#but it is time... to get ready to go to work

[theglassofmiddleearth]

Imagine Being Isekai'ed into KPOP DEMON HUNTERS. (Part 1)

The plane was late. The girls weren’t here and Bobby was freaking out. The crowd gathered outside the arena was rising into a crescendo, in raw anticipation. The tension was palpable, it was as if the energy was fizzling from the fans into the very ground of the stadium.

‘Everyone ready? Lets look alive!’ The man with medium length hair spun around, pointing at everyone, checking on progress. Bobby, the manager of Huntr/x frantically flitted around, looking absolutely frazzled.

‘Okay, ready? Yeah, we’re ready. But where are the girls?’ He frowned, turning around to Y/N. The girl in return, shrugged, her eyes glued into her notebook. She was writing a new song. One just in case Huntr/x decided to do another comeback early. The girl group was known for being random with their timings. This meant it make Y/N's job that much harder.

‘Check their location.' She sighed before looking up.

'Although, it isn't exactly unlike them to be late.’ Y/N shrugged, flicking back through her little black notebook. She wrinkled her nose, slightly concerned for the group's well being.

Y/N knew their little secret, for she was their trump card. You see, Y/N was the ghost writer. The one who made sure all the songs went viral, ensuring that the honmoon remained steadfast in its hold. It wasn't an easy job seeing as the songs had to chart well and actually be enjoyable. However, the girls did have great voices so that made it slightly easier.

‘It shows their plane veering off course?’ Bobby flipped his phone around, shoving it above Y/N’s notebook.

The girl looked up and gave a sly grin.

‘Start the music, they’ll arrive.’

Like comets raining down, the three managed to make it onto stage, half way through the song. Y/N looked out into the cheering crowd from behind the curtains, narrowing her eyes at the thin lines rippling with light. Tonight’s concert would be enough. Just enough to keep the shield up. It would hold until their next comeback after this concert. Right?

--

‘Did we just see gold?’ 

‘Ah! I can’t believe we’re doing it!’

‘It’s so exciting!’

The three cheered, shaking each other in sheer joy.

‘This means we can release our song soon and turn the honmoon gold!’ Rumi cheered.

Y/N gritted her teeth, slightly resentful. It was her song. She was the one who wrote it, slaved over it for weeks to make sure it sounded perfect for the girls.

‘It’s finally time!’ Mira exclaimed

‘Wooo!’ Rumi cheered until her voice suddenly cracked, her cheer suddenly muted. ‘Whoa that was weird.’

‘Do you need some water?’ Y/N mumbled, as the elevator doors opened.

‘Did someone say water?’ Bobby grinned, before gesturing frantically and calling out. ‘Water. Now!’

Y/N sighed, walking out from behind the group, watching how they all were showered in praise. Praise that never seemed to be shared with Y/N. It wasn't as if she was asking for all the credit, however it would be nice to hear a thank you once in a while.

‘What a way to end the world tour! And that guy in the finale who exploded confetti?’

‘Amazing special effects.’ Y/N cut in briskly, side eyeing Mira who returned her glance with a slightly panicked one.

‘Yeah it was super chill. Amazing song writing by the way Y/N.’ He added almost as a sidenote.

Y/N sighed and began to zone out. She didn’t need to be there anymore. It was time to go home whilst the girls decided what to do. Y/N had finished writing Golden two weeks before and Huntr/x had already recorded the song, meaning Y/N could rest. It would be a long time since Y/N was able to go home and get a full nights rest instead of being in the studio, mixing and mastering a new song for Huntr/x.

She trudged her way onto the dark streets where her own penthouse apartment resided. It was one of the perks for owning royalty on all the songs of Huntr/x. At least Y/N had been smart enough to invest in the shares of the company with her money. At this rate? She wouldn’t have to work for the next fifty years if she wanted to. Her retirement was set.

The streetlamps left much to the imagination, however, Y/N was too tired to be wary. The streets here were safe. It was a rich neighbourhood anyways. 

Y/N’s phone pinged.

Golden was being released in an hour.

Well that wasn't the plan. But then, did the girls ever tell her of any plans they had? She gritted her teeth, looking at the notification on her phone.

Was it wrong for her to feel slightly resentful? She could see the lines. She could see what the other girls could see, but she couldn’t harness the spiritual power to create a weapon. Y/N was an anomaly. A failure of a hunter.

She scrolled the comments, phone tightening in her hand as she read through each one. The praise was lavished onto the girls. Mira, Zoey and Rumi. Nothing mentioned her, the song writer, the producer. The reason Huntr/x even had songs to sing.

‘You’re looking awfully tense.’ A smooth, plush, voice noted.

Y/N whipped around, brandishing her phone into the shadows.

‘Who’s there?’ She snarled, eyes darting between the flickering streetlights.

‘Don’t be afraid. This won’t hurt one bit.’ Another voice snickered.

…

A pause.

Then another.

Then ten seconds had passed.

‘Um, what?’ The first voice sounded confused.

‘What am I supposed to be waiting for?’ Y/N shifted her posture, now feeling more confident.

‘Your soul. We were meant to take your soul.’ A deep voice muttered, as five boys stalked out of the shadows separately.

‘What the f-’

‘Who are you?’ The one with black hair, took point, walking towards her with a hungry glint.

‘My mother taught me not to tell my name to strangers.’ She snipped back, studying the new figures walking towards her. They were otherworldly in beauty. Jaws chiselled, faces unblemished and fair.

A flash of purple, jagged lines across skin.

‘You’re demons.’ Y/N deadpanned, facepalming. ‘No wonder you’re all so damn pretty.’

The one with pink long hair and heart shaped bangs snickered, sidling up to her. ‘You think we’re pretty?’ He gave a sickly sweet grin, reaching toward her chin.

‘Don’t get ahead of yourself asshat.’ Y/N slapped away his hand. ‘I’m actually not into pretty boys so don’t even try.’ Her body was tight, poised to jump at any time. Even if she couldn't harness the spirit power, she could fight just as well as the rest of the hunters.

‘Maybe she's more into guys like me.’ The one on her left spoke up, shifting into her line of sight.

Y/N’s eyes traced over the muscled man, her eyes lingering on his revealed abdomen as he stretched.

‘Huh, gym rats. Also not my type.’ She shook her head, turning to leave. ‘I’m not into conventionally attractive men. I don’t share.’ 

‘Who says you have to share?’ 

Y/N jumped slightly, surprised by the man with black hair standing now in front of her.

‘We know you write all of Huntr/x’s songs. It’s how they're so popular.’ The one with purple hair, wrapped an arm around Y/N's shoulder.

‘Don’t touch me.’ She brushed him off, backing away into a wall.

‘Yeah?’ The wall replied.

‘Huh?’ Y/N turned around, only to be met by a wall of solid muscle. ‘OKAY STOP.’ She whisper-yelled. ‘What do you guys want from me? I don’t carry cash.’

'What? We don' want your money.' The one with blue hair chuckled, leaning on a lamp post.

'We want something more valuable.' The tallest said, flicking away his pink bangs.

'And that is?' Y/N narrowed her eyes, suspicious of the group of strange yet alluring men.

‘Write for us. We need a debut single in three days.’ The one who looked like the leader gave a wicked smile.

‘What makes you think I would do that?’ Y/N crossed her arms, tilting her head in a question.

‘Because we can give you what you want. Fame, recognition, power.’ 

'Who says-' Y/N began before falling to her knees, clutching her head.

Unbeknownst to her, the boys hurriedly gathered around her as she fell, the closest catching her before she collapsed on her side.

The outside world was suddenly cut off from Y/N's mind. It was silent.

And then it began.

Pain.

Throbbing pain as visions filled her head. It was searing, as if a hot knife were being twisted. Visions, sounds, memories. This wasn’t her world. This was the world of…

KPOP DEMON HUNTERS.

Part 2

[gojoest]

a shape that could be ours — gojo satoru

synopsis: newlyweds are always asked the same question: “when will the babies come?” sometimes, the questions are harmless. other times, they get under your skin. you start to think and you start to imagine. maybe you tuck a pillow under your shirt one time, just to see. and maybe… your husband, gojo satoru, sees it too.

warnings: f!reader (she/her), established relationship (you are newly married), pregnancy/baby talk, pet names (pretty, baby), domestic fluff, not proofread, wc: 2.6k, dividers by @/cursed-carmine

“what? don’t you want a baby with me?” satoru asks as he sets the plates down on the counter and walks over to you. his voice is low and teasing. but not teasing in the usual carefree way; there’s something softer threaded through it, something almost serious. like it isn’t really a question he’s asking at all, but a quiet hope. a request. one he’s afraid to say out loud too often.

you blink up at him, unsure whether to be flustered or frustrated.

dinner had just ended. it was the first time you invited family over since the wedding. a small gathering, really, that still somehow managed to feel like a full-blown event. everything had to be perfect. you spent the whole day cleaning, organizing, cooking. and not just because you’re a perfectionist, but because…

…his clan is, well, intense.

polished and traditional in all the wrong ways where every smile hides a critique, every compliment is laced with a condition. you knew it wouldn’t be easy to deal with them tonight but it mattered to you for the dinner to go well.

and in many ways, it did. except for that constant baby talk. family pressure.

“so, when are we going to hear the pitter-patter of little feet?”

“you two are married now. it’s about time, don’t you think?”

“i give it three months.”

‘three months? i’m hoping to get good news by the end of this month. the gojo blood is impatient.”

the laughter at the table was warm and lighthearted on the surface. but all of it made you want to disappear into your bowl of rice. every eye was on you and satoru — some amused, others expectant. as if you two were a machine that could be activated at any moment to start producing the next generation.

throughout the entire dinner you could barely take a sip of your drink without actually chocking on it.

meanwhile, satoru was just grinning like the menace he is — relaxed, smug and completely unfazed as always.

“we’ve been practicing”, he said brightly, “when the time comes, you will all know. it will show”, while caressing your belly shamelessly.

you nearly dropped your chopsticks. that idiot.

no matter how many times you jabbed his elbow, perhaps at times hard enough to leave a bruise, he kept chuckling, leaning over to kiss your temple like the world’s most supportive husband, and carried on with his antics. entertaining everyone with far too much confidence and far too many innuendos. not embarrassed at all, not for a second trying to avoid the topic when it was brought up. in fact, he kept leaning into it. perhaps because he enjoyed the idea a little bit too much and loved making it known since it involved the two of you becoming even closer. or perhaps as a subtle way of signaling you that he’s ready even if you aren’t. either way, he was absolutely in his element.

you, however, were ready to crawl under the table and stay there until the end of time, embarrassed.

by the time everyone was finally saying goodbye, you could barely fake another smile. several relatives winked on their way out, whispering things like “go work on that baby now” as if they didn’t already do enough damage to your nervous system, but now this too.

hours later, you’re standing in the kitchen rinsing plates, trying to scrub both the dishes and your embarrassment clean.

satoru is still watching you. he tilts his head, eyes a little softer now, like he’s peeling back the layer of jokes he wears so well. he steps closer to you and reaches out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. then his hand tilts your chin upward, coaxing you to meet his gaze.

“i mean it”, he says quietly. “don’t you want a baby with me?”

as a reflex, you try to turn away, but his hand holds you steady. not forceful, but firm enough, like he’s not ready to let you run from the question again.

“i…” you mumble. “i never said i didn’t want that.”

and that’s all he needs. a slow smile spreads across his lips. not a cocky one, but soft. almost relieved. he lets you go, brushing his fingers along your jaw as he pulls back. “good”, he says. “because i already think about it way too much.”

indeed, satoru has been imagining this, fantasizing even, for far too long, before you even got married. and all of his earlier teasing wasn’t just for show.

but on your end, it starts slowly. quietly. like how you start noticing flowers blooming only after winter has begun to fade.

a toddler’s giggle catches your attention in the park. you weren’t even really looking, just sipping on your coffee and scrolling mindlessly on your phone. but the sound draws your eyes up. a little girl in pink overalls is running after bubbles, squealing with laughter. her parents sit nearby on a bench, watching with contentment.

you don’t even realize you’re standing until the bubble pops and the girl turns to look at you, grinning. you smile back.

and just like that, you find yourself looking more often. at playgrounds. at babies wrapped in slings. at tiny shoes lined up in store windows. at couples who walk slowly because they’re pacing themselves with the unsteady toddle of their child between them.

you tell yourself it’s just because everyone keeps bringing it up. that your brain is on autopilot, stuck on a topic you never gave much thought before.

but then, you catch yourself lingering in the baby aisle at the store. just a second too long and just enough to picture what it might be like… a tiny hoodie with a little bear face. a pair of miniature sneakers that could fit in your palm. but alas, you shake your head and move on like that’ll erase the softness creeping in.

of course, satoru doesn’t help.

in fact, he seems to notice the shift in you immediately, even if you haven’t admitted it to yourself yet. one night, while you’re brushing your teeth, he appears in the mirror behind you, eyes sleepy but still, mischievous.

“if it’s a girl”, he says softly, “i want her to have your eyes.”

you pause, toothbrush still in your mouth. you look at his reflection in the mirror, he’s smiling. he says it so casually, like you’d been in the middle of that conversation all along.

pulling the toothbrush out, you gasp. “…what?”

“i mean it, pretty”, he says, leaning lazily against the doorframe. “your eyes. she’ll have me wrapped around her tiny little finger, obviously. but if she takes your eyes? i’m done for.”

you blink at him, unsure if your heart is skipping a beat from his words or because you brushed a little too hard… “satoru—”

“and i want to teach her how to fight”, he adds, grinning now. “so i can pretend i’m cool and strong before she decides i’m not.”

you stare at him. “looks like you’ve put way too much thought into this”

he shrugs, utterly unbothered. “of course i have. i think about it all the time.”

you turn away, rinsing your mouth, pretending your hands aren’t a little shaky from how serious he sounded underneath all the teasing.

another time, you’re curled on the couch, scrolling, when he flops next to you and plops a tiny onesie in your lap. it says: strongest baby alive!

“what— how— why do you even have this?” you ask, holding it up like it might detonate.

he grins. “came across it online. couldn’t resist. look, it’s perfect!”

“satoru.”

“what? just prepping for greatness”, he chuckles. but there’s something in the way he watches you after. like he’s waiting. measuring your reaction. seeing if your fingers linger on the fabric. and when they do — just a second too long — his smile falters. softens and turns quiet.

he doesn’t push it, though. doesn’t mention it again. instead, the next morning, you find your favorite mug already filled with coffee, and beside it… a baby spoon.

you roll your eyes. but you also don’t throw it away.

and that night, while helping your friend babysit her toddler, you let the little boy climb into your lap. he has chubby fingers and impossibly soft hair, and he tugs at your necklace while babbling nonsense. at one point, he rests his head against your chest and sighs. you feel something in your chest flutter, crack open…

when satoru comes to pick you up, the boy doesn’t want to let go of your hand. satoru says nothing on the ride home. but he doesn’t let go of your hand, either. one hand on the wheel, the other resting gently on yours, warm against your thigh.

a few days later, satoru was abruptly called by the higher-ups about something last minute. nothing new. he kissed your cheek, told you not to wait up and vanished with a sweet little wink before putting on his blindfold.

now hours later, the silence he left behind still lingers. there’s no hum of his laughter, no echo of his dramatic commentary from the hallway, no footsteps chasing you down for one more kiss. just you.

you’re folding the laundry — a pile of shirts, a few of his socks that somehow always get lost in pairs, and then… a pillow. an extra cushion from the couch that ended up in the wrong basket.

you pick it up absently, ready to toss it aside, but… your hands hesitate. your eyes lower, thumb smoothing across the fabric. your heartbeat shifts a little and almost without thinking, you press the pillow against your stomach. a little too high at first, then you adjust it lower. tuck it in and pull your shirt over it.

just to see, to feel.

you walk to the mirror, barefoot, and look at your reflection. the shape is awkward and lumpy. not real. but the illusion is enough. your hand rests on the makeshift bump and then, slowly, one starts to move, caressing lightly over the curve.

you know it’s silly, but something within you responds. your face warms. you start to imagine satoru’s hand covering yours. you imagine him kneeling in front of you, placing a kiss against your stomach, whispering some ridiculous name idea he’s already picked out. you imagine tiny clothes, sleepless nights, holding something small and warm that’s half you and half him… you let yourself smile.

fingers brush gently over the fabric again. this could happen — you think — it’s possible. it’s real — and for the first time, the idea doesn’t make you want to run and hide. in fact, it makes your eyes sting a little. you lose yourself so deeply in the fantasy that your ears don’t catch on the sound of the front door open.

satoru didn’t mean to get home this quietly. usually, he makes a noise on purpose — jingles the keys, sings something stupid in the hallway, says something lovesick as soon as he opens the door just to hear you laugh.

but tonight, something stops him. he’s got that feeling. a pull.

the house is dim, soft with the kind of stillness that suggests you’re somewhere in thought. then he hears the faint shuffle of feet — yours — and he follows the sound like a thread, guiding him toward a barely cracked bedroom door.

he’s halfway through taking off his blindfold when he sees it through the narrow crack. you, in front of the mirror. a pillow under your shirt. your hands on it like it’s real.

he doesn’t move at first. his eyes track the curve of your body with something close to awe and he forgets how to breathe, or perhaps he’s afraid that if he breathes the moment will vanish. something primal and visceral hitting him all at once. you’re not smiling in the mirror like it’s a joke. you’re dreaming. touching the false belly like you’re already connected to someone that doesn’t exist — but could…

he thinks he might die on the spot. this is the future he’s been aching for in silence. this is the image that’s kept him up at night, one hand over his eyes, the other gripping the sheets, wondering when (if) you’d want the same…

and then, you see him. in the mirror just beyond your shoulder. startled, you turn. your hands fumble the pillow, cheeks heating up from embarrassment. “i— i was just… you know—it’s nothing. i was just being silly—”

he opens the door fully now and steps in slowly as if he’s approaching a dream he doesn’t want to wake from.

“stop”, he says, his voice barely above a whisper. he walks over to you like he’s being pulled by something magnetic. his hands are warm when he places one over the bump. even if it’s fake, it doesn’t matter. his fingers tremble anyway.

“you look beautiful. so beautiful, baby”, he murmurs, eyes not leaving you. “like it’s already real”, he swallows hard.

god, what i wouldn’t give to make it real, he thinks. to watch you grow round and soft with his child. to see the way your body would change — carry the weight of something made by both of you. to feel your skin stretch under his palms, life blooming inside you because of him.

he would worship you. he already does. but like that? pregnant with his child? he wouldn’t survive it.

he plants a soft kiss to your temple, hand curling protectively around your back, the pillow pressing between you. “i want to give you everything, you know that?” he whispers, but his voice sounds strained like he’s holding back too much all at once.

you nod against him. but, it’s not enough. not when you’ve looked at yourself in the mirror like that, not when you’ve imagined it too…

“say it”, he breathes against your hair. “tell me you want it too”

you look up at him, eyes vulnerable. that same look you gave your reflection.

“i want it”, you whisper. “i want a baby with you”

…and that’s it. that’s the thing that unravels him. letting out a shaky breath, he presses his forehead to yours. eyes fluttering closed as he cradles your face in both hands. he’s barely holding himself from dropping to his knees and pressing his mouth to your stomach, kissing it until you forget every reason you ever hesitated.

“let me give you a baby”, he says it now. clearly. openly. reverently. “let me make you a mother”, his thumb stroking your cheeks as his voice falls like a prayer and a plea all at once. “i’ll take care of everything”, he promises. “you’ll never lift a finger. just be mine. just carry ours.”

his lips find yours into a kiss, slow and aching, full of thousand nights he spent dreaming of this exact moment. and in the back of his mind, there’s only one thought echoing over and over.

she wants it. she wants this. she wants me. she wants us.

…and that’s enough to break him, rebuild him, and start everything new.

he gently scoops you into his arms, carefully — like you’re already carrying something precious inside you. your hands fly to his shoulders, your face closer to his. and it’s one of those rare moments where there’s no teasing on his features. only something quiet, something tender. something that longs.

he carries you to the bed like he’s bringing you home, and when he lays you down, he takes a moment. just a moment, to look at you. the fake curve of the pillow under your shirt, the way your hands settle over it instinctively. the way your eyes never leave his.

satoru sinks to his knees beside the bed, presses a kiss low on the fabric over your belly. one hand slides over the curve gently, and then, looking up at you through his lashes, he murmurs,

“i’m going to make this real now.”

[awrkive]

NEIGHBOR BLUNDER, pt. 6 — JJK (m.)

in hindsight, you should have seen it coming. had always known your luck – or lack of it, thereof – and the universe's meticulous plan of your downfall made it easy for you to get tangled up in a series of unfortunate events, which presents itself as the neighbor that lives across from you, jeon jungkook.

PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader

GENRE r18+ (fluff, angst, smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

CHAPTER WORD COUNT 14.6k

CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC neighbor!jk, bsf!jimin, accountant!oc, software engineer!jk, jk and jimin are chaebols lol, minjoon boyfriends <<<<3, as usual, super dreamy jk 😞 arguments,, lowkey,, emotional constipation like always, kinda angsty if u squint. Also jungkook kinda abuses the fuck out of 23278648 pet names available in the world even eye laughed... SPOILER AHEAD DONT READ IF U DONT WANNA KNOW [ explicit sexual content: mature language, very indulgent bl*wjob scene lmfao, a teeny tiny bit of c*mplay, fing*ring, c*nniling*s, penetr*tive s*x (p in v), c*wgirl s*x, protected s*x, multiple org*sms, jungkook has a filthy mouth 🫤😑😑 ]

NOTES i dont have anything to say except enjoyyy!! let me know your thoughts in my inbox gimme ur theories gimme ur keeb smashes gimme ur 2746th "i want nb jk so bad" 🤓☝🏼💓💓

[ SERIES MASTERLIST ] // [ MAIN MASTERLIST ]

You like to think of yourself as a reasonable person. You make okay decisions, even though it takes you a few weeks and a thousand debriefs. You can’t buy something off the rack without going through 10-year-old posts on Reddit, and you certainly are very keen with people you let into your life – given your two to three friends. 

The point is, while you may be a bit of a klutz, you take your adult life kind of seriously, and especially your relationships.

You were so sure that what happened back at the motel with Jungkook when you were stranded was going to be this whole… one-time-thing. That you both were just horny, stuck in a weird situation, just heat-of-the-moment lapse in judgment, and afterwards he would tell you to forget about it. And if he did, you’d accept it. It might crush you a little bit inside, but you know you’ll be fine to keep going on with your life even though that might have been the best orgasm you’ve had since forever and you’d like to experience it again.

What surprised you the most wasn’t that it happened. It was how you felt the next morning. 

There was no regret. 

When you opened your eyes – bleary and barely awake because of the little hours you got in – Jungkook wasn’t in bed. He was coming back through the door with a bag of pastries and coffee from what you assumed was the local bakery. He told you everything was handled, his car and your stuff, and you could take your time getting ready. You’d head back once you were set.

You fell asleep again on the ride home. Jungkook walked you to your apartment and bid you a kind smile when you said goodbye. 

And nothing happened after. No awkward texts. No slow fade. And you were just so ready for the worst thing to happen. Like him suddenly going MIA on you or something… 

But now it’s the day after, and you’re together again in his car after he texted you to ride with him on the way home after work – cramped up in the driver’s seat with you on his lap.

Frantically making out. 

“Oh,” you let out a soft moan, carding your fingers through Jungkook’s hair, not even caring about how you’re messing up his hairdo.

A needy, impatient sort of heat builds between you two. His mouth is on yours, hands exploring like he couldn’t decide where to start. Another moan slips out from you he cups the swell of your ass through your trousers, and a rush of frustration bubbles up in your chest.  

God, why didn’t you wear a skirt?

“You smell good,” Jungkook murmurs into your neck, kissing a slow trail up to your jaw before groaning as you rock against him, grinding against the growing bulge pressing up through his slacks. 

“Y-yeah?” you mumble, tugging at his tie and popping open the first three buttons of his shirt. Your fingers graze his chest, warm and solid and stupidly inviting. 

“This is the scent you wore back at the party.” He untucks your blouse from your waistband, his warm hands sending shivers down your spine when they travel across the span of your back.

Yeah. And also the scent you exclusively use for special, big occasions. Because in the true broke girl tradition, there’s always that unreasonably priced perfume you keep in your vanity while you spritz the hell out of the cheap one. You’ve only used it a total of ten times ever since you bought it a month ago, the eleventh time being now… which is just a regular day in the office.

But being in Jungkook’s lap and making out with him in his car is not regular day in the office. So maybe you lucked out on spraying that expensive perfume – totally because it was just there on your vanity, by the way – and not because you were expecting something to happen today.

Totally.

“Uh, yeah,” you shift on his lap. “It was on sale.” 

Which is probably information he did not need and a total bald-faced lie. 

He hums, kisses dropping down to your sternum, hands getting heavier under your clothes. You take his face in your hands again to press your mouth on him, your moan getting swallowed by his eager reciprocity, both in the movement of his tongue inside your mouth and his erection that’s making you wet your panties as you rock your hips against him. 

Jungkook’s fingers trace the cups of your bra. “Can I?” He asks, mouth agape. You don’t even know what he meant, you just nod. A second later and he’s squeezing your breasts in his palms.

“S-so you wanted to drive me home for this?” you arch your brow at him playfully, grinding against his lap and relishing in the warmth of his hands on your chest. God, you wish he’d do something about your bra soon. 

Jungkook chuckles, nipping your jaw. “No. I wanted to ask you to come over to my place to have dinner.”

As if that triggered your intestines, your stomach suddenly growls – quite loudly in the confined space of his car and around the quiet parking lot of the building. 

Jungkook freezes, staring at you. 

You shut your eyes close in embarrassment, groaning. “Ugh, sorry. I haven’t eaten at all today and you mentioning dinner is making me remember that.” 

“Oh…���

Jungkook reluctantly watches you as you carefully leave his lap, completely halting your previous activity. He grips your hand as he helps you transfer to the passenger’s seat, looking at you as you put your hair up and tuck your shirt.

He adjusts uncomfortably in his seat, clearing his throat. You can’t help but eye the very obvious outline of his dick in his pants, and it’s very huge, alright, making you grin. 

“I hope that’s not gonna be a problem.” 

Jungkook takes in the mischief in your eyes and scoffs playfully, shaking his head as he starts the ignition to drive. 

You spend about thirty minutes in the shower – which is definitely not at all your usual routine – but it did the job. You smell like raspberries now, and the outfit you pulled on afterwards looks casual enough for Jungkook not to suspect what’s going on underneath. Just an oversized shirt and pajama pants. Innocent. Normal. 

But you have on a lacy pair of white thong… just in case something does happen tonight. At least you’re the least bit prepared… 

When you look at your phone, it’s already 10:15pm, and Jungkook told you to be over at his place at 10:20. You check yourself in the mirror one last time and head straight to the kitchen where you grab the plastic container of a batch of choco-chip cookies you baked the second he dropped you off earlier.

You’ve perfected the recipe now, you’re sure of it. 

But just as you make a beeline for your door, a sudden warmth gushes between your thighs.

An all too familiar feeling by now. 

Oh no.

You dash to the bathroom, tug your pajama pants down, slide off your panties and – yep. There it is. A bright red stain against the flimsy white fabric that went right through the pants.

“Goddamn it,” you mutter, frowning. Of all the nights to get your period, of course it had to be this one.

You had showered. Prepped. Put on the g-string. And you were this close to maybe – possibly – having sex with Jungkook. You hadn’t said anything about it, not outright, but come on. That impulsive make-out session in the car earlier? The way he kept adjusting himself? The tension practically humming between you?

Yeah, something was definitely going to happen.

Well, probably not anymore.

Grumbling, you toss your pants into the laundry and rummage through your cabinet for a pad. You move like you’re trudging through emotional mud, begrudgingly pulling on a clean pair of a less sexier granny panties and fresh bottoms.

So much for that.

It’s not like you had any of this figured out anyway. No “so, what happened” talk, no conversations about the night at the motel or whatever is… happening now. And now your uterus has decided to sabotage you. Amazing. 

Still, cookies in hand and spirits only mildly deflated, you head out of your apartment and make your way to Jungkook’s porch. 

He opens the door on the second buzz, greeting you with a grin that makes your stomach flip. Even more so when you realize he’s wearing sweatpants. Grey sweatpants. Ugh. This man.

“Hi.” 

“Hey, come in,” Jungkook says, eyeing the plastic in your hand. “What’s that?” 

“Cookies.” you bring it up to your chest. “I made them real quick so it’s not a lot. But I can assure you it’s better now and you definitely won’t get food poison.” 

He chuckles, leading the way to his living area. “You say that as if I got food poisoning the first time.” 

“Maybe you did and you just didn’t tell me.” 

He shakes his head, still smiling. “You know you didn’t have to bring something, right?” 

“Uh-huh.,” you mutter, following him in, “but since you’re making dinner, I thought I could take care of dessert.” 

The moment the words leave your mouth, your face scrunch up. 

Jungkook pauses just long enough to glance back at you, amused, before shaking his head again with another soft laugh. 

What? What did he think you meant by that? Geez… 

Comfortable silence settles between you, the soft clinking of wine glasses and the distant narration of some random BBC documentary filling the space. You teased Jungkook again about his massive TV – said the faces look so big that it’s just kind of funny – but really, it’s kind of cute the way his ears flush red when he gets shy talking about his stuff. 

You talk. About work, mostly. Jungkook’s been pulling longer shifts, taking on more than usual. You tell him about your days have been the same lately, just mindless repetition. He compliments the cookies you brought, and after a bit of coaxing, admits the first batch you made for him weeks ago were kind of bad. You laugh and pretend to be offended.

It was nice. 

Somehow, you talk about everything and nothing. Not once either of you mentioned the motel. Not the kiss in the parking lot. Not even a vague nod to the tension that’s been following you around like a ghost. 

And maybe that’s the problem.

It feels like Jungkook’s waiting for you to jump the gun first. But how the hell are you supposed to do that? How do you casually bring up the fact that he kissed you like he meant it? How exactly are you going to talk about the night you shared a kiss with the man you think you’ve liked for so many weeks now? How are you going to talk about how he made you orgasm to sleep because it was the best you've ever had since and it was so much better than the scenarios you’ve made up in your head? And god, those scenarios didn’t even live up to the very real thing. 

You want to bring it up. God, you need to. Not because you’re hopeful that this night would lead to something – but because you just need to know if he would want to do that again sometime.

But something in you is scared that Jungkook will suddenly speak up and tell you the night was a mistake and you both should get over it.

But you also know that kiss in the parking lot must’ve meant something. The way you just jumped at each other like you weren't in a public space and Jungkook not minding one bit must’ve meant that he wanted it too.

That maybe, just like you, he can’t help but notice the thick tension up in the air as you sit on the couch so close to each other, his familiar scent overwhelming your senses, and the way he looks so cozy in his white shirt and… grey sweatpants. Ugh. You swear you weren’t going to pay any attention to it as soon as he opened that door, but how could you not when he just looks way too effortlessly good and you know exactly what it's hiding–

“You want some more?” 

Your thoughts are cut short when Jungkook suddenly speaks, looking at your wine glass. 

“Uh…” you glance at the clock. “No, I should probably get going. It’s almost 11. I have work tomorrow– we have work tomorrow,” you chuckle awkwardly, glancing at the wall clock across the room. 

Just like that, you go back to your shell again, overwhelmed by your anxiety and fear of rejection. 

But for a brief second, Jungkook looks disappointed by your response, although he’s quick to wipe that off with a smile. 

“Okay. I’ll walk you out.”

Okay. Well maybe you didn’t really want him to say that at all. 

Hiding your disappointment this time, you stand up from the seat and let Jungkook talk you into leaving the wine glasses on the coffee table as opposed to bringing it to the kitchen yourself, as Jungkook insisted he’ll take care of it once you leave. 

Jungkook’s hand lingers on your lower back as you stand by his door, ready to say goodbye. 

“Thanks for the dinner.” you say quietly.

“You’re welcome,” Jungkook smiles. “We can do this again sometime.” 

“Sure. Why not?” 

“Alright. See you tomorrow, then?” 

You halt your steps, lips curling into a half-smile. “That flatters me.” 

Jungkook leans on the doorframe, crossing his arms across his chest. “I was hoping so.” 

You bite back a grin, nod, turning to leave. But…

“__—”

“Jungkook—”

Your head snaps quickly to his direction, and you both stare at each other in surprise. Jungkook’s gaze melts into a soft look.

“You first.” 

“No, you first.” 

“___,” he says with a chuckle, coaxing. 

You take a deep breath, bracing yourself. 

Just take the chance, something in your head tells you. 

And you took the bait. 

“This is going to sound incredibly stupid,” you start, voice low and hesitant. “but what happened back at the motel — I’m not sure if we’re allowed to talk about that again — but we kind of kissed this afternoon and I… I don’t know what that meant. I guess what I’m trying to say is… I wanna do it again sometime. If you’re willing,” you voice wavers, trying to look into his eyes but the weight of your words crawl deep in your skin it makes you scared to even make eye contact. “But if you’re not, then that’s totally fine. We can forget it happened.” 

Silence stretched for a beat too long. Panic starts to rise in your chest – until Jungkook steps forward.

“If I’m willing?” He echoes, blinking like he’s not sure he heard you right. 

You nod, wary. “Y-yeah…?” 

He steps closer, and your breath catches. 

“Do you know how much I’ve thought about you since then?” He takes a tentative touch to your hips, and when you don’t say a thing or make a move to pry him off, Jungkook takes a hold of you to pull you closer, making you gasp quietly. “Everytime I close my eyes, all I can think about is how I’ve held these hips as I licked you, kissed you, and touched you. I’ve never been one to give in to my wants as easy as the way you made me when we walked back to my car this afternoon because all I wanted to do was to have a taste of you again, even though I would’ve liked for us to talk first. That means I can’t have enough,” Jungkook studies your face as he leans down, gaze so full of want, but there’s a certain control under his hold. It makes your breath hitch.

“And you want to know if I’m willing?” Jungkook tacks on, lifting his hand to caress your cheek, gaze dropping from your eyes to your lips. You anticipate his next words, but when he presses you closer – that’s when you feel it. The hard-on he’s sporting under the grey sweatpants you’ve been fantasizing about ever since you walked in on his apartment.  

“Oh…” you gasp, reaching for his shoulder as you feel your knees slightly buckling. 

Then, Jungkook chuckles, amused. But it’s dark and rich, and his boner is still very much pressing to your stomach. 

In the heat of the moment, you stand on your tippy toes and kiss Jungkook. 

He seems to be surprised at it first, but his arms slowly make their way around you to hold you as you tighten yours around his neck, letting out a soft moan when his tongue prods in. 

You stumble inside, Jungkook walking you back inside his apartment all the while not breaking the kiss, and the next thing you know, he’s kicking off the door shut, hands travelling down to your legs to carry you across his apartment. 

You yelp at the sudden way your feet get lifted off the ground, but Jungkook carries you with a certain grace as if you’re nothing but paperweight – hot tongue swirling around your mouth like kissing you was a lifeline. 

He lays you down gently on the couch, trailing kisses along your jaw. When you grab at the hem of his shirt, he sits back to quickly rid himself off the material. 

You bite on your bottom lip as soon as you see what’s on display. Wide chest, narrow waist, toned abdomen, and sculpted arms with ink. You would’ve liked to admire it more but Jungkook quickly goes back to kissing you after taking off his shirt, hands roaming all over your body as if he can’t quite decide where to put it at all. Then, he kneels in between your spread legs, slowly settling himself down on the floorboards. You watch with half-lidded eyes as his lips leave trail kisses down your neck to your sternum, until his hands slide your top off your stomach, kissing the exposed skin. 

Your hands settle on his soft locks, where you admire the way he moves down your body, huge hands splayed on your skin, making you ache in between your legs.

Your eyes blow out as you remember exactly what’s in between your legs. 

Fuck. 

Before Jungkook can kiss you there, you grab at his shoulders. “Jungkook,” 

He looks up quickly, fringe going in different directions, biceps unconsciously flexing at your touch. “Hm?” 

Even though it pains you, you tell him, “We can’t tonight…” 

“Ah, that’s alright,” He looks up at you in genuine concern. “You’re not feeling okay tonight?” 

You shake your head. “No… that’s not it,” You make a face, feeling annoyed all over again. God. Hot sex was on the table. And your period just ruined it. “I got my period. My cycle usually starts at the end of the month.” 

Jungkook nods in realization, squeezing your hips in understanding.

“Sorry, then. Should I get you something? I think I may have ice cream in the fridge.” He raises a brow, eyes drifting off to his kitchen. 

You take his cheek, grabbing his jaw gently to make him look at you. 

“Actually… I was thinking we don’t have to stop.” 

His eyes may have lightened up, and Jungkook takes your wrist to press a kiss to the side of your hand. 

“Yeah, I don’t really mind as long as you’re comfortable with it. We’ll put on a towel— okay, I can see on your face that’s not what you meant.” 

“No…? I was thinking I’ll give you a blowjob instead.” 

“Ah…” Jungkook nods again. “Are you sure? Don’t you have cramps?” 

You chuckle. “Not yet. It’ll kick in on the second day,” You nudge him with your foot. “Come on up here.” 

“You’re sure? We don’t need to do anything, baby,” 

Baby. God. That nickname had always been so generic but there’s something about the way it rolls off Jungkook's tongue. 

“I’m sure.” 

Jungkook gives you one of his million dollar smiles and kisses his way back up until your lips meet again. 

“Can I?” You nod when Jungkook tugs at your shirt. With your permission, he slides your top off, hissing at the sight of your bra-cladded chest. 

He goes down to lick your nipple through the material, and you grab his hair when you feel him give you a slightly harsh nip. He licks it again, as if offering some sort of silent apology. 

When he pulls the cups down, that’s when you push him to the side making him fall to the couch, and you take that time to kneel down this time in between his spread legs. 

“Put this on your knees first.” Jungkook hands you the throw pillow on the couch. You take them and fluff them under your knees, and when you finish doing that, you attend to Jungkook’s very taunting grey sweatpants, tugging it off him. He helps you slide the pants off together with his boxers – and you have to fight the urge to take it slow when his hard cock springs free. 

You’ve seen it before, have held it – but those moments felt so brief that they almost didn’t feel real. So when you see it up-close, so girthy and standing tall against his abdomen with the angry red tip slightly leaking, your breath gets caught up in your throat. 

“Fuck,” Jungkook lets out a low groan when you begin teasing kisses to his thighs.

His gorgeous, thick thighs.

God… you wonder how it would tense up with your feet resting on them as you bounce up and down on his huge cock. 

But you watch the way they clench when your lips get nearer to where he aches; watch as they tense under your touch when you place your hands there. And you watch Jungkook – most especially – as he looks down at you with hooded eyes, dark with want, his chest heaving under the tension. 

“Is this what you want?” You ask, blinking at him meekly. His mouth opens to speak, but you don’t let him say another word as you let a glob of saliva fall down to the crown of his cock. You adjust your position in between his thighs, getting more comfortable but also pushing your ass out as you wrap your hand around the base. 

Jungkook hisses when you twist your hand, gingerly spreading the wetness of your saliva around him. He lets his back fall to the back of the couch with a light thud, and you smirk when you see his abs clench. 

“You’re killing me here, __. Don’t tease.” 

You give him a non-committal hum. You meant to tease, but touching him like this feels like all your thoughts have suddenly gone to mush, and you’re left with only want – the want to pleasure him, to get him to let out those little huffs and grunts like when you two kissed…

You languidly move your hand around his shaft, humming at the way his tip oozes out more wetness which makes it easier for you to stroke him. You can’t help but watch in fascination as he seems to continue to grow around you. So hard and veiny… almost needy, the way he breathes heavily above you.

“Baby, fuck… you’re so pretty, god—” Jungkook’s words get cut off when you lean down to close your lips around the head, sucking at the softer tip before you take more of his length. “F-fuck…” Jungkook rasps, fingers gathering your hair in a makeshift ponytail when you start bobbing your head up and down.

He feels big. Warm. But you smile to yourself when Jungkook shifts on the couch at the sensation. It felt good to have him squirming like that beneath your touch, to have him keening like this. 

Gripping the base, you twist your fingers around the remaining length you couldn’t put in your mouth, jacking him off. From there, you start picking up your pace until Jungkook’s a panting mess. You’ve never pegged him as the type to be so… vocal. But it felt good, and at this point, you just want to see him let go of himself, even as he grips your hair tighter by every second that passes. It didn’t hurt enough to be uncomfortable, the force was just right – and it felt like he’s holding on to every muscle of his to not use too much force on your head by the way you can feel his other hand hovering over your hair. 

“Ah, __… baby, shit. Yeah, you’re taking my cock so well– shit…”

You pump him faster, and every now and then, you would suck at the tip gingerly, kiss the veins around his rock hard dick, roam with your tongue, and test the waters and massage his balls. Soft groans escape past his lips, hips arching off the couch.

“Shit— baby, fuck,” 

You hum, pleased with that. Your tongue teases the underside of his cock with every downstroke, just to hear him swear. You lick off the glistening juice off the head, lick around the ridge, and tighten your grip around the base, sinking your mouth up and down faster.

“God, your mouth is–aghh– Jesus fuck baby I’m gonna–” 

You slurp noisily around his cock as you try to take him deeper – and at one point you actually feel him hitting the back of your throat but you were careful enough to adjust your angle and continue to suck him up and down. Jungkook’s gasps increase in speed and pitch, and you can feel him trying to get you off him when he tries to pull your face away from his lap. 

“Baby, you gotta–” 

But you don’t even let him finish that thought when you grip his thigh with your other hand, sucking his head that gets him keening again.

“Shit, shit, shit __ I’m going to– f-fuuuck,”

Jungkook shoots his hot cum in your mouth, and you didn’t really expect it to be so… much. The first wave felt heavy, but as his thighs spasm, his dick continues to squirt some more, and you open your mouth to catch them all. 

“Fuck.” 

You pull back with a wet pop, opening your eyes to meet Jungkook’s stare. Your fingers are still around his length when you lick around your lips, noting the way his eyes darken at the sight of you in front of him like this – kneeling in between his legs and licking his cum. 

His chest heaves up and down, and he looks like he was about to say something when you suddenly slack your jaw to present your mouth to him – your mouth that’s now painted white with his cum. He watches you carefully as you close your eyes and swallow.

“Jesus.” 

“Didn’t know you were religious like that.” you say as soon as everything’s gone in your mouth, giving him a cheeky smile. It’s a bit salty, not terrible, though you kind of expected that.

When you look at Jungkook, his mouth opens and closes like fish in water. You beat him to it when you rise, crawling up on his chest to press your lips to his. 

You realize he might be one of those guys who didn't like it very much when their partners kissed them on the mouth right after giving them a blowjob – but Jungkook only slides his arm around your waist, deepening the kiss, dipping his tongue in your mouth until you’re settled on his lap again. 

“You’re a fucking dream.” Jungkook says before kissing you again. 

You giggle in his mouth, pushing him away slightly. His eyebrows knit in confusion, but he doesn't really look like he’s processing anything. 

“You know I realized something about you,” you plant a sweet kiss on the side of his lips. “You don’t cuss at all, but you do it a lot during sex.” 

Jungkook’s expression contorts into a frown, as if that was news to him. “Do I?” 

You chuckle. “Yeah.”

“I didn’t know that–” then as if cutting off his own thoughts, he dives in for a kiss again. He pulls away for a second, caressing your cheek and thumbing your jaw before staring at you. “God, you’re gorgeous. Pretty girl.” 

“Thanks.” 

“I think my brain’s broken right now. I don’t have coherent thoughts.” 

That makes you laugh. You pat his chest and notice the way Jungkook reluctantly lets you get off his lap, watching with hooded eyes as you rise to your feet. 

“Well, I’ll have to get going. It’s—” you glance at the wall clock. “almost 12.”

Jungkook takes your wrist, and you have to be very brave to not look at his lap because he still hasn’t pulled up his pants yet and his dick is still very much on display. And you weren’t really kidding about having to go because you do have an early day tomorrow. 

“Do you really have to go?” 

You pout. “I have to.” 

He sighs as if that disappointed him. “Okay… let me walk you out.” 

Jungkook – finally – pulls his pants up, brushing his fingers through his hair as he rises to his feet. He doesn’t bother putting on his shirt, though, and you don’t comment on it, figuring he’d stay inside anyway.

But when you see him slipping into his slides to follow you out, you press a hand lightly to his bare abdomen and laugh. “Hey, it’s literally, like five steps away. Go back inside.”

He pauses, brows furrowing in slight confusion before glancing down at himself. “Let me just grab my shirt, then—”

That makes you giggle. “Brain still broken?” 

“I think so…” he trails off then looks at you. “Hey, come here,” he doesn’t wait for you to do so though, just reaches for you to pull you by the waist, pressing you close to him. He leans down and gives you a slow kiss. You could actually feel air being taken away from you when he pulls away, his smile as gentle as the hand that rubs your back. “Thank you, and good night. See you tomorrow?” 

You nod, feeling your cheeks flush. 

“Okay. Night. And see you tomorrow.” 

With a small wave, you turn toward your apartment, not daring to glance back as you head to the door. But you can feel his gaze on you, watching as you slip inside. 

It felt like Jungkook wanted you to stay longer…

But the ache in between your thighs was starting to get uncomfortable, and honestly, you really needed to change your pad. 

Because the wetness there? Yeah, it definitely wasn’t just your period.

“So… is my laptop dying or…?” 

“For the third time; no, your laptop is not dying,” Jungkook gives you a playful shake of his head. “It’s just laggy because you watch a lot of porn on it and you turned off your antivirus for some reason.” 

You gasp. A dramatic one. 

You give Jungkook a scandalous look before sitting down on the couch with him, peeking over what he’s doing on your device. Frankly, you don’t like it when people touch your things – especially your gadgets – because you had a lot of private stuff in them. But thirty minutes ago, your laptop randomly shut down while you had been doing some excel spreadsheets. In a weird coincidence, Jungkook called you the same time it happened. So you told him about it, and he offered to swing by and take a look. He was a tech guy, after all… and anyway, getting it fixed at some shop would have been expensive. 

“I don’t watch porn!” you protest, glaring at him. 

Jungkook just blinks at you, looking unconvinced. Then he shrugs. “Okay.” 

“And what do you mean antivirus? I don’t even know I have one,” you mumble, placing the bowl of freshly cut watermelon on the coffee table. You fold your legs underneath you and inch closer to see what he’s actually doing. He’s been at it for a few minutes now, but all you see are lines of text and windows you can’t even pretend to understand.

“Yes, you do. And you did turn it off,” he says, gesturing at the screen. It’s full of stuff that might as well be in a foreign language. “These are malware. See this? Classic spyware script. You probably clicked on one of those fake play buttons with a hot singles ad or something.”

You give him a baleful look. He snorts.

“You’re not funny. And I watch porn on twitter like a normal person– okay sometimes maybe I do watch on shady websites but why do you even know that? And why are you interested in my porn.” 

“You watch porn on twitter?”

“Mostly, yeah.”

“Hm. Interesting,” he nods and turns to the screen again. “Well, I wanna know what you like.” 

You almost fall off the sofa. “Like you want me to give you a list of porn accounts?” 

Jungkook actually laughs at that. “What? No. I mean, I'm interested in the porn you like.” 

Oh.

“Uhm, I don’t particularly like anything,” you say, although maybe you immediately think of those videos where the woman is on the guy’s lap and he fingers her hard in front of the camera – but other than that, not really. You aren’t some freakazoid about porn. Most of the time, you were fine getting off with pure imagination. “I don’t like BDSM though, I think.” 

Jungkook nods, but his eyes are not really on you and instead focused on your laptop as he does things. “Hmm.” 

Your head snaps in his direction. “What do you mean, hmm?” 

Jungkook meets your stare. “What?” 

You study his face, narrowing your eyes. But he just looks at you in confusion, although there’s a little smile tugging at his lips. You drop it anyway, reaching for the watermelon cuts on the coffee table and start eating them as you watch whatever magic Jungkook is doing on your device.

“Anyway, I pirate a lot of movies so there’s that.” You thought that would be helpful to share. Those sites do have a lot of those pop-up ads, and you’d really rather endure that than have some big fuckass streaming corporation steal from you every month. 

“I know, I’m just teasing about the porn websites,” Jungkook chuckles when you glare at him. “I could share my streaming accounts with you. I think I have everything.” 

Your eyes light up almost instantly, but then you manage to catch yourself. 

“Uh, no, you don’t really need to do that…” 

He hums, goes back to your laptop. You don’t think about it too much when you pick up a watermelon and hover it over his mouth. Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to eat it off your finger, and you don’t  expect the way he sucks the juices off, tongue swirling around your digit while looking into your eyes. It feels like the whole moment took a minute, but in reality it was really only a few seconds, and Jungkook’s back to doing his thing on your laptop. 

Oh. 

Oh… okay. Well. 

You feel the blood rush to your cheeks as you drop your hand to your side, absentmindedly eating your watermelon bites.

Ugh. When will your period end?! Given, it’s only really day two, and you probably have two or three more days to go but ugh… 

Your thoughts are interrupted when Jungkook suddenly speaks, rising to his feet. 

“All done. I installed a better antivirus, and I logged in my streaming accounts so you don’t get malware again. Also turned off some useless background programs because you had too many running– and I recovered your excel file,” he says, and you give him a grateful smile as you take your laptop and bring it to your chest like it’s your baby. Jungkook chuckles at the sight. “I have to go to the toilet, though. Want to order in and watch something when I’m back?”

“Yeah, sure! Toilet’s over there,” you point to the far right direction of the apartment and watch Jungkook disappear into view to enter the bathroom. 

You’re hacking away on your laptop when a phone starts buzzing on the coffee table. 

Jungkook’s phone. 

You hesitate. You don’t want to knock on the bathroom door just to hand it to him, but you don’t feel right ignoring it either. 

The buzzing stops, and you feel relieved for all of one second when it suddenly starts again. 

You lean slightly over – not really reaching, just peeking – to see who it is. What if it’s work? What if it’s important? You could tell him about it when he comes back… 

The screen lights up with a name: Dad.

You gasp. Just a little.

The bathroom door creaks open behind you and you straighten up like you weren’t doing anything. Jungkook walks out, toweling his hands on his jeans.

“Oh, hey, someone's calling you.” 

He gives you a curious look before he crosses the room. You try not to watch too closely as he picks up his phone, but you see it; the way his brows knit together, the way his stance and tone shift when he looks back at you. 

“I need to take this real quick” He gestures to the phone. You nod.

He walks far enough that you can’t really make out the conversation, but when you take a peek to look at him, he looks so serious. You’ve only ever seen serious Jungkook when he was at work. 

A few seconds later, he returns – apologetic eyes, hand rubbing the back of his neck.

“Hey, I got called into work just now. I’m sorry we can’t have dinner tonight.” 

Oh, so you were right! It was a work thing. Still… you wonder why his dad was the one calling.

“No, it’s fine! It must be super important,” you say quickly. “Maybe we can have dinner tomorrow instead?” You say, smiling up at him brightly. 

Jungkook breaks into a smile. Then, out of nowhere, he steps closer and leans down to press a kiss to your lips. 

You’ve been doing a lot of that lately. Kissing, that is. Just this morning, he drove you to work and you made out before he even started the engine. Then later. After parking, his hands wandered a little too much before you swatted him off, gently reminding him that your breasts were feeling tender from your period.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Then just like that, Jungkook makes his way out of the apartment, and you don’t even know that you’ve been smiling like crazy until the black screen of your laptop catches your silly expression. 

You miss Jungkook. 

Okay— well. It’s just been two days, really. Well, more like today is day two. So it’s actually just been a full day. But there were no texts yesterday, and there were certainly no calls either. You haven’t seen him come out of his apartment, and you hate that you’re starting to worry. 

You were debating whether to send him a message or not when suddenly, your doorbell rings. You weren’t expecting any visitors, especially not today when it was still so early in the morning and you have to go to work soon! But maybe it was your landlord, complaining about something again…

You groan at that, snatching your bag from the counter, planning to head straight to work after dealing with whoever it is. You slide your shoes on, ready for that condescending landlord tone only to freeze when you open the door.

“Jungkook,” you gasp, acting like you’ve just seen a ghost. And he seems to think so as well, cocking his head to the side at the unusual greeting. “You’re here.” you blurt out. 

“Yeah, I went back to my place last night but only for awhile. We launched a system yesterday and something broke in production. QA didn’t catch it, so now we had to roll it—” as if he thought he was sparing you with some boring talk, he cuts himself off and smiles at you instead. “I had to work overtime. I’m sorry I missed dinner last night.”

“Eh, don’t worry. It’s not that serious. I know you're extra busy these days. Anyway, are you on the way to work?” Jungkook nods. “We should go together, then.” 

“I was just going to say that.” 

You step out of your apartment, and Jungkook waits for you to lock up before you both walk side by side down the stairs. You don’t know why but somehow, having seen him today and walking with him to his car where you’re gonna be riding in together to go to work was giving you a sense of contentment that you missed yesterday. Okay, so maybe this was a thing that was starting to grow on you. And maybe being with Jungkook genuinely makes you feel happy – giddy, for the most part. But it felt silly to have missed him when it was only really a day…

But you didn’t really want to dwell on that. It wasn’t Jungkook’s obligation to drive you to work everyday, and you certainly aren’t entitled to his undivided attention when you know exactly just how hectic his work schedule is. You couldn’t ask him to make time for you, even though you would like that.

“Oh!” Jungkook startles beside you when you suddenly halt. You look at him, wide-eyed. “Jungkook, it’s September first today!” 

Jungkook checks his phone, brows furrowed. “Yes…?” 

You eye him incredulously. “It’s your birthday!” 

At first, the words didn’t seem to register, but Jungkook slowly nods. “Ah yeah, it’s my birthday today.”

“Why do you sound so unexcited?” You pout. 

He chuckles, stepping closer to brush away a stray of hair you hadn’t even noticed had fallen across your face.

“Baby, it’s just another day.” 

You feeze at the word. It’s the first time he called you that outside of you two… fooling around. It slips naturally from his mouth in that situation, but hearing it in this very non-sexual context was kind of throwing you off-balance – because this moment wasn’t supposed to feel intimate. Not like that, anyway.

Looking away, you say, “Still. You should do something to celebrate. Oh! I think… oh…” your eyes widen at the thought of throwing him a mini-party tonight. Obviously, Jungkook doesn't make a big deal of his birthdays, based on his response. But you thought about baking him a cake. And cookies! He liked the cookies you made last time! And you were practicing cakes these days so maybe it’d be nice to make him a small one. You turn to him with hopeful eyes. “Are you free tonight?” 

Jungkook hesitates, but he smiles down at you. “Yeah, I’m free tonight. Why?” 

You grin. “You’ll have to come to my place to find out! Oh, it’s gonna be fun. Ugh, I wish we can invite Jimin…”   

You’re honestly proud of yourself for not breaking down when the piping tip you bought turns out to be the wrong one. The blue icing on your apron now looks like abstract art, and there’s enough sugar on your kitchen floor to summon an army of rants.

You just wanted the cake to be perfect. The cookies already were – but the cake, maybe not so much. And it was fine! It tasted fine! But the decorating sucked and at this point you just kind of wish Jungkook would look past the awkward lettering and appreciate the effort behind all these. 

You didn’t have much time. He texted you after work that he couldn’t drive you home. He had to stay late, which actually worked out because it gave you the extra time you needed to prepare. 

Although for the record, this wasn’t even a real surprise. You just made baked goods. And you cooked some food. And by cook you scratched off the chicken shop’s label and put it in the microwave to heat it up by the time you finished cleaning up your place since Jungkook was gonna be here by 11pm. 

Which is why, at 10:40, you rush to the shower.

When you’re done, you step in front of the mirror to check yourself out. You’ve rummaged through your closet and found an old lingerie you don’t remember ever putting on. You remember it as one of those “feel-good” purchases awhile ago. 

It’s nothing special, really. Just your usual black lace two-piece. The bra’s light and sheer, made of floral lace with thin straps that sat neatly on your shoulders. There are little pink bows too on them, which kind of made it cute. It didn’t offer much coverage, what with your nipples poking through the fabric – but that seemed to be the point. Meanwhile the panties are just as bold; crotchless, cut daringly open in the center, but softened by the same delicate lace. The set originally had garter straps and thigh-high stockings, but you thought that would be an overkill so you opted out of it. 

You cover it up with a casual white dress, spritzing on the La Belle perfume Jungkook always seems to like a little too much. 

There, everything’s done. Your period’s gone too, obviously, (day four, thank god) almost as if it knew not to ruin this night for you. 

When you head out of your bedroom, you pick your phone up from the kitchen counter to dial Jungkook’s phone. 

He usually answers on the first or second ring, but this time, he doesn’t. Wasn’t unusual or anything, given how busy he is… but you do frown when the ringing ends and there’s nothing that comes next but his voicemail.

Your frown deepens. You shift from one foot to the other, glancing at the clock. It’s past eleven now. Fifteen minutes past, to be exact. 

Jungkook’s not usually late to things.

You sigh, trudging to one of the chairs in the dining area where you prepared the food and cake for him. You also bought wine and lit up a candle.

You stare at your phone for a solid minute before you pick it up again, deciding to send Jungkook a text. 

You [11:16pm]: hey!! are you running late :> 

You chose to add the emoticon in the end so the text doesn’t feel too mysterious or broody or serious. Really, you aren’t mad, maybe a little upset now – but maybe Jungkook’s just in the middle of something… what was that again? Someone breaking in production, whatever that meant…

But the clock turns 11:25, and there is still no sign of Jungkook on your phone – and even more so on your door. 

You [11:25pm]: are you busy? sorry if im bothering you! 

Then on second thought, you added:

You [11:26pm]: oh no pls dont tell me you forgot.. 🙁

Maybe he did forget. You hadn’t reminded him of it when you talked earlier. Did you have to? He said he was free tonight, so you kind of assumed… 

You sigh again. 

The chicken was turning cold and so was the other food on the table. 

You pick up a cookie to nibble on it, thinking of why Jungkook would forget. Or why he wouldn’t text you back or return your call. 

At eleven thirty, you stand up from your seat, suddenly feeling so… so silly. Silly about the food. Silly about the cake. Silly about your dress. And most especially, you feel silly about the lingerie that’s hidden underneath. 

How silly. To plan all these in expectation of what… Jungkook’s company? 

But it was his birthday. And you wanted to throw him a party, thought it would mean something to him, even though it’s not that much. But you did go through a lot of trouble to put this all out… but he also didn’t ask you either. So really, you have no right to feel upset over him not making good on his promise. 

Wait, did he promise anything though? No, he didn’t. Not really. He just said he was free tonight. No promises. Maybe his schedule changed again and he needed to work overtime. 

You start putting away the food in the fridge, not even having the energy to eat something for dinner. You go back to your room, stripping yourself off and changing into some comfortable pajamas before throwing yourself on the bed. 

Still no texts.

It’s 11:42pm when it comes. 

You hate how fast your body reaches for your phone to see who it was, lighting up when you see Jungkook (Unit 446) on the caller ID, even more so when you answer it. 

“Hey, I got your texts. I’m so sorry, __—”

“It’s fine!” you nibble on your bottom lip as you try to contain your excitement. “Are you coming soon?” 

“I– no, ba—” you flinch involuntarily when you hear him cut himself off. You were so sure he was going to call you baby, but he corrected himself quickly. “You remember the thing I mentioned this morning? The rollback didn’t go as planned. I’m working overtime tonight again so I can’t really go…” 

“Oh…” 

“Did you plan something? It’s just my birthday, __. Maybe we can go somewhere tomorrow?” Jungkook chuckles on the other end of the line, and for the first time it didn’t make you feel giddy or whatever. 

You pick on the bed sheet before answering. “Uh, no. It’s not anything big, actually. I just made you some cookies. And ordered some food. But anyway I just ate dinner first because you took so long,” the lie rolls off your tongue easier than you expected. His laugh made you feel shitty. You know he didn’t mean anything by it – but it just made you feel so… so unimportant.

And suddenly, you want to downplay the whole thing. Because clearly, he thinks it’s no big deal.

“Hey, are you upset?” His tone shifts — gentler now.

“Ah, no. Sorry. I’m so tired and sleepy,” you fake a yawn and snuggle on the bed. “Maybe we can talk tomorrow when you’re here?” 

Tomorrow is now your least favorite word. You’ve heard it too many times from him lately. 

Jungkook doesn’t say anything for a few seconds.

Then you hear him sigh. 

“I’m sorry again, I swear I’ll make it up to you.” 

“No need to!” you tell him, making sure to say that as cheerfully as possible. Jungkook doesn’t need to. It’s not like you were dating or something for you to be upset over him bailing on you. “Really, it’s fine. Hey, I’m really, really sleepy now. Good night?” 

“Okay, sorry. Sleep well, __. Tomorrow, okay?” 

You hum, not sure if you believe that. Maybe tomorrow he’s going to have to do overtime again. Maybe tomorrow he won’t be here again.

Whatever. 

It wasn’t a big deal. 

You end the call, but before you can drop your phone onto the nightstand, you type out one last message.

You [11:45pm]: happy birthday! 

You didn’t get much sleep last night. Not like your body clock has ever been particularly reliable, 

This morning, you didn’t really think that much about it when you put the cake in a container and dropped it off at Jungkook’s door on your way down the stairs. You figured you could’ve eaten it, but you made it for him and anyway… it was his birthday and you still think he deserves a cake. He didn’t exactly seem like he was celebrating last night.

You took the bus to work. Nothing unusual, nothing exciting. Just another day dragging your limbs through the same monotonous rhythm. Your brain feels like it’s moving on autopilot by the time you tap your company ID at the building entrance and wait in line for the elevator. 

Slipping inside, you wedge yourself into a spare corner, arms crossed as the lift fills and empties floor by floor. Eventually, it’s just you and one other woman left. She steps out when the elevator dings, cradling her phone against her shoulder as she barks something stressed into the line.

Instinctively, you lean forward and press the hold button, stepping onto the side when you take notice of someone going in, only to realize it was Jungkook. 

It’s funny, really. Somehow, he only ever seems to appear when he’s the last person you’re ready to see. 

“Oh– good morning, Mr. Jeon,” you say, dipping your head in a polite little nod. The words sound awkward even to your own ears, stiff. You’ve never had to think about how to interact with him in the workplace.

Judging by the slight flicker on Jungkook’s face, he thinks it sounds weird too. But he recovers quickly, offering a faint smile as he steps in. 

You return his smile, just as polite, and inch a little further to the side – so far that your back nearly presses to the elevator wall, creating an unnecessary gap between you.

The silence is noticeable. Tense, but it’s civil at least. You glance at the floor numbers blinking overhead, half-hoping this ride doesn’t last long.

Then Jungkook shifts in your periphery. 

“Hey, about last night—”

The elevator dings. 

It’s your floor.

You step out quickly, almost too quickly, heart tapping a little faster than it should.

You don’t look back.

You didn’t expect to get a text from Jungkook that night. 

Jungkook (Unit 446) [9:37pm]: Do you wanna drive home together? 

You made a mental note to give him a reply but it’s thirty minutes later that you remembered about it.

You [10:11pm]: hey sorry I just got home

Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:14pm]: Okay Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:14pm]: Please come over tonight? I’m cooking 

You [10:16pm]: i'm not sure if I can You [10:17pm]: i’ll try to. I brought home some work :/

He doesn’t give a reply after that.

And maybe that – weirdly – made you irritated. He’d texted first, and he’d asked you over. You gave a soft no, not even a hard one, and he didn’t even try again? Just left it like that?

You sigh and close the lid of your laptop. For once, you hadn’t lied about being busy with work. It was just a few reports you figured you could finish now to make tomorrow lighter and easier. It was nothing really urgent. 

But you do feel sort of guilty about it.

Your door buzzes, and you have second thoughts whether or not you ordered dinner. 

When you open the door, it felt like deja vu.

“Jungkook.” you say, blinking.

“Are you still working?” He’s in his work clothes, though the sleeves of his button-up are slightly rolled now. It looks like he just got home not long ago.

You glance at the laptop on the coffee table. “No, I just finished…” 

“Okay, then I have a question,” Jungkook steps inside, and you unconsciously take a step back at that, looking at him curiously. He watches you carefully. “Are we okay?”

Caught off guard, you stammer when you say, “I– yeah! Sure, why wouldn’t we be?” 

He doesn’t say anything for a beat, then, “You seemed a little off this morning. I thought maybe it was about last night.” 

You try to wave it off, suddenly nervous about Jungkook being so straight-forward. Usually, men were so emotionally stunted as you are and never faced their problems head-on.

“No, I mean, it’s fine. You were probably so busy. It wasn’t a big deal.” 

“But it did kind of matter.” 

You exhale, shifting uncomfortably. “Okay, maybe I was a little upset. But it’s not like I’m mad mad.” 

“I figured,” Jungkook says, voice soft. “And I get it if you don’t want to hang out tonight, but I still wanted to try. I know I’ve flaked twice now, but I meant what I said, about making it up to you.” 

You shift your weight from one foot to the other. “With food?”

He smiles faintly. “With food. Amongst other things.” 

That earns a chuckle from you. You’re not over it – unfortunately – but something about the way he’s standing there, almost cautious, makes it hard to keep your walls all the way up. 

“So,” he asks gently. “Will you come?”

Taking a deep breath, you unintentionally look down at your socks. 

“Only if there’s wine…” you say softly. 

Jungkook’s smile spreads. “There’s wine.” 

You sigh and start toeing your slippers off. “If it’s terrible, I’m leaving in five minutes.” 

“I can live with that.” 

Inside Jungkook’s place, the lights are unusually dim, the apartment warm with the scent of garlic and something buttery. A jazz record plays at the far corner, and you only noticed then that Jungkook owned a vinyl player – which you kind of didn’t expect – you sort of pegged him as the type to not have time to listen to music. 

Meanwhile, he goes straight to the kitchen counter, where you watch him by the stove, plating food like a professional. You realized he had been cooking, and that’s why his tie was a little loose and his hair kind of a muss. 

You don’t really know what to say, so you try to break the silence with, “Uhm, wow.” 

Jungkook glances at you, mouth lifting at the corner. “I try sometimes.” 

The obvious faux humility makes you laugh. You know exactly that he knows you’re impressed by the whole thing. 

And you haven’t even eaten his food yet.

Walking in slowly to the dining area, your eyes skim over the table where there are real wine glasses, cloth napkins, and a lit candle.

“So what’s the occasion?” You ask, sitting on the chair, watching Jungkook as he heads towards your direction, bringing in the food he was preparing. You smile up at him. “Guilt?” 

He chuckles under his breath, and you’re almost glad that the joke lands.

“Maybe. Also I figured you deserve a proper dinner, made by me. Since someone went out of their way to make me one.”

You hum. “Can’t believe you stood me up on your own birthday.” 

He brings the plates over and sits across from you. “I cooked,” he says. “Try it before you decide if I’m forgiven.” 

You eye the food, a little surprise at how he mustered up a risotto with seared scallops, and of course perfectly plated. Like he’s just so good at everything he does… wait, did Jungkook go to culinary school? You’re starting to think that.

“You know how to make risotto?” 

“I know how to do a lot of things,” he meets her gaze.

Yeah, you know that was a hundred percent true…

You take a bite, careful not to let any expression slip while Jungkook watches closely, not really digging in on his own plate.

And as expected, the risotto’s annoyingly good. You didn’t doubt it from Jungkook, though. Being good at cooking was just one of the many qualities that made him so… so whatever. 

“Okay, fine. I’m mildly impressed,” you comment, sipping on the wine to hide the small smile tugging at your mouth. Your very expression contradicts your words, and you know Jungkook can see through you.

He leans back in his chair, obviously satisfied. “Mildly?”

“You still missed your birthday dinner. That knocks off some points.”

He gives you a small smile. “I really didn’t expect it to be a birthday dinner, baby.” 

You shrug off the nickname by having more bites of the risotto. You wonder if Jungkook was being deliberate when he said that, or if it was just going to be a thing between you now. 

“You didn’t ask… and well, I was going to surprise you.” Now you pout at the memories of last night again. “There was chicken.” 

Jungkook looks at you in surprise. “You cooked?”

You eye him. “Yeah, I scratched the tapes off the takeout boxes and put it in the microwave.” Jungkook laughs, the crinkles on the sides of his eyes showing. It makes you smile to see him like that. “Well,” you say eventually, “you’ve redeemed yourself a little.” 

Jungkook leans in again, riding along, “Only a little?” 

“We’ll see if there’s dessert.” 

Jungkook smirks, and you both continue to eat. 

After awhile, he glances at you. “You’re not mad,” he says, as if treading softly. “But… you were disappointed, right?” 

You shake your head. “No. I just—” You see Jungkook raising a brow. “I just thought it’d be nice. I don’t want to make a big deal about it, it was your birthday! Now I feel bad ‘cause it’s like I’m making this all about me.” you chuckle at the realization.

You look at Jungkook when you realize he’s not really laughing with you. 

You flinch a little when his hand reaches out to yours. His thumb caresses your knuckles as he tells you softly, “Hey, I know it would’ve been nice. I’m really sorry I missed it.” 

“It’s fine…” it’s a good thing Jungkook lets go immediately.

But you find yourself wanting to share with him that you baked him a cake too. About the lingerie… but that felt stupid now. Wait, did he even get the cake you left at his porch this morning? 

As if he read your mind, Jungkook suddenly rises up from his chair.

“Wait a second,” he walks past you, disappearing into the kitchen. He opens the fridge and comes back into view with a single slice of cake.

Your cake. The one you made for him. 

You stare. “Is that—?”

“You left it outside my door this morning,” he says, placing it on the table. You blink up at him, mouth slightly open. “I thought I’d save it, you know? In case you ever stopped pretending you didn’t care.” 

It felt a little pointed, but with the smile on his face you’re not really sure. 

“You really don’t play fair.” 

“Not trying to.” he says simply with a small smile before sitting again. 

“So. Is this your apology routine? Fancy dinner, smooth jazz, and then hoping I forget you bailed?” 

He smiles into his own glass of wine. “If I wanted you to forget, I wouldn’t have brought out the cake.”

You raise a brow. “You brought that out to make a point.” 

“I did.”

“You’re kind of smug about it.”

“I’m good at making points,” he says, “Especially when someone keeps insisting nothing’s wrong.” 

You frown, somehow not really liking the confirmation that he does think you’re making a big deal about this. 

“I said I was fine.” 

“You keep saying that,” his voice is quieter now, but a little edged. “But you’ve been smiling like it’s your job since you got here. And I know it’s not real.” 

You recoil at that, not expecting to be called out. The sudden shift of the atmosphere is palpable as you lean back on the couch. 

“What do you want me to say?” you let out a humorless chuckle. “That I was upset? You hurt my feelings?” 

Jungkook’s expression changes, but his voice doesn’t falter. “I wanna know how you feel.” 

You look away. “Do you want me to admit that maybe I cared more than I should?” 

“I didn’t say that.” 

“But you mean it.”

He leans forward, "I mean,” he starts, “that it wasn’t nothing. You made me dinner. You planned something for me. That’s not small. And I want you to know that I want to apologize when I make these mistakes.” 

You don’t really think it through when you say, “It’s not like we’re together, Jungkook.” 

That makes him pause. You can’t find it in you to take it back, because… it was true, right? The whole thing felt like… like you were a couple in a fight. And you aren’t.

“Still not an excuse.” he says after awhile. 

You let out a breath, almost a laugh, frustrated. You wish Jungkook hadn’t brought it up, and you wish you aren’t reacting the way you are right now.

“You know, you didn’t seem bothered about it when we talked on the phone.” 

“Because I thought you were okay.”

“Well, surprise,” you flash him a tight smile. “Turns out I’m not as chill as I thought.” 

His voice lowers. “I never thought you were chill.” You can’t help but glance at him sharply. “I thought you were trying really hard to seem like you didn’t care, because maybe you thought I might not care back.”

That lands harder than it should, and you feel your throat tighten.

“I should go,” you stand up, not wanting to have any more of this conversation. You wish Jungkook would just drop it. You told him, you were upset – but he’s making a big deal about it. 

Jungkook stands up too, stepping closer to you. His height looms over you, but his presence feels calm and collected. 

“You could,” he says in that deep voice. “But you won’t.” 

You take in a sharp breath when he presses until you can feel the heat of his body. You’re confused about the sudden turn of events, but there’s something about Jungkook right now, his voice dropping low, his gaze… almost as if…

“Oh?” you decide to challenge him, not wanting to waver.

“You stayed. And now you’re standing this close,” he says, gaze dropping to your mouth. “Looking like you want me to make you forget why you were upset in the first place.” 

You swallow, suddenly feeling heated in that other way. 

“A-and if I do?” 

One hand brushes past your hip, and you stand there grounded, unconsciously holding your breath. 

“Then you let me.” 

You kiss him first – not really sure why and how it happened – but you do, on instinct. Wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your lips to his. It’s fast, and there’s frustration from you bubbling under, heat blooming behind your ribs like a fuse finally lit. 

Jungkook kisses you back harder though, catching you on time – always catching you on time – walking you backwards into the living room where he lays you down on the couch, hovering over you.

His voice is rough against your skin when he breaks away to whisper, “Are you still upset?” 

Your hands grip his shirt. “I would be if you don’t continue kissing me.” 

That makes him smile, murmuring, “You’re a brat.” 

“Do you like it?” 

He inhales a sharp breath against your jaw, nipping. “I really do.” 

In an instant, his hands were around your waist, your back pressed against the back of the sofa. Your breath hitches when his mouth drops to your ear, making your knees weaken slightly.

“Do you– do you kiss everyone you disappoint like this?” you mutter, hands sliding under his shirt where you feel his abs clench.

“No,” he says, lips peppering kisses down your neck, voice low. It sends shivers down your spine and makes your thighs clench together. “Just the ones who microwave chicken for me.”

It earns a chuckle from you – sharp, breathless – and tug the collar of his shirt, starting to undo his buttons until sculpted chest is revealed. You’re about to pull the material off him when Jungkook catches your wrist.

“Still upset?” he asks.

You click your tongue. “Maybe.” 

He grins. “Good.” 

He kisses you again. Slow this time, like he knows you’d let him now. And you do. Your fingers dig into his shoulder as he deepens it, tongue brushing yours in a way that makes your head fog over. He tastes like wine and smugness… but you find you like it. Jungkook moves in such a way that screams he knows exactly what he’s doing. 

His shirt is off in a second, leaving him in his slacks and belt, mouth moving lower over your throat, your collarbone, until they reach your cleavage made easily accessible with the neckline of your camisole. You arch into the touch without much thinking, and when Jungkook whispers against the peak of your nipple if he could take your shirt off, you nod. 

“Sorry, this isn’t my proudest bra ever,” you tell him, fingers slipping through his hair. 

Jungkook chuckles. “I’m gonna take it off, anyway.” 

He lifts you up effortlessly, squeezing your ass as you yelp but helping you wrap your legs around his waist. Before you can say anything, he shuts up with a searing hot kiss, and you let him carry you to the bedroom with ginger steps, like he’d done it a hundred times before in his head. God, you hope he did just like you do. 

You don’t know how exactly it happened but your bra is off the moment he lowers you down on the bed, tugging the cups off your chest and letting his hand take reign on one boob while he licks the other one with his hot tongue, swirling it around your nipple that makes you gasp and shift on the bed. 

“Oh, Jungkook…”

Crawling over you, you meet his heavy gaze as he asks, “Are you sure about this?” 

If the heat in between your thighs is any more indication of how sure you are, he can check. But you tug him down by the waistband of his slacks to tell him, “I’ve been sure.” 

“Just checking, because once we start…” he murmurs, gaze dropping on your lips. As if he can’t help it, he closes his mouth around yours. Then his hand slides down, feathery touch causing goosebumps all over your skin. It stops on your inner thigh where you take a sharp breath because he was so close to where you wanted him to be. 

“I want you now,” you say, a bit irritated. 

He chuckles, dark. Low. He retracts his hand and smirks when you give him a glare. 

“I wanna take my time with you, sweetheart. Don’t rush me.” 

To prove his point, he kisses you again – hot and passionate, but also aguishly slow like he’s savoring every brush of your tongue and he has all the time in the world for it. 

You’re flushed beneath him, breathless as his hands wander all over your body. He nips the skin of your neck, obviously teasing, leaving goosebumps on his trail. When his hand cups the heat in between your legs, your hips unconsciously buck, your grip on his shoulders tightening at the contact. 

“I should’ve come to dinner,” he murmurs, kissing the corner of your mouth. 

“Y-yeah,” you manage, “you should’ve.” 

“I can’t believe I missed this yesterday.”

You gasp when his thumb presses on your mound, feeling like you’ve been electrocuted by the touch. Jungkook seems to take note of your oversensitivity, as he watches you with your mouth hanging slightly open.  

“Don’t worry, baby. I plan to make it up to you real good,” he leans back for a second to tug the waistband of your pants, and you don’t hesitate to lift yourself up a little to help him slide it off your legs together with your panties. You bite your bottom lip as you observe him watching the way the material clings to your pussy at the slickness. A smirk tugs at his lips. “I guess I’ve made you wait too long, didn’t I?” 

Your reply dissolves into a sharp inhale as he puts two of his fingers in his mouth and wedges them in between your folds, leaning down to plant a kiss on your parted mouth. His fingers move inside you, curling in slow rhythm, his thumb teasing just enough to keep your hips lifting off the bed.

“You’re so soaked, and I haven’t even touched you properly yet,” he slowly slides them out, smirking when you whimper at the loss of contact. He inserts them again, this time taking on a steady pace. His fingers make you feel so full, just like they did back at the motel – and you wouldn’t dare lie to yourself and say you haven’t been looking forward to this again. By the way you can’t keep the soft moans escaping past your lips, Jungkook must’ve known too. 

Slick sounds bounce off the wall, and you try to keep it to a minimum by minimizing your moans and pressing the back of your hand to your mouth but Jungkook catches your wrist quickly, as if he knew what you were about to do.

“No, baby, let me hear you,” he says, pinning your hand up against the headboard. “I want to know how much you want this, how much you like my fingers fitting right in your pussy,” he looks down, then unexpectedly, he brings his soaked digits up to your face. Your cheeks flush in embarrassment when you see how wet they are with your juices, whimpering when he inserts them in his mouth with no second thoughts, licking them obscenely. You whimper when he shuts his eyes close, looking intoxicated. 

“Shit,” he hisses, “Tastes just as good as I remember it.” 

“J-jungkook,” you whine, wanting him to do something already. 

“I know,” he smirks, a little smug. “Should I go faster? Is that what you like?” 

“Please…” you cry out, holding on to his wrist.

He chuckles darkly and just as when you were about to say something else again, he curls the same fingers in you, but this time he plunges them in and out at a faster pace. At that, you don’t hold back the moans you’ve been keeping trapped in your throat. 

Legs tensing, Jungkook continues to fuck you with his fingers, moving like an expert; determined to make you fall apart – and you’re nothing but soft cries, heated, fingers tightening around his wrist as your orgasm creeps up your toes to your spine. 

“F-fuck…” you sigh when Jungkook dives in your chest again, nipping and sucking at the flesh you were sure he was going to leave marks. “Feels so good, Koo…” 

He hums against your skin, curling his fingers and digging in deep that your thighs shake uncontrollably. But Jungkook’s hold on your hip is firm, not enough to hurt, but enough to keep you from thrashing underneath him at the overwhelming pleasure. 

“Yeah? You’re making such a mess on my hand, baby,” he husks out.

“S-sorry.”

He chuckles. “You’re beautiful,” He breaks away from your tits to stare at you. Moving away some of the hair that has gotten on your face, he says, “Are you close?” 

“Yes, god, yes. Please, I’m so close…” 

You can feel yourself about to reach your climax, so you move your hand to seek relief to your clit. But Jungkook catches you off-guard when he moves further down your body. You let out a lewd moan when he licks along your slit, sucking in your folds – your juices making a wet, spongy sound as he slurps. When he closes his mouth around your clit, you cry out and grab his hair quite harshly. 

But Jungkook only hums against your pussy, the vibration only making you drip more. He ravishes your nub with his tongue, quick and steady, and so are his fingers in and out of your pussy. 

“Oh my god,” you moan, body convulsing at your impending orgasm, shutting your eyes close and focusing on the way his tongue tugs at your clit. “Kook, I’m coming, fuck, I’m gonna cum—” 

He pulls off with a smack only to tell you “in my mouth” before going back to business again. You listen to his small grunts, his hums, and until then, you feel your body spasming when the coil at your stomach breaks.  

Jungkook puts his hand on your lower stomach, pressing you down as you wriggle underneath him, thighs shaking at your orgasm. He licks until you’re pulling his head out of your mound. He takes his fingers out of your spongy walls, spreading your wetness instead around your folds, as if calming you down from your high.

“Good, baby, good…” he murmurs, gripping your thighs to steady you. Then he leans down and presses kisses over them.

You let your back relax on the mattress, shutting your eyes close and catching your breath.

You hear a drawer pull open, and when you finally open your eyes, you see Jungkook with a condom pinched in between his fingers.

“I’m not done with you yet,” Jungkook skates his fingers through his hair, and you suddenly got the urge to jump him right then and there when you saw the sheer wetness on his jaw, his sculpted chest and the abdominal muscles that sit perfectly on his stomach, his tattoo sleeve – he looked like an absolute dream then, but you knew you were in for a ride when your eyes cast a look at the erection inside his slacks. Jungkook makes quick work of unbuckling his leather belt, and the way the metal clink with each other scratches a part of your brain that screams want, want, want and maybe Jungkook caught on, because he follows your gaze to the belt, clicking his tongue when he throws the leather away somewhere on the floor.

“Next time, sweet girl,” he says, sounding like he meant it. You can feel your cheeks heating under his gaze and the implication of his words, chest pounding as he unbuttons and unzips his pants together with his boxers. 

“I…” You watch in quiet fascination when his rock hard dick slaps against his lower abdomen, biting your lip at the sight. It was just as long and girthy as you remember it.

He hums. “You want to play next time, we’ll do that. But eyes up here first,” Jungkook instructs, and you do look at him when he says so, feeling your legs clamping together at his slightly commanding tone. He tugs your legs to pull you closer to the edge of the bed, and so you lift off the mattress slightly and rest your elbows against the soft sheets. Jungkook smiles at you as he kneels between your spread legs, “You look beautiful like this, baby. Do you know how much I’ve been wanting to do this?” he asks as he rips open the condom, pinching the tip and putting it over his cock in quick succession. 

“I’ve been waiting for you…” you say, not really sure what you mean, touching his chest because you can. He’s so warm and so big, and your pussy aches at the thought of him finally entering you.

It felt greedy, to want to cum again when you just did not even a full minute ago.

“I know,” he strokes his cock for good measure, and you let out a soft gasp when he hikes your leg over his hip, nudging your other leg to the side. He inserts a finger in your pussy, hissing at your wetness. “Fuck, you are soaked, baby…” 

“Put it in,” You whine, chest heaving up and down as you watch Jungkook with half-lidded eyes. His hand wraps around his dick, strokes it for a moment before gripping near the tip and bringing it closer to your aching heat. 

You moan when the first inch of his cock goes in, mouth gaping at the intrusion. Jungkook’s eyebrows knit as he adjusts your leg higher on his hip, pushing deeper. 

“Look at me,” he instructs, “You can take it, right, baby? You’re so wet, so pretty…” 

“I– yes, yes– shit,” you let out a shaky breath, “you’re s-so big, fuck,”

“You’re taking it so well,” he murmurs, voice low and dripping with honey. He gives a gentle, almost subtle thrust that almost knocks you out of the bed.

“Yes, yes, fuck… give it to me, Kook, I want you so bad…”

“Yeah? I’m gonna move in a sec, angel, play with your tits for me.”

You nod your head and do as told, letting your hands wander all over your body before fondling your breasts, moaning instantly at the pleasure. 

“Tell me if it hurts,” is what he says before he slips an arm beneath your waist, holding you up, a shudder escaping past his lips when he slowly pushes more past your tight walls. You choke out a moan, a broken sob coming out of it when he finally bottoms out inside of you.

“Ah…” 

He hisses, fingers digging at your waist as he withdraws from your heat and only the tip of his cock is in you, the scene with it sitting on your soaked pussy enough to send him into an overdrive. 

“You’re so fucking tight holy fuck,” he seethes, forcefully snapping his hips back into you and finally picking up a pace that makes you whimper and cry out pathetic little moans, mind becoming fuzzy at the thrusts of his cock in your entrance. 

Your walls clench at the glide of his cock against you, feeling him falter at the little stunt. But you can’t help it. Your body is on fire as Jungkook lets out a guttural groan, pulling you flush against his cock until the thin hairs around the base of his dick are tickling your skin. Your elbow shake as it loses balance, but Jungkook is quick to catch you just on time, leaning down to hover over your body, but it only makes the angle of his fuck deeper, and maybe he meant to do that too. 

Your hands are quick to wrap around his shoulders as you feel the tip of his cock prodding against your cervix like he’s going all out, your hips jumping as he rams back inside. 

He repeats the movement like a graceful dancer, thrusts deep and purposeful, pulling out wailing sounds from you you begin to worry if the neighbors could hear. He tucks his head against your neck and presses a kiss on the junction between your neck and shoulder, rocking his hips into you, pistoning into your squelching heat. His body is so close, so warm, sweaty skin gliding against yours.

“Fuck, fucking hell, baby – fuck, you feel so good,” Jungkook growls, finding your mouth and kissing you again. His hips snaps back into you once again, and you both swallow each other’s moans at the contact, letting your bodies rock to the sound of your fucking. His hand is on your chest immediately, squeezing everywhere until it settles on pinching your nipple between his fingers. 

“Jungkook– ah, baby— fuckkkkk,” You shudder, feeling your pussy quiver at every snap and every withdrawal, and when he brings his hand to your clit and rubs it in quick circles, you screw your eyes shut, feeling that familiar wave again for the second time that night. 

“Jungkook–” 

“You’re gonna be a good girl and come for me, sweet girl?” Jungkook rasps out, sweaty forehead coming into view as he jackhammers into your pussy with ease, welcomed by your never-ending slick. You never thought you’d see Jungkook like that, fucking like a crazed caveman, looking like he can’t get enough but also straining himself a bit to not hurt you – because of course he wouldn’t. 

“Fuck me harder, Kook, I need it– need you to… need you to—”

“Yeah?” he rocks harder, faster just like you said, and you can honestly start to feel the slight pain on your chest as they bounce at the speed, your hand flying to grab at your chest. 

“I’m so close,” you cry out, unconsciously reaching for him and feeling like you’re on edge. Jungkook takes your hand and encloses it around his, thrusting into you once again before whispering against your skin to let go. 

As if that was a magic phrase, you feel something inside you snap. 

“Good girl, I knew you’d come for me, you always do,” Jungkook slurs. You could feel your cum dribbling out of your pussy, creaming his cock, but Jungkook continues ramming himself past your clenched lips and into your spasming hole, grunting against your skin, mouth leaving random, open-mouthed kisses. 

He drills on, and his cock still feels so achingly hard, seemingly not anywhere near completion yet. You’re nearly mush beneath him from your current release, but you push through it as you press your hands to his chest, forceful enough to send him tumbling a little. He’s caught off-guard by that, and you take that to your advantage as you maneuver yourself to push him completely on his back, his cock sliding out of you. 

He bounces off the mattress a little, looking at you curiously as you straddle his waist. Your sensitive pussy shudders at the cold of the AC in his room, and you feel like your bones have been liquefied, but you don’t let that deter you from taking ahold of his still, indeed, hard cock and sitting on it. 

Jungkook inhales a sharp breath as he watches you bounce on his cock, the head disappearing and appearing in your entrance, like a show he would want to replay over and over again. And you’re determined, stretching your body and leaning back to rest your palms on his thighs for support as you take his dick, switching to a back and forth motion.

“Oh, Jungkook, god – oh my god,” and although it was supposed to be for him – for him to cum – you can honestly feel yourself about to snap again, especially when Jungkook reaches forward to rub your tit, caressing your tattoo underneath with that hungry look in his eyes, and settling on your hips like he’s enjoying the little show you’re putting up for him. 

“That’s it baby, bounce on my cock – you’re doing so we…ll,” he encourages, but there’s a slight break to his tone at the end. “Shit, keep going – fuck. I’m so fucking close– you look so good,” 

You swallow the saliva trapped in your throat to pick up your pace, feeling lightheaded at the overwhelming feeling of his cock prodding against your cervix everytime you go forth. His dick brushes past your clit everytime you move, and you throw your head back when you feel him starting to thrust upward. 

“Are you close again, baby?” Jungkook asks, gripping your hips tight as he meets your ministration. You bite your lip at the question, only whimpering when Jungkook bucks his hips harshly. “Cum for me a third time, pretty girl. Cum with me.” 

“Jungkook, I can’t, I’m so sensitive. I–”

“You can, angel. And you will.”

You mewl when Jungkook reaches for your pussy with his other hand, quickly finding your clit to rub against it again, and that pushes you to the edge quickly – orgasm snapping on an instant just like that. 

Jungkook’s hips stutter, breath caught in between a curse and your name, like the sound of you undid him completely. It was a sound that you heard three days ago when he came in your mouth.

“Fucking hell,” he hisses, hips faltering at his orgasm. “Shit…” 

You drop your body unceremoniously onto him, the exhaustion hitting you all at once.

Wrapping his hands around your body very gently, you feel Jungkook kissing the side of your head, making you shut your eyes close. 

“Jesus.” you blurt out, whole body spent.

“Didn’t know you were religious like that…” He says with a chuckle, caressing your hair mindlessly.

You snap your head quickly to look at him at the familiar words, narrowing your eyes. Jungkook only presses a kiss to your shoulder as if that was some sort of apology, and you let it go with a playful shake of your head.

“Do you still feel bad about missing dinner?” You ask with a smile on your face. 

He let out a low laugh, and the vibration through his chest feels warm against your skin. 

“I’m working on making it up to you.” 

“Does it really involve making me cum three times in a single night?” you arch your brow. “I think you’re overcompensating.” 

Jungkoo gives you a nonchalant shrug. “Maybe.”

And before you can say anything, he flips you over and kisses you again, which makes you giggle into his mouth.  

all right reserved © awrkive, 2025. no reposts, modification, translations, and copying allowed. if you enjoy my work/s and have the extra means, please consider supporting me on ko-fi <3

[i-like-loserz]

breedable

pairing: husband!san x reader

cw: explicit (18+), raging breeding-kink, unprotected sex (no condom, yes other contraceptives), needy/whiny!san, cuteness/sexiness aggression (^^look AT THOSE ADORABLE PICS), not dub-con because you're not actually forcing san to have a child - its just a fantasy and san respects the responsible day dreaming -- oh, and this is NOT beta-read.

wc: 1.6k

note: reverse breeding kink turns my mind into a slushie

masterlist

---

you have a special type of aggression when it comes to your husband.

while there's the usual cuteness aggression that makes you want to pinch his cheeks and tickle him until he's a giggling mess -- or the alternative "awe-infused-aggression," that makes you want to crawl all over him and worship his body (because he's built like a god) -- but this special aggression is a mix of the two.

you call it the "i-need-to-pass-on-his-genes-with-mine" or the breeding-aggression. you see his perfect, docile face -- the cute way his brows scrunch together whenever he's feeling too much, the way his chiseled abs clench as he holds himself back -- and it sets a fire in your horny soul.

typically, when one describes a breeding kink, it involves someone wanting to impregnate the other person in an act of love and possession. of course, the other person is wholeheartedly egging them on because they, too, want to carry their baby.

in this case, however, you work hard to fuck him to get you pregnant.

you may wonder, "is that not exactly the same thing as a normal breeding kink?," which will be responded with a, "no, because san is a smart boy and he doesn't want a child at the moment -- that is, not until you're both done achieving your dreams and settled into a family-friendly environment."

san is the sensible one in the relationship, while you play the role of a feral cat in heat. he always insists on a condom or some birth control while you immediately embrace your inner horny demon and cannot go a week without begging him to fill you up like a boston cream donut.

you often think he's just playing the role of the timid damsel, begging for mercy before getting thoroughly ravished because he always ends up giving in.

at first, this obsession started with an accidental and harmless mistake.

you forgot to get condoms.

neither of you realized it until you stuck your hand into the bedside drawer, only to come up empty handed.

san, the sweetheart he is, offered to run to the store to get some. but before he could leave, you pulled him back and convinced him that one time without it wouldn't hurt. you can always take the morning after pill. right?

and you thought that was that.

but once you saw the way his cute lashes fluttered as he entered you, eyes shiny from how lost he was in the pleasure -- maybe something clicked for you. maybe.

and maybe, when you felt how his body shivered, finally feeling your warmth without any barriers, and how his cock throbbed within you, you knew this would turn into an addiction.

a dangerous one.

then when he came inside, painting your walls in his warmth before pulling out to reveal his sloppy mess, your brain chemistry became altered in a way that would change the course of desires for the rest of your life.

and then, pushing his love back in so affectionately with his fingers, eyes glazed over in awe and hunger, you knew something changed within him as well -- as much as he'd deny it. he already started to get hard again from seeing how he dripped from your perfect cunt.

and so, after that fateful night, you tried to hold back, knowing that taking the morning-after pill often wasn't healthy (and, of course, you and san weren't ready for kids yet).

this didn't stop you from imagining how his cum would feel if there wasn't a barrier between you every time you fucked. or how pretty he'd be as your baby daddy, claiming you as his own as he gives you the perfect little family.

ok, and fine, maybe you 'forgot' to buy condoms a few more times after that. and maybe you made it a habit to make him cum a few times before fucking him so he'd be a little less attentive to the missing condoms just so you can feel him gushing out of you once more.

but that's neither here nor there.

...

ok, so, maybe it was here.

and there.

here, in the house -- on the couch during movie night, on the bed in the morning, on the kitchen counter when you saw him in that cute little frilly apron he borrowed from you, in the shower when he got back from the gym.

and there, outside the house -- messily in the car(s), in a tight dressing room, spontaneously in a lake, in a utility closet at his work (don't ask) -- so you had to find a sustainable solution quickly.

it finally got to the point where you made a doctor's appointment to get on birth control because you knew you wouldn't be able to hold yourself back anymore. the pull-out method wasn't going to work for long, and you knew san was struggling to deny your whiny begs to be filled.

now, you can say whatever you want and he'll be the obedient husband that he is.

---

"cum in me, sannie..." you whisper in his ear, rolling your hips and perfectly arching your back so you can press your hot body against his. "don't you want to make me a mommy?"

you admire how his cute face scrunches up as you speed up on top of him. he's flushed a pretty scarlet, from his chiseled chest to his cheeks -- a product of your merciless teasing and edging from earlier in the evening.

"b-baby," he meets your motions smoothly, eyes squeezed shut as his body struggles to bear with the sensations of your soft heat wrapped around him. "fuck, i-i'm..."

"...you're...?" you ask, mockingly. you lightly rake your nails against the back of his neck. the action never fails to make him shiver and buck against you. you let out a short gasp as the feeling of him suddenly fully thrusting into you nearly knocks the air out of you. he's hitting that sweet sweet spot inside of you now -- and it's making you almost as delirious as the man under you.

"p-please..."

"c'mon, hubby, i wanna feel it dripping out of me," you sigh dreamily. your lips barely brush over his neck as you speak, "then you can shove it back in and make sure it keeps, right~"

"yes, yes, anything--" he mumbles, head tilted back in ecstasy. his large hands grip around your waist, guiding your body like a glorified cock sleeve, up and down his cock just right. you swear you're starting to see white spots in your vision as he continues to use your body.

you love it when he's like this. tunnel visioned and desperate to reach that explosive feeling of stuffing you full of his cum. your eyes roll back as he continues to nudge against that soft spot inside of you.

"u-uh, san..." a familiar and addictive exhilarating heat blooms from your core and proliferates through every nerve in your body before you even realize it. you bite your lip to keep you from drooling as your body starts to shake in his hold.

the shockwave of pleasure makes you clench around him, making you impossibly tight around him as he continues to thrust into you.

"fuck," he groans at the feeling of you fluttering around him. he struggles to keep up his pace as he gives into his pleasure. you can feel his abs clench against you as his hips begin to stutter to meet yours. "take it, baby. i need you to t-take it all for me."

"give it to me. i need it."

he pulls your body down and gives one last punishing snap of his hips to press himself deep inside of you as he finishes with a broken moan.

as he cums inside of you, his body trembles, overwhelmed by his orgasm, the press of your perfect body against his, the heated air surrounding the two of you, and the panted breath leaving your precious lips.

his arms wrap around you, holding you close, as he nuzzles his face against your neck, pressing soft and sweet kisses to your sticky skin.

as you both start to calm down, san lifts his face from the crook of your neck to look up at you.

"baby?" he gently brushes some hair from your face so he can get a good look at your flushed expression, "i think i'm ready." he has such a cute little smile on his face as he stares up at you with adoring eyes.

"ready?" you ask, still trying to come down from the pleasure infused fog that has settled over your mind.

"i think we should start baby-making, for real."

a silence sits in between you as you stare at him in disbelief. you weren't expecting your sensible and responsible husband to suddenly propose such a life altering idea to you.

you're suddenly pulled out from your warm post-orgasm deliriousness.

"...san. are you sure?"

he looks down at your connected bodies, at your baby-less stomach and the sticky mess that's now dripping onto his thighs. and then you feel him twitch inside of you.

oh.

"i-- yeah."

not convincing.

(at least not in the state you're in)

"yeah, no." you shake your head, fully aware of his wandering thoughts. "let's talk about this when we're fully clothed, okay."

who knew you'd be promoted to be the sensible one?

[nanamisgirly]

nanami never liked staying at work late, but lately, he liked it even less—not because of the hours, but because of her words that still echoed in his head. “come home not too late, papa…and safe. please?”

so by 6:37pm, his keys clicked in the door, his tie already half-loosened and shoulder relaxing. the house was glowing in soft golden lights, the faint scent of dinner and lavender filling the air. he could hear little giggles and your voice, soft and lilting.

“papaaaa!!” came a screech. a flash of pink brust around the corner—the smaller of the twins, your daughter, rocketed toward him like a missile of love, her curls bouncing with every step. nanami dropped to one knee just in time, catching her in strong arms.

“you're late” she accused, nose scrunching.

“only by seven minutes, princess.” 

“still late,” she buries her face in the crook of his neck, pretending to pout—arms wrapping around him in a tight clingy hug.

“then i guess i have to make it up to you.” he smooths her wild hair with one hand, the other steadying her back. “where's mum?”

“she's in our room,” she mumbled into his shirt. “getting our clothes for bath time.” 

nanami kissed the top of her head before standing up with her still clinging to him like a sleepy koala. “let's go, then.”

he peeked into the twin's room to find you kneeling by the dresser, laying out a tiny pair of pajamas with sleepy clouds printed on them. your back was turned, humming softly, and when you heard the shuffle behind you-

“you made it.”

“right on time,” he murmured a soft smile perking his lips as he let your daughter slide down to the carpet. she immediately started trying to pick out different socks than the ones you laid out. “let me help.”

soon, it became the usual dance—familiar, wordless teamwork. 

nanami filled the tub, rolling his sleeves as he tested the water. your twins were surrounded by bath toys. your daughter kept shrieking over shampoo in her eyes even when it wasn't. meanwhile, your son, sat like a tiny monk at the other end of the tub, back straight, reading the back of the conditioner bottle as if studying. his fine blonde hair was slicked to his forehead, and he blinked up seriously at his dad.

“did you know this coconut oil has vitamin E?”

nanami nodded gravely. “sounds powerful.”

“i think it is.” he replies just as gravely, tiny brows furrowing.

it took an hour to get them all clean, between plays and rubbing their bodies—watering your clothes and nanami ones. their cheeks were pink, their blonde lashes wet and clumped, and when they looked at the two of you, the way their eyes lit up—one pair looking exactly like yours, the other exactly like nanami—you swear you fall in love all over again.

you wrapped both of them in towels shaped like animals—a fox for your daughter, a bear for your son—and carried one under each arm like squishy luggage to the bedroom.

and it was friday!! one of the two nights your kids are allowed to sleep in your king-sized bed. your daughter immediately jumped face-first onto the mattress, laughing as she crawled to her usual corner. nanami followed close behind, fingers ready to tickle her sides.

“noooo someone help—!”

“i'll save you!” your son said suddenly, serious as ever. he climbed up behind nanami with quiet determination, arms circling his dad's head like a little warrior. grip firm—but far too small to make any real difference against the solid strength of his father.

still, nanami plays along, “a surprise attack!”

your daughter squealed in delight, wiggling away as nanami collapsed into the pillows, groaning in fake defeat. “too strong…i've been defeated by my own children,” he said, his voice muffled into the pillows.

“you're not allowed to hurt my sister,” your son declared calmly, sitting up proudly on nanami's back like a victorious knight. “she's a princess.” your daughter blinked up at him from her spot “…i'm not that much of a princess,” she mumbled—but the tiny dimples pulling at her cheeks gave her away.

you stood in the doorway, freshly out of the shower, hair damp and arms folded as you leaned on the frame—heart so full it ached a little.. 

“alright, heroes," you called, "time to settle.” nanami propped himself up on his elbows, glancing at you. his blonde hair was messy, cheeks faintly pink from the wrestling, and yet his eyes locked onto yours with that look—that look, he only ever gave to you. glaring, yes, but full of quiet love, admiration, and maybe just a little longing.

“ewww…papa, stop that. .” your daughter said, catching the shift in his gaze. nanami chuckled at the comment, dimples peeking on his cheeks—the exact same one of your daughter. “sorry, princess. i forgot i'm not allowed to look at my wife.”

you laughed under your breath, crossing the room and climbing into the bed, slipping under the covers beside nanami. he instinctively shifted closer, and your son already pressed against your other side.

nanami's arm rested across your waist lazily, the little twins curled up in their usual places. and for a few quiet minutes, the room was filled only with soft breathing and the rustle of pages from a bedtime book your son was reading—or pretending. he just wanted to copy his dad but will never admit it

then, with a soft sigh, nanami turned his face toward you, leaning in closer, eyes half-lidded. “mmh. just a moment,” he murmured, his voice low and sleepy, as he tried to lay his head on your chest. but before he could settle a tiny hand pushed against his forehead.

firm. determined. 

nanami froze. your son, eyes still on his book, said calmly, “no.”

“no?” 

“she's my mum,” your son added, now turning his head to look his father straight in the eye—honeyed eyes meeting honeyed eyes, right above your chest. without looking away, he placed his second hand beside the first and pushed, gently but decisively.

you couldn't help it—you burst out laughing, hand covering your mouth as nanami stared at your son like he'd just been betrayed by his own blood. nanami sighed, defeated again. he chose to rest his head on your shoulder instead, arm still wrapped around your waist—as close as your tiny bodyguard would allow.

and somewhere behind him, your daughter giggled sleepily. “poor papa.” 

the night softened into warmth—the kind of warmth that fills every corner of your body and slows time. little limbs tangled with yours, three gentle rhythms of breath all around you. your heart impossibly full.

this… this was home. for both of you. 

[mwphisto]

LaDs: their night routine

~ bouncing off the sleep post, here’s my personal head canons on what their nightly routines look like before bed

Xavier

Starts his night routine the moment he gets home from work. Otherwise, he’d prob fall asleep instantly and feel nasty when he gets up.

He is stripping the second his foot hits the bathroom tile. Uniform in the hamper, water on scorching, the bathroom is filled with steam before he’s fully undressed and ready to go

Not guilty of using 3-1s but he does use the cheapest shampoo and conditioner imaginable. The kind you’d find at the grocery store that you know if you used it would totally dry out your hair. For him? It makes it incredibly soft and smells so damn nice (like vanilla)

He's the type to literally wash his face with dish soap and still have the softest, most flawless skin you've ever seen. He's settled for a soft face cloth and warm water post shower and then a moisturizer you bought him.

He'll towel dry and then blow dry his hair, brush it out, and then start brushing his teeth. His eyes are nearly closed at that point.

Zayne

His night routine depends on where he is and what he is doing. For example, if he's working overnight or even a twenty four hour shift? The most he's doing is showering before passing out.

If he's just finished a day shift, he's going to take a little more time with his night routine but the exhaustion still wears him down.

He's very much guilty of using a 2-1 just for the convenience of it. Mostly used when he is at the hospital just to save a little time. Somehow still looks good after using it (ugh, men.) At home, he's very much taken note of all the things you recommended for him - often asks for your help too hehe.

Uses nice shampoo and conditioner at home, not super high end but not something you can find at the convenient store. Smells like pears and jasmine and it's so soft, you could sniff his hair for hours.

He'll use a gentle face wash - your recommendation - brush his teeth (floss and mouthwash since you keep calling him out about his frequent dentist trips), and blow dry his hair before heading to bed for the night.

Rafayel

He takes his night routine very seriously. Typically starting it with a nice hot shower to get all the day's work off of him. Then, he follows it with long soak in the tub (legit like 2-4 hours). He'll sketch and sing and call you while he relaxes.

His shower routine consists of luxurious floral shampoo and a nice deep conditioning hair mask. His hair is naturally a bit wavy so he tries to make sure it's soft and nourished. His hair smells like cherry blossom and strawberry.

He'll let it air dry and then cringe when it poofs up, then he'll go in with leave in conditioner and some scalp serums before blow drying it.

His skin is literally flawless, so he uses a very gentle cleanser, a nice milky toner, a rich moisturizer, and lastly lip balm. But he brushes his teeth before the lip balm portion (which is flossing, brushing, and then mouth wash)

Sylus

He takes his time with his night routine if you're with him in the N109 Zone. Spa night of sorts. if your not with him? His routine is short yet efficient.

Shampoo, conditioner, and body wash are all per your recommendations. But he's very guilty of using the shampoo, conditioner, and fruity body wash you leave behind. Which he does with a smirk despite your complaining.

He's a shower, brush his teeth, shave if need be, and pass out in bed type of guy. But all of his products are top of the line, so like, he can put that little effort in and still look perfect (again, men.)

If you're still awake he'll video chat with you while he does his skincare (literally only does it if you're there or if he calls you) and catch up with you on your day.

He's a brush teeth and mouth wash person, he'll floss when he remembers... speaking of... do you think because he can heal himself he can just heal his cavities before they even happen?

Caleb

Night routine? He has none. I should just end this right here because oh lord help him. His night routine is enough to make anyone shiver. He wasn't that bad when he still lived with you, but on his own? Lord.

He's a bar soap type of guy, y'know the ones that leave a stiff feeling film on your skin? And he is so guilty of 3-1s please.

Once you're back in his life? You get him a whole regimen and call him each night to ensure he is properly doing it (if you don't live together already)

He uses apple scented products, all curtsy of you, shampoo, conditioner, and body wash all have some apple note in their scent profile. You also bought him an acne safe face wash (he had some acne in his teen years) a nice moisturizer, and a good razor for shaving. Oh and a few lip balms and chapsticks.

You set up an auto-renew subscription for these products so they show up at his doorstep before he can run out of them. He spent all those years taking care of you, now it's your tune to take care of him.

[corrodedheartsclub]

I’m Dumb She’s a Lesbian

Steddie. Modern au. Getting together. Platonic Stobin. 1685 words.

Steve’s used to people mistaking him and Robin as a couple. Unfortunately, he’s not used to Eddie’s form of problem solving.

After trying to explain to Eddie, without success, that him and Robin are purely platonic, he mistakenly admits that he did have a crush on her briefly, but once he knew it was never going to happen, they’ve become best friend. Platonic soulmates even.

“It’s honestly so for the best, Eddie. We weren’t meant to be a couple. We’re like cosmically linked on a whole other level.” Ok, Steve might be a little high, but he really believe him and Robin are meant to be in the most platonic way possible. He’s laying on Eddie’s bed, the joint their sharing nearly gone, and he can’t help the goofy smile that splits across his face. “Eddie, you know… I actually-”

“You guys are perfect together though! You’re always together, laughing and leaning on each other. How could there be no chance?” Eddie laments.

Steve shakes his head and groans, turning his face into the sheet. Eddie was hopeless.

“You’ve just gotta find the right timing.” Eddie doesn’t understand a world where anyone would shoot down this newly evolved Harrington. He’s perfect, and if Eddie can’t have him, he’ll make it his personal mission to get Steve and Robin together.

Steve’s watching him, wondering what the heck is going on in that head of his. Eddie was a mystery to him.

-

Kicking off his plan, Eddie starts by asking them to go to the movies, only to bail at the last minute. “I completely forgot I promised Wayne I’d help him work on the truck. I’m the worst, but no you guys should still go! Enjoy the movie!” He urges them on.

They sit through a cheesy romcom, and by five minutes in, they’re both questioning Eddie’s choice in movies. Never mind that Steve did end up really like it.

“That was weird, right?” Robin questions as they leave the theater.

“Which part?” Steve was finishing the last of his candy by turning over the box. He looks over at her, a mouthful of sour gummy worms.

Robin laughs, “You look like a creature.”

Steve crosses his eyes and laughs.

She’s shaking her head. “Eddie. He’s being weird. Did you notice anything last night when you guys were hanging out?”

“Mostly that he’s gorgeous and still completely oblivious every time I try to tell him how I feel,” Steve grumbles. “Plus, he’s so convinced we should be dating.”

“We? Like, you and I?” Robin mock gags, but then she jumps and smacks Steve’s arm. “That’s it!”

“Ow what the fuck, Buckley? What’s it?”

“He’s trying to parent trap us!”

Steve looks skeptical, but he starts connecting the dots in his head. He gaps. “Oh fuck.”

“Ok, we’ve just gotta sit him down and tell him we’re not together.”

“You could just tell him you’re gay and have a girlfriend. That would probably kill this idea that we belong together. I mean, he’s gay, so you shouldn’t have to worry about him?” Steve suggests.

“I’m just not ready to scream it from the rooftops. Plus, Vickie’s in the closet too, and I don’t want our time together being put under a microscope and risk outing her before she’s ready. I know I can trust Eddie to be supportive, but he’s so loud and proud and though I love that about him, I worry he’d let it slip on accident.”

Steve understands. Eddie is bold and outgoing, and it’s all wonderful. It’s just not what Robin needs right now. He agrees they just need to sit him down and set the record straight.

-

Steve leans against the counter at Family Video. The day’s been painfully slow so far, and he finds himself slow-blinking at the door, dozing off against his better judgment.

The door chimes and shocks him awake. He’s greeted by Dustin dumping a pile of returns in front of him. “Good morning,” he teases.

He rolls his eyes and groans at him. “You watch too many movies.” He yawns through Dustin’s offended scoff.

“Did you just go to the movies last night? Hypocrite!” Dustin defends.

Steve shoots him a look. “How do you know that? Stalking me, kid?”

“I was picking up character sheets from Eddie. He had some extras and I’m prepping for our next campaign. He said you and Robin were out watching a romcom. Are you guys finally dating?”

Steve lets out a small chuckle. “Ah, the man of the hour. No, we’re not dating, and we’ll never be dating. Eddie’s just trying to make something happen. Nosy little shits, the lot of you.”

Dustin looks skeptical. “Why would Eddie want you and Robin together? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“You’re the one that just asked if we’re finally dating, and now you’re flipping the script. Who’s the hypocrite now?” Steve is scanning in the movies and shaking his head.

“I just mean that Eddie wouldn’t want you guys together because he’s totally into you,” Dustin says it like an obvious fact. “He’s always so whiny about it.”

Steve freezes. “What?”

The kid’s eyes widen as he realizes his overstep. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Steve’s already reaching for the phone. He punches in Robin’s number and points at Dustin while it rings. “You shouldn’t have. We’re going to talk later about not blabbing other people’s secrets. For now- scram.”

Dustin has the hindsight to look remorseful.

Robin answers with a theatric sigh. “Are you so hopeless without me that you must call on my day off?”

“Change of plans. I’m going to catch Eddie in his own trap, and you’re going to help.”

-

It’s all going according to plan. Steve and Robin find that it’s pretty easy to give Eddie the slip on his attempts.

Eddie tries to get Robin and Steve on a romantic date? Oh no, Robin’s got a family emergency. Eddie, you should stay so Steve isn’t all alone.

Lined up for Robin and Steve have to ride the ferris wheel together? Whoops, Robin remembers she’s afraid of heights at the front of the line, quick Eddie switch with her so Steve didn’t wait in this line for nothing.

Eddie sent flowers to Robin at family video with a card that says from Steve. Shame that the order got mixed up, and they went to Steve instead. Oh, but look how Steve blushes at the delivery.

The duo is feeling pretty good about their plan, but Eddie is losing his mind. Instead of fixing his crush, he’s fallen harder than ever. Every time he thinks he’s set the perfect trap, it twists around, and he finds himself spending more time with Steve. He’s not complaining necessarily. Any time alone with Steve makes his heart pound in his chest, but if he can’t have this perfect guy, he’s set on getting him the girl of his dreams.

Alternatively, Robin is starting to find it more and more difficult to explain to Vickie why she’s playing a game of set-up chicken with her friends.

Robin decides it’s time to end Eddie’s misery.

Her and Steve plan an elaborate picnic out at skull rock. There’s a big blanket, tons of pillows, and the most classic picnic basket you’ve ever seen.

Steve is pacing at the tree line. He needs this to go well. His crush had settled deep in his chest, and Steve was sure it was love. He didn’t want to play games with Eddie. It was time for everyone to clear the air and be direct with their feelings, but he couldn’t help the nerves that made him question everything. What if Eddie didn’t like him? Maybe he really did think Steve and Robin belonged together.

He tries to clear his mind. Robin was telling Eddie to come meet him here right about now. He should be here soon. Steve fiddles with his hair, trying to quell the anxiety.

When Eddie finally makes his way through the woods, Steve isn’t sure how to greet him.

Eddie’s surprised at the setup, and he immediately tries to rationalize it before Steve can get a word out. “Did you mean for me to come here? Buckley said you were looking for me, but I can go get her? Or do you need help setting up… I’m not sure you can do much else. It looks perfect.”

Steve is dumbfounded at Eddie’s ability to completely misread his intent, once again.

“No, Eddie, I meant for you to be here. This is for you.” He tries to speak clearly, leaving no room for confusion.

Eddie looks utterly confused. “For me?”

Steve can’t help his fond smile. “Yes, dummy. You. If you can stop trying to set me up with my best friend for a minute, I’ve been trying to ask you out for a while now.”

The man is gaping at him. “No. You’re not serious.”

He groans and tosses his hands up. “Eddie, what do I have to do to convince you?” Steve stares at him for a moment before he gets a bright idea. He stands up straight, walks up to Eddie in two long strides, grabs his face, and kisses him.

Eddie lets out a surprised noise before grabbing at Steve’s arms, waist, hair, anything for purchase to pull him closer.

Steve parts, pressing their foreheads together and keeping Eddie close. Eddie whines softly before looking back at Steve, trying to understand it all.

“I just wanted you to be happy. I didn’t think- I had no idea this was an option. Even if it couldn’t be with me, I just knew you deserved all the happiness,” the words spill out as Eddie reaches up to touch Steve’s face gently, tracing along his jaw reverently.

“I’m in love with you. I tried to get the words out so many times, but I was so nervous for how you’d react.” Steve leans into the touch.

Eddie’s breath hitches. “I love you too.”

-

Later, Robin introduces Eddie to her girlfriend, and he spends the rest of the afternoon apologizing for his schemes.

[intoanotherworld23]

Safe House Heat

Summary: Harry Castillo was hired to be your bodyguard, and watch over you until everything was safe. What you didn’t anticipate was what was going to happen next

Warnings: mature themes, explicit content, smut, unprotected sex, buckle up this is a kinky one y’all, spanking, oral female receiving, bondage, overstimulation, dominant Harry, submissive reader

A/N: y’all better clutch your panties for this one cause it is long and kinky! Comments and reblogs are always encouraged and appreciated! Always support your fellow tumblr writers! If you wish to be an added to a tag list let me know and I’ll add you! Thanks so much! Enjoy! XOXO

Hall Of Hunks

Tag list for everything: @iam-laiya @rosie-posie08 @madzleigh01 @alwaysclassyeagle @mytbel0st @shanimallina87 @marvelstarker-mha98 @powellssugarbaby @lora21 @kmc1989

Tag list for Pedro Pascal: @pedrohoe04 @k-k0129 @livingdeadmaria @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @milly-louise @kittenlittle24 @trisaratops-mcgee @subconsciouscollapse @hooked-on-penapascal27 @red-red-rogue @fellinfromthetop @drewharrisonwriter @vickie5446 @millerfan @lover-of-books-and-tea @bbyanarchist @justajoelsreader @meetmeatyourworst

You knew being locked away in a safe house with Harry Castillo was going to drive you crazy. What you didn't expect was the way your body responded to him every time he entered the room like a live current ran straight through you.

Six days into isolation, you were tired of pretending. Tired of acting like your bodyguard wasn't the kind of man who haunted fantasies. Tall, broad shouldered, eyes like a summer storm about to break, and a voice that could command obedience with just a murmur.

But tonight, something was different.

The storm outside rattled the windows. Rain sliced down the glass like it was trying to get in. You sat curled on the worn leather couch in one of Harry's oversized hoodies, pretending to watch the flickering light of the fire. In truth, you were aware of him more than anything else. Every shift of his weight in the armchair opposite, the slow drag of his gaze down your bare thighs, the clench of his jaw when he thought you weren't looking.

You'd caught him staring more than once. And you were ready to make your move.

"You gonna keep staring at me all night, Castillo?" you teased, voice low. His eyes flicked up to yours dangerous, dark, amused. He didn't even blink.

"I've had my eyes on you since the moment we got here," he said, his voice gravel and heat. "You just haven't had the guts to call me on it until now."

Your heart skipped, heat crawling under your skin. You shifted on the couch, crossing your legs slowly, deliberately, making sure the hem of the hoodie inched just high enough to reveal a flash of your lace panties. His jaw flexed.

"What are you trying to do, sweetheart?" he asked, tone deceptively calm.

You smirked. "Drive you crazy. Is it working?"

Harry stood. No hesitation. Just power, confidence, and the slow stalk of a predator with prey in sight. He didn't stop until he was towering over you, one hand braced on the back of the couch, the other trailing a finger under your chin, tilting your face up to meet his.

"You have no idea what you're asking for," he murmured, eyes burning. "But I'm done playing bodyguard if you keep looking at me like that."

"Then stop playing," you whispered.

That was all it took. He gripped your jaw and kissed you like he was starving. His mouth claimed yours, rough and dominant, tongue sliding in without asking permission because he already knew it was his. You moaned against him, fisting his shirt, pulling him closer.

Harry pulled back just long enough to yank the hoodie over your head, baring your chest and the soft black lace beneath. He growled when he saw it.

"You wore this for me?" You nodded, breathless. He dragged his hand down your throat to the curve of your breast, squeezing just hard enough to make you gasp. "Smart girl."

Then he flipped you over his knee like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Wha- Harry!" you yelped, heat blooming in your cheeks.

He chuckled darkly, his hand smoothing over your ass. "Told you. You tease me for six days straight, flash those pretty little panties, and you don't think you're gonna get punished?"

The first smack was sharp, firm, but not cruel. You cried out, more in surprise than pain, the sting sending a shock of arousal straight to your core.

"Oh my god." Another. And another. His hand alternating between soft squeezes and harsh spanks. Between each one, he leaned in close, his voice low and sinful.

"You like acting like a brat?" Smack.

"Wriggling in my lap like that?" Smack.

"You've been begging for this, baby. Every little look, every bend of your hips." Smack.

Your thighs trembled. You were soaking.

"Harry, please." you whimpered, breath catching on a gasp. He ran a hand between your legs, sliding your panties to the side and cupping your soaked heat.

"Goddamn," he growled. "Dripping for me. You wanted this. You need me to fuck the brat right out of you, don't you?"

You nodded, dazed, grinding against his fingers. He pushed two in without warning, curling them just right. You cried out again, shuddering around them, hips canting up to meet each thrust of his hand. The rough calluses on his fingers made every stroke delicious torture.

"Beg me," he said, voice guttural. "Tell me what you want."

"I want you to fuck me," you moaned, losing all sense of pride. "I want you to ruin me, Harry please."

He didn't make you ask again. In seconds, he had you on your knees against the couch, chest pressed into the cushions, ass up, legs parted. The storm outside raged, but all you could hear was the sound of him unzipping his jeans and the blunt pressure of his cock sliding between your folds, teasing and taunting.

"You ready for this?"

"Yes," you gasped, back arching. "God, yes."

He slammed into you in one thrust, burying himself to the hilt. Your scream was swallowed by the couch cushions as he began to pound into you from behind, one hand on your hip, the other tangled in your hair, keeping you right where he wanted you.

The sound of skin against skin filled the room. Each thrust rougher than the last, Harry's voice tight with control.

"Look at you," he growled. "Taking me so well. Your tight little pussy wrapped around me like you were made for this."

You moaned incoherently, lost to the rhythm of his hips, the overwhelming fullness of him inside you.

"Fuck you're so good," he groaned. "So wet, so fucking perfect."

When he spanked you again harder this time you cried out and clenched around him, the sharp pain only pushing you closer to the edge.

"You gonna come for me, baby?" he taunted, grinding into you with a wicked smirk. "You gonna fall apart on my cock like a good girl?"

"Yes yes, I'm so close Harry please!" His hand found your clit, rubbing in tight, perfect circles as he pounded into you harder, faster. Your body seized, back bowing, every nerve lighting up as your orgasm slammed into you with a force you couldn't stop if you tried.

You screamed his name, eyes squeezing shut, thighs shaking uncontrollably. Harry followed a second later, burying himself deep with a harsh groan, spilling inside you as he gripped your hips so tight you'd feel him for days.

For a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of the storm, the fire crackling, your combined ragged breaths.

Then Harry leaned down, his chest pressed to your back, and whispered against your neck, "Told you I'd break you. You good, sweetheart?"

You nodded, smiling into the cushions, completely blissed out. He pulled out slowly, guiding you gently onto your back, kissing your thighs, your belly, your breasts slow and reverent now.

"I'm not done with you," he murmured, his voice like velvet and sin. "We've got all night. And I've waited too fucking long to stop at once."

And with that, he slid down between your legs again, tongue flicking out like a man determined to worship you until you couldn't walk tomorrow.

You were still trembling from the first orgasm when you felt his mouth on you again warm, wet, deliberate. His tongue flicked up your slit, slow and teasing, dragging your overstimulated nerves back to life. You gasped, thighs jerking, but Harry's hands wrapped around your legs and pinned them to his shoulders.

"You didn't think I was done, did you?" he murmured against your folds, the vibration sending aftershocks straight through your core. "Sweetheart, I haven't even started with you yet."

You were already soaked, slick with both of your release, and he groaned at the taste of it, diving back in like a man obsessed.

He licked you like he had all the time in the world lazy strokes, messy kisses, little flicks of his tongue over your clit, pulling a whimper from your throat with every pass. Then he'd slow it down, circle your entrance, just watching you twitch for more.

"Fuck look at you," he rasped. "All swollen and sensitive. I could spend hours between these legs. Days."

You reached for his hair, needing something to anchor yourself, but he caught your wrists in one hand and pressed them above your head.

"No, baby," he said, voice dark silk. "You don't get to control anything right now. That's my job."

Then his tongue plunged into you, and you screamed. Helpless. Bound by nothing but his grip and your own writhing pleasure. He kept you pinned and open, tongue fucking you slow and deep, making the pressure build again even though your body was still trembling from the first wave. You tried to twist your hips, to chase the edge, but he pulled back.

"Nope," he said with maddening calm. "Not yet. I decide when you come again." You whimpered, nearly frantic.

"You like giving up control, don't you?" he asked, voice low. "You like letting me take what I want." You nodded frantically, unable to speak. He smiled, that dark, cocky smirk that made your stomach drop. "Good girl."

Then he reached up, slid two fingers into your mouth.

"Suck." You did, instinctively, tasting yourself on his skin. He watched you with heat in his eyes, the flicker of firelight reflecting in them like molten gold.

Once your lips were wet and full around his fingers, he slid them back down—straight into your slick, desperate core—and started thrusting them slowly while his mouth returned to your clit. The mix of suction and pressure was too much.

"Harry. Harry, I can't, " you sobbed, thighs clenching.

"You will," he growled. "You'll come for me again, and you'll thank me for it."

Your body arched off the couch, overwhelmed, oversensitive but god, you wanted it. Needed it. Every wicked stroke of his tongue, every curl of his fingers dragged you closer.

Your orgasm crashed over you with brutal intensity. You convulsed around him, crying out as everything shattered and ignited at once. He didn't stop he kept licking you through it, slower now, gentler, teasing your thighs as they trembled around his head.

When you finally collapsed, breathless and limp, he rose over you your shirt gone now, chest bare, sweat gleaming across his sculpted muscles.

"You still with me?" he asked, brushing your cheek with the backs of his fingers.

You nodded, dazed and wrecked in the best way. Harry leaned down and kissed you slow and sensual this time. A different kind of hunger. Less claiming, more connection. It melted something in your chest, even as your body begged for more.

"I've wanted to do that since day one," he murmured against your lips. "You have no idea what you do to me."

You smiled, still catching your breath. "Then show me." His smirk returned. Dangerous. Hot.

"Oh, baby. With pleasure."

You were in his bed now, the only bedroom in the safe house. The sheets smelled like cedar and clean linen, but it was Harry's scent that surrounded you, that made you feel drunk. Your wrists were bound in his tie, anchored loosely to the headboard.

Harry trailed kisses from your navel to your throat, taking his time. His cock pressed hard against your thigh, but he didn't rush it.

"I want you to remember this," he said, voice thick. "Every. Damn. Detail."

His hand slid up to your breast, kneading gently, thumb flicking over the sensitive peak until your back arched.

He kissed you again, slower now, but no less intense. He kept you hovering, teased you with his body, his words, every inch of him designed to torment you with pleasure.

"I love watching you fall apart," he murmured. "Love making you squirm, making you need it."

He kissed your neck, your jaw, bit your earlobe, his breath hot.

"You love being mine like this, don't you?"

"Yes," you gasped, grinding up against him, desperate.

"I could keep you tied here for hours," he whispered. "Just edging you. Over and over until you're crying for it."

"Please." you whimpered. "I'll do anything."

He groaned. "Fuck. You're perfect."

Then finally, finally he thrust into you again. Slower this time, deeper, each movement precise and possessive, like he was carving himself into your memory.

He stayed inside you like that, rocking his hips in a rhythm that sent shudders through your core, his mouth never leaving your skin. Every inch of your body was his.

And you wouldn't have it any other way. He whispered things in your ear as he moved.

"Such a good girl..."

"You take me so well..."

"I could fuck you like this forever."

You came again with him deep inside you, moaning his name like it was the only word you knew. He followed moments later, groaning into your shoulder, his body pressing yours down into the mattress with the force of it.

Afterward, he untied your wrists and gathered you into his arms. The storm had passed outside, the silence broken only by the faint crackle of the fire and the slowing beat of your hearts. You pressed your face to his chest, dazed and aching in the best way.

"You're mine now," he whispered into your hair. "No more pretending. No more distance."

You nodded. "I don't want distance. I want this. You."

Harry smiled against your skin.

"Good," he said, pulling the blanket over you both. "Because I'm not letting you go."

———————————————

The soft morning sun filtered through the cabin's wide windows, bathing the bedroom in a golden glow. Outside, birdsong cut through the quiet aftermath of the storm, but inside the safe house, you were trapped in something far warmer it was Harry Castillo's arms.

You shifted beneath the sheets and felt the dull ache in your thighs, between your legs, across your hips a delicious reminder of everything he'd done to you the night before. Several times.

His hand was sprawled over your stomach, possessive even in sleep, and his body radiated heat at your back. You tilted your head just slightly and smiled when you caught sight of him mouth slightly parted, lashes too long for someone so dangerous, hair messy and wild from your hands. God help you, but he was sexy even half-unconscious.

You tried to slip out of bed, careful not to wake him. Your legs weren't exactly cooperating, and the soreness made you wince as your foot hit the cold wooden floor.

"I know you're not trying to sneak away after I rearranged your entire soul last night," came his groggy voice, rough with sleep. You froze, turning slowly. He hadn't even opened his eyes.

"Rearranged my soul?" you asked with a laugh.

His eyes cracked open, a lazy grin pulling at his mouth. "Don't act like you didn't see stars, baby."

You rolled your eyes, reaching for the hoodie you'd worn the night before his hoodie, obviously.

"I did see stars. Right around the third orgasm."

He groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. "Fuck. I love hearing that."

You pulled the hoodie over your bare skin and padded to the kitchen. The place was quiet and cozy, the storm having left behind a coolness in the air that contrasted with the heat still thrumming in your veins.

You were halfway through making coffee when you felt him come up behind you, chest pressed to your back, hands low on your waist.

"Didn't say you could get out of bed yet," he murmured, kissing the spot just behind your ear.

You shivered. "Didn't realize I needed permission."

He grinned against your skin. "After last night, you definitely need permission."

One hand slid under the hoodie and skimmed over your bare thigh.

"Still not wearing panties?" he asked, mock-scandalized. "Shameless."

"You ruined them," you reminded him, glancing over your shoulder. "You ripped the lace with your teeth, remember?"

He groaned like it was a fond memory. "Best fucking moment of my life."

You giggled as he bent and lifted you onto the counter, planting himself between your thighs, the coffee now forgotten behind you. His hands gripped your hips as he leaned in, noses brushing.

"You know this complicates things," you whispered, even as your fingers curled in the fabric of his t-shirt.

"Yeah," he admitted. "But I'm not walking away. Not now. Not after I know what it's like to have you squirming under me, moaning my name like it's the only word you know."

You flushed, legs tightening around his waist automatically.

"You're really bad at being professional," you teased.

He smirked. "So are you, sweetheart."

You kissed him slow, teasing, softer than last night, but still hungry. He tasted like sleep and desire and something addictive you knew you weren't ready to give up.

When you finally broke apart, he rested his forehead against yours and whispered, "As soon as this job's over, I'm taking you somewhere no one can find us."

"We're already in a safe house," you pointed out.

"Not safe enough," he said with a growl, palming your ass through the hoodie. "I want to be able to make you scream without worrying about security cameras."

You bit your lip. "I think I can handle that."

He reached for your coffee cup behind you, took a sip, then made a face.

"No sugar?"

"I didn't have time to sweeten it," you said with a smirk.

Harry leaned in, his mouth brushing yours again. "Good thing I've got you to sweeten my morning."

You rolled your eyes hard enough to give yourself a headache, laughing as he lifted you off the counter and carried you back toward the bed like you weighed nothing.

"Harry! I was making breakfast!"

"I am breakfast," he said smugly. "And you're not leaving this bed until I'm satisfied."

"Again?" you asked, mock-dramatic. "I might need an ice pack."

He tossed you onto the mattress and crawled on top of you, the hoodie riding up your thighs, eyes gleaming with mischief and promise.

"I'll spank you for that sass, sweetheart."

"Maybe I want you to," you whispered. He paused. Smiled.

"Well," he said, pulling the hoodie up over your head again, "then I guess we're both getting exactly what we want."

[rafeslvbug]

introducing…nurse!reader

✿ who used to be a cia specialist nurse, travelling with them on missions and providing emergency care

✿ who knew it was a mistake when she started falling for rafe. tending to his injuries late at night.

✿ who handled every tumultuous break up, with professionalism, not risking losing her job.

✿ who doesn’t like finding rafe’s guns hidden in various drawers across the house. when she finds them, she makes a mental note to keep them out of reach of her son.

✿ who has mini heart attacks every time rafe’s id pops up on her phone. it’s either a good call or a bad call, and she hates the bad calls.

✿ who refuses to believe rafe might die on a mission. refuses to hear his apologies and goodbyes. demands he pushes through it, and that she’ll meet him at the nearest hospital.

✿ who adores her son. he looks just like rafe, and when rafe’s away, she’ll find him in her son, in the same blue eyes and mannerisms.

✿ who, when her and rafe get married and she has her baby, stops working for the cia. rafe being in it is dangerous enough, and she can’t keep travelling with him. someone has to stay home. so she takes a normal job as a nurse.

✿ who suppresses her gasps when rafe comes home at midnight, visibly injured, refusing to go to a doctor. takes care of him in their room, pulled onto his lap, being delicate with each injury.

✿ who will always try and see through him. she knows there’s things he can’t tell her about his work, but there’s other things he won’t tell her about his mental state. and she’ll gently pry them open until he’s spilling in her hands.

✿ who catches rafe sitting by his sleeping son, brushing his hair back, and looking regretful for every moment he hasn’t spent with him. and her heart both shatters and blossoms.

✿ who has all these photos of rafe, and can’t post them. she has no online life, rafe sets up her accounts to protect her and more often than not, social media has thought she was a bot.

✿ who helps rafe pack when he’s got an impromptu mission. she doesn’t complain, or whine, she packs his bag, kisses him softly and tells him to come home, because safety is never assured.

✿ who’s the biggest multi-tasker alive. she’ll have her baby fed, dropped off at daycare, all in time for her shift, and be ready to get home to make her baby dinner. she gets her work done, writing reports and conclusive prescriptions. rafe’s in awe when he gets home to see how she’s been functioning, keeping everything in order. he’s proud.

✿ who understands what life she’s gotten herself into. and wouldn’t trade it for the world.

[happyk44]

[Text ID: 1. Most of us think about love as something that happens to us. We fall. We get crushed.

But what I like about this study is how it assumes that [highlight] love is an action. [end highlight]

2. love really just is *sharing blankets* *driving together in silence* *this song made me think of you* *I made them for you* *having the most fun just talking* *cold hands warm hearts* *I got home safe* *you said you needed one so I found one for you*

3. I like to cook; I like to sew. They’re peaceful things, and they’re an expression of caring.

4. He loves history. He wanted to write a biography of John Quincy Adams. I, shamefully, knew almost nothing about John Quincy Adams, so I went online and bought every biography of him I could find. One day, he called me, claiming that we wouldn’t work out long term. He said he loved me but that we had different interests. [highlight] “What does love mean to you?” [end highlight] I said. “That’s an impossible question,” he replied. I, however, find love to be quite simple. Love is the stack of biographies on my nightstand with a bookmark near the end.

5. My dad was eating pistachios so I reached my hand out and he just started peeling them and giving them to me. Then suddenly went “I really hope you find someone who loves you a lot” and I went “enough to peel my pistachios for me?” And he laughed and said “yeah exactly” before carrying on giving me more

6. you save me half a bag of skins, the hard parts, my fav, dusted orange with hot

7. you make us tacos with shells I like and you don’t

8. No, baby, that was great, just let me hold you know. Let me run out, it’ll just take a second. I’ll be back before you know it, and then you won’t have to wait until morning. Sure, I’ll look at it right now. It’s no trouble. Sure, I can wait. Just let me know when you’re ready, we can go. Sure, I’ll come over and bring my tools. I don’t mind. Sure, I have time [highlight] I always have time for you. Sure, whatever you need. [end highlight] Whatever you need.

9. I hear my voice repeating what I used to say to my husband: Love is action, I used to say to him

/end ID]

love as action

mandy len catron / @sweetnd / joan didion / julia nicole camp / @honey-fire / danez smith / s. bear bergman / marie howe

[femmesport]

Can you do the "current girlfriend" trend with Juju Watkins

wc: 870 (so short sorry) an: such a cute trend i love it ahahah, but here is this. short and unedited because i have a super busy day but wanted to get this out there!! -- tea ★’*•.¸♡

you couldn’t stop giggling at your phone. you had scrolled through multiple tiktoks of couples doing the ‘current’ girlfriend or boyfriend trend.

you and your girlfriend juju had been planning on recording a video for your cooking account. you had planned on sharing your pasta recipe with her help. you knew this would be the perfect time to take part in the trend.

juju had stepped out into your guys’ kitchen looking cozy in a dark gray jogger set. she saw you and smiled lazily heading in your direction. she took the time to wrap her arms around your waist from behind and kiss your neck softly.

“i’m ready whenever you are, baby” she smiles into your neck and you melt slightly, momentarily forgetting your plans.

“are you sure you’re not too tired? i know you had a long day of practice. we don’t have to film this” you whisper resting your arms on hers and smile with a tilt of your head.

“nah, i’m good. always down to film with my baby and eat some good food” she presses a kiss to your cheek and steps back.

you smile and set up your phone on the tripod stand you had ready to film. once everything was ready, you pressed record in the camera app and took a step back to stand near juju. once you had backed up, she wrapped her arms around you and you almost felt bad for what you were about to do.

“hi, everyone” you draw out with a smile and a wave excitedly towards the camera, “i know y’all have been wanting some more cooking with juju videos, so today, i have brought my current girlfriend to help me cook and get y’all the content you’ve asked for.”

you smile and look at juju who just smiled at the camera for a moment before her face started to fall. she pulled back but kept her hands steady on your waist.

“nah. what’d you just say?” she looks at you with the face of a confused puppy.

holding back a laugh, you smile at her, “i said we were going to give them the content they really want.” you put both hands on either side of her face to pull her in for a kiss which she avoids and looks at you wildly.

“bruh, don’t even play. you know that is not what i mean” she pouts and you smile harder but manage to hold in your laugh.

“baby, that is literally all i said” you kiss her cheek and her pout deepens.

“damn, calling me your current girlfriend is wild work. actin’ like someone is coming after me” she moves her hands away and turns around.

you giggle and wrap your arms around her waist leaning your head into her neck much like she did to you earlier. “baby, you are literally my current girlfriend. what do you want me to call you?”

“baby, princess, love of your life, future wife, hell i’ll even take juju. current girlfriend is absolutely wild work. making it sound like there will be a next” her arms are crossed and her face is scrunched up in an adorable pout.

sensing no true frustration and only mild pouting, you decide to push a little further. “baby, at the time of us recording this you are my current girlfriend. you never know what could happen between now and the upload.”

at that juju dramatically gasps and turns around. “bruh, don’t even play… you know what, you right. i’mma go get this ring i’ve been holding onto and fix it so that no one thinks they have a chance” she walks out of your grasp and you laugh but turn her around and press a kiss to her lips.

“wait, wait, baby, it was just a prank. but do you really have a ring” juju pouts harder and looks at you for a moment before continuing.

“absolutely i have a ring, you are the one for me… currently and forever” her arms are crossed but she lets you continue to pepper kisses all over her face.

“you are the one for me too, juju. forever and always. it was just a silly little trend,” you kiss her lips gently as her hands settle back on your hips, “i’m sorry, baby.”

she sighs dramatically making you giggle at your girlfriend’s theatrics, “can we make sure everyone knows that i’m your forever girlfriend.”

at that you raise an eyebrow, “forever girlfriend? what happened to that ring you mentioned?”

“okay, chill chill, you know what i mean. i am yours forever. no matter the label that follows” she smiles and leans in kissing you softly.

you melt gently into the moment. and, if it takes you guys another hour before juju is willing to film again, no one needs to know.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

@/yourusername: current girlfriend trend with my forever girl <3

~

@/jujuwatkinss: nah because this shit hurt - forever my baby tho 🫶

@/jujubbaggin: YOURE LYING no way is THE juju watkins POUTING

@/yournamecore: wait so when do we get the recipe?

@/kikiiriafen: i knew you said she was like this, but i really needed to see this myself

[booksandteaandtears]

A proposal

Michael 'Dr. Robby' Robinavitch x f!prosecutor!reader

summary: after two years together you are ready to call Robby your husband, but he's not acting on your hints

A short, slightly angsty, but mostly fluffy one

masterlist

Robby had noticed you'd been off the last few days. Work had been quiet for you for a couple of weeks, so you'd been able to spend a lot of time together. You'd gone on some nice dates, eating at fancy restaurants, going for hikes.

Robby knew your work was going to pick back up the day after and he wanted to confront it, to figure out what was going on.

You were sat on the couch, reading some report when he sat down next to you, looking anxious. You raised your eyebrows at him. "Something the matter, Michael?" He scratched his throat. "Did you enjoy yourself this week?" "Yes." You answered. He thought your answer was too short to be very truthful.

"Are you angry with me?" You looked up at him. He looked at you expectantly. You put the report down on the coffee table and forced yourself to sit more upright on the couch.

"I am, as a matter of fact. Don't get me wrong, I loved the dates, they were perfect. But I expected something this week, Michael, and you haven't so much as given a hint about it."

Robby looked confused. "I don't understand, what did you expect?"

You sighed. "Are you really that dense?" The confusion hadn't left Robby. "That hike we took, remember how I described that a couple months ago?"

Robby scratched his beard. "You said the view at the top would be an ideal proposal spot." "Yes!" You gasped at him.

Robby could not look more confused if he tried.

"What are you saying, did you expect I would..." You threw your hands in the air. "I thought you would propose! I've had this day marked in my calendar since we planned it, I even got my nails done for it. I've been hinting for months."

Robby seemed to have stopped listening after you said the word propose. "You want to get married? To me?"

"Jesus christ, Robby! Of course I want to get married to you. I told you when we first started dating that I'd like to get married some day. It's been two years since then. We've bought a house together. I've been talking about my dream engagement ring for the past three months."

Robby blinked at you. "I thought that was just hypothetical thing?"

"Oh my god. Michael. I sent you a link. I gave you my ring size. I even sent it to Dana and Abbot as well, in case you forgot or something."

"So that's why they were asking me if I bought "it" yet. I couldn't figure out what they meant."

You laughed at him. "You may be a very smart and accomplished doctor, but if I didn't know better I'd say you were really dumb."

He laughed with you and pulled you closer to him on the couch.

"So," he whispered, kissing you, "You want to get married?"

You held his chin in your hand. "Desperately. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to call you my husband. I want to grow old with you. I'd spend every minute of every day with you if I could."

He kissed you again and pressed his head against yours.

"Will you marry me? Will you please be my wife and make me the happiest man alive for the rest of our days? Even if I am a little stupid and unaware sometimes? Even if it's a proposal without a ring?"

You couldn't stop smiling. "Yes. Yes! I will!" You kissed him again.

When you came up for air his grin matched yours. "I will marry you," you told him, "But you will have to get me my ring, because I consulted all my colleagues on which one was the prettiest and I am terrified to show up without one when I've been hyping it up for weeks."

He smiled at you, wondering if he could ever feel happier than in that moment. "I better get you a ring, because Dana will kill me if she hears how I handled this."

[ghostlyferrettarot]

୭ ⭐️ ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 📀The 1st House and the Planets: How we are seen and how we show ourselves୭ ⭐️ ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 📀

❗️All the observations in this post are based on personal experience and research, it's completely fine if it doesn't resonate with everyone❗️

✨️Paid Services ✨️ (Natal charts and tarot readings) Open!

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💿Masterlist💿 💿Masterlist 2💿

୭ ⭐️ ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎWhen a planet is in the 1st house, it becomes our letter of introduction, that first impression that others feel without us saying anything⭐️ ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 📀

୭ ⭐️ ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ Sun in the 1st House: These people seem to be in the spotlight even when they're not looking for it. They often have an expressive face, bright eyes, and golden or warm skin. Life has given them the mission to be unapologetically themselves, and while that sounds easy, for them it's a constant transformation.

୭ ⭐️ ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ Moon in the 1st House: They absorb energy like sponges, and their faces reflect everything. Changeable, sensitive, sometimes shy. There's an emotional sweetness in their gaze that makes even strangers feel comfortable. The Moon in the 1st House is imbued with mood. Sometimes gentle and maternal; other times, reserved and withdrawn. The body is like an emotional map, physically reacting to what's happening inside.

୭ ⭐️ ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ Mercury in the 1st House: These people express themselves even when they're silent. Their eyes move quickly, their voice changes pitch, their style is playful, curious, and changing. There's something nervous and sparkling about their energy. They always seem young, even as the years go by. They present themselves to the world as communicators, and often feel they must be understood through dialogue with others.

୭ ⭐️ ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ Venus in the 1st House: With or without effort, these people arouse attraction. There's something in their face, their gestures, their voice, that simply… pleases. Their presence is harmonious, aesthetic, enveloping. But Venus doesn't just give beauty; it also gives the desire to please. And that can become a trap if one experiences it through the eyes of others. Their style is usually refined, sweet, artistic; although with age, it can become more magnetic and sensual.

୭ ⭐️ ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ Mars in the 1st House: These people have a strong presence, which can sometimes be unintentionally intimidating. They walk with determination, their gaze is purposeful. There's something warrior-like about their demeanor. They may have an athletic, defined appearance, or simply an energy that seems ready to act. Anger, desire, competition… it all feels very close to the skin.

୭ ⭐️ ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ Jupiter in the 1st House: These people stand out because they take up space: with their laughter, their body, their words, or their faith. They tend to have a cheerful gaze, a rounded face, and an optimistic energy (even when they're sad). The world perceives them as fortunate, but their real challenge is not to get lost in excess or in the need to always be "more."

୭ ⭐️ ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ Saturn in the 1st House: These people look older from a young age. There's something serious in their gaze, a sense of responsibility that's noticeable before they even speak. They may have a thin, bony body, a rigid posture. Their energy says, "I'm fine, I don't need help." Their beauty lies in the depth and loyalty they offer when they feel safe.

୭ ⭐️ ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ Uranus in the 1st House: Nothing about them is conventional. It could be their clothes, their hair, their way of speaking, or simply an electric energy that makes them unique. They are people who challenge without saying a word. They often feel out of place… until they understand that their place is change itself. People may not understand them at first, but they always remember them.

୭ ⭐️ ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ Neptune in the 1st House: These people have a rare, almost unreal beauty. There is something in their eyes that seems not quite there. They may seem distracted, soft, mystical. They change like water, reflecting the environment. Neptune in the 1st can attract projections from others: people see in them what they want to see. They must accept their sensitivity as a tool, not a condemnation.

୭ ⭐️ ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ Pluto in the 1st House: These people don't go unnoticed, even if they try to hide. Their mere presence is uncomfortable or hypnotizing. There's something dark, deep, magnetic about them. They were born to transform, to die many times and be reborn greater than before. They are healers, witches, survivors. And their strength isn't always noticeable, but it can be felt. They can embody many aesthetics, as well as they can change their appearance often.

[athenalvss]

Could you write with Wally West being silly and madly in love with a girl Y/N, but every time he tries to confess, something happens (like that cliché scene where the boy is trying to confess in the middle of the hall and he ends up falling, something like this hehe)

WOULD YOU BE MY.... ( wally west! )

Summary: Wally is finally ready to face the girl he likes and tell her how he feels about her, but well, apparently fate doesn't want it that way.

pairing: Wally west x fem!reader

open request - wally west masterlist

Wally West paced the halls of Justice Tower, his heart beating faster than his feet. Every time he thought of you, the world became a little brighter, though also a little more chaotic. His mind kept going over and over in his head: Today is the day. Today I'm going to tell her how I feel.

He'd been rehearsing the speech in his head for days, searching for the perfect words to express what he thought without sounding like a complete mess. But, as always, when the time came, everything fell apart.

He stopped in front of the training room door. You were inside, adjusting the bandages on your wrists, ready for another training session after a mission, although you shouldn't have been doing so given the massive blow you'd taken. Maybe it wasn't the right time, but then again, it wasn't the right time for this kind of situation. Wally ruffled his hair a little, took a deep breath, and approached the door, determined this time would be different.

He'd been rehearsing the speech in his head for days, searching for the perfect words to let you know what he feels without sounding like a complete mess. But, as always, when the time came, everything fell apart.

This time everything would be okay. He'd tell you everything he felt for you, you'd say yes, he'd kiss you, and he'd hug you until you grew tired of him, everything would be okay this time, not like the other four times.

The first time, he'd tried it in the Tower cafeteria. He'd set out a tray of food and drinks, sat right next to you, and started a normal conversation, trying to find the right words to get it all out, but just as he started talking, Beast Boy excitedly entered the room to show off his newfound animal transformation, accidentally knocking a tray of milkshakes over Wally.

The second time, for some reason, he thought it would be a brilliant idea to say it in the middle of a mission, after you saved his life by pulling him out of the way of a giant laser beam. Nothing like a post-near-death love confession, right?

"For the love of god, are you okay, Walls?" you said, on the verge of worry.

"I'm more than fine! Because you... I... actually, there's something I want to tell you..."

And just as you were about to let him go, a ship exploded behind you, and he let out a high pitched scream like a five yeas old. Neither of you spoke of it again, but Wally knew you'd been laughing at him inside.

The third time he tried, he wrote a note, complete with little drawings and hearts; he'd even scented the paper. He discreetly left it in your locker, convinced it was his masterpiece. That was until the fire alarms went off and a large group of students ran down the hallway, sending the letter flying, leaving no chance for you to read it.

The fourth time you two were training together, he was really trying hard, really wanting to impress you, making spectacular dodges, rolling on the floor with a confident smile.

"I have to tell you something…"he began.

And right there, when you were trying to throw a punch, he slipped because he wasn't concentrating and fell backward, hitting his head on a dumbbell. Hours later, he woke up in the infirmary with a bandage on his forehead and a note from you that said: "Rest easy, silly Flash ❤️‍🩹"

He nervously shook his hands against his pants, as if that would take away his fear. This time, this time it was going to work.

He'd seen you from across the hall. You had a makeshift bandage on your forehead and a water bottle in your hand. Despite that, Wally thought you looked like the prettiest girl on the planet with that bandage and that bruise on your face.

There were no explosions. There were no drills. There were no treacherous weights. Just the two of you, and this time, he was going to tell you.

He approached with a clumsy but determined step, without running, even though everything in him told him to flee or at least make a joke to break the tension. But no. This time he was going to be direct. He was going to speak from the heart.

"Hey..." he said, with that smile of his that always appeared when he was around her, that smile accompanied by hearts in his eyes. He ran one of his hands behind his head and rubbed the back of his neck, nervously. "Do you have a second?"

You looked up with a soft smile, tiredness still etched in your eyes. "Sure, Walls. What's up?"

He stopped in front of you, and for once in his life, he managed to hold your gaze. It felt like fireworks were going off in his chest, like his hands were getting wet with anxiety, he felt his words pile up in his throat, and for the first time, they didn't stumble over each other. He was more than ready.

"I've been wanting to tell you something for a while. Something that... well, that scares me a little, but I can't keep it to myself anymore because every time I see you I feel like-"

you blink slowly, once, two, three times.

"You okay, hon?" he asked, confused by the sudden lack of response.

And before he could say or do anything else, you stumbled forward, as if the world were slipping away from under you. Wally caught you in his arms just in time.

��¡Hey! Hey, hey! No, no, no, don't do this to me! —he said, holding you with a mixture of panic and desperation.

You were unconscious. Fainted.

The blow you'd received during the mission, the improvised bandage, the exhaustion. obviously something was going to happen

And he, again, with the words on the tip of his tongue...

Damn fate

[indecisive-gm]

Jaren awoke with a start. Sitting up, they quickly looked around. The room looked like some kind of study, with scrolls and books filling the shelves along the walls. The paper walls seemed week enough; maybe they could escape from--whatever this place was--before their captors noticed.

Captors. They must be fairies, right? The last thing Jaren could remember before waking up here was going out into the forest to gather herbs and hearing a muffled voice as the forest around them faded to black. It wasn't a drug--that would have been recognizable with Jaren's experience as a healer. The darkness had been some kind of illusion magic like that which the fair folk use. They must have chosen Jaren as their next victim, having seen them come to the forest so regularly. If Jaren had been kidnapped by fairies, they would need to keep their wits about them to avoid falling further into their traps.

Tearing through the wall, Jaren was ready to make a run for it, but had to quickly stop themself from falling off a cliff. This couldn't be right, the fair folk never stray far from the forests. If her captors had taken her up into the mountains, then they couldn't be fairies. But then, who--

"It would be rather rude to run off so soon."

Jaren turned around. The building was farther back than it should have been, and a robed figure now stood only a few paces behind them. This was the person who had kidnapped them? Jaren readied a spell, hoping the old man wouldn't recognize it for the harmless show that it was. "Stay back! I've studied the magical arts well. I don't want either of us to get hurt, so don't move, and don't try to follow me."

The figure shrugged. "Alright. I'll stay right here. Though I would appreciate if you would stay and talk over coffee."

The man's words meant nothing. Even if he actually had such a rare plant as coffee, it seemed like too convenient an excuse to drug Jaren into being an easy captive to be ransomed off to the nearest magic university or to be sold to some warlord who was looking for a new mage. They backed their way to the cliffside, then jumped. They had never really wanted to go adventuring or fight in wars, so they never actually studied any flight spells or spells to soften a landing, but hopefully strenthening their bones would hold them together well enough after hitting the ground to mend the damage from the fall.

Thud. Fortunately, the pain of the fall was somewhat masked by having all the wind knocked out of them. The plan had worked, but as Jaren looked up, they saw that they were in the same place as before, with the man and the tower standing before them as if to mock them.

The man shook his head. "That was a rather clever use of your healing magic, though if I may ask, why didn't you simply fly away?"

"None of your business." New strategy. This time, Jaren strengthened the muscles in their legs before jumping as far as they could. Being lost in the forest wouldn't be ideal, but it would be better than being someone's prisoner to be used for money or as a weapon. As they were about to hit the ground, Jaren closed their eyes and braced for impact.

Again, they had landed back next to the tower in the mountains. "As impressive as your skills are," the old man said, "you're just going to tire yourself out like this."

Jaren was learning to hate this guy. "Let me leave, or I'll kill you!", they shouted.

The man simply stepped forward towards them. "I think we both know you won't." Jaren was stunned. "I've been looking for an apprentice for some time. Coffee does it's wonders, but eternal youth isn't one of them. And you." The man pointed a finger at Jaren's chest. "I've been very satisfied with the care you show in your magic."

"Apprentice? Who do you think you--"

"The world needs witchknights, after all." Witchknights. Jaren had taken them to just be stories for children. Masters of the magical and martial arts, some of whom had supposedly conquered vast lands or worked as advisors to powerful rulers, while others had fought against the powerful to give back to those with nothing or even abandoned the world altogether.

The man sighed. "Fine. I see you need proof." Suddenly, there was a sword stuck through Jaren's leg. The bone was still strong enough from their spell before to not be cut through, but the pain was horrible. Before they even had time to scream, a portal opened beneath them, and they fell through what must have been a layer of the underworld before landing in the open top room of the tower with various animated suits of armor pointing swords and pikes at them.

The suits of armor walked to their displays by the stairs, and the witchknight came to Jaren to help them up. Jaren was about to cast a spell to heal their leg, but felt the familiar feeling of a healing spell already taking effect on it. "You know," said the old man, "dispite the stories I'm sure you know, violence is actually a small part of being a witchknight. Now, about that coffee."

--

Finishing the mug of coffee, Jaren spoke. "So to make sure I'm understanding this, witchknights exist, and you've basically kidnapped me to get me to preserve your ancient form of the magical and martial arts?"

"That sounds about right," the man responded. "Though I would like to say, I didn't have much choice in the matter. If I were to try to teach some other mage, how do you think that would go? So many of them nowadays are too absorbed by power and where that can take them. It would be next to impossible for me to teach them, and there would be a serious risk of having a new story like those about witchknight conquerers abusing their power and ignoring the world around them."

Jaren still felt wronged by the whole situation, but this old witchknight was right about that much: A lot of Jaren's former classmates probably would have learned what they could and run off to use their abilities for power for themselves. Still, there were always calmer ones. Jaren didn't know any others who were completely pacifist, but surely the witchhunter wasn't that strained of options.

At that moment, there was a flash of light from down the stairs and the sound of someone approaching. Jaren started to get up, but the witchknight just gestured for them to remain seated. "Mjorgan! Mjorgan you bastard, where are you!", a voice called as footsteps came up the wooden steps. A tall, slender man in a suit and cape reached the top of the stairs and turned to the witchknight. "Mjorgan! There you are! I-- who is this?"

"Excellent question, Archsage!" The witchnight--Mjorgan, apparently--glanced towards Jaren. "My friend, would you like to introduce yourself?"

First a mythical witchnight, now the archsage was here? "I'm Jaren, sir... I'm Mjorgan's new apprentice." The room was silent for a moment. Moreso than when Jaren and Mjorgan had been drinking their coffee.

After a few seconds, the archsage spoke. "Well, I suppose it's about time you picked an apprentice, but why now? I've come here several times before to try to convince you to take any of the brightest mages our universities have to offer, but you choose now of all times?"

"I believe I chose the right time to do so, Alfred," Mjorgan responded. "Now, what business did you have with me? I'd like to get to lessons for my student sometime today."

"Ah, yes." The archsage gave a curt nod, showing some annoyance at his treatment by Mjorgan. "I came here to ask if you would join my advisory council for..." A glance in Jaren's direction told them not to get involved. "...necessary audience."

"It must be serious if you're coming to bother me."

"It's about her."

Mjorgan suddenly looked incredibly serious. "...Alright. I'll meet with you tomorrow morning to discuss this further." He waved his hand, and the Archsage disappeared in a puff of smoke.

With how the archsage spoke and Mjorgan's response, Jaren could tell that this was probably something very bad. "Should I know what that was about?"

The witchknight looked up at them. "No. Maybe some other time, but for the time being, it's best that you not get involved in this. Besides," he stood up and headed towards the stairs, "we need to start your training."

OK,

I didn't realize I was going to be writing so much (good prompt), but I'm probably going to need to stop here for now and hope that I can get myself to continue this story later.

witchknights are unmatched in magical and martial arts. Unlike the rest of your peers you wanted to study healing magic and medicine not war and violence. So when the witchknight chose you everyone was confused, Even the archsage himself.

[alanisstonedd]

MDNI

bum!ony that sees you walking your route to work when he starts crashing with his hb, always outside on the corner chopping it up when you stroll by minding your damn business. mad cute but wayyy outta his league. you got it all together, and he’s practically the opposite

bum!ony that swallows his pride to holla at your fine ass when you’re waiting to cross the street one day. you giggle at some one-liner he drops & he’s hooked.

bum!ony who forms a lil bond with you on the corner before it gets serious. it’s a lil routine — you giggle at him on the way to work and throw him a clever line on the way back home. he loves y’all’s lil game & is honestly happy with whatever attention you give him.

bum!ony who is so surprised when you ask him to lunch on your way home one day. he jumps at the opportunity not even tryna front like he’s not excited.

bum!ony who charms you on the date. you don’t even seem to care that he spends too much time on the corner to have a consistent job. that smile? the way he looks at you? that rough, slightly unreliable sex appeal he oozes? your guard is embarrassingly low. but what can you sayyy — he makes you feel a way. a way you’re not ready to let go of.

bum!ony who moves — in as a “friend” — when his hb gets booked. you figure, he’s not exactly a stranger & you can’t let him go homeless! he said it’d only be until he could get on his feet so it’s fine! you have the extra space, it’d be a waste basically.

bum!ony who gives you foot rubs in exchange for his laundry done - unspoken ritual of course. his hands do tend to wander tho… sneaking up to your thighs to sink his fingers in.. you just smile & do that cute snicker he likes, courtesy of the two blunts he rolled for you earlier. no clue how he’s getting all this loud since he still don’t got a J O B

bum!ony who leaves his socks in the floor just to see your pussy print when you bend over. matter fact, you catch him looking quite a lot. always “grabbing sum real quick” when you’re in the shower, “accidentally” peeking his head in your room while you’re changing for a quick question. but you appreciate how comfortable he is — taking it as a compliment to your hospitality.

bum!ony who starts rubbing on your booty whenever you bring up his unemployment. mumbling some excuse while he licks his lips at you. taking your accidental moan as the go ahead to start dragging you into him. you can never stay maddddd he’s like crack.

bum!ony who man-spreads on the couch with just his draws on. print fully out. he palms it when you walk by. dragging you into his lap for a “hug” because you look like you had a hard day apparently. he’s the best hugger tho so your happy self don’t mind. you feel a little guilty honestly - feeling like a slut for getting so wet when he was just trying to get comfy.

bum!ony who starts sleeping in your bed when the couch gets to “uncomfortable”. his big ass frame taking up half the bed. his half-chub somehow finding your booty in the middle of the night. he’s just so big, you might as well start cuddling. he’s even worse then… lowkey humping you “in his sleep”. yall end up tangled with his head smack on your tits, mouth open and snoring over your nipple.

bum!ony who gets so horny when you cook for him. which is every night bcs he doesn’t help you with shit. you end up laying on top of him making out, letting him push into you bcs you gave him blue-balls baby. duhh. he takes you back to your bed and fucks all the calories off, drilling you into the mattress like a rag doll.

bum!ony who teases you when you leave your laundry out in the living room — about your panties specifically. talking out his ass about the lil lacy thing to the point you put it on to show him how wrong he is about them. and oh is he wrong… makes you ride his face with them pulled to the side, all over the couch.

bum!ony who humps you while you wash the dishes. that’s it

bum!ony who tricks you into sex with his fine ass face after he misses another job interview. kissing all over you cuz he knows it distracts you. dicking you down sideways with a hand on your tit and more empty promises in your ear. but you don’t even hear none of it over the slapping of his hips and the squelch of your cream all over him.

bum!ony who loves when you have a bad day at work bcs you don’t ask him about a job and you fuck him like a toy. using him for that nut. your hand moves to his neck and you start fucking out the frustration you’ve built up at his bum ass. its animalistic.

bum!ony who randomly comes home with a BAG one day. like serious money. first thing he buys is some lingerie for you to model for him. might take some photos while you doing ya thang for posterity ofc.