, they weren’t too crowded in the booth. Keyleth couldn’t help but notice that Vax was pressed to her side, yet his touch was relaxing and comforting, even though she knew he must have been as anxious as she was. 

“Alright, first round’s on me,” Grog announced, getting up. 

“I would like a Margarita, please, Grog,” Vex asked.

“You know what I want, buddies.” Pike chuckled in her seat, winking at Vex.

“Right, a beer. I gotchu, Pikey.” Grog had taken out his phone and was avidly typing on it.

“I’ll take the usual, please.” Scanlan shuffled in his seat, avoiding eye contact with Pike, who sat right in front of him.

“A cospomolitan for Scanlan,” Grog smirked.

“It’s cosmopolitan, Grog,” Pike corrected with a chuckle, much to Scanlan’s embarrassment.

“I’ll take a Long Island Iced Tea, please,” Percy asked.

“Percy, we are here to get wasted, not to drink tea!” Grog complained.

“It is alcohol, Grog. I promise.” 

Grog looked at Pike and Vex, and when they nodded in confirmation, he shrugged and typed on his phone.

“How about you two?” He looked at Vax and Keyleth, who had been watching the entire thing like a game of tennis.

“I–I’ll take a soda,” Keyleth said.

“They don’t have sodas here, Keyleth.” Keyleth could tell from the deadpan look Grog gave her that he was obviously lying.

“O–oh?” 

“Grog, get Keyleth the same as me,” Vex said in a sultry tone. “Trust me, darling. You’ll love it.” She winked, and Keyleth’s face flushed.

“Alright, and you?” Grog turned to Vax eagerly.

“Sex on the beach, please,” Vax replied nonchalantly. 

“I’m sorry, what?” Grog asked, confused, looking around at everyone else chuckling in their seats.

“You heard me, big guy.” Vax smiled and winked at Grog. Keyleth joined the laughter as Grog, rarely embarrassed by anything, nodded with a blush spreading on his cheeks and turned away to the bar.

“I think you broke him, Vax.” Pike joked, and Vax chuckled in reply. 

Keyleth would not have considered Grog particularly dextrous, so she was surprised when he returned to the table a few minutes later, holding one tray of drinks in each hand, his tongue out in concentration. However, Keyleth was also scared because, as he set down both trays, she noticed the second tray was full of fourteen shot glasses, a salt shaker, and a plate with lime slices. 

“O-oh no,” Keyleth blushed as Vax handed her two shot glasses and her drink. 

“What?” Vex smirked at her from across the table. “Scared of a little Tequila shot?”

Keyleth widened her eyes at her and fumbled with her hands in her lap nervously.

“I can take one of yours,” Vax said, glaring at his sister, who raised an eyebrow at him. 

“No, it’s fine. I’m just not used to drinking much.” Keyleth took a sip of her drink, and the hairs of her arms rose at the same time that cold spread down her spine. Her throat felt warm and cold at the same time, and the bitterness of the drink made her shiver. “Oh, this is strong,” Keyleth cleared her throat, and Vex laughed.

“Oh, darling. We’re gonna have so much fun tonight,” Vex winked at Keyleth again, who tried to hide further back in her seat.

“Alright, you guys know the drill,” Pike called to their attention, grabbing a lime slice and setting it on one of her shot glasses. Keyleth observed as, one by one, her friends licked the back of their hands and poured salt over it, and then grabbed a slice of lime. She looked to her side, only to see Vax smiling at her as he licked the back of his hand with a shrug. 

“You don’t have to do it,” He reassured her, pouring salt where he had licked. 

“Yes, she does. Shut up, brother,” Vex complained. “You’ll be fine, Keyleth. We won’t let anything bad happen to you.” Vex offered a kind, honest smile, which made her feel better, so Keyleth copied her friends once Vax was done with the shaker, licking the back of her hand and pouring salt over it. 

“Vox Machina,” Grog shouted, raising his shot glass in the middle of the table, followed by everyone else. “Fuck. Shit. Up.” He screamed so loud that Keyleth looked around to see if anyone had heard them – a few people were looking at the group in amusement – and he brought the glass to his lips and drank the clear liquid at once, bringing the lime slice to his mouth right away to suck on it. 

“It’s easier if you don’t think about it,” Vax said in a whisper next to her, and Keyleth noticed his glass was still full. “Ready?” She nodded. Vax clinked his glass with hers, keeping eye contact, and, with a reassuring smile, he downed his drink at the same time she downed hers. 

Keyleth recognized the same flavor as the one in the tall glass Vex had ordered for her as the warmth spread down her throat. From the corner of her eye, she saw Vax was still looking at her, offering her a lime slice, which she took gladly and sucked the citric juices. That was a mistake. Keyleth shouldn’t have taken his offering. She thought the juices would somehow lessen the effect of the alcohol on her throat, but it did the opposite.

“Are you okay?” Pike asked, on the other side of her, as Keyleth coughed again.

“Yes,” She lied. She couldn’t tell if the short girl believed her because Vex was already up, pushing Percy to his feet with one hand and grabbing Scanlan with the other, who, in turn, was clutching Pike. 

“Let’s dance,” Vex shouted, grabbing her drinks and heading to the stairs. Pike, Grog, and Scanlan followed her immediately, both drinks in hand, but Percy stayed behind, sitting back on the bench in front of Keyleth and Vax. 

“I’m sorry, Vex-” Percy tried to apologize,

“I know my sister, Percival,” Vax took a sip of his drink. “You can go join them if you want. Keyleth and I will save the table.” 

Percy looked at Keyleth, who smiled reassuringly at him, and asked, “Will you be alright?”

“Yes, I will.” She blushed. She knew she would be as long as she was not left alone. 

“Just text me if you need anything, okay?” Percy grabbed her hand from the other side of the table, and Keyleth nodded. Percy followed the group up the stairs with one last glance at Vax, leaving his second shot glass behind on the table.

“Do you want to try my drink?” Vax asked, and Keyleth glanced at it nervously. “It’s sweet and fruity,” he added. She shrugged and leaned to take a sip. He was right, the alcohol was less noticeable, and it had a nice fruity taste.

“I like yours better,” Keyleth said, leaning back.

“Everyone loves sex on the beach,” Vax joked, wiggling his eyebrows at her, but Keyleth stared at him deadpan. “I-it’s the name-” Vax stuttered, obviously nervous, but she started laughing.

“I know. I was just teasing you.” She admitted, holding her stomach. Vax relaxed next to her, his body physically sagging against hers. 

“Here,” he slid his glass to her and took hers, taking a sip with a wince. “I fucking hate margaritas, but they are a cheap and easy way to get drunk.”

“Really?” Keyleth sipped on the fruity drink, much happier now. “Do you and Vex go out a lot?”

“We used to. There was a time when we would go out almost every week, and I hated every single time.”

“You’re a good brother,” Keyleth didn’t even have to ask why he went with Vex if he hated it so much. She knew Vax would do anything for his sister, even if it meant he would be miserable.

“Do you have siblings?” he asked, playing with the lime on the rim of his glass.

Keyleth tensed at the question and looked down at her lap. “Nope, only child.”

“Gods, you’re so lucky,” Vax bumped his shoulder against hers, and when she looked at him, he rolled his eyes, which made her chuckle. 

“Although my neighbor, Lia, has a son. He’s four, and he’s the sweetest boy ever. I’ve basically helped her raise him because his good-for-nothing father left her when he found out she was pregnant.”

“Hmm,” For some reason, Keyleth knew the unpleasant hum was not due to the drink Vax was sipping on. “I love douchebag fathers.” 

“Yeah, he was an ass. So I babysat that boy every day after school for four years. He’s like a little brother to me.” Keyleth’s heart clenched, thinking about the little boy’s green eyes filled with tears when she had to explain she was going away to college and wouldn’t be able to play with him after school every day anymore. He had cried all night cuddled with Keyleth, insisting he wanted to stay with her until she left but compromising with staying for the weekend.

“You okay?” Vax asked, clearly feeling her discomfort.

“Yeah, I was just thinking about him.”

“Tell me more about him,” He asked, bumping his shoulder to hers with a smile. 

Keyleth’s face opened in a smile as she told Vax about the little boy she had grown to love as her brother. They talked until the only liquid in their glasses was the water that melted from the ice cubes. Keyleth told Vax about the adventures they had together, how he was such a great helper in the garden, the cakes and desserts they baked every weekend, and how he was growing to be a fine gentleman who always offered to open the door for her, even when he could barely reach the handles.

Eventually, after almost an hour, Vex’ahlia came looking for them, outraged to see their shot glasses still standing full in front of them and taking the one Percy had left behind.

“You guys don’t have to stay here all night. There is enough room upstairs. Join us. And drink your shots!” She scolded them before she returned to the group. 

“I did promise I would have a drink with you,” Keyleth shrugged.

“You don’t have to,” Vax offered with a smile, but she was already licking the back of her hand. The second shot wasn’t as bad, maybe because she already knew what to expect, and it felt like it didn’t burn as much. 

“Let’s go dance, I guess?” 

Keyleth wasn’t sure if it had been the second shot or the fact that she had been sitting for a while, but as soon as she stood up, everything around her started spinning, and she felt like she was falling, straight into Vax’s arms, who had quickly realized what was happening.

“Are you alright?” He asked, concerned.

“Everything is spinning,” Keyleth closed her eyes and let her head fall onto his chest. Vax tightened the grip on her, holding her upright.

“You got up too fast after drinking. Just take a moment.”

“I think I’m okay now,” Keyleth pulled away after a minute, no longer feeling the room spinning around her. “Let’s go dance.” She said with a bashful smile, holding Vax’s arm tightly and pulling him towards the stairs. 

Keyleth felt a different kind of warmth inside, a low buzz in her navel that made her want to stay close to Vax. His arms felt stronger than before when he held her, his chest was more comfortable than the other times she had leaned into it, and his scent was even more intoxicating. Keyleth was not an experienced drinker, so she assumed that whatever those feelings were, they were due to the alcohol and that everything would return to normal the next day. She wasn’t worried about the chill that traveled down her spine when Vax placed one hand on the small of her back as they climbed up the stairs – Keyleth had felt that before with him – what worried her was the warmth she felt in her lower abdomen and the new tingling sensation between her thighs. 

[childoftheyellowsun]

"I desperately needed a language that my parents will not speak or understand.  I did not speak English nor could read it properly.

If I had written something about what I was going through, in Marathi, the only language that we all knew, there was a danger that my parents could have read it. 

I was sixteen, was just out of high school and was severely heartbroken. I needed a language to be my secret code.

Aai, my mother was born in a small village of Vasai, north of Mumbai, in a poor family with four other siblings.

A catholic hamlet that included two modest houses, which had a few non catholic tenants. As soon as she had finished her matriculation exam, she had started working to contribute her share of money to the family.

Aai used to write short stories. She had a beautiful notebook. One evening, her father, in a fit of anger threw her notebook into the well in the backyard and warned her that writing is the indulgence for rich people and she should not waste her time doing it. Instead, she could find one more evening job to add to her income.

That well had a turtle in it.

Aai knew that the turtle ate her notebook. She never wrote a word again. It seems to me now, that my whole life is an act of revenge for the injustice done to her notebook. When I was born, she tells me now, she had decided, remembering the notebook disappearing below the water, that she will make me a writer. 

How does one make a writer? You can make an engineer, an architect, a husband or a banker. Not a writer.

The writer needs to be.

She was a rebel. She had proper male friends, another oddity for the family. She never went out with her sisters to shop or gossip. She did two jobs. She used to pay for her tea when she went out with her friends. She liked buying a film ticket and watching a new film alone in the theatre. That year when Hindi film ‘Bobby’ released, she decided to part with her traditional Maharashtrian dress and declared that she will only wear short skirts. She will never marry. She will continue to be a typist.

She would borrow books from library and she would live alone in Vasai.  She did not wait for permissions of her father and brothers. Dimple Kapadia now was her inspiration. When you do not have an army, or money your costume is where your rebel starts.

She immediately bought two skirts and blouses and made her statement.  She got herself another better paying job as steno typist in distant suburb of Borivali, for which she needed to catch the early morning train. She became the busy one, the most earning one.

But the idea of the short skirt did not go well. The result? Within a year, she was married into a household in Pune, where she was expected to be a housewife.

She would not step out and do any job, follow all rituals of the household and of course will forever wear a saree. 

A free-spirited girl inside her died as soon as I was born to her. It was her who decided that I will be a writer. Not me.

To my junior college I used to carry my inferiority complex, and a small notebook in which I noted the things that I felt.  I could never leave the notebook back home.

If she had found it, she would be glad that I was writing but she would not get the strangeness of it. The strangeness of my heart. 

A violin played for no one.  For us, in our mother tongue, the writing had to be lyrical. It had to be inspiring. It had to be glorious. It would have been great if it was socially useful. 

Or it had to be something that we munch with one hand while sipping the tea with the other. My notebook had nothing like it. I had no space to hide it.

The day when I told Aai, the root of my difference from the world around me, she became silent. Then she said, it is nature and we should learn to accept it. Nature will not leave anything unnatural around us.

So, what you feel is your oddity is simply the nature. The side of nature that we do not know of. Like some trees we do not know that they exist.

The fruits that grow in the unknown part of the world that we have not tasted yet. I will make sure to learn more about it. But meanwhile, are they going to give you grace marks in exam because of your whatever uniqueness? Is someone going to pay your bills because you are lonely? So, stop complaining. The world is a harsh place not only for you. So, you are not different, you are just like all of us, trying to make sense of things around us.  Now come, the dinner is ready.

All of this, she of course spoke in my mother tongue, Marathi.  The language I desperately wanted to run away from, to express my feelings. She was using it to express her wisdom.

That moment made me realize that I must write down what I feel, what I went through, on paper. In my mother tongue. Writing is not an indulgence for rich, as my maternal grandfather had threatened my mother.

It is quite the opposite. If I do not write, I have no other way to clear the tightness in my chest.  It does not matter if no one reads it. It does not matter if someone reads it and hates me.

If I do not tell my story, who will?"

(Written by Sachin Kundalkar.)

[charlotteswebbbbb]

What's the vibe? #63

Cannes wrapped up > next interesting festivals in August are Locarno and Venice (where I think we're getting a new Luca Guadanino film).

The Euros start next week. First England game is on the 17th June and they're up against Serbia.

French Open still going strong til the 9th - a women quarter final to check out is Coco Gauff v Ons Jabeur today, right now.

Isamaya x FaceGym collab and cosmetic surgery tourism:

Isamaya Ffrench has releases a gua shua metal accessory in collaboration with FaceGym. This non invasive cosmetic "procedure" if you can call it that, is an example of 1, the rise in this traditional, culture based way of approaching health and 2, related to the want for non invasive techniques.

The former - relating to maybe "decolonial" ways of living - "how did my grandma do this and is it related to today? does it work first of all?" You could also see this strand of thought going into storytelling, unfamiliar territory for some but I think that if Hollywood is obsessed with IP that already exists, that newness is risky for them. Independent wise, the base is built, the curiosity set up in adventurous watchers who love Letterboxd, so could work in that context. (Maybe this is West specific, the rest of the world is obviously going to delve into national myths.)

One of the biggest reasons in the big Korean soft power exploding alongside the fact that the music, food and general culture is big is beauty tourism. Korean skincare exploding has people looking at their "cutting edge" treatments to improve themselves on holiday. A little botox at 1, colour matching at 2.30, great dinner at 5.

Curating and individualism:

This is a funny read - as with many things about culture I never find people go deep enough about anything. I find that when people discuss trend cycles or something they've been in it for a while but now it's just...culture. It's the pouring of 300 bottles of liquor to create the glorious cocktail. They lack - I find it uninteresting

"are we killing culture?" isn't even a real idea or question. Culture will shift, mutate, regroup. I even think because of almost a year of activism, some tactics will be borrowed - it might be of the same speed/faster/underground or aggressively IRL because that's where you find

At the end of the piece, there's this link which was attached to the phrase "find our way back to reality".

IDK - even this doesn't move me - it's very stiff in terms of what to do. Like what do you enjoy? What's your perspective on things? There's consumption but people like enjoyment....which is why they consume? The most interesting writings or stuff is like maybe visiting Cafe Oto. You can observe from outside, hear the muffled sounds, enjoy a chat with a friend, go inside, experience something weird, different, go back out, write down observations, go back in and maybe read a little on stage to the audience and see how they feel about it.

I think now we've gotten near to peak curation, a lot of hidden gems are found and easily accessed - which is great for people, sometimes not great for creators, or businesses that are suddenly overwhelmed unnecessarily.

from above: "Structurally, the Internet is not getting better anytime soon; I have not hidden my pessimism about its future. But human creativity persists, even in hostile conditions. Figures like Gee, Reilly, and Shuherk make me hopeful that fun, interesting niches of activity can still survive online. There’s another word that we might apply to such people: “connoisseurs,” in the art-historical sense of passionate observers who shape a discipline through their judgments. We’ve always had connoisseurs, from the radio d.j. to the bookstore clerk, subtly but vitally informing the culture that the rest of us choose to consume. As Shuherk put it, “The person in the nineties working at Blockbuster—we’re the same person.”

I do think that the backlash to a lot of this in the next few years (or months) is just extreme gatekeeping especially for spaces for more marginalised people. Everyone wants to go to the cool thing but tourism decreases the legitimacy.

We're also in extreme tough economic times - see Black Keys, J-Lo cancelling US tour dates, Melt Festival in Germany stopping after 27 years due to changing festival landscape, (Maybe even Jamie XX doing a 10 night residency at Venue MOT). These examples to say anything smaller than the super established runs at a risk. It's hard to create culture when you can't pay rent but also hard to keep going if your audience extract the uniqueness from your creation.

from above: "An exasperated Dominic Cook, a former director at the Royal Court theatre, last month went so far as to call for renationalising the arts. His point, provocatively framed, was that the current system is broken. The model that worked when he started out in the late 1980s — when generous state funding and box office receipts combined to more or less cover costs — now requires hefty supplemental doses of private funding. "

We deeply need funding bodies to keep culture flowing - whether some new Medicis want to step in or "ethical" funding bodies or the government, we'll be happy nonetheless.

I mean this also doesn't mean that cool things aren't happening in industries such as film. For example something like not/nowhere or other cinemas are giving people the chance to learn new skills and showcase work.

4 the dating data heads:

androgyny dressing:

[yanderefairyangel]

I was bored so I tried to translate the Engage opening and ending a bit more faithfully. It's closer to a literal translation compared to the Eng version of the opening but I still tried to put the words in an elegant manner.

千の未来に祝福を　夢人かすむ刹那

Bless from thousand futures

dreamer bereft of a moment of peace

君は笑み護る花 立ち向かう黒鋼 戦いの熱砂

You are a smilling protective flower

A black steel that stand against elements

The hot sand of the battlefield

君は吹き渡る雪 晴れ渡る明と昏が 教えた傷癒すから

You are the snow blowing across

The clear dawn and sleeping dusk

I'll heal the wounds I taught you about

約束した　名を呼んで 駆け抜けた十二の光　覚えている？

As we promised call for my name

Do you remember the 12 light running across ?

赤の記憶燃え上がり 解き放て吼えろ 今こそ　此処へ！

The red memory burning brigtly

Unleash and howl!

It's time to let go here and now !

(Emblem-Engage！)

繋げ炎　伝えよ愛を あの旅路のように 彼の人のように

Connect the flame, Convey your love

Like this journey did

Like this person did

誓え絆　輝け夢よ この空の先まで 君と二人共に

Swear upon our bound, shine on my dream

Until we reach the end of this sky

together with you

君は新たなる愛 古の傷跡 褒め称う青さ

You are the renewed love

The ancient scars

The praised blueness

君は借り物の影 夢に観た頁にまた 光謀る兆まで

You are a borrowed shadow

Reappearing in the page of my dream

till there's a glorious omen

喪失さえ　誓い合う 微睡んだ七つの炎　覚えていて

Even loss is a pledge

Remember the seven slumbering flames

銀の縁駆け出して 舞い上がり祈れ 応えよ　此処に！

with a silver edge running away

Soar up and pray

Answer my call here and now !

(Emblem-Etanity)

勇め友よ　目覚めの刻は 鏡合わせのように 双翼のように

Courage my friend, the time of awakening is at hand

Matching like in a mirror

Clapping like a pair of wings

夜明け辿り　治めし願い 違えぬ紅玉を 君と双り永遠に

The dawn trace its arrival, as you wish for its reign

An umistakable ruby

With you for eternity

最後まで君の力となろう あの日のように隣に立つ日を 君が望むのなら

I will be your strengh until the very end

Until the day we stand together like that day

If this is what you wish

約束した　名を呼んで 駆け抜けた十二の光　覚えている？

As we promised, call for my name

Do you remember the 12 light running across ?

赤の記憶燃え上がり 解き放て吼えろ 再び　此処へ！

The red memory burning brigtly

Unleash and howl!

And again here we are !

(Emblem-Engage！)

繋げ炎　伝えよ愛を この旅路のように 此の紋章のように

Connect the flame, Convey your love

Like this journey did

Like this Emblem did

誓え絆　輝け夢よ 星空の先まで 君と二人共に 紡がれし記憶は 絆炎の紋章士

Swear upon our bound, shine on my dream

Until the end of the starry sky

Together with you

The Emblem of Flame spunning our memories

Commentary.

*The songs seems to be sang from Marth's pov and the ending seems to be an answer song to this one. The narrator is speaking to Alear/the player. The first verse refers to the Royals/their kingdom : the flower refering to Alfred/Firene, the black steel to Diamant/Brodia, the hot sand to Timerra/Solm, the snow to Ivy/Elusia. The 12 light refers to the Emblem, the part refering to the dawn/dusk and red memory are foreshadowing Alear's real identity. Both the first and final chorus are refering to the moment where Alear will become the Emblem of Connection (never gonna call them the Fire emblem). The second part of the song is dedicated to the story of the Fell Xenologue, still speaking to Alear, while refering to Nel's love for Altlear, her feelings for Alear and their Divine heritage. It also seems to be refering to the gradual evolution of Nel's feelings towards Alear : someone with the appearance of her love (the renewed love and borrowed shadown) her own suffering (the ancient scars) and how she came to view Alear as their own person (going from the praised blueness refering to Altlear and the umistakable ruby refering to Alear). The wings are refering to the 4 Winds whose JPN name is "4 Wings" . In the last part, Ryo read the word moushou as "Emblem" in the japanese version. Just like for the English version, the japanese version uses the "incantation" chant in the verse ie Celica "protective", Micaiah "heal", Lyn "blow across/sweep across"

[italoniponic]

I saw your post about some characters nobody had requested for the event yet. If it's possible, could I request and imagine with Malleus (he was one or the three you mentioned, right?), Azul, and Leona for something? I thought you said 3 characters was the limit, I apologize if I read that wrong. 🙇‍♀️

Can I request what those three would do if their crush / Y/N accidentally confessed somehow (like letting it slip that they liked them) and instead of facing the consequences of their actions, Y/N just freakin' bolts. Nobody has ever seen them move that fast before.

Thank you in advance, and I apologize if this doesn't make sense or I did it wrong.

𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲'𝐬 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

| Notes: ANON I LOVE YOU

The first request featuring Malleus at last! lmao Okay so, since I made something similar with Ace, Cater and Kalim but because there’s other characters this time, I made a twist (yeah, that’s the joke). If you don’t mind, I wrote this in a more funny way. At least it have a complete ending lol

And Diasomnia stans, pls ask me more for Malleus and Silver, I beg you! 

Thanks for the request <3 |

Malleus Draconia, Azul Ashengrotto, Leona Kingscholar x g!n reader who runs really fast / headcanons / fluff & comedy / use of “you” pronouns

Cherry's Harvesting event 🍒 Masterlist

My Baby Runs Like the Wind

“People may not understand why I love you, but...!,” you interrupted yourself halfway through, missing the point you wanted to get to. You simply wanted to assure Malleus that someone in the world really liked him, but your deepest feelings just revealed themselves unexpectedly;

Malleus stopped for a moment and stared deeply at you. In any other situation, he might have let that jumble of words go through his head without noticing anything special. But, it seemed that in this very specific momento he understood what you meant. Malleus’ eyes shone bright, he could feel his own heart beating fast;

Nothing that you could repair for a long time because you jumped up and ran out of there like lightning. Malleus was startled by your speed. He was always amazed at how fast humans could run even though they weren't as skilled as fairies and you seemed to almost disappear into thin air;

But... why did you run away?! Malleus shook his head, pulling himself together. Usually people would run away from him without saying anything or after being rude so they wouldn't suffer the consequences, but you said something good and genuine. You declared your love for him!;

You may have even thought that simply running from your problems was the best of solutions, but when little green lights surrounded you and suddenly, Malleus transported himself in front of you, you realized how wrong you were. You were in the middle of the hallway and the only way out was the side courtyard. Not understanding that you were still in auto-escape mode, Malleus reached out to you to lead you there;

You didn't know what to do. Your head was spinning, confused by the attitudes of your good friend Tsunotaro. Maybe he wanted to reject you more formally? Or perhaps did he not understand what you said and was apprehensive about your escape? You didn't want him to think that way. You weren't running away from him... well, you were, but for another reason;

One way or another, you walked together through the garden and silence was everywhere. Little birds used to avoid Malleus, fearing his draconic aura. In contrast, more crows approached you although they remained courteous in respecting your silence through the way;

You were so restless that Malleus didn't know what to do to help you. He remembered a book that Lilia borrowed for him a few weeks ago, an unusual literature in their land called “teenage romance”. You seemed to be in a very similar situation of misunderstanding between your true feelings;

“Child of Man, do you love me?,” Malleus asked you directly. It took you by surprise and you stared into his glorious jade eyes, expectant for an answer. Your heart started to beat harder and you almost wanted to run from there again;

But you remained and, unable to answer with words, you took Malleus's hand and squeezed it tightly. You nodded, plucking up the courage to face whatever his response to your feelings was. You felt like a knight facing a dragon. However, as admirable as your courage was, there was nothing to worry about;

“Oh, precious joy!,” surprising you again, Malleus gave you a huge smile. You were able to perfectly see his immaculate fangs. “My heart rejoices to hear this. You know why, dear? For I love you as well.” It was like waking up from a nightmare of uncertainties to the reality of sweet life. You were so happy with his response that you threw yourself on top of Malleus to hug him and you both fell off the bench. His good laugh ended up scaring the crows away.

“Loving you is insane, honestly,” you blurted out unintentionally after listening to Azul talk about his favorite coin collection for fifteen minutes. It was accidental, with no prior intention, completely unprepared. The favorite kind of information that Azul would like to receive. But this one caught even him by surprise;

For a long time, there was no noise other than the movement of the fish in the aquarium of Octavinelle's communal room. The little ladder of coins that Azul was making fell but he didn't take his eyes off you. He felt like he heard you wrong. Yeah, maybe that's it. But your face was flustered and this was an indicative counter;

So, for better or worse, you just bolted from there. You ran away so fast you almost ran over the Leech twins in the process. Floyd even joked about changing your name to “Black Marlin” — a fast fish he had bet on racing once in the Coral Sea. But when they turned around to Azul, his coins were already collected from the table and he went after you;

Azul would have asked Jade or Floyd to help ambush you because they were a little faster but, if you had said what he thought you said, he didn't want to involve the Twins unnecessarily in this situation. Things are hard enough without them laughing and teasing him;

Unluckily for Azul, you were on a good day and your run was fast. So fast that he couldn’t get close to you even without the lack of obstacles outside Octavinelle’s main building. He saw you beam out of the dorm and cursed under his breath. If you arrived in the halls of Night Raven College, it would take a lifetime to find you. As if he would give up so easily…;

Meanwhile, on your side of the ship’s bow, you arrived at the Hall of Mirrors and took a moment to catch your breath. You weren't sure if Azul was actually following you but there was a lot of adrenaline running through your veins at the moment;

You couldn't believe what had happened. You confessed yourself to Azul like that! Don’t you think about your own well-being? What if Azul didn't like you the same way? Now he could use that little slip for his own benefit. Well, the real truth was that you wouldn't want to know if Azul was going to reject you and you hoped he just hadn't heard anything;

“Ah, there you are... if you really loved me, you wouldn't make me run so much,” Azul's voice sounded in the hall and you took a fright, especially since he almost collapsed on the floor from exhaustion. You were about to run away again but the worry made you put your feet in place like an anchor;

You went over to Azul, who was leaning against the wall to rest, and when you made mention of touching him, he held up your hand. If you two were at sea, this action would be much more effective with his tentacles, but his grip was strong enough to hold you there without necessarily hurting you. He just didn't want you to run away again;

Nicely, he convinced you to repeat what you said before and without much else to run to, you could only finish confessing your love properly to him. When you finished and looked at Azul in the eyes, he looked weak again, his face was on fire and his heart beating just thinking how much you love him with such devotion and affection;

He almost cried. Almost. He wouldn’t weaken so much in front of you at that moment. Azul took a deep breath, adjusted his glasses, and said, “I suppose I should also confess something. I love you, too.” This statement alone was able to make you jump in Azul and hug him with all your might. Not that he complains much when he thinks about it.

“You are sometimes lucky that I love you, idiot...,” you were about to try to strangle Leona when you noticed what you said. It was already a very complicated situation. You were forced by Crewel to hunt down Leona and demand to him to do a homework he should have turned in yesterday but apparently didn't, culminating in you finding him sleeping in the Botanical Garden;

Trying to wake up a lion here, vain attempts to drag him out there, you were at the limit of your patience. And, by the way, from your own guard because that phrase escaped more naturally than you would like. Because nothing couldn’t get worse, that actually made Leona wake up. He was semi-sleeping these last fifteen minutes but hearing that you love him gave that special snap;

You exchanged a look for a moment, one more surprised than the other. You only noticed at that moment that you were practically on top of him. And like a prey that has noticed the awakening of its predator, you ran out of there as fast as you could. Leona remembered the antelopes of his land, running like the wind;

He only needed a moment to pull himself together and stretch out, not considering that running after you would be a problem. So... you loved him, huh? How cute, he chuckled to himself. But it was so meaningful and good to hear, something that Leona would hardly admit out loud to you. And to think that you have reached this stage;

Meanwhile, you still ran like a wild beast through the fields of Night Raven College, not knowing exactly where you were going. You were worried about what to do from there. How could you face Leona again? Would he let it pass like it was nothing? No one would know?;

You stopped suddenly, thinking better of it. Was that the conclusion you wanted? Well, that might be better than a rejection, but it would be just as sad. You sighed, tired. It was quite a race and you were sure Leona didn't move a muscle to follow you;

Bam! That's when you felt a little bump in your head and there was Leona behind you, yawning as if finding out your position from your trail had been nothing. He had that sassy look in his eyes, relaxed, really treating the situation like it was nothing. So handsome and gallant that you felt like you could fight him and kiss him at the same time;

This thought knotted your stomach and made your blood run faster. You turned around, ready to do the same thing when Leona held you by the collar of your shirt, preventing your escape in any direction. Now that you were face to face, it was time to talk seriously;

“Herbivore, do you love me?,” Leona asked. Despite his stance, you didn't find anything that represented hostility in that question. Which, again, was good and bad at the same time. Worse for your heart was finding out that Leona didn't care about you at all. But since you were there — and you couldn't even get away anyway — you had to admit it;

You hadn't realized because you were looking down but Leona's expression changed many times as he listened to you declare your heart to him. It was such touching words and to think that you almost ran away from him because of shame and fear only made him feel stranger, like he never felt before;

“I'm in love with you too... either that or you give me a lot of headache for no apparent reason,” Leona confessed. You were surprised but, out of habit, you gave him a light punch on the shoulder. Not that he cared. Behind you, the sun was coming down magnificently and you almost wanted to run again. Not to escape but to announce to the four winds that Leona Kingscholar loved you too.

| Special Notes:  Lilia gave Malleus a bunch of shojo manga, that’s the only truth I know. |

[rainy-bangbeom]

The BFB - Part One (m)

“May I introduce ‘The Best Friends with Benefits’ contract, or The BFB for short…”

“The BFB? You’re kidding me, right?…”

“Nah, baby—I’m dead FUCKING serious… get it?”

pairing(s): Fuckboy!Minho x Best Friend!Fem!Reader

genre: Best Friends to FWBs!AU, College!AU, slight Angst, Smut

warnings: Mature language, alcohol consumption, mentions of drug use, heavy talks of sex and other lewd subjects, explicit and graphic sexual content (18+), protected sex (please remember to always practice safe and protected sex), riding, LOTS of teasing (Minhoe’s speciality everyone), slight power dynamics, dry humping, nicknames (kitten, baby), dirty talk, very slight degradation (R is called a slut once), slight marking, both R and Min are pretty desperate ngl

word count: 6,6k

synopsis: You and Minho have been best friends since the moment you were practically born but when a party gone wrong ends with an arrangement that complicates the boundaries of friendship, you have to decide whether your relationship is merely one of friends or something more.

previous // next

From the moment you stepped foot on your college campus, you’ve only ever had two goals in mind. First—graduate (obviously), and second—sleep with the hottest, sexiest, most delicious hunk of man to ever graze the earth: Seo Changbin. Now fortunately, you’re on the brink of entering your last semester before commencement, so you have to be doing something right there. But as for banging the yummy quarterback who pretty much everyone with eyes is convinced is half-god… no such luck in that department.

It’s not as if you haven’t tried. You’ve spoken to Changbin a total of three times in the last four years—THREE WHOLE TIMES! The first instance happened in your digital imaging course during the first semester of your sophomore year. You sat a row behind him, and though your final grade probably suffered because of the fact, you spent many delightful lectures admiring the glorious sight of the back of his neck. One day before your professor arrived, Changbin turned around to ask if he could borrow a pencil, which, of course, you acquiesced. He never returned it, but it’s still a step in the right direction.

Your second and third meetings occurred under similar circumstances. During sociology in your junior year, he asked to borrow your textbook to jot down some notes, and you spent the remainder of the time wondering if it’s possible to clone a person with fingerprints and dead skin cells alone. And only a couple months later, you were paired in the same class to work on some boring discussion questions together. Mind you, Changbin wasn’t exactly a hands-on partner—pretty much utilizing the entire period to converse with a couple of sorority sisters—but hey, beggars can’t be choosers when it comes to Mr. Yummy-bin. 

“Please tell me you don’t actually refer to Changbin as Mr. Yummy-bin…” You return to reality at Seungmin’s voice, turning just in time to watch your roommate undergo a series of overdramatic gags. 

You roll your eyes. “Says the guy who calls his boyfriend Hung-jin.” 

“Can’t help my man’s got a big dick.” He shrugs, inhaling another big bite of his sandwich before sending you a pointed glance. “You know, I’m all for women empowerment and spreading those pussy juices because fuck the whole societal hoax of female purity and shit… but are you sure you want to sleep with Changbin of all people? I mean, the guy’s more of a fuckboy than Minho, and that’s saying something.” 

“Half the girls in this school all claim they’ve sucked their star quarterback off behind the bleachers at opening game. Just because someone says it, doesn’t necessarily mean it’s true.”     

“I don’t know, (Y/N)—wouldn’t you rather go for the linebacker, Chan?” Seungmin offers. “He’s no quarterback, but I heard from a reliable source his arms aren’t the only part of his body that’s the size of a tank…” 

Similar to Changbin, you’ve only spoken to Chan a handful of times. He seems like a nice guy, and he’s attractive as all hell, but the thought of fucking him just doesn’t click right—and nothing against Chan, but your va-jay-jay doesn’t get as excited at the thought of his head between your thighs.  

“If I’m spreading my pussy juices to anyone, it’s gonna be Mr. Yummy-bin.” 

Seungmin groans once again, but makes no further attempt to dissuade your decision. He instead retires to the remainder of his lunch, allowing you to do the same. 

You and Seungmin met in your history of photography class back in freshman year. For the first few months, you two had a little frenemies feud going on since you were dating his current boyfriend, Hyunjin at the time. The relationship barely lasted two weeks, especially so when you found out Hyunjin was only using you as a cover to hide his true sexuality from his family, but you, along with Seungmin, have remained good friends throughout your college years, going as far as renting a nice apartment just outside campus before the start of junior year. Sure, you have to flee to Minho's dorm when the love birds decide to get a little freaky, but it beats living in a shoebox. 

Speaking of the devil, you notice the devil himself sprinting toward your and Seungmin’s table. Judging by his direction and the stack of books in his arms, he likely came straight from his classic literature class, which, if you know your best friend (and you definitely do), indicates he has some piping hot tea to spill. 

“Yeonjun’s hosting an exclusive holiday party this Friday night at the fraternity house.” Minho struggles through puffs and pants, practically throwing his Austen collection into your ketchup while lowering into the seat beside you. “Apparently he paid campus security to look the other way for the night, so everyone’s gonna get absolutely shit-faced… we’re going, right?”

“Hard pass,” Seungmin grumbles with an expression of disgust. “The last time I went to a frat party, someone slipped something into my drink and I woke up on the roof completely naked and covered in honey and feathers.” 

Minho shrugs before turning to you with pleading, hopeful eyes. 

You raise an eyebrow. “Even if I say no, you’re still gonna go anyway.” 

“Yeah, but it’s more fun to know my best friend has my back if I accidentally knock myself out while playing pool.” 

“You act as if that never happened before?” Your head throbs at the memory of Minho clubbing himself over the head with a pool cue during Halloween of sophomore year. With the help of one of his friends, Jisung, you managed to transport him back to his building only to find out the idiot had bet his dorm key in a game of strip poker. Therefore, you, by yourself, had to haul Minho to your own dorm as inconspicuously as possible, which is not easy considering your best friend has a tendency to belt out ‘Into the Unknown’ when under the influence.

“Pretty, pretty please?” You groan at the pout that adorns Minho’s face, cursing the universe for blessing the man with a pair of puppy dog eyes that can move a Buddhist monk. 

“Fine.” Minho immediately cheers in celebration when the answer leaves your lips. “On the condition you avoid any dumb injuries. I really do not want to be driving your ass to the hospital at one in the morning.” 

“Swear on my life I’ll be a saint,” he promises, wrapping his pinky around your already outstretched one. To prove his commitment, Minho goes the extra step to lift your conjoined hands to his lips and press a brief peck to your knuckles. “Besides, this gives you a perfect opportunity to jump Mr. Yummy-bin’s bones.” 

“Holy shit—you’re so right,” you gasp, already beginning to ponder your look for this Friday. “Should I go for slutty with some class? Or just full-on hooker?”  

After swallowing the remainder of his sandwich, Seungmin shakes his head. “I have nothing to say in this matter.”

 “Wear that black lace off-the-shoulder dress and heels,” Minho says. “You can thank me after you get the best fuck of your life.” 

For once, you can’t help but be grateful for Minho’s barely functioning brain, already anticipating the party, and getting dicked down by the one and only Seo Changbin. 

There’s a saying that if a friendship lasts more than seven years, it will last a lifetime—if that’s true, then you and Lee Minho are in this shit for a millennium. 

Your moms were best friends throughout college and moved within a two-minute walking distance of each other after graduation, so your fates were pretty much set in stone the moment you entered this earthly plane. You’ve seen each other through it all—diapers and onesies three sizes too big, training bras and bad acne, that one goth identity crisis both of you agreed to erase from your brains—so it only makes sense you two became as close as two souls sworn to secrecy can be. 

Of course, at times Minho can be a little shit, and you want nothing more than to kick him where the sun doesn’t shine, but you’d take a bullet for him in a heartbeat, and while Minho may not be the cuddliest person on the plant, you know he wouldn’t hesitate to suck someone’s dick just to keep you safe (true story, don’t ask…). 

With a friendship that’s lasted as long as yours, you and Minho have also undergone your fair share of firsts together. After taking a baseball straight to the face, he was there to admire your first lost baby tooth in all its bloody glory, and you, in turn, were there to carry him, with his knee facing the total opposite direction, to the nurse’s office after a nice spill off of the playground jungle gym. He’s been there to console you through failed tests, brutal break-ups, and everything in between… 

Minho’s really been there through it all. 

You move your attention away from nostalgic thoughts, instead focusing on the shamelessly flirting pair in the front seat of the car. After much convincing (more so threatening) from your end, you managed to persuade Seungmin to attend the party with his boyfriend. Though right now, you don’t know whether to feel disgusted by their shamelessness, elated at their romantic antics, or fearful for your life, seeing as Hyunjin has not looked at the road once in the past two minutes. 

“I swear, if we die just because you fuckers can’t go one second without making goo-goo eyes at each other…” Like always, Minho seems to take the words right from your mind, glaring at your partnered companions with a glare sharp enough to cut ice. 

“I mean, can you really blame me?” Seungmin hums, feeling up Hyunjin’s bare arm for the millionth time in the past hour. “If you guys weren’t here, I’d be rolling all over that backseat by now.” 

“Let’s not share everything with the class now,” you hurriedly intercept. “Hyunjin—can you at least try not to kill your friends before we reach the party? I’d like to actually suck Changbin’s dick in this lifetime and not as Casper the ghost.” 

“I’d totally watch that shit—I wonder if there’s such thing as ghost porn…?” 

A noise of protest emerges from Seungmin before he lurches forward to turn up the radio, effectively drowning out Minho’s curiosity toward supernatural kinks. Being his seatmate, you’re not so lucky to avoid his research on vampires and period sex. Fortunately, Hyunjin maintains a somewhat steady speed limit and manages to reach the party in record timing. 

You practically throw yourself out of the vehicle before your best friend can go more in-depth about werewolf mating. Seungmin is quick to follow, along with Hyunjin, and finally, Minho.  

Unsurprisingly, the fraternity house is abuzz with celebration. Muffled club music seeps past its walls, the heavy bass and percussion ricocheting through your bones like a tidal wave. Countless people line the lawn, which is already littered with enough plastic cups and beer cans to fill a convenience store, while crowd after crowd continues to pile past the front door. You can almost feel the heat radiating from inside bleeding into your skin. 

“Alright, everyone remember the rules? If you go home with someone tonight, you have to text the group chat.” Seungmin shoots a pointed glare at Minho. “And that doesn’t mean sending any explicit pictures of your nasty ass penis in some chick’s mouth, understand?” 

Minho pouts. “We all make mistakes in the heat of passion, Jimbo.” 

“Just make good decisions—or at least ones that keep you out of jail and STD-free.” You nod when he glances in your direction, silently promising to protect your safety above all else. Satisfied with your response, you watch Seungmin take his boyfriend’s hand and lead him toward the bustling house—no doubt in pursuit of an empty bedroom to finish what was started in the car. 

“So… when do you want to commence operation Bang Mr. Yummy-bin?” 

“After I get a couple shots in my system,” you respond, already dragging your best friend in the direction of the front door. Despite the excitement coursing through your veins, you can’t help but notice the butterflies violently fluttering in your stomach. You pause in front of a couple grinding against the entryway, debating whether or not to kick off your four-inch heels and run for the hills. Minho must sense your distress, reaching forward to comfortingly pat your shoulder. 

“Hey, you got this,” he hums. “Not only do you look hot as fuck, but Changbin’s a lucky dude—I’ve seen what that mouth do.” 

“Does your vocabulary consist of anything besides the urban dictionary?” 

He smirks. “I’ve known to dabble in my fair share of overly creepy pick-up lines from time to time.” 

You sigh in annoyance, bumping your shoulder against Minho’s chest. 

“I’m serious... What if I make a complete and total fool of myself?” 

“Then you make a complete and total fool of yourself.” He shrugs. “But if Changbin’s head is too far up his own ass to not see past that, then he’s missing out on the best moment of his life with a drop-dead gorgeous woman who’s way out of his league.”

Your heart warms at your best friend’s reassurance. 

“Thanks, Min. I really appreciate that.” 

“Yeah, yeah—now c’mon.” You barely have a chance to catch your balance before Minho is yanking you toward the house, nearly avoiding falling face-first into the dirt. “Let’s get you buzzed for the best dicking down of your life—by the way, if you see Ryujin around, proceed to avoid like the plague.” 

“Let me guess—a one-hit-wonder?” 

Minho smiles. “(Y/N) (L/N), you know me so well.” 

True to his word, Minho shoved three shots of tequila and a cup of jungle juice down your throat before scampering off to, as he put it, make his rounds—but you know well enough that he’s probably making out with some random freshman he fished from the crowd. And while you can normally care less about your best friend’s promiscuous escapades, it pisses you off that the fucker is probably getting more action than you are right now.  

For the last two hours, you’ve been looking for a moment to steal Changbin’s attention, but it’s as if the universe doesn’t want you to get lucky tonight. When he’s not surrounded by a myriad of desperate cheerleaders, he’s conversing with one of his teammates or chatting up some chick with tits the size of watermelons. It’s like revolving doors in a nightclub—except its VIP membership only to get a piece of Mr. Yummy-bin. 

After the eleventh girl, you finally threw in the towel and retreated to the safety of the kitchen. Mind you, it reeks of pot and cheap alcohol, but it’s much better than watching some blonde bimbo rubbing her ass all over Changbin’s dick. You sigh as you pour yourself another serving of jungle juice, hoping to drown away your sorrows of going another night high and dry. Just as you’re about to commence your pity party, some asshole collides into you from behind and spills your drink all over the front of your dress. 

“You mother fu—Ch-Changbin!?” Your intentions of giving the culprit a piece of your mind totally vanish when you discover the same man you’ve been attempting to converse with since the first day of freshman year. His lightly tanned skin is shiny and tinted pink from sweat and alcohol and his jet black hair is a tousled mess, but his biceps are bare, big, and proud in the sleeveless white tee that leaves nothing safe from your greedy eyes. 

“Oh hey, it’s… (Y/N), right?” You almost forget how to breathe when he slurs out your name, needing to grab the counter behind you to avoid collapsing to the floor in a heap. “We were partners once in chemistry?” 

“Sociology, actually,” you correct with the largest grin, totally forgetting about your now drenched, alcohol-reeking dress. 

“Ah right. They all just kind of blend together after a while.” He chuckles, swiping a strand of hair from his sweaty forehead. “Anyway, how come you’re hiding out in here? Not enjoying the party or something?” 

“What? Oh no—nothing like that,” you quickly deny his observation with an awkward laugh. “Actually, I’ve been looking for an opportunity to talk to you.” 

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” 

You hum, “Well, I find you very, very attractive, and I was just wondering if you’d like to—” 

“Binnie! There you are!” 

You watch in horror as a girl from your world history class pops out from literally nowhere and tackles Changbin in a heated liplock that’s more tongue than anything. After a good thirty seconds of swapping saliva, she retreats backward to pout childishly. “It’s not nice to keep a girl waiting, you know?” 

“Sorry, babe. Got distracted.” Changbin smirks before leaning down to nibble at her collarbone. “Let me make it up to you, yeah?” 

And just like that, the couple begin to make out right there against the refrigerator, leaving you forgotten—again. Not wanting to put yourself through anymore torture, you grab the nearest unopened bottle of vodka and make a mad dash for the upstairs, praying you’ll find a room free of anymore horny bitches trying to suck each other’s faces off—or worse. 

Fortunately, after multiple traumatic attempts, you managed to snag an unoccupied bedroom to freely drown your sorrows. Unfortunately, the vodka you grabbed was severely watered down, so the alcohol contributed minimal cessation to the hurricane of insecure thoughts raging through your brain. You had various debates with yourself about just calling an Uber and sulking underneath the covers of your own bed for the rest of the night, but the possibility of spotting Changbin and his lady friend getting it on against the front door is enough to confine you to the springy mattress. 

You begrudgingly take another useless swing  before leaning back into the messy mountain of sandpaper sheets and crusty pillows. You try not to think about the previous activities committed on this bed, instead focusing on the vibrations coursing through your limbs—courtesy of the music blaring from downstairs. If you were anywhere else, you might actually find the sensation pleasurable, but it only serves as a reminder of your pathetic, lonely state. 

The shuffling of nearby footsteps and obnoxious giggles tears you from your pitiful headspace. Before you can announce your presence to the obviously oblivious couple, the door bursts open, revealing none other than your best friend practically chomping the neck of some sophomore from your nature photography class. You roll your eyes as the pair fail to notice your presence, tossing your now half-filled bottle onto a nightstand with a dramatic huff. 

“Careful, Min, or there’ll be none of her left to shove your dick into.” 

Minho pulls away from his nightly catch with wide-eyes, gaping at your lounging position. His expression shifts from confusion, to concern, before finally settling on what seems to reflect annoyance. 

“Please tell me you’re in here because you’re recovering from Mr. Yummy-Bin’s monster cock—or I swear to god I will beat your ass.” 

You nod to your abandoned vodka. “Take a wild guess.”

“What happened to the plan? Get in, get buzzed, and then get fucked?”

“Yeah, well, apparently other people also had the same plan,” you grumble, “I was just one of the unlucky few who isn’t blonde, busty, or bootylicious.” 

Minho pinches the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “For fucksake (Y/N)...”   

“I’m sorry to interrupt—but who the fuck is she and why is her pathetic meltdown interrupting my opportunity of getting laid!?” Minho’s companion whines, her high-pitched tone only increasing the pounding of your head. 

You roll your eyes. “You always know how to pick the bitchiest out of the bunch, Min.” 

“Excuse me!? Who the fuck do you think you are, you ugly slut!?” 

“She’s my best friend—a bit dramatic, but hardly ugly or a slut.” Minho wrenches away from her with a sneer, nodding his head toward the door. “You, however, are as revolting as they come so get lost before I contract whatever parasite crawled up your ass.” 

“Fuck you, Lee Minho! And fuck you too whatever your name is! I’m out of here!” 

You watch in both amusement and disgust as Minho practically slams the door after the delightful sophomore stomps away, probably to resume her quest for copulation elsewhere. 

“You didn’t have to be so mean, you know,” you hum, ignoring your best friend’s glare and leaning further back into the pillows. 

He shakes his head. “Nobody talks to you like that, and don’t try to change the subject. What really happened tonight? No more bullshit excuses either.” 

“Long story short, I had him in my sights and we were having a lovely conversation until some girl with pretty brown eyes and enough ass to cover the continent of Antarctica sunk her teeth into him first—literally.” You shiver at the vulgar memory, breathing what has to be your millionth sigh of the night. “Regardless, he barely even looked at me, Min. I think it’s a lost cause… I’m nothing compared to those girls—”

“Hey, don’t say that,” Minho hurriedly disagrees, laying a comforting hand atop your knee. “Like I said earlier, Changbin’s an idiot for choosing a bunch of losers over the most amazing woman he’ll ever meet. Don’t break yourself down over some asshole who can’t think without his dick.” 

You raise an eyebrow. “Isn’t that kind of hypocritical considering just two minutes ago you were swapping saliva with some stranger whose name you don’t know?” 

“What the—please tell me that’s not the only thing you took from what I just said?” 

“It doesn’t matter anymore anyway,” you say, reluctantly rising from the bed to head for the door—more than ready to retire to the comforts of your own apartment. “I’ve accepted the fact that the hottest man in existence will never want to fuck me, so why bother dwelling on it any longer?” 

“(Y/N), come on—”

“Just leave it alone, Minho. I’m going home where I’ll give myself yet another lackluster orgasm with a four-year old vibrator that can’t even reach—” 

With your hand mere centimeters away from the doorknob, your desired escape is interrupted when you’re suddenly spun around and practically shoved against the door. A warm hand silences your rant by covering your mouth, belonging to none other than your less-than-amused best friend. 

“Will you please shut the fuck up for a goddamn second? I’m trying to play my role of the supportive friend, but you’re getting on my fucking nerves.” 

You make sure to mouth a deserving insult against his palm, earning a sigh and an eye roll combination from your captor. After another minute or two, you start to notice exactly how close your bodies are—you can almost feel his hips pressing against your own—and while you’re not unused to Minho’s touch, something about this particular position sparks a marathon of butterflies to flutter through your stomach. 

Minho finally removes his hand after another long period of silence, laying his palm against the door beside your head. “Look—I’m sorry tonight didn’t go as planned, but have you ever considered the fact that this stupid obsession is hindering other opportunities for you to let loose and have fun?” 

  “And what the hell is that supposed to mean?” you hiss. 

“All I’m saying is I think you need to get laid by someone who is not necessarily Changbin—I mean, think about it, when was the last time you actually had sex? And don’t say that date with Felix because you and I both know heavy petting doesn’t cut it,” he huffs sternly. 

You raise an eyebrow. “Why do you suddenly care so much about my sex life?”

“Because I’m fucking sick and tired of seeing you mope around like some lovesick teenager! You need to get over Changbin, and I’m prepared to offer a solution…” 

“Which is…?” 

Complete disbelief spills through your body as Minho points between you and him. 

“Absolutely fucking not!” 

He shakes his head. “Why not? You’re going through a dry spell, I’m always horny—it’s the perfect answer to both of our problems.” 

“Did it completely slip your brain that you and I have been friends since—I don’t know—our entire fucking lives!” Your panicked, borderline aggressive tone does little to curb the serious expression across your companion’s face, only further increasing the strange feeling in your stomach. “We can’t just… sleep together! It totally goes past all and any boundaries of friendship—!” 

“But you and I are best friends, so it’s completely different,” Minho argues. “As your best friend, it’s my sole responsibility to help you through the hardest times in life, therefore, I’m more than ready to help you move past your crush by offering forth my exceptional services in all things ‘holey’.” 

“For the sake of my sanity, please never say that ever again,” you groan, dragging a hand down your face. “While I appreciate your willingness to help, I still don’t think this is a good idea… especially after what happened last time—”

“(Y/N)”—your muscles tense when Minho suddenly moves closer, nudging one of his thick thighs between your legs while intensely staring into your eyes—“are you attracted to me?” 

“Well… yeah, I guess so.” 

His dark smirk sends tremors through your knees. “Good, ‘cause I think you're hot—and you wanna know a secret…?” You hold your breath as he leers closer, allowing you to better see the firework show of lust flickering through his umber eyes. “I wanna fuck you right here against this door and listen to your pretty little whimpers and whines, knowing anyone at any second could walk by and hear what a good little slut you are for my cock…” 

Holy shit. 

The wave of wetness that pools between your thighs immediately soaks your underwear. It takes every bit of your lingering self control to not hump your best friend’s thigh like a horny rabbit. Even so, you find it more and more difficult to repress your dirty desires as Minho trails a hand up your leg, pausing to lift and wrap your knee around his hips. You nearly moan at the new position, pinpointing what seems to be his prominent erection pushing against your pelvis. 

“Minho…” 

“Just think about it,” he murmurs. “Changbin could walk through here at any given moment—I bet the second he heard you call my name, he’d realize what a brainless idiot he was for passing up this sweet cunt, hm? Tell me, baby—are you fucking soaked? Thinking about me fucking you while Changbin stands just behind this door, wanting what he can’t have?...” 

“Oh shit—” Your brain completely short circuits, unable to stop the desperate cant of your hips. Yours and his moans bleed into one another as your clothed cores come into contact. Minho’s fingers tighten on your leg—just shy of bruising. You wonder if he can feel the extent of your wetness against the front of his jeans, but all thoughts are chased away when you deliver yet another roll, expertly dragging your swelling folds over his crotch. 

“Fucking hell”—he hisses, his hand beside your head tightening into a fist—“I-I—hah—I’m not gonna l-last if you keep—mm—rutting against me like a kitten in heat…” 

His words only motivate your intentions, sharpening and angling your rocks so your clit consistently meets what you believe to be the head of his cock. Seeking more leverage,  you wind your arms around his waist and tug him even closer against your body. His face seeks refuge in the crook of your neck as you continue your assault, further fueled by the hot breath caressing your collarbones. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—I’m actually gonna c-cum—”

You silently agree with your companion, gasping loudly when his hips begin to match your rhythm. You both cling to one another as your climaxes approach one after another—Minho’s guttural groan triggering a release that spills white-hot bliss through your veins. You can feel your cunt pulsating as you fight to catch your breath, tiredly leaning your head back against the door. It’s not until you suddenly remember where you are, who you’re with, and what you’ve done that you awaken from your post-orgasmic stupor. 

“What… What did we just do?...” 

“Well, when a man and a woman love each other very much—”

You shove Minho arms length away with a newfound adrenaline, staring at his confused expression with enough shock to render your muscles numb. “H-How can you joke about this!? You just—I-I just—” 

“Made me cum in my pants like a fucking girl boss? That you did.” His wide eyes gradually recede, being replaced with a sexy smirk you’ve seen too many times before—the same smirk he displays when recounting his nightly conquest. “And I, as promised, gave you the orgasm of a lifetime—told you I was gifted.” 

The events that took place after your and Minho’s sinful exchange are blurry—likely a result of your light alcohol consumption and disbelief in your and your best friend’s previous actions—but you remember bits and pieces about an Uber ride back to your apartment with Minho blabbering on about some book he’s reading in his literature class. You couldn’t tell whether or not it was his attempt at pretending like nothing happened, or he simply couldn’t care less about what transpired just minutes before—as if dry humping his best friend of 22 years against a random bedroom door at a frat party is a daily occurrence. 

You’re not sure what’s more jarring—the fact that Minho is being so casual about everything, or the fact that, despite the inner turmoil hurtling through your mind, you enjoyed the experience. Minho wasn’t wrong when he confronted you about your lack of action. It’s been almost a year and a half since you’ve felt the intimate touch of another person, savored the joys of an orgasm brought by hands that aren’t your own. And while it could have been anyone in the moment, a part of you—the one that isn’t screaming red flags like a mad woman—is almost relieved it was Minho, the same Minho who wiped your tears when your first high school boyfriend cheated and held your hand at your first blood draw because he knows you don’t like needles. 

You can’t help but smile at the memory, remembering his poor attempt at distracting you by belting out the lyrics to the Phantom of the Opera in a key that couldn’t be more off. Underneath the vulgar language and rather alarming body count, the Minho you know and love would never do anything to hurt you. As he said at the party, he only wants to help you get over your stupid crush on Changbin. His intentions might not be that pure, per say, seeing as he’s a borderline sex addict, but you can look past that because he’s Minho—your closest and bestest friend. 

Which brings you to the now, agreeing to his arrangement after dragging him up to your apartment. 

“I still don’t think this is the best idea, but I’m willing to try.” 

“Hell yeah!” Minho celebrates as if he found out he just won the lottery. “I knew you’d come around—bet you’re too curious about the wonders of my dick to say no.” 

You hold up a finger. “If we’re gonna do this, there has to be rules, boundaries to make sure things don’t get complicated.”

“What did you have in mind?” 

“No cuddling, no kissing, and most definitely no feelings,” you say. “We can discuss personal likes and dislikes later, but these three things are totally off the table… fair?” 

“Everything will be strictly no strings attached—just two best friends helping each other burn off some steam.” You watch in confusion as Minho retreats further into your apartment, returning only minutes later with an old sketchbook he stole off your bookshelf. He quickly flips to a blank page and scribbles down a myriad of things before ripping out the paper to present it to you proudly. “May I introduce the Best Friends’ with Benefits contract, or the BFB for short.” 

“The BFB? You’re kidding me, right?” 

“Nah, baby—I’m dead fucking serious… get it?” 

“Oh my fucking god…” 

He smirks. “God, huh? I’m flattered, kitten, but let’s just stick with my name for now…” 

“Can you for one second stop acting like a goddamn condom ad and be serious!?” Your outburst surprises not only your companion, but yourself too. You attempt to collect your bearings, inhaling a deep breath to clear the tightness in your chest before continuing in a softer tone: “I just—this isn’t like your other hook-ups, okay? I can’t be one of those people you just fuck and throw away like a used condom—” 

“Woah, woah, hold on, (Y/N),” Minho interrupts, shaking his head in disbelief. “Do you really think that low of me? You’re my best friend, not some cheap hooker off the street—I would never do anything to hurt you.” 

You can’t help but look away from his almost pained gaze, shrugging your shoulders with a sigh. “Of course I know that. I just… don’t want to lose you.” 

“Hey.” You’re forced to meet Minho’s eyes when he gently takes your chin between two fingers and turns your head. His smile is small, but endearingly genuine. “Just two best friends helping each other out with no kissing, no cuddling, and no feelings—the BFB in itself.” 

“Still a stupid name,” you mumble, unable to curb the smile pulling at your own lips. “Are we supposed to sign away our consent on that piece of paper?” 

“Nah, that was just for dramatic flair. Consider it an unspoken promise between us.” 

You move to roll your eyes, but are pleasantly surprised when Minho takes a step forward, leaving only an inch of space between your faces. You’re reminded of your escapade back at the party, your body instantly growing warm at the memory of no doubt one of the best orgasms of your life. Goosebumps scatter across your bare skin as your companion takes your hand, delicately weaving your pinkies together before leaning down to press a long peck to the swell of your knuckles. You swear your body comes alive—slick already pooling into your underwear at his touch. 

“Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll stop, (Y/N).” Despite the arousal clouding your brain, you recognize Minho’s gentle tone—one you’ve only heard on a handful of occasions. Your heart can’t help but flutter at his consideration for your comfort—yet another reminder that he’ll always be there for you no matter what…

“Don’t stop, Minho,” you finally concede, winding your arms around his neck to tug him even closer. “I don’t want you to stop…”

The care in his gaze instantly melts into something dark—almost sinister. 

“Is that so? You better prepare for the best fuck of your life, kitten, ‘cause I’m not gonna stop until the only name you remember is mine…” 

“You talk a big game, Min,” you snicker, seductively gliding your hand down the front of his silk button-up to the waistband of his jeans. “Ever heard the saying that actions speak louder than words? Unless all of it is just that—talk?” 

You shiver at the malicious sneer that overtakes his face. 

“I’ve been with enough guys and girls to know it’s not just talk, now I suggest you head to your room before I take you right here on the floor.” 

Unable to respond, you follow his instruction and retreat to your bedroom with Minho following close behind. Once you reach your destination, Minho allows you a moment to remove your heels and plug in your phone. You reach behind your back, ready to escape the confines of your snug dress, but a second pair of hands halt your movements. 

Minho hums. “So fucking glad you wore this dress—allow me to remove it?” 

“Be my guest.” 

You’re surprised at how sensual Minho is, slowly trailing his hands up the length of your arms, over your shoulders, and down your back as if committing the curves of your body to memory. You’re breathless by the time he actually begins to unzip your dress, using his other hand to trace your naked spine as it becomes more and more exposed. The logical part of your mind knows he’s playing with you—having heard many, many recounts from previous victims of his sadistic delight to tease. 

Impatient and soaking through your underwear, you whirl around to shove Minho onto your bed. He lands with a gasp, annoyance crowding his features. You watch him open his mouth, likely to chastise your hastiness, but interrupt his motives by peeling the rest of the dress from your figure. His jaw drops at the sight of your favorite pair of black lingerie, emphasizing the very best parts of your body like a vice. 

“See something you like, Min?” 

“Shut the fuck up and get over here already,” he seethes.

“Someone’s a bit impatient,” you laugh. It’s evil, you know that very well, but you can’t deny how much you enjoy pushing your best friend’s buttons—even more so in a situation like this one. With a bite of your lip and a wink, you trail a single hand down your front between your breasts, pausing just above the band of your panties. “Make you a deal—I’ll show you mine if you show me yours?” 

“Never expected you to be a dirty fucking tease,” Minho sasses, but smirks in amusement and listens to your intended command nonetheless. You stare with hooded eyes as he removes his shirt, taking his sweet time to undo every single button and gradually reveal the caramel planes of his chest to your greedy gaze. Your knees nearly buckle as his bare biceps flex with every movement, complimenting the leanness of his form perfectly. You don’t even realize he’s also discarded his jeans until his husky tone reaches your ears: “You gonna stand there and gawk all night? Or are you gonna come over here and ride me into the sunset?” 

His suggestion is too good to pass up, which is why your feet frantically carry you to the bed where Minho’s thick thighs welcome your weight. He pulls you closer by the hips, dragging your still clothed cores against one another. You release a groan at the contact while Minho hisses, busying himself with tracing your collarbones with his tongue. You’re not sure where to put your hands, deciding to splay them behind you on his knees. 

“Do you—shit”—you almost choke when he nips at your decolletage—“do you have a c-condom?” 

“Back pocket,” he mumbles against your skin. 

In record time, you manage to fish the contraceptive from his discarded jeans and pull it over his already hard cock. Minho pumps himself once, twice, inhales a deep breath, then looks at you pointedly. “Y-You sure about this?”

“One hundred percent,” you say, dragging aside the seam of your panties without a second thought. Once again, Minho pulls you as close as possible against his chest, assisting you in your task of lining his bulbous head with your dripping entrance. Your body screams in absolute euphoria as he begins to breach your walls, stretching your core with a delicious ache  that you haven’t felt in months. You have to relax your mind, nearly cumming at the sensation, and focus on your ragged breathing instead. 

“Holy shit, you feel amazing—you okay?” 

“J-Just give me second,” you stutter. “It’s—hah—it’s been awhile.” 

“You’re in control here, baby,” Minho assures. “Move when it feels comfortable, hm?” 

“I might… I might cum…” 

“Just from my cock?” You curse the cocky smirk that spreads across your best friend’s face. “Go ahead, kitten, ‘cause I believe I promised you a night of endless pleasure—that’s only one of many…” 

...What did you get yourself into? 

My works are not to be reuploaded, modified, or translated anywhere besides this blog. If you see someone plagiarizing my work, please let me know right way. Otherwise, thank you for reading! Reblogs and feedback are always very much appreciated!

[tuiccim]

Almost Had Me Believing It - Part 4

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader    

Word Count: 1569

Warnings: Mutual pining, smut

Summary: An undercover operation playing Bucky Barnes’ wife is a dream come true. Playing house in the suburbs while trying to take down a drug ring brings you and Bucky closer but a nosy neighbor causes trouble in paradise.

A/N: Divider by @whimsicalrogers​

Almost Had Me Believing It Series Masterlist

A few days later you and Bucky sit at breakfast discussing how to get more information about Frank. 

“Well, we know one way I could get in his house but I’d rather chew glass.” You grouse.

“You, uh, you don’t find him attractive?” Bucky stutters.

“No. I mean, Frank’s a good looking guy, but he’s not a good person. He gives me the creeps, honestly.” You shudder. 

Bucky reins in his smile at hearing that. He hated the idea of you liking any other man. At some point while running through the meadow yesterday, he realized you weren’t afraid of him. He was chasing you and you had this glorious smile on your face. There was no fear or anxiety about you as he tackled you to the ground. You had laughed as he did it and held onto him during the ride as if you felt safe with him. It was nothing short of a miracle in Bucky’s eyes. Very few people in his life watched him approach them without some apprehension in their eyes or tension in their body and nobody looked to him as a refuge of safety but you had. He still didn’t think he deserved it but he was determined to be a safe place and friend to you. 

“He’s not like you.” You say the sentence, pulling Bucky out of his thoughts, while causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach. 

“Like me?” Bucky says in surprise. 

“You’re a good looking guy but you’re also good and sweet and kind. You want to help people, not destroy them, not hurt them. And you don’t give me the creeps.” You laugh lightly hoping to cover the emotions you feel towards the man in front of you. 

Bucky chuckles, “I’m glad I don’t give you the creeps.”

“Not at all.” You smile at him. 

“You’re a peach.” 

You smile at him and then the light bulb goes on over your head, “I have an idea.” You grab a large cup from the cabinet. 

“What are you doing?” Bucky asks. 

“Well, we are out of sugar.”

“No, we’re not. It’s right there on the counter.”

You take the container and dump it out in the trash, “Oops. As I was saying, we’re out of sugar. I’m gonna go borrow a cup from our neighbor.”

“How does that get us more information about him?”

“He’ll invite me in and I’ll plant a bug.” You say as you pull one of the devices out of your pocket.

“I’ll go with you.” Bucky says. 

“That’d look a little strange. Maybe he’ll let his guard down if I’m alone.”

“I don’t like you being alone with him.”

“I’ll be fine, Bucky. If I can take you to the mat I don't think I’ll have a problem with Frank.” You smirk at the supersoldier. Bucky gives you a nod and crosses his arms looking unhappy. “I’ll be back.” You say as you head for the door. 

Frank answers his front door within a couple of minutes and smiles, “Hey. What’s up?”

“I’ve come to beg a favor of a benevolent neighbor.” You repeat the phrase Frank had used a few days ago. 

Frank laughs, “Are you in need of coffee?”

“Sugar. I knocked the container over and lost it all on the floor. Do you have some to spare?” You keep your expression self-deprecating and sweet. 

“Of course. Come on in. I have all kinds of sugar you can have, gorgeous.” 

“I just need the white granulated kind,” you giggle as you slip past him into the house.

You follow Frank to the kitchen. He takes the cup from your hand and goes to the pantry to retrieve the sugar for you. Taking a quick assessment of the available real estate for a bug, you attach it to a space where you hope it can pick up sound in both the kitchen and living room. 

“So, I’ve actually been meaning to talk to you.” Frank says as he emerges. 

“Yeah?” 

“About a job.”

“Oh! Great. Where?” You ask. 

“Do you have any bookkeeping experience?” Frank asks. 

“Yes. I worked for a couple of small offices where I doubled as the office manager as well as nurse. I’m pretty decent at that kind of thing. Where’s the job?”

“Here.”

“What?” You look at him utterly confused. 

“You know I’m a landlord and I have several properties. I need someone to do billing, take the payments, handle utilities, deal with the tenant requests. The accounting side has never been my strong suit and I added three more properties in the past year. It would just be part-time. If you're interested…”

“Part-time is exactly what I’m looking for right now. Do you want me to bring you a resume?”

“I’ll take you at your word.” Frank winks. “Why don’t you come back after lunch and I’ll have everything together for us to look at?”

“Are you sure about this? I don’t want to take advantage of our friendship, Frank.”

“I’m sure, gorgeous.” Frank puts an arm around your shoulders as he walks you to the door. “I’ll see you this afternoon, right?”

“Okay. Thanks, Frank.” You smile as you head back to your house. You find Bucky in the office messing with the receiver. “Is it working?”

“As soon as you attached it, I could hear everything. A job offer, huh?” Bucky raises an eyebrow. 

“Yeah. A lot of access that way.” You smile. 

“A lot of time alone with you.” Bucky grouses. 

“I’ll be okay, Bucky. This is good.” 

--

You had spent the afternoon with Frank going over everything with him touching you nearly constantly. Your skin crawled but you managed to play him off. His books really were a mess and you arranged to work with him for the next few afternoons to get things in order. This would afford you the opportunity to plant more bugs. Hopefully, this would also help you gain Frank’s trust and get him to eventually reveal his not so legal dealings. Bucky was unhappy with your report of the afternoon. He did not like you spending so much time alone with Frank. 

“Come here, Doll.” Bucky beckons to you from the living room.

“What’s up?” You ask. 

Bucky puts his arms around you and his hands grab your ass, “Jump.”

You wrap your arms around Bucky’s neck and jump wrapping your legs around him. Bucky presses you against the wall and you whisper, “Frank watching us?”

“Yup.” Bucky says as he presses his lips to the side of your neck. You arch your neck to give him better access. “Thought he might need another show. Don’t want him getting any ideas that you working for him is gonna get him anywhere.”

“I appreciate that.” You are desperately trying to hold in your moans as Bucky kisses your neck and your hands grasp his hair. Giving in to your own impulse, you pull his head back and meet his lips with your own. Bucky melds his mouth to yours and you feel his hands flex their grasp on your ass. His tongue slides into your mouth and the moan you had been holding in slips out. Your hips shift of their own accord and you can feel Bucky’s erection pressed against you. Bucky pushes away from the wall and carries you down the hallway. He pulls his lips away from yours and gently lowers you to the floor outside your room.

“You okay?” He asks.

“Yeah, you?” 

“Yeah.” He looks at you for a moment. “I hope you didn’t mind. I know I was touching-”

“Bucky. It’s fine. You’re just trying to keep Frank off me. I appreciate that. Plus, you're my husband, right?” You smile. 

“Yeah. I just, I don’t want to take advantage of the situation.” Bucky says. 

“I know you wouldn’t do that, Bucky. Don’t worry, okay? Good night.” You hug him around his torso and scurry into your room. 

Bucky retreats to his room and flops down on the bed. You had reassured him that you knew he wouldn’t take advantage, but that’s exactly what he was doing. He saw an opportunity to touch you again and he couldn’t pass it up. You had felt and tasted just as sweet as the first time he’d touched you a few nights ago. You were the one who’d kissed him though. For a minute, he allowed himself to indulge in the thought that you had wanted it, that you had enjoyed it. That your moan had been real. The kiss had been real. The way you rolled your hips against him was because you wanted him, too. 

Bucky’s hand moved of their own volition and pushed down his sweats. His cock was painfully hard and he had to relieve the pressure. Fisting himself he remembers your sweet whimpers when he had rutted against you the other night, the moans you released as the two of you kissed tonight, and he imagines his hand is you wrapped around him. He thinks of how wet you would be as he presses into you and the breathy little sounds you’d make as he bottomed out inside you. “Fuck.” Bucky whispers as he imagined your face scrunched up in ecstasy. His hand speeds up as he pictures you riding him and he bucks up into his hand. “Fuck.” he whispers one more time as he comes all over his stomach.

Part 5

Masterlist

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[jasontoddiefor]

a story I will never write: in which Anakin Skywalker asks Obi-Wan to kill him (and he does)

So the plot of ROTS goes down more or less the same, but there’s no battle on Mustafar, and in the ensuing years, Darth Vader, the Emperor's attack dog, causes terror throughout the Empire. And he's angry and hurting, and it was all never supposed to be like this, they were all meant to be together and if Obi-Wan had just listened.

He rages and rages and rages until, like all fires, he slowly starts to diminish.

He's tired and exhausted and nothing really matters. He sees his "Master" on the throne and Sidious’s not even really interested in the Empire he built on Vader's pain and regret. He just wants to rule, the power, but not the responsibility that comes with it.

(Padmé would have been a great Empress. Obi-Wan would have ruled a glorious Empire.)

And maybe, one day, Vader just snaps. He's had enough of Sidious, enough of fighting for a hollow cause. So he runs, flees, chases after a connection that is barely there, Obi-Wan having shut him out. Still, there’s enough of their bond alive enough that Vader can track it with his mind a calmer than it has been in years.

And track it he does to Tatooine.

He finds Obi-Wan in the dunes and thinks I've come to end this, I've come to be ended, take this life from me, Master, so that my death is yours as my life should have been. Vader has no intention to leave this planet again. He will be buried with his mother if Obi-Wan is still kind enough, still Jedi enough, to do so.

And when Obi-Wan does spot him, he reacts with panic, with fear. And it isn't so much the anger or anything Vader expected because Obi-Wan doesn't hesitate to ignite his lightsaber, taking a protective stance as behind him hides a child with sunkissed skin, hair so light it seems golden and curious blue eyes that once belonged to Anakin Skywalker.

("It seems, in your anger, you killed her" rings as another lie.)

And suddenly Vader can't. Whatever kept him together, kept him standing upright for even this supposedly last duel just crashes.

"I'm sorry," he wants to say, probably says out loud because that child has to be his and of course Obi-Wan kept watched, raised him, protected him from the monster Anakin had become, the threat that Sidious is still.

And Obi-Wan, in turn, doesn't really know what to do because he didn't expect that. This confusion carries on for weeks as Vader doesn't leave, but sticks around in the shadows, never quite saying a word after the first "What is his name?" to which the child responded with "I'm Luke, who're you?"

Weeks of silence, of Vader- Anakin- him simply lingering. "I want to fix this," is the next thing he says, Luke half-asleep across his lap, unaware of who the stranger is, only knowing that he should not reach out with his mind because his own childish one is too fragile, too kind and gentle for the horrors lingering in Anakin's.

"There is no fixing this," Obi-Wan will reply, tired and exhausted because he buried his Master, his friends, his family, and somewhere, in an attempt to deal with his grief and keep himself going so Luke wouldn't be alone, he buried his apprentice too.

Anakin Skywalker had died and Vader had risen from his ashes and now his fragile peace breaks and crashes as Vader is swallowed up by Anakin once more.

"I will kill him," Anakin, eyes still gold like an insult, vows. "I will kill Sidious."

"And what will you do then?" Obi-Wan might reply. "You can't dismantle an Empire you helped built. You will end up just the same."

And Anakin Skywalker has been dead for years already, and he has nothing left to give to his Master or his child, nothing but his borrowed time. "So kill me," Anakin says after. "The galaxy hates and fears Darth Vader. And you will come and end my reign of terror, and there will be peace once more."

Which is the worst thing he could ever demand of Obi-Wan, who, even standing among the slain bodies of his family, vowed that he would not kill Anakin.

But what choice is there left, really? Remain on Tatooine, playing house for an innocent child that had deserved so much better until Sidious found them?

Anakin takes his leave against Luke's protests (and no, he doesn't know, doesn't quite understand it yet as he's too young, but he knows there's a connection and he knows Obi-Wan is happy when Anakin is around and that's enough for any child. They just want their parents to be happy.)

And so Anakin leaves, and Vader returns, more ruthless, more brutal than before, reminding the Empire why they feared him so much in the first place. And Sidious praises his dear apprentice right until he finds himself choking because Vader did as all Sith before him: he betrayed his Master.

Feeling hollow, Vader takes his throne, sends a message out to collect the Jedi traitor who stole his child.

Everything from here on his carefully planned. He rules and reigns, destroys and makes everyone hate him.

(Just not Obi-Wan. His Master can't hate him, loves him too much, still kisses away his tears.)

Obi-Wan and Luke live in the palace, continue their lessons on balance and hope and care and love until the Senate nearly breaks, until Vader has ruined everything and the time for change has come.

Perhaps, in the silence of their bedroom, the very same they'd always slept in because of course Sidious would claim their temple, their home, for his palace, Obi-Wan says once more I can't kill you. And they spent the rest of the night trying to make each other forget.

When, finally, the dawn breaks, the theatre continues. They'd planned it out entirely, know their steps by heart. Obi-Wan takes Anakin's lightsaber because Luke deserves better than to inherit a blade that has caused so much pain, that will kill his father. They make a show out of a duel that Luke will not see, locked away in his room, already having said his goodbyes, not knowing it will be for forever.

(This, perhaps, is the only thing he will ever lay at Obi-Wan’s feet in accusation: Not the fact that he murdered Anakin, but that the two of them denied Luke the chance to cling to his father a moment longer.)

And, in the end, there Anakin lies, eyes once more blue, Obi-Wan's kneeling form obscuring his last words and last smile from all onlookers as the tyrannical Emperor dies in his lover's arm.

The Empire celebrates, once more believing in a better future, caring for the Jedi they'd judged before as High General Obi-Wan Kenobi, Regent of His Majesty, stands next to a throne much too large for little Luke Skywalker, who inherits a peace his father once destroyed and rebuilt again.

There is no redemption for Darth Vader.

The Empire remembers a monster as it slowly returns to something kinder, fairer. But somewhere in the palace halls that become a Temple again, welcoming its children home, when the day turns into night, Luke listens to Obi-Wan tell him stories of Anakin, fondly remembers the months his father lived with them and they'd been happy

(And maybe, once he’s old enough to no longer need Obi-Wan to rule for him, teaching his own students and heirs, is tired of the crown on his head, he wonders what it might have been like in a different life.)

[love-toxin]

stuffing the second

a/n: it’s been a couple weeks since darling discovered the reason for their friends’ odd behaviors, and in that time she has adjusted to the domestic bliss of her holiday vacation. for the most part.

parts: 1

warnings: female reader, u.a university au, established relationships, jealousy, yandere dekusquad, oral, fourway, pregnancy/breeding mention, unprotected sex, cum eating, creampie, lingerie, panty kink, alcohol, voyeurism, masturbation, teasing, dirty talk. 

word count: 9.2k

"Wake up, sleeping beauty.."

The corners of your dream world swiftly started fading into darkness, and the little streams of light that filtered into the room warmed your face, enough that your eyelids fluttered open slowly and you were privy to the one who was calling your name in such a sweet tone. 

The warmth of the sun on the earth was nothing compared to Ochaco's, her eyes holding enough light to put it to shame, and the way she cherished you like a fire that blazed so hot that it might burn. But even if she did, you had no doubts that it would be the most glorious end to go down in her flames. 

"I was waiting awhile, you know...you're so cute when you're asleep."

Her giggle filled the otherwise quiet room, with only the heater thrumming softly in the corner to cut the silence. She trailed a fingertip over your forehead and curved it downwards to catch a strand of your hair, so she could tuck it back behind your ear and lean in close to catch your lips in the process. She must have taken off her mitts before you woke up, you realized, as you remembered the night before when she was so embarrassed to be seen putting them on...but you found it rather endearing, actually, and the thought brought a smile to your face that Ochaco eagerly leaned in to even more. The soft, wet sounds of her tongue slipping past your lips resonated in your chest, and her cold fingers reaching below the sleep shirt you borrowed from Izuku only stirred that feeling up even more, your gentle moans muffled into her mouth once she started palming at your chest…

Bzzzzzz!

The two of you jumped with a start at the noise that broke you both apart, her hands retracting back in shock before you realized what it was. Ochaco's phone vibrated frantically on her nightstand, Shoto's face stuffed full of noodles lighting up her screen with each ring. Your hand fell to rest on her hip, sympathy clear in your expression as she sighed and reached over to pick it up--and when she held it to her ear, she turned her attention back to make a few kissy gestures at you for your amusement. 

"Uraraka, have you seen-"

"She's with me. What is it?"

Your girlfriend cut Shoto's question short, the sigh from the other end of the line one of deep relief. He had a few issues with separation, so a call like this was in no way uncommon--though it would usually be through your cellphone, which probably lay dead back in your room where you'd left it the night before. 

"Tell her to come downstairs. It's an emergency."

This time it was her turn to heave a sigh, and she pinched the bridge of her nose in a gesture that made it clear how thin her patience was running. Which, when it came to Shoto, came to a much sooner halt than some of your other companions. It often seemed like an uphill battle to keep the bickering between them to a minimum. 

"She's busy. Did you set something on fire?"

"No...I want her to make me breakfast." 

Though the shock of his blunt honesty brought a soft giggle to your lips, Uraraka scoffed and returned his awkward sentiment with a scathing edge to her voice that would cut a lesser man like a knife. 

"Are you kidding me? You're twenty, Shoto. You can cook for yourself."

"But I have work to do today...besides, I'll just burn everything."

And of course, the way he spun his words into a whine tugged at your compassion, much like a sad little puppy would make you want to pet it and bring it home. With a gentleness to your touch, you reached out and plucked the phone from your lover's hand, who just seemed more than glad to have an escape from the conversation as a whole. 

"I'll be down in a few minutes, okay Sho?"

You hadn't yet realized you still had a sleepy tinge to your voice, a yawn breaking your sentence but not interrupting your smile as you heard him perk up on the other end. 

"Thank you. I love you so much." 

He could have spoken for so much longer, or just sat there and listened to you breathe, but you exchanged sweet goodbyes and tapped the little icon to end the call, before handing it back over to your girlfriend. 

"I guess we should get dressed, huh?"

It was a gentle nudge to allow her to roll off the bed first with another sigh, so you could climb off afterwards and lower your feet to the cool wood beneath you. Ochaco had her complaints, but she kept them to herself as she often did, either so she wouldn't cause conflict or so as to not ruin the mood--and you liked that she had such a passionate streak that she would defend herself if the time came to it, but you appreciated it immensely when she refrained from doing so, specifically when it came to her squabbles with Shoto. Otherwise it could blow up into a hot mess that you weren't keen on cleaning up by yourself. 

The two of you dressed yourselves in relative quiet, save for the humming of her space heater and when you paused to share a kiss or two, and once you'd pulled on the clean set of clothes you'd strategically left in Ochaco's room for cases like this, you let her open the door for you and both of you made your way down into the main floor of the dormitory. And not only did you find Shoto waiting there on the sofa in the common room side of the floor, but Iida and Izuku had also meandered downstairs to join him, the three sat in their respective places as some cheesy holiday special of a show played on the tv. 

You hadn't said a word or greeted them with a "hello", but Shoto's eyes were laser-guided towards you and he propelled himself off the couch in quite the grand hurry, his pace slowing only as he approached you and you took his face into your hands for a kiss. 

"Good morning, Sho."

"It is now." 

His temperature tended to fluctuate the longer he stood by you, as you had come to understand, and this time his fingertips left trails of heat down your arms as he ghosted over them, before finally clasping his hands over yours and holding them up to press them to his lips. It was moments like these that made it hard to believe you had ever felt lonely, or that you might never find love. Now it stared you in the face through four pairs of eyes each day, and even though they had their own difficulties with themselves and each other, you knew you wouldn't want to have it any other way.

Shoto kissed your forehead this time, his lips a hot pinprick against your chilled skin, and over his shoulder Tenya piped up to mention that he'd already put rice in the steamer for you. 

"Oh, thank you! I'll get started, then. Does anyone want anything special in their miso? Izuku, do you want an egg with yours?" 

With the prospect of breakfast planted in his mind, Shoto managed to detach himself from you and returned to where he had been sitting, with Ochaco following close behind to stay as far from the kitchen mishaps as she could, clumsy as she could often be. And while Izuku responded with an eager yes and the other two asked for leek in their soup, Tenya pulled himself off the sofa with a grunt and an offer to give you a hand. 

You were just lucky that the shared kitchen was big enough to accommodate more than one cook at a time, as even standing at the counter side by side you felt as though Tenya's stature cast a shadow over you, despite him doing something as simple as chopping vegetables while you started making the broth for the soup. Izuku had shown you pictures of all of them in high school, and he had certainly been tall back then--but you wondered if Iida had always been so big, to the point that his stature intimidated other people before they even heard the way he spoke. 

"Bring your legs up...I don't want to crush you."

A memory flashed across your mind in an instant, Tenya's glasses set aside and his hair mussed from your fingers running through it, while the ache in your thighs and the warmth of his hands propping up your knees shuddered through your present body. 

"That's my good girl, taking me so well…"

The furious heat that rose to your cheeks had distracted you from your task, and you rushed to turn the heat down on the stove so that you could put in the tofu and the vegetables. Iida making a mess of you had become a much more frequent occurrence, but then again the same could be said for all of them--you hadn't spent a night without someone in your bed since that first encounter two weeks ago, and based on how intense all of their passions could become, you doubted you would ever sleep alone again. 

"I-It's funny, it kind of feels like I'm one of those moms in movies, cooking for all my children. I like it, though."

In an effort to steer his attention away from your reddened face, you chuckled at your own comment, the thought alone making the situation much sillier. You could barely handle all of them at once as adults, so you could only imagine how chaotic they all must have been as children, much less if they were all together. 

"Do you...want children?"

But Tenya's question knocked that thought clean out of your mind, your common sense blanking as you processed such a simple idea. You weren't oblivious to your friends' behaviors when it came to you, and you were aware of how Tenya was especially determined to go without proper protection, though at the time you had hoped and believed that it was just a kink of his. You had always thought that you didn't really want children so soon, though that was also at a time when you weren't exactly swimming in romantic prospects. So hurting his feelings with an outright no wasn't an option in your opinion, but based on his actions, saying yes might propel you into a future you weren't ready for yet. 

"...I don't know, to be honest. I haven't really thought about it. Maybe." 

You set the pot aside to take it off the heat and held your breath, but he didn't seem especially perturbed by your answer. The rice cooker dinged at his side and he turned to open it and spoon some into the bowls you had out, the only response being the focused look in his eyes as he patted down the rice. 

"...What about you, Tenya?"

Mindlessly, as you'd done it a few times by now, you cracked an egg into the searing pan you'd left to warm up, doing your best to keep it intact as you let it cook for a minute or two. 

"I'd like to have a little boy. But I'd be happy with either." 

He seemed to have his answer much quicker than you did, which was unsurprising considering how organized and plan-oriented of a person he was. It would make sense that he'd have already thought about such a thing, and despite your anxiety about giving him a straight answer on your own feelings about it, it brought your smile back to think about Tenya cooing and bouncing a sweet little baby. The idea seemed so cute that it might have even swayed your opinion a bit into his favour. 

"Funny, I'm pretty sure I've heard Izuku say the same thing. I think you'd both be good fathers." 

With a tap of your spoon around the inside of the pot, you ladled the miso out into separate bowls and set them aside, before pulling your pan off the heat and sliding your freshly-fried egg atop Izuku's steaming bowl of rice. Upon arranging your breakfast trays, you made sure to add a few extra chunks of tofu into Shoto’s portion, as you knew he liked it--and while the other three chattered away on the other side of the room, Tenya leaned down to take the bowls, and whispered into your ear in the process. 

"You would be a spectacular mother." 

With that, he turned and said not another word about it, and instead called for the others to eat while you stood frozen at the counter. A lump had formed in your throat without you noticing, his compliment repeating over again in your head, and it was only by the chairs scraping against the floor once your friends took their seats that you broke out of it, and brought over your own food to set at the spot you chose. Whoever you sat next to would usually take that opportunity to lay their hand on your thigh under the table, or play footsie if you sat across from them, so by now you had learned to set your place at the end of the table if you wanted to eat with some semblance of peace. 

“Thank you, baby. It’s perfect!” 

Izuku leaned over to peck your cheek, his face aglow with joy as he took his time in savouring his food along with the others--save for Shoto, who already had a mouthful of rice and had started to drink his broth with vigor straight from the bowl. The scene still gave you a chuckle that broke you out of the thoughts whirring in your head, despite Tenya asking your half and half boyfriend to swallow before he spoke, which he still ignored. Breakfast as a whole had become much more lively now in these days of your holiday vacation--you had gotten used to eating alone or having to pick and choose who you ate with when they were all struggling to get along, so the sight of all your closest friends smiling and talking together as they ate warmed your spirit, and gave you hope that it would last long after your other dorm mates came back and your next term resumed. 

"So, does anyone have any big plans today?"

Ochaco's question hung heavy in the air for you, your mood downturning at being reminded of what you had to get done. You'd asked professor Aizawa for some study materials to prepare for the next term, so you needed to finish the last module today--and after that, you had planned to do some cleaning in your room as well as do the chores that were expected of all of you while the other students and staff were gone. Other than that, you might train by yourself or with Izuku in the gym facility, but the laundry list of tasks in front of you made you want to crawl right back into bed. 

"Me and Iida are meeting up with Bakugo and Kiri in Hosu City, and I think Tsuyu might be coming, too. You wanna come, Uraraka?"

Your girlfriend's eyes lit up, and you felt a loving pang in your chest at her eager acceptance of their invitation, since you knew that she hadn't seen her close friend since they were accepted to different universities after high school. Tsuyu was the only one of their previous class that you hadn't met, and part of you wished you could tag along with them. But even though they would absolutely say yes, you knew you couldn't abandon your work here, despite wanting to have a little break away from the dorms for awhile. 

"Aw, that sounds fun! I've got some studying to do, and after that I'm gonna be cleaning. So nothing too exciting, I guess.."

You laughed it off, not wanting to dampen their mood and cause them to consider cancelling their plans, especially since it might be nice to have some quiet time to yourself. However, Shoto remedied that quite handily, as he set down his bowl and cut in before the others could say a word.

"I need to study, too. Can we do it together?" 

Well, it wasn't the private study time you might have looked forward to, but an afternoon with Shoto did seem like fun, and so you agreed with little hesitation. At least you might be able to relax a little more with him there. So as soon as you finished your meal and everyone helped to clean up, you kissed your other partners goodbye and waved them off as they headed towards the train station in the snow, with a promise that they would be back before the evening and they'd bring dinner with them. 

With all the endless barrages of love and pleas for your attention over the last couple weeks, you found that you could breathe a small sigh of relief once they were gone--not because you didn't love them, of course, but because your desire to please them all and make them happy had become an overwhelming task for everything else that you had on your plate. But based on the look in Shoto's eyes once you were alone, and the way he took your hand in his to lead you up the stairs to his bedroom, a feeling stirred in your chest that it would still come to be a heavy load to bear. 

"How many questions do you have left?"

"Just one, Sho."

Your boyfriend stretched out again from where he lay on his bed, his textbooks and papers tucked away neatly to the side while yours were scattered all around you as you sat on the floor nearby. Shoto had finished his work ages ago, and left you completely in the dust as you leafed through your notebooks from the past semester and searched for the answers to your practice tests with military precision. You needed to take your average up by a significant margin if you didn't want to be left behind, and you were more than willing to work towards it if Aizawa was generous enough to give you the practice books--but mercy, you were at your wit's end by this point, and after hours of slogging through your work you couldn't begin to describe how satisfying it was to mark off the last answer to your final question. 

"At last. I'm finally free...kind of." 

You shut your book loud enough that it gave Shoto a start, but the realization that you'd finished had him hauling himself up and getting to his feet while you tossed the text aside, and rubbed your temples to relieve the headache that had slowly been building up. Your work was finished for now, but the cycle would repeat as soon as your second term started in a couple weeks' time, and you could only hope that your scores would be high enough once it came to your final exams...but for now, you elected just to focus on relaxing, and try to enjoy your holiday with your newfound companions. Including the one who had braved the academic storm alongside you, and was now rummaging around in his closet for something unknown until he finally closed his fingers around it. 

Out came a square, dully-wrapped box with a little bow atop it, and it wasn't until Shoto meandered over, pulled you up to sit on his bed, and placed the box in your lap that you realized it was a present. 

"I got you something. I wanted to wait until you were finished, so we could enjoy it together.." 

His low, sultry tone put you off, but your curiosity won out and you carefully undid the clumsy tape job that had been folded over one too many times, before you slid the package out of its wrapping and gently lifted the lid off of the plain white cardboard box. Atop it sat a layer of gold-coloured tissue paper that you peeled away, and when you caught a glimpse of what was underneath it all, your face flushed immediately and you felt your whole body heat up in an instant, and not just because Shoto was sidled up right next to you to watch you open it. 

"It's some work-in-progress hero merchandise...but I decided that you should be the only one to wear it. Do you like the colours?" 

Egged on by the excitement in Shoto's voice, you bit your lip as you picked the lingerie up for a closer look. As he described, the babydoll-inspired top was decorated with a fiery red that burned the same colour as Shoto's left half around the cups, and had a loose, cut front that flowed with pillowy white lace around the bodice. Still sitting pretty in the box were a pair of panties in the same red colour too, however they sported little white bows as well to compliment the half and half design, which you knew was a blatant show of Shoto's ownership over you. The others certainly wouldn't get the same joy out of it that he was at the moment, but then again, this would have to be one of those things that stayed private between you and a select one of your lovers. 

"It's...It's really pretty, Shoto. Thank you."

It wasn't a lie--the little outfit was beautiful, and you could tell that not only was it crafted with an extreme attention to detail, but that Shoto himself must have put a great amount of thought into it to have it made for you. His breath fanned warmly over your ear as he whispered a question, and a deep, lustful passion stirred within you that prompted you to nod and hurry over to the closet so that you could change into it. He didn't need to close his eyes, but he did so regardless for the surprise factor--and once you had slipped it on and adjusted it so that it fit just right, you felt shyness overcome you as you stood before your boyfriend and told him he could take a look. 

In retrospect, you should have known you had nothing to worry about. Shoto's cheeks burned even hotter than your own the moment he pulled his hands away from his eyes, and even though he had been the one to decide how he wanted it to fit on your perfect body, the sight seemed to overwhelm him so much that you swore you felt the room grow several degrees warmer. 

"...You're so beautiful. You're my angel."

Like a man possessed, you flinched at how tightly he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer, his knees parting so you could stand between them and be as close as possible. You braced yourself against his chest, your palms sweaty not just from how warm his skin was to the touch, and he kissed you like he was trying to lock you in and never let you go. His eyes roamed every exposed bit of flesh like he couldn’t decide what he liked the best, and in the end he couldn’t choose, because the declaration that you were perfect tumbled from his mouth and left a less than embarrassed smile in its wake. 

His fingertips hovering over the hem of your new panties, he leaned in and started to leave kisses down the valley of your chest, each one cool against your flesh in a way that you knew was on purpose. Recently he had become obsessed with testing the limits of his quirk on you, from heating up his cock while you had sex to freezing the tip of his tongue to make you squirm when he flicked it against your clit, and you had started to wonder where those boundaries would end or if it would ever stop feeling so good. 

"Can I take these off? You look so cute, but…"

Shoto's grip tightened on your underwear, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He needn't bother saying more, you knew exactly what he was getting at, and you served him a nod to let him know how okay with that you really were. It wasn't any surprise that his touches had already stirred something up within you, and considering that he couldn't hold in a moan as he tugged them down and saw how slick you were already, Shoto was more than happy to tend to you after leaving you so hot and bothered. He beckoned you in to lay down on the bed, and once you stepped out of the panties you'd left a damp spot in, you didn't miss him muttering under his breath that he would leave those for Izuku as he tossed them to the floor. 

Those thoughts were cast aside for the moment, however, once you laid back and watched with a tremor in your breathing as Shoto settled in on his stomach, and rested his hands on both of your thighs to spread them apart and lower his face between them. The warmth of his breath on your nethers prickled the hairs on the back of your neck, but the lustful glaze over his eyes was what sent shivers rocketing down your spine, his expression that of a lion about to pounce on his next meal. 

"The others can do what they want, they can show you their love in whatever way they think is impressive…"

You could practically feel the rumble of his words so close to your flesh, and so low in his throat--but it came to life when he narrowed his eyes and spit against your clit, before rubbing the pads of his fingers into it in slow, soft circles. 

"...But you know who goes down on you the best, don't you, pretty girl?" 

A purr rose in his chest at the sight of you trembling underneath him, your cunt already clenching around nothing just from having him touch you a little bit. He let another glob of his saliva fall from his lips in a strand before it squished against you, and in the meantime, his thumb slid up between your soft lips to gently pinch your little bud between his other fingers. Every movement seemed smooth and calculated, even if it wasn't--Shoto just knew your body so well, he had you melting in the palm of his hand before you even knew what happened. 

"Iida loves it when you suck his cock, but I know he doesn't even come close to me...I bet he doesn't leave you all puffy and wet like I do, does he?"

No part of that was a question. Everyone had their own quirks both power-based and not, and when it came to love, everyone insisted they were the best at something specific. And as loathe as you were to admit it when you wanted to keep a balance, Shoto was right on this front, and he knew it--he could barely keep the mirth in his eyes down while he was rolling your clit between his fingers, and especially not when you bucked the moment he let his tongue slip out and lick up between your parted folds. 

"That's what I love about eating you out--how messed up you look when I'm done with you. Your clit always gets so swollen and warm…"

Raising his head back up to meet your eyes, he gave your little bud one last squeeze before releasing his hold on it, and spent a few moments watching you tremble while giving it a few tender kitten licks. Normally he'd be going overboard, his hands pressed down on your hips to keep you from squirming while he sucked the life right out of you, but today he was in no rush, as it seemed. His fingers hovered over your pussy to trail light strokes down your opening, before he slipped them inside one at a time and sealed his lips over your clit to help you relax a little more. 

He didn't need to bother fingering you in all honesty, you had taken quite the pleasurable beating from an array of your lovers, and when you were this wet you could take his whole cock with ease, both cold and hot. But it certainly didn't mean you didn't appreciate Shoto's methods and his gentleness, especially when the heat of his mouth made your mind white out, and his tongue lapped at you so sweetly you might have met your end right then and there. And his fingers were like a dream as always, all three of them slippery and hot as he stretched you out and searched for the spots he knew would make you mewl for more, if you could even form words at all. Shoto sucked down on you, his teeth just barely grazing your nub, and the clench of your cunt around his hand as you cried out just caused you to leak even more--and after pulling himself off your clit with a lewd pop, he aided himself with his other hand to spread you apart, and felt no need to be discreet as he dipped his tongue inside you and started slurping at your pussy with a ravenous fervor. His lips felt so soft and plush against you as you shrieked and your hips started to spasm, and with nowhere else to dig your nails into, you slid your hands amid Shoto's bi-coloured locks and held on tight to keep yourself even somewhat grounded while he sucked you into another world. 

"Hah...you make such cute sounds…"

Shoto's eyes practically pierced straight through you, his mouth agape for him to pant and your arousal to drip down his chin, the moments between him making a meal out of you feeling as though they lasted forever. 

"Cum on my face. I'll clean up your mess, dirty girl.." 

Though his skills in going down on you were enough to make you see stars, you couldn't help noticing that his dirty talk tended to be a bit lacking, partly in creativity and partly in expression--but it was endearing more than anything else, and the eagerness with which he returned to his task just made you squeal and squeeze his head between your thighs even harder. And he seemed to enjoy it, even, where a lesser man might have told you to stop--his moans rumbled through your pussy as you locked him against you, and though one of his hands was occupied with curling a finger into your sweet spot, the other looped around your leg to keep you steady, his eyes begging for you to suffocate him and drown him in as much of you as he could take. 

It seemed like that would come soon, too--you had just barely been clinging to your self control for a while now, and it only took a little push and one last soft, cool stroke of his tongue against your clit for your lower half to tremble and jerk in his hands. He kept you as still as he could, his grasp on you tight so that you would tremble into his mouth, and he made sure that not an inch of you was left unloved as he coaxed you through your orgasm and into a pleasant afterglow. His muffled praises of "good girl, that's my sweet girl" fell on deaf ears, but the sloppy sounds of his tongue vying for every drop of your arousal did not, until he finally raised his head and let your legs fall limp against the sheets of his bed with the rest of you. Your world flickered and darkened for a moment once you closed your eyes for a breather--and when you opened them again, Shoto's head laid on your chest, and the sounds of knuckles rapping wood roused you from your unexpected nap. 

"Shoto? Are you two still studying? Dinner's downstairs!"

The lilt of Izuku's voice made his suspicion clear at once--he was one of the better-behaved ones about it, but having any of your partners catch you having your alone time with another was always a sore spot, and the jealousy that simmered below the surface would heat up far too fast to be culled if you didn't intervene. But then again, hearing him just outside the door made you perk up, and with a hand on Shoto's cheek to steady him you sat up in bed, and felt the blanket he'd draped over you slide off your naked shoulders.

"Mnh...ah, we're coming! Just a minute.."

With a couple soft paps of your hand against the back of his neck, Shoto finally stirred and rolled over with a groan, his arm still laid over you until you shuffled over and met the cool ground with the pads of your feet. The chill of his room brought the hairs on your body to a prickle, and it was only then that you realized you had been stripped of the lingerie you'd dressed up in just for him.

"Sho, where are my clothes?"

Your panties had already fallen victim to Shoto's desires, but you couldn't recall taking off the top, which could only mean that it must have been snatched after you had fallen into your unintentional sleep. You could already see that he feigned ignorance to his perversion, however, by the way he turned his gaze away and spoke without meeting your eyes. 

"I'm putting them in with my laundry. Just take something from my closet." 

So cheeky. With a quick glance around the room, you caught a glimpse of a familiar shade of green fabric kicked into a pile in the corner, Izuku's hoodie left abandoned with the dust bunnies nearby his clothing hamper. You should have guessed that he would take offense to you wearing anyone else's clothes, but you let it slide for now in the interest of time, and hurried over to his closet to pick out something to make yourself decent with. The most appropriate you could find was a black, loose sweater and a pair of shorts in the bottom that you thought you had lost, the button just barely clasped shut when Izuku's impatience won over and he peeked in around the half-open door. 

"Oh-!”

Despite being the reason for your nudity on so many occasions, his first instinct was to avert his eyes from your almost-naked form, nearly turning around completely with his flushed cheeks until you scrambled to pull on your outfit. Meanwhile, Shoto rose from his place in bed and stretched his arms up over his head, the only part of him still clothed being the rather tight-fitting pair of boxer briefs that he must have stripped down to to sleep in. Izuku’s eyes darted towards your companion, his gaze lingering on the way that Shoto licked his lips...but the moment passed once you grabbed the handle and pulled the door open all the way, to sidle past your boyfriend and head down the hall that led downstairs. 

“What did you guys pick, Zuku?”

You called back over your shoulder, and he only dawdled for a moment in the doorway before following close behind, and leaving Shoto to listen to the two of you as you padded down the corridor together. 

“Oh...just some beef bowl takeout. Do you feel like it? I can always make you something else..”

You were quick to politely refuse, knowing all too well that he would go to any extent if he thought it would make you happy--but you were fine with the choice, and you both chattered away about his visit with your other friends on the way while you wandered out of Shoto’s earshot. 

Your belly full to bursting, you laid yourself out on the couch with a soft sigh of relief, and cozied up to the cushions while the meal warmed you from the inside out. Somehow the stress of completing your tests and the exercise that Shoto had put you through that afternoon had morphed into a fierce, undeniable hunger, one that compelled you to not only clean your bowl but also eat the excess bits of beef that Izuku couldn’t stomach. That along with the wine that Iida had poured for you resulted in a full, heavy feeling that weighed you down and pinned you to the sofa, your hoodie acting as a makeshift blanket as you settled in and closed your eyes…

“Asleep already?” 

This time you hadn't the chance to doze off by accident, though, as Ochaco's sweet voice floated by you, and you snapped back to attention to see her leaning over the arm of the couch. The clinking of dishes and silverware and the soft chatter between Izuku and Tenya as they cleaned up created a mumble in the background, but her eyes locked on to you in a way that made you unable to look away, her steps slow and confident as she circled round the sofa and perched right next to you. You didn’t take up nearly the whole couch laying down, and it wasn't as if she couldn't sit at the end and bring your legs up to rest over her lap, as she often liked to do while you hung out or watched a movie--but this time she was close, so close, and only getting closer as she squeezed you into the back of the couch and laid down so your faces were practically touching. 

“I love it when you’re sleepy. You always get so cuddly…” 

Her fingertips drifted over the little patch of skin of your hip that had been left uncovered by your sweater, and trailed up higher underneath in a way that mimicked what she had tried to pull you into this morning. Ochaco captured your lips in a kiss, but this one felt as though it had no end, as she pressed herself into you and followed your movements at every turn until every breath you took was hers. She pushed your hoodie up all the way to your neck and pawed at your bare chest, and you barely even noticed, your mind drawn in by her comforting scent and the way her knee pressed up between your scantily-clad legs. 

"...Where are your panties? Did one of the boys take them?...Was it Izuku?"

She whispered against your lips, and you couldn't understand how she could tell until you realized she had slipped a hand down the front of your shorts, fingers brazen as they felt for your soft spots and tag-teamed you along with the hand that was palming at your breast. Izuku and Iida both liked to touch them gently, and Shoto preferred to bury his face between them--but only Ochaco knew how much pressure was too much, how gentle she could be without it feeling bland, and the way that you liked your nipples pulled and pinched and played with that would have you soaking your panties, or lack thereof. She wiggled your shorts down your legs with little hassle, you wouldn't have the energy to fight it in the first place if you wanted to--and once she'd found a rhythm to which she touched you, it was only a matter of time before you heard the click of a camera and the soft, fleshy sounds of someone with his hand wrapped around his shaft. 

"How do you feel, honey?"

Izuku said nothing about the hand he had down his jeans, his smile knowing and cheeky as he snapped another photo of the two of you with his cellphone. He stood looming over the arm of the couch with a touch of warmth to his cheeks, and Ochaco didn't even entertain the idea of stopping, her kisses growing deeper instead and her tongue slipping out to lock you in a smothering embrace. 

"Tired, kinda...floaty...and warm.." 

Your words slurred once she broke off, and your voice was peppered with soft breaths, each one a signal to your girlfriend that her fingers were successful in working you over. 

"I think you drank too much, baby. You're such a lightweight, aren't you?"

Izuku teased, and shifted his pants off his hips until they fell into a heap on the floor, and he could move around the side of the couch to come and kneel right by your head. Ochaco sat up for him and moved your limp body about until you laid flat on your back, and once she kicked off her bottoms and straddled your waist the positioning finally made sense, as Izuku motioned for you to turn your head and come face-to-face with the flushed tip of his cock. And while he did so, and you parted your lips on instinct for him to carefully nuzzle himself inside, you were suddenly much more aware of the heaviness of the room as another presence moved about and the sounds of clothes shifting and falling met your ears. 

Iida's weight shifted the sofa cushions as he perched at the very end, his back to the arm of it as he settled in and squirted a little glob of lube out of the bottle and smeared it all over his cock with his hand. He was calculated, meticulous even, with his movements--and he spared no effort to lube you up as well, the tiny dark spot that had collected on the cushions beneath you more than enough to indicate that you were ready. He tugged your leg up to rest over the arm of the sofa, perhaps to get a bit more leverage, and angled his hips down to really sink every inch inside you after he managed to slip the head past your soaking lips. It was not an unfamiliar feeling, the curve of his cock against your pressure points and the warmth with which Tenya filled you when he was aroused--but the naked sensation of bare skin on skin certainly was, even if your head felt too heavy to comprehend why it felt so much more intense than usual. And even if you could, Izuku's iron grip on your hair as he picked up the pace to pound the back of your throat would not let up until it was too late to go back.

"You love it when we do this together, don't you, baby?" 

The bruises were already starting to form, you were sure of it. Izuku was overly passionate and Iida took no liberties when he was fucking you, knowing that you could take plenty of his rough treatment before it became too much. And Ochaco nipped and bit at your exposed neck like a lithe little panther, leaving marks in her wake that would not be so easily covered with a bit of makeup or a scarf. 

"Getting loved on from every angle...you deserve all of it. You deserve this."

He moaned his praises like a prayer, all while he encouraged you to suck and promised that it would make him cum so fast, that you would make him cum in seconds, just because you were so perfect that he could barely stand it. On the opposite end Iida's blunt nails raked down your thighs, his grip losing strength the longer he plunged into your sweet, honey-like pussy--and he said so, filthy compliments mumbled under his breath while he watched Ochaco play with your clit and grew even harder at the sight. Every delicious movement against you made you clench even tighter around him, and you doubted that either boy would last very long at the pace all three of them were keeping up. 

"I'll give you everything you want when I'm a hero! I'll buy you a beautiful home and bring you beautiful gifts...I'll give you everything...e-everything...I have.." 

Izuku stuttered as did his thrusts, his cock swelling with heat and sliding a centimetre or two deeper down your throat each time. He would've cared if you choked but he didn't mind it if you squirmed a little around him, your jaw aching by the way he split your lips open around his length, and because of the fact that you were struggling not to let your teeth scrape his sensitive areas too painfully. That was the least you could do, as there was no danger on Iida's side save for the fact that it felt as though he might slide right into your womb, by the way he battered your pussy like he wouldn’t have another chance to do so. And Ochaco tended to her own needs with your fingers buried within her, movements slick and sloppy as she used your hand to get herself off, and whined into the crook of your neck between soft, open-mouthed kisses. 

Somehow it all felt just like the first time. They were more confident, but otherwise the attention you were paid by the members of your little squad felt very much like you were back in your room that first night, with your heart fluttering so wildly in your chest that you felt like it might explode. Part of you wanted to shy away from the attention, and part of you wanted it all the more--was it wrong to want to be consumed by this kind of love? Would you regret it? Or would you sleep well at night knowing what you knew, and accepting the gifts of your friends even when they were given partly out of spite of the others? Was it truly love that fuelled them, as they said--or was it just jealousy?

Izuku’s panting broke you out of your momentary lapse of consciousness, his whimpers growing higher and higher pitched until they broke into babbled praise--and warmth flooded your mouth within moments, his hips stilling shallowly enough that he wouldn’t completely drown you in his cum. But he certainly wasn’t going to pull out all the way, not until the pulsing of his cock had died down and he’d blown his load in the only place that made his eyes roll back in his head in the process. 

"Y-You don't have to swallow, baby--I know you're still full from dinner. Here," 

Izuku held out his hand, his breathing still heavy from the brief recovery, and it occurred to you without him having to tell you that he was offering for you to spit into his palm. He was a bit more considerate than Iida and Shoto, who both took every opportunity to drain themselves into whatever hole you offered, and Ochaco when she was especially horny and wanted you to lick her clean after she finished. But just as you considered taking his offer, you felt a bit of pressure on your cheek that forced you to turn your head, and your girlfriend parted your lips with her thumb so she could slip her tongue past them. It wouldn't have been such a noticeable feat--but the fact that she was licking up the cum he'd dumped into your mouth certainly was, and swallowing every drop until she was left to suck on your tongue with a muffled moan at the back of her throat. In that moment you couldn't help but wonder that if you could cum like Izuku did, would Ochaco drink it up so feverishly? Or maybe she would take it right from the source, and milk you until you couldn't give her any more, before she arched her back and bucked against your fingers like she was doing at this very moment. Her hips buckled and she slumped atop you once the tremors flooded through her body, though her cunt still spasmed around your sticky fingers, and you felt her limp body rock at the same pace as yours as Iida had his way and yanked you back to meet the growing intensity of his thrusts. 

"Cum,"

He demanded, sweat beading down his chest from the pleasurable exertion. Perhaps he wasn’t sweating from the exercise, but from holding himself back this whole time--unlike the others, you knew he abstained from any sexual endeavors while you weren’t around, which resulted in a very pent-up aggression that made Iida so much more brutal during your encounters. If he was going to cum, he would save it until he had you in his sights...and it wasn’t until he groaned out that he was close that you realized he had never wasted a drop since this all started. 

You could thank your lucky stars that Ochaco had more stamina than the rest, her fingers critical to your orgasm that Tenya would drag out of you otherwise. Much like Izuku would do when he thought you were asleep, she cooed into your ear and coaxed you into letting yourself relax, her declarations of love concerning but calming when they were spoken with such a sweet voice. The moment you arched off the sofa and started squirming was enough of a tell that you were done for, and with an iron grip on your waist to keep you from wriggling too far, Iida finally stopped and grit his teeth to smother any especially foul compliments in front of the others, before letting your body pull him into his end and draw a rumbly groan out from the deep pit of his chest. 

Anyone that might have stayed behind for the holidays would have heard your cry then, the rush of heat that filled you to the brim such a sensory overload that it felt like you might shut down completely. All of a sudden the hands on your skin were too much, the fullness inside you was too much, everything you always loved was too much--but your girlfriend cupped your cheeks and pulled you to meet her eyes, and each kiss she peppered to your face between soft praises helped to tether you back to the real world instead of floating off. 

“...What a mess. We should have laid a towel down, first…”

And nothing brought you back to reality better than Iida’s constant diligence, your boyfriend having reached over to the side table to retrieve his glasses before slowly pulling out, and watching with a glint in his eyes as his cum sloshed out of you with every spasm of your aftershocks. 

“I’ll help you, Iida. Here, honey, keep your hips up--just until Iida gets something to wipe you off with, okay?”

In the meantime, Izuku reached down to tug your feet closer to the cushions, and angle your hips upwards so that you wouldn’t spill even more on to the sofa. Iida got to his feet leisurely while Ochaco rolled off of you and cupped your bottom with her hands to keep you steady, even her usual cheeky squeezes having come to a halt as you caught your breath and let them move you as they pleased, too tired to even do so yourself. 

“That’s my good girl. I’ll get you a pill tomorrow, promise--I think Iida was just really happy to come home and see you. You missed us today, didn’t you?”

You nodded slowly, the fuzzy tinge of the alcohol finally wearing off and making you much more aware of the aches and soreness that your lovers had left behind. You would have been happy to cuddle up on the nearest surface and fall asleep--but you waited dutifully until Iida reappeared with a towel, and tucked it underneath you so you could lay back down and rest against the couch while he cleaned you off with a warm cloth. 

“Did you have fun with Shoto?” 

Ochaco drew her fingers over your ear to brush aside the strands of hair that had fallen into your eyes, her question left unanswered until you finally found the strength to mumble about what you did that afternoon, all three of them patient and passionate listeners while you recounted both your exciting and mundane endeavors. 

“He gave you his present already, so why don’t we clean up and then exchange ours? I’m excited for you to see what I got you…” 

Izuku’s giggle reminded you of a little bell, chiming away in the breeze--it filled you with a strange sense that you couldn’t put your finger on, but it didn’t prevent you from smiling to yourself and musing about your hopes that they’d like your gifts, too. You worked so hard on them and nearly forgot to give them out...you only hoped that Shoto wouldn’t be sad that he got his last, though you were sure that when he opened it the feeling wouldn’t last. 

As Iida finally towelled you dry enough that you could venture into the halls without making a mess, your loopy grin was kissed and exchanged with all three of them before you made your way towards your room to find some clothes, the earlier events of the night completely forgotten as you daydreamed about how happy they would be to receive their presents. Even knocking on Shoto’s door to ask if he wanted to join slipped into the back of your mind, too busy with finding even a single clean pair of underwear and dressing yourself so that you could have a comfortable rest of your evening--but he wasn’t forgotten completely, as his phone lit up in the darkness of his room and cast a glow over his face as he sat back in bed. 

izuku 彡☆

thought you'd want a pic since you missed out. isn't she the cutest? 

His thumb hovered over the image, every shred of sense inside him shouting for him to open it and have a look. As much as he wanted to absolve himself of any guilt, in the end his lust won out, and a groan rumbled in his chest at the sight of you and Ochaco making out with your pussy dripping all over the sofa cushions, your face all flushed and sweaty to match. Perhaps if he hadn't already been fisting his cock with your panties wrapped around his shaft, he might have been able to abstain. But he was so hard after you left, his opportunity to get you to suck him off having slipped from his hands after Izuku stole you away for dinner--and what was he expected to do? Will away his erection after indulging in one of the finest pleasures you could ever bestow upon him? 

Besides, he wasn't as twisted as they were. He wouldn't stoop to buttering you up so you wouldn't be the wiser to what they wanted from you...even if it gave him chills to see the aftermath, and the wonder if you would wander back to his room to return his clothes, and maybe spend a little alone time with him to make up for him missing your group dinner. You were that type of person after all, always so sweet and kind towards others, even if they didn't deserve it.

Even if he didn't deserve it when he was cumming all over your new panties, and feeling the urge to touch himself rise again mere seconds after finishing, he just hoped you would give it to him anyways. Maybe when you realized which one of them had your best interests in mind, and the three that just wanted to keep you all to themselves.