#And sometimes it's hard to sit down and pump out art you know?

[shima-draws]

I had a conversation with my mom about commissions--she’s of the opinion that you shouldn’t have to wait super long to get what you paid for. I’m the opposite; I think artists should be able to take as long as they need to finish a commission, and I’m totally cool with waiting for months even for them to get back to me. Surprisingly enough I’m very patient when it comes to commissioning other people lol. Maybe I just think that way bc I’m an artist myself so I totally get the struggle. (And I also take time with my comms too.) My mom is not an artist so she doesn’t really grasp the amount of time and effort it takes, so she expects results immediately. Which like. I get that too? I dunno. What do you all think? Are you the kind of patient person who’s totally chill with an artist taking months to finish your commission? Or do you want it to be done within a reasonable amount of time, like 2-3 weeks?

[st-danger]

Dew: paint me like one of your french girls (joke)

Swiss: okay (not joke)

Dew: embarrassed and flushed and hard as hell as he sits while Swiss draws him. Nothing more than an object to be captured on paper (he’s never been more turned on)

He's never hidden his pens and art books, but he's never advertised it either. It's just something Swiss does, the sketching. Scenes from the tour bus. Scenery. Sometimes nothing at all but shapes and squiggles filling an entire page just because he can.

To be the centre of his attention in general makes Dew preen. To be the sole focus like this is an overwhelming and decadent kind of thing, he thinks.

Inspected, observed. A vehicle for Swiss to use as a creative outlet.

"Legs spread," Swiss says, again. "Don't hide. Let me see it."

Dew leans back on the bed, locking his arms behind him, and parts his legs.

"Good. Hold that," Swiss murmurs, sounding almost distracted alongside the push and pull of the pencil. Long, loose lines Dew can't wait to see. Under the approval, Dew feels familiar heat low in his belly.

"Like the view?" he can't help but ask, tilting his head and gifting Swiss with a wry smile.

"It's nice," Swiss agrees and Dew rolls his eyes.

"It's more than nice," he corrects. He knows what he looks like; he doesn't feel it egotistical in the least to acknowledge that the form he wears Above Ground is an attractive one. Swiss allows a knowing smirk, a brief flash before his concentration is back, face carefully neutral once more.

"Stroke it for me," he says, like it's a normal request, casual. Dew draws a breath, pleased. His left hand moves from the bed and comes to rest on his chest. Slowly, slowly, Dew lets his fingers trail down his sternum, his belly. Showy and unnecessary, but Swiss is here to observe and enjoy; far be it from Dew to deny him. He sees the way Swiss's eyes follow the lines he draws, down further, brushing over a hint of hair below his navel, down to the patch of hair at the base of his cock. Finally, curling around his shaft, holding himself in a loose fist. It's teasing, his movements. Light. At odds with how heavy he's leaning back in his right hand to hold him up.

The pencil scratches against the paper and Dew plays with himself.

He feels less like he's under a spotlight in stage and more like he's under a microscope. The intensity with which Swiss is staring at him, at every turn of his wrist- he always gets flushed when aroused. Always. And it will spill down his neck, onto his chest as it always does. He wonders if Swiss will shade him darker there.

"You can go faster," Swiss says after a few minutes of Dew's lazy toying. He agrees, of course, but,

"Is that a suggestion or is that what the artist requires?" he drawls. Swiss looks up from the page with dark eyes.

"If you're gonna sit for this, I need full cooperation." Dew feels a frission of pleasure zing down his spine.

"Of course," he agrees, hand tightening, working himself faster, dick filling out quicker. "Wouldn't want to disrupt your...creative process."

"'Course not," Swiss replies. The sketchbook is held steady in his lap. "You're a good boy."

If Dew were to, say, let out a hint of a pained moan, Swiss doesn't acknowledge it.

He pulls at himself in even, measured pumps, fully hard in little time at all and chewing on his lip. Swiss avoids his eyes, looking only over his naked body or the paper in his lap. Not seeing him for him. He's an object to be appreciated, and Dewdrop so loves to be adored.

It's a thrill.

He knows under the sketchbook, Swiss is hard. He's thick and heavy in his pants, and he's adjusted his posture twice in the chair, subtly uncomfortable. Dew enjoys this particular brand of suffering for himself, and it's made all the sweeter for knowing he isnt the only one. He can't stop himself from pushing his hips into his fist.

"Stay still," Swiss chides.

He stops stroking, lets go, and his stiffy sways. Swiss raises a brow.

"It's hard," Dew shrugs. "You want me still-"

"Hold it."

Dew stares for a moment, and then wraps his fingers around the base, squeezing.

"Hold it still?"

Swiss does not respond, merely goes back to short strokes on the page and Dew waits for any further instruction. It doesn't come. A long, silent minute passes.

"Tip wet yet?" Swiss asks, not even looking up from the page. Dew swallows, mouth suddenly dry.

"Not yet," he says.

"Let me know when it is."

[iraprince]

any advice for starting sketches? once i have a coherent foundation it's easier for me to work on the drawing but i struggle SO BAD with actually making my initial sketch something that makes sense. when i try to start the sketch it feels like im just trying to get lucky with something i can actually work on. it's like i cant transfer what i want to see in my head to the actual work and it's insanely frustrating. it's like i can only know what i want to do when it's already there, not when nothing is there. ive been drawing for over 10 years and this is something I've never been able to change no matter how many different ways I've tried to go about this and it's why ive gone everywhere from drawing multiple times a week to not doing it at all for months/years at a time. i never want to try because the process of attempting a new sketch is so frustrating a majority of the time and i wish i could enjoy it or know why i cant get my sketches started. it's fine when i do get lucky, it's just the blank page that torments me

hmmm this is a really good question. it's something i have an easier time with digitally than traditionally, somehow -- like, i can't tell you how many stacks of paper i have sitting around that are full of, like, 20% of a floating head because i keep getting that far on starting something and then deciding i hate it, vs with digital sketches i do still often scrap/give up on sketches very early but somehow there's less friction irt just making a new layer and trying again, over and over pretty quickly. maybe it's that digital feels faster + more ephemeral, vs w traditional i'm faced more confrontationally with the paper i'm "wasting," etc

also i think just like. "what's in my head will not show up on the paper" is just the universal problem forever, it's the tide we're always swimming against and we'll go through waves where it feels more or less true depending on the current development of our technical skill vs our critical eye, but i don't think it ever fully goes away

this is just what's true for me but if it always feels like you're just trying to get lucky, the fastest brute force solution for that is leaning into quantity, imo. draw a LOT, draw FAST, and -- easier said than done, but -- try your best not to CARE if they look bad. even in the shittiest drawing there is often something you can salvage for later. i can't remember where i saw it but i once saw it said that drawing is like a clogged pipe -- there's a bunch of shitty drawings stuck in there and you have to get those all OUT before you can expect the real stuff behind it to start flowing

lower the stakes, in whatever way you can. in my experience, it's not that drawing itself is really that hard or taxing -- it's that the emotional toll of doing drawings and then not being happy with them is hard, it's disappointment and being down on yourself that's hard. if we do our best to strip away all the emotional baggage, that's that part that can actually make art so grueling and difficult to keep up with imo. so try the best u can to just make it, like... not that serious. remind yourself over and over again that there's nothing actually wrong with making drawings you're not satisfied with. it's not doing anything bad to anyone. i literally mumble it to myself sometimes -- when a drawing is coming out shitty or i just can't get where i want to be on an illustration i say to myself "it's okay, that's fine" and try to pump the brakes on the negative thoughts before "ugh, that's not what i wanted" somehow internally transforms into "you SUCK and you're a HACK and there's no point to ANY OF THIS!!!!" lol

in terms of more concrete stuff to try -- one of my fav exercises to loosen up is song sketches. i put a huge playlist (usually like literally all my music, i have it all in a folder on spotify) on shuffle and then draw a bunch of quick sketches only for the duration of each song, and usually trying to match the drawing to whatever the song makes me think of -- so if it's a 2 minute song, i literally only have 2 minutes. if i hit some 7 minute club edit, then great, i have 7 minutes to bang out something slightly more polished. depending on how fast you're used to working, you may find that at first you struggle to get ANYTHING coherent down in 2-3 minutes -- that's OKAY!!! another point of this exercise is to acclimate yourself to making unfinished, incoherent, dogshit drawings without it being a big deal. the point is that if you're limiting yourself this much (in terms of actual drawing time AND in terms of not being able to overthink/plan, you have to hear the start of the song and decide what ur gonna draw IMMEDIATELY), you will end up churning out a lot more drawings without individually agonizing over each one as much, and there WILL be something salvageable in the pile.

i hope some part of this is helpful!!!! good luck!!!

[ask-bing-and-the-g-unit]

“So kind of you to join me, Bing.”

Dark’s words were ice placed on Bing’s neck to melt, trickling down his spine bit by bit with a chill like no other. He offered a lopsided grin in return. “I’m on time though, boss man.”

“Early, actually, which I appreciate,” they corrected, moving their eyes to the analog clock on the other side of the empty conference room — not that their eyes had been on him in the first place. “It gives me time to ask what the cause of your absence was.”

Bing swallowed thickly before grinning a little wider with anxiety, tension pumping through his core. The substitute shades with green lenses from Ivan were not as big as he would have liked, but they were enough, he had to remind himself. Also, how the frick does Ivan see in these things? Everything is so green— “Just got, uh, caught up in stuff. Like– like the rats. And art. Ya know.” He pushed out a weak laugh as he forced himself to not fidget under the weight of the air.

Silence settled over the two of them, the room still dim from only having window light of the approaching evening. The black irises on black pupils pierced through Bing, scrutinizing his being, looking at him for once — Bing felt dizzy — before Dark turned their head away again. “I will not press, Bing. However, I do want to say I’m upset at the lack of communication. Your presence away had been very frustrating.”

“Frustrating?”

“Do not miss another meeting,” they continued, their head tipping in his direction with a long blink. “Whether you realize it or not, there are quite a few here that listen to you, and the sway that you have benefits me as well.” The head of the house closed their eyes to take in a slow breath before the world glitched, and they were now sitting in a relaxed position at one head of the table.

Bing clenched his fists. “Why does it matter to you? You don’t even like me.”

The Bing bot sucked in a breath, instant regret on his tongue. The air went still — No, static buzzed in Bing’s ears. “You understand that one of your fellows, the blue one, he restrains himself?” stated Dark, the words articulated to daggers.

This seemed awfully off topic. Bing folded his arms, rubbing the hoodie sleeves nervously. “N- No? He always answers me when I ask him questions. Or… I guess he… He words it carefully sometimes to skirt around the topic.” Huh. He didn’t like that realization.

“So you do know how to listen,” Dark noted, and the android again focused on the suited other. “Listen well, Bing. It is nothing against you. It never was and never will be something personal against you. I have my past. You have your own. Your friends have theirs. Understand that I am not trying to be disrespectful.”

Bing studied them, mystified by the sudden confession. “Okay.”

__________

__________

“I don’t understand why I can’t go out yet.” Bing flipped through his memory, trying to place a name to the lightly tattooed man who now spoke. The stranger had arisen from his seat brazenly, a hard look in his dark eyes. New? Definitely. The android vaguely remembered the start of a new room before he closed himself off.

This must be the occupant.

Many looked over in confusion at Dark whose jaw shifted in a way that Bing recognized: they did not know. While almost everyone stared at the head, Bing focused on the man beside Dark. Wilford gave a massive yawn, eyes blinking blearily. (Bing struggled to recall any time he had seen Wil tired.) But the brown eyes of the mustached man were on the newcomer who was grasping for answers.

Bing’s gaze flashed back to Dark the moment that Wilford leaned on the table, arms folding to cradle his head as he closed his eyes. Dark managed to postulate further. “You are still a wanted man, Deven-Varen –”

“Yancy.”

“– Yancy, you are still a wanted man,” they corrected smoothly, the repetition hammering into the room. “I am more than comfortable to reveal your situation to everyone here, but I do not have to if you would end this conversation and sit down.”

The newcomer Yancy blanched, and his hands gripped at the table ledge. Keeping eye contact with Dark, he slowly sat back down, an anger in his eyes as he fumed.

“Fucking hell, give the guy a break,” sneered Ivan from his seat while he played with the hoodie string endlessly. “He got here – what? – three weeks ago? You need to get out more, Dark.”

Dark raised an eyebrow at the commentary. “Is that all, Ivan?”

Bing lightly kicked his best friend under the table.

::: pain in my ass texted: not worth it dude

::: Bestie 💚: Yeah yeah yeah

“Yeah,” the green Google scoffed, “that’s all.”

“Wonderful.”

“But, uh — not everyone gets to leave, ya know,” Bing started slowly. Yancy squinted in confusion, but his attention was now on the bot. Bing began to chew his lip but quickly stopped himself and steeled (ha, steel – robots) his nerves. “There’s a handful of people that don’t leave the house. And, dude, think about it: it’s not just about you. Why would you be told to stay in one place if it was only a danger to yourself?”

::: Bestie 💚: Bitch what happened to not worth it

Bing could feel Ivan’s glare on him, but he did not look. He had to remain steadfast.

Yancy mulled it over, eyes now moving back and forth between Bing and Dark. “It’s not forever?” he stated to confirm.

“Until the attention fades. A potential name change thrown in there as well,” Dark added. Yancy settled reluctantly but contently, and the rest of the room simmered to a low as well.

The topic was swept away as Dark took a moment to breathe. “Any other questions or concerns before I move onto the final topic of today.” The soft mumbled were the only response given, the mass of people eager to end this soon to get to their evenings. “Very good. There will be five new residents brought within a month’s time. Randall, Yancy, please take time from your schedules to construct the new rooms. Wilford will give instructions and advice as needed, but I am confident that you will know what to do. You may all be dismissed.” Dark sank back into the chair, and Ivan’s eyes twitched, focus darting over to them.

With a yawning Oliver in tow, Eric paused by Bing on the way out, and a warm hand settled on the orange bot’s head. “Good to see you, Bing.”

[t-cedes]

The rose

It’s was a warm day that Friday . Unusually warm for a December morning in Chicago. Tammy was used to the weather being out of whack at this point , as her mother would say “ Chicagos weather is unpredictable with this global warming”. Her mothers words echoed in her head like they did on every unusually warm winter day. Tammy was headed to her job at the law firm Sandersons law firm from her sky rise in south loop downtown. Sandersons is one of the biggest law firms in the city. Most people would be intimidated working with big power house attorneys, but not Tammy. She had the courage of a lion, something her grandmother prided her on when she was a little girl. Very determined like her father who was a surgeon that started from humble beginnings in Tennessee. Tammy was sure that’s where her ambitions attributes came from. With looks that could turn anyone’s head for a double look, she was a double threat to anyone who dared to compete. As she’s heading towards her 2024 Mercedes g class she notices something that catches her eye. “Oh HELL no” she says as she sees someone has slipped in single rose under her windshield wiper on the drivers side. Normally a flattering gesture but not on her brand new 200,000 dollar car! Underneath the rose a card that reads I hope this makes you smile! Tammy lightens up a little as she carefully removes the rose first then the card. Ok it’s cute I guess Tammy says to herself . She opens the card and it reads.

Dear neighbor,

I hope I’m not startling you with this note. I couldn’t help but notice you the other day and as I tried to catch you you were getting in you car and pulled off. I would love to take you out sometime if your free.

My number is 312-234-6789 call or text me sometime?

Tammy didn’t know what to think at this point. She thought should I be scared or flattered? Oddly enoughI’m flattered. She pushes the flattery down her throat like a huge gulp of water and jumps in he car. Her Yves Saint Laurent pumps pressuring hard on the gas as she speeds off with a extra boost of confidence from the mystery letter. She arrives to work about thirty minutes early something she always done since a child. Her mother was a stay at home mom who believed if your on time your late and she instilled this in Tammy and her younger sister Tina. Tammy arrive to the firm garage parking lot and heads toward the large glass revolving door walking down the hall her heels clicking on the marble floor to the elevator. She gets to her office and puts her Louis Vuitton purse in its usual spot a drawer specially made to fit every designer bag Tammy owns. Her entire office dripped power from the colors she chose for her wall art ( an very pricey abstract piece mixed with red and navy swirls). To the hundreds of books on her costumed made bookshelf. Her assistant Marie made sure she had coffee and fresh roses cut and perfectly placed on her desk every morning befor Tammy arrives. She sits at her desk and lets a smile creep across her face like the sun at high noon in her 12th floor office floor windows. How did he know roses were my favorite and who is this mysterious man, she thinks to herself. Tammy gave him the name the note guy, since no name was left. The note guy slowly drifted to the back of Tammy’s mind as she remember all the work there was to be done. That Friday felt like the longest Friday ever. That morning she had been working on a case with her client Bill. Bill was suing a large pharmaceutical company for ailments he had acquired while using prescription medication for 12 years with no warning of his specific ailments. It’s a challenge that Tammy loves to take on but draining none the least. A knock on the door from Marie. “Sorry to interrupt but John (Tammy’s boss and partner at Sandersons) is wanting to talk you. “ ok thank you Marie” Tammy says dismissing her assistant.

Tammy removes her glasses and heads down the hall to johns office. As she’s walking she notices a familiar face but she can’t quite make out from where. It was a very handsome man who had been talking to her co worker Matt in the conference room located in the middle of the firm surrounded by noise drowning glass windows. It was hard to tell if he was a client or a attorney. He was wearing a perfectly tailored suit in the color navy with a black tie. A very polished classic look. His hair perfectly cut with a low fade and beautiful brown skin. Tammy didn’t want to stare so she gave a quick smile and continued to johns office. “You wanted to see me” she says after a soft knock on the cracked door. Her voice prompted John to spin around in his chair. A very dramatic move typical John move. “Ah yes, come in have a seat” says John with delightful enthusiasm. I’ve been wanting to talk to you about our new employee Malcom, you may have seen him on your way working with Matt? He says as Tammy slowly sits in his square chair placed perfectly caddy corner to his desk. Have you two been introduced? Hell no Tammy thinks. “ no I have not “ she replies in a confident tone. Well you will be working with him on the case against HJ pharmaceutical, I will introduce you both. John calls his assistant Brian to fetch the tall dark handsome man who she now has to work with. Great she thinks to herself first the note now this. Her nerves balling up like a piece of paper getting ready to be shot In a waist basket. She give John a awkward smile as she ticks her hair. A nervous tick she has. She turns around as she hears deep voice say thank you followed by Malcom walking in with a smirk that showed a little of his perfect white teeth. “ Well hello” Malcom says. John chimes in, I would like you to meet our very talented attorney Tammy, your going to be working with her on our high profile case Williams vs H. J pharmaceutical. Tammy says, it’s very nice to meet you, she was uncontrollably smiling from ear to ear as the words slipped through the crack of her smile. The scent of his cologne went straight through Tammy, he smelled like a warm musk that hugs your senses in all the right ways. They exchange a firm handshake the one that says business is going to get handled. Like wise Malcom replies. Why don’t you and Malcom go over the case so you guys can get right to it says John dismissing the two to get to work immediately. After all of if they won this case it meant big money for Sandersons John tammy and now Malcom. “Follow me” says Tammy showing Malcom the way to her office. A sense of knowing Malcom was checking tammy out from behind came over her. I mean who wouldn’t she had the perfect fit and toned coke bottle shape that she played up in her wait synching tailored suits stylishly put together. Todays color pick was cream. A color that complements her deep honey toned skin so perfectly. Her hair she usually wears up in a curly updo, was flowing perfectly down her back in big dark brown waves today. Tammy called it her Friday hair. As they approach her office Tammy ask Malcom if he had any questions before they began “not as of now, I’m sure you’ll fill me in on everything” replies Malcom. A sudden flash of the rose came across Tammy’s mind almost like her mind was trying to actively make Malcom the mystery man. She shakes the thought and picks up her office phone. “ Marie would you pull all the files for the H.J case, “sure thing” replies Marie. Thank you says tammy followed by her putting the phone back to the receiver. So we have a very intricate case here. Our client Bill is suing H.J for 60 million due to their medication causing severe liver damaged that was not labeled or Cautioned to him before or during his use of culex a prescription drug the company uses for mental health conditions, in his case anxiety. Since it isn’t something he had to take he is suing for the lack of caution and side affects the drugs could potentially and now have caused and could have been avoided. Marie knocks on the door, “come in Marie” Tammy says,

[sugar-petals]

Group Sex With SuperM

SUMMARY: creating a group chat is all it takes.

↳ A/N. yep, we’re going there. 

words. 14k

WARNINGS ⚠️ friends to lovers hc, porn with plot, idol au, sex w/ all members individually and together, dom/sub dynamics, corruption kink, sexting, blowjobs & cunnilingus, gaping, graphic, pegging, bondage, light foot fetish, sex toys, spitroasting (m receiving), brat taming, dick riding, protected sex, doggystyle, cuddling aftercare

curious about an eightsome are we

understood

how’s the state of things then?

last september you decided to open an entire group chat just for planning your juicy sexual activities together

and oh lord is it active

and full of ideas

and explicit videos

and emojis

and excitement

yesterday taemin sent a clip of lusciously covering himself in champagne foam for you

wearing close to nothing

in fact just a piece of gauze, a snake-shaped necklace, and probably a bit of perfume

oh boy

watching that was an out-of-body experience for sure

the entire chat basically imploded with reactions

but hey hey

not so fast

we need to go through everything from the start

to see how all these utterly historic events happened to unfold

so where did all that come from?

first off 

befriending super m outside work (eating together, fooling around, bingwatching stuff, you know)

...means there’s no point nor chance in having a permanent favorite with a group like this

every member truly is the creme de la creme

super m is the package of the entire packages

they are so legendary you can bias each member for one day of the week 

and never run out of that pure bliss

in fact 

you all agreed to do exactly that on a regular basis to get to know each other casually

it just naturally happened

seven days seven members that’s just logical

you can’t always hang out together in full attendance so you split up your times and set specific days

you change that routine very often depending on your individual moods

but it usually goes like this because you want to develop closer bonds with them one-on-one

so this is how it ends up

mondays you work out with xuxi. oh, that sexy smiley man. his body is the ultimate bomb. is there something better than doing sit-ups next to him? anybody’s sports motivation would go through the roof. and if there’s someone you call to share a pile of food with? it’s just gotta be him. being with yukhei is self-care.

tuesdays, you visit ten to check out his latest dance moves. and: to have a huge cuddle session with the cats. sometimes, you watch whatever series you’re in the mood for. it’s always a time to slow down and mend your sore muscles from monday anyway. you think ten is so interesting and talented, and super pretty, truly one of a kind.

on wednesdays jongin and you often end up on long midnight walks with the dogs or you both look after his cute nieces. meeting up at the river han is a staple, you get ice cream and snacks. you adore kai because he’s a sweetheart and steadfast person, and admittedly... so damn hot, holy hell. being with him makes you feel great.

thursday is baekhyun day and full of cheeriness as you’d expect. long hours of gaming, cheeky skinship, banter, and pizza eating await you at his apartment. you adore this mochi for his everything, he makes you laugh uncontrollably so much. sometimes, you also comfort him when he doesn’t feel good about himself or exhausted from practice. he will sing anything you want, baekhyun is like your personal 24/7 radio station.

fridays it’s time for the studio. mark is crafting his most fire bars and loves to have you around there. you inspire him a lot. he’s just completely astounding and the sweetest to you. friday most people would go clubbing, but super m just has to meet up in the studio. no paparazzi, and the music is obviously danceable. i’m telling you: this mob can jop, duh.

saturday is for handsome taeyong who loves coming to your home. cooking, organizing, doing the laundry, and browsing youtube together is the best thing. taeyong is the shyest goodest boy and a great listener. he gives great advice and is the epitome of respectful. you just vibe very well together.

sunday you dedicate to taemin. you watch artsy films, experiment with outfits, and he plays the piano for you so expertly. man, you are lucky. he’s like a fairy to you, and a connoisseur, a mythical figure almost. since he’s a newly-found cat dad, you easily fill your day playing with the most interesting kitten that is lee kkoong. sometimes, you even meet shinee members dropping by.

so yes this is what paradise looks like

and they all love to engage with you in their own way and you develop favorite ways to spend time, they put so much effort into this

it goes without saying that you all realize how hard you’re crushing as the weeks pass

like can you imagine

all the hormones i swear

you’ve already been joking to them that you have seven boyfriends some months ago

well the prophecy is fulfilled faster than you can blink

when you meet up as eight for a movie night at baekhyun’s, the atmosphere feels pretty frisky

because lucas is sending you ten thousand glances and certainly nobody misses that

if this guy is laughing at your every word i mean

meanwhile taeyong is having a nervous meltdown at your every comment about the movie, it’s ridiculous, he’s smitten as fuck, he looks at you like you’re an actual goddess

mark keeps on making glimmering eyes at you as well, and he asks you if you want popcorn every two minutes

baekhyun is all curled up close to your lap and not even watching the movie because his face is almost nuzzled into your sweater for fuck’s sake

taemin has spent the entire preperation in complete frenzy making sure there are scented candles everywhere and the snacks are exquisite and costly. mother taemresa? at full throttle. he even used his own damn credit card.

meanwhile kai suffers from his fidgety legs, constant hair fixing and even more inability to concentrate on the movie 

because damn, he knows he wants your attention. he literally came around with the tightest shirt he owns so there’s that. you can see every little muscle doing its thing when he does as much as breathe. kai is now well aware he came to impress. it won’t take him a lot to realize he wants to be even closer to you than doing midnight walks.

ten is so firmly snuggled up next to you, he might as well be your cat himself. if ten starts acting like a clingy feline instead of being in roast mode, you know he’s lovestruck i’m telling ya

needless to say

the mood in the room is hard to ignore

hell there are romance candles everywhere all those hecking rose fumes are to blame

surprise surprise all the members try to sit as close as possibly to you the more the movie progresses

even abandoning the couch and seats to sit on the ground in front of you instead

“you want popcorn?”

“like some more popcorn?”

“here, have my popcorn!“

“more popcorn?”

“hey do you want popcorn?”

from all sides, constantly

the m in super m stands for making sure you have popcorn

you never run out

like when the leading lady is pulling out a cigarette in those old hollywood flicks and at least twenty guys are scurrying to offer a lighter

i’m exaggerating but

nobody even knows what kind of movie they’re watching tonight though

the elephant in the room is trumpeting too loud to understand the dialogue

you’re surrounded by seven big ole hotties who have fallen for you

it was inevitable

it’s more than clear to everyone that they all like you and you couldn’t be any more fluttered yourself

let the hunger games begin

i’m jopping i mean i’m joking

this is not the wwe

it’s pretty clear to the boys that if they fight you’re gonna be so unhappy and your quality time together is ruined

you adore them all, and they’d be regretful about hurting their own bonds 

and anyway

if it came down to it and the bad blood was really escalating um...

...ten would destroy all of the competition

there’s no denying

by the simple virtue of his badassery and winning disease

quickly reducing all his opponents to a pile of dust so fine-grained, the great freddie mercury himself would resurrect to sing the soundtrack in the background and pump his fist

imagine that. superm actually being gladiators i mean wasn’t that the entire jopping mv

baekhyun would try to pull the leader authority card and use his hapkido martial arts skill but ten would obliterate him anyway so

even if taemin put on a dark robe and drew a salt circle to summon a million snakes from hell, ten would win the fight to a fault

but that’s too apocalyptic and outside of that thought experiment the boys are actually kinda shy so... let’s scratch that

there are seven days of the week with good reason 

you ease the uncertainty and tension by saying you’d truly fail as a tv bachelorette

everyone understands that deciding would be impossible and cheating is shit

why give someone a rose and break 6 hearts when you can hand out a whole damn bouquet

it’s more stylish my friend

and for what reason would ten want to face off against taemin and his army of snakes in the first place. they’re ten’s greatest inspiration

nor does kai have any tighter shirts 

he already ran out, he brought his A game from the get-go

on top of that the popcorn is empty there’s no more to offer

so you remain with the idea to just keep your daily routine

xuxi monday, ten tuesday and so on

keeps everything in order

it’s fair

plus it doesn’t mess with their schedules

usually unless a big award show is coming up but that can be re-planned in advance as well

you know... things can develop in their own timing with each member

it’d be awkward to expect everyone to be on the same stage at once

baekhyun is comfortable with all kinds of back hugs while taeyong and taemin are still completely flustered and turn all wobbly at just a greeting wave

you know what i mean

it’s already clear everyone loves you very differently 

some members are more straightforward, others take it slow, it’s just a normal thing

that’s when the group chat is born

it’s still very sfw 

compared to how explicit it’ll be in the future ahem

and everyone is overcautious with writing something except baekhyun, the eternal extrovert

for now you keep each other updated on how it’s all going with trivial details

earlier you just had individual chats and baekhyun arranged the group meetings since he knows the schedule best

now it’s all in one spot so that works

everyone’s curiosity is quenched at least a little bit

and they see each other anyway and put their heads together

baekhyun will be the most open about how far your skinship slowly develops followed by lucas and kai who oggle each other in their usual tom and jerry manner

which you have an eye on

you tell the members something very important for when they’re envious

or feel the need to one-up or catch up

it’s the sign to get closer to you and that they’re ready for taking another step. that’s literally what jealousy is all about

that advice helps them out a lot actually

kai takes that to heart in particular because he knows he’s prone and feels bad about it

and they also learn from ten who carries a quiet happiness with confidence that doesn’t need comparison, but he can also talk very honestly about how he’s standing with you to the point

ten knows how it’s done

as expected of such a competent man

like he’s kissed your hands very lightly but he doesn’t feel the need to show it off all day

and he also leads by example together with taemin and taeyong how one can give compliments even when not being involved in something 

“you’re looking adorable together“ as taemin would often say about you hanging out with kai or baekhyun

a lot of praise culture is developing in the group chat

you like to see it 

and now for the other elephant in the room

as for who will ask you to sleep with him first

(and mind you at this point they’re all walking around with condoms in their backpacks and jackets)

believe it or not

after the finishing touches on his latest mixtape (oh yes), and those tracks have you feeling some kind of way oh shit, mark gathers all his courage

yes it’s mark lee 

literally he steps into the blaze of bravery of jongin when he first put on a crop top

and gets out a little “can we... some time... you know...” after you’re having some pretzel sticks together and awkwardly sitting around

oh what's gonna happen next huh?

you say you’ve been thinking about it a lot

that he has a great body doesn’t go unseen

and tell him how you imagine it with him

long story short you’ll have your first quickie in the sound booth that night

cutting straight to the chase

him steadily penetrating you from behind, you leaning closely with your back to his chest

just standing and enjoying the rhythm

that dick. is amazing.

oh god, mark lee

long, curved, smooth, a classic

meanwhile your fave rapper is definitely going through it

his arms tell you everything

that’s an embrace for the books

he’s hugging you like his life depends on it

you can just take in how he’s been showering twice today this guy is clean as fuck he smells so good

getting off from shampoo and fabric softener is not what you expected but it definitely makes you clench

you both know he’s not gonna last for more than six minutes and that’s ok

that’s a lot of long-held frustration released into that condom

and a lot of passion put into how he puts his guitar fingers to work on your clit afterwards

jimi ‘lee’ hendrix has arrived

oh yeah mark, you fucking treat, fuck it up

that way you won’t last long either since you guide his finger tips to your favorite spot and the motherfucker completely goes for it

“like this, like, um?”

and he goes off with the wrist

oh shit

it’s all kept so short and simple and you’re on the oldest mustard-colored studio couch that ever existed but mark lee is mark fucking lee nothing can obstruct his quality

like this guy has some serious skills with the angles

that orgasm is gonna get some moans you didn’t know you were capable of out of you

never wasting time, that guy is he

mark definitely fucks like he raps. fast and good

you cool down together looking each other in the eyes, forehead to forehead, for like fifteen minutes, and you give each other little chaste kisses all over your faces and he melts every time

your little rendezvous was definitely so needed 

you ask if you can bring some vibes to play around with and a watermelon next time

you don’t have to ask twice

mark is so damn happy

and the timing was right

straightforward and spontaneous. that definitely works well with mark

no complaints, you go home feeling comfortably refreshed. you’ve told him he could tell the others or wait to do it, this is up to his comfort because he is shy

neither happens

after just one glance at him the next day while the group is doing a photoshoot

baekhyun already knows mark slept with you 

he just knows

and makes a loud “ohh wow, you did it” noise

ten takes two only glances to understand what’s going on too

mark nods and the whole group is highstrung for the entire day

like a hive of bees oh yes

kai is massively proud of raising mark so well but also really surprised

unlike taemin who calmly advised mark on many things in advance

guess where mark’s fingering skills originate from

he took some secret pointers from the king 

taeyong is shook at his rap buddy’s singleminded grit to just spontaneously ask you

while baekhyun...

is keeping it together repeating the anti-jealousy mantra you gave him in his mind

“jealousy means to get closer jealousy means to get closer jealousy means to get closer jealousy means to get closer....“

it makes him realize oh god he really wants to be inside of you badly as well

you ain’t dumb, you see his change of tone from cute to sexy in the group chat even if he might not notice

baekhyun is trying extra hard to make you react to him

he posts so many cute selfies with kissy faces

needless to say taeyong’s time slot gets postponed to next thursday while you visit baekhyun this evening

it works for taeyong because he still needs to think some things through

the news overwhelmed him a little and he is shy about meeting up but that’s not a problem for you

and it’s better to get together with your mochi sooner because you both know there’s a lot of banging to do

like seriously

your mood tells you that candy’s on the menu today

oh yeah. it’s time to be all over your clingy lil’ honey bunny 

there’s not much endless wooing involved it goes to the point very fast after you arrive at his home

you just wanna stop pretending and fuck like animals and see his brain melt from it

remember how baekhyun once said he doesn’t fancy nice girls

that’s what he meant by that

mattress earthquake

he wants you fully riled up with arousal and addicted to touching and grabbing him

yeah baekhyun gets off on your desire

that’s not hard to accomplish when he makes big puppy eyes and puts his tongue on your neck

with that gomez addams shit... kissing up your arm and then popping off as soon as he gets there

congrats morticia

here is a man who can handle ya

he’s being so slobbery and moany about it that it knocks the breath out of you 

that shit is so good

baekhyun is not just a pro at giving head my friend it’s also giving neck

and unlike mark, may god have mercy on you, baekhyun keeps on going and going and kissing and kissing and he wants to lick up all of you so bad 

we know how needy and stamina-heavy this fella is

baekhyun is super m’s most insatiable member by fucking far

he’s like just give it to me and you’re like ok here we go

this guy is burning up oh god

that’s an evening of ten thousand positions, fearless cumplay, and a lot of face-sitting

super m’s most unleashed tongue right here

thank god you worked on your fitness with xuxi otherwise you couldn’t do this

he’s moaning in some harmonic scales or something it’s a whole concert

baekhyun is fully at it with you in every room of his flat with his whole neck and underarms looking mighty veiny

yeah he even carries you around to make it short and simple he’s one impatient bun

he can lift up sehun bridal style so no worries

mochi is smol and thin but he won’t drop you i promise

he’s fueled by horny boyfriend hormones and wants to give you the greatest night of all nights

and hit all the amazing spots

baekhyun aims to make your pussy lips throb and fall completely in love with him

and the bridge of his nose if you get what i’m saying

he’s also versatile in his clothing choices

if you say keep your nerdy glasses on, oh yeah they stay on

just a little challenge to see if you can ride him hard enough to see them fall off

and that dick is not some extra long lasso mark lee calibre

so he can really bend it more and thrust with ease at many angles

talking about mark

he regrets not asking you earlier but you tell baekhyun that this way was much better because you unceremoniously skipped to the fucking instead of messing around

if it wasn’t for mark’s courage to break the ice even with a choppy sentence 

you’d still be awkwardly looking each other in the eyes while munching pizza

all hail mark lee nervous legend

this way, baekhyun goes all out with fewer restraint and the burden of being first with making the impression that comes with it

we all know he’s too self-conscious for his own mochi good so that’s a better way to start out

this way baekhyun will have sex with you until he’s passed out on his bed

knocking him out like that might as well become your favorite hobby

even minutes after your tongue still feels like it’s knotted together with his honestly, the muscle memory is kicking in

and this must be the most dick thrusts you’ve ever gotten in one night

baekhyun really wants to be all inside you, make you feel him

if the condom broke at least his baby will be easy to identify from day one

it’ll come out and belt a perfect G#5

he gave it all my god you stopped counting the times you came your pussy is just dripping wet it feels crazy

and his voice has become all raspy i—

that was baekhyun’s hardest vocal run yet i swear

the contraception shelf in the convenience store next to his house is close to empty

but there’s no need to buy more

what you two perverts have been up to is enough for comfortably going through 10 years of celibacy

baekhyun is content and sleeps like a baby

you hold your bun for like two hours afterwards and never want to let him go

you are as wobbly as taeyong after getting a head pat from you

and the most well-kissed girl in this city tonight

both sets of lips

what a smoochy boyfriend

you even get the chance to jerk baekhyun off in his half-sleep after he wakes up and asks you to put your hand in his pants

guess who opens his mouth very wide to lick his own semen off your fingers with some really obscene noises

it’s his royal nastiness byun baekhyun 

who sucks your tiddies to drift back into sleep again

with his hands in your pants

god bless this man

the group chat is sending 👀 emojis all the way throughout the night

your boys know love is in the air

they’re loosening up the timing is right again

you send cute smiling emojis 

a bunch of “ahs” and “ohs” come through via voicemail

and lucas even writes: “so who’s next? 😳”

damn

you reply boldly: “the one asking that”

the group chat becomes a buzzing beehive again

from which you extract that kai is also very interested while ten, taeyong and taemin prefer waiting a little more

but this time you don’t switch time slots since you’ll meet xuxi on monday already 

kai wants to set up something nice and prepare the catering and whatnot (alright you rich man)

so it’s gonna be wednesday as usual with him

so far so good that’s the plan

sunday being taemin day, you get together to read and paint and listen to music

you feel like just doing some sensual kissing with him and taemin is very down

yeah baby he is the kissing king, taemin is hot stuff, he knows exactly what he’s doing, those lips are the pillows at the gates of heaven

losing your mind is a staple when you do that with him

just making out on the couch surrounded by the nicest arrangement of pot plants you’ve ever seen while it rains completely relaxes you and the serotonin is off the charts

he holds you so gently and tastes so good

what is it, rose water or something like that

he even put on his coziest sweater so you’ll love leaning against him

TL;DR taemin is the biggest fucking romantic in the history of SM

that was so seductive you’ll be dreaming about it

applause for lee taemin please

perfect contrasting programme: just hours later

yeah here it goes now

monday starts with xuxi stripping more than he usually does 

at the makeshift gym in his room while he’s on the treadmill

with his hair freshly dyed the most himbo shade of blonde ever

and yeah that’s blonde with an e because yukhei is too sexy to be called a blond. what an ugly word to look at

he’s a blondé

so that’s nice

he’s so dtf you just skip the workout 

time for lubed condoms.

i don’t have to tell you that you literally jump on him 

or that you’ll be dealing with super m’s singlemost biggest equipment

he doesn’t even have to drive it home an inch by himself you’re already riding him

he can’t handle all that gear in the first place

because how do you even develop a technique with such an unrealistic dick

hell how do you even exist like that

so it’s clear who’s taking the lead

all he has to do is work that body but it sort of happens on its own

himbo autopilot

you are going hard and chaotic on this man

xuxi doesn’t even know what hit him

he’s so vocal and excited 

you fuck him while he holds you up, get down on several gym benches, have him bend you forward at the bathroom sink... 

...and you attend business in ten’s room on a desk and window sill

because it’s the most silent there and doesn’t disturb xiaojun’s beauty sleep

ten has discreetly ushered you there and preoccupies himself in the kitchen with the cats

he knows how the game is played

either floor ‘em all or always watch out for others

MVP

but you are secretly wondering what ten is plotting because he has some serious self-control and observation skills

given how tidy his room is... whatever his plans are you can look forward to it

xuxi is definitely suffering from your heavy duty cock destruction in the meantime while being in heaven at the same time

that dick is worn out and dripping 

so much bouncing is even gonna make the biggest boy lose it

milking that orgasm out of him is gonna be so gratifying yum

the deep and defeated moans, my god he really surrenders to the pleasure

wow that was almost as to-the-point as studio sex with mark

no idle talk in nct huh

you clean each other all exhausted and then gobble up three bowls of noodles each

then sleep for two hours in each other’s arms

then do a second round because this guy is really getting you going and yukhei wants to live this monday to the fullest

like this man gives you previously unknown levels of energy

must be the blonde hair. it does sexy things when yukhei is twitching

this time it’s a dick blowing festival

oh yeah

the type where you’re so sloppy with your head bops, he doesn’t even know where to put his hands and needs to think emergency thoughts

oh yeah big dicks make for some nice slurpy noises that sound really plump you know what i mean

he’s gonna realize very soon you do this shit for your own entertainment

and get all kinds of squeaks and faces out of him

only little pauses help him keep up the stamina so he asks you to pull off for a bit every two minutes or so

he has to look elsewhere and distract his mind with thinking about washing the dishes

girl... your tongue has this man sweating major bullets

you’re big on the corruption kink are you

once again 

xuxi is gonna be so shaken and pass the fuck out from cumming

and he thought he was a horny guy

his soul must have left his body and that scalp is probably dead

but bleaching was worth it (he looks like a sleeping angel now)

not to mention banging all over the wayv dorm

ten got a preview of what’s expecting him

not that he doesn’t know he reads you well

lucas promises to return the oral favor next monday and finally collapses entirely in the living room wearing only boxers

nothing new for wayv, great sight for you

not a single workout routine has exhausted xuxi this much

he needs 10 hours of sleep to reboot

“she’s so wild 😲😂😍” is gonna be what he’ll summarize it as in the group chat later

first big boy taken down

the second one follows

wednesday is right around the corner 

oh yes

kai definitely goes off with the preparation you are not ready for this spectacle

he redecorated his entire kitchen and bathroom to perfection with flowers, lanterns, dim light, petals, expensive fabrics draped from the ceiling, and there’s a great view on night time seoul

you can tell he’s best friends with taemin

i mean they’re the greatest entertainers of their time of course their taste is great

always going the extra mile

the black, sheer shirt with a deep cleavage that kai put on is nothing short of a treat

is that a lace choker he’s wearing

and his hair is pushed back lord have mercy

you get pretty weak in the knees at that

the catering leaves nothing to be desired either. a full 3-course sicily-style italian meal with 100% organic ingredients and beautiful basil and thyme garnishings

to set the mood afterwards jongin does what he does best

don’t tell me you didn’t see this one coming

just a chair for you, some music, and him

is this like a whole damn private concert?

he has prepared an entire setlist to thrill you with selected styles of dance

even a rendition of salsa, swing, and tango argentino

i’m telling you...

if kim jongin moves his body for you like that you’ll be fucking hooked and honored and not believe your eyes

what a feast

prepare for a serious case of dropped jaw

and jongin being an absolute daredevil dancing incrementally close to your chair

he incorporates all these little moments of skinship

where he strokes your hair, your jaw, or takes your hands

while at the same time he’s completely destroying it on the dancefloor

with those scorching hips and how he works it on the carpet right in front of you

you’re about to fucking melt

what a time to be alive

the sheer shirt’s buttons are holding onto dear life as do his pants

kai’s movements are becoming extremely ecstatic

what a fucking lapdance 2.0

men have clearly evolved otherwise this wouldn’t be happening

kai dances like a king on a stage but jongin? is god-like when he dances with just one person as the audience

shiit

and because he’s very nervous

he work particularly hard to ace it

in his mind he’s already underneath you judging by how he’s moving

...you can definitely fancy a luscious private concert each wednesday

and for designated activities in the bathroom

he even made a whole 5-hour playlist of the finest songs

so he can make you grind on top of him

don’t tell me kai isn’t the master of courting

king of effort

i don’t have to tell you that this is gonna be the most sensual night you’ve ever had

kai will get to know your body very, very well

those hips never stop do they

the fact that thursday is baekhyun day right after this?

wow aren’t you exhausted

the orgasms just seamlessly continue huh

everything goes on like that 

friday you have a toy-filled, passionate evening at the studio with mark who’s doing the most 

let’s say mark just has good ‘vibes’ indeed

this almost gets as messy as your first time with lucas

have fun cleaning up that couch, canada

what a sex marathon

if you don’t have your period

there’s always a lot of action going on 

or actually. you do catch a break for the weekend

saturday you bake delicious, pistacio and pecan-crusted sticky buns with taeyong 

who also shows you the new fledgelings that have hatched in his apartment

so adorable

sunday you endlessly make out with taemin in the sheets who has of course heard of jongin putting on a show

so he dances for you as well and even does the hands-tied criminal choreo in an especially luscious rendition (aka extra heavy breathing and grinding on the floor, and doing splits that almost rip his pants)

oh yes my love

nothing really happens afterwards you just have dinner completely flustered

if lee taemin dances, sex becomes redundant and doesn’t compare anymore

but really now

the slow burn is unbearable with him for fuck’s sake

taemin knows how to work up the seduction bit by bit

you basically masturbate all evening after returning to your house

god. what to do with this guy

on monday you ravage yukhei’s dick and get all that head 

xuxi is a chaotic fella but he keeps his promises

plus you get the best full-body massage of your life

and for the first time pull out your phone to basically livestream yourself riding him

so the whole chat can watch for five minutes

yep. you learned that courage thing from mark lee

the camera work is obviously subpar but the video definitely has maximum effect

kai and baekhyun stream their reaction right alongside your broadcast

“woah woah oh my god oh my god!!”

everyone’s freaking out, everyone stops whatever they’re doing, everyone is glued to their screens, they love your body moving

you’re having a blast 

especially when you stream another round an hour later and lucas holds the camera now

his arm is perfect for that by the way

strong and stable and high up in the air

so you can do your thing on that fat dick with a bonus of the sexiest xuxi moans ever

that deep but soft tone... yukhei really got a perfect groaning voice huh

after getting steamy for almost ten minutes, you get some great close-ups of your pussy after having yukhei pull out mid-romp

because that gape is for the gods

don’t kid yourself with a dick like that inside you’ll be opening a little wider

it looks and feels even better with lucas tracing his long fingers inside of it

with the closeup zooming in even more while he’s putting his thumb on your clit 

mmh that’s good stuff

six very shaky boys are sitting in front of their phones right now being able to look um very deeply inside of you

baekhyun is basically frozen to a statue on the reaction stream and salivates nonstop it’s just running down his neck at this point

his wettest dreams are right in front of him

stretched out pussy all juicy and swollen? baekhyun’s lifeblood. he’s seeing god 

he turns up the brightness of his phone to maximum so he can see every little detail 

remember. this guy loves to be inside of you so obsessively he wants to pay rent to live in there

so he’s appreciating an HD view of his favorite place, really deep and really pulsing and really soaked

yukhei has slathered you in lube and really pushed apart your muscles very gently, no abrasion, you relaxed so nicely around him

it’s feeling good as fuck

kai who’s watching right next to baekhyun just stares with big eyes

every injury he ever got while dancing is suddenly healed 

he’s a new man his spine has put itself together his legs are reborn

taeyong almost falls off his chair when he tunes in

he’s that bewildered

he just types a big WOW and a wall of blushing emojis

the explicit songs he’s been listening to and whatever he’s been rapping about recently are nothing in comparison to this

finally someone climbed up to taeyong’s level of nastiness

and he thought he’d never find someone on eye level

secretly he loves the nice view but he won’t admit how much

meanwhile he will rewatch this over and over for the whole week at least five times a day

and then there’s taemin

| adorable 😊🤗🎀 6v6

| can you put the camera a bit closer again 👉👈

| and turn on the flash if that’s ok 😳

| ah thank you 💟

i don’t know what taemin has seen or heard or experienced in his life and what made him this way but damn he loves that graphic shit

turning on the flash makes even yukhei’s jaw drop and rub your clit even faster

he’s damn proud he could make your pussy open up to him this way as he should be 

cuz he’s really been improving his Big Cock Techniques (BCT)

mark doesn’t write anything but he’s online and streaming so yeah he’s jerking off

with two hands

baekhyun is typing how much he loves the wet sounds and how great the fingering action is

and he’s damn right. telepathy 

that’s your favorite pervert right there yeehaw

in the meantime yukhei’s brain is empty he’s just smiling bright and enjoying the moment and the attention and your body

ten is basically next door because this is the fucking wayv dorm 

you can hear him choke on his coffee and whisper ‘oh my fucking god, oh shit’ to himself

the phone almost topples into the sheets while lucas is putting all those rubs and circles into your clit but the audio is already telling the boys to watch very closely anyway because here it comes

taeyong is probably falling apart by now given how he’s posting a couple fragmented sentences that you try to decipher on yukhei’s phone

until you get close and take up filming yourself again 

so yukhei can make a video with his own phone as well

yep that’s two cameras on you by now not just one

xuxi’s been such a steadfast babe 

and he gets to see the fruits of his work. for one, just how much of an imprint he left with his cock inside you 

and second how hard he can make you cum now

those big fingers are magic on you

taemin gets all the closeups he ever needed from your camera because you hit the zoom even more

yukhei starts kissing you twice

not as carefully as he often would

it’s the really wet and passionate version this time

he films your lower faces as good as he can

those big fucking lips 

they never fail to make you get the hots

they’re really made to do all this are they

his tongue nips into you with extra saliva on board

you suck it into your own mouth and mix it with yours, and gather some more

and slip your tongue above his in return

yukhei makes sure you can hear him swallowing all that warm runny spit and moans into your mouth

guess who just blew one big juicy load into the condom

and he’s not even inside of you

jesus christ yukhei

looks like french kissing is his orgasm button 

you start sucking on his tongue when it slides back between your lips and you make them really tight and puckering

the noise is so delicious

yukhei shoots the rest of his semen into the condom

you go even harder on him, the kiss gets really deep

kai and baekhyun are literally jumping up and down on their beds by now

taemin and mark are sending star-eyed emojis

ten is definitely beating the meat next door

yukhei’s hand is massaging incessantly between your legs

he makes you feel. so. good.

when he retreats from the kiss you’re ready

you can hardly keep the phone stable in your palm

yukhei also points his camera back at your pussy again

and makes sure to catch every contraction

you know an orgasm is good when you’re going all “oh... ohh...”

even taeyong goes online to stream his reaction because you cum so beautifully

he’s actually crying and can’t close his mouth he can’t believe what he’s seeing

your pussy lips are so sloppy and stretched apart and twitching and you make sure the camera catches every bit

it takes almost half a minute until your muscles calm

you tell yukhei to clean it up with those plump lips of his

baekhyun and taemin are violently agreeing with thousands of “YESS EAT UP!!!” and “yes!! 😊♥︎🌹” text bubbles in the chat

your guys are so cute do you realize that

in order to have both hands free, lucas ends his video, puts his phone aside, and is already licking you up like a whole bowl of whipped cream

you keep on streaming on your own phone and brush the hair out of his face

the best part is catching yukhei’s tongue winding between your lips and then spoiling your pussy with big kisses very very slowly as not to overstimulate you

he’s such a fast learner he’s doing it really well

once you’re satisfied and cool off, you stroke the back of his neck and his favorite boyfriend duties are officially on pause

so he can go to pull off the condom and clean himself up, and get ready for bed after a quick mini snack

while you blow kisses into the camera, flirt with all your babes while they flirt back and even bow to you

and film your pussy all swollen and licked up but slowly closing a little bit again, ever so slightly

ten sends two little black hearts and a little “that was the most amazing thing i’ve ever seen thank you 😽”

you make sure taemin gets an extra close view of your clit and taeyong is making high-pitched squealing noises in his reaction video stream

mark goes like “yea that’s the spot!”

kai has joined baekhyun with the mouth and saliva action, they’re both licking their lips all over the place and make lewd lusty faces

they’re literally sucking and eyefucking your pussy through the camera bitch they want it so goddamn bad

oh to have their mouths on you right now to come down from your high and chill

you tell everyone how much you miss them and how badly you want them to be here

and how you want to feel all of them all over, on your skin and inside you

the chat is full of yearning and horny crying emojis now

yukhei helps you clean up the rest while you text how it felt with mark and baekhyun because they wanna know more

you talk about how yukhei’s girth is always rubbing that one spot inside and his breathing changes when it does

and you say you really loved their reactions

the members promise to be careful and discrete when they re-watch the stream and ten also says that if you don’t want it to stay in the chat some day you should never hesitate to delete it

you say no problem boys you should know me inside out, just remember to use head-phones when yukhei starts slurping at the 01:27 min mark

taeyong and mark are losing it at your puns

then you have a glass of water taller than yukhei’s dick and basically dance to the bathroom

lucas talks to the boys with his big ole smile in his pyjamas while you’re busy

oh god he is so shy

but very very blissed out. it really takes only two things to make this man happy. big plates, twitchy pussy.

a truly simple man. you like that

kai is definitely evolving from his teasing yukhei agenda in the meantime

he is sending thumbs up emojis instead of raised eyebrow ones

you lay down in xuxi’s big embrace and say goodnight to your boys

yukhei buries his nose in your hair, and kisses you on the forehead so innocently, taeyong melts in his little video square on screen

taemin is a big fan as well

he’s living true to his “explicit shit and romance” life motto isn’t he

you ask if everyone was enjoying themselves

big positive reactions all over the chat

you coo how you adore them all so much and want more of things like this where everyone is involved

eight people are going to bed very happy today

yukhei waves and baekhyun goes offline as well, as does taeyong who’s beaming

end stream

it was a masterpiece

that mark needs to recover from the very most, his entire bed is full of used tissues

and basically

over the next few hours the chat is losing their minds over and over again

everyone can’t stop gushing and telling you what their favorite part was

kai says how turned on you were was making him hard all night

ten enjoyed the wild kissing part and how wet everything was

naughty boy taemin keeps on talking about how — i quote — your insides are the best ever!! while sending flower emojis

your stream has unleashed a gigaton of sexual energy

and that basically goes on and on

until tuesday arrives

oof 

today’s the day

you know that ten is up to something 

except the little hearts and kiss comment

he hasn’t written much in the chat

oh shit oh shit what is he planning

he truly is a pisces

you know that some epic stuff is about to go down since the cats are with yangyang 

and — what

there’s a large canvas in his room with a piece of cloth to cover it

lord have mercy

he’s bringing the big guns

ten will even hold a little speech on how he got inspiration two weeks ago

only to proceed to unveil the art very shyly

it’s an elaborate pencil drawing standing about as tall as him

immaculately sketched in a realistic way

have a guess what he’s been drawing

exactly right it’s an erotic depiction of you

laying on your back, thighs spread, head thrown back

and to make it mysterious you see more of the legs rather than the crotch area

so whatever or who is giving you pleasure is entirely up to you to imagine to your liking

it’s more about how the person he drew feels lust rather than the onlooker. he drew this for your own enjoyment

he did that very cleverly and classily 

this canvas will be your utmost treasure and get such an intimate spot in your home

it doesn’t take very long until you’re mounting him and get those hips moving in a circle

ten is just full of surprises

you ask if you can photograph the drawing and upload it to the chat

ten is like ohhh!

but why not, now that he thinks about it. he secretly likes praise and visibility for his drawings so much

the post is definitely a success 

lots of exclamation marks and reaction memes for three hours straight

but who would’ve thought otherwise

ten is just massively talented, always on point

and hits the right nerve with his line of work

as your pussy can attest

yukhei is gonna tease in the chat that he heard you in the dorm and that it sounded mega hot wink wink wink

ten writes:

| my tongue hurts 

| let’s do it again next week

| i feel inspired to draw more as well

the chat explodes with hype for another two hours

multiple members come up with their own artistic takes on you

on wednesday kai presents a feral dance he choreographed for the whole morning. showing a representation of what you are to him and what he feels for you

very beautiful

on thursday baekhyun gifts you a deliberately humorous doodle titled mochi mama in the style of i dunno, probably picasso on crack

you have not seen anything like it

it’s gonna make you laugh in sad hours for many days to come

talk about come

baekhyun will have his hands busy in and on you all night

he wants to feel mama mochi and please you and make you smile

try not to climax challenge: failed several times

on friday mark blasts a song he wrote about you as soon as you put your hand bag down in the studio

100% of the lyrics are about how sexy and charming and special you are to him and how infatuated he is and how much he thinks about you all the time and how much you knock him off his feet, and how he has the biggest hots for you, jesus christ

that mark lee canada flow wants to make you fucking nut right then and there

the fandom just got his lit mixtape and he’s already working on another one i guess he sure has enough nsfw inspiration for it

all the more reasons to cum hard on his dick tonight

and make sweet love to that sexy body because mark lee isn’t the only one with the hots

then comes saturday

taeyong day

the tension is rising

you’re at his place

the sweet boo comes to put some chirping fledgelings into a towel on your lap as usual

there’s a big crispy lasagna baking in the oven, dripping with cheese and sauce with the most full-bodied herbal mix ever

damn tasty 

gordon ramsay would rate this particularly well on twitter

honestly man

we all know gordon ramsey would like taeyong’s dishes

the evening passes as it always does

so he didn’t jump on the bandwagon that’s interesting

it’s almost as if the stream didn’t happen or anything

just as you expected

taeyong doing his own thing and being just very consistent makes him so sexy and desirable to you it’s hard to explain

you just like his style of going about things you know

he’s very receptive to your impulses

you figure it’s up to you to make some steps

so when he opens the fridge to pull out a self-made, perfectly swirly vanilla-chocolate vortex pudding that’s just at the right temperature, you can’t help but hit on him like the world is ending 

but as you learned from taeyong’s example: your way

you ask him to open his mouth and maneuver spoon after spoon of pudding into it for him to deliciously savor it

giving him compliments on always making your day along with that

that bowl is empty very fast my loves

and taeyong very happy

oh yeah he was enjoying that

with his eyes closed

oh fuck

the sexual tension could rip the air in half like a mark verse

you decide to sit down on his lap all nonchalant and finish your own pudding... more than suggestively

taeyong is basically holding his breath at this point he’s a puddle

you tell him he can put his hands on your waist if he wants to

no answer needed his fingers are already on their way

you can hear how his heart is approaching a techno music BPM

at this point all you can do anymore is lean in to whisper if he likes to go to the bedroom with you

he can keep the apron on

taeyong tastes deliciously of pudding aye

you roll around in the sheets kissing so heavily

this is pure indulging you just feel how you’re sleeping with a chef

who happens to have the veiniest dick of all time

you’re definitely filled up well

sliding up and down on him deliciously for twenty minutes

really slowly and hugging each other tightly

and saying romantic things

that’s the good life

by the end of the evening the group chat gets a picture of taeyong’s world class lasagna 

and a ‘very random’ shaky picture of your hand in his hair

which baekhyun instantly comments as:

“now tyong knows how great you taste as well 🤓😁🤗“

yukhei agrees wholeheartedly and ten starts making baby don’t stop puns

kai is totally in love with the quality food 

baekhyun voices his interest in making more pictures of that kind with you. you know, hand in the hair, no big deal

kai says hurry up with it hyung, all the hair dye makes you balder every minute

baekhyun reprises his doodling and now draws a couple

it’s mama mochi with byun baldhyun

“this will be the next selca“

glorious

you’re having a damn good time

but later you feel something is going on

the whole week passes and taeyong seems to be brooding

next saturday he has a hard time expressing himself when he comes to your home 

you ask if he’s not comfortable having more sex or if he struggles with the relationship setup

taeyong says it’s not that but can’t explain any further

you go on a whim and ask if it’s a confession he has on his mind

bingo

“taeyong... if you think i’ll judge you for something. remember we’re only doing this since a couple weeks. it’s hard to know how the person really reacts if you don’t know each other inside out“

he is still hesitant

you ask him if it’s something taboo

“yeah...”

you thought so. taeyong is the least basic person you know along with taemin

guess why these two are saved for last my dear readers

you tell him that how he’s in his own lane is what you appreciate him for in the first place, it’s why you’re here with him, you love your duckling chef so much

if he wants a different kind of sex that’s perfectly him

he looks relieved and understood hearing that

and confesses that yeah... he wants to go a little kinkier with you

now you know why taeyong was acting with so much restraint

and put all of his feelings and sensuality into food pretty much

in fact the kinky sex has already started whether you noticed or not

indirectly. as in, the dynamic

truth is he wants to be a service sub

oh yeah lemme introduce you to some new things

service subs like to really cater to their dominants and fulfill their every wish not just in bed, but around the house as well

and there’s even more to it as you will soon discover talking to him about it

an apron is only the start

in case you have been living under a rock

taeyong’s duality is nuts 

he’s a completely shy mega pervert

it’s not a secret that this guy wants hardcore bdsm torture sex

you letting all that aggression loose on him for fucking sport

and being cold to him

with a bit of soft domme action as the perfect balance 

yep 

he wants you to take him out and take care of him at the same time

he’s perfectly aware he’s among the freakier and more deprived members

even ten is just casually freaky and just open for a lot of things. taeyong is deliberate

and pretty deep in the femdom community as far as his browser history is concerned

we all know assertive partners are his thing

but he’s afraid he’ll get you into something that’s a lot of responsibility

you say mister i’m familiar with your interests 

my dear you never made them hard to guess

you tell him it’s no problem for you to give it to him raw

you’ll be doing disgusting things to him that sexy face will straight up drown 

did you know?

our dear boy taeyong loves it when you spit in his mouth and do virgin roleplay

if he asks you to break him don’t be surprised

he wants to release control completely

he goes by all the rules

and i guarantee. when he comes along your dominatrix mood is gonna skyrocket he just brings that shit out in people

his mere naked body is just... how not to go nuts on him how he wants it

long story short tied up taeyong head to toe ends up immortalized as a vertical photograph

the group chat is overwhelming your notifs with wide-eyed emojis and all caps

amping up the game a little more each day are we

without even trying. hell, this just happened

where this is going is gonna be fun

sunday goes down with you grinding yourself all over taemin but you’re both clothed

you grab the back of his neck to lean in for kisses over and over and over

yes kisses are key

if not the favorite thing he does

let this sink in. if taemin overwhelms a little kitty with a hundred thousand smooches, just how kissy is this guy gonna be 

and have fun teasing his erection through his pants

lee taemin a squirmy mess? hell yeah

in classic fashion he will spend the most time of the evening on his knees getting slapped around in several blindfolds, harnesses, and wrist ties

his fantasy finally came true

i repeat what taemin has been dreaming of is reality

thank god for taeyong having you second guess his private tastes. otherwise you would not be on your dom grind now

taemin even goes as far as ordering lingerie for your encounters — to wear himself because he’s taemin

satin and silk blouses he already has in his wardrobe so there’s no shortage

i don’t have to tell you that you can spend hours grinding on his cock in a room full of candles while taemin is in head-to-toe bondage

that’s his idea of a good time and hell you are really treated to perfect eye candy, taemin’s hotness will bring your pleasure to a new level

the group chat will definitely love your photography taken from your sessions

taemin is just an utter no-compromise kinda man to make kinky love with. everything is planned he’s never settling for less than a perfect evening

where both of you really experience the ultimate satisfaction from treating your bodies to the best of clothes and toys and scenarios

give me an amen for taemin being your sunday guy because this legend of a man is your personal church

and his discography is the bible

and cum play is the baptizing my friend

so yeah huh

every day you can look forward to. monday to sunday

and not a day goes by without someone in the chat reminiscing the steamy video you did with lucas

you end up repeating what you wished that day

for everyone to be with you

so you could feel all of them 

and you say maybe it’s time to arrange something 

you’ve gotten to know each of them personally and intimately by now

and integrated them into your personal life

hell when you wake up the first thing you see is ten’s drawing across your bed

or baekhyun’s funny mama mochi art on your phone background

and you start your day literally selecting from a pile of taeyong’s freshly washed and ironed clothing stacks in your wardrobe

sitting at your breakfast table with a bouquet of flowers that kai and jongin brought you

eating food you bought together with lucas

listening to music that mark made especially for you

they’re all in your life together so it’s the right time to make some heated love together

the chat is all down you don’t even have to ask any further

baekhyun volunteers to go about his leader duty to organize the best possible venue and best possible date

cause with superm things do go 100

he asks what kind of atmosphere you have in mind

you say hard and nasty and kinky

which will definitely make the chat interested

and baekhyun was about to rent a huge modern art penthouse in gangnam

you say no need to go that expensive. you just need a large bed, no paparazzi, and an area where you can be loud. sculptures you could care less about

you have yukhei on your team, so that’s a living sculpture already 

it needs a safe haven essentially, with a dark and lusty atmosphere would be so nice

ten steps in saying he has the exact spot you’re looking for 

he has a friend who runs a declining night club in the suburbs, with some pretty attractive and grungy backrooms with plenty of space to fuck

yeah a club is exactly what you’re looking for that’s a good idea

it’s closed on monday so baekhyun and ten arrange a rental just then

of course way in the evening

with the guarantee of nobody else around

baekhyun knows how this rigged game rolls he says they need the club to perform a dance practice, overnight stay, and shooting a music video

which is only a half-lie

not “hey we are super m planning an orgy wanna invite dispatch and tell lee soo man”

regardless ten’s friend is pretty chill and indifferent anyways

and baekhyun’s money is doing the talk

you’ll be guaranteed to be left by yourself

monday evening it is. 

you already have a whole bunch of fantasies to let loose on your boys

and put it all in the chat

yo it’s called brainstorming and it sure has brain in it

you discuss

and it goes down next week 

you encouraged the members to wear what they feel best in, no dress code, no comparison thinking. you want to meet them like you got to know them, each in their favorite expression

taeyong dons a mass onslaught of fetish gear underneath a trench coat, including a fancy collar, lots of hairspray

and latex gloves. shit he’s a freak

baekhyun puts on the coziest clothes he finds and his smol sneakers but they are secretly expensive, his hair is curly and big, he put on a nice scent

kai can’t help but go black suit and lace underneath, you know him

bleach blonde yukhei gets out the tight white tee and smug jeans

creative genius ten goes all out designing his own fashion (!) with paint, he puts on sexy af glasses and goes for his signature ‘cleavage down to the belly’ look underneath a bomber jacket

mark goes for a casual suit but make it swag, with a sleeveless top underneath, yeah those mark arms go crazy 

taemin — picks his most dazzling silver outfit that looks like a rendition of mermaid scales, pointed shoes, princely hair, famous i’m so fabulous

and it’s already starting out sexy in the car before you even arrive 

because this is all gonna be glorious from the first second to the last

baekhyun and kai will do the driving

you have not one but two classy and sexy chauffeurs you hear me

yeah in their shiny black german cars with those sleek comfortable seats

baekhyun, taeyong, ten and lucas are a team

and then you get kai, mark, and taemin, including your group luggage because such a trip needs a lot of things to pack trust me

you’re with team kai on the way to the club and with team baekhyun the way back 

it’s already lit and steamy on your way there

nothing better than getting in the mood held by the greek god arms of none other than lee taemin with mark lee assisting

you’re entirely wrapped up in kissing taemin so passionately, his tongue melts into your mouth like the finest chocolate

thinking about how you were making out last week gets you going even more

as does feeling up his bulge, ugh taemin is so sensual

mark sitting on your other side being eager to attend to your thighs, your waist, your back, your hands, your hair, your stomach

yep

yukhei has been telling him about the wonders of a whole-body massage since you like it so much

mark gets his hands all over you to provide a sexy caress and wow he’s doing it well, giving everything the perfect kind of attention, always asking if you want more of this or more of that

mark loves everything about you and he knows how to make your anticipation become even more intense by dedicating time to all areas generously

you feel like he’s worshipping you head to toe

it’s the way to get turned on

mark has great soft hands and knows your best spots by now

that’s exactly why it was a good idea to sleep with the members individually at first

you could figure it all out in detail and each member could show their style of doing things, and you could teach them

mark has become an expert in skinship

while he’s kissing into your neck whispering revering things to you nobody else would understand

they’re intimate, spicy details from your studio lessons

with a romantic twist even because mark is giving you his entire arsenal, the entire palette

“i’ve been thinking about you so often...”

with jongin driving carefully and taking the lesser frequented roads 

kai is really keeping it together

the maknae backseat party is faithfully photographed by mark who sends it to the other team after taemin and you select the best shots, giggling

your favorite is a bird’s view of your cleavage with taemin kissing right between your breasts, slightly below the sternum

his hair is softly splayed over the area

taeyong and ten reply with heart eyes in the chat

on you go kissing and touching

taemin is so gentle with you and easily accepts your wild licks and bites, leans his head back so you have perfect access to his neck

by the time you arrive at the club’s back entrance, he’s marked up and his lips are mighty used

ruined neck, ruined mouth

taemin’s favorite two accessories to walk into a club with 

including a hard-on

with mark and kai strutting right after, chewing mints

...both getting hard themselves because mark loves your body and jongin has very good ears when it comes to picking up things that happen in the back of his car

and this bitch got a raging libido, so

the best part is everything is prepared

the other team already parked their car there earlier

ten had the keys to every needed lock, showed everyone around, and then baekhyun went into organization overdrive

this is the first time he didn’t clown around to distract from work since debut

if baekhyun ever means serious business... wow

your best boy taeyong has located the perfect backroom that’s shaded inside and neon-lit from the outside

the window’s aren’t particularly low-sitting so that’s a privacy plus

there’s a huge white extra oversized bed with some more great furniture and a sofa landscape

he desinfected everything to a T

and pulled out every utensil you might need from a large black bag

he walked in like he just commited a bank robbery but in reality there’s cutesy pink rope in the bag

oh well

classic taeyong

yukhei sorted and handed out the condoms plus water bottles for everyone

he’s the expert for the basics don’t come at him he’s doing a great job

after you reminding everyone of the safeword 

taemin sits down with you on the bed and you keep kissing

keeping up the flow right there

//

you beckon your lil’ adorable mochi who’s been dying for skinship

baekhyun is so turned on he wastes no time joining

still fully clothed while the other members are about to undress

you actually like baekhyun huddling up against you in his oversized hoodie it’s cute

so hey, change in plans

everyone ditches the protocol and climbs on the bed only without their shoes 

lot of ties and belts to pull them closer to you

you bring all of them together on the bed now

the feeling of having everyone around you is so electrifying, you have to distance from taemin’s seductive lips not to get some kind of adrenaline overdose

jesus this guy is trying to soak your pants like baekhyun forgot to turn off the shower

you get to enjoy five minutes of relaxed massaging from all sides to cool everything down a little

baekhyun and yukhei alternate with kissing you

yum

big plush lips plus a horny tongue

that’s a good combination

kai is definitely setting the pace of how to massage you, and how to move the body while doing so, and what expressions to make 

instead of sitting there awkwardly staring into space

remember? master of courting — that’s kim jongin

even baekhyun follows his example a bit

you’re entering cloud 9 from that whole-body massage

you can tell they’re all dancers. there’s rhythm involved

having the seven of them attend to you at the same time just hits different

that are 14 hands

70 fingers

all in sync with kai’s physical ideas, carefully yet purposefully kneading and stroking 

kai also helps everyone find a good area and makes sure everyone stays away from any precarious or sexy zones

because you’d probably get off from that in the matter of a blink

to be honest you’re already feeling heated you can’t help it

but that’s a good sign you’re definitely feeling this 

and there’s not a single limp dick in this room at this point already

baekhyun being the best people reader all over again manages a seamless transition to some water drinking

so everyone is ready to go

you wish you could do everything at once but decide to get a load of some slow body rolls against you because hell yeah

courting expert kai is sure to oblige, dance god taemin joins right in, and ten completes the holy trinity and hell does he go off

photographer mark on duty again. this moment has to be captured

baekhyun does his mood management magic and encourages ten and taemin to let out their little sounds more

kai he doesn’t have to tell

nor you because you’re already moaning

shit these guys are just too good

these bodies are machines

again bless your xuxi workout sessions

you wouldn’t keep up otherwise

you curse them because your pussy feels creamy way too early

switching to grinding on their bulges is not a better idea because it’s making you even hornier but anyway it’s your favorite activity

yukhei takes time and some effort to get fully hard so that’s a grateful job now

because you can gather yourself

you resort to using your cleavage to stop turning yourself on completely

and then your hands to palm his pants because that’s even more inconspicuous

group sex with superm? hardest early orgasm avoidance challenge EVER

is there some kind of legally accessible viagra for women

there’s no way you could turn yourself off help

you either get the first orgasm out of the way or keep it together to have some suspense in here and see the boys work hard

the decision is clear

time to bring out the toys that taeyong assembled on a table

baekhyun, taemin taeyong and ten are in the down to get tied up in various ways

lucas and kai get blindfolded and get a sexy task from you

slowly humping the mattress just for your viewing pleasure

topless for that matter

no need to ask twice there they go

photographer mark stays free and flexible. it’s always good to have someone outside bondage just in case with such a big group

anyway so you will be busy for sure

the rest of the boys strip down to only their briefs and get a good dose of spanking

ten is definitely moaning the loudest there

taeyong ends up with tied wrists in a prayer position and has his fun getting slapped around by you 

until he’s breathless and smiling to himself with his tongue hanging out

someone got his daily meal of smacking

taemin highly approves 

nobody’s surprised

baekhyun gets a quick and simple upper body rope harness that’s very easy to grip him by

and just to tease him you add some nipple pinches

result: loud baekhyun noises

cute as hell

so that’s how he’s been training himself to reach all those high notes

interesting

taemin, completely naked, has his hands and ankles tied, looking so beautiful all helpless and his cock itching for stimulation

and because taemin’s strange ‘artistic’ kidnapping fantasies that he never stops talking about cannot be ignored he gets a mouth gag for good measure

you know you just roll with their ideas

he’s a simple man that’s all he needs

you decide to put a bigger bondage piece on ten who ends up in a hogtie aka his new favorite place to be in

if there’s one guy who’s flexible like that it’s him

let’s see for how long he can take it

ten likes a challenge

you tell mark exactly what kind of pictures you want of your tied darlings and he’s well-engaged with that task

baekhyun is clinging to you a lot in the meantime

he gets kisses on the mouth 

and your open ear 

because you can tell there’s something on his mind

or rather

his ass is telling him something after you activated it with spanks huh

what does baekhyun want?

baekhyun wants the strap

and the strap he shall get

his time has come

this time the safeword won’t do so tapping yukhei’s thigh is the deal

taeyong’s kinky tool collection has a nice and thick equipment to offer, jet black black straps, jet black dildo, like it’s some kind of secret agent gear

it takes a lot of lube to get it into baekhyun’s tight and tiny ass but what’s new 

he’s not the gaping expert 

and way too busy laughing at the members’ reaction faces so his damn asshole is contracting god dammit

what a brat

next time he gets a toy for prep

only when you grab him by the harness and get into a rhythm, baekhyun throws it back

good boy

kai and xuxi are allowed to take off their blindfolds now because you have a task for them

taeyong’s toy collection features one extra long double-ended dildo, transparent and neither too slim nor too wide

if baekhyun doesn’t have that thing inside his throat i don’t know who

this shit is made for him

and you can tell he’s salivating for that

you tell yukhei to use those big hands to keep baekhyun’s head steady

and oh wonder, his long fingers enclose it perfectly

kai gets to go hard on baekhyun and fulfill his lifetime fantasy that he has had for over a decade now and jerks off to every night:

baekhyun not talking

so while baekhyun’s ass is getting properly stuffed

so is his mouth

kai has no qualms squeezing the toy into baekhyun’s throat a little more roughly

those are some pretty intense choking noises

mark steadily hits the snapshot button

some people go to pound town

baekhyun goes to silicon valley

kai is not afraid to push that thing as far as it can physically go

you’re pleased with how he’s doing it

and with baekhyun’s blowjob abilities anyway

is there a better throat in this industry? probably not 

he’s pretty surprised himself with how much he can take it

that poor ass is getting more than it can handle in the meantime, baekhyun is throbbing and whining

little did you know his prostate is so sensitive and makes his dick leak

such a shame you fully exploit that

you tell yukhei to have baekhyun move his head on his own to get into the rhythm

and get taeyong over to suck on the other end of the toy because oh yeah

let me just say these two are amazing

god bless sm entertainment 

not for any executive decisions

but for their uncanny ability to attract and assemble all the subs

lee taeyong giving head like the rent is due is a sight you need in your life

like everything, he does it roughly and properly

baekhyun is barely even sucking anymore just straight up gagging and seeing stars

because uh-oh here comes a big fat prostate orgasm

mark is clever enough to hit record on his phone

and capture a shaking baekhyun travelling through a whole bunch of universes, at least in his mind 

because that’s how strong his climax is

all he can say is thank you mama mochi and recover from this on his back

kai is satisfied with the result as well because baekhyun managed to not say anything for fifteen minutes

kai never had this much silence in his life

taeyong is still not done sucking the toy off and you let him

never step between a man and his favorite dildo

lucas takes up the task of untying ten who wants to share the other end that’s free now

and mark hands over the camera to kai who films just that

which also means mark is in the mood for you

about time to get some dick

and have taemin watch right next to you

being able to delight in mark’s wonderful technique

doggystyle

which ends up in kai joining 

which causes yukhei to join

and baekhyun to film 

the three are literally queueing while waiting for their turn

you tell them when to pull out and let the other member have you

until mark is riddled with so much suspension, the fifth thrust on his turn ends up in an unexpected hard climax

“oh my god oh my god!“

obviously kai will let loose now and cum as well, accompanied by really breathy groans

yukhei takes his time to make you moan which gives both taeyong and taemin a good show and an untouched orgasm

eventually you get to hear lucas growling his soul out

and kai bickering to pull out already

because it’s time for buffet

after getting rid of his condom, mark has been untying the very resilient ten who’s been in prawn bondage for like half an hour and five minutes now

respect

he and baekhyun team up to eat you out

yeah prepare for a dream team

while mark and kai chill on the other side of the bed

lucas on the other hand still doesn’t have enough and ends up licking your legs with his cock firmly palmed in those big hands

baekhyun and ten are doing the most meanwhile, lapping you up all sloppy

the job of the cameraman goes to a wild taemin who’s undone his safety hook 

he can’t stand this shit anymore he has to join the action instead of lying around in ropes

jeez the guy has the fun of his life playing with filters

silently giggling to himself

until kai finds out that taemin has been putting cat ears on ten and cowboy hats on lucas

kai confiscates the phone from naughty taem and decides to take up that task himself

so taemin can eat you out himself now

alright there are three heads bumping each other between your legs now

and yukhei close-by, currently nibbling at your outer thighs

can you imagine how crowded and crammed that is

you tell mark to get taeyong out of his ties as well

if you’re gonna cum he has to join the party as well

and he will not hesitate my friend

taeyong’s kinky tongue (which can make all kinds of completely unprecedented moves and slurping noises) riles up the other three to put all their effort into this

you order baekhyun and ten to line you left and right of your hips, fingering you from there

and let both taeyong and taemin get you to the point with their tongues at the same time

it’s a busy day innit

the reason is that baekhyun and ten didn’t come but you plan to change that with some dual handjob

baekhyun lets out some pretty hoarse panting noises

(yeah jongin destroyed him with that toy in his mouth for real)

once your hands grip onto their erections, almost automatically baekhyun’s fingers start going crazy on your clit and ten goes mad with his thumb right next to it

yeah he’s kept his rings on this is gonna be a sexy sight

mark and kai retire from their pillows to join at your request

mark kissing you, jongin sucking on your breasts

from this point on things are pretty much just a daze

two tongues two hands? oh shit

four people are trying to make you cum what did you expect

and three other people are licking you all over

yukhei doesn’t even care at this point he’s just straight up kissing your feet

ten is silently groaning it out, he’s pouring his seed into the condom with little twitches in the hip and shoulders

taeyong’s tongue is gonna finish you off, taemin’s lips will make you feel so good, your legs will be a shaking mess in yukhei’s hands

how to even describe this

it’s an explosion of heat and contractions

you’re going fucking crazy from all that head and tongue action god damn

mark definitely has to swallow a lot of your moans all over the place

and taeyong

also swallows

what a god-loving man

your pussy is leaking enough to feed baekhyun as well

who still strokes himself off while he’s cleaning you up with his mouth, oh boy he really developed a lot of stamina

you have your fun telling him to stop jerking himself off

so his orgasm ends up being ruined

those always mess him up

always a nice sight to have him shaking and whining and gasping

you have to roll over at some point before getting overstimulated

phew that takes quite a couple of deliberate breaths

now you have seven hot guys with sopping wet mouths on your hands, looking at you exhausted and infatuated

that’s super m for you

yukhei, man for the basics he is, hands out towels

you really gotta say he’s kept a clear head in all of this except maybe the sudden foot fetish reveal

of course taeyong towels himself down the most he’s basically covered himself with anything he could get his hands on

that face is dripping like his saturday evening lasagnas 

you help clean mark who kinda lost his mind and heart while kissing you, he needs your care a little more now

baekhyun soon snaps back into organization mode and has the brilliant idea to unpack xuxi’s and jongin’s luggage

to have everyone wearing their gigantic hoodies and sweaters

it’s warm in the room anyway but this feels so much cozier

after going to the bathroom

a ball of cuddly guys is snuggled up all aroud you faster than you can think

mark and taeyong are already sleeping they really knocked themselves out

champs

kai finds the completely forgotten phone somewhere in the sheets and turns off what seems to be a 50 minutes video

that’s gonna be fun to watch some time

baekhyun nuzzles himself to sleep against your sweater, right between your breasts

“mochi mama thank...” are his last words before he drifts off to pineapple pizza land or whatever dreamscape is in his head

probably something much dirtier but anyway

lucas and kai steal kisses from you and go off to sort out the room

jesus christ they still have the energy

taeyong’s nasty lil’ toy collection gets cleaned and reassembled, the ropes get coiled up, the towels wander into a washing machine in the other room

whose steady bumping lulls the rest of you to sleep

while taemin, epitome of taste he is, plays his best of hits on low volume with his phone

dozing off between seven guys while “heaven” is playing? 

best thing ever

the rest is history. you’re surrounded by sleepy cuddly sweater men

you actually sleep for a couple hours

dawntime you wake up cozied and sandwiched between yukhei’s tiddies and jongin’s back

which is the most protected, snug place on earth

even a nuclear superweapon couldn’t explode past that spot

they’re fast asleep

giant baby and teddy bear

safeguarding you in unison

ain’t they adorable

baekhyun is awake silently doing pilates, smiling cutely at you when he sees you’re awake, and he gets a big load of kisses i’m telling you

miraculously everything is tidy and smells fresh, and there’s a light soup in the air...

... lee taeyong got up at 6:30.

he was a whirlwind

the group gets to enjoy a 3-course classic korean breakfast 

because taeyong found the club kitchen

what kind of godly entity is this man

how did he do all of this

the club is the cleanest it’s ever been

taking care of 24 people is probably so difficult, this is actually easy to him

you depart in a good mood because damn that soup was restaurant quality and baekhyun had the idea to give you morning head to which everyone joined in

good thing the club has showers

baekhyun is still horny as hell and you want that D(elight) any time of the day 

so you fuck for a bunch of minutes in his car after dropping off the team and they giving you playful winks

you park the car behind xiumin’s house because that’s the most calm place to be

people are sleeping on xiumnin so hard, no paparazzi are around, ever

baekhyun settles there with you smiling

he didn’t sing “get you alone” with no reason

baekhyun needs that one-on-one time with you to ground himself and love you all over again big time

plus you are dying to cum bouncing on him on the driver’s seat 

while he is desperately gripping the steering wheel to have something solid to hold onto

yeah baekhyun is always ready to lose it for ya

it’s literally such a good spot to fuck

he’s strapped in all underneath you and you can see him squirm and get heart eyes from up close

you also love how your thighs meet the fabric of his pants

baekhyun’s tiny lap is already worth a huge nut you love grinding on him

those shapely thighs

with his cock peaking out from underneath his sweater

what his morning head tongue can do, his dick can do twice with ease so time for round two today

glad you have your bag with some utensils

you’re generous with lube on the condom

in fact you love spilling it over his pants a little

it looks like you’ve been squirting on him that’s why

baekhyun is down for your pervy imaginations

and gets even harder

not bad lil’ guy

time to make him moan with the grip of your walls

mochi breathes pretty hard because damn... more dick destruction

you love burying your hands in his sweater at the shoulders and just fucking ride

his hair gets messy, his bedroom gaze is so intense

his ass still hurts from yesterday but it seems to turn him own judging by the high-pitched groans and his begs for you to bounce on him harder

no problem his dick is just made to be ridden

if this wasn’t a high-tech car from the future with carbon and whatnot anybody could hear baekhyun’s um ‘vocals’ from the outside

this is so much fun oh my god

baekhyun releases with his eyes shut and teeth pressed together, his nose is all scrunched up

jesus this one got to him

he drives you to his home with his fingers shaking a little on the steering wheel

literally tapping like they do in his microphone on stage

yep this shook him up

and insatiable byun is now satisfied byun

nothing better than knowing you ruined your cupcake boyfriend in the best of ways

back at his apartment and after some extra carbo hydrate heavy food, as a pre-nap treat you grind on his thighs and his ass because why not

and gyrate him to sleep with his arms and legs stretched in all directions

both of you are still in disbelief that all of this happened

legend has it you’re dreaming of more group sex ideas that night

the next day taemin sends the champagne video to celebrate your first time together

which brings us back to the start

and that’s how it all happened

now you know

congrats on being a lucky girl

related: super m as subs

FINAL NOTE. ah shit i love this dynamic, thank you for reading 🎊

© 2017-2021 submissive-bangtan. all rights reserved. no reposts or translations allowed. all depictions fictional.

[scattered-winter]

So the last two posts about the Batfam and health have made me think about how they would stretch and relax after a hard day of crimefighting.

Recovery is really important for people who are very physically active, because their muscles are doing all this hard work, and they need time to unwind and recover from that. Recovery days are just as important as workout days, even if they seem like they don’t do much for you. I’ve been thinking about how the Batfam would spend their recovery days, so please accept this senseless drabble <3

Bruce

He’s been doing this a long time, and he knows what works for him. He’s also considerably older than the other vigilantes in his city, so Bruce stretches out his muscles very slowly and gently. He’s moderately flexible; not like Dick, but he isn’t stiff, either. He can touch his toes without bending his knees, and if he stretches and warms up first, he can touch the ground, too. Maybe he does some arm swings or torso twists, to stay loose, but nothing extreme.

Since Bruce wouldn’t know “relaxation” if it bit him on the ass, he usually spends his recovery days in the office, looking over cases while putting ice or athletic tape on sore muscles.

Dick

He’s the most flexible person in the family, and of course he loves to flaunt that. He doesn’t just touch his toes, he can place his palms flat on the ground. Behind his ankles. And he does it All. The. Time. Dick does his stretching while watching TV or something else where he can just sit and stretch out without having to move much. Jason walks in the room and Dick’s just laying on the floor in the most complicated yoga pose like “..’sup.” He also likes to hang upside down from the chandelier in the main room at the manor and go through his acrobatic stretching routine

When he’s not stretching, Dick is either taking a nap or taking Haley out for a walk or light jog. Something to get his blood pumping, but nothing that’ll really make him dig deep.

Jason

He’s not flexible At All. Jason’s workout routines and fighting styles are more of the heavy-lifting muscle-type stuff, so what he lacks in speed and agility he makes up for in raw power. He can’t touch his toes (Dick teases him ENDLESSLY) but he does like yoga. He’s not super great at it, but it helps him stretch out and relax when all else fails

When he’s not stretching, he’s rolling out his muscles and taping them when needed. Jason’s also very fond of chocolate milk.

Tim

He’s very meticulous about his recovery days. He knows what stretches are best for him, and he’s pretty flexible, too. Tim can 100% touch his toes, and he’s trying to get flexible enough to touch the ground, too. Tim also likes yoga, but he does it more as his time to be by himself and think than to actually stretch out. He doesn’t really do yoga with people, except Cass, but they just kinda vibe in silence. She does her thing and he does his, and they’re great

When he isn’t stretching out, he’s looking over cases with Bruce. He’ll always have some kind of sports drink with him, and he and Bruce will just hang out together

Damian

He’s probably one of the most flexible people in the family. Not on Dick’s level, but he’s pretty damn close. Damian can easily place his palms flat on the ground, and he sometimes stretches out with Dick while they watch TV together. Dick’s been getting him into animated shows like Avatar the Last Airbender. (Damian pretends to hate it but he’s secretly completely obsessed. He wants a space sword And a boomerang now).

When he isn’t stretching out or taking care of his body, he’s painting or drawing. Sometimes he dips his bare feet in paint and just walks across the canvas. Once in a while he gets out his charcoal and accidentally smudges it all over his hands and face so he looks like a kid dressing up as a commando soldier for Halloween. (I just have a lot of emotions about Damian and art okay)

Cassandra

She’s the second most flexible. The only person more flexible than her is Dick. They have flexibility contests for shits and giggles. Cass also just stretches out Anywhere. Y’all know that part in B99 when Rosa Diaz is just casually doing yoga poses in the weirdest spots? Like on top of shelves? And inside closets? Yeah. That’s Cass. She scared the shit out of Tim once when he was coming downstairs in the middle of the night for a drink of water. She was in the pigeon pose on top of the fridge. (Tim: *filling up a glass of water*  Cass: hey Tim: *screaming*)

When she isn’t taking care of her muscles and body, Cass is chilling with Tim. While he’s doing yoga, she’s just watching bad action movies and judging the special effects and fighting choreography

I might do another post like this later. Idk. I’m currently having a lot of fun looking at superheroes and vigilantes through the lens of an athlete, and thinking about what they would need to do to keep their bodies at their best

[friendlystarfruit]

Itto x sub fem reader

This is mostly smut with one comical fluff chapter where you imagine  Itto and you as parents and Itto nearly calls his kid a lil shit  (couldn't resist that meme)  https://archiveofourown.org/series/2720815 I have a whole series that  is all properly tagged, mixture of smut, humour and fluff  , not all have doodles with it , you can check out my other work or give kudos 

Chapter 1 Dry humping and giving Itto a hand job Chapter 2 Fluff and humour, you wonder what you and Itto would be like as parents Chapter 3 Itto jerks off with your underwear,later you tie him up and he gets mad breaks free then fucks you in the ass

You are dating Itto and you are into pet play. You have pointy dog ears and a fluffy doggy tail, while you are written to be short ( so sometimes described as little) you can easily be pump, slim built , slim thic etc Itto is a tough boy he could carry around a thicker lady no problem, so he can pick you up. You are written as cis female reader,

I always write Itto baddass during sex like how he is in battle. His dumbass moments tend to be written more for fluff.

Reader is sub :Your character is playful , vulnerable and cute , you like animals and like how Itto is egotistical , manly but also playful , cute and kind. You are a sub in and out of the bedroom basically however in the last chapter you do tie Itto up but it's still written as you as sub, he is dangerous horny beast and you are just playing with fire ;) which makes him angry and horny with his pet. hehehe

Notes:

This is part of a series but you don't need to read the whole series to read this. If you enjoy the fluff, smut or humour I do recommend checking out past series chapters , some of them have doodles with them.

IMPORTANT While I sometimes draw reader in the story please imagine her as you wish 

Also a lot of the time when I draw Itto I try to make his design more manly and buff so imagine Itto as you prefer too

https://64.media.tumblr.com/9abfc3505d508773ba02a675f2224908/tumblr_r6jop4dwzS1u0eev9o1_500.jpg somebody else did art of her and it is soo cute ;-;

https://64.media.tumblr.com/be92cb742072ff54e7f7711cc78edcb0/dd1881746721887a-7f/s500x750/4c080f342aeb1326049e8145e712f559ea40f764.png my first drawing of your character

https://64.media.tumblr.com/c92196b28ce3097cc4f84558a58b8790/25e845f7f25a83ed-1d/s2048x3072/64e290a34759746cf88d91928905bf64769f4e7c.png - more updated one

https://64.media.tumblr.com/47ff4ff5b7f740f3f3afe34f08d125bd/25e845f7f25a83ed-e4/s500x750/d87e509d31e4b533ebe3837b9b6e76bab18a84d7.png with itto in it

I'm dyslexic sorry sorry for any spelling errors , I try to fix most of them by rereading and editing, so they are most common on new chapters. If anything doesn't make sense though due to a missing word or grammar issue, let me know and I'll fix it.

Chapter 1

: Preparing a to go gift.

I’m afraid me an the gang have some stuff to attend to , we’re helping out the blue oni , might be away for 5 weeks”

Your heart sinks and your ears drop “5 weeks without Itto….not getting to spend time with him and no Oni dick ……”

He smiles and pets your head “Don’t make that face, when I get back think how exciting it’ll be, getting reunited with yours’s truly , I mean you can’t get enough of me , and who could blame ya, besides it’ll be hard for me to ya know “ He grins flashing his teeth down at you.

You sigh “I know Itto, but…” you cling to Itto tight and he rolls his eyes and smiles.

“by the way ……there is something I wanted to bring with me……”

“huh”

“I …….need “ he leans down to your ear and whispers “You can’t have your master missing his favourite lil outlet”

He pulls your back in and kisses your neck when he whispers in your ear “I want to take your underwear with me”

You blush as he cups your ass with his large hands , he breaths heavy humid air on your neck.

“Master Itto” you purr , your tail gently swishing.

“I’ll make sure your good and wet lil one” he growls , he sits on the bed and signals to his lap you sit on his lap , facing him and he massages his hands over your breasts, you feel his hard cock beneath you, it’s such a delicious feeling getting poked by an aroused Oni , aroused by you.

You pull town your panties from under your skirt but he wags a finger at you “Keep them on , your boi Itto wants them traced with your beautiful scent” He looks down at you with aggressive sexual eyes , he licks his lips as you pull your underwear up , he pulls you onto his knee and rocks you against him.

“Good girl, feels good doesn’t it”

“mmm master Itto you whimper feeling his hard leg grinding against your clit, your underwear is soaked and Itto can feel it on his thigh , it is driving him crazy.

He pulls out his cock and begins stroking ,you gaze in awe and his large member , the tip being a proudly shaped mushroom flushed from arousal with a glaze of precum dribbling out.

His hands are strong he rubs up and down his cock , riding his hand fast at the head , eager while you grind against his knee.

“master can I ?”

“Yes my pet “ he growls in pleasure , you grip his cock in your hand and rub it up and down , making sure to focus on his tip, while you grind yourself against his leg, he lets out a heavy masculine breath as you pleasure him, his aggressive eager eyes watch , he tries to properly pulls down his shorts, you wriggle off him at first and get back on him when his whole junk is free.

He has large plump balls , they’d be even plumper if the two of you would take a break from fucking all the time but how could you resist this beautiful beast of a man?

You get back to stroking him , he growls a little.

“master you are amazing ,your cock is so---”

“hahaha “ chuckles proud “of course it is baby, this is me where talking about but keep going , keep going ” he breaths excited.

You purr in delight and wag your tail “So thick and strong………and it’s so hand some and arousing “ you lean down and kiss his cock tenderly.

You can feel it pulse against your lips and hear him gasp with delight , more precum oozes out and you lick it up, it tastes like earthy salted caramel , Oni cum is practically very salty caramel with a hint of sweet and sour undertones.

“mmm master you are the one and Oni”

“UHHH.......*cough* ah fuck my good pet” he is a little overcome , he could never get bored of your praise and it always makes his heart flutter and at times breaks his composure.

“oh master you are the best!!!” You squeal rocking your clit harder against his leg you can feel yourself ready to cum, you jack him off harder and faster , and he quiver watching you helplessly grinding on him like your life depends on it , he holds his balls overcome by arousal ,“ugh my good lil pet , master is going to cum for ya!”

“master me too, me too” you whine pathetically like a whipped dog.

“I’m the one and fucking Oni “ He pants as his cock pulsates and explodes with cum all over you , while you are still pathetically humping his legs , grinding so pleasurably against him your orgasm takes over you “master I’m a good girl for you, a good lil slut” you pant pathetically and collapse on top of him. He smiles at the panting fluff, you roll off him onto the bed and he pulls away your panties he smiles at them “These are perfect”

"I'm gonna fucking miss this " he groans "but at least I have a little souvenir eh baby?"

He looks over at you covered in sweat nearly passed out .

"Oh yeah " he purrs to himself "guess I wore you out eh ?" he laughs proudly and lays beside you and runs his hands through your hair.......he eyes up the cum he had painted you with and smiles proud himself "HAH only I get to do that to my girl and nobody could out fuck me "

He has a huge grin on his face and takes in a breaths in then out sighing contently "babe if you wanna go again , huh-"

You had fallen asleep , your breath when you slept was so cute and your face was adorable.

"My girl is so frigging cute" Itto said to himself he pets your head and smiles "Sooooooooo adorable , what can I say I'm a lucky guy, well I'm sure it wasn't just luck I mean I am me" He boasts to himself, like even when nobody can hear him, but he still talks about how great he is

...HE kind of wanted you to be awake to say "You bet you are "and "You are the best boyfriend ever" he loved all that praise but he wouldn't disturb you besides he liked watching you sleep you where super cute and you where all his and his alone.

Chapter 2

: When we are parents.Summary:

This is just some humour and fluff between the smut , the smut continues on chapter 3. You are written as sub here too.

Basically you are pining for Itto and your brother makes some comments about if you and Itto will be good parents.

You imagine you and Itto struggling as parents ......Itto almost calls his kid a little shit......couldn't resist the meme =X

Imagine the kids as you wish same with reader I couldn't help drawing them, both a son and a daughter cus kept your kids gender ambiguous.

Chapter Text

It had only been three days and you where already finding it difficult without Itto.

The locals thought it was funny, Itto’s pet pining for him and your brother found it be annoying.

“Are you just going to sit at the door and wait for him sis” Your brother growled at you.

“No……I’m just checking to see if there is any mail”

Your brother rolls his eyes and sighs “come on I’ll take you out”

You and your brother go out to eat.

“You are really serious about him huh?”

“Yea” you nod.

“So……one day you want to have kids?”

“KIDS I- UH”

Your brother coos sarcastically “kids having kids , it is a tragedy !!”

“Hey we are adults !! and it’s not like anytime soon I mean”

“like you two boneheads could raise a kid, that ego with horns would just beetle duel his kid when he wouldn’t go to sleep and you’d give in to your kid anytime they cry , your a sucker for cute”

“WHAT…….I” you thought about it “OH SHIT”

You could just imagine it…..

“All right baby it’s time to go to bed” You purred to your kid..

“but mommy know I don’t want to, please”

“my child………is ………..so ………cute ……those little horns and that fluffy tail MY KID IS TOO CUTE” but no you had to be a parent no matter how cute your kid was.

(imagine your kid as you want I couldn’t help draw girl and boy option)

“I’m sorry , you have to go to bed “

“but mommy my friend stays up all night”

“I highly doubt that !! come on go to bed!!”

“NO”

“oh dear……ok wait until your Daddy gets home”

“I’m a terrible parent!!!!” you worry waiting for Itto to come home from not having a job. *In dark corner with head in lap*

Itto comes home.

“Itto am having trouble getting our kid to go to bed they just…….don’t respect me”

Itto puffs out his chest “step aside babe , I’m the leader of the Arataki gang !! , I’ll be able to set the law down, such call me Sheriff Itto!!”

“All right kiddo if you don’t get to bed we’ll have to beetle duel this one out!!!!!!!!”

You slap your hand against your forehead…”oh dear”

Itto duels with your kid.

“HAH I WIN, I WIN , your Daddy just set down the law baby”

“NO DADDY YOU MUST OF CHEATED !! IT’S NOT FAIR” your kid pouts!!!.

“HEY your daddy doesn’t cheat you lil shi------- “ 

Itto looks at your shocked face *cough umm “Daddy was just saying lil one…….that he does not cheat….SO GO TO BED” ( *couldn't resist the lil shit meme* )

“NO DADDY IS MEAN , I want Mommy”

“Oh yea? Mommy works for me! HAH” Itto signals for you to get over here.

“Oh dear….” You think.

“You have to go to bed…..do as Daddy says “

“OR ELSE no candy “ Itto folds his arms he looks over at you and gives you a thumbs up as if to say ‘’I’m A great dad!!!!!!!!”

You sigh “Itto can I have a moment with our kid.”

“HIDE YOUR CANDY” you whisper "Daddy is serious "

Itto shouts “HA I got your candy right here I’m going to eat it!!!!!!”

You rolls your eyes “Itto that is your candy stash”

“HUH….oh uh I knew that ! and I was gonna share it but now if you don’t go to bed the only candy you’ll be getting will be candy covered beans and you know your inherited my allergies “

“ITTO NO” You plea.

“babe relax I’m just bluffin!” Itto winks at you and you sigh.

“So lil one you gonna follow my orders huh?” Itto looks down at his kid, towering over him flashing his teeth , his kid whimpers “mommy , mommy Daddy is scary”

Your lil kid holds onto you and peeps behind your leg at Itto.

“Itto ….you have to remember you are a big adult, you scared our kid”

“HUH……..” Itto feels terrible “I-I”

“Darn it……..” Itto *In dark corner with head in hands*

“OH SHIT WE WILL BE BAD PARENTS “ you panic!!!!!!!!!!

Your brother rolls his eyes “ UGH sis I was just teasing look you both love all those kids games so you’ll be tons of fun and look as far as the nurturing goes with all the “cuddly wuddlys” you’ve got that covered and look don’t tell Itto this…..but he may be a dumbass but he looks out for others…..I get that, you might have to be the brains behind things but you can teach him to be a fair parent, if he knows how to set down law he is assertive enough to do it , besides you won’t be alone you know , you have me…” Your brother blushes “Don’t let it go to your head and don’t tell that bonehead I said anything.

“OH bro!!!!!” You cling to your brother tears streaming down your face.

“Hey I said don’t let it do to your head……ugh” Your brother pouts at you.

"but look sis he really will have to get a job if you have kids"

You sigh "make Itto get a job that will be a lot of work.

"I know he'll provide for us , we will find away" You smile optimistically.

"Tch " Your brother replies but you keep smiling, you start to think of the parenting scenario again.

“It’s ok baby Daddy isn’t scary , he just wants you to get to bed so you have enough energy for all the games we are going to play, come on lets go cheer up Daddy he feels bad”

“ok “ your kid whimpers.

You take Itto’s hand and smile “our baby wants to see their Daddy”

Your lil kid walks over to their daddy swishing their lil tail behind them Itto picks up his kid and embraces them.

“Daddy loves you kiddo, you never need to be afraid of me”

Itto feels so in love with his kid he looks into their big dilated eyes and smiles “Those horns of yours are coming in well!! And show daddy your teeth like this ahhhh” Itto flashes his teeth and his kid pokes them the both of them laugh and Itto clings to his kid.

“Listen Itto I’m not good at setting the law down but I have an idea how it should be down, why not work together”

Itto smiles at you “All right , I get to be the boss right?”

You giggle “Yes!”

“"Sheriff Itto back in town “ Itto laughs.

“now Itto if our kid misbehaves you can give them a time out but we shouldn’t yell or take away their candy and we have to explain to our kid why we have these rules”

“pffft yeah rules “ Itto hisses “They can suck , but when I’m in charge any rules I put down would be important , part of me being a good leader ya know babe? I mean you know how much my gang respects me *babble , babble ego* and yeah I end up in jail the odd time but I still am the one that *babble babble ego* after all I am the supreme one and oni Arataki Itto a living legend really ”

“uhhhh ......Yup “ You reach up to Itto and put your hand on his shoulder “You are a good Dad”

“You beecha isn’t that right kiddo?”

“I love you Daddy!!!” You smile as your kid nuzzles into Itto’s neck.

“Looks like somebody is tired “ You smile.

“nah I could stay up all night babe”

“ehhhh……..I meant “ You point to your lil child leaning into Itto now fast asleep”

“Damn are kid is friggin adorable I mean look they got your tail , look how soft and those horns just like your old man eh Kid? not that am old but ya know”

“Careful Itto lets not be too loud , I can take it from here”

“aww alright !” Itto sighs and hands you the sleeping fluff.

Your nurse your child in your arms and gently stroke their face.

“mah cute lil family eh?” Itto grins he embraces you as you hold your kid, he kisses your hair “I’ll do whatever it takes to protect my family”

“Like get a job” You tease.

“Hey babe that an’t how I roll and you know I still provide for us!!!”

“I know I’m sorry I was just teasing” You smile and tilt your head.

Itto smiles back “Well if you wanna make it up to me later , put the kid away and we can , you know what I'm talking about? “

You sigh thinking of you and Itto as parents and your brother rolls his eyes "maybe we won't be such bad parents!!"

Chapter 3

: Oni beast 

Itto is super horny he jacks off to your underwear all day xD when you and him finally get together again, you tie him up making him super angry and horny , then he breaks free and fucks you in your ass. So romantic , don't worry a lil fluff at the end ;) Itto has big heart

Itto was already missing you too , his eyes would trail off and he’d be lost in thought thinking of you when he was supposed to be doing something else and he’d take any moment he could to stroke himself thinking of you.

He purred and smell your underwear , growing more frustrated , his horns where hot and throbbing just like his cock. He slid his hand rhythmically up and down his member , letting out little pants and moans as he imagined fucking you, his cock leaked onto his hands and he growled while desperately imagining your tight warm pussy clinging and massaging his dick.

He missed his obedient pet, your praise , your tongue the way you’d helplessly moan his name as he fucked the life out of your g spot. He smelled your underwear again and his breath became more rapid , his moans where husky and fierce he trembled in. arousal at your scent like a beast in heat.

He massaged up at the tip and down his shaft vigorously , arching his back in pleasure , his abs fully exposed and his cock rigid against his tummy “Fuck my pet I need to hear you’re voice” Itto groaned , then he massaged your underwear against his cock, still moist with your juices; it was a perfect sleeve to compliment the leaking precum ,”ugh” he grunted feeling himself ready to cum, he held onto swollen his balls but he couldn’t hold back the orgasm contracting through his whole cock.

“UGH I’m a fucking champ!!” He praised himself imaging your helpless face telling him he was the one and oni king of fucking. Cum shot out of his cock and he buckled his hips into his hand , panting a little pathetically now but still masculine.

His abs moved up and down as he breathed heavy overcome from his orgasm, but still he never felt satiated , without his let pet , he’d continue to get hard again and again, sometimes painfully hard. It drove him mad making a beast of out of this big Oni man.....(who I imagine as a lot buffer than his game model Just saying ;))

He missed you, not just your body , but your smile , you laugh the little things you did for him that made him feel special and important. It began to make him angry he smacked his hand against the wall “Fuck this shit” HE growled.

“Hey boss are you all........... BOSS”

“AHHHHHH don’t you knock” Itto squeaked painfully embarrassed , by the sight of his cock wrapped around women’s underwear.

“eh boss it’s a tent and you sounded upset”

“Uh uh WELL “ Itto grabbed a blanket to cover himself.

“Don't be ashamed boss why the other day I saw”

“GET OUT I'm not ashamed” Itto cried “ugh I’m sorry I’m just so friggin – ugh” Itto turned his head blushing, he was getting more hot headed even for him he’d usually be much more chill.

Days past and Itto become more and more of a horny beast , he had to arrange to leave early it was too much for his tortured horny cock.

He’d open his mouth flashing his fangs drooling while he was lost in thought of fucking the shit out of his good little pet that was you, he couldn’t wait to get back to you.

You where the same any chance you got alone you’d touch yourself thinking of him, you wanted him to mark you with his fangs again, you wanted to wither under his touch and obey very order master Itto asked of you, you where ready to pathetically wag your tail and suck him off, but their was something else you thought about what kind of beast Itto was when he as horny, he could be quite intimidating you wanted to try something when he got back.

You had the whole house to yourself but you weren’t expecting Itto back, you lay on the bed and curled your fingers into your pussy , swishing your tail as you tasted the sensual pleasures of pussy and clit, you moaned helplessly calling out for your master.

Itto let himself in but you hadn’t noticed, he walked in with wide hungry eyes as you purred his name, he ran his fingers over the massive bulge in his shorts to relieve sexual tension , while he walked over to you.

You where pathetically lost in pleasure , and it was quite a shock when you felt the bed push down as Itto joined you , he hovered over you with horny beastly eyes

“ITTO YOU ARE BACK” You smiled up at him but he only stared down at your tits licking his lips.

“Your boi Itto here. Couldn’t wait to see ya” His cheery voice though broke into a more sensual concentrated voice “I need to fuck you my pet” he purred.

“There is something I want to try” You say sheepishly.

Itto smiled at you excited.

“I wanna tie you up”

“UH WHAT” Itto was confused you wanted to tie him up?.

“I’ll still be a good pet for you “

Itto reluctantly agrees “I’m still the boss right?” he asked you childishly.

“Of course you purred , kissing his neck , the warm humid air on his neck sent shivers down his spine too his cock , now he was tied to a chair and you began kissing his face.

“Did you miss me master” You purr to him.

“AH fuck like you friggin wouldn’t believe babe” He talked back to you.

You moaned as you pleasured yourself and Itto watched in awe “Don’t be a tease now” he growled but you just going, you kept moaning you straddled onto knee and kissed his abs.

“Yo , you gonna leave me untouched ,HEY” Itto struggled getting more and irritated , he flashed his fangs at you as he said “HEY ya listening to me”

“Did you use my panties” You whimper to him “The thought of you with them drove me crazy”

“Of course I did” He grunted staring at your tits and licking his lips, his cock leaked with precum and his balls felt painful and swollen , you’d ghost his crotch with your fingers and his cock would twitch.

“ugh fuck your so hot my pet , suck me off”

You just kept feeling his abs and ghosting your fingers over his touch starved cock.

“Are you going to disobey me?”

You moan pathetically “I’m sorry master are you angry?”

“Yes I’m fucking angry” Itto seethes struggling to break free.

He was super horny and super angry the anger and horniess began to connect , he felt turned on by his own anger and you where turned on by it too.

“I’m sorry master I can’t help it” you continue pleasuring yourself while you rub his abs, at this point you are grinding against him and he can feel your wet pussy against him, it is driving him nuts, his throbbing cock pleads for attention , his balls feel swollen and sore and he is feeling angrier and angrier ..

It’s driving Itto insane the intense itch in his cock is getting worse and worse , cumming hands free would be a mercy but even so he desperately wriggles to free himself because he wasn’t going to let you get away with this, he was going to show you who was boss around here.

One hand breaks free, and then another but you are just pathetically humping against his leg now, you look up at him and he flashes his fangs at you “BOO”

You gasp as he throws you onto the bed “This is what you wanted isn’t it? You wanted me to fuck you while I was angry , you’ve been a very naughty girl” Itto smiles still flashing his pearly fangs at you , his eyes are hot with the look of unmeasurable hunger

You nod to him, feeling a little frightened but it only gets you off further. “Think your master is going to let you get away with being such a tease , you’re going to be a good little slut for me.

You tremble , “was he going to be too rough, was he going to tease you in return?”

The tables had turned the beastly oni had you wrapped around his finger , he pulled you closer to him by your legs then mounted you , he was heavy and strong , you tried to push him off you just wanted to feel how strong he was.

Your push was pathetic , it only made him laugh “Do you really want me to stop?” He smiled devilishly , despite him being a big idiot he was super seductive.

You shake your head nervously, there was no way you wanted him to stop.

“Good girl” Itto purred as he dug his fangs into your neck, you moan a little in pain, he’d marked you before but this was different he was a lot rougher , it kind of hurt.

He stroked your face protectively “I apologise but you knew where you where doing so you gonna be a good girl and take my cock up your ass” You gasped and nodded you head obediently , your pussy pooled with warm juices and your clit pulsed as fast as your heart , Itto got some lube and drenched it on his fingers , he curled them into your ass making you wince a little.

You where the one who’d asked about anal sex , Itto had asked you to make sure you prepare, luckily you had been experimenting by putting things in your ass recently, it was lucky because that big Oni cock in your ass would have been too much and this angry beast was not holding back , he was already impatient , pawing at his cock in between playing with you.

Itto breathed heavy hot air on you neck while he fingered your ass , he locked his eyes on you “Take my cock you bad girl”

Itto flips you on your tummy and you present your ass for him, he nearly falls over at the sight.

You feel feel Itto’s cock in your ass, he has lubed up well and starts slow and easy.

“atta girl your master won’t go too hard , as long as you behave yourself” He strokes your ass down too your tail then he grips your hips so has full control of the hold you have on his cock.

Itto’s cock feels like an immense pressure in your ass , but it feel exciting you pull over your pillow to hump it while he starts to thrust inside you, the pressure of his cock in your ass while you rub your pussy against your pillow is exhilarating , you moan and your tail wags , making Itto go faster and faster, his panting and breathing increases , he slaps your ass “Good Little Pet , FUCK”

“Master you scared me , but I liked it, you are amazing , terrifying but so hawt”

Itto keeps slamming his cock into you “Tell me am the best!!!!! Tell me why your my personal cock sleeve! You bad lil whore!!” Itto demands

“Your everything to me, I live for your cock , you are a crimson oni , I live to please you master” You moan pathetically “master I’m gonna cum”

“Fuck YA” Itto groans buckling his hips into you “I’m your own and Oni your master!! You will not ever get away with misbehaving AWW SHIT” Itto is out of breath has his pulsating cock contracts and he explodes into you.

You feel your ass getting painted in warm oni cum after hearing Itto roar in pleasure , now you can feel your self cumming too, your pussy contracts and you almost black out “I’m your personal whore” you squeal as you are filled with affection for Itto and want to pathetically declare your sexual dedication to this beast of a man.

The both of you pant and Itto pulls out his cock , cum leaks out of your ass and you collapse on the bed.

“boy that was fun, didn’t think I’d go for being tied up , but fucking you while I was mad at you …….made me feel so powerful” It grinned proud of himself.

“Uh- huh” You pant recovering from taking it in the ass.

“You ok babe?”

“I’ll be fine”

Itto crawls over to your face and looks into your eyes “Your my girl “ he smiles and strokes your hair, you smile back “I love you Itto”

Itto feels warm and fuzzy inside “Right back at ya!!, now come on let’s get ya cleaned up and into bed , my baby girl needs her rest after all that action!!”

You smile , Itto is keen to look after you , he picks you up in his arms and takes you to the bathroom to clean you up, you cling to his chest feel safe and warm.

[writinglionqueen]

Nectare de Rosa

Drew held you to his front as you sat between his legs, your back resting along his torso...your hands between your legs. The air was hot and stuffy and the two of you had just gotten out of the shower. His skin was like embers against every inch that met yours. But even his breath felt like hot, bellowing smoke as he pressed his lips against your shoulder...and your neck....and the shell of your ear, his panting breath catching along your exposed skin. 

You never should’ve showed Drew the picture you did; a drawing of a rose being held and touched by feminine fingers, followed by a second picture with a man’s hands aiding the smaller ones in touching the petals of the rose, their combined fingers touching the center, only to be covered in the “nectar” of the flower. A subtle erotic drawing you saw and showed the man behind you who studied it with his intense blue eyes, his thoughts swimming in his head. 

In the shower, those thoughts must’ve marinated for a bit because he couldn’t keep his hands to himself as you two washed up. His large hands would move down your sides, teasing every area he knew was sensitive and got you quivering in want. Especially as his fingers eased down between your legs while his lips and teeth nipped against the side of your neck. His own fingers teasing your clit, parting your lips to get you more sensitive to his touches. It was a great start to get you heated, to get the fire and want to pool between your legs, coating his fingers in slick even with the hot steam rising from the water cascading down his back. He was able to leave you alone close to the end, long enough for you two to finish up so he could have you sit between his heavy thighs, have you reclined back against him as the both of you sat propped up against the headboard of your shared bed. 

“Show me how you play with yourself, Princess,” Drew murmured down to you. His deep, gruff voice had you shivering even though you were sweltering in his grasp. But you followed his instruction. You were propped open for yourself....and for Drew...so you could rub your fingers along your own petals, as Drew watched from over your shoulder. He watched the way you rub large circles around and on your clit. Sometimes, you’d collect your slick and bring it up to make the firm touches glide so much smoother. 

You didn’t want to think about the way you could feel Drew’s want for you; heavy and hard and hot against your lower back as he watched you please yourself first. This was about giving you pleasure and making you feel good. Because Drew prided himself and got off on giving you your satisfaction first. 

And you worked yourself up, fingers trailing along your slick folds and pressing hard against your clit, causing you to slightly roll your hips into your own hand. Little gasps and pants left your lips as you knew what you were doing to yourself. But you really wanted Drew to get his hands on you, and finish you off because that’s what he wanted, to follow those pictures. 

So with a twist of your hand, you pushed two of your fingers into yourself easily under Drew’s watchful eyes. You rolled into your hand more. Your slick made it so easy for your fingers to pump in and out of you, and the slight stimulation from the heel of your hand against your clit on every pump had you gasping. Even the curl of your own fingers against your g-spot had you giving pleasant hums. 

But Drew couldn’t take it any longer. He wanted to complete the masterpiece that was in his head. One that you saw coming to fruition between your thighs as his hands moved down your arms and followed suit in aiding your hands into providing you your release.

One large hand held onto your thigh as his other rubbed your clit, providing a lot better stimulation than the heel of your palm could provide. It made you mewl for Drew. It had your eyes clenching close. It had you getting lost in the feeling of the number of fingers that aided you to a high you got desperate for. 

You couldn’t help the way your unoccupied hand reached for one of his massive thighs, to hold onto as you rocked into your hand and his. You felt the familiar clench of yourself around your digits, could hear the roar of blood in your ears that drowned out Drew’s pants and his small, quiet praises for you getting yourself off as he asked.

The man holding you kissed at your neck. His beard scraped at your shoulders as his hand and yours wound you all up, like a rubber band; ready to snap at any moment and release everything. 

“Come for me, Princess,” Drew said to you, “let me see what that flower as for me.” You shivered at his comment. One that circled back to the art piece you showed him, the rose covered in hands and “nectar.” Drew wanted to recreate said piece with the “rose” his fingers toyed with. 

And recreate it, he did. 

You cried his name as your peek came upon you quickly. Your pussy clenched around your fingers and your thighs wanted to close to trap the feeling between them. And you tried but Drew has secured your legs apart with his feet hooked onto your ankles as he made you ride the intense feeling all the way to completion, until you were nothing more than a whining mess, calling his name with your eyes slammed shut and your neck bared for his rough kisses. He obliged in the open expanse of your neck as he growled out how good you were. His Princess. His rose. All while your fingers continued to push into yourself until your orgasm ran its course. 

You could say nothing but his name until you were panting, coming down from your high. You withdrew your fingers from yourself, slowly, and you tried not to peer down at them, knowing you’d see them covered in your cum. Drew on the other hand was quick to point them out however. He hummed in pleasure. 

“Look at that, Princess,” he murmured. You opened one eye, almost frightfully to see him hold your wrist, moving your hand to see your cum glisten in the low light of the room. “I think we recreated that picture perfectly.” You let out a heavy breath as you let your eyes close in exhaustion. 

“I don’t like you sometimes,” you said to him. Drew chuckled into your ear, but the feeling of his erection pressing along your lower back wasn’t lost on you. You sighed. “I recon you’d like me to take care of that for you, huh?” Drew kissed your temple. 

“Only if you’re offering,” he teased. You knew it wasn’t an offer. He was going to get his pleasure because he deserved it for making you feel so good. 

Another sigh left you. 

“Give me one moment,” you said to him. “Let me catch my breath.” Drew chuckled. 

“Whatever you need, my rose.”

Tag: @acon1120 @adriennegabriella @akiko-tanaka @alination @amariemoore @andie01 @annoyingasian @artemisapalla316 @ashkrystal @astolenheartnkiss @axelwolf8109 @baemcintyre @balorstrowmanblackmurphy @beckyann6879 @bellezalatina @bigbabyscottishpsychopath @brownskinafro @calicina @calwitch @castiellawolfkissed @claymoreme @commando-claymore @crossfitjesusinblackskinnyjeans @curlyafrogirl @daddyslittlevillain @dalia-corven @darlingambrose @dcnmarvelgamergeek @demonqueen29 @drew-is-boo  @fabulousrockstar @fireyegale @fivefootxo @flawlessglamazon @fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @gold--gucciempress @hardcoresweet45 @heel-rollins @homeorbust @ihavenowilltolivelol @i-have-saracasm @itsicantbelievethis666 @jazzy-tzw @jeffhardyenigmawwefan @junglecassidy @kalliravenne @ladytea19 @letsgivethisonemoreshot @lilred91 @littlesuperstar @madebypointlesswerewolves @malethirsty @meishaabae @melblacc @meremaidqueen @midnight--luna @monocromaticstaircase @morenokatt @moxleysbaby @moxley-unhinged @mox-made-me-do-it @moxnmurphy @moxtiel @myaisawwefan @neversatisfiedgirl @nevertoofarfromivar @new-zealand-chic @nicolewoo @nothinginlifebutgreif @number1120 @ofbeornandbjorn @oreillystolemyheart @pandaluver96 @queenofthearchitect @retro-rezz-the-est @romans-sweat-pants @saiyandude @sassymox @savemeroman @scuzmunkie @sebstanismylife @shortyiceheart @slytherinyourrpants @softmoxymuffin @taryn-dibiase @thatnerdwriter @thatpanpal @the-beastslayers-queen @thepalaceofmelanie @theworldofotps @thewrestlingwarehouse @trashofambrolleigns @twistedbeautifully @undisputedmorgs @unprettypeony @voidstrugh @waywardwrestlewritingwaif @welcome-to-lovecraft-country @xbreezymeadowsx @yaint-me @youcantreignonmyparade @drewmcintyrekoccsrocbwdgfan @thesithdiaries​

[avengerscompound]

Canvas

Canvas: A Captain America Fanfic

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count:  1844

Warnings:  smut (vaginal sex, messy sex,)

Synopsis:  Steve has been painting you for a while.  In a lot of ways you’ve been his must.  This time, he has decided to use a whole different canvas to practice his art on.

Canvas

The brush was soft and tickled your skin.  Paired with the cool, wet paint, it set off a ripple of goosebumps in its wake.

Steve was an artist.  You hadn’t known that when you’d first started seeing each other.  The serious and stoic Steve Rogers who had devoted his life to protect the world as Captain America didn’t seem to be the soft artistic type.

He had surprised you though.  First with the fact he wasn’t as serious as he made himself seem when he was in uniform.  He was funny and snarky, and he cared deeply about people.

And he liked to paint.

You’d first discovered his artistic side when you’d woken up to find him sitting on the end of the bed sketching a picture of you sleeping.  There was a way about Steve - an open vulnerability - that meant he could get away with doing things like watching you sleep that didn’t feel creepy.  There was something romantic about the way that he wanted to capture the moment.  Not with a camera to show how it was, but with a pencil to show how it made him feel.

Since that day he’d gotten more and more into his art when he was around you.  Your place and his became littered with sketches and drawings, mostly of you, but sometimes just of things that made him feel real.  Not the symbol of America, but a real man who wanted a quiet life with someone he loved.

When the painting started, you would sit for him.  You were his muse and when you would sit for him, you’d find yourself holding all kinds of unlikely positions, in a variety of different states of undress.

It was a strange feeling being his life model.  Sexy.  Uncomfortable.  Flattering.  Safe.  The best part was seeing the finished product.  It was like getting to see yourself through the eyes of the person who loved you most and there was nothing more intimate than that.

Today Steve was interested in a different canvas.

You stood naked in his home office, a drop cloth below you to capture any stray drops of paint.  Steve had his shirt off too, and there were already a few smears of paint on his perfectly sculpted chest.  There was something sexy about the look.  Like the mess made him seem raw and unbridled in a way Steve rarely was outside of sex and battle.

The brush moved down and around the curve of our breast in a long sweeping motion.  You shivered as the cool of the paint sent a tingle up your spine.  Your nipples hardened and you weren’t sure if that was only because of the cold.  Steve’s eyes drifted from the line of his paint to your breasts and his cheeks turned slightly pink.  “Is it very cold?”  He asked.

“It’s cold, but I’m not sure that’s the whole problem,” you coyly answered.

The blush deepened in Steve’s cheeks and his tongue glided over his plump bottom lip.  “Mm… for me too,” he said and leaned down, pressing his mouth to your breast.  Your nipple fit perfectly between his soft lips, and as his tongue swirled over it, you let out a sharp breath.

“Steve…” you sighed, your hand going to his shoulder to steady yourself.  He sucked on your tender flesh, his tongue curling around your hardened nipple, and as he pulled back, his teeth grazed over it, making a buzz spiral out under your skin.

He returned his attention to his art, leaving you trembling slightly from the brief interlude.  You blinked and shook your head as you tried to focus on the art, rather than the heat building between your legs.

You watched as he added some black to the blue he was painting on your skin, darkening the shade as he filled in the color under your stomach.  “What are you painting?”  You asked.

“You’re just going to have to wait and see,” he said.

“It’s not a flag, is it?”  You asked.  “I don’t want you to paint me to look like a flag.”

Steve laughed softly and shook his head.  “No.  It’s not a flag.”

He dipped his thumb into the purple on his pallet and ran it down between the two shades of blue on your stomach.  It tickled and you squirmed away from him a little.

“I need you to try and stay still, sweetheart,” Steve said.

“You try it when someone’s doing this to you,” you teased, and poked him in the abs.  He jumped away with a laugh.

“That’s cheating,” he said, grabbing your wrist.

You giggled and he kissed your hand before letting your wrist go again.  His fingerprints remained on your skin.  Blue spots to mark where he’d held you.  You studied them as he returned to painting.  Admiring the way they marked how easily his large hands wrapped around your wrists.

You took one of Steve’s spare brushes and dipped it into the red paint.

“What are you doing?”  Steve asked, raising his eyebrow though he didn’t look away from his work.

“Thought I’d do a little bit of body painting too,” you said and pressed your red palm against his chest.  When your hand left his body, the perfect impression of your hand was left in scarlet against his pale milk skin.

Steve’s lips quirked at the side and he shook his head.  “Very pretty,” he said.  “Shall I give you one?”

“Won’t it mess up your design?”  You asked.

“I can paint over it,” he said as he began painting his palm with purple paint.  “Where should I put this?”  He teased, waving it in front of you.

You squealed but your body seemed to curve toward him like it was aching for his touch.  He hovered his hand over your breast.  “Here?”  he whispered and watched as you shivered slightly, pushing your chest out toward him.  He licked his lips and moved his hand up to your neck.  “Maybe here?”

You swallowed thickly.  “Please?”

He moved his hand down around your waist and smacked it down on your ass.  It was firm and made a sharp crack as his skin met yours, but it wasn’t painful.  You gasped and he dragged your forward, his fingers digging into your ass.  “Here?”  He said, bringing his lips to yours.

You kissed him hungrily, his other arm curling around your waist.  You moaned into his lips and pressed your body against him.  You could picture the mark on your ass.  His large palm staining your skin purple.  His hands slid around your waist, smearing the paint as he moved them, leaving a wet trail up to your ribs.  His fingers tightened and he pushed you back against the wall.  You submitted to him, melting under his touch.  His hands gripped your chest just under your breasts and he dragged them up, breaking the kiss so he could lean down and suck your breasts.  You let your head fall back against the wall and wrapped a leg around him, pulling your bare cunt against his clothed crotch.  His cock was hard and strained against the thick fabric of his khakis.  You cunt smeared your fluids on his jeans as the friction drew them from you, sending a hot tingle spiraling out through you.

He sucked and bit at your breasts like a hungry man.  Dutifully moving from one to the other and back again, sending a dull ache down to your core.

“Steve,” you moaned.  “I need you.”

He groaned and spun you guiding you back to the tarp and knocking his paints to the floor so they splattered over the drop cloth.  He lay you down, ignoring the paint as it pooled around your body.  You put your hands in the wet mess and watched as he hurriedly unfastened his pants.  As he positioned himself above you, you spread your legs wide and wrapped your arms around him, welcoming him in and marking him as your own.

He was kissing you again, hard and passionately.  You matched him, bringing your tongue to meet his and swirling it around.  He lined himself up and with a hard thrust, he was inside you.  You gasped arching up into him as an eclectic pulse passed through your body.  He didn’t wait for you to adjust, he just began thrusting into you again and again.  The head of his cock hitting your cervix and sending sharp jolts through you again and again.

You cried out and bunched your hands in his hair.  The paint on your hands clung to the strands, sticking them together and making them stick up in clumps.  You could feel your climax building, and you nudged him.  He took the hint flipping you over.

The paint you’d been lying in dripped down your back onto his thighs.  He smeared his hands through it and then used it to finger paint on your body as you rode him.  You started slowly, swirling your hips like you were doing a seated dance, his cock moving inside you and pressing against your walls.  You began to move faster, bouncing on his cock.  Steve groaned as he watched you, his hands caressing his body.  Faster and faster you moved, up and down, up and down.  Sweat mixed with the paint as you chased your orgasm.  Steve began to snap his hips up into you, your bodies slapping together each time you connected.

He pushed you back, first so you were seated face to face, you sitting in his lap, and then pushing you back on the floor again.  He pushed your legs up so they were pressed against your chest.  His cock penetrated you so deeply you thought it was going to split you in two.  You cried out and your orgasm hit, shuddering through you and making all your muscles seize up.  Steve kept thrusting, fucking you through it, and as he reached his own climax, he pulled out pumping his cock in his fist and releasing, spattering your stomach and chest with thick white ropes that stood out against the rainbow of paint.

You lay back panting as you came down from your orgasm high and Steve lay down beside you.  “God, you’re beautiful,” he sighed.

“We ruined your art,” you said, looking down at yourself.

“I think we made it better,” he said.  “I know I’m going to remember you like this for a long time.  My gorgeous artwork.”

He brought his lips to yours and kissed you deeply and tenderly.  You closed your eyes and hummed, relaxing into it.  When he pulled back he smiled at you.  “We really should go shower.”

You giggled and Steve helped you to stand.  He looked down at the drop sheet below him and smiled.  “I think I might frame that,” he said.

You looked down at the colors.  They swirled together, but you could see everywhere the two of you had touched.  You liked the idea of hanging it in the apartment.  A permanent reminder of what you and Steve had.

[yeojaa]

( SOMETHING COMFORTING. )

Jeon Jungkook loves Overwatch, drinking games, and Halloween.  What he loves more than that?  You.

pairing.  gamer!jjk x named f!reader.

genre + rating.   idol!au set in room filled with bunnies and a cotton candy machine that’s exploded.  it’s just that fluffy.  (but also explicit cause why not.)

tags / warnings.  established relationship, gaming (overwatch), dorky weeb references, mentions of drinking, yugyeom makes an appearance (!!), fingering, soft soft soft love making in the shower. 

wc.  9.7k

beta reader(s).  the lovely @kerikaaria​​​ read through this to make sure i didn’t get too nerdy.  tysm!  💛  i may like further changes once my beloved @hobi-gif​ gets her hands on it but i’m a potato who wanted to post this quickly.  oops... 

author note.  this fulfills the “jeon jungkook” square of @btsholidaybingo​‘s bts holiday bingo 2020 and this is the couple from angels & airwaves.  while this story isn’t super plot-driven, it’s meant to be a little peek into the lives of a couple that live in my mind rent-free and continue to make me soft and gooey inside.  i hope you enjoy it!   

You don’t know how he talked you into it or how it really happened.  You remember, faintly, the mention of a party.  Something about it being a small thing - just a few close friends, the members, etc.  He’d said it so offhand, like commenting on the sky or asking for another package of Choco Boys, so you hadn't given it a second thought.  If it was important, he’d bring it up again and if not, well, you hardly remembered it anyway.  Win-win or whatever.  

So you’d given up some intelligence points, traded them for space to fit more gaming knowledge.  Somewhere along the line went your memory too - the conversation wiped from your brain like Will Smith had lasered it clean. 

“Zarya’s one!  Zarya’s one—“  You’re not sure how many times you can repeat yourself, shrieking through comms to a team that doesn’t seem to want to listen.  You’re blasted into oblivion, Mercy’s prone body launched across the map as you watch your Rein fall too.  There’s an irritation bubbling in your stomach, fizzing uncomfortably like the Japanese honeydew soda you’d had at lunch.  “Zarya’s actually one!” 

No one cares.  She’s healed by the time you respawn and make it back across the map. 

“Jesus—“  Your push-to-talk remains off for that flippant comment, distaste colouring your words a bitter shade of blue.  You almost want to let your Ashe get headshot by the enemy Widow, only switching the stream from damage boosting to healing when your teammate starts spamming their hotkey.  

I need healing!  I need healing! 

What you need is a team that listens to your calls or at the very least communicates in some way.  Doesn’t seem like it’s going to happen though.  There’s near radio silence in the voice chat, the only other person remotely helpful being your bouncing booping Lucio that’s trying to keep a flanking Tracer off point.  Stupid.  You almost feel bad for him, Guardian Angeling to him when no one else seems to want to offer any support. 

Ah, the life of a support player in masters ranked.  So infuriating and yet— nope.  Just infuriating. 

You lose the first round with 1:56 to spare, to no one’s surprise.  Okay, maybe to your Reinhardt’s surprise.  He’s being surprisingly chipper in text chat, sending WP and a dorky smiley face.  You think he must volunteer at the local animal shelter and buy coffee for the people behind him in the drive-thru.  He’s far too well-adjusted, not shooting off a single accusation to anyone on the team.  A silver lining, you suppose.  

Your second round starts well enough.  Your comp is solid - as much as it can be in the current off-tank dominated meta.  Hog, Zarya, a private profiled GM Widowmaker, Tracer, Lucio, and you as Ana.  You’d prefer to play Mercy - find the most comfort in her skill set - but on an attack map, you’re not risking a headshot right out of spawn.  Broken maximum damage good stuff means healers are squishy and you don’t have your usual DPS to boost.  (He’s off doing god knows what - maybe filming an ad for Samsung or breaking the internet with his permed man bun.)

You make it through the choke without much ado.  The enemy Rein is wildly out of position, eager to make some big brained play that goes terribly wrong.  Your Lucio chuckles through voice and you join him, tossing a nade when your Zarya looks like she’s about to die to a poorly executed 360 shatter. 

“You winning?” 

It’s your boyfriend peeking over your shoulder, so close you nearly scream, mouse launched across your desk with the intensity of your reaction.  You hadn’t heard him come in, the stupid sneaky bastard as quiet as a mouse.  

(It’s not your own fault.  He knows you can’t hear anything when you’ve got your headphones on, the noise cancelling in your state of the art Sennheisers not something to scoff at.)

“Jeez, Kook!”  You want to be more mad.  Really, you do.  You’re scrambling across your desk to retrieve your mouse, squeaking a quick apology into team voice when your hero stays in one place for too long.  Luckily, Hog - previously sweet kind Rein - throws his big fat piggy self directly in front of you, effectively saving you from an otherwise miserable death at the hands of Torbjorn. 

“What?”  Jeon Jungkook has the audacity to look scandalised, shiny eyes so wide and innocent they feel more as if they belong in an early 2000s anime. 

You’re not even looking at him when you huff - too invested in your Overwatch game to give him the hell he deserves.  All you manage is a swift don’t scare me like that! as you pump your tanks back to full health.  

You notice Jungkook hasn’t moved away, still peering curiously over your shoulder.  You know he hasn’t had much time to play lately, too involved with appearances for their comeback, his schedule too packed even for you some days.  You don’t blame him when he pulls his chair up behind you, rolling into place so he’s just within your periphery. 

It’s a little distracting;  he smells good, like his - and by extension your - favourite laundry detergent and a fruity, nectarine-heavy shampoo you’d picked up for him when he’d run out of his usual.  You notice then that his hair is wet, just the wrong-side of too damp with droplets beading over his neck.  Moisture soaks into the top of his shirt and you think it might be more soaked than you can see;  it’s hard to tell when it’s a jet black shirt, one of the many he keeps in your closet for the nights he stays over.  You realise then that he must’ve been home far longer than you’d thought, if his freshly washed pink cheeks are any indication.  (Because he takes seriously long showers, nearly doubling your water bill in the year you’ve been together.) 

You want to ask what he’s doing here - you’d sworn he was busy for the next few days - but can’t find the adequate brain power to do so.  You’re playing an incredibly high skill character (your words) and if you don’t get this goddamn shot on your Lucio to keep him up, your team is going to die (your ego’s words). 

‘Ask Kook about his day’ gets scribbled on a paper on the desk in your head and filed away under To Do Later in your overflowing brainiac filing cabinet. 

“Can we pleaaaaase focus their Zarya?  She has grav.”  Though you offer the tidbit of information, you don’t assume it’s going to be relied upon.  Your team is well on their way to taking first point - surprisingly - and there’s still nearly three minutes left on the clock.  If the six of you idiots can keep it together and kill that goddamn Zarya, there’s no doubt in your mind you’ll win the game. 

Alas, fate is but a cruel mistress and said Zarya gets said grav off, sucking your own Russian tank and Tracer-turned-Soldier into her hell void.  Not even your well-timed nade can save them from the Genji that dragon blades directly into their faces.  Your poor Lucio dies to the same ult and you imagine you or your Widow are next.  Your Hog’s just respawning, his lumbering silhouette not even on screen.

“Rip,”  says your boyfriend - like the sound, not the letters - from beside you, a droplet of water splashing across your wrist when he shakes his head.  He looks disappointed - as if he’s the one that’s lost the match.  It makes you laugh, the sound tripping off your tongue despite the overwhelming rage you’re currently battling.  

“Rip is right,”  you mumble back, tossing yourself off the map.  If you’re gonna die, it'll be on your own terms.  Jungkook chuckles at that.  

By the time you respawn, both you and Widow are joining a fight that looks like it’s going surprisingly well.  There’s no one on point and you’re capping uncontested.  Widow even headshots a wayward Moira.

“You should go top left.”  

You don’t turn your head.  Jungkook’s always been a bit of a backseat gamer, whether he’s watching your stream while he’s out of town or sitting right beside you.  Sometimes, you love it;  other times, you hate it.  Most times, though, he’s right.  He has surprisingly good game sense, despite being lower ranked than you (something you remind him of constantly, without shame). 

“Can we go top left?”  You parrot into your speaker.

For once, your team listens, most of them running up the sidewall with Widow right down main.  Not for the first time you wish you were playing Mercy, if only to be able to damage boost your sniper while she distracts the enemy team.  Still, you make due, taking your boyfriend’s next piece of advice when it comes, unsolicited.  “You should be back right by the stairs.  You can see up the hall and still heal Widow on top.”

You’d kiss him if you weren’t so intently focused, unable to tear your gaze from the screen when the enemy team seems to pluck their strategy directly from Jungkook’s skull and hold conservatively on point.  Amazing.

“Your Zarya has grav.  She’ll probably throw it on point so you should nade as soon as you get in and Widow can pick them off without full charge.”

If he were anyone else, you’d probably be giving him hell for mansplaining your favourite game to you.  As it stands, you follow his instructions to the letter and the Team Kill marker flashes across your screen. 

“Told you,”  he quips, ever the snooty dork you adore. 

“I was going to say thank you.”  Just not right now.  You can’t multitask quite like he can. 

If you could look over, you think you’d see him grinning from ear to ear, buck teeth and dimples on full display.  “I know.”

As it stands, the other team has trouble getting on point fast enough and you’re left with a whopping 3:56 left on the clock.  Thank freaking god.  You can win this, you think.  Easy.  No problem. 

“Go Ana on defense.”  At some point, Jungkook had gotten up to find a snack and he returns now, bag of shrimp chips in his hand and packet of matcha Pocky held between his teeth.  You open your mouth for a stinky tasty treat and he shoves four crisps in, unceremoniously and with his signature dummy grin. 

You manage to crunch crunch crunch through it all but shoot him a glare the entire time.  He only smiles wider, all perfectly white enamel and enough cuteness to make your heart skip a beat. 

“Do you just want to play?”  You don’t mean it seriously.  You don’t mind him watching and you know he enjoys pretending like he’s better than you.  It’s a strange give and take but one that’s uniquely yours, built over nearly a year of online friendship and another year of a real-life relationship. 

“Nah, I’m snacking.”  He punctuates his response as a child would, shoving a handful of chips into his mouth.  You wonder, briefly, why you love him so much when he’s a certifiable goon. 

The third match begins and you’re not too proud to say you spend most of it following Jungkook’s directions.  He tells you to sleep the enemy Genji trying to scale the right wall - you do.  He tells you to nade once their Rein gets in because your own Rein is going to shatter - you do.  He tells you to do the macarena and— okay, that, you don’t. 

You sweep the match, leaving the other team without a single tick.  

When it comes to the final round, he seems to have lost interest in the game, instead rolling himself back to his computer with a parting, wayward ruffle of your hair.  You don’t blame him but you thank him nonetheless, blowing a kiss before he settles his headphones over his ears. 

You, of course and unsurprisingly, win the game.  There’s nothing like using a Sym portal onto point when they’ve got a Bastion set up off point and no shield to protect him from the back. 

Satisfied, you don’t bother requeueing and instead force yourself into your boyfriend’s personal space, draping your arms across the idol’s neck as he scrolls through YouTube like a zombie.  “We won,”  you sing-song into his ear, proud and a little smug. 

“Of course you did.”  He sounds equally smug and you suppose the win does belong to the both of you.  He’d been a great coach. 

“What’re you doing here?”  It’s pure curiosity offered in the form of a kiss to his cheek, fingers locked across the broad expanse of his chest.  He’s delightfully warm beneath you, familiar and unyielding as you sink over the back of his computer chair.  (You can feel the chair creaking as it reclines.  You don’t care.) 

“Whaddya mean?”

The look he levels you with makes you think you’ve grown a second head.  

“Your schedule said you had a thing tonight.”  You remember, because you’d been disappointed.  Halloween was one of your favourite holidays and all you’d wanted was to watch some campy horror movies and use him as a personal eye shield and security blanket combo.

“We have a thing,”  he states, like he’s talking to a moron.  You know it isn’t meant meanly, too emphatic and amused to hurt your feelings.  

When you echo his words (“We?”) you swear you see him roll his eyes in the reflection of his computer screen.  Luckily, he laughs, sweet and cracky, somewhere high in his throat - a barking hyena.  It’s so cute - your favourite thing in the world - that you don’t have it in you to shame him for it. 

“Yeah, we,”  Jungkook repeats around something close to a snicker.  “Halloween party, baby.  Seriously— you forgot?”

It’s then and there you have two crises:  (a) you don’t have a costume and (b) Halloween party?  You didn’t think idols had those.  Weren’t they all too hip and cool to get together to dress up and act stupid?

(You know the answer is no.  Exhibit A being the costume-wearing dance practices BTS put out.)

“I don’t have anything to wear.”  It’s truly the one thing holding you back, creasing the soft skin between your brows to resemble a peach.  It’s also nearing seven in the evening and you’re absolutely certain you’re not going to find something so late in the day. 

To your surprise. Jungkook looks flabbergasted, that same you-have-two-heads stare wrought across his face.  It’d be endearing if it were directed at anyone else but with it trained on you, it’s rubbing you and your confusion the wrong way.  Why’s he looking at you like that?  Why’s your memory so bad?  Why hasn’t he said anything to answer all of life’s questions? 

“You said you’d go as witch Mercy.”

All at once, you’re pulled back to the offhand conversation, the pleading in his eyes, your half-asleep acceptance.  It’s the memory you’d lost somewhere along the way in upgrading your in-brain video game storage.  A conversation had in bed, his cheeks so big and full of joy they’d waned his eyes into crescents, and your uncoordinated answer because you’d just wanted to go to sleep and not think about anything after indulging in a few too many mochi cream buns. 

“I— don’t remember that.”  You’re lying through your damn teeth.  Your parents would be devastated, all their hard earned money wasted on the braces-straightened enamel that was now letting lies pass. 

“But you did!”  He’s like a kid being denied candy, rounded bottom lip dropping into a pout that should, frankly, be illegal.  It’s far too powerful on him, paired with those Bambi eyes that scream don’t eat (hate/deny/etc.) me!  You can only scowl at him, because you know your own puppy dog eyes only work 100% of the time half of the time whereas his track record was immaculate. 

“Okay, but I forgot to get the—“

“I have it!”

Jeon Jungkook has an answer for everything, it seems.

“I picked it up on the way here.  It’s in your room along with my costume.”

The knowledge of his own intrigues you, squarely centring your curiosity on that and not the fact that you apparently need to get tested for early onset dementia.  “Who’re you going as?”

“You’ll see.”

Your costume is spectacular.  You can’t even find it in yourself to put up much of a fight when your boyfriend reveals it like you’ve won the lottery, throwing his arms wide in a flourish. 

It’s incredibly well made, intricately tailored in a way that makes you worry how much it costs.  (When you bring it up to him, Jungkook simply shrugs.  You think it’s as much a gift for you as it is for him.)  It’s witchy and eye-catching, the belt hung across your hips clipped with an actual book - hollowed out, thank god but also poor thing.  The hat that sits on your head is neatly crumpled, sitting at such an angle you worry whether you’ll need to avoid too-low door frames.  Your wings - well, you’re almost too afraid to touch them;  Jungkook has to help you pull them over your arms, falling into near hysterics when you twitch your elbow the wrong way and smack him right between the eyes.  

“I don’t think I can pull this off,”  you state, somberly, despite the fact that you’re not terribly self-conscious.  (You were, once.  Being in a relationship with someone that worships your body has helped with that.) 

The top of your outfit is fitted, boned and ribbed and snapped together in all the right places.  Leather stands in stark contrast to your skin - summer-soft and gently golden - and hugs curves that don’t quite exist, falling short in a way that has you glaring down at your own chest.  You’ve never wanted a Playboy body but in this sort of costume, it practically demands it.  (You try not to dwell on the fact that you’ve been conditioned to want to look like an impractically designed video game hero.)

From the foot of your bed comes a snort, a derisive sound that draws your attention.  Jungkook’s unabashed in how he admires you, stare roving over every inch like he’s about to devour you.  You’re not sure how you can feel so soft for him when he looks completely the opposite, jaw set and expression sharp.  A Greek god carved from hardened honey, dressed in Balenciaga blue.  “You look great, angel.”

Your heart skips a beat - plays a funny little game of tag with itself - and you can’t help the smile that comes, brought to life by his reassurance.  It isn’t necessary to rebuff him then - eyes rolling, laugh spilling - but you do it anyway.  “You have to say that.  You’re my boyfriend.” 

“I don’t have to say anything,”  he retorts, levelling you with a look that has your insides molten.  It’s the look that reads don’t test me but also I love you and you’re my idiot.  It’s your favourite look in the world, lending wings to your flimsy heart.  “You look great because you always look great, no matter what.”

“What about when you found me in the shower ?”

Jungkook hesitates then.  He’s no liar and he had almost had a heart attack the first time it’d happened.  He’d been minding his business, half-asleep and battling the need to piss, when he’d noticed you curled up in the bathroom.  How he hadn’t realised you were missing from bed, he’s not sure.  All he knew was that you’d terrified him, mentioning something about invading refrigerators when he was pulling his dick out of his boxers.

His scream was what had woken you up;  yours was what had him bashing his head into the wall, foot slipping on the soft pink bathroom rug.  You could laugh about it now but at the time, you’d thought he’d cracked his skull right open, shouting his name so loudly the neighbours had complained.  

(Lucky for you two, they were a nice elderly couple who sometimes had you babysit their grandson.  They’d laughed it off when you’d apologised with a loaf of fresh bread and a bandage wrapped around your boyfriend’s head.)

“Okay—  that was scary.  I thought you’d crawled out of the drain or something.”  A shudder rolls through Jungkook’s body, shaking him from his shoulders all the way down to his knees.  It’s a strangely adorable reaction from someone who looks like he could bench press you.

“You’re calling me the Grudge?”  You’re deeply offended, gloved hands clasping over your chest as if to pull out the treacherous dagger he’s just lodged there.  He only rolls his eyes, leaning forward to catch you in his arms;  he’s relentless as he drags you to him, side of his face pressed to the bare skin of your thigh.  His cheek’s searing but you’re not surprised;  Jungkook ran hot, keeping you warm in winter and sweltering in summer.  (Ah, the price you paid for love.)

“Yeah, you haunt me in my dreams.”

“That’s not the Grudge, Kook.”  Your scoff earns you a pinch, right where the top of your stockings end.  It blooms red beneath his fingers, a little reminder of his competitive I’m-never-wrong nature.  You swat his hand away, not too bothered when it only finds a home elsewhere, hooked behind your knee.  Jungkook had a habit of needing to be in constant contact.  A little quirk of his you adored.

“I’m serious.  You look—”  You should clock the look on his face, the wiggle of mischief up his nose.  A dead giveaway shining bright - a beacon.  “—bewitching.”

If the book weren’t attached to your hip, you’d be clobbering him with it.  Instead, you’re left to whack him with the equally intricate Caduceus staff, booping it over his shoulders.  You feel like a certain shamanic mandrill, Jungkook the idiotic lion that’s asking for an earful.

“Shut up!”  You’re laughing despite yourself and he is too, holding you so recklessly close it’s hard to hit him without hurting yourself.  All part of his plan, you suppose.  “You’re so freaking corny.”

“It’s because I’m a-maize-ing, ang—”

Another wap! to the head, shielded only by a tattooed hand that curls over his ear.  

“Okay!  Sorry!”  Except he doesn’t look very sorry.  More pleased that you’ve stopped the assault, dark hair pushed back from his forehead as he stares up at you.  You hate how he’s so handsome - how you forget yourself when he smiles that smile, nearly yeeting your whole heart directly into the sun.

“Are you going to put on yours yet?”  

It’s quarter past nine already and all you’ve done is rope him into eating some chapaguri - you’ve been obsessed with it since a few weeks ago - and play real life Witch Barbie.  You have a feeling if you don’t get him into his own costume soon, you’re never going to leave the apartment.  (Not that you really mind.)  

Your boyfriend - bless his heart - pretends not to hear you, suddenly intently focused on an indiscernible spot past your hip.  It’d be more believable if he was glued to his phone or doing anything remotely interesting.  Instead, you stare down at him and count the seconds until he realises just how silly he looks.  It usually comes around six, paired with a forced chuckle and that lisp you love. 

Today, it comes after the fourth count. 

“You’re gonna think it’s lame.”  Well, of course you will.  As his girlfriend - and one of his best friends, you’d like to think - it’s your relationship-given right to shame him for his more often than not absurd ideas.  It’s what you deserve for suffering through all his bad jokes and 3 AM Instagram spams. 

With a hand on his cheek, you squeeze the apple like you’ve seen a certain member do a million times.  “So?”

He’s not really sure how to respond to that, mouth drawn into a pout that reminds you of children’s television show about penguins.  It’s unfairly adorable.  Still, you push.  Jungkook’s bad at saying no to you - always has been, even before he really knew you.  From “one more game!” to “bring me bingsu”, you always got what you wanted. 

(Which wasn’t to say you asked for a lot.  You were happy - more than that, ecstatic and over the moon - with the bare minimum.  A selfie while on the plane, some shoddy cinematography during dance practice, a voicemail to wake up to.  You didn’t love Jungkook for all the things he gave you;  rather, you loved him for who he was, who he’d always been even before you knew who he really was.)

“Don’t laugh.”  By the look on his face, you’re worried it’s something awful.  The cheesiest thing in the world come to life to haunt you on your beloved spooky holiday. 

It turns out to be the opposite:  one of your favourite characters realised in the form of your achingly handsome boyfriend.  He looks so good you’re not certain whether it’s your attraction to him or him in that particular guise that’s stronger.  You figure it doesn’t matter one way or another.  For tonight, they’re one and the same. 

“Joker?  Seriously?”  You can’t hide the delight.  It colours every syllable, sets them glowing like a neon sign.

Your boyfriend only rolls his eyes, as if he’d predicted this reaction.  Dressed as he is, the movement is impossible to miss, brought into focus by the white domino mask.  “Don’t sound so excited.”  It’s an actual concern of his.  He’s seen you sink upwards of ninety hours on the video game, playing it in the early hours when he’s fast asleep and you’re battling another night of insomnia.  

Once, he’d asked whether you loved him or Joker more.  He hadn’t liked the answer (joking as it was) and had spent the better part of the evening pouting. 

This time, you’re sweet as pie, eyes so dark and twinkly he wonders whether he’s staring at the night sky.  You wonder the same yourself almost every night, lost in the constellations of his irises.  It’s the most intimate form of stargazing you can afford, a luxury you indulge in frequently.  You’ve mapped the different formations, named them in honour of all the special moments you’ve shared;  you think to label one for this night too.

“You look so good.”  You don’t hesitate to brush his hair from his eyes.  It’s still relaxing from the perm he’d gotten days ago, curling like classic calligraphy over his eyes.  It’s surprisingly soft between your fingers, silk despite the constant heat styling.  Bastard.  “I can’t believe you’re going as Joker.  You don’t even like Persona 5!”

By how Jungkook looks at you then - the same way he did the first time you met standing on the street corner in Dotonbori and a hundred more times since then - you realise it doesn’t matter.  He’s dressed this way because you like the character.  

“Oh,”  you say, because there’s not much more to say.  Nothing that needs to be said as he grins down at you, so heartbreakingly handsome you’ll never get used to it. 

“Yeah,”  he parrots back, a little smug.  

Bangtan’s golden maknae is having the time of his life.  He’s four cups deep into a game of beer pong that’s played like the Wimbledon classic, back hunched, jaw set.  You’d think he was battling it out for the title of God of Beer Pong if you didn’t know better.  (You suppose he is.)  

“Angel, come here!”  He’s giddy - slightly glazed in the eyes - as he waves you over, a red-gloved hand beckoning you to his side.  Despite how good he looks in the costume - every weakness of yours encapsulated by the intricate dress shirt that hugs him like a second skin - the gesture is decidedly adorable, an eager puppy seeking unconditional love.  There’s simply too much affection in his voice, so much sugar-spun love that you can’t deny him (even as you consider jumping his bones at a party full of people).   

He’s shining as bright as the sun and you want nothing more than to live within his warmth.  

With your fingers twined, he pulls you to him, drawing you tight against his side like he doesn’t need that same hand to throw another ball.  You don’t mind.  You know he’ll sink it even with his left hand.  

“I’m winning,”  he states, as if it weren’t wildly obvious by the fact all cups remain untouched on his side.  

Across the table, Yugyeom’s eyes roll so far back you want to laugh.  Jungkook’s competitive side is endearing at best and infuriating at worst.  Luckily, his competition is enjoying himself too much to give him shit.  

(He’s also probably too drunk to, given how badly he’s doing.)

“I see that.”  You’re not a big drinker yourself but you like seeing Jungkook in his element.  He thrives in this sort of setting, showing off all the talents he has and then some.  It’s just another stage to him, somewhere he can prove himself (even if it’s over something as small as how good his bounce-shot is).  “How many games have you won?”  Because he’s been at this table for the last hour, dropping his competition like flies.

“All of them.”  God, his ego.  You know you shouldn’t stroke it but you can’t help it, brushing a hand through his tousled hair in the way he likes best.  Fingers over his scalp, thumb rubbing soothing circles across the nape of his neck.  He nearly melts then, tilting his head into the gentle caress.

“Good job, Kook.”

You’re so lost in your own little world that poor Yugyeom has to pull you both from it, launching a poorly-aimed white ping pong ball at the two of you.  To no one’s surprise, it careens past your heads, hitting the wall behind you and disappearing off to god knows where.  

“Can we play?”  Again, that eye roll, visible just past the bandages that loosely wrap his cheeks.  You know he’s only teasing, that he’s actually quite a fan of your and Jungkook’s dumb coupling (he’s told you), but you return his mockery with a raised hand, thumb and forefinger waving in salute.  

“Losers don’t get to complain.”

The idol throws a hand to his chest, the gesture bordering on sloppy from the liquor that threads his limbs.  Still, it’s cute, earning a sweet laugh from you and a witch’s cackle from your boyfriend.  (How fitting.)  “I’m hurt, Yoojin-ssi.”

It’s Jungkook’s turn to tease, brattiness flipped on like a haywire lightswitch.  “No, you’re just bad at games!”  He’s a sniggering schoolgirl, lines wrapping the delicate skin of his nose, streaking joy into the wrinkles beneath his eyes.  Slightly-too-big front teeth are on full display, his expression the embodiment of an “uwu” emote.

That riles Yugyeom up, powder puff of hair bounding over to you before you have time to blink.  In the next moment, your boyfriend’s half-wrestling with him, their arms locked around each other like some sort of weird four-limbed octopus.  (Video game protagonist vs. hot mummy— who will win?)  You jump back just in time, avoiding a wayward fist and laughing merrily.  Idiots, the both of them.

“You guys have fun.”  And then you’re gone, off to busy yourself with people who won’t accidentally give you a black eye or knock over the nearest thing not bolted to the ground.  

You can still hear them tussling when you latch yourself to the back of a certain blond.  He’s dressed like one of your greatest nightmares - an actual clown, drawing inspiration from a certain 2017 blockbuster - and yet somehow still manages to look good. You don’t understand it and frankly, you’re a little envious, but such was life. 

“Jimin-ssiiiii.”  

“Ahhhhhh, stop!”  It’s the same reaction he always has, paired with wiggling shoulders and sweet laughter that bounces around the room and stirs to life your own.  Indisputable and lovely, the sound is brighter than the sun or the lights that currently swing through the chandelier lights above your heads.  “You two are ridiculous.”

“He’s ridiculous, not me!”  You know it isn’t true.  Separately, you and Jungkook were idiotic enough, finding humour in the silliest things (funny threads on r/Relationship_Advice and four year old Vines).  But together?  It was a two-person circus, graduate professors at clown college.  

You absolutely loved it. 

“Sure, sure,”  the dancer hums, delightfully disbelieving as he takes another shot.  One of three lined up across the counter, clear in little orange cups made to look like pumpkins.  A whiff tells you they’re strawberry soju - your least favourite flavour.  You decline with a wrinkled nose and waving hand when he offers you one.  Jimin shrugs and downs the next, delicately wiping the corner of his mouth when he misjudges the pour.  “Aren’t you drinking?”

You wiggle the half-empty Cass bottle in your hand in response and receive a scoff, different bottle - green, unopened - thrust into your other.  

“Drink this!”  

“You want me to drink an entire bottle?”  You’re incredulous.  Jimin’s seen you on the edge of intoxication and more than a little sloppy, giggling like a schoolgirl.  It’s not unbecoming - you know better than to get blackout - but laughable nonetheless.  Something to record and post on Snapchat with a voice-altering filter.

“It’s Halloween!”  The pumpkin shot glass makes you go cross-eyed before he’s knocking it back too.  “Live a little!”

Who are you to say no to the recent birthday boy?  It would simply be bad manners and you were nothing if polite (though, you’re sure some might beg to differ - Yoongi, maybe?). 

The remnants of your beer are swallowed down in the next moment, so quickly you almost choke on it.  Your life flashes before your eyes, Jimin’s hand on your shoulder as he beats breath into your body.  “Don’t die!”  He cries, despite the fact that it’s his fist that’s making it worse, doubling you over with hacking coughs.

“K-Kook’s g-going to kill you—”  

“No, you’re fine.”  He’s reassuring you just as much as himself, laughing too loudly as you straighten up.  You wonder how red your face is when he takes your place, slapping his own knee as he shakes with amusement.  “Your face, oh—  Your face.”

It’s not meant to be offensive but your buzzed brain demands payment for each giggle.

The base of the green bottle collides with the back of his knee - gentle, gentle - just hard enough to have him properly toppling over, collapsing onto the carpet like a frail old grandpa without his cane.  You can’t help the snicker that careens off your liquor-laden tongue.

That is, until he’s pulling you down with him and the two of you are a giggling, giddy mess, tucked beneath the edge of the bar as you laugh together.  It’s a chorus of sound, unrelenting and building the longer you both sit on the floor.  Jimin’s practically hunched over, head caught between his propped up arms.  You imagine it’s a funny sight - two people in their twenties acting like college freshmen.

“Baby?”  It’s your boyfriend, amused and confused as he stares down at your and Jimin’s prone bodies.  He’s got that dent between his brows, the colour of his eyes all but swallowed up by the way his cheeks press wide with his smile.  “What’re you doing down there?”  

“Just hanging out,”  you answer, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.  At your side, Jimin’s still trying to collect himself, parroting your words around his lungfuls of quieting laughter.

“Are you drunk?”

You’re not, but that doesn’t stop you from gasping, overdramatic and with your unopened bottle of soju held aloft.  A modern day olive branch.  “No?”

Jungkook snorts and then all at once, he’s close.  Too close - smelling of beer and your favourite cologne of his, citrusy and woodsy and every other nice thing you like.  It fills your senses just as his smile does, blindingly bright and bunny-like.  Even behind the mask, his good looks take your breath away.  You must be staring up at him idiotically, all one hundred and sixteen pounds of ooey gooey tenderness.  “You sound drunk, angel,”  he teases, warm red-covered palm coming to cradle your cheek.  It sears heat everywhere it touches, guiding the same hue over your skin.  It creeps up your chest and over your ears, standing in contrast to the material of his gloves.  “Pretty.”

(He really is, you think.)

“Get a room,”  comes Jimin from beside you.  There’s no malice in his voice - just soft affection for a couple of lovesick idiots.  

“That’s the plan,”  Jungkook replies, as if he’d been waiting for the moment.  It skips off his tongue and settles into your ears, tipping your head curiously as you stare at him.  He’s never been very shy about wanting you - at least, not since you’d made things official, so many months ago - but you’re surprised by the insinuation.  When he speaks again, you realise your brain has been rolling around in the gutter, fallen out of your ears like candy from a worn pillow case.  “Want to head home?”

You do.  You really, really do.   

When you stumble into your apartment - the same one with the polka-dot welcome rug and crisp white paint - you realise you were perhaps wrong about how drunk you are.  Everything’s coming at you quite quickly, the ground beneath your feet somehow suddenly rushing at you like Mach Five.

“Whoa—”  There’s an impossibly solid warmth against your back, fingers locked around your wrists that feel more like flimsy chicken feet.  “Careful.”

Your boyfriend’s keeping you upright while stepping out of his boots - impossibly expensive supple dark leather - and you’re giggling all the while, practically sinking against him as he does his best to shuffle his shoes away and get you further into the hallway.  “Sorry,”  you offer in a terrible stage whisper, smiling wide when you catch sight of his, small and endlessly amused.  It slips across his face even as he tries to bite it back, warring with the patience he holds in spades.

“Let’s just get these off.”  He means the boots - the intricate, vaguely absurd things that creep up almost the entirety of your leg, neatly wrapped and knotted midway up your thigh.  Dexterous as he is, it’s a task to unravel the strings and thread buttons when you’re weighing on him like a bag of bricks.

You’re fumbling for the tops, haphazardly smacking his hands away.  “Here, let me.”  

Somehow, you manage to get them off in what feels like record time.  (In reality, it takes a good five minutes of futility before they’re left on the ground and Jungkook’s swept you into his arms, seemingly over waiting for you to do much else.)

“Oh, my prince charming,”  you tease, clinging to him like a koala.  You’re locked around him, practically suffocating him, but he doesn’t seem to mind.  He’s used to it when you’re this way, just a little too much liquid courage turning your level of affection to eleven.  “Or are you the court jester?  That’s what Joker is, right?”  It’s a joke and a bad one at that.  Still, your boyfriend indulges you, depositing a forced laugh against your shoulder as he navigates to your bedroom.  

“You’re drunk.”  He says it more kindly than you expect.  Perhaps even more kindly than you deserve.  You know he’s not exactly sober himself, his gaze verging on heavy-lidded.  There’s sleepiness blending seamlessly with intoxication, softening the edge of his jaw, the narrow of his stare.  It’s terribly tender, skipping your heart when you look at him dead on.

It comes without thought.  You have to tell him.  Your drunk brain and your puppy dog heart demand it.  “I love you.”

Jungkook returns the confession with humour, eyes sparkling despite the haze of alcohol that dims them down.  As always, he indulges you, giving you support in the form of his heart and his hands.  (Literally, he’s still holding you even though you’ve reached your destination.)  “Love you too.”

“Is it time for bed?”  You’re surprisingly tired, despite the fact that you’d slept until late in the afternoon.  You certainly wouldn’t mind falling face first into your mattress.

“You need a shower first.”  It’s a simple statement of fact, you know that.  You’ve got at least ten pounds of makeup on and your hair’s the furthest thing from soft and silky, carefully coiffed to mimic Mercy’s signature style.  You still pretend like you’re just a bit offended, scowling into the face of your boyfriend even as he rolls his eyes, already somehow able to read the words written into your expression.  “I meant we and no, I’m not calling you stinky.”

He’s stolen your thunder, as he so often does.  You pout, as you so often do. 

“Okay,”  you relent, finally, moving to rest your head against his shoulder.  You could get down - walk on your own two tired feet - but you’re enjoying the closeness, how warm and real he feels in comparison to the swimming surroundings.  “Will you wash my hair?”  You don’t really need to ask but do anyway, because you like the sound of his voice when it’s so close.

“You know I will.”  Because he always does when you shower together (and it falls on a designated hair washing day - that was important).  

You offer your thanks with a kiss, laid right over the jumping pulse in his neck.  When Jungkook hums in acknowledgment, you feel the way the muscles constrict, his Adam’s apple jumping beneath your lips.  You zero in on it with laser precision, mouthing over his throat.  Somewhere above you - against the shell of your ear - he exhales a laugh, breath hot.

“We’re showering, baby.”  As if that’s meant to stop you.  He, more than anyone, should know how adamant you get, singularly focused on whatever’s got your attention.  He’s been on the receiving end of it more than enough times, strung into playing another one, two, ten matches of Overwatch or hunting down the limited edition Funko Pops that now sit proudly on your white shelf (and behind your plants and on the ledge by the front door).

“We can shower and have fun,”  you mumble into the expanse of his chest.  He’s so pleasantly warm, unyielding and firm and so, so comfortable.  You think you could live in the feeling of his arms.  (You’re lucky you get to.)  You don’t even mind the sudden cold of the counter or the space that forms between you when he sets you down, because he’s still caging you in where it matters most.  “Right, JK?”

It’s a nickname you rarely use now - one that only comes out in times of desperation.  You’ve never quite understood why it affects your boyfriend the way it does, stuttering the rhythmic beating of his heart, but you love it nonetheless.  It makes you grin, high on power and giddy with nothing but sweetness.  

He’d explained it to you once.  Jay was how you’d met him, the version of himself you’d loved first.  Jungkook was the side of himself he’d wanted to give you but couldn’t.  JK was the in-between - the chaos and the calm.  Hearing you say it brought back all the memories of year one and he liked that.  You could only laugh at his sentimentality and tuck the piece of knowledge somewhere deep, to be pulled out in instances like this.

“Right, angel.”  You don’t miss the colour on his cheeks - so pretty you reach your hands out to cup them, squishing them between your palms like an old grandmother testing a watermelon.  You continue to hold him until he pulls your hands from his face, guiding them to the edge of the counter with gentle pressure.  “Gotta get undressed to shower,”  he chides, that twinkle in his eye that makes it hard to look away.

Really, how can he expect you to do anything when he’s got an entire unexplored galaxy hidden in his irises?  It’s an absurd ask.

“Or I’ll help you.”  

Your clothes fall away while you’re still staring up at him.  

First, the gloves, peeled from your fingers with utmost care.  Kisses fill the spaces between each finger, passed from knuckles to wrist, all the way up to your elbow.  You squirm when his teeth graze the sensitive underside of your bicep.  He stifles a snicker into the skin.

Next goes your cape and wings, hung on the door handle.  His mouth warms the suddenly bare skin, pressing affection into the line of your shoulder, up over your neck.  You don’t squirm this time, instead humming a noise of delight.  You hardly notice when the corset goes next, undone by surprisingly nimble inked digits.  There’s hardly a moment to savour the freedom - you can finally breathe - when his hands replace the cups, palms eager over your chest.  He doesn’t hesitate to hold you, pinching your perked nipples with a sly grin.

“I thought we were going to shower.”  The words are barely out before turning breathless, stolen by the way he easily palms your breast, dropping his face into the crook of your neck. 

“We are, angel,”  Jungkook teases, rolling your bud between his thumb and forefinger, other hand moved to splay across the now-bare small of your back.  It’s almost embarrassing how easily you fall into him, drawn against him like a moth to a flame.  “Just need to get you warmed up first.”    

“The shower’ll be warm,”  you say - or think you say, anyway.  It isn’t quite articulated, half your brain left somewhere at the party (or maybe caught dead centre in the coil that’s tightening in your stomach).  

“Do you want me to stop?”  It’s so quiet you almost miss it, too distracted by how he slips the rest of your costume off.  Shorts, thong, stockings, silly witch’s hat.  “Tell me if you want me to stop, baby.”  Ever the gentleman, he’s patient, meeting your glazed stare with something close to concern.  You almost laugh in his face then - stopping short only when you note just how serious he is, the tell-tale set of his jaw shining like a familiar beacon.  

You return your hands to his face, palms cradling his chin like he might break otherwise.  “I never want you to stop.”  

That’s all Jungkook needs before he’s slotting himself between your legs, mirroring your motion with hands creeping up the side of your neck, fingers ascending into the roots of your hair.  He holds you close and kisses you like it’s all he’s ever wanted.  “I love you,”  he breathes, speaks against the corner of your mouth.  

You parrot the words back at him and he grins, stepping away in the next moment.  He laughs when you pout, offering a kiss in apology as he undoes the buttons of his dress shirt, slipping the soft cotton off.  You stop then, entranced by the revealed skin, how it shifts with each adjustment of muscle, sinew tight over his arms and shoulders.  You wonder, not for the first time, how you’d managed to luck out so spectacularly.  

“Start the shower.”  

You hop down with the direction, slipping past him to do exactly that.  You don’t miss the way he rotates, brings himself closer as you move away.  The magnetism is undeniable - always has been.

“I love you,”  he states, again, bare against your back as you hover by the edge of the glass door, one hand stuck past to test the slow-warming stream.  He’s solid, familiar and comfortable, as he slinks his arms back around you, heat burning the shape of his hands over your ribs, the shape of your hip.  You think he might mark himself there, just as neatly as the floral ink does.  You wouldn’t mind.

The water is welcome, bathing the both of you in steam when you step inside.  It’s an incredibly relaxing feeling, being caught between the spray and the hard body behind you.  You hum a noise of pure delight, turning your face toward the one that nuzzles itself into your neck, and bring your hands to rest over his, fingers slotting between ink.  

“Hair?”  You’re not in a terrible rush but you like redirecting his attention (pretending to, at least) - the teasing that formed the base of your relationship presenting itself in the quiet reminder.  It earns the laugh you expect, muffled into your hair, featherlight over the delicate shell of your jewelled ear.  

“Patience, baby.”  It’s something Jungkook tends to say a lot, whether waiting in queue in Overwatch or in bed, with you a complete mess.  He repeats it easily, like he’s the poster boy for the virtue.  (He isn’t.)

“What am I waiting—”  The question dies, swallowed whole by the gasp he draws from you with a wandering hand.  Fingers slip across your stomach, digits deftly seeking out warmth as if you weren’t already enveloped in it.  It’s a touch that’s tantalisingly slow, unfairly light, but it still makes you keen when it drags over your lips.  A single digit pushes past muscle - so shallow you’re not sure you’re not just imagining it - before retreating, dragging your slick back up to your clit.  The moment the pad of his finger makes contact with the sensitive bundle of nerves, you almost jump.  Would, if he weren’t caging you with his other arm.  

You feel the cold of his teeth bared against your neck then, the throaty laugh that pulls out of his chest and deposits itself into your hair.  “Patience,”  he repeats, swirling his fingers over your clit, his mouth moving in tandem with the twist of his wrist.  He peppers love and affection in the form of kisses, presses devotion with the edge of his teeth, soothes all your nerves with a sweep of his tongue. 

“Kook,”  you sigh, already well on your way to being a boneless mess.  There’s tingling in your toes, fizzing in your stomach, butterflies in your chest.  A whirlwind of emotion and sensation that he stirs to life effortlessly.  

“Relax for me.”  You do so because it’s easy, because he’s so devastatingly good to you.  

The figure eights skating over your clit cease, fingers dropping further down to nestle against your cunt. He pauses there, almost experimentally flexing against the muscle that aches and clenches around nothing, eager for more.  You think he’s smirking by the way his lips form with his kisses, a little lopsided and devilish.  (You wish you could see him.) 

A single digit enters you then, to the third knuckle as if your body was made for this, for him.  (It was.)  He coos against your neck when a garbled mess skips off your tongue and nearly laughs when another slips in alongside it, turning the mess into nonsense.  Despite how badly you want it - need it, really - it’s a sensation that’s too much and not enough all at once, toeing the line between pleasure and pain.  

It was how Jungkook loved you - recklessly, shamelessly, in no half measures.  With more love than you could ever hope for, giving you things you didn’t even know how to ask for.

“Relax, angel,”  comes as he begins scissoring both fingers inside you, stretching you out with an otherworldly amount of care.  Even your neglected clit is given some sort of relief - anything to ease the sting of two long fingers - his thumb gliding over it with each stretch of your walls.  He knows exactly where to touch you, how much pressure to apply, and you’re melting, lost in the feeling.  

When he’s had enough and he curls his fingers within you, seeking out that particular spot, you’re trembling, caught off guard.  Heat builds quickly with the precision of which he taps against that spot;  it starts low in your back, climbing each vertebrae of your spine until you’re quivering in his arms.  

“K-Kook.”  It’s both a plea and a demand, nonsensical as he guides you through your orgasm, keeping you upright against him when your knees feel like they might give out.  

“I’ve got you.”  And he does - hook, line, and sinker.  He holds you steady as the pleasure crashes over your head, keeps you anchored to the here and now and the pleasure that rolls through you like a relentless wave.  It sinks beneath your skin, settles heavy into every atom, and he never lets you go.  He’s got you.

When sensation returns - slowly, so slowly it feels like you’re stuck in the Twilight Zone - you only want to turn.  See him, hold him, whisper sweet nothings as you kiss him silly and thank him for his service.  Instead, you’re held in place, two hands firm upon your hips even as you crane your neck to look over your shoulder at him.  You should recognise the look on his face.  “Kook?”

“My turn.”  It’s a statement more than anything, a kind heads-up as he nudges you forward.  There’s that same twinkle in his eye, the only source of light around the pupil that’s blown out, otherwise engulfing the constellations he so normally offers you.  It’s a black hole and one you’d gladly get lost in.  “Hands on the wall, baby.”

You’d never been one for shower sex - it’s too small a space, too much happening at once, a guaranteed freak accident waiting to happen - but you can’t deny him when he asks so nicely.  (It really hadn’t been that nice but you were a certified sucker for one Jeon Jungkook.)

Hands find themselves on the wall, palms flat, fingers splayed.  In the same instance you wiggle your hips, there’s a ghosting touch over your spine.  It trails up and down, soothes the residual heat that lingers, and then slips higher, palm gentle over your throat.  His thumb rubs reassuring circles over the nape of your neck, pressing gently into the sensitive spot behind your ear.  It’s distracting and you realise much needed when he sinks into you with one fluid press of his hips, filling you so full you can’t help the gasp that bounds past your lips and bounces around the glass enclosure.  “Oh fuck,”  he sighs, his grip on your hip tightening incrementally.

He sounds like sin and feels like heaven.  

“Always so good for me.”  Another thing he says, often and without prompting.  It still feels just as good the umpteenth time, sparking pride deep in your chest as he pulls out and drives himself back in, staring in rapt fascination at where your bodies meet.  “Always so perfect for me.”  

“Because I love you,”  you quip, more than a little out of breath and jostled by the way he thrusts into you, measured and with enough force to shake your legs.  

“Love you too, angel.”  He doesn’t need to say it back - you know, can feel it by how he holds you, drives you to brink of insanity with his cock - but he does it anyway.  He always says it back, no matter what, even if he’s half-asleep or distracted.  He’ll never stop saying it.

The hand on your hip falls, slinks across your hip and between your legs, and you’re pushed further forward, his feet gently kicking yours further apart.  Jungkook assaults your clit then, timing each pass with each thrust.  An attempted glance back has fireworks going off before your eyes, specks of pleasure lighting up your vision;  it’s a technicolour lightshow, framing the way his face scrunches, brow set and jaw hard.  He’s determined, focused on bringing you to another orgasm before he hits his own high.  You assist him as best you can, swiveling your hips and grinding back against him even as the coil pulls impossibly tight in your stomach, barely held together by threadbare strings. 

“Kook,”  you whine when the tension becomes too much, hands scrabbling across the wall of the shower.  The same overwhelming tingle sparks beneath your skin, entire body trembling like a leaf when the head of his cock brushes that spot inside you at just the right angle.

He doesn’t relent, rhythm turning almost punishing as he drives you over the edge, launching you headlong into your second orgasm.  You’re not sure how you stay upright, near sobbing when you crash into euphoric bliss, neither his fingers nor his thrusts ceasing.  It’s almost too much and yet you know how close he is, so you push back, whimper words you know he wants to hear.  

“P-please, Kook.  Please.”  You’re reaching a hand back, desperate to interlace your fingers with his.  He gives in easily, catches your hand in his own and plants it on the swell of your hip as he chases his own release with desperation.  “Come for me, Kook.  Fill me up.”

Jungkook does just that, balls tight as he spills himself inside you, hand at your throat so tight you’re seeing stars.  Somehow - with the feeling of him grinding into you, overcome with so much sensitivity - you come for the third time, crying very real tears as the sensation washes over you.  It’s weaker than your first two but unravels you all the same, seeping the energy from your limbs.  You’re grateful for how well he knows you and the fact he catches you before your arms collapse, pulling you to him with gentle movements.  

“I love you,”  he whispers against your temple, out of breath and sweat-slick despite the water that rains down upon you.  

“I love you,”  you answer, pressing a kiss to the hand that still twines with yours.  “But I still need you to wash my hair.”  It’s cheeky and you know it so you don’t even mind when he bites into the meat of your shoulder, leaving a pretty red mark that’ll bloom for the next few days.  “Ow!”

“You’re a brat.”  Said even as he’s reaching for your shampoo bar, teasing it through your roots with practiced movements.  He’s careful despite his scathing tone, gentle despite how he glares at you from the corner of your periphery.  Each tangle is neatly undone and not a single bubble gets in your eye, much to your joy.  

“I thought I was an angel.”  You’re taking a page out of his book, speaking in fluent pout.

He catches your lips with his own, pushing your lathered up head beneath the steady stream when he withdraws and speaks.  Suds run across your cheeks, eyes shielded only by the hand he keeps steady along your hairline.  Even so mean, your boyfriend is still terribly nice.  “You’re my angel - but you’re still a brat.”  

You can’t argue with that. 

tag list.  @neverthefirstchoice​ @youwannabelostandnotbefound​ @snackhobi​

[sombreboy]

Quality time⇢kth x jjk

⇢18+ ⇢pairing: Taehyung x Jungkook ⇢genre: Smut, fluff, mxm, married couple ⇢word count: 3.7k ⇢warnings: Profanity, fluff, smut, daddy kink, sub!jjk, dom!kth, dirtytalk, masturbation, anal, please its fiction use lube and be safe, creampie in da ass

A/N: Serves as a oneshot within the Love Maze series AU, however can also be read on it’s own. Co-written with my lovely @velvetwicebang​​ <3 Banner made by lovely @chimoona​ <3 Thank you xoxo

Jungkook & Taehyung absolutely loved and adored being fathers to little Taeyeon. There's no amount of riches in the entire universe that'd make them even consider trading their lives away. But... they'd be lying if they said they didn't need a break.

Ever since their little girl joined their family, both men have been busier than ever. With Jungkook being a very high demand tattoo artist, he spends the majority of his day putting art on people's skin. Sometimes he'd be able to bring the small one to work with him, but only when all he had to do was sketch-- and even then he'd get less than the ideal amount of work done. But he refused to let Taehyung take all the responsibility by himself. Luckily, Tae's job was not nearly as demanding. He could work on edits of his photos from his very couch with a baby in his lap without issues. Except for when the child was insatiable and wanted her other daddy. Adding to their exhaustion, when they both were actually home, all their energy went to keep Taeyeon happy, fed and clean. They love her so much, but... They've barely been able to show this love to one another.

With all this in mind, Jungkook had decided to plan a surprise for the night dedicated to his husband. From the amount of times he's been babysitting Joon and Jisoo's kids, they finally helped convince Kook to let them take Taeyeon for one night to let them breathe. Jungkook was very hesitant until he finally gave in; only with Taehyung in mind. He needed it.

Jungkook knew Tae would be waiting at home, as Koo had brought their baby with him to work to let the elder get some peaceful work done. After leaving his child at Joon's, he drove home feeling excited. On the way, he picked up some pizza. A simple luxury they've also rarely indulged in lately. Tonight was going to be simple, yet not. Jungkook felt his mouth salivate as he pulled up in the driveway, and it was not because of the pizza.

The exact moment Taehyung heard the familiar squeak of the doorknob, he dismissed his computer to the empty side of the couch. The elder was expecting to be greeted by Jungkook and Taeyeon— like always— but instead, he was met with a box of pizza in place of their baby.

“Kook, where’s Yeonie?” The little girl has been with them for months, it felt out of place not seeing her cute face after a long day of work, “Is she okay? Did something happen to her?” Tae’d been so busy thinking of the worst, that the rare box of pizza in Jungkook’s hold was momentarily forgotten. It was only when his husband had explained to him about the night’s plans that Taehyung visibly relaxed.

“Shit.. I’m so stressed out these days.” The elder sighed, finally looking into Kook’s soft eyes once he’d gotten a hold of himself, “You did this for us?” He looped his arms around Jungkook’s neck, “Baby, thank you. That’s so thoughtful of you..” Taehyung took the box of greasy pizza from his husband’s hand, careless as he sat it down on the coffee table. He plopped down onto the couch, forgetting about his ‘parent image’ for the moment. Tae brought a slice of pizza to his mouth, outwardly moaning at the forgotten flavor. He’s missed this, that’s for sure. “I missed pizza, thank you.” He was clueless as to what Jungkook’s motive was, “Want to watch TV? We still need to catch up on that show.”

"Sure, let's." Jungkook grabbed the remote as he plopped down next to Taehyung, turning the tv on to resume where they had previously attempted to finish half way through a show on Netflix. Kook reached for a greasy piece of the blissful garbage food of his own and quickly had it devoured, all while glancing over at his husband more than he was focusing on the movie. Without their child, it seemed like Taehyung really savored the moment to just be. It was like pieces of the old Taehyung seeped through the cracks of his father persona. Jungkook didn't really need nor want any more pizza, letting Tae eat most of it. The youngers appetite was for something else entirely.

As time passed, Kook allowed Taehyung to enjoy the relaxation of digesting and watching his show, but when deemed enough, Jungkook's patience ran low. Now that the elder got some time to breathe, it was Jungkook's turn to get what he's been yearning for.

"Daddy," Kook murmured coyly, knowing this specific word stirred something in his husband. He reached to caress Tae's cheek with his tattooed knuckles, a gentle way of asking the elder to look at him, "I have something else for you."

The elder found it exceptionally hard to digest his bite of pizza, so he sat the half-eaten piece down, now more intrigued by his husband’s daring words. It’s been so long; his needy cock was extra responsive compared to a few years back. It was obvious he’d been starved of sexual intimacy, every graze of Jungkook’s knuckles drove him mad with lust.

His inviting words were simply the strawberry on top. It was the extra boost the elder needed to finally attend to his own needs. And by the looks of it, his husband desperately needed it too. It was about time they looked after one another.. “Oh yeah?” Taehyung’s tongue swiped over his lips, “What is it?” Excitement was an understatement, and the growing bulge poking at his sweatpants proved that.

Jungkook had Taehyung exactly where he wanted him, aching with anticipation and excitement. It was endearing how easily affected the elder was-- but he couldn't blame him. Kook was just as needy after this long without any intimacy aside from kissing. ''You've been a bit tense lately,'' Kook's words were innocent as he leaned in to place one last sweet kiss on his lips. Now, he wanted anything but sweet, ''Let me take care of you.'' He murmured as his kisses traveled down Taehyung's sharp jaw, groaning into his tanned skin as one hand eagerly tugged at the button of his husband's pants to undo them and slide his long fingers underneath the waistband, ''Missed your big cock,'' Jungkook's words grew filthier, his hot breath moving to caress Taehyung's ear whilst his hand firmly gripped the hardening length, ''Did it miss me?''

Taehyung didn’t know when, but he threw his head back in a moan; the mere touch making him breathless. He’s been deprived of any kind of attention, and with Jungkook’s sneaky hand tightly holding on to his length, Tae felt like he could cum right then and there. The elder held himself back, though. Something told him they wouldn’t have time to themselves often, he wanted to make the moment last. “It missed you so much.. fuck. Wanna be inside my gorgeous husband..” The last part came out breathy, still heavily affected by the younger’s sudden need to take care of him. Hell, Taehyung wasn’t complaining in the slightest, “Bet it’s so tight too after all this time. Lemme get a feel, babe..”

"Anything you wish for," Jungkook cooed as he tugged the elders pants down to pull out his heavy length, grasping Taehyungs hand to place it on his own girth, "Touch yourself slowly." He ordered as he stood up to undo his own pants and pull them down with his underwear in one go, shamelessly exposing his already turgid cock. He pulled his shirt off too, making sure his husband could see everything, "You love seeing me like this?" Kook smile playfully as he grabbed his own length, making a show out of the way he rubbed circles on the wet mushroom head with his thumb. "Wanna help stretch me out with your cock, baby?"

“Mhm..” A strong gulp rippled in Taehyung’s throat, feeding off of his husband’s undivided attention as he stroked himself— slowly, like Jungkook had ordered. He didn’t want to upset the younger; Taehyung wanted to please, “Fuck, I wanna stretch you out like old times, fill you up with my cum..” An excited groan excited past Taehyung’s slightly parted lips. He couldn’t help it; he pumped himself faster. His brows knitted closer together, the wet sounds of his throbbing dick now more alive. “Baby sit on my cock, please.. wanna be in you again.” Taehyung didn’t care about how pathetic he sounded, if it’d get his point across, then he was pleased.

''Ah, how I've dreamed of hearing you say that.'' Jungkook whined as he firmly squeezed his cock, earning an aching throb from it. He felt his ass clench around nothing just from the mere thought of being stuffed full; the memory far from faded. He would never forget how good Taehyung feels, and he couldn't wait to refresh his memory further. Kook let himself go, his rock solid length wet and needy as he leaves it untouched and bobbing while straddling his husband. using his strong hands, he quickly makes work of taking Taehyung's shirt off to make it more fair in terms of nudity, ''Ah, my gorgeous husband... my sexy daddy.'' Jungkook purrs when he feels Tae's cock twitch against the skin of his ass, allowing his large tattooed palms to smooth over the elders soft stomach; less firm these days, a little plushier-- but no matter, it only made him sexier, and a perfect cuddle pillow. Kook's hands continued to travel upwards over Tae's still firm chest as he leaned forward to kiss him deeply, tongue finding it's way to slip into the elders mouth.

Taehyung’s wandering eyes throughout his husband’s face ceased their wandering, now fluttered shut whilst he drowned himself in the heated kiss; not failing to take notice of the bundle of unspoken emotions behind every brush of their tongues. His hands settled on Jungkook’s hips. They itched to pull him down— to give him a taste so he’d return the favor, but instead his warm palms ran along the curve of the younger’s ass, groping the rounded, firm skin. Tae pulled away from the kiss, rosy lips now a small trace of what’s to come, “Sit on daddy’s lap, baby boy. He also wants to take care of you..”

Taehyung roughly parted his husband’s flushed cheeks, flashing Jungkook’s pathetic little hole; just begging to be filled to the absolute brim.

Jungkook's eyes darkened with his growing need to feel Tae's cock stuff him full to the brim, a gasp pushed through his lips when he felt the elders rough, warm hands spread him open, his little hole clenching and unclenching around nothing--but not for long, ''Please, take care of me well..'' Jungkook's words were breathy, he'd spit in his hand before reaching back to wet Taehyung's cock, aligning the thick head with his needy entrance before slowly pushing himself down, far too eager to care about proper preparation-- it was worth it any future discomfort. A drawn out, breathy moan rumbled in Kook's throat at the stretch, eyes never wavering from his husband's expressions, observing and visually devouring every sign of pleasure in his face, ''I'm so tight for you, fuck...''

“O-oh..” Taehyung’s brows knitted closer together, and his eyes vaguely dimmed once Jungkook’s chamber of warmth fully settled in. His cock throbbed inside of his husband, trying to get accustomed to the tightness he once knew so well, but now lacked. “God, you’re so gorgeous..” Taehyung squeezed the younger’s ass, controlling the latter’s movements as he slowly rocked Jungkook’s hips into his own, holding eye contact throughout it all, “My fuckin’ husband, shit, I missed this.” He hissed out loud, drawn to every twist and tug of Jungkook’s face.

"We're g-gonna have to do this more often..." Jungkook's voice broke into a whine when he sunk deeper down on Tae's length, slowly but surely until he's fully stuffed, halting his movements to adjust to the stretch. He took a deep breath to relax his muscles, placing his hands on Taehyungs chest for leverage, "Can't go this long without feeling you again. It's too fucking good.." Kook's eyebrows furrow as they're drawn together, his expression a mix of the pleasure and faint pain. He gently started to grind his hips on his husband, moaning when he feels the bulbous tip brushing against his prostate, his own cock dribbling with beads of precum, "I missed this so much, god.. it feels amazing."

The elder peeked one eye open, his sealed lips twitching as if he was trying to conceal a smile, “Of course it feels amazing, it’s my cock.” A hint of the old Kim Taehyung peered through the cracks, and he had to admit.. it felt fuckin’ great to have zero responsibilities even if it was just for the time being. With his beautiful husband on his dick, Tae was reminded of their earlier; less demanding years. Suddenly, the ‘perfect father’ façade he’d built up in front of everyone else came plummeting down; he felt the most comfortable when faced by Jungkook.

“You good? I know it’s big.” A small smirk quickly shifted into an ‘o’ the moment his husband willingly rocked his hips faster against him, deteriorating Tae’s composure little by little, “Ah shit.. n-not too fast, don’t wanna cum in you yet..”

"I'm great." Jungkook's eyelids fluttered shut in bliss every time his small movements had Tae's cock prodding just the right spot, keeping his hips slow, simply rocking back and forth to still get himself used to the stretch his husbands blessed girth provided. Kook stopped for a moment, letting Taehyung truly feel the warmth embracing him tightly. His eyes opened once more before he leaned forward to cup his husbands face in his hands, stroking his thumbs on the soft skin of his cheeks, "I love you... please fuck me now." Jungkook begged, his doe eyes sparkling with need, "please, baby." Jungkook didn’t have to strain his voice when begging, or get down on his knees— Taehyung was already sold a while ago. He sensually traced the sharp outlines of his husband’s tattoos with his fingertips. And as if the responsive shivers from Jungkook’s painted canvas transmitted from the younger’s biceps to the rest of Taehyung’s body, the elder bit back an eager moan at the familiar sensation. “I’m gonna fuck you so fucking hard for all the other times I couldn’t..” With a feather-like touch, Tae’s bottom lip grazed upwards against the slope of the younger’s neck, gently sucking onto the latter’s unsteady Adam’s apple, “You’re gonna take all of it like a good boy, aren’t you?” His words came out as a low growl, and Taehyung’s hips teasingly grinded into Jungkook’s ass. “You’re gonna make daddy feel so fuckin’ good, there’s no doubt in my mind about it.” The elder pulled back from the other’s flushed skin, seemingly proud with his creation, “gorgeous.” The sweet moment didn’t last long, as Tae grew even needier from the way Kook’s walls closed in on him. He quickly flipped Jungkook over so his back laid on the couch, staring him down like a predator would his prey. Everything about the younger was so... addicting. Even after many years, Taehyung found himself throbbing from his husband’s expressions as he slowly thrusted into him, bending Jungkook’s legs down to his chest for better access, “F-fuck..” Tae bit down on his lip, the small scar on his forehead visible whenever he ran his fingers through his hair, wanting to see the younger clearly. “Want me to go faster?” He raised his brows, “beg then. I love it when you beg for me..”

''Yes,'' Jungkook's dark curls fell off his face to expose his glistening forehead, eyes blown out in the pure admiration and lust that swirled in his dark pools of brown, ''Please go faster, I need it so fucking bad... please." Kook cried out, his hands settling on Taehyung's lower arms in a tight grip to stay grounded, his ass clenching down harshly on his husband's thick girth. The initial pain from the stretch faded with every thrust, instead replaced with nothing but pleasure and feeling so full it makes his heart want to burst out if his rib cage, ''It feels so good, I want more, harder... Don't be gentle.'' His last words came out like a gasp when he felt his cock throb at a particularly angled thrust, pressing his head back against the couch with gritted teeth.

‘Harder’, ‘Faster’, ‘More’... Jungkook’s breathy moans in the shapes of incoherent phrases urged Taehyung to do just that. The man slammed into him— harder. “Wasn’t planning on being gentle, sweetheart,” The elder groaned at his increase of pace, faster like his husband wanted. Like how he wanted; Tae was only playing the superior part, he would’ve drilled into Jungkook minutes prior. But then again, it wouldn’t of been anywhere near as fun.. or thrilling. Taehyung fancied this best, he enjoyed hearing the younger plead for his utmost attention.

“T-tight... so tight.” More. Taehyung's hair dangled over his narrowed eyes, showing Kook no mercy whilst their sweaty skin continuously slapped against one another, the striking sound echoing throughout the empty house, “Tell daddy how you feel, baby..” The muscles in Taehyung’s chest clenched closer together, further showcasing the small tattoo layering his heart; one Jungkook had formerly etched onto his honey skin. Three daffodils; a smaller one in the middle.

"Feel so full, it's so good.." Jungkook's throaty words come out shaky every time Taehyung slams into him, causing his body to jolt upwards. With one hand, he reaches to smooth his palm over the pretty, small tattoo on Tae's chest, his heart swelling with the love he feels for his husband. After everything they've been through, ups and downs-- many downs, here they were still as head over heels for each other as they've always been; now with a family. Another thrust brought Kook back to the present, his blunt nails digging into Tae's arms as a loud cry in pleasure was forced out of the younger. Jungkook's hands travelled to run through his husbands hair, moving the sticky fringe away from his face, "you make me feel so good, so loved. I love your cock." Kook was greedy, and a glutton for being manhandled, and he wanted Tae to really fuck him dumb, like only he could. Both men have pent up stress, and what better way than to fuck it out. “I-I love you— fuck..” Taehyung’s brows furrowed in concentration, jaw slack as he moved his hands to each side of Jungkook’s head, still tightly engulfed by his husband’s radiating warmth. The elder hazily gazed down at Kook, putting a momentary pause to his hips’ rhythm before leaning down to press a sweet kiss onto his forehead, nose, cheek, chin— and lastly, lips. Taehyung knew he was supposed to be fucking him dumb, but he couldn’t help it. They rarely spent time alone, Tae felt guilty for not expressing his love more often.. Shit, he was being annoying. The movement of their lips turned less sweet, moving eagerly as it muffled their reactive moans when Taehyung began putting his hips to work once again, hitting Jungkook’s deepest places and rubbing against his prostate. Tae pulled out halfway only to ram into the younger, his movements slick from the sweat found all over their bodies. A low grunt followed after every sharp thrust; Taehyung felt like he’d lose his mind. He was deprived of sex, and now that he got it, he was far more sensitive. “‘M gonna cum soon baby boy, y-you close?”

Jungkook's haste nodding followed by short, clear chants of the word 'yes' served as his only reply as he was unable to form any coherent sentence. He was too far gone, too drunk on the pleasure he was experiencing with every loud snap of his husbands hips. The younger reached between their bodies with one hand to squeeze his aching length, too weak to ignore the almost painful need throbbing between his legs. He began to stroke himself in tandem with Taehyung's thrusts, doubling the speed to where his upcoming orgasm was building up, "I will--- slow down, just a bit..." Jungkook suddenly asks for the opposite, his free hand settled to cup Tae's cheek, the other still working his own cock, causing his insides to clench down harder on the elder, "I'm gonna cum so much, fuck... please fill me up."

Jungkook's warning only lasted for a mere minute before his whines grew higher, jerking himself off at a torturous pace until he finally reached his peak. A raspy moan-- almost a scream erupted from his throat at the intensity of it, letting go of his cock to let it pathetically gush hot ropes of his cum between their bodies, his insides spasming and gripping Taehyung like a vice grip, "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

Taehyung couldn’t handle his husband squeezing down on him with such force. It was as if Jungkook’s fleshy walls were pleading to be filled up with his cum, as if they’d missed squeezing every last drop out of his pulsating cock. Despite Jungkook reaching his climax, the elder still chased after his own. He was close, so close.. His hips snapped sloppily into Kook, losing the drive they once had. With every harsh slap of his balls against the younger’s ass, Taehyung felt himself gradually crumble down as he dug deeper into Jungkook’s clenched insides. “Gonna cum—“ Spurts of white shot into Kook, catching them both off guard, “shiiit, fuck yeah..” Taehyung threw his head back with a strained shout, tensing up as he disposed of his warm load into his husband. He pulled out to watch it dribble down out of his hole, only to push himself back in; not quite finished, “Fuuuck, it feels so good.. you feel so good..”

Once he was sure every last drop was snug deep inside of Jungkook, Tae withdrew for good. His slick tip came out with a ‘pop’, and a low whine slipped past his lips at the cool air that clashed against his wet length.

“That was amazing, I really needed that.” Taehyung leaned down to press a kiss onto Jungkook’s lips, unbothered by the pool of cum on the younger’s stomach, “I love you, you know that?”

© sombreboy 2020. Do not repost, edit or translate.

[delldarling]

the city is hoarding hearts | arroven

male dragon x gender/body neutral reader 9015 words lemon | mention of drinking alcohol, face riding, size difference, fairly submissive monster, penetrative sex, poetry, touch starved note: behold! my modern epic fantasy universe! this world first appeared back in August for my Patreon Story of the Month, and though I haven’t revisited Arroven again just yet, I did return to this universe for December’s Story of the Month as well. 👀

Magic, despite people's claim to the contrary, is beyond rare these days. No one really claims that it isn’t real, that it didn’t once run rampant with it’s existence. After all, it’s impossible to deny when people have things like the architecture of the North to reference. The towers built into their seaside cliffs, spiraling up like the serpents of old reaching for the sun? Without magic, without gravity spells, and an everlasting charm on those spells, thick enough to double as a coat of paint, the towers would have fallen into the sea by now, dashed against the dark stones jutting out from the deep green waters. Many people, though especially the elves, think that the towers will endure long after the cliffs have crumbled into the water. Floating relics, you’ve heard more than a few people murmur, wonder in their voices, wouldn’t that be something?

Even more common now, there are people the world over that claim they have a spark of magic left still, that they can feel the rhythms of the magical tide flooding back over the world.

She Wakes is written on street corners and thick posters, spray painted on the underside of the colossal Echo Bridge. No matter how often they have workers doing their best to clean the graffiti up, the giant letters are back in place a few days later.

Despite how much you’d like to believe them, as everyone dreams of the rumors, of magic returning, you’ve never put too much stock into the whispered words. Why would you? No matter how often you’ve spent watching wispy clouds streak by your window, no matter how often you’ve taken a moment to reflect on the thought, to nurse a seed of hope… Nothing has ever come of it.

It’s why you keep trying to ignore that heavy ache in the arch of your feet, or the way you keep noticing advertisements for Arroven.

History books and the elderly all say that this is how it starts when magic finally blooms in someone’s blood. There’s an itch. An ache. A constant irritant that starts in your extremities and wriggles into your veins, and then coincidences will start to pile up. Small things, like noticing whenever the clock strikes 11:11 on whatever clock you pass. Or maybe it’s having the luck to switch the radio station to your favorite song without fail, or—

“Stop it,” you mutter to yourself when you spot it. You breath puffs out into the chilly air, adding to the fog lingering in the streets. You kneel, brushing aside some of the fallen damask leaves, their velvety backs clinging to your touch even as you do your best to shake them off. Just barely hidden under their litter is a postcard. Without even glancing at it, you know what you’ll find on the back, but you’re drawn to pick it up anyway, turning it over. It depicts a sprawling city with green undertones, the word Arroven written in a sloping, beautiful script along the bottom of the image. The edges are creased, almost lovingly, and there’s a small puncture hole at the top left corner, as if someone had it pinned to a corkboard for no short amount of time. 

Until this moment, you haven’t picked up any of the advertisements for Arroven. The stories all say that you can ignore it, that the magic will go away and fade from you like an ebbing tide if you only will it hard enough, but… You don’t know that you really want it to leave. Those seeds have hope might not have fully sprouted, but their roots have run deep, snaking through your veins. You swallow past the dryness in your throat and turn the postcard over, wonder if you’re going to get an address, or if there are words of encouragement intended for the last owner.

The postcard is faintly yellowed at the edges, but it’s otherwise blank.

You wilt, disappointed, but you don’t throw it back down onto the stones. If you check the railway listings, you’re more than certain that you’ll find a one way trip to Arroven suddenly dirt cheap. The pathway that will lead you there is probably paved with strangely good fortune, more invisible hooks ready to find a secure hold in your heart. You might as well find out if there’s anything to these claims of magic. You have far too much hope shored up in your bones and pumping through your chest not to at least try. 

-

A month later, and you’re starting to believe that whatever magic that led you this far has all but fled. Of course, you’re more than content with where it’s left you, a word rattling around in the back of your brain and clamoring to spill from your lips: home. Arroven feels like home.

It’s not just the city though. It’s your place. It’s the stones that pave the streets and the people that fill them. It’s the smell of bakeries and the faint hint of exhaust. It’s the clean smell of paper and ink from the stationary shop you’d stumbled into on your first night in Arroven, and the proprietor’s barely-there smile. You’d made fast friends with her almost instantly, like it was fate.

Mora, despite her solemn stature, and the vast amount of spiraling tattoos disappearing under the neck of her cleanly pressed shirts, is beyond kind. She possesses a startling, sparkling wit that leaves a smile lingering on your lips whenever you think of her snappy little comments. She’d given you a job in her shop a few days after you’d first arrived, perking up as soon as you’d come back into her shop. She needed a cashier, so she could have more time to develop her own inks, and then a few days after that you literally stumbled onto a showing of a furnished apartment. It had fit all of your needs, and your shoes had sunk into the plush carpet of the bedroom, like a quiet voice in the place asking you to stay.

The ache in your feet had eased, that strange little irritant in the back of your mind fading with every passing day. You haven’t put too much thought into magic since then, as there hasn’t been a reason when you have a new job to keep you busy, and a city to explore on your days off. You love it here, the sea green patina on the copper statues, the swirling architecture that extends to every building in the city, no matter how large or small. Besides, you know if you go looking into magic again, at the message boards or if you go hunting down books, it’s likely that they’ll all say much the same thing: She Wakes, and her gift will blossom in you, but not Forever. She moves us like pawns, adjusting us Just So, no matter how small the slot She needs filled. 

You’ve read it all before, have heard debates shouted in the streets or argued about in the back corner of classrooms. Magic moves through people as it wills, and no amount of pleading will keep it in you unless you’re a mage, and even then, that takes years of study. If the magic that led you here only existed long enough for you to make your home? Then you’ll have to be satisfied with that.

And you are, until that ache in your feet starts up again.

Late one evening, as you’re locking the back door of Rumoura’s, it floods through you fast enough to steal your breath. There’s no voice, no heavy hand on your shoulder, just a fierce pain that wells, threatening to bring tears to your eyes, until you turn to the right. You blink, surprise at the sudden and complete lack of pain, and take a ragged breath as you pocket the key to the door. When you feel steady enough, when your lungs no longer ache, you turn to the right and start walking.It takes you about ten minutes to realize you’re headed towards the main park, the one with ancient ruins of a half finished serpent tower peppered throughout its boundaries. You’ve walked through once, one golden afternoon with Mora, and you’ve been meaning to come back sometime on your lunch break. The past few days have been busy though, with a flood of students coming back to Arroven, stocking up on both casual and serious supplies from Mora’s shop.

Besides, there’s always been time to explore at your leisure now that you’re living here. 

Two towering trees make a grand arch over the park entrance, and the slow swirl of damask leaves spiraling down from the branches make you laugh.

“Coincidence,” you murmur, a small smile curling your lips, and you walk into the park. The paths are well lit, even this late in the evening. This part of the city doesn’t boast about it’s lack of crime, but most people feel it. There always seems to be groups of people roaming: Elven tourists, hooking arms and laughing over cups of tea and coffee, Orcish artists and musicians, setting up on benches or street corners, busking for the simple sake of sharing their art with others. You wander through the park, expecting to simply take in the sights among the meandering attendees, but.. You haven’t seen anyone for the past few minutes. Your footsteps start to slow, wondering if you missed a sign somewhere and you have the nagging feeling that you just need to find someone.

Cautiously, you keep moving, the sudden bout of nervousness easing when you see someone up ahead. They’re sitting at the foot of one of the rather large blocks of toppled variscite, a dark hoodie hiding their face. Their shoulders are broad, and their clothes are a little more ragged than you see on people around here, but it gives off more of a well lived look than a dangerous one. They’re tapping the toes of their boots together, the tread of them worn smooth, and a low, masculine hum reaches your ears the closer you get. He stops as soon as you’re within speaking range though, crossing his legs and leaning his elbows on his knees. There’s a street lamp not too far behind him, and with the hood and the angle of the light, it casts most of his face in shadow. All you can spy is a pair of long, thorn-like ear gauges, curling out from the depths of his hood. They’re bigger around than a thimble and sharp looking from this far away. 

“Nice evening, hm?” You say in greeting, hoping that if he doesn’t want to speak, he’ll just bob his head and let you move along. You haven’t run into any trouble in Arroven yet, but even with that strange ache, you don’t know that you can see your good luck lasting forever.

“A lovely one,” he mumbles and he leans back, hands grabbing at his knees and squeezing like he’s the nervous one.

That thought makes you stop, your eyes focusing a bit more intensely on what you can see of his skin. At first glance, his knuckles are bruised and paint splattered, nails split and a little too long, skin rough in texture. You blink, realizing that his knuckles aren’t bruised, his skin just mirrors the strange patterns of the variscite he’s sitting on, ink black and sea green, and the rough texture to his skin has pointy, scalloped edges.

The noise he makes isn’t a sigh, not quite, but he turns his face away, as if he expects you to ignore him, or run, and his hood edges back, just a sliver. The arch of his nose is straight as an arrow, and his nostrils are thin things, slashing upwards. His face has so many angles that it’s hard to tear your gaze away. You wish you could see his eyes, but he has them closed, like he’s still bracing himself for a blow.

“Are you.. Are you alright?” You ask, because it seems like the thing to say, with how tense he is, with how he’s waiting.

His eyes flash open, reflective in the depths of his hood. His mouth curls into a frown when he turns to look at you again. His eyes are still the eerie glam of a reflected light. “You’re not frightened?”

“Are you?” You ask, ignoring the thundering of your own heart. You’ve seen Trolls before, and even a few half-elves or half-orcs of varying descent, with skin that just barely reminds you of his, but.. You’re willing to bet he isn’t any of those. 

“A bit?” He says, unsure, and the edge of a violet tongue flicks out to wet his lower lip. “It’s been a few centuries since any of you have made yourself so at home here that you stumbled across me.” He hunches his shoulders, looking away from you for the breadth of a second, before he can’t help himself. His eyes flick back to you, rove over you from head to toe, almost greedily. “You felt a call then, an itch?”

“An ache,” you correct, staring at him with wide eyes. Centuries? The long lived races don’t often mention the time they have over others. It’s rude at the best of times, and most of them are terrible sticklers for manners. 

“At home here, you said?” You ask, knowing that something about him seems terribly familiar. 

Your question makes him pause, brow lifting before he finally pushes himself to his feet. He unfolds, all long, heavy limbs, but doesn’t move from his spot on the variscite. “M-.. Arroven. You do think of the city as home?” He breathes in, hesitantly lifting his chin. “Not to be rude,” he says, a little awkwardly, “but you smell like Arroven.”

All at once, the old poem flickers back into your mind, the one about hearts and desires and winter. The oldest folktales of the first cities, those built around the serpent towers, all seemed to carry the poem with them. It was both a warning and a blessing to those that wished to stay. You’d have to hunt down the entirety of it, but the ending couplet?  

The city promises, you’ll be most adored So can you, will you, join the hoard?

You bite down fiercely on the desire to blurt out dragon, but he must sense it, might even see the aborted twist of your lips. 

“..you’ve figured it out, then?” He asks, and when his shoulders droop, you spy the barest edge of a wing, tucked in close to his back. “If being in my immediate vicinity is a problem, I quite understand, but please stay in the city. You-” He blows out a breath, large hands fussing about with his hoodie pocket. Everything about him reads awkward, almost shy. “You’re safe here, I promise.” He breathes in again, like he can’t resist, eyes falling closed when his violet tongue appears, there and gone before you can blink. “You belong,” he murmurs and tangles his fingers in the material of his hoodie, like he would reach out if he didn’t stop himself.

Inexplicably, you wonder if Mora knows about the city patron. If you should waltz into the shop tomorrow and announce: I’ve officially been welcomed to the hoard.  ...Sort of. Before you lose your nerve, before you can bite your tongue, you ask. “An official welcome involves more drinks though, doesn’t it?”

-Arroven, the dragon, the founder of the city, is sitting across the table from you, slouching in a barstool that has a difficult time encompassing his enormous body. Despite his height, and the way his hood shadows his face in a frankly ominous way, no one is paying him any attention. One of the bartender’s had slid a drink list your way as soon as you’d claimed the seats, but she hadn’t even glanced at Arroven. In fact, you think her eyes might have skipped right over his seat. It’s a little disconcerting, seeing as he’d claimed that Wink was one of the best bars around, but if they ignore him, if they can’t see him?

“What’ll it be?” A different bartender asks, a tall elf, with his hair plaited back in a complicated braid. He has pleasant features, though he looks a little flustered, a lock or two of dark hair escaping his braid. You think he might be on the newer end when he fumbles a bit with the card you slide his way, olive skin flushing when his fingers nearly touch yours.  

“Uh, the special,” you finally decide, expecting him to turn to Arroven so he can order as well. Your jaw drops when he whirls, not even bothering. “Ar- hey, wait!” 

The elf turns back, smiling vaguely, looking even more tense now that he can’t leave straight off, but he doesn’t seem to see Arroven when you gesture towards him. His gaze zips right through the neckline of Arroven's hoodie, straight on through to the next customer. 

Perturbed, you lean in close to Arroven, heart skipping a beat due to his proximity. He smells faintly of musty books, and stone, cooling in the early evening after baking in the sunshine of a warm day. "Didn’t you want something?” You force yourself to ask, unwilling to let the elf leave without at least checking with him first. He doesn’t have to get anything, but you’d hoped he would, if only so you can spend a while longer in his company. Maybe the flirtatious tone you’d struck had made him uncomfortable?

For a moment Arroven hunches further into his sweatshirt, and you think your fears might hold weight. You are a little close, and you still don’t know each other terribly well yet. You straighten, hoping you don’t look as embarrassed as you feel and Arroven heaves out a sigh. He finally tugs back his hood, though the elf behind the bar doesn’t even blink. “Just a.. a Beetle Wing," he mutters, large, sharp teeth catching the light. The elf nods, though his gaze is still on you when Arroven speaks, and turns away to go make the drinks. 

Without the darkness of night, without his hood shadowing his face, you see that his eyes aren’t permanently reflective. In the dim lights of the bar, they’re a lovely shade of blue-green that matches well with his skin. What you thought were ear gauges were actually his horns, thick and curving, and trailing after the clean arch of his jaw. His ears are heavy with plugs though, and they clink against his horns when he turns, noticing that you’re staring. The scent of hot stone grows stronger when you smile at him, and then he huffs, looking away and running a hand through his already tousled, short dark hair. You catch sight of scales on his scalp and then blink. It’s not hair on his head, it’s feathers. His eyebrows are much the same, in miniature. Fine, thin feathers, as ink dark as the scalloped edges of his scales. 

“So,” you tease, hoping your questions won’t come off as prying. “Can the rest of the people in here see you at all? You said that it’d been a while since anyone had felt at home enough here to stumble across you, but.. I don’t know exactly if that means Magicis is at work, or something else.”

Arroven breathes in, glancing up at the filigreed round sign hanging over the bar. There’s a single neon eye in the middle, opening and closing on loop under the word WINK. Even with the noise of people talking, and the music coming steadily from the small corner of a dance floor, you can still hear the faint buzz and click of the neon switching over. “Not many,” he finally confesses. “If the proprietor were here, she would see me, but she’s been here for a.. For a while.” She’s one of the long lived races then. Arroven turns, taking a quick look over the other patrons, tense, as if he expects one of them to approach. “The couple near the dance floor there,” he finally says, pointing out two women leaning into each other, stealing sips of each other’s drinks. “The orcish fellow on his phone. They can see me, though I doubt they’ll realize who I am. Just living here doesn’t make someone part of the hoard, though it’s always a step in the right direction.” For a second, he looks like he might let the subject drop, but then he cringes, glancing at your eyes before he looks away. “I don’t- I don’t steal from the people living here, whether they’re part of my hoard or not, even if they don’t realize I’m around. Even if they can’t see me.”

That’s reassuring, though you hadn’t planned on diving into that topic.

“What then,” you ask, leaning your chin in the palm of your hand, and your elbow on the bar, “makes someone part of your hoard?” 

Arroven’s rough looking scales don’t shine, but the neon light over the both of you shifts again from blue, to pink, and back. It was already hard for you to take your eyes off of him, knowing who he is, attracted to the nervous quirk of his lips, but now? The magic that you’ve only ever felt the after effects of, the strange aches and coincidences, it feels like more in this moment. More than a soft nudge in the correct direction. Arroven is sitting at your side, winking neon sign a spotlight over both your heads.

Hesitant, like he’s waiting for you to stop him, Arroven lifts his hand, reaching out, and taps once, softly, against your sternum. “It sounds esoteric, but the only explanation I have is that all of you feels like you should be here. From the way you smell, to the echoes of your voice or your footsteps along the pavement...” Arroven swallows, and then inhales, letting his hand fall away from your chest as his eyes close. He doesn’t pull his hand back completely though, just lets his hand hover over your thigh. “It’s always the desires of the heart that bring my hoard home,” he murmurs and starts to sway towards you.

There’s a soft clink on the bar, your drinks being set carefully in front of you and Arroven. When you look, the bartender still hasn’t noticed the city patron, the dragon, but the drink is still clearly set aside for him. Your card is placed very quickly next to your glass, the elf flashing you a much more jovial smile than earlier. 

“Your drink has been taken care of,” he explains, but doesn’t stay behind to point out who might have bought them. When you look, Arroven is sitting straight up in his seat, and his guilty expression is answer enough.

“I was supposed to be welcoming you to the city,” he murmurs, turning in his stool so he can take hold of his glass. The liquid inside is iridescent, shifting from what looks like violet, to a strange umber. You’re willing to bet that it’s more blue and green, but the neon light isn’t doing it too many favors. Arroven lifts his cup, patiently waiting for you to do the same and then quietly toasts your arrival. The clink of the glasses rings in your ears with the clarity of a bell, echoes lasting far longer than the noise itself.

“Goodness,” you say, coughing when you finish your swallow. Your drink is a little stronger than you thought it would be, heat already spiralling down into your chest and filling your belly. “So, uh, the city blessings seem to be true, I take it?” You don’t look at him as you speak, afraid he’ll cringe away from the mention of them.

“Blessings?” Arroven asks, and then you have to search up the poem. He sounds like he doesn't know, but they're supposed to be as old as the cities. Or near as.

“Sometimes they vary, from city to city. But most of the time they have almost the same structure. The same meaning,” you explain, pulling up the poem on your phone. “Hoarding hearts, keeping people safe in winter. The, uh-” You turn it his way, but he doesn’t take the phone from you, just reads the words out of the palm of your hand, brows raised by the time he gets to the end.

“‘Sinking talons into your thighs?’” Arroven’s slit pupils grow wide, nearly drowning his iris in darkness. He straightens, taking another hasty gulp of his drink. He laughs when he’s finished, nerves finally beginning to ease. “That’s how they’re translating it these days?” He asks, but you notice his eyes lingering on your hands, drifting down to your knees and the way you’re sitting. 

You pass a good portion of the evening, teetering back and forth with conversation about the city now, and how it was when Arroven had first settled. For all that he’s wearing modern clothes and walking on two feet, you can see him in a larger, more draconic figure, delving into the variscite mines and overseeing the people that had decided to settle under his watch.  

He’s just as enthralled with your stories though, hanging onto your every word, even though he’s still clearly a little anxious. He abandons his hunched and wary demeanor as soon as you start talking about the magic though. All the little aches and nudges and postcards that had led a clear path to his city. To him.

You insist on buying the next round when he makes to wave down the bartender, who is still completely oblivious to his presence, but Arroven stops you with a hand on your wrist. 

"Another time," he says, just loud enough for you to hear. "A welcome isn't a single round, is it?" He asks, a tentative smile revealing a small glimpse of those sharp teeth.

You could argue. You have the feeling that he would let it go if you pushed, but the smile sways you. It's the first time he's spoken without lowering his eyes mid sentence. You accept the drink, and try not to stare when his smile grows, shy and small and all the more endearing for it.

You both pretend not to notice each other grinning after that.

It’s just past 1 AM by the time the both of you leave the bar, only slightly unsteady after a few drinks and a few plates of bar food. Warmth floods you when Arroven’s hand finds your elbow, just barely keeping you from stumbling off the edge of the sidewalk and into the street. All it takes is a single stroke of his thumb over your arm for you to throw aside any worries you might have about flirting. 

He's reciprocated, in quiet ways, for the last hour or so. He’s leaned into you whenever you lowered your voice, had let his eyes linger on your hands and thighs after you brought up the poem.. The worst thing he can do is say no.

“Come to my place?” You blurt and Arroven stutters, hand spasming in his grip on your arm. For a heart wrenching moment, you think he might turn you down, but he finally bobs his head, gauges clicking against his horns with the motion. “...You said you’d been out of the loop with the people living here,” you start, mouth dry, wondering if he knows what you’re trying to ask, but still a little too sober to spell it out. “I’m asking, I’m not just asking you to come visit. I-” 

Arroven stops your worried speech with a slightly awkward smile. “I know what you’re getting at,” he finally says with a gentle huff of a laugh, hand sliding down your arm until he can twine his fingers about yours. His breath hitches, and for a moment you think he might stop, might pull away. “I- I would love to,” he says quietly, and squeezes until his fingernails gently prick the back of your hand.

Wordless with triumph, you flash another smile his way, heart pounding as you keep hold of his hand, ventral scales dry, but slick against your palm.

“The walk back to my place is a bit of a long one from here,” you confess, glancing at the handful of cabs loitering along the street. “Seeing as you got the drinks, I can—” You nearly trip over your own feet when Arroven tugs you back, keeping you from approaching any of the cabs. 

“I don’t.. Fit very well,” he says, apologetically. “If you would rather take one, I can, but if you aren’t opposed..” Arroven’s wings, still tucked in flat along his back, quirk and stretch, spreading wide enough that he nearly clips another leaving bar patron in the face. They don’t move, don’t see him, but they blink, as if a gust of wind just hit them, and shield their eyes until they’re well past you and Arroven.

His statement leaves you staring, jaw beginning to grow slack. “Are you saying you can fly us back to my place?” Your eyes trace his wings again, the fragile veins spider webbing across the membranes. It’s not that you thought they were ornamental, but it’s one thing to see them, and another to know you’ll get to witness their use first hand. 

Arroven’s shoulders start to hunch, but his eyes flick down to your hand, fingers still curled around his. He smiles instead. “Yes?” 

You glance at the cabs, and then back to Arroven’s tall figure and broad shoulders. As much as you’d like being pressed up against him, trapped in the backseat of an uncomfortable cab isn’t quite what you’d pictured, and he’s already nervous enough. That settles things. You nod, just the once and lift your chin to meet his eyes. “Flying it is then! We can’t have you getting stuck in one of those, can we?”

While Arroven walks you through how he’s going to pick you up, how he’s going to hold onto you, some of the people on the sidewalk start to watch you. You’re nodding readily at what they assume to be empty air. You spare a second to wonder if they’ll see you vanish, or if they’ll be able to see the equivalent of a magical wind carrying you away. That would cause quite a stir, wouldn't it? You forget to ask Arroven about it though when he holds out his arm, waiting patiently for you to step closer, fingers gentle in their continued grip on your hand. 

He’s still giving you the chance to turn away. 

You take a breath, thinking back to the nerves you’d felt, packing up a bag and deciding to visit somewhere based on coincidences and the hearsay of magic. You think of Mora, and the apartment that feels more like home to you than nearly anything else ever has. The way everything fits here, every piece of the city you've set foot in branded on your brain, clearer than any map. You step close, eagerly letting Arroven curl his arm around your back and then lift you up in a bridal carry. His forearms and biceps tense, bracing you as he prepares, and then the snap of his wings flaring open makes your heart jump before he leaps. His wings catch a sudden breeze swooping into the street, allowing it to lift the both of you well clear of the ground before he starts to flap. The slight dip in elevation as he finds his rhythm makes you clutch a little tighter, but Arroven doesn’t complain. In fact, when you glance at him, he seems to be holding back a smug little smile.  

It’s cold when he finally crests over the top of the nearest buildings. Between the chill, and the fast growing height between you and the ground, you have no issues absolutely clinging to Arroven’s neck. You don't feel like you're going to fall, but it's still safer than sitting meekly in his arms, isn't it? You try to twist your head about to see everything below you, but another rush of cold wind makes you squint. It takes a moment before you realize Arroven isn't moving though, he's simply keeping the both of you suspended in midair.

“Your address?” Arroven asks as soon as you start to frown, his voice rumbling against your ear.

“Ah.” You give it to him, laughing when you meet his still-shy gaze. “I suppose that’s a little important.”

While the walk would have left you both a little tired, the flight is a fairly short one. You have just enough time to relish all the places you’re pressed in close, to enjoy what little warmth you’ve managed to keep with the wind seeping through your clothes, when Arroven lands in front of your quiet building. There are no witnesses but the dim streetlights, the sound of his flapping wings muffled by the mist beginning to roll through the city. Arroven lowers you almost reluctantly, fingers slow to uncurl so you can step down onto the pavement. He takes a step back as soon as you do, like he needs the space between you to think.

“Still up for coming inside?” You ask, giving him the same chance he’d given you earlier. You jerk a thumb at the locked door, searching for your keys with your other hand. 

Arroven’s head jerks forward almost too fast, the dark feathers on his skull prickling upwards. His wings snap closed, tight against his back again as soon as you unlock your door. It’s only mildly nerve wracking, having him follow you up to your place, and you think it might be because of how nervous he’s acting. He flinches away from the wall when he barely brushes it, almost tripping over his own boots as he goes up the stairs. He’s been shy from the get-go, but this-

“Arroven,” you murmur, turning to look up at him, hand pausing on your door handle. “Is something wrong?”

He breathes out, turning his head so the plugs in his earlobes clack against his horns, blue-green eyes roving over the hall. “No,” he says slowly, forcing himself to stop hunching into his hoodie, to take his wringing hangs out of the front pocket. “I’ve just, it’s just that I keep-” He stays where he is, brow furrowing for all of five seconds before he’s huffing and stepping into your space. When Arroven leans down, his pupils are needle thin, that sunshine warm smell suffusing the air. He was summoning up courage, you realize, just in time to let your eyes fall closed as he cradles your jaw with both hands. They dwarf your human face, his fingertips easily reaching all the way to the back of your neck, but his touch may well be the softest thing you’ve ever known. His kiss is more the brush of his mouth over the shape of yours, a slip of a taste when his tongue follows the curve of your lower lip. He hums, softly, but when you kiss him back? When your tongue touches his and you try to stand on your tip-toes to deepen things, when you stumble a step closer—Arroven’s groan is gratifying. Achingly slowly, he draws his hands down the side of your neck, leaving you free to control the pace of the kiss. His thumbs trace your collarbone, slow, deep circles that make you wish you weren’t standing out here, fully clothed and too warm.

You pull away, licking your lips and glancing down the hall. There’s no one there, despite your pulse loud in your ears and your breath heaving, surely loud enough to wake even those in the very depths of sleep. Arroven’s breath hitches, and for a moment he sways, ready to chase you for another kiss. “Wait, wait,” you say softly, trying not to smile too wide when his eyes flicker open, dark pupils growing larger. He starts to straighten, embarrassment lifting his shoulders. “Maybe we should get in my house first?” You rush to say, not wanting to potentially scar one of your neighbors, but not wanting him to rush away either.

His mouth opens on reflex, and then closes, slipping into a gentle smile. “Yes,” he says, and then you have to swallow, watching his eyes slide down to your hands and then further down to your knees.  

You get your door open before he touches you again, but you’re only a few steps inside when Arroven reaches for you. He strokes the back of his knuckles down your forearm, fingertips only barely grazing your hips. “I’ve missed this,” he whispers, one of his fingers catching two of yours. “Touching,” he explains, the edge of his thumbnail stroking over your wrist and the base of your thumb and back. “Being close to, well…” He breathes in when you step into him, and grows as still as a statue when you balance against him, reaching around his middle to swing the front door shut. This close, Arroven still smells of sunshine, but there’s a sweeter, crisper undertone that makes you want to close your eyes to savor it, to breathe it in. He’s nearly vibrating with you pressed close though, hands hovering somewhere over the middle of your back, trying to keep himself still. He’s waiting for you to give him the go ahead, still caught up in his nerves... Or maybe just manners?

You grin, gently pushing yourself back a step before you smooth out your expression. “Part of your hoard?” You wonder aloud, but then you can’t keep yourself straight faced any longer, wanting him to recognize the words for the gentle teasing they are. You smile. “How about you touch me then?”

Arroven huffs, pleased, and then you quickly discover how needy he can be. He kisses you all the way down the hall, his wings nearly catching on picture frames, hands trembling in their stroking over your back. He keeps pausing at the top of your hips, like he wants to let his hands drift lower, but focuses on his mouth instead, mouth and teeth moving from your lips, to your jaw and down to your neck. You don’t think he’s willing to risk going further though, knowing that it would likely end up with both of you unbalanced and on the floor instead of the bed. 

“Distracted?” You ask, reaching blindly around your doorframe, searching for the lightswitch as Arroven’s tongue flickers over the pulse on the left side of your neck. Your own breathing stutters for a moment, heat building in your veins. “You keep-”

Arroven’s breath puffs over the damp patch he’s left on your skin as he lifts his head, violet tongue sliding along the sharp points of his teeth. “Hardly,” Arroven interrupts, and his wings tense when you hook your fingers into the neck of his hoodie, drawing him further into the room. Your fingers find the lightswitch, the soft ring of the bulb lighting strangely loud in the room. “You’re all I can see. All I can focus on. ..am I missing something? Cues?” He asks, voice gone lower when you give his hoodie a fierce tug. He follows, all too willingly, fingers flexing around your hips. 

“Hardly,” you say back, teasing as you back up towards the bed. You pull when you lean back, expecting him to let you fall, to fall with you, but his wings flare again. He catches himself on the blankets, hands to either side of your body, the blue-green of his eyes swallowed by his pupils as he takes the sight of you in. “Still good?” You ask after a moment, because he’s staring, because he hasn’t moved a muscle. 

“Tell me,” Arroven blurts, arms tensing as his fingers twist into the blankets. “Tell me what to do,” he pleads, gaze catching on every sliver of bared skin he can find. “I’m.. finding it a little difficult to think. All I want to do is make you happy, make you want to-” He stops, feathered brows drawing together as he considers his words.

You arch an eyebrow, your hands stilling just shy of his chest. The way he’d hesitated, his flighty touches? they all make a bit more sense now. He’d asked you to stay in the city, had mentioned your belonging here. If you wanted to leave, if you insisted on stopping, Arroven wouldn’t keep you. But he wants you to stay here.

  “Little to no thinking,” you muse, unable to keep from smiling as he hangs onto your every word. “Undress me,” you finally decide, and his nostrils flare before he sets to work. He’s terribly careful, every brush of his scaled knuckles whisper-soft and cool against your skin, but his breathing is ragged by the time he’s finished and your heart has sped in response. You’re tempted to make him undress himself too. In fact, he would probably do just as you asked, but you’re too impatient to get your hands back on him. “Hoodie off,” you declare, half amazed that he’s obeying your whims, “and lay down on the bed.”

Arroven listens immediately, tucking his wings in close before he’s pulling off the hoodie, careful around the curl of his horns and the arch of his wings. He isn’t wearing a shirt, but with his wings, you understand why. Most of those with wings don’t favor mass produced clothes or modern fashion. He’s on the bed before you can finish pushing yourself back up, jeans low on his hips, pale belly and chest all the brighter compared to the black and teal pattern of his scales. His legs spread reflexively when you stand, jeans growing taut when you reach for him. Your hands are steady, even if your pulse isn’t, but Arroven doesn’t seem to care. He looks blissed out from this much touch alone, jaw gone slack, eyelids heavy as you unbutton and unzip his jeans. He exhales when you pull at his jeans, eyes zeroed in on your face.

He’s thicker than he is long, and as pale as his abdomen, save for a violet tinge that makes you think of his tongue. Nestled as he is in the ‘v’ of his unzipped jeans, it’s all you can do to keep yourself from stroking him straight away, or even leaning down to-

“Maybe I can think,” Arroven says hoarsely. He lifts one of his hands, gentleman-like, offering it to you palm up. “Let me?” He asks, though you’re not entirely sure what he wants you to let him do.

Mannerly, you can’t help but think, lips twitching as you place your hand in his. The older races are, generally. It’s something to fall back on if they’re nervous or unsure. Not that most of them would ever admit to it.

“Are you thinking I should leave your boots on?” You get one knee on the bed before you pause, glancing back at his legs still hanging over the edge.

Arroven hums, but his grip on your fingers tightens for a second, not wanting to let go. “I’ll worry about those later,” he says, and then inhales sharply when you straddle his lap, cock pulsing as you settle against him. If he wants to let his jeans tangle around his boots, you’re not going to complain. It’s a bit of a thrill, knowing that he’s too impatient to fuss with them.

“Boots on, then. Now, what am I supposed to let you do?” You lean forward, drawing an aimless, spiraling pattern from his abdomen up to his ribcage. He’s much warmer now, with you astride his thighs and his wings trapped beneath him on the bed. It looks uncomfortable, but he hasn’t mentioned them once.

Hesitant, Arroven’s hold on you loosens, and then his hand drops to your thigh, eyebrows furrowing when he finally speaks. “Sit on my face?”

The brevity of it, the tone of uncertainty, makes your mouth twitch. “Jumping right in there, aren’t we? And here I thought you were kind of shy.”

“I am!” Arroven blurts and then covers his face with one hand, laughing quietly at himself. “I am,” he says, a bit more composed when he lets his hand fall away. “Though shyness has hardly ever been a factor in my favor. What is it humans say? Better to rip off the bandage?”

You crawl halfway up his body, smiling wider when he forgets to breathe. “Had to get the anxiety out of the way?” You brush a kiss over his chin, eyes catching on the curl of his horns. He’s moved so carefully that you’ve yet to feel the sharp points of them catching your skin, but if you sit on his face… You ignore Arroven’s disappointed sigh as you turn away to stroke the pad of your thumb over his right horn, wondering whether he has any feeling in them. They’re as ink dark as some of his scales and twisted in a lovely spiral that perfectly circles his pointed, gauged ears. Arroven isn’t reacting like he has sensation in them, though he reacts to every other little touch of you against his scales. “You’re going to have to help me balance,” you confess, sitting back against his middle. “Because even though they aren’t terribly sharp, I rather think I’ll be risking my thighs. Don’t you?”

Arroven stares, blinking, and then he looks horrified, which makes you wonder how long it’s been since he’s been close to a human, if ever. 

“I’m not against this,” you add, grinning, “just to be clear.”

For a moment, all he says in response is a strangled sounding “Ah,” before he blinks again, glancing up at the ceiling. “I can... I will help. I’ll be careful. More than careful.”

It takes a few moments, and some adjustment, before you’re finally able to settle over his face. Your heart starts to pound a little faster when Arroven opens his mouth, those dagger-like teeth flashing in the dim light. His hands are strong though, curling around your thigh and bracing your hip. He’s too tall for you to do more than help balance against his chest, though you can see that he’s still wonderfully hard, and his cock is starting to leak. You’d love nothing more than to take him in hand, to taste him, but then Arroven nips your inner thigh, and you stop paying attention to his cock and start focusing on sensation. Your fingers curl at the first hot swipe of his tongue, pressing a little hard into the ventral scales over his chest, and the next slow lick has your eyes falling closed. 

It’s not easy to stay steady, to keep your arms and legs from quivering the longer he licks and slurps. Arroven sucks small kisses over your thighs and the left cheek of your ass, his teeth only ever the barest pressure on your skin. His horns graze you, but he’s true to his word in keeping you balanced. The texture of them against your skin is just something more to feel, to enjoy as he tilts his head this way and that. Pleasure builds, faster by far than the magic that built in your veins, that left you aching with the need to come to the city. If that ache had been anything close to what you’re feeling now, warm, and slick, with the heady pressure of Arroven’s fingers on your skin, you would have picked up on the breadcrumb trail a lot sooner.

“You’re go- going to push me over the edge,” you warn with a gasp, legs starting to tremble. He moves you in response, starts to rock your hips so all he has to do is stick out his tongue, but your hands are shaking now too, cluing him into your urgency. Arroven shakes his head from side to side, a little wild, the plugs in his earlobes clattering against his horns with every shift. You bite down on your lower lip, orgasm rolling swiftly over you and nearly choke on the curse that wants to leave your mouth. He keeps you there, aching and weak, until you pat awkwardly at his chest, releasing you reluctantly with one last obscene noise of satisfaction. 

You sit next to him, still a little unsteady and grin down at his pleased, messy face. “Now, unless you have any other lovely thoughts to share - your turn?”  

His rough sounding “Please,” has your libido jumping back into overdrive, but it’s safety that has you slipping off the bed to dig out a bottle of lube from your things. He’s half pushed himself back up when you come back to the bed, resting on his elbows, fingers twisted gently into the blankets. His wings are partially stretched out now too, one of them reaching all the way to the end of your bed. 

“Are your wings alright?” You ask, wondering if you should throw away the idea of climbing back into his lap, lube already pooling in the palm of your hand.  

Arroven smiles again though, waving away your worry. “Tense,” he offers, as explanation. “I was more focused on you, but they’re good. I promise.” His cock bobs as you approach, and then he lays back down, irises vanishing into the ether of his pupils. 

“If you promise, I suppose I’ll let it go.” You close the lube, only a bit ungracefully, and toss it to the side, climbing back onto the bed and straddling his thighs.

  Your first wet squeeze of his cock has him whimpering, your hand barely fitting around him at his thinnest point. When you stroke, he bucks nearly unseating you until he claps his hands onto your thighs, muttering a hasty apology. Despite being tempted to laugh, you narrow your eyes, squeezing him just a little harder. “You don’t have to be still, but move a little slower for now, hm?”

“Of course,” he rushes to say, and then his jaw goes slack when you press him against you. “Oh,” he breathes, nails pricking your skin as you hold him in place. You rub yourself against his cock, up and back down, a slow undulation that makes you tense, still sensitive from your earlier orgasm. 

And then you straighten, pressing the head of his cock into you. The first slow stretch of him inside you echoes the steady ache of magic, has your breath rushing from your lungs in a gasp. “Fuck,” you breathe and then glance at Arroven’s face. His head is tilted back, mouth open to reveal all of those sharp teeth, and his eyes are closed tight. You think he might be keeping himself from looking at you, might be trying to stem the urge to buck again, to move at all. You tilt your hips and press yourself down though, wiggling, and then Arroven is cursing. You don’t recognize the language, but you understand the sentiment behind it, the pleading tone that softens the edges of the words. It’s hard to concentrate, to keep yourself from getting distracted when all you want to do is sink down every inch of him and then just lay on his chest, trying to catch your breath. “Too much?” You manage to ask, but all Arroven does is shake his head and then carefully ease his grip on your thighs, stroking down to your knees and back up. Your legs, among other things, are definitely going to ache after this.

You ride Arroven until he’s a shaking, breathless mess, until he can’t help but tense his thighs every time he bottoms out, and you can barely stay up. You reach up, fingers just barely brushing his chin to make him pay attention. “Fuck me,” you command and his wings stretch to either side with force. You nearly scream when he starts fucking into you with purpose, and as lovely as your neighbors have been, you have the feeling they’re going to complain at some point. Every thrust has you tightening up on reflex, still shaky from your earlier orgasm, and it’s all you can do to keep yourself upright. A few moments later and Arroven arches as he comes inside you, clutching tightly to you until he’s finished, breath deep and rasping. You don’t wait. Carefully you flop down next to him, smiling tiredly against the blankets. You’re not sure your legs will carry you for the next hour or so, but it’s hardly something to complain about. 

“Do you give all newcomers to the hoard such a.. Vigorous welcome?” You ask, laughing, your voice rough, not really expecting him to answer. Even though he’s clearly a little more comfortable, even though he’s been clinging to your skin and he looks wrecked by all the activity. Arroven nearly chokes.

“No,” he says immediately. “Moments like this,” he murmurs, reaching out for you, ventral scales on his palm smooth over the apple of your cheek, “moments like this are few and far between.” There’s a low rumble of noise from him when you roll close to brush another kiss over his lips, eyes fluttering closed. It’s all you can do not to laugh again, not to quote the poem at him or interrupt the soft moment. It still sits in the back of your mind though, sweet and lilting.

the city is hoarding hearts

it draws them in, with coin, with art

reflects their dreams on mirrored glass

sings siren songs to catch them fast

the lights?

they gleam, they glitter, bright

it steals a piece, with every sight

roots get worn

they split, they splinter

'but i'll keep you warm, in the depth of winter'

the city whispers, it cajoles, it cries

it'll sink it's talons into your thighs

it tears, it scrapes, it batters the unwary

but oh, the love it gifts, to those who tarry

the city promises, you'll be most adored

so can you, will you, join the hoard?

[themysteriousauthor18]

Android Alastor oneshot [Radiodust]

Saw this art of Angel making an Android Alastor. Thought it was a really cool idea and wanted to make a oneshot of it!

Artist of the AMAZING art above:

The darkness slowly faded away, and something not bright, but a little less dark took its place. 

It's vision focused, a blurry image focusing itself down to the finer details. A warmer color invaded his vision, one that his brain came to know as...pink. This 'pink' seemed to cover most of the interior of the room. 

And as a pair of eyes looked around, it took note of the tiles on the floor, the cooler temperature, and metallic walling. 

A basement.

It's mind concluded. 

A small room within a basement, an empty chair seat in front of them, and a desk noticeably messy to their left were what caught its attention. It was unable to turn its head very much, or even it's body. But from its angle, it could barely make out what appeared to be skeptics of a robot to the left wall, just over the desk.

I want to move.

It thought. Pulling against what felt to be restraints, but decided it was best not to. Lest they damage anything. 

It's prying came to a halt when it picked up the soft tapping of shoes against the flooring. In the dim lighting, they could see a shadow drawing closer to the entrance of the room archway. 

They only patiently waited, eyes focusing in on the outline of something coming to a pause in the doorway. 

No, someone. 

They corrected. 

A human, and one quite disheveled. Blonde hair hastily tied back into a pony-tail. A white labcoat lazily draped around their arms leaving the tank top exposed. Their legs dressed in pink and purple stockings for small black heeled boots to cover their feet. 

This human seemed rather distressed. For once they saw the pair of eyes looking at them, they suddenly dropped the mug in their hands causing the brownish liquid to pour out onto the floor. 

Hands flying up to cover their mouth and wide green eyes staring in shock, they took a step closer. "Oh my god.." They muttered. 

Its head tilted as it examined the human furthur, smiling. 

The blonde-haired human was practically jogging in their spot, grinning once they removed their hands. 

"Holy shit it worked! O-okay okay okay..." They calmed themselves quickly hopping back into their chair and looking up into those eyes. Their chair swayed with them as they moved, resting hands between their legs.

"System AI begin start-up." They said barely containing the excitement in their voice.

The being was confused as its vision was suddenly invaded by multiple warnings, notifications, and many other things of which they didn't understand. After a moment or two, they cleared away. Leaving it's vision clear once more. 

Looking back down at the human who was lightly bouncing in the chair, eyes sparkling with anticipation he waited for them to say something else. 

"Alright-do you know who I am?" They asked, expression falling a little as if nervous.

The being tilted their head, eyes tracing over the person's body. Focusing in on little details such as the adam's apple in their throat, hair color, skin color, voice, and many other details.

After a moment, the being spoke. "You are Anthony Giuliani. A 23-year-old male. You are 69% Italian and 40%-"

Before it could finish its sentence the man sprung off from his seat practically jumping for joy.

"Holy shit it works! YOU work!" 

"Your heart rate has increased by 20%." 

The blonde paused in his celebratory victory and looked to the being. A frown played on his lips as he scratched his head. 

"Your tawking like your a robot. Damn...I thought I made you deviant. Shit guess it's somethin' well have to work on." He shook his head moving over to the wall and pressing something.

With a faint beeping the being felt something distracted itself from its back. It stood a little more freely now, nothing, in particular, holding it in place anymore. 

Taking a step back, the Italian moved over to pick up the mug he'd originally dropped. Setting it on his desk he turned back to the being, coat lazily draping around his hips as he rested his hands there.

"Alright...first of all, call me Angel. Angel Dust. Got it?"

The being blinked a few times, a small red circle on its temple blinking with them. "Yes. Angel Dust." It repeated in a mono-toned voice. 

The man looked annoyed by the tone but said nothing. "Second, what do you want your name to be?" 

The being stared, confused. 

"That is not in my function." It simply stated.

Angel groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Okay look. YOU are an android. I made you, but you're to..." he paused trying to find the right words. "Robotic. I can't have a boyfriend whose all emotionless and robily." 

" 'Robily' is not a real word." 

The blonde scoffed. "Well, there's a start." He turned away, being mindful of the pool of coffee on the floor. "I'll be right back, take a look around. Just don't go too far." 

"Very well." It stated. 

Once the human left, the android quietly turned to look around the room, no longer restrained. 

Looking at it from this angle, the android realized it was not quite just a room but a lab more accurately put. Shelves of books and a few trophies lined some of the walls. While for the rest mainly consisted of boxes holding various android parts. 

A whiteboard lay on the main wall of the room, opposite to the wall the desk lay in front of. Equations and measurements were drawn all over the board. Some even rough illustrations of a model. 

It turned and walked over to the desk, having a clearer vision of the schematic hanging over the desk he could now see there was something written on it.

'Project AL4570R Aka the perfect boyfriend.'

It read.

  ...[.Decoding.]...

.....[.Result: Alastor ]....

...[Update: Name may be Alastor]...

...[Gender: Male?]...

It turned away, finding that its hands rested behind its back. A motion that felt comfortable for it. 

Stepping back over near the entrance, a standing mirror greeted it.

As it looked at the reflection, it's head tilted to the side at the image. Not a human greeted it, but rather a tall.....deer man? 

Simply put it was a deer man.

More intricately put, they looked to be human safe for the large pair of red eyes, and deer ears all to obviously attached to the tops of its head. Its hair was a crimson red, the tips being a dark black, it's skin some shade of brown almost greyish. 

With the monocle over one of its eyes, black gloves, and the black to red tailcoat, it both wore and made up its body, gave it a more refined appearance. The small bow tie on its neck seemed to somehow bring it all together. 

"I'm back." 

Its head turned immediately as a machine would to a sound as the human entered back. A mop in his hand. 

"Already like looking at yourself huh?" Angel joked, noticing the androids staring at the mirror. 

Not replying to the comment, the android turned as Angel mopped up the spilled coffee. 

"You had said 'boyfriend'. My knowledge tells me that is a term associated with men in a non-platonic relationship. So am I a male then." 

Pausing in the mopping, Angel leaned on its handle smiling to the android. "Well look at you gettin' all smart and shit. Let's see, do you know your name too?" 

The human continued to mop up the mess. 

"Alastor." The android stated.

Putting the mob aside, the mess is picked up, the human turned towards the android almost impressed. 

"Bingo. Now, I'm gonna need to run some tests. See how your internal hard drive is and make sure the pump is regulating that blue blood enough so you don't die on me. That be annoyin' to deal with." The blonde muttered to himself sidestepping the android.

Alastor watched curiously as the human shuffled through his papers on the desk. 

Those large red eyes scanned the room once again, landing on something they handed seen before. 

A small box sitting beside the desk some old song playing through it. With its interest peaked, Alastor moved over to the desk once more kneeling down because it was rather tall, and peered at the small box.

Angel paused and looked over to the android, smiling a little. "Do you like that?" 

The android poked at the box. "My scanners tell me this device is called a radio." 

An amused laugh came from the human as he sat down in his chair at the desk. Moved his hand over to switch the dial and by extension the channel. 

The android's ears moved back at the sudden noise. "Huh, that's fuckin' adorable," Angel muttered, fascinated. Turning his attention back to the radio, "yeah but I keep it in here sometimes just to listen to music." 

The android repeated the same motion, switching the dails. Its eyes growing in amazement. 

Angel laughed as the android continued to fiddle with it. 

"Maybe your more of a deviant than I thought." 

[alinastracker]

hello my dear bonnie, if you're still taking prompts, can i suggest #47 👀 ?

LOVE THIS PROMPT!!! here you go my love<3

prompt: you’re casually seeing my roommate and think they’re in the shower when you strip down to join me and we end up screaming and my roommate thinks it’s the funniest thing and tries to set us up on a date

yikes at this going from a quick lil ficlet to 6.7k oof

would it be okay if i came home to you (explicit) (ao3)

Alina steps into the shower, wondering how the hell she ended up rooming with Zoya to begin with.

Don't get her wrong, she loves Zoya. But her raven-haired friend can be difficult, and she was supposed to have buffer. Originally, it was going to be her, Zoya, and Genya living together, until Genya backed out last minute to move in with her boyfriend David instead.

"I'm so sorry, but it just makes sense," Genya said to them over lunch one afternoon. "Besides, if things go how I think they will, you two will be on the same path that I'm on soon enough."

Zoya scoffed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Alina had the same question, considering both of them were hopelessly single.

Genya just sipped her tea and said in a sing-song voice, "You'll see."

At first, living with Zoya was fine. They agreed easily on most apartment related things; splitting up chores, rules about not touching each other's food, a timely heads up before having friends or potential sexual partners over. Zoya could get nit picky about a few things, like the lecture she'd given her on the proper position of the toilet paper roll. It goes over, Starkov, understand? Under is for heathens and natural selection is coming for them. But otherwise, things had been fine.

Until Mal.

He was a part of the friend circle she had surrounded herself with since freshman year. But there was something about Mal that had drawn her to him in a way that was different from the rest of the group — different from anyone else she had ever met. He was like a drug, a magnet, the missing link that had her saying, where have you been my whole life, when you're meant to be here beside me? So quickly he had become her closet friend, and as much as their group liked to tease them, they both denied feeling anything beyond fierce friendship.

But Alina was such a liar.

Which makes it her own fault, really, for ending up in this situation. Zoya could, quite frankly, be a bitch — but she wouldn't have gone after Mal if Alina had just owned up to her feelings.

Though she really could have told her about it sooner.

Alina had been studying in the living room one night when a knock at the door startled her. Zoya hadn't mentioned having company, and neither of them had ordered food. Hesitantly, she rose and stood on her tiptoes to peek through the peephole. Then her face lit up, and she swung the door open. "Mal!"

Saints, he looked good. He appeared freshly showered, dressed in a silky green shirt and dark jeans. He had actually put effort into his hair for once, and he had a small gold hoop earring in his left ear.

"Hey, Lina," he said, something a little off with the smile he gave her. As he passed by to come inside, she could smell expensive cologne.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, butterflies in her stomach. Her head was already filling with wild fantasies. He wanted to surprise her, so he showed up without notice. He put effort into how he looked, because he wanted to impress her. He was going to reveal his true feelings for her, and she would revel in the fact that he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

Instead, Zoya entered the room and said, "He's here for me."

Mal had the decency to flush and offer a sheepish shrug. "I'm gonna grab some water," he said, and scuttled off to the kitchen. Of course, Mal had been here plenty of times before. He knew where everything was.

Alina had barely heard him though, Zoya's words repeating on a loop in her head. He's here for me. She knew what this meant, even as her mind tried to deny it. The room was spinning and she couldn't quite steady herself, like something had broken inside of her.

She swallowed, and as calmly as possible, said, "What happened to the heads up rule?"

Zoya arched a brow. "I texted you two hours ago."

Alina frowned and pulled out her phone. Sure enough, there was a text from Zoya. Got a guy coming over in a couple hours. She must have missed it, lost in her studies. But still, something in the text ignited anger in her chest.

"You could have said the guy was Mal."

Zoya shrugged, so frustratingly nonchalant. "What does it matter?"

It matters because I am so hopelessly in love with him, and you're supposed to be my friend, and now I have to blast music so I don't hear the sounds of you two fucking, she thought.

"He's my best friend," she said. "It's just a little weird, I guess."

"Don't worry, Starkov," Zoya said, turning toward the kitchen, probably to grab Mal so they could get the night started. "It won't affect anything between you two."

Alina waited until the two of them were tucked away in Zoya's room. Then she pulled on her old running shoes and slipped out — there was just no way she could be here, knowing what was happening in the room across from her own.

She ran with no destination in mind, pumping her little legs as hard as they could go, music pounding from her headphones. When she became too tired to go further, she checked her surroundings and sighed. Of course, her feet took her to one of her favorite places in the city.

It's not anything, really. A quiet street with an old abandoned building at the end of it. But on the building's brick wall is one of her favorite pieces of art. A mural of the sun, complex in its simplicity, using colors she had never seen used to express the sun before, yet perfectly capturing the feeling of a warm sunny day.

Alina leaned against the wall, slid down until she was sitting on the old, cracked sidewalk. Only then did she realize that she was crying. Turning off her music, she called Genya, and told her everything.

"You have to talk to Zoya," Genya said.

"No!" she said quickly. "I don't want her to feel bad. It's not her fault. And if Mal likes her — well, it's not like he's shown any interest in me. I'm not going to get in their way."

"Alina," Genya sighed.

"It's fine," she promised. "I just—" A sob escaped her throat, the pain overshadowing any coherent thought. It was not fine.

"Send me your location," Genya said, and Alina did.

She spent the night at Genya and David's that night, David promising he was more than okay with taking the couch so her and Genya could have the bed. Which was needed, because Alina had a lot more crying to do.

"Just don't tell Zoya," she said.

"Alina, I don't know."

"Promise, Genya. Please."

Finally, Genya sighed. "All right."

That was four months ago. Zoya had told her it wouldn't affect her close bond with Mal, but it had. Alina never invites Mal over anymore, too afraid that he'll come to watch a movie, sit on the couch beside her — much closer than most friends sit. They would point out everything terrible about it, because they loved to watch bad films together as they stuffed their faces with popcorn. Then the movie would end and Mal would say goodnight, but instead of leaving, he'd go to Zoya's room, and the popcorn they ate would sour in her stomach.

There were so many little changes, too. Like when they hung out as a group, and suddenly Alina was questioning every move she made around him. Was it still okay to playfully ruffle his hair, to sit close enough that their shoulders pressed together, to look at him like he personally hung the sun and the moon in the sky, all while Zoya was there to see? Was it wrong to look at his lips and fantasize about how they would feel against her own, pressed to her collarbone, sucking her most sensitive spots? Zoya and Mal were a casual thing, they had both said so. But still, the natural intimacy her friendship with Mal had built for the past two years suddenly felt wrong, and she hated it.

Needless to say, Alina has been looking into new rooming possibilities for next year. She can't do this anymore. Every time Mal comes over, she waits for them to lock themselves away in Zoya's room, and then she leaves. She runs to her sun, sometimes just sitting and letting her sad song playlist make her sadder, sometimes bringing her sketchbook to at least make art out of the pain.

But tonight she has a very rare opportunity — the apartment to herself. Only for a couple hours, but still. She has spent most of the time so far blaring music, and her neighbors probably hate her, but damn it, they can deal with it for a night.

She lets the music play as she takes a much needed shower. Sure, she could have gone the bath route, but she doesn't want to waste all her time getting clean. Alina has decided her hours alone should end with a much needed date with her vibrator and an Owen Gray video that she's going to watch without headphones.

Olivia Rodrigo's Brutal is pounding from her speaker, and though Alina's twenty-one, not seventeen, the lyrics hit all the same. She's so into the music, thinking about her life for the past four months, thinking about moving as soon as she possibly can, thinking yeah, it really is fucking brutal out here, that she does not notice the telltale signs of someone entering her apartment, and even more worrisome, someone entering the bathroom. Not until it's too late.

"Thought you were too cool for Olivia Rodrigo," a very male voice says, and then the shower curtain opens.

Screams fill the air from both of them. Alina's already holding her conditioner bottle, and on instinct, hurls it at the man's chest while her other hand reaches for her razor.

"Oi!"

Only then does her mind register that it's not a strange man come to sexually assault her, it's Mal. Her best friend. Her roommate's casual lover slash fuck buddy slash whatever. It's Mal, completely naked before her. She gets a quick glimpse of his cock, half-hard, before he curses and turns around.

It doesn't help that his backside is just as nice to look at. He's well toned, muscles flexing as he reaches to grab the clothes he must have just discarded. He bends, giving her the most sinful view of his ass, and Saints, her mind goes wild. She pictures him turning back around and pushing her against the wall, slamming inside of her. As he fucks her, she would reach around and grab that delicious ass of his, dig her fingers into the plump skin, and leave little half-moon indents.

Mal is apologizing over and over again — "I thought you were Zoya!" — as he gathers up his clothes and makes a beeline for the door. Alina finally snaps out of her filthy fantasy and slides the shower curtain closed with a shaky hand. She leans back against the tiled wall, breathing hard. Her heart is pounding like never before.

The song is winding down. Olivia is crooning, God I don't even know where to start.

Neither does Alina.

~

By the time she musters the courage to finish her shower and leave the bathroom, her robe clutched tightly around her, there’s no sign of Mal in the apartment. Zoya isn’t back yet, either.

With a sigh of relief, she flops onto her bed. Her previous plans were out the window now. Taking a breath, she goes over the facts in her head. 

One: Mal has now seen her completely naked. 

Two: she has now seen Mal completely naked. 

It was the wrong thing to think about, because now she’s picturing the smooth expanse of his skin, his perfectly tight ass, and the quick glimpse she had gotten of his—

Heat pools between her thighs. She’s positively aching, when she should be feeling horrified. She should absolutely not be reaching for her vibrator as she lets the images of Mal’s naked body settle in her mind. It’s wrong, because Mal is, at least somewhat, Zoya’s, and Zoya is her friend. Besides, it was Zoya that he had come looking for, Zoya that he wanted to fuck against the shower wall. 

But Alina does grab her vibrator, and as it buzzes her to multiple releases, she imagines Mal shoving her against the wall, pressing kisses to her neck, fucking her like it’s his sole reason for existing. Fucking her like she’s his, and he’s hers.

~

She doesn’t see Zoya until the next morning, passing out sometime after orgasm number three. Saints, if the memory of Mal’s bare skin had been enough to keep her going for three rounds, she wasn’t sure she could even handle actually being with him. 

When she walks into the kitchen, Zoya is sitting at their tiny excuse for a table. “Good morning,” Alina says as naturally as possible. 

Zoya only says, “Sit down, Starkov.”

It’s unnerving, how quickly can could take over her entire body. Saying nothing, still going for casual, Alina sits across from her. “What’s up?”

“That’s my question, actually.” Zoya arches a brow. “What happened with you and Mal last night?”

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

“Oh, I think you do. I know he stopped by before I got home. When I asked why he left, he got all weird and said something came up with Dubrov. But I know that’s a lie, because Dubrov was happily posting drunken stories last night. So obviously something happened when he was over.” Zoya sits back in her chair and stares her down, making her insides twist. “And since I don’t live with him, the only person I have to grill is you. So get talking.”

Alina sighs, knowing she isn’t strong enough to deny Zoya when she’s like this, and babbles out the story. Really, it wasn’t her fault. Mal was the one that walked in on her. It was just incredibly embarrassing for both of them. 

When she finishes, Zoya lets the information sink in, and then she laughs, harder than Alina has ever seen her laugh.

“Well I’m so glad this is funny to you,” she huffs, arms crossed over her chest.

“It is! I can only imagine your faces, shit.” Zoya wipes at her eyes. “Too bad you already know each other, that would make for one hell of a meet cute.” She pauses and says, “Well, it still could be your origin.”

Alina frowns. “Our origin?”

“You know, if you guys dated.”

She momentarily loses her breath. “What? No, you guys are a thing.”

Zoya rolls her eyes. “We’re fucking, Alina, that’s it. And actually, I was planning on cutting it off after last night.” She stands and pours herself what is at least her second up of coffee. “There’s someone else I’m interested in.”

“Someone else? Who?” Zoya says nothing. Alina pops up as it comes to her. “Oh! It’s that rich blond guy from the bar, isn’t it? The one that transferred here this semester. Nikolai or something, right?”

The tiniest blush spreads on Zoya’s face, and Alina squeals. “It is him! Saints, he’s attractive.”

“Yes, he is,” Zoya snaps. “And not bad for conversation, either.”

“Conversation?” She grins. “Why, Miss Nazyalensky, do you actually have feelings for this guy?”

Zoya scowls. “Shut it, Starkov.”

“Oh, you totally have feelings for him!”

“Keep it up and you will pay for this. I’m devising a plan as we speak.”

Alina just laughs. “Okay, Mrs. Whatever Nikolai’s Last Name Is.”

Under her breath, Zoya mutters, “Lantsov,” and stalks off with her coffee as Alina laughs harder. 

~

Zoya, apparently, hadn’t been kidding when she said she was devising a plan. 

When the weekend rolls around once again and Zoya texts the group chat they have with Genya about getting lunch, Alina jumps at the idea. She missed Genya, and it had been a hell of a week between juggling exams and thinking about her encounter with Mal. They haven’t spoken at all, and she had used her classes as an excuse to get out of any hang outs where he might show up. 

Zoya’s words from the morning after had been on her mind a lot, too. It still could be your origin. Could it? Was Mal even interested in her — and would he even want to try, after he’d had something with Zoya, or would it just be inevitably awkward?

Alina approaches the restaurant and sucks in a breath. She’s decided to finally tell Zoya about how she’s had feelings for Mal all this time, and maybe with her and Genya, the three of them can come up with what the hell Alina should do next. 

Zoya had texted five minutes ago saying she grabbed them a table in the restaurant’s outdoor patio, so she makes her way there. Only it’s not Zoya or even Genya waiting for her.

It’s Mal. 

He looks just as surprised to see her as she is to see him, and for a moment, she believes it really is some crazy coincidence. 

“Alina,” he says, standing. Neither of them can quite meet the other’s eye. “What are you doing here?”

Her hand is doing some nervous twitchy thing at her side, so she shoves it into the pocket of her dress. “I’m supposed to be meeting Zoya and Genya.”

Mal curses under his breath. “I’m supposed to be meeting Zoya, too.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Shaking her head and feeling incredibly stupid, Alina takes out her phone and fires off a text to Zoya, WHAT THE HELL????

The next message she receives comes from Zoya — only not in the text chat between the two of them, but rather a newly created group chat with the two of them and Mal. 

consider this the official end to our fuck-mance, oretsev. yalls little bathroom flash show was the perfect opportunity for a new beginning, because yes, i see the doe eyes you give alina when she’s not looking. you too, starkov. i’m sorry for getting in the way for so long. have a good date, no throwing bottles at each other xoxo

They finish reading at the same time, looking up from their phones, eyes meeting before flickering away again. 

Mal sighs. “I think I hate her.”

“I think I hate her, too.”

He scratches the back of his neck. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

Alina bites her lip. Because he doesn’t want to do this, she thinks. “Oh, well, I guess—”

Mal cuts her off. “But it might be a nice chance for us to talk.” Her head snaps up, and this time when their eyes meet, neither of them look away. He smiles shyly. “I missed you this week, Lina.”

Her smile matches his. “I missed you, too.” 

They sit, and after the waiter takes their order for drinks and an appetizer for them to share — a sample platter, both of them too indecisive for any singular thing — Mal starts to stutter out an apology. Alina stops him with a hand on his arm. He looks down at where her fingers brush against bare skin, and she wonders if he’s thinking about all the skin they’ve bared to each other now. She certainly is.

“You don’t need to apologize, Mal,” she promises. “It was an accident.”

He shakes his head. “Still, I can’t imagine how terrifying that was for you.”

“Well, it was,” she admits, then adds, “at first.”

“At first?”

She shrugs, but says nothing, thankful for their drinks arriving to save her from answering. Because the truth was she had been scared for maybe three seconds. Once she had realized it was Mal, she’d only felt desire.

With their awkward shower encounter out of the way, they fall into fairly easy conversation, complaining about exams and projects, annoying classmates and neighbors. Soon enough, they’re back to being themselves. Alina pulls out her phone to show Mal all the memes and TikToks she had wanted to send him this week, and he does the same. Hours fly by without their notice, and now the dinner crowd is filing in. 

“Oi, I think our waiter is silently praying for us to leave.”

She laughs, pulling out her wallet. “Definitely.”

Mal waves her off. “Let me get it,” he says, taking his own wallet out. “I mean, since this is apparently a date and all.”

Alina hesitates, a little flutter in her chest even though he’d said it teasingly. “Okay, fine. But I’ll get the tip.”

“Deal.”

When everything is paid for, they stand. Going home is the last thing she wants right now, and not just because Zoya will be there. 

Mal looks ready to pull her into one of their standard hugs, but pauses. “Do you want to come over? We can find something shitty to watch. Mikhael and Dubrov will be around, but I just really don’t want to see Zoya right now.”

Alina smiles, the flutter in her chest returning with vigor. “Yeah, okay.”

~

At Mal’s flat, they settle onto the sofa together, close enough that their shoulders brush. Mikhael and Dubrov tease them about looking like lovebirds, but otherwise surprisingly leave them be. She doesn’t mind their company — but admittedly, she was glad they stayed to their respective rooms tonight. Mal puts on an indie horror flick that’s so bad it’s good, and they laugh and joke with each other throughout, per usual. 

About halfway through the film, they share a knowingly look — their that foreshadowing is so obvious, RIP to that character in twenty minutes look — and sport matching grins. But when the moment passes, neither of them looks away. 

“Alina,” Mal says softly, and her breath hitches. Has he ever said her name with such longing before?

His eyes flicker down — to her lips. She thinks of Zoya’s text then, basically calling both of them out for having feelings for each other. And while neither of them had confirmed it, they hadn’t denied it either.

Her heart is beating so fast. She gives him the tiniest nod.

Mal understands, he always does, and then he’s leaning in. Their noses brush before their lips do, and it could be silly or awkward, but instead it’s a different kind of intimacy she hadn’t known she wanted.

“Alina,” he breathes once more, and then he kisses her, so softly at first, it’s barely anything. Her stomach is doing cartwheels regardless. She takes initiative, kissing him back. Still soft, still careful, afraid that whatever this is between them is something fragile, something that needs delicacy. In some ways, it is. Her closest friendship, blossoming into something more. 

Mal lets out the softest moan, and it snaps something between them. 

He pulls her closer, his hand on the back of her neck, and now Alina is the one moaning, fervor replacing the softness, the delicacy. It’s the kind of kiss she’s been fantasizing about, made even better from how obvious it is that they’ve both wanted this for a long time. A desperate kiss bursting with desire. 

Alina shifts closer until she’s practically straddling his lap. Mal brings one hand to rest on her lower back, the other curling into her hair. His lips move to her neck, trailing down until he reaches her collarbone, where he nips and sucks, undoubtedly leaving a mark. 

“Mal,” she sighs, her head tipped back from the feeling as her hips roll against his. He curses against her skin. Her hands move to the hem of his shirt, ready to pull it off. 

All of a sudden, Mal pulls away, stopping her hands with his own. “Alina, don’t.”

She blinks her eyes open. “Do you want to move to your room?”

Mal bites his lip and shakes his head.

Alina frowns, any warmth in her chest turning cold. She quickly returns to her own side of the couch. “I don’t understand. I thought you wanted this.” Wanted me, she thinks but doesn’t say. Because he certainly had no issues with Zoya.

“I do!” he says quickly, taking her hand again and trying to pull her back. She holds her ground, pulls her hand out of his. “I do want this, Alina. Saints, I do. But this is technically our first date, right? I don’t want to do first date sex, not with you.”

Alina rolls her eyes, looking down and tugging at a loose thread on her dress. “Is this where you say something you think sounds respectful but really just puts down all the girls you have had first date sex with?”

“Alina, please look at me.”

Grudgingly, she does. 

“You’re different because you’re my best friend, and because I’ve been hooking up with our mutual friend.” She flinches, but Mal continues. “I don’t want you to think we have to have sex because of that. What I had with Zoya — it was good, and I care about Zoya, but it didn’t go beyond the physical. That’s all we wanted from each other. But that’s not all I want with you.”

Mal closes his eyes. Alina’s unconsciously holding her breath. He exhales and opens his eyes again, holding her gaze. “I want everything with you, Alina. I want your highs and your lows. I want to take you against the wall as much as I want to hold your hand.” He does so now, both of his hands around one of hers, and this time she doesn’t pull away. “And if you didn’t want to be physical? I’d still want you. I don’t want you to think there’s anything we have to do. That’s why I want to wait — even if I also want to take you to my room and pin you against my bed, too.”

“Oh,” she says, barely audible. Alina shakes her head, a little speechless. “I don’t know what to say.”

The corner of his mouth tugs up. “Was that too rom-com confessional?”

The tension breaks. She laughs and climbs onto his lap again, wrapping her arms around his neck. ���You’re such a dork, but you’re the perfect dork. So we’ll wait.” She pauses and looks up at him with innocent eyes. “But will you kiss me again?”

Mal grins, pushes her down against the couch, and does just that. 

~

When she gets home, Zoya is waiting in the living room, reading a smutty romance book Genya had recommended. “Hey, how’d it go?” she asks, too casually to actually be casual. 

Alina ignores her and walks straight to her room. She’s decided to let Zoya sweat it out a bit for the weekend after her little stunt, even if it was successful. 

Though really, she didn’t think it would bother Zoya that much. Hard as steel Zoya, who never let anything get to her. But on Sunday, she bursts into Alina’s room, interrupting her studying. 

“Okay, I know you hate me now or whatever, but at least let me tell you that I’m sorry. I didn’t know how much you liked him, Alina. Not until Genya told me.”

Alina closes her book, frowning. “Genya told you?”

Zoya nods and sits at the end of her bed. “Recently, when I told her about Nikolai and that I was thinking about cutting things off with Mal. Don’t be mad at her, just be mad at me.” 

“Well—” she starts, but Zoya cuts her off. 

“And honestly? The worst part is, part of me did know. I saw the looks you gave each other, but I brushed them off because I was selfish and enjoying myself. I was a really, really shit friend to you, and I’m so sorry, Alina. You don’t have to forgive me, but I just—

Zoya stops mid-sentence, cut off by the laughter bubbling out of Alina. 

“Saints, I never thought I’d see the day that Zoya Nazyalensky grovels.” She shoots her a grin. “I accept your apology. And as much as I want to hate you for your meddling stunt, it worked, because we definitely spent the night making out. I just did the whole silent treatment to make you suffer a little.”

A moment passes — Zoya is completely still, too still — and then she grabs one of Alina’s pillows and smacks her with it. “You little rat!”

Alina only laughs harder, fighting off Zoya’s pillow attack with her hands. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say sorry non-sarcastically! You did so well, Nazyalensky!”

“And you’ll never hear it again! You’ve lost apology privileges! 

Eventually, Alina moves into the living room to study, and Zoya joins her. When their brains need a break, Alina tells her about her date with Mal, and Zoya tells her about her own with Nikolai. If this is their new normal, Alina finds that she really likes it. 

~

The next week is outstandingly better than the previous. She’s back to talking to Mal each day, even more than before. Halfway through the week, he sends her a song with the message, This song made me think of you the first time I heard it, still does every time. It has her heart beating extra fast as she listens on her walk to class, not only because it’s incredibly sweet, but because Mal has played this song for her before, months and months ago, which means he’s felt this way the whole time. 

Early Saturday evening, Zoya announces that she’s spending the night at Nikolai’s. “He has his own apartment, so it just makes sense. I’ll be home in the morning, probably.”

Thank the Saints for rich boys. 

She texts Mal, and Zoya’s barely gone for ten minutes before he’s there. They make dinner together — well, Alina sits on the counter while Mal does the actual cooking, but he spends any down time kissing her, so she likes to think she was the moral support. They eat on the couch, watching their favorite trashy reality television, and play a few rounds of Mario Kart afterwards. Really, it’s just like how things were when they were simply best friends, except now Alina drapes her body over his as they watch their show, Mal’s thumb moving in slow circles on her ankle, and instead of talking or playing on their phones during ad breaks, they pick up where they left off in the kitchen, their lips pressed together in a blissful ease. 

They’re on their fifth game of Mario Kart, Alina in the lead, as she has been every round. She’s bragging about how she’s going to beat him again when suddenly her vision is blocked as Mal presses his lips to hers. 

Her surprise doesn’t stop her from dropping her controller and kissing back. She’s just getting into the kiss when Mal pulls away as quickly as he had started the kiss. He stands, and only then does she see he never dropped his controller. Picking up right where he left off, he steers Luigi towards the finish line. (“Who the hell picks Luigi?” Alina had asked him once. To which Mal responded, “It’s not fair people only care about his brother when he probably works just as hard at their plumbing business. It’s just like people only knowing Adam Levine and ignoring the rest of Maroon 5—” which led to a very cute rant that Alina spent less time listening to and more time staring at his lips while he was distracted.)

Alina fumbles for her controller, but it’s too late. Mal hasn’t come in first — some of the computers still beat him. But he’s beat her, which by the smirk on his face, was his only goal.

“You’re such a cheater!”

“It’s not cheating, it’s strategy.”

“I suppose you need your strategy, since you don’t have any skills.”

Mal raises a brow, a devious look in his eyes. “Is that so? Perhaps I should show you my skills, then.” He moves in front of her and kneels on the couch, a leg on either side of her body, essentially pinning her there, and kisses her again. 

Immediately, she can feel the difference from the strategy kiss and even the ones from earlier that night. He’s kissing with purpose, cradling her face with one hand, the other on her waist, and Alina is melting against him. She is putty in Mal’s hands, his to mold how he pleases. 

He’s holding himself so that his weight isn’t pressing down on her, but that’s exactly what she wants. Her hips buck up against his, and Mal pulls back to moan, “Fuck, Alina,” so she does it again.

“Please tell me we can have second date sex.”

Mal chuckles. “Are we even going to bother with the dating process?”

“I don’t know, are we?”

“I don’t know. Do I need to ask you to be my girlfriend?”

Alina grins. “I wouldn’t mind hearing it.

“All right. Alina, my beauty, my beloved, will you bless me with the honor of calling you my girlfriend?”

Her grin widens, and giddy butterflies dance inside her chest. No, not butterflies — fireflies. She can feel their warmth and wouldn’t be surprised if she was glowing from their light. “Oh, I suppose.”

Mal laughs. “I can’t stand you,” he says, and kisses her again.

Alina returns the kiss for a moment before murmuring against his lips, “You don’t have to stand me, but now that you’re my boyfriend, can you fuck me?”

He practically growls as he says, “Saints, yes,” standing and lifting her with him. Mal brings them to her room, kissing her the whole way. He unceremoniously shoves her school books off of her bed, laying her down and crawling over her. “You don’t know how often I’ve imagined this,” he murmurs, lips on her throat. 

“Tell me,” she gasps.

“Every time I came over, Alina. Every time.”

A shiver runs down her spine. “Even when you were here to—”

“Especially then.”

She has no idea what to do with this information. Her head is empty of thought save for the screaming need for more of him, so she pulls his shirt over his head. This time, Mal doesn’t stop her. Her hands roam over all the places she’s been dying to touch; down his back, tracing along his spine, up over his stomach, fingers running along the muscles of his chest, brushing over a few scars he’s accumulated through the years.

“You’re so perfect,” she whispers. Smooth in some places, rougher in others, but so incredibly warm everywhere.

Mal tips her chin up, kisses her lips once, hard, and then another to her jaw, down her neck, her collarbone. Then he’s the one tossing her shirt aside, his lips continuing their decent. He’s pressing soft words into her skin as he kisses her — beauty, beloved, cherished, my heart —murmuring his love for her even as he brings her nipple between his teeth.

“Shit, Mal,” Alina breathes. Her hips keep bucking, far beyond her control. He chuckles, murmurs something along the lines of no patience, and quickens his pace. Soon enough, he’s got her undressed completely — which isn’t too unnerving after the shower incident. Any lingering nerves flee once his head is between her thighs. She’s suddenly very thankful Zoya isn’t home, because even though it’s never been a problem during sex before, she absolutely cannot control the noises she’s making — and she’s loud.

Mal returns to her with glistening lips. She kisses him and tastes herself, a thrill better than any rollercoaster. Her hands move to the waistband of his pants, giving a half-hearted tug. “Off.”

“So lazy,” he teases, unclasping the button on his jeans, tugging down the zipper. “I could always make you work for it.”

“Have mercy on me, Oretsev. I’m still recovering from the pleasures of your cocky mouth.”

He looks so proud of himself, she wants to kiss him just to wipe the smirk off of his face. “If you enjoyed my cocky mouth, just wait until you feel my—

“Do not finish that sentence.”

But then he’s pushing down his boxers, and all Alina can do is stare as the cock in question springs free. He’s fully hard this time around, and her thighs squeeze together at the sight. He watches her as she practically drools over his dick, his smirk becoming even, well, smirkier. She reaches out and curls her fingers around his length, giving him two quick strokes — both to clear the smirk from his face and because she so very much wants to touch him. 

“Fuck, Alina,” he hisses. He’s reaching for his jeans, probably to grab a condom from his pocket, but she grabs his hand.

“I’m on the pill, and I’ve been tested recently.” Of course, there’s still a slight risk. But it’s Mal — finally Mal — and she wants to feel every inch of him.

He pauses, then nods. “Okay.” Crawling over her, he takes one of her hands and intertwines their fingers. With his other hand, he grips his cock and drags the tip through her folds like the damn tease he is, eliciting needy mewling from her that he seems to enjoy. In her ear, he murmurs, “How do you want this, Alina?”

“I don’t want to be able to walk tomorrow.”

Mal chuckles softly, but the sound so close to her ear sends more shivers down her spine. “As you wish, moya solnishka.” My little sun.

She has only a brief moment to bask in the sweetness of his words before he’s slamming into her all in one go, anything sweet flying out the window. Mal keeps a steady rhythm while sucking on her neck, which is good, because all Alina can do is moan incoherently as her nails leave scratches down his back.

When he senses her getting close, Mal brings his finger to her clit, circling just right. “Saints!” she cries, and comes undone beneath him once again. But this time, she gets to watch him fall over the edge with her, his eyes so incredibly dark as he moans his release. He’s the only man she’s ever let come inside of her, and it feels very right that it’s Mal — she doesn’t want anyone else filling her like this, marking her in a sense as his spend drips down her thighs.

They stay like that for a while, foreheads pressed together, sweaty and sticky, but blissfully so. 

“So, is the sex still good on this side of the apartment?”

In answer, he dips his head and bites down on one of her tits.

“Shit, Malyen!”

“Ridiculous questions get ridiculous responses,” he teases, then wraps his arms around her, tucking his face into the crook of her shoulder. “You’re all I’ve wanted for two years, Alina, and this still beat my expectations.”

Smiling, she rests her chin against the top of his head. “Good. I would hate to have to start fucking in Zoya’s bed just because you like the airflow better there.”

“Smart ass,” Mal mutters, but he’s smiling. Then he says, "You know, this may not be my first time fucking in this apartment, but I’m still checking off a first tonight — of many, I hope.”

Alina rolls her eyes. “Yes, I’m aware this is your first time fucking me in this apartment, dumb ass.”

"That’s not what I meant, rude ass.”

She frowns. “Then what did you mean?”

He squeezes her hip. “It’s my first time spending the night.”

Her heart does a little jump in her chest, and she doesn’t even have it in her to tease that she hasn’t actually asked him to stay yet. But stay he does, though he gets her off a few more times before they pass out for the night — definitely beating her vibrator. One time it’s with his fingers, so incredibly long that she knows all her fantasies will involve the slender digits now. Another is after Alina murmurs about how filthy she is and that she really ought to take a shower. 

Mal waits long enough to join her that she starts to worry he hadn’t understood her intent. But then she hears his footsteps, and the shower curtain opens. There’s no bottle throwing this time, though she can’t say the same for the screaming. He steps into the shower, kisses her slowly, sensually, then pushes her back until she shivers from the feeling of cold tile against her bare skin.

“I meant to ask, you do know you have mirrors in here, right?” Mal murmurs huskily into her ear. She’s too disoriented with want to understand until he says, “I saw you staring at my ass last time.”

Then he slams into her, and Alina no longer has to imagine how it feels to be fucked against the shower wall.

[glassartpeasants]

Storage Closet

Shin Nemoto x F!Reader

Warnings: Wall sex, degradation, mentions of cuminflation?

A/N: I’m gonna see all you hoes in hell. I hate this. I’m tagging the people who I know willingly made me do it.

Taglist: @poke-txts @thotsforvillainrights 

~~~

“What I wouldn’t give to see that fucker put in his place. He thinks he’s all that but-uh he just make me so fucking anger.” You and Kurono sit in the yakuza living as he rants to you about a man named Shin Nemoto. Everytime it was always something new that Kurono had complained to you about. 

You two were good friends you’d like to say. You met Chisaki and Kurono in middle school after you helped both of them pass the art class that they need a credit for in order to graduate. After that you became good friends with the two boys. 

You watched them slowly grow the yakuza and hire people in and out. They felt like they were swarming all around before you knew it. Plague masks everywhere, seriousness in the air. Sometimes it was just boring around here. This place needed a little drama. A little spice.

Which gave you an idea that made your lips curl into a smile.

“Hey Kurono, I got an idea.”

“About what?”

“How to knock Nemoto down a peg or two.” Kurono’s eyebrow perked up as he gave you a intrigued look. He let out a chuckle.

“I’m listening.”

~~~

‘How am I supposed to get this fuck alone when all he does is follow Overhaul around like a lost puppy?’ Your groan in your head as your pretend to clean the floors. Your just waiting for the right moment to strike. Unlucky for you, you weren’t very patient. So that’s why it felt like an eternity.

So when you heard them walking down the hallways close to you, you had to quickly make a plan up so you could get him alone. You see Mimic, Kurono and Nemoto behind Overhaul as they walked towards you.

“Good afternoon Overhaul.” To be honest, even though you were friends, he still made you call him that. Kinda sucks but you rather not be turned into a puddle of blood. 

“Good afternoon (L/N). Thank you for cleaning the floors without being told.” He and the others starts to walk away before you realize this is your chance.

“Oh! I forgot to ask if it was okay if I talk to Nemoto for a second? I promise it will only take a few minutes.” You see Overhaul raise an eyebrow before letting out a sigh.

“Only a few minutes.” He said as the rest of them started walking off. Just leaving you and Nemoto. As soon as they were outta view, you grab Nemoto by the collar and drag him into the storage closet.

“Jesus fuck! What the hell woman-” You push his back against the door before putting a knife to his throat.

“If you don’t want your throat slit I suggest you listen to me. Okay Nemoto?” You felt him tense out and let out annoyed groan.

“Fine what?”

“Take off your mask.” He let out a sigh before he took off his hat and unclasped his mask. setting on one of the shelves of the closet. His bare face now in view.

“Now why would you cover up such a pretty face?” You say as you take off your own mask. You put your hand on his chest as you lean your face towards his.

“What the fuck are you even trying to do.” You let out a snicker before threading your fingers into his hair as you brought your lips to his ear.

“Be good and I’ll give you a little treat.” You could see his fist clench before he let out a soft gasp once he felt your lips press against his neck.

“Take off this.” You tug on his poor excuse of an outfit. You heard him let out a grumble before he took it off.

“Hehe.” You went back to kissing his neck before putting the knife back into your back pocket as you start to slowly trail your hand down his chest.

He let out a hiss once he felt your teeth brush against the one spot that had him red faced. You smile as you latched your lips onto said spot and starting sucking on it. Giving it little nibbles as well.

“Y-You better not leave a mark you bitch.” Nemoto turned his head so he didn’t have to look at you in the eyes. But that only gave you more room to cover his neck in hickeys and bites. 

“You look like such a pretty slut with all these hickeys on your neck.” You laugh in his ear as you gave it a little nibbe before you started to kiss his jawline.

“I am no slut. I’m not the one who dragged me in here just to make just to kiss my neck.” Your lips stop in front of his as you looked into his eyes.

“Who said that’s all I’m gonna do?” You push your lips on his as you let go of his hair and move both hands to his shoulders. Surprised, Nemoto tried to push you off only to realize he pretty much put his hands on your chest.

“You say your not enjoying this and yet here you are grabbing my breasts. You seem excited.”

“It was an accident and you know it!” You laugh against his ear, your hands moving down to his chest as you begin to slowly unbutton his shirt. Just as you were about to speak you feel his lips slowly but barely moving with yours. A small victory that will slowly lead into a bigger one.

You felt his hands move down to your hips as he starts groping at the flesh there. His lips started moving to the same speed as yours, making him finally accept the kiss. You have a small smile on your face as you finished unbuttoning the last button on his shirt. 

Your hands slowly move around his bare chest as you used your nails to softly graze across it, making him shiver. You let out a gasp once you feel his hands take residence at your thighs. He pulled you closer to him before he moved his lips to your ear,

“Jump.” Once you did what he asked he wrapped your legs around his waist. This time it was his turn to trap you against the wall. His body pressed up against yours as he started to kiss your neck and move his hips into against your clothed core. 

‘I was just coming to give him a handjob. How did we end up like this?’  Your thoughts were running wild as the feeling of his humping against your core made your clit throb in need. You started moving your hips along with his earning yourself a little groan. 

You move your hands down to his pants as you begin to unbuckle his belt and pull down the zipper of his pants. His fingers hook onto your own pants as he begin sliding them down your legs. You helped by stepping out of them before he put your legs back around his waist. Your panties still hiding your cunt.

His fingers move towards your clothed cunt as you feel the pads of his fingers stop at your clit. His fingers slowly rub it causing your toes to curl and moan out. You shake in his hold as your pride is holding you back from telling him to go a bit faster. 

His hand left your clit making your whimper in disappointment before you felt something poke at the fabric  of your panties. You look down to see his cock probing at your entrance. You were just wet enough from the treatment he gave your clit.

His fingers move your panties to the side a bit before you felt him try and push into your tight cunt.

“D-Damn...so tight...” He let out a groan before moving his hips back. Before you can say anything you got the wind knocked outta you from him slamming his entire length into you. Your nails digging into his chest as you scratch it. You swore you have heard him whisper your name but you didn’t wanna seem like an idiot if you didn’t hear it.

His hips slowly moving back and forth as you swear you could feel him hit your cervix. His hands holding your waist as to keep you in place. His fingers digging into your flesh, which is surely going to leave bruises afterwards. 

“Fuck your so wet a-and tight.” You could feel his hot breath on your neck as his hips snapped into yours. Your toes curl as you bit your lip, trying to not give him the pleasure of hearing you moan more. 

You felt his hand grab your chin and turn your face towards him where he caught you in a kiss. You couldn’t even focus on the kiss, not while you felt him pounding away at your cervix. You swear you could have felt him in your tummy. 

You let out a wanton moan once you felt his fingers place themselves back on your clit and start rubbing again, this time only faster.

“F-Fuck...Nemoto-” 

“Shut up slut. You started it and I’m finishing it bitch.” His thrusts got faster ashe put more force on his grip on your waist. You started to shake as you felt your climax creeping up on you.

“Are you gonna cum slut? I thought you were the ‘big bad guy’ but turns out your just a whore who wants to get fucked in a storage closet.” You can see why Kurono doesn’t like him. But you can’t deny that your close to letting go.

“C’mon bitch. Cum on my cock and I’ll pump you full of my cum. My little cumdump.” You dig your nails into his chest before letting out a scream that was silenced by Nemoto kissing you. Your eyes rolled back as you cum right on his cock.

“Fuck! You just got so much tighter.” His arms wrap around your waist to bring you closer to him before sinking his teeth into your neck so you don’t move. You could feel the base of his dick rubbing against your clit which led you to getting the pleasurable feeling all over again.

“Gonna cum again? Your more of a whore then I thought you were haha-Fuck gonna cum inside my slut.” Nemoto’s hips begin to stutter before he moved his hips to be connected to yours. He lets out a groan in your ear before you felt his cum fill up your cunt. You followed right after him.

Nemoto moves his head down to see the place where you two are connected before letting out a moan as he saw the trail of cum that connected his cock and your pussy together. His cum running down the side of your thighs. He could just feel himself getting hard again just looking at the sight.

You felt like you couldn’t even move your legs. Your legs twitched and you were certain that you were gonna walk with a sort of limp after this. You go to try and unhook your legs from his waist only to have his cock plunged inside you once more. 

“W-what?!”

“I’m not done yet my slut. When I’m done with you, you can only go so far without tripping cause of how much cum I’ve pumped into you. We’re long from over. From now on this pussy belongs to me. And it’ll only know that shape of my cock.” You felt every inch of him once he plunged inside of you once again.

“Now scream my name so the whole base can hear who you belong too.”