#i wrote this instead of going to bed on time rip

[gimmethatagustd]

paint me naked | jjk

After the mysteriously hot guy in your university class starts taking an interest in you, should you really trust that he’s not like all the other college fuckboys? Especially when his best friend is the guy who broke your heart?

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (past Taehyung)

Rating: Explicit

Genre/Trope: College AU, friends to lovers, fluff, smut, light angst

Word Count: 17,025

Content Warning: Self-esteem issues, alcohol, marijuana (of course, it's a jai fic), brief mention of drug dealing, it's very "hehe I have a crush" y'know, kinda YA of me jshdfks rip, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, cunnilingus, can you tell I was a depressed poetry student in college??

A/N: This ended up being my most popular fic back in the day (lol like a year ago). I'm ngl, I don't think of it as highly as I do the other fics I've written, but this was I think the second fic I ever wrote?? Back in 2022. Crazy times. So y'know, growth and whateva. The funniest part is that probs 85% of this fic literally happened to me sjdfks. Except the "Jungkook" was only my friend and we just got stoned and vibed, and instead of painting a naked woman, one time during our studio sessions he painted an abstract rendition of my "soul" but it really just looked like a thumb I'm ngl. All my friends said he was in love with me cuz who paints portraits of someone's soul??

Soundtrack: Paint Me Naked - Ten

“Jungkook, I don’t think this is gonna work.”

“Let me try.” 

Your eyes strained to see the boy standing in front of you, but the room was pitch black. It was good, though. You’d purposefully blocked out as much light as you possibly could. It had been a surprisingly difficult feat, mostly because the two of you hadn’t thought this through very well. A rolled up towel was shoved against the bottom of the bedroom door to keep the light from the hallway out. Blackout curtains had already been drawn over the windows when you got there, so that made the window problem easier. Luckily, you’d remembered to unplug the digital clock sitting on the nightstand next to the bed, the last piece of light you could have some control over putting out. 

To make things weirder, you were in Jungkook’s parents’ room. 

“It’s the darkest room in the house!” he’d insisted and you hadn’t objected because, well, it seemed on brand for the way the entire night was going. 

With arms stretched out, your fingers pressed into something bumpy and hard. You could hear Jungkook’s breathing beside you and a light laugh alerted to you that he was much closer than you’d initially thought. After a quick prod, fingers gliding slightly upward, you realized you were grabbing his abdomen. The hard ripples you’d felt were his toned abs beneath his thin t-shirt. 

“Sorry,” you whispered, though there was no need to be quiet. Jungkook’s hands wrapped around yours and took the objects you had clutched between them: scissors and an undeveloped film roll. 

Drawing your hands back to your side, you waited in silence. The sound of metal scraping against plastic was the only sound in the room aside from the quiet rustle of wind blowing through leaves outside. You don’t think you’d ever felt silence before until that moment. It was electric, a pulsing sizzle that sparked up your fingertips and jolted into your heart as you stood beside Jungkook. The harmony your breathing had fallen into made the moment feel far more intimate than you’d expected. Why was standing in the dark with someone so intimate? 

“Fuck,” Jungkook muttered, and you heard what you imagined was him stabbing the scissors into the film. 

“Oh my god, please don’t cut yourself, okay? I don’t know where the hospital is from here.”

His only response was another quiet laugh and you knew from the sound that his nose was doing that scrunched up thing that it always did when he was making fun of you. After only a few months of knowing Jungkook he was certainly very comfortable teasing you. He was pretty comfortable with you in general, you were beginning to realize. 

And why were you here? Standing in the dark with a boy you barely knew from a shared university class, one who towered over you in height as well as being much larger than you physically. Trying to pop open film because Jungkook somehow thought you could actually develop this film without having access to a real darkroom. Sure, all throughout high school you’d taken film photography classes. You had the development process memorized by heart, from the length of time the film needed to soak to the different types of chemicals needed and what order you were supposed to submerge the prints in. You’d even emailed your old high school teacher to double check. 

But doing all of that in Jungkook’s parents’ house? You knew it wasn’t going to work, but the guy had insisted on you helping him. Was it concerning that he had all these chemicals stored in a plastic tub in his closet? Maybe. And was it the safest decision to use scissors to pop open the film instead of the proper tool (which Jungkook had forgotten to order off of Amazon in advance)? Absolutely not. 

On top of that, no one knew where you were; you’d simply told your roommates that you were going to hang out with the guy from your university poetry class. 

“Jungkook? The weird one with all the tattoos and piercings?” Your roommate, Amiriah, had asked.  

“He’s not that weird.” 

“Y/N, he wrote a poem about eating pussy for a class assignment. You said so yourself. Please tell me how that’s a normal thing to do.” 

“And didn’t he have to read it outloud to the class because he turned it in late?” Now it was time for Courtney to pipe in from her position lounging on the couch, an episode of Love Connection paused on the TV screen. 

“Okay, yes, he did do both those things. But I swear he’s actually really sweet. He’s just misunderstood.” 

Courtney had launched a pillow at you, though the object zoomed past your head and landed against the refrigerator, knocking down multiple of Amiriah’s magnets. Much to her dismay. 

“Maybe we should take a break.” 

Jungkook’s voice brought you back to reality, or at least some semblance of it. You couldn’t understand how someone could have such a soft voice. Listening to Jungkook speak was like floating on a cloud. His cadence was a gentle caress against your skin, a sound that could easily flutter your eyes and lull you to sleep. It didn’t matter what he was saying; everything sounded better coming from Jungkook’s mouth. 

You nodded, forgetting that he couldn’t see you. A few moments and a bit of shuffling later, the lights sprung on. Your eyes instantly shut and slowly pried open again from the blaring brightness. 

The poor film looked like it had been mauled by a bear, but it was still somehow intact. Jungkook slipped it into his pocket for safekeeping and turned to look at you. He had this thing about eye contact that really made you uncomfortable. When he met your gaze, he looked straight into your eyes, as if he was looking into you rather than at you. 

“Do you want a drink?” 

His question caught you off guard, but he was already picking up the towel from the floor to open the bedroom door. Without answering, you followed him through the house and into the kitchen. You stood in the doorway, hands clasped in front of you, eyes following his large frame navigating the kitchen cabinets. 

“All my parents have is rosé, is that okay?” 

He uncorked the chilled bottle and poured each of you a glass. Then he did something that your roommates could add to the list of weird things they’d developed for him. 

He sat on the floor. 

You stared at him with your lips slightly parted, unsure if you were supposed to follow him. There was an entire kitchen table with multiple chairs. Why was he sitting on the floor with his back leaned against the doorframe? Bottle of rosé sitting on the tile next to him. He looked up at you with impossibly soft doe eyes and you couldn’t just stand there with your glass. So, you slowly sank to the floor, your shoulders brushing against each other as you sat next to him. 

“Y’know, I just realized the film you have is color film.” You spoke slowly, hating that you were about to burst his bubble. “You wouldn’t be able to develop it at home, anyway. The chemicals you bought are for black and white film, and color film has to be developed using heat.” 

“Damn.” Jungkook tipped his head back to take a very deep drink of his wine. 

“We gave a valiant effort, though.” You flashed him a small smile and the grin you got in return made your face grow hot. 

Your roommates weren’t really wrong. Jungkook didn’t have the best reputation on your university campus. There were rumors that he sold drugs (marijuana and acid, specifically) and had gang affiliations. He was quiet, kept to himself, and didn’t seem to have a whole lot of friends aside from a few guys who were equally just as questionable. Yes, you knew he’d gotten arrested the day before spring break started for getting into a fight with a guy on campus, but based on what your friends had told you, it was definitely the other guy’s fault. 

You’d also heard he had great head game, but that was a whole other thing. You just had a really hard time believing all the bad things people said about him, even when he’d admitted to a lot of the rumors being true. 

“A gang tried to recruit me when I was fresh outta high school, but I like selling on my own. Can’t trust people for shit.” 

He’d said it so casually, and you wondered what was wrong with you for finding a conversation about dealing drugs attractive. 

The thing your roommates, and a lot of other people, didn’t understand was that there was more to Jungkook than whatever dumb rumors got spread around (real or not). He was an exceptional writer. His poetry weaved in elements of hip hop, almost sounding like eloquent and lyrical rap lyrics rather than your typical stuffy poem that other students in your class tried to pass off as profound. He didn’t shy away from writing about mental health, sex, relationships, and loss. Everything he put down was raw, and you liked that it made other people in the class uncomfortable. Jungkook wasn’t afraid to be himself. Wasn’t that what art was supposed to be all about? 

And he was artistic in every way. Not only did he write well, but he was obviously into photography, and he also dabbled in multimedia sculpture. But the most impressive was probably his paintings. You’d seen the work he’d posted on Instagram, and during one of your hangouts he’d told you about how he’d been commissioned by the city to work on a public mural with another local artist. 

Very few people knew these things about Jungkook. They saw the tattoos, the piercings, the occasional blunt wedged between his lips, and they painted him in a way that was so distorted it annoyed you. 

“Thanks for helping me, though. I appreciate you.” 

You bit your bottom lip into your mouth to suppress another smile, instead opting to simply nod your head and cover up any expression by taking a drink. 

At this point, the two of you had been hanging out at least once a week. Usually you just sat outside on his parents’ front porch and smoked and talked about life. His parents seemed to always be out of town, and although Jungkook lived across the hall from you in the university dorms, he stayed at his parents’ house a lot to take care of their dog. 

It felt weird, though, hanging out with Jungkook. It was like all your interactions could only happen during those moments; otherwise, he didn’t talk to you when you saw him around campus. Even in your advanced poetry class, he would lock eyes with you across the room, but he never said a word. 

And it didn’t help that he was best friends and roommates with Kim Taehyung, the campus casanova who’d fucked you like you were the only girl in the world for an entire semester until you saw him cuddled up at a party with some other girl who didn’t even go to your university. The next day he was standing at your dorm asking for his skateboard back, weaving some lie about how summer break was the time to be single and have fun, but that he would “never forget” the fun times you’d had. 

Then Taehyung got a girlfriend. 

So maybe you were a little bit bitter over how things ended with Taehyung (and maybe you’d spent the entire summer crying yourself to sleep at night and aimlessly scrolling through Tinder, looking for anyone who might replace him and finding nothing). But the worst part was knowing that Taehyung had probably talked to Jungkook about you, and you had no idea what he might have said. 

“Hopefully the film is still okay,” you said after a moment, trying to pull yourself out of the cyclical negative thoughts you were often consumed by. 

You finished your glass, shaking your head at Jungkook’s offer for more rosé. He nodded, pushing himself up to stand and reached out to take your empty glass. 

You watched him from the floor as he washed the glasses in the sink. Your eyes lingered just a bit too long on the way his forearm muscles flexed while he cleaned, a few veins popping out along the back of his hands and the inside of his arm. Tattoos and piercings hadn’t ever been your thing, not that you didn’t appreciate the allure of body modifications. You’d just found yourself going after boys who looked polished, good boys to take home to mom. Jungkook had been the one to initiate your friendship, asking to hang out while you worked on your poems or read the many poetry collections due for class. You’d be a liar if you said his sudden interest in you hadn’t sparked your own interest in him.

Just one glass of wine was enough to make you a bit lightheaded, and Jungkook was a heavy pourer, apparently. 

“You good?” 

You blinked and stared into Jungkook’s face. He was drying off his hands now, watching you with an amused look on his face. 

“Umm, yeah. Just a lightweight,” you said with a breathy laugh that sounded a little too forced for your liking. Jungkook didn’t seem to notice. 

“You wanna go to my studio with me? The one on campus?” 

You looked down at your phone, a few text messages popping up from your roommates demanding to know where you were. Swiping to clear the notifications, you looked up at Jungkook and gave him a small smile. 

“Sure.” 

-

“That thing so fire baby, no propane. Got good pussy, girl, can I be frank? To keep it 100, girl, I ain’t no saint.” 

Music came blaring out of the car’s speakers at an alarmingly high volume, causing you to exhale a startled shout. Jungkook quickly lunged to turn down the volume and accidentally honked the car’s horn when his shoulder leaned against the steering wheel. 

“Shit, sorry.” 

“Talk about fucking sensory overload, fuck,” you mumbled, heart still dazed in your chest. 

“It was actually nice outside for once. I was whippin’ with the windows down, so the music’s gotta be louder.” 

All he was getting from you was rolled eyes and the sound of your seatbelt clicking into place. 

Jungkook turned around to look over his shoulder as he backed out of the driveway. He grabbed onto the back of your seat to position himself; once again, you found yourself eyeing his arms, exploring the exposed tattoos. It kind of pissed you off how hot it was when guys drove backwards. What was evolutionarily advantageous about that attraction? 

“If you wanna change it, I got a couple CDs.” 

Jungkook motioned to the middle console. You flipped through them, finding the album that was currently playing. You’d recognize it anywhere; he was one of your favorite musicians. 

“Bryson Tiller?” You turned the CD case over in your hand, eyes scanning the tracklist on the back. “You listen to sex music while you drive? And off a CD instead of Bluetooth, no less?”

Jungkook barked out a laugh, all teeth and crinkled eyes that you could just barely make out as the streetlights streaked over his face. 

“Yeah, I guess I do. You got a problem with Bryson?” His fingers lazily tapped against the steering wheel to the relaxed beat of Don’t - which happened to be your favorite song on the album. “This car is twenty-one years old. You’re lucky we’re not sitting here listening to cassettes.” 

“Who doesn’t like Bryson Tiller? That’s the baby-making music of our generation,” you said with a laugh. “Honestly, I can’t believe this song came out in fuckin’ 2015. Why does that feel like such a long time ago?” 

Jungkook sat in the driver’s seat with his legs spread as much as possible; this position was what had made you realize just how thick and nice his thighs really were. Plus, he drove with one hand on top of the steering wheel, left elbow bent slightly. He usually let his right hand rest against his thigh, though sometimes he held onto the gear shift in between the two of you. 

There was rarely any traffic in your college town, and especially not at 10pm on a Tuesday night. The two of you fell silent, Bryson Tiller’s soulful lyrics swirling through the car in the absence of conversation. Jungkook was typically a man of few words. You’d grown accustomed to carrying the conversation. With most people, that would have bothered you, but with Jungkook it was different. You knew he was paying attention when you talked; you could see it in the way the corners of his mouth twitched when you said something dorky (which was, apparently, all the time). 

And when he did have something to say, it was always worth the wait. 

“You’ve got good taste,” Jungkook said after driving a few blocks. “Guess I should probably add him to my sex playlist.”

Before you had time to process his comment Jungkook was pulling into the east parking lot of your university, the part of campus that was off to the side and only held art-related facilities. 

He led you to an unmarked backdoor of the building closest to the parking lot. Pushing the door open, he held it for you with a sweep of his hand. 

“Ladies first, noona.” 

Scowling at the honorific, you still obliged, entering a long hallway. The walls were bare, just an eggshell white, a few black scuff marks here and there, as if someone had been carrying something large and struggled to fit it through the narrow space. Jungkook maneuvered past you to lead the way to another unmarked door. 

The studio was a lot larger than you expected. One side of the room had a large rack of painted canvases to dry. You turned to inspect the left side of the room, finding multiple easels with additional canvases of varying sizes, most blank or seemingly half-finished. A rather worn-looking couch was placed in the middle of the room. Beside it was a coffee table and a Bluetooth speaker. (So Jungkook did know about modern technology.) Paint-covered tarps protected much of the concrete floor, and there were paint buckets and other supplies scattered in every corner. The entire room was pure chaos, but it seemed like there was an organization to it that only Jungkook knew. 

“So… yeah. This is my studio.” Jungkook closed the door behind you and locked it. 

Your heart skipped a beat at his action, but you swallowed down the spike of fear that had threatened to bubble up inside of you. You’d spent plenty of alone time with Jungkook. There was nothing to worry about. 

“I had to practically beg the school to let me have my own space since I’m not an art major, but they eventually let up,” Jungkook continued with a shrug. 

You were impressed, honestly. Jungkook wasn’t known for being the most reliable student academically; it was surprising they’d given him such privileges. 

“I like it,” you said simply, eyes still roaming the space. You weren’t sure what you were supposed to do now. Studio art wasn’t really your thing, poetry was. 

Luckily, Jungkook had a knack for reading your mind. 

“You can sit on the couch if you want. I got a project due tomorrow morning, so I’m gonna work on it. But if you wanna paint, just lemme know.” He scrolled through his phone as he spoke, and eventually more R&B music started playing from the speaker. 

“Tomorrow morning? JK, it’s fucking 10:30.” 

You stared at him with your head tilted to the side in disbelief, but you were only met with another shrug and a grin. Living on the edge. King of Procrastination, Jeon Jungkook. You were already getting secondhand stress. 

With a quiet hum to himself as the music took over, it was clear to you that Jungkook had switched to his serious side. He began prepping one of his easels with various paint brushes and paints. Dragging a heavy-looking but small filing cabinet next to the easel, he used the surface to store his supplies while he worked. 

You flopped onto the couch, adjusting so you could have a clear view of Jungkook. He looked cute in his jeans and black hoodie, a blunt pencil tucked behind his ear. His lips pouted slightly as he planned what he was going to do with his painting. Occasionally the pencil would be plucked from his ear and a few sketches appeared on the canvas, too light for you to see what they were from your position on the couch. 

The vibration of your phone tore your eyes away from Jungkook’s figure. It was no surprise that your roommate group text was blowing up. 

Courtnayyy 😘 [10:00] BITCH WHERE ARE YOU A Mili Amiriah 👑 [10:01] pls tell me the weirdo didn’t murder u Courtnayyy 😘 [10:04] If he did can I have your Mac Miller poster?  A Mili Amiriah 👑 [10:15] court how tf would she approve of that if she’s dead? she ain’t gonna see this shit Courtnayyy 😘 [10:18] Ouija board A Mili Amiriah 👑 [10:25] stfu 🔫 A Mili Amiriah 👑 [10:25] Y/N you better answer ur fucking phone right now A Mili Amiriah 👑 [10:40] hellooooooooooooooooooo

You let out a sigh loud enough for Jungkook to look over at you, eyebrows furrowed. 

“My roommates think you killed me.”

Jungkook grinned and turned back to his easel with a shake of his head. You’d expected him to say something, but then the reminder that Jungkook was… unconventional slithered into your mind. 

[10:45] I’m alive. Can you pls stop blowing up my phone now? 💀 Courtnayyy 😘 [10:46] FUCKING FINALLY  A Mili Amiriah 👑 [10:47] what are you doing?? [10:50] We’re just hanging out at his studio. I’ll probably leave soon

You tossed your phone next to you on the couch and lifted your arms into the air to stretch. It was rather warm in the studio and the smooth music of whatever playlist Jungkook had on was making you feel sleepy. What kind of lame college student were you? 

“I was serious about what I said.” Jungkook didn’t look at you while he painted, too focused on mixing the right shade of brown. 

“About what?”

“You can paint if you want. All the paint and brushes are in the cabinet.” 

You chewed on your bottom lip, eyes flitting from the filing cabinet next to Jungkook to the easel off to the side with a blank canvas. What if whatever you painted looked like shit? You had no idea what you were doing. 

But when did you ever get to paint in your adult life?

Pushing yourself off the couch you approached Jungkook to start rummaging in the drawers for supplies. You were stopped in your tracks, however, the moment your eyes landed on his painting. Considering that much time hadn’t passed, Jungkook was far along in his work. You came face to face with a woman, or at least the naked body of a woman. She was painted in soft earthy tones, curves accentuated by what looked like a gold silk ribbon that wrapped around her. The painting was certainly abstract because she was missing a head and her limbs weren’t finished, but just having her strong torso and thighs, and a long regal neck, somehow made her feel complete. 

“That’s beautiful, JK. She looks so realistic… How can you do all those little details so quickly?” You spoke quietly, desperately wishing you could touch the canvas. 

“Painting nudity is easy.” Another classic Jungkook shrug. “That’s why it’s so overdone. There’s nothing more beautiful than humans in their purest state, right? We’re the original art.” 

You would have never considered nudity to be pure, but you liked Jungkook’s analysis. Society saw nudity as all about sex. Despite his depiction of breasts and genitalia, Jungkook’s painting was a reflection and appreciation of a body. 

You wondered if it was anyone’s body in particular. 

The thought soured your mood a bit, and you quickly returned your focus to finding the supplies you needed. Satisfied, you took up the easel beside Jungkook. What the fuck were you going to paint? Especially now that you had this beautiful work blooming next to you. 

“Don’t think about it so much. Just go for it.” 

There was Jungkook reading your mind again. 

You weren’t sure how much time passed with the two of you working silently. At first you’d considered doing something abstract, but eventually you felt compelled to do something a bit more realistic. You’d retrieved your phone (ignoring your roommates’ texts again) to pull up a photo for reference as you painted. 

After a while Jungkook lifted his finished painting and carried it to the rack to dry. By the time he had completed his painting, you were putting your final touches on yours - one that was far more simplistic. You found it entertaining, though. 

“Who is that?” 

You’d been so absorbed in getting those final details perfected that you hadn’t noticed Jungkook standing right behind you. You jumped slightly and that elicited a chuckle from the boy. 

“It’s a portrait of Bad Bunny.” Your greatest celebrity crush. 

“He’s cute. You did a good job considering you looked so scared to start.” His comment left your cheeks burning. You’d hoped it hadn’t been so obvious, but Jungkook was too observant for his own good (and for yours, too). “Maybe I should hire you as my assistant.”

“Thanks. It’s not as good as yours, though.” 

Jungkook waved you off and the action made him realize he had a good amount of paint on his hands. Rather than find a towel, he simply rubbed his hands against his thighs. You watched him, eyes lingering on the way his thighs stretched the tight material of his jeans. Looking up to return to his face you were met with a smirk. You were doing a real shitty job at being subtle, apparently. 

You chose not to say anything and focused your attention on finishing your painting, not wanting Jungkook to be waiting for you longer than he needed to. He sat down on the couch, now distracted by his phone. 

“So,” you spoke as you lifted up your finished painting, following Jungkook’s instructions to put it on the drying rack. “What was the inspiration for your painting?” 

Was it a bold question? You were trying to play it off like you weren’t going to cling to whatever his answer was. 

Jungkook patted the space next to him to encourage you to sit down. Once you were sitting next to him, your body turned slightly to face him, Jungkook leaned forward. His face was mere inches from yours and you could feel his breath tickle your cheek. He watched you with those brown doe eyes, such an innocent feature on an otherwise devious-looking face. The smirk that formed on his lips strongly contrasted the sweetness of his eyes. 

Jungkook’s tongue poked out to play with his lip ring before he answered your question. It was impossible to look away from his lips, and you thought you felt your heart stop. 

“The deadline.” 

The smirk grew deeper as he pulled away, running a hand through his hair. You were more than disappointed, feeling yourself deflate and finally realizing you’d been holding your breath. Your shoulders slumped slightly, but you managed to mask the reason for your disappointment by pretending you were disappointed in him. 

“Boy, you need to work on your assignments earlier so you can come up with something good,” you huffed, crossing your arms against your chest. 

“Was it not good?” He grinned, a cocky twinkle in his eyes, no longer doe-shaped but narrowed in mirth. “Come on, let me drop you off. It’s almost 2.” 

“Fuck, I have an 8am.” 

With a quick check on your phone you saw that it was indeed almost 2am. How had you spent almost four hours in the studio without realizing it? Nevermind the fact that you’d spent another three or four hanging out with Jungkook before you’d even gotten to the studio. 

“I’d skip if I was you.” 

Jungkook led you through the art building and to his car, making sure that the music didn’t startle you half to death when he started the car this time. 

“Unlike you, I’m a good student, thanks.” 

It wasn’t a terrible dig because you knew Jungkook enough to know he didn’t give a shit. All he’d do was give you a small smile and melt your heart with the confusion of how it was possible for someone to look both so soft and so dangerous. 

Your dorm was on the other side of campus, so the drive over was quick. But rather than drop you off at the sidewalk, Jungkook pulled into the parking lot, much to your surprise. 

“I thought you were staying over at your parents’?” 

Jungkook kept the car running, but he unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned back in his chair.

“Me and Tae are gonna go smoke. I got this new strain of indica we wanna try.”

He didn’t look at you when he spoke, instead facing forward to peer out the window. Once he brought up weed, you realized you could smell the remnants of weed smoke in Jungkook’s car, partially masked by air freshener. 

At the mention of Jungkook’s roommate you felt your stomach drop. The feeling was only intensified when you followed Jungkook’s gaze to see a figure with long legs and broad shoulders make their way down the sidewalk, heading right in your direction. You felt ice shoot through your veins and panic settle into your chest. 

“Oh,” you squeaked out. You needed to escape, but you couldn’t force your hands to unbuckle yourself and open the door. 

“Do you wanna come with us?” Jungkook took your lack of movement as a desire to get high. 

You looked at Jungkook with an open mouth, but nothing came out. And even if you could speak, Taehyung was already flinging the car door open. 

“Oh, shit, Y/N. I didn’t even see you there.” Taehyung leaned against the car door, eyes sweeping over your small figure as you attempted to look as relaxed as possible. 

Did he lick his lips or were you just imagining that? 

“Want me to sit in the back?” 

Taehyung leaned down so he could poke his head into the car and talk to Jungkook right over you. The position gave you a perfect view of his neck and his collarbones peeking out from beneath the silk button-up shirt he was wearing, the first few buttons undone as usual. His cologne smelled like cedar and you could faintly smell something fruity, likely the strawberry-flavored vape he smoked. 

All of that was enough to send you mentally screaming into the void. 

“ThanksJungkookIgottago,” you sputtered, doing your best not to touch Taehyung as you moved around him to get out.

“Y/N!” 

You ignored Jungkook’s call, not daring to look back. Despite your exhaustion you took the stairs two at a time until you made it to your dorm, nearly dropping your keys as you unlocked the door. The kitchen and living room were dark, so you knew your roommates were asleep - or at least in their own rooms. You didn’t even bother to do your nighttime routine, opting to strip down to your underwear and collapse into your bed face-first. 

Darkness and silence brought you no solitude; quite honestly, they had the opposite effect. All you had in your head was Taehyung’s face… in your ears, his voice… in your nostrils, his smell. 

Groaning, you flipped onto your back and grabbed your phone to put on your favorite thunderstorm white noise playlist. In the middle of picking the perfect sound, your phone buzzed with a text. 

Jungkook (Poetry) [2:15] you good?

You bit your lip, not wanting to leave him hanging so late, but also knowing if you went down this rabbithole you’d never fall asleep. 

[2:16] I’m fine

Your phone vibrated almost immediately, but you forced yourself to put it away. Whatever Jungkook had to say could wait until the morning. Or until never, because right now you never wanted to speak to another human ever again.

-

Jungkook (Poetry) [2:16] you don’t have to lie to me Jungkook (Poetry) [3:02] lying destroys our intrinsic value as human beings by corrupting our ability to make rational choices and have free will Jungkook (Poetry) [3:03] immanuel kant said that

You didn’t realize you’d be hit with a philosophical lecture the moment you woke up, but then you remembered that Jungkook had gone smoking with Taehyung. The two of them got all philosophical when they were high, as if they really could achieve some kind of superior knowledge. 

They were idiots. 

“Oh my god, when the fuck did you get home last night?” 

Anyone speaking that loud and harshly so early in the morning was an assailant. You glared at Courtney, brushing past her to get to the bathroom. You shouldn’t have been surprised that the girl stayed outside the bathroom door as she waited for you to finish. 

“It was definitely after 1am ‘cause that’s when we went to bed,” she kept on talking even when you turned the shower on. “What could you guys have possibly been doing that whole time? Did you hook up?” 

“No.”

“What?” Courtney strained to hear you over the sound of the high-pressure water. 

“I said, no!” 

It was ridiculous that you were standing there, rubbing your naked body down with lavender exfoliating soap, while you discussed your alleged hook up with a guy you barely knew. 

You thanked the Lord Almighty that your schedule didn’t line up with your roommates on Wednesdays, or else you would have had to suffer Courtney and Amiriah’s interrogations the whole day. 

Instead you sleepily dragged yourself through two morning classes and a work shift at the university library before you’d eventually have to face Jungkook head-on. 

-

Your Advanced Poetry class was small enough that all the students could sit around a large table together. The small, intimate class size made it easier for collaboration and made workshops feel a bit less ruthless. You’d gotten to the point that you could read anonymous poems from each of your classmates and know exactly who wrote what. You were like a little family who met every Wednesday evening for two hours and poured your thoughts, dreams, fears, and goals into each other with every written piece. This class was going to be what broke your heart when the semester was over; you could already feel yourself missing it. 

“Alright, y’all, we’re going to workshop the imitation poems from the exercise last week.”

You felt your heart drop to the pit of your stomach. Whatever else Professor Mendez was saying didn’t compute; she sounded like she was speaking underwater and all you could do was shift your eyes to look at Jungkook across the table from you. You hadn’t expected him to be already looking at you nor for him to hold your gaze until you quickly looked away. 

The poem you’d written for the exercise was about Taehyung. 

You’d thought only your professor was ever going to see it. And now she was calling on you to read yours aloud first. No one else would know who it was about, but you knew Jungkook would know. 

“Y/N?” 

Professor Mendez looked at you, her star pupil, with an encouraging smile. You swallowed, avoiding Jungkook’s gaze though you felt him staring. If you kept the piece of paper on the table in front of you, you wouldn’t risk showing everyone that your hands were slightly trembling. And then you opened your mouth. 

I SAW YOU ONCE IN A FEVER DREAM  (After Kaveh Akbar) I saw you once in a fever dream shirtless  swaddling me in a hammock hanging from cedar trees   When you smoke it gets stuck   in your hair Save it for later The smell of marijuana   and strawberry vapes     lingered in my clothes     In another fever   dream you were my mother The doctor asked if I am  allergic to any medications and I should   have said yes but it is only you   I have felt love flow through me I have never felt   it given My friend once told me  there is only so much you can do   At what point am I the problem   Sometimes I stare at the wall and peel the nails  off of my fingers for every time you broke me  Somehow it feels better this way  

It was depressing, pathetic even. Sure, you’d imitated Kaveh Akbar’s unique writing style to a T, but now you looked stupid for writing about a man you’d never even dated, who had unofficially “dumped” you last spring semester. Jungkook had to know. Unless he was completely oblivious (which was honestly likely, when you really thought about it). And maybe you were being too cocky, assuming some guy who you meant nothing to would care or even pay attention to the fact that his friend had fucked you into a broken heart. 

You sat with tight lips as the class discussed your poem, a few people put off by your use of space on the page, others praising your unique way of formatting the stanzas. Jungkook never spoke, but he never did until the end of class when Professor Mendez called him out for being silent. Then he would provide feedback for whoever had gone before him, his opinion usually directly contradicting whatever your professor said. She knew he wasn’t being defiant, and she welcomed his creative challenge of the status quo. But sometimes he was a bit much. 

“Well, Mr. Jungkook. Let’s hear yours.” 

You could feel the entire room both tense and lean forward, as if scared but also unimaginably eager for whatever it was they were about to receive. 

“I didn’t finish, but I can read what I have. It’s a prose poem.” 

UNTITLED I met her in the evaporated residue of a midnight bong rip. Among glimmers of artificially-simulated worlds, of over-saturated hues. Hurried hues of a purple-pink bruise, bloom, slippery between thighs. Tongue flicks. Slide. These things only happen behind closed doors. An eternity of almosts, she likes to wear my hand as a choker. Drag me whole into desire, into pink folds and broken promises. Drip slick slow stroke glide and move inside, eat feast thrive. Beat it up every time. Pulsate. Pulsate. Own it. My hands on your hips. Blindfold over your eyes. Selfish fuck. I am a decomposing mind; her body whispers otherwise. 

Jungkook could have written a poem about dog shit and the way he recited it would have been breathtaking. It didn’t matter that his lines were verging on pornographic for an academic setting; simply the way the alliteration flowed like honey from his mouth was enough to send shivers down anyone’s spine. The words came out like a gentle lullaby of filth, a smooth mantra, a promise of sin. It was no wonder the classroom fell silent. Even Professor Mendez stared at Jungkook with an unreadable expression on her face. 

“Thank you, Jungkook,” she said after a moment. 

He nodded politely and slouched into his seat again. 

Professor Mendez looked around the room for the first volunteer to take a stab at critiquing Jungkook’s poem. Only a brave soul could manage, and you were determined to keep your mouth shut. You could already visualize the way your classmates were going to gossip about this once class was over. You wondered how long it would take for Courtney and Amiriah to find out. 

“Who would like to go first?” 

It appeared the class had very few critiques, likely because no one wanted to dive too deeply into the abstract and overtly-sexual writing that had been. 

Professor Mendez went on a mini rant about the importance of knowing how to keep the flow of a prose poem that somehow derailed into a story about her new puppy. Perhaps someone had gotten her going to kill the last few minutes of class until it was 8pm and she was forced to let the group of you go into the night. 

You always managed to be the last person leaving the classroom every Wednesday night. Usually it was due to your prolonged conversations with Professor Mendez, the two of you gushing over a new poetry collection or the latest episode of a TV show. Jungkook, on the other hand, was typically the first to leave. Likely to go find his little crew of delinquents to do drugs with or whatever else they got themselves into. 

Except apparently not today. 

As you waved a goodbye to Professor Mendez, you headed down the empty hallway fully aware of the second pair of shoes echoing in the silence along with yours. Your insides were still scrambled from the series of exceptionally unfortunate events that had involved Kim Taehyung in the past twenty-four hours. You had no desire to entertain Jungkook, especially not after him staring you down all of class. And reading that fucking poem. 

“Are you really gonna ignore me?” 

You squeezed the straps of your backpack and stopped in front of the door to leave the academic building. If you acted bothered it would make you more suspicious. And it would let Kim Taehyung continue to rule your mind. You were better than this… 

So you turned around to face the doe-eyed boy and tried not to imagine his hand squeezing your throat. 

“I’m not ignoring you.” You cocked your head to one side in feigned confusion. Jungkook met your look with a small pout. 

“I’m sorry if I did something to upset you yesterday.” 

So, he didn’t know. Either that, or he was lying. But didn’t Immanuel Kant say lying is bad? You did everything in your power not to scowl to yourself. 

“I’m fine, Jungkook. I swear.” You let out an irritated sigh, casting a glance behind your shoulder as you heard thunder ripple through the air outside. You’d obviously forgotten to check the weather that morning, looking down at your t-shirt and shorts. 

“Okay…” He eyed you skeptically, but he didn’t want to push you further and threaten pushing you away completely. “Can I walk with you?” 

“Of course.” He lived literally across the hall from you. You could open your door and be face-to-face with his. 

“Okay… Can I give you a hug?” 

You rolled your eyes so far and deep inside your skull it was a surprise they didn’t detach and disappear somewhere. It wasn’t fair that you were taking out your frustrations on Jungkook simply because your ego was hurt. That self-awareness was what made you nod your head with your arms outstretched. 

Jungkook enveloped you in his large frame, the side of your face pressed against his chest. One of his arms wrapped around your waist, and he held the back of your head in his free hand. There was something about Jungkook’s closeness that caught you off guard. Perhaps it was because this was the first time you’d ever hugged each other; you’d never been this physical with each other at all, actually. You weren’t much of the hugging type, anyway. 

Jungkook’s warmth made you settle into his embrace for much longer than you’d expected. He felt soft, safe. Even the chemical smell of paint that had seeped into his hoodie was welcoming. Despite the rumbling of a heavy thunderstorm outside, you could still hear his heart beat beneath you. Something about that realization made you pull away from him suddenly. It was just too… close. 

He stared at you with a wrinkled brow and the pout was slowly coming back, but he stayed silent. You couldn’t meet his eyes. 

“Ready?”

 With raised shoulders you braced yourself for the downpour. 

By the time the two of you had sprinted across the courtyard, you were completely soaked. You felt your earlier frustrations melt with the water droplets gliding down your arms as you leaned against Jungkook’s equally-soaked body. He was nearly doubled over in laughter, shoulder pressed against the wall next to the front door of his dorm room. 

“You look like a wet cat,” he teased. 

“Oh yeah? Well you look like a wet dog.” Your poor hair was going to get embarrassingly frizzy if you didn’t take care of it immediately. 

Jungkook flashed you an evil grin and violently shook his head, sending water spraying all over. 

“Jungkook, stop!” you hollered, giving him a shove. “I feel so gross already.” 

You twisted around to fish out your dorm key from your backpack, but your fingers scraped the bottom of the pocket. No key. 

“Fuck,” you cursed, setting your backpack on the ground to search through more pockets. Giving up on that possibility, you checked the pockets of your shorts. Nothing. 

Unlocking your phone, your thumb hovered over your roommate group text, unsure if you should interrupt Amiriah and Courtney. It was a little after 8pm… Both of your roommates would be in their weekly sorority meeting that usually lasted at least an hour, if not two. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“I… locked myself out.” What a fucking rookie mistake. What was this, freshman year? “I’m pretty sure I left my keys on the kitchen table.” 

Now you were stranded in your hallway, cold and soaking wet. You could go downstairs to ask your RA to let you in, but she was a bitch. 

“You’re a mess. Come on, I’ve got clothes for you.” 

He didn’t give you the opportunity to protest; instead, he stepped inside his dorm without even so much as a look over his shoulder at you. 

Apparently your desire to be warm and dry was stronger than your fear of entering the Dorm Room from Hell. You’d never been in Jungkook’s dorm before, mostly because you didn’t want to run into Taehyung. 

The layout was the same as yours: full kitchen with adjacent living room, long hall with individual bedrooms that ended with a bathroom. The decorations practically screamed “guys who smoke weed” considering the giant marijuana leaf tapestry hanging in the living room and the multicolored string lights that hung on the ceiling casting a psychedelic glow throughout the dorm. An incense that smelled interestingly like the ocean was burning on the coffee table. 

You were pretty sure burning incense wasn’t allowed on university property. Then again, neither was smoking weed in the parking lot, but Jungkook and his roommates did whatever they wanted. 

“Are you just gonna stand there or…?” 

Jungkook led the way down the hall, you trailing a bit behind him as you continued being nosy. As you passed the first bedroom, the door suddenly swung open, causing you to yelp when you were face-to-face with a rather grumpy looking man with shockingly green hair. The bleary look of his eyes told you he’d been asleep. 

“Why the fuck are you wet?” 

You did a double take, shocked at the roughness of the question from a stranger. Before you could answer, Jungkook was pulling you forward by the wrist. 

“Hyung, I went to the grocery store today. There’s tangerines on the counter.” 

The green-haired roommate grumbled a thank you and shot straight to the kitchen. 

“Just ignore Yoongi,” Jungkook whispered, stopping in front of his bedroom. “He’s a fifth-year senior and probably ready to burn the entire university down.” 

Jungkook’s bedroom was the exact opposite of what you’d expected. After seeing the chaos of his art studio, you’d thought his bedroom would be much of the same. Instead you were met with a simple, organized room. No clutter, no mess. Everything had its place, not an art supply in sight. Peaking over his shoulder, you saw even his dresser drawers were organized, each article of clothing neatly folded. That was likely why Jungkook was able to quickly pick out a t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts to hand you. 

“Oh, and this,” he tossed you a towel, as well. “You can use the bathroom. I’ll be in here.” 

“Thank you,” you said with an appreciative nod. 

The skin on your fingers had wrinkled up from the rain and you pressed them into the towel to find some relief. Who knew the feeling of wearing dry clothes would be so sweet? You took your time in the bathroom, rubbing down every inch of your body. Unfortunately, even your underwear and bra were soaked. If you put on dry clothes over them, the water would surely bleed into the fabric. So you opted for going commando, to your dismay. At least Jungkook’s t-shirt was baggy enough that your chest wasn’t on full display, and it wasn’t like anyone would know you weren’t wearing underwear. 

You caught a look at yourself in the mirror and laughed at how ridiculous you looked. It was like you’d come out of a really bad hip-hop music video from the early 2000s, literally drowning in baggy clothes. 

“Hey Jungkook… Do you have something I could put my clothes in?” You stood in the hallway in front of Jungkook’s bedroom, wet clothes in your hands. The door was closed and you were afraid of opening it if he was still changing. 

“You look cute.” 

You instinctively squeezed your bundle of clothes, turning your head to the side at the sound of that Mother. Fucking. Annoying. Ass. Voice. 

Taehyung raised an eyebrow at you, probably utterly confused as to why you looked the way you did, standing there in his dorm. You were determined to give him absolutely nothing. 

“So, you and Jungkook, huh?” 

A small smirk twisted at the corners of his mouth. By the way he was standing with his hands in the pockets of his jeans, it was clear that he wasn’t planning on walking away. 

“We just got back from class,” you said matter-of-factly. 

You focused on a spot on the wall to the right of his head when you spoke; it made it easier to look at him without having to stare into his eyes. Even though you found absolutely nothing about your statement funny, Taehyung started laughing. It was a low chuckle that brought that stupid smirk out even more. 

“Were you coming back from class at 2 o’clock this morning, too?” 

His eyes glinted with something that made a shiver shoot down the length of your spine. 

Luckily, Jungkook’s abrupt presence swinging the bedroom door open gave you and Taehyung someone else to focus on, and you could safely escape the fact that you didn’t have a witty comeback to shove in Taehyung’s face for teasing you about Jungkook. There was nothing there with Jungkook.  

He just gave nice hugs. And you respected his creative mind. And he had great taste in music. And you felt a little bit bad for him because people didn’t seem to give him the chances he deserved. And, wow, he was standing in the doorway of his bedroom wearing form-fitting gray sweatpants that sat low on his hips and you could tell that they sat low because he was shirtless. And your eyes were skipping down the path that his happy trail was leading from his belly button down to the strings of his sweatpants that hung down just on top of where you could make out a slight bulge in the fabric. 

“Y/N?” 

You quickly tore your eyes from Jungkook’s crotch to look at his face, not missing the way Taehyung’s smirk was growing even wider. You opened your mouth, then looked down at your clothes, then back at Jungkook. 

“She wants something to put her clothes in,” Taehyung admitted once it was clear you weren’t going to cooperate. “I’m going over to Natalie’s. Oh, and I dipped into your Trojan stash. Yoongi hyung didn’t have any and you have too many.” 

He flashed Jungkook a grin and pushed himself from his leaning position on the wall. 

“Have fun,” he offered over his shoulder as he walked away, heading to go fuck his girlfriend’s brains out. 

You were going to throw up. 

“What a fucking asshole,” you breathed through gritted teeth. 

Rather than be surprised at your cursing, Jungkook gave you a sympathetic look as he took your wet clothes from you to put in a small duffle bag. 

“I’m sorry…” he said after a moment, gesturing for you to step into his bedroom. He closed the door behind you and hopped onto his bed. Just as he’d done in the studio, he patted the space next to him to get you to sit with him. 

“C’mere.” 

“Jungkook, I don’t wanna bother you anymore. You’ve had to deal with me a lot the past 24 hours.” 

“Do I look bothered?”

You gave the boy a tight shake of your head and clambered onto the bed beside him, careful to sit hunched over a bit so your chest wouldn’t be too obvious. For once, he no longer smelled like paint. Instead your senses were overwhelmed by the strong scent of his laundry detergent, something akin to the ocean breeze of the incense the roommates were burning in the living room. He leaned his back against the headboard, but he turned at an angle to look at you from the side. 

“He told me about you two…” 

You felt your body stiffen at his confession and Jungkook rushed to finish his thought. 

“Not the details or anything. But just that you were hooking up.” 

Great. This was perfect. Leave it to Taehyung to treat you like a secret yet blabber to his friends. You hadn’t even told any of your friends about Taehyung. To this day, Courtney and Amiriah had no idea. And could you even trust Jungkook when he said the details were spared? Didn’t boys love to talk about their sexual conquests? 

“I’m sorry he’s such a fuckboy.” 

“Oh, like you aren’t, too?” 

“What?!” 

Jungkook stared at you incredulously, shocked by your sudden aggression. But you couldn’t stop yourself. The anger you’d let fester in you from countless boys quite literally fucking you over was all spilling over the top. It was just unfortunate that Jungkook was there to bear the weight rather than Taehyung; but you didn’t think he was wholly innocent either. College boys were entitled and selfish. Even though Jungkook had never done anything to you, you’d seen how some girls followed after him like he was some kind of mystery meant to be solved. He never explicitly talked about his love life with you, but you only took that as a bad sign. 

“Oh don’t act brand new, Jungkook. You literally make everything about sex. Literally all your poems are about eating pussy. You made that fucking painting of a naked women. And what the fuck is that?” 

Your arm shot out to point at a painting hanging on his wall that looked vaguely like an abstract rendition of a vulva. It somehow felt like the icing on the fucked up cake. 

“It’s called artistic appreciation!”

“You’re just as gross as Taehyung and all the other guys who just use women for their bodies and don’t give a fuck about how we feel or-”  

“Stop it.” Jungkook’s voice hit you like ice. You dropped your arm down and whipped your head back around to look at him, lips falling open at the harshness of his tone. 

“Don’t compare me to Tae. You don’t know what I’m like. You barely know me at all.” 

“That’s not-” 

“I said stop, okay?” he interjected again and the glare he sent you was enough to shut you up for good. Being scolded wasn’t exactly high on your list of favorite activities, especially not from someone you considered to be a friend. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire and you struggled to swallow down your words, shame creeping up your face in waves.

“I’ve spent the last four months in that poetry class watching you write about feeling broken and alone and misunderstood. And you know what I do? I invite you over to do homework ‘cause I know none of your other friends are studying English. And I asked you to go to Morgan Parker’s book reading with me ‘cause I knew you didn’t have anyone else to go with. And I invited you to my studio ‘cause you said you wish you were good at art and I wanted you to see that you could be good if you tried.” 

At this point his cheeks had turned bright pink and his hands were bunched up into fists in his lap. As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t look away from the fire in his eyes. 

“I’m not trying to make you feel like you owe me anything or to get some kind of recognition, okay? But just don’t fucking compare me to Tae when all I’ve ever tried to do is make you feel less alone. I like you, a lot. And I don’t even care that you’re not into me and you’re still caught up on him. I genuinely just want you to be happy.” 

With his monologue over, Jungkook turned his head to stare down at his hands, leaving you to peer at his profile with your mouth hanging open. 

It was the most you’d heard Jungkook speak, ever. It was also the most expressive you’ve ever seen him. Despite his passion for art, Jungkook was a very level person; he was collected even in the most stressful situations. To see him visibly shaking as he raised his voice was upsetting. 

“Jungkook…” You reached out to touch his arm and your heart broke into a million pieces when he flinched. 

“It’s whatever.” 

But it wasn’t. 

You felt like shrinking into the smallest version of yourself and disappearing. You’d spent so much time aching over the wounds Taehyung had left that you hadn’t considered what you might be missing out on, or how you might have been hurting someone else. Your head was lost in the dark cloud hanging over you; your heart couldn’t see anything in front of you. Blinded by your own pain, healing long overdue. 

You were so fucking stupid. 

“JK…” you started again. Lifting your hand, you brought your fingers to his chin and encouraged him to turn his head to look at you. “I’m so sorry. I really am. I just… It hurts? I don’t know what to do with the hurt.” 

From Taehyung and every other reckless boy. 

You let go of his face and waited, holding your breath until your lungs burned. Much to your disappointment, Jungkook maintained that cold stare, his eyes boring into yours so deeply that you felt like he was seeing something inside of you that even you didn’t know. You were afraid to look at him, shame making it difficult to hold your head up.  

“Give it to me.” 

“What?” It was your turn to cast your eyebrows down in confusion. 

“Give me the hurt. You don’t have to hold onto it anymore. I can take it.” His large hand enveloped your own, thumb running figure 8s into your skin.

You tried to speak, but you couldn’t choke out even a whisper as his words repeated in your head. Give me the hurt. Your hands shivered beneath his and you looked away quickly, feeling that horrid prickling in the corner of your eyes. You were not going to lose it just because you were touch-starved and never once in your life had someone so soundly declared their desire to take on whatever pain it was that you were feeling. You liked to keep your pain a secret, only letting out emotions through your poetry. And even then, you wanted to separate yourself from it. Writing was like putting down your emotion, letting it exist outside of you, so you could live free from it. But that didn’t always happen the way you wanted it to. 

You blinked quickly, losing focus on Jungkook’s face until you felt something hot slip down your cheek and you realized you were crying. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, embarrassment flooding your chest as you tried not to hiccup. What kind of emotional disaster were you? As Courtney would say, it wasn’t very girlboss of you. 

“I can take it.” 

This time the embers had gone out in his eyes. Instead, his irises were pleading with you. You tried to cover your face with your hands, but Jungkook held them down. He brushed your cheeks dry with his thumb, cradling your chin in his palm. 

“You deserve better, okay?” 

It was difficult to believe, but the soft gaze Jungkook held made you want to think maybe he was right. But how could it be possible for someone to want to carry your burden for you? He had no reason to. 

“I’m good now,” you said after a moment, the tears dried and your breathing returning to normal. You wanted to give him an out, let him have the opportunity to feel like he’d done his part in case he didn’t really mean what he said. You refused to let yourself fall for anymore bullshit. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” 

“You don’t have to lie to me…” 

There was that familiar line. You felt your eyes instinctually roll and you couldn’t stop the next snarky comment from slipping past your lips, using biting humor as a defense mechanism to cope. 

“Okay, Immanuel Kant.” 

Jungkook snorted, matching your eye roll, but he gave you a smile that reached his eyes. A classic Jungkook grin that had you giving a small smile in return and making your stomach flip like a fucking gymnast. It made you slowly float back down to reality and you remembered you were sitting in a shirtless Jungkook’s bed, his body leaned forward out of concern for you, his face mere inches from yours. Hand still cradling your chin. 

“Jungkook…” 

Your voice got caught in your throat with what little breathing you could manage. Then you watched his eyes drop to your lips as you whispered his name, and the melancholic look he gave you when his gaze returned to yours made you squeeze your eyes shut with guilt. He’d confessed his interest in you and you’d completely glossed over it. Not on purpose, but somehow you were making your feelings the priority once again. And now he looked at you like you were already gone. 

“Yeah, Y/N?” You opened your eyes at his call. 

“I…” 

You wanted to tell him how you felt, you really did. But life had taught you that in relationships there was always someone who cared more, and that person always got hurt the most. You just couldn’t keep being that person. 

Jungkook studied your face for what felt like an eternity. If he was expecting you to finish your sentence, he was certainly being patient. But it was the way his mouth turned downward into a small frown and his eyes traveled off somewhere behind you that told you he’d lost hope. 

Until he was staring at you once again and his grip on your chin tightened so subtly you almost didn’t notice. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

His voice came out low and thick. The tone sent a shiver down your spine and made goosebumps rise along your forearms. You’d never heard his voice drop so deep before, nor had you seen his eyes darken the way they had now. A spark of desire fluttered in your stomach and you felt nearly lightheaded from the way your body was hitting a peak level of anxiety over his question. If you said yes, were you just giving into yet another boy who would ruin you? And you believed Jungkook could ruin you. He was an artist; they were always trouble. 

But there was no denying the fact that your nervousness was merely a physical response to your interest in Jungkook that had grown exponentially over time. You were weak, and he was right. You did feel broken and alone and misunderstood. And you knew that sometimes Jungkook felt that way, too.

Just when Jungkook began to pull away with a look of rejection written across his face, you nodded. Unable to speak, you watched Jungkook’s tongue swipe across his bottom lip as he leaned in even closer. 

You were prepared for something much more lewd than what Jungkook gave you. Though your lips were parted, he didn’t invade your space. Instead of tongue and lip biting, you were met with a chaste kiss. His lips were soft and gentle, and the way his hand cupped your face made you feel secure, just as you’d felt when he hugged you. You’d never felt a sense of security with someone from a simple kiss. 

And then he was ending the kiss just as quickly as he’d started it, finally dropping his hand from your face. 

“Sorry,” he sighed, no longer meeting your eyes when he spoke. “I shouldn’t have asked. I don’t want you to feel like you had to agree to that…” 

It was your turn to shut him up. Maybe it was the remaining hormones swirling in your brain from having cried so much, or the adrenaline from being kissed by a man you’d tried to shoo out of your mind, but you felt bold enough to take his chin in your hand as he had done to you. You pressed your lips against his, this time forcing his mouth into a faster, deeper rhythm. The kiss was heavy and more desperate than the first. It was what you’d initially expected Jungkook to give you; a makeout that went hard and fast from the beginning, 0 to 100. That was what fuckboys did, wasn’t it? Anything to get their dick wet the quickest. 

It was what you were used to.

Your small hands found the tops of his shoulders, fingers running along his smooth, warm skin before you pushed him against the headboard. Swinging your leg over his, your knees sank into the soft bed as you straddled him. You adjusted slightly in his lap and the shift made your core press directly on top of the bulge in his pants that you’d admired earlier. This realization made the sudden heat between your legs melt like lava, and you ground your hips into his in a smooth but firm motion. 

The movement elicited a deep groan from the back of Jungkook’s throat, another sweet sound you’d never had the pleasure of hearing fall from his lips. With his lips parted from groaning, you took the opportunity to slip your tongue inside of his mouth. His hands pushed up the hem of your shirt just enough to allow him to reach the skin of your waist, gripping you hard as your body moved against his. 

“Y/N, wait.” 

Jungkook pulled back to lean his head against the bed’s headboard and you were met not with lust-filled eyes as you expected, but eyes that looked so deeply pained you almost wanted to avert your gaze. 

“I don’t wanna be a rebound. I want this to mean something, or else I can’t do this.” 

Jungkook’s voice came out hoarse, and it trembled. His eyes still held that undeniable sadness that reminded you that, once again, you had failed to see how your own fear of rejection had made you ignorant to the feelings you were instilling in him. Here he was, willing to give himself over to you, holding back because he was afraid that you would hurt him.

Once again, shame flooded your face as you frantically searched for a way to show that you needed this to mean something, that in just a few months he had become the most constant person in your life, the person you were most comfortable with even when all you often did was just sit and talk about life. 

There was an obvious way to fix this, but you still had that gnawing feeling holding you back. 

“I like you, too, Jungkook.” Squeezing your eyes shut, you spoke just barely above a whisper. If you didn’t look at him, the vulnerability of the moment would be easier to manage. “You’re kind and smart even though you’re always toeing the line of academic probation.” 

Your words came out rushed, the last comment making you let out a laugh that sounded more like a short burst of air, and you held onto his shoulders for dear life. 

“And you’re the most creative and imaginative person I’ve ever met, but you’re so lowkey about everything. You deserve more than you give yourself credit for,” you continued, eyes still closed. “And… I guess you’re kinda hot…” 

With that you slowly opened one eye to peek at Jungkook’s face. It was embarrassing to say that the grin he wore made your heart soar and it was only then that you noticed the way his fingertips were running along your sides, tracing invisible designs onto your skin. 

“Only kinda hot?” 

“Oh shut up.” 

You gave him a playful slap against his chest. You let your hand linger there, palm pressed against him to feel the strength of his pec muscle. With your bottom lip pulled between your teeth, you ran your hand down the length of Jungkook’s chest and along his abdomen until you reached between your bodies to access the hem of his sweatpants. 

Without warning you gripped his cock, palming it over his pants. You felt it twitch beneath your fingers, already semi-hard and warm even through the fabric. Jungkook let out a low groan, hips slightly bucking into you. Suddenly aware of how painfully clothed you are, Jungkook slid his hands back up your sides, pushing his t-shirt off of you in the process. Ruining the orderly look of his bedroom, he tossed the t-shirt and brought his attention back to you. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” he hissed, realizing that you weren’t wearing a bra. 

You shuddered at the gentle way he ran his fingers up your sides once more and you leaned forward when his tattooed fingers lightly pinched one of your nipples until it went hard. Then he moved onto the other one, tweaking it slowly. 

After a moment you let go of him and reached for the hem of his sweatpants, waiting for him to lift his body so you could pull them down his legs. 

He’s big, bigger than you’d expected. You’d imagined he would have a nice dick, purely because it seemed like the most mysterious, standoffish guys always did. They didn’t have to compensate by being boisterous and arrogant; they knew what they were packing and that was enough. But Jungkook was quite possibly too much. You were a small person, for fuck’s sake. 

“We don’t have to do this. If you’re not ready, we can stop.” 

There was Jungkook reading your mind, yet again. How was it possible for him to know exactly what to say every single time? Were you just that expressive? If so, no one else in your life read you so well. 

“Stop talking,” you repeated his earlier command, but you didn’t look him in the eyes. Instead you were focused on how heavy and soft his cock felt in your hand as you admired him. You ran your fingers along the prominent vein on the underside of his cock, then you glided your thumb along the tip to smear the bit of precum that was already leaking. The action made Jungkook whimper and the sound sent a jolt straight into your core. 

But just before you could lower your head down to give him what you knew he wanted, Jungkook’s hand was cupping your chin once again. He pulled your face upwards to guide you back to his. 

“I’m fine, Jungkook. I want to do this,” you assured him, but he slowly shook his head. 

“You’re going in so fast, and you don’t have to. I’m not some asshole hookup. The point of all this isn’t just to get me off and make you put in all the work.” He leaned forward to kiss you on the tip of your nose and you’d never felt more wanted in your entire life. “You deserve to feel good for once.” 

Snaking his arm around your waist, Jungkook gently flipped you onto your back. Spreading your legs apart with his knees, he kneeled over you as he began laying hot kisses down the length of your neck, pausing only to suck at the soft skin where your neck and collarbone met. 

“Jungkook…” you sighed, squirming underneath him once his mouth began to travel further down. 

He flicked his tongue against one of your nipples, drawing a circle around the erect mound. He let out a deep hiss of approval when you moaned, arching your back to push yourself against his mouth. While his tongue was busy exploring your chest, Jungkook took his sweet time pulling his basketball shorts off of you, those too flying across the room. 

When he moved back into a comfortable position between your legs, his thigh brushed against your core and he let out a moan loud enough you were sure his roommates would hear him. 

“Fuck, Y/N, you could’ve warned me you weren’t wearing any underwear,” he groaned, his thigh now glistening with your arousal. 

“Sorry I didn’t think to tell you while I was crying.” 

“So dramatic.” 

You covered your face with your hands in embarrassment that bore even deeper into your soul when a pathetic whimper escaped your lips the moment you felt Jungkook’s hand slip in between your thighs. 

“You’re so fucking wet,” he sighed, effortlessly sliding his fingers along your folds. He ran his fingers up and down slowly as if he were memorizing each crevice and the way your legs jumped when he hit a certain spot, especially once he began stroking your clit. 

He was exploring, you realized. He was learning your body and there was nothing more embarrassing. All you could think about was the fear that Jungkook might not like what he saw. Or that he was comparing you to his past fucks. Or that Taehyung had told him things about your sex life. 

“Why are you hiding from me?”

You felt your hands being pried from your face and lifted over your head. Jungkook pinned your wrists above you, his face now inches from yours. You could see a restrained wildness in his eyes, but his eyebrows were knitted together in frustration. 

“Why?” he repeated. 

You shook your head, but another irritated call of your name made you question your decision to defy him.

“I just don’t want you to be disappointed…” you whispered, avoiding his gaze. 

“Does this seem like disappointment to you?” Jungkook rolled his hips into you, his now rock hard cock sliding against your dripping folds. 

“Ahh, n-no,” you gasped, wiggling under his hold. 

“Okay, so don’t hide from me. Let me take care of you.” 

Letting go of your wrists, Jungkook got off of the bed. You watched him with confusion that slowly melted into a mixture of anxiety and sweet anticipation as he hooked his arms around your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the bed. Falling to his knees, Jungkook let your legs rest on his broad shoulders. You could feel his breath against your skin and it took everything in your power not to begin squirming again when you felt his tongue lick a hot stripe up the inside of your thigh. 

“I want you to watch me while I eat you out,” Jungkook murmured, his dark eyes locking with yours as he leaned forward to plant a kiss against your lower lips. “Okay?” 

You had no choice but to nod in compliance, propping yourself up on your forearms so you could get a better view even though everything in you was screaming to break your gaze. You could hardly believe it was Jungkook staring at you through his bangs from between your legs. Not to mention you were usually very shy when it came to being sexually pleasured - mostly because it rarely happened. Guys were always expecting you to do them favors, not the other way around. You couldn’t even remember the last time a guy had gone down on you. 

But there was no time to be shy when Jungkook abruptly plunged his tongue into your folds. You let out a loud yelp and immediately slapped your hand over your mouth to muffle the remaining squeals threatening to slip from your parted lips. Jungkook chuckled at your response and the vibration made your cunt throb. 

Still, you kept your gaze locked with his as he lapped up your juices, no matter how dirty it made you feel to have those blown out pupils bore into yours. Your eyes only fluttered when his lips found your clit and began to suck on it while his tongue flicked a steady rhythm against it, the two sensations proving to be almost too much for you to handle. Your breathing became ragged as you felt your abdomen tense up. 

“Jungkook,” you whispered a moan, hands gripping the bed sheets so tightly your fingers started to hurt. 

“Hmm, baby? You’re gonna have to speak up.” The new nickname made you whimper. 

As if to encourage you to find your voice, Jungkook slid two fingers inside of you as he returned to pleasuring your clit. The sudden stretch immediately ripped a strangled moan out of you and your hips involuntarily bucked into Jungkook’s face. 

“I’m sorry,” you quickly apologized, but Jungkook only fucked into you harder, expertly curling his fingers at just the right spot to make your legs start to shake. 

“Don’t apologize. You can fuck my face all you want,” he lifted his head up to lick his lips, sending you a wink that made your heart stop. 

He could sense your orgasm coming soon by the way your walls were clenching around his fingers, but he was determined to make it as mind-shattering as possible. Fitting a third finger inside of you, he continued to suck on your clit, tongue swirling to the rhythm of his fingers. 

“Ohh, oh my god,” you sobbed, tears pooling in your eyes as you finally reached your climax. You let out a loud cry, fingers tangled in Jungkook’s hair as you struggled to still your shaking legs. 

Licking a final stripe up your lips, Jungkook lifted his head from your thighs and gave you a satisfied grin. He was truly a sight for sore eyes with his mouth soaked in your arousal and his hair a mess from your fingers running through it. You fell flat on your back, legs dangling off the edge of the bed. 

“You good?”

“I’m going to die.”

Your eyes were on the ceiling but you heard him laugh and you felt his strong arms lift your legs back onto the bed, adjusting you so you were comfortably in the center of the mattress again. 

“Damn, I didn’t realize I was gonna make you tap out so fast,” he teased, lying down beside you. He pressed a kiss against your throat. 

“Everyone says you have great head game and I should’ve taken them more seriously.” 

“Who says that?!” 

You turned onto your side to face him, already rolling your eyes. “Don’t you know the rumors that get spread about you?” 

Jungkook gave you a small shake of his head. “I don’t worry about people. I’m only worried about you.” 

The warm fuzzy feelings his words gave you were too much for you to bear, so you pushed them away by pulling him closer, crashing your lips into his. Jungkook wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you flush up against his chest. You could feel his cock still hard against your leg and it reminded you that this whole situation felt so foreign to you. Never had you been pleasured by a man who expected nothing in return.

“You are art, you know that? A fucking masterpiece,” Jungkook sighed against your lips, pulling away to nuzzle against your neck. 

“Jungkook.”

“Yes, baby?” There was that fucking nickname again making your pussy flutter back to life. 

Instead of answering him, you reached down to grab his cock. He groaned against your throat as you gave him a few slow pumps. He’d taken care of you just as he’d promised, and now you hoped he’d let you take care of him. Not because you felt obligated to, but because you genuinely wanted to. 

Wordlessly, Jungkook rolled you onto your back so that he was hovering over you, his forearms on either side of your head. 

“I want you so bad,” he growled against your ear, hips rolling into your open legs. 

“What are you waiting for?” you whispered. 

“Fuck…” 

You blinked and he was no longer on top of you. Instead he was rummaging through the drawer of his nightstand, eventually pulling out a shiny square packet. For someone normally so calm, Jungkook’s fingers were shaking with need as he rolled the condom on. 

“Is this okay?” He returned to his position between your legs as you laid on your back. Your heart stung at his thoughtfulness, shocked that he was asking you what position you wanted him in. You nodded, spreading your legs wider for him. Jungkook ran his fingers along the inside of your thighs, his head dipped down so his bangs fell forward, partially obstructing your view of his face. 

You gasped when you felt something wet hit your cunt. He’d spit on you. You could feel the extra lubrication slide down your folds and the lewd act made you shiver. Sure, maybe that was fairly tame for some people, but it had your head reeling.  

Holding the base of his cock, Jungkook rubbed the tip along your folds, further smearing his spit and your arousal together. 

“If you want to stop, just tell me,” he said hoarsely, and that was the warning you got before he was sinking his cock into your entrance. 

Despite how relaxed and turned on you felt, the stretch was considerable. You tensed for a moment and Jungkook froze, his eyes meeting yours. With a nod of approval from you, he pushed himself in further, finally bottoming out and holding the position as he waited for you to adjust. You felt so unbelievably full with him inside of you and the pressure of him against your walls was enough to make your legs shake once again. 

After giving you a bit of time, Jungkook began to move his hips, starting with slow but long strokes that got increasingly deeper. 

“Oh god,” he moaned, head hanging down so he could watch his cock disappear into your cunt over and over again. After a while he lifted one of your legs to rest it on his shoulder so he could adjust his angle to thrust into you that much deeper, and the next slam of his body into yours that had his cock make direct contact with your g-spot made you scream. 

“Shit, Y/N, Yoongi’s gonna kill us if you keep screaming like that,” Jungkook said with a grin that very much made it seem like he wouldn’t mind dying for such an offense. 

“You… just feel s-so g-good,” you cried out, your nails clawing at Jungkook’s arms as you searched for something to hold on to. 

He couldn’t possibly have been concerned considering he only thrusted into you even harder. The thing about Jungkook, though, was that he was going hard but he was going slow. He was savoring every time he slid into you, savoring the glisten of his cock as he pulled out. Turning his head to the side, he kissed the leg he’d draped over his shoulder, one hand running down the smooth skin while his other held on tightly to your hip to keep you in place. 

“Fuck, yes baby,” Jungkook groaned. He pressed his fingers against your mouth, gently prying your lips open to stick his thumb in your mouth. The action surprised you, but you obediently sucked on his thumb until he was pulling away again. Reaching between you, he pressed his now wet thumb against your clit and began rubbing circles as he fucked you. 

You whined at the sudden stimulation, your walls fluttering around his cock as your breathing turned into panting. “I’m gonna…” you let out another moan, your walls clenching around Jungkook’s cock. “I’m gonna come again.” 

“That’s right, come on my cock for me, baby. Let go for me.” 

How could Jungkook make dirty talk sound so alluring? So supportive? It was just like his writing, a gentle lullaby of filth. From the look he’d given you earlier, you knew there was a less tame side of him you’d yet to tap into. The memory of his poem flooded your mind, daring you to take things a step further… she likes to wear my hand as a choker…

Reaching out, you grabbed the hand that was holding onto your hip and brought it to rest on your neck. You saw that same wild look flash in Jungkook’s eyes once again, and you knew the action had affected him because his thrusting faltered for a moment. With your lips slightly parted, you tilted your head back slightly to expose more of your throat for him. Jungkook wasn’t sure he’d ever seen a sight more beautiful. 

“Shit, you keep acting up like this I’m gonna fall in love,” he grunted, biting down hard on his bottom lip as he opened up his palm to get a firm grip on your neck. As he resumed his rhythmic thrusting, he squeezed your throat. At first, the decrease in oxygen had you gasping in your body’s natural drive for self-preservation. Once your body and mind adjusted, though, you succumbed to the way your body tingled with excitement. When you moaned, your eyes fluttering and rolling back, Jungkook applied even more pressure. 

You’d never imagined you’d have another orgasm somewhere inside of you so soon after the first, but you were convulsing around Jungkook’s cock just as he asked you to, calling out his name in the sweetest song. 

It wasn’t long before his thrusts became sloppier and his grip on your throat became almost too tight. The string of profanity he growled in your ear as he came made you shiver. Was it really possible that you affected him so deeply? 

Jungkook hovered over you for a moment, attempting to catch his breath. 

“I think that’s the hardest I ever came in my life,” he said weakly, finally mustering up enough strength to pull himself out of you. He left the bed to throw away the soiled condom, you musing at his cute little butt as he sauntered away. 

“You’re welcome,” you said with a grin, though the hoarseness of your voice startled you. You pressed your hand against your throat and winced, not because your throat hurt, but because of the way Jungkook looked at you with deep concern. 

“Did I hurt you?” he asked softly, climbing into bed beside you. 

“Please,” you sighed, snuggling against Jungkook’s chest. “You did me too good.” 

“I’ll fucking do you again, too, if you don’t stop rubbing your thighs against me,” he murmured in your ear, causing you to chuckle lightly. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

A loud knock on the door made you jump, your arm instinctually covering your chest though you knew Jungkook had locked the door. 

“What the fuck,” he whispered, silently willing whoever it was to go away. 

The knocking continued, this time a bit more aggressively. 

“Open up, bro, the light’s on. I know you’re in there,” Taehyung complained from the other side of the door. “You’ve still got my pen.”  

Your eyes grew wide as you looked at Jungkook. 

With a groan, Jungkook got out of bed once again. Grabbing the basketball shorts you’d been wearing, he pulled them on and snagged Taehyung’s vape pen from where it sat atop his dresser. He didn’t bother to put a shirt on or fix his sex hair. 

“Wait,” you whispered. “What about me?” 

“I don’t give a fuck,” Jungkook spoke at a normal volume as if to demonstrate how serious he was about not caring if Taehyung saw you there. 

“Seriously, JK?” Taehyung clearly thought Jungkook’s comment had been directed towards him. 

You quickly grabbed Jungkook’s t-shirt and pulled it on seconds before Jungkook swung the bedroom door open. 

You watched Taehyung’s eyes slowly scan over Jungkook’s appearance. His mouth twisted as though he were about to speak, but then he locked eyes with you where you still sat in Jungkook’s bed, probably looking just as fucked out as Jungkook did. 

“Here.” Jungkook dropped the vape in Taehyung’s open palm. “Need anything else?” 

Taehyung’s eyes made their way back to Jungkook and whatever snarky comment he’d been prepared to make before was now gone. 

“Nah, that’s it, thanks.” 

-

After a week of being exclusive with Jungkook, you felt the need to loop your roomates into the whole situation. Courtney and Amiriah were your best friends, after all. The three of you had been your own Golden Trio since day one freshman year, ending up in the same peer mentor group. The first time you’d all hung out together you’d gone to an off-campus frat party. Barely an hour in and Courtney had been throwing her guts up right into the pool. Needless to say, the three of you had never gone back to that house. As horrifying as it was, you felt like it painted the perfect picture of your relationship. You were all in it for the long haul, no matter how messy. 

But now you had to tell them you were dating the weird guy. 

You kept looking at your phone, checking the time. The two should have been out of their sorority meeting by now, which meant they could arrive at your dorm at any moment. Waiting was nerve-racking. You gnawed on a hangnail, only pulling your gaze from your phone when you felt Jungkook’s strong arms wrap around your waist. He pulled you into his lap on the couch and leaned into you, lightly brushing his lips along your neck, making you shiver. 

“Why do you act like you’re having me meet your parents?” he asked with a small chuckle. 

“Courtney and Amiriah are important to me,” you started, trying to find the correct words to explain your friends. “They’re also really… judgmental, but because they care about me. And they don’t trust men.” Which was fair. You did your best to look out for them as well. 

Jungkook hummed in response but didn’t speak. That didn’t surprise you. A man of few words, you knew he liked to have time to decide how he felt or what he wanted to say about things. 

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” you announced, standing up. Jungkook nodded and leaned back into the couch. Was it a good thing that he didn’t seem nervous? 

Of course the moment you entered the bathroom, Courtney and Amiriah came bustling through the front door. Their loud chatter quickly halted when their eyes fell upon Jungkook lounging on your couch, legs spread and tattooed arm draped across the back of the couch. 

“Hey,” he greeted them with a grin and a nod of his head. 

“Oh, um, hi?” Courtney’s greeting was more of a question. 

“Where’s Y/N?” What Amiriah wanted to ask was how he even got into your dorm, but she didn’t want to be rude. 

“I’m here!” You shuffled into the room, giving your friends a little wave. “Jungkook wanted to hang out here for a change.” 

The boy quirked his eyebrow at you and gave you an amused smile, noticing how you’d made it sound like it was his idea when it most certainly had been yours. Not that it bothered him. If anything, he wanted you to deflect onto him. He’d told you he could take anything you needed to give him, and he’d meant it. 

Jungkook got up from his seat and walked over to the three of you, hands in the front pockets of his jeans. The pose made his biceps and chest more prominent, and you couldn’t help but stare for a moment. God, he was too pretty. 

“I feel bad it’s the first time I’m finally meeting you,” he said in a warm voice. “Y/N never shuts up about how great you two are. Pretty sure I’ve heard the story of The Great Edible Debacle at the Dolph concert about fifty times.” 

You were shocked by how charming he was being. Really laying it on thick. 

“That is a horrible story to be telling people, Y/N! What the fuck,” Amiriah said with a laugh. “We’re only a little bit insane.” 

“And stupid,” Courtney chimed in. 

The four of you continued your bantering as you lounged around the living room, snacking on some food your roommates had brought as leftovers from their sorority meeting. Jungkook fit into the conversation rather neatly, talking a lot more than you’d expected, but still knowing when to sit back and let the girls dominate the conversation. He sat with his arm around your waist, keeping you close but not dipping into any PDA, knowing it would bother you if he did. 

The conversation came to a pause when Jungkook’s phone began to ring, all three pairs of eyes pointed in his direction. 

“Ah, fuck. Tae’s calling me,” he mumbled. “I’ll be right back.” As he stood up, he cupped your face for a moment, running his thumb across your cheek before he was bringing his phone to his ear. 

“Hyungie, what’s up?” Jungkook stepped out into the hallway, closing the front door behind him. 

“Girl, are y’all fucking?!” Amiriah leaned forward with a harsh whisper, excitement dancing in her bright eyes. 

“We’re dating, actually.” 

Courtney let out a squeal, bouncing on her knees where she sat on a pillow on the floor, wrapped in a fluffy blanket. “I knew it, I totally knew it.” 

“I’m gonna admit, weird or not, that man is foine now that I’m seeing him up close.” Amiriah loudly sucked her teeth and shook her head. “He’s got that snatched little waist. And those thighs? He could smash a watermelon.” 

“Okay, okay, but we gotta ask the REAL question here.” Courtney was now plopping down on the couch between you and Amiriah, blanket still in tow. “Did he eat it right?? In the words of Nicki Minaj, do he got good form??” 

You slapped Courtney on the arm in protest, but you were grinning as you spoke. “I almost started crying, it was so good.” 

“WHEW girl, stop it,” Amiriah grabbed your arm and shook it. “Are you willing to share? For charity?” 

Before you could scold your friend for trying to get her hands on your man, Jungkook returned. The shift in the room’s atmosphere was palpable, and the way Courtney and Amiriah watched Jungkook with new interest was almost too obvious. 

He gave you a confused smile as he squeezed onto the couch next to you. 

“So, Jungkook,” Amiriah began and you prayed to God she wouldn’t say anything stupid. “You said you heard stories about us, but we didn’t talk about all the fun things we’ve heard about you!” 

You shot your friend a glare but she was already on a roll with Courtney on her heels. 

“Yeah, we’ve heard all about your poetry,” Courtney added. 

You don’t think your roommates were prepared for the low chuckle that rumbled from Jungkook nor for the dark look in his eyes as he turned to you. He grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers, and you silently pleaded with him to behave. 

“Yeah, I was trying to give Y/N a preview of what she could be getting.” 

“Jungkook,” you gasped and your friends started talking all at once, but all you could focus on was the way your boyfriend was smirking at you, his tongue playing with his lip ring how he knew you liked. 

He leaned into you, his lips ghosting your ear and sending goosebumps up your arms as he whispered, 

“Just wait until you come over tonight.”

Living with Jungkook meant living with the constant smell of paint. Sure, you only just moved in together less than a week ago, but that was certainly long enough to know. And you were already finding little splatters on the floor and in the kitchen sink.

Living with Jungkook also meant that you were required to use the word magnets on the refrigerator to write him a poem every morning, just like he was going to write one for you. This was established as a house rule while the two of you discussed whether it would be a good idea to live together.

You thought the rules were going to be about who does the laundry, but you had to remember, this was Jungkook.

You tiptoed around the cardboard boxes full of all the stuff you two moved in with, but had yet to unpack. The hardwood floors glistened in the afternoon sunlight streaming through the flimsy blinds. Specks of dust glittered the air.

Jungkook was laying out a tarp in the entranceway of the apartment. An array of paint cans were placed around the tarp to hold it down.

“JK, what are you doing?” you inquired with your hands on your hips.

“Painting,” he said with a simple smile before turning back to his work. It was then that you noticed a large tray with fresh paint, and a variety of brushes sticking out of Jungkook’s pockets. 

“Here? This wall is the first thing people see when they walk in,” you pointed out. Leave it to Jungkook to start on a project before he’d even unpacked all his underwear. 

“That’s the point.” He didn’t look at you as he spoke, instead focused on mixing the color he wanted. 

You let out a small sigh. This man… 

“What are you going to do? Please, I beg of you, please do not paint genitalia of any kind.” It wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy your boyfriend’s artwork. You were obsessed with his creativity, actually. It was part of what made you fall for him. But there was no denying that he was… unconventional in his taste. 

Jungkook let out a chuckle, his nose scrunched up and his cute front teeth exposed. It was the laugh that meant he thought you were being ridiculous. 

“It’s gonna be something even better.” 

That was not reassuring at all. 

“Jungkook, my parents are coming to visit in a week!” 

Setting his brush down in silence, Jungkook extended his arm to hook a tattooed finger through the belt loop of your shorts. You begrudgingly let him pull you forward until you were pressed against his chest. Your arms circled his tiny waist and you forgot you were supposed to be annoyed with him when he started caressing your head, careful not to mess up your hair. 

“I’m gonna paint a mural of my muse,” he said in the wispy tone his voice took on when he was thinking through his plans. “That’s you, in case you didn’t know.” 

You lifted your head to look up at him, your chin resting on his chest. “No.” 

“What?!” 

“You are not putting up some kind of shrine for me in the middle of the apartment.” 

“Why can’t I let everyone know that I worship you?” Jungkook whined, letting go of you. You weren’t prepared to be set free, though, and you stumbled backwards. With wide eyes, Jungkook grabbed a handful of your shirt to stop you from falling, but it was too late. Your foot stepped directly into one of his open paint cans. 

“JUNGKOOK!” you shrieked, lifting up your foot to see gloopy red paint drip from your toes.

Jungkook’s cheeks grew puffy as he tried to hold in his laughter while he searched for his towels. It was a failed attempt, though, and you were glowering even harder as you watched the laugh come bursting from inside him. 

“I’m-,” Jungkook wheezed, holding out a paint-stained towel for you. He was laughing so hard his hand shook. “I’m s-sorry, baby, I-” 

He abruptly shut up when he felt your hand swipe his cheek and a thick liquid rolled down his neck. 

“That’s what you get for laughing at me!” you said with a wicked grin, admiring how you’d smeared paint all over the side of his face. 

Your grin slowly fell as you watched Jungkook lean down to drag his fingers through his tray of baby blue paint. 

“Don’t you dare,” you warned, pointing your finger at him. 

“What? I’m not doing anything.” Jungkook gave you the sweetest smile and reached for your legs. You felt his wet hands slide down your bare thighs and you shrieked again as he threw you over his shoulder. 

“Put me down! Kookie, you’re going to get paint all over the floor.” You gently beat his back with your fists, but your laughter made your actions less convincing. 

“Me? You’re the one ruining my painting area.” He tried brushing his bangs out of his eyes, but ended up smearing paint across his forehead and into his hair. “Now I have to clean my baby up.” 

You could hear the pout in his voice as he carried you down the hallway to the bathroom, dripping red and blue paint. The two of you were certainly going to leave your mark on this place.

@rkiveslibrary @mar-lo-pap

[nekoashiii]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ For me?

‧✧̣̥̇‧ : Lads men when you give them what they were looking for.

No warnings for this post! Just posting something to hop back on tumblr, request me your ideas, I will do my best to write them all!

Ps I know this is bad but bear with me it’s been a year since I last wrote anything…

Part 1: sylus

⨯ ◞ Sylus

Sylus had been looking for a specific item, it was a protocore, one he had been looking for relentlessly, every wanderer he had hunted down or ordered someone to go after, lacked what he needed.

there was the noise again— you blinked up at the ceiling, sylus tripping over an open cabinet door at your apartment, if his biggest enemies couldn’t take him out, your bathroom would. “Too small and too tight, out for my blood” he complained.

He left you with no sleep that night, it wasn’t his fault really, nights were his morning and vice versa. you got out of bed and went to the living room, the room lit up with a notification buzzing from sylus’s phone, curiosity got the better of you and you leaned over, reading the message.

Unknown: “We didn’t find the protocore tonight either, sorry boss—“

Huh, how odd, you clicked on the message. There was a picture attached. that protocore’s shape looks like the one in the hands of the hunter association, you can attempt to get it. The idea of getting Sylus that protocore lingered in your mind, even as you yawned and rubbed the sleep from your eyes. It was the first time you had seen him chase after something, and as such seeing him frustrated was a rare thing.

— Wouldn’t it be interesting if you got to it first?

The Hunter Association was no joke, though. They weren’t the type to hand over rare artifacts just because you asked nicely. Still, you had your own ways of getting things.

Next evening at your shift, you went to look for captian Jenna

“Captain, excuse me! Protocore delta-6, I need it for the mission I’m going on, do I have the permission to borrow it?”

you suppose it did work, you had managed to borrow it, but still not safely secured as an owned possession. The second step of your plan was a bit more tricky, having to go to a field of wanderers and making the excuse of the protocore breaking in your bag.

…wincing as you walked back to your apartment, avoiding your neighbors, not wanting them to look at you while you resembled a wet homeless rat, muddy shoes and hair clinging to your forehead like a miserable pet being bathed.

Great, house was empty. No sylus in sight, tiptoeing to the bedroom you pulled out the gift box and sat on the ground, injury from the wanderer be damned, thinking about actually surprising sylus with something good gave you enough good spirit and motivation to wrap the gift up. As you placed the protocore on the plush bedding of the box, a shadow loomed behind you.

“Of all people…”

The voice sent a chill down your spine. You barely had time to react before Sylus was looming over you, his sharp gaze locked onto the protocore nestled in its plush box.

“Get out of my room!” You snapped, instinctively pulling the box closer, but it was useless. Sylus moved fast—too fast. Before you could blink, he was crouched in front of you, his fingers already curled around the edge of the box.

He didn’t take it, though. Not yet.

Instead, he studied you, eyes flicking over your disheveled state—the ripped sleeve, the way you shifted slightly to favor your injured side. His expression darkened.

“You’re hurt.”

“It’s nothing,” you muttered, attempting to brush it off, but he wasn’t listening. His hand darted out, grabbing your wrist with controlled precision. You hissed as he pushed your sleeve back, revealing the fresh wound underneath.

Sylus exhaled sharply through his nose. “You went into a Wanderer field.” That didn’t sound like a question.

You yanked your arm away. “It was for a good cause.”

His gaze flicked back to the box. “You stole that.”

“I borrowed it,” you corrected. “Technically… At first.”

For a long moment, he was silent. Then, in one smooth motion, he plucked the box from your grasp. You tensed, expecting him to scold you, but instead, Sylus just stared at the neatly wrapped gift, his fingers resting lightly on the edges as if he didn’t quite believe it was real.

“You did this for me?” His voice was quieter now, carrying something unreadable beneath the usual sharpness. Before his stupid handsome face returned to the usual smirk.

You shrugged. “I figured if you were gonna be obsessed over it, I might as well beat you to it.”

Something flickered in his expression— amusement, surprise, something softer you couldn’t place. He let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head. “You are getting brave kitten, doing dirty work? should I hire you as my assistant then.”

“You’re welcome,” you huffed, shifting to stand up. “Now, if you’re done being dramatic, I’d like to clean up and—”

You barely made it to your feet before Sylus moved. before you could step away one hand caught your wrist again—gentler this time. He didn’t say anything at first, just studied you, eyes sharp and calculating. Then, before you could protest, he raised your hand and pressed a slow, lingering kiss to the inside of your wrist.

Your heart did an embarrassing little flip.

[tokoyamisstuff]

I need some Mohawk mark head cannons I’m desperate for anything please😞😞😞

Sure thing, I love this unhinged little gremlin! Wrote a whole Oneshot as a special treat for you. 💅

Payback

x f! Reader (gender gets mentioned exactly twice)

Synopsis: In his timeline, Mohawk killed you for rejecting him - and now he seeks you out to do it again.

Warnings: mentions of murder and violence, sexual innuendos, unhealthy dynamics, swearing, not proofread

"Y/N? Im hurt...please, I need you! Y/N...? Ah, shit."

Mohawk was kicking the air in frustration, a little pout decorating his face as he scanned the small apartment for any hint of your whereabouts. He had thought you were home, since the window on the top floor stood wide open. Almost too easy.

Bummer. He was really looking forwards to killing you again...

...after all, last time he wasn't able to enjoy himself. Not really. It all happened so fast, the only thing he remembers is that in his lovesickness, he wanted to make you experience exactly how your rejection made him feel.

Before he even knew it, his fist had buried itself through your ribcage, holding your still beating heart in his own hand. The only way he'd ever get to have it - what tragic symbolism.

Not that he'd ever admit, but that betrayed expression of yours before he could literally feel your heart stop haunts him until this day.

The countless photos you had plastered all over one of the walls piqued his interest. Can't hurt to learn more about the version of you from this world, he thinks.

A particular one he rips off, nothing extraordinary but it bugs him how many they are. Plain selfies with you in various years and situations, together with that pathetic loser - the Mark from your timeline.

Seems like you're rather close, unlike him and his Y/N. And that fucker doesn't even realize how lucky he is.

Mohawk grits his teeth, a familiar jealous anger seething in the pit of his stomach once again.

It should've been him!

You on the other hand are blissfully unaware of the intruder in your house, let alone the catastrophy unfolding on the whole globe right this moment.

It was the day after your nightshift and you had just crawled out of bed, no intention of listening to the news as they only kill the vibe anyways. And in the middle of nowhere that you called your hometown, no one bothered giving an alarm or even evacuating, as it's most likely not going to be attacked.

After a nice, steaming hot shower you stroll out of the bathroom, humming a whimsy melody as you mentally prepare your day off...

...until you notice the stranger right in the middle of your living room.

Your shriek actually caughts him off guard and this moron joins right in, but after the initial shock you merely tilt your head in confusion. "...Invincible?"

Damn. Shit. Fuckfuckfuckfuckingfuck!

Mohawks brain currently had a short circuit apparently, staring at your almost naked form like a deer that had just been caught in the headlights.

Your hair was still damp, a towel - that was way too small for this purpose - wrapped around your curves. Shit. Seems like no matter which universe, you're drop-dead gorgeous. He mentally praises Art for having a groin cup sewn into this suit - or else he would've involuntarily presented something to you he's usually not so shy about.

"The one and only." He manages to regain his cool, smugly leaning against a counter...

...however his mind soon went blank once again when you rushed towards him, wrapping your arms around his torso with your barely covered body pressed against his.

Mohawk freezes, arms itching to return the embrace yet instead he lets them fall limp to the side, hands soon balling into tight fists as you stubbornly refuse to let go.

How dare you.

He should snap your neck like a twig- no, better, break every bone in your body for this insolence...

...but instead, he caughts himself resting his chin atop of your head.

"I missed you, ya know?" he mumbles against your hair, feeling the taunting way his heart flutters in his chest. It's drum is so loud in his head, he's certain you can hear it too. Fuck.

What the hell was he doing? He came here to give you a long, agonizing death, for fuck's sake!

"Well, you are the superpowered alien" you tease, softly poking his chest. "Maybe come around more often?"

Your friend was visibly uncomfortable with the whole exchange, but you didn't seem to notice. Whenever he failed to answer, you filled the gaps of silence with your own babbling instead. It's been way too long and you're simply excited to see him again.

"Is that the new suit you were talking about?" you wonder, still holding onto the sides of his shoulders. Feeling a blush form on his cheeks he quietly glances away, feeling oddly embarrassed under your scrutiny.

"It suits you! But what about that hair?" One of your hands runs through his mohawk and he has to physically fight the urge to purr like some needy stray cat. "...you don't like it?"

You shrug, raising your hands in a placating manner. "No, I mean yes, I mean...it looks super cool and all..." That statement made his chest swell with pride, and he could almost feel his confidence returning. "Doesn't really suit an innocent guy like you though, am I wrong?"

Innocent. Ugh. His variant is so fucking boooring, but he couldn't let his true colors show just yet. This was getting way too amusing.

Only now you noticed the huge gash on his left arm where the fabric of his suit was torn, the blood running down your fingers. Hardly a scratch for a superior Viltrumite like he called himself one.

Again Mohawk felt his chest narrowing at such great display of care, the way you worriedly examined his wound despite knowing how tough his kind was. "This is nothing, it'll be healed by-"

"Na-a-ah!" You scolded him and he wanted to sass right back, but all word of protest died on his tongue. "Come, sit down on the sofa. I'll patch you up."

He complies without second thought, following you like a lost puppy.

The heart wants what it wants.

"You finished whatever mission you were on, right? Because I'm almost done cooking as well" you tell him while working on the bandage, and he has a hard time concentrating on anything else when you're so close, touching him so gently, and your eyes shine so bright. "Be my guest?"

His eyes dart bewteen you any the bandage for a brief while, examining your handiwork before sheepishly accepting your offer. "If you insist...got nothing better to do."

Oh.

When he thought there was nothing to lose by staying for a while, he totally forgot about your absolutely horrid cooking. He remembers it from his Y/N, she used to make it all the time.

In his empire he is provided with the most sublime meals, prepared by the best chef's of across the galaxy...and yet, this homely, nostalgic feeling your food provided is something no one could replicate.

"You still eat this crap?" He picks at the food, plain mac and cheese from the box, but you always claimed you 'improve the flavor' somehow.

"Your fault for not calling beforehand. If I knew I'd be having a guest, I'd have cooked something properly." You scold him playfully, gesturing with the fork to add to your statement. "I mean I'm single and practically live at work, why put in the effort?"

You're single.

That damned boyfriend of yours isn't with you in this universe.

Not that it'd have been any hindrance if he was, but this made things so much more easier.

Back at his dimension, he always wondered what you saw in this guy. He was a nobody that could never even dream compare to his greatness - and yet you chose him over Mohawk anyways.

"You're so broody again today." Concerningly enough, that's basically his standard state of being ever since he became a superhero - and knowing him it meant no good. "Do you want to talk about it, or would you like some distraction?"

His screams had been music in his ears, though...

Mohawk puts the plate down, shuffling a little too close for your liking towards the other end of the sofa. His gaze was stern, softening ever so slightly when you put your hand on the small of his back.

"Say, do you..." he swallows hard around the lump forming in his throat, taking both of your hands into his as he stared at you utterly forlorn. "Did you ever think we could've been more than just friends?"

Huh?!?

That question caught you so off guard, for a second you thought about punching yourself in the face to see if you were dreaming.

It's not like you haven't thought about it before, to be perfectly honest.

Mark Grayson is a fairly attractive guy - inside and out - and you two always clicked well. If it wasn't for the huge distance separating you and him, you might've certainly catched feelings.

Your grandma lived next door with his family, so you befriended each other as kids and played whenever you visited her during the holidays. But life happens and people grow up, so even though his powers would easily allow him to visit you more often, his priorities simply lie elsewhere.

You barely text these days, and see each other maybe once or twice a month at max. Adult life gets busy, that's just the way it works.

Not to mention the most important fact: He currently has a girlfriend.

There was a long pause of silence between his question and your answer, and the more time passed the more anxiety - and violent anger - emerged in his brain.

"Be honest" he pushes at your lack of an answer, insistingly squeezing your hands.

"What, trouble in paradise already?" You cut him off with a judging, almost irritated glare and for a moment he is taken aback. "You told me like a week ago how happy you are with Eve, that she's the love of your life, blah blah blah..."

Samantha Eve Wilkins.

Sure, he had been with her before in his world as well, always trying to make you jealous. Claiming that you were insignificant, while he was with a literal goddess...

...and still, whenever they kissed, whenever she laid beneath him, hell, even whenever they just were around each other, all he could think of was how much he yearned for her to be you instead.

It wasn't enough, never enough to make those feelings go away. In the end he killed her simply for the crime of not being able to replace you.

"Sorry, but I'm not a homewrecker." You want to turn away, angry and disappointed that you seemed to have mistaken him for a good guy, but Mark takes ahold of your chin, letting his thumb run over your bottom lip as he forces you to keep looking.

He'd get that attitude out of you pretty easily.

"Y/N..." The name rolls of his lips like a lovesong, and he drags it out for as long as the air in his lungs allowed him to. "There's no more Eve in my life. And I don't want her, or anyone else but you!"

A boyish smile tugs on his lips when he realizes that despite playing coy, you're receptive to his touch. He feels your breathing hitch when he came forwards, his nose brushing against yours as he waited for your reaction.

There. Gotcha.

The slightest twitch was enough of a sign for him to close the gap between your lips, mouth crashing over yours in all forms of desire. He was passionate, desparate even in the way his tongue delved into your mouth, needing you quite literally more than oxygen. His hands roam across your body, stroking and squeezing and crushing you agaisnt him, not knowing where to settle.

Mark's eyes stay wide open during the kiss, savouring every detail as if to commit it to memory. This, the real deal, is so much better than all those others he used to try and fill the void your absence has left in his soul.

His heart is practically clawing against his ribcage by now, subconscious screaming at him to never let anyone take you away from him again.

Not even yourself.

"Breaking news!" the volume of your TV that always ran in the background suddenly spiked up, and for the fraction of a second Mark's grip on you bordered on painful.

However it wasn't enough to keep you preoccupied, partially breaking the kiss to glance over to the screen...

...and what you saw made cold dread creep up your spine.

"Multiple superhumans all resembling Invincible are wreaking havoc in cities all around the world, overwhelming local and government forces. The police is advising everyone that if you come across one of those invididuals, do not approach them. They are dangerous and unpredictable. Remain hidden and report to local authori-"

It's him.

"They never get my good site" Mohawk's neck cracks as he moves his head from left to right, trying to relieve some stress of having been so rudely interrupted. He's not acknowledging your distress at all, instead looking straight ahead towards the footage of himself making the London Bridge collapse. "But hey, do you like what I've done to the place?"

You didn't even fully register what the news broadcaster had been explaining, and frankly it wouldn't be helpful either way - because at this moment, one of those villains destroying everything in their path was sitting right next to you.

"Please-"

"Relax, would you" he cuts you off both harshly and encouraging, draping an arm over your shoulder and letting out a content sigh. "If I wanted you dead, you'd already be. Okay, maybe that was the plan in the beginning" he chuckled gleeful, "but I changed my mind."

"Wha- how- who are you?" you whimmer only to be met with a smile so innocently, it bordered on pure madness.

"I'm Invicible, but..." he ponders, thoughtfully tapping his jaw. "...from an alternate universe, I guess? Never fully understood how this shit works."

You frown. "So what, you're just like some cheap, evil version of our Mark Grayson?"

"And- why are you at my house?" You have a distinct apprehension about his reasons.

"Oh, babydoll...so stubborn" he cockily corrects you, forcefully leading your hand to rest above his sternum. "I'm the upgrade."

"In my world we go way back, you know?" Mohawk holds your face with his free hand, pressing an absentminded kiss on your forehead. "The old story: Boy falls in love, girl breaks his heart, boy brutally murders girl..." he trails off, but the picture was clearly painted. "I came here to give you what you deserve."

"...and now?"

"Still do" he shrugs, a devilish glint in his eyes as he got an idea. "But I came to think that maybe you deserve something different..."

His words make you shiver, but he only laughs at your misery. "You're trembling. Cute. But I prefered you before. I like dominant women!"

When your eyes gloss in dread, Mohawk looked almost convincingly worried, hushing you while his lips erase the teardrops running down your cheeks. Delightful not only for him...

...because much to your horror, it was oddly comforting.

Out of a whim you get pulled onto his lap, unable to escape his suffocating proximity. You look at him with a mixture of fear and curiosity, which only spurs him to become bolder. He tugs on your towel so that it'd reveal what's beneath, shamelessly groaning at the sight.

"I wanted to hear you scream my name one last time..." he admitted, playfully wriggling his eyebrows. "But there's other ways to achieve that."

Mohawk leans in, the contrast of his hot breath against the chilling air rising goosebumps on your skin. You shiver, a strangled noise of approval vibrating in your throat when you feel his hands devote themselves to more sensitive parts of your body.

"Whaddaya say, sugar? I'll make it worth your while."

[abbyslovergirlxo]

could you write more for ambessa? thank you very much

Yes, General

Ambessa Merdarda x FemReader

Word count: 1.3k

Synopsis: You find yourself in General Merdarda’s bedroom, partaking in what she calls ‘training’.

Warnings: soft/hard!dom Ambessa, sub!reader, enforcer!reader, overstimulation, breath play, choking, wlw, Ambessa is just a lil mean, strap usage

A/n: you’re so real for this and yw!! I wrote this on my work break lol. I GO NUTS FOR THIS LADY LIKEEEE. I hope you guys like this tho lol! not proofread and a little rushed to be honest. But here we are. Also Sevika x Brothel!reader coming soon 🙈

“ Move your hand.”

The command was surprisingly gentle but it was in direct contrast to the speed of her hips. Years of combat and taking over literal countries must’ve attributed to such stamina, you’d always thought. But you didn’t hold much thoughts now, not when Ambessa was promoting you to avert the hand that currently pushed against her hip.

“ bessa…” You were breathless. “ p-please…”

“ It’s General, soldier. Hurry now, move it. Your training isn’t finished.”

This isn’t exactly what you’d call training. But she clearly thought otherwise. If anything you should’ve known the moment Rictus appeared in your stationed room, telling your commander something along the lines of ‘ General needs her’. Of course you were sent away without a hiccup, without so much as a ‘ what on earth for’. Nobody questioned the general.

You secretly regretted your release having been so smooth. Now you could barely feel your legs, for the first two hours they ached unbearably with all those the positions she forced you in. You moaned out a complaint to her about it at one point. Strong soldiers push through the pain, was all you received in return.

Ambessa grew impatient, deciding to move the shaky hand herself. She laced her fingers through it, holding it down against the bed as you wept. She was able to pick up her speed more freely now, quite viciously too. The stark black strap disappeared into you over and over.

You were countless orgasms in and she showed no signs of slowing down. Even now in your stomach you felt another threatening to surface. With tears in your eyes you took in the sight before you, Ambessa huffing and groaning, each of your thighs pooled around her. She was naked, her muscles flexing with each thrust, especially her stomach.

It glistened slightly, wet with you, under the ambient lighting of her bedroom. Her hair was pulled into a bun, a few strands loose and frizzy. You were fixing your lips to ask your General for a release when suddenly she pressed the entire weight of her chest on you, your stomach colliding with hers.

Ambessa slowed her thrust a bit in this position, deeper with its trajectory. Your pussy clenched around her harder, your legs wrapping around her instinctively. You grunted at her weight but appreciated it nonetheless, her warmth overheating your already scorched skin.

She kissed along your shoulders, drinking in your “hah…hah…hah’s” flowing from your mouth. She got close to your ear, nipping at it and rejoicing in the reaction she pulled from your body. It reminded her of the way you’d hitch every time she’d slap your ass.

“ How are you feeling?” She whispered.

You pouted knowing it really meant to report your current standing. She smiled at you still trying to rip your hand from her grip, though now with the strong woman practically swallowing you that was impossible. Even more than before.

“ feeling…tired, g-general.”

“ And?” She prompted.

Good, you thought. So fucking good.

Silence met her, well if you consider whimpers and moans silent. Regardless you didn’t answer, mind too caught up. Instead you closed your eyes, rocking your hips mindlessly against her.

This caused her to slow down even more, instead doing thrust that were deep and harsh, the harness burning against your skin.You yelped, your free hand gripping her bicep. She pulled back slightly, just enough to see your face, gripping your face. You opened your eyes now, weeping.

God, she loved this face. She loved everything about it, the way your skin flushed, your eyes fluttered closed, lips unable to close from all the noises you needed to let out. And don’t get Ambessa started on the salty tears you always offered her. To her, this face was a testament to how good she fucked you. And you looked like this every single time she was inside of you.

“ Hey…” she cooed. “ Stay with me.”

You nodded as best as you could, hoping to appease her.

She smiled down at you, her speed picking up now in what you assumed was a reward. Regardless of the reason, you considered it a reward with the way it sent another rush of pleasure through your stomach.

Deciding that you still weren’t as alert as she needed you, she let go of your chin. Your head immediately sank into the bed, eyes threatening to turn white. Short lived though, before she finally released your hand. She immediately found use for it. She couldn’t help but smile wilder seeing you already got your clit wet for her.

Ambessa thought you were going to combust with the sounds she pulled from you, she wouldn’t have put it off so long if she knew you’d give her such a show. Your legs shook but found no other place to be but around her, toes a second away from curling.

“ t-t…too much—“

You attempted to give yourself relief, using your own hand to rip hers away. That didn’t work of course, her fingers were big and calloused, much stronger than yours. All you earned was a glare, an especially threatening one. Cowardly, you moved it, letting your fingers tangle into the sheets.

Her face softened at this, pace speeding up again to that impossible speed. Sweat melted between the two of you as her breast and stomach pressed into yours.

You thought for a moment you heard a husky whispered ‘so messy’. But you couldn’t be sure, the plap plap plap’s were louder than whatever else echoed in the room.

Something was burning, aching, and it was growing harder to ignore.

“ general! ‘m…gonna cum!”

“ Thats good, Darling.”

Your orgasm didn’t even get to hit you before her large brown hand was wrapped around your throat. Dizziness found you when she applied pressure, each finger squeezing into your neck. Instinctively you jerked slightly, using your hands to paw at it. It did absolutely nothing as you cried, throat tight and oxygen lowering.

“ Go ahead, finish.”

Pouting, desperate nails scratching her knuckles, you finally let go. It felt like a freight train had hit your nerves, every part of you felt like it was on fire. You hadn’t even felt it when you squirted, the only evidence being the stream of wetness down your ass and on Ambessa.

But she didn’t let up, instead she lifted her head so she could look at you again, eyes locked. She kept her thrust up, pressing harder on your throat, you kicked slightly, your ankle hitting her back slightly.

She only smiled.

“ You’ve got it, Darling. You can take it.”

Strength gone, your hands dropped, slump and mind gone. You felt like you were on the brink on unconsciousness, the line between being here and there blurred. But it never blurred the feeling over your orgasm being dragged out, cunt sensitive and weeping.

She nodded proudly at you, relishing in the way your body fought for both pleasure and air.

“ Yes, juuust like that, that’s a good girl.”

Your next orgasm wasn’t as intense but it left your legs shaking, mind empty and a satisfied Ambessa. Once her hand was off your throat you coughed violently. She snuck a hand behind your back, rubbing it. Once you calmed she pulled out of you, effortlessly tossing the harness off.

Wordlessly she picked up your still limp body. You simply crumpled into her, tired beyond belief. She walked around her grand bed frame, laying you down on the left side. She was sure to out your head on the pillows gently. Gently she crouched down next to you, leveled.

You whispered a thank you to her and she returned that with small methodical peppered kisses on your sweaty skin.

“ You did such a good job for me.”

You smiled weakly at her, wondering silently if you could be credited for anything. After all she had been the one doing most of it, just breaking you into two. But you decided that accepting the praise was better than pondering.

“ you did too Ambessa.”

She opted to not correct you. She always thought Ambessa sounded better on your lips rather than general.

“ Such a sweet girl you are.”

[writtendaydreamm]

The On-Call Room

Summary: Y/n and Langdon try to get some rest in the same on-call room but get a little distracted.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW, Smut if you squint

Author's Note: Based on this request. Sort of a prequel to The Hospital Gossip Mill. Let me know your thoughts and feedback!!

Two loud knocks was all it took and Langdon was wide awake. 

Already in a shitty mood having to pull a double today, all he wanted was some peace and quiet. Was that too much to ask? To get just a little bit of sleep in before having to go through another eight hours in the pit. 

Looking down at his watch, he groaned. By now he would’ve been at home, probably getting ready for dinner plans with Y/n. But instead, he was here. At the hospital. Where he has been since 8AM. All because of that nasty bug going around. Already short-staffed, it was one sick call after the next this past week. From doctors, to nurses, to admins - everyone was catching it. One of the few left standing, Langdon took one for the team, staying back to cover Dr. Ellis on the night shift. 

Throwing his legs over the stiff, sorry excuse for a bed the hospital furnished the on-call rooms with, Langdon walked up to the door grumbling to himself. This better be an emergency otherwise someone was about to get ripped a new one. He wrote it clearly on the whiteboard outside: 

DON'T KNOCK, CALL IF URGENT 

Can people not read? Brows furrowed tightly, Langdon yanked the door open wide, raring and ready to unleash the string of profanities on the tip of his tongue until he saw who was in front of him. Y/n.

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” she teased, walking straight past him before he could even get a word out. 

Sticking his head out scanning the halls, he was relieved to see they were empty. No one at work had a clue they were dating and they intended to keep it that way.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be home by now?” he asked trying not to sound too annoyed as he locked the door behind him. 

Yeah, she should have been. The last surgery on her schedule today was a simple hernia repair. It wouldn’t have taken more than an hour. But the patient’s stubborn mother decided to ignore the explicit directions not to feed her 24-year-old man-child any food while he waited for an OR to open up. Now the 20 minute wait for an OR turned into a 6 hour wait for the casserole to digest. 

“I don’t know how she snuck that Tupperware past the nurses,” Y/n snorted, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Looks like we’re both in for a long night.”

Leaning into her touch despite himself, Langdon’s eyes closed instinctively. The feeling of her thumb agaisnt that sensitive spot on the nape of his neck transported him back to the night before. How her fingers brushed against that exact spot, how they worked down his back, the welcomed burn of her nails as they scratched against his skin, the sound of her gasps in his ear as he-

Snap out of it, he told himself. Now was not the time for dirty thoughts about what they did last night. What he needed was to go lay down, not get worked up. Clearing his throat and his mind, he focused on the present.

“The on-call rooms full up there?” 

She nodded. They always were. About to slum it on one of the sofas in the surgical staff lounge, she remembered one of the last texts he sent her:

ED lounge is empty and lonely. 

Wish you were here 

Well, here she was. Wish granted. Sure, it was risky sneaking onto the ED floor. If someone saw her that would’ve been the start of a new rumor for sure. It would’ve spread around the hospital faster than that bug everyone was sick with. But he said it himself, no one was around. And with their dinner plans obviously canceled, this way they can squeeze in more time together. Even if it was spent just napping. 

“You don’t mind, right?” she pouted, looking up at him, willing him to forgive her for waking him up like she had. Batting her lashes, her thumb brushing that spot on his neck that had him like putty in her hands. 

He rolled his eyes. It wasn’t that he minded. It was that he was concerned about getting some actual sleep. He wanted to get at least an hour in before having to go back onto the floor. But two of them, confined in a tiny room with basically nothing but a bed, getting sleep was low on the list of things they could get up to in here. 

What was he supposed to do? Kick her out? Tell her no? He couldn’t. Even when he really wanted to, even when it was the right thing to do, even when she got on his damn nerves - like just now, blatantly ignoring the sign he wrote on the door - he could never say no to her. 

They managed to fit on the small bed slotting into one another like puzzle pieces. It was a tight fit considering these beds were made for one, but neither of them minded. The sheets were scratchy and the pillow paper thin, but with her back against him, his arm draped over her, it was actually kind of cozy. 

After promising no funny business, the room was silent save for the AC burring and their steady breaths. 

Finally dozing off, Langdon suddenly tensed, feeling Y/n shuffle in his arms. Her hips backed into him. It was only slightly but it was right against the one part of his body he had no control over. Assuming it was a one-off, he shuffled himself back a little to create some needed distance between them. But she did it again, just moments after.

Here we go, he groaned to himself. Just what he was afraid of. They were supposed to be sleeping with each other. Not sleeping with each other. 

He wasn’t going to react. Nope. He wasn’t going to give her the pleasure of a reaction, of knowing the effect she had on him. 

Summoning his will power, he fought against his body’s natural, primal response to her body moving against his. It wasn’t easy. Not only did she consume his physical senses, but she consumed his mind as well. Every thought was of her. Memories of her pretty face contorted in pleasure, her bare skin meeting his, her smart mouth stuffed full of him, all glued to the forefront of his mind.

He forced himself to think about that gross bleeder he cauterized this morning and that biker in South 2 with his leg bent out of shape waiting for Ortho, but it did nothing. How could it when with each passing second her movements became more brazen and shameless. Each roll of her hips grating on his self control.

“Y/n, stop,” he warned.

“Stop what?” she mumbled, playing innocent. But there was nothing innocent about what she was doing, the way she grinned her ass into him. It was deliberate and debilitating. 

“You promised,” he scolded. But there was no conviction in his voice. Or in the way he gripped her hips, a vain attempt to stop her before they went too far, before he couldn’t hold himself back. 

“I can’t help myself,” she whispered in a whine. Her hand moved behind her, palming him over his scrubs. Pleased at how hard he had gotten already, she chuckled. ��Seems like neither can you.”

Whatever was left of his fragile resolve crumbled under her touch. His body had betrayed him totally. Fuck it, he thought. He was only human after all. Once again unable to say no, he surrendered to her whim for the second time that night. Placing feather light kisses on her neck, he indulged himself in the feeling of her hand stroking him slowly, sensually. Up and down, up and down. It was just enough pressure to offer relief but not enough to satisfy.

“Y/n,” he said again. This time less like a warning and more like a plea. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

“Good thing I’m a doctor,” she smirked.

“Smartass,” he murmured against her skin. 

No longer fighting his own need for her, his fingers dipped under her scrub pants. Her gasp was quiet and small, but unmistakable as his warm fingers pressed against the growing damp spot on her lacy panties. Feeling just how wet she was already, he nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck whispering against her skin. 

“This what you wanted, huh?” 

Reveling in the sensation of his five o’clock shadow grazing against her skin, of his fingers sliding her panties to the side and slipping between her slick folds, she could only hum in agreement. 

That wasn’t good enough. No, he wanted to hear her say it. 

“Use your words, baby,” he demanded, his middle finger teasing her entrance.

Oh, she loved it when he got like this. All controlling and assertive. The tension in her core tightened. She pulsed against his finger in anticipation. About to speak up, to tell him this was exactly what she wanted, a loud beeping and buzzing beat her to it. 

“Son of a bitch,” he exclaimed louder than he should have. Throwing his head back on the pillow in exasperation, he couldn’t believe his luck. Of course his phone would be going off at this exact moment. 

The sound of Y/n’s laughter filled the room as he answered it. A finger held up to his lips, urgently gesturing her to quiet down. Not just because they could pick it up on the other end, but the way she was laughing they could probably hear her through the walls out in the hallway. Hand taped over her mouth she muffled her laughter as best she could, but this was just too good. A call right as they’re about to really get things started, right when he finally gave in? It wasn’t fair at all, but it was damn funny. 

Langdon was not nearly as amused by all this as she was. Not amused at all actually. The look he gave her as pointed as a knife’s tip. She knew just how to dull that sharpness though. Running a soothing hand up his back, fingers gently massaging the back of his neck, ensuring to touch that sensitive spot again.

The only thing Langdon found more upsetting than getting called back down to the floor early was how easily he folded for her. He was wrapped around her finger, and even worse, she knew it. Dragging a hand over his face, hoping to wipe away his fatigue and frustrations, he let out a deep sigh rising from the bed. They needed an extra set of hands down there, and as shitty as he felt, the patients down there felt a whole lot shittier. 

In the middle of adjusting his scrub pants, trying to conceal the hard-on that hadn’t gone down yet, he paused, confused as to why Y/n was getting out of the bed too. It wasn’t common practice to use other departments’ on-call rooms, but there weren’t any rules forbidding it. “You can stay y’know.”

“I know, but I should go back up anyway. Make sure my patient’s mom isn’t feeding him any more casserole,” she said, only-half joking. “Besides, I’m all strung up after that. No way I’m falling asleep now.” 

He shook his head, a smile creeping on his face as he watched her fix her own clothes. She was nothing but trouble, but she was all his trouble. As she turned towards the door, he grabbed her arm whipping her back around and into him. Face to face, chest to chest, he leaned in taking her by surprise for a change. The kiss was hot and hurried, leaving them both wanting for more. 

“Meet you back here after that hernia repair?” he suggested breathlessly.

Y/n nodded excitedly, “Definitely.”

High off each other, the pair stepped out into the hallway without so much as a second thought. In hindsight they should’ve checked to make sure no one was around, or maybe not walked out at the exact same time. For two people trying to keep their relationship a secret, it was a quite careless thing to do. But it was what they did. And now they had to convince Perlah, who was out in the hallway brows raised in surprise, that there was a totally normal explanation to what she just saw.

“I was just looking for an empty on-call room,” Y/n said, beginning to explain the situation to Perlah. The way she worded it made sense. The on-call rooms up in surgery were full, so she ended up here only to find Langdon already inside the room.

But Perlah did the math in her head and it wasn’t adding up. If Y/n came down to crash in an open room, and Langdon was using the room but is heading back to the ER now, why wasn’t Y/n staying in the room then?

“If he’s leaving, why are you leaving?” she questioned Y/n skeptically.

“Well I just got a call to check on my patient,” y/n answered back smoothly. Not a total lie but definitely not the whole truth. 

“Yeah she got the call exactly the same time I got called back,” Langdon added trying to really sell the idea this was all just some big coincidence and nothing more.

Perlah eyed them both suspiciously, not completely sold on the BS they were throwing at her. But like Langdon, she was working a double too, and didn’t have any extra energy to waste. So, she ignored her inner tsismosa urging her to keep digging for details, and let it slide this time. She left them in the hall, heading into the storage closet across the on-call room, grabbing whatever it was she came down here for in the first place.

Langdon and Y/n exchanged uneasy looks. Worry settling in the pit of their stomachs. Was this it? Had they been caught?

“Do you think she bought it,” Langdon mouthed, barely above a whisper.

Y/n could only shrug and pray that she did.  “Let’s hope so.”

[hxney-lemcn]

A Confession Through Written Words — Housewardens x gn! reader

summery: you confess through a love letter, it doesn't fail to warm his heart.

tw: none.

a/n: idk I was bored

wc: 1.6k (~200 per character)

Master List

❥ Riddle Rosehearts

You had put your all into the presentation of the letter. You tried to make your handwriting as neat as possible while spilling your feelings astutely so as to not overcloud the meaning or make it look like a joke. Perhaps you were overthinking the whole ordeal, but who wouldn’t when confessing your feelings? You had managed to slip the letter into his bag without him noticing. In fact, he wouldn’t find the pristine white letter until he was getting ready for bed. At first he was confused, he hadn’t recalled receiving a letter, but it was addressed to him, and he carefully opened it, making sure to not rip the rose sticker holding the envelope closed. Riddle wasn’t sure what he expected, but it wasn’t a meticulously written love letter from you. His heart rate sped up, his face burning a bright red once he got to the end. He could barely sleep that night, not with you running through his head. The next day he dutifully wrote his own letter as a reply, handing it to you without meeting your eyes. Open it once you’re alone, yeah? He doesn’t think he can handle your reaction even though you were the first to confess. 

❥ Leona Kingscholar

You weren’t sure how to approach Leona with your feelings. He tended to be a bit snarky and you were a bit sensitive about your feelings. You don’t think you could handle him dismissing you or making a rude comment in your moment of vulnerability. So what better way then to write a letter? You knew he wouldn’t mind if it wasn’t perfect, if anything he’d tease you for not saying it to his face, but you could handle that. After you rewrote the letter for the eleventh time, you decided it was good enough and you made your way to Leona’s room. He watched you lazily as you entered. You thought he was asleep, so you placed the letter on his nightstand before taking a seat on his bed. Curiosity ate at him, but he refrained from making any comments, using the guise of sleep to pull you into him so he could finally get some good rest. When you left, he took no time to rip open the letter, carelessly ripping the lion sticker in two. He couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped him, even though he was the best, it was still a surprise to read your genuine feelings for him. He won’t let you worry for long, tomorrow he’ll make sure you know that you're his herbivore. 

❥ Azul Ashengrotto

You had tried to confess to him before, but his suaveness had left you tongue tied everytime. Or when his suave facade crumbled into a genuine care…that left your mind reeling, unable to mutter how much he meant to you. So you wrote a letter, and even though writing how you felt was easier than speaking it…it still wasn’t easy to write. Your trashcan was filled with crumpled up papers with pencil marking scratched out. When you finally had a letter you deemed good enough, you tried to make it look as fancy as you could. Unfortunately, Floyd had snatched the letter the next day before you could even greet him. You watched him run away with genuine horror, hoping that he wouldn’t read it before Azul at the very least. Fortunately for you, Floyd held off on opening it, handing the letter to Azul with an eager smile. Jade watched on as well, somehow already aware of the predicament. Glaring at the two, Azul  opened it later when he was alone in the VIP of Monstro Lounge. He had recognized your handwriting right away, carefully thumbing the pearl sticker before opening it with a letter opener. Azul could barely get through the first sentence without becoming an overheated mess. He’s another one tossing and turning that night. Instead of blatantly stating his feelings out in the open, he offers you to go on a date so you know that he’s serious about you as well. 

❥ Kalim Al-Asim

You had tried to confess to him…many times. Every time you told him you loved him, he just smiled back and told you he loved you too…but you knew he didn’t understand you meant it romantically. Every hand hold, cheek kiss, hell, you both had cuddled multiple times and he never seemed to get that you were interested in him as more than just a friend! So you decided to write exactly how you felt, getting all your messy feelings out in the open. With how bubbly he was, you didn’t feel too awkward handing him the letter in person, only telling him to read it later when he’s alone. Unbeknownst to you…Kalim had almost lost your letter multiple times that day. Not that he doesn’t care for you! He’s just a bit of an air head that has too much on their mind. Please thank Jamil for hanging on to it, reminding Kalim to read it after dinner was over. When Kalim finally read the letter (after fawning over the adorable golden retriever sticker), he couldn’t contain his excitement. He almost ran straight to your dorm if it weren’t for Jamil blocking him. Expect multiple gifts the next day along with more affection than you thought was possible. Kalim needs to get his bouts of cute aggression out, and what better way than drowning you in jewels?

❥ Vil Schoenheit

As much as you adored Vil, he was a bit…intimidating. His lilac gaze could pierce through the toughest metal, but it could also melt the coldest heart. You had unsurprisingly found yourself falling for the star, but you couldn’t help but feel like a fan no matter how you thought approaching him with your feelings. If anything, the letter felt like the most cliche fan stereotype ever, and even though he called you a friend, you feared he’d take it the wrong way. So you decided a letter was the best bet, that way you didn’t have to see his reaction. Yet when you had tried to sneak the letter to him, it was out of your hands in the blink of an eye and you stared in horror as Rook offered it to Vil. At first, Vil thought it was fanmail, staring at it with slight disdain, but he opened it anyway, not caring how the crown sticker tore. He barely scanned over the letter until he read your name at the very end, eyes glancing up to see your terribly anxious expression. So he reread it, this time carefully scrutinizing over every word, and although a letter wasn’t exactly how he wanted you to confess, he still felt his heartbeat increase with every lovely feeling you felt towards him. Closing the letter, he watched fondly as you fidgeted, clearing his voice and demanding you to ask him on a date properly. 

❥ Idia Shroud

You had been secretly fawning over Idia for so long you felt like you were going to burst. You had wanted to confess to him for so long…but you feared that you’d break the poor man. So you decided to write him a letter…er more like a text. You weren’t sure if he’d even know how to open a letter… Poor, poor Idia. He nearly had five heart attacks when he saw your chat bubble appear for twenty minutes then disappear only to appear again. He tried to play his game, ignore the damned three dots that kept taunting him, but his eyes couldn’t stop trailing down to his phone. Do you know how many times you caused him to die? Oh boy, and when you did send it? The little blue heart at the end had nearly ended him before he even read a word! He had read and reread the text so many times you couldn’t even count, and don’t mind that he screenshotted it and saved it to a super secure private photo album so only he could see it. Don’t expect a reply. He’s too busy having a meltdown, hair burning a bright pink for the rest of the night. Do expect Ortho to ramble about how happy his brother got the night before, unsure of why but happy nonetheless. And when Ortho finds out why? Expect a text from Idia saying that he doesn’t mind your presence too much…yes Ortho forced him to say something back and yes that was him confirming that he likes you back.

❥ Malleus Draconia

Malleus was traditional to an extent, that was something anyone could tell. He also always had you feeling like you were living in a fantasy romance novel with the way he treated you. You hadn’t even thought of confessing your feelings in person, a letter seeming like a traditional and very Malleus adjacent confession. You tried your best to write with fancy curling letters…if you failed at that task…that's up to you. What stumped you was how to give it to him. In those old timey romance movies and novels they sent it through the mail…but you both lived on the same grounds. Handing it to him seemed a bit too forward, and you either didn’t trust or felt too embarrassed to ask his retainers to pass it to him. But you sucked it up and went to your safest option, Silver. Malleus was surprised to have a letter handed to him, another one to open it with a letter opener. He felt his breath hitch with each word you lovingly wrote, warmth blooming in his chest. Like the gentleman he is, he writes you a loving letter back (one that you can barely read with how loopy the cursive was), and it’s the most poetic thing you have ever read. Be prepared to cry at how much he loves you. 

[ouran1a]

sucking Jerry off while he whines and whimpers his way through explaining dnd to me but he just ends up yanking my head up and down his cock HEHEHAHSHHAHAHA

rating: R for slutty ass blowjob scene

also i wrote the words “dick and balls” and immediately thought of the south park ‘dickin balls’ or wtv and bursted out laughing at work <3

“a-and so the…uh-ngh-“

Jerry felt like he was going fucking insane. his face was too hot, his hands were embarrassingly clammy, gut churning, throat burning as he forced down his pathetic little mewls and whines, it was too much.

you were too much.

you’d called him up a few hours ago begging him to show you how to create your Dungeons and Dragons character since Bill was being, in your words, “a goddamned fart-sucker”, and being the good friend he was, he agreed to help. Jerry thought of himself as the most normal around chicks, he was a nervous wreck, sure, but he didn’t insult them like Bill or stare like Josh or perv on them (outwardly) like Pete, he held normal conversations and exchanged greetings, just an average dude having average interactions with average females.

but this wasn’t average, there wasn’t a fucking average way to suck your friend’s dick, there wasn’t an average way to claw down his stomach and hips and thighs and leave angry red lines, not a fucking thing was average about the look you were giving him or the soft ‘gluck! gluck! gluck!’ noises that made his head spin. Jerry’s mouth fell open, slack-jawed as he gently, almost nervously, cradled your face, bony fingers starting to pull you in deeper as his bonier hips twitched and jumped your face.

god, he’d felt like such a fucking pervert when your first got here, sweats hung low and loose on your hips, that tiny little sliver of your tummy and your tits practically hanging out of your stupidly slutty take top, Jerry had so selfishly wanted to rip it off you and slam you down onto his bed, muffling your moans with his Totoro plushy you’d gotten him while nose deep in your puffy cunt. Instead, however, he’d simply smiled sweetly like he always did, hand up in Vulcan salute while you both plopped down on his bed—

“fuck—“ Jerry rasped when you slid your head back to his tip and prodded at his dick hole with your tongue. A long, pathetically whiny groan slipped from his wobbly lips as you slid right back down, trying to force himself to meet your intense stare. You’d been looking at him like that all fucking night, pupils blown wide and smile downright evil. he felt his dick twitch as one of your soft hands came up to cradle his balls, “o-oh my fucking god—“ he cringed at the sound of his voice; raw and needy.

you smiled and pulled off his cock with a dull ‘pop!’, laughing as he strained to not yank your pretty face back down and suffocate you agaisnt the mess of blonde pubes he sported, “you never finished your sentence, Jer,” oh, fuck right off. Jerry felt a hot flash of annoyance thrum alongside the aching pleasure shooting down his spine at the shit-eating grin plastered on those spit-shiny lips, his big hands clenched in your hair, two messy handfuls of your locks between his fingers, “c-can’t r’member,” he huffed. he watched you laughed again at his pouty face and yanked your face back down to his crotch, “…please— fuck I-I’m so close babe,” he let the pet name slip out, a boyish fluttering of his heart following the sound.

you smiled, a warm one this time, and pressed a sweet kiss to the junction of his dick and balls that made his heart and cock tug. your soft hands stroked him slowly, a tight fist giving him just enough pressure to feel the breathe get knocked outta him when you paired it with sucking and kissing his balls. Jerry felt his gut twist, his muscles clenched and he doubled over you, hands cradling your head as close to his cock as he could, “o-oh— shit- fuck- f-fuck shit—“ he rambled, thighs quivering when you wrapped those lips around his tip again and sucked hard.

Jerry’s hips pumped up and down, dragging his cock in and out of your head while he held you steady by the hair, gathering up your silky locks in one hand while the other wrapped around your neck. he moaned louder when his thumb pressed down and he felt his dick sliding down, felt your throat tense and go lax as you got used to his quick tempo. Jerry’s hands both flexed as he got closer, choking you just a bit and pulling your hair just a smidge too tight, “I-I’monna c-shit! O-ohmyfuckinggod I’m gonna cum- r-right down your fucking throat,”

you got no other warning when both hands yanked you down to the very base of his cock, nose smushed against his pelvis while his spunk shot out and flooded your throat. Jerry was unabashed at this point, loud moans and throaty sighs as he held you in place, his entire body shaking while his cock shot spurt after spurt out. you gagged on the suffocating feeling and he gasped softly, eyes rolling back at the feeling and hips grinding into your face.

he was so lost in the pleasure that it took you slapping his sensitive hips covered in your nails marks before he slowly slid your head off his dick. you swallowed what you could, gasping and coughing as he just sat above you, staring down with what you can only describe as ‘awestruck’ while you struggled to catch your breathe.

after a few second of silence, both of you heaving and gasping for air, he spoke up first,

“…you’d uh.. you’d probably work best as a mage.”

[allywthsr]

WRONG PERSON | (l.norris)

summary: you send a sexy video to some tinder guy, until you realize you tapped Lando‘s contact instead, you both help the other to finish what you started

wordcount: 2.4k words

pairing: landonorris x fem!reader

warnings: smut!, talking about toys, details about masturbation, phone sex, dirtytalk

notes: inspired by this!!! Tell me what you think, I‘m still scared to write smut, hope you all like this🫣

You were working for Quadrant, it wasn’t like you were some important boss or something, you mostly dealt with customers and sometimes got to plan a video, but Lando still took the time and got to know you. When the whole team went out for dinner, Lando talked to everyone for at least twenty minutes, he wanted to know who was working for him and his brand.

There was no denying you found him handsome, everybody thought he was pretty, but you needed to hide your excitement in your panties whenever he was near you. Not only did he make eye contact every time you two talked, but he also smelled delicious, you wanted to rip his clothes off, the whole time he was near you.

But back to where you were now, laying in bed naked, at almost one am, with your phone in your hand. You were single and desperate, texting with guys from Tinder, who were not worth more than a quick fuck, but you were young and had your needs.

With your phone in one hand, and your left boob in the other, you recorded a small video, where you were squeezing your boob and moaned slightly. You‘ve been snapchatting with a guy you met on Tinder, both of you were horny and needed a release, so why not help each other? You quickly wrote a text to the video, to make it more seducing, ’ You make me so wet…‘ and taped on the slot on Snapchat where he was for the last few snaps, before you could double check that you selected him, you hit sent and threw the phone next to you.

While you waited for his answer, your hand slowly made its way to your pussy, circling your wet clit. With a moan, you teased yourself and kept stopping the sensation in your most private area. When you heard the Snapchat notification tone, you took your phone in your hand and only saw that Lando send you a snap, it wasn’t unusual that he would snap you, you two were streaking after all, but at that time was a little odd, because you were kinda bored and waiting for your guy to reply, you withdraw your fingers from your wet cunt and opened Lando’s snap.

With a gasp, you threw away your phone, the first photo was a normal snap, a picture of his bedroom with some series on Netflix playing, but when you tapped on the screen to exit the snap, a new picture popped up. You could see his hand holding his boxershorts clothed dick, he was hard and big, long and thick. He also wrote a little text, you had to read it twice, making sure your mind wasn’t playing tricks on you, ’was this meant for me, babygirl?‘

You didn’t know what to do, so you did nothing for a few seconds, you didn’t feel horny anymore, suddenly aware of the cold air hitting your still-hot pussy. Should you reply and apologize, saying how you accidentally sent your boss a nude, and look him in the eye at the next dinner? Impossible.

You thought about leaving the country and starting all over again, where no one knew Lando, but that wasn’t a solution either, you had to face him and say that it wasn’t meant for him. But how can you get rid of the image in your head of his dick, the only thing that was roaming through your brain right now was how lucky his future wife would be. With a dick like that, she sure would be happy for the rest of her life.

You excited the snap and took a deep breath, what were you going to say, sorry I send you a nude, but your dick looks nice? No. It took you at least two minutes to think about it and when you took a picture of half your face and started writing a paragraph of apologies, your phone showed you an incoming call.

Lando Norris.

Shit. Your whole body tensed, you couldn’t answer, you just had to pack your things and go, leave London and Lando behind, but something in you didn’t want that, and after what seemed like hours, you did answer the call.

”Hey Lando, look uhm, I‘m sorry I sent you that video, it wasn’t meant for you, obviously. B…But thank you for responding, I mean that picture was nice, but I don’t think that this uhm professionalism between us should be broken. If.. if you want me to leave Quadrant, I‘ll do that.. uhm I’m sorry for sending you that, and I-“

”Y/N, will you stop rambling?“, his voice sounded like he was out of breath, you started shaking when you heard him speak.

”I‘m sorry, for rambling and sending you the video.“

He chuckled, ”Don’t be, maybe you could’ve seen by my response, that I wasn’t mad about it. Sure having your employee suddenly sending you a video where she squeezes her boob and moans, isn’t something I‘d expect, but you have beautiful boobs.“

You didn’t know what to say, so the only thing that came out of your mouth was a: ”Thank you?“, you could hear your heartbeat in your chest, the silence on the other line panicked you.

”But, maybe this is unprofessional of me now, but you left me in a kind of hard situation, Y/N. I bet you’re still wet if your fingers would slide between your legs, aren’t you?“

Your breath hitched, was this for real? Was Lando Norris, your boss, dirty talking to you?

”I..I don’t know, it was a pretty big shock to see you replying, I‘m not as horny as I was ten minutes ago.“

”Then I want you to glide your hand over your boobs and stomach, down to your pussy, I bet it’s pretty, and then tell me how wet you are.“

With a small sigh, you did what he told you, gliding over your boobs and stomach to your pussy, you touched your entrance slightly and felt yourself pulsating, you may not be as horny anymore, but your wetness said otherwise, maybe a part of you already found it hot that Lando actually replied to you.

”Fuck, I‘m so wet Lando.“

You heard a moan from the other line and some sheet rustling, ”Baby, I want you to touch yourself like you would do without me. Finger yourself, rub your clit, do whatever satisfies you. I‘m hard as a rock baby, I need to touch myself too, I wish you were here to do it for me.“

You did as Lando told you, rubbing your clit in circles and feeling yourself come closer to the edge, this whole situation was so hot, it turned you on so badly.

”Please touch yourself, Lando, I wish I was there to help you.“

”I could eat you out until you’re crying and begging me to stop because you would be overstimulated.“

Another moan escaped your mouth and slowly you let your fingers slip into you, which was no problem due to your wetness, but it wasn’t enough, you needed more, thankfully Lando seemed to know what you were thinking when he heard your unsatisfied moans.

”Do you need more baby? Are your fingers not enough, you need my dick to stretch you out?“

You let out whiny and breathy ’yes‘, this situation was so bizarre but hot at the same time.

”Do you have any toys, Y/N? I want you to use a toy on yourself.“

”I..I do.“

”Show me.“

”Can we switch to FaceTime? It’s easier, and I want to see you.“

Lando hummed and muttered a quick goodbye before the screen with the call disappeared, the only thing you could see on your phone now was the picture you took a few minutes ago, and before you could do anything else, the FaceTime call from Lando came in. You answered without thinking about it and you were greeted with a big and girthy dick, and your mouth watered a little. You held the phone up, so he could see your face and your boobs, which he commented with a quiet ’fuck‘.

”Show me your toys, baby.“

You quickly got up and propped the phone against your lamp that stood on the nightstand, while you looked under your bed to fish out the box with your toys. It wasn’t like you were some pornstar and had thousands of toys, but over the years you had collected a fair amount of little helpers.

By now Lando had switched back to his face, so you could see his little beard and his eyes, he kept biting his lower lip, while watching you.

You opened your box and grabbed the first toy you saw, a standard dildo, it was skin-colored and a bit longer and thicker than the normal ones. You showed it to Lando and he groaned, tilting his head back, ”Is that your favorite?“, he asked.

You shook your head and pulled out a pink satisfyer, it was a mixture of a vibrator and dildo, but it also had a clit sucking element. That one was your favorite, you had spent hours with this beauty, and it never left you hanging. ”This is my favorite, you don’t know how good this feels.“

”Tell me about it.“

”It’s so fucking good, Lando. This clit sucking thing? It feels like heaven, it gets me there within a few minutes, the fastest I‘ve ever had an orgasm.“

”I bet I could get you there faster.“

That statement left you with a smirk, only the thought of Lando going down on you, made your head spin, you needed that.

”I can see that you’re imagining it right now, I bet you taste amazing, I would finger you, while lapping at your clit, you would be so full.“

You shut your eyes, and whined, your pussy clenching around nothing.

”What else do you have in there?“

”I have a wand“, you lifted the typical wand and dropped it on the bed, ”I also have a rabbit vibrator, and this“, you lifted another pink vibrator, but this one was smaller.

”You know what this is for, Lando?“

”I‘ve seen it in porn“, he smirked, ”have you ever let someone control it while being somewhere public?“

You nodded, it was a vibrator that you would insert into your pussy and it could be controlled with an app, you‘ve only used it once with someone.

”I was on a date with someone from Tinder, and we‘d been sexting for days and I gave him the app and he controlled it over dinner, it was an experience and I loved it.“

”I want to control it in our next meeting, seeing you tremble over some video ideas is going to be fucking hot.“

Another wave of pleasure rushed through your body, you couldn’t believe you were talking that way with your boss, unbelievable.

”I want you to use that rabbit on you.“

You chuckled, and held the rabbit vibrator into the camera, ”This one?“

Lando nodded eagerly, with a smirk you opened your mouth, dared your tongue out, and licked a long stripe over the part that goes inside of you. After a few licks, you put it fully in your mouth and started sucking it.

You could see how Lando started touching himself again, his eyes closed every now and then and he let out small whimpers. This was your sign that you needed to touch yourself too, so you laid on the bed and flipped the camera to your lower part, where the vibrator was circling your clit. Lando also flipped the camera and you saw his dick that was already leaking pre cum, he moved his thumb over his tip every now and then while moving his cock through his fist, collecting the white fluid. Due to your wetness, the vibrator slipped inside of you with ease, you turned it on and gasped when you felt the vibrations.

”Do you like that? Having your pussy stuffed.“

”Yes, Lando, yes. I need you here next to me.“

”I need you too, wrapped around my cock, you would be screaming and keeping up the neighbors all night.“

With a loud moan, you could feel yourself getting closer to a release, the tip edging your clit made you almost scream and the way you moved the vibrator in and out of you, made you see stars. Lando also was about to cum, he saw that your pussy got wetter and wetter, your fluids squeezing out of your cunt every time the vibrator left it.

”I’m about to cum, Y/N. Show me your face, are you cumming soon?“

You moaned loudly again and flipped the camera, just like Lando did, “Yes, Lando, I wish it was you filling me so well.“

With a loud moan and a lot of curses, Lando spilled his cum all over his hand and stomach, he quickly flipped the camera again, now showing you the mess he created, “That’s all for you, baby, I wish it was inside of you instead on the stomach. Cum for me Y/N, let go.“

While he said those words to you, you felt yourself falling over the edge, with moans and grunts. Lando was sure he never heard something so sexy, those sounds alone made him horny again, he needed to feel you close.

When both of you came down from your highs, you two let out a laugh, realizing what you just did, you had phone sex with your boss, but it felt right and good, and the way his cum sat on his stomach, made you horny again, you needed him.

“You feeling better now?“

“Lando, you’ve no idea, so much better than the weird Tinder guy the video actually was for.“

“I bet, but I still need you, Y/N.“

“Are you in London?“

He hummed.

“Well, my bed is cold without you in it, if you want, my pussy is ready for you, Lando.“

“Send me your address, I’ll be over in ten minutes, you better not start without me, or you’ll get punished.“

Part two

taglist: @millinorrizz @jamieeboulos @loxbbg

[karlachismylife]

Wrote the intro the day I started this work and decided to leave it since it reflects the shitstorm in my head quite well, eh.

Okay Idk what it is with me today (I actually do know, I'm having a bad fucking night as a consequence of my own actions but I prefer not to think about it), but I just thought about task force 141 and reader that has such a bad withdrawal after their orgasm that they actually cry and not in a fun way (cue my lack of understanding how crying in bed can ever be fun, but i'm not here to kinkshame)

CW: NSFW (so minors and ageless blogs DNI, I'll block you), but there's barely any sex, hurt/comfort, body image issues, low self-esteem, chubby/fat!reader, written with afab!reader in mind (but most parts can be read as gn), potential mental health issues (?), thoughts of selfloathing and selfharm, smoking mentioned once at the end. Very self-indulgent and I'm definitely unwell, so yeah. It's also more focused on reader's inner shitstorm than the guys in many places so idk if this even really is enjoyable...

Starts as a single piece, then splits into individual blurbs/drabbles/oneshots + some polyamory cuz I'm spoiling myself today having done nothing to deserve it, lol.

They vary in size and tone since I've been writing them through several ups and downs in my own mental state, so please don't take this as a sign of which characher/combo is my favourite. I'm greedy, I like everything.

This is unfair.

Like, you just had wonderful sex, probably came more than once in a short period of time, ears stuffed with cotton, limbs weak, head spinning... and it keeps spinning, sweet tingling on the skin turning into nasty rushes of cold, muscles too tense, but it's not a cramp.

You feel like shit, every possible hormonal and neuromediator crash downing on you, a hollow, depressing weight in your chest instead of a sweet afterglow. Sweat and cum feel disgusting on you skin, your skin feels disgusting, strangling, your whole body seems revolting, too heavy, too sluggish. A sticky, suffocating heatwave on your nape, but your chest is cold and covered in goosebumps, a feverish feeling clogging every pore. Nausea wrenches into your stomach and stops just before you can relievingly barf and get rid of this parasite inside.

You simply want to dig your nails into your own shoulders instead of his and rip the skin and meat off, free yourself from this burden (you're the burden). Each second as he stays blissfully unaware, holding you tightly with his big hands and panting into the crook of your neck, drags on like a hundred hours of pure torture - the torture of being yourself.

Throwing up feels like an appropriate reaction to how unappealing and ugly you feel.

You're spiraling. You couldn't fucking keep your own messed up emotional outburst - completely unreasonable and unprovoked, by the way - to yourself, and now it's going to be noticed. You'll ruin someone else's fun. Make it all about yourself when you've already been nothing but doted on, cared and provided for. Fucked so good that your body is still clenching around that magnificent cock deep inside you.

And you're fucking crying, like an ungrateful, egotistical brat. Never having enough, unable to provide something as simple as a hole to make someone else happy without fucking it up.

Ghost notices immediately. There's nothing that can escape this man, and definitely not his love's distress. He's not reacting immediately for a sole reason: he's frozen in fear, horrified that he made you cry. How - he's not sure, he always takes great care to stay within limits, never allows himself to push you further than you both agree on. But what if he slipped up? What if he got carried away? Did he cause pain? Did he say something hurtful in the heat of the moment?

"Fuck. Hey, hey, lovie... look at me... wha's wrong? Did I... did I hurt ya?" Good thing you're hiding your face and your red eyes so desperately that you can't see how distressed and downright terrified Simon looks, lost at the sight of your tears. When you shake your head and attempt to push him away to hide your pathetic sobbing, he somewhat calms down and brings his big calloused hands to cradle your face, gently prying your own palms away and holding your puffy cheeks tenderly. His thumbs brush your tears away as he holds you, holds you through the growing rage fit of touch aversion, through the shudders and actual wailing. At some point he moves his palm to cover your eyes, a dry, dark blinder to keep the world around you shut out, help you concentrate on his voice.

He's not talking, just humming, a familiar, deep, grumbling noise that soothes all the flashes of anger, hate and disgust in your brain. You're tired now, like you're always are after such an intense outburst, and as you go limp, he finally pulls away, only to pick you up - barely a strain, a direct spit in the face of your own insecurity - and bring you to the bathroom. A warm shower evens your distorted body temperature out, his hands running over your body and cleaning all the stickiness away bring back peace with your own skin. After a quick rinse Simon holds you, your head cradled against his chest, until you make a weak attempt to help him wash too - he lets you trace his body, that perfection you adore with all its old wounds, sores and scars, for a bit, and then finishes himelf.

Gives you fresh cotton underwear and his hige T-shirt, still holding you around your shoulders and keeping the comfortable pressure even while he changes the bedsheets, kissing your temple as you find it in yourself to help.

It's only after you settle on top of him, nice, clean comforter protecting your back against the world, head on his chest right next to his heart beating in a steady rythm, he finally breaks silence.

"Need anything else, lovie?" Just like that. No prying, no occusations, nothing that would put you on the spot. You can ask him to bring you the moon soaked in unicorn's milk, and he'll just nod, kiss your hand and start dressing up, already calling Johnny to ask where the fuck did Scots hide their last horned horse and if he happens to know where they enlist astronauts.

"Just you."

His grip on the small of your back tightens and you feel his uneven, scarred lips graze the top of your head.

"Ya've got me. Always."

Soap is running hot like a furnace, still shivering and panting after what he considers the best sex he has ever had (every time with you is). He lifts his face, buried into the crease of your neck previously, and starts peppering you with slightly sloppy, grateful kisses - your neck, your jaw, your lips, your...

When he tastes your tears and opens his unbelievably blue eyes to see your expression contorted in disgust, he panics. Pulls away immediately, hands both itching to grab you and shake a reason for that look on your face out of you and too scared to touch you in case this hatred is directed at him.

"Whit's wrong, leannan? Are ye a'right? Ye didnae lik' it? Shite, lass, Ah'm so sorry, Ah didnae mean tae-" He stops yapping only when he notices the way your lips tremble as you try to plead with him, sobbing that it's not his fault.

"'M sorry, I ruined it... I'm so sorry, sushine, I just... fuck I wish I wasn't so bloody sick in the head and ugly..." Speaking out loud only worsens your anger, directed solely at yourself, and you try to wipe your eyes furiously. As the tears keep rolling, your frustration only grows - maybe if you yanked your own hair really good or slapped the disgusting pudgy cheek you've despised ever since chidhood as everyone kept pointing out how big they were...

"Ye didnae just call the love of mah fucking life ugly." Johnny's voice is a mix of a harsh order to cut your bullshit and pure disbelief. His huge paws wrap themselves around your wrists, stopping you both from harming yourself and covering your face. You're forced to look at him, and as you do, you see his handsome face flushed with a passionate anger at the intrusive thoughts in your head, heavy frown in his thick eyebrows and the sea in his eyes dark and deep enough to drown a whole fleet. You'd be scared if it wasn't obvious how hurt he is underneath it all - like a kid whose favourite plushie just got mocked by his classmates.

"It's just a toy," adults would say, and they would be bloody wrong.

"Tis not a toy, tis mah friend."

You're his friend. His love. His heart, his soul, his everything - he whispers that frantically, kissing you over and over, hot palms running over your body, wiping the cold, the stickiness, the goosebumps away. You don't have time to think, to spiral again, you're drowning in that exact sea that's spilling from his eyes, staring at you with pure devotion - a sea of affection, admiration, love, love, love.

Johnny nuzzles up to you like an animal seeking comfort, hides into your chest, right after he kisses your sweaty double chin, breathes in deeply, lets go of your soft shoulders only to grab two handfuls of your tummy, kneading it, warming up the stale blood, squeezing your big thighs between his and getting lost in the frenzy - he honestly doesn't even remember already that he was comforting you, he's fully in the worshipping mode, leaving you no chance to dip even a single toe into the self-conscious thoughts again.

You'll just have to stay there, every single tear lapped up from your face, and accept every greedy touch and word of a man utterly in love with you. Even the messed up parts.

Gaz keeps his cool despite how distraught even the thought of your sadness makes him. First of all he moves aside to give you space, makes sure you're not hurt, asking in his usual kind - unbelievably kind, so much that you burst into tears again, feeling undeserving of such unapologetically soft treatement, tone.

"Shh, shush, gorgeous, you're not hurt, are you? It's okay, c'mere, jus-st like tha', very good, love," praises keep spilling from his tender lips as he carefully helps you sit up, simply dragging you away from the damp from sweat and everything else spot on the sheets. He ends up balancing half his bare ass off the edge of the bed, but it doesn't bother him in the slightest as he feels you already coming back from that hopeless place as soon as your body gets stuck between clean, dry and a bit cool sheet and Kyle's firm lean body of a litearal god - or a prince, at least.

His deft fingers are already at work, massaging your scalp, chasing the tension away, but the second he feels you grow uncomfortable with the repetitive movement, he stops and retreats to simply holding you in a steady, reliant embrace. You know he's good with his words, that's how he got you, swept off your feet completely and made you swoon with sweet compliments, hilarious snark and smart talk.

You just don't expect him to do it all over again in the face of your burdened mind crumbling in the paradise.

"Talk to me, angel. Let me inside that pretty head, hm?"

It takes this sweettalker just a couple of words to coax whatever that ugly, slimy knot in your throat is, out. You sob, retelling Kyle every single thought that has been stuck in that coagulated mess in your head, spill the bile that has been burning your retching throat, out in the open, for him to see the disgusting ugliness of your insides - matching your outside.

Somehow throughout your choking trade his soft, careful hand never leaves your back, rubbing circles of different radius and intensity into your skin to keep the aggression at monotonous touch at bay.

"Must've been some terrible person to overbear your spirit and plant all those lies in your mind, angel." You don't catch the meaning of his words at first, glancing at him confused and whoozy after you exploded with self-deprication. Those dark, calm eyes look at you no different than before: quiet, calm reverence and determination. A thread of spider's silk, thin as a hair, but stronger than steel, his love does not waver. Were you in the right state to actually pay attention, you would've seen it only grow.

"Well, beautiful, this isn't how I planned to start writing poetry, but since you insisted... maybe I can think of a diss track about you."

"A diss track?.." Poor you, so upset that you can't catch onto the mischievous glint in his eyes and that silly smooth sarcasm slipping into his words. You're actually half a step away from believing he would diss you, destroying that already non-existent self-esteem once and for all.

"Yup. Gotta diss-tract you from all that bullshit in your head for good. Unless you'd rather me fuck it out of you instead?"

You cannot not smile at that, even if it's a weak, timid smile. Kyle's face still lights up as if he sees an actual angel, bringing the good grace or whatever.

"There ya go. First step of the mission? Success. Permission to continue? I repeat, permission to continue?"

"You spend too much time with Simon. Permission granted..."

Price undrstands what's going on before he even hears your first sob, the tension in your body and the change in your breath telling him all he needs to know. There's enough experience in this man for the both of you, he has learnt to read people and immediately accomodate them in a way that serves a common goal so long ago that it's a secong nature already.

Your comfort is that common goal.

With a grunt, he rolls you over, planting you firmly on top of his warm, burly body. Untucking your head from his hairy chest, he holds your face and does not let you concentrate on anything but his stern, focued gaze under those bushy eyebrows - but there's still that undeniable tenderness in his eyes that's always there whenever John looks at you.

His voice sounds usual too: a calm, commanding, but not harsh tone, not a loud bark any of his subordinates would hear, yet still an order. "Look at me, darling. Tha's right, look at me, look at your John. You shut whatever's going through that troubled mind of yours out and let me take care of the rest, a'right? Can you do that for me, darling? I know you can. I'll do all the thinking for ya, eh?"

Giving control over to him feels natural at any other moment, but right now you're too deep in the trenches of the war with your own mind, hissing at you with pure disgust for being so selfish. Really, now? Had to use this sweet, caring man for your own needs, and now you're dumping all your perverted, fucked up baggage on him too?

"Nuh-huh, ya're still thinking. Told ya to cut if off. You know that's not you thinking right now, dontcha? You're a smart one, love, ya know shit like this happens. And when shit happens, who are you going to to deal with it, huh?" His deep voice rumbles in his chest, seeps into your clogged ears, fills your skull with the unyielding determination and leaves no room for your own dark thoughts.

When you hesitate to answer, John slides his rough palms over your back, tracing your soft rolls and landing onto the pudge of your hips, squeezing lightly to remind you who's in charge and what your task is. "Who is there for ya to deal with shit that happens, hm, darling? Need ya to tell me."

You want to hide, escape his demand for an answer, but he keeps you firmly in his embrace, a gaze of steel unmoving from you. It almost makes you tear up again, almost feels mean of him to put you on the spot, when all you want to do is curl up in a dark corner and stay there for all eternity. But the love you have for this man overpowers even the seething hatred you bear for yourself, so you give up and murmur meekly: "You..."

"Tha's right, darling, it's your John. I'm here to deal with everything that bothers ya. Everything, ya hear? Tha's me job. Your job is to stay wit' me 'n' not overthink, eh? Especially not when it's just hormons making ya feel bad." You have nothing else left to do, other than sniffle into his chest and melt under a warm kiss he plants on your crown. "How about a cuppa, eh, darling? And something just as sweet as ya for a bite. Ya'll feel better in no time, I promise."

Ghost and Soap cancel each other's panicking out. As soon as both you and Simon slip out of the sweet afterglow, falling backwards each into your own pit of self-doubt and spiraling, Johnny starts babbling, terrified at the thought of both his beloved people feeling worse after being with him. His slurred, panting words and frantic kisses help Simon shake of his own horror - in return, he squeezes Johnny's shoulder to slow the worried mutt down and redirect his energy into helping you. Soap tenses up under the firm touch of his Lieutenant, then relaxes again, leaning into him for a moment to collect himself - they charge from each other, mere seconds of feeding off each other's energies in the middle of a time-limited mission with the highest stakes: your well-being.

They exchange glances, no words needed after the way their work together almost makes them mindreaders to each other, and turn back to you as you lay there, face painfully contorted in an attempt to keep the black foamy bile you feel rising in your throat from spilling. Slow, sticky, angry tears run down your flabby cheeks, and with each millimetre they go, your scalding wish to gouge your eyes out with your bare hands grows, just to punish yourself for being ungrateful after two perfect men spent so much of their time making you feel good.

"Dinnae cry, bonnie. Ye're a'right, ye're 'ere, wit' us. Right, LT? We're nae gonnae let ye marinate in whitevur got ye so upset." The pressure from inside your body that threatened to burst you open into a messy explosion of bile and rot, gets evened out from outside by Johnny's tight hug. He squeezes you up to the painful point, cradling against his broad chest, holding the fort while Simon leaves the bed, but not without kissing both your palms and holding them against his lips until he feels the cold leave your fingertips.

"Oi, Johnny. Help lovie get in 'ere," he calls out several minutes later out of the bathroom. Soap, who has been holding you and allowing you to sob against his heart this whole time, stroking your sweaty hair and murmuring every word of love he knows, scoops you up immediately. He pads over with you in his arms to where a warm bath is already filled thanks to Simon, and when you react to the temperature with another wave of tears, they both reach out to the tap simultaneously.

"Is tha' a'right, bonnie?" You make a strangled noise as Johnny finally sets you down into much cooler now water. It soothes you, makes you feel instantly cleaner, smaller, lighter. Breathing gets easier, that swollen blob of anger and disgust shrinking down in your chest and allowing you to inhale bathroom's damp air normally. You open your mouth to apologize and get cut off before even a single syllable leaves your mouth.

"Don't," Simon's voice sounds gruff, but even his murky reflection in the rippling water looks genuinely soft towards you. They're both perched on the cold bath edge, naked and seemingly not caring about that at all. "Jus' let us take care of you, yeah, love? Tha's what we're here for. Tha's what we want to do."

"Well, actually, there's one more thing," Johnny interjects, causing you to finally lift your sullenly lowered head and look at him, Simon's big palm using this moment of distraction to press onto your back in silent support. "Can Ah make ye a foam beard? Please, bonnie? Ye jus' 'ave the prettiest sweetest cheeks fur tha'."

Soap and Gaz feel like their world is sinking into a whirlwind of stormy clouds, the kind that sucks all light out of sky in mere seconds and can't be cut through even by blinding flashes of lightnings. There is no sun in their skies if you're not smiling, and the sound of your muffled sniffles hits their eardrums harder than thunder or explosions. The frowns distorting their faces only make you more self-aware of the fact that you ruined things between you - the initial hysteria starts rapidly flowing into complete shutdown, threatening to turn you into an emotionless shell for unknown period of time, when several warm, big hands intervene and cut the depressing trajectory down at its root.

"Damn, we did a shit job fucking all your thoughts out, didn't we, angel?" Kyle's joke sounds soft, teasing, but empathetic, ready to be met with sobs or silence instead of the usual laughter that flashes your teeth at him and makes his own smile grow brighter.

"Aye, we did. If anythin', Ah think we put more thoughts intae 'ere instead," Johnny scratches his head dramatically, and then you feel his big, hot palm on you sweaty forehead, as if he's trying to get a feel of the thoughts inside your skull. It doesn't linger there for long, though, rough fidgety fingers digging into your hair and tugging at the roots. This makes the hot-and-cold collar around your nape unclench, uncouth and chaotic massage confidently pulling every ounce of anger out of your brain. From time to time his calloused palm slips lower, squeezing your scruff, wiping the cool sweat away and taking control over what seems to have escaped your own.

"How does it feel to be the first person to get knocked up mentally, love? Having any cravings yet? Feeling your brainworms kick yet?" Dry cotton comforter suddenly covers your exposed to be looked at with disdain body, and before you can choke out a protest and something about you being sweaty and sticky and disgusting, Kyle grips your shoulders firmly, rubbing up and down as he slowly helps you sit up a bit.

"Ye eejit, how dae ye think thay can kick? They're brainworms, thay dinnae hae any legs!" The sheer passion in Johnny's heated counterarguement does the impossible - makes the corners of your deeply upset mouth twitch against all the weight the sadness put on them. Your knights in shining (from all the sweat your lovemaking covered them with) armor of their own warm skin seem to not notice the slightest twitch of your lips - there's no excessive attention drawn to you, none of them puts you on the spot. Their touch isn't going anywhere, but it almost seems mindless, simply their need to have something soft and pleasant to squeeze in their restless hands. "'N' wasnae Mary th' first lassie tae get up th' duff through th' heid?"

"That wasn't mentally, that was spiritually, read your books, Soap," scoffs Kyle, as if it was the most obvious thing, and ducks just in time to avoid a pillow thrown at him with sniper's precision.

"Oi, ye sayin' Ah cannae read now?!" Whatever snarky retort Kyle was ready to shoot, gets wiped out as Johnny tackles him, barely avoiding pushing all three of you off the bed. Their scuffle consists of chokeholds and sneaky kisses, legs getting caught in the sheets and somehow tangling you into the mess too.

Until you laugh, finding yourself squished into Johnny's hairy chest with Kyle in a gently headlock somewhere under your arm.

"Hey, hey, careful, mate, our lovie's expecting, we can't just throw 'em around!" However obvious that deflection is, Johnny reacts as if you were actually with child and grabs your face, boring his eyes into yours, slowly widening his two blue lochs in pretend horror.

"Och naw! Ah think we lost 'em, Ah cannae see nothin' there now!" Flushed after the playfight, you avert your gaze, still a trace of self-consciousness about yout outburst somewhere deep inside, but none of the "brainworms" that clogged your insides in sight indeed. Johnny's little drama earns him a soft nip on his thumb from you, and he smiles at you, clearly satisfied with the effect their little scheme had.

"Aw, damn, and here I was, ready to hear the pitter-patter of 'em little feet," Kyle's warm lips somehow find their way to kiss your temple, eliciting another shy giggle.

A pillow crashes onto both of you with the force of a small bombshell.

"THAY DINNAE HAE FEET, GARRICK, THAY'RE WORMS!"

Price and Gaz fall into their usual ways seamlessly, responsibilities and tasks split between the two seemingly without even any verbal communication. Clearing out the space around you with the same quick efficiency they clear out enemies with, they prop you up on some pillows, assess your condition in case they got carried away and hurt you, and finally settle on both sides of you, warm hands on your knees squeezing softly.

"Are ya gonna talk to us now, lovie? Or will we have to use interrogation tactics to learn what made our love so upset?" John's voice bears no trace of threat, but it still makes you cower and try to take up even less space that your curled up body already has, which earns you a sigh from the Captain. "I see. Take over from here, Sergeant. I expect results once I return."

The matress sighs with relief a Price's weight leaves it, bare feet padding a few steps before he reaches his slippers and leaves the room. The pit that the sound of your bedroom's door closing opens in your chest is crushing your ribcage with the iron fist of vacum. You can't blame John for not willing to deal with your bullshit, but the hearbreak only reenforces the choking smog in your head that's rasping in a hundred different voices that the only thing you deserve is pure repulsion.

Kyle's soft thumb pads wipe the tears teetering on the arrows of your lashes, and in a smooth movement you find your face cupped and pulled close to his shoulder. His smooth skin sticks to your wet cheek and you find yourself crying like a little kid, the unbearable pain of the revolting dark knots inside somehow replaced with surprisingly more bearable grief over what you consider an ending reltionship. Perhaps John leaving our bed finally shattered your heart, letting the ungodly pressure out and allowing it to beat - and bleed - again.

"We'd really like if ya talked to us, angel. Don't think Captain can stand there bare-ass naked much longer, might catch rheumatism at this point, he's not getting younger, you know..."

"I hope you know I can hear you perfecrly clear, Garrick." You stop mid-sniffle, eyes snapping to the closed door. You can finally see the shadow of a man standing just outside, and the air slowly feels with some flavour you can't distinguish through all the snot yet, but seem to like a lot...

"Good, so your hearing's still intact, sir. You're in good shape," Kyle's cheeky remark must've broken John's famous patience and restraint, because the bedroom door finally opens, and you see him there. With a tray with a whole bunch of tea mugs and little plates of treats balanced in his hands.

"Still not talking? Well, we'll try another method then, lovie. Sandwich for your thoughts, eh?"

His cheeks are round with a kind smile, confusing your tortured mind even further - Kyle uses your stupor to fetch John's big, slightly scratchy bathrobe, successfully wrapping you into a cocoon of grounding stimulation all over your feverish skin. With a huff and a grumble about staying butt-naked a bit longer, John puts a pleasantly warm mug into your hands and looks at you, arms crossed and tucked into his armpits now that he got rid of the tray.

Expecting an answer.

"'M sorry..." seems appropriate right up to the moment when a little finger-sandwich gets shoved into your mouth. The bread is soft, nice, salty ham and crunchy cucumber filling your senses and cracking a bit fat line of light right in the middle of the dense cloud in your thoughts.

"Try again, love," Kyle gives a hint and wipes a crumb off your lips, licking it off his thumb. "We don't need an apology, we just want to know what's troubling ya. John, tell 'em."

"Already did," grumbles Price in response and clears his throat, sitting back down on the creaking bed. "Food's working though. Eat up, darling, get your energy. Then we'll talk properly, a'right?"

You chew slowly, still stiff in your own body, but regaining control gradually. Yes. Then you'll talk.

Ghost and Price exchange a single glance over your from, choking on the self-destructive rage, and John shakes his head so slightly that one can barely notice, but it's clear enough to stop Simon from tumbling down the traumatic spiral staircase of his own. Grounded by his Captain's presence, he shrugs his broad shoulders, shaking off the creeping up feeling of his own monsterous nature, and rolls onto his back, pulling you out of the miserable wet ball of wrinkled sheets and onto his firm lap, sideways, his big palms resting comfortably around your hips; he's not squeezing or digging his fingers into the fat like he usually does, but it's a secure hug you can't really escape.

Exposed held too far away from his chest you could hide on, you shrink, rising your shoulders protectively and trying to cover up your soft belly, spilling over your pelvis in a shapless manner - that's when John's arms come from behind, catching yours and instead of pulling away forcefully, simply repeating your own safety cocoon, hiding your body from your distorted sight and keeping you warm.

"You're not thinking straight right now, darling," every phrase he murmurs gently, calmly, convincingly into your ear is accompanied by a little kiss, beard tickling and burning your already irritated by tears skin. "So good for us, so kind. Can you spare some of that kindness for yourself?"

Even though it doesn't sound like a rhethorical question, Simon cups your cheek and shushes you tenderly, pressing his thumb to your lips, allowing John to continue with his little speech aimed to dispel the storm coagulated in your chest.

"'Cos if not, it's a'right, love. We know it's hard, and ya're doing good already. Ya 'ave us, eh? To love ya, to cherish ya. No need to overthink, jus' let us hold you, a'right?"

He finally pushes you onto Simon's chest, his big heart stuttering with worry as you seek shelter among his many scars that paint a horrifying picture once you put all the fragments together.

"How'd you do that, sir?" Simon's voice sounds vulnerable - so much that it strikes through all the layers of your egocentric self-hatred and shifts you almost immeditely into a completely different mindset; one where you throw your whole self into loving your scarred and battle-worn men in such abundance that it's ought to compensate for all the unfairness they've gone through.

There's no need for it now, you realize a little too late: Price is there, keeping Simon away from the darkness. They're fine. Better than ever. It's a distraction, a trick, a play to make your bleeding heart stop the internal self-destruction and turn to healing.

A sly little switch you're not sure they were planning to flip, but it worked.

"Hm?" As if emerging from the depths of his thoughts in response to Simon's question, John caresses your cheek as gently as his rough thumb can and then smiles, maybe catching onto the change in your mood or simply remembering all the times he pulled Ghost out of the same gloom and darkness. "Jus' taking care of me own, Simon. Tha's what a Captain does, no? Now, love, how about a shower? I reckon we can squeeze in all together and papmer you really good, what do ya say, eh?"

Ghost and Gaz manage to keep their cool. Kyle's confident and gentle presence serves to reassure any doubts Simon has about hurting you, he shoots a single glance at his sergeant and recieves support immediately. Two pair of hands cradle you with all the tenderness two soldiers are capable of, which is always enough to drown you in fully. It's a tight hug, a hot mess of limbs, too much skin on skin contact that makes your brain flare with undirected rage, but as seconds trickle by and you're still trapped between two firm bodies, you have no choice but to slip into the exhaustion phase of your outburst.

It's not pleasant, nor could you say you feel calm; if anything, you just petrify, a permanent frown on your face and blindly staring forward glass eyes. You're tired, you'd still rather be anywhere but inside your own body that still feels like a useless deformed bag that should be gutted and emptied to lighten up, inner layer of your skin scrubbed with a knife to peel off the suffocating thickness of fat trapping this heated rage inside...

Instead, you get a kiss.

It's Kyle, soft, full lips touching your wet with tears cheekbone, then again - your temple, your cheek, the overheated spot behind your ear. They're light, soft kisses, too gentle to be playful or arousing. Calming. They do not demand anything in return - he allows you to stay in your inner world where you feel secure, even pauses to kiss Simon the same way right in front of your eyes. A silent demonstrationg of the love and reverence these pecks carry, Simon's hooded eyes fluttering shut as if his own compartmentalized demons get exorcised by Garrick's touch.

"Wanna talk about it, angel?" Kyle's voice rumbles at a nice, grounding, smooth timbre, and your still-too-slow mind struggles to grasp how is it possible that he's talking and you're still getting kisses - until you recognize the uneven texture of Simon's scarred lips, trailing along your skin tenderly. "Whenever you're ready, love. But we would love to know what's going through your head right now."

It feels strange to say it out lound when you're held and caressed like this, but their kisses and solid embrace cleared your windpipe enough of the mental gunk for you to be able to speak.

"I hate myself... 'M disgusting, and-" A displeased grumbling kiss from Simon interrupts you, and even Kyle pushes his huge shoulder to reprimand his own Lieutenant for the interference. Kisses his temple immediately to make amends, though, and turns back to you, prompting you to continue.

"Wot? Don't like when someone talks shit 'bout mine," grumbles Simon like a dog that got flicked on the nose for growling at welcome guests.

"Let 'em talk, mate, it's good to get things off your chest." At least their little bickering coaxes a tiniest hint of smile out of you, and Simon, noticing it immediately, stares back at Kyle with such pride, as if he just did something great.

The thing is, in the way his arms squeeze you a tad bit tighter, pressing into his firm body, you can read that for him - your smile is the greatest achievement.

"Don't tell me you prefer his silent treatement, angel, I'm trying to be the attentive boyfriend here, and for what?" Your smile grows a little braver. A little brighter. You would've kept talking if you could remember what it was that hurt so fucking much in your chest.

"Shower. Then a cuppa. Then we have the talk." No one dares to argue with the Ghost and his gruff commands. You feel the sheet sticking to your skin as he lifts you up, Kyle already sneaking off to prepare towels and clean clothes for you three. He'll stay with you and help you wash the remaints of the mind attack off. Simon will make fresh tea.

You're going to be alright.

Price and Soap take quite an intense approach the second they notice your distress. You feel Johnny's weight disappear from you after the first strangled sob that escapes you, and if you could open your eyes glued shut by the hot, messy tears, you would see John practically dragging the poor Sergeant away by his scruff. It's easy to suspect that Johnny couldn't contain himself and went too hard, too rough on you - with no malice, but pure passion that's spilling from his big, hot heart every time he gets to be close to you.

But it's not Johnny's fault, neither is it John's. It's all you, a useless, pathetic thing, good for nothing and holding two gorgeous men to yourself like a greedy glutton hoarding delicious food.

"Ah'm sorry, bonnie- ow, Ah got it, Ah got it, Ah'm not touchin'!"

"Did we hurt ya, love? Was Johnny boy too rough wit' ya? Wha's wrong?"

You feel big warm hands gliding over your skin, quick assessment of your state in search of potential harm caused. This immediate care only makes you feel worse, every cold sweaty patch of your disgusting hide shivering and twitching under Captain's careful touch. You struggle against your own spiraling anger, fight it with what's left of your exhausted resilience - and lose, curling up with another burst of tears, shoving the loving hands away and dusting the lingering warmth off your body.

After all, you do not deserve to be treated with such kindness after the fit you just threw.

"No, no, no, it's not his fault, it's not Johnny's... it's me, it's my fault, it's all my fault, I ruin everything, I'm- I'm disgusting!"

The silence that follows you blowing up on them is heavy. Just as bad as the knot in your chest.

"Johnny."

When you open your eyes to find a way out, run away, scatter and hide in the furthest corner of the apartment until everyone who tried caring for you leaves again, you're met with Johnny's bright blue eyes, glistening with unshed tears.

It's a shocking sight, pushing you out of the muffled misery into an alerted worry - his face is red with unexplainable pained anger, fists clenched as John holds him tightly by hunched shouders, seemingly trying to prevent a violent outburst.

"Ah wanntae ken names of th' bastarts who made ye feelin' tis wa'. Ah swear Ah will mak' thaim fuckin' choke oan thair ain tongues, Ah'll rip thair spines oot 'n' shove thaim up thair-" - "Enough, Johnny. Stand down. This won't solve anythin'. Ya calm down and help our lovie feel better, a'right?"

Still a bit shells-hocked, you stir on the bedsheets and push yourself up to sit upright, stretching your arms hesitantly to the men in a weak attempt to remedy whatever shitstorm you caused in their minds.

"Don't get mad, please," you whisper sheepishly, and the shy sound of your still choked voice seems to wash Johnny's explosive anger away better than the firm grip of his handler's (Price's) hands. With a look of a beaten dog, Johnny huffs loudly, cuddlng up to you and hiding his face in your lap. His heavy jaw sinks in the plush of your thighs, accomodated nicely with the softness of your body.

"'M nae mad at ye, leannan. Jus' dinnae say tha' again, a'right, bonnie? If ye need me tae prove ye-"

"No..." your hand finds it place in his damp mohawk and brushes through, while you glance at John. His eyes are shimmering with love and love only as he looks at you and Johnny, and you feel a wave of shyness - the good, giddy, warm kind - replacing the paralyzing shame. "I'm fine already. With you."

"Maybe we should 'ave a little chat 'bout it, love," John's hand meets yours on the sad mutt's head in your lap, intertwinig fingers with you through Johnny's soft hair. "When ya feel better. Jus' so we know what we're dealing with, eh?"

"Yeah. A bit later. Thank you."

All four of your men get frozen witnessing your reaction, struck with a horrifying sense of helplessness - it feels like the biggest failure among many unsuccessful missions, operations where lives were lost and enemies missed, to have you curling up and crying in misery between all the love they've been pouring onto you just mere seconds ago. As if everything they touch is bound to go up in flames, drown in blood and rot, be it on the outside or from the inside.

They're lost, and as always, they turn to the Captain, giving themselves up for him to direct, trusting that he knows better what use they can be of.

And, frankly, he does.

They're barely talking, but the commotion around you is decipherable even through the red mind fog and closed eyes - it honestly only makes you feel worse, unsafe, exposed, despite that simply being Soap, sent off to fill a bath ("Ye want it hot or a tad bit cool, bonnie?" - Silence. Your nails dig into your scalp, the soud of someone simply breathing, even more so talking to you, sending you into a new fit of rage. "Make it warm, Johnny, we'll adjust later."), and Simon, leaving for tea duty - silently, your favourite way to have it attentively observed in the first two weeks you've been together and memorized ever since.

It's Kyle whose voice, murmuring into your ear sweet, reassuring nothings as he keeps you caged in a tight embrace, your back pressed against his warm chest, forces you out of the highly irritable state. You have no choice between his short, chaste kisses on the crown of your overloaded head, and John's calloused hands massaging your calves, soft flesh dipping under the firm pressure.

"Ya jus' focus on fighting tha' storm off, a'right, darling? We'll take care of th' rest. It happens, we know it does, 's not your fault. Jus' a funny lil' thing your mind does, eh? Yeah, love, we know wha' it's like when your mind does funny things. Don't we, Kyle?"

"That we do." Maybe it's just your own depressive state rubbing off on them or distorting your perception, but Kyle's voice sounds almost solemn. You would turn to look into the smoky quartz of his eyes, but either he holds you too tight, or you have barely any strength left in your upset body - you simply can't.

Maybe it's alright. Maybe tonight they don't need you ripping your heart out to tend to their restless minds, and you can just allow them to take care of you.

Allow Kyle to carry you to the bathroom.

Allow John to stay there and help you wash yourself with a nice, scrubby loofah.

Allow Johnny to bring in his huge, baggy loungewear that doesn't hug your curves too snugly and allows you to simply forget what you were so angry about for a while.

Allow Simon to serve you perfect temperature tea in your favourite mug and keep you quiet company on the balcony, night air cooling your wet and clean now skin and hair further and blowing all thoughts out of your troubled head away.

As you share a cigarette with rich clove aftertaste, breathing ironically becomes easier. Behind your back the bedsheets are being changed, proper meal is being cooked, a good movie you won't be upset falling asleep to is being chosen.

"Simon." - "Hm." - "You sure you're okay with me being like that?" - "Standin' in the wind with your hair wet, tryin' to catch a cold?"

You grunt, not appreciating him taking the piss while you're tryig to be vulnerable, but allow him to pull the hood of Johnny's hoodie onto your head.

"No. I mean, fucked up in the head?"

You don't actually know what answer you expect. With an unreadable expression, Simon turns his head, looking through the glass door at the men crowded in the living room and waiting for you, and then stares back at you with a smirk, a permanent scowl carved into it by someone's cruel hand.

"Nah. Tha's how I like 'em."

He throws the cigarette butt away and chuckles, cupping the back of your head and pulling you inside, into the warmth of home.

"Oi, bonnie! C'mere, As saved ye a spot." There is no spot as you look at the two-story cuddle pile on the sofa and the blanket nest in front of it, unless of course... ah, yes, Johnny's patting his lap. "Ah promise Ah'll behave. Mostly."

And as his warmth envelops you through a big hug, his hands clenched humbly on your belly and behaving indeed, you feel stupidly happy.

Because you're enjoying touch again.

[anonity]

wrote something quick and sweet for you guys because i have a whopping 40 pages of angst sitting in my drafts rn.. do we want the pazzi fic first or the paige x reader fic? 

anyways enjoy

summary: azzi drags paige out of bed at 6 in the morning, just to go to the gym. (also, they’re dating and paige is in love) WC: 1000ish

beep, beep, bee–

paige buries her head into her pillow as silence befalls the room – for three seconds. then, it gets ripped out from underneath her. 

“morning, paige!” azzi’s voice rings, annoyingly chipper for – paige cracks an eye open, finally looking at her alarm – 6 in the morning.

hesitantly, hoping if she moved slowly enough azzi would not notice she was awake, she looked towards where the voice had come from. instead, she comes face to face with neon pink. azzi steps back, and paige finally gets to take in everything in front of her – gray sweats, a bright hoodie, and a black gym bag slung over her shoulder.

the sight makes paige want to die. 

“az,” she groans, yanking their blanket up over her head, “it’s six in the morning.”

azzi promptly pulls the entire comforter away. “six-thirty,” she corrects helpfully, balling up the blanket and leaving it on the opposite end of the bed. paige groans again, reaching blindly for it. it’s decidedly too far, so she settles instead on falling limply against the mattress.

azzi’s nose scrunches in response. “you promised you’d come to the gym with me.”

paige mumbles something that sounds like another complaint, but her voice is muffled in the mattress. azzi shoves her shoulder, forcing her face up. “c’mon, don’t make me pull you out.”

paige just barely cracks a smile. “you never have to pull out, ma.”

“paige!” azzi yelps in response, slapping her chest half-heartedly. “that doesn’t even make sense! get up!”

feeling particularly unamused again, paige's voice comes out groggy. “you know not to make plans with me before nine in the morning.”

azzi’s eyes narrow. “then you shouldn’t have said you’d go with me.”

paige doesn’t answer, throwing an arm over her eyes instead. azzi lets out an overly-emphasized sigh, leaning down so her face is level with paige’s.”you’re lucky i think you’re cute.”

paige peeks out from under her arm. she’s met with that soft, sickeningly fond look azzi reserves only for her, and can’t help the smile it warrants. “you think i’m cute?”

“i think you’re lazy,” azzi shoots back, standing straight again. “but, because i know you soo well, i brought you coffee.”

paige perks up immediately, reaching for the cup expectantly. “you’re the best, az.”

azzi immediately pulls back, holding it just out of reach. “nuh-uh,” she chides, a glint in her eye that can only mean trouble for paige. “not until you’re ready to go.”

paige scowls. “you’re joking.”

“it’s strategic.”

the second the word leaves azzi’s mouth, it’s a mistake – she knows it because paige immediately shoots up from the bed, wrapping her arms around her. 

“paige!” she tries to sound annoyed, but the giggle that follows is indisputable. “get off of me!”

paige immediately fumbles for the coffee cup, a disposable one from downstairs, and briefly wonders when azzi had time to even go get it. “taunting opponents is not a strategy, it’s a flagrant foul,” she corrects, still fighting for the drink. azzi pokes her side in that spot that always has paige jerking away and frees herself, holding the still-intact coffee up triumphantly. 

“all is fair in love and basketball,” she grins. 

paige scowls. “don’t use my favorite movie against me.”

“it’s my favorite movie.”

“i had it first.”

“you did not!”

“did too, i’m older than you.”

baffled, azzi jerks back. “what does that have to do with anything?”

paige straightens, looking particularly smug. “it means i had time to watch it before you did.”

“paige!” azzi groans, shoving her towards the dresser. “get dressed!”

paige grumbles but acquiesces, yanking on a pair of sweatpants and a thin t-shirt. there’s cold biting through the windows of their apartment, and azzi briefly comments on paiges lack of a jacket, but paige shrugs her off lazily. “ion’ need no jacket, i’m a big dawg.”

azzi doesn’t try to correct her again, (even though the phrase big dawg has her rolling her eyes) and instead leans against the doorframe of their room. paige all but throws herself back onto the bed, tying her shoes with drama only rivaled by toddlers.

azzi tracks each tug of laces with barely concealed amusement, taking a purposefully loud sip of paige’s coffee.

giving one last tug, paige stands from the bed and saunters over to where azzi is leaned. raising her eyebrows and staring expectantly at the coffee again, azzi finally hands it over. “now, all that drama was for nothing,” she says pointedly. paige hums as if she disagrees, but doesn’t add to her argument as she follows azzi out the door.

they don’t speak again until their feet land on the sidewalk outside. the air in storrs is sharp, frost clinging to the ground like broken cobwebs, and paige can’t help the shiver that wracks her body.

really and truly, she should have grabbed a hoodie like azzi had suggested. she can already hear the i told you so forming in azzi’s mouth, though, so paige stays quiet. instead, she scrunches her nose against the breeze and turns finally to look over azzi’s features.

the sun is just barely rising – the barren trees lining the sidewalk are casting long, soft shadows across her face. azzi walks a step ahead, hands tucked into her hoodie pockets and posture straight. the light flickers over her features – the way her lashes fan against her eyebrows, the pink dusting the easy slope of her nose, the way her lips are tugged into that ever-present smile.

paige can’t help the way her gaze lingers. azzi’s exhale rises in a delicate plume, curling lazily into the quiet air. 

paige thinks she’s pretty – and, actually, that she’s quite lucky to have someone like azzi dragging her out at 6 in the morning.

ever the instigator, though, paige chooses not to voice the softness of her thoughts. instead, she tears her gaze away and rolls her eyes. “you’re lucky i love you.”

azzi glances over, dimples falling over her face as she grins again. her voice is soft, tinged with a quiet warmth meant only for paige to hear. “i know.”

[memoirofasparklemuff1n]

champagne problems- r.c. x reader

summary: a year after you said no to rafe when he asked you to marry him, you receive an invitation for his and sofia’s wedding.

a/n: ok so i’m listening to champagne problems and i wanna do a sad fic now hehehe. i’ve never done this before lmaooo but i’ve written for myself like stories but with characters i made up. also, my first language isn’t english so maybe there are things that aren’t written correctly. anyway, i’m bored sooo here we go :) i hope you like it. <3

warnings: angst (?), reader is depressed and has a low self-esteem. oh and swearing

disclaimer: i wrote the reader’s experiences with depression from my own, i don’t expect anybody else to relate 100%. also if it’s a bit triggering i understand, and take care of yourself first always. oh, and it’s based loosely on s3 and s4, because honestly i’m still on s3 so all i know is from the internet or from my friends who also watch it. i also made up sofia’s last name because i couldn’t find it. ok, i think that’s it. <3

this can be read as a stand-alone, but if you want to see more i made a part two!

i stared at the envelope with my name engraved at the center that, given the fancy lettering and expensive paper, i knew exactly what and from whom it was.

the letters were light blue with silver accents tattooed onto the fine paper. it was everything i wasn’t, colors that represented calm and coolness. how could something so simple make my heart pound as if i were being chased through the woods by a serial killer?

“come on, don’t be a coward,” i muttered to myself. i took a deep breath and picked the envelope in my hands, running my fingertips over my name. i flipped it over and gently opened it. i took another deep breath and ripped off the band-aid. there it was.

pleasure of my company. of course.

it’s your fault your name isn’t on this invitation.

a summer wedding, the one season i despised mainly because of the constant heat and humidity. i sighed. sofia was amazing, i couldn’t deny that. i’d talked to her a few times when she was serving my friends and i, and grew to like her. of course, it was before everything. to be fair i could see why rafe liked- no, loved her. she was gorgeous, sweet, and kind, not a mess like me. i’m sure that when he asked her the question she didn’t hesitate and said yes.

i found another paper that requested me to confirm my attendance on or before february 6. i had a little more than a month to decide.

“y/n!” i heard my older brother, jonathan, come running downstairs.

“what?” i stared at him confused. he was pale and sweaty, with a feverish energy. he then glanced at the invitation opened on the kitchen island.

“oh.” fucking understatement.

“it’s okay, j.” i smiled softly at him and took his hand. “i’m ok.”

he frowned, unsure. instead he pulled me to him and hugged me tightly. i closed my eyes and we stayed like that for a while and when i pulled back i realized i was crying. fuck. his jaw clenched and he took my face in his hands and stared into my eyes unwaveringly. “no, you are not. i know you and i know that despite everything you still love him.” he didn’t say his name. we never did. after that november evening, my family noticed how i flinched everytime his name was mentioned. hell, even thinking about sarah, who was like the sister i never had, hurt me. i’d lost everything that day, and i don’t regret it or maybe i’m just in denial. and now it’s too late. he’ll be married and i’ll be right where he left me. where you left him. shut up.

“jonathan, i’m ok. i promise.”

he didn’t look convinced but nodded and let me go to open to the fridge. i could feel the question weighing on us, making it harder to breathe. will you go? i don’t know the answer to that.

so before he could ask, i took the letter and went upstairs. i locked my bedroom door, threw it on my desk, and laid on my bed, staring at the ceiling. the worst part of all of this was that i had no one to blame but myself. i closed my eyes tightly, as if that were able to keep the tears from flowing.

i felt myself slipping into a deep sleep and before i knew it, there i was. the air smelled of cinnamon and coffee, with the leaves crunching underneath our boots. i look down at my hand and saw the ringed fingers intertwined with mine. i lifted his hand, pulling him to me to hug him. he smiled at me and hugged me tightly before spinning me around so fast, everything went blurry. i laughed and he laughed and i felt so much love that my heart could stop beating, yet i’d somehow have enough time to kiss him one last time. he put me down but i was so dizzy i fell onto the pile of leaves the workers at tannyhill had just gathered.

“rafe!” i shrieked but before i could get up he was on top of me, tickling me. i started to practically scream as i tried to push him off and we ended up rolling around in the garden like a pair of dogs when their favorite toy is at stake.

eventually, we stopped and fell next to each other, taking heavy breaths as we tried to calm down. the sky was a light grey and everything felt perfect. i turned my head to my left to look at him, but he was already looking at me. it was always that way with us, i turned and there he was. maybe i took that for granted. his blue eyes managed to glow despite the lack of sunlight, his nose was slightly freckled and i extended my hand to trace them with my fingers. “your freckles are like constellations,” i say. that is so dumb and poetic of me.

he chuckled and closed his eyes, sighing contentedly. i smiled softly, because somewhere along our relationship i’d started to trace his face every time i could. his brows, his cheekbones, his lips, his jaw, the curve of his neck. everything about him made me want to cry.

“i love you.” the words burst out of me before i could stop them. his eyes snapped open, with a look of shock. shit, he probably doesn’t feel the same way. i opened my mouth to tell him that i didn’t want him to feel pressured or anything, but i never did because his lips crashed into mine, erasing any words on my tongue. i moaned softly when his hands wrapped around my waist and then one of them was in my hair. i lifted my arms around his neck and threaded my hands into his hair, causing him to groan. his lips were always soft, but this time there was something more. they carried unsaid words and feelings that could never be said in any language anyway. he tugged lightly at my lower lip, causing me to open my mouth to let him in. his kisses were my number one addiction and now i felt like i was trying the hardest drug to ever exist. i wished i didn’t have to breathe so we could stay like this forever.

he pulled away first and leaned his forehead against mine, our heavy breaths filling the silence. i closed my eyes, breathing in his scent. god, he smelled like warm evenings and rain, of comfort and peace. words people in the island would never associate with him. he had issues, yes, but mine were far worse. maybe because they didn’t have a reason to be there in the first place, which only made me feel guilty, when his problems were far more serious. maybe that’s why i liked the rain and thunderstorms so much, because they made me feel less alone.

“i love you, too.” my eyes are the ones that snap open this time. “you do?” i felt it in his kiss but a little part of me still doubted. “yeah, kid. i do,” he smiled and hugged me to his chest.

“i always have.” the words are far away and i suddenly hear my name in the distance.

my eyes open, but this time i’m not in tannyhill. i’m in my bed with my mother looking down at me with a sad expression. shit, i must’ve been screaming in my sleep or something again. she never unlocks my door unless it’s serious. i sit up and wipe my eyes and my fingers come back wet. i swear to god, i don’t understand where so much water comes from. if only i could duct tape them so they stopped leaking.

my mom starts stroking my hair out of my face, “honey, i…” she doesn’t finish. probably because she knows that nothing she says could ever make me feel better.

i take the hand that’s still in her lap, “i know, mom. i’ll be ok.” maybe if i say those words enough they will become true. she smiles and nods. “yes, you will. i love you, you know?”

sometimes i didn’t know but i nod and hug her tightly. i squeeze my eyes shut to make myself stop yearning for the one hug i actually want.

after days of being locked in my room, i made myself go for a ride on my bicycle. i know that spending all that time hiding isn’t healthy and i need to be able to do better. healing isn’t linear, but the few steps i take in that direction are always good. i breathed in the few winds of autumn that were left and made my way down to the border of figure 8. i know that sarah was now living on the cut with john b but i still think she might resent me a little. maybe i shouldn’t go. or maybe i should. it would probably hurt too much to talk to her, because despite not being very physically alike, her brother and her were both extremely similar in their mannerisms and the way they could see right through my bullshit. i don’t know if i could pretend in front of her, hell, who am i kidding? of course i can’t. she knows me. plus it wouldn’t take a genius to realize how fucked up i was. i looked like a car had run me over but maybe that would’ve been less painful.

god, what was it about the cameron siblings with their need for marriage? first sarah, then rafe. rafe. fuck, i broke my rule. fuck fuck fuck. i turned around and went down to the beach. hopefully nobody was there. please, god or whatever divine power, don’t let me run into anyone.

i didn’t need the town skeptics to start with the gossip again. the weeks after our breakup everyone was with the whole, “she would’ve made such a lovely bride, what a shame she’s fucked in the head.” champagne problems, they called it as if it were a fucking soap opera. i wonder what they are saying now that rafe—fuck— he announced his engagement. probably thirsting for my appearance, lurking like vultures over my dead body. whether i would go or not. the country club must’ve been buzzing, especially with her working there. the sweet, kind fucking angel. god, i can’t even hate her without feeling bad.

the beach was empty, and i thanked my few lucky stars for that. i sat on the sand and eventually laid down and closed my eyes. i’m pretty sure i dozed off for a while because i would’ve noticed the couple that sat a few meters away from me. the wind carried the girl’s laugh to me and every muscle in my body tensed. fuck fuck fuck. i have to leave now.

maybe if i get up quickly and quietly enough they won’t notice me. but then my eyes meet the light blue gaze that haunts my dreams. i freeze, not knowing what to expect. i notice sofia turns to look as to why rafe went quiet and when she sees me, she lowers her gaze, but i could still see the guilt mixed with pity. great. now she pities me. i’m the pathetic ex girlfriend that couldn’t commit and spent a year in complete misery, barely leaving the house. if you call going for a nine pm bike ride once a week going out.

what the fuck do i do? turn and leave, just like that? say congratulations? i’m so happy for you guys? i’ll be there of course! what a fucking joke. guess whatever higher power is out there wanted to laugh for a bit. probably drinking dom pérignon while they watch this cheap version of a shakespearean tragedy. babe, stop with your tortured poet act, it’s pathetic.

but of course, sofia gets up with a smile full of warmth and walks toward me.

“hey, how are you?” she asks once she’s close enough to touch. i feel another pair of eyes burning onto my face. i force a smile, “i’m ok, just been sick for a while. the doctors told me the beach’s breeze would help.” i remember that little fact from when i got a cold as a kid and my mom took me to the beach so i could get better. this wasn’t some cold though and i don’t know if it’s true but it’s enough to convince sofia.

rafe, however, scoffs. i resist the urge to roll my eyes. sofia doesn’t notice however. she never does. she doesn’t know you like i do. i miss you, i’m sorry.

his hair was now buzzed short. and he looked older, stronger. much different from the younger boy with anger issues and hair that stuck to his forehead. his ring was still there though. a lot can change in a year.

my attention returns to sofia when she speaks, “oh i’m sorry, you know something that helps when i’m sick is tea, mainly ginger tea.” unless i got some magic infused tea then nothing would make me feel better. but still, i nodded and thanked her with a smile i hoped looked genuine. she smiled back a bright smile and instead of brightening my day it only made it darker. i’m sure her smile brightened his days though.

“well, it was nice seeing you. i need to go home,” i waved at no one in particular and turned around before i started to scream or throw up.

“y/n!” my heart sank and stopped. i hadn’t heard him say my name in a year. my breathing increased and i didn’t dare turn around. i wasn’t fooling anyone, but i could at least try to keep what little dignity i had left.

i then lifted my eyes and there he was. all sharp angles and no warmth in his eyes. eyes that had always been cold to everyone else expect me. but now they kept sofia from freezing. i didn’t say anything. the lump in my throat made it impossible. i know he could see the pain in my eyes and the treacherous tear that started streaming down my face. i saw something flicker in his eyes but it quickly disappeared. you probably imagined that. he doesn’t care. he can’t.

“it’s been a while,” he says. i can tell sofia is giving us a little privacy because, of course, she does. can’t she fuck up for once? make a scene so i can leave with a bit of pride?

i nod, “indeed. life has been pretty busy.” my voice comes out a bit cracked but whatever dignity i had evaporated.

“yeah, it has.” his jaw clenches slightly and then scowls. “did you receive our invitation?” our. they are now an our, ours and i was not a part of it.

“yeah, i did. congratulations.” this time i can’t muster a smile so i hope my voice carries a bit of sentiment of joy. funny, haha.

“thank you,” i can tell he means it. “are you coming?”

do you want me to? to gloat, i’m sure. i’d be just as petty. he probably doesn’t care, it would only be one less guest to feed.

why is it that when i need an earthquake to start and split the earth and swallow me whole it doesn’t happen? or even an alien? they exist apparently, so come on???

he raises his brows waiting for an answer. i look down at my hands, hands he once held and kissed despite their scars.

“i don’t know. my mom said she wanted to go on a trip next summer so maybe i can’t.” at least half of it is true.

“hmm, ok.” he doesn’t believe me entirely, but i can tell he doesn’t care if i do. he doesn’t care. she patched up the tapestry that i shred.

i nod, “yeah, i’ll let you guys know.” i turn and wave at sofia goodbye. “well, goodbye, rafe. i’m so glad you’re ok.” his eyes stayed on mine for what felt like forever and i could tell he knew, that despite everything i still wanted him to be ok. he pursed his lips and nodded.

“goodbye, y/n.” and with that he stepped back and then went past me to sofia.

i closed my eyes for a moment to blink away my tears and grabbed my bike and left without looking back.

i remember the last words i said to him after i told him no. he had looked like i’d just stabbed him in the heart, like his heart was glass and i dropped it.

sarah had come in with the glasses for the champagne and when she saw rafe speechless, and no friends applauding she looked at me with wide eyes. as if to say: what have you done?

“im sorry,” i whispered and turned to leave with the image of his mother’s ring in his hand looking up at me with so much love. love that i felt too. i didn’t say no because i didn’t love him, it was because i loved him far too much. i’m not an easy person, i tried to be better but i was so close to exploding with everything i’d bottled up that we’d all end up hurt. and yes, he’d be in pain for a while but he would find the real thing. and he did, with sofia.

he’d run after me and asked me why and i couldn’t give a reason. he started yelling, confused and i just stood there.

i took a step forward and pressed my hand to his cheek one last time.

“hey, you'll find the real thing instead, she'll patch up your tapestry that I shred and hold your hand while dancing. never leave you standing crestfallen on the landing. you’ll have your mom's ring in your pocket, her picture in your wallet and you won't remember all my champagne problems.”

if you made it this far thank you so muchhh. i hope you liked it and that i also made justice to the song lol. i’m not a huge taylor swift fan (please don’t come for me) but i love her poetic songs sm it’s insane. i also made a reference to sabrina and gracie ;) i love them sm.

credits for the dividers: first one is by: @anitalenia and the final two by: @dollywons

these are so cute, thanks for letting us use them <3

[hw4-l1z]

Ateez car/risky sex headcanons?

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Honestly forgot that I wrote fics and had requests waiting 💀

Sub!ateez x Dom!m!reader

Cw: car sex// public sex// sex whilst another member is next to them // hair pulling// blowjobs//cock warming// unprotected sex// cumming inside// spit as lube

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Hongjoong

You're horny ass decided to fuck him in the studio

You had been clingy all day and had followed him all the way to the studio

He didn't complain though since he enjoyed having your company at all times

Although his leader mode had turned you on alot

But obviously you couldn't fuck him with people in the room...right?

Wellllllllll

Once everyone had gone on a lunch break you had practically pounced on him. You wasted no time to prep him for your cock.

Although the prep too some time so by the time he was in your lap, back against your front with your cock inside him, some people had come back from their lunch break.

He felt so tense knowing the situation you were both in but also thanked God that he had already done his lines for the song.

But he was terrified incase someone found out or if for whatever reason he had to get up for something.

As time past on you kept subtly grinding into him, he had to bite his lip to suppress a moan.

You never got to fuck him, instead he just cockwarmed you for the time being until eventually everyone had left.

You couldn't help but absolutely enjoy the feeling of being inside him with other unsuspecting people around you though.

Seonghwa

You had just finished eating at a fancy restaurant seonghwa took you to

He wanted to spoil you, as per usual, so he had taken you to an expensive restaurant

You felt very out of place even though you were dressed for the occasion, you had some tattoos which alot of the other customers kept looking at you with a judge look.

But you couldn't care less about them

Your boyfriend looked absolutely breathtaking in his outfit

You both had the same outfit except his button up was white whereas yours was black.

He loves spoiling you cause he knows once you get home and into bed you'd fuck him like your life depends on it as a thank you.

But this time he looked far to appetising in that outfit that you couldn't even make it home

The minute you were both out and had gotten to the car you had pushed him into the back, pulling the lever to fold the seats back to give you both more room before your ripping his shirt off and kissing him all over.

Making quick movements to undress him so you could ravish him in your car.

God he'd look so pretty

His shirt ripped open, his hair a sprawled out mess his legs over your shoulders as you pound your cock into him

It's very obvious from the outside of the car to know what's going on within it but you couldn't care less

He's moaning so loudly for you, his hands gripping and clawing into your bare thigh as you take him apart

His face and body look so pretty in the dim lighting

You'd fuck him in the car everytime if you could.

Yunho

You fucked him in the woods.

You don't really know how it happened to be honest

You both decided to take a nice peaceful walk in the woods

Nobody was around since it was getting late and the idea that you've never had sex in the woods before popped into your head

You mentioned this to yunho to which he was a little surprised at since it came from no where but he's usually used to you saying these sorts of things randomly anyways

Then next thing you know he's bent over, holding onto a tree as your fucking him from behind.

He enjoyed the idea of it but was a little scared of being caught

So you kept a close eye out for anyone but since you were off the trail and it was fairly dark it was most likely alright.

And my god did he enjoy it

It felt so different

He felt so exposed yet so excited

Your grip on his hair, pulling his head back as he quietly whimpered

He came way before you just from how exciting it was for him

So you pulled out, took off the condom (cause yes you always carry one with you duh) and got him to suck you off.

You never felt so dirty before but you loved it

It was gross but hot

Eventually you came into his mouth as he sucked you dry.

Yeosang

Public toilet (clean one though)

You decided to go out for a little shopping date

Super innocent right?

Yeah well yeosang decided to wear a tight long sleeved crop top

And my god did that make you horny

You just couldn't stop staring at his body when he was in his own space trying to find what he wanted

He saw it as innocent

But you were two seconds away from pouncing on him in the middle of the shop floor and railing him in front of everyone

But of course you didn't want everyone to see your boyfriend naked

So you just softly and calmly took him by the hand, guided him out the shop and into the bathrooms with a very nonchalant smile on your face

You slowly turn to him and take the shopping bags from his hand, setting them onto the hook on the bathroom door before yanking him in with you

He let's out a yelp before you cover his mouth, silencing him

"I know you like expressing yourself for who you are and I support you in every way but this shirt is making me lose my mind and I can't control myself" you say

He just stares at you, a little shocked from how sudden this was

"I'm going to fuck you now okay? Are you okay with that?" You whisper

He nods his head yes and before he knows it he's pressed against the wall as you hold his body up off the floor.

His arms and legs wrapped tightly around you as you rut your cock into him

Your nose buried into his neck as you inhale his perfume which drives you even more insane

You hold him tightly as you pound your cock up into him. His teeth buried into your shoulder as he keeps back all his noises

As much as you'd love to hear him moan for you, you don't wanna get caught

He feels dizzy by how strong you are for holding him up for this long.

He bites you harder everytime someone walks into the bathroom

You both are terrified of getting caught yet too horny to stop now

San

You fucked him (sorta) in the car with the members with you

Yous were as careful and discreet as you guys could be

There wasn't enough room in the car so san had resorted to sitting in your lap the whole ride

But all the bumps I'm the road caused san to move around on your cock too much which then caused to become hard

And one of the rest stops you both took that as a chance to pull down your pants a little as he helps you guide your cock into him

It was a little sore and tight to begin with since the only form of lubricant you had was your spit which wasn't enough

You had a few more minutes to spare so he held onto the seat in front of him as he bounced on your cock.

You warned him when someone was on their way back to the car and got him to sit back down into your lap as you pulled a blanket over the both of you.

You knew this meant you wouldn't be able to take your cock out until the next stop but who knows it could be worth it

Both of your guts tingled the entire time

It was so exciting

The bumps on the road still were driving you insane but this time sannie felt them too

Everytime after the bump hit and his body came down onto yours, he could feel you pushing deeper for a split second

He'd have to bite his lip and suppress his whimper

He'd also be a little tease and grind himself down onto you just so he could feel how deep you go and how good your cock feels pressing all those good spots.

He'd also clench himself around you just to tease you, you'd throw your head back and hold back a groan.

Mingi

You fucked him a shared hotel room with yunho

They were currently on a world tour

The hotel rooms were split into two per room so they wouldn't have to pay for 8 different rooms

But since you had come along, you shared a double bed with mingi whilst yunho had his own double bed

You'd been with them for every stop but since every hotel they stayed at was split into twos you couldn't have your own private time with mingi.

So you took it upon yourself to try be sneaky and quite since you were far too pent up to hold it in any longer

How could you hold back when he's looking so hot on the stage.

You were spooning him

Your cock buried deep inside as you gently grind your hips into him.

You made it even worse for him since he's laying on his side facing yunho

Yunho is fast asleep but you still want to be quite incase you wake him somehow.

You lift your leg up and start fucking into him faster

Mingi tries so hard not to moan

He gets a mini heart attack anytime yunho stirs in his sleep

He's scared that yunho wakes up and is basically face to face with mingi who's boyfriend is behind him, balls deep in his ass.

His face contours in pleasure as you rut against his sweet spot

He's never felt so scared yet horny in his life.

Wooyoung

You wanted to take him on a little road trip

But his horny ass sees you both being alone in the middle of nowhere as an opportunity

You can't say you were mad about it but you wanted to have a little fun and relaxing moment with him

He was non stop touching you

Caressing your thigh and teasing near your crotch

Of course you ended up hard and had to pull over on the side of the road in the middle of buttfuck nowhere.

You pushed the drivers seat back at bit and told him to sit on your lap

You leaned the back of the chair back for more comfort and space as you wasted no time to get both of your lower half's naked

He was so happy that you actually went with it and let him bounce on your cock in the car

He could be as loud as he wants aswell since nobody will hear him

Letting out the most sinful moans as he fucks himself onto your cock

You buck your hips up into him, meeting him halfway as you reach deep inside him.

Your grip on his hips is deliciously painful

You've never heard him this vocal before

Usually he is loud but considering nobody will hear except from you, he's twice as loud if that's even possible

Jongho

What was supposed to be a cute little date at a cafe

Turned into you having him bent over the sink in the bathroom whilst you absolutely obliterate his ass

You don't even know what happened

He just looked so cute and fuckable that you got really turned on by it

And somehow you convinced him to come with you to the bathroom once you finished your drinks

There was only two bathrooms but luckily it was the ones we're you have a little sink and mirror in your own stall

So you pulled him in and locked the door

You had him pressed against the mirror and bent over the little sink

Your hand in his hair as you fucked him hard from behind

He held back on his moans but let out the cutest little whines and whimpers

You felt so aggressively horny over him

You were fucking him so roughly that the skin slapping against skin could most likely be heard from the outside but you couldn't care less in that moment

You just wanted to pump him full of cum and watch as he walked out the bathroom all red and dishevelled

You had no shame. You couldn't care less if people knew or heard what was happening

Jongho on the other hand was very embarrassed when he did the walk of shame out the bathroom

The people who sat closest to the bathrooms were giving weird glances at you both

You just smugly walked out next to him with your arm around his shoulder whilst he couldn't look anywhere but the floor as he walked out with weak, shaky legs

His hair messy from where you were gripping it. Didn't even bother to help him fix it since you thought he looked too cute a little fucked out mess

Safe to say neither of you will be going back to that cafe ever again

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

[pagelets]

Hold me down- P.J

There's no synopsis cause I wrote this in 2 hours and didn't have creativity for anything else after finishing it. Enjoy!

As usual, it was inspired by hold me down by Daniel Caesar (and a dream of mine hehe).

Disclaimer: contains smut!!

Jay was her best friend for the past 3 years. He didn’t expect that friendship to last that much, he also didn’t expect he would be able to keep his feelings for her for that long. But there he was, sitting next to her almost dead body at the backseat of an uber, heading to her place, after 2 fucking hours of watching her dance and flirt with other guys. And girls. Apparently everyone was attractive in her perspective, except for him. And having her head on his shoulder, with her smell getting impregnated on his clothes, just made everything even harder to bear with. 

“Baby, it’s 3 a.m.

Had you on my mind

And it’s not the first time we’ve gone through this

Wanting you more and more

I can’t help but think of what we could be”.

The music playing on the radio also made things even harder for Jay. He had his arm around her shoulders, like a caring boyfriend would do, even though he knew she saw him as nothing more than just friends. Still, it was almost impossible to not wonder how things could be if he opened his heart to her, if she said yes to him. He sighed, quietly, trying to not let his feelings get the best of him.

 When the uber stopped in front of her building, Jay gently shook her body “Sweetheart, we are here…” he said in a soft tone “Jayboy…” she said in a sleepy voice “Yes?” “Please don’t leave me alone” he smiled, she didn’t have to ask, he was already going to do it “Of course, babe. Let’s go”. Jay thanked the driver and helped her to get out of the car, but she couldn’t even stand up by herself “You might have to carry me” “Yeah…” he grabbed her thighs while wrapped his arms on her torso and lifted her up to carry her till the apartment “...I think so”.

Jay carried her to her bed, took her high heels off and covered her with a warm blanket “Good night, sweetheart” he muttered before standing from the bed to make his own bed on the couch. But suddenly she stopped him, grabbing his arm “No. You said you wouldnt leave me alone” “I’m just going to sleep on the couch, it’s past 3 a.m already, I’m tired” “Sleep here” she tapped the empty space on her bed “You want me to sleep here?” “Yes” she shrugged “Are you that needy?” “What!? No! Why do you think like that?” “You want to sleep next to me, you must be desperate” she lifted her body “Jay… what are you talking about?” “Nothing… I’m just tired. Go back to sleep, I will just make a bed for myself on the…” she cut him, throwing her arms around his shoulder and pulling him to her “What…” “Oh, Jay, your silly boy. I would want your company no matter what” he smiled, hugging her “Me too, babe. Me too” she pulled away a bit just to look at his face “What?” he asked “Want to tell you something” “So say it”, Jay waited, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she touched his lips with her lips. For a few seconds, they just stood there with lips glued. Jay couldn’t move cause of the shock and she couldn’t move because of the disbelief that she actually did that. “Well, fuck that shit, it’s done already” she thought, and started to move her lips. Jay blinked his eyes, then kept it closed and worked with his lips to start deepening the kiss along with her. 

Soon, she was laying with her back on the mattress again, pulling Jay to be on top of her but when she grabbed the hem of his shirt and tried to take it off him, he stopped “Hold on” and took some distance from her “What?” “You’re drunk, this isn’t right” “What?! I’m not drunk” “I saw you drinking tonight “A beer! And I sipped your drink…” she paused to think “...And Heeseung’s, and Jake’s drinks, but that’s all” “I don’t believe in you” “Why not?” “Why would you kiss me and want to rip my clothes off if you weren’t drunk?” “I am not drunk, your idiot, I like you!” “But, you slept all the way here…” “I was sleepy” “You made me carry you!” he said in disbelief “I like being spoiled” Jay chuckled, still perplexed “You… like me?” “Yes…” “For how long?” “A year and a half, I guess” “But… why did you never tell me?” “Cause I was afraid of losing you” he leaned forward to be close to her lips again “You could never lose me, silly” “So you like me too?” “Since the first time I put my eyes on you” “So that means we can keep making out, right?” he laughed “You’re impossible, do you know that, right?” “Yes. Now kiss me, yeah?” and she didn’t need to ask twice, Jay was already with his lips on her again. 

Now her attempt to take his shirt was successful, she opened button by button and the American man didn’t even think about stopping her. While he focused on taking his arms off the shirt, she took the opportunity to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants, sliding her hand into his boxers, sneakily, receiving a muffled moan from Jay. “Fuck” he mumbled when she stopped kissing him to smirk, to show him she was enjoying it as much as he was. ”Come here” she demanded, he obeyed, dipping down to kiss her again. While their tongues danced along with each other, her fingers ran his length, from the base to the tip, rubbing there in circles, then slid it downward again, giving teasing strokes, driving Jay crazy. 

“Damn”, he cursed again “Take your pants off, it’s in my way” “Ok” he stood up and stripped his pants and underwear off. Meanwhile, she kneeled in front of him and as soon as he was completely naked, she took him in her mouth all at once, not giving him a remote chance to even think about complaining. Not that he would. He could feel her throat against his tip, he almost exploded right there, almost filled her mouth with his cum, but no, not yet, he wanted to feel her around him before cumming. “Look, I…” but she barely had started. When Jay was about to say something, she started to move her mouth, back and forth, to slide her tongue in his length, circles motion, up and down, taking him fully each time. Jay’s grip on her hair got even thigher each time she made a move “Fuck, babe, this feels amazing” in fact, way too amazing, at the point of his precum start to drip in her tongue. “Wait!” she didn’t stop “Hold on, babe” she nodded negatively with her head “Come on” he gently pulled her by the hair. She had his fluids mixed with her spit running down her chin, “Why? It’s so good” “Yeah, way too good” “So?” “Wanna cum inside of you” she smirked, then stood up, running her hands up to his chest “Didn’t know you were like that” he bent down to kiss and slightly bite the soft flesh of her neck, taking a slow and needy moan from her.

 “Lemme show how I’m like” “Yes” “That’s what I wanted to hear”. Jay pulled her dress up to her belly button. “Did sucking me turn you on?” he whispered in her ear “So much” “You must be very wet, don’t you?” she nodded, he smirked. With one single move, he put her panties to the side and slipped one finger into her. She whined, gripping on his bare shoulders “I think you can take 2, right?” she nodded again, this time moaning instead of whining when he fingered her again. And again, and again, till her knees got weak “Jay…” “Yeah?” “I need you inside of me” “Me too”, so he pulled his fingers out of her, placing them in front of her lips “lick them” she smirked, and sucked all of her juices from his index and middle fingers “Good girl” “Cut that shit, I’m the dom tonight” “You what?!” “Lay on the bed, Jayboy” he thought about saying a “but” but she didn’t seem to be kidding, so he obeyed. Being very honest, he liked a bossy girl from time to time. So he laid on the bed and enjoyed the view of her stripping down, first her night out dress, then her black lace panties, then he observed carefully her beautiful, curvy body walking toward him, then straddling his hips and bending over to kiss his lips “You’re so beautiful” “You’re so beautiful” “Thank you, sweetheart” she smiled “Are you ready for me?” “Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?” “Oh, Jayboy, you’re so silly sometimes” she aligned herself with his cock, then slid down his length, slowly, trying to take everything in “But I love that about you” she said in between her cutted breath. Jay let a slurred groaned come out from his mouth, she was so wet, so warm, so soft, so fucking perfect, around him. “Damn”, he cursed “Jay” “Hum?” “Are you good? Can I move now?” “Please, babe, please move” “Ok”, and quickly she started to ride him. Up and down, back and forth, making circles and zigzag motions. Jay’s hands rested on her hips, gripping harder each new movement of her. Her moans echoed the room along with his groans, the sound of skin slapping to skin made the act even sexier and her hands squeezing her breasts, hallucinated even more the American man. 

“I can’t take it anymore” he mumbled “Cum to me” he nodded with his head, clenched his jaw, and unloaded everything inside of her, not even minding the fact he wasn’t wearing a condom. But the fact Jay cummed didn’t stop her from keeping grinding on him, “You didn’t…” “I’m close too” he moved his hand to her core, and started to rub her clit “Let me help you” and the help worked very well, soon she collapsed on top of her friend, with her walls clenching around his half erected dick. They stood there, with her laying on top of him, waiting for their breaths to catch a normal pace. Jay caressed her hair, while she drew imaginary lines of his chest “Hey…” she started “Yeah?” “It was amazing” “I know” “I think we should do it more often” he chuckled “Yes, sweetheart…” he paused to kiss the top of her head “...I really think we should”

[starhvney]

𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: blaze, garroth, gene, laurance

𝐂𝐖: NSFW, sexual content and kinks, but nothing extreme or disturbing

𝐀/𝐍: woah omg guys who wrote this?! it wasn't me i swear!! (it was me) i’ll probably make a part two with the other men i didn’t include in this one but um… yeah someone needs to restrain me i’m biting my keyboard

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑺 𝑷𝑶𝑺𝑻 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑻𝑨𝑰𝑵𝑺 𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑻, 𝑰𝑭 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑨𝑹𝑬 𝑼𝑵𝑫𝑬𝑹𝑨𝑮𝑬 𝑶𝑹 𝑼𝑵𝑪𝑶𝑴𝑭𝑶𝑹𝑻𝑨𝑩𝑳𝑬 𝑾𝑰𝑻𝑯 𝑺𝑬𝑿𝑼𝑨𝑳 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑻 𝑷𝑳𝑬𝑨𝑺𝑬 𝑫𝑵𝑰.

𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐙𝐄 | biting/scratching, restraining, predator/prey

☆ you had discovered that he got off on chasing and catching you one day when you had jokingly teased him and ran away, giggling as you went to hide from him. he had frozen just a second, giving you a headstart before he quickly went after you.

it’s really unfair, a human running away from a werewolf literally twice her size in height and muscle. you let out a surprised shriek when familiar, thick, tan arms wrap around you.

it felt like he was nearly about to tackle you, but you’re instead whisked off of your feet and pressed into the nearest surface—the wall. you tilted your head back to look at him, eye’s widening when you catch his gaze.

he huffs, hunched over you and pupils blown wide in lust. you’re shocked you riled him up so easily, and you’re just about to open your mouth to tease him again when he pins his hips into your behind. he grinds his hardened bulge into your ass, cutting off any of your previous thoughts and turning them into mush.

“got you.”

☆ you’re just so cute when you look up at him like that, eyes wide like a bunny trapped in a wolf’s claws. it’s instinctual, really, so can you blame him for how turned on he gets? the thrill of the chase and claiming his catch is in his blood.

so it’s no wonder that he claims you there and then, not bothering to move to the bedroom and instead humping into you from behind.

“so tight.” he groans, his voice nearly sounding like a growl. “feels s’good every time.”

he bites down on your shoulder, groaning and fighting off every urge to immediately go hard and rough. he still knows you’re smaller, and it shows in the way you whine when your pussy stretches and flutters around him, struggling to take him in.

☆ when you finally do adjust, rip to any kind of movement or function below your waist for the rest of the night. you will be numb and sore for days.

one of his hands easily has your wrists pinned together, pressing your arms against your chest while he uses his other arm to guide your hips. it’s incredibly easy for him to do, lifting you up before bouncing you back down on his cock at a ruthless pace.

you’re not sure what to do with yourself, head drooping and legs twitching and flailing while he has you completely restrained by your torso. he was hitting so deep, you’re sure you can feel it in your throat with every thrust.

his nails dig into your sides, not breaking the skin but still leaving irritated scratches along the surface while his mouth continues to hotly lick and bite into the skin at the juncture of your neck.

☆ it’s not until a mix of your cum is dripping out of you, trailing down your thighs and onto the floor beneath you that he finally calms down, whispering apologies in your ear while leaving sloppy kisses on your jaw.

“sorry, babe,” he pants, heart thrumming in his chest against your back. “i don’t know what came over me.”

he once again picks you up, carrying you bridal style in his arms as he kisses every scratch and bite mark he left behind before cleaning you up and snugly tucking you under him in bed.

𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇 | size kink, manhandling, breeding, praise

☆ he is tall and he is stupidly strong. he would never ever use his strength to hurt you, but he still loves how much smaller than him you are. he thinks it’s adorable, how easily he can throw you over his shoulder, or how he can flip or bend you whichever way he wants.

you had let out a startled squeak when garroth had scooped you up as soon as you entered your home, wasting no time before the front door had even shut.

he had carried you with ease to your bedroom, tossing you onto the mattress without even slightly gasping or struggling for breath. when his long, thick fingers met your folds to prepare you, he was surprised to find you were already soaked in your slick.

“does me throwing you around like that really make you this wet, baby?” he smirked, slapping his erect cock onto your stomach, admiring how the tip nearly reached your navel.

☆ he knows he has to be careful, with his unnatural strength. but it’s so hard, especially with how your cunt greedily sucks him in, fluttering as you struggled to adjust to his size.

“fuck,” he hisses, his fingers roughly gripping the sheets by your head. “relax, sweetheart. or it’ll never fit.”

“ ‘m trying!” you whine, never getting used to the stretch even after all of the times you’ve gone through this process before.

☆ as soon as you finally do adjust and he bottoms out, you find yourself practically folded in half as he pounds into you, his hips slamming against your thighs.

his eyes focus on your lower abdomen, fascinated at the bulge that appears every time he slides himself back into your walls. his hand is large and warm, something that overwhelmed you as he pressed down against your stomach.

your legs shake and spasm against his hands as your eyes roll and your head lulls back. a sign, garroth has learned, that showed you were close to tipping over the edge.

“are you gonna cum, baby? yeah?” he pants in your ear, his pace stuttering. “go on. do it for me, i know you can. mhmm, good girl.”

as you tighten and flutter around him he lets out a broken moan himself.

“you gonna let me cum inside? you’d look so cute pregnant. you gonna let me fill you up? make you a mommy?”

☆ he buries his face into your shoulder when he reaches his peak, strong hands holding you in place as his hips jerk and press into you. his grip would probably leave bruises, ones that he’d individually kiss and apologize for when you were done.

a deep, husky groan vibrates against your throat as he stills, and his hot release shoots up, coating your insides white. you’re still catching your breath when he places sloppy kisses against the crook of your neck, lowering your legs and massaging your hips.

“you did so good for me, sweetheart.”

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄 | degradation/teasing, spanking, dacryphilia, dumbification

☆ you really should know better than to try and tease and be bratty to him, because it always ends the same. though, you did know better, because he always reacted exactly how you wanted.

you whine into the sheets your face was shoved in, your grip white-knuckled against his pants as you were splayed across his lap. your back arched against his long hand that held you in place, while his other one cracked down against your reddened ass once again.

your hips jerk against the leg you were bent over as you muffle your moans.

“where’d your claws go, kitty?” gene questions, gently soothing the irritated skin with his lithe fingers before delivering another harsh slap. “you were talking all tough earlier, weren’t you?”

☆ he lifts you up, keeping your head face first in the bed while he raises your ass up in the air, pushing himself into you. he gives you just enough time to adjust before he’s started a merciless rhythm, your moans and cries stuttered and jolted every time he slams into you.

“poor thing…” he turns your face to the side, kissing the tears of pleasure from your cheeks and licking his lips with a grin. “just keep taking it. can you at least do that? hm?”

you nod, gasping and eyes rolling as the thick vein running along his shaft continues to hit that one mind-shattering spot inside without fail. you’re not sure how many times you’ve came now, but the soaked sheets and sticky feeling against your thighs was enough of an indication.

“good doll,” his thumb from the hand that firmly held you down between your shoulder blades rubbed soothing circles on your skin—a sharp contrast to his rough and unwavering pace.

“yeah, you’re too sweet to be tough, aren’t you?” he tilts his head, laughing at how your attempt to tease and one-up him once again ended with you drooling underneath him. “sweet thing.”

☆ he’s the type to mock your moans as he has you bent over and nearly unconscious, his deep voice pitching higher as he whines and gasps in your ear.

“ah~! mmn~! aah~!” he whines, a raspy laugh leaving his lips when he realizes you’re too fucked out to even respond.

“aww, can’t take it anymore? you should’ve thought of that before you started talking like you were all tough, huh?” he juts his lip out, giving you a look of fake pity as he continues to show no mercy in his pace.

☆ it’s not until he knows you really are at your limit that he finally slows down, brushing your hair back and kissing you as he rolls you over to lay on top of him.

“are you okay, lovely?” he whispers, holding your droopy head between his hands.

you sleepily nod, relieving his tense worry that he had been too rough on you. he wraps his arms around you and mutters for you to hold on as he carries you to the bathroom, whispering praises in your ear and peppering sweaty kisses against you.

𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 | marking, overstimulation, orgasm control, begging

☆ you’d lost track of how long you’d been in bed, something that was a common recurring theme anytime laurance dragged you under the sheets with him. 

his hips leisurely roll down into yours as a lazy and overconfident smirk stayed cockily plastered on his face. he ducked his head  down into your neck, kissing casually on the exposed skin as if he wasn’t balls deep inside of you right now.

“laurance,” you whine in frustration, hips twitching and bucking up into his. “please.”

he bucks deeper into you, pinning your hips into the bed and preventing you from squirming any further. he tilts his head and hums innocently, lips brushing along your jaw and hovering over your lips.

“please what, my love?”

“move,” you demand, cheeks red and chest heaving.

he clicks his tongue disapprovingly, continuing to slowly grind into you as his lips trail away from yours, moving to nibble on your earlobe.

“well that’s no way to ask for something…” he purrs, voice vibrating against your ears.

“please, go faster, harder, something!” you grit, nails digging into his shoulders as he suddenly draws back and snaps back into you.

“good girl. keep begging for me like that and i might give you more.”

☆ the teasing fuck doesn’t actually keep to his promise until you’re a babbling mess from his slow movements, spasming on his dick while he’s barely gotten started. when you finally really beg for him, you almost regret asking for it. almost. 

“oh, fu-ah!” you cry out, hands reaching down to push on his waist in a futile attempt to slow him down. “slow down, laur—ance!”

laurance barely raises his head from where he has just been sucking on your chest, lovely red and purple marks forming on the sensitive skin. his eyes droop in satisfaction as he stares down at you, admiring your mussed hair and bleary expression.

despite your overstimulation, he continues the same unrelenting tempo, his length battering your insides as he smiles down at you.

“oh, but how could i after you asked me so nicely to speed up?” he asks, relishing in how you spasm around him as he coaxes yet another orgasm from you.

your eyes scrunch as you arch up into him, gasping and frantically steadying yourself by digging your fingers into his toned back. you see white as you gush and squirt around him, jaw dropping as you try to catch your breath.

you think you’re in the clear as his hips still against you, giving you a moment of reprieve to recover. as soon you open your eyes they blow wide open, a startled moan leaving your lips as he pulls out to the head and hastily snaps himself back in.

“c’mon, just one more for me? you can do one more.”

☆ “just one more” is never the case with laurance. it’s not until he himself has wasted his own energy that he finally collapses, leaving you both spent and satisfied against the sheets. 

he relishes in the afterglow, giving you sloppy kisses as if he hadn’t been doing that for the past couple of hours anyways. after his legs return their strength he carries you to the bathroom, knowing he once again left you sore and used.

he’s used to the scandalized gasp and harsh slap he earns on his chest when you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. 

☆ he always leaves you with hickeys spanning from your neck down to your breasts. sometimes you’ll find them on your lower stomach and thighs… if he spends a little extra time on you that day. 

“laurance zvahl! how am i supposed to hide this?”

“by wearing my sweater again…” he giggles, rubbing his hands along your waistline.

©starhvney, 2024. please do not steal or repost my works as your own.

[hiddensanctuarywrites]

Oh how the turn tables

Lawrence Oleander x Reader/MC

Warning: NSFW, Noncon. Read at your own risk!

A/N: I felt an overwhelming desire to be mean to Lawrence, so I wrote this instead of working on my main story lol. Enjoy! ❤️

This is what you get for asking a cute stranger what time it is, you guess. Stuck taped down to a chair after he freaks out and knocks you unconscious. Waiting until he decides to go through with killing you or something, you're not really sure.. It's really hard to tell what is going on in Lawrence's head.

It's the second day here and you woke up to find him asleep on his bed. You're sure he was more careful taping your arms down this time and decided it's worth trying to free yourself again. You pray that he doesn't wake up as you begin your second battle with your restraints.

It was actually the left arm of the chair that loosened, then eventually gave way after a little more effort. You used your free arm to quietly pull off the right side and took the small knife left on the table in front of you to cut yourself free.

You're a bit dizzy and sore standing up but you need to figure out what to do now. You look around the room and then to your captor. Your frustratingly handsome, mentally unstable captor.

…An idea suddenly hits you. You hope to hell it'll work and you'll be very happy if it does. Time to try and give this man a taste of his own medicine, and then some.

You single out a large heavy pot with a fern growing inside, set on his kitchen counter. You very slowly walk over and lift it up as quietly as possible. Walking over to him didn't wake him up, but as you strain to lift the pot high in the air, you accidentally nudge the bed, scaring him awake.

But by then it's too late for him, considering you drop the pot directly on his head, knocking him unconscious. You wince a bit out of sympathy and quickly grab the pot, noticing that it's left a small gash on his forehead.

You're unsure when he'll wake back up so you have no time to waste. You quickly put the fern back in its place, fix the chair up again, and heave Lawrence over to it. It takes quite a bit of effort to move his body but you manage to get him propped up before securing his arms and legs to the chair. Not sure how he'll react initially, you decide to put some tape over his mouth as well.

You take a step back, satisfied with how restrained he is, before looking for something to scare him into cooperation. The tiny knife you cut yourself free with won't do and the giant sheers he has set aside seem overkill…

You rummage through his kitchen and eventually find a chef's knife in one of his drawers. You sigh in relief before standing in front of your captor turned captive and wait patiently for him to wake up. It wouldn't be fun playing with him while he's still unconscious, after all.

…

When he finally comes to, he wakes with a start. He very soon realizes that he’s tied to the same chair you were just in earlier that day and you're standing in front of him, watching him. He looks up at you with a terrified expression, unable to say anything with the tape over his mouth.

“Do as I say and I won't hurt you, okay?” you say gently, but the knife in your hand is showing that you're not messing around.

He's shaking and tearing up now as the gravity of the situation sinks in but eventually nods and you smile gleefully.

“It doesn't feel very good being tied up, now, does it? …Well, I'm not letting you go. I'll take the tape off your face so I can hear your pretty voice though. Be good and quiet or I'll find something else to shut up that mouth with, okay?”

You rip it off as painlessly as you can and when it's finally off, he asks, “W-what do you want from me..?”

You give him a very obvious once-over. “What I'm Going to do... is play with you. However I want.. until I'm completely satisfied.” He shifts uncomfortably in the seat, a nice blush starting to dust his cheeks. “Wha- N-no..don't…”

You pet him, running your hand through his hair, even though it doesn't console him in the slightest. “Oh, honey.. You don't have a Say in what happens to you now.”

He whimpers at that and you continue petting him. “Even though I wanted you so badly from the moment I saw you, I Was going to let you go on your way.. But then you knocked me out, took me home with you...even gave me a wound to remind me of you when I leave. And now.. we're here. You had Your turn..and now it's mine.”

“W..what are you going to do..?” He's still shaking, looking equally bewildered and terrified. When you grab his flaccid cock through his sweatpants, his breath hitches. “I told you, I'm going to play with you until I'm satisfied.”

Now understanding what you mean, his face turns red as his dick twitches in your hand, hardening slightly. You smile coyly, squeezing him lightly to make sure he knows that you know he's reacting to you.

He turns his head away and closes his eyes, clearly disliking how his body is betraying him. “Nuh uh, no looking away. You know what happens when you don't listen, right?” you quietly chastise him, moving your knife back and forth a bit.

You don't actually want to hurt him but this is the only way you figured he'll listen. Thankfully he does, looking back at you but clearly getting frustrated. You knock that look off his face by rubbing the length of his cock a few times through his clothes. “Good boy.. keep those eyes on me, got it?”

You set the knife down on the table behind you before running your hands along his body, from his bare arms to his shoulders, down his torso, along his sides and ending on his thighs.

He's really wrestling with that command to keep looking at you as you're doing this but he’s able to focus on your face since you're busy paying so much attention to the rest of him.

You kneel in front of him, looking up to make sure he's still watching you. You rub his thighs as you talk, “I'm going to need to take these off. You'll cooperate with me, right?”

Not waiting for an answer, you undo the string on his sweatpants and work on pulling them off. You grin teasingly when you see that he's going commando and he looks away, shutting his eyes tightly from embarrassment.

You let it slide this time and tug on his pants more. When you clear your throat as a warning, he cooperates by hovering above the seat just enough to get it down to his ankles.

He's not fully hard yet but he's well on the way. You blow on it, watching it twitch from the smallest bit of contact. “So cute.. I'm going to really enjoy this, Lawrence.”

He doesn't say anything but you can tell a part of him likes it because he keeps getting harder.

“D-don’t look…” he whines out, his embarrassment getting to him. You decide to take it easy on him and focus elsewhere, running your hand up his torso and further up, past his neck to gently cradle his face.

“...Do you have any idea how attractive you are?” you ask him almost accusingly, brushing your thumb along his cheek before sinking your fingertips into his hair.

You really want to bully him a bit more so you grab a fist full of hair near his scalp and yank his head back to run your tongue roughly up the side of his neck.

He reacts by letting out a strangled moan, so you bring your free hand down to jerk off his cock as you suck on his neck hard enough to leave a deep bruise. At that, he cries out your name in a low moan but still is coherent enough to beg “no, not the-ere..”

It's not enough. You need him turned into a pathetic mess. Lucky for you, you know exactly what to do to get him there.

You kiss down his torso, spreading his legs apart wider and getting between them. You make sure that he's looking at you before opening your mouth and lightly slapping the head of his dick against your extended tongue.

He's entranced now and watches closely as you slide him deep into your mouth and rub your tongue against it. It must feel really good because he's twitching again and letting out another strangled whimper, louder than before.

It doesn't take long for him to let go and just enjoy you giving him head. Not much longer than that, he's almost at the edge of coming undone and filling your mouth with his load.

…And that's exactly when you move back, sitting on your legs and watching his reaction. He looked like he was in such bliss until he realized his cock left your mouth. “Why..? Why did you stop..?” He's confused but that quickly turns to frustration and anger when he realizes that you're toying with him.

“Until I’M satisfied, remember?” you say teasingly. You run your fingertip down his length and rub his inner thigh with your other hand but that's clearly not enough for him.

“You damn flower. I should've just killed you when I had the chance.” he growls out. “Well, that's no way to talk to your captor, especially one that's been treating you so nicely.” Your hand reaches back for the knife, a reminder of who's in charge right now.

That seems to shut him up and you're satisfied with that. “Ask nicely and I Might let you cum… eventually.” He's still pissed but clearly thinking it over. You rub his cock a few more times to keep it nice and hard as you add on some probably vital information. “Otherwise I'll just edge you as much as I want without giving you any release.”

He looks a little worried as your words sink in but he still doesn't give in. So you do what you said, going between sucking him off and jerking him off until you can tell his orgasm is close, then backing off completely to let him cool down. It takes a couple rounds of this until he finally cracks, whining out “l…let me cum..”

“Say please.” you demand, keeping your hand hovering around his painfully hard member. He whimpers at that, not wanting to give in completely. He rubs his thighs together, thrusting up a bit in a pitiful attempt to get some friction. To get you to touch him again.

He has tears in his eyes when he finally gives in. “....p..please..” Extremely satisfied, you practically purr your reply. “Good boyy, that wasn't so hard, was it? I'll make sure you cum so hard you're seeing stars… When I'm done.”

Knowing that you're not going to give him his release yet makes him sob quietly but that's quickly turned into another moan when you put your hot mouth back on him.

By the time you have him at the edge again, he's broken down completely, begging “ple-ease, please, Y/N, I'll do anything.”

That stops you. Anything? You were going to just use that tea on him to knock him out and leave after untying him but.. “Anything huh? You promise?”

He whimpers, shaking. “A-anything.” You smile, going back to playing with him. This time, when he's close you keep going, jerking him off and fondling his balls with your mouth firmly over his head.

When he finally comes, his whole body locks up as loads of his spunk aggressively shoot into your mouth, filling it up easily. You work him through his orgasm until he's whining from overstimulation.

He looks completely dazed when you get up but comes to when you're suddenly grabbing his jaw and kissing him, forcing his mouth open enough to spit his own load inside before clamping your hand over his lips.

“Swallow.” You demand, and having no choice, he does. You smile happily at that. “You said Anything, right?” He suddenly looks afraid but nervously nods.

You pick up the knife and slice of the tape binding one of his arms before undoing your pants and sliding them down. You grab his hand and hold it against your parts, watching as he flushes all over again.

“Look at what you did to me.. Be a good boy and take care of it for me.” You notice his cock is twitching again as he feels up your excitement.

...Maybe you'll keep him locked up a while longer.

[l-starsz]

a/n: i’m currently falling asleep but it took me all day to write this and it’s like 2.6k words. idk if it’s good or it’s it’s just a whole load of yap, but it’s based on this poem (idk if you can even call it a poem really) i wrote and i thought it’d make a cute fic so here it is. i’m gonna brush my teeth then go to sleep, goodnight🩷

(the poem or whatever you want to call it⬆️)

i felt like i couldn’t leave my bed. nothing felt right. everything was wrong. nobody called. nobody texted. and i didn’t bother texting or calling first. i didn’t want to be a burden. obviously i didn’t want to be alone. how difficult can it be to meet new people? to find the person you want to spend the rest of your life with? well the answer is that it seems very difficult.

everyone i’d ever loved had screwed me over in some way or another, so i’d given up even trying. there was no point. i just wanted to go home. not to my house. i was in the comfort of my own house, yet my heart still ached. my chest ached just as much. almost as if every breath i took was more painful than the last. simply just breathing could make me anxious. my heart raced, and my breathing sped up, making me worry more. it was a never ending cycle.

i knew i longed for something way more than just ‘home’, but i couldn’t quite place it. was it a place? somewhere i’d visited before? or maybe a person. but who? i had nobody. i longed for a girl i’d never met. who i didn’t even know existed, and she didn’t know i existed. but i needed her. whoever she was.

the feeling was a permanent weight on my shoulders, pushing me further down day after day. i wasn’t sad. i just felt empty. the pit in my stomach grew more the longer time passed. and it stuck there. burrowed deep, clinging onto me. but the feeling would often make its way up to my chest, clawing at my heart, trying to rip me to pieces from the inside out. the more i thought about it, the further it allowed itself to travel. to grow. it crawled to my throat, trying to make its way out through small sobs.

it never left, though. no matter how much i cried for someone, i never felt any better. the feeling was glued to me. attached. my eyes stung with unshed tears. until they fell. each one hurt more than the last. each one a sign of my loneliness. nobody but myself there to wipe away my tears. nobody to catch me when i was falling. nobody to hold me close and remind me that everything would be okay. just myself.

the silence of my bedroom rang louder than my thoughts. louder than the noise of the tv. it never filled the silence. it somehow made it worse. constant echoing that i hadn’t found the one. not yet. maybe not ever. i’d almost given up hoping. i hadn’t found anyone. not my person.

but i continued hoping even when it felt useless. longing for somebody to come along and stop this loneliness i was drowning in. someone to save me from myself.

and i found her. just when i thought i was trapped, by myself forever. she came along. billie.

i decided to get myself out of the house for a bit to try to feel a little better. i went for a walk, music blasting through my headphones whilst i wandered to a nearby cafe. i only wanted to get a pastry. i walked slow, kicking the autumn leaves every step i took.

once i got there, i sat at a table in the corner after paying for my food, music still easing my thoughts, just quieter this time. in such a public place, i still felt lonely. but it softened things just slightly. honestly, i got lost in my thoughts again, completely forgetting about the untouched pastry in front of me, instead just staring blankly towards the door.

my mind was in a completely different place until she walked in. she caught my eye immediately. she may have been the most beautiful girl i’d ever seen in my life. i could tell she was kind just by looking at her. she was by herself, wrapped in warm clothes. she looked cosy. and i didn’t even realise i was staring until she scanned the cafe, looking for somewhere to sit before she paid, and made direct eye contact with me.

i quickly looked away, letting my head hang down, trying to avoid her gaze. trying to act as if i wasn’t just practically staring into her soul. i scrambled to grab my phone to distract myself, waiting for her to sit down and trying to resist the urge to glance over at her again. i opened and closed a few apps mindlessly, but to my surprise, i heard a quiet voice, and a shadow covered over my figure.

i looked up slowly, hoping for my sake that it wasn’t her because i would definitely embarrass myself. and of course, it was her. i mean, i wasn’t disappointed, just nervous.

“hey,” she smiled. soft and welcoming, “can i sit..?”

i nodded my head before answering, “uhh yeah, go ahead.”

her smile was contagious, i couldn’t help but smile back. a genuine smile. when she’d settled down, taking her jacket off and placing her things on the table, she leaned forward with her arms pressed against the table.

“sooo, you waiting for somebody or did you come here by yourself?” her voice was gentle. pretty, just like her.

“i mean, i’ve got no one to wait for, sooo.. yeah by myself.” my lips pressed together in a thin line, “sorry, sorry.. that sounds stupid, i have friends, i just don’t see them much so i’m usually by myself.”

andddd there it was. i embarrassed myself. i should’ve kept quiet, she probably thought i was some weird loner. but she just frowned slightly before continuing to speak.

“looks like i made a good choice coming over here then, hm?” a small smile showed on her face when she finished her sentence.

and i couldn’t help but smile back and look down, nodding my head.

“yeah. yeah i suppose so.” i laughed breathily.

she was sweet. people usually just avoided me, but not her. she was friendly, and seemingly caring.

“what about your food? did you forget about it?” she giggled.

my eyes snapped towards the plate in front of me with shock on my face.

“oh- oh yeah i did, i got carried away with my thoughts..” i laughed back.

luckily, she didn’t mention me staring at her, but she definitely saw me. after a while of talking and eating together, we got to know eachother pretty well, but good things come to an end. her phone rang and at first she ignored it, but it rang again, making her realise it must be important. when she answered, her eyes went wide, before speaking to me once the call had ended.

“oh gosh.. i gotta go, i’ve got a meeting that i forgot about.” she rushed to put her jacket back on and collect her things, “can i.. could i maybe get your number? this was fun..”

“yeah of course.” she handed me her phone as i typed my number in, and my name, trying to hide the huge smile that came to my face.

“i’ll message you. or call you. or- yeah!! sorry i need to go! i’ll see you around.” she spoke quickly, waving goodbye to me as i answered, before rushing out the door.

wow. i didn’t even expect her to look at me, let alone speak to me. i sat in the cafe a little longer, my cheeks burning and heart racing, replaying the whole conversation we’d had. once i realised how long i’d been there, i got up and left too, only this time, my heart felt warm. it still ached slightly, but a little less than before.

later that day, she stuck to her word. she messaged me.

‘hey!’

‘it’s the girl from the cafe:)’

‘wait i never told you my name sorry’

‘i’m billie’

i immediately smiled when i saw the messages. i tried to wait to answer for a little bit, not wanting to seem desperate, but i wanted to talk to her so bad. so i answered within less than ten minutes.

‘hey billie:)’

‘how did the meeting go?’

we spoke for a little while. almost for the rest of the day. days passed like this. we messaged eachother every single day, never failing to find something to talk about. it got to the point where i looked forward to waking up to see her name on my phone, or getting to message her the second my eyes opened.

after days of messaging, she finally asked me to call her. i knew i could have asked, but i didn’t want to seem clingy or weird, and i didn’t want her to feel like she had to say yes just because i’d asked. after that first call, we just got closer from there. calling at any opportunity we got. spending free time together. i really really liked her. she filled that pit in my stomach. made my heart full. she made me feel loved, even though we weren’t together. she was there.

she felt like my person. things felt right again when i was with her. i felt complete. but even with billie there for me, i still struggled sometimes. the loneliness of my bedroom still haunted me. and one night it got particularly bad.

billie didn’t know about this feeling i had, i’d buried it so deep and pushed it down, making sure she never knew, but now it was coming up. i needed her. i couldn’t stay here any longer. i felt trapped again. i needed to be with billie. so i called her. she answered on the first ring, of course.

“billie?” i spoke, my voice barely above a whisper.

“you okay, angel? you sound upset, what’s going on?” i could hear the concern in her voice.

billie knew me inside and out. she could tell when something was bothering me, so of course this time was no different. i took a shaky breath before answering.

“can i..” i paused, hesitating slightly before continuing, “come over please?”

part of me hoped she wouldn’t hear me. i knew she would say yes, but i didn’t know if i could be this vulnerable around her. not because of her, but because of me. i had trouble telling people things sometimes, and this was one of those things. but my desperation to have billie with me overpowered this.

“of course you can. can i come and pick you up?”

“you don’t have to, love, it’s okay i can walk.” i answered as i started putting my shoes on and grabbing a jacket.

“no, no. i’ll be there in a couple minutes, don’t worry.”

i sighed and agreed, although i couldn’t help but smile.

sure enough, she pulled up after a few minutes. the drive to her house was calm. relaxing. just what i needed.

it didn’t take long at all to reach her house, and the second we stepped inside and our shoes were off, we made our way to her sofa, and i curled up against her side. billie pressed play on whatever she was watching when i called her, then spoke.

“what’s the matter, baby? what’s going on?”

i bit my lip, trying to put my feelings into words without sounding stupid.

“before i met you.. i felt lonely all the time. i felt like i was longing for somebody to come into my life, but i didn’t know who. i just needed somebody. and that person was you. but sometimes when it’s late at night, and i’m alone in my room, i still get that ache in my chest of loneliness. not because i have nobody. because i know i have you always. just because i’m alone in the moment. and it hurts really bad sometimes. tonight was just one of those nights..” i spoke, my voice breathy.

her face softened, her fingers started running up and down my back as she moved her free hand to brush my hair away from my face. i tried to look away, but it was no use. she just moved my head so that i’d look back at her. my eyes watered, but not from sadness, i felt embarrassed. too vulnerable.

“why didn’t you tell me sooner? i’d happily come and pick you up any time you feel like that.”

“i know. i’m sorry i didn’t tell you. i just feel.. i don’t know. small? vulnerable? i feel like i sound dramatic if i try to speak about it.”

she nodded as i spoke, taking in every word i said. her hands continued their movements on my back and through my hair, reminding me that she wasn’t going anywhere. that she was actually listening. she always listened. no matter what i was talking about, even if it wasn’t important, billie was there to listen. always.

“you’re not dramatic, my love. that’s a normal feeling. feeling lonely is normal. i’ve got you. you’re never going to be lonely with me around, i promise you.”

in that moment, it felt right. i needed to tell her. i didn’t know if she felt the same way, but if i didn’t tell her now i was never going to. and maybe that would be for the better, just in case?

“billie.”

“hmm?” she kept stroking my hair.

“i love you. in more than just a best friend way.”

she froze. no. no no no. why did i say that? i knew she didn’t feel the same. and now i was going to lose her because i couldn’t keep my mouth shut. she didn’t say anything for what felt like hours. but then she did.

“i love you so much, my pretty baby. in more than just a best friend way too.” she breathily laughed.

and then i froze. just like she had. was i imagining it? surely not. but she was staring back at me with a huge smile spread across her face, and tears welling up in her eyes. she was being serious.

i launched forwards further into her arms, my lips pressing against hers in a kiss that we both had clearly been waiting forever for. and that’s how billie became my girlfriend. that night she held me and didn’t let go. didn’t let me go anywhere alone. she made sure that the feeling went away. the never ending ache. it went away. billie was the person i had been waiting for forever.

when i started struggling with my mental health again, billie was right there to pick me back up. to make things easier. and vice versa. we didn’t leave each others sides.

and we would often go on walks together. sometimes back to the cafe from the first day we met. sometimes just to watch the sunset. as long as we were spending time together, we were happy.

~~~~~

“you know, i’m glad you were staring at me that first day we met.” billie laughed, taking my hand into hers as we walked towards the cafe.

“stopp!!” i rolled my eyes, laughing too, “you’re the one who came and spoke to me and sat with me.”

“i know, baby. and i’m so happy i did.”

“i’m so happy you did too. you feel like home to me, bils. you’re definitely my person. i’ve never once felt alone with you.” our hands swung slightly as we walked.

“you’re my home too, angel. always. my baby.”

and i knew i’d never feel that ache of loneliness again. not with billie by my side. and i knew she wasn’t going anywhere. so maybe, finding the right person wasn’t that difficult after all. they just appear in your life when you need them the most.