#yeah man pecs saves lives

[fugeoni666]

"General, you are stable now"

[yawnderu]

>Simon has a neet weirdo as a best friend Or Simon Riley lets his best friend see his naked body for art references.

This wasn't the way Simon was expecting to spend his PTO; naked in his best friend's bed with his hand covering his soft cock, hoping not to make you uncomfortable as you took notes of his body's reactions.

“Can you like... get hard?” He was trying his best not to get hard, going as far as to think about gross things he's seen throughout the years to distract himself from the feeling of your nails raking up and down his bare stomach, defined muscles tensing and bulging beneath your palm.

“'S not how it works.” He grumbled out, tired brown eyes looking away from you. Simon isn't embarrassed— not at all, he's simply not used to someone inspecting him the way you are, curious eyes fully focused on his body, taking in every single tattoo and scar, living proof of how many times he's kicked death's ass.

“Well, just think about... I don't know, tits.” He lets out a dry chuckle at the awkwardness in your tone, trying your best to keep it professional in the name of art. He looks down at you with pure amusement the moment he sees your hand drifting up, tracing the outline of his defined, muscular pecs.

You take a second to fully admire the view in front of you, absent-mindedly starting to play with his erect nipple, not registering the way his breath hitches. Simon looks like a gladiator— lightly tanned skin making his rippling muscles stand out greatly, becoming the virtual image of ancient Greek fantasies, a plethora of scars showing how often he crosses the edge of death.

“Gettin' a bit touchy there.” His playful tone doesn't save the mild embarrassment, about to let go of his nipple before his rough, calloused hand grasps your wrist, encouraging you to keep touching him.

“'S working.” Simon's other hand moves out of the way slightly, just barely enough for you to see his hardening cock, veins starting to become more prominent along his long, meaty shaft. He doesn't protest when you move his hand out of the way, getting a perfect look at him.

“That's... oddly interesting.” The awkwardness coming from you never fails to amuse him, only making his ego inflate by the second, even when you look down at your notebook to keep taking notes of his body's reactions.

“Does it feel weird to get a boner?” He thinks about it for a few seconds before shaking his head, holding back a laugh at the blunt questions. In the name of art, she says.

“Not weird, just... I don't know, bird.” The expectant look that you give him distracts him for a second, trying to think of a better way to explain it.

“Feels good. Bit tingly most of the time, and you can feel it... y'know, grow.” Explaining what getting a boner feels like isn't the weirdest thing he's done for you, half-lidded brown eyes focused on the way you simply nod and keep taking notes, using his words as inspiration for the erotic novels he knows you write.

The room is almost quiet for a few minutes, Simon's breathing becoming harder being the only sound, feeling your soft hands caressing every single inch of his skin, feeling him up more than he can take... and ultimately edging him without even being aware, stopping to take notes every once in a while.

“I can show you how a man jacks off, too. For the sake of art, yeah?”

[axeeglitter]

Uber Frat

Tom had driven this route a hundred times before. The streets near the university were alive with students barhopping, loud music booming from nearby frat houses. His Uber beeped as a new ride request came in from Delta Sigma Gamma, one of the more notorious frats, known for their cocky jocks and constant partying. He sighed, not particularly excited about the prospect of dealing with another drunk frat boy.

The rider’s name popped up on his phone: Ryan.

"Another one of these guys," Tom muttered to himself, already dreading the ride. At thirty-five, Tom was happy with his life. He was engaged to Sarah, his high school sweet heart, and they were planning their wedding. Driving Uber was just a way to save up a little extra for the wedding. He was a simple guy; routine, stability, and a future with Sarah. He had no interest in wild parties or the frat life he’d never had.

When he pulled up to the massive Delta Sigma house, a shirtless, muscular figure stumbled out, carrying the telltale swagger of someone who had downed far too many beers. Ryan was massive, broad-shouldered, thick arms, chest bursting out of his soaked tank top. His feet dragged a little as he approached the car, and when he opened the door, the powerful stench of sweat and musk hit Tom like a truck.

Ryan collapsed into the backseat, reeking of alcohol, but worse than that, his scent was overpowering, the smell of sweat-soaked skin and dirty gym socks filling the car immediately. Tom gagged but tried to keep it under control.

“Yo, driver!” Ryan slurred, kicking off his sneakers without a care and slapping his socked feet right between the two front seats on the arm rest “Take me to the next bar, bro.”

“Uh, can you put your feet down?” Tom asked, his voice tight with irritation.

Ryan didn’t even glance at him, wiggling his toes lazily. “Nah, man, you’ll get used to it. Just like everyone else. This is how it is when you’re part of the brotherhood.” His voice was thick with drunken confidence, a cocky grin spreading across his face.

“Look, man, I’m just trying to do my job,” Tom said, irritation rising as the smell intensified, like sour sweat and musk combining to form something nearly tangible.

Ryan chuckled, the sound low and mocking. “You think you’re better than us, huh? Driving your Uber, going back to your little pathetic, boring life, playing it all straight and safe. You don’t even know what you’re missing, bro.”

Tom glanced in the rearview mirror, trying to keep his temper in check. “I’m just trying to get you where you need to go.”

Ryan leaned forward; his eyes gleaming. “Yeah, well, maybe where you need to go isn’t where you think. You ever think about that? You’re just waiting for someone to show you the way.”

Before Tom could respond, Ryan started to laugh under his breath, a weird sound emitting from his mouth. The air in the car shifted, growing thick, almost suffocating. Tom felt his heart rate spike as a sudden, intense heat spread through his body, followed by a strange tingling sensation.

“What the hell are you doing?” Tom snapped, panic rising as his muscles began to twitch uncontrollably.

Ryan smirked. “Don’t worry, bro. You’re about to find out what it’s like to really live.”

Tom’s breath caught in his throat as the tingling spread, intensifying into sharp, searing pain. His body felt like it was on fire from the inside out, muscles spasming and bones popping. His hands, gripping the steering wheel tightly, began to thicken before his very eyes. His fingers lengthened, widening as his palms became rough and calloused, swelling with new, brute strength.

“No… what’s happening?” Tom gasped, watching in horror as his forearms bulged, veins popping out against his skin. His arms were growing, muscle piling onto muscle, forcing his sleeves to stretch tight against his biceps and forearms.

Ryan leaned back, grinning. “It’s starting, bro. You’re just getting jacked like the rest of us.”

Tom could feel his chest expanding, pecs pushing out as his once-slender frame grew broader and wider. His shirt strained against the sheer bulk of his chest, the fabric barely able to contain the growing mass of muscle beneath it. His ribs cracked, reforming to accommodate the new size of his upper body.

With a groan of agony, Tom’s spine elongated, forcing him to hunch forward in the seat as his height shot up. His back rippled with new muscle, his shoulders broadening into massive slabs of strength. The pain was unbearable, every bone in his body felt like it was being stretched and reshaped.

“Stop! Please, stop!” Tom begged, his voice shaky with fear, but his words only made Ryan grin wider.

“Why stop, bro? You’re looking real good now. Imagine how much the boys are gonna love you.” Said Ryan as he wiggled his toes.

Tom’s legs began to throb, his thighs thickening, swelling with raw power. His jeans ripped at the seams, unable to contain the bulging muscles that pushed outward. His calves, once average, now bulged with definition, covered in a layer of thick, coarse hair that sprouted up his legs, across his thighs, and up to his groin.

He felt a strange tug in his groin, and his breath hitched as his penis twitched, growing harder, swelling in size. His balls, once normal-sized, ballooned larger, filling with an almost unbearable pressure. The musk of Ryan’s feet, the overpowering scent that had once repelled him, now seemed intoxicating, and Tom could feel a growing hunger building in his chest.

“No… this isn’t me. This can’t be happening,” Tom whispered, his voice deepening, taking on a more masculine, gruff tone.

Ryan wiggled his toes again and crossed his feet, brushing Tom’s forearm along the way “Oh, it’s happening, bro. You’re gonna be just like the rest of us. You’re gonna love being with your bros. Trust me, man, it’s what you’ve always wanted.”

Tom’s mind screamed in protest, but his body continued to betray him. The hair follicles on his chest started to burn as Tom saw in the reflection of the mirror that his faint dark brown hair was turning clearer, taking a golden hue, almost disappearing in his skin. He saw the same happening in his armpits as they grew thicker and denser there. The scent of his own sweat mixed with Ryan’s musk, creating an overwhelming cocktail of testosterone that filled the car.

His abs rippled beneath his torn shirt, each muscle growing more defined until his midsection was a solid, chiseled six-pack. His body was drenched in sweat, the salty tang of it filling the air, and to his horror, Tom realized he didn’t hate the smell. He liked it. He craved it.

His face contorted in pain as his jawline shifted, becoming squarer and more pronounced. His cheekbones sharpened, his nose slightly thickened, and his brow became more prominent. His once-neatly dark brown trimmed hair grew wilder, curlier, messier style that looked perfect for a frat bro.

But the worst was yet to come. Tom’s groin pulsed with heat, his penis swelling to an obscene size. His balls hung low, filled with a primal need, a hunger for something more. His underwear strained to contain the sheer mass of his manhood, and Tom could feel his arousal building, stronger, hotter, and more insistent than anything he had ever experienced.

“No… no…” Tom moaned, but it wasn’t just the size that scared him. It was the desire. The growing lust, not for women, but for men, his bros. The idea of being surrounded by them, feeling their bodies pressed against his, touching, tasting, servicing them, it sent waves of unwanted pleasure through him as he was trying to restraint those foreign pulsion. Tom turned his head back to throw a look of pleading to Ryan, but the only thing he saw between his locks of curly blonde hair was Ryan gripping his own groin through his jeans while licking his lips looking at him.

Inside his mind, Tom was screaming, fighting to hold onto his old self, but his body was changing too fast, too much. His cock twitched, a bead of precum forming at the tip, staining the inside of his underwear turned into a kaki speedo. His new, massive muscles tensed, and every part of him screamed for release.

Ryan watched him struggle, a grin of satisfaction on his face. “You’re almost there, bro. You feel it, don’t you? You need to let go. Just blow it in your speedo, man, and it’ll all be over. You’ll be one of us.”

Tom’s mind rebelled, but his body was beyond his control. The overwhelming musk, the power coursing through his muscles, the heat in his groin, it was too much. He could feel his balls tighten, his cock throb, and his heart race as the tension built inside him.

“Come on, bro, I gave you a chance to really enjoy this all. Way too long…” Ryan urged, his voice low and commanding. “Fuck it, you wanted this. CUM!”

With a shuddering gasp, Tom’s body obeyed. His cock spasmed, and with a grunt of pure, animalistic pleasure, he came hard, his seed spilling into his speedo in a hot, sticky mess. The sensation was overwhelming, waves of ecstasy crashing through his entire body. His muscles flexed, his heart pounded, and his new frat bro self-emerged in full force. As the orgasm was subsiding, Tom’s clothes torn clothes started to vanish into pure manly musk, evaporating straight from his body and pushing the musk in the car even further. Tom stood there, his new kaki speedo damp with his cum. The outline of his huge cock still visible in the dampness of the tissue. Tom trying to find his breath as Ryan was still boringly stroking his cock and riding the hangover of alcohol and musk.

Tom’s conversion was complete, his body now entirely foreign to him, yet every part of it felt strong, powerful, and, worst of all, desperately needy. His new muscular frame was drenched in sweat, his speedo sticky and soaked with his release. His broad chest heaved, the musky scent of his own sweat mingled with the fresh cum soaking his crotch, the stench filling the car.

Tom opened his eyes after a while when his brain could connect the information around him. He tried to move to take a look but to his surprise he couldn’t do anything. IT was like he was frozen on his car seat. As he started to panic, Tom heard Ryan’s voice from behind him as he felt hands on his muscled sweaty shoulders. “I told you you should have let it go and accept it. But no, you had to fight… I’m sorry bro, but if you had accepted the changes, your soul would have been assimilated. Now you’ll have to live your life from the passenger seat. Too bad for a driver to be a passenger of his own life.” Inside, Tom was screaming in pure, abject horror. He could still feel everything, the slick wetness in his shorts, the stench of his own musk, and the weight of his massive muscles. But it was like he had been shoved into a tiny corner of his own brain, trapped as a mere observer while his new frat bro body had taken full control. He could see, hear, and feel, but he was no longer in command. “See? You should have accepted way earlier Tom, or should I call you Carter!”

Ryan leaned forward, inspecting his handiwork, and laughed. “Oh yeah, bro. You’re one of us now. Look at you—fucking perfect. Just wait until the other guys get a load of you.”

Tom wanted to scream, to shout at Ryan, but his body refused to respond. Instead, his lips parted into a cocky grin, and his voice, deep and full of arrogance, spoke words that Tom didn’t want to say. “Hell yeah, man. I’m ready. Let’s fucking go.”

Inside, Tom’s soul wept. He tried to fight, to claw his way back to control, but the frat bro instincts that now filled his brain were stronger, overpowering his old self. He couldn’t stop the way his muscles flexed instinctively, couldn’t stop the pulse of desire that rushed through him at the thought of being with his bros, couldn’t stop the way his cock throbbed with excitement at the idea of being used by them.

Ryan clapped him on the back, his grin wide. “That’s the spirit, bro. Let’s head back to the house, just got a text from Cassidy and she cancelled our date. That’s okay though, looks like our brand-new slut just arrived. The guys are gonna fucking love you.”

Carter shifted in the seat, his large, muscular frame barely fitting in the compact space now. His legs stretched out, thick thighs brushing against the dash as he shifted, adjusting his still-hard cock in his shorts. His skin felt tight over his new muscles, the hair on his chest and legs sticking to his sweaty skin, adding to the overpowering scent that filled the car. His body, now perfect for the frat life, responded instinctively, craving the approval and attention of the bros waiting for him at the house.

After a while, they were both back at the frat house, every step sent a fresh wave of musk into the air, the smell clinging to his skin, marking him as one of them. Tom hated it, despised the way his new body seemed to revel in the scent, in the sheer masculinity of it all.

The door swung open, and the other Delta Sig brothers were already lounging on the couches, drinking and laughing. As soon as Carter walked in, all eyes were on him, and the room erupted into cheers.

“Damn, Ryan, you did a fucking good job on this one!” one of the bros called out, eyeing Carter with a mix of approval and lust.

Ryan grinned, clapping Carter on the shoulder. “Told you guys I’d bring us a new hole to fuck to replace the last one. He’s fucking perfect, right?”

Carter’s frat bro instincts kicked in, and he flexed his arms, showing off his massive biceps with a cocky grin. His body responded to their approval with an almost addictive high, a deep, primal desire to be wanted by them, to be used by them.

Inside, Tom was screaming, but his body was lost in the moment, his cock already twitching in anticipation as the bros crowded around him, patting him on the back, feeling his muscles, and welcoming him into their ranks.

Ryan leaned in close, his voice low and teasing. “You feel that, bro? You’re one of us now. Doesn’t it feel fucking amazing?”

Carter’s mouth opened, and his voice, deep, confident, and undeniably turned on answered, “Yeah, bro. Feels fucking incredible.”

Ryan smirked, satisfied. “Welcome to the brotherhood, man. Now, let’s get you upstairs and really show you what it means to be a Delta Sig.”

As the group led Tom toward the stairs, the weight of his new life fully settled in. Inside, his old self screamed and fought, desperate to break free. But his body, now a slave to the desires of the frat, couldn’t wait to submit to his bros, to be used by them in every way. ______________________________________________________________ Hey guys! Hope you'll enjoy this story based on this prompt from an anonymous: "An Uber driver picks up a drunk guy with smelly feet who taunts him with his scent and tfs him into a bro to go out drinking with." Hope you like it! As always feel free to message me in dms or ask if you want me to write prompts or just talk. Have a good day! :)

[dylanshetaplanesandhcs]

Western Heart

It was the 1860s, You were an orphan at a small town in Texas, it was close to the Texas and New Orleans Railroad, but very little trains ever stopped by, your parents were killed by a gunman shortly after you were born and you lived all your life at an orphanage.

Life at the orphanage was you might say, cruel, not only were the other orphans making your life a living hell, but you were punished by the caretakers as you were a scapegoat for them, and as the years passed, you saw the little friends you made get adopted, but you were always seen as the runt, and grew up to your teen years without anyone.

You were out on Main Street to try and get something before anyone notices you were gone, you had no other choice but to try and pickpocket some money.

You saw a man standing their, his back turned, you decided to risk it and went over. Being as quiet as you can be as you reached out.

"And just what you think yer doin'?" The man said as he whipped around, you were frozen with fear as you were caught.

"N-Nothing.. I-I.. I was just.." You stammered out, still trembling. The man sneered, "You know what I do with crooks like you?" He asked before pulling out a gun at your forehead, you screamed in terror as he forced you against the pillar, he was just about to pull the trigger until.

"Leave that child alone!" A voice rang out, you both turned to see a giant of a cowboy walking towards you both. He was 7'6" tall, had a muscular build, huge pecs, thick thighs, a big butt, and a plump chubby belly that peeked out of his shirt, he had freckles on his nose, cheeks, chest, arms and thighs. His sky blue eyes were behind glasses as he tipped his hat, revealing his sandy blond hair and cowlick. "Don't you even think about putting a round in this poor thing." His voice was soft, but stern as he confronted the smaller man. "Y-Yes, sir, I'm sorry!" And he ran off, the bigger man adjusted his vest before kneeling to your level.

"You alright, kid?" He asked. You nodded, thankful that he saved you from a terrible fate. "Yeah.. Thanks for saving me, sheriff." He chuckled gently. "I ain't the sheriff around these parts, but I would take the job if I could."

You blushed, you don't know why but he felt familiar to you. "I don't know how I can repay you, Mr..." You tried to think of a name. "Alfred, Alfred Franklin Jones. Just coming by this town for a bit." He introduced, you smiled. "Thanks again for your help." You responded.

Alfred nodded with appreciation, "So.." He continued, "What's a child like you pickpocketing innocent people, hmm?" You knew you couldn't hide it, so you told him your story and why you had to resort to it. After that, Alfred sighed sadly, hugging you.

"I'm so sorry for you.." He said. "Nobody should go through what you had to do.." You hugged him back, wanting to cry, you have never felt this loved in your life. "I'm so sorry for what I did.." You said amidst your tears. Alfred just shushed you gently as he gently rocked you side to side.

After a while, he looked back at you. "Hey, how about this?" He said with a slight smile, you tilted your head in curiosity. "How about I become your papa? How about that?" Your jaw dropped once he said it. "You're for real?!" You asked. He nodded with a chuckle, "Yep, that way you can finally leave this town and come alone with me on my travels. I can teach you all the things you need to survive and we can even catch some bandits together, what do you say?"

He smiled, you felt tears forming in your eyes. "Yes, I would like that very much!" You said, Alfred smiled warmly, kissing your forehead. "Let's find your orphanage, shall we?" He said, taking your arm as you led him to the orphanage.

It was a long process, but everything was done, and this giant cowboy who saved you was now your new father, he led you to his horse, getting on it before helping you up and placing you behind him, you wrapped your arms around his waist, with your hands on his stomach, he liked the feeling of it.

"Ready to ride out?" He asked, looking back. "Really as I'll ever be." You responded. Alfred smiled, and guided his horse out of town, It was a long journey ahead, but finally leaving that town behind and living a new life with Alfred, newer, happier, and more heartwarming stories will come.

[noisyquokka]

Could I request a blurb with kevin from the boyz where we get stuck at home during a snowstorm but then eventually have to go back to work/school, the regular grind ig? Fluffy and cute stuff plz ^-^

The Place To Be

PAIRING - Kevin x GN!Reader

SYNOPSIS - Spending three days in the house can easily bring on cabin fever. Well, except when Kevin's around... It's even harder to get back on schedule when he's actively doing his best to keep you near.

WORDCOUNT - 1.9k

WARNINGS - Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, sarcastic comments/insults incoming (It's just that kinda relationship), just two (2) dorks doing cute shit together and being cute together, Kevin being a menace

A/N - So it's not a blurb (I'm basically incapable of writing anything under 1k words) but I hope you enjoy it all the same!💛 Edit: I'd like to formally apologize for thinking I posted this like 3 weeks ago when it, in fact, sat in the drafts 🤡 send me to the pit of flames, y'all!

"Good God, how many shades of the same yellow does one paint kit need!?" Kevin shakes his head, squeezing the tiny tube of Cadmium onto the palette. He's sitting beside you, working on a paint-by-number piece that he'd bought months ago. What better time to crack it open than today? You turn your head to the canvas, taking in his progress.

"Those are not the same shade, Kev." You point to the few yellows you assume he's referring to, along with the one he'd just added to his palette. "That's a light yellow compared to this one. This is more of a lemon." You reach for two others; Golden and Saffron. "And these are two different shades, babe."

"Golden, Lemon, Banana Cream, Pineapple, Pear. I don't see a difference!"

"And you call yourself an artist... pfft." It's a mumble that's loud enough for him to hear, one that earns you the bump of his knee into yours under the table. You chuckle in response, bringing your palm to rest under your chin.

His eyes rove over the canvas, and you can see the cogs turning in your boyfriend's head as he figures out how to twist this paint-by-number into his own little masterpiece. The box was labeled Cottage in the Mountains but you knew Kevin. He'd add his own little touch to the canvas in the end.

"I know I'm hot, but quit staring, babe!"

"Oh, so hot that the snow is still falling." you pipe up, sarcasm thick in your tone. Kevin places a hand on his chest dramatically, rubbing at his pec as if you've wounded him. He leans into you, pressing a kiss to your hairline before he diverts his attention back to the tubes of paint.

"Felt that one deep in my chest, at least five years off my life." He presses another kiss to your nose, finding the smirk on your lips when he pulls away. "You trying to kill me off early?"

"Ugh, you got me. I'm actually an assassin." You reach for one of the painting knives on the table, running your fingers over the blade like a villain in a movie. "Unfortunate that I have to break it to you when we're stuck in this house together, snowed in... no one to come looking for you..."

"Well, when you say it like that." he trails, taking the knife from you. He's so unbothered, too used to this back and forth that you two have conjured as your love language. The corners of your lips curl up in a grin, and you bring your hand up to cradle his jaw, pressing your lips against his cheek in a quick kiss.

"You are the only thing saving me from this hell. So thank you for staying with me." you say. Kevin chuckles, dipping his brush into the dollop of Cadmium.

"We live together, you know." 

"Well yeah, but you could've chosen to paint in the office or something."

"But I didn't." The paintbrush moves over the canvas with sparse flicks of a wrist, the man's attention taken up by the careful strokes of his workspace. Your smile hadn't faded by much, but watching him work brightened it like morning glories.

"No, you didn't." you murmur. You get up from your seat, carding your fingers through his hair before leaving a kiss on top of his head. 

It's a simple thing, really; with below-zero wind chills and a snow band that wouldn't let up, you two were stuck inside. The whole town had shuttered with the storm, putting the safety of the citizens above all else, which in turn, canceled any non-essential traveling. With the snow falling at a pretty good clip, plows couldn't clear the streets fast enough. Living in a cold climate long enough had humbled you, and you easily knew when it wasn't worth going out. It also taught you how to make a mean chicken and veggie soup. Speaking of...

The paintbrush halts its movement over the canvas, brown eyes sliding back to where you disappear into the kitchen. His stomach rumbles, those familiar scents of seared chicken and simmered vegetables distracting him from his work. Kevin finishes the bit of paint off before cleaning off his used brushes, standing from the dining table and padding after you.

"Need any help?" He smiles, watching the moment your head turns to find his form standing in the doorway. You wave him over, stirring the soup in the Dutch oven. Long arms find their respective place around your torso, pulling you slightly away from the stovetop flame.

"You're like a dog," you mutter, setting the ladle down on the counter. You turn to face him, his fingers sweeping your midriff with the action, leading him backward until his hip meets the island. "always sneaking into the kitchen, nosing around for scraps."

"Does that mean I get whatever my heart desires?" He leans against the marble, dipping his head down till his forehead bumps yours.

"Depends." you reply with a sly grin, hands sliding over the fabric of his hoodie. "What exactly are you looking for?"

Your question is met with a cheeky smile and a raised brow, strong hands slipping around your waist.

"Nothing too demanding, just you and me cuddling on the couch after we eat?" The corner of his mouth quirks up, and he cocks his head to the side. "And a taste of that soup?"

You twist away from his grasp, bringing your attention back to the stove. The soup simmers on medium heat, steam rising above the broth as you stir the menagerie in the pot. You hum to yourself, feign thinking it over. Kevin's arms catch you as you instinctively lean back into his chest, fingers trailing over your side. After a moment, the ladle is placed on the counter again, and you reach to the left to wretch the drawer open for a spoon. It's all the answer Kevin needs.

“Nothing too demanding?” you finally ask, a teasing lilt in your voice. The remark is too easy to pass up cracking jokes, and it earns you a breathy laugh as your boyfriend rests his chin on your shoulder.

"Maybe later, if you're feeling up to it." He matches your humorous teasing easily, following it with a kiss on your shoulder. You bite back a smile, taking the spoon to the pot with a careful hand, a sample taste that you blow on before turning to your boyfriend. You keep your free hand under the spoon as he takes a sip from the utensil, licking his lips just like a dog.

"Perfect!" he replies, eyes soft as he glances down at you. Fingers glide up the wrist that's holding the spoon, stealing it easily to go back for seconds.

"Biased!" you counter, reaching for the spice rack.

"For you? Always," Kevin admits, taking another sample from the pot. "But your comfort food always tastes the best."

"I'm not sure if that's an insult or a compliment to my cooking skills."

"Both." The word falls off his tongue quickly, and you scoff.

"Don't go eating it all, there's still ten minutes left on the timer!" You swat his hand away from the pot, stealing the spoon back with a half-hearted glare.

"Is that your way of telling me patience is a virtue?" he questions, taking you back into his grip. He catches the sidelong glance you spare - the shoulder that you shove back into him in retaliation - and he grins. 

"That's exactly what I'm saying." You take from the few spices you've used in the soup already, adding a little more into the pot. Kevin intently watches you work, a looming heat over your shoulder that warms you more than the flame in front of you. He doesn't let go of you when you finally back away from the stove, opting to pull you with him until he's once again leaning against the counter and you're pressed against his chest. With seven minutes left on the timer, you let your attention drift to the man clinging to your waist.

Large hands sweep up your back and pull you closer, brown eyes locked with yours for a brief moment. Patience practiced, his gaze briefly drops to your lips and then he’s leaning in, a gentle brush of his against yours that has you instinctually wrapping your arms around his neck. The warmth of his breath makes the hairs on your neck stand like electricity coursing through your veins. You nuzzle your nose playfully against his, earning yourself a lazy grin.

The space between you dwindles to nothing once he captures your lips in a kiss. It's soft and sweet, a simple little thing that has a smile pulling at your lips, and suddenly the kitchen is the coziest place to be. Kevin's ears twitch at the sound of your laughter, heard in between liplocks and small pecks.

The best sound he's ever heard.

It's when you lean into him and curl your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck that he pulls away, pressing his forehead into yours. Just in time for the timer to go off.

It's like this for the three days that you're stuck at home; a simple routine that you quickly grow accustomed to as the hours drag on. While you don't mind sticking it out with your boyfriend, you're not against the idea of racing out into the yard to bury yourself under the several feet of snow that has fallen. Kevin makes it bearable when he's got you wrapped up on the couch or in bed, nothing more than the sound of your collective breathing and tangled legs under blankets.

It only becomes a problem when the snow has ceased and snow removal has wrapped up.

"Kevin, baby, I have to get up!"

You're still in bed, imprisoned in your boyfriend's embrace while you watch the minutes quickly deplete for you to get ready for your shift. Kevin whines into your neck, his arms tightening when you try to pry them off.

"Don't you have sick days left?"

"Yeah, but-"

"Take a sick day." he pleads, eyes closed as he snuggles into you.

"You know I can't do that."

Cue the grumbling like a perturbed feline being chased from the bathroom sink. You can't help but laugh at the response, trying once again to escape the man's clutches. He only tightens his grip again.

"Kev, come on, now," you whisper, turning your head towards your boyfriend. "We've been stuck in the house for three days."

"Take a sick day," he repeats, mumbling the words against your neck. His lips are warm against the skin, nipping at the delicate flesh lazily before he lifts his head to meet your gaze.

"Please?"

It's hard to protest when he's looking at you like that; like you're his only reason for staying in bed another day. The heat of his body sinks into yours and you feel the protests on the tip of your tongue succumbing to the thumb massaging circles into your hip. To be completely honest with yourself, you'd be willing to skip work daily if you could stay wrapped up in Kevin's arms like this for the rest of your days.

You sigh softly, knowing your attempts to convince him to let you go are failing. The puppy eyes have won you over, and he'll melt any defenses you can muster up with them.

Your hand juts out for your phone, grabbing it from the nightstand. It's a quick unlock and a couple of taps, a quick call to your supervisor that you can't make it in due to the driveway being snowed in. A little white lie. When you hang up, you shoot your boyfriend a look.

"Happy?" you ask.

Kevin sighs contentedly, pulling you close as he makes himself comfortable again.

"Very."

Psst!! If you made it this far, thank you for taking the time to read my work 💕 I appreciate you!

[rottencoreflesh101]

Ah! you finally arrived to your apartment complex. It was a pretty decent place, very calm and quiet. You were the youngest resident of the apartments, everyone else was an elder person which lucky for you, they were all very kind ppl, a very nice community that helped each other out, like a big family.

You’ve been living here for a couple of months now, hmm around 3 to 4 perhaps? you cant really remember with all the tasks you have as the only person in your home. Anyways… you’ve noticed a few weeks ago… the new resident who moved in… he was pretty handsome.

He was a young fella’ had a balache hair from black to different tones of green at the tips, his skin was a greyish pale with a few black spots that looked like birthmarks that decorated his body, his body type… skinny but fairly muscular.. hm… he was very eye catching to say the least, he was… unique.

Focus Y/N! You pat your cheeks snapping back to reality. You hop off your car heading to the trunk to grab some groceries you’ve made… gosh y/n good luck carrying all that to the second floor of your apartment.

“Do you need some help?…”

You flinch as you quickly turn around to face the source of the voice, gosh it was him! You stare at him from head to toe to fully picture him, he was wearing a tank top which was cropped right below his pecs which showed off his skinny athletic body, he had bandages all around his arms and a few patches on his face. You didn’t wanted to seem rude and ask about said injury signs so you bit your tongue to hold it back.

The yellow eyed man stares down at you with a scoff as he realized you were looking at his body. “Tch, if you don’t like what you see then look away. I was just trying to be nice.” He seemed annoyed as he turned around to walk towards the apartment you both share residence from but you quickly hold his wrist, this made him flinch and cringe in pain as he pulled his arm back. Ah right! The bandages!

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean-“

“Save it.” He spit with venom but his face suddenly went back to his resting bitch face and let out a sigh.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean it to sound that way, it’s just… it really hurt hehe…” he chuckled trying to light up the mood as he scratched the back of his head.

“Its alright… I would really love some help, I don’t think I can carry all this to my apartment..”

“Alright.” He let out as he takes the bags you were carrying snd the ones left on your car leaving you with just your purse/bag to carry. You were pretty surprised a fragile looking man like him could carry so much…

As you guide him to your apartment’s door he breaks the awkward silence between you too. “Erm.. uh- my name’s Shabana Gyutaro by the way, I moved here a few weeks ago, I think you might’ve already noticed… socializing isn’t really my thing. Sorry if I came up as a creep”

“Not at all! My name’s L/N Y/N! Im so pleased to meet you Mr. Shabana” you said as you open the door of your apartment stepping inside. You look back at the entrance waving Gyutaro to enter, what a nice boy… You quickly guide him to your kitchen so he can out them down. “Thank you so much Mr. Shabana… you really saved me from the struggle hah!”

Gyutaro looked around your place inspecting every inch of it “Oh- Uh yeah- alright, no problem…” he seemed distracted until you meet his yellow amber eyes… “Miss L/N, do you live alone?” This question sounds innocent coming from him but you cant help to feel a shiver down your spine, your gut heavied and your brain panicked with over thoughts.

Your silence made his smile widen, creepily in fact, you noticed his canines, if you can even call them that, his full set of teeth were sharp. He took noticed of this and quickly dropped it “Oh sorry, I had surgery to have a set of shark teeth… uh edgy ikr? I know my appearance can seem quite… off putting?…”

“I-Its alright, I find you quite handsome..” you let out a bit nervous, ya felt like a rabbit in front of a big wolf, salivating over you as you do your best to play your cards right.

Those words made him froze in place then a smug creeped up on his face and he looked down at you with sinister half lidded eyes… like a predator toying with his prey…

Gyutaro approached closer to you, you stepped back realizing you are now bumping against the wall of your kicthen. He gets close enough for him to leans down to your level with the support of the kitchen’s counter and the wall, he had you cornered.

Gyutaro’s smile was enough to spook you… you could feel his breathing hitting your skin, you could even feel his eyes staring you like a piece of steak.

“What’s that neighbor?… you like me?…”

His face lighted up with a sinister joy, he haves you, you’re fucked.

“That’s adorable… pretty thing…”

[oliviaischillin1204]

church business

Pairing: Romantic Kelvin/Keefe

Word Count: 850 words

i never say this on fics of mine but since this has a chance of winding up in the main tags for such a big fandom: please read the tags, don't like, don't read. thank you!

~

It was official church business. Honest.

Or, at least, that's how it had started.

It had started with Kelvin working on a new lesson plan for youth group, with Keefe behind his shoulder chiming in with ideas as he followed his mid-morning yoga routine (which Kelvin respected the fuck out of him for, because most people underestimate the importance of keeping your body limber as you grow older, but not Keefe; and seeing as Keefe was back by Kelvin's side as assistant youth leader, he'd definitely need to be in shape for all of the gymnastics field trips and fire sword displays he'd be doing for the kids).

It had started with Kelvin suggesting a lesson on self-defense, both to help the children feel in control of their own bodies while also tying in a perfect metaphor about how learning to fight a kidnapper is the same as protecting your soul for Jesus. Or something. He'd figure out the exact wording later.

It had started with Keefe suggesting that he and Kelvin practice some moves together that they could teach the kids.

It had started with tussling on the mat. With gripping each other's arms, then shoulders, then waists. With grunts of exertion barely hiding mischievous giggles as they wrestled together like little kids. With Kelvin pinning Keefe to the ground, both of them pretending that it wasn't because Keefe would always let Kelvin win.

That's how it had started.

None of that mattered now, though, because now Kelvin was tickling Keefe so hard that all the other man could do was squeal and writhe underneath Kelvin's weight on his lap.

"Can't hear you, dude!" Kelvin cooed. His hands were locked onto Keefe's upper ribs, his thumbs pressed right in that sweet little spot just beneath each of Keefe's pecs. Oh, he'd always poked and prodded at that spot, knowing it would make Keefe smile and snicker and bat his hands away every time; but now was different, and now he knew he could get away with buzzing his fingers into that tickle spot over and over and over again. "Whatcha wanna say? Huh? You wanna say something?"

"B- brohohother Kel-!" Keefe couldn't get the words out. His legs kicked uselessly behind Kelvin's back, and though he'd gained quite a bit of muscle since joining Kelvin's ranks, he couldn't muster the strength to push Kelvin away from tickling him.

"Man, if only you'd just call me Kelvin, like I've freaking asked you a million times," Kelvin continued, "maybe it'd be easier to beg for mercy, huh? Yeah? You gonna say mercy, Keefe?"

Keefe shook his head. His blonde hair flew everywhere, sweat making some strands stick to his flushed cheeks. "I'm- ticklihish there, brother-!"

"Yeah, no duh, that's why I'm tickling you!" Jeez, Keefe was stupidly bad at fighting back. His hands were pressed against his face, like some joyful version of The Scream, and all his twitching and squirming and kicking his legs wasn't even enough to throw Kelvin off.

A particularly devious pinch had him throwing his back, nearly knocking his skull on the floor as he squealed and shrieked.

"Feels- good," he gasped.

Kelvin wasn't expecting the laugh that bubbled out of him in response. "Feels good? This feels good? Getting tickled feels good?"

Keefe nodded, eyes closed in rapturous joy as he let himself laugh and laugh. Kelvin had never heard him be this loud before- this free before. In the back of his mind, he wondered if this was anything at all like the sado-mashocistic underworld Keefe had lived in before Kelvin had saved him, but then Keefe snorted, and all thoughts promptly left Kelvin's head as he resolved to make him make that noise again immediately.

He didn't know when exactly he finally let up the tickle torture. All he knew was he eventually found himself trailing his hands up and down Keefe's chest as he partner took in deep, grateful breaths. The frantic beating of Keefe's heart thrummed through Kelvin's hands, electric and alive.

"You good?" he asked softly. Keefe smiled up at the ceiling, every line in his body relaxed and soft.

"I am beguiled," he said in his normal whisper-speak. "You are a wonder, Kelvin Gemstone."

"Pssh, come on," Kelvin said with false modesty. He waved his hand in the air. "Wasn't nothing special. I'm just happy I could make you feel good."

Keefe nodded. "Yes." A beat.

Then Keefe was thrusting his body to the side, sending Kelvin tumbling onto the mat with a shocked shriek. In an instant the positions were reversed, with Keefe atop of Kelvin's waist, and Kelvin was very suddenly reminded of how much Keefe had been training in Kelvin's home gym since he'd come to live with the Gemstones.

"Perhaps I can return the favor," he murmured, eyes glinting in a very un-Keefe-like manner. It made Kelvin panicked and nervous and sent so many butterflies to his tummy that it made him stupid.

Stupid enough to open his mouth and say, "Yes, please."

And honestly? Everything that followed after that wasn't very church-like at all.

[derireo-galge]

Sweet Giggle Of Yours | 1k | yoonmin✍️🏼

About some moments Yoongi and Jimin shared on and off cameras.

***

Jimin is infuriating.

They were all sat around the table, about to switch on the v app, checking their looks or scrolling through their phones. The younger was sat next to him, apparently very fascinated with the black t shirt Yoongi himself was wearing because he kept fiddling with its wide sleeve.

- What are you doing? - he drawled lazily. Jimin just giggled sweetly while continuing to lift the sleeve to trace his hyung's bicep and shoulder.

- I'm just an innocent observer, Suga-hyung.

His fingers were tentatively reaching further and further, blunt nails grazing the pale skin.

It was truly annoying. Because the moment he would look him in the face the younger would just cover his mouth with his cute stubby fingers and emit his melodious giggles and boy, was it getting to him. Indeed it was, because the dancer carried on during the live as well, but only with his denim clad thighs.

Yoongi was getting hot and bothered and all he wanted to do is to turn those sweet little laughs into songs of passion.

- Was it funny to you? - he whispered in Jimin's ear hours later while caging him against the closed door of his hotel room.

- Yeah, - the younger replied with the smirk on wet plump lips, - And totally worth it. 

* black dress shirt *

Yoongi looked so damn well in a black dress shirt.

It was a globally known fact, as well as his chest being a statement. It was nicely hugging his buff form, making his shoulders and pecs look especially delicious.

Jimin appreciated that a lot.

The material was a bit shiny but all the young man could think about is that chest, shiny and glistening, right above him. He was trying not to squirm too much and cover up his coughs with laughing when Yoongi was rubbing his knee or thigh, every touch igniting a wave of adrenaline and want inside him.

And how dare he do it while talking about a marriage drive through?? After they were done he almost ran towards his room, Yoongi hot on his tail.

With a soft clicking the door locked and they were left face to face, both panting, with reddened cheeks.

- Love the shirt, hyung, - Jimin sassed, trying to regain his breath, - Y-you look stunning.

The elder gave him a once-over.

- You're not so bad yourself, Park Jiminie.

- Yeah? - the young man giggled but was faced with the hand of his hyung lifted up in front of him.

- Don't, - he said curtly.

- What? - Jimin was dumbfounded.

Yoongi groaned, not moving his hand:

- It’s bad enough you look delectable as you are... but those damn laughs, Jimin-ah? - he looked him straight in the eyes, palm on his own chest how, - My heart can't take that!

- Oh, YOU! - Jimin laughed and pushed him to walk back until they landed on a soft bed, - off, everything off, right now! - he paused in the middle of sliding his slacks down his thighs, - but maybe... keep that shirt on?

Yoongi only raised his eyebrow up before complying anyway. 

*studio time *

- Two, three, four! - Yoongi signaled and pressed the record button.

Yet again they were in the studio recording a guide for a song.

The producer wasn't sure as of yet where this track will go or even how it will develop further. Maybe it was partially a good excuse to drag the younger in his abode to relish in the velvety flavour of his voice. Once they were done he saved the file and turned his full attention to the younger.

Jimin walked up closer and lifted his hand to grasp and gently tug at locks of his hair.

- It has grown really well, hyung, - he said, looking all over his head. - Suits you so nicely.

- You think so? - he rasped.

He liked it himself a lot.

- Yeah, you're gorgeous, - Jimin all but whispered.

Yoongi felt himself blushing.

Does he have to be so blunt all of a sudden?

- You just like teasing me, Jimin-ah, - he pouted and tried turning away.

He felt a strong urge to work on that track, any track in fact, so he could stop facing this pretty boy giving out compliments like candy.

But he couldn't move a single inch. In a swift motion Jimin grabbed the armrests of his chair to keep it in place.

He moved closer to his ear only to whisper:

- You blush so prettily, hyung. I have to see it closely. Where else do you blush? May I?

Yoongi didn't have to think hard.

He nodded in agreement and soon he felt dainty hands leaving playful touches and unbuttoning his clothes.

Jimin relentlessly teased and rubbed at the silky smooth skin, squeezing in all the right places, keeping his touches gentle but precise. Soon Yoongi had a lapful of the dancer, wriggling to settle comfortably and leaving featherlight kisses all over his neck and jawline.

His arms were circled around the elder's neck, hands playing with long silky locks, tugging and twirling them as he pleased.

- A-ah, Minnie, - he felt short nips on his clavicle and tried to hold himself from full on grinding up to the younger.

He grabbed his slender waist for support and tried to coax Jimin to relocate to the couch but with no avail.

- I'm starting to think you like this chair more than me, darling, - Yoongi grumbled, - If that's the case you can just have it, you know?

- I know, - the other replied instantly and okay, that was so obviously intentional, gods, Yoongi's blood pressure has never been this high.

He wanted to grab his lover in his arms and drag to their bedroom for a week or two.

Jimin leaned back to full on gaze into his hyung’s eyes.

- I do it because every time you come to sit here, right before your mind gets lots in work, I want you to have me in your thoughts. He said it with a beaming smile but his eyes were dead serious.

It was silent for a few moments, which Jimin used to his advantage and kept gently booping the elder's nose with his pointer finger.

- You're so annoying. - Yoongi said with finality.

- I know.

- You're infuriating me, - he whined.

Jimin snorted:

- Oh, I know.

- Every day I suffer because of Park Jimin.

- Must be fate then, - Jimin whispered so close to his lips, breaths mingling.

- I love you.

- I love you too.

The end

[peter-pantomime]

Stranger Things Fic Recs, Part 3

Part 2 (Steddie and various polyamories), Part 1 (Jonanceve)

Steve/Eddie

let it roll into the night

Steve hates the spring. Spring means allergies and rain jackets. Spring means he tracks mud into his car, means he's waiting for warmer days. Spring means it's not quite summer. The only bright side right now, in this particular spring of 1988, is Eddie. (It takes one year for Steve to fall in love.)

make me aware of being alive

“So, I’ve found God,” Eddie announced. It was more than a little inaccurate, but he didn’t know how else to bring up the subject. “Oh yeah,” Jonathan prompted. “Where?” Eddie chuckled. “Nah, man, I mean. I want to be more, like, observant, maybe,” he hedged. Jonathan raised his eyebrows, playful rather than mocking. “Look at you, ba’al teshuva.” Or: After the end of the world, Eddie starts building his Jewish home, and finds the people he wants to build it with

like a heartbeat drives you mad

Steve doesn’t have any tattoos. If he’s honest, he never really thought about getting one before. At least not before he knew Eddie.

ain't it exciting you?

Three days after saving the world, Eddie moves his black bandana to the other pocket. 

all the missing girls are hanging out without us

“Here is a riddle: the answer is one.” Eddie Munson lives, and dies, and lives again.

light my way

Eddie doesn’t like showing it when he’s scared. Wayne always knows, though. He knew every time Eddie appeared on his doorstep with no warning, small and trembling with a dirty, oversized backpack packed with snacks and worn stuffed animals. He knew when Eddie was taller, a little bit too skinny and too tough for his age, when his dad finally ended up in prison and the government finally let Wayne's kid be his kid. He knew when Eddie was in middle school, friendless and angry and paranoid, when Wayne stumbled upon a stash of porno mags while he was looking for drugs.XSo he knows now. {in which Wayne doesn't meet Steve until quite a while after he and Eddie start dating}

brutalist masterpieces

He turns, scooping up his sneakers as he goes, and climbs back over the rocks. Fifteen feet between them now, and their eyes meet. Steve’s got a paper bag of groceries under one arm, balanced on his hip like a sassy single mom, and he doesn’t drop them but he pales, looks like he wants to. Eddie sees his shoulders stiffen and he asks, hoarse, “Who died?” “You did,” Eddie tells him. Ten years on, in a town in Nova Scotia, on the edge of the Atlantic, Eddie finds Steve again, and also maybe himself.

Transfiguration's gonna come for me at last

“So, like, what’s up with your mailbox?” Trust Steve Harrington to waltz into your house, sprawl out on your armchair, and hit you with a whammy like that. Eddie pauses, midway through locking the door behind them. “What?” “Your.” Steve fumbles. He gestures to nothing, lips pursed. “Y’know, the thing on the wall outside. You always touch it when you walk by. I thought it was maybe, like, a tiny mailbox? But now that I’m saying it out loud, that sounds… really stupid.” (or, Eddie Munson and Judaism.)

thirty days

"Okay, you should probably leave.” Eddie says quietly, hand slipping underneath the blanket. His other hand reaches for the remote and he pauses the movie. “Why?” "Cause I’m going to jerk off.” Steve's mouth is dry. His body is heavy. “I don’t want to go.” “Fine." Eddie leans his head back against the wall, reveals the column of his throat. "Stay.” (Robin and Steve make a bet. Eddie is... unhelpful.)

Heavy Metal

Eddie’s gaze turns from limpid, innocent curiosity to something wolfish, gears turning in his head, “What if it was the other way around?” Steve blinks at him, stupefied, “What?” Eddie shifts his weight so he can bring his hand up, thumb stroking over Steve’s nipple through the soft cotton of his shirt. He’s wearing his blue and white polo, the stripe around his chest showing off the swell of his pecs. Eddie licks his lips, “If it was hot doing it, what if you were the one receiving?”

Lick It Up

Eddie lay flat where he was and took a drag. The tip was still wet where it had been in Steve’s mouth. Eddie felt like his body was sinking into something soft and comfortable, his limbs heavy, his head fuzzy. “We’re still not watching Crocodile Dundee,” he said, to the ceiling.

Blooms of the Darkest Garden

Steve is going to die. And because this is Hawkins, a town with an alternate dimension right up its asscrack, he isn't going to die in a normal way. No, instead he's going to die because he can't stop coughing up the most disgusting combination of Upside Down gunk and...flower petals? What the fuck is happening to him?

Play it Right

As much as he loves to play the cynic, Eddie has to admit that everything does mostly turn out okay, in the end.

Up the Punks

“What the fuck just happened there?” “I could ask you the same thing, Harrington,” Eddie hisses, jabs a finger into Steve’s chest. “Did you honestly bring me along as your plus one? To a date? With a guy who really thinks the Sex Pistols were on to something?” “What,” a date? Plus one? Steve doesn’t even know where to start. “What is a sex pistol?” “What,” Eddie says, parroting Steve’s confused tone back at him in a way that sounds unfairly boneheaded, “am I doing here, Steve?” (Or: Steve has good intentions, but does not realize that punks and metalheads are natural enemies)

the boys of summer

“Steve,” Wayne echoes. “This is my home. Eddie’s my boy.” And then he ruffles his hair with one large hand, coarse from years of working with them, in an action that reminds Steve of Hopper. “I’m gonna go down there and get my boy back. You’re gonna be my tour guide.” He holds his hand out for the final gun Steve has stashed, which he gives over reluctantly. He finds Wayne remarkably difficult to argue with—wonders if Eddie found the same. “Tour guides don’t need guns. You point at somethin’, I shoot it. Got it, Steve?” (Steve knows Eddie’s alive. Wayne’s the only one who believes him. So they team up to save him.)

Americana's Crusade

The third day in a row he sees expletives graffitied over an image of his own face—the post office bulletin board, this time, and there’s another errand Uncle Wayne won’t want him running anymore—Eddie waltzes into the Family Video and sprawls his whole torso across the counter. “I’ve decided I’m gonna live to a hundred,” he proclaims. “Why?” Robin asks, at the same time Steve says “How?” and Eddie grins, showing all his teeth. He’s taken to checking his brakes haven’t been cut every time he starts the van.  “Pure spite, baby. They wanna kill me, they’ve gotta get through me first.”

Rock of Ages

"Eddie's having a love affair with my stereo." "Don't make it sound so tawdry, Harrington. We're well on our way to a committed relationship." "Oh yeah? How's your guitar feel about that?" Eddie gasps in outrage. "Don't bring her into this."

[salemwritesxx]

𝓷𝓸 𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓱𝓲𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰.

𝔹 𝔸 𝕂 𝕌 𝔾 𝕆 𝕌   𝕂 𝔸 𝕋 𝕊 𝕌 𝕂 𝕀

     ⇴ male reader [pro-hero]      ⇴ all characters are depicted as [18]+

↳ summary: You are Katsuki’s little secret, since he can’t be open about your relationship. Inevitably, all falls apart eventually when you want to attend the pride parade in Tokyo and you want Bakugou to come with you.

↣ rating: general audiences ↣ warnings: bakugou being insecure about his sexuality, an argument/fight break-up in the beginning but fluffy at the end, coming out, fluff

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

“I just don’t understand why you won’t come with me?!”

“You know damn fucking well why!”, Katsuki argued back, his already loud voice reaching it’s peak. You had been fighting for quite some time.

“I just don’t know why the fuck you keep being so… stubborn! UGH!”, you really had to hold yourself back to not punch the next wall, thus you went away from the situation into the living room. Katsuki, however, following you immediately.

“You knew when we started dating that I… I can’t be open about this stuff!”, he screamed again, though became quieter at the end. His stiff shoulders relaxing a little when he sighed.

“Why can’t you understand and fucking respect that??”

“Look!”, you suddenly stood up again, meeting him eye to eye, “I understand, okay?! I know not everyone can be open, but fuck- Katsuki. It’s been almost a year since we started dating??”

You sighed and rubbed over your face before falling back into the couch.

“I just thought this time around I could already openly show my affection towards you.”

Bakugou felt guilty and bad. He knew he wasn’t easy to date. Always being cautious no one would see or notice. Always hiding. Just so no one would find out Bakugou Katsuki was into men. He knew he hurt you.

“I’m sorry, okay? But I can’t…”, he barely mumbled, then also sighed.

“Okay. Fine.”, and Bakugou really thought that’s it when you said that, but…

“And I am sorry but I can’t continue this relationship.”

And it truly was like someone punched him in his face and kicked him in his balls all at the same time.

“Wha- Wai- I- What?”, he stammered, ruby eyes widened.

“You heard me. I’m sorry. But I am done being treated like your dirty little secret.”, you said, and with that, you stood up and walked past him.

 ----

“HEEYY BRO!”, your friend shouted while semi-walking and kind of dancing towards you with two alcoholic drinks in his hand.

The music was loud. The temperature gruesome. But seeing so many people, proud and happy, made you also happy. It was also a nice way to try and forget what happened last week, the inevitable break up with your boyfriend… and you really thought you could give him strength to come out eventually.

“Thanks, Aki.”, you said, more shouted against the music, when he gave you something to drink.

While faking a small smile, you watched as he danced back into the crowd as you just walked on the sidelines, wishing that you could have brought Bakugou with you and just enjoy this moment. How much you yearned to just drink and be cute with your boyfriend during this parade so everyone could see and he wouldn’t care.

But it wasn’t that simple and it wasn’t your responsibility to force him out of the closet. But… it WAS your responsibility to do what was best for yourself and you knew you couldn’t keep on waiting.

.

Bakugou knew he had to do something. He loved you. And he wasn’t willing to give up on you or the relationship you had. Katsuki wanted to be together with you. He also knew very well that he shouldn’t be hiding anymore. He had been scared people wouldn’t want to be saved by him anymore, that his career as a hero would die if he was open about his sexuality, but… you had always been open. And yet, you were, just like him, in the Top Ten of Japan’s Pro-Heroes and there had never been an instance where someone commented on your sexuality negatively.

Maybe, he just lied to himself. People were much more accepting, even praising you for being an idol to young queer kids. But, for him, not wanting people to know you were together was safer than having to break up and explain things, yet… Katsuki was ready to get you back and tell everyone he loved you. No more hiding. No more lies. Just being honest and open and vulnerable.

But for god’s sake getting through this fucking crowd was almost impossible.

“Fucking Jesus, where the hell are you?!”, he growled to himself while hastily looking around. So many people. How did he think he was able to find you in such a big parade?

And it was so damn hot, too. Ugh! Why couldn’t he realize all of these things a few days ago, then he could have easily walked up to your door and talk to you, but no. Then again, Bakugou DID want to prove to you he was ready to change, so there was no better place than during this parade. Though, if he couldn’t find you, everything was in vain.

“KitKat…”

When he heard those words, a jolt went through his body, making Katsuki stand there stiffly for a few seconds, just to slowly turn around in the end. There was only one person who was able to utter this nickname without getting murdered.

You stared at him in disbelief just as much as he stared back at you with wide eyes and in shock. He wasn’t prepared to suddenly be found and not be the one finding you.

“What are you do-“, you wanted to ask, however, were interrupted by Bakugou sprinting towards you and into your arms. And it felt right holding him again – fuck.

“Wait, Kat-“

But before you could say anymore, he had grabbed your neck and pulled you towards him, connecting your lips in the middle of the streets while people were walking past you. Some even cheering and howling while doing so.

It was just a short kiss, before he pulled back to look into your [eye.color] eyes.

“I love you, [Your.name]. And I’m sorry. I know you deserve better, like fuck, look at me. I am trash.”

“You’re hot trash though.”, you teased him with a grin, thankfully making him snort and playfully punch you.

“I will be open. No more hiding. Life’s too fucking short to worry about what others think. Sorry it took so long to understand. Can you forgive me?”

The music was still blasting, the crowd cheering, yet, you heard him perfectly and it really warmed your heart. Thus, with a smile on your lips, you nodded.

“Yeah. Forgiven and Forgotten.”

So, you pulled him closer, your arms wrapped around his smaller frame as your lips collided once more, not caring about anything or anyone other than the man in your arms. And for Bakugou it wasn’t any different. He had never cared about anyone before, about their presumptions about him becoming a villain with his quirk, or him not being suited to be a hero, so why was he so hung up about being gay? Fuck it if anyone knew.

He wasn’t going to hide in any closet ever again.  

And as he grabbed your hand to march alongside you while singing and drinking – Katsuki knew it was the right decision and he would never regret it.

---

The next morning, he found himself hugged against your body while your head was snuggled into his pecs, which elicit a small snort from him. Yeah… waking up like that was something he had missed the last week. As he looked to the side though, Katsuki saw his phone blinking and lighting up wildly – something was going on.

And soon, he found out what had been going on. His agency was calling and he was tagged in way too many Twitter posts, because someone had snapped a photo of him and you yesterday during the pride parade, embraced and kissing. This was now going around the internet. But for once, he didn’t give a fuck about it.

Instead, he fueled the fire when he flopped back into the bed and snapped a photo of himself, flipping them off and with you visibly cuddling him. His caption: Just woke up like this. Happy Pride Month, fuckers!

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

@salemwritesxx || do not repost, edit, modify or translate my works

⇻ salem.talks: happy pride month y’all, let’s be loud and proud of who we are 🌈 usually I believe baku wouldn’t give two fucks about what others think about him, but for the sake of this story I might have made him a bit ooc

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

bullseye | got it bad, m | jjk, kth

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Kim Taehyung really regrets setting up his best friend with Jeon Jungkook, mostly because instead of dealing with one insufferable asshole, he now has to deal with two. He just wants you to come to his art exhibit and support him, and you show up looking like a pimp with Jungkook looking like your escort, sigh.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; you’re a cocky asshole and so is Jungkook; schemes, please save Taehyung; graphic descriptions of various sex acts, smut (fem reader, making out / dry humping / fingering in a public bathroom, threesome smut, mild restraint, nipple play, m-receiving oral, ass / pussy spanking, double penetration / spit-roast, facial, mild dom/sub themes, so much kissing); non-idol!BTS; fuckboy!Jungkook x bisexual, fuckgirl!reader; ft artist, best friend!Taehyung

yup, it’s Butter purple-haired ponytail JK and orange suit Taehyung

--

"You have got to be kidding me!"

"Oh, hey, Tae. How's it going?"

"Hey, hyung."

The voices, one irritated, one pleased, one mischievous, all three looking like the epitome of trouble and the eventual subjects of someone's wet dream.

Kim Taehyung marched over to you, purely indignant, his previous honey-brown hair now dyed to the color of black coffee, the long curls pushed back to reveal his forehead. One stray lock brushed against his dark, sculpted brows that were currently furrowed in annoyance. He stopped in front of you and your boyfriend, hands on his hips. He looked handsome as hell in a tailored orange creamsicle suit and gold earrings, white dress shirt neatly pressed.

"Why are you dressed like a pimp?" Taehyung hissed, jabbing your left breast through your dress. "Why are you dressed like his pimp?!" he added, pointing at Jungkook's smirking face.

You blinked innocently at Taehyung, lifting your oversized black fur coat sleeve to place a delicate hand on your chest, completely unbothered by his harsh reaction to your appearance. Your nails were a gradient from black to white, ever-so-slightly pointed, but not too long to be inconvenient.

Just enough to show you meant business.

Oh, and also you were wearing mock-neck, halter-style minidress that faded from black to white, molded to your every curve. It perfectly matched Jungkook's gradient black-to-white suit. Every step was accented with a sharp click, you in sleek black high-heels and him in glossy black oxfords, dangerous from head-to-toe.

Yes, Jungkook and you were that couple.

"Is that a t-shirt?" Taehyung snapped, switching to prodding Jungkook’s pecs, who grinned in response. You shrugged, the shoulders of your fur coat sliding down so that it now rested on your elbows, exposing your shoulders.

"He thought about not coming with one, but I advised him the other visitors would be too distracted by his sexiness to view your art," you explained, bowing as if you had done a great service.

"And I told her they would be to distracted with her amazing legs, but it's better not to cover them because I like looking," Jungkook chuckled, placing an arm around your waist and pulling you to him possessively.

Taehyung facepalmed.

"I regret paying matchmaker to the two biggest egos I know," he mumbled through his fingers, glaring at the two of you.

"Hey, we kept it low profile. Neutrals."

Taehyung pointed to your boyfriend's hair, pulled back into a sleek ponytail. "Hello? His hair is fucking purple."

You waved his comment away dismissively. "Well, besides that."

"You're a class-A asshole."

"Still makes me high class," you replied with a wink.

"This is really nice, hyung," Jungkook cut in between your bickering. "There’s quite a lot of people here already. I didn't know you were so talented and popular. As expected from my girl's best friend, eh?"

Taehyung winced, rubbing the back of his neck, ears turning red. "Eh... it's not a big deal..." he muttered, but you could tell he was enjoying the praise.

"Of course, it is, Tae," you chuckled, pulling out of Jungkook's grasp to hug him, squeezing him between your fur-covered arms. "You've worked so hard to be able to display your paintings at such a nice venue. I'm proud of you."

Taehyung laughed shyly, hugging you back. "Ahaha... thanks, as usual." He planted a light kiss on the top of your head. "I'm happy you guys came."

You grinned. "Indeed. You needed visitors to match the space," you drawled, sweeping your arms in a grandiose gesture to the glass cases of Taehyung's paintings, crisp white walls, and black marble flooring.

Taehyung rolled his eyes, smiling despite being over your antics. "Not sure I need a high-end escort and his pimp sauntering around..."

"When are your parents arriving? I want to introduce them to Jungkook," you interrupted, tugging on Jungkook's arm and making his cheeks flush pink.

"Like this?! Are you serious, my parents are going to have a heart attack once they realize there's a male version of you!"

"Aw, come on, your dad loves seeing me!"

"That's because you both are always up to no good... fucking always pulling pranks on me... I'm actually glad they're stuck in traffic now..."

-

You slid your thumb into his mouth, smirking as you heard his muffled whine. He was trying to stay quiet, staring down at you with half-lidded eyes, whimpering as you rubbed his tongue with the pad of your finger. One of your legs was hooked around his waist and he was holding it up with one hand. His other between your legs, fingers hooking underneath your panties.

“Fuck, I love looking at you, Jungkook,” you whispered, leaning forward, shuddering at the feeling of his saliva pooling around your thumb, your own tongue snaking out and tracing the air right between his open lips.

Jungkook moaned softly and shoved two fingers inside your tight, wet pussy.

You pulled your thumb out and crashed your lips to his, letting your satisfied exhale into his throat, your name trapped between his lungs and your hungry mouth, kissing him deeply as he plunged his fingers in and out, pressing your body into the wall of the bathroom stall. Shivers up and down your spine, back arching to feel even more of his chest against yours, frustrated at the clothing between you and him, but still hot and exciting, your hands circling his head and playing with his ponytail, rolling your hips into his rough thrusts.

You tried to break free and moan, but Jungkook captured you with his lips, forcing your noises into his mouth to silence them, rubbing his erection against your hip and thigh, the sound between your legs getting louder because you were getting wetter, closer, your eyes cracking open and seeing his half-open too, staring at you with lust and love, determined to push you over the edge, even in the men’s bathroom where Kim Taehyung’s art exhibit was being held.

Hey, you both waited until you had a nice, long conversation with Taehyung’s parents where his mom drilled Jungkook with questions about what he did and what kind of person he was. His dad, in contrast, seemed to approve of Jungkook and gave him a hearty slap on the arm, telling him trouble and trouble often went well together. Then you and Taehyung’s dad had a praise fest about his son, which made Taehyung turn beet-red in embarrassment. Both of you meant it all, of course.

But, also, both of you enjoyed embarrassing Taehyung in public. It was fun.

Yeah, dads loved you.

You couldn’t imagine why that was.

All that aside, after Taehyung's parents bid their son goodbye, Jungkook dragged you into the men's bathroom and began to make out with your face.

He contained himself for a few hours. It was a valiant effort, living off only groping your ass a couple times, but a man can only take so much when you’re looking like a five-course meal and he’s aware that you’re willing to let him eat, you know?

No? Oh, well.

Maybe that’s just your problem.

Also, yes, maybe you discreetly teased him a couple times by rubbing your ass on his crotch and pressing your tits against his back. Maybe.

You lowered one of your hands, cupping your fingers around his length, sighing in his mouth, feeling how perfectly rock-hard he was, knowing you couldn’t have it and he couldn’t give it to you, not yet, but soon, his deep snarl at your touch, fuck, kisses intensifying, shoving his fingers into you all the way to the knuckle, the wet squish audible and obscene, the adrenaline of danger and satisfaction creeping you closer and closer to your high. His thumb came up and grazed your clit, making you close your eyes and rock your hips into his touch, moaning his name into his own mouth, his force of his fingers pushing his thumb against your throbbing clit hard and fast, the scent of black coffee and lush dragon fruit on his skin and yours, mixing with the sweetness of your orgasm as you wailed in glorious triumph, clutching his head with your hand and his waist with your leg, your other one shaking with strain as each pulse shook you, squeezing his clothed length in your hand, wanting it and pulling back to tell him just that in hot whispers, his soft moan against your mouth, whispering back, your name and his desire, his dark brown eyes nearly black with lust.

“Shit, you know how bad I want to fuck you, right now,” Jungkook panted.

“Please don’t.”

Huh?

You raised an eyebrow at the annoyed baritone voice. “Taehyung?”

“Do you know how long I’ve been standing here, knocking on this bathroom stall, you absolute horndogs?”

You heard him gritting his teeth, his voice nearly a deep growl. You did what any natural person would do.

Reached over and unlocked the door, letting it swing open to reveal your and Jungkook’s grinning faces.

His fingers remained very firmly inside your pussy, barely covered by the hem of your dress. You swept your arm back so your fur coat was out of the way. Always considerate. Taehyung stood at the opening of the door, hands on his hips, orange blazer flaring out with his posture, immediately throwing up his hands and jerking his head away once he realized that, yes, of course, you two would not bother covering up anything.

“Fucking – shit, get your hands off her, man, go home to do that–”

Jungkook began to slide his fingers out, scissoring them with a wet squish and you mewled, slightly exaggerated and performative.

“Oh my God, never mind, stop, leave them in there,” Taehyung snarled, realizing he was facing the mirror and therefore could still see both yours and Jungkook’s smug smirks. He abruptly turned ninety degrees, now facing the wall, giving you both the side eye. “The fuck is wrong with you people? Do you have any decency?”

“Sure, we do,” you chirped.

“Yeah, that’s why we’re in the bathroom,” Jungkook added, softly rubbing your clit and making you bite your lip, enjoying it very, very much.

A muscle in Taehyung’s eyebrow twitched. “Public bathroom,” he snapped, rubbing his forehead. “Fuck, what if it wasn’t me who walked in here? What if It was some goddamn stranger listening to this shit?”

“Speaking of which,” Jungkook mused, cocking a brow. “Normal people would just leave. Why did you stay and listen?”

You didn’t say anything. You were simply happily grinding on his hand, the gentle pressure creating a constant ecstasy that you were completely satisfied with, one hand hooked around Jungkook’s neck, waiting for Taehyung to answer with a huge, amused grin on your face. Taehyung knew everything about you.

It almost meant you knew everything about Taehyung.

He rolled his eyes. “You act like I’ve never heard her orgasm before. Big fucking deal.”

Jungkook gave him a pair of incredibly wide eyeballs that indicated that, yes, that was kind of a big deal.

“Tae was my first kiss.”

“What?�� Jungkook blurted, snapping his head back to you.

You shrugged. “We were, like, eight. Just wanted to know what kissing was.”

Jungkook blinked very rapidly, stunned.

His two fingers were still inside you.

You scrunched up your face, thinking. “We were also each other’s first head and fuck too. Although it wasn’t very good.”

“You were a bit shit,” Taehyung interjected.

“It took you five whole minutes to aim. Even a watermelon would be dry at that point.”

Jungkook was still trying to process that you were each other’s first kiss with his fingers knuckle deep in your pussy. “W… What? Why aren’t you guys dating?”

You snorted. “I can’t do that. He’s like my brother.”

Taehyung stuck his tongue out. “And she’s like my sister. That’s weird.”

Jungkook finally yanked his fingers out of you and threw out his hands in disbelief. “And being each other’s first times for – shit, basically everything – isn’t weird?”

Your eyes flickered to Jungkook’s soaked fingers, your cum stuck between them in viscous strings. Ooh, sexy. You licked your lips, breaking out in a pleased smirk. Taehyung spied what you were looking at and facepalmed. Jungkook seemed to notice too and turned to look at it, suddenly forgetting the whole discussion.

And put his cum-covered fingers into his mouth, moaning deliciously around them.

Taehyung made a horrified face in the mirror, making eye contact with you.

“Um, gross!”

“Eh, shut up, Tae, not like you haven’t done it in front of me before.”

“Well, I don’t wanna watch Jungkook do it,” he shot back, spinning around to glare at you. “He’s your boyfriend!”

You quirked an eyebrow. “You’ve seen other guys do it before when we’ve had threesomes. Plus, you’ve watched me open my mouth with other men’s cum in it so you could cum in my mouth too.”

Jungkook choked on his own fingers.

“WHAT?” he roared.

“You weren’t serious about them!” Taehyung flicked his hand, completely ignoring Jungkook. “And you’re my go-to when the girls I’m seeing want to experience a threesome, so I was just doing you a favor!”

Your boyfriend was having a mild heart attack and neither you nor Taehyung seemed to notice, too busy bickering about your strangely integrated sex lives.

“What’s the difference? It’s just Jungkook. You guys are friends.”

“Yeah, extra reason why I don’t want to sit around and imagine him slurping from your vagina. I gotta look into his eyes later!”

You raised your hands, shaking your head. “So what? You’ve seen my other sex partners in public and never said much about it. Why are you making such a fuss now?”

“Because!” Taehyung flung his hands, stamping a foot on the tile floor in frustration, his handsome features twisted into despair, hands on his head and messing up his dark brown hair. “Because you’re going to stop being my friend now that you’re serious about someone and I can’t do anything about it because that someone is Jungkook and I actually like the guy! I’m fucking happy for you and shit, but, fuck, fuck, what am I gonna do when you’re not in my corner anymore?”

Your jaw dropped, shocked.

“Tae, what are you talking about–?”

He spun around, about to run out, but you were faster, grabbing his arm and pulling him back, yanking him into a fierce hug. And, just like that, Taehyung was that awkward, weird kid in elementary school again, not wanting to admit he was scared and frightened of the big mean boys teasing him about his odd drawings and strange thought processes, calling him a dorky alien. He grabbed your shoulders, shivering, holding back tears.

“No one’s gonna protect me…” Taehyung sniffed, burying his face in your hair. “If you’re gone, I can’t be brave…”

“Hey, you know that’s not true,” you chastised lightly, squeezing him. “You’ve become strong, all on your own. You know that. That whole exhibit is filled with your art. You even got offers to buy some of your pieces. Isn’t that amazing?” You pulled back and placed your hands on Taehyung’s cheeks, smiling up at him kindly. He still looked gloomy and uneasy, lower lip sticking out. “Come on, you know I’m right, Van Gogh,” you teased, pinching his cheeks a little. He fidgeted, frown lessening. “I will always, always be in your corner. No matter what. No guy is going to make me stop being friends or supporting you. You need me to knock someone’s front teeth out, give me the time and place and I got your back.”

“That’s going to send you to jail,” he muttered, smiling slightly.

“Then I’ll go to jail. That’s just glorified detention because they give you free meals.”

He laughed, still with a tinge of anxiousness. “You promise you won’t stop being my best friend over some guy?”

You grinned. “You’ll always be my best friend, Tae. I just happen to really enjoy his company and his dick. You know, a girl has needs.”

He stuck his hand out childishly, pinky sticking out. “Pinky promise me.” Then he stuck his other hand out. “Actually, double pinky promise me.”

You crossed your wrists over each other and pressed your pinkies to his, squeezing his hands tightly.

“I promise I’ll always be your best friend.”

“Uh, guys, you’re kinda making me feel like a third wheel…”

Jungkook might as well have been a bathroom sink to Taehyung and you in this moment.

Taehyung nodded firmly to you. “Okay. You promised. You better keep it.”

You rolled your eyes. “When have I ever broken a promise to you?”

“Hmm, I guess you’re right…” All of a sudden, he looked down at your hands and wrenched his own out of them. “Oi! Where have those hands been, young lady?” He looked at his open hands with a repulsed scowl. “You better not have touched his dick and then my hands without washing yours! That’s disgusting!”

“Hey, I take offense to that,” Jungkook retorted heatedly. “My dick is perfectly clean and she didn’t get to touch me yet because you busted in and interrupted us–”

“What are you going on about, you’ve touched my hands after I’ve given handjobs! I didn’t hear you complaining!”

“He’s done what–?”

“I keep telling you that’s different, this is Jungkook, a man you actually love, and here I thought you were incapable of that.” Taehyung spoke over Jungkook, jabbing his finger into his palm to drive his point home. “You get that sparkly shit in your eyes when you talk about him and it makes me want to puke–”

“I do not get sparkly shit in my eyes, what the fuck does that even mean?”

“You literally will not shut up about how pretty he is!”

“He is pretty! Look at him!” You banished your arms in Jungkook’s direction like he was your first-place trophy on display, which he might as well be at this point with how much attention either of you were giving him. At least he looked the part.

Taehyung rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, throwing his whole head back. “I can give you pretty. You’ve been telling me I’m handsome all my life.”

“Why don’t we just have a threesome?”

Silence.

Both you and Taehyung jerked your heads to Jungkook, jaws dropped at his suggestion.

The door to the men’s bathroom opened and an old man bounced in, humming to himself.

He saw you.

He stopped, tilting his head. Then he looked from Jungkook to Taehyung and wiggled his eyebrows.

“Love triangle or sexy night, boys?”

Taehyung choked on air. “Not a love triangle.”

“Oooh, sexy night.” The old man gave you two thumbs up. “I’d love to join, but I’ll back out this time.”

You laughed heartily as Jungkook and Taehyung grabbed your arms, pulling you out of the men’s bathroom, not about to discuss a possible threesome in front of some old guy who vaguely offered to make it a foursome.

You made sure to give the old man a wink, sticking your head back in the open door to say, “Maybe next time, eh?”

The old man cackled and Taehyung slapped a hand over your mouth, dragging you out.

“Please shut up, I fucking swear…”

-

“So, why is it different?”

Somehow both you and Jungkook had dragged your best friend into your apartment and tied him to a chair. One of those nice wooden ones with plenty of openings to slip cotton rope through. Probably not what Kim Taehyung thought he was going to do right after his art exhibition, but judging by his peeved, unsurprised face, it wasn’t a completely unexpected result either.

You had pulled up another chair to sit in front of him, still wearing your fur coat, knees between his knees, mostly because Taehyung was forced to spread them because of how you tied the knots.

“I think I hate you,” Taehyung muttered.

“Nah.”

“At least a little bit.”

You slipped the shoulders of your coat down, exposing your skin, casually crossing your arms under your breasts and leaning forward, smiling sweetly at Taehyung. His dispassionate face basically said, ‘go-suck-your-own-dick’. He tried to pulled his arms free.

“Don’t rip your blazer.”

“Bite me.”

“You gonna answer my question?” you asked, redirecting the conversation.

Taehyung clicked his tongue. “I told you. It’s because I can tell you love him.”

You broke your playful demeanor for a second, smiling broadly. “Really?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, you dork.”

“I don’t know if I’ve ever felt like more of a third wheel in my entire life even though you’re talking about how much you love me,” Jungkook said behind you. He was sitting on the couch, as the chairs had been repositioned in the living room.

Taehyung pursed his lips. “That’s why I got scared, you know…” He leaned forward a bit, pouting. “What if you spend so much time with him that you forget about me? What if you guys break up and you blame me?” If he was untied, he would be nervously picking at his lower lip with his right hand right now. Instead, he chewed on it, worried expression clouding his strong features.

You shook your head, reaching out to fluff his brown hair. “You think too much. Why would I blame you over a breakup? If anything, I’d be dragging you out so you can help me keep a record of how many people I can fuck in a night.”

Taehyung made a face. “Why can’t you be normal and cry while eating chocolate?”

“You know I don’t like chocolate.”

“You don’t like chocolate?” Jungkook choked in disbelief.

“I have to fuck my problems away, Tae. That’s the best way to deal with them.”

He rolled his eyes. “You need to see a therapist.”

“Nah, I got you.”

Suddenly Jungkook’s face appeared because you two, sitting on the coffee table.

“How do you not like chocolate?” he pressed, staring at you.

You blinked at him. “I mean, I don’t hate it. I’m just not crazy about it like some people. Isn’t that better for you? I can give you all the chocolate that I receive.”

This thought didn’t seem to have crossed Jungkook’s mind. He grinned, highly pleased with this result.

“You’re even going to give him your chocolate?” Taehyung gasped, affronted. “That’s it, this friendship is over. I can’t believe you would betray me like this!”

You placed your hands on his knees. Taehyung huffed.

“You want me to untie you now?” you asked, patting his thigh and ignoring his dramatic outburst.

“Why? I thought we were going to have a threesome.”

Both you and Taehyung whipped your heads to blink at Jungkook. He smiled innocently, which did not look innocent at all with his sleek purple ponytail and mischievous eyes.

“Nobody agreed to that.”

“Yeah, Jungkook,” you sided with Taehyung. “Nobody agreed to that.”

“Aw, come on,” he nudged, grinning. “You guys have obviously touched each other before, right? And I can totally trust hyung not to fall in love with you.”

“Because my preferred type wouldn’t hump me in a public bathroom,” your best friend muttered.

“I’m sensing judgement here, Kim Taehyung. Watch your mouth,” you warned.

“Choke on my dick.”

“We can start with that,” Jungkook chirped cheerfully.

“Why do you want this, anyway?” You narrowed your eyes at your boyfriend. “You never expressed any interest in threesomes before. I assumed you were too selfish for that.”

“I am.”

You raised an eyebrow.

Jungkook grinned devilishly.

“But I also wanna see you get spit-roasted.”

“Don’t–” Taehyung began.

Jungkook spread his legs, revealing his erection straining in his slacks. Taehyung snapped his head away, groaning an annoyance, disappointed but not surprised that your boyfriend had zero shame. Jungkook bit his lower lip, tiny mole underneath quivering, excitement and lust in his dark brown eyes, looking right at you eagerly. He purred your name. Taehyung visibly cringed.

“You know I would…” you drawled softly, reaching over to squeeze Jungkook’s thigh. “But I don’t think Tae is into it right now.”

“Yeah, I’d only do it if I was horny and desperate.”

“Then why do you have a boner?”

Both you and Taehyung whipped your heads down to see his dick trying to bust out of his pants.

He glared at it. “You traitor.”

“Are you talking to your dick?”

“Look,” Taehyung snapped, letting out a puff of breath and frowning at Jungkook. “I’m not immune, okay? She’s hot, sure. Absolutely one of the sexiest, most beautiful women I know.”

“Aw, so sweet!” you interrupted, smacking his leg in mock bashfulness.

“And,” he gritted, shooting you a scowl. “I might be horny and desperate, sure.”

“So, what’s the problem?” Jungkook inquired, smug smirk on his face.

“Well, you’ll get jealous, for one.”

Jungkook blinked, confused. “What?”

“Taehyung has a big dick.”

You said it so nonchalantly that Jungkook was speechless.

“Mhm.”

“Not as nice as Jungkook’s dick though.”

“Excuse me? I am offended.”

“You honestly need to improve your technique. You think your size alone is all that matters? Jungkook’s the whole package, great dick, cute smile, diligence, strength, always up for anything, perfect duality–”

“Shit, shut up about him, I get it, he’s the hottest thing to walk on this earth, now stop verbally jerking him, he’s not gonna agree–”

“Kiss him.”

You and Taehyung froze.

Eyes flickering to Jungkook, who raised an eyebrow challengingly.

“Kiss him,” he repeated.

Eyes back to Taehyung, who was breathing hard.

“Only because I’m horny and desperate,” he growled.

The corner of your lips ticked upwards.

“Got it bad, eh, Tae?”

You placed your hands on his thighs, sliding down, rising off your chair. You felt Taehyung’s muscles tense, narrowing his eyes. He tried to keep up his severe front, borrowing your tendency to use arrogance to hide your true feelings.

“Isn’t that you?” he challenged. “Need me to satisfy you even though you have Jungkook now?”

You smirked, seeing right through him. “You always give me such blessed service though.”

Something flared in his brown orbs, pupils expanding as you neared. “Don’t.” Your head tilted at his tone, almost pleading, and still you advanced, your soft inhale ghosting his lips. His gaze was on your face the entire time, swallowing hard, anticipation creeping into his stern expression.

“Don’t what?” you whispered teasingly.

“Don’t say it in front of him.”

“But you like it.”

“Yeah, well, he doesn’t need to know my embarrassing turn-ons.”

“What if I slip?”

He clenched his jaw. “Fuck, fine, whatever.”

Your hand reached up to cup his cheek, licking your teeth slowly, maintaining eye contact. Your words a low hiss, laced with pure lust.

“My good little angel, let this devil corrupt you.”

Taehyung whimpered and you closed in on his lips, kissing him deeply, straddling his lap, rolling your hips into his, voracious, greedy kisses, Taehyung gasping in your mouth as you bounced on his crotch, your spread legs causing the hem of your dress to rise, popping over your ass, moaning into his mouth as you worked him under you, his body familiar and comforting. His tongue encircled yours, whining for more, and you mumbled sweet nothings to him, remembering all the things he loved to hear, and he gave you all the things you loved, the neediness in his kiss, the desperation of his hips rising to add more friction. You weren’t exactly immune to Taehyung either. You could control yourself, normally.

But Jungkook gave you the green light, so you went all in.

Your hands were in his hair, tangled in the strands of black coffee, murmuring in his lips, sweet angel, and Taehyung moaned, fiercely thrusting his hips up and you sitting down on it, already wet, sighing satisfyingly at the feeling of his impressive length straining to reach your dripping heat, too many layers of fabric between them.

“Such a good boy doing such bad things,” you purred against his lips, amused at seeing your lipstick all over his mouth.

Taehyung looked up at you with glazed brown eyes, a tinge of unease in them. Maybe he didn’t want to show Jungkook his vulnerable side. You could understand that. You didn’t mind playing your role but Taehyung was more guarded. He didn’t like to be criticized or judged for the things he liked. You noticed his gaze flicker to Jungkook and then back to you.

You tilted your head and cradled his, running your fingers through his hair. “You want me to stop, I’ll stop,” you cooed gently, kissing his ear.

“I don’t want you to stop,” he breathed, so quietly you barely heard it. “I don’t want him to judge me.”

You chuckled. “I wouldn’t worry about that.”

Taehyung made a disbelieving noise.

“Something wrong?” Jungkook asked behind you, sounding curious and confused that his show was paused.

“Mhm, need you to take my coat,” you replied, pulling back, lowering your arms so Jungkook could stand behind you and remove it. You slid your hands out elegantly, seeing Taehyung’s messy dark hair and lipstick-stained lips. You heard Jungkook back up and you reached into Taehyung’s blazer, pulling out his handkerchief and dabbing at his mouth, carefully wiping it off.

“We can stop,” your reminded him gently.

“No,” he growled, frowning. “I’ve got a massive boner and it’s all your fault. Get me off.”

You grinned. “Alright, angel.”

You saw Taehyung bite his lip, shivering at your words. You couldn’t remember how this started, but it always worked. The roleplaying helped with the whole ‘having-sex-with-your-best-friend’ thing ten times less awkward, and it made it much easier for him and you to get off.

Unfortunately, it also was starting to make both of you much hornier while having sex with each other.

Whoops.

He clicked his tongue, raising his head, eyebrow cocked.

“Dirty little devil.”

You smirked. Taehyung’s voice was always sexier when he was aroused, deep and sultry.

One by one, you undid the buttons of his dress shirt, kissing at his exposed chest, the deep rich tone of his tan skin standing out against the white, his eyes closing at your touch, running your tongue down his sternum and blowing on it.

He shuddered, moaning your name, long and sweet.

You shifted, intending to push the chair behind you back, but it was gone. Instead, your ass backed up into a pair of very muscular legs. You paused, turning your head to see behind you.

“Jungkook–”

A firm hand stopped you, forcefully jerking your head back to Taehyung’s chest.

“Look forward,” Jungkook commanded.

A shiver down your spine at his tone. You smirked, peering up at Taehyung, who smiled.

“He jealous?”

“I’m not,” Jungkook snapped, grabbing your ass.

“A little bit,” Taehyung chuckled, and now he was smirking too.

Eerily similar to you, because who else would he learn such a devious expression from? You taught him well. You hummed, yanking Taehyung’s shirt open and pushing it to his shoulders, his naked torso now exposed to your eyes and mouth.

“Can’t imagine why. This was his idea.”

Taehyung jerked his head to you as you lowered yours to his chest. “What?”

But your lips closed around his nipple and he gasped, sputtering, confused, and then moaning as you moaned, Jungkook yanking down your panties and slapping your ass with his open palm, the sting added to the disapproving hiss of your name.

“He’s not supposed to know. I didn’t do all that acting for nothing,” he snarled, and your response was wiggling your ass, nipping your teeth over Taehyung’s chest, his handsome features twisted in ecstasy and pleasure, the tip of your tongue teasing his other nipple, pushing it around with your strong, wet, warm muscle.

“Whoops.”

Taehyung narrowed his eyes at you and your not-so-innocent tone.

Jungkook clicked his tongue. “Such a bad little devil. You need some punishment.”

“He already knew?” Taehyung gritted, glaring daggers at your grinning face, saying nothing, your deft fingers undoing his pants. “Answer me, woman.”

Jungkook was positioning your lower half, ass up, legs spread, pussy exposed to his eyes and hand, your dripping core tense with anticipation. When he spoke, his voice was deep and silvery, laced with danger and desire.

“Answer him.”

And he spanked your pussy, making you cry out and leak between his fingers, the sudden sting of pain so nice, and you had the audacity to continue giving Taehyung that infuriatingly smug expression as you dragged his pants and underwear to his knees, freeing his stiff length that stuck straight up, your body repeatedly lurched forward by Jungkook’s open palm on your soaked slit, your juices splattering on his hand and the inside of your thighs. With a smirk, you lowered your head.

“Mhm, he knew… ah, fuck, yes, Jungkook, just like that…” you sighed in satisfaction, tongue snaking out and wrapping around the head of Taehyung’s cock, bobbing your mouth up and down like that, stimulating just the tip, paying extra attention to the underside of the head. “Sorry, Tae.”

“Swallow me whole,” he growled. “Now.”

You were ready to do it, of course, but you felt Jungkook’s hand clap onto your leaking, heated pussy lips, and the other danced up your back, so you waited, letting him grab your head and push you down, not quite as roughly as he would have if he was actually being mean, but with enough pressure that you knew he just wanted to do the physical action, wanted to feel the power even if there was no maliciousness behind it.

Your lips closed around Taehyung’s pulsing, hard length, taking it all, a familiar girth stretching out your jaw. You made a light gagging sound as the head hit the back of your throat, not quite suffocating, but enough to indicate, stop pushing me, and Jungkook lifted the weight off your head, still gripping your hair, messing up your perfected style of the night.

“That’s a good girl, swallowing all that dick,” he purred, sliding a finger into you.

You whined, clenching your walls around it, squeezing tight, wanting more.

“Suck.”

You did, obediently, looking up at Taehyung, his head tipping back, low moans escaping his throat as your tongue squirmed at the base of the head in your throat, muscles clinching around his cock, your lips around the base. You swiped your tongue down, stretching it out even farther, past your lips, slurping nosily at his balls, flicking them rapidly with the tip, feeling him get harder and harder, twitching against the roof of your mouth, bending a little due to the lack of space.

“Fuck, let go of her head, fuck!”

Jungkook released you and you grabbed Taehyung’s hips, starting a fast, intense pace, swirling your tongue around his cock, another long finger wiggling into your slick folds, thrusting into you from behind, your legs shaking with strain, Taehyung moaning louder and louder, filling up your apartment with his lust.

“Don’t fucking stop, fuck, you have the devil’s tongue, a-ah, it’s so fucking good…”

Jungkook scissored his fingers in you, the squelching sound loud and lewd, and you spied Taehyung tipping his head back, panting, watching Jungkook finger you from behind, his other hand smacking your ass periodically to watch it bounce and hear you moan, your hips bucking back into his hand every time you ascended from Taehyung’s cock.

“Give her another,” he gasped. “Stuff her more.”

Jungkook snickered. “For an angel, you’re all about the punishment, hm?”

But he did as he was told, shoving another finger in you and you whined, nearly popping your mouth off Taehyung’s thick length, stopping only because of imposing baritone.

“Don’t you fucking dare. Take it all. Or are you telling me you can’t? Telling me you’ve lost your touch?”

You went back down, narrowing your eyes, rising to his challenge. Your best friend knew everything about you and therefore he knew that the second he made it a question of your ability, well, that brought out the best in you.

“Fuck!”

Also made you almost vacuum his dick, but he asked for it.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuuuuuuuck!”

Tighter, faster, tongue all over, nearly forgetting Jungkook was touching you at all because Taehyung had doubted you and you weren’t having that shit, fuck no, not even with Jungkook’s free hand snaking between your legs and feeling for your clit, rubbing it at the same furious pace you were blowing Taehyung’s jerking cock, tipping your head back and angling it so the head scraped against the roof of your mouth, locking your knees to prevent the shudders of pleasure from ruining your rhythm, so good, fuck, feeling so good with the pumping of Jungkook’s powerful fingers, electric satisfaction radiating from your throbbing clit, clutching Taehyung’s hips so hard he was getting indents from your nails, determined to get him there before you, and, by the sound of his breathless cries of your name and the trembling of his impressive girth, he was there.

“Yes, a-ah, you’re so good, so fucking good, I’m gonna cum, oh, fuck!”

His orgasm exploded, flooding your mouth with a gush of saltness, thick strings of cum painting the back of your throat, and you gulped it all down greedily, eyes rolling back, the tense coil inside you snapping and drenching Jungkook’s hands with your own orgasm, your legs unlocking and giving out, shaking and flinching as wave after wave of vicious pleasure flooded through you, Jungkook’s strong arms holding you up, moaning at the feeling of your pussy convulsing around his fingers, still lightly rubbing your clit through your orgasm, whines and whimpers crammed in your throat due to Taehyung’s cock in your mouth, sliding all the way to the base and swallowing around it, because you knew he loved it, wanted it, craved it, groaning carnally, the head swelling and pulsing, nearly suffocating you.

“Feels so f-fucking good… a-ah, yeees…”

You stayed in the position for as long as you could, a good minute, before backing up with a choked gasp, clutching Taehyung’s thighs, eyes drifting up to his and he looked down at you, fucked-out, content, grateful, black-brown curls falling all over his forehead and cheeks, so casually sexy and perfect.

“Good angels always taste the best,” you rasped, licking your abused lips.

Taehyung grinned.

“Untie me, devil.”

“Damn, you do have a big dick.”

“… Stop looking.”

“Why? I wanna see what she put in her mouth.”

You teased the head with the tip of your tongue, smirking. Taehyung looked away, ears turning red.

“You two are shameless.”

“Yeah, but you like it,” you laughed, straddling his lap, casually leaning over him to untie him. You heard Jungkook make a clicking sound and you assumed he was making a frame with his hands and miming taking a photo.

“Stop that,” Taehyung muttered, face full of your covered breasts. “Oi, take your clothes off if you’re gonna squash my face with your tits.”

You rammed your chest into his face to muffle his protests.

-

“Mmm, yes, no faster way to make me limp than you sucking Jungkook’s face off.”

You were too busy grabbing Jungkook’s naked ass and moaning in his mouth, tongue on tongue, purple strands brushing against your forehand, his hands on your ass and squeezing it roughly, rutting his rapidly hardening cock against your thigh.

“You want me to leave you guys alone?”

You broke the kiss, snapping your head around to see Taehyung raising an eyebrow at you from the head of your bed, completely naked. Jungkook continued slowly humping your thigh, peaking pre-cum all over and adding to his own stimulation.

“Are you done being an insufferable shit or what?” you glowered.

“Mmm, no.”

“Hmph, fine, just fuck me from behind then if you’re so needy,” you sighed, turning back to Jungkook’s amused smirk.

“No. I want the mouth again.”

You and Jungkook shared a confused look. “Huh, why?” you both said at the same time, looking at him in unison.

Taehyung lifted his chin defiantly, pointing to you. “I wanna stuff my dick into your mouth and fuck your face because you tricked me.”

You gasped, feeling slighted. “I told you it was Jungkook’s idea, why am I getting punished? You schemed against me first!”

He shrugged. “You corrupted him so, technically, it’s all inherently your fault.”

You protested as Jungkook laughed, pushing you into position despite you verbally fighting back.

“What! All I did was exist! Is it my fault that Jungkook was thirsting after my ass and you decided it would a taste of my own medicine, only to have it backfire in your face? And what if I wanna look at his handsome face? Huh? Why am I not getting a say in – mhpf!”

You yelped as Jungkook and Taehyung shoved your face first into Taehyung’s crotch, his semi-hard cock smacking you in the cheek and getting a mouthful of his nuts.

“Lick.”

They both said it at the same time. You saw them share a look of surprise, shocked that they were thinking the same thing, ignoring you.

Hey, nobody ignores you.

You wrapped your lips around one of his balls and sucked, tongue surrounding it, causing Taehyung to squeal and spread his legs, his cock swelling instantly, especially as your tongue poked out and lapped at the other while sucking intently.

“Good little devil,” Jungkook praised, patting you on the head before backing up, leaving you to rearrange Taehyung’s nuts with your mouth, licking and sucking all over, him gasping and moaning above you, falling back against the headboard.

“You’re crazy, fucking crazy…”

You switched sides, pressing your lips into his crotch to stuff your mouth full before sticking your tongue out and wiggling it on the underside of the other, his thick length now hitting you in the nose, and you realized Taehyung wasn’t going to help you with this, so you internally sighed and reached up to grab his dick and stroke it slowly as you continued your make-out session with his nuts.

Taehyung was chanting your name over and over like it was a prayer, as if he was saying it in attempt to ask for his soul to be saved.

You felt the bed bow and you lifted your head as far as it could go, which wasn’t very far because you still had one of Taehyung’s balls still in your mouth. You were still sucking on it.

He moaned above you, clutching your pillows for dear life.

You heard a condom being opened and felt Jungkook’s knees spread yours, deep silvery voice purring your name.

“Wanna see you take two dicks at once, naughty devil,” he teased, pressing the head of his cock against your soaked opening.

You unlatched your mouth and Taehyung seemed to see stars for a hot second, reeling.

“Hope you’re prepared, sweet angel,” you taunted, and then you swallowed his dick.

“Fucking shit!”

You moaned around his cock, letting it fill you to the throat, Jungkook’s perfect length thrusting into you at the same time, stretching you out deliciously, his own moan adding to your pleasure. There was just something about Jungkook’s moan, the longing, the possessiveness, the love. It made you wetter every time, bringing newfound energy to your meticulous sucking of Taehyung’s cock, who finally seemed to get his bearings and remember what the fuck was going on and what he wanted to do in the first place, because he finally straightened, large hands fitting around your head, pushing your hair back.

“You know why you’re so good at sucking dick?”

You tried very hard not to roll your eyes, already knowing what was coming. You decided to focus on Jungkook’s cock instead, pumping in and out of you, powerful, deep strokes, his hands gripping your hips, trying so hard to please you, and he was good at it, hitting all your favorite spots that made you squirm back against him.

“Because I let you suck mine,” Taehyung growled, holding your head and thrusting into your throat.

Mmmhmm, you thought to yourself. Not that he was wrong, because he wasn’t, being your first and all, but, come on, you didn’t get all your skills from sucking one dick, no matter how amazing Taehyung’s was. Oh well, you let it slide, simply enjoying not having to do much as your best friend fucked your face and your boyfriend pounded your pussy.

Ah, bliss.

The feeling of your mouth being filled and used, stroking Taehyung’s hips with your fingertips, elbows on the bed, legs spread open for Jungkook to slap his crotch into your ass wetly, back to front, a constant encompassing ecstasy that you welcomed, letting them command the pace, hands on your head and hands on your ass, familiar hands, loving hands, because even if Taehyung didn’t want to take you on dates and wake up next to you every day, he still loved you, still made sure he didn’t actually hurt you, careful to thrust hard but not deep, or thrust deep but not hard.

Jungkook wanted to take you on dates and hold you on his arm like his trophy and be waltzed around as yours, so… romantic? It was your version of romance, anyway.

And sex.

Lots of sex.

Fuck, he was so good at fucking you, leaning down, giving you more, chuckling as he heard you moaning around Taehyung’s cock, faster, harder, yes, fuck, yes, so good, your noises trapped in your chest, Taehyung increasing the speed, breathing shallowing.

“Fuck, yes, tighter, give it to me, you dirty devil,” he growled and you obeyed, closing your lips and pressing your tongue against the bottom, sandwiching his length in your mouth, your pussy also squeezing Jungkook harder, basking in his sinful moan, enamored with his voice and the way he said your name, never getting enough.

“A-ah, you feel so good, your pussy is so fucking good, gonna make me cum…”

So rough, so intense, so full of cock, keeping your holes tight, relishing in the way they forced themselves into your mouth and pussy, heady and intoxicating pleasure, you tipping over the edge, wailing around Taehyung’s thick girth as you spilled onto Jungkook’s rock-hard length, mind-numbing satisfaction that spread all over, hot and melting into you. Your walls violently spasmed and caused Jungkook to gasp, cock twitching and jolting inside you, shooting thick spurts of cum that filled the condom, and he buried himself all the way in, a wanton moan of your name echoing off your bedroom walls, savoring the feeling of you milking him, gripping your sides and squeezing you lovingly.

Suddenly, Taehyung yanked his cock out of your mouth and you coughed, startled at the abrupt loss, only for him to orgasm all over your face, hot white strings shooting out of his glistening cock and his hand guiding them, painting your cheeks and open mouth, dripping onto your tongue and clinging onto your swollen lips.

“Tae! What the fuck?!”

He snickered, smearing the residual cum on the side of your frown, winking.

“Blessed service, eh, you devil?”

-

“Is it gonna be like this every time we hang out now?”

You climbed onto Jeon Jungkook’s lap, kissing him deeper, trapping his slim waist in between your thighs, his hands sliding up your skirt, moaning into your mouth as Kim Taehyung smacked you in the shoulder blades, the sound masked by the obscenely loud music of the club as onlookers watched you and Jungkook with increasing interest.

Probably all dreaming of threesomes with you two.

“Hello, you two are supposed to be helping me getting laid, not getting laid right in front of me!”

--

masterpost

[pikablu410]

Gayner

“69...70!” A muscled man could be heard throughout the gym.

“Damn Sirus! You sure you wanna keep going? Nobody’s lifted 100 pounds for this long.” The nearly equally muscled man standing above him asked.

“Nah, I think I might tear something if I keep going.” Sirus said, setting down the weights on the rack, “Thanks for spotting me, Keith.”

“No problem. You don’t always have to thank me whenever we finish up here.” Keith said, picking up a black duffle bag.

“It’s just common manners. Did you make sure the camera got all of my reps?” Sirus asked as Keith went over to the tripod.

“Yeah, we got all of it.” Keith said, carefully dismantling the camera from the tripod and placing it in the duffle bag. 

“Good. Get some pictures of me now. Gotta put some stuff on Instagram to keep the followers satisfied.” Sirus said, handing his phone to Keith. Shortly after, Sirus posed, flexing his well defined muscles at the best angles.

To say Sirus was ripped would be an insult, for he was far more than that. The young 21 year old had been lifting to build his body ever since freshman year of high school, and it showed. Defined biceps, thighs and pecs already made Sirus attractive enough, but his stunning eight pack is what he prided himself on. Though most people joke about having veins on your veins, they might not have been joking when they told Sirus that.

“Alright, the pictures are uploading now. Should be finished any second now.” Keith said, throwing the duffle bag over his shoulder.

“Great, let’s go take a break in the cafeteria. My arms are still sore.” Sirus said, with Keith nodding and following.

The two traveled to the expansive cafeteria, windows acting as a wall on their left side while a mural of sports and exercises painted their right side. Sirus loved how open and active this gym felt. He hadn’t gotten that feeling at any other gym he had visited, plus this gym paid him to stay here, what with his internet popularity and rising fame. 

Sirus and Keith sat down their bags, saving a spot as they went to get food for themselves. However, Keith stopped Sirus as he was walking to get his lunch.

“Why don’t you stay here and watch our stuff. You put a lot of work today and I don’t want you to twist or tear something from too much exertion.” Keith said, moving Sirus back to his seat.

“Sure. Thanks dude.” Sirus said as Keith left to get their food.

Sirus sat back in the white plastic chair and sighed. As far as he was concerned, he was living the good life. He was physically healthy, financially well off, and, most importantly, incredibly hot. Whenever he walked down the streets, girls and guys alike turned their head at the slightest of glances at his body. Sirus lifted up his tight fitting black shirt and felt his abs with his hand, feeling himself grow hard at the touch of his similarly hard abs. Sirus wasn’t gay, but he definitely was vain.

His indulgence was cut back, though, as Keith placed a tray of food down in front of Sirus. A chicken salad sandwich, some vitamin water and a zero calorie yogurt rested on the metal plate. The same was on Keith’s.

“Sorry if it’s not what you wanted. The rest of the food looked too greasy for you.” Keith said, opening his water to take a drink. 

Sirus took a big bite out of his sandwich before saying, “It’s fine. I’ve been thinking about bulking up anyways.” 

To most people’s surprise, Sirus had actually been incredibly thin and underweight before he started going to the gym frequently. As a result, it was hard for him to build new muscle when there was barely any fat on him to begin with. He’d bulked a few times before, making sure to never overdo it lest he get fat. 

Sirus and Keith just continued to eat lunch, though Sirus felt more bloated than usual for some reason. He checked the water to make sure it wasn’t sparkling water, for whatever reason, finding that it was in fact vitamin water. Shrugging it off as eating too fast, Sirus decided to take it slow and make sure he didn’t get sick. 

Chugging back the rest of his vitamin water, Sirus set the plastic bottle down before feeling a strange pressure in his stomach. He let out a deep belch, surprised he had that in him from such a light meal. Sirus rested his hands on his abs to rub the bloat down, but doing so felt unfamiliar. Like he was touching someone else’s skin. Looking down, Sirus saw that he wasn’t just bloated, he had gotten downright fat.

Well, fat was exaggerating it a bit. Sirus had a belly, there was no doubt about that, but he looked more chubby than anything. It stretched his shirt so that it showed off every pound, almost like his stomach was proud of itself, wanting to be seen by the world. Sirus’s arms were still well-defined, but had a layer of thickness over them now. The same could be said of his legs, while his thighs and rear hadn’t been given the same mercy.

“What the fuck happened?!” Sirus exclaimed, nearly jumping out of his chair.

Keith looked at him like he was insane, “What are you talking about?”

“I’m fat! I have a fucking belly!” Sirus shouted at his friend.

“You mean this?” Keith said, jiggling Sirus’s stomach, “Yeah, that’s been there for a bit.” 

Sirus was in awe, too shocked to be mad at Keith. “W-what are you talking about?!” 

“It’s pretty simple. You ate a lot. You got too busy to come to the gym. You put on weight.” Keith said, finishing his vitamin water, “You should’ve known better when you decided to bulk again.” 

Sirus wasn’t sure what to make of this. He had just put on, what, 50 pounds, and his friend just acted like it was normal. Suddenly he got an idea, pulling out his phone and going to his Instagram page. He had photo evidence that he was fit and healthy there. Logging in, Sirus went to his recent photos and held up the most recent one to Keith’s face.

“Look! I was a muscle god a minute ago! This is proof!” Sirus boldly claimed.

Keith looked at him with suspicion, “Are you alright dude? Did you not eat or drink enough or something?” 

Sirus pulled back his phone and looked at the image, only to see a comical post of himself being tired out after some exercise with the caption “Working this off is harder than I thought!” Some of the replied were encouraging, but there were a lot of guys that wanted to see Sirus’s belly. A few even encouraged him to put on more weight. What kind of hell world had he been transported to?

“I need to get home.” Sirus said, his head almost literally spinning. 

“I agree. It’s almost the time of the day where everyone starts flooding into this place.” Keith said, getting up, “You need help, big guy?” 

Sirus glared at Keith for the comment, but sensed it wasn’t malicious. Mostly. Sirus got up on his own fine, taking a few seconds to adjust to his new frame. While he wanted to work off this gut, he didn’t want more people seeing him like this than necessary. 

Luckily for him, nobody really seemed to bat an eye at Sirus’s form. It was like this was normal, which almost made it worse for the once fit lad. He and Keith quickly reached the car, at Sirus’s demands, where Sirus was about to open the driver door. 

“Hey, you in the sudden mood to drive or something?” Keith asked, pushing Sirus out of the way and sitting in the driver’s seat. “You might be the one who makes the dough, but I’m the only one who wants to drive anywhere.”

“This is my car! Of course I drive it!” Sirus nearly shouted. He remembered piecing the car back together on his own, buying each part and learning how to properly put them back in to make the motor run. He wasn’t going to hand this over to anybody, even if it was his best friend. And what did he mean by saying Sirus was the only one who makes money? Keith has a job at the gym, and he had no reason to quit.

Sirus was about to argue with Keith more, but realized he was already in the car driving home in the passenger seat with Keith. Why had he given up so easily? He didn’t feel the desire to claim his car back, or even the urge to do anything about it for that matter. What he did feel, though, was a rumble in his stomach.

“Woah, meal number two already? Glad your stomach decided to say something now instead of when we were pulling in at home.” Keith said, slowing the car down a bit. He glanced to his right and asked, “How about some Micky D’s?” 

“Wha- no way! That shit’s too greasy and filled with fat and sugar. I’d never order from there!” Sirus pouted. 

Looking back to his front, he was happy to see Keith continuing on the road, with the McDonald’s out of sight. Sighing in relief, Sirus’s moment of serenity was interrupted by a powerful smell. Looking down, he saw that there were multiple greasy bags of McDonald’s on the floor in front of him and in his lap, covering what was leftover from his belly.

“What the hell!?” Sirus shouted, causing Keith to jump a bit.

“Jesus dude, what the fuck is wrong with you today?!” Keith nearly shouted.

“Why do we have so much food from McDonald’s?!” Sirus panicked, wanting the food as far away from him as possible. 

“I dunno, you tell me, cause you’re the one who ordered it all.” Keith said, continuing to focus on the road. “Now eat up, I don’t wanna have to lug in all these bags full of food when we get back.” 

Sirus was in shock. Had he just blanked out? Was he being set up? Pranked? He couldn’t process everything that was going on. Too much was going on. He felt a handful of fries go in his mouth but never wanted to move his hands. He chewed and swallowed, either because he was submitting to his fate or because he wanted to breathe. He couldn’t even tell that.

Looking out the car window again, Sirus realized they were home. He looked down and saw that the bags of food were all empty. He didn’t remember doing that, but felt the greasy meals and bubbly soda in his stomach anyways. Rubbing his gut, Sirus looked down at it. Did it always look that big? Why did his pecs feel so soft? And did his chin always scrunch up when he looked down at his gut? He was too lost to tell, glad Keith helped him out of the car and into the house.

Waddling, wait was he waddling? Once Keith sat him down on the couch, Sirus couldn’t tell. He wasn’t that big, was he? No, he wasn’t big at all. This was all some joke and he could work off the gut in a few weeks. 

“I’ll tell everyone it was a bulk. They’ll believe me, I was scrawny before working out so they’ll believe me.” Sirus told himself. Sighing, he was relieved he had enough time to collect himself. Maybe this was just a strain of bad luck; an allergic reaction he overreacted to. Perhaps that was it. Sirus was trying to reason with his surroundings so much he didn’t notice his stomach rumble once again. He looked around to see where Keith was, as he hadn’t seen him since he had brought him in. 

Sirus didn’t see anything at first, but felt stupid once he saw Keith in front of him. He was setting up a camera, like he typically would when Sirus would work out. Sirus smirked and understood now.

Sirus smirked and said, “Oh I get it, you want me to work off all this food for a video.” He and Keith had done this type of stuff before for extra cash. Showing off his body in private videos, in exchange for money, was something he was used to and didn’t really mind doing. It was really easy to do and let Sirus show off his body so it was a win-win situation. 

“I don’t think our viewers would want that very much.” Keith scoffed. He then walked over to Sirus, jiggled his belly a little and said, “Just sit back and relax.” 

Sirus was confused, and a bit worried, but since Keith had sloshed his stomach around he wasn’t sure if it was nerves or his own flatulence. As Sirus let out a belch, he knew it was the latter. The burp also caused Sirus to go into a bit of a haze. He wasn’t sure what was going on, his vision getting a little blurry. Why had he been worried about what Keith said? This was normal, right?

A few seconds after Sirus’s belch, Keith walked back in with a cart full of food and said, “Alright, let’s get started.” 

Keith then walked over to the camera and turned it on, the black box recording Sirus’s current daze on the couch. Keith then grabbed a bucket off the cart and sat down next to Sirus. The bucket looked like it was dripping with grease and inside there were at least a dozen chicken wings. 

Still in his daze, Sirus wasn’t able to quickly react to Keith shoving one of the wings in his mouth. As if by instinct, Sirus started to eat the meat, sucking the breading off before chomping down on the white meat. Of course, this got grease all over and around Sirus’s mouth, but for some reason that felt natural to him. 

Mentally, Sirus was yelling and scolding himself to stop, worried about all the calories he was consuming. He had already forgotten he was on camera, his mind more worried about how much Keith was going to feed him, and how much his body would make him eat. Not noticing how he had already emptied the bucket of wings, Sirus felt his stomach gurgle as he panicked. As if coming to a peak, Sirus felt his body finally buckle and let out a loud belch. He wasn’t entirely sure if it was from eating so much or the anxiety he was experiencing, but the dazed sensation only got stronger once he did. It was as if the burp caused the fog in his mind to thicken, making it harder to think if any of this was right.

Keith then fed Sirus a burger. For some reason, he just opened his mouth and took a bite. Chewing, then swallowing, Sirus felt a familiar sensation in his gut before he let out another monstrous belch. Another bite, more chewing and another burp. The haze continued to roll in, causing Sirus’s thoughts to become slower and decisions harder to make. Because of this, Sirus didn’t notice how his body also swelled out whenever he belched. His stomach pooled into his lap more, his pecs began to sag and look more like moobs and his thighs were starting to strain his undies, reminding Sirus he was still clothed at all.

However, Keith holding a doughnut to his mouth brought Sirus back to his current reality, opening his mouth to consume the sugary morsel. Another bite, another belch, more growing. Bite, belch, grow. Consume, release, fatten. Sirus didn’t bother to think how quickly things were changing, his mind now too caught in the slog to really question anything. He just seemed more relaxed and content than before, rubbing his gut as Keith fed him.

Wait, a gut? Sirus looked down and was able to think clearly for the first time while he was being fed. Sirus’s stomach almost reached his knees, his thighs now wide enough to support the belly. Certified moobs sat atop his stomach, Sirus being able to cup them each with his hands. Feeling his face, Sirus noticed a lot of grease and what could be barely called leftovers around his mouth, as well as a ring of fat under his face that served to make a double chin. Sirus was now a complete fat ass, whether he intended to be one or not.

As Sirus noticed Keith take down the camera, he tried to get up to have his friend explain what was going on. However as he tried to get up Sirus noticed it was much harder to do so, or anything physical for that matter. Sweating just from trying to get off the couch, Sirus tried once more to sit up and was surprisingly successful! However a rip was heard once Sirus was up and with a slight move forward he realized his underwear was finally gone. 

“W-what’s going on?” Sirus panted out as he waddled towards Keith. “What do you mean babe? We just got finished with a feeding session.” Keith said, packing the camera up. “B-babe?” Sirus asked aloud, but mostly to make sure he heard Keith right. “Yeah, what’s up?” Keith asked, “We should probably get you to our bed upstairs. Eating all that food is probably tiring.”

Keith walked over to Sirus and put his arm under the fat guy’s, lifting him up with ease. Was Keith ever this strong? And why did his muscles feel so good? Keith helped Sirus waddle to the stairs, the fatty having to take deep breaths once he got there. “Alright, we’re at the stairs.” Keith said, as if he were warning Sirus. At first Sirus was confused, but once he tried to lift his leg he understood why. It felt as though a fifty pound weight was attached to his shins, and with all the fat on him it might as well have been that way.

Sirus couldn’t help but notice his body jiggle whenever he took a step. He had to be over half a ton, but he wasn’t sure why he knew that. Finally reaching the bedroom upstairs, Sirus was panting with every movement. Sweat was dripping from his dark hair in between his rolls of flab. Keith set him down on the bed for a breather, with a loud creak of protest echoing as he did so. Once Keith sat Sirus against the headboard, Sirus finally felt like he had enough breath to speak.

“W-what happened to me? Why am I so- so fat?” Sirus asked, unable to avoid the delusion. Keith look at him, this time more worried than confused, “Are you alright babe? Have you not eaten enough today? I’ll try to refresh you while you eat.” Keith said, pulling over a cart full of food Sirus hadn’t noticed before. 

Instinctively opening his mouth, Sirus ate a slice of pizza as Keith fed it to him. “I remember when you used to have muscle. You were a Greecian god, fitter than anyone else at the gym.” Keith explained, feeding Sirus another slice of pizza. He was rubbing Sirus’s stomach as he ate too, causing Sirus to let out a loud belch. 

“That is, before you decided to bulk and got sick. You got so lazy and succumbed to your love of food. Your hard body was gone, covered with flab.” Keith went on, holding a chicken wing up to Sirus’s mouth. The grease dripped off of it and onto Sirus’s chins and chest, but he didn’t seem to care as he devoured the morsel. Afterwards, gas could be heard escaping from his rear, causing his entire body to jiggle.

“I found out I liked you with more fat than muscle then, so I indulged you in gluttony. You blew up pretty quick for someone who had no fat on them beforehand.” Keith’s story went on. He fed another wing to Sirus and then held up a burger for the big guy. Sirus had to squirm his way towards the center of the bed, his ass cheek and love handle starting to fall of the side of the bed. Luckily his attention was brought back by Keith feeding him more.

Keith sighed as Sirus destroyed another slice of cake, “Thankfully, when you finally noticed you were fat, you loved it. You gave in even more and even suggested doing this for money.” Keith pulled out a chocolate cupcake and fed it to Sirus, brown icing getting all around Sirus’s mouth and falling onto his expansive belly. Keith picked it up with his forefinger and shoved it in Sirus’s mouth for the pig to eat. Moaning from the taste, Sirus let out a loud and long burp once Keith’s finger was gone. As he ate another cupcake, he noticed how small the king sized bed was. Hopefully they made bigger sizes, otherwise he’d be on the floor before long.

“We were a hit too,” Keith started, bringing Sirus back with a scoop of cookie dough ice cream, “We made rent and then some in the first month; more than we’d ever had while you did the same thing as a muscle god.” Keith couldn’t help but jiggle Sirus’s huge belly as he ate. His arms were starting to get sucked in to the fatty expanse, as were his thighs and legs. His moobs were sagging a bit to the sides now, Keith twisting Sirus’s nipple as he noticed. All this made Sirus fart, and while he giggled, Keith continued.

“It only got better from there. We make enough money to keep growing you and to keep this nice place. It’s been like a dream. I don’t think I could’ve wished for more.” Keith ended, feeding Sirus the last of the ice cream. 

And as if to announce the finale, Sirus let out a monstrous belch that shook him and the bed, though there wasn’t much of a difference considering how much of it Sirus covered. 

“Babe, I’m still hungry.” Sirus said, noticing the camera at the edge of the bed for the first time. Had that always been there? 

Keith smirked and said, “Oh don’t worry big boy, I still have more to feed you.” 

Sirus looked over and drooled at his naked boyfriend, his eight pack abs and hard muscles bringing his buried dick to life. Getting on the bed on his knees, Keith slowly made his way over to Sirus’s face. Sirus could now see the ten inch package in all of its glory. “Open up.” Keith ordered, and Sirus eagerly took down the hard shaft. Keith immediately let out a moan, with Sirus eager to drink down his boyfriend’s juices.

Keith buckled, causing Sirus’s body to jiggle on the bed, but it only encouraged the blob more. It wasn’t long before Keith came into Sirus’s greedy mouth, the fat ass downing all of the white goo.

“How was that fatty? You still want more.” Keith asked, slowly getting off the bed.

“M-m-more. I-I always w-want m-more.” Sirus panted out before Keith held a doughnut up to his face. 

[doctorstethoscope]

The Right Chapter 24 || Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

Happy Saturday my loves! A little fluff/angst double whammy for your afternoon :) 

contains: grouchy aaron, food mention, description of anxiety, canon-typical description of murder

wordcount: 2.4k

“I seem to remember you being the one lecturing me about the bureau’s generous sick leave policy not all that long ago,” You told Aaron as you gently shoved him back into bed three days after he’d broken his leg. 

“I also recall that in that situation, you were the one who was injured,” Aaron grumbles, and you roll your eyes. 

“Yes, and you stayed home to take care of me. Now, I’m returning the favor,” you reminded him. 

“I’m not going to get a brain bleed, I just need the leg to heal. You don’t need to stay with me all day while I sit in bed.” He argues.

“You’re right, but I think we both know that if I wasn’t here, you wouldn’t stay in bed, and seeing as how you can’t get as far as the bathroom without my help, that might present a problem.” You chastise him. “I’m not coming home to you bleeding out in the hallway because you fell over and couldn’t help yourself.”

“You make me sound like I’m eighty years old.” he scoffed. 

“Well, if you agree to wear a life alert, maybe I’ll go back to work.” You said, throwing your head against the pillows. There’s a few moments of silence, punctuated by Aaron’s deep sigh. 

“I’m glad you’re here. Sorry I’m being grumpy.” He apologized. “I just don’t want you to have to take care of me.” 

“You’re injured and in pain. You’re allowed to be grumpy,” you told him. “And I plan on taking care of you for the rest of my life, so you should start to get used to it.”

“Can I hold you for a little while? You don’t have to go near my leg,” he says, knowing you’ve been extra-gentle to avoid his injury since you’ve been home together. “You could put your head on my chest and I could just… hold you,” Aaron asks shyly, and your heart melts. 

“Of course, baby.” you say, snuggling your torso in close, leaning your head against his pec and resisting the urge to toss your legs over his. “See? Sick leave isn’t all that bad,” you tease him.

“No, I suppose not,” he smiles, rubbing an arm up and down your back.

“Jack is so excited to have you home.” You comment.

“Not that it matters, I can’t even take him to the park or ride a bike with him.” Aaron grouses. 

“Aaron, he’s over the moon just to have time to spend with you. He could sit here in bed with you watching Toy Story on a loop for the next six weeks and I’m sure he’d tell you it was the best month and a half of his life.” 

“A month and a half… I’m gonna go crazy.” Aarom remarks, more to himself than to you. 

“You’re gonna have to take up a hobby. Maybe knitting,” you snort, and Aaron smiles. 

“Yeah, or braiding or something,” he agrees offhandedly.

“Braiding?” You ask. 

“Oh, I mean, or maybe I could get back into Chess, finally get good enough to beat Spencer--” 

“No, no, back up, what made you bring up braiding?” 

“Uh… it’s just… something I’ve been thinking about in case we ever, you know, made a decision, and felt like maybe---” 

“Aaron, spit it out,” you laughed. 

“Just… if we had kids, or a daughter, I would want to be able to do her hair. Because if you’re not home, I don’t want to be the dad that doesn’t know how to do his daughter’s hair.” He confesses, the embarrassment clear in his tone. You place a kiss to his chest. 

“You are a good man, Aaron Hotchner.” 

“I’m glad you think so, anyways.”

“Alright, you’re getting grumpy and self-deprecating, which is a bad combo. You need a nap.” You instruct him teasingly. 

“You’ll be here when I wake up?” He asks, tightening his hold on you just slightly. 

“Of course, love. You go ahead and rest. I’m not going anywhere.”

You went back to work a little over a week later, when Aaron was mostly off of his pain meds, and able to get himself around the apartment without any assistance. You were still staying there when you weren’t on a case, and found yourself grateful that you’d decided to sign a month-to-month lease-- you weren’t sure what the point was of keeping up the pretense of separate places anymore. But, then again, with Aaron injured, now probably wasn’t the best time for a move. You're working through a few scenarios in your head when Spencer interrupts your train of thought. 

“How’s Hotch feeling?” He asks as you and the rest of the team board the jet to head home after a case. 

“He’s doing better,” you tell him. “The pain isn’t bothering him as much and he’s getting a little bit of his range of motion back. I’m still trying my best to keep him in bed, but I’m sure you can imagine how well that’s going,” you tell him with a smile. 

“Well, tell him I can’t wait to have him back. I hate all this paperwork,” Morgan cuts in with a playful chuckle, and you shove at his shoulder. 

“I’m trying to keep him home, Derek. Besides, we all know that Spencer is doing most of the paperwork for you,” you called him out, and Emily and JJ laughed.

“He’s just so fast,” Morgan defends himself, and now everyone is laughing. 

“We do want him back,” Emily tells you. “But not until he’s good and ready. And then, you know, maybe even a few weeks after that. Wouldn’t kill him to take a vacation.” 

“I’m not so sure about that,” JJ smirks. 

“Please, he’s already itching to get back to work. I think he’d leave me if I asked for a vacation.” You tell Emily.

“No, if you asked for a vacation he’d buy a plane ticket in an instant. And he’d bring his work phone and his computer to the beach and try to solve a murder from underneath a palm tree,” Morgan argued playfully. 

“Sometimes when we take a case somewhere warm, I stand in the parking lot for five minutes and face the sun. And if you close your eyes, it’s almost like a vacation.” You say. 

“Weren’t you literally taken hostage the last time you did that?” Spencer asks, and you roll your eyes goodnaturedly. 

“Well, there goes my tropical getaway,” you tease. 

With Morgan as acting unit chief, paperwork deadlines are considerably more flexible, which is to say nonexistent. Strauss would probably have a field day when she went to review the case file, but that wasn’t your problem. And, quite frankly, as you rushed to your car to get home to your boys, you couldn’t care less. 

When you swing the door open, you interrupt a very spirited game of Connect Four between Jack and Aaron. You notice that Aaron has at least three opportunities to make a winning move, all of which he ignores in favor of allowing Jack to push his chips in at random. 

“You’re home!” Jack exclaims when he sees you, scrambling across the living room and wordlessly commanding to be held by you. 

You hoist him up onto your hip, not without difficulty. He was getting big, and it made you a little sad. It strikes you that you won’t be able to do this forever, wrap him up in your arms and make him feel small and safe and secure. You squeeze him tighter. “Were you good for your daddy while I was gone?” 

“Uh-huh.” He nods, pulling back to look at you and running the collar of your shirt in between his thumb and forefinger absentmindedly. 

“And was Daddy good? He stayed off of his booboo leg?” You asked the only Hotchner who would give you a truthful answer. 

“Daddy was good.” Jack confirms, and you narrow your eyes skeptically. 

“Did he bribe you to say that? Ice cream for breakfast, or a new comic book?” You ask. 

“No. We watched Toy Story and I learned checkers. I had cereal for breakfast, not ice cream.” He tells you, and you relent. 

“Sounds like you had a lot of fun, bug.” You say, putting him down and crossing the living room to sit next to Aaron on the couch, who leaned over to press a kiss to the top of your head and placed a hand in your lap. 

“I did. But I missed you.” Jack tells you, climbing onto the couch next to you. 

“He’s not the only one,” Aaron whispers, pressing another kiss to your hair. 

“I missed you both, very very much,” you tell them, snuggling closer into Aaron and placing a hand in Jack’s hair. 

“We had pasta for dinner. I saved you a plate,” Aaron tells you. 

“Thank you, baby.” You tell him. “But, I’m pretty sure it’s past somebody’s bedtime…” You mention, and Jack pouts immediately. 

“I told him he could stay up until you got home, but he promised he wasn’t going to fight when it was time for bed, right buddy?” Aaron reminds his son. 

“Come on, sweet boy. I’ll tuck you in,” You tell him, pecking Aaron’s lips briefly before scooping Jack up off of the sofa and bringing him to his bed, tucking him in with extra stories and kisses to make up for the nights you missed while you were gone. 

When you come back into the kitchen, Aaron has heated up the leftover pasta and is waiting for you at the counter. 

“You didn’t have to get up, I would have done that,” you tell Aaron, knowing full well that he’d never actually listen.

“How was the case?” He asks as you settle in and start to eat. 

“It wasn’t too bad. We got the guy to surrender without hurting any of the hostages. A few of them were in pretty rough shape, but they should all recover.” you tell him in between bites. 

“And the team? Everyone’s doing okay?” 

“We’re all good, babe. JJ’s getting really good at the geographic profile, but I think it annoys her to stay at the station when we’re all out.” 

“She’s pregnant. It’s not worth the risk,” Aaron reminds you. 

“I know, honey, but it’s still annoying. It’s kind of like when you break your leg and you’re not allowed to go to work but you still have to hear all about it from your girlfriend,” you point out, and he smirks at you. 

“Morgan’s doing okay? The field agents aren’t giving him any trouble?” 

“Morgan can handle himself just fine against any cocky field agent. You don’t need to worry about us, sweetheart. We’re okay. You trained us up good,” you smiled at him, and he blushed, rolling his eyes at you. “We want you back, but we want you back healthy,” you tell him.

“Well, the doctor cleared me to start PT in two weeks. So hopefully I’ll be back sooner rather than later,” Aaron tells you. 

“That's great news! So the cast is coming off soon?” You ask. 

“Yeah, he wants to see me again to take it off and give me the final go-ahead for PT.”

“And you’re gonna take it easy at PT, because you know you can’t rush recovery, right?” You remind him. 

“Yes, mom,” he teases you with a smile. 

“It’s my turn to fret over you. Karma’s a bitch,” you smile at him as you get up to take his plate to the dishwasher. As you do so, his phone rings. 

“Hotchner,” he says into the receiver. “Woah, woah. Slow down, please. Are you okay?” Aaron says, and you turn around immediately, concerned. “Garcia, hold on. I’m going to put you on speaker. Yeah, she’s home. She’s here with me.” Aaron says, his eyes flicking over to you as he pulls the phone away from his ear and adjusts the volume. 

“Okay, so, I have been keeping an eye on Josh’s arrest record, awaiting his arraignment and his court dates so that we could throw a big ‘Josh is in prison for life party,’” she tells you, spitting out information a mile a minute. “There hadn’t been any movement for a few days, and I couldn’t figure out why, but I decided to check one more time before I went to bed tonight, and Josh’s dealer posted bail for him four days ago.”

“What?” You say. You heard her, heard every word she said in perfect clarity. But there had to be a mistake, right?

“Garcia, what do you have on the dealer? What has Josh been doing for the past four days?” Aaron asks, and you hear him, but you also… don’t. Everything sounds like you have cotton stuck inside your ears, or like you’re underwater. This couldn’t really be happening, could it?

“That’s a trigger,” you mumble quietly, and you think that Aaron doesn’t hear you, he’s so focused on his conversation with Garcia that you try hopelessly to follow. He turns to you, after a moment, tucking his phone back into his pocket. 

“What did you say, doll?”  He asks you. 

“That’s a trigger. You know, how we say that serial killers have triggers that make them start killing people. This is probably a trigger to start killing,” you say, staring at a spot of dirt on the tile. Jack must have tracked it on his cleats, and Aaron couldn’t mop with his injury. You should really clean that. You needed to get the dirt off the floor. Mop, mop, where did Aaron keep the mop? You pulled it out of the closet and were headed for the stain when you felt Aaron’s hands come to rest on your shoulders, blocking your path. 

“Hon, what are you doing?’ He asks, trying to make eye contact with you, which you avoided. 

“The floor needs to be mopped.” You answer, emotionless. 

“Why don’t you come sit down, the floor can wait,” he says, trying to guide you towards the sofa. 

“Aaron, your knee! Go sit. Go, go. I just need to get the floor clean. Please just go sit and I can fix it. It’s okay. I got it.” You got more and more worked up as you continued to stare at the dirt, watching the stain grow as your vision blurred, as if the dirt were mocking you. 

“Hey, hey hey. Where’d you go, angel? Come back here with me, love. You’re gonna be okay. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.” He says, wrapping his arms around you. 

You’d never wished more that you believed him. 

tagging:  @romanogersendgame @wanniiieeee      @zheezs14      @greeneyedblondie44 @angelic-kisses13  @baumarvel @ssamorganhotchner  @ijustwannaread2k19    @rexit-mo @shmaptainhotchnersmain @qtip-blog @averyhotchner  @the-modernmary @itsmytimetoodream @choppa-style @hotforhotchner11 @infinite-tides @isthatme-thatsme @g-l-pierce @bakugouswh0r3 @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads

[abundanceofnots]

Ficlet idea: Now that Mickey’s using kevs gym he’s been giving guys tips from his prison workouts. Ian is NOT happy about the level of attention he gets when he stops by one day

(You can read this fic here, or on AO3.)

So, the KevFit membership was still a thing. Cool.

And, okay, listen. It wasn’t that Ian minded Mickey going to the gym. Of course, he didn’t. It was just the way this whole thing came to be that Ian wouldn’t call ideal.

Mickey liked to say Ian body-shamed him into working out, and frankly, Ian could see why he would.

They gave each other shit all the time. Laughed about hairy toes, prodded at each other’s saggy parts. And when they were both in the right headspace, it was just that—provoking banter. But Mickey, being the sensitive creature that he was, sometimes took it too close to heart.

And yeah, maybe Ian nagged him a few too many times about staying healthy after the lockdown started when Mickey’s only method of balancing out his liquid beer diet was riding Ian’s dick. But by then, it felt like they’d been occupying the same 1x1 bedroom for years, so it wasn’t exactly Ian’s fault.

If Mickey decided to go about it this way, great. Seriously. It only meant that Ian didn’t need to worry about getting his knuckles bruised anytime soon. And while he secretly mourned the loss of Mickey’s soft belly, he wasn’t going to complain. Not when Mickey looked the way he did now.

The thought was on Ian’s mind again that morning while he brushed his teeth over the bathroom sink, using the time on his hands to watch his husband in the mirror as he showered.

The curtain was only partially closed, just enough so that Mickey wasn’t splashing water around the tub while still leaving space for Ian to see him.

And boy, did he see him.

His broad shoulders. His arms stretching as he ran his hands through his wet hair. The dimples on his back. The marks Ian left on his ass when they fucked earlier.

When Mickey turned off the shower and stepped out of the tub, Ian found himself drawn to the little water droplets sliding over the Ian Galager tattoo and down his pecs, his abs, the V shape of his hips, and into his pubes.

Ian only realized he entirely forgot to move the toothbrush in his mouth when one corner of Mickey’s mouth curled into a teasing smirk.

“The fuck are you looking at?” Mickey asked, sounding smug as hell as he reached for his towel.

“Definitely not your ugly mug.”

Coming out all muffled, Ian’s words lost some of their intended edges. He angled himself back to the sink and spat.

“You have the tits of a 12-year-old girl,” he added quickly like there was a five-second rule for when you could still save your diss. He looked up just in time to see Mickey scrunch his face in mild outrage.

“Fuck off, these are C cups at least.”

“Like you're such an expert on those.”

Ian let out a low yelp as Mickey unexpectedly smacked his back, right around where his Monica tattoo was.

“Well, they're not your mom's tits, that's for sure,” Mickey noted through a sneer.

He then went back to drying himself, and Ian allowed himself to openly gawk at his slightly misty reflection again.

Several mechanical strokes of his toothbrush later, the thought came back, clouding his mind with an ugly feeling.

The intuitive thing would be to push it back and pretend like everything was okay, but they were married now and told each other shit, right? He had to say something.

“Going to the gym again today?” Ian asked eventually, trying to come off as noncommittal as he could with his mouth full and his eyes trained on the drain.

Obviously, he didn’t mind getting horny over his buff husband. No, the actual reason Ian was so bothered about all this was that other people now had free reigns to get horny over him as well.

You see, since Mickey started paying Kev’s gym his regular visits, he’d managed to attract a flock of followers. Fucking fans.

That, at least, was what Ian called them. Mickey, of course, didn’t see it like that. For him, they were paying customers.

“It’s easy money, man. And the crowd’s gettin’ bigger and bigger every week.” Mickey looked pleased as he wrapped the towel around his hips. “Anyway, it’s not like I have to do much. Most of the time, I just do my thing, and the bunch of ‘em stare at my ass.”

Ian bent forward and spat.

“So basically, they pay to jerk off your ego,” he pointed out, slumping his shoulders to show how totally unimpressed he was by that notion.

“’Xactly. And maybe something else, too.”

Mickey’s cackle followed him out into the hallway as he left Ian alone in the bathroom.

---

It was clearly a joke. A nasty joke that was supposed to leave a sting, but there was absolutely no need for Ian to worry. And he kept telling himself that all day—right until the moment he entered the badly-lit backroom of the Alibi and found himself in the company of a pack of Northsiders in designer label gym clothes.

Before he could spot Mickey anywhere among them, some blond guy in what seemed like an uncomfortably too tight a tank top came to his side.

„Looks like we have a newcomer in our midst.” The guy clicked his tongue, giving Ian an blatant once-over. “You here for the Mickeffect?”

„The what?“

„The Mickeffect. That’s what we call this class. Unofficially, of course, because the class is sorta kinda unofficial, too.” At that, he sniggered, which Ian immediately found annoying. “3pm, every Tuesday and Thursday. You from the Facebook group?”

Ian resisted the urge to scoff. “Uh, no.”

“Just lucky coincidence, then? Well, since you’re already here, I think you’re gonna enjoy yourself. The dude who leads this class is ex-con, so he knows all the right ways to abuse the body if you know what I mean.”

Clenching his fists inside the pockets of his sweatpants, Ian smiled politely and nodded. He wasn’t going to give this blond douchebag the satisfaction and punch him in the face. Not yet, at least.

“Hot as hell, too. And man, that ass. Simply de-licious. The whole thing actually only went off after I posted a video of him doing squats. Got 50k views in a day, a whole article on PinkNews a week later. The title was The Ex-con Hunk Who Makes Chicagoans Sweat Like Crazy – And Then Tells Them Off. Funny.”

The guy shrugged in this wannabe innocent you know how it is way. Ian was relieved to realize he really, really didn’t.

“We get new people all the time, but the return rate is terrible,” Blond Douchebag continued, amazingly. “Most of the boys come for Mickey but then leave with someone else. Maybe you’ll get lucky here, too.”

“I’m married,“ Ian retorted, hoping it would be enough to make him stop talking.

But Blond Douchebag didn’t even blink. “Yeah, so are some of the guys here. And he is, too, but I don’t think he’s the typa guy who would be deterred by that.“

Careful there, pal, Ian thought. Or you might find your pretty face landing very unprettily on a beer keg.

“Oh, hey!“

The familiar voice came out of nowhere, prematurely ending Ian’s plans to show this complete dickwad the practical meaning of the word concussion.

His head snapped to his right where Mickey was now standing, his eyes carefully roaming over Ian. There was a softness in them for a moment before his whole face morphed into a smirk.

„Came to learn something from the expert?” he teased.

Ian clenched his jaw. “Something like that.”

As Mickey moved past them, Blond Douchebag gave Ian a sly wink.

---

Ian wasn’t sure what kind of problems the snooty Northsiders could possibly be dealing with in their private lives, but this whole thing seemed to have almost therapeutical effects on them.

Mickey called them Ansel Elgort (not a compliment) or White Kanye West (also not a compliment) while he listened to their crap, and they giggled like teenage girls. He yelled at them for being pussies, and they were only a touch away from popping a boner. It made zero fucking sense.

And Mickey, well. The dickhead was so clearly giving them an upgraded version to his usual performance. Biting his bottom lip all the time. Flexing his muscles a little too hard. Grabbing everyone’s attention by letting out these exaggerated grunts.

Ian officially reached his bullshit limit when Mickey finished off a set of pull-ups and promptly took his shirt off to wipe his face. The way everything around him seemed to come to a stop for a hot minute had Ian’s eyes rolling.

It was totally ridiculous. Were these guys really so desperate?

Getting a better grip on the skipping rope he was using, Ian caught Mickey watching him, his brows arched, the dare behind them so plain and obvious.  

And yeah, okay, asshole. Two could play this game.

“You know what,” Ian started out loud so everyone could hear him. He let the rope fall to his feet and instead tugged his own shirt off. “We did things a little differently in the army.”

His grin widened when he heard one of the guys audibly gulp.

---

“Fifty!”

“One hundred!”

“Fuck off, you can’t do one hundred push-ups in one go.”

“With one hand behind my back.”

Maybe kneeling on the feet of two wheezing guys doing sit-ups wasn’t the best time to have a whispered shouting match with your husband, but honestly, Ian couldn’t give two shits. Mickey was seriously pissing him off—and like hell was he going to let him win. Even if it was just this one petty argument.

“You need stamina when you’re the top. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to do all the fucking work while the bottom just lies there.”

“Oh, oh, please! Tell us more about your workouts in the army. Was this before or after you tried to run away from there by stealing a damn helicopter?”

They were suddenly aware that their periphery vision got surprisingly still. Almost in tandem, they looked down at the alarmed expressions of their trainees.

“Did I fuckin’ tell you to stop, Asthma Boy?” Mickey grumbled at his guy. “Gimme three more sets of twenty!”

---

Blond Douchebag must have taken a genuine liking to him because he later offered to cover Ian as he pounded into the punching bag. And while he technically did hold onto the punching bag, his eyes were always on Mickey.

“Wonder who Ian is,” he mused as he observed Mickey’s topless form. “Think it’s the husband? Probably doesn’t even realize what a hot piece of ass he’s got at home.”

Too easy. It would be entirely too easy to pretend Ian’s hand slipped and he hit him by mistake, and he wasn’t going to stoop that low. He wasn’t.

Taking in a deep breath, Ian started punching harder.

He wasn’t.

“Everything okay here?”

Mickey had his shirt tucked under the elastic band of his pants, and from the corner of his eyes, Ian couldn’t help but notice the light sheen of sweat that covered his face and upper body. He wasn’t the only one.

“Oh, more than okay,” Blond Douchebag practically purred.

Punch. Punch. Punch.

“Whoa, Ian, hey.” Mickey sounded worried. “Take it easy, man.”

And fucking finally, that seemed to have done the job. Because Blond Douchebag wasn’t looking at Mickey anymore, he was looking back at Ian, and his bravado was long gone. Now, there was childlike fear in his stance, and Ian almost pitied him.

“Oh shit. You’re Ian,” he managed before the next punch landed right into his face, knocking him down on the floor.

Panting, Ian stood over him as he clutched his bleeding nose.

“Yes, I’m Ian,” he snarled at him. “And his ass is all mine.”

Someone gripped his arm then.

“Okay, the show’s over, Muhammad Ali. Better get out of here,” Mickey muttered as he pushed Ian across the gym, past all the Northside wimps who seemed too tired to do anything other than being in shock. “Come on. Ian, come the fuck on!”

From the Alibi, they ran. Sprinted along the streets and over honking cars, zig-zagged through commuters, and flipped off those who wolf-whistled at their half-naked bodies. They ran until they ended up in a dirty alley with no one else in sight, their sides on fire, and broke into a fit of laughter.

Ian only realized Mickey brought his shirt when he used it to slap his chest.

“Jealous fucker.”

“Shut the fuck up. Wasn’t jealous.”

But Mickey was still wearing that suggestive whatcha gonna do now smirk, and his lips were shiny from being licked over just a second ago, and so the next thing Ian knew, he was pushing him against a wall and kissing him thoroughly.

His hands went to Mickey’s ass, lifting him up just slightly as his fingers dug in, and Ian pulled back to let out a moan.

“Mm, I fuckin’ love your ass.”

Mickey groaned. “Jesus Christ, please don’t tell me all of this was because of my ass.”

Leaning down again, Ian murmured into his mouth: “Isn’t it always?”

[jiminscalicokitten]

Intense Feelings (One-shot)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut, slight!Angst

Summary: Meeting someone you barely knew in high school shocks you but what really made everything so crazy is how you forgot saving his life. 

Rating: 18+ (If the warnings trigger you please don’t read.)

Warnings: penetrative sex, oral sex (both receiving), overstimulation, sex, slight!choking, slight!dirty talk, slight!possessiveness, depression, mention of attempt on suicide.

Word Count: 3.5k

Notes: It’s been such a long time since I posted, I wanted to surprise with a one-shot with out saying anything! Hope you enjoy it babies. 

The bartender filled your empty glass with what seemed to be his best whisky, from a bottle that could at least value at four thousand dollars.

You lifted your head to meet his gaze. “I didn’t order this.” You muttered. “A beauty such as yourself deserves a glass of the best, on the house.” He winked. 

“Does that work on most?” You raised your eyebrow as you crossed your leg. “I don’t try it on most.” He smiled widely. “Well, thank you for the drink.” Feeling a burn caused you to clear your throat. 

Inhaling you feel the alcohol surge through your veins, “Why is this place so quiet? I mean it is a club right?” You mumbled leaning into the counter. “Ah. It’s a quiet bar before eight. After that the party starts. You could say that you’re a little early.” He smiled. 

“Tell me, what do you do for a living, Miss?” He poured you a little more. “Well, office clerk, my name is Y/N.” You nodded. “I’m Hoseok, the bartender/owner of this club.” He told you as he wiped the counter with a clean cloth. 

“It’s rare to see office people come to clubs, I guess most would get dragged into team dinners and whatnot.” He smiled. “Well that’s true. But I guess our department is a little more progressive than most. We don’t have to go when we don’t want to.” You explained. 

“That must be great. I have a friend that usually sneaks out of college get togethers. Not that they invite him anymore. He claims it to be so boring.” You really did enjoy the fact that he talked to you even though it was awkward small talk.

You struggled communicating with others. You always wanted to start conversations but it sometimes gets too hard at how shy you are, or the fact that people just start talking to others before you could gather the courage to start a conversation. 

In the office, you usually talk when someone talks to you first and it never was about you. They need you to just do office stuff and it didn’t necessarily hurt your feelings but it did disappoint you though. 

People were never interested in the quiet clerk that just focuses on her work. They probably thought you were just here to only work and nothing more or less. What disappointed you was the fact they didn’t even try to change that. 

The team had a strong connection with one and another as they visibly show their friendship almost all the time. You weren’t a part of that. You didn’t really have a big friends group growing so it wasn’t something you weren’t used to. 

“Talk about the devil and he shows up.” You snapped out of your thoughts. Once you turned back you saw him. He wore a black Balenciaga t-shirt paired with loose jeans and a flannel barely hanging off his shoulder. You knew him. You went to school with him back in the day.

You can’t say he changed much, Jeon Jungkook, the hottest kid in class, there was a rumor about him being the son of the biggest business man in the city, once it spread he changed schools, allowing most to believe that it was true. 

“Hey! Give me a bottle of your coldest beer.” He stood next to your stool. “Here. I can’t believe you arrive the moment I mention you to someone.” Hoseok shook his head as he set the beer on the counter. “You were talking about me?” He looked confused.

“Yeah, to Y/N over here. Y/N this is Jungkook. JK this is Y/N.” He introduced him to you. There was no way that Jungkook was going to remember you from high school. Not that you look that different, it’s just that you lived in two different worlds-

“Y/N! I know you. We went to high school together didn’t we?” He grinned excitedly as he sat on the stool next to yours. “You remember?” Your eyes sparkled in fascination, how can he remember you? He must remember everyone in school to recall that you attended with him. 

“Of course I remember you. You were like the nicest person in the school.” He looked as if he was reminiscing. “Wow, but to be honest, I don’t remember us interacting much.” You confessed glancing at your glass. 

“That’s awesome! I remember more than you do then!” He laughed as he chugged his drink. “I remember how wonderful of a person you were.” His gaze softened at your shy demeanor. 

After a few too many drinks on Jungkook’s side, he got up stumbling a step, his hand gripping your shoulder for support. His cheeks were rosy and eyes were glistening. He suddenly fixed his posture to stand perfectly straight. 

His eyes were on yours for a long minute before he wrapped his arms around your head. Face in his torso, you were maybe as confused as you can get. Hoseok hollered his name a couple of times asking him to let go but he wouldn’t. Not necessarily hating the situation you were in you wrapped your small arms around his torso in comfort. Hoseok quieted down staring. 

Inhaling his scent you felt nostalgic, as if you’ve done something like this before, was it deja vu? Slowly letting you go he stared at your feature with an unreadable expression. You can’t help feeling breathless at how ethereal he appeared. 

Hair gently laying on his forehead, the air around you slowed, lights dimmed as a slight in his eyes was accentuated, and you could see visible fluff in the air pretend to be feathers of his non-existent wings. 

Leaning in, his forehead rested against yours for a moment before his lips pressed into yours. You loved the feeling of them pressing against your own as you lace your fingers in his hair to tug him in closing the distance between you two. Jungkook breaks the kiss, pecking your nose before prodding. “Let’s go?” It was a question more than a statement. 

He held your hand gently as he helped you out of the door, feeling your cheeks gain color. and stopped walking, halting his movement. He turned to look at you with concern lacing his gaze. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.” He muttered holding both your hands as he faced you. 

“It’s not that… Why me?” You knew that you didn’t really deserve this. “Because it is you. Because ten years ago, I missed my chance to show you how I feel about you.” He leaned pecking your lips then your nose followed by your forehead.

You couldn’t question him any longer. His actions were telling you everything you knew he meant every word just by the warmth he provided you with his touch in that moment. 

His apartment wasn’t too far from the club, he lived near the state university. Once you walked into the apartment you slipped off your shoes as you dragged your lips against his neck, moaning in satisfaction he slipped off his boots.  “Can I touch you?” His question seemed way too innocent for him. 

Your hand pulled his onto your waist. “I’d get sad if you don’t.” His hand massaged your waist as they slowly got lower to your hip. Your forehead patted his. Shortening the gap between he gasped in your lips. 

His lips felt different. They were much softer. Your hands held both of his cheeks as you tilted your head to get better access to his wet lips. He let out a soft groan as you slowly pulled his shirt off his body. “I remember you were into basketball back before you left.” You smiled as your fingertips gently ran across his muscled pecs.  

“I remember swooning every time I saw you.” You felt warmth grow between your legs. “Me too.” He joked. “Yeah? I guess you were that narcissistic about yourself and honestly I would be if I looked like that.” You pushed him down towards your bed. Hands touching his body, your lips met once more earning a groan from him. You slowly started moving down his neck with your kisses.  

He felt his member grow harder as your tongue licked across his abs going down. “Can I?” Your fingers wrapped around the band of his pants. He just nodded wordlessly. He hadn’t really done this before.  

Biting down onto his bottom lip at the sight of you pushed his knees apart, heat built up around his crotch as he settled back into the sofa.  

You pushed the loose strands of hair back from around your face to fall behind your head, you froze once Jungkook tucked a stray, a strand of your hair behind your ear. A small smirk on his face as he did so.  

Your fingertips caressed the denim that covered his thighs, inching towards the zipper of the tight jeans that he wore. Jungkook lifted his hips a little, pulling down his pants revealing the mind-numbing image of his bulge. 

Hands already lightly danced over his boxer briefs before you glanced up at him for permission, to which he nodded with hooded eyes and his notorious, taunting raise of an eyebrow. 

The sight of his member leaving out of his underwear had your lips parting in awe, saliva gathered in your mouth whole-heartedly at the size of him.  

You knew you would not be able to take him whole, but you were willing to try once you had him flushed and on the edge of his high. 

Your fingers tentatively slid across his jeans to wrap around the shaft to make up for what your lips could not reach for now. He inhaled sharply as you took him in. 

You started to work your mouth and fingers in unison, pumping up and down at an agonisingly slow pace, dragging as much pleasure as you possibly could through the way that your tongue traced delicately around his length, caressed the vein that throbbed eagerly on the underside. 

Hollowing your cheeks so that you could suck hard. Your name slipped from his lips deliciously as he lets out a throaty grunt. Hips rolling up into your mouth, making you whimper around him, struggling to refrain from reaching your free fingers between your thighs to satisfy yourself. 

Jungkook’s hand that was tangled in the strands of your hair had gone slightly slack with the euphoria that was rushing throughout his limbs, encouraging you to go deeper, harder.  

You removed your hand completely from his length, his erection poised readily on its own, noticing the way Jungkook’s eyes unexpectedly widened as moved your lips so far down his length that the tip was nestled against the back of your throat.  

A tight swallow had the man crying out, fisting a bundle of your hair for leverage as his body shook with white hot pleasure, rushing down to his length where it coated the inside of your mouth.  

 Your palms were flat against his thighs, sliding your lips slowly up and down to draw out the high that had shaken him from his core, weakly thrusting into you for more.

When you finally lifted up, you coughed lightly as you inhaled air back into your body, a little dizzy when Jungkook clasped your cheeks between his hands and leaned down to your face.  

A shiver of pleasure ran through your spine at the way he ran his tongue from your chin up to your lips, tasting your effort before sealing it with a deep kiss.  

His mouth opened your own wide, eager to consume every inch of you with his roaming lips and tongue before he pulled back, the two of you practically breathless. 

“That was probably the best blow job that I’ve received. Baby got mouth.” He kissed your giggling lips once more. “I should take care of you too.” His hand traveled to your waist as he helped you stand up. He laid your body on the bed.  

His fingers caught the hem of your shirt, “Wait…” You muttered face turning red. “We can stop if you want.” His hand went to pull up his pants. “That’s not it. I just feel self-conscious of my body.” You held onto his hands.  

He didn’t really understand. You were perfect, in his eyes at the very least. But he did know better than to push you out of your comfort zone this early in your relationship. He then glanced at your pants for permission. You nodded cheeks flaring even redder.  

He had a hard time pulling off your pants. Your hands moved to assist him in removing it. He drags your underwear with your pants in one gesture, Jungkook’s mouth came wet and warm on your pussy, licking your slit and pressing the flat of his tongue on your clit.  

His tongue swiped against your slit hard a few times and you moaned, arousal dripping between your legs already. He dug his fingers in the flesh of your thighs to still your moving body and started to suck on your clit, making you arch your back against your soft bed. 

Jungkook’s lips then pulled away from your clit to press against your folds, dipping his tongue just the smallest bit inside of you. You let out a shaky breath and shut your eyes, your legs locked around his head as you begin rubbing against his mouth. “I am so close! Kookie!” Your moans get louder.  

“Did you just call me Kookie while I’m doing this?” He plunged his fingers into your cunt as he chuckled. “I want to cum with you inside me.” You begged. Your cheeks felt warm and his hand came up to cup your face. He swiped a thumb across it. “I’ll end up wrecking you if you sound like that.” 

He ripped a condom wrapper and cased his length in latex. You barely had time to breathe before he shoved his cock inside of you, the stretching burned just enough to make you moan into his neck.  

Jungkook pushed himself all the way and stopped, letting out a shuddering moan himself, he didn’t say anything to you, but you knew he’s waiting for you to adjust. Your hands grabbed the sheets as you clenched tightly around his length.  

You placed your hand against his chest to make him know that you’re ready for him to move. You lifted your hips up a bit and a shiver shot through you when Jungkook pulled out of you halfway and then slid back in slowly. 

At your signal to move, he started at an unforeseen harsh pace, thrusting hard enough to make the bed squeak and rattle. Your back arched once more against the sheets and you didn’t do anything to meet his thrusts, too lightheaded with the pleasure that raised in your abdomen.  

He slowed down to kiss your lips. His thrusts became unhurried but deeper against your insides. “If I had known it would feel this good I would’ve asked you out in high school.” He grinned 

He started moving again, shoving in and out of you roughly. Jungook’s hand released your cheek and trailed down your chin until the inside of his palm lay on your throat. You let out a shuddering gasp escape your lips when his fingers tightened around your neck, just under your jaw.  

“Fuck- you feel too good babe.” He sounded too serious unlike his usual tone as his hand loosens against your neck.   

“Jungkook- I’m about to- Fuck I’m cumming.” Jungkook pulled out almost all the way and then started to thrust in and out of you once more, pounding you as hard as he could.  

You felt yourself come undone beneath him; you almost screamed when he didn’t stop thrusting, but you clasped your mouth with your hand letting out a whimper. The overstimulation is starting to hurt, but you closed your eyes shut and took it with tears escaping you, knowing it would start to feel good again.  

“No one else is allowed to touch you.” You shivered, the possessiveness in his voice making your toes curled and you wrapped your arms around his neck to keep his body near yours as he pounded his hips into you erratically. 

“Say it.” he pressed a kiss against your jaw. “Say that you’re only mine.” You bite your lip and shut your eyes as he fucks you. “I’m only yours.” You breathed, “I only want your cock inside me, Jungkook..”   

You feel his cock throb and twitch inside you and then he climaxed, white hot cum shot into the latex. You gasped and pushed your hips up toward him while he came. He pulled out removing the condom, his cum shot on your clit. You reached your second orgasm feeling his cum still spilling against your folds.  

“Fuck. I might’ve been too serious for our own good.” He went to your bathroom to get a towel. He dropped the towel on your sensitive nether region. Once he tried to clean out his you flinched shivering from your previous overstimulation.  

Kookie grinned like a fool at what he had accomplished. Once he threw the towel in his laundry basket, he laid next to you. His arms encased your waist and pulled you closer. “I can’t believe that we did that.” He kissed the top of your head.  

-

He was underneath the blanket snuggly holding onto your naked figure. You were honestly scared. You were worried that he might’ve spent the night with you because he was just drunk and nothing more. 

You tried to take his arm off of your waist in an attempt to collect your clothes and leave before he woke up, but his groans wrapping his other arm around your waist pulled you into his chest. It’s obvious at this point that he’d wake up if you move. 

Slightly shaking him, you felt your heart-rate double. “Jungkook… wake up. I need to go.” He groans a second time and stretches his legs. “Morning.” He smiled with a dazzling dreamy look. “I have to go, can you take your arm off of me.” You tried prying his hand off of you.

“It’s a weekend… you don’t have to go.” He then began to pepper kisses all over your face heading towards your neck. “Okay! Okay! Stop it that tickles.” You laugh. “I thought I was a one night stand.” You mumbled laugh dying down. He suddenly jumps into a sitting position. “What? Of course not. I care about you and I have since high school.” He held you close once more.

 “Is there something that happened in high school that I completely erased from my memory. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to invalidate your feelings but what is it that you remember?” You held his hand. 

His arms relaxed as he pulled you back into bed. Holding you ever so gently you sighed, you honestly could get used to this. “Well, I’ve seen you in school a couple of times. You wouldn’t really talk to me or my group of friends, like most would do. I found that unusual yet I didn’t care enough to talk to you.

Then, the whole rumor about me and my family started going around. My friends became two-faced and tried buttering me up for their own gain. I won’t get into details of what happened with my family at that time, some horrible stuff happened with my dad, he said some stuff about my deceased mother in front of his young wife. 

I told them that I wanted to change schools because of my old friends and they agreed after a week of arguments. Around that my depression got really bad. That’s when we talked for the first time on the-” 

“Roof.” You cut him off as you remembered a small detail. “Yeah, I was planning on ending it all then you entered. I remembered that you were the only one that hasn’t really spoken to me in school. I thought you were going to judge me, but you didn’t. I stepped back as I waited for you to leave so I can…

Then, you walked towards me unexpectedly and kneeled to tie my loose sneakers lace. I thought how crazy is life, the moment that the world collapsed on my shoulders you showed up to stop me from tripping on my laces. Then I started crying. 

The hug that you gave me was wordless but it made everything feel lighter. You told me that everything was going to be okay and that I’d have you by my side, a stranger.

You kept me in your arms for a good twenty minutes, once I stopped crying like a baby, you kissed my forehead and said that you’d be ready to listen to me whenever I felt like talking. I thanked you and we never saw each other again. Well, until yesterday that is.” He kissed your forehead. 

“Wow, how can I forget that? You were like a lost bunny…” You smiled holding his cheeks. “That doesn’t matter, I found you again. I won’t tell you that I love you, because it’s a little creepy and too early but I can say that I have intense feelings towards you.” He said, earning a giggle from you. 

“Me too Kookie, I have intense feelings towards you too.” You kissed his lips then placed your head on his collarbone inhaling the nostalgic scent of your teen years.

(© 2020 jiminscalicokitten, All Rights Reserved)

[watermelonsugar2612]

'MY DREAM WEDDING'

Okay- I'm sorry but I skipped some of the story, like wedding prep. I really wanted to write about their bachelor parties. In the story now, they're getting married in a week. Also, now the story is from Ginny's POV. I read a bunch of fics from her POV and fell in love. Sorry its so late too, I had exams. Now read on.

Ginny’s bachelorette

“I can’t believe we’re getting married in a week, fiance dearest!” I smiled as Harry and I sat in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. We had just finished breakfast and we had our bachelor and bachelorette party tonight. “Me too fiancee,” Harry grinned, gave me a little peck on the lips and took his dish to the sink. He put it down and washed his hands. “Are you all set for your bachelorette tomorrow?” I asked him as I washed the dishes and he changed into a shirt. “Yeah. A few of the blokes are going for drinks.” he said unimportantly. “Cool,” I said and put away the last dish. He stepped away, his shirt was buttoned except the top two buttons, and his raven locks were messy as usual. “Bye baby, I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you, I’ll miss you” he said, gave me a short kiss. “I love you too, I’ll apparate to Grimmauld if I can’t sleep okay?” I made a cute face. “Of course baby, I probably won’t be able to sleep without you anyway, I’ll miss you,” he gave me another little kiss. “Me too, I’ll miss you so much Harry,” I said again and kissed him. After a few seconds, he pulled away, “I’ll miss you, I’ll miss you, I’ll miss you!” I chanted. “How will I sleep without your little caresses and without your hand in my hair?! Gin-” he said with a raspy voice. By now, I was pinned to the back of the sink and my legs were between his. “Harry, do you think Kingsley would mind if you were a little late?” I smirked as he pulled my skirt and knickers down. He kissed me really hard. Fuck. I thought it would be the end of me. I made my way to unbutton his shirt as he kissed my neck. I tore his shirt off and he did the same to mine. I winced because of the few seconds of missed contact. He continued kissing my neck and made his way down. He kissed my collarbone and unclasped my bra, kissing my breasts. I moaned loudly. He continued his pecs and licks as my hand traveled to his junk. I stroked it a few times.“Fuck- I need to be inside you,” he groaned and I could distinctly feel his huge bulge between my legs. I quickly unbuckled his belt and took his pants off. I was already naked, so he pulled away for a brief and slammed inside me. “Harry!” I moaned at the top of my lungs. “Fuck Gin, you’re still so tight!” he said in response. He thrust at high speed and I whimpered and moaned at the pleasure. “Harder Harry! Go faster!” I moaned again and he followed my command. He thrust and continued to kiss my neck, now fondling my breast. He made way to clit and massaged it. I felt my insides tighten and he stopped massaging at once. “I’m coming, Harry! HARRY-” I clenched around him and a huge wave of pleasure overtook me. “Ginny!” he moaned and came on his high. He slowly rode us out back low. “That is going to be one to remember! I think we came in like record time,” Harry grinned. “You git, if I told you, you wouldn’t believe how much I got turned on when you told me you would miss me.” I blushed as he pulled out. “No fiancee dearest, you wouldn’t believe how much the fact that I wouldn’t have you in my arms to sleep was a problem. I really will miss-” and I cut him off with a little kiss, I didn’t want to be turned on again. Though honestly, what I was doing would probably turn us on too, so I bit his bottom lip and pulled away. “You have to get to work darling,” I grinned and pushed him away. “Ugh! Fine,” he rolled his eyes and put on a fresh set of clothing and so did I. We were in the bedroom and he apparated away with one little kiss and said, “I can’t wait to make it up to you in the bedroom tomorrow. We’ll go nonstop for hours. I’ll miss you so very much baby.” FUCK! How dare you Harry James Potter, you git! He turned me on again. I mean, me and Harry, on average would shag twice a day, but we because we weren’t going to be able to do that tonight, we’d shagged like 4 times the previous night and once in the morning, in the shower and well, the kitchen. Oh god, I’m blushing like crazy. Someone save me from this man.

Well, for my bachelorette as I had already told Harry, me, Hermoine, Luna, Hannah, Fleur, Angelina, Audrey and mum would have a few drinks at the burrow and gossip.

We were starting celebrations early, we would make dinner and make some treacle tart. Dad would be out for the night, with Harry. Oh, that little piece of eye candy, I thought about Harry and closed my eyes. Ugh, I need help. I wasn’t supposed to think about him, not today. Okay deep breaths. I spent the rest of my day definitely not thinking about Harry and the way he touched me, the fact that he had chosen me of all women, and we were about to get married, nope. Oh! And by the way, I didn’t have quidditch practice because I had taken leave for the wedding and honeymoon, so for like 2 months. It was about 6 pm, we were going to make dinner, I remembered and apparated to the Burrow. I was greeted by all of my bridesmaids (and mum). We made a big dinner and treacle tart for dessert. Now, it was about 10pm and we had all taken our seats in the large living room of the Burrow. I sat in the settee in which I would generally sit in Harry’s lap. He would softly play with my hair and give me little pecks during conversation with my family. He would feed me cookies during Christmas- “Ginny, Ginny, Ginny, GINNY!” my mom interrupted my thoughts. I had an unavoidable blush on my face. “Sorry mum! Yeah, I’m here now,” I said. “Okay, let’s play never have I ever, each time you have done something, you take a shot of firewhiskey” Angelina suggested and everyone nodded. “You go first Hermione,” she continued. “Okay, never have I ever, shagged in public.” Hermione blushed. “You gotta be more specific ‘Mione! Like a restaurant, or a clothes shop-” I was interrupted yet again by Hermione, “Okay, a restaurant?” she finished her question. “Ha! That’s simple, I have, a bunch of times!” I shrugged and I felt a tinge of blush as those memories came back to me, but I shut them off and gulped down a shot. My mum looked at me with a deadly look. “Well I haven’t!” Luna said and Audrey, Hannah, Hermione and mum chimed in and said, they hadn’t either. Fleur and Angelina downed a shot, oh my god! I had to ask Bill and George myself later. “Well, next question!” my mum interrupted before we could get really deep into conversation. “Never have I ever,” Fleur said, “ditched someone for my husband, or vice-versa?” she finished. “Tons of times!” I said as I lifted a glass high up in the air and drank it. “Wait! The time you said you got “emergency practices” or Harry or you had gotten very sick or you had to go to a team meeting or Auror function were all excuses to ditch us?!” Hermione said with her mouth agape. “Not always, but yeah most of the time, we were probably shagging,” I shrugged and took another shot. “Hermione looked furious and honestly so did everyone else, I gave a slight smile. “Never have I ever bought anything from Lady Lilac’s Lingerie,” I asked with a grin and immediately downed a shot. Everyone else looked at me with pure shock. “Do we even want to ask how many times you have bought- lingerie from there?” Hannah said with a disgusted expression. “I mean, I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve had it ripped off myself, so no probably not,” I said, suddenly in horror as I saw the number of shocked faces turned toward me. I. should. not. have. said that! It should be illegal for me to talk even when I’m slightly drunk. “Uh-uh next question?” I said with a confused smile. The faces didn’t turn away for quite a long time when mum finally spoke up, “Oh god, everyone, this is her night, let’s not be shocked by my daughters sexual appetite!” everyone laughed. “Never have I ever, had sex in the burrow, this only applies to after you moved out!” mum questioned. I downed another shot, no one else did, and the horrified expressions returned. “I can’t believe I’m asking this, but with which room, Ginny Weasley?!” mum almost screamed. I wasn’t sure if I should answer this question but my drunk brain did anyway, “Ron’s, and even the living room, when we were staying here for Christmas!” I grinned. “You are a dead woman Ginny!'' Mum got up and walked toward me. “Fuck. Sorry mum! We scourgifyed it later?” I said as I winced. Mum rolled her eyes and

sat back down. “Okay, this game is a little too much for some of us to take right now, let’s play something else,” Hermione said. “Yeah sure, let’s play 21 truths.” Angelina suggested. “Perfect!” I said. How this game worked was, we would go in a circle and say numbers, one person could say three numbers max in one turn and the person on which ‘21’ landed had to answer a question. The first few rounds went easy and I wasn’t asked anything. It was like the 6th round when, unfortunately, the 21 landed on me. “Okay, shoot a question, who wants to ask me one?” I said accepting defeat. “Well, I think since Ginny is the bride and everyone will have tons of questions for her, everyone gets to ask her one.” Hermione suggested. Everyone grinned and nodded. Fuck. I was so dead. “When was the first time you and Harry had sex and where?” Luna asked. “The room of requirement, sixth year.” I said. That one was easy, thanks Luna. I thought and turned to Angelina. “With who was the best you ever had- wait, let me reframe it, it's pretty obvious its Harry, where was it?” she asked. “Oh! Wow, that's difficult! I mean, all over Grimmauld Place I guess! The kitchen, bedrooms, living room, balcony, bathroom. The locker rooms at Quidditch pitches. And… sorry about this, but at Hermione and Ron’s wedding, in the bridesmaids room, after the ceremony, before dinner. Also, maybe in the Great Lake-” I continued but I was interrupted by mum, “Next person!” she laughed a bit and Fleur continued, “Have you ever had sex on a broomstick?” she said with a little contemplation. “Well, we tried- but it didn’t really work, we kinda tumbled to the ground and finished there, but yeah, no.” I replied. “When you were living at the Burrow, how often would you sneak into the boys room, when I had asked you not to?” mum asked. Shit. “Well…” I cleared my throat, “every night?” I said with a slight shiver and continued, “Harry would switch places with Hermione to sleep with me and at one point all of our belongings were shifted and we didn’t go to the other couples’ room.” I finished. Mum looked at me with those eyes that scared the crap out of me. Her expression softened, “oh well!” she rolled her eyes. “What is the longest you and Harry have lasted while having sex?” Hannah asked. “This is an interesting one, basically we had this bet of who could last longer and I came first after we had sex for like 2 hours. No big deal.” I shrugged as I finally took another shot of firewhiskey. “Wow!” Hannah sighed. “I’m gonna regret asking this, but how many times have you had sex in last night and this morning?” Hermione said, twiddling with her fingers. “Fuck. Do I have to answer that, you are probably going to think I’m insane…” I said insecurely. “Yeah, actually…” Angelina said softly. “Ugh. fine. No one judges me. Like six times- only because I wasn’t going to spend the night with him, so we had decided that we could do it like an extra time at night, and, and, we kinda got carried away, so we did like 3 extra times. Then in the morning, Harry had woken up late and I was in the shower, washing my hair, when he came in to brush his teeth, he saw me and got in, and it kinda just- happened. Then again, we had finished breakfast and Harry was saying that he would miss me, that he couldn’t sleep without me and I was saying it too, somehow it really turned on the both of us, so then, it's pretty obvious Harry would be late for work.” I finished, realising I had said too much. “Wow. I bet you and Harry can’t go till your wedding without having sex!” Hermione spoke up. “Of course we can!” I said loudly, but somewhere, even I knew we couldn’t, but what was wrong with a little friendly argument. “There is no way you could Ginny.” Angelina chimed in. “How can you say that?!” I said as I stood up. “Because you and Harry are like bloody rabbits! We’ve seen you at the Burrow, you cannot be kept apart from one another! Hell, you had sex like 4 extra times because you wouldn’t spend one night togehther!” Hermione said again. “That’s- different!” I said unsurely. “Okay, then prove it

Ginny!” mum said, “You can’t have sex till your wedding night, six days.” she grinned as she finished. “FINE!” I said as I took the bottle of firewhiskey and went to my bedroom. I would be sharing my room with Hermione, Angelina would be with Fleur in Bill’s room, mum would be alone, in her own room, and Luna would be with Hannah in Ron’s. I had started drinking from the bottle directly and was really drunk by now. Then realisation came rushing to me, I wouldn’t be able to have sex with Harry for six days, SIX FUCKING DAYS! I’ll probably go insane, and what about Harry’s promise to me, to ‘make it up in the bedroom’. Fuckkk!! Someone needed to kill me, this very instant. While I was mourning on the floor of my bedroom, Hermione walked in. “You are the worst Hermione! Get out!” I screamed. “What’s up?” she asked unknowingly as she came in and opened her hair. “I bet Harry and Ginny can’t go without having sex till their wedding! Meh,meh,meh,meh.” I said mockingly. “Well, I bet you can’t!” she said normally. “You bitch! I know I can’t but what will I say to Harry?! ‘Harry I can’t have sex with you for a week because my bridesmaids are such bitches for betting on my sex life!’' I continued mocking her. “Ginny, it was harmless, you don’t actually have to do it!'' She continued her business and I continued downing shots. “YES, I DO! It is now on my pride Hermione Granger!” I screamed. “Well then, do it I guess?” she said again. “Fine!” I said, pouring another shot. “But what about his promise?!” I muttered to myself but I guess I was louder because Hermione heard. “What promise?” she said as she sat down beside me and took the bottle of firewhiskey from my hand, pouring herself a shot. “Well- uh, in the morning, after we had sex in the kitchen. Ugh wait. Let me tell it to you from the beginning.” I said, sighed and continued, “We were just talking randomly about our bachelorette party tonight. We had just finished breakfast. Harry was standing near the sink of the dining room putting on a shirt, he came out, looking… What's the word, yummy? Properly buttoned up shirt, messy hair and those green fucking eyes… He said something like ‘Bye baby, I’ll miss you.’ and boy was that hot. Then I said that I would- apparate to him if I couldn’t sleep. He said, ‘I probably won’t be able to sleep without you anyway.’ I said I would miss him too, a lot. Then I was chanting into the kitchen that I would miss him. Then he was like how would he sleep without my hand in his hair and the tiny caresses I would do on his bare chest. Fuck, that chest. Mmmmm…” I said getting lost in the imagination of his chest. I was bought back from the world of imagination by a nudge from Hermione’s elbow. “Yeah sorry. So yeah the tiny caresses. He pinned me to the back of the sink and well, then we just had sex there, standing. I’ll skip the details, afterwards, we both got dressed and I said that he was a git for having me so turned on by the tiniest things and he said that it was true, he couldn’t sleep and would be thinking of me. When we were done he made a promise, ‘I’ll make it up to you in the bedroom tomorrow. We’ll go nonstop for hours. I’ll really miss you’ he said something like that and apparated away!” I finished. “Wow, you two have some serious issues. Do you have any idea why he still has that effect on you, you’ve been dating for 4 years, you're about to get married?” Hermione muttered. “I have no fucking idea! But that’s not even the problem! How will I tell him?!” I said. Me and Hermione chatted for a while and went to bed soon enough. I woke up the next morning, hungover as fuck. I had dark circles and my hair was all messy. My breath, yuck. I brushed my teeth and took a bath, went downstairs to find everyone except Hermione (who was in the shower) dressed and having breakfast. The hangover potion lay on the table and I took it and got almost instant relief from the constant throbbing of my head. “Morning guys! I just wanted to inform you that I am taking the bet!” I said proudly. “Great, we bet 100 galleons, together.” Angelina said as

Hermione walked downstairs. “Great!” I said and grabbed a piece of toast and egg. I finished and said. “The party was great! Thanks, I will see you all later.” I said as I apparated to Grimmauld Place.