#like not to sound corny but i got through some rough shit because of that show akshskl

[sugarverse]

𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙗𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙, 𝙠𝙖𝙩𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙞 <3

word count: 5.4k

mentions of: cheating/being cheated on by now ex bf, smut [18 or older], poc!reader, "I'll make you feel better." non quirk au, aged up to 20(reader) and 22(bkg)!

author note: kinda corny because i haven't written for direct characters in awhile but what can you do, thank you @fizziedoodle for the moodboard to go with this!

Bakugou and you have always been best friends. Your parents would babysit for the bakugo’s and vice versa. Even things like playdates and going out to eat. Since about 5th grade, you had been like family.

Or so he had thought. For a long time he just thought of you as someone who needed to be watched over– someone he needed to take care of. He would stay up late at night during your sleepovers to ‘protect’ you from anything that could be hidden in your closet.. He'd snatch your hand whenever crossing the street, he'd just always been someone he wanted to keep safe. He knew that much after witnessing your first few heartbreaks. But even so, his perspective started to change as you both grew older. He's had girlfriends before, duh. But he could never think of you that way.

Could he?

katsuki lets out a drawn out sigh at his own thoughts, running a hand throughout his hair and tossing the remote onto the small coffee table. he stretched his legs, feeling the blood run back into them as they had began to fall asleep from his lounging.

“tch..” he groaned, scratching at his stomach and headed towards the kitchen. he hit his foot on the ground a few times as the pins and needles went away, letting out an annoyed groan. he got even more frustrated at the sound of an unfamiliar knock, stopping his journey to the kitchen to look over at the door. he let very few people know where he live, and even his most frequent visitor– you, hardly showed up unannounced. he looked over at the kitchen, rolling his eyes and reluctantly walking towards the door. shit like this is what made him a pissy person.

the knock came again, more frantic than the last time. he balled his fits. Who the hell could that be? he thought before opening his mouth to yell, swinging open the door before being forced back by nobody other than.. you?

you.

he quickly looked down at you, rubbing your back instinctively. were you crying??. "Y/n?" he knew that hair from anywhere, the sweet smell of your perfume flooding his nose.  he searched for any wounds, confused on why you were at his house so late in the evening. especially crying. you must have been hurt.. was it your face? rough hands go to tilt your head back, holding your cheeks in his palms to check over you.

your face wasn't damaged, but it didn't matter. you were too busy sobbing and pulling away from his hands to hide your face in his chest. you couldn't help it! you were crying so hard in the car you were sure you'd wreck on the way there! this was the third time in about a week or so you had talked to him about your boyfriend, which wasn't often because you didn't want to shove it into your best friend's face that you were taken. you hated when he'd have a girlfriend and boast about her to you. it made your chest ache and anger seethe through your body. you knew it had been some form of jealousy, all of his attention would be off of you for the few weeks that she'd stick around and it was torture. you'd never want him to feel like that.. however, this week was different! it seemed like you were just continuously arguing with your now ex boyfriend and it made your body ache. so much so, that you had to bring it up more than once to katsuki. like the theory that he was cheating, you could feel that.. distance. you just knew it in your gut. the constant change of behavior, always seemingly hiding his phone.. but even in the end, he tried to paint it out like you were the bad guy. for not knocking on his apartment door while some bitch was laying on your side of the bed. what a fucking. asshole. this was not how you wanted to spend your Friday evening after work. 

bakugo extended an arm to shut the door, keeping the crisp autumn air from entering his warm apartment any more than it already had. "Breathe through y’r damn mouth before ya stop breathing all together. Why the hell are ya cryin? You almost gave me a damn heart attack!" 

he can't remember the last time you'd cried in front of him, let alone cried to him. you always just kept it together and knew what you were doing. you were so independent, so incredibly smart.. you didn't have time to cry about anything. not that he had known about anyway.

he waddled the few steps to the kitchen as planned, letting you lazily drag your feet between his legs and cling to his torso. he slid his arms under yours to set you atop of the counter, attempting to pull away slowly but you obviously weren't having that. "n/n, drink some water." 

you had been crying so much you felt like you'd throw up soon, it was like you needed a big stuffed animal to hug or someone to just tell you it'll all be okay. katsuki was your big stuffed animal. anytime you did come into any kind of mishap, he would always be the best at comforting you. making sure you've eaten a genuine meal when sick, letting you sleep on his very comfortable bed just to get a little bit of rest and alone time from the outside world, helping you study... you sniffled, knowing he'd give you as long as you needed but deciding to still let him go. you screamed at yourself to stop crying, rubbing your eyes with the palms of your hands slowly.

 "Hey. ..drink." you moved a hand away, seeing katsuki hold a bottle a few inches from your face. you took the water from him with a shaky hand and gave it a small sip. you grumble, moving it away from your lips and setting it on the counter to you before his harsh voice spoke up once more.

"I know you aren't dumb, i mean a genuine drink. Not that baby shit." he semi-snatched the bottle up, holding it to your lips once more. he paid you no mind, reaching into the cabinets above you for the hot cheetos he initially wanted. he set the water bottle back down after he knew you had drank a pretty good portion of it, unclipping the chips and leaning against the stove next to you. he watched you shake from your messy breathing, obviously trying to calm down by taking another small drink, holding the bottle to your lips. "What happened. Is it that ugly rat you're with makin you come in here crying??” Here he was, running his mouth again.  you hated that he was right.

you shook your head, wiping your tears once more as they still fell from your eyes. "he didn't even care t..that," you hiccuped, trying to keep your voice steady after another sigh. "he didn't care that I found out.!" you knew you were being a little loud, the voice crack that came afterwards didn’t help. you were so embarrassed, upset, frustrated.. more frustrated than anything other feeling in the world. you continue to explain what happened, “i got off work early, so i stopped by his house so we could get something to eat,” you ramble, looking over to your best friend as you explained walking in on him through angry sobs.

bakugo on the other hand? looked like he had stopped breathing. ruby eyes staring down at your lap before looking you in the eye to remind you he's listening. they had a small twitch to them, a blank expression in the back of his eyes as if in some sort of thought instead.

but you knew that look.. which makes you remember who exactly you're venting to. someone who would kill for you. you knew that, and you'd kill for him. anytime some little boy would mess with you, he was there to fight them off until you were old enough to do it yourself. you knew that guy was an asshole. another reason you didn't want katsuki to see him or hear about him. he always chews you out for dating "lesser than". partially because hes always felt so.. aggravated. that your boyfriends would get so much more time with you than what he did when you were in a relationship, funnily enough. he never placed it to be jealousy, just wanting his friend back. but he was craving it.  he never wanted to seem weird and controlling, his snarky comments were enough to bring you back to your senses.. but all in all, you weren’t his. so what did it matter? you go on and on about needing to ”grow through what you go through”. it's not like you'd listen when he warns anyway.

you shook your head, quieting down to just sniffles and broken whimpers. there was no point in being upset now, It wouldn't change the way your new ex boyfriend thought. or the way that you thought. maybe you just needed to come to terms with it.. that’s what you kept trying to make yourself think anyway. you take a deep breath, kicking your feet out and looking up at the ceiling. "would you mind if I stayed for a few hours? I.. I don't really wanna go home you know..?"  you laugh nervously at your own question, letting your hands smack onto the counter to feel the sting in your palm before looking over at the blond.

he rolled his eyes, letting out a small grumble and wiping a few crumbs off of his shirt. Now wasn’t the time to be pissed. he was trying to mature from semi-blinded rage. It was a time to be there for you. "i guess that means stay the night. I know how you are..” although his tone didn't show it, his sly grin let you know he wouldn't be saying ‘i told you so’ anytime in the near future. good riddance to the bastard anyway. you smiled, watching him calm himself down before helping you off the counter and into the living room. you slide your shoes off at the door, turning to the couch. he had laid the bag of chips on the table to flick through tv channels. after a very short amount of time, he sighed. "Here," he handed you the remote, kicking his feet up onto his coffee table and snatching his chips back up with his clean hand.

you took the remote, sitting slowly and sliding your legs over his lap. you go straight to MAX, your eyes still sore from all the crying. you sniffled, rubbing your eyes some more as you went to your account. you feel him let his hand rest on your knee, rubbing up and down your leg soothingly.

“You want me to order dinner? I haven’t eaten yet..” he watched you switch the television to some common baking show, looking a little annoyed at the host screaming at them through the tv. asifhedoesn’tscreamonthegame

“i don't care, i don't think i can eat anything without getting sick..” you spoke weakly, placing a hand over your stomach. “my whole body is aching right now.." maybe you were hungry? it's hard to tell after feeling so deflated. 

but he knew you needed to eat something. he pulled out his phone, going to doordash and shutting his bag of chips. "We can get Wendy's, McDonald's.. Wherever you want. pizza?" he wasn't one for pizza at the moment, he was kinda sick of it considering that's what kirishima always wanted to eat when they were studying. he was more of a burger and french fries kind of guy at the moment.. but whatever you wanted, he would get it for you. even if it was something small like an ice cream sandwich from the gas station up the street. maybe it'd help you feel better.

"mm.. maybe we can eat wendy's? I like their lemonade and their nuggets." you were trying to get out of the mood you were in, thinking about something small to eat. you shouldn't be giving that guy the time of day, let alone any more tears. "we can drive there, we don't have to doordash. it'll be less expensive that way.." you yawned, sliding your legs off of him slowly.

"All right… ya sure you want to go out? I wouldn't want you to think everybody's staring at ya.. Especially with all this snot-" he teased, pointing to the bleach stains on your shirt that have been there forever. you had originally been in one of your sleep shirts because you were trying to spend the night at your boyfriend's after dinner… ex, boyfriend.

“then i'll just go get one of your shirts.!" you laughed, getting up and walking to his room. You could hear him laughing as you took off your shirt, throwing it into the hamper. You grabbed one of his old t-shirts, putting it on slowly. you sat on the edge of his bed in front of his mirror, staring at yourself. you couldn't believe how red your eyes were.. how disheveled your hair was/felt like it was. It made you feel like you needed to try to look more.. presentable? maybe it'd help you feel better. You tried to fix your hair as much as you could but it slowly started to irritate you, causing you to rub your eyes and grab a black bonnet from “your side” of his apartment. his house had small reminders of you all throughout it from being around so long. you walk back out, sliding on your shoes on. "come on, let's just go."

he rolled his eyes, getting up and turning off the  "If you wanted something to eat you could have just said so when you got here, We didn't have to turn on the TV and all that if we were just going to leave." he put on his shoes, giving you a hard time before resting a hand on your waist. he slid you away from the table, hand lingering a little longer than it needed to but you didn't comment on it. he grabbed his keys, moving to hold the door open for you. 

“I didn't know you were hungry! Shut up!” you laugh, walking out to his cherry red corvette. He spent a lot of time working on and a lot of money to own in general. The feeling of the fall breeze goes right up your spine and to your hair, relieving some tension that rested in the back of your head. a small beep came from the car, unlocking to let you in. it smelled like familiar cologne.. it was comforting. you spoke up once again once he got in, vermillion eyes already staring back at you.

"May as well put your seatbelt onto 'suki, you drive like a mad man..” you roll the window down, letting the air tingle all over your skin as he pulls out of the parking lot.  

“You can’t drive any better, thats why your car is parked and we're in mine.” he responds, pulling into the lot of Wendy's since it had been just up the street. he tried to drive more carefully with you in the car once you said that, noticing how lazy his u-turns were and his carelessness for the yellow light. he grumbled, feeling himself zoning out, fighting with his moral sense of being. You had just gotten out of a breakup, what kind of man would he be to try to hit on someone who's obviously hurting? especially you. It was just too risky to even mention the new feeling. no matter how much better he could make you feel.

The car stopped at the speaker, the faint noise of SZA on the radio being turned down to nothing. still in thought, it takes a gentle hand from you to shake him out of it. “did you hear me ‘suki.? i want a chocolate frosty..” your hand stays on his arm, nails lightly scratching at his soft skin to gain his attention. 

.. you weren't helping. the way you smelled..the lotion you wore causing the car to smell like cocoa butter instead of his Versace. your voice was just something to die for.. the sweetness to your tone, the way you clung onto him whenever you needed something.. it was poison.

he chuckled to himself quietly, staring down at you for a moment before ordering. you look up at him confused, letting it be before being handed all the food. he turned the radio back up before you could even ask, driving back home. 

It felt unusually quiet between you two. normally you could hear the neighbors blasting music or maybe even their TV whenever katsuki’s wasn't on. but this felt different. It was genuinely quiet in Katsuki Bakugou's home.

“..you want to watch TV or something? ‘m tired of hearing you chew.” you said jokingly, breaking the silence. your eyes look over at him, seeing he had already been looking at you. his lips parted like he was about to ask a question. but instead, he grabbed the remote and turned the TV on.

“You chew louder than I do. You probably listenin’ to yourself." he joked, putting on Netflix to have something in the background. he kicks his shoes off, letting them fall at the end of the couch and near the front door before putting his legs back on his coffee table. he ate in his lap, not caring if he made a mess considering he always cleaned up after himself. he looked over at you, seeing you twirl your spoon around instead of actual eating. “Not to be an asshole, but you look exhausted. Dont let that thing get to you so bad.. if you need to lean on me, you can you know.” 

you looked over at him, laughing breathlessly and looking back at your nuggets. “i think my eyes are just puffy from crying so much.. I don't think its really botherin’ me anymore..” you say softly, leaning onto him slowly anyhow. you pop your last nugget into your mouth as you continue to watch TV. he let his left arm wrap around you tightly, rubbing your shoulder to remind you that you were safe. he didn't want you to think that he thought you couldn't take care of yourself. or that you're vulnerable, or that you're a big baby. he wanted you to know that he was here for you. even though he told you so.

he glanced down at you, seeing you enjoy the show just fine. he knew he was just worried about you at this point. he finished his own food, scarfing it down like a teenager before looking at the TV again. it's not like you two haven't cuddled before, you guys were horny teenagers once and used to think about each other very obviously all the time. he shared his first kiss with you one summer at the movies.. its just that the stars just weren't aligned for anything else to happen. It always seemed like one of you had a boyfriend or a girlfriend in the way to get to who you both really wanted.

“Thanks for letting me spend the night suki, I just don't want to be by myself tonight. I think my apartment is just a little too quiet for me right now.. do you think I should confront him? or should I just act like you never existed. I think I left some of my clothes over there, but other than that- should I do anything..?” you asked as he looks down at you. staring at those beautiful brown eyes and the long lashes. your skin was so smooth, he couldn’t help but admire you.

he definitely had a crush on you again, and he couldn't fix it. he knew it was a crush. he just didn't want to believe it. he never wanted to ruin anything between you two. you guys have only gotten into a handful fights the whole time that you've known each other, never been apart for more than a few weeks. nobody knows him like you do, besides maybe his mom. “Are you stupid? Why the hell would you give him the time of day? I'll go over there and grab your stuff with Kirisima. I don't care to walk into the bastard's house. Just stop thinking about him.” he stated the end matter-of-factly.

you look back at him, looking for malice behind what he had said. was he planning on fighting him or was he serious?  “Are you sure, I don't want to make you do anything you don't want to?” there was a pause shared between you both. the air felt still, almost like no one was breathing.

“No, I don't mind." he tried very hard not to lean into you, wanting to be patient with you.. making a move on you would make him low, wouldn’t it? but he could make you feel so much better. especially after everything you've been through. but then he saw you moving up towards him. did you feel what he felt for you?

you knew better than to kiss katsuki, using him as a rebound would be low. you loved him with your entire soul, and yes you've had crushes on him before but that didn't mean he still felt the same way. It had been years since you had ever confessed any kind of romantic feelings to each other. It was a bad idea, but you threw caution to the wind and leaned in for a small kiss as a thank you. 

or you tried, anyway.

everything had moved so quick. he was already getting a grip on your neck, kissing back greedily. But at the same time, he wanted to be gentle with you. he didn't want to break you more than you had already been broken. he knows how bad days can be. you didn't attempt to pull away whatsoever, enjoying his lips against yours. after a minute or so when you two had lost all oxygen, he pulled away from you. “I'm… sorry.? I don't know why I did that?” you look up at him, breathing a bit ragged. 

“Don't be sorry, dumbass. I wanted to kiss you. I’ve wanted to kiss you.” he says with a smirk, leaning closer to you. He smiled as you two looked at each other for a little bit, attempting to catch your breath before going for round two. He pulls you onto his waist with hardly any effort, resting you closer to his belly button than the real deal. He didn't want you to feel how hard he was from your lips alone. 

katsuki always been so pretty to you. of course many people probably thought the same. Clear face, soft blonde hair, those eyes. you knew it was definitely too soon to be rushing anything, but somewhere in your body was almost missing a touch you had never truly had. your hips grind against his abdomen slightly, almost as if trying to hide it. you couldn't tell if it was working because you were too busy feeling him shove his tongue down your throat. 

he gently rubbed your waist, holding it in place after a minute. he pulled away from you slowly, looking down into your pretty brown eyes. “Are you sure that you want to keep going? I don't want you to think I'm some piece of shit trying to take advantage of you.. I really do think you're gorgeous y/n." Which was the truth, he would never want you to think he was some dirtbag. but he's always longed for your touch.. he couldn't help but feel on you. 

you nodded your head yes, kissing down his neck eagerly just to be pulled away again. “I need you to say it for me, that it's okay. Genuinely, y/n.”

you look down at him, sitting up higher so he knew you were serious. “I promise I'm okay, That this is okay.” You kiss his forehead, feeling him pick you up and heading towards his room. He left the living room the way it was, knowing he'd come back to it.. in an hour or two. He turned the corner of his apartment,  opening his door and laying you on his bed gently before beginning to undress himself. You sat up on your elbows, shocked at how quick he was to kiss you. It made you squeal. 

He let his hands rest at your waist, kissing down your neck and down the middle of your shirt. Or, rather, his shirt. He slid it up and off of your body, looking at your eyes just to make sure you didn't have any visible anxiety.  It didn't seem like you did, but he felt his hands start to sweat. He moved his hands to the bed, mumbling something about you looking soft before kissing your chest lightly. Almost as if he couldn't be more gentler with anything else in his life. 

You let out soft moans, hands tangling into his hair as he kissed you all over. As he worshiped you. You could practically feel how much he loved you, and it was weird. It didn't feel like you'd felt this before? Maybe when you were younger? But not anytime recently. It just always felt like he was obligated to be your friend. You'd known each other so long it would be weird to stop being friends.. But this was definitely more than friends. You grin, causing him to scowl up at you.

“I don't wanna hear it.” He mumbled into your skin before kissing near your navel. Could you tell he was nervous? There's no way you could. Could you? He slid his hands behind your back and undo your bra, feeling you sit up in his arms to help him out. 

Letting the bra fall off of your shoulders, you threw it to the side of the bed. Katsuki had no shame in staring, looking like a kid in front of a candy store. He stared up at you, drinking in your soft moans before starting back up near your neck. This time, giving you small hickeys on your collarbone and down your stomach. Anytime you'd squirm or giggle out that it was too much, he'd hold your hips down and make you take it. He wanted you to know how much he loves your body. How much you loved you.

You tried to move your hips once more, fidgeting a bit underneath him. You looked down at his perfecttoyou body, scars from soccer and hockey as a teen and so forth. They were all pretty minor but it's still nonetheless pretty hot. He tugged off your pajamas shorts, hand gripping under your thigh to push your leg to your stomach. He rested your thigh on his muscled shoulder, pushing your legs wider as he grabbed the hem of your underwear.

“Is this okay?” You look up at him and nod quickly, feeling starstruck from all the hickeys he left on you. He slowly takes them off, kissing in between your thighs and slowly opening his eyes just a little bit wider at the sight of all of you. He never imagined what it would look like, He always imagined just being inside of you already. But this? Was beautiful. He kissed on the top of your clit, swirling his tongue against it as he pulled your other leg up. his eyes fluttered at your whines, watching you squirm from his teasing but he just wanted to soak in the way that you looked before doing anything else.

“Are you positive you want this?” He asked, face still soaked from before. It made you giggle, seeing how careful he was with you. Not that you hadn't already noticed, but this was sweet. “I don't have to..” He cleared his throat, nerves obviously still there. “I can just keep eating you out.. Doesn't bother me.” He croaked out, trying to sound like the confident man that he was. But you were really fuckin' him up.

“I'm positive I want you to fuck me, ‘suki..” You breathe out, sitting up as he set your legs off of his shoulders. He stood up slow, trying to hide a smirk as he slid his pajama pants off. He was very obviously turned on, looking a bit uncomfortable a he removed his boxers.

You smile, kissing his happy trail and down to what you really wanted. His cock twitched at your touched, causing him to cover his face and lean into your hand. You slid his length down your throat almost tauntingly, it made his head spin and the only thing he wanted to hold was a fist full of your hair. it made you gag, tugging on his arm as he quickly let go. You pull away, coughing as drool spilled from your lips. 

He snickered at the sight, moving you to lay on your back as he climbed over you. “You're lucky I want this pretty pussy instead..” He moved your legs back to his shoulders, this time to press you in half. He smiled lazily at you, watching how you cried out when he pushed his tip inside of you. He let out a gruttled sigh in relief, bottoming out inside of you.

Your back arched as much as it could into his touch, panting into his ear with jumbled words of ‘more’ and ‘thank you’s. He was a lot bigger than you had assumed, causing your thighs to twitch from how much it was. 

He held your hips, moving your legs closer up his shoulders so he didn't have to hold them for you. He moved back slowly, giving you a few thrusts to get used to the length before moving. “I'll always make you feel better. Not like you need anyone el.. else anyway.” He grumbled out, leaving peppery kisses on your jaw line. You laugh in your head at his words, trying to muffle your moans into his shoulder.

He notices, aimlessly slamming into you. “Nu uh, brat. I wanna hear you, I wanna hear how you take it so good for me,” He leans away from your body, watching your legs shake near his chest as you locked your ankles behind his head. you couldn't stop moaning, whining about him being so far away from you. 

“Just like that. Good girl.. Tell me what you want, baby..” He coaxed, watching your eyes prickle with tears as you ask to cum. “Already?” He chuckles, moving deeper into you. He stared at you in complete awe, rubbing over your clit messily to help you along faster.

“Come on, Make a mess on my damn hand. Tell me how good I'm doing..” He was getting close himself, voice cracking and movements getting sloppier. You whine, body pulling him as close as possible before creaming against his cock. Everything was so sensitive and he was still going. He moved from your clit, bringing the mess on his fingers to your lips.  “Suck.”

you were having a hard time but you did it anyway, managing to bring him to the edge just as quick as you. you could feel heat fill in your stomach, nails scratching at him to grab at what you could as you rode out your highs together. You felt like the room was spinning, feeling him pull out sloppily. He rested your legs back onto the bed, snickering and grabbing the tissue on his bedstand. He left the room a moment, coming back with a rag to wipe you off with.

“S..Sorry, You okay?” He asks, head tilted to the side as he asked with genuine concern. You nod, feeling your body burn as you took the rag and cleaned up.  “You can shower first, I don’t care to wait..” He spoke up again, looking away from you to give you some privacy after previously knocking the mario coins out of you.

a/n: THIS IS SO OLDDDDAHHHH I'm so glad I'm finally done the idea has been sitting for too long. hopefully I executed it right ik the end probably looks rushed 😔

[hecksupremechips]

I watched we baby bears (the first 2 episodes anyways) today and I have mixed feelings. I personally liked the way the bears looked in the original show, the dot eyes were very simple and cute. But baby bears has absolutely AMAZING animation and colors!!! I also love Ice Bears VA being the narrator so much, makes me so happy. And in typical wbb fashion, the bears were so cute and charming! I was so happy guys you don’t GET IT-

But i also have some, not necessarily criticisms, but things I’m not into. Nitpicks. I was never toooooo into a lot of the baby bears episodes in the original show so I didn’t expect to be crazy about the spin off. I think that it’s much more kiddie than the original was, and that makes sense! I’m not about to complain that the kids show is aimed for kids. I’m just acknowledging that yeah, I might be too old for this one. I also have minor gripes with baby bears giving Panda a phone (the original baby episodes seemed to have taken place in the 70s-80s) and the fact that they’re really into cooking (Ice Bear is the only one who cooks). The only inconsistency I’ll allow is Ice Bear being able to talk, since it would probably piss people off if such a beloved character had no lines during the entire spin off series.

Overall it’s very cute and I had fun, but I’m probably not gonna get too into it

[1kook]

viki & hickeys

the 8th installment to netflix & chill :~)

SUMMARY Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air.  WARNINGS a little hurt + a lot of comfort, mentions of cheating!villain!jin, insecure!kook, emotional breakdowns, mentions of jk’s lonely past, jk cries :( smut in the forms of making out, eating out, fingering, clit play, hickeys, jk likes cum, double orgasm, squirting, tiny praise kink, blindfolding, rough + unprotected sex, doggy style, choking!!!, breeding/impreg kink, JEALOUS KOOK, mini hand kink, a lil bit of spanking, degradation, he gets progressively meaner lol oc cries MISC there’s a lot of fuckin plot omfg -_-, it’s Valentine’s Eve!, doyeon makes Some Points, mentions of park seojoon juicy ass, they go on a d8 😳, oc like rlly wants to marry him, oc commits double phone homicide  RATING m (18+) WC 16.3k !!!! ik its fckin LOOOONG

NOTES (!) in true Viki fashion, here’s an nc fic where there’s like 3 different plot lines n a hot male antagonist <3 this series started off as just me wanting to write smut n it still is! now i just like to infuse different levels of angst into it as well </3 as always, lemme know what u think!! i proofread it twice but one of those times had been at 4 am so if u see a typo no u didn't. also here’s a gif  of jungkook crying during a dolly parton performances and here’s another gif of jungkook crying bc it’s scary how pretty he looks

Being evil and hot does not come for free. As you’ve long since learned in the past twenty-three years of your life, you truly can’t have it all. 

There is always some deliberating character flaw the universe must bestow upon you in order to level you out, make you fall onto the same plane as all the other mortals. Everyone has one, no matter how small or insignificant. Doyeon’s is that she doesn’t know how to work a straightening iron. Namjoon's is that he can’t tell the difference between water and liquor. Jungkook, despite all his tech-y nerdiness, doesn’t know how to do his own taxes. And yours? You don’t know shit about romcoms. 

Your knowledge on the romantic genre is what leads to this predicament now, the ring on your finger heavy as Doyeon regards you with what is perhaps the most unimpressed look known to mankind. “This is a promise ring,” she says bluntly, the bustling sounds of the coffee shop around you the soundtrack to your sudden realization. 

“No,” you deny, even though you know she’s right. “It’s an engagement ring.”

Doyeon rolls her eyes. “Babe,” she starts slowly, talks to you like you’re a dorky high schooler with her first boyfriend, “did he ask you to marry him?”

The truth is, the timing had been weird. It had been a few days after you’d rocked Jungkook’s world so you understand if he felt the sudden need to pop the question. But you were also sick as fuck that day, had only vaguely remembered the events because you were too busy with the snot up your nose and the raging fever you were battling. Had Jungkook asked you to marry him? 

You’re not so sure. 

It’s been a little over a month since then, and sure his lack of proactive wedding planning was a little weird, but you had always assumed Jungkook was one of those people who liked long engagements. Liked to drag out the last few months as a bachelor. Maybe he was waiting until you were both financially stable or something, who knows. 

Doyeon had been on some soul-searching journey around the country, so she hadn't been home for a while, had only heard of the ring through a two-second snapchat. This is the first time she’s seeing you and it in person; you can tell by the expression on her face that she’s rightfully disappointed. 

“Have you no shame, woman?” she tuts, arms crossed over her chest. “You have me parading around the world bragging about your engagement— just for this?”

You knock your forehead against the table, know it’s dirty and icky, but you deserve it. “Listen,” you huff. “I’ve only seen The Notebook, like, once.”

She scoffs. “I can tell. This is so embarrassing, don’t tell me you’ve brought it up to him?”

At her words you startle, nearly send the drinks flying across the floor. “No!” you shout, mindlessly reaching to twist the ring around your finger. It’s become a habit these past few weeks, a comfort to feel it around you. Granted, the feeling is a little muted now. “Of course he’d get me a promise ring,” you grumble, gaze flickering down to the silver band on your ring finger. “Jungkook loves all that cheesy corny stuff.” He really did. 

You’ve had enough of Doyeon’s disappointment, decide this coffee date has brought you enough three am anxiety material for the next year and a half. You conclude your date by taking a walk around town, arms locked together as you laugh at people who pass by because you’re both a little mean. 

“Maybe it’s for the best,” she says, and you agree. Well, a promise ring certainly meant something. It was, essentially, a pre-engagement ring. And the engagement ring that followed was a pre-wedding ring. And a wedding ring was, well, a wedding ring. Your heartbeat thunders at the thought. “You’re busy right now anyway,” she points out, snapping you out of your bumbling thoughts. “Aren’t you getting promoted at work soon?” 

Oh, you certainly were getting promoted at work. After many grueling months of hard work and dedication, the fruits of your labor were finally being recognized. Gone were the days of useless desk work, intern-like errands that barely required the use of any higher-order brain functions. You had worked hard these past few months, proved your worth over and over again, until you were here. Getting promoted into a new branch at your company— one where your talents were actually needed. And truth be told, there was one man to thank for that. 

Your friend and superior, Kim Seokjin. 

Seokjin is a great boss. In fact, you could argue he’s the best in the entire world and that, if it wasn’t for him, you would have quit this job that first month you started. But you had him to push you along, friendly smiles and encouragements that kept you going until this point, where you’re being promoted up into a branch where your degree finally matters. And it was all thanks to him! What Kim Namjoon was to Jungkook, Kim Seokjin was to you. 

So what if he cheated on his wife and flirted with the secretaries— Seokjin was practically a god in your eyes. 

And what Seokjin did in his free time was frankly none of your business anyway. You were colleagues at work, got along fairly well, but outside of work you were practically strangers. He was your beloved work colleague, someone Jungkook teased you about endlessly despite never having met him, and you were immensely thankful for him. “Should I be scared he’ll steal you from me?” Jungkook had joked one night, standing behind you as you scrolled through your company profile page. “He is a little handsome.”

You had pinched his side, smiling at his feigned concern when he pressed his lips to your temple. “You’re right,” you had joked back, “he is sooo cool.” And Jungkook had bitten you on the shoulder, laughed that pretty laugh when you yelped in surprise. 

Anyway, Kim Seokjin was a god, Jungkook was on his way to maybe, hopefully, one day, being your husband, and all was well. 

To honor this moment in time, you decide to swing by Jungkook’s place after your date with Doyeon, finding him lazily sprawled across his living room couch while What’s Wrong with Secretary Kim? plays on the Jumbotron. He’s in between projects right now, so he’s spent most of his time relaxing and catching up on all his favorite shows. 

Which brings you back to that deliberating character flaw of yours: no knowledge of the romantic genre to utilize in your everyday life. Your love language has always been blunt words, teasing jabs, the raw and unfiltered type of love. Emotions? Impossible to figure out. You’ve gotten pretty far in life reading verbal and physical cues; with Jungkook, you always know he’s upset when he does the little tongue-against-cheek thing, and it has saved you from many potential arguments. 

On the other hand, it is so obvious what Jungkook’s love language is when he spends fifty percent of his time on Viki, home to some of the most cheesy kdramas in existence. Most guys spend their weekends watching sports or dramatic action movies, but here was Jungkook. Watching some guy try to court his secretary. 

(Okay, he does watch sports and action movies too, but that’s not the point!)

“Hello, sweet boy,” you greet, plopping down beside him. Jungkook smiles back softly. He’s serving absolute pre-pre-husband deliciousness right now, cute glasses, fluffy curls, plaid bottoms that make him look so comfy. God, you were going to suck his dick tonight. 

Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, tastes like the chocolate cake you specifically told him not to eat without you. He blindsides you before you can scold him, pulls you onto his lap where the swell of his cock nudges against your thigh. Oh, you were definitely going to suck his dick and ride him well into the sunrise. 

“What’s my pretty girl doing here tonight?” he asks, cutely looping his fingers through yours. “Thought you were with the Wicked Witch of the West today?”

You roll your eyes, reposition yourself in a laughable attempt at pretending like you’re actually interested in the show. “We just went out for lunch,” you explain, watching the hot lead saunter across the screen. Juicy ass, but nothing compared to Jungkook’s. 

There’s a question lingering on the tip of your tongue, Doyeon’s explanations mixed with your worries, and you hold it for exactly ten seconds before you’re turning to face him head on, eyes going a little crossed from how close he is. “Hey,” you say bluntly. “Is this a promise ring?” you ask, wiggle your finger in his face. 

Jungkook blinks, once, twice, and then his face shoots up in flames. “Maybe,” he mumbles, lips pursed as he tries to avoid your gaze. He was adorable. You laugh, endeared by the red flush that crawls over his cute little cheeks and up his ears. Unable to stop yourself, you squeeze said cheeks between your hands, cooing at the annoyed expression that consumes him soon afterwards.  

“Aw, you want to marry me,” you tease, but it’s secretly a leading question for him to confess that yes, he does want to marry you. For as hot and confident as you are, you too are plagued with doubts. Doubts that can only be smoothed over by hearing it straight from Jungkook’s mouth. 

He rolls his eyes, trying to break free from your hold. “We’ve talked about this,” he murmurs, all embarrassed. But like always, Jungkook knows exactly what you want so he doesn’t deny it, and that’s good enough for you. He’s too flustered to look you in the eye now, childishly craning his head away from you when you try to force him into a staring contest. “Can I finish my show?” he whines, slightly not as hard now that you’ve reduced him into a shy, bumbling mess. It was a nice change of pace from his usual, composed self. 

But you relent, sliding off his lap to sit against his side, classic octopus hug around his waist. The episode is in full swing, not that you know anything about it. Like you said, romantic shows and movies were the least of your concerns. Jungkook, however, eats this type of shit up. “He still trying to fuck her?” you ask, not the least bit interested, but if you’re planning on sucking his dick tonight you have to listen to a few minutes of him rambling first. 

Jungkook sighs. “Yeah,” he says, “I don’t get it.” You hum, trail your hand over his abdomen teasingly. He feels so warm and lean beneath your palm, you were getting hot just thinking about it. “Why would anyone agree to dating their boss?”

You know that Jungkook’s boss is some old Facebook fart, pioneer of something on the site that neither of you two care about. So it makes sense that such a notion disturbs him. You shrug anyway. “Everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss,” you offer. “It’s like, the power dynamic, I guess.”

His frown deepens. “Would you?” Your boss isn’t exactly an old fart; the reason Kim Seokjin was such a renowned playboy is because, well, he had the looks to pull it off. Still, he had become a sort of respectable figure to you and the idea of sleeping with him doesn’t really sound appealing as much as it would to any other random bachelorette, which you admittedly were not. You glance at the screen, where Park Seojoon swaggers around in those tight slacks and fitted button-ups. 

“Hm,” you ponder, “maybe.” 

Jungkook laughs. “You’re supposed to say no, you idiot,” he says, knocks his forehead against yours softly. You can’t help but chuckle too, enamored with the happy glint in his eyes and the way his smile eats up his features. 

Oh, you loved this man. 

Because he was so sweet and good on Christmas, you let Jungkook make the plans for Valentine’s Day. After all, it’s his favorite holiday (“Why? Well, because it’s a day all about you, and me, and us,” he had sighed dreamily in the bathtub one night, hair adorably pushed back to showcase that handsome face of his. Bubbles clung to his chest, had made you dizzy with every breath he took.), so it’s only right that he gets to make the itinerary for the day, fill it with all his favorite things. After all, cheesy romantic stuff like this was right up his lane. 

He reserves a spot at the fanciest restaurant in the city, the one that has a months long waiting list. It sounds perfect, and the closer it gets to February 13th, the more excited you become. You say 13th because the 14th is a Sunday, and as much as you would love to get on your knees and praise Jungkook’s body until the wee hours of the next day, you have work. So Sunday is off the table. And it’s better this way, you tell yourself. Everywhere would have been packed that day anyway. 

It seems like everywhere you go, the entire world is gearing up for the holiday; from the fast food drive-thru to your favorite lingerie shop, there’s Valentine’s Day specials everywhere you look. Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air. 

But what good is a lovey-dovey holiday without your own lovey dove himself? 

One glance out your window and your knees feel weak, because there he is. Dressed in a loose satin button up, shoulders broad, chest defined. He’s got on these fitted dress pants that accentuate his tiny waist too, thick thighs bulging beneath the fabric. There’s a coat hugging his frame, something to shield him from the cold while he waits out on the curb, does this cute little shivering dance in an attempt to warm up his muscles. Your heart feels like it’ll explode at the sight, and you can practically hear the corny, overused romantic song playing in the background of your thoughts, so you hurriedly distract yourself by slipping tonight’s dress on. 

It’s cold outside, but the sight of Jungkook makes you feel warm and fuzzy everywhere. He’s so hot it makes you dizzy, and the sap knows it when he meets you on the sidewalk. Instinctively, his hand reaches out to tangle with yours, the other slipping around your waist. “Hi, gorgeous,” he greets playfully, kissing your knuckles. His hair has grown out a little, curls up cutely when he lets it air dry and tickles your skin when he gets too close. “Lookin’ like Secretary Kim.” 

“Oh? So does that make you my hot boss?” you tease as you make your way to the car. 

As always, he opens the door for you first, flashes you this dorky little wink as he rounds the front of the car. “If it means you’ll sleep with me tonight, then sure,” he says, buckling himself in. You roll your eyes at his claim. You don’t get to see the proud little smile on his face; by the time you’ve composed yourself, he’s already pulling off in the direction of the restaurant. 

It’s a classy thing, a restaurant and bar in some insanely tall skyscraper. Of course your seats are right beside one of the huge floor to ceiling windows, overlooking the beautiful, glittering cityscape. “Fancy,” you murmur as you sit down, catching a glimpse of the eye roll Jungkook gives you. 

“You say that about any place that serves wine,” he chuckles, reaching for the bottle on the table to pour you a glass. 

The wine tastes like perfection, aged for the perfect amount of time. Whatever that was. You don’t really know, but it tastes amazing! Still, amazement aside, you manage a scoff. “I didn’t say that about your house on our first date,” you huff anyway, throwing him a playful glare over the rim of your glass. 

Jungkook laughs, full and real this time. It’s a little too loud for the classy establishment you find yourselves in, drowns out the jazz music for a second. “That’s because it was a house,” he says, wearing that big, shiny smile you adore, “and we were watching Transformers.” An amazing date, the mere memory of it makes your toes curl. He had been so dreamy— nearly two years ago now! —and had retained that aura up to the present day. You don’t think you’ve ever been so in love with anyone or anything in this world before, as cheesy as it was to admit. 

As if sensing your sudden wandering thoughts, Jungkook nudges your ankle under the table. “Hey,” he says so softly you could melt; his voice was so silky and sweet. “Everything okay?” he asks. 

A sigh, chin in your palm. You had to have been abducted by aliens or something— there was no way this was your life, this disgustingly romantic date with this disgustingly handsome man. An episode of Black Mirror maybe? One where you get forced to live in a romantic Viki drama with the man you love, every single day for the rest of your life? Maybe. 

Dramatics aside, you could practically feel that sticky sweet, sentimental monster begging to crawl to the surface, unleash the entire Shakespearean collection of lovesick sonnets on your unsuspecting boyfriend in the middle of this restaurant. But the weird ones, were you accidentally dedicate an entire six lines to the bulge of Jungkook’s thighs in his workout pants or the heart-shaped mole on his shoulder. Those kind. Before that can happen, you settle on an equally as gentle, “I love you,” murmured for only him to hear. 

Across the table, Jungkook smiles. One of those thin ones when he’s trying to keep his composure but is actually quite flustered, his subtle bunny teeth nibbling at his lower lip. “Thanks,” he responds, still trying to play it cool, but then he almost knocks his glass down and you’re reminded just how perfect he was, flaws and all. “Me too.”

You jab the pointed tip of your stiletto against his shin. “Say it back,” you warn and he laughs. 

“I love you,” Jungkook says like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Straight out of a romantic drama, like the ones on Viki that require a minimum of four different story arcs just to get to this point. But with Jungkook, it takes a few shy smiles and maybe a kiss. It has a scorching heat rising on your cheeks, one you ward away with a hurried sip of your drink while Jungkook reaches for your hand, thumb rubbing over your promise ring as if for good luck. 

That singular phrase makes your world pause, its axis stalling while you deal with the overwhelmingly soft and gooey feelings in your chest. Oh jeez, you had to rock his world tonight. It was only right. He deserved it for making you feel like this— this silly and ditzy, like a middle schooler with her crush. 

Anyway the food gets to your table after a millennia. Jungkook orders some fancy lobster dish, one that you're pretty sure costs more than the purse you brought along tonight (to be fair, you’re a cheap buyer), and still has the audacity to poke around at your plate too. He eats enough to feed a schoolhouse full of children who’ve just come off recess, practically devouring the table cloth before you stop him. And then he doesn’t let you see the bill; “baby, don’t worry about that when you’re with me,” he purrs, warm breath fanning against the skin on your neck, drunk off pure love and strawberry lemonade because he was driving tonight. The hostess is a blushing mess, fumbling for his change as Jungkook practically gropes your ass in plain sight.

You swear he’s spending too much time on that Viki streaming service, because then, as if the romantic dinner date wasn’t enough, he whisks you off to an even more romantic walk along the river. 

If there was ever a world record for “Number of Times you can Make your Girlfriend Swoon,” you’re positive Jungkook had broken it in the span of a few hours. You feel so light-headed and in love by the time you reach the river. 

“You know,” you tell him as you walk, the serene sounds of the flowing water beside you the soundtrack to your date. Jungkook swings your joined hands between the two of you. It’s chilly but you’re so full and happy that you don’t let it bother you. “I was gonna throw wine at you when we first met.”

He cackles, that loud, airy sound again that he only lets you hear, with his head thrown back. “What?” he gasps, smiley and pretty, your pretty boy. “And why were you going to do that?”

You huff, feeling slightly embarrassed now to admit such a thing. But aside from Doyeon, no one else has ever heard this classified tale. And well, you’re feeling extra emotional tonight. An abundance of emotions in one night usually ended with you crying like a little bitch at some point or another, so you’re trying to push that off for later. “Because,” you sigh, squeezing his fingers, your lone promise ring versus his assortment of fashionable rings. “You sounded like an absolute fuck boy when you first texted me!” 

Jungkook scoffs, playfully scandalized. “Me?” he squawks, pausing to stand in front of you with wide eyes and a ridiculously huge smile, the kind that has his brows raised high, lips going thin, practically displaying every tooth in his mouth from how wide it is. 

“Jungkook,” you say calmly, shoving one finger against his chest. “You asked me to Netflix & chill for our first date.” 

He groans, using your entwined hands to pull you into his arms for a suffocating hug. “I already told you,” he laughs, patting the back of your head while you get in a few lighthearted punches against his sides. “I didn’t know what it meant.” 

“Whatever, you sleaze,” you say anyway, eventually melting into his hands. “Bet you tell all the girls that.” Jungkook makes another scandalized noise, but settles when you wrap your hands around him. He smells so good and familiar, comforting even. Like home and safety, a refuge for your heart. When you’re this close, you can hear the light beating of it beneath your ear, a steady rhythm that has you closing your eyes when he begins humming your favorite song. 

He gets about two verses in when your phone suddenly goes off. 

Everything in your body says to ignore it, to continue basking in the comfort of your boyfriend’s embrace and this absolutely perfect moment. But it’s the stupid ringtone you set for all your work peers when you first loaded the entire company contact list onto your phone, so the sound alone lets you know it’s a work-related call. And for work to be calling you on a weekend was definitely not a good sign. 

“Give me a sec,” you tell Jungkook, pulling away from his arms. He frowns but lets you go, staying close as you dig through your purse for the offending device. 

It’s Kim Seokjin calling at this peculiar hour, a fact that confuses the hell out of you. Jungkook’s bouncing on his heels in an attempt to fight off the chill, giving you his beautiful side profile as he glances down the winding sidewalk that follows the river, and then at his watch. His nose is a cute red color that you want to kiss so bad. But work calls, so you tighten up and let that dream go for now. You swipe your thumb across the screen. 

“Hello, Mr. Kim,” you greet, trying to keep the confusion out of your voice. “How can I help—“

“__, my love,” he beams through the phone, so fucking loud it has Jungkook glancing over curiously. You give him a tight-lipped smile, one he returns as he shuffles closer, trying to steal your warmth like a penguin. You let him snuggle close before turning back to the droning voice of your superior on the line. 

“Hello,” you repeat again, slowly. Jungkook takes your free hand in his; when he squeezes, the band of your promise ring digs into your skin just the slightest. “Was something the matter?” 

Seokjin laughs, loud and clear. There’s a lot of other noises filtering in through his line. Briefly, you remember that there had been some work-related party for the higher ups tonight so you write it off as that. “Does there need to be a problem for me to call you, love?” 

You falter. Beside you, Jungkook’s brows furrow together, his devilishly handsome features even more pronounced. He’s obviously heard the other man on the line. “Um,” you flounder for a second, “well, usually yes.” 

Without missing a beat, Seokjin carries on with a playful tut that you’re almost certain has him lifting the receiver up to his mouth, because it’s so goddamn loud it has you flinching away from your own device. “My __,” he says, sweet and… slurred? 

He’s never used this tone of voice on you, only on other women at the office. Something about his broken marriage and needing to heal a wound, you don’t fucking know. You can’t even begin to truly understand that logic, which is why you’ve always just ignored it. Still, in the last few months of knowing Seokjin, he has never made a pass at you. Until now, that is. And until now, you had kind of convinced yourself he saw you in a sisterly way. Which sure, was worse than being friendzoned. But this was your boss you were talking about. Whether you got sister-zoned or not by him was the least of your concerns. So what was going on? What had changed over the span of a few days that had him suddenly reaching out to you on a weekend? 

Beside you, Jungkook doesn’t look the slightest bit impressed, tongue prodding against his cheek as Seokjin rambles on the line. You wish you had lowered the volume before answering, but doing so now would appear suspicious, even you could admit that. “You’re amazing, you know that?” Seokjin praises. You nod, remember he can’t see you, and settle on a blunt thanks instead. Jin laughs. “You’re different from the rest,” he hums, voice soft and weirdly intimate. 

Jungkook’s frown deepens. “What does he want?” he murmurs, somehow managing to keep his voice calm as always. The deep furrow of his brows and the tongue-against-cheek motion he had done just a few seconds ago all indicate he’s annoyed, that much you can tell. 

You shrug, eyes wide as you hurry to get to the reason for the phone call. You’re almost certain it’s just Seokjin being drunk— many people drunkenly dial their friends and family to tell them how much they’re appreciated, this wasn’t anything weird! 

Is what you try to convince yourself, but then Seokjin’s voice is dropping an octave by your ear. “Did you get my gift?” he murmurs, voice nearly drowned out by the sounds of the event he’s at. 

“Huh?” you stammer, quite stupidly if you do say so yourself. Jungkook shifts closer, obviously trying to hear. A breeze ruffles his hair, his cologne wafting over you. “What?” 

A sigh over the line. “My gift, love,” Kim Seokjin says, loud and proud. Jungkook exhales, hard. “I had it sent to your house this evening. Something pretty for a pretty girl— don’t tell me the postman fucked that up,” he jokes and Jungkook huffs, practically breathing fire through his nose when he hears the words. 

You fidget. There had been no gift when Jungkook picked you up around sunset, not like you had expected anything to begin with. And aside from Jungkook and maybe your parents, there was no one else on this planet you wanted to receive a Valentine’s Day gift from anyway, especially not from your boss of all people. “Um,” you mumble, acutely aware of the way Jungkook’s face is nearly pressed to yours now in his effort to listen in on your phone call. “I— um, haven’t been home, Seokjin.”

Jungkook scoffs, spits out a particularly unimpressed, “Seokjin?” 

Said man doesn’t hear. “Oh, of course,” he says, almost sullenly. “I forgot you had that little boyfriend to entertain tonight.” 

It’s the breaking point for Jungkook, who leans back to glare at the phone with the heat of a thousand suns. You press it against your chest before he can hear anything else. “I’m sorry,” you rush out in a hurried whisper, eyes flickering over his face, trying to gauge the intensity of his emotions. “I think he’s drunk— he’s never said things to me like this before,” you stammer, feeling like you have to defend yourself for some reason. “I’ll- I’ll take care of it, okay?” No answer, just an aggravated shake of his head, like he’s trying to calm himself down. “Jungkook?” you say, can feel the panic begin to lace your voice when his eyes flutter shut. 

He calms your worries with a gentle head butt that has you gasping in surprise, one hard exhale fanning over you. “Okay,” he says, teeth clenched. “I’m gonna go sit.” And then he stiffly walks over to one of the many benches lining the pathway. He sits, just like he had said he would, and glares down at his hands instead. 

The sight makes you anxious, unsure of how to diffuse the situation because, like you’ve said many times before, dealing with emotions— especially someone else’s emotions —was hard. Your eyes refuse to leave his figure as you draw the phone back up to your ear again. “Hello?” you call, voice trembling when Jungkook finally looks your way. The soft look he had given you all night is nowhere to be found, replaced with this rather unreadable expression. Something between annoyance and confusion if you had to guess. You don’t know, and the fact you don’t know makes you panic. Your chest feels tight when Seokjin begins speaking again. 

“You know,” he says, “you’re quite something, __. Strong, confident. Beautiful.” Had you been anyone else, you might have been flattered by Kim Seokjin’s remarks, maybe would have swooned. He was, objectively speaking, a handsome man with a hefty bank account. 

But if that was the criteria for a man to make you swoon, then the man on the bench in front of you checked all the same boxes three times over. The man who’s brows draw closer and closer together the longer you linger on the phone. Jungkook’s foot does one agonizing tap against the concrete and you find yourself stammering into the phone. “I think you’re drunk, Jin.”

A scoff. “I am,” he agrees, and doesn't even bother to hide it. “But you remind me of her, you know that? I like that.”

It’s like he knows something is going on on the line, because Jungkook visibly bristles when you sidestep in surprise. What was going on, your brain screams. Having your superior compare you to his infidel wife was definitely not something you saw coming tonight. “Uh, okay?” you say, “listen, Seokjin— Mr. Kim, I’m... I have a boyfriend. And I really lov—“

He cuts you off. Jungkook bristles at the sudden stop of your sentence. “Yeah, yeah,” Seokjin drawls, and you can feel the sheer terror of accidentally jeopardizing your relationship with Jungkook step aside for the briefest moment to allow some annoyance to seep through. Annoyed with Seokjin and his audacity, his tone, his voice. “Mrs. Kim used to say that about me,” he chuckles humorlessly, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” A long pause. You’re unsure of how to respond. “It’s not real,” Seokjin says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world. “Love, that is.”

You clench your jaw, gathering your thoughts to respond when Seokjin beats you to it. “But you know what, love?” You don’t respond. Seokjin pushes on anyway. “Someone’s gonna cheat sooner or later— why not beat him to it?” 

Your body reacts first, a startled gasp inhaled through your lips at his disrespectful preposition. Your phone slips out of your grasp. It bounces twice, lands on the ledge that gives way to the river, and you almost kick it in when Jungkook comes up behind you. “Hey, hey,” he says sternly, tugging you away from the phone you almost killed. “What’s wrong— what did he say?”

You exhale, face warm from the discomfort sitting heavy in your chest. “Nothing,” you huff, mind slightly foggy as you try to process that awkward conversation. “It’s— it was stupid,” you spit, pressing the heels of your palms against your temples, the raging anger and confusion making your head pound now. 

You had always known Kim Seokjin wasn’t the most faithful man, that the infidelity ran both ways in his relationship. But you had never imagined he would ever compare you to her, his cheating wife, in an attempt to win you over. Furthermore, you’re downright disturbed by the fact he would even try to hit on you after all the mentoring he’d given you, all the polite smiles he’d flashed you, all the praise you had bestowed upon him to Jungkook. 

Jungkook, whose jaw twitches as his hands graze your forearms. When you look at him again, you feel an immense wave of remorse wash over you at the way his own irritation is clouded by his worry for you. He had been wronged as well— disrespected just like you —but here he was, pushing his own emotions aside for your sake. He doesn’t want to see you upset. He was so good at dealing with your emotions, knew just what to do when things became too much. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, lips pursed together. “I don’t know why— he’s never— I wouldn’t do that,” you settle on, voice wobbling when Jungkook’s jaw clenches. “Jungkook,” you frown, reaching for his hands, “I wouldn’t—“ 

He shushes you with another one of those gentle forehead bumps. “Calm down,” he says, voice deeper than usual. “I know you wouldn’t.” 

Weirdly, it feels like you’ve committed a grave sin against your boyfriend. A crime. “I’m sorry,” you blubber anyway, heart thundering in your chest. “That was horrible,” you huff, desperately blinking away the stinging sensation behind your eyes. “You didn’t deserve to hear that.”

“Don’t cry,” Jungkook says, so soft and comforting; stable. You want his composure, his ability to process and understand things so quickly— his maturity. Sure he had been put off by Seokjin, but he had processed it all so quickly; adapted to the situation and stepped in to save you. Meanwhile, you nearly committed cellular murder because you couldn’t handle yourself. “He’s a weirdo,” he says, for both your sakes. “You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart.” 

Still, you sniffle. “I’m sorry,” you say again, the heavy feeling in your chest lightening just a little bit when he pulls you into his arms. 

“Crybaby,” he teases softly, a kiss on the crown of your head. You pinch his side. “Second phone you broke in a year.”

The mood for the riverwalk is off after that, and you only walk a few more meters before Jungkook decides it’s enough. “We can still enjoy ourselves at home,” he reassures you, and the way he tries to salvage that soft, fuzzy feeling from before is admirable. So Jungkook takes you home, holds your hand the whole drive back to your place, like he knows you’re still fragile from that extremely uncomfortable interaction, need him to hold you together. Jungkook’s emotional stability guards you like a shield, covers you in a wave of comfort as you calm down. You tell him about Seokjin’s preposition and he bristles. “Prick,” he murmurs beneath his breath, grip tightening just the tiniest bit. Your ring pinches against your skin a little painfully, but you say nothing. 

There’s a box of flowers on your doorstep when you arrive, one that makes Jungkook pause at the sight. “Wonderful,” he drones, picking it up for you as you unlock the front door. It gets left on the coffee table, practically mocking the two of you as you remove your shoes and coats. “That’s your favorite flower,” Jungkook notes. 

You glance at the expensive bouquet. “It is.” 

Jungkook drops down onto your couch, eyes flickering to the meticulous arrangement in front of him. “You told him?” Not really. But back when you had thought Jungkook and you were engaged (read: last week), you had spent days looking at different floral shops that specialized in this flower, frequently leaving the tab open on your work computer. Seokjin must have seen it then. At your extended silence, Jungkook says, “nice.”

You frown, setting your heels on the shoe rack. “Baby, I didn’t,” you tell him softly, reaching for the zip on the back of your dress. It comes down, and after clearing your hips, it falls to the floor in a dark heap you pick up quickly. It leaves you scantily clad in a black lingerie set. Meanwhile, Jungkook drops his head back, glaring at your ceiling. Tentatively, you step over to him, toying with the fabric of your dress in your hands. “You said it was okay.”

“I know,” he sighs, an unexpected confession from him that makes you pause. Despite all you’ve been through, he still rarely highlighted situations that upset him. “It’s just,” he says, turning his head to look at your form again, eyes not drinking you in like you hoped he would. “It’s scary.”

The couch cushion dips beneath your weight when you settle beside him. “What is?”

Jungkook shrugs, avoiding your question by reaching for the TV remote on the coffee table, right beside the box of flowers Seokjin had sent. He opens up the Viki app in a flash— the one linked to his account —and has even loaded up the next episode of Secretary Kim when you question him again. “What’s scary, Jungkook?” you repeat. 

On screen, there’s a beautiful scene on a bridge, the two leads happily conversing. It’s serene, something neither you nor Jungkook feel at the moment. 

Eventually, he says, “you could leave.”

You pause. “What do you mean?” Leave? Where on earth would you leave to when this was your home? He doesn’t meet your gaze. 

Another scene passes by on screen, some cheesy line and an even cheesier promise. Jungkook’s foot taps against the floor, the sound dull against the plush rug beneath you. It’s a nervous tick you’ve only seen him do at the height of truly stressful situations. Weird because just half an hour before you had dubbed him as the epitome of calm and collected at the river. 

“I thought he was cool before.” 

He did. But the word ‘cool’ didn’t always have the same meaning for Jungkook as it did for you. 

In the past, Jungkook had frequently joked about having to meet Kim Seokjin and thank him for all the help he’s given you at work. After all, up until now, you had only ever had good things to say about the man, raving about his cool demeanor and respectable work ethics. Now, the memories paired with the conversation from earlier leave a bad taste in your mouth. 

You’re a little confused with Jungkook right now; part of you had convinced yourself that whatever happened on the phone earlier with Seokjin was put behind you, marked off as an anomaly in the evening. After all, Jungkook himself had said it was okay. Park Seojoon appears on screen, and you can’t help but glare at the character, residue emotions from the river pushed off onto this innocent actor. 

Still, Jungkook surprises you. “It’s just that—“ he sighs. And then, “what if you leave?” 

You blink, eyes trained on his side profile and the way he’s nervously chewing through his bottom lip until it tints a red shade, gives way to sensitive skin when he bites too hard. “Why would I leave?” 

He says nothing. On screen, Park Seojoon says something so cheesy and romantic that it would have otherwise made you cringe, made Jungkook soft. But he’s stiff as a board beside you instead. You almost think he’s going to disregard the entire conversation when he finally speaks again. “Well.” You perk up at the sound of his voice, overly aware of the way he’s started picking at the skin around his thumb again, another nasty habit you’ve been trying to help him get over. “He’s cool. Rich.”

“And so are you,” you offer, covering his hand with your own. 

Jungkook ignores you, releasing a long, shaky exhale. Somehow, he’s exuding a similar energy as before; discontentment mixed with understanding. Like he’s greatly conflicted but forcing himself to remain calm. Another trembling inhale, and then Jungkook quietly recites, “everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss.” 

You recoil just the slightest, brows pinched together at the absurd conclusion he’s drawn. “Baby, that was just a silly conversation,” you say slowly, slipping your hand into his. He squeezes so tight you’re afraid he’ll break your bones. “And we were joking—“

“I know!” he exclaims, enveloping your significantly smaller hand in both of his before bringing them up to his face, lips pressed against your knuckles. It’s not a kiss, more so a desperate need to feel you against him. Eyes wide, you can’t do anything but watch as that collected exterior slips away, revealing a whirlwind mess of emotions. It’s a rather unexpected show from Jungkook. “It was a joke. We were joking. But I’m—“ his jaw clenches. His voice is so tiny when he speaks again. “I get scared sometimes, __.” 

His emotional outburst renders you speechless, watching as he squeezes his eyes shut, jaw clenching, hands trembling. 

It’s a stark image change from the cool Jungkook that had comforted you at the river, had patted the back of your head when you had been so distraught. His chest heaves for air and you don’t know what to do; it’s always the other way around, him comforting you, that when it comes down to this you find yourself at a loss. It makes you feel like you don’t know enough about yourself or him or your relationship in general to help him, always so lost when things like this happen. 

Jungkook has never been good at expressing negative emotions, always preferring to bottle them up and only show you his very best side. Granted, he’s been getting better at letting go lately, has whispered his doubts to you in the dead of night after a particularly grueling project, an uncomfortable social meeting. But he always waits until you’re half asleep and in the dark to tell you how he feels, hushed worries that you barely remember the next morning. And by then, Jungkook’s moved on from them anyway, flashes you a pretty smile and purposefully guides you away from that conversation. You know he’s started keeping a journal recently, but aside from seeing the blanks pages when he’d first gotten, you don’t have a clue what happened afterwards. It’s probably hidden away somewhere, his feelings locked up in a cupboard or a box, the secrets it holds never to be spoken of aloud. 

He doesn’t like talking about his more personal problems, hoards them until you’re forced to intervene. Find him slumped over at his dining table with bags under his eyes, the skin on his lower lip bitten beyond belief. 

Rarely does he sit down and express himself like this, lays his heart out carefully for you to see. Had he not said so right now, you would have never known Jungkook struggled with such doubts about you and your relationship. 

(It makes your heart ache at the realization.) 

Jungkook always acts like everything is okay, always forces himself to hold it together for the sake of you and, quite frankly, everyone else. He’s there when Taehyung breaks up with his girlfriends, pats him on the back and lets him run through every video game he has on his PS5. He’s there for Namjoon when his thesis becomes too much, proofreads it even though he doesn’t understand a word just for the sake of giving his best friend another perspective. Hell, he had even been there for Doyeon when her new landlord had tried to overcharge her, had carried the bulk of your argument when you ran off to try and fight with the old man. 

(“He’s too nice sometimes,” she had murmured the next morning at her place. After the shouting match the night before, you had crashed with Doyeon on her new bed, your sweet boyfriend taking up her couch. Somehow, you and Jungkook had managed to knock a clean seventy-five bucks off her monthly bill. It wasn’t much, but for an apartment in the city it sure felt like a lot. 

You had hummed, patting the top of his head on the way to the kitchen. “He’s a good boy,” you had said, heart thrumming when he instinctively pushed closer to your hand, nuzzling into you even in his sleep. “He cares about everyone a lot. Worries to death about his friends.”

The state of their relationship was weird; they were always fighting about one thing or another, ‘eternal enemies’ as Doyeon liked to claim. 

But for the first time, she hadn’t denied they were, in fact, friends. Instead, she had quietly stood at the breakfast nook overlooking the living room with a somber look on her face that was completely unlike the Doyeon you knew. She didn’t respond with her usual backhanded compliments, didn’t even call him a gremlin either. 

“He even worries about you, Miss Wicked Witch of the West,” you had teased, reaching over to pull Jungkook’s shirt down where it had ridden up, exposing his cute belly button to the cold apartment. She had sipped at her mug of coffee, eyes foggy and distant. “It just takes him a while.” 

“He’s always cared about you though,” she had murmured then, and you had marked it off as her being half asleep. But Doyeon had given you this look, a look so profoundly wise, as if she was saying, “more than you’ll ever know.”) 

Most importantly, Jungkook is always there for you. He holds you in his arms, strokes your back comfortingly whenever something goes wrong. Listens to your concerns and offers you advice, learns new things for the sole purpose of helping you out. Lets you make stupid decisions and always saves you at the last minute. And you want to repay him for all that, want to look after Jungkook like he does for everyone else. But it’s hard, it’s so fucking hard, when he doesn’t let you in, when he holds his emotions at bay for the sake of protecting yours. When you don’t even know where to start sometimes. 

The beating of your heart is accompanied by a dramatic orchestral ensemble on screen, violins and flutes as the two lovers reconcile some issue with a kiss. Beside you, your own lover is one second away from falling apart. “Hey,” you say quietly, slipping your hand out of his to hesitantly place on his back instead. With your release, Jungkook uses his empty hands to drag over his face, hide himself from you. “I’m not going to leave you, Jungkook,” you try and comfort, “I love you.” 

He shakes his head, dark locks bouncing around. “I know, I know,” he sighs, but it doesn’t sound like he believes you. It sounds like he’s forcing himself into composure again, jaw flexing as he shakes his head. “But— what if—” another aggravated huff, his thighs jumping anxiously. “You’ll get bored.” Not a question, but a statement. 

“Of you?” you ask anyway. He nods. “I won’t.”

He sits up so suddenly you have to move away to avoid bumping into him. “You will,” he urges, finally looking at you, distress painted over every inch of his face. “That guy, that Seokjin, he sounds more interesting than me. He sounds cool and put together, like the world is his oyster and,” he rubs the heels of his hands against his eyes. “You talk about him sometimes and... and you call him a god, __,” he stresses, doesn’t leave room for you to object. “And I know you’re joking, but—“ a sharp inhale, and then, quietly, “everyone gets bored of me, __.” 

Your frown deepens. “But I won’t,” you argue, confident in your claim, shifting onto your knees beside him. Your dress is thrown over the armrest of the couch, and the draft in your apartment makes goosebumps rise on your bare flesh. “You’re not boring, Jungkook,” you tell him, voice softening when his features pinch up, nose wrinkling as he wards off the stinging behind his eyes. 

It’s teenage trauma. Jungkook had told you at least that much before, this crippling sense of loneliness and an inferiority complex that hindered him during an influential growth period of his life. It’s why he’s so quiet when he has so much to say, why he brings you along to every party he gets invited to; he’s never felt like he was enough by himself. 

Sometimes, it leaks into his confessions. “I don’t deserve you,” he says frequently, but some days you want to hot glue him to a chair and force him to listen to every reason why he does and always will deserve you or anyone for that matter. “You make me better,” he claims, but he does that all on his own, lights up the world with his smile alone. 

He’s gotten better, that much you’ve learned from Namjoon and Taehyung. And even you’ve noticed it on your own, watched as he animatedly talked with his friends and his coworkers, drew people naturally to him with his warm aura. 

Even still, there’s moments where he relapses. Moments like this. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs beside you, “I know I’m a handful—“

“You’re not,” you interrupt, cupping his soft cheek in your hand, turning him to face you. Jungkook leans into the touch, and your heart breaks in half when a tear escapes over his waterline, pretty eyes brimming with tears. “You’re not a handful, Jungkook,” you tell him, shuffling closer until you can press your forehead against his. The truth is, you don’t know how to comfort him, but this is how he’s always comforted you; it feels nice when he does it for you. “You’re just enough,” you say, voice soft because it feels like your precious boy is about to fall apart in your arms, his shallow breaths rivaling the volume of the television. “You’ve always been enough.” 

He sniffles, and another tear tickles the side of your thumb, catching the light. “I’m sorry,” he repeats anyway, a disbelieving chuckle tacked on at the end. 

“Don’t be,” you shush, pushing away a strand of hair when he leans closer. His frown is still prominent, pink lips red and soft under your thumb when you tap your finger against them. “You can tell me when things worry you, you know,” you inform him, heart swelling when his eyes fall shut and he leans into your touch. He’s so handsome, the cute little mole beneath his lip begging to be kissed. “I’ll always listen.”

Jungkook hums, breathing evening out. “I know you will,” he says. “But I like listening to your voice more, and I can’t do that when I’m talking.” 

You snort and Jungkook finally lets a tiny smile slip. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after your meltdown,” you mumble, kissing his cheek softly. 

Jungkook chuckles, real this time, and sniffles right afterwards. “I’ll flirt with you whenever I want.” And, because he’s just so full of surprises tonight, he sniffles once more before he’s unceremoniously tackling you back onto the couch. You squeal, the TV remote digging into your back painfully. It has the volume accidentally skyrocketing, startling the both of you with an ear-shattering orchestral piece at the height of some emotional scene. Jungkook scrambles to free the device and lower the volume before your eardrums burst. “I didn’t even know your TV could go that loud,” he says, and he’s speaking normally but the deafening violins are still reverberating in your head, making him sound quieter than he really is. 

“Come here,” you say instead, and he obeys, crawling into your arms, mouth hovering just over yours. “You feeling better?”

Jungkook nods, dark hair bouncing. “You make me better,” he tries, but after tonight’s realization, you respond to his corny words with a pinch against his doughy cheek instead. 

��Don’t say that,” you frown, toying with one of the earrings decorating his ear. The tip of his nose is flushed red, the exertion from crying catching up to him. His lashes are dark, probably feel so heavy with the residual tears that cling to them. 

Jungkook repositions himself, guides your legs around his waist. “Why not? It’s true.” He glances at your mouth. “You make my life better.”

“Wrong,” you say bluntly, brushing his hair back with your hands. “Your own perception and understanding of your experiences makes your life better. I just happen to be in it.” Jungkook looks the tiniest bit surprised at your suddenly logical argument. “Trust me, I saw it in a documentary the other day.” 

At that he laughs, full and loud, pecking your lips once with a sweet smile on his face. “Now I know you’re lying,” he grins, gently nudging his nose against yours. The drama on the TV is but a quiet hum compared to the pounding of your heart in your chest when he looks at you like that. “Because you don’t even like documentaries.” 

You kiss him softly, holding his hair back for him. He tastes a little bit like the chocolate cake he had at the restaurant and the lemonade he drank (he didn’t indulge in the sweet wine with you because he needed to drive). His lips mold perfectly against yours, and he sighs softly when he finally draws back. “But I like you,” you purr. 

Jungkook’s eyes darken, one heavy exhale fanning across the lower half of your face. You readjust the leg around his waist, pull him closer just the slightest bit. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after my meltdown,” he repeats, lips brushing against yours. You chuckle. “You don’t know what that means to me.” You can roughly guess, but that opportunity is taken away when Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, soft lips molding to yours. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, wastes no time slipping in when you open for him, hot and wet. 

Jungkook’s fingers are just as warm when he trails them up the back of your thigh, pulls you impossibly closer until the buckle on his belt is pressed flush against your mound. A tiny whimper escapes your lips, chest jumping just the slightest from the pressure. It makes Jungkook pull away with an easygoing grin, chocolate eyes half-lidded. “You okay?” he murmurs, breath a little shaky from the kiss. You nod, tangling your fingers behind his head and pulling him in close again. 

He evades your puckered lips, ducking down to press his own against your throat, right beneath your jaw. “Ugh,” you groan, digging your nails into his back through his satin shirt. “I wanted a kiss.”

Jungkook nips at your skin, this tiny gesture that couldn’t hurt even if he tried. “You always want a kiss,” he retorts softly, the quiet smack of his lips filling your ears as he bestows a series of smooches against your skin. And it’s so devastatingly tender how he handles you, like you’re made of glass and will break at a moment’s notice, like he wants to treasure your body for the rest of his—

Jungkook chomps down, hard, and you hiss. “Sit still,” he orders, soothing over the bite with one broad lick of his tongue. 

You whimper. “That hurt.” 

“And it’ll hurt even more if you keep moving,” he warns you, and before you can ask what that even means, he’s leaving another stinging bite just further down. It’s at the midway point of your neck, right in front, and you can feel your heartbeat in your throat when he sucks a painful mark over it. “There,” he says, mostly to himself. “All mine.”

Your legs tighten around him, and you fight down the wave of heat that threatens to consume you when he places one final kiss over the second mark— the hickey. 

Jungkook doesn’t usually leave them. In fact, you can rarely recall a time where he had purposefully gone out of his way to mark you up like this. It was always accidental, always unplanned, because he knew how troublesome it was for you to cover them up for work the next morning. Work, where your coworkers and your bosses and Seokjin could see. 

Brows pinched together, your brain begins to draw a connection, one that Jungkook is soon confirming himself. “Everyone will see that now,” he hums, kissing a trail down your neck. 

Of course. 

You pat the back of his head in amusement, hiding a smile against his soft locks. Before you can say anything more, maybe tease him for being so cute, there’s a hand on your hip that snaps you out of your scheming. Jungkook lifts his head, does that endearing little head shake that pushes his hair out of his eyes, before leaning in for another languid kiss. 

It’s even slower than the first, mostly because he’s a little too preoccupied with running his hands over your body now. It starts at your shoulder, teasingly snaps the strap of your bra as you push your tongue down his throat. Jungkook whimpers, that pretty sound that makes you desperate to hear more. It’s the same sound that he always makes when he wants to be pampered, wants you to kiss his entire body while he lays there and takes it. 

And you’re all too ready to act on it. 

Duty calls and you’re there to answer, tilting his head for him with your hands against his cheeks. He sighs against you, breath trembling as it tickles across your skin. That soft and tender way that makes you melt because he’s just so precious, so dreamy. 

But you’re too caught up in your plotting to remember the hand he’s got on your hip, the one that teases the waistband of your panties with one lone finger. It’s only when Jungkook pulls away from your inviting mouth, his other hand holding you down by your shoulder, that you’re snapped back into reality. His lips are swollen and red, slick from your tongue, and so tantalizingly kissable. He huffs out a breath, eyes flickering over your face. “Can I touch you,” he husks, and gives into the temptation to press a kiss against your jaw. 

“Yes, please,” you shiver, hypnotized by his hungry stare. 

Jungkook wastes no time, pressing another kiss against the bruising mark over your throat that dissolves into a series of lighter smooches he trails down between your breasts. His hands come up to cup your boobs over your bra, giving them one harsh squeeze that has you releasing a long exhale as he moves between the valley and down your tummy, over your belly button. “Open,” he says at your pubic bone, carefully guiding your legs apart until you’re spread wide for him. 

The dark panties you’re wearing tonight— the super expensive ones you had spent an hour measuring your body for the exact sizing —receive one light kiss over the front. “Always so pretty for me,” Jungkook murmurs, tracing one lone finger down the middle. Your stomach contracts when he nudges it against you, the soft material of your panties just barely pushed between your folds. 

As his hand occupies itself with some relatively light foreplay, Jungkook tasks himself with leaving another tingling mark against your skin. This time, it’s on the inside of your thigh. He starts it off slowly, a few littered kisses against the skin until he deems one spot worthy enough and abruptly sinks his teeth into you. “Not so hard,” you whimper, reaching down to bury your hands in his hair. 

Jungkook lets it go, sloppily licking over the area. “You like it hard,” he husks, meeting your gaze as he licks one, long stripe over the tender skin. “Don’t you?” You nod demurely, pressing your knuckles against your lips to hold back a tiny moan from slipping past your lips. 

With that new mark blooming over your skin, Jungkook transfers his attention to your pussy, hidden beneath the soft material of your panties. One finger hooks under the hem, tucking them aside until he can see you in your entirety. “Fuck,” he groans, pressing one light kiss over your clit that makes you inhale sharply, fingers digging into his scalp. Jungkook throws one final glance your way before letting his tongue slip past his lips, the very tip flicking against your clit. 

Your breathing becomes shallow, anticipation building in the pits of your stomach as he slowly but surely begins playing with you. His tongue is so warm and wet, nudges your throbbing clit, nose pressed against your mound. “Mmm,” he moans, eyes fluttering shut as his mouth works wonders. 

“Ah,” you gasp, whiny and high-pitched, when he dips one finger past your wet folds. The entry is seamless, his pointer finger sinking into the velvet walls of your cunt as his tongue swirls against your hardened bud. “Jungkook,” you mewl, knocking your heel against his shoulder. Jungkook huffs, suctions his lips around your clit. The cold metal of the rings he always wears— the duo set from that Chrome Hearts brand he likes so much —presses against the trembling lips of your pussy, makes your back arch when he twists his finger inside of you. 

He’s so precise with his tongue, knows just how long and how hard to lick against your pulsing clit until you’re trembling, thighs quivering. Briefly, he pulls away, flicks his hair to the side in one suave motion that lets you see his dark eyes when he glances back up at you again, covered in a thick sheen of lust that makes them appear almost black as opposed to his usual warm brown. His hands reach for the waistband of your panties, tug them off with one fluid pull. 

“So pretty for me,” he murmurs, the end of his words laced with a slight rasp that makes your hips jump. “All for me,” he says, roughly pushing his finger into you again. The harshness makes your entire body tighten up in surprise, eyes fluttering shut when he slips his middle finger alongside his pointer this time around. 

“Baby, wait,” you whimper, walls fluttering around the two digits. Jungkook leans back in, presses a chaste kiss against your clit that makes your breathing stall as he thrusts his fingers into you. 

He ignores your cries, locks his lips at the juncture where your thigh meets your body, sensitive skin that bruises all too easily when he sucks against it too hard. “Only for me,” he sighs, all pretenses discarded as he begins rapidly and roughly fucking his fingers into you. It’s intense, has your thighs quaking as he speeds them up. 

The coil in your stomach tightens, and you have to bite down on your knuckles to stop the litany of whimpers from slipping past your lips when Jungkook ducks down again. He bypasses your quivering clit, warm tongue licking at the warm, wet folds around his fingers instead. The proximity makes the tip of his round nose brush along the length of your cunt, a sight and sensation that makes you moan, his bangs harshly tugged away from his forehead to give you the perfect view. 

It’s with a particularly hard shove and twist combination of his fingers into your clenching walls that you cum, a gasp caught in your throat as your hips push toward him, chasing the feeling Jungkook bestows upon you. Your breathing is a mess, inhales too short, your exhales inconsistent, as Jungkook slows the speed of his fingers inside of you, lets your cum ooze out around them, coat his fingers and his rings. 

“No,” you cry, watching that look come over his face when he withdraws his hand, the look that usually follows him sucking your cum into his mouth. “Jungkook, you don’t have to do that—” you whine, reaching for his wrist and yanking it towards you. 

Jungkook follows, crawls back up beside you as he chases his own sticky fingers. “It’s mine,” he urges, has this weird look in his eyes you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. And just as quickly as it crosses his features, he’s lurching forward to catch his own fingers in his mouth. It’s lewd, the way his tongue wraps around them, leaves them sleek under the TV glow, tattoos and rings glistening. He has the audacity to moan, eyes fluttering shut as his devious tongue slips down between his fingers, so long and precise. There’s a tiny noise that tears itself from your throat, one that has him flickering his clouded gaze up to you as his fingers are released from between his own lips. “You like that,” he murmurs, wet fingers trailing down your cheek, capturing your chin to turn your face his way completely. 

His tongue is sinful as it slips past your lips again, the tangy taste of yourself clinging to him. His breathing feels hot, suffocating. But his kisses are so good, make your mind go blank. So blank, that the fingers that rub at your clit surprise you completely. “Kook,” you gasp, breaking away from him in surprise. 

Jungkook doesn’t let you get far, capturing your mouth with his again. The two fingers you had felt on your chin are gone, firmly pressed against your swollen clit, experimentally rubbing against it. Never mind the fact you were still sensitive from your first orgasm, thighs quivering when he drags them against the wet, soft skin. It makes you shudder, breaking away from him a second time for a desperately needed inhale of fresh air. Jungkook follows behind closely, pressing kisses over your jawline, your chin, as his fingers continue moving against your clit.

He has them pressed together, rubbing at the front of your slit where that bundle of nerves is hidden. It makes your stomach contract, hips jerking forward into the touch in an effort to match him, to speed up the process. “You were made for me, pretty girl,” Jungkook huffs against your cheek, nose pressed against your skin because he’s just so close, practically molded into your side as his fingers send rhythmic shocks of ecstasy up your spine.

Your mouth drops open, stuttered gasps filtering through your lips as Jungkook takes advantage of your sensitive body to draw out another orgasm. But there’s a weird sensation that builds in your stomach this time, one that brings with it a sense of panic. “Wait—“ you gasp, fisting the silky material of his shirt beneath one clenched fist. “Jungkook,” you warn, toes curling.

He responds with a harsh nip against your lower lip that makes you whimper. “Go ahead,” he purrs, rubbing his fingers over you at an insane speed, one that has your juices sloppily spread over your pussy, makes you buck into him and moan against his mouth. 

The feeling grows, an intense, unfamiliar thing that you rarely recall ever feeling before, gasping for air as Jungkook’s fingers caress your clit, pressing down hard. “Fffuck, fuck,” you sob, mouth opening in a silent scream, eyes rolling backwards as you feel your pussy lips contract harder than ever before, thighs quivering as your juices squirt out of you, lower body reduced to jello as Jungkook quickens his movements, wrists jerking back and forth as your pleasure sprays out of you. “Ju— Jungkook,” you wail, forcefully slamming your thighs shut when he doesn’t stop, the pleasure seemingly never-ending under such a torturous touch. “Stop—stop,” you beg, eyes filling with tears that spill over when his trapped hand manages one final rough rub against your clit accompanied by a final gush of wetness. 

Only then does he stop, leaning back on his knees to drink you in with dark eyes that make you quiver. There’s no trace of his usual post-orgasm cockiness, the smile he’ll flash you, the teasing jabs. Nothing, just a frankly terrifying gaze that has you self-consciously pressing your hands over your chest. 

Jungkook doesn’t take kindly to it, roughly snatching one of your wrists up until you’re sitting up, the traces of your own orgasm present in the damp couch cushions beneath you, inner thighs coated in a thin sheen of your own pleasure. Jungkook leans in close, nose bumping against yours. “You came like that for me,” he says quietly, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. You nod, eyes wide and teary when he reaches for the front of his shirt, giving it the same treatment he usually gives yours; two hands at the front, yanking it apart until the buttons are torn from their stitches and bouncing across your floor. 

He throws it off to the side, his tan skin highlighted by the cool tones of the television, the dark sleeve of his tattoo especially prominent. The black ink almost looks blue under this light. You’re so distracted by the perfect swirls and doodles on Jungkook’s skin that you don’t realize that same hand is reaching for you until it’s too late, long fingers wrapping around your throat to jerk you forward, head tipping back to look up at him. “Say it, sweet girl,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded. “Tell me you’re mine.”

The fingers around your throat squeeze once and then slowly begin tightening. You gasp, meeting his hooded gaze with yours, lips quivering for a response that’s stuck in your throat, trapped by your own surprise and tightening airways. Frantically, you reach for his wrists with both hands, not to pull Jungkook’s hand away, but to ground yourself from the hazy cloud of lust the moment evokes. 

Still, your body isn’t as strong as you thought, and once Jungkook reaches a certain tightness around your throat you find yourself coughing. Instantly, he loosens his grip. But not too much. “I- I’m yours,” you rasp out, gasping for air. 

For now, it satisfies Jungkook enough for him to release you. And while you’re grateful for the rush of fresh air that fills your lungs, the phantom ghost of his grip around your throat sends a new gush of wetness between your thighs. One that grows tenfold when Jungkook reaches for his belt, undoes it easily. It comes off with one fluid motion, carelessly shucked off to the side as his attention moves to the front of his pants instead. 

He doesn’t let you sit around uselessly. “On your knees,” he says, so quietly you almost don’t hear it. “Sit on your knees facing the table.”

You blink slowly, the dry tears on your cheeks leaving stiff trails against your makeup. It takes a moment for your brain to process his request, one long second that has Jungkook pausing in his movements, leveling you with one solemn glare that eventually has you springing into action. You hastily slip off the couch, shuffling toward the coffee table between it and the television. The rug is soft beneath your knees, a luxury you can’t enjoy to the fullest because there’s a ball of excitement and fear stuck in your throat. (Right beneath your bruised skin and recuperating windpipes.) Sitting back on your calves, it feels like every nerve is standing stiff as you await his instructions. 

“Bra off,” Jungkook says from behind you, and you’re startled by the sudden ripping of stitches behind you, almost turning to look at him. He stops you with one hand around the back of your neck, drawing a surprised gasp from you. “Sit still,” he commands, your back stiff straight, eyes focused on the screen. After a beat, Jungkook lets you go, pats the back of your head gingerly. “Good girl.”

A whimper catches in your throat at the praise, and you barely manage to bite down on it in time, hurriedly reaching behind you. Your hands fidget over the clasps on your bra, and you nearly jump out of your skin when one lone finger traces down your spine, undoing your bra for you. You don’t know why, but you say, “thank you.”

The television changes scenes in front of you, the bright colors a stark contrast to the darkness of Jungkook’s eyes. Your hands tremble in front of you, fingers anxiously tangling with each other. A few inches beside you, there’s a dark red box filled with the flowers from—

Suddenly, your vision goes dark, hands instinctively reaching up to your eyes. The pads of your fingers come in contact with a soft material, smooth and silky. Just like— “Is this… ?” you murmur, hands sliding across the makeshift blindfold Jungkook’s made for you, the same texture as his shirt had been. 

He doesn’t grace you with an answer, just a hand against your hip as he, presumably, settles behind you. “Does it matter?” Jungkook says instead, voice all too close to your ear. Your entire body locks up, hands quickly returning to their spot against the coffee table. 

Just as you’d suspected, Jungkook is all too close now, hands crawling over your body. They start at your waist, massage the skin tenderly, lovingly, before gliding up to cup your breasts. You shiver, a quiet exhale escaping you as Jungkook rubs his palms over your boobs, trapping your stiff nipples between his fingers. A sound threatens to escape you, and you trap it behind a bitten lip, fists clenched against the table before you. “You know,” Jungkook says conversationally, like he’s not pinching your nipples enough to make you squirm. “Who else do you think can make you come like this?”

You brain lags. “W- What?” you stutter, thighs pressing together to ward away the arousal. Not like they’re already sticky from before, from when Jungkook had made you squirt. 

Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat, pressing a kiss against your shoulder that he trails up to your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. “Who else,” he says slowly, “can make you come like this?”

It’s not a trick question— no one could. You tell Jungkook as much. “I— no one,” you answer, rolling your lips in when he kisses the tender spot beneath your ear again. 

His kisses feel loud, but not as loud as his voice when he says, “exactly.” You swallow, gripping at the edge of the coffee table when he releases your boobs, trails one hand between your thighs, the other around your throat to pull you backwards against his chest. It makes your hands flail, landing against the tops of his thick thighs. 

Jungkook holds you close, fingers tightening around your throat teasingly. “No one else can please you like you want,” he exhales, letting his fingers trail over your skin. “Not the guy on tv, not your exes, not the fucking loser at your job,” he hisses, lips against your ear. “No one,” he reiterates, voice softer now as he presses a kiss against you. “No one but me.”

And it’s true. 

You can’t even muster your usual mouthy, bratty attitude when Jungkook serves you cold hard facts like this. Not when you can feel his aching member press against the small of your back, rest perfectly in the slight dip between your ass cheeks. “Isn’t that right, sweet girl?” he murmurs, voice low. 

You nod, tummy tightening when he uses the hand between your thighs to spread them apart. “Only you,” you agree, voice feathery.

Jungkook hides a grin against your skin, a mean chuckle escaping him when he rests his forehead against your shoulder. “Fuck,” he says, releasing your throat. “Such a good girl,” he praises, hands on your hips again. He uses them to encourage you up onto your knees, hips bumping into the edge of the table as he shuffles you forward. “Bend,” he says quietly, palm flat on the center of your back, pushing you down until your belly button is pressed against the cold wood, boobs swinging forward just the slightest. “Perfect.”

Jungkook shuffles up behind you, soothes a hand over your hip when you flinch at the first press of his cock against your folds. “You’re okay,” he comforts, voice like honey as he lines himself up. Your folds are slippery and wet, loose from your arousal and the two orgasms he’s already given you. 

Despite all that, the first push of his engorged cock past the tight muscles makes you gasp. “Baby, that’s,” you moan, nails scratching against the coffee table to make a sound that you would otherwise find uncomfortable. “I—“

Jungkook pants behind you, cock sinking further and further in. “I’ve got you,” he husks. His voice is like the light at the end of the tunnel, your dark vision forcing you to rely on him entirely as he guides you through the motions. “Made for me,” he repeats, voice airy.

You nod jerkily, arms trembling as his cock plunges deeper inside of you. “Made for you,” you gasp, head falling forward, forehead pressed against the cold surface in front of you. 

He moans, and there’s one deafening moment of silence when he finally reaches the hilt, soft pubic hairs at the base of his cock brushing against your folds. It’s a familiar sensation, having him buried inside of you, but it’s always different when he’s doing it from behind. He always feels fuller, bigger, mushroom tip practically kissing your cervix. 

“Kook,” you whimper, walls unintentionally contracting around him when he lingers a second too long. “Move.”

“Fuck, fuck,” he curses behind you. “I know, it’s just—“ he pauses, squeezes your hip so hard, you’re certain it’ll bruise. “I wanna… y’know,” he groans, dropping his head against your back, warm breath fanning across your slightly sweaty skin. 

It makes something in your stomach click into place, shifting back just the slightest. The small drag around your lips makes you brave. “Then do it,” you urge, desperate for any sort of friction. 

Jungkook practically growls, bucking into you once. “No,” he says, like he’s battling with himself, faced with a mental hurdle he can only cross alone. “You don’t understand,” he sneers, suddenly snapping back into position behind you, pulling you flush against his pelvis once more. It makes you whimper. 

“I kinda do—“

“You don’t,” Jungkook hisses, forcefully thrusting his hips into you enough to make your hips knock painfully against the edge of the coffee table, a startled moan falling from between your lips. And from there, it’s like you’ve unleashed a beast, because Jungkook shows you no mercy as he begins fucking you, his fat cock slipping in and out of you, his angry head flirting with your entrance. “I wanna fucking breed you,” he sneers, fingers digging into the skin around your waist to hold you still as he bucks his hips forward.

His vulgarity makes your skin heat up, the warmth probably tangible over your sloppily made blindfold, eyes wide despite the fabric that covers them. “That—” you gasp, thighs trembling with each powerful thrust. 

“It’s too much, I fucking know,” he huffs dryly, releasing one hip to press against your shoulders, roughly shoving you forward until your breasts are pressed against the surface, arms bent up beside you to stop yourself from hitting your head. “But— But,” he shudders, suddenly stopping his thrusts to grind his cock against you instead, pussy lips quivering around his girthy member. “I wanna,” he pants, “wanna see you so fucking full of me, because— you’re mine, __,” he seethes, “right?”

You nod blindly, dumbly, brain too flooded with the stimulation he’s bestowing upon you to think properly. “I- I am,” you confirm, gasping for air. “And you’re mine,” you manage to get out, one hand slapping down against the coffee table when he draws his cock out, slams himself back into you quickly. 

“I’m yours,” Jungkook slurs behind you, slowly picking up his pace again. The hand on your back lets go, and it’s with trembling arms that you manage to push yourself back onto your forearms, one hand blindly reaching for the hand he’s got gripping at your hips. 

“Oh my god,” you whimper, the sounds coming from your connected bodies so lewd and obscene, disgustingly wet when Jungkook slips back inside. He surges forward again, and you try to catch your balance, knees quivering underneath the force of his thrusts. Your hand slides over the tabletop in a feeble effort to hold onto something, anything. You can’t see, and even if you could there’s not much to hold onto on a flat surface. 

Except the box your hand knocks into. Your confusion lasts for only about a second because then Jungkook is ramming his cock into you, over and over, until you’re certain your hips are going to bruise and your knees are going to give out. Jungkook’s moans are soft and feathery, sighs that fan over your shoulder and make your back arch, eyes rolling backwards for the briefest second as if you were possessed. 

“Mine,” he whimpers, desperate and needy, fingernails digging into your skin as he pushes on. “Gonna be mine forever,” he growls. “Gonna— Gonna be so pretty and big,” he moans, “tits so fucking full.” The image he puts in your mind makes you dizzy. 

You nod dumbly, knuckles bumping against the box a second time. “Jungkook,” you choke out, fingers blindly nudging the box aside. But there’s no strength behind it, your entire body feeling weak and useless, all the energy concentrated in the coil in your stomach, the one that grows and tightens with every entrance of Jungkook’s cock into your pulsing walls. “There’s— There’s something,” you gasp, pinky finger tapping against it.

Behind you, Jungkook stills, harsh breaths deafeningly loud. Louder than the television and the corny music that plays, the mindless chatter of the characters you couldn’t name even if you tried. “Why would you...” Jungkook huffs, irritation lacing his words.

You don’t get to question it, because a second later his finger is tucking itself beneath your blindfold, yanking it off carelessly. It makes your head crane backwards, a tiny yelp torn from your lips as the blinding glow of the TV attacks your poor eyes at full force. Jungkook’s long since stopped his rapid thrusts, and it’s only when you glance off to the side that you realize why. 

It’s the stupid box of flowers Seokjin had sent you, the one Jungkook had placed on the coffee table when you first got home. 

Behind you, Jungkook releases one long exhale, both of you looking at the arrangement with various degrees of discomfort. “Did you like them,” he murmurs, cock throbbing inside of you. 

You shake your head, a soft, “no,” falling from your lips. The muscles in your thighs quiver like mad. 

Jungkook says nothing, but you watch as one inked arm stretches out from behind you, the movement of his hips pushing his cock deeper into you. A tiny whimper catches in your throat, watching as Jungkook hooks a finger over the lip of the box. One swift tug has it gliding over the tabletop, coming to a stop right beside your forearm. Jungkook leans back, the silence terrifying. 

“Did you think they were pretty?” he asks, tracing one finger down your spine. Your lower lip trembles as your eyes scan over the bouquet, at the pretty color selection and lovely scent that joined together to overwhelm your senses. 

“No,” you say, but it feels like a lie.

And Jungkook thinks so too, wrapping one hand around your throat and pulling you back forcefully. It’s the same as he did earlier, but with his cock deep inside your pussy, it sends a shock throughout your entire nervous system, a sob tearing itself from within you as he unintentionally pushes himself deeper inside. “Did you,” he says a second time, practically seething, “think Seokjin’s flowers were pretty?”

Your eyes flicker nervously across the screen in front of you, but everything is a blur, Jungkook’s harsh breathing against your ear. “Yes,” you confess, whimpering when his fingers tighten around your throat, press down against your windpipe as he inhales sharply. “But they’re just flow—“ He squeezes your throat so hard, your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, mind growing fuzzy. Eventually, he lets go and you dissolve into a fit of coughs, bent over the coffee table again as Jungkook slips his stiff cock out from within you. “I’m sorry,” you sniffle, throwing a teary-eyed look over your shoulder.

What you’re not expecting is for Jungkook to grab that same shoulder and roughly push you onto your side away from the coffee table, falling onto the fluffy rug as he shoves you down. “Something pretty for a pretty girl,” he sneers, biting down a frankly maniacal grin.

“What?” you exhale, probably looking at him with the same maniacal look in your eyes. 

(You were made for each other, so crazy and in love.)

Jungkook stretches one toned arm out, and you flinch when he uses that same beautiful arm to send the box of flowers flying over the edge of the coffee table, a hard thwack resounding throughout the room when they land face down on the other side, petals against the floor, water dripping out from inside. 

With those out of the way, Jungkook wastes no time flipping you over, face shoved down against the soft rug as he angles your hips up. “Thinking about someone else when I’m right here,” he growls, ramming his cock back into you with no warning. You sob, clawing at nothing as he bucks forward. “What a mean girl,” Jungkook scolds. 

“I- I wasn’t,” you defend weakly, shivering as he snaps his hips against you, the rug irritating your cheek when the motion sends you forward. Jungkook uses the hands on your hips to pull you back, your skin clapping together loudly. 

“You think Seokjin would— would fuck you like this?” he spits, using you like a toy as he fucks basically for himself, cock sliding in and out of your squelching walls. “You think he’d push you down and—and call you a stupid girl?” 

You shake your head, eyes squeezed shut to fight the wave of tears threatening your waterline. Truthfully, it doesn’t make much of a difference, especially not when Jungkook yanks your hips back again, your entrance sensitive from all the friction. “No, no,” you sob. ”He wouldn't.”

Jungkook scoffs, not bothering to slow his pace down. “Of course he wouldn’t,” he spits, and then, strikes your ass. Two hard cracks of his palm, rings and all, against the globes of your ass. You wail, unconsciously jerking away only for Jungkook to drag you back. “Stupid girl,” Jungkook sighs, cock twitching inside of you. You can feel the beads of precum oozing out from the tip of his cock inside you, their warmth making you shudder. 

Your other ass cheek receives the same treatment, two harsh smacks that leave the skin tingling, blood rising to the surface. “Stupid, stupid girl,” he repeats, palms rubbing over your cheeks for a brief second, only to strike down again. “Aren’t you?” You nod, fat tears dripping out of the corner of your eyes and down onto the fluffy rug beneath you. Your behind stings, pain blossoming over your skin. But it’s the good kind, the one that has drool escaping from the corner of your lips from how overwhelmed it leaves you. 

“I- I’m a stupid girl,” you agree, your words punctuated by a series of tiny sobs and sniffles. Your walls feel sensitive, raw, from his thrusts. You’re ready to come, trembling hands slithering down to reach for your clit. 

“Don’t,” Jungkook warns, snatching your arm up and twisting it behind you. 

You cry, tears and drool against the rug. “I wanna come,” you whimper, trying your other hand only for it to meet a similar demise. “Please,” you sniffle, turning your face the other way as if the angle will somehow be different. 

“You don’t come until I say so,” Jungkook hisses, using his grip on your wrists to tug you onto his cock. You moan, choke on your own saliva from the force, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix for real this time. It renders you stupid, just like Jungkook had called you, chin trembling as your eyes roll backwards. Behind you, Jungkook grunts something deep and raspy. “Fffuck,” he spits, pistoning his hips into your inviting heat. “You were doing so good tonight—“ a particular brutal buck of his hips, a loud moan torn from your lips “—but first those fucking flowers and now this?”

The rhythm of his deep thrusts cut your moans into stuttered little cries, your words broken with every ram of his cock inside of you. Your walls feel worn, every brush sending a tingling shock up your spine. “I- I’m sorry,” you weep, shoulders shaking from your own tears and the rumbling orgasm that’s just about ready to snap. 

Jungkook says nothing, too busy shoving his cock inside of you to grace you with a response. Instead, you’re subjected to his relentless thrusts, sharp gasps from his pretty mouth. “Fuck,” he pants, releasing your wrists after one particular thrusts, your walls clenching around him painfully when he draws his cock out. 

“I can’t,” you sniffle, knees giving out before he can catch you, sadly sinking down onto the plush rug. “Kook, I—”

Jungkook makes a sound, something between a growl and a roar in the back of his throat as he follows behind you, planting two firm hands on the sides of your head to use as leverage to fuck himself in. With your thighs pressed flat together, the squeeze is tighter than ever before, and your eyes roll backwards as he gets to work, walls fluttering from the overstimulation. 

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he pants, all games thrown aside as he begins pounding his cock past your folds, deep into your contracting walls, until that tight spring in your stomach gives out and you’re clenching up beneath him, entire body going stiff for one long beat. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you weep, thighs quivering as you cream his cock, make his movements so slippery and wet, almost dangerous when he’s going this fast. His name falls from your trembling lips, every nickname and pet name you’ve ever given him mindlessly blubbered through your orgasm. Jungkook pays you no mind, thighs tensing up as he chases his high, short breaths and moans filling the space as he fucks himself into you. Until, finally, a few deep strokes later, he’s coming with a shuddered cry of your name on his tongue, collapsing over you, forehead pressed to your back as he catches his breath. 

“Fuck,” he groans one last time, body going slack very quickly. He slumps down beside you, softening cock slipping out of your tender folds. 

The floor between the coffee table and the couch is dark, the television glow not reaching down here. Even still, the sweat clinging to Jungkook makes him look like a sparkly Twilight vampire, the dip between his pecs collecting the smallest pool of sweat. You can’t stop yourself from running your pointer finger along the skin, over his nipple. His pec jumps deliciously under the attention. “Stop,” Jungkook sighs, catching your wrist in his, pressing his lips to your knuckles in an attempt to distract you. “Or I’ll really get you pregnant next time.”

You push yourself onto your elbows, pinching his doughy cheek. “You won’t,” you tease. Jungkook flicks his hair away from his eyes to level you with a look you’ve never seen before, not a trace of his usual post-sex playfulness to be found. It has you retracting your hand, eyes wide when he doesn’t stand down. Still, you can’t lose. “...No you won’t,” you repeat, quieter, almost unsure. Almost a question. 

Jungkook rolls his eyes, tugging you into his arms. He’s all sweaty and sticky, just like you. He’s lucky he doesn’t have four separate loads of cum— three from you, one from him —sticking between his thighs. “Keep telling yourself that,” he pants, so smoothly. Too smoothly. It makes you clench your thighs, something Jungkook doesn’t miss. “Stop it,” he warns a second time.

“You’re just so dreamy,” you whine, sitting back up to play with his hand. “Like, when you made me squirt?” He chuckles softly, eyes fluttering shut. “Not gonna lie, I thought I saw the answer to the universe for a second.” 

He’s worn out today, more than usual, that he doesn’t bother gracing you with a response. But it had been a long day for Jungkook; from planning an entire date, to the Seokjin debacle, to the crazy hot sex he’d gifted you. It was only reasonable. You reward his efforts with a soft peck against his cheek that makes him smile, a light blush painting his cheeks. “You did good today,” you hum, patting chest comfortingly. 

“Felt like I was in a Viki drama,” he confesses after a moment, has that tiny smile on his face that makes the apples of his cheeks especially round, especially cute. “The kind that have twelve plot lines going on.”

You laugh, snuggling beside him. The rug feels dirty, but so do you so the feeling is cancelled out or whatever. “You’d be the Park Seojoon of any Viki drama,” you tell him, and Jungkook laughs.

That loud and airy one he reserves only for you. 

epilogue

Namjoon calls Jungkook’s phone a little after eleven, talking your ear off about some date he’d gone on while Jungkook is in the shower. You tell him about what happened with Seokjin and like all respectable college mentors, he just about flips. “You can sue him,” Namjoon hisses, furious for you. Not that you aren’t anymore, but in a weird act of impulsiveness, Jungkook had gone outside and ran the stupid box of flowers over with his car as you watched from the open window of your apartment. It was weirdly cathartic. 

He’s in the shower now, humming the lyrics to one of the songs from Secretary Kim, a song called It’s You by Jeong Sewoon (thank you, Shazam), that makes every inch of your body overflow with adoration when he hits that long note. Anyway, you’re perusing the rest of the streaming service for a movie to watch. Jungkook said you couldn’t watch Train to Busan tonight, something about it ruining the mood. So now you’re debating between a historical romcom or a modern romcom. 

Over the line, Namjoon is doing all the raging for you. “Men are trash,” he huffs one last time, before eventually letting it go. (For now.) “Hey, do you know how to cover up hickeys?” he asks suddenly, just as Jungkook reappears in the living room. His skin is glowing, looking like the hottest man alive. The window is still open, a feeble attempt to air out the smell of sex in the room, and the draft makes Jungkook shiver because his hair is still a little wet. 

“Hickeys?” you repeat, stretching a hand out for him as he rounds the couch. Jungkook takes it, places a soft smooch against your knuckles, close to your promise ring. Your heartbeat stutters just as Namjoon hums. 

“Yeah, this girl,” he says, cutting himself off with a laugh. One you recognize all too well because it’s the same one you let out when you talk about Jungkook to other people. Said boy settles close beside you, leans his cheek against your head when you snuggle into his neck. As soon as he’s there, you lose all rights to the remote, watching as Jungkook completely disregards all your searching just to click back onto Secretary Kim. He had missed a whole episode. “We went a little crazy tonight—“ you gag at the image Namjoon places in your head “—and Doyeon bites kinda hard—“

“Doyeon?” you interrupt, all mental processes coming to an abrupt halt as the name bounces around your mind. Jungkook, having mastered the art of listening in on your phone calls by now, freezes beside you. “You know a Doyeon?” 

“Yeah!” Namjoon says excitedly as you sit up. Jungkook meets your gaze, big Bambi eyes giving the performance of a lifetime, and gives your this overly innocent shrug of his shoulders that tells you more about what he does know than what he doesn’t. “Kim Doyeon. She went to your school— actually, she graduated with you and Kook.”

The world comes to a complete stop as you glare at Jungkook, his panicked features cueing you in to the fact he was aware of this, as you’d suspected. “Namjoon,” you say slowly, fist tightening around Jungkook’s phone. “Are you aware you’re fucking my best friend?” 

There’s a long silence on the other end, Namjoon presumably processing the information while Jungkook tries to calm the boiling anger within you. “He didn’t know,” Jungkook whispers, big pretty eyes on you as he tries to save Namjoon from you. 

All his efforts are in vain when Namjoon clears his throat and so eloquently says, “and you’re fucking my best friend?”

epi-epilogue

The Best Buy employee doesn’t ask questions when you and Jungkook go in to get your cracked phone screens repaired. He does, however, give Jungkook an over-exuberant sales pitch on a brand new line of computer monitors that are almost as big as the television at your house. 

You try to save him from the dangerous hands of capitalism, but the Hello Kitty bandaids decorating your neck are itchy, the skin still so tender, so sometimes it’s wiser to let him waste his money than argue otherwise. 

“Good girl,” Jungkook says as he swings your arms back and forth on your walk to the car, impressed by the fact you didn’t argue with him in a Best Buy today. “My perceptions and understanding of you in my life make me happy,” he beams, too smiley as he unlocks the doors. 

“Shut up,” you glare, painfully tearing the stupid bandaids off your neck as soon as you get in, brandishing the blossoming hickeys Jungkook had so graciously given you last night. At the sight, he bites down a smile. “You’re about to perceive and understand these fists.” 

And Jungkook smiles— he always smiles —as he leans over the center console to press his mouth against the darkened skin at the front of your neck, mindlessly rubbing his thumb over your promise ring. “Perceive this love,” he says, so cheesy it makes you gag. 

“Goddd,” you groan, pushing him away before he can see the smile on your face. “Someone get this man a Viki deal.”

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[wornoutmouse]

Bakugou Birthday Bash

Yall already know, we gon act like i aint disapear

I got 40 different things that I’m writing about right now but I got to get something out for fireball here. I KNOW I’M LATE ASSHATS CALM DOWN!

Fun Fact: Guys play with our nipples cause they think they feel the same as theirs. This isn’t true because a guy’s nipples are 3 times more sensitive than a female’s. 

Fun Fact 2: Getting your cervix hit during intercourse is only pleasurable to VERY few individuals and overall causes pain or discomfort to the majority.

Exhibitionist, 3-some, rough sex, train, consent is sexy, slight dacryphillia

You could feel your heart beating with anticipation, in your mind, you repeat the same mantra over and over again. “This is for Katsuki.” Currently, Bakugou, Kirishima, and yourself were having a movie night. You had spent the day with Katsuki dragging him throughout the city taking him to various places for his 25th birthday.

In the morning, you made him breakfast in bed consisting of smiley face porridge with the eyes being eggs, smile being bacon, with sausage eyebrows. Bakugou was not amused, to say the least. Afterwords you did his hair separating the blond hair into two braids marveling at the black streaks intertwining themselves. “Do you like it?” Bakugou sleepily grunts, burying his face into your cleavage when you finished. “I just want to go back to bed.”Shaking your head you grab your outfit and walk towards the bathroom. “No can do Kats, I go the whole day planned for you, this isn’t going to be like your last birthday.” 

After going out to the shooting range, a nearby spa, and having brunch at his parent’s place much to his distress. “Katsuki put a smile on your face for once, you know you love my Unagi!” You laugh as you watch Bakugou pout at the feeling of his mother ruffling his hair. “Shut it old hag..” His father only chuckles before resuming his conversation with you.

When you finished the reunion, you drop Bakugou off at home before going to pick up Kirishima. As you drove back, you could tell Kirishima could sense your nervousness. He placed a hand on your thigh to get your attention, “You know that you can always opt-out of this, I don’t mind we can just have a normal movie night. “This” was a plan that you had both been creating together. 

Ever since high school, you knew Bakugou had a soft spot for the redhead going far past causal friendship. And it wasn’t until last year that you accidentallt heard Bakugou mumbling his name in his sleep accompanied by soft moans. At first, you understandably felt a bit jealous despite being in a relationship with Bakugou for the last 6 years but as you thought about things more and more, a mischievous thought came to you, now leading up to the current moment.

“I’m fine Ejirou, this is just something I’m not used to.” you exhale and smile a bit more determined after saying your doubts out loud. “But I can’t back out on my own plan.” Kirishima flashes his signature shark tooth smile before facing forwards again. Now, with both of you sitting with Bakugou in between, the tension was high in the air and it was up to you to make the first move. 

“This movie is stupid, why would she even run after him after he called her stupid!” “Uh, Bakugou, you call me and Y/n stupid all the time?” Bakugou huffs leaning back on the couch. “Yeah but that’s different...you are.” You would have laughed if you hadn’t decided to make your move. You rest your arm on Bakugou’s shoulder playing with his braid that had long since frayed from your day’s activities.

He pays no mind, eyes focused on the corny romance movie he rented from Redbox. The movement of bright yellow catches Kirishima’s eyes as the TV screen flashes white from a scene change. He decided to take the more direct approach by putting his hand on Bakugou’s thighs and squeezing the skin there. Katsuki’s hair skips from your grasp as he twitches from the contact. “Hey watch your hands shity hair.”

Kirishima hums but doesn’t move his hand. You allow silence to go on for a moment as Bakugou gets back into his movie. When Bakugou relaxes enough, you snake your hand to his crotch and squeeze his dick through the pants. Bakugou’s attention lands on you almost immediately as his hand clamps down on your wrist. You ignore the tight grasp and rub your thumb over his dick, feeling it twitch with nervous interest. 

Bakugou leans towards you harshly whispering, “What are you doing idiot, Ejirou is right here.” You bite your bottom lip before whispering back your reply, “Well you better be quiet then don’t you think Katsuki?” Ruby eyes glared at you but the blond remained silent before gripping his braid nervously. He bounces his left leg as you resume your light teasing and does his best to focus again. 

You notice Kirishima’s movements and feel adrenaline run throughout your body. Kirishima does the same as you, whispering in Katsuki’s ear, lips only a breath away from touching skin. “Hey Bakugou, we should have brought some snacks don’t you think? I’m kinda hungry.” Underneath your hand, Bakugou’s breathing falters, “Ah, yeah well you should have brought your own snacks I’m not getting up from here.” Kirishima peeks at you from behind Bakugou’s head sending you a wink. 

Rubbing his wrist Kirishima pulls a hair tie from his arm and puts it between his teeth. At the same time, you unzip Bakugou’s pants and make direct contact with his cock. Kirishima focuses on how Bakugou’s adam’s apple bobs when he makes eye contact with him. Bakugou’s eyes watch as Kirishima’s muscles ripple as he ties his hair up into a bun and you resist the urge to laugh as Bakugou’s dick goes full mast making a smacking sound as it hits his stomach. 

That seems to bring him back to reality and he quickly covers himself when he catches Eijirou staring at his exposed groin. “Ah shit, what the hell Y/N!?” Bakugou jerks his head towards you accusingly, cheeks red with embarrassment and teeth bared in anger as he prepares to chew you out. Your hand, now resting behind Katsuki, motions Kirishima to Bakugou’s dick as the blond chews you out. “Are you trying to make me fucking upset-ah fuck!” 

With one hand by his face to tuck stray hair behind his ear, Kirishima uses his other hand to hold Katsuki’s shaft, hollowing his cheeks around the rest of his dick. The look of confusion was forever present as Katsuki tosses an apologetic look at you willing his eyes to focus despite the sudden onslaught of pleasure. “Sh..Shitty hair what the hell do you think you’re fucking d-doin?!” Bakugou’s hips jerk up as he rises to the top of his toes. He places his hand on top of Kirishima’s head but not to pull him away as he tried to make it seem.

Eijirou jerked his cock delicately before mouthing at Bakugou’s balls that tightened underneath his lips. “I don’t...Y-Y/n fuck, I’m sorry...ah..its....I...feels so damn good1” Remorseful moans leave Katsuki’s mouth as his eyes screw shut. You push his hair away from his face in order to see him better. The hand you had laying in his lap is grabbed and gripped tightly almost as if he was afraid to let go of you. 

With his head tossed back, you take the initiative to bite his neck softly, drinking in the whimpers that exit his mouth. “Relax and enjoy your birthday present Katsuki.” You turn on a table lamp and slide to the floor, pulling Kirishima down with you. With the lights now blazing, Bakugou could no longer chalk up the current situation as a really bizarre dream as took in the view of both of you occupying his lap. Kirishima abandons his cock for you to take care of as he slides his tongue up Bakugou’s toned stomach.

“Relax Bakugou and let us take care of you.” Katsuki helplessly grips Kirishima’s shoulder with gritted teeth. “Get your fucking mouth off my nipple asshat...it feels fucking weird.” Both you and Kirishima chuckled at the insults Bakugou attempted to use to hide his embarrassment. Kirishima moans obnoxiously as he rolls Bakugou’s nipple with his tongue before biting down. “You two planned this didn’t you?” 

Bakugou’s usual attitude came back before you could even notice and by the time you did, it was too late. The hand that was previously caressing your head tightened against your scalp and you were soon being pushed down Bakugou’s cock. Kirishima looked down at the sound of you choking, eyes going wide at your puffed cheeks and teary eyes, but it was too late for him as well. Kirishima’s man-bun was grabbed and yanked giving Katsuki access to his neck that he abused with bites. “Fucking assholes had me over here confused and shit all for your little birthday present.”

His strokes were slow and torturous to your throat, grinding slowly inside before stopping and holding your face there just to feel your mouth constrict due to limited oxygen. “And how long have you known shitty hair? Tell me the truth and I’ll give you a reward” Kirishima (the snitch) winces as his hair is pulled again. “About half a year.” Bakugou hums and kisses Kirishima. Through watering eyes, you watch as Bakugou forced his tongue inside his best friend’s mouth. “Good boy.” Looking down at you, you feel a shiver go throughout your body and you could tell you were in for a rude awakening.

“Is it safe to assume that you were the source Y/n?” Your forearm is grabbed and you are out on top of Bakugou’s lap. “Yes.” Your answer is rewarded with a slap on your covered ass. “I’m gonna make sure you regret that. Both of you, take off your clothes.” Pouting you poke Bakugou’s chest, “No, that’s not how this is going to work, we both wanted to make you feel good.” Bakugou raised an eyebrow before looking at Kiri who shakes his head innocently disagreeing in order to save his own skin.

“You are gonna make me feel good.” Bakugou slides his hands under your shirt pulling it off. “I’m going to feel so good watching you two break.” Bakugou caresses your chin placing a ginger kiss on your chin before pushing you off. “Now take these damn clothes off.” 

You and Eijirou watch him leave the living room and go elsewhere, “We really are in for it aren’t we?” You nod solemnly, “There is nothing good coming out of our bedroom. I'll tell you that Kiri.” Kirishima sat steadily, face and shoulders painted red with a warm blush, “Well at least he took it well.” you jokingly slap Kirishima’s shoulder to ease the throbbing feeling in the pit of your stomach. The male’s eyes look at the hand on his shoulder for a moment, contemplating his next move. You watch, heart rate increasing at the serious look  the normally smiling man held. Kirishima grabs your hand and places it over his chest, sliding it down his abdomen effectively bringing you closer to him.

When you were close enough, you and Eijirou lock lips passionately. His right hand held your face gently as his left pulled your lower body towards him. Your mouth consumed the moans Kirishima let out as the tip of his cock caught the rim of your belly button. When you pull away, one of Kirishima’s shark-like teeth nips into your lower lip, drawing blood. The look of you out of breath, chest swelling, and plump kiss-bitten lips turned Kirishima on more than he thought he could be. “She’s sexy without even trying huh?”

Bakugou’s gravel-like voice startles you both, Katsuki walked closer before squatting behind you. Your afro is drawn back by Bakugou and he forcefully kisses you, exploring your mouth feverishly leaving you unable to keep up. You are the one to pull away when you become out of breath and allow yourself to be manhandled against Katsuki’s chest while he leans against the couch. Scarred hands spread your legs exposing you to Kirishima who had no problem ogling you. “You see how wet she is for you shitty hair, don’t let my presence stop you.”

Eijirou scoots closer on his knees, grabbing your legs. When he brings his face closer, Katsuki spreads your pussy lips apart with his index and ring finger, stroking your clit with his middle finger. You sigh into the feeling before jumping when Kirishima slaps your cunt, “Look at that she’s quivering.” Eijirou hikes your legs over his shoulders,  burying his face in your warm cunt without a care about your juices covering his face. His lips wrap around your clit, sucking incessantly at the small nub, heightening your pleasure. 

Reaching past you, Bakugou holds Kiri’s head and presses his face down into you, “Get in there Eijirou and quit playing before I kick your ass out.” You squeeze your eyes shut as a warm muscle pushes its way inside your needy hole. Your back arches and Bakugou is forced to hold your legs open lest you close them shut on Kirishima’s head. Bakugou leaves tender kisses behind your ear, rubbing your legs tenderly. The touches sent feelings like electricity through your core and you felt your blood race as you came closer to orgasm.

Kirishima laps at your pussy once more before pulling away, leaving you on the very edge of your release making you whine. “She’s so sweet Katsuki.” Kirishima whimpers softly, before messily kissing Bakugou. Their tongues wrapped against each other as they share your taste. From the small of your back, you could feel Bakugou grind his hips against you. You reach your hand down to finish yourself off but without even looking your hand is grabbed by Kirishima who instead guides you to his throbbing cock.

 It was red, most likely from the light teased your living room carpet caused while he was eating you out.The groan that you rip from Kirishima as you stroked him, shocked both you and Katsuki. 

Kirishima stops the kiss, leaving a strand of saliva connecting the two. Kirishima’s red eyes narrowed at you as he spoke to Bakugou, “F...Forgive me Bakugou, but I need to be inside someone or someone inside me before I burst.” Bakugou smirks holding your chin so you can look at him, “What do you think princess?” You look at Kirishima who indeed looked to be on his last straw with a smirk. “It’s your birthday Katsuki, you should get first pick.”

Bakugou furrowed his brow more than your thought possible, “You sure you don’t mind?” Playfully biting his cheek you give a reassuring smile, “I planned this baby, if I mined, we wouldn’t be here.” Bakugou grunts in response, giving you time to get off of his lap before pushing Kirishima onto his knees, “Hey asshole, remember that time you painted my gauntlets purple?” Kirishima smirked, “You still mad about that? Lavender is your color Bakubro.” Katsuki glared at the redhead, slapping his ass, “Don’t call me that when I’m going to be balls deep inside you.” Looking back over at you, Bakugou gets an idea, “Stop twiddling your fingers and making me feel bad and get over here.”

You did a shit job at hiding your happiness as you cutely scooted towards the two males. “Shitty hair, you’re going to fuck her while I fuck you, and if you cum inside I’m going to blow your ass off the face of the earth.” It took until Kirishima was positioned over you and Bakugou had taken place behind him that Kirishima finally realized the reality of Bakugou’s threat. “Wait a second, how do you expect me not to cum from all the stimulation?!” You watched Bakugou shrug over Kirishima’s shoulder, “Not my problem.” A disgusting squelching sound is heard and you feel Kirishima shiver as he laid over you. “Have you done this before Katsuki?” 

Bakugou was silent and Kirishima’s eyes widened and you quickly grab his face to avoid his fear-stricken expression reaching the excited blond. “He’s got this Kiri, trust me, can’t be any different than normal anal right?!” Kirishima rested his head on your shoulder, kissing the skin there, “Is this you telling me you’ve done anal before?” You both laugh, having a moment of comfort despite the strange situation. “Mmmm.” Kirishima hums quietly, vibrating against your skin, you could feel him rocking against you and most likely against Bakugou’s fingers. “Ahh, fuck~” 

“You good Eijirou?” Bakugou rests against Kirishima’s body, biting his shoulder blade. “Y-yeah, I’m good.” Reaching in between the two of you, and you felt him lining himself against your opening. “Ah, you’re...you’re not wet anymore. I’m sorry.” Kirishima puts his fingers in his mouth, briefly stopping to whimper loudly around them, “Ah there it is.” Bakugou smirks from behind Kirishima, and judging on how much Kirishima starts to shake, he repeatedly abuses said spot. It is then your turn to feel pleasure as Kirishima takes the task to finger you open.

You raise your legs and wrap them around Kirishima’s back to get a better angle and the room is mostly silent besides the obvious noises of prep. Something that made both you and Bakugou dawn a notable smirk was how loud Kirishima was being compared to the rest of you. From Bakugou’s end, Kirishima was fucking himself back on his fingers sucking them in greedily, hips rotating just to be able to feel his prostate being stimulated again. From your end, Kirishima’s hands shook as he tried to angle himself inside of you so much so you had to help him. “I’m so damn close, fuck. Bakugou you gotta give me a moment man!” 

Both you and Kirishima moaned when Bakugou smacked the red head’s ass causing his hips to jerk forward. “You better hold it in, I haven’t even started yet dumbass.” Kirishima grunted as Bakugou penetrated him. “Y/n, I can’t, fuck I can’t!” Eijirou had his eyes clenched shut. Bakugou snapped his hips against him, making Kirishima fuck you as well, “Come on Eijirou, you can do it, you feel so good.” 

Kirishima’s cock curved right, making your toes curl from the stimulation. Bakugou held onto Kirishima’s hips hard, most likely to leave indents later on. Kirishima propped himself up on his elbows and thrust into you, simultaneously meeting Bakugou’s thrusts. “Y/n, you feel so damn good. So fucking w-warm!” You bear down on Kirishima’s cock, squeezing around him. “Why are you talking so much Eijirou, you close to cumming?” Kirishima narrowed his eyes at Bakugou’s taunt, “Fuuck, Y/n why does it feel like he’s getting harder, eveRy time.” The sound of Kirishima’s voice cracking was comical yet arousing. 

Your fingers curl on Kirishima’s back as his thrusts got sporadic occasionally thrusting so hard he grazed your cervix, causing brief discomfort. “Your so damn tight, Eijirou, damn!” Bakugou’s stomach contorted with each thrust, feeling Kirishima’s hole constrict around his cock at every drag. It was as if Kirishima was simply a doll between the two of you, that you used as a stress ball. Kirishima was loud at this point, gripping the sheet around your head hard enough for him to rip even without activating his quirk. 

Wordless babbles, left his mouths, his eyes rolled behind his head, as Bakugou speeds up. “You should see the look on his face Katsuki!” Kirishima kisses you roughly as a way to combat your teasing. His tongue lazily roams your mouth, lips vibrating at the broken moans you both let out from Bakugou’s brutal onslaught.

Kirishima quieted, your ears barely picking up on him muttering ‘fuck’ repeatedly. “B-Bakugou, stop, I’m gonna cum, let me pull out.” Kirishima tosses his hand back, brushing it against Bakugou’s abdomen in an effort to slow him down. “What nonsense are you speaking Eijirou? We aren’t stopping till I cum” Bakugou grabs Kirishima’s struggling arm, and holds it behind his back. The rest of Kirishima’s weight flops down on you creating sweet friction against your clit, and Kirishima’s modestly trimmed bush of hair. You hold Kiri closer with your legs as your orgasm builds to greater heights. “But you said-” “I know what I said dumbass, and it still stands. Now shut up and take it.”

Eijirou moans as Bakugou speeds up his thrusts. Bakugou holds him down by his shoulder no longer giving Kirishima space to even thrust into you. Bakugou relents on thrusting and instead relies on the sheer force his weight caused every time he slammed down on Kirishima’s hips. “Bakugou-” “Shut up for fuck sakes!” Bakugou clamps his hands on Kirihsima’s mouth and nose, cutting off his hair flow. You grab “Katuski’s hair and pull him towards you in a violent kiss. 

You make a sound of alarm at the feeling of warmth feeling your body. Bakugou uncovers Kirishima’s mouth feeling him tighten so hard around his dick and Bakugou cums as well after a few weak thrusts. Kirishima had tears of overstimulation flowing down his face, mouth open as he continued to pump hot cum into your hole. “Damn you really couldn’t hold on huh?” Kirishima shook his head, clearly on cloud nine, still filling you with so much cum, you contemplated on taking to brands of birth control. Bakugou looked down at you, watching as you pet Eijirou’s head reassuringly. “Did you cum?” You shook your head, kissing Eijirou’s temple. 

Bakugou nodded before jerking Kirishima’s legs pulling him out of you at the same time making you both hiss from the pinch-like pain. Bakugou turns Kirishima on his back and helps your straddle him. Staring up at you with wide eyes,  Kirishima felt like prey under the watch of hungry lions. 

“What...what’s going on guys?” Your thumb rubs over Kirishima’s hardened nipples, watching his toned belly contort from the external stimulation. “Kiri..” you pout your lips mockingly before grabbing Kirishima’s cock that laid limp against his stomach. His red eyes followed your body down to your pussy. You rubbed his dick over your cunt, hovering over him. His hips twitching when your thumb presses down underneath his girthy head.

“I haven’t came yet.”

[vixenpen]

You should DEFINITELY do a part 2 to the Dabi x teacher fic! Like it could be when they start taking their relationship to the next level and do some freaky things😏

Hot For Teacher pt.2 (Dabi x Black Reader)

Quirkless AU

(Friendly reminder in this Dabi owns a tattoo shop and is tatted and pierced up and reader is black and thiccccc🍑💦💦)

You were completely unaware of the turquoise eyes admiring your thick ass as you erased your last lesson from the white board.

Dabi’s dick flexed just imagining what sliding between those cheeks would feel like. The material of your conservative black dress clung to your juicy butt and round hips despite the loose material. He liked that.

After a while he couldn’t take it anymore and snuck up behind you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and pressing into you from the back.

“Dabi!” You squealed.

“Sorry, Ms. Y/n,” he chuckled against your kinky hair, “I just wanted to come by and see if it was possible to get some private lessons.”

You giggled, shaking your head, “you’re so corny. What are you doing here anyway?”

“I wanted to see if you wanted to get dinner, but I’m hungry now.”

“What? What’s the supp-oh!”

The soft material of your knee length dress slid against your body and the next thing you felt were Dabi’s big, warm hands massaging your hips and a very familiar bulge against the crack of your ass.

“Damn, teach,” your boyfriend grinned against your ear, his deep raspy voice made you shiver. “You should have known better than to wear a thong with this little dress of yours. All those pervy male teachers probably haven’t been able to take their eyes off you.”

Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt strong fingers groping and massaging your ass cheeks.

“Dabi,” you croaked weakly, “not here.”

Dabi responded by snaking his pierced along your neck. You whimpered.

“D-Dabi..”

“Hmm?”

One his hands squeezed your full breasts beneath the material.

“Stop, I’m serious.”

“You know, you’re really hard to resist, right beautiful?” His hard on was massaging you through the jeans.

The two of you had been dating for a few months now, and had yet to go beyond kissing and heavy petting that always left Dabi wanting more. He wasn’t sure what you were waiting for, but he did know you were worth the wait.

And boy did you make him wait for it...and work for it. It was as hot as it was frustrating. His dick was so hard it hurt, and all he could think about was fucking you on your desk until you were screaming his name.

He turned you around to face him easily and scooped you up by those thick thighs of yours.

The next few moments were a blur. You saw pens and papers knocked to the floor before feeling your big bare ass settle against the cool wood of the desk.

“My lesson plans!”

Dabi’s lips cut off your protest, and his fingers worked the black dress off your body and over your head, exposing your curves to the cool air.

It was dizzying and exciting and sexy and...inappropriate! So inappropriate. This was your job!

“D-Dabi, wait!” You gasped between the feeling of his pierced lips nipping at you. “There might be students-“

“School ended an hour ago. Trust me. No kids are in this building.” He chuckled, amused.

“The janitors might-“

“I locked the door, beautiful. We’ll hear ‘em comin’.”

Turquoise eyes roamed your thick, dark body hungrily, followed by hands stacked with rings.

“Damn, I want you.” He muttered, diving down between your big breasts to lick and suck at them.

“Ahh~” you dug your fingers into his crop of black hair. “We can’t.” You gasped.

“Says who?”

“Da-ahh! Mmm.” His tongue was now snaking down your stomach. Kisses and bites being left on the melanated skin below your belly button. Fuck it felt so damn good.

He admired the glistening mess between your legs, parting the thick thighs to admire your creaming pussy.

“Fuckin’ delicious.”

And then he dove in.

“Ohh go—“

Dabi slurped at your clit gently. The flick of his pierced tongue combined with the warmth of his mouth sucking the sensitive pearl sent electricity tingling through you.

Your eyes fluttered shut and the muffled sounds of heels clicking down the hall as remaining teachers walked past your locked room was the furthest thing from your mind.

This was so wrong. This went against everything you stood for, and yet...

“Moan for me, y/n,” Dabi commanded against your pussy. “Don’t hold back. Or else I’ma stop holdin’ back.”

“Dabi~”

He smirked up at your pretty brown face and his fingers glided easily into the gripping heat of your cunt.

“Ahhaaa! Fuck! Fuck...” your hips bucked against the sensation.

Months of only being able to play in your cat had given Dabi plenty of time to get to know your weaknesses. He exploited every one of them now. Throwing your thick thighs around his neck he flexed his fingers while licking at your folds.

You could only squirm against him, one hand grabbing his head to push his face deeper while the other gripped the edge of your desk.

“D-Dabi, god yes! Don’t stop! Don’t stop. B-baby, f-f-fu~”

Those sweet moans were music to Dabi’s ears. Your cum coated his fingers and your juices sprayed his face. He opened his mouth greedily drinking every drop.

Then he laughed low in his throat.

“Wow, Ms. Y/n, you really are a naughty teacher aren’t you?”

You tried to glare down at him, but it barely registered. You were too turned on to be pissed.

Dabi continued to tease you. “Letting me fuck you on your desk. Right here where you have to teach all these innocent young minds.”

“Sh-shut up!”

Dabi pressed kisses against the chunky meat of your thighs, his piercings tickled and his lips felt so good.

“Or what, Ms. Y/n?” He asked. “You’ll make me stay after class?”

He snickered and got to his feet.

You couldn’t help admiring him. He wasn’t a big guy by any means, but he was lean and well toned. You wanted to see all of him. Feel all of him.

Snatching him by his shirt, you pulled him close and locked your thick thighs around his trim hips. Your lips pressed against his, hungry to taste every bit of him.

The two of you pulled his shirt over his head and you grinned admiring the colorful tapestry of tattoos and, your favorite part, the barbells piercing his nipples.

Dabi gave a smug smirk. “What’s up, babe? Don’t wanna stop anymore?”

You cocked a brow. “Real funny for someone who moans like a bitch when I do this.”

Pulling him towards you by the waist of his jeans, you trailed your tongue around his nipple, gazing up at him in that way that drove him fucking crazy.

“Oh my god~” he sighed. “Fuuuck, y/n...”

You giggled softly, switching to the other nipple. A deep groan welled up from your man’s throat.

Taking back control, your hand slipped beneath the waistband of his pants, squeezing the thick length trapped in his jeans.

Fuck his dick was so big. You had wanted to fuck your man for the longest time. And just feeling how hard his big dick was for you only confirmed that.

You pressed kisses up along his bobbing Adam’s apple, sucking at his studded earlobes. Your lips pressed to his ear as you purred out; “Now whose being naughty?”

That was about all the man could take.

He snatched you up off the desk once more to turn you around, laying you against it.

You heard the clang of his belt buckle as he snatched off his belt. Then you felt the leather and studs of it kiss your phat ass as he cracked it against you.

“OH FUCK!” You screamed.

“Yeah?” Dabi growled. “Since you wanna talk shit and be a little tease that’s what your ass gets.” He snapped back.

He spanked you a few more times, not caring about what straggling teachers may have heard the noise.

Your mouth hung open as you felt your boyfriend’s lean body press against your body, long dick rocking between the cheeks of your butt.

“I been wanting to fuck your fine ass up for a minute Ms. Y/n.” He chuckled. “This is gonna be fun.”

He stood up admiring the view of that big, perfect ass jiggling with all its dimples and stretch marks in front of him.

God. He couldn’t wait to dive in it.

You craned your neck and admired the long dick slipping between your ass crack. A trail of piercings forming a jacob’s ladder on the underside.

Dabi caught your eye and grinned, eyes flashing. “You ready, babygirl?”

“Fuck me.” You replied.

That was all the answer he needed. Dabi wasted no time plunging deep into that juicy cunt of yours and a strangled groan escaped you both.

“Ahaaa~ fuuuuck yesss, Dabi!”

It was an odd sensation. His piercings added another sensation of texture to your throbbing walls. Your pussy couldn’t get enough of it because you felt yourself clenching and flexing for more.

Luckily he was more than happy to give it to you. His hips rocked back and forth making you feel every. Single. Inch. Every bump and ridge of your tight heat got massaged as he long stroked inside you.

“Fuckkk, y/n, you feel even better than I imagined, babygirl.”

The Angle made your big butt squeeze his cock going in and out, adding an extra grip to his dick. He dug his fingers into the flesh of your ass massaging and squeezing it while he pummeled deep into you.

“You gonna let me cum in this fat ass of yours, y/n? Huh?” He ground out through gritted teeth, fucking you sonhard your booty jiggled and the desk creaked.

“Yes daddy. You-c-can cum-ahh~where-ever you-fuccck-want!” You managed back, throwing your ass back at him as best you could.

“God damn right I can. Fuck!” He sighed.

Dabi alternated between fucking you hard and rough and slow and deep. His hand landed against your ass again and again and again. The sting barely registered as anything other than pleasure.

“Fuck yes, fuck yes, fuck fuck FUCK! Don’t stop! Don’t stop. Don’t stop.” You gasped, drool drenching the desk where your mouth hung open.

“Got you baby-ah fuck! Don’t worry. Ima take care of you.” Dabi grunted back, eyes damn near closed in a mix of pure bliss and concentration.

The desk scraped as the force of your fuck session sent it sliding against the linoleum floors slightly. Neither of you stopped bucking and fucking.

If anything, you went harder. Dabi’s balls clapped your cunt with every stroke, and your ass jumped up to meet his pounding dick over and over until-

“AHAAA~”

“FUUUUCK!”

The two of you came so hard together it felt like you had ascended to another planet. Dabi Damn near collapsed on top of you. He pressed kisses against your curls and cooed about how amazing you felt. How amazing you were, as the two of you came down from your highs.

Finally, you were able to stand shakily to your feet—with Dabi’s help—and get dressed.

You sat back against the desk, panting and watching your very smug boyfriend pull on his shirt.

“I can’t believe we just did that.” You shook your head. “I knew you were trouble the day I met you.”

Dabi laughed. “Well, hey, if I’m so much trouble I could always come see you after class again.” He winked.

You threw a marker at his laughing face which he just barely dodged.w

“Shut the hell up and clean up my classroom.”

Still grinning Dabi leaned in for a kiss. “Yes ma’am, teacher.”

[bronan]

Tezz, 4 and 7

4. Fears

okay this is gonna sound corny af but short answer I think Tezz is afraid of being alone again. 

Super long answer: I think Tezz’s biggest fear, hands down, is growing attached to someone and then losing them. I’m sure he got so used to only relying on himself and not needing anybody else. Maybe it’s a little scary to think about getting close to others, now. I’m sure it’s really scary, actually. He probably didn’t even know where to begin. It just feels like child Tezz didn’t have any friends and maybe this experience with bf5 is his first real foray into friendship. 

so like imagine that you finally get rescued after being stuck on an alien moon for nine years right, you were there for so long it just became the new normal for you. You had zero human interaction but you had resources to study sentient culture - at that point, with so many formative years spent alone, don’t you think Tezz might feel more sentient than human?? Like of course he’s a human but maybe he tries to impose these restrictions on himself to act less so. Be practical, be logical, don’t be ruled by your feelings, etc. 

obviously he failed at that LMAO because Tezz is, in reality, a guy who you can tell yearns for companionship and who latches on so fiercely he would die for someone he barely knows because he decided he does care about them. I’m sure he didn’t see that coming, but we never really know how we’ll respond to a situation until we experience it firsthand. And I really enjoyed how human they made Tezz, after all. He could have been some cold, emotionless person who had to be taught how to smile at a joke, but Tezz is really a lonely 18 year old who has gone through some really rough shit and has been welcomed into this little family and accepted for who he is, snarky parts and all. He has a leader who always has his back and a team who will rally for him even when he drives them crazy because they know he’s been through a lot and they’re doing their best to have patience with him.

maybe Tezz never outright says it but I’m sure he’s deeply touched by that. He’s got to have some self-awareness and know that he’s abrasive at times, cocky, opinionated, rude. And he has a huge case of “I know best” which we know just always works with that team lmao. So really, for the team to be so patient with Tezz and willing to help him integrate back into society like... fucking well done kdsflssk it’s just so sweet honestly. They all kind of went back and forth and expressed their desire to kill him at least once I think but you had to dish it back to Tezz or else he’d walk all over you. Now they are one happy family and it’s all good and seeing Tezz’s growth in particular was so just mega wholesome and GOOD 

AND I WENT OFF TRACK AS ALWAYS KJSFKS every single time I get an ask about Tezz I just am like “let us now look back two hundred years to when it all started-”

ANYWAY

so taking all of that rambling I just did into consideration it’s like, Tezz just. I know he loves so fiercely. He tries to deny it, hide it, whatever, but he gets attached and he loves hard. He’d die for the ones he cares about. Didn’t he try to sacrifice himself without any hesitation in Rumble in the Jungle or whatever?? Like if Tezz genuinely likes you, you’re in, dude. 

So in summary that’s why I guess I just feel like Tezz would be so so so afraid of losing someone he’s grown to care about. He’s had everything taken away from him once already, and now he’s gained these friendships, this new life, these new opportunities and he has people who love him for who he is and I think the thought of losing any single one of them is like...inconceivable!! lmao.

And yeah I know I know a big part of Tezz always rushing off into reckless stuff was because he was cocky but your honor we can’t forget the times he went out of his way just to protect someone, it was king shit

of course this could all be absolute nonsense and I may just be talking out of my ass dsfsjfgjk 🥴 but I love the idea of Tezz with the big big heart who just doesn’t know what to do with himself when he loves someone except to offer up everything he has to make sure they’re safe. 

7. Travel

I feel like Tezz hadn’t traveled much beyond, you know, going into space from home, not until he joined bf5. Maybe he and his family took trips but with Tezz’s personality and interests, it seems like he would have been happy to stay at home where he could work on his experiments as often as possible. He was just a kid but man, he was focused, lol. Probably didn’t get out much or have any friends, one of those “all I need are my projects” kind of child. 

Now that he’s wild and free to roam the multiverse with his team, I think his curiosity can and does take him anywhere. I could see Tezz eagerly wanting to visit all kinds of planets and places in order to glean as much information as he could about the local flora/fauna, species, technology, etc, especially given how he’s working on a map of the multiverse. Now that Tezz is aware that there’s much more out there, he wants to see it all and to know it, understand it. It’s characters with that kind of insatiable curiosity that make great adventurers, you know? 😳

I feel that Tezz was desperately seeking the comfort of being home for a very long time, but he realized that home is wherever he feels it is and when he’s with bf5, he is home, so he can go anywhere with them. Okay I got really sappy sorry 🥺 I love tezz and so does the team

[when-to-sit-in-silence]

Ok ok... I read your lovers lake post just a few seconds ago, in which Joyce and Lonnie are already dating. Please give me another one like that in which Hopper questions Joyce about Lonnie trying to make sure Lonnie is being nice to her, not pressuring her into anything like sex or heavily drinking or whatever? Like idk why but that image of hop wanting to know if Lonnie is gentle enough with her is living rent free in my head?

Jim Hopper hits the brake and his car whines to a stop in the middle of the Hawkins High parking lot. A mid-March downpour rattles against the windows, obscuring his view out of the passenger side where a number of students rush down the walk on bikes or with umbrellas they were mindful enough to bring at the overcast beginning of the day. Among them, the figure that had made Hopper stop, shielding herself from the rain with a familiar bright yellow coat, turns her head at the sight of his car and meets his eyes through the window. 

Joyce. 

Hopper flickers his headlights, and after a moment of hesitation, she breaks from the flow of the crowd and opens the passager door of his car. 

“Sorry,” she mumbles, as she lets the rain in. Joyce drops her half-soaked book bag on the dash and sinks into the seat with a deep sigh. The door slams. Hopper watches her gather the coat into her lap, brushing damp strings of copper hair out of her face. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Hopper asks. 

“I’m sorry,” she repeats, a little louder, apparently remorseful that she is dripping all over the seat, but Hop shakes his head. 

“No, I mean why were you about to walk home? It’s pouring out.”

“Lonnie couldn’t drive me.” 

“Couldn’t?” 

“Can we get going? Why are we just sitting here?” Joyce demands. 

Pursing his lips, Hopper presses the gas and starts making his way out of the parking lot. Beside him, Joyce picks at her fingernails, chewing on the inside of her cheek. Her eyes are dim. Maybe it’s the rain clinging to her clothes and the fact that she’s shivering, but she looks small. And embarrassed. 

“Lonnie was here today, right?” Hopper asks. “I’m pretty sure I saw him during lunch. He go home early?”

“No.”

“He has plans?”

A beat. “No.”

“So, what, he though it’d be funny to let his girlfriend walk a mile home in a thunderstorm?”

“It’s not storming, don’t be overdramatic.” Joyce shifts in her seat and leans her face into her fist. “I can handle a little rain.” 

“A gentleman doesn’t let a lady get soaked if he can help it.”

“Oh, so you’re a gentleman, then?”

“More so than Lonnie.” 

Joyce exhales sharply, shutting her eyes. “We had a fight.”

“A fight?” There is an alarm going off in Hopper’s head, a familiar blaring, hair-raising alarm that always rings when Lonnie is around, like a siren, a warning sign. Hop has never liked him. The guy’s always come off as calculating and disingenuous and narcissistic, the type to think he’s doing everybody a favor just by being around. “What kind of fight?” 

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I am worried. What kind of fight?” 

“You know, what goes on in my relationship is none of your business, Jim Hopper,” Joyce growls. “Couples have their ups and downs. Wouldn’t you know? I don’t see Chrissy Carpenter anywhere.”

Hopper bites back an equally defensive reply, waiting for the sting of her words to pass. More than what she said, Hopper is bruised by the lash of her tone, cold and pointed like an icy wind that can take your breath away. After a moment, however, her rigid countenance softens. She looks defeated. 

“Look, I’m just saying,” Hopper murmurs following a minute of cool silence, “it’s cold, it’s raining, and it only takes a couple minutes to get you home, so whatever fight you had, it sounds bad enough for me to worry about it - as your friend.” 

“Lucky for me, my friend is able to drive me home, isn’t he? Lonnie knows I don’t need him.” 

“Oh, yeah? I sure hope he thinks you don’t need him. But you know what you’re really lucky for, Joyce, is that I saw you before you could stay out in the rain long enough to get yourself sick. You were going to walk anyway.” 

“Yeah, because I knew that when I asked you for a ride, you’d act insufferable, as always.”

“You sure you didn’t ask me for a ride because we haven’t actually talked in two months?”

“We’ve talked -”

“In bio. Not in, you know, real life.” 

“Hop.” 

“Joyce.”

“Knock it off.” 

As Hopper stops at an intersection, he gives a demonstrative shrug. “Fine. I’m done. Just trying to make sure he’s not treating you as shitty as he’s treating you today. Good to know I have nothing to worry about.” 

“You don’t.”

“Great.” 

“Great.” 

The next couple minutes are glassy pristine quiet and nothing less than torture.

But at last Hopper pulls in front of Joyce’s house. He expects her to launch herself out of his presence as swiftly as she can, shove the door closed with a resounding bang to punctuate just how great everything is. But although Joyce reaches for her book bag on the dash, although her fingers fasten around the door handle, she does not leave the car right away. 

Hopper stares at her. He has the urge to reach out, to set his hand on her shoulder, but before he can make up his mind to move, Joyce’s hand falls away from the door and she leans back into her seat. 

“Joyce?”

Her big, dark eyes turn on him, and his heart sinks to find them glistening with tears. “I - I’m sorry I haven’t spoken to you,” she says. “I didn’t realize how long it’s been.” 

Surprised, he gives a little shake of his head. “Oh - no, it’s fine.” He taps his fingers against the steering wheel. “Having a boyfriend must keep you busy. I’m sorry for being pushy there. I gotta learn when to lay off.” 

“Well, I’m glad that somebody cares that much. None of his friends do,” she grumbles bitterly. 

“What?”

“They don’t care. They were egging him on today, ‘Leave that bitch in the rain.’”

Hopper winces, shocked. Joyce bites her lip as she starts to cry, trying to shield her face from his view. 

“He was pissed I didn’t want to hang out with him on Saturday. It wasn’t even because of anything he did, I just - I just wanted to be alone. But he accused me of trying to avoid him or having something to hide, and he and his friends, they were all being such jerks about it. For no reason. ‘Teach that bitch a lesson’. Lonnie said, ‘If you don’t wanna be around me then you can walk home.’”

“Joyce,” Hopper says. He takes her arm. “That’s terrible.”

“He’s not usually like that, okay? I swear -”

“Joyce.” 

“It just this one time. So don’t go up to him tomorrow trying to defend my honor or some corny stupid shit like that -”

“Really? Is it really only this one time?” Hopper scowls when she doesn’t answer right away. Not wanting to overstep another boundary, he speaks low and slow, his grip on her arm gentle. “He doesn’t...he doesn’t hurt you, right?”

“Hop.”

“I just know that he and his buddies can get rough with each other sometimes. I wanna make sure they don’t - that he doesn’t - with you.” Hopper watches the rain splatter against the windshield. Joyce’s lack of a response to this troubles him deeply. She sits still, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. “Does he ever pressure you?”

“Pressure me?”

“He goes to a lot of parties. I know you go with him sometimes. He doesn’t make you drink too much or…anything else?”

“Hopper.” Joyce takes his hand. Finally, she meets his eyes, and the smile on her lips is so forced that it makes Hopper grimace. “One bad day, alright? One. Everything’s fine. He got it out of his system. He’ll be over it tomorrow, and it’ll all go back to normal.”

“Normal. That’s why you needed to tell me about it, huh? While crying?” he mumbles. 

“I’m okay. I did it for your sake,” she insists. This time, she does open the door, and this time she does slam it closed, but not before tossing a glance over her shoulder and saying, “See you in bio tomorrow.” 

Hopper lets her go. When Joyce disappears through her front door, he runs his hands across his face, sighing heavily, feeling nauseous. 

He hates Lonnie Byers with all his heart. 

[rawiswhore]

Val Venis x Fem Reader- “Cherry Poppin’ Daddy”

Back when the Twin Towers still were up, when there were hardly any anti-vaxxers and people didn't believe vaccination shots caused autism, and when what's now known as the WWE was known as the WWF, there was a certain pro wrestling star in the WWF known as Val Venis.

Maybe you've heard of him?

Val was one of the most notorious icons of the WWF's Attitude era of the late 90's, and what he always will be remembered for by far is a wrestler whose gimmick/character was a porn star who stole other people's girlfriends/wives and had sex with them, sometimes even making a porn movie with them.

That's part of the WWF's Attitude era in a nutshell.

If it wasn't dark, violent and didn't have people who were straight of out horror movies like Kane, the Undertaker and Mankind, then it was Jerry Springer show-like trash TV.

When Val was at the height of his wrestling popularity, before he cut his hair, put more clothes on and eventually protested what he used to play with that Right to Censor group, Val was cutting a promo that was both part promo and part porno.

This promo was in an empty hallway, with you stark naked and leaning your back against the wall.

The camera was filming Val above the waist, but not filming you...yet.

"Hellooooooooooooo, ladiessssss" Val greeted, looking at the camera and smiling that shit eating grin. "My latest flick is titled Cum...to Daddy"

The audience off camera laughed hearing the name of Val's new film.

There's a reason why there wasn't a title shown on television.

After he said that, he was walking over to the wall, where you're standing, the camera shifting to not just showing Val, but you as well.

You put your hands on Val's shoulders when he walked over to you, your arms shielding your nipples from being shown.

When the camera showed you topless, the audience, especially the male audience, got out of their seats and cheered, especially the men seeing a naked woman (though not showing her breasts).

Jerry Lawler was shrieking his throat out at the commentary table, though he's disappointed he isn't seeing any "puppies", which is Attitude era lingo for a woman's breasts.

Like Val, the camera was filming you above the waist, not below it.

When Val stopped walking once he was standing right in front of you, enough for your hands to reach out and hold him, he wrapped his arms around you, placing his hands at your back.

He looked at the camera, saying one of his typical sex jokes in that gravelly, rough by sly and smooth voice.

You were busy looking at him, your eyes looking up and down at him, checking him out.

After he said one of his typical sex joke, his head turned to you and looked at you, where you pulled him into you closer, until your lips and his lips crashed into one another.

His eyes closed when his lips touched yours, your eyes closed when you pulled him into you.

The two of you proceeded to kiss and make out with one another, which made the audience off screen get out of their seats and cheer.

Some men were roaring out "yyyyyyyeaaaaaaaaahhhh!!" and making those corny "wolf whistles" at you.

When you made out with Val, his lips were in between your lips, and vice versa.

The camera was zooming in on you and Val's sides of your faces kissing each other.

Val actually licked up your tongue and the camera caught that.

The women in the audience were shrieking and screaming over Val Frenching you, though they also want to ring your neck for making out with their man.

You're probably gonna get a lot of death threats and hate mail from those women.

Jerry Lawler, meanwhile, was shrieking on the commentary table, going nuts over you making out with Val.

He's jealous that you're making out with Val, not him.

One of your hands was behind Val's head, running your fingers down and through his hair.

Val wrapped his hands around you tighter, where he lifted you up from the floor, until your head was a few inches above him.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, and the camera zoomed out until the camera showed the side of your legs as well as his, showing you as well as Val's completely naked bodies except for some stiletto heels on your feet, Val wearing some black wrestling boots covering his feet.

The audience cheered and roared even louder when it showed your naked body as well as Val's, there's probably some men chanting "we want puppies!" but you can barely hear them.

"She's really naked!" Jerry Lawler shrieked on commentary.  

The camera eventually cut away from you and Val, much to the dismay of the horny audience.

A lot of Val Venis's films are named after things from current (at the time) pop culture, one of them being "The Preacher's Wife" being the name of a Christmas movie starring Whitney Houston and Denzel Washington.

In the 1990's, there was an electronica/techno/trance musician named Aphex Twin, maybe you've heard of him?

During the late 90's, Aphex Twin released perhaps their most famous song and music video, titled "Come to Daddy".

Val does kind of look like Aphex Twin's frontman Richard D. James, especially when he smiles and his eyes scrunch up.

Aphex Twin's biggest hit song was "Come to Daddy", even back then that was their biggest hit, and that song and music video was immensely popular.

Since "Come to Daddy" sounds a bit like a porno movie, even back in the 90's people called men "daddy" sexually (look at LL Cool J's "Doin' It" hit from 1995) and Val looks like Aphex Twin's Richard James, you came up with this idea for Val to be in a porn flick called "Cum To Daddy" and shared it with the WWF's creative staff.

'Tis a shame that Viscera didn't call himself Big Daddy V until the late 2000's, because Val could've called himself Big Daddy V at the height of his wrestling popularity, including in this promo.

If the Val Venis character came out today and the WWE wasn't rated PG (though, the USA Network wants the WWE to have more "adult content" now, not sexual adult content, but "violent and dark"), he'd be talking about eating ass, sexually choking people and have women calling him "daddy".

I've seen people online say that about if the Val Venis character came out today.

________________________________________________________________

The reason I didn't post a fanfic yesterday was because it was Christmas day, and even I don't post anything sexual on Christmas day (though, on my main blog, I did post a few people dressed scantily clad in Christmas gear).

I didn't even think of anything sexual on Christmas.

Hell, even when it was Thanksgiving, I didn't post any fanfiction on Thanksgiving day.

Though, I did think of typing some Christmas-themed fanfics and posting them on Christmas day, though they barely have anything to do with Christmas.

Back in 2017, I did ask someone to draw a naughty pic for me that was Christmas themed so I could post it on Christmas day on this blog...

[queenofthefallenangels]

My Knight Part 1/2

Jon Moxely X OC 

Requested by: @xladyxfatex​ 

Rated: M 

Warnings: smut and fluff 

Summary: Kenny takes his little sister, Ashlynn to one of his matches to try and cheer her up. Ashlynn goes with Riho and some of the other girls to a bar after the show. That’s where she meets one charming man. Too bad that man was exactly who her brother warned her against. 

I groaned as I got out of the car. It was amazing to go anywhere with my brother. My brother had taken me along to much different wrestling shows that he had performed with, all over the world.  This was different. It felt like he was inviting me as a pity trip. I knew mom and dad had tried to coax him into taking me out of town to cheer me up.  

“Come on, Ashlynn,” Kenny said smiling as he handed me my bag. We were at the hotel for the city he was wrestling in tomorrow night. “You love coming to my matches.” “I do. When there isn’t a hidden agenda behind it.” I sighed. “I know mom and dad made you do this because they are worried about me.” 

“Of course they are. I am too. You have been locked up in the house ever since.” He paused. “It’s not healthy.” “I am perfectly fine.” I rolled my eyes as I rolled my bag into the doors. I knew what he was talking about. The last few months of my life have been in pieces. My fiance left me for his boss, I lost my job which caused me to lose my house. To top it all off, my Yorkie passed away. It all came at once like a nasty hurricane, leaving nothing, but destruction in its path. I moved back in with my parents which is something at twenty-eight years old, I thought I would never do. I was miserable. I locked myself in my room for days. Just wishing that I wouldn't wake up.  I knew Kenny's niceness was only my parents trying to get me away from my Netflix binging. Which was probably a good thing. The office was even getting old after its thirtieth run through. 

"Ash, you aren't fine. We are all worried about you. We thought maybe if we left you alone that you would snap out of it. You haven’t.” 

I sighed, “Fine, but did you really have to make Riho take me out. That makes me look even worse.” Kenny raised an eyebrow, “I didn’t make her. She asked me if I thought it would be okay for you to go out with the rest of the girls on the rooster. I thought it would be a perfect thing for you to do. You need to get out with some girls and forget everything.” 

“To a bar... where I could get drunk...and met a boy? What kind of big brother are you?” She teased lightly. 

“No wrestlers,” Kenny warned. That was always Kenny one warning. He would tell me all these horror stories about them. How most of them were just looking to get laid to fill the need of being lonely on the road. A lot of them also had let the fame get to there and the fact that girls were practically begging to jump on their dicks. He never wanted me to become one of those girls that he sees. He said there was more to me. He said I could date any other kind of athlete, but he had just seen too many with wrestlers. I never dated much of either. I mainly date normal joes with normal nine to fives.  I still ended up getting hurt though. It didn’t seem to matter. “Especially Jon Moxely.” Kenny entered that pulled me away from his thoughts. 

“Why especially him?” I asked as I raised an eyebrow, crossing my arms tightly across my chest. I had no idea who he was even referring to. I hadn’t seen any of his shows since he joined AEW. I had really no intention as bad as that sounded. 

“He is no good. Just stay away.” Kenny’s voice was stern. I sighed as I nodded in agreement to stay away. 

---------

We went to the bar as soon as most of the girls were freed from the arena. Some of the male wrestlers had followed them as well though Riho had told her. Her English still wasn’t the best, so Brit and Brandi could have said something completely different and it didn’t fully translate. That or the boys just brought themselves. I didn’t care. I had no interest in any of them. I was too busy with a drink in my hand. It had been a while since I had alcohol which helped mend the fact that it had been a while since I was not used to being in crowds. I had hidden in my room for so long. This was the most I had other than going to the store. 

The problem with it being so long is that I wasn't as tolerant to alcohol as I used to be. I could feel how lightweight I was by the first beer. I didn't care though. Kenny wanted me to go out and have fun and this was definitely making it more fun. 

I was soon dancing on the dance floor with a couple of girls. I was actually enjoying it. Giggling with them. I had forgotten everything that happened these last few months. Kenny was right I needed this. 

Someone had to ruin my fun though. A guy soon came by and pressed his junk hard against me. I groaned as I turned around to see who the boy was. "Fuck off," I told him. "You aren't getting shit." I slurred him. I tried to smack him, but I stumbled a bit since he moved from it. 

"Feisty," he chuckled. "I like them feisty. Now, come on, I will give you a fun ride." He sneered at me. He grabbed my arm to pull me close to him. I tried to fight him off. It was no use. The man was stronger than me. 

"Hey!" Someone yelled from the back of the crowd as he moved forward. The voice was rough and husky. I turned to see a tall muscular man coming towards us. He had a short reddish-brown that you could tell was thinning at the top. He had a well-groomed beard. When I met his pale blue eyes it was like lighting between us. He grabbed the guy who had touched me by the collar. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you how to treat a lady, Sammy?” He asked. “If she says no that doesn’t mean force your tiny ass penis on her more?” He said as he pulled him away from me. “Hey, mind your damn business,” Sammy said as he pushed the man back. The other man stumbled back. A fight broke out between the two men. I was shocked. It had to be the tipsiness in me, but I couldn’t help, but think this was kinda hot. The man had gotten the upper hand on him. Sammy ran off into the crowd trying to fix himself from the embarrassment he just had. 

The man turned to me. I smiled slightly. I could feel my cheeks starting to get hot. “Thank you for that. I didn’t think he would leave me alone.” 

He shrugged. “He had it coming for being a disrespectful little prick. He doesn’t know how to treat a woman right.” 

“Well, thank you anyway, my knight, in shining armor.” She leaned up to kiss his cheek softly. 

He grinned, “I don’t know about that now. I am not much of a knight.” “Well, I would love to buy you a drink on me,” I said. As I moved towards the bar I could feel myself start to stumble on my own feet. 

“I think you have had enough to drink for tonight.” He said. “How about I get you home?” 

I looked around for any of the girls I had come with. I had lost them in the fight. Kenny would most likely kill me for going home with a random guy, but I had no idea where anyone else had gone. To be honest, I wasn’t looking that hard. I nodded, taking the hand that he moved out for me to take. 

“You never told me your name,” I mentioned as we got to his car. 

He opened the door for me, “Jon.” He got into the car. “What is yours?” 

“Ashlynn.” 

“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” He winked with a slight chuckle. “Where am I taking you?” 

I told him the hotel I was staying in. He smiled which confused me. “That is the same hotel I am staying in tonight.” 

“Mhm, maybe you were meant to come and save me, and be my brave knight.” 

“Are you always so corny?”  He laughed. I couldn’t help but love his laugh. 

“Maybe. I am pretty sure it’s just the alcohol. That and I haven’t exactly been around people a lot lately. I have been living in my own world after my world kind of came crumbling down. “I know that feeling.” He nodded. “This isn’t a pass at you or anything, but if you’d like I could take you up to your room and we could talk it out. Alcohol isn’t exactly a good way to deal with it.” I opened my mouth to say yes, but then I remembered that I was sharing a room with Kenny. He would be livid that I didn’t come back with Riho and that I got into the car with this strange man. He wouldn’t be so nice. “How about your room?” She asked. “Mine has my brother and I don’t think he will like some random guy from a bar in his room.” 

“Nah, and I don’t need to get into another fight because of you,” He winked teasing me. “Come on, I will help you sober up a bit.” He pulled into the parking lot outside the hotel. He got out of the car and ran over to open the door for me. I blushed a bit as he took my hand and walked with me into the hotel. It was nice to actually be getting some attention from a guy. Even before the break-up, my ex had been harsh and barely wanted to touch me. I could tell he was slipping away before it even happened. I had been naive enough to think that I could make it stop. 

Once we were in Jon’s room, he shut the door behind us. He handed me a glass of water. I started to drink it, noticing how thirsty I was once the liquid hit my lips. I could feel my mind clearing up as I drank the water. I started to feel more nervous being in a room with a guy I only knew by the first name. When alcohol was still clouding my mind, this seemed like an okay decision. Now, I wasn’t so sure. 

“I don’t think you should have sobered me up. I may run out of this room now before you get your way with me.” I teased to help calm my nerves and end the awkward silence between us. He shrugged out of his leather jacket, “Or maybe that was my plan all along.” He winked at me. My heart skipped when I saw him wink at me. He smiled at me with his dimples showing perfectly. How in the hell was a guy like this interested in her? He was built like someone you would find in a romance novel, not a guy you would actually meet in the bar. In her experience, most of those were missing teeth or had a few STDs on their lips. He had none of that. He was honestly the sexiest guy she had seen. She could see better now that she was out of the dim lights of the club. His white t-shirt hugged his biceps almost perfectly. He had never missed a leg day because even his jeans hugged him perfectly. No wonder he had never made a move yet. There was no way I could be his type. He needs a girl more like him. 

I wasn’t ugly or anything like that. I was just well, average. My brown hair which waved at the ends fell to my shoulders. I was slender with not much boobs or ass, but decent enough. I couldn’t twerk, but my ass looked somewhat good in jeans. I had a little to grab.  go My pale hazel eyes were the best-looking part about me. It was why I wore a lot of eye makeup to make them pop even more so guys would ignore the rest of me. 

Jon and I slowly began talking to fill the awkward silence in the air. It wasn’t anything that deep, but it was nice to just talk to someone and he was probably the easiest guy to talk to. He was so laid back in every single way and had some amazing stories. He had me laughing like crazy. He made me laugh so hard I snorted at one-pointed. I covered my mouth completely embarrassed. He laughed at me, only causing me to blush harder.  

“I am sorry, that was just cute.” He said as he reached for my hand. “You don’t need to feel embarrassed at all for me. I won’t judge you.” His words were so sincere that I felt like I could trust him. He leaned into her. “I also know I said I wouldn’t take advantage of you, so you can leave after I say this, but you are honestly the most beautiful girl. I am glad that I came to the bar tonight.” He leaned in more, closing most of the space between us. I couldn’t believe what was happening. His soft lips were soon against mine. He wrapped a hand on my waist, pulling me close. 

Now, the smart side of my brain was telling me that I needed to smack him in the face. I needed to tell him off and walk out of the room. Just because he saved you from one creep doesn’t mean he isn’t one himself. The other side of my brain was taking over though. I wanted to kiss him so badly. The smell of his cologne filling my nose.  I kissed back wrapping my arms around his neck. In that second, it became more heated between us. He licked my bottom lip as he begged for access which I happily gave to him. I allowed him to explore every inch of my mouth before I wrapped my tongue with his. He pulled me onto his lap making me straddle him. I could feel his already hard dick pressed hard against me. It's been so long that I had no willpower to fight it. I needed him. I needed this physical contact that I was unaware I even craved anymore. 

I rolled my hips across him. I could feel myself starting to soak through my underwear. I bit my lip trying to hold in a moan. He must have taken notice because he pushed himself up against my core. I gasped as I felt him brush against my clit. His eyes dark as he flipped me onto the bed laying me on my back. He kissed down my neck, dragging his teeth on it. He was sending chills down my spine as he went. Once he reached my shirt, he pulled it up. His warm hands cupping my breasts as they pushed passed my bra. His hands were rough against my soft skin. I didn't mind. It felt amazing. His lips met my stomach as he began to kiss it. He undid my pants with one hand yanking them down to my knees. He pushed my panties to the side and licked ever so lightly against my lips before he kissed down my thighs. He moved his face back to my core. I could feel his hot breath sending goosebumps up my body. I didn't know what he was waiting for, but the anticipation was killing me. I bucked my hips. "Please Jon, I want this," I begged softly. That seemed to be what he was waiting for. He pushed his head back in my heat and licked my lower lips. He spread me open with his fingers still licking long stride before he focused his attention on my clit. He licked circles around it making me buck my hips towards him. God, I wanted more. He wrapped his arm around my hips holding me down as he sucked my clit. He pulled it into his mouth and sucked before making a slight popping noise to release it. I tried my hardest to move it back towards him. I could tell he was loving teasing me. He licked around my hole before he dove into it. He licked in circles before he thrust in and outside. I threw my head back as I arched towards him. My hands fell to his head as I tried to make sure he couldn’t get away with pulling back and teasing me more. I could feel him smirking against me before he went back to work. It wasn’t long before my high was coming close. I was moaning his name like prayer as my pussy clenched around his tongue. He picked up the pace of his tongue and carried it on through as I came all over his face. 

As he pulled away, I saw him licking his lips. “You taste like heaven.” He smiled as he kissed me again. My hands went down to his jeans. I could feel that his dick begging for freedom. I undid his pants and pulled them down. My hands went to his chest as I pushed him onto the bed. He pulled his shirt over his head as he laid back. I couldn’t help, but pause to stare at his body. It was almost perfect. I ran my hand down his abs. He didn’t have to flex them for me to feel his abs perfectly. His V was outlined perfectly as I ran a finger down them.  I slowly kissed his chest before I moved to his V. It was a good thing that I was so lost in lust or I might be nervous about this. All I could think about was giving him the same pleasure that he had given me. 

I wrapped my lips around him as I slowly started to bob, swirling around my tongue around his base. I began to take more of him into my mouth. I, soon, pushed him all the way down my throat. He groaned as he wrapped his fingers through my hair. He thrust towards my mouth. I gagged. My first reaction was to pull off, but he held my head there for a bit longer. He pushed a couple more times down my throat before he released my head. He pulled me back up towards him. His blue eyes met mine. “Are you sure about this?” He asked me. I didn’t even have to think. I didn’t even respond with words. I just smirked as I slid on top of his dick. His hands landed onto my hips as I began to move them against him. We still hadn’t broken eye contact. I moved my hips faster as I began to bounce on him. He dug his nails into my hips as he thrust back up into me. I threw my head back as my eyes rolled back into my head. 

He flipped us over so that I was on my back. He hooked my legs putting them over my shoulders. He pushed back inside me. He started out slowly at first then he started on a brutal pace, going fast and deep.  I gripped the bed sheets as he moved in and out of me. I moaned loudly as I pushed my hips against him. It wasn’t long till I could feel my pussy clenching around him tightly as my high was getting close. He reached his hand over as he began to rub my clit. “Cum baby.” He said his voice was rougher than before. It forced me over the edge as I came all over his dick. He wasn’t far behind me as he pulled out suddenly cumming all over my stomach. 

He got up from the bed grabbing a towel as he carefully whipped my stomach off before cleaning himself off. I missed his warm cum on me, but it was soon replaced by his warm arms. I didn’t mind it. He held me close as he ran his fingers through my hair. It didn’t take me long before I was sound asleep. It was the easiest I had fallen asleep in days. 

--- 

I could hear a soft ring as I began to slowly open my eyes. My head was pounding in my head. I slowly opened my eyes and noticed I was in a hotel room, but it wasn't mine. The room was very similar, but the artwork gave it away til my eyes could see clearer. I could see my clothes on the floor mixed in with someone else. I looked over to the side of the bed to see a man sleeping next to me. In my drunken state last night, I had never put two and two together. Jon was actually Jon Moxley. The one Kenny told me to stay away from. 

As I looked at him with the sunlight coming through the window,  I felt bad for doing this, but if Kenny found out I was dead. I quickly grabbed my clothes throwing them on. I kissed his head before I headed out the door.

[athenril-of-kirkwall]

Hello! For DADWC, from Drabbles: 41. “I’m not drunk enough for this.”

Hello there! :)

Marzia Cadash, “The Herald’s Restlessness” (AO3)

Varric gingerly stepped over the threshold of The Herald’s Rest, lantern in hand, with Sera a couple of steps behind him as they approached the figure hunched over the bar, a lone candle providing all the illumination for the bottom floor of the tavern save for a few others hanging off the columns.

“Is she alive?”, Sera whispered into his ear harshly.

“Shh!”, he retorted. “I’m trying to hear for her breathing.”

Marzia Cadash, almighty Inquisitor and the Herald of Andraste for whom the tavern was named, slowly glanced at them, saying, “I can hear the two of you, you know.”

“Right, that’s me done, having fetched Skyhold’s counsellor,” Sera said, yawning performatively as she headed up the stairs. “Normally I’d love to chat with you lot but, it’s like, three hours before the sun’s up, yeah? I can barely get any sleep in this place when you’re all tearing the place up, you know.”

“All right,” Varric said to the empty space where Sera had been. “Just leave me to handle this all by myself, sure. Thanks for nothing.”

Her voice sounded from the second floor, shouting, “I snuck out the window to go fetch you and that’s the thanks I get?”

“Just go to bed!”, Varric shouted back, muttering to himself again, “Andraste’s sake, either sleep or don’t, just don’t try and have the last word all the time.”

“What’s this all about, then?”, Marzia asked as she turned around to face Varric. “I didn’t know there was a public enquiry out for me.”

“Nothing like that at all,” Varric answered, “Just that Sera noticed you were still here and in a state long after even Bull had packed up and left and, well, she didn’t want to come down the stairs to check if you were still breathing so she went all the way to the main keep to find me.”

“Why you?”, she asked, before clarifying, “Not that I meant—”

Varric shook his head as he drew up a barstool, saying, “Don’t worry yourself with it, Bashful. She, and half the people here, must figure that I’ve got the magic touch or somesuch. So, your Inquisitorialness, what’s troubling you?”

Marzia crossed her arms, saying, “Whatever makes you think that I’m in trouble?”

“Not that you’re, strictly speaking, in trouble, Your Worship,” he explained, “But you have to admit most reasonable people aren’t up at four in the morning at the bar, downing…”

He sniffed the air to identify her drink of choice as she picked her mug up to display it, saying, “Tea. The kind Solas despises. But yes, I’ve got a killer headache already, so I do appreciate your current volume.”

“Things must be pretty bad if you’re drinking Solas’ tea of all things, Marzia,” Varric said, finally addressing her by name. “I was thinking you were looking a bit morose even as the Chargers were coming this close to tearing down the whole place. You’ve done a great thing there—I think Bull’s feeling better than he has in ages, that’s for sure.”

Staring into the bottom of her mug, Marzia said, “I don’t know about that. Anyway, this is the first thing last night that…well, you can read it for yourself.”

Marzia took out a small scroll and handed it over to Varric who pored over it, picking out the most relevant parts of the note, mouthing, “Rainier freed from Val Royeaux, en route to Skyhold, arrive here tomorrow or…oh. Well…”

“…Shit,” she finished, taking it back from him. “Now you might understand why I’m not exactly overjoyed right now.”

Varric nodded, saying, “This would be rough on anyone, but especially you, seeing as well, the two of you weren’t trying to be subtle or anything. Still, maybe you want to get some rest so you’re fit to pass judgement once he gets here.”

Marzia suddenly pounded the table with her mug, arguing, “That’s the problem! Who in the world thinks I’m fit to judge him, given that we…oh, it’s such a mess, Varric! I should have just left him in that cell, but…”

“But you don’t mean that, do you?”, Varric gently asked. “And, well, you’re the one person who can judge him outside of whatever courts they have in Orlais, and that’s not really an option anymore, is it?”

Heaving a deep sigh, Marzia said, “No, you’re right. About both things. But…it’s insane, Varric! Everyone in the world is waiting on me for answers, but what am I?! I’ve just sunk our alliance with the Qunari, and what did I base my decisions on? Not being able to bring myself to watch Bull’s guys get slaughtered? I’m not fit to be choosing how the world’s going to go from here.”

“You say that,” Varric mused, “But sometimes the best decisions aren’t made by suppressing your gut feelings, they’re made with your heart…as corny as that sounds. Also anatomically confused, I realied. Besides, I know the qunari well enough to say that even if they’re grateful to you for their precious dreadnought, I’m actually a little relieved they’re not going to keep a presence over hereabouts. Call it personal prejudice, but that never sat all that well with me.”

“Personal prejudice?”, Marzia pressed.

“Yeah, well,” Varric said, “They can camp peacefully for a few years, and then try and tear the entire place to shreds, and still say they’re being morally consistent before and after. Maker knows how they’d justify coming down here as a permanent presence, you get what I’m saying? Even when they withdrew all their aid, they still left a knife for the Bull.”

“Maybe you’ve got a point,” Marzia said, scratching the back of her head. “But see, you could’ve made that decision with all that information! I wasn’t even thinking that hard!”

“And maybe you didn’t need to,” Varric countered. “You’ve got a great deal more wisdom than you’re giving yourself credit for, I think.”

“Really, now?”, Marzia asked back. “I…allowed myself to believe in our resident false Warden and even went to him for…comfort…and I’m still meant to judge him less than two days from now. What are people going to make of it?”

Idly looking for something over the counter for himself to drink, Varric said, “I genuinely think you’re being far too harsh on yourself for that. After all, Sister Nightingale was a veteran of the Blight and she didn’t put the pieces together all that long before we did.”

Sighing again, Marzia continued, “I don’t know where important people even get all this wisdom and judgement from, Varric. I wasn’t anyone important in the Carta, just someone sent to hit problems with a sword. Uncle Gavius always made the big decisions when it came to us…even here I’ve got Cullen, Josephine and Leliana to give me my options. When it came to the dreadnought or the Chargers, it was just me. And I chose based on…well, you already know. And then there was…”

Varric filled a mostly-clean tankard with something from the keg behind the bar, pausing halfway through his sip to ask, “There was what?”

“And then there’s Hawke…”

Silence reigned in the empty tavern as Varric slowly paced around the bar to sit by Marzia. Looking into his own mug, he downed a good quarter of it whilst considering his words.

“Is this what it’s about then?”, he asked carefully.

“Yes,” Marzia said, tears streaking down her face. “No. I don’t know, Varric. I’m sorry, but…I made the choice. I made a choice that hurt you, the one thing you wanted to avoid when you got caught up in this. I’m so sorry…”

Varric stared through the wall in front of him, finally saying, “No, I don’t think you did.”

Looking for something to wipe her eyes, she asked, “I didn’t what? Hurt you?”

He shook his head. “I don’t think that was your choice to make. I don’t know how much you remember from my account but Hawke’s brother, Carver, he owed his life to two Grey Wardens. One you’ve met, Ser Stroud, who’s reporting back to Weisshaupt this very moment.”

“And the other?”, Marzia asked, drying her eyes on her sleeve.

Varric let himself have a bitter laugh as he offered a cloth from his pockets. “The one who got us all into this mess. Well, the mess Part One anyway. Good old Blondie.”

“Anders? But didn’t she…”

“Funny way the world works, huh? She wound up falling in love with him during their time together in Kirkwall, and went along with all his grand plans and schemes until she realised where she was headed with them. And then…well, you know the rest, I believe.”

Mariza pressed her fingertips into her forehead, rubbing it in a bid to think harder. “But what does that have to do with…?”

“I’m getting to that,” Varric said in between sips of what had turned out to be ale. “It was Anders who brought a Carver who’d been Blighted to Stroud and the other Wardens to save him with the Joining, and that’s why he of all Wardens was Hawke’s contact. If Anders hadn’t known the way, and if Stroud hadn’t been able or willing to act, there wouldn’t be any Hawkes left in this world. Do you get it now?”

“I…so, when Stroud tried to give his life to cover our escape…”, Marzia said, trailing off.

“It wasn’t your choice to make, not really,” Varric said, continuing, “Hawke owed her brother’s life to two men, one of them she herself killed, and here was one volunteering to die for her sake. Well, I reckon she felt that didn’t have a choice either. It took me a long while to figure it out, but there it is.”

Silence hung in the air with that conclusion, until Marzia finally spoke up.

“So, what does that all come to? How do people make these choices? Or how don’t they make them?”

Varric looked over to her, saying, “Hell, you think I know? The best advice I can give you—and I’m speaking as someone who started drinking ale at four in the morning—is to make sure, for as long as possible, that you have a real choice and things aren’t taken out of your hands because by that point it’ll all be too late.”

Marzia blinked as she absorbed his worldly wisdom, saying, “You know, I think that almost makes sense.”

“Come on, it’s the best I can manage at this hour,” he said, “You want some actual advice? Go get some sleep. No good choices were ever made in taverns this early in the morning.”

“I’ll drink to that,” she said, clinking her mug against his.

-

@dadrunkwriting

[btsmutimagines]

Swiped

A/N: It’s 2020 and I still haven’t gotten my shit together but I wanted to write something for Hobi’s birthday... 

Word Count: 2.1K

You snuggled into your blankets, glad to be in your warm bed before you heard footsteps. Before you could react, your best friend was laying on top of you.

“Jesus, Mina, get off me!”

“Hm?”

“Off.” You repeated with a shove in her side which she recoiled in response. She got up, you let out a huff. Could you not have a moment of peace?!

“Come on, Y/N. You can’t hide in your bed all day.”

“I just got here.”

“Let’s go out tonight.”

“No.”

“Y/N!” She whined, tugging on your blankets and you held on for dear life.

“Mina, just go with Jihyo or Jiwon or Yoorim.”

“Jihyo’s with her boyfriend, Jiwon has her art meet and Yoorim is sick.”

“Lucky them.” You muttered under your breath, feeling a hard tug on your blankets again.

“Look, we could just swipe through Tinder and-”

“I’m not going on Tinder, Mina.”

“You can’t just hide from the world forever, you gotta put yourself out there. Plus, it’s ladies' night so free drinks, girl!”

“Fine but no Tinder.”

“Fine, you’ll just be my wing woman.” She hopped back on your bed, sitting next to you as you sat up to glance at her screen. The familiar flame appeared on screen before the home page, you noticed she had a few messages already and was swiping through a few.

“Isn’t he cute?”

“Yeah but why is he lip pouting like Kylie Jenner?” Mina giggled, swiping left on him and you watched as she liked a few before picking a guy the two of you could agree on.

“That’s the best line he could think of?”

“What? I think it’s cute.”

“‘Hey Mina, you must be what I’m searching for because you autocomplete me’ How corny.”

“You know how much I’m into puns. He’s a man after my heart.”

“And what’s the success rate of Tinder again?”

“Hey, don’t knock since you won’t try it.”

“Whatever.”

“Alright, get dressed. We got a bar to go!”

“Why do I let you convince me into stuff like this?”

                            ───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

You walked into the bar, linked arms with Mina as she scoped the room for her date and tugged your arm when she spotted him.

“There he is and he’s better looking in person.”

“That’s a first.” She elbowed you, you grinning cheekily as the two of your approached him.

“Seungwoo!” Mina said, the man looking over in your direction as the two of you stopped short in front of the table.

“M-Mina? And you brought a friend?”

“I hope you don’t mind, she need to get out the house. But don’t worry about it, she’ll do her own thing.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” He placed a hand out to shake to which you politely shook before sliding into the booth.

“Yoo Seungwoo.” Mina was in her flirty mode, grabbing Seungwoo’s attention while you sat next to them.

You found solace in your phone, scrolling through Instagram and seeing Yoorim on your feed.

Yeah, she was clearly so sick. What with all the smoke and alcohol around her, of course she was sick! You sarcastically thought to yourself, still liking her post as you scrolled past it. It felt endless, seeing people you know post pictures from the same party or making posts about missing whatever vacation they had last summer.

“Y/N?”

“Huh?”

“I’m going to dance a bit, don’t run out on me.”

“Yeah, sure.” You said, not looking away from your phone as she walked away with Seungwoo.

While tapping your fingers against the table, you began to watch people around the bar. A drunk group of friends were loudly rambling at the tv while the bartender cleaned up some glasses. You glanced at Mina and Seungwoo dancing with each other while Mina was laughing at something that was being whispered in her ear and other couples were dancing around them.

You were kind of glad it seemed to be going well for them, although you would never say that to Mina. She’ll never let you live that down.

You were kind of glad it seemed to be going well for them, although you would never say that to Mina. She’ll never let you live that down.

You leaned over on the table, crossing your arms and resting your head between as you watched the pair dance.

How come it was so easy for her? She’s always having fun, dancing around someone new and never been tied down to anything serious. She never hurts because she knows it’s temporary, there’s no commitment.

In your brief daze, you noticed they moved to making out with each other. Clearly in disregard to anyone around them.

Maybe it’s because you don’t have to search for a forever, maybe it’s okay to be ‘right now’.

You picked up your phone, opening it to the App Store and searching for the accursed app. It was a blur how fast it appeared on your home screen and you signed up, immediately seeing a face on your screen.

You began swiping through countless faces, a few that matched with you talked to you for a bit before you became disinterested and left it short.

Until you laid eyes on a face you knew all too well. Those same light brown hair, slightly parted to reveal his forehead. The same lips curled into a smile. Those same almond-shaped eyes with the distracting chocolate eyes.

Hoseok.

He was on here already? Is he nearby? The radius wasn’t set too far out and you shouldn’t be surprised. It’s not like he left the city just because the two of you broke up.

Right. He’s moving on and so should you. You were about to swipe left on him when a drunk woman bumped into your elbow, causing you to swipe right on him.

“No!”

“Shit, sorry girl.” She giggled as she walked away and you shot her retreating figure a glare. Mina and Seungwoo were walking to you, you trying to hide the fact you were actually on the stupid app.

“Missed us?”

“Not at all.”

“You’re so mean, Y/N.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Right, the reason we came over here!” She clapped her hands as if the thought came back to her by doing so.

“Me and Seungie were talking about this diner on the other side of town and-”

“It’s okay if you go, Mina. Just come home before 2.”

“Gosh, you’re the best wing woman ever.” She hopped in your lap, giving you a hug before she took Seungwoo’s hand. The two of them practically ran out of the bar, mostly Mina pulling him along and you sighed to yourself.

The sound of a notification went off and you unlocked your phone to see Hoseok matched with you and was typing.

Holy shi-

Hey.

What the hell do you say back to that? Do you just explain that it was all a mistake? And why is he so nonchalant about matching with you? You two are exes, not just a bunch of old friends.

I didn’t think I would see you here. You bit your lip, waiting for his reply and staring at your screen.

Neither did I

What?

Meant you were never the type to be looking for hookups.

I guess you don’t know me as well as you thought.

Y/N, you didn’t match with me to rehash the past, did you?

There he goes again. It’s the same old shit with him, everything is alright before someone starts pointing fingers.

Rehash the past? We broke up a month ago for your information, asshole! I should know better since you’re already on here looking for someone else.

Yeah and what about you, huh? Last time I checked this isn’t ‘Friender’

Maybe I needed an escape. But then I find you here. I didn’t match with you on purpose, it was a goddamn mistake. But I guess I’m not allowed to make mistakes either, right? I’m Miss Perfect, remember?

Y/N.

Let’s stop talking, that’s the way it was and should be.

You closed the app, turning off its notifications and walking over to the bar.

“Rough night.”

“Yeah, kind of.”

“Yeah, saw your friend run off with that dude a few minutes ago.”

“Lucky her, right.”

“If anything, sweetheart, you’re going to find someone that will hold you tight and never let go.”

“Thanks, I guess. A screwdriver, please.” You weren’t driving home anyways, it didn’t matter how many time you felt the same burning in your throat as you down glasses.

It felt like the more you drank, the less you remembered.

It was better to forget. Remembering hurts more.

Y/N.

Y/N.

Y/N, you need to wake up. You’re not dead, are you?

“Could you quit yapping? I’m trying to sleep.”

“Still as cranky as I remember.”

“Wait…” You opened your eyes, seeing Hoseok standing in front of you.

“What the fuck?! Did you kidnap me?”

“W-What, no. I’ve been messaging you and you wouldn’t answer and then this bartender was like ‘could you please come to get her’ so I did.”

“Why would you do that?”

“What, do you expect me to just leave your drunk ass alone? And Mina wasn’t answering my calls either. I brought you home instead.” That wrench. She’s totally getting it from you tomorrow.

“Then why are you still here?”

“Because you could choke on your vomit and I’m guessing you still want to live?”

“Job’s done. You can go now.”

“No ‘thank you, Hoseok for taking care even though you shouldn’t have’?”

“You really shouldn’t have, Hoseok.”

“But I did.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

“Don’t do that again. I don’t want you to get hurt or something…”

“Hoseok.”

“Why were you on Tinder anyway?”

“Why does it matter to you? Maybe it was the same reason as you.”

“Never thought you would look there, always thought you would go to those lame matchmaking parties.”

“Didn’t you used to do that?”

“Yeah, when I was desperate and before I met-”

“Anyways, it’s so nice for you to come by. It’s time for you to go.” You got up from the couch, putting your hands on his chest to give him a slight shove but he grabbed your hands.

“I wasn’t looking for anyone.” He held them to your side, letting go of them.

“What are you talking about now?”

“I mean at first I did but the more I kept matching with all kinds of girls, the more I realized that I wasn’t going to find you.”

“Hoseok, why are you-”

“Because I missed you. And I knew you wouldn’t answer me if I called or texted. But then you matched with me and I could feel the hurt you’re still holding onto when you typed.”

“It was a mistake.”

“Not to me. I wished that someway, somehow I would get my chance.”

“Hoseok.” Here he was, saying all the words you want to hear. Conveying all the emotions that you wish he would show if you met him again. But why? Why was your mind holding you back from the one who could make your heart race, your head spin and set your body ablaze with a mere touch of your hand?

“I’m scared.” You whispered into the empty air, knowing saying those words would only actualize the fear.

“Am I too. Can’t we be brave together?”

“You’re so cheesy.”

“Only for you.”

“God, knock it off.”

“Are you giving me a chance?”

“Come on, Y/N?” He began pouting and stomping a bit, gosh you almost forgot how easy it is for him to switch between serious and childish.

“Alright, fine.”

“Then it’s alright if I do this?”

“Hos-” He pulled in for a kiss, his familiar cherry lips overwhelm your senses with how soft his lips were. Were they always this soft? How could you not remember a sensation so mesmerizing as his plush lips?

It was shorter than you liked.

“I just really wanted to do that.”

“My turn.” You pulled him by his jacket, bringing the two of you close enough to kiss. Teasing him a bit with the slight brush of your lips before he pressed his arm around your back to lean you into him, your lips meeting his once again.

Again, you let yourself melt in the sweet tangy kiss he shared with you. The comfort of his broad arms wrapped around you right was an irreplaceable feeling that you could muster up enough words to describe how good it felt to be like this again.

“I love you.”

[11likeswritingfanfiction]

Two Blokes and A Tree

Summary:

Schofield x Blake

During a war, two lovers try to make the most things until the end. Length, 3K.

Contains: Smut, Angst and lots of it, Fluffy Moments and Banter, and of course, character death.

Notes:

A commission from a dear who introduced me to 1917 and I am a fan! You can also commission me! Just shoot me an inquiry to thebittermelon98@icloud.com

READ ON AO3

“I’m going to make a mess of you.” Blake laughs, perhaps sounding melodic to Schofield’s ears. The lad, a blue-eyed dark-haired bloke with his back to him, threw his shirt to him, landing on Schofield’s face.

“I love to see you accomplish such a feat.” Blake purrs in reply, gently stroking his jaw. His skin was smooth, youthful and bright.  His bedroom eye, adorned with thick, dark lashes stared at him with arousal. Teasing Schofield became quite a game for Blake—he loved getting riled since it paid off so well.

“I’ll make you eat those words.” With a tease, he kisses him, knocking him against the tree behind. The air was a bit cool, fog danced in the air as the two lovers clicked teeth. With his thumb rubbing his lips after they pulled apart, he smiles at the light-eyed youth.

Schofield swallows, feeling Blake’s hard length pressed against his--grinding with an ill-intent, wanting to drive him mad.  He grabbed Blake’s dark locks, yanking them back as he lapped at Blake’s exposed neck. Sucking, kissing, marking the boy as his for his own insurance.

After seeing red, flesh splotches appear, Schofield grins--this time kissing him ruefully, unbuckling Blake’s pants to the sight of white briefs.  His pale legs had a slight blush to them. Schofield’s slender yet tough finger up those pale thighs to his bulging package.

“On your need, soldier.” Blake rolls his eyes at the corny display but turns around, dropping his knees.

“For talking so much, you seem so hard for me. Haven’t had a wank in a while, have you?” Schofield says, his head in the crook of Blake’s shoulder, His hand drifted to his front, giving it a slow, determined stroke. His finger brushes against Blake’s plush lips, as if to ask for entrance--his spit drips out, his teeth nipping as the digits. After he’s satisfied with the slickness of the lubrication being enough, he sinks a finger in, past his sphincter.

“...because you do the best.” Schofield grins at the words, deciding to simply implore him.

“You who?” he added another finger, rubbing against his soft walls. Blake doesn’t say anything, not yet at least. It’s only when Schofield rubs the tip of his slick head does he answer honestly.

It was pretty cute.

“Y-You do it best, Daddy.”

“How do you want Daddy to fuck you?” Schofield’s on the third finger, Blake’s practically a sobbing mess under him. His knees buckled, he knew if Schofield continued with this deliberate action that he’d climax far too early.

“On my knees, Daddy--fuck me on my knees.” “ And as he so nicely asked, Schofield did so, sinking his nails into his hips. Feeling that he was completely buried in his flesh, rolling his hips from the base back to the entrance.

Blake lets a rough groan, clawing at the ground below him. Schofield picks up his pace, knowing his lover shouldn’t be satisfied with that alone. Slamming himself against his reddening behind, his hand holding his back so he could be fully immersed.

And then, there’s a voice.

“Who goes there?” A voice—a deeper, older masculine voice said—the two boys froze.

“We’re going to get caught—” Blake puts his hand on top of Schofield’s saying, “Oh, quiet you! Just stay quiet.” The feeling of being watched did excite a bit as he ground against the thick, sweeping cock inside of him—he listened to Schofield’s gasping breath with satisfaction before pulling away from him with a pop.

“Who’s there!” The two of them looked at the direction of the voice, waiting for it and the footsteps that followed to pass by them. After that, they fumbled with their clothes before breaking out in sprints—laughing to their heart’s content as they made it to the open field full of flowers and lush green grass. It was early morning, possibly past midnight and they collapsed against a tree.

The sound of birds chirping surrounded the two men who held each other--the rumble of thunder followed, but every so briefly leaving as it arrived. The landscape around them was tranquil despite the turbulence of the times---to the two young men, they were the only ones there; content in their own little world.

Schofield woke up first, groggily, sniffling a chuckle at the younger man cuddled up against him. He looked like an angel with his eyes closed, the exact opposite of his usual cheeky self. His hands ruddle his soft hair, the air of intimacy as thick as the fog around them.

“Blake.” A voice says--Sergeant Sanders--his voice, powerful, unamused as he watches the Tom stays still, unbothered by the authority figure.

“Blake!” Blake as he’s known to his superiors--jolts awake, his uniform damp with dew, his big, blue eyes alert.

“Sorry, Sarge.” Was his sleepy reply, Schofield bites his bottom lip to keep from laughing.

“Pick a man, bring your kit.”

“Yes, Sarge.” Blake peels himself from Schofield, standing erect as if coming back to life. Despite being quite aware of the things happening around him, stays quiet with his eyes shut. With the Sergeant out of sight, Blake bends down and gives his man a quick peck of the forehead, grasping his slightly prickly face. His touch is gentle, a soft, generous caress--after a beat Schofield’s eyes flutter open, locking onto Blake’s rose-colored gaze--yet Schofield knew this nativity was a ruse, the young man knew what he was doing to him and reveled in it.

“I see you’re very alive and well.” He momentarily grasping his crotch, winking at him.

“You brazen, brazen little lad,” Schofield says in a voice, only low enough for Blake hear--who in turn gives him a grin that makes his heart skip a beat. Schofield, in turn, gives his behind a generous squeeze--this one was, however, different from Blake’s--this action was establishing that he wasn’t going to take it lying down. A bit taller than his he turns, his breath hot in his ears, nipping at the lobes.

“Your arse is mine, although I thought I proved it last night”

“No, really say it again, Schofield.”

The shit smile of a mouthy angel.

The two lovers begrudgingly followed Sanders with the latter ordering them not to “dawdle.”

“No, Sarge.”

They, amongst others, spent their days intimate with the grime and muck, and currently entrapped in slumber.

“Did they feed us?” Blake inquires. Schofield frowns and hands him something, envelopes, full of mail from his family and friends.

“No, just mail.”

Despite the slight disappointment, Blake opens the envelope elated, reading the contents while they strolled, his smile filling with warmth.

“Myrtle’s having puppies.” Schofield grins at his own elation--

“You get anything?”

“No.”--even if he didn’t get anything from his own family, he was more than glad to be with him.

By then during their chat, the fire was lit, meaning salvation to Blake’s hunger was on the way.

“I’m bloody starving, aren’t you? I thought we might get some decent grub out here - only reason I decided against the priesthood.” Schofield lets out a breathy laugh while his boy glances around as if he wanted to devour everything in sight.

“I know something I’d like to devour right now.” When blake turns to him in confusion, he manages to steal a peck on his cheek. He dug into his pockets, looking for food his stashed goodies.

“What you got there?”

“Ham and bread.”

“Where did you find that?”

“I have my uses.”

They sneak off, for better or for worse, passing into the trenches. The bread is stale, Blake makes a face as he bites into it.

“Tastes like an old shoe.”

“Cheer up. This time next week it’ll be chicken dinner."

The trench drops deeper and deeper, Blake takes Schofield’s arm, as they continue their chat.

“Not me. Leave got cancelled.”

“They say, why?”

“No idea.”

They are completely underground, the sky cannot be seen--they were detached from the world above them. They stood in each other’s company, with the Sergeant’s back to them, holding hands.

“It’s easier not to go back at all,” Schofield says, perhaps a bit rash. The pair pass soldiers doing various duties--moving crates and various cooking and medical supplies.

“Something’s up,” Blake says, pausing for a minute.

“...did you hear anything?”

“Has to be the push, right?”

He continues. Again, soldiers move past them, pushing, and again Black watches.

“Ten bob says we’re going up.”

“I’m not taking that bet.”

“Why? ‘Cos you know I’m right?”

“No, ‘cos I know that you bet with your bum and not your bob.” Schofield chuckles, rubbing his shoulder after Blake gives him a playful punch.

“I can’t wait for all of this to be over.” Blake looks at him, holding his hands tightly. Their blue eyes seemed to have danced with at each-other glancing around sharing a quick peck--heart beating madly, cheeks flushed.

“All of us coming out here alive would be a feat.”

“If we do--”

“--When we do survive--we when we do, we should go on holiday, somewhere far,” Blake says with a hum--Schofield looks at him, almost dazed, lovingly bringing his hand to his lips gazing them ever so slightly.

“In your own time, gentlemen...”

They follow Sanders, kicking up speed.

“Is there news, Sarge?” Blake asks.

“News of what?”

“The big push. It was supposed to happen weeks ago. They told us we’d be home by Christmas.” Schofield’s hand tightens around Blakes as he speaks.

“Yes, well, sorry to disrupt your crowded schedule, Blake, but the Brass Hats didn’t fancy it in the snow.” The sergeant replies, sarcastically.

“More’s the pity, Sarge, I could have done with some turkey.”

“Well, I’ll make sure to relay your displeasure to command.” Running through wires, set there for communication, the conversation resumes.

“So what’s on the cards then, Sergeant?” Schofield this time inquires-- turns around and with that their entwined hands drop.

“The Hun are up to something.”

“Any idea what?”

“No - but it’s bound to ruin our weekend.”

They approach a dugout.

“Now listen, Erinmore is inside, so tidy yourselves up.” The two young men are wide-eyed, anxious.

“You never know - might be mentioned in dispatches for this one, if you don’t bugger it up.”

The look he gives is worrisome as he seems to have gone deeper into the dugout.

The young men tidy themselves as much as they can--Blake leans into Schofield, looking quite nervous.

“Must be something big if the General’s here.”

Schofield wants to reassure him--to tell him that things couldn’t have gotten too sire. However, he seemed to believe less and less in his own thoughts as they approached the dimly-lit area with their guns raised. A feeling of unease and uncertainty was thick in the air with their nerves so high.

After seeing their superiors sitting at a table, whispering didn’t put them more at ease.

“Lance Corporals Blake and Schofield, Sir.”

General Erinmore shifts his attention to the two young soldiers, his gaze lingering. There’s the sight of pure authority in his demeanor, even as he questions them.

“Which one of you is Blake?”

“Sir,” Blake replies.

“You have a brother, a Lieutenant in the 2nd Devons?” His eyes glimmered.

“Yes, sir. Joseph Blake. Is he--”

“Alive, as far as I know. And with your help, I’d like to keep it that way.”

Blake’s eyes held a bit of suspicion. After a few minutes of speaking, a conversation which included Blake’s map-reading abilities. The talk came at a standstill when Erinmore dropped a bombshell.

“Germans have gone. Don’t get your hopes up. It appears to be a strategic withdrawal. They seem to have created a new line, nine miles back here, by the looks of it.” His eyes seemed to bore into theirs as his grave voice spoke with careful authority.

“Your orders are to get to the 2nd at Croisilles Wood, one mile southeast of the town of Ecoust. Deliver this to Colonel Mackenzie. It is a direct order to call off tomorrow morning’s attack.”

Schofield and Blake understood the severity of the situation.

Erinmore hands Blake an envelope, one of importance.

“Deliver this to Colonel Mackenzie. It is a direct order to call off tomorrow morning’s attack. If you don’t, it will be a massacre. We would lose two battalions. Sixteen hundred men, your brother among them.”

Schofield reels in being absolutely gobsmacked while Blake was quiet and with the absolute understanding lingering on his expression. He was much better with things like these--that’s why Schofield loved him. He was strong in a lot of ways that Schofield wasn’t.

“Map, torches, grenades, and a couple of little treats. Leave immediately, take this trench west, up on Sauchiehall Street, then northwest on Paradise Alley at the front. Continue along the front line until you find the Yorks. Give this note to Major Stevenson. He’s holding the line at the shortest span of No Man’s Land. You’ll cross there.”

Schofield’s eyes bulged saying and a voice clearly unnerved, “It will be daylight, Sir. They’ll see us.”

“No need to be concerned. You should meet no resistance.”

With a further charm of “good luck”, the young soldiers armed themselves once again, this time exposed by the daylight they encounter.

“Blake - let’s talk about this for a minute.”

“Why?” He was already racing, going at an impressive pace.

“Just need to think about it for comment--shouldn’t we wait till dark.”

“There’s nothing to think about. It’s my big brother. Erinmore said to leave immediately. You heard him. He said the Boche have gone.”

“Is that why he gave us grenades?” Schofield jogged up to him, grabbing his hand--almost with a pleading,

“All I’m saying is that we should wait.”

Blake frowns.

“Yes, you would say that, because it’s not your brother, is it?”

“Look, the last time I was told the Germans were gone, it didn’t end well.”

The young, blue-eyed man pushes past him, and he further pleads with him.

“You don’t know, Blake, you weren’t there. I’m worried about you.” He seems to stop, looking at him with watery eyes.

“Are you speaking as my comrade or as my man?” Schofield doesn’t say anything, just blindly following the younger man, They rush against traffic, even being reprimanded by a passing sergeant.

“Alright, say the Boche have gone. Nine miles will take us, what, six hours? Eight at the very most. So we’ve got time to wait until the sunsets. Otherwise, we’ll be wide open, Blake.”

“It’s enemy territory, we’ve got no idea what we’re walking into--”

“Think about this, you bloke! Blake, if we’re not clever about this, no one will get to your brother.”

“I will.” With that, the conversation ends, as well as Schofield trying to persuade him.

“I just want you to stay safe,” Schofield whispered to say as he followed his trudging figure, approaching uncertainty.

“I love you, Schofield,”

“Don’t...don’t you tell me that like those are your last words. You have to try to keep moving, yeah?”

“Let’s just sit... let me sit.”

“...you can start on without me. I’ll catch up.”

“We can’t. We have to find the 2nd. Remember? Your brother. We have to go now...”

After some time, what they’re met with hinders to the two lovers direly.

Blake’s stare turns glassy as he looks up at Schofield.

“You can’t stay here. We have to move, alright? We have to move. Come on. Come on. That’s it. Come on, come on old man, you can make it.”

Fear, dread. Disbelief.

“Your brother. We have to find your brother, remember? You can make it.”

Blake’s breath is slow. Schofield feels tears stinging his eyes. His breath shallow as well.

“You’ll recognize him. Looks like me...a bit older.”

Schofield holds his head up, almost helplessly as he looks around. They both watched as embers floated in the air.

“What are they? Are we being shelled?”

“No....they’re embers, the barn is on fire.”

Blake’s eyes widened and squinted soon after he winced.

“I’ve been hit...haven’t I. What was it?”

They’re both aware that they were ambushed.

Blake protected him, taking a knife for him. Flabbergasted, the young man feels around, finally finding Schofield’s had trying to stop his wound from bleeding too much. Schofield uses his free hand to wipe away the blood on his lips. His breath comes in quiet gasps.

“Am I dying?”

“Yes, I think you are...but we can pretend like you’re just sleeping."

Blake quietly laughs, making Schofield smile through tears.

“I wish that that was true.”

“Why did you take the knife for me anyways? Now I’m going to be alone again.” His voice breaks up with tears, hoping that he could once try to save his life.

However, it was all but a fleeting dream for the two men.

There’s a muffled rustling--Schofield is handed a wallet from Blake, asking him for something from it. inside the contents held letters, probably from his family and more importantly, a picture of  Blake, smiling with an older woman and a man around their age. He takes the photo, putting it in his hand silently

“Will you write to my mum for me?” Schofield gives her a smile and a nod, now cradling his face. He slowly let go of the hold he had on his wound, and instead of taking his hand.

“Tell her I wasn’t scared.” With every breath, he slips away faster and faster.

“Anything else you want me to say?”

“I love them...I wish that... I wish...” Schofield breaks out in a sob, holding his cooling body close to him.

“Talk to me. Tell me you love me, tell me you know the way.”

“...I love you....more than I’ve ever loved a person. And uh, the way...I know it.”

Blake waits, giving him a small smile as he listens to him continue.

“I’m going to head southeast until I hit Ecoust. I’ll pass through the town and out to the east, all the way to Croisilles Wood.”

“It’ll be dark by then,” Blake replies, his voice almost a whisper. Schofield looks down at him, his eyelashes hiding his grieve-stricken baby blue eyes.

“That won’t bother me... I’ll find the 2nd, I’ll give them the message, and then I’ll find your brother. Just like you...”

Schofield, still cradling his head, kisses him.

“Just a little older like you said.”

[obsessivelollipoplalala]

Queen 30 Day Challenge: Day 29

Five favorite things about Queen

Oh boy, that’s hard to narrow down.

1. The music. Duh. I love how they never give two shits with their music. They did whatever the fuck they wanted, and some times worked better than others, but hey. They had balls. As John said a few times, they were four individual with different styles, but they were able to come together and still have a “Queen” sound.

2. The attitude. I mentioned this above, but you gotta respect how they didn’t care what anyone else thought. Freddie, in particular, had a vision for what he wanted this band to be from the beginning, and he wasn’t going to let anything stand in his way to make his fantasy reality. The dedication to being themselves is admirable. I also love how they openly gave the finger to critics and didn’t care. Go big or go home.

3. The skill. This might sound weird, but does it ever hit you just how fucking good they were/are at playing instruments? Something I’ve seen from YT videos of people reacting to Queen songs for the first time is the sentiment like, “wow, it’s amazing to see them really playing those instruments when today’s music is all synthesized and fake.” I’m not versed enough in contemporary music to agree or disagree, but it’s definitely impressive to sit back and watch videos of them performing because, yeah! They were truly masters at what they did and I love people just being great at their craft.

4. Their support of Freddie. I love that Freddie was wild on stage and would wear outfits ranging from tri-colored jumpsuits and ballet slippers to tight booty shirts, and they were like “yep! :)” I love that Freddie would be all over Brian in performances and he’d be like “haha that’s our Freddie :)” and he’d go over to Roger and he’d give the biggest smile to Freddie. He was just....ridiculous! He was absolutely ridiculous. It 10000% worked, but you can see why other people would be like “ehhh tone it down.” But no, they trusted him to be the charismatic performer he was. And then when he came out, they supported him. Obviously, anything otherwise would be prejudiced, but I remember in Jim’s book when he said he met the guys for the first time, they were all immediately friendly to him. That’s cute! They were like “oh here’s Freddie’s new boyfriend :)” and they never ever made Freddie’s sexuality an issue. In fact, Brian and Roger were the ones defending him from the terrible press that blamed Freddie for his death due to his “lifestyle.” They wouldn’t let anyone get away with talking shit about Freddie, and they were very protective of him while he was ill. This goes into...

5. Their love for each other. It might sound corny, but it’s true! These guys stuck together for over two decades, basically half of their lives, even through harsh times when they argued intensely about which direction they wanted the band to go. Through the tumultuous life of being rock stars in the 70s and 80s, they never broke up. They supported each other’s solo work but always came back to the Mothership. It’s really sweet reading about how Freddie looked up to Brian and Roger so much when they were in Smile, and in later years, hearing Brian praise the others in interviews. They all, despite everything, respected each other as musicians and as people. I remember Brian talking about when they’d go on the road, and they weren’t always nice to each other, but they were like a family or a marriage on the road. I also love that towards the end, they decided to credit each song to Queen, so they would all get equal money from royalties. They only got more unified with time, after their rough period in the early 80s, and a lot of bands can’t say that. tl;dr we stan four guys in their 20s who had big dreams and took on the world and became brothers along the way.

[nightwving]

i was tagged by @mollyweasly​ to answer these questions, tysm!! i did most of them the other night but got distracted and am posting them now lmao

1. on a scale of 1-10, how excited are you about life right now? idk, i’ll say maybe a 7 or so? honestly i’m feeling pretty decent for the first time in a while

2. describe yourself in a hashtag? #ohfuck

3. if you could do a love scene with anyone, who would it be? that’s tough... i would never want to actually subject anyone to the horror or doing that with me, but i guess either tom holland or sebastian stan??

4. if your life was a musical, what would the marquee say? “a juxtaposed comedic disaster”

5. what’s one thing people don’t know about you? shit man i usually overshare pretty much everything, but i guess one thing would be that i got hit straight in the head by a golf ball while on a course with my parents when i was in middle school?? it came from way far out but miraculously didn’t seem to crack my skull or give me too bad of a concussion. my dad said it hit so hard that it sounded like it hit the pavement. now i have severe anxiety near golf courses and when things are flying near my head in general lmfao

6. what’s your wake up ritual? i check my phone real quick and then immediately go to pee and brush my teeth. depending on the day and whether or not i’d be late for class back when things were normal, i might shower lol. then either get dressed real quick and go to class or, these days, play video games or get on my computer

7. what’s your go to bed ritual? i’ll usually wrap up whatever i’m doing, make sure my fan is on, lock my door (when i’m at school), strip, take some melatonin, lay down, set my alarm, plug in and then get on my phone for a while until i (hopefully) get sleepy

8. what’s your favorite time of day? i love the evening around sunset or so but i also just love the night in general, especially when things get quiet in the am

9. your go to for having a good laugh? tiktok

10. dream country to visit? ummm... honestly canada 😂 or germany or something

11. what’s the biggest surprise you’ve ever had? last spring i spontaneously won an award in the department that i work for at school because my friends insisted that i get one for all the work i do on the newspaper and for my work study and stuff. they had to work some stuff around because i’m not actually a major and that’s who the awards are for, but they all agreed to give it to me at the ceremony and i was NOT expecting it whatsoever. it was one of the most amazing moments ever especially since i struggle with finding a niche and having faith in myself

12. heels or flats/sneakers? sneakers!!

13. vintage or new? i love vintage but that shit can be hard for me to find

14. who do you want to write your obituary? probably a friend idk i feel like my family would say some dumb corny shit lmao

15. style icon? i have quite a few but slash or duff mckagan from 80s GNR would be a couple ok don’t judge me. and john bender from the breakfast club

16. what are three things you cannot live without? internet, my ps4, and friends

17. what’s one ingredient you put in everything? chili or garlic powder

18. what 3 people living or dead would you want to make dinner for? i don’t even make dinner for myself lmao but if i really had the motivation, probs stan lee, carrie fisher, and my tiny son josh bassett

19. what’s your biggest fear in life? being institutionalized against my will and/or death before i’m ready/feel like i’ve done something worthwhile.

20. window or aisle seat? depends tbh

21. what’s your current tv obsession? i’m not really on a kick with it right now, but i’m slowly making my way through the clone wars in chronological order.

22. favorite app? tiktok

23. secret talent? uhh... i guess a lot of people would assume that i’m not athletic because of my weight but i’m actually naturally pretty sporty and can still be when i really feel like it

24. most adventurous thing you’ve ever done in your life? well i’ve tried to summon spirits in multiple different places, attempted to break into an asylum with my ex, done a pregnancy test with an old friend in a burger king bathroom... idk if those count as “adventurous” but that’s about all i got as of right now in my life

25. how would you define yourself in three words? eclectic, resilient, and real

26. favorite piece of clothing you own? my denim jacket

27. a must have clothing item that everyone should have? also denim jacket lol

28. a superpower you would want? i debate this often... i think shapeshifting would be cool but also telekinesis

29. what’s inspiring you in life right now? movies and stuff i guess

30. best piece of advice you’ve received? probably that it’s okay to do things at your own pace and to not be so hard on yourself when you aren’t doing things the same way as others

31. best advice you’d give your teenage self? wear some better fuckin clothes lmao

32. a book everyone should read? bruh idk i don’t really read anymore, harry potter i guess 😂

33. what would you like to be remembered for? being honest and real but also someone that would’ve been there for you, or to have a good laugh with

34. how do you define beauty? beauty is like something that fills you with wonder and a sense of life or something

35. what do you love most about your body? uh... i have nice legs i guess 😂

36. best way to take a rest/decompress? find something that distracts you and makes you forget about all the shit. get lost in another world in movies/music/etc or just laugh with someone about anything

37. favorite place to view art? i like seeing it in the studios at school when people are still working on it

38. if your life was a song, what would the title be? “somethin’ else”

39. if you could master one instrument, what would it be? ugh i would love to be a full blow pianist but i ain’t got the patience for that. i made it through a few periods of lessons throughout my life and three classes in college but i don’t have the capacity to do more than that. but i would also love to get even better with my voice. i’ve been taking classical lessons for the past couple of years but quit recently because of the anxiety that studio recitals and master classes give me. music major shit is rough

40. if you had a tattoo, where would it be? i have one janky one behind my right ear that i got when i was 16, it’s a bird. but if i wasn’t a fatass bitch, i’d like to get more in different places on my body

41. dolphins or koalas? dolphins

42. what’s your spirit animal? it used to be a coyote according to a quiz years ago lol but it’s probably something different now

43. best gift you’ve ever received? probs my shitty first car that my dad got me last summer. but it’s a hell of a lot better than nothing

44. best gift you’ve given? shit i can’t even remember. i love doing personal little gifts for my friends. ACTUALLY i’d probably say the playlist i made for my friend last christmas because listening to music late at night was our thing

45. what’s your favorite board game? secret hitler is the BOMB

46. what’s your favorite color? yellow

47. least favorite color? probs brown

48. diamond or pearls? diamonds

49. drugstore makeup or designer? drugstore bitch, i’m broke

50. blow-dry or air-dry? air dry preferably but i’ll blow dry if i need to

51. pilates or yoga? neither lmao

52. coffee or tea? coffee unless it’s sweet tea

53. what’s the weirdest word in the english language? all of them

54. dark chocolate or milk chocolate? dark

55. stairs or elevators? elevators bih i got bad knees

56. summer or winter? winter, FUCK the sun

57. you are stuck on an island, you can pick one food to eat forever without getting tired of it, what would you eat? potatoes

58. a dessert you don’t like? a lot of things, i eat like a picky five year old. but i don’t like anything minty

59. a skill you’re working on mastering? singing. but also design-y stuff and videography

60. best thing to happen to you today? i went on a short walk with my mom earlier and there’s always a man across the street from us who sits on his porch every evening and sings with his guitar. i love it

61. worst thing to happen to you today? sitting through my zoom class lmao

62. best compliment you’ve ever received? idk, just when someone has generally called me beautiful? that makes me feel really nice

63. favorite smell? i love the smell of cookies or brownies in the oven. i’m also weird af and love strange things like basement smell and gasoline. also sharpies

64. hugs or kisses? hugs probably

65. if you made a documentary, would it be about? idk probably something about a niche community/town or some cult-y shit

66. last piece of content you consumed that made you cry? avengers: endgame

67. lipstick or lipgloss? i don’t usually wear either very much but probably lipstick

68. sweet or savory? savory

69. girl crush? ana de armas or margot robbie

70. how do you know your in love? i feel like you’d do anything for that person even if it hurt you, and you think about them all the time and want to protect/be there for them

71. a song you can listen to on repeat? i usually avoid listening to things on repeat, but if i had to choose something... idk maybe africa by toto 😂

72. if you could switch lives with someone for a day, who would it be? probs someone like elon musk or bill gates to see what it’s like to be that fucking rich and successful

73. what are you most excited for about this time in your life? just enjoying it and maybe honing some skills with all this extra time. also watching some movies on my watchlist

i’m tagging @verafarmiga, @northuldrra, @tmhnks, @spaceoddly, @breaksfastclub, and anyone else who wants to do it!! but feel free to ignore or just laugh at my answers

[numba99]

The Arrangement Part 8

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 * Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Summary: You’re an aspiring model in NYC who is offered an opportunity of a lifetime - an arranged relationship with a famous Ranger. Things start out rough and are further complicated by the fact that you’re already in a relationship. Will you be able to figure things out or will it all end in disaster? Word Count:2,079

Warnings: none, besides its been v long since the last update (im so sorry LMAO) so if their are minor inconsistencies in the story line I am sORRY I think everything adds up though. And gain we are pretending the media surrounding hockey is a much bigger deal lol

It was a bittersweet day. Sure you were getting to see Mika, something that would always be a bright spot in your day, however it was the last time you were allowed to be together. After tonight, being with him would put both of you in jeopardy. If his contract was anything like yours, he be sued for an obscene amount of money.

You tried to push this thought out of your head as you waited for Fred to arrive to take you on the final date. Tonight you were going to a little rooftop bar in Greenwich Village. It was going to be one of your more public dates, and that’s just how management wanted it.

You were supposed to act like you were upset and be distant from each other. That way when they leaked that the two of you broke up, witnesses would say how unhappy you looked together. It was the perfect set up.

A knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts. You instantly smiled seeing Harry standing on the other side. You would have thrown your arms around him, but he had a giant bouquet of flowers in his hands.

“Here love,” Mika said, handing you the arrangement for pink and purple flowers. It was much bigger than any of the others he has gotten you. “Sorry it’s so big, I didn’t get you any for our last date and I wanted to make up for it,” he explained, as if reading your mind.

“You so don’t have anything you need to make up for,” you gushed, kissing his cheek, “But I love them so much, thanks Mika.” You clutched the flowers to your chest, bring them your kitchen table - which had been bare without his bouquets. When you got back to Mika you hugged him tightly, breathing in his fresh minty scent.

“I missed you too,” he chuckled, teasing you for hugging him like you hadn’t seen him in months.

“Sorry,” you laughed at yourself, “Guess I just can’t get enough of you.”

“Understandable,” Mika winked, “Now let’s head out, don’t wanna keep Fred waiting.”

You walked hand in hand to the car, greeting Fred with a big smile. You were going to miss him, you thought. He was always a friendly face when you needed it. Not to mention, you may have never told Mika how you really without him.

“Did I tell you how beautiful you look yet? Because you’re absolutely stunning, the outfit, you hair, everything,” Mika commented. His warm eyes traced your body under the dim car lights.

“Oh, come on, it’s nothing special,” you blushed, never being great with compliments. Plus, your outfit was pretty simple after all: a tailored white blouse, snug blue jeans, and pink heels.

“On the contrary,” Mika replied, “it’s special just because you’re wearing it. I especially love these shoes. I think I’ve got a shirt that color, we should match one day.” You smiled, your heart filling with joy when he spoke of a future with you.

“It’s a date.” Mika squeezed your hand and kissed your cheek. Part of you didn’t want to go anywhere. You’d be happy to just ride around with him for a few hours.Unfortunately that was not part of the plan.

“Here,” Fred announced.

“Let’s do this,” Mika said, taking your hand in his. You walked more confidently through the crowd of photographers. The flashes were still annoying, but they didn’t bother you nearly as much as they did when you were first exposed to them.

“You’re getting good at that,” Mika noted.

“I learned from the best,” you winked. Mika smiled, glad that you were getting over your discomfort with all the paparazzi. He knew that if you two were to stay together, you were going to have to get used to extra attention.

The two of you decided to take the stairs, considering it wasn’t too high up. You were a little breathless when you reached the top - stairs were never really your friend - but it was definitely worth it. It was a beautiful roof top, lined with shrubbery and flowers making it fell more like a garden than a city building.

“This is amazing,” you breathed. It was a perfect night for this too, not a single cloud in the sky. The moon was bright, washing over all the people mingling. The skyline melted into the inky black sky, building lights twinkling like stars.

“It is quite nice, isn’t it?” Mika agreed. The two of you weaved through people, finding a little standing table no one was using. You were surprised no one seemed too interested in Mika, but then again, this bar was a favorite of many famous people so it wasn’t a shock to see someone.

Mika went to get you two drinks, returning with glass in each had. “So, we’re not playing along with this stupid act annoyed shit they want us to do, right?” Mika asked, taking a sip of his drink.

“I’d rather not,” you replied. If it was your last “safe” night with Mika, you didn’t want to spend it acting like you didn’t like him.

“I was thinking we give ‘em hell this last night,” Mika smirked, “They’re going to be pissed at us anyway, might as well have fun with it.” You were about to reply when your ringing phone cut you off. Normally, you wouldn’t answer the phone during a date, but you recognized the number from the Gucci audition.

“Hello?” you answered, nerves filling your body. This could be it.

“Hey y/n, it’s the creative director of the Gucci New York Fashion Week show, do you have a minute?” the woman asked.

“Of course.” You tried to sound nonchalant but there was definitely a hint of excitement in your voice.

“Great, well I am happy to say we have chosen you to be one of the models who walks in our show,” she told you.

“Oh my god, that’s amazing.Thank you so much,” you gushed, unable to act put together. Mika looked at you quizzically, wondering what you were so excited about.

“Of course! We are so excited to be working with you, you really impressive,” she replied.

“That means so much, it’s such an honor to be chosen,” you said. The woman explained she would be in contact in the future about fittings and dress rehearsals. You listened as carefully as you could not wanting to miss anything in your excited state. When you finally hung up, you turned to Mika, squealing with joy.

“What is it love?” he asked.

“I got a spot in the Gucci fashion show!” you exclaimed. Mika’s face lit up. He picked you up and spun you around.

“I’m so proud of you babe,” he smiled, planting kisses all over your face. A couple people in the surrounding area looked over at the two of you. Definitely won’t look like the two of you are fighting.

“I have to thank you for it, I never would have even gotten the opportunity without you,” you replied, so incredibly grateful for him. This was something you’ve dreamed of for so long and could really change your career.

Mika shook his head. “Not me babe, all you. And I can’t wait to be sitting front row watching my beautiful girlfriend on the runway.” Mika moved closer to you, his hands slipping around your waist. “May just have to buy whatever you’re wearing so I can fuck you in it.”

“Mika,” you blushed, “Someone’s gonna hear you.” The rooftop was getting progressively more crowded and he wasn’t exactly being quiet.

“I don’t care,” Mika replied, “I’m sick of not being able to say how I feel. I love you and I want everyone to know. I love you, I love you, I love you.” His voice got louder as he spoke, grabbing the attention of people around you.

Mika took your by the arm, leading you to the edge of the rooftop. He leaned over the edge a bit. He yelled and waved trying to get the attention of the photographers below. Some turned up, cameras flashing, desperate to get photos of the two of you.

“I love this woman! I love this woman so much!” He yelled, giving you a kiss in between.

“You’re crazy,” you laughed as he peppered kisses all over you.

“Just crazy about you,” he smirked.

“Corny ass,” you teased, rolling your eyes.

The two of you had a great rest of the night, dancing and laughing together. You knew there would be hell to pay, but Mika’s carefree attitude was rubbing off on you. In the end, you knew you two would have each other and that made you feel safe.

At the end of the night, the two were headed for the exit, hand in hand. Mika stopped you right before the door. “Wanna go out with a bang?” Harry smirked.

“What do you have in mind?” you asked.

“Just follow my lead,” Mika replied with a wink. You didn’t know what he had in mind, but you were down. You nodded and Mika smiled, leading you through the heavy doors. The flashes were instant and abundant.

“Mika, y/n, over here!”

“How long have you been dating!”

“Mika what were you saying on the roof?”

Harry stopped in the middle of the crowd. The photographers looked on anxiously, waiting for something they could use.

“Y/n and I are in love,” he announced simply. He took you, and dipped you down, kissing you deeply. So dramatic, you thought as he kissed you. But you secretly loved it. Even with your eyes closed you could see the lights going off like crazy. There was no way management wasn’t going to see this.

After a few moments, Mika pulled away and continued to the car. He smiled and waved at cameras, something he didn’t usually do. He was really playing it up.

“You’re so ridiculous,” you laughed as he pulled the car door shut.

“But you love it, don’t you?” he teased.

“Guilty,” you replied, kissing him quickly.

“Fred, you can just take us to my place,” Mika announced, squeezing your thigh. You were excited, having never been to his apartment before. You rested your head on Mika’s shoulder during the drive, suddenly realizing how sleepy you were. You hoped Mika had a comfy pair of sweats for you to change into because you were absolutely sick of these jeans.

“Here we are,” Fred announced, “Before you guys go, I just want to see I’ve really enjoyed driving you two around. Today is supposed to be my last day, but I know it’s definitely not your last day together. Whatever happens, I know you two will get through it. I wish you all the best.”

“That was so sweet,” you gushed, almost feeling like you could cry, “Thank you for everything, really. You’ve been incredible.”

“It was my pleasure, I only ask I get invited to the wedding,” he joked.

“Of course,” Mika chuckled. After a final goodbye the two of you headed out. 

“Jesus,” you gasped, walking into Mika’s place. It was huge, the living room bigger than your entire apartment.

“Oh this old thing?” Mika joked. “If you think this is nice, you should see my place in Sweden.”

“Can we go after this mess is over?” you asked.

“Of course babe,” Mika replied, wrapping his arms around you, “We’re going to go every where together.”

Mika kissed you softly and you felt like you were flying. If you hadn’t been so tired you probably would have gone further, but right now you needed sleep. Plus, you imagined you had a big day ahead of you tomorrow once management caught wind of these pictures.

“How soon do you think we’ll be called in?” You asked Mika as you pulled on one of his tees (he gave you a super comfy pair of sweatpants too, which you were completely jazzed about).

“I’m surprised they haven’t called already,” Mika said, peeling off his clothes, leaving him in just a pair of black boxers. He grabbed your waist, pulling you down onto the bed with him.

“Well whatever happens, at least we’ll go through it together,” you said, snuggling against his side.

“Yeah, you couldn’t get rid of me if you tried,” Mika smiled, kissing your forehead. Nestled together, you both drifted to sleep, worries of what tomorrow would bring far from your mind.

[nayutai]

|| Trapped ||

Word Count: 3496

Warnings: BUFF YOONGI!!!, unprotected sex (condoms are great. use them), public sex, cursing, creampie, quickie, nipple biting....I think that’s it

A/N: This is part of the BTS Smut Club Secret Santa Project and I’m so happy that I got to participate! Thanks for reading ♥

“Babe, is all of this really necessary?” I ask playfully as Yoongi adjusts his ladder in order to put the star topper on the massive tree he’d insisted on getting to celebrate our first Christmas together as a married couple. A 15-foot behemoth of a tree – artificial because neither of us has a desire to clean up pine needles – taking up half of our foyer isn’t exactly ideal but Yoongi had been so excited about it that I just couldn’t turn him down. You would think that the fact that we’re not even spending Christmas in Korea would’ve deterred him but he didn’t even think twice about it.

“It’s Christmas, you scrooge. Of course, it’s necessary.” I can’t see his face from where I sit on the couch, but the incredulous tone in his voice tells me everything I need to know. We’ve been together long enough that at this point I can tell if he’s coming down with a cold simply by the sound of his voice – it always drops half an octave before he shows his first symptom – so I’m willing to bet my sanity he’s wearing the same expression he usually gives Jin when his former roommate tells one of his corny jokes. The look that says, “you idiot”.

“Have you even finished packing yet?” I ask, bringing up once again his lack of luggage by the door, hoping that his answer will be different than what I feel in my chest that it will be. Yoongi’s large hands freeze around the golden star they’re fiddling with. My eyes narrow in on the way the tips of his ears slowly start turning red. This man has spent the entire day decorating a Christmas tree we won’t even be here to enjoy but he hasn’t finished packing for the week-long trip we’ve been planning for months. Fantastic. Our flight leaves in just over twenty-four hours and my precious husband is behaving like it leaves in twenty-four days. Fantastic. “Min Yoongi you get off that ladder right now and pack your fucking bags.”

Yoongi sighs deeply but stubbornly continues to fiddle with the tree topper as I glare at the side of his face. He takes his sweet time descending the ladder and even longer to fold it up and lean the piece of equipment against the wall. I raise my eyebrow at his grumbling form as he walks past the couch towards the stairs. A mischievous giggle escapes me as I kick my leg out, hitting him squarely on the ass. That little trick earns me an upturned middle finger and as he shuffles up the stairs like a grumpy twelve-year-old who’s been sent to clean his room.

I jog up the stairs after him a few minutes later to check his progress. I’m not entirely surprised to see him curled up in the middle of our bed next to his open suitcase and a pile of clothes. He’s so concentrated on whatever he’s scrolling through on his phone that he doesn’t even register the fact that I’ve entered the room until it’s too late. The sudden sound of me yelling nearly sends him flying headfirst off the side of our bed.

“Jesus Christ! I knew you wanted me dead.” He says dramatically, holding a hand to his chest. “I’ll have you know that Holly is the beneficiary on all of my life insurance policies so killing me is useless.” I don’t even dignify his foolishness with a response. Instead, I set about packing his suitcases myself since Yoongi obviously can’t be bothered. He tosses in his favorite pajama set but leaves the bulk of the work to me while whining about how I should rub his shoulders since he spent all day decorating a tree that he wanted. I pointedly ignore him and continue packing because I’ll be damned if I’m going to listen to him complain about forgetting something because he threw whatever he could touch in a bag at the last minute.

*   *   *

The hustle and bustle of the Incheon airport is like music to my ears as I practically bounce through the sparsely populated hallway leading to the private entrance. Yoongi is hot on my heels. The two of us are dressed as if we’ve just stepped off the runway for New York Fashion Week and not like we’re about to sit on a plane for thirteen hours. Being in BTS means that Yoongi is accustomed to putting a little extra effort into his airport attire, a habit that I was only too happy to join in on as it gives me the excuse to get all dressed up.

However, Yoongi’s airport outfit of choice for today has been giving me some…issues. He’s dressed in all black which is far from unusual for my husband. It’s the way he’s chosen to present his monochromatic ensemble that is at the root of my problem. The turtleneck layered under a leather jacket and tucked into a pair of ripped jeans makes a dark heat pool in my abdomen. Even the way he’s walking is sending shivers down my spine as I stealthily eye his borderline arrogant gait in the reflective glass that lines the hallway.

“Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Min.” The attendant says with an oversized smile on her face. “Your flight will be boarding within the next two hours. The private waiting room you booked will be directly off to your right.”

She hands Yoongi and I each a matte black key card with the name of the airport and the number three embossed across the front. It’s heavy and surprisingly smooth to the touch which means the small square in my hand probably costs more than the Gucci bag Yoongi is carrying. The attendant gives us a short spiel on the amenities included in the private waiting room before sending us on our way.

“A private waiting room? Really, babe?” I question playfully as we make our way towards the row of doors in search of number three. Yoongi snorts in response.

“My name is on two number one albums on the billboard chart and a Grammy nomination.” He says, waving the key card in front of the sensor next to the door when we reach or destination. “I deserve this luxury.”

“That you do, babe.” I throatily whisper into his ear when the door smoothly slides open to allow us to enter. He cocks an eyebrow at me and I know he’s on to me.

A decent sized lounge chair is pulling double duty as a bed against one wall with a small desk and chair off to the left. A mini fridge stocked with drinks sits in the corner at the end of the desk, a basket of snacks sitting on top of it. I fiddle with the touch screen next to the door until the space is bathed in low light. I notice that there is a Bluetooth icon on the main screen so I start the pairing process, selecting a specific song from my library once it’s successful and putting it on repeat. Yoongi inhales sharply behind me as the first few strains of House of Cards come through the speakers.

“Turn this shit off right now.” He grumbles as I turn to face him. His fists are balled up at his sides as he shifts where he sits on the edge of bed.

Ironically enough, House of Cards was playing the first time we ever had sex. Somehow it became our mood over the years so now it’s like our code word to say “I want to have sex right now. Let’s bone.” It’s gotten to the point that now whenever Yoongi hears it, he gets a raging erection whether I was the one who turned it on or not. He’s like one of Pavlov’s dogs. A cursory glance at the crotch of his insufferably tight jeans gives his condition away. I lick my lips as I quietly observe the growing bulge between his legs.

“God damn you, woman.” He curses as he practically lunges at me. A victorious giggle passes my lips as he attaches his lips to my neck with a ferocity that has flames licking at my nerve endings. His large hands knead my ass cheeks through the thin fabric of my leggings. He’s being so rough that for a second I’m worried he might actually rip them. Yoongi has been hitting the gym lately and sometimes forgets that he’s a bit stronger than he used to be.

He surprises me when he suddenly drops to his knees in front of me. His hands fumble around with the zippers of my knee-high boots while he keeps his mouth busy by running his tongue over my clothed center. He helps me out of my boots and makes quick work of my leggings, carelessly tossing them over his shoulder.

The oversized sweater I’m wearing hides the fact that I’ve forgone panties today. For a second I’m sure he’s going to collapse when he realizes that fact when he slides his hands beneath the maroon fabric that hangs just past my ass. His face is flushes and he looks like he might be on the verge of a heat stroke.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He shoots to his feet so fast his head nearly connects with my chin. His hands shake as he undoes his belt and unzips his pants. He sighs contently when he finally frees himself from his pants. I start to sink to my knees when he stops me with a hand on my shoulder.

My jaw drops in shock when Yoongi grabs me by the back of my thighs to lift me up against the wall. For the entirety of our relationship before this moment, Yoongi has never picked me up before. I’ve always been too heavy for him to lift.

“This,” he grunts in my ear as he covers his rigid length in my wetness. “this is why I started going to the gym.” Your head falls back against the wall with a low thud as he bumps against my engorged clit repeatedly.

Frustrated with his god awful teasing, I shift my hips just enough for the first inch or so to slide inside me on his next pass. Yoongi freezes for a second before he’s ramming as much of himself as he can inside me. The feeling of finally being filled is second to none. I’m given hardly any time to adjust to him before he’s pulling his hips back only to roughly surge forward again.

My nails search for purchase on the leather jacket that he has yet to take off. A lightning bolt of pride shoots through me as I realize my husband wanted me so bad that he couldn’t even wait long enough to take his jacket off to get to me. A particularly hard thrust has me biting down on my own fingers to keep from screaming. I may have turned the music on louder than necessary but even that isn’t going to drown me out.

“You fucking wanted this, baby girl. Now take it.” Yoongi grunts into the crook of my neck as he sucks and bites at the skin there.

My orgasm is approaching fast. Almost too fast if you ask me. My bra and sweater that were somehow left on now feel like they’re suffocating me. Between the fire that burns in my lungs and the fire that burns where Yoongi and I are connected, I feel like I’m about to explode. I claw uselessly at the bulky fabric covering my torso in attempt to get some air.

Yoongi shoves my sweater up over my breasts. He bends his head down to drag his tongue along the tops of my breasts before freeing them from my bra. His lips are wrapped around one of my erect nipples faster than I can draw in a shaky breath to prepare myself. A high-pitched whine claws its way out of my throat when he lightly bites down on my nipple. He laves the sting with tongue, tilting his head up to kiss along my upturned jaw. His strokes have slowed down to an almost lazy cadence. He switches over to the breast he’d been neglecting as his hips pick up speed again.

“Shit, Yoongi I-” As if he senses what I’m about to say, he reaches between us to press the rough pads of his fingers against my clit. That slight touch turns out to be the straw that breaks the camel’s back. My back arches obscenely as every muscle in my body tries to pull me in a different direction. A truly creative string of curses flies out of Yoongi’s mouth as my inner muscles seize around him. He plows into me a dozen more times before a pained groan falls from his pretty lips as he empties himself into me.

He leans his sweaty forehead against mine, staring into my eyes as we both work to regain our breath. I pepper gentle kisses all over his flushed face. Yoongi hums deep in his throat and leans into my affections. Our lips connect for the first time since we locked ourselves in this glorified closet. I wince slightly as his softening length slips from me. A grimace covers my face as the evidence of our activities leaks from abused core. I forgot just how gross this feels.

Yoongi thankfully finds some wipes in a cabinet on the other side of the bed that we hadn’t even noticed. We do what we can with the crotch of his pants and pray that his crotch won’t be stained from the unholy mix of fluids that they came in contact with.

*   *   *

We’re basking in the afterglow of our quickie when a crackling noise scares the shit out of us. Apparently, these private cabins have intercom systems for airport personnel to communicate with people in the waiting rooms.

“Good evening Mr. and Mrs. Min!” The cheery female voice says through the speaker. “My name is Jae, the first-class liaison. Your flight will begin boarding in approximately 15 minutes. Please leave drop your key cards in the designated slot next to the control panel and I will escort you to the first class waiting area.” We move about the room collecting our carry-ons. I take care of the keycards while Yoongi dumps the contents of the snack basket into his bag for “safekeeping”.

I tap the icon labeled “open door” on the touchscreen but nothing happens. Thinking that maybe it requires a heavier hand, I press my finger harder against the screen. Still no results. I frantically stab my finger against the lit screen as if that will unfreeze the system.

“Fuck! Yoongi, it won’t open.”

“What do you mean it won’t open?” Yoongi pokes at the screen repeatedly just as I did with the same outcome. “I wanna go to Bora Bora dammit.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Min? Is there an issue.” We jump at the sound of the intercom once more. In our panic, we forgot the woman on the other side of the door waiting on us.

She walks us through some troubleshooting steps over the intercom and even tries to open the door using the emergency exit handle but, apparently, it’s stuck too. After finally concluding that there’s nothing that she personally can do to get us out, we can hear her calling for a technician through the door. From the exasperated noise she makes, whoever she called did not give her good news about her situation.

“I deeply apologize but the technician assigned to this airport is off duty for the night. We can call in a technician from another airport but it’ll be at least a two hour wait.” She informs us as we have absolute meltdowns inside our waiting area. There’s no way we’re going to make our flight now. Jae leaves us for a moment to go input the work order and call in technician.

In the corner of my eye, I see Yoongi slowly turn his head to glare at me. His stare is threatening to burn a hole in the side of my face.

“I hate you so much.” He says. “All this because you wanted some dick.”

“Don’t put this all on me. No one told you to fuck me against the wall like a Neanderthal, you bitch.” I return his glare as we stand toe to toe, waiting for the other to back down.

The tension between us snaps like a rubberband as we dissolve into laughter. We quite literally fucked up the control panel for our waiting room and got ourselves locked in. You can’t make this shit up.

“Well…we may as well get comfortable.” Yoongi says as he digs around in his bag for a snack as he situates himself on the bed. I make myself comfortable between his outstretched legs, leaning back against his chest as I tear open the bag of chips he offers me.

Though I didn’t wish for it to happen this way, being able to spend this time with Yoongi is exactly what I needed. He’s been so busy working this year that moments like these have been few, far, and in between since we came back from our honeymoon in June. It’s nice to just sit here, eat chips with my husband, and listen to him talk.

We’re so deep in our own little world that we almost don’t notice that two hours have passed. Our easily frightened asses cling to each other when Jae’s voice suddenly blares out of the intercom again informing us that the technician has arrived to get us out. It takes all of fifteen minutes for the technician to reset the system and free us from the cabin.

Jae immediately launches into a damage control spiel. According to Ms. First Class Liaison, the airport is taking full responsibility for us missing our flight by refunding the cost of our plane tickets and the private waiting room to Yoongi’s card. It has also been arranged for us to use the airport owner’s own personal jet to get to Bora Bora. The two of us stand there in shock because we know that the airport bears no liability for us getting stuck but we sure as hell aren’t telling them that.

“Did that really just happen?” I ask Yoongi as we wait in the first class boarding area for the jet to be brought around.

“It did now be quiet before someone hears us and takes the money back.” He whispers as he glances around to make sure no one is near us.

“You should buy me something pretty with the money since it was my butt sweat that secured the bag.” I joke under my breath.

“I’ll be sure to do that, babe and I’ll start with some self-control and a rational thought process.” His gummy smile makes an appearance as he uses his bag to block my fists.

“Asshole. Rational thought would’ve been not fucking me against the wall.” He waves me off before digging in his bag for another snack.

“Whatever. You loved it.” I ignore him, scrolling through Facebook as we continue to wait. According to the two women manning, the desk our plane is next in line to pull up to the hanger for us to board so it shouldn’t be too much longer.

“Does this make us prostitutes?” Yoongi asks totally out of the blue. I open and close my mouth several times as I try to figure out how to respond to his question.

“What?” I ask incredulously.

“We basically got paid to have sex. Doesn’t that make us prostitutes?” His face is scrunched up in thought as he continues to eat his snack. His point makes logical sense but I’m not letting him know that. This is the craziest question he’s ever asked me and he once asked me how my hair grew so fast overnight because I showed up at the dorms in a wig longer than the one I’d worn the day before.

“I-…please never speak to me again.” He chuckles lowly before tossing a chip at my head and laughing when it gets stuck in my curls.

*   *   *

Bora Bora is just as beautiful as I imagined it would be. The weather is amazing, though a little rainy. Getting here may have been more hectic than we’d planned for it to be but sitting on the beach with Yoongi as we watch the sun set beyond the horizon is worth all the hassle. I turn to admire his elegant side profile as he tips his back, eyes closed as he breathes in the salty air. His hair is wet from the time spent frolicking around in the waves and slicked back from his forehead. I can’t resist the urge to lean over and kiss his temple.

“Merry Christmas, Yoongi.”