#don’t worry bout the hair …. I was lazy

[boarsinsane]

Clydesdales are such pretty horses so I had to make ‘em a centaur

[antidesire]

a lazy lil rushed piece about (id/vendetta/di) leon eating you out, that’s all,, afab!reader

prickly stubble tickled and grazed the supple fleshy skin of your inner thighs- your body jolting and a faint yelp that would spill from your plush lips, bitten and glistening with a mixture of gloss and salvia from you and your boyfriend, leon, currently underneath you, in between your thighs.

“i’m not gonna bite you, honey.” the chuckle that vibrated in his throat ignited a domino affect of goosebumps scattering along your skin, reminding you how close he really was.

both leon’s hands were cupped at your thighs, casually slinked around them, rubbing and massaging fingertips into the plump of your skin, a gentle encouraging push to ease your hovering, surprised gasp erupting from your mouth when the tip of his nose came in contact with your clit, sparking the bundle of delicate nerves, “m’sorry sweetheart, i don’t mean to be impatient, you just smell so sweet..” he sighed out and you didn’t miss the way his brows furrowed, as though he was stressing in that beautiful head of his.

“you can sit down, i got you, your legs must hurt hovering like that.” he glanced up, speaking once again before you could worry about hurting him, as if, “i’m your big, strong, old man, don’t worry bout’ me.” he winked, “can handle sweet little things like you, my speciality.”

you couldn’t bear hear it anymore, thighs giving in, a ache lingering from holding yourself up- even though leon had been supporting your weight. “y-you’ll go slow?” you asked in something no more than a whisper.

you got no reply from the man beneath you though, about to speak up again incase he didn’t hear you but you broke out into a spew of mewls upon feeling his tongue dart out, taking a long drawn out lick of each of your labia before an even more painstakingly long lick in between, and gods, he knew he was already in love but surely this sealed the deal.

anyone may have found it overbearing, maybe silly that you were already so worked up it seemed but he just found it cute, so very cute, everything you did, your entire being, to him was cute.

and right now you smelt like that florally, fruity fragrance he bought you, and that some expensive soap from those hotels you’d been to whilst travelling with him.

you tasted even more addicting than you smelt, a sweet venom that lured him further and further.

you asked him so prettily earlier, he was really intending to do as you wish, be sweet on you, go slow but his senses were blurring along with his self restraint- if he weren’t stabilised on the bed, head between your pillowy thighs his own knees would’ve been trembling.

“leo— hghhnn!” you squeaked, hand flying up to cover your mouth, in a meagre attempt to muster up some composure.

oh but only if you knew your delicate little sounds only egged him on further, his tongue dashing out with much more force, a little sloppy but he’d chalk it up to how pretty and wet you already were.

his tongue was fucking you open, pussy slick with spit and your pearly arousal, and you only got increasingly pathetic sounding when the tip of his nose smushed against your clit, the friction and nudging adding a delicious sensation to the mix, having your toes curling and hands reaching out in a desperate manner to cling something, one of his hands reaching out, firmly lacing his fingers in between yours and squeezing enough to hurt but it didn’t matter, you squeezed back just as hard.

“m’ really— oh, oh.. think i’m really close.” broken moans gasped out, your free hand flying into his hair and tugging, earning a gorgeous grunt sound from his lips which only vibrated against you.

leon knew you wouldn’t last leon, despite your hesitations and lesser experience it didn’t take a genius to know how sensitive you are, how deprived your body really was before him, poor thing. leon was just being nice, doing you a favour, so kind of him.

he didn’t let up, neither did the grip he had on your hand or your thigh, it was painful, surely to leave bruises but your mind was far more preoccupied by the bubbling feeling sizzling in your lower stomach.

you sobbed, fat tears rolling down your warm cheeks as you pushed yourself further against his face, body moving on its own to greedily chase the oncoming euphoria.

he would’ve laughed at your eagerness if he didn’t have a face full of your pussy right now.

“le— leon! o-h my god, leon, leon!” you chanted out like a prayer and in your eyes, right now leon was the only god.

burning hot heat spread all throughout your body and you felt like you were cumming endlessly, eyes screwed shut and mouth draped open, chest almost burning from how long you had held your breath upon chasing your high.

“fuck, oh my god!” you cried out, whole body shivering as you fluttered your eyes open, heaving to catch your breath, your fingers in his hair relaxed but his grip on your hand never left, you could feeling his thumb rubbing against the back of your hand and it helped bring you back to reality.

you were dazed, brain almost lagging behind as you jutted out your lips, eyebrows furrowed as glanced down at leon between your legs, shifting your weight off of him with his help, settling yourself on his chest.

“you okay sweetheart?” he rasped out, tongue dashing out to lip over his cum soaked lips, chin glistening with it too, feeling a bolt of that same pleasure run through your body against at the sight.

you couldn’t muster out a coherent sentence, deciding a nod would suffice.

“n’aww, you’re so fucking cute, c’mere.” he pushed you against him until you were laying on his chest, brushing the back of his hand against his chin to help clean the mess you made.

you melted into a puddle as soon as his arms wrapped snuggly around your waist, your own coming around to hug onto him, head nuzzling comfortably into his chest as though he was your very own pillow.

“i love you..” you muffled out quietly against his chest,

you would’ve heard him say it back, more than once, would’ve felt the array of kisses on your head and fingers tracing along your back but you had succumb to the sweet call of rest far quicker than either of you expected, he didn’t mind though, he’d say it a million more times.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Don't Speak 15

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)

Character: librarian!Andy Barber

Note: Happy Wednesday

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

You don’t feel better in the morning. The night brought little relief as your anxiety kept you wired and worried.

You can’t help but think of home and Amber. Will she be upset? Maybe she’ll be relieved. She’ll no longer have to look after you. She’s free.

That’s not home anymore. That thought tears you apart. It’s as if you can feel your insides stripping away as you tell yourself that over and over. You have no home. Not anymore. You’re not sure you ever did.

You sway between bouts of sobs and staring blankness. Not quite numb but too overwrought to feel. The house is strange, this bed is not your own, and you are lost.

A gentle rapping comes at the door as you wallow. You are trying to change. You won’t be the same burden you were to your sister. You are going to get better. Andy will not see you like this.

You suck back your grief and force yourself up. You cross to the door and open it a crack, hoping he doesn’t notice your swollen eyes. You force a sheepish smile as he greets you with a sleepy blink.

“Hey, just wondering if you wanted coffee,” his voice is sandy with sleep, “I gotta get the day started.”

“Um, no, I’m… I’m okay,” you croak before clearing the frog from your throat, “thank you.”

“You doing okay?” He puts a large hand on the doorframe.

“Mhmm,” you nod as you suck in your lower lip.

“Tea? I can put the kettle on.”

“Er, well, I was… I should shower first, if that’s okay?”

“Oh, sure,” he brightens up, rubbing his eyes as he takes a step back and yawns, “let me show you…” he beckons you out with a lazy wave, turning to cross the hall and open a door, “just in here.”

You let the door fall open and emerge, your pajama pants dragging at your feet. His own are low on his hips as he wears a grey tee that strains across his shoulders. You tiptoe forward and peer through the doorway.

“There’s some stuff for you,” he points to the small lilac basket on the counter, “I wasn’t sure if you would need anything but I grabbed some stuff. Just in case.”

“Oh, that’s… that’s really nice. You didn’t have to…” you clasp your hands together.

“Nah, it’s fine,” he assures you, “but yeah, sure you can figure it all out. And you know where to find me.”

“Okay, thanks,” you step aside as he backs out.

He faces you, trying to smooth his mussed hair, “you sure you’re doing alright? Big change.”

“Yeah,” you lie, “I just… need to get used to it.”

“Makes sense,” he nods, “well, I’ll be downstairs with my coffee.”

You grumble and turn to the bathroom. You stop yourself as he begins down the hallway. 

“Andy,” you call after him.

“Yeah?” He stops at the top of the stairs and looks back at you.

“About that job… can you ask about it?”

“Sure,” he says, “no problem.”

You wait for him to descend then close yourself up in the bathroom. You flick the lock into place and go to the basket on the counter. It smells very nice. There’s an assortment of goodies; bath bombs, creams, soaps, lotions, conditioner… You have your own stuff in your bag, cheap buck store stuff but it does the job. Still, the vanilla and cocoa scents are lovely.

You choose a few bottles and place them on the little shelf inside the shower. You figure out the faucet, testing the temperature with your fingers before closing the curtain. You undress slowly, taking your time as you focus on your simple task. More so to avoid the dread tugging at your brain.

You step into the tub and admire the pristine white tile. Your sister kept her house well but it didn’t change the decades old trim and worn out hardwood. This place is so sparkly and new.

Your curiosity distracts you from your purpose. There’s a little round object on the wall, attached by a suction cup. Looking closer, you figure out that it’s a speaker. Ah, bluetooth probably. How cool.

You bask in the heat of the shower and take your time in cleaning yourself. It’s almost renewing. 

You’re washing away your old life, getting ready for the new. One step at a time. First; the painting. That’s simple. Then maybe, the job at the library. See, you can do it. You just need to stay focused. 

Yet, it feels all so complicated as you try to unknot the tangle of your doubts. You want to be excited but you’re just afraid. 

📚

You spend your morning trying to get started on painting. With Andy gone, you expect it to be easy but your focus is fleeting. You have your reference, your paint brush, and all the time you need but you just can’t make yourself start.

You give up around noon, after a few strokes here and there but nothing evident. It hardly looks any different than when you got set up. You’re disappointed but you can try again later. Right?

You’ll do something productive. As you enter the house, you look around at the strange walls and feel smaller. You don’t belong here. You don’t feel any better than before. Andy’s been so nice and all you do is mope and procrastinate. Well, you can do something.

You go into the kitchen. Reticent as first, you search the cupboards and drawers. Amber always loved when you surprised her with dinner. Thinking of her hurts so you make yourself stop before it can drain you completely.

Noodles… you could do a tuna casserole! You haven’t made one in a while. Not very special but it’s a meal. Amber always reminded you that food on its own is something to be grateful for.

Go away! You don’t want to think about her. It’s like she’s torturing you from afar. You’re moving on. You set her free, so why won’t she let you go?

You concentrate on your task, even as her ghost follows you around. You feel her most when you can’t find something; when you’re completely lost in this unfamiliar place. She’s that little voice telling you that you made the wrong decision. The one telling you to go home.

That’s not your home. It’s hers.

You pull out a pan with your ingredients, and a pot. You go through the steps one by one. You have the casserole ready and in the oven before two. You’ll turn it on closer to four or five so it’s ready when he gets home.

You pull out a box of crackers as your stomach clenches painfully. You only eat two before your appetite flutters away. You can’t remember the last time you had a full meal. You make a cup of tea and take that out to the garage.

You stare at the painting and compare it to the sketch on your tablet. You shrink down as you realise how much there is to do. Maybe this is too much. Maybe you can’t do it.

You drop your head, cradling it as you fight back the wracking in your chest. You just feel like crying until you’re weak. Crawling into bed and hiding away for days and days. Maybe forever. There’s something wrong with you; not just now but it’s always been wrong.

You wallow in your anxiety, swaying in between dread and self-pity. You hear an engine through the metal door and the flash of light beneath assures you of Andy’s arrival. You stand as the large door begins to roll up and you face him as he walks up the driveway. 

Oh no!

You give a panicked look as he approaches and you close your tablet. You set it on the stool as his smile falters, “what’s going on? You okay?”

“I forgot to turn the stove on,” you decry, “I’m sorry.”

“The stove?” He asks with a stitch in his forehead.

“I made casserole,” you say, “but I meant to have it ready when you got home.”

“Casserole?” His cheek dimples, “I don’t mind waiting.”

“Alright,” you press your hands to your legs and turn, marching away fast.

The door slowly descends with a creak as he follows a few paces back. You scurry inside and down the hallway. You go into the kitchen and stop short as you approach the stove. Amber’s stove is ancient, it has dials mostly. This one has a dozen buttons.

It takes a few tries but you finally get it preheating. Andy hovers at the edge of your vision. You turn and stand behind the counter, watching him, unsure what to do next.

“What kind of casserole?” He asks as he nears the island and rests his hands on the edge.

“Just tuna. Nothing special.”

He nods and his throat bobs. He clears it before he finds his voice again, “dove, that is special. Do you know–” he pauses and gulps again, “do you know how long it’s been since I had someone to cook for me? Since I had a dinner to come home to?”

“Oh?” You furrow your brow. You didn’t think of that.

“That’s very special, that’s… thank you. I love tuna.”

“Good,” you exhale, “good, I was… worried.”

“Worried?” He chuckles, “don’t. It’s nice just having someone here to greet me.”

He pushes away from the counter as you stay on the other side. He turns and shrugs out of his jacket before passing into the dining room. You wait there and he returns as he unbuttons the top button of his shirt. He rolls his shoulders and sighs.

“I’m all tense,” he leans on one of the tall stools along the island.

“Oh? Was it a bad day?”

“Eh, it was… a day,” he leans forward and brushes his fingers along his beard, “how about you?”

You look down ashamed and push your shoulders up. “I didn’t get much done…”

“That’s okay. You got time,” he assures lightly, “can’t pressure good art, right?”

You nod and peek up at him. Your insides twitch nervously. Just ask.

“Did you ask about the job?”

“Uh, yeah,” he bends his arm against the granite, “you would need to submit a resume.”

Your heart plummets but you fight not to show it. A resume? You would only end up with a blank piece of paper. You look away.

“Right, I’ll uh, I’ll get one together,” you utter with no real intent. You’re too embarrassed to even try.

“Just a formality, really. There’s a whole process,” he explains, “I can help if–”

A loud knock interrupts him. His cheek ticks as he glances over his shoulder. You tense up as he stands and the pounding continues.

“Not expecting anyone…” he mutters as he walks out with his hands in his pockets, his stature calm and unbothered despite the battering of the front door.

You hear him open the door as the rapping stops. You hold your breath and listen, frozen at the staunch tones that meet him.

“Sir, we got a call,” you hear faintly.

You swallow and come around the island. The unexpected visitors continue and you hear your name. You peek around the doorframe. You can see the top of the police caps just past Andy’s tall figure.

“A call? For what?”

“We understand that she’s here.”

“Uh, yeah?” Andy answers in a thin timbre, “she’s a friend.”

“Can we talk with her?”

“Of course you can but… why?”

“Sir, standard wellness check.”

“Wellness check?” Andy blusters, “look, I know the law, you have no cause–”

“Andy,” you step out meekly.

“Honey,” he turns so his back is to the open door, “everything’s fine.”

“Are you…” the officer asks your name. You nod as you inch forward. “Do you mind if we ask you a few questions?”

“Um…” you look at Andy.

“You don’t have to,” he insists.

"What's wrong?" You clasp your hands together tightly as you come down the hallway.

"Miss, we're just here to check in, make sure you're well," the first officer begins.

"Yeah, I'm… fine."

"Would you mind coming out and talking with us," the other, a woman, asks.

"Why?"

Andy exhales but says nothing.

"Okay?"

You pass Andy and step out onto the porch. The officers stare behind you. They're met with a gritty sigh.

"Sir, do you mind if we speak alone?"

"This is my house," Andy retorts.

"Sure, but we just need to chat with her–"

"Honey, do you want me to go?" He bulls through the officer's words.

"Er, I don't… I don't know."

The first officer pokes his lower lip with his tongue and signals to the other, "miss, are you being held here?"

"What?" You gasp.

"Are you being held here against your will?"

Andy scoffs and and issues a sharp, "come on."

"We had a report and it is our obligation to investigate," the second officer denotes, "so?"

"N-no," you stammer. "No, of course not."

"Thank you," she says as she reaches in her pocket, "that's it but…" she holds out a card, "I'll leave this with you."

You sense Andy shifting behind you. You take the card and read the name on it. Sergeant Macy Jones. 

"You wanna ask her anything else? Maybe if I bought her off the black market," Andy snarls.

"Sir, it’s standard procedure. We have to come out."

"Sure," Andy sneers.

"Thank you," you say, "I'm okay."

You back up as Officer Jones narrows her eyes, watching Andy as you retreat inside.

"My number's there," she reminds you.

You give one last thank you and Andy swings the door shut. He sniffs loudly and you quickly hurry down the hall. He follows but not swiftly.

He enters the kitchen as you set the timer on the stove. He clucks and stops on the other side of the counter.

"You know it was her, right?"

You look at him. You figure it was Amber but she's probably just confused. Once she hears you're okay, she'll back off.

"Don't you see? She'll do anything to keep control. She wants to keep you down. She doesn't want you to be successful."

"She's worried," you say.

"About herself," he accuses, "she would claim that I… I took you? I wouldn't… dove, you came here because you want to, right?"

"Erm, uh," you slump your shoulders, his anger roiling hotly from him.

"I didn't make you come here, did I? I'm helping you."

"You are," you confirm smally, "Andy, please… I… I don't like anger."

He stops himself and faces you, gripping the lip of the counter as his brows draw together. He lets out a breath and his expression softens.

"I'm sorry," he lowers his chin and shakes his head, "I'm sorry. It's just… it's insulting. After all I did to protect you from her, she would send the police after me like a criminal. She– she would have them check on you like a child."

"Yeah," you murmur, fidgeting as you reel with his rant. 

You can't believe she'd call the police. She's trying to get you in trouble. You didn't do anything wrong. All you did was try to be your own person, but Andy's right, she never wanted that for you.

[s-coquette]

principles (2/?)

word count: 2.8k

summary: your new college roommate simon riley is a hardcore stoner who thinks he can get his way with you easily, to his suprise you don’t bend to his will.

Classes had started a week ago, things were going smoothly and you were adapting to your new environment pretty quickly.

Simon was… Unusal to say the least. He had his bouts of perverse comments and snarky remarks but he mainly stayed out of your hair. You found him attractive, who wouldn’t. I mean damn, he was a six foot something, blonde hunk that lived with you! You considered yourself lucky sometimes if it weren’t for how lazy he was. Simon was weirdly possessive, not in a worried boyfriend way, but he’d constantly ask why you were smiling at your phone, who is that guys name on your instagram notification, on and on. It was strange but you guessed he was just teasing. One day you had Jordan over to see your room and reconnect with him a little, Simon wouldn’t talk to you for a day and called you a whore for bringing a man into his house. What a hypocrite! Literally the first day you moved in he said it was your apartment too. When you told him that he only shrugged you off with a pissed off glare and something mumbled about how he was the man in the house. Jerk.

All of those signs pointed to him being interested in you, in some way at least. I mean what friend would slap your ass when you’re loading up the washing machine? Or call you at 4am, coming home from some random house party drunk off his ass, telling you how much he appreciates having a woman in the house and how he loves it when you cook for him, and that your sleepy voice is cute.

You thought about that a bit too much, the way he was slurring his words, his dumb hot voice making your toes curl even in your sleep filled state. You smiled widely when he hung up, feeling like the only woman in the world. You thought it was kind of pathetic but getting even a small compliment from him was an achievement. God, you hated yourself for it. You never experienced a true relationship, maybe something that lasted around 3 months in high school but that barely counted, you only kissed a couple times, both extremely inexperienced. You broke it off after realising it lead nowhere.

You had crushes, of course, like any other girl your age. But being this close to a man and living with one was extremely different. He was an asshole, but he was bearable. He sometimes came into your room just to piss you off so you’d throw a pillow at him, it made him laugh. And God was his laugh infectious, it was so deep and genuine. It made you flustered, made you forget why he made you mad in the first place.

He agreed to help you set your desk up today.

You hauled the thin cardboard box that contained the parts to make your desk, you’d chosen a simple white one with a big sliding drawer. It wasn’t too heavy but your legs still buckled when you made it to your apartment, too embarrassed to call for Simon’s help.

Unlocking the front door and closing it behind you, reminding yourself to lock it later, you push the big cardboard box into your bedroom.

It was about 3 pm and Simon should be coming home from the gym right about now. The only downside of that is that he hated to shower right after coming home, saying “he was too tired right now”. But you thought he was just being a lazy prick and agitating you on purpose.

The worst part was seeing his disheveled state, his short blonde hair messed up and wet, arms bulging with veins, that goddamn sleeveless loose gray shirt he wore.

You shake your head at the thought and tidy up your room, he is your roommate but you still didn’t want him coming into this mess, throwing out some cans of energy drinks you chugged to keep yourself awake. Spreading your blanket over your bed neatly and fixing your rumpled pillow. Making sure to adjust the new fluffy carpet you bought yesterday.

He was running a little late so you decided to fix up something to eat, he’d probably appreciate it coming home all worn out. You decided that dino nuggets were the way to go, it was your guilty pleasure and he loved them too, but wouldn’t admit it. Putting some fries in the oven next to them.

By the time they were done you assumed that he’d be home by now. You gnawed at your lower lip, looking at your phone and contemplating texting him. You didn’t want to seem clingy so you just sent a pic of the food laid out on the plate with “if u don’t come home in an hour they r going extinct”.

You smile and wait for a response, not even looking at your food.

seen✓

Oh. He was probably just busy.

You waited, and waited, and waited some more. Glancing at your phone while munching on a cold nugget, the clock read 5pm. You gingerly set it down and put the food in the fridge so you could reheat it later.

You’ve been wanting to deep clean the place for a while but now you were just not in the mood for it. You don’t know why you were pissed off, maybe it was just because you expected something only for it to be turned down. You liked Simon, you thought that you were just starting to develop some sort of bond. The seen only made your frown deepen.

It was already 9pm and you decided to go to bed early, you had classes tomorrow. Throwing on an old hoodie and some longer pyjamas since the weather has gotten a bit worse, you climbed into bed, foregoing your usual skincare routine.

The squeaky frames and old mattress annoyed you to no end, the first thing you’re buying once you get a job and save up enough money is a new bed.

Throwing the blanket over yourself and letting out a sigh, you barely fall asleep.

“You have a girlfriend?”

“Nah, she’s just my roommate,”

“Good, wouldn’t want anyone taking my place,”

You furrowed your brows at the womanly voice that invaded your apartment, raising yourself up on your elbows to better hear what was happening. Simon usually only had his guy friends over, barely even that. You only met this one named Kyle, and he was surprisingly much nicer than him.

“She’s probably asleep,”

You hear his deep voice ring out and some annoying giggles following behind, before the sound of his bedroom door opening was heard.

You groaned, you couldn’t believe it. Why did you think so highly of him? Of course he’d just waited until you got cozy so he could start bringing random girls in. The dejected sigh that left you was almost heartbreaking. Even worse was that you’ve never actually been in his bedroom, only ever gotten a glance at it. So he’d rather let some random woman he picked up, probably from a party, into his room rather than his roommate?

You just turned to face the wall and covered your ears with a pillow, trying to block out the noises.

“Ah! Fuck- Simon~“

“Yeah? You like it when I pound this tight little cunt?”

That made you shiver a little. It also made an ugly jealousy curl in your gut. You couldn’t block out the noise even if you tried.

Loud girly moans, she was either faking them like a pornstar or he was actually that good. You listened to his bed creak and her loud whorish moans for what felt like an eternity, when the sounds ceased, you felt a wave of relief wash over you. Then followed her loud giggling at everything he said, you could hear her whining when he pushed her off for being too clingy, the pout in her voice.

You let a out a breath of relief once they actually fell asleep, the loud thumping of your heart and your furrowed brows making it hard to fall asleep yourself, but you managed.

You woke up to your alarm, letting out a groan and trying to fish your lost phone out of the bed to turn off the blaring noise.

Sitting up blearily, you rub your eyes from sleep, sitting up and putting on your fuzzy pink slippers to go to the bathroom. As you were about to reach for the handle, Simon opened it for the inside, wanting to come out.

You raised a brow at him, annoyed to see him look so smug so early in the morning. Looks like he had just taken a shower, a towel around his lower half with hickeys staining his whole neck and some of his chest in dark purple splotches, almost like watercolors.

“Had fun last night?”

The grin that graced his face was so pretty that you wanted to slap it off.

“No, bet you’d be tighter than her,”

Your drowsy eyes widen, all sleep seeping out of you at the words he just uttered. He just nudges you out of the doorway and continues on with his day.

What the fuck is wrong with him? He keeps giving you mixed signals, now you just think he’s fucking with you. Finishing with your business, you make it to the kitchen to find him slurping down some cereal, now dressed in a simple T-shirt and blue jeans.

“Where’d your girlfriend go?”

You poke at him, opening the cupboards to fish out a bowl and scanning the drawer for a clean spoon.

“What? She’s not my girlfriend.”

He snorts, that dumb smile on his face making you want to rip his throat out.

“Sure sounded like it- Oh my God, Simon you ass, did you eat all of the cereal?”

He only grins at you and shrugs his shoulders.

You groan out and slam the cupboard shut, grabbing last nights food and plopping it into the microwave to reheat it.

“Why’d you make so much of those?”

His deep voice startles you yet again, the stoic tone of his every sentence making you stan on edge sometimes.

“Thought you’d come home to have some.”

You mumble, taking it out of the microwave and sitting across from him, avoiding eye contact while playing with something on your phone.

You see his giant hand reach out and grab a nugget from the plate before you could slap it away.

“Simon!”

You whine, mouth full with food, making him snicker.

“You had your chance to eat these last night but I guess eating some random chicks pussy is better.”

You snap at him, a glare directed his way.

“Yeah? It would’ve been yours if you weren’t such a stuck up little brat.”

You stare at him with wide eyes yet again, mouth open to reprimand him.

“What? You a virgin or somethin’?”

You shut your mouth and swallow your food, not so confident in looking at him now.

“Well… Yeah?”

He grins and crosses his arms over his chest, chewing his food slowly.

“That explains it.”

He abruptly gets up and leaves the kitchen, not before knocking his hands on the top of the doorway like a little kid, leaving you stunned yet again.

You grumble and finish your food, getting ready for your first class. Wearing a simple gray hoodie and some pretty baggy jeans, doing your everyday makeup and hooking some earrings in.

You met a girl the first period, she had long brown pin straight hair, thin figure, nice face shape with bright green eyes, her name was Alexis. She introduced herself to you first, she was extremely extroverted by the looks of it since she knew almost everyone in your class.

You exchanged numbers by the end of it, her smiling attitude and energy making you have a positive outlook. She did kind of seem overbearing with her giggles and smiles, especially when waving to her guy friends, but you guessed she was just like that. It was nice having a friend here, she even seemed pretty popular which meant you could probably meet more people! Awesome.

You dreaded coming home to your shared apartment. You were so done with Simon’s attitude, when Alexis offered you to go to the mall after your classes, you agreed without a second thought.

“So- As I was saying, the Lash Sensational is way better than Skyhigh, I don’t get the hype to be honest.”

You smiled at her so passionately defending her favourite mascara.

“Yeah, I use the Falsies one? I’m not sure what the full name is.. But the next one I’m gonna try is definitely Sensational.”

I acknowledge her happy grin, her gold hoops swinging with every motion of her head, taking a sip of her overly sugary coffee.

“You know- There’s this party on Sunday, I was told to bring anyone and everyone I knew. It’s basically just everyone from campus so you don’t have to worry about some forty year old creeps-“

She giggles, scrunching her nose.

“You live off campus, right?”

You give a tentative nod,

“Yeah, it’s a pain in the ass to be honest,”

She chuckles at your dramatic groan,

“I’m sure you could come,”

“Wait you’re inviting me?”

She furrows her perfectly done eyebrows and purses her glossed lips,

“Duh? You’re like, really chill. I think the girls would appreciate a new face.”

She smiles as the inside of your head rears with panic.

“Oh- I’ve never actually been to a party..”

She just smiles thoughtfully and grabs your hand, her nicely manicured fingers feeling so soft to the touch.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be with you the whole time, you don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable.”

The sincere look in her eyes made you sigh and agree fearfully, she just gave you a pat on the shoulder and explained some basic details, saying she’d come pick you up with her friends and that she’ll text you more details later.

Over the days you’ve been texting Alexis all the time, talking to her on campus and meeting some of her friends. They had a nice little friend group that consisted of extremely beautiful girls, it kind of made you insecure to even be standing next to them. But they welcomed you with open arms.

You barged into the apartment with full shopping bags on Friday, Simon was in his room probably playing video games or whatever it is he does in his free time. The excitement in your stomach was bubbling as you unpacked a bunch of new clothes, your favourite being the black mini dress covered in small sparkles that almost looked like glitter, the straps were thin and black. You put it on and grinned at your reflection in the small mirror you kept on your desk.

You wanted to send Alexis a pic but it was too uncomfortable to do in your room without a bigger mirror. You had a bright idea and stormed to Simon’s door, knocking loudly and asking if you could come in.

As expected, he showed up at the door, and you pushed past him before he could protest to use the giant mirror he had on his closet door. You pushed the light switch as you were coming in and he let out a dramatic hiss at the light.

“What’re you getting so dressed up for?”

He grunts out, falling back into his gaming chair and spinning from left to right while checking you out.

“My friend invited me to a party on Sunday,”

You grin and take out your phone while twirling around and checking yourself out in the mirror, trying to find an alright angle to snap the pic and hide the mess that his Simon’s room.

“A party? Huh.”

He snorts, rubbing his face before ruffling his blonde hair.

“Yeah? It’s my first one too!”

You giggle and snap a pic, cropping out the socks and old cans that filled his messy room. You were too busy fiddling with the pic to notice that he was standing behind you, his brooding presence too hard not to notice, his breath on your ear paired with the extreme height difference made you shiver.

“You know, you should really learn to dress yourself before deciding you’re a big girl that should go to a party.”

You yelp when he girps your half exposed ass cheek and push at his chest, his cocky laugh filling the room. You push down the back of the dress to cover yourself with a furious blush on your face.

“Why didn’t you tell me anything, you jerk!”

His grin only widens.

“Why would I? I was enjoying the view. Cute pink panties too.”

You flush and storm out of his room to hear his loud cackle following behind.

Guys i have no idea what im talking about don’t kill me btw if you want to be added into the taglist just reply to this post :) or any part of the fic

taglist:

@jupiternighties

[spark-my-nature]

Watered Down - JTK

WC: 7.6K | Warnings: SMUT 18+ Content! (Vaginal fingering, handjobs, penetrative sex, dirty talk, lmk if I missed anything!)

Your friend is wasting all your hot water, but if you can't beat 'em, join 'em, right?

-------- ⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎ --------

What is taking him so long in there?

You shifted again on the edge of your bed while the steady rainfall from the shower across the hall droned on. After the soft click of the door closing, water had begun running almost the second you’d woken up, inhibiting you from your morning duties, and the little culprit had yet to emerge. 

After the usual depraved nonsense that you got up to with Jake on a Friday evening, he’d looked at you, upside-down and disoriented from the indented couch cushion, with his sleepy puppy dog eyes, asking if he could just stay the night. 

“Don’ wanna drive,” he’d mumbled into the throw pillow, already tugging your throw blanket off the back of the cushions. As if his driving was even on the table in his current state. 

As if you could deny him, so adorably snuggled up to your wrinkled, inside-out, oversized hoodie, balled up like a makeshift teddy bear under his chin. Besides, your sleepy, intoxicated partner in crime had already fluttered his obnoxiously long eyelashes closed, soft snores rumbling out of his button nose occasionally. You’d sat there, back against the footrest of the lazy boy with your knees supporting your chin, just watching him for longer than you can remember or care to think about. 

But as you wiggled again, the pressure of your bladder screaming at you for relief, you cursed at the bastard currently occupying your only bathroom. 

Seriously, who showered for… you checked your phone for the time. 

34 minutes? 

He may be diligent about hygiene, but he was still just a man, after all. There’s only so much grooming he could do, especially in YOUR shower. 

Whimpering with discomfort, and a little irritability, you shoved off the bed, shuffling to the bathroom door. 

“Jacob! Y’almost done?” you called, listening for a second. 

Silence. 

You huffed, bringing your knuckles to the door, rapping at the wood quickly. 

“Jake, c’mon, I gotta pee,” you tried again, shifting your weight. 

Still, you heard nothing but the white noise of the overhead fan and the shower. You shoved down a brief flutter of worry when a faint mumbled curse echoed off the tub walls. 

He hadn’t drowned, then. 

Well, you had tried to get his attention, to warn him. And the shower curtain was opaque, it’s not like you’d see anything. You reasoned he had made his own bed by being a little shower hog. 

You twisted the knob, cracking the door open, immediately affronted with steam. Knocking the door frame again for good measure, you called again, “Jake?”

This time, Jake gasped, startled behind the curtain, making you giggle an apology after his shout of surprise, pushing the door open. 

“What- Hey! I’m- …showering in here,” he cried, the shower curtain rings clanging as he stretched it to each end, sealing the corners to your eyes. 

“Yeah, no shit, for the last four hours. I’m dying here, Jacob, do you remember how much we drank last night?” Flipping up the toilet lid, you unbuttoned your pants. “Don’t look,” you ordered. 

Jake scoffed, sounding a little winded, strained. “Not a problem,” he retorted. 

Shoving your sleep pants down, you quickly relieved yourself, trying not to think too hard about your naked, totally platonic, definitely no tension between you at all, best friend behind the thin curtain. 

Under normal circumstances, you would’ve avoided an interaction this weirdly intimate by all costs, but Jake was your best friend at the end of the day. He’d held your hair as you’d thrown up, he’d nursed you through a nasty bout of flu with his homemade soup and medicine, he’d been the one to rip the wax strip off your leg when you got too scared of the pain. 

You guys were unshakeable, you knew he wasn’t gonna wig out from you relieving yourself. 

That said, you could tell he was just standing there, rigid behind the curtain as you speedily made yourself decent and closed the lid. “You know, you didn’t have to stop just because I had to pee,” you chuckled. 

“I can’t- will you get out of here so I can just get out?” He sighed. 

Something in his tone sounded defeated, frustrated. You furrowed your brow, eyeing the curtain. “Wait, what’s the matter?” 

Barking a humorless laugh, Jake fired back, “That’s a joke, right?” 

“Hey, don’t be mean, I’m sorry I interrupted your precious shower time, Princess,” you bit back. “It’s not my fault there’s only one bathroom.”

Jake was quiet for a second, and you were seconds away from apologizing again before he replied incredulously, “I’m not- no, not because you had to pee, you goose.” 

Chuckling, you crossed your arms. “Okay, well! What then?” 

Jake’s shadow shuffled awkwardly behind the curtain, scoffing again awkwardly. 

“Sweetheart. C’mon. Put two and two together, please.” He snapped his fingers impatiently. 

Your eyes suddenly widened, and you blushed furiously, your grip tightening around your own arm as you rubbed awkwardly up and down your sleeve. “oh-“ you coughed, “you- …oh.” 

Jake snorted. “Finally she clues in.” 

“Well how was I supposed to know?!” You started giggling, a quick peek in the fogged up mirror confirming the pink flush adorning your cheeks. 

Jake laughed, slapping a hand to his forehead. “How could you not know?” 

“Well why are you- why in the shower?” 

“I didn’t think you’d appreciate seeing that on your couch!” 

You giggled again, rubbing at your cheek shyly, biting your lip. Definitely not thinking about it, absolutely not thinking about…

Jake continued, “I mean, I didn’t think you’d appreciate seeing it at all, but you are still fucking standing there-“ 

“Did you finish?” 

“…No, I didn’t fucking finish,” he hissed teasingly, “and if you’re not gonna join me in here, then kindly get out.” You could hear the mirthful smile in his voice, and knowing your best friend like you did, you knew he was fully expecting you to take his joke at face value and to leave him alone with a final comeback. 

That nagging best-friend-intuition was also sounding alarm bells though. Because as he joked, long-suffering ire in his voice, you also detected a rough edge beneath the surface. 

With the completely and utter faith that nothing would be catastrophic enough to scare Jake off at this point, you threw caution to the wind. 

“What if… what if I do join you?” 

Jake hesitated, before chuckling shyly. “…oh, shut up,” he disbelievingly teased. 

You blushed, “No, Jake, I-…” you giggled nervously, shyly finishing, “I’m serious. Y’know, if- if you are.” 

Another pause, and you couldn’t remember ever being so nervous in your life until-

“Uhh… y-yeah. Yeah, okay,” his breathy voice gaining confidence, “get in here, then.” 

Heart pounding, you grinned, “yeah?” 

He chuckled, his shape behind the curtain moving, presumably rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, c’mon in, darling, the water’s fine,” he flirted nervously.

You breathed in deep, mindfully relaxing your tense shoulders, and tugged your shirt over your head. You kept your eyes poised on the curtain, pushing your sleep shorts and your panties down your legs. You kicked them into a small pile, hidden off to the side, feeling shy about that for some reason.

Quietly, you approached and curled your hand around the edge of the curtain and grinned shyly, “Kay, close your eyes.” 

He laughed on the other side of the vinyl sheet, “What? Why?” 

“Cause I’m shy!” you defended, “just do it.”

Jake snickered, “…they’re closed, I promise.” 

You pulled the curtain back, keeping your eyes firmly at eye level as you stepped in, sliding it shut behind you. Your eyes settled on his dripping chestnut hair, curling up in the humidity as it hung in dark tendrils down Jake’s tanned shoulders, his back muscles flexing as he held his hand over his eyes. 

He turned his head carefully with his eyelids squeezed shut, blindly looking over his shoulder, his lips were curled up in a boyish smirk, his cheeks warm from the shower, and maybe (hopefully) from your presence. 

You stood before him, careful not to let yourself accidentally brush against him, biting your lip as you struggled not to let your eyes dip below his chest. He turned his body fully, facing you and grinning wider, which made your breath catch in your throat as nothing stopped you now from looking down if you wanted.

“Can I open my eyes now?” His voice had taken on a flirty, raspy quality, one you hadn’t personally been privy to before. It made your cheeks hot. 

You took a slow breath, nodding. “Yeah, you can- you can look.” 

He parted his ring and middle finger, peeking between his fingers to scan your face. “Yeah?” he confirmed softly, grinning. 

You giggled softly, nodding at his sweet demeanour. “Yeah,” you whispered.

His hand lowered to his side, and you watched his throat as he swallowed, then you blushed harder as his eyes slowly descended from the rigid eye contact. 

You felt his heated gaze searing into your skin, and you stood there, allowing yourself to be engulfed in his fiery, admiring gaze. It travelled down your neck, past your collarbones, his eyes lingered around your chest for a moment. He subtly licked his lips, quickly glancing down the rest of your body before glancing back up to your blushing, patiently waiting face. 

“You’re more beautiful than I imagined,” he softly confessed, boyish, sweet and shy.

The soft burst of laughter that arose from you was born purely of the nervous energy flipping in your tummy. He cracked a grin at the sound, and your voice was surprisingly steady when you teased, “You’ve imagined?”

His head turned to the side, eyes casted down as his grin widened and he shrugged one shoulder. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

You gave him a crooked smile, “Mhmm… I’ve always figured you’d be gorgeous too.”

His cheeks flushed pink and his eyes couldn’t quite seem to hold your gaze, flickering down to your lips repeatedly, making you feel even more of that restless, butterfly inducing energy.

Curiosity finally winning over, you did some visual exploration of your own, biting your lip as you stood with him beneath the fall of water. You traced your eyes down his chest, the plush abdomen decorated with that enticing wispy trail of hair. 

You swallowed down your nerves as you felt Jake’s hands tentatively come to rest on your hips, and then you looked down at his very-much-still-aroused dick, water droplets running down the length of his thick shaft, falling from the tip of his swollen head that was the prettiest shade of pink. 

You took a shaky breath, Jake’s fingers squeezing reflexively at your sides at the sound. Your face shot back up to his, the heated tension skyrocketing. 

Jake lifted his brows with a questioning, almost challenging look. You shakily exhaled, answering that challenge by bring your hand up to rest over his chest. It was hot to the touch, his soft skin wet and sweet smelling, and beneath it, his heartbeat was racing just as fast as yours. His dark eyelashes fluttered at your touch but stayed open, watching your face in lustful curiosity, seeming to search for your approval, for a positive response. 

You offered a shy smirk, flickering your eyes between his. “So…”

He grinned shyly, “So…”

You giggled quietly, and his smile widened, his thumbs swiping gently over your hips where he gripped you. 

“… I don’t wanna like, say the wrong thing here,” he chuckled. “Not really sure what this… is.” 

You tucked your chin down, giggling shyly. “I don’t know either, really. I guess it’s whatever you want it to be,” you looked up at him through your lashes. 

He analysed your face for a moment, licking his lip again. God, could he knock that off before you fainted? 

“Whatever I want it to be?” He quietly repeated. 

Your hand moved, slipping your hand up over his shoulder, wrapping around the back of his neck, and it seemed to convey the hint to him clearly enough to give him the courage to ask,

“In that case…” he swallowed, meeting your eyes, “can I kiss you?” 

Your stomach flipped, your face burned hot, and you pushed through the jackhammering of your heart to give him a shy but eager little nod, ever so slightly urging him with the hand on the back of his neck. 

His breath stuttered, and he leaned in, carefully gaging your face until the last moment, your eyes fluttering shut in sync and his lips pressing warm and wet to yours. 

Your free hand settled on his soft side, and that was what seemed to click this whole thing for the both of you. Jake’s heart raced anew beneath your other hand, and he parted his lips, returning to the kiss with a deeper slide, your faces angling into place. 

Behind your eyelids, there wasn’t the fireworks or explosions of energy you’d read about. There was only Jake, coursing through your adrenaline jacked veins. Jake’s skin beneath your hands, Jake’s hair barely tickling your cheek as he leaned farther above you in his growing boldness, Jake’s hand squeezing your hip tightly as he let his other hand wander up your back. 

He sighed through his nose with the softest little “Mm” of satisfaction, your throat responding with a quiet whine of your own instinctively. His hands kneaded the flesh at your waist, and his hot breath and his satin lips owning yours overwhelmed you in the best way.

All was Jake, but as you poured your relief and want into this hot, wet kiss, you kept coming back for more - you wanted all of him, pressing you against the shower wall, taking over every one of your senses. 

But he was still holding on to that tiny bit of distance between his front and yours, and in your kiss-muddled brain, you couldn’t quite grasp why, which was why you used your leverage with your arm around his shoulder to press your chest against his without really thinking. 

It was then that you felt the most pressing evidence of just how much this was affecting him, poking hard and hot just under your navel. 

The combined sensation of your chest squishing against his and his tip skimming the skin of your abdomen drew out the most knee-buckling whimper of surprise out of Jake. You barely had time to drink in the sound of it before he was sweetly but firmly pushing you back. Your eyes opened to the sight of his lip tucked tightly beneath his teeth and his brows furrowed with tortured desire. 

Your jaw fell open for a stunned moment, suddenly realizing what just happened, and you blushed hotter, mumbling, “I-I’m sorry, Jake-“

“No!” he cut you off, quickly shaking his head and cupping your cheek, his own face flushed bright with embarrassment. “Don’t- no apologizing. This is… it’s good, I just,” he floundered for words, eyes darting between yours as his cheeks blushed pinker still. 

Not confident in your own voice – still dizzy with want from the brush of his cock, if you were honest - you simply blinked up at him, patiently but nervously waiting, and his demeanour seemed to soften as he looked down at you. You noticed how he was shifting his weight as his eyes unfocused for a moment, the restlessness of his hips making you crack a smirk.

He mirrored it, and you quirked an eyebrow at him playfully, “Worked up, huh?” 

You had no idea where this boldness came from, but Jake’s pupils dilated in response to your challenging quip, and he huffed a shy laugh, leaning a tiny bit closer. “Maybe a little.”

You innocently shifted your own hips forward, just enough to cause his tip to graze your middle once again, and you bit your lip as his jaw popped open, his eyes darting down at the contact.

“Nothing about that is little,” you breathed. 

Jake’s eyes flew up to yours, wide and shocked for a moment until his expression slowly morphed into a hesitant but dirty smirk. 

That is, until your shower decided it wasn’t going to waste hot water any longer while you two finally worked out the tension between you. Jake, whose body had been mostly shielding you from the spray of water, jolted suddenly with a yelp, scrambling away from the showerhead, rushing to turn around and shut off the faucet. 

“Jesus fuck,” he hissed, shuddering from the temperature shock as the water stopped. 

You burst into giggles, and Jake awkwardly laughed as he straightened up. The bubble had burst, but you were honestly a little relieved to have dorky Jake back, as you watched him open the shower curtain and lean out to grab a towel for you both. 

His smile was crooked as he faced you again, stepping close and wrapping the towel behind you, draping it over your shoulders. He hesitated when your eyes met, almost as if he wasn’t sure if you still wanted to keep going now that the moment had been so jarringly disrupted. 

No way you were letting this go, though. You raised your eyebrows expectantly, and as matter of factly as you could, you told him, “See, now would be when you should kiss me again.”

His face drooped into an adorably goofy smile, and he teased softly as he leaned in, “Is that right?”

“Mhm,” you giggled, lifting your chin invitingly as he obliged you with a gentle kiss. 

When he pulled back, you met his eyes, and he smiled wide, casting his eyes down shyly.

“I gotta say, I did not think today was gonna go like this,” he admitted with a chuckle, drying off his chest. 

You smirked, toweling off your hair and trying not to be too shy about it when you re-wrapped your towel around your body and stepped out. “How d’you mean?” you sarcastically replied. 

He laughed, stepping out after you onto the bathmat, the two of you crowded together, swaddled in your respective towels as you dripped onto the fuzzy rug. “Oh you know,” he wrinkled his nose playfully, “just, going from, pathetically jerking off in your shower to the thought of you, to kissing you naked? That little thing?”

Your jaw dropped, and you giggled in shock, blinking up at him as you blushed hot for the hundredth time. “…the thought of me?” you squeaked.

Jake’s brows furrowed above his disbelieving eyes, smirking at you, “…you knew that…”

You shook your head, biting your lip as your stomach flipped. 

Jake’s face fell a little bit, his own blush returning. “What?”

You squirmed under his gaze, chuckling shyly, “…What?”

He huffed an almost teasing laugh, “Darling, you have  to have known I like you,” he insisted, smiling in disbelief.

Your whole abdomen erupted with butterflies, and you giggled nervously, “No! How could I have known that!”

He reached up to cup your face as he laughed gently, “You got in the shower with me! Why would you have done that if you didn’t know?”

You flushed hot at the reminder, and let your forehead fall into his shoulder, his arms looping around you fondly in reassurance as you chuckled into his skin. “Cause I- I like you, and I wanted…you,” you finished lamely. 

His voice was cheeky and smug above you, “You like me?”

You smirked, sighing and mumbling, “Yes, Jacob,” against his shoulder. 

He lowered his face beside your ear, practically purring, “…and you want me?”

You sucked on your bottom lip, nodding into the cavern of his neck, and he took your chin, lifting you out of your little hollow to look at you. 

“What exactly do you want?” he pried, still smiling but the tone of his voice growing more serious. He held your shy gaze, and you squirmed nervously, “a lot of things.”

He leaned forward, hovering over your face and stealing your breath away. “Like what?”

You hesitated, and he closed the gap between you to kiss your lips sweetly. Your eyes closed, and as he slowly pulled away, he whispered, “You can have it, whatever you want. Just tell me.”

You snaked your arms around his neck and shoulders, holding him in close to ease your nerves as you gave him your answer against his lips, “I want to touch you… want you to touch me.”

He swallowed, and blew out a shaky breath, nodding subtly as he seemed to gather his remaining composure. “Do you wanna do that, in your room maybe?” 

You blushed, nodding up at him as he pulled away gently, and he gave you an excited but reassuring smile. “Okay then. Let’s fool around,” he joked, making you giggle with bubbling excitement. 

“Are we teenagers?” you teased, following him across the hall into your room, watching him pause by the bed. 

He rubbed the back of his neck, and your eyes were drawn to the flex of his arm muscles, leading down his front to where the towel he’d wrapped around his waist hung threateningly loose. 

You looked back up and realized he was eyeing you the same way, making you bite back a wanton sigh. 

Jake glanced at the bed and back to you questioningly, his hands toying with the towel. Adorably nervous, he chuckled, “Um… should I- should I leave this on, or…?”

You giggled, flustered, “You can if you want to.”

He rolled his eyes playfully. “I’m asking if you want me naked on your bed.” 

You brought your hand to your mouth, biting at your thumb to channel the rush of lust coursing through your body. “Yeah,” you confirmed, and he nodded quickly, careful in his movements as he unwrapped his hips, laying down on your bed as he dropped the towel to the floor. You stared as he settled in your mess of sheets, hair splayed out on your pillow, as he wrapped his hand over his erect cock. 

He bit his lip and looked over at you, raising his eyebrows, and you followed his lead, walking over and loosening the tuck of your towel until it dropped around your feet. Jakes eyes raked over your body, and you swallowed a groan as he shifted his palm over his cock, eyeing you up. “You gonna join me?” he asked, voice husky. 

You glanced at the limited space on your bed, softly asking, “Where should I…”

He let go of his erection, smoothing his hands over his thighs invitingly. “Wanna get on top of me?”

The rush of wet heat between your legs made your knees feel wobbly, and you couldn’t suppress a quiet whimper this time. Jake sighed, “yeah?” he licked his lips, “C’mere honey.”

You carefully brought a knee up beside him, crawling over him as you swung a leg over his hips, your chest close to his face. His cheeks were pink, lips shining with spit from licking them, and you hovered over him, not resting your hips just yet, unsure. 

His eyes bore into yours intensely, and he grasped your waist, hands roaming up and down your sides soothingly, sweet and chaste. “This okay?” he murmured. 

You nodded, adjusting the way you held yourself up so that your chest leaned down flush with his. Jake bit his lip hard, his eyes unfocusing for a second. Carefully, his hands came to grip your hips, fingertips digging into your ass. He ever so gently gave a little tug - not moving you, merely inviting you to - sweetly asking, “You wanna sit?” 

Your eyes fluttered shut for a second, sighing quietly, and you mumbled, “Yeah, can I?”

Jake nodded up at you, smiling, easing your nerves. You lowered your hips, and felt him, hot and thick and hard, nestling into the wet heat of your folds. 

Jake’s eyes fluttered, almost rolling back at the sensation, his hands flexing at your sides. “Oh sweet Jesus-“

You let out a flustered little giggle, feeling deliriously turned on at the feeling, rolling your hips over him slightly. Jake’s brows knit tightly, and he gave an absentminded little smirk as he subtly arched against you, helping in the wave like motion of your grinding. 

“Fuck… Jake,” you shut your eyes, blushing as you teased him, “You’re so hard.”

He whined, and you opened your eyes, nearly blacking out with lust at the look on his face, so helplessly needy below you. His lips were parted, and his eyes trained on the gentle sway of your chest as you rocked against him. You bit your lip, glancing down and grabbing his hand from your side, and guiding it up to your chest. 

Jake bucked into you, cupping and squeezing your boob, and it sent his head gliding over your clit just right. You moaned, and Jake’s jaw dropped open, catching on a rough sigh. 

You were soaking him, and his cock started making obscene wet sounds as it drove through your folds. He kneaded your chest, bringing his other hand up to join, and you planted your hands on his chest as you sped up your hips. 

“Baby-“ he cried out, wincing in pleasure, gritting his teeth as you came to a reluctant stop. 

He panted, fluttering his eyes open to look at you, groaning softly the second they focused on the sight of you on top of him. “Fuck,” he breathed. 

You reached up, smiling shyly as you brushed his hair back. “Did you… wanna stop?”

He shook his head, grinning up at you, eyes glazed over, “Fuck no.”

You giggled, teasingly wiggling your hips over him, and his hands shot to your waist, furiously trying to hold you still as he gasped. 

Bashfully, he smiled, not quite meeting your eyes. “Don’t want this to be over yet,” he admitted.

“Oh,” you nodded, pleased with how much you affected him. “What should we do now, then?” 

He took a breath, and then sighed out, “I really want to touch you… can I?”

Jakes face… he watched for your response with such an intense expression. Like if he looked away from you he’d die. And when you took a shaky breath and muttered, “Yeah, Jakey,”.

Jake let out another sigh, seemingly winded by the desire both in your voice and brewing inside him, and he held you firm as he rolled you both over to your sides, trapping you between the wall and him on your bed. You giggled softly from the tumble, shifting to get comfortable alongside his smiling face. 

He glanced down once you’d settled, gently cupping the underside of your thigh and guiding your leg up to hitch around his waist. You felt deliriously exposed, your centre parted and spread open, centimetres from his cock. 

He let his hand smooth up, around the curve of your ass, where his hand lingered and squeezed gently as he lifted his gaze to you through his damp lashes. “This okay?” He murmured sweetly.

The grip this boy had on your heart… you felt bulldozed by his beauty. The tip of his nose, the shape of his cheekbones, the lines of past joy faint in the corner of his eyes. How anybody can look so entirely perfect, you’d never know, but the living proof stood leaning over you, examining you with just as much loving wonder as you felt. 

Drinking in every corner of your face as you gave him a little nod, his muscles shifted beneath your hand as he moved his arm between your bodies. His fingertips, tough and rugged, brushed featherlight at your inner thigh, his knuckles grazing the other leg. Your skin tingled, and your clit gave an aching twitch as the air between your mouths grew humid and shaky with both yours and Jakes nervous breaths. 

Then, his middle finger pad made slick contact with your clit. His lips parted in shock, surprised perhaps that he’d really gotten this far, or surprised by the nearly embarrassing layer of wetness coating your cunt. 

“Baby,” Jake choked out, his fingertip circling your hardened clit once, twice, hand shaking slightly. You stared up at him, brows knit and tilted up in the middle, your lips parted in a silent moan. His eyes darted back and forth between yours, “you’re so… wet…” 

The first shaky sound whimpered past your lips, drawn out by his callused digits, and you wrapped your fingers around his wrist.

“Fuck,” Jake croaked, hungry. Growing confidence, his fingers flattened and pressed side by side and began slipping in loose circles. 

You whined through your nose, sucking on your bottom lip through the electric sparks of pleasure and adrenaline. “Jake…” you mumbled, rolling slightly into his touch. 

Jake nodded slowly, hypnotized, his eyes never leaving yours, “Gorgeous,” he whispered, breathless. 

It clearly never occurred to either of you that you were equally as worked up as he was, and you felt yourself already tightening up as an orgasm simmered on the horizon. But you held off, feeling Jake’s fingers move lower, and he murmured a quick, “Can I?” waiting for your nod before sinking two callused fingers slow and deep inside. 

“Uh- fuck,” you scratched at his arm, clenching around his fingers as they gently withdrew, curling against the perfect spot as they pulled out, pushing back inside slickly. 

Jake swallowed hard, eyes locked on your face, tracing each twitch of your expression as his erection throbbed between your bodies. “You’re so fuckin tight, babe,” his voice broke weakly, and you whined at him, “Faster?”

His fingers started pumping steadily, and the heel of his hand caught your clit just right with each thrust. You groaned, arching against his hand. You held his wrist to your clit, practically humping his hand as his fingers sunk into you perfectly.

Gritting your teeth, you groaned, “Please keep going-!”

He nodded, eagerly watching you and not changing a thing, unravelling you embarrassingly quickly. 

“You cumming?” he breathed, sounding wonderstruck, breathless and so enthusiastic, seamlessly picking up to the pace that you guided him to. With a long, broken whine of yes’s, you stuttered on his hand, inwardly singing his praises that he doubled down and kept fucking those perfect long fingers into you even when your body convulsed. He gradually slowed his hand as you came down, relaxing and twitching around his digits, panting and half-heartedly rolling into him, riding out the last little waves. 

He never withdrew his fingers, even when you finally fluttered your eyes open at him, smiling wide and breathless. He swallowed hard, keeping his fingers buried in your heat, just barely curling them as he leaned forward to kiss you. After your orgasm, it felt even naughtier, just letting him soak his fingers in you as he kissed you with desperation. 

You clenched around him, and he whimpered softly into your mouth, sinking his fingers impossibly deeper, making a wet suction noise when he pulled them out slowly. 

Your whine made him suck a breath in against your lips, and your eyes fluttered open as he pulled away slightly, his fingers flying to his mouth in his desperation. His eyes burned into yours, lips enveloping his fingers and sucking your wetness from his skin, and his eyes ever so slightly rolled back under his drooped eyelids. 

You hadn’t realized you were holding your breath until your lungs burned suddenly, forcing you to exhale heavily. As Jake’s eyes refocused on yours, you grabbed his wrist, shoving it down to his side and cupping his face with both hands, pulling him into a desperate kiss. 

He moaned, low and long into your mouth, and you could feel the confidence boost your orgasm had given him, his kisses bolder and hungrier, along with the languid sweep of his tongue over your bottom lip. 

His hand slipped up your side, smoothing over your curves and coming to rest just under the swell of your breast before he cupped it and kneaded gently at the flesh. He let out another sweet moan from the back of his throat, thumb swiping over your nipple, and your body jerked slightly at the jolt of pleasure. Jake’s lips stretched into a smile, his forehead leaning against yours as you panted against each other’s grins. 

Eyes casted down shyly, you murmured his name. 

“Yeah, baby?” he matched your soft tone, the pet name making you blush and grin girlishly. 

“Um,” you bit your lip happily, running your hand down his neck and chest, “my turn now?”

Under your palm, his heart rate picked up, and he licked his lips, his breath shaky as he inhaled and gave you a little nod, “If- yeah, if you want to-“

You brushed your lips against his, your hand slipping lower between your bodies. “I want to if you want me to.”

He huffed a flustered little chuckle, rosy cheeked and gentle as he adorably rubbed the tip of his nose against yours. “I want anything you feel like doing to me.”

You answered with a wide crooked grin, leaning your forehead further against his and angling your chin down, wanting to see the mouth-watering thickness between his legs when you touched it. It lay against his thigh, full and flushed, the very tip of his head glistening with a bead of his own arousal. Jake looked down to watch as well, foreheads pressed tight together, maintaining the connection of your flushed faces as you brushed the back of your fingers down his soft tummy.

You shyly extended a single finger, tracing the pad of it down the length of him, heart pounding, hearing Jake suck in a sharp breath, squirming his hips a little at the teasing touch. His cock twitched, making you bite your lip, and you carefully picked him up, wrapping your fingers around his thick, warm shaft. He let out a shuddery sigh as you stroked him up and down once, twice, letting your wrist twist a little on the third pull. He bit his lip hard, failing to muffle a low moan, and his eyelashes fluttered in your peripheral vision. 

Missing his beautiful, reactive face, you brushed a sweet kiss against his parted lips and pulled away just far enough to focus your eyes on his expression of tortured need.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, blinking at you sluggishly with the faintest little smirk tugging at his lips. “Feels good,” he rasped. 

You raised your brows at him, a wordless yeah? He grinned lazily, brows furrowing suddenly when you swiped your thumb over his tip. “O-oh,” he stuttered, eyes closing as his lips parted, thrusting into your grip a little. 

You watched in lustful awe as you both found a rhythm, his breaths coming heavier from his chest, desperately committing the glide of his skin over his solid shaft to memory. His pink head slipping through the opening of your fist, the ridge of his head against your palm, his thighs clenching beneath your hand with each pump. 

Before you realized it, you breathed, “You’re so fuckin’ hot, Jake.”

He hissed through his teeth, bucking into your hand, his eyes fluttering open only halfway to peer at you through those long dark lashes. He shot you a shaky smirk. “You like this?” His flirty voice rumbled. 

Sucking in your bottom lip, you nodded, twisting your fist over him. He groaned softly, reaching down to wrap his hand around your fist, taking control for a moment as he tightened your grip and sped up your hand. He stared into your eyes, his brows tipping up in the middle as his jaw fell open and a sinful moan poured out of his mouth. Gaze flicking between your eyes, he panted, “You’re hot, babe.” He groaned softly. “Fuck, your hand is so soft,” he chuckled breathlessly. 

You smiled, and he subconsciously mirrored it, his pupils dilated wide and dark. 

You couldn’t help your wandering mind, watching him squirm and pant under your touch, wanting to watch it from above him. You pondered for a moment, savoring the feeling of him in your fist before quietly prodding him. 

“Jakey?”

He took a shaky breath, “What honey?” he searched your face as your hand slowed, his abdomen tensing in anxious anticipation, “Do you wanna stop? It’s okay-“

You shook your head, “No, I don’t wanna stop, I just… I wanna…”

He relaxed (well, as much as he could given your hand was still lazily jerking him), and he raised his brows at you patiently. 

You blushed, tearing your eyes away from his inquisitive ones, “Do you wanna like…” you smirked shyly, your tone emphasizing the meaning behind your words, “keep going?”

His stunned face seemed to lag for a moment, but his cock gave an eager, strong twitch in your hand, giving him away. You squeezed it back, almost in response, and he jerked slightly, blinking quickly, quietly rasping, “What- uh, how do you mean?” 

He knew, and you knew he knew, but you elaborated anyway just to watch his face. 

“D’you wanna fuck me?”

Jake’s cock twitched again, more insistently, and it made you smile crookedly at him as he swallowed hard, carding his shaky fingers through your hair. “God, yes, honey, I do,” he breathed on a broken sigh. “How, uhh…” he trailed off, eyes nervously but eagerly searching the space around you, and you knew he trying to ask how you wanted him. 

“Do you think, maybe…” you paused, eyes dipping down his body and trailing back up, “…I could ride you?”

It was worth it to bear the mild embarrassment of saying the words when his chest nearly heaved with the groan he let out, hips bucking helplessly into your loosened grip. 

He nodded quickly, trying to gather his composure, “I-yeah, yes, I’d- I’d like that. If you want,” he rushed out. 

You nodded, gently petting his cock once more then pulling your fingers away as you rose up on your elbow, gently rolling him onto his back. 

He let out a low sigh of wonderment as you swung your leg over his hips, settling yourself quickly back into your previous position, and his jaw clenched when you wet him again through your opening. 

You held him up against your clit with your hand, creating a tighter slip through your lips, and his neck arched, an almost pained sounding whimper choking out of him. 

“You want it?” you murmured, mesmorized with his beauty beneath you. He stole your breath away as those deep, sparkling eyes focused on your own, muttering under his breath, “Please?”

Nodding swiftly, you lifted up on your knees a bit, holding eye contact as you centered his head at your entrance and slowly lowered down over his cock. 

As he sank into you, his eyes rolled back into his head, eyelids fluttering closed and lips parting in a sinful whine. His hands gripped your hips tight, instinctively lifting his hips, rolling himself into you and meeting you halfway. 

Fully sheathed inside, your hips wouldn’t cooperate and stay still like you intended. You immediately started a slow roll against him, using his smooth, soft chest to balance as the stretch of him inside gave way to the delicious pressure.

With both of you as wound up as you were, he certainly wasn’t complaining when your pace sped up into a steady bounce on top of him. 

Blinking up at you through his pleasure-wracked expression, he bit his lip hard, watching you move for a moment before groaning softly, “Fuck, baby… y’know what?”

“Mm?” was all you could manage to squeak out, your nails digging into his chest. 

Jake swallowed hard, moaning softly before finishing, “You look so fucking good sitting on my cock.” 

You felt your body heat up from your cheeks to your core, responding to him with a tight clench of your walls around his shaft. He hissed, desperately sinking his fingers into the flesh of your hips. “Ah, fuck-“ 

“You look good underneath me,” you panted, smirking down at his tensed up face. 

He gave you a weak smirk, sweaty brow furrowed in pleasure. “You feel so fucking good, I can’t-“ His jaw fell open with a sharp whine as you clenched tight around him again.

Leaning down over him, you rode him a little slower and deeper, making both of you groan softly. 

“Can’t what, Jakey?” you murmured. 

Bringing a hand up and threading it through your hair, he locked eyes with you. “Can’t believe we didn’t do this before.”

You blushed a little, smiling as you casted your eyes down, flustered even as you felt him plunging deep between your legs. “Probably cause you’re my best friend?” 

He made you smile wider with his breathless, sexy little giggle, “You’re my best friend too… doesn’t mean I don’t think about it.”

“Dirty boy,” you playfully murmured, slowing down to an almost standstill over him. He took the opportunity to smack your ass, grinning up at you when you gasped. “You don’t know the half of it, baby. Keep fucking me, c’mon.” 

With a playful but flustered giggle, you goaded him, “Say please.”

Shooting you the filthiest, fucked out smirk, he gave your ass another smack and positively moaned out, “Please, please fuck me, baby?”

Your brows knit tight, and you started circling your hips over him, sending him dragging over your sweet spot, drawing a cry from your chest. 

He whimpered beneath you, watching your face contort with each thrust. His eyes trailed down your body to where you kept him buried inside you, the sight making his breath catch and his heart pound even faster. His cock glistened each time you lifted your hips, drenched with your wetness. He’d done that, he thought, you were that wet for him. Your whimpers and moans, combined with the visual, all on top of his feelings for you rising to the surface, he felt that familiar aching heat growing quickly.

“Getting close, babe,” he all but whimpered, jaw clenching as his hands shook around your hips.

Grinding your clit into his pubic bone with each bounce, you nodded fast and delirious, desperately whining as your pace faltered in your blind need. “Fuck yes, please, I wanna watch you cum Jakey… I wanna make your eyes roll back, I wanna feel how hot and wet it feels inside me, Jakey, please baby-“

With a deafening groan, his hands on your hips squeezed hard, slamming you down onto his cock harder and faster, his knees bending to plant his feet and fuck himself back into you. You cried out, face falling into the crook of his neck, sobbing out your pleasure into his shoulder and biting at it as your high built up closer and closer. 

Jake whined and huffed by your ear, thighs shaking uncontrollably as he arched his neck, head pressing into the pillow. You squeezed and clenched around him, pleading pathetically, “I’m cumming, oh-! I’m cumming, don’t fucking stop, please please-“ 

He nodded his head rapidly, hips never ceasing as he brought one sweaty hand to your hair, tugging your head back and bringing your lips to his, kissing you fiercely as you panted and cried into his mouth. “All over my cock, c’mon baby.” His jaw clenched, and his hand migrated to your jaw, gripping it and gritting harshly against your lips, “Fucking cum for me!” 

Lips melted and locked with yours in a searing kiss, you came, tight and quaking around his thick pumping cock, your contracting walls squeezing and milking Jake over the edge of his own orgasm. He groaned, broken and animalistic, furiously bucking into your sopping wet heat, slapping against your thighs as he fucked you both through the waves of pleasure. 

You finally started to unclench and relax, Jake’s hips slowing into intermittent jerks as he twitched inside you. His chest heaved beneath you, matching yours, your whole body melting into his. 

“Holy… fuck…” he panted under his breath, and you could hear his tired smile in his voice. 

“Mmm,” you hummed your resounding agreement. You tucked your face into his neck and snaked your fingers up into his sweaty hair. His arms wrapped around you, one snuggling you into him from around your back, the other tightly wrapped around your waist, and carefully, he limply rolled you both onto your sides, where he lazily grasped and brought the blankets you’d shoved down back up over your waists. 

He wordlessly drew you into his chest, nuzzling his cheek into yours, nose buried in your hair as you both slowly caught your breath. As you came back to earth, you felt safer than you’d ever felt, clutched so tight to his body. 

Other than your slowing heartbeats and breaths, it was comfortably silent for quite some time. You were dreamily enjoying being held in Jake’s arms for the moment, focusing on the rhythmic breeze of his breaths tickling your hair and his fingers occasionally kneading and rubbing at your skin, almost as if in reminder of what had just happened.

And sure, there were things that should probably be said, but you were at peace with the unspoken feelings in the air for now. 

Unspoken, that is, until Jake shyly, sleepily, and whisper-quietly, mumbled into your neck.

“Hey…”

“Mm?” you hummed in response.

“I fucking love you.”

You smiled, bright and giddy and completely and utterly in love with him. “I love you, too,” you breathed back, quiet and tender, feeling the movement of his cheek muscles as he beamed into your hair, nuzzling you sweetly.

-------- ⭐︎☽⭐︎☾⭐︎ --------

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[delilahluvsu]

oh, its what you do to me pt.1

chris x reader (delilah)

warnings: cursing, suggestive but no actual smut (yet), mentions of death and grief

a/n: this is my first story. It might be a little rough but I hope you enjoy!!! ; no requests

characters- matt sturniolo, chris sturniolo, nick sturniolo, delilah moore, aria moore

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When I was 16 and my sister was 13, both our parents died in a car accident. It was the hardest day of my entire life. Immediately, the sturniolo family took us in and we have been living with them ever since.

the sturniolos have always been close family friends of ours and often, my family would go over to their house for dinner, or just to hang out as one big family.

I guess I would say that I'm close with Matt and Nick but I'm definitely closest with Chris. We have the most in common, and we overall just clicked the best from the beginning.

On that day, December 4, 2019, my life completely changed. I got the call from my sister and my heart immediately sank to the floor. I broke down sobbing before rushing to the scene and falling into my sisters arms. We held each other and mourned the loss of our parents who had raised us and given us such a wonderful life.

When the sturniolo family had found out about what had happened they got to the scene as fast as they could and reassured me and my sister that everything was going to be okay. I had always looked at Mary-lou like a second mother; someone I could always count on to treat me like one of her own children and love me as she loves them too.

They took both me and my sister in right away. I remember that night, we were sobbing in the triplets arms. I’ll never forget it. They planned the funeral and paid for everything since all the money I have is from my job and I don’t have a lot, and my sister doesn’t have a job.

Ever since, the triplets and their family have done so much for me and my sister and i’m so grateful for them.

-jump to a year later-

my room is in the same hallway as all three triplets and my sister. i wake up from a good ass nap and I realize that it’s 7 PM. “ugh” i groan, annoyed that I had just wasted the day. I guess Chris heard me from the hallway because he knocked on my door while cracking it open. “you good?” he says confused. “yeah i just took a long ass nap and i didn’t mean to” “damn sorry bout that” chris says with a smirk and closes your door. i roll over and sigh and i decided to gather myself and not be lazy for the whole day. I make myself get out of bed and wash my face and I put on a little make up just to look presentable.

I put on a hoodie and grey sweatpants and i just threw my hair into a messy bun because i don’t feel like doing my hair since it’s later in the day and im lazy. As soon as i walk out the door i bump into chris who was seemingly about to open my door. “sorry” i say with a giggle. “you’re good delilah, i was just wondering if you wanted to come watch a movie with me, matt, nick, and aria?” “sure” i say with a smile. “let me grab my blanket real quick” “okay” chris says as he heads downstairs.

The boys are all sat on the couch with the movie “the conjuring” queued on the tv. my sister races down the stairs and plops down on the couch next to matt and nick. i look at the screen and say “really” with a confused tone. they all laugh. they know i’m a big baby when it comes to horror movies. “you’ll be fine, delilah” nick says “its just a movie”. “yeah its stupid, and don't worry, if you get scared you can just hide under the blanket" Chris says. "like a little baby" Chris says softly but just loud enough so nick, matt, and aria could hear and we all start dying laughing. Chris motions me over to him. He is sitting on the bigger part of the couch with more room. In my opinion, it's the comfiest part of the couch so I'm glad he picked it. I sit on the couch next to him while putting my blanket over both of us. The blanket is huge so it covers us nicely and keeps us warm. A few feet away from us are Nick, aria, and matt are all snuggled under a cozy blanket. I look at them and smile. They're so adorable, I think to myself.

The movie starts and my back and neck start to hurt so I search for a more comfortable position. Chris notices "what's up?" he says softly so no one could hear but me. "oh, nothing my back and neck are just killing me" I say with my hand rubbing the back of my neck. "okay, do whatever you need to make yourself comfortable" Chris says with a smile. "okay" I say while smiling back. I am closer with Chris than I am with matt and nick so it is not unfamiliar for us to be physical in a platonic way (of course). I put my head on Chris' chest and shift my body sideways a little. Chris looks down at me and tucks my hair behind my ears before looking back up at the movie.

All of a sudden there's a jump scare and I hide under the blanket. Chris starts laughing and so do matt and nick. "it's okay D, nothings going to hurt you" Chris says with a reassuring tone. "I know" I say with a tinge of heat flooding my cheeks from embarrassment. We continue watching the movie and when the movie is over, all of us go upstairs. The triplets and my sister say goodnight to me and we all head to our rooms.

I suddenly wake up when I hear footsteps heading downstairs and I check my phone. It's 3:20 AM. I put on my slippers and I walk downstairs to see who it is. It's Chris. standing in the kitchen, shirtless. the moonlight from the window shining onto his body. he looks gorgeous and I am taken aback by the sight that is in front of my eyes. he's popping open a Pepsi can. After he takes a sip he turns around and looks at me. I'm standing in the doorway looking at him in a way I never thought I would before. "hey" Chris says. "what are you doing up?" "I heard footsteps and I was just checking to see what was going on" I say as I walk over to the fridge and I take out cranberry juice. "oh okay" Chris says. "what's that look on your face for" chris says playfully. "its nothing" I say while blushing and trembling a little bit from this newfound feeling I never imagined feeling for Chris. "okay" chris says, not believing that its nothing. "why are you drinking a Pepsi at 3 AM chris, thats crazy" I say while giggling while I snatch the Pepsi can out of his hands and run downstairs with it. He runs after me and we're both giggling like idiots. I squeal as he catches up to me and wraps his arms around me pushing us both on the couch in attempt to steal his Pepsi back. "nuh uh" i say, struggling to keep him from grabbing the Pepsi. Suddenly he flips me around while he grabs his Pepsi from my hands and he pins me on the couch while taunting me with the Pepsi he just stole back from me. "hey!" I say feeling defeated but still giggling. Chris says "don't ever do that again" while laughing. suddenly my heart starts beating faster. He still has me pinned to the couch. We're looking into each others eyes and I feel that feeling once more. I start to feel heat in between my legs because I don't know why but him pinning me down like that made butterflies fill my stomach and wish he would never move. But he did. He slowly moved off of me. "seriously if you ever do that again, Delilah" "I promise, never" I taunt him while thinking to myself that I will definitely do that again sometime without a doubt. we both head back to the kitchen and then back up to our rooms.

As I lay in bed, I can't help but think about that feeling that I felt when I was with Chris today. It's new and scary and I've never felt that way about Chris before. The triplets and I had always been really close but never have I ever had thoughts like this for any of them until now. I think about the way Chris tucked my hair behind my ear, the way he reassured me that nothing was going to hurt me during the movie, the way he looked while the moonlight shone on his shirtless body and his perfect hair, the way he pinned me down and looked into my eyes and the way that it made me wet. it. made. me. wet. Chris sturniolo made me wet. My mind travels and I wonder if Chris is thinking about me right now, about the moments we shared today that gave me that feeling. that familiar yet so unfamiliar feeling. I wonder if he felt that feeling too. I find myself fantasizing over if he were to come into my room right now and do unspeakable things to me, but I quickly catch myself. "what the fuck??" I snap myself out of the trance "no no no this can't happen" "never" I say to myself while rolling my eyes and sighing with disgust. I roll over in defeat and I doze off to sleep.

I thought sleeping it off would help, but my dream is about chris.....

-------

stay tuned for part 2..

[fraidy-farfelle]

"You're Not Alone."

CW: Parenthood, babies, Vincent being a cute dad

Notes: female afab reader, established relationship, marriage, for the sake of clarity I’m giving your twin sons names, but obviously feel free to change them! Also: I did not make this edit, if someone knows the artist plz let me know to credit them.

As always, constructive criticism is welcome, but please be gentle as I do cry. Idk if I'm gonna write more for the Sinclairs but if you want to be added to the taglist feel free to rb or pm me!

‘This is thoughts.’

“This is speaking”

“This is Vincent signing”

You awoke with a start, sitting straight up. As your eyes adjusted, you saw you were tucked into bed. ‘This is not where I fell asleep.’ You thought to yourself, yawning and stretching your arms. The afternoon sunlight trickled in through the curtains, and you realized you had been asleep for a while. 

Your oldest twin boy, James, had woken you as the sun rose. You remembered feeding and soothing him as you sat on the couch, not wanting to bother your husband or his brother if he cried again. So, how did you get here? Your eyes settled on the pair of cribs to the side of the room. They were empty. “Where are they?!” You exclaimed and threw the covers off of yourself in a bout of maternal panic. 

Running through the house, the bedrooms, kitchen and living room were all vacant. Trying not to panic, you took a deep breath. There was only one place left to look. You carefully made your way down the stairs to Vincent’s workshop in the basement. As you descended, you heard his radio softly playing classical music. You turned the corner and breathed a sigh of relief. 

Contently working away in this sketchbook was your handsome Vincent. He was shirtless with his hair tied into a messy bun. (the twins liked to pull on his long soft hair.) James was tied to his chest with a baby wrap while Andrew was in a basket on his workbench, both sleeping soundly. You shook your head at yourself. Of course there was no reason to panic. 

Vincent turned his head, picking up your footsteps over the quiet music. You were only mildly surprised to see his face, as he’d read about the Still Face experiment and was doing his best to overcome his insecurity to be the best father he could be. He gave you a gentle smile as you approached him and kissed his scarred cheek. “That skin to skin contact stuff is no joke, huh?” You said softly, gazing at your son’s sleeping face. Vincent nodded and cupped your chin delicately, pulling you in for a proper kiss.

“Did you have a good rest, love?” He signed, tilting his head. “Yes. You didn’t have to carry me to bed, you know.” He shrugged. “I didn’t mind. I slept through James crying, it’s the least I could do.” You huffed and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. “I’m glad he didn’t wake you up. Hopefully he didn’t wake Bo up, either.” You said, resting your cheek on his head. He made a noise of indignation. “The lazy bastard was still snoring when I went to find you. Don’t worry about him.” He felt your shoulders shake with a silent laugh at his words. “You were the picture of beauty this morning, you know.” “Aren’t I always?” You teased. He snorted softly and tapped his sketchbook with his index finger. 

Looking at the page he indicated, you saw a sketch that was undeniably you and James. He captured the way he had found you on the couch that morning. You were lying on your back, with your baby asleep on your chest. You had apparently fallen asleep before you had put your breast back in your nightshirt from feeding him. James’s head was resting on the exposed side of your chest, curled in on himself adorably. Both of you had sleepy smiles on your face. 

“It’s like you took a picture. I’m really glad you’re the one that found me and not one of your brothers.” You said. “Me too. Saved me some ass kicking.” You could tell he was joking and squeezed him gently. “How long have they been asleep?” “Not long. Fed them and they conked out.” You smiled. You felt so blessed to have a husband like Vincent. “You know, next time you shouldn’t let me sleep so long. I’m their mom, it’s my job to take care of them.” “And I’m their father. You created two human beings cell by cell. That’s more incredible than any art I could ever make. You’re entitled to a break when you need it.” 

You bit your lip. “I know, but I just-“ Vincent sighed and tugged you around to sit on his lap. He put your hand on Andrew’s head and his own on James’s back. “We made these masterpieces together. We’ll care for them together. Their uncles love them, and will help us when we need it. Whatever happens, you’re not alone.” Tears began to fall from your eyes, and you gave a watery smile. Vincent smiled back at you and rested his forehead on yours. “I… love… you!” He startled you by speaking, the gravely, strained timbre bringing a blush to your cheeks. “I love you too!”

Taglist: @rottent33th

[farfromstrange]

Foreigner's God Preview (S.M.S)

Chapter is titled: As It Was

This is exactly what the headline here says. Soft morning sex. SMS. It's just a snippet of a very long chapter with more angst than smut this time, but it all leads to a "happy" end.

18+ MINORS DNI

[…]

Matt, still drowsy from sleep, rubbed his hand up and down her sides, feeling her hot skin under her clothes and the remaining hickeys he had left. 

Pressing back into him, her suspicions were proven right. 

“Good morning,” she slurred, bucking her hips into his. “Someone’s excited to see me.”

He pressed lazy kisses on her exposed neck, moving the collar of the dress shirt aside to gain access to her shoulder blade. He met the movement of her hips, his cock nuzzling into the curve of her ass. 

“‘m sorry,” he said. “You just kept wriggling in your sleep and I didn’t want to wake you by moving away ‘cause you were so peaceful.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, Matty.”

She reached behind herself, placing a hand on his erection and Matt hissed. She gently rubbed a finger over the small patch of pre-cum that stained his sweatpants. 

“Next time,” she told him, “Just do what you gotta do.”

“What?”

He moaned when she crossed the border of his waistband and wrapped a hand around his hard cock. 

“Are you telling me I can fuck you in your sleep?” he asked. The prospect made him twitch, her cold hand rubbing up and down his shaft, and her thumb circling his tip again. “Fuck,” he met her strokes, “You’re so good at that. Keep going.”

In return, his arm traveled around her front and he slipped his hand into her panties. He wasn’t surprised to find her soaked already. With a soft chuckle, he found her clit with his fingers and started rubbing circles. She gasped, hips grinding into him from behind. This half-assed version of foreplay was doing it for her, and it wasn’t all too different with him. 

“You have my consent to do whatever you want, even when I’m asleep,” she said. He parted her puffy folds and inserted one of his thick fingers, curling it up into her tight walls, massaging them to stretch her out and massage her g-spot for some more added pleasure. 

She grabbed the sheets with the hand that wasn’t stroking his cock, her movements getting sloppier. He completely knocked her off her game. 

“So I can just…” Matt pulled her panties aside to reveal the rest of her cunt to him. “Do that?” His thumb met her clit as he continued fingering her. 

She whimpered, “Uh-huh.”

“And this?” 

He added another finger. With her legs pressed together, she was impossibly tight. He dared to scissor them and she cried out, biting down on the pillow under her head. “Fuck, Matthew,” she moaned. “That feels so good.”

“Spread your leg over mine,” he instructed. 

She leaned back enough to do as she was told and he used to newfound space to plunge his digits into her cunt. Her nails found his forearm and she dug them in as hard as she could. The intense pleasure had him bite down on her shoulder. 

“Don’t you dare stop stroking my cock.”

She wouldn’t dare, although focusing on him got a little harder with the way he made her feel. She exhaled loudly, picking up the pace. Her thumb dragged along his slit, causing him to whimper softly into her ear.

“That’s it, good girl.”

His fingers curled up. 

“So wet for me already.”

She threw her head back into his shoulder and he used that to capture her lips with his. They didn’t care much about morning breath, it didn’t matter anyway. 

Suddenly, her hand was rudely forced away and she whined loudly in disapproval when his fingers slipped out of her. 

He shushed her, gently stroking her hair to the side enough so he could gain more excess to her skin. The dress shirt fell open and he tossed it aside, joining the still not cleaned up clothes pile on the floor. “I’m gonna make you feel so much better,” he said.

[...]

(Matt Murdock liked this post)

And we get to see more of a character I actually quite like... (more under the cut)

DRUMROLL!

Wait for it...

Now!

Sister Maggie to the rescue. Literally. And I experimented with her story a little. Put my own twist to it. Can't wait for you to read it. Friday at 12 am European time. You're welcome!

[raplinesmoon]

the edge of anything (KSJ x F!reader)

pairing: ex-boxer!Seokjin x lawyer!reader (from On The Ropes)

genre(s): fluff, slight angst

au(s): established relationship

word count: 2.5k

warnings: insecurities, lots of emotions

rating: pg (the OTR universe is 18+ in general)

summary: Seokjin feels prepared to tumble off the edge of anything with you. All he has to do is take the most important step.

a/n: our babies are getting married! this was so spontaneous (can u tell by the lazy banner), but I missed them so so much. this is a shoutout to the person who recently called OTR their comfort fic, that means more to me than you can ever know <3

Your soft hums disappear behind the door as you slip on your shoes, and Seokjin is left alone in the corridor. He hadn’t been this nervous since his last bout, yet somehow staring down the glove of a menacing opponent paled in comparison to the task he’d laid out for himself tonight.

“___, hurry up, we’re going to be late,” Seokjin tries not to choke on the words, hoping you don’t notice the waver in his voice. He glances around nervously, every chip in the paint and scuff on the floors evident to his hyperaware senses. His breath comes out in short, shallow gasps, tapering into an easy rhythm when he hears the door click behind him, your soft footsteps echoing behind him before they come to a stop.

“Oh!” a soft gasp escapes from behind him, and he feels a bead of sweat trickle down his back.

“We need to go back,” you call out to him, and he hopes you don’t see the way his fists clench. “I forgot something.”

Turning around, he nearly stumbles when he catches sight of you in your dress, the shiny fabric somehow luminescent even in the dingy lighting of the apartment complex. You give him a small smile, and all at once, his worries ease when he catches your flushed expression at the smirk he sends back.

His hand comes up to rest on your back, leading the two of you the short distance back to the apartment door, and you fumble with the lock, Seokjin’s warm breath tickling the back of your neck, relieved when it finally rattles open. 

Stepping into the entryway, Seokjin’s warm eyes meet yours, concern etched in his brows, wondering what could have been so important you had to go back. 

The edge of your lips twist up in a grin, barely able to contain yourself at his serious expression, and you finally decide to put him out of his misery.

Stepping closer to him, you reach for the hair at the back of his neck, running your fingers through the strands that have grown longer recently, and you feel him shudder at your soft touch.

“___,” Seokjin’s voice is gravelly, and his eyes bore into yours, love etched in their depths.

“I didn’t get a goodbye kiss from my handsome boyfriend,” you pout against his lips, pecking them gently, and all at once, the tension in his shoulders eases.

“We’re going to the same place,” he chuckles, but indulges you anyway, tucking a strand of hair back from where it’s fallen out of place, before tugging you against him, his lips slotting against yours hungrily.

Its moments like these where he wishes he could remain forever in your embrace, exchanging soft touches and whispered words of love. But tonight, Seokjin had something more important to do.

The nerves that had been previously quelled by your gentle kiss before leaving have returned in full force as Seokjin grips the steering wheel, unable to think about anything but the buzzing of his phone in his pocket. He knows Yoongi has probably sent him a dozen texts asking for an update, wondering if everything’s okay. 

It’s a force of habit for his friend, with Seokjin teetering on the brink of disaster for so many years. The messages are still frantic, but now the tone is completely different, Yoongi’s concern melting into the giddy anticipation of a high schooler overhearing all the class gossip at lunch, constantly asking him to divulge more. Seokjin can’t help but marvel how both nothing and everything have changed all at once.

The tiny box he carries in his suit pocket feels like a lead weight, and Seokjin’s mind drifts back to a few weeks ago, to the conversation that changed everything.

Shifting uncomfortably in the chair, Seokjin can’t help but remark how cold the marble tiles of your parents’ home feel against his feet. He’d never come here on his own before. Despite how long it’d been since you started dating, it was always easier for him to lean on you for comfort, your bubbly personality more than willing to fill the awkward silence that sometimes resulted between him and your mother and father.

They were kind people, but it was obvious that the world you grew up in was vastly different from the one you and Seokjin both shared. The conversations were always polite, and sometimes it felt like he was grasping at straws, searching for something, or anything that would help him relate to them, yet constantly feeling like he came up short. After every visit, you’d reassure him with a thousand tiny kisses to his face, telling him he had nothing to worry about, that he needed to stop getting in his head about things. 

It doesn’t matter if they don’t approve of you, even though they do, you’d say. All that matters is that I do.

Except now he sits here, fidgeting with his palms, wondering if that approval would be enough for them. The fifteen minutes of small talk had been excruciating, Seokjin just wishing for the ball to drop and for them to snap, so he could go home and nurse his broken heart in peace.

“Please have some tea,” your mother says softly, smiling as she pours it into his cup. Seokjin thinks he might drop the expensive china if he were to pick it up, but does so anyway, hoping they can’t see the way his hands shake as the hot liquid burns his throat.

“What brings you here?” Your father wastes no time. “Not that we aren’t happy to have you, Seokjin, but your visit is unexpected to say the least.”

Seokjin sucks in a deep breath, and conjures up a silent prayer. It was now or never.

“I-, uh, uhm,” he fumbles with his words. “___ is a woman…”

He mentally groans at the opening, their curious eyes looking him over, and he notices how your mother has shifted to the edge of her seat, her eyebrows lighting up in excitement. It’s what gives him the courage to push on despite your father’s neutral stare.

“I know this might be hard for you to hear, given what happened with ___’s last engagement and I apologize if it is,” a flash of guilt courses through him, but he can’t give up now. “But I’d like to marry your daughter. I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, a lot of them that I’m not proud of, but she’s never been one of them. I love her as much now as I did before, and I’ll continue to love her for the rest of our lives. I hope you’re okay with that.”

He chokes on the last statement, willing himself to keep the tears at bay, throat burning in shame at his unsophisticated delivery. This probably paled in comparison to the fireworks and rainbows of Jungkook’s proposal all those years ago, but he’d laid his heart out on the line. And he’d do it for you every single time.

“Son,” Seokjin jolts up at the term of endearment coming from your father’s deep voice, and he can’t stop the tear that escapes. “The past is in the past. We can’t go back and change what happened, but we don’t want to.”

Your mother picks up from him, and Seokjin’s heart flutters rapidly in his chest.

“What ____’s father means to say is that we know. We know how much you love our daughter, we can see it every time you look at her. You know, I’d always dream that ___ would grow up to live in a fairytale, with everything unfolding magically for her when it came to finding someone and getting married. I realize now that was silly to wish for. Life isn’t like the stories we used to tell her at bedtime. After seeing only tears, feeling only sadness from her for so long, I’m glad that she found you. You call it a mistake, but I disagree. You make her the happiest she’s ever been.”

“We’d be honored to accept you into our family,” your father finishes, and Seokjin’s heart is on the verge of bursting out of his chest, sobs wracking his body as he feels your parents embrace him, their love and acceptance sealing the cracks of his formerly fractured heart.

“Thank you,” he cries, unable to stop smiling through his tears. “Thank you so much. I’ll make you proud.”

The memory follows him all the way to the fancy restaurant he’d booked, the valet knocking against the window jolting him from his daydreaming, demanding the keys. Handing them over, Seokjin feels out of his element again, looking over at you wiggling your eyebrows at the inside, a far cry from the hole in the wall ramyeon and tteokbokki stands you were both used to.

Stepping inside, Seokjin nervously gives his name to the hostess, wondering if she can see through the facade he’s elaborately constructed, but she ushers them along. 

. . .

You pick at the minuscule amount of food, ignoring the way your stomach grumbles as Seokjin goes on animatedly about Haneul. Something’s up. Normally the two of you are more than content to chow down in silence, groaning contentedly over filling your bellies with food. But tonight, things are different.

A frantic energy surrounds him, as he’s unable to go five seconds without saying something, and you can’t help but think that it’s because he has bad news he wants to tell you. Frowning, you purse your lips, and wonder what it could be. Everything had been going well with his job, his brother was going to have another baby soon.  

You hate that your mind immediately goes to the worst, thinking he’d finally decided he wasn’t able to do it anymore, and wanted to let you down easy. Even after so many instances where you reassured him that you loved him, that you wanted him, the nagging doubt in your mind always told you back that maybe he didn’t want you. You were damaged goods, another man’s former fiancée. Many nights had been spent with you bolting awake from your nightmares sobbing that one day he’d do the same thing you did to Jungkook, and just leave.

But he’d stayed. He’d stayed and given you himself, and the two of you had taken your broken selves and built a happy life together, one full of so much laughter and love. Despite those infrequent moments where the bad feelings crept in, nothing made you want to let go of that. 

Chastising yourself for your silly meltdown, you look over to see Seokjin shifting uncomfortably in his chair, trying to usher over the waiter for something, and your heart drops. Whatever it was, this wasn’t the place to talk about it. 

“Yeonin,” you whisper, reaching for his hand. “The food here sucks ass. Why don’t we go?”

A laugh bubbles from his throat as he nods his agreement, and you trace over his knuckles with your thumb. Whatever it was, you thought, it’d be okay. The two of you had weathered through worse.

Teeth chattering as the wind whips around you, you feel Seokjin’s arm slip around your shoulders, pulling you into his warm side. The choice to stop by the river for a walk had been an impulsive one, but you knew if anything could calm both of your running thoughts, it’d be the soft splashing of the gentle waves. 

“Jagiya as much as I love seeing you in this dress, I don’t want you to freeze to death,” he quips, slipping his coat off his shoulders to cover you. You smile at the reference back to the first time you’d met here, and snuggle into the cosy fabric, breathing in the warm, clean, scent that had become like home to you.

You feel Seokjin’s gaze from the side, and he turns to offer you a hand, the two of you traipsing clumsily along the riverside, caught up in a goofy dance. By the time you finish swaying, you’re more than a little dizzy from being spun around, your insides hurting from laughing so hard, and your cheeks are flushed with warmth.

Pulling him with you to the water’s edge, the two of you plop down, limbs slipping through the railing, and watch the lights twinkle along the dark surface.

. . .

Seokjin had fumbled tremendously, the glitzy restaurant proposal now in shambles, all because of your keen eye. Gazing out onto the riverfront with your head resting on his shoulder, he doesn’t understand how it had all felt so wrong, the weeks of planning and endless amounts of cash he’d put into making your fairytale come true. It looked like he and Yoongi would have to go back to the drawing board.

“Seokjin?” you call out to him, and he looks at you, curled up in his coat. The cold was worth seeing you in his clothes, a reminder that ring or no ring, you were his. Maybe there was no rush to do this after all.

“I love you,” you say softly and his chest swells with affection at your frost-bitten nose and tiny sniffles.

“Marry me,” he blurts out before he can stop himself, and feels you freeze in his arms.

“What?” your voice wavers, and you look up at him, eyes widened in disbelief. 

“I want us to get married,” he says, more confidently now. “I want us to keep building our life together as husband and wife. And before I talk myself out of it this time, I want to let you know that despite everything we’ve been through, loving you has and will always be the easiest choice I’ve ever had to make, and I want to keep making it for a long time.”

“I–,I thought you were gonna tell me something horrible, and you do this??” you sob, speechless as he reaches into his pocket, opening up a small box to reveal a cluster of gems you knew well - your mother’s ring. Seokjin grows nervous, watching you choke and stumble over your response, unable to do anything but throw your arms around him and sob into his shoulder for five minutes straight.

“Uh, jagiya, is that a yes? Because I have other reasons too you know. Like your last name is super long, I could give you mine instead, it’s shorter – hmph!”

He’s cut off by you pressing your lips to his, your cold hands wrapping around his neck and pulling him towards you, your flurry of kisses breathless and wild as you give him a dazzling smile.

“Yes.”

Seokjin slips the ring onto your finger unceremoniously, marveling at how it looks like it belonged there the entire time, while the two of you chatter on endlessly for hours until the sun rises. You squeeze his hand when he tells you about your parents’ reaction, your heart filling with warmth at their acceptance.

When the two of you stumble sleepily back to the car, Seokjin can’t help but feel like things have finally clicked into place, your jagged edges finally fitting into one complete whole. 

a/n pt. 2: i really wanted to write something fluffy and cute for them, they’re my favorites!! i hope this can bring everyone comfort. As always, any feedback or comments are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi 💜

[lynnswritings]

Last Kiss

Eddie Munson x GN!Reader

A/N: This was an idea that I've had for a while now, but never found the right time to write it... here it is after a week of sitting blank! I almost cried while writing this so have fun? I guess.

Word Count (With Lyrics): 2.4k

Warnings: Angst, tw Depression(?) possibly, Lots of tears, let me know if I missed anything

I still remember the look on your face Lit through the darkness at 1:58 The words that you whispered for just us to know You told me you loved me So why did you go away? Away

It was a cold winter night, you had stayed the night at Eddie’s while your dad was out of town for a few weeks. You couldn’t sleep, rolling over to glance at the digital clock sitting on Eddie’s bedside table. The clock read 1:58 AM in bright red numbers. Feeling you shifting around, Eddie woke, quietly mumbling, “What’re ya doin’ sweetheart?”

“Sorry, couldn’t sleep,” you whispered back.

“D’ya wanna talk ‘bout it?” Eddie was still half asleep, but he’d do anything if it would make you feel better.

You gently shook your head, “Not really, go back to sleep baby,” you said as you lightly traced his face.

He closed his eyes, “M’kay, I love you sweetheart. You know that, right?”

You couldn’t hold back your giggle, “Yeah, Eds, I know. I love you too.”

You snuggled in close, tucking your head underneath Eddie’s chin, the weight of his arms securing you against his body.

I do recall now, the smell of the rain Fresh on the pavement I ran off the plane That July ninth, the beat of your heart It jumps through your shirt I can still feel your arms

It had been almost a year since you had been in Hawkins, going out of state for college wasn’t something you really agreed with, but with the deaths and disappearances over the last few years your dad didn’t give you a choice. It was raining when the plane landed, you couldn’t wait any longer and rushed to get your things and off the plane, almost running to baggage claim when you saw him. 

His signature black ripped jeans, long shaggy hair, and ring clad fingers. Without hesitation you launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he squeezed your waist.

The two of you were pressed against each other to the point where you could feel his heartbeat through his shirt. You thought you felt it skip a beat as he spoke, “I missed you like crazy,” he pulled away just enough to look in your eyes, his arms holding you in place, “You’re not allowed to leave for that long ever again. Understand? I don’t care what your dad says.”

You nodded, a giant smile on your face as you said, “Don’t worry, I won’t let him.”

Eddie gave you another squeeze before letting you go so you could collect your things, hoping that this summer would be a lazy one with your friends and family.

But now I'll go Sit on the floor, wearing your clothes All that I know is I don't know How to be something you miss

You were sitting on your bedroom floor at your dad's house, still not sure if you were in a terrible nightmare, or if this was your new reality. You were wearing Eddie’s Hellfire shirt, curled up in a ball, head tucked into your knees as tears continuously streamed down your face with no signs of stopping anytime soon.

I never thought we'd have a last kiss Never imagined we'd end like this Your name, forever the name on my lips

Eddie was laying on the ground, blood covering his neck and torso as you ran to him, not sure what you were going to see. You slowed your pace as you approached. Kneeling, you placed Eddie’s head in your lap.

“E-Eddie?” You could feel the sting of tears as they welled up in your eyes, you took in the sight of Eddie.

“(Y/N)?” His eyes slowly trailed to you.

“Hey,” you sniffled, “Hey baby, we’re gonna getcha outta here, okay?”

You could hear him struggle as he choked out: “Okay,” after a pause he continued, “I didn’t run away this time right?”

Tears were leaving streaks down your face, washing away the dirt and grime of the Upside Down, as you whispered, “No, you didn’t run away.”

His breaths were getting shallow, you didn’t know how much longer he had left, but it wouldn’t be enough, “Good. ‘Cause I’m actually gonna graduate. I think it’s finally my year. We can go wherever we want sweetheart.”

You nodded, tears falling from your face onto Eddie’s. You leaned down, scrunching your eyes closed as you softly pressed your lips to his. Not wanting to forget even a single detail of him.

You whispered a final, “I love you Eds,” as his eyes became unfocused and glassy. You felt the moment that his body went limp, a strangled “NO!” echoing around you.

I do remember the swing of your step The life of the party, you're showing off again And I'd roll my eyes and then you'd pull me in I'm not much for dancing, but for you, I did Because I love your handshake, meeting my father I love how you walk with your hands in your pockets How you'd kiss me when I was in the middle of saying something There's not a day I don't miss those rude interruptions

Somehow you had convinced Eddie to go to this party with you. You wanted to go to catch up with friends when Eddie decided to become the main event. He was doing business selling weed to whoever was desperate enough and making a scene by being his overdramatic self. 

That’s when you felt a tug on your arm, “Come and dance with me sweetheart,” the smile on his face was infectious. You rolled your eyes as he led you through a few dances, pulling you closer with every move, the music and atmosphere getting to you. 

Eddie had met your father only once, as you walked into the house you announced your presence. Your dad was taller than Eddie, which must’ve intimidated him from the look that the metalhead gave you. He masked his fear and stuck his hand out, “It’s nice to meet you sir, I’m Eddie Munson, (Y/N)’s boyfriend.”

Your father took Eddie’s hand, “Well, it’s finally nice to put a face to the name. (Y/N) won’t stop talking about you.”

Eddie laughed, “Only good things I hope.”

You were waiting for Eddie to meet you at the picnic table in the woods behind the football field. You heard a noise like a stick being snapped in half, when you looked up, you saw Eddie walking with his head down and hands in the pockets of his jeans. As he approached, you stood, meeting him halfway.

“Hey handsome, why do you look so mopey today? Y’know I thought me coming here would be a gre-”

You were cut off by Eddie placing his lips on yours, a gentle thing that ended as soon as it began. “I hate when you do that. You do know that, right?” You interrogated.

He just smiled, “Yeah, but I can’t help it. You’re just too beautiful, sweetheart.”

And I'll go Sit on the floor, wearing your clothes All that I know is I don't know How to be something you miss

You were still curled up wearing Eddie’s shirt as memories, good and bad, played through your mind like a greatest hits reel. There’s no way that he was gone, he couldn't be. He hadn’t even graduated, let alone got the chance to get away from lazy little Hawkins. There was so much you wanted to do with him, that you can’t do with him. The shirt still smelled like him.

I never thought we'd have a last kiss I never imagined we'd end like this Your name, forever the name on my lips

You didn’t know how long you sat there in the Upside Down for. You couldn’t let go of Eddie’s body. You continued sobbing, cradling Eddie as your tears spilled onto his bandana that was wrapped around his head.

You sniffled, “Eddie? Eddie, come back. Please. Please come back. I ca-can’t do this without you. Please, Eddie, I love you.” You kissed the top of his head, then his temple, his cheek, until you reached his lips, letting your lips linger on his, hoping that it could somehow bring him back to life.

You tried to clean the blood off of his face, “I’ll never forget you, never,” you couldn’t tell if the promise was for him or for yourself, but you still believed it. As long as you lived you would always remember Edward Wayne Munson. Even if no one else would.

So I'll watch your life in pictures like I used to watch you sleep And I feel you forget me like I used to feel you breathe And I'll keep up with our old friends Just to ask them how you are Hope it's nice where you are And I hope the sun shines and it's a beautiful day And something reminds you, you wish you had stayed You can plan for a change in the weather and time But I never planned on you changing your mind

You had found a stack of polaroids of you and Eddie that you had saved over the years together. Most of them weren’t that good, either out of focus or not framed quite right, but they were yours. They were the memories that you would never part with. The only thing you had left to remind you of what Eddie looked like before everything went to hell in a handbasket. Before he was accused of murder, before he ran, before any of this supernatural Upside Down nonsense was even on your radar.

Even with the pictures it was getting harder and harder to remember him, his voice: Was it deeper? Was there a certain lilt to it? Did ‘sweetheart’ actually sound like that? You couldn’t remember. 

His hands: Were they really that warm? Did the rings he wore go on certain fingers? It all felt like it was slipping away.

You still talked to the Hellfire Club, especially Dustin, Mike, and Lucas. The three boys who actually dealt with the Upside Down, that knew about all of the dangers. Because they were also grieving the loss of their friend Max, but at least she was in the hospital. There was actually a body if she didn’t make it. To prove that it actually happened.

Steve and Robin were who you talked to the most though. Having classes with them yourself, and them in turn having classes with Eddie. They were around for most of his antics and outbursts over the years. It was hard on them, even though they weren’t very close with the metalhead, it still hurt. Maybe not as much as it hurt you, but they tried to be understanding.

The only thing you could hope for was that he was somewhere better, maybe he was partying with some rockstars he had admired. You knew that had to be better than Hawkins. The sun hidden behind clouds as the town was split into quarters, the Upside Down merging with regular old Hawkins. Vecna was still on the loose, there were too many loose ends, too much pain and suffering. 

You still couldn’t believe what he had done, sacrificing himself for a town that labeled him a freak and a monster. A town that went on a manhunt for him over a false accusation. 

Every time you close your eyes that moment repeats: You and Dustin had made it back through the gate, both of you encouraging Eddie to climb back through. He reached for the spear, cut the sheets that connected both sides and ran back through the door of the trailer in the Upside Down.

So, I'll go Sit on the floor, wearing your clothes All that I know is I don't know How to be something you miss

The Hellfire shirt still smelled like him; like cigarettes, his cheap cologne, and something that was as unique as Eddie himself. You still sat there, unable to move from your place on the floor, staring at pictures from a life you can’t get back. He was gone, and there was nothing you could’ve done to prepare yourself for this. 

The ache in your chest wasn’t what hurt the most. It was the fact that you wouldn’t get any more time; no more late night talks, no more dances, no more Eddie. And you didn’t know if there was any way to emotionally recover from the what ifs and loss.

I never thought we'd have a last kiss Never imagined we'd end like this Your name, forever the name on my lips

Numbness. That was all you could feel as you sat there, running your fingers through his hair, his head still in your lap. The tears on your face had dried, leaving streaks down your face. That’s when they found you; Steve, Nancy, and Robin were on their way back from the Creel House when they stumbled upon you hunched over Eddie’s lifeless body.

Steve was the one to speak up, “(Y/N)... we have to go, Vecna won. He got Max.”

You shook your head, “No, I’m not leaving him here. Eddie deserves a proper burial,” you whispered, “Don’t make me leave him here. Please Steve.”

He sighed, “We have to go,” Steve attempted to grab your arm and move you away from Eddie’s body.

You ducked and tucked yourself closer to Eddie as tears started running down your face once again. After a few minutes of arguing with Steve he gave in, “Fine, say your goodbyes, then we’re leaving… and we’re not lugging him with us.”

The girls and Steve gave you space to make your final goodbye to the boy who would always have your heart. “I have to go now, Eds but I love you, okay?” you took a shaky breath, “No matter what, I will always love you.” You leaned down pressing one last tender kiss to his forehead which had started to lose color, looking paler than he had before.

You got up, turning to get one last glimpse of the boy who had died for a town that hated him. Who died and took your heart with him.

Just like our last kiss Forever the name on my lips Forever the name on my lips Just like our last

[19thsentry-blog]

New Beat

Miraculous Ladybug Fanfic (Companion Story to Worlds Not Our Own, Friendship Fic)

Chapters

In The Shadows | Chp 1 | Chp 2 | Chp 3 | Chp 4 | Chp 5 | Chp 6 | Chp 7 | Chp 8 | Chp 9 |  Epilogue | Timeline

Chapter Four: Freedom (AO3 Link)  

Chapter Snapshot

Chat Noir's face split into another grin. It seemed to be an infectious reaction. "Nah, I don't own the color. What'd you do for her?" he asked.

Black Eagle slapped Chat on the back, slightly pushing him towards the intersection. "Come see." He led him out into the street to the green storefront with the curtains, and Black Eagle raised his eyebrows at the name of it but didn't comment on it. Instead, he pointed just inside the window. Chat peeked around Eagle's shoulder and could see the red-haired girl on a little stage, several people in folding chairs in front of her--it looked like she was reciting something, although he couldn't hear her from outside.

"It's a poetry club," Eagle said, tilting his head as he watched her with golden brown eyes. "Had a little bout of nerves. Just needed a confidence boost, is all." He stood up straight, brushing his hands off at a job well done. "Doesn't look like she needs me anymore, though. Got that shit on lock."

Chat Noir stepped back from the window, turning to the man next to him. If Marinette had known there was some other hero out and around Paris, she definitely would have told him about it--and since she hadn't, that meant this was something that only he knew about.

Adrien sat on his mattress, staring at his mother's photography. She didn't have a very discerning eye--she took pictures of anything and everything--but the framing was always interesting, and it was nice to see what she thought was worthy of her notice. One was a close-up picture of Amélie, just a profile of her nose and mouth, her platinum hair a curtain behind her face. She had a foxy smile on her face, one he knew better than he knew his own, because it was one of the things she and Félix shared. There was another, just a picture of a hole in a leaf, the slightly brown edges crisp in the lens of her camera where the rest of the leaf was spring green and bright. The last one he had pulled out was one of Nathalie's reflection in a mirror. He could see his mother laughing in the background while the more austere woman looked horrified at being caught with her hair down in an oversized plain T-shirt. 

Adrien grabbed all three and pinned them up on his wall with the photo hanger he bought at IKEA, and it felt like a fresh start, even though he moved out weeks ago. "What do you think?" he asked Plagg, turning to him with a proud lilt on his lips. 

Plagg came up to the wall and returned to the bed to shuffle through the rest with his paws. "Very good, I'm sure, but I think you missed the best of the bunch," he said, pushing everything away except for the picture he wanted to look at.

Adrien smirked, grabbing it off the bed. "Why am I not surprised? I think you need to branch out some, you know--it's good for you." Adrien pinned up the baby picture of him and Félix regardless. The two of them throwing fistfuls of cut-up spaghetti at each other was fuzzy in the image; the real focus was a wedge of cheese in the foreground. 

"Doing what you like is also good for you," Plagg said defensively, whiskers up and proud. 

"I'm still working on that, I guess." 

"That's why you have me to help you along," the little black cat said, landing on his shoulder.

Adrien gave him a scratch behind the ears. "Should we get going, then?" 

It was rare that Plagg looked eager to transform when there wasn't any trouble afoot and he was in a lazy mood (which was often), but tonight it was clear just how excited he was. Not that he'd say it out loud, but Adrien could see it in his eyes, green and light and mischievous. 

Kam wasn't home, so he didn't even have to worry about anyone seeing or hearing him transform, and in the blink of an eye, he was back in black and slinking out the window. Single and ready to mingle, he thought to himself with a grin, launching himself from his windowsill and flipping (just because he could) before he extended his staff and shot into the air. Becoming Chat Noir again felt good--he couldn't deny that. There had always been a distinct sense of confidence when he was a superhero, because it felt like freedom. He could be anything, anyone, and when he was Chat Noir, he felt as real to himself as he could get. 

But that had been before. These days, being Chat Noir instantly brought back memories of fighting his father. 

Even though the nightmare for Paris was over, it was still rampant in his head; every fight, every harsh word...every thought that he couldn't imagine who would be hateful enough to cause so much suffering. It was a hell he couldn't escape from, not like everyone else could. Ladybug--Marinette--had her own baggage with being the Guardian, and he'd always hoped she would share it with him. Now he was staring at a suitcase full of his own, and he wasn't sure how to carry it around. 

One day at a time, Chat Noir reminded himself. He launched through the air onto a rooftop, taking a moment to stare into the bright lights of Paris, the looming Eiffel Tower in the distance, and the hundreds and hundreds of people. He was one of them as much as he wasn't. Miraculouses were given out to make the world better, but as often as he'd saved them, he was starting to think it was really the other way around. He spent so much time recently wondering what his life would be without Ladybug in it that he hadn't stopped to consider what his life would look like if he'd never been given the Miraculous in the first place.

Would he have frozen in that house? Would he have just done whatever his father wanted forever, only rejoicing in the small moments of rebellion or connection he could get? 

Chat shook his head, extending his staff again to keep moving, keeping an eye out for any trouble. There wasn't any, but he did help a girl with pigtails and glitter jelly shoes find her mom again, although she'd only been a block away. It was still good to get out and get all the cobwebs out of his head. He was free to do what he wanted. He was free to be who he wanted (it felt a lot like a double-edged sword). 

Chat Noir kept moving through the city and soon found himself at a busy cross street. Five-story buildings stood up all around it, shops on the lower levels and apartments with slightly crooked window shutters above them. Narrow streets held lines of parked cars along the dirty sidewalks, plants and benches and cheery, colorful flags lining the storefront windows. One shop was painted a deep green, with yellow velvet curtains pulled back in the windows to reveal a cozy light coming from inside. 

He realized, staring at the sign above the front door, that it was named Au Chat Noir--and he felt that same kick of awkwardness in him as when he would see himself modeling on a billboard. Maybe he was being egotistical; it wasn't like his alter ego was all that unique…

A girl inside the shop noticed him, her smile lighting up as she moved toward the window to get a better look at him. Chat Noir waved but kept moving down the street on the rooftops, jumping the gap in the road to the next roof. A few storefronts away was a worn pizzeria with graffiti on the side of the building and several round tables and chairs. Two people were outside, a man and a woman. 

Chat perched on the rooftop, staring down below into the darkness--it was bright enough with all the lights that his night vision wasn't kicking in. One of them was a girl, clothed in a baggy yellow sweater, her red hair curly and frizzy all down her back. She worried a piece of paper in her hand, biting her lip and pacing lines in front of the tables. 

"There's no way I can do this," she said, more of a cry than anything. "God, this was such a stupid idea--I should have brought a second one just in case--"  

"Nah, no way." The man's voice was deep and reassuring. He was sitting at one of the tables, legs sprawled in front of him. "You've got this. You're proud of it, right?" 

The girl almost seemed to cave in on herself, but she nodded. 

"Then no sweat. I know it's scary, but it came from the heart. Passion resonates with people, and it sounds like you've got plenty of it." 

Chat Noir slid a bit to the right, trying to catch a better glimpse of the man talking. He was wearing a long black coat, feathers lining the collar, and on the back was an hourglass shape painted in white. The dark skin of his face was framed around his eyes with a white mask, a sharp yellow stripe along the bottom rim. He stood up, patting his palms on his thighs with a wide smile on his face.

"You just need a little help working up your courage, yeah?" 

She nodded ravenously now. "Please. I'm gonna barf. Or pass out. Or, uh, cry--maybe not in that order." 

He laughed, a genuinely happy sound. "Alright, we got this," he said, and a brilliant gold feather appeared in the palm of his hand. It floated to her chest, disappearing in a spark and flash, and her lips parted with a little "oh!" when she felt it. 

"Better?" he asked.

"Yeah--yeah, I think I've got this." She said, a slow smile spreading on her face--but then she gripped his coat sleeve, panic back on her face. "What if I trip? Does this help me not trip?" 

"Uh, it's more of a brain thing than a feet thing. But it's better than alcohol, which is still plan B--"

"Oh my god--"

"Just think you won't trip, and you'll be fine," he said, chuckling. He spun the girl around by her shoulders, her patchwork skirt flowing around her ankles, and started gently pushing her out of the alleyway. "Go get 'em, champ." 

Chat watched the girl jump up and down when the man's hands left her back to try to hype herself up, and then she ran-walked down the street, pausing at the same intersection Chat had been overlooking just moments ago. 

"So, Paris's top cat hungry, or does Tweety Bird here get off easy tonight?" 

Chat Noir nearly jumped out of his skin--the man had been watching him when he was distracted, and now he was smiling up at him with his hands on his hips. Chat grinned back. He wasn't sure who he was, but from the looks of things, he wasn't a bad guy. He took his staff off his back and extended it with a quick flick of his wrist so that he could slide down it into the alleyway. 

"Just a specter tonight, but I'll let you know if I get peckish. I've never seen you around," Chat Noir said, landing on his feet lightly.

The man nodded to himself, a smile still on his face. Beneath the jacket, Chat could see his shirt was white, the ends yellow where the white triangle ended. A talon was looped around his neck with a black cord. "Just pulled in a few weeks ago. They called me Black Eagle back home on account of, you know," he spun around, his black coat snapping around his ankles, the edges lined in red triangles. "But I don't want to step on any toes." 

Chat Noir's face split into another grin. It seemed to be an infectious reaction. "Nah, I don't own the color. What'd you do for her?" he asked. 

Black Eagle slapped Chat on the back, slightly pushing him towards the intersection. "Come see." He led him out into the street to the green storefront with the curtains, and Black Eagle raised his eyebrows at the name of it but didn't comment on it. Instead, he pointed just inside the window. Chat peeked around Eagle's shoulder and could see the red-haired girl on a little stage, several people in folding chairs in front of her--it looked like she was reciting something, although he couldn't hear her from outside. 

"It's a poetry club," Eagle said, tilting his head as he watched her with golden brown eyes. "Had a little bout of nerves. Just needed a confidence boost, is all." He stood up straight, brushing his hands off at a job well done. "Doesn't look like she needs me anymore, though. Got that shit on lock." 

Chat Noir stepped back from the window, turning to the man next to him. If Marinette had known there was some other hero out and around Paris, she definitely would have told him about it--and since she hadn't, that meant this was something that only he knew about. There was a certain "ah HAH!" thrill to that, but he wasn't looking to rub it in her face, not at all. 

...It did feel nice to be on the other end of it for once. 

"You want to hang out for a bit?" Chat asked. "I wanted to stay out for another hour or so anyway. I can show you around some." 

Black Eagle didn't hesitate, just swept his arm out in front of him towards the rest of the city. "Lead the way, my man." 

What started with easy banter and a slow circuit of the seventh arrondissement ended with a race to see who could get to the top of the Eiffel Tower first (because, well, they were dudes, and that's just what you did when you were a guy with superpowers, and there was no threat to fight, Chat supposed). Neither of them got very far up, though, because Eagle spotted a smoothie cart and quickly aborted mission. Fifteen minutes and an orange and blackberry smoothie later, they were dangling their legs over the Arc de Triomphe, watching the cars and scooters and pedestrians as they navigated the spider web of streets beneath them. 

"So, where's Red? I was under the impression you two traveled as a pair," Black Eagle said, slurping on the straw poking out of his plastic cup. Chat must've made a face because Eagle didn't give him a chance to answer. "Tch, you too, huh? Shit, these French women will cut you up." 

Chat Noir felt his face flush slightly, that same tightness in his throat coming back. "We weren't actually, y'know, together or anything--" 

"Yeah, that's why your face was pulling a full-on Tabitha. You twitched so hard you almost fell off just now."  

An over-exaggeration, but not by much. "She's got a boyfriend." 

"That sucks." 

"Yeah." They sat in quiet for a bit longer, a moment of silence for his gone-to-soon love life, until he couldn't take the quiet anymore. "Are you like us? You know, with a Miraculous?" 

Black Eagle nodded, mouth full of smoothie. 

"We didn't realize there were any other ones out there," Chat said. They'd known about the Snake and Mouse Miraculouses and had assumed someone had them before Luka came to Paris. But maybe there were others, people with miraculouses they'd never heard of. 

He shrugged with a devil-may-care smile. "It hasn't left the reservation in a damn long time, tell you that much. I'm half Lakota--my friend, she had it for a while. Passed it off to me when she felt the time was right, and here I am." 

He'd never heard of the Lakota, but given the accent of his French, he assumed he had to be from North America. Maybe it was one of the native tribes--that felt like it fit. "There's not a whole lot going on these days, but it's nice to meet you all the same. You should see Ladybug at some point, though. She'd wanna meet you." 

"What is this, the mafia?" 

Chat laughed. "No, but she's the Guardian of the Miracle Box, where all the other Miraculouses are stored. She likes to know these sorts of things." 

"Yeah, sure, man. She gonna cut me up like she did you?" 

Chat Noir stood up, wiping the condensation from his smoothie cup off his hands before grabbing it around the top of the lid. "I don't think she could cut anyone up like she did me." He couldn't help the resigned sigh that escaped his lips. 

"Funny enough, that doesn't make me feel a whole lot better."

He grinned. "Yeah, me either." 

Black Eagle shook his head while he hopped to his feet, that infectious smile still on his face. It seemed like it was permanently stuck there unless something particularly odd happened, but he was all big expressions and laughs, wrapped up in one easy-going guy. Even when he was still, his eyes sparked with life and the simple joy of living it. "I'll see you later then," Eagle said, giving him a punch on the shoulder. "Totally would've won that race, though." 

"Forfeiting doesn't give you the right to brag," Chat shouted, his new friend already headed in the opposite direction with a wild cackle. 

Job done for the night, Chat Noir stopped by a trash can to dump his cup and then headed back home, feeling much better than he had the day before. It did mean he'd have to call Marinette and let her know what had happened, but maybe that was a good thing. It gave them something to talk about--something that would allow him to get to a new normal around her. 

Chat Noir made his way home to his new apartment, keeping his eyes open for the new window that would hopefully become commonplace to him. He almost missed it the first time, but his neighbors had a set of string lights shaped like flamingos around their bedroom window, making it easier to tell which was his, like a flight path at an airport. Chat landed on the thin window sill with a self-assured thud--and then frowned when he heard a second thud coming from the left.

He did a double take when he saw Black Eagle staring right back at him, one leg almost entirely through Kamdyn's bedroom window, his mouth open like he was calculating the odds of it all. 

"Uh…" 

"Huh." 

They stared at each other for a second longer, and Chat swore he could hear a cricket coming from the deserted park beneath their feet. Black Eagle looked around awkwardly, mouth half open with several aborted attempts to justify why he was standing halfway through the apartment window. Finally Eagle sighed, dropping his chin to his chest, but when he looked up, he was smiling again--this time a little bashful. "Want alfredo for dinner?" 

Chat nodded, not sure what else to say. "Yeah. That'd be good."

"A'right. I'm cooking--I can't trust you for shit in that kitchen." 

"That wasn't all my fault--" Chat started, but Kamdyn was already gone, laughter floating out the window. 

Worlds Not Our Own: Chapter Six, You’re Not Him

[ci3n]

IGNORING THEM AS A PRANK

characters: lucifer, mammon, asmodeus, beelzebub and belphegor

warnings: use of the term ‘darling’. not proofread.

a/n: i got too lazy to do the rest 😔

obey me masterlist

LUCIFER

most likely can tell it’s one of your little pranks

so he tries to ignore you back

but you ignoring him while giving everyone else attention bothered him to no end although he’d never admit it

so he resorts to stand in front of you and glare at you until you stop

“mc, are you done?”

“done with what?”

“ignoring me”

“i was not ignoring you”

“yes you were, now quit it and come here”

he’s not really fun when it comes to pranks like these

MAMMON

how dare you ignore the great mammon

another one who tries to ignore you back

“fine! ignore me, not like i care ‘bout ya anyway”

but it only lasts two minutes before he’s cuddling up to you, poking you with a pout on his face, asking you if he did something to make you ignore him

please tell him it’s a prank, he looks like he’s about to cry

“no no, it was a prank, i’m so sorry mammon” you wrap your arms around him as he nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck

“don’t do these pranks on me again, do ya understand?” he mumbles into your neck as you chuckle, running your hands through his hair.

"sorry love, i won't do it again"

ASMODEUS

over dramatic

he’s gasping, placing a hand on his heart when you don’t reply to him

tries to poke you and annoy you into talking to him but you don’t budge

even though he’s being dramatic he’s actually scared he did something to upset you

“i’m sorry if i did something to upset you my love, please talk to me”

“it was a prank asmo, you didn’t do anything, ‘m so sorry” you smile, pecking his lips as he lets out a sigh of relief

“you scared me darling, don’t ever do that again”

whines about how much you scared him

give him lots of kisses to shut him up please

BEELZEBUB

he thinks you’re just not in a good mood so he lets it slide when you don’t reply to him the first few times and leaves you alone

but get’s really worried when you don’t talk to him the whole day

tries to think about anything he did that might have upset you

he wants to give you space but he can only go so long without talking to you

so he goes to your room with some of your favourite snacks

“mc, i’m so sorry i upset you but please tell me how i can make up for it, i don’t like it when you ignore me”

“baby, you didn’t do anything, i was just doing it as a prank, i’m so sorry”

“that’s okay but don’t do it again, okay?” he smiles, gently wrapping his arms around you.

“i won’t, i promise”

BELPHEGOR

another one who can tell it’s a prank

he’ll ignore you back but unlike his brothers he actually can go through with it

i mean he’s sleeping most of the time so it’s easier for him

but wakes up cause he misses his human pillow

but you ignore him when he asks you to come nap with him

“stop your dumb lil prank and come nap with me”

“it’s not a prank and i have stuff to do”

“no you don’t”

drags you back to his room.

“you’re not going anywhere mc, you’re gonna make up for your stupid prank, understood?"

reblogs appreciated !!

[dokiyeom]

TOOTHPASTE KISSES . CHOI YEONJUN

moving in with yeonjun is with all honesty, one of the best decisions you have ever made. each morning, you’re greeted by the sight of him half conscious, with his hair tousled and eyes still squeezed shut as he gives you a sleepy smile.

“good morning sleeping beauty, did you get a good night’s sleep?” you laugh, reaching your hand out and brushing the splayed strands of hair from yeonjun’s face as he scrunches his nose in annoyance at the teasing nickname.

“nope, i got awful sleep thanks to your snoring actually. i had to keep waking up over and over again to nudge you until you stopped,” yeonjun retaliates, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips as you gasp and smack his arm with a little, “rude!”

“kidding, kidding babe. i only woke up once when i felt you snuggling up against my side like a koala,” yeonjun chuckles as his eyes slowly flutter open. he uses one hand to rub them a little and the other prods your neck, gesturing for you to allow him to slide his arm through to wrap around you, “you were all bunched up and hugging my shirt, you know?”

“choi yeonjun!” you groan, burying your face into his arm as he laughs, clearly amused as he prepares to retell your unconscious bout of clinginess in morbid detail with no spared details.

“it was very cute though, don’t worry.” yeonjun throws in, scooting closer to you as he presses a kiss to your forehead. he moves to kiss your lips, but you turn your head, causing him to frown.

“morning breath, remember? kiss me after we brush our teeth, but before that, no kisses on the lips please,” you turn back, smiling as you take your fingers and push the corners of yeonjun’s downturned lips up.

“fine,” he grumbles shifting his body over to the other side of the bed before flinging the covers off both of you, leaving you shivering from the sudden absence of cold.

“what the-“ you begin before being interrupted by yeonjun as he instantly appears by your side and scoops you up,

“come on, babe i want to kiss you, please,” he groans, leading you over to the bathroom as you comply, happily sinking into your boyfriend’s arms while he carries you.

once you kick the bathroom door open for yeonjun, he sets you upright, already reaching for the toothbrushes while you stand up. yeonjun squeezes a pea-sized dollop of toothpaste onto your toothbrush and his, eagerly shoving his into his mouth as he furiously scrubs his teeth pristine.

before you could even rinse your mouth with water, yeonjun’s hands sneak their way to your jaw as he presses his lips against yours, relishing the cool, minty kiss before he breaks contact.

your eyes widen in shock and accusation before you move to rid your mouth of the toothpaste. meanwhile, yeonjun laughs victoriously, eager as he waits for your to rinse your mouth before he could kiss you again.

“jun! why didn’t you wait for me to rinse my mouth?” you groan, closing the gap between the two of you as you lean in and bury your face in his chest. yeonjun merely chuckles as he envelopes you with his arms and rocks the two of you back and forth before taking a hand to life your face to meet his, “i’m sorry babe, i just couldn’t wait to kiss you,”

“i know,” you smile, craning your neck up as he dips his head down to kiss you again. you press your hands against his chest as you lift your toes up, allowing the kiss to last a few more seconds.

when the two of you pull away, you’re both left gazing into each other with softened dazed smiles, remaining connected as yeonjun’s stray arm finds itself back around and clasped around your upper body.

you press your chin against yeonjun’s chest as you look up, a gentle laugh escaping your nose while he tilts his head down to eye you and watch as you speak, “i feel like i should brush my teeth again after that,”

“babe!”

[spilledkauffie]

Bucky x Pregnant Reader

Just some funny & fluffy HCs (they’re kind of long, sorry!!)

*xFemale!Reader || Part 2 !

He’s super cautious about everything, if you want soup for dinner he makes sure it’s not too hot, if you want ice cream he lets it thaw just a little so it’s not too cold. When you asked him why he was sticking a thermometer in your coffee he simple said, “too much heat isn’t good for the baby, it could burn it,” as he stared at the meter, “uh-huh, and you do know we’re not in the 1940s anymore, right? We have a much better understanding of mom-baby connections,” you tilted your head, “Look I’m just being cautious, for you, okay?” It’s old fashioned, but it’s sweet.

He nearly has a heart attack when he sees you on a ladder, a step, the counter, or anything with heights. He will literally man handle you, grabbing you carefully by the waist or under your arms (yes, like a child in trouble) to bring you down from where you were, even if it isn’t actually that high. “It wasn’t even that high, babe,” you sigh, waiting for him to get your chips off the top of the fridge, “it’s not like I was climbing Mount Everest.” / “Close enough,” he shake his head at you with a sassy tone, still distraught over you just heaving yourself up onto the countertop.

Sam is always over! Though he doesn’t have kids, he has nephews he’s close with and thus has had some experience with babies and children. Often Bucky just rolls his eyes when Sam’s giving advice, but Sam comes back with “Oh, I’m sorry, who should she believe, a 106 year old who took vintage sex ed in 1900, or someone who was at the hospital with his sister, like eight years ago?” you had to laugh at the comment, but Bucky just ducked his head, “it was 1939…” / Sam is actually a big help for you, he said he’d try to get his sister up to visit with you and talk baby stuff next time the boys are on a mission so you’re not alone.

Sleeping, Bucky’s made it a habit of always going to sleep with his hand somewhere on your stomach, it’s mainly a protective thing, since before the baby he just had to have an arm around you, holding you. But now it has to be skin on skin contact, which means you’ll feel him slowly and softly slip his hand under your shirt when he comes to bed later than you. You’ve come to love it, often placing your hand on top of his.

↳ “lazy days” have become much more of a thing as you entered your third trimester, some days you just don’t want to get out of bed, and Bucky is completely fine with that, he’ll cook, he’ll bring you whatever you want, he’ll lie in bed with you.

You’ve gotten really concerned about the pregnancy and being a mom on a few occasions. Usually this results in some bouts of depression. In times like those, Bucky makes sure he is there physically and mentally for you. If you don’t want to talk about you, he lets you snuggle up as close and as tightly to him as you want. He understand silent suffering and how much just a physical person being there means. When you do want to talk about it, he’s always there and ready to listen.

One minor wince or groan or mumble from you and he’s on it with the “what’s wrong?” / “what is it?” / “how can I help? Is the baby coming?!” He’s mildly paranoid that he’s going to miss something vital or important if he isn’t 100% paying attention to every detail. This is why no you’ve never teased him about anything regarding the baby, because he’s so concerned and invested that it might just give him a heart attack… He is 106.

He was beyond panicked when you called him over, desperately reaching a hand out for him as he sat down next to you. Taking his hand, you press it to your side, and tell him to wait. Super confused if this is a good or bad moment he waits with an anxious look until- “did you feel that?” you smiled up at him; his jaw drops and spreads into a smile as he shifts closer to you in awe silence you both feel another kick, “wh- how did you do that?” he asks, stroking his free hand through your hair, as he bites the corner of his lip. Finding it precious you’re nearly crying from the happiness when he kisses your forehead.

He’s that guy that gets a book on “pregnancy for dummies,” so he can attempt to better understand what you’re going through that he can’t necessarily see. Needless to say part of the book horrified him, “oh my g- do you know what’s happening inside you?!” You just shake your head finding 10/10 entertainment in just watching his face whilst he reads it. The actual “how birth happens” chapter might’ve been one of the best.

He’s actually a little scared, or worried, about touching your baby bump (with a certain hand). You’ve told him you don’t mind that it’s cold, but he’s still avoidant. When asking him why, he didn’t want to say because he thought you might laugh, promising you wouldn’t he confessed, “what if the vibranium… magnetises the baby?” You managed to keep a straight face for approximately two seconds before breaking into laughter.

Your random (and very intense) moods are the biggest handful for him. He’s trying his very best to know what to do, but he never wants to make you feel like it’s not normal to feel a certain way.

↳ The Crying: one time he was telling you about this past mission he was on. It was like casual conversation for him to talk to you about it, but when he got to the part of “so they had these big dogs-” he looked over at you to find you in absolute tears, he stopped in his tracks, biting in his bottom lip as you stared at him, “and? then what?” you asked, voice breaking, he shook his head slowly, keeping eye contact, attempting to think of something, “then-” / “then you became best friends with the dogs and they were on your side in the fight?” he nodded dramatically to you response “yes, that’s exactly what- what happened… yep, nothing more to that story.” 

↳ constant State of Annoyed: at times you’re just purely annoyed for no reason, typically more passive aggressively, but sometimes you’re just straight up honest about it. When he tells you good morning and reminds you how beautiful and glowing you are, you’ve said “I love you, but your voice sounds like a duck today,” or “I am not glowing, be honest, I look and feel like a blimp.” He still tries his best to compliment you, other times he just hides for the day. Until you become super needy at night.

↳ MamaBear Instinct already kicking in: you’ve become extra protective / defensive. One time you were at the store, around one A.M. (because cravings!) and you were picking out cereals together. Bucky was surprised to see some brands he knew still around: “wow, Chex?” he picked up a box, “I didn’t know they were still making these-“ he trialed off about the cereal, but you noticed some kids snickering a few feet down the aisle. “Then again, the last time I had these they tasted like cardboard,” Bucky winced, “probably cause they were made out of it back then-“ / the kids laughed again, despite the soft Hello Kitty pj pants you had on, you were far from soft. “HEY!” You called out, “are you laughing at him?!” Bucky turned to see who you were talking to, but before he had time to address them himself, he was reaching to stop you from lunging over the cart at them, “I will fucking fight you if you are!” / “Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!” Bucky completely stepped to block you, lifting his hands to meet yours gently, but you just tried to push them out of the way still flustered.

[1kook]

crunchyroll & rail

the 10th installment of my netflix & chill series !

SUMMARY Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. WARNINGS smut in the forms of making out, jk nipple play, some 69 action, cunnilingus, blowjobs, brief choking, jk trying his best to listen to oc but he doesn’t rlly :/, fingering, missionary bc his eyes are pretty, unprotected fuckin raw, its romantic but when is it not… MISC fluffy and domestic <3, weekend getaway <3, the Big Question, shy jk, sailor moon supremacy, jk makes this big elaborate speech about the sun and moon, mentions of 240p YouTube quality, RATING m (18+) WC 8.7k

NOTE (!) the smut in this chapter is relatively short ! I was more concerned with writing this monumental step in their relationship, so sorry to all the lads who come here specifically for the p0rn but today we focus on the l0ve <333 anyway nc 10!!!!! Can u fuckin believe….

Jungkook mentions it at the dinner table one night. You’re not eating— well, you are not eating; Jungkook has been stocking up on his protein intake like a madman —but finishing up some work you had brought home. Your back aches, your eyes burn. The mere sound of his soft voice has all those feel-good endorphins shooting through your nervous system like a shot of adrenaline. “We should take a trip,” he says, fork clattering against his plate to signify the end of his feast. 

Your fingers tap across your keyboard, eyes flickering between an Excel sheet and the report you’re typing out. It takes you a moment to respond, a delayed, “huh,” that even Jungkook doesn’t find convincing.  

In the background, you’re listening to what has to be one of the worst voiceovers of the original Sailor Moon series in a language you don’t even understand. But you know the series like the back of your hand, know what exactly is happening even if you don’t understand what they’re saying, because you’ve watched it only about a million times. It’s mostly just there for background purposes anyway, some white noise to try and replicate the noisy soundtrack of your office. 

To make matters worse—complicated?—, you had been too lazy to get onto your usual pirating sites and had settled for the five minute, five part, 240p clips of Sailor Moon on YouTube (you know the ones), and Jungkook has to wait until Episode 74: Part ⅖ ends before you grace him with a proper response. “Where do you wanna go, baby?” you ask, giving your eyes a break from the data as you move to scour YouTube for Episode 74: Part 3/5. 

He’s stretching back now, arms wound up above his head. His hair— god, his hair —is an ashy color now, a faded version of its golden ancestor from a few months ago. Soon, he’s planning on going back to brown, claims he’s getting too old to be dying his hair, whatever that means. For now, you watch his inked fingers run through his scalp; he looks delectable. Maybe you’re hungrier than you initially thought. Or at least thirstier. “A cabin,” he suggests, and he offers this little half shrug that would otherwise seem normal had you not been well-versed in the art of Jungkook Body Language. His front teeth nibble at his lip, eyes laser focused on his empty plate. Even now, he still gets nervous asking you out. That thought alone makes your ego soar as high as an airplane. “Just something small.”

Usually, “something small” with Jungkook ends up being something big and, in most cases, something expensive. Which you’re totally not opposed to— you’re at the point in your relationship where you don’t even bother trying to dissuade Jungkook from showering you with gifts. It’s one of his many, many, many, many forms of loving you and, well, he knows you like the back of his hand. He rarely misses. 

Lo and behold, it is a grander affair than a simple cabin. “Well, it’s more like a resort,” he confesses, reaching across the table for your hand. Immediately, his thumb finds itself rubbing over the simple band of your promise ring. “Just wanna do something nice for you. I know you’ve been tired lately,” he adds on, voice a quiet murmur that nearly gets lost under the intensity of the pout that appears whenever he becomes even the slightest bit bashful. 

You smile, the fondness in your heart skyrocketing to impossible heights when he lifts your hand to press those pretty petal lips against your knuckles. “Well, just let me know when,” you tell Jungkook. “So I can request time off from work.” 

Episode 74: Part 3/5 starts playing after an ad, and you’d pause it for the sake of preserving this moment with Jungkook, but it’s hidden under so many tabs on your laptop that you lose it the second you leave the tab. Jungkook’s head tilts to the side, sending his ashy locks cascading beautifully. “You know that show is on Crunchyroll,” Jungkook says, seemingly moving past his bout of shyness now. “And you have the password.” 

“Do I,” you murmur, but he’s lost you once more, your true talent of typing with one hand showing itself as you return to your Excel sheet, the other still firmly squeezed in his grasp. Jungkook releases soon enough anyway, cleans up the table quickly, and disappears off into the kitchen. He sings when he washes the dishes, likes to pretend he’s a terrible singer even though you’ve told him countless times he could easily take X Factor by storm. (And you know exactly what it takes to wow those judges— you spent the entire last month psychotically watching multiple X Factor seasons from multiple different countries, nearly considered joining the damn audition yourself.) The horribly dubbed Sailor Moon is yelling now, shrieking really, and Jungkook calls from the kitchen, “don’t forget to take your contacts out, sweetheart.” 

It’s domestic and it's nerve-wracking. 

You want Jungkook, that much is a fact. Aristotle and Socrates and that other guy could debate the philosophical intricacies of the world, turn this dimension in on itself until it was a scrambled mess of emotion and thought, but the one thing they could never change, could never even question, is your love for your boyfriend. You want Jungkook badly, but more importantly, you want Jungkook forever. 

And you’re sure Jungkook probably, maybe, hopefully feels that way too. But the way you feel is… slightly concerning to say the least. For starters, you’re convinced your love for Jungkook was meant to be, and that’s saying a lot coming from you. You’re not one for cheesy, soulmate tales— that was more Jungkook’s thing —but the more you think about it, the more you become convinced that you and Jungkook were destined to meet. Like the planets aligned one year, the stars conferred, a tectonic plate somewhere in California shifted; whatever it may have been, something happened somewhere that led to the birth of this beautiful romance of yours. 

Lately, being with Jungkook has this inexplicably fiery feeling blossoming in your chest, these waves of emotion that sometimes have you fantasizing about the weirdest of scenarios with him. Like yelling at him for not taking the garbage out on time, or bumping into each other as you make dinner in the kitchen, or buying a new rug together. 

(Most drastically, the other day, you had a dream where you were pregnant and Jungkook was there and there was a house and a dog and an annoyingly friendly neighbor and this god-awful tile in the bathroom.) 

Long story short, you’ve been fantasizing about a forever with Jungkook. The concerning part is the timing; was this too early? You’re nearly halfway through your second year with Jungkook now, and you know most people date for many, many years before the mere thought of union even occurs to them. In another life, maybe you were the same, would have held off until the very last moment. But with Jungkook things just feel right (at least for you), like there wasn’t going to be anyone else after him. And you sincerely hoped there wouldn’t be. 

You slump back into your seat, eyes fluttering shut. Too many thoughts swirl around your mind, and the screech of the Sailor Moon voiceover on screen certainly doesn’t help. How you managed to spiral that far down your thoughts in the span of one 240p, five minute clip of a larger episode amazes even you. To add onto your worries, the clip abruptly ends and Episode 74: Part ⅘ is nowhere in sight, a fact that draws a frustrated moan out of the already sensitive you. 

Luckily, Jungkook eventually returns, standing closely behind you. His presence is enormous, the room suddenly overflowing with a shit ton of those feel-good endorphins all over again, except this time they reach an all-time high when he leans over and quietly shuts your laptop. “Come sleep,” he says softly, and it’s a pleasant mixture of his genuinely caring voice and that horndog purr of his that lures you into bed. And it’s that same voice that croons softly into your ear, fingers nestled between your folds until you’re orgasming yourself into a deep slumber. 

Much to no one’s surprise, the cabin turns out to be quite the luxurious lodging; two floors of dark oak everywhere you turn, a stunning stone fireplace in the bedroom, and a truly breathtaking view of the resort’s snowy hill (read: front row seats to watch all the snowboarders and skiers wipe out in the snow). Jungkook had splurged quite the pretty penny on it, so you make a point to clap it up for him when he first opens the door to your temporary home for the weekend. 

The main bedroom is beyond words. It’s got an attached balcony (that you doubt you’ll be using in this chilly weather), and a wooden canopy bed that makes you feel like a royal (that you will certainly be using). It’s separated into two areas, the bed space and a tiny entertainment area on the other side of the room. Perhaps the best thing about the room— and the cabin itself —is the huge, smart TV mounted above said stone fireplace and the fact it allows the phone mirroring option in lieu of not having any streaming sites. And as is with every and anything to do with televisions, Jungkook is the most excited of the two of you. “Baby, look,” he beams, pointing excitedly at whatever he’s got mirrored onto the television this time. Knowing him, it’s probably another documentary. 

You had the forethought to finish your work before the trip, spent two days in the office going absolutely ham on this month’s final reports until your department head promptly sent you home to finish the rest there. You had given yourself a fright upon entering the bathroom that night, the state of your under eyes so severe, you feared it was sufficient cause for a national emergency. Similarly, Jungkook had done the same with his work, cooped himself up in his study until he was free from the shackles of capitalism for the weekend. All this to say you’ve missed him these past few days. 

But even though you’re sorely malnourished in the affection department and craving a good kiss or two, you wouldn’t dare interrupt one of Jungkook’s little nerdy, tech-induced fanboy moments. They’re cute, in their own geeky way, providing some insight to a mellower side of your boyfriend who looks on with childlike wonder; Jungkook’s eyes always get so big when he talks about nerdy stuff. You get to work hanging up the silk shirt he packed for tomorrow night’s fancy dinner at the resort, listening to some British narrator’s detailed description of the functionally extinct Northern white rhinos living under 24-hour surveillance in Kenya.  

(Jungkook’s really into nature documentaries again, had spent a few nights sniffling as he watched that one Koko the gorilla film.) 

The original plan was to head to the nearest store and whip up something small to eat at the cabin. But Jungkook is a little tired from the long drive, slumps down into the couch in front of the now lit fireplace like a limbless blob as he tunes into his documentary. His nose is a little red from the outside chill. It’s so cute. He’s so cute. You love him so much, you fear you’ll accidentally squeeze his cheeks to death. It’s a thought that occurs more times than you’d like. 

According to the pamphlet on the nightstand, the resort has its own room-service to order from. Normally you would do that, but not this time; you had gotten into a bit of a squabble with the man at the front desk after he had tried to withhold Jungkook’s reservation for arriving two minutes past your check-in time, called each other all sorts of names before he backed down and gave you your room key. So you’re still a little salty, to say the least. Instead, you settle in for some pizza in front of the huge TV, calling up the nearest place to order some of Jungkook’s and your favorites. 

You plop down beside him, instinctively cuddling closer when he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “So,” you start, flipping through the rest of the resort’s introductory pamphlet. There’s a loud roar on screen. In all honesty, you didn’t even know what Northern white rhinos sounded like until then, and you probably never would have if not for the man beside you. “What are you in the mood for tonight, sweet boy?” 

You’re not sure if it’s the fatigue or the overall relaxed vibes he’d been exuding since the moment you entered the cabin, but Jungkook is weirdly cooperative today. “Whatever you want,” he responds, head on your shoulder. He even places the remote in your hands, gives your enclosed fist a gentle tap as if he’s just handed you the secret to eternal youth. In other words, it’s a rare sight to behold. “This is your trip, pretty girl.” 

You appreciate the sentiment, but feel the need to clear the air, tucking your feet up onto the couch as you snuggle closer. “Our trip,” you clarify, and snatch the remote anyway before he changes his mind. 

Jungkook releases a quiet huff of laughter, head rolling back against the couch cushions to display his thick, juicy neck that definitely doesn’t awaken any vampiric tendencies in you. “We can even watch some anime if you want,” he murmurs, casually throwing an arm around your shoulders in a way that would have made any teenage girl in the early 2000s squeal with excitement. It’s one of those barely there touches, but the way he holds you makes you feel so safe and warm and loved. So loved and in love. “The ones on Crunchyroll, though.”

For the sake of preserving these good vibes (and your ears [and Jungkook’s sanity]), you navigate to the Crunchyroll app on your phone, quickly finding your latest obsession and mirroring it onto the big television before Jungkook can react. “Sailor Moon?” he asks with a tone that implies a feigned interest, mostly out of respect for you; he’s, sadly, still not the big dorky anime fan you had hoped to convert him into. 

“In the name of the moon, I’ll punish you,” you recite dutifully, snatching up the throw blanket on the end of the couch. It’s barely big enough to cover the both of you, has Jungkook’s outstretched legs and your booty subject to the chilly air. Who cares, Jungkook is a furnace anyway. 

He snorts. “Punish me,” he mumbles, as if he doesn’t believe it. His snarky comment wins him a playful pinch against his doughy cheek, not that he particularly defends himself against it anyway, eyes fluttering shut as you tug at the pale skin. 

“Don’t fuck with the moon, Jungkook,” you warn him, snuggling closely against his side as your favorite opening song begins filtering through the speakers of the television before you. It’s infinitely better than the 240p YouTube clips you had subjected yourself to the entire last week, the graphics scarily clear. 

“Right, of course,” Jungkook says, but a hint of amusement seems to curl around the sound anyway. Nevertheless, he lets it go, cuddles into your side as you pour your full focus into watching yet another group of ragtag teenagers with supernatural abilities kick some ass. 

You can tell Jungkook isn’t really into it, and you’re torn between just snuggling him into a well deserved nap or taping his eyelids open so he can become a fan of this show with you. 

The loving, caring, adoring side of you says Jungkook deserves the entire world and more (the more in question preferably being a fluffy blanket and a nap). He worked hard this week, just like you, and on top of that he was the one who planned this entire weekend getaway for the two of you to enjoy. You want him to rest up.

The obnoxiously in love girlfriend-slash-best friend in you says Jungkook is sorely missing out on one of the greatest shows on planet Earth and that naps are for the weak. 

Your jumbled thoughts are interrupted by a loud sound on the television, a yelp from Ms. Sailor Moon herself that has you jolting up in surprise. Jungkook welcomes you deeper into his embrace, chuckles at your little fright. “Scared?” he teases in that low voice that makes you feel like you’re going crazy, really. So crazy and irrational, and the only thing that stops you from bombarding him with an unexpected outpouring of love is that hard and sharp thing that pokes your side when you get too close to him. It’s not Jungkook, sadly, but something in the front pocket of his hoodie instead. 

And for some reason, part of your brain is stuck all of a sudden, rewinding the last two and a half years like a broken cassette tape that had the tape reel hastily stuffed back inside by a toddler. It’s choppy to say the least, and it certainly doesn’t help when Jungkook calls your name softly, tenderly. “__,” he murmurs. It’s a little weird; it’s not often he says your name, mostly referring to you with one of the many pet names from that part of his vocabulary that focuses exclusively on terms of endearment. Your heart skips a beat. 

Now, if anyone were to ask, it’s approximately around this time that you begin to spiral. The pink curve of his bottom lip is just too close, the mole on his nose too prominent. Paired with the obnoxious tittering of Usagi on screen, you can feel your thoughts begin to overlap, bumping into each other within the realm of your brain until all that comes out are the messiest of messy thoughts. 

They go like this: 

Most episodes of any anime run for approximately thirty minutes. Take out the commercial breaks, the opening and ending credits, and it becomes something closer to twenty. Twenty minutes per episode, filled with plot and gags and tears and whatever else necessary to make you feel something, anything really. 

“What’s in your pocket?” you ask tentatively. 

In contrast, it takes approximately two seconds for Jungkook’s lips to quirk up— first the right side, always the right side —and his eyes to crinkle. Two seconds for him to smile, a sweet expression that reminds you of Netflix and college and quiet laughter and tattoos and silly YouTube videos and cookies and cell phones and job applications and blond hair; two seconds to make you feel everything all at once. 

“There’s nothing,” he says, but his cheeks are pink, and it’s not from the cold anymore. His smile is so big it makes your own cheeks ache just looking at it. You can’t even hear the television anymore. Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. “It was supposed to be for tomorrow,” he admits, unwrapping his arm from around you. 

It’s a little funny, somehow, because his hands are covered in ink, in tiny doodles and intricate pieces of swirls and words that ooze this aura of strength and toughness. But they tremble when he opens it, as unsteady as a wispy dandelion on a windy day, fumbling with the box. And when you look closely, he’s been biting at the skin along his thumb again, that nervous habit you’ve been trying forever to help him overcome. 

Someone is saying something on screen, something important to the plot. The volume is loud, but not as loud as your heart. Not as loud as Jungkook’s quiet murmur when he speaks again. “Will you marry me?” he asks softly, looks at you with flushed cheeks and big eyes and his heart on his sleeve. 

The answer has always been the same, hasn’t changed since the first time he planted the seed in your mind. Still, it catches in your throat, nearly loses out to a surprised and emotional sob that you barely manage to bite down. You had just been speaking, had just been ready to deliver a whole spiel on the importance of him watching Sailor Moon with you. But when you try now, it’s raspy and dry, as if you haven’t used your voice in years. “I— yes,” you exhale, surprised by the lonely tear that trails down your cheek. You go to wipe it away, but Jungkook beats you with a gentle hand cupping your cheek. 

His smile is wobbly, patches of red blossoming across his face that eventually consume his entire appearance as he leans his forehead against yours. Only then do you realize he’s crying, and you laugh out of reflex. “You’re crying,” you say, and Jungkook snorts. 

“You cried first,” he sniffles, smiling. “You made me cry.” 

He looks like a wreck, but, like, a hot wreck. An engaged, hot wreck who’s eyes flicker back to the TV to remind you to pause your anime, always so considerate. You do, hastily smashing buttons on the remote before remembering it’s controlled by your phone, hands flying back and forth as your nerves actively work to retire themselves after Jungkook’s proposal. “Easy there,” he soothes, eventually catching your hand in his, drawing it up for a kiss against your knuckles. 

The ring fits perfectly, snuggly. Vaguely, a memory drifts through your thoughts of Jungkook and Doyeon on a rampant mission to reorganize your jewelry box a few months ago, but it disappears as quickly as it came. You’re taken by the ring, a simple band with a pretty diamond on top. It’s a good mixture of you and him; flashy yet mild. 

“You love me,” you marvel, a revelation you’ve had the honor of experiencing time and time again with Jungkook. Still, it never fails to render you speechless. He hums. 

“I do,” he says, taking your hand in his. “It’s the easiest thing for me. Like breathing, or existing. I think I was made to love you.” And normally, you’d be the first one to correct him. Jungkook was made for so much more, a fact he’s proven time and time again with his abilities and the sheer size of his heart. He was your golden boy, could do anything he set his mind to. Always amazing you, always making you fall in love all over again. 

But now, with the weight of his words sitting heavy in the air, you find yourself incapable of negating the fact, instead sniffling at the meaning. 

Pleased with your silence, Jungkook places another chaste kiss against your ring. “I love you, __,” he confesses, voice nearly a whisper. Your entire body feels as if it is doused in gasoline, lit aflame over and over again. Your heart threatens your rib cage, pounds away with the strength of a world renowned boxer. Jungkook’s hands curl around your wrists carefully. “I used to think we were like the moon and the sun,” he admits, “that you were my sun and I was your moon. In love but always separated by those thin veils of the sunrise and the sunset.” He pauses, nuzzling sweetly against your palm once more before gently guiding them down between the two of you. “But that really sucks— saying goodbye to you every night? I hate that, __. I hate watching you leave, I hate watching you run off in the mornings or halfway through the day, having to drive back and forth from your place to mine. I hate having to be away from you when all I wanna do is hold you. I— I want to be by your side,” he rambles, eyes nervously meeting yours. They’re still glassy, dark lashes framing his chocolate irises wonderfully. “Forever.” 

Your heartbeat stutters, the simple word looping itself in your mind like that night in his dining room all over again, all the fantasies of having a forever with Jungkook bubbling to the surface. Jungkook pushes on. “You are my sun,” he says softly, mostly to himself. “But… I don’t wanna be the moon anymore. Being the moon means, eventually, I’ll have to say goodbye. In the night or in the morning, it always comes to an end. And I don't want there to be an end with you,” he insists, clutching your hand tightly. “I wanna be another star, the closest one to you. The one who gets to be with you forever. I wanna be by you and shine with you and—“

“Explode into a gazillion little fragments of cosmic dust with me,” you offer, and Jungkook nods along eagerly, too amped up on his speech to bother scolding you for your playful comment. 

“Yes, I want to— to—“ The words catch in his throat. So much emotion from the man you once thought was the dictionary definition of calm and collected. “To—“ 

“Marry me,” you fill in, and Jungkook practically blows a fuse from how emotionally fired up he’s become, exclaiming a resolute, “yes!” that leaves you stupidly grinning back at him. 

His outburst leaves him with flushed cheeks. “I do,” he reiterates in a softer tone, averting his gaze from you as if embarrassed by his cheesy outpouring of emotion. Usually, it’s the other way around; you make all the corny declarations of love and Jungkook laughs along suavely. It feels nice to have the tables turned. 

There’s so much to say, but the words all fade away when Jungkook shyly looks at you again. You settle on tackling him back onto the couch cushions, taking his surprised little yelp in stride as you suffocate him in your embrace. “Save those words for the big day, superstar,” you giggle, peppering his red face with tiny kisses that make him scrunch up cutely. “I can’t wait to blow up into one huge supernova with you.” 

Beneath you, Jungkook groans. “I’m sorry,” he huffs, voice muffled against your shoulder. Begrudgingly, his arms come up to envelope you, pulling you closer until the blanket scrunches up uncomfortably between you two. “That must’ve sounded so lame.” 

Leaning back so you’re not completely squishing him, you carefully push his silvery hair away from his forehead. “Don’t be,” you assure him, placing one chaste peck against his pouty lips. “I thought it was cute. I didn’t know you were into astrology.” 

A sigh. “Astronomy,” he corrects, “astrology has to do with zodiac signs and placements.” 

You run your thumbs over his cheeks, collecting any of the drying tears that paint his face. “Oh, like how you’re a Virgo and I’m a“— 

The TV remote you had lost somewhere along the way is suddenly rematerialized beneath your knee, sends the speakers blaring to life with a deafening screech that has both you and Jungkook leaping up like two frightened cats. “You always do this,” he laughs, that loud boyish sound that makes you feel like you’re sitting on a cloud. He watches you with a gentle smile as you hurriedly shut off the television, the remote haphazardly tossed somewhere behind you afterwards. You return to his embrace, wrap your arms around his waist and snuggle into his warmth. His heart thumps a steady rhythm beneath your ear. 

“You’re gonna be stuck with me forever,” you warn him, clutching at the fabric of his shirt like he’ll suddenly disintegrate before your eyes.

Above you, Jungkook hums, placing a kiss against the crown of your head. “I look forward to it,” he responds, pulling you impossibly closer, until you can feel the wrinkles in his shirt imprinting themselves against your cheek. He’s back to being that suave bastard again, and you find yourself wishing you had milked those big crocodile tears out of him for just a little bit longer. 

Fingers gently press against the muscles in your nape, push themselves in deeply until you can feel all the tension seeping out, turning you into a limbless blob over Jungkook. “Jeez,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut. “And you wanted to wait until tomorrow.”

He huffs out a laugh. “I just thought you’d rather get engaged at a fancy restaurant with a pretty dress,” he defends, and you can hear the grin on his face. “For the photos.”

“Fair point,” you concede, eventually pushing yourself up so you’re not entirely squishing your boyfriend beneath you. Jungkook is already looking at you when you lift your head, has got this funny double-chin from this angle that makes his normally sharp jawline disappear. You find yourself tapping a finger against his chin, on the chocolate chip mole that hides itself beneath his plump bottom lip. “If anything, just propose to me again tomorrow at the restaurant.”

It wins you an eye-roll. “I’m not gonna propose to you again tomorrow,” he laughs, doesn’t even push you away when you become annoying and start tapping your fingers against all his beauty marks like you’re playing Whack-a-Mole. 

“Booo,” you frown, but let it go soon enough, foregoing your little game to press your lips against his. “Then I better make this a night to remember,” you murmur, tilting your head to the side.

Your hands dip into his luscious locks, fingernails tracing thin lines along his scalp that are certain to send tingles down his spine. As predicted, Jungkook releases a quiet groan soon after, a sound that’s muffled against your own lips. He’s pliant tonight, but not in a way that would elude fatigue. Pliant in a way that suggests he wants you to take the reins tonight, exhaling softly against you as he parts his lips. 

“Let me take care of you,” you hum, the hand that had been mindlessly hovering along his cheek drifting down to caress the side of his neck. Jungkook nods, his irises swimming in lust. You smile at his silent compliance, give his throat a light squeeze that makes his breathing hitch in surprise. 

He’s always at his prettiest when he’s beneath you like this, limbs moving in slow motion as you guide him along. You can already feel the beginnings of his arousal stirring beneath the front of his sweats, his cock slowly making its presence known against your thigh. You press your lips against his once more, making sure to make it rougher than the first kiss. Your tongue is met with little resistance, slips past his lips and dips into the hot cave of his mouth where Jungkook releases another trembling breath. 

Two hands come up behind you, trail themselves over your back and down to your ass, where he gives the two globes a tight squeeze. It draws a whimper out of you, one that Jungkook greedily swallows up. His tongue rubs up along yours, the wet muscle daringly pushing back against yours. His rebelliousness is only quelled with another press of your fingertips around his throat.

“Slow down,” you tell him. The first roll of your hips against him is slow, cruel in that you cut the motion short just as Jungkook begins to push back. A bratty huff escapes him, swollen pink lips pushing out into that endearing pout you love so much. It makes you grin, releasing the grip around his throat to carefully brush a stray strand of hair away from his eyes. 

It’s a gesture that works to soften Jungkook as well, the petulant look on his face melting away as you trail your pointer finger along his cheekbone. It’s replaced with a more tender one, dark lashes blinking up at you slowly. “Open,” you command upon reaching his mouth, finger pressing down against his pink lower lip. Jungkook obeys, opening his mouth until you can see his pink tongue and the dark abyss that leads down his throat. Your finger pushes itself in, and Jungkook certainly doesn’t try to resist. His lips suction around the digit fairly quickly, tight enough to keep you there but loose enough for you to slowly draw your finger in and out, each short plunge pressing down against his tongue. 

It’s a rather short affair, one that comes to an end when he accidentally bucks up against you, pressing his hardened member against your core. You retract your finger.  “Can you,” he tries, but his cheeks are stained red and he refuses to meet your gaze. “Just…” 

You intercept him with a chaste peck, maneuvering your legs until your knees are firmly pressed into the couch cushions beneath him, his thin waist trapped in between. When you sit up, you feel drunk on power and the way Jungkook looks up at you certainly doesn’t help. “Can I sit on your face?” 

He chokes. “I— sure, please,” he blurts out. His gaze follows you as you slip off of him, quickly discarding your pants and top on the floor. One pat against his thigh has him hurrying to shimmy out of his clothes, his sweatpants caught around his ankles. 

“You’re excited,” you laugh, stripping him of his bottoms when the frustration takes him over. 

Jungkook scoffs. “Well, yeah,” he mumbles, tugging his shirt off with one smooth motion. The ink around his bicep is as dark as ever, contrasts wonderfully against his warm face. “My fiancée is gonna sit on my face.”

The title makes you preen, quickly finding your place on his lap once more. With your clothing out of the way, Jungkook really does become a furnace. Every inch of his body is hot to the touch, soft too. “Fiancée,” you giggle, hands on his chest. They slide down, fingers playfully nudging his brown nipples. Jungkook flinches at the touch. “Gonna sit on my fiancé’s face,” you parrot back, delicately pinching one nipple between your fingers. A moan spills from his lips, his cock pushing against your thigh once more.

It’s the reminder you need, pushing back dutifully against him as you continue to toy with his chest. He’d look pretty with piercings, you find yourself thinking, watching on in fascination at the way his pert nipples stand at attention. Beneath you, Jungkook begins to grow desperate, his hands finding their place on your waist to encourage you to grind down against him once more. 

Jungkook swears up and down that he’s not particularly sensitive about having his nipples touched. But when you’ve got him like this, sinfully laid out before you, you can easily confirm that his claims are nothing but lies. He loves having his nipples touched, squirms beneath you impatiently with each playful tug and twist you bestow upon them. 

You duck down, pressing a kiss against his pectoral, just beside his nipple, and Jungkook’s entire body shivers. A few careful drags of your tongue against his warm skin only serve to string him along further, the prettiest whimper pulling itself from his lips when you finally envelope one of them in your mouth. “Wait,” he gasps, clawing at your clothing as if he both wants to push you off and push you closer. You grin, brandishing one mean nip at the sensitive nub. 

Eventually, your incessant need to play with Jungkook’s chest is fulfilled. “Lay back,” you instruct, watching as he shuffles down flat on the cushions, silver hair tumbling away from his eyes. He’s so red, eyes hazy. Your panties are discarded, joining the ever growing pile of clothes on the floor. 

Once upon a time, the idea of sitting on Jungkook’s face had terrified you, filled you with nightmares of crushing his windpipe or breaking his nose. For the most part, they’re pretty unrealistic fears, ones that can be easily shut down after one careful Google search on safe sexual practices. These days, it’s all too easy; in the mornings, especially, it’s become natural for him to guide you on top carefully, holding your hand as you whimper and sob over his face. 

In the current moment, you find yourself stroking a hand down the side of his face, completely enamored with the huge puppy eyes he levels your way. Jungkook likes having your pussy in his face just as much as you do, loves making you feel good in any way he knows how. But there’s a separate matter at hand, one that stands at attention beneath his black boxers and successfully wins your attention. 

Truthfully, there is no dilemma to ponder over; you want both to ride Jungkook’s face and suck him off. The solution?

“We’ve never done this before,” Jungkook mumbles in amazement, his voice slightly muffled from his position beneath you and slightly behind you. Still, his arms dutifully wrap around your thighs, guiding you closer to his mouth where his hot breath fans against your glistening folds. You rock back willingly, hands preoccupied with pushing his boxers down and away from his engorged cock. 

“Really?” you ask, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with the cock before you and the tongue that gently laps at your folds. Jungkook makes a sound, something between a hum and whimper, his mouth slowly getting to work against your folds. “M- Maybe,” you stutter, all thought processes coming to a halt as you carefully take him in your hand. 

His cock is hard and long, his tip an angry shade that weeps with precum. From this angle, you get to watch Jungkook’s huge thighs twitch at the sensation, the tattoo that marks up one of them doing little to hide the fact. Your hand squeezes him, watches in awe as another fat droplet oozes out of his tip. A moan tears itself from his throat, and it’s so goddamn sexy it nearly drives you insane. 

It’s one particularly long lap of his tongue over your clit that sends you into action, back arching at the tingles that shoot down your spine. Wasting no more time, you guide Jungkook’s cock into your mouth, let your own tongue shower his mushroom tip in kitten licks that have him bucking upwards. He releases your clit with a lewd pop, hot breath fanning across your lips. “Fuck,” he gasps, voice harsh. 

Admittedly, it’s more difficult than you thought it would be. 

You’re not one to be easily overwhelmed (says you), but with Jungkook’s twitching cock in your mouth and his teasing tongue dipping into your entrance, it becomes hard to juggle your attention between the two. Even Jungkook, who is quite frankly the master of cunnilingus, seems torn between the two, his breathing shallow and quick against your folds. 

With each slow descent around his cock, he shudders, thigh muscles tightening in anticipation. It causes a lull in the pace of his tongue, the generous kisses and licks against your folds subject to a somewhat uneven pace that, surprisingly, leaves you more on edge than you’d ever expected it to; right when you think he’s about to suck your clit into his mouth, you’re met with a harsh exhale instead, one that makes your lips flutter. 

You’re both disappointed in yourselves for never having tried this mind-blowing position before, and equal parts understanding as to why you haven’t tried this position before— it’s a lot. His cock is halfway down your throat when it twitches, sends a gush of precum into your mouth that has your eyes rolling backwards, a whine slipping out around him. Jungkook appreciates the vibrations, letting it fuel him as he plunges his tongue into your hole. It’s a two way street, you realize, one that is constantly experiencing traffic. 

“Baby,” you gasp, pulling off of his cock with a slick sound, hypnotized by the trail of saliva that connects your lips to his tip. Jungkook’s tongue prods along your slit, makes your eyesight go blurry when the tip of his nose brushes along you as well. The idea of his cute nose buried deep someplace it shouldn’t be has you grinding down on him. “We can— we should stop,” you stutter, your trembling hand reaching forward to grasp the base of his cock. 

He’s slick with your saliva and his precum, and your hand makes a squelching sound upon contact. It must feel good, because Jungkook moans against your folds, his thighs unconsciously falling farther apart as you slowly jerk him off. You think you might’ve heard your name slip from his lips, but your mind is fuzzy, lost in your lust as Jungkook licks a sinful line from your hole to your clit, curling his tongue at the end. “J- Jungkook,” you cry, flinching away because it’s become too much, your toes curling as the beginnings of an orgasm threaten you. 

Before that can happen, he relents, leaning back with a heavy exhale, his hands loosening their grip against your ass and plopping back down against the cushions. “Fuck,” he pants, his cock twitching in your hold. A lonely droplet of precum trails down the side, your knuckles coated in the glossy substance. Beneath you, Jungkook rubs one soothing palm against your hip. 

You slink off before he can get any funny ideas, maneuver yourself around until you’re kneeling between his parted thighs, his fat cock standing at attention between the two of you. From here, he looks ravenous, and you begin to question who exactly is taking care of who. Jungkook looks like he’s a second away from pinning you down and swallowing you whole, a thought that makes your toes curl. 

It’s with a cautiously horny hand that you reach for his cock again, holding him with both hands. Jungkook growls, head lolling backwards until all you can see is his neck and his chin, thick veins protruding along his skin. Jungkook doesn’t waste a moment longer. “C’mere,” he purrs, hauling you up until you’re clumsily leaning over him, palms framing his face. A lone finger runs down your spine, its faint touch making you arch forward. “Sorry,” he says, securing an arm around your waist. “I know you wanted to take care of me, but…”

You roll your eyes, submitting yourself to his clutches as he masterfully rolls the two of you over. The couch is soft beneath your back, and Jungkook looks pretty from above too. “You just can’t sit still, can you?” you murmur playfully. 

Jungkook’s forearms find their place beneath your thighs, the fold of the back of your knee perfectly slotted against his warm skin as he shuffles closer. “Maybe another time,” he laughs along sheepishly, his hard cock gliding over your slit, teasing your clit. You gulp, eyes scanning over his lean build as if it’s the first time. “Sorry,” he repeats, but he’s got this stupidly dopey grin on his face as he glances down at your pussy; he’s insane, he’s got to be, what man makes heart eyes at a pussy?

Your man, apparently. Grasping the base of his cock, Jungkook takes care to drag it along your folds collecting your wetness along his length, a deep shudder wracking his body through it all. “I knew you would do this to me,” he mutters, so low you nearly miss it under the thundering sound of your heartbeat.

“Huh,” you mumble, and you’d like to defend yourself and say you weren’t as cock-crazy as Jungkook was coochie-crazy, but that would be a lie. You’re staring at his cock as if it holds the secrets to the universe right now.

Jungkook juts his head to the side, a motion similar to the one he does when he’s trying to crack his neck. His tongue prods along his cheek, eyes laser-focused on the point where your two bodies meet. “From the moment you walked into my house,” he grunts mindlessly, finally lining himself up with your entrance. He chances a glance up, meets your gaze with a patient look, “all good?”

“All good,” you hurriedly reply, fingers finding their place against his broad shoulders. With the way he had prepared you earlier, mouthed along your clit and your folds until you were pleasantly aroused, the glide now is too easy. Tight, but easy, has the two of you releasing twin moans that echo off the wooden walls of the cabin. 

Jungkook’s forehead is covered in a thin veil of sweat, one that glistens when the evening sunset pours in through the balcony doors, highlighting him in a golden light that makes you dizzy. The angry tip of his cock sinks into your walls, Jungkook’s ashy strands sticking to his forehead and his cheeks. For some reason, you find yourself reminiscing on the aforementioned moment Jungkook had spoken of. Of the soft sweater he’d worn that day and the dinner he had made, the blond tips on his chestnut hair and the way he’d clung onto every word you’d said. 

It makes you tear up, and, after laughing at Jungkook early for crying, you quickly turn your face away. 

Jungkook isn’t dumb. “What now,” he chuckles, though his breathing is labored, every inch of his cock that penetrates you further bringing with it another rush of adrenaline. At the hilt, you’re embarrassed to say there’s multiple tears streaming down your face, so you can’t even play it off as you usually do. “Crybaby,” Jungkook teases, but his voice is so soft and tender you don’t know what to do with yourself. 

“Just move,” you bite out, shamefully covering your face with your hands. Jungkook leans over you, the movement pushing his dick deeper inside of you, your walls clenching around him. A kiss is placed over your knuckles, just shy of your engagement ring. Your chest lurches with a silent sob. “Jungkook,” you whimper, sinking further into the cushion, “please, just—“

“I got it,” he assures you, placing one final peck against your handmade (literally) shield. And then, so quietly you almost miss it, he makes sure to whisper, “love you,” before unsheathing himself. 

You shudder, your heart feeling so full, you fear it’ll burst. You both love and hate when he treats you like this, like an ice sculpture in the scorching heat that has him doing everything he can to keep you solid. His touch is soft, the roll of his hips too slow for your liking. You feel so small and vulnerable— too pampered. “Harder,” you beg, your voice an airy whine that has Jungkook chuckling above you. 

He lives to please you, hiking your leg over his shoulder with a renewed vigor. His hands find themselves on your waist, forcefully pinning you down against the couch cushions as he sets upon fulfilling your latest request. The next series of thrusts are jerky, have you jostling in his grip as Jungkook pounds into you with an all new mindset. “Lemme see you,” he huffs, thumbs painfully digging into your skin. You tremble in his arms, heart swayed by the quiet plea in his voice. “Let me see your face, pretty girl.”

Reluctantly, you do, brandishing your tear-stricken face his way. Jungkook smiles, that stupidly handsome smile, his hips snapping into you roughly. “Fuck,” he moans, the expression never leaving his face, even when run your nails over his chest harshly. “You’re so pretty.”

You ignore him for the sake of your already weakened mental state, focusing instead on the brutal force of his hips, the way his cock stretches your walls out. Each push has you seeing stars, thighs quivering from the sensations that shoot up your spine and down your toes. “Oh,” you mewl, hands gripping his biceps as you lose yourself to him. Your eyes roll back, vision a mess of colors and nothingness all at once. 

“Is this hard enough?” Jungkook husks out, and he sounds so close. His proximity is confirmed when his mouth slots against yours, his harsh breath mingling with your own as he continues to frantically buck into your inviting heat, each new round of thrusts leaving you weaker and weaker than before. “God,” Jungkook cries, the sound nearly lost beneath your own moans and whimpers. “Gonna k- keep you forever,” he spits, tongue slipping into your mouth.

He’s messier than usual, moves with unrefined movements unlike his normal self. You don’t care, you love him all the same. His sloppy kisses turn into desperate ones, matching the pace of his hips. “Kook,” you sob, arms wrapping themselves around his neck, pulling him close until his thrusts are reduced to a shallower depth. 

“I’ve got you,” he croons, lips against your jawline. His cock presses in and you swear you feel it alongside every inch of your walls, a warmth blossoming in your stomach. He’s layering messy kisses down your face now, lips sucking dark marks any chance he gets. 

True to his word, Jungkook indeed has you. His cock pistons in and out at an astonishing pace, each surge into your folds making you dizzy over and over again. It’s a feeling you fear you’ll never grow tired of, in fact, it’s a feeling you fear you’ll begin to crave even more in the future. The good thing is, that future will extend into forever. 

You yank him towards you, swallow his low laughter with your lips. Jungkook doesn’t complain, lowering himself until he’s practically squishing you beneath his beefy body, cock ramming in and out despite all that. His tongue glides along yours, makes it his mission to muffle each of your cries. 

It doesn’t take long for you to be fulfilled. Given the fact you had sucked him off like a lollipop whilst having him eat you out, you’re not entirely surprised. That and the emotions of tonight have you melting into him sooner than you’d like, his name falling from your lips as your thighs clamp down around his waist. Jungkook takes it in stride, slows the maddening pace of his hips to cradle you in his arms. You’re like jelly, practically flop back into the cushion when he slips an arm beneath you. “You’re so good for me,” Jungkook praises, lavishing your throat in tiny pecks as his orgasm circles around. “My pretty girl.”

“Love you,” you sigh, and your body feels numb, his intrusion but a small touch now that he’s tired you out once more, your walls tender and raw. Jungkook presses a smile against your throat and, moments later, releases inside of you. 

Even minutes after the deed, the feeling refuses to return to your legs. He didn’t go that hard— well, you’re not entirely sure. The memories always become blurry toward the end of your escapades. Everything rushes back in waves, and for some reason, your first thought is, “where’s Sailor Moon?”

Your post-rump conversations have never been the most coherent, usually filled with pretty weird thoughts and ideas. Still, more grand things have happened tonight for you to be worried about a magical anime girl. Jungkook draws himself out of your core with a huff of laughter. “On the TV,” he answers, unfazed by the oddity of your question. 

That’s how you know he’s a keeper.

It takes a while, but eventually Jungkook responds. “Avocado toast,” he says, though his answer is dripping with uncertainty. He’s naked as the day he was born, snuggled up beside you in bed. He’s propped up on one arm, looking down at you over the ample swell of his manly bosom. It takes everything in you to keep your hands off his chest. 

“Correct,” you respond, “and what movie did we watch?”

Without missing a beat, “Transformers, the first one.”

You nod, glancing at the ceiling as you rack your brain for any other trivia questions to ask your fiancé. “The title of the playlist you made?”

A flush paints his cheeks. “Date Night playlist,” he answers through a pout, reprimanding you for bringing up such a memory with a flick to your forehead. You wince. “I was young and silly,” he defends.

You beam, cuddling into his side until he’s forced to lay back down. “Yeah, yeah,” you tease. “We’re only gonna get older from here,” you lament. You’d say it’s difficult to picture him with a gray head of hair, but his current silvery locks don’t leave much room for your imagination.

Jungkook pulls you close. A beat of silence passes, and then, “so who are we telling first?”

Definitely Namjoon.

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[ihatebnha]

Me: I’m a strong, independent feminist who wants her own career and financial independence

Also me: Does Bakugou need a housewife? 🥺👉👈

OKAY BUT I LITeRALLY LOST MY JOB TODAY AND WAS GENUINELY THINKINKING ABT THIS IN THE CAR OMW HOME ... so uh...... 1. how did u read my mind and 2. where are the applications????????? ???

-

Katsuki Bakugo is a good husband. 

In fact, he’s a great husband, as despite the both of your busy schedules, he shares all the cooking and splits all the chores with you, always happy to find himself at your side after a long day of work and proud of the fact that he can help to lighten your equally as challenging work load. 

While not a day has gone by since your wedding that he’s ever been bothered by your decision to stay employed… that doesn’t mean he bats an eye when you come home crying that you’ve lost your job. 

“Stop worrying, moron,” he tells you, pulling you straight onto his lap as you weep. “They didn’t need you anyway.”  

And you nod, agreeing, already feeling slightly better when he tells you to take some time for yourself, that he’ll help you find another job later, but leaving the part where you really don’t need to unsaid. 

Though you definitely miss your old coworkers, and find your house to be somewhat lonely when Bakugo isn’t home, you nonetheless start to have fun by yourself; shooing away Bakugo’s helping hands when he follows you into the laundry room with a hamper full of dirty sweats, and laughing when realizes that you’ve already washed his whites. 

You even learn to cook a little better, not that Bakugo’s initial guidance hadn’t left you a pro already, just now that you find yourself packing his lunches; little, heart-shaped rice balls filled with salmon next to spicy noodles and salads with cute, kitty-faced fork picks. 

And when you stay up too late making sure they’re perfect, Bakugo even fucks you in the snug green and orange apron he bought you ages ago, bending you over the cold marble of your kitchen island, still shiny and clean from when you cleaned up after meal prep, as he digs his fingers into your pretty, panty-clad ass and makes you cum all over his freshly washed PJs. 

-

“You like being a home maker?” he asks, once his cock is lodged against the your softest, spongiest spot. “Huh, my little lazy housewife?” 

You find you can only drool, the burning shame you would’ve normally felt a mere nudge at the back of your mind. Doing your best to nod with your face pressed against the countertop, Bakugo leans forward to press his chest into your back, lips smiling in your hair as his hips continue to drill yours into the table. 

“You do, baby?” he confirms, blunt nails pressing into your soft flesh as his forehead hits your shoulder. “Finally admit you like staying home for daddy?” 

As if to say yes, you wiggle your hips in his hands, Bakugo growling at the friction, and then, 

“How ‘bout I give you a reason to?” 

And when the coil in your gut finally snaps, toes curling against the way Bakugo is already heaving and spilling himself tight against your cervix, you find that you don’t really seem to mind the idea.