#his eyes are glistening TWICE as much as they normally do Hes so fucking concentrated hes so close

[eebie]

Your beautiful stupid wet eyes and fluttering lashes captivate me girl

(ART BY AVIAREI I DIDNT REALIZE THIS WASNT REAL … IT LOOKS SO REAL !!!)

[thegrandlinesimp]

Another pre-series, this one not long after they’d just started dating.

Also, you’re gonna see a lot more of me putting two days into one fill, my brain just pairs them together for longer, more fleshed out scenes.

Warnings: semi-public sex, Killer being a perv

Word Count: 1.5k

At the age of twenty-two, with four years of experience under his belt, Killer liked to think he had pretty much almost all his sexual preferences sorted out.

Then in came barreling Kid.

Kid, with his lean muscles and shit-eating grin. Kid, with his defiant gaze and wild red hair. Kid, with his needy moans and tear filled eyes staring up at him as he mercilessly fucked his ass without pause.

Kid, with his bare, sweat glistened back, swinging his woodcutting axe as he endeavoured to fell the fifth tree today.

Killer was doing his damdest to keep up, cutting the logs into planks once the redhead had stripped them of branches, getting rid of the bark the way Doc had showed them. They’d need a lot more wood if they wanted to finish their ship.

Or, ‘dreadnaught’, as Kid insisted on calling it. Not cause that was the class of ship they were building, but because it sounded cool.

The blonde’s chest swelled with affection as he smiled behind his mask, as much as he tried to act an adult, Kid would always be a child at heart. It was one of the things he loved about the wild redhead, even though he was by no means a boy anymore. He’d filled out over the past nine years, he remembered how Kid looked when Doc first took the two of them in. From scrawny, scowling child with a bone to pick with anyone who glanced his way, to young, muscular man so assured in who he wanted to be he’d throw hands with anyone who said otherwise.

Killer didn’t know when he’d developed feelings for his best friend, and Kid said it’d been the same for him. It just…happened.

Rather much like getting a boner from seeing your unfairly attractive boyfriend playing a shirtless lumberjack.

It just happened.

Killer tried his best to concentrate on sawing the piece of timber in front of him, yet with his mask on he couldn’t help but steal glances over at Kid, watching with bated breath as the man carried the newly fallen tree over to the pile as if it weighed no more than a bedroll. He remembered the first punch Kid ever threw at him, they were both so young then, Killer had called him ‘scrawny’ and the the little redhead had gotten mad. He’d felt it, but it left no bruise, no lingering ache.

“I wanna get stronger, like you! Teach me how to punch!”

His heart swelled again as he smiled, following a bead of sweat rolling down Kid’s spine as he walked to the next tree, but frowned as the redhead froze. Was there something out there? He wouldn’t put it past a pack of wolves to sneak up on them, especially if they were starving.

“I can feel you staring.”

And he could hear the grin in Kid’s voice.

Killer swallowed, flinching as he realised he’d stopped sawing altogether, “Can you blame me?” he said on pure reflex.

The younger man threw back his head and laughed, Killer’s face flushed at being caught. He was used to perving on others, the mask made it easy, but none of them had ever known him well enough to catch him.

Kid turned and stalked over to him, the sweat on his forehead seemed to accentuate his sharp, hungry gaze more, making him look ravenous. The blonde shifted, trying to keep his lower half hidden behind the makeshift workbench, that look in the other man’s eyes was doing things to him. It was all over though, the moment Kid stood beside him and glanced down, smiling wickedly at the prominent bulge in Killer’s pants.

“Damn, you’re a horny bastard,” he snickered.

“Says you,” Killer huffed, tensing.

They were outside, in the open, this wasn’t something he normally did in such an exposed area; once or twice in a dark alleyway, sure, but never in a wide open space like this.

It was broad daylight too!

Kid reached for his mask and he flinched, but relaxed when the offending hand was simply placed on the smooth metal. The redhead cocked a brow, smiling, and his heart skipped a beat. The lug-head was asking permission. His face burned and he thought steam would start rising out of the holes in his mask at the simple gesture.

He shook his head.

Kid’s smile dropped, as did his hand, cheeks reddening. He grumbled something under his breath as he went to turn away, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Wait,” Killer said, sounding breathless as he realised how fast his heart was beating, hand darting out to grab the him by the arm, “that doesn’t mean I don’t want to. It’s just,” he glanced around, face still burning, heart still hammering, “we’re a bit…it’s a bit open…”

The redhead’s manic smile returned immediately, twisting his arm in the blonde’s grasp so they were holding each other by the forearm, “Behind a tree?”

Killer swallowed, eyeing the pale, sweat riddled skin of the other’s chest, “Y-yeah, okay.”

He was dragged behind the closet tree, a thick birch that Kid had been looking at the other day, it’s trunk marked with a painted red X. He pushed Kid against the bark so they were to the left of the paint, the redhead still grinning away as he began to mouth at Killer’s exposed neck. His body was trembling with an odd sense of excitement, having never done anything so sexually thrilling right beneath the hot, beating sun. Killer started to unzip his pants - fumbling a little from the buzz vibrating through his body - when Kid cursed under his breath, he looked up at the younger man, tilting his head in question.

“No lube,” Kid growled through clenched teeth, though with his face pressed to Killer’s shoulder it sounded a lot like he was pouting.

Right, they’d never gotten off with each other without there being full on sex involved at some point. The corner of his mouth twitched as he was reminded how green the redhead still was, that same possessive ache coiling in his chest like it did on their first night, he remembered how he’d relished every time it had tightened with each question Kid had asked. The look of hungry, virginal curiosity in those crimson eyes never failing to light a fire in Killers gut.

“Cute,” Killer chuckled, cupping the younger man’s quickly reddening cheek.

“F-fuck off,” Kid snapped, “what do you mean ‘cute’?”

“How innocent you are, you don’t need to stick your dick in someone to call it sex,” Killer murmured, his mask bumping against Kid’s lips,

Fuck it.

With a huff he pulled his mask off and tossed it to the ground. Kid’s brow shot up, eyes wide at the rapid change in the older man. Before he could say anything, though, Killer mashed their lips together. With Kid going weak at the knees, the blonde took it upon himself to pull out the redhead’s cock. Kid groaned into his mouth as his dick was slowly jerked off, tongue brushing against his, making Killer buck his hips. He moaned, pulling his erection out, pressing his body forward so it was flush with Kid’s, rocking his hips to their bare cocks ground against one another.

“F-fuck,” Kid gasped, head rolling back and hitting the tree with a soft ‘thump’.

He was truly beautiful, scarlet hair weighed down and stuck to his forehead by sweat, fiery red eyes - usually filled with a gleam of mischievousness - lax with a look of pure want, blood red lips hanging open as he panted and moaned.

Fuck.

It was still too soon to say it out loud, yet the deep realisation Killer had in that moment seemed to stab him in the heart.

He was hopelessly in love.

He pressed his lips to Kid’s again, the two of them moaning as he gripped their cocks in hand, stroking them slowly as his tongue danced with Kid’s. Fingers gripped at his long hair as the redhead whimpered into his mouth, hips bucking as he shook. Killer nipped at the other’s lower lip, holding it between his teeth and sucking.

Kid moaned, hips stuttering in their rhythm as he pulled back for air, “Fucking- god, shit, fuck,” only to immediately dive back in, tongue dragging against his.

He didn’t last long after that, Kid never could go the length Killer could, always too eager to reach the end only to start the next round soon after. His body trembling between Killer and the tree, coming all over his sweat riddled abs.

Killer licked his lips at the fucked out expression staring at him, the redhead’s body still shaking in the aftermath of his orgasm. He took himself in hand, determined to come with that gorgeous, satisfied face staring at him with adoring eyes.

Though it seemed Kid had other plans, sinking gracelessly to his knees in the dirt and running his tongue up Killer’s pulsing cock.

Still looking at him with those same eyes.

Yeah, Killer thought as Kid took him into his warm, red lipped mouth, still choking a little with inexperienced enthusiasm, he had it bad.

[sailorhyunjinz]

~ High on hatred ~

Warnings: SMUT, college!au, stoner!jisung, fem!reader, goodstudent x badstudent, illegal substances, fingering, blowjob, aggressivity(?), choking, hairpulling, penetrative sex (stay safe :c), nicknames (babygirl, slut..), hickies, cuddles!

Word count: 3,134 words (ok cherry slow down ffs) 

Requested: yesyes~ thank u anon for requestiiing cc:

Note: ok huge note here! i literally know nothing about drugs/illegal substances (or even legal substances for maybe except my raging caffeine addiction)  (where im from most substances are illegal heh) so please understand if this shits written like shit) also bad boys x good girls is my WEAKNESS since i always want some “bad boy” to wreck my good girl agenda hahahsh 

Jisung wasn’t the most outstanding student in college but somehow you ended up being partners for a group project. The quiet straight A kid with the failing stoner, you could already imagine how this would go. You sat next to him in the lecture hall after your professor had announced the pairs and dreaded introducting yourself but your parents raised you with the belief that kindness comes first so you took a deep breath and said: 

“Hi! I’m y/n” you smiled at him. His gaze met yours, those dark brown eyes were somewhat bloodshot and his aura reeked of smoke. 

“Sup, Jisung” he waved with his thumb, pointer- and middle finger lazily towards you as his gaze scanned your body. You felt a bit uncomfortable by his predatory stare so you shifted in your seat, adjusting the white flowy skirt you had on. 

“Ehm.. so.. how do you want to structure up the project? I was thinking that we could divide the parts by-” you were stopped by his scoff. You looked at him in confusion. This would be much more difficult than you anticipated.

“Come over to my house tonight babygirl” his corny smirk and raspy voice made you want to punch him. Taken aback you turned your head slightly as you said; 

“What? So I can be another one of the girls you fuck?” your blood was boiling. Who does he think he is with his snapback and  dangly silver earrings? 

“Chill, I was thinking about working on the project but you seem to have other plans in mind with me” he smirked, still observing you. 

Your face turned beet red and Jisungs cocky attitude did not help in the slightest. 

“I.. I d-didn’t mean that..” you stuttered but you decided to shut up to not make the situation worse. Jisung reached for the post-it notes that were by your side and wrote something down. He teared it off the pad and just as you stood up, hoping to walk away and never see him again you heard him say;

“Babygirl, come at 7″ he stretched out his arm, hand holding the note. 

You grabbed it aggressively and stomped off as you heard him yell “Come safely babygirl” 

♡ 

On your way home you crumbled up the note and stuffed it in your pocket. You had no intention of meeting him but when you arrived home you reached for the pink note in your pocket as you took off your backpack and sat down in the kitchen. The pink note had his adress on it. The urge to just scream and rip up the note was strong but something stopped you and that was the fact that you needed to get this project done. You were not going to fail because of some stoner. You unpacked your bag and started studying on some of your other courses but the note always lurked in the corner of your eye. 

Hours later you stood infront of your mirror putting different shirts on hangers against your torso, comparing the colors. Being preoccupied with choosing the cutest shirt you didn’t notice the fact that you tried to look your best for Jisung. Eventually you snapped out of your good girl side that always wanted to look presentable. Why do I care about what he thinks of me? You rolled your eyes and put the shirts back into your closet as you took out a sweatshirt and a matching pair of sweatpants. “This will do” you said under your breath as you slipped into the comfortable fabric before you ordered a taxi. 

“Shit better be worth it” you sighed as you clicked “proceed” and saw the sum. You packed your bag with the necessary stationary, threw on a fluffy ivory jacket and grabbed the keys with a jingle. 

You greeted the taxi driver whose taxi stood infront of the apartment complex. Before you headed out you managed to grab the pink note and now showed it to the driver that nodded whilst the soft radio static played in the background. The town looked so peaceful in the evenings, the artificial lights from the thousands of offices reflected in your glistening eyes as you looked out the window. You noticed that your shoulders were tense signaling that you were nervous which was dumb. Why would you be nervous to meet a dirtbag that has the right to call you ‘babygirl’? A shudder cascaded down your spine at the though of that awful nickname, especially when it echoed in your head in Jisungs voice. 

The taxi halted infront of a long block of brick apartment complexes, the nightlife being busy as usual in the big city you resided. A small “thank you” slipped out of your tongue before you opened the car door and were met by the cold breeze. The entrence had grand glas and wood double doors which opened with a loud creek. You looked at the note once again, checking what apartment number the boy lived in. “248″ you muttered as you made your way up the stone staircase. “Found it”, you stood infront of the slightly bashed ivy colored door. Your hesitant fist made it’s way to knock on the door and after 5 nervewracking seconds the tall, slim boy opened the door with a joint between his lips. Smoke was emitting from behind him and the organic scent hit your nostrils. 

“You came babygirl” he leaned against the door frame as he drew in the smoke from the joint and blew it towards you. You coughed and waved your hand infront of your nose, clearing the smoke. 

“What you standing for? Come in” he snapped his head backwards as a sign for you to step in. You looked down and entered the small smoke-filled apartment. He went to his room and you followed behind with small steps observing the disorganised living space that was cluttered with takeout boxes and photos of friends. His room wasn’t any better. Piles of laundry sat everywhere in the small room and the bed wasn’t made. Did he seriously think that the two of you could do the project when there was a mess wherever you looked? He kicked a pile of clothes away from the carpet and threw a cushion from the bed towards you. He sat down on the carpet as he drew in another breath of smoke into his lungs. Reluctantly you sat down on the cushion opposite to Jisung that was dressed in a boxy white t-shirt and black basketball shorts. 

The big bunch of papers that were required for the project came out of your backpack that was sitting beside you. You spread out the papers on the carpet to make sure Jisung could see but he didn’t seem interested. Instead he kept on smoking as he stared at you intentively, that preditory gaze of his returning. As you were about to start talking about the ideas you had he stretched out his hand offering you a puff. You furrowed your eyebrows as a response to his action. 

“No thanks, I don’t do... that..” you said whilst shaking your head gently. 

That teeth-gritting smirk was plastered on his face as he said:

“You sure babygirl? It will help you relax” he heightened his eyebrows at you. 

Normally you would be very stubborn. You never let anyone do something to you that you didn’t like but in that moment you were swooned by his presence. Was it your feelings or the smoke that you had been breathing in? Without thinking twice you grabbed the joint from his hand to which he licked his lips, grinning.

You put it against your lips and puffed deeply, tasting the smoke in your mouth and feeling it spread in your lungs. A loud cough startled Jisung a bit and you passed the joint back to the brown haired boy. Instantly he looked thousands times more attractive. ‘I must be crazy’ you though as you gently shook your head and tried to concentrate at the papers laid out infront of you. In your peripheral view you saw Jisung shift closer to you and you lifted your head up to look at him. There was something intoxicating about him. The way his brown locks hanged over his eyes or how his piercings shined in the light from outside or maybe it was that veiny hand that held the flaming joint. Whatever it was you found yourself leaning closer to him. Just as he hit the joint again, the smoke spreading in his mouth, you attached your light pink lips onto his plump ones. Jisung opened his mouth in the kiss, crashing his tongue on yours which made the smoke enter your mouth. Being to caught up in the moment Jisung put out the joint on the dark wood flooring which probably was a huge fire hazard but did either of you care in the moment? No. 

The kiss was passionate coming from the tremendous amount of sexual tension in the air. Jisung veiny hand cupped your blushing cheek for a second before it snaked around the back of your neck, pulling you deeper into the wet sloppy kiss. You broke the kiss for a moment to stand up and Jisung did the same but only for a moment as you were pushed down against the unmade bed. It smelled just like him. The substances he was smoking accentuated his natural smell because of course it wasn’t just weed but tobacco as well. You remembered the countless times he had been smoking a cigarette with his friends outside the college department and the momentary eye contact the two of you made before you hurried off to your other classes. It always seemed like his gaze lingered on you even as you walked away. 

You landed with your hands beside your head. As Jisung hovered above you he held both of your hands in his, pinning you to the bed. The wet patch in your panties was growing simply by seeing him on top of you. He leaned down to kiss you once again, biting so hard on your bottom lip that it almost drew blood. The two tongues fought for dominance but the second his hand crept underneath your sweatshirt you lost, a low whine escape your mouth in defeat. Your heads twisted as the makeout session got a slow but steady pace. His hand was warm but more substantial than you though against your boobs which he squeezed harshly through your white bra. Involuntarily your hand grabs a fist of his hair making him smirk against the kiss.

“Desperate babygirl?” he coaxes you. 

“Desperate to get this over with so we can work on the project” you answer inbetween kisses.

“I think you have a much bigger problem to worry about” he growled and looked down for a split second.

As if the smoke wasn’t enough this just added fuel to the fire, both to the deep red color your cheeks were stained with and the wetness in your panties. His clothes were off in a blink and before you knew it he was pulling away yours as well, leaving you with nothing but your slightly embarrassing pink panties that were decorated with a small animal print. 

“Aren’t you adorable?” he cooed at you as his hand trailed down your torso and plummeted into your panties. 

“Shut up-ahh” your attempt of trying to bring his cocky attitude failed once again when he brutally entered two fingers into your sopping cunt. You couldn’t help but to moan as he started to pump his digits inside of you obviously enjoying the sight of the good girl being demolished beneath his touch. When he started to circle your clit with his thumb you held on to his wrist, digging your nails into his skin in order to stop a loud moan. Jisungs fingertips grazed your g-spot and by this point your small whines turned into breathy moans. 

“I though you didn’t like me?” he said arrogantly.

“I don’t” you tried to keep your composure even though his fingers felt so good inside of you. 

“Judging by your wet cunt you seem to like me very much, babygirl” he said while grabbing a fistful of your hair. You couldn’t argue because if you really hated him why were you so desperate to have his length inside of you? 

Jisungs fingers pulled out of you, your juices covered his digits and as his fingers got closer to your face you opened your mouth and sucked them clean. He harshly pulls you up by your hair, now sitting on the edge of the bed as Jisung stands infront of you. His dick had both girth and length which made your mouth water by just the sight. The red tip was decorated with a bead of precum and as he still held your hair he put the tip against your lips. Instantly you started sucking him off. First you kitten licked the tip of his immense dick being a bit afraid of his size but Jisung got impatient and yanked you by your hair once again, making you take him fully in your mouth and choking. Your eyes burned as they teared up but that didn’t stop you from sucking him off, hollowing your cheeks and bobbing your head profusely. He didn’t seem too impressed though. 

“I think I found one thing babygirl can’t do. Sucking dick” he grinned as he looked you deep in the eyes for a second before he bucked his hips into your mouth and facefucked you. His length hit the back of your throat everytime he fucked into you but you were to busy looking at his perfect face. Those sinful grunts that came out from his mouth made you rub your thighs in desperation. How could someone you hated look so ethereal with his dick in your mouth? The way sweat beads formed around his temple and coated a couple of those light brown streaks. The way his big hand held your hair tightly and most importantly those sounds. Those lewd sounds that rolled off his tongue. 

He rolled his head back and then looked back at you, catching you staring at him. 

“No I definitely think babygirl likes me. Those loving eyes don’t lie” he uttered, staring at you and stroking a piece of your hair behind your ear. 

As he pulled out you caught your breath and coughed a for bit before you scooted back on the bed, dragging Jisung by his hand which landed him on top of you once again. He seperated your legs with his knee and lined himself up with your entrance before slowly pushing into you. His girth with the slow movement made you roll your eyes back, the feeling of being filled made you content. 

“Fuck...you feel so tight” he said, brows furrowed as he started to slowly push in and out of you. You wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him into a kiss to muffle your moans. The pace steadily increased as you bit his bottom lip while kissing, returning the favor from before that contributed to your swollen lips. When the kiss broke a string of spit seperated your lips as the both of you panted from the thrusts that were becoming more aggressive. You moaned as you gripped onto the bedsheets upon which your knuckles whitened. Jisungs noises turned you on crazily but when he snaked his hand around your neck you could only whine in response. He choked you and held you pinned down stopping you from squirming away.  The other hand was circling your clit which only heightened the pleasure, eyes rolling back into your skull. A squeak erupted from the bed everytime Jisung pounded into your soaked cunt but that wasn’t the only sound. The both of you moaned in unison which fit the sound of skin slapping that was filling the room. You tightly shut your eyes trying to silence a moan but opened them soon after, meeting Jisungs brown orbs. His lids were low from the blunt smoke but that only gave his arrogant attitude a boost. 

You could feel that he was near by the way his dick twitched inside of you. Feeling cocky you decided to clench against his length which also pushed you closer to your own release. He was clearly getting pissed and leaned down to your neck, sucking purple marks onto it which would be impossible to cover up. You whined and squirmed as you needed to go to school tomorrow and couldn’t bear the strange looks from others when your neck was covered in bruises. 

“That’s what you get for clenching around me like a little slut” he growled against your neck as you clenched around him once again earning a moan from him. Now he was getting really close and so were you. His thrusts got harder but sloppier, your boobs bouncing with the pace. You clenched around him one last time and that was the trigger for Jisungs release. The vein on his neck popped up to the surface as his jaw hanged open. Your cunt filled with his warm load which made you cum grip tightly on anything beside you. The both of you rode out the orgasm which made your legs shake and spine bend up from the mattress. Eventually Jisung pulled out leaving you feeling empty with his white cum dripping out of your hole. He layed beside you and panted, chest heaving. You layed there in silence for a minute, only the sound of heavy breathing could be heard in the dark evening. Deciding to clean up the mess he had made you stood up causing the cum to leak down your unstable leg but before you could take a step Jisung grabbed your soft hand and pulled you down onto the bed again. You looked at him in confusion. 

“You weren’t planning on leaving me without any cuddles?” he said with a slightly whining voice.  

You couldn’t believe what you heard. Before another thought could cross your mind you were already snuggled up in his arms, your head against his heaving chest. It was cozy and you felt safe despite that you barely knew him. You stroked his cheek gently as you observed his perfect facial features. Sure, his attitude could use some work but his face had a flawless charm. 

“We should study more often” he muttered against your hair as he kissed you on your head. 

Even if the caring boy was high off his rockers your heart fluttered at his words. You blushed as you snuggled closer to his chest, falling sound asleep in his grasp. 

[prfctethereal]

just another horror movie. | james potter

pairing: james potter x reader

chapter: one 

warnings: NSFW, smut, oral (male receiving), exhibitionism, talk of dead bodies, actual dead body, blood, vomiting

word count: 3.7k

read the prologue here or on ao3 here

summary: you and james take a quick detour through the woods, to have a bit of morning fun, but find something gruesome.

Three weeks earlier…

The quiet town of Hogwarts had never been quieter. It was typical though; towns that resided in the countryside of Scotland were often described as “quiet”, unbeknownst to most that it was anything but. Except, Hogwarts lived up to the stereotype. Peaceful, tame, quiet.

Quiet.

God, you needed some quiet.

Exam season was narrowing in, which meant endless nights of caffeine and random studying music that you found on spotify, its main purpose to help you concentrate. It was unfortunate, with the school year coming to a close, but you were determined to leave the year proud and satisfied with your work. Everything was going perfectly so far. Nothing could screw it up.

This is what you told yourself as you began your walk to school this morning. Leaving your house at seven in the morning on the dot had become the regular for you. Now that Summer was finally coming in, the walks were warm, without chilling breezes. You could feel comfortable with the wind in your hair and a light shirt on your back.

Something felt tranquil about this morning in particular. You didn’t feel held up or anxious. You didn’t even feel stressed as you busily organised your school bag this morning. You didn’t even blink an eye when you dropped your chemistry textbook on your foot. You were in a good mood. You were glowing.

Maybe it was because you had been getting some amazing sex from your amazing boyfriend lately.

Maybe.

But today wasn’t for what ifs. Today, you had one thing on your mind. A conversation needed to be had between you and your guidance counsellor, as the prospects of colleges were starting to roll around. Applications were beginning to close and your aspirations for life after high school were beginning to get clearer and clearer. You no longer wanted to be tied down in a small town, where the most important job you could get was at the Mayor’s office, sitting at a desk, listening to the complaints of highly egotistical citizens.

Wasn’t for you.

Your mind drifted off to your could-be life, and before you knew it, your legs had walked to your boyfriend’s house without you even realising. It was something unconscious and natural, something you were completely used to. The sight of the grand, three-story mansion that your lover lived in brought unprecedented comfort.

The spiralling pillars covered in the greenest of vines was something from a fairytale. A pale cerulean was painted across the panelling, giving a dream-like feel. Right above the front door housed a giant window, one that opened up into James’ bedroom.

Right. James.

Walking up the path, you felt comforted by the familiar sound of gravel beneath your feet. It reminded you of all the nights you had snuck up this very path to climb into James’ bedroom via the window. Nostalgic really.

Now you were here in broad daylight, ready to walk hand in hand with your boyfriend to school. Knocking on the front door, you were excited to see a nearly immediate opening of the door, with a very joyous boy standing there. His signature dopey smile glistened even brighter, as his eyes lingered over your clothed body a little longer than expected. His tongue shot out very quickly over the pink cushions of his lips, something you could’ve missed in a blink of an eye, but you didn’t. Laughing, he pushed his glasses up the nose of his bridge, before running his fingers through his unruly hair.

“Should we go then?” It sounded as though it was the first time James had spoken this morning, a fact that you didn’t mind, as your brain thought unholy things when listening to his gravely morning voice.

“Soon.” You mumbled, your voice trailing off slightly, as you stepped towards James, swinging your arms around the back of his neck. Taking a breath of his scent, you leaned forward, placing a delicate kiss upon his lips. They were slightly chapped, but you didn’t care.

It may have been a Summer day, but that wasn’t the only reason you were feeling hot.

Stopping yourself before you went too far, you pulled backwards, not before suggestively running your hands down James’ chest, smirking against his lips. “Come on, let's go.” You remarked playfully, smacking your hand lightly against James’ firm butt, which elicited a short laugh from the bubbly man.

So, hand in hand, you and James darted down his footpath, back into the street. Even more birds had woken up by now, with a choir of chirping serenading your descent into the bustling streets of Hogwarts.

Everything now seemed a little more public than you initially thought. Neighbours were waking up and going to work now too, giving no shorter than five second glances at you and James’ hand intertwined. You know what they would say; old people gossiped too much for your liking. It made you especially nervous, knowing that your parents didn’t know about your illicit relationship. Maybe it should stay that way. Well, before any neighbours get a little too gossipy in the weekly book club meetings.

“Are you listening to me?” James asked, snapping you out of your thoughtful haze. Blinking twice, you returned your attention to James, who’s eyes were laced with concern as he looked you over once again, eyebrows furrowed. “You seem out of it.”

“Oh, sorry.” Your voice came out almost silently as you looked away, flushed and embarrassed. “What were you talking about?”

“How I was going to fuck you so hard later today that you are going to struggle to walk.” James followed his statement with a dash of laughter, something that you mimicked like a pirate’s parrot.

“Well, I hope that’s not a joke, my dear.” You flashed a sly smile, looking James up and down. You both stopped walking, with James now admiring the way you were biting your lip, as if you were a siren trying to entrap him. Surely, you guys wouldn’t quickly dash away into the bush and go for a quickie right now, right?

James thought about it too, eyeing up someone’s poor hydrangea bush. Unfortunately, there would be too many witnesses, and exhibitionism wasn’t something you had both openly discussed before, although it wasn’t completely off the table.

“Lunch period.” James finally said, stopping his momentary halt, and marching forward.

“Lunch period?”

James leaned over, pressing his lips so close to your ear. His hot breath sent shivers down your spine, ones that ended in your core. “Meet me in the hallway between the chemistry and physics lab. I think there’s a new cupboard we could Christen.”

Giggling in excitement, you rubbed your fingers up the length of James’ arm, tugging him down the footpath, continuing your conversation about whatever. You learnt that he had a History test today, all about women earning the right to vote. You sighed as you listened to him talk about what he was passionate about, his stressed vowel sounds turning you on more than you would’ve thought.

Then came a predicament. An actual, real life crossroad. Right in front of you was where the footpath curved to the left, following along the road onto the main road through town. It was the way you went every day, with the road taking you directly to school when you walked along it, arriving perfectly at seven twenty-five every day. It was ideal.

This morning, though, you were feeling cheeky. From this footpath curve was another opportunity. The footpath also opened into a dirt path, something that twisted into the woods, or, as the conspiracy theorists of the town called it, the Forbidden Forest. It was hardly forbidden though; they literally took Scouts classes there, and those have kids as young as seven in them.

Feeling devilish, you paused James for a moment, the cogs turning over in your brain. You might arrive at school a little later than you first thought, but at least you would have some distance between the prying eyes of the Hogwarts neighbourhood. And maybe, you could have a little bit of fun too.

“James,” you smirked, tugging at the edge of his shirt, capturing his attention, something that wasn’t actually that hard to do, “shall we go for a detour this morning?”

Your eyes flashed over the forest and onto the quiet stillness of it. You could feel James’ heart rate speed up, but it wasn’t because he was scared. He was just as excited as you. It was like a switch had flicked on in his brain, although he was still hesitant, his feet still planted firmly on the ground.

“Are you sure?” James questioned. “How late is this going to make us?”

“Not that late at all.” You justified, mocking offence. “Oh, we should get there at maybe, quarter to eight? And besides, it’s fresh air, it’ll be good for us, and our lungs. Think of it as reversing the side effects of being around Sirius and Remus when they smoke all the time. Your lungs will thank us.”

“I’m not sure that’s how it works.” James laughed.

“How would you be so sure?”

“I’m the one that takes biology out of the two of us.”

You had to try another tactic, so, you jutted your bottom lip out of your mouth, putting on your best doe eyes, hoping you could flutter your eyelashes enough for him to give into temptation. “Please?”

A sigh escaped James lips as he seemed to give in. His reluctant look of worry was quickly replaced by an eager spark. Knitting his fingers in with yours, you two walked hand and hand together down the dirt path. The change of feeling beneath your feet was almost instantly recognisable, the normal, smooth, concrete path replaced by the rough dirt, and slight mud, even though it hadn't rained in days.

As you continued to wander down the path, you were suddenly covered in a canopy of shade, as the trees of the forest soon covered your heads. The route got a tad darker, the path no longer illuminated with the light of the sun, not that you minded though. You could still easily see where you were going.

You felt a little colder without the extra heat from the sun. You didn’t like the way goosebumps rose on your skin or the way you had to rub your hands along your arm to keep yourself warm. You felt out of control, a feeling of which you loathed. You didn’t want your perfect morning to be ruined by a little chill.

When you reached a tall, winding tree, you stopped James from his walk, pulling him off the path. Luckily, you had spotted a small dip in the earth, perfect to stay in, somewhere where regular bystanders wouldn’t find you. Happy with your discovery, you looked back at James, who had a puzzled look across his face.

“What’s going on?”

“Can I kiss you?” You asked breathlessly, your hands already getting fidgety. You wanted to be connected with James again, intertwined if you will. You needed to feel his skin, even if it was barely quarter past seven in the morning.

“Yes, love.” James breathed out, his voice quiet and shallow. WIth the consent, you leaned upwards, connecting your lips at last. It felt right to be pressed up against each other once again, even if it had been only yesterday when you had last felt such passion.

You deepened the kiss, feeling urgent to make the most of the short time you had together. Your mouths melded together almost perfectly, your lips pushing against each other like a playful pillow fight, one which you were determined to win.

Feeling mischievous, you reached to James’ hair, tugging lightly on his roots, an action you knew he liked. This action got the response you wanted from him, a needy moan, in which you took the opportunity to slip your tongue into his mouth, battling it out with his own, regaining confidence and dominance.

You pulled away, your cheeks flushed from the lack of oxygen. James looked disheveled but pleased, wanting to continue your little make out session, but unfortunately, you had limited time.

“Can I suck you off?” You whispered against his mouth innocently, looking up at his hazel eyes, brushing his hair off of his forehead. You could hear him gulp with nervousness, before nodding quickly, his hands making their way to his slacks.

You knew James was slipping into a mindset clouded by arousal, so you sank to your knees slowly in front of him, still looking up at him through your long lashes. On your journey downwards, you carefully unzipped the zipper on his pants, pulling them down to ankles, until he was clad in only his boxers.

Lifting yourself up slightly onto the balls of your feet, you kissed him lightly on the outside of his boxers, feathering gentle kisses. You knew you were being a tease, but you needed him nice and hard. As you felt his bulge setting like cement under your lips, you lifted your hands up, joining your lips so you could palm him, stroking the material.

When James started moaning, - “oh please, stop teasing, I beg you,” - you released him from the cage of his underwear, dragging the clothing down the apex of his things, watching the muscles twitch in excitement. There, James’ half hard cock laid against his thighs, the tip a gentle rouge colour.

Your fingers grazed over his prick, lightly tracing a prominent vein of the underside of the sex muscle. James groaned in pleasure, the teasing getting too much for him to handle. Feeling benevolent, you dribbled saliva over the tip of the cock, before wrapping your entire hand around it. You started stroking harder and faster, making sure James could feel all of you in a way you hand. He was starting to fall apart above you, but it wasn;t enough.

“So- so good.” James murmured, his eyes gently shutting as he became lost in the feeling. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop. I love your hands, so perfect, so precise. Perfect for me, precise for me.”

“It was like you were made for me.” You agreed with the raven haired boy, before bringing your lips down to the tip of his penis. This action shocked James, but the whimper out of his mouth made you know he was enjoying it. Living from the excitement of the exhibisionist route, you swiveled your tongue across the tip, reaching down the length of the cock, savouring his taste.

“Right there.” James moane, as you brung the rest of your mouth down over his now fully hard cock, reveling in the flavour of the salty precum that was leaking from his angry tip. With a smooth rhythm, you bobbed your head up and down on James’ cock, the sound of his moans itching you on.

You knew you were running out of time, and you still wanted him to cum, so you sped up your movements on James’ cock, stroking the base of his cock, which could not fit in your mouth. Adding to the pleasure, you let your hands move downwards a bit more, so they played gently with James’ hanging balls.

This applied pressure was becoming too much for James, as his breath became laboured and a tingling feeling was nearly bursting at his cock. “I’m gonna cum, please, I’m going to do it.”

You lifted your mouth off of James’ cock, just to murmur, “let go.” James, with your permission, spurted his cum across your hands. Eager to savour him, you opened your mouth, catching as much of the milking substance as possible, not wanting to waste any of it. Jacking James off through the entire thing, you watched as his orgasm crashed over him entirely, the way his face contorted in pleasure almost being the most beautiful portrait to you.

Licking the rest of his cum off of your fingers, you stood up, wiping your knees off, as the dirt sticking to you was becoming slightly uncomfortable. While you stood up, you reached from the top of James’ pants, pulling them upwards as you went.

“Thanks.” James almost laughed, except he still sounded out of breath, which was very reasonable though. You did just suck the life out of him. His fingers worked quickly, rearranging his pants, and cock, so that you both could continue on your way to school.

As you waited for James to finish cleaning himself up, your nose turned upwards. There was a strange smell coming from the area, one you didn’t notice before when you were on your knees in front of James. It was a smell that you were relatively unfamiliar with, but all you knew was that it stank like rotten meat.

“Can you smell that?” You asked James, looking off into the little ditch you were beside. Wherever you were, it seemed that it had been recently disturbed. Broken twigs snapped into pieces laid amongst crunched up leaves. If you squinted, you were sure you could even make out that faintest of footprints on the ground. It was odd, but nothing you haven't seen before in the woods. The smell on the other hand…

“Smells like thrown out vegetables.” James readjusted his glasses before holding out his hand, inviting you to close your fingers in with his. “I bet some old granny thought it would be a good idea to throw out their compost in the woods. If the council found out, they would have a fit. You know all about their weirdly tight rules on littering? It’s not even bad for the environment.”

You had stopped listening a while ago. Something didn’t feel right, but it was nothing you could sort out now. You weren’t satisfied but you turned back towards James anyway, knowing that you needed to head off to school or you would be running a little bit behind schedule. As you turned around, you noticed James’ face morph from a cheeky grin to a concerned frown.

“What is it?” You pondered, stepping towards James, matching his pear-shaped frown with one of your own.

“Did you cut yourself when you were on your knees?”

“Huh?”

“Look.” James bent down to look at your knees and you turned your head down too. What you thought had just been a bit of dirt must’ve been something else. Your knees were covered in a browny-red, maybe a maroon colour. It looked as though your entire knee had been cut open, as blood was still dripping from your skin, but that couldn’t be right. You felt no pain on your knee. You hadn’t cut yourself.

Swiping your fingers across your knee, you gathered some of the drying blood on your fingers. This was the first time you had looked at your hands since you wiped off your knees before and you saw that you had smudged blood stains all across your palm. You nearly barfed on the spot. You felt incredibly uneasy, like a stormy ocean filled your stomach.

You lifted your fingers up to your nose, a theory hypothesising into your head, and you were right. The smell of the blood matched the rotten meat smell you could smell before. As if you were a dog, the odor latched onto your nose and expanded, its putrid smell being the only thing in your senses.

“I'm going to be sick.” You doubled over a rock. Resting your hand against a boulder, you hovered downwards over a patch of leaves, letting your breakfast out. Your head was reeling as you could still smell the retching odor of the old blood. You couldn’t get it out of your mind, so you leaned over again, round two of the hurling intervention.

James rushed over to you, placing his warm hands on your back, rubbing soothing circles. He wished he could say that his main focus was to make you feel better, but it wasn’t. Over in the deepest part of the dish, he noticed something strange. It was almost like a small lump in the ground, something unnatural. It seemed to be covered very messily by old leaves and sticks, and an entire tree branch, as if it would make it any less inconspicuous. It even had that opposite of the desired effect, seemingly sticking out like a sore thumb.

“Darling,” James waited until you lifted your head back up, regaining your breath once again, “what do you think that is?”

James’ hand pointed into the direction of the ditch, in which you followed his eyesight and body movements. You could see it too; just a lump in the ground. Your mind was racing of what it could be. A dead animal? A pile of rotten food? Maybe a…

“Holy shit!” You had only just realised that James had already walked over there, except his body was covering your eye line, and you couldn’t actually see what James had found. Although, he told you immediately. “Quick, call the police. It’s a body.”

A dead body in Hogwarts? Making sure you didn’t lose any more of your stomach through puking, you rushed onto the path in the woods, grabbing your phone out of your pocket, hoping you could get service all the way out here in the woods. Fumbling to turn your phone on, you nearly groaned out in annoyance when you saw that you were getting no bars of service.

Running back to James, you couldn’t stop at the moment. You called out to him, your words a blurred mess, trying to convey to him that you were going to find someone to help. Unsure if he had even heard you, you ran back down the path, your feet carrying you to where you needed to go, unable to bring yourself to a cohesive thought.

When you exited the forest, you flicked your head around, trying to find someone, anyone, that could help in the moment. The first person you saw was your calculus teacher, Mr Slughorn, to which you promptly called out to.

“Mr Slughorn!” You cupped your hands around your mouth to project your words across louder. Mr Slughorn snapped his head around and gave a friendly wave. Annoyed, you shook your head. “Call the police!”

“What?” He called back, walking towards you now. You groaned, trying again.

“There's a dead body in the forest. Call the police!”

***

lmao. anyway this has become a series whoops.

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Sound Proof

okay so this fic was from Wattpad and I found it in my google docs so I’m just gonna upload it here for ya’ll lol. I didn’t tag, I wrote this a while ago let me know what ya’ll think!!!

Warnings: Smut.

With dancing, came immense concentration and a lot of cardio.

That was all okay for Damara. She wore her silk pressed hair back into a pony, simple Polo Ralph Lauren hat on to keep her edges slicked back, high waist thin grey leggings, all white cropped tank, and matching white Vans. Damara held onto the aluminum double bar Ballet barre, studying her glistening reflection within the wall mirrors that covered every single area from floor to ceiling. 

Her chest rose and fell, right hand coming up to rub sweat off the tip of her nose. She had thirty minutes down, only twenty more to go. Being a pro dancer was fun when you posted tutorials on Instagram and YouTube, but when it came down to touring internationally and getting a chance to perform at Coachella, dance became a full time job.

Damara stares down at her version three iWatch, allowing herself to become consumed with the breathing app. She watched it expand with every breath, then declined whenever she exhaled. After her breathing returned to normal, Damara pulled up her iTunes playlist again, choosing to go sensual with a little bit of flash dance routine.

The instrumental to Kendrick Lamar- Love.

This song was always a warm up for her because it got her ‘in the mood’. She could feel the want and need behind the beat and his words. Damara snakes her hands up her frame, sliding slowly from the cuff of her ass, to her lower back, and lightly up and over her shoulders, forearms pressing into her large D cup breasts. 

One thing is for sure, Damara could move her torso like Shakira, body rolling and ticking to the beat with perfect harmony. Doing a sudden spin on her tiptoes, Damara Lowers herself to the polished flooring, arching her back off of the surface with her legs spread into a V, before lifting her lower half off the ground to do a series of air kicks like she was back in an 80s workout video or like she was in Kanye West’s video for Fade instead of Teyana Taylor.

She turned over onto her hands, hitting a side to side split perfectly before lifting from the ground to walk seductive and tantalizing towards the middle of the dance studio.

That’s where it began, the sweatiest most bewitching dance yet. Her hands cascade everywhere, eyes closed to take in the beat with heightened hearing. Her hands rubbed along the outline of her pussy in a teasing manner. Damara was so shameless when it came to dancing provocatively. She twirled and made an S with her body like a snake, body in sync to the beat. The sultry look in her eyes could trap you like Medusa. You would think she danced to one of Prince's songs from the outside looking in. 

The song came to an end, Damara lifting her shirt over her head and tossing it in the corner, picking up her gallon water bottle to take a huge sip. She wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand, feeling the burn in her curvy waistline from all the crunching and belly rolling that came with dancing. Her gluteal muscles were on fire as well, causing Damara to admire her ass in the mirror, sweat staining the crack of her ass over the fabric. 

—

Finishing up, Damara grabs all her things before leaving the dance studio at the gym she finally snagged a membership for. The gym had two sections: one for premium guests who had VIP access to the soundproof workout rooms or standard. Sadly, Damara was standard. She always wanted to workout in the soundproof tinted glass rooms like all the extremely fit individuals did, but one look through those glasses at the equipment housed within would make you withdraw with fear. Her personal trainer had stressed for her to go VIP, bribing her with access to the ice bath room and luxury pool where you can watch the LA skyline like you’re in a hotel.

She made a left at the end of the hall, walking with her shirt and towel over her shoulder to the main gymnasium area full of musky people and terrible workout music. Even though Damara did a one hour session of dancing, she couldn’t help but to gravitate towards the stair master for a good fifteen minute burn. Once there, Damara climbs the stairs, beginning her workout on nine speed, instantly feeling the ache. Her eyes scanned the area, finally landing on a group of women huddled around one of the sound proof workout rooms for VIP gold card members. 

She let out a tired chuckle, shaking her ponytail clad head before pausing to drink some water. Of COURSE they would all salivate over some random ass man instead of working out, because that’s what gyms are for these days. On queue every day Damara comes to the gym, once the clock strikes 8 pm, a hoard of women suffocate the glass, fogging it with their heavy breathing and wetting it with saliva from their wiggling tongues. Damara would have been one of them if she listened to her group of girlfriends who didn’t come in tonight. Supposedly, there is this fine ass man that comes to the gym every day, around 8 pm. Damara never seems to catch him, and even if she did, no man was that fine to act like a hyena over. He couldn’t be that sexy.

“Ooo, girl, let me get off this got damn treadmill he back again!” Damara turned to find a short, slim, mocha skinned girl with a track runners body ogling the group of women, her friend who looked like she could be her sister, biting her lip.

“I wonder if he’s doing the pull ups right now, fuckk. You know his dick stay hard when he working out.” 

The other girl laughs, “I just want to suck it. Just give me one good time!” 

Both women laughed while Damara tries her best to work out and ignore them. But to her surprise, she couldn’t focus. Not because of the talking, but because she wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Maybe after this she could rub it in her friends faces that whoever this guy was, wasn’t about the hype after all.

Defeated, Damara stopped her workout, quickly lowering herself off the machine and towards some spray and paper towels to wipe away her sweat. Tossing everything, Damara makes her way towards the sound proof workout room straight across from the men’s locker room. 

Here she was, and yet just a few minutes ago she was laughing to herself at how ridiculous it was to come to a gym and stare at a man for two hours. Wasn’t no man fine enough for that.

The glass window straight ahead had about seven ladies standing in front of it, whispering and admiring at what looked like absolutely nothing to Damara. It was so dark she couldn’t see a thing. As she got closer, at first, all she could see through that glass was the usual workout machines of all types and weight racks. Just before she could walk away, he started lifting those weights. Suddenly, as if pulled by some type of force field, Damara turned into a fan girl with glossy eyes and a watery mouth. He had to be the one her friends were talking up. There is no way he couldn’t be the one with how fine he is. 

“This must be your first time noticing Erik.” 

Damara turned to the lady who looked to be twice her age standing next to her.

Damara didn’t respond, she simply looked back at him through that tinted glass. He was so fucking sexy that her jaw dropped; literally. Erik was definitely the one her friends were juiced up over. Not the juice you drink, but the drip from that pussy when she hungry for a nigga as damn fine as he is. 

Erik had been bench pressing weights and she couldn’t get a good enough look at him until he lowered the weights. Yeah, when he was laid out on his back, sweaty muscles moving as he lifted 280 pounds over his head he looked good, but GOD once he stood up was she slapped with his looks.

Erik was wearing sweat shorts that dropped low around his waist, a damp sweat top and a pair of Nike Air Max Trainer 1s on his feet.

His braided back dreads were damp from the perspiration; it really set off his caramel complexion.

Erik returned his weights to their respective places and stood facing that mirror with a bottle of gatorade. Damara could really see how perfect he was. Fine wasn’t even the word, it was so much she could say about him. The look in his eyes, the way his muscles moved in conjunction with him, the smoothness of his skin, the hairstyle that compliments him very well, and let’s not forget those lips. She figured he got many compliments on his lips, as beautiful and suckable as they were. That thick erection he was sporting was an added bonus. All she could see was herself lowering onto it and rocking like crazy, like she was riding a horse. When she returned to reality from her lustful daze, she noticed her hands were flat against the glass, jaw STILL dropped, and her nipples tender and hard practically clawing at him. They were so hard that they were hurting, and the feeling of his lips pulling and sucking and licking on them would have been exactly what she needed, just pull her shirt down and suck em.

All of that talk and fantasizing in her head, ironically made his eyes meet hers. Damara swore she thought those big, dark eyes could see her and only her. The lady she ignored next to her smiled, like she knew what Damara was going through. She did, that’s why her and the others were still there.

——

Feeling a little foolish and embarrassed by her behavior, Damara asked the lady next to her if Erik could see them or was it one of those half way windows.

“Girl, he can see us alright. That’s why his dick is so big and hard poking through those shorts. He sees something he likes.” 

Damara looked back at him, and right then like a spark had been ignited, he smiled a little at her with dimples, then winked before downing the rest of his gatorade. Damara could feel her knees buckle, body so nervous. She decided it was most definitely time to bounce. That night, Damara never told her girls about seeing the living legend, but she did go back the following day, a Wednesday, to stare him down at that window again. She purposely went there alone to have him to herself. It was crazy how obsessed he became.

——

After about a week or so of admiring Erik through that glass, Damara decided to take it up a notch and use the adjoining women’s workroom; yeah, like she could actually bench press any of the equipment in there. Getting into that women’s workroom meant that she had to become a gold member. The upgrade was about 20 dollars more, which landed her to about 80 dollars a month; great.

She felt like she’d been walking the yellow brick road to the emerald city. Opening those double glass doors to her new sanctuary,  she could smell musk no longer, only fresh air and a cool breeze. The music was even better in there, sicko mode playing low through the speakers. It was approximately 7:50 pm, so she knew Erik would be arriving soon. 

At about 8:15, a little later than usual, Erik pulled open the doors and walked into the men’s workroom. He had his dreads crinkled and messy, a pair of Beats solo 3 in black with gold trim over his ears, black Nike pro training top that clung to his body like it was two sizes too small, matching black shorts that hung low on his hips with the waistband of his compression pants peeking through. He hadn’t immediately seen Damara on the other side since she was in the corner tugging on the pull ropes that she couldn’t make budge. She didn’t really know what to do. If she popped out of nowhere near that window, she could scare him to death, and he’d be mad. He looked like the no nonsense type too. 

Damara decided that hiding wouldn’t fix anything so she came out into the open to do some yin yoga poses that helped stretch her body. Sitting Indian style, she started with the butterfly, bending forward while gripping her shoes. The stretch made her moan, all the tension in her back disappearing. Next, she decided on the dragon, bringing one foot forward in a low lunge, stretching out her glutes and back again. Admiring herself, she liked the way her ass looked in the tinted mirror, and apparently so did Erik. Her heart dropped to her stomach like she’d been on the tallest roller coaster, her eyes reverting towards the ground. Damara could feel his eyes on her still as she lifted from the ground, rolling her neck. With one hand on the back of her neck to stretch the muscles, her eyes met his again. That same slight smile graced his face again, almost innocent, but those eyes were dark and sultry, like hot coal.

The heat turned down just a little, Erik walking away leaving Damara a flustered mess.

——

He started out with a little cross training. Damara watched from her workout mat in between doing crunches. Next, he pumped a little iron. She noticed how he enjoyed admiring himself when he lifted weights. The veins in his arms would bulge so much it looked like they wanted to break the surface of his skin. She could see his mouth slightly opened, concentration set in his features, and she just knew he was making those grunting, straining noises that guys make when they workout. Watching those muscles flex and bulge like that made her weak in the knees again. She liked the feeling. When he lay on his back to do the leg lifts, that’s when she lost it in a major way. The weight Damara had in her hand to do Russian twists fell down on her shoulder. She screamed out without even knowing it. All she could feel was pain beginning to throb in her left shoulder, and she laid back on the floor massaging it with a whimper. Unfortunately, at that time Erik was the last thing on her mind. When Damara got enough nerve to look at the window, Erik was pressed against it looking at her. He mouthed to her since it was sound proof, “You aight, Lil Mama?”

After Damara figured out his words, she nodded and gave him the okay symbol with a tired smile. Erik stares at her for a few seconds, scanning her frame in that PUMA workout suit she decided to wear, then moved on to the leg machine again. Damara liked the way he scouted her, and that made the pain in her shoulder go unnoticed.

——

Throughout their workouts, they would peep each other, and he liked the attention she was showering him with. There he was again with those pull-ups, directly facing her with intimidation in his eyes. Somehow, he had lost his shirt along the way, sweat pouring off his body like he’d been doing push-ups in the rain. 

Damara’s workout suit was almost see-through and hugging all her curves, and he definitely paid attention because his erection was good and hard, tenting the front of those black workout shorts like wild. Damara wanted to think it was solely her making those pants tent like that, but working the hell out of those machines may have played a role in it. She’s good, but not that good.

The more she looked at Erik, the more she wanted to taste him, feel him pressing into her throat. 

Damara looked down at her iWatch and realized it was minutes to closing time, but she couldn’t leave that room, let alone that window. She hated to leave because he was worth staying and getting caught with. Knowing the kind of man Erik was, he probably got a kick out of the chicks staring his fine ass down, then going home to his equally fine ass girl. That was the kind of luck Damara had: finding the juiciest man on the planet, but not able to land him because he was taken.

Damara suddenly had a lightbulb moment. Erik was a gold member, with a passkey to leave the gym if he ever got locked in. Damara could lie and say she lost her passkey, having to go to him to get out...or to get off! Shit, lord knows she needs that, it’s been way too long. Suddenly, Erik made a move she hadn’t been prepared for. He stepped away from the weight trainer and approached the window again. Damara couldn’t move, couldn’t muster a speech, all she could do was watch him approach her with that sweaty, perfect body. Maybe not so perfect to some because it was littered with tiny raised scars, but to her it was absolutely perfect. Man, the closer he got to her, the hotter she got. In all her orgasmic nonsense with a pussy so wet and probably creaming her panties, it soon dawned on her that he probably approached her to ask her why she’s still there; that maybe he was tired of being stared at as if he were a zoo animal. Damara got scared and backed up.

Erik backed up a bit, confusion on his face before chuckling, giving her a head to toe view of him, then he got busy. His eyes stared into hers as he massaged that massive erection up and down through his pants. Damara could feel her nectar elevating within her core. Then it hit her, he was about to give her a private sex show. Was she about to bounce? Fuck no, she stayed and watched everything that pretty nigga did.

When his erection got hard and thick within his pants, he let out a fucking dazzling smile that could make her cum right there. No man had ever smiled so wickedly at her that her panties got wet; then again, she’d never met Erik. His pecs were mouthwatering to the point of drool, contours and ripples were everywhere. All her nasty little tongue wanted to do was lick, lick from his collarbone to his abs and continue south. Her hands shook as they clutched her chest, feeling her nipples brush against her fingers. All the while, her eyes never left his.

——-

Bending to remove his shoes and socks was a chore because that delicious dick was in the way, but he managed. His fingers beckoned Damara to get closer. Damara knew he was going to slide his pants down next, the nigga was clever with his seduction. She moved back to that window, and watched him slide his shorts to his hips. His dick bounced out, sprang to life, and she dropped to her knees, wondering how all that would feel stroking her insides. He was real heavy, the type of dick where the tip and about two inches could only fit in the pussy. The type of dick where you would push him away while he blew your back out from getting too deep. The type of dick where you had to use two hands to jerk while you sucked; you really gotta be a pro to suck a dick like that with no hands, not to mention ride a dick like that.

Erik bit at his plump bottom lip, massaging it with his tongue while his hand massaged that long pole; that damn snake. The more he stroked, the bigger and bigger it became within his hand. He strokes that beautiful dick until he was about ready to nut. He mouthed at her through that sound proof glass, 

“I want that throat.”

His muscles tensed, he squeezed it harder, and playfully rubbed it against the glass directly where her mouth was. She swore she could taste him, feel him sliding it between her lips and forcing his inches into her. Erik stroked it so hard that she could see the moisture forming on his tip. Damara couldn’t help herself, she had to reach between her thighs and stroke her pussy to match his tempo. Damara pulled her suit down, revealing her drenched sports bra and panties to him. She didn’t want to waste any time the way her fingers made its way to her panties, pulling the fabric to the side to reveal her wet sticky treat. The more he stroked himself, the deeper her fingers slide into her valley; all three of them. When Erik dropped to the floor, she scrambled to see what he was going to do next. It was fucking outrageous! That pretty ass nigga got on his back and moved his hips up and down like a bitch was on top of him. Damara screamed in ecstasy over the sight of it. Her fingers went deeper and deeper like she was trying to scoop her cum out the pussy. She turned around and arched her back, rubbing at her clit with one hand while fingering herself with the other. He pumped hard and long, perspiration dripping from him, muscles tensing. Damara just knew he was going to explode on the floor instead of her which was a damn shame. No. No fucking way. He turned over on his stomach, and did push-ups, pumping those hips and dick into oblivion. He still hadn’t cum for her yet. His arm shook when he did his one-handed push-ups, dick throbbing in his other hand. She felt her orgasm building deep in her belly, her legs shaking from muscle strain and intense pleasure. That was the grand finale, watching him cream into his own hands while staring her down. 

Damara screamed out, Cumming on her fingers with a shake of her body.

——

He returned to his back and pressed out so much cum that she almost fainted from the orgasm he gave her. When her breathing returned to normal, Damara looked into her hand, now covered with so much of her own thick moisture that her fingers were sticking together. Then she glanced up at him watching her with a sweet smile on those wonderful lips—his erection was still in his hand and still harder than boulders. 

The windows were nice and steamed by the time he and Damara finished. She watched him grab the rest of his belongings and headed for the showers. Damara took off as well, figuring that was all she’d get from him. 

Damara made her way to the showers herself, letting her plan go. At least she got a good show from him so she was thankful. 

While in the shower, Damara couldn’t help but smile as she wet her body under the steamy water. She struggled to fight the urge that this was it and probably her last sex show a man would ever give her and he didn’t even touch her. Damara allowed the warm water to trickle down her aching joints and relaxed. Her body mitt delicately encircled her breasts, pretending the sultry touch was Erik’s fingers, sucking on them gently before making a tongue track down to her core. She shuddered in waves of heat. Her body trembled, spasms, taking her mind off the pain from her injured shoulder. She completely gave in to pleasure and let the most tremendous orgasm hit her like no other one had ever before...well, until Erik happened on the scene. 

Then.

“Damn, girl.”

The words came from nowhere. Damara assumed they had been in her mind. Nonetheless, her eyes opened and she twirled around to see if anyone had come in. There Erik was, standing directly in front of her. Damara tried reaching for her towel but Erik snatched it from the railing before she could get it.

His cool, seductive voice melted into her horny spirit. 

“Imagine how big this dick would be if I would have been standing right above that ass, watching you finger that pussy from the front. All I could see was that phat ass shaking and quivering to some sexual fantasy. Was it about me?” 

Damara couldn’t speak. All she could do was look down at the towel around his midsection, sporting a killer of an erection. Her mouth opened, her voice cracked. 

“I...I, uh…”

“It’s okay, babygirl. I already know that ass was thinking about me. How could you not after the show I gave you.” 

Erik moves toward her, one step away from entering the stall with her. 

“You liked that show I already know that shit. I already know I got you”— he slapped her pussy, then reached around to palm her ass roughly, smacking each ass cheek causing it to sting—“hot enough to want more, right? You should anyway since I gave you a little taste of what the fuck I got,” he pulled his towel off and entered the stall.

It was different from having that window in between them both, Damara covering her nakedness with her arms. Erik pulled them down.

“Don’t you dare cover up a fucking thing.”

The grip on her wrists were so tight her hands shook.

“So, you just walk in women’s locker rooms? What if I wasn’t the only one here?” 

He chuckles, letting her wrists go, “And? I don’t give a fuck about that. It’s okay for me to do whatever I fucking please in here.” He kisses her cheek. “I’m Erik—“

“I know who you are, Erik. Every woman within a five-city radius knows who you are.” 

“Yeah? And who might you be?”

“Damara; nothing exotic, nothing romantic, just regular old Damara.”

“Not from where I’m standing, girl. You are so fucking sexy. I bet you taste good too, I know that pussy enjoyed me pleasing you.”

“It did, I can still feel it.” She lets out a moan.

“Well then that pussy won’t mind if I please you again?”

Damara relaxed, his hands covering her breasts, much the same way they did in her daydream. He stroked the tight tips with his thumbs, then replaced them with his lips. She was right, that mouth was made to suck on some titties. Erik sucked them ferociously, licking them like they were candy. Her head reared back as he sucked like he was trying to milk her. Her back arched off that wall, his arm circling her waist and pulling her close.

“So, you want everything, huh?”

“Every single drop.”

Erik’s muscles tightened around Damara; their bodies pressed against the wall. As the water continues to drench them, he lifted her into his arms; her legs hugged his hips. She felt the tip of that delicious dick play with her opening, tease it, rub up and down on it. She faces him, staring into those delicious brown eyes of his. 

“It’s almost closing time, I couldn’t leave yet without a little taste.” 

It definitely wouldn’t be a little with how big he was. Damara prepares herself for the surprise, her pussy clenching and quivering on its own. Erik takes his fingers to caress her clit, taking a single finger to tease it with a flickering motion. Damara kept a firm grip on his neck, pressed against the shower wall. 

“I’m playing wit that clit good, huh?”

She responds with a bite to his shoulder, her pussy jerking in his hand. Erik brings his fingers to his mouth, spits on them, then brings them back to her clit. He was very generous with his spit, making her pussy extra sloppy. Clearly with him still going at it on her clit he aimed to make her cum this time with his own fingers. 

“Ok, you working my clit,” she felt him take his dick to finish it off, rubbing her clit in circles. The smoothness of the tip of his dick hit every sensitive spot on her clit. 

“Make that pussy cum,” she edged him on.

His hand came down to grip her ass while he worked, her body shuddering, legs securing around him even harder, moans echoing off of the shower walls. 

“Shit, fuck, damn…”

She could feel the sensitivity in her pussy too.

“Open up for me.”

Damara opened wider, Erik bringing his dick to her pussy. He pushed his way in slow, only by a few inches before she clamped up. Her guess was correct, he was too much to take. Damara was scared now, she didn’t know if she could go through with it.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking big,” her eyes grew wide.

“Ha, You knew that already when you saw me jerking it.” 

“I’m too tight.”

“So?” He moves his hips, teasing her walls to let him in further. Her body crunched, hand to his chest. Was she fucking a monster dick or what? His shit was too damn much.

“Chill,” her eyelids fluttered. She wouldn’t be able to stand.

“You’ve been eyeing me all fucking week, teasing me and shit and now you wanna cry about how big my dick is?” 

He kissed at her neck, causing her to moan and rub her wet face against his. She brought her hands to his biceps, squeezing them tightly. 

“Be gentle, okay? It’s too damn big.”

Erik takes that invitation, gripping her hips firm before pressing himself in inch by inch, pausing in between. Each time he entered her it felt like he was ripping her a new hole, but it felt so full in a good way. Along with the pain came a shock of pleasure. The vein on the underside of his shaft rubbed smoothly at the floor of her pussy, a new sensation she had never felt. It curves at the tip to hit her g spot, swiping it each time he moves his hips.

“I don’t think I ever had a dick this good,” she hissed the moment he fully entered her. 

“I already know you didn’t with all that crying you was doing.” He pulled out to the tip, purposely, to make her feel every inch again. Erik pushes back in, watching the way her face went through a series of confused and unprepared emotions. It was time to pick up the pace now. Erik started off slow, his strokes growing and her moans. Damara held onto the rails along the walls of the shower, watching with astonishment how Erik’s dick fucked her.

“Oh, oh, omg,” she shook tremendously, a single hand clawing at Erik’s chest. He simply fucks her with deeper strokes, reminding her what came with every inch. Clearly he had a fetish for making women cry from how big he was. That rock hard body came with a huge package. 

“Are you fucking kidding me!!!!!” She felt a rush of pressure forming in her lower belly, so big it pushes Erik’s dick out, a fountain of liquid pouring. The more she clenched, the more it flowed. Damara couldn’t control it and it shocked her. No way, this nigga made her squirt and for the first time ever. She’d always tried to make that happen for herself but it never worked so she would give up. 

That seemed to fuel Erik even more, he brought one of her legs up into a split, entering her body again. This time, he flexed his abs, bringing his dick into even more of a curve, really hitting her spot. Erik knew what he was doing, he wanted to see the reaction again.

“Come on, take this big dick,” he held her leg up even if it shook.

“Ah, fuck yes, shit it’s happening again!!” Before she could relax, here she was, squirting again but Erik stayed in. He smiled, slamming her so hard with his dick that she could feel it in her stomach. At this point, Damara might as well lose count of how many orgasms she’ll have. 

———

It was true.

Damara has missed two days of the gym for a reason. 

She couldn’t get out of the damn bed the morning after her and Erik had sex. Her pussy was sore and sensitive, inner thighs shaking when she stood from the bed. Damara didn’t bother exchanging numbers with him, unsure if she would even be able to take him up on a second chance. Deciding to be a big girl, Damara went to the gym for a dance session. 

She stood in the mirrored dance studio wearing a leotard colored bronze, a pair of sweats on and her hair in a messy bun with her vans. She skimmed through her playlist on iTunes, adjusting her AirPods to her liking.

Damara had to squat ballerina style to stretch her thigh muscles, bringing her leg up to extend the muscles of her inner thigh. Rolling her neck, she turns from the mirror, deciding to dance to a Nicki song. Once she got in the groove with the tempo, she started her routine. Her body moved like magic. The mirror wasn’t her own audience anymore, Erik was standing at the door watching her closely. He didn’t make a move, his eyes following her skillful moves along with her dangerous body, I mean, Damara was thick. Even through her loose fitted sweats he could tell. Now that Erik got a good look at her, he recognized her from Instagram.

DeetheeDancer.

She was pretty popular on social media for her dancing. Erik watched a few of her videos from time to time, loving the way she moved. She had this way of letting you know she was sexy from the look she gave in the camera when it followed her body. It was as if she was daring you to touch her, let her throw it back on you and see if you can catch it.

——-

Damara finished off to her first song, bending over with her hands on her knees to catch her breath. She paused her music, picking up her water to take a long sip. After recapping it, Damara’s eyes sweep the area, landing on the door and seeing a familiar face waving at her. 

It was him, the big dick nigga that had her on a two day hiatus. He looked to be arriving at the gym because he didn’t look worn out just fresh with a bomber jacket over top of his workout gear, beats over his ears and shades on. 

“Mind if I come in?” He mouthed.

Damara caught her breath before smiling, motioning for him to enter. He finally stepped through, dropping the duffel bag that was on his shoulder.

“Why ain’t you tell me you were a dancer? You ain’t so average.” 

“It’s kind of hard to do that when you were balls deep in me.” She mouthed tiredly.

“You talk hella bold but when I’m in there I have you running though.” He removed his shades, blessing her with his brown eyes.

“Mind if I watch? I got all day.” Erik removed his jacket.

“Fine with me,” Damara was okay with it, she had eyes on her with dancing almost all the time.

“She plugged her phone into the wall Bluetooth, settling on dancing to some pussy popping music from her freaky playlist. Yes, this was absolutely purposeful.

Right off the back, Megan Thee Stallion Freak Nasty began playing. She started off with a routine she already had to this song. She poses, hands rubbing down her frame before squatting down with a grip on her knees while swaying her hips. She did a turn, one hand in her hair with the other on her ass. Once the beat dropped, she got into the groove with a sexy hip hop routine that involved a lot of footwork and ass shaking. Her ass shook alright, like a goddamn tidal wave straight from the sea. She bounced in a circle, spreading her legs wide before landing into a perfect split that deserved tens across the board like she was a gymnast. 

Erik was impressed, and so was the huge dick that jumped happily in his compression briefs. She was clearly giving it her all, impressing him. He could fuck her ass royally with his dick, congratulate her for the little talent show. She was on the floor again, doing a perfect side split, her eyes moving from the mirror and zeroing in on his erection. She must have known that he was turned on because her eyes didn’t move from his crotch the entire time she grind, bent her body over, and twerked her ass. 

“You think that pussy can handle this dick today?”

She stops moving, hyperventilating before pausing her music.

“Nah, keep that playlist rolling, I want you to dance on this dick.”

She looked at him. He looked at her. She whispered, “okay, I admit it. You’ve got too much dick for me.” 

“Girl,” He wasn’t trying to hear that.

“I’m serious, I need to be able to move not walk like a cripple.” 

“It’s a gift,” he smiles wide.

Damara walks over to the mirrored wall, holding onto the bar before stretching her leg all the way up to her head. 

“See, you preparing yourself already.”

Erik began to approach her, Damara bent over with her head between her legs, looking from behind. She could see Erik making his way to her, the feeling in her stomach making her nervous. Damara lifts back up, grabbing a towel to wipe her neck off. Here he was now, fully enveloped in her personal space with his hands on either side of the bar, chin resting on her shoulder.

“I mean, you really got that shit up there, huh?” He was referring to her leg.

She chuckles, “Chill out, monster.”

“Monster? Hm,” Erik turns Damara around, his eyes scanning her heaving chest, “Well, it is October.” 

She smiles, licking her lips before looking at his, “You plan on scaring me again?”

Erik takes his thumb to stroke her chin, “I thought you were afraid of big, bad things?”

Damara swallows spit, eyes fluttering. She grabbed the bar on either side to brace herself.

“You ain’t know? This is my favorite time of the year.”

Damara places her hands on the back of Erik’s head, pulling him down to meet her lips. They kissed, Erik’s hand on her hips now, pulling her off and against him. The next song that played was dvsn- With me.

“C’ mon,” Erik kisses her again, their full lips in French kiss mode, “dance on me.”

Damara takes her time to work her hips into the slow beat, Erik easily matching her movements. She was impressed, turning now, dipping forward with her ass against his crotch, twirling her hips in a hypnotizing circle. Erik places one arm across her chest, his face buried in her hair, Damara turning to face him slightly while she moved her hips tantalizingly slow against him. 

“Mm,” Erik looked her frame up and down.

Damara turns, on her knees, arching back before rolling her body forward, grabbing Erik’s legs as she began to rise while her hips moved from side to side. She went to her tip toes then, one leg cleanly rising to rest on his shoulder before she arched her back, jumping up for Erik to catch her. He does, twirling her around before slowing down as the song slowed, their eyes meeting. 

“Wow,” she spoke breathlessly.

Before she could stop herself, Damara places her lips against his, Erik bringing her to the floor. Between frantic kisses, Erik undressed her, her naked sweaty body warm against his. She moans, arms around his neck. Erik takes his fingers, slipping inside to get a feel and taste.

“You taste just right,” He sucks slowly on his fingers before taking those same fingers to rub her nipples. 

“Fuck,” Damara pushes Erik down to the floor, her hands moving quickly to undress him. She needed him no matter how big he was. The sight of him again almost knocked her out. Damara grabs his dick, licking her lips before sinking her mouth over him. Erik instantly palmed the back of her head, biting his lip and saying how much of a good girl she was.

Damara sucked like her life was at stake, spit covering her hands and chest. She couldn’t fit him all in her mouth but she did her absolute best. Erik pulls her mouth off, watching the string of spit connect with her lower lip.

“Climb up, Baby girl.” Erik motions for Damara to come to him, Her legs straddling him on either side before her arms grabbed his shoulders tightly. She tried to prepare herself but the moment Erik slipped inside again she squeezed his biceps with her nails. Erik hisses, taking his hands to grab at her waist to keep her still. He started fucking up into her at an even pace, the pressure within her too much. She could feel the shit in her spine. Damara looked back at it, eyes closing in sweet pleasure before looking down at Erik’s smiling face.

“God, please keep fucking me.”

Erik grabs her ass, anchoring his hips before picking up the pace. The scream from her was so loud it bounced off the walls. 

“These walls ain’t sound proof, Baby girl.” 

She couldn’t move or control her cries. Erik was deep within her guts. Damara begged for Erik to keep going over and over, a series of please and I need more escaping her mouth.

“You gonna squirt on me like that again?” He bit his lip, raising his brows in a rude manner to initiate a response from her, “I said is that what you’re gonna do?!” 

“Yes!!!!!”

Damara snapped, squirting like he asked. Erik slaps both her ass cheeks for that.

“Good girl, I know you got more for me.”

“Yes, Erik.” 

She froze, mouth suspended open before cumming again. Within seconds?

“FUCKkkkkk.” 

“Mhm,” he fucked up into her at the same killer pace, “mhm...mhm.”

“STOP!” She cries out, the urge to cum right there.

“Stop it, I’m gonna cum again!”

“Girl, shut up and cum.” 

Erik was close himself.

“Shut that crying up and cum on this dick.”

She went silent, body trembling before cumming for a third time.

“Oh my God,” she cries.

“You gonna let me cum in that mouth, Baby girl?”

Erik bounced Damara a few more times before slipping her off, standing to his feet quickly while she stayed on her knees. Damara opened wide, waiting for his treat. He jerked his big dick, grunts deep and eyes low and dangerous. After three pumps the cream spilled, Damara’s tongue ready. He tasted so damn good. 

“All of it, I’m not playing with you.”

She grabs his dick, licking and sucking all of it off.

“Good girl,” he puckered his lips down at her, mouthing a kiss. She almost fainted.

“You gonna have them thirsty bitches mad”

Damara didn’t care.

[starfishthestarfish]

LIVE (pjm)

PAIRING:  Idol! Park Jimin x Idol! Reader 

WARNINGS: Smut (M). Pwp, oral (f recieving), fingering, teasing, swearing, sub!Jimin, dom!Reader, fisting, bring the holy water, cum eating, kissing, edging, name calling, begging if you squint, bring more holy water, biting, marking/hickeys, mentions of bondage, punishment, how did i come up with this.

WORD COUNT: 1301

SUMMARY: ignoring your boyfriend’s pleads for attention, you broadcasted a V LIVE. Bad idea, as Jimin gets your attention in another way.

V LIVE IS OWNED BY NAVER CORP.

"Lemme wait for others to connect...” You said, staring at your laptop screen as the numbers raised up in the V app. You were part of a rookie group which debuted under BigHit that had fastly raised up in popularity. You met Jimin even before being a rookie. He had convinced you to audition. A few months before debuting, you both formalized your relationship after you confessed to him. He was hard to get, as he always friendzoned you at the beginning. And about a month later, he asked you to enter a dom/sub relationship. You were scared at the beggining to hurt him, but with time you both became comfortable with it. However, you had to treat him softly, being the small ball of adorableness he is. At least during most of the time.

The numbers had finally raisened up, so you talked once again.

“Hello.” You swiftly lifted your glare through your lashes, to look at Jimin standing beside your desk, in a place where the camera wouldn’t see him. He was pouting, and articulated a word. Noona. You were younger than him, but by the way you cared and took so many cautions with him, he nicknamed you that way. Not that he bother for you to call him oppa at some times. “I turned this on... cause...” You grinned and stared back at the screen. “I didn’t have nothing to do.” Wrong. You were punishing your boyfriend by ignoring him. In your bondage last session, he had cummed without your permission. Your punishment for him was not touching you. For him, it was one of his worst punishments; deep inside you, it was also a torture to use that punishment. You two couldn’t stand more than a day without sex, and the week was almost ending. You both were desperate, but he was obviously much more than you by how much would he beg. So you had planned to remove it this night, until he arrived to your private apartment and mashed his lips against yours in a hungry, full opened mouth kiss, holding your wrists to try and gain control. He had stopped at your orders, and since then be pleading for you to remove the punishment. You inmediatly declined, and ignored him by starting this broadcast. “How are you guys doing?”

However, he had another plans. He got on his knees and crawled below your desk. You raised an eyebrow at his actions, but inmediatly ignored it and looked back at your screen, reading the comments.

:y/n, you’re so pretty!

:y/n

:y/n

:y/n

:y/n how are you doing?

:y/n come to Mexico!

:Saranghae!

:y/n, how is the rest?

"The others are resting, we had a tough-”, You blushed when you felt Jimin hiking up your skirt from beneath and spreading your legs. He couldn’t be serious, now?! You were in the middle of a broadcast! “-day!” He started drawing circles with his finger in your inner thighs, taking his time to move to your core. Just a few inches away from your heat, he started to suck ocassionally on your skin, leaving small, red marks on where his mouth landed. You closed your lips tightly when you felt Jimin’s wet tongue lick you over your white panties. 

:Are you ok?

:Remember to rest!

:y/n?

:she is surprised of my beauty

:She can’t see you

:give us spoilers on the comeback!

:if you see this show my your hand

“S-sorry, I can’t give any spoilers.” You stuttered, trying to mantain your composture. You tried closing your legs, but his grip on you was so strong you didn’t even budge. With a finger, he pushed your already wet panties aside to have full access to your heat. He let go of one of your thighs to open your folds, licking a stripe just between them. You blushed harder, biting your lip to remain silent, just pretending to stare at the comments. You weren’t reading them anymore. You just concentrated on how his tongue moved in and out of your entrance sloppily, ocassionaly slurping your juices, and prayed for no obscene sounds to be heard in the broadcast. You looked down for a few seconds at his eyes. He stared at you, his eyes darker than normal in a clear sign of lust. Your breathe became heavy, and you looked back at the screen. You slighlty coughed and covered your mouth to avoud gasping when he started circling your clit, adding more pressure each second. You felt the familiar feeling of your orgasm, a heavy knot in your stomache, and the need to release. Until he removed his tongue.

“Fu- uh?”, You restrained your curse. Your stare was blank, your insides clenched in need of feeling his touch again. What had happened? Did he really denied you an orgasm? He was always under orders, he couldn’t deny you. After a few seconds, you felt three fingers slip at once inside you. You arched your back, trying to make it look as if you regained posture. You didn’t open your mouth, terrified a moan would come out. You checked out how much time had you endured live. 15 minutes. You couldn’t take it anymore, you had to turn it off.

“I gotta go guys, I’m re-ally t-tired- bye”, You silently cursed at the way the last words came out almost as moans, and turned it off just as he took his fingers out of you. You released your breath, and thought of pulling away from him.

“F-fuck, Jimin!”, You arched your neck, held on his hair and closed your eyes when he slowly pushed his whole fist inside you. You thought you were going to tear. You normally supported just four fingers inside you, not that this hurt you. Apparently, he knew your limits better than yourself. He pumped his hand in and out of you, and you pulled his hair, moaning. Just as you felt you were close to your release again, he pulled his fist out. You whined in frustration and looked at him, gasping for breathe.

“W-what the hell is wrong with you, Jimin?!”, You opened your eyes to look at him. Even over his piercing dark, lustful eyes and your pussy’s juices glistening on his swollen lips, he smiled like a playful kid.

“You didn’t give me your attention, so I gave you mine.”, He said before licking his lips. You felt your insides twist at the image, and you ached for him to make you cum. If he was waiting for you to beg, damn no, you weren’t going to. Instead, you ordered him.

“...Make me cum”, He stared at you.

“What’s the magic word?”, he laughed. This wasn’t funny for you. You needed a release.

“Now.”, You pushed his head back to your core. He inmediatly started to lick your clit multiple times, kitty-like licks. Just this did you need to explode on your orgasm, arching your back and moaning, your eyes closed. He kept licking you through your high, making sure to leave you clean from your own cum.

“I’ve been a good kitty, please remove the punishment...”, He begged you once your grip on his hair smoothened enough for him to talk again, licking his lips. You stared at him panting, and got up from your chair on your wobbly legs. He crawled out from below the desk, and kneeled.

“Get up”, You ordered him, and he did inmediatly. You approached to him and smashed your lips against his plump, red lips. He moaned slightly when you tugged painfully on his hair. You separated by a few inches, him looking at your lips. You both were lightly panting. “...I’ll remove this punishment, but then you’ll be in denial during next session as a punishment for denying me twice. Got it, kitty?”

.

.

Masterlist

[katsukikitten]

Weighted

A/N @zbops for you bb as per your request. I hope that this lives up to at least half of your expectations. Thank you so much for supporting me and for encouraging me. Enjoy it and may it help you just a bit more. I send my love XOXO Kitten 💋

It was not unlike you to occasionally stay up late into the night. Late enough to see the moon rise high in the inky black sky watching the constellations move by at a lazy pace.

But to lie awake long enough to greet the sun was abnormal.

At least it was supposed to be abnormal now. Before it was your normal to lose sleep as fat droplets slid from unblinking eyes. Thoughts consuming you with nothing and everything at once.

You thought yourself better.

Not cured, not immune, but well.

Fine and level headed for once.

Yet here you lie again unable to will your exhausted body to sleep as you replay failures from pasted years.

Like an old film one must study to improve but every time it is rewatched another haunting flaw jumps out.

And there is nothing you can do to right your wrong.

Frustrated tears well in your eyes now as you watch the clock for the second week in a row burn an obnoxious 3 am into your retina.

Furious as you thought you had put this problem in its place. That you had long ago learned how to make your demon small and to lock it away.

As with everything in life it adapted, slipping through the bars of its cage only to find itself looming over you once more. Delighting in your anguish as it exploits the coping mechanism you developed.

Turning it on its head to haunt you, to hurt you. To put you in your place as you thought you did it.

Although it knows this will be enough to pain you, it wants to do more.

Truly a petty being as it steals your voice, worming into your head just to whisper.

"Did you really think a few extra hours of training a day would make a difference? That you would suddenly be  sought after as a pro hero? You could barely get an apprenticeship and look at how you're failing at that!"*

This dredges up your failure from last week, your first offical mission as apprentice.

What was supposed to be a normal patrol quickly unraveled into a full on street brawl.

You aided your hero holding down the perpetrators bodies with your quirk, straining to keep them in place.

There were tenty or so overpowered drug enhanced strength quirks fighting the pull you placed on them. 

Your arm pangs now, reminding you of how it threatened to snap beneath the own weight of your quirk.

"Useless." Its laugh echoes in your ear.

Your temper flares, fist smashing the small black box that mocks you with the time before you rise. Dressing into your training clothes, sliding on your weighted vest as your bruises groan against it. You push your already consistent 1.5 times Earth's gravity pull to a consistent 2.5 for now.

Hands grab for your phone and headphones before fumbling to find your key in your amassed returning symptoms. Throwing piles of clothes, books, and homework onto other piles of  long neglected items.

Irritation mixed with a twinge of panic sets in as you look for your FOB that accesses not only the gym you are so desperate to use but also it accesses your dorm building as your dorm room key rests on a chain around your neck. Your memory works overtime as you wonder where it could have been placed.

Was it it Kirishima's room?

Or Bakugou's?

Who's room did the three of you spend the night in last?

You cannot remember, time all runs together much like a watercolor painting caught in the rain.

Colors bleed and the world dips into sun bleached greys as you think of the two of them.

Had you even texted either of them good night?

When was the last time you told them you loved them?

You pick up your phone, bloomed bruised hand winking back at you before the phone obliterates into metal and glass confetti at your feet.

"Fuck." You hiss having forgotten that you had the gravitational pull around your hands as well. Damning yourself for being so careless although you are still careless enough to walk over the shrapnel with bare feet.

It is then you find your key FOB lying in the middle of the chaotic room which you snatch greedily before locking your post nuclear bomb room away.

And with that the thoughts of ash blonde and ruby red hair.

You slink on guilty feet in the shadows of the hall, the moon your only witness as you make your way outside.

The air is cool agaisnt your heated skin, hinting that fall is almost over. That winter will be sure to rear its ugly head and harshly at that.

As if to prove a point an icy wind cuts through your skin deep into your bones, you sigh out upping the force on your body.

The gym is a short walk from the dorm, the night caressing you with soft fingers as it guides you to the thick metal door.

A worried gulp echoes back at you as your hand hovers just before the panel. FOB just out of range to be scanned.

Last time a student was on rest probation their key could only work if Sensei scanned theirs as well.

With gritted teeth you bring the key to kiss smooth plastic. For a moment you're sure it will flash red but when it beeps with a flash of glorious green you cannot help the small smile that spreads across your lips.

They must have forgotten to add those restrictions to yours, that or they didn't think you would disobey your physical therapist and other Sensei.

It doesn't take long before you're sweating.

And the more you swing the harder you make the gravitational pull on your body. The floor groans from the pressure as you push the pull towards you beyond limits for a recovering body, 3.5 times Earth's normal pull.  Sweat slides down a bruised nape and drips into now stinging eyes.

You do little to alleviate the pain or sweat that is trying so hard to blind you.

Another swing of your weighted fists has your bones creaking, muscles burning while you have half a mind to add more sand to your wrist and ankle bands.

Hell maybe even more to your vest although it presses against your sternum harshly with each step, threatening to snap a rib. You begin to lose the concentration on the areas you want to afflict as the incresed gravitational begins to spread out. The floor groans harder depsite being designed to withstand many powerful quirks.

A hairline fraction fissures through the smooth wood, attempting to snake up the cinderblock wall.

"None of this is going to change anything. You will still be..."

A heated punch hits the dummy hard, causing it to skid but you advance without letting up, snarling.

"Don't fucking say it."

Another hit to the dummy and you've got it cornered agaisnt the wall but still the voice goes on, a smile dancing along its tone as it purrs.

*"Worthless"*

You begin to jab agaisnt the dummy with enough momentum and force that the padding begins to fall away from its "face" revealing unforgiving metal beneath.

Metal that you pound into anyway.

Metal that warps for a moment from being too close to your pull, still your barrage of fists and feet cease to let up.

You follow up a punch with a round house kick increasing the force on your body subconsciously. As you rotate your vest slams heavily into your ribs and an audible crack echoes around the room. 

"Fuck!" You huff slamming your foot against the cool surface, the dummy implodes as you land on your feet.

In that moment the room pops from the pressure as you let up the force. The floor creaks, almost breathing as it returns to normal although now heavily warped. Suddenly you feel as light as a feather. As if at any moment you could float up to the ceiling like a lazy balloon only to get tangled in the harsh overhead lights.

Crimson splatters the floor from your knuckles and spit, hand feathering over your ribs. Sliding beneath dampened fabric, smoothing over already bruised skin. You're sure it will only worsen now that you count, one, two.

Three fucking cracked ribs. Your breaths come out in heavy puffs all echoing back to you as you right your self, eyes seeking out another dummy, ignoring the pain begging you to stop.

But feeling pain was better than feeling that weighted void in your chest.

As if you were a super nova that imploded, pulling everything around you into the darkened abyss.

Turning it all into hollowed nothingness.

The first sparring dummy you spy seems to look at you funny, you rear your fist but before it can make contact a growl cuts out.

"You've done enough little one."

His voice dips low, borderline pissed. It is a warning and one you must obey as the air permeates with salted caramel.

But you're in no mood to deal with Katsuki, no mood to be submissive, obedient or anything relative to feeling at all.

Regardless if it's clearly for your own good. 

All you wanted, needed, was for everything to fade.

And maybe to black.

But it doesn't instead he advances hand finding your wrist with a sharp grip, that softens only to assess. Turning your wrist this way and that with heated calculating eyes, before he rips off your weighted vest with a growl. Lifting your shirt to reveal blush black painted beneath your smooth skin.  His finger prods your ribs and when he counts them in his head he snarls. You watch his muscles twitch as he holds himself. Muscles that had grown twice their size since first year and yet you were left unchanging.

"Training is futile, you'll always be puny."

You rip your wrist free, teeth bared at an already snarling Bakugou.

"Not. Now." You misread his actions beneath the initial rage. He is concerned but all you see is punishment in his eyes 

Disappointment.

You look over Katsuki's sculpted shoulder to see Kirishima waiting at the door with glistening ruby eyes that seem to be torn.

Who does he support? How can he defuse this? 

"You're fucking hurt." The blonde bites out venom.

"I'm fucking fine. Drop it!" You shove past him slamming your shoulder into his. He wants so badly to reach for you. To yank you back to him so you can look him in his angry scarlet eyes.

"Oh so the blood on the floor means you're fine? Your cracked ribs and bruised to fuck all body means you're fine?!" His temper shows with deadly pops that dance along his skin.

You weight him and Kirishima down gently as you leave, hoping it slows them down long enough for you to return to the safety of your dorm room.

Katuski snarls as he walks with leaded feet, as if walking through mud under the influence of a muscle relaxer.  But he and Kirishima have trained with you plenty of times, not to mention they are exposed to your increased pull.

"Maybe we should give them sometime? They are upset, babe." Kirishima offers only to be met with a glowering glare. 

"I've tried listening to you, I've tried it your way and look what has happened." A snarl so low that Kirishima feels his gut twist.

"But..."

"But what?" He turns on his lover quickly, "We gave them two weeks of no contact. This is clearly a symptom we need to bisect before they kill themselves over some stupid fucking training."

Kirishima can do nothing but follow as Bakugou stalks you up the steps that you stomp.

You're seething, steam rising from your skin with each heavy breath as your vision blurs between rational thought and white hot rage.

Rage that is always so easy to give into. Especially when your only other option is immobilzing sadness. Before you know it Bakugou is barking at you from the jamb of the door while your ruby haired boyfriend presses gently against his back.

Trying to remind him that his own irate reaction could further the situation, Bakugou feels it but it is lost as you strip to change. You rip the velcro from your wrists, dropping the fifty pounds weights with a harsh thud. The floor rattles the items on your desk and even the window before you move onto the hundred pound weights on your ankles.

Grumbling as you think of your two hundred and fifty pound vest abandoned in the gym. How hard had Bakugou torn it from your strong yet sleek frame?

Would you have to take it to the support class?

You strip your shirt and then your pants as two sets of red eyes gauge different reactions. 

Rubies widen, shining with the threat of tears. While blood scarlet narrow with burning, hot, wrath.

Katsuki knew you were bruised, he knew you had those broken ribs and he knew you were set out of rehabilitation probation due to injuries but he did not know the extent of them.

And how the fuck could he? What with you locking yourself away in your room, refusing to text them, refusing to eat the meals cooked and left for you.

Refusing help as you promised you would not do.

Katsuki's warning signs of blowing do not go unnoticed, a strong hand wraps around his hip. Squeezing, hoping to convey the softness the ash blonde so desperately needs.

It works, at least as far as his quirk goes. Bakugou Katsuki  could erupt in more than one way.

"What. The. FUCK?!" He goes to take a step in but Kirishima keeps his grip tight. But that does not stop the tongue lashing you get. Bakugou takes a large slow breath, as you once taught him and snorts it out like a dragon.

"You promised you would stop doing this..." His voice, once soothing now grating your last nerve, "You fucking promised, damn it."

Kirishima gives another small squeeze before piping up.

"We are just worried about you, love. Very worried." His voice cracks at the end, causing Katsuki to look over his shoulder.

The tears well faster over dancing garnets.

From the weight of the guilt something in you finally snaps. The room blurs as you subconsciously pull the force to you, items slowly crushing beneath the weight as you lunge for the first thing you can wrap burning hands on.

Your desk chair to which your hurl while screaming

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

Your hot headed boyfriend catches the chair with ease, exploding it on impact.

With an angry enough blast that the paint on the ceiling and walls peel.

Oh if Bakugou wasn't pissed at you before he was now.

And not angry over the fact that you've thrown something at him.

But over the simple fact that you were hurting in deadly silence. So badly suffering that you cannot even rationally express yourself anymore.

And more over he is pissed he has let it get this far.

The glass of your window shatters behind you, both from your exertion and his explosion pulling you into the here and now.

The room spirals as quickly as you do, suddenly forgetting how to breath. Gasping as a fish does out of water before you fall to your knees. The two men rush to you, fearing you'll lose yourself in your panic. Two sets of strong arms wrap around you both crushing you between them.

"You're okay." Kirishima soothes, "You're okay. Just breathe."

Nails bite into toned flesh though you are unsure which unfortunate mail is receiving the half blood moons as tears prick your eyes. Falling towards the Earth as much as you wish they wouldn't. Your stomach lurches, your side screams but it does not stop the racks of sobs that tremor through your body.

You come undone in the worst way before the very two men you wanted, needed to be strong in front of. There was already a detrimental gap between your development and theirs.  In every fucking aspect you could think of.

Muscle mass.

Durability.

Capability.

The list could go on.

After some time Bakugou coos to you.

"Now tell me what's wrong."

Kirishima places his head between your shoulder blades, reaching out for Bakugou's hand.

"I...I'm behind. I... I cannot even train right." Tears slip over ruddy cheeks that Katuski gently wipes away.

"Behind how?" Kirishima prompts, letting lazy circles trace your stomach.

"On my first mission I get put on recovery suspension, I worked so so so *hard* to even get that hero to agree to take me on and yet I fucked it all up!" Another frustrated sob that has you hiccuping for a moment. You watch Bakugou's face turn to stone as he tries to calm himself.

"I almost died on one of my first big missions. I sat out for a long time, this was a little bit before you transferred." Kirishima admits, "Resting and PT made me stronger."

"Hell I was behind at one point too. I couldn't even fucking pass the provisional!" Katsuki growls at the thought.

"Neither could Todoroki-kun." Kirishima adds.

"But you three...you three are strong. I'm so....weak." With that Bakugou snaps.

"You think I can run with a two hundred fifty pound weight on my chest and keep pace with Iida's jog? Do you think Kirishima could hold down twenty fucking tweaked out villians at once?" His voice is gruff but his hands are soft as he lifts your chin, purposefully making you hold his gaze as he speaks, "Answer me, little one."

"N...no." You sob, Kirishima's strong arm squeezes tigher around your middle, careful to avoid your ribs, as he peppers kisses over your blackened shoulders.

"Just because your body does not reflect mine or Eijiro's does not mean you are weak. You are strong Y/N. Real fucking strong." He kisses you softly, capturing your lips tenderly as Kirishima kisses along your throat.

"Share this weight with us." Bakugou breathes out after pulling away.

"Its not weak to cry or ask for help baby." Kirishima whispers in your ear, your eyes look over your sturdy shoulder before they fall to their hands intertwined. You notice Bakugou's knuckles turning white. Had you really made them worry this much?

"Isn't that right Suki?" Eji asks, resting his chin in your shoulder. Katsuki looks at him for a long time, this man and you have helped him more than he would ever like to admit. But if this is what brought that natural magnetism about you that attracted him in the first place he'd say it 

Fuck, if it brought that blinding smile of yours back to your kissable lips he'd scream if from the fucking roof.

"Yes." He lets out a shaky sigh, "Now please, please let us help you little one."

Searching his eyes you wonder if there will ever be a time when you will stop feeling this way.

When you will stop feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders over little to nothing at all.

When you will stop feeling that black hole that crawled into your chest weighing you down and making you weightless all at once.

When you will stop the haunting feeling of sadness that lingers on the fringes of your every thought, tainting every memory and moment with its shimmering darkness.

You wonder if this cancer, if this demon that has since crawled into your chest and devoured your heart whole will ever die.

Scarlet eyes soften as they rove over your lovely features, strong arms support you from behind and you know what the answer is.

The answer is no.

It will never die, never cease to exist, never leave you alone. It will stay with you until you lie motionless forever and even then it will crawl into your casket cradling your cooling skin.

But you will not stop fighting.

Cannot stop fighting because of the small sliver of a feeling you have now.

The love that resiliently blooms despite the pressure, despite the darkness, despite it being trampled over and fucking over.

You know that these two men are not your worth nor or they your reason for being and even if, Kamisama forbid, you three broke up, you would fight on.

Tooth and nail keeping this demon under the ball of your steel toed boot.

Because in the end, after it is all said in done you will do anything to feel this.

This hope and love that radiates from within. You sigh out a shaky sigh, releasing the tension of your shoulders and the constant pressure you've kept on yourself since that mission, your shoulders sag from relief.

"Thank you, thank you for baring this with me." You squeeze their arms respectively as you speak to them both at once, "I love you."

They speak in unison their two tones melding together and soothing over your skin like an ointment.

"I love you too." 

[softjeon]

Rewind | Pt. 3

• Pairing: Yoongi x Robot!Jungkook • Genre: Fluff, Angst | Rating: Mature | Robot!AU • Words: 6,7k | AO3 • Disclaimer: nsfw-content

written with @cassiavioletblue​

↳  “Tadah!” They shouted in unison, with Tae raising his hands to wave some little birthday flags while Namjoon and Hoseok clapped their hands and began to sing again, “Happy Birthday to you…”  This was a joke. This had to be a joke and they made that man deliver an empty box. There was no way they had gotten him a Bot.

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Yoongi woke up with the sun in his eyes, blades of lights knifed through the blinds and mocked him. He didn't stir, just opened his eyes as he tried to think of any reason not to get up and stay a little longer inside this coziness, when a soft giggle reached his ears. It was nothing more than a faded laugh, sounding like it came from the living room and he turned his head, listening closely. He could decipher the noise of the tv being on and Yoongi furrowed his brows, stiff like a board as if someone had dared to trespass and enter his home. His heart was reacting to his wariness, beating a little faster, before his mind caught up. 

“Jungkook?” Yoongi’s voice was a sleepy mumble, nothing more when he got up to see what his robot was up to.

Jungkook sat on the ground, blanket draped over his knees as he looked up at the big tv screen. There was a big smile on his face, while being so immersed that he almost didn’t hear Yoongi coming closer.

Yoongi had tried to sneak past the robot but in the end he got caught. When the other realized that Yoongi was awake and on his way to the kitchen he was trying to get up and Yoongi gently placed a hand on his shoulder to keep him there. “Morning, Jungkook. Did you sleep okay? You don’t need to get up, I’m not that hungry yet. I could make us hot cocoa? It’s a perfect way to start a lazy morning.”

Jungkook blinked up at him, confused why he sounded so nice, so early in the morning. “You want to make me something?” The robot sounded doubting, quickly turning off the tv to concentrate solely on Yoongi. “But I can’t drink it.” Jungkook pursed his lips into a pout, ignoring the question about how he had slept on purpose. He had been resting for a couple of hours, not long until his shoulders began to ache and he had climbed out of the box again. Surely, he had noticed the cushion, but Jungkook didn’t believe Yoongi had been the one giving it to him. Maybe he had simply forgotten that he took it with him. 

Yoongi froze. “Wait, what? You can’t drink? So... you don’t eat or drink at all? But what about romantic dinners or going out for pizza and all that? Isn’t that a part of a relationship as well?” Surely they couldn’t make sure that their robots were able to do a hundred sex positions and then forget something as simple as food.

Jungkook shrugged his shoulders, not really sure why he couldn’t eat. “Wouldn’t it be waste? I don’t need it to survive, so I think this way it’s better.” He got up to be at the same height as Yoongi. “Do you want to go out for a romantic dinner sometime?” His eyes began to shine as he thought of a night out with Yoongi. He really wanted to hold his hand again. “We can do other romantic things then,” He bit his lip, “Like I can feed you and we can hold hands over the table like they do in the movies.”

“But, wait, I know Tae can eat. And he can drink. Like a lot. He even gets intoxicated when we go out for a drink at the bar. So is this like an extra option they forgot when they bought you?” It bothered him a little more than it probably should but he loved watching the ones he cared for enjoying a good meal. He always bought his friends lunch or dinner whenever they had achieved something and they were going out to celebrate so imagining Jungkook always sitting in front of him without taking a bite while watching him eat was making him uncomfortable already.

“What kind of production line is he?” Jungkook asked warily, not sure why this was something Yoongi was confused and sounding rather bothered by it. “I…I am not sure. Didn’t you read the manual?” Jungkook sounded more than confused himself, feeling unsure about what he was programmed for. “I can eat for you, if you want. I can try, I don’t care.” He hastily said, roaming around in his system to find anything that he was allowed to eat until he found something. “I can swallow cum though.”

“I’m not sure, I think it was something with ‘Dream’ in it. But I can ask Hoseok next time one of us calls. I did read your manual, but.. not fully. It was late and I went to bed.” He didn’t have to tell Jungkook that a whole chapter on sex positions had made him want to take a break from reading. “No, you don’t have to eat if you don’t like it or worse, what if it damages your system and...” He stumbles over his own words at the others abrupt confession and when he spoke again he sounded angry, not at Jungkook but at the company for designing the boy like that. “I know and that’s what pisses me off because what the hell would I need that for and I also don’t need a page-long description of your dick-sucking-qualities, thank you very much. What I would have liked was enjoying a hot cup of cocoa with you, not even because I’m especially fond of that sweet stuff but I knew Jimin likes it and you are a little like him sometimes and so I thought you might enjoy it. I was just.. trying to be nice and try to be normal with you as if we were roommates or something and now we’re talking about robot stuff again!”

Jungkook startled from the sudden aggressive tone in Yoongi’s voice. Suddenly his heart ached, and he wanted to eat and drink so badly just to please Yoongi, to make him happy again. Jungkook averted his gaze, feeling like it was his fault. He was the robot, not Yoongi’s roommate or boyfriend. In a quick-hearted decision, Jungkook turned on his heel and stormed into Yoongi’s bedroom, scanning the room quickly to find the manual and go through it. Again. And again. He didn’t want his human to send him back to get fixed or to get exchanged. Jungkook’s heart was racing, beating fast like a drum as he turned another page, quickly reading over it and then again. His cheeks were blushing at the descriptive scenes of his abilities and he tried to read a little faster. He may have known about his special characterizations for Yoongi, but the hell did he know about what exactly he was able to do. Jungkook was naïve, a young man that was just a little too confused about what he was even made for, reacting mostly on his programmed instincts. But none of them had gotten him any closer to his human. 

Yoongi went after him, finding the robot crouched on the floor, skimming through the pages as if he wasn’t reading but the way his eyes moved told Yoongi that he was reading indeed, just too quickly for a human. “Jungkook, what are you doing?” He squatted down besides the younger, “I won’t let you eat anything if it puts you at risk; I’ll call the company after breakfast and then we’ll see what their answer will be. Maybe I can bring you back in and they can fix it or add that feature or something like that?”

“No! No, please,” Jungkook shook his head, eyes flickering up and down until they came to a halt. He gasped and then pointed at the paragraph, pushing it into Yoongi’s hands hastily and creasing the pages with it. “Here! It says I am on a default mode to not be able to swallow anything as I am from the ‘HotBot Line’” Jungkook cringed at the name, trying to speak quick as if Yoongi would decide if he wouldn’t try and change his mind fast enough. “It says you can change the status as I am designed both ways. Please. There’s no need for the service. Don’t send me back.” His eyes were glistening as he gazed at Yoongi, trying to find comfort in his dark eyes. “They will reset me and I don’t want to forget about you.”

“They can reset you? Like wipe your memories?” Yoongi was intrigued. If he had the possibility to use such a feature on himself he would use it like once a week. “And you don’t want them to do that even though you have been crying at least twice because of me? Don’t you want a nice start? Maybe we could do this as a positive change for the both of us; I could treat you better from the beginning und you wouldn’t have to feel rejected.” He suggested carefully.

Jungkook’s bottom lip began to tremble. Yoongi was right in a way and yet, he didn’t want to change a thing about it. He was too scared to be changed into something that didn’t feel right. So, he shook his head again. “You can just act different now, can’t you? I know you’ve been drunk and overwhelmed.” Jungkook was still holding the manual against Yoongi’s chest, who had his eyes on him. “Can’t we try this?” He nodded towards the paper, “Maybe I’ll be more perfect for you then? I want to share food with you and drink hot cocoa.”

Yoongi bit his bottom lip. It had felt weird with Jungkook always trying to be perfect for him. Now that he disagreed with him he should feel irritated but...it actually made Jungkook more human in his eyes, so he nodded. “It’s your decision. If you don’t want to get wiped then we can try this. Just give me a few minutes okay? I want to red that part at least twice or check the internet, just to  be sure. I don’t want to accidentally fuck you up.”

Jungkook agreed quietly. “I’ll make you some coffee in the meantime.” His heart felt a little lighter at the prospect of Yoongi not wanting to send him back (how many more times did Jungkook have to try and keep him from doing so?). In the kitchen, Jungkook took his time to prepare some light breakfast and brought it to his office, where Yoongi was already focused as he compared different manuals and comments with the one in his hand. Unfortunately, as Jungkook was from the newest line, there hadn’t been too many, yet, leaving Yoongi to figure it out alone much to his despair. The robot sat down on the armchair close by, hands pushed under his thighs as he sat there in silence, waiting for his boyfriend to tell him that he was ready to reprogram him. 

Yoongi sighed defeatedly. “You’re making me nervous if you’ll keep looking at me like that” He finally admitted, putting the manual aside. ”Are you sure you want me to do this? I could call Hoseok? He might have done something similar to Tae and know a bit more.” He would definitely have to apologize for how their last conversation had ended but if secured Jungkook’s safety it was worth it. He didn’t want a broken bot. Or maybe, just maybe he was scared by the thought of Jungkook changing just when he had started to get used to him.

“You’re my boyfriend, Yoongi.” Jungkook chuckled as if the other had asked the dumbest questions out of them all, “Only you can reprogram me. If Hoseok were to touch me I wouldn’t even react so much as to blink. I am imprinted on you and only you.” Jungkook got up, taking a deep breath to mentally prepare himself. “It’s just a little change.” He reached for Yoongi’s hand and held it lightly, “I trust you.”

“Ok then...” Yoongi took a nervous glimpse at the book, “...let me read this again  just to be absolutely certain and you can take a hairpin to get the hair away from your ear?” He didn’t need the manual to remember where Kook’s button was: inside the robot’s ear. You only saw it when you knew what to look for and even them it could just be a mole or something. He waited until Kook had brushed his locks away from his ear, holding them in place as he didn’t had a pin. Yoongi kept glancing nervously at the manual until the other got restless. “Okay then... last chance to get out?” Jungkook shook his head with determination in his eyes. “Okay.” He coughed awkwardly. “Let’s do this.”

“Try not to be so nervous, please. My system needs to understand your orders clearly it’s not like a touch screen.” Jungkook smiled reassuringly and stepped a little closer to make sure Yoongi could touch him without hesitation or needing to reach out for him. “Just think about the cocoa that we can share.” The robot’s eyes glistened in excitement, the hope reflecting in them as he could be more of a boyfriend for Yoongi. Someone that the other truly wanted.

“Yes. Okay. I can do that.” It wasn’t so obvious who he was trying to reassure right now but Yoongi added a smile, just to make sure his frowny face wasn’t the last thing that Jungkook saw if he messed this up. Then he put his hand against the side of Jungkook’s face. A little too far back for a caress of the cheek and started feeling for the button. He could feel when he had found it not only at his fingertips but also through the full body shudder that the robot gave. He pushed it without another warning to not make this harder for Jungkook and then quickly took a step back. Jungkook’s body reacted immediately: His muscles grew lax and his arms fell back to his sides while his eyes clouded over. It looked a little like the milky state of a curdled egg. Yoongi couldn’t help but stare. Then he asked carefully. “Jungkook? Can you still hear me?”

“System on standby. Please verify to proceed.” He stood with his mouth slightly opened, eyes staring into nothingness, while his voice sounded a little off. It wasn’t as soft as before, rather rough and technical. He repeated the words again when Yoongi didn’t react right away, not moving an inch.  

“Oh fuck, fucking... fuck!” Was Yoongi’s eloquent comment to the creepy state of his robot boyfriend. Apparently though it didn’t matter what exactly he said as long as it was his voice saying it because Jungkook immediately thanked him for verifying his presence and stated his full name. Then he turned silent again and Yoongi stared at him for another second before he kicked himself back into motion. The sooner he finished what he had started the sooner he would get his ‘normal’ Kook back. Hopefully he wouldn’t have nightmares about this version of his sweet, doe-eyed robot. Flipping the page he found the code that he was supposed to speak ‘loud and clear within hearing distance’ to his robot. Yoongi started but in his haste he stumbled over the long string of numbers and letters and broke off. His heart was beating painfully against his chest. Did his slip up mean that he had programmed something else into Jungkook? Would some random number delete his memory after all or rewire him in some other way?

“The code you have spoken was invalid. Please try again.” Jungkook’s mouth was moving, but his eyes were still glazed over, his hands pressed tightly against his side as he waited patiently for Yoongi to speak again. This time, Yoongi took a deep breath and collected himself, before he spoke. His voice sounded still a bit shaky, but Jungkook seemed to have registered what he had said. “You’ve successfully lowered the HotBot level.” The robot paused, “Would you like to change something else or return to the functional system?”

And there it was, an option that was a creepy as it was fascinating. It was more or less Jungkook’s whole being that was offered up for him to do with as he pleased. Yoongi swallowed harshly, voice almost giving out when he dared to ask, “What else is that there I could change?” He was only asking out of curiosity. Just that. Nothing more. He would never change anything about Kook. That wouldn’t be fair...

“The code was invalid. Please try again and speak more clearly.” Jungkook was still standing still as he waited for an answer.

Yoongi released the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. This was enough meddling with Jungkook’s life for once. “Is your digestive system activated now?” He asked, just to be sure. He didn’t like the thought of doing this again.

“Status of digestive System is active.” It was all Yoongi needed, before he released Jungkook from his state with the order to return to himself.

The robot let out a sigh and closed his eyes for a moment, until they finally snapped back open. He stared wide-eyed at Yoongi and the stars were back, shining and reflecting as if the whole galaxy had been placed within them. 

“Did it work?” The robot felt a little dazed, rubbing his head as he felt like he had been hit with a hammer. He frowned, trying to shake the feeling off and concentrate on what was more important now. “Will you make me hot cocoa now?” His cheeks blushed as he asked a little shyly, wondering if he’d really be able to taste the hot drink now and share this memory with Yoongi. He smiled at his boyfriend, who was still staring at him, confused about the quick change between his system voice and his own (that he liked way more). “Yoongi?” Jungkook cocked his head aside, wondering what was going on inside his boyfriends mind. 

“Yes, yeah, of course, hot cocoa coming right away.” It was strange to see Jungkook come back to his senses, his stiff posture fading away while the life came back to his eyes. Even before the other had started to talk it was like Yoongi could see the exact moment his soul had come back. He had to think about this, in peace, or talk it over with Namjoon maybe. Or... maybe he could ask Tae to come over. And see how the two bots would react to each other. Maybe Jungkook would like to get a friend.

...╘[◉-◉]╕...

The first taste of chocolate made Jungkook completely speechless. His first try of chocolate milk though almost felt better than imprinting on Yoongi when they’ve met. A warm feeling spread all through his body, making the robot shiver with it and the smile on his lips whenever he was allowed to drink some, quickly became something that Yoongi didn’t want to miss in his morning routine. 

It was easier than he thought to get used to the robot. And whenever he needed some space, Yoongi just simply send Jungkook off to do some work for him.

 Now that his digestive system was active and they could share meals, Jungkook was even more eager to please his boyfriend. He was cleaning, doing his laundry and the dishes and made him a meal two times a day. Every morning, before Yoongi was even awake, Jungkook had already prepared a coffee for him. Yoongi had to admit that his coffee was really good. Maybe not as good as from that one cat café he liked so much downtown (and that he would never tell anyone about, because he was keeping it his secret spot, a little too scared that one of his friends - most likely Jimin - would want to meet up there and coo at him all day). And yet - it was all there was. 

Jungkook was trying as hard as he could, giving Yoongi space and doing everything he ordered him to do but he still wasn’t giving him anymore attention than what was necessary. Yoongi was working most of the times and all though he was doing home-office a lot, Jungkook always felt alone whenever he had to visit a construction place and not taking him with him. He had tried to whine and promise to stay in his car, not moving an inch but Yoongi had still denied, leaving the robot to wonder if he was trying to hide him. On the other hand, Jungkook cherished the moments they were grocery shopping a lot, because then Yoongi was holding his hand to keep him close by (scared he could run off or tell people something that would make him feel embarrassed, even though he had no idea what it could be about really). One time, Jungkook had come up with an excuse, just to go to the store again with Yoongi because he wanted to hold his hand. 

Jungkook was sleeping on the couch now, after Yoongi had to show him how. The robot was confused, thinking that couches were only to sit and to cuddle on. But Yoongi wasn’t cuddling him anyways. He was getting starved on what his system was desiring so much: to be with Yoongi and so, he was failing miserably as a robot, as a boyfriend and bot to pleasure. 

...╘[◉-◉]╕...

Jungkook looked up from his meal, pushing the vegetables around on his plate. “Yoongi?” He asked, voice sounding unsure and his heart began to beat a little faster. “Do you want to change something else? About me, I mean.”

Yoongi was surprised by Jungkook’s question but he wanted to give him an honest answer so he thought it over for a second. To be honest he couldn’t think of anything really, that he wanted to change. Nothing drastic at least. They had found their rhythm, living together side by side and it worked out. Instead of being annoyed that someone else was living at his home he enjoyed the company. Even if it was just him working and Jungkook reading another book on sustainable house cleaning it was nice to know that someone was there. And when Yoongi had noticed that he had got a little more attached than originally planned he had just explained it like this: Children got really attached to their plushies to the point that they wanted to have them around at any time, even though they knew they weren’t real people. Now he wasn’t a child anymore but maybe something similar could happen with grown ups and so that was why he liked to have Jungkook around himself so much even though technically he wasn’t real. 

“I don’t have anything I’d like to change about you, really. Why? Do you feel that I do?” After a little pause he added. “The only thing I noticed is that you are happiest when we are together and you sometimes look a little lost when I’m working in the other room. Is there nothing that brings you the same happiness like when you’re with me? No hobby, no interest that intrigues you?”

"What is a hobby?“ Jungkook leaned in a little closer, happy that Yoongi didn’t want to change anything about him anymore – but why was he still avoiding his touch? The robot could easily search the internet quickly to know what Yoongi was talking about, but he wanted his boyfriend to explain it to him. “You intrigue me. Are you my hobby then?”

He chuckled at the robots interpretation, “No, Kookie, people aren’t hobbies, they have hobbies. It’s an activity that you do in your free time and that you like. Some people do sports as a hobby or handcrafts like sewing or knitting but there are all kinds of different hobbies really.”

Jungkook bit his lip when Yoongi used the little nickname he liked so much. “Okay, well then I like watching you do stuff. And I like animes, right? Is that a hobby?” He had pushed his plate aside, more interested in what Yoongi was telling him than his food anymore. 

Yoongi refrained from telling the other that watching someone wasn't a hobby but rather creepy and instead reassured him in his love for anime. “Yes, watching anime is a nice hobby. I just thought that maybe you wanted to do something new or meet someone else that you can have fun with. Like a friend. Do you think you would like that?” Hoseok and Tae had come back from a little vacation two days ago and he was still toying with the thought of inviting them over. None of his friends had really seen Jungkook so far, he had told them about him and sometimes it had been Jungkook answering his phone when he had his phone shut off and they called the apartment but apart from that he was the only person Jungkook had ever seen so far. 

Jungkook hummed in response, deep in his thoughts for a moment. “But I want to have fun with you and do things with you first?” His voice sounded a little unsure, as if he didn’t know if Yoongi was trying to get more free time or really do something for him. “You can invite your friends anytime but I don’t need anyone but you.”

Maybe Yoongi was overreacting a little because even though it might not be healthy for a human to be fixated on someone that much maybe it was perfectly fine for a robot. He still wanted to give Jungkook other options because feeling like he had to be there for him 100% all the time was starting to stress him out. What if he wanted to go for drinks or just take a nap once in a while? Now that he had started to care for Jungkook he couldn’t just stop doing it and thinking about a lonely little robot curled up on the couch watching anime on his own wasn’t sitting right with him. Maybe he and Tae could have sleepovers? He really needed to have some robot talk with Hoseok when they were visiting.

Jungkook had learned to read Yoongi’s body language by now and with the way he was chewing on his bottom lip, eyes focused on thin air, he knew that he was thinking about something that was angering him in a way. Carefully, the robot got up and began to take the plates with him to leave Yoongi alone with his thoughts. It was always better like this; he had learned it quickly. When he was done, Yoongi was still sitting at the table and Jungkook felt a little confused on what to do. “Do you want to watch tv with me?” Jungkook’s voice broke through Yoongi’s thoughts, “It’s Saturday, they are playing some great movies tonight.”

“Yeah, sure. Do you have one in mind?” He was getting some snacks from the kitchen because even though he could skip a meal without a problem, watching a two hour long movie without snacks was impossible.

Neither of them wanted to watch a specific movie so he let Jungkook pick one at random that the younger liked “because of the cover”. He smiled fondly at how easily one could pique the boy’s interest. A nice movie cover, some hot cocoa… his life seemed simpler, more filled of joy like this. And Yoongi almost envied him for it. Not having to work and doing all the chores, all the paperwork, all that boring, useless, time and energy consuming stuff you had to do as a ‘human’... Jungkook didn’t have to do any of that. And yet, he was so human that you couldn’t differentiate him from anyone else, apart from maybe that boys his age weren’t that innocent anymore or that smiley because life had made sure to wipe that smile off their faces. He could feel his thoughts slipping to a place where he didn’t want to so he concentrated on Jungkook instead. 

The youngers fluffy hair was bobbing everytime Jungkook laughed wholeheartedly and without thinking he buried his fingers into it. Jungkook stiffened for a second, as if needing a second to process who was touching him before he melted against him, turning his head a little in his direction, so trusting and vulnerable that Yoongi’s chest bloomed with warmth. He gently scratched Jungkook’s scalp, brushing his fingers through his hair. It was a nice moment and he almost forgot about the movie - until a moan brought his attention right back to the screen. There was a heated make out scene going on and his first instinct was to cover up Kook eyes to not let him see, like he would do with a child - and then to turn off the TV. But it would be a little childish, wouldn’t it, to interrupt the movie that Jungkook picked just because of that? He could handle that. It was just… that he couldn’t. 

The scene was sexy as hell and he hadn’t slept with someone in a while. Adding Jungkook into the mix who was sitting right next to him, his pretty lips slightly parted as he watched in awe... Yoongi’s mind just wandered elsewhere. He could remember those descriptions that he had found in Jungkook’s manual very vividly but right now was the first time that he dared to recall them properly. Would Jungkook be as eager in pleasing him in bed as he was with anything else? He knew the answer already and he swallowed harshly, mouth going dry at the thought of Jungkook doing what was happening on screen to him. In his bedroom. Or on the couch, right now. He must have done something to give himself away because even though he hadn’t made a sound (he was sure of that!) Jungkook’s head whipped around and he concentrated solely on Yoongi. 

His head was cocked a little sideways as if he was listening to something or questioning something. He must have gotten his answer somehow because he smiled, gaze dropping to Yoongi’s lips and then he leaned forwards - as if he wanted to kiss him. Yoongi just freaked out. He was embarrassed that he had gotten riled up so quickly - and even more that Jungkook had been able to tell what he wanted without him saying it. He got up and Jungkook who had leaned forward almost fell onto the couch. “I... I think I’m gonna take a shower first. You can finish the movie if you want and I’ll just join you later again.” Then he got out of the room as quickly as he could.

The robot had registered it very clearly in this moment, Yoongi’s elevated heartbeat, his quicker breath and dilated pupils. His body temperature was higher than usual. It was like a switch that turned on and with him being so close, Jungkook just couldn’t resist – but before he could reach out, the human jumped up startling him effectively, mumbling something about a hot shower.

Yoongi took his time in the bathroom, not because he needed it (he didn’t draw it out, just got the job done, coming into his hand with a muffled moan) but because it took him a while to feel like himself again. Like he could go out there and pretend like he wasn’t phased by Jungkook’s beauty.

He went back into his bedroom to get fresh clothes with his hair still dripping and a towel wrapped around his waist. He changed into some clean underwear and was about to pull a t-shirt over his head when he noticed that he wasn’t alone any more. He startled visibly, almost knocking into his wardrobe. 

“Fuck, Jungkook, don’t sneak up on me like that! And why are you.. what are you...” He trailed off, stunned silent in utter confusion. Without a word the robot had started to undress in front of Yoongi as if it was the most normal thing to do. “Jungkook, what are you doing?” 

“I’m giving you what you need,” Jungkook whispered and undressed further. There was an aura coming off Yoongi that told him that he had been doing it himself in the shower and yet, his heartbeat hadn’t calmed down nor did it seem that it was enough for Yoongi. The other was still restless, Jungkook could see it clearly in every little movement of his eyes. Everything in him signaled him to do what he was programmed for: to pleasure. Yoongi had stumbled back onto the bed and he barely registered him ordering him to go and sleep, because apparently he was tired. But all of what Yoongi’s body told him was the exact opposite. 

Jungkook felt like he was in a trance. The need to be with Yoongi so bad. He had been used as a housemaid bots for weeks now, nothing of it gave him anything close to what he was craving for. His system was constantly confused, not getting any skin on skin contact that he needed so badly to survive. Jungkook took a step closer. Yoongi said he was ‘perfect’ now, then why did he still refuse to be with him when his body spoke so clearly to him? He was giving him all the signs. And Jungkook couldn’t step away.

Yoongi was trying to push Jungkook away who was refusing to get off the bed even though Yoongi had told him to go twice now and the older was starting to get scared. If Jungkook was refusing his orders then what if he was doing whatever he wanted now? What if Yoongi wouldn’t be able to control him at all? The fear made his voice sharper and his eyes blind to the way Jungkook was desperately trying to reach out for him. 

“Stay the hell away from me, robot!” 

Jungkook froze, finally stilling even though Yoongi hadn’t touched him again. His eyes were filling with tears and they slowly rolled down his cheeks. He looked so miserable that Yoongi was almost sorry - if they both hadn’t been half naked and he still shaken. Jungkook started trembling, not in a natural way, rather as if he was a live wire with too much electricity running through him. Yoongi crawled backwards, getting more distance between them and Jungkook’s gaze followed him, so hurt and so very sad. The shaking intensified and Yoongi got out of bed, reaching for his phone, “Stop it Whatever you are doing right now just stop it!” He was ready to call the robot service when he smelled it, it was like something was burning, something electrical. 

“I... I can’t!” Jungkook looked even more miserable if that was even possible. He still hadn’t moved at all since Yoongi had yelled at him, except for the shaking. Yoongi’s voice had reached through to him, but his system wasn’t listening. It could feel the desperation, the need for pleasure in every fiber of Yoongi’s body, while it was fighting with the urge of his heart to listen to what his boyfriend wanted: him to stop. Jungkook closed his eyes, desperately trying to push back the orders of his own system. “No,” Jungkook mumbled, shaking his head in a desperate manner. “I can’t do it, Yoongi. Help me, please.” He cried out as if he was in pain and it startled Yoongi effectively. Jungkook’s eyes flickered back and forth as he tried to push everything back but it was no use. His system was overloading. 

“H-help me.” 

Yoongi finally reacted, when he realized what was happening. In a matter of seconds, he got back onto the bed, holding Jungkook’s cheeks to make the robot look at him. “What the hell is going on?” He yelled at him, not meaning to be angry right now but he was just as confused and scared. “What the fucking hell is going on, Jungkook!”

The robot’s lips trembled as he tried to focus on the human, trying to keep his hands to himself. Controlling his own body was a task he wasn’t sure he was able to do right now - not with Yoongi being so close. “O-overload,” He sounded like he was in pain, cramping more and more. “Y-you’ve got to clean,” Jungkook began to whisper to himself, feeling his strength leaving his body as he tried to get everything back under control. “Clean, take care of him and he will like you. Be good,” Jungkook’s voice was a trembling, barely audible for Yoongi, who was holding onto the youngers shoulder to keep him upright but nothing seemed to work. “You’ve got to be good. He...he doesn’t want you like that. St-stop.” The robot closed his eyes, as he furrowed his brows, “Sh-shut me off, please. Yoongi, please. I can’t...I can’t do it anymore.” He snapped his eyes open and Yoongi gasped, when he saw the pain, the pure fear in Jungkook’s once so glistening eyes. It was like something had swallowed the galaxy inside them and nothing else but confusion and hatred was left. But not for Yoongi, but himself. Jungkook was fighting himself. 

Yoongi’s hands were shaking as he pulled the robot in against him, trying to push his hair away from his ear. He was panting, trying to hold Jungkook still while he was searching for the button. He wasn’t sure if he could remember the code, or anything else really but he couldn’t let Jungkook destroy himself. His heart was beating hard against his chest and Jungkook leaned closer, feeling it against his own chest. He wanted Yoongi’s heart to beat for him. 

“Why don’t you want me?” Jungkook’s voice sounded broken off, his eyes flickering back and forth with the way Yoongi was screaming orders at him, trying to find the button to push and making him struggle with it. There were tears in his eyes as he held onto the other, feeling dazed as his system was overheating. He could feel it in every fiber of his body that was shaking right now. He blacked out, only to snap back for a moment. “Please stop,” He whined but his voice was barely any louder than a whisper, “I…I j-just want to be w-what you need p-please.” Jungkook fainted again, head falling aside, but his eyes snapped open again, seconds after in sheer panic. “Why can’t I-I be your b-boyfriend?” Jungkook gasped, his whole body stiffening up when Yoongi finally pushed the button in his ear and his eyes glazed over, giving them a grey hue. 

Finally Jungkook laid still and lifeless on the bed. There was no breathing, no sign that he was still ‘there’. He looked like a corpse. Yoongi sat back on the bed and looked at him. Jungkook’s sheer desperation had burned itself into his mind and when he tried to wipe his sweaty hands on the sheets he realized that they were shaking. It felt like he had just killed Jungkook. Not just now; he had started to wear him down from the very beginning. 

Sweet little robot trying to please - and then he came along, rejecting him again and again until the other was begging to be shut off. On his first night Jungkook had been adamant on wanting to stay awake, asking him to not shut him off under any circumstances. And there he was now, shut off completely because apparently not even a robot could survive in his care. There was wetness on his face and he angrily wiped the tears away before they could even count. He wasn’t crying, not really. It was just frustration or... or being overwhelmed. He would tell Hoseok that he had to cancel their visit first and then he would call the robot company and tell them that he would send his robot back and that they didn’t need to destroy him because he hadn’t used him so he was still clean and the imprint may be there but anyone who would be willing to use Jungkook the way he was designed to would be a better owner and that all they had to do was wipe Jungkook's memory and then give him to someone else. 

Someone who wouldn’t let him sleep on the couch and who would take him to bed the very first night.

A/N: This is an early update, as I am on a dance competition all weekend so you’ll get the new chapter today! YAY!!!!!! We hope you enjoyed...well......oops things happened again hm.....sowwy! :D I think Yoongi messed it up for good. 

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[hazkiwislutt]

chapter two: weird dreams, lots of crying, and first dates

{ hi friends!! it’s athena, and here is the second chapter of my new series, chasing love. in this series, y/n is famous, and harry is still famous. y/n is twenty-one right now, and harry is twenty-nine! it’s not as long as the last chapter, but i hope you still like it! there’s mentions of abusive relationships in this chapter, but nothing graphic, so please be careful when reading! thank you, and see you next sunday for chapter three. i loaf u! }

“Harry, I know it’s late, but I need you to come over. Right now.”

Harry had dropped Y/N off at Hannah’s baby shower three days ago, and in the time between then and now, they had texted nonstop. Harry wasn’t normally glued to his phone, but talking to Y/N was fun, and her spontaneous energy was infectious. Within the span of a day, she could send him a deep-fried meme, followed by a cute kitten picture, and then she’d beat him in a game of iMessage pool, but she’d never gloat about it.

They hadn’t fully addressed what had taken place the night before the baby shower, except for two pointed comments the morning after, so Harry’s eyes, which were previously droopy from having been woken up so abruptly, were now large and alert as he processed the fact that Y/N was calling him. At 2:47 in the morning. To come over to her house. Right now.

“Right now?” His voice was gravelly and nearly too deep to understand, but on the other side of the line, it made Y/N shudder.

“Yes, right now. Is that okay? It’s important.” This had Harry fumbling around in his bed like a crazed slug, the phone pressed tightly between his shoulder and his ear, as he tried desperately to untangle himself from his sheets.

“A’right, love. Be there in a bit.” He heard her sigh in relief, before thanking him and hanging up. Harry hopped around the room, trying to shove one leg into his grey sweats while simultaneously reaching for a black shirt hanging from the foot of his bed that he’d discarded a day or two before. He quickly dashed into the bathroom, brushing his teeth as effectively as he could before gargling with mouthwash and shoving his phone and keys into his pockets.

As he started his car, he deliberated on how fast he could get there without blowing himself to smithereens. He backed out of his garage, a funny expression on his face, because it seemed that only Y/N could make him think such intense, but silly, thoughts. He wondered if that was a problem.

…

“Harry, get in, quick!” As soon as the door opened, Harry was seized by the front of his shirt and whisked inside Y/N’s house before he had the chance to open his mouth and greet her. She didn’t even turn around as she slammed her front door shut and quickly dragged him down the hall. Harry thought she was taking him into the living room, but instead, she turned down a smaller hallway that led to a single room, the door propped open a sliver.

“Love, calm down, s’the matter?” He was torn between a mix of curious and nervous, because Y/N would not tell him what was happening, or why they were going into this small room off the main parts of her house, or why she’d grabbed him and whisked him away so suddenly. She pushed the door open, still clutching Harry’s hand tightly in hers, before stepping into the dimly lit room, which Harry realized was Y/N’s music room, as his eyes adjusted to the low lamplight.

It was painted the same mauve color as her kitchen, except instead of white accents, there were pale yellow ones around the trim of the room. There was a grey sofa in the middle of the room that was perpendicular to the door, dilapidated and worn, but large enough to seat three people comfortably, that sat atop an ivory shag rug.

A black grand piano sat in one corner of the room behind the sofa, facing away to the wall, while a full drum set occupied the opposite corner, facing the sofa. Directly in front of the sofa, there was a desk that held a computer, a plug-in keyboard for mixing, and a microphone. On the side of the desk, in yet another corner, various instruments, such as saxophones and trumpets, were put on stands. Harry wondered if she played all of those instruments. He couldn’t recall anything she said in interviews about what instruments she played.

The walls were decorated by an extreme amount of guitars, basses, and ukuleles, pegged on the walls in arbitrary order, but they looked as if they were exactly where they were meant to be. Even Harry himself couldn’t say he had half as many instruments as she had, and he was both amazed and impressed.

Y/N plopped down onto the couch, picking her feet up and tucking them under her bum, as she reached around the side of it and pulled up a simple acoustic guitar with light brown wood grain and nylon strings. Harry followed, tentatively sitting down next to her, still a bit put off by the fact she hadn’t said anything to him yet, as she situated it on her lap. He looked at her in the dim light: her eyes were glistening tiredly, her hair was incredibly mussed and frazzled in a cute, but very noticeable way, and her pajamas were terribly rumpled, as if she had taken a roll shortly before she answered the door. Before Harry could ask what was wrong, she’d already opened her mouth.

“Okay, so, hear me out. I was having the worst luck falling asleep, but when I finally did, I had a dream about you. I was sleeping, like, dream-me was sleeping, and you came into my bedroom wearing my polka-dot onesie for whatever reason, but by the way, when we’re done here, I want you to try it on, ‘cause the pink made your eyes look exceptionally bright, and I want to see for myself,” Y/N paused her mile-a-minute speech, fingers twiddling together as she furrowed her brow as if she were musing the idea.

It was silent for a tick, and although Harry had met Y/N twice in person, and both times she’d been so unpredictable it nearly made him dizzy, he still couldn’t get a handle on how… how… out-there, she really was. He loved it, but his still-fuzzy brain could not keep up with how fast she was talking. Just as he was about to clear his throat to prompt her to continue, she’d already beat him to it.

“Anyways, you woke me up, nearly broke down my bedroom door because I’d run out of Spam, which confused me a bit, ‘cause you probably haven’t had Spam ever, Mr. Health Machine. So, we went downstairs, got in my car, without even brushing or changing, and went to Target. But, the doors wouldn’t open! You know how they’ve got the automatic swing doors? Yeah, those weren’t opening, so you began to sing a song. Not one of yours, or mine, or anyone’s that I know of. But the doors opened, and I woke up, because that song was so… so…” Y/N began gesticulating wildly as she struggled for words to continue her thoughts, “The melody was beautiful and when I woke up, I couldn’t remember any of the words but I just remember waking up with a smile on my face.”

Y/N sat back against the couch, seemingly waiting for Harry’s response. She was looking at him expectantly, mindlessly walking her hands up and down the fretboard in an array of chords. Harry’s mind caught up to her words, and he rubbed his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he prepared a coherent answer.

“S’an interesting dream, innit, love? What’d yeh have before yeh went t’bed?” Harry eyed her as he talked. Y/N looked up from where she was concentrating on a certain chord, staring him dead in the eye.

“A shot of whiskey and an orange. I haven’t slept more than two hours between yesterday and today.” Harry tilted his head, concerned, and perplexed, but he couldn’t help laughing a little.

“God, we have got to stop meeting up when yeh drunk, and yeh need to get more sleep, love.” He laid his head back against the couch, eyes still trained on Y/N. He couldn’t help but feel as if something were a bit different in the way she was acting, but it was also a little past three in the morning, and Harry didn’t trust his sleepy brain.

“I’m not drunk, and I normally do!” She reached over and pinched his waist playfully, which made him gasp and recoil, swatting her hand lightly.

“A’right, moving on, so I sang a song, an’ yeh couldn’t remember it when yeh woke up?” Harry suddenly snorted comically, kicking his feet up under him onto the couch similar to Y/N. He began laughing terribly hard, and Y/N couldn’t help but laugh alongside him, although he hadn’t said anything yet. They were doubled over, properly wheezing, and Harry was sure he’d shed a tear or two.

“God,” Harry was barely able to talk through his laughter, “S’like tha’ one song I did w’the boys a while back… I can’t even remember the- Oh! Best Song Ever! Fuck, it was so bleeding long ago, I was like… I was nineteen when we released tha’ bloody song, an’ now I’m twenty-nine? How the fuck did tha’ happen? Ten years ago? No fuckin’ way.”

Their laughter died down as Harry drank in some memories he’d forgotten existed for a moment. Maybe he’d been so deep in thought that Y/N had to reach over and grasp his hand, because that’s exactly what she did, and it was all Harry needed to come back to her. He looked at her, squeezing her hand in hers and smiling at her reassuringly.

“For the record,” Y/N responded, “I screamed bloody murder the first time it came on the radio from how proud I was of you all, and I didn’t even know you yet. It’s a nice song, right?” Harry grinned bashfully and squeezed her hand again. Both were painfully aware that they were almost completely out of it from how much sleep they were missing, and it was causing them to go on an insane amount of tangents, but they couldn’t find it in themselves to care. They simply enjoyed the feeling of having the other around.

“Means a lot, love. Now, m’sorry for getting off topic. So, yeh had this dream, came down into this room, and… Called me?” Harry raised his brow in question, and Y/N clutched his hand tighter, nodding her head up and down vigorously.

“Yeah, so, I came down here and started playing around, trying to recreate the melody, but I wanted you to hear it, for obvious reasons, and because I didn’t want to take advantage of dream-you’s work. So, here you are, and here I am, about to play what you came up with in my dream. I added the lyrics, but they’re a load of shit, and I’ll probably clean them up later.” She finished punctually, sitting back and situating her fingers along the fretboard, before breathing in and beginning to pick softly at the strings.

The words were beautiful; they painted pictures of a harsh love and a heartbreak that Harry didn’t believe he could swallow at such a late hour, but he did, because it was Y/N singing this beautiful melody about something so sad, and he had the honor of being the first person to hear it, even if it was three in the morning and Harry’s throat was constricting quite fast from the onslaught of emotions. His eyes watered and he gasped disbelievingly, swiping at them gently, as Y/N continued to sing, eyes shut and forehead creased as she crooned out the tune she’d strung together.

It was a short segment of a song that he knew could be turned into something amazing, but as Y/N muted the guitar strings and laid it back down where she’d retrieved it on the side of the sofa, she turned her whole body toward him and grasped his hands once more: something Harry realized she was comfortable with doing with him, and it just made the intensity of what he’d witnessed more prominent.

Harry couldn’t stop the tears for whatever reason; the words brought emotions to the surface he couldn’t even remember feeling, and it was Y/N who was singing those words, and she was just so sweet and lovely, Harry’s heart just couldn’t take it. Y/N scooted closer, gently rubbing his back as Harry wiped his eyes.

“What do you think,” she asked softly, as if anything louder than the way she was asking would break him.

“God, yeh so bloody awesome. Yeh… s’actually a little bit insane.” Harry let out a short laugh, squeezing both of her hands in his, and his heart melted as she looked down shyly.

“Thank you, but Harry, why are you crying?” Y/N moved even closer, eliminating any and all space between where they were sitting, before hesitantly wrapping an arm around his shoulders, allowing her to rest her head atop his and him to slot into her side as she continued to rub his back.

“Honestly,” Harry said, “I don’t have a clue. What did yeh write that song about? S’really, really sad.” Y/N breathed in deeply as she contemplated whether she should be candid about something so serious at this time, but she figured there was nothing she couldn’t tell Harry if he was willing to get out of bed and drive over to her house so late at night.

“My first boyfriend was abusive,” she began, halting for a short period of time before recomposing and continuing, “My next boyfriend was also abusive, and so was the girlfriend I had after, and the boyfriend I had after that… And when I’d finally broken the cycle, with that guy I told you about at Niall’s party, who wasn’t abusive, but wasn’t a saint either, all of the things I’d experienced had been my main muse.”

Harry sat up from where he was tucked into Y/N, pulling back to look at her eyes which seemed a little more dull in color, but a lot brighter in shine because it looked like she was about to cry herself, and her mouth, which was set in a grim line that held an air of determination rather than discouragement. Harry was amazed. He was put in awe of someone so unique and strong and free, and he lunged for her, cradling her close and rocking her back in forth.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” He spoke lowly, stroking the back of her head as he held her tightly.

“I told you I was tired of chasing love,” she said back, nestling her face into Harry’s neck as she let a few stray tears fall. It had been awhile since she’d told someone about those things, albeit just a very watered down version, but she was glad that someone was Harry, who seemed to have a knack for making her heart do funny things and who drove to her house just because she asked him to in the dead of night.

It was quiet in the room as the two held onto each other, until Y/N pulled back to look at him, but held his hands in hers, and said, “It’s close to four now. I’m sorry for making you drive here so late.”

Harry shook his head adamantly, “No, don’t apologize. Wouldn’t have… Wouldn’t have come if I didn’t want to see yeh. While we’re being honest, it seems like lately seeing yeh is all I want to do.”

Y/N startled a bit, Harry could feel it in the way she tightened her grip and relaxed. She stared at him, a sort of shy wonderment in her eyes as he wondered what she was thinking. Just like last time, it was night time, and they were in close proximity, but Harry had no alcohol running through his bloodstream.

He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised that sober Harry felt the same way about Y/N that drunk Harry did, even if he did try to suppress the strong feelings of interest he had in her since the night he’d met her.

“Seeing you is something I like doing, as well.” Y/N responded to him quietly, smiling a little bit. The conversation lulled to a stop once again, and Harry decided that comfortable silence with Y/N was not so overrated.

“It’s almost four, and I think I’m a bit tired, Harry.” Y/N said, suddenly, voice a little more soft at the edges and a little scratchy with fatigue.

“A’right, let m’carry yeh up to yeh bed then, since tha’ seems like all yeh need me for.” Harry laughed as she softly pinched his cheek, before he got up to turn off the lamp. It seemed as if she was too tired to object, and Harry didn’t mind.

He scooped her up, and she instinctively tucked her head into his neck as he walked down the hall and up the stairs to her bedroom. Harry thought it was terribly funny that every encounter they’d had ended with someone’s bed, but as he looked down at Y/N’s eyes that were fluttering open and shut with every bounce of Harry’s step, he decided it wasn’t the worst thing in the world, especially since he got to see her struggle to stay awake in such an adorable manner.

Once in her bedroom, Harry gently rested her in one arm and his opposite hip in order to pull back the sheets before adjusting her to place her down softly. He made sure half of her body was covered, and the over half was bare to the air, just like she’d liked the first night he’d met her.

“Get in,” Y/N yawned, “You’re not driving back so late and you give such nice cuddles. Please come lay with me.” She tiredly patted the empty space next to her with a soft hand and well, Harry couldn’t say no.

He walked around to the other side of the bed, gently settled into her sheets, and pulled her toward him, causing her to hum and sigh contentedly. She smelled like everything good and kind in the world, and sleep began to seem like such a wonderful paradise until-

“Turn around,” Y/N urged, before rolling over to face him. Harry obliged, turning over sluggishly, and he felt her arms envelope him from behind, filling him with a sense of contentment.

Cuddling with Y/N is one of Harry’s favorite new things, he thinks sleepily as he lets the pulse of her heart and sound of her breathing lull him to sleep.

He hopes he never has to go without it from now on.

…

When Y/N woke up, Harry wasn’t in bed next to her. The sheets were cold, and the sunlight was more intense that it would have been if it were earlier in the morning, so she assumed it was later. Somehow, she wasn’t filled with dread and negative thoughts didn’t cloud her head. Even if her past experiences had done a number on her, she believed wholeheartedly Harry wouldn’t have simply run back to his house. She knew he was somewhere.

She swung her legs out of bed, yawning and stretching exaggeratedly before hoisting herself up and padding down the stairs. She didn’t hear any bustling, but the smell of food led her into the kitchen. Harry wasn’t there, but instead, a stack of pancakes, sunny-side up eggs, and bacon were arranged nicely on two separate plates, as well as cut up fruit. Y/N’s heart flipped a bit inside, and she smiled wide, biting the inside of her cheek as she fought to wipe it off her face.

Y/N decided that she knew exactly where Harry was, so she turned on her heel and walked down the hall into her music room. Harry was sat on the couch, his back to her, simply looking around at the room. She noticed he had pulled back the yellow curtains that had covered the windows in the room last night, washing the room in the LA summer sun.

“You cooked.” Y/N’s voice didn’t startle him. He turned around, smiling at her, before responding plainly, “I did.” She walked over to him and kneeled in front of where he sat, taking his hands in hers and squeezing them.

“Thank you.” She gazed up at him with so much sincerity that it nearly made Harry’s heart stop. “You always take care of me.”

“F’course, love. S’one of my new favorite things to do, besides cuddling yeh.” She giggled, nodding her head lightly. “Yeh play all these?” Harry gestured around the room to the instruments that glittered in the sunlight.

“I know my way around all of them, but I’m not good at all of them. It’s one thing to know how to play them, it’s another thing to play them well. Like, the trumpet. I can play notes, but I’m no Louis Armstrong.” She paused, before continuing, “I was in band and choir in high school. Music is all I’ve ever been good at. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.”

She said it so reverentially that it moved Harry, and suddenly, the feelings he’d been so good at suppressing bubbled to the surface, his mouth opening before his mind could put a stop to it.

“Go out on a date with me.” The words squeaked out of him, and his eyes widened as Y/N sat back a bit and looked at him intently. Harry suddenly thought that the sun’s light began to be a little too hot for his liking as he began to sweat lightly. “Doesn’t have to mean anything f’yeh don’t want it to, an’ yeh don’t have to! M’sorry if tha’ came out as a demand instead of a question, don’t want to make yeh uncomfortable-”

“Sure.” That one word halted Harry so quickly, he nearly got whiplash from it. She squeezed his hands, that she hadn’t let go of, which made Harry internally cringe because it meant she could probably feel how clammy they were. She looked up at him with a smirk, before getting up and sitting next to him on the couch.

“Really?” Harry was struck, gnawing his bottom lip worriedly as if she hadn’t heard him right and didn’t know what she was actually agreeing to.

“I said, sure. I’ll go on a date with you. I’ve been thinking lately that I’ve got a strong interest in you and I,” she breathed in as if the next words would be a laborious task to get out, “and I… Maybe we could see just how strong they are.” Harry just stared at her, still dumbfounded, so she continued, “It doesn’t have to be serious if we don’t want it to be.”

Harry began to nod his head slowly, before moving closer to her, looking her directly in the eyes.

“How about this, love,” he started, once he’d gotten his thoughts in order and his hands became a little less sweaty, “It doesn’t have to be serious, yet.”

His emphasis on the last word filled Y/N with hope as she looked back at him. “Yet” implied that Harry wanted it to be serious down the line, and it made Y/N’s insides turn to mush. Despite the past experiences she’d had, Y/N couldn’t find it in herself to be terrified of the prospect of starting something with Harry.

Not when she was looking into sea-green eyes littered with specks of gold, not when below those sea-green eyes, beautifully pink lips stretched shyly around a grin, and definitely not when those beautifully pink lips were being chewed nervously, as if he was worried he’d said the wrong thing. Y/N couldn’t find it in herself to be scared of chasing love with Harry. Not at all.

“Deal.”

{ @lovableah }

[scottmcwinchester]

2k fic of nothing but Emre smut

I’ve been obsessed with Emre for the past few weeks and I’ve really been wanting to write something, so here it is!

--

Emre walked out of the shower with a towel wrapped loosely around his hips. Water was glistening off his chest and drops were falling off his hair. He absentmindedly scratched at his chest while checking the time. It was nearing ten o’clock at night and Emre reasoned that there was no need to put on a pair of fresh clothes. Instead, he made his way to his drawer and grabbed a pair of boxers. He was about to drop his towel and put them on before he heard his girlfriend, Gia, come in the room.

He dropped his boxers and his mouth fell open.

Standing there in the doorframe was Gia. She was wearing a black negligee that was see through everywhere except for her bust and bottom.

Emre’s first thought was to grab her and pin her down to the bed. Instead, he stood there, gaping at her. He was usually the one to initiate sex, but something in Gia’s eyes tonight told Emre that things would be different tonight. “Gia, you look…”

Gia held up a finger to her mouth. “Don’t say anything.” Emre silently obeyed as Gia motioned for him to go to the bed. Emre walked over, clutching his towel as he sat down on the edge of the bed. Gia came over and Emre swallowed. Gia always wore her hair down, but tonight she had it pinned up with loose strands framing her face. Emre always loved her hair up, the few times that he had seen it.

Emre continued sitting on the bed as Gia came and straddled him. She stroked his face like she always did before they got intimate. “What’s gotten into you?” Emre asked, curiosity taking over.

“Hopefully you in a few minutes,” she replied with a kiss.

Emre began kissing her neck, trailing down to her collarbones. When he got to her cleavage, he began flicking his tongue between the dip. Gia grabbed the back of his head and shoved it against her chest, between her tits. Emre responded by grabbing the top of her negligee and pulling it down on one side, exposing her nipple. He eagerly wrapped his tongue around it, flicking around. He used his hand to rub her other nipple through the silky material. He continued sucking her nipple, sucking hard enough to hear her whine. He bit down gently, enough to cause her to say a few cuss words. Emre quickly pulled the other part of the negligee down, pushing it down Gia’s waist so that now both her tits were out. Emre moved his mouth to the other nipple, making sure to rub the other one with his hand. He bit down harder than before causing Gia to buck her hips.

“Emre, please,” Gia whined.

Emre adjusted their position slightly so that he had one knee between her thighs. He brought them down on the bed, him on bottom, still with the towel around his waist. Gia quickly took her negligee off around her waist and threw it on the floor. Emre took in the sight of her on top of him, her caramel skin littered with little red marks around her tits. He put his hands on her waist and ran them down her sides.

Gia felt Emre through the thin towel. He was already hard. She rubbed him through it, enjoying hearing him cuss when she stopped. She took the towel off and admired Emre. Emre’s knee was still between her thighs and she slowly began moving back and forth on it. It felt good but it wasn’t enough.

Emre must have realized because he was about to put his hand between her legs but Gia stopped him. “I want to do something else.”

Emre continued lying down as Gia moved up his body. She moved all the way up the headboard and gave him a questioning look. Emre quickly understood and nodded his head. They had never done it like this before, but Emre was feeling excited and all he wanted to do was make Gia feel good.

Gia looked nervous, but Emre said, “C’mon baby, do it.”

This seemed to make the girl feel better. She buckled her knees and placed them on both sides’ of Emre’s face as she sat. Emre instantly flicked his tongue into her, making her hips buck. Emre circled around her clit, lapping around it but never touching it directly. He made circles with her tongue; he could feel her getting wetter by the second. He opened his mouth farther, trying to taste and feel her as much as he could.

Gia made slowly rocked back and forth against Emre. His beard gave a tickling sensation that she loved. She responded by meeting every flick of Emre’s tongue. The sucking noise was enough to make her want to come. Emre placed his hands on her ass, grabbing tightly. Gia looked down and saw Emre’s face under her, his eyes closed in a dreamy way. She grabbed the headboard and began grinding against Emre’s face. Everything was wet underneath, but it didn’t matter because she soon felt her stomach tighten and felt a flush as she came.

Gia felt weightless as she fell on her back next to Emre. Emre didn’t waste any time kissing her neck. One of his hands snaked behind her head and gently pulled her hair pin out, letting her black hair cascade behind her. Emre felt Gia’s breathing go back to normal as he continued kissing her wherever his lips could reach.

“Emre, I fucking love you,” Gia breathed out, a faint blush on her cheeks.

Emre caught her lips between his as the girl tasted herself on his tongue. They continued kissing as Emre placed his body horizontally on hers. His cock was rock hard against her stomach.  Gia was going to grab Emre’s cock in her hand, but he softly pushed her hand away. He was too embarrassed to say that if she touched his cock, that he would have come in an instant. Eating her out had driven him crazy and all he wanted to do was be inside her.

Emre nudged Gia’s legs, spreading them apart. He put his body weight on one side while Gia made herself more comfortable. She grabbed a pillow and put it underneath her head. She smiled and nodded. Emre didn’t need any more confirmation.

Emre began rubbing small circles up Gia’s thighs. He could feel the heat between her thighs as his hand snaked up. She was still wet from before as he teased a finger against her pussy. His finger slid in her so easily, so smoothly it made Emre bite his lips and close his eyes from how good it felt. He felt his cock twitch as he inserted another finger. He slowly began scissoring her as he dipped his head down to lick at her nipples again. Gia simply put her hand in his hair and sighed contently. Emre continued scissoring her before adding another finger. Every time he would push in, Gia would move closer, so a rocking motion was in play. Emre’s fingers went deeper as he simultaneously bit down on Gia’s nipple, making the girl moan. Emre gave her nipple one last kiss before pulling away.

Emre gave Gia one last look before positioning himself completely over her. Her legs were on both sides of him as he grabbed his cock and placed it at her entrance. He knew how crazy it drove Gia when he teased like this. The head of his cock rested against her and Emre smirked as he saw Gia try to sink down on him. “Emre, just do it,” she said, flustered already.

Emre didn’t need to be told twice. With a grunt, he pushed himself completely in.

“Oh,” Gia let out, feeling Emre completely filling her up. She could feel Emre everywhere, on top of her and inside of her. It was a unique feeling that made her feel like they were the only two people in the world.

Emre pushed in and out. In and out in and out in and out. He set up a motion that Gia responded to with her hips. She met every thrust. Emre sped up as he looked her in the eyes. He reached his hand out and put one of his fingers in Gia’s mouth. Gia instantly began sucking it, her eyes closed in ecstasy. Emre kept slamming in her as their bodies meshed together. Emre removed his finger, trailing it down her chest, all the way to her lap. He grabbed her clit and began rubbing it.

Gia gripped the sheets. “Emre, fuck.”

Emre kept rubbing her clit, applying pressure to the sensitive nub. Gia’s breathing was getting heavier and her nipples were hard. Her eyes were closed and she was biting down on her lips.

Emre felt that he would soon come, but he wanted to make this last a little longer. He quickly pulled out, eliciting a whine from Gia. He patted her hips. “Get on your knees baby.”

Gia obeyed. She got on all fours as Emre repositioned himself behind her. He slapped her ass, enjoying see his handprint on her. He grabbed her waist tightly before shoving his cock back in her. He closed his eyes, the sensation tight and wet. He fucked into her hard, Gia rocking her ass to meet his movements. Her tits were swinging and her hair was sticking to her face. Gia grabbed one of Emre’s hands and placed it between her thighs.

Emre knew what she wanted, but he wanted to hear her beg. “What do you want baby?” He leaned and whispered in her ear, still inside her. “You have to tell me.”

“Emre,” Gia moaned. “Touch me.”

“But I am touching you,” Emre replied, knowing exactly what to say to rile Gia up.

“Touch my fucking clit!” She half cried out. She grabbed his hand and put it on her clit. She groaned when Emre laughed and began rubbing her.

Gia felt like everything was right. Emre was inside her, his cock making her feel so good. She bounced back and every thrust made her feel closer to the edge. Emre’s skilled hand kept rubbing her and she soon felt her legs shake. Emre must have felt it too because his thrusts become more concentrated.

Gia soon felt that oh too familiar feeling again. She felt the heat in her stomach as her back arched. She clenched around Emre as she came, enough to do it for him.

Emre cussed as he felt Gia clench around his cock. His pre cum had already leaked and he could tell he was about to come. He gave one last thrust as he felt his body go weak. He came in Gia with a shudder. Gia laid down on her stomach as Emre was on her back. Emre was heavy, but it was a comfortable heavy on Gia.

Emre didn’t want to, but he slowly pulled out, wiping himself on the sheets. He picked his discarded shower towel off the floor and gently flipped Gia on her back. He dabbed the towel between her legs, wiping away any wetness and cum.

Gia smiled tiredly. Emre smiled back as he lay back down on top of her. Gia wrapped her arms around his neck. Emre wrapped his arms around her back as she lifted up a little. Her tits were soft against his bare chest. Emre nuzzled into her neck, feeling nothing but the heat and love between him and Gia. He began sucking the soft skin on her neck and biting down.

“A hickey Emre, really?” Gia asked, giggling. “What are we, sixteen?”

Emre pulled back to check his work and was pleased with the hickey. “Just leaving my finishing touches.”

“I can still feel you inside me,” Gia whispered softly.

“I can still feel myself in you.”

Emre kissed Gia. He felt himself get hard again, but he knew that Gia was tired. Instead, Emre pushed her hair out of her face. He grabbed the soft white duvet and threw it around both their bodies.

Emre gave Gia one last good night kiss before telling her I love you. She said it back and Emre felt satisfied. He soon fell asleep, dreaming about nothing except Gia.

[awesomeangelbliss]

His Fantasy

Falling for someone whose sexual appetite duplicates and can exceed my own was a beautiful fate. Our desire for each other is unparalleled, scorching and scintillating at its peak. Of course Doug has more experience than myself, I was sweet and innocent until he corrupted me. At least I like to remember it that way. But in all honesty our appetites are pretty normal, for us anyway. There is no hitting, spitting, urinating or bruising-well not on purpose. The constant ache I have for him is overwhelming sometimes. To the point where I would do anything to please him. He has a fantasy, and I'll admit I'm a little unsure about it, but whatever his wishes I want to fulfill them. So I have made all the arrangements and have it planned for our first anniversary. It took three months to set up and find the perfect one. I've met with countless men and became a little disappointed at not finding a spark. This one is perfect. Brody's a Marine stationed at a nearby base. He's part of a SOCOM unit and he's stateside while they're training. He and I have talked at length about what I expect out of tonight, and if we are compatible, possibly future dates. With Doug being a Marine, they will have that in common and I hope they will actually be able to enjoy this beyond the event itself. Yes "The Event" is what I've named this in my mind. It's a turning point in our relationship and one I'm very uncertain of. The intimacy between us is unique and special and I'm afraid this will change "Us". As the doorbell rings butterflies erupt and my insides feel like they are convulsing. I'm nervous and excited all at the same time. I open the door and there Brody stands. All 6'4" of hardened muscle and tanned skin. He's a few years younger than I am but he's assured me that age has no place in this experience. "Hi Brody, come on in" as I walk back into the room he takes my shaking hand in his "Angel are you alright?" He asks. "I'm fine" I respond and attempt to pull my hand back. "You're not fine, and we need to be honest with each other. This needs to be open so there are no misunderstandings" his voice is soothing and my tremors start to abate. "I'm just nervous and I want this to be good for everyone involved. I want Doug to be happy and I want to please him" I sputter. "Is this something you want?" Brody asks pleadingly. I pause and think over why I'm doing this. Taking a deep breath, and with a sauciness I didn't know I'd feel, I reply "I'm willing to try anything once." I smile as I start to regain some of my confidence. "Well good then hun, because I think I owe you a proper hello." As he leans in I can't take my eyes from his. He's got a sensual quality that could make panties drop from across the room. His lips brush mine, once and then twice. His hand comes around the small of my back and pulls me close to him. Our bodies pressed together and I can feel his cock through his jeans. His very large, very hard cock. He plunders my mouth as though he's searching for divinity, I hear him moan. And god help me my panties are wet. I can feel my pussy contract from just a kiss. Damn this man is hot. I'm amazed as he sucks at my bottom lip and gives me a couple of sweet soft pecks. And then smiles as I stare in awe at his prowess. " No hun, it's not always like that" he coughs to break my spell. "How did you know that was what I was thinking?" I ask as I furrow my brow in question. "Because I was thinking the same thing." Doug should be coming home around six and and it's already 5:30. The plan is for us to be engaged on the kitchen counter as I was in the middle of fixing dinner. The scene will be set and we will enjoy each other for the duration of tonight. As I light the candles on the table and set out the wine Brody approaches me from behind. He slides his arms around me and kisses the juncture between my shoulder and neck. Goosebumps erupt across my skin and my nipples pebble. I feel work roughened hands slide up my skirt and I'm not nearly as nervous as I was before. It's titillating to imagine how turned on and excited Doug will be. I want him to be provoked into taking me, so aroused that he will lose control. As Brody's fingers make there way into my panties, and find out how incensed I actually am, I realize Doug may not be the only one fired up by this. He's not in uniform but by his command and control, he's used to being in charge. That's another thing he and Doug have in common and it's my kryptonite. I love dominant men. I want to be bent to their will and rewarded with my punishment. Within seconds I hear a tear and my panties brush my thighs as they fall to the floor. A quick inhalation and moan is all there's time for as Brody spins me around and pins me to the granite counter top. "Angel, whose going to fuck this sweet wet pussy?" He growls into my ear. "You- you are" I stutter in return. "That's right, and I want you to moan loud and clear as your man watches us." He sounds so assured and I hope I know what I'm getting myself into. I'm wearing a lose black dress cinched at the waist. Open enough to hint at my generous unbound breasts and loose enough to play before removing it. Underneath are black thigh high stockings and a garter belt, it was paired with a red lace thong that Brody has left in the floor by the table. With his hands up my dress he grabs my round ass, one cheek in each hand and deftly lifts me onto the counter. My seductive heels clicking together as my legs wrap around his waist. He devours me with a kiss, so deep and drugging, I'm drunk on him. His thumbs caressing my inner thighs spread my legs wide as he places soft wet kisses to my neck and chest. My hands come up and open the top of my dress, exposing my large breasts for him. Looking up he says "I've waited three months to have you, and I'm going to savor every taste". His head descends and he captures my nipple between his teeth. The sting of the bite is soothed by his tongue laving, taking a deep mouthful and sucking until my back arches. I can't believe the mewling sounds coming from myself. Sounds I only make for one other man. With my dress pulled up to my waist and my breasts exposed Brody leans me back and lifts my heels in his hands. I can feel the cool air hit my heated flesh and the wetness on my thighs is glistening in the light. I am wanton for release. "Please Brody, I need to cum". " Oh baby you're gonna cum, and you'll be begging me to stop soon enough. You may not be able to walk after I'm done with you." Shivering with need "Then prove it" I bite out between clenched teeth. Laughing at my false bravado "Baby just remember you asked for it. Now lay back and let me eat this sweet little pussy." And just like that I obeyed. Brody pulls his t-shirt over his head and reaches back for a bar stool. Looks to be settling in for an eight course meal. He looks me directly in the eye as he swipes his tongue from my opening, between my swollen wet lips and up to my clit. I see his eyes flutter closed a moment before reconnecting with mine "You taste like heaven Angel". And with a little giggle I'm propped up on my elbows watching a gorgeous man eat my needy pussy. Brody sucks and works my lips and clit until I'm grabbing his hair and bucking my hips. It's when I'm thrashing my head back and forth I catch a glimpse of movement above my head in the doorway. You are staring in fascination as Brody eats me on our kitchen counter. As if this type of thing happens everyday I smile wickedly and say "Happy anniversary my gorgeous man". This brings your eyes back to mine as a lascivious twinkle shines bright and a smirk lifts the corner of your mouth. "And this is my gift?" You asks just as Brody sucks my clit deeply and thrust his thick finger into my hot wet channel. "Fffuuuccckkk" I grind out as the orgasm makes my inner walls clamp down onto Brody's fingers. I closed my eyes as he continues to wring the sensations from me and when they finally start to slow I open my eyes and you are there. You've unbutton, unzipped and taken your hard cock in hand. My mouth begins to water. You know that seeing you stroke your cock gets me jazzed. I can see the pre-cum glistening at your tip. I feel Brody shift as his fingers trace my mouth and I open sucking my own juices from his digits. Brody leans over me and whispers "I could eat you all day hun, don't you taste sweet?" As he takes my breast into his mouth and sucks. A moment later warm skin shifts against my thighs, there is an audible pop as he comes off my breast as he slides the head of his cock through my juices. "Oh so wet baby, do you like him watching us? Do you want him too? " and I do. I want you both. I wanted to be safe and waited to be sure all of Brody's tests were clean and he was healthy. As his 9" cock glides effortlessly through my lower lips I'm thankful we are bare. The warmth of skin on skin is unmatched. Brody must enjoy it too because he's started moaning and slipping against my clit with more force. I look back over to you and see your straining cock in your thick hand and your eyes on me. No matter where we are or what we're doing, you always make me feel beautiful. I offer you a shy smile as I peel my hand from the grip I have on the counter and beckon you to me. Just as Brody slides the head of his cock to my opening and I bring the head of your cock to my mouth. His shallow thrusts testing the resistance as I clean the pre-cum that's now created rivulets down your shaft. "Thats it baby swallow my cock while he fucks MY pussy" your voice is gravel, like shards of glass, and it could be my undoing. It's time for the teasing to end and pleasure to begin and in one simultaneous thrust I'm impaled. Brody's cock is balls deep and your cock is deep in my throat. I have to make myself concentrate as I think that I look like dinner, spit-roasted on the counter and served as a buffet. You know just how much I can take, the slick saliva coating your veiny shaft lubricates and allows for deep throating that could star in porn. My gurgling moans as I feel another orgasm approach spur you in to thrust deeper. My hands holding your thighs as my nails score your skin. Brody's thrusts are fast and deep. My pussy making the same wet noises my mouth is. "Are you gonna cum for us hun? Cum all over my cock? I want your honey coating me so you can suck it all off" Brody asks. You pull back and lean down taking my mouth in a savage kiss as you reach over and tweak my bouncing nipple just as Brody strokes his thumb through my juices and across my wet clit. My walls convulse around him and he groans trying to keep up his slapping rhythm as my pussy milks his cock and I feel the throbbing as he cums deep inside me. His continuing thrusts slow as you release my mouth and I inhale a ragged breath. "Fuck baby you are perfect, and you are mine. Did you like the way he made you cum? Does MY pussy like being filled with his seed?" You look me in the eye asking questions and I can't lie. "Yes, yes I liked it. I liked his tongue making me moan and his cock filling me full." As Brody pulls out of me I can feel his cum leaking down my crack and thickly coating my ass. You're staring at me as though you want to ravage me making your way to my pussy. And as if in an unspoken agreement Brody is at my head still half hard and obviously ready for more. Your staring at my cum covered cunt stroking your cock coated in my saliva. "Does MY pussy want more? Does MY pussy need my cum filling it and dripping to the floor?" With a shaky breath I whimper "Yes Doug, fill YOUR pussy with cum. I want MY cock deep inside me, please baby fuck me." You slap my clit with the fleshy head of your engorged member until I'm begging for you to fill me. In one solid thrust, your balls are tickling my ass and I'm impaled by you. You set a punishing pace as if trying to remove any traces of his thrusts. And I love it. This is what I hoped for. I wanted your loss of control, you showing me who I belong to. Brody has a Southern California tan that extends evenly across his body which compliments his sandy blonde hair. With his arms outstretched holding the counter hovering above my mouth I have a perfect view of his chiseled chest—those pecs, and those perfect 8 squares of muscle rippling down to the sharp V of his groin. And just as he promised his now fully hard cock is coated in my cream. "Are you gonna clean me up hun? You have a perfect tight little pussy. It's made to be fucked. What about this pretty little mouth?" He purrs "Your mouth is just as hot as this pussy baby, suck him dry." I'm not sure which shocks me more, that you heard him or that you've ordered me to show him how well I suck cock. Either way I'm getting close to cumming again and open my mouth to lick him clean. I taste myself on your cock often but my essence mixed with another mans is different, exotic to my tongue. His cum is musky and I can't help but savor the differences. Taking him deeper and deeper. "That's it baby, you look so good taking my cock and devouring his." Your compliment spurs ripples in my core and Brody's groans of appreciation cause contractions. "Angel your mouth is so hot, fuck your gonna make me cum again." His thrusts get deeper in amazement that I can take him. Your pace is steady as my orgasm hits and my pussy tightens around your pulsating shaft. Hard deep thrusts cause me to fall over the edge and take you with me siphoning and draining your cum into me. My moans vibrating his shaft trigger Brody and he pulls out stroking and shooting cum all over my breasts. I can't tell whose panting labored breaths belong to whom. I'm holding my breasts as the cum is pooling and starting to drip. Your cock is still hard and your shallows thrust are squelching as my continued aftershocks squeeze the mixture of cum from me. Brody is holding himself up by the counter when you suggest "Lets get you in the shower and clean you up baby." As you gently lift me cradling me in your arms carrying me to the bedroom. You yell back "Are you coming?" To which Brody replies "I'm right behind you". As you strip off my dress, garter and stockings- only momentarily distracted by the come fuck me heels- you lean over and whisper "Happy Anniversary, I love you my Angel" " I love you more Doug" I respond with a gleam in my eye. Thinking this may be something we repeat every anniversary. ~AAB

[wanderingandconfused-blog]

Ok.

Let me tell you how it happened.

I woke up one Tuesday morning around 6:45 am. I worked at this trendy salad bar place at the time and they had switched my shifts to 8 am to 2 pm--and being the relaxed riser I knew I was--I needed my time to get ready (or at least hit snooze). I had my standard routine: snooze once or twice; shower with my eyes closed; towel dry my hair; throw on my black nike socks, jeans, black company t-shirt, and black flat-brimmed hat with the leaf on it; head downstairs and make breakfast. 

Today was a bit different from normal since my younger sister was in the hospital for mononucleosis, and quite a rough case of it I might add. My mom isn’t the biggest fan of hospitals, and this was the third time in a week she had brought my sister into the ER for fear her tonsils would block her airways. Anyways, the plan was for me to head to work and drop by the hospital afterwards to play cards or something with the bed-ridden sibling. 

It was probably about 7:20 or 7:25 am at this point. My mom was upstairs showering and getting ready to head over to the hospital that morning. My dad was showering and getting ready for work. My older brother and I were downstairs doing the standard “lazy morning” routine--him on the leather recliner, and me scarfing down whatever I had made for breakfast. I remember i was on a bit of a yogurt kick that week from all the parfaits I was eating at work.

While I sat there scraping down the last of the yogurt at the bottom crevices of the container (to which I had added blueberries or strawberries, or some sort of fruit...I can’t remember), my dog kept close to me, hoping for a leftover reward. I paid no attention to her, my elbows perched firmly on massive granite slab of a kitchen island, my gaze directed forward and into the container of yogurt.

My brother laid on the dark brown leather recliner to my left. It was the kind of chair you could sink your entire body into after a long day, or in his case, before a long day. He had his black JanSport backpack laid across his lap, the one he carried everywhere for everything. Even though we all had black JanSport backpacks, every single person in my family could identify his from the signature braided hemp bracelet he kept tied to a zipper on one of the smaller pockets on the back. Unmistakable. It matched his personality with his long dreaded hair, which he frequently put up in a pony tail. I loved that pony-tail. I can’t remember exactly what his hair looked like that morning, but I think it was pulled up and away from his face. His arms were sprawled out above his head, half supporting his head, half simply hanging over the back of the reclined chair. He was a skinny, pasty kid--I can’t remember the last time he had eaten three round meals in a day or worked out, or even saw any sun at all. His arms were about the size of the dead branches you could wiggle off of an old tree, snap off the excess twigs, and make a decent walking stick out of (until you try to put too much weight on it and snap it in two). 

He yawned, took his index and middle fingers to his eyes, and rubbed them in circles before dragging his fingers down the inner corners of his eyes, down the bridge of his nose, and sweeping down the bottom of his cheek, finishing at the corners of his mouth (like he was wiping away any drool that had come about during an accidental morning nap he might’ve taken). He landed the palms of his hands at his temple and, in the middle of a drawn out yawn, vocalized his thoughts. “Man, I don’t feel like going to work today.”

I tried to commiserate and help him look on the bright side.

“Neither do I, but I always feel like that. At the end of the day, I come home and realize it wasn’t so bad. I’ve heard you say it wasn’t so bad after a working day, too.”

He laced his response with an inflection of exhaustion.

“Yeah, but I really don’t feel like going to work today.”

He got up, stretched his arms, yawned, flung his backpack over his shoulder, and went upstairs. I assumed he had gone to check if my dad was ready to drive him to work.

I gave my dog a short glare and shared my thoughts. “No, no, no, you don’t get any people food.” It didn’t deter her spirit of hope. I ignored her and went right back to scraping together the last bits of fruity yogurt at the bottom. It was about 7:30 or 7:35. I would’ve had to leave at some point in the following 10 minutes to get to work on time.

My brother came back downstairs, backpack over his shoulder, and headed out to the backyard. I watched him walk to the left of the patio and disappear from sight, out of the range of any window (of which we had many).

Right at that moment, I had the weirdest feeling. Indescribable. It started in my gut, and made it’s way into my throat. Not wanting to cause a panic, I decided the first move would be to let the dog out. It seemed like an innocuous action. I didn’t want to assume the worst, but I didn’t want to do nothing. After pushing her out the door, watching her trot out of sight to the side of the patio my brother was on, and pausing, I thought the best of the situation. In the back of my mind, I thought everything was going to be fine. 

I even returned to my yogurt at the counter (though it was basically gone) to take my mind off of the negative wandering thoughts that briefly occupied my mind.

My dog wanted back in, so I let her back in.

I poked my head outside to see what mischief my brother was up to this morning, only to see him start walking towards the center of the patio. He’d left his black JanSport backpack with the braided hemp bracelet behind him. 

He kept walking, about 8 feet of patio between us. His arms were stiff to his side as he walked past me, so that I could only see the right side of his body. His right hand was empty. His left hand was not. I seemed like he was trying to hide something from me, like a child trying to casually walk past his mother with an extra twizzler in his far hand, shielded by his own body. Only it wasn’t a twizzler.

I caught the dark black outline of something in his left hand. My heart sunk. He moved with purpose and direction off the patio and out into the small patch of grass we called a yard.

I started walking towards him, analyzing his face. His eyes were aimed toward his destination, determined, but the lower rims were glistening, like a wild animal just before they attack. His forehead had distress written all over it, with his brow furrowed, and sweat beading below his hairline. But I was still giving him the benefit of the doubt.

“Hey, what are you up to?” I tried to say playfully, but with an audible shake in my voice. I had more thoughts in 5 seconds than I did in a normal week.

Maybe he was holding his black airsoft gun?

He made his way across the lawn, walking away from me, so I could only see his back. He switched the black mass from his left hand to his right.

Maybe he was doing a bit of target practice on some birds up in the tree?

“Wait, what are you doing?!” My voice became more frantic as I made my way down the steps into the grass.

It’s not completely unusual for him to do something weird like target practice with an airsoft gun in the morning 10 minutes before work.

He turned towards me, now 10 feet away. 

He’s not doing target practice.

His eyes never met mine. His facial expression never changed. He looked focused, concentrating on the task he’d set out to do, ensuring everything went right the first time.

An airsoft gun couldn’t blow through a skull. Could it? At close range?

“No, WAIT.”

Where would he have even gotten a real gun? 

He raised the barrel to his right temple. My eyes widened. His eyes closed.

“NO, PLEASE. DON’T—”

He fell limp. It felt like an eternity. Like he’d fainted right in front of me in slow motion. I barely registered the pop...

“—NO. FUCK FUCK.”

I fell limp.

I didn’t know what to do. I collapsed to my knees. My head fell into my hands. My eyes couldn’t see straight. My tears blocked any remaining vision. I screamed, or sobbed, or both. I couldn’t make sense of what just happened. I returned to my feet, hands shaking uncontrollably, body following suit. I couldn’t look at him, lying in the grass, limbs haphazardly placed.

Mom, Dad…

I bolted inside, holding back the sudden urge to vomit. “MOM,” I screamed upstairs, “DAD, COME DOWN NOW,” distress, tears, and throbbing pain lacing every word…

Fuck.