#did a triple match between the hair the shirt and the shoes

[ignorancelive]

ok but have we considered that paramore is a band ⁉️

[robinsdearest]

Coffee for One

Dick Grayson x Reader

You had just single handedly pulled each of the tables and chairs inside the building when he arrived the first time. 

He was nicely dressed in a button down shirt and ironed pants, expensive shoes. He brushed past you as you were grabbing your small street chalkboard with an intense urgency, as if your store was closing in just a few seconds. 

Which it was.

You followed the man inside, brushed your hands off on your apron, and feigned a nice smile to appease him. He skipped the pleasantries and asked for a large triple mocha hot chocolate. You were positive that item was not at all healthy this late at night, but you shrugged, asked for his payment, and turned to make his monstrosity of a drink. You didn’t even question his tastes, you simply wanted him out of your shop so you could go home. You added the rest of the can of whipped cream to the top and dumped an ungodly amount of chocolate sauce before adding the lid. When you turn to hand the man his triple mocha hot chocolate, he’s staring directly at you. Not at the menu board above your tired head, not the counter of bean grinders, a chrome espresso machine, and a drip coffee tower- you. Exhausted, worn down, burnt out, coffee shop owner. 

Your breath caught in your lungs as his fingers grazed yours in exchange of the warm cup, a small spark of electricity you felt could potentially brighten your day. 

But he doesn’t even say thank you before rushing out, the bell above the door giving the only gratitude you’ll receive. He didn’t even tip. 

You hoped you’d never see him again. 

But you did. 

You had just turned the open sign off and were about to lock the door when he arrived the second time a few days later. 

You saw him coming and briefly debated how nice you were going to play. He was running towards you waving his hands, frantic. Earlier that day had been nicer, you had gotten more tips than usual, so you decided to repay karma for her good fortune. You held the door open for him as he fell through the doorframe, hurried and disheveled. You didn’t get a good look at his face last time he was here, but the way he looked at you felt the same, something unlike any other customer you had ever met. You thought maybe he needed something more than a hot chocolate. 

Which he did. 

He still skipped the pleasantries, but he ordered a shaken espresso, a latte with too many different flavors, and the same atrocious hot chocolate. As you’re punching the items into your register, he briefly explained he needed the hot chocolate to be made the exact same way you did last time. Emphatically. You shrugged, asked for his payment, and turned to make the drinks. While you waited for the espresso machine to whir back to life, you finally got a good look at this man. 

He was tall, his raven colored hair freshly cut and framed his face beautifully, just long enough to curl on the ends. A devilish jaw and cheekbone structure to match. You could tell muscles corded beneath his dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms looked well-fit, tight. Bright sapphire eyes reminding you of robin eggs that tracked your every movement. He was familiar in a way that all customers were familiar, many pretty faces, many people in and out. Maybe you had seen him elsewhere in Gotham as well. You gave him a customer serviced smile, one he finally reciprocated. It was strikingly white and dazzling and hatched a few butterflies in your stomach. Heat pinched at your cheeks, and you realized suddenly the milk was completely frothed and the steam was overwhelming. 

As you handed the man his drinks for the night, he verbally thanked you and left a crisp hundred dollar bill in the tip jar. 

You hoped you’d see him again. 

And you did. 

The man showed up every couple of days, orders drifting between only one drink and four or five different drinks at any given time, but the triple mocha hot chocolate was forever constant. It became almost normal, you thought. You’d even stay open a few minutes longer each night just in case. Just in case the unconventionally attractive man made his way to your door to show his lovely smile and alluring charm. Mystery man never said more than a few words, and you never pushed, but a small affection forged, a nice level of respect. He had learned to say hello and goodbye, but never much more. Friendship seemed too intimate a word for the interactions.

As you owned your tiny coffee shop in a high traffic area for tourists, you got a lot of customers, travelers and locals, kind and rude alike. Also as a small business owner, it was hard to keep a staff beyond just you. So naturally, you resorted to only keeping yourself employed- it made profits easier and the HR team was a delight to work with. On the other hand, when mornings got busy and the line for your coffee trailed out the door, it made you frustrated. Worried this was a war you couldn’t handle. Mystery man appearing every few nights, however, would remind you that the struggle was worth it. He gave you something to look forward to beyond the monotonous day-to-day barista career. The days he came to see you were some of your favorite nights. You hoped he would take that extra step or make the move that you were too afraid to commit to, too afraid to lose one good constant in your life. 

You were sitting behind your counter for thirty minutes after your posted closing when he arrived another day. 

Just his presence was electrifying, and you had to calm your racing heart before even looking directly at him, afraid you would melt into a puddle on the spot. Crisp dress shirt and pants, as if he had just put them on to come here, a sole mission to maybe impress you. Tonight he didn’t look rushed or distraught, yet he still he darted through your door with a nervous quickness that piqued your interest and cocked your head. 

“Hey there,” he cooed. His voice was sultry, velvety and smooth like hot mocha. 

“Hi,” you answered, easily and automatically matching his smile, as if you were sure his grin was the singular reason the sun awoke each morning. 

You stared at each other like that for a few seconds, heat climbing your cheeks to rest easily on the bridge of your nose and the tips of your ears. He always had this effect on you: sending your heart into overdrive and leaving your brain in the dust. Like you were back in school and your first crush was finally speaking to you. You were lucky making drinks were all muscle memory at this point. After the few weeks that he had been coming to your shop, you would have hoped he would speak to you more, asked you something beyond his coffee order. You spoke to people all day, every day- you wished someone would want to talk to you more than a series of caffeinated drinks. 

He cleared his throat, bringing your attention back to his face. You realized horrifyingly that your wandering mind had taken your gaze to his chest, strong and competent and muscled. Caught red-handed and starry eyed. You sputtered and coughed, the heat of embarrassment now torching your entire body. 

“I’m so sorry about that, must have trailed off. What can I get for you tonight?”

His grin turned nothing short of devious, and he chuckled quietly. He ran a hand through his hair before resting it on the back of his neck. If you knew any better, you’d say he looked almost sheepish. 

“Actually, I was wondering if I could ask for a barista style favor.” 

Your heart dropped, the little food you had in your stomach becoming heavy with disappointment. You had a little more of higher expectations for this conversation, but that was what you get for being optimistic. You surprised yourself with how quickly you mocked up a small smile that you hoped did not look as fake as it felt. You nodded for him to continue. 

“I want you to cater this work event we’re having next week, and it’s kind of an all day thing, so you’d have to close up shop here and come to the building.”

Your fake smile quickly crumbled as annoyance and irritation bubbled under your skin. Just another customer, nothing more. He was here for the coffee, but you reminded yourself you made damn good drinks. You shrugged indifferently, mentally building a formal wall around your head, heart, and voice.

“Sure thing. I’ll give you prices if you can just write down your name, company, and number of estimated people.”

You steeled your eyes to glare at him, yet he looked taken back, his lips curling down just briefly. He laughed, unsure and a bit forced. When you don’t return the laugh, his smile truly does turn into a frown. The moment turned awkward, neither one of you entirely happy where the conversation had gone. 

“Oh, come on. I’m all over the news.” You looked around your store as if to gesture to the lack of televisions in your line of sight. He shuffled back and forth on his feet and ran his hand through his hair again. Genuine surprise lit his features.  

“Wait, you really don’t know who I am?”

“No, I do. You’re the jerk that comes into the store minutes before and after closing.” The joking tone you intended was actually not the tone the was used. The man flinched, and you kicked yourself behind the counter. Play nice. “It’s been a very long day, could you just help me out?”

His hands shot up in a quick surrender in front of his chest. His eyes landed on anything but you. “No, no. I’m sorry. I don’t want- I mean, I just-“ He sighed loudly. “I did this backwards, I think. I’m going to start over.” 

You don’t give him a reaction, you simply watched as he rolled his shoulders and looked back at you. A type of determination in his eyes that you think you’ve only seen in superheroes, the vigilantes that ran the streets in this town. 

“My name is Dick Grayson, and I think your coffee is the absolute best in town.” An authentic smile graced his face again, and you’re back to your heart melting in your shoes. “I wanted to help your business a bit with an event. And then I was hoping you would go to dinner with me afterwards.” 

You’re shocked your jaw doesn’t make a sound when it hits the floor. He waited patiently for an answer that you easily knew but couldn’t find the ability to voice. You closed your mouth so that you could beam at this man- Dick Grayson- you corrected. A name for the mystery man. 

Your brain short circuited as quick connections were made.

“Wait, like the Richard Grayson? Like the Wayne Enterprises, a work event?” 

Mystery m- Dick, you corrected again- laughed, a deep resounding sound that eased any and all tension you had in your shoulders. It was on reflex that you echoed the action. His eyes soften with your laugh, and you thought he might like the sound. He leaned forward on the counter, placing both forearms down to inch closer to you. 

“See, you do know who I am. Is that a yes?”

You leaned forward as well to match his stance, your pinky dragging alongside his. 

“Of course it’s a yes. It’s also a yes for the work event.” Dick wrapped his pinky around yours in a promise. “So long as I get to meet the child who drinks the triple mocha hot chocolate.” You giggled again. The extremely handsome man you’ve just agreed to go on a date with looked like you just slapped him. 

“What do you mean ‘child?’ The hot chocolate is for me!” 

[tonesplash]

Bikini Lunchtime Part 2 (18+)

pairing: edward cullen x reader

warnings: smut ;), vaginal fingering, slight choking but not really he just puts his hand on ur throat, uuuuh getting caught kinda, reader has a mom

a/n: maybe a part 3 bc ed boy did get cucked

read part one here

"You're speeding." Edward lifts his mouth from the space behind your ear to remind you, and then goes right back to drawing your attention away from the speedometer.

"This is aAh-" You lose your concentration when his tongue swaths hotly up your throat before flicking back into his mouth when it reaches your earlobe. You can feel his smile against your skin. "A lot coming from the guy who hates driving below the triple digits."

One of his heater-warmed hands comes down to knead your thigh as he continues in his effort to wrap the both of you around a tree. "There's just one more turn, (Y/n), I'm sure you can manage." 

Yeah, that and like thirty-something trashcans you want to say, but then he's leaning in again, and without thinking, you clasp your non-dominant hand over his forehead to stop him long enough for you to concentrate. You weren't strong enough to hold him still, but Edward relents nonetheless and allows you to keep him in place as you do your best to park with one hand while he helpfully manages the parking brake. 

"You better make this worth my time, Cullen." You smile in anticipation as your seatbelt whips back into its holder. "It's cold as hell today, and I don't feel like fronting for the electricity bill."

”If you feel cheated at the end of the day, I'll pay it for you.” Edward grins as he kisses your temple and sits back in his seat to disembark.

He's lucky your neighbors aren't nosy because he appears at your car door in a flash, already reaching to help you out with your school bag slung over his shoulder and food trash neatly tied off in the bag it came in. You turn off the engine and hop out to meet him on the sidewalk as you trail towards the front door. You take quick notice of the extra weight in the bag.

"Why won't you just let me trash my car the way I want to? I saw the fries from under my seat were also gone this morning." You squint suspiciously at him over your shoulder as you blindly attempt to unlock the door while simultaneously intimidating him. 

”It was starting to smell like a compost bin.” Edward can only stand you fumbling with your keys for a few seconds before he just takes them from you and opens it himself. Once inside, he hangs your bag on the hook by the door while you slip off your shoes and shrug off your jacket in a vain attempt to make it upstairs before him.

”Well, I think your car smells like a Bath and Bodyworks, what do you think is worse?” You take the stairs two at a time while he effortlessly matches your pace, one hand on the small of your back to keep you from slipping.

”I’d say the health hazard. Without me, you'd definitely have roaches by now.” His dry laugh echoes from behind you and makes you giddy with anticipation. You playfully roll your eyes and shuck your shirt over your head as he opens your bedroom door. The way you eagerly shove and tug off your clothes down to your underwear is hardly a striptease, but it doesn't bother either of you as you scamper over to your underwear drawer to grab your new attire.

"Okay now you-" You hold the bundle of cloth under one arm as you grab his shoulders and guide him to sit on the end of your bed. "-stay right here, I'll be right back!" 

His chuckle follows you out into the hall as you scamper over to your bathroom and shut the door behind you. Your foot misses the leg hole of the bottoms three whole times before you have to stop yourself and take a steadying breath to calmly step into them like a normal person.  

Despite your clear excitement that he can no doubt smell in the air and read in your mind, you decide to tease him a bit as you approach the bedroom. You balance on one leg against the door, gripping the knob as you creep it open and stick your leg through the opening up to your knee. 

"Is this doing anything for you?" You giggle and wiggle your toes in the general direction of the bed.

"Be careful, (Y/n), when you fall through that door you're gonna be very embarrassed." You can still hear the smile in his voice as you almost immediately prove his point by taking an awkward hop forward to balance and accidentally exposing your entire leg at once in your effort to stay upright.

"I'm trying to think of what my entrance song would be but I'm coming up blank. You're gonna have to fill it in yourself." When you peek through the door, you can see his eyes have a laser focus on your thigh. 

"Cellophane." Edward replies without blinking. 

Confused and a little offended, you shove the door open all at once.

"That is so rude! What exactly are you tryi-"

Without warning, Edward crowds you against your door, one hand already lifting your leg to curl around his hip while he covers your mouth with his own. His tongue sweeps from your bottom lip to the roof of your mouth, sucking your tongue and making you shiver between the cold wood of the door and the hard plane of his chest.

His opposite hand strokes down your side, trailing lightly around your breast and ribs until it comes down to cup you through your bottoms. You gasp and break the kiss to bow your head into his shoulder and watch but he won't let you, the hand at your hip leaving to cradle the side of your neck, thumb resting over your windpipe, holding you steady against his mouth while teases you through the nylon.

You arch your hips into his hand and lose yourself in his taste, careful of his teeth lest you prick yourself and have him swear off frenching until the end of time.

Edward releases the kiss with a wet smack, the trail of spit still connecting your lips sticking to your skin as he dives lower to worship your throat.

Pausing his ministrations, he adjusts his hold to be firmly under your ass, his tongue gliding up your sternum as he lifts you above him in one smooth motion. You squeal and cling to his shoulders as he smoothly carries you across the room and gently lays you out amongst your pillows.

Edward climbs to kneel over you, ravishing your mouth with his own, one knee between your legs to grind on as his fingers creep up your sides to tease your breasts, kneading at first, then extending each thumb to play with the bud of your nipples when they strain against your top. The kiss becomes sloppier, spittle trailing down your cheek as you both lose yourself in the sensations.

Your growing desperation overcomes you when he lightly pinches the tips of your breasts, pulling away to shove the thin fabric under your chest, exposing yourself to the open air and his wanton gaze.

“So impatient.” Edward huffs a small laugh, spreading his cool breath over your chest, further pebbling your nipples. He maintains eye contact as he trails slow, reverent kisses down and over your breasts until you can feel the presence of his lips just beyond the skin. 

“For someone with super speed, you sure like to take your time.” You quip and arch yourself into him just as his tongue creeps out to flick against your nipple, eliciting a whimper before it grinds into the sensitive skin, pressing it flat before he snakes an arm under you to further prostrate your chest and sucking your teat into his mouth.

Your reaction is immediate and involuntary, a sharp gasp, spine arching to the nth degree, toes curling against his slacks until he releases you with a pop and pushes his leg harder into your slit, going back to sucking, licking, laving your bud against the cold slick of his tongue until it glistened between you.

You could hardly keep quiet now, moaning and squirming, tugging his hair as he switches sides,  hoping, praying that no one would come home early to find you like this. Edward sweeps his tongue over your neglected breast, bathing it in his spittle and sucking until the buildup of sensitivity becomes too much and you have to shove him away before you cum on his thigh and embarrass yourself.

“I would've liked it, at least.” He smirks before leaning in for another kiss, and laying down next to you, your core disconnecting with a wet smack from the stain that had soaked through to his pants. Your face burns red and your pussy almost feels numb with neglect until his lips are on your throat again and his unused hand pushes past your bottoms, gathering your abundant slick.

He scoots closer to your side, his arm a stark white contrast against your skin with his hand shoved into your bottoms, knuckles straining against the fabric while he rubs your clit into a frenzy.

"Oh, fuck," you moan and toss your head against his shoulder, sensations overwhelming. 

You feel dazed, unfocused, and you can't decide if you want to watch the near frantic movement of his arm or lose yourself in the dirty sounds and sensations and let your eyes glaze over. You think you can hear the front door open, but you're far too wrapped up in him to care.

Edward moans against your temple, empathetic to your pleasure as he switches tactics, two fingers slipping in, while his thumb continues stimulating your clit. It's a tight fit at first but the mild sting adds to your pleasure, and you raise a knee to give him a better angle. The fingers inside of you begin to curl, teasing that spot deep inside, and one of your hands immediately shoots down, death gripping the wrist working at you as you begin to throb.

"You're so wet, and warm." His words are breathless against your temple, straining to not groan full volume into your ear. You involuntarily clench around him.

"I can taste you in the air, and you're so sweet and soft, do you think I'll have time to taste you before anyone gets home, sweetness?" At the last word, he openly moans with you as his thumb rubs upwards, bypassing the hood of your clit while curling his fingers against the softest spot inside of you.

The effect is immediate, your cresting shout is hastily muffled by the palm of his unoccupied hand bracing over your open mouth, and you whimper when he doesn't stop grinding his fingers against that spongy spot on your inner wall, wringing as much cream as you can give onto his hand, even as whoever just came home pauses at the top of the stairs at the sound your blankets rustling when your leg jerks out with overstimulation. You reach out and hitch your knee upwards again to hold it still.

"Can you cum on my hand, darling? And not make a sound?" You sob against his palm. "I want to feel you cum on my hand again, but I can't do that if you're too loud, alright?" 

The nod you give is shaky and stifled by the restriction of his hand, but he has mercy as his fingers start to curl again, and you both watch them writhe under your bikini bottoms in the low light of your covered window, as they disappear in your heat and come up again with the slickest of sounds.

When your thighs stop twitching and the overwhelming stings of overstimulation build into a pleasant hum, Edward pulls his hand out and pulls away to undress, before disappearing in a blink when your bedroom door dents the wall, revealing your very pissed off mother.

Later that night you'd argue whether the loud schlick of your cum on his hand or the ensuing slap of your thighs slamming shut with your ruined orgasm is what got you caught playing hooky on a autumn weekday alone in your bedroom in nothing but an askew bikini.

[simpingforsoftboys]

Ways They Say “Ily” W/out Actually Saying It

Ft. Iwaoi and UshiTenSemi 

!G/N reader!

So this will definitely be a series! Next up is BokuAka and Kuroken followed by SakuAtsu and SunaOsaKita.

Iwaoi

Hajime always has a supply of yours and Toru’s favorite snacks/foods on hand at any given moment

He knows how much of a hassle it can be to have to purchase your fav. “pick me up” snacks on a bad day- so he takes restocking very seriously

Speaking of food

Every once in a while he’ll make your favorite meal for dinner- just because he has the extra time, he claims- but in actuality making you your favorite food makes him feel closer to you

He’ll also do your laundry and put it away too! As well as perfectly iron your work uniforms and/or dress outfits

He’ll even wash your guy’s shoes and polish them too, but not say anything about it 

If ya’ll don’t thank him, he won’t be sad, but he wants to at least hear that you noticed!

Toru is an Olympic athlete and you’re their lovely s/o- he’ll be damned if you two look anything less than like a model off a magazine

One last thing is how he lets you two cuddle up to him in the morning- after his second alarm has rung- and during his morning run time

It’s the way that he holds you two close and steady in his strong arms, letting you hear the thrum of his heartbeat and/or his calm breathing

Hajime won’t show his love verbally, most of the time it’s shown through little acts of service/skin ship

He’s a quiet but domestic sort of lover

Toru is... pretty lazy in terms of household chores

He’s not really one to care too much about mundane things

His love needs to be shown in big, extravagant ways

Like he’s the type to take you to the beach in summer, just to rent a gigantic lounge float- the type that’s main use is for day drinking- instead of taking you to a bar

Yes it’s relaxing but at this point why not just go to the local pub or something? It’d be cheaper- oh right because he needs to show Instagram that he’s an exceptional lover *cue eyeroll*

Nah, it’s actually because he wants to give you the best of both worlds- that of comfortable luxury and drunkenly passionate intimacy

Sometimes it annoys you and Hajime with how open he is with his love life on social media

But I promise it’s only because he loves you two so much and feels the constant need to brag about you

He does show it in smaller ways too

Like by holding the door open for you two, carrying your bags when shopping and paying for your purchases before you get the chance to even try

He’ll also take note of you and Haji’s current interests and occasionally buy you something *really* nice that he thinks you’ll love

He’s an open guy, but for you two he’ll willing indulge in the quiet moments of life

It’s okay if the rest of the world doesn’t see these moments- the ones where it’s just you three- like when you’re all in a bubble bath sipping that expensive champagne that costs way too much- and enjoying the way the tubs jets massage your back muscles. 

Or when it’s 3 in the morning and he wakes up feeling hot and sweaty, only to find himself trapped between the loves of his life- and not having the heart to wake you up

Not even when Hajime drools on his shoulder, or when your hair tickles him through his shirt

Toru is loud and outspoken but it’s his quiet moments that really show his love for ya’ll

UshiTenSemi

Wakatoshi doesn’t really perceive things like most people

This includes romantic actions

He’ll do something if he feels it needs to be done- not out of love, but because it’s the most logical thing to do- and you three know that

I think his unspoken way of telling you he loves you is when he goes out of his way- logic be damned- to do something specific

Like that one time you wanted to buy the newest gaming console but all the pre orders were sold out, making the only way for you to get one “first come first serve”

This man decided that for you, it was okay if he didn’t follow his routine to a ‘t’

He said goodbye to his sleep schedule and awoke at 2:25 in the morning to make his way to the nearest Yamada Denki to stand in the freezing cold for nearly 6+ hours until the store opened.

He beat majority of the crowd and got you your console, even though he was 51,896 yen poorer, and his sleep schedule would take the rest of the week to get back on track, he decided it was all worth it to see that wide smile on your face

When he’s home he’ll wash some fruits and veggies for you guys and serve them to you on little snack trays to curb your appetite until the next meal 

Speaking of food- he definitely cooks a light breakfast for ya’ll before he leaves for morning practice

Husband material right here-

Toshi’s love is like gravity in a way

There’s set laws of nature that applies to it- unquestionable and unchanging; something you’re perfectly understanding of- but the slightest change of it is so noticeable that it leaves you in a state of surprise, making you appreciate all that he had done before in a new light, and looking forward to seeing more of it during your daily life.

Satori is a sap and for what-

Like he’ll make all of you delicious little chocolate treats (but Wakatoshi’s is made differently so that it’s more healthy... because he’s an athlete and needs to watch his diet)

On that same note Eita can’t have much chocolate either... since it’s actually able to cause phlegm... oh well more for you I guess

When you oversleep he wakes you up by digging his long, w i g g l y fingers into your sides and TICKLES you

It’s a really nice way to wake up actually- laughing your sleepiness away

He loves seeing your laughter induced teary eyed gaze and wide smile in the morning- it fills him with more energy than a triple mocha frappe.

Something else he likes to do is have you lie on top of him and trail his fingers up and down your face

I mean this guy probably has A L L of your facial features memorized- but he really just likes to look at you- and see you gazing back

That last one is something only you and him do- Eita gets too flustered if Satori even tries, and Ushijima would just... kinda smile oddly, stare, and lay really still? Yeah as much as he loves your awkward miracle boy- it’s not as fun when he’s still as a statue and not relaxed

When he’s not being cute, Satori is dragging you three into his random adventures

Like it could be literally 1 am and he is up and raring to go to the beach

Ofc he won’t force anyone to come with him- but it’s not quite as fun without someone accompanying him

Occasionally he can convince Toshi and Eita to join- but for the most part it’s just you and him

Ya’ll always have a blast and make a bunch of fun memories

Did I mention that he comes to you first before your other two partners when he wants to go adventuring? Because he does-

Sometimes you go to watch the sunrise in his car but binge watch anime while waiting for the sunrise

He’s a spontaneous, fun lover- and he has the most fun when it’s with you

Eita is... surprisingly romantic too?

Like damn he writes love songs about your foursome RELIGIOUSLY

Hell over the course of your 5 or so years together he has written nearly 7 full albums dedicated to ya’ll-

Guess you’re an inspiration or smth

Even if you can’t sing WHATSOEVER this mans rose colored glasses effects are so prominent that he could listen to you for hours on end

No but seriously he is so obsessed with everyones voices (not that he’ll say it but like it’s obvious at this point)

I mean ya’lls vocal ranges are just so different!

Obvi Toshi has a bass voice, Satori has more of a baritone one (though he really does try to pass off as a tenor for some reason)- and then there’s you- it’s so interesting to him to hear you guys talk to each other (and sing-) because of how your voices overlap

He’s the type to buy you roses whenever he’s feeling extra appreciative and maybe a new set of lingerie or some silk night wear

I don’t know why but despite his extensive collection of leather EVERYTHING, he really enjoys seeing you in expensive, clothing

And then he won’t shut up about how attractive you are XD

Oh but he’ll also buy all four of you matching silk robes too so you can be comfy together

But don’t be posting about it on social media or anything- these are for your eyes ONLY! No one else should get to see his partners like this but him

Don’t even get me started about date nights

Because he’s insisting that everyone wear something of his

Dude you only have leather clothing wdym-

Unfortunately there’s a slight issue since everyone’s different sizes so he does the next best thing

He commissions custom made leather jackets for ya’ll

They have your initials and everything

Black leather with white and lavender print- reminiscent of Shiratorizawa days long passed

Eita appreciates all of you in his own cute ways, and loves seeing little bits of him on you because it makes him feel connected to you even more

[jeonjeonggukenergy]

Anti-Hero

summary ~ in search of wine at a party that’s so not your scene, you run into jungkook, the weeb from your film class, and become determined to learn just how much he lives up to his big reputation.

pairing ~ jungkook x reader

genre ~ fluff, smut - college!au

wordcount ~ 8.5k

warnings ~ 18+ only! smut, explicit discussion of kinks/sexual preferences (yay healthy communication), dom/sub undertones during both discussion and sex (dom Jungkook, sub reader), mentions of daddy kink and degradation but both are a no, marking, biting, hair pulling, spanking, they both have a srs pain kink lmao, brief oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, creampie

a/n ~ SO excited to finally have this chapter out for yall! it’s a huge one and i’ve been working on it for quite a while, this includes the first full smut scene for this fic and i would love to know how yall like it or any other feedback. i really enjoyed writing the character development in this chapter too! they’re so cute and whipped for each other already hhhhhh. thank you so much for loving this story so far, i’m really looking forward to writing the rest. hope you enjoy! ❣️

previous: chapter 1 | chapter 2 ~ next: chapter 4 (coming soon!) 

~ read on ao3 ~

CHAPTER 3 ~ particular, perfect

You concluded your walk home by ditching your shoes at the door, swinging your bag off your shoulders to the floor, and plopping down onto the couch immediately. Pulling all three nearby blankets over yourself, you realized you still weren't quite comfortable. You looked around for a second, puzzled, until an absentminded clutch of your boobs reminded you why. Triumphantly, you reached into a sleeve to untangle your bra and chucked it across the room with a deep stretch of relief. Okay, time to overthink again.

Jungkook? What the fuck?

Wait. A bag of chips on the kitchen counter caught your eye before you could descend any further into panic. The perfect emotional crutch. You clutched it to your chest like a safeguard against your own internal monologue, anxiously shoving handful after handful into your mouth. After about thirty minutes spent motionless on the couch with one hand shoved in the chip bag and the other distractedly scrolling through Twitter, your eyes suddenly widened and your hand froze, dropping your next bite of chips back into the bag. Fuck. You had just eaten nearly an entire family-size bag of chips before what could end up being your first fuck in over a year. Well, maybe this was part of why you hadn't gotten fucked in over a year. No, don't go there. You shoved down your own insecurity, knowing you'd just been too busy for a relationship and honestly, probably still were. But that wasn't going to stop you today.

You shook the chip dust off of your hands and got up to head to the shower, turning up your trashiest throwback playlist of getting-ready bops and resolving to at least shave your legs. Going in with no expectations was probably the best strategy here, but it never hurt to be prepared.

~

Having cleaned his apartment in record time, Jungkook was now at the gym. After triple-checking that his roommate Jin would be in rehearsal until 10pm at the earliest, he quickly scanned all the common spaces and his bedroom and realized he didn't actually have that much work to do besides politely closing the door to Jin's still-decent-but-somewhat-messier room. To be honest, Jungkook had mainly bought himself the time after class so he could shave just in case. But then he figured if he had to shower, he might as well hit the gym first. So here he was, burning off an unprecedented amount of nervous energy. Settling comfortably into the leg curl machine, he turned his music up and started on a low weight to put in reps until his thighs burned and his head felt pleasantly empty.

After completing his normal leg day rotation and dutifully stretching, Jungkook prepared to head home. He walked out of the gym feeling more energized and centered, barely even flinching when he switched his AirPods off to say bye to the nice girl at the front desk and the action accidentally blasted "Whistle" by Flo Rida from his phone speaker for the whole lobby to hear. As he walked back into his apartment, the kitchen clock let him know it was only 4:30. He had plenty of time. Jungkook hopped straight into the shower, shampooing his hair, shaving everywhere he normally did, and savoring several extra moments to relax his muscles under the hot stream of water. Finally, he toweled off to wrap up in the black t-shirt and cozy matching sweatpants he'd carefully stacked on the counter. Offhandedly singing to himself in the steamy mirror, he checked the time on his phone, deciding he might as well go ahead and text you before he got nervous again and did something stupid. Like chickening out completely.

hey its jk! im ready when u are :) my apt is 344 glencoe rd #1521 (yes its on the 15th floor sry D: )

His charming old-school smileys lit up your phone while you still had a leg perched on the bathtub's edge.

"Fuck!" you reacted. The hiss resounded, thanks to the too-good acoustics of your cramped bathroom. Your razor clattering to the floor, you paused your max-volume 2000s music to check the message, and then the time. Only 5! That wasn't dinnertime yet. Plugging his address into Google Maps, though, you realized it was a 15- to 20-minute drive from yours on the opposite end of campus. Even if you got ready at light-speed, you would get there closer to 5:30. Which was a bit more reasonable. He was being reasonable! You should be ready by now!

You leaned over to pick up your razor and cursed again as the water stream grazed the blouse you'd left on out of laziness. You'd showered this morning, so there was no need to repeat that with your shave, but now you'd have to change outfits completely. Feeling like an idiot, naked from the waist down but now all the way wet, you peeled the shirt over your head slowly to preserve your good hair day and glanced down at the dilemma you'd been facing. The patch of hair between your legs stared back at you like the final boss of stupid societal beauty standards. You'd only shaved down there once, as an anniversary present for your first boyfriend the summer before college, and it had been a fun, smooth novelty for about two hours and then itchy, red, gross-looking, and miserable for about three weeks. Also, it had kind of made you feel like a little girl, which creeped you out when you thought about why guys would prefer it. You'd been debating whether to try it again for the past fifteen minutes, because if there was ever a right time, this was probably it. But now you didn't have time, if you were going to be respectful and not keep Jungkook waiting. Well, this was the real you. He could take it or leave it.

Slathering a quick coat of lotion over your freshly shaved legs, you prepared to get dressed in a soft pastel sweatshirt and a flattering pair of workout shorts. Wait, should you wear lingerie? Was that too try-hard? You didn't really even need to wear underwear with these lined shorts, which could be a cool-girl move, you supposed. You settled on a cute white sports bra to go with the shorts, not wanting to deal with a real bra and hoping it still appealed to Jungkook's casual, athletic style. You checked yourself in the mirror briefly before grabbing your bag, confirming you looked chill enough but still felt like your best color-coordinated self. Heading out, you shoved a tin of chrysanthemum green tea in your water bottle pocket. Why not?

~

You whizzed over to Jungkook's apartment, yelling along to "Sex With Me" by Rihanna from your throwback playlist to hype you up in the car. When you knocked on his door after a nerve-wrackingly long elevator ride, Jungkook welcomed you with a "C'mon in!" amidst a mouthful of shrimp chips.

"It's not really dinnertime yet," (yeah, no kidding, you thought) "I went ahead and worked out but it's still kind of early, so I figured we could just have a snack and do the homework first."

"Sounds good," you affirmed. "I'm not really that hungry," (read: there's no way I can eat chips AGAIN right now, I'm going to bloat so badly) "but I brought tea so I can go ahead and make that if you want some too!"

"Oh cool, thanks!" Jungkook accepted. "Are you sure you're not hungry though?"

You almost gave into his sweet pout, but managed to convince him, and soon you both sat at the table with laptops open and twin cups of tea. You had a blast working together for the first time, acting out your "conversation" for the discussion board and pretending to respond spontaneously to each other's points like you hadn't already excitedly rambled back and forth through them in real life. You hit "send" five minutes apart, your idea to not seem too suspicious, and kept raving over Rear Window in between. As the sun lowered outside his living room window, you moved on to making the ramen.

After three offers to help Jungkook, all of which he denied, you simply made another steep of the tea, leaving a mug on the counter for him. Standing at the bar counter sipping yours, you enjoyed all the tiny, cute noises he made while chopping green onions and sprinkling extra garlic in the seasoning, like an anime character who came with his own sound effects. You could tell he made these recipe additions every time, because bulk quantities of the same simple ingredients lined the counters of his cozy kitchen. When he beat two eggs and dropped them into the pot, though, he couldn't seem to find a lid, and eventually settled on trapping the steam with a plate. You both waited on the egg for a silent moment, your foot bouncing under the bar while Jungkook restlessly acquired a slight wiggle. As he took a sip of his tea, a strand of hair fell over his eyes, and he yeeted it out of his face. Your inner language nerd cringed, but there really was no more apt word to describe the action.

You offhandedly said you liked his hair long, and he replied with a smile, "Maybe I'll have to keep it then."

"Do you like it too?" you wondered.

"Honestly no, it's kind of inconvenient."

"Oh, then why would you keep it?" you immediately asked back.

"Well..." he dragged out. "You like it? Maybe I should keep it if it looks better this way."

Your eyes crinkled appreciatively at his thoughtfulness, but then you backtracked. "Wait, no, it's okay! If you don't like it, don't feel like you have to keep it just because of something I said. You can do whatever you want."

"Hm, yeah." A demure smile tugged up the corner of his mouth as he lifted the plate from the ramen pot.

You watched him drag a chopstick through the floating, now-cooked egg to tear it into ribbons, then divide the noodles between two generously-sized bowls. He carefully wiped down the drips of broth from each bowl before sprinkling in his fresh toppings, then walked with you to the table.

Serving you with a pleased smile and a slight nod, he announced, "Dinner!"

"Wow," you mused playfully. "So gourmet."

"I'm really particular about my ramen," he admitted. "I have it down to a perfect routine at this point."

You took your first slurp of his particular, perfect ramen. "Well, it's really good. I'm impressed. And thanks for making me dinner, you didn't have to do all that."

"Oh, come on, it's instant ramen," he laughed. "Nothing special. And you brought the tea, so thanks. And thanks for coming over. And doing the homework with me. And...yeah." Rambling again. Why did he seem so...nervous? You were nervous. He couldn't be nervous. What reason did he have to be? But the twitch of his mouth under his wide eyes, his slightly reddened ears, his hand skittering over his neck—fuck—to ruffle his hair...every action turned another page of his open book. It felt infuriatingly unfair that genetics had assigned someone so sweet and shy and unsure of himself to that fucking body.

While you both ate and talked, you kept catching glimpses of any small flashes of skin you could find, as his long sleeves fell to expose his forearms and the wide neckline of his boxy black shirt gaped around his collarbones. What was wrong with you? Even if this did eventually turn into a dick appointment, the boy still had literally all of his clothes on. You tried to refocus on finishing your noodles, while your brain screamed at itself in shame that you could get this turned on by the sight of someone covered from neck to ankle.

Jungkook ate surprisingly slowly, probably because he kept pausing to excitedly explain his favorite things about the Cowboy Bebop episode you were about to watch together. You smiled into your tea through every out-of-context fun fact and "wait, sorry, that might have been a spoiler!"

Finally, he reached the bottom of his bowl and insisted on both taking your dishes to the sink and leaving them for him to clean later. "You sure you want to start on episode 2? Not 1?"

"Yeah, I remember well enough and your summary helped a lot too!"

"Okay, if you're positive!" he double-checked, grabbing the remote.

Gingerly lowering yourselves to the couch in sync, you avoided looking at each other as you both tried to calculate a comfortable distance between you. His hand looked ready to either hold yours or lower to your thigh, but he retracted at the last second, smoothing it over his own leg anxiously and still clearly itching to make a move. You shuffled closer to him until your thighs barely touched, and he shifted to slink an arm around you, letting your head rest on his well-muscled shoulder. After pressing “play”, he began wiggling slightly again, subconsciously grooving to the old-newspaper-style intro. Spike Spiegel appeared on the screen, his broad shoulders squared into a slouch as he listlessly watched TV. Jungkook kicked one leg over another and stretched his arms out symmetrically to echo the pose. Raising an eyebrow, he waited until you acknowledged him with a faux grimace and a hand to your ear, imitating the old man in a lab who’d just called up Spike for a new mission. You both burst into laughter and settled back into your former arrangement, Jungkook holding you imperceptibly tighter. Though you tried to stay staring straight ahead, wanting to genuinely appreciate the anime, you kept catching his doe eyes in the corner of your sight as you both giggled and gasped your way through the episode.

After avoiding eye contact too many times, you finally tilted your head for a cute sideways view of his face. He leaned toward you too, shyly closing the gap to touch his warm lips to your nose, then lower. You responded immediately, rolling your body with his so your chests met as he pulled you up into a full, deeper kiss. The longer you explored each other's mouths, the more Jungkook punctuated your movements with whimpers. He seemed hesitant to let his hands roam away from your face and neck, but his high, breathy moans made it clear that he was just as into this as you. Your hands had naturally found his taut waist, and at some point you started to bring them back up to his face too—but as your short nails grazed his chest, a particularly sensual, voice-cracking moan interrupted you. You drew back in slight surprise, blinking your eyes open to scan from his face to his body.

He followed your gaze, both slowly settling on the massive tent in his pants. You froze. Your breath grew heavier, confronted with evidence of his physical attraction to you, if nothing else. After regaining his composure, he laid a useless hand over his lap in a delicate attempt to distract you and brought his other hand up to tap your face lightly.

"Is this okay?"

His eyes glittered with equal parts hunger and concern.

"Yes!" you nodded, too quickly, too eagerly. "Yes, this is totally okay. Sorry if I'm being weird, I just...it's been a while." You cringed internally at your own words, but couldn't seem to avoid putting your foot further in your mouth. "I haven't really, like, hooked up like this before—like, I've had sex, but never really outside of a relationship. But don't worry, I get this is more your thing, and I'm totally down if you are. I just don't really know what I'm doing, and you clearly do."

Jungkook blinked at your admission, then his face twisted into something curious, inscrutable. Would he decide you weren't worth the potential for drama? His lips flattened out to a tight line, then pursed to speak, and you looked down at your lap, hoping he wasn't as embarrassed of you as you now were of yourself.

"Well, I've never had sex sober."

Your eyes flashed back up to his. A complex half-smirk offset the furrow in his brow as he exhaled in nervous relief. "So, I don't actually know what I'm doing here either."

You tried to delay your response as you processed the implications. "You mean..." You tilted your head for better eye contact, hoping to convey empathy but not pity while you silently contemplated how to proceed. "Never?"

"Yeah, I've always shown up to parties and the hookups just...happened. Nothing I didn't want, nothing bad like that, but always spontaneous. So I guess we're kind of meeting in the middle, because I've never really had to plan ahead for a situation like this and, uh, figure out what I want. Beyond, yknow, wanting to get laid in the moment, of course." Jungkook laughed off the end of his explanation, but the smile never quite hit his eyes.

"Well, okay, let's pause right there." You sighed. Something in his words didn't sit right with you. "What do you want? I want you to be sure about this, of course, but more than that, even—what do you like?"

"I..." he chuckled, sheepish, shaking his hair over his face again. "What, you want me to just tell you? Like, what I'm into?"

"Yeah," you shrugged, trying to project more confidence than you felt in hopes of encouraging him to keep opening up. "I want you to be able to communicate, I want you to be comfortable. And I want to know what you like, so I can make it as good for you as possible."

With your hands still laid flat on his chest, you felt his heart rate jump a tiny bit, and took the liberty of digging your nails in just slightly deeper. His breath caught him, and then he caught himself. "I don't know, I just want what you want."

Jungkook struggled to appear nonchalant as you rolled your eyes with an "Oh, come on," challenging his avoidance. Every instinct was telling him yes. He could hear his mind screaming at him to be intentional for once and let you take him, if not farther, then deeper than ever before. But he still hesitated, because being intentional in this case required him to be real. He had always been a fairly private person, but something about you made him feel so comfortable so fast that it counterintuitively made him more nervous. Of course Jungkook knew you weren't all innocent at this point, but the risk remained that you wouldn't really be down for everything he secretly wanted to explore. Even worse, though he didn't truly think you would, you could easily turn around and spin anything he revealed into yet another graphic rumor. Especially since you had no skin in the game yourself. He glanced down at your fingers, tensed into his chest, and narrowed his eyes.

"Why don't you tell me what you like first? And then I can tell you where we overlap," he grinned competitively. Your eyes widened as he tossed the challenge back your way. Not backing down, you flattened your hands and steeled yourself to settle the stakes.

"Fine—but only if you promise not to just go along with whatever I say. I'll let you know anything that's a hard no for me, but otherwise I want to hear at least one thing that's not on my list. I really do want what you want, that's how I am too, okay? So..." you paused to slide your fingertips over his collar and drag it down with a light scratch, now directly on his skin. You smiled with your eyes, enjoying the way he naturally responded with a hitch of his breath again. "Surely you can think of something specific."

He nodded quickly, before he could convince himself to back out. "Yeah. Promise."

"Okay," you confirmed, slightly nervous but determined to go through with this, for Jungkook's sake if anything. Seeing his body come alive with each new twist of the situation was building your curiosity, not to mention turning you on beyond belief. You could barely stand the warmth of his skin under your hands, so you drew them back to fold in your lap as you began. "So. Uh. To start. I've never really laid it all out like this either. I really like neck kisses? Like, a lot." Equally unused to this kind of directness, you wrung your hands together nervously, but sucked up the boldness to keep elaborating. "That's definitely, like, a big thing that turns me on...and then getting marked up and everything is really hot to me too. Like you can honestly go really rough with me on that, bite me even. I don't know if this is weird but even though it's annoying to cover up, I love taking off the makeup at the end of the day and seeing all the bruises on myself. Knowing I was walking around all day with that as my little secret." You swallowed shyly before continuing, but Jungkook interrupted the brief silence immediately with a hushed "Fuck."

You turned to face him fully and he didn't even move to meet your stare, eyeing the space above your sweatshirt's wide neckline like he was ready to devour you. Emboldened, your smile grew.

"So...yeah. I like being bitten, marked up. Mostly, uh," you rubbed a slightly trembling hand over your shoulder, "I'm just really into pain in general. Obviously not the bad 'I'm too dry and you're jackhammering me' kind of pain, or like, anal. Anal is a hard no. But things like biting, or hair pulling, or overstimulation. Or, like—I don't really know how to explain this, but...getting held too hard? That deep pain like when you get a massage when you're sore and it hurts but it's good, yknow?"

Jungkook looked like he was about to vibrate out of his skin, breathing shallow and rapid. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, just in time for you to whisper in conclusion:

"I love that feeling."

You suddenly looked away, reticent. A thick silence swelled between you, until he composed himself enough to punctuate it. "Okay. Yeah. Pain. So like, BDSM?"

"I mean, kind of? Sure? I don't have much experience with that and I don't really need the whole power dynamic aspect; I just like the, uh, physical pain. I wouldn't be opposed to trying further, but one thing I do know is I really don't like being degraded. And I'm not into the whole daddy kink thing either. I'm just not gonna call you that, sorry," you laughed, and fortunately he giggled too. "But I know that's not, like, necessary to the rest of BDSM, and the part about giving up control is still...interesting, for sure."

"Wait," Jungkook cocked his head, making a mental note of your last sentence before he went back to the previous one. "What do you mean, being degraded?"

You half-chuckled, half-cringed, never having needed to explain something like this, especially to a guy you hopefully were about to fuck. Cheers to better communication, you supposed.

"You know, how some people when they do dirty talk are like 'yeah, you little slut, you're such a whore.' I don't like being called any of that. Like it's fine that other people like it, there's nothing wrong with that, it's just really uncomfortable for me."

His brows knit together as you explained, and he shook his head so fast it almost looked cartoonish, like a little kid refusing vegetables. "Yeah, no. Don't worry, not really my thing either."

You sighed in relief. "That's nice. I feel like it's, like, weirdly common with guys. Maybe just the kind of thing people learn from porn."

"But you still like it rough, huh? Did you learn that...from porn?" he half-joked, trying to overcome both his shyness and his gritted-teeth arousal.

"No, I don’t like porn. Most of it’s really unethical. I learned from experience," you sassed back. "I don't have a whole lot, but enough to know what I like."

"Well. Hm." He worked his tongue over his teeth, poking one cheek out over his tensed jaw. You couldn't get enough of watching him grow fascinated by your every revelation, and you were preparing to keep pressing further when he beat you to it, posing a question. "Is there anything you haven't tried before, but really want to?"

Your face heated up instantly, tasting your own medicine. You looked back to your hands, breaking his intense eye contact to give yourself the courage to be even more uncomfortably honest. "I...I...um." Your first attempt at disclosing your fantasy came out as a squeak. Swallowing, you set your shoulders and tried again, selfishly reminding yourself Jungkook seemed so eager to please that this was 99% likely to get you exactly what you wanted. "I've always been, uh, really into the idea of, um, getting spanked. I've been, uh, too nervous to ever bring it up, before now obviously, but it's definitely one of the biggest kinks I've always wanted to try. Maybe being tied up too, I think I'd like it if I tried but I haven't thought about that as much. But, yeah...spanking, definitely."

"Fuuuuuuuuck."

A lengthened version of Jungkook's earlier under-breath exclamation made you peer up at him. Your thighs already pressed together from the tension of admitting something totally new, you found yourself needing even more friction just from the sight of Jungkook with his head thrown back on the couch, a veiny hand threaded in his hair to pull the long waves back from his forehead. The full reveal of his sharp eyebrows brought a whole new level of intensity to Jungkook's already beautifully carved features. He glanced over at you, then squeezed his eyes shut with a terse exhale. You couldn't place why, but you felt a deep attraction to the way he expertly restrained himself from acting on the lust written over his face—not under your control, but his own.

"Oh, fuck. What the fuck. How the fuck would you fucking know," he swore more in a single burst than he cumulatively had ever in your presence.

"What?" you toyed, heart rate still high but relaxed enough to enjoy agitating him. "Something ring a bell?"

Jungkook shuddered out a long breath, hand ruffling his hair as his other forearm still tried desperately to subdue his boner.

"Everything," he hissed, more willing to elaborate now that you had done the same, and especially now that he could tell you really did enjoy him being more assertive. "Shit. I...I want...I know you said not to just say this but I really do want everything you want. I can't wait to mark you up. I can't wait to hold you down and bruise your neck. I want it all, I want to make you hurt so good. And then—" Breathless. He looked almost embarrassed. "Then you had to go and somehow guess basically my biggest fucking kink, I can't fucking believe you." Both hands had come up to seize his long locks as he held himself back physically, while finally letting his guard down mentally to declare everything he intended to do to you. Letting out a short laugh, he finally met your eyes. "I wanna spank your ass bright red. Fuck. This is crazy. You're perfect."

Your core throbbed at every bold word. Leaning in close to him, you let your lips approach Jungkook's beautifully sculpted jawline as he panted, his chin tossed up to fully expose his neck. You stopped just short of his skin, in awe of how much you'd been able to work him up and still so tempted to take it to the next level. "Fuck," you echoed. "This is so hot," you murmured almost to yourself. Your eyes closing along with his, you dealt the final blow. "I love that we have so much in common. But come on, you promised. One thing that's not on my list."

Jungkook whined. You could tell he needed to touch you so badly, and no one was stopping him but himself. He had no way of knowing that if he cut the whole discussion and just took you, you wouldn't even try to resist at this point. Staring at his trembling mouth from below, you quickly averted your eyes when he opened his, pretending you hadn't been looking. He inhaled a short hiss, and then spoke.

"Okay..." He paused after just the first word, blowing air through the tiny "o" of his mouth as his eyes bugged slightly from nervousness. He couldn't resist a challenge, though, and his urge to please you overwhelmed his reluctance to peel back one more layer. "So, the pain thing. I think we, uh, feel the same about me giving and you receiving. But...I'm really into it for myself too. I don't know if you'd be comfortable with it, I know you maybe want me to be more dominant and I think I like that more too in general, but you can be as rough with me as you want back. I'd love that." Eyes still open but fluttering, Jungkook's tone grew breathier, heady as he confessed. You almost giggled at how bashfully he worded his desire to dominate you, to rough each other up, but the contrast was so hot you couldn't help sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, eager for him to continue. His voice lowered. "I love being scratched, marked, bitten...hit me, push me back, any kind of pain or any way you can hurt me, I want it." He shivered, but his voice firmed up even further. "I want it so bad."

You fought to stay motionless beside him, unable to even process how much more his honesty had turned you on. You felt helpless in your desire for him, your craving to give him everything he wanted and more. He noticed your charged stillness and shifted toward you, removing a hand from his hair to finally reach for your face. Threading his fingers through your hair instinctively like he had with his own, he tilted your head back to access your neck. Jungkook finally felt confident enough to tease you back as he skimmed his lips over your pulse point, tugging your skin between his teeth for a gentle first taste and grinning when you moaned. Seeing someone so satisfied, for reasons better than just his body or their pride, brought the most incredible rush of blood to his head. And his other head.

"And I get why you want it too," he finished with a whisper in your ear. "So trust me when I say I really, really want to give it to you."

In an instant, your hands yanked his hair down to bring his face up to yours, mouths crashing together. Feverish, restless, you kissed him, hastily attempting to straddle his thick thighs before he threw his body over yours and pinned you to the back of the couch. His hands wandered, intrepid, from your waist to a quick squeeze of your breasts before he spiraled you into his strong arms. Pressing your chest flush with his as your mouths meshed, he ground his hips into you shamelessly, enjoying the way you struggled beneath him to align your core with his rock-hard dick.

"Your room?" You rushed out the words.

Jungkook laughed a little, his tone half whine and half dare. "So we're done talking?"

"Come on," you pleaded back. He finally relented, pulling you up with him and dragging you across the living room and through his door, lips not leaving yours for a second. You backed him into the bed with your arms against his strong chest, and once he was sitting perched on the edge, you laid yourself horizontally over his thighs.

"What are you doing?" he murmured, curling a hand over the dip of your waist to hold you gently.

You angled your head back to make unsteady eye contact with him, flipping your shorts down boldly. His free hand automatically reached to slowly conform to the shape of your ass, so eager to touch you but tentative as he grazed your curves.

"Giving you exactly what you want."

"Fuck. Really? You're sure about this?" Jungkook held careful eye contact as you brought your arms back up, crossing your wrists over your head delicately. You nodded slightly and did your best to meet his gaze with confident invitation, convincing him how much you trusted and wanted him.

He smoothed his warm hand over your ass one more time, then brought it up and watched your thighs tighten at the loss of his touch. Breathing in, still a little shakily, he brought his hand down on your right cheek with a loud but mild smack. A grunt of satisfaction involuntarily left him when he saw your face flinch down into the sheets, subduing a small noise of surprise. He returned his hand to caress the light redness he'd left, checking in with you again. "Is this okay? Let me know if I should stop."

You replied with your face still tucked between your arms, muffled by the bed. "More than okay. Please don't stop."

He spanked you again, moving to your left cheek. This time you felt his dick twitch under you and couldn't help grinding down on him a little bit. "Is that as hard as you can go?" you taunted in low tones, brave enough to egg him on but not quite enough to meet his eyes again.

Jungkook's thighs and core tensed under you, and he squeezed his fingertips tighter, digging into the skin of your ass. "Not at all," he said simply.

Deep breath. A few seconds passed, and his hand came down, harshly. You cried out in shock, the timing unexpected and the sting far sharper, and he gave your other cheek a fourth hard smack before you could even process the third one. "Harder?" he tested. "Tell me."

Another spank. "Mmmf."

"You like this, huh?"

"Yes, I told you," you whimpered back, half-teasing even though you were in no position to do so. Immediately, he cut you off with a stinging hit across both cheeks, and you moaned.

"You really do," he breathed lowly. "Fuck yeah. Take it then."

He spanked you again, and again, then paused, tugging down your shorts all the way to your ankles to expose the crease right above your thighs. Rubbing your already sore bottom, Jungkook cupped the underside of its curve in his big, firm hand. Already anticipating your whine, he drew back his touch and hummed in harmony with you. He continued landing satisfyingly hard smacks, alternating to cover your ass evenly. His dick strained through his pants more and more each time you trembled under his touch. Never hitting you hard enough to do serious damage, he still clearly enjoyed his thorough reddening of your ass, and occasionally took a moment just to caress your skin as it warmed from the spanking. The pain lit your senses up from head to toe. Face burning with deep arousal, you mentally thanked yourself for going out of your comfort zone and unprecedentedly admitting your kinks before even venturing into your first time together. Amidst the thrilling sting of his hand meeting your soft curves, Jungkook eventually noticed your thighs clenching together, craving friction but not really wanting relief from the pleasurable burn.

"You're wet," he marveled, sliding two warm fingers up and down your slit.

"Mhm," you mumbled back as you tilted your hips into his hand. He gave you a light slap right on the folds between your legs, eliciting another soft moan.

"So good for me," Jungkook said softly, pulling you up into his lap by your waist. "You look so pretty like this. I wanna see all of you." He tugged your sweatshirt over your head, followed by your sports bra, thankful that it stretched over your head easily. Suddenly grinning, he wound up and shot it across the room like a rubber band, and you smacked his arm, giggling.

"What was that? You cheeseball," you teased, and he blinked, chuckling lightly back. It occurred to him that he'd never laughed, or made someone laugh, during sex before.

"It was so stretchy! Don't make fun of me," he blushed.

"You're so cute," you said, fingers sliding under his t-shirt hem.

"Cute?" His eyebrows rose in mock disbelief, and he reached around to land another hit to your still-red asscheek.

"Hot," you amended. Raising his shirt and finally getting a full glimpse of his enviable abs, you groaned. "You're extremely hot, and also really cute, and it's kind of ridiculous and I don't really know how to handle all of it at once."

His face scrunching up into a smile at the praise, he fell back onto the bed with his arms behind his head. "You are too, you know. Really cute, of course. But really hot too." As you discarded his shirt and moved on to easing his sweatpants down his hips, you held in a gasp as his erection sprung up from the waistband. He was big, thick, and painfully hard, his tip glistening warm with precum and a lone vein running prominently up his smooth shaft. Although you wouldn't be corroborating them, you had to admit to yourself that all the rumors were true. You instinctively curled a hand around it, barely covering half his length, and he winced at your slightest touch. Pulling off with a single slow stroke, you slid his sweatpants and briefs all the way to the floor and then stood, looking up from his legs to his blown-out eyes to take in the glorious sight of his fully naked body.

"You shave," you said, surprised by the clean skin under his arms and between his legs.

"Yeah," he demurred, self-conscious for some reason. He lowered his arms to fold them over his torso, somehow defining his biceps even more. "I'm on the dance team, and it's nice to feel all smooth for practice and stuff. I don't know, I just like it."

"Oh, that's cool! No worries, I like it too. And you don't mind that..." You looked down at yourself, still just standing naked in front of him. "...I don't? Like, down there at least."

"No, you do you!" he said quickly. With a shy smile, he admitted, "I actually kind of like it on you. I do this for me, anyway, not for anyone else," he playfully noted. Slowly, he was sitting up to take hold of your waist and lower you down to the bed with him. Pausing to kiss the sweet spot under your jaw, he continued. "So don't feel like you have to do anything, or not do anything, either."

Jungkook couldn't quite explain the nature of how his attraction to you had developed. Seeing how open and honest you were with him made it easy for him to be honest with you too, and just to feel comfortable being himself. He admired the way he could still tell you sometimes got nervous like him, but it didn’t stop you from getting real or going bolder. Unable to fully express it in words, he just hoped to ensure you felt as comfortable and respected around him as he did around you. He already knew that he wanted this to be more than just a one-time thing, and while he still hesitated to assume that you felt the same, he intended to leave no doubt by the end of the night.

You moaned as he nipped at the skin of your neck. It was so easy to get swept back up in Jungkook. You could barely handle the friction of his dick rutting against your wet folds from below, craving him inside you. "Ughhh. Wait, one more thing. I'm on the pill, are you clean?"

"Yes," he gasped, barely removing his mouth from your jaw. "Are you?"

"Yeah, so we don't need a condom. If that's cool with you!"

"Yeah! But, you're ready?" He seemed surprised.

"Aren't you?" you whined, beyond holding back. He felt so unbearably hard that his coherence and willpower kind of surprised you too. "Please, I want you so bad."

To your surprise, he lowered his head to the crest of your legs, dotting wet kisses down your torso. Keeping his big brown eyes on you, he teased your entrance with a finger and echoed your immediate groan at the welcome stretch.

"You really are ready," he remarked, awed at the ease with which your wetness sucked the digit in. Frankly, you were in awe as well. It had taken your ex-boyfriend months to figure out how to get you this worked up. Jungkook either had even more experience than you'd heard from the grapevine, or he was a natural. Or maybe you were just really, ridiculously, primally attracted to him. He went on to curve his finger in you and lick a messy swipe up your folds, sucking hard once he reached your sensitive clit. You cried out at the delicious burst of stimulation and he rose up to catch your lips with his.

"I had to do that, just once," he grinned breathlessly. "But—"

"Let me suck you off," you interjected, unbelievably fucking turned on and dying to please him.

"No," he gasped with far more fervency than you'd think anyone could refuse a blowjob. "Please, I was about to say—" he choked out a high-pitched moan as you ran a single finger up his shaft in anticipation, sinking the nails of your other hand into his thigh. "—I think I'm gonna explode if I don't get inside you right this second."

So he did have a breaking point. "Fuck," you muttered, bringing your legs around his to tuck your heels under his tight ass as he lined up. He eased his tip in, keeping heavy eyes on you the whole time, and you could feel the hot, thick tension in his thighs as he struggled to hold himself back from just thrusting into your heat. Slowly, he drew closer into you until he bottomed out with a low moan. You whined at the perfect slight pain of the stretch, and Jungkook squeezed his eyes shut, gripping you by your waist. Watching the veins in his forearms stand out as he drove almost all the way out and back into you, you rocked your hips carefully against his with each smooth stroke, getting used to his fullness. When his balls met your ass again, he shuddered a bit and opened his eyes into yours.

You answered his question before he could even ask it. "Jungkook—you feel so good. You can go faster, it's okay."

A smile hit his eyes before his mouth, and he kissed you once, pressing his chest to yours and intertwining your tongues eagerly. You bit his bottom lip as he slowly drew away, tugging it between your teeth to pull a sweet little whimper from his throat. Grinning, he leaned back in to touch his forehead to yours and simultaneously slid a subtle hand under your ass to curve your hips up with his. The slight leftover sensitivity of your skin amplified his light touch, and Jungkook seemed to realize this, curling his fingers to tease you with the tips of his nails. Instinctively, you ducked to bite his neck, not even registering your move to pass the pain back to him until he choked out a beautifully half-restrained moan and snapped his hips into yours. Gasping, you encouraged him to lose himself in you, dragging your lips up to latch around his earlobe. He hissed and thrust into you sharply again, meeting the time of your movements as you swirled your tongue between each of his hoop earrings. Soon he was pounding you rhythmically, finally letting you feel the full force of his strength but keeping remarkable control over both his body and yours. Both of you had gone silent except for your heavy breaths, lost in the moment, but the flexed shivers of his thighs and twitches of his fingers in your hair told you all you needed to know. Suddenly yanking your strands to pull you back from the additional bruise you'd sucked beneath his ear, he earned a new set of scratches on his back as your hands dragged down the muscular expanse in reply. Jungkook switched places with you to draw dark clouds from your skin, a storm brewing under your jaw. Your face fell into pure bliss, eyes shut and immersed in the barrage of sensation from his hands, mouth, and big dick filling you. Already feeling the familiar tension that preceded an orgasm building through your whole body, you chased him closer to his climax too, grinding back roughly into every thrust and raking your hands over every part of his firm body you could reach.

You had really been fooling yourself when you thought you could try something casual for once. You wanted more of Jungkook, all of Jungkook, nothing but Jungkook ever again. Knowing he'd never even gone back to the same hookup twice sank slight anxiety into your stomach, a kind of future nostalgia for this moment you already feared losing. You knew you weren't anything special compared to the catalogue of gorgeous girls he'd had his turn with, but a deviant voice whispered from the back of your mind that you could be, because it was clear none had bothered to learn him like this. You'd still try your desperate best not to want too much from him, but you resolved to do whatever you could to make him crave more.

Rolling your hips in a smooth circle against him, you clenched around his dick and your hands tightened their fierce hold on his tiny waist. You felt his abs tense within your grasp as he tried not to stutter into you.

"Fuck. No." His voice cracked, but held an undertone of ferocity. "You come first." Jungkook rushed a hand to your clit, adding pressure in small, deft motions with a fingertip as he kept fucking you deep. You sank your teeth into his shoulder in response, drawing your hands up his back to clutch him closer to you, and Jungkook cried out. You left your mouth on his golden skin to stifle your moans as he sped up his fingers, and he tried to let you stay there but eventually couldn't help pulling you off him to see your face. Eyes narrowed and eyebrows turning up sharp at the ends, he watched you like a hawk to track the exact moment when he pushed you over the edge. Your face crumpled and you felt your whole body burn under his gaze as you came, squeezing around him in waves of pleasure while he fucked you through your high, unrelenting. Drinking up the bliss obvious on your features, Jungkook's eyes never left yours and his expression grew more and more fucked out. You marveled at how even as you lost control and energy to fuck him back, your body freezing in orgasm seemed to turn him on further. One last pulse of the tension leaving your core made his dick throb inside you, and you impulsively broke your eye contact to lean in and bite down slow but hard on his neck again. He gasped.

"You're amazing." Murmuring into his skin, you kissed the bite marks gently. Jungkook whimpered at the sweet contradiction and lurched into your hips even harder. You recovered to move with him, squeezing him deeper into you every time he bottomed out, and as his breathless moans escalated in pitch, his whole body shivered with each stroke. Pressing wet, heavy kisses all over his neck, you felt his jaw flutter while his lips hung open. His considerable strength spent, Jungkook shuddered one last hard thrust into you and finally let go, coating your walls from within. His hips lightly rocked against yours as he stayed deep inside you, still hard and savoring the euphoric release he'd held back for so long. You felt so incredibly warm and comfortable around his sensitive dick, relaxed but still holding him tight, and he couldn't help holding you up for a languid kiss before pulling out of you smoothly.

He briefly looked into your eyes, and you saw stars. The sun had continued to set outside, and it peeked between the blinds of his window to wrap you both in a warm, slivered glow. Staring down at his hands on your body, Jungkook took a deep breath and collapsed to your side, holding you close. You settled into him, cupping a hand over his head on your chest. With your fingers laced through his sweaty hair, you stroked his temple with your thumb, worrying for a second whether the gesture seemed too intimate but forgetting your fear when he snuggled up into your touch. You felt the need to say something, to figure out what the fuck was next after this, but stayed silent, not wanting to disturb the comforting weight of his frame. Heartbeat still racing, Jungkook stretched out to breathe a long sigh. As he sank back into you, you stretched under him too, letting his solid, warm body drape over you like a blanket. This couldn't be farther from what you'd expected with him, but you weren't about to make it stop. Surely, eventually, he would.

A minute passed. And then five. And then, before either of you could talk yourselves out of it, you were asleep, intertwined.

[calmcilstoybox]

Title: Veraque

Word count: 1998 Rating: SFW  Part 1 of a vampire fic slow burn/ child hood friends to lovers.

There is a dog that gets pets

There was one thing that Perdita wasn’t expecting, and that was a call from Owen Shepard. Yet, there was his number flashing across her phone’s screen with the option to pick up.

Perdita hesitated for a second before mumbling something akin to I’ll be right back to her coworker. Then she accepted the call and walked away from the meeting room.

“Hello?” Perdita asked cautiously not sure of who was on the other end of the line.

“Hey Perri -” Owen replied, it was hard for her to hear him because of noise in the background. It sounded like he was next to a freeway.

“What the fuck Owen where are you? What happened? You’ve been missing for like a week.” Perdita interrupted cutting Owen off. She was vaguely aware of her voice becoming shriller in pitch as she spoke.

“Listen I can explain...Just when do you get off work?” Owen asked over the car horn going off in the background.

“Around five, have you called your Mom yet to let her know you’re not dead in a ditch somewhere yet?” Perdita inquired; though she had a feeling she already knew the answer.

“She didn’t pick up when I called her, I think she’s at work-wait, are you on break?” Owen said, it was easier to hear him over the phone now. But Perdita wasn’t sure if he was lying about trying to call his mom or not.

“Yeah I took a break to take your call. But where are you?” Perdita asked again, checking the time. It was a little after one in the afternoon.

“Right now I’m in a Starbucks waiting on my uber to take me home. Can you come over once you get off work so I can explain everything?” Owen’s voice had a begging tone in it now. Perdita had never heard him like this before and wasn’t comfortable saying no to him.

Not when he was like this.

“Yeah, I’ll be over…See you in a few.” Perdita said, quieting down.

“Thanks see you then.” Owen replied, hanging up before Perdita had a chance to question him further. Of which Perdita did have many questions, and not nearly enough answers.

The rest of her day went by in a blur. Perdita couldn’t even recall what she’d had to eat during her lunch break. The last week had been hard. First, Owen vanished while out walking his dog. The dog; a female golden retriever named Maverick. Had been found dragging her leash behind her by a Good Samaritan. They coaxed the dog close enough to grab the leash with a tennis ball.

That had actually been the first clue something happened to Owen. He never would have abandoned Maverick.

After Perdita clocked out she went straight to her car in the parking lot. She climbed in, locked the doors, and turned it on letting it idle. While her car was warming up, Perdiate decided to check her phone.

Have you picked up Maverick from your Mom’s yet? She took her in after you disappeared. Perdita texted Owen, she stared at the screen after she noticed the triple dot.

I brought her home.

You coming over soon?

Door’s unlocked.

After reading Owen’s texts back Perdita let him know she was on her way. She shifted gears and looked over her shoulder to make sure she didn’t hit anything as she pulled out of the parking lot. The trip to Owen’s house was uneventful. It was a quiet drive through the snow. Since, Perdita took a back road to get there to avoid traffic.

Owen’s home was a pale green two story Queen Anne. At one point it belonged to his paternal grandmother. Perdita remembered going to her funeral with him. It had white lattice trim, and a hunter green roof. To the left of the house was the driveway with a detached garage painted to match. There was a small sidewalk between the porch and the garage that wasn’t covered by the overhanging roof.

There were footprints in the snow leading up to the front porch. Perdita decided to park her car in the driveway and called Owen. She figured she should let him know she was here. Though, after four rings when he didn’t pick up she stopped the call.

The cold evening air made her lungs hurt. Perdita hurriedly went up to the door and tried it once. True to Owen’s word, it was unlocked. Perdita stepped inside and closed the door behind her. She took her shoes off and left them by the door.

It seemed the polite thing to do. Instead of dragging melting snow and whatever else was on her boots on Owen’s hardwood floors.

“Owen?” Perdita asked looking around inside. There wasn’t any sign of him from where she was standing in the foyar. After a quick glance around, Perdita decided to try the kitchen. The room was directly to her left.

Once Perdita was in the kitchen -the floors here were an ornate blue and white tile instead of hardwood. She noticed Owen standing in front of one of the counters. Perdita also noticed that the knife block was close to where she was next to the cutting board by the sink.

This was the first time she’d seen Owen since his disappearance. Something about him made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Perdita knocked on the wall closest to her to get Owen’s attention. She thought that, perhaps he hadn’t heard her before.

When Owen turned around however he had a crooked smirk on his face and his eyes were completely black.

“Perri! So glad you could make it.” Owen's voice had a harshness to it that had not been there earlier during their phone call.

Perdita backed up, she could feel the counter behind her and gripped at it with both hands.

“I-I was worried about you, I wanted to know what happened, why you left Maverick…” Her voice trailed off as Owen took a few powerful strides toward her. Despite being roughly the same height, Perdita felt like she was much smaller than him at that moment.

“I’ll tell you all about it later Perri, right now I’m famished.” Owen stared directly at Perdita as he spoke. One of his hands reached out and tilted her chin up. Perdita released her grip on the counter and one hand reached back pulling a knife from the butcher block.

Then, Perdita heard Maverick barking.

Apparently so did Owen, as he froze up. Perdita watched his eyes change back to his normal shade of hazel. The man had a confused look on his face- then fearful as he noticed the knife in Perdita’s hand.

Maverick continued barking and snarling until Owen took a full step back away from Perdita. He held his hands up almost like he was surrendering.

“Owen..?” Perdita leered at him as she whispered his name. She kept the knife- which Perdita now realized was a bread knife- in her hand. Maverick’s barking quieted down to whimpers.

Owen seemed like he didn’t know what to do with himself. He ended up tugging at his collar showing a bite wound.

“Last thing I remember is taking Maverick for her morning walk. Next thing I know, I wake up with this on me feeling like my throat’s drier than Death Valley. I had this urge to just...bite.” Owen explained letting go of his shirt. He fumbled his hands together in front of him before kneeling down to Marverick’s level. Then Owen held one out to let her sniff.

Maverick continued to whine, but licked Owen’s hand. Perdita watched the dog’s tail wag twice.

“Bite? Do you remember what you said to me when I got here?” Perdita asked, recalling how Owen had said he was famished.

“Not...that I remember no. My throat is so dry again.” Owen replied quietly thinking to himself.

Perdita finally relaxed and put the knife back in the block.

“Have you told anyone else this? Or just me?” Perdita asked, she was trying to piece together what was going on.

“I can’t tell my Mom any of this...how would that even work?” Owen groaned and ran his hands over his face.

“There was so much blood on me when I don’t think it was all mine. ...I have my clothes in the sink in the bathroom soaking to try to get the blood out. If the hydrogen peroxide doesn’t work I’m just tossing it all out.” Owen said standing back up after scratching behind Maverick’s ears. “So I’m the only one that knows..” Perdita mumbled leaning against the counter again.

“It’s stupid, but it’s like when we were kids in Mrs. Shalhoub’s class. I asked you for help all the time with schoolwork there. I thought you could help me now.” Owen looked flustered and kept his eyes on everything else in the kitchen but Perdita.

“Owen..” Perdita stood up and walked over to him putting her hand on his shoulder.

“ I don’t want this, I didn’t ask to be a monster Perri.” Owen still refused to look at her and there was a sad defeated tone to his voice.

“I don’t think you’re a monster.” Perdita gave Owen’s shoulder a squeeze. She recalled that Lucas worked at the hospital and wondered if he’d be able to help if she told him about the situation.

At the very least it was worth a shot.

Perdita let go of Owen’s shoulder and went over to the kitchen table. It was one of the circular ones, with a lace table cloth thrown over it. She noticed that the curtains by it were shut tight. She sat down, and got her phone back out and called Lucas.

“Hello?” Lucas answered on the other end of the line.

“Hey Lucas, what do they do with the blood they don’t use at the hospital?” Perdita asked, glancing at Owen. Who was sitting down across from her at the kitchen table. “It goes in the incinerator with other medical waste, why?” Lucas answered her quickly without too much thought.

“Can you bring some to me please?” Perdita begged, she could feel Owen’s eyes on her and he looked so hopeful.

“Perri…” Lucas sounded skeptical on the phone. “Lucas I will do literally anything you want me to do if you can just do this one favor for me.” Perdita pleaded with him. She couldn’t think of anything else to do.

“Anything?” Lucas inquired, Perdita could hear the smile in his voice.

“Anything.” She repeated back doing her best not to groan as Perdita thought of what Lucas would ask her to do after this.

She held her phone away from her face for a moment and mouthed, “Do you want me to tell him” to Owen. Who, to Perdita’s surprise nodded in agreement.

“It’s not just a favor for me, you’re helping Owen too.” Perdita admitted bracing herself for Lucas’ reaction.

“Owen’s alive?!” The humor was gone from Lucas’ voice. He sounded as startled as Perdita had felt when she first heard Owen’s voice on her phone earlier in the day.

“He...can explain everything. But, bring the blood with you.” Perdita said nervously, she could hear Lucas sigh.

“Give me a minute….Maybe an hour tops. Wait, where am I meeting you?” Lucas asked, Perdita could hear him getting up and she swore she heard the jingle of his keys.

“I’m at Owen’s right now.” She replied back.

“I’ll be over soon as I can.” Lucas said before hanging up. Perdita slipped her phone back into her pocket and reached her hand across the table for one of Owen’s.

“We’ll figure this out, you’re not a monster Owen.” Perdita said smiling encouragingly at him. Owen smiled back slightly and flipped his hand over so he could grasp Perdita’s fingers.

“I know it’s not fourth grade math anymore, but I’m glad you’re still there for me.” Owen confessed, seeming more relaxed now.

[queen-scribbles]

Hundred Year Habit

@haledamage and I challenged each other to write “happy together decades/centuries down the road” fic for our Wayhaven girls, and to my great and lasting shock KASEY was the first of my girls to volunteer. (I actually finished this mid-March and have been sitting on it for Mason’s birthday :P)

----

Kasey kicked the door closed behind her with an ill-tempered grunt, then glared at it when the subsequent rattle knocked a picture off the wall.

Mason turned to look at her from where he sat slouched on the sofa and arched a brow, but that was the extent of his reaction to her mood.

It was, in her current state, all the invitation she needed. “Skelly’s is soddin’ gone,” she growled as she skirted the sofa. It squeaked a mild protest when she plunked down and spun sideways to drop her head in Mason’s lap, legs dangling over the opposite arm of the couch. “The space is turning into a damn tea room.”

He idly settled one arm over her midriff as he shrugged. “So pick a new coffee shop, sweetheart.”

Kasey snorted and lightly bopped her fist against his knee. “Oh, sure. It only took me seventy five goddamn years to find somewhere that serves literally the perfect cup of coffee, a replacement’s probably just around the corner.” His other hand threaded slowly into her hair, and she leaned briefly into the distraction of it before shooting a pointed look at the cigarette between his lips. “What would you do if you couldn’t get those any more?!”

He grinned sardonically and lifted his hand from her stomach to hold the cigarette. “Cope. Might just have to get annoyingly clingy with you.”

“You sayin’ you want me to get annoyingly clingy with you, sunshine?” Kasey snarked, heels kicking lightly against the side of the couch.

“Better than being whiny,” Mason said, both brows raised as he looked down at her. 

She smirked and sat up. “Ah, but whining means--”

He kissed her as he leaned over to drop his cigarette in the ashtray on the coffee table.

“--you doing that to shut me up,” Kasey finished mischievously when he broke the kiss.

“Don’t blame me for your bad habits, sweetheart,” Mason shot back, but he was smirking to match her as he tugged her in for another kiss.

She went with it, scooting to sit across his lap even as the kiss kept going. (It was, she mused, very handy not needing to breathe sometimes.) Her fingers dug into his hair and she smirked at the rough hum of approval it elicited, his  arms tightening around her waist.

They held the kiss for a dizzyingly long time before breaking apart with matching quiet gasps. Mason shifted, turning his head in her loose grasp to press a lingering kiss to the inside of her wrist, right where the scars from Murphy used to be. She had no idea how he still remembered; the faint marks were centuries gone, but he did.

Kasey bit her lip, rested her forehead against his temple at the gesture. “I still need my coffee,” she mumbled into his hair.

“If all you need’s a pick me up, I can help with that,” he murmured back. His fingers edged under her t-shirt, leaving goosebumps in their wake as they trailed up her back.

She smiled and shifted to straddle his hips,” I do love your pick me ups,” she whispered as she kissed him, her hands now resting on his shoulders as she played with the ends of his hair. “Think we have time for one and me getting coffee before we meet the rest of the team?”

Mason’s boots hit the floor with a dull thump and he sent her a positively wolfish grin. “Let’s find out.”

“Mason!” It came out half laugh, half shriek as his hands moved from halfway up her back to the backs of her thighs for support while he pushed to his feet. She instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, burying her face in the side of his neck as he started for the bedroom. (Nate had nearly killed the pair of them the first--and only--time they’d been too impatient to move it off the couch here.)

He growled softly at the brush of her lips over his skin and tightened his grip to shift her slightly higher.

Kasey hummed when he kissed the base of her throat and shoved the bedroom door closed behind them as they passed through. “You better hope I still have time for coffee...”

Mason chuckled at the ultimatum and dropped her on the bed, easily following when she pulled him after her.

--- ---- ---

Despite her only half-joking threat, Kasey was in no hurry to move when they were done. She rolled over to rest her chin on Mason’s shoulder blade, untangling her hand from his in the process so she could trace random patterns between his freckles.

“Happy now?” Mason asked, clearly smug even with his voice muffled by the pillows.

“Mm.” She kissed a couple freckles, whisper soft, and grinned at the shudder that earned. “What was I mad about again?”

He half-rolled over to smirk at her before, reluctantly, “We gotta get moving...”

Kasey groaned and leaned a little into the kiss he offered, then grabbed for him as he slid out of bed. “Now?”

“Hey, you’re the one who wants coffee, sweetheart,” Mason retorted with a chuckle as he gathered their clothes from various corners of the room. “If you’ve changed your mind...”

She sat in the middle of the bed, blanket pooled around her hips, and actually hesitated reaching for her clothes as he tossed them at her. How badly do I really need coffee...?

He paused with his shirt halfway on and cocked a brow at her. “Shit, really?”

Kasey groaned and ran a hand down her face. “No, you’re right, we should go.” She reached for the clothes with a sigh. “’Specially since I need to find a new coffee place.” A small pulse of melancholy twisted in her chest. Sure, it was just a coffee shop, it wasn’t like watching a person age and die, and she only went there when they were in the area, but... “How the hell is anywhere s’pposed to measure up to a hundred year habit?” she muttered as she wrestled on her bra and t-shirt.

“Not like this is the first time you’ve had to do it.” Mason sat on the edge of the bed to pull on his boots.

“Thanks for the reminder,” Kasey retorted, raking hair out of her eyes. “It’s always a pain in the ass.”

She left off the other part; that every time was a glaring reminder of how impermanent everything around them was. She forgot sometimes, dealing with other supernaturals as much as they did. But then she had to find a new favorite coffee place, or one of Nate’s books tripled in value because it went out of print or became a classic, or Felix had trouble finding the jeans he liked because they’d gone out of style, and it was sharp evidence that no matter how long-standing some things were, nothing lasted forever. (Some, truth be told, she’d been glad to see go. Others she still missed.)

Mason must have pieced together her train of thought, or read it in her eyes--he was damn perceptive, and after a few centuries with someone, you got real good at reading them. “Hey.” He leaned back and kissed her, far more gently than they’d been doing a few minutes ago, if no less deeply.

Kasey carded her fingers into his hair, massaging slightly as she leaned into the kiss as well.

You’ll always have me. It was unspoken, but she still heard it loud and clear. And she knew it was true, straight down to her bones, with an intensity that made her chest tight and breath catch sometimes.

Like now. Thank you, was what she felt. I know, was what she meant. But after a shuddering gasp to catch her breath, “We really do need to go,” was what came out. She stole another emphatic kiss. “Unless you want another lecture.”

Mason growled softly and rolled his head to press more firmly against her palm, then straightened. “Rather save that for a special occasion, sweetheart,” he said with a smirk that made his meaning clear.

Kasey chuckled and shimmied into her jeans. “That’s what I figured, sunshine.”  She yanked on shoes and they both grabbed jackets before heading out the door.

Mason’s arm circled behind her as they stepped into the street, his hand sliding into her back pocket. “Which way?”

Kasey grinned as she draped her arm around his shoulders and steered them left. “I think I saw a place down here that looked promising...”

The coffee place was a bust, however, much to her dismay, and they didn’t have time to track down another before meeting the team. “Least I have all the time in the world to keep looking later,” she snarked to cover her disappointment.

Mason tossed her a keen look, then nudged them into an alley to kiss her, pinning her against a wall as her hands dug into his hair. “I’m happy to fill in as pick me up til you find one,” he mumbled against her skin.

Kasey chuckled and kissed the corner of his mouth. “Careful, sunshine, I might take you up on that.”

“That’s the goal, sweetheart.” Mason leaned in for another kiss, and Kasey let herself get lost in it.

Here’s to the one habit I’ll never have to break. She smiled at the thought, warmed by knowing even when she couldn’t find coffee, she’d always have him.

[propsandmayhems]

Can you use the prompt “Can I kiss you?” with your favorite ship?

omg literally thank you sm anon because this was so much fun to write!! i got this ask and immediately started writing!!! i did blackdale which is not my fav ship ever but i just was so inspired so i hope u like 

i also posted on ao3 since it ended up being so long 

“Can I kiss you?”

Lucie Herondale x Jesse Blackthorn 

Lucie Herondale should be happy. 

For the first time in over a year, everything was going well. They had defeated Belial and Tatiana. Her brother and her parabatai were happily married. Matthew had quit drinking and was beginning to heal. She and Grace had successfully returned Jesse back to life and convinced the Clave it was done by Belial, not by their own involvement in black magic. She still had her family, her friends, her Marks, and was learning more about her powers with the help of her Uncle Jem. 

Yet there was still something missing. 

Upon his return to life, the Clave - in an uncharacteristic act of generosity - had given Chiswick House to Jesse. For the past three months, he had holed himself up in the great stone pile, working to attempt to return the grand house to its former glory. 

The first month after she and Grace brought Jesse back, Bridget had begrudgingly driven Lucie out to Chiswick House every day. She would bring all sorts of offerings - new books; freshly baked jam tarts; perfectly sharpened daggers and even a brand new sword, the blade stamped with a ring of thorns that matched the pattern on his locket, which she had ordered in from Idris. Jesse would always meet her at the front door, attempt to refuse the gift, finally accept and then bid her goodbye. That first month, he never once invited her in. 

But Lucie Herondale was nothing if not persistent. 

The second month, he continued his work on Chiswick House. One day, the carriage came to an abrupt stop in front of a newly installed wrought-iron gate. “Well, this is new,” Lucie heard Bridget drawl from the driver’s seat. Hopping down from the carriage, Lucie took in the new gate, black metal soaring up into the gray London sky. On the very top of the gate, curving bars formed the words ‘Blackthorn Hall.’

“I’ll walk up from here, Bridget,” Lucie called over, while quickly scribbling an open rune on the metal. Slipping through the gate, she made her way up the stone drive, her boots lightly crunching the rock under her foot. 

Looking around, Lucie could tell that Jesse had already made wonderful progress with the house. The front lawn was manicured and free of the overgrown weeds that had overtaken the hedges along the drive. Despite it being a dreary day, the white stone facade of the house even seemed to shine brighter. 

Lucie had made it to the door and before she could take the knocker in her hand, it swung open. Jesse stood on the threshold, black hair tumbling in front of his eyes. He was in shirtsleeves, as he nearly always was when Lucie visited. Lucie couldn't bring herself to be scandalized, since she had grown so used to seeing him in shirtsleeves in his ghostly form. He wore no tie and the top two buttons of his shirt were undone, showing the entire curve of his throat and his un-Marked skin. “I was in the study and I saw you walking up the drive…” he began, and then wrinkled his eyebrows in confusion. “Where’s your carriage?”

“At the front gate. Bridget and I stopped to admire the new gate you installed. ‘Blackthorn Hall?’” She asked, to which a blush rose up on his cheeks. It still startled her to see him with colour on his face. 

With a small smile, he nodded, “yes. Do you like it?” 

“I do,” she grinned and then held up the basket she had carried up. “I brought you scones.”

“Oh,” he said, flatly. Lucie’s smile fell, and he hurriedly added, “I don’t think I’ve ever had a scone.” 

“You’ve never had a scone?” She exclaimed. “How can you even consider yourself an Englishman?” 

He laughed - a beautiful, sonorous laugh - and then looked at her for a moment. “Would you like to come in for tea?” He finally asked. 

“I would love that,” she smiled. Jesse stepped aside to let her and the scones into the house, closing the door behind her. 

Jesse led her through the foyer and up the staircase, then down a hall and into a drawing room. Although the wallpaper and decor in the room were dated, the wood of the furniture was polished to a shine, and the dust that had previously coated the walls had been cleaned away. A fire was roaring in the hearth, battling away the dampness of the cool, November day. Above the mantle, the sword she had brought Jesse was balanced on two pegs. 

“Oh,” she breathed when her eyes caught the blade. Noticing what she was looking at, a flush traveled up his exposed neck and settled on his cheeks. “I am so glad that you like it.”

“I-” he began and abruptly stopped, his face morphing into an expression she was unable to identify. “Maybe you should go,” he said suddenly. Lucie’s face scrunched up in confusion as he stepped back from her. “If anyone found out you were here, just the two of us… you would be ruined.”

Lucie huffed. “Not like there are hordes of men knocking down the doors of the Institute asking for my hand in marriage anyways, Jesse.” 

Watching his shoes intently, he took another step backward. “Please, Lucie, just go.” 

“Fine,” she replied sharply, dropping the basket of scones on the conversation table on her way out. 

After that, Lucie did not return to Blackthorn Hall. She hadn’t heard from Jesse in nearly two months. Now, Lucie watched from across the ballroom as her parents greeted the families arriving for the annual Christmas ball. Faces seemed to blur by her - the Wentworths, the Townsends, the Pouncebys. 

Then Jesse Blackthorn walked through the ballroom doors. Lucie was convinced her heart truly stopped beating. He was dressed immaculately; all his clothes were obviously new and flawlessly tailored. His dancing oxfords were unscuffed and the black of his tailcoat was balanced by the crisp white of his waistcoat. He was a perfect picture in black and white, the only color in the entire image being the green of his eyes - which were fixed on Lucie.

When their eyes met, Lucie’s heart restarted at triple-time. All but ignoring her parents’ greetings, he moved across the room to Lucie with purpose. Too fast and not soon enough, he was standing close enough for her to reach out and touch him. But the memory of the way he had told her to leave flickered in the back of her mind. “What are you doing here?” She asked, crossing her arms across the red bodice of her gown. 

“Well, the entire Enclave is invited to the Christmas ball, and I am a member of the Enclave.” He pointed out, to which Lucie rolled her eyes. He took a small step closer to her and continued, “is there a place we can talk, privately?”

Lucie looked around. Many were watching them, as Jesse wasn’t exactly covert in making his way over to her. A small voice in her brain was screaming no, you will be absolutely ruined! You will never be married as is, you are only making it harder for yourself! But her heart was thumping out the sound of Jesse’s name. She nodded, “yes. Follow me.” 

With a relieved smile, Jesse followed her down the same hall that led to the games room and into one of the lesser-used withdrawing rooms. A fire had not yet been started in the room and the air was frigid, causing goosebumps to rise up on Lucie’s arms. After closing the door, Jesse turned to face her. In the witchlight that illuminated the room, the green of his eyes was the same colour as the canopy of trees in Brocelind Forest. “I’m sorry,” he started, moving closer to her. “I am truly sorry for the way I acted these past few months, and especially the last time you came to visit me. May I be frank with you, Miss Herondale?” 

Lucie swallowed and nodded, unable to form words. 

He took another small step closer to her. “You have permeated every inch of my mind. I see the colour of your eyes in the sky and the curl of your hair in the branches of trees. I hear your voice narrating the books I read. When I try a new food, I find myself wondering if you like it. When I manage to sleep, I dream of you. That first month… every day you came to my door and it was all I could do to not gather you in my arms, to feel your warmth. You risked everything for me - you could’ve had your marks stripped! I am not worth what you could’ve lost.” 

She stared up to him, blue eyes wide. “I knew exactly what could’ve happened to me and I chose to take the risk. Because I care about you. I care for you in a way I have never cared for anyone else.” Gathering her red skirts, she moved towards him. “I, of course, would have done the same thing for my family or my parabatai; but I feel for you in a different kind of way. I can’t explain it, but some part of me just longed to have you beside me - to be able to reach out and touch you.” Tentatively, Lucie extended her arm across what little space was left between them. Laying her hand gently over his shirt-clad chest, she felt his newfound warmth for the first time. She remembered how cold he had been when he had been a ghost. But now, the heat from his skin radiated from under his shirt, warming the chill from her skin in the frosty room. “Is this okay?” She asked, and he nodded slowly. 

“Lucie…” He began, searching her blue eyes with his own green pair. “I just fear I will never be what you deserve. I am not a man with any sort of honor. I live in a house tainted by years of demonic activity. I cannot even bear marks like a real Shadowhunter.” 

“It is not up to you to decide what I deserve,” she said. She meant to sound menacing, but her voice came out as barely above a whisper. Unblinking, Jesse reached up and caressed her cheek. 

The heat from his hand on her cheekbone sent sparks of fire all the way down to her toes. Lucie let her eyes flutter close and leaned further into his touch. He was warm, so so warm, almost burning hot. She quickly forgot the lack of fire in the room. “Can I kiss you?” He asked, thumb drifting over her lips.

“Yes,” she breathed, and in an instant, she was gathered up in his arms. The hand that had been resting on her cheek moved to cup her neck, sending jolts of lightning down her spine. Jesse partially bent down and partially pulled her up to him, connecting their lips. Lucie’s mind whirred with the softness of Jesse’s lips on hers, his hand on her neck, his other hand grasping at the silk bodice of her dress. I can finally write the perfect kissing scene! She thought with joy, then realized, wait… am I supposed to be doing something? 

Slowly, she lifted her arms up around Jesse’s neck, coming to rest at the edge of the collar of his tailcoat. Wisps of his black hair brushed against her fingers. She turned her head slightly, allowing herself better access to move her lips gently against Jesse’s without clacking their teeth together. 

Raising herself further on her tip-toes, she brought herself closer to Jesse. His hand at her waist encircled her tighter, bringing her body flush against his. Every one of her nerves was alight with the feeling of him surrounding her. His scent, his warmth, his taste. Lucie had never even considered that you would taste the person you were kissing! She had never liked the flavor of mint tea before, but she loved the way it tasted on Jesse’s lips. 

Unexpectedly, Jesse removed his lips from hers. Dipping his head down, he laid kisses along her exposed collarbone. “You are my shining light,” she felt him murmur against her skin, his breath hot and his body alive. 

She squeezed her eyes shut. She thought if she tried hard enough, maybe she could just melt into his touch and completely lose herself in the warmth of his embrace. 

A quick rap at the door of the withdrawing room caused them to spring apart from each other. “Lulu?” her father’s voice called from the other side of the door. “Are you in here?” 

 She looked to Jesse in panic and then quickly remembered that Jesse was very much visible to everyone now. However, if Will walked in and saw the state they were in, Jesse was very likely to return to his previous ghostly mode of being. “Yes, I’m here! I just came in to… fix my shoe.” 

“Cariad…” He sighed, and she could picture her father pinching the bridge of his nose. “I saw you come back here with Jesse Blackthorn.” 

“Jesse Blackthorn? I led him to the games room, you could see if he is there if you need him.” 

The door handle jiggled. “Open this door or I will.” 

Lucie looked to Jesse with a sheepish smile. He had an unreadable look on his face as he reached out to gently stroke her cheek before turning and moving towards the door. Lucie watched him brace himself as he pulled the door open, expecting to face the pure fury of William Herondale. 

Instead, her father was grinning from ear to ear, with Tessa by his side. “See, Tess, I told you! She was not visiting Chiswick House every day just to ‘lend the support of the London Institute.’”

“Papa!” Lucie threw her hands up. Jesse looked as if he was about to faint. 

Tessa rolled her eyes and waived off her husband. “Yes, yes. I always thought it would be Matthew, but you were right, as always.” 

Lucie gaped at her parents. “Were you two betting on who I would marry?”

  “Yes,” Will shrugged nonchalantly. Tessa nodded in agreement

Taking her husband by the arm, Tessa began to drag Will back towards the main ballroom. “Come along then, dear. I left Gabriel in charge of greeting the guests.” 

Will looked at his wife, completely dismayed, and then the two dashed down the hall and back towards the ballroom. 

Jesse turned to her, still frightfully pale. “Marry?”

Her mouth went dry. “I… I didn’t mean - I don’t expect -” she stammered, fidgeting under his green gaze. 

 Slowly, a smile spread across his face. “It would be my absolute honor.”

[patovpran]

Celebratory night (Ohm x Fong)

Here it is, as promised, an Sarawattine, Earnpear and Ohmfong fic. There's more of the last two but oh well. I also tried mentioning Man and Boss cus i felt bad I was excluding them from this.

The group aka Sarawat, Tine, Pear, Ohm and Fong gathered in front of the architecture building, waiting for Earn to check the grades of her final exams. The boys were sat on the stairs while Pear chose to sit at the end of the concrete fence next to them. The plan was that if everyone passed, they'd go out drinking tonight and now it was only Earn who was left to find out if she passed or failed.

"Pass!" She screamed as soon as she came through the door, other students immediately turning to see who it was while the group cheered. Pear immediately jumped off of the fence and run to hug her meanwhile the rest got up.

"Proud of you!" She gave her a quick kiss on her cheek and Earn's smile got even bigger.

"I knew you'd do great." Sarawat smiled and put an arm around her shoulders before turning to the group. "We can drink!"

Another cheer erupted from them before they laughed. Earn and Sarawat high fived before Sarawat walked down to Tine's side.

"We need to go grocery shopping so we'll meet you later at the usual spot."

"Sounds good." Pear said and took Earn's hand. "Do you have any plans or do you want to go to the new cafe with us? I heard they have amazing coffee and cakes."

The pair she was referring to was Ohm and Fong who stood next to each other, unnecessary close but no one commented and neither seemed to mind. Tine smirked to himself when he had noticed. He wondered how long was it possible for them to stay oblivious of the other's crush. There was also a bet going on between the group that started about three months ago when they all realized the rest also noticed that the two were overly friendly with each other. Even Man picked up on it and he hasn't spent as much time with the two as the rest.

"I could go for it." Fong nodded.

"Sure. Why not?" Ohm shrugged, seemingly nonchalant but they knew he was happy to get a chance to spend more time with Fong.

"Awesome!" Pear jumped once in her spot before waving at Sarawat and Tine. "Bye."

They said quick goodbyes before they went two separate directions. The cafe was only a five minute walk away from the architecture building but with the hot weather outside, they all let out a breath of relief as soon as the cool air from the AC hit them. Even though the cafe was new it was buzzing with people but they managed to find a table to fit them all.

"Oh, look! The strawberry one is on sale today." Pear turned the menu to Earn for a glance before putting it down, her mind quickly made up. She took the rest of the time to watch Ohm and Fong. They had they heads leaned into each other, almost touching while they debated what should they try.

"Triple chocolate one is a classic." Ohm said, pointing at the picture if it.

"Yeah but it's really hot out and you might feel nauseous later. It's hard on the stomach." Fong looked up at him for a moment, slightly moving back as the blush appeared on his face. He probably didn't even realize how close they sat. "There's one with a chocolate pudding if you want chocolate. That shouldn't be too bad."

"That sounds good too." Ohm nodded as he flipped the page. "They have raspberry cheesecake!"

He said with a smile, happy because he knows Fong loves that. Fong hummed in approval and they leaned back in their chairs, turning their attention to Earn and Pear.

"All set?" Ohm asked before calling for the waiter after everyone confirmed they have their order. They chatted about their finals and the results for a while before their cakes and drinks came to the table.

"Want a bite?" Earn asked as she held a piece of her red velvet to Pear.

"Noup, just you eat." She said before taking a bite of her cake. "How are yours?"

"Really good." Fong responded while Ohm finished his bite.

"Fong was right." Ohm nodded to himself before looking up. "This one is not as heavy."

"I'm brilliant." Fong joked.

"You are." Ohm said seriously, focusing on his cake that they weren't even sure he realised he had said it. Fong stared at him for a moment while Earn and Pear exchanged a knowing look, smirking.

"I'll win." Earn leaned in to whisper to Pear who just rolled her eyes.

The four of them sat and talked for about an hour and a half before they decided they should go home and get ready for their night out. Their dorm buildings were in different places so they had to say goodbye when they left the cafe.

"Ohm will confess first." Earn said as soon as they were far enough so that the two couldn't hear them.

"Additional bet?" Pear raised an eyebrow at her girlfriend, stopping and holding a hand out to her.

"Additional bet. Winner gets one wish." She added before they shook their hands. Earn was confident she'd win this one if not the one with the group. It was just a matter of time before Ohm slipped.

Two hours later Earn was getting ready to do her make up when her phone rang. She was sure it was her girlfriend and got surprised when she saw Ohm's name written on the screen. Curious, she was quick to answer.

"Hello?"

"Hey, uhm…do you have time?" Ohm sounded nervous, she noticed. She got up from the floor amd sat on the edge of her bed.

"Is everything ok?"

"No, i mean yeah, everything's fine. I just, uhm, I need an advice." She raised her eyebrow, leaning back on her arm waiting for him to continue. "So I've thought about trying something different…fashion-wise."

"Ohh..I'm listening." Ohm wasn't a much of a fashionista. She only saw him wearing very casual clothes and their university uniform and that's about it.

"Could you maybe come over? It'd be easier and you can go through my closest too and match something I didn't even think of." She smiled at how adorably nervous he sounded.

"Of course. I'll be there in 20 minutes." She had already got up and went to pick up her make up bag. That is getting postponed until she helps Ohm. After getting everything she needed, she texted Pear she'll meet her in the club before walking over to Ohm's dorm building. When she got there, Ohm was leaning against the wall and scrolling on his phone. He immediately turned his attention to her when he noticed she came.

"Hi." He pulled the door open for her and they continued to his room. Earn wasn't sure what to expect but his room wasn't necessarily clean and orderly but it wasn't overall too bad either. Probably the messiest room she ever entered was Boss' but he was quick to somewhat clean it so she and Pear could comfortably walk around if they wanted.

"So what were you thinking?" She dropped her purse on the table before walking over to Ohm who stood by the closet.

"I have some dress shirts that I never wore. I mean, they're not that fancy but still…I'm not sure I'd suit them." He answered truthful, already reaching to take them out.

"Everyone suits a button up." She said as he looked at them. "Let me rummage through your clothes a bit and I'll give you few outfits and you can see if you like any."

"Sure." Ohm what down and watched and Earn picked out clothes, throwing them on the bed and occasionally saying something to herself. "Ohh?! Why did you hide this one from me?"

Ohm looked up as she took out a one side black, other side white button up and hold it up with an amazed face. He shrugged as he touched it gently.

"I honestly forgot I have it." He brought it once when he had sudden urge to try something different but never actually got around to wear it.

"You're wearing it." She said firmly. "Freedom of choice revoked. I'm sorry."

He barely had time to react when she threw the shirt at his face and turned around to find long black jeans plus shoes that match.

"Go dress." She pointed at the bathroom while going to grab her make up bag. When she still saw him in the same place when she turned, she shook her head. "Well?"

"Oh, yeah. Ok." He quickly checked if he was holding everything Earn had thrown at him before leaving and letting Earn to do her make up. Some time later he got out and she turned, mascara in hand, and smiled.

"You look great!" She closed the tube and rushed to him.

"Isn't it a bit too much?" He asked, checking himself out in the mirror. "Maybe I should just change. Yeah, I'll do that."

He tried to escape back into the bathroom but Earn was faster to push him and he fell on the bed. After that she disappeared into the bathroom before waking out with hair gel in her hands.

"Today you're dressing to impress and I can promise you, Fong will be impressed." She sat next to him and turned him to face her. "Besides, I can be seen as overly dressed too but who cares? Sometimes you feel the need to."

"F-Fong? That's not…I'm not.." Ohm shook his head and blinked way too many times for it to be necessary.

"Don't ever try to fool me." She said casually, opening the packaging and scooping a bit of gel. "Now sit properly so I can help you look even hotter."

Ohm done as he was told and they sat quietly as she styled his hair. In the end, his hair was slicked back with just one strand falling over his forehead. She checked him out completely, nodding proudly before moving out of the way so that he could see himself.

"Oh shit…" His eye went once he saw himself. For finishing touches she tucked only one side of his shirt in, rolled up his sleeves and gave him other earrings that better matched the vibe.

"See? You look stunning. Everyone in the club will be drooling over you." She joined him by his side abd they looked together at his reflection in the mirror. "Fong might get a heart attack."

"He doesn't like me like that." She watched as his mood instantly dropped and she wanted to scream that Fong most definitely felt the same as him but she didn't want to overstep.

"You never know." She smiled up at him. "Don't give up just yet."

"Thank you." He gave her a side hug while giving himself one last look in the mirror.

"You're very welcome." She smiled before sitting down on the floor. "Now just let me finish my make up and we're ready to go."

"Sure thing."

~

"Don't be dramatic, you'll be fine." Tine said as he watched Fong panic over a video call.

"You know how I am drunk." Fong pointed out. "The chances of me accidentally confessing or worse, kissing him, while intoxicated are high."

"If it happened, I'm sure the outcome wouldn't turn out to be so bad." Tine said just as Sarawat exited the bathroom.

"What's going on?" He asked, dropping next to Tine on the bed.

"He's worried that he'd drunk confess." Tine filled him in.

"It's not too bad." Sarawat shrugged. "I mean I did it."

"Shut up." Tine laughed before focusing back on Fong. "I mean you can also not drink."

"Yeah right...as if any of you would let me get away with not drinking." Tine rolled his eyes while Sarawat made a face, showing that Fong was not in the wrong.

"Don't stress over it. You'll be fine." Tine reassured. "Now go get dressed and don't forget to meet up with Pear first."

"Mhm, I know." He nodded, muffled shuffling coming from the speakers as he got up from the bed. "By the way, how come Earn and Ohm are coming together?"

"No clue." Tine turned to Sarawat for an answer but he shrugged, also not having a reason.

"She didn't say anything to me besides the message in the group chat."

"Hm...well, anyway, I'll see you guys later. Bye!" They said their goodbyes and both Fong and Tine went to get dressed before leaving to meet up at their usual place before going together to the club. The club was 15 minutes with car and the four agreed to take one taxi and find a table for everyone while Earn and Ohm took another one, notifying them they'll be a bit later than usual.

"Did she tell you anything?" Tine asked Pear as they sat down. Sarawat and Fong disappeared to get the usual starting drinks.

"Nothing much. She just said she had to help him with something." Earn and Ohm didn't usually hang out alone so she was very curious what the thing was but didn't want to pry.

"Appetizers are served." Sarawat and Fong placed them around and sat down. Tine checked the messages and noticed one new in the group chat.

"Just in time. They're here." Tine said and pocketed his phone just as the two walked into their field of vision. It was little to say that everyone was shocked. The two were a sight to see.

Earn's hair was curled and she wore a short red dress along with heels and finished her statement with blood red lipstick. Next to her was Ohm who never looked as styled and the two were quick to catch attention.

"Holy shit." Fong said with his mouth wide open, very obviously checking out Ohm. The latter sat down casually next to him seemingly oblivious of everyone's dazed expressions. Earn joined her girlfriend's side, very proudly smirking as he looked around and, more specifically, at Fong's expressions.

"I feel very underdressed right now." Tine spoke up, staring at him for moment longer before turning to Earn. "Your doing I'm guessing."

"He asked, I delivered." She shrugged, pulling the drink closer to her. "What do you think, Fong?"

Everyone immediately turned to him who still stated at Ohm dazed. They locked eyes and Fong felt as if he could pass out any time soon, his heart was beating fast and he felt a little weak. If he had panicked before, he sure as hell isn't holding up well now. Not knowing what to say, he quickly grabbed the glass of tequila and downed it before giving Ohm a times up.

"...-look great." He swallowed the 'you' but Ohm seemed satisfied with the answer. Earn and Pear, Sarawat and Tine exchanged looks before smiling and following Fong's lead. Soon enough, Ohm being last, everyone's first round was quickly gone.

It was safe to say that that night was a wild night. After few drinks, Fong got very confident and started openly flirting with Ohm, his new look apparently tugging his last string that was holding Fong back from doing so. Ohm wasn't sure how to react at first, thinking Fong was messing with him, but as the night went on, he started flirting back. The group found the whole ordeal very entertaining and most importantly, they were sure that now both knew the other liked him which meant the bet was done.

"And as expected…I'm right." Pear grinned, her pride even bigger drunk. She slammed her hand on the table before gesturing to everyone to pay up while the duo disappeared somewhere, doing who knows what but most likely the very obvious thing. The group groaned but reached for their wallets and threw bills into her hand. "And you…" She pointed at Earn. "...that is yet to be seen."

Pear put the money in her bag just as the two returned to the table. Everyone noticed the messy state they were in but instead of commenting, Sarawat held up his glassed and yelled.

"Celebratory drink!"

"Cheers!" The group added after him and slammed their glasses together. Their group officially had another couple.

[rawiswhore]

Charles Robinson x Fem Reader- "Here's To You, Mr. Robinson"

Yes, this fanfic is about wrestling referee Charles Robinson.

A little something for his birthday today!

_____________________________________________________________

We all know several sports always have cheerleaders, usually and almost always female, cheering for players: football and basketball are both examples.

There's debates over whether or not if professional wrestling is a sport, but you could say wrestling does have their own answers to cheerleaders, and it isn't the Nitro Girls in WCW or women doing wrestling matches dressed as cheerleaders.

No, arguably the wrestling equivalent to cheerleaders are valets: usually beautiful women who will cheer for some wrestler and beat their hands on the ring.

There won't be a bunch of valets all together like cheerleaders, but some wrestler will have a valet escorting him to the ring where she watches the match and sometimes even eggs that wrestler to beat that other wrestler up.

Sometimes, valets even interfere with the match.

Most referees out there aren't very handsome, but one male wrestling referee that is surprisingly quite cute is Charles Robinson.

And no, he isn't some wrestler that will sometimes be a referee like Shawn Michaels, Triple H or Randy Orton, he is an actual referee.

And one that's nice to look at to boot.

In 2003, when you were the valet that helped escort Triple H to the ring, you were standing by the ring on a "Monday Night Raw" episode, cheering Triple H on whilst he beat the crap out of someone.

You had some anxiety while you were cheering Trips on, afraid that he or the other wrestler he's fighting against will step on your fingers while you beat your hands on the ring.

Though, you aren't just there to cheer for Triple H.

Charles Robinson just so happened to be a referee during this match, and he is a cute referee.

Most of women's roles during the "divas era" were for them to be valets and arm candy escorting some wrestler to the ring, and worse, not just that, but be eye candy as well as play the roles of seductive vixens and their relationships with men.

Despite that, you came up with your seductive, sex obsessed nymphomaniac slut character that you'll always be remembered for, though you probably would've been given that character by the WWF/E creative staff because Attitude and Ruthless Aggression era, where women were usually treated as eye candy sex objects.

Sometimes, female valets would interfere with the match by flashing their tits (Debra) or distracting and/or flirting with a wrestler or a referee, or even both, and Charles Robinson is a referee you would gladly flirt with.

You slowly sauntered towards Charles with this little smirk on your face like you were up to no good, and Jerry Lawler and Jim Ross on commentary as well as the audience caught you strolling up to Charles.

This got the audience as well as Jerry Lawler's attention, now focusing more on you instead of the match.

Jerry chirped and shrieked when you walked up Charles, guessing what's probably gonna happen.

The camera was now filming you walking to Charles instead of the actual wrestling match going on, much to the dismay of some people watching this on TV wanting to see the actual wrestling match.

As you walked up to him, some males in the audience were cheering for you and even making a few silly wolf whistles at you.

You were dressed in a tight blouse with a miniskirt and opened toed stiletto heels, perfect sexy outfit that still leaves much to the imagination.

Charles' eyes grew wide as you approached him, worried that you were gonna step up to him.

Oh yeah, you were.

It's obvious you were.

He's getting distracted by you even though he doesn't want to, but he can't help it.

You're a beautiful woman giving him a boner.

Once you stood close enough to Charles, despite that he isn't running away from you, you lifted one of your hands and placed your index finger on his chest, where you made that index finger run vertically up and down his chest.

He was looking down at your index finger doing this to him, your body was pressing onto the front of his body, and you still had that little naughty smirk on your face.

You lifted one of your arms and placed your forearm across the top of his shoulders and behind his neck, where your other hand on that arm played with a few strands of his hair.

Surprisingly, he isn't running away from you, but that's because you're like a succubus and you've got him under your control.

"You're really cute" you purred to him while you stood close to him, still having that naughty grin on your face.

Jerry Lawler's eyes are growing wide at the commentary table and he's shrieking his throat out, leaning over the commentary table, whereas Jim Ross is at a loss for words.

The males in the audience are jealous of Charles, but when are they never jealous of some beautiful woman with some wrestler?

Your finger on his chest eventually evolved to now your hand pressing on his chest, where your hand caressed vertically up and down his chest, basically "wax on/wax off"-ing his chest.

Charles still had his eyes wide, his head was turning left and right and even he was somewhat grinning over you doing this to him.

Your head was slightly tilted and you still had that shiteating grin plastered across your face.

"She's distracting Charles!" Jim Ross exclaimed.

The wrestler that Triple H is against with argued with Trips about this, pointing to you, only for Triple H to throw a punch to that wrestler's face.

Your hand on his chest moved down under his tucked in shirt and slid up to his chest, where your hand began caressing his chest.

Charles was trying to fight you off, his head moving back and forth and his hands pushing you away from him, your body detaching from his torso, but you still were gonna flirt and seduce him.

He can't help it, this may as well be a match where the female seduces the man and she wins when he taps out.

This is basically almost borderline rape culture, since you're trying to seduce him while he's trying to fight you off.

No matter many times he resists you, you're still gonna try to attach to him just to get Triple H to win.

You pressed your body onto Charles' torso, your leg nudged against Charles' leg, where your foot slid out of your stiletto and placed your foot on top of Charles' black leather shoe, drumming your toes across the top of his foot.

The audience must think Charles is a homosexual for not wanting you seducing him, you can just hear some dudes chanting the "f" word that rhymes with "maggot" at Charles.

Charles argued with you he has to be a referee, but no, you're gonna distract him, no matter what it takes.

He won't deny you're a beautiful woman, but damn it, this is wrong.

You could nearly grab onto his shirt and kiss him, giving him a long kiss, but nah.

Y'know, Charles could be distracted by your beauty while you beat the ring and cheer for Triple H (or someone else) and he could stroll up to you and start sweet talking and flirting with you, and that's actually happened before with you.

As you were distracting him from the match, Triple H was beating the mess out of some other wrestler, kicking that other wrestler's ass, throwing punches.

Eventually, Triple H lifted that other wrestler lying on the ring up by the arms, where he placed that wrestler's head in between his thighs while still holding onto this wrestler's arms.

The audience knows what's next...

Then, Triple H dropped this other wrestler onto the ring where Trips landed on his knees and this other wrestler rolled over, still lying on the ring.

"Pedigree!" Jim Ross exclaimed at the commentary table.

As this other wrestler lay in the ring exhausted, Triple H laid down next to him in the ring, wrapping his massive arms around that other wrestler's thigh and held onto it, lifting that leg up in the air until it was standing straight up.

Triple H's other hand moved to the ring to beat 3 times.

"3...2...1!" the audience chanted as Triple H beat the mat with his hand with every count, until the bell rang after counting.

Triple H quickly dropped the other wrestler's leg and held his arms up in victory, the chorus to his entrance theme played while the crowd had a mixture of cheers and boos in the audience.

"That's a disqualification!" Jim Ross exclaimed and argued. "She distracted Charles!"

Indeed, it was.

But...that's one of the points to a valet.

To distract the referee for the other person to win, and that isn't right.

Then again, the WWF's Attitude era was filled with disqualification matches, and 2003 is infamous in being a part of Triple H's Reign of Terror.

Charles Robinson as well as the wrestler that Triple H beat were arguing how it isn't fair, you distracted Charles, but Trips still won the match?

Triple H walked away holding the belt up while Lillian Garcia announced how Trips is the winner, and he walked back with you wrapped on the side of him grinning from ear to ear like you did something naughty, and you did.

Charles and that wrestler that lost to Triple H are mad how you distracted Robinson to win the match, but Triple H isn't mad that you flirted with Charles and basically cheated on him?

Then again, your character is sexually promiscuous and seduces and flirts with other wrestlers...

[justthehiddleswrites]

The Reluctants | Chapter 5 | The Reluctant Step

Pairing: Adam (OLLA) x OFC (Charlie Bock)

Summary:  Charlie can’t believe her luck when she lands an apartment all to herself in Quincy, Massachusetts in a decaying triple decker. But life gets more complicated when someone moves into the basement. Specifically her landlord, Adam, who also happens to be a vampire. As life collapses around Charlie, these two forge an uneasy and unlikely relationship. But is their relationship as doomed as the building they live in?

Chapter:   After much sexual frustration, Adam and Charlie take a big step in their relationship. And Adam can’t let go of his past.

Warnings: Violence, Smut, Frottage, Dry Humping, Teasing, Coming In Pants, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex. Couch Sex. Kidnapping. Stalking. Non-Graphic Violence, Character Death

-

“This should be a deterrent.” Charlie smoothed her hands down the front of her navy blue sweater and onto the long Black Watch plaid skirt that ended mid-shin. She contemplated going down just in her pristine white socks and then remember the state of Adam’s carpets.

“I am wondering if he even owns a vacuum or does he just beat out his carpets like they used to?” She muttered while shoving her feet into a pair of old loafers.

Adam overheard her heavy footsteps on the stairs as Charlie made her way down to the basement door. He swung the door open as she reached up to knock.

“What did I say about knocking?” he grumbled.

“What did I say about manners?”

Adam licked his lips as his eyes raked down Charlie’s body, taking in her outfit. Her attempt at demure and understated, dare Adam even say dowdy, backfired. For one, her navy blue sweater was cut in the same deep vee as all the rest. And those fucking socks with loafers. He could feel himself growing hard already.

“Are we going to a sock hop?”

“What?” Charlie pulled the skirt away from her body, bending down to check out her shoes, unwittingly give Adam an eyeful down her sweater. “I think I look nice.”

Adam grunted as he pulled her into the apartment, slamming the door behind her. He pushed her against the door. Charlie’s breath caught in her throat when Adam nuzzled against her neck, nipping at the skin.

“I bet you are even wearing little white panties underneath. How proper of you.” he taunted, pulling her sweater out of the waistband of the skirt.

Adam threw the sweater unceremoniously over his shoulder. He pawed at the simple black bra, squeezing. Charlie arched her back, which allowed Adam to unhook the bra, slipping his hands against her bare skin.

“Why do you tempt yourself with things you will never know?”

Charlie leaned in, grabbing Adam by the shoulders shoving the faded black silk shirt off, since tops were now optional in this odd relationship. Her tongue explored his mouth. She loved how he tasted like metal and dust, as though his insides continued to decay even as his visage remained youthful. His tongue in turn tasted her mouth. Adam hated he was starting to like Charlie’s cherry lip balm and peach lip gloss. There was a hint of coffee on her tongue, which Adam surmised she drank to stay up late. It was almost touching.

“I wouldn’t bet on that.” he chuckled against her lips. His hands skimmed down Charlie’s sides until it reached the waist of her skirt. Adam inched the heavy plaid fabric up until the fabric gathered around Charlie’s hips.

“That’s against the rules.” she protested but not moving to stop him. Her legs slid further apart.

“I’m not removing anything.” Adam’s voice distance as he moved to position him between Charlie’s legs. “I am rearranging it.”

Adam expected to see a pair of prim white cotton panties but instead found black bikini briefs, matching the bra.

“You are not what I expect.” Adam commented. He nipped at her inner thigh and Charlie hissed.

“You’re welcome?” she muttered. “Don’t you need to feed today?” Charlie hoped to pull him up and back onto less “stimulating” topics.

“You’re right.” Adam gripped her leg holding it open. “Absolutely fucking right.”

Charlie’s knees buckled as Adam’s fangs sunk into her hitting the femoral artery. Adam sucked hard, drinking her in, pushing her against the door for support. Charlie fumbled with her hands before settling them in Adam’s hair.

“Fuck.” Adam pulled off of Charlie, licking her as the blood continued to trickle slowly, not wanting to waste a drop. “You are fucking delicious.”

Adam smirked against her. Once the bleeding stopped, he turned his attention to Charlie’s core. His nose nudging against her clit. Her fingers gripped his hair. Adam slid her panties to the side, careful to not slip underneath the satin fabric.

Charlie glowered at him, tugging at his hair.

“Not breaking the rules.”

She already glistened for him. He licked his lips as the sight made him strain against his pants. Adam hooked Charlie’s leg over his shoulder, licking along her folds.

“Oh…” Charlie gasped. “That’s… that’s…”

“If you say breaking the rules…” Adam continued to lick her, sucking on her clit. Charlie dug her nails into Adam’s scalp and moaned.

“Fuck, that feels good.” She arched her back and pulled Adam into her core.

“Just imagine how my cock would feel.”

Charlie’s mind flashed on Adam naked, thrusting into her with abandon. His fangs glinting in the shitty overhead lighting as he prepared to feed on her just as she came.

Between Adam’s tongue and her overactive imagination, Charlie came, moaning Adam’s name. He continued to eat her out through her orgasm. His cock grew so painfully hard, he fumbled with his fly releasing it from the confines of his pants.

Adam dropped Charlie’s leg and stood, fisting himself while crushing his lips against hers. Charlie tasted herself, both her arousal and her blood on Adam. He moaned into her mouth as his balls tightened.

“Fuck!” Adam stepped back from Charlie, coming on her stomach and chest, staining her bra.

Charlie at the moment, didn’t care much about Adam ruining her most comfortable bra. She finally recovered her senses to speak.

“So… um… that was….”

Adam pressed against her, his cock, pressing between the two of them, making even more of a mess of both of them.

“… Delicious.” Adam huffed, finishing her sentence.

“I think I should…” She gestured at the door. Charlie grabbed for the knob, but Adam got there first, holding it shut.

“Stay.”

“I shouldn’t. I don’t…”

“… fuck musicians. I get that.” Adam rolled his eyes. “If you are going to insist on these absurd rules, then I insist we talk, have a normal fucking conversation. I am more than just a whore here for your pleasure.” His tone sharp.

Charlie blinked. She hadn’t thought like that. That not how she saw Adam at all. But if he was going to attempt to adhere to her rules, despite taking full advantage of loopholes, she could make an effort as well.

“Okay. I need to get cleaned up.” Her eyes darted to her bra and stomach.

“The bathroom is down the hall and it works. I can go upstairs and get you some clean clothes.”

Charlie smiled and nodded. “Thank you. You know where my underwear is.”

Adam chuckled, thinking back to that first meeting, which felt like an eternity but had only been a month or two.

“Sorry about that.”

“You need to get better at lying. A leak in my underwear drawer?” She raised an eyebrow.

“I panicked.”

“Clearly. I am going to…” She ducked under his arm and walked towards the hallway. “… take care of your ‘gift’.”

Once she moved out of sight, Adam took the stairs two at a time. Charlie’s apartment was dark. Darker than usual. Adam spied the newly hung blackout curtains on every window and smiled.

“You are unexpected.” he commented to himself as he dug through Charlie’s dresser to find an oversized t-shirt, some shorts and undergarments.

He glanced around the bedroom. Tidy but not neat as a pin and oddly devoid of photographs. No pictures of friends or family. A banker’s box sat on the floor, filled with papers and some knickknacks. Must be the stuff from her job, Adam pondered. Shit. Charlie is going to have to get a job at some point. He hoped it wasn’t a job that made her work nights.

By the time, Adam returned downstairs Charlie was stepping out the shower. She smelled like him, sandalwood and old men’s cologne. With a towel wrapped around her and curls dripping onto her shoulders, she stepped out into living area.

“There was only one towel.” Charlie shrugged.

“I don’t do laundry much.”

“So is the no underwear a laundry thing or a rock star thing?” The corners of Charlie’s mouth twitched.

“It’s a Adam thing.” he retorted dryly. He shoved the clothes in her direction. “Here.”

“Thanks.” She ducked back into the bathroom to change. Adam lumbered around the living room, his hand running along the side of the instruments on the wall until they settled onto a 1972 Rickenbacker 381 Jetglo and he lifted it off the hook.

“May I see?” Charlie’s voice rang out from behind him.

Adam held out the instrument to Charlie. She skimmed her fingers across the curves of the guitar’s body and the strings along the neck.

“Will you tell me about them?”

Adam smiled. “Yes.”

Charlie hopped over to the couch, tucking her legs underneath as Adam placed the guitar around his neck and strummed the strings, feeling every bit of music every played on that guitar humming through him. Charlie had never seen Adam so at peace.

-

Charlie stayed on that couch for hours listening to Adam ramble on about the different guitars, their names, their history. He even played a bit for her. Charlie’s eyes grew heavy and the nighttime hours waned.

“I should head upstairs to bed. I have interviews after lunch tomorrow.”

“Today.” Adam corrected. His chin dropped. “You could stay here and sleep.”

Charlie stretched and pulled herself to her feet. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Adam placed the Gibson he was noodling on down and walked towards her, encircling her waist with his arms. “When will you realize that none of this is a good idea, but rather the best idea?” He leaned down kissed her lips. He kissed her with passion but not hunger. Charlie sighed and parted, pushing them apart by placing her hands on Adam’s bare chest.

“I… I… “ Charlie chewed on her lip, looking for the right words. Adam stared down at her, waiting for an answer. “… just can’t right now.”

Adam’s face fell and for once the cold disinterested exterior did not replace his expression. He gave a tight smile. “I am a vampire. I have nothing but time.”

“I will get there. This is all new to me.” Not just being with a vampire but being with someone who actually gave damn. About her. About anything.

“I’ve never ‘been with’ a…” He opened his mouth but caught himself. “… a human before. I usually just feed.”

“Oh.” Charlie’s cheeks burn with embarrassment. She assumed this was a normal occurrence for Adam, that she was just another relationship in his long life. “I didn’t know.”

“I didn’t share. I didn’t plan for this.” Adam trailed his thumbs along Charlie’s shoulders. “But you are not what I expected.”

“A trembling flower? Insipid girl?”

“Something like that.”

Charlie cupped his face.

“I’m not that kind of girl.” She kissed his face. “Sleep well, Adam. I’ll see you tonight.”

She took off and Adam didn’t stop her. The ache in his chest painful. His body and mind wanted Charlie but he wasn’t so sure about his heart.

-

Charlie didn’t knock that night. She purposely wore what was essentially pajamas. A loose t-shirt and a pair of shorts, no socks, no shoes. Adam was no where in sight. Charlie wandered to find Adam sprawled out on the enormous four poster bed, the dark gray sheets draped around him in such a way there was no mistake he did not wear pajamas.

“Is naked your default mode?” Charlie chirped as she peeled the pillow away from his face.

“What happened to knocking?” Adam groaned rolling over to his back.

“I got over it. Are you going to wake up or not?” Charlie peeked into the makeshift pillow hat Adam had created for him.

“Not.” Adam continued groaned. “Why are you so fucking cheery? Did you get new stick of that god awful Chapstick?”

“You are not a ‘morning’ person are you?” Charlie used bunny quotes for “morning person”.

Adam grunted and yanked the pillow from Charlie’s grip. “Go away.”

“No.” Charlie smirked. “I’m invoking 3a.”

Adam sat up, staring at Charlie with one eye closed and one eye squinted. Charlie’s thin shirt doing nothing to hide her unfettered breasts. Adam kept it cold in the basement and the nippy New England fall air did no favors to her nipples. “3a?”

Charlie leaned in until her nose pressed against his, staring into his unnatural eyes, and raised an eyebrow. “3a.” she said with gravitas.

Adam opened his eyes as Charlie’s hand slipped underneath the sheets to find his cock. Her fingers tentatively moving across his length. His cock jumped at the touch.

“I’m listening.” Adam’s eyes peeking open. He grabbed at the ample fabric of her t-shirt to yank her towards him. Charlie’s feet lost purchase, and she tumbled on top of Adam and the mattress.

“No bedrooms. Let’s head to the—” Charlie stated pushing up onto her hands. She moved to stand up but Adam pulled her back against his chest.

“No.” Adam growled. He rolled Charlie to the side and propped up on his elbow. “No more rules, no more agreements.”

Charlie’s eyes welled with tears. Flustered, she flailed about, sending a pillow flying to the floor. “I’m sorry. I.. I… I’ll see myself out.” her voice cracked and Adam realized his mistake. Charlie wiped at her cheeks.

“Wait.” he barked out, moving to the foot of the bed to block Charlie’s path.

She stepped to the right and then the left, Adam meeting her toe to toe each time.

“Please let me pass. I’ve taken enough of your time.” Her fists balled at her side. “Now if you will excuse me…” Adam reached up and wiped a tear off her cheek. “It’s the dust. You should really clean mo—”

Adam’s lips crashing against hers stopped Charlie’s blubbering. He reached out to cup her face, thumbs wiping away the tears still falling. Her feet fidgeted in place, not sure whether to run or melt into Adam.

“So that is how I get you shut up. I’ll remember that.” Adam chuckled. Charlie laughed, still fidgeting. “What I meant,” Adam sighed. “was no agreements. No rules. Let this just be what it is.”

“What is this?” Charlie responded, chewing her lip. “Landlord and tenant? Fuck buddies?” Adam rolled my eyes. “I don’t ‘do’ relationships. I don’t ‘do’ boyfriends. And they don’t do me.”

“Why do humans insist on labels?” Adam’s voice raising. “Why does it need to be anything? It’s you and me here in this moment. And in this moment, I want you in every way imaginable.” His hands slid down to her waist, teasing the hem of her shirt.

Charlie continued to chew on your lip, shifting in his grip. Her brows furrowed as she thought.

“It’s not like I am proposing marriage, Charlie.” Adam leaned in to whisper in her ear. “Please. Let me in. If only tonight.”

Charlie nodded. “I can do that.”

Adam’s lips curled into a smile. “Excellent. Because cold showers don’t work on vampires.”

Charlie’s hand snaked between them, her nail running on the underside of his cock. “I can help with that.”

“Please no more dry humping like fucking hormone crazed teenagers in their mother’s basement.” Adam rolled his eyes.

“I was thinking some a little more…” her fingers gripping the shaft. “… hands on.”

Adam’s head fell back to his shoulders and Charlie lowered herself to the floor. She flattened her palms against Adam’s thighs. She kissed along Adam’s cock, licking along the length. Charlie gazed up at Adam through her eyelashes. Adam caressed her hair, tangling his fingers into her curls. Charlie took the tip into her mouth and sucked.

“Fuck, your mouth.”

Charlie chuckled sending vibrations through Adam’s body. His hands gripped tight to her hair, tugging her mouth further onto him. Charlie gagged. Adam let go and pulled her to stand.

“Sorry. I am out of practice too.” He sat on the edge of the bed, pulled Charlie to stand between his legs, his thighs caging her in. “Now let’s see…” He pulled her shirt off and dropped it to the floor. “… no bra.” Adam lifted an eyebrow.

“You’re not the only one taking cold showers.” She pressed against him.

“Darling.” He nipped at her lower lip. “We shall take care of that.”

Adam spun them in place, allowing Charlie to fall onto the bed. She let loose a yelp as she bounced. His long fingers slipped into the waist of her shorts and he pulled them down Charlie’s leg, taking her underwear with it. For the first time, Charlie lay bare before him. He noticed her eyes darting about and her fingers twitching.

“You are magnificent.” Adam reassured her. He pushed her legs open with his hips. Charlie opened her mouth. Adam leaned down and pulled her torso to meet his. His tongue slipped into her mouth. “Take the compliment, Charlie. You are magnificent.”

Charlie didn’t respond but instead threw her arms around his neck and returned the kiss, hungry for him. Adam moved his lips along her neck, sucking hard on her pulse point.

“Adam…” Charlie moaned. “Please.”

His fangs grew more prominent as his cock hardened at Charlie’s moans. They scraped along her skin as he nipped at her collarbone. Charlie tugged at his hair, guiding his hand to her breasts. Adam’s tongue swirled around her nipple. Her legs fell open while Adam snaked a hand down to her folds and he turned his attention to her other breast.

“Already wet.” Adam murmured. He swiped along Charlie’s slit before pressing his thumb against her clit.

Charlie gasped into the crook of his neck before biting down. She was already so close. Her back arched into Adam. He slipped his finger into Charlie. She moaned and bit down harder.

“Yes!” she breathed, bucking her hips against his hands.

Adam released her nipple and crushed against her lips. He pumped his finger in and out of Charlie, making a delicious squelching noise.

“I can’t wait to bury my cock inside you.” Adam grunted, curling inside her. Charlie fisted the sheets on either side as she came, clenching around Adam’s finger.

He pulled out of her and teasing the head of his cock. Adam hissed air in through his teeth as he pushed into her inch by inch. Charlie lifted herself to meet him and Adam stilled once he was fully seated within her.

“Fuck, I have wanted you. I am afraid I won’t last long this time.” The glint in his eye indicated he had plans for the evening.

He rolled his hips, snapping them at the end. Charlie’s eyes fluttered close as electricity ran through her body. She regretted the ridiculous rules. She regretted the past several weeks and her stupid insecurity and baggage. Adam didn’t fuck her. He worshipped her. Made love to her. He lifted one of Charlie’s leg to his shoulder and continued to thrust into her, chasing his release and hers as well.

“Come on me, Charlie.” Adam said as her walls fluttered around him. “Let go.” His thumb swiped along her sensitive and swollen clit. As Charlie came, she screamed and cried, tears falling from her eyes. As she gripped against him, Adam grunted as he also orgasmed, pleasure washing across him.

“Fuck yes, darling!” He collapsed against her before rolling to one side. The two of them scooted against each other, Adam molded to the curve of Charlie. Her hair tickled his mouth. She smelled of the same bay rum and flowers she always did. It mixed with the smell of sex in the air.

Charlie shifted against him. “Adam?” her voice soft and questioning.

“Hmm?” He nudge his nose against her.

“Will you tell more about the instruments and music?”

“It doesn’t bore you?”

“Not the what you tell it. Please?”

“Yes.” He sat up and then stood. “Let’s get dressed. And what ever happened to not fucking musicians?”

Charlie smirked as she rose as well. “It turns out I do fuck vampires.”

Adam smiled.

-

Charlie settled onto the sofa wearing Adam’s spare dressing gown. She liked it smelled of his cologne and sandalwood, she kept sniffing the collar. Adam plucked a 1939 Super 400 Cutaway from the wall and held it out for Charlie to touch. Her finger ran along the cutaways in the body.

“This one is special.” Charlie whispered.

“Good girl. This is the one of the first guitars to have cutaways.”

“What do they do?”

Adam strummed along the strings, taking the guitar through its paces. “It allows the player to reach the higher registers more easily. It was popular with jazz musicians.”

“Do you play jazz?”

“At one point. I played all of it at one point.” He plucked the strings one last time before replacing it.

“Would I know anything?” Charlie perked up.

“Ever heard Schubert?”

Charlie’s eyes grew as large as doll’s eyes. “Yes…”

“Then yes.” He offered no additional information but grabbed another instrument.

“That’s not a guitar.”

“No, it’s not.” He twisted the pegs as he tuned the instrument. “It is a bouzouki. It’s Greek.”

“Is that where you lived before Boston?” Charlie propped her head onto her hand, smiling at Adam. His expression darkened.

“No.” He knew what was coming next. He turned away from Charlie.

“Then where?”

“Tangier.” He hit a sharp note. “Enough talking.” He put the bouzouki onto the piano bench and prowled towards Charlie. He caged her against the couch. “I intend to fuck you on this couch wearing my dressing gown.”

Charlie palmed him through the silk pajama bottoms. “I can live with that.”

Adam grunted and rucked up the gown. She already glistened. He lowered his head to her sex. He licked along her.

“Fuck Adam!” She jumped. He ignored her pleas to take it easy. He needed to fuck her now. Anything to stop the feelings threatening to bubble up. “Slow!”

“No.” he growled against her. He grabbed her knees and pulled her legs wide and pushed into her. Adam rutted into her, lifting her hips. Where he had been tender before, he was brutal. He reached up to squeeze Charlie’s tits, pinching the nipples.

“Ahhh!” Charlie held onto Adam’s shoulders for dear life. “I’m cumming.”

Adam pressed her leg towards her chest and ground his pelvis against. “Squeeze me, darling.” Charlie screamed Adam’s name along with a string of profanities as she clenched Adam’s cock.

“Fuck.” Adam grunted as three thrusts later, spilling into Charlie.

Charlie drifted off to sleep under Adam, who held her close. Once he was certain Charlie wouldn’t wake, He stood and retrieved a blanket from the bedroom to cover her. He slinked down the hallway and unlocked the door to the spare bedroom. He picked an antique lute, turning it over to examine the bowl, the pieces of dalbergia retusa inlaid with a lighter wood.

“Baby, I miss you.” He commented to the air,, the instrument laying in his lap, unplayed.

[alois-the-real-boy]

JULY THIRTIETH

Colony 22 AU Bingo: crime/mafia

January Twenty-fifth.

“And you found him, where?”

“Skulkin’ around inside the garden wall.”

Alois looked down his nose at the man held kneeling in front of him, hands loosely pocketed in impeccably tailored slacks and line of his body awfully relaxed, for someone who was being presented with a man contracted to kill him.

Just another Sunday.

Crouching, he tried to get a look at finely carved features past dusty blond hair matted with blood, inclining his head with an expression that held little apprehension; only curiosity. “Who sent you?” He paused but, predictably, received no response. Alois reached out with his right hand -- the other was clad in a fine, soft leather he wasn’t about to get dirty -- and touched the pad of his thumb to the corner of a split lip. “I asked you a question.”

The man jerked his head away and promptly spat blood across the neat polish on Alois’s shoes. Muscle in his jaw working for a moment as he tried to maintain his patience, Alois eventually grabbed the man’s bruised chin with an equally bruising grip of thumb and forefinger. “I’m going to be lenient with you, because quite frankly, I’m impressed you got as far as you did. But let me be clear: you’re only living because I’m letting you, and you’d be wise never to cross my line of sight again.”

Contrary to that statement, the hitman fixed him with a cold, determined look that coiled uneasily in the pit of Alois’s stomach. “You’re not the one I’m taking orders from right now. And I don’t go back on a contract.”

“Don’t you?” Alois tilted his head, eyes flickering between icy blue to match his own before pushing the man’s chin to the side derisively. He held up a hand, one of the brutes materializing from the dim corner of the room to place a handkerchief in it, which Alois used to wipe the blood from his hand and then from his shoe before straightening. “I think we’ll be seeing about that.”

January Twenty-ninth.

“Modius?”

“Mm. New to the area but already, supposedly, one of the best in the game. Possibly the best. Contracts solo. He’s not tied to any family or organization save by business. Very lucrative, very violent business.”

“Clove Modius.” Alois repeated the name as he peered out the window and over the moonlit lawn with a faraway gaze.

Lise pulled her hair over one shoulder, affixing a sparkling string of diamonds around her delicate neck as she watched her brother in the vanity mirror. “I know that look. I never like what’s coming, after that look.”

Alois broke from his thoughts to meet Lise’s gaze, then half-smiled as he crossed to stand behind her, one gloved hand and one bare coming to rest on her shoulders. Lise immediately covered his right hand with hers, even as she fixed him with a dubious look via the glass. He shrugged. “I want one. That’s all.”

“Alois.”

He snickered at her admonishing tone, a quiet but clear sound between them, and squeezed her shoulders. “Trust me.”

“Til the ends of the earth. But I prefer you alive.”

The look she gave him was mixed, and Alois tried to smooth it away by leaning down to press a kiss to the crown of her hair. “If all goes according to plan, he’s going to be the one to keep me that way.”

February Eighteenth.

Alois woke to the heavy weight of a body pinning his waist to the bed and the cold press of a blade at his throat, pulling a breath through his nose before he slowly opened his eyes. Clove’s icy stare fixed unerringly on him from the shadows, and against all better sense of self-preservation, Alois caught himself fighting a smile.

They stayed frozen there for a moment, and then two. Finally, when Alois found his throat as of yet intact, he murmured, “Did you kill all my guards?”

Even in the dim light, Alois caught the unimpressed curl of Clove’s lip. “They didn’t even see me this time.”

“Mm.” Muted disappointment, with a mixture of newfound respect. “I’m going to fire all of them, and I’m going to hire you.”

Clove fixed him with an inscrutable look. “My contract isn’t currently on offer.”

“I’ll triple what Dervilia is paying you, because whatever it is, I can already tell that it’s less than you’re worth.” There was a half-second of hesitation before Alois felt the blade press more firmly into his skin. He ignored the stinging edge of it, eyes steady on Clove’s. “Don’t give me any of this ‘honor amongst thieves’ bullshit. My money’s as good as his, and I’d argue the company is far better.”

Emboldened by the simple fact that he was still alive, Alois tried to prove that point by easing a feather-light touch of fingertips past Clove’s knee, starting to wander up his thigh. Clove might’ve stopped him if he hadn’t been using his free hand to capture Alois’s other wrist, preventing him from sneaking his hand beneath the pillow for the revolver hidden there.

Alois actually did smile then, letting his fingertips dig suggestively into the muscle of Clove’s leg when there wasn't much else to prevent him from doing so. He could practically hear the gears turning in the silence that hung between them, and only with a wary look did Clove finally withdraw both blade and hands. Alois slid his own hand back into view, palm open and empty, gun unretrieved in a show of good faith.

“Think we can come to an agreement?”

Clove swatted the hand from his thigh. “I’m listening.”

February Twenty-first.

It was three A.M., but Alois hadn’t been sleeping. He strode down the hall with a frown of grave purpose, his father’s right-hand man flanking him with matched solemnity.

Clove was being held in the front hall, elbows tightly grasped by two of Alois’s more imposing hired muscle. There was no fight or defiance in the hitman’s eyes when they met Alois’s, hands draped in front of him with a loose acquiescence for the handcuffs encircling them.

“Get those off.” The command in Alois’s voice left zero room for argument as he approached and gestured to the bonds. They disappeared immediately before Alois’s goons took reluctant steps back, still clearly prepared for a fight.

Clove rubbed his wrists and glanced between each face in the room before settling on Alois, expression reticent. A bruise bloomed at his cheek that Alois knew his guards hadn’t put there. “I’ve terminated my contract.” There was a weighty pause, in which Alois said nothing. “He’ll come after me.”

“He can try.” Alois shook his head and stepped in, settling his hands on Clove’s shoulders to meet his gaze with an even reassurance. “You’re under my contract and my protection now.”

Clove’s shoulders relaxed fractionally under his hands. Alois took it as a good sign, even as the man nodded. “And you’re under mine.”

May Fifth.

Alois had been too embroiled in his own affairs to notice when the season had turned to spring. Now the days were encroaching on summer, and he stared at the sunrise bleeding up from the horizon in an inescapable tangle of thoughts, enough to distract him from the sound of Clove’s movement.

A lithe, finely-muscled arm secured Alois’s waist from behind, pulling a low, contented hum from the back of his throat. Deft fingers smoothed to flatten over the plot of skin with Alois’s heart thrumming underneath, exhibiting a tenderness that made it difficult to fathom how many lives that hand had personally ended.

It was still a good distraction from his thoughts.

Clove inclined his head to press a kiss where the scars of Alois’s shoulder blended into the smooth column of his neck, his free hand running carefully down the burn-scar mottled length of Alois’s left arm. “Why do you always keep this covered?”

“I like to be mysterious.” Clove obviously didn’t buy it, nipping his teeth at the same spot he'd kissed in a way that teased a soft laugh from Alois’s lips. He then hesitated, considered, and ultimately elaborated. “I feel like if I don’t, then it’s putting that weakness on display. I can’t afford that. The scar tissue, the nerve damage, it’s… extensive."

"Can you feel this?" Clove cradled Alois's hand in his, pulling it close to press a lingering kiss to damage that was decades old.

Alois's brow furrowed. "That's not quite how it works, I--"

"What about this?" Ignoring and interrupting with a brief, pointed glance and a muted smile, Clove pressed another kiss to the marred curve of Alois's shoulder.

He started to catch on. "Hm… I don't know." Alois inclined his head to expose more of his throat, memories of any knife pressed there long forgiven or forgotten. "Should keep trying."

Clove smiled against Alois's skin before grazing the edges of his teeth along the side of his neck, the hand previously settled so protectively over Alois’s heart drifting a path down to splay more suggestively between his hip bones. Alois let his eyes slide shut with a quiet sigh, leaning back into the reassuring solidity of Clove’s body until he couldn’t manage to keep his hands to himself anymore.

Twisting in Clove’s arms to pull him in for a kiss, Alois found him meeting the gesture halfway with a possessive certainty that pooled warmth and reassurance in Alois’s chest. Taking Clove’s hips in a grip that offered no hesitation whatsoever, Alois guided him back towards the disheveled bed with a clear purpose and without breaking the kiss between them.

June First.

“If something happens to me--”

“Alois--”

“Clove. If something happens to me, your contract is transferred to Lise. Do you understand me?” Alois swallowed hard against the pain as Clove put pressure against the wound thickly spilling blood, soaking his shirt with a bloom of red just below his ribs. “If something happens to me, protecting my sister is your primary fucking concern. Tell me you understand me.”

Alois could practically hear the grind of Clove’s teeth in the weight of the pause, and was certain that it was only by some miracle that the man managed to bite back further argument. “Fine.”

“Good.” The word was more a breath of relief than anything else, and Alois let his eyes slowly ease shut. Less than half a second later, Clove was digging the heel of his hand that much further into Alois’s side, and his eyes snapped open again with a sharp gasp. “Jesus fuck.”

“Don’t fall asleep.”

Alois grit his teeth and glared, petulant, fumbling to grasp at Clove’s wrist when his own hands were slippery with blood. “Like I should be taking advice on how to stay alive from a hitman.”

Clove fixed him with a bland, unimpressed look that seemed entirely too calm and out of place for the gunshots in constant exchange overhead. “It’s not that hard. I run through all the ways I could easily kill you right now, and then I do the opposite.”

“Not reassuring.”

The hardness in Clove’s expression smoothed, and Alois wasn’t sure if he could find that particularly reassuring, either. “Relax. My employer wouldn’t exactly be thrilled if I let you die, and this job comes with pretty good benefits. I’d rather not get fired.”

Alois bit out a laugh, even if it faded into a bloody-toothed grimace. “Seeing as I’m your employer, then yeah: I’d be pretty fucking upset if you let me die.”

June Second.

“You were supposed to protect him.” Lise’s voice tightened to fever pitch, stalking down the hall with a fire and intensity in her eyes that only served to remind Clove of her brother. “That is your job. He trusted you. I trusted you!”

Clove slowed his steps as he came to meet her, the tightness in the line of his body contrasting sharply with the weariness hanging on his shoulders. He didn’t reply. There wasn’t anything worth saying in the face of her anger.

Lise took an abrupt swing at him, fast; but not fast enough. Clove caught her wrist in one deft, practiced hand, and only at this proximity did Lise manage to notice that his stony stoicism was starting to crack and crumble around the edges. His fingers trembled where they circled her wrist, and she could see the edges of his eyes were tinged with a sleepless red.

“You were the only thing he was worried about.” Lise blinked, then frowned. She relaxed her wrist in Clove’s hold, and he gently uncurled his fingers as he continued. “He said that if anything happened to him, my contract belonged to you. That protecting you should be my primary concern. I know that he’s not--”

Lise interrupted him with a mirthless bark of a laugh as she took a step back. “I don’t want your contract. It didn’t do him any good, what’ll it do for me?”

Again, he didn’t reply. All he could do was nod a careful agreement, but instead of turning heel to walk away, Clove stepped in closer. Lise faltered in confusion but didn’t retreat, watching him with sharp, tear-pricked eyes. Wordlessly he reached for her, and with only a moment’s hesitation did she let him, collapsing into Clove’s arms and burying her face in his chest with a dry, heaving sob.

Clove enveloped Lise with an indomitable protectiveness previously reserved only for her brother, tucking her head under his chin.

July Thirtieth.

The man sat alone in a pool of yellow light, tied securely to a rickety chair with thick, rough rope that bit into his wrists and trickled rivulets of blood down defiantly clenched fists.

“It’s been some time since your boss tried to send anyone after me. I thought he’d actually learned his lesson.” Alois straightened up from his lean at the door, ignoring the way fresh scar tissue pulled at his side with the movement. A couple of steps brought him to the edge of the circle, arms crossing over his chest with an understated assuredness. “If he thinks my father’s death has left me somehow unprotected, he is… woefully, woefully mistaken.”

“And you think just because dear ol’ dad is dead, you own this part of the city now?” He spat contemptuously at the floor between them. Alois arched an eyebrow, unperturbed. “You wouldn’t start this war. You can’t. You can’t even touch me, you spoiled fucking brat.”

“Oh, no. You’re right; I most certainly can’t.” Alois took a half-step back to the edge of light pooling on the floor, raising his left hand with a subtle twitch of gloved fingers. “But he can.”

Materializing from the darkness, Clove held nothing but cold, sterile, murderous intent in his gaze, and Alois had the good sense to appreciate his fortune in no longer being on the receiving end of that all-too-familiar expression. The impeccably bad timing wasn’t entirely this man’s fault; there was no way for him to know or comprehend the sheer exponential skyrocket in Clove’s protective and possessive streaks in the span of Alois’s recovery.

Clove casually cracked a knuckle. Their captive paled.

"If you survive this, you'll have to tell your boss he should've paid more to keep this one." Alois smiled and took a lazy step back until he could reach out and give Clove’s shoulder a firm squeeze.

“Because together, we’re going to run this entire goddamn city.”

[sinkingwmyships]

Started watching JJBA ~a week ago, and man oh MAN did I fall hard for CaeJose (；▽；)

Prompt list | Wattpad | AO3

This contains JJBA season 2 anime spoilers!

           * * *

Prompt: “Stop being difficult.”

Character(s): Joseph Joestar/JoJo; Caesar Anthonio Zeppeli; Lisa Lisa/Elizabeth Joestar (mentioned); Suzie Q (mentioned); Robert E. O. Speedwagon (mentioned)

Pairing(s): CaeJose

Word count: 1,865

Warning: I've only seen seasons 1 & 2 of the anime, and all the knowledge I used to write this oneshot is from there. Please don’t come at me if you're a manga reader and see something in here that's "incorrect."

This is set in Joseph and Caesar's trip to Venice, some time during their training with Lisa Lisa (but don't think about it too hard, or you'll realize the timing actually doesn't make sense at all :'D ).

Contains (kinda) heated kissing, but not NSFW.

          * * *

Caesar sucked in a deep breath, forcing himself to relax as he glanced at the clock. Ten minutes until they left for the party. He had no idea why he was so nervous — they had triple-checked for threats, the suit Sensei loaned him looked great, and he has no problem handling a party's worth of social interactions. So why did the inside of his stomach still feel like dozens of bubbles popping and forming simultaneously? He didn't eat anything weird today, did he? Caesar had yet to come up with a valid answer, when the door to his room suddenly sprang open.

"Woah, Caesar, are you seriously gonna wear your bandanna with that 'fit?" Joseph — the other person going to the party — sauntered in, surprising the blond with how comfortable he looked in a suit. Caesar had not pegged him as the type to fare well in formal attire — but here he was, in a playful pinstripe suit with a bowtie that matched his sea-green eyes perfectly. The blond could even detect a pleasant hint of cologne when Joseph came up behind him in the mirror. It actually annoyed him a little bit, how good the brunet looked. Great, now that weird feeling in my stomach is getting even worse. Averting his gaze back to himself, Caesar grumbled:

"What's wrong with my bandanna?"

They both looked him up and down. His outfit currently consisted of a pretty orthodox blue-and-white suit, dress shoes, a pink bowtie to jazz it up, and of course, his signature pink-and-yellow bandanna. The thought of taking it off did cross his mind, but this headpiece was Caesar's trademark, and he just wouldn't feel the same without it.

"Nothing's wrong. It just doesn't really fit." Joseph shrugged, before suddenly perking up. "You know...."

Caesar felt a light tug, before his bandanna came loose. He let out a yelp of surprise and tried to grab it, but Joseph had yanked it away and was now holding it way out of reach. Curse him and his nine additional centimeters. "Hey!"

"Relax. I just have an idea." The brunet cracked a mischievous smile, then reached for Caesar's bowtie and pulled that apart as well. Swatting his hand away, the blond grumbled:

"And when have those ever been good? I don't wanna see your idea. Just give me back my stuff!"

"Stop being difficult, Caesar-chan." Joseph chuckled, seemingly not the least bit threatened. He reached out again, propping the blond's shirt collar up before looping the colorful bandanna around his neck. "Speedwagon-jisan does this all the time. I think it'll look nice on you too."

Before Caesar could protest, the brunet got to work. His hands moved with surprising dexterity, transforming the bandanna into a beautiful string tie. Unable to really see what was happening, Caesar's eyes came to a stop on Joseph's face instead, which was stilled by concentration. Can't believe he would still wear his hair like that... but for some damnable reason, it really doesn't look bad on him. Suddenly, Joseph's eyes flicked up, meeting the blond's own and nearly giving him a heart attack:

"I would ask if you're nervous, but I know you'd just say no, so let me go ahead and skip to: why?"

"I'm—" All the possible explanations (excuses?) Caesar had in mind disappeared, so he could only sigh. "I don't know. I've been like this ever since Sensei invited us to the party, and I have no idea why."

"Hmm." The brunet mused, and even though his hands were still hard at work, Caesar could feel those sea-green eyes studying him closely. "It must be because you're going with Sensei to a party, and you don't wanna embarrass her."

"Maybe." The blond nodded, genuinely hoping that the feeling in his stomach would subside. Yet the bubbles only fizzed more intensely. Joseph didn't seem to notice, though — he adjusted the tie one last time, before stepping back to admire his handiwork:

"It looks great. And Caesar, you have nothing to worry about. You have too much respect for Sensei to even consider doing anything embarrassing... pfft, that is, if "anything embarrassing" doesn't include the way you hit on girls."

"You...!" And to think I was about to thank him. Caesar scowled, before an idea suddenly popped into his head. "At least I'm not all talk, Mr. Sexy Lips."

"Wha—" Now it was Joseph's turn to falter. "Hey, how did you know that?!"

"Guess."

"Was it Suzie Q?"

"Oh, so it was Suzie Q." Caesar hummed teasingly, trying to suppress his laughter as Joseph's face reddened. He couldn't remember when or where he'd heard Joseph say this, but that reaction just confirmed his suspicions. "But you know, if you're gonna fail that bad at getting a girl whose options are already so limited, you should really consider changing your strategy."

"I can flirt however I want, okay?" The brunet frowned, jabbing a finger at Caesar. "Besides, who just straight up goes and kisses people like you? That's terrible!"

"You can't criticize my method if yours doesn't work." The blond cocked an eyebrow, before breaking into a grin. "Has it ever worked?"

"It has! Of course it has!" Joseph hissed, getting more and more emotional by the second. If Caesar didn't know any better, he would've said the brunet was flustered. Still, he pressed on:

"Sure, on schoolgirls probably. Who was the last real woman you kissed? By the way, your grandma doesn't count."

"Hey, you would be lucky to have my grandma! And I have kissed people before."

"But they all managed to resist the power of your "sexy lips"? Mmm, I bet you haven't."

"I have."

"You haven't."

"I have!"

"You haven't!"

"I have!" Joseph yelled; then, entirely out of both's predictions, he seized Caesar's lapels and pulled the blond into a full-mouth kiss. There was no time to think, or even to call out in surprise — all Caesar could feel was the brunet's lips on his, hot and angry and frustrated and actually, really pretty damned sexy. Then Joseph pulled away with a smack, hand flying up to cover his mouth:

"Oh my God! Caesar! I'm so sorry! I wasn't thinking straight, and I totally got carried away, and you were just right there, and I... and I just grabbed you, and... and.... Aghh, you're bleeding!"

"N-no, I...?" Caesar tried to speak, but an acute sting from his lower lip cut him off. Did that idiot smash our heads together too quickly...? Still dazed, the blond reflexively stuck his tongue out to lick off the blood — only to realize a split-second later how Joseph's eyes were still stuck on his lips, and how red both of them were suddenly becoming.

"A-ah... well, let me go get the first-aid kit! It would be bothersome if Sensei thought we had a fight or something, wouldn't it...." The brunet blurted out, tearing his gaze away and turning to head for the door. Caesar knew he should have let him leave, but for some reason unbeknownst to even himself, he called out:

"JoJo, wait!"

Joseph's head whipped around just a little too quickly. "Yeah?"

"U-uh...." Caesar's eyes met that sea-green gaze, and once again he felt like he was about to get a heart attack. "Your method, it's... it's... not bad."

"Oh?" Joseph's mouth fell open; he stopped walking and turned all the way around to face the blond. The bubbles in his stomach were churning like crazy, and Caesar suddenly had an urge to bite his lip, but he resisted it with the hyper-awareness of all the reactions it could give rise to. Feeling the silence getting heavier by the second, he stammered:

"W-well, what I mean is you can get girls... wait that's not it, I mean... uh, you probably have kissed before... wait, no, let me... you have sexy lips— wait! Wait! Mamma mia, JoJo, I—"

"Caesar." The gravity in Joseph's voice made him freeze. Caesar swallowed as he watched the brunet approach, each stride ruthlessly cutting down the distance between them. His breathing was even thanks to all the training they endured, but the blond feared that his heart might jump out of his chest at any moment. He had never seen Joseph look this serious, not even during their first encounter with the Pillar Men — but here they were, Caesar about to be backed into the wall because Joseph wouldn't stop advancing with a look on his face that somehow reminded him of Sensei's expression whenever she was about to lose her temper. Is he angry? But why? Wasn't he the one who grabbed me? Did—

"If you wanted to compliment me that badly, you didn't have to wait until after I kissed you to do it~" Joseph broke into a toothy grin, all the seriousness gone from his face. Caesar was more than ready to hit him with a blast of Hamon, when the brunet suddenly continued:

"So? Think you'll be able to resist the power of my sexy lips?"

That's. It. Raising both hands to cup Joseph's smug face, Caesar pulled him down into a kiss. There was a soft grunt of surprise, but Joseph wasted no time in wrapping his arms around the blond, closing the distance between them. His fingers curled around Caesar's hair, tugging as if he wanted him to lean back — but a warning bite on his lip was all it took for the brunet to back off. Not so fast. Caesar liked to take his time with just about any romantic gesture, and kissing Joseph was no different. He kept a gentle but firm grasp on Joseph's head, holding him just there as he took in the sweet scent of his cologne, his growing frustration with each quickening breath, and those lips, soft and wet and absolutely burning as they pressed against his. Feeling the brunet's grip on his back tighten, Caesar sighed with mock exasperation before finally giving Joseph what he wanted. He let his head fall back, and promptly the brunet's tongue slid into his mouth, deepening the kiss until Caesar was practically falling over backwards. Yet Joseph stubbornly clung onto him, his arms glued stuck around Caesar's waist until the blond had to push him away, gasping into what little space there was between them:

"Can't... breathe... idiot."

He heard Joseph chuckle, but it sounded just as breathless. Caesar looked up, and blinked when he saw a smudge of red:

"Did... did I bite you too hard?"

"I'm fine." Joseph grinned, before raising a hand and swiping his thumb across the blond's lower lip. A dull sting jogged Caesar's memory. "It's yours. Should I go get the first-aid kit after all?"

"No, it's fine." Glancing at the clock, Caesar shook his head. "We should go. Sensei's probably waiting for us."

"What if she asks?"

"I'll tell her..." Caesar paused, cracking a small smile as he straightened his jacket. For some reason, all the bubbles in his stomach have disappeared. "... what I'll tell her when she does. Let's go."

He grabbed Joseph's hand and pulled him along to the docks. Little did he know, behind him, a certain pair of sexy lips had curved into a knowing smile....

[pixieungerstories]

Housemates - 21

You can read all the public chapters on AO3 or read all the chapters and vote on match ups on Patreon for the low, low price of $1 a month.

Vinny almost danced out of her lab that night.   She saw Kogan and beamed at him, “Guess who got top mark on her exam!”

“Really?”

She flung herself at him.  Kogan held her tight and twirled her in a circle.  “That’s my girl!”

She laughed.

Kogan realized what he had said and stiffened.  Vinny noticed.  She let go of him and wobbled a bit.  Kogan made sure she had her feet under her.

She spent the walk home gushing about the problem she had solved and why that was so awesome while Kogan was lost in thought.

The house was actually in sight when she stopped and looked at him, “Something’s wrong.”

Kogan froze and searched the surrounding trees for signs of a threat.

Vinny rolled her eyes.  “Something is wrong with you.  You were all happy that I did well, then suddenly you got all weird.  You haven’t said a single word since we left the Chemistry building.  So… what’s wrong?”

“Well, you’re not really my girl, Vinny.” Kogan explained.

She just looked at him.  “But… wasn’t that … I mean… the whole thing at the bar, with the credit card.  I thought I was part of your family.”

“I... It’s different,” he protested.

“How?”

“It just is,”  he started walking toward the house again.  Vinny didn’t move.  Eventually he came back for her.

She didn’t say anything, she just looked at him.

“Fuck.  Ok.”  He took a deep breath and blew it out.  “When you first turned up, cute and young and so enthusiastic.  I thought it would be like adopting a daughter.”

“And?”

“And… that isn’t exactly how I feel about you now.” Kogan growled and rubbed his face.

Vinny looked puzzled.  Then understanding dawned.  “And that bothers you?”

“Yeah.  I’m too old for you.”

“Derick is older than you and you never seemed bothered by that,” she argued.

“That’s different.  You two go out and no one thinks he’s your grampa.”

Vinny just snorted.  “Kogan, first of all, no one thinks you’re my grampa.  And second, my nonno was not that sexy. You are just being ridiculous.” With that she started walking back towards the house.

Kogan was dumbfounded for a moment.  Then he called after her, “You think I’m sexy?”

She turned and smiled and blew him a kiss before waiting to cross the street.  When he caught up she elbowed him,  “You know what they are thinking, right?”

“What?” he asked, still a little shocked.

“They look at you and think, damn!  He’s got pull.”  Then she laughed all they way to the front door where she stopped with her hand on the door knob.  “And they would be right.”

Kogan caught her hand as she unlocked the door.  He looked at her.  She looked at him.  “I want to kiss you now.”

Vinny smiled at him, “That could be nice.”

Kogan leaned forward and, to be fair, quite a bit down.  He looked at her face and kissed head first.  Then he tipped up her face and slowly kissed her lips.  When he stopped Vinny staggered towards him.

He watched her thoughtfully for a moment.  “Does this mean I get to tuck you in?”

Vinny looked up at him, “Yeah I think it does.”

Kogan moved her hands to his shoulders, then he put his hands on her ass.  It was a simple thing to lift her up,  she wrapped her legs around him and he held her with one big hand as he opened the door with the other.  He toed off his shoes and walked her up the stairs while kissing her neck.   He brought her into his room and tossed her on the bed like she weighed nothing.  

He stalked toward her, “Tell me what you want, little girl.”

Vinny gasped.

Kogan pulled off her shoes and rubbed her foot.  Then her calf.  Then he walked his fingers up her thigh.  “How much pull do I have exactly?”  Kogan chuckled then he turned away to pull off his shirt.  

Vinny crawled to the edge of the bed to run her hands over his back.  “Very sexy.”

He turned to face her, “I’m scared, my chest hair is going grey and -” he stopped as she caught him by the shoulders and kissed him.  It was sloppy and needy.  Kogan was surprised at how desperate it felt.

“Are you sure I’m the one you want tonight?”

“Yes!” Vinny gasped, “Please tell me you have condoms and that we’re are going to need them.”

“What?”

“Crap.”  Vinny sighed and pulled away from him.  “For all of the big talk about friends with benefits-”

“You need someone to take care of you?”

“Kogan, tell me how sexy smart girls are and ride me into the sunset.”

He blinked, “I can do that, but I wasn’t expecting to.  I don’t have any condoms Vinny.”

“I do!  Back in a flash!” she climbed off the bed, dropped her coat on his threshold, her sweater three steps further along.  She stepped out of her pants halfway up the steps, nearly giving Kogan a heart attack as she balanced on one leg to do so. He hurried after her then in case she fell.  Her bra was tossed off into a corner where he couldn’t see and she was out of her panties when he followed her into her room carrying most of her clothes.  She grabbed a box out of her bedside table without even turning on the lights then turned to leave and crashed into him.

Kogan dropped the clothes and caught her as she wobbled, slamming his lips down on hers as he held her steady.  He was still holding her shoulders as she went for his belt.  He pulled away with a chuckle.

Vinny made a little frustrated noise but stopped trying to get into his pants.

“Haven’t the boys been taking care of you?”

“Kogan, neither of them will actually fuck me.  I can’t complain because they are very good at what they do, but I don’t always want to be on top.”

He groaned, whatever concerns he had about this, she was finding all the right things to say.  It has been weeks of thinking about her in the shower and feeling guilty afterwards.  And now she was here practically begging for his cock.

“Lay down, I’m not going to rush this.”  She scrambled away from him and wiggled under the covers.  Kogan sighed.  He didn’t really want to turn on the overhead lights.  When he was young he had washboard abs.  These days he had softer edges.  He had managed to avoid the beer gut so many of his squad now sported, but he wasn’t that sculpted ‘carved from marble shape’ that orcs were so famous for.

No.  He needed some mood lighting.  He looked over at the fireplace and perked up.  If he was going to looking at her body, he would need to keep her warm.  It was easy enough to adjust the gas to give both heat and enough light for him to see her reactions.

He caught her face between his hands and spend some time making love to her mouth with his tongue.  He was patient enough to wait until she was squirming with need from that alone before he cupped her breast and drew his thumb over her nipple making her nearly arch off the bed.  He smiled at that.   The one thing he could offer her was experience.

He was still supporting the back of her neck with one hand and he stroked down her body with the other.   All the way from her cheek, down her neck, between her breasts, over her navel, pausing for a moment to run his hand over her piercing a couple of times before he dipped between her legs, which she obediently opened for him.  He cupped her mound for a moment, then stroked down her thigh to her knee which he grabbed firmly to pull her leg up.

“Fuck, you are small enough that I could take you just like this.  One hand on your knee the other on your throat.”

Vinny moaned.  Kogan grinned and rubbed her thigh a couple of times, carefully avoiding getting too close to her clit.  “Time to own up, Vinny.  Can you even cum from just a dick or do you still need someone pressing your buttons?”  Now he rubbed her clit hard enough to make her jump.  Of course, once she did, he stopped.

“Kogan!”

“Answer the question Vinny.” Then he remembered what she had said earlier.  That sounded suspiciously like a praise kink, which made sense given how hard she worked.  “Be a good girl and tell me what you need, darling.”

“I want you inside of me!”

“Really?”  He opened her lips and slid in his pinky, giving it a little wiggle.  She made a noise of frustration.  “Be more specific.  You’re smart, dazzle me with some big girl words.”  As he slid his finger out, he ran it up and over he clit, making her twitch. “I’m not some young bull who has unlimited do overs until you get what you want Vinny.  You need to be specific.”

Vinny went limp against the hand supporting her neck, she took a couple of deep breaths, “No.  I haven’t ever cum without having my clit rubbed.”

“Good girl!  See?  That wasn’t so hard, and this goes so much better when everyone says what they need.”  Now that the fireplace had warmed the room up abit he took off his belt.  “How much topped do you want to be?” he asked looking at it thoughtfully.  When he looked back,her eyes were wide and he grinned.  She shook her head, no, so he dropped it on the floor.  “Nah.  Only bad girls  need to be spanked.  The one who got the top mark on her exam needs to be spoiled.  Come on princess, show me.”

She had the most wide eyed, innocent look on her face. Slightly ashamed but full of lust.

“I want to see what it takes to make you cum,” he rumbled softly.  “I want you to show me how hard I can play.”

Blushing so hard, Vinny opened her legs and rubbed a finger over her nub. “Like this,” she whispered.

“Nah. I know you can do better.  Show me how good it can be.  Do your toes curl?  Does your pussy clench?  Show me what it looks like when you cum.”

Vinny whispered, “Kogan, you don’t even have your pants off yet.  Are you just messing with me here?”

So he took off his pants revealing a very full looking pair of boxer briefs. He sat in the edge of the bed, “Vinny my sweet, I am almost two feet taller than you and nearly triple your weight. In the interests of us both enjoying this, there are a few things I need to know first.  You gotta just trust me baby girl. I know what I’m doing.”

Vinny took a deep breath and tried to relax.  “I’ve never done this with someone watching.”

Kogan leaned forward and kissed her some more. While his lips were on hers, he guided her fingers between her legs.  Her kisses got a bit breathy as her fingers started to move. Kogan stroked her breast and just kept kissing her until she couldn’t focus on that anymore.  

Then he just watched. When her breathing got erratic and her toes started to clench he reached down an snatched her fingers away.

Vinny’s eyes snapped open and she stared at him in a mix of confusion and betrayal. Kogan was already in the process of flipping her over onto her belly.

“There’s a good girl. Now hands and knees, then lean forward and show me that ass.”

Vinny heard the sound of a condom wrapper opening as she got her knees under her. Kogan was back a moment later pulling her hips back towards him. He started rubbing her clit as the tip of his cock bobbed against her slit.

Then Kogan finally slid in, slowly.  Vinny could feel herself trying to open and stretch around him.  He didn’t just slam in but rather rocked into her without actually bottoming out.

Vinny got impatient and rocked back towards him.  She immediately regretted  it as he went in deeper than she liked and she had to pull away with a gasp.

“You still OK?” He asked softly.

“Yeah.  Not quite that much, ok?”

Kogan just snorted.  “Trust me.  I know what I’m doing.”

With his hand on her pubic mound to hold her in place while also fingering her clit.  He pulled back, then slammed in somehow managing to stop at the right point to make Vinny moan.  “Christ, Vinny! You are tight! You will  feel this in the morning!”  He dimly thought so would his knees but he was more focused on how her tight little body felt as she came and clenched hard enough to force him to slow his pace a little.    He took the opportunity to give her ass a swat.  “We aren’t done yet,” he growled.

Vinny was panting; her arms were shaking, it was easy enough to push her hips forward so she unbalanced and fell to her elbows.  “Fuck!  Sometime, I going to take you out to the middle of nowhere and fuck you over my bike, just like this.  Pull your skirt up, push those panties aside and wreck that tight little pussy.” Kogan was snapping his hips with every word, rubbing her clit and watching her stuff her fingers into her mouth to stay quiet. “Some place where you can scream loud enough to scare the birds.”

That did it, her whole body jerked and her thighs started shaking.  Kogan pulled out, flipped her onto her back like it was nothing, then pushed her legs toward her chest.  From this angle he could bottom out against her thighs.  He fucked her hard and fast.  He came as she was writhing, eyes squeezed shut, both hands clamped over her mouth as her back arched.  He stayed as deep in her as he could until she put her feet on his chest and pushed him away.

He rolled  her onto her side and covered her with a blanket.  Then he kissed her cheek and went to dispose of the condom.

“You’re coming back, right?” she murmured.

“Do you want me to?”

“Yeah.”

It was a tight squeeze to get them both into her bed, but Kogan made it work.

----

Thea had been waiting in the spider’s nest in the very peek of the roof since before Vinny was late getting home from her lab. He  was watching wide eyed.  He had one hand over his mouth so he didn’t make any noise.  The other was gently stroking himself.  Fuck, he thought, this is bad.

[hayjeon]

Snow and Ice 01 [m] (ft. Jungkook)

→ friendswithbenefits!au with Snowboarder!JK and figure skater!reader during the Olympicssss!

→ 11.1k | part 2 (coming soon!)  

A/n: I know that winter olympics is exclusive to winter sports and vice versa with summer, but let’s ignore that for the sake of the fic ;) (ie. mentions of gymnasts) 

also this was meant to be a oneshot, but after getting somewhere around 18k...i decided to split into 2 parts! sorry, but hope you guys enjoy what I already have! :D not heavily edited sry but enjoyoyyyyoyyoy

“How fucking hard is it for the boys to seriously not sound like a bunch of monkeys at 3am in the damn morning?!” You grouch, stomping out of the restroom to Irene. 

She’s already dressed in her gym outfit, and tying her shoes. “God, I know,” she rolls her eyes. “I think they’ve made a bet or something to see who can make it the longest after bottomless drinking.” Stretching, she groans, “They were up even up til 5am I think, after you fell asleep.” 

You roll your eyes, slipping off your robe and pulling on a tight spandex pair of leggings and sports bra. You grab your water bottle and join your teammate as you walk down the hall of the rooming area and into the gym. “It would be nice for once to try and get a normal week of life before the games start. By the way, are we doing cardio today?” 

Irene nods, tying her hair up high. “Start off with 60 minutes running and then help me stretch? We’ll go practice on the rink later after lunch.” 

You nod and throw the towel on the handle as you step up onto a machine. It’s 6am, but already, dozens of other athletes are busy at work, pressing the weight machines and cardio machines to life. You can see that the gymnastics girls are taking up most of the easy weights, and the hockey players fiddling with the heavier weights. Seokjin, one of the guys from your university’s snowboarding team, walks up to you with a smile, starting up the running machine next to yours, and matching your brisk walk. 

“Good morning,” he grins, “How are you feeling?” 

You roll your eyes, cracking your neck. “God, Jin, I wanted to kill the guys on the fourth floor. Literally, they’re the loudest herd of chimpanzees when they’re drunk.” 

Seokjin laughs, upping his speed. “They made a bet to see who could drink the longest from the keg. It was interesting to watch but my coach would’ve killed me if she were here and saw me sleeping anytime past 1am. And even though our coaches can’t be here in the lodgings,” he shudders, taking a swig from his bottle, “I’d rather not find out what she’ll do to me if she ever knew the truth.” 

You laugh, increasing your speed and matching his long strides with quick ones of your own. “Good thinking, you’re smart.” 

He grins at you and the both of you ease into your daily routines. 

Everyday is like this, even when you’re not in the Olympic village. This is your second Olympics, and your second time representing your country for women’s figure skating. Being said, getting here meant that every day was a routine, just like today’s, monkey boys living a floor above you or not. 

Wake up at 5am, and cardio for an hour, stretch for 30, practice jumps on mats for 30, and then actually skating for another 2 hours, before returning to stretch out the sore muscles, and then finally getting to eat your first meal, which was probably a salad, chicken breast, and maybe a fruit smoothie if your morning cardio was more productive than usual. Then it was a bit of rest and loosening the muscles with a warm bath, and then back with weight training and more skating until it was night, and the lactic acid buildup was making your muscles all shaky and unsteady. Rinse, repeat. 

It’s easy to throw popcorn at your tv screen and sneer, “Idiots,” when a representative of the country makes a mistake during the games. Somehow, everyone sitting at home in front of their televisions, munching on their bottomless fried chicken and coke became masters at whatever sport they were watching this time of year. But becoming an olympian meant that this was your life: training, practicing, and winning. 

You amp up the speed on the machine into a full sprint as you think of the way you only got a silver medal the last time you competed. The bratty Jennie Kim had won the gold, and managed to shove it in your face every single time you two saw each other. She was here too, you could practically smell the hatred and the evil emanating off her skin whenever you were in a 50 mile radius of her. 

You sigh as your music lets you drift off into a place, a place where you don’t have to think about how sweaty and tired you are already. The music that you chose this year for your routine was classy, and so was the show that you prepared. 

It took months of training, and was also the reason you had to go so hard on cardio this year: there were four triple-axels, triple toe-loops you had to master during the routine, and that didn’t even include the two triple salchows towards the end of the routine. None other than Kim Yuna had attempted and succeeded at doing a routine like that completely without failing. 

All while looking like a complete goddess. 

Beethoven’s 9th symphony was a fairy-like, dainty work of art, with swells of the orchestra booming in the background to create an ominous feeling to it. To master this routine, you’d had to also go through hours of acting classes, to get “in touch with your deepest emotions,” like your coach Minho had convinced you. 

Your mother had gotten her hands on the most gorgeous outfit, a turquoise, shimmering deep blue-green that make your skin glitter and shine and complimented your eyes and matched incredibly well with the silver accents and accessories embroidered onto the dress. 

You don’t really remember how you got here. It just started as an innocent day at the rink, where you’d convinced your mother to let you do something more interesting than learning the piano or the violin, and she’d let you choose between gymnastics and figure skating. You were mesmerized by the pretty outfits as a little girl, so she’d taken you for lessons. 

And then the lessons slowly became rehearsals for the junior figure skating team, and then your coach labeled you as team captain, and then you were being sent off to do shows all around the country. You were then competing and winning gold medals as fast as ever, and at the ripe young age of 17, you were crowned as the next Female Figure Skating Olympian to join your country’s team, to train and compete in the next winter olympics. 

That was how you were thrust into this world of competing and working yourself to the bone at age 18. It just...sort of happened, and at one point in your little 18 year old life you did have a moment to turn around and survey how the hell you got here in the first place. But, it was too late, and you were way too invested, switching out hours of studying or playing video games or with dolls for training on the ice in your childhood to back out now. 

Your workout comes to an end and you’re already sweating bullets and chugging down buckets of water by the end. Irene finishes a couple of seconds before you do and waits for you as you cool down and step off. You both take a couple more minutes to towel off and cool before you step into the mirror room, and begin to stretch. You place your ankle on top of the poles for steadiness and begin stretching your upper body, cooling down in the air conditioned room. 

“Well if it isn’t y/n?” A voice sounds in the entrance of the stretching room and all the heads in the room turn to see who it is. 

You don’t even have to look to know who it is. 

He cockily wipes his face with a towel and throws it over his shoulder, spraying a steady stream of water from his bottle into his mouth as he saunters over to where you’re stretching. You roll your eyes and ignore him, switching sides and propping your other leg up 90 degrees as you curve your torso towards it with your hand stretched towards your toes. 

He walks up to you and in the mirror, you can see the other girls in the room whispering and giggling at the presence of the handsome Olympian. 

Jeon Jungkook. Age 22. Also his second time competing in the Olympics. Gold medalist if we’re talking about olympics, but all time World Champion in the Men’s Snowboarding medium and Guiness World Record holder for highest score last year, beating out previous record holders and his own best scores with the recent win. Endorses like a thousand snowboarding and athletic brands like Northface and Tim Burton. Also the owner of his own resort on the side. He was a celebrity within the Olympians, and also voted one of the hottest Olympians ever. 

“Looking good,” he rakes his eyes up and down your body, grinning sleazily. “How long has it been, 3 years? 4 years?” 

You huff as you take down your leg from the pole. “If you could ever for once figure out how to do math, you’d know that it’s been 4 years since the last olympics, Jeon Jungkook.” 

He smirks when you finally respond to him, walking over to lean against the pole as you sit down and begin stretching your hamstrings. “Congrats on your win during the World Championships, I watched and cheered for you during it.” 

You roll your eyes. “Are you here to make fun of my silver medal too? I have enough knowing grins from Jennie Kim to last me a lifetime.” You switch legs, leaning forward and pressing your knees against your chest. 

He laughs, “Hell no, I would never dare to make fun of the ice queen.” 

Straightening up, you narrow your eyes at him. He’s been calling you that since you can remember. “Get lost, Jungkook. Go do your weights or whatever.” You resume stretching, extending one leg far behind you as you sit comfortable in a split. 

He stands, watching you from above. “Suit yourself. Know I’ll be back though.” 

He walks cockily back, lifting the edge of his shirt to wipe at the sweat on his brow, which is completely stupid because he has a towel. It’s so obvious he does it to get a ruse out of the other gymnasts and skaters stretching in the room, which it does. 

Irene inches up to you and joins you in your stretches. 

“Don’t ask,” you groan and switch sides. 

She shrugs, laughing at you in the mirror. “Wasn’t gonna. That exchange spoke for itself. He definitely has the hots for you.” 

You roll your eyes and groan as you get up, and Irene joins you to help you stand and lift your leg up as high as she can reach, way up over your head. “Uh,” you cringe at the stiffness of your thigh muscles, “He does that to everyone. Seriously. I’ve seen him even give some of the referees sleazy looks. It’s just in his blood.” 

She whistles as you switch legs. “Well whatever his blood’s doing, I bet it’s working real hard.” 

“Ew!” You exclaim and laugh, letting her switch sides with you as you help her with her standing splits. “Never!” 

She laughs, finishing her other side. “Alright grumpy, let’s go get you some breakfast before you rip my head off and get even more hangry.” 

_____________________________________________________________________

You both get washed up and changed before heading over to the Dining Hall. It’s basically another stadium, with the lower levels transformed into a buffet style area and tables and chairs all looped together like high school all over again. 

Hoseok, one of the male figure skaters, joins your table and Seokjin appears a couple minutes after, his plate piled high with all the food he could find at the buffet. 

Hoseok cringes at the sight, “Jeez, dude, how many calories even is that thing?” 

You and Irene peer over to see a buttload of eggs, rice, noodles, meats, and salad piled onto his tray. The both of you sigh at the sight, watching dreamily as Seokjin shoves the food endlessly into his mouth. It was your own personal mukbang broadcast. 

“Uhhh two-touszhndf-mpmph” Seokjin mutters, and Hoseok glares again, cringing at the food that flies out of Seokjin’s mouth. 

“Two thousand?” You balk, resting your chin in your hand as you push a cherry tomato around on your plate with your fork. “Did you increase it since last time?” 

Seokjin nods, washing his huge mouthful down with a swig of orange juice. “I don’t know what it is about this weather, but I’m starving.” 

Irene sighs, setting down her cup. “God, I just wanna eat a big heaping bowl of french fries and a oozy, greasy cheeseburger right about now.” Hoseok nods in forlorn agreement and you nod too, pouting at the sad dressing-less salad in front of you. 

Seokjin talks again, food flying, “They have some! Over there! Can’t you sneak one? Our coaches aren’t even here.” 

Irene doesn’t even bother looking. She shakes her head. “No, it’ll affect our jumps. Really. Even the slightest bit of change in our weight will throw our center of gravity off. Plus, have you seen our outfits? They’re tight as fuck.” 

You nod, sighing as you swallow the last piece of cabbage. “Mine’s so tight I have to wear a stick-on bra instead of having it padded, like normal.” 

Hoseok cringes, “Hell ya, mine’s so tight I have to clench my ass cheeks everytime I do a sitting spin, or else the spandex gets too tight and gives me the absolute worst wedgie.” 

Seokjin rolls his eyes. “Guys, shut up. You know who has the worst, tightest outfits? The swim team.” 

The three of you stop talking, and burst in laughter as Seokjin rolls his eyes. You imagine the swim team in their tiny little speedos, junk squeezed tight and asses practically fighting to get out. You snort, “HAHA, don’t those guys ever like accidentally moon someone or like slip out of those things? I feel like they’re so small on their hips, it’ll fit around me.” You giggle, and Irene joins you, laughing at Seokjin’s disgusted expression. 

He’s about to respond when a voice interrupts. “Talking about the swim team’s speedos?” 

You all turn to see Park Jimin, captain of the Men’s Ice Hockey team turn up with a few of his teammates to your table. He sets his tray down next to yours, and laughs when Irene nods. 

Seokjin resumes, “Okay they’re not that tight, like I won’t lose any sperm because of it. They’re just...snug.” 

Irene cackles. “How do you even know?! You’re a snowboarder!” 

He shrugs, chewing thoughtfully. “Sometimes when you’re boarding you need a little extra waterproof protection.” 

The entire table explodes into laughter and disgust, and you join in, finally feeling a weight lifted off your shoulders. 

“Man, this makes me remember how it was in camp all those years ago, doesn’t it?” Jimin adds, and you guys all reminisce to the high school days, where athletes would attend a “athlete-morale” camp over the summer every year, which was just a sorry excuse for job-less coaches to shove down inspiring speeches and “team-building” activities down your helpless throats. 

A lot of you separate into your own conversations, launching into giggles and yells of memories you all shared together. That’s how you knew so many of the Olympians here. Even though you all had different schedules and different sports and areas of interest, somehow most of you had gathered at this camp every summer without fail. And every summer, the lot of you would suffer and bitch and complain together about how stupid and useless the lessons and activities were, and plot ways to escape your cabins at night to sneak away and do some drinking or exploring. Given, you drove your camp leaders crazy. They’d never seen a group of athletes like you guys, they said as they warily sent you home after a week of sleepless nights. 

Jimin nudges you. “How have you been?” 

You grin, turning to him, “Good, you?” 

“Same as ever,” he grins, smiling the sweet smile where his eyes would crinkle. 

“Actually you look a little different, you lost a lot of your baby fat.” You reach over and pinch his cheeks, and he frowns at you humorously as you laugh. “I remember we used to call you acorn because your face was so round.” 

He groans, “Seriously, I never forgave Yoongi hyung for coming up with that name.” 

You laugh, sipping your coffee. “I hear you and your team won silver in nationals, congratulations.” 

He sighs, “Thanks, y/n, but you know in our world, only the gold is worth congratulating for.” 

You nod, “I know how that feels.” Shrugging, he agrees with you, sending you a sad forlorn apologetic smile. He probably heard down the grapevine that you’d gotten silver.

“But at least this year, you’re gonna win gold right?” 

You shrug, picking at your cup. “I don’t know...the routine is really hard and I’m still jet lagged and not feeling my best. I’m getting nervous, and that anxiety was exactly why I stumbled a bit during my routine last year and lost the gold to Jennie.” 

“Ah Jennie,” he recalls, “Pretty, but sort of a bitch.” He shrugs, and Irene cuts in. “Sort of? Nope, she’s such a bitch.” 

The two conversations between yours and Jimin’s and Irene’s with Hoseok and Seokjin merge as Irene rolls her eyes. “Oh my god, it was ridiculous. Jennie’s routine wasn’t half as great as y/n’s but there was a slight stumble, which wasn’t even a stumble, and Jennie won. Which is ridiculous because Jennie actually tripped and had to leave out a spin on one of her turns to make sure she didn’t actually fall.” 

Hoseok tips his head. “Y/n, you stumbled?” 

Before you can even answer, Irene does it for you. “It was literally just a slight stumble, at most she switched her blade and landed with a bit more spark than usual.” 

You shrug, nodding at Irene to thank her for explaining it. You’d had to explain it way too many times now. “Whatever, it’s past now, and there’s not much I can do about it. We’re both here now, so it’s just important that I stay focused.” 

Seokjin nods. “Don’t worry, y/n. You’ll win. I’m sure of it.” 

Hoseok snorts, “How?” 

Seokjin makes a funny face, “Didn’t ya’ll know that I’m a genius and got voted the #1 most handsome face of the Olympians? If anyone knows things like that, it’s me.” He says, and everyone chuckles at it. Same ol’ Seokjin. 

“Speaking of which, here comes #1 most “daddy” Olympian.” Hoseok comments, glancing at the entrance of the dining hall. By instinct, you turn with Irene in your chair to see Jeon Jungkook sauntering in with the rest of his snowboarding team. 

The guys are gorgeous, with languid body movements, but strong bulky builds underneath all their protective waterproof jackets. Their jaws were chiseled and their looked rugged in that hot way. Jaebum, the one on Jungkook’s left was Irene’s favorite for a while, and was handsome and charming enough to even appear on a couple of variety shows and drama cameos. The snowboarders were actual celebrities back home.

You roll your eyes and turn back as quickly as possible, but not before Jungkook’s gaze settles on yours with a smirk. “I don’t even understand how that vote was even cast.” You grumble, sipping your coffee. “Seriously, out of all the other athletes, Jungkook? Gross.” 

Jimin laughs. “Well, who do you think would have been #1 then?” 

You groan, cringing. “To be honest, you or Seokjin.” 

All of you laugh as Seokjin pumps his fist, “Yes!” He cries out, food flying out of his mouth again, to Hoseok’s horror. “I knew it. Y/n think’s I’m hotter than Jeon Jungkook!” 

“Shut up!” you hiss, laughing as you try to get him to sit down, but it’s too late. At the sound of his name, Jeon Jungkook is drawn to your table like a fly to a light and grins as he walks over. “Incoming,” Irene hisses as she smiles up fakely at Jungkook. 

“I heard my name, are you guys talking about me?” He drawls, grinning as he perches a hand on the back of your chair. You ignore him and eat your yogurt. 

Jimin laughs, lifting a hand to shake hands with Jungkook. “’Sup dude, it’s been a while. Lookin’ good.” He smiles and you watch in disgust as Jungkook laughs, tainting Jimin’s innocent and beautiful presence with an entire bucketful of gross cocky frat-boy confidence. 

“I’ve been cutting a little bit, trying to not bulk too much these days,” Jungkook shrugs, flexing his arm a little to the delight of the gymnasts a few tables over. “I started getting a little less air once I started bulking up. But you’re lookin’ better bro, you guys training a lot?” 

Jimin nods, clapping the teammate next to him on a shoulder lightheartedly. He grins his charming smile again, his eyes crinkling on the sides. “Yeah, our couch has been pushing us real hard these days, but it’s been working. We’re all at our best weights of the season, and feeling real good for the upcoming games.” He smiles at you, glancing sadly at your poor little salad. “Y/n, you must be having a hard time recently too, right? Coach has us on a strict diet, but yours is probably stricter, isn’t it?”

You sigh, pushing around your cold chicken breast around on the plate for both guys to see. “I eat less than a thousand calories per day, all divided into six tiny meals. Helps keep off the weight so that I can jump higher. I can’t remember the last time I had an all-you-can-eat korean barbeque dinner. Maybe it was when I was in elementary school? Legit over a decade ago.” You shake your head as you picture the cold piece of meat as a sizzling hunk of delicious pork. 

It doesn’t help. 

Jungkook laughs, inviting himself to take the empty seat next to yours, his arm draped over the back. “Well, I for one, think you have an amazing body.” He winks at you and you pretend to gag as everyone chuckles at the table. 

“Gross!” you exclaim, pointing your fork menacingly at him. “Don’t you have some other girls to flirt with besides me? I’ve had enough fratboy for a day.” 

He grins, hand splaying across your back, warm against your skin. “Trust me, y/n, you’ll never have enough of me.” He winks and bids everyone a dumb cocky drawled “Later guys,” and walks off with his boy band team. 

Hoseok grins at you, “Was I high off my painkillers for a second or did Jeon Jungkook actually flirt with you and basically imply that he wanted to bang?” 

You choke on a piece of lettuce as everyone around the table nods, Irene and Seokjin chiming in with a simultaneous, “Totally.” Before turning to eachother with wide eyes and high-fiving. 

“Gross!” You exclaim again for the second time that morning, washing it down with a swig of water. “Me with Jeon Jungkook? I feel my ovaries shriveling up at the thought of sleeping with that frat-boy pig.” Jimin just watches you carefully.

Hoseok shrugs, “I bet if you sleep with him, it won’t just be your ovaries shriveling up. I hear he’s great in bed.” 

“Ugh! God Hoseok! Can you like not?” You cringe, and he laughs. 

“I can’t help it! He’s cute!! If he swung this way, I’d jump on that even before he could even know he was gay.” 

Everyone laughs and shakes their head at Hoseok’s blunt gayness, and you just grin uncomfortably as you turn back to your salad. You look up to see Jimin just watching you with a shy smile as he continues eating without a word. 

After breakfast, it was time to stretch a little more and actually start skating. You say bye to the rest of the crew and make your way to the gym again with Irene. You cringe, massaging your shoulder as you walk over. 

“Fuck,” you mutter, kneading the sore muscles. “My shoulder is all messed up...” 

Irene turns with a worried expression. “Oh shoot, I knew that not sleeping with a neck pillow would mess with your trap muscles. Did you bring your muscle cream with you?” 

Rummaging through your pack, you frown, “No...shit it really hurts though.” 

She pushes you towards the dorms. “Go and get it before we get on the rink, Coach’ll kill you if she finds out you didn’t treat it before getting on the ice. You know how she is. One little painful thing and she’ll go crazy on you and make sure you get it treated and ban you from the ice until it’s better.” 

You nod, biting your lip. “Don’t wait up for me!” You jog in the direction of the dorms. 

It’s a bit chilly, but the cardio helps a little as you make your way up the lavish road towards the towering buildings. The olympic villages...were always nice on the outside, but pretty dumb on the inside. 

Athletes were organized into country teams and shoved into tiny little apartments by gender, provided with college dormitory-style like rooms with two or three beds shoved into them with skinny little closets for your coats and stuff. You sigh as the dorm doors open to a rush of cold air, and scan your nametag before jogging over to the elevator, staring at your phone and logging your breakfast calories. 

The elevator opens and you nonchalantly walk inside, but right before the doors close, a hand comes in and slams the door crevice, forcing the doors to open automatically. You frown at the noise and look up to see who it is, and your jaw drops as you see Jungkook smirking at you as he steps in the elevator. You roll your eyes and drop your neck back to your phone as your typing fingers become a little harsher at the screen of your phone.

He grins at you, “Whatcha doin’?” 

“Trying to have some alone time,” you grumble, rolling your eyes at nothing in particular. He grins and somehow in his brain interprets it as an invitation to move closer and peer at your phone screen. “Sexting?” 

“No, god Jungkook,” you yelp, twisting the screen away from him, “You’re still super gross.” 

He laughs as the doors open and he trails after you. “This isn’t even your floor.” You grumble, walking down the hall towards your room anyway. 

“This isn’t even my building, but you knew that already.” He shrugs, grinning at you. He knew you too well, and he knew that too. God, you just wanted to strangle him in that pretty little neck of his. You unlock your door and he hovers, watching you rummage around your room for the bright blue container of your muscle cream.

“So, you have a thing with the hockey player?” He leans against your door, eyeing you with a cocky smirk.

You huff and drop your duffel, giving up on finding the muscle cream you were positive you packed. Hands on your hips, you face him with a glare.

“Just because I exchanged a couple of words with Jimin doesn’t mean I’m dating him, Jungkook. I’m not like you, fucking the first thing he sees.”

He hisses between his teeth, throwing his head back as he chuckles. “Oooo that burned. Straight from the ice princess. You really chose your sport didn’t ya? Double meaning and all.”

Glaring, you roll your eyes and turn back to digging through the drawers. “Why the hell are you here? I need to apply my muscle cream.”

Grinning, he produces a condom packet from his pocket. “Guess what? These are Olympic grade. I would hate to waste them when they’re giving ‘em away so freely.” Shrugging, he gestures between the both of you. “We can see if they work as well as they’re supposed to?”

When you don’t reply, he grins again, letting the door shut behind him and lock as he saunters over to you.

“So whaddyou say, for old times sake?” 

You groan, whirling around and facing him head on with a glare. 

“Jungkook,” you grit, “we slept together twice. Four years ago. There is no old time’s sake.” You wave your arms dramatically. 

He laughs, leaning back comfortably on your bed, and you groan. “Yeah it was four years ago, but equally as good. I mean,” he wonders, flipping the condom around in his fingers, “who knew that the goody little ice princess was actually such a freak in bed?” 

You finally find the annoying little blue container and spin at him with hands on your hips. “Stop talking about that night. It never happened, okay? No one can know.” You twist open the container and unzip your jacket to reveal your sports bra and turn away from Jungkook to apply it. 

He watches you struggle to reach the spot near your shoulder blade. “Need help?” 

You glare at him over your shoulder. “No.” 

He shrugs, “Your legs are flexible, but you know your arms not flexible enough to reach it and everyone’s out for training now. I’ll do it, no funny business.” He stands, and you glare at him but let him draw nearer as he takes the container from you. 

“Turn around,” he says gently, and begins to slather on the cream into your shoulder and neck, rubbing it in so that the stickiness is absorbed completely into your skin. You wince as he rubs too hard and he apologizes, setting the container down and concentrating on not rubbing too hard. 

“It wasn’t only four, you know,” he mutters, and you pause, frowning. “What?” 

“We slept together twice four years ago during the games, but we also slept together a couple more times after that. Just not at the games.” He stops rubbing, and you jerk your jacket onto your shoulder again, standing up from the bed with a glare as you pack your backpack. 

“Dont,” you warn, teeth gritted, “talk about that in front of anyone, ever. It could jeopardize our careers. Do you understand?! A few drunken nights together doesn’t mean anything! No matter how hot you think you are!” You storm off, jamming your shoes on and stomping outside. 

The only thing you hear before the door slams shut is his cocky voice calling out, “So you think I’m hot?!” 

Turn, Triple toe loop, land, Bielmann spin, stop, smile, turn again blade change.

You chant the routines in your head as you glide over the ice with the music. Although there were still 2 weeks left ahead of your actual performance, it was still crucial that you skated your program more than 10 times a day so that it was completely muscle memory by the time you stepped onto Olympic ice. 

Your teammates watch carefully from the sidelines with your coach, who’s carefully scrutinizing your every move. You finish with a flourish, chest heaving as the swell of music ends. 

Irene claps happily and Hoseok also joins her, cheering your name as you crumble over, hands on your knees as you heave with the effort of skating heavily for so long. Your coach steps onto the ice, patting your back as you put on your skate guards and take a seat. 

“Good job Y/N,” she nods, stepping aside to let other skaters take to the ice. “Why don’t you go home today and stretch a little? You’re looking a little stiff.” 

You nod, and on the corner of your eye, you see Jennie Kim step onto the ice. “Sure thing, coach, but let me stay behind and watch this one.” Coach Kim follows your gaze and softens. “Y/N,” she urges, “I don’t know if it’ll help you to watch her program.” 

“It’s fine!” You reassure her with a smile and join Hoseok and Irene on the benches as the music begins. 

Jennie was a phenomenal skater, everyone agreed. She was beautiful and thin and charming and knew exactly how to flirt on the ice. What you lacked in with performance skills, she excelled in with expressions and smiles, and what she lacked in technical jumps and clean cut programs, she excelled in making it look even more effortless and flirting with the audience enough to grant standing ovations and performing with a lot of emotion. 

As the three of you watch her run through her program, she completes jumps and spins that you never expected her to be able to complete. “How the hell did she learn to do the triple lutz triple toe loop combo?! I thought last show she had to cut it out of her program because she couldn’t land it properly!” You hiss, and Irene shrugs, her jaw hanging open too. “I don’t know...” she says lowly, watching Jennie glide over the ice as if she were weightless. “That...that’s impossible to do within what...six weeks? Even Rose couldn’t do it like that.” 

Hoseok gasps, “Oh my god, she faked that she couldn’t do it so she’d lower your expectations.” 

You frown and watch her finish her routine, one she stops and gets claps from other people also watching from the stands. Your coach pats you on the shoulder. “Although her routine is a lot more complex than we thought it would be, if you execute ours perfectly, you’re bound to get a hell of a lot more points than she can. Your training is gonna pay off, don’t worry about it.” 

Chewing on your lip, you nod, crossing your arms and worriedly walking out of the rink. 

Your steps are heavy as you head towards the gym. Jennie and you had once been peers, two young girls who began skating together for fun and ended up enjoying it and being actually good at it. But then, somehow, somewhere within all the competition, you both had stopped doing eachother’s makeup and hair between performances, and instead had resorted to smirks and jeers as you challenged eachother. 

Your gold medal or championship trophies matched the number of ones she had, and the both of you were neck to neck during every single match you could ever think of since you both became teenagers. 

This was probably going to be your final or second to last Olympics, and then you would end up doing promotions for companies or becoming a trainer for the rest of your life. If you wanted to live comfortably, you would have to skate like your life depended on it, and Jennie did too. Whatever medals the both of you won today would go down in history and determine the next years to come. If you didn’t win that gold medal this year, you were determined to just retire before it became even more embarrassing. 

The gym is full, with the sun high up in the air at 2pm. You can see a group of hockey players fiddling with the weights alongside the swimmers who were working the machines. The gymnasts and the female swimmers were already stretching in the padded room, and the running machines full of all types of athletes. Immediately, when you enter, the white shirt stretched over Jungkook’s back muscles is the first thing you see. 

Ignoring the clenching feeling of anxiety in your gut, you head over to the stretching area to begin cooling off. 

Feet out, leg as high up as you can, you coax yourself, mimicking what your coach would be telling you as of now. You can feel the stiffness, all the way back to your calves and the muscle cream from yesterday wasn’t helping all that much. Facing the mirror, you balance a hand on the beam and lean forward, lifting your leg up high far above your head as you balance on one foot, preparing for one of your spins. 

Through the mirror, you see him come in, his head swiveling as he surveys the myriad of other girls stretching and then smiling wide as he jogs over to you, throwing his sweaty towel around his neck. Gross. 

“So,” he says, leaning against the bar with a greasy smile. “Did you think about what I said?” 

You roll your eyes and continue stretching. “How many times did I tell you that there’s absolutely nothing to talk about?” 

“How many times after that night did you even have sex at all?” He scoffs, moving around to face you when you turn to switch sides.

“Did you like, even go out after that?” He prods, watching you stretch through the mirror. He wipes his sweat with the small hand towel, spraying some water from his bottle into his mouth and shaking out his sweaty bangs.

You switch legs, making another face when it strains a little. He notices, “oh, uh, do you need some help with that?”

You finally acknowledge him after twenty minutes of ignoring him. He was persistent, you had to give him that. Rolling your eyes you nod, “Do you remember how?”

“No,” he scoffs, but steps forward anyway, cradling your ankle in his larger hands. He’s hot, the cool temperature of the stretching area doing nothing to cool off his skin. He steps forward so the both of you are almost a hand width apart and places your ankle daintily on his broad shoulder. He then steps even closer, supporting your lower back with his hands and slowly pressing in to help stretch the calves and hamstrings.

You wimper a little because he’s almost an entire head and a half taller than your petite size and the leg on his shoulder is pressed almost to your chest. Squeezing your eyes shut you breathe in and out, the both of your bodies rocking slightly to accommodate the inflation of your lungs into your chest.

You can feel the heat emanating off his chest as he stands there looking down at you with the hardness of his body pressed up against the back of your thigh. It’s hard to not let your mind wander at that, flashbacks of drunken irresponsible high school days when you’d go to bed with him fucking you from behind and wake up to him kissing between your legs. And then you’d finish off with a nice hot bath and some good food. Back when you had no responsibilities, no worries, and no burdens on your shoulders.

The moment causes your mind to go a little hazy and in the fleeting few seconds of feeling vulnerable and the flood of hormones at the familIr feeling of his body against yours you whisper, “I haven’t” in response to his questions before. It’s too quiet to be heard over the high quality air conditioner whirring almost silently in the corner, but nonetheless his proximity lets him hear the two words.

He doesn’t say anything though, and lets your leg down from his shoulder and helps you get the other one onto his right shoulder. Rinse and repeat. But just as you open your mouth to say something more, a hand on the small of your back smooths over the curve of your hip and up your thigh and over to your ankle. Holding it delicately there, his hand grips it wth a firm and warm grasp, as he angles his head down to meet your questioning gaze.

“Me neither.” He whispers, and steps forward to press himself tightly against you. Your back presses against the bar and your hands flutter up from it to grip his forearms. You distinctly feel his hardness pressed against your belly. 

“Seriously? Don’t lie to me Jeon Jungkook. The last time we slept together was months ago.”

“I’m serious!” You give him a glare. 

“Do you…?” He trails off, and begins blinking like he does when he gets nervous.

The question lingers heavily over the hum of the running machines and air purifiers lining the training area.

His hands release your ankle and sets it gingerly on the ground, and he steps back, the warmth of his body and his chest and his hands and his breath leaving you all at once. You stumble a little back, your back resting on the bar.

Space, he was giving you space to decide.

You sigh, flexing your hands that are beginning to sweat. Your performance wasn’t for another two weeks. What did you have to lose?

Thinking about the way Jennie glided over that triple-toe-triple-lutz combination with no effort at all made you rage all the way inside, insides glowing hot from the annoyance of being fooled by her again. What was just one night of sex going to do? Your coach told you to relax and make sure you weren’t too stressed out and anxious...this...this was just an interesting way of doing it. What she didn’t know wouldn’t kill her.

“Fine,” you huff, stepping forward, gathering your things and heading out, as he jogs after you with a surprised look. “But on one condition, Jeon Jungkook. You cannot tell anyone. Are we clear?” 

He smirks, running a hand through his hair. “Clear as ice.” 

“Fuck,” you wimper as the the door slams shut behind you and Jungkook crowds your personal space. He’s breathing heavily, yanking harshly at your jacket zipper until it falls to the ground and your sports bra is all you’re wearing on top. He unzips that too and lets it fall to the ground, kissing you senselessly, lips moving against yours and drawing out your breaths and moans. 

“God I missed this,” he breathes, grabbing your waist and hoisting you up. Wrapping your legs around his waist you tongue at his neck as he sets you on his bed and strips off his jacket. “Did you miss me too?” He smirks as he sucks on your nipple crewdly and you moan in response, hips bucking up into his. 

“No--oh my god” you keen when he yanks down your legging and rubs at you through your underwear. Your hand flies down to grip his wrist, eyes squeezing shut at the sensation. “Oh-- fuck, please don’t stop.” 

He just chuckles and yanks your underwear band aside to reveal your dripping core, sliding his fingers in you with no obstruction at all. “Oh shit, Y/N, you’re so fucking wet,” he grumbles, nipping at your breast as you mewl and twist under the onslaught of sensations. 

“Take your pants off,” you breathe, panting harshly as he kneels up to peel his shirt off, revealing white milky skin, textured with taught lines and lean muscle. You help him untie the strings on his sweatpants, nimble fingers working desperately at the waistband until Jungkook gets impatient and just yanks it down his hips along with his boxers. 

While he grabs a condom, you yank off your panties, pushing him to sit up against the headboard of the bed. You straddle him, throwing a thigh over his hips and resting your hands on his shoulders for leverage. 

Were his shoulders always this broad? 

You shake away the thought as he grips himself and guides himself to your center, rubbing his sensitive tip against your wetness and smearing it around to make it more comfortable. You busy yourself with sucking a hickey against his collarbone, licking and biting until the clean flesh becomes red and inflamed and shiny with your spit. 

“Ready?” He breathes out, pupils blown out as he pants up at you. You nod and lower yourself on him slowly, and Jungkook moves his hand from gripping himself to settle and help you guide your hips down onto him. The both of you moan when you bottom out, panting and gripping each other desperately. When the stretch isn’t so bad, you rock your hips slowly back and forth, not yet bouncing up and down on him yet. 

The movement stimulates your clit against his pelvis and you moan, throwing your head back and looping your arms around his neck as you continue to swivel your hips on him. Jungkook sits there, eyes heavy lidded as he watches you with a slight smile on his lips. His hand raises to curl your hair over your shoulder, his hand following and resting on your neck as he leans down to kiss against your neck, tongue laving heavily, hot and wet against your skin as  you cling to him. 

He’s marking you too, focusing on the area right where your jawline meets your ear and nibbling against it, teeth scraping against the sensitive skin, making you moan. “Jungkook,” you whine, and he seems to understand what you’re asking for when his hand settles on your hips again and he begins to guide you up and down his length. 

The extra stimulation gets him going and he cringes. “Fuck, Y/N,” he grits his teeth and his hairline begins to dot with sweat at the effort. “I...I’m gonna cum s-soon.” 

“Already?” You gasp, opening your eyes to ask him. He nods, biting his lip as he groans, his jaw falling open. “I-it’s been a r-really long t-time. And you feel s-so fucking good. Hngh.” He groans as you squeeze around him in response to his praise. 

“Okay,” you breathe, “Just wait for me, hold on.” You reach down and rub your clit in wide circles, gathering the wetness from where you and Jungkook meet, and pressing into your clit with the pads of your fingers. Jungkook just buries his face into your neck, panting harshly against your collarbone as you continue to swivel your hips, moaning and rubbing like your life depended on it. 

With the feeling of Jungkooks lips on your nipples and his hands roaming your body, and his dick reaching parts of you that your fingers can’t even think of stimulating, and along with the 7-month-long hiatus from sex with him, you find yourself reaching the edge fairly quickly. 

“O-oh shit, Jungkook,” you whisper, letting him take over in rubbing circles on your clit, “I-I’m gonna---” You bite down on his shoulder, dampening the moans that tumble out of your mouth as you topple over the edge. At the sensation, Jungkook cums almost simultaenously as he finally lets himself go, and his moans spur you on as you quake over him and both your hips stutter at the overwhelming rush of pleasure. 

You pant and tremble as the sensations run through your entire body, your eyes rolling back as you moan and mewl and say whatever the fuck is coming out of your mouth right now at the feelings. But apparently it’s not completely and utterly horseshit that you’re muttering right now because Jungkook rocks up into you, riding out his own high and groaning your name loudly as his orgasm subsides. 

He laughs a little when he finishes, and the action makes him move a bit inside of you and you cringe, muttering a “ew you’re so sticky,” as you climb off of him. He stands after you, following you into the shower and flushing down the condom. Grinning and leaning against the doorway, he watches you climb into the shower and hose down your body. 

“How the hell were you hooked up with your own room? And bathroom?” You mutter, using the body wash there to clean off all the sweat. 

When he doesn’t respond, you turn, but a hand snakes around your waist. “Let me,” he murmurs, grabbing the soap from you and running along your back, his warm hands scratching over your skin. You let your head fall back at the sensation as he focuses a little too much on your breasts, swirling over the nipple with circular motions and gentle hands. “Again?” 

“Let’s save water,” he grins and you let him. 

You don’t save any water that day. It was 44 minutes too long. 

“Let’s go get some food,” Jungkook whines, as you both finish, collapsing on the bed with panting breathes as you come down from your high. His hands cradle your waist as you take a moment to gather yourself before you prop yourself up. 

“Huh?” You wrinkle your nose down at him, propping your arms on his chest. 

He laughs, sitting up and grabbing his shirt. “You said you were hungrier earlier. And we barely ate today, after gymming in the morning. I’m starving,” he whines, pouting at you and  you laugh, rolling off of his bed to grab your clothes. 

“I can’t,” you whine, pouting at your belly and poking the skin there. “If coach finds out I’m eating anything other than the diet we’re limited to, she’ll kill me.” 

He rolls his eyes, shrugging on a hoodie. “Oh god,” he groans, pulling on his baggy pants with easy. “You’re literally skinnier than some models that I’ve slept with.” 

You glare at him when he mentions the models and he laughs guiltily. “Sorry,” he grins, “But it’s true. You can afford to eat whatever you like. C’mon, just one meal won’t hurt.” 

You sigh, pulling on your leggings and a clean pair of underwear. Somehow...you ended up having a stash of underwear hidden deep within Jungkook’s drawers. 

“Fine,” you grumble, but the grin on your face says otherwise. It’d been ages since you ate anything other than the planned dietary foods prepared for you by your coach and  parents. This...this time wouldn’t be too bad. No one would notice. 

“Where’s my phone?” You grumble, digging through the bedsheets and your bag as you search for it. 

Jungkook shrugs, shaking out his hair. “I’ll meet you outside, gonna pee before we go.” 

You shrug him off and he leaves, and you finally find the device and slip it into your pocket. You also grab Jungkook’s really baggy hoodie and pull it over your thin workout spandex long sleeve and leggings, relishing in the way his smell floods your senses as the warm and soft fabric tumbles down your body all the way to your mid-thigh. Grinning, you turn to open the door, calling out, “Jungkook I--” 

Standing down the hall, with a packet of yogurt hanging from his lips and eyes as wide as yours, is Seokjin. His hand lingers on his doorknob, and he balks at you as you stand in Jungkook’s single room, in his clothes, and takes one glance at the messy room full of your stuff and mussed up bedsheets, and connects the dots immediately. 

“Seokjin...” you breathe, eyes darting to the main entrance. 

“What the fuck?” He sputters, pulling out the plastic packet from his mouth and stomping up to you. “You’re the girl that Jungkook’s been fucking?”

You bite your lip, trying to rack up any excuse, but you come up blank. “Oh my god, Seokjin, you can’t tell anyone! Not even Irene, if coach finds out she’ll kill me---” 

He whisper-yells at you. “Have you even met our coach? He’ll rip our balls off one by one if he knew Jungkook was slacking off in any way.” 

“Also,” he adds, frowning, “How dare you?! I thought you said he was gross.” 

You grin sheepishly. “It just happened...the stress and all, and there’s a lot of time in 3 weeks for 24 hours...” 

He shakes his head trying to get the image of you out of his head. “God,” he hisses, “I’ve been trying to set the two of you up for years! And all you two did was give me shit for it. Little did I know you two were already getting it on,” he glances behind him, to the vicinity of his room, whipping back around to you furiously. “And right next to my room?!” 

You sigh, gripping his arm. “C’mon Seokjin I know you won’t tell, but I need you to say it out loud. Please, promise me you won’t tell.” 

He sighs, groaning at you before relenting. “Alright, fine. But only because you gave me really yummy vitamins next week and medicine for my constipation.” 

You grin, reaching up to hug him. When he leaves for his room, Jungkook finally emerges from the restroom, grinning. “Whatcha two talkin’ about?” He grins, cocking his chin at Seokjin’s door. 

You march up to him, punching him hard. He doubles over, winded. “What the fuck Jungkook?!” you hiss, “I thought you said no one’s home before 3!” 

He winces, groaning and clutching his stomach. “Jeez woman,” he croaks, “Who the fuck taught you how to punch?” 

You smirk, “Get up. I’m hungry now.” He grins as he leads you to the front door. He reaches down and pulls the hood of his sweater up and around your head, bunching it low over your eyes. “Good,” he comments, doing the same to his own. “We can’t get caught sneaking out. I know of a way.” He winks and leads you down the elevator and towards the edge of the campus. 

“Where?” You hiss, jogging after him. 

He grins at you, pulling you alongside him with a warm hand that curls around yours. “Just trust me.” He walks straight for where the trash deposits are, and you wrinkle your nose at the smell of rotting food and boxes of cardboard strewn messily in the garage. But in the corner, you can clearly see a door marked with a red EXIT sign. 

“That’s the only one that doesn’t lock, all around campus,” he explains, slowly and gently opening it and glancing around to make sure the coast is clear before jogging out with you. “The others have cameras or guards, but this one I guess was forgotten with all the other construction that was going on.” 

You hmm in agreement and relish in the way Jungkook’s hand feels against yours. It’s a lot bigger, and his long fingers curl all the way to the middle of your palm, where his thumb strokes gently and warmly against your smooth skin. Feeling the way your hand is freezing cold, he pockets both your hands in his jacket pockets, nesting both your hands in the warm comforts of his down jacket. 

After a bit of walking, you make it to a decently crowded pedestrian area where he leads you to a corner of the street, where a tiny snack shop sits. Your mouth waters at the sight of a couple people inside, drinking hot soups and chowing down on instant ddukbokki’s and kimbap’s and ramen bowls that made your stomach churn with anticipation. 

“Oh my god,” you whisper, as Jungkook grins at you and leads you up to the stands, taking a seat in the corner. He still doesn’t let go, letting your intertwined hands rest on the plastic foldable table. “How did you find this place?” you whisper, after he orders a heaping pile of food for the both of you. 

“It’s a secret passed down through the snowboarding team for generations,” he winks, grinning when the cook brings over a steaming pile of rice cakes and korean pancakes and kimbap for you both to start on. You use the skewer to grab a piece and pop it into your mouth, humming and grinning at the wonderful taste of spicy and sweet that bursts within your mouth. Moaning at the sensation, you skewer a few more pieces into your mouth, chewing thoughtfully as he explains. 

“The hyungs would sneak out every chance we get. Our coach is a little...stiff and strict, but he lets us do this sort of in an apology for how strict he usually is.” 

You nod, chewing and washing it down with a sip of hot soup. “And does he come with you?” 

Jungkook shakes his head, using his free hand to grab a kimbap and chew on it. “Nope, he lets us have our thing. It’s like a tradition. I think this year, the team plans to come back here at least a few more times before we have to go back.” 

You grin, happily finishing up the plate of rice cakes. Staring at the empty bottom in horror you gulp. “Oh shit, when did I finish this whole thing?” You frown, trying to count the calories in your head. “Fuck, I’m screwed.” Dropping your skewer, you feel tears of shame brimming in your eyes.

Jungkook just frowns and shakes his head. He calls out for another order and you protest, but he just retorts, “Even the people with the best bodies let themselves have cheat days for goodness sake. You need this, Y/N. Don’t just de-stress with sex, rejuvenate with some food too.” 

You melt under his worried words and grin, sheepishly nodding when he hands you a new skewer. 

“Thanks Jungkook,” you whisper, taking another sip of the delicious ramen. “I love this place.” 

He grins, his hand curling around yours tighter. 

Once the both of you finish eating, he takes you around a bit more to explore, and then the both of you stumble back into his dorm. 

“Oh my god,” He mumbles into your neck as you unbuckle his jeans and slip a hand down his boxers. “Your hands are freezing,” he grits, licking and kissing at your neck as you pump him tightly in your fist. 

You giggle, letting him undo the zipper of your jacket and slide your jumper off of your torso. His hands fall heavily on your breasts, cradling them and letting their weight fall into his palms as he presses you into his warm bed. “Yours too,” you pant, the end of your declaration hitching up into a moan as he moves his mouth down to suck harshly at your nipple before tenderly running his warm tongue over it. 

“Let me warm you up,” he moans, and you remove your hand from his pants as he gets busy getting rid of yours. Once completely off and your leggings and panties thrown haphazardly over his shoulder, he hikes your thighs up over his shoulders and licks a warm stripe up your slit. 

Your head falls back onto the pillows, abs tensing as Jungkook gets to work, his warm mouth and tongue laving all over your lips and slit, maneuvering in patterns that make you twist and turn like putty under his hands. Your own hands are gripping at his forearms crossed over your belly, anchoring you to the bed, nails digging into his cold skin and scratching at the nape of his neck where you hold the strands of his hair tightly. 

“F-fuck,” you moan, hips jostling against his arms, “I-I can’t...Jungkook, just put it in...” you beg, core clenching as he boldly pushes you right up against the point of tipping over. But no matter how good you taste and how beautiful you sound and look right now, Jungkook also agrees that the best way to watch you cum is when you’re writhing underneath him. 

“Fine,” he mutters, rolling his eyes at you. 

So he licks one last cheeky stripe up against your clit, the rough pad of his tongue stimulating you enough to make you jump before he gets up, carding off his shirt and pants as he climbs up your body and meets you in the middle with a sloppy kiss. 

He hastily puts on the condom and slides into you with no intrusion, settling his warm weight on yours, chest against yours and hips gently rocking into your core. You moan and clutch at him desperately, throwing your arms around his neck and curling your legs around him like a vice. 

Jungkook lets out a strangled moan of your name, stuttering, “Sh-shit, don’t clench, y-you’re so fucking tight,” he grits, and when you see the way his jaw tenses in the effort to not cum too fast, you can’t help but lean up and nip teasingly at his ear and scrape your teeth against the sharp jawline. 

“C’mon,” you whisper, whining as he begins rutting into you faster, “Hurry,” you moan, and Jungkook leans up, detaching from your neck to sit up a bit better and piston his hips into you, angling himself just enough so the tip of his cock slides and taps right against the spot that has your toes curling and your eyes rolling into the back of your skull. You moan and pant and whine like an animal in heat as Jungkook wipes the sweat off his brow, and gets this steely look on his face as he drives home. 

The both of you finish, eachother’s names on the tip of your tongues and moans as you huskily whine and pant, bodies trembling with the overexertion of so much sex and the overwhelming pleasure of both your climaxes. 

Jungkook collapses on you, breathing heavily, and you let him stay there, kissing small innocent, apologetic kisses into the soft flesh of your chest as he comes down from his high. 

You begin giggling, as he does so, cringing a bit from the oversensitivity of the orgasm and laughing at the tickling feeling of his lips smoothing so softly over your skin. 

“One more time?” He asks, and he instantly feels the way your breath hitches and shudders at the suggestion. 

You smirk down at him, bringing him in for a kiss. 

“Of course,” you whisper against his lips, smiling as he grins and meets you halfway again. 

You didn’t go home at all that night. 

tbd! 

[princessniquane]

A Smirk And A Flirtatious Eyes Roman Reigns/Reader

It’s been six months since these Shield guys came onto the scene. It was shocking for all of us. They came from NXT formerly known as FCW. Dean Ambrose, Seth Rollins, and the most dare I say, b.e.a.-utiful man Roman Reigns.

These three guys have been wrecking havoc backstage. Beating down just about every superstar in the back. It was kind of unsafe for all employees. But I have to give it them they are dominating this industry.

Just like everybody else I try to stay clear of them. And for the most part I do but there are times when we cross paths. I don't make eye contact just look down and walk away as fast as I can.

I watched backstage as they went after Sheamus. Poor guy. I look to my side as Dolph walked up to me. He had a match coming up against Mark Henry.

"Promise me you will be careful. I know they already attacked Sheamus but that doesn’t mean they won’t attack again," I tell him.

"I know and I will. I promise. But you got to promise me to stay clear of them too. Especially with what you working with tonight," he teases.

I was wearing camouflage jeans and a hot pink shirt with my long black hair straight out and black combat boots. It was nothing special, just an outfit. Unlike the other women I don't care about designer clothes and shoes. As long as I'm comfortable I'm good.

"Nothing special," I shrug.

We talk a bit as I walk him to the gorilla for his match. The guy gives Dolph his cue as his music plays.

"Wish me luck."

I roll my eyes but kiss him on the cheek anyway. I go to walk backstage to find Summer to pass the time and hoping that I don't run into The Shield. But with my luck these days I don't see that happening. I get a text from Summer saying she's in catering as I round the corner.

I bump into a wall and fall on my ass. Well at least I think it was. I'm pretty sure that I didn't walk into a wall. I look up when I hear snickering. Ryback.

"Well well. Look who it is. Are you lost LITTLE girl? He he," Ryback laughs and starts towards me.

I lift myself up to tell him to fuck off but before I could get anything out he gets  attacked. I push myself up against the wall stuck in place as The Shield lay a three on one beat down on him.

After they triple powerbomb Ryback through a table they turn to me. Rollins looks me up and down but quickly walks away. Ambrose has a smirk on his face as always and it sends chills down my spine.

The last to leave is Reigns. He looks me up and down slowly as if he's undressing me with his eyes. When he finally looks at me there's a smirk with flirtatious eyes baring right into me. I feel a wetness between my legs as we stare at each other.

Then suddenly Dolph appears in front of me as to protect me from the Juggernaut. Roman scoffs at him and walks away.

"You ok? Did they do something to you? What happened?"

"Dolph calm down. I'm fine ok," I tell him.

"Calm down! You want me to calm down after-. Why does Ryback look like he went through a table?" Dolph asks. Ryback is slowly getting up.

"He deserved it. If you would just listen to me and let me explain."

"Explain what exactly? That The Shield put Ryback through a table. I can pretty much gather that since they are the only people beaten superstars down," Dolph says.

"They SAVED me from Ryback!" I grab his shoulders to explain.

"What?"

"They saved me from Ryback. I was going to meet Summer in catering when I accidentally bumped into him. He tried to intimidate me but The Shield attacked him before he could do anything," I explain to him and he calms down a little.

He sighs. "Come on let me take you to catering to Summer so I can shower."

We walk in silence. He doesn't greet Summer just tells her to keep an eye out for me. Seriously I get that they are dangerous but I can protect myself. I tell Summer all what she missed while having a quick bite to eat. Later after the show ends and everybody is making their way to the hotel, Dolph won’t talk to me.

Like come on what is he so mad about? He just gives me one word answers or shrug his shoulders. Fine whatever. As we get in line in the lobby I can’t help but think about the way Reigns was looking at me. I really need to stop thinking about this guy and forget about him.

Even though I usually share a room with Dolph or Summer. I don't want to deal with Dolph's attitude tonight. I ask the lady who my roomie was going to be. She looks it up.

"Um a Roman Reigns."

When she says that name I freeze.

"Right. Can I get a different room? I know the company already paid for a room but ill pay for this myself. He has a girlfriend and I really don't want any drama to happen. So...do you think you could give me another room?" I frantically ask.

Of course I didn't even know if he did have a girlfriend. I don't even know one thing about him except that he is apart of The Shield.

"I'm so sorry but we're all booked."

"Um...ok. Thanks."

I go to Summer who was waiting for me unlike Dolph who already left to his room and explain who I'm rooming with. She scoffs at me and tell me teasingly how lucky I am.

We are on different floors, her on the third and me on the fourth, so we part all too soon. I finally get to my room and its dark. Well I guess that means he hasn't gotten here yet. I take my shoes off and head to the bedroom.

There's only one bed. Fuck. Then the shower running registers in my mind. Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Wait I shouldn't be saying fuck when Roman Fucking Reigns is naked, dripping wet in my shower.

I try and shake the naughty thoughts in my head and grab my things for bed since I showered earlier and wasn't needed in the ring. I was so in my thoughts that I didn't hear the shower turn off.

I instinctively look behind me just to see a hot sexy wet dripping adonis standing in the doorway of the bathroom. I looked him up and down from the towel to the abs to the chiseled chest with the tattoo on the right pectoral to his gray eyes. Oh shit! I look away.

"Well well well. Isn't this a surprise. Don't worry I won't bite, unless you want me to." I can just hear the smirk on his face. Cocky bastard.

"This is going to be a fun night. I can tell. Can’t you? I mean you've already started stripping for me. How bout you give me a show babygirl?"

I scrunched my face up confused until I looked down. I only had my tshirt on and my black short shorts in my hands. I quickly bend over to put it on. He chuckles.

"Babygirl there's no need to cover up from me," he walks up behind me.

He puts his hands on my hips. I'm still bent over slightly so I can feel the heat radiating off his body. When he grinds his sex against my backside is when I realized he is no longer wearing the towel.

He pushes back and forth against me making me even more wet. I know he can feel it to because there's only one thing that is separating us is my panties. He grinds harder grunting and I push back moaning.

"You like that baby? Huh?" I nod my head. "You want my cock?" I nod again. "You want my big fat cock to fill that pussy of yours don't you babygirl. I want you to beg for it."

Fuck this feels so good. I can feel just how big he is and I just need for him to take me. I don't beg but the way he is going I may have to make an exception. Just this once. But wait...

"What about your girlfriend?"

"Ever since I got in the WWE we've been separated. So don't worry about that because I'm sure not," he stops his movements. "You're wearing to many clothes."

He takes my shirt off and lay me on my back and hover over me. He kisses me hungrily as he palms my wet heat. I moan his name.

"Beg for me." He slips his hand in my panties and rub my clit.

"I don't beg."

He chuckles. "We'll see."

Roman takes my bra and panties off and spread my legs as he gets in between. He thrusts two fingers in slowly while sucking and tugging on my nipples. I arch up into the sensation he gives me.

When he switches to the other nipple he pushes a third finger inside my pussy at a fast pace. I was moaning and grinding against him. I can feel the precum from him on my thigh as he breathes in my neck.

"Beg!"

"No," I say as i shake my head side to side.

"Do it!" He goes to an extreme slow pace as I clench close to orgasm.

"Fuck! Yes! Please Roman...I want your cock so bad! I need it so much! I need you fat cock to pound my pussy hard! Roman please!" I finally beg needing more of that feeling.

He grabs the back of my neck and pulls me into a bruising kiss as he removes his fingers. He licks them clean then start to leaves kisses and bites as he goes down my body spreading my legs. Roman sucks on my clit then nips at my right thigh then left and back to sucking my clit.

"Please," I whisper.

Roman wastes no time and dives into my heat. Licking, sucking, and biting at my core while my hands are in his hair and gripping the sheets moaning. The heat builds up to fast and quickly and before I realized I let go screaming Roman's name. He takes every thing that i give him.

Our neighbor bangs on the wall telling us to be quiet.

As I catch my breath he circles my clit with his tongue. I whimper. He kisses back up my body and to my lips. He slowly pushes his length inside me as he continues to kiss me. I arch up as he slides home and let out drawn out moan.

Roman wraps my legs around him as he thrusts deeply. He moans in my ear and it is the sexiest thing ever. I don’t think I can get more turned on then I already am. This feels way to good.

He sits me up with him with me in his lap thrusting fast. I have my arms around his neck and shoulders scratching and running my fingers through his hair. I pull him in for a kiss as I grind hard on him making him groan.

He surprises me with a slap to my ass. I moan.

"You like that?" He does it again. "Huh? You like it when I spank this fat ass?" He hits the other cheek.

All I could do is moan every time he gives it a smack. He pulls out and gets me on my side and goes behind me thrusting back inside. I tangle my leg with his as he bites and licks at my neck while he pounds into my heat.

His grunts and moans in my ear felt so erotic as he grabs, touches, pinches, and rubs anywhere he can. Roman rubs my clit at a fast pace. I bulk up to his fingers while grabbing onto his arm.

Roman bites down on my neck extremely hard on one thrust. He pulls out again and forces me on my hands and knees. He fucks me harder and goes deeper penetrating my g spot everytime. He pins my hands down and lifts my bottom upwards.

"Aaah! Yes...oh fuck. Just like that baby. You feel so good," he moans. "Almost there. Almost there...shit."

The only sounds in the room were our moans, obscenities, and skin smacking skin. Roman then starts back giving each cheek a smack. I moan in bliss as he doesn't stop fucking me from behind. It is way too much for me that I'm on the brink of-.

"Oh shit! Fuck Roman...." I scream out as my orgasm hits me hard.

"Aaaaah fuck! Babygirl...fuck!" He cries out as he cums.

He pulls out when he catches his breath. He then wraps his arm around me pulling me close. I snuggle up to him and feel the bite on both sides of my neck. Well that's gonna be hard to cover up.

"Don't bite much my ass."

He looks down at me and I show him the marks on my neck and shoulders. He just chuckles.

"And you loved every single second of it," he kisses me on the head.