#wooden bathroom doors images

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Welcome Home, Rooster Bradshaw.

summary: It's been a long six months away from home for Bradley, and you're going to give him the welcome you both deserve.

a/n: ignore that this gif is from the offer, ok? It fits the vibe.

pairing: bradley bradshaw x reader

warnings/content: masturbation (m), facesitting, p in v, creampie, dirty talk, bradley's a vocal lover, praise kink.

word count: 3k

taglist: @nouis-bum @floydsmuse @mamachasesmayhem @avengersfan25 @jessicab1991 @atarmychick007 @b-bradshaw @djs8891 @fall-winter-heart97 @primroseluna @silversprings-mp3 @drxgxnslxyer @gardenavenue

Two more days.

Two more days until Bradley could see your face in person again. Two more days until he could be home and in his own space. 

Bradley let out a heavy, tired sigh, reaching his hand under his pillow. He pulled out the picture of you that he���d brought with him on deployment, tracing over your image with his fingers gently. The picture’s edges were becoming curled, worn from being tucked into flight helmets and under pillows, clutched in sweating, sometimes shaking palms, lips pressed to it in a tender kiss on occasion. He admired the photo, he’d taken it on a date you went on before he left. 

His dad’s well-loved Polaroid camera, left to him as a kid, in hand, he’d taken you to Mission Beach for the day, wanting to have the full tourist experience with you before he got shipped to the middle of the Pacific again. He found a store in Coronado that sold film for vintage cameras, building up a small stockpile for himself. He’d given you a full photoshoot that day — pictures snapped at every opportunity. Watching planes fly over head, playing games in the arcade, rides on the wooden rollercoaster, rock climbing, lunch dates, mini golf, and rock climbing. He’d snapped a couple of you in your sundress, smiling sweetly at him for the camera, your hair flowing in the warm Pacific breeze. 

This photo, however, was the one of you laughing on the beach, your baby blue two-piece swimsuit on, the high-waisted bottoms hugging your curves, the coordinating blue top cupping your breasts in a way that pushed them upever so slightly. He could practically hear your laugh whenever he looked at it, and it made his heartache that little bit more each time. 

“Fuck," he muttered to himself, sighing again as he looked around the bunk. 

Jake was on deck for the night, leaving Bradley with the shared space all to himself for at least a couple of hours. He laid back on his bed, tugging his grey sweatpants down off his hips. He spat into his free hand, using it to stroke his cock in a slow, steady pace, your photograph in his other hand, eyes fixed on your figure as he masturbated. 

Fuck, he missed you. 

He shut his eyes, picturing you as he continued to stroke himself, seeing the facial expression you made whenever you rode him, eyes shut with ecstasy, tits bouncing up and down, hips moving, hands pressed to his chest. The mental image alone was almost enough to drive him over the brink. He let out a deep grunt as he finished, your name escaping him in a soft moan. 

Two days couldn’t come soon enough. 

When he finally got home, Bradley was exhausted. The time difference had caused him more jet lag than it usually did, not that he was sleeping well without you to begin with. He never did. He’d landed earlier than anticipated, coming home a day before he was expected. He unlaced his standard issue boots, kicking them off at the door before heading directly to the laundry room. Stripping clean from his uniform, he tossed it into the washing machine, desperate for a shower and fresh, comfortable clothes.

With a dry towel wrapped around his waist, he bounded up the wooden stairs to the main bathroom. He dropped the towel as he turned the shower on, sighing happily as he stepped into the warm water, letting it wash over him for a minute, enjoying one of the first comforts of being home for the first time in six months. 

Stepping out of the tower, he quickly dried himself off and wrapped his towel back around his waist before heading down the hall to the bedroom. Everything was neatly pulled together — freshly laundered sheets on the bed that still smelled like your favourite detergent, his clothes neatly put away for him, fresh flowers sat in a vase on your nightstand, and a new book sat on his, with a note card placed on top. 

B, I saw this the other day at that cute little bookstore on Orange Ave. It made me think of you. I thought you’d like to read it now that you’ll have a little down time. - Love, your girl. Xo

Bradley felt his heart swell as he read your neatly printed note. He picked the book up, scanning the cover with a soft smile before setting it back down. A true crime book about a case in a podcast he’d mentioned in one of his emails home — it was perfect. God, you were perfect.

He tugged a clean white t-shirt over his head before reaching into his dresser for clean boxer briefs and a pair of well-loved denim shorts that were beginning to fray around the cuffs from being worn so frequently. Bradley looked out the bedroom window at the landscape, happy to finally be home. He’d missed all the little things while he was gone — the palm trees, the smell of those little laundry scent beads you swore by, your coordinating body wash, shampoo and conditioner that you insisted on buying for him when you’d learned he’d been coasting through life for 37 years with a 3-in-1 bottle — almost as much as he’d missed you. 

Downstairs in the kitchen, he got to work crafting himself the sandwich to top all sandwiches. He was starving, and after months of bland, unexciting meals on board an aircraft carrier, all he wanted was comfort food. With his turkey club piled high and a glass bottle of Coke from Mexico in hand, he settled into his favourite chair and began to enjoy himself until you came home from work.

When you did come home, you heard the faint sound of voices coming from the back of the house. You dropped your bag at the front door, running through the house so quickly, you’d forgotten to take your shoes off. In the living room sat Bradley, in his favourite, well-loved chair, dozing as sports highlights played in the background, a plate with remnants of a sandwich and a half-finished bottle of Coke sat on the table beside him. 

You leaned in, pressing your lips to his forehead as you stroked his curls, breathing in the smell of his shampoo. He was finally home.

Bradley’s eyes fluttered open, a smile forming on his lips as he wrapped his arms tightly around you, his nose pressed to your neck as you settled into his lap. 

“Missed you,” he murmured against your skin, peppering you with kisses.

“Missed you more, B,” you echoed as you raked your fingers through his hair. 

“God, I missed you so much, honey. This might have been the hardest trip away from you yet.” 

Bradley’s hands rested firmly on your hips as his lips wandered down your neck to your collarbone. He mumbled against your skin, shoving the strap of your tank top down off of your shoulder. His teeth grazed at your exposed, sun kissed skin, causing you to let out a gasp. 

“Bradley!” you squealed, laughing as his deep brown eyes looked at you, taking in the sight of your face again. 

“Mhmm, I missed that laugh of yours,” he hummed, his large hands moving to cup your breasts. “I’ve missed these tits of yours too.”

“I bet you have, were Jake’s not doing it for you?” you teased.

Bradley scoffed as he pulled your tank top off over your head, tossing it off to somewhere in the void across the room. With one hand snaked around your back, he unfastened your bra in one fluid motion, discarding it to the floor. He grinned at you before pressing his mouth back to your collarbone, thumbs tracing circles over your nipples as they pebbled at his touch.

“No, one’s could do it for me like yours do, honey, you know that. Look at you. So pretty for me. My girl’s always looking pretty, ain’t she?” he purred between kisses to your breasts. 

“Bradley,” you laughed, shaking your head, “This is what you want now that you’re finally home?”

“I’ve been wantin’ this since about two hours after I left, six months without you has been torture. I contemplated quitting when I came home. I thought about faking an injury so they’d discharge me. I tried thinking up a thousand ways to come home early — all of them bad.” He nodded, as he looked up at you, hands still cupping your tits. 

“Mhmm, you thought about quitting for me? That’s not the Bradley Bradshaw I know.”

“I swear, honey, this time…this time was harder than usual.”

“Well, I’m all yours now,” you nodded, your hand stroking his cheek. 

Bradley hummed to himself, tilting his head to the side as he thought for a minute. He looked at you, watching as you bit your lower lip. The sight of you alone after so much time apart was enough to make him hard, but now it was becoming unbearable. He needed you. He craved you. 

“Upstairs, now,” he urged, nodding his head as you got off his lap.

You grinned to yourself as you headed up the stairs, walking just slowly enough to your bedroom so Bradley could catch the way your hips swayed with every step, your taut ass bouncing with each movement. It was enough to drive any man insane, but Bradley could barely contain himself. 

Fuck, he missed you.

He pushed you on to the bed, crawling on all fours as he hovered over your body with a wide grin plastered to his face. You placed a hand on his chest, steadying him as your smile faltered for a second. You held your breath for a moment before exhaling, nodding slowly as Bradley sat back on his knees for a minute. 

“Go easy on me, big guy, it’s been a long six months, I’m out of practice,” you teased, grinning at him.

“Shoot, honey, I thought you were gonna tell me you didn’t want me to-never mind, I’ll go easy on ya. I always do, don’t I?”

“Roo, you do the exact opposite of going easy.” You grinned, rolling your eyes at Bradley. 

Bradley repositioned himself over your body, smirking as he took in the sight of you again. His lips began trailing down your abdomen your shorts, sending chills running up and down your spine with every breathy kiss, every drag of his mustache against your skin. With a skillful hand, he popped the button on your shorts open, sitting up as he pulled them off of you. He hooked two fingers into the crotch of your lace trimmed underwear, shoving them out of the way as he ducked his head between your thighs. Feather-light kisses dotted your inner thighs before his mouth found your core. He flattened his tongue against your slit, running it up your folds slowly as he savoured everything he’d missed for the last six months. 

“Just as pretty as I remember it, fuck.”

His fingers spread your folds apart, giving him better access to your clit. The tip of his tongue traced shapes along it, pressing varying degrees of pressure into you, the tip of his nose pressing into your puffy cunt, swollen from how badly you’d been wanting him for the last six months. He mumbled something against your skin, his lips vibrating against your clit as he pressed another kiss to you. He sat himself up fully, smirking at you.

“Get up, pretty girl, I have an idea.”

You let out a whine in protest, sitting up on the bed as Bradley now laid down on his back. Shooting him a look, you raised your palms in protest, shaking your head at him.

“Bradley, you seriously stopped so I would give it to you instead?”

“What? No,” Bradley laughed, shaking his head as he gestured to his face. “Take a seat.”

“You want me to…?”

Bradley lifted his head up off the pillow, giving you a lustful stare, his eyebrows knitting together as he nodded his head. “Did I stutter? Take. A. Seat.”

You rolled your eyes, giving your head a shake as you slipped out of your underwear, dropping them to the floor. Climbing back on to the bed, you hovered yourself above Bradley’s mouth, looking down at him as you chewed on your lip. He shook his head, his mustache tickling at your inner thigh as he kissed up your leg. In one swift motion, he gripped your thighs tightly, pulling you down until his lips were directly under your dripping core, smirking as he murmured against your skin again. 

“That’s my girl. I’ve missed this pussy so fuckin’ much.” He grunts, nodding his head slightly as he buries his tongue into you, nose pressed to your clit. 

“Bradley!” you whimper, your eyes fluttering shut as you reached down, fingers tugging on his dark curls.

Bradley’s tongue worked into you at a breakneck speed, so fast that you wondered how he was able to breathe. His hands gripped your thighs tightly, blunt fingernails digging into your soft skin as he held you in place. His mouth worked on you relentlessly, refusing to let up until he had you a screaming, crying, pretty little mess, just how he (and you) liked it. 

“Bradley, Bradley, Bradley,” you babbled, unable to say anything other than his name as his tongue fucked into you. 

He grunted into your cunt again, mumbling words of praise into your skin. “Tastes so fuckin’ sweet, honey, so fuckin’ sweet.” He growled before delving his tongue into you again.

Your thighs began to shudder and shake, spasming as you felt your orgasm hit you harder than ever before. You shut your eyes, tears stinging as Bradley continued, not breaking his rhythm once as you came, his tongue quickly lapping at your arousal hungrily. He moved his mouth up to your clit, kissing at it with a couple of powerful sucks before pulling his mouth away. He let go of your thighs, a couple of darker marks forming on your skin from where he got carried away, gripping you a little too tightly. You got up, sitting on the bed, panting as you tried to find your mental clarity again. 

Bradley rolled onto his side and surveyed your thigh, pressing gentle kisses to the darkened marks on your skin in apology. Once you found your words again, his big brown eyes looked up at you from where he was laying on the bed. 

“Roo,” you nodded, placing a hand on his cheek, “I missed you so much.”

“I missed ya too, honey. Ain’t done with ya yet though.”

With that, Bradley quickly shimmied out of his denim shorts and boxers, kicking them off clumsily. He crawled across the bed, finding the spot between your thighs. His hands smoothed over your legs, lifting them up and hoisting them up onto his shoulders. You curved your knees around him as he aligned his hardened cock with your entrance, easing into you with a soft groan. 

“That’s my girl, taking me so well. You missed this cock, didn’t you? Missed me fillin’ ya up, huh, pretty girl?” He purred, pausing as he felt your walls stretching around him. 

“Yes, baby,” you nodded, whining as he stretched you. 

God, he was right. You did miss him. You missed him more than you wanted to let on, you missed his presence, his voice, the silly things he’d do that pissed you off, you missed the way he made love to you, passionate and caring, full of praise, making it his life’s mission to make you feel good. He took it as seriously as his work - calculated movements, using the same precision and laser-focus he did in the air.

Your eyelids fluttered shut again as you felt him pull out of you, pushing himself back into you again with a powerful thrust of his hips. Bradley tutted his tongue against the roof of his mouth, refusing to move again. “Nuh-uh, baby girl, keep those pretty eyes on me. Want you lookin’ at me when I fuck you, got it?”

You nodded dumbly as he pounded into your entrance again, making your head spin as your walls clenched around him. He began thrusting into you, starting slowly as he found his rhythm again, savouring every movement, every inch of you that he’d missed over the last six months. Bradley gently pressed his palm into your pubic bone as he thrusted harder, faster into you, the sensation heightening with the added pressure he was giving. You could tell by the knot turning in your stomach that it wasn’t going to be long before you were coming for him again, and if Bradley had his way, it wouldn’t be the last time you did tonight. 

“Feelin’ so fuckin’ good, pretty girl. That’s my girl. That’s my pretty girl,” he praised, his confident demeanor melting away, leaving Bradley a pussy drunk, babbling mess, unable to say anything other than your praises, repeating your name over and over as if it was a spoken prayer.

“‘M not gonna last, honey,” Bradley shook his head as he moaned breathlessly.

Fuck.

His breath hitched in his throat as his hips slowed, stilling as he came inside of you. Bradley let out the deepest grunt you’d ever heard — the past six months of missing you drawing out of him along with it. Ducking his head down as he tried to catch his breath, his curls slicked and stuck to his forehead with sweat, he panted heavily, gently letting your legs go as you dropped them back down to the bed. He looked up at you, deep brown eyes fixed on your features as he nodded breathlessly.

“Fuck, I missed you, honey. I missed this, and you, and home.”

“Welcome home, Rooster. Welcome home.”

[bunnycvnts]

need you to write me some perv rafe 😌

pairing: perv!rafe x unaware!reader

summary: rafe has a small obsession with you and finds himself with the perfect opportunity to get closer to you.

warnings: pervy rafe, sexual themes, sorta??dark content, male masturbation, panty stealing (is this a warning LMFAO?)

rafe knew you. well. he knew of you. from glances in the hallway when you passed his room, headed towards sarah’s, small conversations when you joined family dinners, and the occasional interaction during parties when you wanted to score some coke on the low.

he knew you from the image he formed in his head. the one that told him your short passing glances were longing, filled with desire. that your hand brushing his at the dinner table was a sign to spread you open on the wooden table and fuck you. that you buying coke from him when there were many dealers in figure eight was because you needed an excuse to talk to him, not just because he was sarah’s older brother and would give you it a little cheaper than most.

you took up far more space in his brain than any of his little sisters friends should. more than any normal girl should. he’d never been so hell-bent on creating and imagining interactions, forcing them to happen, and putting himself in the right places at the right time if it meant he’d see you. countless nights he’d stay awake, hearing your giggles from across the hall while his hand was wrapped around his cock, jerking it to the sound of your voice that would slip between the cracks in the doorframe. rafe couldn’t be by the pool when you’d swim, his length creating an obvious print in the wet swim shorts that clung to his skin at the sight of your body in a small bikini, soaking wet with water dripping down your soft skin. he couldn’t look at you for too long at parties, his focus being solely on you rather than paying customers, even if you were halfway across the room in your own world.

it was safe to say he was obsessed, but it was okay, right? because you totally wanted him too. at least, that’s what he told himself.

for you, he’d always been sarah’s scary older brother that would sometimes stand a little too close, but offered you free coke at parties and would drive you home late at night, even though you only lived a block away and could definitely walk home.

rafe saw the perfect opportunity to get a little closer to you one afternoon after he’d been spending the day by the pool with you and sarah. you’d wrapped your towel around you, saying you were gonna go shower before dinner. sarah waved you off, determined to soak up every bit of sun she could. rafe watched you walk inside, water droplets leaking off of you with each step and the fat of your ass bouncing lightly, visible even through the towel.

he’d quickly sat up, throwing out an excuse of a phone call to his sister before following you inside. his steps were faster than yours, catching up to you quickly.

“hey, yo-you can use my shower if you want? that way, you don’t have to worry about wheezie or sarah trying to walk in.” he tried to sound casual, despite stumbling over his first words. you thought about it for a second before agreeing, having grown tired of trying to split sarah’s bathroom after pool days. rafe guided you upstairs, relishing in the fact that you were now standing in his room in only a small bikini and were about to be showering in his shower. you’d smell like him afterwards; his body wash would linger on your skin, and your sweet vanilla scent would linger in his bathroom. just the way he thought it should.

playing a nice host, he grabbed you a bath towel and turned the shower on for you before closing the door with a small smirk on his lips. you were quick in the shower, only washing your body and vaguely browsing through his products. when you hopped out, you realized you didn’t have your actual clothes. with a towel wrapped around your naked body and a frown on your face, you peeked through the cracked door and asked rafe to grab you your pink beach bag from sarah’s room as it held your clothes.

his eyes widened at the sight of you, but he nodded and left the room, pushing into sarah’s where he spotted your baby pink bag, your name clearly embroidered on the side. he checked over his shoulder quickly, ensuring he was alone, and opened the bag. he shuffled through it before coming across a little white thong that had a small bow on the front. rafe groaned as he shoved it in his pocket, grabbed the bag, and headed back to his room. he watched as you closed the bathroom door again and came out moments later in a sundress that showed off your tanlines from the bikini top, saying a small thank you and leaving the room entirely.

rafe took a moment to breathe, listening to your footsteps pad down the stairs. when he was sure you were gone, he rushed into the bathroom and stripped, your panties clenched in his fist. once he was under the warm shower water, your sweet scent filled the room, making him groan. his cock was throbbing, and his balls were aching for release. the fist clutching your white thong soon wrapped around his aching cock, now soaked and sudsy with his body wash. his grip was tight as he got himself off, your name spilling from his lips with every thrust of his hand. seeing something that once was worn by you wrapped around his length, your panties nonetheless, was surely enough to push him right to the edge. all he could think of was your sweet cunt dripping wetness into the soft cotton, him spreading your folds open and exploring every inch with his tongue, his cock lined with your tight entrance before pushing inside you and experiencing your warm wet cunt for the first time. what really sent him soaring over the edge, hot spurts of cum shooting from his thick cock and onto the shower wall, was your voice on the other side of the door, accompanied by a light knock. “rafe, are you sure you grabbed all the clothes that were in the bag? some things are missing.”

taglist: @sunkissedrafe @cxsmiclore @mousie101

[yawnderu]

Final Girl — Slasher!Keegan P. Russ x Reader (1/?)

A word before we start: screaming sounds a whole lot like laughter.

Nothing beats the paranoia of a high man. Rough, calloused hands shove you into the dark wooden closet, whisper-yelling orders to keep your damn mouth shut before the though of protesting could even occur inside your little drunken head. Everything is spinning inside around the room, too focused on the light sensation in your head to be able to connect the dots until it's too late.

“Listen, man, we don't have anyt—” Life can be unpredictable. One moment you're having fun with your friends in a rented cabin in the woods, and the other, your best friend is being shoved into the floor by a much bigger man, the loud sounds of his shouts and struggling instinctively forcing you to put a palm over your mouth, trying your best not to scream along your dying friend.

A quiet whimper makes its way out of your throat the moment a long, bloodied machete is raised in the air, horrified wide eyes meeting yours as the panic fully sets in for him. It's like seeing a trainwreck yet being unable to stop watching, even when your brain is screaming at you to close your eyes. To save yourself from the trauma, to protect your psyche, to let the last image of your best friend be him alive—

Hack.

The masked killer lands heavy blows one right after the other on the figure underneath him, blood splashing all over the room, forcing another muffled whimper out of your lip as the man hacks away at your friend's dead body, seemingly getting more and more excited with every single new wound he's forcing.

The house is quiet— way too quiet for a group of 5 drunk people. You were previously in the bathroom, too preoccupied throwing your guts out in the bathroom to hear any noise through the loud gags and the ringing in your ears. The man's heavy breathing fills the room, making you subconsciously hold your own, not wanting to get any of his attention and be his next victim. They say ignorance is bliss, yet not knowing if the man is aware of your presence only makes the black pit of dread grow in your stomach.

His movements are slow and calculated, letting go of your friend's mangled up corpse, the sound of the machete being pulled out of his flesh almost makes you gag, secretly thankful that you emptied your stomach earlier. Baby-blue eyes scan the room with a precision that almost seemed robotic, instinctive, like a predator who has always succeeded at catching his prey.

Your heart goes down to your stomach when his cold gaze connects with yours through the thin wooden blinds, masked head tilting to the side in what seems to be sick amusement. He inches closer to you, his footsteps surprisingly quiet for a man his size, eyes crinkling up with his pupils dilating quickly, black almost taking over the pale blue.

His gloved hand raises slowly towards the doorknob, maintaining eye contact with your tear-filled eyes— only for his head to snap up towards the sound of a crack on the wooden floor coming from the kitchen. He gives the closet one last look before running towards the sound, the sickening sound of your friend's blood and guts dripping down his machete and clothes following right after him.

Thrashing and more screaming is heard from the other side of the house, snapping you out of it enough to realize it's your only chance to escape the same fate your friends met. Your shaky hand twists the doorknob slowly, not daring to look at the dead body right in front of the door— the body of someone who died just to protect you.

A shaky whimper escapes your lips when you accidentally kick the limb corpse, shaking your head a few times to snap out of it before you move away from him, staring ahead with an unfaltering sense of dread eating you from within.

Your steps are wide and calculated, sobered up the moment the masked killer started attacking your friend right in front of you. From what little you can see thanks to the moonlight seeping through the windows, the entire place looks out of a horror movie, blood staining every single wall, dripping down at such a slow pace that it almost seems like it's God's way of taunting you.

Relief finds place into the pit of dread the moment you can see the entrance door, finally feeling like you're able to breathe again— like you're not leaving behind any of your friends who may have survived the brutal attack. Guilt has no place in survival, you convince yourself within seconds as your shaky hand reaches for the doorknob, only to be slammed against the wall, a gloved hand covering your mouth to muffle the bloodcurdling screams that leave your lips.

You thrash against his rough hold, earning nothing other than a much harder hair pull, only stopping your thrashing the moment you feel cold metal pressing against your throat. Your eyes close as tears fall down your cheeks, pooling on the soft fabric of the gloves of the man holding you against your will.

“And where the fuck do you think you're going, hm?” He turns you around forcefully, pining your body against the wall with his own, tilting his head to the side just to taunt you as his sharp machete presses harder against your neck. His free hand comes up to caress your cheek, teasingly spreading your friend's blood all over your cheeks, forcing a choked sob out of you.

“Aww... Now you're all quiet. Poor pretty, broken princess...” His tone holds nothing but fake pity and pure amusement, sickly getting off on your pathetically horrified expression. His body presses against you harder as he looms over you, only leaning down to press his masked face against the crook of your neck, not bothering to hide the way he's inhaling your smell as the back of his gloved hand keeps absentmindedly running over your cheeks in an action that would be soothing, had he not been the man who killed your loved ones.

“I'll let you go.” Your breath hitches at his words, not believing him for a single second— not when you can feel his boner pressing against your stomach, his hips subtly rubbing against you to get more friction while he wonders if it's truly worth it to let you go instead of sending you home in a box.

“But you say a word about this to anyone... and I mean anyone, princess, and I swear to God, I'll gut you like a fucking fish.” His words take a bitter tone after he calls you princess, though the hold on the machete softens slightly as he hears your choked sobs, knowing the only thing preventing you from nodding vigorously like a well-trained dog is the blood-bathed steel pressing to your neck.

“Yeah? Do you promise?” The machete is moved out of the way, yet he still keeps you pinned against the wall so you don't try to run away. His pinky finger is raised up to your face mockingly, giving you an expecting look that takes you a few seconds too long to understand. Your shaky hand comes up to his, intertwining your pinky with his in a childish promise, a whimper leaving your lips the moment he applies enough pressure to make it hurt before releasing you.

He moves out of the way after a few tantalizing seconds, nodding his head towards the door, watching you scurry away like a kicked puppy, his entire body itching to go after you— and deciding against it last second, knowing he'll be seeing you soon.

[NEXT]

Author's note: The art published in all chapters belongs to @moosch!! We're both very excited about this project and to expand on something we've been talking about almost daily for months, I hope you guys enjoy it as much as we do. <3

[strawbeerossi]

Dress

Pairing: Husband!Spencer x Wife!Reader

Description: When you’re getting ready for an event over at Rossi’s, you express how you feel you don’t look your best in the dress you had your heart set on. Spencer is gonna do his best to show you just how beautiful that you are.

Content/Warnings: Body image issues, full body kissing, oral (f receiving), praise, pet names, just some good love and fluffy sex.

Word Count: 1.9K

Kinktober Day One: Body Worship

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

The dress looked so beautiful whenever you bought it. The black silhouette did good at hugging your frame, highlighting every dip and curve. Most people would’ve loved to wear a dress like this one, to steal all the attention of the night and feel nothing short of a beauty queen. It was elegant, a smooth velvet that showed poise. However, it didn’t really work out that way for you the more you looked at it without the presence of wine and the loving encouragement of your friends.

That’s why you found yourself standing in place, trying to smooth out what you deemed as imperfections that just wouldn’t go away. This was a nightmare.

“We are going to be late, my love.” Spencer called from his spot in the shared bedroom, looking in the standing mirror on the back of our door as he was fixing his tie. Formal events at Dave’s house were always a fun time. You’d actually managed to feel fancier than normal, the champagne and pleasant conversation adding onto that. You were also quite fond of the idea of socializing with some of the people who had known Dave or even the other members of the team at any step in their lives.

“I think I’m gonna have to pretend to be sick..” You sighed while making your way out of the bathroom, heels clicking against the wooden tile and catching Spencer’s attention. “Why would you pretend to be sick?” He asked, voice filled with concern as he was approaching you, his hands gently cupping your warm cheeks.

Now there are many answers that you could’ve come up with to deter from the overwhelming amount of insecurity festering inside of your mind and body from the dress that you so desperately needed to buy online. Marrying a profiler meant that he would be able to call you out on the lies.

You opted for honesty.

“I just..” Your eyes were trained on the mirror across the room. There was hatred for the sight looking back at you. In a way, it felt as if you were drowning in poor self esteem. Fuck this dress. Why did you have to pick one right off the rack without trying it on first? JJ told you that it was sleek, sexy. It felt the complete opposite. “I don’t like the way I look in this dress. I don’t have anything else to wear over to Dave’s house and I don’t know if I could show my face wearing this.”

There was no doubt that Emily, JJ, Tara and Penelope would be elegantly dressed with flattering attire that highlighted every positive about their bodies. While all having different body types, it was easy to see the beauty in each of them. They all had such well defined features, their bodies being sculpted from the finest stone. They were all four Persephone reincarnated.

Then there was you, the awkwardly shaped one who never felt like she fit in. Your hair wasn’t as nice as theirs, your teeth weren't as nice and perfect.. Sometimes you found yourself wondering why Spencer chose to marry you whenever he had such fine women on his team. The self deprecating thoughts were cut off by Spencer, a soft shushing sound leaving his lips. You’d been crying for a minute without realizing.

“I think,” He began while leaning forward to press his lips against yours. “That you look,” He continued on with his soft, sweet kisses as they moved to your jaw. “Absolutely,” His lips were soon on the flesh of your neck as he let his arms wrap around your waist. “Ravishing.” He finally finished, his hands running over your hips in an effort to soothe those wandering thoughts.

“You don’t believe me.” Spencer’s voice stayed steady, a frown forming on his face while you were blinking away a few tears.

“It’s okay, I will have to just show you just how beautiful you really are.” With his hands moving to the zipper of the dress, you could feel your cheeks heating up. “We are going to be late,” You spoke while letting your eyes fall shut as the wet kisses were slowly trailing down to your shoulders. “I think David would understand. Besides, I can promise you that it’ll be an all night affair.” He chuckled. Which, yeah.. That made sense. David Rossi could keep an event going all night if he truly wanted.

As the black dress pooled by your feet, you offered a shy smile as the kisses continued, your skin being filled with warmth from all of the love radiating off of Spencer’s lips from each kiss that was littered across the skin of your shoulders and collarbones. “Besides.. I’ve been punctual for the past fifteen years in every aspect. I think that I can be late just this once.” He chuckled, hands coming up to unclasp the black bra you’d picked out, letting it fall with the dress before he was lifting you in his arms, prompting you to let your arms to quickly wrap around his shoulders. “We shouldn’t take too long anyway.”

Your body hit the clean duvet when you were laid back on the bed, the cover still smelling of the sea breeze fabric softener that you’d become so obsessed with. Your husband’s lips continue to trail wet kisses across your skin, his hands running up your body as he was on his knees beside you. “You’re so beautiful, my love.” His words were soft, sweet. “Especially laid out like this for me.” You’d been nearly bare, panties separating your wet pussy from his loving gaze. His hands massaged the skin of your hips, lips littering more kisses around your chest area. “My perfect girl, I don’t know how a guy like me could be so lucky.” Love dripped onto your skin akin to the feeling of the bright sun shining against your skin on the hottest days. Your response came in the form of a soft breath, feeling his tongue flick over your right nipple.

His tongue flicked over the sensitive bud, the male humming in delight as he could feel it hardening at the wet muscle massaging over it. He knew the sensitivity of your body, his hands kneading at the warm flesh of your breasts. You were reduced to soft moans, encouragement for more as your fingers tangled in the once neatly styled curls. “Fuck, Spence.” Your words were a melody to his ears, the male not always being so fond of partaking in swearing or really listening to it. However, whenever you did? He enjoyed it. That meant he was doing his job in the intimate positions that you both had found yourselves in.

Pulling off with a loud ‘pop’ filling the room, the honey colored irises were focused on your face, still contorted in pleasure as his hands were massaging your tits with his large hands. He repeated the same action with the opposite nipple, one hand dropping and his fingertips trailing down your skin, the goosebumps on your body standing at attention as his thumb was pressing against your clothed clit, hips wiggling in an effort for more.

Who was Spencer to deny his amazing wife the pleasure that she so desperately deserved?

Even if he didn’t want to, the male was detaching his mouth from your chest while his long fingers were hooking into the waistband of your panties. Your hips lifted out of instinct, body feeling hotter than ever as you were desperate to feel more of the touch you craved in the place that you needed it most.

After the panties were tossed somewhere behind him, the male let his hands carefully push your thighs apart, eyes focused on your slick cunt that looked more beautiful than he could put into words. His mouth was agape at the sight, those pretty honey eyes slowly disappearing in the black of his pupils.

“Fuck,” The swear was rare, yet hearing it fall from his voice in the dulcet tone never failed to surprise you.

“We’ve got twenty minutes before Dave starts calling,”Spencer spoke while glancing at the alarm clock, eyes falling on the mouthwatering sight nestled between your thighs. “So, think you can do it?”

The question was rhetorical. He knew by now how your body operated.

Before you could answer, his face was disappearing between your thighs, lips pressing kisses to your inner thighs as he sucked and nibbled at your skin. Leaving hickies between your legs was the best place, mainly because they were for his eyes only. It wasn't something unprofessional to where you couldn’t go to work without covering up. Less headache. The man was practical.

His tongue lapped over your clit as he was delving in, eyes fluttering shut. His favorite place had to be between your thighs. Stressful case? He’s licking and sucking your wet cunt from the safety of your hotel room. You want intimacy but he’s not in the mood for sex himself? He’s disappearing under the sheets.

He was intoxicated by your sweetness, drinking in every ounce of arousal that you were so happily giving him. His tongue ran alongside your velvety inner walls, your pussy spasming from the muscle that was darting in and out of you, having to alternate between your clit and your core.

Your hands were tangled in the now messy curls, your back arching off the mattress while the sounds of your moans and cries filled the room in addition to the suckling and groans coming from your husband, who was so focused on licking every inch of you.

You felt the familiar warmth deep in your stomach, a knot tightening inside of you as your pulsating walls were closing in on Spencer’s tongue. With your hands shoving his face deeper into your weeping pussy. “I’m gonna cum, Spence.” You panted out, eyes fluttering shut as your head tilted back against the pillow behind your head.You know that you couldn’t hold back any longer, your body giving every indication that it was ready to unleash a wave of ecstasy.

The man licking and sucking didn’t let up, his hands having to hold your hips down as your orgasm was building. The more you wiggled and thrashed, the more that he knew that it was coming.

“I-” You tried to get out, however that didn’t work out in your favor as a moan was chasing what was supposed to come out of your mouth. Your legs were shaking as you were finally hitting release, your nails digging into your husband’s scalp while your mouth was agape.

The warm muscle was licking and cleaning up your thighs before you were seeing your husband’s face again. His chin was wet and his hair was an absolute mess as he rubbed your thighs.

“Let's get you in that pretty dress and get to Rossi’s.” He breathed, letting his teeth playfully bite at your inner thigh before he was pushing himself up.

Which you didn’t argue, the post sex haze making it difficult to speak. Even after you were redressed and Spencer had his hair fixed once more, he was coming to wrap his arms around your waist as he noticed you in front of the mirror.

“Feeling better? Cause I promise that you are going to be the most gorgeous woman there, you’re gonna have all of Rossi’s friends flirting with you.” He mused, nuzzling his nose against your cheek as you let out an airy laugh.

“Let’s get going, hmm? I need my beauty queen to make me look good.” He offered his arm out to you as they linked together, his free hand on your arm as you both made your way downstairs.

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR TWENTY ONE

in which you try everything you can to make eddie feel better after his encounter with chrissy - to make him forget, to make him feel cherished, to make him feel worthy.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, a single use of Y/N, smut (p in v), oral (m receiving), voyeurism, edging, good old fashioned ball worship if you squint, maybe some sub!eddie if you squint even harder, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 7.3k+

→ a/n: shout out to @hellfire--cult for the balcony idea. i knew i'd get them there at some point, little freaks. and everyone say thank you to @icallhimjoey for the early post 😏

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

21:00 ─────────────ㅇ── 24:00

HOUR TWENTY ONE - 12:00 PM

STEVE-O: why do you guys suck so much at providing photographic proof of being alive? seriously

You’ve been staring at Steve’s text ever since the two of you arrived back at the apartment. You’d reply soon enough, but for now, the message was a distraction.

Eddie wasn’t speaking to you.

Not in a brooding sense, but in a way that let you know he was too far gone in his own head right now for you to reach him. When you’d said those words to him, when you’d admitted that you found him worth it, you saw his eyes glaze over slowly. You’d watched in real time as he slipped away from you. It might be that he doesn’t believe you, it might be guilt that continues to gnaw at him for a past that can’t be changed — whatever it is, you hate it.

The easy solution would be to send Steve the photos from the cafe, but you’d already tried that. Your thumb had hovered over that photo of Eddie with a mouthful of croissant, still bright and brilliant before all his waves of self-hatred had gotten ahold of him, and you just couldn’t. It was selfish, it was ridiculous, but you couldn’t share that piece of him with others. Some small, childish, hopeless bit of you needed to cling to the man in that photo and keep him safely inside your chest. It wasn’t a new version to your friends, they’ve always tried to defend Eddie and convince you he wasn’t all bad, but it was new to you. It was all so unexpected and unforeseen, the look behind his golden eyes as he seemingly looked right past the camera and right into you. 

No, you couldn’t send that photo. It was for your eyes only. A souvenir you had greedily stolen. 

Eddie had excused himself to the bathroom when you two arrived at the apartment, and this time, there was no dirty intentions behind it. You left well enough alone — he needed a moment to be by himself and that was fine. You could entertain yourself until he was ready to come back to you, back down to Earth. Right now, you were currently picking apart an almond croissant as if it were the most interesting thing you’d ever laid eyes on. 

Croissant dissection — see? You absolutely could distract yourself in order to give him space. Absolutely no sarcasm there.

You finally sigh when you see a message bubble pop up with three little dots, signifying Steve is typing again. You don’t give him the time to properly finish out his message before you click on your camera icon, snap a shot of the picked apart croissant in front of you, and send a message with the image attached.

YOU: we were eating breakfast, eddie’s been in the bathroom. happy, mom?

STEVE-O: he’s been in the bathroom for an entire hour? 

YOU: oh, you know how you men get with toilet time. 

Despite the playful tone of your texts, your face is completely flat, chest still heavy as you think about Eddie behind the wooden door. Should you be giving Eddie this amount of space? What if it’s doing more damage than good?

You’re about to stand from the stool you’ve occupied for nearly ten minutes now and go try your hand at knocking, try and remind Eddie that you’re still here, when Steve’s next text comes through. 

STEVE-O: stop bullshitting me. what happened? 

You swear you taste metallic blood from how hard you bite down on your bottom lip, staring at the mocking message. You can’t even begin to explain to Steve what has transpired, not just this last hour, but the entirety of the time. The parking garage, the joking marriage, Chrissy showing up, Eddie’s painful vulnerability – you can’t find the words to tell him about any of it. The same as you can’t find it in you to send the photo of Eddie in Betty’s. 

YOU: nothing happened. do you need any more proof than that?

He only reacts to your message with a thumbs up. You assume that means you’re in the clear, for now. 

When you exit your thread of messages with Steve, a new thread that has been started catches your eye. It’s a new number, no contact on it. The only message sent is from you – the photo of you with your coffee, head thrown back and eyes shut with a wide smile boosting your cheeks. 

Eddie’s phone number. 

You look at the photo of yourself for a while, trying to not cringe at your appearance. To you, you just looked ridiculous. You don’t understand why Eddie wanted this photo preserved so badly. Your smile is too wide, your eyes are mere slits from the way your cheeks were squishing up with joy, most of your makeup you’d started the night with has long since faded due to a multitude of activities. You don’t feel like anything special in this photo.

But Eddie had wanted it. He had deemed this moment in time of you as picture-worthy, had gone so far as to send it to himself so that he’d have this memory even if you deleted it from your phone. 

Before you think too hard on it, you tap on that line of numbers and add a proper contact profile to it. 

EDDIE. You keep the contact name simple, eager to get it out of the way as you move onto the next step. A contact photo. You don’t even have to ponder on it – in a flash, you’ve selected the picture of him with the croissant. 

You’re back on the thread of messages – or, at least, the singular message – and don’t stop yourself as your thumbs begin to fly over your keyboard.

YOU: why were the almond croissants almost sold out? 

To be fair, you didn’t even know if Eddie had his phone on him. That green message stares back at you for a few moments before you get your answer. 

EDDIE: Excuse me? 

He has his phone. You lift your head, looking at the closed door of the bathroom before glancing back down at your phone. 

YOU: because everyone went NUTS over them. 

You perk your ears and listen for any sign of life from down the hall. Anything. A scoff, a pitiful laugh, him calling you stupid aloud. You’ll take whatever he offers. 

It takes a moment, and you truly have to strain to hear it, but you can hear the laugh that would better pass as a sigh. 

EDDIE: Is that supposed to be a joke? 

YOU: ‘supposed to be’. excuse me, it was definitely a joke. and a very good one, at that. 

EDDIE: Debatable. 

You find yourself smiling down at the phone. Your neck aches from the way you keep glancing up suddenly at the door, silently pleading for him to come back out. To come out and fight with you, come out and bicker with you, come out and ignore you. Anything, for him to leave the bathroom and do anything but keep that door shut between you two. 

He doesn’t, so you send another bad joke. 

YOU: what did the customer say when they looked at the croissant? 

This time, he plays along. 

EDDIE: I don't know, what? 

YOU: what a BREADtaking sight. 

This time, you hear a more proper scoff come from within the bathroom. 

YOU: i heard that. don’t even try to tell me it wasn’t funny. 

EDDIE: I’m not laughing because they’re funny. I’m laughing because they’re BAD. 

YOU: bet you wouldn’t say that to my face. 

Immediately, you discard the phone, facedown on the counter as you look up to the door with unbridled hope. He could always ignore the comment, choose to not respond and continue to sulk away from you. It’s entirely possible – but you pray to every star in the sky that that isn’t what he’s going to do. 

Please come back out. Please, even if just to sit in silence with me. 

Your prayers are answered.

Slowly, painfully slowly, you hear shuffling on the other side of the door and await for the click of the door unlocking. It never comes, though – the door was never locked in the first place. He opens it, and you realize that the entire time, you could have stormed into the small room with him and demanded that he not hide away.

But you didn’t. You gave him space, gave him patience, and it’s clear he knows this as he comes out. 

His eyes are red. As if he’s been crying. 

“Hi,” you meekly say, taking in his face past those red-rimmed eyes. The tip of his nose is a fading shade of pink, as if he’s been rubbing it incessantly, and he sniffs for good measure as he turns the bathroom light off and walks to where you are. 

“Hi,” his voice is rough around the edges as he greets you back. He won’t look you in the eye once he’s within reach – his gaze remains downcast, and you catch him fiddling with a few of his rings. 

You hadn’t considered what you would do if you got this far. In every carefully considered scenario, you’d assumed he’d shut you out. You never expected him to come straight to you, as if seeking out comfort from you, without you having to beg it of him. 

His eyes catch the croissants on the counter, torn apart and lazily picked at. He’s about to open his mouth and say something about it, probably questioning what you had done to the poor pastry, but you don’t give him a chance. You’re quick to snatch up one of the pieces you’d been picking apart to snack on for yourself and hold it out to him. An olive branch, an offering – a reason for him to sit and stay for a while with you. 

He takes it tentatively, finally looking you in your eye again as he takes a small bite. It’s nothing compared to the bite he had taken when you’d snapped the photo of him, mere crumbs compared to that mouthful. 

“Did you just… massacre our croissants?” he questions, squinting his eyes down at the crime scene. 

You shift your body jokingly, failing at blocking him from seeing the mess you made, “Absolutely not. I have no clue what you’re talking about.” 

He almost cracks a grin, “Right. Of course. I must be imagining things.” 

“Wanna hear another pun?” you blurt out, suddenly nervous as he continues to stand before you. You hate the incessant need inside of your chest that calls for you to comfort him, to make this all better for him. 

“I feel like you’ll tell me one even if I say no,” he raises an eyebrow at you, “So, sure.” 

“Why did the croissant go to the doctor?”

He hums, trying to peer over your shoulder again at the croissants you were badly hiding, “Let me guess. Is it because you tore it apart mercilessly?” 

“No,” you scoff, reaching behind you to grab another piece to offer to him as well as one of your own, “It was because he was feeling crummy, dumb ass.” 

A crack of a smile. It’s miniscule but there. It makes that terrible pun worth it, just to see him not looking quite as defeated is worth all the stars in the sky at this point for you. 

You’d certainly been the reason for his unhappiness in the past, and you surely would be again at some point. It all feels so inevitable; just as he believes that he can only bring you misery, you can’t imagine yourself bringing him joy. A belief that strikes something in your chest, something albeit more painful than you’d care to admit, but it’s true. You’ve crossed a line, you’ve changed everything, but the past still remains. 

You aren’t perfect. Neither is Eddie.

Heartbreak is imminent, but for this brief moment, you can make him smile. You don’t need to worry about the next time you’ll piss him off or upset him, you just need to focus on making that twitch on his lips more permanent. 

“I meant what I said earlier, by the way,” you decide to rip off the bandaid as he moves as if to sit beside you. Quickly, your words make him freeze. A bad sign, but you push through, because he needs to hear these things, “You deserve good things, Eddie. Good people, good things- you just… you deserve those things in your life.” 

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

He’s turning away from you. Turning and heading to the living room, walking away from you.

You don’t let him. In an instant, you get onto your feet and follow him, continuing despite him acting as if he’s finished with the conversation. You’re not.

“You’re a good person, Eddie,” you insist, reaching out for him before he makes it to the couch, “Don’t walk away from me.”

He spins easily in your grip. “Just because you say something, doesn’t make it true, sweetheart.”

He’s back to saying it like a curse. Like it’s a harmful title. As if it’s not a privilege to you and all your metaphors to hear that nickname fall from his lips. 

Right before your eyes, his defenses are on the rise. Brick by brick, he’s slowly reforming those walls to separate the two of you. Instead of defeat, instead of acceptance, it just makes you angry.

“Stop doing that,” you say quietly, carefully, firmly.

“Stop doing what?”

“That. Pushing me away. Locking me out,”  you tighten your hand on his bicep and watch the way his nostrils flare, “I fucking hate it.”

“Despite what you believe,” he takes a step closer to you, “Not everything I do is meant to piss you off.” 

“That’s not what I’m saying, and we both know it,” you can feel his muscles tense beneath your touch.

This time, his smile that emerges is cold. But you can still see the rubbage left by his tears — pink water lines and a new puffiness around his eyes. His words and his sudden cool demeanor can’t hurt you when you see it for what it is.

“Clearly we both don’t know it,” he chastised you, “We are very rarely on the same page. This isn’t a damn exception. You don’t have to prove your point, it doesn’t matter.”

He’s a wounded animal, striking out. He’s letting Chrissy’s words get to him.

“You’re worth i-“

“Don’t,” One of his hands shoot out to grip your waist, “Don’t fucking say that. Please. Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.” 

He didn’t believe you. 

“I meant it,” you whisper, anger shaking out of your grasp inch by inch as you realize that your words can’t break through to him, “I mean it. You’re worth it, to me, to St-“

“This isn’t about Steve,” he cuts you off, “It’s not about Steve, or Nancy, or Robin, or fucking Argyle. No need to play dumb anymore.” 

It’s about you.

You both know it. For once, contradictory to what he’d just claimed, you’re both on the same page. And like he said, no need to play dumb. 

“You’re worth it to me,” you say it with more confidence this time, “You’re a good person to me.” 

“How can you say that?” he laughs out, void of amusement, “How can you say shit like that after everything we’ve been through?”

How can you not?

You only squeeze his bicep tighter, and he returns the action by gripping your hip harsher. “Because I mean it. I believe it. Whether you do or not.” 

For a moment, the cracks in his armor expose themselves. 

“You shouldn’t,” his voice should waver, “You shouldn’t believe those things, Y/N. You should hate me.” 

“But I don’t,” And I never did.

“But you don’t,” he echoes.

You’ve done the opposite of what you had wanted. His smile is gone, that sadness creeping back up. You hate that. You don’t hate him — you hate that world of mourning behind his eyes, that defeat that brings his shoulders down and makes his grip on you falter. So you do the only thing you can think of to distract him. Make him forget.

“Make me hate you.” 

His eyes widen briefly, “Excuse me?”

“Make me hate you,” you practically beg of him, “Show me why you’re such a bad person and I’ll let this go. I’ll drop the conversation, we can- Fuck, we can forget this entire morning happened. Make me hate you, Eddie, and I’ll stop reminding you that I don’t.” 

His fingers curl back into you, slowly and gently, as his brows furrow. He’s considering what you’ve just said — more than that, you can see him trying to untangle all the hidden meanings behind it.

“And how do you suggest I do that?” his voice is low and calculated. 

You shrug, stepping forward, letting your lips get even closer to his, “Not my problem. Just make me.” 

The fingers are no longer gentle as he pulls you into him, finally catching onto the emphasis you place on those two little words.

Make me.

When his lips meet yours, they’re rough and brutal, taking greedily what they want from you. The only thing on your mind is making him forget. Make him forget, carry the load for him — they’re both more important than making him smile for now. Both these driving needs burn brighter in your chest because it’s clear that’s what he needs. 

You’re willing to give him whatever he needs right now.

“You want me to make you hate me, baby?” he mumbled against your lip, practically drinking in the way you gasp as he starts to pull back, “Is that really what you want?”

It’s what you want. “Yes.” 

And maybe you do too, when he leans back in to bite your lip. There will be another time for you to convince him with words that you find him to be worth it. Both hands from wrap around you and rough start to guide you back towards that fucking couch.

“Not the couch,” you suddenly protest, digging your heels into the carpet at the center of his living room, “Anywhere but the couch.” 

And oh, the way he’s looking at you in that moment might be your new favorite thing. Your new favorite color is his eyes as they sparkle with a bit of life that had been missing since the coffee shops encounter. Your new favorite sound is the silence that encases the little breath he lets out. Your new favorite movie is watching him move in slow motion as his eyes dart behind you, towards the door to his balcony, before his lips finally curl up with a hint of the genuine warmth that had been hidden behind his walls.

“Anywhere?” he teases, beginning to walk you backwards.

You nod, grinning right back at him.

“I think I have an idea.” 

If you had known twenty one hours ago that Eddie Munson, your sworn enemy, would have you out on his public balcony and on your knees for him in only a matter of time, past you would have….

Well, you don’t really care what past you would have done or thought anymore. You’re making him forget, yes, all while making yourself forget. You don’t care what you, twenty one hours ago, would or wouldn’t do as you let the past slip through your fingers so eagerly. All you can focus on is the dig of concrete against your knees, the way Eddie’s hands grip the railing as he leans against it, and the way the early afternoon sun forms a halo around him as you look up through fluttering lashes.

You just want to make him feel good. Every action is intentional, doing everything in your power to erase whatever storming thoughts had been haunting him so cruelly since Chrissy had so carelessly said what she had. You want to make him feel worthy. You want to make him feel loved.

Loved. You certainly didn’t love him — you couldn’t possibly, could you? He wouldn’t let you. You wouldn’t let yourself. But for now, you could play pretend; you could worship his body, drag his shirt out of the way and place playful kisses across his hips, and you could pretend that only this moment exists. 

“You wanna know what makes me such a bad person?” he sighs out as you let your teeth graze his skin, shoulders rolling to shake off that shiver you elicit from him, “This. The fact that this is all I can fucking think about.”

“Hm,” you can only hum in response, nails taking over the denim of the jeans he currently wore. You walk your fingers up his thighs, moving closer and closer to his zipper. Your mouth is nearly watering at the prospect of worshiping him. 

And the fact that any neighbor could walk out at any given moment and catch the two of you. You should probably insist on it being fast, on him being quiet, but the thought sends a thrill through the pit of your stomach. Your thighs clench and your cunt aches at the thought of being caught. 

You want to do more than make him bite back mere moans of your name. You want to make him scream.

Suddenly, a hand tangles into the roots of your hair, pulling back and making you focus on him again.

“Eyes on me,” he instructs. Once you focus on him and only him, he continues, loosening his grip and letting those fingertips rub at your scalp soothingly, “You know why you should hate me? For all the nights I pictured this.”

“Yeah?” you smile innocently, playing along. He can talk all he wants, you know once you get your mouth on him, he’ll be lucky to remember his own name. “How many nights, hm? Tell me all about them, pretty boy.”

You catch the wobble in his knees, the way his breathing picks up, the brilliant shade of ivory his knuckles stretch to. You lean back on your haunches, and the hand in your hair slips as he glowers down at you. 

“What are you-”

“Take off your shirt,” you calmly command.

“Excuse me?” 

“Your shirt. I want it off.”

His hand that was once tangled against your scalp now comes down to your face, movement slow but not hesitant as he pinches your chin. His thumb tugs on your bottom lip, and you let out, even making a show of letting your tongue peek out to tap at it. “And who said you were calling the shots?” 

“I did,” you put it simply, completely removing your hands from him now, “Take off the shirt, or I’ll leave you out here with blue balls.” 

You close your lips around the end of his thumb and his knuckles dig in deeper to the skin below your chin as you suck subtly. He chuckles, but you can hear just how breathless he goes at the small action, even as he keeps up the act with a hard press of his thumb on your lower lip. Your mouth hangs open for him, waiting patiently for his next move. 

A game of chess, an exchange of power, a fight for dominance. All the lines of who is and isn’t in control are blurred. 

“Have you always been so mean, baby?” he taunts, trailing what spit you’d left behind on his thumb along your lip. 

His movement stops when your lips spread into a provocative smile, “I learned from the best, didn’t I?” 

The retort had potential to backfire. You wait for smoke and glory, for him to pull away from you further. He’d slam down a brick right in front of your face, lay the mortar to leave you high and dry. He’d push you away, and you’d have to retreat, tail tucked between your legs in the shame of trying when it came to him. 

No smoke, no glory. He secedes, but makes no move to add to his walls, only removing his hand from your face and taking off the shirt. Just as you had told him to. 

“Better?” he asks as he makes a show of tossing the shirt to the other side of the balcony. It could have even flown over the railing, for all you paid attention to the scrap of clothing. Maybe some innocent bystander is on the streets below, confused to all Hell as to why it’s raining obscure band t-shirts. 

You’re just a bit too distracted to consider that right now. 

With Eddie’s torso revealed, all words seem to evade you. You catch the sweat beginning to gather across his sternum, watching the way he’s flushing beneath your gaze, reveling in the pink chest exposed to you as the blush crawls wider. Instantly, your original purpose is forgotten, the primal urge to pepper kisses and bites alike across his skin almost lifting you up off your sore knees. You want to leave bruises – you want to make him scream, you want to mark him up, you want to make him feel worthy. 

You stay on your knees, but compromise with all your wants as you lift up and stretch a bit. Your lips start their trail a bit lower than you (or Eddie) would have liked, taking their time to get familiar with the spanse of his rib cage first. You don’t nip with teeth, not yet. Just chaste kisses, lining each bone you can hardly feel residing beneath the skin, feeling his lungs expanding against your affection. Your tongue swipes alongside one of his side tattoos, a large and detailed dragon you hadn’t paid much mind to before. Every time you’d seen him shirtless, you’d been a bit distracted.

Not now. Now, you’re focused, determined to learn every curve and dip there is to explore on Eddie. You want to know him better than the back of your hands, memorize him more intricately than your own palms. After all, in order to worship a deity, you must know them. 

You return back to the center line of his abdomen, kisses chasing after one another, even taking the time to suck his skin between your teeth but never bite down. You pause once your lips rest right beneath his navel, the tip of your nose brushing that rough patch of hair that leads down to your end destination. Your hands reach for his belt, toying with the buckle.

Through heavy lashes, you look up at him, staring down at you in awe, “You know, you’re not doing a very good job at making me hate you, pretty boy. Think I might just have to worship you instead.”

A deity of your own making. A deity for your own taking. 

With skill, your hands undo the buckle effortlessly. You unbutton and unzip his jeans as if you’ve done this part a million times, as if you’d spent every single Sunday of the last year right here and doing exactly this. On your knees, worshiping him. This balcony, for all its exposure, certainly knows how to serve as a holy place. 

He opens his mouth to respond, but you’re impatient. You still haven’t left him speechless, meaning you still hadn’t made your point, clearly. 

His jeans hang loosely as they creep down his thighs, abandoned for a moment as you occupy your mouth against his hips. The hips you once thought would look so pretty properly decorated. You decide you were wrong – they don’t need ink burying into the skin, they need your teeth digging in. 

You cover that skin with mirroring images of bursts of purple and pink, flowering bruises that you take your time to mark onto him. With each suck and bite, Eddie rolls his hips into you, head leaned back and throat straining with each moan he swallows down. 

With the last hickey finished, you finally lean back, proud of your masterpiece as Eddie whimpers above you. Blooms in the shape of your lips mingle with faint and quickly fading teeth marks. 

“Fuck,” he gasps out when your fingertip stops trailing over your markings and comes down to apply the softest pressure over the straining bulge in his boxers. 

“What was it that you said earlier?” your finger traces over where you know a vein is – you know it because you’ve felt it, been driven insane by it – before circling around the wet patch now forming. He’s desperate, hips bucking again and a moan finally escaping. You think he’s bitten his lips hard enough in an attempt at self-restraint that they might be bleeding, “You said I’m not calling the shots, right?” 

“You’re not,” he pathetically grits out, hands forming tighter fists on metal railing, as if the moment he lets go of it they’ll find their way home to you. 

You lean forward, breath washing over his crotch before you place a feathery kiss to his clothed tip, “I’m not?” 

You are. You both know you are. A constant battle of control, an ever-growing fight for dominance. 

He lets out something crossed between a sigh of relief and a whine of protest when you remove your lips and hand from him completely, only to let out a sharp yelp when your finger curls into the waistband of his boxers and pulls back the elastic, letting it snap back into place sharply. 

“Say I am,” you barter, “Say I’m in control right now, and I’ll put my money where my mouth is.” 

You don’t expect him to break so easily. You’ve underestimated just how tightly you’ve caught him beneath your thumb.

“You’re in control,” he gasps out, head hanging low to meet your gaze fully, “You’re in complete and utter fucking control of me. You’re calling all the shots, baby. You always are.” 

He didn’t have to sweeten it up with baby, but it spurs you on. 

You shove his boxers down, watching his cock spring out for the taking. And you do as you promised; you put your money where your mouth is.

You start softly, taking your time as you gingerly suck on his pretty pink tip as you had his thumb. Hardly hollowing your cheeks, letting your tongue circle his slit to gather up the precum. You let the taste of him completely cover your tongue, even hum in satisfaction when he lets out a loud groan. It motivates you, feeds your fervor as you let his tip fall from your mouth and trail the tip of your tongue down the underside of his cock. That vein you’d traced with your fingertip, yours for the taking, covered in a faint line of saliva as you let it rest on your forehead and graze your lips against his ballsack. 

He can’t hide his shiver, even as his fist flies to his mouth to bite down on. 

“Have I ever told you how cute you are?” you say low enough for just him. You can hear the sounds of traffic, a dog barking, birds singing — all reminders of the outside world and the looming threat of being caught. Warmth floods you again at the reminder of that threat, thighs clenching closer together in a desperate search of friction, “Just falling apart for me, acting so tough for so long until I got you alone.” 

He whimpers your name. It’s the prettiest sound you’ve ever heard.

You wrap your lips around the sensitive skin, sucking and pecking away on one side before moving to the next. His reaction throttles your movements. When his hand loses the fight of resistance, coming down to the back of your head, you laugh breathlessly against the now wet skin. 

“Let me make you feel just how worthy you are to me,” you praise, pulling back finally, letting your nose brush against his sack as you do so. The hand that was once merely resting now tangles up in your hair — a warning. 

You let the velvet skin of his cock drag down your cheek as each movement is deliberate, taking your time and in no rush. You want to savor him like this. Imprint him to memory. 

You want to make him forget while making yourself remember. 

You want to remember the way his hand flexes at the base of your skull when you finally kiss his tip once more, remember the way his abdomen tenses as you sink him further into your mouth. You want to remember every little sound that escapes him as he hits the back of your throat, as you constrict around him, as you moan around his base and the vibrations have him slipping out of control. 

Your nails dig into his thighs to balance yourself, eyes watering as you look up at him. One subtle nod. He doesn’t need more than that.

Your jaw goes slack, trying to steady your breathing through your nose as you let him take control. His hips thrust at their own pace, gentle enough that he only grazes the back of your throat rather than bruise it. The issue is you want him to bruise it. You want him to mark you from the inside out. Until there’s no part of you left untouched by him. 

You gag again, and he slows. Your fingers that grip his thighs immediately tap against him, and he mistakes it as a signal to pull back completely before you chase after him, pressing him onto your tongue until your lips are snug around his cock a mere inch from the base. Your nose is grazing those pubes in the dead center of all your love marks. Shapes of semi-permanent scars that whisper, you’re worth it to me. I want this. I want you. 

The last thing on his mind was Chrissy Cunningham and her words alluding to him not being worth it. 

You make sure of it when you finally release him from your mouth and begin to pump with an eager fist, ducking down and returning to pay attention to his balls once more. You nuzzle the soft skin, let the tips of your canines graze them before you suck them onto your tongue as you’d done his cock. He’s no longer containing his moans – they flow freely along with curse words, chants of your name, sounds you’d love to capture and play on repeat until the end of your days. 

“Oh my God,” he groans out particularly loudly, “Fuck, baby. J-Just like that, please- Fuck. You’re doing so good for me. Such a good girl, just for me.” 

Your hand is still wrapped around him, slowly coming up to squeeze hard around the tip as you whisper up to him, “Only for you.” 

“Yeah? Only for me?” 

You don’t know how to explain to him that it’s true: you’re only ever that mean for him, you’re only ever this eager for him, you’re only ever this desperate for him. 

You don’t answer him with words. There are none. Instead, you take him back in your mouth, and you solely focus on bringing your deity to climax. The man you were worshiping, the man who was worth the ache in your knees that surely told you they would be left bruised, if not skinned. 

“Is it just like you imagined?” you question as you break your lips off him. He’s close, leaking precum excessively and entire body taut, “Was it worth it? To picture this, to want this so badly?” 

He almost can’t answer you, but somehow manages between pants, “It was. It is. You’re- fuck, you’re worth it.” 

“Good,” you drop your hand from him, leaving him right on the edge as you rest both sticky palms on the tops of your thighs. You look up at him with relinquished control – the perfect image of submission, for him. “Then you get it. When I say you’re worth it, you get it.” 

He’s clearly still reeling from you bringing him so close only to leave him hanging, teetering on a cliff as he stares you down. 

His chest heaves as he questions, “What was it you wanted me to do earlier?” A deceiving hand comes down, tucking any baby hairs behind your ear and cradling the side of your face. One moment, his thumb is stroking a soft arch beneath your eye, the next that hand is pulling you up, “Make you?”

You know that if you hadn’t been so eager to follow his touch, you’d still be on your knees. Even as you watch him take the reins, you know you will always call the shots – just like he had said. 

“You really think you can make me hate you?” you whisper once you’re standing tall in front of him, leaning your cheek into his touch.

“I shouldn’t have to make you hate me,” he corrects, the thumb back to gentle strokes, loosening the touch to be more tender once again, “You should already hate me.” 

“Why?” 

He flips positions immediately, your lower back now curving into the railing as he presses himself up against you, his achingly hard cock between your bodies, “Because of this. Because I always want you on your knees for me. Because of all the fucking filth I want to do to you. I want to bend you over, right here, and take you where anyone could see. I want to have you screaming my name loud enough that every single person on the streets of this city hears you.”

With each word, a knot ties inside of you, desperate for release. 

“Because you’re fucking right,” he leans down, lips going straight for your neck, not looking you in the eyes, “All it fucking took was for you to get me alone for one night, and now? I’ll never get enough of you, I’ll never get clean of you,” he takes a deep breath, and suddenly, his lips latch onto you, sucking the skin between his teeth and biting hard. You can’t stop your fingers from latching onto his curls, tugging hard, body rolling into his. It hurts, it stings, you need more, “Everything changes. And that includes me.” 

His face finally leaves the crook of your neck, pulling back to look you in your eyes. Doe brown eyes search yours, wide and honest and pleading. You let everything else melt away; for a moment, it’s only him and only you. The tension, the last twenty one hours, the last year — you let it disintegrate and focus on him.

It never mattered if everything changed. 

It only matters that he’s changed, irreversibly, and so are you.

“How can I hate you for those things?” you press into him again, this time less desperate and more consciously, “Do it.” 

“Do what?”

“All of it,” you trail a hand up his chest, “Every single thing you just said. Fucking- Do them. Bend me over, make me scream, change me,” your voice breaks, shaking with anticipation and need. 

It’s all the encouragement he needs.

Every single thing he wanted, he craved, he does. A flurry of him properly discarding his jeans as he unbuttons yours to shove them down, spinning you and shoving you hard enough into the railing that it digs into your abdomen and leaves you breathless. You’re hardly aware of the way you step out of your pants and kick them to the side, looking out to the city skyline but not seeing it. It’s all a blur as you focus on the way your shirt rides up and he grabs your hips, bruising you finally as you have desperately needed. 

You wanted to be left haunted by the end of these last few hours. You wanted to see him every time you looked in the mirror for the next week, to remember the map of where his body molded to yours. You want to dream of the way he stretches you as your underwear is ripped to the side. You want to be followed by the sounds of his skin slapping against yours as he snaps forward with intention.

Changing you. He has no idea that he’s already ripped you open from the inside out, has already rewired your entire chest and set flames to your brain. 

Everything changes, and sometimes, everything is only two people. Just you. Just him. New versions that would have never met had it not been for this stupid fucking bet.

“Eddie,” you nearly sob, nearly choke on, his name burning in your throat like kindling embers. 

His hand walks up your spine, trailing wildfire even with a layer of cotton between you two. Burning and singing away all you’d assumed for far too long. When he reaches the nape of your neck, he takes care in wrapping your hair around his wrist, tugging back hard and forcing you to stand from where the railing had been bending you in two.

“Say it again,” his lips brush you ear with every gasping breathing, timing with the way his cock is sliding in and out of your warmth, “Say it louder.” 

“Fu-“ you start to moan, cut off by him pulling even harder on your hair, making his point so that you cry out, “Eddie!” 

He thrusts harder. You swear you could feel him in your throat. 

“Scream for me, baby,” an arm wraps around your torso, firm and solid for you to cling to rather than the warming metal of the railing, “Tell them who’s making you feel so good. Let them know. Be a good girl.”

Even when he claims to have control, it’s your actions, your reactions, that call the shots.

It’s the echo of your voice that spurs him on as you chant his name over and over, as if he were your only God. Primal worship dripping from every syllable. It’s the tremble in your thighs that has him pressing deeper into you, chest glued to your back as if he could never get you close enough. It’s the clench of your cunt around him, a vice that sucks him in as you drag him closer to the high he’s been dizzily chasing since you first dropped to your knees in front of him. 

It’s you. You’ve changed him, as he’s changed you.

He pulls your hair until you rest the back of your head against his shoulder, back arching and feet still spread as he only maintains his quick and brutal pace, leaning down to whisper in your ear one last time.

“You know the real reason why you should hate me?” he grits out between to particularly forceful thrusts, “It’s not just because I don’t deserve you. It’s because I’ve wanted you for so long,” you’re right on the edge, fluttering around his cock as his movements stutter. A tell tale sign. “I- fuck, fuck. It’s- God, I’ve loved you for so long, and I’ll never be fucking worthy.” 

You shatter around him in waves. Your entire body tenses as the words dig claws into you, piercing through vines and blooms. His body stills, warmth flooding you deep within as you continue to see stars. You can’t make a single sound, fingerprints surely left behind on where you clasp onto his forearm. 

I’ve loved you for so long, and I’ll never be fucking worthy.

When the waves recede, when the high has passed its peak, you both freeze. Your body tensed in his hold, struggling to process what he’d just said. 

Loved you. 

He’s frozen in place, scrambling to figure out how to undo the damage just done. 

I’ve loved you for so long.

He slips out of you, his spent dripping down your thighs. His forearm drops from you. Your hands don’t even try to stop him.

I’ll never be fucking worthy.

You should be worried of neighbors coming out to see the two of you on his balcony. If not worried, you should be embarrassed, or aching at the thought once again. Anything. You should feel something.

You turn slowly to him, entirely numb as you catch his rueful expression.

Loved you. He loved you.

His regret turns to pain as you whisper, “What did you just say?”

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[seattlesellie]

could you make bff!ellie catching you masturbating and says something like ”i can help you if youd like” bc you couldnt climax when you do it yourself

caught ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

an: pretty self explanatory. nsfw, mdni please. part one of two!

yet another droplet of salty—sweet sweat fell on your top lip. you couldn’t get there, couldn’t you? no matter how hard you tried, no matter how hard you rutted against the fabric, the position your pillow was in— folded, to the side, with the tip; you just couldn’t do it. you couldn’t cum.

a pitiful whine fell from your lips. should an unfamiliar passerby chance upon the scene, they might have assumed that you were tormented, in agony.

the bittersweet twist in your stomach was truly just a tease. almost there, almost, in a fleeting moment— vanished into thin air.

would it be wrong to say that you looked absolutely pathetic? it probably wouldn’t be, it would be nothing but the truth. with your panties hung loose around your ankles, your toes curling inside of your soft white socks, your body feverishly oscillating back and forth, then sideways, tracing circles— and then just straight up humping, it was sad.

“oh— please, please!” you mewled, better yet, cried out.

perchance, you could get there if you pulled your erect nipples, if you pinched them just right, that tormenting tension would finally dissipate. you hastily took your pajama tank top off and threw it on the floor. you pulled on the swollen buds, twisted them slightly, only to elicit a shrill cry that escaped your lips.

“mmph— god!”

you were supposed to meet ellie at 4:30pm. or was it 4:15? 4:20? you wouldn’t know. the clock was ticking, and there you were, grinding yourself helplessly against your soft pillow. tick—tock.

it’s 4:13.

4:14:

ellie knocked on your apartment door. once, then twice, and finally she pressed the buzzer. she was starving, her mouth salivating, and the scent coming from the pizza box wasn’t helping in the slightest.

she buzzed it again, and to her dismay, no answer.

“ugh, cmon” she huffed, knocking forcefully again.

what were you doing? in the bathroom? showering? you must be busy somehow, with your earphones in, maybe?

you said 4:15pm. she wasn’t very forgetful, especially when it came to you.

biting down on her bottom lip, ellie remembered there’s a spare key conveniently tucked beneath the brown “welcome!” carpet. she knows this because you told her, when she walked you home, tipsy and giggling after a night out.

“right” she mumbled, balancing the large pizza box on her left hand. she bent down, and she was right. she remembered correctly— a spare key. as ellie swung open the door, she was greeted by an empty living room.

“hello?”

she paced around. maybe you were hiding underneath the kitchen table? pulling a prank on her? you goof.

“pizzas here…” she melodically chimed.

“and i'm… here too”

she pondered the possibility of someone having broken into your apartment and kidnapping you. could that be?

ugh, ellie. quit being so dramatic.

ellie placed the pizza box right on the kitchen counter, and began walking towards your room. maybe you were napping, that sounds like a much nicer thought. when the image of you cuddled up inside a fuzzy blanket popped into her mind, she chuckled. cute.

oh how terribly wrong she was.

you pressed against your pillow, causing the bed to emit two distinct squeaks.

ellie's head swiftly turned to the side, her steps growing closer and closer to your room. so you didn’t get kidnapped... you’re in there. jumping on the bed, perhaps?

as a high-pitched whimper escaped your lips, reaching her ears as if tethered by an invisible string, her heart sank. she was dangerously close to the wooden door now.

her breath caught in her throat. you were fucking somebody.

it was muffled, but the bed creaking and the whiney sob? her head was spinning in circles, palms itching and sweaty. not only did you completely forget about your plans, you were in there— letting someone fuck you. she didn’t even know you were seeing somebody. she didn’t even know you were doing that shit and that sweet, blissful moan? she dug crescent marks onto her palms as she clenched them tightly.

it was wrong. it was painfully wrong and creepy and perverted, but ellie had to see. she had to know who you were letting inside your bed, but she wasn’t about to interrupt. all she did, was twist the doorknob carefully, the door opening far enough for her to see, but still not enough for you to notice.

oh.

oh.

with your bare back on display, and your ass squished against the pillow— ellie felt like she was going to faint. your sweet, frustrated moans filled the room and ellie blinked so many times she was having a sensory overload.

this has to be a dream, she thought. one of her crazy ones, the only ones she doesn’t tell you about. her throat felt dry, and she had to swallow hard. ellie took a shaky breath in, and she nearly groaned. you were desperate, she swore she could see a sweet droplet of sweat flowing down your back.

ellie’s first instinct was shutting the door and leaving.

for the first time in her life, ellie didn’t listen to her instincts. she stood there, mouth agape, toes curling inside of her chucks.

“pleasepleaseplease, unggh—“ that little moan was so high pitched and sweet and ellie felt dizzy, faint, awestruck. she dug her trimmed fingernails right into her jeans covered thigh and pinched. this is a dream, ellie— wake up.

“oh god!”

wake up, ellie.

you got down on your elbows, and you dragged your aching clit all over the pillow. the bed squeaked again. she could see everything, the swollen button, your tight hole and your ass—

wake up, ellie.

“fuck” she huffed, and you still couldn’t hear a thing, too busy and too in trance, poorly trying to get yourself off.

when you humped the pillow again— ellie’s own clit pumped. like a faint heartbeat, she felt a dull ache growing and growing.

she stood there; dizzy, disgusting, turned on, like a peeping tom.

she should leave. she has to leave. why can’t she leave? her feet are glued to the floor and she can’t walk, paralyzed.

she could walk out of here and pretend it never happened. she could go home, rub one out, rub it again till it hurts and then see you the next day. this could be normal, she could be normal about this, can’t she?

“fuck!” you gave up. you weren’t getting there, this wasn’t happening today. you weren’t going to cum and you had to deal with it. slowly, you steadied your breath and grabbed your phone. it was 16:24, where is she? you decided to text her.

“when are u coming over? i’m starving”

ellie’s phone buzzed in her pocket and she nearly choked. there she was, frozen, staring.

thankfully, you didn’t hear it. in fact, you couldn’t hear anything— your ears were still pumping.

ellie swiftly took her phone out of her pocket and noticed her hands were shaking, it nearly slipped out of her grip. she shouldn’t answer. she should pretend that she had forgotten, she was napping, at the gym, working on something, god knows what. she shouldn’t answer.

but she did.

“give me 20 minutes, was at the gym”

you chuckled, and when you went to scratch your chin with your shoulder, ellie thought you were turning around and she nearly collapsed.

“lol u renewed your membership?”

oh shit. she cancelled it last month. her jeans felt too tight and her face was on fire and now she had to lie, again.

“yeah”

even as she typed— she couldn’t look away. your ass was on full display and it was something she had to burn into her memory. she would never see you like this ever again.

“i don’t believe you”

oh fuck.

“send proof ellie… need to know ur not just lying and hanging out with toxic stacy again”

is it possible that she completely forgot who you were talking about? was she that delirious?

“omg wrong name lol 🩷 i meant samantha”

oh, her.

is samantha’s pussy this pretty?

oh, she’s sick.

you giggled and adjusted yourself on the pillow again. when you laid completely down, ellie’s eyes rolled back.

“i’m at the gym… not lying, weirdo”

you sighed, and ellie heard it. the fact that she could hear every single one of your reactions to her texts made her cringe but it also made her feel something she’s never felt before.

“send a gym selfie then”

you weren’t intentionally flirting. it was purely innocent on your part, just that. you needed to know she wasn’t lying. why did her stomach flip?

she knew she had to have one. she knew she had to have at least one picture of her at the gym. she must have sent something back then, maybe to cat. cat loved her blurry gym pictures, the ones she sent her with the bottom of her tank-top in between her teeth and her toned abs on full display. she found it— after two whole minutes of aimless searching and scrolling. just what she thought, her abs, slightly sweaty and glistening, her thin happy trail, and her boxers peaking out from her sweats. she sent it so fast and she didn’t even think—

you stared at your screen. fully stared. your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, why did she… that picture was… suggestive. your best friend is a weirdo and she’s also making your tummy feel like it’s being swarmed by angry bees.

“i believe u now :) see you in 20!”

ellie felt like punching herself in the face, but before she did, before she closed the door and got the hell out of there— you did something that was so unfathomable, she nearly went cross eyed. with ellie’s picture flashing on your phone, you began grinding again. the moan that fell from your lips was guttural, ravenous.

this wouldn’t even be the first time, wouldn’t it? getting off to the thought of your best friend?

this time, when the pillow met your clit again, you were wet and slimy and you seamlessly glided onto the plush fabric. you knew, deep down, that you could get there this time. if you were looking at her, at her sculpted abs with her shirt in her mouth you could actually cum. you didn't even bother thinking about it, about how wrong it is. she would never know, so what's the big deal?

this time— ellie has to wake herself up somehow. this was the sign, the only one that helped her make sure she knew that she was absolutely dreaming.

if this was, in fact, a dream— ellie would coo at you. she would walk over, ever so slowly, lift you up, help you get off of the pillow, and hold your hand. "poor thing, need my help?" when you'd nod, shed guide your body up and down and teach you just the right moves. shed take you by the waist and help you slide, suck on your nipples and look at you. occasionally— she would stop on her nibbling to mutter "all you needed to do was ask me, pretty girl"

but this isn't a dream. ellie knows this isn't a dream because she checked the time on her phone and a minute had passed and she knows it doesn't work like that in the dream realm.

would it be wrong if she slipped her hands right into her pants?

"please, ellie"

you moaned her name like you were ashamed. like you knew she was right there and she could hear you. what would you do if she was?

when ellie heard the whine of her name slip out of your mouth, her phone dropped down to the floor and hit it with a thud. for ellie, it sounded louder than a brick.

you turned around fast, you thought a vase had fallen. when you caught her gaze, because ellie couldn't. fucking. move— you weren't embarrassed. you were too mortified to be embarrassed, you screeched and you didn't speak. neither did ellie.

your lips were trembling and her hands were sweating profusely. you've never seen her look like this, she's never seen you look like this. she opened her mouth like she was going to speak, but she didn't. she stood, frozen.

you don't know when you managed to grab the blanket and wrap it around your body but you did.

she opened up her mouth again, but only a soft "ah" noise escaped from it.

"when d—did you..."

"just now" she lied.

"and you stood there f—for..." you stuttered. now, the embarrassment finally hit.

"i saw" ellie managed to speak, somehow.

she saw?

"w—what?

"i saw"

what did she see? your heart was beating fast. you’ve never felt this vulnerable, this exposed. what did she see?

you couldn’t speak. you wouldn’t dare. embarrassed, not able to make any eye contact with the green eyed girl, you stared at the floor.

“i think…” she stepped closer to you, and she kept her gaze on the floor as well.

“i can…”

another step. closer now, dangerously so.

your entire body trembled.

she looked up at you, finally.

“help”

[aismoker]

Be a GOOD boy

Tucker looked up from his work when his phone buzzed. He had received a message. At first he didn't recognize the sender: GOOD boy #79. The avatar showed a picture of a bald guy wearing a leather uniform with a big cigar in his mouth. His eyes seem to glow red.

Tucker was annoyed. It must be some kind of spam bot. But as he saw the number, he recognized it as the number of Connor, his best friend. As he looked better, he recognized the guy on the picture as his friend. He opened the message. It only said: "be a GOOD boy". Tucker was now very puzzled. Did Connor get some kind of virus on his phone? Was it some kind of joke? Barry was so occupied with the message, that he hadn't noticed that a file had started to download. Once it was finished, his phone shut down. Tucker didn't know what was happening. He started his phone again, but instead of the normal opening screen he saw an image of a red spiral.

"Shit", Tucker thought, he must have downloaded a virus. He tried to shut down his phone again, but nothing seemed to work. As he tapped frantically on the screen, the image started to change. A picture of bald man in a leather uniform, smoking a cigar appeared on the screen and then another and another. Tucker didn't understand anything of all this. What was happening to his phone? He looked at the screen. The images started to change faster and faster. He sometimes thought he recognized some of the guys in the pictures. Wasn't that James? And wasn't that the guy who worked at the gas station? He wasn't sure. By now, the images flashed so rapidly that his consciousness couldn't register. It was, however, in a way quite relaxing to watch the images. The longer he kept looking at the screen, the more he got entranced. He didn't even notice that text started to appear on the screen. He didn't even notice that after a while, he was starting to chant softly: "be a GOOD boy... be a GOOD boy... be a GOOD boy..."

Several hours later, the doorbell rings. Still entranced, he stands up and goes to the door. He ooens the door. He doesn't expect there to be anyone and indeed, the hallway is empty. He looks down and sees a big bag standing on his doorbell. There is a note attached to the bag. It says: "GOOD boy #137". He smiles. He takes the bag inside and opens it. In it he sees a pile of neatly folded leather clothes. He smiles. His uniform has arrived. He puts it on. He walks towards the bathroom and picks up his razor blade and starts shaving his head. He doesn't question his actions. He just OBEYS. It feels so GOOD to OBEY. Once done with shaving he grabs the bag again and takes out a wooden box. He opens the box. In it, he sees a rows of cigars. He softly caresses them with his fingers and picks one out. As instructed, he cuts the cigar and toasts it. He then sticks it in his mouth. He flicks the lighter and looks in the mirror. In a few seconds, he will be a GOOD boy.

As he takes his first drag and his lungs fill with the thick, creamy smoke, he feels a feeling of euphoria and joy wash over him. He is a GOOD boy! GOOD boy #137 takea another drag. The feeling intensifies. It feels so GOOD to smoke a CIGAR, so GOOD to OBEY.

GOOD boy #137 picks up his phone. The phone seems to work normally again, with the small differences that the red spiral with the cigar-smoking men is non-stop visible, like a transparent film over his screen. He takes a picture of himself and he uses it as his new avatar. He looks at his screen name. It said "Tucker". He frowns, he knew he had heard that name before, but he couldn't recall when. He tried to think, but GOOD boys don't think. He changed the screen name to "GOOD boy #137". He then uploads his photo to the spiral-file. He is a GOOD boy and everyone who sees the file should know it.

He looks through his list of contacts. He sees that besides GOOD boy #79 there are also GOOD boy #89, #103, #107, #117, #118 and #129. He smiles. So many GOOD boys already, but not enough. Everyone should be a GOOD boy, so he sends the file to all the men in his list with the simple message: "be a GOOD boy".

He then texts GOOD boy #137. "I am a GOOD boy now. Thank you!" Half a minute later, he got a reply: "It is so GOOD to be a GOOD boy! Come out and meet me at my place, we need to make more men into GOOD boys." #137 answers: "every man should be a GOOD boy. I'll be there in 5 minutes." He grabs a few extra cigars and walks out of his apartment. He smiles as he takes dep drags of his cigar. It is so GOOD to be a GOOD boy.

======================

EPILOGUE

Barry Johnson, head scientist at Big Tobacco international, a conglomerate of the largest tobacco producers worldwide, rushes to the director's office. There was no time to lose. He knocks at the door and without waiting, he opened the door and stepped into the office. "We have to stop the GOOD boy project! We have to use the kill-switch!" The director, sitting in his large leather chair didn't answer for a second. He then asked, calmly: "And why should we do that?" Johnson answers hastily: "The program is too powerful! Our estimations showed that it would affect about 200 men in the course of a month, but it has reached that number in a few days. The program's reach seems to grow exponentially!" "No worries, I have increased the production of uniforms already. We cannot have GOOD boys without thwir uniforms. I have also contacted the partners. They have increased their production to the max." Johnson is dumbstruck. "You did WHAT? You don't understand! I have to kill the program before we lose control!" As the director turns his chair slowly around to fave Johnson, he says: "No, you don't understand how GOOD it feels to be a GOOD boy."

The director had now a shaved head and he was wearing a leather uniform. He has a cigar in his mouth, in the other his phone. The phone emits a vague red glow, that is reflected in his eyes. Johnson backed away. "How?", he stammered. "My son Jason shared the file with me. He wanted me to know how GOOD it is to be a GOOD boy. "So, it got to you too," Johnson said, "the there is only one thing that I can do. I have to use the kill-switch" He backed further away from the director, until he hit the wall. "Odd", Johnson thought, he didn't know the office had leather walls. But then he realized he hadn't backed himself into the wall, but into Andrew, the 2.07 m high security guard who was into body building big time. "Andrew, thank God, we have to get out of here!" He looked up and his heart jumped. He saw a large cigar sricking out of Andrew's mouth. Plumes of smoke came out of his nose, covering Johnson. "It got to you too..." Andrew didn't reply to him. He simply mumbled around his cigar "be a GOOD boy... be a GOOD boy..." Johnson felt the iron muscles of the security guard wrap around him. He was trapped in a smokey embrace. Johnson tried to get out, but the other man simply was too strong. Andrew holding the head scientist with one arm, took out his phone and switched it on. A red spiral appeared. Johnson tried to look away from it, but only a short glance was enough to fix his gaze on the screen. He saw the images of men, wearing leather uniforms and smoking cigars flashing in front of his eyes. Inside his head, a battle was taking place:

"All those guys... all GOOD boys now... victims of the program... MY victims... all GOOD boys now... I have to help them... I have to kill the program... they know how GOOD it is to be a GOOD boy... I have to fight the program... be a GOOD boy... I have to think... GOOD boys don't think... I have to think of a way out now... GOOD boys obey... I have to think... GOOD boys smoke CIGARS... I have to... be a GOOD boy... be a GOOD boy... be a GOOD boy..."

[bedoballoons]

Genshin Mens with an S/o that always so happy and bubbly from the outside/public but at home they are actually tired and secretly crying in the bathroom while the shower is on so hoping that They wont hear the reader crying

I have been waiting to write this oh my gosh!! Love this idea, but just in case you're feeling like the reader, know it's okay to cry and if you ever need to talk to someone you're welcome to talk to me and I'll do the best I can to comfort you <3

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃

{༻~All alone~༺}

CW: Angsty: Hidden emotions, crying, depression, some slight yelling in Xiaos and worried characters! Modern AU! (Pet names: Lyney: My love, Zhongli: Darling, Xiao: Flower, Kazuha: Honey, Neuvillette: Mon amour)

(Includes: Lyney, Zhongli, Xiao, and Kazuha!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney:

Lyneys knuckles gently tapped against the wooden door of the bathroom, his voice sweet and filled with love "Mon amour, you alright? You've been in the shower awhile" ...although if you listened closely, you could hear the undertone of worries in his words. No matter how well you hid it in public, he could always sense you were off, he knew when smiles were genuine and yours rarely was anymore and no amount hiding in the bathroom could make your pain less noticeable to him.

Meanwhile you were on the other side of the door, knees pulled close to your chest and tears rolling down your cheeks as you tried to breath in the mist filled room, the sound of the shower drowning out your soft sobs to the best of its abilities. You sniffled, trying to make your voice sound normal despite the emotions that were tugging at your throat, "Yeah honey! I'm fine! Just wanted to pamper myself a little!"

The magician sighed, slowly sinking to the floor... he wished so desperately you'd just let him in, let him lighten the burdens you were carrying, " Mon amour...I know that's not true. Please, let's talk.." You could barely hear him over your own mind screaming at you...worries and images of your issues dragging him down with you, drowning any ideas of actually accepting his offer to the bottom of your heart.

"I'm fine."

𑁍༄Zhongli:

You laughed out loud, others laughing along with you like everything was absolutely perfect...while Zhonglis yellow eyes saw otherwise, his gaze never leaving your sweet face. He could see it in your eyes, the way your laughter no longer sounded the same....the way you held yourself differently when others were around compare to when you were home alone with him. He just didn't understand why you weren't talking with him...why you were hiding your feelings.

Of course he wouldn't pressure you, he'd do his best to encourage you to lean on him...rest when you looked tired, do his best to show you how much he loved you, but it didn't seem to stop. You'd still disappear into the bathroom, shower running while he paced back and forth outside the door, wishing he knew more about human emotions, wishing he could just do...something.

"Darling, I'm here if you need me...I love you."

"Just taking a shower!....love you too!"

𑁍༄Xiao:

Xiao was panicking, all his life he'd never found love till he met you and now you were hurting in a way he didn't know how to solve. He thought you were happy, smiling and laughing like usual...but overtime he would notice that something had changed. You no longer laughed till you cried anymore and even when you seemed at your highest...you still had dark bags under your eyes, sadness clinging to your words.

Now he'd caught you crying behind a closed door, sobs barely audible over the sound of the shower running and breathing messy...uneven, you sounded like your heart was shattering. He couldn't stand hearing you sound so broken, standing there doing nothing to help you when one of the things he loved most was protecting you, so he teleported into the room..hoping you'd forgive the intrusion.

He was shocked at first, to see you curled up by the door crying, barely able to breath as you rocked back and fourth...he wanted to run to you, pull you into a tight hug, tell you he'd make it all okay if you asked, but he didn't want to startle you and make the situation worse, "Flower...I'm here...can I help?"

"Xiao?!? What a-are you doing in here!? G-get out!"

"I'm worried about you, you're hiding your emotions and pretending like your okay when you aren't...I just want to help you."

"You're not one t-to talk! You hide what you're f-feeling all the time! Just leave me alone!!"

"No, I'm not leaving here until I figure out what's going on. I haven't waited thousands of years to find love and let it slip away because I didn't offer comfort when I should have!"

You covered your ears and opened the door, "THEN MAYBE YOU SHOULD HAVE WAITED L-LONGER!"

𑁍༄Kazuha:

Kazuha sighed, humming against the doorframe while he thought of your wonderful smile that always made his heart race...and your bubbly personality that contrasted so well with his calm collected one, but lately things hadn't had the same magical loving feeling they used to, even his poems barely made a glint in your eyes, you just seemed so put out. Even after sleeping, when he'd try to hold you close and make sure you rested comfortably in the morning, you'd almost instantly pull away...leave to take a shower.

"Hey honey, you doing okay in there? I don't want to bother you...I've just noticed you seemed to be feeling down more often. I guess I just...worry about you. I love you and I want to make sure you're happy..." The shower flicked off as he finished his sentence and for a split second he had hope you would talk with him, but when the door opened, you stood in front of him wrapped in a towel...eyes red and puffy, and that same fake daunting smile on your lips.

"Kazuha honey, what're you doing outside of the door? Were you talking to me? I didn't hear anything..."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

◥(•̀￦•́)◤☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 ☾𖤓~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧

[daycourtofficial]

We started alone, in the end we’re okay

| Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Rhys’s sister!reader

| Summary: on a rare night alone, Eris reflects on the loneliest night of his life, and how he’s a long way from the person he had to be.

| Author’s note: yes this is inspired by Pretty Little Girl by Blink-182 how’d you know the last 45 seconds of that song are everything to me

| TW: mentions of physical abuse, blood, death

| WC: ~2k

Servants bustled up and down the halls of the Forest House, preparations being made for the Starfall holiday, one he and his family won’t be attending.

He was the only one left in the house - you had taken the kids to Night a day early so they could have a sleepover with their cousins. Meanwhile Eris had a meeting with some advisors in the morning he was unable to reschedule.

Eris strode toward his chambers, his long legs carrying him through the halls that have been the only witness to his comings and goings during his long life. He walked a path so familiar to him he could be reincarnated and still, his feet would carry him where he needed to go.

He had broken tradition when he became high lord, opting to stay in his previous chambers over taking Beron’s previous ones. He wanted to burn those rooms down, wanted to feel his fire consume every remaining remnant of Beron on this plane of existence.

He turned it into additional servant’s quarters instead. His father would have hated it. Lucien was delighted at the news.

Walking through his chambers, a pang echoes through him at the missing toys across the floor, especially the wooden sword he had been tripping over all week, asking Atlas to put it away, his request falling on deaf ears. The floors looked so empty, the room too quiet, despite his children being gone for only a handful of hours.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he breathed in deeply, the scents of his family already several hours old, the rooms slightly colder without their body heat warming them, especially the younger ones, unable to properly regulate their powers yet.

He poured himself a glass of whiskey, sitting in the old leather chair that’s been in this room as long as he has. His amber eyes roam about the room, taking in every detail, despite very little physically ever changing about the room.

His mind wandered, opening doors into his past he had sealed shut. Doors he would give anything to forget where they sit, doors that he can hear screams from the other side of.

Without intending to, he stumbles through one of those doors, perhaps the largest and most foreboding of all.

The rag made a disgusting squishing noise as it met the tile of his bathroom. The pile was growing larger, his blood seeping out of the rags onto the floor.

He braced his hands on the counter, fingers gripping tightly to the marble counter, sucking in a breath through his teeth, trying not to think, to feel.

He grits his teeth, grinding them together as he pours more alcohol on the fresh rag, preparing himself for the sting.

He quickly placed the rag on his back, a small gasp coming from his lips at the pain. He bites his lip hard enough to draw blood, and he sparks a flame on the tile, needing something to distract him.

He skitters the small flame across the floor, rubbing the rag across his torn and shredded back, the alcohol seeping into his wounds, sterilizing them from Beron’s cruelty.

If only he were given the same treatment.

He closed his eyes, breathing deep and slow, trying to stop the images flashing behind them.

Lucien, his baby brother, the best of them, running through the woods, intentionally taking the paths most covered in root.

Lucien, whose long hair resembled Eris’s, and whenever they smiled, they both had the ability to unsettle people.

Lucien, who was slightly taller and stockier than his big brother. Lucien, who spent his young and vulnerable years searching for Eris in every room. Lucien, who Eris took on walks through the woods, teaching him how to snare rabbits.

He was too late to save his lover, had barely arrived in time to send word to Tamlin and redirect Lucien’s running towards the border with Spring.

He had warned and warned and warned Lucien not to test Beron, that he would fail as a father, fail to do the right thing every time.

Lucien, the snarky bastard, could never resist biting back, always testing the boundaries of those around him.

Eris wasn’t surprised when his father had called him to his office one night, desperate for answers to how any son of his could dare be enchanted by a lesser fae. He was, however, more than surprised at Beron’s ridiculous plan for punishing Lucien: forcing Lucien to watch as they killed Jesminda and then killing Lucien.

He couldn’t look at himself, couldn’t believe that they had gotten here, to this point, to this ridiculous sham of a family.

He didn’t know what he was doing until the knife was in his hand, blindly sawing at his hair until the ground around him was covered in strokes of red.

He ignored the throbbing in his back as he moved his hands, ignored the warmth spreading down his back as the wounds reopened. The hacked hair began coating his chest and sticking to the blood on his back.

He stood in a pool of his past, years and years of decay around his feet, a ghost looking back at him in the mirror.

At least his hair was dead before he took the blade to it.

There was no sign of his brother in his reflection. Just a short crop of red hair and some creature looking back at him. Something new roared beneath his skin, some new sense of purpose.

He dropped the knife, the blade clattering against the floor, the sound echoing through the room, but he couldn’t hear it over the rushing of his thoughts, the one thought consuming him.

He knew what he had to do. He would kill Beron. For Lucien, for his mother, for his brothers, for Jesminda.

For himself.

He walked out of the bathroom, into his chambers, opening the large window. The wind was sharp on the wounds on his back, but he couldn't help being drawn into the night sky before him.

An endless sea of stars above him, ones he knows are watching him make poor decision after poor decision. But still they call to him in some language he can’t understand, something deep within him yearning for their company.

He put on a loose shirt, the fabric suffocating his wounds. He slipped through the open window, the night sky infinite before him. Treading through the woods, he walks through unmade paths, paths that one day his children will forge in these woods.

They will never know the path he took that night, searching in the moonlight for a body, disrespected and desecrated. It took him a few hours, but he found what remained of her, parts of her body missing from predation. He waves his hand to shoo off some birds, their annoyed caws growing softer as they flew away.

He uses the shovel he brought to break ground, the wounds in his back that had began healing reopening, fresh blood mingling with the sweat dripping down his back.

All he could feel was the night air, somehow colder without his brother. His hands blister as he digs and digs and digs, offering penance for an atrocity not of his own.

He didn’t know why he did it. Maybe it was the right thing to do, even though Eris was never able to properly discern between right and wrong. Was it out of respect for Jesminda, whose last moments were filled with nothing but terror and the worst the fae had to offer? Was it out of mourning for Lucien, his youngest brother gone forever? Was it penance for all the terrible things he had done in his life so far?

He pulls himself out of the hole, grunting as he gets out of the grave. He looks into it, thinking how easy it would be to just bury himself instead.

Will this be his end? A burial under the cover of darkness by someone he hardly knows?

Knees meet the dirt, his hands moving to her face. He never knew her, not really. Met her in passing at one of the markets in town. She gave him some pastry, her little stall so homey despite its impermanence.

Her eyes are open, not seeing anything. He offers a prayer to the Mother - for Jesminda, for Lucien, for everyone who comes into Beron’s orbit. He asks for safe passage for Jesminda, into whatever afterlife exists.

He closes Jesminda’s eyes, his movements slow and deliberate. He takes her arms - what’s left of them - crossing them against her chest. He fishes from his pocket, putting a gold coin in one hand and an apple in the other.

Food for the journey, to nourish the soul. Gold for enlightenment, a hope that Jesminda will receive some peace in the journey before her. He delicately kisses her on the forehead - a last touch, performed with love and selflessness. Words never before used to describe Eris Vanserra, words that won’t be used to describe him for centuries to come.

He gently scooped her into his arms, taking care to keep her head from rolling back. It shouldn’t matter. It didn’t matter.

Except to Eris it did.

He walked with her over to the grave he had dug, gently lowering himself into the grave. His knees bent, delicatelt placing her on the ground as his chanting continued, pleading for safe passage, for a better ending than this. For an opportunity to come back, for her to get anything better than this.

Her body presses into the ground, relaxing into what will be her final resting place. Eris climbs out of the grave, peering down at his brother’s lover. His brother’s hope for the future, cruelly ripped from him by their father.

He grabbed the shovel, beginning to scoop dirt over her. It felt wrong to do so without Lucien or an audience. But it had to happen.

Once the grave was completely covered, Eris walked over to a patch of asters, using the shovel to scoop several of the flowers up. He lowered them onto her grave, a marking of sorts as he patted the soil around it so the roots would stay in place.

He looked at the asters, their purple hues looking so bright in the moonlight. Words are on the tip of his tongue, begging to be let out to pay some form of respect for Jesminda.

But nothing comes out. After a long time, the inly noise around him the chirping of insects, he turns, treading back to the Forest House. His footsteps are quiet, but much heavier. He finds his window easily, taking one last look towards the night sky, wondering what their everlasting gaze would have to say about what they’ve seen before slipping back into his room.

But Eris isn’t there anymore. Many sleepless nights had been spent since then gazing at the stars, dreaming of a better life. Dreaming of the day he would get to see Lucien again, silently asking the stars for any help they could provide.

Eris never put much faith into the Mother, assuming she had forsaken him and left him to be on his own. Until he met you. You who walked on stardust and moonlit skies. You who facilitated a reconciliation between himself and Lucien.

Eris’s fingers push through his short hair, reminding himself of how far he has come since that fateful night. For the first time in a long time, his fingers ache to feel more length.

[loucifersbitch]

yay for the follower milestone! For the prompt, can I suggest buddietommy and sleep deprived?

*looks at prompt* yeah, no way i'll be able to only write 11 sentences for this sldkfjslkfjskl

Eddie gets home first, dog-tired after a harrowing shift. They went their entire 24 hours without so much as a 5 minute break between calls. Willing himself to remain conscious, he drops his bag in the bedroom, stripping out of the clothes he'd hastily thrown on before leaving the station. The bed is damn near calling to him, but he knows he smells after the shift he just went through. He makes sure everything gets into the hamper (because otherwise someone will have something to say about it) before heading to the bathroom and starting the shower.

Stepping across the stone floor and under the rain shower head, he moans. The water pressure is heavenly, and for a few minutes he stands still under the spray, water running down his back, his sore muscles soaking in the heat. His eyelids droop with the exhaustion, but he forces them to stay open.

He barely registers the sound of the bathroom door opening, the smell of eggs and bacon and sausage permeating the air before the latch clicks again. Stuck in an almost trance-like state, he wishes he could sleep standing up. Or that the strength to lift his arms to wash his hair would hit him sometime soon.

Large, sure hands wrap around his hips from behind, and he immediately melts into it.

"Hey," Tommy says, his voice low as he kisses Eddie's shoulder. "Rough shift?"

"Mhm," he hums, nodding.

"Yeah, Evan said you guys didn't get a break."

Eddie hums in agreement again. "Where is he, by the way? I thought he was right behind me when I left the station."

"You know him, gotta make sure we eat before passing out for the next twelve hours. He'll be along soon."

Like they summoned him, the bathroom door opens and closes again, Buck joining them almost as soon as he'd entered the room. He plasters himself to Eddie's front, arms reaching around them until he's grabbing Tommy's shoulders.

"Jesus, Buck, why are you so cold?" Eddie asks, looping his arms around Buck's middle.

"'m not cold," Buck grumbles, burying his - very cold - face in Eddie's neck. "You jus' have the water temperature too high."

"Or he spent 10 minutes out in the freezing rain trying to catch Mrs. Petersen's dog for her again," Tommy murmurs.

"Hey, Greg is fast, and she's 74! I was helping. It's called being a good neighbor, Thomas."

"Mhm, and how exactly did you plan to catch him with your bare hands in the pouring rain?"

Eddie snickers at the mental image that springs to mind.

"I was being chivalrous," Buck grumbles again.

"Good thing it's your turn to do laundry," Tommy continues. "I wouldn't want to be the one to get those mud stains out of your jeans and shirt."

"Yeah, yeah. Shut up and get clean. We're wasting water," Buck says, staying exactly where he is and making it impossible to clean anything.

"Okay," Tommy says with finality, "Eddie first. Evan go sit on the bench."

Eddie can feel Buck beginning to pout where his mouth is buried against his clavicle.

"But I -"

"Now, Evan."

Buck huffs, but listens, sitting on the large wooden bench at the back of the shower.

Tommy begins washing Eddie's hair, and Eddie can't hold back the whimpers and gasps as gentle fingers massage his scalp. Tommy isn't trying to make it sensual, but Eddie is affected nonetheless. He can't help it when one of his partners' hands are in his hair.

Tommy moves methodically - meticulously - like with everything else he does. He has this particular way of caring for Eddie and Buck that makes them feel spoiled and cherished all at once.

When Tommy's done with him, Eddie and Buck trade places, and Eddie watches Tommy give Buck the same caring treatment he'd just received. There's a soft smile on Tommy's face as he works. This is just as much for him as it is for them.

Eddie and Buck both try to wash Tommy's hair for him, but he waves them off. They do manage to talk their way into washing the rest of him. Very meticulously.

The three fluffy towels on the counter hadn't been there when Eddie stepped in the shower, but Tommy always thinks of everything. They towel off, throw on the bare minimum of clothing, and quickly eat the breakfast sandwiches Buck had prepared.

They finally fall into bed, an unidentifiable mass of limbs and muscles, their bodies beyond exhaustion, their soft words turn into quiet snores almost immediately.

[personasintro]

Mutual Help | #39

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 25k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 

As soon as you wake up, you expect to be greeted with light or even sun rays peeking through the blinds. The reality is different and it hits you as soon as you crack your eyes open, greeted with barely any light. Even through the blinds you can make out the lack of sun. It's still dark outside which means it's too early for you to be awake.

Even in your sleeping daze you could've recognized yourself tossing for the past twenty minutes, too stubborn to open your eyes which ended up with you dozing off between sleep and being awake.

Last night's memories are fresh, properly tucked in your mind which caused you to dream about the weirdest things but also things connected to yesterday. From your conversation with Jungkook and his obvious worry, to your conversation with Kiko. Oh, and the clear image of Jungkook staring at you from across the room with knowing eyes.

He didn't go to talk to you like you expected him to. Maybe he tried, you kept avoiding him whenever he was in a close proximity or in the same circle of group. Not long after that you felt yourself getting tired, but mostly too tired to deal with more drama which caused you to silently slip away from the party, and find your safe hiding upstairs with Haneul by your side.

He looked like he had fun. You could see the alcohol he drank made him a little bit tipsy and sleepy. The two of you fell asleep as soon as you hit the expensive mattress and its softness.

Reaching for your phone, you check the time somehow thrown off to see it's barely seven in the morning. You've barely slept but you can't bring yourself to go back to sleep. You wish it was that easy.

Glancing at Haneul, you see him sleeping soundlessly and comfortably, something you secretly are jealous of. He looks peaceful, not moving an inch as his soft snores are muffled by the pillow while his face is pressed into it.

You lay there for a while, maybe five minutes, but even that seems to be too boring and the wooden ceiling is no different. You wish you could just lay there for the rest of the trip, not wanting to face Jungkook and the look of hurt once he finds out about your little confrontation with Kiko. Was it a confrontation though? Maybe he already knows, judging by the memory of his dark glare he sent you last night after Kiko whispered something to him and went upstairs.

Shortly, he went after her, maybe a few minutes later after you and Haneul bid everyone goodnight. Haneul's tipsiness was a perfect excuse to slip away from the party and avoid Taehyung's whines and pleads of another round of shots. At least you think it was Jungkook judging by the sound of footsteps. It sounded like his footsteps, stable and big but not loud enough.

Ah, this is torturing you.

Slipping off the bed, you stretch your arms and glance at Haneul for the last time before you decide to get ready for the day. You rummage through your suitcase for a moment before you pull out your toothbrush out of your mini travel bag. Your pajamas are decent enough, just a simple long sleeved and dark blue set with buttons in front. There's a low chance of anyone being awake right now, considering the four of you were the first ones to go upstairs. Who knows how long they partied.

Slowly opening the door, you walk out of the room and use the closest bathroom on the second floor. Yes, the floor has three bathrooms in total. You're not surprised at this point by the number of rooms, this cabin is huge.

The hallway is quiet and all of the rooms are closed, meaning everyone is still asleep like you thought. You can already tell you're going to be so tired and sleepy throughout the day, but the thought of going back to bed is non-existent at the moment. You've to occupy yourself and mostly your mind to keep yourself from overthinking everything. Maybe you should set a new plan of avoiding Jungkook.

You don't want to fight. You don't want to spill any more honesty at him, knowing it hurts him to see you and Kiko not getting along. It's you who don't want to get along, but it's only understandable. To be honest, you were a little bit petty in some moments and throughout the day. But your stubborn self doesn't regret it, maybe a little when you looked at Jungkook's disappointed eyes.

Reaching for the rounded handle of the bathroom, you twist it open and immediately stop at the sight in front of you. If you weren't so shocked, you'd probably laugh at the absurdity and coincidence.

Big eyed Jungkook stares at you surprised, a little taken aback from the sudden interruptance of him brushing his teeth. The toothbrush stays in his mouth as the toothpaste covers the corners of his mouth, while he stares at you with those doe eyes. His hair is messy and the scent of Jungkook's aftershave, the one he always uses, lingers in the air. You can notice the humidity in the bathroom meaning he had to take a shower just a few minutes ago.

The thought of running into him while he's taking a shower makes you embarrassed for some reason. It's not like you haven't seen him naked. And it's certainly not like you haven't taken a shower with him too. But things are different now.

"Mornin'," he mutters, voice muffled by the toothpaste before he leans down towards the sink and spits it there.

Your eyes travel down his body quickly, noticing him wearing his favorite pair of gray sweatpants and oversized black shirt. By the time Jungkook is straightening himself, your eyes linger on his face as you mutter a single 'morning' back at him.

"I'll just come back later." you tell him, giving him a tight smile and ready to run for those hills, the ones he mentioned yesterday when you bumped into him.

If your heart wasn't beating so fast by the unexpected presence of him, maybe you'd laugh at this too. Now that you think about it, it kind of makes sense he's awake. He's an early bird, but you would expect him to lay in bed with his girlfriend. Ah, there's that pettiness again...

"No, please don't go," he ushers to say, just as you're turning around. You stop, glancing at him with a slight furrow of your brows. "I mean, I'm almost finished. You don't have to leave, I'll just scoot back."

There's an evident raspiness in his morning voice and if you look closely, you can see his eyes are a little bit swollen with the lack of sleep. You can't say you look differently. You haven't seen yourself in the mirror but you're sure you don't look any different. From what you can see, Jungkook looks ready for the day while you're standing in the doorway with a messy bun and crinkled pajamas.

Maybe you could just turn around and insist on coming back later, knowing that'd just cause him to look like a kicked puppy that got rejected. Even now, he stares at you with a soft and pleading gaze that makes you let out a little sigh, as you close the door behind you.

"I didn't know anyone is in here," you tell him quietly, walking towards the sink where he's standing. "I didn't know anyone would be awake at this time, to be honest."

You set the cover from your toothbrush on the edge of the sink, next to a golden bottle of soap that looks certainly fancy and you know it smells like lavender because you used it yesterday.

"Couldn't sleep," Jungkook mutters, scooting back slightly just like he told you he would.

There's obvious tension in the air, it's not thick but surely recognizable. Or maybe it's just the awkwardness between you two because none of you voice out the elephant in the room.

You hum, silently agreeing with him as you put a small amount of toothpaste on your purple toothbrush. The two of you brush your teeth together, standing beside each other while every now and then one of you spits the toothpaste. Whenever Jungkook leans down to spit it out, you stare at the nape of his neck and his fluffy raven hair.

You can barely look at his face, clearly seeing him in the reflection of the mirror but you avoid just looking at it and you stare into the sink silently, all while brushing your teeth.

Jungkook is the first one done, putting his black toothbrush in one of the golden cups that match the soap's bottle. From your peripheral view you can clearly see him drying his mouth into a small towel.

While he's doing all that, you finish brushing your teeth and face quickly. The sound of water is a perfect reason to break the awkward silence. When you're all done, you put your toothbrush next to Jungkook's into the cup.

"Y/N, can we--"

"I gotta go." you squeak out, shutting your eyes in embarrassment as soon as you're turned with your back to him, rushing out of the bathroom to the safety of your room.

Fuck, that was so awkward and embarrassing. 

You feel bad, running away from him like that. Maybe it'd be better to just talk to him. It doesn't help that he literally looked and seemed so soft, almost vulnerable as he tried to talk to you but you just ignored him like that. You feel like a bitch, but your unknown fear got the best out of you.

You'll talk to him later. Next time he tries to talk to you, you'll just stay there and talk. Avoiding him is not going to solve anything, you try to tell yourself. You still have a few days to spend on this trip. You can't spend it avoiding your best friend. You came here to have fun, and with him too.

Haneul is still sleeping, which you can see when you come into the room, seeing him sprawled on the bed taking up the whole space. Leaning against the door, you stay there with your little guilt before you decide to put on some clothes.

Alright, if you see Jungkook today and he wants to talk, you will talk to him. You assure yourself as you're putting on black leggings, reaching for an oversized white sweater. It's fluffy and funnily enough, it brings comfort to your tense self.

You hear a set of footsteps, followed by hushed and distant voices. You wait for a moment, standing in the middle of the room fully dressed. Oh god, you feel ridiculous. What's the big deal? You'll come out of the room, not scared of anything and ready to face your best friend, not cowardly rushing out of the same room he is in.

This is ridiculous, you tell yourself as you peek from the room, silently opening the door. You mentally snort at yourself, your actions and thoughts completely acting differently.

You almost flinch when you see the bathroom's door being opened, the same one you and Jungkook were in and you almost fling back to the room. You stop yourself though, surprised to see sleepy and yawning Taehyung coming out of there. His hair is a mess and you giggle at the sight of him, moving slowly like an old grandpa before he starts walking in your direction.

His head lifts up, noticing your head peeking from the room almost immediately.

"You're an early bird, too?" he sleepily asks, not really looking for an answer as you let yourself come out of the room instead of ridiculously peeking from it.

"What do you mean?"

"I bumped into Jungkook in the bathroom." he explains, not noticing the way you awkwardly look away at the mention of him.

You don't burden him by saying you actually bumped into him too, quite unexpectedly, not wanting to give him another reason to ship you like he claimed he does, or used to. But he also looks too tired to fully even care about you and him. It's not important anyway.

"Aren't you an early bird too? You're up early." you tell him, chuckling as he stops beside you and fumbles his right eye while yawning.

"Oh no, I just wanted to take a piss and I'm going to grab some painkillers. My head is killing me after those tequila shots," he confesses, making you giggle at the mention of his famous tequila shots. "I'm not sure if I will be able to go back to sleep, my head is about to burst."

Your head maybe isn't about to go burst by the amount of alcohol you've drank yesterday, because it wasn't much. But you certainly won't be able to go back to sleep, and compared to Taehyung you're quite certain of that.

"Are you going downstairs? I think Jungkook is making himself breakfast."

Even through the sleepiness and puffiness of Taehyung's eyes, you almost panic when he looks at you curiously. "Ah, no. I need to do my make-up."

It's a lame excuse because you could care less about make-up right now. Fortunately, Taehyung just shrugs and goes downstairs lazily. You sigh of relief, going back to the room.

You play with your phone, killing some time by checking your social media and what everyone has been up to, until your phone vibrates with a new message from Taehyung.

TaeTae: meet me at the gym asap

You stare confusingly at the screen. You know Taehyung started working out, actually has grown quite interested in it for the past few weeks but he looked too tired to think about working out. Who knows, maybe he really can't go back to sleep and working out is a nice way of awakening him.

If you were interested in that activity too, maybe you'd try it. You're just too lazy to do any of that.

"I don't know where the gym is"

You text him back. Remembering Seokjin's talk he gave you after everyone came here, you do remember him mentioning there's a decent gym in the cabin too. Why? You don't know. You expect people to come here and relax, not spend time working out and being locked in a gym.

You don't get any message after that, growing quite annoyed at him for not responding back since he's the first one who texted you. Sighing, you decide to put some make-up after all. Nothing too much, just a light coat of make-up on your dark circles, to hide the lack of your sleep.

By the time you come downstairs, met with the emptiness of this cabin, you grow slightly annoyed by the amount of doors and different rooms. Trying to find the gym, you hear little clicking sounds on the other side of the room, the room at the very end of the hall. Looks like you found it.

You open the door, ready to curse at Taehyung for not texting you back but just as you open your mouth, your jaw almost falls down to the floor. Taehyung is nowhere to be seen, so your curse dies on your tongue as you see Jungkook instead.

There is him, working out shirtless and exposing all of his tattoos as he's lifting dumbbells, letting out a low grunt while his lips are pressed together. His previous black shirt is thrown over the flat bench press while he stands next to it, lifting the weights. Even those grey sweatpants lay low on his hips, making his v-line visible as it disappears underneath the hem. You gulp, especially by the evident soft bulge that's too evident and visible in those sweatpants.

The door closes after you with a loud thud, causing him to look up and your eyes meet immediately, too late to back out. It's not like you thought about it because you're still quite shocked to see him here. Especially his current appearance.

"Great, you came." he says through a grunt, putting down the dumbbells with a hollow thud.

Suddenly it all makes sense.

"You're the one who texted me."

He looks you straight in the eyes, reaching for the towel as he wipes the sweat dripping down his chest. You stand in the same place, not being able to move as your feet seem glued to the floor.

He did use Taehyung's phone who mindlessly put it on the kitchen counter, while he searched for the painkillers. Shamefully, Jungkook reached for his phone and texted you from it without his friend knowing.

"Would you come here if I texted you from my phone number or if you knew it was me?" he asks casually, tossing the towel next to his shirt as you keep your eyes attached to his face.

You do it purposely, not trusting yourself to look elsewhere. He is making you frustrated, there's no point denying that.

You purse your lips in answer, getting a deadpanned 'exactly' from Jungkook.

Not bringing yourself to answer, you cross your arms over your chest to hide your discomfort.

"Can we talk? I know you've been avoiding me." he says straight away, noticing the way your cheeks flush at his bluntness and the fact he's right.

You bite into the inside of your cheek, thinking about it for a moment before you sigh, walking towards him.

There are so many different gym equipment, you're not even sure what's the half of it but you decide to come up to the pommel horse. You hop on it, sitting on it between two big handles while swinging your legs slightly.

"Okay, let's talk." you murmur, looking at Jungkook who's closing the lid of a water bottle which he drank from and tosses it on the floor.

"What happened yesterday?" he asks, not beating around the bush as you tense for a second before you give him a simple shrug.

"What do you mean?"

The corner of his mouth quirks up in an amused smirk, head slightly shaking as he looks up, staring right back at you.

"Don't do this," he says, "Don't pretend as if you don't know what I'm talking about."

"I'm not pretending. Elaborate, a lot happened yesterday." you tell him honestly, even if you get an idea what he's talking about. You don't make it known to yourself, but you tense a little at the fact he sees right through you.

You're just being reminded how well he knows you.

"That's it, I don't know what exactly happened but I know it had something to do with you."

You scoff at that, "Me? Sounds to me like everything is my fault."

Jungkook shakes his head, walking towards you as he stops just a meter away from your sitting figure. You swing your legs slightly, trying to look careless and clueless but it's just a way to ease down your nervosity.

"That's not what I meant," he tells you, "I'm sorry if I hurt you by talking to you in the grocery shop."

"You didn't hurt me," you correct him, "You annoyed me. The more you pressure me and give me those pep-talks, the more I'm annoyed." you confess, surprised how easy that came out of you.

On another note, talking to Jungkook has always been easy.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes, "I didn't want to make you feel as if I'm pressuring you. You know why I talked to you about that specifically."

"Yes, because of Kiko. Because that's all you seem to think and care about." you point out.

"That's not true. I think and care about you too."

You scoff at that, shaking your head slightly while your hands grasp the edges of the pommel horse. Who the fuck exercises on this? It's quite high too. You barely jumped on it.

"Do you?" you deadpan sarcastically, hearing him sigh.

"You know why I talked to you about that. It wasn't just about Kiko. You don't have to be friends with her, I'd never ask you to do that. But you know how important your acceptance is for me. I care about you too, Y/N, don't ever question that."

"Why is it even that important to you? My acceptance. I told you I respect your decision and it's your relationship, leave me out of it."

"You're not making it very easy to leave you out of it when you sometimes react the way you do," he points out, causing you to scowl at him. "You know what I'm talking about. Anyone could tell you're not pleased to be around Kiko. But are you really respecting my decision though?"

"Well, I haven't told her what a bitch she is." you shrug, Jungkook glaring at you as you just simply and innocently shrug back.

"This is what I'm talking about," he says, "You know she cried in our room before the party? It hurts her to know you don't like her. And you don't have to like her, but please, tone down your obvious dislike and let's not be childish. Not just for her, but it's not easy for me to watch too."

"You're fucking confusing." you spit, but he doesn't seem surprised.

"How am I confusing? The two most important people in my life don't get along and I don't know what to fucking do about it. Do you know how much it bothers me? I understand you, I'm trying to tell myself that you're like this because you're my best friend. But don't you get it, it's not easy for me too?"

"I know it's not," you mumble, looking down into your lap. "I just can't help it. I don't trust her."

Jungkook stays silent for a moment, but you see him rub his face.

"I know something happened between you two yesterday. I just don't know what. Kiko won't tell me anything."

This means Kiko hasn't told him about your conversation. You've no idea why not. You'd expect her to tell him and maybe cry on his shoulder, but she didn't.

"And why do you assume it has something to do with me straight away? Why am I always the bad guy?" you exclaim, growing frustrated but only because he's not stupid and catching onto something.

"Nobody is saying you're the bad guy for fucks sake," Jungkook sighs exhaustedly, "But I told you you're awful at lying and I could see the guilt on your face last night from miles away."

What Jungkook remembers is Kiko coming up to him, saying she's heading to the bed because she's tired. It didn't take him long to notice the weird shift in her features until he figured she's hiding something. Her voice was soft and she didn't want to talk long sentences, as if she was scared her voice would break. She tried to brush him off whenever he voiced his worry, asked what happened but she would just shake her head and tell him she's just tired and the wine must've got to her head. But he knew that wasn't true, she wasn't nowhere near drunk. She seemed hurt, like seconds from crying but before Jungkook could try to get her to talk, she quickly rushed away.

And that's when he saw you already looking at their interaction, staring at Jungkook with the guilt in your eyes. He had the gut feeling you knew what that was about.

Pursing your lips, you wonder what to tell him. You're not sure what is the right thing to say. There's no point in lying.

"Okay, fine. We talked last night," you exclaim, a little frustrated, "But in my defense, she came up to me and wanted to talk. I was very successful at ignoring her and minding my own business." you add, seeing Jungkook roll his eyes.

"Okay, what she wanted to talk about?"

"Bullshit, what else." you mutter dryly.

"Y/N, I'm trying to have a decent conversation." Jungkook reminds you, frowning at you as you sigh.

"Fine," you roll your eyes, "But it's still bullshit if you ask me," Jungkook pinches the bridge of his nose as you quickly put your arms in surrender. "She wanted to... I don't know be friends with me?"

"Okay, what did she tell you?" Jungkook nods, listening to you carefully.

"She asked me if I'm having fun. She wanted to talk to me, but I told her straight away that I've no interest in playing friends with her. Then she mentioned we should at least try for your sake," His features soften and you roll your eyes. "So I gave her a piece of my mind."

Jungkook's look drops and he frowns at you. "What exactly did you tell her?"

"Exactly, you mean like in detail?"

"Oh for fucks sake Y/N, yes!" Jungkook exclaims, causing you to frown and pout at the same time before you sigh annoyingly.

"I told her she should've thought about your sake sooner," you shrug, proud of yourself because yes, you told her the truth. Even if it wasn't necessary. "Then I told her that I'm already thinking about your sake. And I told her I won't be a bitch towards her but I'm not gonna pretend that I like her."

Jungkook doesn't seem pleased by that, but he nods nevertheless trying to process what you've just told him.

"I know you don't like her, but she's trying. Don't you see that?" he asks silently, sounding tired from all of this.

"I don't want her trying. I want her to leave me the fuck alone." you tell him, not waiting a second before you burst at him.

"Well, I think you accomplished that," he tells you sarcastically, "I'm sure she won't bother you anymore."

"Good." you shrug, acting carelessly as if you're completely pleased. You're glad she will leave you alone. But there's a certain amount of guilt because you're being petty. You can see how much it affects Jungkook and you're hurting him with his.

"You know, I asked you if you wanted to come here and I warned you she'll be here. And I still expected you--"

"What? To suddenly like her? Newsflash, I don't!" you interrupt him, raising your voice as you see Jungkook clench his teeth.

"No, I expected you to at least respect her like you promised me."

"I am respecting her!"

"'Can you two shut up I can't hear him?' Does that sound familiar? Or the fact you literally pulled Haneul just because she tried to talk to him? Or the constant stares and puffs of annoyance? Does that ring the bell?"

"I'm protecting my boyfriend." you point out lamely, seeing his features twist in both annoyance and hurt at the same time.

"Is that your idea of respecting her?" he ignores your unnecessary remark about protecting your boyfriend.

"Why do you care so much?"

"Because you two mean so much to me!" he exclaims, "Because it breaks my heart to stand between you two, feeling like I'm hurting one of you everytime something like this happens."

His shoulders slouch visibly, fingers brushing through his thick hair as he lets out an exhausted sigh.

"Stop saying it as if we're both the same thing. She's your girlfriend and I'm your best friend. You shouldn't care this much about what I think."

You're not sure why you're saying this. Maybe giving him advice not to care what you think is a good thing. It obviously affects him and hurts him. On another hand, it makes your cold attitude soften a little knowing he cares what you think this much.

"But I do care about what you think. You've always been there for me, even when she hasn't."

He's talking about when she broke up with him and when he found out she cheated on him.

You see the vulnerability written all over his face, not even the frown can mask it.

And you can't take it. You can't see him like this, it only makes you even more sad and it's almost as if you could feel his emotions just by looking at him.

"I should go, we talked and I--" you rush to jump down from the pommel horse, squeaking when Jungkook stands right in front of you and grabs the handles, caging you.

You stare at him with wide eyes. Seeing him up this close makes you stop breathing for a second, especially surprised by the sudden movement. Despite him working out for some time, or the sweat you saw rolling down his chest when you first came here, he doesn't stink at all. You can smell the faint scent of his aftershave and see the roots of his hair wetted by the sweat. Some of it is stuck to the sides of his face.

Jungkook stares right back at you, frowning at your sudden and desperate need for departure as he holds you in place. He's not touching you, but he's so freaking close that you see every little imperfection on his face. The image is awfully familiar to all those times when you were intimate. Those were the most frequent moments you got to see him like this.

It seems like the moment stops when his eyes drop down to your lips and you wet them with the tip of your tongue, your eyes dropping to his too. The tension could be cut, reminding you of all those moments you shared together. The reality hits you and you panic, all the blood rushing to your face as you let out a squeak and you push him.

The contact of your hands grasping his exposed shoulders almost electrifies you. Jungkook seems to be caught off guard, stumbling a little as you jump off the gym equipment too quickly. It causes you to land on your feet messily, your ankle twisting slightly as you stumble and wince from the sudden jolt of pain.

Jungkook's eyes widen and he seems to be worried, ready to rush towards you to help you. You quickly outstretch your arms to stop him.

"Don't come any closer," you tell him, "Stay right there."

He looks a little baffled, blinking at you but staying frozen in his spot. "I just wanted to help," he says gently.

"I'm fine." you assure him quickly, still feeling the weird pain in your ankle when you step on it but it's not that bad.

"Okay." he almost whispers, staring at you as if you can't bring yourself to look him in the eyes.

But you brace yourself to go, taking a few steps to check your ankle but also to give some space between you two. You can't be the only one who felt that. You can't be the only one who seemed to freeze. But Jungkook seems nothing but worried, meanwhile you're being awkward and innerly panicking.

You're about to walk out of the gym, turning around to glance at Jungkook who stands there like a lost boy.

"Kook," you call out to him softly, features softening when he looks at you with those doe eyes. "You can't make everything perfect and you can't make everyone love each other."

You touch the knob, stopping when you hear Jungkook.

"Y/N," he calls out to you, seeing you glance at him one more time. "Are we fine? I don't want to fight."

"We're fine, Kook." Are you? 

He nods, nibbling on his lower lip as you can't bring yourself to look at his innocent face any longer. You rush out of the gym, already hearing some rustling coming from the kitchen. However, you rush into the room with your heartbeat drumming in your ears and it doesn't calm down even when you make it there.

And it doesn't calm down even when Haneul slowly wakes up, greeting you with the laziest and sweetest smile on his lips, wishing you good morning.

Everyone wakes up from their deep slumber, one by one, occupying downstairs and bathrooms to get ready for the day. With Hoseok and Seokjin being in charge of today's breakfast, everyone chats in the dining room. With nine people in the room who keep talking, the room quickly becomes loud and lively, but it's nowhere near the loudness you got to experience during yesterday's party.

Seokjin assures his wife to stay seated whenever she wants to help them, or mainly help poor Hoseok who seems to be struggling with holding three plates in both hands. He scolds her, giving a small kiss on the top of her head which makes your heart soften. They look so in love. The shining rings on both of their fingers are perfectly shown for everyone to see. You did see them exchanging them on their wedding day after all.

Seeing married couples on the street, or just Seokjin and Jia specifically, makes you wonder how your wedding will look like. You sure are that kind of girl who wants to get married eventually, settle down with the one you love. Is it Haneul?

Is he the right one? It's too early to say right now, both of you are still adjusting to your relationship. Your first relationship wasn't bad. Haechen isn't a bad guy, he just wasn't the right one. And Haneul never really had a serious relationship, so this is even more new to him – being in a serious relationship with you while still trying to get to know you and figure out how this whole thing about relationship works. To be honest, you're still trying to figure that out too.

You like him. You really do.

Just as Hoseok hovers over you to set a bowl of boiled eggs, he manages to bump into your glass of water by accident causing some of it to pour.

"Shit," he curses, putting down the bowl as you're already grabbing the napkin and patting the table dry. "I'm so sorry."

"Yah, Hobi!" Seokjin scolds him, frowning at his friend's clumsiness as Hoseok offers him a crooked smile.

"It's okay," you assure him, grabbing some of Haneul's napkin which your lovely boyfriend hands you. "It can happen to anyone."

You look at Hoseok, giving him an assuring smile which he returns, apologizing for the last time before he asks you to hand him the wet napkins to throw them away. You do tell him you can throw it away by yourself, he doesn't have to serve you.

"It's okay, let me do this. It was my fault anyway." he tells you, thanking you as he takes the napkins from your hands and retrieves them back to the kitchen to take care of them.

As everyone eats their breakfast, Jungkook too because apparently the one he made for himself in the morning after he woke up just wasn't enough, Seokjin shares his plan for today. You weren't informed of the local Ski resort nearby the cabin, although you did notice its board during the ride here. As Seokjin shares his own experience and excitement about skiing, a few people already agree to go with him. He assures there's a place where you can rent snowboards and skis among other important and very much needed ski equipment for skiing.

You're not surprised by Jungkook's excitement, his head already nodding when Seokjin asks him if he's joining too.

"Of course I'm hyung," Jungkook says with a full mouth, causing a little amused snicker to get past your lips. He's sitting on the opposite side of the table, a few seats across from you but you can still see the way his eyes shine.

Jimin and Taehyung look quite excited too, agreeing to come as well along with Hoseok. However, there are exceptions such as Namjoon who shakes his head when Jimin asks him about going too.

"I don't want to break my neck, plus I want to survive until next year." he jokes, but there is a little seriousness in his voice that makes everyone chuckle.

Maya laughs, putting a hand on his shoulder assuringly as she also agrees not to go.

"Do you wanna go?" Haneul asks you, stuffing his mouth with cereals as you shake your head.

"Not really," you answer, "You?"

"I don't know, I'd like to spend some time with you rather than skiing." he admits, causing you to give him a smile as you both agree to stay back and not join the others.

"Maybe we could go as a group and look around the town? I searched on the internet and apparently they've this huge market of different kinds of shops. It'd be fun to go and check that out. Maybe you guys could join us?" Maya asks, sitting right on the opposite side of the table and from you, her brown eyes peering at you excitedly beaming with friendliness.

"That sounds fun. What do you think?" you ask Haneul, who straight away seems intrigued and agrees. "Okay, sounds like a plan." you tell, looking at Maya and Namjoon who seem to be happy.

When everyone is done eating, the groups already start to form and Hoseok starts to count how many of them are going to the Ski resort.

"Okay, seven of us are going and four of them are going into town." Hoseok tells Seokjin, while Seokjin shakes his head.

"Ah, Jia is not going with us," he explains, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. Hoseok asks why, confused since the two of them barely went somewhere separately.

Maybe they're still in their honeymoon phase. Well, at least they're not fighting like a married couple that's been married for forty years.

"She doesn't want to," Seokjin simply explains, zipping his jacket when he looks at you and the rest of the guys that are going to the town. "Y/N, Namjoon, is it okay if Jia joins you? I don't want to leave her alone here and she's too stubborn to let me stay here."

"Yeah, sure."

"Of course."

You and Namjoon tell him straight away, causing Seokjin to call for Jia who waves at Kiko and Jungkook as she walks towards her husband. She looks questionably at him, while Seokjin explains she could join you which she seems to be okay with. They talk for a moment, your attention focused elsewhere since the couple bid their goodbye with a kiss which seems too intimate for you to look at.

Maya shows you some articles about the market, everyone attentionally watching and agreeing with the plan.

"We can figure out what to do there later, maybe we'll find something fun to do..." you hear Haneul say, everyone agreeing with him.

You're going to grab your own jacket which is hanging on one of the racks in the corridor. It takes you a few seconds to spot it underneath all the jackets and coats there, but you manage to find it just as Jungkook comes to take his own jacket.

"You should've come with us," he tells you, putting on his jacket as you zip your own. "I could've taught you how to crash those slopes."

You laugh at that, shaking your head. "I'd rather not hurt myself. Trying to learn how to ski or snowboard seems kinda dangerous."

"Oh come on, you once told me you want to learn how to snowboard." Jungkook points out with a grin on his lips, black beanie covering his dark hair.

"Yeah, today is not the day, Jeon," you tell him, patting his forearm through his padded jacket as he snickers at you. "Besides, there will be more opportunities for you to teach me how to snowboard."

"You think so?" he asks, brows shot up upwards for a few seconds. "I'll hold you to that."

Playfully rolling your eyes, you agree with him. "Be careful, okay?"

Jungkook is an adventurous type, he loves adventure and can be sometimes too reckless. You're not going to lie, you're kind of scared for him. You know it's been a while since he went snowboarding last time.

"Don't worry, if something happens to me I'll make sure to leave you my car." he jokes, causing you to frown as you smack him in the arm.

"Don't even joke about that," you frown, not amused by his joke and at the thought of something happening to him makes your stomach clench. "I'm serious."

"Alright, alright," he cackles, "I'll be careful, mom. You've my word."

You cringe, scrunching your nose as clear 'ew' leaves your mouth. "Is this how you feel when I call you dad?"

"Pretty much," Jungkook nods, "I'll call you that whenever you call me dad. It's a nice revenge, thanks for the idea."

You roll your eyes. "You know what? I hope you'll fall down your ass the moment you step on the snowboard."

Jungkook cackles, snorting as he purses his lips. "I love you too."

Again, you roll your eyes waving him off. "Whatever."

His laugh is the last thing you hear before your name is being called by Namjoon, everyone waiting for you so you can check out the town.

Downtown has its own charm as the five of you've managed to walk through the fish market so far. The smell isn't exactly your favorite, but it's definitely interesting to see the wide selection of their assortment when it comes to fish and seafood in general.

Jia without Seokjin looks a bit lonely, which causes you to glance at her every now and then, thinking of ways to talk to her. It's not like you're nervous but you're not quite sure if you're the right person she wants to start a conversation with. You don't judge people, you don't even know her that much.

But the fact she's Kiko's friend makes you very unsure. You've no idea what the dark red haired woman thinks of you. Does Kiko call you a bitch behind your back? She doesn't look like the type to do so, but you don't know Kiko as well. And apparently, you've never known her well enough since she shocked all of you. Especially when she broke up with Jungkook and it was later revealed why.

"Is it weird I actually feel sorry for it?"

Apparently, your hesitation is solved when Jia is the first one to speak, standing right next to you as she stares at the octopus in a huge tank.

"What? That it gets killed and eaten later?" you ask, her amused snort erupting from her mouth as she nods.

"The smell makes me nauseous though." she comments, covering her mouth with a hand as she looks around, almost as if she's waiting for some weird and unappreciative stares from the owners.

"I think it makes everyone nauseous," you admit, "But I think boys like it." you say, glancing at Haneul and Namjoon who happily conversate with one of the owners as he shows them dried fish.

Maya stands there listening too, although you see her scrunch her nose very discreetly when the owner grabs the fish causing its smell to linger even more in the air.

"They're weird," Jia says, scrunching her own nose as she stares at the two men that look like little boys on an excursion. "I don't think I've talked to you properly before. You went to the wedding, right?"

It's true. You've never really talked to her, besides the short and brief greetings at the wedding and this time, when you came to the cabin.

"Yeah, it was a beautiful wedding."

She smiles at that, appreciating your compliment. "Thank you."

You're not sure what else to say, it feels somehow hard trying to make a conversation with her because all you can think of is what she probably thinks of you. Does she know about you and Jungkook? Did Kiko tell her? You wouldn't be too surprised if she did. She is her best friend after all. You're not one to care about what others think, but right now you feel slightly uncomfortable at the thought of her own thoughts about you.

Luckily, the rest of the group saves you from the beginning of awkward silence as you see them approaching you, ready to get past the seafood section.

You taste a few local meals and drinks after that, just something to keep you warm. It might not be the most adventurous trip, but it feels nice to just walk around even when your cheeks are painted red and you can see a cloud of your breath whenever you breathe out. Not even Haneul's hand gripping yours helps that much, but you do appreciate its own warmth.

You and Maya decide to go to one of the souvenir shops across the street, meanwhile Haneul, Namjoon and Jia decide to just sit down at one of the coffee shops and drink their hot chocolates.

Maya is a very nice person to talk to. Warm. That's how you'd probably describe her and she suits Namjoon well. You can understand why their relationship seems so pure and full of love. She jokes too, which adds just a few points to your imaginary board of how you feel about her.

She seems to be a little bit more loud than Namjoon is. Meanwhile it seems like everytime Namjoon talks, everything that comes out of his mouth is smart and sentimental. Maya seems to talk about whatever is on her mind, not really thinking about it before she says it. She surprises you with her randomness but you like it.

You're kind of similar, not scared to say anything and it feels like the two of you just clicked as soon as you got to speak more.

"You won't believe it," Maya says, rummaging through different keychains as her mouth stretches into a huge smile at your question.

You just asked her how she and Namjoon met. She was the first one who mentioned it will be their second year anniversary.

"But it was in a club."

"What?" you let out surprised, "Namjoon in a club? That sounds kinda surprising. I'd expect you to meet in a park or something." Hence Namjoon's love towards nature and outdoor activity which includes hiking, reading books and taking random walks through parks. He did mention to you his love for those activities on a camping trip.

"I know, exactly, right?" she laughs, "It wasn't anything romantic, though. It wasn't like he spilled his drink on me or bumped into me. I was actually the one who approached him and bought him a drink."

That surprises you, pleasingly surprises you and it causes you to giggle. "Wow, that's amazing."

"Pretty bold of me, I know," she laughs with you, placing a keychain of a tree with town's name in the background into her small shopping cart. "I'm not usually that bold, but I just knew I had to introduce myself when I saw him."

It makes you smile.

"So, how did you and Haneul meet?"

"You're not gonna believe it, but it was in a club too. He actually helped me when one of the older men bugged me. I've a part-time job there, well until I save enough to buy a better car. But yeah, he was actually pretty bold about saving me and then he wanted to buy me a drink."

"Aw, that's so romantic! He looks like a cute puppy," Maya says, causing you to laugh but you don't exactly disagree with her. He definitely looks like a cute puppy. "That's way more romantic than my and Joon's story. So how did you guys start dating?"

"Well, it wasn't right away. He was very sweet and kinda flirty that night but he was there with his friends, and I was obviously working. So there wasn't that much place to talk or get to know each other. But then I went there with my friends, not working that time, and he was there again. Oh, my boss also told me he was there during a week and clearly was looking for me which Haneul actually confirmed. He bought me a drink, we talked and danced after that. And then he asked me on a date which I agreed to right away." you explain, smiling at the faint memory but it's not that long ago since it happened.

"You guys are so cute!" she coos, walking through another aisle and you follow behind her. "Does he live in Seoul?"

So you talk to her, answering her questions as she's trying to get to know you. When you get back to the rest of the group, the nice atmosphere remains. You feel your phone ring with a new notification when Namjoon stands up to go pay, as you take a sip from Haneul's, not so hot chocolate anymore.

Kook: look at this mom

It's a video, you click on it and your heart almost drops at the evident sight of Jungkook doing a snowboard trick. It's nothing dramatic, but enough to widen your eyes when you see him in the air for a few seconds before he safely lands onto ground and snow, stable as if he's been doing it for years. You can hear the distant cheers from the guys.

"Is that Jungkook?" Haneul asks, glancing at your phone as you nod.

Namjoon already comes back, glancing at your phone too for a moment before he sits back to his previous spot.

"Yeah."

"Wow, he's so good at snowboarding." he comments, genuinely sounding impressed as he urges you to press play again on the video.

It catches Namjoon's attention. "Who? Jungkook?"

You and Haneul nod.

"That kid is amazing at everything. Seriously, he has a talent for everything."

Haneul agrees, praising Jungkook's skills once again as the conversation leads elsewhere but you're not a part of it as you let your thumbs tap against the screen.

"you're really crazy"

"don't let your real mom see this, she'll flip out"

You wait for a few seconds for his message which comes in a minute.

Kook: idk i feel like you do an amazing job at that

Kook: i'm careful, don't worry ;)

You roll your eyes, sending him thumbs up. You can picture him grinning at your message so clearly. He knows you're slightly annoyed at him but there's an amused smile playing on your lips as you place your phone back in your pocket.

He really is crazy. But you're not surprised, not even a bit. It's Jungkook after all.

You've spent most of the day in town, still tasted a bunch of local food to the point you felt your stomach getting food and in no need for lunch. However, guys felt it differently and whined they're hungry, plus with Jia discreetly hinting she's tired from all the walking and doesn't feel too well, that was your clue to go back to Namjoon's car and drive back to the cabin.

It was around lunch time that guys came back from their skiing trip, completely hungry so the kitchen and the dining room were fully occupied. After Haneul ate, he joined you in the living room as you silently browsed through your phone. He sat next to you, doing the same thing until his phone rang. With his mom calling again, he excused himself to get some privacy considering loud chattering from the dining room but also from the rooms around you could be very much heard.

It's only when Haneul comes back with evident frown and sadness clouding his usually soft features that you notice something is wrong. You straighten yourself, sitting properly from your slouched position as you watch him sit next to you with worried eyes.

"What happened?" You place your hand over his shoulder, noticing how tense he seems to be.

"It's my grandma," he mutters, sighing. "Apparently they had to call an ambulance, she had a stroke. Thank god my mom was there."

"I'm so sorry," you say immediately, moving closer to him as you hug him. "How is she right now?"

"Stable," he answers, sighing. "I'm sorry, I'm probably ruining the mood right now."

"Are you serious?" you frown, "Don't apologize because of this. Do you wanna go home? Maybe we could ask one of the guys to drive us back, or we could find a train station to get back to Seoul."

Haneul glances at you, his eyes softening but there is still that hurt in his brown eyes, from the sudden news of his grandmother's condition. "You're amazing," he says simply, causing you to chuckle as you glance down almost embarrassingly.

"But no, my mom told me to stay here. They're there with her and my uncle is on his way there too, it wouldn't be good for too many people to be there anyway. They don't even let them stay in her room for too long." he tells you which you agree with, nodding.

"I'm sorry, I hope she'll be okay." you tell him, cuddling to him as he wraps his arm around you, hugging you.

Haneul calls with his parents throughout the day a couple of times, luckily bringing good news as his grandmother seems to be okay. Of course, she still had a stroke which is definitely not good but he could talk to her over the phone. She sounded tired and slow, according to Haneul, but he feels so much better after hearing her and talking to her.

Universe seems to work in a completely interesting and different way, something you've been telling yourself quite lately. Or maybe it's just pure confidence and this is how life goes.

Everyone is slightly confused when Seokjin calls everyone to the "main room" as he calls it. Living room is that one room referenced as that. The huge living room with an amazing fireplace and huge windows that gives a great view of trees and mountains behind you.

The pair acts odd, even though they cheekily smile at each other as they stand on the little steps. It reminds you of when you came here and Seokjin welcomed everyone. This time however, Jia is standing next to him beaming at her husband. You do notice you're not the only one confused at the sudden act of gathering everyone.

Did something happen? Will everyone have to go home and make other plans for the New Year?

Regardless of your curiosity, and a slight panic too, the couple seems relaxed but excited at the same time as they whisper something to each other for the last time before Seokjin clears his throat.

"What is this about?" you ask Jungkook quietly, glancing at your friend who seems equally confused as he just shrugs.

Only one person doesn't look confused like the rest of you do, and that one person is Kiko. She's sitting on another couch, surprisingly not next to Jungkook but at the very end with Namjoon beside her.

Kiko is trying to hide her smile by casually crossing her legs while she plops her chin onto her palm. Her fingers cover her mouth, although you do notice how happy she seems to be at the sight of her best friend. Jia offers her smile that somehow seems shaky but Kiko just gives her a thumbs up.

Before you can study her behavior any longer, Seokjin starts talking.

"We didn't want to do this dramatically but me and Jia talked, it was actually very much planned but we didn't know how to tell you guys,"

Everyone seems to be quiet, too curious about what this is about. But Seokjin doesn't wait for any reaction before he continues, but not before he looks at Jia for one last time before he locks their hands together.

"We're having a baby!"

That's when the sound of genuine happiness and excitement resounds through the whole room, Jimin and Hoseok already standing up to tell their congratulations as they hug the couple. You smile, genuinely happy for the pair.

Suddenly, it all makes sense. Jia not skiing with her husband. Her sudden distaste at the market and when she told you she's tired and doesn't feel too well. You wouldn't have guessed it's because she's been pregnant this whole time. However, she's not your friend and you haven't been paying that much attention to her.

Jungkook is standing up, grinning at Seokjin as he walks towards them. You and Haneul do the same thing, wanting to personally congratulate them because it's polite and it's the least you can do.

You see Kiko hugging Jia, both women excitedly squealing.

"I know they're best friends but damn, I feel left out." Maya jokes next to you, making her presence known as you snort at her.

You can't tell you don't feel otherwise. It's been pretty clear they're best friends this whole time. If Jia wasn't with Seokjin, she was with Kiko for sure. You and Maya are the only other women in this cabin, and it's been known Jia and Kiko didn't make that much effort to "invite" you to their circle. Not that you want that, but it's just a thought that Maya clearly has too.

Plus, you're very much fine with spending your time here with your actual friends.

"...congrats, man. I can't believe you're about to be a dad!" you hear Jungkook tell Seokjin, slapping him on the shoulder which causes the older groan in pain.

"Tell me something about it, I'm surrounded by guys. I can't possibly imagine them squealing like them if I ever get pregnant." you joke, glancing at Jia and Kiko who seem to be just as happy and loud as before.

Jungkook turns around, almost bumping into you as he glances down at you. "You're not planning to get pregnant, are you?" he jokes, grinning at you mischievously. Of course, he heard you and of course he has to react.

Maya giggles, you're not sure if it's because of what Jungkook said or the way you roll your eyes and poke him in the stomach, which does nothing. This man is like a rock.

"What, you don't want to be an uncle?" you play along, arching your brow at him daringly as he seems to be caught off guard by your question. He coughs before his previous grin spreads on his lips again.

"At least wait until your boyfriend finishes college." he jabs at you, poking you in your ribs causing you to flinch as you slap his hands away.

You know he's just making fun, but you do think it was an unnecessary comment because he makes it look as if he jabbed more at Haneul's age and the fact he's younger.

"Why? Young daddies are hot." you react, shaking yourself from your thoughts and the uncomfortable feeling in your chest that Jungkook caused.

Jungkook shakes your head at you while he's trying to hide his own amused grin by rubbing his nose.

Maya laughs, nodding at you. "They sure are." she agrees with you, somehow saving you without even knowing.

You arch your brow at Jungkook again, silently saying 'See?' but he just rolls his eyes playfully before he wraps his arm around your neck, awfully familiar to a headlock.

"Let me go, you idiot." you curse at him, trying to jab him with your elbow but he moves his body every time you try to do so.

His laugh fills your ears and you can't help but be annoyed and laugh at him at the same time. He doesn't hold you tightly, not that it's too uncomfortable or painful. Eventually, he lets you go and ruffles your hair which makes you try to knee him in the crotch.

He's so annoying. He really is because he grabs your knee effortlessly and sets it down.

"Careful, I need that."

You roll your eyes, scrunching your nose at him. "Of course, you do."

"What, you don't want to be an aunt?" You hear him mischievously say behind you, laughing and leaving when he is satisfied with the glare you give him across your shoulder.

You finally get the chance to congratulate Seokjin and Jia, Haneul joins you just as you're hugging Seokjin. You didn't even notice him not following you because he chatted to Hoseok and Taehyung.

Congratulating Jia doesn't feel as awkward since you got to spend a day together. Even with Kiko standing next to her, you can feel her eyes on you and just as you're about to walk away, you glance at her. She does seem a little awkward, but she offers you a tiny smile.

You do your best at trying to smile at her, ending up with you doing a weird mixture of your lips curving but hey, you smiled at her. And it's the effort that counts, right?

After everyone congratulated the happy couple about their news, Seokjin proposed celebrating it tomorrow since Jia started to feel a little nauseous and tired anyway. He did take a shot with the guys, a lot more slaps on the back and bro hugs before he joined his wife in their bedroom. Not long after that, you and Haneul decided to retrieve back to your rooms when both of you started yawning.

It takes a longer time for Haneul to fall asleep, this time you're the first one who falls asleep right after. However, you do wake up around midnight not being able to sleep. You toss around for a few minutes, glancing at Haneul and checking on him but luckily, he seems to be sleeping peacefully. Today definitely had a sudden twist for him.

You feel your throat dry, in need to at least have a gulp of water which you usually keep a bottle of water on your nightstand. The only difference is that you do it at home, and you're not home now and you completely forgot to do that here. Deciding it's better to have some water and then go back to sleep, you put on your slippers and get off the bed.

The cabin is dark but there are automatic night lights in the hallway, so you're not too scared to fall or suddenly bump into something. You definitely don't want to break one of those expensive vases. If you were about to pay for it, you'd have to sell your shitty car which most likely costs way less than the actual vase.

Downstairs is a bit trickier, without night lights you can see stable shadows of the furniture and the moonlight peeking from some of the windows. Those wide windows they put here are suddenly a lot more practical than just pleasing for the eye. You hear some rustling and as you peek behind the corner, you audibly jump at the sudden presence.

Even in the lack of lightning you can make out Jungkook's obvious figure, standing just behind the kitchen island and as you come closer, you notice a spoon in his mouth while he watches you with big eyes.

"Look at you," you muse quietly but amusingly, you walk closer to him and enter the kitchen fully.

He realizes it's you and he chuckles, pulling the spoon out of his mouth. He has something in his hands but it's hard to tell what it is.

"First the morning and now we meet at midnight. Are you sure you're not stalking me?" you tease, walking around the kitchen island to stand next to him.

Ah, ice cream. Of course. Jungkook sets the ice cream down on the kitchen counter, chuckling a bit as he stares at you amusingly.

"You're the one bumping into me. Are you sure you're not the stalker?"

"Touché," you muse, causing him to laugh silently. "Can't sleep?" you ask, as you pull a bottle of water from the fridge. It's cold--

"Yeah, I was hungry," he says, "Don't drink it, it's too cold."

You snicker, shaking your head. Of course, you won't drink it this cold. You'll wait for a few minutes. You really don't want to have a sore throat on NYE, or anytime actually.

"I wasn't about to drink it straight away," you point out, setting the bottle down on the counter. "Aren't you the one eating ice cream at midnight and in the winter?" you raise your brow at him, his little laugh met with your ears almost right away.

"Touché," he nods, "What about you? Can't sleep too?"

"I just woke up with a dry throat." you shrug, hopping on the kitchen counter right next to Jungkook where he is standing and leaning against the edge of it with his butt. He's too tall for it to reach it down to his lower back.

He nods understandably to your words, scooping a little bit of ice cream onto the spoon before he puts it in his mouth.

"Want some?" he asks you, offering you a spoon which you gladly take. He angles you the medium sized bucket that looks small in his hands, to let you scoop it.

"I heard about Haneul's grandma, how is he doing?" he asks you as you taste the chocolate brownie flavor.

"Relatively good, I guess," you shrug, "She's stable and he spoke to her over the phone, so I guess that eased his mind a lot."

Jungkook nods, staring into the darkness as the two of you stay silent for a few minutes, just casually standing and sitting in the kitchen while exchanging the spoon to eat ice cream.

"I'm glad you're here, y'know," Jungkook suddenly speaks, voice low and soft. "I know I annoyed you and pissed you off on this trip a lot, I didn't mean to... it's just..."

You notice it's hard for him to explain it, but you know what he wants to say. You shake your head, reassuringly squeezing his arm but you end up squeezing and touching his bicep. Damn, you forgot how hard those muscles feel. It's only now, when your hand meets his exposed skin, you realize that he's wearing an oversized shirt with boxers only. Thank god, it's too dark to see your widened eyes and the look you're giving his exposed legs. And thank god it's too dark for you to see it precisely.

You forgot that Jungkook gets very hot during the night. He likes to sleep shirtless and you're suddenly very happy he wore a shirt before coming downstairs.

For some reason, you feel heat rushing to your cheeks. It's not that big of a deal but there is this invisible line and boundary between you two, and you're always reminded of what you experienced with him.

You clear your throat, directing your eyes elsewhere than Jungkook. "I wasn't exactly mad. I mean, I kinda get it from your point of view. Well, I get why you want me and her getting along. It'd make things much easier. But from my point of view... I just don't want that and I'm sorry, but this is how I feel about it."

"Of course," he says softly, straightening as he stands in front of you.

You widen your eyes, stunned at the sudden movement and the fact he's right in front of you. However, Jungkook doesn't seem to be stunned or nowhere near affected. He's fully focused on what he's about to say, a little puzzled look on his face as he cutely frowns and pouts without even knowing.

"I thought it'd make things easier, but I can't force her on you. I just... I know she's not accepted by you and even she feels that, it bothers and hurts her a lot. There is so much pressure I feel and I-I don't know I feel like I'm doing everything wrong."

"Hey," you call out softly, leaning your head slightly in his direction to get his attention.

The ice cream is long forgotten, the small amount that remained uneaten by you two probably melted by now.

"You're not doing everything wrong. I didn't make it exactly easier for you,"

It's true. There were times when you could've controlled yourself better, but you let your thoughts and opinion cloud your mind. It's not like you regret acting the way you did. You're more sorry for Jungkook, because you can emphasize with him.

"You're never really making anything easier for me, are you?" he teases you, nudging you with his arm as you snort and laugh at him.

"You're the one to talk." you shoot back, giggling when he dramatically gasps but laughs too.

Once you calm down, you let out a yawn leave past your lips.

"Come on, let's go to bed."

You do feel a little tingle in your stomach at that, shyly hopping off the counter. You know what he meant, it just awfully sounded as if you're going to sleep in the same bed. You almost snicker at your thoughts, knowing you're just acting weird all over again. You and Jungkook used to share a bed way before the deal came up. None of you ever made a big deal out of it.

But now that both of you've partners, it would probably be very weird and unfair to them. It's something you had to give up in your friendship.

You and Jungkook go upstairs together, both of you lingering outside of each of your rooms for a little while as you look at each other, the night lamps finally giving you an opportunity to see more of his face.

His eyes are tired, crinkled at the end as he grins at you. "Goodnight." he says simply, waving at you as you chuckle.

"Goodnight, Kook."

And you go to separate bedrooms, back to your partners. That's where you belong, right?

You're not sure what time it is when you're woken up by a pair of hands, sneakily touching down your back. Flinching back a little, just out of pure shock of feeling someone's hands behind you, you realize it must be Haneul. Glancing back, you confirm your suspicion because there's no one else who'd be in the bed beside you, touching you like this.

"Hi," he cheekily says, frowning when you turn back and cuddle up your pillow. "It's already nine." he informs you, hands hesitating before he starts caressing your back all over again.

It feels weird. Not him touching you, but him doing this in the morning when all he has ever done is cuddling you. He has never been this upfront in the morning.

"So? I can sleep how long I want." you mumble into the pillow, still feeling tiredness from the fact you went to sleep after midnight. Well, if you just sat up maybe you'd be able to wake up yourself and get ready for the day. But you don't want to. This bed is too comfortable and you don't have to go back to sleep, you'd be perfectly fine just laying here.

"I-you can, I didn't say you can't," Haneul stutters, surprised by your morning attitude.

It's not really an attitude, you're just tired and your voice is lacking any possible emotion.

"Princess," he whines after a moment, realizing you're not waking up but quite the opposite. He hears you hum and before you can go back to your slumber, he starts caressing the side of your ass which makes your eyes open.

You shift, laying on your back as you turn your head to him. You're not surprised when you see him biting his lower lip, eyeing you like a candy when you've to look like a nightmare. Your face has to be all swollen, especially from eating so late but you blame Jungkook and the stupid ice cream which you couldn't resist. Your hair is undoubtedly messy, freed from the rubber band you took off after coming back from the kitchen.

You're not stupid. Even in your early tired state, you can tell the glint he has in his eyes is nowhere innocent. If you weren't awake just for a solid four minutes, you'd probably look more surprised than you're letting on. It's not your fault, you're just still half-sleeping to have a proper reaction.

Haneul is nowhere near tired, he proves that when he delivers a kiss to your shoulder and hands move down to your stomach. It's not like you don't like the touch, but you do feel yourself tensing underneath his hands because simply you're not feeling where this is getting to.

"Haneul, I'm tired." you murmur, gently shifting away from him but the young man is persistent and doesn't mind it, simply chasing you again as he starts kissing your neck.

"I can wake you up," You frown, almost scoffing as you get a hold of his arms. He looks at you, eyes raised at the sudden interruption. "Are you seriously not wanting this?" He doesn't sound angry, just confused and surprised.

"I told you I'm tired," you reason, "Besides, there are like nine people here and some of them probably awake."

"So?" he shrugs, "Don't tell me you haven't had sex with your ex while other people were around." You haven't. But you have with Jungkook.

The realization makes your heart skip a beat, your hands gripping Haneul's even tighter as you frown at your boyfriend. "I'm not in the mood."

He searches your face, letting your words linger in the air for a moment before his features drop and he looks almost surprised by your denial.

"Oh," he lets out, arms freezing as he awkwardly shifts away from you. "Okay, I get that. I'm sorry." he apologizes, not being able to look at you as he quickly sits up.

"Haneul," you sigh, "I didn't mean--"

"No, it's okay. I'm sorry if I was too forward, I thought you'd like-- nevermind. Forget it please," he almost pleads, cheeks tinted red as you stare at him with pity eyes. "I'm gonna get ready. Join me when you're awake?" he asks, trying to sound light but you see how much your denial made him embarrassed.

He kisses your cheeks before he springs out of the bed, rushing to take off his pyjamas and put on some clothes for the day. You sigh, looking away. You close your eyes, almost acting as if you're going back to sleep but the truth is, you can't.

You're already awake, mixed feelings occupying your mind. You hear him shuffling with things, trying to stay quiet but you just sigh, sitting up. He looks at you with wide eyes, expecting you to sleep and not looking at him so wide awake.

"I'm sorry if I made things awkward." you tell him, not liking how awkward this feels.

"What? No, don't be sorry," he chuckles, quickly going to usher you as he sits on the edge of bed and takes your hands in his. "It's okay to say no, I was just in the mood and it's okay you weren't. I'm all good, alright? Don't overthink this." he tells you, smiling at you.

It eases up your weird tensed feeling in your chest, and you find yourself smiling back at him. There's nothing wrong with you saying no, you know that. It's just kind of an awkward situation in general but nothing you could not get past.

The awkwardness of today's morning is long forgotten and it's like it never happened in the first place. Haneul is sweet as ever, cuddles you and kisses you in your hair as if he could tell how awkward you feel after this morning.

You get it. He probably woke up with morning wood and wanted to take care of it, and since you're his girlfriend and were right there, he thought you could help. You did notice him awkwardly covering his crotch when he was about to walk away from the bedroom, which explains things a lot.

Haneul's laugh as he manages to hit Taehyung's head with a snowball makes you laugh too, especially when you notice Taehyung's mouth opened in betrayal. You don't even know who started it.

Ah, Jungkook and Taehyung did as they started fooling around until somehow everyone who was outside of the cabin got pulled into this snow fight.

From the corner of your eyes you can see someone getting closer to you, eyes widening as soon as you see Jungkook cackling devilishly while making his snowball perfect. A big snowball that definitely will hurt.

"Don't you dare," you manage to get through your teeth, knowing he heard it because you see his eyes flicker to yours before you see him slowly stepping towards you.

He's teasing you, ready to smash that snowball into you as soon as he's in a close distance but you don't let him do that. You don't wait for the snow to meet your body, legs already moving you quickly far away from Jungkook. You hear him laughing, your own smile twisting to a grin and even your annoyance at your annoying friend is gone.

It's until you feel the impact of the snow at the back of your head, causing you to stumble. Running in thick snow is already hard enough, Jungkook's hit success as it brings you down to the floor. Your cheek presses into the snow and you're ready to storm out at Jungkook for throwing it with so much strength.

You hear him stop in the tracks, laughing and clapping at the funny image of you falling down like a house of cards that he managed to see just now. You clench your teeth, feeling how snow is freezing against your cheek but you stay in your place laying there.

Jeon Jungkook, just wait. He's not the only one who can play a game.

You're not sure how successful you're going to be at it, but all you can do is wait and see. When Jungkook stops laughing, your lips almost curl into a satisfied grin when you hear him.

"Y/N? Are you okay?" he calls out, informing you that he's not that close to you.

You shift a little, grumbling at him which isn't part of the plan but you can't hide your annoyance.

"Fuck," you hear him before you hear his heavy footsteps and the way snow slumps underneath his boots. "Fuck, Y/N are you okay?"

You wait until he's next to you, knees crushing into the heavy snow as you manage to slowly sit down, trying to hide your own smirk. It takes you a second, one glance at Jungkook's doe and worried eyes he's aiming at you, before you grab as much snow as your hands allow you to and throw it in his face.

He tries to dodge your attempt of doing the same thing to him, but he fails miserably as you jump back to your feet.

"Yah!" he yells at you, making you cackle as you're taking more snow into your hands and trying to make a snowball. You fail, Jungkook hooking his feet over yours which makes you trip and you fall.

You land next to him, both of you throwing more snow to each other's faces like little kids.

"Alright, alright! You proved your point!" Jungkook calls out, grabbing your hands before you can throw some more snow into his already freezing face.

You let your hands drop, chuckling as you lay in the snow and stare at the blue sky. "That's what you get when you mess around with me." you tell him, pursing your lips as you teasingly grin at him.

He chuckles, lowly and breathy, as he glances at you before he looks at the sky.

"You scared me for a moment," he admits, chuckling again. "I thought I knocked you out."

"Oh please, to knock me out takes more than a simple snowball," you scoff, proudly grinning as you hear him snort. "But it did hurt, you muscle pig." you admit, sheepishly caressing the back of your head which is covered by your beanie.

He definitely wasn't going easy on you with that huge snowball and the strength he put into his throw.

Jungkook laughs but still sits up to look down at you. "Sorry, does it hurt too much?" he asks, but still has that amused grin on his face which makes you roll your eyes.

Sitting up too, you shrug. "Nah, it's not that bad." you assure him before he can start blaming himself.

He offers you his hand, helping you stand up. "Let's get inside, the lunch must be ready."

You nod, the rest of the way to the cabin is spent with you and Jungkook shoving each other, with the rest of the guys happily rushing to eat some warm food.

This trip is full of surprises, just like every trip you take with your friends. Or with people that aren't necessarily your friends tagging along too. It was very bold of you to assume this trip would go all smoothly, with no bumps along the road. But that doesn't mean you don't like this trip or you regret going.

Sure, your patience was running low when it came to Jungkook and his girlfriend, and everything that had to do with their relationship, and you've bumped to a few bumps along this fresh road.

But as the night settles in and it's the right time to celebrate Seokjin and Jia and their unborn baby, somehow you find yourself in the circle and presence of the mentioned pregnant girlfriend and her best friend. Actually, you know exactly how that happened.

You had been talking to Maya, finding out that she lives forty-five minutes from you in Seoul, as she promised to hang out with you once you come back to Seoul. She really is nice and super friendly. So when she proposed to hang out, just the two of you, you had been more enthusiastic about the news than you'd expect yourself to be.

It definitely feels nice to find a new friend, a woman at that, when all you've been doing is hanging out around and with your guy friends. That doesn't mean you don't like it. Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook are amazing company and often proved to you it doesn't matter that they're not the same gender, or can't understand some woman stuff you'd usually talk about to the opposite sex. You're perfectly content with having them as your friends. But now that Maya is determined to stay friends even outside of this trip, it truly makes you excited to get to know her more. You've been here for two days and you already get the feeling you know her. That doesn't mean she can't turn out not to be your kind of person, but she definitely looks like it now and you've a good feeling about her.

Maya's friendliness and extrovertedness dragged you, literally, into the situation you're in right now. She called for Jia, waving her with a huge smile to come over, who coincidentally has been accompanied by Kiko.

You could have seen the look of panic washing over her features once she saw you there. It made you feel sour, yes that's how you'd describe that uncomfortable feeling in your chest. Or maybe it was guilt. The fact that it was caused by you was enough to make you grip your glass of rose wine tighter.

When they've come over to you and Maya, luckily your newly found friend took upon herself to congratulate Jia all over again as they had a casual and pleasant conversation. You almost felt awkward, Kiko standing right in front of you keeping her mouth shut as if she was scared and just her saying a single word would tick you off.

Jungkook's words of mentioning how she cried before the party two days ago crossed your mind. You kind of get how he must've been feeling this whole time, seeing it first hand from his girlfriend. So when you joined the conversation and glanced at Kiko, maybe your way of silently and non-verbally telling her that you're not here to be a bitch or fight her, you actually see her relax slightly.

Meanwhile Jia shares that she's three months pregnant, close to being four, you notice Jungkook glancing at you almost nervously while Jimin talks enthusiastically in their little circle of friends they created, with the rest of the guys. He nibbles on his bottom lip, noticing you see him and you give him a slight smile, assuring him that you're fine.

And when he offers you a smile, strangely similar to a proud one, you feel all the weight falling off your chest. You can't think about his relationship or trying to think about Kiko and why she decided to hurt your best friend so much, you just can't. So, you've decided to be decent and just ignore it because it's the best for Jungkook. He clearly knows all your thoughts, he heard them out and still decided to stick up with his decision.

It's not your battle to fight. It's not your thing to be angry about. It won't disappear just like that. It's still there and always will be. But now, you can actually try and focus on other things.

Kiko is not going to be your friend, but you can accept her being in Jungkook's life again. That's what you were kind of doing, even when Jungkook has decided to pull you to the side and share his worries with you, silently pleading with you to try and be more decent.

Okay, you've to admit. You were being bitchy and maybe not totally vocal about your distaste to his girlfriend, but you still let it show and control you to a certain extent. And that wasn't pretty. Even people around you could see that and you thought you're not being so obvious, not that you cared.

Now that you and Jungkook talked, and you could see his hurt and vulnerability, it was just one of those extra pushes that made it more than clear where he stands and what he truly wants.

Overall, it was just a stupid argument you and him had. That's what happens when two people don't agree with each other. It's important to talk it out, trying to understand the other and settle onto some kind of compromise.

Your compromise is not being a bitch and trying to be decent in Kiko's presence. Like Jungkook said, you don't have to be friends with her, nor you've to like her. That's not what he was trying to ask of you this whole time. All he asks is for more respect for their relationship. Jungkook really cares about what you think, so it was draining him mentally and physically to see you acting the way you were acting.

And that's when you knew you weren't acting like he deserved. You were hurting him in a certain way.

Jungkook's compromise is not pushing Kiko in your face, not that he wanted to do that. But it made you feel like that.

She joins the conversation after her own glass of wine is empty, the four of you talking and you find yourself laughing here and there. You don't directly talk to Kiko, but at least you're able to look at her without that feeling of annoyance of her presence. And that's a huge step.

In the middle of the whole celebration, you, Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook go to a separate room to exchange your Christmas presents. Jimin and Taehyung are happy about your choice of presents, which to be honest isn't that much special. You've bought them clothes, one sweatshirt for Jimin and a coat for Taehyung. Both of them bought you clothing as well. Taehyung has bought you a silky purple robe, giving it to you with a little smirk on his lips when you praise the material. Jimin gives you an oversized hoodie, an expensive one which you find out when you look at the label. He just waves you off, ignoring your silent protest of him spending this much money on you.

Jimin has bought Jungkook a bag for his camera which the youngest appreciates with eyes wide and mouth opened in awe. Everyone giggles at Jungkook's expression. Taehyung has bought him black boots, similar to ones he already owns but this one according to Jungkook are even better.

Jungkook gives Taehyung a box full of face masks and face care, as he gives a similar box full of bath bombs and bath foams to Jimin since he loves baths. And then he hands them small albums causing them to look at it curiously. You do the same thing, eyeing it as they open it but before you can fully catch a glimpse of what's inside, Jungkook hands you a very similar album.

"This one's for you," he says, grinning at you as you take the album with wide eyes.

You open it, immediately gasping when the album is filled with pictures of you and your friends. As you turn pages, you find pictures of you from the camping trip, pictures you never knew were taken. There are many funny pictures from the times you hung out together, spontaneous moments when you're laughing and fooling around with either Jimin or Taehyung, or both, which makes you giggle.

There are a few pictures of you and Jungkook as well, like the ones you've taken on his phone while wearing the ridiculous bubble face masks or when you did silly poses. It makes you emotional, your heart filled with warmth as you look at Jungkook with an appreciative smile.

"Do you like it?" he asks, grinning sheepishly while Jimin and Taehyung are rolling off the bed while laughing at one of their pictures.

"I love it," you tell him honestly, smiling. "When did you even take these photos?"

He shrugs, grinning cockily when he sees you pleasantly surprised.

"Thank you, Kook. I love this." you tell him, shutting the album with a soft thud as you go hug him. He seems to be caught off guard, almost falling down his back onto the mattress behind him but he easily gets his balance back.

"Of course," he mumbles into your shoulder, hugging you back. You can smell his perfume and his scent so clearly and you take a sneaky sniff of how amazing he always smells like, before you're reminded of something.

You pull away, grinning at him as you dive your hand into the bag where your gifts have been placed, pulling out Jungkook's present.

"Another one?" he asks, surprised you've bought him one more thing besides the new boxing gloves since you know he's enjoying boxing a lot these days.

"It's nothing," you shake your head and hand him the wrapped gift.

He gives you a mere scowl, shaking his head at you in disapproval but unwraps the gift gasping. "You're insane..." he comments, causing you to snort.

"It's just a perfume, Jeon."

"But this one's expensive!" he exclaims, scowling at you as you innocently shrug.

"It's the only one you actually use, you didn't give me that much choice." you joke, seeing him shaking his head again.

It's true. He's too sensitive to certain smells, so he wasn't using perfumes and used to stick to the natural scent of his fabric detergent. But then he found a nice perfume and started wearing it ever since. The smell is incredible, even you've to admit that. It is expensive and Jungkook could easily buy it for himself. Luckily, he complained last month about how he's running out of it, so you ordered it the next day in hope he won't buy it until then.

"Thank you." he tells you honestly, giving you a warm and appreciative smile in return.

After everyone puts their gifts in their rooms, you and the guys join the rest where rap music plays in the background. You and Haneul share a smile as your eyes meet, before you join him on the couch seeing he's in the middle of a conversation with Namjoon. Maya sits next to you a few minutes after and you hold a friendly and casual conversation with her, while you sip on your wine.

"Y/N, are you joining us?" Taehyung asks, gaining your attention as he sits on the floor with Jimin, Hoseok and Seokjin. You notice Jungkook sitting down too, plopping onto his butt before he glances at you.

"Join what?" you ask in return, brows slightly furrowed in confusion as Taehyung snickers.

"A game."

You blink, staring at him dumbfounded as you snort. "I know that much," you murmur ironically, "Are you guys seriously about to play spin the bottle?"

"Of course not," Taehyung frowns, sending you a slight glare because of your mocking tone. "We're playing never have I ever."

"Ah, I'm playing!" Maya calls out enthusiastically, already standing up with her glass of wine as Taehyung cheers for her and plops into the space next to him.

You stare surprised at her, shaking off your surprise as you're met with Taehyung's raised brow. "So? You in?"

"Nah, I'll pass." you tell him, feeling somehow uncomfortable at feeling's everyone's eyes on you.

With dismissing Taehyung, you expect them to ignore you and start playing their stupid game which definitely won't be innocent. It's just their way of prying about everyone's sexlife. However, Taehyung opens his mouth again and if it weren't for the fact he's tipsy, you'd probably send daggers his way.

"What? Scared we'll find out all your dirty little secrets?" He wiggles his brow at you. You know he's just teasing you and being a pain in the ass, yet it does make you feel a little annoyed that he thinks that's the real reason.

You just think the game is stupid and childish. However, you know you'd be listening to them answering those questions.

"Fine, I'm playing. If it's boring I'm out." you mutter annoyingly, standing up as you ask Haneul if he's playing.

"No, I think I'll just watch." he grins at you, sending you a wink before you playfully roll your eyes, joining the others on the floor.

"You don't have to play if you don't want to." Jungkook speaks up, reminding you softly as you glance at him, giving him a slight smile.

"It's okay." you assure him, plopping next to Maya as Jungkook watches you with unconvinced eyes before he sighs and directs his attention elsewhere.

Kiko and Jia enter the living room together, coming from the kitchen, as they join the guys on the couch saying they're not playing. Your attention to them is quickly cut off by Taehyung's voice.

"Okay, I think we all know the rules. You drink if you've done it, if you haven't you don't drink. I've the questions here." he explains showing his phone while everyone nods along his words, agreeing with him.

The first rounds are easy, or more like expected and the whole purpose of it is to make everyone drink. You've been drinking wine but now you're mixing it with vodka, which actually makes you cringe and you seriously hope you won't throw up after this.

"Never have I ever watched porn"

"Never have I ever kissed on a first date"

"Never have I ever made out in public"

It's questions like this that made everyone drink. You can feel yourself loosen up though, which is definitely thanks to the strong taste of vodka that warms up your whole body.

"Never have I ever failed at orgasm while I masturbated."

You choke as soon as you hear Taehyung read from his phone, your eyes bulge out as you catch everyone's eyes in the circle. Ah, you really hope those voices you hear behind you are Haneul and Namjoon, and they aren't actually listening to this. Last time you checked, everyone not participating in this game pretty much ignored you guys.

You sheepishly reach for the shot, avoiding Jungkook's eyes that you know are aimed at you as you chug the shot down. Maya snorts, doing the same thing causing you to mentally sigh in relief. You don't know whether it's from the embarrassment of you drinking alone to this in front of everyone, or just the fact you feel exposed and hunted from the memory of you trying to make yourself cum using the toy Jungkook bought for you.

Luckily, there's no one that mocks you for it and Taehyung moves to the next question right away.

The next question that you don't drink to, is something about threesome which Jimin drinks to and sheepishly adds he doesn't want to talk about it when everyone stares with their mouths open. Much to your shock, you'd never expect Jimin to have a threesome but judging from the way Taehyung is grinning, he already knew about it. He assures his friend that there's nothing to be embarrassed about and there's no one that shames anyone, letting his boxy smile light up the atmosphere.

"Alright, just move on, please." Jimin mutters, cheeks slightly red from the sudden attention.

There are a couple of more questions that you don't drink like, "never have I ever sent a naughty photo to someone" or "never have I ever hooked up with someone I met online".

"Okay," Taehyung calls out, smacking his lips after he finished drinking on a question about never giving a lap dance. "Never have I ever had public sex."

There's a beat of silence for a moment, your eyes somehow automatically leading to Jungkook who glances at you already raising his cup. He raises a brow at you and you feel your palms getting sweaty, memories coming back from the camping trip. Is he thinking the same thing or did he have public sex somewhere else? You've no idea, he has never spoken about his sexlife with Kiko that much, not that you wanted to hear about it in the first place. All you know is that their sexlife has never been bad or boring. You guess it's different when you love that person.

"Y/N honey, do I see you hesitating?" Taehyung asks, lips curved in a lazy and tipsy smirk as you roll your eyes at him.

You mask your own nervousness you feel for some reason, glancing at Jungkook to see him already gulping down his shot, features scrunched at the strong taste for a few seconds as he looks back at you.

Gulping, you ask, "I'm not sure if it's exactly public." you mutter, trying to act nonchalantly as you shake your shoulders.

"It is public, Y/N." Jungkook mutters from the other side, your throat running dry as you send him a glare.

"Where was it?" Jimin asks, voice soft and slightly tired from the alcohol too.

You take a deep breath, swallowing harshly as you mentally start to panic. Not wanting to share any details, you mutter "fuck it" as you chug down the shot.

"Alright, this is starting to get interesting." Taehyung sings out as Hoseok agrees, laughing. Everyone seems to be clueless, or they act that way but you can't bring yourself to overthink it any longer.

Taehyung's phone falls down from his hands, causing Hoseok to snort as he takes the phone and reads the next question by himself. Taehyung purses his lips but doesn't complain, stretching his legs in the meantime.

"Never have I ever had period sex."

Oh, you gotta be kidding me, you think as you're ready to whine out loud but you stop yourself. You feel your heart beat loudly against your ribcage, almost as if you're being called out with these questions. To be honest, you and Jungkook had a sex when you were on your period but you barely bled. It was the end of it and as far as you know, there wasn't that much blood. Does it count? Probably.

Thankfully, your frozen state seems to go unnoticed by the rest of the people as Hoseok drinks up along with Jungkook. You glance at Jungkook, almost looking at him in question as he smirks behind his cup and chugs his shot down. Meanwhile Taehyung eagerly pours more vodka to their empty cups, Jungkook has the audacity to actually raise his brow at you, daring you to drink up.

Clearing your throat, you feel yourself getting annoyed at him. He's provoking you, obviously teasing you because he knows all of your dirty secrets. And it's because he's a part of those dirty secrets. As far as you know, he's done these things with you but it doesn't mean he's done it only with you.

You almost think you get to drink your shot in peace, ignoring Maya's grin when she notices you sneakily drinking but however, Taehyung is loud and attentive as always and nothing goes unnoticed by him.

"Y/N, you horny freak!" he laughs, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

"Shut up," you scold him, "Didn't you say no one is shaming anyone?" you mutter at him, ignoring the way he's cackling.

"I'm not shaming," he corrects and you almost think he has an apology ready on his tongue, until he opens his mouth again. "I just didn't know you're such a freak between the sheets."

You choke up, coughing as you shake your head at Taehyung, sending him a glare through your narrowed eyes. Glancing at Jungkook, you see his tongue poking his inner cheek cockily and you send him a warning glare which he just responds with an innocent shrug of his shoulders. That cocky bastard...

"Never have I ever owned a sex toy." Hoseok reads out next, causing everyone to drink up excluding you.

"Y/N, Y/N, I'm surprised. I thought you'd own a sex toy." Taehyung tsks at you, causing you to roll your eyes at him.

"Fuck off, you're annoying," you tell him, but he only beams at you with his boxy smile. "You thought wrong."

"You do own a sex toy, don't lie." Jungkook calls you out, your mouth falling open in a betrayal as Hoseok, Jimin and Taehyung snicker and you swear you hear Maya giggling into her palm.

"I didn't buy it! I never wanted it!" you exclaim, protecting your pride as Jungkook narrows his eyes.

"So? You still own it."

It's funny how no one questions how the hell Jungkook knows this but then – everyone knows you guys know each other too well, so it's probably not suspicious for them. And some of them probably think you dated for real.

"Because you bought it for me!" you exclaim again, your mouth shutting right away as the silence erupts in the room.

Jungkook doesn't look drunk, but he's definitely in his tipsy and teasing mood considering how he smirks at you in triumph as he shakes his shoulders. "Don't act like you didn't like it." he simply comments, causing the rest of the guys to snicker again.

Oh, he's about to have it.

"Fuck off, Jeon."

You drink the shot, game moving smoothly as everyone seems to be amused at your bickering rather than suspicious or weirded out.

On the other side, you're too focused on the game and it's practically impossible for you to hear what's going on behind you. It's not like there's something going on, but you definitely don't catch up on Haneul's focused scowl as he looks at Kiko.

"Don't they usually get along?" he asks, wondering if hearing you two talk to each other like that is normal.

So far he's seen you teasing each other or even bickering, but this time it feels like you're second from insulting each other. It is funny, he just wonders...

"They usually do." Kiko answers lightly, shrugging as she sips on her wine before her attention is focused back to Jia as they start talking about something.

He turns back, staring ahead at the group of you as Namjoon laughs at something one of you says. He lets it be, laughing when Taehyung accidentally spills his drink from his mouth, watching it drip down his chin as you snort at him.

A few rounds later and you feel yourself grinning out of nowhere, giggling whenever someone says something funny as Jungkook keeps glancing at you and smiling amusingly at your giggly state. The mildly bitter taste of vodka makes your whole body warm and cozy, and you lean your head on Jimin's shoulder who seems to be just equally drunk. The game is over, however you're playing another one well, if you can say it. It's basically just someone, mainly Taehyung and his noisy ass, asking a question to one of you. Sometimes Hoseok and Jimin, or even Maya, join and pick one person that they want to answer.

"Alright, alright, I'm asking..." Taehyung starts, voice loud and deep as he cuts off Hoseok's laugh, scanning everyone. "Jungkook," he muses, causing the younger to raise his brows in a sudden surprise but he's back to normal in a second, smirking at Taehyung as if silently telling him to bring it on.

"Name one song you'd have a sex to."

Jungkook purses his lips, tattooed fingers rubbing his chin in thought as he makes a funny face as if he's thinking about it. He actually does seem to think about it before he sighs and shrugs. "Probably, Into It."

"Oh, whose song is that?" Hoseok asks, slightly interested in the unknown song name.

It's funny how casual everyone is while all you seem to talk about is sex. At first, you found it annoying and if you were sober, you still would. But now you're more relaxed and it's just a bunch of drunk young adults talking about their own preference. Even Namjoon, has joined the circle or more like he's done it because he wanted to be closer to Maya, as he cuddles up to her. They're so cute together, it actually makes you smile whenever you look at them.

You lift your head off Jimin's shoulder, looking at Jungkook. "Chase Atlantic, right?" you ask questionably, feeling like you're right about this one.

The band is definitely a must-have in Jungkook's playlist, you can't count how many times you've listened to them while riding with him in a car. Jungkook seems to like their music a lot, so you're already familiar with their sound and most importantly their mentioned song. You wouldn't guess Jungkook would have a sex to this song though.

"Yeah," Jungkook answers, nodding cutely before he chugs down another shot.

"Taehyungie, what's your answer to this? Why do I feel like it'd be some kind of sentimental shit song?" Jimin teases the younger, causing Taehyung to grab the cushion below his ass and aimed at him, causing you to avoid it just at the last minute as Jimin catches it with a fit of laughter.

Just right behind you, on the still same couch, Haneul's eyes narrow in confusion as he's too distracted to pay attention to the loudness of you and your friends while you're all laughing. Glancing at Kiko, he notices her looking at the group with a small smile on her face.

Are they always open like this? Sure, he has many friends that could easily be described as pigs due to their lack of maturity and a big amount of hormones. They're loud and they fool around too. And there's nothing wrong about it. He finds himself to feel comfortable in the presence of your friends and people here, they all seem like good people who like to have fun but are mature enough. He's pleasantly surprised how everyone gets along, minus the conversation he had with you about Jungkook's girlfriend, but you seem to be okay.

It almost feels as if there's a certain family vibe going on and he likes it. It feels different than him hanging out with his twenty year old friends who live for random hook-ups, getting drunk and do stupid things along the way.

However, he can't help himself to wonder about how open you and Jungkook are. It seems like you guys know each other the most, and the fact Kiko just sits there and watches you converse about such topics that include sex, is weird to him. It's not because he's jealous because he's not. There's just something, like a missing puzzle that he can't quite figure out.

And he tries to tell himself; No, they're just like this, different from everyone. Just like everyone is describing them like this.

Still, he slightly turns around to Kiko who glances at him with curious eyes, noticing the way he turned his body towards her as he looks her in the eyes.

"Are they always like this?" he asks, "Y/N and Jungkook. Do they seriously know such things about each other?"

This makes Kiko chuckle, noticing the way he looks uncertain and maybe even insecure. He hasn't been here for a while, she thinks and reasons his reaction that he seems to mask while trying to look as casual as possible.

"Yeah, they're pretty close." she simply answers, voice light and somehow assuring as if she could read his confused thoughts.

He seems to relax a little, offering her a little smile. "But isn't that weird?"

Kiko's brows furrowed in confusion before she giggles. "I think fake dating is the weirdest thing they've ever done. Why are you so confused about these questions then?" She actually finds it amusing, glancing at Haneul just to notice his frozen state as he looks as if he was just slapped in the face.

Her smile drops down immediately. Oh, no, no no, she thinks as she hurriedly straightens herself.

"What do you mean fake dating?" he asks slowly, glad there's so much loudness around him that their conversation is quiet and inconspicuous.

"Oh crap," Kiko lets out, hand slapping over her mouth as she looks like minutes from freaking out. Well, that's exactly how she feels. She feels her heart in her throat, her mind trying to assure you this is not happening but when she looks at Haneul again, it's almost certain that this is very much happening. "You didn't know?" she whispers.

"They dated?"

"It wasn't for real!" Kiko quickly justifies, shaking her head as she scoots closer to him and looks like seconds from crying, her eyes pleading. "Oh my god, I thought you knew. I'm so sorry, please don't tell Y/N you know. I'm so sorry." she pleads, trying to stay discreet with her voice so small and quiet. However, Haneul is too shocked to fully recognize the pure panic on her face.

Not that he cares about that much, because the words dating and you and Jungkook in the same sentence makes him feel as if he's just dreaming and none of this is real.

"Haneul, please--" Kiko's words are cut off as he straightens himself and walks towards the circle you and your friends created.

He squats down behind you and gently taps you on your shoulder. You're giggling, looking around as you almost lose your balance, slightly bumping to Haneul.

"Oops, sorry." you cutely apologize to your boyfriend, causing him to smile at you.

You're too tipsy to notice how tight his smile looks and before you can admire him from this proximity, he's already opening his mouth. "Can I talk to you?"

You completely ignore his request, or more like the purpose of it because it doesn't look weird to you. "Yeah, sure." you let out, already standing up as he helps you.

He glances at Jungkook, seeing him laughing at something Hoseok said. If Jungkook noticed, he'd see the cold glare Haneul gave him.

Haneul leads you upstairs to your room, thinking it'll be best to privately talk there since it became "your space together" kind of. You giggle, rambling about how much fun you're having and that he should've joined you in the game. He just gives you a tight smile whenever you look at him as his hands stay wrapped around your forearm. He doesn't hold you tight, just keeping a secure hold of you in case you'd fall but as far as he can tell, you don't look too drunk. Yes, your steps are slightly careless and clumsy, but you look fine. And you're overly giggly that he almost feels bad for taking you away from all the fun.

When you get to your room, you jump on the bed as you lay down, your body bouncing slightly from the harder impact with your arms above your head.

"Y/N," Haneul calls out to you, causing you to sit up as you lazily smile at him.

But Haneul doesn't smile back, no. He rubs his forehead a few times and you finally notice the distress written all over his scowled features as he stares at you with unknowing emotion.

"What's wrong?" you ask, still feeling the buzz from the alcohol and you've a hard time to convince yourself now is not the right time to just lay back.

"When did you want to tell me that you and Jungkook were dating apparently? Well, fake dating," he says with a cold tone, "Or did you even plan on telling me?"

And just like that, you think all the alcohol is gone from your body in seconds and you feel like your head is spinning. No, saying that his words hit you like a bucket of cold water is much more appropriate for this.

How does he know? Who told him? It's the fact that he stares you down so coldly, that you don't recognize him. He looks angry, annoyed and hurt. The worst combination as you feel yourself dryly gulp.

"Of course, I was planning to tell you." You decide to say, voice soft but strict to let him know you weren't planning to keep it a secret.

He already knows, but even you notice his face falling down a little when you don't deny it.

"Oh, really?" he scoffs, making your eyes widen. "So why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I didn't want to tell you at the very beginning of our relationship," you tell him immediately, "It's not a topic you get to talk about on a first date. I wanted to be sure of you, sure of us before I tell you. Actually I wanted to tell you on this trip." But you were too busy dealing with Jungkook.

"Tell me," he starts, voice stern. "Tell me everything."

You're taken aback at the sudden tone he sets, especially when he's acting so bossy telling you what to do. You don't like that. You could easily tell him to calm down and not talk to you in that tone. You don't appreciate it but still, you know you keeping this away from him is the reason he's acting this way. Besides, you're too shocked to properly react.

But still, he doesn't have to act like an idiot.

So sighing, you stand up keeping your distance because he looks too angry to want you to be around. Still, he looks like he's holding himself back from totally bursting.

"Jungkook asked me to pretend to be his girlfriend, it was way before we met by the way. We made a deal. I helped him and he helped me." you explain, trying to act casual when you feel like you're about to throw up.

"How did you help him?" he eyes you, frowning at you as you frown back.

"By pretending to be his girlfriend," you answer, "Look, Kiko broke up with him without any reason and somehow he thought if she saw us together, he'd be able to tell if she still has feelings for him or not. Which proved to be right because they're together. But I swear, there's nothing going on between me and him. It was all fake, we were just helping each other."

Okay, now you sound a little desperate and slightly panicked. And you're most likely sober now too.

"And how did he help you?"

Oh, fuck. 

You nibble on your bottom lip. "What?" you whisper, causing Haneul to narrow his eyes suspiciously at you as he senses something is wrong.

"You told me you helped him and he helped you," Fuck, he already sounds angry with his low and slow tone. "So I'm asking, how did he help you?"

You gulp, looking at him apologetically as you plead with him with your eyes to let it go. But he only looks at you even more sternly, not budging, meanwhile you feel like if you still weren't so shocked, you'd actually start crying. This feels like a nightmare.

"Haneul please, you've to trust me that--"

"Don't bullshit me, Y/N," he snaps at you, your eyes widening immediately. He has never talked to you like this and you don't know what to think about it. "Just tell me," he says more gently, but still looking at you with dark eyes.

"It didn't mean anythi--"

"God, Y/N stop beating around the bush." he cuts you off harshly, your mouth shutting before you burst.

"We hooked up, alright?" you exclaim in annoyance. "We hooked up, satisfied?" you murmur, tearing your eyes off him for a moment to look at the closed door.

It's the silence that makes everything even more uncomfortable and you force yourself to look at him.

"We just made a deal, my ex was pretty boring when it came to this sex stuff and somehow, we made this deal." It sounds so freaking stupid, you feel embarrassment crawling down your back as he scoffs loudly.

"All this time you assured me there's nothing going on between you two, you actually fucked him before?!" He raises his voice, making you flinch.

"I--yes, but we're fine. He's back with Kiko and I've you. We stopped it right after he was sure of Kiko and I've never wanted anything more with him. We're so passed that, Haneul please--"

You panic when he wraps his hands around the back of his head and turns around to you with his back. You step closer but he only flinches when he senses your body.

"I'm so fucking stupid," he spits, pacing around the room as you watch him with the same panic in your eyes.

Your stomach clenches uncomfortably and you feel like you're about to seriously throw up. Not from the alcohol, but the nervosity and dozens of different emotions of discomfort that you feel.

"All this time--" he exclaims, stopping as he takes a deep breath. "Who even fucks their friend?"

"A lot of people, actually." you retort and he shoots you a glare.

"I was sitting in the same car with him, I was just with him in the same room while you played that stupid game. No wonder he knew all of your secrets, right?"

He sounds so spiteful and you feel so small underneath his dark and angry eyes. Where is your big mouth when you need it? You can barely open your mouth, your hands slightly shaking.

You feel embarrassed, he makes you feel that way because he actually mocks you. Most likely, you're hurt by him right now. You should've told him but it's not like you weren't planning to. He has to understand you just started dating and you wouldn't brag about such an intimate thing. Not when it happened way before you even met him. He acts as if you cheated on him or like you've done it during the time you met him or were going on dates.

"Haneul, please. I get that you're angry and hurt but trust me, I was planning to tell you. And Jungkook and I are just friends." you assure him for like a thousand times during your relationship.

"I'm going home." he says, completely ignoring your previous words as you widen your eyes and quickly jump to stop him from walking to his suitcase.

"What? No, please don't leave." you plead him, grasping his arms tighter.

He looks down at you, eyes cold and emotionless as he shakes your hands off him. "My grandma is sick anyway, I'll go and see her."

"But it's too late! And--and how will you go?"

"I'll call one of my friends, or I'll ask Jimin to drive me. Honestly, I'd walk there, I don't care. I can't be here for another minute."

"Haneul, please," you whimper when he starts opening the drawers and pulling out his clothes. "We can just talk about it, you don't have to leave."

"I want to," he grumbles before he opens his suitcase and starts messily tossing his clothes there. "Leave. I want to leave."

And that's when you realize there's nothing you can do to stop him. He needs to cool off and think about what his next decision will be, you know all of this. Yet you can't avoid your eyes watering and tears running down your cheeks soon after. It's the little sniffle you accidentally let out that makes Haneul glance across his shoulder to look at you.

"I just need to think. I just know I can't be here any longer." he tells you, somehow softer than before but you still see the wall he's building between you two and it pains you.

"Are you breaking up with me?" you ask silently, wiping your tears because you feel pathetic. You just wish he'd stay, that's all you want from him. He doesn't have to understand you right away, he doesn't have to talk about it with you right now. The hell, he doesn't even have to stay in this bedroom with you. But you just want him to stay.

He sighs, letting go of his shirt that falls into his suitcase as he turns around to look at you again. "No, do you want me to?"

"No? Would I be crying if I wanted to?" you almost snap at him, holding yourself from biting back bitterly.

Do you even have any right to feel angry at him for having this kind of reaction? Your emotions and thoughts are all over the place and you, even yourself, can't tell what you feel. All you know is that you want him to stay and he doesn't have to leave so abruptly. You should talk about it like adults, there's no need for him to make his getaway.

He scoffs, tossing back his clothes angrily to his suitcase. You don't apologize, you don't think you've to be apologizing for answering honestly his stupid question.

"At least tell me who told you." you tell him, thinking he's going to ignore you because he keeps doing his own task for a couple of seconds before he glances at you.

"It doesn't matter."

"Maybe it doesn't matter to you, but it does matter to me. I think I deserve to know who told you. It was my thing to tell, no one else's."

Okay, now you sound a little bit mad.

"You mean secret," he spits at you, "It's not your thing to tell. It was your secret to tell."

"Oh come on, I wanted to tell you!" you exclaim, "How many times do I have to tell you that? It's not my fault you don't trust me. I still stand for what I told you. Me and Jungkook are nothing, just friends. It's in the past and it happened before I even met you. I get that you're angry at me for keeping this away from you, but I had my own reasons. And it's not like I was planning to keep this away from you forever."

"Are you sure you're just nothing? I don't find it comfortable to know you used to fuck him." he barks, shutting his suitcase as he stands up abruptly.

"And that's understandable but you should trust me. I'm sorry that you don't," you tell him, sounding hurt but you don't try to mask it. Because that's exactly how you feel. "You want to leave? Fine. No one will hold you here against your will. At least tell me who told you."

"Kiko," he answers, "Satisfied?"

Of fucking course. That bit--

"But it's not her fault. It's yours."

You gape at him, left completely speechless with thousands of your thoughts. It makes sense. She's been sitting next to him the last time you look at Haneul. You see red, not able to control yourself as you give Haneul his space because clearly you're done here. There's nothing you could say to make him stay here and he seems too angry to even want to be in the same room as you.

You storm out of the room, smacking the door shut with a loud thud as you make your way downstairs. You can't even hear the music anymore, everything is clouded with anger and hurt. You're not stopping on the stairs, eyes searching for that one person that is responsible for Haneul knowing before you could tell him and properly talk to him.

You see her, standing next to Jungkook as she nibbles on her bottom lip. You're too upset to realize she looks freaking nervous and then she spots you coming down the stairs, her mouth opening as she tries to hide behind Jungkook. He's too engrossed by talking to the guys to notice her doing that and then he spots you, smiling and ready to wave you over but then he sees the way your face is twisted in anger and there are tears coming down your cheeks. His eyes widen, glancing behind him to find Kiko looking scared shitless.

You're ready to jump at her, ready to yell but Jungkook's reactions are way faster. He halts you just when you're two steps away from them, gripping your shoulders.

"Woah, hey, hey, hey. What's wrong?" he asks, keeping you in place as you trash in his arms.

"Let me go," you spit, trying to get out of his hold and you almost succeed, ready to claw out his girlfriend's eyes. "It's your fault!" you scream at her, she squirms on her spot and yelps but before you can get to her, Jungkook hooks his arm around your waist, spinning you around.

Trashing even more, you curse at him to let you go as he holds you tightly. Everyone stares at you, probably thinking you're crazy but you don't see them. All you can focus on is the hurt and anger you feel towards the woman that keeps squirming in her spot and even has the audacity to look at you with pitiful eyes.

"Woah, calm down tiger," Jungkook tells you, still holding you tightly as you groan. "Tell me what happened."

"It's her fault," you bark, pointing at Kiko as he glances at her. "You told Haneul! You had no right! You're such a bitch!" you scream at her, Taehyung coming up to you as he puts his hand affectionately on your shoulder.

You notice Jimin staring at you with worried eyes as well, glancing between you and Kiko.

"Y/N, look at me," Jungkook says, cupping your face tightly as he makes you look at him. You do, but you're fuming and ready to trash again but before you can, he opens his mouth again. "Tell me. Talk to me."

You shut your eyes, more tears falling down your cheeks as narrows his eyes in confusion, but doesn't hesitate to wipe your tears. Fuck, you just want to cry.

"She told Haneul about us. She told him." you cry out, Jungkook's mouth opening in a pure shock, not believing your words until after a few moments, he finally processes what you just told him.

He looks at Taehyung, glancing down at you in his arms. Taehyung takes the hint, grabbing you by your shoulders as he gently hugs you closer to him. Jungkook looks at Kiko and he realizes someone turned off the music. Everyone is standing nearby and staring at the scene unfolding in front of them. Hoseok, Jimin, Namjoon, Maya and Jin. Jia is the only one who went to bed early since she felt tired.

Jungkook's and Kiko's eyes meet, her hugging closer to herself while nibbling on her bottom lip as a kid that's in trouble. Maybe this is all just a mistake or some sick joke. But when he sees guilt written all over her usually soft and sweet features, he knows it's true. You're telling the truth and it's not a mistake that could be discussed because what's done is done. Jungkook glares at her without even knowing, not liking how guilty she's looking at him.

He starts making his way over to her, Hoseok glancing between his friend and best friend as he opens his mouth and interferes. "Jungkook, I don't know what happened but let's--"

He's cut off by Jungkook who stops him with his hand, not halting his steps towards Kiko whose mouth is already trembling. Not in fear, there's no need for her to be scared of Jungkook, he'd never hurt her. But he looks damn pissed and she looks more like trembling because of her guilt rather than anything else.

"Kookie, I can explain, it was an accident. I didn't know--"

He grabs her by her forearm, not too tightly to leave a bruise but even she is surprised by the tighter grasp he has on her. He leads her out of the huge room, opening the first door he sees which is a smaller guest room. There's no time to look around or to realize this is the first time he's been and seen this room.

"I didn't know he didn't know. He asked about you and her and it slipped, I swear to you. I'd never hurt Y/N like that!" she apologizes quickly, grasping Jungkook's hands as soon as he lets go of her.

"Why the hell would you even assume he knows? Didn't you think about the possibility he doesn't know?" he asks through clenched teeth, closing his for a second. All he can see is you crying and battling with all the emotions in front of everyone.

He believes Kiko, he doesn't think she did it on purpose. But that doesn't mean what she did wasn't wrong, even if it was a mistake. She should've thought about what she's saying before she said it. She messed up everything and judging by your reaction, Haneul probably hasn't taken it well. You wouldn't cry if he did. You'd probably be pissed, but you wouldn't cry just like that in front of everyone.

"I didn't think about that, I just assumed..." she mumbles.

"You didn't think, exactly," he scoffs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I don't know what happened between them, but are you aware there's a chance you ruined their relationship?"

Kiko pulls her hands away, looking down at her feet in shame. "I know, I'm sorry."

"You shouldn't be apologizing to me," he points out, voice rough and cold. Fuck, he doesn't know what to do, how to solve this. There's no way to fix this. "But just for your own sake, I wouldn't go near her right now."

Kiko nods, understanding that as Jungkook turns around and leaves her standing in the room with her own pondering thoughts and most importantly, her guilt. When he joins the others he sees you hugging Jimin as Taehyung caresses your hair, glancing at Jungkook with pitiful eyes. It's not a good sight to any of your friends.

When you spot Jungkook, you frown and look around, without doubt searching for Kiko but she doesn't come back like you expect her to.

"It's her fault." you tell him as soon as he's close.

"It is." He doesn't protest.

"You should've let me slap the fuck out of her. I was trying to be decent with her, I was trying and what she did? She ruined my relationship." you spit, Jimin cooing at you but it doesn't seem to help so he glances at Jungkook and pleads with him to do something.

Jungkook doesn't know what that means. Did Haneul break up with you? Surely, he isn't that stupid to do so over this. As far as he knows, you wanted to tell him. You're not a liar.

"Easy there, there's no need for that. I know you're angry and hurt, what she did isn't right. It was a mistake."

"Are you defending her?" you bark, almost jumping at Jungkook who stares at you with doe eyes and Jimin grunts trying to hold you back. Taehyung grips your shoulder and whispers something to you which makes you stay in your place.

"No, I'm just saying." Jungkook says, raising his brows in a silent pity. He doesn't want to fight, he knows you're too vulnerable to hold a conversation without getting sad or angry.

"Then you better shut up." you spit at him, feeling a pang in your chest for acting like this towards him. You know you'll most likely regret it later.

"Okay, tell us love," Jimin says softly, "Where is Haneul?"

He definitely doesn't want to pry or hurt you more, but he feels like he should ask. He's nowhere near sight and they still don't know what exactly happened between you two.

"Upstairs," you sniffle, "He's going home. He doesn't want to stay here."

"Did he... did he break up with you?" Taehyung asks, causing Jimin and Jungkook to shoot him glare as he widens his eyes and shrugs, mouthing 'What?'.

"No," you murmur, "He said he's not but who knows what he'll do." you sniffle.

"It's too late, how the hell does he want to go home?" Jimin voices his thoughts, not liking the drama. It's clear Haneul acts upon his feelings right now, but he definitely should've thought about his decision properly even if it's just for his sake. He's just making a rushed decision, he should be more mature about this.

"He said he'll call one of his friends or he'll ask you." you tell him, voice shaken up before you look at Jimin.

Jimin had one shot and mainly played the game without drinking, wanting to go easy on himself before New Year's Eve because he knows he'll be drunk tomorrow. Two hangovers right after each other doesn't sound good. So he should be fine driving.

He offers you a pitiful gaze, wiping your tears before Jungkook approaches. You stare at him, more like glaring at him and he knows exactly why. None of this is his fault. But you're angry at his girlfriend and she's not present, so you naturally feel anger towards him too. It probably doesn't make sense, but that's what so many uncomfortable and sensitive emotions do to you.

As much as you love Jimin and Taehyung, and appreciate them staying close wanting to comfort you, Jungkook is someone you need close too. As if he could recognize the look you give him, he offers you a slight smile.

"Come here."

You don't hesitate, Jimin lets you go and you fall into Jungkook's arms immediately, crying into his chest. He leans his cheek on top of your head, silently shushing you as he rubs your back.

"It's gonna be okay." That's what he repeats to you and you're completely clueless to approaching the person, unless you hear him call out to Jimin.

You pull away from Jungkook, staring at Haneul who completely ignores you and looks at Jimin.

"Would you mind driving me to a train station? It should be like forty minutes from here." he asks, your heart scrunching at the lack of attention he gives you. Or more like he gives you none. He purposely doesn't look your way and it hurts.

Jimin turns around to glance at you, silently asking you with his eyes. He's definitely being put in an uncomfortable situation.

"It's okay, Jimin." you tell him silently, looking back at Haneul who finally spares you a glance.

Seeing Jungkook so close to you, you see the hurt and anger twisting on her features even though he's trying to appear strong and neutral in front of everyone. You know he probably feels awkward too, considering everyone is staring at him. At least they're kind enough not to glare at him.

Jimin nods, "Sure. Let me just get my keys and wallet."

Jimin offers you one last look, ready to go upstairs to grab his stuff before Haneul's definitive departure. You're no longer in Jungkook's arms, but you feel his presence behind you and something inside Haneul sparks at the sight of you two. He knows it's him being mad, hurt, upset and jealous. It's the way Jungkook stares him down as if he wants to beat the shit out of him for making you cry. It's bizarre.

And the anger even intensifies and alcohol does its own thing, before he can think he's already opening his mouth.

"So what? Did you fuck Jimin and Taehyung too?" he spits at you, looking at you almost with a disgust and new found anger.

Your mouth falls open and complete silence erupts in the room, even Jimin stops in his tracks to stare in disbelief at him. You're not the first one to react, you don't even know how you should react. You feel ashamed, embarrassed, hurt and angry that he talks to you in front of everyone. No, that he even has the audacity to talk to you like this.

However, Jungkook is the first one to react and you don't have the time to hold him back, not that you'd do much even if you had the time considering Jungkook's big size and strength, he's already lashing at Haneul.

It's happening in slow motion but then it's so quick that you barely realize what's happening.

Jungkook grabs Haneul by the collar of his sweatshirt and before you can yell at him to stop, he's already punching Haneul in his jaw. Haneul falls down, yelping in pain as you stay frozen in spot.

"Fuck!" Haneul yells and holds his left side of face in pain, glaring at Jungkook who's standing above him.

"If you ever talk to her like that ever again, it'll be more than just one punch." he warns him, speaking with a loud and stern voice as you gasp, rushing towards them.

You hold Jungkook's wrist causing him to glance down at you as you scowl at him.

"Jungkook, stop." you tell him, tugging him back in fear Haneul would say something in return and you just know Jungkook won't hesitate to actually punch him again.

Jungkook listens, walking to the middle of the room where Namjoon comes up to him and checks him while Jungkook just seems to be glaring at Haneul with dark eyes, not even glancing in Namjoon's way.

Maya joins you, approaching you carefully as she places her hand on your shoulder and offers you a soft smile.

Haneul stands up, not sparing anyone a glance as he grabs his suitcase and drags it outside of the cabin. Jimin looks at you and you give him a nod, knowing he's silently debating what he should do. He nods back, quickly going upstairs.

"I'm so sorry, are you okay?" Maya checks up with you, Taehyung standing right by your side and if you weren't so sad and shocked, you'd joke about him being your bodyguard. It really looks that way.

By the time you plainly answer Maya's worried questions, you see Jimin going down and getting out of the cabin too. This is it, you think. Haneul is not going to come back and who knows what will happen with your relationship. It hurts to even think about it, but you can't help it.

As you're pondering over Haneul, he's already sitting in Jimin's car as your friend sits into the car angrily and shuts the door. He gives Haneul a glare, not even sorry for his bruised cheek and jaw as he sees him cupping it.

"Ah shit, this hurts." he even complains when Jimin starts the engine and puts the car into drive.

"Just so you know, if it weren't for Y/N I would not drive you and I'd let you walk back to Seoul," Jimin tells him coldly. "And if you weren't bleeding already, I'd punch you too."

"I think Jungkook took care of that." Haneul comments sarcastically, causing Jimin to grip the steering wheel tighter. Would you be mad if he punched him too? On another note, he already looks like he's in huge pain.

"Jungkook may have taken care of that, but Jungkook isn't the only friend she has. She has me and Taehyung too. And Jungkook isn't the only one who'll punch you if we ever hear you talking to our friend like that." Jimin tells him through clenched teeth, trying his best to control himself.

Luckily, Haneul stays silent for the rest of the ride and doesn't give Jimin another reason to want to punch him.

When everyone checked on you, or more like gave you pitiful looks and smiles, you realized Jungkook is nowhere near sight. Namjoon tells you he went to the bathroom to take care of his hand, so you thank him and make your way upstairs.

Just like Namjoon has told you, Jungkook is in a bathroom, holding his hand in the sick under the cold water. Jungkook looks at you but he goes back staring at his hand.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, frowning when you turn off the water and hand him an ice pack. He grabs it, sitting down on the edge of the bathtub as you lean against the sink, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Why the hell would you punch him?" you ask, frowning but your tone remains calm.

Jungkook frowns, staring at you for a moment before he scoffs. "Did you not hear what he said? He should be glad I ended up punching him once."

You roll your eyes. "But look at you, your knuckles are cracked and your hand must hurt like hell. Was it really worth it?" you exclaim, pointing towards his hand that is now covered by the ice pack you've brought him.

"Actually yes, it was," he responds dryly, "And I'd do it again."

You sigh, turning around and rummaging through cabinets when you finally find the first aid kid. You motion for him to move the ice pack away, checking his hand to see it's not as awful as you thought. Still, some of his skin is cracked and probably bled too. Jungkook has already cleaned it, so you pull out a tube of antibiotic ointment and apply a thin layer on his skin.

He doesn't gasp or wince when your fingertips touch his knuckles, but sits there with a scowl and slightly pouted lips as a scolded kid. You keep glancing at him every now and then, noticing he's deeply in thoughts barely feeling your hands treating his wound.

"You should probably put a bandage over it," you advise, but Jungkook just waves you off causing you to frown before you sigh. "Fine, do whatever you want." you grumble, putting the first aid kid back after placing the stuff from there in their place.

You turn around, quickly walking out of the room when you feel tears pricking your eyes again. You burst into tears as soon as you make it to your room, noticing there's no Haneul's stuff around and the room suddenly looks and feels empty. You haven't been dating for too long, but it still hurts knowing he decided to leave. And the fact he did just a day before New Year's Eve. You imagined celebrating New Year differently, with him by your side. Now you're not in the mood to even celebrate something. You just want to lock yourself in this room and not get out.

Or maybe you should head back to Seoul too. What are you going to do here? Everyone wants to have fun and celebrate tomorrow, you'll be just ruining it.

You sit on the bed, glancing at Haneul's side of the bed and that's when the door from your bedroom opens. Jimin and Taehyung stand there, pausing before they find you on the bed and look at you with a saddened gaze.

"Oh, sweetie," Taehyung calls out, the two of them immediately rushing towards you after closing the door. They join you in the bed, hugging you immediately. "You're not alone, you know that right?" he mumbles to your hair as you cuddle up to Taehyung and sniffle into his shirt.

You muster to nod weakly, feeling Jimin's hand caressing your back comfortingly.

"I-is he gone?" you ask, glancing at Jimin who smiles sadly and gives you a nod.

"I don't know if it helps, but he looked like he was in a lot of pain."

"Of course, he was. Have you seen Jungkook? It was like a movie. The hell, he punched him like a professional boxer and was right in front of him like a flash, he moved so fast. There's no doubt he's in pain, look how strong Jungkook is and he knows how to fight. And have you seen his muscles?"

Jimin stares dumbfoundedly at his friend, shaking his head at him. "Tae, now is not the right time."

Taehyung shrugs, pursing his lips a little. But then the two men are surprised when they hear you let out a small giggle caused by Taehyung's excited tone and him rumbling. He always says the most random thing, even things that might be considered as inappropriate.

The two of them laugh, trying to cheer you up but you just tell them to shut up. They do.

The door opens and Jungkook appears there, gently closing it as he waits for you to look at him.

"We were just talking about you." Taehyung speaks up, beating up the silence first.

"Yeah? What were you talking about me?" Jungkook asks, voice neutral as he keeps his eyes solely on you.

"What a great puncher you are. Holy shit man, you're like a professional. That was so cool!" Taehyung can't hide his excitement and admiration he has for Jungkook anymore, causing you and Jimin to look at him with narrowed eyes.

"Taehyung," Jimin calls out to him lightly, causing the younger one to look at him with a boxy smile. "Shut up. Not the right time." he snaps, causing his smile to drop as he pouts again.

Jungkook slowly makes his way towards your bed, his own features twisted in worry and sadness at the sight of you.

"I'm sorry if me punching him wasn't the right decision." Jungkook says, sounding somehow plainly but gently at the same time. Even, you know it's difficult for him to say this, knowing Jungkook doesn't regret doing it in the first place.

"The hell dude? Why are you apologizing? He deserved it!"

"Oh my god, seriously shut up!" Jimin exclaims in irritation at Taehyung, causing him to sulk back but he still glares at his friend for scolding him.

You giggle, causing the three men to look at you almost surprisingly before a smile makes a way on each of their lips. You can't help it. You're still hurting but it's amusing to see your friends in their natural habitat. It makes you feel like at least one thing hasn't changed.

"What's done is done," you tell Jungkook, "I don't want to think about it right now."

He offers you a nod, respecting that completely. You lay in the bed, your three friends joining you as they sandwich you between them. Taehyung and Jimin decide to stay in your room for the night, ignoring your protests of them not having to do that. The bed is big enough, but you know it'll most likely get uncomfortable during your sleep when everyone starts moving around.

Jungkook goes back to his room, leaving just when he notices everyone is getting tired. After he takes a shower, he goes straight to bed thinking Kiko is already sleeping. Just as he lays down, she turns to him fully awake.

"I'm sorry," she apologizes silently again, "I wish I could turn back time."

"Well, you can't," Jungkook barks, sighing when he realizes the tone of his voice. "Just... go back to sleep." he tells her more softly as she turns around from him knowing it's better to stay quiet.

He feels bad for snapping at her but he also feels annoyed at her because she had no right to interfere into your relationship and privacy. So he stares at the ceiling until he has an inner battle with his sleep, eyes fluttering shut before he falls asleep.

On the opposite side of the hallway, you're fully awake staring at the ceiling while hearing soft puffs and light snores from Jimin and Taehyung. Taehyung has his entire leg wrapped around your body, cuddling up to you as Jimin is turned around to you with his back.

Just the memories of what happened today are too painful and you feel like you're torturing yourself by thinking about the good time you spent here before it all went downhill. You feel betrayed by Kiko. You tried your best to respect her and this is what she does to you? Is this some kind of revenge? She looked sorry but you don't trust her. Just the thought of her makes your blood boil, you can't help it. You've never felt like you want to physically hurt her, you're not the type to do that.

You were just so mad and controlled by the anger and hurt, that you've no idea what would've happened if Jungkook didn't catch you in time and keep you in place. Your heart and head throbs at the same time, and you're trying your best not to cry again. But you no longer feel weak, you get this sudden shoot of anger and energy inside you, wanting to hurt Kiko just like she hurt you.

How does she always end up being the good one? Not only she messed with Jungkook, she messed with you and maybe ruined your relationship with her big mouth.

And you won't let it slide. No, you won't do that again. Not even for Jungkook's sake.

[feralnando]

Take your punishment

Sexting Mark while he’s on a work trip is all fun and games until he comes home.

Pairings: Mark Webber x Fem!Reader x Fernando Alonso - set in @percervall’s Fuck it Universe

Warnings: it got feral up in here.

Smut, Sexting, oral (m receiving), masturbation, dom!Mark, use of restraints, clothing being ripped off, cuckolding, dirty talk, degradation, fingering, hair pulling, use of ‘Daddy’, P in V, unprotected sex, spanking.

Word count : 1.1k

-

“All good?” David Coulthard queries, trying to stifle a laugh. He’d just watched Mark splutter half of his freshly made coffee over himself, the table and his phone - which he quickly slams face down.

“Y-yeah, peachy.. mate..” was the Aussie’s strained reply as he scrambles to wipe up the mess he’d made. He’d only seen the thumbnail of the video Fernando had sent him but that was enough to not only make him wear his coffee, but know that he needed to find some privacy, ASAP.

“Just, uh, need to clean myself up,” Mark mutters, excusing himself to the bathroom in a manner that he hopes wouldn’t inform David of his steadily growing erection.

-

Closing the door behind him, Mark unlocks his phone. Instantly greeted by the image of you on your knees between Fernando’s legs, big doe eyes looking up at the camera as Fernando lazily strokes himself with his free hand.

“Fucking hell,” Mark hisses, using his free hand to unzip his trousers in an attempt to relieve some pressure. Pushing down his boxers, his cock springs free, a bead of precum already forming.

“You gonna show Mark what he’s missing, nena?” He hears Fernando coo from behind the camera, tapping his cock against your lips.

You flash a coy smile, trailing your tongue along the length of the Spaniard's cock before taking it into your mouth completely, the action eliciting a moan from him that makes Mark shudder, now so desperate for release that he’s given up on feeling the shame of having a wank in a bathroom stall of his workplace.

He strokes his cock at the pace you’re servicing Fernando, wishing it was you. The sounds coming from the video alone would be enough to finish him off, but paired with the sight of you - bobbing up and down Fernando’s cock as you maintain eye contact with the camera - it doesn’t take long for him to be biting back a string of curses as he spills over his hand.

‘You’re both getting punished when I’m back home!’ he types once he’s cleaned up and tucked back into his boxers.

-

The punishment, as it turns out, doesn’t feel like much of a punishment to you. Mark having a fistful of your hair as he fucks you into the mattress, would class as a pretty good evening in your books.

Fernando however, is not having a good time, at all.

Within a few minutes of Mark arriving home, Fernando found himself being manhandled to the bedroom.

You find his predicament amusing, until Jenson scoops you up in his arms and you’re following suit.

“Don’t look at me like that doll, I’m just doing as Mark asked,” the Brit shrugs “sounds like you deserve it though,”he adds, playfully nipping at your ear before throwing you over his shoulder.

As soon as you’re deposited into the bedroom, you see that Fernando has already been stripped and unceremoniously dumped onto the wooden chair in the corner.

He starts to protest but the second Mark grabs his jaw and forces eye contact, he quickly rethinks back chatting the older man.

“I was at work!” Mark growls, maintaining his grip on Fernando as he shoots a look over to you, as if reminding you that you’re in trouble too. “You’re lucky David wasn’t sitting closer to me..you want Coulthard to see what’s mine?” You both shake your heads, swallowing thickly. “Didn’t think so,” he huffs, letting go of Fernando’s jaw with a shove and pacing over to the bag he returned home with.

Fernando, quite frankly, can't decide if he’s terrified or more horny than he was to begin with as Mark returns to his side, armed with navy bondage rope.

“You’re gonna stay still and watch me ruin her, got it?” He hisses, pulling Fernando’s wrists behind his back and securing them to the chair.

“M-Mark, is this necessary?” he stammers, tugging against the restraints as Mark moves on to binding his ankles to the chair legs - spreading him wide.

Mark doesn’t dignify this with a response. Instead, once satisfied that he’s fully restricted, he bows his head, licking a long strip up the Spaniard’s cock. A helpless whine escapes him as Mark turns his attention back to you - leaving him painfully hard.

“Get over there and face him,” Mark orders and you’re moving without hesitation, eager to please. You breath hitches as you feel his presence behind you, big hands sliding up and down your body as he toys with the silk of your dress. The tearing sound that follows leaves you dumbfounded as he rips the clothing off of you. “The fuck, Mark!” You gasp as you watch the fabric fall to the floor.

“I’ll buy you another one,” he hums, trailing his fingers across your now bare skin - watching the goosebumps form. You go to protest, but his mouth on your neck stops any coherent thoughts you’re having.

You notice that his voice softens slightly as he asks for your colours. The ragged yet reassuring echo of ‘green’ from both lovers has him picking up the pace as his fingers snake their way lower “she’s so fucking wet, Nando.” He groans.

Fernando whines at the lewd sounds that follow as Mark expertly curls his fingers into you. He’s already rock hard and looking exceptionally pitiful about it. His cock twitching helplessly as he takes in the sight in front of him.

Knowing just how to torture you both, Mark wraps your hair around his fist and tugs, using it to direct your gaze at Fernando.

“Break eye contact with him and I'll edge you till you’re crying, got it?” A shiver runs down your spine and all you can do is moan in reply. That clearly isn't enough for Mark, as you feel his hand strike your ass a second later. “I expect a reply, sweetheart”

“Y-yes, yes Daddy,” the sound that the term rewards you with, is downright sinful.

“That’s my good girl..” he smirks, shoving you down onto the bed as you desperately try to keep your eyes locked on the wide eyed hazel ones staring back at you. You almost falter as he pulls your underwear to the side, teasing you with the tip of his cock.

“You gonna take your punishment like a good little whore?” You would reply to this, but the sensation of him suddenly filling you leaves you devoid of any words and you feel the sharp sting of his hand once more.

“I asked you a question,” Mark all but growls in your ear.

“Yes-.. Yes, Daddy,” you’re quick to correct yourself. You can feel Mark smile against your skin as he murmurs his praise. He presses your back against his front, a hand curling around your throat to make sure you keep your head up and eyes locked on Fernando. Judging by the way the Spaniard is looking at the both of you –eyes glazed over in lust and cock weeping–, you are in for a long night.

Well, here it is! First fic in a long while, so please be kind..

This was the result of the brainrot sessions ™ with @percervall , who helped me out so much with this 🖤 ily Mar!

Feedback on this filth would be greatly appreciated.

[carolmunson]

come get me, come love me (older!modern!eddie)

part four of who knows how many. orange colored sky set list surprise chapter, bitches. after we got rained out at the park, we finish our date at eddie's apartment in prospect heights, things heat up despite the storm. inspired by @loveshotzz older steve series: all i really want is you (see if you can spot the easter egg in this lil chapter.) tw: age gappy (reader is late 20s/early 30s, eddie is late 30s/early 40s), kissin', reader wears eddie's clothes but there's no body description songspiration: lovesick | banks

The door to the building is wedged between a restaurant and a pet store on a long street of bars and places to eat. You’ve been down here plenty of times, the ramen spot closer to the end of the street is to die for, and one of the ice cream shops is the best in this part of the city. He unhooks the carabiner from his belt loop and hurries the key into the heavy iron grate door before bumbling into the wooden one behind it.

“Whew!” he says when you both get inside, wiping some of the rain from his face. He leads you up the stairs to the second floor and down the small hallways. “Both doors are mine, but this is the front door,” he smiles, kicking his shoes off at the mat off to the side. You do the same. “Sorry if it’s a little messy,” he says, keys jingling in his hands while he opens the door, “Maid took the week off.”

You snort when you follow him inside but he looks at you over his shoulder, “No, seriously. It was her son’s birthday on Sunday so I told her not to come in. I try to keep it together for the most part, but – I don’t know, Sasha gives it a special somethin’ I’ve never been able to do on my own.” 

It’s a little stunning, his apartment. And when you think a little you mean a lot, a floor and a half with a metal spiral staircase that separates the open concept kitchen from the living room, dining room hybrid on the wall closest to the door. Oak floors that look newly shined, a big and deep sectional closing off the space so a dining room table and chairs could be placed on the other half of the room. Even the exposed brick on the back wall looks like it was just put in. His hand rests on your back while he guides you up to the next floor, the metal cold on your bare feet, shivering against the coolness of the central air whooshing through the place.

“If you want I can give you something comfy to wear and throw your stuff in the laundry,” he says when you make it to the top, opening the door, “Bathroom is just around the corner.”

“You have in-unit laundry?” you ask with a breathy sigh.

“I know, I’m so dreamy,” he winks, “You gonna take me up on my offer? There’s towels in there already.”

“Sure,” you take off the linen shirt and pass it to him, “I’ll be right out.” 

The bathroom is small-ish but well put together, it looks like he had it gutted and redone to be more modern, navy blue marbled tiles in the shower with gunmetal hardware – he has an eye, you figure. You open one of the cabinets to see dark blue towels folded and fluffy, waiting for you. The image that meets you in the mirror makes you frown when you wipe your face off – a wet rat with mascara running down her cheeks, blush and lipgloss long faded. You sigh and do your best to wash off your face with what you can, peeling off your wet layers and keeping them on the counter.

“Wanna swap?” he asks while knocking on the door. You ball up your wet clothes, holding the towel up against your chest while you open the door a sliver, easing them out into his waiting hand. You can’t see him but you hear his little snicker while he pushes the dry clothes into your open palm. “You got it?” he asks. “I got it,” you say, balancing them into the room and shutting the door quietly. “Let me know if you want something different,” he offers. You shake out the folded clothes, big black sweatpants and an old, soft band tee. Corroded Coffin spelled out in jagged letters on the front with a marionette dangling from a demonic clawed hand on the back. “This is fine,” you say, slipping them on, “What band is this?”  “It’s mine,” he says. You can hear his footsteps walking away from the bathroom while he talks, “Told you I was a rockstar!” 

When you’re fully changed into his sweats and shirt you emerge from the bathroom, padding out of the tiles in socked feet. You can hear him downstairs putting the leftover snacks into the fridge and freezer from the cooler. Like the sleuth you are, you take in what you can to learn more about him, inching down the short hallway and peeking into one of the rooms. His bedroom looks like a bachelor’s – not in the way a guy in their twenties would have it, but it’s clear he wants to semi impress whoever he’s taking home. You admire the coziness of the space: wrought iron bed frame – likely a vintage thrift find or thousands of dollars. Dark bedding with knit blankets at the foot of the mattress, a dark green rug under the bed atop the oak floors. His walls are littered with framed photos of him with people you don’t know. Show posters under glass from the 90s, some vintage posters from the 70s. It smells like cedar and a nice hotel lobby candle, manly and unassuming. His dressers are a deep walnut wood that compliment the floors with ease – he did say he had an eye for color. Your eyes wander, looking towards the doors of a walk in closet, more art on the walls. A beautiful baroque style mirror that looks straight out of a gothic mansion leaning heavy in the corner. However, you feel heat rush to your cheeks when, slightly hidden, you see two sets of handcuffs dangling off a small hook by one of his bedside tables. 

“Find anything interesting, Nancy Drew?” 

His low rumble makes you jump, turning to see him leaning against the wall of the hallway with his arms crossed. You breathe out a nervous giggle, “Sorry, was just seeing the place. Your room is nice.” 

“Thank you,” he nods, “I just got it redecorated — got a friend who's a killer interior designer.” 

“I bet you got a friend for everything,” you say, meeting him in the hallway where he opens the door to the next room. It's dark, covered in squares of soundproofing foam. A few different guitars hang from the wall above a big desk with three monitors, computer below whirring in a low hum. 

“I do,” he says, “We exchange a lot of favors. This is where I work from for the most part. Laundry is just a closet next to the bathroom. And uh…you saw downstairs, so I guess that’s the tour.” “It’s a really, really nice spot,” you confess, heading back down the spiral staircase, “Super good location, too.” “It wasn’t when I landed here in ‘04,” he leans on the railing at the top step looking down at you, “But you were prob’ly learnin’ fractions back then.” “You’re annoying,” you cross your arms at the bottom stairs staring up at his boyish grin, he winks again – your legs are jello. “I’m gonna change real quick, I made you a cup of coffee – there’s creamer in the fridge if you need it,” he calls out before disappearing from the staircase to change. You go to the fridge where there’s a litter of polaroids stuck to the stainless steel – most of them of a German Shepherd puppy posed with him and another guy, clean cut, nothing like Eddie.

“Whose the cute dog?” you ask when you hear his footsteps against the metal.   

“Oh that’s my nephew, his name’s Bandit,” he says, pulling a shirt over his head while he makes it back down the spiral staircase. Your eyes linger on the tattoos on his chest, trailing down his obliques, “The dog, not the guy in the pictures.” “I figured.” “That’s my buddy Steve, he’s like my brother. I was out in Chicago for a couple months helping him get his shit back on track – we got him a puppy to keep his mind off things,” Eddie snorts, watching you pour some cream into your mug. You offer to do so for him but he shakes his head, taking it from you to put back in the fridge. “Is he okay?” 

“His wife just passed away,” he says quietly. You offer him a sad face and he shrugs in that ‘What can you do?’ kind of way that guys do when they don’t know what to say, “You clothes should be all set in an hour or so.” “Oh, and then you’re kickin’ me out?” you tease, drinking your coffee up against the counter. He smirks, running his palm over the scratchy scruff of his chin and jaw. “Nah, not at all. You can stay as long as you want,” he shakes his head, his curls already starting to dry around his face – big and defined now with the summer rain, “Just didn’t think you’d wanna hang out at some old man’s house all afternoon.” “See, I was thinking how fun it would be to clear you out of your Raisin Bran,” you smirk against the lip of your mug while he makes his way towards you. He crosses his arms, taking slow steps before he’s got you caged in against the counter. If your nose knows, he definitely spritzed a spray of his cologne before he made it back down stairs – dark, spicy sandalwood enveloping you with a whisper of laundry detergent. 

“I’m almost out, actually,” he grins, lids half closing while he looks down into your eyes, “But it’s okay, I have an unopened box of Kashi multigrain in one of these cabinets somewhere.” He waits for your next dig, knowing it’s coming by the quirk in your lips – you’re full of them today. “Gotta keep that blood pressure in check,” you tease again, trying to keep yourself from smiling as he leans in, a deep short chuckle coming from his throat. You little brat, it sounds like.  “It’s really good for your heart health, actually,” he corrects, brows raising a little. A smirk flits across his full lips when he watches you falter a little, your pretty eyes glazing and glassy while he looms over you. His voice gets low and smoky, just like his cologne, “Maybe you could learn a thing or two from me, hm?”

You shut your eyes, biting the inside of your cheek – you can’t show him how good he’s getting you right now, not so soon, “Oh totally, like what the best pill cases are for my future arthritis medicine.” He laughs, the soft crows feet around his eyes crinkling with it. It’s a barking laugh, quick and sharp – you’re sharp, he likes that, “I can definitely do that.” His nose brushes yours and you brace yourself for what’s coming next, ready to feel him kiss you. To feel the buzz of his hands on you like how they were when he led you inside, when he put his hand on your hands in the park. His lips ghost above yours, breath fanning over your face while you take a final one before the inevitable. “You’ve got a quick mouth there, kleine,” he says smoothly. He reaches around you to grab his own mug of coffee, taking a long sip. Eddie catches the miniscule drop of your shoulders, a silent win goes off in his head. You want him to kiss you so bad and that makes him feel like a million bucks – fuck that – a trillion bucks. 

He steps back, taking a sip of his coffee while the apartment gets a little darker, the storm rolling further in. “What’s ‘kleine’?” you ask, trying to regain your breath. He smiles, walking over to the dimmer on the wall and easing the lights up to a warm glow. “It’s German,” he says, looking over his shoulder, “Loosely translates to baby girl.” “You know German?” you ask, trying to not let the translation send you directly into outer space. You watch him with his coffee cup make his way over to the sectional in his open living space. It’s big and inviting, covered in a sea of throws that it looks like he collected over the years. He plops down, tilting his head toward the seat next to him to encourage you over. “I did an extended run of Cabaret in Jersey like – pffft, I don’t know, a million years ago,” he shrugs, putting his coffee on the table in front of him while you plop yourself down on the deep, squishy cushions. You swallow hard when a waft of his cologne hits you again, trying your hardest not to crawl onto his lap to take him in. 

“Saw the show in ‘98 with Alan Cumming, lost my mind – I mean, really transformative for an 18 year old I guess. Years later when I moved out here I saw there was auditions for it and just got knee deep in that shit, taught myself German and everything to make it sound more authentic,” he looks forward wistfully while he recounts the story, smiling at you when he comes back to himself, “Was very helpful when I went to Berlin a few years later.” 

“Oh, how was that?” you ask, “Did you have fun? I’ve never been to Europe.” 

“I’d tell you about all the fun I had if I could remember it,” he grins,flopping his arm up over the back of the couch, beckoning you closer. “C’mere, honey,” he says, the quiet of his voice putting you at ease. You scooch closer to him while he pulls one of the blankets from the end of the chaise cushion and wraps it around your shoulders. With the blanket comes his arm with no hesitation, his hand resting on your shoulder and then down to your waist. “I like to marathon the Twilight Zone when it gets shitty out like this,” he explains, “You down?” 

“Yeah,” you smile, “I’m down. I’ve seen a couple handfuls of episodes.” 

“Yeah? What’s your favorite?” “Hm,” you think, “I think The Monsters are Due on Maple Street. It’s the first one I ever watched.”  “We’ll start with that one, then.” He operates everything from an app on his phone, it surprises you that you’re not as techy as he seems to be. It’s not long before the episode starts and his hold on you becomes more intentional, more cuddly. Thunder booms overhead when the episode gets more intense, making you embarrassed when you jolt. He giggles at you, pulling you in closer – a soft whisper of I got you leaves his lips, you barely hear it.  You snuggle up together while the episode ends and another starts, you tilt your head up toward him, “What’s your favorite?”

“Ooh, good question,” he smirks, “I think The Hitchhiker – it was the first one my uncle ever showed me when I started living with him. Scared the shit out of me.”

“You? Scared?” you quirk a brow, looking down at the way he holds you – assured, confident, “You don’t seem like someone who gets scared very often.” 

“That’s the old age, peach,” he chuckles out, low and rumbly, “All that Raisin Bran, really switches up that fight or flight.” When you laugh he looks down at you, eyes sparkling, noses close together, “Is that funny?” “Yeah, it’s funny,” you say back just as quietly, adjusting yourself a little closer to him, “You’re funny.” His eyes flick down to your lips and then back up, you feel his hand spread out on your waist while he leans in closer, pressing up against you. 

“Just funny?” he asks, watching your eyes flutter closed and then open. His lips ghosting over yours, edge of his bottom lip skating over the curve of your cupid’s bow. 

“No, not just…” you breathe, too intoxicated by how close he is, how his lips and breath tease you. His hand glides up from your waist, trailing a fingertip up the side of your neck, stopping under your chin. You shiver at the touch, goosebumps flooding your arms and legs, belly flipping in somersaults. He tilts your head up, his cocking slowly to the side while his watches for your reaction.

“The show’s about to come back on.” The words are soft and quiet when they leave your mouth, your last ditch effort while fear and excitement roar in your ears. His eyes feel like magnets that you’re constantly pulled too, locking with them while he leans in.

“It’s a boring episode,” he grumbles out quietly from behind a smirk, eyes closing while the tip of your nose is brushed with his. He teases one last time before his lips press warmly against yours, parting slightly to capture them.  You breathe in sharp through your nose, butterflies fluttering and slamming against your chest for release. His hands come up to lay themselves against your cheeks, now hot with excitement while they find home behind your head and neck. He’s fiending for you in the insatiable way he’s felt before, the way a man fiends for a woman.

His leads, taking control of the way the kiss moves with each tilt of his head, changing the intensity each time he breaks away to breathe and come back to you. His lips are full and plush, a soft pink that works for him, it’s almost innocent, when you know he’s anything but. He comes in again, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down gently to encourage you to let his tongue slide into your mouth. 

His hands greedily pull you in by the waist now that your tongues are brushing, wrapping up together with no space between. You whimper into it, unable to keep the butterflies in your stomach at bay with his other hand roams down your back. You feel his lips stretch into a smile against yours, a growl of a chuckle coming out of his chest when he pulls away again. More kisses, soft and sweet with eyes closed, noses nuzzling before lips meet again. You climb onto his lap, he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you – tight and protective. You lead this time, a hand coming up to cup his jaw while you kiss, taking his bottom lip between your teeth this time. He relents, grip softening on you, fingertips grazing the tops of your thighs over the material of his sweatpants. Your hips roll forward over his and he pulls away.

“Steady now, sugar,” he warns, looking up at you with heavy lidded brown eyes, “I don’t fuck on the first date.” You pout a little, he likes that face, “You got some kind of moral code, old man?” “M’just not that kind of girl, baby,” he shrugs lightly, taking your hand and pressing soft kisses to your fingertips. His eyes don’t leave yours, big and innocent – like he’s challenging you, “Gotta keep you wantin’ more of me.” You can’t imagine not wanting more of him, no matter how much he gave you. “Then how come you kiss me like that?” you ask, his lips still leaving pillowy kisses against your fingers, “Like you’re hungry for me?” 

“Oh, I am hungry, peach,” he smirks, tongue sliding out and gliding up the space between your first and middle finger. The tip of his tongue flicks the pads of them at the top, before taking just your fingertips into his mouth for a moment – hot and wet. Your mouth hangs open, drool collecting under your tongue at the feeling – imagining it happening exactly where you both want it to. “I think we should cut into that icebox cake,” he offers with a smile, like he didn’t just tease you into complete stupidity, “That’ll solve my problem.” He kisses your cheek as he guides you off his lap to get up, feeling lucky that he put on boxer briefs to keep his now painful erection contained – though his sweatpants left little to the imagination. Eddie comes back with two plates with heaping slices of dessert, passing you a spoon while you try your best to calm down. 

“You okay?” he asks sweetly, brushing a stray hair out of your face. You nod, shoving a bite into your mouth so you don’t scream over his gentle touch and soft eyes. So you don’t yell and stomp through his living room about how bad you want him to bring you upstairs and eat you out. So you don’t tell him about the butterflies. You eat, watch, and talk – getting stories on his tattoos, you tell him about how you just started living alone, he tells you all the best spots to get furniture. You share soft little kisses while cuddled under blankets, laughing at the bad special effects and talking about the good special effects for the 60s as the episodes continue on. You fall asleep on his shoulder and he lets out a big deep breath – he likes that you already feel comfortable enough to do so. He swallows hard, doing his best to settle down his own butterflies. 

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[arminsumi]

Hi! If your requests are still open, could you do fluff nsfw prompt "3 — Accidentally walking in on them while they're changing" with Gojo?

👉👈 I just love the way you write him! 💖

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲

A/N: omg thank you robynn!! eheh i enjoy writing for him (clearly, i've been spamming so much gojo content lately lol) idk if i deviated a bit at the end 🙈

Wc ≈ 1k

Pairing: GOJO Satoru x f.reader

Summary: waking up in your best friend's apartment the night after his 29th birthday party and wandering into his room to find him shirtless

Warnings; 🔞mdni — n.sfw fluff!! implied drinking the night before/hangover morning, suggestive, 'sweetheart', mild nudity, kinda sexual/romantic tension, suggestive jokes

♪ 悲しきByーPlayer

You'd slept over at Satoru's last night after going out for drinks until the wee hours.

Yawning, stretching, groaning — recalling the murky events of last night as you wiped the morning tears out of your eyes and headed into the bathroom. It was a small apartment, Satoru could hear the thump of your feet on the wooden floor as you walked down the hallway.

Okay, if she's awake I'm awake. He thought, and rolled out of his futon. He smiled thinking of the night before.

All the events he could recall were drunkenly giggling down the streets of Tokyo with you tucked under his protective arm, and how the two of you tumbled into the train, and how you clung to him.

What a miracle that you two didn't have severe hangovers, considering how much sake you and Satoru had at the teahouse last night.

"Hey, mornin' birthday boy — Satoru? — Satoruuu." you knocked at his doorframe with the back of your finger.

"Mmm?" he hummed like he said come in.

He was hobbling around his room multitasking his morning routine; brushing his teeth, tugging his old shirt off, brushing his hand through his hair to get the knots out.

You slid open the door, freezing at the sight of your shirtless best friend.

"I need to borrow a shirt." you asked with forced calmness.

You managed to act unfazed, even when his pretty lashes batted at you. He had the bleariest eyes in the morning.

"In thuh closhet." Satoru mumbled through foaming toothpaste, wandering into the interconnected bathroom to finish brushing his teeth.

You blinked at the sight of his back, watching as he bent over to rinse his mouth at the sink. The subtlest flex of his back muscles made you weak in the knees. Yes, you knew he went to the gym, but it didn't fully occur to you for some reason that he was a fit boy.

With the way his hair stuck up in the back, and the way his sweatpants dangled dangerously low on his hips, your mind naturally went through a series of fantasies.

It felt like the image of his torso was burned into your mind. The soft but defined contours, the dips and curves. The little poet in the back of your mind compared him to a renaissance sculpture.

You pried your attention off of him when he glanced up at you in the mirror. Maybe it was your imagination, but you thought you saw him smirking. You even thought you felt his eyes on you, checking you out as you exchanged your rain-smelling shirt for one of his own.

Oh yeah, we got caught in the rain last night. You remembered.

Satoru came out of the bathroom. He bowed his head to avoid scraping it against the top of the doorframe. Tall boy problems.

Look who's wearing my shirt. He thought to himself smirkingly.

Trying to act natural was hard for you, but not impossible. Satoru was amused when he heard the nervous cracks in your voice.

"Satoru, put a shirt on." you scolded him because you were flustered.

"Why, does my chest make you uncomfortable? Are we really friends if you can't handle a little nudity? I thought you were comfortable around me? Huh?" he overreacted jokingly.

You mumbled something like; "... too early to deal with your nonsense..."

"Ah, c'mon, you love it when I annoy you. I know you do." he said, and lowered himself to hug you.

He tended to do that — just hug you out of nowhere. It had never happened before where he did it while shirtless, though. Now that stirred you up (and he knew it).

"Let's get some coffee." he murmured against your neck.

"Satoru!" you giggled, "What the hell!"

"What?"

"Put a damn shirt on before you hug me!" you squeaked, giving away that he had completely flustered you.

He just chuckled against your skin, then pulled away and muttered a half-hearted apology.

⁕⁕⁕

"That shirtless hug was deliberate." you complained to him over coffee. A stark morning light filled the cafe — coincidentally, you and Satoru used to visit this one when you were teenagers.

"Gosh, you're still on about that? 'Must have really stirred you up." he winked flirtatiously. You rolled your eyes. Ah, it was just like old times. You two didn't change a bit.

"It didn't stir me up at all." you denounced, taking a sip of your beverage, almost burning the tip of your tongue on it.

"I'm sure you can't get the image of my sexy body out of your mind."

You groaned, "You still talk like you did when you were seventeen. Oh, yeah, anyways — how's it feel to be thirty?"

"What the hell! I'm twenty-nine!" he whined, blue eyes looking at you. A strip of light fell across the edge of his face, very slightly illuminating his eye.

"Basically thirty." you teased.

He shook his head at you. "I'm gonna get you back for that..."

"Oh yeah? How?"

He pulled out his phone, so you looked at him very suspiciously. Satoru sipped on his coffee and batted his eyes at his phone screen.

You received a message.

"What the — DON'T SEND ME YOUR GYM PICS."

He burst out laughing like a maniac. "I need your approval!" he joked.

"I've already seen enough of Gojo Satoru's chest this morning, thank you!" you said so loudly just as the waitress came over and asked if you two wanted anything else.

Satoru slid down and laughed chokingly, showing off those pretty canines. You muttered embarrassedly to the waitress that you didn't need anything else, then proceeded to scold Satoru, which only made him laugh harder.

"Hey — hey, Y/n, sweetheart — " he tried to speak through his laughter. His cheeks were so red, it reminded you of how red they glowed when you and him got drunk last night.

"What is it, Satoru?"

"I need to send you a pic, for approval of this other thing — "

"AH HELL NO."

"HAHAHA!!" he threw his head back.

You snatched his phone right out of his hands before he could even send that. "You're ridiculous!" you scolded, and he just made this dry hiccoughing laugh.

"But we're best friends! If I can't get approval from you then — "

"How are we still best friends after what you told me last night at the teahouse!" you laughed, "Dumbass!"

"What? What did I say? Oh my god, what did I say?" he sat up, looking half-serious now. "Ah, tell me! I have to know! Did I embarrass myself?"

The waitress was coming back over with the bill for you. You saw an opportune moment, and there was a devil on your shoulder that morning.

"You told me how you've 'always wanted to fuck me since you first met me' — but of course you were so drunk, how could you remember!" you told him with a dreadfully teasing tone.

His face went so red, it matched the shade of his hoodie.

"Uh... that'll be 400 yen..." the waitress muttered awkwardly.

[skele-bunny]

okay okay okay gimme pregnant swiss!!! (with mountain ofc)

Self Conscious. (CW) Mountain/Swiss

CW - Self Image Issues, "fat" used negatively

Characters: Swiss, Mountain

(Hi STINKY 🫵 Swissalps for you. Fluff post! Divider by @ wrathofrats )

Staring into the mirror felt like a burden. A disgrace and reminder of how tormented and swollen Swiss felt. His eyes lingered as he turned, grimace worsening as his very obvious, very big, very fat pregnant stomach looked back. Carrying twins wasn't pretty, Swiss knew it wouldn't be. He just didn't expect it to look so bad on him. After all, Swiss was only three months pregnant at this point. He felt disproportionate. His keyhole scars around his chest just a bright pink as his breasts started swelling again, leading to another thing Swiss hated about his current stature.

Stretch marks ran up his sides, armpits, and more importantly his stomach. The soft flesh just above his genitals had started swelling just as much to the point he required help to shave himself. Needless to say, Swiss felt fucking ugly.

The multi turned to see skin rolls on his back, and that just seemed to set him off. Tears slowly swelled before openly crying, bringing his hands up to cover his face. He used the sink counter to lower onto the closed toilet seat, tail wrapping around his thigh and squeezing for some kind of reassurance that did nothing but make it worse as Swiss eyed the extra fat it squeezed.

His sobs wracked through his body, setting off a surge of both hormones and elements, dead flowers popping up through his frazzled hair he hadn't gotten done yet. Even worse, his body felt hotter than normal, hand going to his chest as a warning burp made itself known. He was a mess. Through and through. Another wail left, finger pads pushing into his round stomach.

"Petal?" A knock at the closed bathroom door echoed, Mountain's scent of worry becoming obvious as the smell of wet dirt clouded. "Are you alright? I could smell you from the kitchen."

The sentence hit worse, Swiss now too obvious of his own body odor from not showering yet. "G-Go away!" He sobbed again.

"Oh, darling... What's the matter?"

Swiss couldn't find it in himself to respond, frantically wiping his cheeks and shaking his head. The door knob jiggled before a silent curse, a tiny vine slipping through the keyhole and the wooden door opened, Swiss snapping his head up and grabbing the roll of toilet paper near to throw at Mountain's head—Who thankfully ducked in time.

"Get out!" He now grabbed their toothbrush holder, throwing it next. "Get the fuck away from me!"

Mountain lifted his hand, catching the container quickly but placing it back down with gentleness. "Swiss... What's the matter?" He got down to one knee, ignoring as Swiss pushed at his shoulders and chest.

He kept sobbing, "Get away from me! I-I smell bad, and you said you could smell me, and I don't even know how you can stand looking at me!" Swiss fumbled as Mountain carefully grabbed his wrists, concern written on the earth ghoul.

"Darling, you smell distressed, not bad... Sweetheart..." Mountain whined, lifting his hands away to carefully wipe away tears that fell from his mates puffy face. "What's ailing you?"

Moving to lean into Mountain's calloused palms, Swiss sniffled again, his ears drooped. "I feel so ugly, Mount... I can't stand looking at myself anymore. I try t-to find positives in everything but I just can't. I'm not cut out for this..."

In an instant, Mountain's heart shattered. In his eyes, Swiss was the representation of the sun and moon, the existence of both life and death. He was beautiful. Represented every single thing Mountain loved, packed into one. To know his mate seen himself in such a negative light hurt him, better yet the fact of how much his mate was hurting—unbeknownst to Mountain this entire time.

"Are you having second thoughts?" He asked quietly, leaning up to rest his chin on Swiss' shoulder so the other could dead weight against him.

"No—Maybe? I don't know... I feel so lost. I feel so disgusting about everything. I love you, I love our children, but I can't... Love myself. I can't love the fact that me growing our kits is doing this to me."

The earth ghoul trilled, tail swaying some as he thought for a moment. "Can I use my logic?"

"I love your logic." Swiss laughed some, letting tears continue to quietly go down Mountain's shoulder.

"Okay, well... Tell me what you're not liking."

"My breasts are coming back."

"Well, since you stopped testosterone, your estrogen is coming back in play. Our bodies are quick to adapt, and you're in another adaptation stage. They're now clicking into your other hormones like prolactin which is causing the growth. However, since you had top surgery, your prolactin is trying to fill in the gaps which is causing the bumps." Mountain moved back, showing Swiss the bumps along his chest. "They're swelling your ducts more to prepare for the kits as you're carrying multiple and don't have bigger areas to swell at. However, once the kits get out of a nursing stage, you'll start getting flat again."

"So it's not," Swiss looked up, grimacing just a bit. "Forever?"

"No. Not forever. They may have a bit of a swelling for a long time, but not outright breasts. You'll just have some Aether tits." That caused a laugh from the multi, slowly kicking his feet back and forth.

"My stomach."

The taller moved down again, nuzzling his face against the bump and kissing it gently. "Your uterus is creating extra layers of protection and enlarging itself for nutrients and more blood flow using endometrium. Since you're growing two rascals, it's having to expand more to adjust to their sizes. Earth kits are known for being giants... Let alone the sac placed around them. But your body is adjusting to the size change and actively going to keep them healthy."

Swiss stayed silent, looking down as Mountain caressed his stomach. His fingers were so delicate, going up his stretch marks to his belly button. He leaned in once more to place a kiss.

"If you're worried about what you'll look like after, our skin is elastic. It's how we're able to shift through our forms without ripping ourselves open. You can maintain your size, if that's what you want, or simply use your elasticity to shimmer back down. Your stretch marks, though, won't go away..." Mountain sighed, admiring his mate's skin. "But I love them. Baphomet save me, I love them so much. Every single one of them."

A small laugh, "Even the ones on my cooch?"

"Even the ones on your cooch."

Leaning down, Swiss gently cupped Mountain's jaw so they could make eye contact. "Do you promise that you still love me? That I'm attractive? I don't even fit in your clothes anymore..."

"Oh, petal... I think if mother nature was a person, it'd be you. I think you're more beautiful than the earth." Swiss' heart jumped, tears swelling up more.

It was a serious mockery to ghouls to whisper your love more than your element, but such a strong example of devotion. Swiss wrapped his arms around Mountain's neck, crying harder against his shoulder. Never once did Mountain let go of Swiss, purring and sending comforting pheromones to try and relax.

Wiping his eyes on Mountain's collar, Swiss exhaled. "I need to shower and do my hair, I just need to feel... Better."

"Want me to help you?"

"...Please." Swiss nodded. "I need to shave."

"Ahh, deforestation. The bane of my existence."

Swiss broke into hysterical laughter, covering his mouth as he snorted. Even Mountain kept a smile as he leaned over to turn on their shower, making sure the temperature was comfortable.

"Am I washing your hair?" He asked, questioning to grab Swiss' shower cap or not.

"Yeah." Mountain placed the cap back on their shower caddy.

Slowly stripping himself, Swiss couldn't help but eye the stretch marks Mountain had on his back, slowly looking down at his thighs that had similar design. He smiled somewhat, rubbing his thumb over the discolored line.

"And what would my darling like his style to be once we're done?" Mountain scooped Swiss up, stepping them into the warm water, sitting him on the shower stool. "Are we thinking buns, are we thinking top knots, maybe even twists?" His claws gently began to rake through Swiss' messy afro, pick carefully sectioning his hair.

The sigh of relief that left Swiss could easily be mistaken for a moan, Mountain's tail twitching in response. He gave a chuckle, moving to kiss his mate's forehead.

"Dealers choice?"

Swiss nodded, moving his back against Mountain's fur-covered legs. "Yeah... Dealer's choice."

[steviebbboi]

The following came out of nowhere but the grooves in my brain felt stimulated by seeing this gif of Jake bby 😭 💖 thanks for the ask bb <3

Just A Small Town Girl (bf!Jake x Reader)

Word count: 575

Summary: Coming home to Jake is always something that you look forward to.

Disclaimer: ***I don't give any permission for this to be reposted anywhere! Pls do not steal work, plagiarism isn't cute***

Reblogs help writers reach more readers who may also enjoy our work. As you like, kindly reblog~ <3

Warnings: 18+ for implied smut, naked Jake w/subtle notions to sexualized thoughts. Quotes from the Losers were used, (i do not own the DC franchise -- wished i did own jake tho).

A big sigh left your body as you sluggishly tugged your boots off. Haphazardly hanging your coat onto the coat rack, you tossed your keys into the bowl next to you.

“Baby?” You called out distractedly. Finishing a 14 hour shift at the hospital, your tummy loudly grumbled for sustenance. As you scrambled through the fridge to make yourself a sandwich, you noticed that you didn’t get to hear if Jake was actually home. 

Tossing the bread onto the counter, you arched your head to look at the hallway leading to the other parts of your apartment and called out again, “Jakie? You home?”

Tuning in, you could softly hear the shower running and what sounded like singing, or atleast, that's what you thought you were hearing.

You grinned as you braced yourself for what you expected to be a really funny image. Tiptoeing down the hall, you made sure to avoid the creaky pressure point on the wooden floor to silently open the bathroom door. Heated steam instantly enveloped your vision as Jake’s high pitched tones became clear. 

“Just a small town girl, living in a looonely world, she took the midnight train going aaanywhere. Da-DOOM!” 

Barely holding in your laugh at your boyfriend’s dulcet falsetto voice, you tried your best to muffle your laughter as you crept up towards the shower curtain to reach out and suddenly grab it. 

“Streeet light, peop—AHHHH!” Mid-singing, Jake screamed in shock as the curtain ripped open, the steamy and warm bubble from the running water was suddenly wrapped in cold, frigid air as he took in your laughing figure.

“Babe!? I told you to stop doing that!” Jake whined out as soap suddenly got in his eye. He exclaimed and put his face under the running stream only to hear you giggling again. 

“Yeah, but if I stop doing it then I’d never get to see this.” You gestured humorously towards his naked and cut body. Your grin turned salacious as you took in his bare form, eyes drifting up and down his muscular figure. The damp sheen over his body only enhanced all the features that made him so lovely to look at, your eyes straying from his strong thighs to his cock– that was already at half-mast, partly from the cold air but also with you just checking him out.

Jake grinned comically and asked, “Yeah, baby? You’re likin’ the angle of the dangle?” Placing his soapy hands on his hips, he turned to face you for your viewing pleasure. 

Muffling another giggle at how cute he was, you mockingly turned your expression into something more serious as you responded, “Soooo much, Jakie. I think I better help you out, you know, since I rudely interrupted your concert between you and that sponge in your hand.” 

Jake forgot that he was holding it as he suddenly felt the foam material touch the sides of his upper thighs. 

Laughing again at the look of embarrassment on his face, you cooed at him, “Aw baby, I’m just messin’ with you. You know that I always love coming home to you like this.”

Reassurance swept through his handsome face as he sheepishly grinned at you, “I missed you too. Do you, uh, really wanna come in and, ahem, help?” 

Responding with your own mischievous grin, your fatigue from earlier drifted away from your body as your clothes hit the shower floor. 

Suddenly, you were hungry for something else. 

A/N: i luv him so much. this is a short lil drabble but hey! this broke my Jake Jensen masterlist cherry <3

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