#wow this morning is hitting much harder than i expected

[buttdumplin]

It'd be nice to see Price be as desperate for a househusband as he seems to be for a wife

[staysaneathome]

Since the wonderful @johndead answered some pressing concerns about Martin Care, decided to write a little something set in their universe!

Emil frowned at the creature sat on the countertop before him.

It was short and squat, about the size of a kitten. Its…hair? Fur? Was long and stringy, and matched the rest of its ragged appearance.

Its large eyes stared at him, unblinking and wet.

Emil blinks first, and frowned harder at the creature. His thumb hovered over the contacts in his phone.

Alexa was the most sensible one in the office, and the one most likely to know what this was and tell him with the least fuss, but she also had said when she left work that she and her boyfriend were taking a long weekend to Bath for a romantic getaway, and so any emergencies would have to wait til Monday.

Danny was probably next best, as his hyperfixations meant he could spout off detailed knowledge about any number of random subjects, but if this thing didn’t fall under that umbrella, then he and Emil would both be stumped. He was also still on that urban exploration kick, and might be bowels deep in a sewer somewhere with no phone reception.

Which left…

Emil sighs, then stiffens at the way the creature stared at him, leaning forward slightly.

He didn’t want to have to do this. But desperate times…

He hits the video call button, and waited a few tense minutes for it to ring.

“Hello? Emil, is that you?”

His heart most definitely did not skip a beat at the face filling his screen, peering at him in concern. “Lynn.”

“Hi Emil!” His boss (who he certainly did not have a crush on, shut up) chirped, a smile splitting their face. It wavers slightly. “Um. Not to be rude of anything, but you never call me outside work hours—is something wrong?”

“I got home and found something had got into my flat.” He stated. “I’ve no clue what the hell this thing is. Hold on, I’ll show you.”

He turned the phone around to face the creature. It reared back slightly, wet eyes darting between him and the screen, nose twitching.

Whatever Emil expected to happen, it was not for his boss to let out a small squeal of delight.

“Aw! Hey there buddy, hello! Oh, you’re so little, Emil he’s adorable!”

He raises an eyebrow at the creature, whose fur/hair/whatever was beginning to lift like a cat’s. “If this thing is adorable then I’m about to win Love Island. What is it.”

“Oh, oh right,” Lynn said, sounding flustered. “Well, that’s a Jon! I don’t know as much about them as I do about Martins, but they’re really fascinating creatures! A bit shy and prickly at first, but really quite sweet once you get to know them. I’ve only ever seen them in pet shops before or videos online, where did you find him?”

“I got home and found it drinking water from my sink.” Emil reports, keeping a firm eye on this “Jon” thing. “I must have not turned it off right when I left this morning—Oi. Stop that. Lynn, it’s doing something weird.”

A set of floating, glowing eyes are starting to manifest out of the air surrounding the Jon, staring hard at the phone as it bristles and lets out a low hissing noise.

“Is that the first threat display he’s made?” Lynn asks. “Didn’t he do this when you got in?”

“No,” Emil grits out, crossing the kitchen with a hand hovering over his phone protectively. Thankfully the eyes can’t follow more than a few inches, and the Jon’s hissing died down some, though it still glares imperiously at the phone. “Little bastard just walked over and stared at me the entire time.”

There’s an excited gasp from the other end of the line. “Oh wow, Emil, I think that means he likes you! Most of the videos I’ve watched say that Jons usually do a lot of threat displays to people or animals they’re not sure of. Maybe he thinks you’re a kindred spirit?”

Emil can’t help the scowl and slight flush that comes to his face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He snaps. “It’s not like I’m keeping the damn thing.”

“O-oh.” Lynn’s face falls slightly, before they smile again. Emil steadfastly ignores the pang that sends through him. “That’s fair. Not everyone has time for a pet, I guess. Though I think most shelters might be closed tonight, and I’m not sure if they open on weekends?”

Emil closes his eyes and groans. Great. Just great. Now he has to deal with a little eyeball creep staring at him for potentially two days. How’s he going to make sure it doesn’t get sick or starve during that time? He’s not even sure he has food in for himself.

“I could send you some care instructions, if you like?” Lynn offers tentatively. “There are a few good websites online where I’ve got advice for caring for my Martin before, and I think their basic needs are similar—wide, shallow bowls for food and water, soft materials for nesting in, plenty of space and enrichment, that sort of thing. There might be some differences though, because I know my Martin loves poetry—”

As if on cue, the Jon hisses loudly at the word “poetry”, it’s fur standing on end and several glowing eyes (plus one tape recorder) popping into existence around it.

“Fucking—!” Emil rears back.

“Sorry! Sorry, I shouldn’t have said the p word!” Lynn apologizes. “Yeah, there are loads of videos online of people putting a book of K-E-A-T-S behind their Jon to make him jump or start mauling it. It’s really not nice for the little guys, but I suppose since it gets their owners views they think—”

“Lynn.” Emil interrupts, before his boss can go off on another tangent about ethical treatment of pets on social media. “Just, just send me the links. Please.”

“Alright!” Lynn chirps. “I’ve also got some old stuff I had that my Martin didn’t end up using, like a carrier and toys and stuff. Would you like me to give them a wash, bring them over to see if Jon likes them?”

“Sure.” Emil says, without thinking. “Why not. I’ll be in all weekend.”

“Great!” Lynn looks almost nervous, smiling at him. “I’ll send the links and see you tomorrow then?”

It finally clicks in Emil’s brain that he’s just invited his boss (his crush) over to his place to try and help him wrangle a weird eyeball creature.

Rather than say anything sensible to abort the situation, Emil instead chokes out. “Y-yeah. I’ll send you the address. See you.”

They beam at him, and then their picture vanishes with a small bloop.

Emil puts his phone down on the countertop.

Then he promptly sits on the floor, puts his head into his knees, and screams mentally.

What was he thinking?! Sure he can just about survive during the workday, when there’s a veil of professionalism between them, and Danny and Alexa besides, but coming around to his flat?! In casual clothes, with their glow-in-the-dark nail polish and their general personality in his space?! Alone?!

He’s done for. Doomed. He may as well quit now, he’s so sure he’s going to embarrass himself and make them hate him and screw everything up forever.

There’s a weird pitter-patter sound, interrupted by small vibrations.

When he looks up, he sees the Jon is staring meaningfully down at him.

He heaves a bigger sigh. “Can’t I have a crisis in peace?”

That only makes the Jon’s eyes grow bigger and wetter, almost hungry-looking. Apparently not.

He gets to his feet and unlocks his phone. Alongside all the links Lynn has texted, they’ve also sent a picture of a much rounder, more ascetically pleasing creature in glasses, blinking happily at the camera from a nest of shredded paper, wool and scraps of fabric, and teabags.

The caption under it says “Martin says to say hello! :D”

He holds the picture up to the Jon, ready to pull it away at the first sign of hissing or floating eyes. “See this? This is cute. What do you have to say for yourself, huh?”

The Jon leans towards the screen, nose twitching, eyes wet and huge and unblinking.

It reaches out a paw and rests it against the shoulder of the Martin-picture. Then it leans its head against it.

Emil ends up slowly letting go of his phone until it is lying flat on the table again for the Jon to curl up on it.

Its unblinking eyes slide closed. It begins to make a rusty sound, almost like a cat’s purr, if a bit more…mechanical maybe? A tape recorder running, perhaps.

Emil reaches out to try and pick the phone up.

The purring stops. One eye opens and stares at him.

“Or not.” He scrubs a hand through his hair. “Hell, you’re just as hopeless as me, aren’t you.”

The Jon’s eye closes and he begins purring again at a louder rate.

Emil huffs a breath of laughter. Still. If he’s not getting his phone back soon, he’d better try and get started on the things Lynn told him about so they don’t arrive tomorrow and find he’s somehow managed to kill the Jon.

Wide shallow bowls for water, for a start…

[umichenginabroad]

Week 2: Galway, Cliffs of Moher, Dublin Castle, Hurling, London!

Hi everyone! Wow it’s been a crazy week!

We got up early on Sunday to take the 8 am train to Galway. It only costs 8 euro for students, but we couldn’t figure out how to choose our seats so all ended up apart. We all wanted to sleep but most of us got stuck in loud cabins full of little kids, so maybe we should’ve tried harder to choose our seats. When we arrived in Galway, we grabbed take out breakfast from a local cafe and ate in Eyre Square. We booked a bus to Cliffs of Moher so we went to the meeting spot and it took about 2 hours to get to Cliffs of Moher. The bus driver told us it was the longest line to park he had ever seen(how lucky). We were able to explore for 2 hours and the view was breathtaking. The bus rides went by very fast because the bus driver played some really good music.

When we arrived back in Galway, we checked into our hotel, changed, and headed out for the night. We ate at a super yummy burger place, explored around the water with a drink in hand (there are no open carry laws in Ireland), and hit a few pubs. It turns out the Sunday before Bank Holiday’s there are people out everywhere so we all ended up having too much to drink and struggled to get up Monday. Anyway, we woke up around 10 and shopped around, stopped by the cathedral, ate delicious pizza, and then headed back to Dublin on the 3:00 pm train. We took the bus home from Heuston station and got back around 6:45 pm. We picked up some food at centra to make and all ate together before heading to bed.

Tuesday we had morning classes and a field trip to the National Library to see exhibitions of Yeats and Heaney. The exhibitions were really cool although some of them were more graphic then we expected lol. We were left on our own to get back to UCD so we decided to explore the city and grab a bite to eat at Hairy Lemon. The fish and chips were amazing and I officially ordered my first Guinness(kind of embarrassing 2 weeks in). We stopped for ice cream then headed back to UCD to do laundry and hangout.

Wednesday was another day of classes with another field trip to the Dublin Castle! The Dublin Castle was beautiful and we got a brief history of the castle as well as how it is used today. After, a few of us stayed downtown where we checked out The Bank for a drink, a Mexican restaurant, The Capital Cocktail Lounge, and Flannery’s. Let’s just say it was a long and very fun Wednesday night! :)

Thursday, I struggled to get up but it was another full day of classes. This day included a physics lab that was so incredibly difficult and ended up taking the entire 3 hours. We also learned the hard truth that getting a perfect score is extremely hard here as our 8/10 on previous labs were accompanied by zero red marks and a “very good.” After the lab, we ate at pi restaurant and headed to meet up with the summer at ucd team for hurling 101. Hurling was so fun a mix of lacrosse and field hockey (the two sports I played in high school) + baseball. Our friends ended up winning a lot of the competitions so a lot of us ended up winning Seamus(the summer at UCD mascot). Jessie even won the entire collection! I finished up the night planning and packing for London.

Friday morning we had classes and then we headed straight to the airport via taxi for a flight to London! I have been to London before but was so excited to be back. We took at taxi from Heathrow to the hostel we were staying at. It was my first experience in a Hostel and we had our own private room which was super nice. We arrived around 9:45 pm, changed quickly, and headed out to O’Neill’s which was recommended by Jessie. We had a super fun night and ended up staying out later than expected. Many drinks later, the night ended perfectly with McDonald’s Haloumi fries.

Saturday, we woke up at 8 and headed in a taxi to the Tower of London. We headed straight for the Crown Jewels which were stunning, then explored the rest of the sites. The whole experience was amazing! We then took a walk over the Tower Bridge and went to Borough Market where we had the most amazing food. The chocolate strawberries were perfection. Once we were stuffed, we went to see the London Eye, Big Ben, and Westminster Abbey. We then headed towards Theatre Royal Drury Lane for tea. It was gorgeous and all of the food was amazing. We ended up staying there for almost 3 hours and enjoyed the tea and conversation(and the air conditioning). Once we finished, we made our way back to the Hostel and stopped by a tiny wine shop to get a couple of bottles for later. We rested until about 9:30 when we drank our wine, got a light dinner and drinks at a local greek place, then headed to a club we had researched. We had a fun night but were all exhausted from the day.

Yesterday, we got up around 9, which was a rough wake up call, checked out of the Hostel, and headed to Buckingham Palace to watch the changing of the guards. I had seen this before but it was still super cool and the music they played(including parts of the Lion King) was great. We then grabbed brunch at a cafe on the way to Regent Street where we spent most of our day shopping. We finished the day with sushi and gelato before heading to Gatwick for our flight. Although our taxi driver was concerned that we did not leave ourselves enough time, we got there in plenty of time and our flight ended up being delayed about two hours(thanks Aerlingus). During this time, we bought Coronation Chicken crisps, Prawn Cocktail Pringles, and some other interesting snacks to try. They surprisingly all ended up being pretty good. Our flight finally took off and we finished our travel at 1:45 am this morning when we arrived back at UCD.

Because of my lack of sleep this entire weekend, I am writing this a little late from bed before we head on a field trip to Kilmainham Gaol.

Elsa Pater

Industrial and Operations Engineering

BIG 10 STEM and Irish Studies: University College Dublin in Dublin, Ireland

[grxvitye]

the easy route.

pairing: mean!sub!natasha romanoff x fem!reader

a/n: i absolutely adore writing nat as a sub, thank you for this req i def need to be drowned in holy water after this-🏃‍♀️💨

anon requested: Hey there hope you're having a good day/ night so far! I was wondering if you could make a Natasha x reader where she's rude and mean towards reader cause she secretly likes R. During Natasha insulting R, R pushes against a wall and starts to tease her cause Nat is flustered and shocked. You can make things fluffy or smutty after, preferably both LOL

warnings: harsh comments, sub!nat, size kink

words: 1.3k | marvel masterlist. | navigation.

you do not have my permission to translate nor to repost my writing on any platform. comments, likes and reblogs are always very much appreciated<3

“Good Morning Ms Romanoff, I apologize for disturbing you but you are needed in the common room” Stark’s AI announced. Groaning, Nat stands up and quickly changes into appropriate clothes, seeing as she was only dressed in a pair of shorts and a thin brassiere. After changing she headed for the common room, confused as to why it was already noisy.

“What is going on here?” She questioned the boys with a smile. “Sit down, Nat I have a lot of important things to say” Tony replied. Quickly scanning the room for an empty chair, she scowled when she saw that the only available room was beside you. She opted to stand up instead, ready to do anything just not to stay with you. Tony noticed her gaze, and immediately urged her to sit down saying “this is going to be long, it's good if you sit down.” Sighing defeatedly, she dragged her feet across the room to sit down beside you.

Once she was settled in, Tony began his briefing. She was completely zoned out up to the point where he said, you won’t be joining the mission considering your “great” performance in the last few missions you were assigned to. Scoffing, she questioned Tony's decision. “Great? She barely made it out alive, she could have fucked up that mission Tony.” You turn to her clearly hurt. You decided to let it go, Natasha wasn’t always a morning person, plus you had to get used to her being mean to you. Although she was mean, there was something different about her gaze, it was longer, maybe filled with need but you brushed it off you must have been imagining things.

Tony paid no attention to Natasha’s outburst, clearly knowing she was going to have a bigger one after his next statement. “According to Fury and me of course, both Y/n and Natasha will be staying here in the compound, excluded from the mission.” He exclaimed with full finality. Natasha couldn’t believe it. Her? Excluded from a mission? And she had to stay with you for god knows how long? God no, she dreaded this. She was about to say something but she was interrupted with loud rustlings of the chair being pushed back, they were going.

The team had already left and you were here, stuck with Natasha. You didn’t mind but you actually preferred it if she had stopped being mean and tried to hold a conversation with you. You went into your room, and changed into a pair of shorts and a cropped shirt. You sit down on the sofa and pick out a movie. You were clearly not focused, your mind kept wandering onto Nat and how her gaze changed. It wasn't a gaze filled with hatred anymore, not what you grew accustomed to. It was filled with something else. You think hard… lust? You shake the thought away, it was obviously dumb. But you couldn’t deny it, you had some a lot of inappropriate thoughts about her. You always had your eyes on her neck, wondering how pretty she would look with your hands wrapped around it. How she’d throw her head back and how pretty she would be, moaning your name.

It was unfair how they left her out, going on a mission and leaving her here with you, knowing that not only did you like her, you craved her. She stands up and wonders what y/n is doing so she gets out and head out to the common room, once again dressed with inappropriate clothing. She sees her, sitting on the couch cross-legged and eyes snapped onto the tv but her mind was obviously somewhere else. Her eyes dragged down and she noticed her body reacting to the skimpy attire you were wearing. She didn't know she was staring until you called her attention.

You snap out of your thoughts when you notice the redhead staring at you with a drool almost seeping out her lips. Smirking, you called her attention. “Hey, see something you like?” She quickly retorts while saying “why would i want to see you like that? You're gross” You pin her to the wall and you absolutely adored seeing her as flustered as she can be while being pinned by you. You decide to make fun of her, all while not letting go of her wrists. “Wow you were so feisty awhile ago, what happened now hmm?” You laugh while continuing “where’s that hate bravado you kept up with me hmm? Where is it?” You adjusted your thighs and you were shocked when you heard a low moan escape Nat’s lips.

You direct your eyes to your legs and you see how it is perfectly nestled in between her legs, rubbing off on her core. “You like that Nattie? Hmm?” you expected her to put the bravado back on but you were completely taken aback when she whimpered and begged. It was a sight, way better than what your imagination could come up with. “Please y/n, please” she begged, low whimpers escaping her mouth. A part of you wanted to let her beg for it more, but you also wanted to take her right then. You immediately picked her up and sat down on the couch while placing her on top of your thigh. She immediately started to rock her hips to your thigh, while a string of her curses and moans filled the living room. You adored no, you love how she sounds. You took one nipple onto your mouth, sucking on it while gripping her back, moaning at the feeling of her wetness dripping onto your thigh.

Her breathing started to become uneven, and her moans continually got louder. You lift her up and she whimpers at the loss of contact. “Shh, i want you to cum around my cock moja ljubov” Her eyes widened when she heard you speak her native language. “I know, I speak russian too sweetheart” you stood up and went into your room grabbing the largest dildo you had. You directly assumed she was a size queen so you strapped it on your hips and made your way back to her. You came back and her eyes widened at how big your strap was. “On your back detka.” She immediately complied and had her back against the couch. You run your thumb over her clit and slowly started to insert the fake cock onto her pussy.

She gasped slightly and you looked at her for approval to continue moving. She nodded and you immediately thrust your hips onto hers and you could feel her walls clamping down on the fake cock as it got harder and harder to thrust in. “Y/n faster please- faster” she begged you, again. With a newfound strength you started going faster while gripping her hips and her nails digging into your back. You licked her nipples, sucking at them while continuing to thrust into her. “Fuck, Y/n, yes” she moaned loudly. “Mhm you like that Nattie? You like me filling up your pussy, stretching it so good?” “Y- yes y/n.. i love it so much, i love it when you fill me up so good” you smile at her submissive frame and you look at her again, lust clouding your eyes. You raised her hips, thrusting into her while rubbing your fingers onto her clit, directly hitting her sweet spot. “Y/n, yes, right there, just like tha- oh fuck, im close, so close baby, don’t fucking stop” “such a good slut for me arent you? come on malyshka, cum for me, cum around my cock"

With a few more thrusts, you felt her clamp down on the strap, shaking while your name and moans fell from her lips. You continued to thrust into her letting her ride her high and you stopped until you felt her breathing become even again. She knelt down, legs shaking and fiddled with the strap. When she finally got it undone, she looked at you intently “it’s my turn to repay you.”

[mud-castle]

In the dark mirror au, have their been instances were kittypet queens kinda just expect their kits to be taken and make sure that they're ready? Like, Thunderclan breaks into a Twoleg nest and instead of fighting the queen, she's just like "I've got two mollies and a tom, one of the mollies is a little small, though I think she's big enough to still go with you. I gave them forest-y names; Pebble, Fern, and Sparrow, please let them keep their names as a final gift from their mother." Has something like that ever happened?

Wow, that's depressing...

So, I must put it in:

Story below the cut:

Paprika was a fool.

She had known of the raids the forest cats sometimes launched on the neighborhood cats. She had known of the kits that had been stolen and of mothers and fathers who had been injured when they tried to protect them.

Yet, she had also known that the raids were rare, more often done on loners, rogues, and city cats. The forest cats didn't want to draw the ire of the humans by attacking their pets too often. Rather, their attacks on the neighborhood were more often made at those who had strayed too close to their beloved trees.

So, Paprika had dismissed the concerns of her friend Trixie when she'd told her of her plans to have kits. The last raid the forest cats had been just about a month ago. Often, they only happened two or three times a year. Paprika had seen a number of kittens born, grow, and be given their own housefolk.

Paprika had always wanted kits, little ones running around under her paws. She'd daydreamed of the things she would teach them. Like, the best places to sharpen your claws, the names of types of birds that came around the feeder, how to get your housefolk to scratch the itch you couldn't reach, and so much more. And, like the idiot she was, she'd decided that it was safe to finally have her own.

She'd been given birth to three precious kittens three months later. Two mollies and a tom. Two weeks went by without issue. Parenting was a little harder than she anticipated, but with the help of her housefolk, she took to it rather easily. The kittens had opened their eyes and ears and explored the world that was the basket in the kitchen.

A week later, a forest cat had been spotted four houses from her own. It had simply walked along the fence, looking into houses, and disappeared about an hour later. Paprika kept a closer eye on her kittens. They had begun to babble, weakly attempting to mimic her own words.

Two nights after that, the cat was seen again. Two houses from her own. It had done the same thing, watching the houses, before going off once again. Paprika decided to stay in the house instead of spending her mornings and evenings outside chatting with the neighborhood cats and dogs. Her kits had started mewing their first word. "Mama"

Two nights later, Paprika was awoken by nothing. Her kittens lay sound asleep next to her. She gave each of them a lick on the head, heart warming as they purred contently. Her housefolk had gone to bed a little earlier than usual. She could hear him snoring away. With a yawn, she turned her head towards the window. She froze.

Wide, orange eyes locked onto narrowed, green ones. Paprika had never seen a forest cat before. It was big, far bigger than her. She couldn't see much of its details as it had its back turned to the light of the moon. But she could see its eyes slide over to where her kittens were nestled against her, and the glint of fangs as its mouth parted into a wide, wicked grin.

Paprika bristled, alarm shooting through her body. She turned in the direction of her housefolk's room, wondering if she could wake him up before the forest cat could try anything. But when she turned back to the window, it was gone. Paprika didn't go back to sleep.

Rage hit first, then indignance, then helplessness. There was nothing she could do to protect her kittens. She'd personally seen the wounds on cat who had fought back. The forest cats never killed them, but they left some wishing they had. She plead for help, but no one would. Many cats turned their noses, sneering that she deserved it for making such a idiotic decision. Others simply gave her a pitying look, unwilling to risk their lives for a pawful of kits. They told her to accept her fate. Some of the dogs had wanted to help, but were unable to escape their backyards. Deep down she'd known better than to bother asking.

So, she did the one thing she could think of. She prepared her kittens for the inevitable. She made up stories of strong, noble cats who fought monsters in the woods. She taught them a hunting a crouch as best as she could. They began to speak in full sentences. They played games like "Hunter" where one of them was a mouse and the others had to catch them, or "Battle" where their made up groups fought off monsters.

It took longer than she thought, about a month later. But, she wasn't surprised when one night when her housefolk had gone out they appeared in the kitchen , eyes gleaming, claws flexing. No doubt prepared for a fight. They were big, and their pelts were unnaturally glossy and sleek. Paprika eyed each one, a spotted molly, a light gray tom, and the cat she'd seen in the window. His jaw was scarred and crooked.

She sighed quietly, numbness overtaking her body. She nudged her kittens to the strange cats, ignoring the confused squeaks of protest. The foresters blinked at her in surprise, expecting her to fight back or at least run.

"These are my kits," she began quietly, "there are two mollies and a tom."

She nudged the first kit, a dark tabby molly. "This one is Sparrow, she's the eldest." The bold kit swatted at the spotted she-cat when she bent to pick her up. The wild cat withdrew, hissing slightly, before snatching her up roughly.

"Ow!" Sparrow cried, "Mama! She's hurting me!"

Paprika flinched, but nosed her second kit, "He is Fern, the second oldest." Fern, took a slight step back, glancing back warily.

"Mama?"

He didn't fight when the gray tom picked him up, gentler than the spotted one had been with Sparrow.

A lump had begun to form in her throat by the time she turned to her youngest, the runt. "This is Pebble, she's the youngest. She's a little small but-" she paused to choke back sob, "but, I think she's strong enough to make the journey."

None of the cats moved. The crooked jawed tom stared at the kitten for a long moment. Finally, he sneered, speaking for the first time, "Scrap couldn't even survive a stiff wind." He flicked his tail, and the other two cats moved towards the door.

A strange mix of relief and guilt made Paprika's legs quiver. She quickly took her littlest one back to the basket, almost afraid he'd change his mind if she took too long. Her other kittens cried for her as they were taken away from the basket, away from their home, away from her. She curled her paws around her littlest one, not daring to face the foresters again, unable to face the looks of betrayal her kittens were surely throwing her.

She heard a scoff from behind her, the spotted molly, "I told you kittypets were cowardly, they won't even defend their own kits."

"She'll just have more later." The crooked jawed tom answered breezily, "Probably won't even remember these ones."

Another voice, the gray tom, "Next time she should mate with a stronger tom. These tiny things are hardly worth the effort."

Their voices grew muffled as they left through the cat flap.

She looked to the little kitten they had left her. Pebble. Paprika's lips curled back at the name. Never would this little one be taken from her. She would not touch the land beyond the fence or fight over a pile of bones. Paprika wanted her to never have any association with the wild cats. This little kit would never know hunger, or bloodshed, or anything outside of the housefolk's protection. And she certainly wouldn't bear the name of anything from that wretched forest.

She clutched her littlest one close, her rage giving way to grief. She finally allowed her tears to fall, for sobs to shake her shoulders. How could she have been so stupid?

"Mama?" her kitten mewed, pawing at her face in concern, "Are you okay? Mama?"

"Next time" the gray tom had said.

Next time?

There wouldn't be a next time.

[softyoongiionly]

chapstick

based on the time Jungkook said he needed someone to scold him so he’d remember to put lip balm on.

Or 

Jungkook’s had a really long day and the only that can make it better, is seeing you. 

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 5.8k

Genre: fluff, smut, established relationship, jungkook has a man bun idk what else I could possibly want

Warnings: language, explicit smut (18+ only plz), oral (male receiving)

A/N: Hello yes, I am mess. I wrote this in like four hours and it’s unedited but wow wow wow wow I am GOING THROUGH it for Jungkook. Anywayz, I love u. here u go

Jungkook is in a bad mood today.

He’s been awake since 6am, he hasn’t eaten since mid-morning and, he’s been practicing for over 12 hours.

Worst of all, everyone else seems to be in a good mood.  

It’s not that he hates when his hyung's are happy, it’s just that when you’re in a bad mood-  sometimes the shriek of someone’s laughter can feel intrusive.  

“Alright!” Hoseok’s voice hits the practice mirrors and with Jungkook feeling oversensitive, he cringes at the sound of it, “Let’s go again from the top!”

Jungkook sighs through his nose, stretching his sore back for a moment before getting back into formation.

“Jungkook-ah! Push a little harder in the second half ok?!”  

Hoseok is in dance-mode and therefore he has no idea how loud he’s being.

Jungkook purses his lips and nods, taking a deep breath before shaking out his hands.

“Yah! Jungkook?” Hoseok calls, facing the mirror, his eyes searching for Jungkook at the back of the practice room.

“Yeh.” He grunts, barely looking up from the floor.

“Did you hear me?”

He nods, his hands fumbling around in the pockets of his sweatpants, “Push harder in the second half...”

The rest of the boys seem unphased by his uninterested demeanor. They are no stranger to exhaustion.  

“Alright- let’s go.”

For what feels like the 100th time today, Jungkook moves through the routine as if it were second nature. The movements feel robotic and the muscles in his arms are beginning to turn to Jell-O. The strands of his hair are covered with sweat and, he’s thankful for his newly procured undercut for lessening the amount of heat he’d normally feel after working out this long.  

He feels gross though.  

Normally, he enjoys working this hard but today he isn’t feeling it. In fact, the strain between his brows is getting a little painful as he really tries his best not to frown.

The new choreography is intense and as much he likes the challenge- after the 100th time of running through it, he’s starting to get frustrated.

Panting through his nose, he holds his position at the end of the routine before Hoseok finally calls it.

“Yahhhh! That was a lot better huh? You guys did good.” He praises, clapping his hands, “Now go get some water and then we’ll run it again...”

Jungkook sighs hopelessly, letting his head fall back on his shoulders. He cringes at the feeling of sweat collecting on his skin, wanting nothing more than to make it back home to his shower.

Amongst other things...

Grabbing a bottle of water off of the table, Jungkook has to work very hard not to crush the bottle in his hands as he eagerly gulps down what he can. He finishes the bottle in record time and as he reaches for a second one, he pulls his phone out of his pocket to check it.  

Tweety: hiii I hope you’re having a good day! Do you want to takeout tonight? I got caught up at the school and, I didn’t pull anything out.

Jungkook feels his tight chest loosen up a bit as he sees your text come through.

You made a comment one day that he ‘gives off bugs bunny vibes’ and he responded by comparing you to Tweety bird.  

Needless to say, the nicknames are dumb but you guys think they’re cute.  

Bugs: takeout sounds good. I’ll be there late tonight though :/ I hope you had a good day too. Miss u.

Jungkook has just enough time to respond to you before he is wincing at the sound of Hoseok corralling everyone back to the practice floor.

Again, again, again, again, and again...

He’s so tired by the end of the circuit that he’s starting to feel throbbing in his temples. Headaches are a common side effect of over-exertion and just as he is getting ready to beg to go home, they are calling it.

“Ok ok- good job! You’ve worked hard everyone. Let’s rest for a day and then resume on Sunday.”

Jungkook feels his entire body deflate with relief at the last words parading out of Hoseok’s mouth.  

His day is finally over.

He reminds himself to never wear new boots to rehearsal again because he can’t feel the tips of his toes and his fairly certain there are blisters on the of his ankles.  

“Are you riding with me?” Jimin asks him on the way out of the practice room, his voice decorated with exhaustion.

Jungkook doesn’t fully pay attention to his question, his eyes already trained on his phone.

“No, I’m getting my own car.”

Jimin looks confused for a moment before a small smirk comes over his face.

“Are going to see her?”

Jungkook doesn’t respond quick enough, his mouth parted slightly as he types out his message to you.

“Aren’t you worried what people are going to think? You’re over there a lot...”

Jimin isn’t being judgmental with his questioning and Jungkook knows this. He can hear the genuine concern in his voice and understands that his hyung is merely looking out for him.

“I don’t really care what people think anymore.” He answers honestly, ensuring that he keeps his tone as polite as possible.  

Jungkook’s had to worry about the opinions of others since he was 15. As grateful as he is for his career, he is growing tired of being unable to make his own decisions. His gaze hones in on the tattoos covering his fingers and forearms and remembers a time not too long ago where he was required to hide them. Putting a band aids on his own self-expression didn’t feel good and he sort of promised himself that he wouldn’t allow the expectations of others to stop him from doing what he wanted.  

Or seeing who he wanted...

“You’re getting bolder with age.” Jimin notes, somewhat proudly as his eyes flicker over to him, “You really like her, don’t you?”

Tweety: miss u toooooo. I ordered ramen

Bugs: I just got out. I should be there in 20 minutes. I’m so hungry

Jungkook feels his cheeks heat up at Jimin’s question and rather than answer him, he just kind of shrugs, his mouth turned up in a small smirk.  

“Yah, don’t hold out on me-”Jimin bumps his shoulder, tilting his head in an attempt to get him to look his way, “We’ve known each other for how long?”

Jungkook slips his phone back into his pocket and adjusts his bag on his shoulder.

“I think the answer is obvious hyung.”

Jimin rolls his eyes playfully, “If it’s so obvious then why don’t you just say it.”

The two of them lean against the wall of the lobby, waiting on a notification from their drivers that they are outside.

Jungkook bites his lip, in an attempt to reign in the grin that threatens his face.

“I like her.”

Laughter trickles out of Jimin’s lips as he bumps his shoulder, “Why are you shy all of the sudden? Is there something else I don’t know?”

Yes.

There was something else Jimin didn’t know.  

Jungkook hasn’t told a single soul since it happened.  

He’s so incredibly private and after meeting you, he only has more of an urge to keep things to himself.  

“There’s nothing.” Jungkook mutters, his eyes eagerly looking checking his phone for the driver notification.

“You’re lying to me.” Jimin calls him out, “What is it?”

Jungkook shakes his head, tucking a bit of hair behind his ear. He licks over his lips and immediately regrets the fact that he forgot his Chapstick.

How’s he supposed to kiss you, if his lips are chapped?

“Jungkook-ah, tell me-” Jimin whines, tugging on his sleeve.

He merely snickers finally and shrugs him off, shaking his head, “There’s nothing to tell. Why do you think I’m hiding something from you?”

“Because I’ve known you for almost ten years and I-” Jimin begins before a knowing smirk comes over his face, “Wait- you’ve slept with her haven’t you?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen a bit, taken aback by his bold statement, “Someone’s going to hear you, why are you asking questions like this?”

His hyung giggles, deeply satisfied with his discovery, “You have, haven't you?”

Jungkook feels the threat of a smile come over his face again, “Why do you want to know? It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters-” He shoots him a pointed look, “Because we’re best friends? And I want to know. When did it happen?”

Jungkook is feeling a little bit bolder, unable to help the pride he feels that he was finally able to experience an intimate relationship, “Which time?”

Jimin’s eyes widen before he slaps Jungkook on the arm, “Which time??? You’ve done it more than once?”

“Shhh-” Jungkook whisper yells, his brow furrowing, “We’ve been seeing eachother for 6 months. Why do you look so surprised?”

Jimin chuckles this time, glancing behind him, “I just- I don’t know...it was your first time, wasn’t it? I just thought you’d make a bigger deal of it.”

He shrugs again, a smirk still lingering, “It was a big deal- to us. I thought you guys would just figure it out eventually.”

Ever the nosy one, Jimin slinks a little closer to him, a bit of mischief in his eyes, “It’s fun huh?”

Jungkook just rolls his eyes, brushing him off playfully, “I thought I was supposed to be the youngest.”

Jimin ignores his comment and just looks at him expectantly.

Giving up on holding out, Jungkook finally gives him what he wants and replies.

“It was fun.”

Jimin offers his signature bit of laughter again but before he’s able to interrogate him any further, Jungkook finally gets the notification that his driver is here.

“I’ll see you Sunday, hyung.” Jungkook gives him a short wave before adjusting his bag on his shoulder.

Jimin smirks and flutters his fingers in his direction, “Have fun.”

Jungkook just shakes his head, groaning to himself as he finally leaves the building.

Slumping into his seat, he shuts his eyes for a moment and tries his best not to fall asleep. Thankfully, his desire to eat his weight in ramen paired with his desire to see you keeps him from passing out.  

You and Jungkook have been together for a while now and although the initial nerves surrounding seeing him have lessened slightly, you still want to look good for him. Thankfully for you, when it comes to impressing your boyfriend- less is more.  

Slowly but surely, he has revealed his preferences to you but they have slipped out casually. He doesn’t ever want you to feel like you have to look a certain way for him.  

But you do know he likes black.

And you do know he likes when you wear oversized pieces.

The harsh bit of winter also makes dressing in gigantic hoodies and thick socks a lot easier anyhow.  

So you opt for something along the lines of cute but comfy and tend to your hair the easiest way you know how.  

Jungkook also loves it when you don’t wear any makeup. But he’s never told you directly, you’ve just figured out based on the way he gets all starry eyed every time you wash your face at night.  

The ramen is all set up in the living room and you’ve got one of the Christmas movies the two of you started the other day, ready to play.  

By the time you hear a knock at your door, everything is ready for a cozy Friday night with your boyfriend.

Upon opening your door, you are met with the sight of Jungkook- sweaty, soft and slightly sleepy standing there in all of his glory. He’s dressed in grey sweats and a big white t-shirt, his hair tied up messily atop his head. Along with the smell of sweat, you can faintly make out the remnants of his cologne and it stirs something deep inside of you.  

Jungkook’s eyes scan over you briefly, offering a small smile as he leans in to peck your cheek, “Hiiii...”

He sings the greeting, patting your hips as he quickly steps into your apartment.  

“Hello,” You sing back, giggling a bit, “Did you guys just now finish up practicing? Didn’t you start at like 7?”

Jungkook winces as he begins slipping off his big clunky boots, leaning back against your front door, “Yeah. I really thought they were trying to kill me- I did the new dance so many times, I lost count.”

Pouting your lips, you take his bag off his shoulder and hang it up on your coat rack.  

“I’m so sorry.” You murmur, shaking your head, “Did they give you tomorrow off at least?”

At this, Jungkook grins, nodding as he does, “Yeah, I was going to ask you what you were doing tomorrow cause I thought maybe you’d want to hang out. Our night was supposed to start a lot earlier...”

He looks regretful and even slightly annoyed.

He’s been having this issue a lot lately where his prior obligations and engagements seem to mean nothing to his directors, which never used to be a big deal but, now that he has you in his life- he never wants to let you down.

“I’m free all day-” You reply happily, before narrowing your eyes at him, “I have one condition though-”

Jungkook looks intrigued, cocking his head as he steps forward, “What’s your condition?”

“I need one of these...” Pointing to your lips, you pucker them and make grabby hands at your boyfriend.

He laughs softly, shaking his head as he closes the space between you, “I just got here and you’re already using kisses as collateral now huh?” His voice gets a little lower and before you can reply, his gently places his lips on yours, sighing out through his nose as his flutter shut.

Once he starts kissing you, you aren’t really able to think of a coherent response. Leaning into him, you hum lightly in your throat, tucking your lips between his.  

However, when you attempt to slide your hand up the exposed skin of his arm, he winces and pulls away.

Groaning, you can’t help but giggle, “I know- I know... ‘babe, I’m too sweaty. Let me just shower really quick and then I’ll promise, I'll kiss you so much better’...”

At your attempt to imitate his voice, Jungkook starts laughing- cute nose scrunched up with delight.

He kisses his teeth, “You know me too well. I’ll be right back.”

Jungkook leans in again and kisses you on the cheek before disappearing into your bathroom moments later

After his showering, he comes out in a baggy t-shirt and some sweats, his hair freshly blow dried and piled up on his head in a messy bun.  

He scarfs down his dinner in record time before the two of you settle back against the couch.  

You can feel him looking at you as you giggle at the TV but he doesn’t let his eyes linger very long. He just kind of stares for a moment before simply tightening his grip around your shoulders. He feels so warm beside you that you seriously wonder how long you’ll be able to stay awake with him being the human equivalent of a weighted blanket.  

When your laughter erupts again, Jungkook leans in to pop a kiss on your check, which broadens your smile that much more. It’s only for a moment before he turns back to the TV, seemingly satisfied with his actions. However, you decide to return the favor and smoosh your lips against his face, eliciting a snicker from his throat.  

You snuggle into him more, grabbing his arm that’s resting on the couch beside you and wrapping it around so that his hand is resting your lap. Leaning your head against his chest, you slowly began tracing over the markings on his skin lightly brushing your nails against each unique line. Jungkook’s eyes are trained on the TV and despite his blank expression, you can see the goosebumps forming on his skin.  

Regardless, you just keep going, allowing your fingertips to trace over the letters adorning his hand. Using your nails, you trace between each of his fingers, before interlocking them your own. Once you’re holding hands, Jungkook squeezes slightly, brushing his thumb along your skin which then prompts you to finally to turn to the side and look at him.  

He grins softly, still not glancing your way but choosing to offer a playful comment instead, “You’re not watching the movie...”

You laugh softly, reaching out with your free hand and tilting his face towards you.

“We’ve watched this movie four times-” You retort, “Besides I’m pretty sure I remember you promising me that you’d kiss me properly once you were out of the shower.”

Jungkook’s grin broadens, his doe-eyes alight with defiance, “I’m pretty sure you promised yourself that for me- I don’t remember agreeing to it.”

You scoff in mock offense, “Damn ok. So it’s like that huh? I buy you ramen and yet this is how I’m treated. I’m calling the UN...”

Jungkook laughs a little harder now, the sound a little sharp but intensely endearing, “It’s that serious for you?”

Pouting, you nod, “It is that serious.” You’re about to say something else before you brush your thumb over his lips and notice the dryness there, “Did you remember to bring your chapstick today?”

He immediately sucks his lips between his teeth and given that his ability to speak is no compromsied he simply nods, his eyes wide with false innocence.

“Mhmmm.” He lies

“No you didn’t!” You exclaim, laughing a bit as you press your thumb against the thin line of his mouth, “Babe, it’s so cold outside- your lips are going to start cracking.”

Unfurling his lips, he lets his head fall back on his shoulders, “I know, I know-” He whines playfully before his head snaps back up to yours, the same glint remaining in his gaze, “You have some right?”

You roll your eyes, “You know that I do.”

He snickers, quickly leaning in to kiss your cheek, “Can I have some then?”

Playfully shoving him off, you rise from the couch and shake your head, “I’m giving you one to keep in your rehearsal bag,” You shuffle over to your bathroom, “You better use it!”

He laughs as he hears your demand echo down the hallway before calling back, “Hurry jagi! They are so dry- I can feel them! They are so close to cracking!”

Seconds later, your hurling one of your many lip balms into his lap which he catches just before it hits him.

“Put it on...” You demand pointedly and he shakes his head.

“I don’t think I can-” He sighs dramatically, holding the lip balm out to you, “You have to do it- all of the moisture in my body is slowly fading away...my lips are trying to suck it all up.”

Giggling, you cross your arms, shaking your head, “That makes absolutely no sense.”

“Y/N! Please!” Jungkook chokes out, “Before I waste away...the winter-” His eyes bug out of his head, as his hand clutches his chest, “the winter jagi- it's going to dry me out completely.”

Finally snapping, you grab the Chapstick out of his hands before asserting yourself into his lap. He laughs, resting his head against the couch cushions whilst his hands sneakily find their way to your hips.

“You’re so annoying...” You grumble, still giggling yourself as he puckers his lips dramatically.

“I’m only following your recommendations.” He insists, making kissy noises at you, “Balm me up baby.”

Uncapping the chapstick, you press your chest against his before starting to drag it over his lips. As you get to work on helping him, his mischievous gaze slowly softens until he’s looking up at you with stars in his eyes. Carefully, you make sure every inch of his mouth is covered with balm, paying special attention to the corners and his lower lip. As you finish up, you put the cap back on set on the couch cushion.

He rubs his lips together, humming in satisfaction.

You smirk, “Better?”

Jungkook nods his Adams’ apple bobbing in his throat as he feels you shift on his hips.  

“Make sure.” He murmurs, puckering his lips, his eyes starting to swim with arousal.

You lean in, unable to refuse him before capturing his mouth in a kiss. Rotating your head, you slowly deepen the connection between your lips, drawing a sigh from the boy beneath you. You can feel his thumbs rub ever so gently against the back of your hips as he leans fully back so that your chest is resting on his.

He nudges your nose, allowing his tongue to brush against the bottom of your top lip, requesting entrance into your mouth. You accept him, licking along his tongue, a shiver running up your spine as he sucks slightly on the top of you.  

Jungkook really is a filthy kisser but you’d never guess by just looking at him.  

He’s quite sure his face is growing numb, his only focus on the way you’re making him feel and a somewhat annoying pain on the back of his head. His ponytail is digging against the wall, causing unnecessary discomfort to wash over him. Still kissing you, he reaches behind his head to pull the hair tie out, allowing his hair to fall freely around his face. You take the opportunity to slide your fingers between the strands, scratching gently at his scalp and causing a slightly shaky breath to leave his lips.  

He loves when you play with his hair.  

You use both hands now to tuck it behind his ear before using them to slide down the length of his arms. Finding his hands on your hips, you lace your fingers with his and bring them back up so they are pinned against either side of his head.  

The making out didn’t get him fully hard but as soon as he feels his hands pinned against the head of the couch, he feels his dick twitch almost painfully in his sweatpants.  

Smirking into his mouth, you delight in the sudden halt to his breathing. Subtly, he pushes his hips up a bit when you start kissing your way down his chin and throat. Jungkook summons all the resolve he has and goes perfectly still when you start placing soft kisses along the expanse of his throat. You feel the ache between your legs worsen when you feel his fingers tightening against yours. Jungkook is a very sensitive person, both emotionally and physically. Over the time you’ve become intimate, you’ve slowly uncovered all the little spots that drive him crazy.  

And you’re determined to kiss every single one.  

“You had a hard day huh?” You murmur sweetly, kissing up the right side of his neck.

All he does is nod, his eyes falling shut as he feels your lips getting closer to his earlobe.  

Placing another kiss at his hairline, you slowly kiss along the bottom half of his ear before capturing it between your teeth.

His breath immediately leaves his lips in a shaky mess, his eyes squeezing together as the grip on your hands tightens.

“I think I should help you relax after you’ve worked so hard don’t you?”

He has no idea what you plan to do to him but, he honestly couldn’t give a fuck.  

He’s too hard, too wound up and too into to you to ask any meaningful questions.  

Jungkook merely nods, not trusting his vocal abilities at the moment as he waits for your next move.  

A smirk comes across your face as you suckle lightly on his earlobe, knowing how much he likes it before using your lips to descend back down his neck.  

You lean away from him to get a closer look at his expression. Smoothed out in pure pleasure but also tightening slightly at the discomfort brought on by his throbbing dick.  

His eyes are still closed as you release your grip on his hands and he keeps them that way even as you move to grip the hem of his t-shirt.  

“Are you falling asleep on me?” You tease and he merely grins, shaking his head.

“Then why are your eyes closed?”

He doesn’t open them and instead allows a breathless bit of laughter to leave his lips, sound almost exasperated.

“I feel dizzy.”

His simple responses elicits another desire within you that intensifies your goal to make him feel good.  

“In a good way?” You check, playfully pinching his stomach as you slowly pull up his t-shirt.

He goes back to nodding, his hands coming down to assist you with your task. His hair flops haphazardly as the material of his shirt messes with it. You take a moment to admire how incredibly beautiful he is when he settles back against the couch, your mouth going dry at the sight of him. Flushed face, pouted lips, defined muscles and hardened nipples lay before you, and you are a little unsure of where to put your lips first.

Although it doesn’t really matter, your destination is the same regardless.  

Deciding on another spot that drives him crazy, you allow your fingers to brush along his ribs before leaning in to kiss over his defined chest. Jungkook’s hands are laying limp against the couch but when he feels your lips nearing his nipple, he turns them so they are able to grip the edge of the couch. Sucking his nipple into your mouth, you let you tongue rub against the peak of it. Jungkook sighs loudly from above you and you can’t help but smirk as he still doesn’t allow himself to moan.  

It’s a quirk you’ve noticed and you feel like it’s likely left over from the long-discarded idea that Jungkook has regarding his masculinity. No matter how often you tell him that making noise is perfectly ok (and really hot) he still waits till he can’t help himself.  

And to be honest, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy pushing him towards that point.  

After you finish kissing his chest, you begin trailing your wet lips down the middle of torso, taking a moment to suck over the soft skin of his not so softly defined stomach.

“All those hours in the gym are really paying off-” You mumble against his skin, brushing your fingers over his abs, “You look so strong...”

At your compliment, his lips part, one side of his mouth turning up in a slight smile.

“I wanna look good for you.”

It’s quite a ridiculous statement really.  

Jungkook would look good no matter how many visible abs he had but you know he likes the praise none the less.  

So you shower him with it.

“You always look good for me.” You assure him, kissing along the band of his sweatpants now, “I’m proud of you for working so hard.”

He grins a little more, leaving his eyes mostly close but allowing them to peak open a bit to watch you sink to your knees.  

“Thank you.”

He swallows back the threat of hyperventilation as he feels you spread his legs, his eyes closing completely once again.  

If you weren’t able to make out the sound of his breath picking up, the movement of us chest certainly would have given it away, his pecks heaving a bit as he tries to relax.  

But as you begin gently massaging up his legs, Jungkook realizes relaxing might not be possible.  

At least not at the moment...

He’s stained the seam of his sweatpants with precum which would upset him if it were any other substance but with his dick being so hard, he really can’t find himself to care about anything else.

Tucking your fingers beneath his sweatpants, you begin tugging them off of his hips, relieved that he isn’t wearing any underwear.

Jungkook takes another deep and shaky breath through his nose, tilting his head back again as he tries to center his thinking.

But you’re kind of driving him insane.  

Starting at his knee, you kiss all the way up his inner thigh, taking in the scent of his body- indescribable and mouthwatering, just like him. You stop just before his dick before repeating your actions along the other leg.  

Jungkook’s stomach is caving in at the teasing but he does absolutely nothing to urge you further.  

He likes the torture.  

“Is there anything you want me to do while I'm down here?”  

Jungkook bites his bottom lip at your question, knowing that you’re going to make him ask for it but feeling shy regardless.

“Yes.” He breathes  

You brush your fingertips over his balls, his hips only slightly twitching at the sensation.

He’s trying to stay calm, not wanting to get so ahead of himself he blows his load before you’ve even started.  

“What is it that you want me to do?” You murmur, leaning in to breathe against his length.

You’re expecting him to stall and use every other word to ask for what he wants but instead, he surprises you.

“Suck on it...” He whispers, taking a deep breath before exhaling on the word, “...please.”

Smirking to yourself, you wrap a hand around him- feeling him throb within your grip before kitten licking over the tip of him. After ridding his dick of all the precum, you decide to end his descent into madness and suck him into your mouth.  

You start slow, licking up and down the length of him, your core aching at the taste. Jungkook’s nails are digging into the couch cushions as he feels your movements, his teeth starting to chew on the inside of his bottom lip.

Bringing your hand into the mix, you guide a flexible grip up and down up, using your lips to suck on the tip of him, your tongue tracing the curves of his frenulum.  

Jungkook’s lips part in awe as he feels the combination of moves on his dick, his toes curling against the shag carpet. He knows that his vision will be swimming but he wants to watch you so badly, he decides to finally open his eyes.  

As he predicted, his vision is spotty and the dizziness he felt earlier is nothing compared to the way he feels now.  

It all becomes irrelevant though when he locks eyes with you. Your boyfriends normally innocent gaze is completely glossed over with lust, his mouth hanging open as he stares down at you, the same smirk slowly returning to his lips.  

Sucking off of him, you use your hand to jerk him off as you address him, “Does it feel good?”

He bites his lip, his face and chest decorated with the flush of arousal as he nods.

“Why are you so quiet then?”  

For whatever reason, your question tickles him and drunken giggle bubbles up past his lips,

“’ss too good.” He explains, shaking his head at you, “I don’t know how to say anything...”

Logically, he understands that you aren’t talking about him necessarily saying anything but more so referring to the lack of noise he’s making. However, he knows very well that he’s going to be moaning for you soon, especially when your mouth returns to his dick a second time.  

When he feels you palm his balls, his eyes fall shut again, his hips twitching all over the place when you resume both sucking and jerking him off.  

Jungkook knows he’s biting his lip really hard when he starts to taste a bit of blood but he doesn’t care, the pleasure he’s experiencing overpowering any semblance of pain.  

“Y/N” He whispers, “I’m getting really close.”

His warning makes you swoon because he sounds so desperate and yet he’s being considerate, not wanting to intrude your mouth with the taste of him.  

Despite the fact that, that’s all you want.  

You merely moan against his length, signaling for him to let go whenever he wants, your speed increasing all the while.  

“Fuck...” He whispers again but the word sounds like it got caught in his throat, “Fuck...fuck...fuck.”

Hearing him swear makes the wet disaster in your shorts much worse but you wanna make him cum so badly, you ignore it completely. The sound of him nearing the edge is enough to take him all the way in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you suck him harder.

Finally, he breaks- a whimpering skipping past his lips, one of his hands coming up to cover his mouth. As much as you want him to moan for you, you don’t want to stop your motions long enough to tell him.  

He throws his head back against the headrest, his eyes opening wide as he stares up at the ceiling in amazement. His body jerks as the first wave of his release hits your tongue and rope after rope, you swallow everything he gives you, sucking him through his orgasm and until the sensitivity becomes too much and he starts squirming beneath you.  

You suck off of him, allowing his softening length to rest against his lower stomach, which is now trembling with his heavy breath.

Jungkook pants, still staring him at the ceiling and while he’s coming down, you kiss along his hips, letting him take his time. Whilst you’re kissing up his happy trail, one of his hands reaches out to brush over your face. Its then you notice that it’s clammy and a bit shaky so, you take a moment to press a kiss over his knuckles, trying to encourage him to look at you.

“You’re shaking.” You whisper and before you know it, you can hear that same drunken giggle coming from his lips again.

Your boyfriend looks down at you, a deep sense of amazement in his eyes as he laughs still, a bit delirious.

“Yeah well-” He shakes his head, still trying to get his wits about him, “You should have a talk with your mouth about that...”

You giggle now, resting your chin on your hand as you admire how fucked-out he looks. His hair is a mess and he is covered in a light layer of sweat and if you’re being honest, you really want to jump his bones all over again. But you know he needs a minute.

“I just wanted to help you relax.” You claim innocently to which he just shakes his head, gesturing for you to get on the couch.

“Come here.”

You scramble up towards him, sitting beside his exhausted body and before you know it, he’s pulling in for a kiss, his smile creeping back when he feels your lips.

“You’re amazing.”

He sounds silly but sincere all at once, kissing softly at your lips before nudging your nose.

You smile back into the kiss, mumbling something of the same nature to him.  

The two of you kiss one another for a moment until Jungkook is pulling back, allowing his dark gaze to scan over your face, eyes suddenly full of determination.

“I think it’s time you relax too now, don’t you think?”

[sukirichi]

OKAY OKAY I ANT HELP IT IM SORRY FOR SPAMMING BUT im a whore so wine: ingredient 18 + sugar 5 + spice 18 for my husband noritoshi

— I KNOW

: noritoshi kamo knows just what to do with you, and it seems there’s a lot more that he’s aware of than he lets on...

: warnings : mature content ahead!

meal order: 🍷 +18 (marriage for convenience au) + 5 (mutual pining) + 18 (disciplining) + thigh riding. your meal has been served! also okay WOW this is my first time writing for husband! noritoshi and im QUAKINGGGG simp for this man SIMP SIMP this man is fine FINE

check my masterlist and bio for my milestone event!

“You’re not holding up your end of the deal, princess,” Noritoshi murmurs in the column of your neck, his deep voice sending shivers down to your core. He snickers at this and runs his hand under your – his – shirt, brows raising when his rough palm makes contact with your bare breast. “No bra?” His fingers flick over a sensitive nipple and you grit your teeth, back arching as you press closer to him. “Hmm, always so responsive…”

“I’m sorry, Nori, I’m sorry, so sorry,” you keep mumbling over and over until you’re grinding on his thigh.

The clothing ratio is absolutely unfair. Noritoshi is still fully clothed, save for the slight exposure of his shoulder blades from when your eager hands ran over it minutes ago, needy and wet just for him.

But you’d been bad. The idea of marriage appalled you because you couldn’t handle the thought of being so committed to someone, but after finding out that your clan leaders planned to marry you to Gojo Satoru out of everyone, you immediately called out to Noritoshi Kamo – a family friend who seemed like he’d be decent enough as a husband.

It turns out he’s also in the same dilemma. His clan leaders also plans on marrying him to a much older woman notorious for mothering several children from different mothers, and he’s afraid of being tied down to a stranger like that.

Which is why you find yourself living under the same roof as him, the tension thick and painfully awkward.

You haven’t seen Noritoshi ever since you were little, and even then, the guy was too reclusive and preferred his books over playing with the other kids. He just has this aura that told everyone they weren’t on the same level as him, and you remember wondering why he shuts himself out like that, until you found out Noritoshi’s just pressured to be the perfect clan head like everyone expects of him.

After both your clans heard of your marriage, they were beyond delighted. In a way, you were too, but it still didn’t change the fact you didn’t know Noritoshi that much.

But it seems that’ll change soon, because you’ve been bratty and lashed out during the clan dinners a few hours ago. They made a degrading comment about Noritoshi about how he wasn’t doing enough as the clan head. Angered, you slammed your fists on the table, defending that Noritoshi’s doing a great job and they should stop breathing down his neck like that.

The moment the table fell silent, you knew you fucked up. Everyone stared at you with wide eyes, and if it wasn’t for Noritoshi’s warm hands brushing against yours with a calm request to sit down, you would’ve absolutely lost it.

“What were you thinking?” Noritoshi begins to kiss your exposed collarbone, breathing in your sweet scent that has him going crazy and hard under his robes. He finds it flabbergasting you’re so innocent, so unaware of your effect on him, walking around every morning wearing his shirt and those skimpy shirts as if you aren’t tempting enough already. After seeing that act you pulled tonight, Noritoshi’s hands roughen a little bit more as he pushes your bra straps to the side, effortlessly unclasping the material before it falls to the side. “You should’ve known better than to displease the elders, princess. Who knows what they’d do to us?”

“I know, I’m so sorry,” you whine out breathily, pushing your hips backward and forwards on his thigh to get some friction.

Noritoshi’s hands have been all over you the moment the clan driver dropped both of you off home. He’s upset – this much you know – and he lets you feel this by pushing you to the wall and slipping in his tongue past your soft lips.

You’re panting and moaning his name, and it’s embarrassing because he hasn’t even touched you there yet. Noritoshi tugs at your top to reveal your breasts and his eyes widen, breath growing shaky for a bit before he leans down, his mouth wrapping around the hardened bud. “No-Nori, gosh,” you moan under him, his arms now trapping both your hands beside your head.

Noritoshi doesn’t stop pleasing you with only his tongue and lips, swirling his tongue all around your nipple until it’s hard and perked just for him. He laps at like a starved man, groaning when your legs wrap around his waist to bring him closer.

“Nori, please, need you – n-need you to fuck me, please.”

“Do you deserve it?” his mouth finally leaves your perky titties, panting at the sight of you laid out open and wanton for him. A small gasp falls from your lips when Noritoshi finally tugs at the knots of his robe, pushing his boxers down to reveal his long length. It seems you’re not the only one who’s flustered and aroused; his cock is red and slapping along his abdomen, the tip flushed and leaking with pre-cum already. “Will you finally learn your lesson if I fuck you good?”

“Yes, yes, fuck yes.”

“Hmm,” Noritoshi taps the tip of his cock to your folds, coating it with your arousal and you’re clenching around nothing. You reach up to grab him by the collar until you’re kissing him again, Noritoshi’s breathy sigh like music to your ears.

He leans forward and enters you in one fluid motion, the sudden stretch making you pull away as you moan left and right. Noritoshi presses his forehead to yours, hands looped around your smaller ones as he gives a small, experimental thrust. Your reaction is immediate. You fall back onto the pillows while your pussy sucks him in like you’re claiming that he belongs inside you and with you only – and you want him, you want him, you want him so bad that you hope he knows it.

“I love you,” you suddenly blurt out, and Noritoshi stills above you for a second. He replaces his silence by slowly gyrating his hips, making his dick rub against your walls, your breasts bouncing and following his slow, sharp yet deep thrusts. “I know it’s too early, but I love you, and I want you so much you won’t get it.”

Noritoshi bites his lips when you suddenly clamp down on him, almost as if prompting him to answer. Sweat forms in your hairline as Noritoshi keeps thrusting into you, his eyes shut close at the feeling of your walls hugging his cock.

You don’t know if your heart is beating a mile a minute because he’s fucking into you so good that your body is shaking and you’re about to see white, blinded by the godly sight of Noritoshi slowly losing his composure of finally being in his wife’s tight little cunt. “I know,” he mumbles with a husky voice, and you moan louder when Noritoshi’s pace only quickens. “I know – because I look at you the same way, and I love you, god, I fucking love you.”

Noritoshi seals your confessions by pounding into you harder, his robes falling into the his elbows and you’re blessed with the sight of his abs glistening with his sweat. His stomach tightens every time he hits your sensitive spot and you’re there under him, gazing up at him lovingly with one of your hands gently buried in his hair.

It’s almost like making love with how he’s worshipping you with his eyes – making you feel like you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever laid his eyes on – but his rough thrusts says otherwise.

“Noritoshi, b-baby, I’m close.”

“I know,” he repeats with such a soft smile that the contrast of his next actions has you gasping and your walls fluttering around him, thighs sore while he splits your pussy open with his cock. “But you’re not cumming without my permission, princess,” Noritoshi’s hands wrap around your neck, squeezing it and cutting off your air supply. Responsive as always, your eyes widen and your fucked out expression only entices him to fuck you into oblivion. “As your husband, I still need to teach my little wife a lesson and discipline her.”

[batfam-rewrites]

Bruce: *walks into the breakfast room with his robe on*

Everyone: *frozen in terror*

Bruce: *notices everyone’s shocked expressions* What’s wrong?

Dick: Why wouldn’t you remember to turn off the intercom in your room Bruce?

Bruce: What...?

Alfred: Seriously, Master Bruce! How could you put us through what just happened? Especially to Damian!

Bruce: What are you guys talking about?

Dick: We heard Bruce.

Harper: *curled up in the fetal position* I took the batteries out but it wouldn’t stop. Why wouldn’t it stop?

Bruce: *realizes what they heard* Oh! How much did you hear?

Duke: Enough Bruce! We heard enough!

Damian: I don’t know if I’ll ever stop hearing it!

Dick: *comforts Damian* It’s okay Damian. 

Damian: Don’t touch me! Don’t! I can’t! No no no no no no no!

Harper: How could you think that was a good idea considering what we just heard?

Helena: Seriously Dick, how?

Dick: How am I the bad guy here?

Selina: *walks into the breakfast room* Good morning! *wraps herself around Bruce, then kisses his neck*

Cullen: Oh dear God!

Jason: No! You don’t get to say that after what we all just heard from your room, you cat-mothering seductress!

Dick: *gags* This is worse than battling Count Vertigo!

Selina: What are you.....

Bruce: I forgot to turn off the intercom.

Selina: Oh no!

Duke: Oh no indeed, Selina!

Selina: *sits down at the table* Look, it’s a natural thing that happens.

Damian: Please stop. 

Selina: You all know that Bruce and I have been having sex, so this shouldn’t have been a surprise.

Jason: *looks down at his eggs and sausage* Well, breakfast is officially ruined now.

Alfred: You will finish your breakfast Master Jason!

Jason: *grabs his fork and stabs the sausage link and lifts it up* Do you really expect me to eat this after hearing them?

Damian: I think I’m going to be sick.

Duke: I agree with Jason. I don’t think it would be possible to finish....

Jason: *shudders*

Duke: ...breakfast after what we just heard.

Bruce: Cassie, you haven’t said a word. Are you okay?

Cassandra:

Bruce: Come on, Cass. Say something.

Cassandra:

Dick: You made her mute again!!!

Selina: I don’t know why this is so scarring? You guys joke about it from time to time.

Alfred: There is a difference between knowing about it and hearing it Ms. Kyle!

Bruce: *places his hands on Selina’s shoulders* Darling, please stop. You’re making this worse for everyone.

Helena: *points at Bruce’s hands* THAT’S NOT HELPING!!!

Bruce: *removes his hands* Look, this is just a small

Jason: *shudders*

Bruce:...accident that in a week or so we’ll all laugh about.

Everyone:

Bruce: What did I say?

Jason: How could you bring up size after such a horrible experience?

Alfred: Just leave. I believe that it is best for us all to eat breakfast alone until this all blows....

Jason: *shudders and hits the table* ALFRED!!!

Alfred: ...over. 

Selina: *to Bruce* Wow, that was harder than you hit me this morning.

Alfred: *looks at Selina* Ms. Kyle, you have already lost first name basis privileges, so unless you want to be kicked out of the mansion for the next two weeks I suggest you keep all comments regarding you and Master Bruce to yourself! And Master Jason, maybe if you spent less time looking at things you shouldn’t be watching on the internet you wouldn’t be so appalled at every word spoken.

Jason: You looked at my computer?

Alfred: I was cleaning your room and you had it wide open on your desk. It would have been difficult not to notice!

Harper: What the fuck, Jason?

Bruce: How could you?

Jason: It was one time and there is nothing wrong with looking at porn!

Damian: *covers his ears* Make it stop! Please make it stop!

Dick: *slams the table* SHUT UP! SHUT UP! EVERYONE JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!

Everyone: *looks at Dick*

Dick: Look, this morning has been a bit too much for us all to handle so let’s just try and finish this amazing breakfast that Alfred made for us and avoid seeing each other for the next 48 hours!

Everyone: *agrees in silence*

Tim and Stephanie: *walks into the breakfast room holding hands*

Tim: Good morning everyone!

Everyone: *tries to eat their breakfast*

Stephanie: What did we miss?

Jason: *drops his fork* That’s it!

Damian: Nope!

Harper: I can't, no!

Cullen: I’m done.

Duke: I’m sorry Alfred but I just can’t eat right now.

Cassandra: *stays frozen in shock*

Jason, Harper, Duke, Cullen, and Damian: *all stand up out of their chairs and exit the breakfast room*

Tim: Okay then. *sits down at the table and fills up his plate*

Stephanie: *sits down next to Tim and starts to fill her plate*

Tim and Stephanie: *starts eating breakfast*

Tim: *sips his coffee* Wow! Alfred, this is by far the best coffee you have ever brewed! *takes another sip* This is so good!

Stephanie: Tim, you have to be exaggerating.

Dick: *covers his ears*

Tim: No, this is really good! The best I’ve ever...

Bruce: TIM! SHUT UP!!!

Tim: Okay. *takes another sip and whispers* Fuck, this feels so good in my throat.

Dick: *stands up* Okay, breakfast is officially dead! I’ll start clearing off the table.

Bruce: *gets up* I’m going to start working.

Stephanie: It’s the weekend.

Bruce: Working! *leaves the breakfast room*

Selina: I’m going to shower. *gets up and leaves the breakfast room*

Helena: *gets up* I’ll go start training. 

Alfred: *gets up* I’ll start cleaning dishes! *gets up and leaves the breakfast room*

Tim and Stephanie: *continue eating*

Stephanie: You know you should really be drinking warm apple cider instead.

Tim: After this second cup.

[hangovercurse]

Falling Like the Stars

Pete and you had gotten in a fight the night before he left for filming, leaving you to pick up the pieces of your relationship.

Request: “pete and you take it to another room at a party 😉”

Pete Davidson x Reader

Warnings: Smut (18+), cursing, angst

A/N: This is (loosely) based off Falling Like the Stars by James Arthur

Word Count: 3038

In all eight months of your relationship with Pete, you’d never gone this long without talking. Your phone was right in front of you, his contact in your favorites. But you couldn’t be the first to fold.

It had been 3 and a half weeks, 25 days, since he left for filming. Since that stupid fight.

Maybe you pushed him too far, maybe you expected too much of him, but you’d been together for eight months. And you knew you loved him. The night before he left, he’d taken you out on the most romantic date you’d ever been on, and when you guys got back to your place, you told him you loved him. And he didn’t say it back.

He didn’t say anything, he just shut down. After you begged him to say something, anything, he just gave you a frustrated, “what do you want me to say?”

And thus, the fight ensued, you accusing him of not caring about your relationship and him yelling at you for pressuring him into something he wasn’t ready for.

And maybe you were in the wrong, but you were hurt. You had put everything on the line for him, every inch of your soul was bare to him. And he crushed it. So, you fought. And he left. And you hadn’t talked since except a text from him saying he landed safely.

It was killing you inside. But you couldn’t keep this going if he wasn’t as invested as you were. So, you left it up to him to make the first move.

In the meantime, you occupied your mind with work, television, and mindless scrolling through social media. Your timeline was filled with pictures of your fans, activism posts, and fan accounts of Pete that you followed. One post in particular caught your eye, a picture you didn’t even know the fans had.

It was a picture you had taken of Pete on your first date, the morning after the two of you had met. The memory made you smile.

You were outside on Colson’s balcony, taking hits of the cigarette in your hand and watching the crowd of drunken partygoers below you.

Suddenly the sliding glass door opened behind you, and the most beautiful man you’d ever seen walked out. His hair was dark, his eyes even darker. He seemed gentle, kind, but also like he could rip you to shreds without hesitation. It was intoxicating.

“Oh,” he said upon seeing you, “sorry I didn’t think anyone would be out here.”

You smiled, “you’re good. I don’t mind the company.” He nodded, coming to lean against the railing next to you. You offered him the cigarette, which he graciously took.

“What’s a girl like you doing up here all by herself?” He asked.

You raised an eyebrow, “a girl like me?” A smirk made its way to your face when he looked over at you, eyes raking over your figure.

“I mean, someone as stunning as you shouldn’t be up here all alone. You should be down there, stealing everyone’s breath.”

His comment made you blush slightly. “It’s a bit too much down there for me. I don’t mind all the people but none of them are gonna remember anything in the morning. I don’t want to be that person. I want to remember tonight.”

This time, his eyebrow raised. “Is tonight a special night for you?” He asked.

You bit your lip, turning to face him fully. “I’m not sure yet. You tell me.”

He moved closer to you, hand delicately touching your waist. You took his hesitancy as a question of permission, to which you responded by reaching a hand to run up his arm, stopping on his shoulder. The man smirked, moving even closer to you.

“I’m Y/N.” You told him quietly.

His head dipped down, lips meeting yours, and you closed your eyes, taking in the sensation. Your mouths moved together in sync as his grip on your waist got tighter, pulling you closer to him. You brought your second hand up to wrap around his neck, lifting yourself up on your toes to get better access to his plush lips.

He pulled away from you slowly as your eyes opened, finding his brown ones exploring your face. “I’m Pete.” He whispered, before connecting your lips again.

His hands squeezed your waist, lifting you up slightly. You took the hint and jumped up, wrapping your legs around his waist as one hand moved up to support your back. He carried you back inside to the bedroom the balcony was attached to.

His mouth never left yours, his tongue lightly swiping against your lip. You granted him access, the feeling of your tongues colliding a pleasurable one, it made you feel even closer to him.

He set you onto the bed, finally detaching your lips. You whined as he stepped towards the door but stopped when his hand turned the lock. He chuckled at your neediness, rushing back to the bed, and climbing on top of you, forcing you to lay back onto the bed.

Your hands went to his hair, tangling your fingers in the strands. His hands traveled your middle, reaching the bottom of your shirt. He paused before pulling it up, making sure it was okay with you that he did so.

Once the fabric was removed to reveal your bra-clad chest, he smirked down at you, taking in your body. Pete let out a soft “wow,” that you probably weren’t supposed to hear.

It made you smirk, your hands removing the jacket from him before pulling his shirt over his head. The tattoos on his chest and arms revealed themselves, and you took a moment to admire them. Absentmindedly, you reached out to trace one on his arm, making him grin. Instead of saying anything, he reconnected your lips.

His bare skin on yours made heat run from every part of your body straight to your core. You could feel him hardening through his jeans, and you wanted nothing more than to rip them off. Pete had a similar idea, hands moving to unclasp your bra and he pulled the fabric from your skin. His hands remained there, massaging the tissue, and occasionally squeezing your hardening nipples with his fingers.

“Fuck you’re so pretty.” He mumbled against your mouth, moving his head down to press a soft kiss to your neck. One kiss turned into two, then three, and suddenly Pete was kissing a path to your breasts.

Once his lips connected with your nipples, you let out a sigh of pleasure. His teeth grazed the bud lightly, switching between each breast to give them both the attention they deserved.

The hands that you had tangled in his hair pulled lightly, nails scratching his skull in a way that drove him crazy. He finally left your chest, pressing sloppy kisses down your stomach until he reached the top of your jeans.

Pausing, he looked up at you. “Do you want this?” He asked, sweetly.

You bit your lip, looking down at him and taking in his slightly disheveled appearance. “Yes, Pete. Please.” You asked, earning a smile from him. His hands unbuttoned your pants, pulling them down your legs slowly before tossing them across the room. He stood up and removed his own pants, leaving only two sets of thin cloth in between your heat and his member.

His face returned to its position at the top of your panties. He lightly nipped at the skin there, causing a small groan to escape your lips. He smirked, grabbing the top of your panties in his teeth, and dragging them downwards, exposing your pussy. He used his hands to help his mouth pull the material all the way down your legs, your panties soon joining the rest of your clothes on the floor somewhere.

You took in a breath when his hands grabbed your thighs, spreading them apart. His breath hit your heat as he looked up at you, basking in the beauty of your expression. He’d barely touched you and you were already putty in his hands.

At this thought he brought his lips to your clit, sucking on the small bundle. At the contact you moaned out softly, hands gripping the sheets below you. His tongue peaked out to lick at your slit, slowly dipping into your heat.

He switched his focus from your slit to your clit and back intermediately, one hand eventually dancing up your thigh to join him. As his lips sucked on your clit his middle finger pressed into your wet hole. Another moan came from you as his long finger stretched you out.

He smiled against you when he heard your sounds as he pumped the digit in and out of you. When he felt you were ready, he added a second finger. Picking up his pace, he started curling his fingers as he pumped, hitting your walls.

You could feel your climax building, but he pulled out before you could get too close. He sat up on his knees, eyes finding yours. You watched as he slowly licked his fingers clean, climbing off the bed and finding his jeans. He grabbed a foil wrapper from one of the pockets and brought it back to the bed. He pulled his underwear down, exposing his long, hard dick.

You moaned at the sight, excited at the thought of him filling you up. He rolled the condom onto his member, pumping himself a few times. He lined himself up with your entrance, watching your face.

“You still want this?” He asked.

You loved how he kept asking, kept making sure this was okay with you. “Yes.” You let out, softly, the anticipation killing you.

At your consent, he pushed into you, slowly. His large cock filled you up, stretching your pussy out. Pete let out a quiet groan as you adjusted to him. His lips found their way to your neck again, hot breath hitting your skin.

He pulled out slowly, pushing back in as he pressed a kiss to your neck. “Fuck you feel so good.” He mumbled into your skin. He thrusted into you again, harder this time. Your hands went to his back, gripping onto him.

Pete started picking up his pace, dick thrusting in and out of you harder every time. Your nails began to dig into his skin, definitely leaving marks. You let out small whimpers every time he hit the perfect spot in your tight pussy.

More kisses were placed on your neck as Pete pounded into you, your hips rolling up to meet his. The vibrations from his moans against your skin made everything feel so much better, and you knew you were getting close.

The feeling of his cock twitching alerted you to the fact that he was close, too. So, you let out a whine, “I’m close, Pete.”

He hummed against your neck, “me too, baby.” He continued to push you closer and closer to your climax, “mmm, feel so good around me princess.”

His lips came up to meet yours, tongue establishing dominance in your mouth. One hand found your breast, rubbing the bud between his fingers. The stimulations sent you closer and closer to the edge, until you could feel yourself at the tipping point.

The only sound in the room was your lips against his and the slapping of your skin as Pete’s cock filled you up more and more. His thrusts got sloppier and sloppier until he moaned against your lips, his hot seed filling the condom inside of you. The sensation sent you into an abyss of bliss, your orgasm crashing over you.

Your hips bucked into his as you came undone, his cock still thrusting into you but much lazier now. The feeling of a thousand pins spread through your body, creating a warm and fuzzy feeling.

Once you had both come down from your highs, he pulled out of you. He disposed of the condom and grabbed his underwear, pulling it on. He then tossed your panties and his shirt over to you, which you gladly put on.

Pete crashed onto the bed beside you, pulling you into his side. You nuzzled into him, taking in his scent of cigarettes, sex, and chocolate. You pressed a kiss to the side of his chest, the closest place your lips could get to. He chuckled, pressing his lips to the side of your head.

“I figured instead of joining the lame ass party downstairs, we could steal this room for the night. Then maybe I can take you to breakfast in the morning?” He asked, watching for your reaction.

You looked up at him, a smile on his face, “I would really, really like that.”

Breakfast was, obviously, successful, as you and Pete went out for dinner the next day, and then two days after that. Eventually he was bringing you to meet his family and you introduced him to your co-workers. It wasn’t until he took you backstage to Saturday Night Live that he officially called you his girlfriend whilst introducing you to Colin Jost and Michael Che, but you had both been exclusively with each other since you’d met.

You frowned, thinking about those memories. God, you missed Pete. You should have never said anything, you should have just let it go. Now you might never get him back.

But every part of you craved him. You wanted him here to hold you and kiss you. You wanted him to buy you stupid gifts like he did sometimes. You wanted to talk about literally nothing but that be enough for you two.

You couldn’t help but let your mind drift to where it would often go to. You and Pete in a few years, buying a house together. Your kids playing in the backyard. Going to sports games and recitals with them, taking them to see Pete at work. Getting married in front of all of your friends and family.

You wanted all of it. You had never wanted that life before you met Pete, but now it was all you could think about. You didn’t know what your future would look like without Pete, and you didn’t want to know.

So, against your vow to yourself, you called him.

“Y/N?” He asked. He sounded tired, sad. Hearing him made you freeze; you’d missed his voice. “Is everything okay?”

You bit your lip before answering, your voice coming out as a whisper, “yeah I just, I just miss you, is all.”

Pete let out a sad sigh on the other end of the phone. “I miss you, too.” He said. “I should’ve called you, I just wanted to give you space. I know we didn’t leave off in a good place.”

You stayed quiet, tears coming to your eyes as you recalled the night again. “It’s okay, Pete. I shouldn’t have thrown that on you and I shouldn’t have pushed you to say… that.” You whispered. “I’m sorry.”

You could tell Pete was thinking because he didn’t answer right away. “No, I- I shouldn’t have left you like that. We should’ve talked about it more.”

You shook your head even though he couldn’t see you, sniffling. “Pete it’s okay, really. I was in the wrong and I pushed you away. I made you leave.”

“Yeah, but I should’ve stayed.” You could hear the sadness in his voice and it broke your heart. He sighed, “princess, give me like five minutes and then we can talk about this more, okay?” You hummed into the receiver and the line went dead.

You sunk further into the couch, tears pouring from your eyes. You felt like you were crumbling into little pieces without him. And now he was avoiding important conversations with you.

You came to the realization that you should’ve made the night he left; he doesn’t want you anymore. The thought made you breakdown even more, your breathing quickening and sobs escaping you as you buried your face into your hands that were covered in the sleeves of Pete’s sweater.

A few minutes later you heard a knock on your door. Even though you were in no state to answer it, you did so anyways. You found your person standing there, shoulders hunched and eyes red. Pete held a teddy bear in one hand and a heart shaped box of chocolates in the other. He looked as good as ever, but also like he hadn’t slept in weeks.

“I was literally pulling onto your street when you called me.” He chuckled as you led him inside. He set the teddy bear and chocolates on your coffee table, pulling you onto the couch next to him. “I couldn’t stand how we left things so I asked for the next few days off so that I could come see you.” He grabbed your hand lacing your fingers together.

“I mean seriously, Y/N. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t even focus on the movie because I was just always thinking about you. It was terrifying.”

You smiled a little bit, scooting closer to him. When you spoke, your voice came out hoarse, “I missed you so much.” You couldn’t believe that he was actually here. That he had flown back to New York just to see you. “I’m sorry I made you leave and didn’t say goodbye.”

He grabbed your chin, pulling your eyes up to meet his. “I’m sorry that I was too scared to tell you how I feel.” You gave him a quizzical look. “I was so fucking scared of admitting it to myself, much less to you. But I know now, I’m sure now.”

“What are you talking about?” You whispered.

He leaned in close to you, breath hitting your lips, “I’m not scared anymore.” He said, pressing his lips to yours in a soft, short kiss. “I’m in love with you, princess.”

Your breath got caught in your throats as the words you’d been aching to hear fell from his lips. You leaned forward, kissing him again. “So fuckin in love with you.” He mumbled.

You rested your forehead against his, breaths intertwining. “I love you, Pete.”

[mrsmaybank]

My Little Sun - Reid x Reader

“Ridiculously perfect.” I held her tighter as she looked up at me and our eyes locked, “I’ve fallen ridiculously in love with you.” “So my evil plan worked then?” She chirped.

CONTENT WARNINGS: AGE GAP, VIOLENCE, KIDNAPPING, PREGNANCY, STALKING, LANGUAGE probably the misuse of a Russian word  IF THERES MORE LMK 

A/N: Okay, let me be honest rq this idea lowk scared me but the words really just fell out of my brain really easily so, yk fuck it whatever.  ANYWAY, if you like, please let me know! 

pt 2, pt 3 “I love you Spencer.” The words immediately melted me. 

“I know so many things.” She gave me an unapproving look. 

“I don’t mean to sound cocky, but I do! Now for once in your life, listen to me.” She nodded her head in concession.

“I’ve just read more, I’ve written more, I’ve discovered and studied more than the average person. I could tell you a little bit about anything with one hundred percent certainty. I could--and want--to tell you the names of all the stars, I could recite verbatim the entirety of Prometheus Bound by Aeschylus or Dostoevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov, which you know, speaking of I will ‘cause I still can’t believe you haven’t read it,” Her smile flattened into a straight line, and I laughed. “Orrr, I could also tell you something simple, like why we get the hiccups.” I shook my head. 

“Regardless, I know so many things and I’m rarely taken by surprise because of it. Everything in life is a pattern of change, and as a human, we will always adjust and adapt to whatever situation we are in. For better or worse, we don’t feel the same thing for very long. This is why an addict takes a couple more every time, a sadist hits his second victim harder than the first, they’re searching for the high of the first time, and it will never come.”

She nodded in understanding, 

 “I know this is true, it’s factual, and yet every time I look at you it feels like the first. You’ve broken the laws of human psychology.” 

“First time you saw me was at a gas station Spencer.” 

“No. The first time I looked at you after I knew I loved you.” 

“Where were we?” 

“My car. You were dancing. You looked ridiculous.” 

“Ridiculously sexy? You mean?” She smiled. 

“Ridiculously perfect.” I held her tighter as she looked up at me and our eyes locked, “I’ve fallen ridiculously in love with you.” 

“So my evil plan worked then?” She chirped.

“It did indeed. You’ve become my solnyshko moyo.”

“Tell me that’s Russian dirty talk.” She said with a grin. 

“It’s better. It’s a term of endearment you’ve become the epitome of.” 

“And what’s that Dr. Reid?” she giggled. 

“My little sun. You’ve become my little sun. Following me around and bringing light and warmth.” She snuggled herself impossibly closer into my chest, wrapping one of her legs over mine. 

“Except for your feet!” I shrieked at her freezing toes meeting mine. 

“They’re not that cold you big baby!” she shouted. 

I laughed and kissed her sweetly, “I am not the baby here.” I said.  

“Please,” she started until I interrupted her with a kiss, “If you’re not the baby,” I kissed her again, “That implies I’M the baby,” Kiss, “And I’m not a” Kiss. 

“Shush baby.” I told her, but like always, she didn’t listen, instead sitting up to straddle me. My appreciation for her beauty was like how a prisoner appreciates freedom, and yet it was miniscule into what I found in her character. It blew my mind that a girl so perfect existed. 

“Rarely do great virtue and beauty dwell together. Francesco Petrarch.” I started, my hands making their way onto her hips, “That makes you a rarity.” 

“You’re spoiling me with nice words today Spencer.” “You’ve spoiled me. My frontal lobe is spoiled milk.” She laughed, wondering how I was going to manage to make this one romantic. 

“That’s the part of the brain responsible for sensibility and logical thinking, and you, little girl, have positively ruined it. You make me stupid.”

“I ruined the genius Dr. Reid with the 187 IQ? Makes sense. I’m like, way smarter.” 

“You are. So, so much smarter.” 

“I want that in writing.” she poked my chest. 

I pulled her down and kissed her forehead to whisper in her ear. “Not a chance.”

She pushed herself away and rolled her eyes at me like a bratty child does her nanny, and I continued, “ You’re smarter, but I’m more educated. I have more doctorates than you have years in university.” 

“Whatever…”

I brushed the hair away from her perfect face, “You tired baby?” 

She sighed and laid down, splaying herself on my chest, laying on me like I was the duvet. “Very.” 

I held her impossibly close, breathing in her scent and counting every time her heart thumped, her bpm said she was relaxed. Oh god, I wanted her like this forever. Relaxed in my arms, where nothing could touch us but each other. 

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“Must you work?” I sent the message to Spencer as I rolled over to his side of the bed in anticipation. I breathed in heavy, liking the way the pillow smelled like his laundry.

“Unfortunately.”  he responded. “Think you’ll be home this weekend?” 

“It’s not looking like it, little one. I’m sorry.” 

I didn’t reply. I was too sad to reply. I knew it’d make him feel guilty, which I didn’t want to do, cause like, his job and saving people and shit is important. But, it still wasn’t fair! At all. There was something very important I had to tell him. 

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Total darkness, and then way too much light. My head hurt and I couldn’t move. I was handcuffed to a wooden chair. There were chains around my torso and ankles. The room was a medical sort of bright. It smelled like bleach and rotting fruit. The walls were dilapidated, seeming to be made of tiles that were once white, but have turned yellow. 

What the FUCK? 

“Hello!” I shouted. My voice was so coarse it hurt. Shit. My head pulsed so badly it practically hurt to think, but I still racked my brain. 

Where am I? 

How’d I get here? 

Why am I here? 

I woke up again. Fuck, why can’t I think? Why can’t I do anything? 

“Hey, y/n.” A woman’s voice. A very stoic, cold, sounding female voice.

I’m not alone. Thank god, oh my god, I’m not alone. 

With the little strength I had, I lifted my head to see her. She wasn’t what I thought. She was alright, she wasn’t tied. She did this to me? 

She took a sip from her silver flask, “Do you know who I am?” 

I shook my head. “No.” 

“Typical.” She stood up and grabbed me by the hair, “You fucking disgust me.” Like, she said, she threw my hair away like it disgusted her. 

She sat back down on the bench in front of the chair I was chained to, “My name is Brook Austen. I was a professor at Georgetown last year. Taught a couple seminars at your school, that little university you go to, the students there were nothing like mine. Not nearly as intelligent, but as expected, Georgetown is much more prestigious, obviously.”

I was confused, and she knew, but did not care. 

“You’re not the brightest, y/n. Only slightly above average high school grades, strikingly mediocre academic performance now.”

Where the hell is she going with this? 

“And you know it doesn’t surprise me, per say, because every man on this goddamn planet is a piece of fucking shit! But I thought that, maybe, just maybe, Spencer was different.” 

She grimaced, “I thought he’d want more than just a pretty face! ‘Cause you might be prettier y/n, but I’m smarter.” Her words were laced with utter hatred. 

Her demeanor changed, and it almost started to seem like she was talking to herself. “I'm older. I’m more successful. I’m fucking better.” 

She approached me again, grabbing my face so I was looking her in those scarily light green eyes, and she wrapped her hands around my throat.  “I’m fucking better then you! Better, better, better!” Every time she said better she shook my neck and gripped tighter so I couldn’t breathe. 

“Stop! Please! Please stop!” I shouted, “I’m-I’m pregnant!” 

She began to break down, “You’re pregnant?” A maniacal chuckle left her throat, “You’re pregnant?”  

“Is it Spencer’s?” she asked. 

I nodded. 

“Wow.” She laughed once more, “Fucking wow.” 

“How could Spencer choose this!? You’re nothing like him. You are a pathetic fucking college student. A fucking daddy issue ridden slut! I’m a celebrated academic, just like him!” Tears began to slip from her eyes, “How could he not choose me?”

This woman is NOT well in the head. 

“You--you like Spencer?” I asked. 

“You don’t get to ask the fuckin’ questions here.” She pulled a knife out of her pocket and held it to the tip of my chin, “I do. So you’re gonna answer them.” Or, she started manically laughing, “I’ll kill you.” She swallowed, “And your baby.” 

I screamed at those words, “No,” I sobbed, “NO!” 

I turned my head away so I didn’t have to look at the woman in front of me, there was a timed red dot blinking. A camera. 

“Is that-- is that a camera?” 

She nodded, “I want Spencer to see you and his child die.” 

“He….No! No, please, No!” I choked on a sob and she smiled. 

“He doesn’t know.” She paced, “He doesn’t even fucking know!” 

She waltzed over to the camera and brought it closer to us, “Hey Spencer.” She began waving, “Hey Penelope. Aaron. Derek. Jennifer. Emily.” 

Her demeanor changed once more, into that of a cheerleader of all things, “So, quick recap.” Brook pursed her lips, “Spencer your twenty three year old fucktoy is pregnant. Congrats!” 

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Y/N was two things I didn’t know she was this morning: In serious danger, and the mother of my expected child. I felt frozen in trepidation. 

We all watched in horror as Brook greeted us. All by first name. She knew exactly what she was doing and it freaked me out even more. 

“Reid, you need to step out.” Hotch grabbed my shoulder, “Now.” 

I was sick with fear and ill with rage. I sat down because I could feel my knees go weak. Hotch started again, “We know who she is. We will find her. Y/N will be alright.” He paused, “So will the baby.” 

I replayed the events of the live footage in my head, her screams of pain and terror, her trembles and confusion. I’d failed her. I’d failed her and now I knew I’d also failed our child. 

JJ sat down next to me, “Spencer, when did you meet Brook?” 

“I uh,” I wiped my face, “A year and four months ago. I did uh, I taught uh, I taught a string of seminars at Georgetown. It was biweekly. Her office was next to mine. We spoke for the first time when she offered me a coffee.” 

“What did you say?” 

“What do you think I said?” 

“Yes.” 

“Yeah, I said yeah, I fucking like coffee.” I felt instantaneously guilty for cursing, and especially at JJ but I was too frazzled for it to last long enough to apologize. 

“I know Spence, I’m sorry. Just keep going.” 

“Then, the next week, we got lunch together.” 

“Was it, you know, friendly?” 

“What are you implying Jennifer?” I snapped. 

“No Spence, we just need to know. You know that.” 

“It was-- it was just lunch. A very normal colleague to colleague lunch. We talked about the school’s history. And uh, where we grew up. It was small talk.” 

“Ok, was this the last time you spoke to her?” 

“No. There was one more time. Y/N was there.” 

“Tell me about it Spence.” She grabbed my hand, 

I breathed out, “It was the next week I taught after lunch. About two hours before my class. I was lesson planning, and Y/N was doing homework on my desk. She came in. She asked if I wanted to go get lunch. She saw y/n and--Fuck.” 

“What Spence? What?” 

“She asked me who she was, but it was like, she didn’t want y/n to know she was asking. She thought she was…”

“She thought she was what?” 

“A student.” 

“And what did you tell her?”  

“The truth. That she was my girlfriend.” 

“Did you see her anywhere else after that?”

“No. She never came by my office again. When I would see her by chance, she would scurry away. It was strange.” 

“Think really hard Spence. Did you ever see her again after you stopped teaching at Georgetown.”

I racked my brain, “Yeah. I did. It was two months ago. Three days after I proposed to y/n. She was getting a coffee at this coffee shop by y/n’s school.. I was bringing her some lunch” 

“Spencer she's been stalking you. Your proposal was the stressor.” 

“But--I’m a profiler. I would’ve noticed.” I stood up with a realization.            “What Spence?” JJ asked, standing up as well to look at me. 

“She’s been stalking her, not me. She knew I was a part of the BAU, she knew I would’ve noticed.” 

“I’ll tell the team.” 

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A/N2:  If this doesn’t totally flop, I’ll write PT 2, that elaborates on the reader’s and Spencer’s relationship. I think through flashbacks from both Y/N and Spencer would be a cool way to explore their relationship and of course the whole reader being kidnapped thing plot could develop. Again, if you enjoyed this pls let me know!!

[aenaxes]

congrats on 200 my dear!!! i’m so happy i found your writing and look forward to being better friends!!! anywho, the celebration must commence! 🍾 🎉💕 ily!!

for requests, i gotta go w my main man, my first clone love, the darling hardcase (i swear he doesn’t get enough love) 💕 we’re both touch starved adhd fools who love a little too much sometimes and i just wanna smother him w my 🐱 in all the affection he deserves. if you’re up for it, maybe some soft smut for your local bottom? 🥺 i’ve been wanting to get a tattoo that matches his facial markings and wonder how he’d react to seeing it during a gentle moment between the two of you. my pronouns are she/they & i’m 5’6, and i have dark green hair + blue eyes.

you and me & me and you

[hardcase x afab!reader] there is little permanence, and all of them are fleeting, in a war that tips its scales with each new dawn. so while hardcase is away, you decide you’ll carve out your own constant between you and him, and him and you.

warnings: tattoos, unprotected vaginal sex, mushy gooey feelings pt.2

w/c: 2.8k

a/n: my love for hardcase grows day by day, and every day i wake up and cry a little bit because he isn’t real. but it's ok bc ily jj and you're very much real 💕

Seldom do you find Hardcase stunned into complete silence.

Stillness shared between you and Hardcase, rare as those moments may be, is never truly silent. Tackling each other onto the couch, stealing late-night speeder joyrides, sharing the kind of banter that doubles you over so hard your ribs sting for hours afterwards—the energy, the light, linger in the spaces left behind.

But this time, Hardcase simply stares, jaw slack and eyes wide as your fingers curl over the lifted hem of your shirt. No wisecrack quip, no teasing wink, not even so much as a low whistle as you tug your shirt over your head and drop it behind you, straddling his lap over the edge of the bed.

Eyes full of stars, he gawks.

“You—those’re my—hm, okay, wow, uh, hah—” Hardcase’s voice pitches high as his lips open and close around half-formed words.

You watch the whole spectacle as he gasps like a landed fish, grasping for wisps of coherence. And you can’t help the giggle that rises from your throat when he forgoes words entirely and trails off into a breathless half-whimper half-laugh.

“Can I—” he says at last, and his voice cracks hoarse through his sputtering attempt to regain what little composure he had. “Can I touch it?”

At your nod, Hardcase reaches forwards just enough that his fingertips barely brush over your chest. You don’t dare look down to where his calloused fingers meet the skin above your ribs, too afraid that if you take your eyes from Hardcase’s face for even a single heartbeat that you might miss a precious moment of the awestruck wonder in his expression. You find yourself as transfixed as he as you watch him trace the trio of royal blue ink arcing down your sternum and tapering off into twin circles that cradle the curve of your chest.

It’s what this whole evening has been leading up to—your grand reveal kickstarted by his signature lung-crushing hug on the hangar bay. You had braced for it harder than usual when he’d swept you into his arms and lifted you off the dusty platform steel, readying for the particularly bruising ache that comes with the week-old ink needled over the base of your ribs.

To be fair, it wasn’t possible to greet Hardcase without creating some sort of commotion. Even if it was just shy of a week on planetside escort duty, once the gunship was within a metre of the dusty landing bay durasteel, landing protocols be damned, Hardcase would hit the ground running, tossing his helmet behind him and swooping you into his arms. The sheer, unadulterated joy of reunion always found home in how he squeezed you around your middle and spun you about; it was always worth the solid smack over the back of his head (stern, from Rex and, gleefully, from Jesse) for throwing his bucket aside.

But when you had met him with more of a pained grunt than your usual tittering exclamation, Hardcase had dropped you so quickly you’d almost fallen backwards if not for his reflexes to steady you. When he’d stumbled over wide-eyed apologies (and braced past Jesse’s open-palmed whap over his head), you had only laughed and told him to wait until after you had run inventory with Rex.

His fingers finally pause their slow trace over the tattoo on your chest. He feels, sees himself, an emblem on your skin. And when he looks up, he sees you.

“Tats are sore for a bit, ‘Case,” you smile. His eyes are so wide you’re certain if you look just a little more, you’d see yourself in him. You and he, he and you, the same, the same, one. “‘s why I flinched a little.”

Hardcase’s lips open and part around soundless words a few more times, still floating in some limbo between processing disbelief and boundless excitement before he unevenly clears his throat and finally speaks.

“You—you got me inked on you?” Hardcase whispers. Each word has the corners of his lips curling higher as if he had to speak into realization what stood before him; as if his fingertips pressing tender divots into your skin were proof only of the flesh: a universal truth that only needed words to find home in his heart.

You nod, grinning.

“Wanted to have a part of you with me for while you’re away.”

And for a moment, Hardcase’s fingers are the only motion in a still room, stroking soft, repetitive motions over the blue ink of your—his—tattoo.

You silently brace for something loud and present, excited rambling, another crushing hug, affection swept wide and open before you. Instead, Hardcase lets free a single breathless huff and tugs you close.

“You know those are forever, right?” he laughs, his voice rising again.

“That’s why I got it,” you respond, and his laughter only grows brighter.

Hardcase buries his nose into your chest with a groan, and that precious crest of joy bursts over your tongue when you throw your head back and laugh. Gilded and honeyed light finds home in your chest.

“Mesh’la, I need you so bad right now,” Hardcase groans as he brings his arms snug around your waist. And his laughter joins yours this time, voices swelling together when Hardcase rests his brow against your skin and pulls you in close. You make quick work of the rest of your clothes, throwing them somewhere off to the bedside before you sit back down over the firm lines of his thighs.

“I mean, yeah, I sure hope so—was the whole point ‘Case,” you tease, and Hardcase groans, carrying something of breathless disbelief and affection and desire curled into a single whimpering sound.

And as soon as you’re squeezing over his shoulders, suddenly, you feel your gravity tilt, and you yelp as your back connects with the bedspread.

Hardcase cages you under him, one arm propped by your head as the other slips from beneath the small of your back and trails its way back to the centre of your chest, hovering just at the edges of your tattoo. He lingers, treading those shallow waters for a moment more. But where you expect the familiar drag of his blunt nails over the bold lines of blue ink, he dips low. Instead, you gasp when his fingers are replaced by his lips, warm, inviting, home as he presses a single, lingering kiss over the sigil branded into your skin.

“‘Case!” you giggle and kick out your legs at the sudden flick of his tongue over your chest. You feel him laugh into your skin, his breath wisping over where his lips just brush over the edges of the tattoo.

He ghosts one more touch, drawn long and yet chaste in how he nuzzles the tip of his nose into your chest. And the bubbling laughter of before wanes, complete, when he lifts his chin and meets you with the hushed whispers of a smile on his parted lips.

Because it’s him, finding home over the base of your ribs.

It’s him, reflected back into his wide eyes.

It’s you.

He doesn’t surge up to meet you. He doesn’t kiss you with that unabashed brilliance that crushes your lips together so hard your teeth clack. The breath catches in your throat as you watch him move in silence. There is no overexuberant joy when Hardcase shifts higher up on the bed to meet your eyes and slowly runs his thumb over your lower lip. Even then, his touch is so achingly still, deliberation held close and savored slow.

He blinks once, dark eyes full of the soft light only privy to early mornings and late nights when you curl close and bask in each other, bared and whole. You grant his request without hesitation.

Starting low, your fingers smooth over the faded lines of blue tattooed over Hardcase’s chin, the same sigils you keep as your own. Well worn and faded until the line between ink and skin disappeared entirely, the tattoos beneath your fingertips are nothing and everything like yours. You trace higher, following the crest of his lip, the high line of his cheekbone, the dip just beneath his eye where his tattoo begins anew.

He closes his eyes and lets your touch trail over his lashes until your fingers slope over his temple and still over the base of his head. And when he dips his head low, you meet him in the middle, catching his upper lip between yours as he slips one hand between you and thumbs over your tattoo. That touch anchors you as much as you think it must do the same for him, pulling you close and keeping you there while you lick over his lips and breathe him in deep.

Through the warmth heavy in your gut, you feel him slide his other hand down your side, over the contour of your hip, and lift your leg up against him. You hook your leg over the small of his back and tug awkwardly, sending him stumbling forwards, crushing his hand between your chests as he dips down and narrowly catches himself.

No amount of awkward maneuvering breaks the rosy air between you, even as you both tear away from each other to stifle the kind of laughter that lingers.

“This okay?” he murmurs over the waning sigh of a low chuckle, voice warm on your skin and drunk with your taste. He nudges his hips forward, sending a shiver shocking up your spine when you feel his cock brush up against the swell of your cunt.

“Always, Hardcase,” you whisper.

As soon as the words leave your lips, you barely have enough time to suck in another breath before you’re stuttering on your own tongue. The tension slumps out of your shoulders as Hardcase digs his fingertips into your thigh and presses forwards, stretching you out around him in the way only he knows how, setting fire to your nerves and coming home all at once.

No matter how many times you kneel before ritual—habit coming to you as natural and comforting as breath itself—you still find yourself slack-jawed and starry-eyed as Hardcase pushes into you.

That it’s the first time in his four month tour that he’s able to pull you apart and hold you together only makes it better.

It takes all of one long, shuddering exhale for him to push into you in full. The breath you share breaks that stillness, a gasping inhale as his hips connect with the soft curve of your thighs and has the blunt head of his cock nudging so deep in you that you swear you feel the pulse at the base of your ribs, right where your tattoo swells with your whimpering.

Hardcase drops forward with a groan, blindly twining his fingers with yours and leaning down to press his forehead close against yours.

You don’t have to open your eyes to see him as you squeeze his hand. The bridge of his nose flush against yours, you bask, exchanging the warmth of breath over the little space between your lips. With his brow pressed into yours, he surrounds you, warmth, warmth, warmth, a setting sun and the grass it kisses still glowing in its wake. He rolls his hips forwards and swallows your wailing moan with his tongue.

Hardcase starts slow, setting a pace that has you feeling every long drag inside you as he draws back then crushes back up against the soft spot inside you that curls your toes. It’s a far cry from the excitement of a welcome back or rendezvous reunion, swapping giddy haste to savor instead, to melt over his tongue as Hardcase slips his free arm under your hips and tugs you impossibly close.

Through the blissed-out tears beaded over your lashes, you can just make out his expression, tense with cresting pleasure, as he leans back and admires you, stretched out before him. And when your legs jerk this time, there is no achingly deep pressure of his cock heavy inside you—only his lips over the centre of your chest as he bows low and kisses your tattoo again, again, laying and sealing claim above the rapid flutter of your heart.

You squeeze his hand, and he lifts his chin to meet your hazy eyes with his own, full with intent, desire, the kind of loyalty transcendent above anything he could ever swear to his generals, to his cause. He squeezes back.

You drop your head back onto the bed when he picks up his pace again, moving his free hand out from under you to stroke his thumb over your clit and smearing the mess of your arousal and his precome over where you stretch around him. Chest heaving, you can only sob and grip tight around his neck as he leans back over you and nuzzles his nose into your collar.

It’s getting harder and harder to tell your breaths apart from his after one stuttering thrust gives way to another. The steady tenderness of before bows under the fizzling heat in your stomach, giving in to rawer need as Hardcase’s movements over your clit fumble erratic. He snaps his hips against yours and drives up hard against your pleasure, mumbling unknowable words under his breath. Desperate for more, you shift back to meet what thrusts you can.

When he leans forwards again, his brow unsteadily knocks against your nose before he can nuzzle over your forehead and press close. You might have laughed, taken the moment to catch your breath over the clumsiness of affections swelling high. But you’re too busy chasing your own pleasure, too enamored with the wet friction of his throbbing cock sliding into your cunt.

Hardcase comes first, thundering rigid through him as he buries his nose at the juncture of your neck and bites down over his own teeth, his jaw flexing against your skin. His tension spreads through you, holds you by your breath and seizes the mounting want in your stomach tight with each heavy spurt of come he grinds into you.

You nose up against his temple—a silent plea for touch even deeper than you already feel it—and he indulges you. Hazy in the aftershocks of his orgasm, Hardcase lifts his head from your collar and crushes his lips against yours. He breathes in your heaving exhales as he kisses you, all open-mouthed warmth coaxing your pleasure.

“So lucky,” Hardcase mumbles, his puffing exhales over your lips matching every thrust into your dripping cunt. “Maker, I’m so fuckin’ lucky.”

Before you can strain some half-hearted tease in response, you’re too delirious on your rousing high. All you can manage is a soundless cry that shocks straight to the white-hot heat welled low in your stomach. Hardcase rolls his calloused thumb over your clit one last time and pulls your orgasm heady and low beneath him.

Pleasure bursts over your tongue, thrumming through you hard enough you swear you black out. Nothing but paralyzing and indulgent sensation shocks through you. There is only Hardcase’s presence to anchor you to the moment in the most intimate signs of life: shared breath, fingers laced tight with yours, lips mouthing words that need neither name nor sound to find warmth at the bottom of your chest.

And when the moment subsides and the ringing in your ears fades, you open your eyes to him, glowing with exhaustion but beaming down on you all the same.

“Maker’s really lookin’ out for me,” Hardcase says at last, brushing his fingertips over the sweat beaded at your temple.

“Yeah?”

You tug him closer against your chest (as well as you can with the tremble in your arms). He follows your lead as you feel him softening inside you, and he settles his nose close over your tattoo, just beneath your beating heart.

“I mean, whatever it is, it got me you.”

“You got me you, ‘Case,” you say. Though the air between you is far from the kind of existential solemnity that demands silence, your attempt to laugh comes only as a soft whisper, hushed as your lips brush over the crown of his head.

Because whatever was up there, pulling those galactic tides and willing life into the universe, even if it had tied those fine red strings strong and true between you and the man curled around you, it didn’t matter. At the end of the day, it was you and him, brought together in a headfirst collision in the cold steel halls of a Jedi cruiser and bound tight over shy planetside advances and cheesy dates.

“Then I got you, and you got me?” Hardcase chuckles, lifting his head and meeting your fond gaze.

“Just us,” you laugh.

Hardcase makes a soft noise of affirmation, his arms pulling snug around your middle. He nuzzles close skin over skin, and when he kisses over your tattoo, the sting of ink and needles fades into a distant memory unknown—all worth the trembling touches he presses over the place you’ve carved out for him alone.

Maybe the Maker helped along the way, but it’s always been you and him, him and you.

[helpistolethesecharacters]

Accidentally on Purpose

Gray Fullbuster x Male Reader

Word Count: 1417

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Y/n sighed for the eighth time that morning. He was regretting ever deciding to take up magic. His family had pressured him into learning fire magic when he was younger. They had wanted him to be able to join a guild and make enough money to live comfortably, and while there was nothing wrong with the sentiment, it hadn't been what Y/n had wanted to do.

In fact, it had been nothing but trouble since then. As a fire wizard his body temperature was naturally higher than other peoples, which made it difficult to pursue his dreams.

Y/n had been to see a performance by figure skaters with a friend when he had been about to start his magic training, and from the first moment the performers had stepped out onto the ice he had been gone. It was just so beautiful. The movements of the skaters, the ambience of the arena and the awe of the crowd had taken hold of his heart and never let go.

So here he was, sitting on the stands at his local rink listening to his coach tell him for the umpteenth time that he had to either find a way to control his magic and body temperature or find another career.

"It just isn't sustainable. The harder you practice, the hotter your body gets. It's getting to the point that the ice isn't safe to be on. There has to be a way to keep your body temperature down. If there isn't, well, maybe think about joining a wizards guild and doing that instead."

His coach stood up with a sigh.

"Think on it over the weekend, okay?"

Y/n let out a heavy breath and sat back. He had no idea what he could do to fix this. He didn't want to work as a wizard. All he wanted to do was skate. He wanted to bring a little beauty and art to other people with his movement out on the ice.

Eventually the pitying looks from his friends at the rink got to be too much for Y/n and he gathered his things and left.

-------

The communication lacrima that the skaters each had in order to keep in contact lit up on Y/n's bedside table. He groaned as he was woken by the glow. Who would think it was a good idea to wake him up in the middle of the night?

He activated it with a glare and bit out a particularly terse response.

"What!"

"Wow, nice."

Y/n glared his bleary eyes at the lacrima. One of his friends came into view slowly as his vision cleared.

"Why are you calling me so late?"

"Nice. You should be nicer. I might not tell you the idea I had."

Y/n could tell that his friend wanted him to take the hint and ask him, but he was feeling tired and very sorry for himself after the talk with his coach that afternoon. He had come to the awful conclusion that he would have to give up on that particular dream, so to be woken up at stupid o'clock by one of his friends who wasn't going to have to give up skating, well, Y/n wasn't feeling very charitable just then.

"Good."

He closed down the connection and rolled back over to go back to sleep.

His friend was not giving up apparently, because the lacrima lit up once again.

Y/n rolled back toward it and activated it with a vicious swear.

"Just tell me what you want so I can wallow in my misery properly!"

He could see his friend shaking his head at him.

"I figured out how to solve your problem. We'll just hire an ice wizard."

Y/n stopped glaring.

"What?"

"We'll just hire an ice wizard to come in and keep the ice in tact while you're practicing. There have to be lots out there, and if you pay them enough they probably won't mind. Not to mention, there isn't any fighting or danger involved, so that's a plus!"

Y/n sat there, mind entirely blank. Why hadn't he thought of that?

His friend gave him the biggest smirk he had ever seen before.

"You're welcome!"

-----------

Gray was confused. When he had gotten to the guild that morning he had expected to have to sit around waiting for the rest of their team to show up before having to do anything. He and Natsu would fight, get yelled at by Erza, and then, finally, decide on a job and head out to wherever it was that they needed to go.

That had not happened. He had gotten to the guild and immediately been called over to the bar by their Master, Makarov.

"Gray my boy!"

"Hey Gramps, what's up?"

"There's a job that's been posted that would be perfect for you."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes, it specifically needs an ice wizard to solve their problem. I think it's something you should look into."

"Uh, alright then."

And just like that, he had been heading out to a job that he hadn't even thought to read about first. Gramps had told him the location and he had just headed out, no questions asked.

He was regretting it now, however. He was standing in the building that had been on the piece of paper that Makarov had handed him, which was notably not the job request.

Gray was starting to wish he had asked for the original job request, because he had no idea what he was supposed to be doing at an ice rink. He had a sneaking suspicion that Gramps had been drunk, or maybe he was pulling a prank on him by sending an ice wizard to an ice rink.

"Hi! Can I help you with something?"

Gray turned toward the person talking to him and took in the uniform they were wearing.

'Huh, she must work here. Maybe she knows what's going on.'

"Uh, yeah. Did you happen to request an ice wizard for something? Or know who might have?"

Her eyes lit up with understanding, and, Gray was disconcerted to notice, a little mischief.

"No, I don't think it was anyone on the staff, but I might know who would have. Follow me."

They walked out of the reception area and into the stands looking out over the rink.

The girl Gray was following headed over to a couple of people sitting in the stands.

"Did someone order an ice wizard?"

Gray was sure nothing good could come from that tone.

The two people sitting down turned to them as one, and Gray was hit with the sudden realisation that he might be in trouble. One of them was gorgeous. He had y/c/h hair and the most amazing y/e/c eyes.

Gray swallowed.

'Well, that was unexpected.'

He had gotten through jobs with people who were attractive before and he knew he would have to do it again after this, so he shoved those thoughts to the back of his head.

Gray tore his eyes off the first guy and glanced at the other one. He was giving the first guy a particularly smug look before turning to meet Gray's gaze.

"Hi, I'm Sam, and this is Y/n. We asked for an ice wizard specifically because of him. He's a fire wizard, which is messing with his ability to practice his skating. So basically, what we need is to borrow your abilities for a few hours a day while he practices for the next week. We are working on a longer term fix, but in the mean time, we only have one more week until the qualifying events start."

Gray looked at the other guy. He could sense the heat coming off of him so it made sense that he was a fire wizard.

"Man, that must suck if it affects your skating so much."

Y/n snorted.

"Yeah, no kidding."

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

The first day had gone really well, Y/n reflected silently. Whatever it was that Gray had done to fix his ice-melting problem, it seemed to have held while Y/n was practicing.

He was sitting on one of the benches, working his skates off when he felt someones presence nearby. Y/n looked up briefly and met the curious eyes of his friend.

"What?"

"You where hotter today."

Y/n couldn't help it. He blushed.

His friend burst out laughing.

"Oh that poor guy! He's having to work harder than you already needed him to just because you have a crush on him!"

"Shut UP!"

[1kook]

netflix & chill

summary If you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality. warnings grinding, 2 seconds of sub kook, oral (f), cum eating, vanilla but [ passionate ], unprotected sex, dirty talk tags use of the oldest trick in the book (“your hands are sooo big”), shy oblivious AND gentleman jk? pick a struggle, brief ment of app developer kook, evil and conniving oc wc 10.2k !! wow!!

will I ever write a serious jk fic? NO. this entire thing was based off this pic of jungkook which i’ve said before that i would print out in sepia filter and crumple and stuff in a drawer n then tell my kids 35 years from now was a long lost lover i met on a cruise to the bahamas and never saw again ty to mia more @daechwlta​ for being there during my brief crisis over this fic 🥺

When Namjoon had first not so subtly mentioned the idea of setting you up on a date, it was with a faux air of disinterest that you had masterfully pried the details out of him. Namjoon has a friend, he said, a friend who was kinda sorta attached to his hip. And while Namjoon loved the kid, he also thought this friend could use some social interaction outside of Namjoon.

Now you and Namjoon weren’t exactly the most conventional of friends for him to be proposing blind dates to you at whim. He was your senior at school, your mentor in your scholarship program, an educated man studying for his masters. So when he’d first uttered the words you were immediately on the fence. Sure, the two of you knew each other well and probably got along better than most mentor-mentee pairings among your year, but you doubt Namjoon knew enough of your tastes to offer you up for a blind date.

According to Namjoon, his friend was a kid in the same year as you, making him not so much as a kid as he was your classmate. You brushed it off at first, spewing some bullshit excuse that you’d rather focus on your studies, and how dating was a distraction to your education, as if you hadn’t spent the weekend prior binge watching some Spanish novella while you dutifully ignored your essay.

The second time Namjoon mentions it you agree on the spot. Life on campus could only be interesting for so long, so you might as well make the best of it and go on as many stupid dates as possible.

Namjoon is over the moon.

He tells you he’ll pass your phone number on over to that friend of his—“Jeon Jungkook”—and promises you you won’t regret this because his friend was amazing, really. And for Namjoon to sing his praises for just any underclassmen was unheard of. In fact, besides you, you don’t think Namjoon knows many other students younger than him, and if he did, you hardly doubt he would regard them so highly.

So he gives his friend your number, and so ends your weekly meeting with your mentor. You only realize on the walk back to your dorm that you forgot to ask him about some club at school, the whole goal of this week’s meeting, but by then you don’t really care, the whole conversation fading into the background.

In fact, you forget about the whole ordeal until Friday night rolls around and you’re once again, binge watching another novella on your laptop, when your phone suddenly vibrates.

You were by no means a loser at school, a friendless nobody, but you were also not the outgoing, school-spirited student on the front page of your school’s website, and thus had nearly every app that could produce a notification on your phone muted, every text thread silenced. The only notifications and messages you allowed were from your email and from your roommate, and considering the fact Doyeon was face down in a puddle of her own mid-semester tears right across from you, it was probably your email.

Much to your surprises, it isn’t that “Monday’s Class is CANCELLED” email you were hoping for, but instead some unknown number in a text notification. You roll your eyes, click it open thinking it’s a reminder from some store or from some guy claiming to be from your bank, only to pause at the words written inside the little grey bubble.

hey its jungkook!!! joon gave me your number to I guess ask you on a date soo are you free tmrw night??

The excessive punctuation reminds you a little bit of your kid sister back home and the dorky emails she’ll send you from time to time. It’s with that memory and a smile on your face, that you’re suddenly reminded of what exactly this message is saying. “Oh shit,” you mumble, moving to sit up and reread the text. Doyeon complaining loudly in the background has you reading it twice more before you understand it, and by then there’s a fluttery feeling in your chest.

You were by no means easily swayed by people, but this guy had received praise from Kim Namjoon of all people, so he definitely had some prestige to his name. He doesn’t seem overbearing from this one text he’d sent, but he also didn’t seem completely disinterested.  

You try to match his nonchalant energy, letting him know you were in fact free and down to meet him, just to let you know more details.

You won’t lie, there’s a giddy feeling bubbling within you at the prospect of getting all dolled up, hitting the town, pawning a free meal off some unsuspecting college soul, and maybe even hitting it off. It’s been a while since you’ve dated, sue you.

Jeon Jungkook’s response crushes those dreams as well as hurdles you straight into a nightmare.

cool!! was thinking i could cook for us at my place, drink a little wine, maybe Netflix and chill a little bit??

You are blown away by the absolute gall of this man, to butter you up by painting a pretty picture only to reduce you to a mere booty call. The fact he had felt confident enough to say all that within the same sentence blows your mind.

Did this Jeon Jungkook, who you had no idea of what he looked like, who had no idea of what you looked like, seriously just invite you over for some quote unquote Netflix and chill?

Who, in the ever living hell, was this guy who so sleazily invited women over to fuck with no qualms about who they were?

You’re offended that Namjoon would set you up like this, pawn you off to such a greasy friend. But then again, you guess not everyone knows their friends thoroughly, because this Jeon Jungkook flirtatiously inviting your over for some sex sounds nothing like the golden boy Kim Namjoon had raved about earlier this week. You click your phone off, tapping the device against your lips as you ponder how to best rip this jerk to shreds via text.

It’s amidst Doyeon cursing out her statistics teacher that an idea hits you.

Tomorrow was Saturday night, and as far as you knew, you really didn’t have anything else going on for you anyway. You’d take Jeon Jungkook’s offer, let him cook you a free meal and drink some of his wine. He mentioned having his own place, and vaguely you remember Namjoon saying he lived alone, hence his introverted tendencies, so you could slip in and out without doing that walk of shame through a boy’s dorm hall.

Not that there would be anything to feel shameful about. In fact, if you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality.

Ha! That would certainly teach the asshole not to use his poor, unsuspecting friends to reel in nice girls like you into one night stands.

You could practically feel the devil horns begging to poke out of your skull, the forked tail wiggling behind you, as you click your phone back on and text Jeon Jungkook a great!! what’s your address :)

——

Saturday morning and afternoon are as boring as they usually are. You do a little homework, and spend thirty minutes filling Doyeon in on your master plan, which she eats up and even gives you some pointers—“and then you can be like, ‘you sick freak, as if I’d let you near this 5-star, Michelin reviewed, Gordon Ramsey approved coochie’ and throw the whole plate at his head!”—before getting ready for your little date at Jeon Jungkook’s.

You try hard to look good, harder than you would have if he hadn’t offended you by reducing you to a booty call, and Doyeon helps. She does your eyebrows all nice and natural, dusts the thinnest shin of liquid highlighter across the high points of your face, the whole shebang until you’re looking like a sexy, glowing goddess. You shimmy into a pretty dress, nothing too fancy nor too casual, and even pull on those strappy sandals you’d bought on sale last winter before blowing a kiss to Doyeon and meeting your Uber downstairs.

You don’t quite remember what the reason behind Jeon Jungkook living in such a swanky neighborhood a few minutes from campus was, if it was from a job you vaguely recall Namjoon mentioning, or if it was just purely hereditary, but his place is nice. It’s a connected townhouse, something you’d expect a newly wed couple to live in and not some douchebag third year.

Worse comes to worse, you get banned from this rich neighborhood after humiliating one of its residents in his own home, not that you’d ever make it big enough to live here anyway.

You’d texted Namjoon sometime that morning to let him know you were meeting his friend, an ominous text with an even more ominous smiley face attached to it. But it seems Namjoon is easily blinded by underclassmen he trusts, if Jeon Jungkook’s assholish feats and your own suspicious behavior is anything to go by, because he texts you back a polite have fun! he’s a little shy, so it might take a while for the ball to start rolling hahahaha.

Shy my ass, you think closing the door of your Uber behind you. You double check the address that had been texted to you, walking up to the neat townhouse and knocking against the polished door.

It’s a little chilly, and you hope finding an Uber is easier later tonight when you make your grand escape. It’s between these thoughts that the door swings open, revealing the most handsome man you’ve ever met.

He’s attractive, disgustingly so, with dark hair and light brown tips to contrast, tickling his cheekbones. His dark eyes are round and imploring as they meet yours, gaze almost innocent and doe like as he takes you in. He’s got this soft, blue turtleneck on, and it looks like it should be a seasonal sweater reserved for the holidays but he pulls it off nicely on this premature spring night. His pretty pink lips move, and it takes you a second to realize he’s talking.

“___?” He says, and his voice is deep, yet soft in its own unique way. You nod, like a stupid bobble head, because your throat constricted the moment this beautiful angel opened the door. “It’s cold outside, come in!” He urges you, out stretching his palm to make sure you don’t trip over the slight step up the door as he brings you into his home.

“Hi,” he exhales when you’re finally inside, standing a little too close to you in his small entryway.

“Hi,” you finally choke out, a little dazed by how handsome he is, and the sudden realization that you’re supposed to throw your glass of wine at him tonight because he’s a douchebag dawns on you. You blink yourself out of your stupor, taking a step back and gesturing towards your sandal clad feet.

“Oh!” Jeon Jungkook exclaims at the sudden realization. “I forgot to set out a pair of slippers for you,” he sheepishly admits, before he excuses himself to go get some. There’s a tiny ottoman pushed against the wall, beneath a long mirror, that you take a seat on it, carefully unstrapping your sandals.

All the while, you’re deep in thought.

It makes sense that someone like Jeon Jungkook was so forward in inviting you over for sex during your first interaction. Realistically speaking, the guy had it all. He lived alone in a swanky townhouse in a wealthy neighborhood (you finally remember Namjoon saying he did some app developing for major companies—yeah, still in college but already making it big because he was that good), and looked like the blueprint for the perfect man, someone who’d impress your parents. On top of that, the man was was a 21st century Adonis. You hadn’t missed the flash of ink on his knuckles, or the way his jeans had hugged his legs.

He’s making his way back now, inspecting the slippers in his hands, and you don’t miss the way the jeans are pulled taut around his thighs in particular.

Yeah, he definitely knew his way around a woman’s body, there was no way he couldn’t have.

You slip your feet into the slippers he places before you, wiggling your toes around, before glancing back at Jungkook. He smiles warmly, a little beauty mark beneath his lip making itself known. He takes your hand, pulls you up onto your feet, and begins guiding you down the hall and to what you assume is the kitchen.

“I didn’t know what you liked, and I figured asking you three hours before you came over would be too awkward,” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. He glances at you again, and upon seeing your inquisitive stare, quickly turns away with flushed cheeks.

Oh this man knew the game, and he knew it well.

Jeon Jungkook still thinks he can play that cute campus boy being set up by his senior card now, after he’d shown you his true colors last night via text. But he has a big storm coming. As much as you could admit he was good to look at, you would not be fooled by some pretty face and tasty food. No, you came here with one goal and one goal only, and that was to give Jeon Jungkook a piece of his own two-faced medicine before running off to tattle to Namjoon.

You reach the kitchen and the heavenly smell of Alfredo sauce swarms your nostrils. “I… I’m still new to cooking, so I hope you don’t mind some Alfredo pasta,” he admits, shy smile adorning his features as he avoids your gaze once again to toy with the dish towel by the sink.

You creep closer to the counter, where two meticulously presented ceramic plates sit beside a wine bottle, and the glands in your mouth suddenly go into overdrive in their rush to make you salivate, and you choke out an overly eager, “it looks amazing!” before you know it.

Okay, you came here with two goals.

——

Jungkook carries the two bowls in his big hands to the dining room beside the kitchen, and you follow behind with the bottle of wine and two glasses as you set the table together. The utensils are already there, but Jungkook runs back into the kitchen anyway to return with some fancy cloth napkins for the two of you.

Just as you're tugging a chair out to sit, Jungkook beats you to it. “Ah, let me,” he smiles, and your heart thunders nervously in your chest as you return the expression, brushing your hands beneath you before sitting down and letting him push you in. Jungkook takes his own seat in front of you, and before you can dig in he calls out to seemingly nobody, “Alexa, dim the dining room lights.”

The overhead lights dim, and with their overbearing glow gone, you can finally appreciate the battery powered candles snuggled neatly into a little bowl on the table between you two. You ooh appreciatively, and Jungkook looks proud of himself.

Then, he says, “Alexa, play…Date Night Playlist.”

You blink, and a soft piano tune begins filtering through a speaker he’s hidden somewhere in the room. Even with the fake candles being your main source of light, the flush on Jungkook’s cheeks is evident as he gestures towards you to eat.

You won’t lie. Jeon Jungkook was extremely endearing.

This much becomes evident the further you get into the meal. As small talk devolves into full fledged conversations and story telling, his shy demeanor slipping away but still sticking to the edges of his personality, you begin to have a more difficult time connecting this Jungkook to the one who had less than 24 hours ago asked you to come over and “Netflix and chill” with him.

But the more you speak, the more distant that image begins to feel. For one, Jungkook does put on a fairly reserved aura for you, telling you about his job but refusing to brag about it even when you egg him on. He has no qualms gassing up his friends, Namjoon in particular, who Jungkook claims is his role model for some unknown reason, given the fact they are neither in the same major nor in any of the same clubs. They’re friends, point blank period, but Namjoon is very obviously a star in Jungkook’s eyes.

Additionally, he’s quite embarrassed to admit why Namjoon had been so set on getting Jungkook to date, but eventually tells you it’s because Jungkook’s last girlfriend had been during your freshman year—two whole years ago! It makes you wonder what he’d been doing since then, if he’d used the time to fully invest in his work or if he’d been mingling around, unbeknownst to his friends, which would explain the flirtatious offer that landed you here.

Still, a part of you refuses to believe last night’s Jungkook and tonight’s Jungkook were one in the same, and if they were, what had made this shy man so unabashedly invite you over for some sex. Was this act all a ploy? Or maybe, was he purposefully trying to ward you away by coming off as a gentleman now that he’d seen your face and wasn’t interested in you anymore?

Apparently it’s neither of the two, and you don’t realize this until you finish your meal and make your way into his living room to finally get down to the long awaited Netflix and chilling. It’s only when you sit down on the couch, smack dab in the middle, because at this point, you’re not gonna throw your wine at Jeon Jungkook like you planned, he was too nice. And if this niceness was an act to get in your panties, you didn’t care at this point. He was hot, achingly so, and at least you’d get a good fuck out of it.

But as you said, apparently not. Because Jeon Jungkook sees you purposefully take up the entire middle of the couch, sultry eyes staring him down, and decides to sit flush against the armrest, somehow leaving a good foot between the two of you, despite the fact you’re sitting next to each other.

Your brain can’t work fast enough to comprehend the situation, before he’s asking you what you want to watch. “Um,” you say, pointedly staring at him and not the screen. “Tr-Transformers?”

The way Jungkook’s eyes light up is insane, already round eyes nearly popping out of their sockets as he eagerly rushes to select it from whatever streaming service he has, probably not even Netflix, all the while chattering on about how much he loves that series, and is so glad you do too.

The whole time, you’re struck by the oddness of his casual tone, the way he’s overly invested in the 20th Century Fox opening, and how he’s very carefully avoiding intruding in on your personal space.

The last point in particular has you wanting to pull your hair out, because you want Jeon Jungkook intruding in on your personal space. You want him pressed so tightly against you you can’t breathe, you can’t move, until you’re drowning in him as he finally lives up to his promise of some Netflix and chill, because you want him, and you want him so. very. bad.

“Oh, I forgot the popcorn!” Jungkook exclaims, and you jump at the sudden volume of his voice, because he’d been pretty silent as he avidly watched the first few minutes of the movie. “Sorry,” he chuckles, and his leg brushes against yours as he shuffles between you and the coffee table on his way out. You vaguely hear the popping of the popcorn in the kitchen, but you’re too distracted by your suddenly overwhelming thoughts.

Okay, one thing was for sure, and that was that Jeon Jungkook definitely had no fucking idea what the phrase Netflix and chill meant, because the way he’d zeroed in on the movie and the popcorn, and not you, was unheard of on such invitations. You deduce he probably heard it somewhere, and, now understanding the true nature of Jungkook’s sweet and shy personality, made no such perverted connection to the phrase.

Which meant he most definitely did not demean you to a mere booty call, like you’d deluded yourself into believing, someone he could hump and dump with no regrets, before calling Namjoon up to thank him. Which meant he’d had no ulterior motives in meeting you tonight, just planning to get to know you at the suggestion of his friend, and had—unbeknownst to him—successfully wooed you thus far.

Which was great! If you turned a blind eye to the evil, conniving plans you’d made without even meeting the guy, and the subsequent flood of self-inflicted disapproval when you realized Jeon Jungkook was a sweetheart who definitely did not deserve having a glass of wine thrown at his face after making you a home cooked meal and giving you the full Olive Garden experience, with his dimmed lights and candlelit dinner and piano music on the background.

Yeah. Perfectly fine.

The only problem now was that you had become so dangerously smitten with the man that you wanted to sleep with him. You wanted that Netflix and chill, needed it like it was the last slot in a daycare class and you were a soccer mom of five wanting to get at least one kid out of the house for the summer for the sake of her own sanity. You were desperate.

No, you scold yourself. This was fine, this was good, this was perfectly okay. If anything, this just further made you enamored with Jungkook, because it proved how gentlemanly he was by not trying to sleep with you on the first date.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t want to, the devil on your shoulder crooned.

The microwave in the kitchen stops, and you hear the sound of cabinets opening as Jungkook pours the popcorn into a bowl. On screen, the main character is meeting a bunch of giant cars-turned-robots, you don’t fucking know.

But the devil was right.

Jungkook hadn’t offered to sleep with you, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to. Furthermore, that didn’t mean he couldn’t be seduced into wanting to, your evil brain suggested, and the hope that had slithered it’s way into your chest from the very moment Jungkook had opened the door, took that fact and ran with it.

“What’d I miss?” Jungkook says when he returns, popcorn bowl in hand.

“Oh, um, he was with the car,” you offer, trying to stop the nefarious smirk from slipping onto your features. Jungkook laughs, cute and airy as he shuffles past you.

He’s too absorbed in the screen, not looking as he sits down, closer than last time until his thigh brushes yours and he jerks back in embarrassment. “Oh, sorry,” he flounders, goes to move away but you act fast.

You grab onto his upper arm with both of yours like an octopus, keeping him flush to you as you gaze up at him with wide eyes. “No, it’s okay,” you rush to assure him, loosening your hold as he tentatively relaxes beside you. You glance down at the popcorn bowl in his hand, swiping a piece to pop between your lips. “It’s easier for us this way,” you say, and you’re pulling that straight out of your ass, because you hate popcorn and have literally zero desire for it and wouldn’t have reached for it anyway if you weren’t trying to convince him this was all for popcorn sharing purposes.

Jungkook’s eyes briefly flicker down to where you’re munching on that popcorn, your lips, before he’s quickly averting his gaze. “Ah, y-yeah,” he agrees, and though he tries to relax back into the couch, you can still feel the tension of his muscles as he settles beside you.

With his eyes no longer trained on you, you snuggle closer into his side resting your cheek against the soft material covering his shoulder, finally letting that devious smirk slip onto your face. You keep yourself close to Jungkook, loving the way his warmth permeates the thick sweater he’s wearing, even if he’s still overly into the movie. You know he’s seen it before, because he keeps telling you random tidbits like, “they use this in the next movie!” Or “he ends up becoming really important in the sixth movie,” and you want to listen to this endearing nerd’s commentary, you really do, but once your brain is stuck on horny, it is stuck on horny.

He doesn’t even eat a lot of popcorn, setting it down not ten minutes later onto the coffee table. You release him as he moves forward, but quickly latch onto him again when he sits back down.

Much to your surprise, Jungkook is way more relaxed then, shrugging you off to rest his hand on the couch behind you, and you inwardly squeal at the prospect of getting to cuddle up to his body, and not just his arm. You cuddle in close to him, leaving your slippers on the ground as you tuck your legs up onto the couch cushions.

Jungkook is so warm and firm, and you know it’s your horny brain speaking, but you swear you feel a tight set of abs underneath the palm you rest on his stomach, and you give an experimental brush over the area. His heart picks up, you hear it by where your head is leaning against his chest, and you tilt your head up to give him a curious glance. His cheeks are red, and he doesn’t look at you even though you know he sees you, so you decide to kick things up a notch.

You sigh loudly, peeling yourself away from him to properly level him with a pout. “Jungkook, aren’t you hot in this?” You ask, pinching the wooly material between two fingers and pulling it from his skin. Jungkook finally looks away from the screen, nibbling his lower lip as he takes in your quizzical expression.

“Um, only a little… but it’s fine!” He rushes to say, and you recall from your conversations over dinner that Jungkook doesn’t much like people fussing over him, so you quickly change gears.

You press a hand against your cheek, the same one that had been resting against his shoulder earlier. “Oh, well… it’s really itchy,” you announce, and his eyes widen, one hand absentmindedly reaching to clutch the material at his chest. “It’s making me really itchy,” you emphasize, and part of you feels bad for taking advantage of his caring nature, but this is all for the greater good, you convince yourself. “Do you mind taking it off?”

“I, uh, yeah,” he agrees, reaching for the hem of his sweater before carefully peeling it off. When he pulls it over his head, you can’t help the triumphant grin that overtakes your face, though you quickly mask it when he finally frees himself from the material. “Better?” He says once he’s clad in only a plain black shirt.

“Mm, much,” you sigh, and nearly soak your panties then and there when a tattooed sleeve comes into view. “Woah!” You exclaim, snatching his wrists up to examine his skin. “What’s this?” You marvel, tracing every inch of delicious skin with your predatory gaze. Jungkook huffs out a laugh, and you glance up to watch as he rubs the back of his neck in that same embarrassed way he’d done multiple times throughout your night together.

“My tattoos,” he says, and then seems to realize the simplicity of his statement and rushes to add to it, “I hope you don’t mind?”

You hum, shifting onto your knees to face him as you continue tracing over a huge tiger lily by his forearm. “Why would I? It’s your body,” you say, and watch the nervous glance melt off his face as he regards you with something new. Something akin to wonder as he lets you trace over more of his ink, nodding along to your words.

“Yeah… yeah!” He agrees, and you grin at his sudden zeal. He chuckles, physically relaxing beneath your touch, and it’s probably the most relaxed he’s been all night as you continue rubbing your hands over every tattoo on his skin, and then purposefully focusing on the ones near his bicep. “Sorry, ‘m just used to people pushing off their own opinions about them onto me,” he explains, and for a moment, the horniness that had been fueling you all night fades away, and you let your hands trail down, past his wrist, until you’re sandwiching his hand between yours.

“Fuck what anyone else thinks,” you tell him, eyes hard as you imagine anyone imposing their stupid thoughts on Jungkook, who was too good for this world. “If you think they’re cool, then they're the coolest thing in the world.”

He smiles at you, and you’ve seen this smile about a million times tonight—when you first came in, when you talked about yourself at dinner, when you mentioned this stupid movie—but it has something swelling in your chest. Something too intimate for a first date, so you quickly move to repress it.

Glancing down at his hand in yours, littered with smaller tattoos across his knuckles, your brain whirls into action. Bringing it up between the two of you, you turn his hand over to line your palms up. “Wow, your hands are so big,” you sigh, slowly reverting back to dirty thoughts as you twist yours and Jungkook’s hands this way and that. He snorts, bends the tips of his fingers over yours just to hear you ooooh again.

“Yeah, they’re pretty big,” he agrees, completely ignoring the film playing on the screen, which is a huge win in your eyes considering how deeply he’d been watching it earlier.

Finally, you see an opening and pounce.

“Well, that means something else is pretty big too,” you murmur, chancing a glance up at his face. His face is the perfect definition of composed, and you can tell when exactly he processes your words because those little pink lips part in surprise, red slowly filling the apples of his cheeks. You let go of his palm, letting it slide between your fingers until it falls limp beside him.

Jungkook watches you with wide eyes, as you raise yourself up onto your knees. “Jungkook?” You mumble, giving him no warning before you’re throwing a leg across his lap, knees pressed into the couch on either side of his thighs.

“Y-Yes?” He stutters, brown hair falling away from his face as he stares up at you. You flash him a sweet smile, and you can tell it relaxes him because his fists unclench beside him.

“You’re a really nice boy,” you sigh, and when you’ve scooted your knees a little closer to his ridiculously thin waist, you finally let yourself sit. You find yourself right before his crotch, which he desperately tries to hide as he shifts around, but can’t with you on top of him. You let your hands flutter to rest at his shoulders, and he gulps. “You’re so sweet and cute,” you add, relish in the flush that climbs up to his ears. “But I’m a little sad you invited me over to Netflix and chill, but won’t do just that,” you pout, a finger tangling itself in a soft strand at the back of his head.

“Huh?” He stutters, eyes nearly bulging out when you wiggle around again. “I-I’m sorry?” He huffs, and when you move too close to his crotch, where his jeans are slowly growing more and more strained, he panics and reaches a hand out to steady your waist.

You feign confusion, flashing him another pout as you duck closer until your noses bump against each other. “You know what it means, don’t you, Jungkook?” You inquire, eyes falling dangerously lidded as you swallow up every inch of his appearances.

He stutters, hands moving up and down as if he doesn’t know where to put them anymore. But you know exactly where Jungkook can put those hands, and you waste no time catching his wrists in your hands to guide him towards your hips. “No?” He breathes, fingers flexing against you, and you smile sweetly at him.

“It means,” you purr, shifting forward until you’re flush against where you need him most. You can barely contain the whimper that climbs out of your throat when you finally feel the rough material of his jeans against your panties. “It means you wanna fuck, Jungkook,” you exhale, tossing your head back as your body basks in the slight reprieve, the way Jungkook squirms beneath you aiding greatly in providing that sensation you craved.

“It’s nothing more than an excuse,” you huff, placing a hand on the back of his neck to steady yourself. At your touch, Jungkook jolts, thighs jumping beneath you and you stifle another groan when the zipper of his jeans prods against your core. “For you to fuck my brains out while some s-stupid movie plays in the background.”

You’re not sure when, but sometime during that last explanation your hands had fully delved into the thick tresses of Jungkook’s hair. You give an experimental tug, and poor Jungkook, so lost in all that you’re telling him, lolls his head back for you easily until the long expanse of his neck is available, soft creamy skin yours for the taking.

You pounce, kissing the skin gently at first, before sprinkling in a handful of nibbles. He’s sensitive, devastatingly so, as he gasps at a particular suck. You suction your lips on the spot below his ear, carefully biting down on the skin as he unravels beneath you. “Will you do it, Jungkookie?” You murmur against the shell of his ear,

He nods eagerly, and his fingers hurt where he’s pressed them deep into your waist, like he’s trying to brand you as his with his mere strength alone. “Y-Yes,” he exhales, hips jerking when you swipe your tongue over the pretty mark you’d left on his perfect skin.

You smother your smirk against his neck, grinding down on him once again. “Yes what?” You tease, and let his strong hands roll you against him afterwards.

“Yes, I-I’ll…” he stumbles, eyes dazed as he watches you through hooded lids. You raise a brow at him, shifting in his lap. It’s enough to kickstart him back up, and he’s biting down on his lip hard enough to draw blood. “I’ll fuck you, I’ll fuck you just like you want,” he rambles. He surprises you when he begins rutting up against you, so animalistic and uncontrolled, nothing like the sweet Jungkook that had indulged you over dinner. “I’ll make you come, p-promise,” he rasps.

You smirk down at him, hoping he doesn’t see the metaphorical horns sticking out of your head the further he falls into your trap. Before he can say anything else, you surge forward, slotting your mouths together for the first time that night.

It’s no surprise that Jungkook kisses just like he speaks, carefully like he’s afraid one hard press of his lips will ward you off. His lips are smooth, a fact you’d hyper-fixated on all night as he spoke, but before you can ponder on that any further, something hot and wet is prodding at your lower lip.

The gasp you barely manage to contain ends up escaping anyway when Jungkook’s hand comes up to cup the side of your face, tilting your head to the side as his tongue slithers into your mouth. You become obsessed with the way he touches you, every bit the gentlemen he’d been all night, fingers just barely pressing into your cheek like he doesn’t want to mess up your makeup. His other hand, snuggly wrapped around your waist, pulls you tighter against him until your chests are pressed together.

And that tongue. That tongue of his that leaves no room for argument, quickly shutting down any attempts of yours to overtake him. He’s graceful about it too, one nudge enough to convince you he’s got this, he’ll take care of you. You whimper, a sound Jungkook swallows before he’s biting down on your lower lip.

When he pulls away, his lips are red and glossy, and you wonder if yours are too. “Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he sighs, gazing at you like he can’t believe you’re there in front of him.

Before you can say anything else, he’s burying his face in the crook of your neck to brush kisses over your skin. “Let me eat you out,” he begs, but his voice is so silky and smooth that it doesn’t sound so much as a plea as much as it does a suggestion. He licks a stripe up your neck, and you jump in his hold.

It’s at this moment where the sudden realization hits you, the feeling of having the reins yanked out of your hands. You so vividly controlled every aspect of Jungkook just a few moments ago, when you’d had your own mouth on his neck, and carefully coaxed him into some sex.

But it seems Jeon Jungkook isn’t as soft or as pliable as you had dubbed him to be, and if the way he’s begun subtly rolling your hips into his crotch is any sign, he certainly wasn’t the submissive type either. Which leaves you wondering, exactly what type of person was Jungkook in bed?

Well, you had all night to figure that out.

“Hey,” he whines suddenly, ripping you out of your thoughts. You glance down at him, registering the bored set of his eyes and the unimpressed quirk of his lips. “Pay attention to me.”

You blink, lips twitching. You can barely muffle the giggle that tears itself from your throat, leaning your forehead on his shoulder as your body shakes at his suddenly childish words. Jungkook chuckles too, as if suddenly realizing how out of place his own statement was. “Sorry,” he smiles, cheeks pleasantly rosy and you can’t even stop yourself from kissing him silly.

Jungkook, bless his heart, let’s you rain down a good three kisses on him before he’s pushing you down on the couch beside him. There’s still a slight gleam in his eyes, but the rest of his face schools itself into a hungry expression as he drinks in your body laid out before him. “Let me eat you out?” He asks again, voice but a soft whisper.

You nod, heart beating loudly in your chest as he shuffles down until he can press a kiss to the tops of your thighs. He hasn’t even done anything that intense yet, but you already feel the muscles in your leg ready to spasm just from his proximity.

He’s mouthing at your skin, nudging your legs apart, and you, usually so confident in your sexuality, can’t find the courage to look at him as he so lovingly carries out his ministrations.

As if sensing your sudden bout of shyness (you! shy! Doyeon was gonna tease you about this for the rest of your life once you recapped this for her), he places a soft kiss just below where the hem of your dress begins, before pulling back and uttering, “this okay?”

You hum in response, face warm from just imagining how good he must look down there, peppering your skin with kisses. Your heart nearly rips itself out of your chest when a strong set of fingers wraps around your wrist suddenly, sliding over and around your hand until he’s tangled them with yours.

At this, you nearly break your neck trying to look at him, only to be met with an amused smile. Jungkook gives your hand a squeeze, and you barely get to appreciate the schoolgirl flood of emotions in your chest, when suddenly his free hand comes out of left field, cupping the back of your knee to push your legs further apart, before gliding across the expanse of your thigh to push your dress up.

If Jungkook holding your hand was enough to make your heart skip a beat, Jungkook pressing a chaste kiss to your panty-clad mound was enough to send you into cardiac arrest. Your leg twitches at the sudden touch, a gasp catching in your throat at the delicate path he kisses over your panties, until he’s flicking his tongue over your clit. “Oh,” you moan, and against your better judgment, your free hand is tangling itself in his silky strands.

Jungkook smirks, what sounds like a tiny chuckle muffled as he continues mouthing along your sex, until your panties are soaked both from your arousal and his saliva. Your little thong stares him in the face, and he groans at the sight, glancing up at you with those wide eyes of his like you’re his entire world. “Can I?”

Jungkook gives your clit one final kiss, before he lets go of your hand, and you can’t help the whine that leaves you upon the lost contact. Jungkook eats it up, pressing a kiss turned smile against your knee as he tugs your underwear down. It coils up as it goes, until he’s pulling a tightly twisted maroon thong off your ankles, and tossing it off somewhere behind him.

If his mouth felt good through your panties, it feels even better without. You mewl when he brushes his lips over your clit, plush lips working your sensitive bundle of nerves, sly tongue occasionally creeping out to toy with you further. “Jungkook,” you cry out, back arching. He licks and slurps likes he’s a starved man, and you're the first meal he’s ever had. You want to sob from how good it feels, his tongue flicking over your bud like he just can’t get enough.

He pulls away to catch your gaze, doesn’t let it go as he runs a lone finger over your slit, coating the digit in your own arousal, before carefully plunging it into your warm, wet heat. “Is this good?” He rasps out, watching your facial expressions carefully as he wiggles his finger deeper into your core, his other hand wrapped around your thigh to keep you still. You moan, feeling like a boneless heap of organs beneath this insanely handsome man who can’t keep his hands off your quivering pussy.

His fingers don’t let up, slowly pulling out before plunging back in. The room fills with disgustingly wet sounds, but that fact drifts to the back of your head the faster his fingers go. Your eyes roll into your head, your body twitching with each press of his fingers.

“Is it good, pretty?” He repeats, and since you’re not looking at him anymore, the sudden lick against your clit has your back arching and your thighs quivering with surprise. “Tell me it’s good, ___,” Jungkook croons, and you nod in a hurry.

“It’s good!” You cry, moaning loudly when he slips another finger into you, scissoring the two inside of you. “It’s so good, Jungkook—y-you’re so good,” you moan, and nearly cry actual tears when he curls his fingers inside of you, pressing down against the most sensitive spot within you.

Jungkook doesn’t let up, continues licking and slurping against your sensitive bud, even when your orgasm hits and you’re begging him to stop. He doesn’t let you go until he feels the warmth coat his fingers, feels the wetness begging to seep out of your plugged pussy. He lets you go then, only to move closer to your hole and replace his fingers with his mouth. There, he carefully catches and collects the cum that trickles out, mouth warm against your trembling body.

Your body quivers with each long drag of his tongue over your sensitive cunt, and you’re about to ask him to stop, when he finally pulls away and pushes himself over you, arms caging you in as he stares down at your withered form. “Kiss,” you manage to gasp out, and Jungkook raises an eyebrow in question. “Kiss me,” you repeat, and then, thoughtfully, “please.”

Jungkook complies, leans down to connect your mouths in a sweet kiss. You’re blinded by the delicacy of it all, that you in no way see coming the sudden substance that slides down your throat from his own. You choke at the sudden intrusion, belatedly realizing it’s your cum he’s pushing down your throat, the cum he didn’t swallow.

“That’s it, pretty,” Jungkook croons, licking up the residual come that hadn’t made it into your mouth. “See how you taste for me. Isn’t it sweet?” He murmurs, pushing his tongue into your mouth as if he regretted not saving any for himself. It’s the first time you’ve had your own pleasure in your mouth, so you’re not exactly sure how to feel. What you do feel is the overwhelming surge of arousal at seeing Jungkook rave about it and lap it up inside your own mouth.

He kisses you for a few moments, mouth moving languidly along yours. One hand reaches down to rub soothingly at your inner thigh, like he’s coaxing the feeling back into your body after lulling you into one of the most heavenly orgasms of your entire life. You whimper when he bites down on your lower lip, like you’re still too sensitive to reciprocate, but Jungkook doesn’t mind. He lets you go, licks over where he’d bitten like an apology.

After a few minutes of just this, of feeling like the most cherished girl in the entire world, Jungkook finally pulls away and levels you with a dashing smile. “All good?” He asks, hands still trailing up your waist until they’re framing the swell of your breasts, where he gently circles your nipple.

You nod, dazedly staring up at him and it’s at this exact moment that you realize there’s something stiff poking at your hip. You glance down, and Jungkook glances down with you, until you’re both staring at the hard on he’s hiding beneath his jeans. Jungkook chuckles, low and dark by your ear as he experimentally presses it against you.

Before you can stop yourself, your hand is untangling itself from around his shoulders and slithering down his front. You cup his erection, his shaky exhale giving you the courage to toy with his belt buckle until it’s undone and you're battling with the button on his jeans instead. You put up a good fight, but in the end the angle is too tight for you to properly undo it, and Jungkook brushes your hands away with a soft kiss to your lips.

He pushes himself off you, and you’re immediately craving the warm press of his body against yours the second he’s gone. “Get that dress off for me, pretty girl,” he says, pulling his shirt over his head, rendering you completely speechless as you gawk at his body. Jungkook glances down at you as he goes to undo his pants, a shapely brow raising in your direction and a soft quirk of his lips gesturing for you to do as you’re told.

You spur into action, wiggling the dress up and over your breasts until you’re pulling it over your head and letting it drop beside you on the floor. You’re just in time to see Jungkook push his jeans down his hips, a classic black Calvin Klein underwear band glaring back at you.

The chance to marvel at Jungkook’s thin waist framed by that tight underwear is gone as quickly as it came, and you’re greeted with an even more mouthwatering sight when he pushes the elastic band down, and that big cock you had alluded to springs out of its confines. You groan, subconsciously rolling your hips into the air as you take in the sight of his cock, mushroom tip swollen and flushed. There’s a thick vein that runs along the underside of it, one you only see when Jungkook grasps his dick in his hand and tugs upward like this isn’t his true form, and he can get bigger.

“Ready?” He asks, biting down on his lip as he continues to stroke himself. You nod, wiggling closer to him until the backs of your thighs rest on top of his, knees knocking against his waist. He grants you one more of those kind smiles, before he’s leaning down to press a hand beside your head, the other lining himself up with your soaked entrance.

Running his cock over your folds one last time, collecting as much of your cum as he can, he brushes a kiss against your cheekbone before he’s pushing in. You moan, throwing your hands around his neck as he pierces through the initial ring of muscle surrounding your warm heat. “Holy shit,” you choke, mouth dropped open as you pant like a dog against his shoulder. “J-Jungkook,” you cry, legs tightening around his waist the closer his body presses against yours.

Once he’s at the hilt, pelvis flush against you, you can’t help the series of whines and mewls that escape your lips from being so comfortably filled to the brim.

To your surprise, Jungkook is the first to speak. “Fuck,” he groans, breath hot against your ear. He sounds fucked out, once silky voice raspy with need as he grinds his hips against you tentatively. “This is what you wanted, isn't it?” He huffs, both hands coming down to wrap around your waist, your back arching under the wonderful hands that find themselves squeezing every inch of your back in an effort to pull you closer.

His mouth brushes against yours from this new position, and Jungkook puckers his lips, tongue coming out to lick at your bottom lip. You nearly cry when he finally pulls his hips away, relieves his cock from your tight heat before surging back in. “Wanted this from the moment you walked in, didn’t you, sweetheart?” Jungkook grunts, repeats the same motion until he’s picked up a steady pace of pushing and pulling, each roll of his hips sending a shock of ecstasy crawling up your spine.

You nod, eyes screwed shut as pleasure warms every inch of your body. It’s even worse to not see, because every sound and every touch is magnified tenfold, until you’re drowning in sensations. Jungkook’s choked groans, the slide of his hips, they all become too much too quickly and you’re choking back a sob.

“Fuck,” he groans, glancing down at your withered form like an animal as he picks up his pace. His hold on you tightens, never letting your body move away from him and he begins jack hammering in his thrusts, swallowing your cries with his lips. “Had me thinking you were a nice girl,” he huffs, and you wonder if he knows how tightly he’s holding you, how this grip will most likely leave you with fingerprint bruises tomorrow morning. But then again, you don’t care. All you care about is Jungkook’s voice and his body, guiding you toward completion. “But all you wanted was a quick fuck.”

You steel yourself to look at him again, and when your eyes finally open and focus, you’re wishing you hadn’t because Jungkook looks so hot over you. His pretty eyes, the ones that had led you into a false sense of comfort throughout the night and tricked you into believing he would be easy to bend to your every whim, are hard now. “Isn’t that right, doll?” He spits, and you whine when he punctuates this question with a particularly brutal thrust of his hips. His balls slap against your ass, and you squirm beneath him as you begin to feel the beginnings of an orgasm build in your core.

“I-I thought—“ you stammer, tone pitched from the way he jostles you with every thrust he gives. “Y-You wanted that,” you weekly defend, canting your hips down in a feeble attempt to progress this along.

He snorts, captures your lips in a rushed kiss where he wastes no time snaking his tongue inside your mouth. His saliva trickles into your mouth, and you whine as he purposefully lets it happen, pulls away just the slightest to pucker his lips and let a thick trail of spit fall straight into your open mouth. Satisfied with his little stunt, he rams his cock against you once more.

“If you wanted a quick fuck,” he says, nearly loses himself in your pussy, “you came to the wrong guy, sweetheart.”

You’re too caught up in the nice drag of his cock against your pussy, the tip of his cock stopping him from ever pulling out completely, that it takes you a second to process his words. “H-Huh?” You choke, teary eyes flickering across his face wildly as if the answer will be right in plain sight.

But all you’re met with is the soft pull of his lips as he flashes you a smirk, pearly white teeth tugging at the pink flesh, as he levels you with a glare of his own. Before you can question him further, he’s letting go of your waist to hike your knees into the crook of his elbows, his pouty lips growing further away as he leans back.

This shift has his cock nudging up, rubbing against the hood of your clit where a bundle of nerves he’d only briefly brushed before sits. You shriek in pleasure, writhing beneath him as the sudden sensation hits you full force. “Jungkook!” You sob, his hips slowing to a grind as he watches your face crumble beneath him.

“You like that?” He murmurs, rutting his hips against you shallowly. The change of pace, the rabid piston of his hips slowing to this, has your body melting into his touch. You barely manage a nod, eyes fluttering open and shut as his hips move sensually against you.

His cock brushes against that sensitive spot with each roll of his hips, and you’re a mewling, puddle of emotion by the third thrust. “Pretty girl,” he hums, letting go of one leg to place a hand above your mound, thumb circling your clit until you’re trembling beneath him. “Did you think I would fuck you and kick you out?” He husks, watching your body like he’s a lion and you’re his prey.

Your brain is far from comprehending anything at this point, reduced to a mere mass of nothingness as he continues moving against you, fingers rubbing your clit in all the right ways.

“Well, you were wrong about that, doll,” he huffs, and you’re blessed with the sight of his head lolling back as he loses himself in the tight grip of your pussy, skin glistening with sweat, trailing from behind his ear and over his neck, until you’re watching a pearl roll over his collarbones. “I don’t do that,” he informs you, and he pinches your clit between two fingers, hard enough that you almost miss his next words as you moan. “No, baby, I’ll fuck you and keep you forever,” he spits, and you whimper at his words. Finally, he lets go of your knees, right as you’re teetering on the edge of an orgasm and you moan out in protest as he ducks down to cage you between his arms again.

“Please,” you beg, voice hoarse as his hips slowly return to their pace from before. He’s still not pulling out as much, keeping his thrusts shallow as he kisses a trail up your neck and over your jaw.

“Gonna fuck you so good, you don’t ever want to leave, pretty,” he says, kisses the corner of your mouth as his hips pick up pace. You wanna cry, feeling so warm and cherished in his arms, his voice telling you how good you’re doing as the coil in your stomach tightens and tightens until you’re begging him for more. “Do you want that?”

“Yes! Yes!” You sob, rolling your hips against his like a madman as you chase your high.

Jungkook hums, smile smushed against your lips as he watches you desperately writhing beneath him. “Yeah? You want that?” You nod, mewls swallowed by his kisses. “Then cum for me, pretty girl.”

You whimper, just as he bucks into you once more, and suddenly you’re falling apart. It starts in your lower back, the ecstasy climbing it’s way through your body until you’re quivering and sobbing in his embrace, muffling your sounds against his shoulder. The muscles in your entire body tighten painfully, until suddenly a wave of contentment washes over you, and you’re too weak to even hold onto him anymore, arms flopping back onto the couch cushions beneath you.

The whole time, Jungkook mutters encouragement against your jaw, keeps his thrusts short but quick, guiding you through your orgasm. When you’re done, he presses an open mouthed kiss beneath your ear, pulling away to look at your boneless frame beneath him.

A few pistons of his hips later, and Jungkook is coming inside of you, cum coating your walls as he hammers his way through his orgasm. He pulls out when he’s done, and you instantly feel your mixed arousal drip out between your thighs.

Woozy from the wine and the two orgasms, you fall asleep soon after.

——

“Good morning,” you murmur, standing at the doorway leading into the kitchen, an area you’d only been able to find after stumbling around the upstairs of the house in confusion.

Jungkook whirls around, wide eyes taking in your appearance. You clutch at the hem of the big t-shirt you’d pulled on, the only article of clothing you saw that was thrown over a chair in a bedroom you didn’t dare snoop around. “Morning,” he exhales, calculating gaze never leaving you as you tiptoe over to him by the counter.

He doesn’t say more, spluttering into action when you peek over his shoulder to see what he’s up to. “What’re you making?” You inquire, and his hands begin fidgeting with the knife.

“Oh, um,” he stutters, and perhaps he’s overly aware of your presence so close beside him, because he suddenly doesn’t remember how he’s supposed to cut an avocado. Cute, you think. “Just, um, toast with avocado spread…”

You hum. After a moment, it seems Jungkook is able to quell his nerves, and he carefully slices the avocado open, spreading its innards across the toast. He hands you the first piece, which you take after masking your own surprise, and soon after he’s turning away from the counter as the two of you eat in silence.

After a few thoughtful munches of bread, you speak. “Thanks for carrying me to bed,” you say, refusing to look at him.

“You’re welcome,” he replies, almost a little too fast and you barely bite down a grin as he rambles on. “Wasn’t gonna leave you on the couch, especially not when you were so tired after… ah, yeah.”

It’s the reserved way he carries himself that gives you the balls to look at him. His ears are flushed adorably red, like when you were at dinner last night talking about his job, and all you wanna do is pinch his cheeks. “Yeah,” you agree, and then add with an air of faux shyness, “you were really cool last night.”

It’s the little devil in you begging to jump out, curious to see how far you can push Jungkook before he shifts into that suave version of himself from last night, and you would feel bad had the corner of his lips not tilted up in amusement.

He chokes out a laugh, mutters a “yeah?” and you don’t stop yourself when you jump into his arms and kiss that avocado spread right off his lips.

——

On Tuesday afternoon, Kim Namjoon is in the midst of delivering another sermon-like speech on the importance of utilizing your student ID when visiting any of the Starbucks within a two mile radius of your school, when you spot a chestnut head of hair from the corner of your eye.

“Sorry, Joon! My ride's here!” You yelp, shoving your notebook into your bag as you stumble over yourself in your haste to leave.

Namjoon blinks. “Huh? I thought you lived on campus?”

You nod, that giddy feeling starting up in your chest as he comes closer to where you and Namjoon have taken up residence on a table in the commons for your weekly meeting, and by the time he reaches the table Namjoon is still in the midst of questioning you.

“Jungkook,” You say, all dreamily and dazed, and you know this because Doyeon caught you with this same exact look on your face after he dropped you off at the dorms Sunday afternoon.

Namjoon startles. “What the f—“

“Hi,” Jungkook beams, leans down to brush a kiss against your cheek, which only serves to make you even more ditzy and dumb in the face of this handsome man. “Oh, hey, hyung.”

“What’re you doi—“

“All set?” Jungkook asks you, completely ignoring whatever his beloved senior was saying in favor of taking your bag off your shoulders. You nod, have to swallow a giggle down when he takes your hand in his. “Bye, hyung.”

“Bye, Joon!” You barely remember to throw over your shoulder, too busy wrapping yourself around Jungkook’s arm to hear Namjoon blabber in shock. 

“Kids these days,” he huffs.

[ part 2 ; hulu & woohoo ]

[bestiesenpai]

Taker pt2 - Sukuna

Ah, the smell of freshly baked step-brother kink in the morning -3- the flavor is so good, I like to have it with my morning tea. Femme reader and this is the second and final part for this series(?)

part one

Content warnings: Sukuna big meanie, noncon+dubcon, degradation, a smol bit of praise!, spanking, choking(brief), pseudoincest(duh)

The incident you had with Sukuna was burned into your brain forever. You couldn’t even pass the couch anymore, gaze pointedly turned away from it whenever you were near. Sitting on it with your family was too much, especially when your mother sat in the seat Sukuna had been when he had his cock buried into you.

So, you did what seemed like the right idea: ran away to your grandparents house. It was under the guise of spending time with them and no one questioned it. They welcomed you with open arms, excited and surprised at the sudden visit.

It was nice with them, not having to deal with Sukuna sending you dirty looks when he walked past the lounge room and not having to avoid him in the halls at night when you were trying to use the bathroom or get a glass of water.

But when it came to you and your step brother Sukuna, nothing good lasted long.

“Oh Sukuna, hello!” The front door opened and your grandpa stepped back to reveal Sukuna, bundled up in a hoodie and sweats.

“Hey gramps.” Sauntering into the house with his hands in his pockets, Sukuna smirked widely at your horrified expression. “Hey little sis, ‘m here to take ya home!”

“W-what?” It had only been a week since you’d been gone, and while you had been planning to come home in a few days you weren’t expecting Sukuna to come get you.

“Yeah, you don’t remember texting me last night asking to pick you up today? Dad let me borrow the car, it’s parked out front.” Hooking his thumb behind him, Sukuna dropped the smirk when your grandma came into the room and donned an innocent pout.

“Sukuna, good to see you! Staying out of trouble I hope?”

“Eh, not really.” He shrugged and laughed lightly. Your grandparents didn’t know the half of it. Just a few days ago Yuji texted you that Sukuna had gotten into another fight and stumbled into your empty room dripping blood.

Your grandma laughed easily, patting him on the chest and muttering something about how rowdy young men can be. Glued to your spot, you watched in agony as Sukuna chatted up your grandparents, talking about something that you didn’t quite catch.

“(Y/N), don’t just sit there Sukuna came all this way to get you! Pack your things.” Your grandma caught your eye, brows knitting at seeing you not moving.

“But-” You stammered, trying to say something more diplomatic besides ‘I don’t want to go home with my perverted step brother that bullies me’.

“You need help getting your stuff together? Where’s your room, I’ll help.” Sukuna was already walking past you and toward the bedrooms, and you couldn’t stop him now. Biting your lip, you followed after him and darted into the bedroom you’d been using.

“Not so fast!” You tried to slam the door shut before Sukuna could come in but he was faster than you thought and much stronger than you remembered. His hand caught the door, shoving it open and shoving you back into the room with ease.

“Why’re you here?” You huff, turning your back to him and gathering the clothes you’d left strewn about.

“I came to get my little sister of course!” He said loud enough for your grandparents to hear. He had one eye over his shoulder, checking to see if one of them would come into the room. With the coast clear, Sukuna turned to you and dropped his voice. “I can’t have my little princess avoiding me forever now, can I?”

“It’s only been a week!” The sentence comes out as a whine and you throw your head back, stamping your foot in a huff.

“A week far too long to be apart from you.” With a dark chuckle, Sukuna walked up to you and pushed you on the shoulder, turning you to him. “I won’t let you slip through my fingers that easily.”

“I hate you.” You glared harshly at him and pushed him back.

“Ouch, those words would hurt if you meant them.”

“I do.”

“Nah, I’m sure you’ll be taking them back real soon.” Snatching the clothes out of your hand, Sukuna threw them across the room. “Now hurry up, I’m tired of fucking waiting.”

The drive home was heavy with unspoken tension. Not a word was spoken from either of you, not that Sukuna particularly cared. He had the radio turned up to some blaring punk rock station, mouthing along to some of the songs and humming every so often.

Entering the house, your heart dropped at realizing it was just you two alone again. It was the middle of the work week and both your parents were out, and Yuji had university classes to attend. Only you and Sukuna, who had no school or job to go to, were in the house.

“My room, now.” Shoving you in the back, Sukuna nearly made you fall over.

“Hey!” He forced you up the stairs and to his room at the end of the hallway, knocking you into the closed door a few times as he fumbled to turn the knob.

“Home sweet home.” Sighing happily, Sukuna closed and locked the door behind him. You’d been in Sukuna’s room only once, when he wasn’t home and you had to collect a few things he’d ‘borrowed’ from your room.

There was an electric guitar and amp in the corner next to a desk covered with random papers and old fast food bags. Multiple overlapping posters were hung on the walls of different bands and strange art that Sukuna liked, along with a few gravure models above his bed. The faint smell of cigarettes and body wash clung to the air, making the dark room feel even darker.

“So, tell me why you left me.” Pushing you to the middle of the room, Sukuna walked around you in circles.

“You know why.”

“Mmm, I don’t think I do.” His voice sounded behind you, and in one swift motion he knocked you out at the knees and sent you to the floor. “Try again.”

“You know why!” You shouted at him, attempting to stand but his hands on your shoulders kept you on the ground.

“Try. Again.” Bending down to your line of sight, Sukuna stared at you with widened eyes.

“I don’t know what you want me to say! You fucked me, Sukuna! And- and I didn’t like it!” Immediately his hand was around your throat, constricting your airways and forcing you to sit up straight on your knees to try and breathe.

“Ya say you didn’t like it but then why’d you cum twice? Certainly weren’t saying you didn’t like it when I was fucking you so good. What were the words you said, ‘I love my big brother's cock’?” Tilting his head to the side, Sukuna let out a disappointed hum. “No, there has to be another reason and I think I know what it is.”

Letting you go, Sukuna straightened up and stared down his nose at you, a hollow look in his eyes as he watched you clutch your throat and gasp in air. Sometime during all this, your phone had fallen out onto the floor and Sukuna picked it up.

“You’re screwing around with a little boyfriend, aren’t you?”

“Wh-what? No I’m not.” You choked, lungs still burning.

“You didn’t want your big brother Sukuna to find out you were fucking cheating on him, right?” Waving your phone in front of your face, Sukuna jerked it out of reach when you tried to grab for it.

“Give it back, that’s not true!” You played the game of cat and mouse, desperately trying to get your phone back from him and leave the room. “Sukuna, it’s not true and you know it!”

“Liar.” Tossing your phone onto his bed, Sukuna grabbed your upper arms and forced you to stand. Stumbling back onto his bed he dragged you with him and as soon as he sat down he threw you across his lap.

A short grunt left your mouth as your chest collided with his legs, hands scrambling on the bed to try and drag yourself off. Sukuna kept a tight grip around your middle, yanking your bottoms and panties off in one go.

“Suku-” Your cry was cut off by a hard slap against your ass, hot pain shooting across your body and only getting worse when he landed a hand on your other cheek.

“You fucking bitch. Do you hate me now?” Sukuna huffed, smacking you again and putting more of his weight into it. Your bottom was already stinging and with each smack that landed it only made it worse.

“S-sukuna! Stop, stop-” Tears were easily streaming out of your eyes and dripping into his mattress. Your feet beat against the bed, trying in vain to stop him from hitting you again.

“You’ve already forgotten your training too? Wow princess, I’m fucking disappointed.” Smacking you again, Sukuna yanked your shirt collar up, forcing you to rest on your elbows and look back at him. “What’re you supposed to call me?”

Squeezing your lips together, you shook your head hard. You couldn’t even focus fully on him with all the tears clouding your vision and there wasn’t a hope for you to actually speak either with the way you were hiccuping.

“Say it.” He barked, slapping the back of your thighs this time.

“Ow!”

“Oh so you can speak! What are you supposed to call me?”

“Big- big brother! Big brother, big brother!” Shaking your head harder, you sucked your bottom lip into your mouth, trying to calm your frantic cries.

“Much fucking better.” Letting you fall back onto the bed, Sukuna hit you a few more times in rapid succession. “But it seems you’ve forgotten just who you belong to.” Without warning Sukuna shoved you off his lap and back onto the floor.

Landing on your ass, you yelped loudly and flipped over onto your stomach, the cool air in the room doing nothing for how hot and irritated your skin was now. It hurt and there was no hiding it, your crying the only sound in the room.

“Quit your crying, you dumb baby. I went easy on you, you should feel grateful.” Walking over you, Sukuna dug through his dresser before procuring a large black t-shirt. Holding it up to the light, he smiled and tossed it down to you.

“Wh-what-?” Trembling fingers grabbed the shirt and turned it over, and you blinked hard to clear the tears and look at what was printed on the front.

“Like it? Had it specially made for you.” On the front of the shirt in big, bold white letters were the words ‘big brothers cumslut’. Sukuna didn’t wait for a response, taking in your horrified expression with glee as he stripped himself. “Go ahead, put it on.”

“Big brother…” You whined, coming to stand on your knees and keeping your ass away from your feet. Twisting the shirt in your hands, you couldn’t decide what was worse: the shirt or the fact that Sukuna was barely two feet from you with a hard cock only getting harder with his hand pumping it.

“Don’t keep me waiting.” He warned and walked past you to lay on the bed. Hanging your head, you stood up and whined again, grabbing the edges of your own shirt and lifting it up. “There we go, nice and slow.”

Your body shook as you took your shirt and bra off, cheeks burning when Sukuna let out a low whistle and fisted his cock a few times at the sight of your naked body. Tears wet your lashes again as you slid the new shirt on, the words on it permanently branded your chest.

With a soft mutter, Sukuna pulled you over to him, moving you to straddle him with his cock nestled between your legs. Laying heavy hands on your hips, he pushed your ass flat against his thighs, not caring in the slightest about your pained squirming.

Humiliation clung to you like a second skin as the weight of the shirt settled on your body. Embarrassment burrowed deeply in your brain as the memories of being spanked by your big brother and crying like a baby took up space in your brain. There was already shame hanging over you from being fucked by Sukuna the first time and you thought it couldn’t get any bigger.

But when he maneuvered his cock between the lips of your cunt, pressing it flush against your wet sex without sticking it in and pushing and pulling your hips to grind against him, it increased tenfold.

Your hands slapped down onto his chest, whether you wanted to stop him or get more momentum was unknown even to you. It was deplorable the amount of your slick he was able to build up just by grinding you on his cock.

“You like that, stupid girl?” Sukuna groaned lightly, his lip caught between his teeth as he watched your cunt envelop him, the tip of his cock poking out every so often.

“I-” You struggled to answer. Every slide back brought the pain in your ass back to the forefront of your mind and every slide forward had sparks shooting up your spine at the way your clit rubbed against him.

“See, I just had to be a little mean to you, to teach you a lesson.” Sukuna kept talking, catching your hazy eyes but not really caring if you were listening. “Big brother just had to remind you of a few things, but as long as you’re good he won’t have to do it again.”

“O-okay.” Nodding your heavy head, you sniffled away the remaining tears. “M’sorry, brother.” You weren’t even sure what you were apologizing for, the words just tumbling out of your mouth easily.

“Ooh princess.” Sukuna cooed, pouting his lip and lifting a hand to shake your head by the chin. “I know you are. That’s why you’re gonna make me feel real good to make it up.”

“Mhmm.” Sukunas hand dropped from your chin and grabbed onto your hips again and this time you moved with him. The slow push and pull of your hips picked up when you began to move on your own accord, gliding your cunt across his cock.

Seeing you move on your own, Sukuna let go of your hips and put his hands behind his head, lacing his fingers together and sighing contently. His lip caught between his teeth again watching you grind yourself on him.

“Big brother, I-” The pleasure you were getting from this was mind numbing, the direct stimulation on your clit combined with the hazy fog you were already in from getting spanked making you forget how to do anything except keep moving.

“So good for me, aren’t you.” Sukuna groaned and his arms shook as a jolt went up. “Just like that, keep going.”

“Brother…” All the pleasure you were getting was amazing, but you were growing needy. There was something you still needed, something the clenching of your empty cunt wouldn’t let you ignore.

Lifting yourself up with horribly shaky arms, your eyes were glued to Sukunas cock, glistening with your juices and absolutely rock hard. Stuffing part of the shirt in your mouth so you could see better, you grabbed Sukunas cock and attempted to guide it into your cunt.

“Aht, not so fast princess.” Snatching your hand off of him, Sukuna grabbed both your hands and held them up and away.

“Lemme go- I wanna- want your-” Your attempts at tugging your wrists free was weak and in vain. Sinking back, Sukuna’s cock resumed its previous spot hugged by your cunt.

“Don’t forget you were still a bad girl, you still need to learn your lesson.”

“Meanie.” Pouting down at him, you sloppily jutted your hips forward. The move made Sukuna’s breath hitch and you did it a few more times, rutting against him in a feeble attempt at getting back at him.

“You think you’re doing something but really you’re just gonna make me cum.” Squeezing your wrists one more time, Sukuna let them go and put his hands on your thighs. “And when I cum it’s all over.”

The implication of his words took several long seconds to reach your consciousness. If you wanted to cum, it would have to be this way, and it would have to be before Sukuna came. Slowing down, you tried to angle your hips forward to put more pressure on your clit.

“Don’t slow down now, keep going!” Catching on quickly, Sukuna smacked your thighs and squeezed them, forcing you back to the pace you were at earlier.

“Brother, please!” Digging the tips of your fingers into his chest, you tried to forcibly slow down.

“Quit being such a greedy brat and take what I give you.”

“Gimme- yo-your cock!” Gone was the shame that had clung to you so heavily. Nothing else mattered now except for the achingly empty feeling inside you desperate to be filled by your big brother's cock.

“You have it right here princess.” Sukuna grinned, thrusting his hips up. The sharp movement had your heavy head lolling forward and eyes screwing shut.

“Big brother, fuck.” Your chest heaved greatly as you fought to keep getting air into your lungs. Your shirt was bunched up by your waist, held in place by Sukuna so he could get an uninterrupted look at you humping him.

With renewed vigor you ground your hips against his as fast as you could, zealously chasing the pleasure that you could get from this moment. It had your toes curling and you were absolutely gushing around his cock, making the slide even easier.

A couple sharp, high pitched cries leave your lips just as Sukuna cums at the same time as you. His back arches up off the mattress, a deep groan rumbling from his chest. You don’t stop moving and Sukuna doesn’t let you, making you fuck him through both your orgasms.

Some of his cum catches on the front of your cunt, but most of it splatters across his crotch and lower stomach. Every thrust of your hips seems to push more out, spurting the sticky white fluid out in a disjointed pattern.

When the stupor of his orgasm wears off Sukuna lets you go, lets you fall forward and then to his side in a tired, mushy lump. As he catches his breath he watches your thighs twitch from the aftershocks of your orgasm, the shine of your slick cunt glaringly obvious to him.

Lazily, Sukuna grabs a few tissues of the bedside table and wipes himself clean. He would have had you do it and made you lick him clean, but he couldn’t trust you not to stick his soft cock into you and try to fuck him.

“Hey, princess this isn’t a fucking hotel.” He jerks your shoulder, forcing you to sit up and shake off the light sleep that had dusted across your eyes.

“What’re you doing?” You grumble, steadily growing annoyed as he forces you to your feet and towards the door.

“Good girls get to sleep in my bed, but you’re still on fucking punishment, remember?”

“You’re being mean, s’not fair!” Pushing back against him, you almost make it back onto his bed.

“Get out, you little bitch! Learn to act right and be a good girl.” Wrapping an arm under your breasts, Sukuna hoists you up and drags you out of his room, dumping you unceremoniously out into the hall.

A pitiful whine leaves you, but you gather yourself up and stand in front of him. You don’t even realize you’ve started crying until Sukuna rubs a rough hand across your face and wipes a few tears away.

“Shut up and go put your shit in your room.” You nod, lower lip trembling and sniffling loudly, but make no sign to move. Rolling his eyes, Sukuna slaps the doorframe. “Fine, since you’re being so pathetic, here’s a deal. Are you listening?”

“Y-yes.”

“If you go and put all your shit away you can come and lay down in my bed. Deal?” Crossing his arms over his chest, Sukuna tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for you to answer. “Well, do we have a fucking deal or not?”

“Yes.” Wiping your eyes again, you take a few steps back.

“Yes what?”

“Yes big brother.” There’s a pout on your lips as you say it and Sukuna swipes his thumb across your bottom lip.

“Good girl. Now get going, I don’t wanna have to come and get you again.” Giving your ass a pat and reminding you of the pain in your backside that had been pushed away, Sukuna grinned. With a quick nod you scurried away, feet landing heavy on the stairs as you went to grab your bag.

Man, did Sukuna love having such a good little sister or what?

[missymurphy1985]

It's Just Business

You've never mixed business with pleasure, but sometimes, these things are outside of your control.

Opening the door to your hotel room, you sighed. Throwing your bag onto the double bed, swiftly followed by your body, you pulled the pillow over your head and screamed.

"This is ridiculous y/n, YOU are ridiculous!!"

It was never meant to be more than a business deal. A deal with the Peaky Blinders to gain exclusive rights to the southern racetracks in England. You and your brothers would have control over them, while the Blinders remained in control of the Midlands. The deal went to plan, and you'd spent the evening in the Garrison celebrating.

Flashback

"I'm heading back to my hotel, Tommy, I can barely stand up straight!!" You smiled, and turned to grab your bag and coat from the arm of the chair.

"Let me walk you home at least, y/n, you look a little.. unsteady?" Tommy linked your arm with his and you both headed back to your hotel. Talking along the way, you met a different side to him. One that you hadn't expected. You spoke about his gin business, and his export licence that was soon to be granted.

"Gin eh? Now that sounds interesting, I'd like to try this gin of yours some day." You stumbled slightly on the steps and he held tighter to your arm.

"Falling for me already Miss y/l/n? Haven't even had a sip of the gin yet.." he smirked, leading you off the path to your hotel and walking you towards his office. You smiled back, and took his arm again, allowing him to lead the way.

Once inside his office, he sat you down at his large oak desk and picked up a bottle of his gin from the cupboard and two glasses. Making his way back to his side of the desk, he poured you each a small glass and raised a toast.

"Here's to the cure for incurable sadness y/n.. and here's to our new business arrangement." You clinked your glass with his and took a sip, grimacing slightly.

"Well Mr Shelby, you didn't skimp on the sugar in this did you now? Wow.. very sweet indeed.."

"The Americans like it sweet, I'm hoping to expand that side of the Atlantic now, have to give the punters what they want."

"And do you always give people what they want, Mr Shelby?" You stood, feeling a sudden surge of confidence, possibly caused by the sharp intake of sugar. He leaned back in his chair, watching you approach him slowly, a slight smirk on his lips as he looked your body up and down.

"Depends on the request, y/n.."

"I'm not used to not getting what I want, Thomas. And I know exactly what I want." You leaned against the desk, right next to him as you say yourself on it, crossing your legs seductively, lifting your dress slightly to expose your lower legs. He looked in your eyes, a hand gently caressing your ankle, moving further up to your knees. He looked at your face for any signs of hesitation before moving his hand further up your thigh, parting your legs slightly to allow access.

You gasped at the feeling of his fingers, brushing over your now damp underwear as you shuddered, his finger lighting brushing your clit over the lace underwear.

"I see.. and what exactly is it you're requesting, Miss y/l/n?" You felt your core burning, desperate for more. Parting your legs, you felt him push the panties to one side, running a finger over your slit to feel just how wet you were, hot and ready.

Tommy couldn't wait any longer, his erection pressing hard against his suit trousers begging for release. He stood between your wide open legs and lifted your dress above your hips, grinding his against your core roughly.

"I want you buried deep inside me Thomas, I want you to fuck me on this table, right now.. think you can manage that?" Tommy smiled, loving this confident side of you, taking charge. You ran your hand down to his now twitching bulge, before leaning in to kiss him hard, your fingers tugging at his belt and zip. He'd normally take things much slower, but the need inside him overtook him, he needed to feel you NOW. Allowing his trousers and underwear to fall, he pulled your underwear down and pressed his cock against your mound, returning his lips to yours in a passionate, rough kiss. You pushed your hips against his, feeling his cock rub against your clit you gasped. He lined himself up against your entrance and pushed in hard, both of you released a low moan in response. Keeping you upright, he moved his hands down to your hips and rocked you against him as he pounded into you, hard and fast against his desk.

You leaned back slightly, moving a hand between you to rub your clit as he took you. The sight nearly made him cum there and then, he'd never seen a sight as sexy as this.

"Rub it baby, make yourself cum on my cock yeah? Fuck you feel good..." He continued his thrusts, watching your fingers circle over yourself, occasionally bringing them up to his lips for him to taste you and add extra moisture, before bringing them back down to continue circling, pressing harder each time.

Your body began to twitch, his cock hitting the right spot with each thrust and you fingers taking you even closer.

"Tommy I'm close... Fuck... Cum with me please, harder.. need it harder..." He complied and fucked you as deep as possible, pushing you back onto the table so you were on your back, lifting a leg against his chest for a deeper thrust. His fingers took over from yours, rubbing your clit harder and faster as your orgasm swamped you, your soaked core soaking both him and the table underneath you. With a groan and two more hard thrusts, he came undone, spilling inside you.

You both lay there, him resting on top of you, for a while, catching your breath. You softly ran your fingers through his hair as he kissed your still covered breasts lightly.

"Y/n, I'm sorry.. I took advantage of you.. this was wrong. Your brother might have a few choice words for me about this y/n." Tommy lifted himself from you and pulled his trousers back up. You lifted yourself up, pulling your underwear back up and straightening your dress back down.

"I approached you, Mr Shelby, not the other way around. As for my brother, he's fucking most of London, I wouldn't worry too much about him." Tommy smiled.

"So maybe I can see you again?" You nodded, before planting a gentle kiss on his lips. He held you close, inhaling your scent, feeling things he hadn't felt for a long time about anyone. You were something else, he couldn't get enough of you, and you felt it too, before pulling him back down on top of you, the kiss becoming hungrier again.

Present day

You sat up in the bed, a wave of nausea coming over you again as you lurched to the en suite to allow your dinner to evacuate. Three months you'd been sleeping with Tommy, and three days you'd been feeling the symptoms you were trying so hard to ignore. Sore breasts, sickness, backache, mood swings. A doctor back in London had confirmed your suspicions that morning, and you were cursing yourself for it. How could you be so stupid?

You heard the door to your Small Heath hotel room knock, and open. Then the voice of the man you were desperate to avoid.

"Y/n, are you here? Woah, now, you okay?" He heard you in the bathroom, throwing up.

"Don't come in here Tommy, I'm fine don't worry!" He ignored you, coming in to hold your hair back. Running his hands over your back soothing you as you caught your breath. You couldn't help it, the tears leaving your eyes as you felt his comforting hands on you. "Just something I've eaten, that's all, it's passed now, I'm okay.." he looked at you, still unsure, as he lifted you from the floor. Fetching you a glass of water, he led you over to the bed.

"Come lie down with me, eh?" He lay down, motioning for you to join him.

"I don't think I'm up for that, Tommy.."

Chuckling, he shook his head. "I know, just come lie down, yeah?" You lay in his arms, back against his chest. You felt so safe and comfortable in his arms.. but was it enough? Would he still want you now?

He kissed your neck gently, his arms wrapping round your stomach. He felt you tense.

"What's wrong?"

"No.. no nothing...just a bit sore from being sick is all..." You mumbled, hoping he believed you. Without warning he placed a warm, comforting hand across your belly, suddenly stopping. You tried to move his hand away but it was no good, he was stronger. He felt the slightly rounded skin.. the harder belly that was usually so soft.. he pulled back, sitting up. You felt the tears coming back.

"How long have you known?" He asked, voice catching in his throat. He remembered Ada being newly pregnant and she'd allowed him to feel her belly as it changed, he was fascinated by it. He recognised it, much to your discomfort.

"I found out this morning.. Tommy I'm so sorry, I don't think I can go through with this..." His heart lurched. He'd felt himself falling in love with you, and now you were carrying his child and you were contemplating getting rid of it.. Swallowing his emotions, he took a deep breath in and pulled you to face him, both of you sat on the bed looking into each others eyes. His hand remained on your belly, a surge of emotion flew threw him.

"Nearly 3 months gone already, Tommy. It must have happened that first night.. I need to do something about this quickly..."

"Do you really want this? You really want to? You know I can take care of you, both of you.. there's nothing either of you will want for again?"

"Tommy I don't want your help financially, I can manage on my own.. I always thought this would happen once I'd married.. with a man who would be a father to our child, not just a financial crutch.. my baby needs a father.."

"Our baby, y/n.. ours. We made this little person.. a little you and me. A perfect combination of us both... Why is this such a bad idea, eh?" You felt tears sting your eyes again.

"Because no one knows we're even sleeping together Tommy, no one has any idea at all, and the repercussions..."

"What repercussions? Your brother?" You nodded, a year escaping. "Your brother and I are fine y/n, I almost see him as a fourth brother of my own. I've learned I can trust him - more than any business partner I've ever had before. I'm sure he will be as thrilled about this as I am -"

"You're thrilled??" You interrupted quickly.

"Yes, y/n.. I am. I'll marry you tomorrow if you'll let me.. just think about all of this please, yeah"" He leaned you back onto the bed softly, taking your lips against his own. You sighed against this kiss, this one feeling different to any other you'd shared. You felt an unexpected love radiating from him, and you felt it too, more than you'd care to admit.

"You really think this will work, Tommy?"

"I plan on showing you every single day how much this will work y/n... And just how much I love yo."" Another tear left your eye, he said it.. he actually said it.

"I.. Tommy please don't be saying this because of the baby..."

"I'm saying this because I mean it. I love you, I love our baby, and I'll marry you. Be my wife y/n, marry me?" You burst into tears. Fucking pregnancy hormones...

"Yes.. yes Thomas Shelby I'll fucking marry you!" You leaned into his arms, kissing his mouth, he didn't care that you'd been sick, he needed to feel you.

"Mrs Shelby-to-be... Let's get you cleaned up shall we? We have a few announcements to make." He smiled, kissing you again, he swore he could see his entire future in your eyes, this baby, more babies, your wedding day, grandchildren.. it was all there for the taking and he couldn't wait.

Taglist - message me to be added!

@ntmynouis @queenshelby @peakyscillian

[amazingphilza]

maniac :: cc!tommy x reader

angst (?) , platonic (?) , gender neutral ! ib: conan gray’s maniac

this is satire & note that i write the reader to be a few months younger than tommy (besides that, i think it is fully inclusive !)

synopsis : you put all your hard work towards a useless crush. with no expectation for reciprocated feelings in the first place, it still all ends in a bittersweet slap to reality.

you grew up with minecraft and it was an understatement to say it was part of your childhood

even years later, you still maintained interested in the game

it wasn’t just a simple video game, the community inspired you to do many things

you aspired to be like the creators you watched at a young age like sky, dantdm, cupquake, stampy, and many more

making people happy and entertained was a dream

and when minecraft slowly began trending again in 2019, you started making your own content whenever you felt like it out of fun

you never got much views but it was an enjoyable experience nonetheless

but it wasn’t until the first minecraft monday you decided to push a bit more with your hobbies and worked hard to make it somewhere

however balancing your passions with school wasn’t the easiest

given, you were still only around 15 and your content wasn’t even that good

with not much of a goal or plan with your youtube channel, you fell out of interest eventually

you loved minecraft but you always a rocky relationship with it; getting back into it for a few months then pretending it never really existed for another few

besides the occasional videos you watched in your pass time, you didn’t stay that updated

then lockdown happened

it changed everything and even got you regressing back to old interests

soon enough you were back to minecraft

there was so much to catch up on

hermitcraft season 7 just started, there was minecraft championships, and smp earth and smp live, and so much more to look forward to watching

you were a bit late on both of the smps but your interest peaked specially towards smp earth and it didn’t stop you from watching the past videos

you first gravitated towards a certain youtuber’s videos first since you remember stumbling onto his videos before from your recommended page; wilbur soot

besides recognizing him from his you laugh you lose series and making parody-type of songs, you didn’t know much

however with a few clicks, you had binge watched his smp earth series effortlessly

you found yourself falling down the endless hole, finding more creators to watch through wilbur

one in particular caught your eye in an interesting way

tommyinnit

my god, how can someone be so annoying and pushy in these videos? like shut up already

and to find out he was barely months older than you frustrated you

you just wanted to be better in some way

if someone like him could be popular, why can’t you? yelling at others and causing problems didn’t seem that hard

and so you went back to working hard on your previously failed youtube channel but this time with a goal; be better than tommyinnit

it was a weird aspiration in your head but it worked

he was your age and successful, why need a better motivator?

tommy wasn’t the sole reason why you strive to make content since you truly did want to create videos to entertain people like the youtubers you originally grew up watching

and with the amount of free time you had, you thoroughly analyzed his content; what was the most popular, how he streamed, edited his videos, everything

you just completely studied the algorithm in general

along the way, tommy’s personality grew on you

tommy was undoubtedly a very loud and energetic person but you became fond of his ambitions

you understood why he was popular at such a young age; he was a natural entertainer

your spite towards the boy turned into a hope

a hope to be at par with him someday and even be mutuals

and it was like your dreams were suddenly manifested into existence

you gained a large following in the early months of lockdown and even was recognized to be apart of minecraft championships

it felt like yesterday that you were just watching your favorite youtubers livestream the same competition

and now you were situation in a team to play yourself for the first time instead of being a viewer for once

not to mention, with tommyinnit as a teammate

how did you manage to get so lucky?

under the excitement, you felt beyond never nervous waiting in the empty discord call for your team to join you to practice the mini-games

in the middle of gathering your thoughts together, you heard a sound from discord signaling someone joined the call

“uh, hello?”

you heard the familiar british accent you spent hours listening to from countless streams and videos

“h-hi! i’m y/n, how are you?”

you hoped tommy couldn’t hear the strain in your voice due to fighting your nerves, but you quietly celebrated that you didn’t freeze up altogether

“oh i’m good, thank you. and i’m tommy by the way, this is the first time we’re speaking, yeah?”

“yep! it’s nice to meet you”

“yeah, i’ve seen your name around the timeline a few times, you seem cool”

oh my god what?

“thanks! um i actually really enjoy your content not gonna lie”

“oh wow, good shit!”

and the conversation smoothly went on, bouncing back and forth between you two before your other two teammates joined the call

once everyone was situated, you decided to start streaming since it was your first mcc and you wanted a vod of you practicing to look at later on as a memory

your chat immediately noticed how much you were enjoying yourself, especially after all the short stories of talking about who inspired you in the past

the smile plastered on your face never left

after stream and your other teammates went offline, it was you and tommy left in the call once together again

“it was nice talking to you tommy! and the practice was really fun, i cant wait for the actual competition!”

“yeah definitely, we’ll for sure place high”

“hopefully. it’s my first time and i hope i don’t cost us the dub”

“nah, you think so? i mean rt and plumbella are also our team mates so you know, it’s all for fun in the end”

you knew tommy was implying the teamwork wasn’t going to be the best compared to the other teams but at least in the end you’ve both made a new friend

“yeah you’re right!”

“anyway it’s getting late imma hop off”

“okay tommy, talk to you soon?”

“yep!”

“alright byee”

“bye!”

the moment he left the call, you felt a sense of relief before a small wave of sadness took over

you wanted to continue talking to tommy but you knew you had other responsibilities to tend to

for the rest of the day, you couldn’t stop thinking of the call and mcc practice

the funny jokes, singing random songs, screaming for no reason, everything

it even kept you awake until the early morning

you buried your head in a pillow and screamed into it after realization hit

y/n no

no no no no no no no

you tried to recall anything that remotely related your other teammates which you remembered that didn’t include tommy

even if it was a few hours ago, you couldn’t pin point something specific

no

i must just be forgetful, right?

what the hell did rt and plumbella even say that whole call?

you vividly remembered everything with tommy and it was clear to you why

surely not

with putting a hand on your chest above your heart, you confirmed that you couldn’t lie to yourself based on the rapid speed

you liked tommy for a good while but it hadn’t clicked to you until now

eventually you fell asleep due to exhaustion but that’s to say you didn’t do so without imagining spending more time with tommy

ever since that day, time went by in a flash

your team didn’t do the best in mcc but it had been a while since then to have that as a concern

sadly you and tommy didn’t talk as often as you hoped but that didn’t make you have less feelings for him

on some days you felt bad since you thought you didn’t know enough about him to even be allowed to crush on him

it was a bit unprofessional but you were nearly 16, it’s normal to have these little crushes right?

eventually time came to rescue when tommy asked you if you wanted to accompany him in the dream smp

undoubtedly, you said yes

and for the few months during summer, it was where you two became even closer than before

however, once both of you two had to go back and attend school, it was harder to catch up with each other

even on calls together off stream, the occasional snapchat notification going off irked you in a way you couldn’t explain

only winter break was the small pause on your disappointment

but even then, it was a slow but steady hill of repressed sadness and frustration until early spring of the following year

you had hoped 2021 would be better than last year but after scrolling through twitter one day and seeing stans making rumors about how tommy had a crush on one of his classmates gave you the same pain you felt when school started last fall

you dreaded to look over at tommy’s most recent story time stream vod where all the gossip arose from; it was him stumbling over his words with the mention of a girl during a certain part

jealousy wasn’t the right word to describe the way you felt

you would never go out of your way to make tommy reciprocate the feelings you had for him

and if he liked someone else the way you saw him, you wouldn’t mind

having a crush is ecstatic, and if he has someone like that too, you should be happy

right?

you tried

what finally broke you was seeing a tiktok a few weeks later of tommy in college with eryn and another girl talking

you didn’t know how she looked like or anything but you wanted to sob

good for him

she didn’t even say much in the video and you dont know enough about tommy’s personal life to jump to conclusions like this

you knew you were acting irrational and you couldn’t be upset at tommy for something he couldn’t control

if anything, you never directly showed interest in him

you didn’t want to in the first place

it was a bad idea from the start

you looked back at the past year and all your intentions

what kind of sick fanfiction did you think you were living?

becoming a content creator, hoping to blow up, just to talk to a big youtuber you had a crush on?

oh my god

y/n what is wrong with you?

listen to yourself, y/n

you need to get some help

whether tommy was dating or even just had interest someone was none of your business

you had to move on no matter what it was and be good and supportive friend

it was dreadful to get over a stupid crush like this but after so much work you put in, you gave some sympathy for yourself

in a friend perspective, you were happy with whatever tommy did and was satisfied your friendship together, but you hadn’t realized how much you gambled from the beginning

and just for a crush?

you couldn’t comprehend how far you gone because you fancied someone

it wasn’t like anyone could get famous and become a popular content creator either

and now with you being on the dream smp along with a successful youtube channel at 16? you were grateful something pushed you enough to work this hard

but you’d never forget the fact everything that lead up to this point was a crush on no other than tommyinnit which first spurred from complete spite

“who’s the one better off now?” your thoughts mocked you from the complete irony

sigh

y/n, you maniac