#and i'm RIGHT!!!! who is that man without his crooked nose..........

[bonestrouslingbones]

finally cleaning out my pictures folder after leaving it mostly unorganized for about um. 8 or so years and stumbled across a couple very very early (as in pre-atbb) human papyrus designs and caught myself thinking "wow these designs are boring i'm so glad i broke his nose"

[tobioapple]

DRUNK ON YOU ; haikyuu!! boys and how they behave in-between your legs. ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

notes: hey! apple here, this is my first time writing a fic for Tumblr, so I hope you enjoy, I'm kinda nervous about posting this but sometimes the gooning gets to you, yk? I wanna mention my friend, who helped me beta read this thing and thank her for it. She'll prob keep beta reading proximate fics so yeah!! like and reblog if you like this. Also, I'll probably post a part 2 if asked I just can't pick what charas to write abouttt.

C.W: afab!reader, use of pet-names (slut, angel, doll, babe, etc.), oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, kissing, aftercare mentioned, add more as I write it.

nsfw under the cut!

OIKAWA TOORU:

Enjoys teasing you so he would go easy at first, placing soft kisses on your inner thighs, biting into the soft flesh harshly enough to send shivers down your spine and straight to your core

A few minutes in, after you’re practically begging for him just to touch you, he finally gives in.

You’re not his first girl, of course he’s had some experience beforehand, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. The way he travels along your folds, his tongue, sly and warm against them, turns your stomach into a knot.

He can be a little mean sometimes, getting you on the edge just to pull away as soon as your hands pull his head, chasing to relieve the need for more. Tooru takes a moment to stare at your throbbing cunt, two digits spreading the flesh open just enough to take a peek of the abused clenching walls, ready for his girth. 

Oikawa stands behind you, big hands keeping your ass up, bared chest pressed down onto the mattress. It’s been a while like this, long fingers that barely graze against your needy cunt as the buckling of your hips increases; a desperate attempt to feed the hunger of the aching hole between your now tired legs. 

“Eager, aren’t we?” Tooru’s voice comes out husky, ill intentions spilling from his pink plump lips. How could a guy so pretty be so vulgar at the same time? If seen in the streets, it would be impossible to notice the pervert he was behind those hazel, glossy eyes.

“Please, Tooru, don’t be mean.” A small grin appears on his face as he nods, you can’t see him, but know deep down that he enjoys your pleading way too much to keep a stern expression. Who could blame him though? The most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes upon was right in front of him, legs spread and ready for him to take.

You can feel the bed sinking at your feet and a wave of excitement rushes all over your body, ready to feel the fruits of your patience coming to reality. Soon, a heat hits your core, his face so close you can feel him breathing against your tainted crotch. 

“Aight, doll.” You’re pulled down against the crook of his nose, a sensation so good a small whine leaves your lips along with some cuss word he cannot care enough to try decode. “Aw, are you that needy that just me getting close makes you moan? Such an angel turned into a slut as soon as she’s underneath me.”

There is something so great about the way he talks to you, the raspy voice resonating in your ears all the way to your brain like a distorted melody. He always finds a way to make you melt in his embrace just from this, tearing every layer of decency apart like a knife against lace. 

Still, he doesn’t touch you with anything but adoration, even when he is being rough and mean, you can feel the tip of his fingers that trace on your skin like a curious child does on a carved pottery set, enough to feel the texture of it but not to break it. Experienced fingers that would shake from time to time, the thought of hurting more than he intended, restraining his overpowering strength.

A grunt escapes from his lips – Be it because of your desperate pleas of exasperation to the small kitty licks or because he actually couldn’t take one more second against your sex without drinking of you like a thirsty man. – as he finally drowns in the pool of wetness splattered all over the bare skin in front of him. Face up and down, hands that forced you to stay still while squirming and shaking like a frightened deer, pulling you closer.

It didn’t take long for the typical build up to appear down your tightened abdomen, your vision now foggy from both tears and pleasure, not allowing you to glimpse at the man behind you, even if you tried. The slick falling from his chin warned him about the now soon to happen relief, so, pitifully (Even for Tooru, who was now pussy drunk) he closed his lips and pulled away.

“No, please.”

“Come on, angel, you can take it.”

You two had a long night ahead. 

HINATA SHOYO:

Crazy stamina, could spend hours giving head and enjoy it more than getting it himself.

He’s like a puppy in heat, doesn’t even take off your panties before nastily sucking onto your clit over the fabric, wet and sloppy noises filling the room as his saliva mixes with your slick.

Gets drunk on you like two minutes in, carelessly doing all it takes to fulfil his needs, not caring if you’re squirming and crying while your thighs try to close around his head due to overstimulation. 

Literally cums in his shorts to the sight of you crying and babbling from his touch, eyes half-lidded and glossy. 

You’re lying limp on the bed, face covered in smudged eyeliner that goes all the way from your eyes to your chin. How long has it been since Shoyo slid between your legs? It certainly felt like an eternity. 

His noises were incredibly obscene, slurping on every droplet that fell from your aching cunt right into his mouth, savoring the taste as if he was drinking on a bottle of the finest European scotch. Calloused hands scoop your hips closer, impeding you from pulling away, he couldn’t have that now. 

“Fuck– I missed you so much, babe, s’fucking much. Couldn’t wait to get home and taste you.” His voice, now excused from quiet, rang in your ears like honey. “Ah– Missed you too, sho.”

His teeth caught a bit of your flesh between them, pulling just enough to make your back arch and a long moan escape your lips. 

Shoyo leaves your pussy alone – Just for a moment – tracing a line of kisses all over your lower abdomen going up to your chest until you’re both facing each other, the hotness of his heavy breathing panting against your lips.

“Taste s’good, baby, can’t get enough of you. Here, try it by yourself.” Shoyo, as sweet as he is, forces your mouth open just enough to slide his tongue inside. The muscle felt warmth and sweet on your own, exploring the cavity so passionately, you could barely keep up with his hunger.

You could sense the heat of his palm cupping your sex, instinctively grinding on it. At this point it didn’t matter anymore if the friction burned your skin, all you wanted was the pent up tingling feeling to disappear.

“Wanna come, don’t you? So eager for me.”

A sly finger presses at the entrance of your throbbing walls, teasing the exterior of it mischievously. After some seconds – That took way more self restraint from Shoyo than he expected – he finally gave you what you needed, fast and rough movements that attacked your mushy insides just right. He knew you well enough to find that forbidden sweet spot blindly. 

Your abdomen flared, cunt clenching around his fingers as his thumb pressed and circled your clit, helping to reach your high as soon as possible. Not that he needed you to do anything, his shorts were already stained from just the sight of you, fucked dumb by nothing more than his fingers. 

He noticed the way your legs shook, and how your eyes rolled all the way back, panting like a puppy while your body turned putty in his arms. “There you go, atta girl.” 

A soft cloth –more likely than not, his uniform tee– cleaned all the mess on your skin, the vulgar mix of sticky sweat, spit and your own juices, all gone as he brushed the fabric on your sore body. Once he was done, he laid next to you, placing soft kisses all over your face. 

Sure, he was amazing at making you finish, but the aftercare was top level. 

[milla-frenchy]

A summer with the Millers - Part 2

2k9 | Joel Miller x fem reader x Tommy Miller

Summary: after that first evening with Tommy and Joel, you go back for more and finally get what you want

Warnings: 18+ mdni. Virginity loss, age gap (reader is 21, Tommy and Joel are in their late 30s, early 40s), eager reader, threesome MFM, slight degradation, dirty talk, praise kink, oral (f receiving), masturbation, fingering, piv, creampies

a/n: @aurorawritestoescape thank you for beta-ing 💕🫶 dividers @saradika-graphics 🙏

series masterlist | masterlist | ao3

Part 1

Joel smirked when he heard you asking for more.

You looked at Tommy. His eyebrows were furrowed, and he scratched his temple with his thumb, a cigarette between his fingers. Flashes from the night before jostled in your eyes, and you were more sure of yourself than ever. You wanted more.

Joel took another sip of his beer before saying: “You want more? You wanna feel our cocks in your pretty cunt? Is that right, sweetheart?”

He was direct and confident, and you liked that. You would need him again to convince Tommy. 

“Yeah. That’s right.”

“Looks like we made a good impression, making her cum 3 times, Tommy.”

Joel Miller wasn't the most modest of men, but he wasn't wrong. Yesterday was perfect, and they had already taught you a lot. And finally, you had Tommy. Not totally, but you were hoping to change that tonight.

“Where’s your dad, darlin’?” Tommy asked, without looking at his brother.

“He just left for work. He asked me if I had plans, I told him I was going out with some friends.”

“Some friends… yeah, right”, Joel chuckled before leaning against the dining room table, sipping his beer.

You moved closer to Tommy, feeling him hesitant. Running your fingers down his chest, over his t-shirt. Biting your lip.

“Did you like it, Tommy? What you did to me, yesterday?”

“Jesus, of course. I loved it, darlin’.”

“Do you want more, too? Do you wanna feel my tight pussy around your fat cock?”

“Shit, baby, you can’t…fuck. You really know what you want, don’t ya?”

“I do. And I want you to be the first one thrusting in.”

You smiled at him flirtily, then turned to Joel. No hesitation in his eyes.

“Do you wanna be the second one, Joel?”

“Fuck yeah. Course I do. No need to convince me, baby.”

He stood up and moved closer to you, until his body was against yours. He placed his hand on the back of your neck and leaned you against him, breathing in your hair as your nose was nestled in the crook of his neck. You felt safe with them.

“We’re gonna take good care of you, sweetheart. Right, Tommy?”

Tommy didn't respond. He had stepped back, leaning against the wall. He took a drag of his cigarette and looked at you and Joel. 

Joel grabbed your hips and spun you around so you were facing Tommy, Joel’s cock against your ass. Half hard, and you shivered.

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna start over with your guilt?”

“It’s not that easy, Joel.”

“It seemed really easy when she was licking your balls while you were jerking off.”

Joel grabbed your breasts in his hands, squeezing them through the fabric of your dress as you ground against his crotch. It was so good to feel him again, and you closed your eyes to enjoy the sensations. “I'm sure Tommy would love to jerk off between your tits, while my cock would sink in your throat. Right, Tommy?”

“Can’t you stop talking like that and let me think? She’s a virgin for christ’s sake. It’s not goddamn porn…”

“Last night seemed like porn to me”, added Joel, while he caressed your ass with his big hand, and admired the way you arched against him. “And really good porn, by the way. Don’t worry, baby. He plays the grumpy guy, but when he’ll see you all splayed on his bed, he’ll be dying to pop your cherry.”

“Tommy… You wouldn't want a stranger to take your best friend's daughter's virginity in the back of a car, would you? A boy, or a man of your age, who would hurt me, maybe? Better make sure it happens safely, don’t you think?”

Tommy shook his head and put out his cigarette in the ashtray. Then he slowly moved closer to you. Joel placed his hands on your hips again and held you against him. Tommy's gaze was fixed on you.

“You’re trouble, ain’t you?”

“I’m just a 21 year old girl and I wanna have fun on my summer vacation...” you pouted.

Joel chuckled. “She’s giving you a hard time, ain’t she?”

“She is. Always been a little brat, this one”, said Tommy. Eyes fixed on yours, he ran his index finger along your cheek. Seemed like he couldn’t resist your eyelashes and angelic smile.

“Ok. If that's what you want, baby, we’re gonna give it to ya. I ain’t gonna fight all summer. But!” he said, raising his index finger. “Your father will never know. You ain’t doing stupid shit in front of him. He can’t know. Are we clear?”

“Yes, of course, Tommy.”

“Are you on birth control?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry about that.”

“Perfect! So we have an agreement. Let’s fill up that pussy” Joel said, his nose brushing your neck.

“Seriously, Joel? How romantic of you…”

Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw Joel shrug. “It’s not exactly like she needs to be seduced. Can almost hear her dripping on the floor.”

Tommy leaned towards you, placing his hands on your cheeks and kissed you. His tongue searched for yours and you quickly gave it to him. Joel kissed your neck, pushing his cock against your ass, and your panties were really already soaked.

“We’re gonna go to my bedroom. Ain’t gonna take your virginity on a fucking table or the couch.”

Tommy took your hand and led you to his bedroom, Joel following behind you. You could feel his stare on your ass and you swung your hips. You heard him say “naughty little thing…”, chuckling.

A small lamp was bathing the bedroom in a dim red light. They didn't waste any time and undressed you. Removing your dress then panties. They covered you with kisses, caressing almost every inch of your skin.

“Lie down on the bed, darlin’”, Tommy asked.

You obeyed, putting your head on his pillow. Naked. The two men stood at the foot of the bed, still dressed. You felt desired, knowing how hard their cocks must be. You felt a little scared too. But the way the previous evening had gone made you think everything would be fine. You knew deep down that they would be perfect.

“Show me. Show me how you make yourself come, thinking about me.”

Your breathing quickened and you felt heat reach your cheeks. You slipped your hand between your thighs, and caressed your soaked folds.

“Open your pretty legs, sweetheart. Show us your little virgin cunt.”

You spread your legs, hoping that the dim light would allow them to see your wetness already leaking onto the sheets.

“You're soaked, baby. You want it so bad, fuck… yeah, just like that. Keep touching yourself. Jesus, that’s hot.”

You kept caressing your folds, sometimes your clit, until the sensations made you close your eyes.

“Don’t. Eyes open baby. Look at us.”

You opened your eyes and spread your thighs further apart, as your moans filled the room. Eager to show them how much you wanted them. 

“Do you say my name when you finger yourself?”

“Y… yeah. I do.”

“Do it, then.”

Joel unzipped his jeans and pulled out his cock. Grabbed it with his big hand. You thought about how he brushed it against your folds the night before, until his cum drenched them. Until he made you cum against his shaft.

You moaned and whispered “Tommy,” not taking your eyes off Joel and it made him smile.

“Oh, baby girl…you're gonna moan my name tonight too, don’t worry.”

“Fuck… I gotta pump my cock. That’s so hot. Keep going, baby. Come on your fingers.”

You swirled your finger gently against your clit as you were looking at them jerking off, and when the orgasm made you arch your back, you moaned “Tommy”, eyes fixed on him that time.

“Fuck… ok. That’s one, sweetheart.”

The two men got undressed and lied down against you. You kissed them in turn, their hands roaming your body.

“You’re fucking hot, baby, you know that?”

Tommy’s tongue was buried in your mouth and you couldn’t respond.

“Lemme taste her on your fingers, sweetheart. I jerked off this morning, thinking about her.”

You pulled back from Tommy and said “Really? You jerked off thinking about… me and my pussy?”

“Course I did. Come on, lemme taste her again.”

You brought your fingers to his mouth and he licked them, eyes staring into yours.

“I could eat that pussy every day, you know.”

“Fuck, Joel…”

Tommy placed his hands on your hips and turned you towards Joel. You felt Tommy’s cock poke between your thighs and he lightly rolled his hips.

“Fuck, darlin’. Can’t believe you’ve got the nerves to be here. With us. Can’t believe you’re letting me fuck your thighs.”

“Yeah, by the end of the summer I wonder what part we won’t have fucked or licked.”

The idea gave you goosebumps. Joel really wanted to keep this going all summer and you loved that.

“Fuck I gotta stop or I ain't gonna last.”

“That would be too bad, Tommy, right? I’m not sure I could wait for you to be hard again. Your brother would have to be the first one fucking me…”

“You’re testing me, darlin’”, said Tommy. “But you know… your first time is tonight and I’m gonna be gentle. But once it’s done, I might be rougher next time we fuck.”

You barely had the time to smile and say “next time?!”, that Joel pushed you onto your back and slid his hand up to your pussy, pushing a finger into your soaking cunt and started to pump you gently. “Finger her with me, Tommy. Gotta stretch her before you fuck her.”

“Oh, shit,” you breathed when Tommy's finger joined Joel’s.

They worked you open and kissed your lips, cheeks and neck and you felt like you were in heaven. The lewd noises from your pussy left no doubt about your wetness.

“I’m gonna eat ya baby. Gonna make you come on my tongue. And then your crush will fuck you, ok? You want me to go down on you?”

“Yes, yes Joel, please.”

“That’s a good girl”, he praised you. Kissed your cheek and settled between your thighs.

Soon, his moans between your folds were the only thing you were hearing, while Tommy was sucking and licking your tits.

“You’re perfect, baby, you know that? Can’t wait to fuck you. To feel your cunt squeezing me.”

You were moaning too now, and could barely answer him. Joel’s tongue was buried deep in your core as his thumb gently stroked your clit.

“You’re gonna come, baby? My brother’s gonna make you come?”

“Yes, yes, fuck!” you whimpered.  

You came on Joel’s tongue and he kept drinking all the wetness that was leaking out.

“That’s two, baby.” He smiled and brushed his mouth and chin with the back of his hand.

“Alright. You’re ready for me, darlin’?”

“Yeah. Need to feel you in me, Tommy. Please.”

“So polite. Not a little brat anymore, uh?”

“Our little brat wants that cock and she’s gonna be docile now, until her eager cunt is getting fucked.”

Their filthy mouths were driving you crazy. You loved being used and they just knew it.

Tommy settled between your thighs as Joel sat against the headboard, stroking your shoulder. The younger brother grabbed his cock and looked at you, as if to check that you were still ok. You nodded and he slid his tip into your entrance, but stopped when he quickly felt a resistance.

“You said you played with dildos?”

“Yeah but… more with my clit, and not really far in my pussy, you know…”

“Jesus, baby… ok, ok. Unless you want me to stop, I won’t stop now. Fuck it.”

“Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

He pushed lightly again and you spread your legs further, trying to make things easier.

“Let me in, baby”, he growled. “Let me in”. He seemed wrecked already. As if you were the one in charge. You felt strong and powerful and you loved the feeling. He pushed, his nose against your cheek and his hands around your neck while yours were on his hips.

You were afraid he would never fit in your tight cunt. You breathed slowly and deeply to calm your worry, and suddenly your body gave way and he thrust into you. You moaned and grimaced, digging your nails into his flesh.

“Shit, that’s fucking hot…” You opened your eyes to see Joel standing in front of the bed, slowly jerking off. You hadn't noticed that he had gotten up, too focused on Tommy who was finally giving you what you wanted.

“Yeah, look at me baby. Look at me. You’re ok.”

“She’s fuckin’ tight, Joel, fuck…”

“Course she’s tight. First cock she’s taking. You’re doing great, baby. Look what you’re doing to me? How hard you make me, when I’m watching you being fucked?”

You nodded, while looking at him fisting his cock.

The pain was gone and Tommy was filling you perfectly, grunting in your neck. Fucking your cunt slowly, to enjoy its tightness, or maybe to avoid coming too soon. 

You ran your hands through his hair. The way his pelvis rubbed against you made another orgasm build.

“I want you to cum at the same time as me, Tommy. Will you do that?”

“Yeah, yeah I can do that.”

You felt your body contract deep inside you, felt the heat. And you really wanted Tommy to come at the same time as you.

“How does it feel Tommy?”

“Feels good. So fucking good.”

“Yeah? You like fucking your best friend’s daughter?”

He felt his balls tightened and said “shit. You want my cum? You want me to fill you up?”

You didn’t respond right away, rubbing yourself against him more. Then you whispered in his ear “you said I was a slut, yesterday. Fill up your slut, Tommy.”

His cock pulsed inside you and for the first time, you felt hot cum filling your pussy. His jolts made you come and you felt weakness in your legs, while your eyes were seeing stars.

You and Tommy were struggling to calm down your breath, but the sound of Joel's wrist fisting his cock was obsessing you.

Tommy kissed you before rolling onto the bed next to you. You heard Joel say “that’s three.”

He moved closer to the bed, still jerking off. “Can I fuck you too baby? You think you can take me or it’s gonna be too much?”

You nodded. And as the day before, he said “words, baby.”

“I want you to fuck me. Wanna feel you too. Come lie between my thighs, please Joel.”

He knelt between your legs, and spread your folds with his thumbs. Watched his brother's cum flow onto the sheets. His cock twitched, precum making it glisten.

“Please, Joel”, you begged. His hand led his tip to your entrance. He sank in, slowly but didn’t stop. Said "fuck… there we go" through clenched teeth. He was slightly thicker than Tommy, and you felt your walls part as his shaft sank in until he bottomed out. He pulled back and spat on his cock, mixing his saliva with your wetness. You moaned when you watched him. He was hot, way too hot. They both were, and you already wanted more. Even if he was still between your folds. He lay back between your thighs, and kept his eyes fixed on yours, until his length was fully buried in you. Then he held your hands on each side of your head, and fucked you. He didn’t stop, and kept stretching you. But he was careful not to hurt you. You just knew he could be really rough, but he cared and respected you, your body, your first time. You could hear his cock, thrusting in your cunt, soaked with your wetness and his brother's cum.

“You were right, Tommy. So fuckin’ tight.”

“Yeah. Almost nutted when I sank in.”

“Can you imagine, fucking her if we both were 21? We wouldn’t even have the time to thrust our entire shaft before shooting our load.” They both laughed.

You didn't take your eyes off him. It was hard to believe that Tommy had just taken your virginity a few minutes ago, and that Joel was fucking you at that moment.

“Joel”, you murmured.

“Yeah, baby girl. Told ya you’d moan my name tonight.”

Tommy leaned over and kissed you. Then he took your chin between his fingers and said "come on, darlin’. Let my brother enjoy your little pussy clenching on him. I can see your pretty eyes rolling in the back of your head again. Cock dumb, huh?"

He looked at Joel and said “another one is coming. She’s fuckin’ gone.”

“I’m gonna come”, growled Joel. “Oh fuck, baby… gonna fill you too.” You couldn't even hear him anymore, as your body spasmed and you came one last time. Borderline overstimulated, you felt like your pussy was never going to stop squeezing his cock. He stayed buried in you a few minutes, trying to calm down. Then he rolled on his back and chuckled “4. 4 fucking times. Fuck.” Tommy laughed and lit a cigarette.

Summer was really about to begin.

***********

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

Other virginity loss fic: After (qz!Joel)

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[fanficsandcodposts]

Thinking about Simon seeking out his ex-girlfriend after their break up 2 years ago

Please, don't go, Simon.

That was the last thing you begged as tears streamed down your flushed cheeks. Simon said nothing as he turned and threw his rucksack over his shoulder. The door felt heavier that night; it took more force to shut it behind him. He hurried to his car and drove off, only glancing once in his rearview mirror. You deserve better; it's all for the best. Simon told himself. You needed someone who could love you properly. It is all his fault you fell for him, a man who doesn't know how to love. He knew you noticed the hesitation when he would answer, "I love you too," but it wasn't because he didn't mean it. He did love you, but it terrified him.

Now, he stood in front of a quaint home in the suburbs. The sun has set, and only the street lamps illuminate the small piece of paper with your home address written on it. Johnny had forced the issue for Simon to reconnect with you again; being estranged for two years, Simon had all but imagined it was too late to tell you how sorry he was. Still, to this day, he loved you more than anything, and he hated his past self for running away from the best thing that ever happened to him.

Simon took in a deep breath. He felt too exposed without his mask, but he hoped you would see how serious he was—no more hiding. He was nervous to see your face again. He wondered how you might have changed in the two years since he last saw you. Do you still wear your hair long, or maybe you cut it short? Do you still get red in the face when you accidentally snort when you laugh at something you find hilarious? Most importantly, though, will you still have love in your eyes when you see me again after all this time?

Simon stopped at your bright maroon front door and placed the small piece of paper in his jacket pocket. He reached up his right hand and produced a loud knock on the wooded door. He held his breath as he heard footsteps approaching from the other side. He nervously looked down at the ground as the door swung open, then looked up to see you. You looked just as beautiful as the day he walked away. You stood staring at him with wide eyes before you finally spoke, "Simon?" Simon stood stone still, unable to speak; his heart was racing so quickly he worried you could audibly hear it pounding in his chest. He took in a breath to form a word that fell dead on his lips. A man rounded the corner holding a healthy-looking baby. "Whose knocking at this hour?" You turned to look at the man and child, and before you could turn back, Simon had already begun to hurry down the steps to your front porch.

"Wait!" You yelled as you shut the door behind you and ran after Simon. He almost made it to the road before you grabbed onto his strong bicep. "Stop running from me!" You managed to choke out. Simon turned to you, but he wouldn't meet your gaze. He stared down at the cracked cement when he spoke. "I'm sorry."

"That's it?" You stared at him, crossing your arms tightly. "It's been two years since you disappeared, and you've come all the way here just to say you're sorry?" Simon finally gained the courage to look at you again. His eye found yours, and his heart began to sink. There was that same sorrowful expression, only this time, it bared more weight. "Ya, just wanted to apologize for what I did."

You tilted your head to the right as you gazed upon Simon's features, highlighted by the street lamp above. He showed up on your front porch without a mask, exposing his scars and his slightly crooked nose you adored. You had collected snapshots of all his imperfections that made him unique. Kept safely in your mind's memory, in hopes you would never forget them. "I'm sorry; I should have never come here." Simon looked over to your home and then back to you as his jaw flexed. "You have a beautiful family." You looked at him, puzzled; then, finally, it hit you. "Simon, that was my brother and nephew." Simon shifted his stance and stared back at you. Relief washed over him, and he finally relaxed his shoulders. "Oh, I…I just assumed. Sorry." You stood comfortably in the silence before you spoke again. "Yeah, well, after you left, I couldn't stay in the apartment anymore. I moved out here and have been renting this beauty for a little while now." You looked over to your home proudly before you looked back over to Simon. "It's pretty close to the zoo, so my brother and his family are staying with me to save some money."

Simon cleared his throat with a quick cough and looked around the quiet neighborhood. It was in an attempt to compose himself; while the worry was gone that you were with a new partner and child, he still needed to make this long overdue apology count. "Well, are you going to say anything or just stand there?" Your voice broke through the heavy silence. "Look I..I fucked up, big time. I'm sorry. If there is anything I can do for you to forgive me, say it, and it's done."

You looked up at Simon, eyes still filled with heartbreak. You were so angry at him for leaving; every other partner paled in comparison to him. You loved Simon Riley for the man he was. You had thought you had worked through most of the insecurities and given him enough kisses of praise to cover his fears of inadequacy. You accepted all of him, but that had to have been terrifying. Maybe you pushed too far too quickly. You meant it when you told him you loved him, and you thought he felt the same. You can only do so much for someone who needs to work on themselves. Sometimes, it's letting them figure it out on their own. However, he's done a good job of working on his ability to apologize, it seems.

"Do you love me, Simon?" You asked straightforwardly, getting directly to the question you wanted confirmation on. "I do, I love you. More than I've ever loved anyone." He answers with a slight grin and half-hearted chuckle. You take a deep breath in your nose and exhale out your mouth with a huff. "If I let you back in, Simon, I swear to God, if you walk away again, I'll never forgive you." You say as you poke your finger on Simon's chest. "My love, the only way I'd ever leave you again is in a body bag." Simon holds onto your hand that was poking him, and his left-hand reaches up to caress your cheek. Automatically, you fall into his touch, closing your eyes at the sweet, welcoming feeling. Simon retracts his hand, and before you can protest, he pulls you into a warm embrace.

"Not a fan of crowds, but I would like to go with you to the zoo, if you'd have me?" You hum into Simon's chest as you breathe in his scent of gun-power and sandalwood. "Sure, we can go together, Simon."

[plasticflowersinahistorycemetery]

❤︎ first meeting ❤︎

❤︎ Dean x Peach ❤︎

Warnings: language, dirty thoughts, finger sucking (kinda, you'll see), kissing.

Word Count: 1,575

The bar was loud, lit like a crime scene, and smelled like beer-stained wood and desperation. Exactly Dean's type of place.

He pushed through the crowd with that same shoulder-rolling swagger he always wore, the kind that made space for him without a word. He looked like trouble and smelled like smoke, leather, and something meaner. A hunter's scent. A man who never stayed long.

And then he saw you.

Pink. Glossed. Sweet.

You were perched at the far end of the bar like a fucking hallucination—legs crossed tight, sipping a strawberry milkshake with extra whipped cream, pink heels dangling like they had no idea the kind of power they held.

A tiny denim skirt clung to your thighs like it was scared to fall off. Your tank top was white, sheer enough to haunt, and your bra had bows. Of course it did. You had that coquette weaponised thing going—glitter lashes, glossy lips, heart-shaped earrings swinging like bait.

And you were staring at him. Straw between your teeth, pink nails tapping your glass.

Game over.

Dean's mouth twitched, crooked grin already forming. He could smell you before he even got close—something syrupy and soft, like peaches, candy floss, and body heat. Your scent made his teeth ache.

He leaned against the bar beside you, forearm brushing yours like an accident. It wasn't.

"That's not a real drink," he said, nodding at the milkshake.

You blinked slowly, lashes catching the low bar light like glittering spiderwebs.

"And that's not a real shirt," you replied sweetly, eyes dragging down his Henley, across the curve of his chest. "But here we are."

Dean barked a laugh. It caught in his throat. You were sharper than you looked. He liked that. Too much.

"You always drink dessert?" He asked, already half-certain you weren't real.

"Only when I'm bored," you said, twirling your straw. "And I'm really bored, cowboy."

You said it like a dare. Like you already knew he'd take the bait.

Cowboy. Shit.

Dean could feel the heat crawl up the back of his neck. You tilted your head, bare shoulder slipping forward with the movement, and smiled like you were about to get away with murder.

"You look like candy," he said, voice low. Gravel and intent.

You didn't miss a beat.

"Wanna taste?"

Dean's pulse tripped in his throat.

For a second, he didn't speak. Didn't��breathe. He just looked at you—looked at that pink pout and the syrupy way your voice curved around those two little words like you'd rehearsed them in the mirror. And maybe you had.

Maybe you practiced wrecking men for fun.

He huffed a quiet breath through his nose, licked his lips.

"Damn right I do," he said, his voice rougher than it had any right to be.

You smiled like you'd expected that answer. Like you'd given him a choice just so he could feel like he had one. You hadn't. You never did.

Dean reached for his drink—half to cool the heat clawing up his spine, half to keep his hands from doing something stupid, like grabbing you by the hips and seeing if your lipgloss tasted like strawberries and sin.

He downed the last of the whiskey and set the glass down with a quiet thunk. Cleared his throat.

"Come sit with me."

You blinked up at him, all lashes and amusement. "Why?"

He let himself grin, slow and easy. Let himself stare.

"So I can watch you walk in those heels."

Your expression didn't change, not really. Just sharpened. Something shifted in your eyes—glinting, glittering. Knowing.

You slid off the barstool without another word.

And fuck, it was worth it.

The tap of your pink pumps against the worn floorboards was hypnotic, each step a spell. Your hips swayed like you'd choreographed it, that tiny denim skirt riding up with every movement, threatening to give him a goddamn aneurysm. The top of your thighs caught the light—soft, warm skin that made Dean's hands twitch with the urge to mark them.

Every man in the room turned to look. Of course they did. But Dean didn't just look. He watched. Like a man starved. Like someone watching salvation walk toward the fire and inviting it to burn him alive.

You slid into the booth like silk, sitting not across from him, but beside him—close enough that your thigh brushed his. He could feel your heat through his jeans, feel the hum of danger buzzing under your sugar-sweet perfume.

"You happy now?" You asked, lifting your milkshake to your lips.

Dean didn't answer. Not with words.

He watched you take a sip. Watched your tongue flick out to catch a smear of whipped cream. Watched your pink-painted nails twirl the straw like you were thinking about wrapping them around his cock instead.

"You still want that taste?" You murmured, just loud enough for him to hear.

His breath caught. "You offering?"

You didn't say anything. Just reached for the cherry perched on top of your drink—slow and dainty, fingers pinched delicate around the stem. And then you turned to him, lifted it like it was some kind of offering.

"Open up."

Dean parted his lips, not thinking, not hesitating. He couldn't have stopped himself if he tried.

The cherry brushed his mouth first. Then your fingers followed. Just one. Pressing past his lips with the softest pressure. He closed around it automatically—hot tongue curling, breath shuddering.

"Suck."

That voice. That word.

He did. Of course he did.

Your finger lingered in his mouth, tasting of whipped cream and something warmer—skin, sweat, sugar. Dean swore he could feel your pulse against his tongue, so he let his teeth graze, just enough to make a point.

You inhaled, a little too fast, and he felt the satisfaction bloom dark in his chest.

Then you pulled back—slow, languid. Let your finger trail his lower lip as you slid it free, wet and glistening. You popped it into your own mouth and sucked it clean.

Dean almost moaned.

"Good boy," you whispered.

He looked at you. Really looked. And for a second, he couldn't remember a single reason not to drag you into his lap and make you say it again.

"You always this dangerous, sweetheart?"

Your lips curved, soft and deadly.

"Only when I'm entertained." A pause, eyes flicking to his lap with a wicked little smirk. "And right now? I'm pretty damn entertained."

Dean shifted, jeans tight, thoughts worse.

"How old are you?" He asked suddenly. The words came out like gravel. Like a prayer.

Your smile didn't falter. If anything, it grew.

"Why?" Then, tilting your head, syrup-sweet, "You want me to call you Daddy?"

His breath left him in a curse. Sharp. Guttural.

You giggled—light, bright, like music box chimes strung up with barbed wire—and leaned in. Close enough to smell the vanilla on your skin. Close enough that your thigh pressed tight against his.

"Relax, cowboy." A soft brush of your fingers down his chest. "I'm legal. Very legal. Promise."

Dean dropped his head back against the booth. Swore again, quietly this time.

He was gonna die tonight. And it was gonna be pink.

After a while, you'd gotten up to put a song on the duke box. Dean didn't even remember what song you picked. Just that you swayed to it when you walked away, hips moving like rhythm had been born in your bones.

He'd watched you go, of course. Watched your skirt ride up. Watched men watch you—and had to grip the edge of the table just to keep from following like a dog.

But he followed anyway. Of course he did.

You were already slipping down the hallway by the bathrooms when he caught up—glancing over your shoulder, knowing damn well he'd come after you.

"Lost, cowboy?" You asked, voice light. Mocking.

Dean didn't answer.

He reached for you instead.

One step, two—your back hit the wall with a soft thud, and his hand came down beside your head, palm pressed flat to the old wallpaper, trapping you there like he was trying to catch his breath and cage you at the same time.

You didn't flinch. Didn't blink.

You smiled.

"Took you long enough."

He didn't kiss you gently. He couldn't. It was all teeth and want, all hunger and heat, his mouth crashing down on yours like it'd been aching to. And it had. God, it had.

Your hands curled in his shirt immediately—fisting the fabric, tugging him closer. You kissed him like you were tasting ownership, like this was yours to take. And maybe it was.

Dean groaned into your mouth when your teeth grazed his lower lip—when you sucked it into your mouth like a cherry and bit down, just a little too hard.

"Fuck," he hissed, pulling back just enough to breathe. His eyes burned. "You're gonna be the death of me."

You blinked up at him, all flushed cheeks and smeared gloss, and smiled so sweetly it made his stomach twist.

"Only if you're lucky."

Then you leaned in again, dragging your tongue along the corner of his mouth—slow, claiming. Like he was dessert.

Dean's hands found your hips, then the back of your thighs, gripping tight, dragging you closer until you were pressed against him, chest to chest, heartbeat to heartbeat. Your skirt rode high. You didn't fix it.

"What are you doing to me," he muttered, more to himself than you.

You leaned close to his ear, breath hot.

"Whatever I want."

And then, just as quick, you were slipping from his grip—ducking under his arm, heels clicking away down the hall. You turned at the end, walking backward for just a second.

Your lips were swollen. Your gloss was gone. Your smile? Ruined him.

"See you around, cowboy."

Dean stood there in the hallway, panting, dazed, and hard as hell. Hand braced against the wall, chest rising and falling like he'd just walked out of a fire. He didn't even get your number.

Worse yet?

He didn't even get your goddamn name.

A/N: AHHH!!!!! Okay, okay... how do we feel? How are we doing? I saved the best for last (not really, because I love all these girls equally, but come ooon) Peach is an absolute fucking menace. I am really enjoying this series. I've got so many ideas for each girl and it's not even funny how much I just wanna keep writing. But it's now 4:20am (ha. 420) and I need to sleep before I decide to pull an all-nighter. Again. I hope you are enjoying these as much as I am. Let me know, please! All the love.

@mostlymarvelgirl @losers-clvb @lunaleah @itshellfire @drakulana @sl33pylilbunny @suckitands33 @nevercameraready @0ccvltism @lyarr24 @podiumackles @spxideyver @tinas111 @cevansbaby-dove @paristheonewhoreads @winchestersbgirl @blossomingorchids <3

[rorasjournal]

Comfort in shadows | Azriel

lil short azriel fluff to start off my journey on tumblr hehe

pairing: azriel x reader

synopsis: y/n is stressed out about her responsibilities, and there’s only one person who can soothe her anxiety

word count: 819

warnings: none really, maybe some light man handling

~

The balls of my knuckles turn white as my grip on the terrace rails tighten while I stare out at the night swept view of velaris laid out in the distance, anxiety plaguing my mind. I've been trying to distract myself from all the thoughts gushing around for the past hour, but nothing has been working.

There's just too much going on right now, too much that I feel the need to deal with all on my own, and I'm fucking tired.

Whispering shadows cling to my skin, dancing along my body before strong arms are wrapped around my waist, pulling me flush against a familiar chest.

"It's cold out here," Azriel mutters, tucking his face into the crook of my neck and pressing a soft kiss there. Closing my eyes, I lean my head back against his shoulder.

"I know."

"So why are you out here?"

When I don't reply, Azriel spins me around, sandwiching me between the rail and his body and forcing our gazes to meet. "What is it?"

I don't want to talk about any of it, especially not to Azriel. He's always so calm and collected, dealing with his responsibilities with so much grace and without complaint. I don't know how to be like that. "Nothing."

He lowers his face to mine, our noses brushing together and pulling the air from my lungs as he whispers, "I thought we were done with the lies."

"I'm not lying," I insist, ultimately webbing myself up in more deception regardless of the fact that Azriel clearly sees straight through me. He doesn't even need to use his shadows to figure me out.

A breath passes through his nose before he scoops me up, dangling me over his shoulder and walking inside while I yell out in detest.

"Put me down, asshole!"

"Gladly," he says, flipping me so my back hits the mattress of our bed. He's on top of me in a flash, his mouth attached to my neck as he sucks on my sensitive skin. My breathe hitches in my throat, a hand instinctively reaching to his head and threading my fingers through his dark hair. "What's going on?" he asks again, mumbling the words against my neck as he continues his work.

So that's what he's doing. Azriel is turning my mind to mush so he can get an admission out of me. Slick bastard.

Smart bastard though.

"I just—" I'm not sure if I'm struggling to get the words out because I don't want to say it out loud, or because his tongue is running up the base of my neck. "I'm stressed out, I don't know. Rhys wants me dealing with the Autumn Court and Beron is just such an asshole, I don't know how to handle all of this at once."

Pulling away, Azriel looks at me with furrowed brows. "Why was that so difficult for you to tell me?"

I turn my cheek against the mattress to avert my gaze, but Azriel grips my jaw, forcing me back.

What is with him and male-handling me today?

"Can you not see how it would be embarrassing admitting that I'm overwhelmed to the spymaster, the shadow singer who always keeps his head level, who always knows what's going on and how to deal with it?"

With a sigh, Azriel sits up, grabbing one of my hands to urge me up as well.

"I think you of all people should know that I've lost my cool a few number of times.”

“Yeah, a few," I reply with a roll of my eyes. "That's a few hundred less than me."

The corner of his mouth ticks up. "Y/n."

"Azriel."

That just makes his smile grow. "You know it's okay to ask for help, right?" he whispers, tenderly tucking a lock of my hair behind my ear as I lean away. "Especially from me."

"But that's my point, I shouldn't need to ask for help. I should be able to deal with this on my own like everyone else does."

"There's not one person in this court that hasn't needed assistance from the others at one point or another, and I'm pretty damn sure you should know that considering it's usually you that's doing the assisting." He chuckles. "You don't even realise you're doing it, do you."

I sigh, leaning over and resting my forehead on his chest as he drapes an arm across my shoulders, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

"You're the strongest person I know, that's not going to change just because Beron is pulling your strings."

"I wish you didn't always sound so wise, it makes it hard for me to not listen to your advice."

His chest rumbles as he laughs quietly. He completely scoops me up into his arms, dragging me onto his lap as he whispers, "I will always be that reassuring voice in your ear."

[guillotinna]

Very domestic simon riley fluff

Simon riley x gn! Reader

________________________________

"What are you doing in here? Besides racking up my water bill?" You hear simon ask as he weaves his arms around your waist.

"Cleaning makeup brushes," you reply lightly. There's no need for a higher volume as Simon has placed his chin on the slope of your shoulder. Crouched over comically to achieve the position. "What's this one for?" "Blending". "What about this one?" "Contour" he replies only in soft hums of acknowledgment. This process carries on, noise of the running water only broken up by sparse questions from the man clinging to you. "Whats the clown nose for?" "It's a makeup sponge, babe. And would you believe me if I said blending?" "Cheeky" he replies as he borrows his face into the crook of your neck. You ordered him to go take the nap he said he desperately needed, not even 30 minutes ago. "Come with me," he pleads. "I'm not done yet. Just go without me. I'm right here. " The last part acting as an attempt to ease his ever-present worries. "It's not the same." You chuckle at the pouting, 6 foot 5 inch man adhered to you. With a sigh, you place the brush you were cleaning down and decide the chore can go unfinished for now. Simon perks up at the sound of the faucet turning off, dragging you to the bed almost before you had the chance to completely dry your hands. You both get in your respective positions: Simon, nearly on his stomach, strong arm slung over your body and face back in its usual spot in the crook of your neck. You, on your back, powerless under the weight of his body and love while mindlessly scrolling on your phone. A few minutes of tranquil silence pass before Simon lets out a small grunt, one you know the exact meaning of. As if on autopilot, you place your free hand in his hair, or what little he has of it due to the mandated buzzcut, and slowly massage. Within minutes, the brute of a man is out cold. The small puffs of his breath leave a wake of goosebumps on your skin, and your arm is starting to ache from the odd angle, but nothing in the world could pull you from your love sick stupor. So, you remain locked under the mass of the man you dedicate your entire being to and who returns the favor tenfold. Spiritually and physically, you are at his mercy, and he yours. As it should be and how it will remain lifetime after lifetime.

[asuyaka]

It is currently 3AM for me rn so apologies in advance if this looks like it was typed by a drunk person,

I've had this idea at random, but I'd like to request Teen!Gojo with Male!Reader(who Gojo has a fat crush on) who is very physically affectionate and by the power of plot armor has the a ability to break through Gojo's infinity. And so he uses this power, not to beat the living shit out of Gojo but rather to sneak behind him and either give him bear hugs from behind or tickle his sides whenever he isn't looking.

★ - Thank you for requestin' anon !! 'm in love with this concept s'muchhh!

☆ - Teen! Gojo Satoru x Plot armored! Male Reader (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

You,—contrary to popular belief— weren't a strong sorcerer.

At least not compared to the almighty Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru. The strongest sorcerers of the modern era.

Though, there is one thing about your technique that could easily make you one of the strongest. If you trained and worked with it, but that's too much work.

Your technique was sort of like Shoko's. RCT, but you had better control of it due to constant training when you were young.

So, what does a young teenager, whose bored out of his mind, do at times like these?

Stifling a giggle, you channel your cursed energy on your hands, sneaking up behind Gojo who was too busy arguing with Geto about something.

You pass through Infinity easily, grabbing Gojo by the waist, picking him up, and twirling him around. "Hi, Gojo!!"

Gojo yelps in surprise. It isn't every day—scratch that— no-one was able to get through Infinity unless he lets them. No-one except for the person holding him, who as much as he denies, has a fat, big, huge, ginormous, and massive crush on.

"[Name], it's great to see you," Geto says sharing a knowing and mocking look at Gojo, who is desperately trying to calm himself.

You keep your hands on Gojo's waist, peeking your head through the crook of the albino's neck. "Do you know when that crepe store down the street opens?

"Uhm... it opens tomorrow at 3," Gojo mutters as he pushes his glasses further up his face to hopefully hide the increasing blush on his face.

[Name] giggles happily, spinning Gojo around a few more times. "We should go when it does! It'll be like a nice little get-together!"

Geto snorts. "Ah, I won't be able to go and Shoko is... being Shoko. You and Satoru should go together don't you think?"

Gojo snaps his head up glaring daggers into his friend's eyes. He knew exactly what Geto was trying to plan, and [Name] being the absolute angel he is—

"Yeah, that sounds fun!! Just me 'n you, right Gojo?"

—agrees without a second thought.

[Name]'s hands move from his waist to his torso, a scheming smile on his face.

"[Name] don't. I swear to—"

Gojo interrupts himself with a loud laugh his hands on [Name]'s wrist, his glasses falling onto his nose as he shakes his head frantically. "S-stop it! Suguru! Do s-soemthing!"

Geto raises his hands up defensively. "Hear no evil, see no evil."

"[N-Name!] St- ah! Stop ittttt!!" Gojo's eyes are brimming with tears now, his chest heaving and his body convulsing. He hates being tickled, mostly because his body is so damn sensitive due to Infinity.

But [Name] just... God he doesn't know where to start.

You let go of his torso with a bright smile your hands immediately settling back on his waist. You were a big physical touch person if that wasn't already obvious.

"We're gonna have so much fun on this date, Gojo!"

Geto laughs at his friend's expense who was blushing. Like, whole body blushing.

Gojo swallows thickly, forcing himself to remember it was a friend date. They were just friends.

Only friends.

Fuck, he was in love with this idiot.

"Y-yeah. We'll have fun without Suguru!" Gojo is quick to regain his normal attitude. Well, as normal as it can be with the man he swears he's going to spend his life with nuzzling his neck, talking with Suguru about something he couldn't care any less about.

"I'm glad I'm not coming. I know you'll have a fun time, [Name]. Satoru has quite the surprise for you." Geto teases, drawing an air heart between the two.

"Suprise? What suprise?"

Gojo blushes it feels like his skin is going to melt off. "Nothing! Suguru is making stuff up!"

"Mhm. Sureeee."

[Name] presses into Gojo's cheek. "C'mon tell me!"

Gojo glares at his friend who just shrugs.

So much for being his best friend.

[theanonymousninja247]

Random Turtle Thunks: Kisses

*adjusts my sunglasses* It'd be softboi hours folks. Tonight I'm thinking about the Rise Boys and their favorite places to kiss you.

*Cookies and Cream Rating: 16+ please*

Raph 🧸♥️:

•Forehead Kisses. Lingering ones right at the tip of your hairline. It's often because its the only place he can reach without having to shift too far down. Often brushing your hair back, cradling your cheek in the palm of his hand and tilting your head back juuuuust a little to get that perfect angle for a small smooch. The type of kisses that are full of tender promises and small wholesome moments where he just longs to be soft with you.

•Your shoulder. Chaste presses of his lips to your skin to the crook of your neck. This young Atlas knows a little something about carrying the weight of the world and often that weight settles on the shoulders. These type of kisses serve as a reminder that he understands the struggle, the weight and promises that you don't have to carry it all by yourself anymore. A somewhat protective kiss, reminding you that nothing can hurt you when you're this close to him. That he's here for you, he’ll never leave you and will forever have your back.

Donnie 🤔🟪

•Your nose. I really don't see Donnie being really big into kissing. Like think about it. Kissing is literally just the process of swapping saliva. How uNsAnItArY. *shudders* “Just where has your mouth been? Did you even brush your teeth?!” That being said, a quick peck to your nose is a simple way to fulfill the “touch of the day” box without having to get unnecessarily close and personal. There is work still to be done after all. Not to mention the cute little face you make when you go slightly crossed-eyed at his affectionate gesture is somewhat endearing. It is a very understandable reaction after all. He too would go speechless at such attention from a genuis like himself.

•Behind the corner of your jaw. Donnie doesn't like kissing. That being said, if he is going to engage in such an act, he's going to want to do it right. Never mind him looking up the most sensitive parts of the human body to make sure he plants his affection in the most effective locations. Nevermind that at all. Besides, kissing here that little bundle of nerves seems to do the trick most adequately.

Leo✨💠

•Your lips. “My Lady, if the kisses are words, c’mere. I’ma give you a speech.” No. Like seriously. I know Leo is considered the “medical expert” of the family, but the amount of times this turtle has given you some serious mouth-to-mouth should be illegal. In all honesty though, it really does mean something special to him. For this smooth talking turtle who always knows just what to say, it’s a way for him to shut up and learn how to put some action behind those words. For once, he wants to show you that he means what he says. Because for all the silliness, it was never a joke, his feeling for you.

•Your knuckles. Leo is a one-stinking suave gentleman when he wants to be, and he's not going to let you forget it. Not to mention it’s an easy, inconspicuous way to keep you close so long your hand is entertained with his. Not that he worries when you're out of reach or anything. The cute little increase of color right there on your cheeks as he presses a slow kiss to each fingertip and between your knuckles is also a nice touch. Just lets this face man know he's on the right track or whatever.

Mikey🎨🧡

•Your cheeks. This bundle of affection will give you some sugar anytime, anywhere without hesitation. You can not stop it. It is inevitable. He's so close to you all the time anyway that it just seems second nature to have his cheek squished against you somewhere. He also just loves getting close enough to see your eyes. They really are like windows to the soul, and you have a soul he wouldn't mind getting lost while exploring. So it makes sense to decorate those “windows” with some “Angel Kisses” (He does put the angel in MichelANGELo after all) You know. Just while he's close to you like this. Never mind the heat from your cheeks underneath his hands as he tries to hold you still for your daily barrage of affection is comforting to his scared hands. Never mind that at all.

•Your tummy. There is something incredibly magical about the way you giggle shriek as you try to writhe away when he kisses your tummy. It’s the kind of laugh that means you are happy and in the present moment with him and currently the furthest away from something that hurt you. He just wants you happy and hearing that laugh heals something inside his heart. He loves the way your tummy its so squishy underneath his kneading hands and he can't help but bury his face in your soft skin. Be warned you will not escape without some raspberry blown kisses. Mikey ain't letting you leave without being properly adored that is both a threat and a promise.

[sapphic-woes]

Ambessa x princess!Reader

This is an UNFINISHED FIRST DRAFT I'm basically dumping here after asking if anyone would want to read it anyway. I repeat, it is not finished, not edited, and olllld. You have been warned! TW: Blood, gore, death, etc

____

Your vision was murky. Your corset tight, and your head throbbed something awful. Warm liquid leaked out of your nose, mixing with the sea of bloody remains at your feet.

You tried not to gag at the dismembered bodies, let alone cry. This revolt had resulted in the massacre of everyone in the palace except for you. Your family, the maids, the butlers, the chefs…everyone who had ever served your family was dead. The once vibrant walls of the palace were splattered with blood, yet still more startling screams echoed around you.

"Please…where…?" Your voice crooked, begging for the knights dragging you through the hall to speak. You had never expected the military to rise against your family like this. Yet here you were, scared of the people in uniforms you used to find safety in. They didn't say a word in response, stiff as they walked you into the throne room.

"My queen. We have brought her." You could hardly stand, held up by the two soldiers at your sides. Why haven't they killed me yet? When you had finally been caught hiding, you were certain they would kill you without hesitation. Yet here you were, alive and being brought to their leader.

"…Let her go." The arms holding you up relaxed, and you hit the floor with a groan. Your cheek pressed against the marble floor slick with blood, shivering as you saw who it belonged to.

"F-father…" You whispered in shock, horrified to see your father's lifeless body not far from you. Tears fell as you covered your mouth with your hands, poorly attempting to muffle your weeping.

In the midst of your shock, you didn't notice the figure approaching you until it was too late. Heavy footfalls made you flinch, and you gasped as a large hand shot out–painfully grasping the entirety of your face. Your stifled protests had the dark figure towering over you chuckle, and you shrunk back as the woman before you squatted down.

"Finally, I've come back for you…master." You froze, stomach twisting with dread. Only one person ever called you that. One woman who you'd hated, despised, and done everything to get rid of.

You looked up into dark gray, stormy eyes. Her smirk was still the same, eerie and downright unpleasant. Her face was smeared with blood, but you knew she didn't mind. Ambessa cooed when your eyes trembled and welled with tears, crimson thumb shifting to catch one as they fell.

"And this time, I'll never let you throw me away again."

—

You met Ambessa when you were twelve, or rather, she was thrown to meet you.

Your father chucked a small creature–no, a child–onto the ground before you, and you blinked. 

You didn't like this. Wasn't she hurt?

"Father, what–"

"You need a playmate, right? We destroyed Noxus, and I thought it would be a good present to bring back to you. Name it and do with it whatever you like. It's nothing more than a toy, understand?" Your father was a cruel man, eating up weaker kingdoms and exploiting them to expand his rule. Noxus had been no different, just one of the many kingdoms your father had decided to take over. 

Usually, he came back after war with a prized jewel or rare artifact to give you in replace of his love…but he had never come back with a living person before.

"I…" You shuffled as you glanced down at the girl before you, swallowing nervously. "I-I am in no need of a toy. I'm older now and I need to mature anyway–"

"Are you rejecting my gift?" His cold tone made your heart stutter, and you gasped as he grabbed the girl's head and jerked her neck back, unsheathing his sword. "Then if she is of no use to you, I have no need to keep such a filthy bloodline alive–"

"No! Forgive me, I spoke without thinking. It was foolish, and I am grateful. Thank you Father." Hastily you spoke, watching your father stare at you for a moment before letting the girl go.

"Good. Train it so you don't humiliate our family more than you already have." With that, your father walked out, slamming the door behind him. You let out a shaky breath before spinning around back to the child, going over to wordlessly help her get treated. Once you both had teamed up together to do a sloppy, yet decent job, you gulped.

"My condolences. To your family that is. I know you probably don't want to hear that from me but…" You bit your bottom lip, reaching out to grasp her hand. 

"I don't want a toy. I want to be your friend, and I promise I'll help you escape. So if you're okay with that, may I please know your name?" The battered and bruised girl before you sniffled. She had been silent this entire time, but now she looked up into your warm gaze. Her eyes were beautiful. Like soft clouds floating in the sky. Her voice croaked as she spoke, but luckily you made out her words regardless.

"I…am Ambessa Medarda."

—

At sixteen, you drove her away.

"Princess." A shadow cast over you, robbing you of the warm sensation of sunlight on your skin. You grimaced, blinking your eyes open. 

The intimidating silhouette above you was familiar. Hypnotizing as Ambessa crossed her arms and raised her eyebrow. Ah–you had been neglecting your studies once again, and they had sent Ambessa to come find you again.

What a poor choice. I'd rather avoid her than the duchess.

"Five more minutes." You mumbled from your peaceful spot on the ground under the cherry blossom tree. Ambessa snorted, and she bent down to slowly speak.

"Now. Do you know how angry the duchess is? You're to be betrothed soon, so she's especially adamant on your etiquette lessons. She'll complain to his majesty at this rate–and then what will you say?" You groaned as if you'd been stabbed, dramatically rising to your feet.

"Nothing. No matter what I'll say, he'll probably lock me up in that dark room for days. Better yet, instruct the maids to beat my legs till I can't stand." Thick fingers wrapped around your wrist, and you yelped as Ambessa pulled you close.

Oh, did she grow taller again? Unlike you, Ambessa seemed to always gain an inch every time she saw you. Now you had to crane your neck all the way back just to look at her face. You hated the care in her eyes. You knew about her feelings, but you had no right to accept them. You looked away, offering a wry smile to her pained expression.

"Don't look at me like that. Hopefully, whatever old geezer I marry won't be fond of such punishments." Ambessa shook her head.

"Princess, you shouldn't be dealing with this at all. Let me help you–" You stood on the tips of your toes to place your finger on her lips, gently smiling as you hushed her.

"But I do deal with it, quite often too, and if you get involved it'll just give father an excuse to get rid of you." Hands clasped behind your back, you walked backwards while keeping Ambessa's gaze. The summer breeze made your dress flutter, kind smile causing Ambessa's stomach to painfully twist.

"You are my one and only knight, and I your one and only "master"…so before I am used as a bargaining piece, I'll make sure my father can never touch you." Ambessa's face contorted, clearly wanting to object. She gripped her sword's handle, gritting her teeth.

"...What will you do?" Your eyes narrowed. You didn't want to say it out loud. You knew how much it would hurt your kind-hearted knight.

"Nothing I can't handle."Ambessa grumbled, allowing you to continue. "Please Ambessa. You can't stay here. Not when everyone treats you like you're less than human."

"But how can I leave you here?" You let out a small laugh, twirling amongst the flowers around you.

"I've lived in this rotten palace for twelve years before you came. I'll be okay for a few more before they marry me off." Ambessa let out a frustrated sigh.

"But I don't want to see you used like an object–"

"Ambessa." Your commanding tone silenced her protests. You looked down at your feet, trying not to let her words get to you.

Ambessa was the only one who cared about you, but you knew it wasn't right to abuse her kindness. While you considered her your friend, you both publicly kept up the appearance of servant and master. Worst yet, since Ambessa's position as a living trophy of war was technically less than a commoners, most of the palace's servants mistreated her behind your back. No matter how much I love her, she needs freedom more than anything else.

"But I am an object. All princesses are. Just…an object that's pampered until she can secure a national alliance." Ambessa opened her mouth to speak, but you shook your head. "Stop, I won't speak of this again. Let me do this one last thing for you–!"

Suddenly, you yelped as hands gripped your arms, roughly pulling you close. Ambessa stared down at you with furrowed eyebrows, seething as she raised her voice.

"For me? Princess, I want nothing but to stay by your side. So why do you keep insisting I leave? Are you driving me away because I told you about my feelings for you? Am I that uncomfortable to be around now?" The pain in her voice made your heart sink. She wasn't, but you decided it was easiest to lie than say the truth. 

"So what if you are? I can't have you by my side with those feelings. I told you already. You're confused, Ambessa." The words flowed easier than you'd expected. How natural was it to tear at those who loved you? To sneer through the anguish in her eyes?

"Am I supposed to love someone I own? You've mistaken my kindness for–" Your voice became caught in your throat as Ambessa's hands squeezed your arms tight, and you winced in pain.

"A-Ambessa, you're hurting me–"

"Don't say that. Don't invalidate my emotions just because they scare you." Ambessa's voice was strained, and your breath hitched as she leaned in close.

"If you knew what I thought of you, you'd never bother to question me again. I want you more than you could ever know, princess…" Slowly, Ambessa bent to cover the distance between you two. Your heart skipped a beat, and you let out a muffled sound of protest as she kissed you.

Her lips were softer than you expected. She tasted bittersweet. You didn't want to acknowledge the bubbling fluster in your chest, or how your legs grew weak. Your skin was hot, and you moaned as she gripped the back of your head and kissed you deeper–

"How dare you touch the princess?" You gasped as your chambermaid suddenly appeared, having finally found you. She was accompanied by other knights, and you gulped when they drew their swords.

"She's done nothing wrong. She...she was only confused! She m-meant no offense." You shoved Ambessa away to breathlessly speak. Your maid raised her eyebrow.

"She has defiled you. She, a trophy of war, thought herself worthy enough to touch the daughter of the king!" The knights moved toward Ambessa, and she prepared herself, but you stepped in front of her, voice hard.

"Then let me punish her. She is mine, is she not?" The maid glanced at the knights. They seemed to silently communicate before she snarled.

"With all due respect, everyone knows you treat that thing favorably. If you administer a minor punishment, word will spread that you are weak…and it will eventually reach the king." You knew her statement was more of a threat than anything, gritting your teeth in annoyance. She only wanted an opportunity to have Ambessa killed, and sadly kissing a royal was grounds enough for the guillotine.

If I don't push her away now, how long until something like this happens and I can't protect her? You knew this would happen again. You needed to protect her. You took a deep, wavering breath.

"...I will exile her from the capital and send her to the north. Are they not in dire need of manpower there?" At your words, Ambessa immediately stiffened, and you shut your eyes.

The northern border was full of monsters, and being sent there was seen as a death sentence. However, you knew that if you didn't do this your maid would rat you out to your father. Then?

He would definitely have Ambessa killed, and he would make sure you watched.

"If I do this, will you be satisfied?" The unspoken question of will you tell my father hung in the air. Your maid smirked, and you wanted to boil her alive.

"It is sufficient. Now come, there's no need to keep near a being that doesn't know her place, is there?" Your maid tilted her head with a sickly sweet smile, and the knights sheathed their swords. They won't even allow me to say goodbye. 

You had just dictated that Ambessa die a gruesome death, and now you would leave her like this? You wanted to stay and tell her your true feelings. That you did care but couldn't love her while she was forced to stay by your side like this. However, you only nodded, accepting your role and standing beside your maid.

"Good. You're becoming more like a ruler each day. Congratulations, princess. Now take it away." You wanted to gag, but instead you held your head down, as the knights moved to grab Ambessa. You tried to block out the sounds of her struggling, flinching when she called out to you.

"Princess…" You bit your bottom lip. Your vision blurred with hot tears, but if you wavered now the maid would surely tell your father. If he knew you cared for Ambessa, that you actually thought the kiss was divine…how long would it be before he got her killed? You swallowed, forcing a look of displeasure on your face as you glared at your precious knight.

"Didn't you hear? You'll be stationed in the north. Isn't it befitting?" You forced a sinister smirk onto your face, mockingly tilting your head. 

"A disgusting thing like you will be right at home with those vile monsters. Who knows? Maybe you'll find a beast that can actually love you back too."

—

That was the last time you saw Ambessa. You had abandoned the idea of happiness after that, only content with your spies updating you that she was still alive in the north. However, you hadn't known she had gained a following and power there.

You had heard of the rebels. Hell, you had hoped that they would overthrow your father and end your miserable life. However, you had never expected this.

"A-Ambessa…?" You whispered with wide eyes, shocked to see the woman you had loved right before your eyes. She was bigger now, terrifyingly massive as she stooped over you, skin riddled with scars. 

"Yes, master…" You jumped when her knees hit the floor. Her hand still holding your face dragged you forward against your will, and you could only muster up a whimper and she roughly kissed you. You felt she wanted to eat you whole, unable to push her away as she used her strength against you. She chuckled at your fretful squirming, calmly pressing her lips against your mouth and stealing your breath away. 

Weren't the knights that had dragged you here still in the room? You couldn't do such vulgar things before them! You struggled, but Ambessa merely pushed you down, pressing your back against the bloody floor as she coaxed out a pleading whine from your throat.

"I'm here." You heaved as she pulled back, staring down at your weak form as if you were a delicious snack. 

"Y-you lead the revolt? Why?" Your questions were feebly spoken, still worried she'd kill you. The rebel leader smirked, rising from the floor to grab her sword. Your eyes widened as you realized it was nestled deep into the back of your father, releasing a horrid squelsh as she jerked it out of his body.

"For you of course. Well, maybe to fight off the tyranny and oppression too." You squeaked when Ambessa suddenly stabbed her sword down before you, laughing at your terror, "but mainly? For you, princess." 

You quivered as she lifted her sword to trace its top against the bodice of your dress, moving to lift your expensive necklace off your plush skin. "You don't know how long I spent in that frozen wasteland dreaming of having you in my grasp again. I nearly went insane–"

"Nearly? I'd argue you did." You didn't dare turn away from Ambessa, only using your eyes to glance at one of the rebels coming towards you two. The man looked as wretched as Ambessa as he smirked down at you, whistling low.

"Is that her? Now I finally understand that obsession of yours. She's pretty even when she's covered in blood." Ambessa only glared at him, and he quickly raised his hands up in surrender.

"I know I know–she's yours to rip apart." Rip? You trembled, not wanting to know what that meant. Clearly Ambessa hated you enough to take over the entire kingdom just to have her revenge.

[afewproblems]

Difficult Days Part Ten

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six Part Seven, Part Eight Part Nine or Read on AO3

“You're ridiculous,” Gus sighs, as they make their way into the precinct, waving at the desk sergeant who shoots them both a wide grin as they pass, “you can barely even tell anymore--”

“Oh yeah the yellow is just a choice now, I put this on this morning, couldn't you tell?” Shawn grumbles, pressing into the soft skin under his eyes, wincing even at the light pressure.

It’s been two weeks since the incident with Mr. Coveralls and the hospital visit to treat his broken nose and concussion. The worst of the bruising and brain fog have finally started to disappear, leaving behind angry yellow and sickly green shadows under his eyes, as well as a lingering ache in his head that shows up whenever he moves too quickly.

But at least Shawn is finally allowed back in the station after the mandatory two week rest that the doctor and chief had insisted upon -a ban unfairly reinforced by Jules, and even Buzz.

Lassie has been running the gamut from being irritated by his lack of rest, firmly insisting on his return home, to shooting Shawn unreadable looks, according to Gus, behind his back --which is extremely frustrating given how Shawn had thought they had left things back at the hospital. 

There had been a smoothie for shits sake! 

But no, of course Lassie had to go and turn around like everything was normal, like he hadn’t swooped in like a knight in shiny armour. Shining armour? Something other than his normal drab off-the-rack ensembles; but the point was that Lassie was acting just as he had before, sans manhandling after the concussion. 

It was certainly confusing, and more than a little frustrating. 

Shawn is more than happy to start working cases again, if only to distract from the, apparently, one-sided weirdness between himself and Lassiter. 

At least he can go back to distracting himself and half the station with their usual antics, and hopefully snag a new case while they’re here.

“Shawn?”

Shawn stops, it's been over ten years since he last heard the voice calling his name and it's enough to make him freeze in his tracks. Gus stumbles into his back, nearly causing both of them to fall.

“Tell me I'm having an auditory hallucination right now,” he whispers to Gus who frowns at Shawn until the voice calls out again.True he was still technically on concussion protocols but given that Shawn hadn’t had any hallucinations even immediately after hitting his head at the station two weeks ago, this was a bad sign. 

“Shawn Spencer, as I live and breathe!” 

Oh, it’s actually worse.

Anthony Llewellyn walks across the lobby of the station, making a beeline for Shawn and Gus. His curly brown hair has receded slightly, but age has done nothing to temper his handsome face. If anything, the laugh lines around his mouth and the creases beside his large hazel eyes have made him even more attractive since he stomped on Shawn's heart all those years ago.

“What happened to your face?” Anthony asks, a slight pitch of alarm in his voice as his eyes trace over Shawn’s face.

Shawn shoots a withering glare at Gus, raising his eyebrows in a silent I-told-you-so, earning him a scoff from his best friend. 

“Oh this, just an occupational hazard,” Shawn barks out in a strangled laugh as he waves a dismissive hand away from his bruised face, “but hey, you're back huh? I would have figured you'd stick with the east coast after Princeton, nothing like living in New York”.

“New Jersey,” Anthony corrects with the same crooked smile that Shawn loved all those years ago.

He feels his ears begin to heat without his permission, “I've heard it both ways,” Shawn says with a confidence he doesn’t feel. He clears his throat loudly as Gus steps closer, standing nearly between him and Anthony with a scowl etched on his face.

“Why are you at the station man?” Gus asks coolly, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“I could ask you guys the same thing, but imagine my surprise when I saw your name in the paper,” Anthony says with a grin, “I would have thought after what happened that summer you would steer clear of cop shops, hey Shawnie?”

Shawn winces at the nickname and leans closer to Gus, “Yeah, I uh, it’s good, I’m consulting--”

Anthony hums, dropping his gaze up and down as though scanning Shawn, the warm smile he’s wearing doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “no kidding”.

“Actually,” Gus bites out, glaring openly at Anthony who all but ignores him, “we’ve assisted on over twenty cases already this year”.

“Then I bet you could give me a hand with something hmm?” Anthony moves closer, reaching out to clap Shawn’s shoulder once before gripping it loosely, his thumb traces a soft pattern over the sleeve of his lime green polo, “how about it, for old times sake?” 

Shawn hates the way his stomach flips at the touch.

“What's the case?” Gus asks before Shawn can open his mouth, Anthony glances at him with an annoyed grimace before breathing out a long sigh.

“Well, my new wife and I went to this resort in San Diego, Beach Village something-or-other, and we're pretty sure that one of the attendants stole my watch and wedding ring,” he says with a frown, he turns back to Shawn with a soft smile and gently slides his hand down Shawn’s arm to grip his elbow, his hands are cold and clammy against his bare skin.

New wife. 

Shawn swallows harshly as he takes his arm back from the other man’s hand. He hates the way his chest feels tight at the words, the way the slimy slide of Anthony’s eyes over his face still manages to make him feel simultaneously like he’s flying and crashing, even now that the man is so, so clearly trying to use him. 

And he’s not even being subtle about it. 

“You and your wife didn't go to hotel security?” Shawn says smoothly as he catalogs the other man's appearance now. He takes in the slightly swollen fingers on both hands, wrists and the slight swell of the other man's face. Shawn had seen that same swelling before, when his grandad took him and Gus when they were kids to the mountains for some ‘proper’ camping as he called it. 

Anthony looks away as he nods.

“Oh I did, but we were leaving the same day and I--we, my wife and I, just wanted to get out of there so we could file a police report. My insurance company said that would be the first thing to do”.

Shawn grimaces at the obvious lie, “I can't let you file a false report Anthony,” he says quietly, keeping his tone neutral as he watches the other man blink in surprise.

Anthony is silent for a moment, looking at Gus first with a laugh in his eyes that disappears when neither Gus nor Shawn join him, “what are you talking about?”

Shawn sighs, before taking a step closer, “just, why don't we talk outside, you haven’t made the report yet so--”

“Talk outside,” Anthony repeats incredulously, “what-just what are you implying?” He’s angry now, his spine straight and all traces of good humour have vanished.

“Anthony, come on,” Shawn says lowly, looking around, ”I put up with you talking to me like I'm stupid when we were eighteen, but I'm not about to let you do this”. None of the officers milling about have spared them a glance so far, but judging by the rapid flush rising up Anthony's neck he won't be staying quiet for long. Lassiter and Juliet hover in the background from their nearby desks, watching the exchange and Shawn hopes they leave it be.

“Is that what this is about?” Anthony says, and yup, there's the volume he was worried about, “Jesus Christ Shawn, are you seriously doing this because I dumped you? It was like twenty years ago, get over it!”

Shawns balks at the words, turning to Gus, “When did we turn forty, did I miss the cake?” 

He swallows harshly, still grinning despite the way his ears have begun to heat, “Ten years, twenty years, same diff, but that’s not what we’re talking about Anthony, you’re trying to file a false police report”.

“Okay,” Lassiter interrupts, as he swiftly walks up to stand between the three men, “this is a police station, I'm going to need you to lower your voice”.

Shawn feels eyes on them from the rest of the station. Vick is still in her office, thank God, but Buzz has joined their little watch party now and Juliet has also moved closer, standing beside Gus with her hands at her hips, classic power pose.

God Shawn has the worst fucking luck lately, because of course Lassiter and Juliet, are the ones that get to witness his ex-boyfriend publicly tear a strip off him.

Anthony's face twists as he nods sharply, glaring at Shawn over the Detectives shoulder. Shawn breathes a sigh out through his nose, gritting his teeth as Anthony opens his mouth to defend himself or discredit Shawn --same difference at this point. 

“If this man is bothering you,” Lassiter continues without missing a beat, “rest assured we will remove him from the premises”.

“Oh sure,” Shawn says snidely, rolling his eyes, as Gus stiffens beside him, "kick out the person not actively committing a crime, great work Lassie--”

“I wasn't talking about you, Shawn,” Lassiter cuts him off, glaring at Anthony.

Oh.

Shawn looks at Gus who is staring at the Detective as if trying to download his thoughts because, who the hell is this and what have they done with Lassie?

“Alright sir, it’s time to go,” Juliet says primly as she takes a step fully between Shawn and Anthony, standing nearly shoulder to shoulder with Lassiter. 

Anthony sucks his teeth, his eyes darting between the two detectives as though sizing them up, “he doesn't have any proof, you're not taking his bullshit seriously are you?”

Lassiter says nothing, his narrowed blue eyes flick between Anthony and Shawn.

“Shawn probably had a vision, right?” Buzz says from his desk in the corner, “he's very good--”

“Oh my god, Is that what he told you?” Anthony laughs, and it's not a nice laugh, “good to see nothing's changed, everything’s still a joke to you, huh Shawn?”.

Shawn stiffens and takes a deep breath, A few more officers are now looking at them, Buzz watches worriedly from his desk and stands up from his chair.

“Okay,” Shawn says, shaking his head, “sure, you said you were filing a report for the theft of your watch and wedding ring, that they went missing at the resort you and wifey stayed at, right?”

Juliet and Lassiter both turn back to Shawn now, Lassiter watching Shawn with the same blank expression he’s come to hate recently while Juliet tilts her head curiously, her eyes flit between Gus and Shawn. 

Anthony raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest now in a silent challenge. Well, game on Llewelyn. 

“Dragging some poor resort attendant through the mud for this? Thinking no one will question it, right?”

“Shawn,” Gus says warningly, reaching out for Shawn’s elbow but he pulls away from his grasp.

Shawn continues, ignoring the way Gus drops his face into his hands, “that resort is almost four hours away, definitely at a higher altitude and way warmer than Santa Barbara, just based on how swollen your hands are”.

“Shawn,” Gus hisses at the same time Lassiter says, “elevation,” in a tone Shawn has never heard before, but he keeps going, ignoring them both.

“With the abrasions on your ring finger knuckle there, and the marks on your wrist where the watch would have been, you clearly took them off after your drive”. 

Anthony freezes, his mouth opens and closes once before his face hardens into a vicious glare.

Shawn smirks, gotcha.

“Are you--you’re not serious right now,” Anthony sputters, taking an aborted step towards Shawn but Juliet is faster, halting his movement with a firm hand on his chest, “that isn't--this is unbelievable, you’re fucking pathetic”.

“And you're just after the insurance payout,” Shawn hits back sharply, he feels Gus’ hands on his shoulder, holding him back as Juliet stands her ground, waiting until the other man finally takes another step away, raising his hands in surrender. 

“God,” Anthony says, dropping one hand heavily at his side while the other runs through his curly brown hair, “I don’t know how I put up with you for as long as I did in highschool Shawn, leaving for Princeton was the best decision I ever made--”

“So you're Princeton,” Lassiter interrupts as he turns towards Anthony fully, leaving his back to Shawn and Gus.

Gus lets go of Shawn's shoulders just to bring them back to slap him on the arms, an expression of dawning horror blooms on his face.

“What?” Anthony growls at Lassiter, leveling him with an unimpressed glare.

“You're the other idiot that made a mess that we’re all still trying to clean up,” Lassiter says and Gus's jaw drops briefly before his head tilts contemplatively, eyes narrowing at Lassiter. 

What the fuck is happening?? 

Shawn tries to step forward again, but Gus renews his grip on his shoulders, shaking his head in a silent, ‘I-don't-know-what-the-hell-is-happening-either-but-you-need-to-be-cool’.

“So you,” Lassiter says, taking a menacing step closer, “should take his advice and leave now before we book you for filing a false report”.

Anthony breathes out a scoff, “what, you believe this asshole?”

“And disturbing the peace,” Juliet says brightly, counting on her fingers, “and threatening an officer--”

Anthony looks between Juliet and Lassiter for a moment, seemingly weighing the pros and cons of continuing his tirade as the number of cops watching from the sidelines grows. He rolls his eyes and shakes out his shoulders before finally, finally, taking a step backwards and turning back towards the entrance, “Okay, okay, I'm leaving, have a nice life Shawnie”.

“I’ll walk you out,” Lassiter growls, gesturing towards the lobby. He doesn't move until Anthony turns on his heel and finally leaves the bullpen. 

It’s quiet for all of five seconds, Shawn can feel the eyes of the room on them as he takes a deep breath through his nose before slowly exhaling through his mouth. The bubble of silence pops shortly as Juliet clears her throat, leveling an impressive Lassiter-like glare around the station. 

“I’m going to make sure that’s all Carlton does,” Juliet says quietly as she reaches for Shawn’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before she follows the pair out of the station. He nods, watching her go as a bone weary fatigue suddenly hits him square in the chest. It’s most likely a lingering concussion symptom from all the yelling and sudden stress which makes the whole situation all the worse, his first day back at the station is now a write off. 

Gus steps closer, his brow pinched in concern, “okay I know that sucked, but you need to get out of here”.

“Yeah,” he says, wiping a tired hand over his face, “I just--I need a minute--”

“Nope,” Gus says sharply, “now, before Lassiter and Jules get back”.

“Gus,” Shawn breathes out tiredly, feeling as though the last string holding him up is about to snap altogether, “don't be a wet sock inside my favorite shoe--”

“Shawn,” Gus interrupts, "you just deduced a crime and walked the head Detective through your entire process, without a single vision”.

Shawn feels his breath catch in his throat as he walks back through the last five minutes because Gus is right.

He steps back from the memory of Anthony standing over him, sneering, and shifts his gaze to Lassiter who looks at Shawn with narrowed eyes that pierce through his underbelly. The terminator scan is back and on full force now.

“Shit,” Shawn whispers, horrified, “shit, shit, shit, that's worse”.

Lassiter knows, knows that Shawn has been lying for months. Not just to him but the whole department, to the people he had started to call friends.

“Okay,” Gus steps back, gesturing to the back entrance usually reserved for officers, “go, I’ll see if I can do some damage control, I'll call you later”.

Shawn nods only vaguely aware that Gus has stepped away from the sudden lack of warmth beside him. He starts making his way to the side exit only for Gus to plow into his back like a linebacker before spinning Shawn around to hug him tight.

“Anthony was a jackass then and it looks like that hasn't changed,” Gus says into his shoulder, “so for what it's worth you dodged a bullet man”.

Shawn slowly wraps his arms around his best friend, letting the tension from the confrontation with Anthony fall away.

“Thanks,” Shawn says after a beat before loosening his grip to pat Gus on the back as he steps away, “now, I have an escape to make and several, several, orders of not-sad snacks to grab”.

 “Don't you throw a pity party without me Shawn--”

“Wouldn't dream of it!” He calls over his shoulder with a grin as he slips out the side door.

***

Shawn is well into his pity party, about two orders of queso dos fritos deep --the perfect not-sad snack, midway through his VHS copy of Gladiator, and with a list of places in Arizona he had not managed to see before coming back to Santa Barbara --his options other than skipping town again all but nothing, when he hears a knock at the door.

Four raps in quick successive pairs.

Shawn freezes.

It could be Gus trying out a new knocking pattern, and here with better news than his spiraling thoughts can conjure, but Gus hasn't called.

Shawn holds his breath, slowly reaching for the remote to pause the movie, relieved that he hadn't opened the blinds on the window facing the street when he got home from the station earlier. 

Maybe if he stayed quiet--

“I can hear your movie Spencer”.

God Dammit.

Shawn angrily stops the tape before dropping the remote onto the couch which bounces once and then falls to the floor with a noisy plastic clatter. 

“I know you’re in there,” Lassiter’s voice travels through the door clear as a bell. 

He sighs, dropping his head back onto the couch before he lifts the grease stained cardboard holding the few remaining fries from his chest and stands up, tossing the garbage onto the coffee table that is actually a garish slab of green plexiglass held up by several stacked milk crates he had spray painted red and superglued together.

Gus said it was hideous the last time he had visited but Shawn loves his DIY project.

Eat your heart out Martha Stewart.

He makes his way over to the door, opening it just enough to see the Detective with his hands in his suit jacket pockets, looking around with a suspicious glare.

“You live in a laundromat?” He says in lieu of a greeting.

“What are you doing here Lassiter?” Shawn asks tiredly as he opens the door a little wider, leaning his shoulder against the frame, blocking any additional line of sight into his place. 

“The spirits didn't tell you?” The Detective says as he removes his hands from the pockets of his coat to cross his arms over his chest.

Shawn fights the urge to slam the door in his stupid face.

Lassiter shakes his head after a beat of stony silence as Shawn says nothing, and sighs.

“Can I come in?”

Shawn shrugs, looking away but doesn't move from the door, blocking the entrance.

“Depends,” he says after another beat.

“Look, if you're worried about…” Carlton tries, the words come out haltingly, “I'm not going to…”

God Shawn does not want to have this conversation.

Lassiter breathes out, lifting his hands to run through his hair, shifting the normally neat salt and pepper locks out of place and Shawn is over it.

“Look, I really don't want to do this right now Detective,” Shawn sighs as he shifts his hands on the door, moving back slightly to end the stilted conversation and shut Lassiter out when a hand darts out to push the door open.

“Woah, hey--” Shawn tries but the Detective cuts him off by suddenly gripping his shoulders and walking him back into the apartment.

“What the f--what are you doing?!” He hisses, wrenching himself out of Carlton’s hands.

“Sorry,” Lassiter says, “I don't, I’m not,” he breathes out sharply through his nose and lifts one hand to pinch into his eyes briefly.

“You know, if I illegally enter someone's home, they aren't usually there to see me do it,” Shawn snips, crossing his arms tightly over his chest, “allegedly--”

“I'm not good at this,” Lassiter cuts him off, his voice loud in the small entryway. He drops his hands to his side before taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders, “I've thought long and hard about exactly what I would say to you if I managed to catch you,” he gestures sharply at Shawn with an open palm, “to figure out exactly how you do what you do”.

Fuck.

Fuck. 

It's exactly what he and Gus had been worried about back at the station. He had exposed himself and Lassiter was finally pouncing on it. 

“You astound me Spencer”.

Shawn blinks, his head tilts slightly as he peers at Lassiter, his eyes tracing over his face for any hint of a lie.

It's the same drunk words from nearly a month ago, and this time Carlton is sober.

“I knew it wasn't that psychic crock, I've always known that,” Carlton continues, oblivious to Shawn's shock. He reaches back to close Shawns front door before stepping further into the room.

“But, over the last few months I've watched you make the most outlandish, ridiculous, amazing deductions seemingly out of thin air”.

Lassiter's eyes flick between Shawn's own, “but it's not out of thin air, is it?” 

He takes another step closer, “you observe, you see things others miss, right? Like the elevation thing today”.

Shawn swallows heavily and tries for a laugh that rings out hollowly. 

“Look Lassie, Carlytown, Lassidopholous,” his voice sounds unnaturally high pitched, nervous, even to his own ears as he takes a step back from the Detective, “you’re barking up the wrong tree--”

“And you deflect with stupid jokes, nicknames, and obnoxious theatrics with Guster so people don't pick up on it,” Lassiter says firmly, taking another step into Shawns space.

“Pick up on what?” Shawn says quietly.

Lassiter pauses, his throat bobs as he swallows before taking a deep, determined breath and squaring his shoulders, “how brilliant you are”.

Shawn snorts, waiting for the punchline, “okay, who are you and what have you done with Lassie?” 

Lassiter doesn’t move and his expression remains unchanged, “I'm being serious, Shawn”.

Shawn barks out a crackling laugh through the sudden tightness in his throat after a beat, “but,” Shawn runs a shaking hand through his hair. It doesn’t make any sense, where the hell is this coming from he thinks, twisting his fingers to pull harshly at the roots, “you never said anything”.

Carlton steps closer, resuming his pursuit, “I'm saying it now”.

“Are you sure?” Shawn asks in a small voice before he clears his throat roughly, “I mean, are you sure this isn't a prank?”

Shawn grins but it doesn't quite reach his eyes, “is Ashton Kutcher about to jump out of my cabinet because I haven't really prepared to have guests over--”

Shawn stops short as Lassiter reaches out with one hand to cup his face while the other hand rises up to gently remove his fist from the iron grip he has on his own hair. Lassiter slowly untangles his fingers before bringing their hands down to hang between them. 

“Definitely not a prank,” the Detective says softly as he squeezes Shawn's hand, and holy hannah when did Lassie become such a Casanova? 

Carlton doesn't let go.

“This okay?” he asks, his blue eyes flit between Shawn's own.

Shawn feels his face and ears heat in an uncharacteristic moment of flustered surprise as he looks between his hand and Lassie's face. His mouth opens and closes but words, a previously unending resource for him, have vanished.

Carlton grins down at him, stepping closer, “finally stumped you eh Spencer? I thought I'd have to resort to drastic measures to shut you up,” he says, rubbing his thumb gently over Shawn's cheekbone.

Shawn huffs out a strangled laugh, licking his slightly chapped lips; he watches the way those same bright blue eyes follow the movement of his tongue. 

“Drastic does seem more my style, but maybe you could pull it off”. 

Carlton smiles as he slowly moves his hand to grip Shawn’s chin, tilting his face up just as he had that night at Tom Blairs.

“Shut up, Shawn,” Carlton breathes over his lips, gently sliding the tip of his nose down Shawns, still cognizant of the healing cartilage, before leaning down to finally kiss him.

Shawn makes a noise, a muffled hum of surprise as Carlton walks them backwards until they connect with the wall behind them. His hand slides up from Shawn's jaw to cup the back of his head as he presses further into him, while the other hand drops Shawn's to slide up his back, pulling him into Carlton even more.

Insistent lips coax his mouth open for Carlton to slide his tongue along Shawn's--who gave him the right, or the ability, to kiss like this??

Stuffy, uptight, by-the-book, Head Detective, Carlton Lassiter kissed like a man starved and Shawn could feel his brain vacillating between over analyzing this turn of events and turning to goo.

Maybe that Snapple intern was on to something because Shawn could easily see himself kissing Lassie like this for hours, weeks, maybe he'd have to give them a call about their stats, let them know the record would be broken by Lassie's lips and tongue.

Shawn's hands slide up Carltons chest as a firm knee slots between his legs, moaning as he grips at the lapels of the Detective's horrible suit jacket--if Shawn has a say moving forward, he's definitely going to be insisting on a wardrobe upgrade---

Carlton breathes out sharply through his nose as he pulls away, just far enough to stop the kiss but his Iips still brush Shawn's as he speaks, "I can hear you thinking a mile a minute, I must not be doing a very good job?”

Shawn huffs out a strangled laugh as he slides one of the hands on Carlton’s chest up to rest on the back of his neck, his fingers brushing the short hairs that have started to grow out.

“Me? Thinking? You must have confused me with someone else”.

“Shawn Spencer,” Carlton says softly as he kisses the apple of Shawn’s cheek,  “fake psychic,” he kisses the soft skin beside Shawn’s right eye, “much smarter than he lets on” he kisses Shawn’s forehead,” loyal to a fault,” Carlton hums, finally pulling back to look him in the eye’s directly.

“Careful Lassie,” Shawn says a little breathlessly, “this is starting to sound like a compliment”.

Carlton hesitates for a beat, his thumb tracing up and down Shawn’s pulse point, “based on what I know of Henry, and that jackass who came into the department,” he says slowly, softly, “compliments probably came pretty sparingly for you”. 

Shawn feels himself still in Carlton’s embrace, his mouth twitches at the corners as he tries for a grin that feels brittle, fake.

“Now I know you’re definitely confused, I love me some praise, Gus insists I have to be careful or my head'll swell, even more than it already has, and float away on the Santa Anas”.

He unwinds his hands from around the Detective and tries to step around him but Carlton’s grip around him is firm, “besides, that guy, that was, just an old friend from school--” 

“Dammit,” Carlton says under his breath before shaking his head and seemingly steeling himself, “I need to…tell you something,” Carlton continues slowly, sliding his thumb in soothing half circles on Shawn's back, “I read the transcript from your call that night.”

Shawn can't stop the full body twitch at the words and does push against Carlton this time, ducking away from the warm hands holding him against the wall, “you-- come again?”

“Shawn--”

“You...you called him Princeton,” Shawn says weakly as the memory from earlier flashes before him. It was an odd thing for the Detective to say even then, but he’d been so distracted by the whole confrontation that its significance had slipped his notice. Jesus, how did that happen?

“I can explain,” Lassiter tries before Shawn waves a hand out in front of him, crossing his arms tightly over his chest.

“Explain it then,” he snaps. 

Lassiter swallows, his mouth twitches miserably before he finally says, “outgoing calls are monitored Shawn, you called from Vicks desk, we have the transcript”.

The words hit him square in the chest and it takes everything in him not to tell the Detective to get the hell out of his apartment. His stomach clenches unhappily as he wipes his hand over his mouth, he hears his own small voice in his own head, sharp as though it was only yesterday.

“You were right Gus, he uh, he's going to Princeton, can't have someone like me dragging him down, wait, maybe I'm the Brodie in this scenario”. 

“How long have you known?”

Chapter Eleven Up!

Tag List: @adaed5 @drakkywolf @newgrangespirals @riverofrainbows @steddierthings @newgrangespirals @eriquin @childofposiden71 @theoxymoronicpoet @cinderellarhea @ladystardustinblackjeans

[bts-hyperfixation]

Outside of the Fox

Chapter 40

4150 words

Y/N longs for a new life when the one she’d been living comes to an abrupt stop. Without much thought to those she is leaving behind, the little fox packs a backpack and disappears. She stumbles across the shelter and makes an interim home for herself while she works out exactly what she wants from her second chance.

Last

"I hope my new sheets are still intact," Jin comments.

The older man peers at Taehyung over his steaming coffee mug as the panda enters the guest house. His long curs still dripped from the shower

"I'll pay for the replacements," Taehyung smirks.

He joins Jin at the kitchen table and rests his head in his hands, staring at the doctor. He admires the way his slightly crooked fingers curl around the porcelain. He finds himself mesmerized by the pucker of his lips as the mug nears his almost-perfect face. He watches closely as the older man swallows, licking his lips almost subconsciously.

"I know you are technically still a predator, but must you watch me so intensely," Jin quips barely pulling the cup from his lips. 

"It's not my fault. You're the one who goes around looking like you should be my next meal." Tae shrugs.

"Don't you have a fiance you could prey on instead,"

"I do... and I did. She was delicious but now she is busy and you're right here Hyung."

The older man sighs and finishes his coffee in three smooth swigs. He doesn't deign to respond to Taehyung again, busying himself with washing and drying the mug. Only when he is finished completely, does he look at the panda once more. 

"Maybe we should get to know one another better before you begin to proposition me Taehyung-ah, I'm not going to bend to your will quite as easily as some others in this house." 

Taehyung lifts an eyebrow, the challenge intriguing him. 

"I'm positive you will come around to my way. We just don't spend enough time together, one date with me and I bet I'll have you lined up like everyone else."

"I'll take that bet," Jin extends his hand for Taehyung to take. "Obviously if you win you get me, but what do I get..."

"Anything you want, money is no object..." Taehyung clasps Jin's hand in his.

He uses the leverage to pull Jin towards him leaving them a hairwidths apart.

"I don't need money, but if you really have everyone wrapped around your finger then you'll convince them to let me choose the sleeping arrangements for a week."

"You're on." 

Instead of shaking Jin's hand, Taehyung leans forward and kisses the older man's nose, causing Jin to flush pink.

"This is going to be so easy," Taehyung grins, "Tomorrow night, can't wait."

He releases Jin's hand and walks into the garden, for no reason other than to have a grand exit. Jin remains in the kitchen, more than a little dumbstruck as to how he ended up in this situation. 

_______________________________

You can't help but feel frustrated with yourself. Even after talking it through, after being reassured, you won't be hidden away again, after being comforted. The goddamn twisted feeling remains in your stomach, stubborn and constant. The only difference between now and this morning is you are determined not to let it beat you. 

You wring the water from your hair a little more harshly than necessary and then find your way back to Namjoon's office. This time he actually seems to be working rather than just caressing his new furniture. You try your best not to ruin his flow, kissing his cheek to alert him of your presence before picking a book from his shelf and curling up in the armchair again. Somewhere you are sure is going to become one of your favourite places in the new build. 

Namjoon reaches over and brushes his hand through your damp tresses and then returns both hands to his keyboard. The two of you sit in companionable silence until the room gets dark around you. 

"Jimin and Hoseok should be home soon," Namjon comments. "Wes should head back into the guest house and see if Yoongi wants any help with dinner."

"You and I both know the best way for you to help with cooking is to stay here."

He grumbles under his breath as he shuts down his computer before swivelling his chair to glare at you. You don't even get a chance to put the book down before he is on top of you. His fingers dig into your sides as he tickles you mercilessly, trapped between the back of the chair and his knee. You wriggle futilely as his onslaught continues, your only defense your screams.

"Take it back," He says.

"I won't take back the truth," You attempt to retort, although it comes out in a series of wheezes and coughs.

"Take it back!" He says again.

Still, you refuse. Instead, you attempt to get your arms between you, intending a counter-attack but he only succeeds in pinning you better. Fortunately for you, a tornado blows into the room, taking Namjoon with it in a blur of limbs and dark hair. 

Jungkook has an unprepared Namjoon pinned to the floor within seconds. He retaliates for you, wrestling with Namjoon while you recover from the tickle assault. When you finally have your breath back you pull the rabbit back to give Namjoon a reprieve.  In turn, he twists to attack you, squeezing you tight in his arms. 

"Y/N! Are you okay? I've been so worried you weren't here when we woke up," 

You can feel his pout as he buries his nose against your neck. You stroke his hair, ruffling it around his ears. 

"I'm sorry bunny, I'm okay,"

Namjoon scoops the pair of you into his arms and leans back against his desk, a head on each shoulder. Jungkook traces patterns on your bicep with his forefinger and you both allow yourself to settle into your leader's embrace. 

"Did you come looking for us for a reason Kook?" Namjoon asks.

"I heard Y/N screaming all the way from the guest house... I had to check she was okay" He responds.

Namjoon looks sheepish and apologises for scaring him, earning himself an even clingier Jungkook.

"Oh and Yoongi said dinner is nearly ready and I think I heard Jimin pulling into the driveway on my way up here."

"Then we should probably go down to join them," You say.

None of you make any effort to move though. 

______________________________

Hoseok walks in on the image of perfect domestic bliss. Yoongi and Jin seem to have fallen into the kind of rhythm you usually find in a professional kitchen. Jimin and Taehyung cuddled up on the sofa waiting to be called through. He can't help thinking to himself he could get used to this. 

He slips in behind Yoongi, caging the man against the kitchen counters. The jackal turns in his arms and kisses him deeply. 

"Hi," Yoongi breathes as they pull away.

"Hello," Hobi returns with a smile.

"Yes, yes. Hello Hello," Jin grumbles. "We were kind of in a rhythm here,"

"My apologies Jinny, are you feeling left out?" Hoseok flutters his eyelashes.

Without warning Hobi switches around and crowds Jin instead, he lifts slightly on to his tiptoes until his nose is level with Jin's. Before the doctor can even think to stop him, Hoseok closes the gap and nibbles at his bottom lip, Jin does the rest of the work, slipping his tongue between Hoseok's teeth. He takes charge of the kiss, flipping them until Hobi is the one pushed up against the counter. Jin's hands hold Hoseok's hips in place, leading him in grinding against one another. 

"Alright, give it a break, the chicken is starting to burn" Yoongi says pulling on Jin's shoulder. 

The two separate out of breath, Hobi looking much worse for wear than Jin.

"Now that's the kinda show I'd buy tickets for," Taehyung quips, peering into the kitchen. 

Jimin's head rests on his shoulder, hugging Taehyung from behind,

"Will there be a repeat showing?" the red head enquires. 

"Perhaps after dinner, if I Yoongi and I can actually get back to cooking now " Jin shrugs, returning to the stove.

Hobi's ears turn red and if he had a tail it would've definitely been wagging at the thought. He joins Taehyung and Jimin on the other side of the breakfast bar and watches on as the eldest two continue. Soon Namjoon, Jungkook and Y/N walk through the door, and dinner is ready to be eaten. 

________________

A worrying amount of dinner conversation seems to be filled with details of your upcoming nuptials. No detail is left undiscussed, the dress, the flowers, the venue; they even voted on who will fall into each wedding party (bridesmen: Jin, Jungkook, Hoseok/groomsmen: Jimin, Yoongi, Namjoon).  You try to join in enthusiastically but the entire situation leaves you feeling exhausted and more than ready to go straight to sleep after this despite your earlier nap.

Thankfully as long as you make a suggestion every time the topic changes you seem to be involved enough that no one notices your lack of enthusiasm for details. Going forward you vowed to yourself to be better involved. The prospect of planning your own wedding this time was intriguing, seeing as last time it was all planned around you, it just seemed far too quick. You had hoped just a little that it might be a long engagement but it would seem that that may not be the case. 

A thought then occurs to you that might be able to get you out of this conversation just a little longer, at least long enough to get your head around the idea. 

"Taehyung, have you told your parents yet?"

Everyone's gaze falls on Taehyung.

"No... It's barely been a couple hours yet, let me enjoy the feeling of being engaged to someone I love before I involve the people who are trying to force me to do otherwise." He shrugs. 

From there the conversation shifts, less excitement surrounding the wedding when the forced nature of it is brought up. You settle in and enjoy your dinner far more as Jimin regales you with tales from his day, telling you how all the other residents are getting on. Then Hoseok shares about some of the overly enthusiastic singers that made their way through the karaoke hall doors, the afternoon shift always brought in the most intriguing characters. 

Dinner ends pleasantly and you and Jungkook clean up while everyone else heads into the main room to watch tv. The bunny races you to clean the fastest, but you are a little less enthusiastic, allowing him to clean most of the room as you watch his arms ripple and tense.

"It's no fun racing if you don't play too..." He pouts when he catches you staring. 

"Sorry... I was distracted."

"Clearly," He smirks.

He puts down the teatowel he was holding and takes your hands in his. He signals for you to be quiet and the two of you tiptoe out of the kitchen and behind the sofa and into the bedroom. 

"Maybe I can help you focus,"

He walks you backwards until your knees hit the bed 

"Focusing on you wasn't something I really had an issue with..."

"Then let's focus on you."

Something tells you that you'll never be prepared for when confident Jungkook makes an appearance and something tells you that you haven't seen the full extent of it. One hand wraps around the back of your neck and finds a home in the hair at the nape of your neck. He tilts your face up towards him and uses his free hand to support your chin, leaving you little room to escape. His thumb traces your bottom lip, pulling it way from the top lip. 

"Tell me what you want," He says.

"Whatever you want," you murmur.

Your tongue flicks out to catch his thumb but he pulls his hand away before you can capture it. 

"I said we are focusing on you, why are you so bad at this?"

His hand slaps down on your hip making you jump.

"Is that okay?" he whispers. 

You nod with the little slack that he gives you and his hand taps on your hip twice more.

"Then try again, what do you want?" 

"I want you," 

"That's a little better,"

He rewards you with a kiss.

"Now be more specific," He nibbles briefly on your lip 

"I want you to make love to me," 

You wrap your arms around his waist and hold him against you.

"Now that I will absolutely do for you." 

He taps your thigh so you jump into his arms and turns, before falling back onto the bed. He grinds his hips against yours. You can feel him easily through his sweats, straining to be released. You reach to free him from his stifling waistband but he catches you before you get the chance.

"Don't worry about me just yet,"

"But what if that's what I want?"

"I've decided I don't want your opinion anymore. I think I'm going to have to teach you how to focus on yourself before I let you make your own decisions, you aren't experienced enough," 

"And you are? Mr. boys only..." You raise an eyebrow and lower your hips against him. 

"I've been talking to Hobi..." His ears go a little red around the tips. "I think I've got a much better idea now, better than you anyway." 

"Guess you should show me then, you must know better than me."

His hands trail up your thighs, nails dragging along your skin. 

"Lie on the bed for me." 

You climb out of his lap and lay back on the bed. He leans in and licks a long strip against the scent gland on your neck sending shivers throughout your whole body. He bands your legs up to lock himself between them, using them to support his waist as he leaves purpling bruises along your decolletage. He seems to lose himself in his art, creating blooming patterns along your previously unmarred skin. 

"Is this a private party?" A deep voice sounds from the doorway.

Jungkook doesn't even glance up, but you can feel the way his tension changes, a soft whine vibrating against your skin. You meet Namjoon's gaze, a fond smile on his lips and fire in his eyes. When no response comes from Jungkook he makes his way into the room fully, perching on the edge of the bed. Jungkook moves down towards your cleavage but he is a lot gentler now, soothing with his tongue as he goes. 

Namjoon reaches up and places a hand in Jungkook's hair, from your angle, you can't tell what he does, or even if he does anything, but Jungkook suddenly seems to become more drooling mess than man.

"Let me ask again, is this a private affair? Or can I join you?"

Jungkook finally pulls up, looking at you with large puppy eyes.

"I want what you want Kookie," you say.

You reach out to caress his cheek but he turns and bites at you playfully, his previous confidence suddenly making a reappearance so fast it gives you whiplash. 

"Not my choice when it's you being taken care of, Love," He answers. "I think two heads are better than one... but it's up to you."

You look between him and Namjoon and make your decision; an easy decision to make.

"Stay Joonie." You reach out to him.

He takes your hand and kisses it.

"Always," He smiles. "Now Kookie let's see where you were going with this, I want a show."

Jungkook nods eagerly. Then, instead of returning to your cleavage, he helps you wriggle out of your clothes until you are laid bare before both of them. There is something chilling about being naked when your lovers are looking on fully dressed, it seems a satisfying tingle up your spine and you fight to keep yourself from curling in to hide. 

Jungkook folds your legs back to their earlier position, this time keeping them in place with his shoulders as he settles his face firmly in between. His warm breath hits your damp core, his lips less than a whisper away from where you are suddenly aching to have him. Namjoon doesn't move, he just squeezes your hand, watching Jungkook intently.

Junkook's tongue is much more confident in his approach this time, focusing more on your clit than your pussy as a whole. He flicks and sucks in a feverish rhythm that has your legs begging to straighten. One of his hands finds it's way between your legs, two fingers push harshly into your tight heat. You hold tighter on to Namjoon as your pussy clenches against the sudden intrusion. 

"Relax Y/N-ie" Namjoon shushes you.

He releases your hand and crawls to the top of the bed. He pulls you slightly until your head is lying in his lap, his fingers making a home in your hair, massaging you gently as Jungkook continues his assault between your legs. The sweet caress of Namjoon's hand is completely juxtaposed with the relentless pumping on Jungkook's fingers as he teases mercilessly at your g-spot. Whatever Hoseok had told him had been very efficient, you could feel the high rising in your stomach much faster as your back arched away from the mattress. 

Jungkook's chin is dripping with you as he pulls away, allowing you a moment to recover. He kneels up eyes filled with pride when he notices the way your eyes aren't quite ready to focus.

"That looks delicious, can I taste it bunny?" Namjoon asks. 

You brace yourself for them to shift places and the overstimulation to begin, but it never comes. Instead, the weight shifts as Jungkook leans over you, kissing Namjoon while still covered in your orgasm. You force your eyes to readjust and enjoy. Namjoon carefully shifts your head back to the pillow and then draws Jungkook closer to him, grinding against the younger man as he enjoys your taste. 

"Would you like me to leave you two alone?" You joke, propping yourself up on one hand.

"We'll get to you," Namjoon growls.

He dismisses you and pushes Jungkook down on to the bed so his head lands at your feet. Namjoon's kiss gets deeper and more feverish as the bunny melts beneath him, whining loudly. He licks into and around Jungkook's mouth, gathering every ounce of you from Jungkook's mouth until he is satiated.

"Fuck," He pants as he pulls away looking sheepish. 

He extends a hand for Jungkook to take but he doesn't accept, too busy catching his breath.

"Sorry... that was..." Namjoon tries to form a sentence.

"That was hot as fuck," Jungkook supplies.

"I lost control..."

"You should lose control more," You say, fanning yourself dramatically.

"Imagine drinking that taste from the source..." Jungkook suggests, " See how much control you have then,"

He sits up and runs a finger through your slit, gathering as much slick as he can before holding it out for Joonie to take the digit. However, before Namjoon can wrap his lips around it, Jungkook pulls back and pops it into his own mouth, making Namjoon growl again. He looks almost murderous as he glares at Jungkook. 

"Choose now, do you want to fuck her or fuck me? because if you choose her I'm going to be very rough with you," Namjoon demands.

Jungkook squeals in response, a sound you might've thought meant fear if you weren't almost choking on the smell of his arousal. 

"Quickly, bunny, or you're not getting your dick wet at all and you'll just have to sit and watch."

"Y/N said she wanted to make love not fuck..." He manages to point out. 

"Then one of us can make love to her as the other gets brutally fucked, now pick"

"Joonie, I want to fuck Joonie." Jungkook answers.

"Is that okay with you?" Namjoon turns to ask you, a completely different demeanour to the commanding man Jungkook had been faced with. 

His eyes are soft and focused as he waits for your response. You nod, and the alpha smiles back at you before returning to glaring at Jungkook. 

"Clothes off Jeon, and find the condoms first."

Jungkook scurries off the bed in search of the materials he needs to warm Namjoon up for him. In the meantime, Namjoon's attention switches fully to you. He throws his shirt across the room, inadvertently hitting Jungkook, and then leans down over you. 

"Are you sure you're okay with the switch?" He asks

"More than okay... does this mean I get to watch you take Jungkook?"

"Well, technically yes, but that's if you're able to focus on something other than the feeling of me, and if I'm doing my job correctly that shouldn't be the case." He sounds cocky, and you're sure he has every right to. 

The bed dips as Jungkook rejoins you.

"Why are your pants still on Hyung?" You can hear the pout in Jungkook's voice.

"You're so impatient Kook," Namjoon sighs.

But he pulls away from you anyway, giving himself space to undress properly. He then signals for you to shift properly back to the headboard and pulls a pillow to put under your hips. Finally, he takes a condom from Jungkook and rolls it almost effortlessly along his length. He takes up his position between your legs and you watch Jungkook settle in behind him, you can just about see his head appear over Namjoon's broad shoulders. 

Jungkook lets out a giggle when he must realise something

"I'm already prepped," Namjoon shrugs "Gets him excited," He winks at you, "Are you ready,"

You bite your lip and nod, preparing yourself for something similar to Jungkook's previously punishing performance. Namjoon however is a lot gentler, which somehow stimulates you more. You feel each inch as he sinks deeper inside of you. You know Jungkook is holding back, seeing how much of his lower lip has disappeared into his mouth, which makes you think this isn't the first time the pair of them have been in this situation. It makes you wonder whether you are taking Jimin or Yoongi's usual position.

Namjoon thrusts hard and deep a few times to get himself properly situated, listening to the way your breath hitches to get a better idea of what angle you prefer. Only when he is satisfied that he will be pleasuring you does he give Jungkook the go-ahead to line himself up. Namjoon kisses you as Jungkook fills him, allowing you to feel each pulse of his breath as he tries to relax for the other man

As Jungkook pushes in, you can feel the way Namjoon strains to take most of the thrust and not push into you. 

"You can let him fuck you in to me..." you say.

You don't make eye contact, instead, you draw lines along his biceps and follow the lines. 

"That won't exactly be a love-making pace," Namjoon points out.

"Maybe we could make love on a different day..."

"Okay, but you asked for this," You can hear the grin "Jungkook goes as hard as you really want to," Namjoon permits, 

and by god does Jungkook comply.

You cling to Namjoon's arms as the two of you are bounced wildly by Jungkook's thrusts. His hips move erratically as he sets a punishing pace. Namjoon pants over the top of you as he struggles to keep himself afloat on top of you while also feeling the pressure of the other man up against his prostate. 

The younger man shows no sign of relenting, even as Namjoon tenses inside of you trying desperately and futilely to cling on to his orgasm. He cums dramatically, almost collapsing on top of you.

"Do you need me to stop hyung?" Jungkook hesitates.

"Don't you dare," Namjoon grits through his teeth.

The older man's hand reaches between you, circling your clit. His breath is hot in the crook of your neck as Jungkook's movements continue to force him to fuck deeply inside of you. Another orgasm finds it's place in the base of your stomach, and based on the droplet of sweat trailing done Jungkook's face, he isn't far behind. just as you release, Jungkook releases a strangled moan and pulls backwards, his cum filling the condom. 

Not forgetting when Taehyung scolded him last time, Jungkook scurries off as soon as he is able into the ensuite, returning with water glasses and towels. Namjoon praises him and pulls him back on to the bed once the glasses are safely out of the way. Namjoons situates himself against the headboard with his legs apart, Jungkook crawls into the gap that was left for him and then tugs you into his lap. The three of you sit there for some time until your breath comes back and your souls reenter your bodies.

Sometime later a mildly bemused Jin enters the room and forces you all into the shower. By the time you come back he is bundled up in fresh sheets waiting for the three of you to join him for the night. 

Next

Masterlist

sup fam...... soz. It's been a busy new academic year what can I say.... but here are 4000 words if that helps. Also a proper threesome.... Have fun, let me know how it goes can you let me know if there are any duos or trios that you would like to see interact more? Because I know earlier on in the fic I tried to integrate everybody together, but I’ve still missed interactions. For example, like Hobi and Jin don’t interact too much. Would you like for them too or do you think I should just continue with the plot? Because I am adding that into the plot because obviously, they need to be a viable pack structure and not just a load of couples that happen to live together. But I want to know who everybody else wants to see. I think I have about 6- 8 chapters left. Also more smut coming because I can't believe it took me this long to get my bias in on the smut, seems like a crime....

[atevanfool]

Fuck it Friday

Nominating myself for Fuck-it-Friday because I'm a slut for feedback and I'm really excited to share more of Expanding.

Have some chapter 4.

x-x-x

Buck

Buck sighs as he pours himself a cup of coffee. He’s the first one awake this morning so he’s in charge of getting it going. He’s off work for the day but Tommy is about to head in for a forty-eight hour shift. Just as he’s thinking that, Tommy strides into the kitchen wearing nothing but a pair of fraying black sweats, slung low on his hips. His dark curls are in disarray which he further disrupts as he yawns and rakes a hand through them. Like a bear still coming out of hibernation, he lumbers to Buck’s side and curls his huge body into Buck’s (only slightly) smaller back. “Morning.” Tommy mumbles, mouthing softly at the crook of his neck. Buck hums back happily, leaning slightly into it. Tommy wraps his arms around his waist and pulls him close, allowing the younger man to feel the remnants of last night's sleep pushing against his ass.

He’s not complaining.

“Morning. Coffee is ready.” Buck mutters, offering off the cup he’s been sipping at slowly, waiting for it to not be surface levels of hell hot. Tommy shakes his head without lifting it, burying his nose further into Buck’s neck, breathing him in. “You okay?” Buck asks, placing one hand over Tommy’s, giving it a squeeze. Tommy’s affectionate in the mornings, but this seems… More than usual.

“‘m fine. Miss you.” Finally he lifts his head and hooks his chin over his husband's shoulder.

Snorting Buck says, “I literally just got out of bed.”

Tommy side eyes him with those stormy blue orbs Buck loves. Not only that but he’s… Pouting. “You used to wake me up with -” Buck clamps a hand over Tommy’s mouth so fast the remnants of his coffee cup slosh unceremoniously onto the counter. He doesn’t retract his hand until his husband raises his eyebrows to signal he won’t say what he was going to. “I miss us.” Tommy confesses, planting a soft kiss to Buck’s cheeks. “Somehow it feels like having a teenager around makes getting alone time harder than if Branson was a baby or a toddler.”

Buck shushes him. “Hey, not so loud.” He bends forward so he can see around Tommy’s body, praying Branson didn’t hear that. Thankfully the boy appears to still be in his room. Tapping at Tommy’s hands, Buck turns in his hold once he loosens up and drapes his arms over Tommy’s shoulders. “Not that I’m disagreeing. Trust me, I’m feeling it, too.” He gives a little roll of his hips which makes Tommy jerk and grumble. “And it’s not like we can't, we just… Don’t. Branson is just… Prickly. And he’s clearly got beef with the LGBTQ community. I don’t want to push too far and make him decide that he doesn’t want to stay.”

“Evan, I get that but… I spent too many years hiding who I was. I don’t want to go back to that. And anyway, hiding ourselves isn’t going to be the best thing for him if we’re trying to rewrite seventeen years of learned behavior. I’m pretty sure he thinks that we’re going to…” He can’t even get the words out, his face crumpling into a look of utter disgust at the thought. Buck can’t help it. He kisses Tommy’s lips, drawing his attention back to him. “Right. So. I’m all for doing things the right way, but I don’t want to take it so far that we start ignoring our own needs.”

Sighing, Buck lets his head drop back and he groans dramatically. “You’re right.”

“As I usually am. Now give me some of that.” Tommy smirks and gives Buck’s ass a swat as he dances away from Buck’s swiping arms to grab a coffee cup. Buck just rolls his eyes. This isn’t an argument he can win so he just doesn’t bother. “So, what’s on the agenda for today?” Tommy asks, groaning as he takes the first sip of caffeinated bean water.

“I’m going over to Mad’s place for breakfast. Chimney is out on a day trip or something, so I said I’d come bake muffins with Jee and make pancakes.” Buck yawns and rubs at his eyes. He’s going to need that sugar soon or he’s going to crash out. “When do you have to leave for work?”

Tommy eyes the digital clock on the stove. “I’ve got about an hour.”

Bucks' responding grin is impish. Sliding back into Tommy’s orbit, he grabs the white strings hanging loose from the sweats waistband and looks up at his husband through fluttering lashes. “Mmmmmm. How about I borrow fifteen of those minutes?” A featherlight kiss follows the request.

The next thing Buck knows, he’s back in the bedroom with Tommy kicking the door shut behind them, and they’re both cackling like misbehaving school boys.

If you please, no pressure tagging: @nzchance , @loulou-land , @mustlovelou , @trombonechurchill , @frogsinflannel , @laundryandtaxesworld , @jamieroyjamieroy , @loullaby , @salty-autistic-writer , @inawickedlittletown

[dolcenoo]

The Hands That Healed | KSN | Chapter one : The Coronation

Pairing : Healer!Sunoo x exiled-Princess!Reader

Warnings : misogyny, blood, reader spits on sunoo

A/N : I love Vix

The relic chose me. The eras-old sword, hanging above my father — the king's throne — chose me. Vix Vira was carved into its hilt in the most beautiful handwriting I've ever seen.

It was the day of the king’s abdication. And one of my brother’s coronation. Not mine nor my sister's.

My father, the man whose blood runs through my veins, stared down at me. I wasn't the Crown Princess — just a princess. The royal smith, Nicholas, bowed to me. No one else did. His house had crafted the sword centuries ago, and he had more faith in it than anyone alive.

It had chosen all the kings of Virataeh. Kings, not rulers. My kingdom was ruled by men alone — because the relic refused to choose women. But it chose me.

“Your Majesty, the princess must have manipulated the relic somehow. In no way would the relic choose a woman.” Lord Corax stared down at me in disgust.

I wanted to punch his crooked nose right there and then. But I waited for Father’s response. Surely, he would defend me. The relic had chosen me. Nothing could defy it.

But then his voice echoed — cold as the steel of the sword hanging above his head.

“Vix Vira, the Princess of Virataeh, as High King of Virataeh, I revoke your title. You are no longer successor to the throne. A woman should never be. Unless you admit to the heinous crime of manipulating the sacred relic, or prove otherwise, you will be treated as a commoner. Thrown to the dungeons.”

I wished, right then and there, that that fucking piece of steel would fall on his head and fracture his skull.

“But Father, I'm the Chosen One — the relic chose me!” I began, but the royal guards were already reaching for me. Their iron-clad hands grabbed my arms like binds of steel.

I was dragged through the throne room. Humiliation and shame burned through me like crude oil. I tried to wrench my arms free. I headbutted one of them. Pointless. They didn’t even flinch. Only I bled.

My vision blurred. My own blood soaked into my hair. Yet I still fought — until they threw me into one of the dirty, old chambers and slammed the gate shut.

Now I feel the pain. Headbutting a guard wearing an iron helm was a bad idea. But it gave me a little satisfaction.

I sat alone, head in my hands. I didn’t know for how long. Could’ve been centuries.

Until I heard the rusty groan of the gate opening.

And in stepped a pile of white robes.

Kim Sunoo. The royal healer.

What the hell was he doing here? I didn’t know him. Didn’t know shit, other than the fact that he was the last of his bloodline. His death would mean the death of the healers of Virataeh. I'd like that. Might as well stab him now.

“Why, hello, your Highness. I’m sent here by the crowned prince. To heal you, of course.”

His tone was meant to be friendly — healer-polite. But it wasn’t. The way he accented your Highness, knowing damn well I wasn’t a princess anymore, made my blood boil. So hot I thought it would start sizzling my skin.

“Touch me and I’ll gut you, healer.” It wasn’t a bluff.

“That’s an impossible feat right now, your Highness,” he said, brushing off his robe. “You possess no weapons. Other than your sharp tongue. Luckily, for me, steel cuts — not words. Now let me do my job.”

He spoke like he was eager to finish the task and leave.

“My hands and hairpins are enough—” I didn’t get to finish. His fingers were already brushing the gash on my forehead.

I almost gasped.

His palm was smooth and cold like marble. Yet soft — like the finest silk. It felt like the most soothing balm against my skin. I almost leaned into it.

Then I realized what he’d done.

He healed me. Without my permission.

I didn’t want anything to do with royalty. Didn't want their help. Their pity. Not even my brother's, who spent our whole childhood deeming me. I’d rather bleed out than be healed by a fucking royal healer. But Kim Sunoo had done it. By healing my wounds, he cut my pride.

So I did the first thing that came to mind.

I spat in his face.

Watched it drip down onto his robes.

But his face remained impassive. No disgust. No anger. He didn’t even flinch. He simply wiped his cheek with the sleeve of his robe and turned.

Walked out of my chamber without looking back.

The gate slammed shut behind him.

I was alone once again.

Not for long. For the sword still called my name.

© 2025 dolcenoo all rights reserved.

[alessiathepirate]

December 26

Prompt: Coming home for Christmas.

Resident Evil: Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader

•••

She awoke with a strong feeling of panic deep within her chest as tiny drops of sweat started to appear on her forehead. She didn't understand the feeling. She had a nice dream, not a nightmare - there was no reason to feel afraid.

She looked aside to see what time it was. 1:36 a.m.. It was Christmas already.

Then, after a few seconds of peace and silence, she came to the scary realization - it was that noise what woke her up. As she sat on the bed under the covers, she listened. There it was. That noise. It sounded like careful footsteps mixed with the noise of metal meeting metal.

She felt her heartbeat quicken.

Holy shit.

She tried to find the nightstand with her hand in the darkness, and she almost fell off the bed when she found the edge. She caught herself just in time and soon enough the handgun Leon kept there was in her hands. She looked at it with fear.

She might have to shoot someone.

Another noise. She got off the bed with trembling legs, her bare feet touching the floor. It was cold without the duvet around her.

All right. Just like Leon had taught you.

She thanked Leon a million times in her head that he had taught her the very basics of self defense. He must have felt that this day might come when he isn't around. An intruder. From the people he had crossed in the past.

She opened the bedroom door quietly, without a single squeak. She tried to breath just as quietly.

She walked through the hall as she tried to listen to any small sound. It came from the kitchen area. To the left then.

Her palms were sweating, her hands were shaking. What if she calls out for the intruder and he'll attack her anyway? She'll have to shoot. Will the bullet hit him? Was her aim good enough?

There he stood. In front of the counter with a bag on top of it. He was standing with his back toward her and she could see a gun holster on his right thigh.

She swallowed and tried to keep her arm straight.

"Put your hands where I can see them!" she called out, her voice high pitched and full of fear.

Her throat felt tight.

"I have to say, this isn't the kind of welcome I expected." the man said as he turned around and she let her arms fall beside her.

She recognized him from his voice alone and she felt a special kind of peace run through her at the realization. Her eyes started to water as she looked at him - this was the best Christmas gift ever.

"You didn't say you'll come home." she spoke up.

"I wanted it to be a surprise. I thought that I'll just climb into bed next to you so you'll wake up seeing me first thing in the morning, but that didn't really work out I guess-"

Leon couldn't finish whatever he wanted to say.

Because in the next moment he was too occupied with her and trying to not fall over. Her arms were around him, hugging him close as her nose rested in the crook of his neck, her toes barely touching the ground.

Leon smelled good. She almost forgot how he smelled like. He was gone for so long.

"You scared the shit out of me." she said with a tiny chuckle.

"I didn't mean to. Trust me." he explained as he pressed a kiss to her forehead - even his lips felt nice. "Although I'm happy the self defense classes were useful."

She pulled back and looked at the gun in her hand, then up at Leon. She felt her cheeks redden. "Honestly, I was so scared I forgot to cock the gun."

And Leon laughed. The sound was so loud in the silence that for a second she was sure it would wake up the neighbors. But still, she smiled as he laughed at her stupidity. He most likely hadn't had a single thing to laugh about in weeks.

"Maybe not that useful."

"Hey!" she tried to defend herself. "I wasn't the one who interrupted the class and put me up on a desk and pushed my tounge down my throat."

"I wasn't the one who let me."

She smacked his arm playfully.

"You know what? Just keep the damn thing."

Leon took it from her and put it on top of his bag. It was a safer place for it than her hands.

"I missed you sweetheart."

"I missed you too."

Leon leaned toward her as he put his hands on her face, his thumbs gently stroking her cheeks. He touched her as if he tried to explore every single part of her body after that long time away from her. She liked it a lot.

"What are you waiting for? Kiss me already!"

He did.

He kissed her roughly as his hands continued their exploration. He missed her as much as she missed him. That's why their lips were so hungry to meet with the other's. That's why she almost let out a whimper when he bit her lower lip in excitement.

"I love you. And I hate the damn government, they always take you away from me."

"Believe me darling, I'm yours this time 'til February."

She smiled and so did he.

"I almost forgot, I got a gift for you on the way home."

"Really?"

Her heart fluttered. He thought about her. Even as he was on his way back home, tired and sore, he thought about her.

"Really. I can't wait for you to open it."

She ran her fingers through his hair. It grew again, she noted. She'll have to give him a haircut soon.

"And I can't wait for you to open the present I got for you." her lips curled upwards into a soft smile. "But right now... Right now you need that well deserved rest."

Leon kissed her again, this time softer.

"I love you too, darling. 'Can't wait to wake up next to you tomorrow."

[taekookpassion]

My Horny Boyfriend - Chapter 3

Chapter 3 -- From Sweat to Syllabus

Hai loves... let's continue

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

The afternoon sun was merciless, beating down on the cracked sidewalks as Jungkook's battered motorcycle rumbled down the street. Taehyung clung to his back, thighs snug around Jungkook's hips, helmet slightly crooked because of the hickey blooming beneath his ear.

"I swear," Jungkook yelled over the engine....

"if you try to flirt with our marketing professor again—"

"I wasn't flirting!" Taehyung shouted back, grinning like the devil. "I was appreciating the man's good taste in Italian loafers."

Jungkook growled low, twisting the throttle harder. "You keep appreciating people like that and I'm showing up to class in just my towel. See how you like it."

"You'd get arrested," Taehyung laughed. "But yeah, I would like it."

They skidded to a stop in front of their college gates, the campus bustling with students rushing back from lunch, textbooks tucked under arms, iced coffees in hand. Jungkook yanked his helmet off, sweat plastering his hair down, eyes scanning the crowd with practiced caution. Protective, possessive—always.

Taehyung stepped off the bike, stretching languidly like a bored cat, his shirt riding up just enough to reveal the bite mark Jungkook had left on his hip earlier.

"Oh great," Jungkook muttered. "You're glowing. Now everyone's gonna know I got wrecked before finance class."

"You did wreck me," Taehyung purred, voice barely audible. "And I'm still walking funny, thanks to you."

Jungkook swore under his breath, grabbed his backpack, and threw an arm around Taehyung's shoulders like a warning flag to the world: Mine. Touch him and die.

They entered the main building, the hum of conversation and air conditioning welcoming them into the dull gray walls of academia. A few girls near the notice board whispered and giggled.

"Isn't that the guy from the fight last week?"

"The one who broke a dude's nose for calling his boyfriend a slur?"

"Yeah. Hot. Terrifying. I'd still let him rail me."

Jungkook pretended not to hear.

Taehyung didn't.

He turned, winked at them, and whispered under his breath, "You wouldn't survive a minute."

Jungkook's smirk returned instantly, dangerous and smug.

They slid into their lecture hall, choosing the farthest corner near the windows. Most students gave them a wide berth. Whether it was Jungkook's tattoos peeking out from under his uniform shirt, or the fact that he once snapped a chair leg mid-rant, nobody wanted to mess with the boy who looked like he could crush your skull with one hand—and kiss his boyfriend breathless with the other.

The lecture began—some dull ramble about economic principles and customer engagement—but Jungkook was too busy watching the way Taehyung twirled his pen with fingers that had been buried in his hair just hours ago.

"Eyes on the board, Jeon," Taehyung murmured without turning. "Not my fingers."

"Can't help it," Jungkook replied, voice thick. "Those fingers make me lose my religion."

"Too bad your GPA's already doing that for you."

Jungkook snorted, kicked his ankle lightly under the table.

Midway through class, their professor—Mr. Do—paused mid-sentence.

"Jeon Jungkook," he said, brows lifting. "Why don't you explain the relationship between customer loyalty and brand equity?"

Jungkook sat up, licking his lips, eyes flashing mischief.

"I would, sir," he said smoothly. "But I'm currently loyal to only one brand. And he's sitting right next to me."

The class groaned. Someone clapped. Mr. Do sighed.

Taehyung looked mortified. "Koo," he whispered, hiding his face. "You're gonna get us kicked out."

"Worth it," Jungkook muttered, dropping his hand under the desk to squeeze Taehyung's thigh.

And that was how every afternoon went—

Between half-understood equations and messy presentations, where Jungkook half-assed his slides but still made them look hot doing it, and Taehyung aced every bullet point while looking like a seductive angel in oversized glasses.

Between coffee runs where Taehyung would make sure to pick the cheapest iced americano, half sugar, because that's what their pocket could afford—and Jungkook would steal sips from it with no shame, licking the straw just to make Taehyung blush in the middle of the quad.

Between smuggled kisses in the library aisles and handsy moments in empty classrooms where their moans had to be muffled into wrists and shirt collars.

Where Jungkook would press Taehyung against the chalk-dusted wall and whisper filth into his ear with a grin too dangerous for 2 PM.

"You keep clenching around nothing, baby," he'd murmur, grinding their hips together as his hand crept beneath Taehyung's skirt. "You want me to fu*k you dumb right here? Want me to ruin this perfect little pu--y so you can't sit through your next lecture without dripping?"

And Taehyung—god, Taehyung would breathe out a shaky "Yes, please," even as his fingers clawed at Jungkook's back to stay standing.

Because Jungkook always knew what to say.

What to touch.

What to make Taehyung feel.

Sometimes it was just the way his hand would slip under Taehyung's sweater during late study sessions, palming one of his breasts like it was his own stress ball while muttering, "These fu*king drive me crazy," before licking lazy circles over a nip-ple just to hear Tae gasp.

Other times, it was the way Jungkook would sit behind him in class, hand under the desk, two fingers buried deep while his thumb pressed against Taehyung's cl-t, whispering, "Be quiet, baby. Be a good little sl*t and don't make a sound."

Taehyung would press his cheek to the desk, legs shaking, thighs wet, and all he could do was grip Jungkook's wrist under the desk while his mouth hung open in silence.

Between Jungkook casually draping his arm around the back of Taehyung's chair like a predator marking territory—and shooting death glares at any guy who dared let his eyes linger a second too long on the curve of Tae's lips or the way his jeans hugged his soft, plush ass.

"Eyes forward unless you want your jaw sideways," Jungkook had whispered once to a second-year who got too bold with his stare. The guy never looked Taehyung's way again.

They were chaos and comfort.

A living contradiction.

One second they were bickering about who left the wet towel on the bed, and the next Jungkook was pulling Taehyung onto his lap during break, mouthing at his neck like he needed to memorize the taste.

They were stitched together with lust and loyalty, a patchwork of broken backgrounds and raw love.

They shared pens and painkillers and whispered confessions under the bleachers. They pushed each other's buttons in between Excel sheets and broken pencils—because no matter how fu*ked up their lives were outside, in those four walls of campus, they still felt like something real. Something strong.

But behind the teasing and tension...

Something darker lingered.

A fear.

The kind that sat at the pit of their stomachs like cement.

That fear neither of them wanted to name.

Because love like theirs—two boys from homes that never loved them back, carrying scars from fists and words alike, scraping coins to survive—wasn't the kind the world rooted for.

Life outside that campus was cruel. They knew it too well.

Jungkook had fists for a reason. Taehyung had silence for survival.

There were still days they skipped meals to pay electricity. Still nights they lay together in the dark with growling stomachs, whispering horny promises just to forget the ache of hunger. Still mornings where Taehyung's body trembled not from lust, but from delivery exhaustion... and Jungkook massaged his calves with guilt in his chest because he couldn't give more.

And their love?

Too wild to be safe.

Too physical. Too loud. Too unrelenting.

It didn't fit in neat little boxes. It didn't obey the rules of decency or respectability. It was filthy and unfiltered. It burned hotter than their cheap fan could cool.

Because when Taehyung climbed onto Jungkook's lap at 1 a.m., skirt bunched around his hips and lube in hand, Jungkook didn't just take him.

He worshipped him.

"God, you're soaked," Jungkook moaned into his chest, sucking a nipple between his teeth as his fingers played with the slick folds between Taehyung's thighs. "You're gonna ride me, yeah? Make a mess all over me while I squeeze these perfect tts and fuk up into you like you're made for me?"

Taehyung moaned, grinding down on his fingers with need. "I'm yours," he gasped. "Yours to fu*k, to ruin—just shut up and fill me, Jungkook, please."

Jungkook grabbed his waist, hard. "You say that sh*t, but then you make me hold back. You wanna walk tomorrow or not, baby?"

"Fu*k walking," Taehyung hissed, guiding him to his soaked entrance. "Just make me scream."

And when he finally sank down on him, when Jungkook's mouth opened in a strangled moan and his hands roamed everywhere—pulling at breasts, gripping thighs, spreading him wider—there was nothing left but heat.

"Mine," Jungkook kept chanting, burying his face in the crook of Taehyung's neck. "Fuking mine. You're dripping down my blls, baby. Squeezing me so tight, so fuking tight. You're gonna come for me, yeah? Let me feel you lose it on my dck?"

And Taehyung did.

Crying his name, nails in his back, hips rolling like sin itself.

And when he came, body shaking, tears slipping from the corner of his eyes—Jungkook followed, groaning filth into his ear as they both collapsed in a sweaty, tangled heap of love and mess.

Because they might not have money.

They might not have support.

They might not even have clean sheets.

But they had each other.

And tonight?

They had chocolate ice cream from the half-melted tub in their old rusty freezer.

They had the almond lube they'd saved for nights like this.

And Jungkook?

He had Taehyung.

Soft, ruined, gorgeous, loved.

And nothing else mattered.

**** To be continued....