#all i managed today was to go out for a walk in the afternoon..

[inmaki]

gojo showing off your back scratches to geto

( cont from this fic! req, visual ) .

contains: sex talk, desc of back scratches, crack, sugu is called daddy once (as a joke.. right..)

everything was relatively peaceful in suguru's apartment. key word: relatively.

a forgettable yet appreciated sunday afternoon, not a cloud in sight despite the weather forecast predicting downpours of rain. either way, the raven-haired man insouciantly rested across his white couch, reaching the conclusion that today would be a day for self-care, relaxing, and perhaps some meditation.

there was only one thing ruining his peace.

all morning, suguru has been forced to try and ignore the stain a certain someone has left on his couch — a pair of unecessarily expensive yet dirty shoes being the culprit.

despite these attempts, every once in a while his gaze can't help but wander over at the mark — as if it'd poof out of existence if he glared hard enough.

"fuckin' asshole.." he mutters. it was a wonder his relationship with his best friend managed to stay so promising despite all their differences, yet suguru wouldn't have it any other way, even after situations like this.

right when he grumpily turns back to the tv — which was playing some crappy, low budget rom-com — his apartment door is yanked open and suguru swears he nearly jumps out of his seat.

great, was this it? was he about to get robbed, perhaps evicted? and then probably die? forced into the afterlife knowing gojo's shoe-shit was still on his new couch? no that can't—

"i fucked her!"

suguru whips his head towards the apartment door, announcement being disregarded as he nearly groans in agony. speak of the devil.

big blue eyes peak out from under circular sunglasses, one hand already raised in preparation for a dap up while his stupid, big, dirty shoe pushes the door closed behind him. gojo wears a black compression shirt with grey sweats, marching over to his friend with a ginormous grin across his cheeks.

"take your shoes off, now," suguru snaps, nodding to his friend's feet with a frown.

"yeesh... whatever y'say, daddy," the bastard never loses his smile as his hands raise in surrender, kicking them off by the door smoothly. "what's got your panties in a twist?"

geto pinches his nose bridge. "don't call me that," as he continues the scolding, he points to the living room with his free hand. "you got a mystery stain on my couch, satoru. do you know how many youtube videos i watched trying to get this shit off?"

unphased, gojo takes a look at the strangely colored blob against the armrest's leather material and shrugs. "my bad. did you try febreeze?"

"what— no? dude, febreeze is for.." when suguru looks back up to sourly meet his gaze, he could immediately tell the white-haired man was already drifting back into la-la-land, words going in one ear and out the other. "..nevermind. why're you here?"

at the reminder, satoru seemingly brightens, head shooting back up as if he was just told he'd won the lottery.

"oh god, don't make that stupid face—" he pauses. "the fuck are you doing?" suguru might as well say goodbye to his self-care day, because now gojo was stripping in the middle of his living room, shirt thrown haphazardly onto the still-very-much-stained couch.

"just look!" suguru squints as his friend swivels around to face the wall, pushing his bangs away to get a better view of the— oh shit.

it takes the raven-haired man a second to process what he's seeing before shuffling forward, closely examining the achingly red, bulging scratch marks displayed sexily across the latter's back and shoulders. "no way.."

suguru knows the strongest sorcerer well enough to notice how he purposely didn't use reversed cursed technique on these scratches, just so it'd be obvious to anyone that caught a glimpse of what exactly occured. to his further dismay, he can already picture a smug and sweaty gojo walking around their local gym like this, proud simper on his pretty lips as he easily raises a pair of weights in his veiny hands.

a hiss escapes geto's mouth as he runs his finger down a particularly agitated one, knowing exactly how painful they could be after experiencing many hook-ups of his own. even so, satoru only licks his lips, neck craning to the side so he can pride himself in his friend's gobsmacked expression.

"damn, these are deep. you actually hit it?" suguru confirms, raising a celebratory hand.

turning back around, satoru daps him up, a massive smirk now on both their faces. "hell yeah, it was amazing."

it was impossible to predict what gojo would do next after barging through his front door — especially considering how many times he's done so — but this has to be the last thing suguru ever expected.

not that he was complaining — in fact, all of geto's temper and need for relaxation seemingly flew out the window, the feeling of proudness for his best friend overthrowing anything else.

and even if he hated to admit it, the way gojo was so eager to come over and announce his virginity loss to him was more than a little endearing, and dare he say cute.

"that's great, man. congrats." suguru leads him into the kitchen — still shamelessly shirtless — to grab them both a can of beer in celebration. while the white-haired man usually didn't get involved with any form of alcohol, this occasion was most definitely exception-worthy. "you made y/n cum too, right?"

an offended glare is shot his way. "duh, two times."

"huh. surprised you could last."

as suguru pours their drinks into two fragile cups, gojo exhales, not bothered in the slightest by his jab. "dude, same.." he admits dreamily. "she was so fuckin' tight and warm.. and oh— fuck, her moans? heavenly.. 'can't believe i didn't bust after the first minute.."

geto gulps, trying his best to ignore the mental image his brain was producing from his dirty words. you can't blame him — both of you were smoking hot, and he was a simple man.

even now, he could already imagine what you both looked like; panting and moaning, skin-slapping so loud that it echoed through the whole room, how blissed out you'd look as gojo's cock split you in t—

satoru's playful sigh cuts through the tensing air. "who knows sugs, maybe you'll have another kind of stain to worry about next time we're over~"

he's never snapped out of a daydream so quickly. "don't even joke about that."

over the next hour, the two men sat manspread on the stained couch, taking leisure sips while recalling satoru's final moments as a virgin — suguru giving out his secret tips and tricks along the way.

maybe sometime, suguru could offer some.. hands-on learning instead.

mlist! <- sugu.. how could u think abt ur bestie and his gf like that... tsk tsk tsk (if u enjoyed reblogs/comments r appreciated heheh)

© inmaki on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not cross-post, translate, copy in any way, etc.

[so-many-ocs]

practical writing advice

part 2

avoid writing in bed if you can. writing in bed is the mind-killer. writing in bed is the little death that brings obliteration. you may think "but i can write AND be cozy" you will get sleepy so fast. 98% of the time when i try to get a nighttime writing session done in bed i go to sleep. maybe 70% of the time if it's an afternoon writing session. also it fucking kills your wrists.

STRETCH before writing. stretch as many parts of your body as possible ESPECIALLY YOUR WRISTS! i have chronic tendonitis in both of my arms from not doing this and it is manageable but it is Not Fun!

plug your phone in on the other side of the room. better yet, plug it in and leave it in another room. better yet, power it off and leave it in another room. "i'll just check one quick thing" do not underestimate the power of the doomscroll.

do a warmup. look up writing prompts (i like one-word prompts or prompts that focus on a general theme as it's easier to integrate into my writing style), set a timer for fifteen minutes, or ten, or five, and go ham. make it shitty or incomprehensible, as long as you make it. create a dump document for all your warmups. i currently have two novels in the works that started as one of these fifteen minute little warmups.

pick your background noise ahead of time if you use it, and look for something long. i listen to 3-hour-long silent hill ambient mixes on youtube dot com.

take breaks. around every 45 minutes, as i'm noticing myself begin to lose focus, i get up, grab a drink, get my blood flowing, and give myself some space to breathe.

sometimes i sit down to write and i think "every atom in my body is averse to doing this right now. i would rather dance barefoot on a bed of nails than open my laptop and start typing." and you know what i do? i go do something else instead. don't force it! it will become a chore.

that being said! write as often as possible. try to write every day. try to write at the same time. don't beat yourself up if you can’t, BUT the more often you write, the more often you'll want to write.

if you're stuck on a scene or a page or a chapter, go back to the last place where you felt like you knew what you were doing and start writing from there. keep a copy of your other writing in case you want to reuse it or refer back!

i don't know if this is something that will be helpful for other people but i start mentally preparing myself for my writing session a few hours ahead of time. i will say to myself, "today, at this time, i'm gonna sit down and write that scene where mina walks out on her book club, and it's going to be awesome and i'm looking forward to it." then, by the time i actually begin, i basically have the whole thing written out in my head and can just put it down to paper. it's a good way to at least kickstart the session !

ok thanks bye

[hedgehog-moss]

I saw an astronaut walking on the side of the road today, which is the kind of thing my brain will placidly accept at first, only to go "Wait, an astronaut" a minute later once I'm done with my previous train of thought. By then I felt like it might be too late to stop my car, but I ended up stopping anyway because I didn't want to spend the rest of the afternoon wondering.

I waited for the astronaut to catch up with me since they were going in my direction, but they didn't. Eventually I got out of the car and retraced my steps, and after a bend in the road when I saw no one walking towards me I decided the visitor must have gone back to their spacecraft and I would never get an explanation for this—and then in the distance I caught a glimpse of the white space suit disappearing into the forest.

I managed to catch up with them and they turned out to be a distant neighbour of mine (let's call her M.), and what looked like a space suit when I was driving by was a beekeeper's outfit! (Sorry for the pointless suspense but I was taking you on the same little journey my brain went through.) M. was tickled when she learnt that I mistook her for an astronaut—she told me she'd borrowed her husband's too-big shoes which made her drag her feet, hence why she looked like she was having trouble readjusting to Earth's gravity.

Then she said that one of her hives had swarmed, and she was pretty sure she knew where the swarm was. I had no idea how swarming worked so as we walked in the woods she explained that when a hive becomes too crowded, the queen will get replaced by a new one, and the old queen will leave along with half of the bees. After this split, the swarm will cluster somewhere nearby and wait while scout bees fly away in search of a new hive location. "That's when you have to catch them—if you can find the swarm. But here it is!"

I wasn't expecting quite so many bees!! I'm pretty scared of all flying creatures so allow me to pat myself on the back for what came next—I thought I was about to learn how to catch a swarm from a prudent distance, but M. asked if I could give her a hand, seeing as her husband was supposed to be here to help but clearly wasn't.

The first step of catching a swarm was spraying the bees with sugar water, and I was glad not to be asked to help with that, as it seemed like something that could make bees angry. ("On the contrary, it makes them less agitated!" I was told, but that remained to be seen.) Step 2 was pulling on a rope tied to the tree branch in order to lower the swarm into the new hive, and that was the job I was recruited for. The rope was long enough that I could stand several metres away to pull on it, but my role in this swarm-catching business was still all too clear to any angry bee looking for someone to blame.

I remembered reading that bees can sense the electric field of flowers, so I thought there was no way they wouldn't sense the staticky nervousness coming from the rope-puller, but thankfully they completely ignored me.

M. was offering one fun fact about bees after the other, in a very relaxed voice, which was very interesting and very soothing for both me and the bees. She said this particular colony was very sweet ("some bee colonies are meaner than others?" "yes of course"), and that swarming usually happens a bit earlier in the year "but it's been raining so much lately, the bees had to postpone all their activities, just like us" and also "swarming involves quite a bit of planning ahead of time; for example worker bees have to put the queen on a diet so she won't be too fat to fly. Did you know that?" I did not!

Unfortunately our first attempt to catch the swarm failed. The bees entered the hive, had a quick look around their new home, then left in disgust and formed a thick, angry, buzzing cloud over our heads, while I tried to think nothing but bee-loving thoughts to make my electric field harmless and friendly.

Then one after the other all the bees returned to the exact same spot on the branch where we'd first found them. ("Because it smells like the queen" said M.) We examined the near-empty hive and found that a mouse had made a nest in there! She was no longer here but the traces of her passage were evident (some of the comb was very nibbled.)

As we were removing the supplies brought in by the mouse (sticks, hay), M.'s husband joined us and he had brought a spray bottle containing some sort of bee-attracting liquid (pheromones?) (I didn't have a close look at the bottle because I made sure to stay far away from the bee-attracting liquid, while he sprayed it inside the hive.)

He had also brought a white sheet which he spread under the tree, explaining that the bees will want to get away from the bright surface and look for darkness, thus hopefully getting inside the box. Another thing I learnt is that once the queen enters the hive, the nearest worker bees will spread the message by turning round and fluttering their wings to send a chemical signal in specific directions, which will be picked up by other bees farther away; at strategic intervals some bees will light the beacons of Gondor turn round and fan their wings to relay this scent-message until the entire colony is informed of the queen's new location.

We were more successful the second time around! This time the bees who went in didn't immediately get out again to return to their branch. Well I say "we" but I didn't volunteer to pull on the rope again, so I can't claim any role in this victory. But my personal victory was that I stood quite a bit nearer this time so I could watch everything closely, and I felt more intrigued than nervous. Bees were constantly zipping past me but it had become clear that my electric field was pure and they bore me no ill will. I was always fond of bees from afar and happy to see them do their thing in flowers in the spring, but today's adventure got me interested in their daily life as well, so I think I'll read some books about bees this summer!

I was reading last month about the morality of termite colonies (Maeterlinck's La vie des termites) and I had a feeling this man must have written some poetic stuff about bees as well—and he did. Here's a translated excerpt from his book "La vie des abeilles" :)

[valleyofheartz]

Beginning of the End

pairing: Suna Rintarou x F!Reader

angst to fluff

WC: 3.1k

synopsis: when Suna begins to spend more time with his close friends, including his new sickeningly sweet manager, you start to wonder if you’re not as important to him as you thought.

content/warnings: neglect, mentions of beating up (no one gets beat up), jealousy, insecurity, no use of y/n, lmk if i missed anything!

you make your way towards the gymnasium with a giddy smile as you hum the lyrics to Apple Cider. it’s a boring Thursday afternoon, and while you had the option of going home immediately, you figured you’d stop by Rintarou’s volleyball practice. after all, you’d baked some brownies and thought it would be a fun surprise for the boys.

you peek your head through the door to ensure no volleyballs are going to attack you, before slipping in and running towards the benches. you notice Suna spot you with his intense stare, and you give him a smile paired with a wave in response. he waves back before focusing on the rest of his practice.

you manage to get some work done throughout the hour, not disturbing the team as you know how serious the sport is to them. by the time you’ve finished your homework, they’ve begun to pack up and head to the locker room.

Atsumu, however, wipes his sweat with a towel before walking towards you.

“Hey, [Name], how are ya doin'?” he asks you with a crooked grin.

you finish zipping up your backpack before looking up, “I’m doing okay! Just waiting for Rin.”

he nods understandingly as the rest of the boys walk out, dressed in fresh clothes and looking much less… stinky. Rintarou eyes you and Atsumu as he lazily stalks over, draping an arm over you and pulling you close.

he bends down and kisses your temple, “Hey, baby. What’re you doing here?”

you pause, looking up at him unsure as you are aware of the presence of his team members. “I was waiting for you. I was thinking we could go back home together and watch a movie?”

he lifts his arm to rub the back of his neck. “Sorry, today the team is going out for dinner. Maybe tomorrow?”

you ignore the pinch in your heart at the lack of an invitation, but you justify it as it is a team dinner. and make no mistake, no matter how close you were, you were not part of his team.

“Oh, okay.” you murmur with an awkward smile. you look towards Osamu who stands off to the side, “Hey, ‘Samu, I made my brownies again since you all loved them so much. Here.”

you reach out to give them to him as he rips open the lid and stares at it with heart-eyes. he looks back to you, “Thank ya so much [Name], ya sure ya don’t wanna dump Sunarin for me? I could eat these for the rest of ma life.”

Suna immediately wraps an arm around your waist, tugging you into his chest as he glowers at Osamu. you giggle as Osamu merely raises his hands in mock surrender. the rest of the team digs in, including Atsumu who you notice still hasn’t changed. but that was none of your business.

what was your business, was the pouty messy haired boy in front of you who looked like a sad puppy.

“Hey. Where’s mine?”

you smile fondly, before unzipping your backpack and pulling out a neatly wrapped bag of brownies. they were decorated with caramel drizzle and mini sprinkle hearts.

Suna lights up at the sight, gently grabbing it from your hand and kissing the side of your face. “Thanks.” he whispers, causing you to shiver at the low tone.

“Should you all be eating brownies when nationals is just around the corner? I thought you’d be more strict about this, Kita-san.” a gentle voice comes from behind. you look over and find their manager, Akira, as she frowns at the team.

Kita looks thoroughly scolded as he stares at the brownie in his hand, his cheeks puffed out as he stops chewing.

your brows furrow as you notice everyone stop eating. you force a smile, “I thought it would be fine since it’s been months since I gave it to them.”

Atsumu nods as he finishes chewing, licking his fingers once he’s done. “Yeah, don’t worry about it Akira, yer new so ya don’t know this, but [Name] always bakes for us. It doesn’t hurt to have somethin’ sweet once in a while.”

she sighs, a dimpled smile coming onto her face, “I suppose you’re right, Atsumu. Well, when are we leaving?”

your face drops at the we. who is we, you begin to wonder. the team? her? everyone here but you? you clench your fist as you inhale quietly. you turn to Suna with a smile.

“I’m gonna head home before it gets darker, have fun at your dinner.” you kiss his cheek before placing your bag over your shoulder and leaving, uncaring of the fact that your exit was not the nicest.

perhaps this was the beginning of the end of your and Suna’s relationship. looking back, you should’ve noticed something was wrong. but what were you to do, other than ride the catastrophic wave as a rookie surfer.

✾

things began to go downhill from there. slowly, but surely, you were losing Rintarou. it went from team dinners, to team hangouts, to spending lunch breaks with the team. it was the team, team, team, and team. and a quick glance at Atsumu’s Instagram let you know that Akira was included in every team plan.

that didn’t mean you didn’t try. because if there’s anything you ever did, it was try your best.

“Hey, Rin! Let’s get dinner on Saturday?”

he looks at you with a guilty smile, kissing your lips gently. you part, dazed, but he lets you down with his next words. “Sorry, team dinner again. Maybe next week?”

-

“Rinnie, was thinking of seeing the new Barbie movie with you. Wanna go on Friday?” you ask with hopeful eyes. the Barbie movie was gaining so much popularity lately, it was hard to go about your days without seeing spoilers.

he pauses, before running a hand through his messy dark hair, “Sorry, babe. The team already asked me to go with them. I can rewatch it with you some other time though?”

“No need,” you shake your head with a wry smile.

“Have fun, Rin.”

you end up going to the theatres alone and shoving popcorn in your mouth every time the couples next to you giggle.

the last straw was when he flaked on your usual Thursday lunch break meetup. the two of you would sit on the rooftop together and enjoy picking at each others food. it would often end in you being cuddled into his chest, enjoying the soft kisses down your neck.

the past few weeks, he hadn’t been present at all. he was physically there, but his mind was somewhere else. he’d be on his phone texting the team group chat you were obviously not in, and it was getting ridiculous. so when he fails to show up this week, you begin to wonder how much more of this you’ll put up with.

he doesn’t text you back for the rest of the day, and while you wish you could say you were angry, you were more so disappointed. was expecting him to prioritize you asking for too much? was it unreasonable to want to be chosen first? was love meant to hurt this much?

you make your way to the gymnasium once again after class. your face that once held a happy smile is replaced with a blank look, as you are unable to force yourself to look something you do not feel.

you walk in without a care of the volleyballs being thrown across the room, but you stop when you spot Akira, dimpled brown-haired Akira, who is in your Rintarou’s sweater. the sleeves fall below her hands, and the sweater paws look horrifically adorable. she smiles as she talks with the team, handing their water bottles to them. you wonder if you are imagining the glint in her eyes as she hands Rintarou his, their fingers brushing lightly as she gives it to him.

“[Name]!” a loud voice calls. it snaps you out of your daze, but you wish it hadn’t. tears begin to build in your eyes, so you turn around and walk out. you quickly wipe them away, thankful that your eyes don’t get red easily as you continue walking.

but then you hear footsteps. someone’s running towards you. you know it’s Rintarou, but you can’t face him right now. you speed up your steps, but he catches up with you in no time and softly grabs your wrist, pulling you into his chest.

you rip your arm out harshly, frowning up at him.

he exhales, out of breath from practice and running. “Baby, what’s wrong? Why did you leave?”

he pauses, “Why do you look so upset?”

he moves closer to grab your face in his hands, but you take a step back, needing the space.

“Why… Why was she in your sweater, Rintarou?”

he frowns, eyes looking around as his mind scrambles to understand you. “Who? You mean Akira? She wasn’t feeling well during lunch so I gave her my sweater.”

your heart drops. so while you were waiting for him alone at the rooftop he was with her? your face twists; you aren’t sure what kind of expression you’re showing, but it must annoy Suna, as he scoffs quietly, sliding a hand over his face.

“You’re not upset over that, are you? Because I don’t remember you being so possessive like that.”

you bark out a sarcastic laugh, looking at him as you tilt your head, “Possessive? More like I’m fucking normal, Rintarou. With the way you’ve been neglecting me lately, this is just the cherry on top.”

you shake your head, ignoring his concerned eyes. “Go back to practice, Suna. I’m going home.”

you turn around, fully expecting to be pulled back, but nothing happens. you continue to walk, letting out a shaky exhale as you place your headphones on. tears slip out of your eyes as your vision begins to blur. you blink harshly, wondering why every situation seemed to leave you utterly alone.

✾

“She said something about Akira being in my sweater.” Suna dries his hair messily with the towel in his hands before leaving it draped on his neck.

Osamu shrugs, “Well, that’s a valid reason to be uncomfortable in my opinion.”

Aran nods in agreement beside him. “Yeah, you considered that maybe you pushed a boundary of hers?”

Suna frowns, trying to ignore the flashes in his head of your heartbroken face. his chest aches. he hates not being on good terms with you.

Atsumu comes out from the showers, stretching his arms as he yawns.

“How was yer lunch with her today? Did she seem upset earlier?”

Suna pauses at Atsumu’s words.

Lunch?

Today was…Thursday.

he stands, scrambling as he rummages through his bag for his phone. he quickly opens your contact and looks at your texts. he sighs with a heavy heart at what he sees. why didn’t he get your texts?

he checks to the settings, finding that he had your contact muted. he knows he could have never done that, so he traces his memory back to whoever had his phone. the only time he left his phone alone today was when he was with Akira in the nurses room.

putting the pieces together, he shuts off his phone and tosses it back into his bag.

“Fuck.”

-

Suna looks for you on Friday, but you manage to slip away every time he got close. he sat in your usual seat in class, only for you to sit up at the front close to the door. when class was over, you quickly packed your bags and was out before he could blink.

when he looked for you at lunch, he found you surrounded by your friends. you must’ve told them something, because the moment they saw him they glared before huddling closer to you as if to protect you. he rolls his eyes at the thought but is happy you have such caring friends.

he waits by your locker after school, crossing his arms and leaning on the cool metal. he has practice, but he has priorities. and perhaps he neglected you for the past three weeks, but he knows he can fix this. he can be better.

but when you don’t show up, he wonders what the point of being better is if you’re not there.

his eyes trace the lines in the concrete as he walks towards the gym. the rest of practice he’s off his game, with sloppy spikes and weak serves. sure, he gets told off by Kita but it’s not as bad as the pain of potentially losing you.

Akira walks up to him after practice. she taps his shoulder. “Hey, Suna. I was wondering if you wanted to visit the Illusion Cafe with me this weekend? I know you love sweets and I heard lots of good things!” she smiles sweetly, but all Suna can focus on is the sweater she is wearing. it’s his.

more importantly, it’s yours.

he frowns, “No. I’m gonna spend that time with my girlfriend.”

Akira’s expression drops into a slight scowl. his eyebrow twitches at the mere sight. why would she be angry that he’s spending time with his girlfriend?

“Oh…Okay. Let me know if you change your mind.” she says with a tight lipped smile.

he looks back at the sweater before glancing at her face. “I won’t. Also, I’d like my sweater back sometime soon, thanks.”

her face reddens at his comment. she nods, embarrassed, before scurrying away.

Suna sighs, walking to the locker room and wondering how he was gonna get you to talk to him.

-

the team walks out of the gym, with Suna tuning their mindless rambling out. he stretches, finding his eyes seem heavier than usual. he hadn’t slept well last night, unused to you being angry with him that it left him so unsettled he couldn’t sleep.

“Oh, looks like the basketball team is also going home.”

it’s something insignificant. something Suna thought he’d look over at and forget the next second. but then he sees you.

you, with your arm wrapped around another guy’s arm. he’s tall, taller than Suna. muscular too, and his dark blue hair is captivating. Suna stops walking, causing the rest of the team to take a second glance at what he is looking at.

“Holy shit, is that [Name]? What’s she doin’ with those scrubs?” he distantly hears Atsumu say, but all is on his mind is he needs to get you away from that guy now. away from him and into his arms.

you’re laughing, happy for the first time in three weeks until you hear the rushed footsteps that are approaching you.

“[Name], let’s talk.” Suna demands. unfortunately for him, you’re not in the mood to talk anymore.

you unwrap your arm, looking at Suna directly. “No thanks. Maybe next time.” you quote his favourite line he’d used on you countless times recently. it seems he realizes, as his face crumples.

“Who’s this dolt?” the tall blue haired man asks, and Suna’s eyebrow twitches in irritation. who does this guy think he is?

you sigh, “Sorry, Aomine. This is my…boyfriend.”

Aomine’s brows raise. “Ah, my bad. Didn’t mean to get in the way.”

you shake your head, ignoring the other basketball members who surround you. “You’re not in the way, let’s go home, please.”

Suna walks in front of you, stopping you from moving. you exhale, exhausted from the long three weeks and wanting nothing more than to be in your bed.

“You want me to deal with him, [Name]?” Kagami asks from the side, sliding his sleeves up as Suna’s eyes widen.

a new voice comes from behind Suna, “Deal with him? Yer gonna havta deal with us too then.” Atsumu stands in front of Suna, eyes blazing with confidence. even Kita stands off to the side, seemingly ready to physically intervene. you want to laugh at the scene.

you shake your head at the almost comedic situation in front of you, before clapping your hands loudly. “Okay! That’s enough. Volleyball kids, go on your way. Basketball kids, also go on your way. Suna and I will talk as he walks me home.”

Suna’s eyes light up at your words, but you ignore his gaze. he wasn’t forgiven quite yet.

the rest of them begin to make their way out of the school grounds, except for Suna and Aomine. Aomine looks down at you, bending to your height, “You sure you don’t need me to do anything?”

you smile at his overprotectiveness, “No thanks, I got this. Thank you though, really.” he smiles and ruffles your hair, letting out a small ‘oof’ as you hug him tightly.

Suna stands off to the side, silently seething yet knowing he has no place to tell you what to do, especially not now.

Aomine leaves soon after, with a soft wave and a promise to beat Suna up if he tries anything funny. you glance at Suna who looks unsure and out of place.

“Let’s go?” you don’t wait for an answer and begin walking. you hear soft shuffling as he walks beside you and takes small glances that he thinks are discreet.

you arrive at a park near your house. you take a seat on the swings, Suna carefully doing the same. you wait for him to speak, as you’re all out of love and words to give at the moment.

“So… I think- No I know, I need to start this off by saying I’m sorry.” he stands, moving to position himself in front of you. he bends down, crouching to meet your gaze.

“I was very neglectful these last few weeks. I have no excuse, and I know I’ve hurt you.”

he slowly moves to grab your hand; you allow him, as he brings your limp hand to kiss the back. “I want you to know I made it clear to Akira that you’re my number one. You’re the one I always want, no matter what. I can’t even believe my dumbass made you doubt that.”

he shakes your head, looking down before glancing up. you notice tears building in his lash-line, causing you to sit up in alarm.

“I am seriously so fucking sorry for missing our lunch dates, dinners, and for giving her my sweater.”

you grab his face gently, wiping your thumbs beneath his eyes.

“I’ll burn the sweater, I swear.”

you roll your eyes, squishing his cheeks gently.

he grabs your arms, kissing your inner wrists softly as he looks up at you. “Will you give me a second chance? I promise I won’t fumble.”

the sweet moment is broken, then, as you scoff out a laugh. “You’re not going to fumble me, Rintarou.”

he smiles, cat-like eyes with a lazy grin. “Damn right. Gotta treat you like the princess you are.”

you pout, “Not a queen?”

he laughs, a deep raspy sound. he stands up and tilts his head down to kiss your nose.

“Princess, queen, anything. So long as you’re mine.”

EXTRA:

"So, who was that asshole earlier?"

you shove his shoulder gently, "He's not an asshole! He's my friend. Didn't you know I'm friends with the basketball team? I used to be their manager."

Rintarou scoffs, "Yeah, I knew that, just didn't know those guys were so close to my girl."

you look at him with a blank face.

"Right, and I was the one who was possessive. Sure."

he whines softly, low in his throat as he moves his face into your neck, "I said I was sorry!"

a/n: suna brainrot😵‍💫

[flwrstqr]

𖥔ׅ RICH!BF ENHA HYUNG LINE ⠀ 𝜊9.𝑠

(NOTES) rich bf!enha hyung line x f!r && warning. kissing + fluff 🐰 dani notes: since u wanted this user mioons. here it is 😁

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 heeseung walks into your shared penthouse, a small velvet box in hand, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "baby, i have something for you," he murmurs, his voice soft and loving. he opens the box to reveal a stunning diamond necklace. "for my princess," he whispers, placing it gently around your neck and brushing his lips against your ear. you feel a warmth spread through you as he kisses your cheek, his hands resting on your shoulders. "do you like it, love?" he asks, his eyes searching yours for approval. you nod, feeling overwhelmed and the way he always manages to make you feel cherished. he smiles, pulling you into a gentle kiss, his lips lingering on yours as he murmurs, "anything for you, my princess."

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 jay always insists on carrying your bags, and you can't help but smile at how natural it is for him. today, after an afternoon of shopping, he kneels down to tie your heels, his fingers gentle. "there you go, my love," he says, looking up at you with that charming smile. you lean down to give him a small kiss, your lips brushing his forehead. "thank you, jay," you whisper, and he stands up. "anything for my angel," he murmurs, pressing another kiss to your temple. walking hand-in-hand, you feel like the luckiest person in the world

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍 jake loves spoiling you, and today is no different as he takes you on a shopping spree, his hand never leaving your waist. every store you enter, he picks out luxurious items, insisting you try them all on. "you look stunning, sweetheart," he says, giving you a small kiss on the cheek as you model a designer dress. without hesitation, he hands over his black card, paying for everything with a confident smile. "anything for my princess," he whispers in your ear, making your heart flutter. as you walk out with countless bags, he pulls you close, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. "i love seeing you happy," he says, his eyes shining with adoration

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 sunghoon waits eagerly outside the dressing room, his eyes lighting up every time you step out in a new outfit. he’s completely in awe, his gaze fixed on you with pure admiration. "you look pretty in any outfit, my pretty girl," he murmurs, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close you can feel how deeply he's fallen for you. each time you try on something new, he showers you with compliments, his voice soft and sincere. "how do you always make me fall in love again every single time?" he asks, pressing a small kiss to your forehead, making your heart race.

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader

Simon's short term rental is almost claustrophobic.

He tries to stay out of it, tries to keep himself busy. Active. After a week since you asked him to go home, to give you some space, he noticed he's lost weight. The thick of his ribs, his stomach, his thighs, has thinned out, cutting his bulk, exposing more muscle.

The grief feels more fresh than it has in years. Talking to you, telling you, has dredged up long buried things, agony and regret, pain that steals his breath and leaves him paralyzed. He forces himself not to think of it, but it still finds a way to creep in. To make him feel torn apart, turns him into a ghost.

He walks a lot. Walks to the store. Walks to the pub. Walks to the park. Sometimes he sits on the bench and watches mums push their buggies, wondering if it's something you might enjoy, if you were feeling better. Wishing he had made more of an effort to get you out of the flat, into the sunshine.

He's still walking to your building at night, standing under the tree, watching the lights flicker on and off. Your windows stay lit longer now, periods of sleep more infrequent, leaving him to worry that you're not getting enough rest, not taking care of yourself.

He walked all morning into early afternoon today. Tried to quell the nausea swirling in his stomach, tried not to watch the clock, or count the seconds. Tried to brace himself for the bittersweet he knew was coming.

>Hey, I'm going to be leaving pretty soon for work, and could be gone for a while. Could I see Orion before I go? Spend some time with him?

>Sure.

Your reply still rings in his ears. Short. Torturous.

But he doesn't blame you. He did it the wrong way. You have a child, his child, to protect, to take care of. Of course, you should be concerned. Maybe he should have found a better way to tell you. Maybe he shouldn't have told you at all.

A large part of him, the instinctual part, considered refusing you, when you asked him to give you some time, and he still hasn't made a decision about what he will do in the long run.

It would be so easy, to hide you away. To take you in the middle of the night, wake you up in a brand new home, high in hill, in a whole new country across a border.

When the knock on his door finally comes, he crams the overflow of emotion coursing through his heart into a teeny tiny box, and prays he'll be able to keep a lid on it.

"Hey." Orion turns in your grip, looking for Simon's voice, and you smother a wince at the shift in his weight.

"Hi." You look through him. Past him. To the left of his elbow, at his shoulder, the floor. Anywhere but his eyes.

"Thanks for letting me spend some time with him." Your lips go flat, but you shuffle the baby into his arms, managing to avoid skin to skin contact. It makes his stomach hurt worse than it already did.

"Of course, you're... you're his dad." You peek around him, trying to get a better look of the flat. "Do you uh, have stuff for him?"

"I went to the store."

"Okay. Well, good." You hand him the bag next. "I wasn't sure what you had so there are a few changes of clothes in there, just in case, and some bottles. They should probably go in the fridge. Diapers, some toys. Just in case... I didn't want.... I wanted you to have everything you might need." It's thoughtful of you, and he wants to smile, but you won't look at him.

"Thank you." You nod.

"Alright well, I'll come pick him up later? Just text me I guess, when you're ready. Hopefully he'll take a bottle."

"I can bring him-"

"No, that's okay." you cut him off sharply, shaking your head. He frowns.

"Why not?"

"I- I don't mind, coming by to get him."

"But if it's dark..."

"I can manage." You snap, and he purses his lips, but says nothing.

"Alright well, see you later then." You make some noncommittal noise, and then step closer, mouth pressing to Orion's cheek.

"Bye baby, love you." You finally look up at him, really look, and he holds his breath when he sees it all in your eyes. Pain. Confusion. Worry.

He did that.

The evening goes too fast. He manages to get Ry to nap, and drink over half a bottle, a huge win, but spends most of the time just holding him, walking him in circles in his flat, trying to memorize the feeling of his baby in his arms. He's fussier than usual, crying anytime Simon tries to put him down, which he doesn't mind, but concerns him. Is he like this at home, with you? Is this why you've been up more at night?

Still, it's over too soon, and when you're knocking on the door again, he stands on the other side a few seconds too long, wishing he had more time.

He's always wishing he had more time.

"How was he?"

"Good. More fussy than usual, but I got him to take most of a bottle. Is he doing alright?"

"He's been like this, the past few days. He's either going through a growth spurt, or developing some late colic. I hope it's the growth spurt." Oh no.

"Well, I'm here if you need anything. If you want me to take him at all." You nod.

"When uh... when are you leaving?"

"Two weeks or so. Once the guys get back, they'll have a few days debrief and then... we'll be off."

"Okay, well. Just let me know, when you want him again?"

"I will." He kisses Orion's cheek, whispering in his ear how much he loves him, before passing him to you. You have to reposition your posture to support his weight, and he winces. "Are you okay?" You blink at him, skeptical and surprised.

"I'm great Simon. Really peachy."

"Look, I know I really sprung-"

"Sprung? Is that what you're calling that? Simon... you blindsided me. You... you-" He holds up his hands.

"I'm much more careful now. I've learned a lot of hard lessons, and I would never, ever allow anything to happen to you or Orion." His shoulders slump, and he drops his eyes to the floor. Ashamed. Grief trying to work its way, trying to break him down just as it has all these years before. "I've learned from my mistakes." There's a long, uncomfortable since between the two of you, one that Orion fills with fussing, and then your voice cracks.

"Simon, that wasn't your fault.... I'm not... I'm not upset about... that. Or anything, that happened to you. I mean, I'm upset but not at you for that..." You take a deep breath. "I am upset for you, that those things happened to you, that you've been through such trauma, such horrible things." Tears wet your cheeks, but he doesn't move. Doesn't breathe. "I would never hold that against you. I'm upset about your job. And the danger it puts us in. I'm upset that I didn't know that you'd been gone for weeks, possibly months at a time. I'm upset that you promised me you'd be here, and then never mentioned the super secret task force that will... take you away from us." Orion cries, and you bounce him back and forth, finally looking Simon dead in the eye, facing him head on. "It feels like you've been lying to me, for weeks now. I thought we were in this, together, that we were- we were building something, together. Now it just feels like... I could lose you at any second instead. That Orion could lose his father, grow up without you." The last word rips from your lips in a sob, and you shake your head as he steps close.

"You will never lose me. Do you understand? That will never happen." He vows it, swears it, forces it out into the universe as a covenant, but you only shake your head again, sadly.

"You can't promise that."

[gguk-n]

Rewritten Headlines (Charles Leclerc X Model!Reader)

Fake dating mixed SMAU and imagine. All the pictures are from pinterest. Random girls from Pinterest no specific person

{Reader's POV}

My manager mailed me the tickets to Monaco. I was flying in on the Sunday morning and then I was to meet some guy who was gonna be my fake boyfriend apparently. I reached Monaco around afternoon and rested in the hotel until the meeting time. She sent the guys's profile and number so that I could contact him, if I needed to. When I opened the profile, the name read Charles Leclerc. I'd heard about him; he was a driver for Ferrari and if you base your work out of Italy it's kinda hard to miss Charles or Ferrari. I got dressed and headed to the restaurant we decided to meet at. He was already waiting for me when I got there. He waved at me as soon as we saw each other. I walked towards him and raised my hand to greet him "Hi, I'm Y/N Y/L/N, your fake girlfriend." I said. He laughed then replied, "Hi, I'm Charles Leclerc, your fake boyfriend."

We sat together and talked for a while, going through the profile our teams had sent and made a few changes that we would be letting them know off. Charles was easy to be around and fun to talk to. We had dinner together and he dropped me back to my hotel. He even offered to drive me to the airport tomorrow but I denied his request since I didn't want to ruin the plan our teams had come up with.

We were supposed to date for a year till it would clear up our names. Our meeting was supposed to happen at a race, I was flying out in 2 weeks for. I would be Ferrari's guest and then Charles and I would hit it off, immediately. We would do a few public appearances and be 'caught by paps' make it believable, a few interviews and Instagram posts and then break up with a post or story. Simple as that.

y/n.y/l/n

Liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc, 1,256,976 others

y/n.y/l/n Thank you to Ferrari for having me as a guest at todays race. I had so much fun. I would love to be back for more races.

user1 You look so pretty!!😘😘 user2 guys, everyone at the gp said that Y/N and Charles were inseparable, new couple?!🥹🥹 user3 After the whole scandal and the first post back is her at a race, who ever said she was irrelevant is actually irrelevant😭😭 user4 How are you so pretty???😍😍 user5 we love you, don't listen to the haters❤️❤️ scuderiaferrari please come back soonn. You look great in red. ti amo❤️❤️

f1gossip

Liked by 1,789 others tagged y/n.y/l/n and charles_leclerc

f1gossip Rumor has it Model Y/N Y/L/N and Scuderia Ferrari's driver Charles Leclerc are romantically involved. They were spotted in various cities across Europe in between race weeks. People say Y/N was at Charles home race too. But there were no pictures so we cannot confirm.

user6 damn you tagged them🤣🤣 user7 I can confirm she was at Charles's home race. I saw her. Both of them looked so cute tbh🥹🥹 user8 I'm happy if they are happy😭😭 user2 Idk why Charles is dating that problematic abusive woman🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️

y/n.y/l/n

Liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc and 1,279,356 others tagged charles_leclerc

y/n.y/l/n I don't think I've been this happy in a really long time. Thank you baby for loving me. Can't wait to spend all my time with you and support you in all your races!! Je t'aime, mon ange

charles_leclerc I love you too mon cherie. Can't wait to support you in all your runways either user1 my goodness, I can't breathe😭 user3 they are so cute!! the hand in his hair❤️❤️ user4 the way Charles holds her, fuck I want a man like him🥹🥹 user5 love is real it seems😪😪 bestie/user Congratulations you two!!😘😘 scuderiaferrari pretty people make prettiest couple😌😌

charles_leclerc

Liked by y/n.y/l/n, scuderiaferrari and 1,267,202 others tagged y/n.y/l/n

charles_leclerc Can't believe I get to call the prettiest girl my own!! Thank you for having me. Je t'aime cherie

y/n.y/l/n You're making me blush. I love you more Charlie. 😘😘 user6 when will it be??😭 user7 he takes the best pictures😏😏 user8 if a man don't love me like this, I don't want it😤😤 user1 I think it's time to switch social media off, couples are annoying😩 carlossainz55 Congratulations mate! So happy for you👍 scuderaferrari so pretty!! Congratulations❤️

{Reader's POV}

Going to all these places to be spotted by paparazzi or to his races meant we spent a lot of time together. It felt so nice to have someone going through a similar situation. He was so nice to me, I had so much fun just hanging out with him. He made me laugh at his stupid jokes. He got me flowers even though the dates were fake. He bought us matching watches to make it believable. Even my actual boyfriend never put this much effort.

After a race, both of us got to the hotel together. He walked me to my room; "do you wanna chill and get room service?" I asked while I unlocked my door. "sure" Charles replied with a big smile. I let him in. We sat and ordered room service and watched a movie together. I got tired mid way through the movie and ended up laying my head on his shoulder. We ended up cuddling eventually. I don't remember when I slept but I slept like a baby in Charles's arms.

After a 'date' in Milan, we were walking back to my place. I had offered him a spare room since it would be weird if he stayed at a hotel when his girlfriend had a house. We walked back holding each others hands in silence. The comfort was warm and inviting. I may have been cuddling myself to sleep in Charles's arms the whole weekend he was there but no one has to know. I didn't sleep as well alone as I did with him. So whenever we were together, he offered to be my cuddle buddy. I think I'm starting to like him; this could be bad.

When Charles won the race, he walked towards me cupping my cheeks; "can I kiss you?" he asked softly barely above a whisper. I nodded my head and then he kissed me. It wasn't in the contract, we weren't supposed to kiss but we did. It was magical and warm and sweaty. The kiss ended to quickly for my liking but the cheers were deafening. I think I'm in trouble, I think I love him.

{Reader's POV}

Our contract was up in a couple days. We haven't be seen together for a few weeks now. It's breaking me not being with him. But this was a contracted relationship to help us both. I just never felt like this with any other guy.

{Charles's POV}

Mine and Y/N's relationship was a contractual obligation. But I never realised how close we got. That kiss we shared after my race win was everything. I felt electric shock through out my body as her lips moved against mine. It was then I knew that I loved her but it probably wouldn't work out since she didn't feel the same.

f1gossip

Liked by 1,702,827 others

f1gossip Paddock's favourite couple has broken up after only 1 year. It was year ago around this time that rumours were floating that they were dating and yesterday both of them posted a story saying that they decided to break up because of work and their schedule. They said that they will continue to remain good friends.

user2 tell me this is lie😭 user3 I'm crying😭😭 user4 please get back together😤😤 user5 both of them made each other such better people🥺🥺 user6 she really deserved everything Charles gave her after her shitty ex🤧 user7 I hate life!!😓

A couple nights after the sleep over at Y/N's place with her friend; Charles showed up at her door with a big bouquet of tulips and roses. He had a huge chocolate in hand too. He was scared; his palms were sweaty and he really contemplated ringing her door bell. As if the universe was trying to get these two oblivious love birds together, Y/N opened the door with a packet of trash in her hand. "Charles" she whispered scared that he'll disappear if she said it out loud. "Hi" he greeted. "come in" she said while opening the door for him to enter. "I'll be right back" she said while walking out of the door. She disposed of the trash and came back to sit where Charles was sat in her living room. The chocolates and flowers still in hand. He stood up as soon as she entered. "For you" he said while thrusting them in her hands. She took the flowers and sniffed them, a small smile on her lips. "What are you doing here, so late?" she asked. "Ilikeyoulikealotandican'tlivewithoutyou" he blurted out. "Charlie, you're gonna have to say it slowly for me to understand" she said while placing the flowers and chocolate down to stand in front of him. He huffed out before speaking, "I think I like you. After we stopped seeing each other I couldn't imagine my life without you. I don't know when you became so important to me but I need you in my life" he said. She had tears in her eyes, she leapt forward and wrapped her arms around him; "I think I like you too Charlie, I couldn't sleep without, i couldn't eat. I knew I loved you when I was able to fall asleep in your arms. I'm so happy you feel the same" she whispered into his neck. Charles wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. "I love you too mon cherie." he said while pulling away to look at her, "Will you be my girlfriend for real this time?" he asked looking into her eyes. "Yes" she nodded while pressing her lips against his.

f1gossip

Liked by 258,972 others

f1gossip Charles's ex Y/N was spotted at the launch of his new ice cream Lec with his brother Arthur. They were seen holding hands and kissing each other. I think it's safe to say that the paddock couple is back together.

user8 my prayers have been answered🙏 user1 I can sleep peacefully knowing that they are together again🤧 user2 Mom and Dad are back!!!😌 user3 I love that for them!! They deserve each other🥹 user4 they deserve all the happiness❤️❤️ user5 I hope they never break up😭

[jlheon]

𝓑𝐔𝐁𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌 ୨୧ 𝐋𝐇𝐒

(𝓹airing) — lhs x fmr ꣑୧ 𝓸ne-sided enemies to lovers ; fluff & kissing (𝔀ordcount) one-thousand one-hundred thirty 𝓹eng's note. flirty hee i collapsed! can’t tell if this is e2l but we ball! 𝓫ookshelf

𝓼ynopsis. you give heeseung detention once again for his habit of loudly chewing gum

every time you write up lee heeseung for detention you lose a year off your lifespan.

“detention,” you roll your eyes as you slip the bright red piece of paper to the boy sitting at his desk on his phone.

“again!” heeseung sarcastically cries, taking one glance at the slip and pushing it back to you. “will you be the one supervising?”

“unfortunately,” you sigh, shoving the paper more aggressively at him, hoping it’s more effective. “you better show up this time.”

“last time it was your annoying vice president watching over,” he replies. “if you’re there i’ll be there too princess,” heeseung winks.

you think it’s unfortunate how lee heeseung has one of the prettiest faces you’ve ever laid eyes on.

he obnoxiously chews gum during class even though it is strictly against school policy with that stupidly pretty smirk adorning his even prettier face.

girls left and right whining over the fact he never looks their way makes your blood boil for an ‘unknown’ reason. you pass it off as being annoyed that they even like the boy despite his actions, but maybe you feel bitter about the fact the only time lee heeseung looks your way is to blow a bubble of gum in your face to piss you off.

at the end of the week, lee heeseung managed to garner three detention slips.

meaning you’ll have to spend three hours on friday alone with him in a classroom making sure he does absolutely nothing.

detention was one of your least favorite things about being student council president.

yes, you are so grateful to be in such a high position in student government but sometimes giving up your friday afternoons to supervise your troubled peers is a bit tiresome.

today, it’s your week, and to your luck, the only person listed for detention on your clipboard when you walk into the vacant classroom is none other than lee heeseung.

“there’s my favorite girl!” heeseung struts into the room with his freakishly empty backpack and headphones hanging loosely around his neck. it amazes you every year how he moves up each grade despite never having any supplies nor assignments on him. “i was going to skip but then i saw your pretty pink skirt from the hallway.”

“sit down lee,” you say sternly, sitting down at the teacher’s desk.

“anything for you angel,” heeseung smirks as he takes the chair from the nearest desk and places it next to yours.

“at a desk,” you scoot your chair as far as possible until it collides with the wall.

“come on baby,” heeseung whines. “it’s just me and you.”

“it’s protocol,” you try again, hoping to get your point across.

“loosen up a little princess,” he says while moving his chair closer to yours as much as possible, the proximity making your cheeks heat up an embarrassing amount.

“i’m doing my job heeseung,” you frown, crossing your arms. he thinks you're adorable.

“you’re doing good just sitting and looking so pretty,” heeseung teases. “were you thinking about seeing me in detention while getting dressed today?”

“shut up,” you huff, facing your body toward the wall while unlocking your phone.

in your peripheral vision, you see him putting his headphones on and grabbing his phone from his pocket. you’re already letting him sit next to you so you must reinforce the strict no-phone policy for your pride and to cancel out your wrongdoings.

“give me those,” you say as you remove his headphones and snatch his phone.

“you’re so strict,” heeseung rolls his eyes, slouching in his chair, and accepting the boredom about to take over him for the next three hours.

unless…

“why do you always write me up?” he breaks the silence.

you ignore him.

“other people chew gum all the time,” heeseung tries again. “so why is it a problem when i do it?”

“maybe because you chew so loud,” you finally reply, back still facing him. 

your answer does not satisfy him. he decides to push your buttons more and pulls out an empty gum wrapper from the pocket of his jeans and starts loudly fiddling with it. hoping to simulate him putting a piece of gum in his mouth.

your ears are quick to pick up the familiar sound and you turn around in your chair.

“are you seriously having gum right now?” you ask annoyed, facing him completely. “i’m going to write you up again!”

“i’m not,” heeseung smiles teasingly.

“you’re a shit liar,” you say as you move to stand up.

“why don’t you come here and check for yourself,” heeseung pats his lap.

“i’m not sitting on your-” is all you manage to get out before he pulls you to rest on top of him.

“see,” heeseung opens his mouth, letting you see the emptiness with your own eyes.

after, you can’t help but stare at his lips after his mouth is shut again. your stares are obvious but you are somehow lost in a trance.

his arm wraps around your waist, the tips of his fingers ever so slightly brushing your bare skin that your shirt doesn’t cover.

heeseung brings his free hand behind your head and slowly brings your face towards his as he leans in impossibly close.

“i’m going to kiss you,” he whispers, looking for any signs of discomfort from your end.

you stare at him like a deer in headlights once you finally break out of your trance. taking a second to register his words before shyly nodding your head.

heeseung’s lips finally touch yours and he thinks detention with you has never been more worth it.

the softness of your lip gloss-coated lips against his slightly chapped ones is addicting for him.

when you push against his shoulder for air you can’t help the flustered expression that washed across your face. his lips now adorn a pinkish hue from your lip combo, the shades of your lips now matching.

embarrassed by how easily you gave in, you lean down to bury your head in the crook of his neck, making him let out a chuckle.

“let me take you out on a date?” heeseung asks confidently, hands rubbing your sides softly.

“please,” you say quietly into his neck, still in disbelief about the kiss.

“how much longer do we have left?”

you reach for your phone and see that only thirty minutes has passed since heeseung arrived. you’re not sure whether to be thrilled to have more time with him or sad that you still have two and a half hours to kill.

“two and a half hours,” you tell heeseung, setting your phone aside again.

“great,” heeseung grins.

“great?” you ask confused, he between the both of you should be the one wanting to get the hell out of here more.

“i have two and a half more hours to kiss you.”

[fingertipsmp3]

Okay lads, I need a prayer circle or possibly witchcraft or something. I have a job interview on Wednesday and not to be dramatic or anything but if I don’t get it I’m going to make it everyone’s problem

[taexual]

sleepwalking ● 1 | jjk

summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers / fluff / angst / smut (in later chapters)

warnings: explicit language, suggestive themes, SLOW BURN

words: 7.5k

chapter 1 ► when i open my eyes to the future, i can hear you say my name

There was virtually not a single person left on the entire fourth floor of the company building, despite it being a Monday afternoon. Normally, two other managers worked in offices adjacent to yours, so the noise in the hallways never settled below a pleasant hum: producers, promoters, and publicists – the three cursed Ps – shuffled in and out, heels clicking urgently against the marble floor.

This funeral silence was unusual, but you knew it was only a calm before the storm.

Rated Riot were going on their first-ever European tour in two days to promote their sophomore album – named aptly, “ready, set, RIOT” – and today was the final day of meetings. Evidently, the executives at Jett Records assumed that the band deserved to have a whole floor to themselves, so everyone else got a half-day, leaving you and the Floor Administrator, Rue, all by yourselves until the band got here.

This unsettling silence was exactly why you heard them arrive as soon as the door of the building opened four floors below. Rated Riot lived up to their name by making themselves heard before they were seen.

As soon as the sharp ding! of the elevator reached you in your office—your door was always open on meeting days, because the four members of one of the most promising rock bands in the world at the moment lacked any sense of direction—you could immediately feel the atmosphere lighten, the previous silence long gone.

“Rue! The apple of my eye!” Hoseok, the drummer and the de facto mood setter of Rated Riot, exclaimed as you listened to the familiar sounds of the band as they exited the elevator and, based on the repeated clicking of shoes in the lobby, momentarily got disoriented.

“Always looking good, Rue!” Jungkook, the vocalist, as well as the new Golden Boy of Jett Records followed after.

“Good to see you again,” Taehyung, the always well-mannered bassist, said. Silence followed and you assumed he shook Rue’s hand.

“Hello,” Yoongi, who was, technically, the guitarist of the band, but, really, played any instrument he could get his hands on, was the last to speak. He’d always been very well-spoken in songwriting, but quieter and more careful in most everyday conversations.

“Welcome, guys,” Rue greeted them. You couldn’t see any of them from where your office was located, but you’ve been in a similar situation countless times before and you could imagine what was happening without needing to witness it first-hand.

Rue would stand up from her seat and point her right hand down the hallway, reminding them—yet again—that they needed to walk down the hall and take a right turn. The members of Rated Riot, in turn, would walk down the hall. At least one of the four of them would turn left instead, causing a pause as the group gathered back together, exchanging confused glances. Then, they would turn back to Rue—who would still be standing there, her right hand extended like a helpful Statue of Liberty. They’d laugh at themselves, nod at Rue, and take the correct turn.

If things were going well, they’d find your office on first try—they’d just need to find the open door and peer inside; your desk was right in front. More often than not, however, they stumbled around, knocking and chuckling to themselves as they continuously interrupted the offices of everyone else, but you.

They were special. Not just because they looked like loose ducklings, separated from the Mother Duck, whenever they entered the company building, but also because, in spite of their own lack of coordination, they still managed to get things done.

And they brightened the day of everyone they came across. Which was almost ironic—as you realised by watching the four of them enter your office—considering the effortless rockstar aura that surrounded them.

Jungkook walked in first. That was typical because he usually did: sometimes because he was the only one who remembered where your office was, but usually because the other members offered him as a sacrificial lamb when they went knocking around every office on the floor in search of yours.

He was dressed in all-black—always—adorned with silver chains and necklaces that often gave you a start when you looked up, because he had a very specific way of entering the room: he seemed to make sure to position himself in just a way that the light, coming in from the window behind you, always reflected off his jewellery and momentarily blinded you.

Sure enough, you blinked, cringing into yourself as the brightness hit your eyes, and when you opened them again, he was already grinning.

“Hi,” he said and the rest of the members followed in after him—a brighter palette of colours.

Even Yoongi, who was the only one who could have given Jungkook a run for his money if you had to count which one had more black items of clothing in their closet, was wearing a beige, loosely buttoned shirt.

Despite that, however, you could tell they were rock artists as soon as you looked at them—all tattoos, piercings, intense eye make-up behind sunglasses, and old band tees—and you stood up, excited to let them know that, finally, every last loose thread had been found and tightened. They’d get to introduce their artistry on a different continent, and you’d make sure it’d go smoothly.

“We’re leaving for Prague tomorrow morning,” you told them once the five of you settled down at the round table in the back of your office. “So, if you were planning a going away party, I strongly advise against it.”

“We weren’t,” Yoongi said, lifting his glass of lemon water—there was a jug on the table—and giving you a reassuring look. “This is the strongest drink I’m having tonight.”

“Thanks,” you said paradoxically enough, but being grateful when the members of the band you managed didn’t get drunk before an important day was part of the job. “I’d also appreciate it if—”

“Hold on a second, though,” Jungkook interrupted—you’d been anticipating it. “I’m going to a gig tonight, Reconnaissance are in town again. And there’s obviously an after-party—”

Despite Reconnaissance being, arguably, one of the most popular rock bands in the world right now, you were definite when you cut him off, “No.”

“—so, I—wait. No?” he paused. “I never miss their shows, you know that. And I don’t get drunk easily. You know that, too.”

“That’s why you drink so much,” you rebutted. The rest of the band members got their phones out, knowing well enough at this point that this would take a while. “And then I have to come get you out of trouble.”

“You absolutely do not have to do that,” Jungkook insisted. “We’ve been through this.”

“Have we?” you argued. “Because I keep telling you it’s my job to keep you from passing out in a dirty bar bathroom, but you don’t care enough to hear me.”

“Well, you’re not very convincing. What’s the worst that can happen? I’ll wake up again.”

You were used to having this conversation with him—you’ve argued about this way before he became a singer and you ended up as his manager. And yet, the lax way he said this made you clench your fists.

Despite being mostly introverted, Jungkook did enjoy getting drinks with friends: even if said friends enjoyed his celebrity status more than they enjoyed the drinks.

“And if you don’t?” you threatened. “Rated Riot’s vocalist gets his stomach pumped. A catchy headline.”

“Yeah, man,” Hoseok interjected, putting his phone screen down on the table and crossing his arms. “Doesn’t go well with the vibe we’re going for. Don’t get your stomach pumped.”

“Fine, I—”

“What he meant was, don’t drink so much that you’d need your stomach pumped,” you clarified because Jungkook moonlighted as a Loophole Finder.

“I never have!” he insisted. “Seriously, you treat me like I’m still nineteen. Have some faith.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the other members of the group look up from their phones. The band had only formed a few years ago, so you were the only person in this room who knew what Jungkook was like when he was nineteen. You never spoke about it – that was likely why everyone was so curious.

In any case, Jungkook was wrong. You did have faith—that’s why you spent so many of your off-duty nights driving down deserted streets to pick him up after his asshole friends convinced him it was a good idea to try the biker bar on the outskirts of town, and he’d gotten in an altercation with a burly redneck that was twice his size.

There was no time for that now, not when he was supposed to be on stage in Prague in three days.

“Well,” Taehyung spoke up. “I was thinking of going to the show as well. Not so much the after-party, I have better plans. But, uh, I could come, after all.”

You appreciated the offer, but you knew that these better plans involved him spending time with his girlfriend, Luna, who was going to join him for a few weeks of the European tour, but after that, the two of them were going to be apart for several months.

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” you said, not trying very much to hide the hopeful undertones in your voice. Jungkook’s friends felt intimidated by all the members of Rated Riot; they’d be on their best behaviour if Taehyung was there.

“No, I think it might be fun,” Taehyung said. You exhaled quietly and he could sense your gratitude without words. He turned to his younger bandmate. “Should we go together?”

Jungkook groaned and mumbled under his breath, “not if I have to third-wheel again.”

“When have you ever third-wheeled anyone?” you asked rhetorically, but he was already opening his mouth to reply. Quickly, you added, “be careful, is what I’m saying, okay? I am complaining about having to pick you up from all kinds of holes, but if you need me to bring NDAs, I will bring them. So, ask.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, but chose to stay quiet. He knew better now – the one time he did not make anyone sign a non-disclosure agreement after an impromptu, drunken busking session in New York, pictures of him, half-dressed and giving a lap dance to a random, equally as drunk, groupie, were on every rock page on Instagram. Accompanied with detailed retellings of how it came to happen, of course; all of them more ridiculous than the next. Your personal favourite story was that he was recruiting members for a sex cult.

“We’ll call you,” Taehyung gave you a nod, “if we have to.”

“Perfect,” you said, glancing at Jungkook again, even though expecting him to confirm that he, too, would call you if he had to, was wishful thinking.

Every time you reminded him how he needed to start going out with a less destructive crowd, he’d treat his phone like a poisonous snake – and he’d been doing that even before you became his manager. His friends seemed to get their pleasure fix from watching you arrive and rip him a new one, so they were the ones who called you most of the time, always laughing into their phones like true accomplices.

It was funny how Jungkook was the only one who passed out or got so wasted, he ended up on a ferry to Martha’s Vineyard. His friends always walked away unscathed and, usually, only called you by the time they were back in their bedrooms – “when we left, he was ordering mint and honey daiquiris, you should probably go over there and check up on him.”

It was like they loved pushing him into danger and purposefully bringing the two of you together again, and Jungkook either didn’t realise or didn’t care anymore. It’s been a while, after all.

You and Jungkook had been broken up for almost two years when you got the unbelievable offer to manage an up-and-coming rock band. This was over two years ago now and you were only twenty-four back then. Up until that point, you had worked as an assistant manager for various indie artists, so that offer was massive.

You figured the downside that your ex-boyfriend happened to be in this particular band was worth it, considering the huge leap in your career you’d make by accepting this job.

And, for the most part (excluding the first two months that were pure chaos of repressed feelings), you and Jungkook both made this work, drawing a strict line between your relationship before Rated Riot (back when he still had your phone number saved as “❌”) and after he met you again as Rated Riot’s new manager (ironically, now your name on his phone was “❌❌❌”).

You’ve managed Rated Riot for almost exactly two years now, and if you’d asked the band – which you wouldn’t, partially out of humbleness, but also because you were scared – you’d know that they loved working with you as much as you loved working with them. So, in the end, it all really had been worth it.

“Check your emails for the descriptive itineraries,” you continued smoothly enough. The guys at the table put their phones down and returned their attention to you. “Now, who else is coming with us?”

Technically, the band wasn’t supposed to bring anyone – the label was explicitly clear about that. They wanted the first European tour to go “without a hitch” (meaning, without distractions), but you held a more liberal view here.

You didn’t think loved ones coming on the road were a distraction; if anything, they were a firm support mechanism that made touring easier for the artists.

“I know Luna’s staying until the Barcelona show, yeah?” you asked, double-checking the notes on your laptop.

Taehyung nodded, a small smile on his lips at the mention of the girl. “She flies out the next day, yeah.”

“Okay. Who else?”

“Well, Sid and Jude are coming,” Jungkook spoke up and, after seeing your eyes roll back, added, quieter, “and Minjun isn’t sure.”

The three musketeer-wannabes – Sid, Jude, and Minjun – were on speed dial on your work and personal phones, because if Rated Riot had a performance and the vocalist wasn’t there, it was likely those three who were to blame. They were the only ones who knew Jungkook longer than you did, and they seemed to take pride in the fact that they had successfully been causing you headaches for seven years now.

“Sid and Jude,” you repeated, “aren’t worried they’ll lose their jobs if they travel to Europe abruptly?”

“No, they’re cool,” Jungkook shrugged, not catching the mockery in your voice—both Sid and Jude worked for their families, which really meant that they got paid to occasionally show up at the shareholders’ meetings on behalf of their parents. “I’ll text Minjun right now. Maybe he’ll come when we’re in Poland…”

“I needed confirmation by last week,” you reminded him. “At the latest.”

He glanced at you from his phone and then went back to texting. “So, why’d you ask now?”

“To double-check,” you said. “They’re going to have to book the hotels themselves. Or sleep on the street. Honestly, I don’t really—”

“So, uh,” Yoongi interrupted before another argument could begin, “how many hotels this time?”

“Prague, Amsterdam, and Paris. And some nights in London, depending on our flight time,” you said with an apologetic smile. “Bring your favourite blankets. We’re living on buses for the next three months.”

None of them minded – if anything, you could see a little glitter in their eyes as they listened to you. Being on the road and having to sleep on the tour bus every night was an experience they’d missed. They hadn’t gone on an actual tour in almost a year – as someone who thrived on live performances, they had obviously missed this.

Really, you’ve missed it, too. Rated Riot may have been a riot to look after as their manager – pun fully intended – especially on tour, but they were your riot to deal with.

You liked your job and the challenges that came with it, because, in the end, you overcame most of them: starting with your previous relationship with Jungkook (no one in the band had a problem with it, and the label miraculously seemed not to know about it) and ending with your relatively young age (Jungkook was the only one who had a problem with you being his age, but he had a problem with almost everything).

Hopefully, one day you’d manage to overcome the challenge that was getting Jungkook to open his eyes and realise that the people he surrounded himself with were more groupies than his friends. But all in due time.

“If you have questions,” you said as the meeting approached its’ conclusion, “go right ahead.”

“Wake-up calls,” Yoongi said. “Any possibility of arranging those?”

You smiled – this had been traditional practice ever since you started to work with them.

“I’ll call,” you said and then remembered a particularly frustrating way in which this had backfired. You added, “and keep you on the phone until you’re out of bed.”

Back when you were an assistant manager to a different band, this had been your main task. And, you supposed, if Rated Riot had assistant managers, they’d be the ones making wake-up calls, too – however, the band had only started to live up to their potential now. Before you booked the European tour for them, Jett Records thought they barely needed one manager to begin with.

You’ve made it this far. If the tour went well, maybe you’d get to expand your team as the band gained popularity.

Jungkook felt giddy the whole night. The Reconnaissance show with Taehyung and Luna was a lot of fun, as expected—he’d seen the band five times before tonight, and they never failed to let him down.

When he arrived at the after-party, he was nearly vibrating with excitement—on top of everything, he was going on tour tomorrow and he knew he might lose his mind over it—and this was usually the time when he tended to get reckless.

He did drink a little too much to retain a completely sober mind, but he stayed true to his word and did not wander anywhere or caused any—serious—trouble. You would have said that’s because Sid and Jude weren’t with him, but Jungkook was convinced it was because he simply had great self-control when he put his mind to it.

The only place he went to after the party was his family’s house, so he could say goodbye to his grandma. She probably wouldn’t even hear him—and if she would, then she probably wouldn’t recognise him—but he couldn’t leave to Europe without saying goodbye to her.

He thought he’d take his Katana to the house, but then remembered immediately the last time he got on his motorcycle drunk – his grandma had, literally, smacked him on the back with a rolling pin, yelling about how careless he was. She didn’t say that she hit him out of concern for his safety—that was obvious—and, instead, she focused on how hard he’d worked on restoring the bike after he’d bought it; his first purchase with the money that he made off Rated Riot’s music.

“Don’t you want it to last?” she had said then. She’d been the only person who believed he could bring the bike to life, despite it not having a single properly functioning part, least of all the engine. “You worked so hard on it. Do you want to wreck it in one night?”

Tonight, however, everyone in the house was asleep when he arrived. It was quiet, so he tried to be silent as he went up the stairs to her room—and then knocked over a picture frame after his feet fumbled on the carpet in the hallway. But no one went out to check who was making the noise—which was dangerous, he realised for a brief, semi-sober second; but the house had security, so he figured they were safe from outsiders—and he gently lowered the handle on his grandma’s door, peering inside.

The room was painted in blue hues from the night light next to the bed where his grandma was sleeping. He approached—really trying to be quiet this time—and carefully pulled her comforter up, so she wouldn’t get cold, even though the room felt warm.

It was always warm here and Jungkook had to bite his lip when he realised how much he missed sitting here as a child while dozens of his cousins ran around the house and wreaked loud, childish havoc. How much he missed his grandma reading him books—never children’s stories, he always insisted she read him the thickest, most boring books he could find on her shelves, just so he could stay in her room longer, listening to her soothing voice and feeling her comforting warmth.

Sniffling quietly, he leaned closer to her and brushed a strand of white hair from her face, listening to her soft breathing as she slept, unaware of his presence.

“I’ll be back soon,” he promised in a whisper as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. She didn’t wake. “We will talk again then.”

He knew he’d keep this promise even if she didn’t hear it, even if she didn’t remember. But leaving her room felt painful and he was far less excited now. The alcohol had begun to wear off and heaviness settled in his chest instead. This happened sometimes when he was left alone with his thoughts, especially after he visited his grandma.

He'd come back, he knew he would. But as he glanced at his grandma’s sleeping frame one more time—remembering how she hadn’t called him by his name in months; not one glint of recognition in her eyes when she’d see him—he wondered if he’d have anyone to come back to.

Surprising exactly no one, Jungkook was the only one who did not answer your wake-up call the next morning. Having foreseen this, you’d already called Hoseok, Yoongi and Taehyung – in that order, because the first two took the longest to wake up, and by that time, Taehyung was already awake on his own – and only then attempted to reach the one remaining member.

Fifteen minutes later, you were already dressed and ready to drive over to his house and personally wake him up with an icy bath in bed. And just then, your phone rang – his name as the caller’s ID.

“Look who—”

“Okay, okay,” Jungkook’s groggy voice cut you off before you could greet him with the appropriate sarcastic remark. “I’m awake. Halfway in the shower.”

“I don’t hear running water.”

He responded with a groan first, then shuffling. You waited patiently, balancing the phone on your shoulder as you unlocked the door of your apartment. Finally, you could hear the water start running on the other end of the call.

“Happy?” Jungkook asked, always the brightest of all rays of sunshine in the morning.

“Ecstatic,” you replied, equally as enthusiastically. “Sending a car to pick you up in half an hour. Don’t be late.”

“I can drive myself—”

“No driving when you’re hungover,” you said, not for the first time. “In fact, don’t even go near your Katana.”

He considered several ways to respond to you; first and foremost, defending his beloved, navy-coloured Suzuki Katana with a matte coating, custom-made leather seat covers, golden rims, purring engine, and—anyway. He ended up choosing to respond with a question, “how do you know I’m hungover?”

“I’ve known you for almost ten years,” you replied. “If you go out drinking the night before, you’ll wake up hungover.”

“Well, how do you know I drank that much last ni—?”

“Listen,” you cut him off, hoisting your suitcases over the threshold of your front door. You fixed your phone against your cheek and continued, “how about you take that shower, and we’ll resume this nice little Q&A at the airport?”

“No,” he replied and, in a purposefully exaggerated breathy voice said, “I simply can’t stop talking to you.”

“Hanging up now.”

Jungkook laughed as he listened to the beep, indicating the end of the call. Putting his phone on the side of the sink, he took his shirt off and was about to continue undressing when his phone vibrated and nearly fell off the sink.

Scrambling to catch it, he smacked it against the cupboard and exhaled in relief when he saw that the screen hadn’t cracked. He was expecting a text from you – a threat, in case he’d go back to bed – but it was actually Sid, asking for the time of his flight.

His friends were taking a separate flight out to Prague – they weren’t happy about it and neither was he, but at least they’d get to hang out in Europe eventually – and, obviously, they wanted to know what time they’d meet up and where.

He double-checked the itinerary you’d emailed him, got confused about the time zone difference and texted Sid back.

“Gonna be there the day before the show,” his text said, “jetlag. Sleep. Maybe beer? Catch u there.”

Sid was, of course, delighted to hear the mention of beer and Jungkook snickered to himself before he resumed undressing for his shower—knowing from experience that you wouldn’t be above shipping him to Prague in the cargo section on the plane if he was late to the airport.

As it turned out, for the first time in his life, Jungkook was so terribly jet-lagged, that he did not feel like doing anything – not even drinking with friends – but sleeping.

He slept through the whole layover in Paris – and, consequently, through Taehyung and Luna’s stories about the 5 minutes they got to spend in front of the Eiffel Tower before rushing back to the airport (never mind that it was about 2 AM) – as well as the flight to Prague.

He only woke up on the bus ride to the hotel when he felt something nudging his lips and opened his eyes to find an open bottle of Coca-Cola in your hands as you held it by his face.

“Did you just—” he started to say, but his voice sounded brittle, more a croak than a voice, really. He cleared his throat and tried again, “did you just wake me up by making me sniff soda?”

“It worked,” you replied, nudging the bottle at him again. “Drink. You need sugar. You didn’t eat anything on the plane here.”

“I had that bagel on the flight to Paris,” he mumbled, but sat up properly and took the bottle from you.

“That was a croissant,” you clarified. It was almost cute to see him barely awake. “And I warned you about flying with a hangover. You did this to yourself.”

“I’m fine,” he replied after taking a big gulp of coke. “Not sure which day it is, but other than that, I’m perfect. Do you have anything for headaches?”

Snickering, you nodded. “Yeah, give me a second.”

You went to fetch your carry-on bag and returned with ibuprofen, which allowed him to go back to sleep until you arrived at the hotel. The other members were also in and out of slumber, but that was their own fault. You and the other girls on this tour, which, really, only meant Luna— Taehyung’s girlfriend—and Maggie—the tour photographer—had planned ahead and taken sleeping pills as soon as the plane took off. Meanwhile, every man on this trip thought too much of himself.

By the time you arrived to the hotel and checked in, it was already lunchtime. If this had been your first time travelling with Rated Riot, you would have been beyond surprised to see what effect food had on them: they looked like they'd just returned from the most refreshing vacation in the Caribbean. Lively conversation and cheerful laughter echoed around the table – no one would have guessed that they’d just spent over 13 hours on airplanes. Their recovery was nearly always miraculous.

And, naturally, since they were feeling better, they wanted to do something as soon as the first rehearsal was over. You had far too many things to do before the show tomorrow, so you couldn’t babysit them – again, an assistant manager would have been life-saving – but you knew you’d still have to keep an eye on them.

Taehyung and Luna went sightseeing, but they were the sort who kept you updated on their adventures through pictures, which you were endlessly grateful for. There was never a reason to worry here; if you were a teacher who had to pretend not to have a favourite student, Taehyung would be the student you were pretending about.

Yoongi and Hoseok, initially, went to a record store together, but then split up – one of them returned to the hotel for a nap, and the other one went café-hopping. Those two were also fine – they usually took some members of the crew with them anyway, so you knew that in the worst-case scenario, you’d still have several people you could call to reach them.

Now Jungkook was going to meet up with Sid and Jude, both of whom had, most unfortunately, successfully landed in Prague. The Diabolical Duo would take him out drinking, you had no doubt about it – and this was where you’d have to step in with another warning. You weren’t the angry mother, dragging her children by their ears, but you felt it necessary to remind Jungkook of what was at stake if he allowed his friends to be their usual, obnoxious selves tonight.

However, you didn’t want to ask, so you had to figure out where to find them yourself. You didn’t even have to use the seven years that you’ve known them to deduce two logical, universal-for-all-assholes things: one, Jungkook’s friends wouldn’t be nearly tired enough not to want to drink. Two, they’d be too jet-lagged to look for their usual hole-in-the-wall spot that sold drinks. Therefore, they’d have to settle for the bar of the hotel.

And when you exited the elevator on the ground floor later that night, your assumption was confirmed – you could hear their laughter from where you were standing in the lobby.

You’d texted Jungkook as you arrived, hoping he’d leave his friends and come see you at the back of the bar for a minute, but unfortunately, Sid and Jude noticed you and waved you over with loud cheers.

Embarrassed as the people in booths around you began to turn to look, you swallowed and walked towards the front where Jungkook and his friends were sitting by the bar.

“Wow, it’s been so long!” Jude exclaimed as you approached. In your opinion, it wasn’t nearly long enough, but you only lifted the corners of your lips and did not comment.

“Jungkook, a moment?” you said instead.

“Let’s get you a drink!” Sid suggested as though you hadn’t spoken and extended a hand, clicking his fingers to get the bartender’s attention. “Hey! Can we get some Margaritas here?”

You cringed watching this, but, again, restrained yourself. They could behave like pricks all they wanted; it wasn’t their reputation that you had to protect. Someone else would, hopefully, teach them a lesson.

“Sure,” Jungkook said to you, sliding off the stool. He seemed sober enough to walk without any sort of waddling or stand without swaying, but you could tell by the relaxation behind his eyes, that he was already tipsy.

His friends patted him on the back and whistled as he followed you to a quieter spot in the back of the bar. He shook his head at them—but had a grin on his face, and for that alone you wanted to punch him.

“Can I count on you to take it easy?” you asked, once the two of you were out of earshot. “Not because you’ll make my job much harder if you don’t, but because you have a rehearsal tomorrow at eight, and that’s hard with the jet lag alone, but add a hangover into the mix, and—”

“I’ll be fine,” he said, but you’ve heard this song many times before. It was one of his top hits. “I’m actually tired, so I might have a few and then go straight to bed.”

“Okay,” you said, choosing to believe him, because that was easier than making him sign a contract, swearing not to wake up in a dumpster. “Can you text me when you’re back in your room? So I know you’re not lost somewhere in Prague with Dumb and Dumber.”

His lip twitched in an almost-smile at the nickname, but he resisted – a loyal friend, even if they didn’t deserve it – and gave you a nod.

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll text you. And I won’t get lost.”

“Okay—” you started to say and then squinted your eyes at him, realizing. “I meant don’t go wandering the city streets while drunk.”

He snorted and placed a hand on your left shoulder. Gazing into your eyes, he enunciated very dramatically, “I will not get into trouble. Promise.”

You pursed your lips. “You’d better not.”

“I realise what that would mean, believe it or not,” he said, straightening. “Tomorrow is an important day. I’d never do anything to ruin it.”

“I know,” you said. “I trust you to make smart choices. I don’t trust them.”

You pointed at the twosome by the bar – both of them watching you like you were the entertainment of the night – and Jungkook turned to look. Sid and Jude both immediately waved at him. Jungkook waved back and, when he looked at you again, he was smiling softly.

Clearly, he genuinely enjoyed hanging out with those two. You’d never believe that there was anything about them that was bearable—let alone enjoyable—so Jungkook’s weird attachment to them had to come from some sort of weird destructive force inside of him.

“I’ll keep them in check,” he said and then, possibly prompted by the skeptical frown on your face, he felt the need to explain, “they help me relax. If it weren’t for them, I’d probably be shaking from anxiety all the time. Kind of like you are.”

He winked as he said that last part, grinning at his own wit, but you rolled your eyes in response.

“Goodnight,” you said then. “Don’t forget to text me.”

“Are you going to stay up late waiting for my text?” his tone was humorous and it stopped you from leaving.

“Hopefully not,” you said, ignoring the flirty comment that was obviously meant to rattle your composure. “But it’d do you well to remember that I can make life very difficult for you if you disobey me.”

He lifted his eyebrows at this, but did not lose the grin. “Oh? Will I get punished if I—”

“Goodnight, Jungkook,” you said again—louder—and turned away.

You glanced over your shoulder when you reached the archway leading to the lobby and caught him watching you leave—he was still beaming, but he composed himself and nodded when he caught your eye. You nodded back.

Maybe he really would be fine tonight.

And, truly, Jungkook had meant what he’d said – he couldn’t wait for tomorrow and there was nothing he’d do to ruin that. Not even if the smirking faces of his friends prompted him to laugh as soon as he returned to his seat by the bar.

“What do you want, assholes?” he asked, punching Jude on the shoulder as he walked past his friends. As soon as he sat down, leaving Sid in the middle, he took a big gulp of the beer he’d left waiting; only his third one tonight.

“We don’t want anything,” Jude said, still smirking. “What did she want? Another moral how you’re not being a good boy?”

Jungkook rolled his eyes. “No—”

“I was always curious,” Sid interrupted. “Was she like that when you dated, too? You know, always in charge?”

Even before you and Jungkook had settled into a steady enough rhythm of working with each other, neither of you spoke to others about your relationship. Not while you were dating, and not after you broke up. So, all your friends—real friends and whoever the hell Sid and Jude were—essentially knew nothing of your relationship.

And there was nothing he’d tell them now.

It’s been four years since you broke up—plenty of time to move on. Not to mention, you were both (trying to be) professionals. There was no point to bring back the past; there never had been.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Jungkook teased, managing to keep the banter going without revealing how the question irked something inside him.

“I would. That’s why I asked,” Sid replied, laughing haughtily. A few heads turned his way. Sid sounded very much like an entitled heir—or an elephant high on helium—when he laughed, especially when there was nothing funny going on. “I mean, you never talked about her to us. Was it getting rid of her that made you who you are today?”

Jude snorted, slapping Sid on the back in a half-supportive, half-warning manner. Jungkook knew that the level of your patience for his friends ranged from Sid (no patience) to Jude (case-by-case), to Minjun (bearable)—and he could see why.

“I didn’t get rid of her,” he said, an edge to his voice. “We broke up and moved on. Did you hear from Minjun?”

Sid laughed again—even louder than before; the glasses behind the bar seemed to clatter.

“Look at him, trying to change the topic!” he wheezed, looking at Jude over his shoulder.

“Leave him be, man,” Jude said and nodded at Jungkook. “So many girls around us and this dumbass is still hung up on your ex, huh?”

Jungkook finished his beer and held the liquid behind his cheeks for a second before swallowing. He caught the bartender’s eye and lifted his empty glass, indicating a refill.

“I don’t think I’m the one who’s hung up,” Sid said with a very knowing look in his eye.

Jungkook looked at him and raised his eyebrows—surprised and momentarily distracted from his drink. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Well, you come to her as soon as she calls, like a puppy,” Sid replied. “So, you tell me.”

“I have to come when she calls,” Jungkook defended. “She’s my manager.”

“Yeah, dumbass,” Jude said, slapping Sid on the back of the head this time. “She’s his manager.”

Jungkook suddenly found himself smiling when he realised that you’d probably consider this the reason why Sid acted the way he did sometimes – permanent brain damage from Jude’s incessant slaps.

“Well, then someone,” Sid said, angrily accentuating the word—the anger was clearly directed at Jude, but the pronoun at Jungkook, “has a fucking crush on their manager.”

“I don’t have a crush—”

Sid spoke over him, “I bet you could never get her to go out with you again.”

Jungkook saw the bartender approach to pour him a drink and he heard Jude scoffing, but he could only blink, taken aback by what sounded like an accusation.  “Why—why would I even—why—”

“Oh, see, see?!” Sid screeched, turning to Jude with a triumphant expression. Jude gave him a pitiful look—and looked about ready to give him a black eye, too. “He knows I’m right, it’s why he’s stuttering!”

“Dude,” Jude said slowly. “You are yelling.”

Jungkook cleared his throat, nodding at the bartender as a thank-you and then bringing his refilled glass to his lips. “And I’m not stuttering.”

“You so are, my man,” Sid taunted, patting Jungkook on the shoulder with so much force, the beer nearly spilled from the glass and from his mouth. “Your ass is so whipped, you’re going to be singing at her wedding to some random producer.”

Suddenly hyper-aware that there were several producers on tour with them right now, Jungkook put his drink down and straightened in his seat.

“I’m not fucking singing at weddings,” he said.

“Not yet,” Sid pointed out, grinning. He knew he'd gotten under his skin.

“Okay, come on now,” Jude interjected, leaning back in his seat to be able to see Jungkook. “You promised you’d sing at my wedding.”

“As if anyone would ever marry you,” came Sid’s snide.

“You shut the fuck up,” Jude snarled, but there was no malice behind his bark. “I have more chances of marrying someone than he has of marrying his manager.”

“He—oh, fuck!” Sid was about to argue, but then burst into laughter—so loud and thunderous again, that the bartender was forced to glance over at the security guards by the entrance to the bar. “That’s good! You’re so right!”

“Both of you are fucking idiots,” Jungkook spoke. The edges of his vision were red. “I could get her to go out with me again if I wanted to.”

“Oh, sure, sure,” Sid nodded, wiping invisible tears from his eyes. “Big talk.”

“Jungkook, no offense, my dude,” Jude said, leaning forwards this time. “Let him have this one. Sid may be dumber than box of rocks, but he’s got a point here. Forget about her.”

Another insinuation that had Jungkook throwing his head back in frustration.

“There’s nothing to forget!” he groaned. “What the fuck are you even talking about? I just fucking told you I moved on.”

“So why are you getting all riled up, then?” Sid smirked, more and more satisfied with each curse that he provoked out of him.

Jungkook felt even angrier, because he was getting riled up, but he had a good reason for it. He enjoyed banter as much as the next person, but he did not enjoy mockery at his own expense—especially not the kind that involved you.

He snapped back, “because you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

His friends snickered at this – convinced that his irritation only proved the point they were both making – and Jungkook clenched his jaw, annoyed.

“If anything,” he added sharply as he picked his beer up—as if that could somehow distance him from this conversation, “it’s her who’s still hung up on me.”

That was a cheap, childish defence, and everyone by the bar knew it.

“Yeah, right!” Sid cried out, but resisted from laughing again. “We’ve heard her yell at you more times than we can count. You fucking wish she was still hung up on you.”

“Okay, to be fair, Sid can probably only count to five,” Jude added—Sid finally punched him on the shoulder—as he toyed with the paper umbrella on his fourth cocktail; the Margaritas they’d ordered were long gone. “But he’s right, you know? You’d never get her to go out with you again.”

There was pity in Jude’s voice—as if he felt sorry that Jungkook lived in denial, chasing after you and convincing himself that it was only a matter of time before you’d come back to him.

This made Jungkook’s temper vile, his face red, hot, and angry. He slammed his beer back on the table, forcing some of it to spill. “Yes, I fucking would!”

Sid was hiccupping as he laughed.

“Okay, okay, listen—let’s make a proper bet,” he managed. He picked up a napkin from the bar top, then looked around for something to write on it with—not finding anything, he stood up from his seat and leaned over the bar, grabbing a pen before the bartender could notice. “$1000 says you can’t get her to go on a date with you again.”

He glanced at Jude for approval—Jude shrugged.

“I’d suggest $500,” he said. “We don’t want to rob him blind.”

Jungkook’s face remained stoic, prideful.

“Fine with me. But you have no idea what you’re getting yourselves into,” he bit.

“Oh, that’s right, he’s been awfully cocky about the whole thing, hasn’t he?” Sid spoke, addressing his rhetorical question at the bar. He wrote something on the napkin and then lifted it to show the number “4000” to Jungkook. “How about this: Jude and I each pay you $2000 if you win. But if you lose, you give us your Katana.”

Jungkook lifted his eyebrows, the sudden mention of his bike catching him off-guard. Sid came from old money, he could afford fifteen brand-new motorcycles with the change he found in his suitcase, probably.

“How is that fair?” he asked. “Do you even know how much a Suzuki costs these days? It’s not $4000, I can tell you that much.”

“Why should you care?” Sid asked, his eyes glinting with mischief. “You were so confident about winning the bet just a second ago. Scared you’ll lose after all?”

In his defence, Jungkook did hesitate for half a moment. But there was a shit-eating grin on Sid’s mouth that he wanted to wipe off more than anything else, and he downed the rest of his beer in one big gulp—a showcase of his determination.

“Not at all,” he said then. He wasn’t sure if he was lying as he said this, but he had no time to figure that out. He extended his hand at Sid. “Get your money ready.”

Here, he was putting up a front – this wasn’t about the money at all. It was more a thing of pride; they were teasing him, purposefully making fun of him—and he wanted to prove them wrong, regardless if they were actually wrong.

Smirking, Sid shook his hand—cementing the bet between all three of them, as Jude was busy finishing off his cocktail—and was about to say something when Jungkook jumped off his stool.

“Have to go now,” he said, always a show-off with his overly creative comebacks when he was tipsy. “My horoscope predicts a date and a big fortune in my near future. Got to prepare.”

chapter title credits: sleep token, “rain”

special shout-out & thank you to @eleni-cherie who delivered the much-appreciated kicks in the ass, so that i would keep writing. the odds were really against me, so if it weren't for you & our in-depth fanfic discussions, i definitely wouldn't even be writing this note right now, let alone finally starting this story 💜

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[hoernypie]

Milk factory✩‧₊˚ 🐮

tags: breastfeeding, pregnancy kink, adult nursing, handjob

wc: 2260

The moment Satoru learned that you are pregnant he became thrilled. His obsession grew with your belly until it became the sole essence of his existence. He would spend his free time lost in online forums, devouring every bit of information about the pregnancy, what you felt, and how your body was changing. But in all of that, his interest was caught by one certain thing – breastfeeding. The very thought ignited a newfound kink within him. As your breasts grew bigger, Satoru's fascination with the concept of breastfeeding grew more intense. His thoughts often circled around your breasts getting big and heavy, swelling with milk. The wait was a torment for him as with passing time the anticipation was almost unbearable, filling him with an overwhelming mix of excitement and arousal.

After ensuring you were asleep, he would quietly sneak out to the bathroom, locking the door behind him. Quickly his jogs ended up sliding down, as he tightly gripped the counter with a shaky hand to support himself, his eyes closed as he pictured your enormous, full of milk breasts in his hands. His breath grew shallow as he imagined the sweet, warm liquid gushing into his mouth. His hand moved rhythmically over his erection, the pressure building with every fantasy about your body. He longed for the day when he would finally have the chance to taste your milk, almost addicted to the anticipation. His mind raced with scenarios of you in different stages of lactation, your nipples varying from engorged and leaky to soft and gently dripping white gold. Satoru's dick glistened with precum that beaded at the tip as he stroked it, feeling the intense pleasure building in him. His heavy balls tightened with every imagined drop of milk that hit his taste buds. Each stroke grew more desperate, more urgent, as he chased the climax at the mere thought of comfort that your nurturing breasts promised him. Each stroke brought him closer to the edge, his body tensing while he moaned quietly. The thoughts of being fed and comforted by you, and sharing such an intimate act with you made his heart race. And as he reached the peak of his pleasure, the image of your eyes locked onto his with that soft gaze and sweet smile, watching him drink from your body, was the final push he needed to cum into the palm of his hand.

Days turned into weeks, and Satoru's obsession with your pregnancy grew stronger with each passing moment. One afternoon, as you casually walked past the mirror, you caught a glimpse of your shirt's reflection. There were faint, wet spots that hadn't been there before. After closely inspecting the fabric your eyes widened as the realization hit you – your breasts had started leaking milk. You couldn't help but smile at the thought of Satoru's reaction after sharing the good news. Little did you know, the sight of those wet spots would be the catalyst for Satoru's most erotic and sensual fantasy yet.

In the evening you finally decided to tell Satoru the exciting news. You waited for him to come into bed, trying to contain your own excitement and amusement. When he finally got under the covers, you smiled widely "Honey," you began, "I think you're going to like what happened today." He looked at you curiously, his eyes searching yours for any clue as to what you were referring to. "The milk factory is open," you announced amused, watching as his expression shifted from confusion to elation in an instant. His eyes grew wide, and he took a deep breath, his heart racing at the revelation. "Really?" he managed to choke out, trying to keep his composure. "That's amazing!" You couldn't help but laugh at his enthusiasm. With eyes gleaming with excitement and anticipation, Satoru couldn't hold back his desperate plea. "Can I taste it?" he whispered, his voice quivering with hope to finally feel what he's been craving for so long. His gaze was fixed on your chest, the slight dampness of your shirt clearly visible under the soft glow of the bedside lamp. The long weeks of waiting had led to this moment, and his kink had grown into an all-consuming need, eating him alive. But you, delicately patted his hair, gently declining with a soft "Not yet, dear." Seeing his face fall into a pout, you couldn't help but feel a pang of amusement at his childlike behavior. "The strongest" yet, acting like a spoiled child after hearing rejection. Satoru's pout deepened, his dick getting harder and harder while it created a wet patch on his jogs. "Sweetheart please, just a taste - nothing more" he desperately pleaded.

"Not yet, my love," you repeated, your voice tender despite the firmness of your decision. "Let's wait until the baby is born. It's important that the milk is first for our little one." You leaned in to kiss his forehead, his hand absentmindedly caressing your swollen breast, feeling the firmness and fullness beneath his palm. He whined, his eyes never leaving the hypnotizing sight of your chest. "But I want to be part of this too," he murmured, his voice thick with longing. You chuckled softly, stroking his cheek. "You will be, 'toru. Just be patient. When the baby is here, you can share with it." Your words hung in the air, a promise that seemed to both soothe and frustrate him even more. He nodded reluctantly, his eyes never straying from your breasts as he snuggled to you. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, but Satoru knew that waiting would make the first taste all the more sweet. With a sigh, he nestled closer to you, his hand sliding over your belly to feel the baby's gentle kicks. For now, he would have to be content with the knowledge that soon, he would finally get to be more intimate in the act he had been dreaming about for so long. The wait would be worth it, he assured himself, as he closed his eyes and listened to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat, before slowly falling asleep.

The weeks leading up to the baby's birth were a torturous blend of excitement and frustration for Satoru. His obsession with your lactation grew more intense with each time when he delicately touched your body, and he found himself counting down the hours until he could finally taste the sweet ambrosia he had been fantasizing about for so long. His mind swirled with images of you, a glowing motherly figure, him kneeling in front of you, as he latched onto your nipple, your milk spilling out and soaking his hungry mouth, the sound of his contented slurps filling the room. The thought of your breasts, now a symbol of life itself - it all sent shivers down his spine. Each night, as you slept peacefully beside him, he could feel his control slipping, his hand occasionally straying to the wet patch on your shirt, his fingers brushing against the fabric as if trying to coax more milk out of your body. But he knew better than to push his luck, and he waited patiently, mentally getting ready for the moment the baby was born. The anticipation was agonizing, but he made sure to not do anything that would harm you or the baby.

Finally, the day arrived. The baby's cries filled the delivery room, and as the nurse placed the squirming little bundle into your arms, Satoru felt a swell of emotions, his eyes brimming with tears. He watched as you began to gently rock the baby, your face a picture of serenity and love, despite your disheveled looks - for him, you were always the most beautiful person in the whole world.

Days passed in a blur of sleepless nights and endless diaper changes, but amidst the chaos, Satoru found moments of quiet anticipation. The baby latched onto your breast with ease, and as you nurtured your little one, he couldn't help but stare at the sight before him, taking multiple pictures. Your breasts, now a source of life for the baby, were more mesmerizing and tempting than ever. Each time the baby was done feeding, Satoru would watch as your nipples remained erect, the occasional droplet of milk escaping and glistening in the soft light. His patience had reached a new peak with every passing day. He knew he had to wait, but the sight of your milk-heavy breasts was like a siren's call, pulling him closer and closer to the edge of his self-control. He would often find himself lost in thought, his hand unconsciously straying to his crotch, the fabric of his pants growing damp with his arousal. The days stretched into weeks, and as the baby grew more accustomed to the world, each time you offered your breast to the baby, he felt a pang of jealousy, pouting at the thought of what was denied to him.

Days turned into another month, and the baby had grown more accustomed to the world, its tiny hands grasping onto your breasts with surprising strength. Satoru had watched from the sidelines, his patience wearing thin, his longing becoming an unbearable ache. One quiet evening, as the baby finally fell asleep in your arms, you looked over at him with a soft smile. "You still wanna try it?" you whispered, gently guiding the baby to unlatch, gently putting it back in the crib. Satoru's eyes sparkled, his mouth watering at the sight of the tiny beads of milk that had formed around your areola.

Satoru climbed into the bed, his eyes never leaving your breasts. He positioned himself beside you, his gaze fixed on the treasure he had been longing for. His breath was shallow as he reached out, gently cupping one of your breasts, feeling soft skin in his hand. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice a mere whisper. You nodded, a gentle smile playing on your lips. His thumb traced a circle around your nipple, watching as it pebbled and leaked a single drop of milk. He leaned closer, his tongue darting out to catch it, savoring the sweet taste that had haunted his dreams for so long. With a soft sigh, he took your nipple into his mouth, sucking it gently. The sensation was breathtaking, sending waves of pleasure through his body as he tasted the sweetest thing in his life. He could feel the milk start to flow, the warm liquid filling his mouth that he swallowed greedily. Your hand found its way into his hair, guiding and encouraging him as you gently caressed his hair. This act of intimacy was something he'd never felt before.

Satoru couldn't believe the moment was finally here. He had dreamt about this so many times, but the reality was far more better than any fantasy he could think of. As he continued to suck and the taste of your milk grew stronger, his arousal reached new heights. Satoru's hand slipped into his pants, his grip tightening around his throbbing dick. He began to stroke himself, his hips buckling slightly, his body desperate for release. Each pull on your nipple sent a jolt of pleasure straight to his cock, and he knew he wouldn't last much longer. The sight of your milk trickling down his chin and wetting the sheets was too much, as Satoru stroked himself faster, his breath shallow. His eyes closed, feeling comfort in this intimate act. Your smile grew softer, your eyes filled with love as you looked down at him, whimpering and moaning against your soft flesh. You reached over, wrapping your hand over his shaft, squeezing your fingers around it as you moved your hand up and down. The room was filled with the sound of his slurps and squelches of his dick. As the pressure built up inside him, Satoru felt your hand tighten around his dick, urging him to let go. With a final, desperate moan, he did just that, his cum spurting out and landing on his stomach, dirtying his shirt. The sight was more erotic than any of us could have ever imagined.

The moment left Satoru trembling with pleasure, your milk still warm on his tongue and your gentle touch still lingered on his body. He watched as you took a soft cloth to wipe his face clean, your eyes filled with affection. His hand lingered on your breast, feeling the gentle pulse of your heartbeat beneath his fingertips. "Can I do it again?" he asked excitedly. You chuckled, leaning in to kiss him softly on the forehead. "Not now," you murmured, "And let's clean the mess that you've made, shall we?"

As the days went by, Satoru eagerly awaited his turn, his kink becoming now more of a shared intimacy between you. After the baby had its fill, you would often offer your breast to him, watching with amusement and love as he greedily suckled the excess milk with a pout on his face. His eyes would roll back with pleasure, your hand instinctively caressing his erection, the act of being nurtured by you becoming a nightly ritual that brought him closer to the brink of ecstasy.

The bond you shared had evolved, becoming something more profound than either of you had ever anticipated, weaving a tapestry of love, obsession, and kink that only served to strengthen your connection, making his love for you grow deeper with that testament of the intimacy that could only exist between you two.

Lately, I've been obsessed with @gojoest content about Satoru. I love you Ai. ┬┴┬┴┤･ω･)ﾉ

[pure-smut]

touch starved.

featuring: Sakura Haruka x f!reader

contains: sakura is a needy, subby mess in this, riding, unprotected s*x, creampie, overstimulation, implied multiple rounds, praise, begging

word count: 1.9k

note: all characters are aged up to 21+!

MDNI | 18+ content

masterlist

You and Sakura Haruka have been dating for two months and you’re starting to feel… on edge.

Not because of anything bad, of course. Sakura is a total sweetheart as a boyfriend, if not a little bashful - always walking on the curb side of the sidewalk, remembering your coffee order, sending you pictures of dogs he sees on his patrols throughout the day.

But if there’s one thing you’ve noticed, it’s that Sakura doesn’t touch you.

You kissed him on the cheek once and his head turned into a tomato. You managed to get him to hold your hand for a movie date and he blushed so hard he started sweating.

It’s cute but you’re both adults and you want something a little more. So you start to lay it on thick.

You meet Sakura for breakfast before his patrol, sitting on the same side of a booth as he scarfs down his eggs. You start light, resting your temple on his shoulder. Sakura stills for a moment before carrying on eating so you move to the next step.

This time, you slide your hand over his thigh, squeezing his leg.

Sakura nearly chokes on his breakfast, heat crawling up his neck.

“You look so handsome today, Haru,” you purr in his ear.

Sakura’s breath catches and you see his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.

“T-thanks,” he manages to stammer out before looking sideways at you with one golden eye. “You look pretty today.”

You break out in a smile, reaching up to press a kiss against his cheek. His skin is hot as you let the kiss linger slightly.

Sakura leaves for his patrol, still beet red, as you wave him off. You don’t see him again until later that afternoon, when he’s having a break with some other Bofurin members.

You greet them all warmly before standing in front of Sakura, who’s sitting half-slumped on a bench with one arm resting on the back. He’s sporting a new bandage on his forehead.

You lean forward under the guide of checking his bandage, concern on your face, and let him see deep down the neckline of your top. You know it’s worked when Sakura’s cheeks tint pink, his eyes glued to your chest.

“You get hurt again, baby?” you ask him, running your thumb down from his forehead to his jaw.

“I-It’s nothing,” he says thickly.

You plant a kiss against the bandage before moving down to press a chaste kiss against his lips. You expect him to pull away but, to your surprise, he nearly chases your lips with his own when you withdraw.

Sakura blinks a few times, blushing furiously, as you smile and tell him you’ll see him at home later.

You’re home before him, leaving you with just enough time to choose the right outfit. You settle on a short skirt – too short to wear outside your home – and low-cut top with no bra.

That should do the job.

When you open the door to Sakura, he makes a choked noise from the back of his throat. You usher him in before wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I missed you,” you tell him sweetly.

Sakura’s cheeks are beet red but he reciprocates your hug, snaking his arms around your waist to pull you flush to him.

God, you look incredible. The very picture of sin. Sakura’s normally tripping over his words, not used to being treated with kindness or soft touches, but it’s quickly overtaken by a visceral need.

Sakura adores you. Every time you’re close, every time you touch, he’s reminded of the bewildering fact that you’re with him and every nerve in his body lights up. He had to run from the diner earlier because just you touching his thigh gave him a tent in his pants. He had to go back to patrol late from his break because he saw down your top and he needed ten minutes to calm himself down.

It's not that Sakura doesn’t want to touch you. It’s that he knows if he starts, he won’t be able to stop touching you.

You gently guide him to the couch, climbing on his lap to straddle him. Sakura’s hands immediately go to your hips as he looks at you with wide eyes.

“You’re so good to me, Haru,” you say, your voice sultry as you push his two-toned hair back from his forehead. “I want to make you feel good now, okay?”

Sakura’s awe-struck. He nods eagerly, licking his lips and tipping his face towards yours.

You snake a hand up his neck to cup his jaw before capturing his lips in a kiss.

Sakura inhales sharply through his nose, the feel of your pillowy lips against his making his heart set off at a gallop. You deepen the kiss, slipping your tongue into his mouth and Sakura tightens his grip on you, almost whimpering against your lips.

It’s like a dam breaks inside Sakura. He kisses you back frantically, his tongue meeting yours. His hands run up to your waist, squeezing you as if afraid to let you go. You move from his mouth to his jaw and then lower down still to his neck, kissing along his windpipe, and feel him melt under your touch.

You’ve never kissed Sakura like this before, never gone anything beyond a one-time hand hold and a few pecks on the cheek. But now you’re both filled with a desperate need.

You can feel his hard-on already, pressing against the thin fabric of your panties as Sakura bucks his hips under you. You push down, grinding against his bulge and making Sakura whimper.

“Does that feel good, baby?” you coo, peppering loving kisses across his warm cheeks.

“Mhm, fuck… y-yeah, feels s’good…” Sakura breathes out as you drag your clothed pussy along his length.

Even as his brain becomes addled with needy pleasure, he can’t stop his hands roaming over you. He reaches up to start groping your breasts, feeling the soft flesh between his fingers and your nipples hardening under his palm.

“S-Shit…” he mumbles.

How many times has he thought about touching you like this? More times than he can count – and none of his imaginings come close to the real thing.

Sakura leans forward, pushing your top up over your tits so he can bury his face in your cleavage. His hands move down to your ass, gripping you tight as he pushes and pulls your hips, encouraging you to grind harder. Every stroke of your pussy, even through two layers of fabric, is making his cock leak so much precum, it’s soaking through his pants.

Sakura’s lips latch onto your nipple, eliciting a sharp gasp from you as he starts to suck roughly, his teeth grazing you. You card your fingers through the hair at the back of his head, encouraging him.

“You’re such a good boy, Haru,” you tell him, your voice coming out breathless and lusty.

Sakura moans into your breasts and you feel his cock throb. Neither of you are undressed but he’s a mess already, all needy and handsy and desperate.

“P-Please let me fuck you,” Sakura whimpers. “Please, I’ll do anything, just let me fuck you, please.”

You pull your hips back, cupping Sakura’s chin to force him to look at you.

“Are you sure, baby?” you ask between soft kisses at the corner of his mouth.

Sakura nods desperately, his hips involuntarily bucking up. His cock strains against his pants, so achingly hard.

“I need to feel you, please, let me cum inside you. Please, baby, please, I can’t-” Sakura whines through gritted teeth, his hips still stirring at a chance of feeling your pussy rub against him again. “I need you so bad right now.”

The sound of his sweet begging only makes you wetter. You press a gentle kiss to his lips.

“I can’t say no to you, Haru.”

You reach down to unbutton his pants, pulling his cock free. He’s hard as a rock, the tip shiny with precum. Your eyes widen slightly – he’s bigger than you thought he’d be.

“Ah! F-Fuck…” Sakura gasps as he feels your soft fingers close around it, his hips bucking again, desperate to rut into you.

You pull your panties to the side, drenched with your arousal, and align your sopping hole with his fat mushroom tip. Sakura whimpers as he feels your heat, making you smirk. Having him under you like this, like putty, so needy and helpless, is making your clit throb with desire.

You slowly sink down onto him, his girth stretching you but made easier with the amount of slick between your legs. Sakura gives a long, relieved moan as he feels himself slot inside you, so snug and warm and tight.

“That’s it, baby,” you soothe him, slowly bouncing up and down. “Does that feel good?”

“So f-fucking good,” Sakura stammers, pleasure short-circuiting his brain and making it hard to speak.

He squeezes his eyes shut, his brows knitting together in the middle as his lips part. His hands are on your tits again, groping you, feeling them bounce under his touch as you ride him. His cock throbs inside you, engorged with how close he is to cumming.

You roll your hips, rubbing your clit against him with every stroke, bracing yourself with your hands on his muscular shoulders. Sakura starts to thrusts up, meeting your hips with his as he becomes more needy, more desperate to cum.

Sakura wraps both his arms around you, pulling you flush to him and raising your hips slightly.

“So close… so close…” he whimpers as he thrusts up, holding you in place as he ruts up into you. He’s so sensitive he could burst, caught between the need to cum and the need to prologue this feeling for as long as possible, your heavenly walls squeezing him so tightly.

He presses his face against your tits, sucking roughly on your nipple as he fucks up into you. Sakura’s cock bullies into your pussy, stroking against the spot inside you that’s making you drip like a faucet. You tug on the roots of his hair, scratching your nails over his scalp as you whisper hoarse praises to him.

Sakura’s eyes roll back inside his head, your nipple falling from his mouth as he lets out a deep moan. His mind whites out as his orgasm hits, a choked groan escaping his throat.

“Fuck… fuck…” he whimpers as you feel him come undone inside you.

Sakura doesn’t stop thrusting even as he spills his load, fucking it into you. His grip loosens slightly on you so you meet his thrusts, bouncing on his cock again as Sakura bucks and jerks under you.

“That’s it, let me have it all, baby,” you talk him through it softly.

You slow as Sakura’s arms tighten around you again, his face smooshed between your tits, his hips stuttering to a stop. You can feel him breathing hard against your chest, sweat coating both your bodies.

Gently, you pry him away from you and meet his lips in a kiss.

“You did so good, Haru,” you praise him, cupping his jaw.

You’re aware he’s still inside you when he throbs at your words, even as his face is dazed, cheeks pink.

“I’ll give you a few minutes and then we’ll do that again, okay?” You wiggle on his lap, Sakura wrapping his arms tighter around you as your walls squeeze his oversensitive cock. “Can you do that for me?”

Sakura nods eagerly, his eyes glazed over with lust.

“Yes, ma’am.”

masterlist

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[grandline-fics]

Oou can you do one piece men catching you in their clothes?? I've always liked this trope (?) cause i just find it so cute especially one who have like giant coats and capes like coras :D

DESCRIPTION: They catch you wearing their clothes

WARNINGS: nothing, just fluff. established relationship with Crocodile. Mutual crush in Cora's/Rosi's

CHARACTERS: Crocodile, Corazon

WORDS: 1,749

A/N: Thank you for this request! I'm a sucker for this trope. Since no specific characters were requested I went for Cora and Croc because of the big coats. If you'd like any other characters for this idea just let me know! This was my first time writing for Cora so hopefully I did him justice and that you're happy with the end results for these.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

————————

CROCODILE

You admired Crocodile for his rigid work ethic and extreme focus, always making sure everything was done perfectly and without error. Even in the days of running a casino simply to act as a cover for his real dealings in Alabasta he made sure it was run smoothly and properly. However sometimes his hard work interfered with any time you two could actually spend together because of how focussed he'd become. You never needed to bring this up to him because when he did have the time to tear himself away from his work it was you he immediately sought and would comment about how much he’d been away from you. You were more than used to his behaviour by now. However one afternoon as you leant against the doorframe and watched him work diligently a curious thought that you’d never really considered before crept into your mind; what would pull his focus and make Crocodile immediately stop working?

At first you decided to start small, bringing him lunch and set it on his desk, watching as he murmured a thanks and managed to perfectly skewer the sandwich with his hook and ate it without any spilling out. As he ate, his eyes remained on the paperwork he was writing. With pursed lips you stepped behind his chair and slowly draped your arm around his shoulder. Your hand settled on his chest just as he finished eating. “Hey, love. Can-?”

“Anything you want.” Crocodile’s response was automatic and his body was still unmoving from his work. You couldn’t help but find his reaction endearing, that Crocodile's want to give you anything you desired managed to break partially through his focus but it wasn't the real break in attention you wanted. 

You weren’t even going to initially ask him for anything in particular, just a mundane question to see if he'd answer. Now though he'd practically given you permission for anything you could think of. Smiling you pressed a quick kiss against his cheek and straightened, your fingers skimming against the large fur-lined coat draped over his shoulders as you did so and suddenly an idea came to you. With casual strides you made your way to your shared room with Crocodile and threw open the doors to his wardrobe. Your eyes roamed over his clothes with appreciation, everything made with the best quality materials by the finest tailors. Sometimes you felt hesitant to touch such finery but not today, he'd given you permission after all. Immediately your eyes went to your favourite coat he owned. The deep black fabric and matching fur trim were simple but striking and with the gold buttons and dark green satin lining it was just enough to draw anyone's eye. 

With a hum you slipped the coat on and grinned in the mirror at how the garment wrapped around you. It was so long on you that it trailed behind you. Leaving the room you walked back down the corridor, trying not to enjoy how his coat billowed behind you. It made sense know why he wore them now. You glanced up to see you were nearing his office and you decided that first you were going to simply walk by the open door. However you were no sooner passed the doorway when a gust of sand appeared and wrapped around your waist, lifting you off of your feet and pulling you backwards and into the room with the door closing behind you. Perched on Crocodile’s desk you stared at your lover as he sat back in his seat, watching you intently and his paperwork abandoned. “Care to explain?”

“Was curious.” You shrugged with a triumphant smile, having succeeded your goal.

“About?” 

“Wondered what it’d take to distract you from your work.”

“Dear, just because I’m looking at my work doesn't mean I’m never aware of your presence.” Crocodile explained as he gently took hold of the lapel of his coat that you were wearing and pulled you closer. Usually he loved the sight of you out of clothes but he had to admit seeing you in something of his only deepened his feelings of possessiveness, an extra claim that you were his   not that that was ever in doubt. “I will admit this is a sight I could get used to, although I think my work would certainly suffer as a result.”

“Still not seeing a downside to this.” You grinned up at him with a smug smile as you settled your hand over his. “I’m keeping this one by the way.”

“My love, it’s a commissioned make. No other exists. Wouldn’t you settle for your own? One that fits you better?” He was mostly teasing. Of course if your heart was set on it he wouldn’t object but would still plan on stealing it from you should the occasion call for it.

“I think this one suits me just fine but I'll be kind and share but only if I’m repaid with a kiss.”

“You have yourself a deal.”

CORAZON / ROSINANTE

Rosinante stared out at the wintery expanse blankly, his dark eyes set on the people bustling about in the town below. They were used to the terrain, born and raised on the winter dominated island. With it being a day with light snowfall and cracks of blue appearing in the sky the people seemed in lighter spirits. Nice to see but it made his task of observing a possible threat harder. It was rare to have a mission set for him by his brother also overlap and bring some good for the Marines too but they did happen. If this man did prove himself to be a danger, he’d be dealt with swiftly and it’d be one less criminal in the world. Doffy would be satisfied too, not that that particular aspect would be a big factor in his actions but it would mean his undercover role would remain intact.

He blinked out of his concentration when the cigarette in his mouth was promptly stolen from his painted lips and he looked to see you stub it out into the snow with a low fizzle. Rosinante said nothing and continued to observe you as you settled onto the flattened patch of snow beside him. Feeling his stare you met his gaze and smiled sweetly. “Don't pout. I’m just looking out for your health here. Any movement?” 

At your question, Rosinante activated his power to create the soundproof area for you both. While you were both concealed from the view of others he never liked to take any chances of your conversations to be heard. With you here, your own cover was just as at risk as his should the wrong person find out and the last thing he wanted was to put you in danger even though you too had given your life to that of a double agent and spy. “Nothing yet.”

Getting to hear Rosinante’s deep voice always made you happy, part of you always thought he might be lonely in some strange way in having to remain silent in order to keep his true role a secret. It also made you happy because it meant you were someone he trusted in revealing his voice too, and what a lovely voice it was too. Such a shame practically no-one got to hear it. Knowing your roles and what you were here to do, you both kept conversation to a minimum, Rosinante using his notepad to make longer notes to you while also keeping the feathers of his coat in front of his mouth to hide his minimal verbal responses just in case someone should spot you both and see his lips moving.

For ages you both sat and fulfilled your watch until you both noticed the sun setting. Still no further forward in confirmation of the threat and his rumoured weapons smuggling from his store, you both knew that you’d have another day of investigating ahead of you. With a tired groan you stood and finally took note of how cold and numb your limbs were because of the snow. Smiling you offered your hand to your partner and helped him get to his feet. 

However his unfortunately chronic clumsiness finally reared its head and Rosinante tumbled over, knocking you back down onto the untouched snow pile away from where you'd both been sitting in and now you were soaked and your body immediately began to tremble. With chattering teeth and shaking hands you allowed yourself to be pulled out of the snow by a very apologetic Rosinante who'd managed to stay dry. You could barely brush the excess snow off of yourself and seeing your struggle, your mission partner stepped in, dusting you off as gently as possible but only kept his movements reserved for your head and shoulders. As much as he’d known his attraction for you, he refused to touch you in anyway that would make you uncomfortable regardless of how innocent his intentions were. He just knew he’d need to get you warm fast to avoid you getting sick.

You’d never been more happy to step into the room at the inn you and Rosinante were sharing, making a beeline for the bathroom to shower and get warm. When you were changed into fresh clothes you felt the difference but the chill still clung to your body and you shivered harshly as you stepped out into the room, confused to see Rosinante was gone but the fire in the room was burning with his feather coat hanging near it. Swiftly you hurried forward and bundled the coat into your arms to avoid another accident from occurring. With a sigh and shake of your head you went to set his coat on his bed only to pause when you felt how soft and warm it was. Unable to resist you pulled it on and curled up in one of the armchairs. Finally feeling your body heat you sighed in satisfaction.

Rosinante returned not long after with an extra blanket that he’d been searching for under his arm. He froze at the sight and his heart involuntarily began to beat faster. Seeing you so peaceful and wrapped up in his clothes it was more than he could bear. He didn’t think his affection and attraction for you could grow anymore but it did and from such a simple thing. It made him all the more resolved to ensure that he would keep you safe.

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

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[hairyjocktf]

A Sweaty Semester

Dean let out a heavy breath as he wiped the sweat from his face. His phone said it was 98 degrees out but it felt like 112. He’d been dreading moving in August for this very reason, but at least the worst was over now, he thought. Surrounded by boxes he slumped onto his new bed, his soaked shirt cold against his back. Dean had just moved into his dorm room in central Texas, a full week early because his mom said he should “get to know the town”. The building was old and the air conditioning was barely functioning, leading to a miserable couple hours of moving boxes in oppressive heat. After a long drive and the unloading ordeal, he was exhausted, the heat lulling him to sleep as he laid on his bare bed. 

That was until the door to his room flew open, banging against the wall and startling Dean out of his nap. He heard shuffling and grunting outside in the hall as a stench began to leak into the room. It was almost more nauseating than the heat, a pungent mix of sweat, body odor, and who knows what else. Dean’s eyes watered as a figure holding several boxes stepped into the room before dropping them onto the opposing bed. He turned around revealing himself to Dean. He was at least six feet tall, broad and pretty built, his large frame only partially covered by a sweat soaked tank top. His face was covered in a thick beard, and the tank revealed a substantially hairy chest and shoulders. Now that he was in Dean’s face, the stench was ten times as bad, he could practically taste the sweat on the guy’s body in the air. He grinned and stuck out a hand towards Dean, “The name’s Hunter.”

Dean stared at him for a few seconds too long before stretching out his own, “Dean.” Hunter’s grin turned into a full on smile. 

“Well nice to meet ya dude!” he said with a vigorous handshake. Dean was still staring at him, there was no way Hunter was a college freshman, he looked years older than himself at the very least. His daze was broken when Hunter raised an arm to scratch the side of his head, letting a fresh wave of musky stench out directly into Dean’s face. He nearly doubled over from the intensity; how on Earth was he going to live with someone who stunk like this?

“It’s a real roaster out there today huh? I’ve got some more boxes out in my truck that I’m gonna go get, but first let’s get some air flowing in here.” Hunter proceeded to open the dorm window letting a gust of blistering air inside. “It may still be hot but at least it’s some circulation,” he chuckled before walking back into the hall and leaving Dean alone. He was stunned. The outside air helped marginally with the lingering scent but made the heat even worse, and in minutes he was back to sweating buckets. Dean’s mind was racing with thoughts trying to cope with how the next year of living with this guy would be. He could barely think straight when Hunter was in the room with that eye watering aroma of his. While he was still alone Dean stripped off his sopping wet shirt and threw on a fresh one to try and maintain some level of comfort, before beginning the arduous task of unpacking all of his boxes.

A few minutes later Hunter returned with another huge stack of boxes, his sweat-drenched form glistening in the afternoon light. “Alright I think that’s most of it, guess I’ll join ya here in putting it all away!” he laughed. Dean managed to put on a smile but internally he was really going through it, and that was before Hunter pulled out a speaker and put on some music that sounded like something Dean’s father would listen to. Dean gulped, and they both got to work unpacking box after box. Even though he’d just changed, Dean’s shirt was soaked almost immediately. He had to pull out his bath towel just to wipe the sweat from his face. He knew it was hot but this was getting ridiculous, and on top of that he could barely breathe with Hunter’s noxious fumes filling the room. After a while of hanging clothes and dripping sweat all over the room, Dean backed out into the hall to use the bathroom. Miraculously, it was significantly cooler out there. Maybe the open window was doing more harm than anything, he thought. Upon returning to the room a few minutes later he was greeted with a blast of late afternoon heat, the intense smell of a sweaty body, and Hunter lounging on his haphazardly made bed, exposing his ripe pits to the air. 

Dean paused in the doorway, unknowingly staring at Hunter’s pits. They were covered with thick tufts of brown hair, matted down by sweat. He could practically see the stench wafting from them. Hunter looked up from his phone, catching Dean staring. He smirked before reaching with one hand to tousle the hairs, even pulling his hand up to his nose after to sniff it. Dean’s trance was broken by his gut reaction to gag at such a sight. Why had he been staring at those disgusting pits in the first place? He put those thoughts out of his mind and got back to shoving stuff under his bed. Sweat dripped from his hair onto everything in front of him; it was so hot in the room, and the smell of sweat permeated everything. Dean couldn’t get the sight of Hunter’s hairy sweaty body out of his mind for some reason, no matter how much he tried to focus on what he was doing. He even caught his dick pressing hard against his shorts at one point. What the hell was going on?

That night Dean laid out on his bed, tossing and turning from the heat. It had cooled down but Hunter insisted they keep the window open; at least it helped with the smell a bit. He could feel the top sheet beneath him was fully soaked through, his sweat was inescapable. He could see the drops on him shining from the streetlight outside. It was near impossible to get any rest like this, with Hunter snoring across the room stinking up the place. He’d taken off everything but his underwear just to try and cool down, exposing all of him to the heat. His thin pale body dripped sweat in the stagnant night air, drops sliding down his hairless skin. As Dean laid there, the sweat coating his body slowly began to soak into his skin. Thin, wispy hairs began to push out around his nipples, nearly invisible if not for the streetlight catching them. Following those, more hairs poked out in the center of his chest, these slightly darker and spreading over a wider area. They were short and laid flat against his skin as his chest became slightly less bony with a thin layer of muscle and fat gracing his rib cage. His forearms were dusted with a light coating of thin hairs, growing thicker near his wrists. His thighs expanded slightly in size before hairs began sprouting across their expanse, growing slightly thicker and darker than the others. His face itched as peach fuzz across his upper lip darkened a tad, with some more fuzz appearing around his chin. Dean groaned softly in his sleep as his dick pushed harder against his tight underwear, exposing his small amount of hair above. As the sweat soaked in, hairs began to multiply, short dark hairs pushing out from his bush, spreading upwards towards his stomach. As he rolled and twisted on the bed he exposed his bare armpits, and under the soft light from the lamppost thin wispy hairs began to sprout. The hairs grew longer, not too visible at a distance but enough to begin catching some sweat and scents of his own.

Hunter was awake as soon as the sunlight began to light up the room. He looked over at Dean, who was still out cold. He grinned upon seeing the light dusting of hairs that now adorned Dean’s chest and pits, before scratching at his own. He threw on some clothes and left to go jog and hit the gym. By the time Dean finally woke up all that was left was the faint remnant of Hunter’s smell. He rolled out of bed and hit the shower, too tired to notice any changes until he looked in the mirror after. His blood ran cold. What the hell was this? He had hair on his chest. Not much, but more than he’d ever had before. And his legs! They were nearly smooth yesterday! He raised his hands to his head and saw a dark spot under his arms. Pit hair?! Dean was really starting to freak out now, but for some reason he lowered his nose down and sniffed at one of his pits. Despite having just washed them, they already smelled fairly strongly of sweat and body odor; the scent was almost… familiar. Despite his mind screaming in anguish, the smell calmed him slightly. 

Dean tried to put the shower behind him as he got dressed and left the building. He had some shopping to get done before classes started and he wanted to get familiar with the area. An hour later he was walking down aisle after aisle of home goods and furniture, but his mind was somewhere else. He kept thinking about the hair growing on his chest, about Hunter’s strong odor, about how he couldn’t look away from Hunter’s rancid pits yesterday. He didn’t know what to think anymore, what was happening to him.

When he finally got back to the dorm he could already tell Hunter was inside, his smell leaking from under the door into the hall. It seemed slightly less putrid than before, but still an affront to his nose. WIth a deep breath, he opened the door. It was hot and smelly in the room, the afternoon sun blazing through the open window. Hunter was again laid out on his bed, this time entirely shirtless. His broad and toned torso was completely covered in thick hair, and drenched with sweat on top of that. He looked up at Dean and smiled.

“Hey champ! Where’ve you been?” he asked cheerfully. The question barely registered in Dean’s head as he was staring at the rug on Hunter’s chest. After a delay he responded.

“Oh, uh, just had some things I needed to pick up before school gets going,” he said. Hunter sat up and stretched his arms over his head, revealing both his sweaty pits. Dean was blasted by a fresh wave of the odor coming from them, but he didn’t recoil this time, or even gag.

“Ah yea, I should do that too probably,” Hunter laughed. He scratched at his pit, making eye contact with Dean while doing so. He noticed the bulge in Dean’s pants from across the room, before smiling devilishly. “I noticed this morning you’ve got a little more hair on you than I expected! Have to give you some credit,” he said with a smirk. Dean’s face went bright red.

“Did you do this? Are you the one fucking with my head? This isn’t me… It’s been in my head all day… How could you even…” Dean trailed off. Hunter stood up from the bed and walked over to Dean, his large size dwarfing the boy. At point blank the smell coming from Hunter was intoxicating, and Dean was internally torn. Part of him, the original Dean, was disgusted, the lack of cleanliness was an affront. But the other part of him had grown to love the scent, to think about it and Hunter all day, to crave it more and more. Hunter looked down at him with a cunning grin, before raising one of his arms and exposing that damp, rank, hairy pit. In that moment, the new Dean won. He stuck his face deep into Hunter’s dank armpit and breathed in, taking in the most intense smell yet. Hunter laughed and then grabbed the back of Dean's head and pushed it in even farther. Sweat dripped from Hunter’s pit hairs onto Dean’s face, his body soaked already from the thick summer heat.

As the sweat dripped down his face, Dean could feel something itching. The soft peach fuzz that had grown the night before was thickening. Light wisps grew into thick dark hairs, spreading from his upper lip and chin across his jaw and down his neck. The hairs pushed out quickly, filling in into a dense beard that scratched against Hunter’s pit. Hairs climbed up his cheeks, giving him a thick coating across his whole face, able to trap even more of the sweat dripping on him.

The sweat continued to drip down Dean’s neck and onto his chest as he breathed in more of Hunter’s thick scent. His flat chest began pushing outward, muscle piling onto his frame as two sturdy pecs made themselves known. The light coating of hairs he had grown was quickly overwhelmed as a carpet of thick dark curly hairs erupted across his chest. The sweat fertilized the open expanse as hairs wormed out all over his pecs, engulfing his nipples and tangling together. They reached up over his collarbone and even started growing in on his neck. The dense rug grew even thicker between his growing pecs, hairs multiplying until they looked like fur, hiding any skin. Dean pulled back from Hunter’s pit, gasping for fresh air as he rubbed his hands through the newly grown hair.

Dean felt almost high from taking in so much of Hunter’s pit stench. He wobbled back against his bed and continued to rub his hands through his new chest hair. He groaned as he felt his body continue to expand. His shoulders grew larger and rounder, biceps exploding with size, and his torso grew muscled and took on a V shape. He stripped off his sweat drenched shirt only to see the thick hairs from his stomach spreading downward. His tight stomach was buried beneath a dense mat of dark hairs as they raced south towards his groin. It was then that he finally noticed the massive bulge in his pants, his cock having grown at least a few inches and pushing his shorts to their limit. Hunter stepped over and ripped both his shorts and underwear clean off, letting Dean’s still growing cock bob free. Hunter grabbed it with one hand and before Dean could finish moaning he shoved his face back into his sweaty armpit. Dean’s open mouth was filled with sweaty hair, Hunter’s pungent sweat now dripping down his throat. Dean continued to moan from inside the pit, the pitch growing steadily deeper as his Adam’s apple pushed out.

Hunter took his hand off Dean’s cock, wiped it across his furry chest to get it nice and sweaty, then returned it and began stroking slowly up and down. Dean’s body shuddered with pleasure as pre immediately shot out of his cock. As Hunter slowly moved his hand he watched as the thin bush of hair around the base of the cock began to thicken up. Thick hairs began sprouting up like weeds, dark and curly they wove together into a monstrous bush that kept expanding. The hairs crawled all across his groin, up onto his stomach, and out onto his thighs, the bush only growing denser as more hairs sprouted between old ones. Within minutes Hunter could smell Dean’s growing scent as sweat gathered in the thick bush. Dean groaned as his balls swelled in size and hung lower, the sack becoming engulfed in the same thick fur as it raced from his groin to his ass. His hole was quickly surrounded by dark wiry hairs that sprouted densely in his crack, before blossoming out across his tight ass in a dense fur.

Dean kept moaning from within Hunter’s hairy pit, letting more sweat down his throat. His body continued to grow, muscles popping out across his arms and legs and his frame steadily bulking up. He was even growing taller as a result, Hunter had to push him back against the bed to keep his face locked in. The more Hunter stroked Dean’s cock the more hair continued to spread across his body. His thigh’s already dense coating only grew darker and thicker before moving on to his calves and feet. His shoulders began growing their own coat with thick hairs popping out across the broad expanse, with his arms following suit. His forearms grew dark with a thick rug stretching onto the backs of his hands.

Hunter released Dean’s face before reaching down into his newly grown bush. He got his hand nice and damp before raising Dean’s arms, exposing his paltry amount of hair, and starting rubbing the groin sweat in. Within seconds he could feel his hand rubbing through more hair than before, as new thicker hairs started to shoot up. Dark wiry hairs exploded from Dean’s armpits, forming into a thick tuft of hair that stuck out in every direction, even connecting to the rug on his chest. Hunter grinned as he began to smell Dean’s own scent coming from the pits, growing stronger as more and more hairs pushed out. The hairs kept spreading, giving Dean the thickest forest of pit hair Hunter had ever seen. Dean’s sweat stuck in the jungle, giving it a ripe scent almost immediately. Hunter released Dean from his grip, and his instincts commanded him to sniff his own ripe pits. Dean groaned as he smelled the sweaty odorous pits, scratching his fingers through the thick fur.

Dean then went to stroking his massive cock that Hunter had been edging for a while now. He moaned as each pump coursed through his body, adding more muscle and fur to his frame. His beard pushed out more from his face, even his back began to grow coated with fur. The room was thick with the mixed scents of Hunter and Dean now, and every breath was intoxicating. His breaths grew ragged as he neared climax, and with a roar his cock erupted with the biggest load of Dean’s life. Blast after blast of thick cum shot out, landing all over his hairy body, with some even flying onto Hunter, who laughed. Dean’s cock continued to drizzle the last bits of his load as he collapsed onto his bed, soaked in sweat and cum stuck in his thick body hair. He slowly rubbed his hands across his massive body, feeling how much he’d grown. He’d become a giant to match Hunter, muscled, hairy, and incredibly sweaty and smelly. The stench of both their sweaty bodies was too much for almost anyone, but all Dean craved was more.

Thank you all for 1,000 followers! What an insane milestone. Hope you enjoy this one!

[bkgml]

Omg! Just found your profile and I literally fell in love with your writing, it’s AMAZING! That’s why I’m here to request a Bakugo x fem!reader where the reader has a telekinesis quirk and overworks herself during practice. After that Katsuki can’t seem to find her anywhere until he searches in her room and find her in bed with lights off and just enter protective boyfriend mode? Thank you so much, hope you’ll write it! 🧡🧡🧡

you felt your head pounding as you stare down at the gym mat. you’ve been training heavily all afternoon and you feel yourself getting closer and closer to your limit.

“yn, you good?” sero asks stepping closer to your hunched over form.

your eyebrows furrow and your ears ring. god your head is pounding.

“yeah.” you mutter weakly, breathing deeply through your nose.

“you’ve trained enough for today, go rest up for the test tomorrow.” he says sternly.

“no i’m good, one more round.” you say, standing to your full height in an attempt to mask your pain.

“you’re gonna fucking pass out. go upstairs.” he says, pushing you gently in the direction of the gym doors.

“fine fine i’m going.” you laugh weakly, stumbling outside.

“and drink some fucking water!” he yells.

****************************************************

“i’m gonna kick your ass.” katsuki snarls.

kirishima just knocked him down and katsuki is not happy.

“bro, you’re getting weaker.” kirishima teases, way to poke the beast.

katsuki launches into another attack, pummeling kirishima.

****************************************************

after your quick shower, you stumbled into bed and pulled out your phone.

*calling: katsuki <3*

straight to voicemail.

you sigh, trying to relax, but the stress of your combat test as well as your sore muscles are forcing you to stay awake.

*calling: serooo*

“yo, yn! this fight is crazy, kirishima and bakugou are killing it!”

“nice!” you attempt to sound excited, but you feel like shit.

“…so, katsuki’s still training then?” you say sadly.

“uh yeah he is, do you want me to get him though?” he offers.

“no, it’s okay. just tell him to call me when he’s free, okay?”

“yeah, course. bye, feel better!” he cheers.

“bye sero.” you mumble, arm flopping back on the bed.

you’re so frustrated. you just want to relax and sleep but you can’t manage to.

****************************************************

“hey bakugou.” sero says, running up to him after katsuki finishes sparring.

“hm?” he hums while chugging his water.

“yn told me to tell you to call her.” katsuki’s eyes furrow.

“where is she?” he asks.

“she’s in her dorm. she overworked herself during training, looked like shit.” he replies.

katsuki frowns deeply, pushing past sero and through the gym doors.

“fuckin told her… don’t overwork yourself… just can’t listen.” he grumbles, trudging in the direction of your dorm.

he creaks your door open slowly to not wake you.

“suki?” you murmur, head lifting to peer at your door.

“what are you doing up?” he sighs.

“can’t sleep.” you whine.

“yn i told you not to fuckin overwork yourself.” he grumbles, shutting the door behind him.

“i’m just really stressed out right now, kats. ‘m sorry.”

he sighs, walking over to thread his fingers through your hair.

“i know angel. we can train more tomorrow, you just need to rest properly in between spars, okay?” he says, kissing your forehead softly.

you nod and grab his hand.

“come here.” you whisper, eyes flicking up to his.

“i’m so sweaty. gonna have a quick shower.” he explains and you frown lightly.

“5 minutes. just rest, alright?” he kisses your head before walking into your bathroom.

you try to breathe and relax to the white noise of the shower but your headache overpowers your exhaustion.

****************************************************

“why aren’t you asleep?” he frowns, grabbing boxers from a drawer he occupies.

“i can’t, im too nervous for the test.” you frown, getting frustrated.

“you’re going to pass, i promise.” he says, dragging the towel over his hair while walking over to you.

your frustration builds tears in your eyes causing you to turn away from him.

katsuki sighs, climbing into bed and cradling you gently.

quiet sobs fill the room and you bring your hand up to harshly wipe at your eyes.

“let me kiss you.” he mumbles into your shoulder.

you turn in his grip and bury your face into his chest.

you remain there until your tears stop and you lift your head to look into his eyes, pecking his lips.

he stops you from pulling away by resting his hand on the back of your head, thumb rubbing up and down to massage your scalp.

you sigh into the kiss and feel your eyelids grow heavy.

“sleep now.” he murmurs against your hairline.

you nose at his jaw softly, tucking your face into his neck.

“night.”

he cradles you in his arms.

“night.” he says, smiling against your scalp.

[won4kiss]

𖠵 . ׅ ࣪ ⌇ 𝑆𝑈𝑃𝐸𝑅 𝑆𝐻𝑌 !

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 𝑛ishimura riki x 𝑓! reader. 𝒢enre fluff. 𝓢ynopsis. in which you write a confession to riki ! 𝑤𝑐 𐙚ㅤㅤ 1287 ⸝⸝ not edited, kissing ⸝⸝ ୭ৎ — 𝓵𝗂𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗋𝔂 ᥫ᭡

for @bywons’s on our love event ! ‹𝟹

THE SOFT HUM OF CHATTER AND THE GENTLE RUSTLING OF PAPERS FILLED THE CLASSROOM AS YOU SETTLED INTO YOUR SEAT, trying your best to look occupied.

you had spent almost two years harboring a secret crush on nishimura riki.

he was the effortlessly cool, funny and incredibly kind boy who always seemed to catch your eye.

he was everything you admired; confident, talented, and strikingly handsome.

the only problem was that you had never spoken to him in those two years other than probably eight words? — more under cut !

your friends often teased you about your obvious infatuation.

every time riki walked by or glanced in your direction, your heart would race, and your cheeks would flush a deep shade of red.

you couldn't help but steal glances at him, and more often than not, you found him looking back at you, a curious expression on his face.

today was no different. as you sat pretending to read, you felt his eyes on you.

you looked up, meeting his gaze for a brief moment before quickly looking away, your face burning. he caught you again!

this was becoming a pattern, and you could tell he was starting to find it amusing. his soft chuckle and the way his eyes crinkled at the corners made your heart skip a beat.

riki had noticed you a while ago. at first, he found it odd that you were always looking at him, but as time went on, he started to find it endearing.

there was something about your shy demeanor and the way you blushed whenever he caught you staring that he found incredibly cute and endearing.

it didn't take long for him to develop a crush on you, but every time he tried to approach you, you would get so flustered that you'd hiccup and then run away like a damsel in distress.

it was after one of these encounters, where you had practically sprinted out of the classroom after riki had simply said "hi," that he began to doubt himself.

maybe you didn't like him at all. maybe you were just being polite, and he had misinterpreted your shyness for something more.

the thought made his heart ache, and he started avoiding you, thinking it would be best to spare both of you the awkwardness.

days turned into weeks, and you noticed riki's absence quite quickly. he no longer looked your way, no longer smiled at you from across the room.

the realization that he lost interest in you because of your shy demeanour and the fact that you can’t speak a few words to him hurt more than you cared to admit.

your friends noticed your growing sadness and decided to take matters into their own hands.

"y/n, you need to do something,"

your best friend, eunchae, said one afternoon as you all sat in the cafeteria.

"you can't just let this go on forever. you like him, and he clearly liked you too before you kept running away."

"but what if he doesn't like me anymore?" you asked, your voice small.

"he does," eunchae insisted.

"trust me. you just need to show him how you feel. write him a letter or something. leave it on his desk."

you bit your lip, considering her suggestion. the thought of writing down your feelings and leaving it for riki to find made your heart pound with a mix of fear and excitement.

after much encouragement from your friends, you finally agreed.

that night, you sat at your desk, the blank page in front of you feeling like the most intimidating thing in the world.

after several false starts and a lot of crumpled paper, you finally managed to write a letter that you felt conveyed your feelings without being too over the top.

dear riki,

i don't know if you've noticed, but i've liked you for a long time. almost two years now. i know i get super shy and always run away whenever you try to talk to me, but it's just because i get so nervous around you. you're amazing, and i didn't want to make a fool of myself.

i'm sorry if i made you think i don't like you. i really do, i just didn't know how to show it.

i really hope you feel the same,

with love, y/n.

the next day, with trembling hands, you slipped the letter onto riki's desk before class started and quickly took your seat, your heart racing.

throughout the day, you couldn't concentrate, your mind occupied with thoughts of how riki would react.

would he laugh? would he be angry? would he ignore you completely?

when the final bell rang, you gathered your things and left the classroom, your steps slow and hesitant.

you were almost at the school gate when you heard someone calling your name.

turning around, you saw riki jogging towards you, holding the letter in his hand.

"y/n, wait!" he called out, his expression serious yet hopeful.

you froze, your heart in your throat as he reached you.

"r-riki, i..."

"come with me," he interrupted, gently taking your hand and leading you back into the school.

you followed him, your mind racing with endless possibilities.

he led you up to the rooftop, a place you often went to when you needed to think.

it was quiet and peaceful, with a beautiful view of the city.

once you were there, riki turned to face you, still holding your hand. "i read your letter," he said softly.

you swallowed hard, unable to meet his gaze out of the cheesy words you had written.

"i'm sorry if it was weird. i just... i didn't know how else to tell you."

riki let out a small laugh, shaking his head.

"it's not weird, y/n. it's actually really sweet. and it made me realize something."

you finally looked up at him, confusion and hope pooling in your eyes.

"what do you mean?"

riki took a deep breath, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand shyly.

"i like you too, y/n. i have for a while now. i thought you didn't like me because you always ran away, but now i understand why."

your eyes widened in surprise.

"you... you do?"

riki nodded, his expression sincere.

"yeah, i do. and i'm really glad you wrote me that letter. it gave me the courage to tell you how i feel."

tears of relief and happiness welled up in your eyes.

"i was so scared you'd hate me."

"how could i hate you?" riki said softly, stepping closer.

"you're amazing, y/n. and i'm really happy we can finally be honest with each other."

before you could respond, riki leaned in and kissed you, his lips soft and gentle against yours.

the kiss was sweet and warm, filled with all the emotions you had both kept bottled up for so long.

when he finally pulled away, you were both smiling, the weight of your unspoken feelings lifted of your shoulders.

riki took your hand again, intertwining his fingers with yours.

"so, what do you say we start over? hi, i'm riki."

you laughed, your heart soaring in love.

"hi, i'm y/n. nice to meet you."

he grinned, his eyes sparkling with happiness.

"nice to meet you too. now, let's get out of here. we've got a lot of catching up to do!"

with your hand in his, you left the rooftop, your heart lighter than it had been in years.

it had taken almost two years of shy glances and unspoken feelings, but you had finally found the courage to open up to riki.

as you walked out of the school together, you knew that this was just the beginning of something beautiful.

© won4kiss 2024

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