#and it does NOT help that they taste so fucking bad. and dissolve so quick. i’ve almost thrown up like three times this week

[morgana-pendragon]

every time i go to take these goddamn pills i forget how to swallow what is UP with that .

[hrwinter]

Lena placing a pair of glasses on a pillow and making out with it pretending it’s Kara

Lena’s not always this drunk. Well. Lena hasn’t historically imbibed this much after the age of 26, but her mother’s been arrested and her best friend is a liar, so what else is there to do other than look for an answer at the bottom of a very large bottle of scotch.

She’s been to three upscale bars and restaurants with Andrea, both of them reverting to their messy boarding school days almost instantaneously after the third glass, giggling in the corner and overtly hitting on men and women by sending them pretentious $24 cocktails.

But there’s still a dark streak in all the buffoonery. Lena can’t stop searching for blue eyes on the face of every blonde or broad shoulders under the lapels of every Armani jacket. She hates herself for it. And she hates Kara Danvers. Or Kara Zor-El, whatever the fuck.

Lena is pissed.

She takes another moody sip of scotch while some stock broker continues to shoot his shot (why do they all talk the same? why do they all feel the need to explain how money works to her, a billionaire?) and Andrea’s laughing and laughing at a woman far too loudly, her finger tips sloshing the edge of a martini she absolutely doesn’t need. While the man goes on about blue chip stocks, earnings per share, dividends (kill her), Lena’s eyeing the restroom.

No one would miss her if she ducked out. She could have a car here in minutes. Hell, Andrea would probably appreciate the attention of both parties at the same time. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d finagled a twosome into a threesome.

But that means going home. It means gazing at the dark sky from the cold enclave of her penthouse balcony. It means seeing the downturned photo frame, glass smashed, but still not thrown away.

God damn Kara. She stays.

She doesn’t go home with the man, and Andrea doesn’t go home with the woman. They don’t all go home together. But she and Andrea do go to another bar, and after that, an after hours bar. Then, by some misfortune of a higher power, they end up at a bratwurst stand at 4 AM with a horde of college kids. College children.

“Someone threw up just there,” Lena points at the pavement.

“Oh, don’t be such a snob!” Andrea shrieks into the night, grasping at Lena’s elbow and toying with a necklace Lena knows to cost more than a tricked out Vespa. Lena may be glassy-eyed, there may even be two of Andrea, but she can still spot irony.

“I’m starving. And I haven’t had one of these in yeaaarrrsss,” Andrea elongates as they move up a few paces in line. “Remember when we’d sneak into town and grift old men for drinks? That hot dog stand just outside of Hawthorne’s? I’ve been desperate for one.”

Lena wants to complain more, but it does smell good. And by the time they have bratwursts fisted in hand and are leaning against a nearby brick wall with the rest of the infants, Lena’s not feeling all that bad. It might be the best thing she’s ever tasted in her life. God, this might be the best she’s ever felt in her life. Numb, blitzed out of her mind, somewhere closer to nineteen sheets to the wind than three, she’s no longer a Luthor, no longer a simpering fool to a Super’s lies, not a CEO or a disappointment or even a person. She’s just a presence existing on this curb, eating a bratwurst.

“I’m having an out of body experience,” she tells Andrea with half her mouth full and still swallowing.

“That good, huh?” Andrea has mustard on her chin.

“I want another.”

Lena glances up, and her visions tunnels. Her existence is whittled down even further, to its basest instinct. She’s become the singular pursuit of a thousand more calories, of another bratwurst. Lena surges into the street, the stand a beacon of light in the darkness.

But several things happen at once. There’s a screech of tires, the smash of metal, what feels like getting hit with a brick wall and then being shot out of a circus canon.

Lena finds herself throwing up on the pavement on the other side of the road, and Kara fucking Danvers yelling at a motorist. The guy has gotten out of his car, hood dented and engine smoking.

“You smashed my car!”

“You almost hit a woman! You could’ve killed her!”

“She just bolted into the street, that’s not my fault!”

“PEDESTRIANS HAVE THE RIGHT OF WAY!” Kara shouts back.

“Hey!” Lena slurs, having regained her dignity by wiping her mouth clean of vomit. It’s called class.

Both the guy and Kara turn to look at her, but her eyes are trained on Kara.

“I don’t need your help,” she tells her with a point of her finger.

This feels very witty. The pinnacle of sass. So what if she’s lost a heel at some point and may have missed a bit of vomit in her hair. She’s the one in control.

The guy’s eyes narrow.

“Are you blind or something? Didn’t your mom teach you to look both ways before you walk into the street?”

At the mention of Lena’s mother, her eyes narrow, she sways dangerously.

“You’re fired.”

“What?” the guy rolls his eyes. “I don’t have time for this.” He whips out his cell phone. “You’ve got insurance right?”

“Um, yeah,” Kara hands him a card, but she’s quick to come to Lena’s side, to place a steadying hand on her shoulder. Lena tries to wiggle away from it like a petulant child.

“Stop it!”

Kara ignores her.

“Lena, I didn’t want to say it around him,” Kara cups a blocking hand over her mouth and points at the guy so he can’t see.

It’s so adorable and infuriating.

She stage whispers, “But you were jaywalking! And you could’ve been hit by a car. What’re you even doing out here?”

Lena rolls her eyes so hard, she might’ve just incurred permanent damage.

“I’m an adult, Supergirl, and I don’t need an escort--”

Lena’s very mature tirade is interrupted by Andrea crossing the street, mouth still wide open and staring. The look she’s giving Kara is distinctly not platonic, and the look she’s giving Lena is one of deepest intrigue. Her eyes scan the pair of them, their body language, the way Kara’s hand is still on Lena’s shoulder (hadn’t she shaken that off?), and smirks.

“Sorry, am I interrupting something?”

Lena could kill her.

“Be quiet, Drea!”

Andrea dissolves into snorts, and Kara glances between the two of them, a look of recognition passing over her face. Now Lena wants to hurl herself into traffic for real.

Kara opens her mouth to speak, but Lena waves a hand in front of her nose.

“Just--everyone shut up and take me home.”

And the route Lena wants to be taken home is clear when she swats at Kara’s (firm) bicep (to push her away, of course), and that swat accidentally turns into a posessive squeeze.

“Oh, can I come, too?” Andrea purrs, and Kara’s eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“No!” Lena barks at her.

“Fine, fine! Call me tomorrow!” Andrea waves, and like some sort of rich superpower, she’s already getting into the back of a sleek black car.

“Okay, Lena,” Kara hushes against her head. It’s too soft and caring, and Lena wants to push her away. But she doesn’t. (Mainly because standing is feeling like quite a complex task, and she doesn’t have the balance for it.)

“This’ll only take a second.” 

Then, Lena’s wrapped in a warm and solid embrace. It’s nice... before everything blurs, and she has the distinct desire to vomit again.

She never wants another bratwurst.

In the very next moment, she’s being gingerly placed on her balcony, and Lena’s surging out of Kara’s grasp and pressing her face against the cold glass of her balcony sliding door. It feels amazing, calming her stomach down by degrees.

“What’re you doing?”

“Oh,” Lena says. Maybe she’d been doing that for a bit too long.

She runs her hands over the glass in an attempt to open the door, heavily petting various keypads and biometric scanners. Nothing happens. She scratches at the glass like a raccoon desperate to be inside.

“Um, isn’t it over there?” Kara indicates a different keypad to the left.

“I don’t need your help!” Lena shouts before following her instructions exactly. The door opens. She grumbles inside.

Unaware and uncaring, Lena starts undressing in her living room the very moment she’s crossed the threshhold, discarding her shirt, her skirt this way and that. There’s a gasp behind her and another suspicious super speeding sound, but she ignores Kara. She paces into her bedroom to strip off her bra and grab an oversized shirt. After, she spread eagles on her bed.

“I, um, brought you a glass of water.”

Lena cracks an eye open, takes in the sight of Kara standing at her bedside, nervous and uncertain, glass of water extended between them like some sort of peace offering.

She groans loudly and sits up to snatch it from her, water sloshing onto her bare legs. She doesn’t register it, draining it dry, glaring at Kara over the edge of the glass the entire time.

The Super pulls at her fingers.

“What’re you doing here?” Lena rasps, rolling the empty glass onto her exquisite and overpriced comforter.

“You were in trouble, Lena.”

“You don’t care about me.”

“Yes, I do.”

Lena scoffs, completely undignified, a sound appropriate for an elementary school playground. She does it again because it feels good. Kara’s eyebrows pinch.

Lena swivels at the waist and plucks her reading glasses off her bedside table. She places them over one of her giant, California King-sized pillows.

“Oh, Kara, there you are!” she says, squeezing it’s sides together like she’s cupping its cheeks. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you in a pair of glasses!”

Kara’s brows furrow deeper, not amused.

“How did I not see that the kindness, the sincerity, the insistence that I was not just another Luthor was a total act!” she continues to talk to it.

“It wasn’t an act--”

Lena brings the pillow close in her arms.

“Stopping by to bring me lunch, complimentary puff pieces, spin class, game nights. You’re so sweeeeeet,” she elongates, squeezing the pillow tight. “And beautiful. You know what you deserve? A kiss.”

Surely, this bit has spiraled out of Lena’s control. This entire night has. And were she sober enough to realize it, she’d catch herself before this next part. But she’s not and she’s wasted. And this pillow is the Kara she used to know, the Kara Lena used to pine for unconditionally, fantasizing what it might be like to just, lean over and...

She loses her balance as she places a wet one just under the glasses of her pillowcase and falls over on top of it. Incidentally, it’s the perfect size for snuggling, just like Kara herself, and her eyes flutter closed, warm and content.

“I’ll--I’ll go,” she hears a voice say.

“Kara?” Lena mumbles, face down in her pillow and not long for this world.

“Yeah?”

“I lo--I mean, I hate you.”

Kara sighs.

“I love you too, Lena.”

[stuckybarton]

Red Velvet Cake

Summary:   Behind the sweet smile and angelic personality was a spitfire when someone dared destroy her little bakery in the heart of New York. Steve finds that out the hard way when his girlfriend's bakery becomes collateral damage in a small fight in New York. Warning: Profanities. Mild Violence. (Two Loud Slaps to be specific). Grammar Errors. Not Beta’d. Characters: Unnamed Female Character x Steve Rogers Words: 1,775 A/N: I don’t know, I just thought of this idea and thought why not. Masterlist

You had never thought your life would become this wild, but you've gone with the flow. Who would have ever thought that finally starting this bakery in the heart of New York. It was tough, with just a handful of employees, would bring you into so much chaos in your once peaceful life.

Meeting the Avengers had been a wild ride with a smooth beginning for you. First meeting Sam, a man that was looking for a quick snack post-work out. A man with a soft smile and quick quips that brought a smile on everyone's faces every single time he would come to visit. Then eventually, he came not alone, but with two of his best friend and your life changed ever since.

Bucky Barnes was the mellow of the trio, preferring to stay in the background while Sam would try his hardest to flirt with you and push his other friend with you. But he always had this charm on him that had a few of your female employees swooning just by the simply nickname of Doll he would throw at them.

But Sam's other friend had all his attention on you just as much as you had your entire attention on him. The dame that always spoiled him with sweets and made him enjoy morning runs more now that your bakery become their daily stop after.

It started out with the flirtation, at least that was what Steve believed it to be. Having been used to Sam's daily flirtation, you got so immune to it that it had become easier to hide the warmth in your cheeks or the heart eyes that Sam and Bucky were once quick to point out when Steve wasn't looking. Eventually it ended with him finally asking you out for lunch and the rest, as they say was history between the two of you.

Eventually, it had brought you into the circle of what was his team. The Avengers. Starting with one Tony Stark that had visited your bakery one fair morning and brought everything in your bakery long before the trio would come for their visit. It was an eventful day for you, that much you could admit. Everyone had the rest of the day to themselves and gave you time to spend with Steve, as annoyed as he was to not be able to have his usual treats. You made him your special apple pie as compensation, much to his enjoyment.

Then it was the rest of the team, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff, and Vision. Visiting after getting a taste of your pastries that Tony Stark had generously provided for the team. Now like the trio, you now have another trio you can call as your regulars. Then there was Clint Barton, Thor, and Dr. Bruce Banner that eventually came to visit after everyone had egged them on and they would come for a few pastries and coffee, but not as much as the rest of the bunch. You were alright with that, being able to meet Steve's team and knowing each and every single one of them were good people in their own little way was enough for you.

Weeks turned into months, and months now turned to almost two years. Your life at the bakery was filled with ups and downs just as much as your relationship with one Steve Rogers. The constant fear you had when he was on a mission, uncertain whether he would come back alive or not.  Then there was the more often than not times that you were too consumed with the bustling number of customers than you only had time to give him a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek before helping out on the cashier. It had once been a fight between the two of you because of your line of work, but you would constantly compromise. He was out saving the world while you were living the dream you had always wanted for yourself with baking. Instead of his apartment in Brooklyn, Steve was now living with you, in the humble little apartment you had above the bakery. Your little piece of heaven.

This life you had created with Steve was something you had never thought you'd have for yourself but you were enjoying it immensely. You would want nothing more in your life. Until things had gone horribly bad and you want nothing more than to kill Steven Grant Rogers and the rest of the Avengers.

~

Y/N was going to kill him. That much Steve had known while they continued on with the debriefing. A quarter of New York City was wiped clean by the attack of the alien overlord attempting their luck on the planet. As much as Tony had assured that they could stay in the tower while repairs were being made, He was still uncertain with what you would be feeling because of it.

Nothing hurts him more than seeing you sad or disappointed.

"What's the ETA on the repair?" he inquired as soon as the meeting was done.

"More or less two weeks. We've had our team assure Y/N that her employees would be paid full for the two weeks while we are doing repairs." Tony explained. "Last time I heard she barely spoke a word while she helped her employees with cleaning up."

Steve could only sigh, annoyance peaking through his mind. It was worst than he thought.

"Mister Stark, Ms. Y/L/N is on her way to the meeting room." F.R.I.D.A.Y announced.

Before the A.I could finish with the announcement, the sudden slam of the door had everyone's head turn, every single one ready for another fight. But the sight of the innocent Y/N looking displeased brought everyone to a slight calm. There was still a problem, but this was better than another alien attack.

"Babe-"

The resounding slap had everyone else wincing. So much for the Super Serum. Everyone could see the red imprint on Steve's face and your shaky hand responsible for the said mark on the Captain's face.

"Your fucking shield destroyed the ramekins." you snapped, Steve could practically see you shaking from where you stood in front of him.

You were nothing, compared to him, a Super Soldier. But just the sight of you, fuming to the nose made everyone believe that you can easily take him on. This was a genuine surprise for Steve. He had seen so much side of his girlfriend of nearly two years. Through many stages of emotional turmoil, happiness, sadness, annoyance, dysphoria, and that godforsaken puppy dog eyes that he could never say no to. But this, the sight of you  angry, genuinely furious was the last thing he would have ever thought to see from you.

"Everyone has a long day, Y/N." Tony approached and the glare than now focused on her made it very well known that his presence and his response was the biggest mistake he has ever made in the moment. "Why don--"

Tony wasn't able to finish his sentence as he gets to experience the same slap handed to him by you. Without the Super Soldier Serum, the sound of the slap resounded even louder than the former. Everyone was left in a mix of shock and the need to hold in their laughter at the shock look than now lingered on Tony's face as he rubbed his red cheek.

"As for you," you snapped pointing your finger right into Tony. "You're going to pay for both the fuckin bakery and my apartment upstairs. Of all the places Stark, you just had to throw the alien on my newly renovated bathroom."

Tony could only nod.

"Your people also need to talk to my employees, some of them are injured because a big fucking green dickhead thought it would be nice to throw alien matters into the basement like basketballs through the hoops." you snapped side-glancing towards the guilty Bruce Banner that refused to make any eye contact with you. "You're covered for their hospital bills, therapy, and two weeks of their supposed shift."

Tony gaped nodding.

"Jesus, why the fuck does it always have to be New York, better yet, why the hell does it have to be in the US? There are so many fucking countries in this world." You ranted turning your attention back to Steve that now broke into a small smile at your outburst. "You're not off the hook. We're staying here, but you're sleeping on the coach until further notice."

What smile he had now comes falling from his face. Blinking, this was a dangerous situation. Far more dangerous than his earlier encounter with the aliens only hours ago. But all he could do was nod, not knowing if any protest from him would result in a worst punishment.

"Sam," you turned to the man that now looked scared to be your focus. "Can you show me to the kitchen? I'll try making everyone someone to eat. God knows you're all starving." you request, all signs of anger now slowly dissolving from your features.

Steve didn't know what scared him more at this point, your anger or how quick you were able to recover from said anger. As Sam escorted you out of the meeting room, the rest of the team also made their way out to help you in whatever you may need in the kitchen. It now left Steve and Tony alone, practically still feeling the aftermath of your slap.

"Having second thought about proposing, Lover Boy?" Tony finally broke the awkward silence.

Taking a deep breath, the first chuckle all day finally escaped his lips.

No, he was far from having second thoughts. The engagement ring hidden in his locker room made it evident to him what he was about to do on their 2nd anniversary. It would take some convincing on your part after what happened. But you loved him enough to forgive him for what happened, since technically it wasn't really his fault why the bakery was ruined.

"The proposal is still a go, Tony." he responds finally leaving the meeting room to making his way to the kitchen, already hard at work with cooking what he assumed was spaghetti and meatballs and his favourite red velvet cake.

"Steve's not having any cake right?" Nat asked as soon as she caught sight of him.

"You know what, Romanoff--"

"Not even a fucking crumb." Your response even with you facing away from him had everyone roaring in laughter and Steve rolling his eyes even with the smile on his lips growing bigger at the situations.

The things he has to endure for love.

[chockfullofsecrets]

Because I'm always a sucker for this one: 24. “I didn’t actually want you to stop…”

did i look at a certain tag for inspiration? maybe

24. “I didn’t actually want you to stop…”

Now, Molly’s fairly sure that no sane person would call him a wet blanket, but as it turns out being cruelly abandoned by their resident hot sailor puts him about as close as he’ll get.

He’ll get over it, eventually. But he might as well be a dramatic shit in the meantime, so when Fjord falls back and nudges him in the shoulder two hours into the afternoon stretch of their last day on the road he indulges in a long, luxurious, back-cracking stretch before deigning to acknowledge his existence. “Got something to say, Captain?”

Fjord rolls his eyes to high heaven, shifting easily to walk backwards in front of him. It’s unfairly charming of him. “No, but I get the sense you’ve got plenty - you want me to ask what’s gotten into you, or do you feel like sharing?”

Molly props his chin an inch higher - Fjord’s taller than him, which, unfair, but with the extra boost he can just about leer at him along the length of his nose. “Oh? I think I’ve been rather well-behaved, actually.”

He watches Fjord’s shoulders sag, and what should be a well-deserved sense of justice curdles more like he’s just kicked something cute and fuzzy into a gutter. Fuck.

Fjord swivels to fall back into step with him - all the sword practice has been paying off, looks like - and leans in close enough to make Molly shiver in a way he’s not entirely sure is intended. Gods, he misses Yasha, it’s been a while since he’s had a good cuddle.

“Look,” Fjord murmurs, low and gruff and surprisingly quiet, “you know I’m not tryin’ to be an asshole, I really don’t get it. Last night, you were being, uh, difficult-”

Aw, he’s too nice to call him a brat outright. Molly can’t relate. “Mmm, how’s that belly of yours doing? Still deathly ticklish?”

The poor thing clears his throat, but Molly can already see his cheeks starting to darken. Cute. He’s lucky Jester didn’t get to him first, or he’d still be curled up and snickering too hard to give that silver tongue of his a single chance to save himself. “Tealeaf, you - anyway. So I gave you a taste of your own medicine, which you deserved, thanks very much, and then you were wriggling like a beached whale so I let you go.”

Molly hums. “Sounds about right.”

“And?” Fjord presses. “Care to tell me which part of that’s pissing you off?”

Fjord’s still close enough that he can feel phantom warmth prickling across his right side, and he’s been chasing that squirmy, lolling feeling since Fjord rolled off him last night and told him to behave himself as if that was going to help with anything, and even as his skin crawls with embarrassment he can’t help but spit it out. “Maybe I didn’t actually want you to stop.”

Fjord does stop, again, right there in the middle of the road and quick enough that Beau has to swerve around him with an annoyed ‘watch it!’. He blinks. “Oh.”

There’s really nothing else to say. Molly does what he always does - sticks his chin up, flicks his coat to make it billow behind him, and keeps right on going.

With all that, it’s no wonder he misses Fjord coming up behind him and throwing him over his shoulder - he’s walking, and then he’s in the air, and then there’s a shoulder in his stomach and a very fine backside inches from the tips of his horns. He barks out a surprised laugh. “What - Fjord! - I don’t think you could carry me five more yards, dear, you’d better put me down.”

“Nah, you’re not much more than a coil of rope,” Fjord says easily from somewhere up above. “Loose ends and all.”

He feels a fingertip hook around the end of his tail, brushing lightly across the tip, and-

He’s not quite sure what he does at that, but it involves a good deal of frantic giggling and clawing his way up the back of Fjord’s armor until he’s curled around his neck like Frumpkin does with Caleb. It’s cozy, he can see why the fey allows it. “Hah - oh, fuck you, that tickles, how did you know?”

“Oh, I didn’t,” Fjord tells him, and he could hear the shit-eating grin even if his face wasn’t currently smushed into Fjord’s chest plate six inches from it. “Was pretty sure this would, though.”

He puts his arm up and threads it through Molly’s, locking him in place as he works his fingertips up into his armpit. It’s absolutely not a good idea to wriggle this high up, but Molly can’t help himself as Fjord scritches a single fingertip, light and unbearable, into the hollow - he kicks, rolls his shoulders frantically from side to side, but his tail’s trapped and he can’t move his arm - Fjord’s barely moving his fingers but he’s going to dissolve - “Hhhahhh,” he whines.

Fjord laughs. “Can’t escape up there, can you? Too bad.”

It’s broad daylight, with miles of empty road stretching out around them. Molly’s never wanted to be destroyed more in his entire life. “Gods,” he chokes out. “Fjord, you fucker, if you drop me-”

Fjord starts to fiddle with his tail again. Molly shuts up.“Oh, I’ve learned my lesson, you’re not getting down until you tap out.”

He smooths his thumb back and forth across the spaded tip, and it’s bad enough that Molly nearly does just that. “Gah - hhh - eheheeee, heh-”

“Oh, there’s a thought,” Fjord muses, like Molly isn’t right there and giggling so hard that he’s shaking with it. “If I don’t let you off till we reach town, are we going to have a quiet night for once? Or do I need to get Jessie involved for that?”

Molly’s pretty sure they’re going to have to bury him right here, six feet in the air. At least that’s a nice change of pace.

[sinisterlyhan]

01. lee minho / 9486 words

fwb!minho, oral (f & m receiving), unprotexted sex, female reader, slight angst and fluff, romance, lots of kissing, mc being kind of a brat, minho being kinda dominant 

a/n: ahh, i finally wrote for minho! i hope this is good ;;

the thee bags of sugar you poured into your cup of hot coffee have probably been completely dissolved by now, considering the obsessive way you kept stirring the liquid with your teaspoon and not actually drinking it.

keeping your eyes out the glass window by the coffee booth, you allowed your mind to drift off to a familiarly foreign place as you mindlessly watched the passersby.

your lashes fluttered along with each shift of your eyes, your gaze jumping from one insignificant person to another as you accessed the idea that people are literally everywhere around you—annoying kids, depressed students, tired parents, and the slow folks.

the concept, more than often, flies past you on a daily. therefore, when you sit down and truly acknowledge the number of people you brush past every day, it is quite a staggering fact.

but what’s more bewildering than that, though, was the fact that out of all these people you could meet and think about, the only person who has ever really been on your mind was lee minho—a nice classmate, a good friend, and a few quick fucks.

a few. you heaved a lonesome sigh and replaced it with a bitter huff of laughter.

you wished it was only a few quick fucks. you should have stopped after a few of them and you should have never picked your hand up and sealed his ‘fuck buddy?’ deal with a firm handshake. but you were lonely back then, dry and lonely.

you had wanted love, genuine or not, and minho’s seductive kisses down your body were the closest thing you could get to feeling appreciated, so you made the biggest mistake of agreeing to be friends with benefits with him.

it has been half a year since you two established the relationship; the sex was frequent during the first few weeks, and then the passionate nights started to space out a little until you two spent more time with plans to hang out than to fuck each other.

your immature mind hadn’t been smart enough to fathom the idea of you ever falling in love with somebody like minho, because you knew you weren’t the type to blatantly fall for someone out of your league. it was the kick that got your to seal the contract.

but alas, minho has been more than irresistible the past few months.

he wasn’t just a fuck buddy, he has never been just that from the start of it all. nothing about your new relationship was awkward despite you two being silent classmates for so long until a house party came and messed it all up. and unlike what you expected, he never tried to distance himself to keep that sole status.

he wasn’t aloof, nor did he act like a stranger. minho was a good friend, a good classmate, and a good fuck if you may say so.

he has helped you with your classes numerous times; printing assignments last minute for you in the library because you were too sleepy to do so last night, scanning his thorough notes for you unprompted because he noticed you struggling during class, reading through your materials out of his class time just so he could further explain something to you.

he’s also been the best emotional support you’ve had; he has never complained when you unreasonably snapped at him because of too much stress, he puts up with your constant overthinking and temper tantrums, and he gets you snacks on his own grocery run because he thought you might get some cravings sometime during the day.

and, of course, the sex has never once been dull ever since you met him, but it was in a lot of the little things he does that makes your heart ache the most; it was him always making sure you’re okay, and him constantly giving you praises. how he loves to make eye contact and hold your hands. how he knows exactly when to be soft and when to be hard.

when did he stop being just minho to you, you haven’t the faintest idea. but your feelings for him have changed drastically over these amazing months, and it became your downfall because he has not contacted you for weeks.

just complete radio silence, nothing, gone.

“i’m telling you he likes you, okay?”

you rolled your eyes as you snapped out of your trance. turning your head to look at jisung, you pursed your lips and shrugged in bland disbelief. “shut up.“

“no, you shut up and listen to me,” he leaned forward on his seat, his eyes glaring because he was sick and tired of being ignored by both of his friends. but now he’s got a fifty-fifty chance of being a matchmaker, so he planned to go all out. “i have known minho for as long as my fat baby legs can waddle to the sandbox in the park, okay. and not once have i seen him run away like this.”

“this, this thing that he is doing?” his finger excitedly jammed against the surface of the table as he stared at you pointedly, emphasizing his words with each jut of his jaw. “this is serious, and what serious thing can he be afraid of?“

you waited for him to speak, but the silence he purposefully left out was urging to be filled in. you looked away, baffled, and you scrambled your mind to think of something to say.

“i don’t know? faili–“

“wrong!”

“a dise–“

“terrible answer!”

“ma–“

“zero points for yo–ow!”

“knock it off, jisung!” you scolded with annoyance after you flicked his forehead with your fingers, shoving his head back to the cushion of the booth seat. “i know what you want me to say… i just won’t say it.”

“he loves you, (name),” jisung said, hiding every bit of uncertainty behind his persuasive facade—his presentation face, as he calls it. “i really think he does.”

and he wasn’t lying. jisung gave the situation a fair share of analyzing, and he concluded with the fact that minho might just have fallen in love with you. because one thing he knew about minho was that while he is kind, he is not nice.

there is a distinctive difference; kindness is selective, it is earned, it is given by choice. nice is blind, it is a mindless thought, a moral conscious.

anything that goes between minho and his goal, or his dignity, or some dramatic factors as such, minho will not hesitate to lash out. he is kind, not nice.

and you—you’ve been plucking the kindness out of him like he was a river that could never run dry.

disrupting his study schedule to tutor you? ditching his long-term friends to keep you company? apologizing first and being the bigger person in petty arguments?

minho was good to you when he didn’t have to, and he still was kind to you when he didn’t want to. he wanted to keep you happy, he gets the thrill of being able to take care of you, and you can feel comfortable around him.

jisung would even go so far to say minho was head over heels for you now, with his heart bleeding dry for your sake. and he’s running away from it because the concept, the feeling was foreign to him.

“just go to his house, find him. he probably misses you like crazy,” he urged tentatively. “talk it out, or fuck it out if that’s what you guys are used to.”

“do you think it’s that easy? like i can just go up to his home and kiss him?“ you asked, exasperated that jisung didn’t seem to understand the limitation of your tolerance for humiliation and appearing desperate to other people.

“sure, why not! i’d totally do that if i were you!” he boasted, clapping his fist to his chest as he huffed through his nose. “it’s not like he isn’t jerking off to the thought of you anyway! it’s either that or he’s crying himself to sleep at night!”

“that’s…” your voice awkwardly trailed off.

“too much?”

“no, no, just…” you hummed with a slight shake of your head, unable to break through his innocent gaze and not sure how to tell him you missed seeing minho in his naked glory. so instead, you chose to back down. “nothing.”

you blinked, still processing his previous words in your head as you finally brought your coffee up to your mouth to take a short sip.

the sugary taste was barely seeping into the bitterness of your coffee, the last three bags of sugar you added having done nothing to help you savor the taste. and you thought about how minho would probably switch his drink with you or offer to order you a new one if he was here.

jisung watched as you put down your cup and reached for another bag of sugar. he laughed, shifting his legs and leaning against the back of the booth. “the sugar is bad for you.”

“i know,” you muttered as you shook the bag and let the content spill all over your drink.

jisung watched with nonchalance as you picked up your metal spoon and started stirring your coffee again. and he didn’t say a single word.

minho pushed his glasses perched upon the bridge of his nose, and he continued with his note-taking as his eyes focused on the massive text displayed on his laptop screen.

it was all he has done this day. right after morning classes, he headed out for lunch by himself and simply went home. he tried to ignore the stubborn unfamiliarity of spending most of his time alone, hoping the ghost of your voice would eventually stop haunting his heavy steps into the local boba shop, or even just to the edge of his bed when he decided to take a short nap.

he woke up alone, dazed and annoyed. but he was mostly tired; tired of being alone when he knew you were a call away, tired of drowning in chosen solidarity because he wasn’t brave enough to confront his feelings, tired of being scared that you wouldn’t return the affection his heart discreetly held for you.

it was very unlike him, and the change was frustrating. minho never thought himself to succumb to romance yet here he was, making bad decisions and pushing you away when all he wanted was to hold your body close.

the uneven grip on his pen caused him a sudden scrape across the lined-paper. he glanced down the rogue tweak of the letter 'r’ and he clicked his tongue. dropping the pen, he rummaged through his crowded pencil case for a white-out, just in time as the doorbell to his apartment rang.

he furrowed his brows as he perked up, his head turning to look behind his shoulder at the door. discarding the matter at hand, he stood up and made his way to the front door, where he sung the door open and immediately revealed you standing before him.

“hi,” you breathed out when you met eyes with him, your gaze hardening slightly in sudden timidity.

minho gave you a quick scan before he nodded. he, too, feeling rather awkward at what felt like a confrontation to him. “hey.“

“can i come in, or are you going to keep shutting me out?” you laughed meekly, pointing into his apartment and letting your eyes move away from him briefly before returning to his face. “i’m already here anyway, you might as well.”

“i… yeah, sure, come in,” he said, taking a step aside as he opened the door for you. he watched you head inside, kicking your shoes off and shoving them to the side. he eyed the plastic cup in your hand, and he attempted to make light conversation out of it. “you got coffee?”

“oh, yeah. i was hanging out with jisung just then,” you said, turning to face him. you stuck your hand out, giving him the cup. “do you wanna try some?”

“no, i’m good.” he waved his hand.

you looked at him, a faint pout forming on your face before you shrugged and brought the straw up to your mouth. “okay then, it’s probably better for you anyway,” you sipped the coffee, “i dumped like… six bags of sugar in it.”

the change of facial expressions on his face was priceless. he went from processing your words in confusion, then his eyes widened in surprise, and at last his brows furrowed in dismay that you were still sipping the drink like you didn’t just turn it into a liquefied candy cane.

“okay, no, i’m confiscating it,” he said after allowing you a few more obnoxious sip. he grabbed the cup away from you and held it out of your reach, ignoring your continuous protest. “do you know how unhealthy that is?”

“yes, but it’s sweet!“ you complained.

“it’s sweet until you get type-two diabetes.” He rolled his eyes, turning around and heading over to the fridge located in the open area where the kitchen was. “especially when you don’t just drink one cup of coffee every other week, you drink it several times a week, which can toll up to a lot of sugar intake and i am not about to let you run around self-sabotaging your health–”

he stopped talking when he turned away from the fridge and immediately saw you standing before him. the proximity of your faces was a little too close for his liking—not his subconscious, just his stubbornness—and he didn’t know what to do when he was confronted with it so abruptly.

he hasn’t seen you in some time, which gave him no opportunity to create such intimacy. and even though he had missed being able to feel comfortable with you being close, he suddenly didn’t know what to do. he would love to keep his emotions in check, and he would love to not spill secrets he had no intention to tell.

you glanced down to his lips and automatically huffed. jisung’s words flew back into your mind then, telling you to just kiss him now that you’ve made a mistake of stepping into his personal bubble. it wasn’t like minho was actively pushing you out anyway. you could just try, and if it doesn’t work out in your favor, you could just play it off.

a gasp left his chest when you suddenly leaned in and kissed him. your hands went up to cup his jaw, bringing him closer to you when you felt him starting to reciprocate the kiss. you have longed to do this for so long, sometimes it felt like you’d forget the way his lips feel if you go without it for one more day.

the nervousness within was slowly started to vanish, but part of your brain registered how minho wasn’t kissing you with the same vigor he used to whenever you two share a kiss. it felt out of place to feel his mouth move so slowly against your own, and it was not in a harmonious way.

his lips slacked against yours because his brain wasn’t functioning well. minho has missed you more than ever and this—this was practically a dream come true! he was finally kissing you again, and he wanted nothing more than to keep going, to put roam his hands all over you again.

but he couldn’t. he couldn’t allow himself more depths to fall for you, he couldn’t keep digging his own grave with uncertainty and doubt.

he would rather guarantee he can still be friends with you after sorting out his feelings, than risk you not returning his affection and jeopardizing your comfortable relationship.

“w–wait, (name)–stop–” he pulled away from you, taking in a breath of fresh air when his lips detached from yours. the air was eerily cold, he didn’t like it at all.

your hands dropped from his face, your heart sinking to your stomach the same way. that was enough indication—him pushing you off pretty much told you everything you needed to know about how he felt, and god, you felt so conflicted at the discovery.

you were mad at yourself for letting him allow so much control over you. the sheer anger that bubbled in your chest when you felt tears brimming at the back of your eyes was immeasurable. you warned yourself about this, you warned yourself about him, yet you still fell. and now you felt weak and hopeless because he didn’t love you back.

you also felt wronged somehow. the fact that minho has been such a kind friend to you has given you the false assumption that he would at least give you an explanation. if he didn’t want to keep the sexual relationship, he should have just been truthful to you instead of trying to ghost you for weeks and leaving you to your lonely thoughts.

but you wouldn’t have cared if you didn’t like him. him ignoring you wouldn’t have been a problem if you didn’t fall for him.

“what is your fucking problem, minho?” you asked, your anger boiling up. but despite that, your voice was more leveled than ever, as if you were exhausted. it was all being suppressed in your chest, burning and rotting away.

you smiled at him a little, the forced kind of smile, and you sarcastically laughed when you spoke, “if you got bored of me, you could have just said so.”

minho opened his mouth, surprised. but the light glimmer behind your eyes created a new kind of chaos in his head. he has seen you cry before, and this time it was all him.

“i–no, that wasn’t the problem, i just–”

“did i do something then? are you mad at me, or something like that?“ you cut him off with a scoff, shaking your head slightly as you frowned at him. “because you left me alone for weeks. you were a terrible friend to me, and i had no idea if it was me or you.”

“i’m not bored of you, (name). neither am i mad at you,” he replied quickly, sighing as he looked at you with softened eyes. “it's—something personal happened, nothing was your fault.”

you pursed your lips together, feeling slightly less agitated as your questions slowly got resolved one by one. “what is it, then? what happened to you?“

“i…” i fell in love with you.

you waited for seconds for him to talk but all minho could do was look down at the floor, fearing for what would happen to you and him if he ever told the truth. a sigh left your lips at his silence, disappointed that he couldn’t give you a proper answer.

“fine, don’t tell me,” you said, turning around to leave the kitchen area.

“hey, wait, where are you going?” he followed suit, panic flooding into his eyes.

“away from you,” you muttered as you put on your shoes. “don’t worry about seeing me again, i won’t bother you anymore.”

minho hasn’t realized he was unintentionally ruining the relationship until this point. in his attempt to keep his feelings secured and hidden, all to prevent the breakage of your friendship, he failed to notice the damage all the avoiding did to it.

now you were planning to leave him forever, to walk out and completely cut him out of your life. and oh, he was scared. he could not bear to never seeing you again, or even just to stomach the thought of you hating him because of his stupidity.

“wait, no, hold on–” he grabbed ahold of your hand when you grabbed the doorknob. before you could fling him away, he turned you around to face him and, impulsively, grabbed your face to crash his lips against yours.

yes, crash. with the amount of force he was using, the word crash would deem fit. you tried to push him away from you, but your little fists were futile to his broad chest, and soon enough he had you weak at the weeks with the exasperating way he was kissing you.

you could taste this one, his emotions were vivid at the tip of his tongue as he finally learned to surrender himself into you. he was desperate, he was lustful, he was burning at the tips of his skin just to kiss you like there is nothing else he could mean more than this exact moment.

when he pulled away, he leaned his forehead against yours and looked into your eyes. it was intimidating and confrontational, everything he thought he couldn’t handle now being pierced through his action so he could prove a point.

“i didn’t…” he shook his head. “i’m so sorry for ignoring you, i did it because i… i didn’t want to ruin our friendship… because i realize i won’t be able to fall out of love with you if we keep being friends, if we keep sleeping together.”

that took such a drastic turn. you never thought things would turn out this way for you, but here minho was, looking so deeply into your eyes and telling you he avoided you because he was scared his love would ruin your friendship. what a damned miracle!

“you… you coward, stupid, dumb, annoying–” you lightly punched him across the chest, feeling such staggering relief that you felt like crying. “you didn’t even give me a fighting chance, you just assumed i won’t like you back.”

“i know, i’m sorry.”

“you didn’t even try to drop hints, how was i suppose to let you know i love you back?”

“i know, baby girl, i’m sorry.”

the shock within him vanished quickly. he didn’t have the time to express his delight the way he would want to. you were standing before him in all your glory—beautiful, genuine, emotional.

and he wanted you with him in a way that was much closer than this.

nudging his nose against yours, minho let his lips meet yours at a slower pace this time. he was gentle with you, his arms holding at the side of your waist to pull you closer as you two kissed.

your hands flew to circle his neck as you stumbled out of your untied shoes and into his chest. minho let himself linger on your lips for a while before he started to trail his kisses down your jaw.

your neck was a territory he has marked many times before, and he never fails to make sure he adds something new every time his lips touch the skin. his teeth grazed past your neck before he met at the crook of it, and he obnoxiously sucked a dark bruise on your skin just so you would whimper in surprise.

sigh—how he missed that whimsical little sound. it was always so heavenly to hear, even when the action that caused it was more than devilish.

he marked his way back up to your lips when his fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt. he slipped his hand under it, his palm touching your bare skin for a brief second before he retreated them to clutch at the fabric of your shirt.

“can i take your shirt off, baby?” he mumbled into your mouth, his hand already raising slightly in anticipation.

you nodded, raising your arms as he complied and pulled your shirt up. you two broke apart to allow it to go through before leaning back toward each again. minho discarded your shirt off to the ground, his hands couldn’t wait to finally meet with your torso.

he kissed you fervently, his fingers holding the same amount of enthusiasm as they glided past the small curve of your waist. up and down, a faint squeeze to hold you in place, and then he pushed you forward so your back hit the door.

putting a hand between the back of your head and the hard surface, minho reluctantly pulled away from you, this time with no intention to dive back to your lips again because of all the other access to your body you’ve given him.

he breathed heavily, his voice growing raspy. “i’m gonna make it up to you.”

“i expect you to,” you replied boldly, causing him to raise his brow.

that was not something you would otherwise say in a situation like this. minho would have put you in your place if you ever attempted to give him an attitude. but he planned to let it slide this time, after all, he did hurt your feelings and he was at fault here.

“good.” was all he said before he started to move down your body.

his lips met at your collarbones, then to your chest where he skipped over your bra and went straight down to your stomach. he planted light kisses all over your skin, his tongue occasionally swiping across to wet up your body a little more.

he was kneeling before you by the time his hands met the waist of your pants, and he looked up with brows raising teasingly at you as his hands circled to the front. his fingers carefully popped open the button before they hooked through the belt loops and slowly pulled them down to your ankle.

your knees trembled at the touch of his hands, gliding up and down the back of your thighs and ever so slightly tugging you toward him. your breath hitched in your throat when he leaned up to kiss your clothed core, the sudden touch sending a surprise jolt across your mind.

foreign but familiar—it just came too sudden. you hadn’t realized this was actually happening until your panties were dragged past your thighs, the cold air a stinging proof that you’re with minho right now, and his lips were getting dangerously close to where you’ve been aching to have him these past weeks.

his hands curled around your legs, gripping your flesh firmly to keep them apart as he liked it. he moved up your inner-thighs. he continued to send tingly sensations all over your body until he stopped for a second, as if waiting for a dramatic effect, for a lingering thought to vanish before he latched his lips to your pussy.

his tongue darted out to lick between your folds, feeling the wetness gathering at your entrance upon the pleasuring stimulation. your moan went straight into ears, lighting up the delight inside him, and he continued to lather himself all over your cunt, wasting no time to poke his tongue in and out of you rhythmically.

you grabbed a messy chunk of his hair, pulling at it as you desperately tried to rust against his face, taunting him to shove his tongue deeper inside your heat. the position made your legs feel sore, and the mere attempt to grind down on him was just difficult, but you could take none of those into mind that when his mouth mercilessly sucked at your clit until it was red and swollen.

he was luxuriating himself in you—in your taste, in your voice, in your movement. your essence dripping past his tongue in a slurpy motion, your walls clenching at the digits he had graciously slipped into your heat, and ecstasy took your voice up into a milky whine when his teeth barely grazed past your clit as he sucked at you.

the heat in your chest expanded and engulfed itself all over your body. without yourself even realizing, your legs have moved apart to give minho more access to touch you even more.

“fuck, minho, please!” you exclaimed, your head hitting against the door.

ahh, you still know how to beg. perhaps not as profusely as he would have wanted you to but you were polite nonetheless. not to mention, your fingers scratching through his soft locks was enough indication that he was doing a splendid job. and he couldn’t wait to hear more of you, to feel more of you.

moving his face down to your heat, he drove his tongue inside you once again while his thumb went to press circles on your throbbing clit. you let out a choked moan, the sudden change of stimulation a very pleasant surprise, and he has your climax pinned at his mouth in no time.

gathering up your juices into his mouth, minho finally pulled away from you and stood up. he didn’t bother to wipe your essence off his lips, he just went straight for your mouth as he pressed his lips against yours. and you were in too big of a haze to distinguish the taste of yourself and his saliva, still trying to come down from the orgasm you’ve missed having from him.

minho brought his hand up to your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb carefully as he contemplated his next move. perhaps he was putting a little pressure on himself to make sure this encounter would be perfect, because he thought it somehow needed to be after hurting your feelings.

but part of him also ached for a good fuck after so long. not just with anybody but with you. the scorching desire in his chest would ultimately fuel his instincts today, and maybe he’d not be able to keep his cool when he could finally be inside you.

just the thought of it made his insides burst. he should have never distanced himself from you. it was such a stupid idea.

“up,” minho commanded as he leaned down to tug at your thighs. and you listened to him, jumping up so he could catch you around his waist, your arms going around his neck as your lips moved past his face to run freely down his neck.

you were enjoying the feeling of his skin, kissing him all over in ways you wished you had been able to. your teeth bit down harder when you heard his tiny giggle at your almost amateur attempt on leaving him a hickey, a frown appearing on your face at the fact that he wasn’t taking you seriously.

he brought both of you over to the couch and he dropped you down on the surface, his body quickly hovering over yours as he got onto the couch as well. you looked up at him, your eyes smiling funnily in a way that made him pause his movement. 

this was supposed to be a heated moment, yet somehow a single quirk of your lips was able to make his walls crumble.

“what’s so funny?” he asked, pinching your waist and causing you to squeal at the itch.

“nothing! it’s just…” you reached down for his hand and brought it up to your face, kissing his rough knuckles as you smiled at him. “i’ve missed you, that’s all.”

minho wavered, the glint behind his eyes dimming with a sense of being completely enamored. at the way your lips would smile, at the way your gaze held all of him, even just at how your smaller hand gripped his own. he was so infatuated, he could see no end to it.

“i’m sorry for suddenly leaving you,” he said, leaning down by dropping onto his forearm. your fingers still clung into his palm when he moved it up to your chin, his thumb tracing the tip of it before it moved up to your lips. “i promise i won’t do it again.”

his thumb traced your lower lip, a movement so sensual that you couldn’t think about much of anything else. just the mere fact that you got him back, and that he too has fallen in love with you, was enough to make you drop every ounce of your sanity.

you felt like you’ve got all you need already.

“kiss me, minho,” you pleaded quietly, opening your mouth more so his thumb would shift across your teeth.

he felt your legs move underneath his body, pressing together in a squirm. and he knew you wanted him between them, he knew you were waiting for him to pull them apart instead of doing it on your own. because everything needs to be done by his hands, that has always been the way you two worked, and you would obey him with ease.

flashes of your naked body came before his face. flashes he imagined when he was alone at night, trying miserably to replace you with a toy, or sometimes even himself. his lids dropped as he shifted to look down at your body, soft and awaiting his instructions, and he lightly growled to himself.

impatience suddenly took over him then, the previous moment gone in a blink of an eye. he leaned down to capture your lips, his hands going to your knees to spread them apart so he could place himself right in the middle.

you complied with him, kissing him back and tugging at his shirt as a signal that you wanted it off his body. minho huffed through his nose, slightly annoyed that he has to break away from you but he quickly yanked the collar of the shirt and pulled it over his head.

the flex of his arms was visible as he did so, and your eyes widened shyly without looking away. god, you’ve always loved the way he was built—just muscular enough to ogle at and not too much that they become uncomfortably distracting.

having second thoughts after seeing his toned chest, you decided to sit up from your spot and pushed your hands against him. minho frowned at you, his voice silent but his head-tilt asking a thousand questions. he was going to kiss you, why have you stopped him!

you grinned as you pushed him back, using your body weight to make him fall to the other side of the couch until he was under you this time. you laid on top of him, your small frame trapped between his legs as your head right at the crook of his neck.

minho was about to verbally ask you for your intention, but his eyes rolled up into a close when you kissed his neck. your hands roamed across his chest, your nails dragging ghostly against his skin in an unrecognized pattern as you peppered your kisses and kitten licks all over him.

he sighed in content, feeling your lips on every inch of his body, hot and loving. and he loved being treated this way, like he was being worshipped, like he was a god and you some mere peasant who had to rely on him for a living.

“(name),” he said, his voice sharp as he opened his eyes.

you perked up at him from the waist of his pants, your hands teasingly located near the middle. they had been scattered all over his abdomen, touch here and rubbing there, but never once did they meet at the middle where the obvious bulge of his pants was.

looking at his unsatisfied expression, you could only feel a sense of amusement as you pouted. your lashes fluttered up at him as you scooted back a little for better access. your smile was unfading when you leaned the lower side of your cheek right on top of his clothed member.

“what?” you asked, your smile widening at the hiss he let out.

“stop teasing me,” he said.

“hmm…” you pursed your lips, your finger dragging past his thigh to your face, then you palmed down on the shape of his member. “but it’s so fun.”

for someone with a waterfall dripping past your lips, you sure could find some time to be bratty like this.

rolling his eyes, his tongue poked at his inner-cheek as he turned away for a brief moment. when he looked at you again, his gaze was less hooded than it was amused. but it wasn’t your kind of amused. it wasn’t playful but degrading, the glimmer of it making you shiver.

“you want to say that again, baby?” he asked, his hand moving down to your head. he gently ran his fingers through your hair before he tugged at your scalp, his action light but not without harshness in it.

you whimpered under your breath, your brows furrowing helplessly as your head tilted to the side. “no.”

“good girl.” he released your hair then, gesturing toward himself. he nodded at you, smirking, “keep going.”

you didn’t mess around this time. your hand reached to the rubber waistband and easily pulled his sweats down to his thighs. you scooted your body up, your mouth salivating at the mere sight of his clothed member. you quickly tugged down his boxers, letting his cock spring out before you carefully grabbed its base.

minho sucked in a deep breath at your touch, your small hand covering around the base of his shaft. he closed his eyes with a blissful sigh when your lips finally touched his tip, giving him a little kiss before pressing them against him to dart your tongue over his slit.

licking past his red tip, you trailed your tongue over his shaft once before you went back up to his tip. then you finally took him in your mouth, your head bobbing up and down at regular speed as your hand rubbed the uncovered area.

minho groaned, his hand quickly flying down to your head. he let it lay there, only wanting something for him to hold onto as you sucked him off. great pleasure released from his abdomen, spreading all across his body as you hollowed your cheeks and licked him up as your head moved.

he opened his eyes to look down at you. for a second, you were focused on keeping him in your mouth, but you seemed to have felt his eyes on you so you glanced up at him.

he cursed at your wide-eyed, innocent—well, as innocent as you could look with his dick in your mouth, at least—expression then. his chest doing a flip as you slowly dragged your lips up to his tip to add stimulation to it, the smooching sounds you let out deafening to his ears.

there was something about your facade. it was the way he knew you were just putting up a naive front to rile him up, looking as pure as possible as your lips printed a smile on the top of his shaft, your tongue still poking out to lick him irregularly as if you get to be in control here.

(and, yes, to a certain level you do have control. to a maximum level, you have his utmost attention and all of his heart.)

holding onto the base of his cock, you tilted your head to the side and squinted your eyes mischievously at him. dragging the side of his tip against your cheek slowly, you let out a lewd hum, something like a relieved moan but it didn’t lack a tinge of questioning noise in it, and you watched him as if waiting for his patience to crack, waiting for his tough walls to fall beneath your feet.

he was falling. his face didn’t much show it, and either did his muscles tense under your body weight. but minho was completely surrendered to you; how could he not? you’re such a pretty thing, your warm mouth feeling heavenly as they moved up and down his shaft in an agonizingly slow pace.

his breathing was elevated now, he could feel his chest suffocating with deep arousal, and he wanted nothing more to have your walls wrapped around him now. forget your lips, he needed the tightness around him.

“okay, no,” minho spoke after a moment of thought. he attempted to sit up, his hands moving out to grab at your elbows. “you, get up, now.”

you listened to him, sitting up from your spot while he pulled at your arm. you followed his lead, letting him bring you onto his lap where you heat met with his hardened member. The confusion that once lingered in your head immediately faded away when you felt his girth snug between your folds, a whimper leaving your lips excitedly as you grind down on his member, wanting more friction out of a mere touch.

minho huffed, a tingly sensation fixated at his abdomen. his movements were beginning to get hasty but he has a general direction of what he wanted to do. he wanted you, that was all he knew. and with you sitting prettily on top of him, his mind knew exactly what he had to do despite the pitter-pattering of his heart.

although clumsy, he was precise when he gabbed you by your waist and hoisted you up with your help. he moved his hand down to hold up his dick, angling it right at your entrance before he glanced up at you through his tousled hair.

his eyes were striking, dazzling you as he waited for permission to handle you. you weren’t able to say much, a knot present at the back of your throat that could only be released when you could finally feel full again, full of him. so instead of talking, you brought your hands to your sides where his laid, and you lightly spread your knees further apart to drop onto his cock.

minho moaned lowly, feeling the warmth of your entrance as his tip got lathered up with your essence. he took that as a green light, and with a tightened grip on your skin, he guided you to sink on his length by pushing your body lower and lower until you were sat with him stuck within your walls.

your eyes shut when you felt his stretch, opening you up so deliciously that you needed a moment to breathe. you took all of him in you, his length a pleasantly erotic sensation inside your cunt that even a small scratch of friction could get your head all fuzzed up in a dream.

you felt full, oh so very full, in the most delightful way possible. you felt like smiling when you adoringly looked at him, because you loved him so and you didn’t think you could get this back again. your walls unconsciously clenched around him when you felt like shifting your position a little, and the little breathy sounds he let out a kind of music you adored.

he stared back at you after the sudden commotion and his heart melted. your faint smile was an undeserved treasure you somehow decided to grant him on a daily, and the fact that you always made him feel so snug and good, both chastely and sexually, was nothing short of a miracle.

his hand slipped from your waist to lace through yours, holding you softly as lust blossomed in his eyes.

it has always been the two of you who could make each other feel this way. the thrill of first love, the nostalgia of being intimate, the fear of losing one another—no wonder you two fell in love, it was a match made in heaven.

he brought you down to kiss him, and your arms instinctively flew around his neck. you allowed him a second of solace before pulling away just enough to speak, your voice small with praise. “fuck, you feel so good.”

he laughed, biting at your jaw where his face got draped over by the falling of your hair. “good, but i’m about to feel even better,” he whispered before reattaching his lips to yours. between the tangled lips, you could hear a needy whine sounding from the back of his threat, and you giggled into his mouth. he wanted you to move.

you carefully brought yourself up, your walls scraping past his cock in the process and catching up a burn. then, slowly but still at a non-torturous pace, you lowered yourself back down on him. you kept up with the speed, going up and down on his lap and moaning with every new stretch of your walls.

minho’s hands slipped from yours to caress all over your body, touching you gingerly as if you were his pretty porcelain doll. when his hands met your chest, he gave a small frown at the bra that was still attached to your body, and he quickly unhooked it to expose you completely.

your thighs stuttered when you felt him clamp his palm over your breast, the sudden jolt of pleasure hitting your head. his hands moved to cup your side, his thumbs reaching to press against your nipples and twirling circles with it. then he leaned forward to take your perky bud into his mouth after kissing around the bouncy area, licking your milky smooth skin before his tongue swiped across your nipple.

he kissed across your chest, his lips unable to remove from your skin as you relentlessly moved up and down on him. the plethora of pleasure, the immeasurable amount of enjoyment manifesting into this electrifying sensation all across your veins. it was all from the way minho felt so good inside you, and the passionate touch of his mouth on your everywhere.

“ahh–min–” you hugged him close with a sudden scream, only able to utter his name halfway. the jolt had knocked the air out of your lungs when his cock brushed against your sweet spot, making your knees buckle weakly and your movement halting to a messy rhythm.

minho raised a brow, feeling playful upon seeing your drastic reaction. he pulled away from your face, his eyes searching for your face. “hmm? min–what?”

you furrowed your brows then, a blush escaping to your cheeks at his seductive voice. as you struggled to keep up with the thrusts, you pursed your lips together and flashed minho a soft grimace before you squeezed your eyes shut again at the sensation. you didn’t plan on finishing your cut off sentence and you just wanted to keep hitting the sweet spot over and over again, because god, it made you feel so, so good.

but minho wanted otherwise. unfortunately, he has the upper hand here. he wasn’t the one who’s been moving rigorously the past minutes, he still got lots of stamina stored up for him to hold you in place. you whined when he did, his hands pushing down on your hips to prevent you from sliding up his dick.

you looked at him, your eyes wide as sweat glistened on your forehead, sticking the hair to your pretty skin. the arousal was dripping inside you, aching to be moved around, longing to be penetrated.

hoping to gain an ounce of sympathy, you pouted with a slump of your shoulders and pleaded, “minho, please.”

“hmm,” he squinted his eyes, lightly snapping his hips deeper into you. “please…? please what, baby.”

you clenched your fists, feeling the annoying pain of his slow, slow thrusts. part of you wanted to see how long he could keep up with this, this burningly slow pace. but hellish ache at your pussy overshadowed your tendency to be bratty and childish. all you wanted was to feel the pleasure again, so you begged as he wanted you to.

“please fuck me, minho,” you asked, desperation pumping out of your mouth like gold, “please fuck me–your cock feels good, i–i want more!”

minho laughed lowly, the moany sound hiding under the edge of his voice when he saw how you struggled to speak. the heat on your cheeks adding to the overall flair of his sight, your bare appearance the greatest art he’s ever laid his eyes on. and your words made him soar off the moon, you needy little thing! you’d break yourself with embarrassment to keep feeling the euphoric feeling only he could make you feel, wouldn’t you?

how pathetically adorable. maybe he should help you out a little, the moment a silent fulfillment to his own desire to pound himself quicker into you.

he gripped your hips tighter by digging his nails into your skin and he helped you up on his length. he waited for a moment before he forced your fragile body down on his cock, earning a chocked strangled whimper from you. he continued in a regular rhythm. occasionally, he would push his hips up to meet with your pussy, adding to the strength of the pound and making your moan louder with the strike.

you let loose of your muscles when you felt that you’ve lost the control, and you pressed yourself closer to him in hopes to regain the previous position. the magnified gratification came unknowingly like a ghost, his dick finally able to find your g-spot again, and this time stayed haunting you with every slick thrust.

as your pussy started to salivate more with each snap of your hips, the squelching noise was also becoming harder to ignore. it mixed in with your heavy breaths, the sound of sex reverberating around you both, and you could feel your orgasm approaching inch by inch, threatening your release.

minho was watching you carefully, his eyes fixated on your face as he observed every little movement. your jaw hung open at the constant moaning, your eyes barely able to open clearly because of the overwhelming sensation—everything about you made him feel confident, possibly even narcissistic at some point.

but he really enjoyed the fact that you succumb to him so easily, and you shamelessly showed it through your body without even knowing.

he wondered if you knew you were clenching incredibly tightly around his cock. it didn’t seem to be a conscious action, considering how you could barely string a coherent sentence together. judging by that, though, minho knew your climax was approaching close, and he planned to get you to it with as much care as possible.

pulling you off him suddenly, he sat up quickly and pushed you on your back. he hovered over your body, only laying on top of you after he re-inserted himself inside of you. your legs went around his hips, bringing him closer by the back while he leaned his head down to briefly kiss your neck.

“hey,” he smiled, his hand caressing through your hair as he looked down at you with soft eyes.

you raised your brows at him, silent breathes huffing in and out of your nose as he started to thrust into you again. you touched his face, squeezing his cheeks with a smile. “what?”

minho was right. he does feel closer to you like this.

his eyes shifted down to your lips and back up into your eyes. affection engulfed him quickly, it does every time he stares into your eyes. he gets reminded of the way he fell in love with you again and again whenever he does.

and he never minded the constant reminder. he enjoyed the process. it was a lot of emotional talks, playful banter, and a lot of good sex. all of which he felt like he could have with you for the rest of his life, he wanted to have with you for the remaining of his stupid lifetime.

he unconsciously pounded deeper into you then, his mind wanting you to feel all of him to the rawest sense. you moaned at the sudden change of force but you welcomed it by opening your legs a little more for him.

your toes were curling after a few more hard thrusts, your stomach churning impossibly at the way his cock felt sliding in and out of you. when you felt the tightening feeling in your chest, you looked up at minho and grabbed his hand, huffing out hastily, “min–minho, i’m close.”

“i know,” he hummed loving at you, picking up his pace to bring you over the edge.

you arched your back at the feeling, a silent scream leaving your mouth. he pinned your hands to the side of your head, his hands hugging your small ones, and when your head moved back down to face him, he wasted no time to put his lips on yours again.

god, it was like he literally cannot keep himself off you.

your mind was getting foggy. you weren’t sure whether it was from the passionately way he kissed or from the burn between your legs, but you felt like you couldn’t quite process anything clearly anymore. well, anything except for one thing.

when minho pulled away, he kept himself close. his lips were grazing against yours but he wasn’t close enough to kiss you. and you could feel his lips move against yours ghostly when he whispered, “i love you.”

you processed that one. the words hit you really strongly too, your heart practically sunk up to your throat at them. you wanted to say it back, you planned to say it back, but you only sucked in a strong breath when minho rammed against the sweet spot in you. your eyes rolled back at the unprecedented attack and your back lifted off the couch once again.

“oh fuck–minho, please, please–ahh!”

he continued with a few more harsh thrusts before you released around his cock with a whine, your hands tightening around his at the pleasure. he had his head buried at the crook of your neck, his hips continued to move as he drowned himself in the scent of your body. he was chasing his own high now, his cock twitching inside your warm hold as he pounded into you.

your walls slurped him up, tightening around him to add stimulation. and when he felt like he was about to come undone, he quickly pulled out of you and sat up. his hand moved to his cock, quickly pumping along his length as his eyes trained on your sweaty, delicate body.

you looked at him before slowly sitting up, you went on all fours and crawled closer to him before positioning your face before his cock. minho shakily breathed out a sigh when you nudged your face against his tip, then you stopped at your opened mouth, waiting for him to pour himself over your tongue.

“ugh, you’re gonna swallow me, baby girl?” he hissed out, and he bit his lower lip when you nodded, widening your eyes naively at him.

he groaned, his abdomen tightening at the mere sight of you, hot cum sprouting out of his slit and landing on your stuck-out tongue. you held your breath, feeling the liquid dripping past your tongue before taking it back into your mouth and rolling it around. when you looked back up at minho, you grinned a little and stuck your tongue out at him.

his lips twitted at the sticky substance lingered on the tip, little lines stretching from your lips to your tongue. fuck, you filthy thing! how dare you make his heart all disheveled and gone.

“fuck, you’re so hot,” he muttered under his breath as you sat back on your heels.

you laughed, wiping your mouth and swallowing the last of him. “thank you, you’re not so bad yourself.”

he rolled his eyes then, the corner of his lips turning up into a graceful smile. he tackled you to the couch then, your hot body pressed against yours, but the atmosphere was more romantically chaste than sexual this time. you two were just two lovers naked in each others’ arms, putting complete and utter faith in each other that you would be held safe.

you two went quiet, basking in the silence. but you could hear him, his heart and his skin, pumping and brushing along yours.

would you have thought of this months ago when you first met minho? no. you have dreamt of it, but you never thought it could be true. and the dream was shattered when he suddenly decided to ghost you weeks ago.

but it didn’t matter now. you were here with him, he was holding you tightly like it was the only thing he knew to do.

“i meant to say it back,” you broke the silence first, “i love you too.”

despite knowing the answer already, minho still breathed out a sigh of relief anyway. he pressed a kiss to your head, his eyes closing calmly as he nodded. “i know.”

you smiled. minho has been a lot of things—a nice classmate, a good friend, and a few quick fucks. but you never indulged in the idea of you and him together. the idea that minho could be you and him together, that he could be a partner, a boyfriend.

the idea that minho could be an ‘us.’

[angelguk]

→ i could be enough — a jeongguk scenario

member: jeon jeongguk

word count: 3.3k

genre: smut + stoner!jk + very in love jk + very in love oc + i like pining aus i think that’s clear now lmao + pwp honestly + sumbody needs to admit there damn feelings GOD + fwbs au

warnings: oral sex (f receiving and m receiving ) / unprotected sex / creampie / handjob / sub!gukkie for a bit / rawing it for the first time hehe / drug usage (a lil weed) / not edited bare with me

soundtrack: apocalypse, cigarettes after sex  

It feels different tonight. Jeongguk can’t pinpoint it but he knows that something in his small universe has shifted. Even the weed that settles in his lungs feels different, burning low in the back of his throat every time he sneaks a drag from the joint that sits between his fingertips. The change doesn’t alarm him though, nothing can – not when he has this gentle buzz simmering in his blood. He doesn’t even realise his eyes have fluttered closed until you turn the handle on his bathroom door and step into his room, the white light that floods his dark room blinding. He blinks into it, cheeks unreasonably room and the heartbeat bruising his ribs dangerous. There’s something angelic about the way your flit into his room, the shirt you’d stolen from his closet gingerly billowing around your frame. But then you shut the door, halting the glow that illuminates your figure and Jeongguk is left wondering why his palms are clammy.

“Why are you half-naked?” You murmur, the slur in your words making his heart skip. And then you’re crawling on top of him, situating yourself neatly over the bulge in his pants that Jeongguk wasn’t fully aware of until your heat surrounds it, and he swears his heart stops. He takes another hit before he discards the joint on the edge of his ashtray, hoping the rush that flows through his body calms his nerves a little. It doesn’t.

“I was hot,” He eventually retorts, brain slow and his mouth dry. If it was pressed against yours it wouldn’t be. And when your boldly run your fingertips along the dark inking that lines his skin, Jeongguk nearly leans over and does it. But something holds him back, a funny weight sitting on his chest. You’re not close like that – not close enough to just want to kiss each other whenever you’re yearning too. Your relationship is strictly just smoking up together, which sometimes has led to fumbling in the sheets because you get horny when you’re high and Jeongguk finds you too pretty to say no. But never just kissing.

Jeongguk doesn’t know why he wants to just kiss you.

He blames it on the weed. (He knows it’s not because of the weed).

But to satiate the need that consumes his heart he settles his hands on your waist, choking back a low groan when you roll your hips into him, the friction almost sinful. He never gets hard this quick but something about you wearing his shirt, sitting so obediently on his lap and the remnants of your smoke session filling his room is doing something to him. And he’s not opposed to it at all. 

He spaces out again, brain fuzzy because you haven’t stopped slowly grinding against him. He can hear you faintly humming to the song drifting from his speakers, the print of your warm hands on his skin intoxicating. It’s easy to lose himself in this moment, his hands already wandering further down, gripping your hips tight. The tiny gasp that leaves his mouth when he bucks up and feels the dampness leaking from your core happens out of his control. It shuts down his brain for a moment, because you feel perfect like this, dripping all over him like you’re his.

He bits back that thought swiftly, though. Because you’re not his.

And yet when you lean into his space, his hands cupping your ass and your chest gingerly brushing against his own, Jeongguk really wishes you were his.

“I’m hungry.” You whisper it into the side of his neck, the smile on your lips pressing into his skin. 

“I – uh – I’ve got food in the fridge? Or we could order something? Whatever you want – I’ll pay.” He already gives you free weed but free food couldn’t hurt, right? He reasons it out with the sex even though he knows he shouldn’t. But that’s beside the point, he just wants to treat you a little bit if he’s being honest with himself.

“Not for that,” You softly reply, abruptly shifting away and Jeongguk has to physically stop himself from pulling you back into his space, sudden anxiety weighing over him. But that’s wiped away when your lips meet his and he feels himself melt, bones fusing together and his heart pounding frenetically in the cage of his chest. Your lips feel perfect on his, gentle and tasting faintly of the chap-stick you’d borrowed from him earlier. There’s also the faint aftertaste of weed on your tongue but he genuinely couldn’t care less because he knows he tastes the same. And also his dick is so hard that it’s making it impossible for him to thread together a simple coherent thought that doesn’t dissolve into nothing with every small moan that slips from your mouth into his.

He could die happy like this. High, with a pretty girl he thinks he just might be falling in love with kissing him. Yeah, he really could die happy like this.

You’re the one that pins him down and marks his skin. He prefers it like this – when you take control and use him how you want too. You’ve never really had that conversation but you’re too perceptive to not note down what turns Jeongguk into a blubbering mess whenever you end up in situations like this. And he’s unusually responsive when you take advantage of him like this. Like he needs you to want him. You can’t help but cup his bulge as you paint his neck purple and red, the weight of his cock in your palm turning your brain off. He’s already hard, dick twitching with every slight touch you give him. You decide then, that you want him in your mouth.

Jeongguk doesn’t question it, jolting when you press a kiss against his happy trail before tugging at the band of his grey sweats. His hips rise and he helps you shuck them off, sighing gently when his cock is finally freed, sitting heavy against the line of his abs. That sigh turns into a groan when you take him into your hands, stroking gently, your mouth inches away from length. You toy with him like that, the dry rub of your hands unpleasant but also irresistible. It’s only when he locks your gaze, that you give in, reading the want in his dark eyes.

 “Please.” It sounds breathless even to him, the plea tumbling from his mouth when you finally settle your lips around his length, cheeks hollow as you sink down on him. It’s the heat of your mouth that does him in, the firm press of your tongue trailing around his cock intoxicating. You take him in so well, the slightest gag around his tip driving his hips up and up, slipping deeper down your throat because you look so pretty with his dick in your mouth. He watches you swallow him with a heat burning through his system, gaze trained on the way his cock disappears down your throat.

The cave in his stomach happens quick, his balls already tight with the promise of his release as you work your mouth around him. It’s the tremor in his thighs that lets you know and when you pop off his length, mouth wet, Jeongguk whines. He whines, actually whines, a low needy sound that slips into the room. The sight makes your head spin. He looks incredible like this, cheeks flushed and his dark curls slipping around his head. You can’t help but take him in your hand again, the twitch of his cock against your palm setting off something in your core. There’s a pulse between your legs that’s demanding attention. But your eyes can’t leave Jeongguk, watching with strange contentment as he bucks up into your hand, the weight of his length making your grip tighten. 

“God – ngh!” He takes it so well, a slight arch in his back as he raises his hips in search of friction. The rising of his chest shifts you forward, eyes locked on his honey gaze. The press your press onto his lips is all heat and want and desire, and yet somehow, it’s gentle. Slow in the way he moulds himself against you, the groans that echo in his chest falling into your mouth. When you break away, Jeongguk chases it, pink petal lips not wanting to lose the taste of your tongue on his. “Please.” There it is again, that little word that drifts from his mouth. It makes your heart twist in your chest.

“Please what?” You return, hand still swiftly working around his length.

“Wanna cum,” Jeongguk murmurs, breath short. “Please – oh fuck! Wanna cum so bad.”

You kiss him again, not thinking about how your core tightened at his confession. The negligence to your own needs is doing your head in.

“Tell me you’ve got condoms,” You state when you finally separate your lips from his. Jeongguk barely functioning, blinking a few times before swiftly twists to reach for his bedside table. You give him the space to look for it, wiping away the slick coating your hand on his sheets. The shirt you stole from his closet gets yanked off next, and you don’t wait for Jeongguk to fumble around with your undergarments, stripping them off yourself too. It’s only after you’re tossed all your clothes off that you notice him still rummaging through his drawers, a frustrated huff floating through the air as he tosses an empty condom box onto the ground.

“Fuck.” He murmurs it into the quiet air, rolling round to face you. The look he gives you afterwards is sheepish, the tinge in his cheeks rouge and a hand running through his mussed curls. 

“Really?” You can’t help the incredulity that taints your tone.

“Yeah – fuck I’m sorry. I had no idea I was out. We could something else – if you want too.” You’re too wound up to respond, the heat pooling between your legs drawing your attention to his hard cock laying neatly on his abs. It wouldn’t hurt to ask, would it? But Jeongguk is already talking – reading your silence for something else. “I mean, only if you want to of course! We could just 69 or something or – or I could just get you off. If that’s what you want, I mean.”

“That’s not what I want,” You reply, picking up on the strange emotion that falls over his features. “I just – I don’t want that right now,” You attempt to amend, but there’s still something strange about the way he nods in agreement, hesitantly running his tongue across his lips. “Are you clean?” You try again. Jeongguk pauses, staring at you for a moment before he responds.

“Yes, why? Are you clean?”

“Yeah. And I’m on birth control.”

It dawns on him a second later, and there’s a tangible shift in the air around you.

“Wait, you s-sure? Like sure sure?” Jeongguk swallows hard, but you don’t miss the way his dick jumps at the idea. 

“Absolutely,” You say it firmly, hoping it’ll erase the apprehension that emits from him. “Now, please come here and fuck me before I explode from sexual frustration.”

Your back hits his mattress a second later, a small surprised giggle falling from your mouth as Jeongguk knocks your legs open, making space for himself there. The giggle evaporates into a choked out moan when his fingers fall onto your cunt, thumb toying with your clit in swift circular motions. He teases it, grinning when you squirm a little, before he drifts down, two fingers sinking into your heat without hesitation. It’s heavenly, the way he curls them up as he snaps them into you, sure movements that have you unknowingly balling the sheets that surround you into your fists. It doesn’t help that you’re wetter than you thought you were, slick immediately coating your inner thighs as Jeongguk fucks you open. It must surprise him too because he slows his moments, purposefully watching the way his fingers sink into you, the darkness in his gaze burning through you. 

“God,” He says it with wonder, dropping down to get a better view of your cunt. “How are you so wet?” 

His tongue meets your clit before you can spit out a remark, the words that once sat on your tongue reduced to helpless sounds that flood his room. He presses a palm flat against your thigh a second later, holding you down firmly, his wet tongue dipping into your floods with intent. Your fingers settle into the mess of his hair when his tongue replaces the fingers that were pounding into you, a broken cry of his name slipping from your lips. Jeongguk eats that up – literally, tongue fucking deep into your hole and the tip of his nose nudging against your clit. It has your toes curling, the way he licks up your slick like he needs it. You only push him away because it’s too much and not enough all at once. When he glances up, soft curls tumbling into his face, and his mouth glimmering with your wetness, you let the fire building in your core consume you.

“Need you,” You whisper, pawing at him until he’s resting over you, his hands gripping the back of your thighs. You let him fold you like this, the occasional brush of his cock against you setting your skin ablaze. Jeongguk sighs, pressing a brief kiss onto your cheek. It’s just a flash of his warm mouth printing on your skin but it leaves you breathless, pliant underneath him as he settles himself were you need him most. It makes you indulge, for a moment – that this is more than just hormones and convenience. But you don’t try to linger on it, ripping yourself from that gentle fantasy that yearns to reveal itself. You instead focus on the way Jeongguk lines himself up with your core, the tip nudging you open until he just gives in, sinking deep into your heat in one swift motion. Your brain gives up then, the stretch of him inside of you dangerously heady.

Jeongguk’s not thinking either. He’s trying to empty his mind of everything because if he focuses on the heat that surrounds him or how you’re dripping over his cock or even the tiny gasp that fell from your mouth when he slipped in or the tiny flutters of your walls around his bare length – he will cum. He’s not even joking. The tightness in his gut is a dead giveaway, abs clenching when you squirm underneath him, somehow shifting him deeper inside of you. Maybe it’s the weed but he’s buzzing, body a live-wire for your touch. He can’t do anything but drop his head into the crook of your shoulder, fingertips digging into your thighs as he holds himself still. You’re not helping his case though, whimpering softly into his ear and wiggling your hips around like you want him to blow his load right away. It’s sinful, how you wrap around him like you were made to take him like this. And it’s a sensory overload for his system too. He’s used to having that barrier between the two of you, but now that there’s nothing – now that he can feel every ridge in the walls of your wet cunt. He honestly might explode. Burst into a thousand little pieces, right here, like a star reaching supernova. 

“Fuck,” Jeongguk pants it into the heat of your skin, hips slowly picking up momentum as he drills you into the sheets. You can’t help but claw at his back, taking the hard thrusts helplessly, his name a mantra on your tongue. 

“Jeon-ah!” The curve of his cock hits a spot that has your vision blurring, the knot in your gut pulled tautly. He presses another kiss to your cheek, mumbling something underneath his breath that you don’t hear over the sound your lewd meeting. It verges on sounding like pretty, a strange fluttering erupting in your chest at the thought of Jeongguk finding you pretty as he splits you open on his cock. But you brush that thought aside, nerves sparking under the piston of his hips. It’s hard and rough, just like you prefer it to be. And yet you feel like Jeongguk is holding himself back, his thrusts tight with control. You don’t want him to hold himself back. You want all of him. All of it. And you let him know that from the hard kiss you plant on his mouth, dragging your fingertips down his back. The nails on his back dig deep, but from the groan he lets out, you know Jeongguk like that. And then his hips falter, a rough groan tumbling from his mouth as he fucks you deep. It’s desperate, the way your bodies mould together like you’re attempting to limit the concept of space between physical bodies completely, searching for a way to be one and the same. It sinks in then, with claws that lodge themselves into your heart, that fantasy you keep locked up. You want all of it. All of him.

You kiss him instead, forcing your attention on how well he fucks you. This can be enough. This has to be enough.

It doesn’t feel like enough though.

Unbeknown to you, Jeongguk is on the same wavelength. He’s trying not to let his mouth run but he wants to call you so many things. He wants to say your gorgeous like this, taking his cock like your meant for him. Him alone. He wants to call you his. He wants you to call him yours. He wants so much more than just this. He wants to hold your hand when you ride his dick. He wants to kiss you awake in the morning. He wants to fall asleep with you in his arms. He wants all of it. Not just this.

He burns the way you fall apart around his length into his memory, etching every sigh and moan you let out into his mind. You look beautiful. He aches to tell you that. But instead, he buries his head into your shoulder, hoping you don’t see how much his body trembles as his high descends onto him, the short hard thrusts he gives in to your heat almost too much for his system. But he does so anyway, even slow to peel his body away from yours because he loves the way your arms wrap around his body, even more than he loves the tight heat that his length is still buried it. Somehow, it gets worse when he watches you reach for your clothes, his cum still leaking from your hole. You head to the bathroom first, and your absence in his bed makes his heart hurt. He sits there, mulling it over, so afraid of something he’s not able to identify. And then you’re out of his bathroom again, looking like an angel once more. But before he can ask – just suggest – for you to stay the night, you’re shrugging your jacket around your shoulders, mumbling a goodbye that has his heart sinking right to his stomach. He murmurs one back too, reaching for his phone like he’s not hurt by the sudden rush for you to leave. He doesn’t see you standing there, paralyzed for a moment, when he does this – like you’re hoping he’ll say something – anything, that won’t have you walking out his door. But he doesn’t. Not that you should have expected that.

You leave in silence. Jeongguk can’t help but get up and roll another joint, his brain replaying how you looked underneath him, how you felt underneath him. The weed is good; the sex was amazing. He still finds you one of the best people he’s ever had the pleasure of knowing.

This can be enough. He forces this to be enough.

It doesn’t feel like enough though.

[ereawrites]

Tim Drake x Reader - Envy

The first time he realises it's more than a stupid crush is mid-summer, sweat across the back of his neck, ice in his drink. Bruce has had a tough few weeks, and he's learning to surround himself with the people he cares about in times like these: besides, the weather is gorgeous, a rarity for Gotham, and so Bruce throws an extended family barbecue. 'Family' has always been a little tough to define, for Tim and for many others who share the Wayne name. Some - Dick, Jason, Damian, Cass - feel as though they could be his blood siblings, like they share more than a name and a vigilante identity and a proclivity for violence. Duke, Kon, and Jon have somehow become his annoying cousins who say, let me play the games on your phone, Tim, I know you get the unreleased ones, don't lie, but he loves them all the same.

It's when he sees you talking to Steph, the distant ex who he now considers one of his closest friends, that the depth of his feelings really hits him. You're in a swimsuit - he shouldn't stare, he shouldn't, it's summer and it's hot and it's perfectly normal for you to want to enjoy the pool while you're at the manor - with a cocktail in hand, golden sun catching in your hair, a warm smile lighting up your features, eyes crinkled up at the corners with laughter. Maybe Steph is telling an anecdote about the family; perhaps you're just enjoying this perfect day.

A giggle spills from your lips, shiny with the cherry-flavoured lip balm he knows you use, right as your gaze wanders across the pool and meets Tim's own. Although he's quick to react, transforming his face into a friendly smile and giving you a small wave, he has to fight back a blush from the shame of almost being caught staring. He isn't a creep. He isn't.

"Tim!", you exclaim, as he crosses around the pool and makes his way over to you and Steph. "I didn't know you could even come out in the sun! I hope you're wearing sunscreen."

Steph smirks. "You're all... milky. How long has it been since you left your computer screen?'

Tim feels your eyes drag down over his body, probably only because Steph's just pointed out how pale he is, but he's in a swimsuit too and he can feel your gaze burning hot on every inch of exposed skin. He huffs out a sarcastic laugh. "Funny, both of you. Duke attacked me with a bottle of SPF twenty minutes ago."

You and Steph dissolve into another fit of laughter: clearly the image of his assault is amusing to you. Tim would pretend to be more annoyed than he really is, maybe play it up a little to make you both feel bad, but he knows that you're only in a good mood. Why wouldn't you be? This is the first day you've had fully to yourself in weeks - he makes a point to stay updated on your activities, but he's not a creep, it's normal to take an interest - between your schoolwork and your internship. The hard work has paid off, though, and you've just graduated at the top of your class with a path straight into a major company. He can cut you some slack for now.

"Do either of you two know where I can find Damian?", Steph pipes up suddenly after a sip of her own drink. "I've gotta talk to him."

Tim exaggerates a disgusted tremble, which only earns him a playful slap from Steph and another little giggle from you. "Poor you. He's probably walking the dogs on the other side of the garden, or something - antisocial little shit."

"Damian, antisocial? I haven't heard from you in almost three weeks, Timothy Drake! You hypocrite!", Steph cries. Three weeks? He could've sworn it was only a week ago, at most; he FaceTimed her for a catch up, and she was talking about her crush on Kon's dad, and he'd explained he'd been busy because he'd been helping you write your thesis - but, wait, it hadn't even been the final section, so it must have been longer ago than he thought, because you submitted your final draft five days ago - shit.

Tim sighs. "Sorry, Steph. Actually, sorry to both of you. I... lost track of time, I guess?"

"I'll let you off this time, Drake-", Steph narrows her eyes at him, and tips back the last of her cocktail. "But you better repay me by having another drink ready for me when I come back."

She grins widely, and heads off to find Damian: God knows why she wants to talk to him when he's being so antisocial, but she's always had a way of drawing the young boy out of his shell. Tim chuckles under his breath, and turns to smile sheepishly at you.

"And you? What do I have to do to make you forgive me?", he offers. He's half-teasing, but there's a part of him that feels guilty. It's selfish. He knows it is; he's the one who finds himself wanting to spend so much time with you, not the other way around, and he sees you more than enough. You probably haven't even realised it's been four days since you last spoke to him.

You swirl the last dregs of your drinks thoughtfully, smiling at him - God, your smile is perfect, so soft and warm and kind - and then reach out to pat him on the shoulder. "I think I'm the one who owes you, you know."

Your touch lingers for just a fraction of a second and Tim is forced to suppress a shiver. "Meaning?'

"You've spent most of your free time for months helping me with schoolwork, Timmy! There's no way I would've been able to - actually, no, I would have managed fine without help - but you made it so much easier. I wish I could do more to thank you."

Tim waves away your gratitude with a small smile. "You've done plenty - besides, I enjoyed helping you."

"Why?", you grin, and the previous playfulness you'd exhibited with Steph is beginning to spark back up in your eyes. "Because my area of study interests you so much? Or is it just because I'm your favourite person?'

There are a million ways he could play this. This stupid, summer crush has been eating at him for weeks now, and Tim knows all too well that he's bad with emotions. He has no idea which course of action he should choose: flirt, or tease, or act aloof? Dick would dazzle you with a charming grin and a compliment - Jason would make a ridiculous, suggestive joke that somehow would be flirty instead of creepy - Damian (and Tim feels indescribable shame at the fact that his younger brother would be better at this than him) would brush the teasing off in a way that only drew you in.

"...Spending time with you isn't the worst thing in the world.", Tim settles on, and he mentally kicks himself as soon as the words leave his mouth. God, he isn't a creep, but he's stupid. So stupid. Almost as stupid as he is for developing a crush in the first place.

By some saving grace, your smile only widens. "So I am your favourite person?'

He needs another drink.

"You're in danger of losing that title.", he shrugs, and begins to head for the drinks table that Alfred so thoughtfully set up - you follow without question. "But, well, I wouldn't have spent all that time with you if, you know, I didn't like you. It was actually... kind of fun."

You fix yourself your own cocktail at the same time as him. It must be your favourite, since it's the same as the last one you were drinking, and Tim has to remind himself again that he's not a creep as he wonders how it would feel to kiss the taste of sweet alcohol off your lips. It's just a crush. He's going to get over it.

"Aww - I knew you loved me! Seriously, though - I did really enjoy spending that time with you. Even if you did spend half of it vibrating from caffeine overload, and the other half shouting at me for drinking caffeine myself.", you say.

He shrugs. "It's bad for you." Hypocrisy normally gets to Tim, but he can excuse the bad habit for himself. He can't help but worry about you.

The words that spill from your fruit-stained lips in response - teasing, as always, no more than that, stop it - and the glint in your eye and the little quirk of your mouth upwards; something about it just feels different and it makes his stomach lurch. "You're a bad influence, Timmy. I like it."

Fuck. He sips at his drink, too much vodka for his liking and too little ice, but oh well: he's got bigger things to worry about, like hiding how thickly he swallows. Like pretending he doesn't notice the faint sheen of sweat coating your collarbones, and the dip of your throat, spreading across your shoulders and down, down, dipping to your stomach - he pretends he doesn't notice. It's hot. You're warm. And a bit of sweat shouldn't get to him as much as it does.

"Every person here is a bad influence. You asked me for help, anyway. I'm starting to regret doing it.". That's a blatant lie and you both know it, but Tim doesn't know quite how to react other than with sarcasm. He feels like he's dancing with you every time he speaks to you, skating on paper-thin ice but loving the thrill - don't be so fucking dramatic, it's just a crush, stop it.

You roll your eyes and place your glass down onto the table. "I'm sorry. You're a fantastic influence, and you've made the last few months far more bearable. Thank you. I mean it."

And then you bring one hand to his shoulder, a feather-light touch that still sends him practically careening into ecstasy, and before Tim quite realises what's happening, you're pressing a friendly kiss to his left cheek.

You pull back with a smile. "I'll stop giving you shit for today, but only because I'm so grateful."

You just fucking kissed him. You were barely an inch away from his lips, close enough that he could almost smell your drink on your lips, and it was only a friendly gesture and he knows you do it with everyone and he knows it doesn't mean anything, to you, at least - but, to Tim, you've just punched right through his chest and grabbed his heart and squeezed, tight, snatched the breath right from his lungs and all rational thought from his brain; he wants, so badly, to lean forward and kiss you for real this time. He would, if he had the courage. He would, if he knew you felt the same way.

This is more than a stupid, summer crush.

Tim wants you to kiss him again. He wants to take your hand and parade you around the barbecue on his arm. He would lick the sweat off your fucking collarbones, if you would only let him. Maybe he is a creep. He doesn't care anymore.

Another sip of his drink. He's so fucked.

You don't notice the way his jaw tenses, or the way his breathing quickens; why would you? You're not looking for any kind of reaction, because, for you, it was just a kiss on the cheek, nothing more, nothing worthy of a revelation of his feelings.

"Oh, Tim - look, Kon's coming over!", you nudge him with your elbow, drink back in hand. Tim's too shellshocked to do anything other than follow your gaze, right over to where Kon's walking over to the two of you. He must have been in the pool with Jon and Dick, because his hair is wet and rivulets of water are running down his chest - Tim doesn't think he'll ever really get used to his best friend being so absolutely ripped. He hates it.

Kon fixes you with a beaming grin. "Hey, guys! What's with all the drinking? I though barbecues were for having fun and eating, not an alcohol club."

Tim forces a smirk: Kon will see right through him if he isn't careful, figure out what’s going on. The smile on your face, though, is wide and genuine, almost as big as Kon's.

"Says Aquaman over here.", you giggle. Kon shakes his head, flicking water at you, and you squeal and dash behind Tim.

Droplets of pool water land on Tim's face, filling his nose with the scent of chlorine instead of the scent of your drink, and he mourns the loss. "Careful, Kon. Chlorine can burn our skin right off. You wouldn't want to hurt us, right?"

The other male's eyes widen comically, and he mouths a seriously at Tim, concern evident in his gaze. Having a half-alien best friend has its drawbacks, but it's worth it for the tricks Tim gets to play.

You peek over Tim's shoulder and, upon determining that the coast is clear, step out and pout at him. "Don't tease - Kon, don't listen. He's stringing you along."

Tim scowls at you. "Fuck - you couldn't have played along for a few minutes? Seriously?"

Kon lets out a hearty chuckle, and out of nowhere he reaches his hand out towards you - for a moment, Tim just stares at it, wondering why his best friend is offering his hand to you. Then, you take it, that soft smile on your face, and Kon's pulling you into his chest and you're squeezing his hand and he's kissing you gently on the forehead.

"I knew I could rely on you.", Kon smiles, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. The penny begins to drop for Tim, but it's as if it's in slow motion - he sees the grand reveal coming, but he it doesn't quite sink in just yet.

You turn back to face Tim, keeping your fingers interlaced with Kon's so his arm wraps around your body and settles on your waist, pressing you into his side. "I - uh, sorry, Tim. Kon's still... getting the hang of how much PDA is acceptable."

Oh. Tim should have seen this coming. He should have noticed the signs; they all spring up in his mind now, the way Kon only ever seemed to blush around you, and the way Tim's noticed you checking Kon out during training a few times (he'd not thought much of it, you'd be blind not to), and the way both of you have been so suspiciously quiet about your love lives lately - maybe to protect his feelings, to make him feel like he's not the odd-one-out of the group, to avoid excluding him.

"It's fine,", he lies. "But, well - PDA? I didn't realise you two were... close like that."

Why is he torturing himself by asking for details?

You offer him an apologetic look. "I know you've been really busy, lately - you know, with work, and stuff. I thought it would be best to hold off on telling you about anything going on until you had less on your plate."

You don't say it with pity, like you know that he's been harbouring feelings for you: no, it's just friendly concern, knowing that he would want to know about your new crush and help you navigate it, because Tim is shit with his own feelings but he's got a penchant for helping others with their own.

"Thanks for being considerate. I wouldn't have minded helping you, you know.", Tim says. Another lie. It would have absolutely fucking killed him to help you, but at least he would have seen this coming. At least he could have prepared.

Kon squeezes you into his side, and then releases you so he can pour himself a drink. His bright blue eyes, kind and piercing, prompt Tim to speak again. "And, Kon - come on, buddy. Why didn't you say anything to me?"

Kon chuckles warmly. "I guess I didn't really realise what I was feeling, you know? I mean, I knew that it was different, but I didn't exactly know what it meant... or how to explain it."

Another piece of the puzzle falls into place. There's a domino effect in Tim's mind and right now he hates how intelligent he is, wishes he could turn it off for a second if only so that he would stop making deductions about this relationship that's sprung up right under his nose.

"You made the first move, then?", he asks, directed at you, and he can feel his smile starting to slip. There are beads of water on your waist in the wake of Kon's touch.

You let out a small, almost embarrassed laugh - Kon returns to your side, not touching you this time, but still standing in a way that makes it seem as though he's protecting you. "You could put it that way. I mean, nothing's official yet - no one even knows other than you and Steph and Jon, we're still figuring it out. We don't wanna make a big deal, you know?'

Tim doesn't know. He nods anyway. "I'm happy for you both."

The smile on his lips - vodka, ice, fruit - falters just a little too much and he knows Kon notices it. Bright blue eyes soften in worry, his mouth moves to ask if Tim's alright, but Tim just glances back at you; small smile on your lips, golden sun in your hair, happy.

"I'll have to go make sure that Bruce and Jason aren't in danger of blowing us all up in a gas explosion. I'll catch up with you two after.", Tim says, just before Kon can get any words out. He gestures aimlessly in the direction of the barbecue, and you and Kon nod in unison - together, a couple - and Tim throws back the last of his drink before he leaves.

He should be happy for you - he is, in a way, glad that Kon's found someone he can be vulnerable with and you've found someone who makes you happy. He should have been more convincing - he doesn't want either of you to worry. He should have seen this coming. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He should never have let himself start feeling anything for you in the first place.

Maybe, Tim thinks as he heads into the cool air of the manor and slips into a quiet room, closing the door behind him - maybe, if you hadn't have kissed him on the cheek, it would've been easier. He could've kept telling himself that this was just a stupid, summer crush, and it would've went away by the time the first snow fell in Gotham, and if worst came to worst he could've called Steph and distracted himself for a few nights. The thought of that, of touching anyone else, makes him feel sick now.

Tim runs his hands through his hair and tugs desperately at the ends. He has no idea how he's meant to come back out to the barbecue, watch Kon kiss the taste of sweet alcohol off your lips, think about Kon's hands on your body - he can't do this. He can't.

[swaps55]

For Sam and Kaidan if you are so inspired: Making snowmen in an empty field and Getting happily drunk off spiked eggnog - because the idea of drunk Sam building a snowman makes me giggle!

Kaidan grabs Shepard by the arm as they stumble off the front porch, a half-empty thermos of Alma’s eggnog in hand. Eggnog probably isn’t the right beverage to carry with them while traipsing through snow drifts, but fuck it. They’ve earned a few bad decisions.

Besides, for one hundred and thirty-four, Alma makes some good fucking eggnog.

“Snow’s that way,” Shepard complains when Kaidan drags him to a halt halfway down the stairs. “Can’t build a snowman on the porch.”

“Hang on. Hang on. We need a carrot.”

“Why the fuck do we need a carrot?”

“For the nose.”

“Snowmen have carrots for noses?”

Kaidan’s brow knits in confusion. “Of course they have carrots for noses.”

“Why?”

“Because…” Kaidan trails off. Huh. Well. Now he’s stumped. Why do they have carrots for noses? There has to be a reason. Right?

“Because,” he declares, with all the unearned confidence he can muster. “It’s…pointy. And snowmen are…round. It’s about the contrast.”

Shepard blinks, giving the explanation due consideration. “Okay you’ve convinced me. I have carrots in the barn.” He stops short. “Don’t tell Echo.”

“Major Tom’s the one you have to worry about. That cat’s a damn snitch.”

“And she outranks me,” Shepard points out.

“Oh, fuck, she does.” Kaidan frowns. “Hey, I outrank you, and I still took orders from you.”

“Not when we’re naked.”

Kaidan jabs him in the chest with a finger. “Damn right.” He frowns at Shepard’s coat, trying to parse what’s wrong with it. When it dawns on him, he fumbles for the zipper, and after a few misses, manages to zip it up. “Don’t want you to catch cold,” he says with an affectionate pat.

Shepard boops his nose with a finger before pulling on his gloves.

Once they pilfer a carrot from Echo’s stash in the barn they head for her paddock, where it only takes Shepard three tries to get the gate open. To his credit, at least one of the failed attempts is because snow is in the way. The red mare eyes them curiously from across the field, and starts trudging her way over, leaving tracks in the snow.  

“Okay. How do you build a snowman?” Shepard asks.

“With snow,” Kaidan replies.

“Very helpful.”

Kaidan shoves his shoulder. “You make a ball. And then another ball. And put the ball on the ball, then top it with another ball.”

“Can they be big balls?”

Kaidan holds his hands apart for emphasis. “Really big balls.”

Shepard sniggers.

When they get to the center of the paddock Kaidan drops to his knees in the thick blanket of snow and uses his arms to scoop together as much snow as he can manage.

“Y’see?” Kaidan says. “Y’just…make a snowman.”    

“By smooshing snow into balls.”

“Yep.”

“This is so fucking weird.”

Echo approaches the growing pile of snow cautiously, stretching her neck and blowing her nostrils at it. When it doesn’t retaliate, she paws at it with a hoof, sending snow flying.

“Hey!” Shepard gently shoves her nose. Echo snorts and shies away, kicking up snow eddies. When Shepard doesn’t react to her theatrics she saunters back over and butts at his back pocket.

“Outta here, kiddo. I’m workin’.”

“She’s after your nose,” Kaidan points out. “I told you Major Tom was a snitch.”   

Shepard’s hand shoots to the carrot stuffed in his back pocket and gives the mare a stern look. “Fuck off, this nose is reserved for someone else.”

“Shoulda brought her her own nose.”  

“Find your own nose!” Shepard exclaims, throwing his hands up when Echo persists. “This is my first snowman. You can’t have its nose.”

While Shepard argues with the horse, Kaidan smirks and packs a ball of snow in the palm of his glove. His aim is perfect. Well, perfect in that it at least it doesn’t miss.

Shepard yelps, the Savior of the Galaxy yelps, when the snowball hits. Echo bolts, tail up in the air like a flag. Shepard stares down at the snow sliding off the front of his jacket, then looks back up at the perpetrator.

“You.”

Kaidan cackles and runs, but doesn’t get far before Shepard tackles him from behind and plants him face-first in the snow. He sputters as Shepard rolls him over and swallows him up in a kiss.

“Fuck, Alma makes some potent eggnog,” Kaidan manages when Shepard turns him loose. “I think found a pocket of brandy under your tongue.”

“You had to go and brag about biotic metabolism,” Shepard says. “To her face. This’s…revenge, that’s what it is.”

“Tastes good for revenge, though.”  

“And at least it isn’t fucking peppermint.”

“Fuck you, kiss me.”

Shepard obliges. It’s deep, intense, and fuck his lips are cold. Kaidan settles back into the snow, heedless of the flakes sneaking into his boots and soaking through his very not-waterproof hat. Shepard’s breath is warm, his biotic field sending a current that reverberates from head to toe.  

“Getting a little handsy, are we?” Shepard murmurs into his mouth.

Kaidan does a quick inventory. He’s only got two hands, last time he checked, and one is pinned to his chest, while the other is making damned sure Shepard doesn’t get it in his head to stop kissing him.

“No?”

“Then what—”

A crunching sound that isn’t snow reaches Kaidan’s ears, and he dissolves into laughter. “I think Echo stole your nose.”

Shepard looks over his shoulder to find the red mare standing over them, dribbling chunks of carrot spit on his back.

“You little shit. Now how is this fucker going to breathe?”

Kaidan uses his free hand to turn Shepard’s head back in his direction. “Listen here, Commander, I did not say you could stop making out with me.”

“But snowman,” Shepard protests. “Also, did you know snow is really fucking cold?”

Kaidan strokes his cheek with a gloved finger. “Then how about we go get warm, restock on noses, and once you’ve kissed me stupid in front of the fire we give it another try?”

Shepard bobs his head. “Yeah. This is a good plan. I like this plan.” He shakes the thermos. “Also, more eggnog.”

“Well, no shit more eggnog.”

“It’s good eggnog.”

Kaidan’s turn to boop Shepard on the nose. Shepard grins and gives him one more kiss before they help each other to their feet. It only takes two tries, too.

Shepard looks at the pathetic start to their snowman. Between the kissing and Echo’s flee right through the middle of the bottom ball they still have a lot of work to do.

“Kissing first,” Shepard declares before taking Kaidan by the end. “Then more snowman.”

“Oh shit, we forgot eyes.”

“…what the hell are their eyes made out of?”

“…coal? I think?”

Shepard puts a hand to his chin, deep in thought. “I think we have grapes.”

“Perfect.”

Kaidan loops an arm through his as they fumble back towards the house. “Yeah,” he says, leaning his head on Shepard’s shoulder. “Perfect.”  

[all-things-skam]

Jens’ season: chapter nine

Saturday, February 29th

Feeling the bed shift next to him, a smile broke out on Jens' face as he remembered last night's events. His plans had completely shifted and he couldn't be more happy - sorry, Robbe.

His heart began to swell, filled with endless happiness. He had thought Lucas was asleep when he confessed his feelings to him. That's why Jens allowed himself to say those three words. Given the Dutch boy's steady and slow breathing, he should've been asleep - but he wasn't -, which turned out to be a good thing. If he had been, Lucas wouldn't have reciprocated the words.

Jens felt his smile deepen. Lucas loved him back. Life couldn't be better.

At least, at 8am on a Saturday.

Lucas woke up not long after Jens, both still sleepy but also needy. He nuzzled his face into Jens' neck and along his shoulder, fighting sleep. That boy was really cuddly in the morning. Not that Jens minded.

Jens wished all his mornings would be like this. Warm, lazy and filled with kisses from the prettiest boy. It was as close to a perfect morning as it could get.

Lucas bit Jens' bottom lip and let it go with a 'pop'. ''Do we have any plans for today? Or are we staying in bed all day? Not that I'd mind.''

''We?''

The brunet hummed, blue irises looking up at Jens. ''I told you. It's my mom's weekend. I don't need to go home. I can stay here instead.''

A content smile formed on Jens' lips. ''I'd like that very much.''

Now that Jens had come out to the boys, he could officially introduce Lucas to them, but staying home and keeping Lucas for himself sounded better. Much better.

He leaned down to join their lips together, one of his hands sliding under the blanket and down Lucas' body. His hand was about to slide inside Lucas' boxers when his bedroom door opened and Lotte walked in, forcing their little 'fun' to end before it even started.

''Lucas!'' she squealed, eyes sparkling with joy the second she saw him in her brother's bed. Lotte jumped on the bed with them, clueless about what almost happened. ''I didn't know you were here.''

Lucas forced an awkward smile, cheeks flushed from the situation.

''Does Mama know?''

''Yes.''

Lotte knitted her eyebrows, staring at her brother, trying to figure out if he was lying. ''That's a lie. If she had known, you wouldn't have been startled when I came in.''

Jens groaned. If only she knew why he was startled... ''Lotte, can you go bother someone else? It's 8am, let me go back to sleep.''

''No! Dad left for work so Mama and I are making waffles downstairs.'' She turned to Lucas. ''Are you staying for breakfast, Lucas?''

The brunet cleared his voice. ''I guess I am.''

Grinning, Lotte took Lucas' hand and tugged, trying to drag him out of bed, but the curly haired one stayed under the covers, very aware that he was only wearing underwear. No matter how much he loved Jens' mom and sister, he didn't feel comfortable enough to be walking around like that in front of Jens' family.

''Why don't you go and make sure Mom doesn't burn the pancakes? We'll join you in a minute.''

.

Sunday, March 1st

Spending the weekend at Jens' made room for a lot of awkward situations.

Yesterday, Lucas almost stumbled into Jens' dad when exiting the bathroom after his shower. Is there any better way to be introduced to someone? Lucas wanted to be swallowed by the ground. Then, he got caught mid-changing by Lotte. Thankfully, his pants were still on.

Their making out session had been cut short this morning when Jens' mom walked in, catching them kissing in Jens' bed. Fenna didn't say anything, both boys being still fully clothed. She just deposited the pile of clean clothes and left, leaving the door wide open instead of just ajar. Message received.

Later in the afternoon, Jens decided to leave the house to get some fresh air - aka freedom.

While he was grateful that his parents agreed to have Lucas spending the weekend over - and sleeping in his bed -, he was tired of his family breathing down his neck or constantly being interrupted by his sister. They couldn't even sleep in or have some morning cuddles without Lotte coming in and jumping on the bed. Jens really needed to learn to lock the door.

It was cloudy and gray outside - a bit cold too -, but Jens wanted some time alone with Lucas. Can you blame him?

Spoon still in his mouth, Lucas hummed, eyes closed. ''This cake.''

''It's good, uh?''

The brunet nodded avidly, cutting another piece of his cake with his spoon. ''You, Belgians know how to make desserts.''

Jens shook his head, smiling. ''You and your sweet tooth...''

As if a cake wasn't sweet enough, Lucas had ordered the sweetest one on the menu: a chocolate mousse cake. Even though Luc had told Jens how much he loved chocolate, he didn't realize until now exactly how big of a sweet tooth he really had.

Jens watched the thick, yet smooth chocolate mousse disappear into the brunet's mouth. He cleared his throat and averted his eyes, reminding himself where they were. He tried to keep his mind from wandering to a dangerous place, but it wasn't easy. It seemed, sometimes, like Lucas made every minor actions somewhat suggestive, and he knew exactly the effect it would have on Jens.

''Want a taste?'' Lucas asked, raising an eyebrow.

Turning his attention back to him, Jens nodded. Why not? He wasn't a big fan of desserts, but the chocolate mousse seemed really tasty. He opened his mouth, ready to taste the sweet desert, but Lucas put the spoon in his own mouth, making Jens frown and pout.

''Hey! That was for me.''

Lucas shrugged. ''Sorry, but this cake is just too good to share.''

''Tease''

Smiling smugly, Lucas blew him a kiss over the table before returning to his plate.

Jens pulled up his phone, snapped a picture of Lucas - he was just too cute to not capture this moment - when a notification from the selling app popped up. ''Yes!''

Lucas glanced at his boyfriend, confused.

''Someone is interested in something I'm selling,'' Jens explained.

''What are you selling?''

''Oh, just games I don't play anymore.'' He shrugged. ''They were collecting dust.''

It wasn't a huge sale. Only some game at 7€, but, it was 7€ less to find to pay back the drugs Lucas had flushed.

Lucas frowned, taking a sip of his fancy coffee. ''Why are you selling your video games online? Can't you go to a game store for that? Jayden does it all the time.''

''Yeah, but they only offer discounts on other games. I need money.''

''What for?''

Jens sighed. He didn't want to involve Lucas any more in his problems, but he already knew about the drugs, so why not. ''Remember when you saved my ass and got rid of the drugs in my locker? Well, my dealer texted me and he wants his money. I have some cash from the weed I sold and other stuff, but what has been flushed needs to be paid too. I can't just tell him I almost got caught and had to get rid of them.''

''I can help. It's partly my fault that you have to repay him.''

Jens shook his head. ''No. It's my fault that I'm caught in this shit.''

''And, it's my fault that they're in the sewers somewhere in Antwerp.'' Lucas paused. ''We could always try to retrieve them...''

Jens wrinkled his nose in disgust. The pills had probably all dissolved by now anyway. ''Ew, gross.''

''So, are you taking my offer?'' Jens hesitated and Lucas smiled at him. ''You can pay me back if you want to. In cash or...other,'' he added, winking over the table.

''I'll think about it.''

.

Monday, March 2nd

''What the fuck, man? Why did you shoot me?''Jens asked through the headphone's mic as his character received a bullet to the chest.

''Sorry, I thought it was Aaron.''

Jens laughed, looking around on his TV screen to find Aaron and shoot him, laughing harder as he did so.

''Hey! Why is everyone trying to kill me?''

''Because it's fun,'' Moyo responded.

paused his video game when he saw Michiel's name on the screen. He bit his lip anxiously before opening the message.

Michiel: Where's my cash, kid? Ghosting me won't work. I need it by Thursday. Or else...

Jens stared at the screen for what felt like a lifetime. Michiel was now threatening him. Jens had to do something quick or he was going to be in real danger. Who knew what Michiel - or his men - were capable of? He couldn't tell Lucas why he had suddenly changed his mind and he felt bad for asking his boyfriend for money - Lucas wasn't his personal banker -, but he needed the money sooner rather than later.

Jens: Is your offer still standing? I don't think I'll sell enough shit by Thursday

Lucas: I told you I'd help, didn't I?

Lucas: When do you need it for?

Jens: Thursday

Lucas: Want me to come with?

Jens: No. I'll be fine

Lucas: Is that supposed to be reassuring?

Jens: I'll be fine, Luc

Lucas: Okay... but I want you to text me when you get there and when you leave just so I know you are safe

Jens: 👍

.

Wednesday, March 4th

The television was playing loudly when Fenna returned from work, some sort of anime on the big screen. She furrowed her eyebrows at the unfamiliar characters, her heart aching at the explicit content flashing across the screen. How can teenagers watch that?

''Sorry for finishing so late. There was a big car accident and I had to do extra time to help,'' she explained, removing her jacket and setting her bag down. ''Did Lotte eat already?''

''No, I let her starve,'' the teenager answered from the couch.

Fenna gave her son a look. ''Jens...''

He flashed his mother a smile. ''I'm joking. I reheated last night's leftovers.''

''Good. Where's is she?''

''Upstairs playing in her room. Want me to tell her to come down?''

Before he could call Lotte down, Fenna shook her head. ''No. That's good, actually. I wanted to talk to you.''

Jens frowned, trying to read his mother's face but failing. She came around to sit on the couch and he turned down the volume of the television.

''You...you were right. About your father. He lied to my face about this job, he lied to all of us.'' Fenna closed her eyes, her husband's lie still fresh.

She had gone to see Mohamed on her lunch break between shifts since the hospital wasn't far from his new office - and he wasn't answering his phone. When Fenna got there, she asked to see him and was told that he didn't work there and never had.

''After a lot of difficult thinking, I made a decision and I wanted you to be the first to know about it. Your father and I will be separating.''

''As in a divorce?''

Fenna nodded slowly. She didn't want to get a divorce - nobody does. Divorce felt like a failure to a lot of people. But, it was the right choice to make. ''I still love your father, but sometimes love isn't enough. Money might not buy happiness, but without money, we can't live in this house.''

''We?'' Jens repeated. ''That means we're going to...move?''

Exhaling a breath, Fenna nodded sadly. ''I didn't want to. I did everything in my power to stay here, but I can't afford this house on my own.''

Jens swallowed thickly, a wave of sadness flowing in. He wasn't one to get attached to things, but loved this house. He spent his whole life here. Every corner and walls held a memory. The staircase where he broke his arm when he fell with his bike when he was five, the dining room table where him and his mom used to sit and work on his spelling homework, his bedroom where he had his first makeout session and the place he lost his virginity.

''What about Dad?''

He didn't want to be insensitive, but where will his father go? Clearly, he won't be following them after the divorce.

''His brother lives in Liège, he'll be staying with him for a moment. Or, so he said.''

Jens nodded. Maybe a change of scenery will be good for him. Maybe it'll help him get back on track.

.

Thursday, March 5th

His hands were clammy as he crossed the street, seeing Michiel's building in his line of sight. After his parents' divorce announcement, Jens wasn't in the mood to meet with Michiel, but he didn't really have the choice. Michiel had been clear: he wanted his money. He didn't care whatever was happening in Jens' personal life.

All the money was in his left pocket, feeling heavy, and a worried Lucas was in the other, sending him texts every ten seconds.

Jens stood on the doorstep and rang the doorbell, stress growing in his stomach. He bit his lip as he waited, going still when the door opened and the same big guy who was there the first time stood there.

''Long time no see,'' he pointed out.

''Is Michiel here? I have his money.''

The man nodded and let Jens in, the door shutting loudly behind.

.

''So, it's over? No more drug dealing shit?''

Jens hummed. ''It's over.'' He kissed Lucas in the middle. ''No more drug dealing shit.''

Lucas rolled his eyes at the small mockery. ''Good.'' He sighed, relieved.

After leaving Michiel's, Jens came over to Lucas' to reassure him and take advantage of Mr. Van Der Heijden being at work. They hadn't had a lot of alone time during the weekend despite Lucas sleeping over, so it was nice to be just the two of them again.

Lucas led them to the couch and cuddled against Jens, being the cuddle-bear he will never admit to be. Some things were just for Jens and him to know.

''I could fall asleep right here and now,'' Lucas pointed, closing his eyes as Jens played with his curls, twirling the soft ringlets between his fingers.

''Am I that much of a bore? Because I can go home if-''

Clutching a fistful of Jens' hoodie, Lucas made a protest noise. ''Don't you dare.''

Jens laughed and kissed his forehead, feeling Lucas pulling him in closer. He was keenly aware of Lucas' wants and needs and cuddling was Lucas' unspoken signal of reassurance that he would always be there for him.

''So, now that you've met my family, when am I going to meet yours?'' Jens asked, mildly teasing, breaking the comfortable silence first.

Lucas grew quiet, staring down at the carpet in front of the couch, the shades of browns and greys suddenly very interesting.

''Do you...not want me to meet your parents or something?'' Jens asked, silently hoping it wasn't that.

The brunet sat up, removing himself from Jens' hold. ''No, no. That not- It's just, I've never introduced someone to my parents...like that.''

''You mean a guy?''

''No girls either, if it reassures you,'' Lucas added with a bit of humor.

''You've told your mom about me, though?''

''Yes, but it's complicated. With my mom, we can't just schedule a date and have dinner all together. She might get anxious or she can- So many things can go wrong.''

''Or it could go well.''

Lucas sighed, moving away from his boyfriend's touch. ''Jens...''

''And, your dad?''

‘’My dad’s a dick. I only moved with him because the judge said I had to. It was that or going to a foster family. My dad might be a dick, but he’s not the worst. There’s kids out there that need fostering more than me, some who are stuck in abusive families or even orphans. I would’ve felt bad for taking someone’s place. Entering the foster system would’ve also meant not seeing my mom anymore and I can’t renounce to that.’’ Lucas paused, swallowing his emotions. ‘’She needs me. I’m all she has left. I can’t do that to her.’’

By the way his voice was strained, Jens could tell that it was still a difficult subject. Lucas was close to his mother. Hearing his story made Jens wonder how bad her mental illness was. If a judge had declared her inapte to take care of him, it must be serious. It was also so sad to hear that her husband had completely pushed her out of his life just because of her mental illness. She was lucky to have a son like Lucas.

As much as he wanted to meet Lucas’ parents, it wasn’t worth putting Lucas - nor his parents - in this state. Causing trouble in his boyfriend’s family wasn’t what Jens wanted.

He shook his head. ‘’Forget what I said, okay? I’ll meet them when you’re ready. No pressure.’’ He flashed Lucas a small smile which got reciprocated.

Lucas nodded, grateful to have someone as understanding as Jens. ‘’I love you.’’

‘’I love you,’’ Jens repeated, pulling the smaller one back into his hold.

.

Friday, March 6th

‘’Is Lucas coming?’’ Aaron asked, leaning against the kitchen counter.

Jens nodded, taking a sip of his beer. ‘’He said he’s on his way.’’

An eager smile spread on Aaron’s lips. ‘’So, I’m gonna meet him?’’ he added, unable to contain his excitement.

‘’You’ve met Lucas before...’’

‘’Yeah, but not as your boyfriend. This is a big deal-’’

‘’Aaron…’’

He shrugged. ‘’What? I didn't say it the other day, but I’m happy for you. I liked Jana, but Lucas is much cooler. At least he skates with us instead of sitting and watching.’’

Jens raised an eyebrow. ‘’Cooler than Sander?’’

‘’Don’t push.’’

After Robbe, Aaron was Sander’s biggest fan. He was never shy to voice how much admiration he had for him whether it was his flirting tactics, his confidence, romantic gestures or how good looking he was. It even became a running joke in the gang that if Sander wasn't already taken by Robbe, the curly haired one would tempt his chance.

‘’Your boy is here,’’ Aaron pointed out, nudging Jens as he saw Lucas walking in.

Jens looked up, watching as Lucas squeezed a path between the dancing girls in the living room and some shotgun drinkers. He grimaced at the mess it was making on the floor and scanned the room, trying to find his boyfriend, fastening his pace when he spotted him and Aaron in the kitchen.

Jens greeted him with a kiss, getting some cooing from Aaron. Could he be more annoying? Lucas leaned into Jens as the latter hooked an arm over his shoulder, pulling him close.

‘’So, you’re Jens’ boyfriend?’’

Jens rolled his eyes and groaned. ‘’Let’s go look for Moyo and Robbe.’’

.

They all sat in the bathroom, passing around weed and booze, like the old days. Moyo had brought some weed and smoke was rapidly filling the bathroom as they all blew their thick, grey puffs into the air.

It was the first time they all hung out together - Lucas and Sander included. Jens and Lucas squeezed in next to Robbe and Sander in the tub, laughing as Aaron vented about his latest romantic gesture that turned into an epic fail. Honestly, when does it not?

''I had the room all set up and everything,’’ he explained. ‘’Candles, flower petals, her favorite scented bath stuff, but then her mom came home and ruined my surprise before we could even get in the water. I tried telling Amber that we can still go in, but she said it was too weird if her mom was in the house.’’

Amber’s bathtub. Lucas shared glances with Jens, memories of their first kiss flowing in.

Sander sighed. ‘’Robbe’s the same, he won’t-’’

Knowing where this was going, Robbe didn’t let Sander finish his sentence, covering his mouth with his hand before he could say any more, refusing to let this turn into another let’s tell Aaron about our sex-life episode.

‘’Why did you stop? It was getting interesting,’’ Aaron complained.

‘’Quit encouraging Sander into telling you stuff. It’s private.’’

‘’And weird,’’ Jens added, backing his best friend.

‘’You’re the one who used to brag about sex-’’

Jens rolled his eyes. ‘’I don't brag…’’

He did tell everyone about losing his virginity and the sex he had with Jana - what else does fifteen years old do? And, he ranted about that toothpaste tip...a lot, but he wasn’t on Aaron’s level of bragging.

‘’Well, if you really want to know, there’s this amazing thing Jens does with his-’’ Lucas stopped himself, a smug grin on his lips. ‘’Did you really think I was going to tell you?’’

‘’I like him,’’ Moyo commented, giving Lucas a high five.

The gesture didn’t go unnoticed by Jens. It was nice to see that Lucas was integrating well into their group.

“So, since we have two new guys in the group, maybe we should get to know you both better?” Aaron suggested, waiting for his turn to take a puff.

“Dude, why do you always have to be in everyone's business?” Moyo asked.

''Don’t you know Sander enough already? You've pestered him with questions ever since Robbe said they were dating,’’ Jens said, making Robbe laugh.

Lucas felt his phone buzz and reached into his pocket to see who it was. Noting the number, he silenced the call and put his phone back in his pocket, returning his attention to the boys.

Aaron shrugged. “I’m just trying to get to know my best friends' boyfriends. If they are important to them, I want to get to know them better and let them know we care enough to get to know them.”

Sander snorted. “How profound and thoughtful of you, Aaron. I feel much more appreciated.”

Robbe laughed as Jens grabbed the joint from Moyo and took a hit. He had hesitated at first, remembering recent events, but figured that weed was a better coping method than Xanax. And, he wasn’t going to let himself get so high. Just a couple puffs to have a nice buzz.

He was about to hand it to Lucas when his phone went off - again. Sighing, Lucas pulled it out of his jacket and frowned.

‘’Gotta take this. It’s the third time he’s called, it must be important. I’ll be right back.’’

Jens nodded and watched as Lucas rose to his feet, leaving Jens’ side and headed outside to answer the phone call in a more quiet place.

The second the door closed, Sander whistled. ‘’I didn’t believe Robbe when he told me you two got together. Does he still steal your fries?’’

Rolling his eyes, Jens shook his head.

Minutes later, the door opened and Lucas’ face was worried and distraught, his previous lightness and drunken happiness completely gone.

Jens furrowed his eyebrows. ‘’Luc?’’ He sat up, recognizing a frantic and panicked behavior.

‘’I-I gotta go,’’ he simply said, ignoring Jens’ question and grabbing his jacket on the edge of the tub before leaving again, not saying ‘bye’ to anyone.

The boys watched confusedly and gave Jens a look, but the latter wasn’t paying attention to them, his eyes focused solely on Lucas. Jens stood, handing the joint back to Robbe, and went after his boyfriend, wondering what he had been told on the phone that made him want to leave the party so fast.

He didn't catch up to him until they were outside, the amount of people inside the house made it difficult to get a hold of Lucas. The evening wind hit his face the second he stepped out, sending a shiver down Jens’ back. He grabbed Lucas’ arm when he was close enough to reach and made him stop.

‘’Slow down, Luc. Why are you leaving?'' he asked, releasing his arm.

Lucas turned around, eyes filled with tears but he fought them. ''My dad. He said-'' He interrupted himself, shaking his head, voice trembling and faulty as he spoke.

Jens frowned, going immediately into comforting mode. Something was up, but the Dutch boy was talking so fast and the panic in his voice made it more difficult for Jens to understand what he was saying.

He lifted Lucas' chin, catching sight of his glassy blue eyes. ''Hey...tell me what’s going on. I can’t help you or understand if you don’t tell me.’’

‘’My mom. It’s- She’s going to be admitted to a clinic, I… I have to go.’’

[ubernoxa]

The Dare: A Guns N’ Roses Fanfiction

Chapter 34: Thunderstorm

(Masterlist)

Pairing: Duff Mckagan/OC

Story Symmary: A stupid harmless dare, that’s all it was supposed to be. It was supposed to be something they would do, and never revisit. For Delilah, little did she know that visiting the strip wasn’t going to be a one time thing when she made the choice to accept the dare. Life is full of choices. Some choices can mean absolutely nothing, while others can change your entire world. Delilah had heard many rumors about the Sunset Strip or Devil’s Strip. Teenagers would whisper stories about how the Devil walks the streets of the strips without a care in the world. It was known as a place untouched by God. After years of hearing rumors about the Devil’s Strip, Delilah wants to see it for herself. Thus a Dare was born.

Chapter Summary: Delilah decides to finally do it with Duff

WARNING: SMUT

Taglist: @gingerspicetalks @str4nge-haze @queen-crue

Despite the rain and the thunderstorm that had started after Duff’s gig, Del couldn’t help the smile that had grown on her face. When she looked up to Duff’s face as the walked into Guns N’ Roses Place, she found a smile that met her own.

“You look sexy tonight,” Duff whispered in her ear. Hi fingertips danced down her arms until he he reached her exposed thighs that used to be covered by her tight leather skirt. He couldn’t believe his eyes when he spotted her in the crowd. His eyes studied her the entire show, and he had to continue to kick himself to knock him out of the trance she put him in.

Del could feel herself turn tomato red as he complimented her. He had called her cute and beautiful, but never sexy. She could feel the butterflies causing chaos in her stomach as the nerves flooded her veins. There was a small voice in the back of her head that whispered to her that she chose to ignore.

Del gasped as Duff spun her around. She felt a small moan escape her as she felt his soft warm lips pepper kisses across her soaking wet collarbone.

“Damn the fucking rain,” Del whispered between moans earning a soft chuckles from Duff. He pulled back, no longer sending vibrations across Del’s skin from his small chuckles.

The pair locked eyes as Duff towered over the short brunette. She felt him eye her up and down in all of her soaking wet glory. Her hair appeared darker as it clung to her features. She let out a soft chuckle and looked away from Duff as he gently placed the hair that clung to her face behind her ear. He could see her blue bra that was showing through the soaking wet white shirt, clearly on display. He took in his favorite piece of fabric, her skirt, that now barely covered his ass. He figured that it must have ridden up as they ran through the pouring rain from his gig, but he wouldn’t complain. Feeling his lingering eyes, Del went to pull her skirt down, but Duff swatted her hands away. She stared up at his hazel eyes, and couldn’t help the smirk that had grown on her face. A smirk that mirrored the one on Duff’s own.

“You better watch your mouth. Swearing is HIGHLY inappropriate. You better watch who you spend time with, I think he is a bad influence on you,” Duff replied earning a soft chucked from her making his heart leap.

“Is it safe to say that having sex before marriage is highly inappropriate?” Del could have sworn that she saw Duff’s eyes grow at least three times when she spoke.

“Highly, I’m going to have to punish you for even saying it,” he growled into Del’s ear making her melt.

“Then you’re going to have to catch me first,” Del said before she escaped his grip and began running towards the kitchen, giggling the entire way. Duff without hesitation followed her, quickly trapping her behind the kitchen table.

Del looked in his hazel eyes from across the table. There was only one word that could describe them, hungry. It was clear that Duff was the mountain lion and she was the faun.

“Well well well...Delly it looks like you are in quite the predicament,” Duff teased as the pair circled the kitchen table.

“Hmm..I’m not sure what you mean,” Del naively replies only earning a deep chuckle from Duff.

Hoping that he was distracted enough, Del tried to bolt past him. Giggles escaped her lips as Duff caught her and spun her around.

“We should probably take off this, so you don’t catch a cold,” Duff whispered while tugging on Del’s shirt. She turned, still wrapped in his arms, smiled right back at him. “I can say the same out you.”

The pair quickly removed their shirts faster than a blink of an eye, quickly discarding them on the floor.

“This as well Delly,” Duff whispered as he pointed at Del’s bright blue bra, the same one that was driving him crazy ever since they walked into the apartment.

“Here, let me help you,” Duff quickly unclamped Del’s bra as he spoke. She remained frozen in time as Duff towered over her.

“Your..your pants,” Del mumbled pointing at Duff’s pants.

A smile that could only be described as one that matched the Cheshire Cat grew on Duff’s features.

“What about them, Delly?” He teased right back.

“Can I....can I take you pants off?”

“Fuck yeah baby,” Duff said before Del began to undo his belt, and take his pants off.

Her eyes grew as she watched his member spring to life. Duff snickered as he watched Del admire it. He didn’t have to wonder if this was the first time she had seen one, just by the look on her face he knew. This only made him harder.

“Suck it,” Duff grunted as she continued to stare at it.

“I...I don’t know...I don’t know how,” Del could feel her cheeks turn bright red as embarrassment took over as she spoke. She wanted nothing more than to turn invisible and hide.

“That’s okay, do you know how to suck a lollipop?” Del nodded at Duff’s words.

“It’s just like that...don’t worry..I’ll guide you Delly,” Del smiled at his words as she got on both knees.

Duff looked down at Del as she had her pretty little mouth wrapped around his member. There was something surreal about it. He wanted to fuck her so bad, just Del sucking on his member was driving him crazy.

“Your skirt,” Del stopped sucking at his words.

She scrunched her face and looked up at Duff, “what about it?”

“Take it off,” the moment Del took it off, Duff picked her up and spun her around. Del gasped as Duff pressed her up against the cold wall.

Duff pulled back when a the room illuminated a bright blue from the lightening coming from the raging storm outside. Del felt Duff push her even harder against the wall earning a soft moan. The smell of cigarettes and vodka filled her as she gazed into his dark hazel eyes that would illuminate whenever lightening filled the sky.

Del felt her fingers slowly intertwining with his blonde hair as the taste of vodka filled her mouth. Del lightly tugged Duff’s hair, trying to pull him closer. She felt him - all of him - presses up against her. She needed more. As if on cue, Duff roughened the kiss causing every inch of Del to dissolve into his arms. Duff’s weight on Del was driving her insane. She needed more. She whined earning a quick snicker from the blonde when he carried her away from the wall and towards his and Slash’s room. The last thing he wanted was to be disturbed. He let out a small moan as Del began to lightly tug on his hair. She was driving him insane. He wanted nothing more than to drop her on his bed, taking her right then and there, but he knew he had to take it slow with her. For she was a virgin after all.

Duff was caught off guard when he tasted Del’s strawberry lips again. He felt another moan escape him as she bit his bottom lip, and slowly pulled back.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Dell nodded at Duff’s words.

“I want to show you how much I love you,” her voice was barely louder than a whisper when she spoke. She stared into his hazel eyes for what felt like the hundredth time that afternoon as she held his chin in her hand, rubbing her thumb over the small stubble on his cheek.

“Umm...do you have a...,” a lightbulb quickly went off in Duff’s head as Del spoke. He quickly dug through his dresser until he found what he was looking for, a condom.

“Thank you,” Del whispered earning a soft smile from Duff.

“So uhhh...how do we...” Del paused as she tried to find the best way to ask how to have sex. The only sex education she was taught was abstinence which clearly wasn’t helpful in this situation.

“How do we have sex?” Duff finished her question as he sat down next to her on the bed. He mindlessly played with her chestnut hair as he spoke. She was nervous, it was clear as day.

Del didn’t say a word as she nodded her head. She felt like a child. Doubt started to fill her head as she sat next to Duff. She knew he was experienced, and she was terrified that she would make a fool of herself. For she saw herself as nothing more than s girl, and Duff was a man.

“However you want. I would prefer to gaze into your beautiful eyes while we do it, but first I’m going to have to....prep you,” Duff was kicking himself once he finished talking. Prep you, PREP you, what was she a dish he was making for dinner?

“How do we...how do we make sure..that...umm I don’t get pregnant,” Del asked. She felt a smile cross her face as she felt Duff wrap his arm around her. She felt relief at the fact that Duff was being patient with her.

“I’m wearing a condom and I’ll make sure I pull out...how does that sound?” He asked before tucking some of Del’s hair gently behind her ear. It was one of his favorite things to do whenever she became nervous because it seemed to always relax her. He liked to think that it made her feel safe.

“That sounds good,” Del smiled at his statement, she could finally feel herself calm down, the nerves slowly disappearing.

Duff then guided Del to lie down on the bed, and he got on top of her as he began to leave a trail of soft kisses down Del’s stomach. He looked up at her one last time looking for permission. She nodded and sent the bassist a warm smile.

She felt the butterflies in her stomach erupt into chaos as she felt him kiss the inside of her things. Duff guided her to separate her knees, as Del felt her breath quicken. She pushed all doubt to the back of her mind as she watched his every move.

Del couldn’t help the moan that escaped her mouth as she felt Duff’s soft lips kiss her clit. She only got louder as she felt Duff’s rough tongue take over her senses.

“Ohh Delly you’re so fucking wet, and you taste, so fucking good,” Del let out a moan at Duff’s words, filling the small room.

Without warning, Duff slid his middle finger into Del, his own groan joining hers.

“Ohh god, Delly you’re so fucking tight. I just gotta...loosen you up..okay baby?” Del nodded as her moans continued to fill the room.

Del let out a gasp as Duff flipped her over in one swift motion. Del, for the first time, now towered over Duff. The way he looked at her, how hungry he was, set her soul on fire.

“Now, Delly...whenever you’re ready just,” Duff motioned towards his erect cock as he spoke. Del nodded understanding what he meant.

She positioned herself over his cock, and looked at Duff who wore a shit eating grin.

“Go as slowly as you.....” before he could continue Del had lowered onto his tip.

“Ohh fuck Duff,” Del moaned causing Duff to compulsively lightly buck his hips.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight,” Duff cussed as Del had lowered herself all the way onto his cock. It took every ounce of his willpower to not flip Del over and fuck her hard. He didn’t want to hurt her.

“Are you comfortable?” He asked, once she finished squirming on him.

When she nodded, he smiled at her and said, “if it hurts....tell me to stop.”

He grabbed her by her waist and began to slowly buck his hips. Despite Del’s general quietness, she was fucking loud and Duff was loving every second of it.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Duff said no louder than a whisper. Del remained moaning nothing more than sounds unable to form words. Her mind had dissolved as she focused on the rhythm.

“I’m gonna fucking cum,” Del was pulled from her thoughts as Duff’s husky voice filled the room. He quickly pulled out, and Del felt the warm liquid cover her breasts as Duff once again towered over her.

The room then went silent as Duff pulled Del close to him, nuzzling his head into her neck humming sweet nothings. Del felt frozen in time as the smell of vodka and cigarets overtook her senses like a tsunami on a beach. She let a small whine escape her as Duff pulled away.

“Don’t worry, Del...I’ll be right back...I just gotta...grab a towel or something...” Dell nodded as Duff motioned towards the mess he made on her chest.

Duff left his room and headed towards the kitchen. Taking a hand towel, he soaked the center of it in water before throwing it into the microwave. After some quick searching, he was able to find a second hand towel to clean the mess he made on Del, Realization snapped through his head as he headed towards the living room to collect his and Del’s clothing. The last thing he wanted was for the guys to come back to an apparent littered in Del’s clothing.

Duff froze as he heard the front door squeak open.

“What the fuck, Duff!” Duff covered his member with the clothing he was able to grab off of the floor. He felt like a deer in headlights as he stood naked as Axl, Slash, and Izzy walked into the apartment.

“Hey, guys....how’s it going?” Duff tried to play it cool as Izzy and Axl stared him down.

“What the fuck are you doing walking around the apartment naked?” Axl yelled earning a suppressed laugh from Slash.

“So..how was she?” Slash asked, not even letting Duff answer Axl’s stupid question.

Duff felt a shit eating grin cross his face before he went back to grabbing his and Del’s clothing that was still on the floor.

Slash and Izzy’s laughter filled the room, “you lucky bastard” Izzy added before heading to the kitchen.

Duff felt Axl staring him down the entire time he picked up the clothing.

“Okay...I give up..what’s your problem?” Duff turned towards Axl as he spoke. Normally he would just ignore Axl, but not today, not when it came to Del.

Axl just continued to glare at Duff. He could feel his blood continue to boil at the thought of Duff fucking Del.

“What? Am I not aloud to fuck my girlfriend?” Duff shot towards the singer.

“Not in the fucking living room!” Axl shot back, Duff saw an all too familiar fire in Axl’s eyes.

“We didn’t! Ever heard of foreplay?” Duff shot back, making sure to not raise his voice. There was more going on here. They have all fucked someone on the couch, and it was never a problem before.

“Is everything okay?” Del’s soft voice cut through the apartment.

All eyes were on Dell who had covered herself in Duff’s blanket which in the right light was a bit see through.

“Yeah Delly, I’m just grabbing our clothes,” Duff sweetly replied before walking over towards her, and placing his hand around her waist.

Izzy watched Axl’s blood boil as Duff whispered something into Del’s ear making her laugh.

[jungkooks-left-tiddie]

In Conclusion; it do be like that sometimes.

You can Find the Wattpad version here :)) 

Warnings: Mentions of an arranged marriage, Alcohol use, A nosey man, People constantly misgendering others, Inability to understand personal boundaries.

Words:  4.7k, (An apology for posting this so late)  

Hadi

August 28th, 2020; 3:17 pm

Beirut, Lebanon.

"Golfing? Seriously?" To say that Hadi was having a bad day was the understatement of the century. She overestimated her ability to wake up on time, which then led to her running around the house, trying to finish some pending work, when she got the memo that her father wanted her to join him at an investor's private golf club.

"Yes, and you best hope I see you here in the next 30 minutes," Her father threatened. Hadi shook her head.

"I don't have any choice do I?" She cut the call, tossing her phone on her bed and rummaged through the wardrobe to try and find the right outfit. Pulling out a rather plain beige checkered sweater, she scrunched her nose in disgust. Golf outfits were so incredibly plain; I mean, where was the ✨✨pizzazz✨✨?

"Ugh, boring-ass outfits, no fashion sense at all," She was about to apply her perfume and concealer, but she decided against it. God knows how her father and the other men would react.

Double checking her belongings again, she fed her kitten and played with him for a while. Glancing at her watch again she sighed loudly. Blu-- her kitten-- as if he could sense her reluctance meowed loudly and purred; almost as if he was telling her to not go.

"I know sweetie, I don't want to go either. But I have to," Hadi picked up Blu and put him back in his small bed. "Behave well for me, ok?" Blu just meowed in response.

Hadi grabbed her keys and entered the elevator. She made her way to the building's parking lot and buckled herself up, groaning when her phone-- that was connected to the car's bluetooth-- rang loudly.

"Yes, Hassan?" She sighed audibly. Her day was bad enough already, and she didn't need another person who made it worse.

"My man Hadi!" She winced at the use of the incorrect pronoun. "You still up for drinks tonight?"

"I'm sorry, Hassan. I have to attend to some incomplete work today," Hadi lied. Was she sorry about it? Not at all! Any time away from people was worth lying for.

"Aw! Well, its your loss," She rolled her eyes, "Everyone's going to be there, you sure you don't want to come?"

"I'm sure, Hassan." She cut the call, not particularly in the mood to talk to him for longer.

Hadi was not even 20 minutes into her drive when she got a notification about a meeting she was supposed to attend in a few hours. She was kidding about having to attend a meeting, but since when did things go her way anyways? And usually she would groan at the mere mention of a meeting, but this time, Hadi was actually excited for it. I know, I can't believe it either.

Taking a sharp turn, Hadi saw the isolated roads ahead of her and she suspected that she was nearing the location her father had given her.

"This isn't that far away from home," She noted, pausing for a moment and drove her car to the parking lot. The security, as if knowing who Hadi was, immediately let her in.

Hadi parked in the designated place and went to the reception.

"Hi sir, how may I help you?" The receptionist looked up from her computer screen with a polite smile.

"I was wondering where I could find Mr Kanoo?" The gut feeling of being extremely out of place never left her.

"Oh, Mr Kanoo and his daughter are waiting for you in course number 17," She smiled and gestured the way to the course. Hadi gave her a swift smile and began walking; only to pause suddenly.

"Actually I was wondering if I could you could do me a favour," She walked to the receptionist's desk yet again.

"Of course, sir."

"I know this sounds really odd," Hadi gave a sheepish smile, "But could you get me a locker in the men's dressing room? I have to attend a meeting after this and I have no time to change," She explained, handing out her card for them to swipe. To her surprise the receptionist just smiled and pushed the card back towards him.

"Mr Kanoo will be taking care of all your expenses," She smiled and showed Hadi the way to the locker rooms.

Hadi quickly ran back out, grabbed the suit hanger from her car and hurried towards the direction of the locker room. Twisting the knob to its combination, she gently folded her suit so that it won't catch any wrinkles, put it inside and twisted the knob again.

A quick glance at her watch told her that if she didn't start running, she'd be executed.There was absolutely no way she would make it in one piece if she ran, so she opted for walking briskly instead, following the arrows that made it easier to navigate the huge club.

Hadi sat down on one of the benches, crossing her long legs. She spotted her father, Mr Kanoo and a woman who seemed like his daughter from a distance and frowned.  

'Why's she here?' Usually, Hadi wouldn't worry about petty things like someone's daughter playing golf, but judging by the way Mr Kanoo's daughter was laughing at something that Hadi's father said, she was concerned.

Hadi's father never cracked jokes. Heck, he wasn't even remotely funny. Convinced she was just being paranoid, she consulted the council of wise turtles.

Another quick look at her father told her that he was still in a deep conversation with the other man. So she did what she always does best: Hadi scrolled through her social media to see what was up. 

She quickly switched her phone off when she heard the voices of approaching footsteps and loud laughter.

"Hadi my boy! It's absolutely wonderful to see you again!" Hadi stood up.

"I could say the same thing, mr Kanoo," She gave a curt smile and brought her hand out to shake the older man's, hoping she looked polite enough.

"Sit down, sit down!" Mr Kanoo gestured one of the waiters to come over, "Right, take down the order," He looked at Hadi and her father.

"Any preferences?"

"Yes," Hadi turned towards the waiter, "I'd like a Mai Tai and a grilled lentil panini," Excited at the prospect of proper food, Hadi wondered that maybe coming here wasn't a bad decision after all and only zoned back in when she heard the waiter coming back with his order.

'Damn, good food and fast delivery? I need to come to this place often.' She found herself thinking as she took a bite of her panini, almost moaning at its exquisite taste.  

She drowned out the loud voices of her father and the other man, who now began talking about investments and shares.

"So tell me Hadi," Mr Kanoo turned to him with a devious smile and Hadi knew, that no matter what question she was asked, she had to be careful while answering.

"This new project your father was telling me about," He swirled his glass, "May I know the profit margin that you're expecting?" Hadi sipped her drink.

"I guess father forgot to mention that this was a non-profit project," She avoided her father's glance, "It is meant to provide for children who are in need of food and shelter," Mr Kanoo held a contemplating gaze.

"And say, how do you plan on funding the project in the future?" All of a sudden, all eyes on the table were on her.

"Well," Hadi sipped her drink yet again, "We've set up a trust fund for starters," She set her almost-empty glass down, "And the final details for the project will be discussed today," She smiled at the older man again,

"But it's the generous businessmen like you who really make a difference," A BIG LIE. While Ahmed Kanoo did give away money for charity often, Hadi couldn't really say the same for other businessmen and their companies. She just hoped that Mr Kanoo would buy her compliments and agree to fund this project alongside her.

And once she saw the satisfied look that Mr Kanoo now wore, Hadi finished up the delicious panini and her drink.

"Do we have a deal then?" Her father prompted, setting his glass of scotch down and looking expectantly at Mr Kanoo.

"I believe we do!" They laughed and shook hands, which-- if Hadi's mental guide for corporate body language was right, meant that they had another ulterior move. There was no way in hell that they would laugh if they weren't the closest of friends (in this case, they really were not).

"So Hadi, when are you planning on settling down?" Hadi shifted uncomfortably.

'Well, Fuck. Time to dissolve.' Hadi was ready to yeet herself off a cliff.

"S-settle down..?" Of course Hadi knew what they meant by 'settle down', she just didn't know how to tell them that she was in fact, ✨✨gay✨✨.

"About time, don't you think? The company needs an heir, and judging by your success, I don't think it would be hard to find you a good wife," Hadi gave a polite smile, and laughed lightly, the kind of laugh that oozed discomfort. She stopped laughing after her father gave her a pointed look.

"W-wait you're serious?" Was it too late to run away? This has to be the worst thing her father has done after supplying her mom with his sperm, (which meant she had to be born), and assuming her gender and sexuality.

Hadi's head was spinning. She had no idea what her father and that other dude were planning, but whatever it was, it didn't seem too good.

"Of course daddy's serious," Hadi stiffened at the sudden contact of-- was it an arm?-- with her thigh, "And of course, he was referring to me," Ok, this lady was beginning to get on Hadi's nerves. She was silent the whole time, why open her mouth now? And what exactly did she want from Hadi?

"Excuse me?" The lady continued looking at Hadi in a predatory way, "What exactly do you mean?" She just wanted answers, goddamnit!

"Daddy always got me what I wanted," She drawled, leaning in towards Hadi's stiff body, "And when I told him that I wanted you; well, of course he complied!" The creepy lady whispered in his ear.

To anybody else, it would've looked like they were two best friends who were sharing secrets. And perhaps for that very reason Mr Kanoo and Hadi's father had assumed something else out of a situation that was now excruciating for Hadi to continue pretending that she was ok with.

"We should leave them to talk amongst themselves," Hadi whipped her head and looked at her father with pleading eyes. When it was clear he wasn't going to do anything, she had to take matters into her own hands.

"NO!" The chair on which she was sitting on scraped loudly against the rough asphalt of the ground.

"I mean," Hadi cleared her throat as her father and Mr Kanoo's scrutinising gaze pierced through her, "I have a meeting to attend and I really should get going," She quickly stood up, dusting off the ridiculous sweater she was wearing in the name of golf.

"I hope you don't mind me leaving so suddenly," Hadi smiled and tried to use all the charm she could, hoping that they fall for it.

"Of course, of course!" Mr Kanoo laughed heartily, "You have a company to run, I understand," She shook hands with the older man one more time and briskly walked, (it was more of a run, really), back to the locker room and changed out of her atrocious outfit in record time, from where she made her way to the parking lot again and drove out of this club as fast as the speed limit would let her.

She breathed out out in relief-- a breath she didn't even know she was holding-- as she slowly reached the familiar traffic in the main road. The experience at the golf club was something she never thought she'd live and she vowed never to go back to that place again; which was a shame because the food was amazing.

Hadi sighed, what would she have done if the meeting for discussing the project wasn't scheduled today? She shook her head and dismissed those thoughts. Groaning again, she leaned against the steering wheel when it was evident that this traffic was not going to ease up anytime soon.

This is exactly why she never left home.

It took Hadi almost an hour and a half for her to finally reach her office. If she hadn't left the club at the time she did, she'd probably have missed her meeting.

Hadi entered the lobby, greeting the workers as she made her way to the meeting room. This project was something she needed to do. This was singlehandedly, the most important project that Hadi has worked on, and she wondered if there was something that could top its importance.

"Chairman sir! you're here!" Hadi smiled and took her seat at the far end of the room and picked up one of the files lying on the table.

She read over every detail with outmost precision, being careful not to miss even the tiniest of details.

"I think we should tweak up the decor a bit," Everyone in the room analysed the papers that lay spread on the conference table.

"You know, make it a little more homely," Hadi glanced at the interior designers she'd hired for this project, looking for their approval.

"I suppose we could stray from the whole 'high society' vibe we had going on," At their approval, Hadi breathed a sigh of relief.

The next hour was spent on finalising the interior of the shelter, to make it as welcoming as possible. Every small thing, from the colour of the lights, to the accessibility of the furniture was addressed.

Eventually came the time for the the finance department  to propose a solution for the funding issue; and the CFO, Khalid Yusuf and his team did not disappoint.

"We thought of something like this," He looked at Hadi and brought the plans, "There are lots of investors who've given the go, right?" Hadi nodded and Khalid continued, "So we can make use of the trust fund we set up, and also hold fundraisers and donations," Hadi was smiling now.

"I like that idea. We should hold an event once every 3 months," She nodded to herself, "And it can be something that people enjoy," The Event management team took this as their cue to formulate ideas.

"Sir, I think we could do something different for every fundraiser we hold," A meek voice suggested from the back of the room, going silent when their superior was glaring at them.

"Sorry sir, I told him not to interrupt but--"

"No," Hadi raised her palm to stop the employee from glaring at the poor intern, who now looked terrified.

"Go on," She urged the intern to continue what they were saying. The intern glanced at their superior once again, and Hadi sighed.

"Ignore them and continue," The intern paled and nodded.

"If we could conduct a different event for each fundraiser, it would not only be more fun, but will also increase participation," The intern grew a little more confident at their boss's nod.  

"And increased participation means--"

"--More funds generated." Hadi was impressed. "What do you suggest we do for the first fundraiser then?" The intern looked at her in disbelief.

"Wait you're actually serious?" She frowned, what part of her looked like she was joking?

"Of course I am, why would I joke about this," She looked at the bundle of nerves in front of her. The intern was so happy, his face was almost ready to split in half.  

"Thank you so much sir, I promise I won't disappoint!" To everyone's surprise, the intern-- whose name Hadi later learned was Tyrone Booker-- presented an amazing idea that everyone thought was extremely fun to both plan and partake in, and personally speaking, Hadi couldn't wait until this plan was put in action.

Now the usual drill would be to schedule a meeting sometime in the coming weeks, but seeing as they were already behind schedule, Hadi decided it would be more productive if they stayed and finished the discussion today, so she could not only enjoy her vacation, but also that the preparation for the event itself would have more time and they wouldn't have to rush into anything.

"I know you all are probably tired, but I think we may have to spend the night finagling our plans for the fundraiser," Hadi was quick to notice the annoyance that bubbled in the room, "Let's do one thing," She glanced at her watch, "It's 9:30 now, so let's take a break for an hour, to eat or plan, whatever you want, and we'll get back to our discussion at 10:30. Sound's good?" Everyone agreed, although reluctant, they understood that it was either they spent another 3 hours here today, or they had to rush in with all the plans in the last minute.

The heads of department and their respective teams all went to their own places all over the office building. A few in the library, a few down in the lobby and some even went to the rooftop. But everyone in the building, including Hadi herself, had ordered themselves a hot meal that was coming their way too, and perhaps that was what kept them going.

Hadi pondered how she would use her time. She knew she couldn't waste much just thinking about what to do, so she just caught up with some of her friends on social media.

Hadi only stopped texting when she got her food, some good ol' Spicy Ramen. Just the smell of the Ramen itself was enough to brighten anyone's mood and today, she felt her mood instantly lift up one she had a bite of her food.

I'm forgetting something, aren't I?' Hadi paused the intense inhaling of her food and wondered why she suddenly thought she was forgetting something. She eventually attempted to brush it off thinking that she was just being anxious.

Key word: attempted.

Because no matter how much she tried to convince herself that she wasn't forgetting anything, a small voice in the back of her head kept telling her to remember. But Hadi could not, for the love of her life, remember what it was that she had forgotten to do, when it suddenly hit her like a truck, she promised her friend Meghana that she'd call her father.

Mentally cursing herself, she texted Meghana and asked her if it went too late for her to call Meghana's dad. Luckily she wasn't and she talked to Meghana's father, who-- to Hadi's surprise-- wasn't as bad as she thought he would be.

She answered all of his questions like, 'Will there be alcohol,' 'What all are you planning to do,' 'How long is the trip,' and 'Please don't let Meghana do stupid things.' The last one was more of a request, but Hadi complied nonetheless, there was no way Meghana could do such stupid things, right? Unbeknownst to her, she was actually underestimating how much of a chaos that girl really was.

But Meghana's father ended the call stating that he's willing to send Meghana on the trip, so I guess that was a success? Hadi doubted her socialising skills, but they weren't that bad!

After that whole fiasco, Hadi finished up her dessert for the night, and chatted with her (friends? She really didn't know at this point) for some more time,

Only when the team members started coming back in did Hadi realise that she's been chatting with her friends for almost 45 minutes.

They resumed the meeting with a little more vigour compared to when they left an hour ago, and Hadi was happy to see the progress they'd made in the short time they'd been allotted.

"So I thought that maybe going with a little more laid-back, casual style for the venue would be great, seeing that many of our guests are either going to be businessmen or just normal people out there for a good time," Tyrone explained, turning to face the people in front of him,

"The casual vibe will also help the employees and people have a great time in general, and will also lighten up the environment as opposed to a more professional one," Hadi felt that this particular reasoning was weak, but made no comment on it and instead waited for him to continue.

"A causal theme is also beneficial for our company as it boosts the overall company image and the relationship between the employees. Its also a great networking opportunity for people who're looking forward to socialising, and in fact, I would say that the whole atmosphere promotes creativity and improves motivation,"

"And lastly," Tyrone smiled sheepishly, "Although I feel like this is out of my place to say this, the environment is especially great if you have a lot of pent up stress and you're looking for a way to release it. No offence to anyone here, but some employees could really use the stress relief; and I am not even talking about our main event, I feel like the overall mood is very uplifting," He concluded, looking at Hadi for confirmation.

"I think the casual theme world be a great idea," Hadi deduced, the reason-- although it was presented as a lengthy one-- was very simple. People needed to enjoy what they payed the money for.

"And the main event is also very fitting for this theme, in my opinion." Elissa-- one of the interior designers she'd hired-- remarked.

"I agree, you can't have a bowling alley with a professional theme," Yazra, the head of the Marketing team added.

As the majority of people agreed with the casual theme, they decided that it would be the final theme. It took them another 3 hours to finalise the venue, the food and most importantly, the cost of entry. But finally, they were done!

Hadi was so tired, she could literally fall asleep on the conference table. But unfortunately, she didn't have that privilege. She thanked everyone for their immense help, time and contribution and eventually drove back home.

The streets, to her bad luck were filled with heavy traffic and Hadi was almost ready to cry. This day had already tested her patience and will to live enough; so why on Earth was this day just getting worse at it progressed? She hoped--prayed even-- that Blu did not trash the entire house by the time she got back. She was in no way, mentally (or physically) capable of dealing with his destructive tendencies.

'Finally' Hadi thought as the traffic started to clear out and she could drive back to her apartment and s l e e p. The feel of her bed and the comfort it brought was so close, Hadi could f e e l it in her bones.

15 more minutes. Just 15 more minutes and she'd be in the comfort of her home, with the warmth of her duvet and her smol kitten.

She entered the building with a newfound determination, greeting the security who was on his night-shift, and then made her way to the elevator and went up to the 25th floor; her floor. Technically she was the only habitant of the apartment of that floor, so there really was no harm in calling it 'her' floor.  

Hadi realised just how tired she was after she punched in the passcode to her flat and swiftly made her way inside. She barely had the energy to move, let alone change her clothes, but she managed to gather all the energy she could and changed into her night clothes. A quick check on her cat told her that Blu-- like her-- was getting ready for bedtime, curling his tiny body in the small bed that Hadi got for him; and Hadi was overjoyed to find out that Blu hadn't trashed anything today. She guessed that even the most destructive of animals get tired of breaking stuff every once in a while.

Without any other distractions, Hadi plopped on her bed and drifted to sleep as soon as her face hit the pillow.

And so she slept, without a care in the world, because starting tomorrow, she was on vacation; and this time, she will make sure that she enjoys every single minute of it.

______________

A/N:

So,,,,, uhm,,,,, *shuffles and looks at cue cards* *Ducks under the table because of the rotten tomatoes being thrown*

I know I was supposed to post this earlier but I honestly have no excuses this time,,, I was suddenly hit with writers block and I was trying so hard to finish this piece, but it was so hard because I know literally nothing about the corporate world or how its run for that matter. I managed to evade it in the first chapter but I needed that info this time,,,,

So a big thanks and shoutout to my mom for sitting wit me and explaining business terms and answering my useless questions lmao. I hope you enjoyed this, and also let me take the time to remind you to be nice, and USE THE PREFERRED PRONOUNS OF PEOPLE WHO ASK YOU TO USE THEM. Unless they've told you otherwise,,,,

Anyways, I promise the next chapter will be up sooner than this one,,,

Signing off like always,,

Meg❤️.

[shaekingshitup]

Grindin

A/N: EEEPP. This is my first attempt at a reader insert. Reader is always gonna be black. I missed a many of days. Here is the day 3 prompt because I liked this idea! Kind of based off my favorite coffee shop. Maybe I’ll do more for this lil story? 💁🏿 The chime for the door is literally from this song here. 

Summary: Reader goes back home to open a coffee shop and meets a man that stirs some things in her. 

“I love the concept,” you commented, “ I know we were only interested in black and blue originally. But can you do a mock up with gold lettering as well?”

“YAS! THAT! I like THAT! exclaimed Ray

“Already done,” Lulu noted and pulled out a secondary growler mock up from behind the print that you were assessing.

“You know me so well,” you smiled.

“Yeah, your ass is kinda predictable” she smiled back which earned her a tongue out.

This was your first meeting of the month and so far everything was going great. You loved that you could live out your dreams with the two people you trusted more than anyone in the world. Lulu had been by your side since you both realized you were the only two Spelman freshmen who were both from Cali in your class.  By your second semester y’all were so inseparable that everyone thought you were sisters. And by year 2 you were already living together. Thank God y’all had separate interests which kept your friendship and now your business in a healthy and ever growing state. You were engrossed in the world of science. You had been a bio major who often volunteered at the local greenhouse. That helped you establish your small but busy coffee shop a year and a half ago. Lulu was a graphic artist whom also was in charge of all Grindin social media and the unofficial pastry taste tester. Ray had come along when the ladies were rooming together off campus. He was a community college to 4- year transplant at Clark Atlanta but the boy was born and raised in Macon, Georgia and he’d never let you forget it. It was evident that once he met the girls at a mixer in his first week, the friendship was a wrap. That spawned regular visits back to his parents’ homes on the weekends and even some holidays spent in the south. After graduation, the bond never broke. You and Lulu returned to Cali with Ray in tow so that he could use his business degree to help birth Grindin.

You glanced over to Sherell. The Brewista Lead for the morning shift. You knew that Sherell had been strugglin to keep up a healthy sleeping schedule with finals right around the corner and the nerves of her impending graduation from Lincoln. She was a sweet girl and you couldn’t stand to see her bare any more stress. You were so caught up in your thoughts about Sherell that you had missed the very clear topic change amongst your friends.

“Okay, but that nigga’s arms? They biggg. You know what that mean!” sad Ray pointedly at Lulu

“HA” she cackled, “ that don’t mean nothin’. My guy has really soft eyes and you know Y/N loves a guy who is easy on the eyes,” Lu quips

“Bitch, you see the caterpillar above those eyes? We don’t nee her birthin the next Helga Pataki in these streets”

“Ugh” you groaned as you rubbed your temple. “I don’t know how many times we have to have to do this but I do not under any circumstances want you two meddling in my love life,”

“But” they chorused.

“BUT NOTHING! Every human with an assumed penis and who looks like they got more than $150 in the bank becomes a contestant for your little game of ‘Win a Date with Y/N’! I run a coffee shop! Not a dating service. I’m done explaining shit to y’all. Stop harassing my customers and let my ass worry about who I am with! I mean that shit.”

“I told you we should have started addin females to the list,” whispers Ray as you walk over to the counter.

“Raymond Johnson the IV and Eyeluta Nicole Hathaway, if I hear one more word from either of y’all you both gone be banned from any pastries for the rest  of the month” you spat feeling like the unofficial mother of your group yet again. You took a deep breath and continued toward the counter. 

“Sherell, how’s it going?” you asked a you approached the register.

She sighed heavily.

“You know what? You need a break. Go in the back and relax your eyes a bit. I’ll man the front”

“Oh no. It’s really-“

You cut her off. “Get back there and relax a little. I think I know how to run a register,” you winked.

You were on the register and Antwon was pouring at the bar. You two were in a good rhythm. It was either bustling or there was one customer to tend to today. There didn’t seem to be any in between this morning. 

GRINDIN rang out as the next patron entered.

“Welcome!” Antwon called out as you were assessing the stock supply up in the floor.

When you turned around you were met with... Well, you weren’t quite sure how to describe him. Fine was an understatement. Standing six feet tall was a milk chocolate wonder with a physique that his dark turtleneck and three piece suit couldn’t hide.

Keep it professional y/n

Before you could even get a breath out he growled “Y’all really got Clipse playin every time the damn door open?” He said this with his eyes glued to his screen as if looking up was such a difficult feat to conquer at 7:32 a.m.

“Yeah. It’s a signature touch,” you responded to the stranger. At your voice, he looked up and offered a smirk that probably made most women collapse at first sight. You still hadn’t made up your mind though.

“I’m feelin it.”

“Is this your first time here? I’m more than welcome to answer any questions you have about the menu or the store in general” you offered.

“Nah. I’ve been in a time or two before. Never seen you before,” he very openly eyed you up and down, “I normally let my assistant handle this shit though, you know Miss… “

“Y/N. Well, since you’ve been here before then you’re familiar with our unique take on the menu.” you supplied.

“Yeah, y’all rotate teas and coffees quarterly. You seem to keep a few staples- which I ‘preciate and y’all got some corny ass names for these drinks too.”

You bristled a bit at that last part. “There’s nothing wrong with a little creativity.”

“Never said there was, Y/N” At this point you couldn’t tell if you wanted to serve this man or show him the door. You chose the professional route.

“So, what does your assistant normally bring you Mr…?” you trailed off

“Just Erik is fine. My favorite is the single origin. Black.  It’s always the best way to start my day.”

“Mine too.” you smiled. Maybe he isn’t so bad after all

“If you’re into the single origin and you love that bold, black, taste something similar with just a little more sweetness is Brew Thang.”

He chuckled. “See what I be saying about these names? How you expect a grown ass man to order a drink called ‘Brew Thang’?”

“It’s good. Once you have a taste, you won’t have a hard time getting it to roll of your tongue.” you sassed.

Oh fuck . I didn’t mean it like that. I gotta keep this professional. I don’t need a bad review from this guy.

He raised an eyebrow at you. “Oh really? Then lemme get a taste,” he said licking his lips. Your eyes widened slightly but he caught it. 

“Size?” you asked looking down at the tablet screen. 

“Large” he said with a bld and dark stare, “How much I owe you?”

“This one will be on the house. I want to make sure you’re satisfied.”

OH MY GAWD GIRL? WHO ARE YOU? WHAT IS COMING OUT OF YOUR MOUTH. PLEASE LEAD WITH YOUR HEAD AND LESS OF THE PUSSY

“Antwon, let’s switch. I’ll take the bar. You take the register!” You yelled out and quckly you two transitioned so that he could help the growing line of customer and you could bang out the drinks. Erik followed as you moved to the bar where he watched you work your magic. Once you were done pouring his drink you gave it to him. You got started not the next orders not the board but made sure to keep an eye on him as he took the first sip.  

“Fuck ma. This shit good” It was your turn to smirk. 

“That’s what I was trying to tell you. So now you’re hooked on the Brew Thang?”

“Oh yeah, I’m definitely satisfied.” You failed to hide your giggle as you called out that Ricky’s order was ready. Erik stuck around for a little after that inquiring about other menu items that you told him not be too quick to judge based on their names. The initial tension had dissolved and you two were in a comfortable rhythm of commenting on both the menu and the changes you’d seen in Oakland during the last few years. Thankfully there wasn’t a rush at the moment and it was fine for your to be off to the side of the bar answering any questions he could put forth. He was attentive to your passion regarding the menu and all that went into the shop as a whole.

“Hol up. You ain’t a barista. This is yo shit?”

“I prefer Brewista and yes. I do co-own this shop with my best friend Ray and we have a great Graphic Artist, Lulu, on deck too” The more he learned about you. The more he wanted to know.

“Okay Miss Entrepreneur. I see you. Damn, does that mean that you tha one that come up with these corny ass names then?”

You scowled playfully. “You keep talkin on my name and you gone catch these hands. I’m a professional. But I grew up on these streets. I can throw blows Erik,”

“My bad baby girl. I respect your grind.”

“Okay. So who really is the corny one here?”

“Whatever,” he smiled. A genuine smile with teeth and this made you want to melt right there. “Anyways, speaking of Brew Thangs, you got  a ni-“

His phone rang and he glanced down cursing. He put up his index finger and gestured that he just need one moment. You nodded your consent.

“What up T?”

In that time that he took his call, you looked up and saw that you had a line out the door. Sherrell came back out to the floor and your two were in a great rhythm getting through the 16 drink orders that had come up. When you looked up again, Erik was no where to be found. Now that the shop was stable you let Sherell do her thang and went into the back to re-convene with Lu & Ray.

“Y/N we need to get you an award for best employer. You really be out here goin the extra mile for your staff,” Lu said. You lifted the corner of your mouth in a weak attempt at a smile.

“Uh uh. Hoe what’s wrong?” Ray said noting your dejected spirt.

“Now? Now you listen to me?!” you yelled. “ALLL the time, I tell yo asses not to intervene in my love life and the one time it may have actually been beneficial y’all were no where to be seen!”

“I know she didn’t” Ray said.

“Yeah. She did” Lu, retorted. “I’m gonna ignore your funky attitude because I can see you’re going through something sis. What’s the deal?”

“I was talking to this guy. This man. And y’all he was so charming and sexy as hell and he wasn’t afraid to talk about shit that matters and I just turned away to make some drinks and he disappeared! I really thought he was gonna make a move. Or at the very least that you two would move in on him and make me sit through another awkward date. But nooooooo, you two finally decided to respect my wishes for once and now Imma die alone!” you monologued.

“You done?” Lu asked.

“Yes” you pouted.

“Aww come here baby,” Ray said with his arms outstretched, “I’m sure he’ll be back.” He hugged your frame tightly and rubbed some circles into your back. “Especially if you turned around when you were in front of him, cuz BABY GOT BACK!!” He yelled.

You and Lu laughed as he started smackin your ass and shakin his own. Soon enough you were all in the back twerkin like it was the first night y’all meet all over again. Hopefully he’d be back.

I’m sorry I forgot who to tag! Soooo if you got tagged and didn’t wanna be I’m sorry. The inverse is the same 😁

@twistedcharismaaa @raysunshine78

@ghostfacekill-monger @yoursoulstea 

@shewrites02 @sarcastic-sunshines

@thadelightfulone

[parkeraul]

boyfriend — prologue | s.m & t.h

warnings: cursing, smut, angst, drinking.

prologue | part 1

The term that describes exactly what’s in between the boys is quite a mystery. 

They’re far from being friends, but they’re also not declared enemies. Well, that’s what Harrison or Brian would probably answer if you ever ask them what’s the problem between your best friends? 

Around the college, it’s rare to see them actually arguing or coming for each other by the corridors or in the few classes they have together. But if you want to see things heating up, make sure you attend to the ‘friendly’ football match the guys from the Empshire University every friday after 5pm — when classes are over and the pitch is ready. It sounds childish, just like any regular boyish action if you may, but the atmosphere gets immensely heavier whenever both of them are playing in opposite teams. With that, you cannot say that Tom and Shawn aren’t exactly very similar, actually. Both competitive, both popular among people in college, both intelligent and passionate about art and its different forms. Oh, both annoyingly handsome in a way it gets most of the girls angry for not having a slight chance to trap them up onto a tightrope and call them boyfriend.  They both love going to the beach, having two or three bottles of beer and spend the rest of the day watching random sports on the TV when the day is free. 

But there are certainly lots of things that drifts one away from the other. 

Tom is a golf stan while Shawn is head–over–heels for hockey, for example.

Shawn is a helplessly romantic type of lover, might show up at your door and promise your parents he’ll drop you back home by 9. Long walks by the seashore under the moonlight — after buying you your favourite ice cream and complimenting your beautiful sundress, how amazingly well it fits you and highlights the colour of your skin. Shy touches, random love quotes and mentions of beautiful poems. Talks with you about dreams, about life and family, plans for the future. Wanna know the bands you like and what’s your favourite song ever. ‘Where’s your last name from?’ ‘What’s the class you like the least?’ ‘Do you love what you study?’. Timid & indirect flirting phrases — so he knows if it’s mutual by the way you either melt or step away — and wears his best cologne, hoping it’ll spark something inside of you. Typical Shawn Mendes. 

Tom, however, seems to be a lot more direct. If he wants you, he’ll sure let you know — probably through a joke, with a playful tone that carries all the sincerity. Festivals and crowdy — yet cozy — hangouts where you can both have an amazing time. Wants to get to know you better, making sure you know he’s paying attention to every word that comes out of your mouth by the way he looks at you so deeply, eyes shining as his irresistible smirk draws his lips. Laughs and happiness are priorities; soft but assertive touches on your hand as he walks beside you so you can notice he wants to hold hands with you; takes you to watch the city lights and goes crazy with you as your favourite song plays on his car’s radio. Stares at your lips intensely and dies inside whenever you poke your tongue out to lick them. Such a sucker type of lover, but you’ll only find it out if you stay long enough for him to trust you. Will make up dramatic scenes out of random situations to earn a laugh and wave you goodbye at your door, watching you disappear inside as he hopes your perfume is stuck on his cloth. Typical Tom Holland.

In between so many similarities and differences, there’s still a thing that connects Tom and Shawn more than football games and college classes.

Her.

When her frame crosses the rooms, it’s game over for both of them.  It’s ridiculous the way that she gets two grown–up men drooling for her effortlessly doing nothing more than just being herself. Call her a liar, but she swears she doesn’t sway her hips more intensely whenever she walks in front one of them. But it doesn’t matter, she could walk steady like a rock and it’d still light up a fire inside their boxers — to avoid saying heart because feelings aren’t part of the deal. It took a good while for her to surrender and stop messing around, finally step up and  give them a try. She always found funny the way they’d always try to impress her or melt her heart with their most incredible skills and stronger personality characteristics during the parties, or outside class begging to walk her home — getting nothing more than just her number, and then getting nothing more than a quick single response. 

No wonder why Tom enjoys reliving so much the day she finally softened up. 

“I’ve never imagined you’d be like this.”  “Like what?” Tom asks, moving tortuously slow as his grip strengthens.  “Kinky.”  She’s smiling so devilishly that he can’t help but do the same, squeezing the back of her thigh as he bends it more until the front part clinges to her boob. Like this, he gets more space to thrust into her deeper while he does his best to move closer, eyes glued on hers and lips brushing together with every push of his.  “Does that mean you had wet thoughts about me?” Tom whispers, feeling his mouth tickling hers as he rolls his hips unhurriedly. She gulps, enjoying the sensation of taking him inch by inch easily, once he’s getting soaked by her wetness and it makes his cock slide in and out deliciously.  Everything’s so deliberately intense that he can feel her core gradually swelling more, his length completely tightened inside of her warm heat holding him so delightfully. Even in his wildest dream, he’d never pictured this moment so perfectly with her looking so messily gorgeous under him. He’s sure amazed by her beauty, and now it seems to increase more his crush for her, if that’s even possible. She’s taken by surprise, noticing her throat going dry and chills taking over her entire body even though the temperature is hotter than hell. Tom never thought he’d see her weakening, but it’s not only real. It’s also priceless to watch her lips parting and eyes widening softly, pleasure mixing with the awe as he hits her g-spot with a forceful shove — which makes their skin slap together so loudly that it wouldn’t be unpredictable to get a knock on the door soon after.  “You’ve never answered my question, darlin’” He says sexily, capturing her bottom lip in between his teeth and sending her another hard stroke. She moans desperately, feeling the knot forming deep back in her pussy already supplicating for relief as it pulsates vigorously.  “Fuck, Holland,” Closing her eyes, she exhales sharply and takes a handful of the hair right above the nape of his neck. The other hand flies to his chest, scratching his flesh as it gets embellished by burning stripes of red. The strands of his chocolate hair are already a mess, making him look even more wrecked and sexy and his eyes are so dark that it matches with the atmosphere of the bedroom. “I just—”  “Just what?” And the bad thing is that his accent makes it all even worst. It’s impossible for her to resist the unmistakable sound of his voice — so unique and so sweet, but now washing her with desire as his tone falls one or two octaves and becomes low, raspy. Tucked deep inside of her, he makes quick and strong movements, knowing that he’s massaging her sensitive spot mercilessly by the way she starts squirming helplessly. Her moans turn into frantic cries, and Tom follows her because he can’t control himself and because he knows she loves when guys are loud also. He feels his cock throbbing just like her soaked walls around him and her hands instantly grab the headboard, while his fingers release her leg to curl around her throat. “Can’t even form a decent sentence, can ya?” He laughs under his breath and she swears she’s seeing stars beneath her eyelids. “Open your eyes, I wanna see you while I make you squirt all over my cock,” Tom demands, pressuring her throat a little bit more and as soon as she opens her eyes, it’s authomatic: they roll to the back of her head and flutter close again. “Open. Up.” 

With a huge effort, she does it lazily and finds his eyes already glancing at her. The moonlight breaking through the window is enough to illuminate their features enough for them to watch each other insanely dissolving in pure pleasure. There’s a glisten of sweat highlighting his defined abs and his hairline just like it’s also showing up on his lips, and she wonders if his tongue never gets tired of licking those pieces of plump skin everytime she clenches around him suddenly. Unexpectedly, Tom kisses her with a fiery craving and proves her wrong. From afar or licking inside her mouth, his tongue won’t ever get exhausted of teasing her. And she’s thankful, because the taste of sex stuck on their lips is insatiable. 

“Want to cum?” Tom breaks the kiss to ask through gritted teeth, feeling her gulping underneath his palm and she looks so damn beautiful all fucked like this.  But she only nods.  And he shoves his dick strongly at a point she thinks she’s never been hit this deep before, consequently letting her jaw fall in a silent scream.  “Betta use your mouth before I do.”  “Yes, daddy.”

That was such the perfect way to start the summer vacation, and that’s something they both know for sure. The bikini marks on her body contrasting with the rest of her tanned skin would remind her daily of a steamy week on the beach, definitely warmer in bed than on the sand. 

But by the end of the hot days — not naughtily speaking this time — the summer rain came to say and brought her a calming mood. A calm someone. 

She’s barely audible with the heavy rain pouring outside, drops hitting the ceiling harshly as she shivers  totally overpowered. Shawn’s tongue is lapping at her cunt devotedly, massaging her clit carefully, but not less intense at all. He’s savouring her like she’s his last meal, not believing his own eyes and, well, mouth too. It had never ocurred him that she’d taste this sweet and when he tries to reach her eyes, they’re closed and her face is serene. She’s got a defeated smile adorning her pretty face and her chest heavens beautifully, her hips moving delicately towards his wanting lips. 

It was hard to adapt herself to the softness at first, considering the feverish beginning of the season. But Shawn knew all too well how to ease her nerves with his skilled mouth, eating her out slow and passionate. She opens her eyes slightly to see Shawn’s lips moulding her pussy smoothly, taking her aching clit into his mouth and he looks like an angel down in there — flushed rosy cheeks under his hazel eyes, completely compelled by the sight of her splayed all over the bed so fucked for his mouth sucking on her now. Letting out a louder whimper, she takes his curls in between her fingers and rolls her hips provocatively. It obviously sparkles something inside his briefs and inside him, which leads Shawn to put one of her legs above his shoulder and circle her entrance with the tip of his forefinger. 

“Please, Shawn,” She begs under her breath, immersed in pleasure as her pussy swells under his control. “I need more.” 

And he can’t even pretend he wants to deny such a graceful requirement. 

In seconds, he inserts his finger all the way until it’s disappeared inside of her. He watches closely, forgetting to lick her purposely so he won’t miss this amazing moment. 

“More, baby.” 

He pushes the finger back and replaces it with his middle finger.  She thinks he might’ve probably understood it wrongly, but it’s just pure care.  He alternates fingers, one by one thrusting inside her soaked heat individually and she’s in the merge of losing her mind for fucks sake. Every move is too much and she’s not sure how long she can wait. 

When she considers sitting up to take the goddamn control, Shawn shoves the two fingers in a swift movement, making her back arch and a cry escape past her lips. This makes him smile, and he pumps the fingers with a certain strength as it gradually increases the wet sounds filling up the room. Every shove echoes throughout the space with smacking sounds and if she had ever felt her legs before, she doesn’t even remember. They’re trembling unstoppably as his mouth goes back on her sensitive bud, applying a heavier suction and flicking it with his tender, wet tongue. 

“Gon’ make you cum so good for me,” Shawn mutters against her, eventually switching from suctions to licks — from licks to suctions —  from suctions to kisses — from kisses to pumps. “So fuckin’ pretty taking me this well, eh?” 

And a lifetime would never be sufficient for him to compliment her enough. Even though he’s speechless to the view of her tanned body shaking more and more as she gets closer to her so–wanted high.

The thing though is that none of them had a single idea of what happened before the college days were back. And it’s true that the walls do have ears. Well, not all walls are made of concrete or bricks. Sometimes they’re ginger and tall, sometimes they’re blonde with blue eyes and a british accent.

“Dude,” Haz elbows Tom as he holds his beer still. “Don’t you think that there’s something wrong?”  “Nah,” Tom scoffs, taking a sip of his drink as they both watch her on the dance floor of Eryka’s party. By dance floor, it means large living room filled to the raftors. “She said ‘no strings attached’, so what? All the beginnings are fucked like this.” He explains, shrugging his shoulders like he’s got nothing to worry about.  “I’m not talkin’ ‘bout this,” Harrison says close to his friend’s ear and Tom follows his sight when he tilts his head back, catching the sight from all the way across the room. “A blue little bird told me she’s been seeing someone else too.” 

“If you keep staring they’ll know we’re talking about him,” Brian jokes, taking a single mouthful of his tequila shot.  “So what?” Shawn asks absentmindedly, toying with the empty beer bottle hanging in between his long fingers. “Maybe I’ll ask him to join us on some beer pong shit and finally check if what you said is true.”  “Wait, I didn’t say anything,” The ginger lifts his open hands in defeat. “Osterfield told me that. He could easily be fooling around.”  “Guess we’ll have to see, right?” This time, Shawn laughs. Maybe he doesn’t believe it at all. Maybe he doesn’t want to believe it might be true.

In between, there’s Eryka dancing with her to the beat of the music as she notices the fixed glare of the guys switching between her to each other.  “Don’t you wanna clear this up for these guys?” Eryka asks, grabbing her phone to check a message as she takes the last gulp of her drink.  “You know what do I really want?” She responds with another question, feeling the alcohol shoot some dirt and honesty to her intentions.  “Hm?”  “I want to suck him,” She comes closer to her friend and points to the left. “While he fucks me.” Pointing now to the right, she winks at Eryka and takes the empty cup from her hand, walking to the kitchen and hoping to be stalked by a very specific british guy and a very specific canadian boy.

𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱𝘀: @lostinspidey — @goldenmndes — @shawnsunflower — @jawnjendes — @itrocksmysocks — @emilyxkate — @itrocksmysocks — @tell-me-when-ur-ready 

let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist.

[paper-stars-and-fireflies]

Opening Night

The first story in the Grimm Omens series! The cast is mostly OCs, Magnolia, Ruya, and Kali are each mine, and Omen belongs to the wonderful @splanoot​. Thanks for reading!       Thursday night found Husker working behind his begrudgingly-beloved bar, same as most other nights. As usual, business was slow. Most of the hotel guests weren’t allowed drinks, and the few that were rarely stopped by. His only patron tonight was one of his few regulars, and his reputation was enough to make sure no one else stopped by.       “Little early to be starting the weekend, eh?” Husk asked, taking a swig from the bottle. Omen nodded, a quiet smile playing across the exposed slice of his face. Between the smoked visor cracked just wide enough to drink and the shadows of the dim bar, his face stayed hidden, not that it bothered either man. It was just part of their normal. 

     “Lighter workload this week.” Omen offered, lifting his glass in a mock toast. It was true, he’d had less tasks this week, but he wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about it. It was the third week in a row with less work than normal, in fact, and three weeks is a pattern. He pushed it away, taking a bigger sip from his drink than he meant to. Lilith was probably just busy with the extermination coming up, that was all, he told himself. It was fine, he told himself. Husk filled his glass without being asked, and the men continued to kill their bottles in silence, giving too much thought to the things they were trying to forget.      Their drunken epiphanies were pushed off a little longer when the hotel’s front door swung open and slammed shut, a cluster of figures stumbling in. One, a short, plump fox, helped another, a grey-skinned demon almost twice her height. The third, a shadowy figure, dissolved at the threshold, not following the women in.       “Take it easy now, Magnolia,” the fox instructed, steering her companion to a bar stool. The woman helped herself up, groaning slightly as she settled. The fox, Ruya, was a new resident at the hotel, and gestured to Husk for a glass. She patted the woman’s leg. “I’ll come and fetch ya later lassie. Ring me if you need me sooner.” She waved hello to both of the men before scurrying off, having to take her time on the stairs. Magnolia groaned again, slumping over the bar before Husk pushed at her shoulder, making her sit up so he could set a glass in front of her.       “You look terrible, Maggie. You just get back?” He waited for her to take a sip before asking, eyeing her. There were bloodstains and tears all across her outfit, and bruises, dark purple and blue bloomed across her grey skin, pink and red scratches puckering just above her collar. She swirled the class before answering, tapping her nails on the glass softly.       “Few minutes ago. Bad hunt.” She set the glass down and rested her face on her palm, her elbow on the bar. “I had to get bailed out. How long’s it been since that happened?” Her laugh was bitter and short, and she finished the drink before she continued. She glanced over, looking over the smooth contours of the helmet Omen wore, taking in the smoked visor, the jacket, the boots.      “I assume that’s your bike outside?” She ventured, turning to face her companion more. If she had something else on her mind, or if she recognized the name on his back, or the faintly glimmering revolver strapped to his hip, she didn’t let on. He nodded, slow, watching her. She shrugged, unbothered.       “It’s beautiful. Sure it rides great, too. Husk, can I get a couple shots for now? This hurts like all Hell.” She rubbed her neck as she spoke, picking at a scab absent-mindedly. Husk obliged, setting a pair in front of her. She stayed facing Omen, moving to hold her hand out to him before realizing her mistake and dropping it to her lap, wrapping her fingers around the sheath resting on her thigh.       “I’m Magnolia Grimm, I’m a hunter. I’m a friend of Ruya’s.” She offered a smile, nervous about her own bad manners. “Do you stay at the hotel?”      Omen took his time answering, watching her carefully. “Sometimes,” he said, pausing to drink. She averted her eyes. “Ruya’s a good kid.” He added. She nodded, taking one of her shots. She set the glass back down on a napkin, but didn’t reach for the other. She regarded him curiously, opened her mouth to say something, but then faltered and turned away, leaving Husk to pick up the pieces of the conversation. He dragged them both back into conversation, asking Omen about his last few jobs. Magnolia put in comments here and there, but was mostly content to stay quiet, feeling out how much of what she knew about the other guest was legend and what was truth. Today had been awful, so at least this could be interesting. She took her second shot, setting it next to the other for Husk to refill. He did when the conversation lulled. She took one slower, sighing at the taste. It didn’t burn as bad as when she was human, and truth be told, she missed it.       “Looks like Kali’s on his way to becoming an Overlord,” she offered up finally. “I’ll probably have to put off looking for Haw until someone handles him. Pretty sure it was one of his toys I ran into today.” She scratched at the scabs again, rubbing her hands together afterwards. Husk glanced at her fingers, noted her missing gloves. She pushed both of the shot glasses back to him just to distract him. He filled both and slid them back. She swallowed hard and fixed on her most winning smile - or least, it had been, before she had grown fangs.        “I don’t suppose you’d sell me a couple bullets.” she asked her companion, lifting one of the shots at him. There wasn’t any real hope in her request, but she offered it like a joke, an ice-breaker for their kind. His hand drifted to his holster, and she read the set in his shoulders as a no. With an unbothered shrug, she swallowed her drink and flipped the glass upside down. She slid off the stool, leaving the other untouched.        “ ‘m gonna go for a smoke real quick, Husk, watch that.” She muttered, digging in her pocket for a cigarette that wasn’t bent or cut. She snapped her fingers as she headed for the door, sparking a tiny flame for herself. Husk waited for the door to shut, watching her silhouette through the dark glass. With a harrumph, he turned to his long-time friend.       “Been a while since ya been this quiet. Cuzza the kid?” He asked, organizing the bottles for something to do. One didn’t stare at Omen. “Ya scared of a girl?” he teased.       “Not scared, just don’t know her.” He took a sip of his drink, “And don’t take kindly to someone asking for bullets.”      “Lay off, she was makin’ nice. Wouldn’ta took ‘em if ya gave them to her. That one don’t take help.” Omen just nodded. He could get the feeling, but had seen a lot of good men die from it.       “She’s lookin’ for her brother, so you know. Died before her and she hasn’t seen him since. Been lookin from the day she dropped in. ‘S goin’ on four years now.”       “She want him dead?” Omen ventured. That definitely wasn’t worth a bullet.      “Nah, they’re good. The one she’s try’nta kill is this lowlife from her past life. Fucker probably did her in, and now she’s convinced he’s going after overlords.” Husk tapped his claws on the bar, weighing just how much to say. Her hunting methods for one. Who had bailed her out, for the other. Fuck it, Omen had eyes. If he hadn’t caught on yet, he would soon enough.      “Should sort itself out then, yeah?” Omen shrugged, knowing first hand what Overlords were made out of.       “Not the way she tells it,” Husker mutters under his breath. “She’s a good kid, most nights, so don’t be a dick, okay? She comes by ‘bout as often as you. Same line of work, different jobs.” Omen nodded, one hand still resting on his leg by the holster. The men went quiet as Magnolia trailed back up to the bar, making small talk about the friends they had in common. She took her last drink, but didn’t sit back down yet, preoccupied by something on her hellphone.      “Hey, Husk,” She cut in when the men had paused. “Does that jukebox still work?” She gestured towards the machine, pushed against the wall between a pair of sofas and an impromptu dance floor. The lights on it swirled different shades of red, the rest of the machine done up in dark wood and gunmetal mesh screens. The glass panel over the CD changer had a crack, but all the buttons were lit up and useable.       “Don’t touch it, kid. That’s Alastor’s. He ain’t a fan of people messin’ with his stuff.”       “It’s fiiine, Husk, he won’t kill me over a couple songs.” she called, heading over. There was an extra sway to her walk that made Husk wonder if she was up to something, or if it was time to cut her off.  She took her time, poking through the catalogue and queueing up a list of songs, but true to her word, Alastor didn’t bother her. In the middle of a slower, jazzy piece, she came back to the bar, leaning both arms on the counter.       “Hey Husker, come dance with me.” She grinned again, looking more alive than she had before.       “I’m workin’, kid, dance by yourself.”      “Aww, that’s no fun, and it’s just the three of us. C’mon. One song. I’ll get another drink, we’ll be even. Sound like a deal?” She held up her palm and he glared at it, then eyed her, unimpressed. She snickered and put her hand back down, tucked into her other elbow.       “Fine, fine, pussycat. One more drink though, something sweet.” Husk grumbled, turning away to make her drink. She turned her smile to the legendary mercenary. She kept her hand down.       “What about you, handsome? You dance?”