#he really just says the damnedest without a second thought

[grims-sunshine]

hello! How are you? I see your requests are open? If it's alright, can i request some angst, but with a happy ending because I'm too damn soft🥲 Fem Tav being absolutely devastated when Astarion confessed but also that he was originally manipulating and using her? I never see anyone writing Tav being upset over that, like she's in love with him, but is rightfully angry and upset with him and just sobs while avoiding him for a while? 🥲

Hi hi anon! I'm good, thanks for asking <3 I hope you're alright too!

I love this idea so much aaaaah! I had to start writing pretty much immediately ahaha

Thanks so much for the request, I hope you enjoy it <3

🤍 Feel Better 🤍

Pairing: Astarion x Tav

Word count: 1.7k

Tags: angst with a happy ending, some mild anxiety, arguing, Tav says a few not so nice things maybe

"I care about you."

It's true when you say these words to Astarion. At least you think it's true. At least it was true just five minutes ago.

You're pretty sure it's still true.

You pull Astarion into a hug, and aren't sure if you do it because you want to hug him, or because it feels like the right thing to do.

He hesitates for a moment, but puts his arms around you as well. You're overcome with a wave of happiness that he hugged you back, then sadness that he just admitted to having manipulated you, then anger that you were dumb enough to fall for it.

When he holds your hand, you see a glint of sincerity in his eyes. But you're not sure you can trust your own judgment anymore. Part of you wonders if he actually means it this time.

You know it wouldn't make sense for him to lie again, right after confessing his last lie and admitting that he felt bad for it.

But it didn't make sense for him to lie the first time either.

You've been defending Gale when the others were mad about his secret, and he wasn't sleeping with you. You tried to stand up for Wyll when Mizora showed up, and he hadn't shown even a hint of interest in you. You sided with Karlach and helped her deal with the paladins when you didn't even know her yet.

In short, you've been doing your damnedest to protect the people around you, not because you wanted anything in return, but because you're all in an unfortunate situation, just trying to stay alive, and you believe it'll be better for all of you to help each other. You would've done the same for Astarion, without him ever doing so much as touch you.

Your thoughts cause unease to rise within you, getting worse with every second. Once he lets go of you, you excuse yourself, rushing off to a quiet place, out of view from the others.

You sink to the ground, leaning your head back against the wall as your vision goes blurry. Before you even notice it, tears stream down your face and you suppress a sob.

You feel betrayed. Astarion played with your feelings just to gain a benefit from you, with seemingly no care how it would make you feel. You should've gotten angry at him, told him off for manipulating you, screamed at him for hurting your feelings.

Instead, you gave him a hug and said you care about him.

Underneath the anger and hurt, your feelings for him are still there, maybe stronger than ever. If you could just move past this, maybe the two of you can be happy together after all.

It makes you feel like a child, thinking that you're in some kind of fairy tale romance. But you're not the protagonist of a storybook, and you're starting to have serious doubts that Astarion is the prince who will sweep you off your feet and bring you eternal happiness.

And yet, that small part of you makes you decide to stay with him for now and hope everything will work out for the better. You're not sure if you're naive, stupid, or if Astarion really is worth trying, but you trust your gut feeling, even when your brain is telling you to break things off immediately.

Still, you can't help feeling hurt over everything that happened, so over the next couple of days you pull away from Astarion. It's not your intention, but whenever you're close to him, you start to feel dizzy, sick even. You feel your chest tighten and a knot form in your stomach that gets worse the longer you're around him.

You used to not get enough of being close to you, now it feels like your whole body recoils against his presence.

Astarion doesn't seem to notice that anything has changed -- Or if he does, he doesn't show it. If anything, he's become even more affectionate with you.

He's been seeking out your touch more often, giving you occasional hugs and stealing kisses from you. They make your heart beat faster, but you can't tell anymore if it's because you love him or because it sends your brain into overdrive each time, wondering if he's doing it because he wants to be close to you or because he wants to keep you hooked so you won't turn away from him now.

You hate that you have to question him. You hate that you feel like you can no longer trust him when you blindly would've put your life in his hands just a few days ago.

To make things worse, life has decided to hurl even more struggles at you while you're dealing with your feelings.

The Shadow-Cursed Lands have been getting especially cold at night. You try to stay as close to the fireplace as possible, but it feels like the darkness sucks away any warmth provided by the fire, so you're left shivering and wishing you could lie in a warm bed with several blankets instead.

"Wanna cuddle a little for warmth?" Astarion's voice catches you off guard and you almost flinch when you notice him standing beside you, watching you shiver and grasping your arms.

"Not that I have much body heat to give off, but, you know… I could be there for you in spirit." He continues, giving you a smile that looks almost a little shy.

You're hesitant at first, but something about the way he looks at you plugs at your heartstrings. You can't resist him, not when he looks like he's sending silent prayers to the gods that you'll agree.

"Yeah, sure. At the very least you'll block off a bit of the cold, right?" You say, earning a chuckle from him.

"I'll do my very best to shield you from the cold, darling."

He settles down facing you, wrapping one arm around you to pull you closer to his chest.

You try your best to relax, but your body still tenses around him, even when you try to just swallow down your feelings.

You lie in silence for a while, until Astarion sighs.

"Is everything alright, dear? You've been acting a little off lately. I wasn't sure if I should mention it at all, but to be honest, I am a little worried." His tone is serious, void of the usual playfulness in his voice.

Damn it. He noticed.

"It's nothing, really," you say, hoping that he'll drop it. Instead, he just looks at you, sceptical.

"Are you sure? You can talk to me, you know." He frowns brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "It's just," he hesitates, like he's unsure of what to say, "I feel like you've started avoiding me ever since I opened up about my feelings. So, I've been thinking, maybe I misread the signs and you actually never wanted to move past… Whatever the hells it was we had before," he rambles. Then, a little quieter, he adds, "You know, I've never done this whole relationship thing, and I really don't want to make a fool of myself by pursuing someone who doesn't like me that way." He lets out a nervous chuckle.

Oh hells no.

"Make a fool out of you?" The words break out of you, louder and angrier than intended. "What about me, who made a fool out of herself the whole time thinking you actually liked me?" You should stay composed, calm yourself before you say something you regret, but at that moment, all the complicated feelings you've been having swirl together and explode within you. "You didn't stop once to think about that, did you? But when it's about you having to deal with something unpleasant, suddenly it's a problem. Don't you think that's a little selfish of you?"

By the way Astarion looks at you, you'd think he'd just been slapped. Then he averts his eyes and you feel his hands tightening, gripping the back of your shirt.

"Right," he sighs. "I deserve to be called selfish, I suppose."

Astarion takes a deep breath, his jaw clenching as he thinks about what to say next, before he relaxes it again. "I know what I did to you was wrong. I manipulated you and you didn't deserve that. At all." His voice quivers a little as he continues to speak. "And I know it's no excuse, but this is what I've done for two centuries. Manipulate people to avoid getting hurt. I have no damn idea how to navigate a relationship with someone who isn't trying to make me suffer at every turn, or someone who I know will meet a terrible end because of me."

He looks at you again with a pained expression. "I really do care about you, despite what I've done, you know? I didn't intend to care about you, but you crushed all my intentions just by being your wonderful, amazing self. And if you're willing to give me another chance, I promise to make this right. I promise I won't ever try to deceive you again. I want to be someone worthy of your love and I'll do what I can to be that kind of person."

This time you're absolutely certain that he's sincere. There's not a sliver of doubt in your mind about that.

You don't even realize that you haven't said anything in a while until you notice Astarion grow increasingly nervous, looking at you like he expects you to cuss him out and tell him to leave any second.

You grab his hand and press a kiss to his palm. "I am willing to give you a chance," you say, seeing the instant wave of relief rush over his face. "I know you're new to all of this, and I know you've been through a lot. I should've talked about this sooner instead of just avoiding you. And I shouldn't have yelled earlier either. So I'm sorry as well."

Astarion presses his forehead against yours, pulling you into a close hug. "So things are good between us now, right?"

You nod, leaning in to kiss his cheek before nuzzling into his chest. "Yeah, everything's alright."

Title inspired by this

[vettelsbitch]

Kidfic anon back here 🥰 Just been thinking about your drabbles once again and came up with something because 14th Feb is just around the corner: do you think either of them considers inviting the other to a dinner date? And THEN, I thought, Bez probably won't because of Theo. And Cele doesn't want Bez to feel like he has to get somebody to watch Theo. BUT what if Theo is our little match maker? Like, they've been talking about Valentine's in kindergarten and Theo understands that many people spend that day with people they like and since both of them really like Cele, he could come over? And then, he's smiling in such a cute way that Bez can't say no (plus, Bez also wants to have Cele over as much as possible!!!) and now he has to somehow ask Cele over for VALENTINE'S

Bestie, darling, your brain! I'm still thinking about the holidays drabble and what they would do when Cele goes to Bez's house and meets the parents and all that because I would like to write something for that but I can't promise when the muses might hit me.

BUT! Now I'm thinking Valentine's, maybe something not quite happened during the holidays (Bez walking in on Cele getting changed into a nice outfit, Bez's sister poking fun at her brother because he is basically 🥺🥺 at Cele, maybe they almost kiss but Matteo calls Bez over and it's a 'i should go' 'yeah' 'yeah' and ofc it reminds Bez that he has a kid and Cele is young and shouldn't be tied down), and now they've been once again a bit distant, with Cele busy with exams, but they still see each other it's hard to keep Teo away from his bestie! And of course Bez is also so happy whenever they see him, the rare occasion when they catch Cele coming back when they're going out to the park and he, no matter how tired he is, tells them to wait for him, running up the stairs and coming back without his backpack not even five minutes later. Bez loves sitting next to him, Rubik between their legs, while they look at Matteo climbing and running around with friends, soon enough coming back to them and demanding that they play ball with him.

Bez doesn't really realize Valentine's is getting close until Luca starts talking about dinner reservations. And of course his first thought is wondering if Cele has plans. His second thought is what about Teo, his friends have their own plans so it's not like he can ask them to watch him. And he isn't even sure if Cele likes him (Luca is about to hit his friend because Bez must be really blind to not see how Cele looks at him, and how Cele used to look at Luca before he made it very clear that they were just friends).

On the other side Cele wants to invite Bez to go out with him so bad, but he doesn't want to inconvenience him. And he would like to include Teo too! He's trying his damnedest to come up with some idea, his search history ranges from 'dates for people with kids' to 'how to tell if he likes me' to 'spiderman valentines'

And then, just a mere couple days before Matteo brings home a school project that he hides against his chest like it's a secret, Bez only manages to catch a glimpse at pink paper and red glitter. When he tries to ask him, Teo just looks up at him with his big brown eyes, the little gap in his front teeth that always makes Bez's mom smile, and crosses his arms tighter against his chest. "Nothing." Bez would want to know more but how bad could some kind of school project be? Teo is a smart kid, if he needs help he will ask for it.

But Matteo doesn't ask for Bez's help, the next day he has to do a double shift at work, covering for someone that's sick (which will also mean he has Valentine's day free), and when he comes back home he sees Luca sitting next to Teo, bending his tall body enough to reach the little desk he has in his room. They're so focused that they don't seem to realize Bez has gotten home, so he spends a second looking at them, the mess of coloring pencils next to the and Rubik sleeping on Matteo's bed.

When Luca realizes he's there, he whispers something to Teo, standing up while he scrambles to cover whatever they were doing. Luca asks Bez about his day, and they manage to distract him quickly enough that it's not until later that he remembers it and thinks about messaging Luca about it. But who can blame him, he's really tired and Teo is dozing off against his chest so who cares.

Anyway, the next day seems normal at first, Bez helping Teo get ready for school like always before he seems to remember something in the middle of brushing his teeth, running to his room.

The next thing Bez sees is his kid is walking up to him with a glittery heart that says "Papà" in big blue letters in the middle. And so it all makes sense.

"Happy Valen'ines, Papà"

Bez would kneel down, kissing Matteo's cheek and hugging him, uncaring if the glitter ends up all over his shirt. "Thank you, baby!"

Of course the heart ends on the fridge next to all the other drawings. Since the secret is out Teo would tell him excitedly about it, how at school they told them about the holiday and started making the cards.

"For the people you really like!" He says, before he seems to remember something else. "We need to give it to Cele!!"

Bez would be so surprised, like what??? Cele? And Teo would explain that Luca helped him because he knew how to write Papà but not how to write Cele and ofc they need to give it to him, because they like him so much. Bez promises that they will go see Cele after school is done so Teo agrees to go without trying to run to Cele's door. Bez spends the hours alone at home in a haze of 'oh god, I hope Cele doesn't have plans' and 'should I buy something else for him?' and 'of course we really like him'

He does end up getting a box of chocolates on his way to get Teo from school, and he feels as nervous as he was when he was a teen and had his first kiss. He manages to convince Teo to eat before they go and knock on Cele's door. Bez doesn't know if he wants him to be in or not, his heart feels like it's going to jump ship.

But ofc Cele opens the door, a wide grin in his dumb face the moment he sees them. Teo has the heart (Cele's is pink with orange letters) in his hands and Bez has the chocolates in his hoodie, hidden for now.

I imagine the exchange would go a little like:

"For me? Thank you Teo!"

"Yes, because I like you Cele!"

Cele's eyes moving up to Bez. And Bez would have a second of intense bravery while looking at his dark eyes and rosy cheeks.

"Would you like to come to the park with us? And have dinner later?"

Cele would stutter and flail. "If you guy's are not busy."

And that second there would be so intense, Cele's eyes shining, still crouching down to be at Teo's height, looking up at Cele, his mouth open in surprise shifting slowly into a massive smile. Bez knows he probably looks dumb, blushing and smiling, and he knows that Luca is going to be asking him how it went early next morning, but right now he doesn't have to worry about work and he basically invited Cele on a Valentine's date, with his kid, so everything is great.

"Of course not, we like you a lot."

Then they're on their way to the park, Teo holding onto Cele's hand before running towards one of his friends. Bez and Cele sit down on their usual bench, and then Bez would bring out the box of chocolates, his cheeks burning up even more than before.

"For you, Cele."

"Marco.. thank you so much."

And Cele would blush and kiss his cheek and Bez knows he's probably doing something right.

And then they have dinner and they watch Spiderman yet again and Cele and Teo fall asleep against Bez, and thankfully the next day is Saturday (because it's my universe and I say so) so he doesn't have to worry and can allow himself to rest his head against Cele's curls, grabbing Teo closer and fall asleep himself.

[willysnylander]

as promised , i come bearing a word prompt !!! i would love if you could possible write something with lukedaws + ‘surprise’ please !! i think i would love you forever (somehow impossibly more than i already do😽🫶)

thanks so much for this, becca!! sorry it took me so long and that it’s kind of short, i started writing a different version of this and i wound up not liking it so i had to start over 😭. i hope you like it!, though! <3

The kiss comes as a total surprise, when it happens. Not an unwelcome one, certainly, considering all the less-than-platonic thoughts Luke has been secretly having about his teammate for months now, but definitely a surprise.

The two of them are sitting on the couch of Luke and Jack’s apartment, playing a few rounds of Chel and just generally hanging out. It’s just them in the apartment - Jack’s out grocery shopping. It was supposed to be Luke’s turn to do that, actually, but when he’d mentioned earlier that Dawson had texted him asking to hang out Jack said he would do it instead, an offer paired with a wink and an insistence that Luke should be able to spend time with his quote-unquote “future husband”.

Luke had very much appreciated his brother in that moment, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t thrown a pillow at Jack as the older Hughes brother had made his way out of the apartment.

Right now, though, Luke has just finished kicking Dawson’s ass for the third round in a row. As the game ends on the TV screen, Luke throws up his arms and lets out a triumphant crow, quickly followed by a laugh as Dawson groans and slumps dramatically back into the couch cushions.

“Dude,” Dawson whines. “I already know you’re good at this game, you don’t have to, like, humiliate me to prove it.”

Luke laughs again, shorter this time. “Please, you think that was me humiliating you? You should see me play against Jack or John sometime, that’s me humiliating someone.”

He sets his controller on the coffee table, preparing to take a little break and grab a drink from the kitchen, and when he turns over his shoulder to ask Dawson if he wants anything, the other boy is actually pouting. It’s not an expression Luke is used to seeing on his teammate at all, and it’s so silly and endearing all at once that he feels heat bloom in his chest and finds himself unsure whether to laugh or smile fondly.

“Still,” says Dawson, and it takes Luke a second to force his stupid crushing brain to focus on the words and not just the lips they’re coming out of, “you couldn’t’ve let me win once? Spare my poor, fragile ego?”

Luke does laugh now, tilting his head back slightly from the force of it. He closes his eyes, too, without really meaning to, and when he rights the position of his head and opens them again, Dawson is looking at him with a look in his eyes that he can’t exactly place.

Which is kind of weird. But Luke has already promised himself a while ago, when he first realized he actually had a crush on his teammate, that he was going to do his damnedest to act completely normally around Dawson at all times, and he might as well apply that to odd behaviour from Dawson as well. Besides, it isn’t like the unreadable look on Dawson’s face is the kind of look Luke hopes it is, as much as that sucks - he’s long since accepted that the other boy will never return his feelings and he’ll be stuck uselessly pining until he either finds someone else to like or the feelings go away on their own.

With all that in mind, Luke clears his throat a bit, trying to ignore the blush creeping onto his face because Dawson hasn’t stopped staring at him with that look in his eyes, and says as lightheartedly as possible, “C’mon, Merc, you know I don’t let anyone else win. You wanna beat me, you’ve gotta earn it.” He gently bumps Dawson’s knee with his, smiling as normally as he’s able while his cheeks slowly turn the color of a sunrise. “I’m gonna go grab a Gatorade before we play again, you want-”

He doesn’t get to finish his question. Because all of a sudden Dawson’s eyes have gone from unreadable to determined, and he’s sitting forward again, and then he’s leaning over and his lips, those lips that Luke has been dreaming about for longer than he really wants to admit, are on Luke’s, and just like that Luke is being kissed by the boy he’s just finished reminding himself he’ll never be able to have.

For a second or two, Luke’s body turns to ice, and he just sits there like an idiot, completely still. It isn’t until Dawson falters, seeming to fully realize what he’s doing and panic, and his mouth starts to pull away from Luke’s that Luke finally manages to kick himself out of shock and into action. He chases Dawson, pressing his lips firmly back onto the other boy’s, and this time it’s Dawson’s turn to briefly freeze before he starts responding.

And once he does start responding - Jesus, it’s the best kiss Luke’s ever had. Dawson, even though he’s only two years older and can’t have that much more experience, clearly knows what he’s doing, moving his lips near-perfectly in sync with Luke’s and giving just the right amount of gentle pressure. Luke finds his hands wandering up to tangle themselves in the older boy’s hair, and in return he feels one of Dawson’s hands come to rest on his thigh, acting as a brace for his teammate as Dawson pushes himself impossibly closer to him.

When they finally break apart for air, Luke feels like it’s been an eternity and a single instant all at once. They don’t go far from each other, faces still close enough that they’re panting the same air, their noses just barely brushing together. Dawson’s pupils are blown wide, his hair is messy where Luke still has his hands in it, and his lips are kiss-swollen in the same way Luke imagines his own must be. He’s never looked more attractive, and Luke can feel the heat that had spread through his chest earlier growing even further, becoming a raging inferno of something that feels like genuine love as Luke gazes at the beautiful boy he’s just finished kissing.

Still a bit out of breath, Dawson murmurs, “You’re so fucking good-looking when you laugh.”

So that was the look in his eyes, then, and the reason behind it. Luke knows, logically, that they should have an actual conversation now, that they should talk about how long they’ve both been feelings the feelings they clearly share despite how much Luke thought the opposite. They should be responsible young adults and discuss where they go from here, whether they’ll actually enter into a relationship and what that could look like. They should stop, take a moment, and come up with an actual plan.

But Luke’s never really been that good at planning. And despite everything, how much responsibility he already has that most people his age don’t even have to think about, he’s still a twenty-year-old with a beautiful boy in front of him - a boy he’s been fantasizing about kissing for months, who has just given him the best surprise of his life by making that fantasy come true and making it better than he could’ve dreamed.

So right now, Luke decides to wait until a little later to be responsible. Right now, he just smiles as Dawson, so wide he feels like it’s going to split his face, and closes the short gap between their lips.

taglist: @hughes-jack, @gayhughes, @square-opossums, @hiya-itsamber, @yoontwin (let me know if you want to be added or removed!!)

[gggoode]

well well well i bet you thought you'd never see the day, me writing something other than crygi who is she x i love showing versatility

~~~

Marcia didn't exactly like the subway, but she found ways to enjoy it.

Sometimes she got to see the rats. That also included seeing people who weren't used to the rats freaking out about the rats.

Mostly she just enjoyed people watching.

There were lots of tourists, obviously. People lugging heavy suitcases and scrutinising the map while they tried not to get toppled over by the train's movements.

There were the performers and buskers, doing their damnedest even as most of the passengers just averted their eyes and tried their best to ignore them.

Her favourites were probably the most boring. The regular people who were just going to work or whatever, but those were the people she knew. Not by name or anything, but she saw them often enough that she recognised them.

There was gym girl who always had a cute matching tracksuit. The woman with twin babies who were now twin toddlers, but they were so well-behaved and they always had cute outfits. There was a man Marcia had never seen without his trumpet case, but she wasn't convinced that it contained an actual trumpet.

Her very favourite was the one she was closest to counting as her friend, though. It was stupid, since they'd never even spoken, but one night Marcia had been sitting and trying her best to ignore a creepy man who was leering over and wouldn't stop talking to her.

She was wearing headphones but not listening to music so she could hear every horrible sleazy word he was saying. He was undeterred by her obvious discomfort, but he was definitely deterred when She came to sit beside Marcia, giving the man a stony glare.

He'd shambled off to the other end of the carriage and gotten off the train at the next stop.

Marcia had given her a grateful smile. The woman was so hot that it was almost funny. She was tall, slim but strong-looking, had a pale scar running through one eyebrow, and was wearing a leather jacket and chunky platform boots.

Marcia usually would have been intimidated but the woman looked much less scary when she grinned back at her, a little lopsided but very cute.

Cute. The woman would probably kick Marcia's ass if she knew she was thinking of her as cute.

But she put in her headphones and settled beside her, and so began their new tradition. Marcia learned that the woman got on the train two stops after her. She was almost always wearing all black, and she'd never seen her without her leather jacket.

Every night she got on at the same carriage and came to sit beside Marcia. Every night they'd exchange the same little smile, nothing more, nothing less.

If there wasn't a seat beside her, the woman would sit opposite. One night the train had been totally rammed and the woman had stood by the door, but when Marcia looked up and caught her eye, she still grinned at her.

It shouldn't have given her butterflies but god, it did.

The train was quiet tonight which was nice after a stressful day at work. Marcia settled into her usual seat and put her headphones in, music quiet enough that she could still hear the clatter of the train over the top of it.

She tried to ignore the now-familiar flutter of excitement as the train pulled into the second stop after hers. Some nights the woman wasn't even there, and it was really embarrassing when Marcia got excited for nothing. Nobody knew about her little infatuation, but she always felt herself going red anyway.

The woman was there. Marcia ignored the way her heart started beating faster at the sight of her.

Tonight something was different. She was squinting as she got on the train, and seemed a little unsteady on her feet as she made her way down the carriage.

She sat beside Marcia as usual but she didn't smile at her. She just hunched over and pressed her hands over her face.

Marcia swallowed. She didn't know if it was normal to freak out so much over this. If it wasn't Her, if it was just some random passenger she'd never encountered before who was clearly in some kind of pain, she'd definitely ask if they were okay.

So she steeled herself as she removed one earphone and touched the woman gently on the shoulder. The leather of her jacket was softer than she'd expected.

"Are you okay?" she asked, speaking up enough that she'd be heard over the noise of the train but hopefully not shouting in her ear.

The woman was still for a moment before shaking her head. "Migraine," she said.

Marcia nodded even though the woman couldn't see her. She thankfully wasn't afflicted with migraines but plenty of her friends were, and she was always prepared. "Do you want a painkiller?"

The woman peeked at her out the corner of her eye, still shielding them from the train's bright fluorescent lights. "Don't they say you're not supposed to accept pills from strangers? Even if they're pretty girls?"

"Oh," was all Marcia could think to say. She couldn't see her reflection but she knew her face had gone the same colour as a tomato. "It's just aspirin."

"Yes please," the woman agreed, and there was a little smile on her face now. "I dunno if I'd count you as a stranger, anyway. Even though I don't know your name."

"Marcia," Marcia said automatically as she dug around in her bag for painkillers. She hoped the woman wasn't looking as she pulled out her silly fluffy bag shaped like a bunny and unzipped it to get the pills.

"Anetra," Anetra said. Of course she had a name like Anetra.

"It's nice to meet you. Officially," Marcia said, handing her over the painkillers. They'd just pulled into a station so Anetra quickly popped two of them out of the packet and into her mouth. She swallowed them dry and Marcia felt her own throat dry up in sympathy. "You want some water? I promise I don't have any diseases. That I know of."

Anetra snorted and nodded, clearing her throat. "I really didn't come prepared today."

Marcia dug out her water bottle and tried not to be embarrassed that it was covered in little yellow ducklings. Usually she liked cute stuff but it made her feel like an idiot next to Anetra. "I'm impressed you're even on the train. My roommate gets migraines and she's kind of pathetic about it."

Anetra was taking careful sips from the water bottle. Whether that was because she didn't want to spill it on the moving train or because she didn't want to put her lips on the bottle too much, Marcia didn't know. "I'll be pathetic about it when I get home, don't worry."

Marcia laughed quietly. "Do you know what causes them?"

"Usually hunger or dehydration," Anetra said, screwing the cap back on the bottle and offering it back to Marcia.

Marcia waved her hand. "Keep drinking if you're dehydrated."

Anetra seemed vaguely amused as she unscrewed it again and took another sip. "I think it's mostly hunger. Today's been crazy and I didn't get time to eat properly."

Marcia didn't know what possessed her to be so bold. Maybe it was Anetra's comment about pretty girls, or maybe it was the fact that they'd been sitting together all this time and she was kind of worried that after tonight they'd go back to their usual silence if she didn't make some kind of move.

So before she could think too much, she was saying, "there's a really good dumpling place right below my apartment."

"Yeah?" Anetra said.

That wasn't an invitation. That was just a statement that didn't mean anything or have any bearing on Anetra's life. If anything, it was like Marcia was just bragging about it. So she cleared her throat to try again. "It's only a couple of minutes away from the station. And it's super quick, you'd have your food in like five minutes."

That still wasn't an invitation but Anetra shifted positions just enough that their shoulders were touching. "If I went to get food there would I have company?"

So Anetra had a migraine and she was still better at asking her out. Marcia nodded eagerly anyway, just relieved that she'd managed to get her point across. "Yeah! Of course. It's just a takeout so we can go upstairs and eat it at my place."

Anetra gave her that lopsided grin she was so fond of. "My dad would be so disappointed in me. Accepting pills from a stranger then accepting an invitation to go to her apartment."

It startled a laugh out of Marcia. "I'm not gonna kidnap you," she promised.

"I'm not worried," Anetra shot back. "I think I could take you if you tried. Even though I've been charmed by the cute water bottle and the little bunny you keep your pills in."

Marcia couldn't even find it in herself to be embarrassed. She'd charmed her.

It felt like no time before they were rolling into her stop. "This is me," Marcia said as the train slowed down.

"I know," Anetra said, because of course she knew. They'd been riding the train together for weeks.

But for the first time they got off together, voices echoing back and forth in the stairwell over the noise of the train as they climbed towards daylight.

[ebonysplendor]

Parasite in Love Review 🦠

TL;DR: You're pretty much in a toxic, nonconsensual relationship with an even more toxic amoeba. Yes, an amoeba. That's it. That's the game

Game Link: https://night-asob u.itch.io/parasite-in-love

Notable Features: She/Her/Hers MC, Named MC, Yandere LI, partial voice acting Spiciness: 0/5 -- No explicit content LI Red Flags: 2/5 -- lack of consent, a lil hands on...but from the inside...?

Want to know more? Well, let's get into it!

Let me just start off by saying... I genuinely thought this game was going to be wack lol. Like, no lie.

First off, from the synopsis I had read on the page, I initially thought that it was going to be more of the hallucinations that we were experiencing versus the parasite itself.

That being said, when I booted up the game...it was mad boring. I'm not even gonna lie to y'all, I was 2 seconds from clicking that ish out and moving on to another visual novel that I had saved to play later; however, I was like "Well, it just started. Let me give it a fair chance because this is clearly only the intro" because let's be real for a second. An intro is kind've hard to write without making it so plain that the person playing just loses interest nor making it so that shit just starts popping off out of seemingly no where. So, with that in consideration, I pushed through. I got through the first, like, day and 3/4 of the second day. THAT'S when things started getting a little more interesting, and I was like "Okay! Here we go!". After that, it was pleasantly interesting!

It definitely had a slow start with all the "I did this, then I did this, and then after that I did this" blah, blah, blah, but once it truly started? Oh, it was on. With that, I think I've rambled enough about my personal experience. Let's talk about the game (with as little spoilers as possible, as always)

So, boom, we're -- well, actually Marlowe -- is taking a vacay by...going in the wilderness.

No shade, no tea to you if this is your style of vacationing. I support, but no way in hell am I partaking. Ain't no way I'm going to get away from indoor struggles by experiencing outdoor struggles, like nu uh. Then again, Marlowe isn't exactly out here roughing it. She has this really nice cabin that she rented out, and she's going to chill the week there.

Even though this is a horror themed game, she actually has pretty solid reception out here, so we're good! We can call for help should we need it, right? ...Right?

Anyways, she goes to take a swim in this lake, and I honestly get why she did that...but why did she do that? Literally the intro to the game was a news story on this brain-eating bacteria that resides in -- you guessed it -- freshwater lakes.

What did we just take a swim in? A freshwater lake. Lol you already know where this is headed.

Okay, now that I'm actually trying to type this out, I don't really know how to present this story without spoiling it, but I'm going to try my damnedest, so bear with me.

So, without spoiling it too much, basically what ends up happening is that Marlowe gets really sick, and the friendly neighborhood germ, who's actually a lil toxic sumbetch, falls in love with her.

...

I know, I know, I said the same thing lol. We -- and by we, I mean Marlowe -- got sick, and the brain-eating bacteria that I mentioned earlier has fallen in love with us. But hear me out! It actually gets super interesting from here, so stay with me!

From this point, it's this odd tug-o-war game of survival. We're trying to survive it, and it is essentially trying to survive us from trying to kill it. To it -- this amoeba that named himself Niall and goes by he/him/his pronouns -- Marlowe isn't a host, but a spouse, and it's trying to build this family with her from inside her. For him, her survival means his death, and for Marlowe, it's the literal opposite.

By the way, this is Niall. Our...husband.

Anyways

During this tug-o-war game, Marlowe gets a little feisty with Niall, and Niall literally keeps her in check without physically touching her. Remember, Niall is a literal brain-eating bacteria. He's very real, but he isn't a person like she's hallucinating -- he's a disease. He's a disease that's making her ill, and he makes her symptoms worse whenever he gets pissed at her. Holy. Shit. Now, that's a crazy concept.

In an attempt to not ruin more than I may already have, I'll just say at this point, it's either him or Marlowe. As with a majority of visual novels, how this ends is completely up to the choices you make.

Like always, I'm not gonna lie to y'all. This game was significantly better than what I was initially expecting.

Like I mentioned before, the beginning was just really mundane to me, and I thought it was going to be the same scenario as another game I'm planning on writing a review about, but thankfully, it did not continue in that manner. Now that I've completed the game, it reads more like a "Everything was going great until it wasn't" type of thing, and it wasn't as "boring" as I initially thought. Still boring, but not "I wish this coworker would stop talking to me about this thing I don't care about" boring.

Now, that what I didn't care for is out of the way, let's talk about what I did care for: the concept of the story.

I could go on and on about how absolutely GENIUS I thought the concept of this VN was. Admittedly, if I did that, this review would turn out way longer than I'd want, and it'd seem like rambling. That being said, I'll just say this: By far, out of all the VNs that I've read so far (and admittedly, I'm relatively new to all of this, but hear me out), this has been the most original and the most interesting one as far as the concept that was chosen, not to mention it was executed well.

During this VN, I actually got a "...Okay, this is actually terrifying if you think about it" feeling. Not to mention, the take of "We're the same but different" premise. Like, Marlowe and Niall wanted the same exact thing as far as lifestyle but from different aspects. Hers was more of a life milestone or value that she had, and his was for the sheer aspect of survival. That was what made him cling to her the way that he had. It wasn't even about her looks or from the typical "You were the only person that was ever nice to me" trope, but a "You have the same will to survive like I do". Like damn. Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn! A deadly bacteria falls in love with you because he sees similarities in the two of you and is under the impression that you understand and consent to what he's doing. That is such an insane concept, and damn do I want to talk about it more, but I won't because I'll start rambling it and ruin it.

Overall, I'd recommend giving this game a go! Honestly, to me, it's not the most interesting reading-wise, but if you stick with it for the concept, it's a pretty solid read! Not to mention there's some partial voice acting which is super cool! Be sure to leave your comments on the dev's page if you feel like they're doing a good job, and you want to give them that extra reassurance. Like mentioned at the top, here is the link to the game if you'd like to try it out yourself! I definitely think that you should if you want to experience something different from the norm.

Anyways! That's all from me! Drink water, don't be dumb, and hope to see you around! Until next time~!

Parasite in Love Game Link and Page

[gasmeros]

May I haps ask about the solstice kidnapping zuko AND the zuko jumping one? That smiley face makes me so nervous

ok so the solstice kidnapping one is basically all plotting with a few lines of actual prose that are totally unrelated, so uh. don't actually really have a snippet to share there hhhhhhhh. but basically, there was this post ages ago that got popular, got a lot of fanfic spin offs actually. i just wanted to do my own take on it. the post is here

to sum up, during the winter solstice episode (the one where the gaang fly into the fire nation to go talk to roku for the first time), zhao locks the water siblings up with zuko instead of chaining them to pillars, and they end up talking, and the sibs learn about how zuko got his scar, and thus the gaang basically adopts zuko.

so it's like. imagine that but with my style dialogue and extra whump cuz im me. here's a bit from my plotting:

commence operation learn more about zuko through various kidnappings. from here on, the formula is zuko chases aang, aang kidnaps zuko :) zuko fucking hates this. each kidnapping reveals a bit more information about zuko's circumstances, and last a lil bit longer than the last. at some point the gaang officially decides that zuko is really just a proxy for their real enemy (the fire lord), and they're gonna try their damnedest to sway zuko out of his mindset, or at the very least not cause any harm to him while they defend themselves. zuko's fuckin confused cuz why are they refusing to fight?? to the point where he gives them opportunities to hit him back in combat just to verify that they're actively choosing only defense. that pisses them off cuz what if they weren't doing that? dude??

i actually have two variants branching off this prompt, the other is technically better plotted? that one's the s1 soltice to boat au. basically the same start, but then the gaang starts camping out on zuko's boat with immunity due to a technicality in a promise zuko made to them. here's some of that plotting cuz i feel bad not having actual writing to share with either of them ahdmhsjg

so we get Bison Time, wherein zuko's still not a fan of anything that's happening, but compared to how he was acting with zhao, he's downright pleasant. which is not to say that he's actually pleasant, he is very much being an angry brat who's like one second away from trying to fight them while still on the bison. the siblings have a lot of questions, because what zhao said about banishment and two years searching and public executions was fucking wack and they need to know why he said that, why zuko fought so hard that he thought burning his mouth as bad as he did was an acceptable trade off. they know why, but they need to hear it.

zuko does not let them hear it. he yells and doesn't answer any questions and demands they put him down or else. bits about the mouth burns obviously bothering him, just cuz im me and im predictable

they end up going to drop him off at his ship cuz his crew wont attack without a command, and zuko's not so dumb to make them attack the bison he's on. they end up making him swear to not do anything until after they fly away

Eventually theyre able to land on zuko's ship without risk of zuko being arrested. zuko keeps his word and doesn't let anyone attack until after they leave, and THEN. aang is a smartass and takes advantage of that by just. not flying away :) so zuko can't do anything, cuz then he'd break his word!! that's pretty fuckin dishonorable!! zuko would like to murder aang.

so yyeah. sorry for the dud ask there.

PART 2!!!! zuko jumping :) is about a suicide attempt :))) sorry agsjshf. basically zuko goes to offer his help to the gaang in s3, they reject him, and he just. has nothing left to do with his life?? like he can't go *back,* and he can't do what he set out to do, so.

viewer discretion advised for this snippet, obviously. like the snippet isn't that part, but still, the context might be enough to want to avoid.

Katara's gaze is worried, and she's always been too good at reading him. "Aang? What's wrong?"

He knows he shouldn't say anything, that Zuko's hardly comfortable letting Aang see his suffering, let alone the rest of his "maybe, sort of, don't want to be but am" enemies. Not when they're the reason he—

Aang starts bawling.

i have no idea if i intend to finish this one. it's just not something im sure i know how to handle appropriately.

[feverinfeveroutfic]

the skeleton key | chapter six: sweet nothin’

“Okay, but promise me that you won’t tell anyone about this.”

It was my lunch break and Alex had gone off elsewhere after our little rendezvous, and I knew in my heart of hearts that I could not hold any of that in. I had to tell someone, and it had to be Marcy, who gazed on at me with utmost intent. She held her lunchtime cup of coffee in between her hands, and she held her face closer to my own as if she wanted this to be the secret of a lifetime.

In a way, it was the secret of a lifetime. I had a moment with Alex in the back room of the bakery. I had a moment with him and yet I had no idea as to how to break it to her, especially since we weren’t technically alone there in the courtyard outside of the bakery. People could overhear us if they were willing.

“How do I put this,” I muttered aloud.

“Just say it,” Marcy insisted with a shrug of her shoulders. She held the cup of coffee down upon her knees, and all I could think about was how Alex touched me back there. It had been a couple of hours since then, and yet I could still feel him. I could still taste him on my lips and hear him in my ears.

So many things that I wanted to say. So many ways in which I wanted to phrase it.

“We had…” I cleared my throat. “…breakfast.”

“Breakfast?”

“Yes. You know.” I showed her the tip of my tongue, and then I gave my hair a slight toss back with the flick of my head.

“Breakfast.”

Her eyes wandered off to the side, and I could see her piecing it together. She then raised her eyebrows, the result of her having figured it out faster than I had initially thought.

“When?”

“Before you showed up. We were in the kitchen.”

Marcy sipped on her coffee, and then she leaned in even closer to me.

“How?” she asked in a hushed whisper.

“How? How what?”

“How did you do that without anyone hearing or seeing you?”

“I’m not sure. Add to that, it just sort of… happened.”

She nibbled on her bottom lip as her eyes scanned over me. If only I knew what she was thinking right at that moment.

“What was it like?”

“Interesting. He was sweet and wanted to please me, but we were in the kitchen, though. I worried about us making too much noise or getting caught up in a cloud of flour.”

“You know, it’s the damnedest thing: I actually think about the two of you dancing on the back of a cloud of flour from time to time.” She sipped on her coffee again, and the mere sight of it made me think of him yet again.

“He apparently has a girlfriend,” I said to her.

“And you slept with him?” She raised her eyebrows at that.

“Yeah.” I paused for a second. “I actually don’t regret it in the least, either. Like… if it was with someone else, I probably wouldn’t have done anything and asked them to leave, but with Alex, it just felt so natural. It felt right, I would say.”

Marcy leaned forward, still with the cup of coffee cradled in between her hands. I could see it in her eyes and her face, the whole thought process of figuring all this out.

“There’s a gap in his heart, Marce. A gap that beckons a certain shape, and I wonder as to how I could fit into it.”

“You do fit into it,” she assured me. “If he’s willing to be with you but reluctant to be with her, then that’s a sign. He won’t commit to her but he feels close to you, though.”

I then shook my head. “I don’t know, now that I really look at you and your face, Marce,” I confessed to her. “You know, in the grand scope of things, I committed adultery.”

“No, he committed adultery. You are merely a role in it. And you are a role in his fighting for himself and his way out of what could be a bad relationship. It kind of makes me want to snoop around on him, and also her, like who is she and what does she do.”

“Big part of me doesn’t want to fuck around with that,” I confessed to her. “I don’t know who she is and I kind of want to just leave it at that.”

“That’s where I come in,” she suggested.

“You?” I was taken aback by that. “Why you?”

“I’m a third party. I’m also hanging out with Eric now, his band mate in his main band who’s known Alex since he was like fifteen.”

“Wow!”

“Yeah. He’s the guy who was at the Stu Hamm gig, the heavyset guy with the long black hair. We just started talking and that was it. He’s like the nicest dude in the world.”

“Nicer than Alex?” I teased her.

“Oh, nobody beats Alex’s sweetness,” she retorted to me with a shake of her head. “But I’ll tell Eric about it and we can think of something together, me and him. I guess he doesn’t like her, either.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah. He told me that Alex is lucky to know us, especially you.”

She sipped on her coffee once again, that time a much bigger drink and I knew she was nearing the bottom of the cup.

“Be the key to his heart, Al. The key to his heart and soul. Be something that you couldn’t be for years before.”

I closed my eyes at that. I couldn’t be like this to the two of them, that was for certain. In fact, this all seemed unreal, all of it completely pure fantasy. This all happened so quickly for me, such that I could scarcely think of anything else as to what to do right then. I had a moment with Alex in the kitchen, and right when his girlfriend tried to come in contact with him as well. I never dreamed that I would be involved in an affair before, but there I was, finding myself knee-deep in one of those right at that moment.

But then again, I wondered if it could in fact be worth it. I could be the resident baker for him and the brief tour in a few days’ time.

“You fill his belly and touch his heart,” she explained to me. “Give him the feeling that you give unto him so unbelievably well.”

“If nothing else, I’ll take to the first few dates as well as the ones down here, too. I’ll make things to go with it all, too.” I licked my lips and ran my fingers through my hair, and I turned my attention over to her.

“I need to draw up some things. I’m going to make this boy so thick with pastry cream, that girl won’t know what’ll hit her.”

“When do they go on tour?” she asked me.

“Starting Thursday and it goes all the way to Valentine’s Day,” I replied. “They start in Seattle, too. And they have two dates down here in L.A. So that right there is three days. Three days to get all this shit right.”

“The Metal Allegiance guys wanna drive us there to the Los Angeles dates,” she told me. “And Eric invited us to his place way up in Sacramento, too.”

“Us? You and me?” I raised my eyebrows at that.

“You and me.”

“And I still have to tell Alex if I’m going to join him on the tour with his jazz band.” I sighed through my nose, as the thought of being the other woman left me reeling but also curious as to where it would all go from there. “Three days to get it all right.” I glanced down at my watch. “And I have to get back to work. I’ll call him and tell him the news, and then I’m on my way to Seattle.”

“That’s the Alison Chains I know,” Marcy remarked, and then she stopped dead in her tracks. “But wait, what about Jerry?”

“What about Jerry?” I echoed her. “He won’t be going on tour for months. I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.”

[sasster]

Restless Afternoon

[Doc for your viewing pleasure]

In the living room, Mallum lay sprawled out on the couch unbothered by the singing of the birds that drew out into the afternoon. It was a dangerous call, a siren song that invited you out into the danger of daylight. The small streaks of light that did force themselves through the filtering curtains and the cracks in between them don’t bother him either, they merely dance along the wall just behind the couch harmlessly. Up to this point, the fuchsia dozes peacefully, a leg strewn across its back haphazardly.

In an instant though, it changes when there is a small creak in the floorboard from deeper in the hive that sends him to full attention. His eyes snap open and, though he does not move, his focus settles acutely on the entrance to the hallway. Someone is moving around in there, uneven footfall that suggests whoever is in there is entirely unsure of where they are going.

For a moment, it is silent again.

Then another creak, followed by a silhouette appearing just inside his line of sight. It moves no more upon settling. They are moving along at an agonizingly slow pace. Surely they didn’t mistake Mallum for the patient type.

“What are you doing, trying to wake me up?” He calls out into the darkness, but something tells him he will not be getting a response. “Can’t sleep?”

He takes the silence that follows as an opportunity to blink the sleep from his eyes, the very homely living room coming into better focus. At the end of the hall where the visitor stands were two shelves of figurines lining the walls on either side and an end table absolutely covered in knickknacks, most of them homemade, with a single shelf underneath dedicated to board games. The clutter would drive Zerkev up a wall, says a fleeting thought.

Now a little more awake, he starts to recognize the figure standing in the hall as Zurven. Which comes across as a surprise, and perhaps a bit concerning, considering that whenever the two of them occupy the same space, Zurven does his absolute damnedest to make sure that becomes past tense as soon as possible.

There is no movement.

“Hey, are you… Are you okay?” He asks as he pulls himself to sit up fully. “Seriously.”

The brown blood enters the living room fully, trailing a hand along the wall as he walks behind the couch. He pauses to stare at the way the muddled sunlight dances across his hand, then he starts playing with it. First he balls his hand into a fist, then he splays it out and wiggles his fingers, tilting his head as he watches the light bend around his fingers.

“Is this real?” He finally speaks, in a voice so small that it can hardly be heard without a bit of effort on Mallums part.

“Is this real?” He echoes, working to keep his voice low despite its incredulity, recalling hearing something about not startling a sleepwalker in the past. Is this sleepwalking? This is definitely beyond his wheelhouse, whatever it is. “Like, are you awake?”

Zurven doesn’t respond, falling silent again as he continues to watch the light mingle with his fingertips.

Not only is this the longest conversation that the two have ever had, it is also the first. For a moment, he watches Zurven stare at his hand. What is he supposed to do with this? He considers going to get one of his partners briefly, surely they will be better company for his absent mind. But, on the other hand, what if something happens while he’s gone?

Mallum heaves a sigh and runs a hand through his hair.

This is far too much responsibility.

“Listen, come sit. I’ll get you some water.”

Suddenly, Zurven clutches his head between his hands, and though he mostly has his back toward him, it’s easy to tell that he is grimacing something awful.

“Get out!” He shouts, desperate and strangled. “There’s no room! Get out!”

He’s crying.

For a second, the seadweller wonders if perhaps his sleepless mind was manifesting how he really felt about the living room being occupied during the mornings. However, there is not a lot of time to dwell on it before Zurven starts to drift toward the front door.

Is he out of his mind?

Mallum is on his feet and over the couch in the same instant, hands up defensively.

“Hey, hey. Where are you going in such a rush? Sun’s out.” He urges, resting his hands on his shoulders from behind just as Zurvens hand ghosts along the edges of the door handle. “Come sit.”

“My head is killing me. There’s no room.”

“What, do you need an aspirin or something?” He asks as he uses his leverage on Zurven to put himself between him and the door, momentarily removing one of his hands to close the latch on the previously unlocked deadbolt just out of the brownbloods reach at the top.

They must be the only people in this place with a deadbolt, this isn’t his first freakout.

Mallum guides Zurven back to the couch, helping him to sit among the mess of blankets and pillows that he left behind. There is a split second where they make eye contact, the smaller troll's eyes shake with uncertainty when they meet.

It’s a little off putting.

“Caffeine’s s’posed to help with a headache, I think. It’ll keep you up the rest of the morning, though.” He offers, glancing at a clock and noting that it’s just a little past midday. With his thumb and index he pinches the bridge of his nose before spreading them out to rub his eyes, then he lets out another sigh. “Fuck, guess I’m up for the day too –”

“Who.. Who am I?” Zurven cuts in, seemingly only registering parts of their interaction, his dead eyed stare drifting beyond Mallums shoulder.

“Zurven?”

His gaze snaps back and they make eye contact again.

“I’m Zurven?”

“Uh, yeah. You’re Zurven. Little fuckin’ uh..” He casts a glance around the room as he speaks. How the hell are you meant to help ground someone you barely know? When his gaze lands on a framed picture of all three of his hosts, a lightbulb goes off in his head. “Real crafty, from what I hear.”

Satisfied that Zurven is settled into the blankets and not in danger of jumping out of the nearest window, he moves to grab the picture off of the wall and one of the obviously homemade figurines off the shelf. Veylin’d mentioned that all of those knickknacks were made by him anyway.

“That’s you.” Mallum says as he puts the picture in one hand and the little cat he’d swiped into the other. “And you made this.”

Zurven stares at the picture for a moment, letting it sit in his lap so he can draw his fingers along the visage he was pretty sure was himself. To his credit, he was right. All the while, the thumb of his other hand caresses the edges of the cat figurine.

Another moment of silence.

“My head hurts..”

“You uh, yeah. You mentioned that. Need a massage or something?” He makes a face, the idea of touching him again, so intimately this time, sits uneasy in his stomach. “What do you need? You can hear me right?”

“There’s no more space..”

“You mentioned that too, don’t know what that’s about though.” Not having the answers, or a clue about what’s going on makes him uncomfortable quickly, he cracks his neck and points towards the kitchen. “Well, since we’re awake, might as well have a snack. You guys have cream cheese, right?”

He didn’t expect an answer, he is not surprised when one does not come, he just shrugs and heads toward the kitchen.

It would be a lie to say it wasn’t a welcome change of scenery. The curtains and blinds on the window over the sink did a much better job of fending off the invasive sunlight and for a moment Mallum is free of the burden of caring after someone that would sooner see him dead.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?” He ponders aloud, sifting his way through the fridge. “Hey Mahkir, your boyfriend tried to fry himself this morning. Stopped him, you’re welcome. Thanks for telling me that was a possibility.”

He sighs. The behavior is clearly stress related, there’s no wondering what the stressor was.

“I just need to get him back to sleep. Back in his own head?” How do you even plan around something like that? This is fucking stupid. Where is the cream cheese?

There is no time afforded to him to wrap his head around these burning questions, the pitter patter of that poor confused troll breaks him from his thoughts and monologue. The footsteps stop at the island in the center of the kitchen.

“Can’t get enough of me, huh? Glad you’re here, new plan.” Mallum says as he turns, gallon of milk in hand, to find Zurven already seated comfortably atop the fixture.  He watches the seadweller as though his voice is the only thing keeping him tethered, eyes wide.

That’s. That’s a lot of responsibility.

Instead of facing that responsibility, he starts to grab the other things he’d need for his new plan: Cinnamon, vanilla extract, and a small pot.

“Never made it myself, but my mom used to make this drink on sleepless mornings,” why is he bothering explaining himself when the man is barely lucid? “Probably do us both some good.”

Once again, to no surprise, Zurven did not give a verbal response. Or any at all. “It’s probably gonna taste like shit, real amateur hour. I’ll make enough so we can both suffer through it.”

[playedwright]

i’m still here with you

a 6x10 coda. (t, 1720 words)

It was, as Eddie’s beginning to realize most of his best things are, a series of events he’s not able to control that lands him at the realization he’s in love with his best friend. And it’s a series of events he can’t control that leads him to finally saying the words out loud. He used to kid himself and say that he didn’t worry about things he couldn’t control; he knows now that it isn’t true.

The point is, Eddie knows now that the road to hell is paved with good intentions, or whatever, and the flipside of that coin tells him that the road to happiness is forged by some of the most difficult things he’s ever had to endure.

He thinks it’s bullshit, if he’s being honest. But it’s life. Eddie is trying his damnedest to come to terms with it.

The first thing that happens is that Eddie falls in love with Evan Buckley so completely and so quietly that he doesn’t notice right away. He doesn’t notice until that all-encompassing love has rewritten every cell in his body, to the point that he doesn’t think he can breathe without loving Buck.

The second thing that happens is that lightning strikes.

The thing is—

The thing is. Eddie wasn’t planning on telling him. What they had is good and is safe and doesn’t risk breaking his son’s or Buck’s heart. Eddie could handle it, if it broke his heart a little bit, because he lived his whole life that way. So he was going to take it to the grave.

Then lightning struck and the love of his life was suspended forty feet in the air but more unreachable than ever.

His plan, his list. The carefully-crafted life he thought he could get away with having if he could balance following his heart and keeping it in line. It all goes to shit in a matter of seconds.

So he really wasn’t going to tell Buck.

It just happened outside of his control.

read the rest on ao3

[vipier]

▸ nostalgia is a mind's trick.

IT HAD BEEN A MISTAKE TO RETURN TO THIS PLACE. the refrain has repeated in tristan patel’s mind over and over and over since the moment he set foot back within the limits of his de facto hometown, ferrix, that backwater bayou bullshit louisiana town he’s avoided for every year of his unexpectedly successful music career. he’d turned tail what felt like a lifetime ago, with the tailpipe of his old chevy truck — the one @k4ssa had helped him reconstruct — belching smoke and memories behind him as he charted his course straight to tennessee, the land of music. he’d hoped it would make him forget his heartache, propel him forward into a life beyond where the four corners of ferrix and everything he knew and loved there could be placed on a shelf high out of reach, to be admired occasionally as some kind of old relic. but he can’t outrun this place, or perhaps more accurately, he can’t outrun that torch which still remains here, like a beacon ever calling him home, some kind of siren song weaving notes of hope into his desperate, delusional brain. he hasn’t expected that torch to be the only person milling around bix’s auto shop when he arrived, prepared to meet brasso, who coincidentally didn’t show up. now he understands why, although the understanding really only heightens the annoyance. never trust a romantic, he reminds himself for what feels like the hundredth time tonight as he stares into his cheap lager.

his second mistake, after coming here in the first place, was agreeing to actually have a drink with cassian andor, just to catch up, as if that wasn’t an objectively insane idea at baseline. they’d both played it so cool at the shop, cool enough that tris still wonders even in this moment if cass is affected at all by seeing him again. and up until moments ago, it had gone — dare he say — remarkably well between them. for a sweet blip in time, for the couple hours that they’d been here tucked across from each other in the back booth of the only real dive in town, it started to feel something like it used to, a glimmer of the past shimmering between them like some kind of mirage. but already, he can see that a mirage is all it was. after all, he knew the moment he drove into town that nothing could ever really go back. he’d left ferrix years ago in that old chevy truck, which remains parked next to his residence in the east tennessee appalachian foothills even today, and returned in the 1969 camaro he’d always coveted with a single suitcase, a guitar, and the weight of a strange legacy about him. ferrix looked almost exactly the same : the methodist church across from their old high school, the one tavern they now sit in as the only real watering hole in town where they both had their first legal drink, the dirty sketchy side streets in the industrial zone where he and cassian used to sneak away to smoke as teenagers, the auto shop bix has now inherited where they once spent hours, the dirt roads stretching out to the wilds where they used to spend warm summer nights in the truck bed near the bayou … it would have felt like stepping back in time, were it not for the stares he attracted even when attempting to fly under the radar. it’s a small town without much population turnover, and somehow, in an outrageous and unlikely turn of events, he’s become its most recognizable former resident. he could feel the whispers begin humming the moment he’d been spotted driving down the main street.

those stares and whispers had followed them here, though they had both clearly done their damnedest to ignore them. people made some effort to be subtle, he supposes, but he can always feel when there’s eyes on him because it makes his skin crawl when he isn’t onstage. for the past hour or so, as the bar slowly filled up, he thought he sensed the rise in tension in cassian as well, although it’s difficult for him to be confident in reading him anymore. once, it took only a glance, a gesture, a word to communicate between them what the other was thinking or feeling. after so many years, after so much heartache, he has to consider that maybe he doesn’t really know cass at all anymore, though the mere thought tears painfully at him. the physical changes in both of them are apparent, both older, more angular, more proportionate. cassian’s even better looking now, if that’s possible, and he hates that it thrills him a little to look at him, to imagine bygones and old possibilities anew, as though any hope were not the most potent poison for his heart, already terminally ill. but there are changes beneath the surface, too, darker ones immediately apparent to tris the way he suspects they are to cass in him. cassian’s sadder, angrier, colder, his guard up even as he manages to smile and talk about both the old days and the new despite the messy way things ended, despite the yelling and screaming and barbs thrown and doors slammed and shards of shattered hearts left all over cass’s front stoop as tris drove away, tires squealing.

the most painful indication to tristan that they are no longer the same is that he knows they’re keeping things from each other. that’s something they never would have done before, in school or after, when they told each other absolutely everything without reservation, friends before lovers, trusting nobody in the world quite as blindly as each other. now, tristan talks about his music ; he leaves out the fact that every love song his last album was written about cassian himself just like the two albums before that, the frustrations he feels about his manager’s continued efforts to introduce pr relationships into his life for exposure, the way a too-big part of him regrets all of it and wants to run away and show up at cassian’s door and hide with him for the rest of his life. cassian talks about working in the shop, about how nothing ever changes, about how it hasn’t so bad after all to stay here ; he doesn’t mention prison or maarva’s death — both of which tris certainly heard about secondhand — or the rumors tris knows must swirl around him each time he releases new music. ( after all, small towns cling to any whisper of scandal with white knuckles, and their fated love story, the way tris climbed from reviled street rat to the pride of ferrix while cass took the opposite trajectory, is certainly an interesting enough topic for sunday brunch. ) those omissions have carved holes in him since the conversation began, no matter how he tried to cling to how almost normal it all felt, and in this moment — when cass delivers that line ( “ nostalgia is a mind’s trick. ” ) with a little extra sharpness, a little extra defensiveness, and tristan watches in his eyes as any part of the wall he momentarily deconstructed flies hastily back up — it all comes crumbling down, leaving tristan’s throat dry and tight and his fingers too tight around his pint glass. he’d ventured to talk about their fishing trips, how much he missed dropping off the map for a day or two without a care in the world, how sometimes he hiked up into the mountains to get away from it all but it was never quite the same — all dangerously close to a confession of missing cassian himself, which should have been the most obvious thing in the world and yet neither of them will acknowledge it. it had clearly been the wrong thing to say.

“ sure, ” tris answers flatly, sipping off his beer, his shoulders drawing in slightly, as though trying to withdraw. “ whatever you need to tell yourself, cassian. you’ve always been phenomenal at that. ” it’s unnecessary, too defensive, and some voice of reason deep inside of him urges him to let it go, to move on before anything escalates. latching on to a single comment and firing back, letting himself get worked up instead of smoothing it over, would lead to nothing productive, his rational mind rightly says. the only purpose it would serve would be to channel some of that anger still living in him, rotting daily in his tainted chest of memories of his childhood, almost all of which are just cassian, cassian, cassian, over and over again. unfortunately, tristan has never excelled at listening to the voice of reason. “ why bother asking me to get a drink with you then, if I’m just some mind’s trick to you at this point? we haven’t seen each other in years, all we have is nostalgia. ” he fights to keep his hand from shaking, grabbing the rest of the well whiskey shot that came with his lager and throwing it back. he’s already four deep, so what can another hurt? perhaps he shouldn’t have had a drink at all and this could have been avoided — but frankly, he’s tortured by enough what ifs in his life that he can’t be bothered to add another. his throat squeezes again and he fights against it with feral determination. the last goddamn thing he’s going to do is let cassian see him shed one more single goddamn tear over him. “ that’s fucked up, you know? I was hoping we could be adults about this and at least try to talk and reconnect and maybe be okay, which is pretty fucking generous considering who broke up with who here, but fuck me, right? that’ll show me for trying to be mature. ”

[fvk-evrythn]

I'm trying my fucking best, and all he can see and cares about is what I haven't done..and it really fucking upsets and pisses me off, it really feels like he doesn't care about how I feel, he just wants me to do the shit he tells me to without question or second thought..

All I did was ask him to simply let the dogs in because I'm trying to sleep for once and they're barking woke me up..ya know what he fucking says 'you won't take care of them, so I don't want them inside'....IM TRYING MY FUCKING DAMNEDEST BEST HERE don't take my inability to do things out on the dogs..all he cares about is what I haven't done, and I'm at the fucking end of my rope with him..

I snapped at him and he didn't even fucking blink, I'm so fucking done with all of this..i just want all of it to be over..

i just want the two people that matter anymore..i kinda wish we met before we all turned to shit.. I love them both so much and I hate that we all have to go through this world and deal with people's shit just cuz we don't fit within their 'social norms' just cuz we're not cishet assholes who take others down like they are..

[abiik]

"you came into my life like a gift" what the FUCK

[bajisbabe]

[author’s note] song slap hard ASF, song so good it pisses me off—🎼😡 y’all better listen to it, too

# ‘CAUSE I WANT YOU TOO

“If you say I’m on your mind, you gon’ need to spend more time to prove it.”

drunk-ex!baji comes to your home

warnings: kissing, drunk!Baji, arguing, Baji is kind of mean, cussing, Baji is 23 here, angst ig.

synopsis: Your ex, Baji, gets drunk and comes over. You try to turn him away because you’re afraid to admit that he wasn’t at fault for the breakup, but he doesn’t leave.

song: say it (mashup) by tory lanez and sevyn streeter

You hadn’t thought twice when opening the door. It was late in the night, and you just wanted to answer the door and get it over with; to stop the loud banging that just wouldn’t go away. You turn on the table lamp near the couch as you make your way into the living room. Tucking yourself into a robe, you turned the knob and opened the door, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you asked groggily, “Who is it—?”

Long hair, yellow eyes, and bruised knuckles with a hair tie around the wrist. Your ex, Baji Keisuke.

For a split second, you wondered what you should do. But without thinking it through, you clutched the door and attempted to slam it in his face. But he shoved his foot in the door, smiling lopsidedly at you as he pressed in further. He gradually worked his way into your home with ease.

You felt a strange sense of fear in your stomach. You hadn’t seen Baji in months after your breakup. Although he argued with you when you two broke up, he hadn’t bothered to contact you since. You thought he had moved on, but here he was. Stumbling into your living room and taking a seat on the couch, his head lolling as he let out an obnoxiously loud sigh.

You watched him for what felt like an entirety, subconsciously flinching whenever he made a move. You thought to call the police, but to get your phone you would have to make your way past him. And you didn’t have the guts to try.

He took a moment to glance around your apartment, looking somewhat confused. You vaguely remember having thrown out quite a few items when the two of you split, so your place must have looked different to him now.

He slowly turned his attention to you, his expression blank as his eyes raked over your face. He mumbled something under his breath as he took a swig from the beer bottle that you hadn’t noticed before. It was practically empty, as he shook the last couple of drops from it into his mouth. Your brows furrowed, you never knew Baji to be much of a drinker. He let out a burp, smiling at you when he finally noticed that you had been watching him the entire time.

“Miss me?” He said.

You slowly shook your head, backing up a couple steps. But there was nowhere to go. You were inches away from colliding with the front door. And you didn’t even think of running, knowing that he could easily catch up with you even in a drunken state.

“Baji,” you started firmly, trying your damnedest to remain cordial. “I think you should leave.”

“Oh, you think?” He spat, turning and twisting the bottle in his hand. Watching with vague interest how the dim light catches on the glass. “That’s funny.” He lets out a crude chuckle, glaring at you.

You merely stared back at him, not sure of what to say. You two didn’t end on good terms, that’s for sure.

“Did’ja think when you broke up with me for no—fucking—reason?” He punctuates each word with a tap of the butt of his beer bottle on the armrest of your couch. “Hmm, (Y/N)?”

“Baji, please.” You frowned, crossing your arms and trying to appear unafraid. But your hands are shaking like crazy. “You should just go—”

“S’not my name.” He mumbles. He looks at you again. But this time, there is no malicious glint in his eyes. He is merely looking at you and nothing more. Not glaring, or leering. Just looking. “You know that’s not m’name.”

“Yes, it is.” You say quietly. “That is your name. And now, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, please—”

“Just stop it.” He says. He stands slowly, noticing immediately the way your shoulders hunch and you put your hands up as though you expect him to attack. He frowns at the sight, sucking his teeth as he approaches you steadily. “You know that’s not my name. You know my name… just say it.”

His large hand comes up to cup your face, you pull away. Your fingers fidgeting as you hesitate, thinking that you should push him away. Not that he would budge even if you did.

“Please, (Y/N).” His voice is soft and low. And he’s looking at you like you’re the most precious thing in the world. You haven’t seen those eyes—and that look—in so damn long. “Please.”

“Baji, you need to leave.”

“That’s not my name and you know it.” There’s a subtle bite in his tone, but his eyes are still soft. “Now, could you please just say it?”

“Baji,” you breath, clasping your hands in a pathetic attempt not to lose your cool. “I’m asking you to leave—”

“M’not leavin’ ‘til you gimme what I want.” He reaches forward, much faster than you can comprehend. You sputter and grab hold of his wrists, trying to pull him off of you. But he doesn’t waver. His palms squeezing your cheeks, a subtle ache in your jaw at the sudden pressure. “Scratch that, I wanna kiss. Gimme a kiss.”

You try to pull back, but he merely follows you. His lips closing in on yours while you shake your head, eyes blown wide as you desperately yank his arms. “Stop it! Baji, stop it!”

You felt scared. You had never felt this way with Baji before. Somewhere, in the deepest depths of your mind, you were terrified that he would win you over yet again. That’s the last thing you wanted. You and him broke up because you became known as his girlfriend and nothing more. His personality and presence was so big that it completely swallowed yours.

You just wanted to be your own person. And he didn’t understand that then. You didn’t expect him to understand now either. So you never bothered to mention it, not even during the argument that ended your relationship.

You had left him without a spoken reason.

“S’Keisuke. Not Baji… You know that.” He says quietly, his lips a breath away from yours, your head still trapped between his calloused hands. “Kiss me. Do it now.”

“Get off of me,” you cry.

You should’ve run. You know you should’ve. You should’ve at least tried. But you didn’t. Your thoughts ran rampant, and you found that your own subconscious was ruthlessly blaming you for this situation. Thinking that you didn’t really want to break up with Baji, and that you just came up with a reason out of the blue. Baji was a good boyfriend, after all. But it was more so about how you felt like an accessory to him, rather than an equal.

He was just so important, and popular, and—just everything.

You knew it wasn’t his fault. You just needed some time to yourself to figure out who you were, and it ended up being months rather than a mere break. Now that you knew your worth, you didn’t have the guts to come back to him and tell him how you really felt. You didn’t have the guts to bring a genuine conclusion to it.

You had unknowingly hurt yourself by not voicing your opinion. And you didn’t know it yet, but you also hurt him just as much by ending your relationship without spoken reason. The more you thought about it, the sicker you felt. You just wanted him out of your home, so that you had a second to think before you made a decision you would regret.

“What’s your problem!” You shout, squirming in his grasp. “You’re drunk! Just go home!”

“Yeah?” He bites back. “Duh! And guess whose fault that is?”

You blink, your struggling momentarily halted. Whose fault…?

“S’yours, if you’re wondering.” His voice is quieter than before. His eyes are boring into yours. “I don’t drink—didn’t. Not ‘til…” He trails off, but you know what he’s getting at. And your heart shatters at the realization.

He notices your expression, it���s conflicted but he misunderstands. From his perspective, your blank stare is degrading; like you’re looking down on him. He doesn’t like that at all.

“Like you’re doing any better!” He says, eyes narrowing. “You’ve got problems too, I can see it!”

You don’t dare to speak, knowing that you might say something that’ll only make matters worse.

“You don’t think I saw that shit?” He says, glaring at you. He tugs you just a little closer and you feel your resolve crack some in return. “The way you flinched—like I was gonna hurt you or something. I wouldn’t do that, you know that!”

“Just stop it!” You rasp, your hands clutching his.

God, you don’t want to blurt out the real reason behind your breakup. After hearing the shit he’s put himself through, you don’t have the guts to tell him that it was nothing he did that caused the breakup.

Tears are brimming in your eyes as you stare back at his frowning face. “Stop it, Kei—”

There’s a moment of silence. So silent that your ears ring. He is no longer looking at you with that hard expression. His eyes are wide, brows raised, lips down-turned almost in a pout but not quite. “Kei?” He repeats quietly under his breath, eyes lingering on your face. He can feel your skin warm under his touch. And the brief sound of your name on his tongue has his heart beating hard. “Go on… Say it.”

“Don’t wanna,” your lips tug down, the backs of your eyes burning. You were gonna cry.

“Say it,” he releases his grip on your face. His hand comes up to wrap around the back of your neck, his thumb rubbing over your skin. He can even feel your pulse thrumming beneath the flesh. “Say it, and I’ll go… Promise.”

You don’t believe him and rightfully so. You shouldn’t believe him. And even still, you find his name rolling off your tongue. You think at the very least, you can give him that. After your breakup caused him so much hurt, and you still hadn’t given him a good reason.

“Again,” he whispers. His eyes never leave yours. “Say it again.”

“I can’t—”

“You can.” He presses, his grip tightening. You can feel him pulling you in; pulling you closer.

“Please, Baji—”

“You know my name.” He says, his voice lacking the strength from before. “S’only been a couple of months, you couldn’t have forgotten already.”

You see the sad look in his eyes and you break. Repeating his name just like he asked of you. And you don’t even get a chance to tell him the real reason behind your breakup as he places a chaste kiss on your lips.

Just one, then two, then three. Each longer than the last. And his grip is so strong that you couldn’t pull away even if you wanted to. But you don’t want to, and he knows it.

He pulls away slowly, his eyes racking over your face again. He looks at you like he’s afraid he’ll forget what you look like. Or that if he looks away, you’ll disappear.

And he knows he’s being selfish by asking you again and again. But he can’t stop himself, having not heard your voice in months. His teeth biting at his lower lip as he runs his tongue over the flesh, trying to remember your taste.

“Can you…” he pauses, knowing damn well that he’s being selfish and stringing you back in. He knows he’s gonna win you over. He just knows it because he knows you. And he just can’t bring himself to stop. “Can you say it...just one more time?”

[nomsugayoongi]

Make up/Make Out!

Pairing: Jungkook X OC fem

Warnings: It's just smut. Pure smut. 🔞

A/N: Written and edited on a phone so please forgive any mistakes. Suggestions for more are very welcome and also thoughts. Let me know what you think.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Am I good to finish for the night?"

She'd been on her feet all day. As make up and hair assistant to one of the most popular groups on the planet, her job consisted of being ready at any moment, day or night, to get the guys of BTS camera ready. Today had been a particularly heavy day. Photoshoots and zoom interviews. You would have thought a global pandemic would have slowed her workload right down but apparently not. The boys were just as busy as ever, determined to remain a presence even when the world was falling apart.

"I'm not sure actually. I think one of the guys is maybe doing a live. Shouldn't take long, just a touch up. Let me go check." Another assistant hurried off, leaving her in what had been dubbed the "ready room" She sighed, sorting the array of make up products strewn on the counter into each boys respective make up bag. 7 individual colour palettes. 7 skin tones. 7 favoured brands. She'd been doing it long enough now that she didn't have to think anymore. Jimin's chapstick in one bag. Hobi's concealer in another. She was tired and frustrated. 16 months of a global lockdown meant she was now living in the guys home in the staff wing. Apart from video calls, she hadn't seen anyone and wasn't able to leave really. On the odd occasion when she did have to accompany the guys somewhere, she was subjected to regular covid tests. It was all just a little overwhelming. Like much of the planet, she was beginning to feel a little stir crazy.

The door opened and the assistant from earlier poked her head round. "Jungkook is doing a live. He's on his way down now. Can you handle it or do you want me to stay?" She could see the hopeful look in her colleagues eye that she could go for the night. Sighing inwardly, she nodded. "I'm good. Enjoy the rest of the night. I'll see you in the morning." She said, faking a smile. An immediate thankful grin was aimed in her direction before her co-worker quickly dissapeared. She sighed again, picking out Jungkooks bag and rifling though it. A V Live wasn't as intense as actual interviews. She'd maybe need to touch up his foundation and neaten his hair. With any luck she could be done in 10 minutes.

She was just about finished setting up when the door opened again. She turned with a welcoming smile but frowned a little as he walked in. His hair was wet, a towel still slung around his shoulders, face completely bare. "Have you just showered?" She muttered. He nodded, strolling over to his favourite chair and slumping in it. "Yeah. I wasn't going to bother with a live but it's been ages and I miss ARMY. Plus I feel kind of restless tonight." He explained. She nodded, a little frustrated that she'd have to entirely redo his face and hair. So much for 10 minutes. But it was her job after all. "So what are we doing?" She questioned, walking up behind him and leaning on the chair, a hand either side of his shoulders. He shrugged, looking at her through the mirror in front of him. "Whatever you want. Just make me look ok for the live." He replied. She chuckled slightly, studying him through the mirror. "You already look ok for the live. But I'll dry your hair. It's freezing in the office. Can't have you catching a cold." She smiled. He chuckled, pulling his phone out of the pocket of his baggy cargo pants and loading up a game. She smiled a little more. Typical Jungkook.

She got to work, removing the damp towel from around his shoulders, tossing it aside and reaching for the hairdryer. It didn't take long to dry. His hair was fine but he had a lot of it and luckily he didn't bleach it into the ground like some of his band mates so it was pretty healthy. Once dried, it was soft and shiny, falling prettily around his face. "Want it straightening?" She asked, digging her fingernails between the dark brown strands at the crown of his head and ruffling it slightly. His hair naturally had a slight wave to it. He had dropped his phone into his lap and his eyes were closed. He liked the slight scratch of her fingernails. It felt nice. "Hmm?" He muttered. "Oh..yeah. Straighten it." He opened his eyes with a sigh. "Are you alright?" She asked softly. "Yeah. Bit of a headache. The scratching was nice." He replied, a small smile playing around his lips. She chuckled, setting down the hairdryer and diving her fingers into his hair, raking her nails lightly across his scalp. Head massage wasn't exactly part of her job description but she had a soft spot for Jungkook. Her tummy filled with warmth as his head to lolled forward and he grumbled softly, eyes closing again. She couldn't help but smile, pressing her fingers to his temples and rubbing in slow circles. "Do you need painkillers?" She asked softly. He grumbled again but shook his head a little. "Nah. Already feels a bit better." He muttered. "Tension headache?" She questioned. "Probably." She diverted her rubbing to his hairline, digging her thumbs into the nape of his neck. His head rolled heavily against her hand, a relieved moan slipping past his parted lips. She watched him in the mirror, her stomach churning as she studied him. Reminding herself that she was working, she reluctantly dropped her hands, reaching for the straighteners. "So... we're straightning." She muttered. He cleared his throat, correcting his posture where he'd slumped down the chair. "Yeah." He nodded.

She ran the flat irons through his hair, alternating between looking at what she was doing and glancing at him through the mirror. "What are we doing with your face?" She questioned, applying a conditioning spray to his already silky soft hair, just so that the heat from the straighteners didn't make it frizzy. "Just make me look good." he said with a shrug. She grinned, picking up a clean powder brush, she spun him round to face her and booped the end of his nose with the brush. "Done" she smiled. He laughed, nose crinkling adorably. "You literally didn't do anything." She shrugged, placing the brush back on the counter. "You don't need anything doing." She said simply. He rolled his eyes, his ears turning pink. "I look like shit." He huffed. She was silent for a second, eyes flicking across his face. His hair was perfect, shiny and soft, skimming his large brown doe eyes. His nose was cute. His lips were full and though slightly chapped, kind of perfect too. Without foundation to soften his features, his jawline looked sharper. His skin was pretty good, the lack of make up making the cute moles dotted around his face clearer. The scar on his right cheek was more noticable but it gave his face character. "You really, really don't." She replied.

He shuffled shyly, fiddling with the phone abandoned on his lap. "I do. I look...plain. I can't go on camera like this." He muttered. She sighed, perching on the back of the sofa next to her. "Jungkook, you couldn't look plain if you tried. Trust me, if your ARMY see you like this they will lose their damn minds." She sighed, folding her arms across her chest. He glanced up at her, eyebrow hitching curiously. "See me like what?" He muttered. She shrugged, feeling somewhat uncomfortable at the things she didn't seem to be able to stop herself from saying. "Like...you. As you are. You've got that...thing...going on." She huffed. "What thing?" She rolled her eyes. "You know what thing. You give off heavy boyfriend energy. Especially when you look like this." She mumbled. He laughed, looking at her more intently. "Boyfriend energy?" She chuckled too, her face feeling hotter than she'd like. "Yeah. You know, that whole duality thing. It's cute. But it's sexy too." She babbled. "You think I'm sexy?" His eyebrows raised, his lips fighting a smile. "As your make up artist, I don't think anything." She chuckled. "And as you?" He questioned. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to look into his pretty eyes. "As me? I think you're one of the most confusing men I've ever met." She replied. His gaze was intense, forcing her to speak even though she wasn't actually sure she wanted to. "Confusing how?" He asked quietly.

She thought for a minute then shrugged. "Confusing in the way you play absolute havok with a woman and don't even seem to notice that you're doing it. You're such a contradiction. You're sweet and cute and warm. You're...soft and cuddly. The kind of guy who you want to snuggle and play with his hair as he sleeps. But you also have the ability to absolutely blow that out of the water and turn into this whole other creature. This...sinfully hot, dripping in sex appeal, gyrating menace. And you seem to be able to flip from one to the other and back in literally seconds. You're hormonal whiplash guy. One minute you wanna cuddle him, the next you wanna fuck him senseless, then back to cuddling. Confusing. But either way, whether you're cuddle guy or sexy guy, you're compeltely disarming. Captivating even." She paused, blushing at the heated expression on his perfect face. "So...you don't have to worry about what ARMY think. However you rock up, you're good." She finished with an awkward shrug. "Anyway, if you want me to do your face properly for the camera I will." She said, standing up off the back of the sofa and heading for her make up brushes.

"Woah. Hang on a minute. You can't just say all that and then pretend you didn't. Are you attracted to me?" He asked, smirking slightly, sexy guy definitely rearing his head. She tried her damnedest not to look at him. "Umm...you're attractive, yeah." She shrugged. "That's not what I asked." He hummed. "We've been in lockdown for 16 months. Everyone's attractive right now." She joked, trying to divert the gaze currently burning a hole through her professionalism. "You keep dodging the question." He pushed. She sighed, dropping the beauty blender she was currently picking apart and turning to him. "Yeah, I'm attracted to you. A large portion of the globe is attracted to you." She shrugged. "Yeah but I wasn't asking the globe. I asked you." He replied. "Well I answered. So are we doing your make up or no? It's late." She sighed, flustered. The way he was looking at her made her squirm. Curiously, but with something darker going on behind those doe eyes. "I don't know if I'm attracted to you. I've never thought about it." He muttered. She swallowed hard, looking everywhere but at him. "I didn't ask." She shrugged. "Yeah but after what you said, I can't just ignore it." He sat back in the chair, studying her. Her stomach twisted nervously. "You're cute. Short. I like that. You have nice hair. And your eyes are really pretty." He said absently, as though not actually talk to her, just assessing. She shuffled uncomfortably, her cheeks burning. "I like you. I'm just...not good at this sort of thing. I started training for BTS when I was 15. It didn't leave me a whole lot of time or opportunity to figure out the whole dating thing." He said, a hint of shyness dripping into his voice. "Oh please, I've seen you on stage. You can flirt like a pro." She scoffed. "Flirt, yeah. When it's empty. I can do it when I know it's not going anywhere. Flirting on stage isn't real. I'm not good when it is real." He shrugged. "I dunno...maybe we should...kiss..or something." He babbled. She gawped at him stupidly. "Easiest way to figure out what's going on here." He said, another shrug indicating his nerves. She swallowed, nodding slightly. "Ok." She didn't even really think about the answer, it just fell out.

He stood, shaking his hair out if his eyes, alternating between jamming his hands in his pockets and taking them out again. He was too cute. A kind of deer in the headlights look about him. The confidence he exuded on stage was nowhere near. He looked nervous. He took a few steps, closing the gap between them. Her heart was racing. He kept his hands limply by his sides as he inched forward, his eyes closing, a slight hitch of breath as his nose bumped hers then gently he pressed his lips to hers. His lips were warm and soft with just a hint of rough where they were chapped. Her heart rate doubled pretty much instantly, even at the lingering, closed mouthed peck. They weren't even really kissing but her stomach fluttered wildly. He shuffled a little closer, catching her bottom lip then the top lip then slowly opening his mouth a little more. His hands moved, running his fingertips up her arm, to her shoulder then resting on her neck, his thumb stroking her jaw. The other hand sat comfortably on her hip, pulling her into him just a little more. She sighed against his lips, her insides going nuts as her arms snaked around his narrow waist. Cautiously, he licked at her top lip, gauging her reaction. She opened up, allowing him to slide his tongue past her lips. A quiet involuntary moan escaped her. He tasted of sweetness and biscuit and she idly wondered if he'd been eating Pocky recently. The hand sat against her hip gripped a little harder. He exhaled heavily through his nose as his tongue caressed hers. He hummed against her mouth, withdrawing his tongue but still taking her lips in deep, lingering kisses, almost like he couldn't quite force himself to stop. With a long sigh, he pulled back, just enough to seperate their lips but still close enough for his nose to nudge hers. "Ok. Yeah. Definitely feel it." He whispered. Her eyes opened, her head fuzzy as she gazed at him with a mixture of affection and desire. She didn't even notice that he was looking at her the same way. He ran his fingers through her hair, a smile breaking onto his kiss reddened lips. She giggled dopily, forehead against his, heart skipping a beat at his responding giggle.

"Don't you need to go do a live?" She grinned. He shook his head, fingers entwining with hers. "It can wait till tomorrow. I just want to keep kissing you." His lips were on hers again before she could even process his reply. She moaned softly, melting against him. He felt sturdy and warm, he smelled amazing. He tasted delicious. He was almost too good. Her head swam at the feel of his tongue in her mouth, exploring, licking and tasting, possessing. He was literally making her weak at the knees. Her grip on him tightened, clutching at his steady frame to keep herself upright, genuinely worried that the depth of his heady kiss was going to send her slithering to the floor. She was just about managing to keep a tentative grasp on her composure until his lips left hers and started fluttering along her cheek, stopping just below her ear to suck the delicate skin there. A shiver bolted down her spine, her head rolling aside to give him more access. He moaned quietly against her neck, teeth nipping her skin. She gasped, another shiver errupting through her. "Damn it Jungkook" she whispered. She didn't know what she was damning. Everything? Nothing? It just seemed to be the only words she could claw from her addled brain. He bit a little harder, instantly soothing the slight burst of pain with a slow, tender lick of his soft, warm tongue. Her fingers knotted through his hair, dragging his head back so she could attack his mouth. He groaned against her lips, pressing his hips against her. She pulled his head back, her eyes locking on his. "You need to stop. I'm too horny for this shit." She panted, kissing along his jawline. He bit his lip, hand cradling the back of her head as her lips and tongue skimmed across his throat. "I can do something about that if you want." He murmured. She moaned again, temptation burning hot at her core. "Fuck" she hissed. He pulled her back from the assault she was carrying out on his neck. "Do you have a room mate?" He asked, brown eyes smouldering. She shook her head. "Where's your room?"

She could hardly believe how her night was turning out as she tried to make it to her room with some semblance of normality. Especially with Jungkook in tow. Luckily it was late enough that nobody was still wandering around in the hallways so the fact that she looked like she was about to eat him wasn't an issue. Arriving at her room, she'd barely closed the door behind them when he was back on her, pressing her into the door, lips on hers, hands wondering to her shirt, stopping the kiss barely long enough to pull it over her head before his tongue was back in her mouth. His hands agaisnt the door, either side of her head, boxing her in as he held her still with his body. She could already feel the uncomfortable ache between her thighs, heat pooling inside her making her squirm. How the fuck could he get her so riled up just by kissing her?

His lips moved down, back to the spot on her neck he seemed to enjoy biting, his teeth nipping and sucking once again. He was going to leave a mark and she absolutely didn't care. She hoped he did. She hoped he left several. If it meant he didn't stop, she'd happily have him suck and bite his initials into her skin if he wanted. His lips travelled further down, hands lifting off the door to cup her boobs, pushing them up and groaning in his throat as he licked languidly down her cleavage. He used his thumbs to tease her bra clad nipples, nipping and sucking at the swell of her ample breasts. She pushed his hair back, staring at him opened mouth as he moved her bra aside and wrapped his lips round her nipple. She moaned softly, biting her lip. He sucked deeply, the pull travelling straight down to her pussy, causing her clit to throb needily. His fingers tugging and rolling her other nipple. She wriggled desperately against the solid wooden door. He switched sides, giving the other nipple the same attention, his mouth felt hot and wet, tongue flicking quickly then slowly, then sucking then nibbling. Each gesture making her pussy clench.

She didn't know how much more she could take. The needy ache was becoming overpowering. Luckily he seemed to sense it, his hands slipping down, flicking the button of her jeans open. He eyed her quickly, requesting permission which was granted with an almost frantic nod. He smirked, hooking his fingers into her jeans and pushing them over her hips teasingly slowly. Her underwear went with them, balling together round her ankles. She couldn't even think enough to kick them off. He stood, leaning against the door with one hand, his eyes on hers as his fingers trailed lightly across her stomach then down, grazing her inner thigh. His smirk was torturous, knowing exactly what she needed and purposefully grazing but giving no relief. "Don't be a brat." She panted. He chuckled darkly, his fingers circling her bellybutton, the tickle making her abdomen clench. "This is what I was talking about. The duality. I like you more when you're being a bunny." She hissed. He laughed again. "No you don't." He muttered, pressing a searing kiss to her lips. "You've waited 16 months. What's an extra two minutes?" He smirked, his fingers once again playing around her inner thigh. "Jungkook I swear to god, I'm just gonna do it myself in a minute." She growled. He rolled his eyes, chuckling breathlessly. "Ok ok. Jesus."

He licked his lips, his smirk faltering as his fingers grazed her slit. "Fuck, you're already wet." He moaned. "Duh, I've been wet since you kissed me in the other room." She whispered. He bit his lip, groaning deeply, his fingers pushing through her folds, finding her clit quickly and circling. The ache tightened in her belly, her knees buckling. He dipped his fingers down against her hole, smearing her own sticky liquid around his fingertips before moving back up to her clit, his index and ring fingers parting her folds while his middle finger gently rubbed her sensative bud. Her breath shuddered, eyes closing as she swallowed thickly. Her head fell back, banging against the door. She was so turned on that his touch almost burned, so sensative already. He maintained a steady pace with his fingers, dipping back down occasionally to recover them in the fluid now leaking from her hole to make the glide of his fingertips smoother. She could barely breath. The stimulation of his careful touch on her clit was almost unbearable, causing the needy ache of her pussy to increase rapidly. She needed to be stretched and filled, her thoughts lost in how his fingers would feel slipping in and out of her greedy hole. Or better yet, his hard cock. She groaned, eyes rolling back as she felt his lips back on her neck. She gripped at his hair, inhaling through clenched teeth. "Jungkook, I need you to fuck me." She whined. He moaned, biting her neck again. "I'm going to. Just not yet." He muttered. She growled pathetically, writhing against the door as he maintained the steady torture with his fingers. She couldn't keep her hands still, grabbing at his hair and his shoulder and the door frame as the pleasure built from a subtle warmth to a searing heat, creeping though her limbs and making her weak. "Fuck...I can't.." she choked, not actually knowing what the end of the statement was. Can't stand it. Can't function. Can't breath. Can't wait. The gradual build of her orgasm was now rushing towards her with alarming speed, every careful brush of his fingertips nudging her closer. "Ahhh. Jungkook...fuck" she huffed. He smirked, lifting his head from her neck to kiss her.

It didn't fit. She expected him to ravage her mouth. He didn't. He kissed her softly, his tongue dancing across her lips, barely any pressure, his free hand coming up to stroke her cheek. Emotional whiplash man in full effect. The action of his fingers was making her wild but his kiss was sweet and soothing. It felt so strange to be kissed that way while being held on the very edge of an orgasm. The way he kept the same steady pace was vicious. She wanted him to speed up, go harder, follow the flow of her building release but he didn't. The slow build drew out her pleasure, his pace maddening. A rush of heat flooded through her, stilling her lips against his mouth, making her gasp for air as every muscle in her body constricted. She could hear her own pleasured wails but they didn't sound like any kind of noise she'd ever made before. Her eyes screwed shut, back arching off the door as her orgasm hit violently, heat coursing from her core and seeping though the rest of her body. She panted helplessly, spots dancing in front of her eyes, her muscles slowly realising. When her knees went, he had an arm around her waist to hold her up. "I've got you." He whispered, kissing her jawline softly. His fingers slowed as she began to shudder, instead moving to trace light, ticklish patterns on her thigh. Her head flopped heavily against his shoulder, fingers gripping at his back like he was the only thing keeping her in one piece. She didn't even notice him moving her until she felt herself sinking heavily into her bed. He laid beside her, chin resting in his hand as he smiled, using the other hand to move her hair off her face. She was quiet for a few minutes, slowly calming her ragged breathing down, enjoying the blissful tingles fading out. When her eyes could focus enough, she looked at him and whined quietly, her heart thumping painfully. He was beyond beautiful. A shaky hand lifted to brush a few strands of dark brown hair away from his pretty eyes. "Wow" she whispered. He chuckled, staring back at her. "You can sleep if you want to. I don't mind." He said softly, noticing her still dozy expression. She shook her head. "Don't wanna sleep. Just need a minute." She muttered. "Kiss me."

He did so immediately. She felt liked she'd kissed him so much yet it wasn't even nearly enough. He was the kind of guy you could lose hours of every day just attached to his face. It was something she would never tire of. Her fingers ran through his hair, sighing against his perfect lips. In her post orgasm haze, she just felt soft for him. Everything about him was so enticing, the pull of him overwhelming. She wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. She gripped him tighter than she needed to, suddenly afraid of what would happen when the night was over. He broke the kiss, frowning at her slightly. "What's wrong?" He whispered, fingers trailing across her swollen lips. She kissed his fingertips, holding onto his wrist as she looked at him. "I just...don't want this to end." She muttered. He smiled, rolling his eyes at her. "It doesn't have to." He said simply. She relaxed a little, returning his smile, then pulling him in for yet more kissing.

The kiss became heated pretty quickly. She'd already had an orgasm but he hadn't. He nipped at her bottom lip, hands roaming all over her. He was pretty notorious for his lack of patience and while he had decidedly more restraint in the bedroom, he wasn't a saint. He'd been hard the entire time he'd been fingering her and while he did get off on watching her pleasure, he was beginning to feel needy. He pushed his hips into her thigh, searching for some friction. She pulled away from his lips with a sullen pout. "Why do you still have so many clothes on?" She whined. He chuckled, pushing himself up into a sitting position and shrugging. "Because you haven't taken them off yet." He replied. She sat too, batting her eyelashes and kissing the end of his nose. "Well that's pretty shitty of me. I'm sorry." She joked, pulling his shirt over his head. She'd wanted to be cute and playful but Jungkook without clothes was no joke. She groaned, eyes lingering on his sculpted chest and tight abs. "Jesusfuck" she muttered, broad shoulders tapered down to a narrow waist, the dark ink circling his right arm contrasted strongly against his skin. She bit her lip, oogling him shamelessly.He chuckled, feeling a little bashful. She trailed her fingertips down his chest, her lip caught between her teeth as they skimmed past his belly button and down to the waistband of his cargo pants. With a flick, the button popped open and he lifted his ass to help her pull them off. She'd barely got them to his thighs when she let out another groan. He was hard. His cock straining against his black boxers, a wet spot at the head where pre-cum had soaked through the material. She abandoned her mission to remove his pants, feeling strangely compelled, almost like she had no control as she leant forward, peeling the tight band of his underwear back just enough to lick the head of his cock. He let out a soft yelp, obviously not expecting the sudden jolt of pleasure. "Shit" he whispered, his hands scooping her hair back from her face as he straightened out his legs and lifted his hips. His boxers were pushed down enough to free him from them. She moaned quietly, her tongue gliding from the base of his dick to the head, following the thick vein that spanned his length. "Fuck sake. Even your cock is pretty." She said huskily, illiciting a moan from him. Her fingers wrapped around his shaft, steering the head towards her lips. He watched, entranced as she slowly swirled her tongue over the head, gathering the sticky pre-cum then retreating back into her mouth, grumbling softly with closed eyes as she tasted him. When her eyes opened and fixed on his, his cock throbbed in her hand. With her hair falling around her face, her darkened, swollen lips parted, her eyes glassy, pupils blown, she looked hungry, lowering herself back down to lick the end of his cock again. He hissed, hands gripping tighter in her hair. "I want to fuck your mouth." He panted. She groaned, dropping his cock, it smacked against his belly as he kicked off his cargo pants furiously.

Once off, she threw a leg over his hips sitting across him as her hands tangled in his hair she she caught his lips in a fierce kiss. He groaned into her mouth, he could feel the heat of her wet pussy against his shaft. It took everything he had not to adjust the angle slightly and slide into her. He wanted to desperately but he also wanted to draw the night out as much as he could. He wanted her cock drunk and helpless by the time he'd finished. He could feel her wriggling, trying to rub herself against his cock as she kissed him. He moaned, shifting his position slightly so that his cock slid between her folds, gently rocking so that the head grazed her clit. She whined, breaking the kiss, her head flopping agaisnt his shoulder as she bucked against him. "Fuck me." She whimpered. He smirked, catching her earlobe between his teeth and nibbling softly. "Uh uh" he teased, still undulating his hips to rub his shaft against her clit. "Need you to help me first." He forced her head up, nipping her bottom lip between his thumb and index finger. "Need to fuck this pretty little mouth." He grunted. She moaned, nodding. He smirked, guiding her off him. She slid off the bed, falling to her knees and opening her mouth expectantly. He scrambled over, threading his fingers through her hair as he gripped his throbbing dick and guided it past her lips. He felt her warm, wet mouth engulf him and shuddered, his head falling back, his hips beginning to move slowly, thrusting his cock in and out of her soft mouth. She placed her hands on his muscular thighs, watching his face crease in pleasure as she let him literally fuck her mouth. Her tongue slithered all over his thrusting cock, her mouth filling with saliva as the head hit the back of her throat and she tried to swallow the urge to gag. She stayed still, feeling the needy ache between her thighs grow almost out of control as he used her mouth. His hands tugged at her hair, controlling her movement, sinking his cock deeper and deeper into her throat. Her eyes started to water, gasping for air between his thrusts as he lost himself. His moans initially breathy and quiet were getting louder and higher in pitch. His slow, methodical thrusts were getting quicker, more desperate as he babbled words of praise between moans. "Fuck. So good. Just like that. Yes. Yes." She felt his thighs tense, his muscles rigid. "Fuck, gonna cum. Don't wanna stop. Don't wanna stop." He whined. She moved one hand from his thigh, cupping his balls and squeezing softly. He mewled in surprise and suddenly she felt the spurts of hot cum fill her mouth. He shuddered viciously, hands pulling her hair painfully but unable to relax his clenched fists. She continued to gently run her tongue across the head of his dick, feeling it pulse and twitch as he emptied in her throat. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." He whimpered, his grip loosening. He'd barely stopped cumming when he untangled his hands and dropped down to his knees in front of her. "Are you alright?" He asked between gasps of air. She swallowed the mouthful he'd just given her and smiled. He'd literally just cum and his first action was to check on her. "I'm fine" she whispered, pulling his head against her shoulder where he crumpled pathetically, still panting and whining softly at the aftershocks of pleasure running though him. She ran her fingers through his hair, smiling. He was sweaty and the perfectly straightened hair she'd given him was now wavy and damp.

He allowed himself a few minutes to recover, his legs shaky and his lungs burning for air as the warm, tingly satisfying feeling of his orgasm flooded through him and gently eased. He liked the calming touch of her fingers in his hair and the cool feel of her skin against his burning flesh. He felt her pressing kisses to his shoulder and smiled, lifting his head to meet her eyes. "That was....so good." He chuckled. She grinned proudly. "Sorry I didn't warn you...or pull out. I wouldn't usually just cum in your mouth without asking but...fuck, I thought I could hold on a bit longer." He smiled. She giggled, shaking her head. "It's ok. I wanted you to." She grinned. "It was really hot. I really like doing that to you." She admitted. He grinned, curling a strand of her hair around his fingers. "You can do that to me whenever the fuck you want to." He laughed. "Don't tell me that. You'll spend your entire life with your dick in my mouth." She grinned. "Sounds good to me." He shrugged. They both laughed. He stood, offering his hand to pull her up too. He kissed her, standing at the end of the bed, naked bodies pressed together as his hands wandered up and down her back. He could taste himself of her lips and though the thought of it would usually make him feel kind of weird, he just found it incredibly hot. "You taste like my cum" he whispered against her lips, tongue delving deeper into her mouth. She moaned against his lips. "Are you trying to kill me?" She breathed. He chuckled, pushing her back gently until she collided with the bed and fell backwards onto it. "Maybe" he shrugged, crawling into the bed between her legs. She gasped, shuffling backwards. "What you doing?" She muttered. He pushed her legs apart, biting his lip as he looked unabashedly at her glistening pussy. "Hungry." He grunted, dropping down onto his elbows and kissing her thigh. "You're going to kill me." She hissed, watching him kiss closer to her throbbing core. "Shhh. I'm busy." He muttered, teasingly running his tongue along the crease where her leg met her groin. Her breath caught in her throat. Just the sight of his head between her legs had her pussy contracting.

"Jungkook, I..." He stopped her, mid sentence by swiping his tongue through her folds. "Oh my god." She panted. He smirked, another long lick from hole to clit, groaning as the taste of her tingled on his tongue. "Fuck. You taste so good." He murmured. He curled his arms around her thighs, spreading her legs further so that her pussy was open and on display. A groan rattled in his throat, his teeth clamping down on his bottom lip before he leant forward and flicked his tongue against her leaking hole, feeling the ring of muscle contract wildly, trying to draw something inside. "You need a cock in you, huh?" He muttered, talking to her pussy. He flicked his tongue once more watching the muscles contract again. "I know you're needy. Just wait a little longer. I need to make her cum again and then I'm all yours. Promise." He whispered.

She watched in amazement. He was nestled comfortably between her parted legs, talking to her vagina like it was a separate entity. She knew Jungkook had a habit of talking to inanimate objects, she'd seen him apologise to chairs when he'd walked into them and ask his food if it was cool enough to eat yet but she'd never imagined in a billion years that that extended to pussy too. When he spoke to chairs, it was adorable. When he spoke to her pussy, it was mind meltingly sexy. She kind of wanted to sit there, third wheeling while he had a whole ass conversation with it. Another flick of his tongue broke her thought then as his tongue fluttered up to her clit, her mind went completely blank. He ate pussy the way he ate noodles, slurping, sucking, lips and tongue. Repeat until insane. He didn't seem to care about the sloppy sounds or lip smacking. He was a noisy eater and she fucking loved it. He dived in enthusiastically and for a woman, there was nothing sexier than a guy who ate pussy because he loved it, not because he felt he had to. He groaned happily, his tongue everywhere, lips closing around her clit, sucking and licking her most sensitive spot until he had to tighten his grip on her thighs to keep her still. Her orgasm built quickly, her hips writhing as she clawed at the sheets beneith her, legs kicking involuntarily under his vice like grip. He moaned, forcing her legs up, his hands behind her knees as he hovered over her, head moving as he made out with her clit like it was her mouth. He didn't stop as her orgasm hit, sucking and licking at her pussy until she was convulsing, her cries somewhere between pleasure and distress. "AHHHH JUNGKOOK, PLEASE" she wailed. "Want me to stop?" He panted quickly, his tongue swirling against her overly sensative clit once again. "YES. NO. I DON'T KNOW" she squealed. It felt too intense. Almost painful. But so good. Unlike anything she'd ever felt before. Her past experiences had all ended as soon as she'd cum but apparently that didn't necessarily mean the end to Jungkook. She crushed the pillow to her face, barely muffling the strangled moans escaping her. "Oh fuck. I'm gonna cum again." She cried. This pleasure was different. Sharper. Her muscles burned, being tensed for too long but unable to relax under his persistent tongue. Her mouth dropped open in a silent scream, her vision went blank, her skin felt on fire and then the raging, hot, sharp pleasure eased. Her muscles slowly unwound and she practically melted into the bed. He was beside her without her even noticing him move. Gentle kisses peppered her face and he moved her sweaty hair back. "Just breath babygirl" he cooed. "Are you alright? Too much?" He whispered. She shook her head, grabbing for his hand and clutching it as her senses returned. "Need you in me." She growled, throwing the pillow aside.

Something about her last orgasm had snapped her resolve and even though the pleasent tingles still washed through her, she couldn't think of anything other than how empty she felt. She'd been craving his cock inside her since they'd kissed against the door and that was hours ago. She couldn't stand another minute of teasing and Jungkooks cocky smirk wasn't helping her any. "Ooh. I really drove you crazy." He teased. "Remind me to do that again..." He kissed her, his tongue teasing her lips and leaving the taste of herself behind, "..and again" He nibbled her bottom lip softly, "...and again!" He whispered. She glared at him as he smiled widely, his nose crinkling. "Don't bunny smile at me." She hissed. He laughed, trailing his fingers across her stomach. "I thought you liked the duality thing. That's what you said earlier." He grinned. "I do...but can you save the bunny bit until after you've fucked me." She whined. He laughed harder. "If you wanna fuck, I'm not stopping you." He shrugged. She eyed him for a second then pushed him onto his back, throwing her leg over his hips. He hummed appreciatively, biting his lip as his eyes roamed slowly down her body, taking his hard cock in his hand and rubbing it against her pussy. "Y'know, I've just had an orgasm. My legs are still wobbly. If you were a gentleman you'd do the work." She smirked, grinding against his cock. He laughed, raising an eyebrow. "Oh is that right?"

He sat up suddenly, sending her flying backwards, she screeched and giggled, grabbing onto his arms as he flipped them so that he was on top of her. He took her hands, pinning them either side of her head. "I was letting you take control cause you said you wanted to fuck. But now..." He paused, kissing her, groaning into her mouth as his tongue slid against hers. "...I'm in control...and I don't wanna fuck. I'm gonna go nice...and slow." He grinned as she started to protest, taking his dick in his hand and rubbing the end against her hole, chuckling as her words stopped instantly. "Yeah, thought that'd shut you up." He lined up, pushing forward, his eyes fluttering as he felt the soft slick heat stretch and swallow the tip. She tried to raise her hips but he pinned them down with a smirk, kissing her softly before resting his forehead against hers. "No baby. Slowly." He breathed, pushing forward a little more. He savoured the feeling of her tight, hot pussy accepting him inch by inch until his hips were flush against hers. He exhaled heavily, his eyes closing as he pressed his lips to hers hungrily. "Wrap your legs around me" he whispered, looking into her lust filled eyes. With her hips lifted, it changed the angle allow him even deeper. "Oh fuck" she grunted, her hands clenched against his shoulders. "Too deep?" He muttered. She shook her head. She felt stretched and filled completely. He was deep enough to make her toes curl. He withdrew just as slowly, whining, his mouth falling open and his brow creasing. "Oh shit." He groaned. He'd wanted to go slow. To tease her until she couldn't stand it anymore but he was the one who gave in first. She was hot and tight and velvety soft. His stomach tightened, his hips moving faster automatically. He kissed her desperately, moans mingling together along with their tongues. Every time he started to pull out, her walls clamped around him, holding and squeezing his throbbing cock. He could barely form a thought, feverishly driving his cock into her over and over as she moaned beneath him. He could feel her getting tighter and wetter. He forced his eyes open. "Look at me" he panted. Her eyes opened, glassy and unfocused. He moaned deeply, the pleasured expression etched on his face along with the sounds he was making only pushed her closer to release. He looked and sounded so fucking sexy, the perfect drag of his thick, hot cock, so hard, so deep, she'd never felt anything like it. She felt like everything about him was designed to please. "Jungkook..." she purred, her hips rolling and bucking in rhythm with his. "Fuck. I'm so close." He moaned. She bit her lip. His golden skin gleamed as sweat began to roll down his neck and onto his chest. Her back arched, the steady thrust of his cock pounding into her driving her closer and closer. She gripped his back, her nails clenching. He felt the bite of pain and hissed, thrusting harder. "Let go baby. Let me see you come undone one more time." He growled. It was like she didn't have a choice, her body simply obeying, her orgasm shattering through her. He felt it, the hard clench of her walls followed by the rapid pulsing, milking his cock, pulling his cum from him. His steady rhythm faltered, his head dropping onto her shoulder as he fucked through the pleasure, his cum spilling deep inside her making his thrusting sloppier. He was still twitching as his arms gave out and he flopped heavily down on top of her, gasping for air, his head swimming and buzzing. He could feel her hot, ragged breath against his ear. He wanted to move off of her, check she was ok, do something but he couldn't move. He felt heavy, his mind cloudy. He just about managed to throw his leg over her hips and slither beside her, dozily pulling her into his arms as he pressed soft, breathless kisses to her forehead. "Roll" he mumbled, tapping her hip. She forced herself onto her side, grumbling contentedly as he curled up behind her, spooning her. "I think I'm gonna pass out." She whispered, giggling weakly. He chuckled, his own eyes heavy, the urge to sleep clawing

at him insistently. "Sleep. I'm not going anywhere." He muttered.

[black-mistress-of-evil]

Hey! Can I request a Bucky x Reader where Bucky gets hurt during a mission and the reader is there to take care of him? Maybe he’s caught of guard by this because he hasn’t had someone take care of him in a long time? Feel free to do whatever you want with this!! Thank you so much and I can’t wait to read it 💕

Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N Thanks so much for the request @thighs-of-betrayal-blog this was so fun to write! Sorry it took so long! I swear every time I get the motivation to write my life gets crazy. But here it is, hopefully it’s a little bit what you hoped for and if it isn’t I hope you enjoy it anyways haha 💜

Warnings: FLUFFY FLUFF; angst if you squint; very very brief canon level violence; a minute of mutually pining idiots

Word count: approx 2.3k

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (he uses the endearment “doll” but other than that reader is gender neutral)

Why Do You Care?

“Bucky stop being so stubborn and let me see!”

You were standing in the living room of the safe house Bucky had dragged you into, hands on your hips glaring down at the super soldier on the couch. He was avoiding your gaze, staring a hole in the wall to your left, and had his arms folded across his chest. He looked to you more like a pouting child than a 100+ year old ex-assassin/current Avenger and if you weren’t so frustrated with him you’d probably giggle at the sight.

The mission had been a success. Sort of. You and Bucky had been sent in to steal sensitive files from an abandoned Hydra base. Which you managed to do. But it ended up being less than abandoned and without any backup the fight out was a rough one. Just as the two of you were finally getting out, covered in blood and bruises, Bucky had grabbed your arm and shoved you into a crouch, bending himself over you protectively as a shot rang out. He grunted out in pain and you leaned around his frame to send a bullet straight into the skull of the Hydra agent who’d been stupid enough not to stay down. You’d tried, then, to make sure Bucky was okay but he wasted no time in hauling you back up and out into the night. His hand slipped down your arm to clasp yours and he didn’t let go until you were safely within the walls of the safe house. The more the two of you had run the more obvious it became that he was hurt but he ignored you asking about it.

Now that he’d made sure the safe house was secure and reported back to Steve what had happened and where you were, he couldn’t avoid you anymore. But he could ignore you and he was trying his damnedest to do so.

“M’fine.” He grumbled at you for probably the third time in as many minutes, shifting to turn his injured side away from you as if that would make you go away.

“Bucky I know you’re not fine so why won’t you just let me see so I can help?” The cuteness of his pout was wearing off as your patience was wearing thin. “Do you not trust me or something??”

Bucky’s eyes snapped up to yours then, his heart rate rising as he saw the concern there. He did trust you. More than he trusted himself most days. Hell he was in love with you. But you were way too good for him, too full of light, and you’d never be interested in someone like him. He’d only ruin you anyways. But when he looked into your eyes he couldn’t stand the flash of hurt he saw when you asked that question.

“Course I do doll...I trust ya...” his voice was hoarse and he tried taking a deep breath to clear his throat but it sent pain shooting through him and he groaned, pressing his hand to the still bleeding wound in his side.

“Buck....” your tone was softer now as you took a step closer. You thought for a second that he was going to let you check on his injury but the moment your hands reached for him he shot up, ignoring the pain, and pushed past you into the bathroom while mumbling about not needing help.

You roll your eyes and sigh as the bathroom door slams shut behind him. Ever since you’d met the quiet soldier when he joined the Avengers he’d swung back and forth between pushing you away and pulling you in closer. He always volunteered to be partnered with you and you worked well together but he’d refuse to spar with you. He liked helping you cook for team dinners but always declined your invitations to go out for lunch. During movie nights he only ever sat beside you or, if someone beat him there, he’d sit on the floor and lean against your legs even if there was an empty seat by someone else, but he wouldn’t join you when you were binge watching your favourite show alone. You couldn’t figure him out but the more you tried to the more you fell for him. It had been agony for you to want him knowing he could never see you as more than a teammate and friend. Regardless of how many times his behaviour had made it clear he wasn’t interested in you that way, you couldn’t help it. You loved him. And if that remained unrequited the rest of your life then so be it, you were that gone for him.

And so, despite his insistence that he didn’t need your help, you found yourself trailing after him towards the bathroom. You pressed your ear to the door and could hear him shuffling around, pulling out a first aid kit, and then gasping in obvious pain.

“Bucky? Open the door and let me in? Please? I want to help...I want to take care of you, you just have to let me....” you pause, waiting for a response, and notice that all the sounds on the other side of the door have ceased.

“Buck? Please, I care about you...let me...” your voice is lower, almost a whisper now, and you wait another few painfully silent seconds before hearing a long sigh from the other side of the door. When it cracks open, your eyes meet his piercingly blue ones and you nearly crumble at the uncertainty you see there.

“Can I come in, Buck?” You ask gently and he hesitates for only a second before nodding and opening the door wider. You step inside and motion for him to sit on the edge of the counter for you and he quickly obeys.

“You’re gonna have to take your shirt off for me to see, Buck.” You say gently, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. He grunts in acknowledgement and begins pulling his black tee up, hissing as he raises his arms causing a tug to his injury. Without a second thought, you reach forward and help maneuver his shirt the rest of the way off, dropping it to the side as he brings his arms back down. As other times in the past when you’ve seen him shirtless, you can’t help but let your eyes travel across his firm chest and toned abdomen, drinking him in until you raise your eyes to his and realize he’s watching you. You quickly avert your gaze, your ears burning at having been caught ogling him, so you miss the way his lips curl into a smirk. Focusing your attention onto his side you gasp at the large gash there still slowly leaking blood.

“Not that bad, doll.”

“James Buchanan Barnes! Just because its not life-threatening does not mean that it’s ‘not that bad’. Dammit Buck why wouldn’t you let me help you take care of this as soon as we got here?!” You huff as you grab some antibacterial cloths and begin cleaning the wound, ignoring his hiss as you do so.

“M’sorry, doll...it’s just...haven’t really had anyone take care of me in...well since before the war to be honest. Got used to taking care of myself...used to not having anyone care.” Bucky’s voice is barely a whisper and you have to strain to listen to him. He’s never been so vulnerable with you and you want to make the most of however long he’s going to let this moment last. When its clear he’s waiting for you to say something you reach one hand up to softly cup his cheek and turn him to face you.

“I care. I care so much, Buck. You just have to let me.” You try to put all your emotions into your gaze, desperate for him to see that he doesn’t have to be alone and that he is loved and cared about. He sighs and leans into your hand more, raising his own to rest on your hip.

“Why?”

He spoke so quietly you’re not sure you heard him and raise an eyebrow to ask him to repeat himself, too afraid of breaking the spell that seems to have fallen over the two of you to speak.

“Why do you care so much, doll? Why me? I’m not...I’m not worth it.”

This is it. The chance to tell him how you feel. If he rejects you that’s fine, you decide. Even if he doesn’t return your feelings at least he will know that he is loved and that’s enough for you right now. Your heart feels like it may burst as you weigh your response carefully.

“You, Bucky, are so worthy of all the care in the world. You went through hell and back a million times over and came out the other side a kind, thoughtful, sweet, considerate, gentle, loving man. The world tried to break all of that out of you but you are too strong and too GOOD. The world owes you and if I could wrap up all the love that exists in it and give it to you I would. But I’ve only got mine so that’s what I’ll give you.”

Dropping your hand from his face to his shoulder, you hold your breath as Bucky’s eyes stare into yours as though searching for something. He tightens his grip on your waist, before finally breaking the heavy silence, his voice at least an octave lower.

“You’ll....give me...your love...?” Bucky is the strongest man you know and yet you have never heard him sound so timid and unsure in all the time you’ve known him. He looks so hopeful and scared and you can’t help the confession bursting from your lips.

“Yes Bucky! I will. I already have. It’s yours. I-I love you.” You take a deep breath before continuing, rambling now. “And I don’t expect to you to return my feelings and I hope I haven’t ruined our friendship because that would just kill me nothing has to change between us I just needed you to know that—mmph—“

You’re cut off by Bucky’s lips connecting with yours, his hands cupping your face, thumbs rubbing gently across your cheekbones. The kiss is gentle, careful, almost tentative at first. But then your arms snake around his neck and one of his hands makes its way into your hair and it becomes passionate and desperate. Bucky pulls you between his thighs so you are flush against him and the feeling of his taut muscles against you makes you moan. Your hands lift to tangle in his hair and tug gently as he runs his tongue along your bottom lip, practically begging for entrance which you immediately grant. He growls into the kiss as he explores every inch of your mouth with his tongue, his hands roaming all across your body, pulling you impossibly closer as you arch into him needing to feel him. He stands suddenly, pushing you back a couple of steps until you are pinned between his body and the wall. You gasp for air and he moves his lips along your jaw, down your neck, and then back up to press another searing kiss against your lips before resting his forehead against yours as he tries to catch his own breath. Your chests rise and fall together and he rubs his nose against yours before placing another tender, gentle kiss on the corner of your mouth.

“Sorry....couldn’t help myself...” Bucky manages to tell you between gasps for air.

“Never apologize for THAT...” you giggle and the vibrations of his chuckle against your chest make you feel lightheaded as he leans back to look you in the eye, cupping your cheek tenderly.

“I love you.” He sounds sure. Confident. Like nothing in the world could be more true than that statement. You can’t help the ridiculously giddy grin that splits your face as you tug his face back to yours for another kiss, which he smiles into.

Once you come down from your highs a little bit you manage to coax him back to his spot on the counter and you continue cleaning his injury and stitching him up though it takes much longer now as Bucky keeps distracting you. He plants kisses to your nose, your shoulder, your neck, your cheek, your forearm, basically any part of you that comes close enough to his lips. When you finally finish, you let your hands run along his muscles as you rub your nose against his and kiss him deeply, gently biting his bottom lip eliciting a sound from him that turns your insides completely upside down.

Before you can say or do anything else, the front door opens with a crash and Bucky grabs you and shoves you behind him protectively as he peeks out into the front room to assess the threat.

“Dammit punk! What’re you breaking down the door for?! I thought you were a hostile! Why didn’t you just call and say you were here??!” You sigh in relief at Bucky’s nickname for Steve and move to peer over his shoulder at the Captain as the two super soldiers glare at each other.

“I’ve been calling for several minutes! You didn’t answer! I thought you were in danger, jerk!”

“Sorry, Steve! We were...distracted. Bucky needed stitches.” You quickly apologize and give an excuse in case Bucky isn’t comfortable saying anything yet since you hadn’t exactly taken the time to talk yet. But he just turns to face you and smirks as he tugs you to him for one more kiss before reaching around you to grab his shirt and pull it on.

“Ya. We were pretty damn distracted. Didn’t really appreciate the interruption, punk!” Bucky chuckles and can’t help the grin that has been plastered on his face since you told him you love him. Your cheeks flush as he puts an arm around your shoulder, guiding you to Steve who is looking between you and Bucky with a happy, almost proud, look on his face.

“It’s about damn time, you two! Now, who made the first move? I need to know if I owe Sam $50 or not.”

[thesevro]

wanna watch / gojo s. + nanami k.

𝖌𝖔𝖏𝖔 𝖘𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖚 + 𝖓𝖆𝖓𝖆𝖒𝖎 𝖐𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖔 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖒𝖚𝖙 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 2.3K words

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: where gojo and nanami decide to get greedy. together. 𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: explicit smut, voyeurism, polygamy, one mention of bondage, cum play

HIS AND THE other man's legs cross at almost the same time. Both are trying their damnedest to hide the largest secrets they could ever keep.

Gojo watches you move about with probing eyes. Ignores the innocence of your routine, how you bustle innocuously about with a distracted frown on your face as you kindly prepare coffee and tea for them and yourself. The scent of ground beans fills the air with thick redolence but he can only imagine the smell of your hair as he pulls it back with his hands. This happens in one of his fantasies. In another, he has his face buried in your locks as he fucks you from behind.

I bet she would taste sweet. The thought is such a prominent fantasy that he almost sees you there on the counter, legs spread, clothes as much of a mess as he can make you. He imagines sticking his head between your legs. Listening to the melody of your name spilling from your mouth. He swallows, tries to calm his nerves. He's never been more grateful for the blindfold over his eyes.

Nanami's eyes, hidden from behind his goggles, conceal none of his other tells. He half-fools himself into believing no one can see how his head tilts downward ever so slightly to eye the swell of your ass as you bend over to fetch a bag of coffee grains from a low cupboard. How he lets his eyes greedily devour the sight of the skin on your stomach as you reach for a coffee mug on a shelf high above your head, shirt rising. His jaw tightens. He has too many tells.

Want to bend her over that counter and fill her up.

He wants to run his hands over your stomach. Hook your thighs around his head as he eats you out. Slap your ass until you beg for him to keep going because he knows he can just be that good.

Must she really maintain perpetual seduction? I would like to enjoy her here. School policies could go and suck my—

The two men have the same thing on their minds. The same hedonism. The same nasty thoughts of fucking you until you see stars and cry their names. Makes their brows furrow ever so slightly, their breaths stutter in their chests.

Natural seductress, the pair concludes at the same time.

And you are the first to break the immense focus that has narrowed their visions to mere thoughts of fucking you into oblivion.

"What are you two looking at? You've been staring at me like a bunch of hungry dogs since I came in." You pretend to wave them away, still grinding up coffee with one hand. Boiling tea whistles in another pot. "Shoo, shoo~~ I don't have any food on me."

"Bunny," Gojo starts, rising from his seat with a hand already at the hem of his uniform. Ready to pull it off. Nanami follows. "There's something much tastier right here in front of us."

"Yes." Nanami reaches you first. He will never admit it but he has not always been the best at repressing his need for you. "I must agree with Gojo, for once. You would taste so much better."

"Oh." You smirk. "So you were watching?"

Gojo pauses. Then he laughs. Realizes something.

"You put on such a show for us... on purpose?" Nanami asks this with his teeth nipping at your ear. Gojo lets the man enjoy himself. You two have always been able to show him the naughtiest shit. Sometimes he wonders if Nanami was a sex god in his past life. Occasionally... the blonde had been able to show him, his natural enemy, a very, very good time as well.

"Well. I don't see why I couldn't have done that." You chuckle softly in response to Nanami's query, reaching for Gojo. He kisses your hand. The inside of your wrist. Then he gently pushes Nanami to the side so he can raise you up on the counter.

Nanami cocks his head at Gojo as the other man pulls back to switch the boiling tea off. The blonde raises a question with his eyes as Gojo only crosses his arms and leans back into the counter.

"Only feel like watching today," Gojo says, shrugging.

"Aww," you whine, pouting at him from your place. "But I want you to join us! That was the whole point of my show. Won't be the same without you."

"Careful bunny," Gojo warns, wagging a finger. "We both know that Nanami gets jealous easily."

"...Uh, no, he doesn't." You and Nanami share a dubious glance with each other. "Well, Nanami and I both know you can be a very big dumbass sometimes. Always bouncing around with candy. Always copping a feel of my ass and Nanami's man tiddies whenever you get the chance—"

"Alright honey. That's enough." Nanami molds his mouth into yours. His hand clasps your hip. Another hand grasps the side of your neck in one large palm. You shiver at the hold he has on your neck. Spread your legs wider so he can stand between you.

Nanami slips a hand between your thighs. His fingers explore very familiar territory. He's touched you here many times before.

Your shoulders tense as he slides two fingers along your slit. You wind your fingers through the back of his hair. Let it be a small anchoring point for you as Nanami fucks you with his fingers.

"Nanami, fuck," you swear as he flicks your clit, and this makes Gojo and Nanami himself shift in place to adjust their pants. "Don't make me wait. Let's make this a good show for our audience."

You lace your fingers through his tie. Pull it off and toss it in Gojo's direction so that it lands to hang over his shoulder. Gojo cheers. You and Nanami kiss once more. His tongue warms yours in your mouth. You get the smallest openings to get a taste of his mouth.

He makes sure you keep your shirt on. If anyone were to walk in... well, Gojo wouldn't be fired on the spot, he was much too valuable. You would be allowed to remain with your position as the second strongest sorcerer, too. Him... well, maybe he could just become your concubine.

But he slips two of your buttons off. It shows enough skin for him to mark. He is careful not to leave any above your collarbone as he pulls away from your mouth to nibble and bite at the flesh bulging from your bra.

"Wish we could take it all off," Gojo murmurs as he watches Nanami ravage you. His pants have come undone. He holds his cock in one hand. Strokes it languidly as he listens keenly to your pants and Nanami's grunts. He loves the sounds you both make.

"Maybe putting your cock in my mouth would make things a little better for us," you suggest with a wavering smirk. It disappears completely as Nanami pulls your panties off. He throws it in Gojo's direction as well. Let it be another token of appreciation for their most loyal viewer.

Gojo shifts again as your pretty undergarments land right on his shoulder. He almost strides over to you and does exactly as you asked of him. But control has always been his one point of mastery, unlikely as it seems.

"Let's let you and Nanami enjoy this by yourselves, bunny."

Nanami fingers your slick folds with insidious circular motions. He doesn't stop these motions as he undoes his belt. You push both his hands away to undo it yourself, and to do it properly. It's always been satisfying to unbuckle the length of leather from around his hips. More so to let him wrap it around your wrists. But you have no time for that.

The tongue of the belt hangs just by his hips as you pull his boxers down. You conjure a condom from a pocket in your skirt, grinning slyly at Nanami as he stares down at you in bewilderment. You slide it over his cock. He tenses with the work of your skilled hands, stomach clenching. Absent lube, you briefly wet the rubber with spit to let Nanami's travel to your cunny be a smooth one.

Nanami cups your bottom with a hand. Half your ass hangs over the counter, just enough for the position to stay comfortable but far enough off the counter for him to lead his cock into your cunt. His eyes close as you grab his goggles between two fingers and pull it off his face. He presses his forehead to yours and gives you a chaste, simple kiss. You wrap your hands around his neck to kiss him with the same affection, smiling gently into the kiss. The moment between you is so intimate Gojo nearly feels guilty for bearing witness.

"Gonna get inside you, darling," Nanami murmurs, pulling away from the kiss. He buries his face into your neck with his first slide into you. His breaths come out in grunts. When you whisper his name with that wonderful breathy tone that comes from you every time he or Gojo fucks you, he almost moans.

Nanami possesses this sweet inclination towards fucking you nice and slow in the beginning of a round. But the threat of a peeping Tom (would likely be, unintentionally on the boy's part, Yuji) looms over your heads and frees him of his inhibitions. His first thrust is slow. Gentle, even. Then he pounds into you so hard your body reacts and twitches on its own.

"Fuck! Nanami!"

He does this. Again and again. Creates a rhythm violent enough to crack the counter as his knees meet it with each thrust. Even Gojo doesn't notice. Too much of his focus lies on enjoying such a glorious show.

The sounds of his cock fucking your pussy are downright filthy. Force Nanami to be forthright and he would accurately call them pornographic. Your moans are just as salacious, and the closeness of each sound of pleasure that escapes your lips makes him rut into you with harsher vigor. You bury your head into his shoulder. Cry out into his neck. He can feel the sounds on his skin.

The cold metal of his belt buckle cools the hot skin on one of your thighs. The roughness of that leather rubbing to a part of you so close to your cunt makes your pussy convulse. Nanami pants quietly at the overwhelming sensation of your hole squeezing him. He turns to Gojo with hooded eyes. They widen once the sight before him comes into focus.

"Darling," he grunts out into your neck. "Look at Gojo."

Gojo doesn't notice yours or Nanami's gazes. He ruts into his hand, pumping it over his cock in wild motions. He's thrown his head back in ecstasy, luxuriating in the memorized images of you drooling while Nanami fucks you and the face Nanami made only a minute ago as you clenched around him particularly tight. His throat bobs as he feels himself near his peak. He pants. Breaths the beat of a hummingbird's wings. The man looks absolutely ethereal fucking his own hand.

He notices how the sounds of your fucking have stopped. He pulls his head back forward, concerned but still dazed with lust. He blinks at you and Nanami. Eyes following movement as you hold a hand out to him once more.

"Join us, baby," you insist.

"You look needy," Nanami intones with a ghost of a laugh.

Still, Gojo hesitates.

"Gojo." The firmness in Nanami's voice makes him impossibly harder. He and the other man stare at each other with sin in the eyes. "Come." Nanami curls a finger, beckoning Gojo over. "Make her cum."

And this time he is not willing to protest.

Gojo saunters over to you. Presses a kiss to your bruised mouth and another to Nanami's. He strokes his cock while slipping a hand between the close proximity of yours and Nanami's hips. His fingers find your clit quickly.

You start another rhythm. A more desperate one. You hang just on the edge of your high. The muscles in Nanami's abdomen are tight. Gojo is just as close. Not so far behind. And when your hand slips downward to let him fuck your palm and fingers, he has to lean into your shoulder to keep himself from falling over.

You are the first to unwind. The two men look up to commit the sight of the peak of pleasure on your face to their memory. They savor your moans. Nanami fucks you a little harder. Groans as the hot fist of your pussy squeezes him, milks him. His balls tighten as he empties load into you.

Gojo leaves a mess on your hands as he cums. Sighs into your neck as his eyes roll back. His body shudders with Nanami's as he cums with the other man almost simultaneously.

It takes some time for your bodies to relax. It is dangerous to hang around here, with Gojo's cock in your hand and Nanami's length in your cunt. But this was a good show. One you put all efforts into perfecting.

Nanami kisses your neck tenderly before pulling his cock out of you. You shiver as it slides from your cunt. Nanami wipes at the wet slick between your thighs with a handkerchief while Gojo buttons your shirt up again. They baby you while their cocks hang out like monstrous masses. You almost laugh. It's vulgarly comedic.

Nanami smooths your hair and kisses you again, then steps back to fix his own clothes. Gojo sets your collar straight and smiles tiredly at you, then rests back next to you on the counter to pull his pants up. You raise a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, leaning against Gojo in exhaustion.

Your eyes catch something, and before you can fix your hair you see the white streaking your hand. You blink dumbly at the mess on your palm. It's sticky between your fingers. When the idea comes to you, a feline-like sense of danger returns to your features.

"Gojo, Nanami," you call. Gojo looks to you with a smile that falls immediately as you perform what you know will not be the denouement of your show. Nanami observes your actions with a dipped head and a growl forming in his throat.

The two men are forced to undress once more as you lick at Gojo's cum with the indecency of a starved minx. Tongue between your fingers. Cum sliding down your throat as you lap it all up.

This time, you lock the door. A good idea on your part. Because the round lasts well into the afternoon. Many knocks sound on the door as you enjoy yourselves.

It is a delightful way to spend a day at work.