#time is a loop the earth is flat. what fucking ever

[spoopdeedoop]

BACK IN THE FUCKING BUILDING AGAAAIINN

[anomaly-hivemind]

Money for Muff ☆ Dragon! Crocodile x Reader | Kinktober Day 21

Summary: After losing elven paradise, you move to a big city, but actually working sucks. Luckily you can suck for work instead ¯\_( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)_/¯

Word Count: 1084

Tags: finger sucking, blow jobs, slight handjobs, riding, dom/sub dynamics, anal, grinding, gn reader, fantasy au

You used to have a nice life, a good life. Where you lived in peace and harmony with the earth. At least, that was until your forest was destroyed by drought and sandstorms, and your people scattered. So you moved to one of the bigger cities, Rainbase specifically, and gave being a bartender and a waitress a go; after all, elves had a lot of appeal to the other races. 

But you just can’t do it, it fucking sucks! People leer and hit on you all the time and act like they can own you. So you quit and became a full-time sugar baby to a dragon. If your body is gonna be on display, you’ll be damned if you don’t get some money for it. 

So you went to the wizard tower after hours and were matched with Sir Crocodile. A large dragon with dark purple iridescent scales. It was the best decision you ever made. He was often off doing things for his shady crime syndicate or pirate warlord duties, so you relaxed around his casino with all the fancy clothes and jewelry he bought you.

However, he was here today, and it was time for you to fulfill your end of the bargain, which is your relationship. 

You laid out on crocodile’s plush bed, which was a bunch of blankets and pillows and other soft things atop his massive dragon horde of gold and treasure, in your finest silks with the sleeves hanging off your shoulders as you ate off an opulent charcuterie board; you looked at you when you smelled the familiar smell of Crocodile’s cigar smoke. 

“Welcome back,” You smiled before popping a chocolate-covered strawberry into your mouth. He grunted a reply as he hung his fur coat up and made his way beside you. He dipped one of his claws into the melted chocolate, and you immediately licked it off.  

You wrap your lips around his digit and suck on it lightly; his eyes glare down at you as you move your tongue against his finger.  He pushed his large, rough finger deeper into your mouth, and you let out a muffled whine. He pried your mouth open as he ran his finger on your flat tongue. You looked up at him, and he was still staring back at you with keen interest. You knew what was needed of you to do and what was fully expected of you. 

You pushed the charcuterie to the side, needing no instructions on what time it was, as your fingers looped around the waistband of his pants and shimmied them off. Your fingers traced the shiny scales on his legs, moving back to his length.  You pouted a bit, seeing he wasn’t ready for you to take him.

“Me sucking your fingers didn’t excite you in the slightest?” You asked as you walked your finger up his thigh and traced squiggles back down.

“Do I look like some common whore? That may work on some poor virgin sap, but you’re going to work for it,” he replied.

You sighed, teasing his cock by running your fingers up his shaft and tracing around the head.  You wrapped your hands around the top of his member and slowly stroked down his rod all the way to the base.  From the tip, his cock had a purple hue that faded out towards the middle. On the outside, from just under the tip to the base, there were ridges. You tighten your grip and start to stroke him slowly and look up at him expectantly for his reaction. He was nice and hard, but his expression was uninterested at best, and it caused you to let out a slight whine.  

Tentatively, you stick out your tongue and give the tip of his member a little lick. It's timid, barely even connecting with the surface.  He lets out a short, amused huff at your attempt to be teasing. You licked over the slit of his tip, the taste of his salty precum gracing your tastebuds. You moved to kiss and suck on his balls a few times and lick them by sticking your tongue out a little, then licked a long stripe up to the top before taking him into your mouth and gurgling down his dick. You went slow at first, only taking in a few inches so you could swirl your tongue around. 

You rock your head against him as you suck on his dick the best you can with his size. You massage his balls lightly as you drool around him, filling your mouth up with all of him in between your lips.  You kiss every ridge up his shaft as you go back to bobbing your head into him. Crocodile was laying back as you suck on him at your desired pace. You feel him tracing your elf ears leisurely so that you know you have his full attention. 

You took him out your mouth, pressing one last kiss to the tips before straddling him. You slid over his hardness a few times before positioning him and slowly sinking onto his cock. You let out a breath as you eased your way down his length. You hummed in satisfaction as you felt the ridges, one by one, enter your tight hole. 

“Are you just gonna sit there the whole time?” He raised an eyebrow at you as he blew out a bit of fire to light another cigar. He moves to unbutton his shirt and throws his tie to the ground. 

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “Yeah, I am,” you said as you rolled your hips and began to move. You mewl at the ribbed sensation of his dick. You slowly picked up the pace, and you started to bounce.  He grabs your hips as you tilt your hips up and down on his large length. 

He lets out a groan when you pull almost all the way out your hole before slamming down onto him.  You were bouncing on his long dick until your legs felt like they were going to give up on you. With trembling legs, you pushed through until Crocodile was throbbing inside your rear. You fall back against the large man, feeling dizzy, and this is when he takes over and thrusts up into you.  He fills your ass with his hot dragon jizz; he holds on to you before pulling out of your while grumbling, you were huffing and puffing from the high of pleasure.

[lsunstreakerl]

using this hellsite for its intended purpose (posting smut on main)

this is technically two ficlets, but I'll be posting the second one later. for now, I gift u all 1.7k words of omegaverse, and it's actually max and esteban, omega/omega (I cannot believe I'm writing these words I am going to hell). hi yes hello mature content here. not violent just horny.

This is not any less embarrassing than Max had expected it to be, standing at Esteban's door at five in the morning. He hadn't even sent a heads up text, he'd just shown up.

He's not even sure if Ocon's in the country.

He hopes he's in the country- Max is kind of fucked otherwise, because then he's just standing in front of the door for nothing, and he's pretty sure this is preheat, but he doesn't fucking know.

His heat crisis at the airport hadn't been sexual at all. His cresting heat in his own flat in Monaco had been brutal, but tame compared to what's to come, and Max doesn't exactly have other omegas to ask.

It's not that he's scared, he just-

Well.

There's footsteps on the other side of the door, and then quiet for a moment- Esteban must be checking to see who it is.

Sure enough, the door swings open a few seconds later.

"Verstappen, what the fuck- oh shit."

Esteban smells good, is one of the things Max notes as he's being dragging inside, door shut behind him. He has a big fluffy nest on the floor of his living room, and there's an action movie paused on the screen, and-

Max is pretty sure he's talking to him.

"-aaaaaax. Hey, earth to Verstappen-"

Max blinks rapidly, and then he tips forward and buries his nose in Esteban's neck, pressed right against his scent gland.

"Ah!"

Esteban yanks him back by the collar of his shirt, and Max whines, because he smelled good and he wants more, and it's making him feel better being next to it.

"Why did you do this. Why the fuck- why did you come to me, how long have you even been an omega, what the fuck-"

Max feels a whine building in his chest, because that's a thing omegas do, and he's rapidly realizing he's going to need to get comfortable with a lot of uncomfortable things about his designation soon.

"Christ, okay- okay, come on."

Esteban is leading him into the living room, and Max hopes they're going to the nest, because Esteban's looks so good, better than anything Max has ever been able to build.

Esteban bats at his hands, gently nudging the side of Max's foot.

"Shoes, please."

Max toes them off, and then Esteban tugs him down into the nest, and it's so soft, soft and perfect, and Esteban's got this omega thing on lock.

Max immediately shifts towards Esteban, because he wants snuggles, wants the warm heat of someone else, and Esteban's scent is so nice, even if he smells concerned and bewildered at the moment.

"Right, preheat, okay. Maybe the Dutch do it differently."

Max almost wants to laugh. He has no idea how Dutch omegas nest or heat. He's never been allowed near other omegas.

Esteban sighs, and there's a begrudging type of fondness in his eyes for a moment.

"I'm doing this because I'm a good person, Max, so remember that next time you want to shove me, yes? Good. Come on, shirt off."

Esteban tugs his own shirt over his head, and Max's brain isn't quite moving at its normal pace, but he's compliant as Esteban bats at his hands, pulling Max's shirt off over his arms and shoulders before tossing it to the side somewhere.

Max just wants to snuggle.

Esteban pulls him in, letting Max settle his nose right above his scent gland, chest to chest in the nest as he pulls a blanket over them.

"You have no idea what you're doing."

Max makes a weak whimper, distracted by pressing his nose in until his brain is just a looping mantra of Esteban, Esteban, Esteban-

"Right."

Esteban kicks up a purr, and Max melts on top of him, loose muscles and head fuzzy. His throat hitches, but he can't quite make it go- still doesn't know how.

There's a nose in Max's hair, and one of Esteban's hands comes up by his neck, long fingers running down the side.

Max feels like there's a weighted blanket on his brain, making everything slow and syrupy.

He loses track of time- he's pretty sure Esteban starts his movie back up, based on the explosion noises.

Max barely even registers that he's softly grinding his hips over Esteban's thigh, only notices because Esteban's scent sweetens under his nose, and his purr gets louder.

"Max."

It's gentle, and Max makes a responding hum. His eyes are half open, not really seeing anything.

"Max, you are supposed to heat partner with an alpha."

Duh. Max would've done that, if he was out and trusted any of the alphas to handle him right- his first choice was Daniel, but he's out of the country with Scotty, and Max didn't want to interrupt their trip.

He can't exactly go to Seb.

Asking any of the garage members violates probably a million FIA policies and also the law in a few countries. Lando and George are omegas, but they're new and Max doesn't know either of them, which leaves him with Esteban. He'd shown up on a whim, even though he isn't part of the pack, because he knows he can't handle it alone.

An older, more experienced omega was the logical choice.

He doesn't realize he's whining until Esteban noses at his hair, scent wrapping around him.

"Okay, you don't have to tell me- it is okay, Max. I will help you."

Esteban hitches his thigh up and Max gasps, lightning bolts going through him at the change in angle. Long fingers run down the side of his neck before pressing down on his scent gland, and Max ruts forward, nose back in Esteban's neck. It feels good, and it smells good, and if things could stay slow and hot and nice just like this, Max might be okay with heats.

Esteban breaks that fantasy.

"Go on Max, get a good one in before your heat really hits."

Max whines softly, and Esteban sighs, hand slipping down Max's spine to settle on his lower back, helping him with the drag and slide of it all, the push-pull. Max's brain is liquid, a soft loop of sensation and feeling good.

It's not a rough orgasm by any means- it's gentle compared to others Max has had, washes through him in a way that's slow and overwhelming, leaves him collapsed against Esteban's chest, slick cooling between his thighs.

Esteban noses at him again- he's scenting him, gently pushing the side of their heads together. Max hasn't been scented by a member of the pack before- Daniel scented him regularly before he left, and Nico had done it frequently as well, but they're both gone now, and it's been a minute since anyone outside of Redbull bothered.

"You are okay with fingers? Toys? Mouth?"

Max's hips jerk again at the thought, face heating up. He nods against Esteban's neck, keeping his face hidden.

"Okay. Max, I am not set up for a heat at the moment- I need my alpha to come by with groceries, is that going to be alright?"

Esteban has an alpha? That can't be right- Max has his nose on top of Esteban's scent gland right now, there's definitely no mark here.

He noses at it pointedly, enjoying the spike is Esteban's scent at the sensation, his soft gasp.

"Don't be archaic Verstappen. I can have an alpha without having a bite. I have two, thank you very much."

Okay- Max knows the alphas of the pack significantly outnumber the omegas, but two is just greedy. His scent must change, because Esteban snorts.

"I didn't think you wanted Pierre or Charles, but if you want to share for your heat we can do that."

Max pauses for a moment. He's... actually not sure. He hasn't been with an alpha before, but if Esteban is here- if they listen to him-

Max isn't stupid. He knows his first proper heat is going to be bad, that's his consequence for being on suppressants for so long. Toys aren't going to cut it. They'll keep him from Red Heating, sure, but that's about where that ends.

He's going to be begging Esteban for something he can't give him.

Pierre isn't terrible. He's not close with the rest of the garage, and Max is pretty sure he's somehow managed to entirely miss the memo that Max is the pack omega- probably hasn't picked up on Redbull being a pack at all.

In his defense, there hasn't been a garage pack on the grid since before Max was born.

Charles- Max isn't sure how desperate a heat is going to make him, but if he ends up begging Charles to fuck him he's going to jump out the window when it's over.

Weird cresting heat induced insanity aside, Max has not once wanted anything to do with Charles. He's annoying and entitled, and Max still doesn't believe that he's actually an alpha.

He seems like the kind of guy to want to be a gentleman to an omega, which-

Charles has not once ever been gentle to Max, it's practically the foundation of their relationship, and Max isn't sure if he's going to want kindness and consideration for his heat.

He's not freaking out about it, he just-

He doesn't know.

He's whining into Esteban's neck again, a slow need starting to build deep inside of him. He wants them, he doesn't want them, he cares, he doesn't care- everything is so difficult.

Esteban rattles out another purr, scent heavy in the room. Max settles, nose full of fresh snow and eucalyptus.

He nods his head, a tiny shift, and Esteban's scent takes on a pleased note, sweet and satisfied.

"They will be good, I promise. I'll kick them out if they aren't."

Max is fairly confident that's not how that works, but maybe the French are different. Esteban slides one hand to tap at his phone as the other shifts from Max's back to the front of his hips.

"Okay?"

Max nods, and he's sure his own scent is all over the place, canting his hips up for Esteban to slide his hand down under his waistband, long fingers cool against his overheated skin.

His scent spikes again and Esteban purrs, nosing gently at him.

"It's okay, Max. It's alright, you're okay."

Everything is-

It's a lot.

Max is whining, a soft noise as Esteban works his fingers inside of him, and they're so different from Max's, feel alien inside him, but they feel good too, and Max-

Max wants to be good, wants to show Esteban that he knows how to be an omega, a good omega, even if the pack doesn't want him.

He knows it's not his strongest area- he's poured all his time and effort into racing, doesn't know what to do with himself outside of it, but this- Esteban's fingers inside him, Max's nose pressed into his neck, a slow build- this feels good. It feels right.

[therapyandprozac]

Title: Just Ask

Pairing: The Winter Soldier x The Mandalorian x GN!Reader (they/them pronouns)

Rating: Explicit 18+ MDNI

Words: 2k

Warnings: really dubious consent (until the end), Mando’s a sadomasochist, masks all round (working title was “mask kink” soo), use of Bucky’s code words, oral reader and bucky receiving, reader rides buck’s muzzle, p in v (classic), dirty talking

an: probably the darkest I’ve written in a while. that being said it ends comfy, well, smut-comfy lol.

You may have to suspend your disbelief for this one. Greef Karga had a job that sent Mando to Earth. Stark gave him the reward and threw in a bonus trouble maker. Don’t think too much about the timing or the logic of how or why and watch while worlds collide. Enjoy dark Mando and feral Bucky! Thank you for interacting <3

“Not a droid but he functions like one. The only good part of a droid, blind subservience. All the best parts humans can offer.” He says cupping the man’s barely covered cock with his glove adorned hand and spreading the other across the man’s broad exposed chest.

"Longing, rusted, furnace, daybreak, seventeen, benign, nine, homecoming," He says clearly reading off of his heads up display. The man doesn’t respond to the random string of words until the last one slips past Mando’s lips and through his modulator. His left arm, a metal prosthetic starts shifting and appears to be waking up. The plates shift slightly out of and back into place as if running a startup sequence.

“What do you know about this guy?” You ask the Mandolorian, who is stalking the man he seems to be awakening.

“Nothing. Stark said “if anyone can keep him in line” as he was loading him into my ship.” He says blankly but you can hear how eager he is to fuck the brain out of the hunk of man in front of him.

“One, freight car.” He finishes and the man instantly clocks his surroundings and says with barely used vocal cords.

“Yo gotov otvechat.” His voice is flat and emotionless. You look at Mando confusion plaguing your face.

“Ready to comply.” He purrs through the modulator, his hand rises under the man’s long hair and with a snap the vented black mask falls to the floor. “Eat them out.” Mando’s long arm points directly at you. With wide eyes you look at the cold reflection of the Mandolorian’s visor, then whip your head to the man using his full gait to close the gap between the two of you in a single step. Looking down you realize you’re not prepared for this as you sit still fully clothed.

“What is he going to do about m- oh shit” You get interrupted as he fingers the loops of your jeans and rips them off of you so fast you fall backward onto the cot Mando had seated you on, it dawns on you in this moment that he had a plan.

Your panties didn’t quite make it with your jeans, they sit tight on the thick of your thighs like a lace tourniquet. Without a second thought he grasps the thin material with his cool metal hand ripping it against your skin with ease. Mando watches eagerly, actively not shifting his throbbing erection savoring the tight fabric strangling his cock.

“What’s his name Mando?” You gasp as the man nuzzles his way into your cunt wasting no time before flicking his tongue over your clit repeatedly.

“The Winter Soldier.” He says moving to a better spot in the room to watch what’s unfolding before him.

“How am I supposed to moan tha- oh fuck fu-” Your breathe and words are knocked out of you. You frantically reach for his hair and when the strands of hair finally tangle into your fingers you pull him into you. Causing the thus far silent man to make a pussy soaking moan against your already drenched cunt.

“How is he?” Mando presses, you scoff and moan in response before your brain can form a coherent thought.

“He knows what he’s doing, shi- so good.” You stutter as best you can.

“That’s enough.” Mando orders but the soldier stays firmly in place, tongue thrusting inhumanly fast in your ever clenching hole.

“Stand down soldier!” He orders so loud you squeeze your eyes shut. When the man doesn’t move once again Mando springs to action, putting him in a chokehold before pinning him to the floor with his boot to the center of his back. The winter soldier’s face almost bashes into the floor but is caught a second before by the black muzzle cradling his face.

“Don’t want to hurt this pretty face but-” Mando pauses once he turns the man around. “Dank Farik look at you, pussy drunk can’t even keep your eyes open.” Holding his chin in his hand.

“Maybe he didn’t hear you.” You pant from the cot.

“Doubt that.” He says tossing the freshly muzzled man onto the bed beside you. The winter soldier is sitting next to you awaiting instruction as Mando’s modulated voice shouts.

“Eyes closed!” The Mandolorian demands and not a moment after, the man who was just between your legs slams his eyes closed. You smirk and nod before following suit, this is not the first time Mando barked that at you and you pray it’s not the last.

The familiar hiss and metallic clank of him placing his helmet onto the floor is heard throughout the room. You feel him get on the bed as it shifts and adjusts to his weight.

“Can’t trust him to keep his eyes closed, cyar’ika ride his face.” Mando barely finishes the sentence before the soldier laid beneath him starts moaning at the thought of tasting you again.

“Yes sir.” You climb so you’re facing Mando with your cunt just over the muzzle. Two thick arms pull you down and move your hips against him. “Oh woah,”

“You okay?” Mando coos, his unmodulated voice is exquisite like melted chocolate.

“It’s different, fuck it’s good.” You groan as the ripples in the muzzle tease and catch your clit.

“Gonna have to work twice as hard to taste them, good luck.” He says with an evil lilt to his voice. If you opened your eyes you’d see a gorgeous curly haired man salivating over the leaking cock of the man nuzzling against you as best he can while you grind your hips. Groans surround you when you hear the wet sounds of him slowly stuffing his mouth full of cock.

“Oh,” The man under you utters from under the mask, another word. A satisfied hum escapes Mando’s stuffed lips, you can tell Mando is trying to break him down. You’re enamored by the sounds the Mandolorian is making, the appreciative groans and moans, wet kisses to the head and shaft, choking and gagging as he takes all of him into his throat.

Every sound from the soldier's mouth is luxurious, you can tell he’s lived a rough life but his voice wouldn’t tell you that. Moans and expletives spill out of him you twist to look over your shoulder before opening your eyes. You see the soldier under you with fluttering eyes and flushed cheeks

“Mando I’m gonna, fuck can I cum please?”

“Mmm you asked so nicely, go on, make a mess of him.” He instructs and you let go rocking your hips as fast as you can. The sound of the bulky man bent over a cock sucking and groaning, sends you right over the edge. You feel yourself come apart and squirt on his face, collapsing face first on his abs. A light sheen of sweat coats his skin as his rapidly approaching orgasam racks his body in waves.

You turn your back to Mando and look at the man laid beneath you, His eyes are glued shut, if he didn’t look completely blissed out, you would feel bad for the pools of liquid on his eyes and running down his cheeks. Quickly you pull your crop top off and use it to dry his sweet face.

“Can I unmask him? I want to watch him cum.”

“Yes.” A one word response, proceded by a pop and followed with a choked groan as he continues his mouth’s oncalot on his cock. The soldier lifts his head without needing to be told, you reach under him and unclip the mask. Liquid you couldn’t access still sits wet on his face.

“Can I lick your face?” You ask him, he blinks a few times before nodding and moaning as Mando takes him extra deep. Leaning forward you flatten your tongue and taste yourself on his cheeks, cleaning both sides.

“Kiss him mesh’la he’s about to cum.” He says behind you. The man under you nods violently as you smile down at him. A gentle kiss as plush lips meet each other for the first time, his moans and gasps against your lips makes you needy again.

You grind your cunt against his abs and he cums deep in Mando’s throat. A satisfied groan from behind you turns modulated as Mando’s helmet hisses back on. You turn around and face him eyes wide as you continue grinding on him.

“So desperate darling.” He scans the two of your bodies before continuing. “He’s still hard, ride him.” His voice is like gravel on a summer's day, whether it’s his voice or the anticipation, a shiver runs up your spine.

“Fuck yes please.” The soldier uttered his first full words from under you; both yours and Mando’s head whip over to him.

“Good boy.” Mando purrs as he fists his cock. You slide down and adjust yourself over him before notching his head inside.

“Oh shit,” You say as you adjust to his huge size, you’ve only taken Mando for the last year. So the soldier is new, thick, and oh so welcome. “He’s so big.” You hiss as you try to sheathe yourself on his cock.

“Need help cyar’ika?” Mando’s huge hands grasp both sides of your waist and shove you down with full force. Causing you to scream when your walls are forcibly ripped all the way open. Your scream turns to violent moans as his hands pick you up and slam you down again.

“Fuck fuck,”

“Bucky.” Says the man underneath you through gritted teeth. “It’s Bucky.” He groans.

“Fuck me Bucky, feels so good.” The realization that you didn’t know his name didn’t have time to sink in before your legs became too weak to keep riding him. He tries to thrust his hips up but he sends a questioning look to Mando and with a confirmatory nod from him.

One swift movement and your on your back him fucking into you just chasing the lust in your desperate deep cunt. You let out a choked moan and a deep guttural groan when something changes about the man inside you, he seems more aware and substantially more confused as he intakes his surroundings. Looking down his face drops and he locks eyes with you panic flooding the previously stoic and unreadable blue eyes.

“Bucky it’s consensual, well mostly.” You squeeze your lips together and look down at where he’s filling you so completely. He looks between you and the towering Mandolorian and opens his mesmerizing lips to speak.

“Next time no code words, just ask me.” He says before leaning forward, bracing his arms to either side of your head, and fucks you even harder than before. You can’t process what he meant before your entire body had one soul focus, cumming on Bucky’s cock.

“Bucky please fuck!” You shouted, igniting a moan from the man watching this play out not too far away. His rhythm of his fist on his cock matched Bucky's relentless pace into you.

“Take me so good, doll.” He grunts in your ear and you're done for. You squirt around him and he just keeps his pace, not letting you push him out, involuntary as it may be. “That’s it.” He purrs just above you and fucks you through the shockwaves of your orgasam.

“God please in me, cum in me Buck!” the thought of the man you didn’t know the name of just moments ago, breeding you brings the tide of another orgasam crashing to your shore.

“As you wish.” He mutters before burying his face into your neck and tapping into an inhuman speed carrying you both swiftly to a mind altering orgasam. Slow pulses in and out have you both melting through your aftershocks. You don’t think you’re ever going to be able cum to anything other than these two men worshipping you.

Gorgeous banners by @novathellama 💖

[almostfoxglove]

FREYAAAAAA hi baby <33

made up fic title: tumbling down your street

ooh or for a challenge: you can't be a flat earther!

LOOPS omg. these are so much fun!! thank you for them :,,) I'M HERE FOR A CHALLENGE. LET'S GO YEARN.

you can't be a flat earther! has dieter bravo written ALL OVER IT. childhood friends, perhaps? someone who grew up with dee and knows all his quirks and has seen him through every crazy, cool, and horrible step of his unfathomable rise to fame. the kind of status that has hives of staff and super fans flocking at his heels wherever he goes. no more late night grocery store runs for snacks, just the two of you. no more sundays at the park smoking pot and watching the birds swing through the clouds overhead. no more living together, where he could crawl into your bed whenever he couldn't sleep and beside you pass out immediately.

but a female roommate was not good for his image, according to his publicist. dieter disagreed until the paparazzi snapped a photo of the two of you leaving your apartment, hand and hand, and the tabloids had a field day. your name was everywhere. your parents' too.

for dieter, the world went red. he'd never been so mad in his life. it was one thing for him to be followed, tailed, stalked, prodded - but you were untouchable. you were off limits. no one got to fuck with you. so he moved out, covered his portion of your rent for the rest of the year and moved into some giant, tasteless, empty penthouse downtown with security posted in the lobby. for weeks after the move he slept like shit - reaching across the mattress for you.

you still see each other, of course. but it's different. he's hardly ever in town and you've got your own life. these days all anyone does is placate him, say yes, mindless and boring. when he's working, sometimes all that gets him through a shitty day is knowing you always pick up his calls.

because you know him too well to paint on some plastic smile. you never tell him what he wants to hear unless you actually believe it. so you're the one he calls when he's fallen down some rabbit hole after one too many edibles and is freaking the fuck out. you'll tell him if the world is ending, right? you won't sugar-coat it. dieter insists he's discovered irrefutable evidence that the earth might not be as round as people like to believe? you, trapped in the pixelated screen of his phone, correct him hastily, firmly. tell him he is not allowed to be a flat-earther, that he's smarter than that, and all that tangled-up panic in his chest just... unwinds. like magic. his paranoia clears like fog burned away by the sun.

then it's just you and him on the phone. lying in beds continents apart while you tell him about your week. about your normal-person job and normal-person life and the normal-person date you had that he's privately relieved to hear went terribly. about the painting you can't get right that you know he'd see just how to fix. he promises he'll help you out when he gets home and neither of you acknowledge that his return will be months from now, at best.

sometimes he misses you so much it feels like someone's got a crowbar wedged between his ribs and is wrenching them apart. he tells you as much, and for a second the video freezes you to a single frame: eyes swung high to your ceiling, glassy with tears. by the time you stutter back to catch up with your voice, the glimpse of it is gone. maybe he imagined it. maybe you don't miss him in the same way.

"don't worry, dee," you coo to him - your voice sweet but not as sweet as it is for real, in person. still he clings to it, knuckles white around his phone, gripping too tight as he nods. you smile sadly and a rib splinters in his chest. "gonna see each other soon. then you'll be sick of me."

you're joking, smirking, but to dieter it isn't funny. he's never sick of you, never has been. never will be. and that's the problem, isn't it? that he's got everything and could have more. could snap his fingers and have just about anything delivered within the hour. but for all his having he'll never again get what he really wants - to spend all his days with you, never sleeping in separate beds.

send me a made-up fic title game

[silverfox579]

Repeated time loop/'stuck in a game' fic

This is what happens when you get obsessed with shipping literally every single character but can't bring yourself to abandon an overarching plot

Thinking of seven gamers who play Twisted Wonderland one day wake up as side characters in the game. As in, the faceless/nameless 'Student A' and 'Student B' that we see in TWST. Except the Twisted Wonderland that they've been playing and the TWST game that we know are different. And the world they end up is different from either of those two --> as in, there are Phantoms roaming campus for some reason, and they will chase and kill you, horror movie style.

The Mob Gang all have different personalities, but they share a serious obsession with Twisted Wonderland and whatever dorm they stan the most. They trauma bond and become a ride and die party that always has each other's backs.

But I like to think it's a little funny because like, plot aside, they all have massive crushes/obsessions with their respective dorms, right?But their reasons and ways of showing that affection are all super different.

Like, Diasomnia Mob? She's sweet and shy and will be doing SO MUCH KNITTING for the Diasomnia boys, but they're always anonymous gifts and, like--she'll make a Malleus plushie with all his friends and a felt invitation to the tea party set she makes. But if Lilia were to strike up a casual conversation, vice dormhead checking in on first-year style, she would flat out faint. Her type of crush is the kind that if the object of her affections even talks to her, it's instantly red skin, sweaty hands, body shaking, unable to speak or think coherently, and it's so fucking obvious. A kind of endearing first love...except these are Fae so first = only.

Octavinelle Mob, on the other hand? Most reluctant Octavinelle stan on earth. He will call Azul a scheming bitch to his face and then turn around and buy all Octavinelle-related merch even if he has to mortgage his house to do it. He doesn't want to ever talk to the Octavinelle boys, ever, because he gets all the physical signs of attraction/crushing like the Diasomnia Mob but mentally he would rather die than admit it. Because, like, frankly, these guys are assholes. And he knows it. But he also...can't...stop himself. It's a truly...unfortunate state of events.

Pomefiore Mob is a dungeon-diving sociopath who masquerades as a bookworm when in reality he's got twenty piercings and hunts Phantoms for sport. I sketched out this entire plot because I just wanted to write one scene where the Pomefiore Mob Student (who's laid low this whole time under a bookworm persona) is dragging a Phantom's corpse around the grounds and accidental gets caught by Rook, panics, and UM's away his memories, but Rook is such a freak he immediately notices something's wrong with himself and begins stalker-ing. When Vil realizes there's been this no-name drop-dead gorgeous student in his dorm that's literally been acting a persona this entire time right under his nose? Epel might think it's the best thing since Harveston apples, but Vil is fucking pissed. I imagine it's the satisfaction of finally pinning down the uncontrollable beast known as Pomefiore Mob that sparks their attraction.

Heartslabyul Mob is a rough-spoken protector type who hates violent people but is drawn to the redemption arcs playing out in Deuce and Riddle. He isn't afraid to call people out on their bullshit, but underscoring all of that is someone who will help. I always felt like what the Heartslabyul boys need is a knight---not to save them, but to fight for them. (Slight spoiler, but he himself has emancipated himself before and that is part of what draws him to them: knowing the pain of messy family situations and building something for yourself from the ground up so you can have the haven that your family never gave you.) Man is honestly pretty fearless, which I think is a necessary feature to be able to handle the upper year boys, who struggle with different forms of...if not fear, then social perception/constraints. All the side-stepping the Heartslabyul boys do when their issues are even slightly mentioned in conversation? Heartslabyul Mob is not having it. You can't bullshit him. He cares, and he's willing to sacrifice his relationship with you if it means you'll be for real. The kind of friend we all desperately need, but may not always want/appreciate at the time.

Savanaclaw Mob is a plant nerd who starts out jealous and resentful of Leona who's loved and wanted by the people around him. He's usually really calm and soft-spoken, but his anger runs in the form of a low simmer, until the OB confrontation, where he blows up. When things calm down, post-OB Savanaclaw Mob will have to examine why he actually resents Leona, which is mainly trust issues...(honestly, the way Leona toyed with Ruggie's faith still haunts me every now and then). The dorm's blind faith put too much pressure on Leona (more pariah than person) but Savanaclaw Mob made it clear how much he dislikes Leona yet he still defends him so that's how you know it's the real deal. Isn't really the badmouthing type, but will unflinchingly discuss Leona's faults -> but if Leona gets his act together, he would be his staunchest supporter, he's honestly kind of prime minister coded. Kind of like an anguished/conflicted admirer who resents the fact that Leona's stubbornly struggling alone when there's still so much he can do. He's so obsessed with the title of king that he can't even see that he's already a king in everything but name...

Scarabia Mob who's so chill every bit of chaos slides off her back like water. Drops hints that make Jamil spiral thinking someone's actually caught on, and then makes him even more conflicted by snagging Kamil by the collar every now and then like a tiger herding cubs. Thinking in my head of like: Jamil screaming at her in his OB form; she's just an outsider; why is she even doing this; and then she just smiles and says because you're my favorite. (This is the dude that is always doing small things for you that you think might have a crush on you but is then revealed to have been in love with you for the past fifteen years after you met once in middle school.)

And of course my favorite Ignihyde Mob who I've named Nekomimi-senpai because she's literally a catgirl. Every goddamn anime stereotype of a sleepy cat girl with no boundaries and no shame. Will take random naps in Idia's room, steal his clothes, and then fuck off to go fight Phantoms in the night without indication that anything happened in the morning. I wanted a character who can step into that zone of closeness first because it'll bring out Idia's real face, which has been deeply shaped by the trauma of losing Ortho. I feel like he's the kind of guy who, if you carve out a space in his life, he will do anything to make sure that space does not become (another) hole. He would have monitors. Tracking chips. Security camera footage from campus tracking Ignihyde Mob's movements. But he would also adamantly not confront her about it. Just do a bunch of stuff in the background. (If she's his stray cat, then he's the owner whose job is not to ask the cat what it's been doing outside all day, but just welcome it home without question). They'll have the closest outward relationship first, but obviously, it's a ship that's doomed to sink unless it gets some maintenance...but that prob won't happen til post-OP :D

Tl;dr, what to do when you and the six other top leaderboard players of a niche RPG one day wake up as side characters in your favorite in-game dorms, except the protagonist is missing, your oshis are literally right in front of you, and there are weird-ass monsters everywhere?

(idk i just wanted analog horror, yandere romance, dorm obsession, and hinky dinky protagonist plot stuff all in one fic)

Anyway, is this...interesting to people? Like, idk whether people vibe with my brainrot. I'm still gonna write it either way, but I just wanna test waters here...I've been obsessing over it for weeks now so I really just want some feedback T-T

[tetradynasty]

So, one thing that I’ve seen is people wondering why Fuuko seems to be doing a lot better in this last time loop than Juiz did in her own, especially considering she had 99 previous loops to practice with.

I think that there’s actually a lot of reasons why.

First, the loop itself. The first 20 loops or so were probably pretty useless. By that, I mean that loops without all of the master rules or any of the foundational ones, like kindness or burn, were probably incomparable to modern loops. There would be so many differences that information you gained there would be flat out wrong in later loops. I like to imagine a scenario where in an early loop Juiz and Victor try to prevent Burn from ever being added to try and depower the Sun.

Then there would be the one-off loops where something went wrong, completely dooming the loop. Somebody killed Tell, and now everyone is mute. Or Juiz trusted the wrong person and they rebelled against her. And you know Unluck ruined at least one loop from how much she wanted Fuuko dead.

Also about the loops, we know there is a bit of variance. The author’s deliberately been a bit vague on how much stays the same vs what differs, but people can be born later or earlier, in different places, and that can really fuck up a plan dependent on careful timing. Trying to recruit negators or manipulate events can pretty easily fail if they appear a couple years before you think they would. The missions are different too, so a mission that’s a cakewalk one loop could kill everyone sent to clear it the next. There’s no relying on a scripted plan, you have to be prepared to improvise a lot.

And speaking of plans, there’s also the underlying goal that Juiz has throughout her loops. It’s not actually to kill God. It’s to make the next loop more capable of killing God. Because her biggest advantage is the ability to carry over knowledge, and unfortunately, a low chance of killing God just isn’t worth it when it means she’ll lose all the knowledge she’s gained if she dies and can’t loop. This means that she can’t take huge risks. Staying alive and keeping all her knowledge is her highest priority.

And one of those risks that she doesn’t take is increasing the size of the Roundtable.

The bigger the roundtable, the longer they have to survive against God. During Ragnarock, we see the process of God reaching Earth takes about one minute. So if Juiz is the only member, that means that it is impossible for God to stop her from looping. With Victor as a guard, that time limit can reasonably be increased by a few minutes, so they can add a few more people. But any longer, and it no longer becomes a guarantee. And that means that Juiz has to deliberately fail any mission that adds seats, to not overstretch.

Now that she’s deliberately failing missions, that puts a hard time limit on how far she can get into a loop before Ragnarock occurs. And that’s not counting any missions that may fail for reasons out of her control, such as underlings getting suspicious of their leader who keeps on trying to fail missions.

And that’s where it starts coming down to human nature, and what I think is the biggest reason Juiz isn’t as successful.

Juiz and Victor aren’t as empathetic as Fuuko and Andy are.

UU is a shonen manga at the end of the day, and there’s a big focus on how teamwork and connecting with other people is the best way to overcome your problems. And Juiz and Victor aren’t going out and building the team they need, because of who they are as a person.

They have reasons for this, of course. Victor is overprotective, stubborn, and willing to sacrifice countless other people to protect Juiz. She’s the only person he cares for after so many others have left him, and is the only person that can understand what he’s gone through. Billions of years of suffering have worn away any softness he might have, any desire to reach out to others.

Juiz has gone through everything along with Victor, with the addition of the fact that Unjustice is implied to only work on people she doesn’t like/hates. So she is encouraged to dislike people she meets, in order to not be defenseless against them.

However, it’s not just all of the disadvantages that Fuuko no longer has to deal with. There’s all the advantages in this loop, that come from everything Juiz has done to increase their odds.

Juiz was the one that put G-Liner into the loop, which allowed Anno Un to save Fuuko in loop 100 and Fuuko to grab a bunch of artifacts in loop 101, creating Andy eventually led to Andy restraining all the master Rules and preventing them from fucking things up before the Union was ready to fuck them up which Victor refused to do, and lastly there’s all the general training and knowledge she gave Fuuko.

So I guess what I’m saying is that yes, Fuuko is doing better than Juiz did. However, that’s based on a hundred loops of Juiz’s hard work.

[imafirefly]

It was almost therapeutic to be out here at this point for Abby. Outside of Lev, she lived a relatively solitary lifestyle on the island. She did what was needed and she was damn good at it. She trained. She scouted. She patrolled. Recovery, rescue. Whatever required going to the mainland, Abby was normally the one in charge but whenever she had free time, she was found away from the crowd. Lev had been far better at getting involved. Not only did he study, but he socialized and he thrived. It was more than she could have asked for. When they'd arrived there, he was just a kid and a kid that had been through far more bullshit than he ever deserved. As long as he was happy, Abby was happy.

Swing after swing, she hacked away at the wood. Each swing grew in force and what composure she'd exercised back at the cabin and on the freeway, she didn't need to have here. Alone in the trees, she could release all of the emotion she'd needed to contain. The snippets she did share with Ellie brought back painful memories. What happened to her and Lev in Santa Barbara was beyond words. In a word where literal fucking monsters roamed and ripped people limb from limb trying to infect what was left of society, the capacity for cruelty that came from survivors far surpassed anything the infected could do. They were at least operating off of basic instinct whereas people had a choice on whether or not to act. Some didn't. Some did. And the Rattlers had been as close to scum of the fucking Earth as she'd come across.

Abby still bore scars from her time with the Rattlers and not just the mental scars. Her back was littered with long scars going every which way, a display of punishment for what the Rattlers had determined to be difficult behavior from her. Difficult being she wouldn't let them beat the shit out of Lev or anyone that was more vulnerable than her and couldn't defend themselves. Difficult being she took a second too long to catch her breath when they had them working all day in the California heat. Difficult being they didn't like the way she looked in their direction. It didn't matter. Any opportunity to beat the shit out of her, they would. Belts, batons, a chain, whatever was in reach. Each had left it's mark accordingly but when the choice had been between her or Lev? She stepped in every single time. No way was she going to let them beat the shit out of a kid.

By the time she had snapped back to reality, she had hacked out a large portion from the body of the tree. "Shit," she mumbled, looking at the wood chips scattered on the ground around her. Lifting the front of her shirt, she wiped at the layer of sweat that covered her face before letting the fabric drop back down. The sun was creeping farther away and it was time to head back. She'd put together a relatively large pile of branches that would work well enough for logs in the fire pit. Now it was just a matter of getting them back. Too clunky to hold under her arms. An idea popped into mind and she lifted her shirt up once more to remove her belt. Abby kneeled and laid the belt flat, piling up what she had cut onto it before looping one end through the other and holding it tightly enough in place that she could get them from one place to another.

With the hatchet in one hand and logs in the other, she made her way back towards the cabin. The crickets were in full force now as she trudged through the brush, silencing as she walked by before picking their songs up as she passed. It wasn't too long before she was back in view of the lake and she could make out their figures in the distance. All seemed well. Soon it would be time to cook and couldn't do that without a fire. With that in mind, she approached the firepit and loosened the belt to allow the wood to tumble out. Looping it back through the loops of her pants and securing it in place, Abby began the task of splitting the wood further into more of a manageable size for the firepit.

Ellie’s callout stops her and Abby with a quick little sigh turns back around to look at her. There’s not much more she has to say to her right now. They had coordinated on responsibilities and Abby was off to do her part and get some much needed alone time. An eyebrow cocked upward as she awaited whatever it was the other had to say but a thank you had been the last thing she was expecting. Her brows knitted together in slight confusion. There wasn’t anything she could think of that’d she done off the top of her head that warranted some kind of thanks. It’s what made it so surprising when she thanked her for… honesty? For telling her something that had happened years ago? There wasn’t really an understanding of why thanks had been offered but she wouldn’t argue against it. Nor would she push to question why she felt it was necessary. Instead, she let her eyes drop to the dirt for a moment before looking back at her. Ellie had offered up honesty to her as well. That meant something? Didn’t it? Or were they simply just trading stories to keep occupied while traversing the wilderness. After a moment, she shrugged her shoulders and nodded once. “Yeah, you too.” It was about as much reciprocated thanks as she would get out of her at that moment.

There was no wait for a response as she turned to head off towards the tree line. She couldn’t wait for this fucking trip to be over. No more walking on egg shells. No more skating over thin ice. Back on Catalina, she would be able to return to her normal and not have to worry about the other woman for the rest of her days. Get her there alive and in once piece. That was her responsibility and once it was complete, she would continue on no worse for wear. Abby would go back to scouting and training. Lev could go back to his studies. Normal. Or at least as normal as one could achieve in such a world.

Abby waded deep past the tree line and it was here that she finally found some semblance of peace. It wasn’t silent, no. Bird call filled the space around her and the sounds of crickets began to interject chirps as if they were beckoning the night to arriver sooner. A breeze here or there rattled leaves and she found herself taking a seat before a large stump before relaxing back against it. The greenery above her is beautiful and the blue sky pokes through the leaves though it’s started darkening every so slightly. Once night is upon them, she’ll be grateful to relax by the fire and then get some sleep on a mattress.

How long she’s sitting there, she’s not sure. It’s still light out but it’s creeping ever so close to the evening. With a sigh, she pushes herself up off the ground and dusts the back of her pants off. With the hatchet in hand, she looks around for any low hanging fruit first. Nothing much sizable in terms of branches that litter the ground. Chopping it is. She scopes out suitable branches and begins chopping, starting a pile close to where she had been seated earlier.

[nebuulaa]

I'm tired of the what ifs

That spin like an elliptical

Grip at all my hope

Like a tug of war rope

Until it fades to shades of grey and self doubt

What about what I want

The things I believe and feel

Questioning what's real

I want your seal of approval

I will lay in bed

Beg for you to tell me its not all in my head

But the voice from the void

Will yell back, annoyed,

What if you're wrong

On a loop

Like a song you're tired of hearing

I'm nearing my limit

And I'll wonder for a minute

Is it worth it

To want all this and feel like shit

To exist in this limbo state

It's not great

Cause its late

I'm irate

And for three days straight

I'll debate

If I should wait for an answer

Or just ask the fucking question

What are we doing here?

Cause I have no more tears

This is my final frontier

Are we nearing the end

Or will this always have been pretend?

I'm exhausted 'cause I love you

And I want the shit our friends say to be true

I'm not new to rejection

Do I need to pick a different direction

Abandon hope and seek some connection

With a guy who will never live up to you

Cause that's not something I think I can do

I won't settle for second best

Test my resolve

Life, a puzzle to be solved

See how much I can do a second time around

I'll hit the ground

Land flat on my face

Fate putting me in my place

Needing to learn how to be alone

On a planet that never felt like home

Until you walked into my world

Reality unfurled

I was a girl

Running from love like a lamb from slaughter

Undoing everything her shit mum taught her

Who suddenly discovered her self worth

Like a rebirth

Like feeling alive on earth

For the first time ever

Ready to pick up this new endeavour

It's not that you made me whole

Just reminded me that I have control

I finally have a goal

The betterment of my being

Seeing that I am capable of more

That I'm not a chore

And I don't bore people

You don't complete me, not really

You just made me see things a bit more clearly

I won't say any of this out loud

I'll blush and retreat into the crowd

Head bowed

Not take up more space than I'm allowed

I'll keep silent, won't bring it up again

I know I'm destined for a life as the girl best friend

[sukirichi]

not shy

megumi was not shy around his crush — and that’s a fucking lie.

request: shy megumi who is really flustered around his crush + his friends and gojo-sensei helping him confess

note: this is fluff and a semi crack fic too LOL i hope you guys enjoy this, i had a lot of fun with this one! unedited too, as usual!

word count: 4.5k

masterlist !

playlist made by the lovely @savantsoulfinder​ thank you so much! 

“Yo, Megumi-kun, can you take—” Satoru halted in his steps, following the trail of sight that his dark-haired student seemed to be so enamoured in to not even notice his teacher walk his way. “What are you staring at?” when his gaze landed on you, head thrown back in laughter and slapping Panda’s arm over Yuuji’s joke, Satoru’s eyes beamed even under the blindfold. “Oh? You like Y/N?”

Upon hearing your name, Megumi immediately snapped back to life. He scoffed and turned away from you, scowling to himself with his arms crossed against his chest. “No, I don’t. I don’t like anyone.” So defensive.

“Is that so?” Satoru teased while biting back his laughter, “Guess you won’t mind if I call her then. Hey, Y/N!”

“Gojo-sensei, what’re you doing?!” Megumi grabbed his teacher’s sleeve, whisper-hissing and cursing under his breath when Satoru caught your attention. You waved at them both, skipping until you were getting impossibly closer and closer and closer.

“Well, I don’t want you to carry these all alone. You’re gonna need some help.”

“I’m perfectly fine – h-hi.”

Shit, you were now here. You smiled up at him, hands folded below your bottom before tipping your head to the side, looking under Megumi’s ducked head to see his face. “Hey there, Megumi! Looking cute today,” you winked, causing the poor boy to blush madly. You never noticed, though, your attention now taken by your teacher turning red as he stopped his laughter. “Gojo-sensei! You called me?”

“Oh yeah, you’re just right on time. I was going to ask Megumi here to bring these books all back to my office but it’s probably too heavy for him so I asked—”

“It’s not heavy,” Megumi took the books that Satoru placed in your welcoming arms, the slightest touch sending jolts of electricity down his spine. He pulled away and clutched the books closer to himself at the sudden buzz, narrowing his eyes at his teacher who obviously couldn’t mind his own business. “I can carry it by myself.”

“I still wanna help, and I really don’t mind. Plus, I haven’t talked to you in a long time. I actually kind of feel like you’re avoiding me,” you pouted, and that simple gesture had Megumi feeling like he was sinking deeper into the ground.

He was ready for the whole world to swallow him up.

Satoru took pleasure in Megumi’s reddish ears and clenched jaw, cupping his own jaw with his hands as if to mock. “Aw, Megumi, why would you avoid precious Y/N? Did she do something wrong to you?”

“No, she didn’t.”

“Well, if there’s nothing wrong, you two better scoot before you get late to your other class!”

“Alright, see you around, Gojo-sensei!” Shit, why were you such a good girl? Now he was stuck with you, and Megumi huffed while hesitantly sharing the books with him. You walked close enough to him that he caught a slight whiff of your shampoo, the scent clouding over his usually sharp mind. Now, though, Megumi could barely recognize the hallways he walked on, relying only on you to lead the way. “So...how’ve you been?”

“Fine.”

“How about your studies? We have an exam next week – maybe you want to study together? Inumaki-senpai and I were supposed to have a study group with the others but everyone just wants to study by themselves,” you turned to him with a small smile, “I do better when I’m with someone though.”

Megumi managed to give you a split second glance before he darted his eyes back in front of him again, swallowing audibly because he couldn’t understand why you had to look so pretty smiling like that.

His palms grew sweaty with each passing second, and he grimaced at the uncomfortably feeling of his collar getting sticky. “Uh, wh-where would we study? We don’t have a library or anything.”

“The training grounds is refreshing, but I’d like it to do it better in my room.”

“Do what?” Megumi halted in his steps, his eyes blown wide at your words.

“Study, of course. What else?”

He wasn’t sure whether to laugh or be worried that you frowned in confusion, almost as if you didn’t understand the weight of your words. But then again, you’d always been so damn oblivious that it made sense. Megumi shook his head, continuing on to the teacher’s office before remembering he still lost his sense of direction, so he bit his lip, obediently following you around like a puppy.

“You shouldn’t just invite anyone to your room, you know.”

Once you both made it to the empty room, you carefully placed the books down on Satoru’s desk. He raised a brow at the extra detail you put into, tongue peeking out from the edges of your lips as you made sure all of them were placed together neatly.

Satisfied with your work, you clapped your hands and turned to him.

“I’m not. You’re not just anyone to me, Megumi,” Suddenly, you leaned over him, his mind screaming at him when your lips lowered down to his neck. Megumi’s spine stiffened so quick he might as well be a flat board, his chin pressed to his neck when he felt your teeth graze his exposed skin for a moment. “There’s a loose thread,” you showed him a small thread with a small smile, which fell as fast when you saw Megumi standing uncomfortably straight. “Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to invade your personal space like that!” “I’m a little weird, aren’t I? That would explain why you’ve been avoiding me. Do I make you feel uncomfortable?”

“No, it’s not that...it’s just...”

“Just what?”

His mind blanked. Ask him anything about curses or their history and pretty much anything – he’d be able to answer – but not this. They didn’t teach this in the books and out of frantic nervousness, Megumi ended up spewing the first thing he could think of, his brows drawn together that only added to his intimidating look.

“I’m just annoyed that you scored higher than me on the previous exam.”

“Oh,” you fell for it, snapping your fingers together as you laughed. Somehow, the sound of your melodious laughter had his shoulders easing from the tension, the smallest of smiles hinting at the edge of his lips. Gosh, he was so whipped for you. “Was that really it? I thought you were avoiding me for something serious! Well, how about this, let’s study together and let’s see who’s the smarter one. The loser will get tickled to death!”

“I haven’t even agreed to that condition yet.”

“Okay, what do you want if you win?”

Megumi blushed as he blurted out, “You.”

Before he could regret what he just said, you scrunched your nose and pointed to yourself. “Me what? You want me to do something? You want me to buy you ice cream or—”

“Never mind,” he mumbled behind his palm that was now covering his mouth, refusing to show you that he actually wanted to laugh at how naive you could be. Not that he was complaining; it saved him great pain that you could never know his feelings for you. “I’ll ask for it when I’m sure I’ll win.”

“Ah, not a man of uncalculated risks, I see,” you ruffled his hair, the poor boy stiffening up again under your touch. “This is why I like you so much. You’re so thoughtful.”

“Please don’t touch my hair.”

Megumi was complaining, his shoulders raised beside his ears while he scowled at you, but the way a small, almost inaudible purr left his lips said otherwise. He didn’t want you touching his hair – only because he was shy and it would be the death of him if you saw how easily flustered he was around you.

Thankfully, you showered mercy upon him, raising your hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, we should go back to class now.”

Megumi sighed in relief, content for now to walk you all the way back to class as you talked about your day. He wasn’t actually listening, but a stupid smile was there on his face, anyway. He likened the sound of your voice to those of birds chirping and sunshine waking – and he felt like he was the fresh earth you always kissed.

“You’re going to burn a hole in her if you keep staring at her like that.”

“Shut up,” Megumi averted his eyes away from you, stabbing his yogurt with his plastic fork. A part of him felt annoyed that you just had to look so pretty today, your bright voice filling in the cafeteria that put his constant sour mood to shame. The stark difference between you two made Megumi sigh in his seat, abandoning his fork as he leaned back. There was no way you’d like him back. “I wasn’t looking at anyone.”

“Ugh, why are boys so creepy? Staring at Y/N like that, ew.”

Yuuji ignored Nobara’s comment, and for once, Megumi let it slide when Nobara stealed his untouched yogurt. “Why don’t you just tell her you like her? She’s literally the sweetest person ever – the chances of her turning you down are low!”

Nobara snorted, “Yeah, but if the sweetest girl in school rejects you, that’s really humiliating. That would mean she likes everyone but you.”

Satoru popped out of nowhere – that stupid blindfolded bastard who started all this – his arms looped around Yuuji’s neck whose entire face illuminated at having his favourite teacher around. “I think the scary-looking Megumi-chan is actually just too shy to be confess,” he wiggled his eyebrows, pointing a finger fun to Megumi’s deadly narrowed gaze. “Can you believe it? My dark, brooding student is hopelessly in love with the cute, sunshine girl next door that he’s so scared around her? Isn’t that so adorable—”

“Everyone shut up!” he hissed through gritted teeth, “I’m not scared of anyone or anything.”

“Then tell her you like her.”

“Fine, I will.”

“I bet you ten dollars he won’t do it,” Satoru whispered, the two students who shared one brain cell beside him nodding eagerly.

“I said I will!”

“Good morning, Megumi! Come in, come in,” you ushered him in once he stood frozen at your door, his hands now awkwardly clutching his own notes. “You can take a seat on the bed.”

Megumi wasn’t nervous of the fact this was his first time visiting a girl’s room, but rather because it was yours, and each part of your room resembled you greatly. From the organized and clean space, but the noticeable adorable little trinkets and polaroids of you with everyone sticking on the wall, he could feel your entire soul living in that room. When his eyes landed on an old photo of you holding up the peace sign and noticed for the first time he was standing in the background, unaware he was captured in the frame, Megumi inhaled sharply.

Had you pretended to take a selfie just to see him there?

No, he shook his head, there was just no way. He really couldn’t ponder about it long enough because you’d dragged him by the sleeve until he was sitting right next to you, the fresh scent of your body wash making him feel stunningly warm inside his clothes even when the windows were open.

The whole time, Megumi couldn’t absorb a single thing you were saying.

He was just too distracted by everything about you – the way your lips moved when you spoke, how you’d tuck back a stray hair behind your ear, even to the way your mouth would form an ‘o’ shape as you learned something new. No, he couldn’t focus at all.

Megumi has lost count of the times he’d wiped his shaky, sweaty palms on the pads of his sweatpants, hitching his breath every time you leaned close to him to glance at his notes.

At this rate, he’d be the loser in your little competition. It was just impossible for him to focus on anything else.

“Megumi?” you waved your hands in front of him. When it wasn’t enough to get his attention, you resorted to flicking his forehead and he yelped, rubbing at the sore spot. He faced you, a complaint ready to be spoken when his eyes widened at the sudden lack of proximity, your nose booping against his. “Hello, Megumi? I’ve asked you the same question twice now and you haven’t answered yet.”

As nicely as he could, he pushed your face away, his heart thumping loudly when you laughed as you went back to your own space. “Sorry, could you repeat that? I wasn’t really listening.”

“Yeah, I can tell, you were just staring at me the whole time,” you held your phone up in front of your face, checking your reflection on the screen on different angles. He watched, enchanted by how gorgeous you looked no matter what side. “Is there something on my face...? I’ve been checking non-stop and I don’t see anything weird.”

Megumi swallowed nervously, “There’s nothing wrong with your face. I just can’t focus. You’re too close and I-I can smell you.”

“Do I smell bad?!”

“No, you don’t! You smell really sweet!”

“Aw, thanks! You smell sexy too,” you winked at him, wiggling your shoulders as if to share your scent with him. Megumi’s eyes widened when your shoulder rubbed against his, and he recoiled, arm placed over his nose to hide his emotions that were a train wreck right now.

“Sexy?” he spluttered, “Why would you say – me – sexy? You’re so weird, Y/N. You shouldn’t say stuff like that.”

You patted his thigh in a manner that should be comforting, but the teasing smile on your face only had him wanting to jump out the window even more. Then, you stood up and stretched the material of your shirt riding up until he caught sight of your navel. Megumi turned away and closed his eyes, cheeks trapped between his teeth. “We should take a break. Treat’s on me – where do you want to go?”

“Err,” he scratched the back of his head.

“Oh, don’t look too worried, it’s a weekend. Plus, Gojo-Sensei isn’t around to bother us or something.”

“You...you want to go out...” he drawled out slowly, tentatively, surely – just to make sure that he was hearing it right. “...with me?”

“Yeah, I did just ask where you want to go.”

“Oh,” Megumi nodded with a blank face. Then, your words sank in, and he folded his knees to his chest to hide his face and his sickly sweet smile, the butterflies in his stomach progressing into a fucking zoo. “Oh.”

“Are you sick? You’re so red,” your palm connected with his heated forehead, “Megumi, you’re burning! Should I take you to Ieri-san?”

“No, no, I’m fine,” he pushed your hand away, still repudiating to look you in the eye. He just couldn’t, not when you were too inquisitive and he could easily give a dead clue before he got the chance to properly confess. “I mean, I don’t really have a certain place in mind. I’ll go wherever you want to go.”

He should’ve noticed it then – the mischievous glint in your eye that told him you weren’t up to no good. But because his knees always weakened around you, Megumi agreed way too eagerly than he’d like. “Just make sure you don’t regret it, okay? There’s something I’ve always been wanting to try but I never got the chance to and no one wanted to go with me, so you’ll be my willing victim!” And so, half an hour later, Megumi’s jaw dropped as the chill of the arena nipped at his skin. You didn’t even tell him to bring a jacket. “Ta-da!”

“Ice skating?”

You nodded happily, dragging him all the way to the shoe fittings. “It’s going to be fun, come on!”

“But I don’t know how to.”

“Neither do I!” Megumi wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t know how to. No matter how much he tried so hard to learn, he just couldn’t balance himself. The sound of your laughter that let him know you enjoyed this way too much reached his ears as he glared at the ice, his ears red either from the cold or the humiliation of being an utter failure in front of you, of all people! “Need some help there, buddy?”

“I’m fine, thanks for asking. And no, I can do this by myself.”

You masked your chuckle with a snicker, squatting to watch as he struggled to heave himself up back to his feet. “Really? You’ve fallen like, a hundred times now.”

“Shut up. Humans aren’t naturally supposed to do this anyway. We don’t have a human instinct to be upright – whoa!” Megumi slipped again from the ice, this time knocking you down with him. Instead of it being romantic where you two ended up gazing at each other with love in your eyes, your eyes widened into saucers as his elbow landed into your belly, crushing the wind out of your body.

“Ow!”

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to – ugh, this is why I said it was a bad idea!”

All the way back home, Megumi was still entirely convinced it was a bad idea. You were limping beside him, having to use his bicep as a crutch with your head resting on his shoulder. You and your stupid ideas, really, now you were injured and sprained your ankle from the fall. Instead of worrying about your own safety, you only slapped your knee in laughter as the medics fixed you up, still in disbelief that Megumi had fallen a lot of times yet came out unscathed.

“Megumi~ are you still mad at me? Why won’t you talk to me?” you pouted, squeezing his bicep to get his attention.

“It’s because I told you it was dangerous. Look at you – your knees are all scraped and your legs are all wobbly. We’ve still got a long way back home.”

“Maybe you should carry me then.”

“C-carry you?”

“Yeah, so I don’t fall,” you snorted, pointing to your shoeless ankle covered in bandages. “I mean, it was your fault I’m injured. If you hadn’t fallen for me, then this wouldn’t have happened.”

Fallen for you? Did you know that he – ? Megumi’s head snapped to yours so hard he nearly had whiplash, but the only thing he could focus on was the pounding of drums within his chest. “F-fall? How did you know?”

“Megumi, you literally fell on top of me. Don’t think I’ve forgotten already.”

That had him blinking back, his face flattening into a blank expression. Then, he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he stopped in his tracks. “Sometimes I forget you’re terribly naive.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Now get on,” With burning cheeks and a heart that fluttered way too much than what was considered healthy, Megumi squatted down to the ground, patting his back with a groan. You less than jumped into his arms, a little too excited to get a piggyback ride and Megumi expressed his faux distress with a groan. You only pinched his ear and told him to pay you back for your injuries, which made him complain again.

In the end, he was just happy you couldn’t see how much he struggled to hide his smile then, for if you saw it, you’d surely believe he was crazy.

Or so he thought. By the time you’d gotten back to the dorms, you were long passed out on his back. There was a small patch of drool on the back of his shirt and he shuddered, then wiped it away by whispering to himself, it’s okay – as long as it’s you.

Padding back to the dorms wasn’t as difficult as he thought it would be, considering everyone was almost asleep or out to the city as well.

Megumi gently laid you down on the bed, wrapping the blanket around you and making sure your head was comfortable on the pillow. He stayed there for a solid minute, just staring and memorizing your pretty features until he felt confident he could draw it upon memory. Not wanting to be creepy though, he cleared his throat, about to leave the room when your fingers tugged at his wrist.

“Megumi,” you moaned sleepily, “Don’t go. It’s too cold.”

“I’ll get you another blanket.”

“No, stay,” you whined, patting the space next to you. “Please?”

“To sleep here with you?” he asked, baffled and at the same time elated. The last thing he wanted to be was a pervert and he’d never outright admit that his thoughts of you hadn’t always been giggles and rainbows, but he pushed those down, reminding himself that this is you – he respected you above all else. His self restraint slowly thinned though, whatnot with you pouting up at him like that.

Megumi groaned and took off his shoes anyway, planting himself beside you. “This is insane. I think I’m losing my mind,” he muttered to himself. “Move over and make space for me,” you obediently followed his command, using his bicep as a pillow while your cheek squished against his chest. He wondered how you weren’t bothered by his heart’s beating, or maybe it soothed you to sleep because you were falling deeper and deeper asleep, burying yourself in his arms. “God, this is so uncomfortable. I feel like I’m crushing you—”

“So warm,” you cut him off, his mind turning completely mental as he felt your lips pad over his chin. “Goodnight, Megumi.”

How did you expect him to sleep now?

But as soon as you’d settled and only your stabled breathing could be heard from the room, Megumi’s eyes began to droop as well, and it didn’t take long before his arms relaxed around you, lazily pulling the covers up to cover the both of you.

He’ll tell you another time.

“MEGUMI!” you pushed through everyone and showed him your paper, the bold red mark of 100 glaring back at him. Before he could respond, you stole his test paper from him, laughing at the sad 98 that showed. “Ah, I won!” In the blink of an eye, you’d tackled him to the ground, your knees keeping his legs locked underneath you, test papers flying around the field. Your hands were relentless and brutal as it ran and poked up his sides, eliciting squeaky little gasps from him.

“Stop, stop!” Megumi doubled over in laughter, keeping his feet flat on the ground to prevent himself from accidentally kneeing you. He’d hurt you enough during the ice skating dilemma – he didn’t want to cause you anymore injuries. “No, stop!”

“I won, Megumi, I won! Face the tickle monster!”

“I said stop or else!” he warned, completely aware that he wasn’t as threatening or serious as he wanted to be when tears leaked from his eyes, his laughter embarrassingly giggly and high pitched.

“Or what, loser?”

“I’ll kiss you until you shut up!”

“That’s adorable, but let’s see you try!” you kept tickling his sides, the both of you completely oblivious that the rest of your classmates – your teacher who was more than supportive of this pairing included – were hiding behind a bush, their phones whipped out to capture each second of this moment. “Loser!”

As you mocked him one more time that you wouldn’t stop tickling “losers,” Megumi had to draw the line. Using all his strength, he flipped you over until you were underneath him, the sheer force of the impact keeping you nestled between his arms.

Both of you were panting, but this time his breath was taken away from how beautiful you looked under him like that. Such innocent eyes staring back up at him, but don’t think for a moment he didn’t notice how your eyes trailed over his lips. He knew – because he was doing the same, his grip subconsciously gripping harder at your wrists. If he leaned down...

“This is taking too long!” someone whined from behind the bushes, tips of white hair peaking from the plant. “Just kiss her already!”

Both of you turned at the source of the voice, simultaneously shouting, “Gojo-sensei?!”

“Don’t be shy, Megumi-kun! Just tell her already or I’ll tell her myself.”

“Tell me what?”

Now that your face was peering up at him, he knew he was trapped. Cornered. Megumi closed his eyes, hands trembling and losing their grip around you as he was confronted by the situation. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner,” he fumbled over his words, “But I...I actually—”

“Boring! What kind of confession is this? Say it louder and clearer or she won’t be impressed! Is that how a man does it, Megumi-kun? You can do better—”

“All of you, shut the fuck up!” he roared to his peers who only cackled around the bushes, Yuuji and Gojo-sensei doubling over in laughter while Toge bit his collar to stop the gleeful sounds leaving his mouth. Irritation and humiliation bubbling up in his chest, Megumi finally found the courage to confess. “I like you, okay? I’ve always had a crush—”

You sat up to wrap your arms around his neck, silencing him with a sloppy kiss. At first, your lips kissed the edges of his mouth before Megumi groaned, his large hand clasping the back of your neck to guide you to where he wanted you to be. Smiling through the kiss, you pulled away, rubbing your nose on him affectionately. “Me too, Megumi,” you giggled, “I like you too. Actually, no, I fell in love the moment you almost broke your nose on the ice—” he cut you off by kissing you again, his grip on your waist threatening, “Hey, no fair, I was still confessing!”

“I wasn’t kidding when I said I’ll kiss you to make you shut up,” his confidence had now risen up, all traces of the shy Megumi now gone. “Now tell me that again. Tell me you like me.”

“Okay, but can I get another kiss?”

“You’ll be spoiled rotten.”

“I think I deserve it, don’t you think? I’m pretty cute – you’re lucky you get to kiss—” Megumi tugged you by your collar to slam your lips on his, his teeth nibbling at your lower lip. You tugged at his hair playfully and laughed, slapping his shoulder gently to tap out. “Fine, fine. I like you too!”

“Say it again. Please.”

“Not so shy now, eh, Megumi?” Satoru teased for the final time, and Megumi was so close to bursting a vein in his neck when his teacher showed up from the bushes, sexily posing on the grass as he winked at the both of you.

“SHUT UP!”

[bitch-for-bo]

Aone Takanobu is the best thing to ever happen to you (chubby reader)

All of my works are also available on AO3, under the name idkyo. I write Haikyuu x chubby reader nsfw for chubby simps like myself. If you have any other fics or head-cannons that you’d like to see between a character and chubby reader, lmk!

ENJOY!!!

Also, ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS ALLOWED!!!!!!!! SERIOUSLY

“Taka” you breathed out, feeling his hands snake around your waist as he crawled in the bed to join you. You must’ve been sleeping when he came in the door. In fact, you hadn’t even heard him take a shower or change out of his work clothes. The only reason you knew he had was the clean smell of soap wafting into your nose as he spooned his body around yours. It didn’t surprise you that you hadn’t heard him come in or change his clothes though, ever since you’d met him he’d been more on the quiet side. Not only personality wise though, you swore that he was some sort of ninja sometimes, being able to sneak up on you as you made dinner or as the two of you grocery shopped. It was crazy how such a big guy like Takanobu was quiet as a mouse.

“My love.” He sighed, his low voice barely audible as he let out a content hum, his head burying itself in your neck.

You blushed at the pet name, the only name that Taka ever addressed you as. In fact, you could barely remember the last time that he’d used your real name when speaking to you. The name never failed to fill you with warmth and love. Even when he made love to you, there were no ‘baby’s or ‘princess’s, there was only ‘my love’ and something about the consistency of the use of the endearment made you lose it each time without fail.

There was just something so comforting about Takanobu Aone. Of course, you had already known that seeing as you had been dating him for almost 4 years now. He had been comforting when you first met him, and over the last four years, nothing had changed. If anything, Taka’s presence had become even more comforting as he had grown comfortable around you.

You vividly remembered the first day that you had met him, you were the assigned architect to the site that he was working on. You had shown up, dressed in casual office clothes, a flattering pair of high waisted jeans, with an emerald green button-down blouse. Apparently, you had caught Taka’s eye that first day, and according to him, he had fallen in love with you right in that spot.

You suppose that was the first day that Takanobu utilized his ninja skills against you because you could only remember meeting him and seeing him once, but he swore that he had lingered by you all day, unable to focus fully on his work as you commanded attention around the site.

It took Taka weeks to work up the nerve to ask you out, the only reason he finally did was that his friends had seen how hopelessly infatuated with you he was and tricked him into believing that you would be leaving the project. In a panic, he stayed late at the site just to catch you at the door to ask you to go on a walk with him in the park that Sunday.

You accepted, surprising him. You had no clue why he was surprised, he was incredibly handsome and not to mention strong and polite. When you asked him about his surprised expression, he explained that people were usually afraid of him and he was a bit surprised when you accepted his offer without so much as a look of hesitation.

That Sunday, he met you at a local park and surprised you with a large picnic. He even brought you a small plush teddy bear that he’d seen in the window of a shop on his way to the park. As soon as the blush had danced over his face as his large hands held out the small toy for you to accept, you knew that your heart was his.

The rest was history, every day since then Taka had continuously proved to you that he was the best thing to ever happen to you. You remembered the first time that he hugged you, wrapping his strong arms around you as if you were the most delicate thing on the earth. You only laughed and insisted that he could hold you tighter, that you weren’t a small woman, that you wouldn’t break. Since then, Aone had never held back when holding you. Always holding you close, always whispering to you how much he loved you and your soft form.

Before Taka, you had always been slightly self-conscious about your body. Unsatisfied with the way that your thighs shook and how you didn’t possess a flat stomach or smooth back. But Takanobu insisted that he loved you even more because of your size and never failed to make you believe that you were beautiful. He would massage your thighs as you cuddled, telling you how soft they were and how lucky he was that they belonged to only him. He would buy you the raciest lingerie and stubbornly insist that you wore it for him as the two of you cooked dinner together before he took you back to your bedroom and made love to you.

Despite you having told Taka more than 100 times that he didn’t have to be so cautious with you seeing as you were taller and fuller than most women, he never ceased to be anything but soft with you in bed. Always asking you what felt good, asking you what you wanted him to do to you. He was always gentle as he took you, that being said, even with him being gentle all the time. The man was so big that ‘gentle’ still possessed enough power to completely wreck you inside and out.

“How was your day?” You asked, turning around in his arms to look into his eyes. He stared at you like you were his world, brushing the hair out of your face as he hummed out an ‘it was good’

“I missed you,” He said, tightening his arms around your waist and pulling your body flush with his as he placed gentle kisses in the crook of your neck.

“Taka.” You moaned quietly, feeling the unmistakable outline of his dick on your thigh. You weren’t gonna lie. You wanted him too. It had been a long stressful day at work for you and as soon as you had gotten home you’d wanted nothing more than to be filled and fucked by your boyfriend. Unfortunately, Takanobu had been working late, stuck at the construction site which was at least 1 hour away from your apartment. So you were forced to make dinner and eat it alone, making sure to leave plenty for your boyfriend, who would without a doubt, be starving after a long day of physical labor.

“Yes, my love?” He asked, his lips never leaving your skin as he slowly kissed from your neck down to your collarbone, sucking softly on the area as your body arched up into his. His hands were still wrapped around your waist, trapping you against his large body. The only thing you could do was loop one of your arms around Taka’s broad shoulders and the other around the back of his head, pulling him impossibly closer to you.

“Fuck me please…” you moaned. Your heart clenched as you felt his smile against your neck, his hands shifting from their position on your waist, down to caress your hips. Taka said nothing as he obediently began to undress, undoing the clothes that he had just put on after his shower. After undressing he leaned back down, finally connecting his lips with yours.

You sighed happily into the kiss, your heart filled at the light touch of his slightly chapped lips against yours. He took his time with it, teasing you as his touch dipped in and out of your mouth, never long enough for you to take control as it danced across yours. Not that you could maintain control when you got it, physically, Taka was always the one in control. He wanted you to always feel protected and dominating you in the bedroom was one of his ways of expressing that. Not that you minded, you knew that you were truly the one in control, he was at your service, doing any and everything to please you.

“Taka…” you whined, pressing your hips up against his, eliciting a deep groan from his chest. His hands rubbed against your sides as they made their way down to the hem of your shirt. You had put on one of Taka’s t-shirts, knowing that it made him happy to see you in his clothes.

You felt Taka’s hand slip under the hem of the shirt, stilling as he realized that you weren’t wearing panties. Another low groan vibrated through his chest as he looked up at you with curiosity in his eyes.

“I wanted to be ready for you,” you whispered, barely able to hold in a giggle at the expression of surprise on Taka’s face. He nodded. His eyes left yours, dragging down your figure leaving you feeling hot as they carved a trail from your breasts to your naval.

“I see.” He murmured, his long fingers slaying across the expanse of your upper thighs. His face was level with your pussy and you could feel his hot breath brushing across the exposed flesh, making your head spin. After four years, you still have no clue how the simplest things he did still drove you crazier than a teen on prom night.

Without another word, his mouth attached itself to your clit. You cried out at the feeling of his tongue flicking out across the sensitive bud as his tongue began to slowly dip in and out of you.

“Fuck!” You moaned, your hands gripping the bedsheets beside you as your boyfriend ate you out, passionate and soft at the same time. You could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter at his touch.

What Taka didn’t know, was that you had already tried to touch yourself earlier that night. You had managed to get yourself off, but it had still left you very unsatisfied. No orgasm that you gave yourself could ever compare with one given to you by Takanobu. That being said, your body was still warm and since you had already climaxed once that night, you could feel your next one approaching faster than usual.

“Taka… give me your cock please.” You begged, your hands coming down to wrap around his biceps, attempting (and failing) to drag his body up yours so that you could kiss him.

Taka obeyed, crawling up your lips and capturing them with his own. You could taste yourself on him, turning you on even more. You reached down to slip your hand into his boxers, pulling away from his kiss to moan at the sheer size of his cock in your hand. He groaned as your wrist quickly twisted around the hot flesh. He could feel the impatience in your movements and even though he usually enjoyed taking his time with you, bringing you to climax slowly as you cried his name and begged for him to let you come, tonight he was so eager himself, he couldn’t find it within himself to take it slow.

“Are you ready my love?” He asked, not even bothering to take his boxers off, he wanted to fuck you so badly that he merely slipped his thick cock through the slot in the front. He knew that he’d have to change his boxers after seeing as they were already drenched with your juices, despite only being pressed up against your pussy for seconds, but he didn’t care. You and your pleasure were the only things on his mind.

You nodded desperately, your bottom lip clenched between your teeth as your stomach knotted in anticipation.

Taka guided his cock to your core, grunting as the swollen head slipped through the ridiculous amount of slick covering the folds of your heat. He began to press himself into you, having to close his eyes and still himself every other second to keep in control as you adjusted to the sheer size of his cock.

“Fuuuck Taka…” you whined, your voice high and dripping pathetically with arousal, “I love your cock so much….. so fucking big.”

After another few seconds, Taka was fully in you. The tip of his cock was dangerously close to your cervix and your walls were deliciously stretched around his length. He slowly began to rock in and out, his hands never easing their grip on your thighs as small grunts escaped his lips.

You could feel yourself already shaking with pleasure. Your mind was completely blank, the only thing you could focus on was how badly you wanted him to pound into you, make you his.

As if Takanobu could hear your thoughts, his thrusts began to pick up in speed. His weight shifting on the bed to gain more leveraging in holding your thighs open for himself.

“Faster Taka!” You cried, feeling his hot cock stretch and drag inside of your dripping cunt. You could feel your end approaching much faster than expected, and you wanted to make sure that Taka was just as taken care of as you were.

Taka’s hips quickened further, snapping with quick shallow thrusts that left you gasping for breath.

The room was filled with your moans mixed with Taka’s grunts. Your mouth couldn’t even form words. Were as usual you’d be telling him how good he felt inside you, how big he was, now you couldn’t even form a sentence. All that was coming out of your mouth was unintelligible babbling, begging him to fuck you harder.

“Fuuuck!” you squeaked, your hips jumping and your back arching off of the bed as the head of Taka’s cock hit directly into your g-spot. Takanobu just grunted and drove his thrusts harder into that spot, making you see stars as his cock pounded in you at an unrelenting pace.

“I’m close Taka.” You gasped, tears of pleasure welling in your eyes as his fingers danced across your clit, rubbing small circles around it as his dick continued its merciless onslaught on your insides.

Taka’s lips wrapped around your left nipple, massaging the bud with his tongue. You were almost falling off of the cliff, there was only one thing missing….

“Come for me, my Love” Taka whispered, pushing you off into an intense orgasm.

“Taka!” You cried, your body beginning to shake as your climax took over your whole body, causing your pussy to clench around Taka’s cock that was still pounding into you.

“Y/N…..” Taka groaned, his dick beginning to spasm and twitch inside of you, spilling his hot seed into you. Your pussy milked him as you both rode out your highs, your lips locked as your bodies slowly came back down. As you both calmed down, Taka pulled out of you, a blush gracing his face at the wet ‘pop’. You giggled at him, moaning and keening at the feeling of his hot cum dripping down your thighs.

Without a word, he climbed out of the bed. He picked you up bridal style and carried you to the bathroom to care for you.

You took turns cleaning each other off. Giving Takanobu kisses on his blushing cheeks as you cleaned him and giggling as he kissed yours when he cleaned you. After you were both in fresh clothes with you wrapped up in his arms, you looked up at him.

“I love you Takanobu.” You hummed, your chin resting contently on his strong chest. He smiled back down at you, his large fingers tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. He didn’t say it back, but you knew from the way that he held you, that he loved you. You could feel every ounce of love he poured into you as he carried you back to your shared bed. He wrapped his body around yours again, his head resting on your chest as he hugged your body tightly. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, your fingers unconsciously running through his short blonde hair. Before long you could feel his breathing steady, and you knew that he had fallen asleep. You closed your eyes as well, welcoming the thought of rest as you laid with Taka. As you drifted off to sleep, you couldn’t help but thank the universe that you had met Taka.

He really was the best thing that had ever happened to you.

[summeric]

close call (m)

pairing: jeong jaehyun x reader (y/n)

summary: you both finally had some alone time at the dorm.... but not for long

genre: smut, fluff, established relationship au

warnings: swearing, unprotected sex, bulge kink, hand kink(?), hinted breeding kink

—

‘fuckkkk, baby girl’

jaehyun moaned out as you bounced on his cock, running his hands from your thighs, up your sides and to your tits. he cupped his large and warm hands over them, earning a whimper from you which in turn made him moan again.

fucking in the dorm was always risky, but as the rest of the members were eating out at a restaurant, you had time for a few rounds. at least, that’s what you thought.

so, here you both were, in his room, on his bed. jaehyun had his own room as 127 had recently moved to a bigger dorm, and, being the lovely members they were, let jaehyun have his own room as they knew you’d be staying over a lot. you weren’t complaining, and neither was jaehyun. in fact, it gave him the excuse to fuck you every time you stayed over.

he was sat up against the headboard of his bed with you in his lap, pillows around him and supporting his back, and one wedged between the headboard and the wall. a little trick you both wished you would’ve thought about sooner. the duvet was strewn out messily around you both. this was one of your favourite positions - it hit the right angles, you got to hold him close and vice versa, and most importantly, you got to see his face. the only downside was that your legs got tired easily, but with him gripping your hips and slamming you down onto his length, it wasn’t a problem.

‘mmmm fuck’ you whined out, burying your face in his neck. both of his hands were now on your ass, gripping it and massaging it which only riled you up more. you moved your hands from his shoulders and looped them around his neck, bringing him in closer and encouraged him to start leaving kisses on your jaw.

‘you’re so good to me baby, fucking yourself on my dick like that’ he murmured in your ear, sending pleasurable shivers down your spine, ‘such a good girl.’

a door slamming was heard from the living room of the dorm, making you whip your head out from where it was nestled in jaehyuns neck, and you looked at him with wide eyes. shit.

‘fuck’, he whispered, gathering a blanket which was thrown messily on the bed, and getting it ready in case he needed to throw it over your naked body. he couldn’t have anyone seeing his baby girl like that. no way. ‘shit. they weren’t supposed to be back yet.’

‘JAEHYUN?’ you could hear johnny’s voice shout from the hallway. you went to climb off of his lap, but he held you in a vice like grip, ‘ah ah ah, stay there’ he ordered. you looked at him worriedly. someone was going to walk in, and it was so obvious what you were doing.

‘JAEHYUN HYUNG, YOU HERE BRO?’ now it was mark’s turn to shout, however his voice was much closer, as it came from right outside the door.

‘ahh leave it mark, they’ll be back soon’, johnny’s voice could be heard again, and this time you heard mark’s footsteps retreating back into the living room.

you let out a sigh you’d been holding, and looked back at jaehyun to find him already looking at you, the lust still clouded in his eyes. you thought your fun was over, but clearly not. almost as if he’d read your mind, he chuckled out a, ‘you really thought I’d give up that easily?’, confirming your suspicions.

‘jaeeee’ you whined, ‘my legs ache’, which wasn’t a lie. you were close to your orgasm, and you’d been working yourself on his cock for a while. ‘there’s a solution to that’, he grinned as he rolled you over, you now lying flat on his bed.

as much as jae loved it when you rode him, he loved it just as much as when you were sprawled out beneath him. you looked so gorgeous and perfect to him. and you were all his. no matter how insecure you were, whether it be your body or your facial expressions, he didn’t care. he genuinely thought you were the most beautiful thing to grace this earth, and you were so thankful for that. he made you feel so comfortable, made you feel so much better about yourself. when you were intimate with him you didn’t have to worry about covering your body or hiding your face, because you believed him when he told you you were gorgeous.

on that note, nothing turned him on more than seeing you squirming below him, trying to get him to finally enter you. and when he did, you both let out simultaneous groans. he stretched you so nicely. filled you up so good.

he started thrusting into you, him on his knees with your legs wrapped around his waist. another position you loved - but let’s be honest, you loved every position with jaehyun because he made you feel so good in each and every one. always knowing which angles to hit and what brought you the most pleasure.

this time was different, however, as you couldn’t moan out as load as you wanted. you now had company a few rooms down. you were trying to surpress your gasps and moans, but it was hard when jaehyun was fucking you so hard into the mattress. he couldn’t tell if he wanted to make you moan so loud the others could hear it. on one hand, he wanted them to know who made you feel this good, but on the other, he wanted to savour those lewd sounds all to himself, not wanting another soul to hear the sexy sounds that fell from your lips.

so he just resorted to pressing his hand over your mouth, which turned you on even more. you’re not quite sure why, but ever since you’ve been with jaehyun, even the simplest and most minuscule things he does turn you on.

a loud roar of laughter from where the boys were watching tv bought you back to reality. the chance of them hearing you made you want to speed things up, and so you trailed a hand down to where he was drilling into you.

on your hands journey across your abdomen though, you could feel the faint bulge of where the tip of his cock was hitting your stomach. pressing your hand flat against your lower tummy, you let out a loud moan into his hand and threw your head back further into the mattress, your eyes rolling back.

‘what’s got you so worked up, huh?’ he lightly chucked at you. you moaned in response, and his eyes travelled down onto your fingers that were sprawled out on your tummy, relishing in the feeling on his cock pumping into you. he pushed your hand aside, replace it with his own and he immediately found his answer.

‘holy fucking shit’, he moaned out, pressing his palm harder onto your abdomen, feeling himself slide in and out of your walls, ‘that’s the hottest thing ever. fuck me’.

your little discovery had you both coming closer to the edge quickly, an ‘I’m so close’ being whispered out by you, and a, ‘so am i, doll’ grunted out by him.

being on the pill was a godsend, it meant he could cum in you without having to worry (although let’s be honest, he’d definitely want to put a baby in you), and so that’s exactly what he did, with you coming at the same time with a loud moan, still muffled by his large hand.

after a quick pee break, you rushed back into bed to join him, missing the warmth he provided your naked body. the tv in his room was still playing in the background, and so you decided to put some random show on, not that you’d be paying attention to it.

he rested his head on your chest, but not before giving you his shirt to wear to make sure you wouldn’t freeze to death in the shitty winter weather. don’t worry though, he still had his hands under it, tracing shapes on your side and on the underneath of your breast. something that he innocently did after sex, finding it calmed you down after he’d just exhausted your body.

‘do you think they heard us?’ you asked him as you carded your hands though his black hair, something that calmed him but also could turn him on.

‘i don’t think so, i can still hear them talking,’ which was an indicator that they hadn’t in fact heard you getting pounded by their fellow member, ‘don’t worry baby, they just have the tv on loud anyway’, he said as he left open mouthed kisses on your neck. not again.

[mrs-hyperfixed-writes]

Are You Single? - Part 1

Was originally gonna release it all at once but it was taking way too long and what I had so far was already kinda long. This sort of sets the scene.

Written for: @becomeunsolved

After getting lost in the woods and ending up in a mysterious isolated village, you get captured by Heisenberg and develop a crush, stopping at nothing to get to him.

You imagined that going through the village had been the closest to hell on earth you would ever get. It had been an honest mistake ending up here. Just a simple case of following the wrong fork in the trail. And then night had fallen, the light filtering through the canopy of leaves becoming scarcer and scarcer as the sun slowly dipped below the horizon, abandoning you in a dark forest devoid of noise, the only company being the sound of the snow crunching underneath your hiking boots and the weight of your backpack. You had kept a level head, trying to backtrack but being unable to find the original path you had been set on, and at this point you were sure that you had accidentally brought yourself deeper into the forest. You had decided that the next time you wanted to get away from your shitty job, your shitty flat, and the shitty people you surrounded yourself with you were going to go to Disneyland or something, not go on a soul searching hiking trip in Romania in the middle of winter.

Things began to make noises in the woods, but you refused to stop. Refused to acknowledge them. You wouldn’t be able to see through the dense darkness between the trees with your measly flashlight anyway. And if you stopped, then whatever was prowling the forest might know you were aware of it and take the opportunity to jump at you. So you kept going, hoping that whatever was breaking twigs and making those quiet panting noises didn’t decide that you looked too delicious to ignore any longer. You weren’t afraid of them, not really. It was something else that spurred you on.

Then you had found the village, the enormous castle that overlooked it taking your breath away. For a moment, relief had flooded your system.

It didn’t last long.

***

You fell to your knees in front of the gate to Castle Dimitrescu, exhaustion cutting through to your very bones. In your left hand you held a woodcutter’s axe in a deathgrip. It had been the only thing you had to defend yourself with up until that old man had given you a handgun before he had been dragged away. His blood had spilled from the hole he had created, landing in your hair and drying into a crust. Luckily for you, you had found an old shotgun discarded on a kitchen table in your attempts to escape the horde that had threatened to overwhelm you. It sat in your backpack, the end of it sticking out. You thanked god for deep pockets on hiking trousers. Convenient ammo pouches.

Your jacket was long gone, the monsters that had prowled the village ripping it to shreds in their efforts to get to you. The rest of your clothes were saturated with black blood, your hoodie had become uncomfortably heavy with it, forcing you to take it off and shove it at the bottom of your backpack - which itself was sporting a broken strap. You cleared your throat, spitting a wad of your own blood onto the floor.

A monster had dragged you down below the house, had thrown you out through the wall. You had dropped your axe but had managed to maintain a grip on your gun, and when it had charged at you, you had unloaded four badly aimed shots into its chest and scrambled for your weapon. And when it had charged again you had swung, pouring all your frustration and rage into that swing. You had been through hell already, and for what? Was this punishment for getting lost? Was this punishment for trying to get some peace away from your shitty life? Was this a punishment for those desires that you had buried, that need to be violent and terrifying that you had repressed? You’d spent your entire life shoving that shit down and trying to be a good person. You valued human life, but sometimes you couldn’t help but think some people would look better if they were missing some teeth. Maybe an eye for good measure.

You had turned its head into a pulpy mess even when it had been long dead. Then you had told it to get fucked. And when another one had emerged from the hole you had left in the house, you had bared your teeth at it in a sort of feral smile and waited for it to come. It had circled around you, feeling you out. It looked like it was unused to the resistance. It was unused to a lack of fear.

You had prepared to swing your axe, and addressed it directly, “Dance with me then.”

It had lunged.

And then there had been Luiza’s house. That hadn’t gone very well, the screams of all the people inside still bouncing around your head as Elena’s father had changed. You had understood at that moment that the monsters roaming around had once been people. It had made your skin crawl, and had forced you to fight with even more ferocity when the knowledge that if they got too close to you then they could turn you into one of those horrible beasts with just a scratch. Your jacket had acted as an extra layer of protection, but now it was gone.

You took a deep breath from your position on your knees, hand tightening around the axe. Part of you was horrified with yourself. Horrified that you had given into that need for violence that you had shoved down for most of your life, that you could laugh and smile and indulge in the cruelty of cackling and cursing at the carnage you could wreak on something, even if the victim was a flesh eating werewolf. The rest of you just wanted to survive, knowing that that feral glee that you were trying to keep shoved deep down was probably keeping you alive.

You had no idea what was waiting for you in this castle, but everyone in the village was dead, you had witnessed the last surviving members go up in flames. You couldn’t go back into the forest either, not with all the monsters prowling about. And even if there weren’t any, you might just die of exposure anyway.

So you took a deep breath, reaching for the lever that would bring the gate up.

A steel rod shot in front of your face, embedding itself in the wall to your right. You curled your hand into a tight fist as you stared at that rod. Apparently there really was no rest for the wicked.

“Well, well, well. I didn’t think anyone was left.” A man’s voice.

“Oh for- just give me a break already,” you muttered under your breath.

You turned to look at him, part of you worried that he would be some sort of horrible monster, ready to claw at your skin and chew on your bones as he spoke to you in that accent that you couldn’t quite place. But as you set your eyes on him, your breath caught in your throat.

“Oh. Fuck me,” you whispered under your breath,not caring if he heard or not.

Apparently Red Dead Redemption had completely fucked you up, since now your type was middle aged cowboys that looked like they smelled of cigars and oil. Bits of scrap metal floated all around him. Six hours ago if someone had told you that a man dressed as a cowboy holding a giant hammer had a form of telekinesis that could apparently only affect metal you would have laughed at them and asked them if you could have some of whatever they were drinking. But you had seen plenty of strange things already, and the rod embedded in the wall behind you was giving you a warning that whatever the nature of his powers were, they were nothing to scoff at. They were dangerous. He was dangerous. The thought made something coil in your gut. But not in fear.

You wanted to smack yourself. Now was not the time for an infatuation.

But looking at him, you just couldn’t seem to help yourself. He was tall, and carried himself with a confidence that must have taken a lifetime to master. He carried a giant metal hammer on his shoulder that you knew weighed at least a ton. And the way he carried it so effortlessly made the coiled heat in your stomach spread out across your body.

Why couldn’t you have just been attracted to normal men? Why couldn’t you have been attracted to traits that wouldn’t have put you in an early grave?

You took your backpack off and shoved it blade down next to your shotgun, zipping the bag shut as far as it would go. If it came to a fight, there was no way a weapon with a metal blade would help you. You almost laughed aloud. If it came to a fight between the two of you, only god himself intervening would help you.

“Who the fuck are you?” You weren’t subtle in the way your eyes roved up and down his body.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Oh. You’re not local? Even better.”

He grinned, and flicked his hand.

The rod that he had thrown came out of the wall and wrapped itself around your neck. Your hands instinctively came up, trying to pry it off. He laughed at your attempts, and another flick of his hand had you being dragged down to the floor neck first before he sent the rest of the scrap metal that had been floating idly to cocoon you.

“Mother Miranda’s gonna love you.”

He laughed, and you cursed at yourself for finding that laugh so attractive as he towered over you. As that last sheet covered your face, you let yourself go, slipping into a deep sleep.

***

Your back hurt. Your wrists hurt. Your head hurt. Everything hurt. But the silver lining on the situation was that you weren’t trapped in a metal cocoon any longer. Instead you were lying on a stone floor, wrists handcuffed together. A discreet tug while you pretended to still be asleep revealed that they were attached to a short chain that was connected to a loop on the floor. Regardless of how strong you were, in your current condition there was no way you could even make an attempt to get yourself free. Even if there weren’t people in the room.

You could hear their voices in the background, and it was a struggle to sort your thoughts so that you could tune into their voices. It had to be about you, and you needed to know what they planned to do with you.

There was no fear, it would only make you panic. Instead there was just determination, a need to survive even if there wasn’t much in your life worth it. Spite maybe? You weren’t going to give anyone the satisfaction of dying alone in a village full of corpses.

“The mortal is of no real use to anyone else. And my daughters do so love. . . entertaining foreigners.”

Red flag. Hearing that in any other scenario would have been a pleasant thing, but given the context of the situation and everything you had been through so far, you were sure that whatever the woman meant by that could not be a good thing. And if those daughters were still alive when the rest of the village had been subjected to either vicious deaths or being slowly and painfully turned into a creature that you were very sure could be considered werewolves.

“Furthermore, I can assure you if you entrust the mortal to House Dimitrescu, my daughters and I shall deliver to you the finest cups of their slaughtered blood.”

Yup, entertaining those daughters was definitely not a good thing.

You pried your eyes open, almost wishing you hadn’t when you saw the creepiest doll in the world standing in front of you. She was about three feet tall and wearing a wedding dress that was admittedly well-crafted. You almost twisted to kick it out of reflex, especially as it started moving like it was alive. A hunchback came in from the side to crowd your personal space, and you gagged against the strong smell of fish. You had smelled actual dead fish that were not as fishy. What did this man do all day?

The doll roughly pushed him out of the way, complaining in a high pitched voice, “Out of the way ugly! I wanna see- oh!”

“You mean-” The man who had captured you started, being interrupted by the doll’s excited dancing and announcement that you had woken as well as the hunchback’s general groaning.

To your left you spied your backpack, just out of reach. “Y-you mean,” he tried again. “Both of you shut the fuck up!”

Well that did it. The doll went to sit in the lap of what could only be her puppeteer, a woman in funeral garb, the only skin exposed being her pale hands. The hunchback shambled off to the side, standing behind the pew where the only human passing man in the entire village sat.

“You mean you’ll screw around with them in private, and where’s the fun in that?”

You looked around, taking note of the woman who had been speaking. Dimitrescu. You could practically feel your nosebleed coming on. She was the tallest woman you had ever seen, and the most beautiful too. Her skin was so pale, her lips a deep red. She looked like a vampire, but given what you had seen so far and her talk of delivering your blood to the other woman in cups was making you think that maybe she didn’t just look like one.

Her name was ringing bells in your head. Dimitrescu. Where had you heard that before?

“Give them to me,“ the man started again, “and I’ll put on a show everyone can enjoy.”

Why me? This was definitely punishment for something.

“So gauche-”

“Hey I know you!” you interjected, addressing the tall woman and interrupting her as the realisation hit you.

They all stopped, turning to face you properly for the first time. Dimitrescu looked you up and down, seemingly regarding you as something beneath her. You quickly came to the conclusion that maybe interrupting her was a mistake, but you didn’t care. There was still no fear, even in the face of a giantess.

“Dimitrescu. That’s the name on that super rare wine in the really pretty bottle. They don’t distribute it anymore.”

She continued to look down at you, which admittedly was easy for her to do given height. “And how would the likes of you have tasted the Sanguinis Virginis?”

“Some rich guy I met at a bar gave it to me in exchange for. . . It doesn’t matter. But. . . it stands for Maiden’s Blood right?” You froze, the dots practically connecting themselves. “Oh my god. I think I’m gonna be sick.”

You leaned over to the side, ready to vomit. You knew there was something wrong with that wine. Your mood was not helped by the shrieking laughter that the doll was emitting at your expense. The man, to his credit, had the decency to wrinkle his nose in disgust at the prospect of blood filled wine. You had drank someones blood. Who had she been? Had they tortured her? Had she died in agony? You didn’t know. You didn’t really want to know.

You looked back up towards the altar. The woman standing at it had looked as familiar as Dimitrescu’s name had sounded. You had seen her portrait in many of the homes. And thinking back, it had definitely been her that had killed that villager when Luiza’s house had burned down. Your heart tugged painfully at the thought of Elena, at how you had come so close to saving her before the floor had collapsed under her and she had told you to escape this village and run.

This woman was Mother Miranda, and somehow she was the cause of all of this. Still no fear, but hatred bubbled up in your heart.

“I’ve heard all of your arguments. Some of you were less persuasive than others, but. . .” She looked at the man, who had now put his hammer on the ground, leaning forward as he waited for her answer, “Heisenberg, the mortal’s fate is in your hands.”

He tipped his hat towards her, grinning.

Dimitrescu got to her feet.

“Mother Miranda I must protest! Heisenberg is but a child, and his devotion to you is questionable.” She started walking towards you. “Give the mortal to me, and I will ensure that they are ready.”

Heisenberg angrily got to his feet, stalking towards her. You had to hand it to him, even with his telekinesis, he must have been fearless to confront Dimitrescu when he was half her size.

He held out his hand as he approached her, summoning the hammer to him. You were beginning to think that something was wrong with you, given that the action had your gut coiling again.

“Shut your damn hole and don’t be a sore loser! Go find your food somewhere else.”

“Quiet now child-”

“Well if it were up to me-” you started.

“It isn’t!” Both of them shouted down at you in unison, though Dimitrescu put significantly more venom into it.

“Well please spare me the family drama when I get enough of that at home.”

Heisenberg actually laughed at that, some of the tension leaving him. Dimitrescu however, looked incensed.

“How dare you! Do you have any idea-”

“If you’re going to ask me if I know who you are, we already established that I did. I just don’t care. And I’m not afraid of a single one of you!”

Heisenberg let out a full belly laugh at that. At which part of the statement he found to be hilarious, you weren’t sure. At least someone had found you funny, and you never wanted that laugh of his to stop. You could listen to it all day.

“SILENCE!” Mother Miranda shouted over them, intervening before someone - probably you - got hurt. “My decision is final, there will be no argument. Remember from whence you came!”

“A megabitch apparently,” you muttered under your breath.

One look at Heisenberg told you that he definitely heard that too. And as he smiled at the statement, you knew in your bones that Dimitrescu was right. His loyalty to Mother Miranda wasn’t just questionable, he hated her. You could feel it. Why though, was anyone’s guess. Though to be fair, she didn’t exactly scream motherly love.

Briefly, you wondered why someone with his abilities didn’t just finish her off and get it over with. But her words, reminding them to remember where they came from. . . she must have been very powerful if she could scold a nine foot tall vampire queen and a cowboy with the powers of Magneto into submission.

Dimitrescu moved back, but Heisenberg moved forward to take up all your attention. Those horrible monsters swarmed in as he did so, clinging to the walls, the scaffolding and leaning over the balconies, snarling and howling as he did so.

“Lycans and Gentleman, we thank you for waiting.”

I fucking knew they were werewolves.

“And now let the games begin!” He leaned down towards you, coming in at eye level. “Lets see what you’re really made of.”

You just smiled at him, deciding to let that beast under your skin that was making heat coil in your gut out to play. “I don’t suppose you’re single.”

His grin dropped off his face, and something like genuine surprise flitted across it. But instead of answering he raised his hammer above his head.

“Oh shit-”

He swung it down, cracking the loop that was keeping you chained to the floor. Lycans were beginning to crowd in. And Heisenberg, he was beginning to countdown from ten. You looked to your left again, spotting the hole in the floor just beyond your bag. You darted towards it, picking up your bag as you did so and turning to the lords one last time. You brought your hands to your face and kissed your palm, blowing it towards Heisenberg. He stuttered in his countdown, just enough to be barely noticeable. You wondered if it was in confusion or if it was because maybe, just maybe, you had flustered him ever so slightly. You vowed that you would make it out alive and find out.

Then you stuck up your two middle fingers, and jumped down the hole.

[starman-john-tracy]

for @asteria-star for her birthdayyyyyyyyyyy <3 <3 <3

“Piss off Scott.” And he would, he really would under the force of that glare, only Star’s teeth are gritted hard enough that it looks like she might crack something, and she’s bent double with her fingers pressed hard against the gross, squelchy patch of red that’s spreading alarmingly quickly over the side of her t-shirt.

So instead of pissing off Scott approaches - looking like he’s trying to keep a snake from biting him; palms up and outward in a show of being unarmed, defenseless.

It doesn't work on her. She could throw Scott Tracy further than she trusts him.

“Keep away from me.” Star warns, low and dangerous, her expression cold. "I’m dealing with it, Tracy, it's none of your concern.” The last thing any of them expected from their trip to NYC was for Star to come back from a groceries errand with what looks like a horrible stab wound instead of the tea, Crocky Crunch cereal and fresh fruit she'd gone for.

She’s pretty sure that she hasn't been followed back here, though. She’d been careful - done several loops around the block, trying to blend into the shadows, to be certain that nothing could be traced back to the Tracy's - because while turning up at the hotel bruised, battered and bleeding wasn't exactly ideal, Star hadn’t really had much of a choice in the matter. She has nowhere else to go, after all. She’d hoped to sneak past both of the Tracy's rooms to her own without alerting them to the situation, but Scott, having chosen exactly the wrong moment to head for the bar downstairs, had scuppered that.

Stupid Scott, she thinks, scowling even as blood continues to seep steadily into the fibres of her shirt. Stupid Scott and his terrible timing.

John's been giving lectures here in NYC and Scott had kindly offered to be their pilot - as, outside of an emergency, neither spacefarer can be cleared to be in control of any vehicle, let alone a plane like the Tracy Two, for 48 hours after touchdown.

“But-” Scott opens his mouth to start to protest, but Star is already strategically shuffling away from him, toward the safety of her hotel room - paid for with Tracy money, she notes, as a sign of trust that she'll keep herself out of trouble or else the GDF will want her back in a cell. 

The only problem with that is that trouble tends to find her.

With blood-slippery fingers, Star swipes the room card shakily through the scanner on her door and shoves her way through it, kicking it shut behind her before Scott can catch up and get his foot in. There’s a hammering of fists on wood on the other side but Star resolutely ignores it, stumbling instead into the small, adjoining bathroom only for her knees to give out and she’s pitched, face first, onto the floor.

Star opens her eyes, hazy and unamused, to find her cheek pressed against cold tile, her fingers curled and bloodied in front of her face. Star bites back a groan, slapping both palms down and heaving herself to more of a sitting position; slouched and awful, before curling around the ragged, awful slash across her waist.

Oh fuck does it hurt.

She’s just peeling up the bloodied mess of her t-shirt when, of course, there’s a soft, quiet rap of knuckles against the bathroom door, and Star almost rolls her eyes because she knows exactly who Scott’s sicced on her.

“You can come in, John.” There’s an edge of what almost might be misery to her tone. This is what she gets for the GDF insisting that if she’s going to be on Earth, their hotel rooms have to be conjoined by the bathroom. So John can keep an eye on her, or the other way round, Star’s not sure at this point.

“What happened?” Tall, ginger and worried asks, ever so gently, already crouching at her side, and Star’s torn between the temptation to burst into tears, or to hit him for making her feel that way. There’s a chunky, green first aid kit in his hand (definitely IR standard, not the hotel’s), so he must have been warned. She watches him languidly, as he sets it down and clicks it open.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She insists, fully aware that it’s not going to be long before she does anyway. John just hums, non-committal and light, pulling a pair of blue plastic gloves on over his fingers with a snap, snap.

“Star.” John’s watching her, quiet and earnest. 

She does her best to crack a weak smile in his direction, but it must fall flat because he looks nothing but soft and serious in return. There’s a creeping fire spreading from her side and wrapping around her ribs, pooling in her lungs and she’s torn between reaching for him, clinging tight and crying and the way her skin itches with the ingrained need to run away.

She stays where she is, frozen and trembling on the cold tiles of a bathroom that's not her own. It’s probably lucky that tile is one of the easier things to clean blood up from.

She would know.

“Hey.” John’s crouching to match her hazy eyeline, fingers hovering close, but not touching. “Think it’d be ok for me to have a look?” He treats her as far more startled bunny in headlights than snake coiled to strike and Star wants to cry; ‘don't you know what I’m capable of! Don’t you know that I could hurt you! Put you and all of your precious brothers in danger just by being near you!’ But she doesn’t, because John’s smart. John already knows all that and he’s here for her anyway.

Her face is an uncomfortably ashy grey and John would rather deal with the horrific amount of blood smeared on her side and fingers and floor before they need to look into transfusion options.

She just nods, stiff and uncomfortable and in pain. Her teeth ache.

“Take your shirt off,” he instructs. If it was anyone else, she’d have made some kind of joke about them having to buy her a drink first, but this is John and he’s about as into that sort of thing as one of the plant’s he’s cultivating up in space would be, so she just sighs and lets him help her peel the sticky, clinging fabric from the wound and up over her head.

Her waist is a weeping wash of red and John pulls a face to show that he’s less than impressed. The long knife wound is clean across and doesn’t look too deep, but it’s raw and juicy with new blood and the skin around it already has a dark wash of purple bruising. John goes a little bit grey-pale at the sight of it - a fresh reminder that they’ve both been on the planet less than 24 hours.

“You ok?” She brings a wobbly hand up to catch on his elbow, just below where he’s rolled his sweater up to his elbows so that she doesn’t get bloody fingerprints on Grandma Tracy’s rough cableknit.

“I’m not the one with the nasty, jagged slice across my stomach.” John points out, dryly, and it’s not like she can deny that. He slides a steadying hand around her back and Star has to resist the urge to hold her breath as he inspects the injury.

She just wants to curl up in bed with a blanket over her head and not exist for a few hours. She wants to go home and that’s an odd feeling to clash with the presence of the careful ginger man who’s rapidly become the definition of the word.

“You didn’t get me strawberries then,” John comments, lightly, as he works. The spaceman’s sweet tooth is practically non-existent until it comes to fruit. She knows his weakness. “This might sting a bit.” He says, though both of them are well aware it’s an understatement.

“Next t-time.” There’s a bit of a wheeze as John swipes a sterile wipe over her stomach, busy cleaning up the wound. She’s got one hand clamped tightly onto his shoulder now, white-knuckled, not quite sure how it had ended up there when she’d been so careful about not getting his sweater bloodied. She hopes he’s not going to have bruises on that pale skin of his in the morning.

She closes her eyes and tips her head back, trying to get better control over her shaky breathing. 

“I’m going to start closing this.” He advises, carefully judging her grimace as he presses the wound closed with his fingers, squelchy and horrible, but ready for him to begin applying steri strips from the first aid kit. It’s a tricky job with her curled over like she is, and when every breath she takes pulls at the skin, so John places a firm but careful hand on her shoulder and pushes her back flat against the tile wall so that he can see what he’s doing.

To his credit, he is, at least, quick about it.

"If I suggest that you should probably get this checked by a hospital,” John adds, gently probing at his fix-up-job of the angry, swollen wound, before he puts a triage bandage over it. “are you gonna try to run for it?"

He'd rather have a second opinion on if this needs more than steri strips to hold it closed, and though he could holo-call Virgil, he'd rather not risk her wrath. She doesn’t dignify the idea with an answer though, instead, angling her cheek away from him and breathing hard through her nose to try and get a handle on the pain.

"I'll compromise," He says, with the tone of a man who knows he'll get what he wants either way, "take some morphine and a full spectrum antibiotic and… uh-ha-ha," he holds up a hand to keep her from interrupting him with protests, "There could have been anything on that, uh… knife?” It looks like a knife wound. “Take both of these and I'll not drag you to A&E by your floppy bangs."

Like he could. Star would almost be amused by the attempted bribery if not for the agony her side is in. Each breath tastes like fire now, and the round circles John presses into her palm are a couple of miniature blessings.

"And I don't have to explain myself to Scott." She's not going to anyway, but it feels like an important thing to add to the bargain before she knocks the drugs back.

"No ones gonna make you talk to Scott." John reaffirms, "but you know he's just worried. He's a big brother, it's what he does best. I imagine he'll have called Virgil to freak out about it though.”

Great. Another worrywart with questions. Just what she needs.

Virgil isn’t so bad though, there’s something calming about the family’s gentle giant, and she’s watched him patch John up more than enough times to trust he knows what he’s doing. Unlike Scott, Virgil’s knows when not to stick his nose into something.

“John…” There’s something else worrying her, nagging at her, something far worse than a stab wound because it could cost her her place aboard Thunderbird Five. “You��re not going to... report this to the GDF, uh, are you?” She’s not supposed to go off on her own, for one, and scrapping with some old familiar faces isn’t going to earn her any gold stars on the behave and we’ll let you stay with John chart.

It was a weird mix of punishment and witness protection and a favor from John’s Aunt Val that put her up there in the first place, and while at first, she’d have done almost anything to be anywhere but, Thunderbird Five… well, John’s grown on her.

“I think the bigger problem will be convincing Scott that it’s none of his business.” John points out lightly, “Dare I ask what happened?” Her face is losing color by the second. It seems important to keep her talking. Can’t be unconscious if you’re talking.

“People don’t like to go down without a fight.’ Star offers him the widest grin she can manage, revealing that one of her front teeth is a little chipped. “Gangs with long-standing grudges especially.”

John shakes his head, slow and disparaging.

“Right. Of course. Think you can stand?” When she nods slowly in confirmation, John gently leavers her upright, waiting patiently the few seconds it takes for her to blink the phosphenes from her vision as the blood drains away from her head. Both her hands find his shoulders again, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“It’s lucky it wasn’t too deep.” John sighs, probably more to himself than anyone. She tilts her head back down to find him looking at the covered patch on her side. “Those bruises do look bad though, it really would be better if someone could check you for internal injury.” He glances at her face from beneath a sweep of golden-ginger lashes, waiting for an answer. When she doesn’t offer him one, he sighs. “I could call Virgil and make him run a scan and-”

“Tomorrow, John.” Her head falls, heavy, onto his shoulder with a bit of a thunk. “I just wanna go to bed.” The last bit comes out as not much more than a whisper.

“Right then, come on.” John slides a supportive arm around her back, careful not to let his fingers brush skin. “Bed it is.”

Star swivels around so she can wrap her arms around his waist and press her face into his shoulder, trying to get as close to the warmth as possible. With John here, she doesn't really want to go back to where she's sleeping. Alone everything seems so… dangerous. The hotel filters in the sounds of the streets, people she doesn’t know in the corridors, threats from every angle. It creeps her out a little, and so she clings to John a little tighter. She starts mumbling again, trying to tell him she'll happily sleep on the floor if it means she doesn't have to be alone.

“Star…? Star.” He sighs, supporting more of her slight weight, shaking his head fondly. “Fine, ok, I’ll stay with you. You’re as bad as Alan, wanting to sleep on the floor. What am I going to do with you?” He laughs, and she feels it verberate through his chest. “Come on, you’re not alone.”

He pulls at her shoulder, half spinning her in an almost dance-like move as he lets her knees crumple and Star finds herself sitting on the plush hotel bed. Very gently, John tugs up the comforter and drapes it over her shoulders, like a blanket-cape.

He vanishes, briefly, to go find her a new, clean t-shirt and a pair of sleep sweats and looks entirely unsurprised when he comes back with one of his own, faded t-shirts in hand, pilfered by her long ago.

"I did wonder where this had gone." He points out, softly amused, as he helps manoeuvre it over her head. "You could at least leave me an IOU so I know what you've… borrowed." It's a kinder word than stolen but John's well aware of the chances of him getting things back once they've made their way into Star’s wardrobe.

Just as well his Father was a billionaire, really. John hardly minds a few things going missing here and there when they're going to a girl who has so very little in the way of her own possessions and no money to her name. He's caught her liberating his bank cards more than once, and it had only prompted a conversation about asking first before he sighs and hands the plastic over.

Privately, John thinks that had she not have wanted to be caught, she wouldn't have been. 

“Sleep.” He advises softly, well away of just how heavy her lids look as he helps her onto her back and makes sure the covers are tucked securely around her. “I’ll be right here, ok?” John waves a book at her, though she has no memory of him picking it up, and the last thing she sees before sleep takes her, is him smiling softly, reaching out to move a lock of stray hair from off her cheek. 

[jenonctcity]

No Nut November - Jaemin

Na Jaemin – Smut, Crack, Fluff

Warnings: Explicit content, a lot of mentions of penis’s, dirty talk, brief spanking, oral (male receiving).

Word Count: 3k

Summary: 00’s line take part in No Nut November.

The Rules of No Nut November:

You cannot have sex, masturbate, or nut in any way, shape, or form.

Watching pornography and having boners are allowed, but you can’t nut.

You are only allowed one wet dream. If you have more than one, then consider yourself out.

You do not have 3 strikes; you only have one shot at it. If you miss it, you’re out.

 If you have passed the month with a total of 0 nuts, you are a victor and you shall qualify for Destroy Dick December (Not Recommended).

Look man, just don’t nut in 30 days. 

Series

 Day 1:

Jaemin had made it very clear to you a week before the month changed to November, that he had every intention of doing no nut November. The week building up to it you had been pinned to whatever surface Jaemin had deemed fit and had been fucked hard. It was the best week of your sexual activity that you’d ever experienced, so you were kind of happy he was going to take part in the strange internet trend. You also knew once the month was over that he would go into a sex crazed state and give you a performance good enough to rival his last show.

However, it wasn’t you that you were worried about not being able to last the entire month. You were certain that Jaemin could not go a whole month without trying to get into your pants. You knew your boyfriend well enough to know that he had a very high sex drive, leading him to asking you for sex nearly every time he saw you. It didn’t help that he was the master of flirting. It made it easy for him to charm your underwear off your body. He had a knack for sending you dirty texts that were filthy enough for your face to heat up in want and slight embarrassment. He once sent you a dick pic that your friend was absolutely mortified to have seen by accident when you opened the text, not having expected him to send pictures of his meat in the middle of the day.

As you stood in your local book store, enjoying the peace and quiet it bestowed upon you, you browsed the fiction section, hoping to find a book about a hopeless romance that ended in heartbreak or a forever love, your phone buzzed in your pocket. It caused you to jump a little but luckily, you’d remembered to put your phone on silent before entering the book shop. You pulled it from your pocket and smiled softly when you saw the contact name said ‘Nana’.

“I miss you :(” his text read, your smile widening at his adorable use of the sad face emoji. You wondered if his text had a hidden meaning or not but decided it probably didn’t because it had only been about half day since he last got his dick wet. You took your time to reply, typing with one thumb as you glanced between your phone and the bookshelf in front of you.

“You saw me about 4 hours ago, I was naked in your bed. Remember?” You replied with a soft giggle, not even surprised when his reply came less than 20 seconds later.

“I remember well! ;) But do you not miss me?” You could almost hear the pout he was more than likely sporting through the words written on your screen. You smirked, trying to suppress a giggle as you replied.

“No.” You quickly followed up with another text. “Just kidding, love you boo.”

“Ouch. My heart bleeds.”

“How are you holding up? Not touched your precious pleasure rod yet have you?” You couldn’t help but ask, curiosity getting the best of you.

“First of all, ew, never call Jaemin Junior a pleasure rod ever again. Secondly, no I haven’t touched it yet! Have some faith in me!”

“Ew since when have you referred to it as Jaemin Junior?”

“Since now, actually I hadn’t even thought about anything sexual until you brought it up you perv!” You sniggered, rolling your eyes and leaving him on read as you went back to scouring the shelf for the book you desired.

 Day 2:

“Hey babe…” Jaemin patted your thigh, trying to gain your attention as you sat beside him in a taxi. You were on the way to a movie theatre and decided a taxi was the best way to avoid the downpour of rain hitting the earth forcefully.

“Yeah?” You tore your line of sight away from staring out of the window to look at him.

“Have you got any nudes on your phone?” He leaned in close, his lips beside your ear as he whispered lowly to make sure the driver didn’t hear him.

“Na Jaemin!” You whisper-shouted at him, not believing the audacity he had to ask you that in the back of a taxi.

“Please baby just give me your phone and I’ll find them myself.” He whined, holding his hand out to your expectantly.

“No!” You slapped his hand away, watching the way his lips turned into an endearing pout.

“Please…I can’t remember what your body looks like…” You shoot him a disapproving glare, shaking your head slowly at him.

“No!”

“Fine!” He turned away, folding his arms over his chest and pretending to throw a tantrum. He didn’t ask again but later on you did send him a cheeky booty pic, much to his excitement.

 Day 5:

The hot rivets of water hit your skin and ran down the contorts of your body, leaving a warm sensation flooding through your system. The water had no competition against Jaemin’s soft lips peppering open mouthed kisses across the back of your neck. The plush pillows sending cool shivers down your spin, a complete contrast to how hot your body felt.

“I want you so bad baby girl.” He murmured, his words almost getting lost amongst the noise of the water hitting all the surfaces of the shower. You hummed in acknowledgment, his hands wrapping around your from behind, fingers teasing you on their ascent to your breasts. “Let me make you feel good.” His big hands cupped your soft boobs, thumbs and forefingers each pinching your hardened nipples. A bolt of pleasure shot through you, it rippling down your body from your chest to your neglected clit. You became putty in his hands, him pulling your flat against his chest and gyrating his hips into yours enough for you to feel the prominent erection he’d formed.

A sudden reminder popped into your head. A reminder that Jaemin was supposed to be participating in no nut November. You rolled your eyes, pulling away from his grasp – although somewhat reluctantly, and turning to face him.

“I knew you’d try to fuck me before the end of the month.” You smirked at him, moving your hands up to cup his cheeks and pecking the gobsmacked look off of his lips with your own. He struggled to form words, his mouth opening and closing as he stared down at your smug face. “You’re weak Na Jaemin.” You whispered, leaning in and taking his lips between your own in a lingering, steaming kiss, the water running over your heads as you got in the line of the water streaming from the shower head. His arms looped around your torso, pulling you against him and holding your naked bodies together.

“I’m not weak.” He whispered into the kiss, his tongue poking out and trailing over the lining of your lips before working its way into your mouth. He flicked his tongue against your own, rolling his hips into yours and moving his hands down to squeeze your ass. He moved his lips down your face, to your jaw and nipping at your wet skin.

“You’re still trying to-” Your words were cut off by a moan slipping from your parted lips, his perfect mouth sucking right on the spot he knew would make your knees shake.

“Let me treat you.” He spun you around, forcing you up against the wall of the shower, bent slightly and presenting your ass out to him. You bit your bottom lip, spreading your legs apart enough to give him access to your dripping heat. He trailed his fingertips down your spine, the slight tickle causing shudders to shoot across your nerves. He ran the palm of his hand over the curve of your ass cheeks, removing it only to bring it down on your skin with a slap. You gasped in surprise, relaxing as he spanked you once more before jamming a finger inside your slick hole. “So wet for me baby girl, do you like it when I spank you?” He used his free hand to bring it down on your ass once more before leaning that hand on the shower wall and putting all his weight on it, his body hovering over yours.

“Yeah…oh god.” You moaned, rutting your hips back into his hand. He slowly withdrew his finger, circling your sodden hole with the tip of his finger before ramming it back inside of you, pumping it slowly to loosen you up. He added another finger, his lips attaching themselves onto your shoulder. He smirked when you whined against the cold shower wall, the warm water cascading down onto your body, but it was the warmth you felt from Jaemin that was making you overwhelmed.

“You want me to fuck you with my fingers harder?” He bit at the skin of your shoulder, maintaining the slow pace with his fingers. “Answer me.” He growled, stopping his fingers altogether at your silence.

“Yeah! Fuck me hard!” You whimpered at the loss of stimulation, wiggling your hips as an incentive for him to continue.

“As you please princess.” He smirked, thrusting his digits back into you hard and fast. The hand he was using to hold himself up on the wall moving to cup your breast in his hand. His fingers working over your sensitive nipple causing your eyes to roll into the back of your head.

“Jaemin!” You squeaked, your head lolling back onto his shoulder as the knot tightened in your stomach. “Right there don’t stop!” A gasp ripped from your chest, his teeth biting into your shoulder enough to leave teeth marks behind as the white-hot feeling rushed through your body, your climax hitting suddenly. Your chest rose and fell as you tried to catch your breath, your legs shaking and hips stuttering as he stopped his ministrations on your core.

“That’s my girl.” He gently kissed the bruise he’d made on your shoulder, withdrawing his fingers from you and opting to enclose his mouth around his dripping digits. He sucked them clean, dropping his eye into a wink and turning his back to you to wash his hair, his hard on being left unattended to, much to your surprise.

 Day 7:

So far, so good. To your knowledge, Jaemin had managed to not touch his penis in any sexual way at all, which again, had shocked you. You’d assumed he wouldn’t make even 3 days, so him having lasted a week actually impressed you. Despite many close calls, Jaemin had reigned in the hormones and want for you, simply keeping it in his pants, or by pulling away during your steamy session in the shower days prior. About an hour ago, Jaemin had fallen asleep on your bed, even though you’d both planned on walking down the local convenience store to buy snacks for the evening. Not wanting to disturb him because his sleeping face made your heart warm, you’d decided to go on your own and leave him to nap. Choosing not to rush, you’d taken your time in getting the snacks, and stealthily entered your apartment silently in case Jaemin was still sleeping. You’d dumped the snacks on the kitchen counter, and slowly creeped towards your bedroom. You raised an eyebrow in confusion when you heard weird noises emitting from the room. You held your ear to the door, listening as realization dawned on you, causing you to gasp loudly.

“Na Jaemin!” You burst into the room, pointing at him accusingly. “You’re watching porn!!!” He looked like a deer caught in the headlights, his eyes wide and arms folded across his chest. You paused, about to accuse him of losing no nut November when you noticed he wasn’t touching himself inappropriately. “You’re…erm…are you watching porn for the plot?” You glanced at the television opposite your bed, the scandalous video of a girl having a cock shoved down her throat greeting your eyes.

“Kinda…” He shrugged, grabbing the remote and shutting off the power.

“You’re so strange…” You both looked at each other, waiting for the other to make the first move.

“I was bored, and I missed it!” He defended himself, watching your every move as you slinked closer to the bed, a seductive look gleaming in your eye. You’d had enough of this stupid no nut November thing, deciding once and for all the test his resolve. “What are you doing…?” He asked suspiciously when you clambered onto the bed, throwing your leg over his own and sitting just above his knees on his outstretched legs.

“Oh nothing…” You bit your bottom lip alluringly, his eyes watching your hands as they slowly peeled down his jogging bottoms. “Lift your hips like a good boy yeah?” You winked, his hips lifting automatically to your order. You pulled his joggers down, his boxers coming down with them. His hard cock sprang up to his t-shirt, your eyes zoning in on it like a predator hunting its prey. You pushed his t-shirt up, exposing his defined abs and smirking as a bead of pre-cum oozed from the tip onto his stomach.

“Hey…don’t touch that penis missy.” He spoke with a dominating tone, you giggled, raising an eyebrow challengingly at him.

“Or what?”

“Or I lose no nut November!” He gulped, sighing and leaning his head back onto the soft pillow of your bed. “Fine. Touch it.”

“Yay!” You gripped his cock at the base, pulling it so it stood upright. Your touch took his breath away, a week proving to be too long for the absence of having his dick touched in a sexual manner. This is what he’d been craving since the he’d decided to take on this stupid challenge, and he knew he couldn’t last out long. You held eye contact with him, leaning down to rest the head of his cock on your bottom lip. “Tell me what you want.” He wasn’t used to this amount of dominance from you, it causing a firework of pleasure to burst inside his stomach.

“Suck my cock baby girl, make me cum.” You poked your tongue out, kitten licking another drop of pre-cum that spilled. The bitter taste didn’t bother you, and you actually enjoyed giving your boyfriend blowjobs, knowing a lot of your friends had different opinions on giving head. “Hurry.” His own dominance shone through, challenging your own and giving you the sensation of needing to comply to him. You fluttered your eyelashes at him, taking the head of his cock between your lips and sucking gently. “Oh fuck.” He wanted to bend his knees, but you were caging them underneath your body, restricting his movement. His fingers found their way into your hair, gripping at it gently. Without any warning, you took all of his hard length into your mouth, sucking harshly and bobbing your head up and down in perfect rhythm. Puffs of air left his parted lips as he tried to cope with the pleasure coursing through his cock, his toes curling in response.

You pulled off to wipe at your mouth, spit forming in the corners of your lips. You leaned forward, placing soft kisses on his abs and slowly trailing them back down to his red, leaking cock awaiting the presence of your warm mouth. You take him back in your mouth, making sure to stare into his soul as your drag your lips down his shaft and back up against tauntingly, letting your lips leave the tip with a pop. You use your hand to pump him fast, biting your bottom lip as his stomach starts to flex. He whimpered, squirming on the bed before letting out a loud grunt, his grip on your hair tugging harshly as he came. You’d opened your mouth in perfect time, white ribbons coating your tongue and lips.

“Fuck you look hot covered in my cum.” He panted, watching as you closed your mouth and made a point to lick your lips provocatively in front of him. “You’re a dirty girl.” He spoke lowly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he caught his breath. You let go of his cock, letting it flop to the side without cause. “Also, fuck you! I was doing great at no nut November and you just had to ruin it didn’t you!” After the bliss of his orgasm wore off, he sat up, pushing you onto your back against the bed. You squeaked in surprise, suddenly the ceiling being all you could see until Jaemin came into your view, his body hovering over your own.

“Punish me then.” Winking at him to rile him up, you trailed a hand over your own body, squeezing your boob over your clothes and grinning cheekily at him. “Do your worst.”

“You’re in for a long night baby girl.” He smirked his famous smirk at you, immediately diving in to suck at the crook of you neck. 

No Nut November: Na Jaemin - Fail.

(A/N: Hello! Thank you so much to everyone whose liked/reblogged/commented and messaged me about this series. It’s been a wild ride and I’m overwhelmed from the love its gotten! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it, please let me know what you thought of the series as a whole and whether you’d like me to do Destroy Dick December!)

[artificialqueens]

Me and You Together, 5/10 (Taywhora) - Ortega

fic summary: The cardinal rule of having flatmates is that you Do Not Catch Feelings For Your Flatmates, because everything inevitably goes to shit and gets made horrifically awkward. A’whora and Tayce both know this, but being in first year of uni and making good decisions have never really gone hand in hand.

a/n: I’M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! i won’t bore u with a big long a/n but i will say thank u so so much for everyone that’s shown this fic love and been supportive to me over the writing process of this chapter, it means the world. this one has a content warning for…drumroll please…smut! enjoy u slaaaags xo

last chapter: October- The gang made plans for their first year together, Tia gave everyone plans for the evening, and A'whora had a realisation that would change the dynamic of her friendship with Tayce forever.

this chapter: February- Tayce has always hated Valentine’s day. But will hatching a plan with Lawrence and spending the day with A’whora change her opinion on it this year?

***

Tayce thinks it’s nothing short of a miracle that they’ve not been caught yet.

Honestly, she should’ve known how her and A’whora attempting to sneak around would go from the start; it’s not as if either of them are subtle people. Between A’whora always needing people’s eyes and attention to be on her and Tayce simply being unable not to attract attention, it’s hard for either of them to be covert in any way, shape or form.

The first time (or first three times in quick succession) back last month had been easy enough; by the time Bimini, Lawrence and Ellie had returned back to the flat from their day drinking expedition with Ellie’s friend they’d all been too drunk to see their hands in front of their faces, never mind notice that Tayce’s room smelt of sex and that A’whora’s top was on back to front. But living with four other people and trying to find a time where they’re all out of the flat at the same time is like gold dust, so a lot of the time Tayce and A’whora will disappear to one of their rooms (ten minutes apart, so as not to attract suspicion) and then have to spend the entire rendezvous talking in hushed whispers or biting down hard on their lips or whining into their pillows to make sure nobody boots down the door and demands to know what’s going on.

Still, even if it’s quiet and covert, Tayce is nothing short of addicted to this new layer of the relationship she has with A’whora. There’s something intoxicating about giving A’whora what she wants: it’s in the way her big, pleading doe-eyes flutter shut in ecstasy, the way her lips drop open from a bratty pout into a blissful gasp or a too-loud moan that makes Tayce feel like clamping a hand over her mouth. It’s surely only a matter of time before the others find out and ruin this whole thing for them so Tayce wants to make sure A’whora doesn’t blow their cover, because there’s part of her that loves keeping it all under wraps like it’s their own little secret they share.

Besides, the sight of A’whora biting down hard on her knuckles when she’s trying desperately not to make a sound is never one that Tayce is going to pass up on.

It’s the way she goes quiet when things get intense and Tayce has to draw her words out of her like she does her orgasm, because aside from the fact that she needs to know if A’whora’s enjoying everything Tayce is doing, the way she starts blushing whenever she tells her what she wants or how good something feels is sinful enough to make Tayce believe that maybe hell wouldn’t be so bad.

The juxtaposition of the devilishness A’whora manages to radiate whilst looking like and talking with the voice of an angel isn’t lost on Tayce. The way she’s so eager to please, the way she always asks if everything’s okay, the way she’ll look up from between Tayce’s legs with that ever-so-slightly deer in the headlights look with her juice smeared across her lips like gloss and wait for Tayce to tell her everything feels amazing before she’ll relax, and a mischievous grin will take hold on her face before she’ll continue pushing her increasingly closer to the edge. Tayce had always thought praise kinks were a myth but A’whora is the living Kelpie that disproves her theory. She only ever needs to tell her that she’s a good girl, or that she’s pretty, or that she’s perfect (usually with a princess tacked onto it for good measure) for A’whora to whimper and beg, greedy and impatient. The way she reacts to the praise is enough to make Tayce want to keep giving it, so she supposes the relationship is a symbiotic one.

It’s funny the way they seem to swap personalities in bed. Tayce- who usually can’t shut up or slow down if her life depended on it- likes hushed giggles, breathy gasps, biting hard on her lip to make sure she’s not too loud. She likes to draw out the foreplay and teasing until they’re both burning up and so wet they drip down their thighs and onto the sheets, and when she fucks A’whora she’s always painstaking and precise, slow and languid. A’whora, for her part, is the opposite. She moans and whines and bucks her hips in the air, always desperate for satisfaction and to satisfy Tayce in return. She knows exactly how to push Tayce to the edge and then over it and she never wastes a minute getting there, sometimes ripping two or three orgasms from her in quick succession with nothing short of relentless, smug determination. They shouldn’t work together but Jesus Christ, they do.

It’s because of all this that the way they sneak around has become a kind of foreplay for them. The trips to the smoking area on nights out just so Tayce can back A’whora against the wall and crash her lips against hers needily. The squeeze they’ll give each others’ thighs under the table if they’ve all gone somewhere for dinner together, and the twinkle in both of their eyes acting as a promise of things to come later. The text A’whora gives Tayce from the sofa opposite as they’re all sitting around watching whatever shite Tia has stuck on that simply says “i want to 👅 your 🐈 until you 💦” which makes Tayce almost choke on whatever she happens to be eating or drinking.

But she supposes the rest of her flatmates have been too wrapped up in their own feelings to even notice her and A’whora’s lack of subtlety. The end of January saw Tia finally make things official with Veronica who she’d been seeing for a few months already, so she’s been bouncing around the flat with a spring in her step and a permanent smile on her face and always humming or singing a cheerful tune under her breath. Tayce is happy for the girl, she really is, but even she has to admit the pair of them acting like little loved-up Sylvanian Family squirrels is vaguely nauseating; the way they’ll nuzzle each others’ noses while curled up together on the sofa and the way they happily belt along to Heathers while they make pancakes together at eight in the morning on a Sunday, which is never the hangover cure they seem to think it is.

In stark contrast, Ellie has been stomping through the flat for the past few weeks or so as if she’s an assassin with a bounty on Cupid. At literally any mention of love or romance she’s there with a fake retch or a huge roll of her blue eyes, talking about how she wishes every couple on earth would drop off the face of it. She has stark disregard for Tia’s happiness, preferring instead to wallow in her own misery. It’s immature and it’s petty and it’s completely ridiculous but Tayce supposes Ellie is hurt and heartbroken, and Tia and Veronica are getting the brunt of it because they’re the root cause.

If Ellie is bad then Lawrence is worse. If Ellie is pissed off then Lawrence is woeful, and she’s not much better whenever she’s forced to be around the flat’s new couple. Her usually cheerful jokes poking fun at her various flatmates are now entirely based around how single she is, all delivered as if Eeyore had a stand-up set. There’s only so many times Tayce can fake-laugh at each variation, only so much enthusiasm she can inject into the laugh she gives in response to “I’m so single I canny even get a bus to hit on me”. Combined with the constant way Crazy for You is getting blasted from behind her closed bedroom door on a loop, Lawrence has been acting like the lesbian reincarnation of Bridget Jones for entirely too long to be considered acceptable.

“Why don’t we just tell Els that Lawrence likes her?” A’whora had suggested, as they’d lain in Tayce’s bed naked apart from her duvet that was wrapped around them both and the opening drum beat to Crazy for You had cut through the wall for the third time in the past ten minutes.

(Tayce knows Lawrence had asked her not to tell A’whora about her crush on Ellie. She does feel bad for telling A’whora about her crush on Ellie. But when A’whora had asked her why she thought Lawrence had been behaving like a war-era mourning widow for the past few weeks it had just slipped out. Besides, the threat of a month without sex that Tayce had used as leverage so A’whora wouldn’t blab to Ellie about it has so far seemed to be good enough motivation. As it stands neither of them seem to be able to go three days without a shag, so she’s really hoping A’whora doesn’t open her big mouth for both their sakes.)

“It’s not that simple,” Tayce had muttered, threading some of A’whora’s long, straight hair through her fingers absent-mindedly as she spoke. “There’s feelings there, they wouldn’t be able to just fall together like we did. It’s messier when there’s crushes involved. With us it’s just good sex with a good friend, you know?”

A’whora had gone quiet as she nodded, a minute frown appearing on her face. Tayce supposes it had been as a result of the prospect of more Madonna ballads from Lawrence’s room for the foreseeable future.

Bimini, who Tayce has been the most concerned about picking up on something being different between her and A’whora, has been surprisingly and uncharacteristically imperceptive. Bimini being Bimini hasn’t let on that there’s anything different going on with them, but Tayce is sure it’s got something to do with the bashful smile they give their phone screen sometimes, or the way they seem to be at the flat with them all less and less of late, or the uni project they’re completing with their friend Asttina which seems to have been going on for about a fortnight. Whatever it is, they seem happier than usual; a little cheerful glow lighting them up from the inside out that Tayce just knows there’s a reason behind. She’ll let them tell her in their own time.

If the atmosphere in the flat had been full of mixed-up, chaotic sets of feelings before, then when it reaches Valentine’s Day it’s on another level entirely.

Tayce begins her day waking up, rubbing her eyes, and stretching as far as her bones and muscles will allow. She’s alone in bed- she and A’whora never sleep over in each others’ rooms, the overwhelming amount of suspicion it would draw the next day would be staggering- but Tayce sometimes wonders what it would be like to wake up with A’whora. Maybe she’d be curled around her, having sought her out in the night to cuddle. Maybe she talks in her sleep. Maybe she snores. Tayce doesn’t know why she’s thinking about this, or indeed why she wants to know what it would be like.

They’re just friends, after all.

She sleepily snatches up her phone from her bedside table, checks the time (10am, a decent enough lie in) and then checks her notifications. She’s got a Whatsapp message from A’whora and she ends up spluttering a laugh as she opens it. It’s a photo of her having clearly just woken up, hair all messy in its bun and bags under her brown eyes. She’s sinking into the pillow and pulling a face that gives her a double chin. She looks a state, but something about the photo makes Tayce’s heart happy. It’s the fact that A’whora- the same A’whora who took a month before she let her flatmates see her without makeup, does a full face before even going to Tesco, and fake tans twice a week- has sent her a selfie with a sleepy, bare, ridiculous face. Tayce has always felt a little like their friendship has been a series of breaking down A’whora’s walls and with this, another one has crumbled. It’s nice that she trusts Tayce enough with every little part of her, and it’s a responsibility that Tayce doesn’t take lightly.

The message that accompanies the photo says “Happy valentine’s day bestie xxx” and Tayce feels her heart flutter a bit. It should feel weird that A’whora’s acknowledging the significance of the day. It’s kind of overstepping the line they’ve drawn together, it’s sort of breaking an unspoken promise.

But regardless, Tayce doesn’t mind. She actually likes it, more than she probably should. So she taps her nails against the screen, smiling in spite of herself as her message starts to appear.

T: that selfie’s really doing it for me uno

T: got me all excited for the romantic valentine’s day sex we’re gonna be having xo

The screen tells her that A’whora’s typing, and she can feel the heat begin to pool in her stomach already at the prospect of some flirty texts to start the day off. That is until there’s a muffled drum beat and an oboe that drifts into Tayce’s consciousness through the wall, and she realises with visceral frustration that Lawrence is playing that god damn bloody fucking song again.

Tayce lifts her leg and kicks the wall that separates her room and Lawrence’s with a thud thud thud, hoping it’ll make it all stop- the soundtrack to her friend’s emotional pining doesn’t double up as a good soundtrack to dirty texting. To Tayce’s exasperation, however, her door flies open a few moments later, and she cranes her neck and buries her phone under her pillow to find that Lawrence has invited herself in.

“Did you knock?” she asks inquisitively. Tayce narrows her eyes.

“If ‘knocked’ means ‘banged on the wall to shut you up’, then yeah, I did,” Tayce deadpans. Lawrence doesn’t seem to take the hint and instead lets out a dramatic sign, flops down beside Tayce on her bed as if to fully illustrate the fact she isn’t leaving anytime soon.

“Tayyyce,” she begins, whining pitifully. Lawrence is never one to conceal how she’s feeling and always wears her heart on her sleeve, which Tayce can appreciate in a friend. If Lawrence is annoyed, she’ll tell you. If Lawrence is happy, she’ll show it. If Lawrence is pining after her best friend she’s been in love with for years, she’ll let everyone know…apart from the only girl it affects directly.

“What is it, babe?” Tayce asks sympathetically, rolling onto her side to give her friend a cuddle. She knows what the matter is, but she also knows Lawrence clearly wants to vent, so she’ll be a good friend and let her.

Lawrence huffs a sigh. “Tia’s all loved up with Veronica in the kitchen and Bimini’s probably off shagging their pal right now and Ellie’s never going to know I exist as anything other than a friend. I fuckin’ hate Valentine’s Day.”

Tayce would normally agree. Tayce usually hates it too. It’s corporate and cheap and tokenistic, as if the only ways people can show love are through red roses, chocolate or teddies. Pick one or all three, give them to the person you love the most otherwise did you ever really love them at all? Maybe she’d like it better if she had someone to spend it with, but she’s not. She’s never.

Apart from today, that is. Apart from A’whora.

“It’s bullshit,” Tayce nods, squeezing Lawrence’s side. “But hey, you’re not on your own, girl. I’ve not got anyone to spend it with either, and neither’s A’whora.”

Lawrence sticks her bottom lip out. “Yeah, but you two aren’t all sad with feelings and crushes. I mean, we all know A’whora’s not got a heart so she’s off to a flyer already.”

Tayce laughs at Lawrence’s joke even though they both know it couldn’t be less true if she tried. She pokes Lawrence’s arm, frowning and unable to stand her moping much longer. “Well, why don’t you try and make a move today? Y’know, show Ellie why you’re a good option as well.”

“A good option? Sorry, I didn’t realise I’m sat in a fridge next to a sandwich as part of a Tesco meal deal,” Lawrence rolls her eyes. Tayce nudges her with her foot to make a point.

“Fuck off. You know what I mean! Hang out with her, do something fun. Maybe dial up the flirting a bit.”

Lawrence rolls over onto her side to face her, as if to drive home the pointed stare she’s fixing her with. “Have you ever seen me trying to flirt? There’s a reason I’ve never brought a girl back here. I mean my vagina’s so out of use I think it’s closed up like a pierced ear nobody’s put an earring through in a while.”

Tayce lets out a screech, part-horrified, part-disgusted. Her stomach hurts as she tries to collect herself, and an idea forms in her mind. “You could so do it if you tried. Hey, here’s what to do, right? Tia and Veronica are going out for that big romantic beach walk Tia’s been talking our ears off about for weeks. Bimini’s missing in action, as you said, and probably will be for most of the day. And I’ll get A’whora out of the flat for a while. So that means you’ve got Ellie all to yourself, on Valentine’s day, ready to be…I don’t know, wined, dined and sixty-nined.”

It’s Lawrence’s turn to howl in disgust now, but the sparkle’s back in her eyes as she grins at Tayce. “I don’t think we’re at that stage yet, doll. But I don’t know, maybe you’re right. I mean she’s never gonna see me as anything more than a friend if I keep acting like only that, is she?”

Tayce smiles, glad to see she’s instilled some confidence in her friend. “That’s my girl!”

Lawrence claps her hands together decisively. “There we go, then. I’ll have her drippin’ like a knackered fridge in no time!”

The pair of them burst out into untethered shrieks of laughter, ones that draw footsteps from the hall and cause Tayce’s door to open again, this time to reveal both Ellie and A’whora. It looks as if the pair of them were together too, and Tayce thinks it wouldn’t be unusual if Ellie had been venting to A’whora about her own unrequited crush.

“What the hell is so funny? I’m trying to do a big emotional, dramatic monologue about my broken heart to this one but I can’t, because all we can hear is your monkey screeching through the wall,” Ellie grumps, sitting herself down at the foot of the bed.

“We were shagging. That’s just the noise I make when I come,” Lawrence deadpans. As Ellie and A’whora splutter a laugh, Tayce fixes Lawrence with an incredulous stare, one which she hopes communicates “if that was you flirting then what the fuck?”.

“G’wan, Els. Do your big monologue here,” Tayce encourages her, budging up as A’whora squashes onto the bed too even though there’s barely room for two at the best of times, never mind four. A’whora groans long-sufferingly.

“Please don’t make me sit through it again.”

Ellie turns to her friend, affronted. “Girl!”

“I’m joking, babe.”

Appeased, Ellie lets out a plaintive little sigh as she casts her gaze up to the ceiling. “I’m just fucked off. I mean I get that Tia’s happy, and I’m happy for her-”

“No you’re not,” Lawrence cuts in matter-of-factly.

“No I’m not, but that’s beside the point,” Ellie rolls with the interruption, making Tayce snort with her honesty. “I just wish they weren’t…rubbing it in my face all the time, you know?”

“They can’t rub it in your face if they don’t know you like Tia, Ellie. You can’t get annoyed at them for existing,” A’whora pulls a face, honest to a fault. It’s something else that Tayce really appreciates about her; she knows she’ll never get bullshitted by A’whora, knows she’s truthful and upfront. It’s just another part of what makes their arrangement work so well- she knows A’whora’s not exactly going to be covering up any feelings anytime soon.

Ellie continues with a huff. “I know. And I know I’m being unfair, and I know I’m being immature about it all.”

“Give yourself some credit, girl, you only just turned eighteen about five minutes ago. You’re allowed to be immature,” Tayce quips, earning a laugh from A’whora and Lawrence and a scowl from Ellie that she knows she doesn’t really mean.

“It just sucks not being able to turn my feelings off. I want to get over her, you know? It’s just hard when we live together and Veronica’s round all the time.”

There’s a lull in conversation where the girls hum in agreement and empathy. Tayce chooses this time to sneakily elbow Lawrence in her side, as if to nudge her towards spending time with Ellie.

Lawrence takes the hint. “Ellie, what’re you doing today, hen?”

Ellie looks despondently at her. “Probs greetin’ into a pint of Haagen Dazs. How?”

“Well, I’m wanting to dye my hair,” Lawrence says, and the niche context for spending time together knocks Tayce for six a little. “And although I wouldn’t trust you to keep a succulent alive, I’d trust you to do a not awful job of hairdresser duties. You wanty help me out with it?”

Tayce tries not to look at A’whora because she knows they’ll end up sharing a knowing smile that’s entirely too suspicious as Ellie’s face lights up. “If anything would cheer me up right now it’s the prospect of fucking up your hair beyond all recognition.”

“Brilliant,” Lawrence deadpans, though there’s a little smile on her lips which suggests to Tayce that Ellie could very well completely shave her completely bald then dye her scalp yellow and Lawrence would still thank her.

Tayce turns to smile at A’whora. Time to hold up her end of the deal.

“Well, I don’t much fancy staying to deal with the fallout of this inevitable disaster. You wanna go for brunch somewhere?”

A’whora’s so clearly trying to bite back her smile, make it seem more contained and controlled, but it still spreads across her face like a sunbeam and it warms Tayce’s heart like one too. “Alright. S’pose I could squeeze you into the calendar somewhere.”

As the pair of them lock eyes and Tayce struggles to suppress her own smile, the girls are interrupted by a knock on the door. Tayce shouts them in, figuring they might as well squeeze a few more people onto the bed while they’re at it and attempt some sort of world record, but it’s Tia and Veronica and they aren’t staying long judging by the fact they’ve both got their jackets on.

“Just saying goodbye before our lil’ seaside adventure!” Tia smiles, her happiness completely uncontained and radiating from her; if A’whora’s smile was a sunbeam then Tia encapsulates the energy of the whole burning star. Tayce is happy for her.

“Have fun girlies, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Tayce smiles, waggling her fingers in a wave.

“Aye, no sex on the beach!” Lawrence says, unsubtle and untactful as ever. Veronica flushes so red she borders on purple, and Ellie gives a laugh dripping in schadenfreude.

“Wind your bloody neck in, you menace,” Veronica bites back good-humouredly, the dregs of her embarrassment still colouring her cheeks. “Have you seen the weather forecast for today? It’s absolutely freezing!”

“That the only thing stopping you? Sure you wouldn’t be the only people in existence that’ve tried to shag wearing two jumpers and a parka,” Lawrence continues to joke, and by now Ellie is a collapsed heap on the bed.

Tia speaks for her girlfriend who’s still blushing fire-engine red. “Well usually, Lawrence, you wear sexy underwear for your girlfriend on Valentine’s day. Not that you’d know.”

A’whora and Ellie let out a little whoop of shock in response to the shady comment, which neither Lawrence nor Tayce join in with. Tayce deigns to give it a little smirk, but knowing how Lawrence has been feeling for the past few weeks kind of removes the humour of the comment for her.

“Here, watch it. Only I’m allowed to make jokes about how single I am,” Lawrence herself narrows her eyes in response, before smiling tightly at the loved-up pair. “Anyway, have a lovely time, you two!”

“We will!” Veronica practically squeaks in delight, flicking some of her blonde hair over her shoulders as she loops her arm through Tia’s and they leave the flat, the front door clicking behind them. There’s a silence in Tayce’s room before Lawrence speaks again.

“Smug wee gits.”

The rest of the girls dissolve into giggles, Tayce whacking Lawrence on the arm. “Shut up, bitter Betty. Go make your bad hair choices.”

“Right, let’s go!” Ellie claps excitedly before reaching out for Lawrence’s hand. She of course accepts gladly, a hint of pink blush to her cheeks as she’s dragged out of the room by her enthusiastic friend.

The moment Tayce’s door shuts A’whora shimmies up next to her side, a little twinkle in her eye that Tayce knows all too well.

“Hey you,” she smiles, throwing an arm and a leg over Tayce in a full-body hug. Tayce laughs at her clinginess, how she remembers A’whora describing herself as “not much of a huggy person” when they first met in freshers’ week and now she’s the human embodiment of a baby koala.

“Stop flirting, God,” Tayce shoots back playfully, watching the affronted expression take hold on A’whora’s face for only a second before pulling her in for a kiss that A’whora instantly turns up the heat of. Her lips are soft but her kiss is full of a hunger that makes something inside Tayce tighten up, and there’s something about the way A’whora clearly wants her that leaves her feeling ever-so-slightly breathless.

“Right, that’s enough of that,” Tayce jokes as she pulls away, and A’whora’s plaintive pout is almost motivation enough to keep going. But Tayce has made a promise to Lawrence, so she doubles down. “C’mon, get ready. And wear something classy as well, we ain’t going to some scaff caff we could spend any old hungover morning in.”

“Wait, were you serious about brunch?” A’whora’s expression changes, her smile becoming almost shy. It’s ever-so-slightly adorable and completely endearing.

“Yeah, girl! I said to Lawrence I’d take you out so that her and Ellie can have some alone time. Get your shit sorted,” Tayce explains.

There’s shutters that go down behind A’whora’s eyes suddenly, and Tayce narrows her eyes, confused. “Unless you’re not keen?”

“No, of course I’m keen!” A’whora brightens up a little, smiles at Tayce mischievously. “If you’re taking me out, though, you’re paying.”

Tayce blurts out a laugh. “Fuck off! Fine, I’ll pay today. Just means you have to pay next time.”

“Oh there’s a next time, is there?”

A’whora’s batting her lashes at her flirtatiously, but her words have made Tayce’s heart do a little somersault. She supposes what they’re doing is a little bit like a date, and that’s not what their relationship is. They used to hang out like that, though, used to do things just the pair of them like go to the library and pretend to do work, go for lunch at Nandos, watch films together curled up in bed. In a way, Tayce supposes nothing has changed. It would be weird to not hang out just the two of them just because they’ve started hooking up.

So Tayce just returns the smile, casual and chill because that’s what they’ve agreed to be. “I gotta get paid back somehow, don’t I?”

“Could pay you back in other ways,” A’whora winks, and Tayce splutters in a giggle.

“Shut your whore mouth or we’ll never bloody leave the flat.”

They get ready after that, anticipative energy radiating through the wall of A’whora’s room. Tayce feels almost a little nervous. She doesn’t know why. It’s just a brunch, and it’s just A’whora. If she thinks about it, though, A’whora’s never been just A’whora. Tayce has always found an element of joy in spending time with her that she hasn’t ever felt with the others. The spark that goes off in her heart whenever A’whora laughs at one of her jokes, the comfort she takes in just being in the same room as her. The way Tayce has always looked forward to the time they get to spend alone together and the way that, since they started whatever the hell this is, that feeling has only intensified.

It feels more intense now than it ever has before, though. Maybe because it’s a little bit like a date. Maybe because it’s exactly like a date. Maybe because Tayce shouldn’t be this happy about that fact. Maybe the way she used to fancy A’whora- the way she used to just want to kiss her and get her in her bed- has evolved since they started this whole friends-with-benefits situation.

She takes a little deep breath, frowning at herself as she does her lipstick in the mirror.

“Pull yourself together, girl,” she mutters under her breath; because really, what the hell kind of levels of freaked out would A’whora be if Tayce were to show or to tell her any of this? They’re just friends. Friends that hook up. Nothing more than that, and Tayce can’t let herself hope that hard either.

A’whora knocks on Tayce’s door just as she’s securing two gold hoops into her ears. She’s taken the wear something classy brief as seriously as Tayce knew she would, and she’s dressed in a short, black leather skirt and a black and white tailored shirt; one colour on each side, separated by buttons down the middle. Every little detail and accessory has been as thought out as an outfit from a fashion student could be: a pearl choker around her neck and a pearl headband through her intricately curled hair, simple silver earrings and a pink faux fur coat and the black Michael Kors bag that Tayce knows has been her pride and joy since she got it for Christmas. Her legs are bare and she’s wearing high black stilettos which make her legs look entirely too good, and in turn fill Tayce’s head with memories that she needs to push out of her head or else the outfit A’whora’s spent so long putting together is going to end up on the floor.

“Love this,” Tayce points at her approvingly, and A’whora’s smile is a little bashful as she gives a twirl. “You look stunning. I mean, you’ll be freezing. But you’ll be stunning and freezing.”

“Just means you can warm me up later,” A’whora winks at her, and Tayce hides a giggle behind her hand. She never used to get shy if a girl flirted with her, especially not one with the lack of flirting abilities that A’whora possesses. She could always give as good as she got, she still can.

Tayce doesn’t know, though. Something about the past month with A’whora has changed her a little now that their relationship is inherently more intimate. Tayce can drop the cool, calm and collected persona she always used to wear to get girls into bed. Instead she’s allowed herself to be a little more goofy, a little more wild and animated and energised. A little more herself.

“You look stunning too, though,” A’whora adds with sincerity, the little grin on her face only making matters worse. Tayce has decided on a white shirt dress she’s cinched in at the waist with a huge belt, and paired it with thigh high vinyl boots. It’s one of those outfits she owns which is low effort but high payoff, especially when A’whora’s got a little twinkle in her eye like that.

Tayce snorts, grabs her bag from the side of her bed and whacks A’whora with it. “Stop trying to flatter me into bed and let’s go, gorgeous.”

They leave the flat with a shout of goodbye to Ellie and Lawrence, but judging from the way the door’s open and the showerhead’s running and both girls are yelping and laughing in the midst of some water fight, they aren’t able to hear it. Tayce leads A’whora through the cobbled streets and winding, dipping roads of the city as she talks a mile-a-minute about where they’re going and how she hopes they’ll have a free table. She almost wants to reach out and take A’whora’s hand, entwine their fingers together like another piece of the puzzle they share clicking into place. She doesn’t, but she wants to.

She’s sure the feeling will pass, anyway.

She’s sure it’s normal for her heart to swell as much as it’s currently doing as she walks beside A’whora, for it to flutter like a moth to a light whenever she smiles and flashes her teeth. A’whora is beautiful, and Tayce is sure that even friends that didn’t fuck would get tongue-tied if one of them was as stunning as she is.

To her delight, the brunch spot she’d had in mind has a table free for them; one beside the feature wall of plastic pink, blue and yellow flowers which Tayce already knows A’whora will be asking to take her photo in front of. She’s never actually been here before but she’s seen pictures on Instagram of the pink painted walls and pastel blue chairs and the white marble tabletops with shiny gold cutlery on top. She’s eyed up the breakfasts; avocado sourdough, eggs with golden yolks, and something which they’ve branded ‘donut French toast’ which A’whora is currently telling Tayce how excited she is to order, her eyes sparkling. If this was a date, it would be the perfect venue.

It’s just a pity that it isn’t.

They order two mimosas with their breakfasts- because fuck it, it’s Valentine’s day, and Tayce wants to celebrate the fact she’s got someone to spend it with even if it is just a friend- and the two of them fall into easy chat about all kinds of topics; uni, their courses, life at home in Wales and Worksop. Dating somebody new comes with stilted conversations, awkward pauses, the potential to cover a touchy subject. With A’whora there’s none of that. They already know each other inside out so they don’t have anything to re-learn. Tayce tells A’whora stories about Cara and Cheryl and understands when A’whora doesn’t join in with stories about her own friends from home. Instead, A’whora brings up their flatmates.

“I get really existential about it all. Y’know, fate and stuff,” A’whora frowns across the table at her mid-conversation. “Like, what are the odds the five strangers I’d live with in first year would be people I all get on with and genuinely like? And most of them would become my best friends in the world. You know?”

Tayce nods understandingly. “No, I get that. And like, fate putting Ellie and Lawrence in the same flat when they’d known each other for that long. And Tia and Bimini on the same train up when they moved in. What a small world?”

“Everything happens for a reason,” A’whora says quietly, shaken out of her small reverie by the plate of sugar-covered toast that’s being placed in front of her and thanking the waitress politely. Tayce can’t help but splutter a laugh when they’re left alone together again, looking at how A’whora’s eyes have lit up at the food in front of her.

“You’re like a child! An actual child. Swear to God, girl, you’ve got the same eating habits as Will Ferrel in Elf.”

A’whora cackles a laugh opposite her. Tayce wonders why it gives her such a sense of pride when A’whora laughs at something she says. Well, no- she knows exactly why, and the reason makes her stomach flip over like clothes in a tumble drier. She can’t think too much about that, though, so she thinks of something else quickly to take her mind off it.

“Right. I’ve got a fun game. First impressions of the five of us, go,” Tayce says, the idea coming to her as a result of what A’whora’s said. In response A’whora’s eyebrows shoot up, a scheming smile on her face as she tilts her head to consider her response.

“Ooh, well…easiest one is Bimini, because obviously I loved them from the get go.”

“How could you not?” Tayce agrees, spearing a strawberry from the pancakes she’s ordered herself.

“They just had this calm, kind aura that just immediately made me feel loads better about being away from home,” A’whora continues, nodding earnestly. “Same with Lawrence, although she was different. I actually thought she was batshit crazy. Or like, an alien, because no one human could be that funny.”

Snorting, Tayce points a finger at A’whora in recognition. “Jesus, that’s so true! I mean I’ve told you the story of when I first got to the flat? I actually thought she might’ve been on something. But that’s just who she is; when she’s up she’s up and when she’s down she’s down.”

There’s a pause as A’whora eats some more of her French toast, her gaze fixing on the wall as she thinks. “Ellie was the opposite. I didn’t know what to make of her at first. She was dead quiet and I think my back was up because I hated her dress sense.”

Tayce splutters. “Of course it was.”

“But now, like…God, don’t you miss the days when Ellie was quiet?” A’whora laughs affectionately. “I don’t know what I’d do without her, though.”

“She seemed a little more reserved than the others at first. But then that comes back to what you were saying about fate, because Lawrence definitely helped bring her out of her shell a bit.”

A’whora nods as she considers Tayce’s words, then her face breaks into a smile and she hides a guilty laugh behind her hands. “Tia…I thought I would not get on with at all.”

Tayce sips her drink and shrugs. “Well, you didn’t get on with her at first.”

“True. She’s just not somebody I would’ve ever hung out with before. I mean she’s told me before she thinks I would’ve bullied her in school, which, to be fair, I might’ve done,” A’whora pulls a guilty face. “But I guess being somehow the only two bitches with the ability to clean the flat is one hell of a bonding opportunity.”

Tayce feels her jaw drop open, offended. “Hey! I clean the flat!”

A’whora smirks. “Oh what, you pour undiluted Zoflora into the overflowing bin bag so it doesn’t smell, instead of actually…I don’t know, taking the bin out? My mistake, sorry. You’re actually the second coming of Mrs Hinch.”

The pair of them giggle together and Tayce sticks out her tongue in response. She takes a bite of her own breakfast before thinking about the girl they’re considering.

“I thought Tia was nice. Fun. I never saw her becoming my bestie or anything, but you know,” Tayce shrugs.

“No, that title was reserved for me,” A’whora smiles smugly. Tayce decides to have a bit of fun with her, tilts her head and narrows her eyes a little.

“You mean Bimini?”

“Fuck off,” A’whora fires back instantly, and Tayce throws her head back in a laugh. The laughter dies down as both girls eat some more of their food, until Tayce frowns at A’whora suddenly.

“You never said me.”

“Oh!” A’whora realises. Tayce thinks for a second that she could be blushing, but the sun has begun to appear behind the clouds and the light is shining through the glass windows and hitting the pink walls. It could just be that.

She looks gorgeous for it regardless.

“Do you want me to go first?” Tayce smirks, breaking out into a laugh as A’whora gives her an unimpressed glare.

“No, because I already know you’re gonna tell me you thought I was a total weirdo.”

“Not true! I actually thought you were a lot like me. Scared, nervous, a bit emotional. Well,” Tayce reaches across the table and pokes her playfully. “Maybe a bit more emotional than I was, but you know.”

A’whora rolls her eyes. “Good.”

“But seriously, I thought we were actually quite similar, y’know, underneath it all,” Tayce says, her voice growing a little quiet as she thinks. “It’s weird, isn’t it? The first maybe…month of uni. Everyone’s figuring shit out and either building new facades or letting their old ones from school or their hometowns drop. It’s rare you find someone who’s just real from the get-go.”

A’whora nods. “I think that was another reason why I was so scared. Because I was one of the bitches in school, and coming here I didn’t have those toxic friendships around me anymore. And you coming into my room on that first day was like…the first time in a while someone had actually been nice? And kind? So I guess I didn’t have much of a choice to just be myself. But also there was a part of me that didn’t really know what that looked like. You know?”

The conversation’s taken a deep turn, and Tayce doesn’t really know why. It’s not a result of one singular mimosa, she knows that much. But she’s glad A’whora feels like she’s able to talk like this with her. She knows it’s not always easy for her to open up to her friends, she knows she’s been burned in the past.

So Tayce reaches out across the table and takes her hand. “Well, to me…Aurora is a caring, kind, loyal friend. She has the biggest heart and all this love to give to so many people. She’s a shady hound, but we all love her for it. And all her friends treasure her because they know how lucky they are to have her in their lives.”

Tayce can tell A’whora’s trying to stop herself from smiling, and her gaze drops down to the table bashfully as she tucks her hair behind her ears. It’s almost like she’s embarrassed, self-conscious of the way all the diamonds of her personality have been excavated and laid bare. For a second Tayce feels a flush hit her face, wondering if she’s overstepped a mark, but then A’whora’s eyes lock onto hers and she’s smiling gratefully.

“Thanks, Tayce.”

Tayce would love to take her other hand. Tayce would love to lean over the table and kiss her in front of everyone else in the room. Tayce would love to tell A’whora everything she’s feeling, all these little moments and emotions illustrating a bigger picture that Tayce just wants her to colour in.

But they’re friends. So Tayce gives A’whora’s hand one last squeeze and winks at her as she draws her hand away.

“You’re welcome. Slag.”

And then they’re smiling at each other, and the conversation moves on. A’whora never did say what her first impressions of Tayce were, and it’s too late to ask her again. Tayce supposes it doesn’t really matter all that much. She’s more interested in how A’whora feels about her now. For example- does she feel the same way Tayce is feeling? Is she sitting opposite her trying to stop her heart jumping every time she smiles, trying to stop the butterflies fluttering in her stomach? Tayce is an upfront, honest girl. She’s blunt, and normally she’d ask.

But this situation isn’t normal, and something’s stopping her. Tayce always used to be the girl in primary school who’d play with the boys, run around the playground roaring until her lungs were hoarse pretending to be a tiger or a dragon, roll across the dusty tarmac getting her knees scraped and dirty. One thing she always, always used to pride herself on was her fearlessness. She’d puff up her chest before the flu vaccines, the dentist, any remotely fearful situation and hit out with “I’m not scared of anything”.

Why is she so scared now? Because she’s older, and life’s big worries are no longer a needle or a tiny mirror in her mouth. She’s not afraid of anything physical, things she can see; it’s the things she doesn’t know, the things she can’t work out that scare her so much. The thought of telling A’whora that what she feels for her might not be strictly friendship any longer gives her an adrenaline rush worse than any rollercoaster she’s been on, and it’s not entirely a good kind either.

The waitress appears to clear their plates and Tayce slaps her card down against the little metal tray ready to be tapped against the reader to pay the bill, just like she’d promised. It’s funny, though, that A’whora’s lost all her gumption now the time has actually come for Tayce to follow through on her promise, and as the waitress reappears A’whora is protesting wildly.

“You honestly don’t have to pay. I was just joking!”

Tayce laughs incredulously. “Oh that was a joke, was it? Seemed like a legally binding contract when we were at the flat!”

“Shut up, hound,” A’whora sticks her tongue between her teeth as she smiles cheekily.

The waitress hands her card back to Tayce and she keeps talking as she puts it away in her purse. “Well, don’t feel bad. As I said, the next one’s on you.”

As A’whora raises her eyebrows, the waitress fixes them with a cheery smile. “Thanks so much for popping in today, ladies, and I hope you enjoy the rest of your Valentine’s Day! Is this your first one together?”

Tayce chokes a little on nothing, tries to stop her eyes from flying wide open. She doesn’t dare meet A’whora’s eye as she shakes her head. “No, uh, we’re-”

“Aw, I knew it couldn’t have been your first, I could totally tell you’d been together way longer! Well may I say, you make a lovely couple,” she continues breezily, Tayce finally meeting A’whora’s gaze and trying not to laugh. The waitress thanks them once more before disappearing, and the two girls are left in a small bubble of silence before A’whora releases her giggles, Tayce putting her hands up to her burning hot cheeks.

“Jesus, Mary and Nora, what the hell was that? The Spanish Inquisition?” Tayce babbles, and A’whora doubles over opposite her.

“Well it is Valentine’s day, Tayce. It’s not that wild to assume two good-looking girls like us with such obvious chemistry are head-over-heels in love with each other,” A’whora winks. Tayce feels her heart do a backflip at the mention of that word, and she’s got about a split-second to cover up the fact her whole body’s been rocked by a ten on the richter scale.

Just continue the joke.

“Oh, yeah. Long-term relationship, married, house, kids. The babas.”

A’whora splutters a laugh, gestures around her. “Except we don’t know where the little shits are!”

The two of them are in fits again, and for a moment Tayce could pretend that it is all real, that maybe in a different world this is a date, and they are together, and everything’s as simple as it was when she was little and not even scared of the dark.

They stumble back to the flat together all fizzy with anticipation, drunk off of one mimosa each and sheer excitable lust. The pair of them keep the joke going all the way home- they have a semi-detached house in the suburbs, their children are named Tarquin and Edith and they attend private school and go to hockey and rugby clubs, they have a live-in cleaner, they do their weekly shop at Waitrose- both of them making the story more fantastical and ridiculous with every new addition that by the time they arrive back at the flat Tayce’s stomach hurts from laughing and A’whora’s bottom lashes are smudged with mascara from her own tears of mirth.

Tayce shushes her as she turns the key in the lock of their front door, hiding her own giggles and pressing a finger to A’whora’s lips playfully. A’whora responds by opening her mouth and snapping like a crocodile, only serving to set Tayce off again as she takes her hand and opens the door, sneaking through it comically like a Scooby Doo character as they hang up their coats in the hall. Luckily, though, they don’t even need to be quiet. There’s a blast of a hairdryer from Ellie’s room which mingles with the sounds of Katy Perry behind the door, and two sets of screeching laughs that cut through the combination. Maybe Tayce and Lawrence’s plan is actually working.

Tayce feels a familiar flutter in her stomach as she pulls A’whora into her room, her anticipation building. When she closes the door she whips round to find A’whora has already dumped her bag on Tayce’s floor and is sitting on the edge of Tayce’s bed, frantically trying to unbuckle her heels. They don’t even need to discuss what’s to come. They both know it’s all the other has been able to think about all morning.

Tayce unzips her boots and sits beside A’whora, resting a hand on her bare thigh. She traces her fingers over her skin gently and presses a kiss against her neck, her heart thumping as she hears A’whora sigh gently in response.

Tayce brings her lips up against her ear as she whispers. “I think you should keep them on.”

“Fuck,” A’whora hisses, her reaction so visceral despite Tayce not really having done anything at all yet.

True to form, A’whora swivels her head around to meet Tayce’s, cups her jaw and brings their lips together in a kiss that’s eager and frantic. She can hear her breathing- heavy and laboured and shuddery as her hands push into her hair, her fingers wrapping around little sections and pulling gently in a way that makes Tayce pull back to hiss through her teeth, dig her nails into A’whora’s inner thigh in stark contrast to the way she’s been gently teasing her.

“Behave,” Tayce warns.

“You know I can’t,” A’whora murmurs, cocking an eyebrow in response. She’s got Tayce’s dark lipstick painting her own lips now and it looks too good, makes Tayce squeeze her thighs together when she thinks about the lipstick marks she wants to leave all over her bare skin.

“Can’t give you what you want if you don’t behave, princess,” Tayce responds, inching her hand up her thigh and stopping just short of where she knows A’whora wants her to. She wants it too, though. She wants to brush her fingers over the material of her underwear, feel how wet she probably already is. But not giving A’whora what she wants is just as fun as satisfying her, if only to see her being reduced to liquid form in front of her, full of frustration.

“Please, Tayce,” A’whora pulls her in again, pressing kisses to her lips between snatches of sentences. “Want it so much, fuck.”

“Already? So impatient,” Tayce runs her thumb over her soft skin again. She’s burning up too but she’s not going to lose her own composure, not when the payoff of staying in control is so good. “You gonna be good for me, angel?”

“Mm-hm,” A’whora pouts against her lips. Tayce pulls away and the sight of A’whora’s half-lidded eyes with her pupils blown from lust isn’t helping her keep a handle on the situation at all.

She gently pushes A’whora back against the mattress, straddles her whilst unbuttoning her shirt and punctuating each button with a featherlight kiss, which she knows is driving A’whora out of her mind if the way she’s squirming underneath Tayce is anything to go by. A’whora’s scrabbling at the buttons on Tayce’s dress but she doesn’t have the patience or presence of mind that she does, and Tayce almost wants to giggle at the way she’s only done two buttons by the time Tayce has got her out of her shirt.

“Fuck’s sake, why did we both choose to wear things with so many fucking buttons,” A’whora growls quietly in frustration. Before Tayce knows what’s happening, A’whora has grabbed each seam and pulled, ripping the buttons of her dress off to expose Tayce in her own bra with the criss-cross straps at the back.

A’whora’s staring at her slack-jawed and Tayce can only blink at her in response. She can’t decide if A’whora ruining her dress has pissed her off or turned her on.

It’s definitely turned her on.

“Oh, you’re in a whole world of trouble for that, missy,” she narrows her eyes, pulling the rest of her dress off before moving so she can tug down A’whora’s skirt. She’s left in a matching set of red lace which she looks so sinful in that Tayce’s brain hotwires. Judging from the way A’whora’s hips are bucking against thin air, though, she’s not the only one that’s wound up.

“Jesus, Rory, lie still,” Tayce insists through a laugh. “I’m not about to try and eat you out and get a bloody pelvic bone to the face!”

A’whora whines, and Tayce watches her chest rise and fall rapidly as she stares up to the ceiling in a petulant huff. Her pout cracks, though, when Tayce spreads her legs and kneels between them, replacing her fingers with her lips as she kisses all the way up the inside of her thighs. The way A’whora huffs in frustration and grips the duvet with white knuckles makes Tayce’s core throb, and the need to touch herself is clouding her thoughts like smoke.

She already feels like she’s on fire, so she supposes it’s apt.

So Tayce decides to have a little fun, pulls back from A’whora and sits on her heels as she lets a hand flutter across her stomach and under the waistband of her underwear. She’s not going to take it too far- she’s only trying to teach A’whora a lesson- but as she brushes her fingers over her clit Tayce can’t help but give a little gasp, the satisfaction flooding through her.

The way A’whora flinches in horror and disappointment as she sits up and realises what’s happening makes Tayce feel momentarily sorry for her.

“Tayce!” she whines pitifully. “Fuck off, that’s not fair!”

“Life’s not fair, princess,” Tayce smirks, resting her other hand on her thigh.

“Oh my God, you’re such a bitch,” A’whora pouts at her. She knows A’whora could very easily start touching herself too, but Tayce knows she won’t. Tayce knows she only wants her, and that thought is so intoxicating that it knocks her for six a little, turning up the heat from a simmer to boiling point.

“If you want something from me, you’d better start being nicer.”

A’whora sits up and takes Tayce by the hand, pulls her into a kiss that’s so intense and full of lust it almost topples her over. When she pulls back her eyes are so big and pleading that Tayce feels bad for ever teasing her in the first place. “Please, Tayce. You know I’ll be good for you.”

Tayce cocks an eyebrow at her, but she moves her hand and rests it against A’whora’s other thigh anyway. “That’s the best begging you can manage, is it?”

A’whora smirks. “I’m not used to begging, I usually don’t have much of a problem getting what I want.”

Tayce shakes her head, mocking her as she gently pushes her back against the sheets again. “Such a spoiled brat.”

“Your spoiled brat, though,” A’whora grins smugly, cutting herself off with a gasp as Tayce hooks her fingers over the waistband of her underwear and tugs it off.

Tayce knows she’s going to eat her out but seeing how wet A’whora is makes her consider fucking her with her fingers. It’s a tantalising thought; the way A’whora always has to clamp a hand over her mouth to shut herself up because her moans get too loud, the complete lack of self-control she has when she rides Tayce’s fingers and the way she’ll guide them into her mouth and suck her own juice off them afterwards- Jesus fucking Christ. Tayce needs some sort of release soon or she’s going to be too overwhelmed to speak.

She wants to hear A’whora beg just a little bit more, though. Wants to feel her squirm and taste her on her tongue and trace patterns over her clit that make her whimper and tremble. So she kisses up her thighs again but this time she doesn’t waste any time in brushing over her clit with her tongue, the broken whine A’whora gives at the contact sounding completely illegal. A’whora pushes a hand into Tayce’s hair needily, and Tayce can hear her breathing coming in short gasps as she licks over her slit, swirls her tongue over her clit in a way she knows is good but isn’t what A’whora wants. Tayce is being deliberately slow and lazy, everything A’whora doesn’t need.

“Tayce, please,” A’whora pleads. Tayce kisses against her, then makes a big show of licking A’whora’s juice off her lips. From the way A’whora squeezes her eyes shut at the sight, it’s had the desired reaction.

“What is it, baby?” she murmurs lightly. A’whora gives a broken sob, thuds her head back against the pillow.

“Please, fucking…I need to come, I’m gonna fucking die if I don’t.”

Tayce can’t help but splutter a laugh, one which makes A’whora narrow her eyes at her. She supposes she’s had her fun.

“God, well we can’t have that on the post-mortem, can we?” she deadpans, before dipping her head back between A’whora’s legs and running her tongue over her clit like she’d done before, only this time she allows herself to be a little more messy and unrestrained. She’s rewarded by the little gasps A’whora gives, the whining and the moaning that’s getting more and more frequent with every flick of her tongue.

Tayce pulls away a little, brings her head up to look at A’whora. She’s got one hand in the cup of her bra and the other limp by her side, her chest gleaming with a light sheen of sweat. Her eyes are closed and her cheeks are red and her lips have dropped open, her breathing heavy and rapid.

A’whora’s the most beautiful girl in the world, and fuck, Tayce is so screwed.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” she says without thinking. She doesn’t know if she imagines it, but she swears A’whora’s cheeks grow redder.

“Does it feel good?” Tayce follows up her words, asks what she’d meant to ask in the first place.

A’whora bites her lip and nods her head. “Yeah.”

“You like it?”

“Fuck, yes,” A’whora squirms against the sheets, her frustration starting to show.

“Tell me how much.”

“Tayce, please-”

“Come on, princess. You’re being such a good girl using your words,” Tayce purrs, knowing that the praise will get a reaction out of her.

It does.

“Fuck, feels so good Tayce, so, so, fucking good…please don’t stop, please,” A’whora sighs out, then instantly cuts herself off with a cry as Tayce swipes her tongue over her clit again, gives her what she wants.

“Such a good angel baby,” Tayce murmurs against her, tracing over A’whora’s clit in circles and listening to her whimpers get more and more muffled as she bites down on her lip to shut herself up. She’s so desperate that she’s practically riding Tayce’s face at this point and it’s so hot that Tayce has to move a hand between her own legs, grinding against it as she licks A’whora again and again and surely she must be so close to the edge that-

Knock-knock-knock.

Tayce launches her head back from between A’whora’s legs so fast she thinks she’s given herself whiplash. When she locks eyes with A’whora her eyes are wide open too, the pair of them unable to do anything but look at each other, frozen in panic.

When Ellie’s voice comes, Tayce swears she’s never been closer to committing homicide. “Tayce, A’whora! We did Lawrence’s hair, you should see it!”

“Leave it, don’t answer,” A’whora hisses frantically at her. Tayce wouldn’t even be able to reply if she wanted to, the way the blood is racing in her veins and roaring in her ears rendering her motionless.

“We know you’re in, your coats are in the hall!” Lawrence’s voice comes, louder and with a hint of accusation to it.

Shit.

Tayce launches herself off the bed and throws A’whora’s clothes at her frantically as she shouts back. “Just…give us one minute!”

“The fuck are you doing in there that you need a minute?”

Tayce ignores her, trying to calmly turn her dress the right way round but it’s so inside out and jumbled up that it’s rendering the process a lot trickier than she needs it to be right now. A’whora’s in a worse situation, though- she’s got every button on her shirt to button up, and if she wasn’t able to unbutton Tayce’s shirt when she was horny she’s sure as hell unable to button her own up under pressure.

“Where the fuck is my thong? Where did you put it?” A’whora hisses at her, scrambling at the duvet in desperation. Tayce’s eyes dart round her floor, cursing herself for not having an immaculately tidy room like A’whora’s. With a sigh of relief she finds it sitting on top of a floordrobe pile and she snatches it up and throws it to A’whora quickly. She turns her attention back to her dress and can almost feel a stress headache growing at her temples. Why won’t the fucking thing turn the right way-

“Have we to stand out here all day like a pair of lemons?”

“Give us a bloody minute, Jesus!” Tayce yells back, feeling like punching the air as she finally sorts her dress out. Her blood runs cold, however, as she makes to tug it over her head and Lawrence’s voice comes again.

“For fuck’s sake, girls, I’m sure it’s not that bad, we’ve seen each other in worse states.”

The doorhandle moves and A’whora and Tayce both yell in tandem. “Nonononono!”

The door bursts open, Tayce is standing holding her unbuttoned dress in her bra and pants, A’whora’s on the bed in her thong and half a buttoned up shirt, and there’s Ellie and Lawrence in the doorway with their eyes wide and jaws slack. Lawrence, in all her freshly lilac-dyed glory, is the first to turn around, pushing against Ellie frantically as she tries to exit the room as quickly as she came in. As she’s leaving, Tayce hears the start of her sentence.

“What possible heterosexual explanation could there fuckin’ be-”

Tayce can only look at A’whora, whose head is in her hands in embarrassment. Her heart goes out to her and she crosses the room and sits beside her on the bed, placing a hand on her knee to comfort her.

“Well. They know.”

“And so will the whole flat in about five minutes’ time,” A’whora deadpans into her hands. When she pulls her head back her face is beetroot red, and even though Tayce is embarrassed too she can’t help but laugh at the state her friend is in.

“Fuck’s sake,” Tayce shakes her head as she giggles, resigned to the fact their secret is out. There’s a pause of silence before A’whora frowns.

“I’m sorry.”

Tayce frowns back at her affectionately. “What’re you apologising for! It’s not like it was either of our faults.”

There’s a silence again in which A’whora brings her knees up to her chest and hugs them.

“Do you still want to…you know. Do you still want to keep doing all this? Now they know.”

Tayce nods quickly. A thought occurs to her and she frowns. “Unless you don’t want to?”

“No! No, I still do,” A’whora insists, a shy smile growing on her face that lifts Tayce’s hopes a bit.

Tayce pokes A’whora’s arm, slyly grins in realisation. “Well. Guess if the whole flat knows then there’s no real reason to be quiet from now on, is there?”

When A’whora meets her eyes there’s a spark between them, and when they fall against the mattress together in a kiss then Tayce thinks maybe the others knowing about the pair of them won’t matter a single bit.

As long as they get to keep doing this together.